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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 4 months ago

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Chapter 2: What A Great Freakin’ Way To Start The Day

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you never expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you’re around him the more you hate him, but you can’t help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team. (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy,

Word Count: 5.2K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), swearing, mentions of sex, sexual innuendo, sexual tension. Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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The morning begins the same way it always does, with your neighbor Mike blasting "I Will Always Love You" in his apartment at exactly 8 am just as he had each day since you met two years ago. It was the only constant in your life, but at least you didn't have to use an alarm clock anymore. The sound of Mike belting out the lyrics at the top of his lungs was enough to wake everyone in the whole building, including the people on the eighth floor, five stories above him.

But because Mike bought the super’s probably illegally made cologne and because the super was dating Mike’s mother, something that made you regret supe hearing very much, it never stopped despite the numerous complaints.

Then again it was Annie's favorite thing about sleeping over, she liked to scream the lyrics back at the wall and jump on your bed like a crazy banshee. Honestly you hoped that it would stop after Ben had pretended to be your boyfriend, that Mike would finally figure it out and give up.

Guess not.

You sit up in your bed, stretching your hands over your head while humming the chorus under your breath, but you were more of an ABBA fan. If Mike had decided to serenade you with "Take A Chance On Me" or even Aretha Franklin's "You're All I Need to Get By," you might have looked at him differently.

The memory of the dream of his mullet smothering you in your sleep momentarily passes over your mind, causing a shudder to travel down your spine. Or maybe not.

Your bedroom was similar to your living room, covered in plants. Trailing jasmine and bougainvillea blanketed the wall behind your bed in deep red and white, budding lavender, lilac, and honeysuckle sat in pots along the top of your dresser, and a blush colored rose bush, that never went out of bloom, stood proudly in the corner. The only difference was that there were two large piles of books almost as tall as your ceiling, some old some new, braced beside the rose bush like Roman columns. You kept trying to remember to buy a bookshelf, but each time you thought about going to pick one up, Butcher usually called and asked you to help out. Both piles were covered almost completely in pothos and more hung from the brick walls above your only window, that opened the floor length pale yellow curtains with a flick of your hand.

An annoyed purring sound greets your ears as the honeyed light from the now open window wisps over your covers. Bean, your cat, stalks up from the end of the bed, his yellowed eyes narrowed with annoyance at being woken up so early while his charcoal gray coat turns lighter in the brilliant sunlight. Last night he had been in your bedroom when you got home, which meant that he hadn't been around Ben when he came in.

A good thing, because Bean hated just about everyone except Butcher, which you thought was weird. But whenever Butcher dropped by to talk to you Bean always came over to look for rubs, while hissing at anyone who tried to interrupt them. Hughie was actually afraid of Bean, and because Bean was a cat he immediately picked up on this and purposely would jump on the couch next to Annie so Hughie couldn't sit there, Bean also followed after Hughie to the bathroom and waited outside the door to swipe at his ankles whenever he would come out.

But you didn't love him any less.

He puts his paw on your thigh lightly extending his claws to get your attention.

"Oh are you talking to me now?" You smile, rubbing him behind the ears. "I thought you were angry because I woke you up?"

He purrs and pushes his chunky gray head against your hand, but startles when the song switches to "My Heart Will Go On" which causes Mike's mother to join in to his karaoke session.

I'd move if my apartment wasn't so damn cheap.

"Maybe they should take the show on the road. Huh buddy?"

Bean purrs his response while pushing his head further into your hand.

His mom wasn't that bad of a singer, in fact, you thought that you remembered eavesdropping on a conversation between her and the super when she talked about a career as a cabaret singer a while ago.

"Come on, let's see if Gramps killed any of my plants." You smile down at your cat. "If he did I'm going to turn him into a tree."

Bean purrs in agreement.

You get out of bed, adjusting your shirt back down over your shorts before walking to the door with Bean following behind you. You step out into the cool hallway, with more enthusiasm than usual as you try to escape the butchering of the Titanic's soundtrack and collide into something warm and wet.

It takes you exactly seven seconds to realize that the warm, wet, thing that your face is currently stuck to, is in-fact Ben's chest, his shirtless chest. Why he's standing in the hallway outside your door, soaking wet and wearing a towel you have no idea. All you know is that your face is physically laying against the warm flesh of his pectoral muscles.

"Why are you NAKED?" You scream as you peel yourself off of him and turn your gaze away. Your face felt so warm that it was like you'd been standing in front of a volcano for too long and you were sure that you had blushed to the roots of your hair.

You'd only seen him without his shirt on once, when the door to his bedroom was cracked at the apartment he shared with the rest of the group. But it was from the back and you had been walking by to go to the bathroom, and you hadn't looked…

Well, you may have stopped for a second to admire the powerful muscles on his muscular back and maybe thought about waiting for him to turn around so you could see if the front was as good as the back… but you hadn't.

And he certainly hadn't been soaking wet then, and it made you hate him more now, because no one should look as good as he does soaking wet. You personally knew that you looked like a drowned poodle whenever you stepped out of the shower, but him? Soldier Boy looks like he just finished filming a shampoo commercial.

You could see it in your head, him standing under a crystal blue waterfall with the water splashing against weathered rocks before running through his soft brown hair, curving around his broad shoulders, down his toned stomach straight down to his-

NO. Not gonna go there. You could feel your skin heating in embarrassment, almost as if you thought he could read your mind.

"I'm not naked doll, I mean I could be if you wanted me to." He smirks as he hears your heartbeat begin to pick up and reaches for the end of his towel. The towel that was almost too small to wrap around his waist and left very little to the imagination.

"NO!" You shout holding up a hand to stop him, but again brush the front of his chest.

Fuck, you could zest a lemon on those abs.

"Are you sure?" Ben smiles wider, taking a step forward. He's so close that you can smell your grapefruit mint shampoo on him and feel the humidity and warmth of his body as he stands there. For some reason the fact that he used your shampoo, and smelled like your soap, made you feel warm and tingly. It was almost hypnotic. You hated how much you liked it. "Because you're turning that cute little red color you always do whenever I'm around, and your heartbeat is kinda fast."

"No. I don't." You grit your teeth together. "Why are you standing outside of my door naked?"

"Maybe I was waiting for you to come out." His hand presses against the doorway next to your head. "You know, I already took a shower, but if you wanted I'd be happy to get back in with you."

"No thanks. I don't need a shower and I wouldn't shower with you if it was the last shower on earth and I hadn't bathed in forty years." You purse your lips. "Oh right, that happened to you."

Ben frowns at your mention of his time in Russia. You didn't often tease him about being trapped in a lab, you knew that it was a sore spot for him. Plus you'd seen the footage of exactly what those doctors did to him and it was enough to make you want to book a one way ticket to Russia and personally show them what happened when a tree got shoved up your ass.

You open your mouth to apologize.

"I was going to ask if you have any other clothes here. Mine are still wet from last night." He raises an eyebrow, but the humor is gone from his eyes.

"Oh. Um. I can take a look." You turn and walk into your bedroom, trying not to feel awkward about bringing up the lab.

He was a jerk, but he didn't deserve a reminder of how shitty the last forty years have been.

Truthfully, you weren't sure if you had anything that would fit him. Ben was a lot bigger than you, taller and broader. You usually did wear things that were a little big for you, but you didn't think that Ben would fit in any of them.

Maybe I have something from when my brother was here last time.

Darren often dropped by when he was in the city visiting his friends or had a new "business" venture. The ones that never seemed to last and the friends that always seemed happy to spend the moan you "loaned" him for his "best idea yet" as he always phrased it. But he hadn't been by in at least a year.

"It's really green in here too." You hear Ben say under his breath.

You didn't think that he was going to follow you into your room, you thought he was going to stay in the hallway, but no, he had followed you. And he made the room feel even smaller than it was with his broad shoulders and over six foot stature.

The sunlight from the window glinted off his still wet chest and it made your throat uncomfortably tight. For the love of chocolate pudding, WHY does he look so good all the time?

"You can wait in the hall-"

"Wanted to see your bedroom." He smirks. "Though I think that you wanted to show it to me last night-"

You ignore him and turn back to your chest of drawers while Mike and his mother switch to "What Makes You Beautiful" by One Direction. You wince as they begin.

"Do they always do that?" Ben asks.

"Yep. Since I moved in." You sigh, shuffling through your t-shirts.

"He's really got it bad Sweetheart. Maybe you should throw him a bone. Kinda seems like the poor guy needs to get some ass-"

"If it's any of your business- which it's not- I do not like him that way."

"Well they're a little loud." You feel Ben take a step closer to you. "But I bet you and I could give them a run for their money. We are in your bedroom after all, might as well make the most of it."

"I didn't know that you liked Karaoke. I'll keep that in mind for you 105th birthday party."

"What? No I meant-"

Bean purrs loudly from his position on your bed and you wait for the telltale sound of Ben shooing him away when Bean tries to puncture Ben's impenetrable skin with his claws, but it doesn't come.

You glance over your shoulder. Are you kidding me?

Bean is sitting on your white plush comforter, rubbing up against Ben's hand, purring while Ben scratches him behind the ears.

Traitor.

"Didn't know you had a cat." Ben says continuing to stroke his hand down Bean's spine, who stands up and turns so Ben can have a better angle.

"I didn't peg you for a cat person. Kinda ruins the whole all-American Man image you have going on."

He shrugs. "I like dogs more, but I don't hate cats. Usually they don't like me very much."

"I wonder why that is." You grumble watching Bean lean into Ben's hand again. "His name is Bean."

"Bean? Why?"

"Because when I got him I was trying to grow green beans in the linen closet and he would sit outside the door and screech until I gave him a green bean to play with."

"You were trying to grow green beans in the linen closet?"

"Yeah. Seemed like a good idea, but they like the bathroom more-" You finally find the oversized Led Zeppelin shirt your brother left the last time he crashed at your apartment and a pair of jeans. "A lot of my plants like the bathroom more actually."

"I was going to ask you why the bathroom floor and wall was squishy."

"It's moss. It thrives in humid environments." You hold out the clothes for him.

"Uh-huh." He frowns at the clothes for a minute. "So you're saying you wouldn't want a guy to serenade you like that?" Ben nods his head towards your bedroom wall, just as Mike and his mother begin to belt out the chorus. "Thought girls liked sappy shit."

"I'm not a fan of One Direction."

"Right. You like ABBA more." Ben turns towards your door to go back to the bathroom to change.

Shock momentarily spikes in your chest. "How did you know that?"

He freezes as if you caught him doing something bad, turning slightly towards you. "Um- well, you hum their songs a lot."

"When?" You cross your arms over your chest.

"Whenever you're on stake outs. Sometimes when you're reading those files or waiting for Annie at the apartment." He shrugs. “When you were walking last night you were humming ‘Fernando.’"

He noticed that?

"How long exactly were you following me?"

"Long enough." He raises an eyebrow. "Are you trying to keep me talking because you want me to change in here? Because I would be more than happy to drop this towel and show you what a real man looks like Sweetheart."

"Don't flatter yourself Gramps. If you drop that towel the only thing that'll happen is Bean will think you brought him a green bean to play with." You roll your eyes. "Now get out of my room. I have to change."

Ben begins to say something, but the vines hanging above the door push him out into the hall and shut the door behind him.

That felt good.

After you put on a white t-shirt, your favorite pair of jean overalls and your dark green converse, you make your way out into the living room. Ben is there, lounging on your couch like he owns it. He’s wearing the jeans and t-shirt you gave him, but you can't help but notice how the clothes are just a little too small for him. The way his muscles pull at the t-shirt, the way the jeans hug his thighs and butt-

He's getting way too comfortable here. You think to yourself to avoid the thought of how good he looks on your couch. How it almost feels natural that he's sitting here in your living room, inhabiting your space.

"So what's for breakfast doll face?" He leans his head back to gaze at you with a mischievous smile that makes a warm tingle travel down the length of your spine.

"Well, I'm going to have oatmeal and you're going to have whatever you want I guess?"

His eyes darken. "Whatever I want?"

"Calm down Gramps I meant that there's cereal in the cabinet." You roll your eyes to avoid thinking about the kiss last night and then thinking about how it felt for your body to be pressed against his in the hallway when you ran into him. Which inevitably leads back to the waterfall fantasy and-

No. No. Not going to do that. Not with him. He's just good at getting women into bed, he doesn't care about you. You think about how he remembered that you liked ABBA. That doesn't mean anything. He doesn't see me as anything more than a conquest and he probably remembered that because he's changing tactics and trying not to act like a creep.

“You’re not going to pour me a bowl?” His smirk pulls down in an attractive pout.

“I think it’s simple enough for your little brain to do.” You don’t turn around from the kitchen cabinets, grabbing a raspberry from the refrigerator and popping it in your mouth. For some reason you noticed that whatever you grew tasted better than anything you bought at the grocery store. You hoped that it didn’t mean that your powers supercharged whatever you grew and that it was actually radioactive or something.

Because that’s exactly what I need, to turn bright green.

“There’s nothing little about me doll.”

“Can’t you ever have a conversation with someone without it revolving around sex?” You grumble banging around in your cabinets to find your instant oatmeal.

It was a valid point and you were tired of getting whiplash every time Ben acted caring and then flipping back to horny manchild.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Ben laughs. He stands from the couch and makes his way into your kitchen.

It was hard not to notice how small each room in your apartment looked with him in it. His head was only a foot below the ceiling, not to mention the kitchen was only composed of six cabinets, a small sink, a microwave shoved into a corner, a stove top, and a refrigerator that only came up to Ben’s shoulders. Your bathroom was worse, sometimes the shower was small even for you and you didn’t know how Ben fit in there.

He probably had to duck down to stand under the shower head.

And then as you thought that, the image of Ben standing under a waterfall comes creeping back, making the strawberry plant on top of the fridge, the raspberry vines, and the blackberry vines covering your refridgerator burst into bloom.

Thankfully Ben didn’t notice, because he was rooting through the white top cabinet in the corner for one of the cereal boxes.

I’d never hear the end of it if he saw that happen.

You glare at the plants in question, eyes shifting to a deep green as the flowers develop into fresh fruit to cover your slip.

Ben pulls out a box of Lucky Charms, but frowns at Lucky on the front cover, who is throwing a handful of marshmallow charms into the air around him.

Guess he's not a fan.

“If I’d known you were going to sleep on my couch I would have gotten Bran flakes and prunes for you.” You smirk as you pour water over the oats in the bowl before placing it in the microwave to cook. “I know people your age need that kind of thing sometimes. Gets the bowel moving.”

“Make fun of my age all you want.” Ben steps around you to grab the almost empty bottle of milk from your refrigerator. “One day you’ll be happy to find out just how experienced I am.”

“Keep dreaming.”

His dark eyes meet yours. “You’re all I dream about baby.”

You can feel his breath on the side of your neck from how close he is to you, the kitchen seems smaller than it ever has, and he leans forward, sensing your hesitation. One of his hands goes on the kitchen counter to your right, the other places the milk down and then braces on the counter to your left caging you against him.

“Do any of your lines actually work?” You say, throat tight.

“You’d be surprised.” He smirks wider, green eyes sliding up and down your body.

The air in the kitchen electrifies, something passing through the air between the two of you that makes you feel like your heart is going to burst out of your chest. His eyes are softer green now, reminding you of the color of fresh leaves on an oak tree in spring, bright, strong, and full of life. His body is pressed gently against yours, the strong muscles of his abdomen laying on your hips, muscular arms making sure that you don't walk away.

You try not to think again about how good he looks in your apartment, how calm and relaxed he seems when he’s away from Butcher and not wearing his uniform.

Standing here in your apartment, he looked normal, human. Sometimes it was hard to remember that you were, when you could do what you did, when you saw him get hit with a car and shove it away with one hand.

He was still ridiculously attractive, the kind of attractive that you’d read in romance novels and in classic Roman literature, the kind of beautiful that people wrote poetry about, the kind of ruggedly handsome that made smart girls stupid.

You were really feeling that last one. Because you were desperately trying to hold on to your dream of being with someone that understood every part of you, but Ben was making it hard.

It wasn’t that the idea of sleeping with him was terrible. It wasn’t. It was far from terrible it was the idea of having sex without feelings that you didn’t like. You didn’t want to sleep with him because you knew that he only saw you as something to be possessed not as an equal or someone he cared about. Soldier Boy only cared about himself, that was apparent.

He’s only interested in you because you haven’t given in. You think to yourself. It's all about the thrill of the chase, nothing else. I'm worth more than that. I'm worth more than one night.

“In fact, I think it’s working on you doll.” Ben leans down towards you so close you can feel his words in the air between your faces, his eyes searching yours as if waiting for you to say no.

That made you pause. Ben didn’t seem to be the type of man who was patient. You’d walked in on him making out with numerous women on the couch back at the apartment he shared with the rest of the team, saw how he took control, saw how he didn’t seem to wait for them to say no or really say anything at all. Not to mention one time when you walked into the shared apartment and could hear Ben with one of his "dates" in his bedroom. Nothing about that seemed patient at all.

But this Ben standing in your kitchen was different. He was almost smiling, dark hair still damp from the shower curling on his forehead, the t-shirt damp around the collar, jeans a dark blue, and the smell of your shampoo fills your senses again all over again. It made you wish for this person all the time. The one that you could see yourself falling in love with, not the racist, sexist, and inappropriate jerk that seemed to dominate his persona at all other parts of the day.

Funny, the only time you’d ever seen Ben like this, was when the two of you were alone- well sometimes- other times he annoyed you without end and made you want to jump out a window.

But why? Why only around me?

The feeling in your chest grows. It jumps from synapse to synapse, pulses along your skin, buzzes in your blood, tangles through your hair, and radiates through the air like a sound wave. Your eyes drift down to his lips remembering exactly what it was like to kiss him last night. How he seemed to consume you whole, how everything else fell away, how Ben curled himself around you, how he-

Your cell phone rings, breaking through the moment, and making you remember exactly why you didn’t want to give in to Ben and remember the kind of person he was.

You push him away and pull your cellphone out of your pocket. Butcher's photo and name appear on the screen.

Shit.

"Hey Butch, what's up?" You look away from Ben, forcing yourself to calm your racing heart.

Ben perks up at the mention of Butcher’s name.

“Do you have any idea where Soldier Boy is?”

“Soldier Boy?”

“Seems like our blunt smoking man out of time has vanished. Been trying to text him all bloody morning.”

At least he doesn’t know that Ben is here. That’s good. I’d never hear the end of it if-

Ben snatches the phone from your hand and holds it up to his ear. “What the fuck do you want?”

The softness was gone, his eyes had hardened again, and the spell was broken. Ben was no longer relaxed, his shoulders were tensed and guarded, jaw set.

It didn’t take a genius to know that Ben didn’t like Butcher. Sometimes you wondered why Ben decided to stay.

Probably because the alternative was being frozen like Han Solo next to his son.

When Ben had knocked Homelander out, you hadn’t believed it, and despite Ben’s arguing Butcher wanted to keep Homelander a supe, and just put him on ice. You had no idea why, especially since Butcher had been gunning for him forever, but had the sneakiest suspicion that it was because of Ryan.

But you didn't blame Butcher for that, watching your father get killed in front of you seemed traumatic, not to mention Ryan was still reeling from watching his mother die.

You turn back to your microwave to pull out your bowl of oatmeal with a groan.

Now Butcher’s going to mock me endlessly about going home with Soldier Boy. We didn’t do anything! Well…

Your mind flits back to the searing kiss you shared and to five seconds ago when whatever the hell just happened.

“You want me to meet you in fucking Jersey?” Ben laughs.

You choose not to eavesdrop on the conversation, instead you busy yourself with sprinkling brown sugar onto your breakfast and plucking a few more raspberries from the vines.

“Fine.” Ben almost growls before holding out the phone to you. “He wants to talk to you.”

Of course he does. Maybe I can pretend to lose the signal with a piece of paper or a candy wrapper.

“Hello-“

“You crazy wanker.” Butcher chuckles into the phone. “Guess your night was a little more exciting than mine eh? Oi Hughie, you owe me a tener!” He shouts to Hughie who you can guess is sitting nearby.

“What? He’s with y/n! No way!” You hear Hughie shout back, muffled but there.

Damn it he’s gonna tell Annie. She's going to start sending me pictures of babies photoshopped in supe suits.

“You guys were betting that he was here?!” You shout making eye contact with Ben who only smirks before he busies himself with getting a bowl for his cereal.

“He left about two minutes after you did. Said some bullshit about a smoke break.” Butcher is smiling and you know it. “How was he? Was he as good as all the girls say?" Butcher coos on the other side of the line.

“Nothing happened-“

“Sure it didn’t Cherie!” You hear Frenchie crow. “Hopefully you got to relieve some of that tension no?”

“I hate all of you.” You grumble, and before Butcher can say anything else you hang up the phone and glare at Ben. “This is your fault.”

“What do you mean sweetheart?”

“You just had to follow me home!”

“You shouldn’t have been walking out there alone.”

“I do it all the time!”

“Not anymore.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not going to let you walk around alone in the middle of the night.”

"Like hell. I don't need a babysitter!"

"I think you do-"

"No I don't. In fact why are you still here? Why haven't you left?" You shout, snatching your bowl of oatmeal before moving to the wobbly kitchen table that you smooshed up against a window that looks out onto your fire escape.

"Because I tend to like morning sex. It's a great way to start the day. Thought you'd be interested." Ben winks as he sits across from you, barely fitting in the wooden chair.

Your phone buzzes where it sits on the table beside your bowl. When you flip it over, you see the text from Annie.

Annie: YOU SLEPT WITH SOLDIER BOY?!!!!

You: I'm not going to dignify that with a response.

Annie: That's a yes. TELL ME EVERYTHING!!!

You sigh and shovel a spoonful of oatmeal into your mouth, eyes drifting up to the top of your phone screen focusing on the time.

"SHIT! I'm late for work!" You shout before shoving as much oatmeal as you can into your mouth.

"Work?" Ben looks up from his bowl of cereal confused as you begin to run around the room.

The half-eaten bowl of oatmeal falls into the sink with a resounding crash, Bean's cat food lands haphazardly in his bright green food dish, and you practically run to your tote bag that hangs on a peg by your front door.

"I told you. I work at a plant shop." You glance back at your barren coffee maker mournfully. The thought of trying to get through the day without coffee seemed impossible, not to mention you didn’t have time to grab one on the way to work from your favorite shop just around the corner.

"I thought you were joking."

"No. Some of us have to work for a living." You run your fingers through your hair quickly pulling it back in a loose ponytail.

"You should leave your hair down." Ben says from the table watching you.

"What?"

"It's prettier when it's down."

"I don't have time for your misogynistic comments. Come on let's go."

"What?"

"I'm not going to leave you here in my apartment alone. You don't have a key."

"You could give me yours-"

"HA. No that's not going to happen. Come on." You tug on his muscular arm, trying to get him up out of the chair, but he barely moves.

“You know you could call out of work and we could spend the day in bed.” He smiles, eyes tracing your figure. “I mean you look good baby, but I think you'd look even better naked. Plus, Butcher and the rest of those fuckers already think we slept together so we might as well-“

“Not a chance Gramps. Either get up out of the chair and leave through the door or leave through the window. It’s your choice and I have no qualms with throwing you down to the street. But please don't make me do that because I can't afford a new window."

Ben rolls his eyes, but finally gets up to follow you. He actually tries to open the door for you, but you place your hand on his chest.

“Nah uh uh. Bowl in the sink. I’m not going to clean up after you.”

Ben sighs and mumbles something under his breath that’s lost in Mike’s inhuman screech of “Love on Top.”

Yeah. What a great fucking way to start the day.

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Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist for this series let me know :)

(Photos for series picture found on Pinterest)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard

@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307 @libby99hb

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro

#soldier boy x you #jensen ackles soldier boy #soldier boy #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy/ben #the boys fanfic #jensen ackles #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy fic #the boys amazon

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mydnyteraven · 10 months ago

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He’s brilliant, and also, just a dork.

Gotta wonder what it’s like being Jorge Rivera-Herrans knowing that you’re the one who wrote, “When does a ripple become a riddle wave? When does the reason become the blame? When does a man become a monster?” AND “Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves” AND “The line between naïveté and hopefulness is almost invisible”

Like, how does it feel to be THAT good with words and know that not only are they phenomenally arranged, but people love them so much that they’ve found life outside to context of their origins. Like, people are going to remember these words dude. I STILL get chills listen to Epic and I know most of the words by heart

#man has no idea how brilliant he is #freakin musical genius #and also very very silly

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twisted-confessions · 5 months ago

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Brainstorming for the Stitch event in my fanfic and I think I just came up with something brilliant that I wanna challenge more artists to try.

So we know that Lilia and Floyd kinda parallel Lilo and Stitch and that's why Stitch gets along with them so well right? Y'know who also parallel's Lilo in the event via the outifts??

FREAKIN GRIM!!!

And most art I see portrays the MC/Yuu in matching Lilo outifts but y'know who'd make more sense for MC/Yuu to represent???

THIS SURFING QUEEN!!! LILO'S SISTER, NANI, WHO TAKES ON THE ROLE OF CAREGIVER UNEXPECTEDLY BUT DOES HER DAMNDEST TO LOOK AFTER HER LITTLE SISTER AND MONSTER PET AND ENSURES THEY CAN HAVE A GOOD FUTURE WHILE DEALING WITH DAILY THREATS OF LOSING WHAT LITTLE THEY HAVE LEFT!!!

Oh yeah and who's the other two people that Stitch hangs around and gives a sweet fluffy hug? Grim and MC/Yuu. Just try to convince me that there isn't a better parallel between MC/Yuu and Nani I dare you to change my mind. The signs are all there.

SO! I'm challenging all Twst artists to draw their Yuusona in Nani inspired outfits, whether it's her swimsuit above or any of her other outfits from the movies/tv shows! The world needs more Nani love <3 Tag the artists that you want to try my challenge :)

And if any of you could, can you draw my oc in Nani inspired Tropical Wear with Stitch as well? I can't draw myself, the lovely @boopshoops designed her for me :)

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lesbiangummybearmafia · 2 years ago

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I freakin love her so much...

#kate mulgrew #captain janeway #twitter #she's brilliant #freakin love her so much #yes yes yes #elon muck shouldn't of messed with capt janeway #star trek #st voyager #captain kathryn janeway #voyager

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ylove-bandaesthetics · 1 year ago

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Bands & Monsters! ☠️🤘🏼

Au/Ra + Deuce Gorgon! 🐍

“Almost left my sunglasses at home this morning… That could have been a stone-cold disaster.”

#Submission #YOOOO!!! NOW THIS IS FREAKIN AWESOME!#Look at how brilliant the green stands out!#And I love deuce sm omg!#thank you for this #monsters and spirits and creatures oh my!#au/ra #au/ra moodboard #au/ra aesthetic #deuce gorgon #deuce gorgon moodboard #deuce gorgon aesthetic #moodboard #aesthetic #monster aesthetic #monster high

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hypnagogics · 6 months ago

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SUPERBLOOD WOLFMOON → PROLOGUE

read this first! ▪︎ playlist ▪︎ series m.list ▪︎ next chapter

☆: honestly suuuper proud of how this came out ngl, please enjoy!! art in newspaper graphic drawn by the wonderful, amazing, multi-talented, freakin' incredible @sharkthrob ♡ ◇: sfw, both start out as young teens, ends with time skip to "present day", relatively mild (at least imo...idk) violence/gory descriptions, arachnophobia warning (lol), this is also a play on the "left behind" dlc!! ;) ♧: 2.2k wc

Summer, 2035

“60, 59, 58, 57….” The ambient droning of the abandoned mall’s timeworn neon lighting hung in the air as you stood against the old, mold-scented wall, the wallpaper peeling off in chunks, counting down the seconds as your best friend ran to find a hiding place. You could hear her gleeful giggles and pitter-patter of footfalls echo off the structure’s walls while she frantically searched for an effective crevice to stow herself away in, and break her losing streak once and for all.

Unbeknownst to you, Ellie had reached the complete opposite end of the building in no time at all, stumbling upon a crater in the floor, which opened up to the basement. “Fuck’s this?” She mumbles to herself, peering inside the inky darkness of the unexplored space, her sense of danger being overshadowed by the increasing curiosity, and your progressing countdown.

She idles for a moment debating whether to go inside because if she did, she’d definitely win, but there was also the possibility of getting hurt. She chooses to believe the former regardless. Glancing back in your direction one last time to make sure you weren't cheating and spying through your fingers, she hoists herself down, grunting as she falls harshly onto the damaged linoleum tiles.

Ellie winces as she gathers herself to stand, and takes in her surroundings. A long, eerie, brick-lined corridor extends further than she can see. If she is already here, might as well check it out, she reasons.

Stale air fills her lungs almost painfully, the heavy odor of mildew making her eyes water. Through the crack above she hears you finish the countdown and yell out, “I’m gonna get you!” She coughs, collects herself and begins running into the darkness, there was no way you’d find her down here.

“Shit, shit, shit gotta hide- what the…” She reaches the end of the unfamiliar hallway, ending up in a spacious but empty room, the walls covered in some sort of graffiti. She rubs at her eyes to clear them of any debris particles floating around, and so she could fully observe her surroundings once her eyes adjusted to the absence of light.

An abnormally large rat scurries over her feet, squeaking, making her jump and withhold a startled yelp. That was close, she almost gave away her location. Continuing to walk around the space, she observes the graffiti covering the brittle, withered walls. Splashes of vibrant color in an array of abstract forms stretching on, symbols and sigils of all kinds painted within. Jagged, angular glyphs, containing profanities scrawled in deranged strokes, vulgar phallic scribblings earning an immature chuckle from the girl as she continues to inspect the space, seemingly forgetting about the game of hide and seek entirely.

She’s left breathless when she reaches a peculiar piece of graffiti separate from the bulk of the rest, staring at it with wonder. Extraordinary, brilliant hues of color were painted on a mural spanning the whole side wall of the room, with what looked like a gargantuan spider painted in the center of it all. The illustration of the web seemed to sparkle, stand out and contrast the intimidating blackness of the room, the arachnid’s limbs painted with such precision where she couldn't spot a single mistake, as if it was created with machinery or similar.

Out of the corner of her eye she spots some movement, and from the shadows emerges an iridescent spider—the exact one painted—and it crawls along the mural until it stops right in front of her at eye level. She watches as its countless peepers bore into hers, utterly transfixed, unable to look away. Its body shines, reminding her of a scarab beetle. She wonders what kind it is, it’s completely unrecognizable and foreign to her, however big of an interest in bugs she has.

A sickly dread builds in the pit of her stomach, it’s only now dawned on her just how bad of an idea this was. She silently hopes you can hear her telepathic pleas, pick up on the panicked mantras she’s whispering under her breath and come save her from the mutant creature.

Budding panic rises in her chest, paralyzing her with fear, and she can't do anything apart from watch the eight-legged beast suddenly quadruple in size with a sharp crunch of its exoskeleton snapping, thin, twiggy legs turning muscular and strong, dagger-sharp spines ripping their way through the armor-like exterior, jutting out towards every direction. It has changed form entirely, resembling something that only exists in the confines of a comic book or science fiction film.

Ellie sucks in a harsh, shaky breath through her teeth and braces herself to quickly plan an exit, but before she has the chance to begin running, the arachnid’s jaws burst open, the sharp teeth gleaming as if they were made of a metal alloy. She didn't know spiders had teeth, or made any sounds, but she swore she heard it snarl, right before it leapt forward onto her with a speed faster than sound, tackling her onto the ground.

Adrenaline courses through her veins as she wrangles the spider, shrieking as it scratches and pierces her flesh wherever it can reach. It's feral, unlike anything she's ever seen or read about, its movements inharmonious, yet simultaneously neat and calculated. She’s miraculously dodging every strike, although growing weary rather quickly.

Finally, her instincts to fight kick in, and she frantically scans the room for a makeshift weapon. She’s holding the arachnid away from her, the sharp clashing of its jaws around the air echoing off the walls. Ellie squints, and in the dark she makes out some rusted pipes sticking out of the corner of the wall, and in a burst of strength shoves the creature off of her, bolting to grab the metal. It flies and crashes against the wall with a shrill squeal, its hideous form squirming to recover from the blow.

“Goddamnit, stupid SHIT." She huffs breathlessly as she wrestles the metal, tugging with every morsel of her might to get it detach before the spider lunges again. The way she pushed it away left it stunned and bought her a mere smidgen of time to act, which she utilizes to strike the paralyzed creature. She hits it once, twice, and a third time, the lethal blow crushing it with a jarring smash.

The oversized spider’s limbs briefly twitch before stilling—oily, dark, navy blue blood pooling underneath its corpse. Ellie stands over it unsteadily, trying to catch her breath and process the fight she endured. All that against a spider. Where did that thing even come from? She didn't even wish to know at this point, and was just grateful she was alright.

She sways, before remembering why she ventured here in the first place—the game of hide and seek. You were still searching for her all around the upper floors of the mall, blissfully unaware of the chaos that just occurred below your feet. “Better get out of here.” Ellie mumbles into the dusty air, taking one last look at the ornamented walls of the room, and begins walking back to the main area where you were, emerging victorious in the game being the very last thing on her mind after all that. Even though she still achieved her goal.

With some difficulty she lifts herself out of the basement space into the main foyer of the mall, feeling fatigued, so she resorts to resting on the cool tiles momentarily to recuperate.

Meanwhile, you were growing concerned about where she was, having searched every single nook and cranny you knew of to check, with no luck whatsoever. Having a bad feeling that something had happened to her, you return to the main area where the two of you agreed to meet at the end of the game if no one won, and were bewildered to find her laying on the ground.

“Ellie, where the hell were you?” You sprint to her side, almost tripping over a stray glass shard on the floor, and fall to your knees right next to her. She’s laying on her back, with a vague smile on her face. She opens her eyes and grins at you, chuckling at the fact she got her victory after all. “Heheh, you lost.”

You’re filled with relief that she’s fine, but beyond pissed at her for worrying you so much. Sighing, you stand up and nudge her side with your shoe, sputtering, “You idiot, I thought you died or something, what were you thinking?” Her expression falls the moment she sees how upset you got, so she sits up and points to the crack in the ground, trying to explain the situation.

“I was just in there, thought I'd go in there and see what's up, since we haven't been there before, but there’s nothing interesting, just an empty storage room. I promise.” She chews on her bottom lip, feeling rather guilty she’s decided to lie straight to your face like that, but wanted to minimize your worry as much as she could. She knows you’d freak if you heard what actually happened down there, and she wanted to just forget it.

Ellie sticks out her arm for you to pull her to her feet, only now taking notice of how many nicks, cuts and scratches she acquired in the ordeal, with some bizarre puncture wounds at the center of her forearm. Did it bite her? During the fight her focus wasn't anywhere apart from the creature attacking her, so she didn't feel it happen.

You notice her injuries at the same second she does, and open your mouth to say something about it, to lecture her for being reckless, but she beats you to it by stammering out a rapid clarification. “I’m fine, getting down there was a pain in the ass. The way in and out was a little sharp, that's all. We’ll just clean these, n’ I'll put some band-aids on, y’know.”

She avoids your suspicious glare and dusts herself off. “Let’s go back, I’m tired. Gotta enjoy my win. You gonna buy me some ice cream or somethin’? Think I deserve it. I'll even be generous enough to give you a bite!” She flashes you the signature toothy grin you’ve always loved so much, distracting from any residual suspicions you have about what she was up to. And so the two of you skipped out of the abandoned mall, never to return again.

Soon after your last time there, the mall was quickly scheduled for demolition due to “unpredictable and dangerous conditions.” You never ended up asking her if she ran into some trouble while hiding in the unexplored basement area, even though it remained a question in the back of your mind that surfaced whenever you caught a glimpse of the strange scar left on her forearm. Four round welts, perfect raised circles, placed as pairs opposite each other. One day you’d make her talk, but for now all you could do was be thankful that she was still with you, whatever may have happened during that game.

Winter, 2041

taggiesssss: @elliesexual @elliesbitchvenus @kawaiibreadbouquet-blog @williamellieslilho @flowrmoth @shestheheadlights @aouiaa @bready101 @shiimer @pascals-doll @boobdrug @starlight-savegery @vqxen @yk2enyx @seraphicsentences @k1ssesworld @lasting-lover @amberputh @syrenada @deliriousrn @corpsebridenightamare @seaseasalts

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dreaisgrayte · 4 months ago

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I JUST BINGE READ ALL OF YOUR WORKS. YOU HAVE ME SCREAMING AND CRYING. The amount of detail that you put into them is MWAH the freakin chefs kiss 😘 you have been promoted to my #1, please never stop what you're doing ❤️❤️❤️

on another note, would you mind if I requested a scenario with Gojo? Maybe something about fem!y/n being from a high ranking rival clan, who the Gojo clan has despised for their entire existence. Maybe y/n has always had a crush on satoru ever since they first saw each other as kids, but since they were raised to hate each other it never went any further than a small lil crush. but now they're adults and both powerful sorcerers, her feelings kind of just pop back up out of nowhere and satoru finds it amusing how even after all this time and the things that their clans told them about each other that she would still have her little puppy crush on him. Maybe it could be like a she fell first and he fell harder scenario? i'm a slut for those oh my gosh

thank you so much!!!!

That's so so so sweet of you! Honestly, got me giggling and kicking my feet. Careful, I will propose, istg. This... turned into a monster while writing it. I came up with a silly little plan and a silly little idea to incorporate into your request and then this monstrosity was born. If I wasn't told to stop... I might've never stopped writing on this. I L O V E D this idea. Friends to lovers/1 fell first then the other fell harder I EAT UP EVERY TIME. So, here's what my whore brain wrote <3 love you and I hope you enjoy!

warnings: NSFW, MDNI, Gojo harasses the women he's actually into (he forgets how to flirt so just ends up bullying them), teasing, flirting, kissing, cowgirl, missionary, raw sex, a lot of touching, feelings...so many feelings

word count: 6.1k

The Crave | Satoru Gojo x fem!reader

“Are you sure they’ll be there? I don’t want their son to look at our precious daughter.” Your mother holds you closely to her legs, clicking her tongue in annoyance when the maid nods her head. “Unbelievable. You hear that? Do they think they can parade that freak of nature around Japan? Well, they’ll have to see our daughter as well. She’s got the normal amount of eyes and isn’t staring at everyone with those ugly blue ones.” Her tone is harsh and for a six-year-old you, it’s hard to understand why she’s so angry. You also doubted that the young boy had six eyes.

Your father walks into the room, straightening his tie with a stern look on his features. “As long as they keep him away from her, everything will be fine.”

But as you were brought into the party, still close to your mother – you saw nothing but a boy with snow white hair and brilliant blue eyes. Sure the way he glared at you was slightly off-putting, but he was just a boy. He was alone in the room, but everyone seemed to be talking about him. Even your mother shamed him behind a gloved hand.

Your heart aches. What did he do that warranted such disgust for simply being alive? The Gojo clan and your clan had been at odds since the very conception of both. They bred powerful sorcerors for fame, gain, and wealth. He was yet another product of selfish desire, born into a role and body he didn’t ask for. His life ahead would be filled with always the underline of being strong. Somehow; being uniquely gifted gave him the responsibility to be used like a tool. You knew your fate wasn’t far behind his.

Though, his eyes sparkled like he knew some deeply funny thing about the world. That – even though his destiny was surely to be used up by his clan – there were still things to be enjoyed in the world. It made your…stomach hurt. Both a swirling breeze of cool and a stifling wave of heat. Boiled and frozen, pumping whatever this feeling was straight into your tiny brain.

That was the first time you ever saw Satoru Gojo, and you’d soon come to realize around the age of 10 that you had developed an infatuation with him. Children surrounded you, chattering about how you and Satoru were going to get married when you were older. Of course, you blushed and stayed quiet – which in hindsight wasn’t the best idea since the gaggle of children went screaming at Satoru about how you wanted to marry him. A less-than-ideal situation because those sapphire eyes tracked you down amongst the crowd and 10-year-old Satoru smirked. You were utterly done for.

Thinking back on the encounters you’d had with Satoru Gojo, you were glad your family hated him. It gave you an excuse to hide behind that fact because still – in your 20s – his face would appear in the back of your mind. You’d heard things about the miraculous powerful sorcerer he’d become from your boss at the special unit for special grade sorcerors. Your mother called you about 30 times just today to remind you Satoru wasn’t the strongest, you were. The Gojo clan was sneaky, they didn’t care about anyone else except for their gain. Your parents had raised you to be wary of anything the Gojo clan did, one misstep, and suddenly you’d be shipped off to the States.

It was a mix inside your stomach. The Gojos were not to be trusted and you most definitely were not allowed to interact with their heir. So when your boss comes waltzing up to you with a wide smile on her face, you know that rule is about to be broken. “YN, I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Her laugh comes off rushed. Your boss knew about the tensions between the rivaling clans, working with special grade sorcerors required her to do so. Then why? Why the hell did she pass over a report with that stupid fucker’s face on it? “There’s a powerful curse roaming around Shibuya that needs the attention of,” she pauses, scrunching her face in thought.

You sigh, the annoyance in your body pooling in your joints. “Two extremely powerful sorcerors?” You offer, the fakest smile known to mankind presenting itself on your lips.

Nevertheless, she lights up and hits her fist on the flat of her palm. “Exactly! See, this is why we have you on the team!” She exclaims with a little too much vigor for your taste.

You watch her for a moment, noticing the way her long blue hair bounces around – almost like they were cheering you on as well. “Right…” You drag out the word, glancing at the file folder in your hand. “Why can’t Gojo handle it by himself then?” Her excitement seemingly drains from her face. You take note immediately. “Boss, how powerful is this damn thing?”

༘⋆✿

Meanwhile, Satoru had the same look on his face – annoyance. He understood having two special graders go on this mission would ultimately be the best option, but you? What sort of sick play of the fates was this? You were always so, he groans running a hand down his face, perfect. Your reputation, your battle tactics, hell even your coworkers thought you were the best. That’s insane. What kind of person even has all of their coworkers think the best of them?

He tosses your folder to the side of his desk, wanting to bang his forehead on the surface of the hardwood just to make sure he is seeing things clearly. The higher-ups were always comparing him to you, making sure he never fell behind in anything. Your clan was just a bunch of prissy stuck-up snobs… but then again… so was his.

It’s useless, he was stuck going on this mission with you because no matter how powerful he was, he would never have power over himself. He reaches for your folder again, flipping it open. Along with the neverending list of your accolades and magnificent achievements, was a picture of you paperclipped to the stack of paper. A few beats of silence pass as Satoru stares at your face.

After a few more minutes he grunts and shuts the folder again. He focuses on pulling the black cloth back over his eyes. The curse would be a piece of cake, especially with both of you on the mission. That’s not what he was worried about per se. The tricky part was how unbelievably pretty you had gotten to be and how there was a growing ache in the pit of his stomach. Fuck, this was going to be a shitshow. Then again, he couldn’t help but wonder – with a growing smirk on his face – if you still had that puppy dog crush on him.

༘⋆✿

“Yes, right this way ma’am.” A blonde man guides you toward Satoru’s office. He’s in an interesting outfit, not the usual sorcerer apparel. His tie is black and white forming an interesting pattern. His calm blue dress shirt is tucked into a pair of beige slacks. He’s very handsome and also looks very tired. Probably from dealing with all of Satoru’s bullshit if you had to guess.

He stops in front of a door and you almost don’t catch how his body deflates quickly with a tiny sigh before he’s back to normal. “Before I go in, please just call me YN.” Your body moves on its own, planting a hand on his rather muscular shoulder.

He attempts a smile, but it falters almost as soon as the corners of his mouth reach their peak. “Call me Nanami, Nanami Kento.” He extends a hand and you gratefully shake it. He seems nice. Then, he opens the door and leaning up against a desk is none other than Satoru.

Satoru is in uniform and you’ll be damned, he looks too good in it. How can someone that lanky pull off a baggy uniform? His fluffy white hair spikes out in a messy ‘I woke up looking this good’ way. Your heart – against every inch of your being, is thumping wildly in your chest. You should’ve double-checked his file to conclude he doesn’t have six ears. What if he can hear how erratic your pulse is? His azure gaze is locked in on the man beside you. “Thank you, Nanami,” Satoru smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. You hear a grunt beside you and then Nanami starts walking down the hall. You watch him leave, wishing he could’ve stayed longer. You hear a loud cough from inside the room. Furrowing your brows you turn your gaze to Satoru, who looks irritated. “I thought you came to spend time with me YN, yet here you are not even paying any attention to me.” He complains, standing up.

You press your lips into a thin line. “We’re not here for a playdate, we have business to do.” You reply with a lash of venom in your cool tone. Satoru glances off to the side with an airy laugh and smirk. What was he laughing about? You were growing more frustrated with every second.

“Mmm, playdates remind me of when we were children.” He’s still looking off to the side like he’s watching a memory play out that only he can see. His gaze is back to you in an instant. “You had a crush on me, remember?” He cocks his head to the side, a teasing grin taking over his stupidly handsome face.

Your body cools with a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance. Oh, so he wanted to bring up the past? You put on your best ‘fuck around a find out’ smile. “Yeah, but that was before puberty hit and I had standards.” You answer the tone of your voice higher and sweeter than before. Satoru raises his brows as an amused expression takes over his face. “Shall we get to business now?” You snap, which only makes him burst out laughing.

Satoru is walking toward you now and the alarm bells in your head start flashing. “Hey, before that I have a question I’ve been dying to know.” He leans down, planting a hand on the wall next to your head to be level with you. You stiffen, growing uncomfortable. Not with Satoru being this close, but with how much your body seems to enjoy it.

Your brows knit together and a frown tugs your face downward. “What?” You fume, jerking your head to emphasize the word. Satoru observes you, that feeling in his stomach clawing its way up. His gaze falls to your lips for the slightest of seconds.

He swallows, the vexing emotion wanted to be near you, beside you, touching you, in you. How troublesome. The only way for Satoru to get rid of this feeling was to somehow annoy you to the extent you never came around him again. Granted – you didn’t anyway, but this exception had nearly driven him to the edge already. “When you were little, did you ever create an illusion of me? Did you hold his hand? Practice kissing him?” Satoru inquires, feeling full of himself. Your whole face drops. You must be in a different world because he did not just ask you that. A garbled scoff sounds from your throat as you gape at him, utterly dumbfounded.

You try to process what the hell is going on by opening and closing your mouth, raising your hands then dropping them again, and blinking rapidly. “Oh my God,” are the first words that you say. They’re also the next few thousand words you say considering how many times you repeat the phrase.

By this time Satoru has dropped his arm, regarding you with a rueful grin. He’s backed away a few paces and you finally point a finger at him. “You are disgusting. You mean nothing to me. You’re such an annoying,” You’re panting, anger rolling through you in cold and hot waves. “An annoying.”

“What YN? An annoying what?” Your eyes are going to bulge out of your head. He’s smirking again! Smirking!

“An annoying fuckface!” You scream, throwing your hands out in pure frustration. You groan exasperatedly before storming out of his office.

༘⋆✿

Had you really called him a fuckface? What did that even mean? Satoru is staring at the ceiling of his city-rise apartment, unbelievably shell-shocked from the events earlier today. He flips over on his side. It hadn’t gone exactly like he planned, although he didn’t put much planning into the whole thing. Tomorrow morning you’d both meet up at Shibuya station to track down the cursed spirit. He should probably apologize for acting like an idiot…he groans and flips back onto his back.

Morning comes like a weight of bricks. You’re both standing awkwardly in the station. The people passing by must sense something because none of them even look your way. Satoru points to the stairs leading to the street level. “Uh, we could always patrol the rooftops…” He’s being so awkward. It was honestly a hit to his ego. Usually, the ladies ate up his tease em’ and leave em’ tactic. As he stares at you a blood-curdling scream echoes from the street above. Dust shakes off of the parts of the station as a loud explosion shakes the ground.

You glance at Satoru and he nods his head, a knowing smile creeping up his face. Finally, some fighting to get his mind off of whatever asshole thing he’d manage to say to you next. As you both reach the street ahead you’re met with chaos. Cars are being flung by a large lizard entity, but it has eyes everywhere on its body. Satoru is about to gauge an attack but you burst out laughing next to him. His footing stutters, eyes widening as he takes in your genuine laugh. It’s… kind of majestic. You hug your stomach, doubling over in laughter as you extend your hand to point at the cursed spirit. “Looks like,” you snort out a giggle, “Looks like you have some competition for having the most eyes.”

Gojo is immediately taken aback by your words. A woman runs screaming past you as you wipe a tear away from your eye. “Now let me show you a thing or two.” You sprint toward where rubble and wreckage cause obstacles. You make light work of climbing atop a sizeable pile of rebar and pavement. “Hey, lizard breath! Over here!” Jumping up and down, you wave your arms in the air. Did Satoru have to do anything? You seem to know what to do.

He watches you with a small chuckle as the monstrosity turns its bulbous eyes toward you. In the blink of its mucusy eyes, your image doubles. Thousands of you spread across the street, then start attacking the main body. Satoru grins, jumping in to join. “Think you could have all the fun without me?!” He yells toward you.

You’re surprised he could easily see which one of you was the real one. Though, you guess that’s what all those eyes were for. You were working off of one another – working with each other. If your clans could see you now. You’re both laughing and fighting like taking a walk in the park. Surprisingly Satoru can’t keep his eyes off you. He wasn’t sure if it was because he wanted to protect you or simply because as you fought alongside him you proved you didn’t need his protection. When you were with him you didn’t rely on him. No, you could handle yourself, which made Satoru crave your attention. He was the strongest…but with you by his side, his strength would finally be supported rather than taken for granted.

It doesn’t take long to deal with the cursed spirit and for once Satoru is glad you’re required to come back as a team to fill out paperwork. That way he could get a little extra time with you. He smirks to himself as you finish up in Shibuya.

He likes the look of you in his office, sitting on the couch in the corner with a small table in front of you. A laptop, a stack of papers, and a cup of tea are all somehow set on top of the small space. Your hair is falling in front of your face as you crouch over to type away the report. He was supposed to be working too, but he’d be damned if he broke his gaze now. “You ever going to stop looking at me and actually fill out some of those files Mr. Gojo?” You hum, still concentrating on the screen in front of you. Of course, you’d figure out he was gawking, it’s not like he was hiding it.

Satoru clears his throat and glances away. “You can call me Satoru,” He pouts. When was the last time Satoru had requested a woman call him by his given name? Out of everyone else’s mouth, it was a simple endearment, but out of yours? That was something else entirely.

You sigh, pausing in your efforts to finish the paperwork before dawn. You roll your lips into your mouth and tap your chin. “I think I much prefer fuckface.” You say, then smile sweetly.

Satoru nods his head, pushing out of his seat. “Yeah? You want to call me fuckface or you want to fuck my face?” He banters. Your body tenses as you watch him sit on the edge of his desk. There's a pressure building in between your thighs that you can’t ignore. Your body feels like there are phantom touches caressing all of the places you yearned for Satoru to touch.

You huff and turn away from him. “Back to this? Where’s your dignity, your charm, your manhood?” You ask. You jerk to the side, shaking your head. “No wait- that’s not exactly what I mean to say please don’t-”

Satoru is already laughing. “My manhood? Damn, you really must be thinking up all sorts of illusions in there, but,” he crosses the room, stopping in front of your table. He pushes the laptop shut with his fingertips. “The real thing is always going to be better darlin’.”

It suddenly seems very hard to swallow, so you let out an awkward laugh before gathering up your things. “Right, sure, I have to go.” You stumble over your words, rushing for the door. If you didn’t get out of this room right now you were sure bad things would happen. By bad things, you meant letting your guard down for a second around a man who was just flirting with you for the hell of it. You were a part of a rival clan, which meant he couldn’t have you. That also meant he wanted you more than the average woman. Of that, you could be certain, but you wouldn’t be some plaything Satoru could throw to the side once he’d had his fun.

Behind you Satoru’s face had fallen, his chest rising and falling quickly as you scurry out of his office. Good, now that the real threat had been dealt with, he had some paperwork to finish. You’d be safer away from him, not wrapped up in his clan dealings and always having to live for others. For once, Satoru wanted to be truthfully selfish – sure he would go out, drink, party, enjoy one or two ladies, but in the end he was left with himself again. Satoru couldn’t save himself and he was scared that the only one powerful enough to pull him out of this desperate cry for help…was you.

༘⋆✿

A couple of months pass by without hide or tail of Satoru. Working alongside him was honestly…freeing. You weren’t held back by the possibility of someone weaker getting hurt. You groan, turning your face to the sky above you. It was gratifying being able to let loose with your own powers. Usually that many mimics will render you immobile, but you were able to spring into action right next to them. “Ma’am, a report from the Tokyo campus,” A file is passed in front of you. As you glance through the pages you turn to glance at your boss.

She seems busy chatting away with one of the other sorcerers. You blow out a sigh and tuck the file under your arm. “Call them back and tell them I’ll be there within the hour.” You glance down at your sweats, wincing at the fact you wore such comfortable clothes to work. “Maybe make that 2.” You mutter, a disapproving scowl taking over your face.

You ran home to change into a pair of running shoes, black leggings, and whatever shirt was on top of your dirty laundry. Unlike someone else, you couldn’t teleport, so public transportation was your only way to reach the Tokyo campus area. Walking up the stairs takes a little more effort than you’d like to admit, but when you reach the top you’re met with a shirtless Satoru Gojo and Nanami Kento training. Your jaw practically dislocates from your mouth as you gawk. They were gliding through the air and Nanami somehow had a more excited expression on his face than before. Of course, Satoru notices you first, but that allows Nanami to get a whack in. “Hey! That was foul play.” Satoru hisses, holding his cheek.

Nanami shrugs, bending down to pick a towel off the ground. “Should’ve put your infinity back up.” He then glances at you and smiles. Your heart warms and a cheesy smile appears on your face. “Hey YN,” He waves and for a moment you’re awestruck by how handsome he is. The Lord was kind to these men. So…so very kind. Both of them were muscular, their abdomens shaped into ridges and divots. Biceps, triceps, everything went on in rippling splendor forever. You’d thought Satoru had maintained a scrawny figure, but you were certainly proved wrong and you were so glad you were.

“Hi there Nanami.” You walk over to him, picking up a stray water bottle on your way. You hand it to him but he shakes his head.

“Thank you, but that’s actually his,” he juts his thumb toward Satoru and your face falls. You toss it toward the silver-haired man and he annoyingly catches it with ease.

He glares at you, throwing his towel over his shoulder. “Yeah, thanks YN.” He grumbles. Nanami nods toward the school building.

“If you let me wash up I can take you to Yaga’s office.” He’s back to smiling and honestly, you might have a thing for smiles.

You latch your hands behind your back and giggle to yourself. “That would be really sweet of you Nanami.” Satoru snorts out a laugh on the other side of Nanami. You shoot him a glare.

“Why are you callin’ Nanami by his first name but you don me fuckface?” Satoru shoots toward you, frustration twinging all of his happiness from the earlier training session. Nanami peers between you two, and then his brows shoot up with an airy laugh.

“Oh my God you’re the one that called him fuckface? That’s so fucking funny.” Nanami laughs toward the sky, a soft sound coming from him.

Satoru grumbles to himself, rolling his eyes like a frustrated child. “You are coming with me.” He growls, latching onto your wrist and pulling you toward the school.

You stumble over your footing as he yanks you down the pathway. “S-Satoru w-wait oh my God!” You yell as you finally enter the building. He tosses you into the room you know to be his office. You falter backward, catching yourself on his desk. “What’s going on, what the fuck was that?” You hiss. He stalks toward you, throwing his towel onto the couch with a little more aggression than you’d like.

He closes the distance between you, his nostrils flaring and eye twitching. “Oh so now you call me by name? Oh well, it’s too late for that now princess. You’ve pushed me far enough.” He laughs hotly moving between your legs. He’s massive and his skin is warm, you can feel the heat radiating off of him through your pants. He towers over you in an overwhelmingly torturously attractive way.

It was hard to understand what was happening with the ringing of your heart covering all rational thought. “What are you saying? I’m not the one that made all those stupid jokes,” You mutter, looking away from him. He hisses, grabbing onto your chin and making your gaze settle back onto him.

He laughs dryly as you blink questioningly at him. “Yeah? You had that stupid crush on me, that’s what caused this.” He spits, but you still can’t decipher what he’s trying to get at.

Your lips part, letting out a small exasperated breath. “Listen, I didn’t mean to crush on you again, just old habits die hard I guess,” You explain, groaning as his grip tightens on your chin. His face looks tormented like some great plague has taken over his body.

He scoffs, tossing your face to the side. You grunt with the impact, narrowing your eyes in annoyance. “Again? Haaa,” He covers his eyes with his hand, groaning softly. “You ran away from me then ignored me YN… how does that scream ‘I have a crush on you?’” The hand that was over his eyes drags down his face. You don’t have an explanation for him because you barely had one for yourself. “You must’ve sent one of your puppets to walk around the streets by my apartment, the campus, but the one thing I can’t figure out is how you got one of them to walk around in my head. I can’t see anyone except you and I’m going crazy.” His eyes are pained and his breath is labored. You finally understand.

“Satoru…” You whisper his name with all the softness in the world, years of loving him building up into an insurmountable emotion. He turns away from you, covering his mouth this time.

“Fuck YN, don’t say my name like that.” He hisses and you swear you can see playboy Satoru Gojo’s ears blaze a red color. “You weren’t even trying earlier, but you made me so jealous. Nanami was flirting with you right in front of me and I couldn’t do a damned thing about it. I wanted to both be Nanami and beat the shit out of him.” He slowly lets his gaze turn to you again. “I think I’m in love with you YN,” His voice is nervous, and his eyes are flittering all over your face, searching for answers.

In love with you? Satoru Gojo was in love with…you? After all the years of your mother telling you to stay away from that boy. You were never supposed to be in this situation, especially not with the head of the Gojo clan. But you know what they say… actually, you didn’t really care about some emotional quote that would relate to this very moment because all you wanted to do – craved to do, was kiss Satoru until the sun set behind the Tori gate.

“Our clans aren’t going to be very happy about this new development.” You chuckle and Satoru rolls his eyes.

“That’s not an answer YN…” Okay, so he wants words. A confirmation? What exactly did you feel? Was it love? Was it something different? You didn’t have to know now, time would solidify whatever love is. All you can do is put a name to what you’re feeling.

You smile, a blossoming feeling thumping in your chest. “Yes Satoru, I love you.” You almost don’t get the words out because Satoru slips a hand into your hair and brings your mouths together in a passionate kiss. He kisses you like he’s been a starved man all his life, like he’s never wanted to kiss someone this badly.

Satoru is obsessed with the way you gasp between kisses and how your eyes squeeze shut. “You can open your eyes, I’m the real thing.” He chuckles and brushes his thumb against your cheek soothingly.

You weren’t afraid Satoru was one of your illusions, but rather how real this was in the first place. When you really want something you shouldn’t the whole world kind of falls away when you get that thing. When Satoru kisses you, it’s only him and that was terrifying for someone who constantly surrounded herself with things. You peek through your lashes at him anyway. “The same thing goes for me, I’m real.” You state lamely.

Satoru blows out a chuckle, grinning mischievously. “Mmm, I’m not so sure about that, maybe you should show me.” His eyes darken and the sweltering heat you felt before nearly doubles in size and intensity.

You put your hand over the one he has on your cheek, lowering it until his fingertips brush against the swell of your chest. His brows shoot up and before he has much time to react you move it lower to the apex of your thighs. His breathing falters as he stares, eyes swimming with lust. “Come on Gojo, show me what a rival clan can really do.” The corners of your mouth lift in an enticing smirk.

For all the time he was irritating and downright egotistical, Satoru is a good listener now. He pushes you into the desk, groaning when your fingernails dig into his shoulders. “You sure do drive a hard bargain.” His mouth tickles against your neck, kissing a trail down to your shoulder. He pauses, taking in a breath. “Mmm, you smell so good,” He mumbles against your shirt. You flush, embarrassment running hot through your veins. Did he like the smell of your dirty shirt? If you’d known the situation you’d be in right now, you would’ve put more thought into what you were wearing.

He brings himself back up toward your face, planting a deep kiss on your lips. A selfish moan breaks through as Satoru works his lips against yours. “God, you’re so good at that.” You breathe out. A satisfied hum rumbles from his chest.

You take in his chest, appreciating the view. This earns a chortle from Satoru. “You know, I’m starting to think you only like me when my shirt is off.” You lean into him, wrapping your legs around his waist. Your eyes widen when you realize there’s something hard pressing into your thigh. How you didn’t feel it until now is a mystery because that thing is one of the 7 wonders of the world. Satoru grunts, pulling you up and off the ledge of his desk. “Do you feel that? I think I finally understand what the elders were talking about. All I want to do with you right now is ram my cock into you until I have you writhing under me. Then finish fucking my cum into your cervix so you can mother my children. That way, your parents will have to like me and my clan, because you’ll be a Gojo.” He’s being serious right now, setting you down on the couch.

You bite your lip curiously. “Do you plan on wedding me Satoru Gojo?” It’s a loaded question that he didn’t have to answer. It was a sweet moment and there you had to go asking a question like that. You don’t expect Satoru to sink onto one knee, take your hand, and place loving kisses on your knucks.

He meets your gaze, electricity burning between the both of you. “May you wrap my heart around your finger one day and bear my burdens as I will bear yours.” What was even happening? Marriage? Surely this was one big dream, because years ago when you were both kids even imagining this day seemed like a far-off occurrence. This was all so sudden, but in all honesty, when have the two of you ever conformed to conventional standards?

You were certain of one thing, you didn’t want your first time with Satoru Gojo to be on some dusty couch in the corner of his office. “Satoru… do you think we could continue…” You glance down, running your tongue over your lips. “This elsewhere?” His eyes glimmer, his mouth quirking up in a grin.

He stands, still holding your hand. “I just basically proposed to you and all you can think about is getting in my pants. Man, rejection stings.” He tuts, shaking his head. You roll your eyes as you both laugh, a heavyweight finally being lifted. Yeah, this felt right.

All at once you feel nauseated and dizzy. You squeeze your eyes shut, grasping onto Satoru like he was the only thing that could hold you up. “What the fuck was that?” You gasp, blinking your eyes open to find a completely different scene than when you closed them.

Satoru caresses your cheeks, grounding you to him. “Sorry, I promise you’ll get used to it, well… maybe not, but still I’m sorry.”

“Where are we?” You gasp, hands still clutching his arms as you peer around the living room you appear to be in. It feels less than lived in like someone staged the whole apartment – which is what you assumed Satoru had teleported you both into.

He scratches the back of his neck while nervously chuckling. “My apartment,” His gaze falls to you, taking in how perfect you look among his things. “Do you like it?” He asks with such a look in his eyes, similar to a puppy begging for attention.

You peek out the ground to ceiling-level windows, laughing to yourself. “I didn’t know teachers got paid so much.” Satoru grins, nodding toward the windows – or rather the city outside of them.

“Oh you know, I got kind of a side hustle going on.” He shrugs, then turns to you, that mischievous twinkle back in his eyes. “You should see the bedroom.” He offers you his hand, jerking his head to a hallway. “I hear the owner hates it when the bed is made, the least we should do is go mess them up for him.” You take Satoru’s hand and let him lead you into the bedroom at the end of the hall.

Once the door was shut behind you the playful comments were thrown aside – replaced by frantic kisses and undressing. Satoru sits on the foot of the bed, watching you in all your splendor. Your body was that of a dream, your breasts, the slope of your stomach, thighs, fuck everything about you was glorious. Satoru couldn’t remember how to breathe gazing upon you. “Like what you see?” You tease, positioning yourself over his lap.

You brace yourself on his shoulders, settling onto your knees. Satoru blows out a choked noise. “Thank fuck I have so many eyes because I couldn’t imagine not being able to see all of you like this.” His hands are on you, running up your back, molding his long fingers into your squishy tits, and then down your side to dig his nails into your hips. “Are you okay with this?” He inquires, tilting his head.

You smile, but a small part of you wants to line yourself up with his cock and bottom out. “I’m okay with so much more.” You breath. He understands, after all you both want the same thing right now – crave it.

You both wait with bated breath as Satoru lets you guide him into your entrance. With all the teasing and edging closer and closer to this moment, you were far from dry. It was a little embarrassing how slick you were considering there was practically no foreplay. You hiss as his pretty cock sinks deeper into your throbbing cunt. “That’s it, that’s my good girl. You can take all of me,” His grip on your hips tightens, helping push you onto him. A strangled moan hisses out of your mouth as you slump onto Satoru’s shoulders. “Feels s’good baby. God, you’re so perfect.” He’s kissing your temple and you’re squeezing his cock with airy moans. After a moment, he bottoms out, a guttural groan rumbling from within him. “You did so good, fuck,”

The air feels thick, heady, and fills with the wet sound of Satoru’s cock inside you. “Go-go ahead and move.” You order with a shaky breath. He starts to move, laying back to better fuck into you. You plant your hands on his abdomen, moaning loudly. His length hits every sensitive spot at once, causing you to tremble on top of him.

Satoru chuckles, then suddenly flips you both over. “Come on YN, I thought you’re one of the strongest sorcerers in Japan, you can handle me fucking you.”

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fan-goddess · 1 year ago

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Helloooo love! I'm a fan lurking in the dark with a request idea for Aemond x Reader. Would love to see your take on Aemond trying to win Reader back (his wife) after she found out about Alys. Maybe this happens after the "Dance" , Aemond survives and they have to deal with the aftermath of Alys. Reader loved him with everything she had so she feels betrayed and turns cold to him and maybe because of Alys, something also happened to her (idk lost pregnancy perhaps but PLEASE exclude this if you don't feel comfortable writing it). Basically take everything you find interesting from this request and work your magic - I trust you like no other!!! Thank you I send you all the love there is - you are very very talented and please know there are many like me that think you are truly brilliant, I know it!!! :*:*

Authors Note: Oh my god thank you this is so freakin sweet! 🥺 I’m happy to take the request and spin my take on this, hope you enjoy it! :)

Also, some of the stuff Is made up like the time between Daemons death and end of the war. I don’t know it so I made it up. If you don’t like it take it up with my dms

Word count: 2.6K

Warnings: Cheating, miscarriage though it’s not explicit, she’s kinda depressed? Not sure how to describe it,

Taglist: @blue-serendipity

The Sequels: The Depressive one, The happy One

—————

If Aemond ever regretting not killing anyone throughout the war he technically started, most would’ve immediately assumed that he wished he never killed his nephew. Though they were wrong. Yes, Lucerys’ death became one of the many causes of the war and in turn deaths of so many people, but his death didn’t result in the loss of you and your child.

Alys’ death could’ve though.

When he first met Alys, he had been nearly immediately enraptured and enamoured by had. She was quite different to you. While you had always been headstrong and never afraid to tell Aemond what he needed to do or to be, Alys had been more docile and had no issue in telling Aemond all the things he wanted to hear.

He regretted the first time he laid with Alys in his bed. Though that regret went away the more time he spent with her and the more times he laid with her. He begun to think of possibly taking after Aegon the conqueror, thinking he’d have both you and Alys by his side when Aegon most likely drank himself to death.

That fantasy was soon ruined when he got that letter.

Dear Aemond,

Do you think of me as a fool? I know about that fucking woman Aemond. I know about Alys. I don’t know why you have decided to betray our marriage and honestly, I don’t think care I can bring myself to think about it nor care anymore. This letter was originally going to be happy. A letter letting you know what we prayed near everyday from the seven had finally come true and been answered. I was with child. Our child made purely of what I had thought was love. Though that changed when I was informed of what you had done. I mourned for what we could’ve had. I cried and refused to believe it at first, though soon I came to my senses. Yet it was too late. Our child is dead Aemond. I woke up a few days ago to heavy blood staining our bedsheets. The child was barely two months according to the maester. I wish for you to know it is your fault Aemond. I do not wish to ever see you again. I wish to never hear from you so if you attempt to reconcile or send a letter I will pay for our child’s blood with your own. You have dug your grave Aemond. Don’t try and dig it deeper. If you are to die in battle, I hope it is painful. I hope you suffer like I have.

From, your wife

From your former wife

Aemond had felt his heart plummet to the floor when he read that letter. He could not stop the tears that fell to the floor and stained the letter he still was holding. The ink blotting and staining the page so much the words were becoming near illegible.

He attempted to head into battle with the faint hope that you’d forgive him if he killed his uncle. Though even he knew deep down that no amount of deaths could fix anything. Yet even still he tried. He defeated Daemon, with blood of which Targaryen man he did not know staining and pooling on his ripped armour.

Aemond came home where he was met with his mother and brother, who both congratulated him on his victory. Though even with their congrats he could see the disgust that lingered in his mothers gaze as she looked at him. It made his shame all that more prominent.

He would’ve gone to see you, but Aegon stopped him before he could, claiming he was holding a feast in his name for the defeat of Daemon. He tried to look for you in the amount of people that came, yet he couldn’t. And he didn’t dare ask his mother if you would be coming in fear of her glare and disappointment.

That night he wonders something. Maybe it would’ve been better if he did die by the hand of his uncle? Then it would’ve saved him from all this torture. Though he can’t say he didn’t deserve it. Aemond can only wallow in his drinks that he keeps being given and his own sorrow.

Aemond was back home. The words the maids said echoed in your head. He’s here, and no doubt going to attempt to reconcile. If there was one thing you ever learnt about your husband, was that he never quit at anything he started.

You already made bets with yourself on how he’d attempt to do it.

Maybe he’ll try flowers? No that’s too much of a common move for Aemond to pull… Maybe he’ll bring you some jewellery? No that’d make him feel like he was buying for your forgiveness. Like he was buying something for a mistress. Well… he’s been there and done that…

There is always the chance Aemond will not even attempt to reconcile. Hopefully becoming too overcome by the grief and pain of the loss of his and your child that he’d respect your wishes after reading your own pain on paper. The maids still look at you worriedly, especially when they find you sitting near the window. You know why they worry, you mourned Helaena and Jahaerys and you know you will not become like her.

Aegon was also the one who told you about Alys, and when you lost your child and screamed for the whole of the castle to hear, it was Aegon who ran to you to mourn with you and hold you while you cried for a life you may have been able to have. He held you in the way a brother would hold a sister. He even cried with you and helped clean you of the blood. Oh the blood…

———

It’s been a few long months, but the war between the greens and the blacks is finally over. Aegon is celebrating by holding a massive banquet and all the lord and ladies who supported him are invited. Even though Aemond knows it will not happen, he secretly hopes you will come to celebrate.

Though as he keeps sneaking glances at the door all night he eventually comes to term with the fact you’re not coming. He can only swallow more bitter wine and ignore the fact he’s drinking it like a fish in water now.

He’s attempted to reconcile from a distance ever since the incident but everything he has sent to your chambers has come back in shreds. The flowers from the garden you loved to look after, heads torn from their stems and cut into a thousand pieces. The books he sent on your favourite topic, you had more restraint on them and simply chucked them from your window onto unsuspecting bystanders bellow.

Aegon told him delightfully how after he delivered the books to you, they were seen immediately thrown from the window and one had supposedly managed to hit one knight straight on the head, effectively knocking him out cold.

Though if anything those small acts of defiance made Aemond wish to reunite and return to you even more. It reminded him just why he fell in love with you in the first place. Your wit and your wisdom made him fall head over heals for you, literally.

He had tripped in front of you and some other ladies of the court due to the load of books he was carrying. He had not yet gotten used to the visual impairments the loss of his eye provided and did not see the thrown goblet in his path. Aemond had effectively turned scarlet when the ladies began to mockingly giggle at him, it nearly made his heart beat straight from his chest when he saw you come to his help. “You need to get some help with those. It’s not that bad to ask for help you know? Means you aren’t a stubborn twat.” You grin.

He wished he could go back to those days. They were simpler. They held no knowledge of the war they would face. It held no knowledge of the bastard from Harrenhal.

Aemond had not tried to reunite with you in person. He knew you’d most definitely follow through with your threat and spill his blood. It’s why he attempted to send you items instead through the maids. Though it’s very obvious those weren’t working either. That’s when he got the idea to write you letters. There was easily a chance that you would burn them or tear them the moment you saw the writing. Yet even then Aemond knew he had to try…

———

“Princess. I have another item sent from the prince for you.” One of the maids said as she carefully approached your bed. The sun had already hit its peak that day, though you could not bring yourself to get out of bed. The only time you could bring yourself too was either with the help of your maids, or when Aemond sent a supposed gift to you which you’d immediately destroy.

“What is it this time?” You sigh. “Is it something that I am supposed to eat? Because if it is i’d like it if you took to the servants quarters and give it to them and not-“

“It’s not food related my princess. It’s a letter.” When you look towards the maid you can see the sad expression clear on her face. This maid has brought you many of Aemonds attempts at reconciliation.

“What is your name?” It does not give you any sort of pleasure when the maid looks shocked at the fact a princess is asking for the name of a maid. “Its not a trick question I want to know your name.”

“Klarisa my princess. My name is Klarissa.”

“Klarisa do you think I should read the letter my bastard of a husband as written to me?” You look carefully at Klarisas face, the decision of your lifetime hanging in a mere maids hands.

“To be honest with you my lady…” Klarisa takes a deep breath and puts on a sympathetic face. You appreciate that she wishes to give you honesty, though that sympathetic face makes you want to punch her. “What the prince did was inexcusable after the way the two of you acted before… her. You got to have a husband who loves you and cared for you, that itself is much more than most of the women who are forced into a marriage can hope for. The prince is trying to make up for it and is also respective your boundaries. Not many could say that they got to have a husband who did even one of those things. So yes my princess, I believe you should read the letter.” You take a deep breathe and loosen your hands, which seemed to have clenched so tightly your nails all but pierce into your palms.

“Give me the letter then leave. If you see the prince, do not tell him that you for once got me to think about even looking at his weak apologies. Just put your head down, and walk away. Do you understand Klarisa?”

“Yes my princess.” Klarisa moves swiftly to the doors to your chambers, opening it and moving forward, only to stop for a moment and turn on her heels towards to. “I hope you get what it is you seek my princess. For your own sake.” She turns back to the door and closes it behind her, leaving you alone with the letter in your hand which already feels like it’s burning you. Yet you prevail, and slowly open the letter to read it.

Dear ñuha jorrāelagon,

I will not waste my breath in attempting to gain your forgiveness. I know better than anyone that when you stick your mind to something you keep it that way. Though what I will say is the truth, which I know will hurt you and anger you more than anything but i know it’s what you wish to hear.

Alys was a woman I believed to be falling in love with. She was something what I believed I needed in my life. A woman to be docile and to whisper all the things I needed to hear in my ear. Though after your letter, it became my wake up. I cut off all contact with Alys after realising how much I hurt you. I regret that woman everyday I have not been with you. You are the only woman I need to be with. I love that you are not docile and will not take any man’s shit (as you so clearly and often tended to put it). I love that you challenge me and encourage the debates we so often hold. I love you Rhaella, more than any woman before in my life. I’m sorry it took another woman and the life of our child for me to realise it. I understand wholeheartedly if you wish to never speak to me again. But I hope with this letter, if you ever do decide to read this, which after all my other attempts seem unlikely, you at least know that there will not be a single day that I do not wish that I did not kill that woman when I killed all the other strongs. You are my life. My world. And I hope you know that.

From, Aemond Targaryen

You’ve never felt like you wanted to cry this much since you lost your sweet baby. You can feel the tears leaking down your face the entire time you read Aemonds words. Some of your tears drip onto the page, leaving some of the words to blur together into illegible blobs of black ink.

You feel the urge to destroy the letter. The same urge and desire you felt when you got into contact with all of Aemonds other gifts. Though you resist this time, and instead of destroying the letter, you smooth it out and place it delicately under the mass amounts of pillows that seem to always near take over your bed. That night, for the first night of the many you’d stayed in your room during your isolation period, you slept the whole night in your bed with no nightmares to wake you screaming.

———

When Aemond was standing in the corridor in the shadows and hadn’t picked up on any whispers from the maids passing him of any destruction or damage coming from your chambers, he assumed you must have kept the letter.

He does not hold though any hope that you read it. For all he knows you’ve simply just ignored it or ripped it and used it to keep your fire alight.

When he is waiting for the maid to come out of your room though, he could not help but feel hopeful when the maid takes longer than usual to come out of your room. “Well?” He asks as he steps from the shadows when the maid eventually comes out and nearly passes him. He does not dare to actually ask whether or not you took it. Even though he so selfishly wish to help hold her down and demand for

It surprises him and angers him when the maid looks at him and yet does not acknowledge him. What did you tell her? What does she know?

Aemond grabs the arm of the maid as she attempts to pass him without any real acknowledgment. “Your prince asked you a question.” He growls. He nearly felt sympathy for the woman when she looked at him with fear in her eyes. But he is not Aegon. He can control his desires towards the maids.

“The princess asked that I not speak to you. Please let go of my arm, my prince…” The maid half begs. Aemond lets go of her arm reluctantly after a moment of thinking. Why would you tell the maid to not talk to him? Maybe you really read the letter and do not wish to appear weak to him? Though only if you knew that you could never be weak in his eyes, his strong independent wife.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond fic #prince aemond #aemond x reader #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen/reader #aemond x you #hotd aemond #house of the dragon aemond #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen angst #aemond targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen #the death of a life au

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