#oh well - worse comes to worse - i have to raise my reputation so i can craft the thing that'll find it for me

[violetsareblue-selfships]

good morning!! <3

[ponderingmoonlight]

JJK men meeting you for the first time (aka Megumi catching you buying condoms lol)

Pairings: Gojo x reader; Nanami x reader; Megumi x reader

Word Count: 2,5k

Warnings: Gojo gets rejected lol, injury and death in Nanami's part, buying condoms in Megumi's part hehe, not proofread because I'm tired

Tags: @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @dazaisdick @sanicsmut@arehzhera @mynahx3

Gojo Satoru

It is a normal day at Jujutsu High for him. Meeting boring people with boring point of views in this boring room. Urgh, can it get any worse? Why does he have to be here?

Right, because he’s the strongest. He lets his head rest against the wall, allowing his eyes to close for a second. What will he do after this? Normally this would have been his day off, which always means going to the city and grabbing something to eat. Maybe he’ll try the new ramen place that just opened or those fluffy pancakes Nobara talked about earlier.

“You are Satoru Gojo, right?”

That voice, definitely a female one…He doesn’t know the person behind it, though. Why the hell is an unknown woman here? His eyes dart upwards.

For a second, he forgets how to breathe.

What a wonderful sight you are. Delicious curves well hid under that jujutsu sorcerer uniform, a gentle but professional smile decorating your remarkable face. Huh. That’s definitely not what he expected here.

“Who are you, gorgeous lady?” he purrs towards you while lifting himself off the ground.

Just as he suspected, he is more than a head taller than you, lingering over your delicate figure like a shadow. You are young, but not much younger than him. In your twenties, maybe? Who knows, girls these days always look older than they actually are.

You raise your eyebrows at the strange look on his face. So, this is the Gojo Satoru everyone talked about. “The strongest”, to be precise. You eye him up and down. Well, he’s quite tall, definitely with an athletic build. His posture screams confident in your face, that cheeky grin revealing that he in fact just tried to flirt with you.

Pathetic.

“I’m (y/n), a new jujutsu sorcerer chosen for the inner circle”, you explain briefly.

“I’ve never seen you around here. How does this come? I’d definitely remember that gorgeous face…”

“I’m gonna throw up…”, Utahime comments dryly.

You gift him with a cold smile before stepping a few steps in his direction, your cool eyes locking with his.

“Mr. Gojo, just let me make a few things clear before we work together. You are nothing more than a colleague to me. And while I do understand that you are gifted by birth with unimaginable power, you will never be anything else but a human being in my eyes. So please, refrain from flirting and do your job.”

Damn. Your words hit him with full force, leaving him speechless. You are a feisty one, that’s for sure. Not even your eyes betray your cool composure and the echo of your voice in his head. You really mean what you say. For the first time since he can remember, a woman rejected him.

You rejected Satoru Gojo.

“It’s only Satoru Gojo, no Mister. I always do my job, one way or another. Be assured of that.”

The way he smiles at you sends shivers down your spine.

But not in a good way.

Ew, what a creep. Does he always act like that around women? What a disgusting man. You can’t help but wonder about his reputation. Who on earth would voluntary fall for a guy like him? A jerk that thinks the world belongs to him? You can’t help but screw up your face at the thought of being alone with him. Oh god…

“Can you stop looking at me with so much dislike in your gaze?”

You tilt your head to the side, shaking yourself out of your trance.

“Sorry, you’re making it hard to me”, you reply before turning on your heels and stepping out.

Did you just let Satoru Gojo stand in the rain?

“Oh, this is gonna be fun…”, Utahime mutters out of the corner, a cheeky grin plastered on her face.

You are the first woman in years that seems to hold up with his gaze, not being impressed the slightest by his gorgeous face. Finally a woman who can keep up with him, finally someone who doesn’t fold immediately by one look into his bright blue orbs.

“Don’t get too comfortable, Utahime. I have the last laugh”, Gojo comments with a grin.

What a pleasant surprise. Who is he to reject a nice challenge?

“I will get her to like me, don’t worry about that.

“You definitely won’t!”, you shout into the room.

Nanami Kento

You don’t know how you ended up here. Deformed humans surrounding you along with screams, blood and death. You just wanted to enjoy yourself for a single night out with your friends on Halloween, dressing up as your favourite anime character.

And now you’re the only one alive, your friend’s dead corpses clustering the ground while you stare into the cold eyes of the monster in front of you.

Is this how you’ll die? God, you sill had so much planned. You were supposed to finally meet your parents tomorrow after not seeing them for three years. How will they react, hearing the news about what’s going on here at Shibuya? It would break their hearts, without any doubt.

But you’re so damn tired. Tired from being out all day, tired from getting chased, tired from desperately trying to run away. No, maybe it is time to accept the fate, to get along with the fact that you’ll die right here and now at Shibuya.

“Attention!”

A wave of blonde hair rushes past you before you are even able to comprehend what’s happening, slicing the monster in front of you into tiny little pieces. You get splattered in purple, glossy eyes widen.

What just happened? Who is this man? Did you maybe already die?

“Are you okay, Miss?”

Maybe all of this is just a dream. Yeah, one of the really bad ones. The ones that make you wake up dripping in sweat with your head in the clouds.

“Hey, look at me.”

The cool yet authoritarian tone in his voice makes your eyes dart up. That face…What a beautiful man. Not even the worry lines and his harden expression can change the fact that he is indeed attractive. Sweats drips from his forehead, the first button of his shirt opened.

“Did you get hurt?”

Slowly, you shake your head. Why is your mouth suddenly so dry, refusing its service completely? You must look like an idiot, standing in the middle of the street while staring up at him without saying a single word.

Nanami signs. You look absolutely traumatized, so worn out by the fight that displayed itself in front of you that you seem lost at words. No wonder. Given the way you are dressed, you just wanted to enjoy your night. Were you here alone? Maybe you lost your friends here, innocent people who seemed to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. He should get going, collecting all survivors and push forward. But your terrified face…He has to do something.

“My name is Kento Nanami”, he begins while getting down at your height.

“You are safe, okay? I will get you out of here.”

You don’t know why, you don’t know how. But suddenly you start to cry, your whole body trembling. What on earth just happened? Why are these people dead? Who is responsible for that?

“I’m scared…”, you mutter.

Oh, you feel so pathetic, standing in front of a stranger while balling your eyes out. But you can’t help yourself. Crying seems to be the only thing you are able to do right now. Your friends, all these other people…Your eyes roam around the blood-covered floor, the pavement plastered in limbs and intestines. You feel like throwing up, fainting right on the spot. But instead, you stare blankly at the ground, body unable to move a single inch.

All of the sudden the stranger kneels down in front of you and embraces your hands with his. They feel warm, almost comforting while they stop your arms from shaking.

“Focus on me, okay?”

Your gaze meets his, the calm ocean of his brown eyes. Normally you would turn your head after a man like him, giggling about his gorgeous appearance with your friends. But right here and now, you have only eyes for the brown orbs in front of you.

“Let’s breathe together, okay? Breathe in…”

You take a shaky breath in.

“And breathe out…”

You let out your breath, repeating with him over and over again. Slowly but surely, your heart doesn’t seem to pound out of your chest, your senses return to you, even the trembling of your limbs comes to an end.

“What’s your name?”

“(y/n)”, you breathe out.

“(y/n), you did great here. Let’s get you away from this place, you’ve done enough. Will you follow me?”

“Yeah…I think that would be great…”, you mutter.

“I will look after you when all of this is over. Just ask for Kento Nanami. Is that alright?”

Kento Nanami, what a fitting name for the man who walks besides you while still holding your hand in comfort. How gentle he spoke to you this whole time despite his cool appearance.

“Thank you. For everything, Mr. Nanami…”

“Just call me Kento.”

Megumi Fushiguro

It is absolutely dumb and makes no sense at all, but you don’t really care. This night is the best you’ve had since a long time, being out with your friends at summer break is a vibe you’ve missed so damn much these past weeks.

“Truth”, your best friend besides you picks when the bottle lands on her.

“Have you ever had a crush on someone way older than you?”, your other friend asks with a mischievous grin.

“Huh, who doesn’t? Guys my age just don’t hit the same.”

You giggle at her reply. It was obvious that sooner or later, the night would move into that direction. No wonder, given the fact that this is a girl’s night. What better way to celebrate that than with a good chat about each other’s love life?

“Fine, you’re turn.”

The bottle turns on the floor over and over until…

It lands on you.

“Truth or Dare, (y/n)?”

“You know what? I’ll take dare. Because all of your losers only pick truth.”

The girls around you laugh out, playfully beating your shoulder for your comment.

“If you’re this brave. I’ll have something special for you…Go to the gas station and buy…condoms.”

“Condoms?”, you repeat in disbelief.

“Of course.”

You jump up, straightening your clothes and shoulders.

“Nothing easier than that.”

Without thinking twice, you grab your wallet and jacket, leaving the house with the rest of the girls. The next gas station is only a few minutes away. Huh, how boring. Why is buying condoms embarrassing in any way? It doesn’t matter though. After passing such a big dare, you’ll get away with picking truth for the rest of the night. Maybe you will leave anyway when your drink is empty…

“See ya!” you shout towards your friends.

The warmth of the gas station hits you like a wall when you enter the shop, going straight into the back where the condoms have to be. Urgh, why does your head suddenly hurt so bad? You didn’t even drink that much, mostly water and that one cocktail from your bestie. Maybe it really is time for you to go to bed, after all, it’s far past midnight. You said you’ll only stay until 10 anyway, so no one should be mad at you. Damn, why is it so hot in here? You grab a pack on condoms, giggling at the dumb description written in the back.

Suddenly, you literally feel like hitting a wall. Just before your butt hits the ground with full force, a pair of hands pulls you back on your feet.

You feel completely dizzy, mind still trying to comprehend what just happened. Did you really run into a wall?

“Excuse me.”

“Huh?”

Your eyes dart towards, revealing the true wall. He is a boy, in fact. And what a handsome one. His black hair frames his delicate face perfectly, concerned eyes scanning your body up and down.

“Are you okay?”

He lets go of your hand. Huh, what a bummer, you could get used to that feeling.

“Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention”, you explain briefly.

As if in slow motion, both pairs of eyes dart towards your other hand. All colour drains from your face, your desperate attempt to hide the pack of condoms behind your body failing miserably.

Oh god, you want to be swallowed whole by the ground so badly. Why the hell did you have to meet a cute boy when doing some dumb dare?

The boy in front of you clears his throat and scratches his head uncomfortably while taking a few steps back. Is that blush creeping up his face?

“Sorry, I didn’t wanna…disrupt you…”, he mutters.

God, why does this have to be so awkward? Why does your very own face feel like its burning? You blink a few times against the rising embarrassment. Does he think…? Oh god. Please don’t.

“These…These aren’t for me…”, you stutter.

Why did you have to meet him right now? Why not on a nice walk to a café when being in a nice dress, why not at the library with a smart book in your hand? No, with your luck it was clear that you’ll meet the cutest boy you’ve ever seen while buying condoms at a gas station after midnight.

“Sure…I mean, it’s none of my business anyway. I mean we don’t know each other….”

“Yeah…right…I think I’ll go now…”, you mumble, already on your way to sprint past him.

You will never forgive your friends for missing an opportunity like this. Fuck, why does he have to be so damn cute? You feel like slamming your head against a wall.

Repetitive.

With full force.

“Hey uhm…It might be super awkward, but maybe meet at the park tomorrow again?”

Your eyes widen at his sudden request, catching you completely off guard.

“You…What?”, you stumble.

“Forget it…”

He is already on his way to walk past you when you grab his hand out of instinct, making him stop in his tracks.

“No, I would like that!”

“Oh”, he breathes out.

Why is he so surprised by your positive answer when you are the one who should be surprised by this sudden request? He really wants to see you again.

“Well, cool….I don’t wanna stop you from buying condoms any longer, so see you tomorrow?”

Your cheeks heat up all over again in an instant while you brush past him at light speed.

“Yeah…”, you mutter into your jacket.

[bring-forth-his-sac]

The Christmas Party - Chapter 1

Summary: Your first year at Alexandria High is going smoothly, until you accidentally offer to plan the staff Christmas party. To make matters worse? You're stuck planning it with the one person you made a terrible first impression on; Negan.

Tags: Modern AU, Teacher AU, Gossip, Swearing, Pet Names, Slow Burn, Misunderstandings

Word Count: 5.3k

A/N: ok this is partially based on how common Negan's surname is... I mean, Smith?! Really??? Also I have written this very fast and there are many more chapters to come. My plan is to have it complete by Christmas Eve so hopefully you stay tuned until then!!

You tend to avoid Negan Smith. From what you’ve heard, there isn’t a good reason to go near the man. Womanizer. Loudmouth. Curses like a sailor and a professional at ghosting.

But, the job of a teacher sometimes means dealing with people you don’t like. Whether that be talking to a parent who’s convinced their child is a saint or, like in this case, him . 

You haven’t even made it to the Christmas break yet and you’re about to knock heads with another teacher. Great. You suppose this is a good thing considering you’ve managed to make it past Halloween unscathed. 

Still, it’s not a good look to be confronting another teacher in your first year at a new job, especially when he has taught here for years. You sigh, hand automatically raising to block the surprisingly warm rays of the Winter sun as you scan the track and field. 

Ew. Sports. Or more specifically, track. You've never understood appeal to any sports, whether to participate, watch or worse; teach.

With it being midday already, the field is quite busy, with more students mulling around than you anticipated. Some kids sit on the grass surrounding the running track, lacing up sneakers and complaining about upcoming tests.  

On the far side of the track, a smaller group of students mess with the plastic javelins that are stuck in the ground, bouncing them back and forth to see how far they’ll bend. You know you should probably tell them to stop and that it’s some kind of safety hazard to be messing with them but this isn’t your class. 

If it was in the classroom then of course you’d tell them to stop to save your own skin, but out here, you can pretend to have not noticed the incessant messing they’re doing. 

On the actual track is where the bulk of students are, running at a good pace while getting yelled at by some middle aged man with a whistle. The joys of high school.

It takes a certain kind of person to be a teacher, you should know. But to teach gym ? Yeah, that’s some sociopathic shit.

You watch as who you assume is Coach Smith yells at one of the quieter kids to keep up. Well, he’s definitely living up to the loudmouth tag he’s been labelled with.

But that’s not all he has a reputation for. Negan happened to be some of the first gossip you got when you moved here. Well, you’d call it gossip. Others might say it was a cautionary tale or a straight out warning.

Word on the corridor is that he's basically tasked himself to sleep with every female teacher, adding more notches to his bedpost and undoubtedly collecting diseases as if they’re baseball cards.

“You…” the sudden voice catches you off guard, snapping you out of your thoughts as another teacher approaches “do not look like you belong here”.

Another one of the gym teachers, oh goodie. 

Considering the size of the school, there were three in total; Coach Smith aka the town bike, the other coach who teaches basketball and another new teaching addition who deals with the tennis and badminton teams. Despite not knowing the new coach, you’d like to think there’s an unspoken alliance between you two since you’re both newbies this year. 

Unfortunately, luck isn’t on your side today and it’s the one that teaches basketball that approaches you

You put your best generic smile on and shrug. “Yeah, I’m more at home in the classroom,” you agree “I’m the new teacher for Literacy studies”.

He shook his head in response “No fuckin’ kidding, English teacher, eh? They’ll slap a fancy title on anything nowadays”.

You give a small laugh in response, subtly glancing around to make sure none of the kids are in earshot. And you thought you had a potty mouth. 

“And why’re you out here? Checking out what the coaches have to offer?” he comments with a hint of amusement, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he casually leans back against nothing but air, tilting his tall frame.

“Oh I just need a quick word with Coach Smith,” you gesture in the direction of the running teacher, ignoring the latter half of his question. 

“About?”.

You try not to let his crass or nosiness annoy you.  Pushing down your slight irritation, you keep your smile in place “Just a mix up with a student we both have… he stayed late at one of my classes because we had a test, then he was late for gym, got detention, you know the drill”. 

‘Now please fuck off ,’ you so desperately want to add to the end of that sentence, but bit your tongue.

“And what?” the hint of a smirk begin to grace his face “You’re here to get the kid off the hook?”.

“Well, it was my class that kept him behind,” you reply, keeping your gaze on Coach Smith. 

That’s all you were going to say but even with your eyes focused on the other coach, you could sense the man beside you practically sizing you up. A flutter of panic pangs at your heart and for a brief moment, you wonder if this other coach thinks you’re being incompetent, or that you’re somehow in the wrong. 

“I mean, I did give Henry a note explaining why he was late but obviously that wasn’t enough for Coach Smith” you’re starting to ramble and the worst part is, you know it. 

He hums in response, nodding as if he knows all too well “So he’s being a real jackass, huh?”.

“Uh-huh, jackass” you agree, before quietly mumbling “along with a few other things”. 

You know it’s time to stop talking now. The last thing you want is to ramble on about things that are none of your business.

“Oh?” that piques his interest.

“Well, y’know… word travels fast and all that,” that rational part of your brain begs you to stay vague “small town gossip spreads like wildfire”.

“And I am just dying to know what that small town gossip is” he turns his face to you fully, giving you his undivided attention.  

Being truthful, it’s intense. His gaze is welcoming and yet it’s as if he’s waiting for you to slip up, to say the wrong thing so he can swoop in to defend his colleague.

“Oh it’s nothing really,” you quickly backtrack, every fibre in your body screaming how it’s a bad idea to gossip about another teacher “just stupid hearsay”.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” the man coaxes “let me indulge a little”.

Shrugging, you look back at Coach Smith who’s still in the middle of a class and with no intention of stopping anytime soon. 

Don’t do it. It’s not worth it… but can it really be considered gossip when it’s true? 

“I’ve just been told it’s best to stay away” you answer honestly.

“ Me-ow !” he punctuates the word, a large grin on his face and undeniably revelling in the small nugget of information “is there a cat fight on the horizon? One of the other teacher’s already got her claws in him?”.

You laughs at that, mostly out of shock. “Not that I would know,” you reply “but by the sounds of it, he’s got enough claws in him as it is”.

A surprised look spreads across the coach’s face, eyebrows raised and mouth slacking open as he uses his thumb to point to Smith, mouthing “Him? Really?”.

You nod. This is going better than expected. A part of you presumed all gym teachers would be macho men with zero personality but this one’s actually charismatic.  “Guess they really call him coach for a reason,” you jibe, watching as the man’s face shifts into confusion.

“And why’s that?”.

“Well from what I’ve heard, he’s definitely surpassed the status of player… though he’s probably riddled with… y’know” you raise your eyebrows, hoping the insinuation alone would be enough to get your point across.

He chuckles, glancing back at his colleague with a sigh “His poor wife”.

By now, it looks like Coach Smith is slowing to a halt, his students quickly following suit. About time. Though he’s not completely done yet, giving his class a rundown of the lesson and squirting water into his mouth from a water bottle he’s holding a little too high above his head. 

“Yeah,” you sigh solemnly “I heard about that”. 

This piece of information was also included in your warning. Apparently Coach Smith’s wife died a few years back. Cancer. And that’s what subsequently led to his quest to fuck anything that a) has a pulse and b) has a vag. 

Damn, maybe you really are a gossip. 

"It's pretty awful, though," you mutter without thinking, continuing to ramble "I mean, from what I've heard, her side of the bed wasn't even cold and he was already crawling into the beds of other women”.

The man watches you intently, his expression growing flat and unreadable. That’s the shift you feared—the ‘you’ve said too much’ look settling into place.

“But I-“ you’re about to continue, hoping to seem more genuine in your regards when the newest coach appears. 

“Sir! Sir! Have you moved the javelins? I was supposed to use them for my ’Aerodynamics in Training’ lesson but they’re not in the storage room” he blurts out as if this is a national disaster.

The man puts up a hand to stop him “Fa–, Joey , can you not see I’m in the middle of something? And the fuck did I tell you about calling me sir all the damn time?”.

Joey, or well, Coach Joey, stumbles over his words before replying, his eyes darting between the two of them “Oh! Oh, I am so sorry sir– uh, Coach Smith,”.

You’re not too sure what Joey said after that, your brain pausing for a moment to process his words. That can’t be right.  Not when Mr Jones, the economics teacher specifically pointed at the Ken doll that’s still giving the exhausted teenages a pep talk and said that that’s Coach Smith. 

“Coach what?” you blurt, unsure whether you’ve just interrupted Joey or not. You’re surprised the words actually came out coherent, your throat growing tighter by the second. 

“Smith” Joey replies without missing a beat. The other man stays quiet and frankly, you refuse to look his way, not wanting to see the look on his face.

“What?” your generic smile graces your face yet again, a defence mechanism to hopefully stop any genuine facial expressions from leaking out “But I thought… over there… that’s Coach Smith”.

Joey gives you a reassuring smile “It’s ok, it confused me too when I got here”. 

That still doesn’t answer your question.

“He’s Coach Mark Smith,” Joey points passed the two of them and to the Ken doll “and then this is Coach Negan Smith”. He tries to put his hand on Negan’s upper arm but he quickly shrugs him off, gaze trying to catch yours.  

You refuse to meet that gaze, the reality of your fuck up sinking in. While numerous responses whizz around your head, you fail to vocalise any, instead opting to stand there utterly dumbfounded.  

Joey doesn’t notice and laughs to himself “It’s confusing, I know but it gets easier when you just associate Coach Smith with Mark and Coach Negan with… haha, well with Negan”.

Your mouth opens but you have no idea what to say or where to ever start. Not that it matters because you’re cut off by the alleged Coach (Negan) Smith. 

“Or if that doesn’t suit, you can always tell us apart with him being the clean one and me being… What did you say again? Riddled?”.

Oh dear God no.

That makes your look at him, your eyes wide with sheer embarrassment. “What?” Joey speaks up.

The look in Negan’s eye isn’t one of offence or even annoyance. He’s more pleased that he’s caught you in such an elaborate snare, a glimmer of playfulness in his intense stare that tests you endlessly. Before you can even process what to do, your instincts kick in and you use your best teacher voice to say “Henry won’t be going to detention today. He was late and that’s on me, not him so leave him be”. 

Turning on your heels, you quickly walk off and disappear back inside the school building. You don’t look back as you walk away, unwilling to look at the man you were just badmouthing to his face again.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Mondays are usually good days but considering your earlier mishap, you‘re beginning to doubt that. Thankfully, you have a few classes off so you can spend your time overthinking your recent mistake. 

Propping your head up with your hands, you look around the classroom you can now call your own. It’s one of the older rooms in the school, a bit drafty but yours nonetheless. 

With a quick knock at the door, the skeptical face of Ms. Peletier enters your peripheral vision. “Hi! Is it just you in here?,” she asks in a cheery voice, waltzing into the room. 

You give a silent nod and she drops the act.

“I don’t know why I do this to myself. I mean, the kids… it’s like they’re getting more annoying” she huffs, pulling up a chair.

Ms. Peletier, the home ec teacher usually stops by on Mondays. She has a free period at the same time as you and likes to use it venting about how much she hates kids, but also enjoys teaching them and then realizes that maybe she actually likes her job. 

It’s a love hate relationship. 

But today you’re not as eager to listen. “Have I entered the Twilight Zone?” she does another quick glance, double checking there’s no lingering teacher or student outside “Where’s the bubbly ‘Hi Carol!’ that makes me want to rip my hair out?”.

Bringing her attention back to the statue that is you, an eyebrow quirks up “Are you… moping right now?”.

“It’s been a rough morning” you admit. 

“How so?”.

“I bad mouthed another teacher,” you grimace as you explain “to the teacher”.

That doesn’t make sense to Carol, her head tilting to the side like a confused puppy “Huh?”.

You explain the situation briefly: a kid in your class stayed late because of a test but he had gym class afterwards. Despite you giving him a note explaining the delay, Negan gave him detention anyway.

Carol nods along, listening intently. 

“And he told me his gym teacher was Coach Smith, so in my head I was like ‘fuck, ok, this is the infamous womanizer guy’ ”.

“No, you’re getting them mixed up that’s-” Carol stops when she sees the look you give her, vaguely beginning to understand where this story is going.

“Well I didn’t realise that and while I was waiting for Coach Smith as in Mark Smith, I was talking to Coach Smith the second, aka Coach Negan” you want to end the story there and save yourself from reliving the trauma. 

“Ahhhh,” Carol leans back in her seat, drumming her fingers on the desk that separated them. She gives you a laid back smile “Did he ask you out? Is that where this is heading?”. 

You suppress a sigh “No, I started talking about what I thought I knew about Coach Smith but it was actually information I had on Coach Negan Smith and I basically called him a man-whore to his face”.

Carol's face turns blank as she tries to yet again process this. “There’s no way I’m hearing this right” she concludes, though the small shine of amusement in her eyes lets you know that she is in fact computing what she’s hearing. 

Deciding you may as well throw this grenade out there too, you add “Oh and I said he’s awful for screwing around right after his wife died”. Now that bomb almost makes the eyes bulge out of Carol’ head.

“You what?” she splutters, losing all composure.

“It wasn’t like anything bad, I didn't do it mockingly-”.

“ Mockingly ? Oh, you just don’t think, do you?” Whatever sense of amusement that was in Carol’s eyes is overtaken with panic.

“No! No, not mockingly, just like— casually, but obviously I wouldn’t have said it if I knew I was in front of a widower” you hurriedly clarifies “it’s not my fault it’s so confusing with all the Smith’s here!!”.

Carol sinks her head into her hands “Oh god”.  

After a moment of silence, she collects herself “So you’re never going near the gym hall or track and field again, right?”.

“Never,” you swiftly confirm “not talking to either Smith after this too… actually I think this is a good excuse to avoid gyms in general”.

Carol smiles at that, leaving the wave of panic subside. “Oh! Actually,” she takes out her phone “I keep meaning to add you to the teacher group chat. It’s awful and mainly it’s Gregory complaining about one thing or another but I’ll add you anyways!”.

A few seconds later and your phone buzzes: “You have been added to: Alexandria High’s Teacher Midlife Crisis Support Line”.

“Oh… well, that’s a cheery name,” you tilt your head “that’s… good?”.

Carol gives a small laugh as she stands, slipping her phone back into her pocket “Well, we can’t all be as creative as you Ms Literacy Studies”. You laugh, rolling your eyes as she leaves and the bell rings. Maybe today won’t be that bad. You hope that the bad start to the day just means the day will end on a high. 

But you’re wrong.

By the time your last class rolls around, everything is calm. You’ve told Henry he’s off the hook for detention, no one is acting up in your classes and there’s been no gym teachers around. Everything was calm.

“Alright guys,” you announce to the class, glancing at the clock “how’s about you start that grammar worksheet for the last ten minutes of class? If you get it done now then no homework for the night but if not, make sure it’s done by tomorrow”. 

The class immediately starts, mumbling chatter and the sounds of rummaging pencil cases filling the room. 

You look to the clock again, as if it’ll magically have moved at least five minutes. It hasn’t. But that’s ok, ten more minutes until freedom. You can do that.

“Knock knock” an unfamiliar voice enters, catching both you and your students off guard. A few heads look up to the door but none match the ‘oh fuck’ expression that is plastered across your face.

What makes it worse is that he knows it too, basking in your reaction. You try to hide your expression, quickly masking it but the smug look you’re met with tells you it’s too late for that. 

“Coach Negan,” you greet, getting it right this time “what can I do for you?”.

“I’m sure there’s plenty you could do for me” he moves deeper into the room, taking no notice of the students and shooting you a promiscuous grin you ignore. 

Making his way over to your desk, he takes his time peering around at the various trinkets that litter the surface: a mug that says “I’d rather be reading” filled with different pens, a colourful stapler, an empty bowl that was filled with sweets about a week ago, and a stress ball. 

“No sweet treats going?” he asks teasingly “well besides the obvious”. Negan winks at you, making your face scrunch up with a mixture of confusion and repugnance. 

“Is there a reason why you’re here, Coach?” this time you raise your voice a little more, hoping to remind him of the other ears in the room that are undoubtedly listening in.

Concluding that you won’t take the bait that easily, Negan gives you a firm nod “Just hear to let you know detention starts at four o’ five”.

Your eyes go to the students, most of which are focusing on their work. Of course there are some nosy ones that are hanging onto their every word, loving the idea of hearing some juicy teacher gossip. Oh god. The very reminder of gossip makes you want to shiver. 

Lowering your voice to a whisper, you lean across the desk “I already told you, Henry won’t be attending detention today”. 

You debate saying more but with Negan, simplicity seems to be key. The less you say then the less he has to pick apart or use against you in some taunting way.

“I know, I know,” he concedes “you got some big ol’ lady balls for practically demanding I let him off the hook… and for some of the other shit you said”.

Oh for fuck’s sake. Your eyes go wide but you manage to give him a glare as you scan the class, hoping no one heard him. Unfortunately, going off the number of smirks the kids are trying to hide by looking down at their worksheet, they heard. 

You want to argue back, tell him off for using such language in front of the kids you’re in charge of for the next seven minutes but instead, you take a breath. 

After all, you catch more flies with honey.

“And I would like to apologise for what I said,” you keep her voice low, just because Negan has no problem with the kids hearing his side of the conversation doesn’t mean they get to hear your response “what I said was completely inappropriate and insensitive, I’m really sorry and-“.

Looking at his watch, Negan acts as if you aren’t  even speaking let alone issuing him an apology.  “Oh shit, would you look at that, I’ve got to shoot but remember,” he loudly slaps his hands against the desk, poorly creating rhythm as he heads back to the door “you got detention at four o’ five”.

He goes to leave but you speak up again “Wait, what? Me?”.

“Yeah, you're on detention duty” he casually replies. 

No, you’re not. That kind of thing gets rostered usually at the monthly staff meetings and considering this is your first year here, they’re yet to bestow such a vital job upon you. 

“No I haven’t been scheduled for that-“ you’re seriously getting pissed with how much this guy interrupts you.

“Yes, you are, honey,” he says as if this is well known information “so don’t be late”. 

And with that, Negan disappears, leaving you more confused than before. At least he didn’t seem that pissed at you for your previous comments. Still, you don't understand how you didn’t know beforehand that you’re on detention duty or why Negan of all people would willingly seek you out to remind you. 

Before you can contemplate it too much, the bell goes and you reboot yourself back into teacher mode. 

Once everyone has packed up and left, you let out a long huff, packing up your own belongings before heading to the designated classroom for detention. With the rush of bustling kids wanting to leave, you’re able to get there fast, weaving through the current and into the barren classroom.  

Going over to the old cabinet that’s tucked away in the corner, you find the clipboard full of the names of the attendees. You skim it haphazardly, seeing if you recognise any of the names before plonking down at the desk at the top of the room. Although one of your student’s older sisters is supposed to show up, no one that you directly teach is listed, which gives you a strange sense of pride.

Pulling out your phone, your attention span forgets about the clipboard in no time. Just as you do, the phone buzzes in your hand, lighting up with a notification from Alexandria High’s Teacher Midlife Crisis Support Line.

Gregory: Friendly reminder, do not park your vehicles in other people’s spots.

Some students filter into the hall, avoiding eye contact despite the small smile you give each of them. Unsurprisingly, none of them are in a talking mood and take their seats, pulling out homework or some study material to occupy their hour with.

Paul J Monroe : good idea, stop parking in my spot

You move your hand up to cover the smirk tugging at your lips.  Gregory, the vice principal, isn't known for his popularity. His entire personality is marked by his distinct sense of entitlement and self-perseveration. It’s baffling that he somehow ended up as vice principal when his leadership style is rooted in only helping himself.

Scrolling through the list of members on the group chat, you recognize a fair amount of names. Of course Carol and Mr Monroe, the counsellor, are in there. The likes of Ms Espinosa the geography and Spanish teacher is there too, as is Mr Abrams the music teacher, both Coach Smiths and surprisingly the Chaplin, Father Stokes, is there too. Unfortunately, most of the names you don’t know, having not done much socialising since getting here.

Sasha: there was a Christmas lights installation van parked across my spot and Rosita’s, will they be there again tomorrow?

Rosita: if it’s there tomorrow I’m slashing its tires

Rosita: that’s a joke

Gregory: I hired them, they’ll be here all week to make things more festive 

While waiting to see how the others react to that, you look back at the clipboard, your gaze hardening as you look to the very top of the page. There, in black ink, is the date, followed by which school week this is and finally, the name of the teacher on duty. 

And guess what, it sure as shit isn’t your name up there.

If it isn’t for the room full of kids, you would be swearing out loud, having to bite your tongue to stop the words from actually coming out. 

That motherfucker. That sly, riddled and sleazy motherfucker. The name Coach N. Smith is at the top of the page with a horizontal line next to it for him to sign, proving that he did actually show up and do his damn job.  Yanking your phone back up, you stew silently and watch the messages flow.

Rosita: ur shitting me

Sasha: why weren’t we told about this?!

Gregory: this can be discussed tomorrow

Sasha: discussed tomorrow while they’re parked in our spots AGAIN?

Aaron: Does anyone know where we’re going for the Christmas party? Is it still on for next Friday? Need to hire a babysitter haha :)

Rosita: Gregory?? Reply??

Scrolling to the top of the group chat, you tap to see its members, noticing how it says Gregory is now offline. Typical. Thankfully, Aaron’s message moves the conversation in a new direction and teachers begin to lightly debate whether they should go to the Kingdom for the staff Christmas Party or if they should venture further afield. 

Amber: can we not go back to the Kingdom? Pretty sure I got food poisoning last year :S

Gregory: budget for Christmas party is very low this year, if anyone can plan it for next Friday then it can still go ahead. 

Rosita: what about our parking spaces? Hello???????

Rosita is once again ignored by Gregory and the topic of the Christmas party stays. You know you shouldn’t be getting such entertainment from this but watching as the teachers try to assert their points, shooting down what the others have to stay while simultaneously trying to stay as polite as possible provides some great amusement.

And, it’s extremely passive aggressive. Oh, what joy.

One of your favourite moments is the science teacher Mr Porter’s response when Gregory struck down his idea of making the Christmas Party a weekend getaway to the closest city. 

Eugene: For clarification, are you suggesting the staff members in this here group chat don’t have the sufficient financial funds to rent a hotel room for a night or two?

You want to let out a low ‘ooooo’ noise as if you’re watching a sports game. In all honesty, if you weren’t supervising detention, you probably would be making gleeful noises as you read each text. Gregory ignores Mr Porter’s accusation and instead proposes his own idea. 

Gregory: Having it at the school is the best opton, everyone can get there and it’s big enough 

You presume that’s a spelling mistake on his part. The next text comes from one of the Coach Smith’s, the one you haven’t badmouthed. 

Mark: The gym hall can definitely fit everyone

When you see Mark’s name pop up along with the thumbs up emoji he adds to his text, you go into your options for him, deciding to set yourself a little reminder of who’s who.

Mark (Coach Smith): but I’ll be taking next week off for vacay

Sherry: who’s the new number that’s been added ?

“Miss?” You look up as a student approaches with a bored face “can I borrow a pen? Or even a pencil?”.

“Oh sure!” You perk up, dropping your phone on to your lap so the student can’t see. The last thing you need is to be the teacher who leaked the mere idea of a teacher group chat being real. 

Hurriedly typing out your awkward introductory message of yourself to the group, you send it and focus on helping the student. Taking out your little pencil case, you begin rummaging around for a pen you wouldn’t mind a student ruining. 

Mark (Coach Smith): so someone else will have to help Negan set up the gym if we decide to have the party there

Sherry: oh are you the new English teacher?? I haven’t had a chance to meet you yet! hi!

After selecting a black pen, you pause, eyeing the kid with suspicion. “Wait… you spent the whole day at school without a pen or pencil?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

You look down at your messages as the student stalls to answer, rocking back and forth on his heels. There’s a strange socially awkward panic that bubbles in you when you see the new message, knowing you can’t be rude and start texting again when dealing with a student.

But at the same time, the longer you stall in answering, the more you’re convinced you’re coming across as being rude to the group chat.

The kid just shrugs “Yeah.”

“How is that even possible?” you start to ask, but the words fade as your phone buzzes again.

With a silent sigh, you hand the pen over, offering it a quiet farewell. Picking up your phone a little too eagerly, you type out a fast response to Sherry’s question.

You: Yes!! :)

Ok, maybe you went a little overkill with the exclamation points and the smiley face but that’s where panic gets ya. Now that the rush is over, you swipe your finger up a little to look at the message you missed.

Gregory: anyone willing to help plan the Christmas party?

Oh fuck. Your stomach drops as you read the order of messages again. Mark saying he’ll be gone, offering up the gym for the staff Christmas party while knowing full well he’s gone the week leading up to it and won't even be attending.

Sherry asking if you’re the new English teacher. 

Gregory, who would rather ask others to help rather than offer any help himself, wondering if someone else can help set up the party. 

And then you, enthusiastically texting in a yes. Fuck. Please no. No, no, no. That message was in response to Sherry's message!

You put your phone on the table, screen facing down as you lean back in your chair. This can’t be happening. The last person you want to be around is Negan, never mind plan a goddamn Christmas party with him!  

You take some deep breaths, hoping that your message won’t be misread. Surely, it won’t be, not to anyone who was actually paying attention to the different conversations happening.

It buzzes again, louder this time as it vibrates off the table. You don’t want to pick it up. You don’t want to see what it is and yet you still reach for it. Slowly flipping your phone to see the screen, there’s only one new message from the group chat.

It’s Gregory, calling you by your teacher name as he replies…

Gregory: great! I’ll leave it to you and Negan to sort out the finer details

———

Read Chapter 2 here!

gif made from scenepack provided by harleys.scenes on insta <3

[madamealys]

Imagine Aegon is your rival and you end up marrying him 😏 (+21)

Note: your plot is Rhaenyra’s… sort of.

***

You and Aegon are nearly twins. He was born a year after you, so the difference of twelve months bears no difference in how you and him were educated together.

At first, there were too many differences to provide a genuine fondness for one another. In fact, it could be said that, until when you bloomed into a handsome young woman, there was nothing but rivalry between you two.

Such is the scenario you and him grow into. Mutual teasings developing to rivalry as years grow by. To worse all, the king favouring you over Aegon means you might inherit his throne, probably breaking the long and old Westerosi tradition where male inheritance prevailed over female’s.

Nevertheless, in spite of your stepmother’s attempt to fuel this rivarly, as you and him grow, these sentiments are slowly leaving space to let another grow.

How’d you know, when Aegon loves to tease you? It’s this kind of teasing that irritates you. The acknowledged prince of Dragonstone seems to take a delight in sweeping off a smirk off your lips whenever he has the chance.

Not to mention he does so with the support of Queen Alicent, who envies the stepdaughter’s alluring beauty. Your long silver locks and brightening lilac gaze together with your now womanly curves makes you the object of praiseful poems, overshadowing this woman your father calls wife.

“Sister, long time no see”, greets Aegon when spotting you, coming by yourself after riding Sunfyre.

His eyes linger at your curves, noticing that even your riding clothes cannot conceal the woman you’ve become.

Though you too admit he’s grown to a fine man, you’d prefer to have a knight named Criston Cole as your husband instead of him.

“Aegon”, you despise him like always. “You just saw me earlier today with our… family.”

Not in the mood to be around him further, you try to get your steps faster in direction to your privy chambers. Unfortunately, Aegon is quick too.

“Running from me?!”

“Oh, you don’t say, Master Knoweth It All.”

“Leave that title to Daeron. He’s the one to become a maester anyway”, says Aegon, not missing your efforts in concealing a smirk.

And then of course he stops right before you. You are surprised by his bluntness, but more so for noticing how taller he is.

“Aegon…”, and your eyes scan his well build muscles in an effortless move to escape his intent stare at you. “What do you think you’re doing? Mistaking your royal sister to a whore?”

Aegon dramatically sighs, but you spot amusement behind his eyes when you dare to raise yours.

“Y/N Targaryen”, and here he boldly pins you against the wall, his hands gently holding your wrists, thus impending you of leaving. “Always proud.”

“You and I never saw eye to eye”, you hope not to sound too nervous, but for a strange reason you feel yourself dripping wet. “To come after me like that… one can only presume it is hardly for brotherly reasons.”

He tilts his head, eyeing you up and down.

“You underestimate me, Y/Nickname”, and you detect some irritation in his remark.

“Your deeds, my darling, have not left me with many choices, have they?”, you tilt your head, and Aegon finds some hope in how you hold back his gaze.

You both hear steps before you find chance to remove yourself off his dangerous presence. You best avoid him—in order to preserver whatever reputation you have, or maybe to shield your pride.

Aegon, distracted by the subtle arrival of Aemond, sighs annoyed when seeing he misses you again.

“You know… I’ll never understand how the fuck you poorly disguise the love you have for our dear sister behind a hate you lack.”

“Don’t get me started, Aemond. Rhaenyra has the affection of our father for a starter.”

“Does she? Not even Laena has this amount of attention father has towards you.”

A sensitive topic which Aegon hopes to avoid. Like usual, he prefers to resolve this by changing topics.

***

Aegon’s eyes are found staring at you again as you slide inside the great hall where a ball on behalf your father’s name day is given. You are wearing in red and black Targaryen colors, your locks perfectly braided and your skin is embellished with jewelry.

You like the attention, to be the center of every man and every woman’s eyes, but nothing warms your body than the way your father’s heir—for that’s what he is now—looks at you.

And when he notices you look back, he gives you a sensual smirk that makes you weak in your knees. Suddenly the gown is too tight. But you rather focus somewhere else. Someone else.

A knight named Criston Cole extends his hand out to you, which you pleasantly take—much to Aegon’s consternation. You notice the weight of his stare, the evident disapproval in his eyes.

As melody begins to be played and you and the shiny knight dance together, you cannot help yourself but taking a peak of Aegon’s jealousy. He cannot conceal it, he struggles against it and it’s when he decides to turn his attention to something else that you find yourself fearful for losing him to his wenches.

It’s when you realize that you have grown fonder to this brat you are related to. More than your pride cares to admit.

But who’d know your darkest secret might set alight when the king stands and asks for a minute, prompted to make an announcement that will shock all?

“I am found in this delicate position upon which a king is found contemplated the two heirs the Gods provide me. In order to make my conscience in accordance with the old traditions to our house, I hereby declare the betrothal of my eldest and most loved daughter, Y/N, with my dearest son and heir Aegon.”

Oh.

You couldn’t see it coming, could you?

***

Aegon makes sure to prevent Sir Criston Cole to meet you. Having noticed what happened in the ball, the prince decides to deliver the message he’s no man to share.

“Always concerned about me”, you muse, when noticing he’s following you.

“Indeed. You are my soon to be wife”, and he once again has the control of you. “Y/N… Do not slip off me again.”

You turn at him, surprised to find yourself trapped in his needs.

“What do you think I am? A man who lives after his wenches?”, he scowls at you as you two stand right in front of the door of your privy quarters.

You tilt your head.

“Again, this speech? Aegon, we cannot evolve from rivalry. We’ve tried this before and thanks to your dear mother, friendship between us isn’t working.”

“Rivals we may be, but there’s more. Deeper, I know. Let me show you.”

With no waiting for your response he finally holds your face and dives to your lips. You gasp out of surprise, but the way his tongue pursuits yours in a domineering rhythm makes you moan rather than push him off.

You want him and your body shows it. He knows, he feels his body electrified by the mere contact with yours. As he kisses you passionately, Aegon makes clear he owns you. And you forget your pride by letting being owned.

No fear, nothing to apart one from the other remains when the dragon fire sparks. He opens the door, showing a sort of confidence never before familiar to you.

You want more of him, you let him dominate you, and when he lies you down in bed…

“We cannot…”, your reasonable self still lies awake, though breathless you are after this intense kiss and the way he looks at you makes you forget why you should give ears to reason when he’s going to be your husband anyway.

“Silence, darling. I won’t ruin you for our day”, he smirks at you.

Lying beside you, he lifts the skirts of your gown all the whilst he gazes at you. To your astonishment, you don’t find lust in his eyes, but a different feeling—one of the kind you fear to disclosure.

“Cannot I admire you?”, he asks you, no more with the prideful and arrogant mask he wears. “You look at me as if I am different than you’ve judged.”

His hands slowly caressing your thighs before resting over your pubic hair make difficult to you reason with his words, but you try to keep the reins of yourself.

“I never thought…”, you hesitate, unsure as to how to word your own insecurities.

“I never hated you, Y/Nickname”, and here Aegon leans to brush your lips all the whilst his slender fingers move to your womanhood. “I’ve always desired you.”

And as he kisses you, muffling the sounds that come out of you as you burn under his skillful fingers, you experiment a sort of delight never before tasted.

His fingers go deeper in you, wet in touch with the liquid you produce. Aegon is aroused at the way you react, like calling him to fuck you the way you deserve; his thoughts are messy, all he wants is you.

Then he parts the kiss only to gaze at you, the proud princess, humbled by his fingers. You spread your legs wider, your eyelashes are barely open at how he touches you, nice and slow at first before fingering you harder.

“Oh my…”, you turn your head at him. “Aegon!”

The prince smirks at how you call his name.

“Yes?”

“Aegon, please!”, you cry out sensually, legs already heavy, beginning to levitate as your belly experiences butterflies.

“Give in, my sweet”, he brushes his lips against yours, hardened just by how you call his name.

But to your slight irritation, he doesn’t kiss you. Yet he moves his lips to your neck, there staying until…

So suddenly.

So intensely.

So… unexpectedly.

He replaces his fingers with his eager mouth. Aegon holds firmly your hips, diving his tongue right into the core of your womanhood. He does so with no decency, his tongue licking the walls of your cunt, spinning and sucking every bit of you.

“Aegon!”, you delight yourself in this new bliss, enjoying to ride his beautiful face, pumping into his mouth, arching your back desperately. “AEGON!”

You don’t mind being loud, but when you rise yourself, you ride him all right, and it feels good, it feels sinful, it feels like paradise.

You owe him now, and when he raises his eyes to meet tour lilac ones, a smirk crosses his lips and you feel so aroused… so bloody hot, that you cum not only once, but twice, thrice even.

And he drinks every bit of your juices, still digging his fingers against your bum, slapping it nicely before dropping to your side.

“My Gods”, you lean sensually against him. “Aegon…”

“Was it good, my darling?”, he holds your chin, reading in your eyes the defeat of your pride, the victory of his pursuits. “I will fuck you like that in many days ahead of our marriage.”

Aegon likes the view of your meek smile, and he caresses your face before kissing you gently.

“I best go. I shall not ruin my bride.”

“Aegon!”, you protest when seeing him stand and adjust himself.

“What? You are my princess”, he says, “my queen to be. Not any wench I can do as I please.”

You sigh heavily, very frustrated. That night, you secretly wish you were his dear, little whore. But you had to content yourself with using your hand.

***

The marriage proves to be a successful match. The feast surprises the guests by showing former rivals in harmony. Some of them think it’s a show you and Aegon play for the sake of your father, king Viserys, but it can be said, in the words of dear Helaena:

“A joyful occasion to prevent tempest; greater kings shall come from this nest; a war was avoided, but another is yet to come… prepare yourselves, easier is said than done.”

Like usual, none pays too much to her words, in spite of Aemond shooting Helaena a meaningful glance.

You are dressing red and your now husband is dressing green for his mother, but other than that.. you are positively surprised for enjoying how this is going.

“We are great together”, says Aegon, after you two shared a dance; now sitting on the table, he wants more of you.

You give him a smirk, locking gazes as you sip your wine.

“No one can beat us, darling.”

“Truer words have never been spoken.”

And here he stands, offering his hand.

“Let us show one more time how we came to surpass this rivalry instigated by all.”

“Another dance? Never took you for a dancer”, you smile at him.

Aegon smiles the brightest when saying:

“I am many things you are yet to disclosure, sweet Y/Nickname.”

And the dragons danced.

***

Finally by yourselves, you give him the charge. Aegon begins by undoing your elaborated braid before unlacing your gown.

“So beautiful. An angel.”

“Some say that we Targaryens are above from men and gods”, you give him a long glance, smiling almost seductively as you enjoy his gaze all over your body.

Once the gown falls off your body, showing your nude state, you feel his lascivious eyes devouring your curves as he stops before you and remove his own clothes.

“We are certainly more divine than many mortals. Hence why only a dragon can wed another”.

He arches his back and messes with his hair, straightening himself as he takes a seat at your marital bed. You drink of the view: his features more manly, his chest with some old scars acquired in training, and his manhood…

Oh it has your attention, indeed.

You step forward and before you know, you get to your knees. Aegon spreads his legs, groaning, already full erect before you.

“This shrew woman is going to be tamed”, he says firmly, yet there is a sweetness in his voice when he holds your face that makes you look at him, completely undone. “My prideful wife on her knees for me.”

“Aegon…”, you moan sensually, finding unbearable to taste this fire and not yet get burnt by it.

He looks at your round, full breasts, biting his lip as he stares at your nipples. The prince wants you in every indecent manner that is possible, but his mind is blank when you, impatient, take hold of his erect manhood.

“Y/N…!”, he groans loud.

You smirk at him.

“Tell me you want me.”

“Badly. No woman of the realm can match your alluring beauty. Many I’ve fucked thinking of you. Wishing I could kiss your lips and fuck your cunt.”

You shiver at his words.

“So indecent.”

“As if you are hardly innocent”, Aegon says in between gritted teeth. “I still recollect when you let me spot you bathing naked at the lake. And you touched yourself, seeing I was there.”

You blush at the memory.

“Rivals, uh?”, Aegon chuckles before moaning louder. “So much for the narrative of the shrew.”

His moanings are so sensual, so captivating. You like how he calls you that, acknowledging your pride, your flaws, but your virtues, you as a woman of your own.

It’s when you get too thirsty and…

“Y/N!”, Aegon is the one tamed by your skillful tongue. When looking at you, seeking for his approval, every doubt of your inexperience dies. “Oh let me teach you how it’s done.”

And you take his full length, all of it, licking it, swallowing his precum and going wild with the tip of his cock. It feels so good to be commanded, to subdue to him like this…

“Rise, my princess. I want to have my cum inside you, not in your mouth. Not today.”

And you obey, having his lips clashed against yours. In this night, you and I are together the way you’ve always secretly desired.

He possesses you perfectly, throbbing carefully within you, matching his hips with yours. Aegon pins your hands above your head, treating you kindly.

When he takes your breasts with his tongue, Aegon knows you get louder and he takes his time. Getting to know you carnally is fulfilling his naughtiest wishes.

One moves with the other in a slow, soaked pace, with bodies entangled as one.

However, towards the end of it, as each finds the climax, you turn at him and find him looking at you.

No more lust, but that same something you feared to name is what lies behind his eyes.

“This isn’t about copulating”, says Aegon, sounding more insecure than he likes. “I hope you know this.”

“You are my husband now, Aegon.”

“It is but a formality. I want you to know how I feel for you is beyond titles and traditions”, and he’s on his elbows now, searching for your face as he strokes your cheek. “I love you, Y/N.”

It is a beautiful sight when you assimilate his words. Aegon sees the confusion stamped behind your eyes, moving to a slight skepticism before reasoning to it.

And you smile because you feel the same.

“My rogue prince”, you hold his face too. “I love you, you bastard.”

In between chuckles, he kisses you. Like a needy boy, he buries his head in your neck. Likewise, you cuddle onto him.

One needs the other. Beyond saving a dynasty, Aegon and you saved each other.

[tgmsunmontue]

Season to Taste - 26/? WIP

Explicit Hangster - Celebrity Chef Bradley and Naval Aviator Jake Seresin who have a relationship spanning the globe before they realize how tightly bound they are to one another. Heading into this little world.

PROLOGUE/ONE TWO THREE FOUR FIVE SIX SEVEN EIGHT NINE TEN ELEVEN TWELVE THIRTEEN FORTEEN FIFTEEN SIXTEEN SEVENTEEN EIGHTEEN NINETEEN TWENTY TWENTYONE TWENTYTWO TWENTYTHREE TWENTYFOUR TWENTYFIVE

CHAPTER TWENTYSIX

                “You cannot eat your weight in ice-cream. It’ll kill you.”

                “Stronzata. Worse I’ll be is sick. I just thought that he’d maybe come here…”

                Vi lets out a sigh and drops onto the sofa beside him, forces him to shuffle over so she can snuggle into his side and she reaches for the spoon and takes a mouthful of ice-cream. He doesn’t both protesting, he’s already gone through one tub and he’s already starting to feel sick, but it’s giving himself something else to focus on. He isn’t heart broken so much as he is disappointed.

                “You did say he wasn’t the one.”

                “Well… no. But I still sort of hoped he’d maybe move here.”

                “America might be home to you, but it’s…”

                “Yeah. Okay. Why would he want to uproot his entire life and leave his family behind.”

                “Not to mention not having a job here. And his English sucks.”

                “Ugh. I know. I know okay? I was just…”

                “A naïve optimist?”

                “Apparently.”

                “Hmm. Well. You have the heart or a romantic at least, even if it’s the only Italian thing about you.”

                “Fuck off…” Bradley laughs, shoving into her and she grins back and he guesses she’s done what she set out to achieve, and that was to cheer him up.

…            …            …

                “Fucks sake Leonardo, what did those onions do to you?”

                “Nothing, I’m just…”

                “Missing your boo?”

                “Fuck off Vi.”

                “That’s not a no.”

                “I’m… wound a little tight. Yeah. I’m missing him.”

                “Missing something, that’s for sure,” one of the sous chef mutters and Bradley shoots her a glare and Vi snorts but continues in Italian.

                “Yeah, no shit. Not just him but the sheer amount of sex you got used to while you were shacked up. Everyone’s been getting it in the neck and have sent me to be the sacrificial lamb.”

                “What?”

                “You know phone sex exists right?”

                “I can’t ask him to have phone sex with me!”

                “Why not? It’s not like you two haven’t had plenty of in person sex.”

                “He hasn’t raised it. I don’t want to…”

                “Oh my god, how are both as idiotic as each other? Have you considered that he’s going to be just as horny as you?”

                “Yeah, but it’s not like he can easily sneak off and jerk off whenever the mood strikes him!”

                “Like you can? Send him a series of messages or pictures so when he does have a moment, he can and then maybe he’ll return the favor. Or you know. Be an adult and fucking talk about it. Cazzo!”

                Bradley looks down at the pulverized mess of onions. There is finely diced and then there’s the slurry he’s created in front of him and he pulls a face and sets it aside. He can use it in a soup. Vi does have a point though and he guesses he’s going to need to see what steps he can put in place and maybe see Jake sooner than he thought.

…            …            …

                Having Admiral Kerner know his name is unnerving, although it does wonders for his reputation, it’s not like he’s related to Jake at all. Plus those he considers sort-of friends are happy to share the baked goods Leo has taken to sending about every four to six weeks. It’s after the second package that Jake takes the time to look up the 1986 Top Gun class with Nick Bradshaw, curious to know who else might be lurking in Leo’s past.

                Holy shit.

                The knowledge that Leo knows one admiral is surprising, but the idea he might know more is mind boggling. There are some absolute legends in this class and he wonders exactly how many have kept tabs on Leo. Clearly Admiral Kerner considers him some sort of family, but there are others, like Maverick Mitchell and Iceman Kazansky and Warlock Bates. Slider Kerner is right there and damn Jake wishes he could ask him how he got his callsign. Obviously Leo would much rather have his dad around, but he has people willing to step into the space left. He knows all about Leandro and Silvia, and Vi and all of Leo’s extended Italian family. He knows there is a godfather he doesn’t talk to, and an Uncle Tom he does, although Leo’s only mentioned him once in passing, face twisted with something Jake couldn’t place.

                Three admirals from one Top Gun class though, that seems disproportionally high, but he also guesses with the ages of everyone and their skill sets it’s maybe not uncommon. He thinks about Leo’s godfather, the person who pulled Leo’s USNA papers and sent him to fleeing to another continent. He frowns and wonders how you pull someone’s papers, do you just have to be their legal guardian? Or was it a favor called into someone higher up in the chain of command. Leo hadn’t said his godfather was in the service, but Jake is starting to suspect he might have been, even if he maybe isn’t now and he studies the photo closely, wonders if any of the men in the photo are Leo’s godfather.

…            …            …

                It’s been a few months now and work is insane and he knows he’s wound up, but he also hasn’t had the time, energy or, frankly, courage, to raise the idea of maybe sexting or sending slightly more risqué pictures. He knows his temper is shorter than usual, and he’s trying his utmost to keep it in check, although when he’s being filmed and they want the drama he lets it fly, glad to have the excuse. He ignores Vi’s eyerolls and is apologetic when he snaps. He counting down in days now to when he will next see Jake, a trip to Japan where Jake will be having some shore leave and he’s doing his best to keep it a surprise but he cannot contain his excitement. Vi has worked her magic and he’s got four days of filming a guest spot on one of their cooking competition shows, after which he’ll be able to see Jake for two days.

                Two days is nothing, not really. But it is still better than nothing and it’s definitely better than waiting another three months before Jake’s deployment ends. Because Bradley knows Jake has other people in his life, that as much as he might like to monopolize all of his time when he’s not working, it’s not a realistic expectation to have. So he will work his ass off now so when Jake is on leave he too can be too. Sort of. He’s not sure if he’ll ever not be thinking about cooking.

                The sauce initiative has taken off, and he’s insisted on any profits that Maria was going to send his way are instead directed to the research around early onset dementia, which had made Maria call him a bastard, but he’s sure it’s because he’d maybe made her cry. He doesn’t need the money though, and while his signature is on the bottles it’s definitely a joint operation, although they use a local commercial kitchen and small-scale bottling plant, there are definitely limited editions because Maria refuses to use any tomatoes not grown on their farm. Bradley’s more than okay with that, as long as Jake continues getting his own supply.

                After his conversation with Maria a few weeks ago he’d found himself in a group chat with all of Jake’s sisters, which has been a great source of childhood photos and stories, but also sharing news or anecdotes about their day-to-day lives and Bradley wonders what the hell he did to have yet another family just open themselves up and include him so effortlessly in their lives. He’s well aware that they’re doing it because of his relationship with Jake, but when a package arrives of pictures that Jake’s nieces and nephews have drawn for him, a painting done by Olivia of Jake working picking tomatoes, handmade wooden utensils that Maria admits to making in her spare time… None of them had to do any of that and it makes him both grateful and also miss Jake’s family almost as much as he misses Jake. Another reason why he’s happy to go and spend time with Jake at his home.

TWENTYSEVEN

[voicesfoundmymemories]

You've started something you can't get out of by the way, my requests (demands) will be met. 🧶

Mmm craving a Nanami x reader kinda thing, I've gathered guidelines all would be preferred but I'm happy at two.

"I’d feel much better if you’d let me walk you home.”

“If I asked you to stay, would you?”

Is that my shirt?” “You mean our shirt?”

Your cooperation is greatly appreciated.

Sincerely, 🎚️

(Me note: thank you for the demand request! We love nanami and I hope you enjoy!) P.S sorry I didn't add in the last one I forgor but maybe it can be a follow up in the near future.

Cw: Mugging on the news, corporate jobs Word Count: 732

Safe and Sound

"Crime continues to plague the city as a slew of new muggings have been reported. While we don't know what has caused the influx in armed robberies, the police have given out tips on how to prevent these..."

You let your shoulders drop, exhaling as you close your computer. You'd worked late again, and now it was getting dark out.

You stand up, stretching a bit as you look around at the basically empty office. 

It's quiet, and without the droning of your coworkers the office sounds almost peaceful. The hum of a printer in another room, the tired lights buzzing. 

You make your way down to the entrance of the building, absentmindedly trying to fit your laptop into its bag amongst the folders that didn't belong in there.

In your struggle you didn't hear the footsteps slowly approaching you, nor the brisk "ahem" that followed.

"Are you planning to walk home alone at this time of night?" You look up from your struggle, a folder in hand as your eyes meet the blonde man's.

"Oh, Kento. You could've scared me-" Your lips inch with a smile. "Yeah, I don't live far from here."

"Well that's even worse. There's been muggings around here lately. It was on the news." He chides.

"Nanami I've been working here for over a year. You trust my work don't you?" You raise an eyebrow at him.

"...What does that have to do with-"

"Then trust my ability to stay vigilant!" You fix your bag onto your shoulder, having gotten everything to fit nicely. "Besides, what'll they take? My laptop can make eggs if I open more than 3 tabs at once." 

He huffs, looking at you with warm eyes despite his attempt to be stern.

"If you're going to walk home do it earlier in the evening. But since it is so late, I should come with you." He says with a finality, shrugging on the suit jacket he'd been holding on his arm. 

"Come with me?" Your brows raise as you try to conceal your excitement.

"Yes. I'd feel much better if you'd let me walk you home, no matter how... vigilant, you may be." He opens the door with an expectant look on his face and you couldn't hold in your big smile as you walked through, eyeing him.

The two of you walk down various streets in comfortable silence, eventually seeing your apartment building up the road.

"Should I count this a mini date? Or are we still, 'unacquainted' with each other?" He scoffs, adjusting your bag on his shoulder.

"You aren't going to ever let that die are you. Can we not move past that?" A small smile pulls at the corner of his lips. "Besides, I think we've become familiar over the year." He glances down at your wrist, still wearing the silly bangle he'd bought for the office secret santa. 

"If you'd like to consider this a mini date, you can, but I'd much rather take you on a real one." You turn around, mouth agape in shock.

You see his eyes flicker with amusement as you become increasingly flustered, trying to form a coherent thought. "You're serious?"

"Have I built a reputation for jokes?" He muses and you are struggling to keep your cool.

"Well no... A real date, would be- nice." You eye him, reaching a hand out for your bag.

He looks up at the building, "Let me walk you to your door."

"It's a two floor complex, the hallway is visible from the outside." You follow his gaze.

"I don't do half-assed jobs. Now come on, darling." You follow him up the stairs, your heart beating wildly in your chest as you're left to think about his proposal.

You get to your apartment, looking through your keys and opening your door. "Thanks for walking me home, Kento." You say softly. Neither of you wanted this to end, eyes meeting in a silent dance of emotions.

Nanami sucked in a breath. "Of course-"

"Would you-" You blurt out, steadying the heartbeat currently thrumming in your ears. "If I asked you to stay, would you?"

His shoulders dropped, like he'd been dying to say the same and you'd beat him to it. "I would."

Your smile matched his as you backed up into your apartment, letting him in. "Do you want tea? I have chamomile." "I'd love that."

[aectpen]

cool in my book - loser sung hanbin x boxer reader

m.list

pairing: sung hanbin x fem!reader

synopsis: reader helps hanbin get revenge on his bully

words: 1.3k

you were doing your usual routine of roaming the halls during the lunch period at school. you told yourself it was calming, and you didn’t need to spend lunch with anyone. but it was because you kinda, no not kinda, you literally had no friends. 

you weren’t friendless in a “oh she’s so shy, i feel horrible for her” way. people thought you were mean and intimidating off of the first glance. sure, you did play into it with your not so nice attitude. getting yourself into plenty of fights, but hey it was always their fault.

you could hear whimpering coming from around the corner. you contemplated walking in the other direction, not wanting to go by them. but, your curiosity got the best of you. who was crying? you wanted to be nosey and guess what happened to them.

once you turned the corner and caught sight of who it was, you stopped in your tracks. the boy from your math class. why would someone have a problem with him? he only comes to school to do his work. he has a reputation of being the quiet, nice guy.

he glanced up at you, his nose and lips smeared with blood, clutching his stomach in pain. while you were known for being quite mean, you weren't immune to moments of vulnerability. seeing his quivering lips and his tear stained cheeks evoked an unavoidable sense of guilt.

after debating on walking away from him, you finally decided to help him, dragging him to the nurse’s office. you sat next to him while the nurse gave him an ice pack and returned to her desk.

 “you could come in with a gun shot wound and they’ll give you frozen vegetables.” you commented, earning a faint giggle from him. “who did that to you?”

“you can just go now.” he looked away.

“come on, i won’t judge.” you nudged him.

“yoon jihyun.”

you looked at him in disbelief. “you’re telling me you let that scrawny ass boy beat you up?” 

“hey! you said you wouldn’t judge!”

“okay, i’m sorry. but why would he do that?” you couldn't help but wonder how he managed to find himself in such a situation when he had his nose buried in a textbook 99.9% of the time.

he scratched the back of his head. “well, i said no to cheating on a test for him.”

“come on.” you pulled him up from the chair.

“where are we going?” he jerked his arm back.

raising an eyebrow, you replied. “we’re gonna jump him.”

“i don’t know who you think i am, but i don’t do that stuff.”

“okay, whatever. meet me right after school at the front gate.”

he wasted no time, practically sprinting to the school entrance the moment classes ended. he didn't have the slightest idea about your intentions, but he had no intention of either wasting your time or incurring your wrath.

"good, you're on time. i like that," you commented casually as you walked right past him.

he trailed closely behind. "where are you taking me?"

"you just love asking questions. what's your name?" you inquired.

"sung hanbin."

"my name is—" you began, but he interrupted.

"yn. everyone knows your name."

"now, can you tell me where we're going? this is the opposite direction of my house, and i have to get home to study," he said, glancing at you as you cranked up the music blaring in your headphones.

you finally disclosed the destination to him once you were down the street from it, nudging him to get his attention.

"a gym? i really don't have time for a workout," he said, considering walking away.

"next time you let him beat you like that, he'll do far worse than leave you with cat scratches and a belly ache," you reasoned. "i'm a boxer, i can teach you a thing or two about fighting back."

upon arriving at the gym, you guided him to the octagon. "take it all off," you instructed, gesturing to his school uniform.

"all of it?" he felt a slight blush tinting his cheeks.

“no, dipshit. leave some room for imagination.” you began putting on sweatpants and discarding your dress shirt and blazer.

he hesitantly took off his dress shirt, shoes, and blazer. “seriously, are you gonna beat me up next?”

he sounded extremely genuine. you couldn't help but laugh.

the rest of the afternoon was dedicated to teaching him various fighting techniques, but you noticed his gentleness. he wasn't a terrible fighter; he simply held back, unwilling to inflict harm on anyone.

“i don’t want to hurt you!” he held his bands behind his back.

“hanbin, i’m asking you to throw a punch. it doesn’t have to connect” you pulled his arms from behind him.

“but what if it does, then you start bleeding. then you’ll hate me.” he pouted.

hanbin’s mannerisms did warm your heart. at least there was still good people out in the world.

after the training session, you sprawled out on the floor, munching on a granola bar. rolling over, you glanced at hanbin, who sat there with his tank top clinging to his skin, his hair damp, and his gaze fixed on the wall. you had to admit, he looked hot. the school uniform certainly didn't do him justice.

you were oblivious to the fact that he had returned your steady gaze, your eyes moving over his biceps and tracing the veins that snaked up his hands.

"is there something on my face?" he asked in a soft tone.

you couldn't help but laugh at the striking contrast. "if our classmates saw you like this, they'd be all over you," you remarked boldly.

he scratched his head, asking, "is that a good or bad thing?"

you stared at him in disbelief. "i've never met someone simultaneously so smart and dumb, sung hanbin. i was saying that you look really attractive."

“oh! thank you,” a wide smile spreading on his face. “i mean, you’re really.. pretty.” he awkwardly looked away from you, twiddling his thumbs.

the next day, during the lunch period, you concocted a plan to get revenge on jihyun for hurting hanbin. after spending the day with him, you only felt more angry that he left hanbin crying in the hallway.

"wait right here," you instructed as you left hanbin in an empty room.

"sure thing," he replied, taking a seat at one of the desks.

you walked to the cafeteria and scanned it for jihyun, quickly hearing his loud voice. “jihyun! can i talk to you for a second?” 

surprisingly, jihyun followed you to the classroom where hanbin was waiting. he pointed at hanbin and asked, "what's this about?"

you rested your hands on your hips. "i'm giving you a chance to apologize to him."

“since when did you of all people become mother theresa.” he laughed. “and you. don’t you feel embarrassed? you can’t handle your stuff like a man? don’t make me bitch you again.”

“don’t talk to him like that,” you punched him square in the jaw.

he looked at you with pure anger before lunging straight at you. pushing you against a desk.

but before his fist could connect, hanbin held his arm back and forced him to the ground. jihyun tried getting up, but hanbin repeatedly punched him. 

you stood off to the side wanting to stop him from sending jihyun to the hospital, but you were highkey impressed. he definitely always had that in him. 

hanbin stopped once jihyun stopped fighting back.

“damn, hanbin. not bad.” you held out your fist.

“i’m telling the principal. i’m getting him expelled!” jihyun cried out.

you saw a flash of panic on hanbin’s face. the last thing he wanted was to get in trouble in school. did you corrupt him?

“you’re not gonna get in trouble,” you reassured him. “i’ll take the blame.”

“no, you can’t. it’s my fault you’re in this mess anyway.”

“my highest grade is a D+. i don't think they’ll lose sleep if i get into another scuffle."

“you people make me sick.” jihyun held his nose and ran out the room.

you two laughed at his dramatic reaction. 

“hanbin, you’re cool in my book.” 

“you were always cool in my book.” he responded.

[scrollonso]

Fanboy — Pedroscar (Ft. Sargecchi)

Oscar had been pacing in front of Logan's hotel room for what felt like hours — though in reality, it had barely been five minutes. His mind raced as he replayed the same scenarios over and over, trying to figure out how to frame his request without sounding too desperate. Every time he thought he had the perfect approach, doubt crept in. What if Logan laughed at him? Or worse, what if Logan told Marco and then Marco told Pedro? The sheer thought of it made Oscar feel like a schoolboy with a crush, which, in a way, he kind of was.

Logan had been seeing Marco for a while now — well, kind of. They weren’t official yet, but Oscar knew it was only a matter of time. Hell, Marco already had a small tattoo on his thigh dedicated to the American, a tiny symbol that Marco swore was just for them. It was the kind of thing that made Oscar simultaneously cringe and feel envious. Logan had it all: a blossoming relationship with a MotoGP star, the perfect insider access, and now, by extension, a way for Oscar to meet Pedro Acosta.

Pedro Acosta. The name alone made Oscar’s pulse quicken. Pedro had captivated him from the first moment he saw him on his bike back in 2021, far before he got to MotoGP. The way he handled himself on the track, the sharp focus in his eyes, the post-race interviews when his accent was at its thickest — it was all too much. Oscar had tried to brush it off as a passing infatuation, but deep down, he knew it was more than that. And now, thanks to Logan’s connection with Marco, Oscar saw a golden opportunity he couldn’t let slip through his fingers.

Gathering every ounce of courage, Oscar finally stepped up to Logan’s door and knocked. His heart pounded in his chest as he waited, each second stretching out painfully. When the door opened, Logan stood there, fresh from a shower, hair slightly damp, looking as relaxed as ever.

“What’s up, mate?” Logan asked, leaning casually against the doorframe.

Oscar didn’t even bother with small talk. He was too wound up for that. “Logan, you have to ask Marco to get me a pass to the next Grand Prix,” he blurted out, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback. He crossed his arms, giving Oscar a curious look. “What? You’re not even into MotoGP like that.”

Oscar sighed, feeling like the weight of his crush on Pedro was the worst-kept secret in the world. “Look, I just really, really want to meet Acosta, alright?” he admitted, his voice dropping a notch. “You know I’ve had a crush on him forever.”

Logan's expression shifted from curiosity to amusement, a knowing smirk spreading across his face. “Oh, that’s what this is about,” he said, drawing out the words for effect. “You want me to get Marco to invite you so you can swoon over Pedro? You could’ve just said that, mate.”

“Yes!” Oscar’s desperation was fully on display now, his hands coming together in a pleading gesture. “I’m begging you, Logan. Please. You know Marco can get us into the paddock, right? Just mention it to him. Please!”

Logan snickered, clearly enjoying the sight of his normally composed friend unraveling like this. “Alright, alright, don’t get all dramatic,” he said, waving his hand dismissively. “I’ll talk to Marco, but no promises. Besides,” he added with a mischievous grin, “if Pedro notices you, I’m never letting you live it down.”

Oscar’s eyes lit up, his earlier anxiety melting away. “You’re a legend, Logan. Seriously, I owe you one. I’ll do anything.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Logan said, rolling his eyes good-naturedly. “Just don’t embarrass me in front of Marco or his rider friends. I’ve got my own reputation to think about.”

Oscar nodded eagerly, already imagining what it would be like to finally meet Pedro. The thrill of being in the paddock, seeing Pedro up close, maybe even having a conversation with him — it was almost too much to handle. But for now, all he could do was hope that Logan’s connection with Marco would come through.

A few days later, Oscar's phone buzzed with a message from Logan.

"Marco’s picking us up at 8. Be ready."

Oscar barely slept that night. His mind kept replaying the scenarios — meeting Pedro, what he’d say, what he’d wear. When his alarm finally went off, he was already wide awake, pacing again, but this time in his own apartment. He double-checked his outfit at least three times before heading downstairs to wait for Logan and Marco.

Right on time, Marco pulled up in front of the building, the rumble of the engine making Oscar’s heart jump. Logan was sitting in the passenger seat, his window down and a grin plastered on his face.

“C’mon, mate, let’s go!” Logan shouted, motioning for Oscar to hop in the back.

Oscar slid into the backseat, immediately hit with a mix of nerves and excitement. Marco glanced at him in the rearview mirror with an easy smile. "Ready for your big day, Oscar?"

Logan chuckled before Oscar could respond. "Oh, he’s been ready for days now. Can’t stop thinking about his beloved Acosta."

Marco raised an eyebrow and laughed, the sound light and teasing. "So that’s why you were so eager for me to bring you to the race." He glanced over at Logan. "You didn't tell me your friend had a thing for Pedro."

Oscar felt his cheeks flush instantly. "I- it's not like that," he stammered, trying to sound cool, but failing miserably. "I just, y'know... respect his racing skills."

Logan snorted, twisting in his seat to look back at Oscar with a wide grin. "Mate, you were literally begging me the other day. 'Please, Logan, you have to introduce me to Pedro!'" He teased, reaching over and shaking Marco's arm as he mocked the Aussie.

Marco chuckled again, shaking his head as they started down the road toward the track. "You’ve got good taste, I’ll give you that. Pedro’s a great rider. But I hope you’re ready for all the chaos that comes with the paddock. It's not just racing; it’s a circus. Especially with him. "

Oscar let out a nervous laugh, trying to play it off, but inside, his stomach was in knots. "Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine. Just... don’t, you know, mention anything about the crush thing to Pedro."

"Oh, don’t worry," Logan said, his tone dripping with mischief. "We won’t say a word." He paused for dramatic effect. "Not unless it comes up."

"Logan!" Oscar groaned, burying his face in his hands. "You promised!"

Marco laughed again, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Don't worry, Oscar. Pedro's a good guy. Besides, he'll probably be too focused on the race to notice anything."

"Yeah, focused on winning, not on some random fanboy," Logan added, earning a glare from Oscar.

"I’m not a fanboy," Oscar muttered, slumping back into his seat. "I just... appreciate talent."

"Sure, mate, sure," Logan said with a wink. "But hey, if Pedro does notice you, you better be ready. MotoGP riders are a different breed." He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows as Oscar's face scrunched up.

Marco nodded in agreement, his voice soft but teasing. "And if he doesn't notice, you’ll have to try harder. Maybe bring a sign next time? 'Pedro, marry me!' or something like that?"

Oscar groaned again, his face now a deep shade of red as both Logan and Marco burst into laughter.

As they neared the track, Marco shot Oscar another playful glance in the mirror. "Don’t worry, we’ll take it easy on you — at least until you meet Pedro. Then all bets are off."

When they pulled into the paddock area, Oscar felt his heart rate pick up again. The sight of the gleaming trucks, bikes, and riders milling around was almost surreal. It was a dream come true, but also terrifying now that he was so close to meeting Pedro Acosta.

Marco parked the car and turned around to face Oscar, who was still gripping the seatbelt tightly. "Alright, we're here. Just breathe," he said, his tone now a bit more reassuring, though the teasing glint in his eyes hadn't fully faded.

Logan hopped out of the car with his usual easygoing demeanor, but as Oscar stepped out, he felt the weight of his nerves pressing down on him again. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but his stomach still felt like it was doing backflips.

Logan tossed an arm around Oscar’s shoulders, grinning like a kid in a candy store. "You alright, mate? You're looking a bit pale."

Oscar swatted his hand away, trying to act casual. "I'm fine. Just... excited, I guess."

Marco joined them, adjusting his jacket before nodding toward the pit lane. "Alright, let's go find the others. I’m sure Pedro’s around somewhere."

At the mention of Pedro, Oscar’s heart gave another lurch, but he forced himself to keep it together. He couldn’t make a fool of himself in front of Logan and Marco — or worse, Pedro. As they walked through the paddock, Oscar’s eyes darted around, taking in the sights. Mechanics were bustling around, riders were in various stages of preparation, and journalists hovered nearby, trying to catch interviews.

Marco waved at a few familiar faces as they passed, and soon enough, they spotted Pedro’s bike being prepped by his team. Oscar’s heart stopped when he saw Pedro standing nearby, deep in conversation with one of his mechanics.

Logan elbowed Oscar gently, smirking. "There he is, mate. Your knight in shining leather."

Oscar swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. "Yeah, I see him," he muttered, trying to sound calm, but the anxiety was creeping back in full force.

Marco leaned in closer and whispered, "Now’s your chance. You want an introduction, or are you going to stare at him from a distance all day?"

Oscar hesitated, feeling like his feet were glued to the ground. "I— I don’t know," he stammered. "Maybe I should wait until after the race? I don’t want to distract him."

Logan shook his head with a laugh. "You’re hopeless, Oscar. Pedro’s a pro. He won’t even bat an eye."

Before Oscar could respond, Pedro turned around, noticing Marco, Logan, and Oscar standing nearby. A bright smile spread across Pedro's face as he walked over to greet them, his relaxed confidence making Oscar’s nerves spike even higher.

"Hey, Marco!" Pedro called out, clapping Marco on the back before turning to Logan. "Logan, good to see you."

Then, his eyes landed on Oscar, and for a split second, Oscar forgot how to breathe. Pedro extended his hand toward him, smiling warmly. "And you must be Oscar, right? Marco’s mentioned you before."

Oscar blinked, his brain short-circuiting as he took Pedro’s hand, trying not to let his palms sweat too much. "Uh, yeah, that’s me," he said, forcing a smile and hoping his voice didn’t crack.

Pedro chuckled lightly, his grip firm but friendly. "Nice to meet you, man. Hope you’re enjoying the paddock."

Oscar nodded dumbly, still trying to process the fact that Pedro Acosta knew his name. "Yeah, it’s... amazing. Really cool."

Logan, clearly enjoying the whole situation, smirked and leaned in toward Pedro. "Oscar’s been dying to meet you, mate. He’s a big fan."

Pedro shot Oscar a playful glance, his smile widening. "Is that so? Well, I’m glad I could make your day."

Oscar felt his face burning with embarrassment, but Pedro’s friendly demeanor was starting to ease his nerves — just a little. "Yeah, I’ve followed your career for a while," Oscar admitted, managing to find his voice. "You’re, uh, incredible on the track."

"Thanks, man," Pedro said, sounding genuinely appreciative. "I’ve still got a lot to learn, but I’m doing my best out there."

Logan, ever the instigator, couldn’t resist one last jab. "Careful, Pedro. Oscar might ask for a selfie and then frame it on his wall."

Oscar groaned, glaring at Logan. "I hate you," he muttered under his breath.

Pedro laughed, clearly amused by their banter. "Hey, no worries. I’d be honored to be on someone’s wall," he said, winking at Oscar.

Oscar’s heart nearly exploded at the gesture, but before he could respond, the sound of engines revving nearby reminded them all that there was a race to prepare for. Marco clapped Pedro on the shoulder. "We should let you get back to it. Good luck out there."

"Thanks, Marco," Pedro said, giving a quick nod to all of them. "I’ll catch you guys after the race. Enjoy the show."

As Pedro walked away, Oscar let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding, his body finally relaxing. Logan and Marco both turned to him with matching smirks.

"See?" Logan said, clapping him on the back. "That wasn’t so bad, was it?"

Oscar shook his head, a dazed smile on his face. "No," he admitted softly, "not bad at all."

As Pedro disappeared into the crowd, the hum of the paddock returning to its usual buzz, Oscar felt like he was floating. The nerves had faded into a dizzy sort of euphoria. He’d just met Pedro Acosta. He shook his hand. And Pedro knew his name.

Logan leaned against a nearby barrier, still grinning like the Cheshire Cat. "You look like you just met the Queen or something, mate."

Oscar rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. "Shut up, Logan. I’m allowed to be excited."

The race was a blur of excitement and tension, and by the time it was over, Pedro had finished third — an impressive podium finish considering the tough competition. The crowd erupted in cheers, and Oscar felt a sense of pride wash over him, even though he barely knew the guy.

As they started making their way back down to the paddock area, Oscar’s phone buzzed with a text, an Instagram notification. He glanced at the screen and felt his heart skip a beat.

"Hey, if you guys are still around, come by the garage. Would love to chat."

Oscar stared at the message for a moment, disbelief written all over his face. "Logan…"

Logan peered over at Oscar’s phone, his eyebrows shooting up. "No way. Pedro just texted you?"

Marco smirked. "Looks like you made quite the impression, Oscar."

Oscar couldn’t even process what was happening. He barely remembered how to breathe. "He wants us to come by his garage…"

Logan clapped him on the back. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s go see your new best mate."

With Logan and Marco in tow, Oscar made his way from the VR46 garage to the KTM one. The excitement in the air felt even more electric now. When they reached Pedro’s garage, the young rider was waiting, still in his racing suit, talking to a few team members. His face lit up when he saw them approaching.

"Hey!" Pedro greeted them warmly, stepping away from his team. "Glad you guys could make it. What’d you think of the race?"

Oscar, still starstruck, fumbled for words. "You were… incredible," he managed, trying not to sound too overwhelmed. "Third place is amazing."

Pedro smiled, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Thanks, man. It was a tough one, but am happy with the podium."

Logan, ever the smooth talker, chimed in. "Oscar here couldn’t stop watching you. You’ve got yourself a loyal fan."

Pedro laughed, glancing at Oscar with a wide grin. "Well, I appreciate that. Always good to know someone’s got my back."

Oscar felt his face heat up again, but he managed a sheepish smile. "You’ve got a lot of fans, not just me."

Pedro shrugged, still looking at Oscar with an amused glint in his eye. "Maybe, but not all of them get a personal invite to the garage."

Oscar blinked, stunned for a moment. Was Pedro flirting with him? He couldn’t be sure, but the way Pedro was looking at him felt… different. Before he could spiral too much into that thought, Pedro nodded toward the bikes.

"Want to take a closer look?" he asked, his tone casual but kind.

Oscar’s eyes widened. "Seriously?"

"Yeah, come on," Pedro said, waving him over.

Oscar followed Pedro toward the bikes, feeling like he was in some kind of dream. Meanwhile, Logan and Marco exchanged knowing glances behind him, smirking as they watched their friend live out his wildest fantasy.

Oscar's excitement was palpable as he approached the bikes. Pedro's demeanor helped calm his racing heart, but he couldn't shake the feeling that this moment was something special, even if he was acting like a highschool girl.

Pedro stopped in front of one of the bikes and gestured for Oscar to come closer. "Alright, let's get you on it," Pedro said, his voice gentle but firm. "I'll help you mount it."

Oscar nodded hesitantly, he'd watched Pedro ride hundreds of times but he'd never thought of even sitting on a bike himself. Pedro placed a steadying hand on the bike and carefully guided Oscar into position. With a practiced touch, he helped Oscar swing one leg over the bike, ensuring he was seated comfortably.

"How's that?" Pedro asked, his proximity making Oscar's pulse quicken.

"Good," Oscar managed, his voice barely above a whisper. He adjusted his position, trying to get a feel for the bike beneath him.

Pedro’s hands lingered on Oscar’s waist for a moment longer than necessary before he pulled away. "You look like a natural. You look good sitting on my colours."

Oscar nodded, his face flushed with both excitement and a touch of embarrassment. "Thanks, Pedro."

Pedro gave him a reassuring smile. "Anytime. And hey, if you ever want to learn more, you know where to find me."

Logan and Marco watched the scene unfold, their smirks widening. It was clear to them that Pedro's attention to Oscar went beyond mere courtesy, and the way Oscar was responding made it obvious that the connection was mutual.

[artfulanimal]

if you dont know how much i loathe anything related to sexual harassment/rape jokes/rapists with a passiom them you dont know me.

okay, yes, any person with sense hates those things. but it is COMPLEX. as a person who was a subject of s/@ (i…guess…?) and pedophilia it. wow im so good at articulating my points!!!! i loathe it fervently is what im trying to say. and i didnt wind up as well as i thought

lets start with that aside from just being plain WRONG if you have common sense, engaging in sexual acts as a minor could be very detrimental and psychologically damaging for children. they dont have the same emotional or physical maturity to fully comprehend the consequences of their actions, or worse, their abusers. this can greatly harm them physically and mentally. thats why its important to protect and advocate for the well-being of children and prevent them from being exploited or abused.

children shouldnt have to worry about being exposed to sexual acts. they should be able to have a safe childhood in a supportive and secure environment so that they can grow into healthy, well-adjusted adults.

why would you even want to violate children anyway? you know they probably have to raise their hand to use the bathroom, right?? YOU DO KNOW THAT THEY PROBABLY CANT DO MULTIPLICATION, RIGHT????

oh also again feel free to tag accordingly with stuff like cw sa and long post and stuff

~☁️

I understand it dude. I hate them a whole fuck ton too and I wish they would all just incinerate on the spot or at least be tortured for all eternity.

Honestly, it fucking sucks that people like that are allowed to just fucking roam because what they did scared the shit out of their victim into silence. It sucks that people have that thought. It's disgusting that because of that action, people like me and you who have gone through it (even if it wasn't "so bad") get fucked over in the end because they wanted their COCKS (or tits. Women can be rapists.) warmed. It sucks that now I search for yet fear touch.

God, if I could get my hands on the bitches that destroyed my fucking innocence, I'd be painting the walls with their stupid fucking face. I fucking hate them. I fucking HATE THEM.

I just wish that people could actually talk about what happened safely without the fear of their assailant coming after them or having to deal with the reputation change. I wish kids didn't have to grow up so fast because of them. I really wished the world wasn't like this, but fuck. It's what we get.

[magicalqueennightmare]

Sins & Amends Chapter 44

Billy Russo x Female Reader (60 part story)

This follows pre- the punisher into the storyline of daredevil, punisher season 1 and beyond

This is NOT Canon Billy. This is decent human being Billy left with bad options over worse decisions

This was also posted to A03 under: WaywardGaPeach. That account and this one is the only place you'll see me post this. If you see it on any other platform/account know it's not me.

Chapter Summary/ Warnings: A new life comes into your crazy little family

You decided to take a couple days off after finding out and just told Chief Michelson you were sick. In truth you just needed time to adjust.

After Frank's harsh initial reaction he'd switched into more of a protector/ planner mode. You didn't even know the sex of the baby yet and the man was making lists for what furniture you'd need and telling you it was about time you got a car.

You sat next to Karen, both of you wearing a smile as the two of you watched Frank and Curtis measure out your spare bedroom to decide where a crib could go. 

"Frank! I mean I'm pretty sure it's got somewhere to sleep for a while" Karen teased running a hand over your stomach. He raised an eyebrow at her "Very funny. I'm not saying we need to buy it now but Y/N you remember how insane it was bringing Lisa how from the hospital" 

You nodded and felt a flicker of hope at the simple fact that he was actually talking about one of the kids unprompted. "I remember Frank but Karen does have a point. We'll get everything ready in time hell I still have people that don't know"

He glanced up from his fourth cup of coffee and grinned "If you mean David and Sarah, I already called them" "Frank!" Karen scolded but you couldn't find it in yourself to be mad. Frank was smiling, that's what was important. 

"Oh shit!" You said suddenly and everyone turned to look at you. "I gotta tell Alice!" 

"Are you still going to be working on the rig?" Frank asked as you stood to hunt your cellphone. You shrugged "Protocol says I have a choice to either go on dispatch duty till the baby's born or stay on rig. Guess it all depends what the obgyn says after my first appointment"

You hit Alice's number and walked into your kitchen, trying to block out the conversation in your living room but catching enough to know Frank and Curtis was planning to meet with Matt and Dinah to officially accept the offer she'd laid out.

The phone rang twice before Alice answered "About time! Chief called to say Jessie will be partnered with me tor the next couple days, meanwhile I'm freaking out thinking something is wrong with you" you chuckled nervously "Well um the doctor did find something out"

"What?" She nearly screamed and you could hear Kenzie in the background so you said "Put me on speaker so I can tell you both" "Ok" you heard her click it over so you took a breath then said "Turns out I'm pregnant"

"Oh my god!" Was all Kenzie said. Alice on the other hand cracked up laughing "Well it'll be a good looking kid. Helluva attitude but good looking" "Geez thanks Alice" you replied but was relieved that now everyone close to you knew. Her voice got serious then she said "We're here for you no matter what"

Chief let you stay on rig until you were a week shy of the halfway point. He then informed you Alice would keep Jessie as a temp partner until you could come back and that you'd be working dispatch.

Frank took the deal from Homeland, Curtis and David took the job offer so that meant Frank was officially back from the dead. He said it was because he wanted to make sure he could be there for Karen, you and the baby no matter what.

The most comical thing that you found about being pregnant was the stares you'd get from the bodega owner when you'd come waddling in behind none other than the punisher in the middle of the night because a craving hit so Frank had come over to take you to the store. You'd teased more than once "I think I'm hurting your reputation Frank" he'd shrugged and patted your stomach "That's my niece or nephew so it's worth it"

The day you went for the gender reveal ultrasound Karen went with you. You laid back on the bed and reached for her hand. She squeezed yours gently as the tech started moving the wand around "Well mama, we got fingers, toes and oh look at that" you and Karen glanced at the screen so she circled one area "You got a little girl on the way"

Karen practically squealed "Frank was hoping it was a girl too" she admitted after a moment. You simply laughed and shook your head.

A few weeks later Karen, Sarah,and Leo took you out for the day while Frank, Curtis , David and Zach went about turning your spare bedroom into a nursery "one that can move up with her in size" Frank had added at your look.

You counted yourself as unbelievably lucky. Yeah Billy wasn't able to be with you and would probably never even meet his daughter but you and her both had an entire village behind you. Your daughter's family consisted from vigilantes to reporters to ex NSA analyst and damn near everything in between.

The closer you got to your due date the less amount of time you got to spend alone. Someone was always with you. You couldn't blame them even Frank backed down when Karen gave marching orders.

You had gotten Alice and Kenzie to come over to help you frame photos for the family wall you'd added to the baby's room. "This is a good photo of you and Maria" Alice smiled looking at the photo. Maria was practically hanging off your neck and was mid laugh. It was one of the times Frank and Billy had come back unexpectedly early and she had been deliriously happy that Frank wouldn't miss Christmas that year.

"Yeah it is. God I miss her" you answered with a small smile then reached for another stack of pictures "I want to make sure the baby has everyone I consider her family represented. That's why I asked for a shot of you two. Me and Alice have been partners for so many years. Seems only fair" 

It took the three of you a couple hours to frame all the photos you wanted up and to arrange them around the room so they didn't look too cluttered. 

You stepped back to look at the finished product and smiled. You, Billy, Frank, Karen, Curtis and Maria and the kids were represented the most then there was some of the Liebermans, Matt and Foggy then Alice and Kenzie. "I can say one thing. This kid has one hell of a family waiting to meet her" Alice teased throwing an arm over your shoulders.

A knock from the door drew all of your attention so you checked the time "That would be Frank and Karen" Kenzie glanced at your belly for permission so when you nodded she laid on hand on it then leaned down to talk to the baby "Bye little bit. Maybe your mommy will pick a name before you're born so you won't just be listed as babygirl Y/L/N-Russo"

"It's just gonna be babygirl Russo. I have a lot more issues with my last name than his" you admitted so she shrugged then changed it to "Well then little bit hopefully mommy picks a name so you're not just babygirl Russo"

You swatted playfully at her "Alice get your wife"  Alice kissed your cheek then grabbed Kenzie's hand "C'mon baby. We don't provoke the pregnant lady" 

The day you hit thirty nine weeks you had decided to go to the bulletin to have lunch with Karen. You were walking up the steps and heard Ellison "Need a hand?" You looked up to see he was offering his arm so you gladly took it. "Thank you!" He nodded and walked with you inside.

You hadn't even made it to Karen's office when a pain hit severe enough to double you up. "Y/N?" When you didn't reply he looked at the nearest person "GET PAGE NOW!" 

Karen came running around the corner about the time another pain hit you and you felt liquid run down your leg. You looked down to see you were now standing in a puddle of water "Oh fuck Karen this is it" you managed to get out but she was already pulling a chair under you and calling an ambulance with Ellison's phone while she called Frank with hers.

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

Alice and Jessie happened to be on the ambulance that responded. She sat in the back monitoring your contractions on the way "See? Little bit wanted auntie Alice even if I was at work!" She teased making a pained laugh escape you "She could've asked to call you!"

By the time you got to the hospital the waiting room looked like a frickin circus. Matt, Foggy and Marci were there fresh from court from the looks of it. Frank and Curtis were there with Dinah and Sam in tow who had apparently drove them. Curtis was on the phone with David trying to convince him he didn't have to come yet.

When they spotted you and Karen all eyes turned towards you as your obgyn Dr Lynnette Erickson came out the double doors and took in just how many were there with you. "Miss Y/L/N only two can accompany you into delivery" you grabbed Karen's hand then glanced at Frank "What you say Frankie?" He nodded and quickly got to the other side of the bed as they pushed you away.

Dinah and Sam were telling Curtis  they'd call to check in and Alice hollered she'd come after shift.  That was the last you heard out the waiting room.

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

Frank stepped into the hall while Karen helped you change into a gown then he came back in and stood at the head of the bed watching the doctor and nurses mill around with his patent Punisher glare in full swing. "Easy Frank. They're here to help me" you reminded him with a pained smile and he nodded "Yeah they better"

An hour later Frank was sitting in the bed behind you supporting your body against his own while Karen helped you through the breathing. "One more push and she'll be out mama" Dr Erickson said and Frank leaned up to whisper in your ear "Come on sweetheart. You got this. You're more badass than any marine I've ever met. One more push. You can do it"

Frank helped you sit up further and Karen moved down to help hold your legs as you gave one final hard push and was rewarded with a shrill cry filling the room. After a moment one of the nurses handed you a tiny pink bundle. "Congratulations. What's her name?" 

You glanced between Karen and Frank who were standing at your side in awe of their niece "I was thinking Addison Elizabeth Russo" Frank's eyes teared up a bit when he heard the middle name but he nodded "Maria would've loved that" the nurse smiled and said "I'll write it in her chart. Do you want me to tell everyone waiting?" 

Frank shook his head "Give us three a few minutes then I'll go collect the nutjobs one at a time" the nurse laughed and said "Well congrats. I can tell already Addison is a very loved little girl" "That she is" Karen agreed with tears in her eyes.

Addison or Adi as you planned to call her was beautiful. She had your nose but Billy's dark eyes and mouth. God she was going to look just like him. You'd never felt more whole than staring at her.

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

Once you were moved into a regular room Frank headed out to deliver news and to bring a couple people back at a time to meet the newest member of your little family.

"I wish Billy could've been here" you confessed and Karen kissed your forehead "I know you do. I promise you won't be alone in any of this" you smiled at her as Adi cooed slightly in your arms.

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

Despite the fact that you were exhausted and wanted to sleep it was a comical experience seeing everyone meet her.

Curtis was a pro at holding babies. She curled right up to him and nearly fell asleep "She knows who's gonna be her favorite uncle" he'd teased with a wink towards you when Frank shot him a look. 

Foggy was nervous and let Karen direct him how to hold her but looked so cute smiling down at her. You realized Matt was standing back so you said "Get up in here Matt. Come meet her" he sat on the edge of the bed so you laid her in his arms. He gently ran his fingertip across her face "She's beautiful Y/N"

The Liebermans were a family unit and it showed. Sarah held Adi while David, Leo and Zach met her. "She's so little!" Leo whispered and you grinned "By the time she's up a size you'll be needing a baby sitting job right Leo?"

Alice and Kenzie barely made it under the wire before visiting hours ended. Alice just sat there smiling at her "You did amazing Y/N! She is gorgeous!" 

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

Once everyone else had left you thought you'd be alone overnight but Frank pulled out the cot in the corner of the room. "What are you doing?" You asked and he glanced over his shoulder at Karen and smirked  "I'm staying kid. You were there for Maria when she had newborns. I'm gonna be here for you. Me and Karen already set up a schedule so you always have help. Sarah has offered to watch her when you go back to work and for any overnight shifts we bought a portable crib for our place"

You felt yourself tearing up again and didn't know if it was hormones or what. "Thank you both" he shrugged "We stick together sweetheart. Kind of what we do"

You took a deep breath then said "That does lead into my next question" they exchanged a look then Karen said "What is it?" You looked at Adi sleeping peacefully then at Frank then at Karen. "Will you two be her godparents?" 

"Really?" Karen asked with a broad smile. When you nodded she pulled you into a hug then Frank hugged you both "This a yes?" You asked after a moment and Frank groaned "Christ, yes Y/N we'd love to be her godparents"

@intothesoul

@weallhaveadestiny

[asparklethatisblue]

“You were right, actually,” he said, as Crawley cracked open her eye and raised a questioning eyebrow. 

“About what?”

“About teaching someone something entirely new and life changing,” Aziraphale quipped.

He grinned as Crawley groaned and smacked his chest, grumbling about insufferable angels. 

“You think too highly of yourself,” Crawley muttered, but her lips were quirking in a smile. 

At that moment footsteps sounded from outside the chamber, and before either angel or demon could do something several humans entered. One of them was carrying a lantern, which illuminated the room just enough to provide a perfect view of the rumpled clothes, the very obvious signs of rigorous sexual activity, and a newcomer to town wrapped around their most holy woman inside a sacred temple. It really couldn’t look any worse than that.

“Uh oh-” Aziraphale let out, trying to come up with an explanation as he saw the scandalized faces in front of them.

Then Crawley snapped her fingers and they were outside, high on a mountain cliff overlooking the early sunrise painting the temple below golden. 

Their clothes were scattered about them as well, so Aziraphale grabbed his robes and hastily pulled them against his chest. Crawley seemed to have no issue with modesty. She stretched languidly and yawned, before finger combing her hair into a presentable state with another miracle. Only then did she start dressing herself, not even bothering to clean up. 

“That was a rather rude awakening,” Aziraphale said, feeling like his mind was free from a lustful intoxicated daze for the first time in daze. “Those poor humans will think rather badly of me, I’m afraid.”

“At least half of them had fantasies about their dear holy Pythia,” Crawley responded, finally dressed and grinning down at Aziraphale, who couldn’t bring himself to put on his own clothes. For that he’d very briefly would have to expose himself again, and by the light of day he worried about this now. 

“I’ve made it so that they caught us but saw us escape through a side door before anyone could catch us. That’ll do it.”

“Well, I’m sorry I’ve ruined your reputation with them now,” Aziraphale said, feeling genuinely remorseful. “You must have enjoyed being at the temple if you stayed for so long.”

“Ah, that’s alright,” Crawley shrugged. “Was about time I set out wandering again. Besides, I can’t very well be a Pythia anymore.”

“Whyever not?” Aziraphale asked, blinking up at his demon. She’d cut a rather striking figure after all. 

Crawley’s grin grew sharp, her cheeks’ flush belying her attempts at bravado. 

“Because only virgins can speak prophecies at the oracle.”

With that Crawley winked and turned around with a wave. 

“See you around, angel.”

Aziraphale watched her disappear into the trees, his entire face flaming hot. He waited until the demon was truly gone to put on his clothes, and threw one last look at the temple below. 

That was an experience. And the first prophecy he’d ever heard, even spoken in jest, had turned out to be true. Perhaps prophecies were something to look into, after all. Might very well to lead more pleasant encounters with a certain demon if he was lucky.

lmao that. I barely remember the inspiration but to tell the truth? I was playing a shit ton of Assassin’s Creed Odyssey and I really loved the visuals of Delphi, the idea of oracles and all that, the view from the mountain down onto the temple… say what you will about AC, but they know how to make scenery look nice. The prompt was Prophecy if I remember right, so of course my mind sprang to the oracles of Antiquity. I liked the idea of Crowley pretending to be a holy woman serving a false god (in the eyes of Heaven and Hell) and spreading mischief via prophecies. So many myths involve misinterpreted prophecies as the source of so much evil after all. So here we had her predict that Aziraphale would teach someone something new and life changing. What that is is up to you 😌

(also Aziraphale first encounters the idea of prophecy here, and thinks its quite fun, hence his later collection)

[goldeneyedgirl]

Alright! That's the first time I send an ask message to someone I don't know and probably the last one (because, honestly, is kinda scary) but listen, baby, you had NOT the right to make me addicted to a fic where the mass-murderer-nightmare-of-the-south Major Jasper Whitlock is a whole ass baby daddy!!!! Seriously, I'd never imagine I'd read something like that and LOVE IT??? I mean, I could picture Alice being a mom in some aus, since her character seems to be very attached to the idea of having a family, but Jasper???? The one who killed a thousand of vampires and non-vampires with no mercy???? I have only one thing to say: I need more.

There is no way you're as scared of me as I am of you. I think we should just agree to be scared together. 

Anon, THANK YOU for your message. All my messages mean so much to me, and to know that I've written something that you didn't expect to love? Ugh, made my day. My week. 

The thing about babyverse is that I smashed out like 8k words of it during a Bad Time; I was having some kind of mental breakdown and writing the OG version was my way of mainlining a carton of ice cream and a bucket of fries to cope with my woes. I actually fucking hate baby fics because Jasper and Alice are not parents. Every single baby-related fic that I read on FF.Net pissed me off. But my brain ran away with me and then I decided to riff on the concept and we ended up with five or six variations on a theme, one of which you guys *love*.

I think the thing that is important to remember about Jasper is that he is an ice-cold killer, one of the most dangerous vampires on the continent with a strong reputation even though he walked away over *eighty* years ago. 

In Hybrid-verse, this means there are people in the known that lie away at night wondering exactly what happened to Maria's Major because his reappearance would be catastrophic. None of his past changes because he has a son and a partner; it arguably makes it worse. He still suffers from depression, he still has guilt and shame, and now he's somehow ended up with a mostly-human son to raise.

And the fact that he wasn't close to his father, and has vague memories of Civil Era parenthood has him crazy unprepared for being a dad (he is totally stunned the first time Alice just casually breastfeeds Ollie in front of him one night; she teases him mercilessly that they can have sex and have a kid, but breastfeeding shocks him.) 

As for Alice, she's just always an agent of chaos. I have a very, very hard time imagining her as a mother - baby-verse and the AH tattoo fic are the only two I ever bothered attempting that (and tattoo-verse is kind of a riff on a lot of the AH fics written in '05, so it doesn't really count.) Alice is always going to be authentically herself, and being a mother doesn't change her. Ollie is just the best-dressed kid in the room. 

So have a little snippet of the OG, Official (if there ever is such a thing) Babyverse

“Oh my god, Jasper.”

I gaped at him as Ollie babbled at me, his chubby hands patting at my cheeks. 

It had been two months since the Cullens had arrived back in Forks, since Jasper had come home to me - and to Ollie. It had gone by faster than I thought possible, honestly. 

Edward and Bella had decided to get married in the last weeks of August - the plan was the wedding, a quick honeymoon somewhere in South America (a surprise for Bella, apparently), and home just in time to start freshman year at Dartmouth. Well, ‘home’ would be the house that Esme had picked out in New Hampshire. I didn’t know if they were even planning to come back to Forks after the wedding. 

It felt like a strange and rushed choice after being apart for a year, but I had congratulated them and was pitching in with the wedding planning. They were happy about it, and that was the most important thing. 

My own college plans were a lot more diaphanous than Bella and Edward’s, and I was mostly content just to work out my new normal with my son and my quasi-boyfriend. The summer wasn’t over yet, and I knew I’d have to have a few hard conversations before it was over - mostly that if the Cullens wanted to go to New Hampshire and play college students, I would be staying here in Forks with my family - Simon had suggested taking a bunch of community college credits online to stretch my college fund a little further and to keep me close to home for a while. 

Adjusting Ollie on my hip, I gave Jasper a Look, as he tried not to meet my gaze. Since we’ve gotten home, he’d been… well, amazing. No one had ever taken co-parenting as seriously as Jasper was, and I had never seen as many parenting books as Jasper had somehow collected that first week. The Cullen house suddenly boasted an unnecessary amount of baby paraphernalia (right down to the framed photographs that Esme had asked Dad and I for - I had been mildly horrified to see my first photo with Ollie framed on the upstairs console table; my sweaty, disorientated, and white as a ghost face with Ollie on my chest immortalised next to Rose and Emmett in a Venetian gondola had really done a number on my self esteem.)

But Jasper had give me an insane amount of things since he’d gotten home. First it had been a new baby swing when mine ended up dying spectacularly. Then - when Esme found out that Ollie was an unenthusiastic sleeper at the best of times - there had been an insanely expensive cot that was meant to encourage him to sleep. Then there were books and toys - most of them under the guise of bonding with him. And then a second set of everything at the Cullens because Jasper didn’t want me lugging so many things with me every time we came over. 

(Rosalie had - with all the subtly of an infomercial - asked me if I preferred bracelets or rings, and I had had to squash the idea of any kind of jewellery as a gift. Both of the Cullen women had grown up in an age where the birth of a healthy son and heir would have come with a sparkly piece of jewellery and I thought that was so gross. Jasper had listened to me rant for nearly fifteen minutes, bewildered, after Rosalie and Esme had been insisting he had to gift me some kind of diamond for Ollie - preferably in blue - for weeks. Cynthia had thought I was insane to refuse. The first and only gem I would accept from Jasper would be an engagement ring - when we were ready.) 

And now, there was the latest - and most expensive - of his gifts. 

“You bought me a car?” I said dumbly.

The blue SUV parked out the front looked perfectly normal; shiny and new but not out of place. It was no Mercedes Guardian or Aston Martin or whatever BMW Rose was driving. And I kind of liked that - no one would give it a second look in Forks. 

The thing was, a car had been a much contested item in my family - the ancient little car Cynthia and I had been sharing had finally crapped out beyond repair and we had ended up pooling our savings to save for a new one. We were about three thousand dollars off something decent - Dad and Simon were vetoing anything that they didn’t deem safe enough. Simon and Dad were generous enough to occasionally loan me one of their cars, and Jasper had been more than willing to chauffeur me around. 

Until now. 

“I know you and Cynthia were saving for one,” Jasper began, reaching out to tuck one of Ollie’s curls out of his eyes. I was putting off getting his hair cut because his messy hair was too cute to lose. “But I was thinking…”

“Jas.”

“Cynthia has so many co-curriculars, and spends so much time on the Res that it felt like you’d be spending a lot of time in the car - or not getting to use it as much.”

I was still giving him a Look as Ollie had moved on to grasping at my necklace, fascinated. 

“…I wanted to make sure you were safe,” Jasper said finally. “Rose helped me pick it out - and the carseat. Both have the best safety ratings on the market.”

Walking closer, I could see the carseat already fitted in the backseat. It was, frankly, perfect. I was concerned about the qualifier ‘on the market’ - I wouldn’t put it past Jasper to try and get some kind of unreleased bomb-resistant baby carseat. 

“The car or the carseat?” I asked, looking back at him - he was finally looking a little bit guilty. 

“What?”

“Which is the safest you could find - the car or the carseat?”

“Both.” Jasper looked at me and offered out the keys. Ollie reached out for them with a squeal of delight. “Let me do this for my family, Alice. I want to make sure you have what you need.”

It was hard to argue with him when he called us his family. It always made me melt a little, that he thought of us that way. I had had to squash more than one of his old-fashioned ideas of babies and parenting over the last two months, but his staunch determination to take care of us always made me give in. 

The car was staying. I didn’t have it in me to argue when he was looking at me with that oddly hopeful gaze. And he wasn’t wrong - I did need a car, I wanted it to be a good and safe one, and it wasn’t like he’d gone out and gotten me something ultra expensive… 

“HE BOUGHT YOU A CAR?”

The front door banged, Cynthia bolted onto the street, her eyes huge and her hands on her hips.

“All your brothers are married, right Jasper?” She asked before darting over to the car to inspect it. 

“Nearly.” Jasper was trying very hard not to laugh; he really did get a kick out of Cynthia’s Teenage Drama Queen brand of dramatics. 

“I am doomed to forever have to work for my money,” Cynthia sighed, pulling back and looking over at us. She’d gotten a job at Forks’ bakery slash ice cream slash coffee shop and had spent the last month acting like she was being forced to work in the mines in the dead of winter. It was eternally entertaining, and she was keeping the house supplied in free pastries, ice cream, and bread. “Give the baby to Jasper, Alice.”

I looked over and Jasper looked so hopeful, his hands already twitching.

“He always just stands there with this half sad-puppy, half-hopeful look that you’ll read his mind,” Cynthia said bossily. “Every single time, you wait for her to offer. Just take him - I do.”

Ollie let out a crow of delight as Jasper took him, babbling happily and waving my new car keys in one hand. Jasper had a look of such tenderness on his face that I felt bad he thought that I had some kind of ownership over the child we shared. That he felt he couldn’t just ask to hold Ollie. 

“Hello Oliver,” he said, holding him so carefully. “Are you being good for your mother?” He got a spit-bubble reply; it had only taken two months for Ollie to recognise that Jasper was one of his people.

“You can ask me for the baby, Jas,” I said softly, leaning against his other side; his arm wrapping around my shoulders automatically. “You can hold your son, you don’t need my permission.”

“I don’t like to upset him; he’s always so happy with you,” Jasper murmured, nodding as Ollie brandished the keys at him importantly.

I rolled my eyes fondly. Ollie was happy when Jasper held him. Our son had taken like a duck to water at the sudden reintroduction of the Cullens to our lives; Esme was good for cuddles, Emmett was the one that would give me a heart attack by tossing him in the air and swooping him around until Ollie was red in the face and laughing, and Rosalie was someone that he was entranced with - something about the way that she was with him made Ollie go all soft and angelic when he was with her. Little ratbag had Auntie Rose wrapped around his little finger - probably why she had helped Jasper with the car. 

Ollie still held a grudge against Carlisle for giving him his shots last month, hiding his face every time he saw him. Edward and Bella were terribly awkward around Ollie, but kind to him. Ollie adored Edward playing the piano, and every time Edward had played for him, he had been transfixed. 

Whilst Jasper might have been one of Ollie’s people, he was only just grasping the concept of ‘Daddy’ and Jasper being one and the same. We would get there eventually. He was only a baby. 

“Thank you for the car,” I said softly. “You didn’t have to, but I love it.”

“You do?” Jasper adjusted his grip on Ollie, before pulling me closer. 

“I do. But you don’t need to buy me or Ollie all these things.”

He really didn’t. About two weeks after he got back, Cynthia had read him the riot act and pointed out that since he didn’t sleep, he could be pulling the nightshift, and maybe slip me the occasional twenty so I could buy diapers. That had resulted in him giving me a credit card, the acquisition of the sleep-training cot, and him literally expecting to sit in the tree outside my bedroom and watch over me and Ollie. He’d been surprised when I’d given him a set of house-keys, and allowed him to bring books and a laptop over so he didn’t have to actually watch us sleep. More than one night, he’d ended up in the living room giving Ollie a bottle and reading him back to sleep. There was nothing cuter than going downstairs in the morning to find Ollie passed out asleep on Jasper’s chest, as Jasper read some heavy book over his head. 

“I want to. I love you both so, so much. This is nothing, Alice. This is just a car,” he said softly. 

“Can you two kiss so we can go inside and I can make Dad and Pa feel bad for me?” Cynthia called and I started laughing, Ollie cooing at us before giggling along with me. 

The rest of the Cullens had given no indication whether or not they would be relocating to New Hampshire any time soon, and I hadn’t asked because it wasn’t a conversation I wished to have: I was staying in Forks with my family and my son for the foreseeable future, and no amount of bribery would make me budge. 

Not that Jasper would even try, I knew that. We had talked in through and he understood that I wanted this time with my father and with Simon and with Cynthia. 

Jasper had been spending every spare moment with us, and desperately compensating for leaving me; I knew that Carlisle and Esme had given my parents half of the cost of my medical care for the pregnancy (which neither of my parents wanted to accept until I pointed out that the financial hit would affect Cynthia’s college options, not to mention finishing the house renovation. It might have been loose change to the Cullens, but that money made a difference to us.) 

[leeragnvindr]

- Oh, come on, — the man grinned and took a glass of water from the kitchen table. He was having a conversation with someone he knew, — I hear you. Listen, I got a case.

- What did your bright head come up with?

- another bright idea. Would you like to be in a porno? I can provide you with a wonderful little girl who can multitask.

- You've been told more than once that you're crazy. I'll say it too, you're crazy, — he exhaled into the phone. The unknown man obviously realized how this could end.

- Is that a bad thing? I'm still bored, — Ran snorted, — or are you suggesting I start killing?

- No way, you'll destroy half of Tokyo for fun. Especially if you get in trouble with the police.

- That's why I won't kill. So you'll do it? I'll pay you, — the man took a sip of the cool water and licked his moist lips.

- Do I have time to think about it?

- No, I need an answer now. Yes or no? — Haitani didn't like waiting.

- No. I don't want to get into that kind of shit. It's not my thing. I'm not a rapist, I'm not a maniac, and I don't want to get intimate with a girl I don't know. So I'd rather decline your offer. I'm sorry, but I'm done talking.

- That's too bad. You would have been perfect for her. Tall, broad-shouldered, athletic, and brunette. But you should still consider my offer.

- Ran, there's no stipulation. I've given my answer, and you can't make me change my mind. But, — he paused and added, — I know someone who might be willing to participate in this endeavor. He, too, is bored, has nothing to do in this world, though he has found his own entertainment.

- Murder, drugs and alcohol? Huh, why am I not surprised you would bring him up.

- because he's the only one who can help you, — the unknown man said with a kind of anger. He doesn't approve of Ran's plans, but at the same time he wants to see what happens. He may have to be picked up from the station or, worse, pulled out of jail.

- Then I'll call him today. Maybe that'll help, unlike you.

- Fuck you, — he snorted, — I don't care. Have a good day, I gotta go. The groceries are here.

- Oh, yes, I can see why you don't want to participate. Afraid of losing your reputation? The restaurant business is so high, I forgot, — the man said with a touch of hypocrisy, listening to the man ready to throw the phone out of his hands.

- No. I'm not afraid of losing my reputation, I'm afraid of getting infected by it. Do you know how many sexually transmitted diseases there are?

- I do, but you use condoms. It's the best form of protection.

- I don't deny it, but I don't want to touch her at all. I'll see you later.

- Well, goodbye, — Ran snorted unhappily and put the phone away, heading for the second floor.

Rolling up his sleeves, the man opened the door to a bright and spacious room. There was a girl sitting on the bed. Nothing out of the ordinary. Shorts, t-shirt, eye mask and socks. She takes care of herself, but there is one rule that says her eyes must be closed.

- Good morning, Sisil. How are you? — came a slightly gruff, male voice. Ran smiled and spoke all the words in English.

- Hello, sir, — the quiet and timid words echoed around the room and the girl instinctively raised her head towards the man, — I'm fine. And how are you? What will you do today?

- what a sweet, young maiden. Each time you talk to me more and more. I'm doing well, and especially since I stopped by to see you.

- that's good, I guess, — the girl added a little nervously, — will there be guests tonight?

- No, no, don't worry, — Haitani stepped closer and lifted her head by her chin and ran his fingers over her lips.

- Okay, master. Then what are we going to do?

- You'll find out, little one.

Third part

[misscrazyfangirl321]

whatever ur alice syfy ship is: star wars au?

(Asks that make me Google "Is time travel a thing in Star Wars"? Apparently the answer is technically yes, but only once. Good enough for me.)

-

“Alice, you know I love you, but this is insane!” 

She pauses, just for a moment, fingers hovering over her worn nerf-leather pouch. “You love me?”

It’s almost comical the way he freezes, eyes widening, the racing of his mind almost visible. “I-of course I do, uh, buddy. Pal. Anyway, that’s not really the-you’re going back in time to kill your great-grandmother, so I’m not sure it’s really the time to talk about-”

“I’m not going to kill her.” She resumes packing, shaking her head. For the moment, at least, she’ll let his little slip go (there may not be any point in saying anything anyway, if this works), though she cannot stop the slightest smile from tugging at her lips. If only his smuggler buddies could see him now; his reputation for being calm, cool, collected, and in control would shatter to a million bits. “I’m going to talk to her. To stop her before the dark side can take over.”

He gulps, glancing around, though it’s only the two of them in the room. Maybe he thinks the Force itself reports back to the Empire; for all she knows, maybe it does. “Right, sure, just going to have a friendly chat with the woman who led the takeover of the entire known universe. I’m sure that couldn’t possibly go wrong.” 

She grimaces. “It couldn’t possibly be worse than this.” There are only three groups left now: the Empire, the enslaved, and the dying. The last of the rebellion was crushed years ago, and with it, the last of the hope. Alice has poured every moment since then into this: desperately trying to finish her parents’ final project, a time machine they could never quite get to function. Now that it is, she knows exactly what to do.

“Um, yes, it could. ‘Course it could.” He looks at her like she’s suddenly announced a distant relation to Jabba. “You could die. Or stop existing.” 

Sweet, sweet man. She shakes her head, dropping the last of her supplies into her pouch with a sigh. Turning to him, she offers a weak smile. “Technically, she and I aren’t even blood relatives. Grandmother adopted my dad. So even if Patricia dies, I should still exist.” 

“Should. See, I really don’t like that should. If she dies, maybe she never raises your grandmother. Maybe your grandmother doesn’t know enough about kids to take in your father. So maybe your father lives across the galaxy, and never meets your mother.” 

“That’s a lot of maybes.” She arches a brow. “When’s the last time you slept?”

“Sometime, probably.” There’s desperation in his eyes now that breaks her heart. “Even if you don’t kill her, even if everything goes to plan, you might still erase yourself. Without Darth DeWitt, your parents might never work together, and-”

Frustration wells up inside of her against her will. She’s dealt with this, she has; she’s faced head-on all the ways this could possibly go wrong, has swallowed down her desperate fears, and now he’s digging them all back up, and she cannot deal with it. “I’m not more important than the whole universe, Hatter!”

“You are to me!” 

The fight seems to drain from both of them at once, exhaustion overtaking them. She sags back onto her bed, sitting upright and watching him. For several long moments the only sounds are their harsh, unsteady breaths. 

“You don’t mean that,” she says finally, quietly.

He matches her tone, though he can’t meet her eyes. “Part of me does. Part of me wants to smuggle you away to some remote colony somewhere too far and too small for the Empire to care. So long as we paid our taxes and kept our heads down, we’d be alright.” 

Oh, it does sound tempting. There are planets like that, she knows; not many, and not overly comfortable, but survivable. And if she changes things… Even if she continues to exist, there won’t be any coming back. Whatever world she makes, it won’t be her world, and if there is a her, she’ll be back in the past. No room for two Alices, right? Literal lifetimes away from all of her friends for the rest of her life… Her heart twists. “And the other part?” The words barely come.

One breath. Two. “The other part of me knows you’d never forgive me, or yourself.” The words hang between them, an undeniable reality. She can’t stand the thought of this, but neither can she run from it. Abruptly, he chuckles. It’s weak, forced, and clearly for her benefit. “Besides, I really hate paying taxes.”

It’s a pitiful excuse for a joke, but she laughs all the same-laughs until she cries, and he crosses the room, gathering her into his arms with a tentativeness that quickly fades, lost in kisses to her hair and softly whispered words.

“Let me come with you,” he pleads, when she’s calm.

She’s shaking her head before she can think. “It’s too dangerous. You could be killed.”

“I live for danger.” He takes a breath. “Besides, I’m not more important than the whole universe.”

You are to me. She wants to say it, but it wouldn’t be true, anymore than it was when he said it. So instead, she brushes her lips against his-softly, just once-and exhales. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to have backup.”

“Never hurts, no,” he agrees too quickly, looking adorably dazed. She releases him, pulling the strap of her pouch over her shoulder, and he hesitates. “Alice?”

“Yeah?”

“You said you didn’t plan to kill her. But if-if this doesn’t work, if you talk to her and she chooses the dark side… What’s the plan then?”

She offers him a grim smile, pocketing her lightsaber. For the woman who would be directly responsible for-literally-billions of deaths? “Off with her head.”

[maudlxne]

It was subtle - hardly there - yet for a moment she could have sworn there was a hint of a smile. Idly wondered if it was her imagination or even her eyes playing tricks on her. Even so, his words earned a soft breath - a hand raising up yet against to stifle a brief bubbled-out laugh that was hardly audible.

❝ I could . . . say the same to you. Humoring a woman who most find too quiet to speak to. ❞

Too soft-spoken. Hard to hear. That damned stutter. All words she had heard before. Few were patient enough to converse with her. She wasn't loud or overly outspoken like the other kunoichi. Even her own friends occasionally had a hard time understanding her or listening to her words. It had been a problem when graduating from the Ninja Academy as well.

Pale eyes turned back to meet that singular onyx one. Having grown considerably from her youth when she could hardly look anyone in the eyes. Yet there was still so much that was the same. Even when he spoke about her hard-earned reputation. Causing her head to tilt ever so slightly to the side in curiosity. Idly wondering what he had heard or assumed her reputation was.

❝ Any reputation. . . that is that easily destroyed is one that is barely built. Besides - only I get to decide who I wish to associate with. Reputation . . . has never stopped me before. I do not wish to live a life bound by other's thoughts any longer. ❞

Perhaps that's where she was strange. Caring about the opinions of others yet struggling so hard to break free of that. She no longer wanted to bend her life around the desires of others. Those keen prying eyes that judge your every movement. It was difficult - a fight she lost most days. Yet she kept getting back up and moving forward. Knowing full well they will judge her no matter the choices or actions she made.

❝ If you are sure . . . b - but if you change your mind it really isn't any trouble. However, I will also respect your decision. It . . . wouldn't really be fair of me to talk about wanting to break free from the expectations of others while not respecting your decision. ❞

The last thing she wanted was to become a hypocrite. To do a one-eighty and become the very thing she despised. Still, she kept her full attention on him. Listening as he spoke while giving small subtle nods to show she was listening.

❝ Yes - you deserved as much . . . ❞

A proper childhood and that reminder he wished for. To be given the chance to just live. When the conversation was turned back toward her she gave a slight pause. Taking a moment to gather her thoughts.

❝ Oh - well . . . it might be a s - silly reason. I want to work in some form of child care. Helping raise them comes rather easy for me. When my younger sister took over the position of heiress - my own training within my clan was given up as I was deemed unfit. I guess - it was around that time I started to realize . . . just how cruel it can be for children. To be determined on a matter of strength and value based solely on ninjutsu. I also began to think about the others from our class . . . I want - if I can encourage even a few children to not feel alone in this world it would be worth it. To be a source of encouragement and strength for them. Because it's something I never really received much of. ❞

She wasn't sure if it was a good enough reason either. However, she was also smart and capable enough. Having done well in almost all subjects besides positivity in school. Her life has been a lonely one. Where she was far too aware of the disappointment that she was to her clan. Yet never voiced because it felt so selfish to hate herself due to her circumstances when others had it worse. That's why if she could help even a single child not cry alone she wanted to take it.

❝ S - sorry I guess I was mildly rambling. ❞

Hinata has proven so far to be a freethinker among a guild of sheep; curious, not withholding the same grudge others often did. Despite that, Sasuke still found himself baffled that Hinata would want as much as to want to know him. Deal with him, tolerate, and grit her teeth through a regular, albeit grueling, conversation was understandable, but did she not feel disgust when near?

Admittedly, it was self-centered to assume that a kind woman would only expect the worse of him. Who was he to rebuke magnanimity after begging for an ounce of it in his lifetime?

" It's funny to come to a man who hardly talks anticipating conversation, " he humors with a very faint, barely perceptible smile ghosting over his lips.

His joy did not stay long, that bothersome reminder of his listlessness returning to haunt him. It didn't evoke the viscerally helpless reaction he had the first many times when he thought too hard on it, but it was a wound that twitched and ached whenever he'd turn the wrong way, for sure.

" You don't have to. I'd hate to tarnish your hard-fought reputation by having you associate with me, " he teases; a bit of self-flagellating humor never hurts anyone. Not him, anyways. " I stay near the postings board and seeing if there's anything worth the cash to come through. Which, is hardly much anymore, given the peaceful times we're in. "

Ironic how all of them spent their lives honing their talents for war and when that was won, they were all sequestered back onto the shelf to collect dust. At least others seemed to have transferrable traits — Sasuke, not so much.

Could follow his father's footsteps and become a police officer, but in too many reasons to list that left a bitter, acrid taste on his tongue.

" I agree. Our childhood was far too short, " his much shorter than others, no thanks to Orochimaru, " sometimes I wish there would have been someone to drill into my skull that I have to live life after Itachi. " The name alone darkens his expression, bittersweet the reminder was, but he keeps the mood light.

" Enough about me- What makes you want to study into education? "

[vquacki]

It's My Fatherly Duties!

It's My Fatherly Duties!

Short DAD Scenarios 

Characters: BONTEN - Rindou Haitani, Ran Haitani, Sanzu Haruchiyo

~ Inui Seishu, Kokonoi Hajime, Izana Kurokawa, 

~ Souya Kawata (Angry), Nahoya Kawata (Smiley)

Warning ⚠︎︎ : Mature content, cussing, MINORS DNI

Note : requested, I added some characters. Hope ya don’t mind! These are pretty short, just little things I put together. Word barf kinda..? Anyways- I hope you enjoy :))

R I N D O U 

His lashes fluttered open when he heard a loud crash coming from the hallway, along with a string of cuss words sounding like his daughter's voice. 

“What the hell was that?” You groaned, not a single word was uttered from your husband when he sprung out of bed, bolting to the bedroom down the corridor.

“Tohru?!” Rindou yelled, flinging open the door. Revealing your teenage daughter fully dressed, half way through her second story window. A facade of pillows under her blanket seeminging meant to be her ‘sleeping body’.

“Oh dad, I-”

“What the hell are you doing” The man was fuming by the ears, pajamas ruffled when he jolted out of his slumber. 

“Is Tohru okay?” You peeked from behind the broad shouldered man. 

“I was just going to get fresh air!” Your daughter lied, making up a somewhat excuse to appease her angered father. 

“Hey Tohru! Hurry up and get down here!” You heard a boy's voice call out, looking over at Rindou’s face to see the man's darkened expression.

“Who the fuck is down there? Is that a boy?!” He growled, stomping his feet over to the glass. Pushing past his daughter to take a look. 

“Oh shit- her dads here. Let’s book it!” The kids whispered, but loud enough for Rindou to make out, hastily running down the dark street. 

“You little shits! Don't you dare come back here!” Rindou growled, slamming the window shut in the process. 

“What! Dad!” Tohru whined, 

“You're so grounded young lady!” Rindou shouted, not caring for the sleeping neighbors beside his shared condo at three in the morning. 

“Rin, she was just having some fun!” You defended, you were also like her when you were her age, trouble makers run in your blood. Actually Rindou couldn't even talk- he was running roppongi at her age.  

“No! She's just too young to be hanging out with boys!” Rindou’s brows joined together as he withered in front of you. 

“But we dated when we were her age-” You deadpanned at him, 

“Grounded! My final answer!” 

R A N  

Ran was coming home from a late night bonten meeting, mouth agape when he saw his daughter’s feet dangling out from her window. 

Fearing the worst he sprinted to the ground below his child, hands outstretched to catch her if she were to misstep. 

“Mitsuri!” His voice boomed,

“Eh? Dad?!” His daughter stuttered, slowly slid out the window, climbing down like she had done this many times prior to this awkward occurrence. 

Toes easily touching the grass with ease, not a scratch upon the females porcelain skin. 

“Ran?” You yawned, cracking the door ajar. It was late, you waking up to your husband's screams outside your house. 

“Mitsuri, what are you doing climbing out your window like a maniac?!” Ran scowled, hands running through his messed up hair. Sweat dripping down his temple from the not so pleasant adrenaline rush. 

“I was just gonna hang out with some friends..” your daughter answered, fingers gripping the edge of her shirt, scarily waiting for her dad’s reaction. 

“At this time of night? .. out your window?”

“Ye-”

“Phone privileges. Give me it.” Ran demanded, palm stretched out. 

“But-” no question she was a tad bit spoiled by her father. You being the bad cop, while your husband played the good cop for his beloved daughter. 

“If you want to go anywhere all you got to do is ask!” Ran plucked the phone from his daughter's hand, a wave of relief washing over him. Secretly thanking whatever being watching over him that it wasn't some sort of gang related subject. 

“This is what you get for spoiling her!” You laughed from the sidelines, hand clutching your stomach.

“This is your fault too ya know!” Ran argued. 

“I’m the one who tries to discipline her! But someone always lets it go!” You emphasized the special somebody. 

“Whatever” Ran sighed, This was a lesson for the usual carefree man, a special lesson he wouldn't forget in the many years to come with his unborn future children. 

S A N Z U 

It was Sanzu’s best day of his life when his daughters were born, the two only being about one year apart. They were spoiled to the core, anything they wanted their money liberl father blessed them with. He thought they were the sweetest things ever, them both being a daddy's girl after all. 

He never would have expected to see both of his daughters outside his humble abode, standing beside two boys, most likely a double date. 

He stared in shock, hands pressed firmly against the glass, teeth gritting. 

“Huh? I tucked them into bed an hour ago” You rubbed your eyes, riding yourself of the sleepiness threatening to drown you. The pink haired only tutted his teeth, swifty twisting the door knob to confront the four children outside. 

“Oh you better run” your oldest daughter whispered, gesturing for the boys to make haste from her deadly father. 

“You better not come back here, unless you want trouble you fuckers!” Sanzu yelled, red in the eyes from anger. Not bothering to chase after the two scoundrels. 

“Dad, mom! What are you guys doing awake?” Your youngest asked, sheer panic in her eyes, watching her insane fathers unpleasant smile. 

“I swear you two will be the death of me” Sanzu uttered, shoving his hands into his pockets. A irked gleen in his orbs as he stared them down. 

“They were just friends dad, stop overreacting” the older daughter said, 

“I- You little shi-” He bit his lip to suppress his anger fueled words, knowing well it would definitely hurt his precious children's feelings. Having regretted it later if he were to say those sinful words. 

“Now now Sanzu, let's head to bed” You wrapped your arms around your lover, dragging him inside the house. 

“You can sort out their punishment tomorrow, after a good night's sleep” , coating him with reassuring words. That day he learned how misjudged he was of his children, even so he still loved them with all his heart.

I Z A N A 

Izana had his feet kicked up, relaxing in his office while he watched the moon. He had a clear view, the street lamps positioned next to the sidewalk, the side of his beautiful house facing his office window. He was enjoying his free time, mind taking over his body while he thought about his life choices. He was in ease until he saw his son's window light up, a long string of rope being tossed out the opening. 

Sitting up from his chair, he rushed over to his clear casement. Throwing his window open, a boy and girl standing beneath his son's window. The two holding the rope still as your child tried to slid down. 

“My my Yuki, where are you off to?” Izana laughed, nerves finally relaxing when he figured out what was going on. Calmly settling into the frame, head leaning on his chin. It wasn't like he had the right to be upset, he did much worse when he was his son's age. Robbing, fighting, killing. You name it, Izana’s done it. 

Sneaking out was nothing compared to what he did, but he wasn't gonna just let his son go. He was more wise now, he knew for a fact he didn't want his son to end up anything like him. Sure, he wanted the boy to have fun, but in a normal kid way. 

“Dad! Um- I”

“You better get your arse back up that window before I drag you around with that rope” Izana smiled, Totally different from the sentence he was portraying. Not forgetting his manners, giving a nonchalant wave to the other two kids. 

“Zana? Who are you talking to?” You asked, placing a cup of tea you had prepared for Izana on his desk. 

“Oh no one doll” Izana answered, closing the window before walking over to you. 

“Let's go to bed, yeah?” He proposed, trailing his hands around your shoulders, guiding you to the door.

“But the tea I made”

“Im tired~” 

Overall the male wouldn't want to talk further about the situation, nor would he discuss it with you. Trivial matters held no place between you both, as long as the child did not dare do it again. 

I N U I 

Inui wiped the sweat dripping from his forehead, the AC wasnt working at the motor shop. Him, draken and yourself were sweating bullets, the hot material around you not helping. You had decided to help the pair around the shop, cleaning what you could. Or helping with cashing every customer out, it would've been an easy task if it wasn't blazing hot. 

Leaving your daughter home alone, obviously thinking she’d stay and do her teenage things. You couldn't be more mistaken, astounded as you watched her fiddle around with a boy across the street at the ice cream parlor. 

“Y/N please don't tell me that Kagura..” Inui’s jaw dropped, the wrench that was once in his clasp dropping to the ground. Startling the concentrating Draken that was crouched over a motorbike. 

“What's wrong Inui? Y/N” Draken twisted his body around, raising a brow when you two just started muttering to each other like two creeps. 

“Is that... a boy” Inui held his chin between his fingers, squinting to get a better view of his kid. 

“You trying to catch flies with your mouth Inui? Close your yap” You whispered, 

“Y/N! She's too young, I feel like I just held her in my arms not too long ago. She can't get married just yet!” Inui argued, he would've been on the verge of tears if he didn't have a reputation to uphold. 

“What? The fuck are you on Inui? She's probably just with a friend!” You patted his back, reassuring the man. 

“Boys and girls can be friends ya’know” you added.

Cueing the two children across the road from you, feeding scoops of ice cream to each other.

“I don't think friends do that..” Inui looked over at you, eyes widening when you swung the motor shop’s door open. Hands coming around your mouth to amplify your words,

“Kagura, is that your boyfriend?” 

“WHAT?” Inui almost fainted, the ledge behind him holding his wobbly frame up right. 

“I didn't know you guys would be here!” Your daughter jogged across the street, leaving the boy sitting by himself. 

“And no! Just a friend” She answered your embarrassing, blushing as she stared down at the ground.,

“I sense some lies” you wiggled playfully at the flustered girl. 

“What! Anyways, Sorry I left the house without telling you” Kagura apologized, 

“Just don't do it again, without my permission..” Inui stated, 

“Especially not with a boy.”

K O K O N O I

Bribing people is his forte, and if they did not obliged? Threatening always did the trick. 

And that's exactly what he did when he saw his descendant out with a male. All was dandy until the boy came running back, babbling about how his girl was the so called ‘love of his life’.

“Hey brat, you got a death wish?” Kokonoi asked, leaning against the door frame. 

“Koko go easy on him, he’s just a kid” You nudged the man, a mischievous grin plastered on the males face. 

“And I kinda think it's cute” You said, a small smile erupting from your daughter that was not so far behind her parents. 

“I approve, kid! I like your romantic drive!” You clapped, 

“Y/N!” Kokonoi pouted, 

“You better not try to bribe him with money again” You threatened, waving a finger at the whiny man. 

“Yeah! I like him too, dad!” Your daughter agreed. 

“You're like twelve, go play chess or something” Kokonoi barked, crossing his arms in disapproval. 

“Dad, I'm sixteen!” 

“That's what I said” 

S O U Y A 

He almost had a panic attack at the sight, having to shield the man from the scene playing out. Your twin daughter saying their goodbyes to their dates, followed by a kiss. You removed your hand when the boys were no longer in view, riding off in their motorcycles. 

“Shira, Nihra” You held Souya up by the shoulder, the light headed male limping towards the worried kids.

“What's wrong with dad?” Nihra questioned, eyeing her ghostly pale father. 

“He's out of it” You giggled, 

“I'm not crazy am i?” He stood tall, letting go of the arm you had draped around him. 

“There was boys-” His voice cracked. 

“You saw that dad?” Shira sweat dropped, watching as her fathers should leave his body. 

“Next time ask before you go out” You smiled, you weren't too strict on the two. They were Souya’s children, earning most of their adorable traits from him. Even his fighting skills. 

“This better not happen again, i'm trusting you” Souya grumbled.

“Sorry pops” The two girls remorsefully sollied the man, both hooking onto one of Souya’s arms as they helped his shell into the house. 

N A H O Y A 

Nahoya was beyond pissed, infamous smile widening. Taking fast steps towards your daughter and her significant other. 

“Look boy, I don't know who you are. But my daughters not up for grabs” Nahoya grinned, cracking his fingers. 

“O-okay sir” the boy was jittering, body trembling from the males intense arua. 

“If I catch ya here again” he used his finger to slash his neck, motioning to the death that would happily greet the boy if they were to ever meet again.

“Yer dead meat kiddo”  Nahoya laughed, watching as the boy ran for his life. 

“Dad, that was really extra!” Your daughter sneered, a pout on her lips. 

“Shut up!, you're grounded rat!” Nahoya shouted. 

“Yeah Nahoya, there was no need to threaten the poor kid. He looked like he was gonna piss himself.” 

“Exactly the effect i wanted”

End Note : as I said this was a word barf T-T, so it’s quite short.

Reblogs & Notes are always appreciated! Take care! ♡︎♡︎