#it gives me a lot more freedom lol I think I like it
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Flowers in her Hair
(Katniss Everdeen x Fem Reader) ❀
Summary: After Katniss has a bad nightmare, you take her out for a little walk.
Warnings: None—pure fluff w/ a little bit of angst/comfort.
Word Count: 2281
Finding Katniss curled into a fragile ball in the corner of the bathroom, or weeping beside you in the darkness of your bedroom after a nightmare wasn’t an uncommon sight. In fact, she had a nightmare almost every night no matter what had succeeded beforehand or what time the two of you went to bed.
Some were a lot worse than others.
Sometimes it was just a gentle hand clasping at your shirt and panicked breathing, and sometimes it was screams of pain that echoed through the many halls of the house.
You were always there to comfort her, though, whether by a cup of tea or soothing words.
“Shh, shh… you’re alright.” You breathed softly into her hair, lungs inhaling and exhaling at a much slower pace than hers. You gently raked your fingers through her sweat soaked hair, tucking her teary face into the crook of your neck.
Katniss trembled in your embrace. Her heart raced so loud you could hear it. Her bitten nails were gripping your shirt like a lifeline and broken sobs escaped her broken lips.
No matter how bad the nightmare or the cause, the two of you always ended up in this position. She would curl up into your arms like a child scared of a storm, and you would cradle and rock her as such until her sobs soothed to whimpers.
“I’m here.” You murmured in the same tone. You felt her tighten her grip on your shirt so you hugged her a bit closer. “You’re safe..”
Katniss shook her head. Her tears had soaked your skin and weren’t stopping anytime soon. “I’m not… I’m not… Snow..”
“Snow is dead.” You whispered soothingly. While one hand rested still on the back of her head, the other rubbed in circles on her back. “He can’t hurt you.”
Katniss shuddered. “Y-you don’t know he’s dead.” She blubbered, voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t kill him…”
“The crowd and his own blood did.” You said. “I was there… I saw it. He’s gone, love, I promise you.”
This exchange was one of the most common ones. While it didn’t get any easier for the both of you, it was one you knew how to handle.
“Snow is gone, and you’re safe.”
Your words finally managed to break Katniss’s nightmarish haze as she let out a sigh of relief. She was still shaking and whimpering, but the tears were silent.
After the worst nightmares, Katniss would sometimes break free from your arms and run to the bathroom in an attempt to keep her sick inside the toilet bowl and not the floor. She’d spend a while there and you’d leave her alone for a moment to collect herself, then come and coax her back to bed.
That happened once more. You’d brought her out of bed and down to the kitchen to make some tea when you heard her feet smack onto the ground as she made a beeline for the bathroom.
You set the tea to brew and then crept into the bathroom.
Katniss was bent over the bowl, now silent. She’d made a pathetic attempt to tie her hair back and was gasping for air. She flinched when the door opened.
“It’s just me.” You murmured. You grabbed a rag and ran it under some cold water and then bent behind her. “Are you done?”
She weakly nodded, still panting.
With a gentle hand, you rested your palm on the side of her face and tilted her so she was looking at you.
Katniss, while always beautiful, had certainly looked… better.
Dark circles pooled beneath her eyes, a sharp contrast to her stark pale skin. She hadn’t made it through a full night without waking in weeks and it was really catching up to her. Her lips were raw and cracked from her bad habit of chewing and picking at them and her nails suffered the same story. Sweat beaded on her forehead and soaked the rim of her shirt. Tears glistened on her cheeks. There was some drool on her mouth from her bout of nausea and she was trembling once more.
Her sad eyes refused to meet with yours, though she made a soft noise of thanks when you cleaned her face with the cloth, then laid it on the back of her neck.
“Deep breaths.” You murmured, moving your hand to rub circles on her back once more. You knew Katniss was one who preferred to be shown what to do rather than told so you made an effort to breathe loudly. She copied you weakly until her heart slowed down.
You sat and comforted her a few minutes more before kissing her forehead and helping her to her feet.
The two of you made your way back to the kitchen; Katniss taking a seat at the counter and you pouring two cups of herbal tea.
She picked the mug up with quivering hands and lifted it to her mouth, swallowing the warm liquid with relief. The tea was infused with herbs you’d found in the woods to calm her down and it always did the job, plus it helped to ground her from the demons in her mind.
When Katniss had finally gotten herself under control, looked over at you.
“I’m sorry you have to deal with this… every night. You don’t deserve this.”
Another thing about Katniss was that she believed everything was her fault. When it rained when you two were on a walk, she should’ve noticed the clouds sooner. When the oven broke or burnt the food, she should’ve checked the wires or noticed the smell. And when she got a flashback or an anxiety attack… she should’ve handled it better. Everything was her fault, and she didn’t deserve you.
That was the first time you told her that her opinions were bullshit. And it wasn’t the last. Katniss apologized for everything, and every time, you assured her it was nothing to apologize for.
“Katniss…” You sighed and placed your mug down too. “I do this because I love you. I don’t care what I deserve, I want you.” You murmured, resting your hand over her wrist, ignoring the scars over her skin.
She dipped her head, watching the steam raise from her mug. “Y/n..”
“I know what I signed up for, and you’re not going to scare me away just to self sabotage.” You interrupted her before she could continue her spiel of how unworthy she is of you. You gave her wrist a gentle squeeze, followed by a soft, loving smile. “I’m not going to leave you. No matter what.”
Katniss mirrored your smile with teary eyes. She mumbled her own words of affection under her hitching breath and laid her head on your shoulder.
“I don’t think I can go back to sleep.” She whispered. “Not… not right now.”
You nodded. This happened a lot too. Oftentimes the two of you cuddled up in bed or on the couch and you read to her until she dozed off, but you had a different plan.
Sunrise was in about an hour and it was a warm night, so you wanted to try something new with her.
“How about we go for a walk?” You suggested gently, ruffling her hair. “We can pick herbs at the forest's edge and then watch the sunrise.”
Katniss picked her head up. “Really?”
“Mhm.”
The smile on her face brightened and she nodded. “Please.”
A few minutes later, the two of you set out. You’d slid your boots on and grabbed your basket and Katniss grabbed her lightest jacket. She didn’t want to bring her bow so she pocketed a little knife and met you at the door.
You left the house, hand in hand, enjoying the quiet peace of the oncoming dawn. The sky was still purple but yellow and pinks were dancing towards the east. A few brave stars still glimmered up above, the bright moon almost gone beyond the horizon.
“So, we’re looking for some goldenseal and ginger.” You said softly, not wanting to disturb the blanket of tranquility. “I’d like to try to make that ginger cake again, with a little more sugar.” You added with a soft chuckle, remembering the disaster of a pastry you couldn’t even call cake that came out of the oven last week.
Katniss chuckled too. “Alright.”
You both walked to the edge of the woods and split up. The two of you had become familiar enough with the forest surrounding the Victors Village to wander through it alone with ease, so you weren’t scared to part from her. You’d been herb collecting plenty of times, looking for plants to replenish your stock or to sell.
Once you had a hefty amount of roots and bushy green leaves in your basket, you whistled out. The tune was one similar to the Mockingjay Propaganda call, but you’d altered it slightly to give it a new meaning, just for the two of you.
A few seconds later, you heard the whistle in response and followed the sound.
When you found Katniss, she was on her hands and knees, digging up a few more roots. She cut out the best ones with her knife and smiled softly up at you when you came back.
Beside her on the ground were a few primrose plants, roots, leaves and flowers all intact. After you’d planted some of them in front of the house, the two of you made a habit of gently digging up any of the plant that you could and adding it to the garden out back. It was a large collection of beautiful flowers that Katniss turned to when overwhelmed, and although it was a bit much, you didn’t mind at all. It looked almost as beautiful as Katniss when in full bloom.
“Here, we’ll put these in the basket too.” You bent beside her, helping her scoop all of the plants into your basket.
Katniss gave you a grateful smile and nodded.
When the two of you left the woods embrace, the sky was now a light shade of pink. You left your basket on the back doorstep to the house and then took Katniss to the hill overlooking the nearby meadow.
You could see the sun rising in the distance, its golden rays climbing over the hill.
Katniss smiled softly at the view and sat beside you.
“Thank you… for getting me out of the house.” She said softly. “I really needed this. Sometimes the nightmares just… they’re suffocating.”
You nodded solemnly. “I know.” Offering her a sympathetic look, you squeezed her shoulder. “We can do this more often now since it’s getting warmer. You can even try to teach me to hunt again, if you want.”
That drew a laugh out of her.
“Oh, come on, y/n… You wouldn’t hurt a fly.” She cooed affectionately.
You smiled, defeated. “That’s true… I can be your moral support, though.”
“Deal.”
A gentle silence overtook the two of you as you continued to watch the dawnbreak.
You’d begun weaving a crown of daisies and clovers to place overtop Katniss’s head. She’d long gotten rid of the ring of gold from the 74th games, much preferring the natural crowns instead.
Katniss’s head rested in your lap, her fingers mindlessly playing with the fabric of your pants. This was one of the few times she didn’t feel the need to fidget or move. She was content with being still, listening to your soothing voice and watching the sunrise.
“You know… the mockingjay nest out back? The eggs hatched yesterday.” You murmured, finishing up the crown and weaving in the last ends. “They’re still babies but soon they’re going to be pretty loud.”
Katniss smiled, nodding. “How many?”
“Four.” You smiled too. You gently ran your hand down her back, finding the curve of her shoulder and sitting her up. She faced you and you brushed hair out of her eyes, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “I’ve heard if you give them seeds or nuts, they bring you little treasures, like crows.”
“They do?”
“Yep. And they might even stick around.” You gingerly lifted the crown and laid it on top of her head, kissing her nose this time. “I was thinking if they do end up sticking around, we could name them. I think they can actually remember faces too. They even chirp specific tunes they associate with them.”
Katniss blushed at your gentle kiss, intrigued. She lifted a hand to gently touch the crown, then intertwined her fingers with yours.
“You better not train them to come inside.” She warned you with a warm smile. “Buttercup might enjoy the taste of Mockingjay.”
You chuckled. “I won’t. I learned my lesson.”
“Good.”
The two of you smiled at each other and just laughed.
Once the conversation died off, you leaned back against the tree, Katniss resting between your legs, her back against your stomach and head against your chest. She had been stroking your arm and watching the golden sunrise with you, but now she was drowsy and barely hanging in there.
“Someone's sleepy.” You murmured with a gentle tease, hooking your other arm around her. “Maybe we should head back inside.”
“No.” She whined, her voice adorable even though she would protest the thought. “I want to stay here…”
You nodded. “Alright. We can stay.” You assured her gently, just relieved she was getting some rest.
Katniss’s eyes fluttered shut but her lips kept their statue of a smile until she eventually drifted off in your arms. She was safe, with flowers in her hair, love in her heart, and you.
#I gave up on the gif guys what do we think of this format?#it gives me a lot more freedom lol I think I like it#katniss everdeen x reader#the hunger games#catching fire#katniss everdeen#katniss everdeen x fem!reader#katniss everdeen x you#the mockingjay#x reader#nightmare#comfort#fluff
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nothing makes my blood boil more than seeing the piece of shit school I used to go to flying a pride flag outside. what do they have to take pride in? fraud?
#great that they're at least pretending to be inclusive but I doubt the place has changed in the past three years#I mean. they pretended to be inclusive of more than just christianity but iirc they wouldn't let other religious freedom of expression#but they got rid of the compulsory chapel and religious studies so of course they're all inclusive!!!#like these are choices deliberately being made to make the school look better not any deep choices of trying to be better#it's a shitty old surname gets the best treatment excuse of education#when I say 'shitty old surname' I mean if you're from a family that gives them lots of money you get privileges#if your grandfather idk is the only reason that school exists in its current form but you're not picture perfect you're outta luck#I mean. not like I was ostracised for 'being a weird lesbian' because I dared to be oblivious to someone having a crush on me#and being autistic#and that was just totally fine!! 'maybe you should stop being so easy to pick on' was the legit answer I got when I told a teacher#well. it went to my house head and she said that but she's a cop now and she DEFINITELY was horrifically ableist towards me lol#autism? not in girls. that can't affect physical movement anyway. asthma is an excuse so's your damaged ankle#god. I wasn't and still am not a lesbian but sure.#what I WAS though was trans and oh boy!! height of attack helicopter jokes that nobody did anything about#other than 'you're being too loud'#oh and I swear to god if they say that they're not homophobic because they uplifted asshole [guy with the same name as two other guys]#then I'd LOVE to point out the fact that they banned dressing in the opposite uniform.#I'd LOVE to point out that they banned someone I knew from wearing a kilt because 'it's a skirt and boys cannot wear those' to the formal#despite there literally being an official kilt that the pipers wore#I think he actually got in trouble for wearing non-black trousers#I would also love to talk to them about how they mentally tortured at least two people one of whom being myself#and this was led by the school psychologist.#goddamn.#it makes me so mad because they just. I am genuinely so mad#great that they're pretending to be inclusive for brownie points I guess#still makes me super upset to see them claim to be inclusive when they really are not and never have been
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literally the only reason i am not in as bad a mental health place as i was in in december is bc i’m done w school now and i never have to go back or deal with being a student again if i don’t want to and also bc i know there is a high likelihood that there are some big important helpful highly desired changes on my horizon in the next few months and years. but i am really not doing good right now
#purrs#scotus leaked draft + buffalo shooting + dallas shooting + uvalde shooting + monkeypox + covid cases rising + losing my last 3 weeks of#college and graduation + losing my freedom for who knows how long and moving back home + friends and family getting covid + pushing myself#to the limit finishing my capstone + watching my loved ones suffer with the situations in their own lives = is it ethical to bring children#into this world is it reasonable to think that i will one day live with autonomy again and find a romantic partner and have a pet and enjoy#my life and see all the people i love doing the same. all ive been able to do this week outside of finishing school my job application etc#is doomscroll about the shootings and covid and monkeypox when i really should be doomscrollimg through my fucking save tag that i curated#specifically to counteract these situations and give me reasons to find hope but i don’t have the strength or see the point bc im only gonn#lose the hope again. but i know there’s a point but i can’t get myself to see it and maybe it’s bc km just so exhausted but idk. and one of#the WORST parts of this is that if the job works out i am going to have to understand that people will look at me differently part of which#means that people — STUDENTS like i just was 2 days ago!!! — will look to me expecting that i have answers or at the very least hope and i#literally do not have hope right now and after national events this month i don’t know if i’ll ever feel hope again. so it’s like fuck i#wont be able to do my fucking job that i feel called to do and want to do more than anything lol. but i already won’t be able to do it bc t#the chances that i can go to [insert convferwrnce] when it involves being on a plane and navigating people who won’t wear masks are so low#and * already snarked about it to me yesterday which really hurt my feelings like i don’t think she was trying to be mean but it’s like yes#the fuck i can hide in the van forever i do NOT want to get covid. but i also do not want to miss [conference] and it’s just so stupid that#im going to have to keep making these choices because this nightmare country has decided covid doesn’t exist anymore. idk lol#i know everything in my life could be a lot worse and also that it is objectively WORLDS better than it was very recently bc i graduated an#im done now. but this month has sucked so unbelievably bad and June is also going to be hard and im just scared i will never be happy or#hopeful again or that every time i am something new will knock it down (which is a given living in the usa lol) and that it would be#unethical to try to do the BASIC bare minimum things i have always wanted to do in my life. lole#negative tw#ask to tag#abortion tw#shooting tw#mass shooting tw#monkeypox tw
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carefully curated my space 2 induce agony
#this is legit just the fallout from my prof + friend tearing me down lol#i wanna stop thinking about it but every time i try 2 do anything they're there hammering nails into my coffin#we're supposed 2 go on a picnic tomorrow + i just don't wanna#like i KNOW they're wrong. when i look at philosophically-complex media it looks a lot more like my work than theirs.#+ they SUCK at interpreting things + they suck at giving people artistic freedom#like i know they're wrong about everything but they won't fucking shut up!
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March ✮ 2 ✮ 2024 – update
Another non-update, but I just wanted to get it out there! Happy March! I'm glad everyone liked the flashback. I quite like long content like that because it gives me more freedom. Plus, it's fun.
✮ — March will be for
Choosing the beta testers. I got A LOT of submissions, which I'm really grateful for! But I only have plans to a handful as of right now. That will change as the story gets bigger and bigger and I'll have to add more. I'll make a post when I have chosen and DM'd the beta testers.
Finishing the rewrite. Am I wild to think I can finish chapter 1 and chapter 2 this month? Yeah. Will I try anyway? YES.
Chapter 3 development. Outline done. Beginning done (I started working on it on my off-time. Oops) Hopefully I can get somewhere substantial. With beta testers now, I won't have to worry over errors and coding. That's 40% of why it takes me as long as it does. We'll see!
Patreon content as usual.
I haven't finished the spicy snippets because I haven't been able to think of good scenarios for the remaining ROs. Once I do, I'll be sure to write them!
That valentines special...Yes. I haven't forgotten it! lol
That's all for now! Hope everyone has a good day! <3
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The Price || MYG
banner by @/itaeewon
The Price
Rating: NSWF - minors do not have my consent to interact
Genre: Snow White and the Huntsman!au, angst, smut, unhappy ending
WC: 8k
Summary: The Queen is responsible for everything you call yours: your home, your job, your freedom. You live without laying claim to anything else, lest the Queen leverage more in exchange for her grace. But the Queen has just named her latest price: the life of the young blacksmith, Min Yoongi.
Warnings: language, drinking, there’s a plague and it’s a problem, reader’s parents died (see the previous warning lol) and there are scenes of her grieving process, reader is a hunter so there’s mentions of animal carcasses and hides, lots of mentions of reader’s big fancy knife, a murder attempt, kissing, nip stim, groping, fingering, clit stim, penetrative sex (protection not mentioned either way), reader on top, angst, unhappy/ambiguous ending
A/N: Part of the Make Me Your Villain collab! Please give the other authors a lot of love!!! Huge huge huge thank you to @/here2bbtstrash for beta-ing!
//
Mirror, mirror - look and see.
Who might take this throne from me?
Mirror, mirror - who's the threat?
Show me which boy's blood to let.
There are pros and cons to living outside the village. The pros are that you’re mostly left alone - you live by your own laws, most of the time. It’s better this way; you come and go as you please, you don’t worry about latest fashions or gossip, you aren’t under the thumb of any societal niceties or norms. You concern yourself more with what the forest tells you. Bad weather, humans who don’t belong, sickness on the horizon - the forest knows it all, and you know how to listen.
You knew about the plague - in a vague, something isn’t right here kind of way - days before the first villager fell sick. You didn’t see anything bigger than a possum for three days - you knew something was in the air. It was the baker first, then his wife. Now it’s made its way into the castle, the guards and servants falling like flies.
Another pro - you won’t pick up illness from the baker if you make your own bread in your tiny cabin in the woods.
The main con - the only con, really - is that when you make your weekly trek to the castle to present the King and Queen with your scores (deer, mostly, but usually a few fowl too) it takes so damn long to get there.
It would be faster on foot, much faster, but you have to load your kills onto a cart and take the dirt road, which winds and twists and takes its time. Today your cart is loaded: venison, fowl, a few rabbits, even a fox. That had been a good score. The Queen likes furs - she’ll pay you well for it.
But the trip into town once a week is a fair price for your freedom, you think.
A few vendors through the heart of town wave hello as you pass. You lift your hand in response but don’t stop. You’ll shop after, when your cart is empty and your purse is full. For now, you stay on the main road until it changes over from tamped-down dirt to cobblestone to, eventually, flat stone that leads to the bridge over the castle’s moat.
The usual guard, the one who knows your face and always waves you through, isn’t there. You wonder if the plague reached him, if he’ll recover or if they’ll send his body to the sea like all the others.
You show identification, the card nearly illegible due to how many times it’s been folded and stuffed into your shoe for safekeeping, and this new guard waves you on.
As usual, you stop in the courtyard just inside the first set of walls. You hop down and start undoing the straps of the fabric you have over the top of the cart. Two guards join you, and they begin moving your scores down from the cart. Each is weighed and given a quick once-over as a scribe stands to the side recording it all.
“Make sure you mention how nice that hide is,” you tell him, pointing at the fox. “I got that one special, for her.”
The scribe rolls his eyes a little, but you see him peer at the fox and scribble something on his little parchment. When they’re done, your cart empty, the scribe rolls his paper up and leads you up the steps towards the main doors to the castle. You flip one of the guards a silver coin and follow the scribe. As you head up the steps, you hear the sound of your horse’s feet moving across the stone, the cart creaking and groaning behind him, as the guard you paid takes him to be cared for.
Inside, you follow the thick, red carpet into the throne room. You’re surprised to see only the Queen present, but you school your face and drop into a bow anyway, your forehead brushing the soft carpeting.
When you rise, you see the scribe has handed her the parchment, and she reads over the report of your goods. You wait, knowing better than to speak until she has.
“A good week,” she observes.
“Yes, your Grace,” you say, eyes on the carpet. “I was pleased as well.”
“Are you well?” she asks as she signals for her Chief of Coin, who scurries close to the throne and lowers his head to hear her whispers.
“Quite well,” you say automatically, though you’re not sure what exactly she’s asking. Does she mean your health? Your home?
The Chief of Coin makes his way to you and you pull your practically-empty purse from your back pocket.
“You have need of nothing?” she asks.
This would be your opportunity to ask after anything major - repairs on your home, medicine, anything you couldn’t get during your walk back through town.
“No, your Grace,” you say. “I had need of a new blade, but the local smith took my request.”
The local smith and your new blade are one of your stops on your way home.
“I’ve heard from the citadel,” she tells you, and you pull your eyes away from the Chief of Coin to look at her. “They say your brother is doing well. He’s applying himself to his studies.”
When you’d lost your parents, you’d begged to keep your brother yourself, desperate to keep him away from the citadel’s orphanage. You were of age, could handle yourself. You could handle him, too, you’d argued.
The King had considered this. Your family was well-known in the village, and your father had hunted for the crown for many years. Your brother was only about five years out from finishing his schooling.
You were investments, you and your brother.
In the end, the deal had been struck - the crown would see to the rest of his education under the condition that when he finished he’d work for the crown, pay back his debt, begin to build his own name.
And, in the meantime, you’d take over the hunting. You could keep your family’s little cabin out in the woods, away from town. Your brother wouldn’t be apprenticed off to a stranger.
It was an easy deal to agree to.
“We’re grateful for the opportunity,” you say to the Queen. “If the report said anything less, I’d travel there to knock sense into him, myself. He’s at that age. You know.”
You try to bite back a cringe. The Queen might not know. She’d never been able to bear a child for the King.
She smiles at this, thinly. “Very well,” she says, and you take back your now-heavy purse from the Chief of Coin. “Then I shall see you next week. I wish you continued health in the upcoming days.”
You nod your head. “I wish the crown health and longevity,” you say. Head bowed, you miss the way her eyes tighten.
–
You pick up the goods you need - eggs, flour, and the like - on your way through town. You eye the tavern, tempted to stop for a pint. Alas, you are embarrassingly excited to get your new blade, so instead you carry on down the road towards the smithy.
After tying up your horse - though he’s a lazy thing and probably wouldn’t wonder anyway, not with the cart hitched up - you head inside, following the sounds of a hammer striking metal.
You wait until there’s a break in the noise and then shout a hey back towards the open door to let the team know they have a customer.
There’s the sound of a heavy instrument being dropped to the ground, and you catch yourself smoothing your hair back. Stop it, you scold yourself, scowling.
That’s the face that greets the youngest of the smithing team, Min Yoongi, as he steps into the shop, blinking as his eyes adjust to the light.
“Ah,” he says, lips curling into a smirk. “Is it Thursday already?”
“Is my blade ready?” you ask, ignoring both his self-satisfied grin and his question. “Park Jihoon said I could get it today.”
At his boss’s name, Yoongi’s smirk fades until he’s all business again. He turns to the wall, where special orders are tacked. He searches until he finds yours.
“It’s ready,” he grunts, reading the slip of parchment. “Wait here.”
He disappears into the back again, returning with a hefty-looking blade, sheathed in a leather case.
He places it on the counter between you, pulls the blade from its case and turns it over so you can see each side.
You frown. “I didn’t order engraving on the case,” you say, jutting your chin towards the delicate design at the top. It curls in and around itself, all the way around. “I’d better not have to pay extra for that.”
“Ah, but he worked so hard on it!” Park Jihoon says cheerfully, appearing out of the back and clapping Yoongi on the shoulder. You keep your eyes on the knife; Yoongi looks steadfastly at the wall with the orders, a pink flush working up his neck.
“It’s not extra,” he mutters.
“I’m heading to Bridgeport,” the senior blacksmith tells Yoongi. “I’ll be back before sundown. You’ll be okay here?”
“Of course I will,” Yoongi says, disgruntled. Jihoon nods goodbye at you both and moves through the door, leaving you in silence.
“What’s the price?” you ask, placing your purse on the counter and digging for coins. He turns the paper over so you can see what his boss wrote, and you slide him the payment. You work on attaching the blade’s sheath to your belt, ignoring how Yoongi watches you through heavy-hooded eyes.
You know that look. You are ignoring that look.
“Lovely,” you say, once you’re situated and ready to go. You swipe up your purse and toss it once, catching it deftly. “Have fun pounding on metal, or whatever.”
His grin is razor-sharp. “I’d be happy to pound something else, if you want.”
The laugh rips out of you, unbidden and unwanted. “Disgusting,” you tell him, but the laughter takes the bite out of the words. “My God, you ought to throw yourself down the well for that.”
He lifts a brow, his smile turning less dangerous and more open.
You laugh again, shaking your head. “None of that today, thanks. I’ll be off.”
“Come on,” he cajoles, coming around the counter to follow you to the door. “You know you want some. It’ll be such a long ride back here when you change your mind later.”
“Keep dreaming, blacksmith,” you tell him, lips pursing in amusement.
He lays a hand over his heart like he’s wounded. “Blacksmith? You remembered my name just fine last week when you were -.”
“Well, I seem to have forgotten it again!” you blurt before he can finish the thought, pulling the door open. Over your shoulder you call, “Good day!”
His laughter rings out onto the street, following you home.
Regretfully, you have to admit that out of everyone who lives in this village, built out from the castle’s western gate, you know the most about Min Yoongi.
You knew him in passing, of course - before. When you’d ride through this same village on this same cart, your little brother squeezed between you and your father. When you’d stand silently, peeking around your father’s side, while he took payment from the King for his scores. When you’d greet the peddlers and the shop-keepers politely before climbing back on the cart and riding all the way back home.
Yoongi was just an apprentice then. You hadn’t paid him any mind. He was quiet, a bit scruffy, stayed close to Park Jihoon. He was no more interesting to you than the apprentice for the bakery, the tannery, the copywrite. Wasn’t even the best looking out of the bunch, honestly.
He was just there, unassuming. He was there when you’d pass through town on the cart full of your father’s scores, there whenever your family had business with the blacksmith, there when the holidays rolled through and your mother dragged you into town in a dress you hated and shoes that pinched.
There the day your parents’ bodies, along with six others, were loaded onto a barge headed for the sea. There the day your brother joined four more young people from the village as they climbed into a deep blue carriage headed for the citadel.
Yoongi’s dark eyes, cool and undemanding, had been on you as you stood fully alone for the first time in your life.
You hadn’t paid him any attention then, either. You couldn’t pay mind to anything then except dragging yourself through dark day after dark day until, finally, the clouds seemed to part and your new life seemed bearable. And bearable turned into decent. And decent turned into enjoyable.
The seasons turned. The hurts faded.
And you began to pay mind to Min Yoongi.
You began to learn things about him, then - after.
In your time around town, you learned first that he was good at his work - his blades were made well, easily as well as his master’s blades. You learned that he scowled and grunted but hardly ever meant it. You learned that he had a good reputation around the village - was known for helping his neighbors without being asked, known for being polite and keeping to himself. You learned that he had no family either, that the master blacksmith who’d taken him as an apprentice had more or less raised him, too.
Alone with him, you learned that his smile could be razor sharp, one side lifting and eyes glinting in a way that made your pulse sing. You learned that when he meant it, his eyes squeezed shut and his gums showed. His shoulders shook when he laughed. He made the funniest faces when someone said anything he didn’t agree with or didn’t understand. He’d grown strong, his craft shaping his arms and roughening his hands.
You learned that he took whiskey neat at the tavern when he was done working for the day. You learned that he had a smart mouth behind his quiet demeanor, and opinions about everything. You learned what he was willing and able to do with that mouth when he pressed you against the rough wood of the tavern’s side alley, and then later, back in his rooms behind the smithy.
You learned that he fucked rough but loved soft.
And that was where it had to stop.
Because it couldn’t be - but this you knew the whole time.
When he pressed his mouth to yours sweetly, stretching to reach you, brushed one lovely finger down your cheek and whispered, I want you, you knew this: it couldn’t be.
There was no life for you in the village. There was no life for you as someone’s wife. There was no future for you as someone’s homemaker.
Even if he could somehow give you partnership and love without taking away the wildness of your lifestyle - there was no love ready to bloom and grow behind your iron ribs. You had nothing you could give him back. You knew only survival. Only killing and coin. Only the forest and its secrets.
“You can’t have me,” you’d whispered back. “I am not to be had.”
You were surprised when he didn’t fight it. He hadn’t pushed back. He hadn’t held it against you, hadn’t been wounded. He’d accepted exactly what you were willing to give him and asked for nothing more.
You know this, above all else: he’s sweet, and conscientious, and good. Yoongi is good.
You - forest-dweller, hunter, orphan, unmannered, uneducated - don’t deserve him. You aren’t enough for how good he is.
The royal physician’s face says it all.
The Queen purses her lips, her eyes on her husband’s prone form. He meets her gaze weakly, too far gone to mask any of it.
“How long?” she asks, the words clipped.
The physician spreads his hands before him. “Impossible to say, your Majesty. Days, maybe. Weeks, if he can be strong.”
She scoffs. “Days it shall be, then.” She dismisses him with the wave of a hand.
No one is surprised, she thinks. The plague would breach their walls eventually. Only the strong survive - of course it would be her husband who would succumb first, and quickly. He’d never been strong, not like her.
After all, she was the one who tried all these years. She looked and acted the part of a partner. She was faithful. She focused on the crown, on the realm.
Not like him.
He coughs as he shifts on the bed, and she looks at him again. Weak, she thinks again. She can only feel disgust for him, for everything he never gave her.
“You’ll finally get what you always wanted,” he croaks.
She turns to look out the window. The day is grey, dreary.
“It seems I shall,” she agrees. Then she turns and walks closer to her husband’s sickbed - deathbed, perhaps. She drops delicately into the chair at his side and takes his clammy hand in hers.
It might look as if she doted on him. It might look as if she mourned.
“What became of him?” she asks, voice even and unbending. “The boy.”
Her husband’s eyes crinkle with amusement, and the chuckle that rumbles from his chest is accompanied by pained coughing.
“You truly are something, my Queen,” he says, shaking his head. “The boy doesn’t even know.”
He will say nothing else.
The Queen is delivered two things at once, not a week later.
The first, a gilded mirror, promised to possess magical ability.
The second, the expected news of her husband’s passing.
The realm begins its period of mourning, flags lowering, shutters closing. The Queen begins her incantations, alone in the southernmost tower of the keep.
The frame is made of ornately twisted gold, so heavy it takes two of her men to hang it for her. When they pull the dust cover off, she steps back to appraise it.
“Pretty,” she observes, watching her own reflection in the glass - unmagical, unextraordinary.
The swirling, green-hued mist doesn’t appear before her reflection until her men are dismissed, the door closing and leaving her alone.
Your Majesty, the mirror intones, the voice coming from the depth of the mist. Your wish is my command.
The Queen pauses, considering. The throne, the throne - hers, finally, only hers.
Unless.
The King’s last words to her ring through her head - the boy doesn’t even know.
She raises her chin and chants,
“Mirror, mirror, look and see…
Who could take this throne from me?
Mirror, mirror, who’s the threat?
Show me which boy’s blood to let.”
The mist, green and growing, takes over the glass. The Queen’s fists clench tightly at her sides.
The mist clears. The Queen lets out a laugh, short and bitter.
The blacksmith’s boy smiles shyly in the glass, one hand coming up as if to hide his face.
The blacksmith’s boy. The king’s bastard. Her only threat, the only other claim to her throne.
Your next trip into town isn’t with a cart full of venison and fowl. Instead it rings more true to the holidays of old, with your mother in charge. You wear black and a scowl, just as you did then.
The funeral services for the King threaten to last the full day, maybe into the night. You wish you could abstain, but if ever there was an event you were obligated to attend - this would be it.
You’re not sure what the King’s death means for you - for your brother. Will the Queen uphold the bargain? Does she still want your brother’s counsel, someday, when he’s of age? Without the King’s affection for your father, will she continue to allow you to live freely as part of the arrangement?
You sit alone in the church pew; rather, you’re surrounded on either side by strangers. You know Yoongi’s in the crowd somewhere - you can feel his eyes burning holes in the back of your head. You don’t turn to look for him. What good would it do?
It’s well after dark when the town begins to file out into the night. Your stomach growls, and you ponder if you should stop for a hot meal at the tavern before making the trek back through the woods or if you can hold out until you’re safely back at home.
You’re stopped on your way out the door by a guard reaching across you, blocking your path.
“Her Majesty requests your audience,” he says gruffly, and you feel the hairs on your neck stand at attention. Your audience?
It can’t be good. You’re sure of it.
You don’t meet her in the throne room as you have in the past. Instead, the guard leads you to a small chamber off the chapel, a nondescript little room with no decor, only a table with a candelabra lit in the center.
She’s seated, and it’s so cramped in the room that it’s hard to properly bow, but you do your best.
“Is my brother well?” you blurt out as soon as the guard has closed the door behind you. It was the first, biggest concern you had - you couldn’t hold it in. Had something happened in the citadel?
She inclines her head, shrouded in darkness. “I asked you here because I need something done. You seem, somehow, to be my best option.”
You duck your head, flooded with relief. “I’m at your service, as always.”
And you are. You owe the crown everything - the home you were allowed to keep, your brother’s education, your income. Your freedom, as conditional as it is.
The Queen seems to think before she speaks, and when she does each word is short and deliberate.
“There’s someone I need gone,” she says, her voice giving away no emotion. No sign of grief from the widow, no sign of trepidation from the new ruler, no sign of regret from the human asking you to take a life. “A threat to my throne. I’ll pay five times our normal scale. And I’ll pay you for your discretion, as well, on an ongoing basis.”
You respond with silence. You can’t process quickly enough - you don’t know what to tell her.
The only thing you can tell her is yes. She holds your whole world in her hands.
But if you tell her yes, then you have to do it. Can you kill a person, can you pretend it’s no different from cutting a rabbit’s throat?
Could you tell her yes and then leave? Vanish into the forest? What would become of your brother, if you did? Would he be responsible for your sins?
Five times your normal price could do a lot for you. You could send finer clothes to your brother, help pay for his books, maybe even a little spending money. You could fix up the cabin - patch the roof where it leaks, reinforce the cellar the way you’ve thought about for years.
And payment for your silence - ongoing? For how long, forever?
None of it matters. You can’t say no to the Queen.
“Yes, your Majesty,” you hear yourself say. Your stomach is a block of ice, turning over and over with the tide. “I am yours to command.”
You know it. She knows it.
“The blacksmith’s boy,” she says coolly, and you aren’t even surprised. It’s like part of you knew, somehow. Part of you has been waiting for this ending all along. Isn’t this exactly why you’d never let him get too close? There was never a happy ending in the stars - not for you.
She accepts your silence as acquiescence and adds, “Tonight.”
“Tonight?” you repeat, voice coming out too wispy.
She meets your gaze, still cold. “Is that a problem?”
“No,” you say, the only correct answer. But your mind is scrambling far away, getting ahead - what weapons do you have on hand, how will you do this -
“You didn’t strike me as softhearted,” she says, full of disdain.
“I’m not,” you defend. It’s just that it’s Yoongi. Yoongi, who sees your sharp edges and smiles because he knows firsthand how much sharp edges are worth. How - how - how can you? How can you pretend it’s just a hunt, just a necessity, when you know how his mouth tastes, how he looks at you like you’re something?
Her even look turns darker, a shade closer to a frown. “I know you have the stomach and skill to kill. And I know you dally with him. He’ll follow you - take him to the woods and be done with it.”
You haven’t been as discrete as you thought you had. You wonder who else in town knows about whom you dally with.
Not that it will matter, after tonight. Not if you follow orders.
Not when you follow orders.
“Yes, your Majesty,” you say, head bowed.
There’s no other correct answer. Your freedom had always had a price.
–
There’s some poetic irony, you think, in killing Min Yoongi with the blade he made just for you.
Your mind is stuck on this, circling it, unable to let go, as you approach the smithy.
The lights are out - there’ll be no late-night projects, not during the official mourning for the King. You hope Park Jihoon, whose quarters are above the smithy, just across the yard from Yoongi’s tiny cabin, sleeps deeply.
You know Yoongi keeps a key in the eaves above his front window; you’ve seen him retrieve it no less than a half-dozen times - usually he’s reaching for it, his shirt rising and showing a slip of belly that you can’t help but run your hands across as he laughs and tells you to be patient.
You reach it on your own, tonight. You let yourself in as silently as possible, closing the door behind you, placing the key gently on his tiny, wooden table. His bed is in the far corner of the room, and although the fire in the hearth has gone out, you can see the lump of blankets through the darkness that show you his form.
You approach quietly, as you would approach a potential score, letting yourself slip into the mindset of surviving the forest.
You hesitate when you stand over him. He sleeps on his back, the light from the streetlamps outside casting flickering yellow over his delicate features. His eyelids flutter. Next to his head, his fingers twitch.
If you strike true, this could be over in an instant.
His eyes slide open, and a hazy smile drifts over his face. “Am I having a very good dream?” he murmurs. His eyes trail down your form and freeze on the knife in your hand. The smile fades, and his eyes meet yours again, a question in them. “Or perhaps a very bad one?”
“I’m sorry,” you tell him. Then, you move at the same time - you lunging and plunging the blade into the spot where his heart lay, and him rolling sideways and hitting the floor with a thud.
You yank your blade free from where it pierced Yoongi’s empty mattress and wheel to follow him as he scrambles upright and towards the door.
You should’ve locked it. You shouldn’t have apologized, your voice and your regret giving him the split second to bolt.
You follow him at a sprint, panting hard, as the fool runs barefoot through the smithy’s yard, heading for the forest.
Your forest.
It’s overcast tonight, threatening rain. No moon or stars to guide you, you follow Yoongi as he zigs and zags blindly through the trees. You have the advantage. You know where you are, even in the dark.
It’s primal, as you forge deeper and deeper through the underbrush, just sinew and silence as you run. Wind whistles around you as you focus on breathing, focus on following the crunch of Yoongi’s wild path. The earth seems to rise up to meet each footfall with a jolting slap. The darkness seems to spur you on like it knows you need this, pressing you onward, telling you, hurry, hurry.
If you can herd him towards the east, you can cut him off at the ravine - he won’t be able to do it barefoot, not without stumbling, not without cutting those bare feet on the sharp rocks. You pick up the pace, emboldened by the plan, knees and elbows pumping as you close in.
Without warning, Yoongi stops short and wheels around on you, feet skidding a little on the loose needles that coat the forest floor. It’s so unexpected that the inertia carries you to him before you can tell your legs to quit. Before you can slow, before you can turn, he grabs you by the arms and slams you backwards into the thick trunk of an oak tree, hard enough to knock the wind out of you with an audible gasp.
You’re surprised enough that the knife drops from your fingers, and he wastes no time gripping you even tighter and throwing you to the ground, instantly dropping his body over yours and holding you down as best he can as you struggle. The blade lies just out of reach, taunting you, and you reach up and stretch as hard as you can to wiggle your fingers closer, but Yoongi roughly jerks your arm away.
You’re gasping for breath as you struggle beneath his weight, trying to keep your vision clear. This wasn’t part of the plan. You weren’t supposed to have to chase him, have to fight him. You aren’t used to this - the deer don’t fight back.
“Why?” he pants heavily, his whole body heaving with each inhale and exhale. Sweat runs down his neck from the curled, damp edges of his hair. His eyes are wild, confused above you.
“Do you know who your father is?” you respond in answer, and the question surprises him so much that he leans back, like he’s trying to get a better look at you.
It’s all you need. You use your feet and your core strength to stretch just past where you couldn’t reach with his full weight on you, and your fingers close around the blade’s handle. In a flash, you have the sharp side pressing to the pulse point on Yoongi’s neck, hard enough that you know he can feel the sting, your other hand curling in his shirt and holding him still. His eyes widen and he freezes, straining to hold himself up and away from you.
“If you move I’ll do it, and it won’t be quick,” you hiss, teeth gritted so hard you’re sure they’ll crack. Your heart slams in your chest, adrenaline sending tingles clear down to your toes. You’re dizzy with fear. You aren’t sure what’s scarier - actually doing what you’re meant to, or having to report that you didn’t.
You’re both stuck there - a tableau, an oil painting, frozen for eternity, never moving on from this moment. A million possibilities stretch on as Yoongi’s pulse beats visibly against the knife he’d sharpened for you just days ago.
You feel like you’re floating outside your body; you can’t feel any of it - not the knife’s handle against your palm, not Yoongi’s hips still pinning yours, not the sticks and stones beneath your spine, not the sticky humidity of a night on the precipice of storm. Not your own thrumming, frightened heartbeat.
You know you can’t do it - not this way. Not like this, not with his eyes on yours, steady, as if he’s not staring down his death. Not like this, looking into his face and remembering the first time you were under him this way, remembering every time after that. Your hand trembles as you will yourself not to pull the blade away.
But he knows. Yoongi’s always called your every bluff, has always been perfectly capable of shooting you a knowing half-smile and pushing right past your blustering, always able to find the person on the other side of the facade - the person who’s scared,confused, alone.
“No you won’t,” he murmurs, low, and there’s nothing accusing or mocking in it. He’s simply telling you what he knows.
Slowly, carefully, he lowers his face closer to yours, so deliberately that the knife slides harmlessly along his skin until he’s clear of it. He presses his lips to yours, uncertain at first, then with more insistence when you don’t push him away.
The fear and adrenaline crash through you in time with a not-so-distant crack of thunder, blinding you, rendering you thoughtless and animalistic. You drop the knife with a thud, barely aware that you’re doing it, your hand coming instead to tangle in his loose hair, clutching it tightly at the base of his neck and pressing his head closer to yours, kissing him deeper, needing to absolutely drown in his kiss.
He grunts at your enthusiasm, nipping at your bottom lip before diving into you again, licking deep into your mouth and pressing his hips down into yours in rhythm with the kiss. You move with him desperately, the quiet of the woods scattered by your combined gasping breaths, tiny sounds of pleasure slipping through the cracks in your armor, the wet sounds of your mouths coming apart and meeting again hungrily. Despite the earth solid beneath you, you feel like you’re spinning. You clutch him tightly, one hand in his hair and the other arm coming around his shoulders, tethering him to you.
He’s the only thing keeping you here, in the present, not skittering off to somewhere safe inside your head.
You let him hold you there, pressed between him and the unyielding ground below you, channel all the rushing adrenaline into how you meet his fiery kisses, pressing your mouth hard back against his like it’s a battle, into how you roll your hips against his, thrilling at feeling him hard and ready for you. But for all the intensity, for the dizziness sweeping over you, neither of you rushes - you kiss for so long that your lips tingle, your core throbs, the night grows blacker, the thunder tiptoes closer.
You swipe your tongue over his familiar lips, whining in your throat when he opens for you again, welcomes you in, rocks against you and closes his eyes against the sting as you unconsciously tighten your fingers in his hair.
Then he breaks the kiss, pulls himself free of your grasp, nudges his nose to the underside of your jaw until you lean your head back, breathing hard, giving him room to attach teeth and lips to the skin of your neck.
He gathers a bit of skin and worries it between his teeth, muttering, “You won’t kill me. No one else can make you come undone like I do.”
The sound that tears out of you is half laugh and half desperate groan. “Prove it, then,” you goad, fingers finding the hem of his shirt and pulling the edge towards you. He releases the spot on your neck long enough to let you pull the material over his head. Then he sits back on his knees between your legs and looks you over, one hand absently sliding down the front of his trousers, pressing relief into his waiting cock.
“Yours,” he says, tone steely. You find your own hem with shaking fingers. Distantly, there’s a flash of lightning, illuminating the canopy of tree branches above you before plunging you into darkness again. You pull your top over your head and drop it next to his, leaning back on your elbows.
All thoughts of what you’re supposed to do here have left you; there’s only hands-shaking adrenaline and instinct driving you to give in to your desires and pursue what you want - Yoongi, Yoongi, more of Yoongi.
“Trousers, too,” Yoongi tells you, voice quiet. His fingers are on the string of his own trousers, but his eyes are on your exposed chest. Hungry.
You do as he says, untying your bottoms and pushing them away with your feet and waiting for his next move. The night isn’t cold, but you shiver. The forest, your forest, feels like a sanctuary, like it’s wrapping around the two of you and keeping you safe from everything outside. Like if you stayed in here, together, you might be safe from her after all.
But you know that’s a lie.
You push the thought away by coming up on your knees and approaching Yoongi, who’s still kneeling, too. You press your chest to him with a shudder as you reach to kiss him again. He gives a quiet, happy noise low in his throat and you answer with a hum as you lick into him again.
You slip a hand between your bodies and find him heavy and leaking. He presses into your touch with a nearly-silent keen that you manage to catch, and you trace your fingertips up his length, playing in the wetness you find waiting for you at the tip, then pulling that wetness down to the base again. You repeat the motion, touch featherlight, and listen to Yoongi’s breathing hitch and catch and sigh as he closes his eyes and enjoys it. He’s silky against your fingertips, skin like satin even here.
Yoongi trails kisses down your jaw, making a clear path towards your neck, and he skims a hand up your side and past your ribs, cupping one breast and rubbing his thumb roughly over your hardening nipple. You gasp, fingers twitching against his length, which spurs him on. He runs his knuckles lightly over the bud, then takes it gently between his thumb and forefinger, giving it an experimental roll. Your gasped ah turns into a liquid moan and he does it again, harder. You keen, a note of complaint in it, as he repeats the movement that is somehow both too much and not enough.
You wrap your hand fully around him, done teasing him with barely-there strokes, and roll your wrist once, twice, three times, his low grumbling reply music to your ears. He’s still mouthing at your neck and he switches hands, igniting sparks as he gently pinches the other nipple instead. Then he reaches and bumps your wrist out of his way as he cups your sex and spears you on his middle finger.
“Fuck, Yoongi,” you whine, rocking into his hand, trying to take the digit just a little deeper.
He must hear the desperation in your tone or sense it in the way you clench around his single finger, because he takes mercy on you and presses a second finger in beside the first. You sigh, still rocking against his hand, as he fucks into the spot in your front wall that makes your eyes drift closed and your toes curl up. You abandon his cock, bringing your hands to his shoulders, hanging on to keep yourself upright. When he presses his thumb against your clit you groan, loud and long, no one to hear you, and let your head fall back.
“That’s right,” he murmurs, plunging his fingers in and out of your wet heat. You can hear it each time he pushes them back in, the sound ringing in the silent woods, the only competition the approaching rolls of gentle thunder.
He works you up until you’re panting, your forehead dropping to rest against his collarbone, your hips in constant motion as you seek more. Your arms are looped around his neck, though you don’t remember starting to hold him, and your fingers find the ends of his long hair, tugging lightly in time with his motions. Occasionally his thumb circles your clit, causing your hips to jerk, but the angle stops him from keeping it constant. He pulls his hand away, and you take a bracing breath, coming back to your senses as the sensations fade.
He drops back from his knees, one arm behind his head as he lays back. He locks his eyes on yours as he strokes himself, his teeth toying with his bottom lip.
“Come on, then,” he prompts, his hand languid and lazy on his cock. Your body buzzes as you climb over him and sink down, letting him fill you, stretch you, break you into pieces. You ride him hard, one hand splayed on his flushed chest for balance, as around you the wind picks up, the leaves on the trees fluttering.
Yoongi’s eyes screw closed and his head tips back, even as his hands continue to guide your hips through each rise and fall.
You slow, savoring the drag against your walls, savoring his pretty skin beneath your fingers, savoring the grunts and hitched breaths he’s trying to hold back.
You could have loved Yoongi. In another life, where you had chips to bargain with. In a life where you fit into place within the village, where wild wasn’t as necessary to you as air. Even if the Queen had never called for Yoongi’s head - this life never meant for you to love him.
This is what you think about as you lightly rake your nails down his chest, watching him squirm beneath you. You think about all the times he’d been on the edge of saying it.
You think about all the times the feeling had risen up in you, as warm as a patch of sunlit floor, and you’d had to blow it away like an errant dandelion seed.
Maybe you do love him. You just can’t forget - not for a second - how little it matters.
The knife sits where you’d dropped it before undressing, just past Yoongi’s head.
You could probably reach it now.
Yoongi seems to sense the change in your motions and cracks an eye open, his fingers on your hips loosening.
His gaze follows yours. A flash of lightning makes the metal shine for a split second, and then you’re surrounded by the sudden patter of falling rain.
“Guess we better hurry,” Yoongi mutters, reaching up to grip the back of your neck and pulling you down so your chest is flush with his.
All thoughts leave your mind as he hammers into you from below - the knife is forgotten. Your feelings are forgotten. The rain, starting to muddy up the ground around you, forgotten.
You cum around him in silence, jaw clenched, fingers digging into his biceps. The groan he lets out as you squeeze around him in waves is drowned out by a growl of thunder that feels like it’s right above you, all around you.
Yoongi pumps into you with abandon, suddenly losing the rhythm he’d created. He gives two more shuddery thrusts and then lets his arms flop to the ground with a contented sigh.
For a second, you both lay there, sweat-slick and panting. Another lightning splits the sky, and the rain comes harder. He slides out of you and you wiggle until you’re laying just next to him instead of on top of him.
You can’t stop looking at him. He seems determined not to look at you.
The rain washes everything away - the smell of sex, your sweat, your affection, your sadness, your pride.
“My father,” he murmurs beneath you, and you go deathly still. “Yes, I knew.”
You swallow, brush rainwater from your brow. “So does the Queen,” you say back. An explanation, and an answer to the why he’d leveled at you an hour ago.
He nods slowly, expression clearing with understanding.
You feel no absolution for it.
Finally, he leans his head back again, his bangs flopping heavily now that they’re saturated with rainwater, and eyes the knife.
You sit up. He brings his eyes to you and watches silently - as if he accepts whatever move you make. As if, should you reach for the metal, he wouldn’t fight you this time.
“Go.” The word tumbles roughly onto the inch of mud between you. You don’t remember making the decision to say it.
He sits up, elbows and shoulders caked with mud. But all he does is watch you, wait for you to change your mind.
“Go,” you repeat, meaning it. Now that you’ve said it once, now that the decision was made, you know it’s the right one. “I’ll tell her it’s done.”
You could never kill him. You both knew it all along.
He dresses wordlessly, and you do the same, pulling your top back over your head and tying up your trouser string. When you look up, he’s standing in the rain, watching you.
You stoop and grab the knife he’d made you. You grip it tightly in your hand, refuse to meet his eyes.
He’s not challenging you, not questioning you - and that, in itself, feels like a slap.
“You can’t come back,” you say, as evenly as you can muster. When he just looks at you, infuriatingly silent, you add, “You can’t. Okay? If she - she can never know.”
“I know,” he says, and then he gives you a long, searching look. He’s drenched now, and your hands itch to push his set hair away from his face, to use your thumbs to chase raindrops - you think - away from his lashline.
Then, choked, he offers, “You could -”
“Don’t,” you bite out, stopping him before he can make you any kind of offer. You can’t. You can’t go with him. You can’t disappear into the night. Your brother is counting on you. You won’t let him pay for your sins.
Yoongi shakes his head. He takes another step closer. Your fingers tighten on the knife’s handle.
“Y/N, I -”
You raise the knife above your head in a flash, eyes going wide in fury.
“Fucking go!” you bark.
He holds up his hands, takes a few steps backwards, giving up his quest to make this harder than it needs to be. Lightning illuminates him and above your head, the blade shines for a split second before everything is cast into inky darkness again.
When your eyes adjust to the darkness, trees around you forming a shape again, he’s gone.
You don’t follow him, and you don’t return to your cabin. You sink to your knees in the mud, dropping the knife onto the ground, and sob into your hands, the noise swallowed by the flurry of rain and the intermittent cracks of thunder.
—
You sleep. You hunt. When the time comes, you bring your scores to the Queen atop your wagon.
She doesn’t ask you about Yoongi. You don’t offer her anything, just thank her for her grace routinely when she orders your purse to be filled.
You don’t stop at the tavern on the way back home. You don’t stop at any of the shops - not this time. You don’t trust yourself to act right if Yoongi’s disappearance gets brought up. You don’t trust that no one will do the math that he vanished four nights ago, and now you’re a hollowed shell who can’t form words.
The townspeople have seen you grieve before. They’d know what they were seeing.
The next trip is easier, and the one after that even more. The Queen never thanks you, not that you expected it, but you start finding an extra purse of coins in your wagon each time you return to it after bringing in your kills.
The price for your silence. The price for what she thinks you’ve done.
It hurts the most when your wagon passes the smithy, but you keep your eyes on the cobblestones and your hands on the reins and eventually the hurt fades along with the village as you get farther and farther away.
The seasons turn. The hurts fade. You send extra money to your brother. You sleep. You hunt.
Eventually, you stop waking up from nightmares that feature the glint of metal. You stop waking up trying desperately to cling to your dreams as fruitlessly as clinging to smoke, left with only damp places on your pillow and the memory of a low, throaty chuckle ringing in your ears.
Eventually, you can ride past the smithy without the pang in your chest. You can stop for a pint without watching the shadows for the appearance of a gummy smile. You can laugh when the bartender cracks a joke, can sound like yourself when you ask the baker’s daughter how she’s been faring.
It is after one of these trips, deep into color-saturated autumn, that you return to your cabin with wagon empty and purses full.
Something isn’t right. You freeze, casting your eyes around the forest, but it holds its secrets tight.
On the ground in front of your door, illuminated by the late afternoon sunlight, is a brand new, shining blade.
thank you so much for reading!!! i really really like this one and i hope you do too!! <3
#bts x reader#bts fanfic#bts fic#yoongi fanfic#yoongi fic#yoongi x reader#yoongi smut#yoongi angst#yoongi x you#yoongi x y/n#min yoongi fic#min yoongi fanfic#min yoongi smut#min yoongi angst#fairy tale au#fic: the price
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A Perfect Score - Chapter 7 - Avalanche | FigureSkating!AU
Summary: With some time to spare before the finals, you return to the Hightower/Targaryen Household, a million questions on your mind | Word Count: 6.8k~ | Warnings under the cut~
Series Masterlist | Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist
Warnings: smut straight out the gate, swearing, degradation, aemond being a sexual menace, a lot of dirty talk, p in v unprotected sex, marijuana use, hotboxing, oral (m receiving), face-fuccin, swallowing, toxic family relationships, implied p in v under the influence
A/N: yeah the whole hotboxing in a wendy house is actually a true story, my mum did it with my aunty when I was a kid (I wasn't there lol), so yeah thought it'd be fun to pop that in. ANYWAY feel somewhat self conscious of this chapter cos I feel like not much happens but OH WELL
Comments, reblogs & likes are always appreciated in this household. I love u 😚
You thought he might have been joking.
But he was playing a dangerous game.
Hotel check-out, they said, was 10:00am. Aemond has simply shrugged and hummed in agreement, not giving the receptionist the impression that he cared.
He'd made good on his promise after the match you'd won, practically dragging you to Arryk's car having made his pleasantries, pictures and casual conversations with the judges.
But after that? He was a man on a mission.
Arryk's car was deadly quiet the entire ride back to the hotel, the sun beginning to dip against the buildings by the time you got back. And some of the hotel residents had looked on with one eyebrow raised as Aemond's led you hurriedly through the foyer, still in your outfits.
As soon as the lift doors were shut, he was on you.
Hungry. Like he'd finally been allowed out of his proverbial cage, desperate for a freedom he found in having you all to himself.
He spent the majority of that evening between your thighs, basking in said freedom.
A beam was bleeding through the slits between the curtains, but the light against the warm cotton made the room feel soft and inviting. It was like the feeling of rolling around in fresh bed sheets and tired lazy mornings.
The soft slapping of Aemond's hips against yours was the only sound that managed to disturb this tranquil morning, as well as the hushed murmurs of his words against your tacky skin, and the softened tumblings of tiny moans from your lips.
You've lost track of how many times he's made you cum by now.
It's all a haze of the closest intimacy, the room smells of sex, humid from your bare bodies being pressed against each other.
" - Aemond - we have to - ah, fuck - we have to check out soon -" you manage in a breathless whisper, the air constantly being fucked out of your lungs with each desperate slam of his cock in the deepest parts of you.
You feel him, how his cockhead bullies the rough, spongy spot inside you. Unsure if you can even handle another orgasm. How Aemond is even doing this right now is beyond reason, the amount of sleep this man is running on.
Aemond grins against your ear, groaning lowly at the feeling of your nails scraping against the nape of his neck. If your previous trysts have been quickies, this time it's lazy and languid, almost thoughtful.
"You can give me one more before that" he growls, voice vibrating in his chest pressed flush against yours.
Your eyebrows furrow together, the pressure building whether you want it to or not, the way his length drags against your over-sensitive walls is too much and yet not enough. Feeling both numb and tender. Head feeling as if it's airy and empty, all you're able to think about is him and how he's making you feel.
Your body moves with the pace of his thrusts, breasts faintly bouncing alongside it, sticky from the previous rounds' half-dried spend. His fingers dig into the meat of your hips, anchoring you to him, inevitably leaving marks in their wake.
He leans forward on his knees, his firm, muscular and athletic thighs, hardened from years of training, brushing against your own. The movement has his cock brushing against your cervix sensitively.
His hands, fingers long and lithe, hold your thighs and lift them higher and to your sides, widening you for him and granting himself deeper access. Your face heats up instantly being so on show, eyes glazed over with lust when you look at him.
His hair falling around his face, messily. His wide shoulders and slim waist, muscles flexing as he adjusts your position. As well as the warmth blooming in your core, it also does so in your stomach, and you briefly fear what it could mean.
You watch as Aemond keeps your legs elevated, his hips moving once more against you, his skin tapping against yours audibly with how wet you are.
You swear you've never been more aroused in your life.
The coil winds tightly inside you, watching how diligently and carefully he fucks you. As rough as the actions are, there is a softness in the way he holds your flesh in his palms.
"Come on, we don't want to be late now do we, pretty girl" he grins, lips parted to breathe with each thrust, a sheen of sweat covering his neck and chest, catching the light between his pecks.
If his movements don't finish you off, that most certainly does.
It's almost worse being in the back of Arryk's car with Aemond after all of that. Like the tension hasn't disappeared one bit. And you try to busy yourself with something else, like putting some music on or staring out the window. But nothing seems to help.
After successfully making it to the check out time, Aemond smirking the entire time he was giving his keycard back, you both faced the onslaught of reporters who hung around the entrance of the hotel where Arryk's car was parked. All wanting a glimpse and/or a word from the finalists who were warming up to each other visibly.
The flash of the cameras blinded you, and you recoiled with the appearance of several microphones shoved in your path with such personal questions, all talking over one another.
You at least made out that they suspected there was some romance involved.
Aemond, with his tall, beanpole form, had blocked the view with his body, rounding the car to open the door for you. He didn't seem to flinch as he parted his path between the reporters to get in himself. You supposed being the prodigal son of Viserys Targaryen and Alicent Hightower will do that to someone.
Idly you scrolled through your phone, seeing the various recommended news articles about the famed finalists.
Ice Prince and Princess demolish the semi-finals with their sensual performance.
Aemond Targaryen. New partner or new lover?
The ice has melted with our finalist couple keeping each other warm.
That last one made you cringe and click off your phone.
Even though things were better, and he had at least apologised, you couldn't help but have more questions. Mostly around Floris? Could you really believe Larys? And did Aemond have this kind of relationship with her as well? Perhaps that had been the reason behind her 'accident'?
Part of you, the doubtful part, thought that he'd only done all this, get close to you and sweeten you up, to improve the performance. Give him a better chance at winning.
You didn't want to think about that possibility. And yet it lingered.
Instead you focussed on the final. The final.
And against all the fucking people, it was the Martells.
Ugh.
But at least there was more time between the last match and the finals now. Time to prepare.
That meant going back to the large Targaryen House, back to 'normality'. You itched to be around other people again, as being around Aemond made your skin prickle up almost uncomfortably. Maybe it was not knowing where you stood with him.
The car zoomed past the electric gates and Helaena and Alicent were waiting outside, Helaena beaming with joy and waving and Alicent, ever graceful, hands clasped at her front, smiling fondly at the return of her son.
As soon as you got out of the car, Helaena threw her arms around you, her hair emanating her signature lavender-like scent, but as soon as she pulled back she had a knowing smirk on her face, which mildly panicked you.
Alicent made her pleasantries, hugging her abnormally tall son and guiding you both inside. Helaena grabbed your hand, following shortly behind, giving you the side-eye.
"What?" You asked her.
"Oh don't give me that. I have some questions for you later"
You didn't have time to roll your eyes before a loud, ear-splitting bark reverberated off the waxed floor, the click of claw-lined paws echoing as a large Great Dane, who was clearly on the older side, bounded happily towards Aemond, heedless of its true size, and tackled him successfully to the floor.
"Umf! Gods Vhagar" Aemond hummed annoyedly, but the smile on his face when the large dog stood on his chest and licked his face betrayed his true feelings. You'd rarely seen Aemond properly smile, so seeing the boyish excitement on his face was…a strange welcome feeling.
Aemond laid there, back flat on the wax floor, accepting his fate. The dog named Vhagar you surmised, once done with its vicious attack, looked up curiously to you, tongue and tail wagging with equal vigour. Aemond tilted his head back to look at you, amused, the dog's paws planted firmly on his pecks.
"This is Vhagar, she doesn't like gir-"
Vhagar barked and made for you, taking mercy somewhat and only jumped up to rest her paws on your chest, craning her head for pets, which you were more than happy to give, paying special attention to her neck and ears as a wide smile graced your face.
"Good girl, Vhagar" you praised, her tongue still hanging out her mouth excitedly. Aemond raised his eyebrows, shocked and happy to see that reaction, as if to say 'I stand corrected'.
"I didn't know you had a dog" you say, watching as Vhagar gallops back over to Aemond, sitting at his feet as he stands and brushes himself off, looking up to him with admiration.
"We all do. Family tradition. They've been at the kennel for a bit" he explains, shoving his hands in his pockets. At the mention of the word 'kennel', Vhagar puts her tongue away, staring with worry, as if she was horrified. Aemond hums a laugh.
Alicent claps once, gathering all your attention. She's elegant as always, long sleeved top and a black slinky skirt, her hair perfectly tied back and held with a gold accessory.
"Well! It's lunchtime, you can tell us all about the tour over some cheese and wine, yes?" She beams.
Ah yes, back to aristocratic 'reality'.
Outside, the table was set with a gorgeous spread of brightly coloured food, plates and such as well. Otto seemed not to be present, and with that, the mood was lighter, less business-like and more like a family.
That as well as the presence of another silver-haired brother, much too skinny to be Aegon.
Aemond shoved his arm around their neck playfully, dragging him up, “Baby brother, are you geriatric? Your senses are getting worse”
You and Helaena watch with amusement as the smaller silver-haired brother goes pink, stuck in the hold Aemond has him in, “The fuck is wrong with you, Aem, get off!”
“Aeg, get his legs” Aemond smirks, scooping his arms under the smaller brother’s, “Daeron, you look hot, how about a dunk?”
“No! No, Aegon, stop it!” he protests, but the oldest brother simply smirks, a cigarette hanging from between his teeth as the two shuffle over to the pond in the middle of the garden, “Don’t encourage him, Aeg, put me down!”
“Well that’s not fun then, is it?” Aegon grins,
Helaena laughs, simply watching but not helping, “Think of it as punishment for being away from us for so long!”
“That’s not fair, Hel!” he shouts as Aegon and Aemond begin to swing, chanting ‘a leg and a wing, to see the king’.
“Boys, put your brother down, the meat’s getting cold!” Alicent calls, bringing out the iced lemon water.
With a huff, they do as they’re told, Daeron landing to the floor with a thud. The youngest brushes the grass off his slacks, smiling at you as if he’s just noticed you’re here.
“Sorry, Daeron” he smiles politely, shaking your hand.
You smile, “A pleasure”
“Dig in, everyone” Alicent beams, setting down one last plate of bread rolls, “I’ll just get some cutlery”
Aegon huffs in his seat, “Look delicious, mother. Who can I thank for such a spread?”
Alicent taps the back of his head in a playful scold as she’s walking past, “Me, you cheeky little so-and-so”
You laugh as you take your own seat next to Helaena.
Without Otto here, the atmosphere is warm, everyone’s happy. A stark contrast to your first evening spent in the formal cave-like atmosphere of the dining room, feeling left-out and ostracised.
It’s more like a family now.
Conversation flows exceptionally well, all the tension now completely fizzled out with the soft, warm afternoon sun just dipping beneath the trees, flooding their garden with an orangey glow. Aemond and Aegon badgered their youngest, Daeron, about his studies and why he went to see Aegon instead of Aemond on tour, harmlessly teasing him on having favourites.
Alicent watched her three sons with motherly joy, but mostly chatted idly with you and Helaena.
After a glass of wine, Helaena now loosened, she confided in you quietly about the tour.
"Think I'm losing it" she mused,
"Losing what?"
She looked at you, violet eyes catching the sun, "My touch. The tour was okay but we got annihilated by the fucking Stormlands of all people" she scoffed.
"Who was representing Pairs for that?"
"Cass Barath and some guy she used to go to school with. They couldn't fucking stand each other but won on technical"
Couldn't stand each other.
That sounds familiar.
Or rather sounded.
"Shame. We could've been against one another" you smile, tapping your glass with your nail.
"Gods, if we went up against you after the last performance we'd have no chance" she smirks, "I have questions for you, don't think I've forgotten"
At the idea of telling Hel your face flushes briefly, turning away to try and hide it, just as Aemond has turned to you, Daeron talking his ear off. He gives a lazy smirk, somewhat bashful, as he looks down into his lap where his hands are clasped.
The evening was so peaceful it made a pain in your heart. And you wished it was like this for them all the time.
Alicent smiled, tapping her hand on top of yours, "Congratulations, sweet girl. We're very proud of you both"
You can't help the drop in your heart when she says that.
She speaks to you like she would a daughter.
It's a warmth you've not known for some time.
And she sees the way your face is completely relaxed, like nobody had ever said that they were proud of you before. There's a sadness in her expression.
When was the last time someone said that to you?
Estranged from your own parents, you honestly can't remember.
So you swallow over the lump in your throat and nod gratefully, trying not to show how deeply her small act of kindness has affected you.
"Thank you"
She smiles reassuringly, but it doesn't quite make it to her eyes, like she knows exactly what you're thinking.
A mother's intuition is never wrong.
She pats your hand once before pulling away, "You know, you remind me so much of someone I used to know"
You cock your head, "Who?"
Alicent visibly swallows, her eyes casting back, "An old friend" she says, smiling at the memory, "she was so sure of herself, unapologetically so. And she never let other people tell her what she should think"
You laugh lightly, "She sounds more confident than me"
"You are as well" she reassures, "I remember my last match you know.
I always wore blue, for my performances. But this particular day, my father got me to wear dark green, as an…homage of sorts, to Oldtown" she recounts, "I loved that outfit"
Her face falls somewhat then.
"I still can't watch that performance. Knowing it was my last"
Your heart aches in sympathy for her.
"And I can't look at that outfit without turning sad" she says distantly, her chocolate brown eyes looking down sadly.
You, of course, know this story to some extent. Banned from competing entirely, which seemed a very harsh judgement from the committee, but a decision was made nonetheless. You remember briefly watching reruns of her performance, how happy she looked then. How absolutely natural she was.
She didn't seem like she'd aged much at all. She certainly didn't look as if she had four children all grown.
You can't help but feel as if she had to grow up quickly.
"I'm just going to go and get some napkins, darling" she says with a polite smile, as if the conversation hadn't happened, standing up and excusing herself to the kitchen.
"So!" Aegon starts, "'Ice Princess', huh?"
You give him a playful glare, "Shut up"
"What!"
"I thought it was nice" Daeron says timidly,
"Don't you start" you retort, face heating rapidly as Aemond just sits back and lets the chaos ensue, with a satisfied smirk on his face.
"It was a good routine. Our grandfather wasn't much pleased" Aegon grins,
Aemond does too, "I bet he wasn't"
Helaena cocks her head, "What made you switch up the routine?"
Just as you're about to open your mouth, Aemond gets there before you do.
"I just gave her some advice in the dressing room" he grins mischievously, "looks like it worked"
Your lips slam shut at his words, a kind of dull, ache settling between your legs, reminding you of this morning, when Aemond had you in a rather precarious position. You hope to every god that exists that your face doesn't show it, as you stare him down.
He just looks impressed with himself.
You're not sure if it's the chill of the evening or the effect of Aemond that has goose bumps on your arms.
Just as Alicent comes back outside, Helaena takes your hand, standing quickly.
Thank the gods for that.
"I'm freezing, Mum. We're going to go inside"
"Alright, darling" she smiles.
You spare a look over your shoulder as she hurries you through the glass doors into the kitchen. Of course, Aemond is watching, his gaze unapologetically roaming over what you're wearing.
You don't miss Aegon's knowing smirk either, which never fails to make you roll your eyes.
"Hel, what the fuck is this?" You laugh as Hel hurries you to a secluded area near the trees.
There, nestled between two oak trees, is a tiny little wendy house, clearly purpose built, and by now definitely looking it's age, with single paned windows and fading blue paint.
"Otto had it built it for me when I was five" she uses all her possible strength to pull the door open, the wood having swollen with age and damp. It eventually gives with a squeak, dust billowing between you both, "come on"
You duck, slipping past the threshold, "You're not gonna axe murder me in here, right?"
She scoffs and pulls the swollen wood back into place, the windows rattling in the frames as she does, "If I was an axe murderer you'd be dead by now"
She produces a rather worn plastic bag, with several freshly rolled spliffs stuffed inside.
"Sorry I just assumed you did-"
"I don't often" you shrug, "but when in Rome" you smile.
She passes you one and sticks one into her mouth.
"Where did you even get these?"
She grins as she pulls out a lighter, "Aegon. He sells them"
She blows the first buff out from between her lips, tossing you the lighter, "So you stole them?"
She shrugs, "I'm his sister. I'm just borrowing them"
"Hmm" you hum as you light yours as well.
You both pull yourself only the ledges opposite each other, knees almost touching as you draw a few breaths in, the effect of it warming your throat and chest, your head already starting to feel lighter. The smoke fills the tiny wendy house, only serving to heighten the intensity.
"Right. Spill" Hel grins.
"Gods Hel, I'm not even high yet!"
"I don't care. Spill"
You give her a look, "He's your brother"
"Yeah I don't want the nasty fucking details, just keep it vague please"
"Alright, alright" you laugh, sighing between drags, "Well…"
"When did it happen?" she asks, raising her eyebrows.
You roll your eyes, "The first night at the hotel"
"The first night?!" She shouts in shock, leaning forward and mouth agape, "How-"
You can't help but laugh at her reaction. She'd obviously expected more of a romantic lead up to what occurred on that night, the memory making you squeeze your thighs together.
Helaena listens intently, asking the odd question, the effects of the drug must be getting to her as well because sometimes she asks the same one twice.
Explaining it all to someone else, it makes it all feel a bit more real, and you're eager to see how his sister, the person who knows him perhaps the closest, will react to your side of the story.
"In the dressing room??" She grimaces, "you guys are fucking disgusting. I don't think I can watch that performance the same way ever again"
You laugh, the effect of the drugs now weathering away your inhibitions.
You suppose there's no time like the present to ask an innocent question.
"Can I ask you something, Hel?"
"I'm all ears" she responds.
Your fingernails tap against the worn out wood, nervously, "Were…Aemond and Floris…"
Helaena doesn't even let you finish.
"Oh fuck no. Absolutely not. When Floris was here he'd find any excuse to not be around her. It was quite funny really. But no, he's not really been with any girl since that fucking dinosaur"
Oh, Alys...
It's embarrassing, the relief that gives you.
"Floris just couldn't hack Aemond, she just thought he was…a cryptid weirdo. Aemond in turn just thought she was dumb and didn't care much for her skills"
"Was she not very good?"
"She'd be alright on her own, but she didn't collaborate well. Couldn't take criticism" she says, and you can tell by the tone of her voice that she's trying to be as nice as possible.
"Right…"
"So, you and Aemond…you're all good now?"
You sigh, honestly not knowing the answer yourself, "I think so?"
"You mean…you don't know?" she snorts, "surely if you two are smashing you're all good"
"Not really. I catch myself half-thinking about what he said, what I said, what's happened-"
"Yes, but Aemond's apologised, you said" Hel reasons, the small stream of smoke blooming from her spliff.
A warmth of embarrassment blooms in your chest.
"Yes but…I haven't"
Hel cocks her head, "What do you-"
Light floods the Wendy house as the door swings open, both of you squinting your eyes shut, having to somewhat sober up as the smoke is sucked out. Aemond grabs the doorframe, showing just how comically small the Wendy house is compared to him, and sticks his head in, crinkling his nose.
"Using your Wendy house to hotbox again?"
"Yeah until you came to ruin it!" Hel says.
Aemond laughs lowly, sparing a glance at you and plucking the spliff from your fingers to take a drag of his own before returning it. The act, weirdly, has your skin burning where he'd touched.
Hel pushes off the ledge, brushing past her brother, stubbing out her spliff on the side of the doorway, "I'll leave you two"
You look at her in shock as she crosses the greenery, watching as she passes you a smug grin over her shoulder, knowing full well she's leaving you alone with Aemond to torture you.
Aemond barely manages to fit inside the Wendy house with his height as he occupies the spot where Helaena was.
"What were you girls talking about?" He asks, his arms leaning against the ledge. He's wearing his usual, entirely black get up, something so unapologetically Aemond that you don't even question it. But the way his arms look in the short sleeved shirt never fails to send flutters in your belly.
So you just laugh anxiously and stub the spliff out.
"Just girly stuff"
He raises an eyebrow, "girly stuff?" He asks, pushing the hair back over the top of his head with his fingers.
Fuck. Him. For being so attractive.
Your mind whirs uncomfortably, confronted with him. If you don't say anything, who knows is Hel might.
"About you and Floris"
"Ah" he says, smiling, "is someone jealous?"
"No"
He presses his lips together like he doesn't believe you.
"In any case, if you were, there's nothing to be jealous about, princess"
You roll your eyes at the nickname.
You bite your lip, "and about how it's come to this. You and me" you start, "Hel and every other person in Westeros by the sounds of it"
He huffs a laugh, "Yeah I've seen the news articles"
Your mind swirls, his presence coupled by the effect of the drug have made everything feel like it's been turned up to 100. The warmth inside the Wendy house now that the doors closed, your knees nudging against each other, his broad form, almost encompassing every square foot.
It's here you realise he's not taken his gaze off you. Possibly feeling the same way himself.
"What?" You ask with a drowsy smile.
He shakes his head.
"Nothing" he answers, suddenly looking anywhere but at you. You swear you see a blush on his face.
The smoking has made you more aloof, so you step forward, running your hand up the inside of his arm, almost pressed flush with him.
"C'mon tell me" you insist, smiling mischievously, "I could practically hear you thinking"
He turns his head, sighing, but not really annoyed. He's quiet for a moment, like he's considering something, like he wants to say something. But all thoughts are sapped from you when his palm cups your face, his thumb runs across your bottom lip, barely applying pressure.
It's his fixed look that holds you though, his reverent gaze at your lips, flitting to your eyes that glimmer with a sort of drunken haze.
It almost sobers you up entirely.
You wonder what he's thinking, he's so difficult to read.
The thoughts don't last. Aemond leans down to press his lips to yours, the naturally curved shape of them anchors your mouth open to taste you briefly. Both of you taste of tobacco and smoke, mixed together with the musk of his scent. You don't know why it drives you so crazy. Nobody has made you feel like that…ever.
It's tender. Almost loving.
Embroiled in the heat of the moment, arm wraps around your waist, pulling you flush to him, and you smile somewhat against his lips feeling his hardness pressed against his sweatpants.
With enlarged confidence due to lack of inhibitions, your hand winds down his body, your palm running over his length, and it's clear by the way he delivers a stuttered groan into your mouth that he enjoys it immensely and was also not expecting it.
You only part when both of your hands stop at the waistband of his sweatpants.
"What are you doing" he asks, his voice hoarse in anticipation.
"What does it look like" you smirk, lips still close to his, teasing him, "taking care of you"
Pushing them just past his hips, your hand slips down the front, past his tummy, to his achingly hard cock, wrapping your fingers around him and pumping slowly.
"I don't hear you complaining..." you smile.
" - fuck - baby…"
You can't help but love it when he calls you that. Like it just comes so naturally.
A wicked idea strikes across your mind like a match. Your eyes light up, loving the way he's giving the illusion of being at your mercy, when in reality he could very easily flip the switch and be his usual cocksure self.
His breath seems to get sucked from his lungs when you kneel down before him, looking up at him dreamily while tugging his sweatpants down enough to free his cock, standing entirely hard against his muscled stomach, the tip ruddy and leaking with arousal.
He has such a pretty cock it's difficult to look away, and you feel your own arousal pool deep in your stomach in anticipation, tracing your palm from base to tip, caressing his length with care. Watching how his grip is white-knuckled and tight on the ledge, the wood cracking under it.
You've not done this yet with Aemond. It's always been him pleasing you.
This time it'd be different, even if he was only pretending to be in control.
Aemond watches with lips parts as you lower your mouth to the base of him, drawing a line with your tongue agonisingly slowly over the prominent vein on the underside, all the way to the tip, swirling your tongue around where he's most sensitive. It has a shuddered breath escape Aemond, with something akin to a whine.
He shuts his eyes, his fingers carding through your hair at the side of your face, all the way to the back, curling them and tugging at the follicles pleasurably.
You've slept together, but you've never seen his cock up this close, and it's a shame, because he's perfect. Thinking about taking him into your mouth is just too good an opportunity to pass up, and the heady scent of his skin just has you wanting to devour him.
" - please, don't tease m-"
You moan around his length as you take him as far as you can, relaxing your jaw muscles to allow for more, and whatever you can't fit, you caress with your hand. Aemond gasps quietly as your mouth tightens around him when his cockhead hits the back of your throat, his grip tightening in your hair.
It doesn't take long for you to begin properly pleasuring him in earnest, figuring he's been patient enough. You press your tongue to the underside and hollow your cheeks, creating more friction. Aemond looks down, watching the way his cock disappears into your mouth over and over, the length slick with saliva from your efforts.
He meets your rhythm with the soft canting of his hips, using his hold to slightly pull you onto him. You look up at him, watching his hedonistic expression and the way his mouth is slightly open with hurried breaths, pupil blown wide with lust at the lewdness of the act as well as the setting.
" - you're so good - fucking perfect - " he whispers.
The praise goes straight to your core, tightening around nothing, and it only serves to redouble your efforts.
As usual, Aemond feels the need to be assertive, and his hands smooth your hair into a ponytail, one hand gripping it in place and he pulls you off, only a string of saliva connecting either of you.
"Wha-"
"I want to fuck your mouth, baby" He mutters lowly. And in the gentle darkness of the room, with only a whisper of light at one side of his face, he looks mythical. His sudden change of tone has you wet your lips nervously, but also in excitement.
"Can you do that for me?"
You nod once, eager to please him, but also to taste him again.
He smiles slightly, "Good girl"
He pushes off the ledge slightly, standing straight and holding the base of his length, prodding the tip against your lips, the precum making them glisten. Your hands find his muscular thighs for stability.
"Tap my thigh twice if it's too much"
You nod in understanding.
"Open up for me, baby"
He plunges his cock into your mouth, taking his time to sink completely in, until he bottoms out in your mouth, his cockhead now truly tapping the back of your throat. You gag softly at the invasion of him so deeply, your grip tightening.
"Breathe through your nose - that's it - good girl - " He praises lowly, and you do as he says, making the effort to relax.
He starts to slowly fuck your mouth, gauging how much of a pace you're able to take before going any faster. His grip tightens on your hair, tugging at the makeshift ponytail and pulling on it, making you whine around his length, which only serves to urge him on as he uses your head for leverage.
" - such a pretty little mouth - fuck - " he whispers, his hips now moving in earnest, snapping against your mouth with renewed vigour, in search of release, " - you're so perfect - look at me - "
It's hard to look up at him with his cock pistoning into your mouth, but you do, and the look he has is borderline magical. His chest moves quickly with his breathing, a soft smile on his face as he looks down at you with pride.
" - that's it - finally, a good use for your dirty mouth - looks so much better with my cock in it, don't you think?"
You hum around him, trying to relax your jaw as much as possible as his cockhead bullies the back of your throat, a line of saliva running down the side of your mouth.
He laughs, " - baby you're making such a mess on me - such a good little slut - ffffuck- bet that pretty little pussy is soaked from sucking my cock -" his head tilts back, clearly close, and you can tell by the way he goes faster.
Your stomach rolls with delight, face warm with embarrassment, knowing he's entirely right, you squeeze your thighs together for some semblance of friction.
" - you gonna be a good girl and swallow for me? - want me to cum in your dirty fucking mouth? - "
As a way of answering, you press your tongue to the underside again, one of your hands going to his balls to caress them, urging him on, with pleasured tears pricking at your eyes.
" - seven fucking - you're bad, aren't you -" he breathes, " - oh fuck - "
He slams into your mouth forcefully one last time, stilling as his cock throbs on your tongue, feeling his cum at the back of your throat. Joining the line down your chin, a line of his spend also runs down, having completely filled your mouth.
You look up at him for a brief moment, appreciating the way his eye is closed, his breath coming heavily from his lips after what sounds like a shattered whine. His shoulders tremble, and the bit of his tummy you can see poking out from under his shirt clenches uncontrollably, his muscles moving with his breath. It doesn't taste unpleasant, but it's salty and coats your mouth in the most lewd, delicious way. To see him so lost in pleasure is worth it.
His fingers loosen, and stroke your hair lovingly as you swallow as much as you can, thrusting shallowly a few more times with a near pornographic sound. After a moment, he pulls his softening length from your mouth, using one hand to tiredly tuck himself away as he looks down at you, his pupil blown wide enough to eclipse the blue and still trying to regain his breath.
"You're amazing" he praises, his thumb coming to your face to wipe the line of his release, dipping it back into your mouth. You eagerly wrap your lips around his digit, making a show of it while your eyes meet.
He pulls you up to your feet, slamming his lips against yours, heedless of the taste of himself on your tongue as he moans into your mouth. It sucks the air from your lungs, his arms wrapping around you and you in turn wrap yours around his neck.
"I could fuck you all night, you know that?" He whispers between breaks for air.
You've spent so much time with Aemond, less time romantically, but even still, it feels nice to be touched by him, to be praised by him.
He breaks and presses his forehead to yours, eyes shut, completely at ease.
You swallow. The haze now dissipated somewhat.
"I…need to say something"
"Hm?"
"I'm sorry…"
He opens his eyes, brows arched in questioning, "what for, princess?"
Fuck, he needs to stop saying that.
You wet your lips, "For calling you a nepo-baby…"
The reaction you didn't expect from Aemond, was to fucking laugh.
But he does, quiet at first, but gaining traction, his eyes crinkling up into something you've barely seen. His white teeth gleaming in the darkness.
"What?" You smile, nudging his shoulder.
"Has that really been eating you up inside?" He jokes,
"Yes!" You insist, "I've said some…nasty things as well"
Aemond rolls his eye, "You don't need to apologise to me"
"Well I did, so now's the part where you say you forgive me" you reply, cheeks burning with embarrassment.
He hums a laugh, "forgive you?" He grins, "and what if I don't?"
"You have to"
"Hmm" he smirks, "maybe -" he spins you around, pushing you against the opposite ledge, and you're astonished to find him hard, yet again, against your backside. Your hands find purchase on the ledge, keeping yourself up, and your face splits in a gasp when Aemond swiftly pushes his hand past your tummy at your front and swipes two fingers across your drenched folds.
"-You'll have to earn it, princess"
When you returned to your bedroom, with a pleasant ache between your thighs, having shushed and giggled with Aemond when you snuck back in (apart from when he'd nearly knocked a very precious antique sword off the wall), you'd felt a surge of something deep in your gut when stood outside in the hallway.
Aemond could barely keep his hands away, and as well as that, couldn't let go to say goodnight. He'd pulled you to him, littering your face with kisses that always seemed to end with his lips pressed to yours desperately.
When he'd pulled away, looking down at your face in the soft darkness, there was a tug in your chest. He looked so peaceful like this, so calm. And his thumb caressed the skin of your face with care, taking in every little feature.
He opened his mouth, but swiftly closed it.
And said something else instead.
"You're so beautiful"
Though it made your skin bloom all the same, as he so easily managed to do, you felt as if he wanted to say something else. And there were words on your mind as well, that felt too serious to say out loud.
Being this close to him, it felt incredibly intimate and rare, as if something precious had been granted to you.
And you could see the way something melted away when you touched his face, your thumb tracing the bottom of his scar carefully.
You wondered if he knew how beautiful you thought he was as well. If he'd ever been told that.
It seemed like he understood just by the gentle touch, all the little thoughts in your head.
Even if you weren't sure where exactly you stood with Aemond, even though you knew something needed to be addressed, to be defined…
…this felt nice.
But you didn't tell El these details. It would mean she'd ask questions, make you question yourself, and how you feel. You weren't sure if you were ready to confront them.
El was absolutely smug and ecstatic when you told her about what happened. As opposed to Helaena though, El did ask for the nasty details, which you provided some of. But not all. Those were for your own benefit.
You didn't tell her about what Larys had said about Floris though, not until you knew for certain. What did Larys have against Otto anyway? And why would Otto do such a heinous thing?
Supposedly.
You woke early the next morning as you always did, and pulled on a hoodie, with the chill of the day still hanging in the air. Your footsteps were soft from the fluffy socks on the staircase, a soft light emanating from the living room, and hushed angered voices within.
You stopped in your tracks, ears pricked.
Otto was here.
"You will not push Aemond as you pushed me, I will not allow it!" Alicent started, in an accusatory tone.
"I pushed you to be the greatest figure skater in Westeros. Or have you forgotten?" Otto replied, and you could tell from the tone of his voice that he looked smug.
"And pushed me into his arms into the bargain!" She retorts, her voice upset and strained, "Because of you, I am banned from skating competitively! Because of you, I cannot have one good thing of my own, and you robbed me of my only friend!"
There's a silence. You sit on the staircase, feeling wholly bad for prying, but too curious to stop. Alicent sounds as if she is catching her breath.
"And you will not take Aemond from me. You will not rob Aemond of her either"
Your heart freezes.
"She has little to do with this" Otto states,
"She is good for him. Aemond likes her"
Otto scoffs, "It is just business. Aemond knows this, it has been discussed. This is why I do not consult you, you get too emotionally invested"
Just business? You think over the words Otto has just said.
Just business partners?
No, surely…
"They are emotionally invested! I have never seen Aemond as happy with anyone as he is with her! You shall not ruin that with your vicarious ambitions!"
You can't bring yourself to truly believe what Otto has said.
Surely what you both had was more than that…
Anger prickles at your insides.
How he treats his daughter, and by extension his grandchildren, with the exception of Helaena, who he dotes on, angers you.
How could he be so cruel to them like this? Instilling a business-like appearance on a family.
You pull out your phone, typing furiously and quickly, still hearing Alicent and Otto argue in the living room.
What sort of information do you have?
You wait impatiently, but there's no need. Larys replies a few moments later and your heart pounds.
Good to hear from you.
I'll send over all I have as soon as possible.
-Larys S
General Taglist: @blairfox04 | @hb8301 | @jamespotterismydaddy | @nenelysian | @natty2017 | @randomdragonfires | @risefallrise | @theoneeyedprince | @thelittleswanao3 | @tsujifreya | @urmomsgirlfriend1 | @valeskafics | @watercolorskyy
Aemond Taglist (1): @asp3nxx | @avidreader73 | @bellaisasleep | @boofy1998 | @cathy1514 | @dahlias-and-marigolds | @fan-goddess
#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen smut#aemond smut#aemond angst#aemond fic#aemond fanfic#aemond fanfiction#modern!aemond x reader#modern!aemond targaryen x reader#modern!aemond targaryen#modern!aemond smut#modern!aemond fanfiction#modern!aemond fic#modern!aemond#modern!aemond x oc#aemond x oc#aemond x reader#modern aemond#aemond targaryen modern au#modern aemond angst#modern aemond targaryen x reader#modern aemond x you#modern aemond x reader#aemond x y/n#aemond x you#aemond x fem!reader#a perfect score#hotd au#aemond fluff#aemond targaryen x reader
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Could you please do a Charles x Schumacher!reader insta au? Where she’s a chef and they both do a soft launch. I don’t really have much of an idea but can you make it a bit long? Not like with text but just a lot of posts? I hope I’m requesting right lol
I really liked your Danny insta au
Crème De La Crème, Ma Chérie
Lissie note… I really like the idea of reader being a chef! Haven’t seen that before??? You’re giving me a lot of creative freedom and I could not be happier<3 Thanks for this!!!
Few things to note:
Reader is Mick’s twin sister, and Gina’s younger sister.
Reader is a Michelin star chef (one star)
Reader is famous (obviously)
This follows the 2022 season
Reader and Charles have been dating since the beginning of the 2021 season (1 year)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Fem!Chef!Reader
Warnings: Some cursing, gut wrenching fluff
Here's the playlist recommendations
y/nschumacher
Liked by charles_leclerc, mickschumacher, gina_schumacher and 836,236 others
y/nschumacher Movie date and a home-cooked meal for him❤️
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mickschumacher You should invite us over for dinner soon… miss your cooking🙏
gina_schumacher Yes pleaseee!!
francisca.cgomes AHHH it looks SO GOOD😩 Where’s my share?🤨
user1 great dinner but WHO IS THAT🫣🫣🫣
user2 She’s allowed to date yk
user1 no need to be rude. I was just wondering who it was…
user3 It’s clearly a boyfriend that she doesn’t wanna reveal or something
user4 A SOFT LAUNCH???😭
user5 MOTHER NOOO😭😭😭😭
user6 Byebye… to my parasocial relationship…
user7 I haven’t seen her like this before and idk if I like it😭
user8 He never has to pay for dinner again💀💀💀
charles_leclerc
Liked by pierregasly, y/nschumacher and 1,184,339 others
charles_leclerc Tough weekend so far but we’ll improve for the next weekend.
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y/nschumacher Good luck next week!
user1 Somebody save him😭❤️
user2 y/n in the comments?
user3 She switched from Haas to Ferrari💀 Wonder what Mick has to say about that
user2 omg💀💀💀
user4 Seems suspicious…
user3 I mean, I don’t think so? She’s great friends with everyone on the track.
user5 Not Ferrari again😭😭😭 WHYYY
user6 Atp I don’t even wanna watch the races anymore😭 It’s just depression on a screen😭😭😭
user7 Ferrari is making him delusional💀 No way they’re ever gonna improve…
user8 I’m still hopeful😞🫶
user9 Tbh I’ve given up
y/nschumacher
Liked by mickschumacher, charles_leclerc and 735,229 others
y/nschumacher November dump🌅🍂 He tried to challenge my cooking. Bold move, sir… bold move.
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mickschumacher I doubt it tasted good😒
y/nschumacher It was actually really good
mickschumacher Biased.
y/nschumacher 🙄
carlossainz55 It was nice having you in the Ferrari garage for a change
Liked by y/nschumacher
gina_schumacher I miss you :/
y/nschumacher I’m coming to visit soon🫶
gina_schumacher You better
maxverstappen1 Red Bull > Ferrari
y/nschumacher No.
user1 since when did she become a Ferrari girl—
user2 wtaf is going on😭
user3 why are there so many drivers in her comments all of a sudden💀
user4 she’s soft launching. Mother is soft launching.
user5 Please leave him for me❤️
user6 No she’s leaving him for me😒
user7 Um no. She’s obviously leaving him for me🙄
user8 You’re all wrong. It’s always been me.
user9 Okay but whoever she’s dating is so lucky. Home-cooked Michelin meals? That’s literally living my dream.
user10 Ugh it’s so unfair. This guy should be ashamed he stole a national treasure
user11 I second that statement
user12 What’s with the new insta era😭 Pls post more food pics😔
wagsoff1
56,297 likes
wagsoff1 You heard it here first…
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user1 EXCUSE ME???? THIS WAS A YEAR AGO???
user2 wtaf this came out of nowhere…
user3 but where’s the proof😭
user4 It’s probably fake since there’s no proof
user5 I bet all the 13 yr olds and their parasocial relationships are disintegrating rn
user6 yeah um I won’t believe it until I see it💀
charles_leclerc
Liked by y/nschumacher and 855,970 others
charles_leclerc Drank some wine and went out for dinner for the first time in a long time😘
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maxverstappen1 Wine and oysters, but you didn’t invite me…
charles_leclerc Sorry mate. Next time!
pierregasly Thanks for the date idea mate
Liked by charles_leclerc
user1 ig @ wagsoff1 was right
user2 Why am I crying
user3 This is genuinely so cute🤍
user4 His gf is so lucky
user5 WHO IS ITTTT
user6 Honestly, we should just look out for her at the paddock.
user7 We gotta wait for the next season for that…
user6 I forgot😭 I don’t want to wait so long ughhh
user8 Well, there goes my husband.
user9 Does anyone know who it is?
user10 I have an idea it’s someone we all know…
user9 Who?
user10 Dms
francisca.cgomes
Liked by y/nschumacher and 84,293 others
Tagged: y/nschumacher
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francisca.cgomes Girls night🥂🪩
y/nschumacher Same time next week?
francisca.cgomes Obviously🤍
pierregasly You cancelled date night for this?
francisca.cgomes It’s. Girls. Night.
pierregasly Understandable, have a nice day.
user1 IN LOVE WITH THIS FRIENDSHIP
user2 Me and my bestie when exam season is over:
user3 Literally
user4 Since when did they start hanging out🫣
user5 They’ve been friends for a long time, actually💀
user4 Oh okay I didn’t know😭
user5 Two pretty best friends🫶
y/nschumacher
Liked by charles_leclerc, gina_schumacher, mickschumacher and 763,298 others
Tagged: gina_schumacher
y/nschumacher I should stick to cooking… fell off so many times. How do you do it???
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gina_schumacher You’ll get there with practice!
y/nschumacher If I mount another horse, I will die.
charles_leclerc I’m sure you did great❤️
y/nschumacher I didn’t, but thank you❤️
mickschumacher Watching you fall was great entertainment
y/nschumacher At least I didn’t refuse to get on the horse😒
user1 WHAT WHAT WHATTTTT CHARLES??? THE HEARTS????
user2 wtaf this is insane😭
user3 is this their idea of a soft launch wtf😭
user4 they really just act as if it’s known💀💀
user 3 Literally💀
user5 so basically, Charles and Y/n?
user6 That explains why Charles wrote that one caption
user5 what caption?
user6 The one where he said he hadn’t been out for dinner in a long time
user5 whaaaat you’re right
user7 How did we not see this coming…
user8 I mean, they might not be dating? They could just be close friends…
user9 Nah, there’s no way
user8 You don’t know that
charles_leclerc
Liked by y/nschumacher, pierregasly, maxverstappen1 and 1,173,994 others
charles_leclerc She took me wine shopping…
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y/nschumacher She looks like she knows what she’s doing
charles_leclerc I hope she knows..?
maxverstappen1 Mate, she’s a keeper.
charles_leclerc I know
user1 Charles pls😭 We all know that’s Y/n
user2 I’ve been living under a rock. What’s going on???
user3 Y/n Schumacher is a Michelin chef (and also Mick’s sister). Basically there are rumours that Charles is dating her. They haven’t confirmed it, but it’s pretty obvious by their soft launch…
user2 I was gone for a few months from social media and this is what I come back to?😭
user4 Charles has taste
user5 She’s literally a goddess
user6 Ugh he’s so lucky but she’s also lucky… idk who I want to be. Both???
user7 relatable.
charles_leclerc and y/nschumacher
Liked by mickschumacher, y/nschumacher, maxverstappen1 and 1,482,663 others
charles_leclerc I don’t even know where to begin. I’ve had so much fun with you this past year. Happy 2 years anniversary❤️ Tu es créme de la créme, ma chérie❤️
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y/nschumacher Mein Süßer❤️
Liked by charles_leclerc
mickschumacher Congrats guys!
francisca.cgomes This is so cute😭❤️
gina_schumacher So happy for you guys🤍
maxverstappen1 Congrats!
pierregasly When’s the wedding?
francisca.cgomes Don’t push them like that
pierregasly Sorry.
francisca.cgomes No, I actually also want to know @ y/nschumacher🤨
y/nschumacher Wedding??! Too early… but maybe we’ll start talking over a steak dinner…
𝗥𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗻...
𝘾𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙜𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙗𝙚𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚!
𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙚’𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩
©vettelsdarling
𝗣𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗱𝗮𝗽𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸 𝗶𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘆, 𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗽𝗲, 𝗼𝗿 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺— 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗺𝘆 𝗽𝗲𝗿𝗺𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗼𝗻.
#fanfiction#fanfic#f1#formula 1#formula one#x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#reader insert#fluff#charles leclerc#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc ferrari#charles leclerc x female reader#charles leclerc x you#f1 instagram au#instagram fanfic#insta au#formula racing#formula one fanfiction#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 fanfiction#scuderia ferrari#ferrari#charles leclerc f1#charles leclerc fluff#mick schumacher#f1 x reader#charles leclerc imagine
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WIPs of some of my drawings where i made a full little painting for the sketch to nail colours or values first. i thought it would be fun to do a Behind The Scenes and also show u how some drawings changed, what i kept and what i discarded and at what point i just started adding unplanned details
all these were done using a mixture of sai and procreate
more comments on The Process under the cut
eye of the otherworld is inspired by a real photo i took two weeks ago!
i soooo wanted to draw water that looked like this, weeds and all, so the original colours of that sketch were picked direct from the photo. but i wasn’t satisfied with it so i changed it using a gradient map (you can see it’s crunchy on the borders between colours). for the final, i re-painted everything again using the sketch colours as a guide so that i would not end up with the crunchy edges a gradient map will give u, and so that i could add in extra contrast over the top. the black swirl pattern in the final was an ad lib lol but i’m really happy with how it gives the impression of water or liquid even if it’s not realistic... i will try again to recreate something like this photo tho because i am obsessed. the birds were originally swans but the necks were driving me crazy i needed a bird with a shorter neck and grebes are associated with this location in canon so it was perfect. they have very funny feet. the last detail i added to this was the white flashes in their primary flight feathers (which do not occur in nature btw)
hanged man was an interesting one because it’s based on a sketch i made in 2020 when i first wrote this fun impalement scene
here is félix being impaled for the first time in 2020 by a rusted harpoon that essentially rips his human disguise off to reveal the black carapace underneath
for the coloured sketch in the photoset i re-lined this exact sketch in sai to update it to match my current lineart style, but as you can see i realised the pose itself needed work and not just a re-line so i completely redid it in procreate to exaggerate the pose and gestures. i went into this one already knowing exactly what bg colours i wanted so that was no issue but the hardest part was weirdly figuring out what he was going to be standing on. in canon he is standing on top of a very high wall and leaning back over a fatal drop. the black pencil lines in the clouds and the bird were ad libbed but i liked the idea of throwing the bird in as some extra symbol of freedom the likes of which you will not experience if you have been shot with a harpoon. the green was not working at all so the swap out to more purpley pink tones was last minute. i unified the different colours by using a colour-shifting brush (you’ll see that his gaiters are different colours - i didn’t hand pick those, the colour jitter did)
for Big Pascal... originally it was going to be a confrontation between the guy on the ground and pascal but i wasn’t feeling the standing pose and it ended up being... if not restful then at least maybe a little more benevolent than the shadow of colossus shit it was before. the white cracks in the sky were originally going to be black but it just didn’t work. a lot of people tag this one as some form of cowboy aesthetic which is funny to me. there’s no cowboys here
i do like the lens flare effect in the b&w thumbnail tbh and i think i kind of lost the low camera angle effect in the final
i drew a bonus comic of the two characters interacting during this scene (mostly the lil guy just trying to ignore what’s happening in the sky)
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Lore Ask Compilation:
"Every Other Question Is About The Drow's Dick" edition
Oh I LOVE Minthara, her dialogue is absolutely fascinating and in my opinion some of the best written In the game. Experiencing her in my Evil Durge playthrough without having been spoiled to her companion scenes prior was great - the amount of depth they managed to add to her, without it at all feeling forced or rushed, and considering how much less time she gets to develop at our side is really well done. While nearly everyone's quests had me immersed, she was one of the few characters who really made me pause and think about the things she had to say to me, what she truly meant by them, and what they meant for me as an avatar doing an evil run.
We have a lot of characters in this game that are meant to be full of wisdom and experience, who are meant to be the ones who say the right thing at the right time that inspires us to make the correct choices, but I don't think either Halsin or Jaheira (and I love Jaheira) made me feel like I knew so little about life quite as Minthara did.
And, of course, she's absolutely hysterical. 10/10 I wish she had a proper companion quest past being rescued but I understand why she doesn't.
[MORE ASKS UNDER THE CUT]
It doesn't connect to the urethra since the slit in on top, so he nuts and pisses normal.
Also you 100% are not sorry, stop lying to me.
Man, I thought a lot about this one because I play so fast and loose with the content the game gives us that I'm positive there must be SOMETHING I'm completely disregarding, but I couldn't think of anything! I've chosen to pick slightly less obvious interpretations to some lines and text but nothing that completely deviates from canon, I don't think. If anyone has noticed something I neglected to mention, feel free to let me know - not because I want to revise it, but just because I'm curious!
For the second part of the question, not really. Larian did a great job of giving us plenty of room to play around in the dark urge's background, I think I'm yet to see something that I find to truly "not fit" in the ample freedom they've given us. I have my preferences, of course - I'm shocked to find that most dark urge's are NOT big hulking beasts, for example - in fact that seems to be the minority by far, but I realize that I have my... Uh... Biases.
You can see a cute little divot through the fabric if you look closely LOL
And nah, I think his penis has seen enough sharp points for a lifetime.
Well.
Unless someone decided to add some bite-marks to it.
HMMM, I... Don't think so.
He didn't cry as a baby, he didn't cry as a child (and this isn't something I just decided on now - this is a major reason why his foster drow mother even kept him around) he didn't really cry growing up or at any point during the campaign. I think he is capable of it - sadness in him just tends to be far more confusing a feeling than anything else.
He will have emotional moments in ANE, whether or not that will culminate in crying is something you will have to wait to find out LOL
Astarion has noticed this and just took it as a character trait - the drow doesn't cry, he just gets confused, angry, frustrated or simply bottles it up. While he can be demanding of his emotional maturity, he isn't going to try and dictate how he should experience his own feelings. If it did happen it would definitely catch him majorly off-guard, perhaps even shift the perception he has of him to a certain extent.
Oh my god you just know they All managed to be utterly quiet about it for as long as humanly (and unhumanly) possible until like, I don't even know, halfway through the Shadow-cursed lands where one day Karlach finally turns back to the group around the campfire after a half-nude drow has strut past and she's like "SO
"DOES ANYONE KNOWS WHY HIS DICK HAS A SNATCH"
And Wyll is like :0... Karlach you can't just ask people that.
And then she pointedly turns to Astarion and starts trying to interrogate him on how it works while Gale covers his ears and Shadowheart is like:
This is gonna blow you guys backwards but he does not do those things in front of people and thinks its rude if you do.
HMMM Mostly physically but it's a little subtle. He really enjoys interacting with Astarion's (and previously Orin's) hands - kissing, holding, caressing. Touching hair and faces as well. He can engage in more overt physical affection but usually Astarion has to be the one to initiate.
A disarmingly earnest proclamation of love and adoration here and there as well - he isn't shy in the slightest to tell people how he feels about them, he just isn't constantly reminding them of it unless inspiration strikes.
Most of all I think he expects his loved-ones to see his care for them in his tendency to go out of his way to help them achieve their goals.
He went with them to the Shadow-cursed lands but I never helped him fix the curse, so he stayed behind when the gang went onwards to the city. DU Drow didn't really like him so it was good-riddance as far as he was concerned.
If he had come along and propositioned him during act 3 - uh, you know the really mean rejection line you have as a choice during that dialogue? Yeah, that one lmao.
Alas, DU drow is just monogamous. He could entertain group-sex with a partner for fun at the most, but not ever a third person in the relationship. And In my personal interpretation (but by all means - everyone else have fun with their poly arrangements!) of Astarion and his delivery of the "this is about Halsin" line, I also thought he was lying about being comfortable with it, so I write him as monogamous as well.
Nothing. Nada. Not a thing. Say what you'd like about Bhaal but he sure knows how sculpt them out of his murder-meat.
(Thank you!!!)
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astro observations 2
more observations today for ya? this time both signs and aspects. 🦊
Should I call it the Aquarius post? 🤔 I mentioned Aquarius too many times, sorry I relate too hard, bear with me.
Highlights: aquarius, MC, IC, sun, virgo, capricorn, gemini, sagittarius, jupiter, mercury, moon, scorpio, aries, uranus
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🦋 Aquarius placements especially sun, moon, mercury, mars, MC and ascendant are PROS at ignoring your texts until they want to answer. It's like they either consciously ignore your text to rebel against what others expect them to do and do exactly what they want at that time, or unconsciously rebel in the same way desiring complete "freedom". My bestie is aquarius sun and I'm aquarius MC, we answer each other's texts days or weeks later and are okay with it 💀 oh, the answer is also too irrelevant it makes you want to throw your phone at a wall yay 😻
🦋 Fire moon + fire/air mars and anger issues 🤝
🦋 Virgo moons, you had a critical mom or parental figure, you internalized her voice, you criticize without knowing. Your words can make someone self conscious even if you think it's innocent judgment 🥺 Your words can also make some's day because you are trusted! (applies to gemini moons and mercury too). Don’t take it for granted. Until you know how to use your judgment for good, with balance and kindness you become the warmest most looked up to friend.
🦋 Capricorn moons are such complex individuals, their trauma is unique to them, they can endure and have endured a LOT. They are extremely caring or deadly careless no in between. Keeping it professional is what they're good at. Each one I met is so much different than the other, they have similar but different stories, but they all have this grounded energy that can make them even seem heavy energetically. Once evolved, they can be the wisest people to talk to.
🦋 Aquarius MC individuals might have been too emotionally attached to their family at a young age, especially their mom (with leo 4th). They had so much passion and love for their mom and realized it wasn't equally reciprocated, they were manipulated (hits home). They also might have been jealous and needed the love and attention all on them, but they dgaf anymore. 😎 At a certain age, their family broke their trust and they became completely detached. They learned to be emotionally secure and set strong boundaries with people which shocked everyone. They stopped giving energy to their family or anyone else. They ran out of f*cks to give so soon.
🦋 Aquarius MC/IC they were and always will be seen as weird and different from their family and everyone else (hell I'm seen as controversial and questionable even when I sit still and do nothing). love that.
🦋 Also if you have Aquarius MC, IC or Ascendant check when saturn transits 4th or 10th or aspects the nodes/mc. This indicates the end of karmic cycles with your family related to your self concept and self expression. You will have a chance to break cycles and be more individualistic. It may be painful but hold on. 🥺
🦋 Gemini and Virgo ascendants can be introverted or extroverted, mostly introverted, unless they have planets in the 1st, much air or fire energy. They always have a way with words tho no matter what, and they always are nervous, their minds never shut down, they keep thinking and rethinking lol. These individuals break social norms, research and discuss topics much more profoundly than what has been done before. They have topics to talk about that were forgotten or not discussed enough.
🦋 Sagittarius moons and placements, feeling the need to laugh at the wrong, very wrong time. LOUD laughs . Laughs that make others stare with a look of concern. Making jokes when it's time to get serious. Repeating jokes as it gets more serious. Making more jokes when someone tells them to stop. Laughs at people not laughing at their jokes. Laughs at their own joke before they say it. plz I admire.
🦋 Gemini, Virgo, Aquarius, Capricorn, Aries, Leo, Scorpio mercuries intrigue me the most, they got something impressive about them, the way they talk and their words are powerful, can equally be destructive and toxic. People can take them the wrong way. What they have to say should be heard period. Watch your speech if you have these signs, you don’t want to hurt people or yourself.
🦋 Now I don’t like to talk about how Scorpio and Aries mars are seen as "sexy" because it's been said trillions of times (even tho I like to read them because I'm a scorpio mars 💀). But hear me out, the most prominent thing about all scorpio mars individuals is that they like to move in complete silence, like they don't exist, like you will never catch them. Every decision they take in life is private, because that's the only way they can shock you with their big success and revenge on all people that didn't believe in them. They want to keep you guessing and never give you answers but will show actions and accomplishments only. Their biggest dream is to come out on top once everyone has forgotten about them (or not), but to see your jaw droppin is their wet dream loool.
🦋 Mercury conjunct Uranus? and all aspects for that matter, but especially the conjunction. You cannot convince me that these individuals are not geniuses, no matter how dumb they act. Take care of your mind, it's something special gorg. Also your voice must be so unique, it stays on someone's mind and is so vivid when they think of you.
🦋 Mercury conjunct Jupiter, the philosopher. You just like to talk about abstract and broad topics. Spiritualist at heart, rational to deny it often tho. You have sooo many interests it's insane. You are the jack of all trades. People expect you to know things? You come off as a know it all, even if you don't mean it (yea I have it I relate). You have lessons to learn and teach those around you especially about their concept of life and beliefs. Any compliment you give can mean a lot to people. Your positivity is infectious.
🦋 Mercury aspecting Jupiter, especially conjunctions can give a lot of optimism, this applies to neptune positively aspecting chiron as well. I see it in charts of people that have heavy saturn, pluto or chiron energy, to balance the darkness, their ability to think positively is healing to them and others because likely other things are destroying them in life and they already have many wounds. Your optimism is not an illusion, it's a gift from the universe. Life gets better as you spiritually evolve.
🦋 Moon opposite/square mercury, such a hard aspect. A constant mental and emotional conflict. You don't know whether to trust your thoughts or emotions. You don't know when you're trusting either. There is a direct and strong influence of thoughts on emotions. Now that means your thought can hurt you or elevate you so be careful. Especially at a young age your thoughts and others' thoughts have hurt you deeply, as you grow you learn how to balance it out, to not give a f*ck. The good thing about this aspect is that these people pick up on their thought patterns easily and have potential to manipulate their minds to their benefit. Mental health is important to these individuals. Don't let your mind run wild especially in a negative direction. It's also important to surround yourselves with positive people. Music might be important for you to process emotions.
🦋 Conjunctions are far from being "neutral" aspects imo. They are powerful natural talents and gifts in perspective, confidence, expression and skills. These aspects are always positive, even to challenging planets, if they act negatively then there are likely other challenging aspects to the same planets, the native might have not learned yet how to work with this energy or hasn’t realized their potential. Conjunctions are the highest and strongest potential any two planets can reach. The planets don't become "one", they rather meet eye to eye, acknowledge their qualities fully and work out their differences beautifully which manifests in the form of talents and potential. Yes like all aspects they got their negatives too but their positives enormously surpass the negatives. Conjunctions are highly positive aspects, it's unfair to call them neutral.
#moon aspects#jupiter aspects#scorpio#capricorn#sagittarius#gemini#virgo moon#astrology signs#aquarius mercury#aspects#mercury conjunct jupiter#mercury conjunct uranus#aquarius mc#moon opposite mercury#mars scorpio#gemini ascendant#virgo ascendant#capricorn mercury#conjunctions#astro observations#astrology#astrology aspects
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reflection - jj maybank
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
warning: +18. NSFW CONTENT. MINORS DNI. exhibitionist (ish). vaginal sex. masturbation. language. dirty talking. oral sex.
word count: 1.2k
author’s notes: this one took me soooo days to finish. i rewrote this a thousand times lol
masterlist | join the taglist | kinktober masterlist!!!!
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
“Done y/n, the bed frame is installed, the shelves are in the right place, your mirror is set and we’re… dead.” John B says as he throws the last box on the floor.
Finally, I’m all settled in - my place in Outer Banks, which means freedom and no more late-night walks back from the Chateau. Not that crashing at John B’s wasn’t fun, but now everything here is mine, and it’s cozy and perfect.
The guys decided to chill downstairs, drinking off the rest of the earlier beer. I stayed there cleaning the rest of the mess. I grabbed a little towel to clean the window glass and mirror. From the mirror's reflection, I spotted JJ, leaning in the doorframe. I couldn’t help but flash him a big smile.
“You know, I’m pretty darn proud of you,” JJ said, moving closer and giving me a tight hug from behind. “What’s on your mind, milady?” he asked, planting a kiss on my shoulder.
“I think I’m just tired and over the moon. Everything came together just as I imagined it. Now, I’ve got this whole place and it’s perfect, I almost feel like I’m no longer a pogue,”
JJ chuckled. “Nah, once a pogue, always a pogue,” He says brushing his lips to my neck. “ I really dig this mirror, by the way.”
“It’s so pretty and massive, I know it’s kinda silly, but I fucking love this,”
“It’s not silly, I’m dead serious, I like it, you know why?” JJ asked getting closer to my ears “It's kinda in a perfect angle, I can fuck you in the bed or in on the desk, would be a fuckin view no matter where.” He smirked as I stared at him, with a grin on his face, he released me from his arms smacking my ass before leaving the room.
Later that night, after everyone had left, both of us came upstairs, JJ took a shower first and I made sure to be the last one. His little comment made my mind send some familiar signals to my body. So I searched through some boxes for some lingerie and stayed in the bathroom. With a robe on top, I finally stepped out of the room, and there was JJ, stretched out on the bed, watching something on his phone.
"So, I've been thinking about what you said earlier," I mumbled, standing in front of my mirror, playfully messing with my hair. "You know, about the mirror..."
JJ's eyes flicked up from the screen, a sly grin already on his face. When our eyes finally met in the mirror's reflection, I slowly slipped out of my robe. JJ sat up in the bed analyzing every inch of my body.
“Can I help you out of that?
I turn my body to him as I slowly unhook my bra. "I mean, you've already helped me a lot today," I told him. JJ nods, his eyes locked on mine.
"One more thing, wouldn’t be a problem," a mischievous glint fills his eyes as he stands up and gets closer to me. His hands land and my hips and twist them, "God, I'm crazy for you," His breath on the back of my neck instantly makes my body tingle.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says, pressing his lower body onto mine.
Just as we were earlier, JJ hugs me from behind, but this time, his hand caresses my tits as the other one is sliding inside my panties. His lips leave a trail of wet kisses on the side of my neck.
He massages my wetness with his fingers and pushes them in slowly, curling them until he presses down against my sweet spot. Some breathy moans escape my lips.
“I love the face you make when you moan for me,” JJ murmurs, his comment almost makes me feel embarrassed, but fuck, his lips against my neck, the way he’s pleasuring me with those skillful fingers of his, it’s too good to feel awkward about.
“Always so wet for me, I need to taste you,” JJ whispers in my ears “You want my mouth on you?”
I lazily nod.
He sinks to his knees and wrenches my legs apart, I lean on the corner of the table as JJ grabs my leg and holds it on top of his shoulders. I see him peering up at me as I tangle my hands over his hair.
I let out a hoarse "Yes." as JJ wraps his mouth on my pussy. He licks my clit with soft, teasing strokes, driving me wild with desire. He takes his time, building up my pleasure and making me beg for more. "JJ, please don't stop," I whimper. As if it was an order, JJ fastens the tempo, the more noise and movement I make, the more eager JJ gets with his mouth.
His groans against my skin makes me squirm, my vision was blurry til he withdrew his fingers out of me.
“I’m sorry, but you will finish with me inside of you princess,” He asks as he pushes me in front of the mirror. “I want to look at your face when I slam deep inside you.”
I nod. At this point, I just need to feel him.
“I’ll let you do anything if you just fuck me JJ.”
JJ chuckles, his underwear falls to the floor, his thick cock points up as he gives it a few pumps. The sight of his cock running through his palms makes me crazy. I hunch over, my body leans against the mirror, both of my palms pressed firmly against the glass.
JJ gives my ass a slap before rubbing his length in between my legs.
“Look at us,” He commands huskily
My eyes land on myself, bent over with my legs spread open, my mouth hangs open feeling JJ slowly push against my hole. Looking at JJ, he has his lower lip caught between his teeth, and his eyes are devouring my reflection through his lashes.
“Watch me fuck you from behind,”
My moan is instant as JJ buries himself deeper inside me, his hands gripping tightly around my waist. His thrust gets progressively faster. My sex clutches around him every time he fills me up. There’s no more “teasing” and also there’s nothing graceful about the pounds he gave me.
“Fuck yes,” JJ grunts against my neck.
It’s all moaning, slapping, and slurping sounds filling the bedroom right now, our sweaty bodies slamming each other without a pause.
I feel getting close to reaching that blissful feeling, I take JJ’s hand and place it between my legs. He knows exactly the amount of pressure to put it in because when he strokes it frantically, I'm closer than ever.
“yes, yes, yes”
"Come for me, look how good you take me." JJ stares deeply at me
I almost can’t support my body, every muscle inside me tenses up as I feel his cock pulse, the pleasure builds inside me until finally, it explodes, melting my body.
JJ buries his face in the crook of my neck, trembling against my body as he climaxes as well.
He keeps pumping inside of me, my pussy contracting milking his shaft as he pulls out.
"I've been looking forward to this all day, you have no right being this hot princess," JJ holds me giving me a kiss.
“Gosh, we are so doing that again,”
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
✧˚ . taglist ˚✧ (join here): @loverofmarsss
⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯
© maybank-archives 2023 — no one has permission to copy or translate any of my works, if you see any of my work being reproduced in another platform please contact me! :)
#jj maybank#rudy pankow#jj mayback imagine#outerbanks#obx#obximagines#obx headcanon#outer banks#outerbanks headcanon#jj maybank headcanon#jj obx#jj outerbanks#maybank#jj maybank smut#headcanon#fanfic#jj maybank x you#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank x y/n#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank blurb#jj outer banks#obx x reader#obx x you#obx x y/n#obx smut#obx imagine#obx blurb#outer banks x reader#outer banks smut
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Want some holydust friendship angst?
So one day Angel is at work and Val gives him an option.
Val: If you record that fallen angel Adam and Lucifer going at it, and for a decent amount of time, give it to me to publish, I'll loosen the strings on our deal. You can have more freedom, say enough to go to heaven?
At first Angel flat out refuses. But he also misses his sister.... And even if he didn't make it to heaven, more freedom would be fucking nice.
So he recorded them. It's burnt on a DVD now. But he can't bring himself to hand it over to Val.
Adam is his best friend and Lucifer is, well, the fucking king. Literally.
Of course, Adam finds it and watches it with Lucifer thinking it's one of Angels different movies (not a porno) and they are shocked to see themselves on the screen.
Adam: What the fuck is wrong with you?!
Lucifer: Honestly, I expected better from you.
Angel: I'm sorry! Val just-
Adam/Lucifer: VALENTINO?!??!!
Adam: You were going to give him a video of us fucking for everyone to watch!!?
Angel: Adam I-
Adam: Some fucking friend you are! Don't fucking talk to me ever again. *Storms off with the DVD*
Lucifer: I'm disappointed in you Angel. *Leaves to calm Adam down before he breaks something*
Angel, teary eyed: Fuck!
Okay anon, this is honestly a lot of unbelievable hoops for me to see this scenario LOL hmmm
I really don't think Angel would do it, from the get go, Valentino can fucking kiss his ass. If we've seen something from Angel is that he's willing to put himself in even more danger for his friends and for the people he wants to protect.
If he somehow did this and hid the evidence, and then Adam and Lucifer found it, I actually doubt they'd be so hung up over it, maybe a little disappointed that he hid it from them, but more so they'd go "really dude? You could've just asked you know, neither of us particularly cares that much." I don't think Lucifer would care even for himself, and even if he did, he could just be like "well you don't have to show my whole body, do you? Don't porn people hide their faces and most of their bodies all the time?" And that would be the end of it LOL.
Even if they didn't offer to do it, they'd understand what Angel is going through, and would cut him some slack, at least they'd give him a chance to explain himself and all that.
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I think I also saw a post explaining that if a ship in the fandom got too popular, the network producers would try and force that ship to become canon.
It's like, I love Charlastor, but I really don't want it to be canon. I feel like non canon ships are more fun!
yeah!!! 100% agreed, and I despise it when producers actually let that happen too :/ Glaring very hard at the grossly entitled people a good while back to tried to sway their preferred ship into canonicity by doing petitions....
I wouldn't want charlastor to be canon tbh.
It's, frankly, wild to me that so many people even equate shipping to exclusively mean "to root for two or more characters to get romantically involved in the source material", and any exploration of dynamics beyond that is then frowned upon, shamed or invalidated.
To an unfortunately large amount of people, shipping is little more than a popularity contest :')
To me, a huge part of the appeal in shipping is that it's a means to explore interpersonal character dynamics from a piece of media in ways we don't necessarily see happen in canon.
I LOVE non-canon ships for the fact that they leave us with SO much creative freedom! [more in-depth thoughts + what appeals to me about charlastor under the cut]
It allows us to hypothesize and experiment in-depth with how these characters would find their way from one type of dynamic into a different direction in so many different ways, without canon to give us one solid path to stick to.
One trope I'm very fond of in fanfiction in particular has always been slowburn with a touch of mutual pining - when a dynamic is truly given room to breathe and naturally grow into different directions and REALLY digs into the involved characters, it enables the authors to thoroughly lay out why and how their feelings change, what affected them in the process and how/when they eventually choose to act on them!
Character analysis is my bread and butter, so if a dynamic strikes my interest it's almost always because it has something unique about it far beyond just wanting to see them all lovey-dovey bc it's cute (though that can be part of it lol).
Charlie and Alastor as a combination are so intriguing to me because they're in many ways polar opposites, but simultaneously also have just enough similarities to leave a lot of potential for a genuine bond.
They combine the most conniving, manipulative, steadfastly and proudly immoral person with someone whose good intentions color absolutely everything she does, who also has the willpower and moral code to see it through.
They're like a forbidden, alluring dance, endlessly circling in each other's gravitational pull - which parts of them will prevail? Who will inevitably buckle to the other's influence first? What draws them in? What drives them apart?
I love watching Alastor's masterfully crafted plans get absolutely thwarted because he can't get a consistent read on her - a being who's - by her very nature of being part demon and part angel - a bundle of contradictions.
I'm also extremely fond of Charlie 100% seeing through him every step of the way and still keeping him around - regardless of his motivations, he is a vital, helpful part of the hotel, and she won't give up on trying to win him over for her cause in earnest.
There are very few things as funny to me as the idea of Alastor -master manipulator - being so far up his own ego, obsessing over getting a figurative hold over this fascinating and yet frustrating princess, that it takes forever for him to realize he's the one being used all along, expertly playing right into her cards.
Simultaneously, there's so many other ways to write them!!! It's just so damn fun to explore all of the what-ifs.
#there's more I could say abt all this but the post is long enough lmfaoo#charlastor#radiobelle#shipping#chubs answers#long post
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banner by @/itaeewon
The Price {coming soon!}
Rating: NSWF - minors do not have my consent to interact
Genre: Snow White and the Huntsman!au, angst, smut, unhappy ending
WC: 8k
Summary: The Queen is responsible for everything you call yours: your home, your job, your freedom. You live without laying claim to anything else, lest the Queen leverage more in exchange for her grace. But the Queen has just named her latest price: the life of the young blacksmith, Min Yoongi.
Warnings: language, drinking, there’s a plague and it’s a problem, reader’s parents died (see the previous warning lol) and there are scenes of her grieving process, reader is a hunter so there’s mentions of animal carcasses and hides, lots of mentions of reader’s big fancy knife, a murder attempt, kissing, nip stim, groping, fingering, clit stim, penetrative sex (protection not mentioned either way), reader on top, angst, unhappy/ambiguous ending
A/N: Part of the Make Me Your Villain collab! Please give the other authors a lot of love!!! Huge huge huge thank you to @/here2bbtstrash for beta-ing!
//
Mirror, mirror - look and see.
Who might take this throne from me?
Mirror, mirror - who's the threat?
Show me which boy's blood to let.
Teaser:
The Queen is seated, and it’s so cramped in the room that it’s hard to properly bow, but you do your best.
“I asked you here because I need something done. You seem, somehow, to be my best option.”
You duck your head. “I’m at your service, as always.”
And you are. You owe the crown everything - the home you were allowed to keep, your brother’s education, your income. Your freedom, as conditional as it is.
The Queen seems to think before she speaks, and when she does each word is short and deliberate.
“There’s someone I need gone,” she says, her voice giving away no emotion. “A threat to my throne. I’ll pay five times our normal scale. I’ll pay you for your discretion, as well, on an ongoing basis.”
You respond with silence. You can’t process quickly enough - you don’t know what to tell her.
The only thing you can tell her is yes. She holds your whole world in her hands.
But if you tell her yes, then you have to do it. Can you kill a person, can you pretend it’s no different from cutting a rabbit’s throat?
Five times your normal price could do a lot for you. You could fix up the cabin - patch the roof where it leaks, reinforce the cellar the way you’ve thought about for years.
None of it matters. You can’t say no to the Queen.
“Yes, your Majesty,” you hear yourself say. Your stomach is a block of ice, turning over and over with the tide. “I am yours to command.”
You know it. She knows it.
“Min Yoongi. The blacksmith’s boy,” she says coolly, and you aren’t even surprised. It’s like part of you knew, somehow. Part of you has been waiting for this ending all along. Isn’t this exactly why you’d never let him get too close? There was never a happy ending in the stars - not for you.
Posting this Friday, January 12th - please look forward to it and the rest of the collab pieces!!
#bts x reader#bts fanfic#bts fic#yoongi fanfic#yoongi fic#yoongi x reader#yoongi smut#yoongi angst#yoongi x you#yoongi x y/n#min yoongi fic#min yoongi fanfic#min yoongi smut#min yoongi angst#fairy tale au#fic: the price
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My Boujee wealthy dark academia shifting story
Before I started manifesting money in this reality, I was super obsessed with the old money aesthetic, gossip girl, nepotism babies, and just anything money tbh, because obscene wealth has always been fascinating to me. I was honestly bored and feeling materistlic when I intended to go here solely for the purpose of ending this exploration crave lol. I’ll just list some of the thing I had fun doing and my experiences. I won’t get into specific stories because they’re probably just as you presume.
I’m going to first run through some of the most fascinating things I experienced and before I tell personal stories.
-Going to luxury rooftop bars and having drinks with my friends! This is one of my first realities where I was of age and had an extroverted personality so that was fun
-I Joined a super cool and high class sorority at my college. I always thought the concept of a sorority was cringe but we did a lot of volunteer work, and the communal family you have access to is beyond what I expected.
-Going on fancy night outs and renting the most expensive hotel room to have a relaxing night with friends and/ or throwing a giant high class party was the weekend norm. My ambivert self here is shocked that this is how some people live everyday haha.
- getting to be be a mysterious rich person, and legacy student at my university had its perk.
-my parents owned vacation homes in the aesthetic countrysides of Switzerland and France. Here I didn’t get the reasoning of having multiple homes,but when you travel often, it’s not as impractical as it seems.
-getting used to flying private. Not having to go through tsa and having a corsage of people to have travel be as easy as possible was so fun. I don’t travel often here and when I do it spikes my anxiety. Being surrounded by people and having to do all those checks stresses me out, and not dealing with that made traveling so much more fun.
-my parents created a huge scholarship fund to help low-income families. With a certain amounts of students winning every month. This scholarship covers all fees for college from boarding to school supplies to tuition costs to meal plans. I got to also sponsor an endangered animals. My choice was pandas :)
-getting to go to go to the met gala!
-Buying expensive rare and ancient plants! My dad bought a $20,000 olive tree for my mom to plant on our property, and it’s worth the price. Nature to me will always be priceless
The first thing that I think of when I reflect on what it is like being in the top .01% is the access to resources. Having access to a sizable personal fortune gives me the freedom to purchase anything I want and to travel anywhere in the world. I can indulge in luxuries that some people can only dream about.
It also brings with it a considerable amount of responsibility. As part of this elite group I have an obligation to use my resources to better the lives of those around me. For example, I have been able to make donations to charities and invest in causes that are important to me. I believe this is a great way to use my wealth to make a difference in the world.At times being in the top .01% was overwhelming. There is a certain level of pressure to make sure that my money is invested in responsible and rewarding ways. As well, many people view the wealthy with suspicion and resentment, which can be intimidating at times.
Anyways I want to expand on my experience attending the mega gala, bc that was easily my favorite night.My experience attending the Met gala was super cool, and a night to remember no matter what reality I’m in. I was so honored to be there for the first time ever. I vividly remember I was wearing a gorgeous navy blue satin dress with glittering jewels around the edges. The glittering jewels were a perfect complement to the gold sequins that adorn my dress as I made my way to the main event.inside, I was amazed by the opulence of the venue and how much effort has gone into creating such a beautiful spectacle. Everywhere I look I see incredible art installations, shimmering lights, and luxurious furnishings that all make me feel like I'm in a wonderland. To top it off, there's was incredible live music playing and the electrifying atmosphere that is enough to make anyone want to get up and dance.Of course, it wouldn't be a true Met Gala experience without some of the amazing food and drinks. From delicious hors d'oeuvres to exquisite sweet treats, everything was artfully prepared and presented, definitely making it a night to remember.
As the evening progresses, there was so much more to take in. Celebrities were mingling, taking pictures and making speeches; even just getting a chance to be in the same room with them was an incredible experience.My favorite moment was meeting a person I’m both of fan of here in this reality and that reality as well. I vividly remember Lily-Rose Depp gracefully walking through the hall, meeting people one by one and graciously talking to each of them.finally, it was my turn to meet her. She warmly shook my hand and asked me how I was doing. We began talking, and I found myself instantly at ease around her. We spoke about roles we've taken on in the past, our respective passions in life, and our favorite movies.
I was completely swept away by her enthusiasm for life and her willingness to connect on a deeper level with those around her. As we talked, I noticed that she kept casting glances around the hall- which I later found out was because she wanted to make sure that everyone present was enjoying themselves and feeling welcome. At the end of our conversation, she thanked me for taking the time to talk to her and added that if I ever needed anything, she'd be there to help out. I was holding back my giddy smile, trying to be as normal as possible, as I thanked her for her kindness.
I also vividly remember my upbringing and just how crazy wealthy people live.
Growing up, much of my time was spent attending events and dinners with other businesspeople. Although these were often overwhelming and boring at first, I gradually became more comfortable in such social settings and gained connections of my own.
Meanwhile, I also had access to mentors and peers from well-connected families. This allowed me to gain invaluable advice and knowledge on how to succeed in the professional world. In addition, to no surprise there were times when I was given advantages in certain situations due to my family ties. Doors that may have been closed to others opened up easily for me. This made it easier for me to take advantage of certain opportunities and advance my career. While this is true, it can often be a double-edged sword. Being a nepotism baby can make it hard to prove yourself, as there's always a nagging feeling that you got ahead because of a lucky birthright, but that of course in no ways compares to being born without connections. I think that’s something wealthy people tell their kids so they don’t feel like they didn’t work for anything because even if it’s true you don’t want the people you love to feel that way. Also, there's sometimes an element of guilt present due to knowing that others may not get the same opportunities as you. It can be difficult to separate what you've earned from what was given because of your family ties.
I was also lucky enough to have grown up in a huge mansion in the heart of Los Angeles, with all the bells and whistles that come with it. From the grand entrance walls adorned with family portraits and art to the private screening theaters and sprawling gardens, I'd say it's one of a kind.
The perks of living in a mansion come tenfold; I was on Tik tok the other day and saw people complaining (humble bragging) about the hardships of having a huge home. Growing up in one and having the experience now, it’s actually very common for rich people to portray their life as harder than it is to seem more human. It’s something we’re taught to do when we’re young so when I see it happen now, I’m like eye roll… I know exactly what you’re doing
Anyways I loved my house ! For starters, I loved my sunset pool that overlooks the city. It's the perfect place to enjoy a summer day in California with great views and a built-in Jacuzzi. Of course there's also my personal chef who helps whip up amazing meals for me and my family.
Having house help has made growing up here a breeze. Everyday necessities like laundry, chores and even grocery shopping are taken care of for me, leaving me more time to focus on things that really matter. I could write a list of things I needed, and the next morning everything I wrote would show up just like that, it was actually pretty dope. Not to mention the immense amount of help I get from my parents—they are both incredibly successful, so I'm always surrounded by people who, like them, have achieved incredible success.
More than anything, the best part of living here is that I get whatever I want. Shopping sprees, spa days and extravagant getaways are just a few of the indulgences that come with my lifestyle. I'm truly fortunate to have experienced a life of luxury and opulence—it's definitely given me a greater appreciation for all that I have been blessed with.
Lastly, I’m a big foodie no matter where I go so I’m also going to list some of my fav 5 star restaurants! I’m sure most if not all exist here as well so, if possible I would try them out!
-For seafood lovers, Manresa in Los Gatos, California is sure to tantalize your taste buds. With its commitment to local and sustainable ingredients, the restaurant offers an ever-changing menu that highlights delicious seafood dishes with a Californian flair. From the tantalizing tuna tartare and exquisite abalone dishes to the poached white sturgeon and Dungeness crab preparations, Manresa showcases its tasteful and creative cuisine that people rave about.
-If French cuisine is more to your liking, Alain Ducasse in Paris is sure to transport you to another world of classic French cuisine with a modern twist. During your visit, you'll enjoy dishes such as the butter-poached lobster tail, roasted poultry with Malavallee mushrooms, and crispy duck with crispy crimini mushrooms and creamy potato puree. And be sure to finish your meal with the magnificent desserts like the signature Mont Blanc cake.
-For a top-notch Italian experience, check out Osteria Francescana in Modena, Italy. Here you'll find an unforgettable Italian culinary experience with traditional dishes like beef cheek in Barolo wine, ravioli stuffed with prawns, zucchini flowers and stracciatella, and risotto with king crab. The family-run restaurant has come a long way since it first opened in 1995, achieving true worldwide fame for its simple yet lavish dishes.
-If you're planning a trip to Tokyo, you'll definitely want to make a stop at Sushi Saito. Not only is this two Michelin-starred restaurant applauded for its exquisite sushi and sashimi platters, but it's also home to the world's finest sushi chefs. From the uni and scallop nigiri to the tuna sashimi, each bite here is sure to delight your palate.
-Lastly, don't miss the opportunity to visit Geranium in Copenhagen and sample a unique take on modern Nordic cuisine. Chef Rasmus Kofoed delights guests with dishes that feature locally sourced, seasonal ingredients such as skyr ice cream, geoduck clams, and trout roe. With its innovative approach and bold flavors, Geranium has truly become one of the world’s finest restaurants.
No matter which five-star Michelin restaurant you choose, you can be sure that you'll experience exceptional food and service and leave with lasting memories of your sumptuous meal… but these were the most memorable to me.
Other than that I don’t really know what else to say unless you guys wanna hear specific things. It was a normal life, at least normal to me there because that’s just how I was raised 🥰🥰
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