#I believe she mentioned All at Sea was a favorite

[sketchy-lizards]

Thank you, Britt ❤️ rest in peace

[junkissed]

ocean view

member — junhui x f reader genre — romance, smut, strangers to lovers, soulmate au word count — 8.8k synopsis — an all expenses paid trip to greece for your friend's wedding seems too good to be true, but it gets even better when you meet a handsome stranger on the beach. with the help of a mysterious old lady, her magic deck of tarot cards, and one too many coincidences, you're starting to believe things really do happen for a reason. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, unprotected sex, fingering, marking, an oddly romantic one night stand, mentions of past hookups, reader wears dresses, way too much yearning, happy ending ! notes — my part for the @svthub world tour collab; check out the masterlist here! thanks to @multi-kpop-fanfics for answering all my questions and the biggest thanks ever to @onlymingyus for proofreading & helping me brainstorm throughout !! inspired mostly by the spell mv but also a little bit from nana tour and in the soop bc of the vacation vibes. disclaimer i know nothing about tarot but i did a ton of research so i hope that part makes sense anyway :) this fic was a huge challenge to write so please please reblog if you enjoyed reading, the feedback is super appreciated and it helps me keep writing!! read bonus material here!

they say time flies when you’re having fun.

it felt like just days ago when your best friend had announced she was flying everyone to athens for her destination wedding. between helping prepare for the wedding and getting yourself packed for the trip of a lifetime, a weekend on the beach sounded like exactly what you needed to unwind.

but now that you’re here, you’ve quickly realized that your dreams of lazy spa days, massages, and lounging on chairs in the sand with cocktails aren’t on your friend’s itinerary.

what is on her itinerary, however? clubs. lots of clubs, and bars, and raves.

the night before the wedding, you’d showed up at the place you had all planned to meet at for her bachelorette party, a popular bar right on the beach in the center of everything. you hadn’t been sure what to expect, so you’d worn your swimsuit underneath your sundress just in case. between wedding plans and jet lag, you hadn’t yet had the chance to explore the beaches, and you weren’t about to let your favorite white strappy one-piece go to waste without wearing it the whole trip; especially not when you’re surrounded by gorgeous clear waters you don’t get to see while you’re at home.

you tug at your dress a little awkwardly, a simple off-white piece with buttons all down the front. cute and casual, the perfect thing for an evening on the beach. except an evening on the beach is not what you’re getting.

“next round is on me!”

all the girls let out a cheer, clapping and whooping as they raise their glasses. you’re still not even halfway through your first drink; the night is young, but your friends are more enthusiastic partygoers than you are.

you lean away to check the time on your phone, trying not to feel defeated when you see how early it still is. you’ve been trying to hype yourself up for tonight all weekend, but it doesn’t help that your friends are bigger partiers than you. that isn’t to say that you dislike parties, or that you never go out; but parties like this, huge events with hundreds of people packed into a small space with loud music and flashing lights, aren’t really your ideal way to spend a saturday night. even for such a special, rare occasion like a bachelorette party in another country, you can’t bring yourself to get lost in the scene. you should’ve known how this would go, and yet here you are, standing at a cocktail table by yourself surrounded by drunk women.

you turn back around and suddenly the bar is a sea of unfamiliar faces, everyone around you lost in their own worlds jumping and dancing to the music that booms from the speakers. you stand up on your tiptoes to see above the crowd, trying to push your way through in search of someone you recognize, but it seems like they’ve all vanished.

the pounding of the music is starting to give you a headache, so you down the last of your drink and head away from the bar, pushing past people until the crowd eventually starts to thin and you break out into the open air.

it’s still light outside, but the contrast from the darkened bar makes it feel like stepping into another world. the noise gets quieter the farther away you move, and you find your feet carrying themselves down the beach. you walk backwards, turning to look over your shoulder one more time to see if you can spot your friends, but all you see is a crowd full of strangers.

it’s easier to breathe out here, feeling the freshness of the ocean breeze and the salty air in your lungs as you get further and further from the people and the businesses. you turn around again and almost run straight into a man walking from the opposite direction, and you stumble into his arms before you realize what’s happening. you let out a little squeak in surprise and jump backwards, almost tripping over your own feet but his hand instinctively shoots around your waist to help keep you upright.

your cheeks burn with embarrassment, an apology already ready on your lips, but he beats you to it. “sorry,” he says with a shy laugh, slowly letting go of you and offering his hand for balance as you slip your sandal back on that had come off. he steps back and gives you a polite smile, trying to move out of your way. “you look like you’ve got somewhere to be.”

“the opposite, actually. escaping my friend's bachelorette party," you explain. 

"we're in the same boat, then," he chuckles, tucking his hands into the pockets of his shorts. "trying to ditch the bachelor party. it’s a popular place for weddings, huh?”

“seems like it.” you hum, turning to look out over the water. the setting sun glints off the surface, a clear and bright sparkling blue, and you lift your hand to keep the glare out of your eyes. “i just didn’t think it’d be so…”

“…hectic?” he asks, and you laugh a little.

"yeah, you could say that.” a warm breeze ruffles through your sundress, and you cross your arms over your chest. “i guess all weddings are like that, though.”

he nods, following your gaze off into the horizon. you go quiet, listening to the music still loud in the distance and the sound of seagulls cawing above your heads. "i was hoping to get a chance to explore more of the beaches while i'm here. i don’t get to see it often."

"wanna go for a walk?” you ask suddenly, uncrossing your arms. maybe it’s the fresh air of a new place, maybe it’s the comfort of finding another person wanting to get away from it all, but some part of you wants to stay here and find out. you’d wanted to see more of the landscape anyway, and now seems like as good a time as any, especially now that you’ve got company.

he looks over at you, judging your expression before his face softens. “that sounds perfect.”

it’s still early enough that the beach is still mostly full of tourists, adults lounging on towels while reading books and kids splashing water at each other and playing in the sand. you walk further down the beach, passing in front of a grey haired old woman sitting cross-legged on a towel, shuffling a deck of cards in her wrinkled hands.

"always lovely to see couples enjoying the islands,” she calls out to you. there’s an almost rhythmic lilt to her voice, and it’s so sudden that it makes both of you pause and turn around, having paid her no mind as you walked past before. she gestures down at the deck and you finally notice that she’s holding a set of tarot cards, a deep matte black that seems to glitter and sparkle even while shadowed. “would you like a reading?”

your cheeks start to warm, and you push down the butterflies that flutter to life when she assumes you’re together. "oh, no, we're not—”

"sure," jun says over you, and you sneak a glance up at him when you think he's not looking. "how much?"

she clucks her teeth and shakes her head, staring directly at you although she’s answering his question. "no, no, no, my dear. just offering a bit of friendly advice. won’t cost you a thing."

jun nods, but she seems like she’s waiting for your answer so you quickly nod, too. “okay. what… do we have to do?”

she places her palms over the deck and closes her eyes, falling silent. you stand in front of her, feeling a little awkward to be hovering over her like this, but she it’s like she doesn’t even notice. you share a look with jun, but after a beat he grabs your hand and grins as if to say, just go along with it.

her eyes suddenly fly open and she seems pleased with whatever she was doing. “i knew i could feel it,” she says cryptically as she begins shuffling the cards. “but let’s just see what fate has to say about it.”

she stops and pulls the top two cards from the deck, placing them face down on the towel as she motions at them with her hand. at her signal, jun bends forward and turns over one of the cards, reading it aloud. “ace of cups.”

“ace of cups,” she repeats. “an invitation. the open, uninhibited flow of emotions, creativity, and love; the awakening of your spirit. this is a new beginning for you, the start of a new season. trust yourself and your feelings, and embrace the opportunity to grow with your emotions.”

jun nods seriously like he’s taking in her words, but you can see the hint of a smile at the corner of his lips that he’s trying to suppress.

she looks at you expectantly, and you hesitate before realizing she’s waiting for you to flip over the second card. you cheeks heat as you read it, but you try not to let it show. “the… lovers?”

she smiles, and although her face looks kind you have a sense that there’s something she’s not telling. “the lovers,” she says, almost solemnly. “many people think this card is strictly about romance. and in some ways it is, but what it really represents is a choice. two diverging paths, two responsibilities. will you choose with your head, or with your heart?”

she stares at you for another moment, then looks back at jun. you both stay quiet and still, subconsciously hanging on her every word as she pauses, clearly having more to say. “having these two cards come up together… now, that’s fascinating for you two, isn’t it?”

you find yourself nodding silently, although you have no idea why. you feel jun’s hand in yours, warm and soft and grounding, and the smallest shiver runs down your spine.

“the lovers and the ace of cups are the potential for new beginnings and the fulfillment that comes with following your heart,” she says, her eyes locked with yours. “this is a very powerful and meaningful connection, but only if you make the choice that is most heartfelt. you must be willing to be your most authentic self and hold nothing back. keep your eyes open, and you will be rewarded with profound joy and happiness.”

immediately you turn to look at jun to see his reaction. he looks just as confused—but is that a hint of excitement in his eyes?—as you do. the woman’s words are… cryptic, to say the least, but it stirs up a feeling of excitement in the back of your mind that you’re trying to ignore. it probably doesn’t mean what you think it does, right?

"hey, wait, so what does—”

you turn back to look at the woman for another explanation, but there's no one there. the beach is empty except for you and jun and the slowly setting sun, a few boats tied up at the dock. you’ve walked so far down the beach that even the distant music has faded into obscurity and you’re left standing alone together, surrounded by nothing but the sounds of the waves. even the wind has died down, and it feels eerily quiet but in an almost comforting sort of way, to be alone together in a place like this.

"you believe in that kind of stuff?" you ask curiously as jun starts to walk away.

"mm… not really. but she seemed like a lonely old lady. i thought it'd make her day." he looks down at your entwined hands and squeezes lightly, almost teasing as you look up and see the grin on his face. "why, do you?"

you can't help the butterflies that instantly flutter to life in your stomach when you feel his warm hand in yours, but you shrug. "why not?"

jun doesn't reply, just nodding thoughtfully as you continue to walk hand in hand. 

with the way the atmosphere has suddenly changed, it feels like time has stopped as you meander your way along the edge of the water. you chat off and on with jun, but there’s a hefty amount of silence that neither one of you feels obligated to fill. talking to jun feels like talking to an old friend, and maybe it’s the beautiful scenery or maybe it’s the way both of you had found yourselves here looking for company.

after a while you come to a stop just below the rocks where you’d started. your footprints from where you’d run into each other are still visible, little indents in the damp sand, and it reminds you of what you were running away from in the first place. maybe you don’t want to run anymore. 

"well…”  jun says, inhaling slowly. "we should get you back to your friends. i'm sure they're looking for you."

"would it be so bad if i said i didn't want to find them?"

he pauses to gauge your reaction, and you don’t miss the flicker in his eyes as he looks at you. after a moment nods and points up the shallow cliffs, towards a little stone staircase worn down from years of being travelled on. "my hotel is just up there. if… if you wanted to stay a little longer? with me?"

you pull your lip between your teeth, looking up at him and the way the fading sunlight shines through his soft brown waves, and it only takes a second to make your decision. “i’d really like that.” 

it turns out that missing out on your friend’s party for a few more hours is an easy price to pay for more time with jun.

the door of his hotel room barely has time to shut before your hands are on each other. you tug him closer by shirt with an eagerness you rarely allow yourself and he immediately reciprocates, pulling you by the waist until you’re pressed chest to chest.

his hand skims over your collarbone towards your neck, and you shiver at the warmth of his fingers caressing the side of your jaw. he angles your chin upwards and leans in as you meet him halfway and your lips finally touch, a low sound escaping from your throat as his nose brushes your cheek.

he makes a soft noise as he inhales, deepening the kiss until you feel your knees go weak. his hand cups your jaw harder, trying to draw you further into him, unwilling to break apart. he kisses you so softly yet you can still feel the intensity behind every movement of his lips, exploring your mouth with a gentleness that feels more natural than anyone you’ve ever kissed before.

jun curls his arm around you tighter, and you’re sure he can hear how fast your heart is beating as he kisses you again and again until you’re breathless. you slide your hands away from his chest and start to undo the buttons at the front of your dress, but he stops you. you look up and meet his gaze as his hand on your cheek moves to wrap around your waist, carefully walking you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed and you let yourself fall back onto it.

he lets out a quiet groan as you pull him down with you, landing on top of you and catching himself on his forearms beside your head. his face is inches away from yours, staring into your eyes for a beat before he presses down to capture your lips again.

his kisses feel like magic, and you almost forget exactly what you’re here to do. you’d be content to spend hours with his lips on yours and nothing else, but you’re quickly pulled away from it when he sits back and starts to slide his hands down your body, his nimble fingers skillfully undoing the buttons of your dress one by one.

he pulls the fabric away and lets it fall to the floor before leaning to kiss you again, and a grateful sigh slips from your lips at his touch. your fingers tug at his shirt and he breaks away once more to quickly pull it off over his head, tossing it behind him without a second thought.

your hands slide earnestly across his body, your fingertips trailing down his torso and the deep lines of his abs. his fingers brush over your swimsuit in tandem, tracing the cutouts of the fabric where your skin is visible and making you prickle with goosebumps at his touch.

he seems equally as content to just continue doing this, but eventually his hands make their way upwards and gently slip the straps off your shoulders. he doesn't move any further than that, waiting for you to move instead, his fingers resting at the base of your neck just beneath your chin. 

you follow his actions and shimmy the suit down, letting it bunch up at your hips. only then does he finally break apart from you, moving his mouth down to your exposed breast and letting his tongue glide over your peaked nipple. your skin tastes like salt and sweat, like sunny days and warm breezy nights, and he can't get enough of you.

the first moan you let out is like music to his ears, and immediately he craves more of them. he wraps his mouth around your other nipple while keeping his hands attached to your body like magnets, desperate to be the one to draw more of those pretty noises from your lips.

you lift your hips just a little and he quickly gets the hint, wordlessly pushing his fingers between your skin and the fabric of your swimsuit before tugging it all the way off. he pulls it down your legs and you help him kick it away, leaving you completely bare beneath him.

your hands slide across his shoulders and up the back of his neck, tangling in his hair with another moan that sends a shiver down his spine. you can’t help but roll your hips upwards against his body, squirming for more friction as your nails scratch at his scalp.

his face stays buried in your chest for a long time, moving between your breasts and planting wet kisses all along your skin. your head is spinning at the sight of this gorgeous man working his magic on your body, his hands wandering up and down with a tender purpose. you don't even know his name but you already know you're gonna be thinking about this night for months, probably even years. you're shocked at how good he is at this; there's a melancholy feeling looming in the back of your mind, knowing that this is probably the first and only night you’ll get to spend with him, but you don't have time to focus on that when you have the tingly feeling in your stomach to focus on instead.

despite not saying anything aloud you can tell exactly what he wants from you, and something about how easy this is sends a feeling of relief through you. all of the mistakes of your past hookups feel like a distant memory. there’s none of the empty conversations meant to do nothing more than fill the silence and the awkward, tentative movements that you’ve become accustomed to from strangers who aren’t familiar with your body. 

but something about the way jun touches you does feel familiar, like you’ve been waiting all your life for it, for him. his silence, something that most of your partners in the past had fought so hard to avoid, now only leaves more room for you to enjoy the sounds that often go overlooked: the wet hum as his lips connect with your skin, the distant crash of waves outside the window, the quiet whir of the ceiling fan.

jun leans down and kisses you again, shifting on top of you as his hand wanders down your hips. you pull him closer and let your hand travel a similar path, and you bite your lip in excitement when your fingers skim over the bulge straining against his shorts.

he lets out a strangled noise almost like a whimper at the contact but the sound only encourages you to add more pressure, soaking in his reactions. he whines again, pushing his hips into your hand and exhaling a shaky breath as you continue to palm him, feeling the hard outline of his cock as he struggles to keep his composure.

his knee is against your thigh and he repositions himself to press it higher between your legs, returning the favor and giving you something to grind on. instinctively your legs widen a little to give him easier access, and he rewards you with another hot, messy kiss.

you groan at the feeling, pushing your hips down towards him and rubbing yourself on him. it’s a little rough at first, but you’re already so wet that it doesn’t take long before his knee is coated in your arousal and you slide along him easily. 

after a minute he pulls back just an inch, giving you room to breathe, but one hand is still on your hip and the other curled behind you to support your neck. “good?” he asks breathlessly, and even though it’s clear as day that you’re enjoying this as much as he is, you still nod and give him an encouraging smile, and he returns it with a smile of his own. “just let me know,” he says, and the sultry yet sweet tone of his voice makes your heart skip a beat.

at your approval his hand begins to wander again, trailing over the top of your thigh. his finger slowly make their way down and you shiver, your hand stilled against his abdomen as you anticipate his next move.

you take this moment to get a good look at him; you’d been too shy to stare earlier on the beach, unsure how things were going to go. but now that he’s on top of you, shirtless and obviously just as eager as you are, you let your gaze roam unabashedly across his body. your eyes glide over his torso, the hollow slope of his collarbones and his hardened nipples, the deep-set grooves of his abs and the faint lines of his ribs beneath his skin. you want to reach out to touch him and run your hands over every inch of him, but you’re trying to be patient. and although you know your time here is limited, it seems like jun is only just getting started.

his fingers finally make it to your inner thighs, tracing the area around your pussy, but it’s still not close enough for your liking. you wiggle a little to try and encourage him, whining softly and letting out a little plea. his lips quirk up and he nods, his grip on the back of your neck tensing and tangling in your hair. 

his fingers finally brush against your entrance and you gasp, writhing at how gentle his touch is. he dips his middle finger into your heat before pulling it back out, trailing upwards to your clit to circle it for a moment before heading back down and repeating the process. it’s barely enough, yet it leaves you breathless almost instantly.

he’s staring down between your legs with an intense focus, spreading your arousal around before sinking back into you for more. and just when you think you can’t take it anymore, he pushes his finger in deeper, holding it still for a second even though you’ve already adjusted to it. he waits until you start moving, arching your back and trying to get him to go further, before he adds his ring finger and begins slowly thrusting both fingers in and out together.

you whimper and curse under your breath, trying to roll your hips to match his rhythm. he starts to curl his knuckles and you swear you see stars, despite the fact that he’s barely moving at all.

after a moment when you’ve regained the ability to breathe normally again you start to move your hand back against his bulge, shaky fingers dipping beneath the waistband of his shorts. you wrap your hand around him and your eyes widen at the thickness, the heavy weight of him in your hand and how you’re sure he must be aching by now. you feel the way his cock jerks when you squeeze ever so slightly, his fingers inside you freezing for a split second as his brain tries to process before he plunges them in even deeper, curling into you with even more fervor than before.

you hold him tighter and run your thumb over his tip, swollen and leaking with precum. he gets a little noisier with every move you make, unable to contain the pleasure he gets even from this. even the smallest touches from each other have both of you on edge in a way you’ve never felt before, drawn to each other like no one you’ve ever had before.

his clothes in the way are starting to frustrate you, so after another second you release his cock and move your hand up to the waistband of his shorts instead, trying to tug them down but it’s difficult from the position you’re both laying in.

“please,” you pant out desperately after having little success, and he obliges, pushing his shorts away as fast as possible before resuming his motions. he’s still almost completely ignoring himself as he continues to focus on you and only you, and his complete devotion gives you another boost of confidence.

now freed, his hard cock slaps against your thigh and you moan happily at finally being able to see all of him. it looks even better than it felt, thick veins bulging out across his length and his tip flushed a deep red. you wrap your hand around him once more, flicking your wrist as you start to jerk up and down.

his fingers curl upwards to massage the spot that makes your eyes roll back, and if you had any functioning thoughts left you would’ve marvelled at the fact that he was able to find it so easily, but you’re too busy arching your back against his pillow to think about that.

he can feel you starting to clench harder around him, making his fingers stutter inside you, so he pushes his other hand down on your hip to stop you from moving so much. he pulls his fingers out and your eyes dart back up to his face for an explanation, unable to stop the whimper that escapes from you at the loss, but the look in his eyes instantly puts you at ease. you can already tell he knows what he’s doing, and somehow he seems to know exactly what you need, so for once you don’t mind sitting back and letting someone else call the shots.

“can i fuck you now?” he murmurs, and it takes you a second to even hear what he said because you’re shocked at how low and rough his tone is since the last time you heard him speak. he wipes his fingers against the inside of your thigh as he waits for your reply, and you shiver at the cool wetness on your skin.

the best you can manage is a stuttered “yes”, and without a word of acknowledgement he pulls you off the bed, guiding you off your back and onto your hands and knees.

you let out a squeak at the sudden change but you let it happen, and a second later you hear his voice beside you, his breath warm against your ear. “still okay?” he asks, and despite the gruffness in his voice you can still hear the soft edge to his words.

“yeah,” you repeat, suddenly losing the ability to say anything else to express your pleasure, but somehow you know he understands. your stomach flutters at the low tone of his voice, steady and calm but so full of warmth and lust.

you feel the heat from his face move away from your skin, and you know he’s sitting up on his knees behind you. his hands slide down your sides, reaching under you to cup your boobs with both hands as he groans at the feeling. you let out a matching whine, pushing your hips back against him to feel his hard length against the soft flesh of your ass.

his hands still holding your breasts, he leans down over you to keep you flush to his body, your back pressed against his chest. he presses a kiss in between your shoulder blades, letting his tongue trace lightly over the ridges of your spine.

you grind backwards against him harder, your body on fire from his kisses as he starts to suck gently at the back of your shoulder. you’re not sure if it’s hard enough to leave marks, but you kind of hope they do, because then you’d be sure this encounter wasn’t a dream. what other explanation is there for the fact that you’ve not only met the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life, but that you’re currently on your hands and knees in his bed as he runs his lips over every single inch of you, waiting for him to fuck you? it’s too good to be true.

but it is true, and you know it when he pulls away to brush your hair to the side and expose more of your back for him. his fingers are still so gentle against your skin, his touch heavy but soft, and it makes you even more desperate for him.

after a while he lets go of you and leans back, taking his cock in his hand and gently tapping it against your ass. you groan and fall forward, pressing your face into the pillows and arching your hips up into the air. his hands slide down your sides, gripping your waist with a low groan as he leans forward to kiss the side of your neck again.

he finally pushes all the way into you, and it feels so good it takes your breath away for a second. you can feel your walls throbbing around him, struggling to adjust to the feeling of being so full in the best way, a way you haven’t felt this strongly in so long. it’s a feeling like no other, and it makes you wonder why you ever settled for anything else before this.

his hands are all over you like he can’t decide what to do first, but after a while they settle at your hips and give them an encouraging squeeze, waiting patiently for you to set the pace. finally you bring yourself to move, tipping forward to let him slide out of you just a bit before you lean back into him.

he adapts quickly to your rhythm, thrusting in and out and matching your pace, using his grip on your waist for leverage to push himself deep inside with every stroke.

“fuck,” he moans under his breath, finally breaking the silence, and with just that one sound you feel yourself starting to let go.

the words tumble out of your mouth and you ball your fists into his sheets, clinging to the bed to keep you grounded while your head is spinning. “please, please, yes—”

everything finally hits you all at once, like a tidal wave pouring over you as you fall forward and bury your face into the pillow with a broken whimper.

“don’t stop, please,” you whine breathlessly. your words are muffled by the pillow, but you can tell he’s heard them because his grip on your hips tightens even more, slamming into you with just as much force as before and carrying you through your orgasm.

jun has to bite his lip not to sail right over the edge with you, focusing all his energy on holding himself back until he feels your body go limp all at once, the waves finally subsiding and you let out a deep, pleasured exhale. he’s so close he can practically taste it, his skin flushed and damp with sweat and his abs burning with exertion. only once he’s absolutely sure that you’ve finished cumming does he let himself break, pulling out as fast as he can and wrapping his fist around his length with all the energy he has left.

he moans weakly at the loss of your tight, warm walls hugging him so perfectly, but the view as he jerks himself over you all but makes up for it. the sight of your ass pressed flush against his thighs, your lower back arched and on display like a gorgeous blank canvas, and it gives him such a rush until he can’t hold on anymore.

the warm, sticky liquid hits your back and you whimper into the pillow, instinctively lifting your hips even more towards him. his cum spurts out in thick ropes, painting your skin and pooling in the little divot at the base of your spine, running down your ass until it feels like you’re soaked in it.

he finally pulls back and lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding in, groaning as he sees you sitting still on the bed with your hips in the air. you feel the bed shift with his weight as he gets up, but you don’t pay any attention to it as you focus on trying to steady your breathing instead. something in your gut tells you to stay put, and sure enough, a minute later you hear the sink running and then feel the cool fabric of a damp washcloth brushing over your back.

he lays his hand on your ass and gently gives it a little squeeze to signal that he’s finished, and you finally fall over onto your side. you’re coasting on cloud nine, and everything feels both dulled and hypersensitive at the same time. the whir of the overhead fan is a little more prominent now, and the quiet drone echoes around in your brain.

“do you need water? or do you want a snack, or something?” jun asks, and while his voice still has a touch of shakiness as he’s recovering himself, you can tell his tone is back to the gentle and polite sound you’ve become used to hearing from him.

you shake your head, and he hums softly in acknowledgement as he points to the nightstand on the side of the bed closest to you. “there’s an extra water bottle there, if you need it. i haven’t opened it.”

you nod against the sheets, suddenly too tired to even think about forming words. jun climbs back onto the bed next to you, stretching out his long limbs and leaning against the headboard with a satisfied sigh. 

you surprise yourself when your body automatically reaches out for him, curling into his body and laying your hand across his forearm like a weight keeping him close. but what surprises you even more is when he mirrors the action, scooting closer to you and letting your head rest against his stomach. your first thought is that he makes a very comfortable pillow, and you let your eyes fall shut for a moment as your breathing returns to normal, wanting to savor this moment as you collect yourself and prepare to leave.

you open your eyes what feels like minutes later, but when you reach over to check your phone you realize you’ve been asleep for more than an hour. you inhale slowly and swallow, blinking a few times as the sore feeling in your hips reminds you of where you are.

instinctively, you start to panic a little. your friends are probably looking for you. you disappeared without telling anyone, and now you have to get back to your hotel and make sure you have enough time to sleep properly and get ready for the wedding in the morning. never mind that it was probably the best night you’ve ever spent with another person, and never mind that your friends are probably still out partying and haven’t even noticed you missing yet.

you slide off of the bed as quietly as you can, stumbling a little when your feet hit the floor. you crouch down to pick up your swimsuit off the floor and put it on, hopping on one foot as you slip each leg through the holes. it's darker outside now, but the street lamps and the moonlight shining through the sliding glass door that leads to the balcony of his hotel room are bright enough that it still feels like day. you're so focused on getting dressed and mentally running over your to-do list that you completely forget there's another person in the room until you hear his voice cutting through the silence.

“you don’t have to do that, y’know.”

you freeze and look up, your half-buttoned dress hanging loosely from your shoulders, your cheeks burning at the realization you’ve been caught.

jun swings his legs off the bed, crossing the room in a couple of strides before he’s standing in front of you. he’s wearing nothing except for the boxer shorts he threw on right before you fell asleep, and your cheeks flush even harder at the sight, despite the fact that you’ve already seen much more of him than this.

it takes every ounce of restraint you have to keep your eyes from straying, locked on his face before your gaze falls quickly to the floor where your sandals are left in a heap.

you didn’t mean to sneak off. but what else were you supposed to do? you hadn’t meant to fall asleep and stay as long as you did, either, and now you were stuck with the awkward conversation that always comes afterwards. the inevitable hurried goodbyes and uncomfortable tension as you try to put yourself back together and leave as fast as possible.

jun takes a small step closer to you, and despite all the confidence you know he has, it feels almost… tentative. as if you’re meeting for the first time and he isn’t sure whether or not he’s allowed to touch you yet.

there's a lingering feeling that you can't quite put your finger on yet. it's conflicting, because you know you can't stay but everything in you is screaming not to leave. maybe there's something you can do, anything you can do. is it all worth it? to turn your life around in a complete 180 for someone you barely even know— and yet, the last few hours that you’ve spent with him have been incomparably the best of your life.

after a moment he reaches out and starts to finish buttoning your dress for you, his fingers working them back through the loops with just as much care as he did when he was taking them off earlier.

“sorry,” you manage quietly, though you’re not even really sure what you’re apologizing for. a lot of things: sorry for running away, sorry for having feelings you probably shouldn’t be feeling, sorry for knowing this won’t work out despite the way you really, really wish it could.

but he just shakes his head as he finishes buttoning the last button. “i took it off. i can help you put it back on, too.” you can tell he knows what you had actually meant, but he’s ignoring it either for your sake or his. something about his words feels so easy, like all the problems in your head don’t mean anything anymore. here you are, an anxious and awkward and confused mess, and there he is, smoothing out the wrinkles in your dress like it’s something he’s been doing all his life.

he adjusts the strap on your shoulder with a gentle pat, but his hands linger for a few seconds longer than they should, and you lift your eyes to meet his. “can i kiss you again?” he asks quietly, and for some reason his choice of words sticks with you. not one final kiss, not a goodbye kiss, just again. like he’s refusing to admit this will probably be the last time you’ll ever see each other.

and you nod, and his hands slide up to cup your cheeks and pull you back into his lips, just as warm and just as soft and just as familiar as the first time. there’s something so innocent about kissing him, even in the midst of a complicated and confusing mess of emotions that makes you second guess everything. somewhere in the back of your mind you vaguely register that this is the last time you’ll ever kiss him, but as long as his lips are on yours it doesn’t matter. you’ll figure out how to deal with all that later; for now, the only thing you’re concerned about is the way he grips your chin and pulls you even closer.

it feels like hours later when you finally pull away, letting out a slow exhale as you try to blink yourself back to reality, and you know what has to happen now. “can you find your hotel on your own? do you want me to walk back with you?” jun asks, and you can feel the hesitancy in his voice.

“it’s not far,” you sigh quietly, turning away to slip your feet into your sandals that wait by the bed where you’d taken them off earlier. you should’ve said yes. “but… thank you.” your words hold a sincere weight to them, and it’s silent for a few seconds as you cross the room quicker than you want to.

“you could stay,” he says finally, but his hand is already on the doorknob and you both already know the answer. you hate that you have to be the one to tell him no, even though it’s been clear from the start what the outcome would be. you give him a small shake of your head, and he pulls on the knob. 

he stands and stares for a minute, watching you walk down the hallway and praying you’ll turn around. and then you do, glancing back at him over your shoulder, and he almost allows himself to have a little bit of hope that you might come back, even though you both know you can’t. when you find him still standing in the doorway your eyes light up just the slightest bit, and finally you disappear with a tiny little wave.

the door clicks shut again, and the silence that follows is louder than anything he’s heard all day.

“and you didn’t even get this guy’s number?!”

you wince at the tone in jeonghan’s voice, rubbing the back of your shoulder guiltily. “his name, either.”

“even after the magic old lady said all that shit about soulmates?”

“she didn’t say that!” you huff. your tone rises almost defensively, although it probably has no reason to. she didn’t say anything about being soulmates… right? “she said something like, ‘keep your eyes open for stuff around you’. but he said he didn’t even believe in it, anyway.”

a waiter carrying a tray of champagne glasses walks past, and he snags a couple of them, holding one out to you. “well, it doesn’t sound like you’re keeping your eyes open. it sounds more like your eyes are closed, actually. are you blind?”

you scowl and take the glass from him. “my flight home is tonight, hannie. i’m not gonna see him again.” you take a sip, letting it sit in your mouth for a second before you swallow. “and besides, he said he was here for a wedding, too. he could be from anywhere in the world. it would be impossible to find him.”

“doesn’t hurt to at least try.” you both stop in front of a circular table covered in flowers, with a little placard next to one of the plates with jeonghan’s name on it. “i guess this is my table. you want me to help you look for yours?”

you shake your head, pointing to a table a little ways away. “i saw mine on the way in, it’s over there.”

“whatever,” he hums at you, but you know he’s just teasing. “i still wouldn’t blame you if you ditched and ran off to try and find him.”

“not happening!” you call over your shoulder as you walk away, matching his playful tone. but you can’t help but feel like maybe he’s right.

jun taps his fingers against the table, staring mindlessly at the bubbles floating in his glass of champagne. he’s stuck in his head— no, that’s not right. that’s not the problem. you’re stuck in his head. it’s nearly a full day later and he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you, the taste of your lips, the feel of your breasts in his hands, the scent of the shampoo in your hair. if that wasn’t the most perfect hookup in the history of hookups, then he doesn’t wanna know what is.

he still feels bad for not even paying attention during the ceremony, because he was too busy imagining you and him up there on the altar kissing instead. god, what he wouldn’t give for another kiss like that. but just like you, he knows it never would’ve worked out, and despite the what-ifs that are chewing him up inside and the fact that he definitely, absolutely, totally would’ve tried to make it work however large the distance was, he knows it’s probably for the better. even if it means he’s gonna spend the rest of his life pining after a girl he met on vacation for less than a single day, and he’ll never even know your name.

he takes a swig of his champagne and tries to put on a cheery face. this is a wedding, after all, and he can’t afford to spend all his time pouting when he’s in a beautiful city by the seaside enjoying delicious food and near perfect weather.

and then he sees you.

not really, of course, because it’s probably the champagne going to his head after chugging the majority of his glass like a frat boy at a college party. but then he blinks, and it really is you, wandering around for a second before you sit down at a table on the other side of the venue, wearing a soft blue dress that’s even prettier than the one he saw you in yesterday.

he blinks again, not fully believing that it’s you and not just the combined effect of the alcohol and his daydreams, but you’re still there when he opens his eyes again. and he knows it’s you, because he can see the faint hickies on your back and shoulders that you clearly tried to hide with makeup but couldn’t fully reach.

the chances that he’d see you again—not even that, but the chances that you’d be attending the very same wedding he was—must be one in a billion. maybe even more. yet there you are, picking at your nail and staring wistfully at your empty plate as you wait for the reception to start.

he stares for another minute, just to make sure you’re actually real, before he stands up and makes his way to the terrace at the back of the venue where the groom is standing next to a tower of cupcakes.

“gyu,” he greets him, “hey. are we allowed to switch tables?”

“i… don’t think so?” mingyu hums, a little off guard by the sudden question. “i made sure we put you next to hao, but—”

“if i give you twenty bucks, can you put me at table 8 instead?” jun’s eyes flicker with desperation, and he has to force himself not to look back over at you.

mingyu whines apologetically and hesitates, glancing at his bride a little ways away as she talks to a table full of guests. “she did all this planning, jun, i can’t just change everything now…”

“it’s not changing everything.” jun pulls his wallet out of his pants pocket, already rifling through the bills. “i’ll make it a hundred. mingyu, please, just switch me,” he says.

the whine in jun’s voice makes him pause, and he bites his lip as he considers it. on one hand, he could have his brand new wife a little bit mad at him for a while (who’ll probably forgive him the second she gets in bed with him tonight), plus get to help his friend and get an easy hundred dollars out of it. or, on the other hand… he could not help him, and his wife would never know, and jun would probably hate him for some unknown reason even though he doesn’t think jun has a single bone in his body capable of hating anybody. the decision is easy.

mingyu takes the bills from jun’s hand and stuffs them in his pocket before anyone can notice. “go ahead,” he says, tossing his head in the direction of the table. “i don’t know what it is you want, but don’t let anybody see you.”

“thanks! i owe you!” jun grins and hugs him, letting out a noise almost like a squeal before he turns and dashes away.

you’re barely paying attention to the reception anymore as you sit with your chin in your hands, again mentally running over all the things you need to pack and how on earth you’re going to be able to board your flight tonight and leave everything behind. the beaches, the city… and him. how are you supposed to just get on a plane and get on with your life, knowing that he’s out there somewhere in the world, and you’re never going to see him again. 

you’re trying not to sulk, but you can’t help the way your mood has been sour all morning, already filled with regrets and you haven’t even left yet. maybe you should’ve skipped the wedding altogether and spent another day in his bed, wrapped up between his sheets and lying in his arms. but then the rational part of your brain reminds you that he was also in town for a wedding, so even if he’d wanted to or even been okay with doing that, he probably had other plans anyway.

you’re still trying to figure out what to do about your hopeless situation when you hear a sound close behind you. it startles you into putting a smile on your face, preparing yourself to socialize although you really aren’t in the mood to.

“is this seat taken?” jun asks as he pulls out the chair to your left and sits down.

your brows furrow in confusion, trying to place the familiar voice, until you turn around and your jaw drops when you see who it belongs to.

you stare at him in shock, your eyes darting back and forth between his trying to figure out what to say. “you’re not joshua,” is the best you can come up with as your mouth hangs open and you whip your head around to check the list of names assigned to this table. you recognize them all, yet here he is: the nameless stranger you’ve fallen so helplessly in love with in so short an amount of time.

he smiles at your reaction, and it’s such a genuine smile that you know he’s feeling exactly the way you do right now. “i guess you’re right. i’m not.” he brushes the name card in front of him to the side and sets his own down in its place instead before he holds out his hand to shake. “it’s nice to meet you. i’m jun.”

you pause for a minute, staring at his hand. you can’t believe this is real, you can’t believe he’s real; you’d almost been able to convince yourself that the whole encounter last night was a fever dream, if you hadn’t woken up in the morning with a soreness between your legs that screamed that it definitely was not a dream.

finally you reach out and take his hand, and even in that little touch you can tell it really is him, from the way your heart picks up when you feel the familiar softness of his skin and the gentle squeeze that sends goosebumps down your arm.

“it’s nice to meet you, too.”

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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[lucysarah-c]

I wrote this little piece a while ago and I decided to do a little continuation.

Masterlist to all the parts.

"Oh, there he is," Erwin said, spotting his friend in the crowd at the military event. He began navigating through the sea of people, keeping his hand close to the small of her back without actually touching it—a subconscious gesture of protectiveness over her petite frame. It was as if he was afraid she might get hurt as he led her through the throng. When they reached their destination, he cleared his throat to get the attention of the two standing before them. Hange smiled warmly, but Levi turned around, frowning deeply. Social events were Levi's least favorite, especially those Erwin coerced him into attending. "Levi, this is Y/N. Y/N, Levi," Erwin introduced them, gesturing between the two. Y/N smiled softly. "Nice to meet you, Captain." She had met Hange a few times in the past, but seeing Levi at such an event was a rare occurrence. "Yeah, same," Levi replied curtly, maintaining his usual stoic and uninterested demeanor. Y/N spent a bit more time with the group of scouts until some of her friends arrived, beckoning her to join them. "I should get going," she said, turning to properly greet her friends. She nearly collided with Levi in the process, causing her to chuckle with a mix of embarrassment and mischief. "Well, since we're here—" she murmured, and before Levi could react, she made a kissing sound and pressed her cheek against his. "Bye, Captain. Take care." She then bid farewell to Hange and Erwin the same way and disappeared into the crowd. Later that night, on her way home, she bumped into Erwin again. "I don't think your friend liked me very much," she commented, tightening her coat against the chill. "He was so quiet and didn't seem very friendly." Erwin chuckled. "Don't worry… he's always like that." -- Meanwhile, Levi and Hange were making their way back to the scout facility. "She's going to be the mother of my children," Levi said, almost in a trance. Hange burst into laughter. "You'll have to actually talk to her for that to happen." "Fuck—"

 "So..." 

Levi cleared his throat and took a sip of his tea; his Adam’s apple rise and fall as the brown liquid slid down. He sat on a chair opposite Erwin’s desk, one arm draped casually over the back, his right leg crossed on top. The chair’s wheels allowed him to rotate slightly, giving Erwin a side view. 

Erwin's hand, which had been meticulously working on a map for the upcoming expedition, paused for a moment. A subtle grimace flashed across his face before he regained his composure and continued. Levi had been acting strangely ever since he stepped into the office to deliver paperwork. Normally, he would have left the pile and walked out. But today was different. Levi had seated himself, poured a cup of tea, and now, he was clearing his throat. Erwin knew Levi wanted something. By his demeanour, it was clear that whatever was on Levi's mind was significant enough to make the usually decisive Captain hesitate. 

"So, mhp—" Levi cleared his throat again and adjusted his position in the chair, trying to appear nonchalant but only raising suspicion. Erwin kept his eyes on his work, though his mind was wandering, waiting for Levi to reveal his purpose. "How did you and..." Levi paused, frowning slightly, as if searching for a name. "Y/N? I think that's her name." 

Erwin couldn't help but chuckle, a sound that echoed in the empty office. He bit the inside of his cheeks to stifle his laughter as Levi shot him a glare. 

"What’s so damn funny?" Levi's tone was sharp, a stark contrast to his earlier hesitation. 

"You," Erwin replied without hesitation, a smirk lingering on his lips. "It took you three years to remember Nile's name and stop calling him 'pathetic mustache.' And now you expect me to believe you casually mention my friend’s name as if you don’t remember it?" 

Levi snorted, offended by the implication that he was being less than straightforward. 

“What about my friend?” Erwin set his pen down carefully to avoid staining his work with ink. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs and intertwining his fingers. 

"You always say I need to be more sociable with other divisions, and now—" 

Levi's feeble excuse was cut off by Erwin. "And you decided to start by getting to know my close friend?" 

The tension was palpable, like a taut wire ready to snap. Erwin had caught Levi, much like a parent waiting for their child to confess a known transgression. 

"Levi, if you’re trying to hit on a friend of mine whom I consider like a little sister, at least have the guts to admit it." 

Levi's eyes remained fixed on the wall, motionless as if hoping the scrutiny would vanish if he stayed still, like a cornered animal. 

"You never introduce me to anyone interesting, and when you do, you gate-keep them." 

"I never introduce you to anyone interesting because you never attend social events," Erwin countered. 

Levi’s expression was impassive, but Erwin could almost see a hint of a pout. "Y/N was in her final year of nursing training in the military when I needed a medical companion for my aging mother. They initially refused because such services were usually reserved for the MPs. But after insisting, they sent their least experienced one. Despite that, Y/N was young but extremely dedicated. My mother adored her, treating her like her own daughter. She cared for my mother until her last day, and that's how I know her." 

Levi nodded slowly, as if absorbing the information. Erwin’s account only heightened her appeal in Levi’s mind. Her charming, outgoing nature and the sparkle in her eyes as she smiled captivated him. It felt offensive that he didn’t know every detail about her. 

"With that said..." Erwin continued, straightening up and returning to his paperwork, "Whatever plans your former thug mind is conjuring, I suggest you rethink them." 

Levi frowned. "I can't even ask? I wasn’t planning on doing anything." 

"Yeah, yeah, and I was born yesterday," Erwin replied with a hint of sarcasm. 

The truth was, Levi wasn’t doing anything. Since they first met, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. It made him feel like one of the awkward teenagers he often supervised, hoping to spot her in a crowded room only to shy away when she appeared. Talking to her casually seemed more daunting than reclaiming Wall Maria. 

Their paths had crossed occasionally, but usually, she approached to greet Erwin, and Levi remained silent. 

"Your hair doesn’t look that shitty," Levi mentioned once, out of the blue. The bustling hallway of the Capital building suddenly felt quiet, amplifying the awkward silence. 

She raised her eyebrows in surprise, then frowned slightly as she processed his comment. "Well... considering I’ve been on emergency on-call for the past 48 hours, I'll take that as a compliment," she chuckled, half-friendly, half-confused. 

‘It was a compliment...’ Levi thought to himself. 

If there were a cure for his infatuation, it would require something he absolutely lacked: sociability. 

"Hope you have a great expedition," she offered her best wishes. 

"Yeah, you too..." Levi responded before he could think. 

She laughed softly. "Thank you, but the only expedition I'm planning is to my bed." 

‘Smooth as sandpaper,’ Levi thought, grateful for his stoic expression to hide how much he wished he could disappear at that moment. 

Each encounter felt worse than the last. He said less each time, feeling increasingly awkward. He clenched his teeth as he watched her joke around with Erwin, effortlessly friendly and outgoing. 

It shouldn’t be this hard. He just needed one chance. She was always surrounded by MPs, and Levi knew he was ten times the man they would ever be. But every opportunity slipped away like water through his fingers, and he found himself watching her leave with a sweet smile and a gentle kiss on the cheek, her hair flowing behind her. 

‘Do you need landing lights on my bed? I want to sleep with you!’ 

It was a paradox. He constantly thought about her, yet Levi realized he hadn’t felt such a strong necessity to pin someone down in his bed in years. Imagining those eyes looking at him half-lidded, hearing her soft whimpers... it was intoxicating. But it also felt wrong, as if even thinking about it insulted her honour. 

One chance. That’s all he needed. 

"Oh!"  

Levi could recognize that voice from a mile away. He turned around in the hallway while they were idly waiting for a meeting with the higher-ups. There she was, walking confidently towards them. To the Captain, it felt like she was coming straight to him. "Aren't you my saviour?" 

'Savior? Yeah, I can be whatever you want,' Levi's brain struggled to form a coherent thought. But as soon as she reached them, and Erwin was the first to receive her greetings, Levi's hopes sank like a stone to the bottom of a river. He clicked his tongue in frustration while the two of them caught up on their respective lives. 

Automatically, he dissociated, feeling like a third wheel. "So... wouldn't you be my saviour?" The question was repeated, and it took Levi a couple of seconds to realize by the sudden silence that she was referring to him. His eyes lifted to find her looking at him with a cheeky smile and subtle, pleading eyes. 

"Huh?"  

"Wouldn't you do me a tiny, teeny favour, Captain?" She asked, holding her fingers close together to show just how small her request was. 

Levi gulped, feeling weak under her doe-eyed look and subtle pout as she feigned innocence. The sensible part of his brain told him to at least ask what the favour entailed. However, his other instincts took over, and he found himself saying, "Sure." 

"Oh! Thank you so much!" Without another word, she grabbed his hand and started dragging him down the hallway. Levi offered no resistance. Her pace was brisk, and as she turned to call back, "Don’t worry, Erwin. I won’t keep him long!" 

"You better not; I went all the way to the Underground to get him," Erwin joked, playing along. 

Levi wasn’t fond of being touched, but her hand felt so soft against his. For her, he’d make an exception. Even as she led him out of the building and down the streets of the Capital, he didn’t mind. When they reached the hospital nearby, Levi started to wonder if he had inadvertently agreed to donate his organs. 

"I have a group of orphans at the hospital who were brought in to get the new vaccine," she explained. "But they've been very fussy about it. I bet if they see the mighty Captain Levi, humanity’s strongest soldier, getting his shot, they’ll be brave enough to get theirs too. Right?" 

'So... I just agreed to get a vaccine because my brain is as fucking sexually frustrated as Kirschtein,' Levi thought, mentally kicking himself.  

The wide-eyed children stared up at Levi with so much admiration that their mouths hung open. He couldn’t help but smile subtly. Usually, the loud admiration from citizens wasn’t something he enjoyed. But seeing the kids' starry-eyed wonder was heartwarming. 

"See, Captain Levi isn’t scared of getting his shots," she told the kids as she prepared a cotton swab with alcohol and loaded the syringe. The children’s tears dried up, and their cries ceased as they watched the soldier intently. 

"Could you take off your sleeve on one arm, Captain?" she asked sweetly, hastily moving around. Levi quickly complied. She turned back to him once everything was ready and chuckled, "You’re more ripped than I thought under that uniform," she murmured, slightly blushing as she wiped his pale skin with the cold cotton. 

Levi's eyes never left her face as she was so close that he didn’t even feel the needle go into his arm. He was intoxicated by her delightful perfume and the way her eyelashes framed her eyes. He was tempted to lean in and close the gap between them. 

"All done. See, it doesn’t hurt!" 

Before he knew it, she had finished. She placed a band-aid on his arm and stepped back. "If you all want to grow up to be as strong as Captain Levi, you’ve got to get your shots and eat your vegetables! Right, Captain?" 

Levi snapped back to reality, which was far less appealing than his fantasies. "Ah, yes, listen to her, kids," he said, rolling his sleeve back down. 

"Now, who wants to go first?" 

Suddenly, all the children raised their hands eagerly, begging to be the first to get their shots. It was his chance—stay around until the kids left the room and offer his services for any future occasions she needed him. Maybe next time, they could have tea together, and then... 

"Here," she interrupted his thoughts, placing an ice pack on his arm and handing a bottle of painkillers to the nun in charge of the kids. 

Levi looked at her, puzzled. "You’ll need this. Your arm will hurt like crazy in a couple of hours." 

"I thought you said it didn’t hurt," he said, incredulous. 

She laughed, her chuckle echoing in the hospital room. "First rule of medicine: you never tell a man or a child how much a shot will hurt. You’ll probably have a fever tonight." 

Levi felt absurdly and grotesquely tricked. "And what about my painkiller?" he asked, feeling like a little kid begging for a lollipop. 

"Oh, Captain, I’m sure you have someone who can take care of you tonight if your temperature rises a bit," she teased, sassiness in her voice. 

'Wait... what?' 

--- 

"So, let me get this straight—you’ve got a 39°C fever, and you didn’t even ask her out on a date?" Hange questioned, checking the thermometer that confirmed Levi's high temperature. 

Levi slumped in his office chair with a cold compress on his forehead and another on his arm, his cheeks flushed, feeling as though a Titan had stomped on him. 

"You truly are an idiot," Hange declared. 

"At least she thinks I'm getting laid!" Levi argued back weakly, his voice hoarse and his eyes glazed. 

"Yeah... she also thinks you’re taken, so she wasn’t hitting on you." 

"Fuck—"

(If I get any new idea on how to persue Levi's journey on trying to win the reader over, I'll haha)

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[greenwitchfromthewoods]

sea ​​shore. l General Marcus Acacius

Summary:  your father wanted you to accompany the General, but you didn't want to do it.

Warnings:  +18, smut, fingering, unprotected sex (remember - safety first), breeding kink, mention of blood, a little bit of angst (but not really)

A/N: it was one thought and then i sat down and wrote thist. there are definitely mistakes, sorry. but i hope you like it. your feedback is very important to me and I want to thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. I secretly hope you like this story.🖤

"Gods! How much longer do I have to listen to this? Why do you have to be such a disobedient daughter?" your father's loud voice echoed through the garden, and the birds, startled by this, flew off from a nearby tree with a screech. "You're just like your mother! Like your mother!"

"You always said that I got my best traits from her." you replied, not hiding your agitation at all.

"And the worst too! You're stubborn and insufferable." your father took a sip of wine from his goblet and nervously stood up from the armchair placed in the shade of a large tree. "I don't know why the Gods make fun of me like that! They punished me with a daughter like you."

"Or maybe they blessed you." you added.

The man snorted something under his breath and shook his head in disbelief.

For several days, your house had been shaken by more and more arguments. Even the servants had already gotten used to them and they didn't react to your raised voices, only sneaking under the walls or, like now, between the flower bushes and trees.

It all started when last week your father, one of the most distinguished generals of the Roman Empire, announced to you after returning from the Emperor's palace that you would go to the province to your estate by the sea.

You were surprised. It wasn't the time of year when you went to that place. And then he proudly declared:

"General Marcus Acacius will honor us with his presence there. Unfortunately, I can't accompany him, but you know this place very well. You will be a pleasant company for him."

You resisted almost immediately. General Acacius was the Emperor's favorite. A brilliant commander, brave and untamed. However, you had no intention of spending time in his company. You knew this type of people, soldiers, very well.

They were brutal and aggressive. They always took what they thought was theirs and didn't show any brilliance.

Of course, your father was different. That's why your mother married him. Unfortunately, fate gave them only one child, a daughter. So you grew up among gardens and shields, and you weren't afraid to say what you thought. Your mother died when you were still little, and your father never married again. So you were the only one left.

And now you were looking at him furious like some goddess of anger and storm, and he had no idea how to deal with you.

"General Acacius is a great man. His presence will be an honor for us." Your father tried to speak calmly, although you rolled your eyes.

"Our family has enough honors, father." you replied. "Years ago, you were in his place. You conquered new territories and wealth for the glory of the Empire."

"But I'm old now. Let the old man enjoy the fact that his home will accept such a wonderful man. Please, go there with him tomorrow. Show him what wonderful lands we have. Please your old father's heart."

"You're perfidious, father." you sighed. "You play the old man card, when you're full of strength. You were training in sword fighting just yesterday!"

You wanted to add something else, but hurried footsteps on the gravel path distracted you. One of the servants appeared and bowed low.

"Sir." she said quietly. "You have a guest. General Acacius has appeared at your request."

"Bring him to the garden, please." your father replied, completely ignoring your indignant look, and added to you. "The matter is settled and beyond discussion. Pack your bags. You're leaving tomorrow."

"I can't believe you invited him here!" you hissed.

Your father just shrugged and poured himself another glass of wine. You knew you couldn't resist any longer and had to fulfill his request. You understood his arguments and you knew that, as the heir to his lineage, you had to make sure that your family didn't lose what your father had fought so hard for.

"Oh, Marcus! It's wonderful to see you." Your father beamed, looking over your shoulder.

"Greetings, Lucius." A low voice rang out behind you, and a stocky man appeared immediately after, shaking your father's hand.

He was tall, with broad shoulders and tanned skin. His dark hair had streaks of gray on his temples, but he was still very handsome. The armor he wore contrasted with your father's white toga.

"Marcus, this is my daughter, Y/N." The General's brown eyes landed on you, he looked at you searchingly. "She'll show you our estate. I'm sure you'll be pleased. You'll spend these few days in almost royal conditions."

"My lady." Marcus nodded, but you didn't even flinch. 

You reminded him of the sculptures of goddesses he'd seen in temples. Beautiful and inaccessible, shrouded in a wonderful fog of mystery.

"Of course, she can talk. She's just a little..."

"I'm dissatisfied." You replied, looking bravely at the General.

"Why is that?" the man asked, folding his arms across his chest, clearly interested.

"I think you'd be more comfortable with my father's company, General." You continued, not looking away from him, even though his eyes were boring right through you. "I'm just a weak woman, I don't think I'd be interesting company for someone with your reputation."

"But certainly very beautiful." Acacius replied.

"Y/N, please go to your chambers and pack." Your father quickly intervened, because he saw that you had opened your mouth again.

You nodded and walked away from your guest. Marcus watched you go until you disappeared into the cool walls of your home.

"A charming creature." He stated, smiling at the older man.

"Yes, indeed." Lucius handed him a glass of wine and raised his own slightly before bringing it to his lips. "Lovely, like her mother. Unfortunately, the Gods only gifted us with her. Sometimes I think it was easier to tame the barbarians on the outskirts of the Empire than to engage in battle with a woman like her."

"Rome needs women like her too." Marcus swallowed a sip of sweet wine.

"And she needs a husband!" your father laughed and sat back down in his chair. "Someone to teach her how to be humble. Maybe when she gives birth to her own children, she'll understand that I always wanted the best for her."

"We don't know what fate has in store for us, Lucius."

The man nodded and looked longingly at the entrance his daughter had disappeared through.

A pleasant, cool wind from the sea swept over your face. The sound of waves crashing against the shore and the cries of white seagulls flying above them filled your ears. You loved this place.

Even as a child, you could spend hours looking for shells and small crabs on the shore. You ran away from the waves that tickled your feet, ran up the sand dunes and picked wild flowers growing nearby.

This house was a safe place for you and now, as you stood on the balcony looking at the setting sun, you felt peace and gratitude.

You heard a rustle and after a moment someone's lips brushed your exposed shoulder, and strong arms wrapped around your waist.

"Why did you leave the bed?"

"I like this view at this time." You replied, feeling kisses slowly creeping up to your neck, you tilted your head slightly, giving him better access to this sensitive spot. "Don't you think it's beautiful?"

"I have a much more beautiful one before my eyes." he mumbled quietly.

You smiled, reaching out behind you and sliding your fingers into his soft hair. As his soft lips roamed your shoulder, one of his hands squeezed your breast tenderly. A quiet sigh escaped your chest.

"Marcus..." you sighed, "You're insatiable..."

"I'll never get enough of you, love." he whispered, "I could die between your thighs or feeling your lips on mine."

"You better not do that." you giggled, turning in his arms and looking into those beautiful eyes, "How am I going to explain to my father that General Acacius died with his dick buried inside me."

"You're right." he nodded, "That could be a tough one. But such a death would be glorious."

His warm lips captured yours. You loved their taste from the first moment. 

When you first met Marcus many months ago, you couldn't take your eyes off him. And he experienced the same, he admitted it to you during one of your secret meetings. You were sure that fate had placed you opposite each other, you couldn't fight it.

His lips quickly tasted yours. Your bodies found their way to each other and soon you were repeating his name in amorous ecstasy. However, you hid it from prying eyes. Marcus was still on the Emperor's orders, and you were afraid of your father's reaction if you tied your fate to the soldier.

"Now everything will change, my love." he whispered, pressing his forehead to yours. "Soon I will be only yours, and you only mine."

"I have belonged to you for a long time, Marcus." you replied. "Since the first time I saw you, I knew..."

"Tell me."

You knew how much he loved it when you confessed your love to him or told him about what awaited you when times became calmer and more gracious for both of you. These stories gave him strength, and your voice soothed his racing thoughts.

He adored you every day. And every night he would raise prayers to the Gods, thanking them for the grace they had bestowed upon him. He didn't think a man like him deserved someone so wonderful and pure.

And yet you were. He held you in his arms, felt your heartbeat, kissed your lips. You were more material than what he believed in.

"I knew you were mine," you said quietly, the pads of your fingers brushing his lips. "You looked at me like you had been searching for me your whole life. And I felt like I had suddenly come alive. I had never felt like this before."

"I thought you were just a dream..." Marcus whispered, his lips brushing your fingers. "I was afraid that if I blinked, you would disappear. If that happened, my heart would never know peace. I didn't think I deserved someone as heavenly as you..."

Your hands rested on his cheeks, and you looked straight into those eyes you loved.

"Marcus, you are the bravest man I know. I couldn't give my heart better than in your hands."

"My hands are stained with blood, my love."

"So let me wash them with my love and devotion to you."

You kissed him, feeling the remnants of sweet wine on his lips. You clung to his bare chest, letting the sheet you were wrapped in slide to the floor. Marcus' hands rubbed your back as he kissed you back.

He slowly moved you and you felt a cold pillar behind you. You leaned against it. Marcus' hand slid between your thighs, touching your slippery folds. The remnants of what he had left there recently were trying to leave.

You moaned quietly, feeling his fingers slide into you.

"You're so beautiful... So divine." he murmured in your ear, glancing as his fingers disappeared inside you. "I filled you to the brim, and I know you'd take even more. I'd like you to walk around Rome with my cum flowing lazily down your thighs... It would remind you of all those moments together. And I'd know that you carry something of mine inside you."

"I've walked like this before..." you replied, smiling seductively. "I felt your seed between my legs when I was talking to my father's guests, and once even at a party in the Emperor's palace."

Marcus growled deeply at the mere memory of how he had possessed you, quickly and hard, during that party, when you both had disappeared for a moment in the dark corridors, unnoticed. His fingers were delving deeper into you, teasing that sensitive spot that was giving you incredible pleasure.

"Yesterday, when I saw you in the garden with your father, I wanted to kiss you." he confessed, kissing the corner of your mouth. "I wanted to fall at your feet, confess my love to you, and beg him to let me marry you. Gods! You were so adorable with those pouty lips and that angry expression."

"I think I would strangle you if you did!" your hand slid down his soft stomach, through his pubic hair, straight to his hard cock. "My father is not ready to part with me yet. I know he says otherwise, but believe me, he is not ready." you stroked his hard manhood a few times and Marcus groaned "But now everything will change. When we come back, a new life will be waiting for us."

"I can't even imagine it, love. Are you sure - ohhhh.... Are you sure he'll agree?"

"Of course he will." His fingers slipped out of you and Marcus stood between your legs, lifting you up slightly and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he slowly lowered you onto his cock "He respects you so much... Ohhh, yes!... He'll be happy when a general like you tames his daughter."

You were so juicy that his cock slid into you without the slightest problem all the way to the base. You breathed deeply, letting your walls get used to the stretch. Even though Marcus had been inside you so many times, each time you felt the same pleasant feeling of being completely filled by him.

"I want you to be my wife, not my servant." he said softly "I will only enslave you in the bedroom when you let me. When you let me be raw and rough, I will fuck that wonderful pussy until tears come to your eyes and your throat hurts from screaming my name."

He thrust his hips and you moaned, wrapping your arms around his neck tighter. He moved hard, his fingers digging into your soft hips where there were already marks from your last closeness. He felt your cunt squeeze him, still hungry for his seed.

Your back ached from being pressed against the column, but you didn't complain. Each thrust was harder and brought you closer to your peak.

"Tell me you'll let me put a baby in your womb." His voice was interrupted by every breath, but you felt that those words went straight to your core. "Tell me I'll see your swollen belly, your milky breasts... You'll be the goddess of life."

"I'll let you fill me to the brim every night... OHHHH! I want to carry your seed inside me, like fertile soil. Our sons and daughters will grow for the glory of your lineage." you moaned, digging your nails into his strong shoulders. "I'll be surprised if we don't come back from here with one of our children nested in my womb. Gods!" 

The mere thought that you could already be with his child made Marcus start thrusting into you harder and more determinedly. 

You felt that you wouldn't last long. His strength and passion were so great that soon you felt your body tense up, and the velvet walls tightly wrapped around his cock. Waves of pleasure flooded your entire body, but Marcus didn't stop. A few more thrusts made his seed flood your pussy once again. Driven by natural instinct, with a loud groan, he pushed them in further and further, as if he wanted to be sure that your prophecies would come true.

You put your forehead to his, you felt his sweaty skin under your fingers, his hot breath warmed your breasts.

You still had him inside you as the cooler evening wind caressed your skin. The cries of seagulls tore you out of your reverie for a moment. He slowly lowered you and your legs buckled slightly under you as your feet touched the cold floor.

"Kiss me, my love." he whispered, and you gladly fulfilled his request.

You kissed the man you loved with tenderness and devotion, you wanted him to feel everything that was in your heart that you couldn't express. And you knew that Marcus felt it.

"You were definitely right about one thing." he stated after a moment, looking at you with love “There are truly beautiful views in this place."

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[lalunanymph]

i. PROLOGUE

as an arranged marriage to a woman he doesn’t want looms over him, gojo satoru resolves to seize control of his destiny by marrying the very first woman he sees—a disgraced aristocrat from an enemy family who happens to be mute. as political ties unravel, will this ruse succeed or ultimately cost him his life? 

warnings: mentions of injuries, war, captives, mentions of alcohol, o/ral s/ex, mentions of death, misogyny, forced marriage, p/rostitution, MDNI

masterlist 🧵 playlist

Gojo Satoru was a Lord not in need of a wife.

Arrogant and hubristic, he led life as a fool—simple, filled with pleasure and lacking no responsibility.

As such, brothels, handmaids and ruining aristocratic ladies were all his favorite pastimes. 

In this very moment, his vices were no different. 

The scion to the Gojo clan, a man with white hair and cerulean blue eyes the exact hue of the sea from which his family’s sustenance derives from, flickered them onto the woman poised between his thighs. 

She was a whore or some other, hired for pleasure and a respite from the thoughts whirling in his mind. He barely paid her lewd suckling and theatric moans any mind, sensing that it was done with the intent to gleam a bigger tip by the end of the night.

Rather, he sank back into the paltry futon, gaze towards the ceiling while she tongued his balls.

A question bubbled in the back of his mind, tiptoeing to the edge of his tongue where he exhales it with little fanfare. 

“Do you believe in true love?”

The woman paused, and he almost laughed at the glimmer of uncertainty coruscating in her gaze. “I beg your pardon, my Lord?”

He recognized that barely-there look on her face, that one sliver of determination mingling with the throes of forced lust she made herself believe she carried for him, if not to ease her suffering for one night.

“I asked if you believed in true love?”

A beat of silence that was louder than the schlicking of her mouth bobbing up and down his length. He discovers a second too late that she wasn’t as pretty as the lighting made her out to be and waves her away. Recognizing that she was being dismissed, the whore stands and tightens her obi, bowing low to him.

“Shall I anticipate you for next week as well, Master Gojo?”

Reverent and demure. He senses it was not due to his status but the clanking of coins in his pouch which caught her attention like the darting of silverfish in a foggy lake. He removes a golden piece and tosses it to her, narrowly missing her eye as she scrambles to catch it clumsily with both hands.

“Same time,” he drawls and stands up, making himself decent once more. The whore bows low and he pulls back the den’s curtain, making his way to the front. He does not have to wander far to encounter the stench of disapproval that mingles with the heady curls of opium smoke in the air.

Right at the door, wearing a frown that gleamed as brightly as his ebony robes, was his right-hand man.

Geto Suguru eyes him with open disdain and Satoru grins, raising his hands in mock surrender. “You found me, Sugu.” Not appreciating his tone or the abbreviation of his name, Suguru snorted and motioned towards the front door.

“This is the last time I am saving you behind from your councilmen, Satoru,” he starts on his churlish tirade, one that the young lord had heard many, many times. “The gathering is in full swing. What will people say when their great Lord is missing?”

Satoru’s snort pierced through a drizzle that clung to the tips of his brilliant white locks. “Now you sound exactly like General Nanami, Sugu.” At the mention of the stoic, aloof, and often unsmiling samurai who had retired from his life of serving the Gojo clan to live safely in the hills, Suguru physically bristled.

“At least Nanami was paid to handle your foolish ass.” Geto sighs, pinching his brow with his thumb and forefinger. “Come on. Let us go or else we will be late.”

Satoru strides to his great white steed, hauling himself over the stallion’s back. 

“Now, Sugu. You are being quite the downer tonight.”

Suguru sighs. “I cannot help it. Tonight is when the great Lord Kozume will sign over his district to be under the Gojo rule, is it not?” 

Despite his reckless approach to life, Satoru remains aware of his fief’s happenings, and this is an unprecedented event which marks a new chapter into his rule.

Kicking Mumu into a trot, Satoru sighs.

“Yes. And uncle will be there, too. No doubt trying to force my hand into taking a wife tonight.” 

At the mention of the great, stoic Michizane Gojo with his blustering white beard and piercing blue eyes trying to force his nephew to marry, Suguru chuckles.

“If there’s one thing your uncle is, it is consistent.”

“And annoying,” Satoru quips, already wishing he had not stopped that whore from making him cum. Maybe he would feel more relaxed by now. 

His mind drifts, and he recalls everything that has happened to make today one for the history annals.

A messenger stumbles in, covered head to toe in blood. 

He’s unannounced, and Gojo has his katana out, ready for the first sign of danger and betrayal from any man. 

But, the grisly older warrior does not flourish his sword; he sinks to his knees, holding his bleeding abdomen and a crumpled piece of paper in his trembling hand. 

“My Lord,” he gasps and flourishes the scroll for his liege to take it. 

Gojo immediately stands, any trace of his defensiveness melting off like frost when he unravels the scroll with shaky hands. His eyes widened. The enemy camps from beyond his threshold suddenly become like toys in his hands; easy to grasp and smash. 

“They have surrendered,” he breathes out. The messenger curls his forehead to the floor, nearly sobbing. 

“Long live your rule, Gojo-sama,” he tolls, loudly enough for his generals to come rushing into his war camp. Suguru is the first to grab the scroll from Satoru’s hand, and he too, is rendered silent from the sudden shift in their fates.

“Unbelievable,” the dark-haired general swears. 

His second peers over the Lord’s great shoulders and gasps. 

“Nagamachi has fallen,” Satoru announces through trembling lips. He turns to his men, his most loyal followers and who never once doubted his ability to expand the Gojo empire.

“We can all go home.”

Puddles of liquor and puke scatter on the tatami floors, and Satoru wrinkles his nose in disgust when he approaches the dais.

The men of his army could celebrate as well as they held a fight; brazenly crying out his name in exuberance and clinking their sake glasses together. 

To Satoru! They cried. May his reign be ever long and prosperous! 

Gojo takes his position on the dais, and reclines, accepting a cup of sake from one of his generals. 

The man wears a smile so big, Gojo wonders how it doesn’t split his face.

“Your uncle is not yet here,” Suguru informs, taking a seat next to him and picking up a cup of the sweet, fermented alcohol to sip on. The fumes burn his nose and he frowns, not liking the taste. 

Suguru has always been the more uptight between the two of them; where Satoru indulges, his friend restrains. Satoru reacts, Suguru observes. 

Tonight, Suguru is his eyes and ears, peeling his attention around the room. Though merry men were no threat, the danger has not yet subsided. 

These Nagamachi warriors could turn on them anytime; the frail peace treaty ending in blood. 

Satoru leans back, and pretends to look interested in this turn of events. However, the second he hears the drums announcing his uncle’s arrival, he straightens.

Michizane Gojo is a man with a love for theatrics. His torture methods insane, his court a fester of troublemakers and violent men. Though he disagrees with his uncle’s rule, he cannot overturn it—Michizane holds an army of men three times his own and could destroy his part of the fief with a flick of his finger.

Tall, and with an imposing air that would make the harshest samurai tremble, Michizane strides into the drawing room.  And he is not alone. 

Head down, hand in cuffs and trudging behind him, the leader of the Nagamachi warriors wears a blackened eye and bruised cheeks. The gathering is free of women and children, so the men could indulge in cruelty till the morning sun rose. However, a slighter figure behind the man catches his eye, and Gojo feels a curdling disgust rising inside of his chest.

Gojo understands that in this world of wars and conquering, one has to respect whoever is at the top. But, if it were not for the fact that this man was his uncle, Satoru would have ordered his men to drag him out, respect for the elderly be damned.

Because there is nothing respectable about what he sees right in front of him now. 

A young lady with her wrists bound follows behind the man, and unlike the other captive, her head is high, features turned obstinately to the light so every man could witness her disdain. She’s the sole woman here in this room, and the sight of her rouses every man—bloodhounds seeking to tear an injured bird apart.

Satoru stands and feels Geto stiffening beside him.

“Monster,” his friend whispers under his breath. Gojo has to agree.

The woman is shoved to her knees while the men remain standing. Her yukata, once a sign of her wealth and prosperity, is torn and with mud at the hem. If he looks closer, he can see her clenching her trembling hands, turning them to fists in front of her.

“Nephew,” Michizane stretches out his arms and Gojo reluctantly steps forward, receiving his uncle with a tight hug. “You are alive and have conquered the mountains. How proud I am of you.”

Gojo grits his teeth, finding the smell of opium and sake wafting off his uncle repulsive. 

Masking on a smile, he nods. “Thank you, uncle. Your support means everything to me under these circumstances.”

Standing at close to six feet, the old, wizened man was no different from his whorehound of a brother—Satoru’s father. Women of all ages were not exempted from his list of atrocious taste, lending to his fearsome reputation. 

Michizane bellows a laugh and gestures to the captives. “Why, I had a great time speaking to Lord Kozume. Or, shall I call him Kozume from now on.” Laughing at his own joke, the rest of the room chuckles, taking a leaf from his exuberance. Following suit, Gojo exhales a small laugh. 

“It seems you have done so, uncle.”

The great lord slaps a hand to his fat belly, chuckling to himself. “Well, what shall it be tonight? An execution? A wedding? A fight?” 

Always prepared for the worst, Gojo tries to steer the situation back into safer waters. There will be no more bloodshed for the foreseeable future; he was done smelling like the rusted tang for days on end. 

“Perhaps, a discussion,” he entreats. His uncle snorts, but indulges in his nephew’s whims, signalling for his men to cut through the ropes binding Lord Kozume and the woman. She curls into a ball the second her hands are free, forehead pressed to the floor, begging for mercy.

Kozume is far more prouder than her, and sits rigid, shaking his head when a cup is offered to him.

“No. I wish to be level-headed.” His voice is deep and low; commanding yet kind. The voice of a leader. 

Gojo blinks and remembers Suguru is beside him. He gestures to the girl and his general needs no more cues. Going to her side, Geto snaps his fingers for a cup of water and receives it from a servant; pushes it into her quivering hands. She straightens, and it disturbs him how red-rimmed her eyes are, and yet, she sheds no tears. 

Kozume does not wait for his cue. He continues. “The Nagamachi lands are yours. The fiefs are now part of the great Gojo house and I humbly ask you to spare the lives of my daughter and mine.” 

Satoru slides his gaze to the girl again. 

The old man winces, as if he’s in pain, and reaches for his daughter, grabbing her by the shoulders. This close, Gojo can see the fear in her eyes, how the corners of her lips tremble. 

By no means was he a naive man to the horrors of war, but he never had to witness an innocent’s expression up close. Satoru almost feels like the walls are closing in on him, and he tries to look away. But, something about her draws his attention back and back again—like a red splash of paint on a white cloth he cannot possibly ignore.

“Fine,” Michizane seats himself on the dais, looking down on the father and daughter. “Let us resume our discussion now with the eyes of every Gojo ancestor looking down upon us.”

At his words, the girl glances up, gazing upon the tapestries depicting the heroes of his boyhood, splashing across the ceiling as they continue on their bloody conquest to raise the emperor’s mark across the southern lands. She sees the blood, the mangled bodies, and drops her gaze; too close to the truth for comfort.

“My nephew, Satoru, as you know, is the head of the Gojo clan after his father’s death two years ago. He is in need of a wife and I have picked one out for him. The great Lady Ayako from a noble family under our flag.” Michizane glances at the girl. “Though you promised me your daughter is fair of face and from great blood, that blood now comes at a cost and I will not be at peace if she is under our roof. Hence, I have decided to wed her off to Lieutenant Luaya, who is one of the most fiercely loyal men I know.”

Gojo has to stop himself from physically recoiling. Luaya is a brute and a devil. He catches sight of the mentioned man puffing his chest out, looking pleased to be bestowed a blessing by the great Lord Michizane. She will never survive a night with him, Satoru thinks. In fact, none of his wives had ever survived for long.

His uncle was sending her right to her early grave. 

As if sensing the change in the room, the young woman raises her head, and sees Luaya who’s smiling at her; the glint of his canine teeth bouncing off the light from the sconces overhead reminds him of a wolf scenting fresh meat.

Satoru does not know what overcomes him—he is barely a kind or empathetic man. But, the punishment for Lord Kozume’s rebellion is far too much. 

He would have to watch by the sidelines as his daughter gets murdered in cold blood and that is no fair compensation for a man who readily surrendered to their forces. This inhumane treatment of their subjects had to come to a stop—Gojo would no longer stand for such cruelty his father and uncle perpetuated.

“Luaya will do no such thing.” Every eye in the room is on him as Satoru stands, crossing his arms right in front of him. The cup of sake hovering close to his uncle’s lips stops in mid-motion.

Whatever trick Michizane expects his nephew to pull, it was not this. 

“I shall wed her—Lord Kozume’s daughter.”

Those piercing blue eyes land right on your shocked face, unwavering and resolute. 

“We will be wed tonight.”

a/n: 👀 i hope u guys loved this new revamp of entangled !! it came to me as inspo from my recent trip to kyoto and i had to continue the bewitched universe for my sanity's sake lol

also if u didn't know, this series was previously discontinued due to low interaction and feedback, so if u want to see how gojo and y/n's story play out, please do consider dropping some feedback or a reblog to help keep the inspo going <3

©️lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own. do not take elements from my story without prior permission.

[mreowsu]

woke up to a multitude of notifs from the previous one, it appears to have been well-recieved. in return, here is a thank you from me :)

DRABBLES, ONESHOTS / itoshi sae x fem!reader

part one

It didn't take long for friends and family back home to hear of you and Sae's rendezvous in España, and boy are they not happy.

cw my writing. both are 14-15. profanities. itoshi rin appearance yay. fluff

wc 4.1k

The ride back to the academy dorms was uneventful, save for the occasional celebratory chatter from the boys' team. You had tagged along on their bus after the match—what? Belonging to the female Re Al team, how could they possibly refuse their up and coming female striker?

Seated a few rows ahead of you, Sae kept his usual quiet, earbuds in and his focus elsewhere.

Your phone buzzed relentlessly in your pocket. Notifications piled up, missed calls and texts flashing one after another. You tried to ignore it, brushing it off as hopefully post-game excitement and congratulatory messages to be passed to Sae for those that couldn’t reach him. But once the bus pulled into the academy grounds, the increasing persistence became impossible to overlook.

Everyone got off the bus, leaving you and Sae to walking side-by-side homeward to the dorms. Sae barely spared you a glance as you sighed and pulled your phone out, scrolling through the chaos. The screen lit up with an endless flood of notifications—mentions, retweets, likes—your feed practically bursting at the seams.

It didn’t take long for the stunt you pulled to spread like wildfire. With cameras and the media stationed all over the stadium, both you and him in your little world had been immortalized from all possible perspectives.

X (or twt?) was most especially on fire.

“Did y’all see the way she just touched his hair? 😭” “Japan’s prodigies or Spain’s new power couple?” “The power she holds. I’m in shambles. Goodbye.” “#Hair goalz” “Sae is so real, I mean, if I were to be sweating with people watching, I’d want to look my best” “I dunno if I wanna be him or her” “Guys, may I remind you all that these are 14 year olds??”—

You scrolled further, only to be greeted by memes that sent a fresh wave of horror washing over you. Screenshots of Sae’s faintly pink ears were captioned with things like, “Bros blush is heard around the world” and “BREAKING NEWS: Japan’s prodigy caught slipping.”

Your personal favorite (if you could call it that) was a photo of you brushing back his bangs, captioned:

“Y/N L/N, certified hairdresser for future world cup winner LMFAOOOO”

“Ugh,” you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Why do they have to make memes out of everything?”

Sae’s gaze flicked to your phone for a second before he returned his attention to the road ahead. “You’re surprised?”

You sighed, shoving the phone into your pocket. “No, but I can’t believe they got that angle.”

“They got every angle,” Sae replied dryly, his tone as flat as ever.

Your steps slowed as you neared the dorms. You pulled out your phone again, scrolling through the messages until you found one that made your blood run cold.

You paled.

Among the sea of notifications was one from your mother. Her text was simple yet loaded:

Mom: “Call me. Now.”

All thoughts of internet chaos evaporated as you stared at your mother’s menacing message. The bold lettering glared ominously at you through the screen, carrying more weight than it had any right to.

You groaned, slumping against Sae’s side with all the subtlety of a boulder rolling downhill. His body stiffened at the sudden contact, and his eyes darted toward you, a flicker of annoyance crossing his usually impassive face.

How had she even managed to make two words sound so menacing? “How did she even make it bold?” you muttered under your breath, staring at the text like it might explain itself. You held the phone up for emphasis, and for your companion to see. “Where did she get the bold font? Why is it in bold?” You cried.

He sighed, his lips pressed into a thin line of annoyance. “Maybe she just wants you to call her.”

“No kidding, genius,” you shot back, glaring at him for his unhelpfulness. “But it’s scary when it’s in the bold font.”

Sae rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath about your overreaction before leaning just far enough to escape your weight. “Just call her already.”

You groaned again, dragging yourself upright and glaring at your phone one last time. “If I don’t survive this call, tell her it was because of the bold font.”

Sae’s expression didn’t budge, but you caught the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes. “I’ll send flowers to your funeral.”

You shot him a glare, “very funny.”

Resigning yourself to your fate, you tapped the call button and braced for impact. The line barely rang twice before your mother’s voice burst through.

“You’re too young for this nonsense!” she started, her tone a mix of exasperation and concern. “You went to Spain to play football, not to… to… canoodle!! Do you know how many relatives have called me asking what’s going on between the two of you?!”

You couldn’t hold back a laugh at her tone, though you quickly tried to stifle it, but upon realizing what she just said, your face heated up.

“It wasn’t like that!” you protested.

“Then why does it look like that?!” she snapped back.

You groaned, running a hand down your face. “It’s just the media blowing things out of proportion. Sae and I are just friends.”

Friends. The word tasted bitter, foreign, almost hollow when it came to you. But were you guys really? It didn't quite fit the shape of what your relationship had become. It didn’t feel right—not with the way he always lingered just a little too long by your side, or the way your heart skipped at his smallest actions. Hearing the word friends, Sae would be lying if he said he didn't so much as feel an undeniable pang in his chest.

Neither of you said anything more, or lack-thereof, though. The moment passed like a fleeting shadow.

“Good,” she said, but her tone didn’t soften. “Now go find him. He’s not getting out of this.”

“MOM!” you exclaimed, your voice shooting up an octave in sheer disbelief.

“You’re in it together. If you’re getting scolded, so is he. That’s how teamwork works.”

“I don’t think that’s how teamwork works.”

“Don’t argue with me,” she snapped through gritted teeth. “Go find him. Now.”

You stared at your phone, utterly baffled, before slumping with an exasperated groan. “How does she do that?” you muttered.

Sae, who had been observing your side of the conversation with mild interest, raised an eyebrow when you lowered the phone.

“Well?” he asked, his voice calm but laced with curiosity. “Do what?”

“She sounds bold-lettered again,” you complained, gesturing dramatically at the phone. “Like, how does she make it sound like that? Bold and threatening all at once? Is this a skill all mothers have?”

“Maybe you should just listen to her,” Sae deadpanned.

You glared at him, jabbing a finger in his direction. “She wants—”

Just then, the unthinkable happened. Your mother, seemingly defying all odds and cellphones, suddenly went on speaker without warning, her voice ringing out loud and clear.

“I can hear him, let me talk to him now!” She demanded, the exclamation marks practically visible in her tone. “NOW!”

“—to yell at you too.”

You froze, and he blinked, looking at the device in your hand, utterly unfazed. “You know,” Sae began, his voice dripping with sarcastic sweetness, “I think this is a good time for me to leave.”

You turned to glare at him, pulling him back toward you with a surprising amount of force, making him stumble slightly.

“Get back here!” you hissed, your hand still gripping his arm as he tried to step away. “You’re not leaving me to face her alone!”

Sae, who had been halfway through his dorm, sighed. “You’re not exactly giving me much of a choice.”

But you weren’t about to let him off the hook that easily. With a determination, you pulled him back outside the room, holding the phone between the two of you as your mother’s voice filled the space.

“You both are in so much trouble!” Your mother practically shouted from the phone, her frustration evident. “I should’ve known something was going on when I saw the media coverage. I’m not having my kids make headlines for this!”

Sae, who had remained unfazed so far, leaned casually against the wall, his gaze fixed on you with an unreadable expression. “I didn’t make headlines. That’s all on you,” he teased lightly.

You blinked at him, caught off guard by his response. "What the hell do you mean? You literally walked toward me with a fucking spotlight on your head!" 

“WATCH THAT TONGUE—I’m not done with this nonsense!”

You shot him a warning look, silently begging him not to make it worse. But that only seemed to entertain him more.

“Look, I get it,” you said, speaking directly into the phone, trying to regain some control of the situation. “It’s not a big deal, okay? Like I said, it’s just the media blowing things out of proportion.”

“I don’t care about the media! I care about you two being sensible!” your mother’s voice cracked a little, clearly not impressed by your attempt to defuse the situation. “Now, Sae, you better not be leading my child astray. I want you both to keep your heads in the game.”

Without a word, you shoved the phone toward Sae, who had barely reacted to the situation. He shot you a look, you mouthed: ‘she’s talking to you’. You gestured dramatically at ‘you’. 

He stared at the device like it was an inconvenience, but eventually took it, his usual indifference in place. 

You were both just standing there, patiently, albeit strained, waiting in silence for the next round of scolding from your mother when a new, unmistakable voice entered the boxing ring somewhere in the background.

You both froze. Sae nearly dropped the phone, his grip faltering. You couldn't help but snicker at the rare look on his face. The last thing you expected was to hear that sweet but dangerously knowing voice—his mother, unmistakably. That sweet but unnerving voice was enough to snap him out of whatever bravado he'd been putting on. He looked at the phone as though it might bite him.

“Hi, Mrs. L/n, is my son on the line? I’d like to talk to him,” she said again, though the distance made it sound muffled, like she was halfway across the room.

Sae had managed to escape his parents’ wrath for a while, but that was about to change, and you couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit victorious.

His brow furrowed, unable to mask his surprise. Sae ran a hand through his hair with a resigned sigh, clearly not surprised by the turn of events. "Of course," he muttered under his breath, the weight of it all sinking in. "My family would have contacted yours the moment they caught wind of whatever the hell the two of us were doing in Spain."

You raised an eyebrow at his comment, crossing your arms with a knowing smile. "Oh, so you knew this was coming?"

He looked at you with a dry smirk. "I mean, it's not like we were exactly being subtle, huh?" he added, his usual smugness creeping back into his tone. "It wasn’t my fault you decided to get all touchy in front of the cameras."

You glared at him with all your might, but your argument died on your tongue, clearly defeated. "Unbelievable," you muttered.

The phone crackled slightly, and then his mother’s voice came through.

"Hello?"

The both of you stayed silent, catching each other's staring before you took the liberty to answer. "Hello?" you greeted, your voice slightly uncertain.

"Ah, Y/n, so sorry for the sudden intrusion," Sae’s mother chimed in, her voice full of sweetness, but you knew carried a weight behind it. Locked and loaded, reserved to open fire only at Sae. "My son is always so unpredictable… He’s not giving you any trouble, is he?"

You couldn’t help but grin. “No trouble at all, I promise.”

There was a soft chuckle on the other end, but it didn’t sound entirely convinced. “Well, I do hope he’s keeping you focused. I did hear something about hairdressers…” She trailed off, clearly referencing the media frenzy from earlier. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I trust you to take care of each other.”

You blinked in surprise. The sudden shift from the playful teasing to genuine concern caught you off guard, but you did your best to play it cool. “We’re doing fine, really.”

“I’m sure you are, darling,” she continued, her voice warm, but there was an undeniable edge to it. “Just remember to keep your heads in the game. I want you both succeeding, not making headlines for nonsense.”

You glanced at Sae, who was clearly pretending not to listen. “Don’t worry, we’re focusing on football,” you reassured, a soft smile pulling at your lips.

“Well, that’s all I wanted to hear,” she said, her tone finally lightening up. "From you, atleast."

You raised an eyebrow at her words, catching the subtle jab aimed at Sae. You could feel his irritation radiating off him, though his face betrayed nothing more than a slight twitch of his brow. Smirking, you mouthed; 'you’re not off the hook yet.'

Then her voice came through the speaker again, calm but firm. “Now, darling, be a dear and hand the phone over to Sae. I’d like a word with my son.”

Your grin widened. “Of course,” you said sweetly, holding the phone out to him. “It’s for you.”

Sae sighed, his shoulders stiffening slightly. “Tell her I’m not here,” he muttered.

“Pretty sure she already knows you are,” you replied, shaking the phone for emphasis. “No escaping this one, superstar.”

He shot you one last glare. "You’re not gonna let me forget this, are you?"

“Not a chance,” you replied, your grin widening as he took the phone from your hands. “But hey, at least now we know what happens when you get too cocky.”

Sae let out an exaggerated sigh, clearly resigned to all this. His usual deflection didn’t work as well this time.

He lifted the phone to his ear, "Hi, Mom." He muttered, trying his best to sound nonchalant, but his posture had stiffened. He wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Don’t you “Hi, Mom” me, ITOSHI SAE!” his mother’s voice finally snapped. “What’s this nonsense I’m hearing about you two? Running around Spain causing a spectacle for the media, playing to their little games!?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking your head slightly. “So she’s got the bold font superpower too, huh?” you muttered mostly to yourself, but loud enough for also him to hear. The sheer power of that 'ITOSHI SAE' was like a force of nature.

His teal eyes hardened, shooting you a glare, his discomfort obvious, but you could tell he wasn’t used to this level of public embarrassment. His mother had always been a force to be reckoned with, but now she was using her bold-letter power on him too. “It’s not like that,” he started, his voice dry and flat. “We’re just—”

“No excuses, Sae. I’ve seen the footage. I’ve heard the rumors. You’re not going to get away with this one. Not while I’m around,” she interrupted, her voice unyielding.

You leaned against the doorframe, biting back a laugh as his mother’s voice carried through the speaker, scolding him in rapid-fire Japanese. Sae’s expression didn’t change, though his lips pressed into a thin line.

After a few minutes, he handed the phone back to you. “She’s done,” he said flatly, though the faint pink tint to his ears gave him away.

You took the phone, grinning. “She gave you the ‘focus on football, not nonsense’ speech, didn’t she?”

“She’s very thorough,” he deadpanned.

“Welcome to my world,” you said with a shrug, bringing your phone on speaker to bid your farewells.

Your mother’s voice came through the speaker, her tone still a little sharp. “Sae, this better not happen again…”

Sae braced himself, his expression turning completely blank as he muttered a weak greeting. “Hi, Ma'am.” He visibly straightened, his usual confidence momentarily chipped away by the dual maternal interrogation.

“Sae, behave,” his mother chimed in. “And don’t get each other in trouble. I’m trusting you to be the responsible one here. You should know better.”

Your mother didn’t miss a beat, her tone taking on a teasing edge. “Exactly. Boys are supposed to protect, not cause chaos. How could you let this happen under your watch, Sae?”

You shot a glance at Sae, his face betrayed none of the usual confidence, just a tense concentration.

You bit the inside of your cheek, suppressing a grin as Sae’s blank expression barely wavered, save for the faintest furrow of his brow. His mother’s voice, now layered with a hint of amusement, added to the jab. “Honestly, Sae, I thought you were more sensible than this. I expected better from you.”

You could almost hear the corners of your mother’s mouth curve up. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m taking care of it,” she replied with a playful note. “You know how it is with these kids—they think they’re invincible.”

Despite the constant jabs, you knew Sae wasn’t the type to let anything truly reckless happen—not to you, not to himself. If anything, he was the one who kept everything grounded, often steering things back on track. Yet here he was, taking the brunt of both mothers’ wrath, enduring their playful scolding like the stoic shield he was.

Sae sighed quietly, and you nudged his arm gently. “Hey, just look at it this way—you’re their golden boy, hm?”

Sae's teal eyes rolled a sideways glance at you, his lips twitching as though he wanted to say something but thought better of it.

"Well, Y/n.." His mother trailed off. “Please make sure my son is behaving himself. He has a tendency to… push boundaries when he thinks no one’s watching.”

You blinked, startled by the sudden turn of the conversation. “Uh, I’ll do my best?” you replied hesitantly, shooting a glance at Sae, who looked thoroughly unimpressed.

“And one more thing,” she added, her voice firm but tinged with an almost playful seriousness. “Don’t let him get away with anything when it comes to you. Don’t let him have his way, understand?”

Your face flushed instantly, the implication of her words hitting you like a freight train. “W-Wait, what—”

Sae, who had been silently enduring the conversation, finally turned his head sharply toward the phone, his ears turning a suspicious shade of pink. “Mom.” He interjected, his tone low and warning.

But his mother was undeterred. “Oh, don’t ‘Mom’ me, Sae! I mean it." Then, his mother released a sigh. “It’s just.. the two of you are out there in Spain... no one else can keep an eye on you. Be rational, okay? Don’t give us a reason to fly over there and check on you myself.”

You couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, despite the heat still burning your cheeks. “Noted, Mrs. Itoshi. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Sae groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Are you done?”

“For now,” she replied smoothly. “I’m just making sure things are in order. Y/n, thank you for putting up with him. You’re a saint.”

Sae muttered something under his breath, “unbelievable.”

You snorted. “Of course, Mrs. Itoshi. Someone's gotta bash him in his head from time to time.”

Even with his mom’s playful but pointed implication, you knew better. Sae would never do anything out of line with you, nor anything that would make you uncomfortable. For all his aloofness and sharp edges, he’d always been careful around you—attentive in his own way.

The thought softened the embarrassment lingering in your chest, and you glanced at him, his hand still dragging down his face as he muttered under his breath despite his irritation.

“But don’t think I won’t call again if I hear more nonsense.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle under your breath at the thought, but the tension didn’t seem to break on Sae’s side. He eventually muttered, “We'll do our best, Mom, Mrs. L/n.”

“Good,” Sae’s mom said firmly, a slight note of relief in her voice. There was a faint shuffling sound on the other end, like the phone being passed, until your mother’s voice entered the conversation. “I trust you’ll both be on your best behavior.”

You chimed in quickly, trying to get the conversation over with. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Itoshi, Mom. We’ll keep things in check.”

Your mother let out a hum of approval. “Good. And remember, we’re just a call away if you need a reminder.”

“Duly noted,” you replied with a nervous laugh, glancing at Sae.

With that, the call ended, leaving you standing there, Sae released an exasperated sigh and immediately dropped his shoulders in relief. You couldn’t help but laugh.

Sae shook his head, stepping back into his room. “Next time, leave me out of it.”

You smiled. Despite the scolding and the embarrassment, there was something undeniably comforting about moments like these—a reminder of home, even when you were miles away.

You were about to turn and leave when something inside you decided it wasn’t time to bail just yet. You stepped forward, casually walking right past Sae into his room before the door could fully shut behind him.

Sae froze, slitted eyes widening in surprise. “What—”

You shrugged again, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. “No reason. Just hanging around.”

Before he could protest, a sudden ring cut through the air. The sound was familiar, but louder than usual. You glanced at Sae, eyebrow raised, but his face shifted quickly from surprise to annoyance as he grabbed his phone.

“Who’s calling you now?” you asked, leaning back against his desk as he answered the phone.

At first, Sae’s face was unreadable, but then his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You could hear his voice, but just barely. You noticed and gave a slight smirk. “Guess it’s your turn for Rin’s wrath.”

Rin. The name was almost like a curse for Sae—he loved his brother, of course, but when it came to their sibling dynamics, it was always a bit chaotic.

You couldn’t help but lean in, curiosity piqued. Expecting his mom to be back on the line, you were caught off guard when Sae’s little brother spoke up from the other end.

“Hey, nii-chan,” Rin’s voice sounded loud and clear, filled with that usual mix of child-like wonder and boyish innocence. “I’m hearing things from the media again... What’s going on with you and Y/n? You two are seriously causing a stir.”

Sae’s face flushed even more, a mix of frustration and, if you were reading him right, embarrassment.

“You’re already hearing about that, huh?” he muttered, rubbing his temples.

“Of course I am!” Rin responded, completely unbothered by his brother’s apparent discomfort. “But seriously, are you two that close now? Should I be worried?”

You almost snorted at the lighthearted tone in Rin’s voice. It was all teasing, but there was an undertone of real curiosity—or maybe just a little bit of jealousy? You couldn’t help but smirk at how Rin always found ways to poke fun at Sae, no matter how far apart they were.

Sae didn’t answer right away, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment as he sighed. “Just... keep your nose out of this, Rin.”

You snickered at his reaction, walking closer and casually sitting down on Sae’s bed, still enjoying his discomfort. You decided to butt in, taking hold of his phone.

“Hey, Rin—”

“Y/n! What in the world are you two doing over there?” Rin’s voice came through sharp.

“Uh, playing football?” you tried, his sudden change in tone was something you weren’t expecting, but has anything ever went your way ever for the past day?

“You know what I mean,” he whined. “I can’t go five minutes without seeing some clip of you two looking… weird! People are saying stuff!”

You leaned back against the headboard, glancing at Sae, who had now propped himself up on one elbow on his desk, silently listening. “Rin, it’s nothing. The media’s just exaggerating.”

“Oh, really? Because it doesn’t look like ‘nothing’ when she’s running her hands through your hair, Sae,” Rin shot, his voice cracking slightly at the end.

Sae, finally engaging, sat up and snatched his phone from your hand, holding it to his ear. “What’s your problem, Rin?” he asked bluntly.

“My problem?” Rin’s voice grew louder. “My problem is that you two are over there acting all… close, while I’m stuck here dealing with everything alone!”

Silence stretched between them.

Finally, Sae sighed. “You’re being dramatic. It’s not like we’re having fun. We’re working, just like you.”

“You don’t get it,” Rin muttered, his voice quieter now. “You both left. And it’s… it’s hard seeing you two together there. Without me.”

Your chest ached at his words. Taking the phone back, you softened your tone. “Rin, we miss you, too. It’s hard for us here, you know that. But we’ll come back—this isn’t forever.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, though it sounded half-hearted. “Just… stop making headlines, okay? It’s embarrassing.”

You laughed, and even Sae’s lips twitched upward. “No promises,” you teased, earning a low groan from Rin before he hung up.

As you set the phone aside, Sae leaned back against his desk-chair, arms crossed. “He’s such a pain,” he muttered, though there was a faint fondness in his voice.

“Yeah,” you agreed softly. “But he’s our pain.”

“Whatever, I want you out of my room before dinner time. I have to take a shower.”

“Bleh!”

“💢💢💢”

* * *

© 2024 mreowsu

[rcmclachlan]

okay, so if you’re not writing the aquarium scene in the 118/217 scheming fix-it (god i love this) can you at least share what mishap and or shenanigan gets them banned from the aquarium?? (since you mentioned it in the tags i assume you picked one!)

The aquarium is Christopher's idea, because getting Buck and Tommy back together is the one thing he and Eddie can talk about without it devolving into shouting or week-long silences that make Eddie want to put his fist through his living room wall.

So if plotting to interfere in the open bear trap that is his idiot friends' breakup gets him an hour of uninterrupted screen time with Chris three times a week? He'll meddle in a way that would make even his abuela say, "cariño, that's a little much." He'll change his legal middle name to el metiche.

"Buck used to take me to see the otters when I was younger; they're his favorite. But the exhibit has been closed for a year because they've been redoing it," Chris says, then texts him a link to the aquarium website. "The big reopening is next week. If someone asked Buck to take Jee-Yun, he wouldn't be suspicious."

"Chris, you're a genius," Eddie says, a little awed. His entire body aches to reach through the laptop screen and across state lines to pull his kid into a hug, but all he can do is sit on his hands and hope his face shows all the love he feels.

A small, but genuine grin unfurls on Chris's face. "That's not news, dad."

Eddie decides to take the aquarium idea to what Chimney keeps calling the weekly 118-217 Shadow Summit to see if the rest of the group thinks it holds water—no pun intended—and is extremely offended when Dana gives him a slow blink and says, "That's actually not bad. Who came up with it?"

"Is it that hard to believe it was my idea?"

"Very."

Dana presses the rim of her wine glass to the sly, crimson curve of her mouth. With her victory rolls, winged eyeliner, and tattoos, she looks like the winner of a car show pinup contest. She also looks like an evil queen out of an old school Disney movie. At least five people in their general vicinity look like they'd thank her if she force-fed them a poisoned apple or turned into a giant dragon.

Eddie reaches into the bowl of popcorn by his elbow and throws a handful of it at her. She just takes a sip of her wine and serenely lets the kernels bounce off her.

"Knock it off before I put you both in a time out." Lucy drains the dregs of her beer and says to Chimney, "Having Buckley take your kid is the perfect excuse—she's, what, two? Three?"

"Five," Chim says with the heartache of a man whose baby is almost old enough to rent a car. "As long as we don't tell my wife that Jee's playing the part of the cutest MacGuffin ever in this little plot, we should be good. But how do we get Tommy there?"

"Short of planting a bomb in the penguin tank, I can't think of a reason Mr. Nature Boy himself would ever voluntarily go." Hen roots around in the popcorn bowl for the kernels with the most butter. "Actually, he might be thrilled if we did that. I don't think he likes birds very much."

Dana lifts a brow. "I smell a story."

"Does it smell like KFC?" Chim pops a pretzel in his mouth and chews loudly, grinning. "Once we've adjourned the cabal for the evening, remind me to tell you about Maurice."

Eddie doesn't know Nico very well—he can't get a read on the guy to save his life—but the smug smirk he's sporting looks entirely out of place. Nico takes the last mozzarella stick off the platter they'd ordered to share and puts it between his teeth like a cigar. He looks like the world's lamest oil baron.

Eddie looks at Dana in askance. Wordlessly, she plucks a piece of popcorn out of her hair and throws it at him. It nails him right between the eyes.

"Let me handle Kinard," Nico says. "I'll get him there, no problem."

To his credit, Nico does get Tommy to the aquarium the day of the sea otter exhibit grand reopening. And thanks to Chimney planting Chris's idea in Buck's head at the start of their next shift, Buck does take Jee-Yun.

Unfortunately, their paths never cross, because while the penguin habitat doesn't explode, the sea jelly gallery does, completely flooding the first floor. When the aquarium is forced to evacuate everyone, Buck and Jee-Yun end up at the Chili's down the street, while Tommy ends up riding in an ambulance with an old woman who gets stung by a box jellyfish.

"I don't understand how this happened!" Lucy shouts, keeping her fingers on the ankle pulse of a man in the middle of an allergic reaction to a lilliputian jelly sting as Hen and Chim pump him full of epinephrine and then start administering compressions.

Eddie would help, but he's carrying three kids—two in his arms, one on his back—through shin-deep water to safety while attempting to dodge all the bluebottles floating on the surface. Dana glides past him to get the next group of kids waiting to be rescued, not a hair out of place. She looks like a fucking mermaid. He's gonna trip her the next time they pass each other.

Annoyed, Lucy casts around and then asks, "Has anyone seen Nico?"

Just in time for the man himself to sedately walk through the pandemonium, two bewildered penguins tucked under his arms like purses. He smiles brightly. "Hey, did Kinard pass through here, by any chance? Phase two of my plan is ready to go."

Eddie stares at him. "What was phase one?"

He never does find out what exactly phase one entailed, but it's enough to get them permanently banned from the aquarium for life.

"If you ask me, the punishment so does not fit the crime," Nico says, digging an elbow into Eddie's side as he jostles for room in the back of Athena's squad car.

Eddie says nothing. He's too busy mentally composing the short-answer portion of his application for the El Paso Fire Department, although, in the end, it doesn't matter. He completely forgets everything he plans on writing when Athena slides in, glances in the rearview mirror, and shouts, "Those better not be penguins in my back seat, Edmundo Diaz!"

He and Chris spend two hours talking about it during their next call, so Eddie calls it a win.

[envy-of-the-apple]

Okay,, you have to let us know are the eggs any characters Specifically like megumi or itadori? I bet they would be clingy mommas boys.

Love you crumbs you give us and happy late birthday 🫶🏻

awww ty bestie okay okay okay holdonholdon

You'd name the hatchlings. Idk if I mentioned this or not but in the excerpt, the reader names Suguru and Satoru cuz they didn't have a concept of language yet. I think once they had a general concept of human language, they'd use their human names for each other just like you do.

When Nobara, Yuji and Megumi hatch, they'd definitely hang onto you the most. It's mostly because you are the most caring out of the throuple you were forced into. It makes sense for you to care about them, right? After all, human babies are pretty helpless and that's how far your knowledge extends. And they're adorable, with big round eyes, making cute little chitters. You get a tiny bit protective of them, especially considering the other two nagas don't carry the same sentiment. Suguru is clearly a believer of tough love and you've caught Satoru trying to put one of the eggs in his mouth (you're pretty sure he was joking...but you arent risking it when they're this tiny). They're small right now, but naga hatchlings grow up fast. They're practically your height in just a couple of years.

I feel personally, Yuji would be the (most outwardly) clingiest. He's affectionate, more dog than snake, sometimes. He's the largest of his siblings. When he was smaller, his favorite thing to do was wrap himself around your shoulders and you'd carry him around. He can't do that now, but he has other ways of spending time with you. He 'hunts' with you the most, assisting you with collecting berries and fruit. Apart from you, he'd bond with Satoru more. They share a similar personality, both are easily amused.

Megumi would be the shyest, but he loves you just as much as his siblings do. Much like his fathers, he enjoys the warmth you provide and would love cuddling with you in the languid hours of the evening. He doesn't do that much when he's older, but he's still interested in spending time with you! He likes quality time, the most. Eventually, during your time on the island, you'd have set up a tiny garden. He'd help with that. He and Suguru would have lots of similarities, so you'd often catch them together. They'd both help with your garden, helping cultivate the seeds and soil. It's not natural for them, but they understand you're different from nagafolk

But I think Nobara would be the one you're the closest to. She hatched the first. She's also different from her brothers. Again, in the naga species, the females become something akin to sirens. Slowly, you'd notice how different she is compared to her brothers, how much she enjoys the water, how dry her skin gets when she stays on land for too long. She'd evolve differently. Webbed hands, her tail would be more lithe, finned.

Because she's so different, Satoru and Suguru don't have much of an interest in her. Again, much like reptiles, nagas are fairly independent at a young age. Satoru and Suguru allow the hatchlings to stick around because you'd pitch a fit otherwise and they try to keep their mate happy. Once it becomes clear Nobara is aquatically gifted, you'd be terrified of the thought of her being out alone at sea, so you'd often go out with her, not caring how pruny your fingers get. Because of how much time you spend with her, I think she'd be the most interested in humans. She'd ask you about human culture, human customs. Every once in a while, she'd go out and collect remnants of humanity, clothes, trinkets, jewelry, anything she can find off the ocean floor. She'd sit on the rocky shore, holding out each one, demanding you to explain them to her.

You wouldn't dare mention how much you fear her fathers, but I feel Nobara would be the first to realize that you don't want to be here. She can see it in your eyes, the longing whenever you're explaining another human trinket. She wants you to be happy, but if you go back to the humans....would you still have time for her? Would you still braid her hair? Take care of her? Love her?

In the end, Nobara is the most similar to her fathers. She'd keep you on the island too.

ughhhhhh i should just write that chaptered naga fic already this is getting ridiculous.

[thatrandomidiot182]

I'm not great at writing full stories, so if someone wants to take this idea and turn it into a whole fic pls do so. Also, pls pls pls tag me. I'd love to read it!!

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

SO, thinking of Velaryon! Reader who is...

The youngest daughter of Rhaenys and Corlys, born around the same time as Jace and Aemond.

Her egg never hatched in the cradle, so it was assumed that she would succeed Corlys as the next Sea Snake and become the Lady of the Tides, seeing as Laenor would become King Consort and Leana was now a Princess.

However, some other factors that need to be taken into account are;

King Viserys sees the birth of a daughter so close to the birth of the two boys as a sign, another reason to further unite the two great houses (especially after the rumors surrounding the dark-haired grandson of his) so he proposes another marriage. This time, the girl is to be raised amongst both boys and allowed to choose between them once they all come of age.

(The reason I didn't mention Baela is bc Viserys atp wouldn't be that into marrying his line into Daemons line lol.)

Corlys is salty and refutes at first, bc look at how Rhaenyra and Laenors marriage is going, not to mention Daemon and Laena. Rhaenys, on the other hand, convinces him to agree because either way, their daughter ends up a princess, or even better, a queen.

AND

Corlys ain't into the matriarch idea.

AND

Laenor is currently his direct heir, so logically, his son would be the next Lord of Driftmark.

So, Corlys holds off on naming her heir for as long as he possibly can.

This is where things begin to go downhill...

Naturally, the three kids all grow up amongst each other, all of them being told that at one point, Reader would marry one of the boys and either rule driftmark or become queen.

This feeds into the animosity between Rhaenyra and Alicent and, in turn, Aemond and Jace.

Rhaenyra is urging Jace to bond with Reader to 'save her' from the Hightowers clutches. Not to mention how much she admires Readers' determination, will, and intelligence. She thinks Reader would be a good queen one day (I HC that she sees herself in Reader lol)

Alicent could honestly care less at the beginning, but as soon as Aemond begins making snide comments about Aegon being king, she begins to urge him to pursue Reader and become the Ruler of Driftmark. A, futile, attempt to turn his attention away from the iron throne, seeing as he always had the intention to marry Reader, with or without his mothers interference.

Both boys, therefore, form some sort of affection for Reader.

Jace is indifferent at first. He believes the reader is pretty and admires her intelligence and wit but does not particularly enjoy the thought of being forced into a marriage.

Eventually, these feelings change, and he becomes devoted. He completely adores her, as does the rest of his family. He idolizes her, worships her, and is now vying for her love and affection just as much as Aemond. He knows the moment he spoke his wish for her hand, it would be his, being the Kings favorite did have perks, but he would rather wait for her to return the feelings. He would hate nothing more than her being miserable in an arranged marriage with him.

Aemond, however, is immediately infatuated. Neither of them have dragons, so it must be fate! He always follows her around like a puppy, and they often study together. Wherever she goes, Aemond follows. Seeing as Reader spends most of her time preparing for her, inevitable, rise to power, Aemond also begins to learn the ways of the court and how royalty should behave.

As they grow and time passes, his pure childhood love and adoration festers into obsession and, much like Jace, utter devotion.

He believes that Reader belongs to him, just as he belongs to her. Why else would the gods bind them in such a way? He believes that the reason they don't have dragons is because they were meant for something greater than dragonriding! They were meant to rule, conquer the nobles, and charm the smallfolk. They were meant to bring about a new era of Targaryens, ones who were more than powerful enough without dragons.

(Yeah. He's like double the psycho he is in the show lol.)

That's how the boys feel about everything, Now let's take a glimpse into Readers mind...

Now, her whole life, Reader is constantly being told by everyone,

"You're going to be a great Sea Snake, just like your father!"

"You'll make a fine Queen one day, better than any we've had in ages, I reckon!"

"You and the Prince (either one lol) make such a handsome couple, I'm sure your children will be very blessed with looks!"

In her youth, when she's innocent and naive, (until she's abt 6) she's just confused. She's her fathers heir, isn't she? Why isn't she titled yet? Why does she have to marry one of her snot nosed nephew/cousin in order to gain one?? (As if she's also not a snot nosed brat at the time lol)

She doesn't question her parents because she trusts them, and believes that maybe she's not old enough, or trained enough, and therefore dedicated the rest of her spare time to studying, training and practicing.

And then Laena dies.

The Driftmark incident happens, but the only reason Aemond claimed Vhaegar was because Reader was trying to claim her, and he followed her and was just there for emotional support.

After Aemonds eye was cut, Reader distances herself from both boys.

She feels guilty about Aemond losing his eye.

She resents Lucerys and, by extension, Jace, as she believes it was a completely unacceptable reaction on their part.

Rhaenys and Corlys are PISSED.

"What were you thinking!?"

"You knew Rhaena was supposed to claim her!"

Reader is also big mad.

"Leana was my sister, I had just as much of a claim to Vhaegar as Rhaena!"

"Why must I be the one with nothing!? No title, no land, no dragon, NOT EVEN A SHIP!!"

Rhaenys explains that they were just waiting for the right moment, between Laenas passing and Corlys' declining health. (Excuses lol)

Aka, she's trying to convince Corlys to wait and see who Reader decides to marry before naming an heir.

Corlys, on the other hand, is fine with waiting bc being forced to choose between a bastard and a hightower as the heir to driftmark is agonizing. (He's legit considering Vaemond atp)

Anyways after that, everyone kind of splits up.

Jace goes with his mom to Dragonstone.

Reader doesn't see him again until his blood is being questioned, but does write to him after he persistently apologizes.

Reader stays at driftmark and begins to learn how to sail and command a fleet.

(The only reason Corlys agrees is bc he wants to quiet the rumors of why he hasn't named her as his heir yet.)

Aemond stays in kings landing, and the two reconcile only because he broke down and begged her not to hate him for being deformed, and she couldn't handle him thinking she'd toss him aside for that. (By letter ofc)

Then Laenor 'dies.'

Everyone is upset, distraught, mourning, you get the gist.

Reader, however upset she may or may not be, is also ecstatic.

She sees this as another chance.

A chance for her to finally get a dragon.

A chance for her to prove herself to her father and finally be named his heir!!

After all, no one else is in her way anymore... (so she thinks)

So, once again, while everyone is busy at the funeral, Reader sneaks off to claim Seasmoke.

Alone, this time.

However, that doesn't work (bc he's not dead lol) so she completely breaks down.

Everyone thinks it's bc both her siblings just died but it's actually because she feels worthless and pathetic.

Existential crisis lol.

Who comforts her? Jace.

They bond over losing Laenor, and Reader has a manic epiphany.

Maybe Aemond was right. Maybe the gods refused to give her a dragon because she was meant for greater things.

After all, Jace was a dragonrider through and through. She knows that he despises his princely duties and would be happy if he could have the title and power of the throne without the politics and mind games.

He would much rather burn and fly than rub shoulders and sign papers.

Then she starts PLOTTING.

If her parents refused to name her heir, even after Laenors death, then she would go above them.

She'd show them she was worthy. She didn't need them anymore.

She didn't want them anymore.

After all, why would she choose to be a Lady when she could be a Queen?

If she marries Jace, she has no doubt that he would allow her to handle everything. He'd be nothing more than the face and name. She'd be the one making the calls.

He'd be the axe, and she'd be the executioner.

She waits to inform everyone of her decision, though, seeing as they are in mourning, lol.

She doesn't even tell Jace, but she does become more affectionate and romantic with him.

Jace is just happy she's finally giving him attention and spending time with him (poor bby).

Aemonds too busy plotting how him and Reader are going to usurp the throne to realize she was pulling away from him. (Delulu)

Time passes, Viserys is wilting and the dance is approaching.

Readers making moves to secure her place as Jaces Queen, befriending both the smallfolk and the nobles and shadowing Otto Hightower and Larys Strong as much as possible. (Unlikely friendship lol, they're all ambitious, cunning, and know how to play the long game. Reader admires their ability to manipulate everyone to their advantage, Otto is under the impression she will be his future granddaughter in law, and Larys believes she can benefit him one way or another in the future.)

Alicent and Otto are beginning to groom Aegon to be King.

Rhaenyra marries Daemon and awaits her succession.

Corlys is severely ill and is finally about to name Reader his heir.

Then the gun goes off.

Everyone gathers in kings landing at Vaemonds behest to discuss the legitimacy of Jace and Luke.

(Vaemond and Reader do not get along bc they both think their the rightful heir to the Driftwood throne.)

Reader is a whole badass now. Smart, pretty, strong and manipulative AS FUCK!

She's grown to simultaneously love and despise both her nephew and cousin after everything that has happened.

Regardless, she decides that once the whole legitimacy dispute was settled, she'd announce her choice to everyone present.

That obviously doesn't happen because of Rhaenys announcing Lucerys and Jacaerys' engagements to Rhaena and Baela.

Reader is LIVID.

She's upset, furious, and feels betrayed.

Was all that talk of choice and decisions meaningless?!?

Was all her agony over choosing between the two she loved the most for nothing!?

Nonetheless, she keeps her cool, and her determination never wavers.

After all, Aegon the Conquerer had two wives. Why couldn't Jacaerys? Besides, he loves her, not Baela, he wouldnt give up on their engagement that easily.

She could deal with sharing him, seeing as Baela didn't show any interest in being a ruler at all. Her plans could still work. She just needed to adjust some things first. It might actually benefit her more.

Baela could keep Jace occupied while she did what she wanted.

Yes.

It could still work.

Then, Lucerys is named heir to driftmark.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

divider by: @bucciniexe

I still have wayy more to add to this but I'll post it tomorrow it's currently 6 am and I need to sleep lol

[frodolover]

this is something i have seen surprisingly little about, but sea-longing is a fascinating concept to me and frodo is my favorite character so i want to examine it.

sea-longing aka the unquiet of ulmo is of course what is experienced by elves when they are being called back over the sea to valinor. legolas experiences this in lotr. and sea-longing is not so much about the sea itself than it is about what awaits across it: valinor.

this obviously affects elves because they're the only ones permitted in valinor. however as we know, frodo sails there at the end of lotr, though he's not an elf, but a mortal. however i think it's very clear that frodo experiences sea-longing despite this.

in valaquenta, it's stated that ulmo loves both elves and men (of which hobbits are a branch of) and that from his horns music plays and "those to whom that music comes hear it ever after in their hearts, and longing for the sea never leaves them again." additionally, these horns are "wrought of white shell," and in "the sea-bell/frodos dreme," it states: "i walked by the sea, and there came to me, / as a star-beam on the wet sand, / a white shell like a sea-bell; / trembling it lay in my wet hand". the connection between the white shells stands out to me, as these white shells are from where ulmo's music and source of sea-longing come from. (and whether or not frodo is the author of the poem, it's undeniably about him)

now here we come to the text in lotr. in book i, chapter v, frodo's journey has barely begun, but he has a dream about the sea, and a "great desire" to see it. it's also mentioned that the sound of the sea "often" troubles his dreams, so this likely started even before this.

the second time frodo dreams is when he is in the house of tom bombadil, in book i, chapter viii (first pic). while it doesn't directly mention the sea, we know the sea and valinor are connected. this is especially notable because the dream frodo has here is shown to have come true, almost word for word, at the very end of rotk when he sails to valinor (second pic, from book vi, chapter xi).

i don't have much to say about this one, but in book ii, chapter vii, frodo actually sees the sea, rather than hearing it, for the first time in galadriel's mirror:

much later, when frodo believes the ring is lost and the quest has failed, he says this (book vi, chapter i):

"only elves can escape. away, away out of middle-earth, far away over the sea"-- i love this line especially with the knowledge that frodo does get to "escape" over the sea, like the elves. and like the elves, he is experiencing this sea-longing, this call to the undying lands already.

i think this is all very, very interesting, because it seems that frodo's fate is sealed as someone who can't exist in middle-earth anymore rather early on in his journey. the idea that elves are the only ones permitted in valinor is also interesting because, while frodo is a mortal, he is described as having an "elvish beauty" and "elvish air," he is named an elf-friend, and he has a lifelong interest and love for elves, and knows a bit of elvish. also, arwen gives frodo the evenstar as this symbol of him being able to take her place on the ship to valinor that she forfeits. his connection to the elves, and therefore to valinor, is there from the beginning.

[katiemay-025]

Unexpected

~~~~~

summary: Johanna Mason had a plan for the 71st Hunger Games but she never expected a budding relationship with one of the other tributes let alone a Career

wc: 4.4k

warnings: use of y/n, mdni, character death, angst, graphic violence, mentions of forced prostitution, swearing

~~~~~

Everything was perfectly as planned. Johanna might have had a few bruises from the stunt she pulled at the parade but other than that, everyone fully believed she was weak. Even her district partner believed it, opting to sit with the other tributes. She credited her ability to cry on cue. Johanna was now sitting alone on the training center secretly observing her competition.

That was until a girl put her tray in front of her. When Johanna looked up she was met with the eyes of a career. God she hated them, thinking they owned the place. “Hi. I’m y/n from District 4.” Johanna knew who she was, this year among the careers, she was the top of the food chain. Your brother is the one and only Capitol Darling Finnick Odair.

Johanna stayed quiet hoping the girl in front of her would hurry up and tell her what she was doing here with her. The top of the food chain with the bottom. You didn’t say anything eating her food in silence. It was annoying the district 7 tribute, so she mustered up her meekest voice. “W-why are you sitting with me?”

“My brother won when I was 11 and he would take me out to sea to fish and train. It didn’t go too well with my classmates. They said it was unfair that I got to go on all these ‘field trips’. They were jealous and their jealousy quickly became hate.” What does that have to do with me? Johanna thought. “Anyway I know what it’s like to be an outcast. It’s not fun, so seeing you alone, I didn’t want that for you.” It was like you read her mind, answering her question as soon as she asked it in her head. For the rest of lunch you asked her about her life in District 7 and playing up to the weakling she was, didn’t speak, only opting to shake or nod her head.

Still, you found out a lot. First talking about your brother and then turning the conversation to Johanna’s siblings. She didn’t know what compelled her to tell the truth about them. Nodding when you counted to 4 and then again when you got the correct number of brothers, 3, which meant you knew she had a sister. Other things like her being the middle child, her age (17) and her favorite color (Green because of the forests) were discovered.

Johanna found out about your favorite color (blue for the ocean), your most prized possession was the conch shell you found at the beach, your relationship with Finnick, how he was protective and caring under all that bravado.

After lunch, Johanna fully expected you to rejoin the careers but you didn’t. You went to the weapons station and picked up an axe, which was not in the category of your specialty weapons. ‘Stabby stabs’ as you called it. She sat in the corner hugging her knees as everyone over looked her. For good measure, Johanna decided to cry again.

Through blurry vision, Johanna watched you with the instructor learning the basics. It was okay form and she couldn’t say anything without giving herself away so she turned her attention to crying again. It was its own workout. She buried her face into her knees and practically cried herself to sleep.

Johanna was woken up by you gently shaking her shoulder. You were sitting on your knees at her level. In a calm, soothing and oddly charming voice, you persistently asked her to join you for training. No was not accepted as an answer so Johanna was dragged to the weapons section. You picked up an axe and Johanna dreaded not being able to swing it around like she could. Oh god I’m going to have to pretend to be bad. She thought.

As soon as you instructed Johanna to hold it with 2 hands, she dropped it to the floor. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t ready.” She forced the tears to well up.

“No. It’s okay.” You consoled her with patience and shook your head helping Johanna lift it. She let you adjust her grip and your eyes lingered on her hands for a few seconds. You simplified your explanations after that and Johanna assumed you were giving up on a hopeless tribute from District 7 who couldn’t even hold their trade weapon but still being nice.

By the second day of training, it was clear you separated yourself from the career pack. Going to the survival sections and checking in on Johanna throughout the day retelling her about what you learned. Finnick got you in a habit of teaching him what he taught you saying the best way to truly know something was to teach to someone else.

The sibling-ship between you and Finnick was definitely stronger than her own relationship with her own siblings. You always had a story with him, like how you almost drowned him, how he let you drive the boat, or even the stupid dolphin sounds he made when a pod of dolphins swam next to the boat. You had your own whale speak that you demonstrated and gave Johanna second-hand embarrassment. She couldn’t have possibly shrunk any smaller.

Johanna wouldn’t lie, you were making her job a lot easier for her checking on her less and less throughout the day, quickly leaving when you couldn’t stop her from crying. God she hasn’t cried this much ever, her stomach was hurting to the point of nausea. To everyone else it looked like you were getting tired of her but she knew you better. You silently left a bottle with her name on the label of water filled with electrolytes so she could replenish the salt she lost while crying.

Johanna nearly had a heart attack when she saw your score after the individual assessment. An 11! Even after taking time to take care of her. Had you been prioritizing yourself, Johanna was sure you would’ve gotten a 12. Anyway, you did miles better than she had, earning the lowest training score ever at 2. Though according to plan, she couldn’t help but think about how you’d react to it. Were you disappointed?

During the interview with Caesar Flickerman, you addressed stepping away from the pack. “Oh those rumors are true. I don’t need them to win clearly with the score I got.” You flashed them a smirk that got everyone swooning over you. Johanna hated it, they didn’t even know like she did. They didn’t know that your favorite animal was a manatee. They didn’t know that you scratched your ear lobe when you were deep in thought. They definitely didn’t know that when you laughed, you place your hand over your heart. “And if that puts a target on my back, let them, I’ll kill them all.”

There was a flicker of darkness in your eyes and a venom in your voice that spread goosebumps over Johanna’s arms. The way you looked into the camera was like you were talking to her specifically. A horrible thought surfaced in her head. You were at the top of the tributes, you could easily feign kindness and kill her. It wasn’t ridiculous, after all, she herself was acting. It never occurred to her that someone else could be acting because at the end of the game, there would only be one victor. When the games started she needed to get away from you.

Johanna focused on herself, trying to speak about her family but then burst into tears again. She spent the rest of her interview time crying. It was getting old, even Johanna herself was getting tired of it by now. Blight was there to retrieve her after it and handed her a water bottle. “It’s from the District 4 girl.”

“Y/n.” She whispered, Johanna felt her heart tighten in her chest. Why am I feeling this way? She pushed it away, these were her cards and now all there was left to do was wait.

The arena was mountainous and rocky with patches of trees. When Johanna rose into it, she saw the cornucopia, and in the center, was a battle axe. You were six podiums to her left and when she found you, you were already looking at her. The moment the gong sounded, Johanna stumbled off her podium and ran toward the trees. She needed to get away from the bloodbath.

Just before reaching the tree line, Johanna dared to turn back. She saw you in the center dodging an attack from someone and grabbing a knife from the pile to slit their throats. You grabbed a harpoon, and a couple more knives before slinging a backpack over your shoulder. You made eye contact with her across the way before darting your eyes towards your left and her right.

When Johanna followed your gaze, she found the District 2 girl running towards her with a sword. Before she could even be close enough to start swinging the sword, a barbed dart flew into her head and her whole body jerked back to the ground as her head snapped. You gathered the rope around your arm and pulled the harpoon out of the dead Career. Johanna stood frozen, the center of the cornucopia and the edge of the tree line was at least 100ft and you just killed the career easily while she was moving.

“Go.” You said putting your hand on her shoulder and forcing her to run. “GO!” Johanna didn’t need to be told twice, and ran through the trees. Dodging and weaving were second nature to Johanna especially either all the tree farms. You followed closely behind for a while until you found a small cave, skidding to a stop. “Johanna! Over here!” Johanna was panicking. She just ran so fast for so long people would clearly start being suspicious. The District 7 resorted to dry heaving. “Oh. Oh man.” You said, you grabbed her arms and placed them behind her head. “Open up your airway love.”

Johanna was fine, but something about the way you called her love made all of her pretending go away. “I’m okay y/n. I’m fine.” Well almost. Her voice still had the softness to it. For the night, you tried to fit Johanna and yourself in the cave but she were hesitant.

You had unpacked your bag before asking Johanna a question, “Jo. Come on what’s wrong?”

“What if you try to kill me?”

You gave her a glare under the flashlight. “Honey, if I wanted you dead, I would’ve done it by now.” That shut Johanna up real quick and apparently the entire cave too. She did not expect to be scolded. “Why did you look back? God you were such an idiot. You could’ve gotten yourself killed.”

“I don’t know.” She did know. Johanna needed to know you were okay but she wasn’t going to tell you that. “Why did you save me?”

“I do not want or need your obituary to say death by standing in the middle of a cornucopia bloodbath.”

Johanna wasn’t sure what your plan was. Didn’t you know that there could only be one victor? What were you going to do when there was only the two of them left? It seems to Johanna that you weren’t going to think about it until then.

She didn’t mind it, sitting all day in a cave might be boring but if she isn’t doing anything, Johanna’s conserving energy. You and Johanna shared more about your homes, you more than her since now everything was on camera. At night you sat quietly holding Johanna in the sleeping bag you shared, she was sniffling and you decided to glide your nails over her forearm.

On the second day, after a bit of hiking you found a large river and immediately jumped in after stripping. “Come in the water!” You laughed cupping a handful of water and drinking it.

“I don’t know how to swim.” Johanna replied meekly.

Your shoulders visibly dropped before making your way back to the shore. Suddenly you stopped eyeing something down stream. You squinted your eyes and Johanna watched you sink your head underwater only to surface 20ft away fighting a red splashing fish the size of your torso. You laughed as its tail whacked you in the stomach. With incredible strength you hoisted it between your arms and slid your fingers into the second gill and pulled. The fish stopped moving and you held it over your shoulders as you finally made it back to shore.

“Dinner! And breakfast and lunch and dinner again. For the two of us, I could probably last a few days. I hope you’re not allergic to fish Anna.” A small ding sounded and Johanna found a parachute floating right towards you as you were now gutting the fish. You paused for a second opening it to a full ice chest. “Thank’s Finn!” After cutting the fish into pieces, you and Johanna continued hiking finding another cave.

For the next couple of days, you and Johanna stayed in the cave only going out to get water. Johanna played her weakling part, clinging to your arm to not go. The compromise you came to was that Johanna would sit at the entrance with a knife and watch your back as you went to grab water.

On day 5, you told Johanna that since they were nearing the top 8 tributes, they would be interviewing family soon. She hoped her family knew what her plan was and made something up. You ran out of food this morning and told Johanna to not worry about you when you went out. It was only a few minutes you were out of site that a cannon sounded.

Johanna immediately ran out of the cave. “Johanna? Johanna!” She heard you call.

“Y/n!” She called back. You ran up the ridge to her. “I thought you-“

You pulled her into a hug shushing her. “It’s okay Jo. I’m here.” You stroked her hair trying to calm her. She spent the rest of the walk to the river clinging to your arm. The two of you made your way back to where you left your harpoon only to literally see all the water drained into the floor.

“What are they doing?”

“The Gamemakers are draining the river, probably to set up something to bring tributes together.”

“We don’t have to go right?”

“We need the water.”

“How long can we survive without water?”

“3 days.”

“Can we make it 3 days.”

“Yes but who’s to say the Gamemakers won’t wait 3 days to bring everyone together? When we’re desperate water.”

Johanna hated the Capitol. She hated being at their mercy. And she hated her plan right about now. The clueless weak girl that could do nothing could probably tap a tree for sugar and water by now if she had just showed who she was from the beginning and gotten that axe. But had she done that, she wouldn’t have you.

You and Johanna toughed it out waiting the rest of the day and the next before an announcement sounded. Attention Tributes tomorrow morning at the Cornucopia you are invited to attend. Each of you desperately needs something. That will be the only announcement. May the odds be ever in your favor.”

There hadn’t been a cannon since the scare cannon a few days ago. With the fallen tributes tribute that night, you figured out that besides you and Johanna, there were the rest of the careers, a boy from 9 and a girl from 11. You were stressed, Johanna could tell, you were fiddling with a rope you brought in as your token running your fingers through the grooves.

Hiking back to the Cornucopia at night was pretty easy since you and Johanna spent most of your time in cave. Johanna navigated through the trees easily, being from 7 and working in the tree farms, she had to know the way home or she’d become the forest witch’s food, or she was told. The two of you made it to the cornucopia in the middle of the night just after they played the anthem where no fallen tributes appeared.

In the night, neither you or Johanna could get some sleep knowing there were tributes around. You sat back to back and eventually you used Johanna’s shoulder as a head rest and she felt your soft breathing on her neck. Your right hand reached for her left behind you and you ran your thumb over the back of her skin. Johanna turned her head to look at you only finding that you were already looking at her with a sparkle in your eyes. She might’ve imagined it but your eyes were focused on her lips. Johanna felt a weird feeling in her stomach. Part of her wanted you lean in. That thought scared her so she laid on your shoulder. Johnna felt her face go red as she stared ahead to watch you 6.

In the morning, you gave Johanna a knife and told her to walk in front of you. The plan was to get what you needed and get the hell out of there. You stood with you back facing her as being the first people here meant you were the first targets, but she’s seen you throw. It felt like forever waiting for the feast but then Johanna heard a humming and saw the packs. Before it could even finish rising, Johanna grabbed the District 7 pack and District 4 pack trying to run away.

You held an arm out to stop her. Across the way were the four remaining careers. Johanna almost questioned why you didn’t throw your harpoon but then that would be taking your only weapon away. The careers charged towards them raising their weapons. You gripped Johanna’s shoulders as you strapped the backpacks onto her. “Run! You hear me? Run and don’t look back!”

She took off through the cornucopia but stopped when she heard a cannon. You were her ally and friend, she wasn’t going to leave, not after everything you have done for her. In the cornucopia, the battle axe from the first day was no longer there. There were smaller chopping axes and splitting axes that’ll have to do. Johanna picked them up hearing metal clash against metal outside.

She heard groaning that wasn’t yours and another strike that caused another man to scream. Then the dread filled her ears, she heard you gasp in pain fall to the ground with a thud. Johanna gritted her teeth when she heard the careers taunting you.

“Now that you’re as good as dead, your little cry baby is nex-“

Johanna put an axe in his face before he could even finish his sentence and before the other two careers managed to make sense of what was going on, the District 7 tribute had swung in their direction. The second one was barely lifted his bloody sword before Johanna literally chopped his head off.

Johanna saw red, hacking and swinging at everyone around her. The boy from 4 put up a fight but was so badly injured by you that he didn’t stand a chance against her. Back at the feast table, someone else had grabbed a backpack trying to run from the danger but Johanna threw the knife you gave her into the person’s calf. In one swift motion, she removed the axe from the career’s face and split this tribute’s head down the middle.

Blood sprayed on her face. When she looked up, the girl had wide eyes and tripped on the floor falling face first into the gravel. Johanna ran straight to her and swung at her shoulder. She was down but Johanna kept swinging until her body was nothing but a messed up pile of flesh and blood.

Looking around with a strong grip on the axe, she couldn’t see anyone else so Johanna quickly ran towards you. As she approached you, she heard a quiet voice congratulating her but ignored it. You were on the ground in your own pool of blood. The red liquid was flowing out of your torso and your eyes and her heart clenched. “Come on we have to go!”

“Johanna? You’re alive? You’re okay?” You choked out.

“Yeah I’m fine. Theyre dead. We need to go before the others come.” Johanna slings her arm over to carry her but you groaned at the slightest movement.

“Jo. Johanna! Stop! There’s no one left Jo. 22 cannons. We’re the last two.” Johanna was shocked she thought she was keeping track too but she must’ve lost count somewhere. Johanna realized the gravity of your situation. he should have told you she could fight. She could’ve grabbed an axe faster to help you. She might’ve blown her cover but you would still be okay. And you were, Johanna brought her hands to your stomach and pressed into it.

“Hey tell my brother I love him okay?” Her heart beat soared and she felt it in her throat when you said that. You were dying. She let out a choked sob.

“No. No! No you are not dying on me. You’re going to win this and tell him yourself.” She yelled.

“Love, judging by how strong your voice is, only one of us is on our death bed.”

No! Shut up! Stay with me. Stay with me please. Do you hear me? I can’t lose you Y/n!”

“You don’t have a choice Jo.”

She did have a choice. She chose to present herself as weak and now you were dying because she let you do all the work. You could’ve been a power duo, at least you wouldn’t have had to 1v4 the rest of the careers. Even though the careers had stabbed you, it was Johanna’s fault and for the first time since her reaping, she cried real tears.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head and struggled to open your eyes to meet Johanna’s. “Don’t be. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I lied to you. I- I killed them all. It was all an act, the crying, the fainting, the training score. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.” If she didn’t have tears streaming out of her eyes she would have seen the smug smile on your face.

You reached up to cup her cheek swiping the blood from it. You shushed her caressing her face. “You give them hell Johanna.” Johanna let out a whimper leaning into your hand as she pressed into you harder to stop the bleeding.

Something weird filled her vision, waves breaking over the rocks, Finnick’s smile, swimming with the dolphins, a field of wild flowers. The conch shell you liked to listen to after catching it and herself sitting alone at lunch.

Boom.

Johanna burst into tears and buried her face into your neck crying, leaving a trail of snot on your shoulder. She wiped the snot with the back of her hand not caring that she just smeared your blood on her face. Ladies and Gentleman the victor of the 71st Hunger Games Johanna Mason.

You were gone, just like that. You didn’t deserve it, you were a good person. She came in here with a plan and she never expected to fall in love let alone have an ally. She hated the Capitol and she is going to give them hell. They will regret taking you from her.

~

Outside of the helpless girl act, Johanna proved to be a formidable district girl. She was known as strong, cunning, angry and after refusing to prostitution, extra angry.

Johanna was standing on an empty balcony swirling a drink around with a scowl on her face. There was no need to be cordial with everyone. She openly hated them and everyone praised her for her strategy even fooling a career. You weren’t just a career to her, you were an ally, a friend, her love. She cried all her tears for you, vowing never to cry again.

She heard the door click open and was about to rip into this person until she turned and came face to face with the familiar sea green eyes and tanned skin. Johanna didn’t know how much attention she gave to you and your features until now. “Finnick.”

“Johanna.” He said. The newest victor immediately back tracked on her vow. Tears welled in her eyes but she didn’t let them fall. Here she was categorizing her feelings to love when it did not compare to Finnick’s pain. He practically raised you and it showed on his face, the half smiles and the bags under his eyes, his disheveled hair, though all the capitol elites found it hot.

He leaned against the same railing facing the opposite way to Johanna. He didn’t offer to talk, sitting in the silence was an Odair thing apparently, not that Johanna knew what to say anyway.

She settled for, “I keep thinking about what would have happened if I picked up the axe sooner. I might not have had an ally in her but she’d probably be alive. Some ally I was.”

Finnick had turned his body to her. “I thought Y/n was crazy for wanting to be your ally after the first day of training.” Johanna looked at him puzzled, thinking back to what she possibly could have done to get you to want her. She cried, you sat with her for lunch and you taught her how to use an axe. Well as much as you can teach someone who already knew how. “But I guess she saw something in you.”

“When she taught you how to tie a knot or any other skills, did you pretend to be bad?”

“Yeah. Why?”

It was the axe, Johanna remembered now, when you looked at her hands and then gave her less explanations on how to wield one. Of course, you taught Finnick skills he already knew so you could commit it to memory and actually learn it instead of forgetting it. “I did the same thing when she tried to teach me how to use an axe. She knew! She knew all this time and didn’t say anything about it. God! I should’ve done something to help her sooner.”

“You can’t change the past.”

“I fucking know that.” She was indebted to you. For keeping her secret, for trusting her, for protecting her. Always. “I just wish I could tell her how much she means to me.”

“There are so many things left unsaid. But wherever my sister is, I think she’ll know.”

[babyangelsky]

My Favorite Expressions in Love Sea Ep. 10

I can't believe this is my last one of these 😭

I've loved watching and writing about this show so much. I was always going to enjoy it because of the FortPeat of it all but I never thought I'd have so much to say about it or that I'd end up writing about it weekly. The only other shows I've written about to such an extent are Two Worlds and Dead Friend Forever.

I've only had this blog for a little over a year and a half and it's only in the past six months that I've been actively talking on it and making friends on here. I really want to thank all of you who take the time to read my posts and indulge my clown behavior and leave your thoughts and kind words in the tags. It means a lot 💜

Okay let's talk about microexpressions before I start crying in the club. Again.

We start off with Tongrak about to go have lunch with his mama after not seeing her for years. Mahasamut is lovely and encouraging because of course he is, he's my Memo Ochoa, but this face when Rak mentions wanting him to come along next time...

It's not that Mut doesn't want to. He does. It's just that he's very aware that it's not up to him.

And Rak doesn't quite get what he means because he's been trying very hard this whole time to not see this situationship for what it is.

His smile doesn't quite fall but it does flicker for a second and there's the smallest tilt of his head. Didn't he just ask Mut to come along? Then why is Mut telling him that it's up to him whether that meal with mama ever happens?

You can't pretend that elephant ain't there forever, Khun Tongrak.

And Mahasamut can't either.

"See the missing heart?"

It was at that moment that Tongrak understood what Mut was doing in giving him that bracelet.

And there was no joy at the realization. Only fear, dread, and panic. He doesn't allow Mut to get out the 'I love you'. He begs him not to sat it because simply knowing that it's coming terrifies him.

Tongrak tries to run away and draw up another agreement in a useless last-ditch effort to avoid Mut's feelings, but Mut doesn't allow that. We're at the end of the rope. We're at the edge of the cliff. The camel's back is one straw away. He loves Rak and he wants and needs to tell Rak. And he does.

But Tongrak is afraid of that love. He doesn't want it, and it breaks Mut's heart.

So Mut makes one last effort to make Tongrak understand that what he wants isn't Rak's money, but him and that terrifies Rak MORE because that money was another brick in the wall he'd built to protect his heart and now Mut is giving it all back and the integrity of that wall is weakening.

He isn't prepared to be without the wall so he rejects Mut and in doing so, chooses to be without him instead.

And here is where I grumble again about wanting to talk about a scene more and having to cut myself off for photo limit reasons.

When Mahasamut goes to say goodbye to Vivi and Mook and ask them to take care of Tongrak, Mook is the only one who's surprised. Vivi isn't. Hell, she doesn't say a word the whole scene and she doesn't have to. Look at her face. She understands why things are happening this way because she understands Rak and was coming to understand Mut. She knew something had to give.

Mook asks Mut if he's sure and wants him to reconsider but Vivi knows that he's here because he is and he has. Mook wonders what will become of Rak without Mut but Vivi (and we) know what it isn't just about Rak. Mut deserves to be loved and cared for the same way he does for others and has emotional needs just like anyone else and that's why he has to go home.

Mahasamut made sure to keep his promise of sweets in exchange for a good report card to Meena before he left and he almost made it home without breaking down but hearing Meena and her mom talk about what the number 8 means to Tongrak and the dawning realization of why Tongrak gave him an 8 that random night in bed is just too much.

It's all too much because at its core the reason Mut and Rak can't be together at this moment isn't a lack of love. The love is there but it's being smothered beneath the weight of Rak's fear.

Oh and hearing Mut's hitched sob after Meena asks him if he's okay?That absolutely did me the fuck in I'm never recovering fuck you Fort and also well done go sit at Chris Chiu's table.

I'd like to take a break from all this pain to complain that Mook didn't get to wear glasses for the whole show because look how cute my girly looks in them.

And the two flavors of concern she and Vivi have for Tongrak who is doing about as well as expected.

Sidenote: Khun Tongrak I'm never going to get over you leaving Mut's bracelet in the trash can for a week.

Her mess of a love life aside, Vivi is such a good friend. If I hadn't been so busy being sad in the moment I would've caught this face and realized the bracelet was safe.

As devastating as it was to see both Mahasamut and Tongrak have their individual moments of realization followed by a public breakdown, they were both important. I daresay they needed to happen because THIS is the true root of the issue.

Tongrak isn't afraid of love and he doesn't actually think it doesn't exist. He knows that it does and he's afraid of what comes with it. He's afraid of what happens when it's gone and the way that it hurts people because that is all he knows, that's the sum total of what all his life experiences have taught him about love.

But because until meeting Mut he never experienced love himself, he never had to confront that fear or fight its hold on him. There was never a reason to. It just kept getting reinforced to him and he fell back on it when he couldn't hide from his or Mut's feelings anymore.

This is what "do it scared" looks like. I'm so proud of my fighter.

And I'm proud of my Memo too for standing on business and not folding the moment Rak appeared even though I know a part of him really wanted to.

Tongrak broke Mahasamut's heart and it's not enough for Rak to appear and ask Mut to put the bracelet on him. That's still him wanting Mut to take the first step and even though we know that it's because Rak doesn't know how to go about this and desperately wants an opening, the first step is one he has to take without any help or prompting. Coming to the island was only half the battle.

And it's BRUTAL to watch because we know that Rak isn't there to hurt Mut and that he wants to reconcile and apologize and tell Mut he loves him but he just CANNOT find the words no matter how hard he tries.

Tongrak is a writer, words are his whole life, but it's like he told Vivi: fiction isn't reality. It is so much harder to say what you want to say when you're doing it for yourself and not for a character on a page.

"Don't make me throw my own heart away."

The lighting and the photo limit are preventing more screenshots of this scene and that is a good thing because just rewatching and seeing the glint of tear tracks on Fort's face is making me cry.

DAMN RIGHT YOU'RE NOT GONNA QUIT THAT'S MY BOY

Tongrak found the words and he found a way to say them and he found a way to make Mahasamut hear them and they're looking at each other with hope and surprise and love and I'm a MESS.

*blubbering* Just look at this adorable little cross-eyed look that makes it seem like Rak is trying to make sure he's not imagining this and all he can say is Mahasamut's name with increasing desperation and and--

Fuck fuck fuck fuck

"Pom rak khun."

"Chan rak nai."

*CRYING IN THE CLUB*

There is not a single expression in this entire television program that means more to me than this one. Not a single fucking one.

This is the face Rak is going to wake up to for the rest of his life, soft sexy morning voice included.

I just want to state for the record that I knew this pouty kitten had bought them a house the second he rushed in all excited with his envelope. I understand this man too well to be surprised by the things he does.

I would also like to point out THAT HE IS IN A TEXTURED PATTERN AND THAT I WAS RIGHT!

There are so many more expressions that I would've loved to include but this was a long episode and the photo limit is a cruel mistress.

This show wasn't perfect but I loved it so much. It helped me process some things, it healed some things, and it gave me Tongrak and Mahasamut whom I love and will miss so dearly.

I had a great time watching with ya'll and writing about it 🥰

*manifests a special episode*

[causenessus]

try again

part 0.3. FEELING A LITTLE DAPPER

“she still has his contact in her phone. some days she still looks through their old texts; at the last conversation they had, without even knowing it’d be their last. other days, she hovers over the delete button, but she’s never hit it. she could never sever her last tie to him. she wants to believe that maybe their lives are intertwined, sewn together in some way. she looks at the prunus mume tree right outside her office window as she cleans up the place a bit. it had to mean something, right? to her, it didn’t signify a lot, just forever. it was a heart-twisting reminder of him every time she saw it, and she wonders, did he recognize the tree? when he walked into her office and stared out her window, did he recognize it as the one that bears his favorite food? her head instinctively turns to look at it every time she passes it by, much like she used to do when she’d walk by his house when they still lived close to each other, even after they stopped talking. it’s not like there’d be anything new about the tree she hadn’t already seen; the flowers were blooming from the branches dancing in the wind, and its roots were peeking out from underneath the ground, but she still can’t help turning her head every time she walks by it. she can’t ever stop herself from looking at anything that reminds her of him. which is funny, because she sees him in everything; every song is about him, every story is about him–he was everything to her, and he still is everything. he’ll always be in her life. not a lot, just forever.”

content warning: lighthearted joke about being an alcoholic

.

.

.

"when you walked in, i just stood still. i said, 'i'm sorry, love, i have no will. if i try to move, i'll break and spill. tired is the burning sea that calls me to the bottom like a stone. and i'm sinking alone.'"

prev. | m.list | next

extras <3

today has been a day...so if this is a crusty boring chapter i am SO sorry

i tried i promise

when the tea gossipers gc moved in they all ended up writing like a document with multiple agreements

some of which being a cycle in which they will all cook for everyone, or if they're feeling lazy, they have to treat everyone out (but there's a $40 limit on how much they have to pay, anything more than that is either split between the rest of the three roomies or they'll each pay for their own drinks. tldr; there's lots of holes and amendments to this rule)

iwaizumi (although this applies to everyone, it's mainly for him since this is required in the rest of their jobs) is sworn to secrecy because he lives with three people who all specialize in dealing with serious cases and personal lives

omi is very admant about recycling. and he makes sure to wash out everything before it's recycled so that it's done properly (i'm projecting)

the tea gossipers went out to a sushi restaurant first before akaashi and y/n agreed it was too peaceful there and they wanted to go to a bar to drink (they're both only slightly tipsy atp, y/n doesn't feel like getting blackout drunk today and akaashi debating it rn)

the peas in a pod gc went to onigiri miya once omi got home when osamu stood there listening to atsumu explain the situation and try and convince omi to text y/n while omi ignored him the entire time

and then texted y/n five minutes later bc he couldn't hold himself back anymore

and as mentioned in the beginning :) y/n has kept his contact and a pfp of him from when he played volleyball when he was younger

taglist: @eggyrocks @wyrcan @guitarstringed-scars @strawberryuri @violetesensou @kakeru-eem @glmge @heytheredemonsss @mollyrolls @bemebiu @daszy @snail-squasher @0moonii @thiisisntlovely @todorokiskitten @rory-cakes @iiwaijime @iatethemochi @yuminako @savemebrazilhinata @kismyscars @bokutoko @nobodybutnnoorr @wolffmaiden @daisy-room @softpia @lees-chaotic-brain @v3nusplanetofluv @crispchocolates @phoenix-eclipses @hhoneyhan @encrypta @rockleeisbaeeee @cr4yolaas @zombriesworld @localgaytrainwreck @moucheslove @hibernatinghamster @notverymarley @certaindreampost @akaakeis @ciderscape @lucien-luna @strawbrinkofdeath @wave2mia @samuel1004 @01trickster10 @dazqa @cosmiicdust @chemiru

[moscnios]

Straw Hats x Fem Gardener S/O platonic fluff HCs! The main reason I request this? FLOWER CROWNS! But also, S/O is good at growing crops and flowers, so she must have a greenhouse on deck to grow fruits, tangerines, vegetables, any medicinal herbs, flowers, anything! So helpful and sweet! And also, FLOWER CROWNS!

★ WITH A FEM GARDENER CREWMATE! headcanons ★

── featuring. the strawhats.

── cw. f!reader. no pronouns used. platonic. very brief mention of homesickness. not proofread.

── notepad. sigh i love you platonic and domestic hcs of the strawhats. you complete me <333

never in all of your years did you think you would find yourself gardening on the sea with a group who had come like family to you, a group you couldn't see yourself living without

building your new greenhouse on the deck was a group effort because it was supposed to be a surprise for you

you loved being at sea with the strawhats, you wouldn't trade it for the world. but it didn't stop you from missing home

a spring island somewhere out there, where the love and life are just as plentiful as the beautiful green that covers it

to bring a piece of your home back to you, the strawhats all chip to help make you a greenhouse where you continue your gardening while on the sea. something you never thought you could do

you somehow didn't find out about what they were planning, despite a few of your crewmates being blabbermouths.

after a girl's day in the island port town, you landed on a few days ago with nami and robin, you finally see it.

"surprise!" your crewmates, your family, jumps out all covered in wood chips and paint of all colors. some were covered in more paint than others. you swore your captain was wearing a yellow shirt that day, but with the amount of blue on it, it may as well have been blue.

you love your greenhouse! well, it wasn't just your greenhouse anymore. it was another place for you and your crewmates to spend time together.

it's the perfect place to have early lunches on sunny days and a late dinner on calm and cool nights under warm string lights.

your extensive knowledge of plants and your natural green thumb make you a versatile member of the crew.

on one end of your greenhouse, you were growing medical herbs for chopper's research and medicines. on another side, you made a special place for nami's tangerine trees you helped her take great care of.

on another corner were many vegetables for sanji's amazing dishes. and close by were the sweetest fruits in all of the grand line that would sometimes go missing the next morning

which is why you have decided to start locking up the greenhouse at night.

but who can forget, the flower crowns !!

a small gesture that would have a lasting impact on each of them, all with their own flower that you believed best represented them based on the flowers' meanings and your crew's personalities.

luffy puts his crown around his hat. when the flowers start to die and lose their color, he will become sad and ask you to make another one for him to replace it.

zoro was confused as to what exactly you wanted him to do with it until you motioned for him to put it on his head. it's uhhh...definitely not for him. but you're like a sister to him so if you flash puppy eyes, he'll wear it

sanji finds the crown you made for him adorable. he finds you even more charming for going out of your way to make it for him. he doesn't deserve such gifts from you but he is happy to wear them to make you happy. he preserves them so he can hold onto them forever.

robin definitely helps you make the flower crowns with all those extra pairs of hands that she has. like sanji, robin preserves the flower crowns that you give her. she will take a piece of them and put them in resin to make homemade jewelry from.

jinbei is your favorite to make flower crowns for. with all of his long beautiful hair, you are constantly putting big, colorful flowers in his hair because he sits there and just lets you do it. sometimes he'll even put flowers in your hair. flower pals !!

brook, like jinbei, enjoys it when you put flower crowns and stick flowers in his hair over cups of tea.

usopp pretends that he doesn't want one, but he secretly does. so after he politely declines and you (pretend to) take his word for it and walk away, he's so sad. pls no, give it to him !!

chopper loves making flower crowns with you. he could make them all day. he loves wearing several of them on his antlers, so he can spin, turn, and dance and they flow in the wind.

nami loves extravagant flower crowns. the bigger and more colorful, the better. she will throw little hints that she really wants one made of sunflowers and roses, such as saying how much she really REALLY wants one, and will sigh out loud when she's in front of the flowers. so when you actually surprise her with one, she's so happy she could squeeze the life out of you. you're her favorite for a reason

franky is so gentle with his flower crown. he's terrified that he may accidentally break or bruise the flowers that you worked so hard to put together. he will pull out the tiny yellow hand to put it on or take it off. he is going to make this thing last !!

MANGEKYOU 2024 ── do not copy, repost, or translate my works onto this platform or any other !

[random-imagines-blog]

Poison Oak {Jaqen H’Ghar x Reader Oneshot}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 3568 Summary: You travel in disguise to visit a fellow no one. Along the way, you become a someone. Notes: It is Jaqen and follows the show, so there will be death mentioned.

The armor, these ‘uniforms’ that the Lannister men wear had to be more uncomfortable than the most grizzled of faces. The squeakiness of the metal, the weight of it. A woman does not complain, though she wears something that was not made for her. A woman does not let anyone else know that she is not a man. You wore the face of a man for now, becoming one in manner, voice, and appearance. That was a gift from the Many-Faced God. You were no one behind the face. You were simply ‘A woman’ when you did not wear it, no name of your own, no past, only freedom, only unlimited skies. You were not currently on a job; you had no target near you that you were meant to assassinate. You were here for the company, despite the troublesome circumstances. You were a woman coming to meet a man. 

“Jaqen H’Ghar,” you said, your eyes catching onto those of your friend. A Faceless man recognizes another, and for a second, you see that his own eyes brighten up. You were always able to read his faces better than any book in the Citadel library. Every little twitch, glint in the eye, even the way that his nostrils would flare. Whatever face that he wore, you would be able to tell. That was a gift from the Many-Faced God.  

His head bowed to you, and he turned a corner into a corridor leading into the great castle. A quiet place, where we could talk alone. Despite the desolation of the castle, it’s near ruin, and the rumors of it being a cursed place - quiet was hard to find here. Echoes of those being tortured by ‘the Tickler’ were often bouncing around, reaching the ears of everyone, no matter how hard they held their hands to try to attain silence. “You’ve used this face before,” He hummed, firelight bouncing off of his red hair.  

“It is one of my favorites,” You admitted, your smile pulling at the hollowed cheeks of the person you were wearing. “Do you remember when I wore it last?” 

“Raventree Hall,” He nodded. “A man does not forget a kill. Especially when it is a team effort.” 

To others outside of you and him, this might sound like a stiff conversation. To the point. Almost impersonal. But your heart was beating fast beneath all of this metal, flesh and bone. Feeling first and thinking later was not the way that the Faceless Men operated - all except for you. Feelings were the only reason you were here. 

“A job well done, in my books. It may be foolish for a woman to believe in luck, and yet I find this face to be the ... a charm for me. And it has worked again.”  

“Who are you?” Jaqen asked, curiously. The two of you could do this all day. Coming up with backgrounds and names for the faces that you wore, weaving together a life that could be discarded and forgotten at any moment. That was the thrill of it. It was such a short time to be someone, before returning to being no one. 

“My name is Barrish Falwell,” you said, in a low and gravelly voice that matched the face. “I grew up in Gulltown, the son of a fisherman, and became a sailor meself, having my first fishing boat by the time I was thirteen. I found there was more money in transportin’ than in Fishing, so I made my livin by ferryin’ people to and fro, across the waters. I found me a wife, an’ I had two daughters, the most precious people in my life they’ll forever be - though they were drowned during a storm, and I had no more love for the sea. I gave up my vocation to become a soldier for the Lannisters, who I’ve chosen to give my loyalty to, as I have no love for the Starks or the Baratheon brothers. Joffrey is and should be the one true king by right, and it is only what’s right that keeps the world goin’ round. If I should die for them, I’ll be back with my family, and it will be the most noble way to die.” 

“What made Barrish so interested in the line of inheritance to the throne?” Jaqen asked, as if testing. I had an answer for everything, though. I paid close attention to my story. Details were my strong suit. 

“I once had the displeasure of ferrying Stannis across a short way. He paid me poorly for the pleasure. Did not even give a tip, not the flash of an extra coin. A man like that should not be in any sort of power. He’ll cheat all the common man. But not the Lannisters. No, it is in their motto. t’s only right that a boy raised with those values continue to sit on the throne. Bring the Seven Kingdoms to prosperity by payin’ everyone who is loyal to them.” 

“And you believe you’ll be paid for this?” 

“Aye, I do. A Lannister always pays his debts, so surely, I would be paid for my loyalty and hard work, no?” You said, your voice still gravelly. You sounded pathetically naive. You sounded like just the kind of man that a Lannister would let into his service willingly. And to give one of the shit jobs that no one cares about. There were more than enough men to watch over the castle, without having some slim ferryman like you around.  

“Hello, Barrish Falwell,” Jaqen said with a small smirk, leaning against the stone wall. “Do you miss your wife?” 

“Very much so, friend. She was the mos’ amazing woman that I’ve ever met. I was quite the lucky man to have her. Enith, her name was. The jewel of our town too, the prettiest pearl that ever lived. Aye, that she was.” 

“I once knew a woman like that myself,” Jaqen said, his eyes darting over your playfully.  

“An’ what happened to her?” You asked, your own shining brightly through the face that you were wearing. It was so unlike your own. Such masculine features to cover any feminine that you had. Even your body seemed to transform in the garb that you were wearing, in the way that you walked, your mannerisms, had all become that of a weary widowed man just trying to get through the day.  

“She became no one,” Jaqen said, a rare smile crossing his handsome face. His true face, on this occasion, was the one that you admired the most.  

“What a beautiful thing to happen,” you said. Though it wasn’t entirely the truth. To be truly no one - one must have no attachments, no past, no future. You had one attachment, and he was standing in front of you. To be attached to a man with no attachments - it was a torturous way to live. But you could not help yourself - you were not just a woman, but you were a woman in love.  

The sound of approaching footsteps, more like clanks in the armor, came to your attention and you and Jaqen both straightened up, faces serious, looking like men on duty. A soldier walked past with barely a look at the two of you. “It is dangerous for a woman to be here,” Jaqen said, that slight hint of joviality in his eyes gone. 

“It’s dangerous for anyone to be here, there’s a war,” you said, your own mouth in a straight line. “Why do you stick around so? There’s much work to be done back in Braavos. Prices are high during these dire times.” 

“A debt needs to be paid, and I must stay until it is done,” Jaqen said, and with those words, you knew that there was nothing that was going to get him to leave. 

“To the Red God?” You asked in a low tone. 

“To the Red God,” He affirmed. 

“A woman understands. If a debt is to be paid, then a debt is to be paid,” you said with a nod. “I will stay until your business is over.” 

He raised an eyebrow at you, and moved in closer, his breath warm against your worn face. “Why does a woman choose to stay?” He asked you. “It is perilous, even for us. Faces - they cannot save us from this war.” 

“Death will come when it comes,” you said, shrugging that off. “A woman is no coward to it. But it is dangerous to travel alone in these times, so I shall wait for you. And then we shall set back together.” 

After a moment, he nods. “I can agree to this. Be careful - we are not the only ones who do not belong here. I will signal you when the debts are paid.” 

“Excellent,” you said, right as a feeling of cold goes through you, his breath removed, Jaqen gone down the hallway to attend to his duties - those of a Faceless man, and those of the soldier that he was pretending to be. You breathed out yourself, and then set off, one foot in front of the other, to a soldier’s patrol, blending in seamlessly. 

This face got you through the next while. No one suspected you of a thing, and not even the slightest about being an outsider here. You were never apart from this face, not when you slept among the rest of the men, not when you thought you were alone, not for a second. You lived and breathed being Barrish Falwell. You were flawless in this, truly becoming the man, moaning out his dead wife’s name in his sleep to the displeasure of the others around, taking part in the drinking of ale and having a preference for sitting close to the fire, and even talking dirty about women, making sickening jokes.  

Jaqen was never too far, his eyes either on you, or on a masquerading girl who poured wine for Tywin Lannister. It was a wonder to you that others did not see through her short hair and boyish face to the female beneath. It was she who had saved Jaqen, and thus owed the Red God three deaths, using Jaqen to get them. The Ticker - he was the first. You knew Jaqen’s handiwork, the body lying dead in the courtyard, under the windows. What a relief, you may finally get a night’s break from the screams. Ser Amory Lorch. It was not done with the usual grace, so it must have been under extreme haste. That set Tywin on guard who starts to order the assassination of many of his own men. Although Jaqen seemed safe, it seemed as if time was running out for you. You kept your head down, keeping to yourself, still giving off the appearance of a man who was too loyal to do this, too scared of Tywin to do something like this, too pathetic to kill someone of his own volition. But it felt as if eyes were ever on you. 

It would be only too easy to remove the guise of Barrish Falwell. To rid yourself of the face and slip on another, become someone else. But a newcomer now would only be under more suspicion. A woman had to be smart, smarter than any man in order to survive this. But you were running low on ideas. You had gotten the call - Tywin wished to see you and three other soldiers that night, after dinner.  

As you were thinking, silently having your stew and your ale, a slight nudge on your back told you everything that you needed to know. It was calculated. It was purposeful. It was the signal that something was to happen. Your eyes darted to the back of Jaqen as he walked through the tables to his own, sitting down with some of the other men. His own blue eyes looked back at you, and you turned back to your bowl.  

It would not be your death given to the Red God today. He would make sure of that.  

An escape plan had been forged. Jaqen had wordlessly met you after the sun had gone down, when you were meant to be making your way to Tywin. Instead of going to where you were supposed to be, you walked with Jaqen towards the gates, and silently dispatched the guards there. Killing was as easy to you as eating, as drinking water from a fresh stream. Blade through the flesh and move on. The Red God would be happy with your offering. Jaqen pinned them in place with their own spears to not arouse suspicion until the morning shift came around to relieve them, giving plenty of time to escape. You left with him in the hills, leaving Barrish behind. Your own skin was touched by the wind for the first time in days, a sigh of relief escaping from your lips. 

“So, a girl has given you your name?” You asked towards Jaqen as you walked away from the girl and her companions. “That is quite a cruel twist. A girl will go far in life.” 

Jaqen looked grumpy as he remembered the sound of his name coming out of the lips of Arya Stark. The girl had pushed him into doing more than he had intended to do. Killed more than the God had required. “I would have had to do it.” 

“I know, you’re a killer with honor,” you said, looking amused, nonetheless. “If such a thing exists, it is surely you.” 

Despite the heavy armor that you were stuck wearing - there was not much else that would protect you if you were to come across others on the road back to the Braavos - you were walking quickly, near skipping, energy in your stride. You held your hands behind you, walking a short distance ahead of Jaqen, turning your head to face him. His blue eyes looked at you and then down at the ground, and if you didn’t know better, you would almost think that he was blushing.  

“A man is,” He nodded, his eyes continuing to look down at the worn trail that you were taking. It was not a road; you were both avoiding those. Besides - the roads took too long, creating detours. “Has to be, when a girl lacks it.” 

“Has it left a bitter taste in your mouth?” You teased. 

“Like poison oak,” He stated.  

“And yet you have given her the coin, our codeword,” You reminded him. “I think that you secretly saw something in her. More of that poison oak that you could help grow, to spread towards targets.” 

“There was something there,” He admitted, more so to himself than to you. “A potential, yes. Sometimes it can be found in the most unlikely of places.” 

“It almost sounds as if a man has a heart,” you said, tilting your head towards him as you walked. 

“A man has never said that he hasn’t,” He retorted, making you smile. And making you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, like you were sitting by a fire after coming out of the rain. It felt as if he were flirting with you. Almost too good to be true. 

And when things are too good to be true - they usually were. Because all of a sudden, his arm shoved you away from him, hard, sending you falling onto the ground. Your head hits one of the rocks, causing your vision to grow fuzzy. You were struggling to hang onto it, to stay conscious. Your hand went to the back of your head and pulled away with crimson on your fingers. You had seen enough blood to know exactly what it was. And you had also caused enough head injuries to know that it wasn’t a good thing at all.  

Where you had been standing only seconds before, an arrow was sticking out of the ground. The feathers attached to it were red - The Lannisters. They had found their dead and sent trackers after the two of you. 

Jaqen managed to make quick work of them while you stayed low to the ground, putting pressure where the wound was despite the fact that it hurt. You were moaning, unable to keep it from coming out of you. The rising sun hurts your eyes, making you close them tightly. Clenching, more like. 

“Y/N, are you alright?” He asked, returning to your side, using the name that you often used in your disguises. It was close to the name that you had been born with, but not close enough to bring back all of the bad memories.  

“Hit my head - on the rock -” you said, pointing towards the spot where your head had made contact. There was a bit of your blood there, oxidizing in the sunshine. It would be brown soon, rather than red, but still a sign that you had been there.  

“I - have pushed you too hard,” he said, using first-person speech. “I should have noticed -” 

“You still saved me,” you said, opening up one of your eyes to look at him. There was more concern in his expression than you had ever seen from him before. “I would have been shot with that arrow if you hadn’t pushed me.” 

“I do not owe the Red God your death,” Jaqen said, putting his arms under you and picking you up, armor and all. You winced at the movement, still holding your head. “I will not let him have it until the time is right.” 

“I feel a little dizzy, Jaqen,” you said, though that was an understatement. The world was spinning, and he was spinning too. You closed your eyes again to keep yourself from growing sick, though that didn’t help the vertigo. He managed to move as stealthily as ever, while keeping his stance solid. You weren’t being jostled around inside of his arms. And then, to your surprise, you found yourself lying on soft, sweet-smelling hay.  

You opened your eyes to see that you were somehow in a cart, and Jaqen was beside you. He had changed his clothes, into softer linens, no longer looking like a soldier. He pressed his finger to your lips, to stop you from speaking. 

“I cannot apologize enough,” he said, looking deep into your eyes. “I never meant to hurt you. Never you.” 

“Ja-” You started, but he pressed his finger a little rougher against your lips, stopping you. 

“Seeing you hurt - it makes me ... it makes me want to rage against the Red God, for even attempting to take you. It is blasphemy, but I cannot help myself. I cannot help myself. Not a man-”  

He looked out the back of the cart, at the road that you were on. You didn’t question whose cart you were in, or who was driving, where you were going, how Jaqen had convinced them to let you both on. All of those details were unimportant. All you could focus on, or tried to focus on as the world was spinning, were his eyes.  

“I do not know when I became I - but it is because of you,” he said, his voice softer than anything that you had ever heard before. Like velvet. You could feel it like a texture over your skin. “A man has become ... a man who loves you.” 

Your breath caught in your throat - if you even had any breath left. It felt like it had been pushed out of your lungs, and then all of a sudden, bellowed back in, making you breathe in deeply. A look of concern came over his face and he lightly started to look over your wound again, moving the hay beneath you to get a better view.  

“It’s okay - I’m okay,” You tried to convince him, reaching up to his arm to stop him from touching the wound, from poking around it. That wasn’t your focus either. “Who are you now, tell me again.” 

“A man in love,” he said, more resolutely this time, like he believed it rather than realized it. 

“Ask me,” you said, weakly. His eyebrow raised at you and so you nodded at him slightly, trying to get him to do the same.  

“Who are you?” He asked, in the exact same tone that he had when he asked you in the castle days ago. You had given him all the details of a false identity back then. A fake name. A fake life. A fake dead wife and children. But what you were going to say now was going to be the truth, the whole truth. 

“A woman in love.” You answered him. 

His coarse fingers skimmed over your forehead, caressing it in a way he made sure was nowhere near the wound on your head. And then he lowered himself down and kissed it, his lips chapped and dry but felt wonderful, nonetheless.  

“We could be somebodies,” You whispered, feeling the energy draining out of you. “When I wake up - we could be somebodies together.” 

“I would enjoy that,” he said, his own voice softer than touch. “When you wake up.” 

“When I ... wake up...” You said again, before everything went black. 

[marthawrites]

Only A Scratch

Aemond Targaryen x fem reader

Word count: 3.4k+

About: Aemond requests you, a healer who has tended to his wounds before, to accompany him on a trip to Duskendale.

Includes: One bed trope! A more balanced mix of plot and porn featuring elements of mean!Aemond, injury, dick sucking, cockslapping, roughness, mild manhandling, mild degradation, unprotected vaginal sex, and mentions of fem receiving oral sex

Note: Hello lovely reader! This story is based on a request from @babyaemond with the quote of "you know what your problem is?" with our favorite one-eyed war criminal. Thank you, Chris ily! 💖 I had an absolute blast writing this and I hope you like it too! As always, reader is non-descript. Please, enjoy!

-

The realm might not believe it, perhaps not even the occupants and workers of the Red Keep would believe it, but, Aemond Targaryen was a momma's boy. He loved and respected his mother more than anyone else in all the kingdoms. With her nameday coming up, Aemond wanted to get her something extra special.

One afternoon while visiting Helaena during her embroidery time – little niece and nephews playing with him in the middle of the floor – he brought the idea up to his sister. 

"I think that a lovely idea, Aemond. You fetching Duskendale's greatest painter? Mother will hang the portrait somewhere everyone can see," Helaena replied with bright eyes. "And they have those mollusks who produce the most dazzling pearls. You can't go all that way and not get her jewelry!"

Aemond smiled. Helaena and her children were the rare people to draw genuine emotion from the prince. "I will pick something in your honor. Your gift to mother."

"And Aegon?" She asked.

"Aegon won't get any credit for these gifts. He wouldn't even be able to keep the secret, much less add to the surprise."

The princess giggled; unguarded in the company of her family.

-

To say receiving the dragon prince's offer was a surprise would be a vast understatement. He wanted you to go along on this trip with him? Out of all the healers and maesters? Even if you wanted to, you could not tell him no. Bewilderment buzzed around you as you rode out of King's Landing on horseback with him, Ser Arryk, and Ser Erryk.

It wouldn't be a long trip. Perhaps a week, there and back, with some leisure time to enjoy the city when you arrived. 

The twins were a skilled and respectful pair. You felt safe with them. You wondered, mind idly wandering as the twins led the way out of King's Landing, if you were Aemond's first pick for an accompanying medic. Fog rolled up from the sea and blanketed everything with a haunting gray. If it weren't for golden ways of sun piercing through clouds and fog like javelins it would be considerably creepy. Rays brought out your natural coloring, and when you turned to look across your shoulder to prince Aemond he looked wholly regal: silver hair shimmering, riding garb decorated with his House's sigil (as if anyone would need reminded who he was), breath hanging in the chilly morning air like he truly breathed smoke.

He felt you looking at him. "I don't need two eyes to see you staring so hard, girl," he said, turning the full attention of his single eye to you. Lilac. It nearly glowed in the foggy subdued brightness.

"Apologies, your Grace," you said with a guilty little grin. "The last time I saw you I was bandaging your newly stitched thigh. A much different sight than what I have of you now. You clean up well," you said, tiny smirk not leaving the outermost corners of your mouth. "Nasty cut it was… how did it heal?"

His face remained skillfully blank. There could have been a dozen emotions hidden behind that perfected poise; from his posture to the way he held the natural shape of his bowed mouth, he didn't allow you a glimpse into how your words affected him. "It healed well."

"I'm pleased to know I made such an impression that you'd request me to join you on this journey. An honor, truly, my prince," you said with quiet pride.

"There are two women in court who are heavy with babes. Both will be making their entrance into the world and day now. None of the maesters would risk leaving them," he replied with an edge of curtness, words clipped and even. "It was only then I considered you."

Ouch. "Oh," you said, a little taken back. "Well, I still stand by what I said," you added, trying your best to deflect the sting his words gave you.

"Hm," he hummed, smug. It was his turn to smirk, now.

The rest of that first day’s ride went relatively smooth and uneventful. That is, until Aemond got bucked off his horse. It was a miracle you were able to stay on yours! The twins’ horses, while still terribly frightened, appeared to be of a more mellow mind for they were able to be soothed while Arryk scouted ahead to see what might have caused the fright. You dared not leave yours during the ordeal in case you needed to get a galloping headstart. Tension hung in the air until Arryk came back. “A black bear is perhaps a quarter mile away,” he said upon arriving. “I didn’t see any cubs and the beast seemed unbothered by me. It was gorging on berries. Are you alright, my prince?”

Luckily Aemond was able to break his fall. Unfortunately it came at the cost of landing on his forearm upon a ridiculously sharp rock. A jagged cut ripped through his riding gear and into his leanly muscled flesh. You had helped wrap it with a clean linen bandage for now, but crimson bloomed beneath the binding. He would likely need stitches once all of you were settled into an inn for the night. “‘Tis only a scratch. Let’s get to the next town before nightfall, yeah?”

Arryk stole a glance with you, and then his brother, and you once more before nodding to Aemond. "A scratch," his eyes had silently said to you; a flash of sarcasm gone quicker than a blink.

The next town on the road to Duskendale was small and hardly worth mentioning on a map. Climbing roses in full bloom covered the inn's facade making it quaint and homely alike; their heady aroma lingered heavily and you wished you could bottle the fragrance. Echos of the scent followed you inside and mingled with savory foodsmells of dinner. 

"'Fraid we're about full t'night. I hope you all don't want separate rooms," a middle-aged man with wild eyebrows said from behind the bar. He leaned on it as he looked all of you over. "Ain't seen one of you Targaryens around in awhile. Pleasure ta have you, Prince Aemond. Now, what can I do for you lot?"

"Three rooms and dinner for everyone. That's all," Aemond replied as he produced payment for the innkeep.

Turning, the man inspected what keys were left. "Hmm… I have only two rooms available." Pulling the keys from their hooks he handed them over. "One bed in each of 'em."

Yet another tense silence fell over the group. The unmistakable tingle of a blush rushed to your face. Shit shit shit.

"We need three. Surely you can kick someone out for the night," Aemond said a bit too sharply, fingers reaching for another few coins to bribe the man.

"Ha!" He guffawed. "No can do. Prince or no, I have a good reputation and I don't intend on breakin' it."

The twins shared an amused glance and you wanted to die.

"Fine," Aemond said as he took the keys and tossed one set to Arryk and Erryk. "See you at first light to break fast before leaving."

You followed Aemond into the room you'd be sharing for the night. One bed. You hoped it was a big one.

Once inside, any hope of surviving the night with all your sanity and wit vanished in an instant. The bed was tiny. And, as if things could get any worse, there was only one pillow and blanket. Surely Prince Aemond Targaryen never considered this happening.

Tension crackled between you two and you wanted to jump out the equally tiny window and run all the way back to King’s Landing. "At… at least neither of us will be cold in the middle of the night?" You half-stammered, trying, feebly, to break the silence.

"You better not snore, girl." He flashed you an icy glare but the smirk of his mouth spoke to something else. Amusement? A challenge? "I'm going to bathe."

While he was gone you were left to stew on the current predicament. Ever since you first laid eyes on the young prince he never left your brain. To you, he was unbearably dashing and roguishly handsome. He was cold, cruel (according to rumors), and smug in a way that made you want to strangle him and drown him in kisses alike. Over the last year or so you'd helped tend to his wounds a few different times, and each time you left with more butterflies in your belly than before. They said his kin were closer to Gods than men, and you believed it.

After hardly eating during the day you were half-starved. You ate your dinner while he was still gone, and left for the women's side of the bathing quarter before he returned. In your experience not all inn's had the space for a proper bath – you weren’t going to pass this up. 

Upon returning – clean, refreshed, and still warm from the bath – you saw Aemond laying on the bed in his nightclothes with his uninjured arm tucked behind his head. It was stupid – absolutely fucking stupid – how handsome he looked in such a regular position. He was all long, and lean, and sharp angles. You wondered if he housed any softness within himself. He'd got a fire going in the small mantle and it crackled peacefully. Light and shadows accentuated the natural lines of his chiseled face, eyepatch practically orange in the glow. After a moment of awkwardly fumbling with your damp hair, you asked, "how's your arm?"

"'Twas only a scratch. I'm fine," he answered, making no move to shift his position to make more room for you on the bed.

"You're lying. It bled through your bandage on the way here," you retorted, squinting at him suspiciously.

He sighed. "And now it's done bleeding."

Turning, you double checked the latch on the door. Sure of the lock you turned back to Aemond. "Can I at least see it?"

"No."

"Please?"

"Are you deaf, or daft?"

It was your turn to glare at him. "You know, I never truly believed the rumors of you being cruel." You threw a cloth you’d used to help dry your hair onto the table as you stepped, firmly and deliberately, across the small room to the bed. "But now I believe it. You know what your problem is? You are rude." Without allowing yourself to process what you were doing – and not giving him a moment to, either – you were straddling over his lap. Demanding. Determination hardened your features. "Let me see it."

Aemond tensed beneath you and the pupil of his eye swelled. He wasn't expecting this. His jaw feathered as the hand behind his head immediately lunged forward to grab your throat. Squeezing gently, warningly, he smirked. "And you know what your problem is? You are an insolent brat." Your eyes softened to those of a doe and it sent his cock twitching beneath your thinly covered center. "Mayhap you forget who you are speaking to, girl."

Breath shuddered from your lungs. You felt him beneath you and it instantly sent fire rolling through your belly. Desire. Lust. So easily he turned your irritation to something else entirely. "I only want to check on it," you said against his careful grasp, trying your best to appear innocent.

He laughed. "Climbing on my lap like this I think you want something else. Tell me… what more does this bratty little mouth do?" With his question he slowly released his hold from your throat, thumb trailing across the softness of your bottom lip. The darkness of his eye glinted when he heard a faint whimper tickle up through your chest. "You'll have to be louder than that…"

Without having to be told you grazed your tongue along his curious thumb, pulse hammering behind your ribs and between your legs alike. Could he feel how hot you were? Boldness coursed through your blood. "Your Grace…," you simpered, looking at him with dazed eyes. "I've wanted you for so long." You dared to nip the tip of his thumb, gently rolling your tongue beneath it. He tasted clean with hints of wood and smoke from stoking the fire. It made you ache.

"I've other things that need tending to, now. Perhaps if you play by my rules I'll play by yours," he proclaimed, pushing his digit further into your mouth. He hissed quietly with the sensation. Greed and need simmered in his chest, threatening to boil over. You weren’t even doing anything and yet you still drove him near wild.

Your hands spread across his chest. “Those are fair terms,” you said with a playful tilt of your head. Your eyes roamed over his throat and what was exposed of his collarbone. Sleek, pale, warm. He was so warm. How could he be when it was so chilly? You unlaced the lazily tied strings of his cotton sleep shirt, fingernails gently scratching down his front. You smiled when he hissed another inward breath. Beneath you, he neared full hardness. “Needy prince…,” you crooned, sliding from his lap as elegantly as you could so you were laying between his legs. You stroked along his cock through his cotton sleep pants, teasing. “Perhaps Targarenys are closer to men than Gods after all.”

"I like you better with something in your mouth," he said, tutting, as he shifted his legs a bit to give you more room. Now he moved, you thought, how generous of him.

Vibrating with your own need and impatience, you unlaced the front of his pants and tugged them down just enough for his cock to spring free. You gasped, satisfied. "So big, your Grace." He had a lovely cock. Truly. It was hot and solid in your hand when you stroked it, head blushed and swollen without you even having to tug downwards on his length. 

You'd be lying if you didn't secretly hope something like this would happen with the tension of sharing a bed and room. But this? You licked up the underside of his shaft, wrapping your lips around his tip, sucking, and moaned at the sensation and taste.

Aemond groaned. "Is this what all you little medics do, hm? Tend to broken men before swallowing their cock?" He taunted, glaring at you triumphantly, mouth parted in silent bliss.

Instead of answering him verbally, you took more of his length into your wanting mouth. Flattening your tongue against him allowed you to hollow your cheeks. You looked up at him all the while, basking in the way his features changed; the way he somehow tensed and relaxed at the same time. You dragged your mouth up until only his sensitive head was wrapped by your lips, then down, lower, and up again.

"Fuck…," he groaned, eye rolling closed. One hand gripped into the thin faded sheets while his other moved to your damp hair. He threaded his fingers through it, gripping, tugging, just slight. 

Your eyelids trembled as a needy whine broke free from your lips. He popped free from your mouth with the noise. You chased his cockhead; wanton. Saliva built in your mouth and the sounds of you lavishing his cock were borderline obscene. You willingly choked on him; you throbbed as you squeezed your thighs together.

He grinned when you came up for air. His hand unfurled from the bedclothes and moved to the base of his length. He gripped himself and held your head still by your hair, expression widening with smug pride. He smacked his cock against the side of your face, traces of your saliva shiny on your skin. "Who knew my favorite little healer was such a whore, too," he purred. A second and third series of smacks followed. 

Bolts of lust jolted right to your core. You clenched around nothing; arousal gushing from you like syrup. "Aemond…," you gasped, vision hazy. "Please," you begged, unsure what you were truly begging for.

Him. Just him. Whatever he would give you.

"Such a pretty sound from your lips," he said, darkly and adoringly, as he delivered a final slap of his cock to the silky skin of your mouth. He leaned forward and grabbed you by the sides of your arms, pulling you up so you were nearly nose to nose. Without even looking he raked the hems of your sleep gown up while simultaneously yanking your smallclothes down. His fingers slid up your folds, testing your arousal. What he felt sent the entirety of his manhood aching. 

He had to be inside you. Now. 

"This little cunny is soaking. I don't even have to prepare you," he growled, shoving a long finger up into you without hesitation.

You might have peaked from that alone if he'd kept his digit inside you. If he pumped it. If he added a second. But, no, the prince did neither. When he pulled it from you he instantly brought it to his mouth and smeared your slick across his tongue. He smirked and you were sure you'd never been so desperate in your life.

Once again he gripped the sides of your arms and pushed you down into the old used mattress. He maneuvered behind you with ease. True to his word he didn't have to prepare you so he didn't. The young dragon prince guided himself right to your dripping center and eased forward. 

You arched deeper beneath him, supporting yourself on your knees while propping your ass up as much as you could. The stretch your body yielded to his sizable intrusion was glorious. You moaned, barely able to bite it back as he buried all of his rigid inches into your core. When he pulled back to snap his hips into you, you cried out his name.

"Be a good girl and shut up. Unless you want everyone in this inn to know what's going on in here," he said huskily behind you, the tremble in his voice betraying his outwardly restraint.

You tried to be quiet. You really did. But his hand holding the hair at the nape of your neck, and the lewd slaps of your smacking skin, and the pant of his breaths, had you wild with bliss and excitement. "So good… fuck! Aemond…! S-so good," you whimpered, body becoming lighter by the second.

The half babbled praises from your pretty mouth had the prince soaring. He gripped harshly onto one of your hips while the fingers of the other snaked beneath your pelvis to work your clit. "Wanna eat this pretty cunt 'til you're crying, too. Will you let me?"

"Please! Yes, yes, yes please," you answered as if in prayer.

His pace quickened, the angle of his strokes hitting you deep and hard, cockhead dragging and battering against that wonderful patch of nerves inside your walls. Leaning forward, his silken hair tickled your back. He bit into your shoulder, harshly drawing your flesh between his teeth so he could mark you.

You squirmed beneath him. Gasping, you basked in the sharp sensation of his teeth. It was the final thing you needed to lose yourself to the euphoria.

"Give it to me," Aemond growled in your ear. "Give your Prince your pleasure. Squeeze my cock like the little whore you are."

You did.

He fucked you through it, chasing his own high all the while. When you became too loud he turned your face into the mattress to muffle your noises. It helped. It also made all those sounds all the sweeter. For Aemond, it was the final thing he needed to lose himself as well. With a groan from deep within his chest, he pulled out of you at the last second and released his spend all over your back. It shone upon your skin. He couldn't help but admire it and he had half a mind to make you sleep with it on your back; marking you with his teeth and scent alike.

Slowly, you both came down from the natural high of orgasm. That cloth you brought in earlier was put to good use. 

"I don't mind that the bed is so small, now," you said as you both got comfortable beneath the blanket. Laying on your sides seemed the best way; him, the big spoon.

"Me either," he replied, a grin audible in his voice.

You found yourself no longer caring about the state of his arm. Not with the way it laid over your waist and rested up between your breasts. He held you against him.

Sleep came easy. 

When you woke up to Aemond's morning-stiff cock against your back you knew you had to find a reason to share a room with him for every night of the journey.

He would make it happen, he told himself, as he drew a lovely climax from you with his mouth before burying himself into you once again. All, before dawn cracked over the horizon.

-

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

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