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lowkeyremi · 3 months

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JJK MEN AS DADS

How they are with their kiddos/babies ! ft. gojo, geto, choso, toji, and nanami

content: no curse!au fluff, established relationship (marriage), children, families.

Gojo Satoru

"Look at my little boy, he looks just like me, what a heart stopper you'll be when you get older!" He praises his two year old, Kenji Gojo.

"'Toru stop trying to manifest our son into a hoe." Satoru turns to you with a loud gasp, eyes wide, and it causes your little boy to giggle.

"How could you say such words, in front of him? Don't listen to Mommy. Daddy was never a player. Never ever!" Kenji has no clue what's happening he just laughs at his father's dramatics.

"Oh brother, I hope he doesn't turn into a drama queen like you. And yes you were a player before I got with you. Remember when you kissed my friend then like ten minutes later tried to kiss me?" Satoru was a menace in college. Every time you bring up that specific college memory he always says-

"Ugh, blame Suguru! He was the one who made me take shots when I didn't like to drink." There it is. That was excuse for two-timing you and your best friend back then.

"Save it for someone who believes you. Kenji, don't be like Daddy when you grow up, okay?" Your husband knows you're joking but he can't help but whine and feel like you're being against him.

"Otay Mommy! Daddy is hoeeee. Hoe hoe hoe. Merry Christmas!" Your poor little boy thinks he's saying the noise Santa makes instead of a derogatory term and it's hilarious.

Of course you encourage him, "Daddy's a what?"

"Hoe!" Kenji screams out with a smile on his face. Satoru frowns loosing his playfulness.

"I-i guess my family just hates me... no one loves me." He sighs loudly to sell it to you guys but you don't buy it. He sits in the corner pretending to cry. "Boo hoo..." Kenji waddles his way over to his father patting his head.

"No cry Daddy, you not a hoe. You Daddy." Satoru fakes a loud gasp when he hears his son comfort him, thinking Satoru is actually crying.

"Really?!" He asks the little boy standing next to him.

"Yeah, Daddy is cool!!" Satoru chuckles, picks up is little boy and tosses him into the air. The small white haired child screams in delight as his father catches him, and you can't deny that all the trouble you and Satoru had in your relationship was worth seeing this.

Geto Suguru

"And then, the monster ate the twin girls who didn't go to sleep at their bed time-"

"Ooooookay. I think that's enough bed time stories from Papa." You say ushering your girls to bed, Hana looks scared out of her mind but Kana's eyes are sparkling with curiosity.

"Awww, Mommy, it was just getting good!" Kana whines, you know she wants to hear whatever else Suguru makes up on spot but he scared Hana who looks like she wants to cry.

"I know sweetie, but I don't think Hana really liked that story." The girls are six and full of energy at any given time.

"Come on baby, let me tell Kana the rest." Suguru matches his daughter's tone, knowing you'll give in.

"Alright, fine, but you need to apologize to Hana, look at her." Your husband looks at his younger twin daughter and he does feel kind of bad for scaring her like that. Suguru likes telling scary stories and myths to his girls just like his father had done to him. He always thought they were super cool.

"Oh, Hana, sweet girl. Papa's sorry. I didn't mean to scare you like that. How about I tell you and your sister a different story?" Hana looks a little doubtful as do you, but Suguru grants you a smile. He knows you trust him so you give him a stern look before kissing his forehead.

"Don't take too long, I need my cuddles." He smirks, kissing your hand, "Of course my dear."

The twins coo in unison at their parents romantic gestures, they think it's the coolest thing ever. "You girls have your stuffed animals?" He asks them and they nod together waiting for his story.

He tells the two about a princess who needed saving. Her long lost sister came to save her from a scary dragon and they lived happily together.

"That sounds like me and Hana!! I fought the scary dragon and Hana was the princess!!!" Kana says with excitement. Sometimes Suguru sees two little girls he used to foster in his own girls. He wonders how they're doing these days. They're probably grown up by now or at least in their late teens.

"I really wish Mommy had let me name you guys Nanako and Mimiko." He whispers with a soft smile. Kana looks at him in confusion rubbing her tired eyes, Hana's already asleep.

"Huh?" Kana asks.

"Nothing my dear, good night, little one." He tucks her into bed and gives her a tend kiss on the forehead.

"Night night, Papa." She says with a yawn and Suguru makes his way downstairs to join you.

Kamo Choso

Choso bites his lip looking down at his son, the boy looks a lot like you he thinks. Ryuji is his name, you let him name him. "I didn't mean to break it." He whines to his father. Choso has a soft spot for his boy. He reminds him a lot of his little brother Yuji.

"I know bud, but what will we tell Mom when she gets home?" Ryuji had accidentally broken your favorite ceramic mug. Choso was not sure what he signed up for when he got you pregnant but it sure wasn't this.

He and his son were always getting scolded by you. Every time Ryuji gets into some kind of trouble it also happens to be Choso's fault for not watching him closely as you always say. The truth is, Ryuji seems to get into trouble even with his father watching him closely.

"Um... we can tell her it was at the edge of the counter and i walked past it and it fell down. Then it will be her fault for leaving it by the edge." Choso smiles at his devious ten year old. He knows lying is bad but if you heard what really happened you'd scold both of them.

What actually happened as that Ryuji was playing in the kitchen, even though you've warned him against it many times and he knocked your mug down onto the ground.

"Good idea, kid. I don't want to hear Mom yelling again. I might get couch treatment again." Choso shivers at the idea of sleeping on the cramped couch rather than in his warm bed with you.

"You remind me a lot of your Uncle Yuji." Choso says ruffling his son's hair. "You and Mom keep saying that and I don't know if that's good or bad."

"It depends. Yuji can be both." Choso chuckles. His son gives him a crushing hug.

"I love you dad, you're doing great." And Choso didn't know how much he needed to hear those words but they were getting to him.

Fushiguro Toji

"Quit kicking your Ma, ya little brat." He threatens your swelling belly. He gives you a questioning look when you glare at him. Those emerald eyes challenge yours in a staring contest.

"What is with you and threatening our unborn children?" Your question is followed by a giggle.

"Gotta let the brats know who's in charge." He blows out a breath and puffs his chest, you find the whole ordeal ridiculous. The man is a girl dad for crying out loud. Even his oldest, your step-son thinks his father is a clown. And before Tsumiki died there were three daughters in his life.

He thinks your third one is bound to be a boy, but you're secretly hoping for a girl just to further sink Toji's idea of having a little boy to boss around. Megumi comes around maybe twice a month to see his little half-sisters, which means Toji is surrounded by girls all the time.

You like to joke around with him and say, "What do you know? Girls seem to follow you wherever you go." He always grumbles about it being stupid and unfair.

"As I was saying-"

"DAD!!!!! MY HAIR OH NOOOOOOO." Toji's up off the couch in seconds answering at his daughter's beck and call.

He walks into her room to see her braid was messed up. "What happened, Doll?" He asks her, undoing the braid so he can redo it.

"Yui undid my braid!! She took my hair tie and ran to her room!!!" She squeals, in horror at her little sister's thieving.

"Oh did she now? I'll go have a talk with her once I braid this back up." He's gentle with his tender-headed daughter. He quickly braids her hair back up, the pattern memorized. 100% self indulgent bc im tender headed.

"I have this green hair tie, is that okay, sweet girl?" She sighs quietly. "Where are the blue ones?" Toji clicks his tongue. "I can go get one real quick if you hold the end of this braid." He tells her and she's quick to do it. Her favorite color is blue after all.

She cheers when her father returns with a blue hair tie. He ties it up quickly, "Okay let me go talk to Yui." Nami nods brushing out her baby doll's hair.

Toji makes an appearance in front of his four year old's door, she's making her dolls scream at each other. "What was da reason?!!!!" She screams pretending to be one of the dolls, "I had a reason." She makes the other say.

Toji rolls his eyes, his daughter has been watching too much TV with you. "Excuse me miss Cardi B, why did you steal your sister's hair tie?" His hands are on his hips and his eyes are squinted to add to his authority.

"Whattttt, Dad, you know dat?" She asks as if her dad lives under a rock.

"Tch I'm not old, I know what memes are. Now answer the question." She rolls her eyes. You tell Toji she gets her attitude from him.

"If you haf to know I needed it, so I could give Sprinkles a ponytail." Sprinkles is the dog Toji said he was NOT going to get for his girls but caved in and got anyway.

"Ya coulda asked me or your Ma for one rather than stealing it right from your sister's hair." She shakes her head in disagreement. Toji wonders what's going on in her head right now.

"Dad you don't get it! It had to be that one!"

"Why that specific hair tie?" She goes silent turning away from her father and mumbling something Toji can barely hear.

"Speak up, princess." She scoffs and sighs and folds her arms. Wow the sass is unreal.

"Sprinkle thinks Nami is super cool so she wants what Nami has." Toji isn't stupid he knows his daughter is using the dog as a place holder for how she admires her older sister. Yui doesn't like to admit it though.

"Are you sure it's Sprinkle who thinks Nami is super cool?" He gives her the chance to be open with him and she sighs taking the bait.

"I guess. I think Nami is super cool." She murmurs and Toji smirks.

"It's alright to think your sis is cool, Dad didn't get to grow up with any cool siblings. Just annoying cousins."

"Mai and Maki are cooler than you, Dad, not annoying!" The man in question raises his brow his smirk never leaving, "Okay since I'm not cool. I guess I won't take you out for treats anymore when Ma says no."

Little Yui gasps, bursting upward like a rocket and running toward her dad. She hugs his leg, her little head looking up at him, "I was kidding Dad. You're super cool. Please don't stop taking me for treats!!"

Toji smiles, picks up his little girl and tickles her. She screams out for him to stop, "Huh? I can't hear what you're saying."

"Nami help!!!!"

In seconds Nami's attacking her father in a playful manner, "Let go of my sister!!"

"Okay then." Toji holds his daughter upside down by her feet, as she screams some more. "MA!!! HELPPP!!!!"

"Toji put her down." You say in a half-hearted manner.

"She is down. Upside down."

Nanami Kento

"See, you're getting the hang of it, Hiro." Kento softly encourages his son who's struggling with his math homework. You had tried to help him but he screamed that what you were saying didn't make sense. So of course you yelled back, letting your emotions get the better of you.

Kento had stepped in to keep you two from ripping each other's heads off. Plus all that screaming had woken up the baby. You could hear her crying.

That was about an hour ago. You quietly walked into the dining room with your seven month old baby girl cuddled up to your chest as you held her tight.

The sight of your husband helping your son warmed your heart, but you also felt guilt hot in your stomach for yelling at him, he's only twelve.

"Hey, Hiro. Can I talk to you, hon?" You ask softly. Both your son and Kento turn their heads upon hearing your voice. He nods at you and you inhale deeply, "I'm sorry for yelling at you, bud, I didn't mean it."

His eyes soften as do Kento's.

"I'm sorry too, Mom. I started it. You were just trying to help me." Kento's smile encourages you to walk closer to the table which you do.

"We should have had Dad come help in the first place, huh? I'm not good at explaining." Hiro shares a laugh with you, and Kento cups your cheek.

"Explanations might not be your strong suit but you're still a good mother, baby." Hiro gags at his father calling you "baby" he hate when you two get sappy.

You move your head a little so you can kiss his palm. As expected Hiro covers his eyes and making more throwing up noises.

"Oh hush, one day you'll find someone for you, and you'll be just like me and your mother." Kento says rolling his eyes and you giggle. Even though you guys have your differences you guys always forgive each other at the end of the day.

Your little girl coos quietly and Kento holds out his arms gesturing for his little girl.

"She's just had dinner, so she might fall asleep on you." Your warning doesn't bother him at all, if anything, you'll probably have more pictures to add to your baby gallery on your phone if she falls asleep in his arms.

She's already a dad's girl and she's only seven months old. You thought maybe Hiro would be a mama's boy but he's definitely his daddy's son.

You don't mind though, well, sometimes you're a little jealous that you have to share your man with your kids. Kento's a very lovable man though, so you can't blame them.

#jjk #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk as dads #jjk!dads #jujutsu kaisen as dads #dad!au #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru x reader #choso x reader #choso kamo x reader #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader

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iudiex · 9 months

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cutely commits crimes

cutely drags him around by the tail.

" non. "

#sentences you to listening to neuvillette read out loud in french for the next 8 hours #take that #you're making us water dragons look bad dh #tempestial #⋅ ♛ ⋅ — › ᴊ'ᴀᴠᴏᴜᴇ ᴊᴇ ᴍᴀᴜᴅɪs. — ⌜ answered ⌟

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allfearstofallto · 2 months

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Also wanting to write a yandere historical au!! Like so bad!! Like imagine...

[Part 2] [Part 3]

Spoiled Prince! Scaramouche who gets whatever he desires as the next in line for the throne. He needlessly torments you, his favorite maid to pick with. He knows that you can't run away, not while you're so poor and desperate. You're at his mercy, his every beck and call until you decide that you'd rather live on the rat infested streets than in his palace any longer. But you quickly begin to notice that the streets are littered with more than rodents, when you are made aware that Scaramouche has sicked the palace guards on you. Dragged back to the mansion, where he waits for you with a scowl. How dare you think you can run away from him?

Hero of the Nation, Knight! Childe who was already popular with the ladies for his good looks long before he slayed the dragon tormenting the kingdom, but now he was bombarded with admiration. Yet he still chases you, the baroness with what you and others assume is nothing special to your family's name. You ignore his constant bombardments of gifts and love letters thinking them to be jokes at your expense. Why would he want you, when the princess, the jewel of the city, has asked for his hand three times over? He practically goes mad with rage when he finds out you're arranged to be married to someone else. You accept being betrothed to another, yet you won't take him?

Arranged Husband! Diluc who you're weary of. Your father assured you that he was the most suitable marriage candidate for your family that was running low on funds, and he always seemed disinterested, almost scared of you. You're wed to him a mere three months after meeting him and with only two letters exchanged between the two of you. Moved into an unfamiliar palace, you try to wander the halls as normal, while avoiding your also unwilling husband. Until you stumble upon a room with a door slightly ajar. Your husband stands in it, surrounded by portraits of you on the wall that you never posed for, underwear and garments that had gone missing, and your bed linens from the night before. It begs the question, who did you marry?

I'm so sorry...I've been reading A LOT of reincarnated as a villainess manwhas...

#maiistalking<3 #genshin #yandere genshin #genshin x reader #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere x you #genshin impact #yandere scaramouche x reader #yandere childe x reader #yandere diluc x reader #yandere scaramouche #yandere childe #yandere diluc #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons

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angelltheninth · 4 months

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Malleus Draconia with a Breeding Kink

Pairing: Malleus Draconia x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, breeding kink, mentioned pregnancy, cockwarming, kink denial, creampie

A/N: Going back to my dragon man, gotta show him some love again.

Malleus with a breeding kink doesn't want to admit he has it. If you bring it up he'll deny it, and not only that he'll try to pull out of you just to make a point. But even if he does you can see his face clouded with regret that his cum is all over your body and not in your pussy where he not so secretly wanted it.

Malleus with a breeding kink would rather eat his cum out of your pussy and then kiss you to push some of it down your throat then let it all go to waste. He cups your face in his hands and wipes the remains of it from the corners of your lips. Then he trails his hand down your stomach to clean you up but his hand lingers there for a moment.

Malleus with a breeding kink talks about having kids a lot but never during sex because he doesn't want to pressure you. He knows you want them too but the time has to be right. No matter how much he wants to shoot his load into you he will pull out until you tell him it's okay to do it inside.

Malleus with a breeding kink will embrace you tight when you tell him you want to start a family with him and won't let you go until you tell him you need to breathe. To maximize the chances of making you pregnant he makes sure you finish right after him, every time without fail while he pistons his hips back and forth, coating your insides with his seed.

Malleus with a breeding kink keeps his cock nestled inside of you for hours, letting it go soft and then hard, fucking you again and letting that cycle repeat itself multiple times a day. You've gone fully limp more then once and he fucks you back to him every time. It's adorable really. You're so soft and warm under his touch, he never wants to let you go.

Malleus with a breeding kink says he just knows you'll have a big family together, lots of kids. He looks forward to it, he's already planning on making you pregnant again. He's getting a little ahead of himself but he would love to have a bunch of kids with you, to come up with all the names and see your kids grow up and learn everything that you know.

Malleus with a breeding kink knows you're pregnant before you do. It's not just the change in your scent but also in your magic. There's more of it now, and the source is right there in your belly, growing slowly over the next nine months. During those nine months he doesn't stop fucking you.

Malleus with a breeding kink never knew it was possible to be so horny until he saw you with a pregnant belly and how careful you were being, how gently you'd hum and caress your stomach. You're gonna make for a great mother, he can tell. So there's no harm in wanting to put more babies inside you is there? No there's not.

#twisted wonderland #malleus draconia #twst x reader #twst headcanons #disney twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst smut #twst malleus #malleus headcanons #malleus x reader #malleus hcs #malleus smut #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia smut

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arminsumi · 6 months

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「 🔴 RECORDING 」

found footage of satoru's student years... recorded on the camcorder that he carried around everywhere.

warnings : heavy angst, fluff, implied death, not proofread

[ the first footage is one minute long. there's two blue eyes widening comedically on the screen. the resolution is low and the audio is tinny. ]

"Ooo it works... well hellooooooo there... i'm... GOJO!! SATORU!! and this is... suguuuuruu getooooo... oh look at that walk, you're such a model."

[ the camera is on suguru, who's walking with bad posture. he doesn't like the camera. ]

[ he has his old hairstyle; this was recorded before his hair was long enough to be in the bun style. he hides his face from the camera. ]

"... aw, he's a model that doesn't like cameras. anyways... this is the beautiful... STUNNING... hot... talented... playing-hard-to-get... (haha kidding)... y/n~"

[ the camera pans to you. you can hear the flirty tone in satoru's voice. ]

"... we are currently walking through the gates of hell..."

[ the camera pans to the school. the resolution clears for a second to show a blue sky with slowly drifting clouds. ]

"okay. we have arrived in hell; look there's satan himself—"

[ the camera pans to yaga. ]

[ the footage ends with yaga confiscating satoru's camera and scolding him. ]

[ a video starts off shaky. the camera is dropped on the train floor and suguru sighs. ]

"satoru...... did you just break it after having it for one day?"

[ satoru picks it up and gives a toothy smile to the screen. ]

"nah. she's all good. not even a scratch. ooh... suguru we look so hot. and look how hot y/n is... she's so scandalous — sittin' next to me on the train. this proximity's got me sweatin', baby... kidding kidding... don't gimme that look!"

[ suguru gives the middle finger to the camera and satoru's iconic laugh sounds beautiful even through the crap audio quality. ]

[ there's a 3 minute video that's half-corrupted of a party happening in your apartment... of just you, satoru, suguru and shoko. lykke li's "i follow rivers" is playing loudly, satoru is screaming the lyrics in broken english and suguru is recording you and him dancing like maniacs. shoko is offering her cigarette to the camera and blowing smoke into the lens. ]

[ there's a 25 second clip of satoru aggressively kissing you until you laugh. ]

[ there is a photo of satoru crouching to pet a cat. he's holding an umbrella. ]

[ there is corrupted footage of laughter and a flicker of the video shows a tiny pot on a stove with ramen cooking in it. ]

[ there's a photo of you, satoru, suguru and shoko. you and satoru are looking at each other like lovebirds. suguru is giving the finger to the camera. shoko is laughing with her eyes closed. ]

[ a long video of satoru waking up in a hotel bed. he looks like he just woke up. he blinks at the camera, bleary-eyed and cute with puffy lips and messy hair. ]

"goodmornin'."

[ his morning rasp is strong. ]

"i'm awake... but miss sleepy head and mister sleepy head are not, as you can see..."

[ he zooms in on your face. you're laid at his right, and suguru is laid at his left. ]

"here's the sleeping angel... and here's the sleeping dragon... anyways... WAKEY WAKEYYYYYYYYY!!! IT'S A BRIGHT NEW DAY!!!"

[ suguru's wakeful groan sounds groggy and disturbed by satoru's loud, piercing wake-up call. you scrunch your face as you wake up, seemingly out of a dream. ]

"satoru... what the hell is the matter with you..."

[ it's an ultra close-up shot of your nose as you mumble this. ]

"i was lonely being awake by myself, gosh. you're so mean!"

[ he experiences a voice crack. suguru gives a sleepy, murderous look at his best friend. ]

"satoru... i swear i'm gonna throw that camera into traffic one day."

[ suguru's mumbling into his pillow too softly to be taken seriously. ]

"wanna say that to the camera?"

[ suguru looks grouchy. ]

"i'll kill you."

"WOW... buddy, this is evidence if you ever do kill me... the police will find this footage... 'n put your FLAT ass in jail. aw... y/n fell back asleep look look... aw she's so fucking precious."

[ suguru and satoru admire you for a bit. there rest of the footage is corrupted. ]

[ footage of a breakfast in the same hotel. sunny side eggs are zoomed-in on. and there's only eggs. ]

"we're too broke to buy bacon, isn't that cool?"

[ satoru gets a nice view up his nose as he tilts the camera to himself. then he turns the camera to you, who's sleepily eating this miserable breakfast. ]

"... so we just have eggs to eat... heyyyy hot babe..."

[ satoru flirts with you and you roll your eyes in response, smiling and chewing on your egg, fork in one hand. ]

"wanna hear a joke?"

"mhm."

"if you ever broke up with me, what would you call me?"

"an idiot?"

"your eggs."

[ you groan and stop eating because his pun was so awful, but you've got a big smile on your face and satoru is laughing heartily. ]

[ the video ends with you and satoru leaning in for a big kiss and a sleepy suguru walking into the room, itching his tummy under his shirt. ]

[ there's a clip of you, satoru, suguru and shoko yelling happy new year and watching fireworks explode into blazing, brilliant colors. suguru winks at the camera as you hold it and you giggle flirtatiously back. there's clearly tension between you two that neither satoru nor shoko acknowledge in the moment, because the fireworks distract them. ]

[ there's footage of you, satoru and suguru kissing. it ends with satoru kissing the camera as a joke. ]

[ most of the footage is corrupted after this. in the next video, satoru seems a bit older. ]

[ there's footage of a solo satoru, who's been enlightened and and burdened with being the strongest. he's on a mission alone, keeping the camcorder on as he exorcises a curse. he trots over to the camera. he seems less enthusiastic compared to the other videos. ]

"aaand that's what the strongest looks like while he's at work."

[ satoru looks smug and goofy, but something is off. his features look worn and tired. ]

[ there is already that slightly disingenuous liveliness showing in his demeanor just in this small video; the version of satoru that his students would know as just normal gojo sensei. ]

[ his smile falters as he rambles about y/n and suguru. ]

"i'm gonna give y/n a big kiss when i get home. miss you, angel. haha... why am i talking to a camera all by myself... that's so sad. i'm gonna film myself gettin' that kiss at home, just to prove i'm not some lonely idiot. i have a hot fiancé..."

[ one of the last photos taken on this camera is dated; august 2009. it's of you and satoru sharing a big kiss... neither of you knew it at the time, but it was your last kiss. ]

[ the next piece of footage is from 2018. it's a 28 year old gojo, his features show his maturity and the weathering of all the years he's endured living without you and suguru.]

"i found this camera while cleaning up. if i look 'n sound funny it's 'cuz i've been crying haha......"

"...... i miss you two..... haha... i can't shove the camera in your faces like i used to, now can i?"

[ he awkwardly smiles at the camera but then his face trembles and contorts into an ugly-cry as if he just remembered every single memory of his youth. ]

[ the footage ends with a broken, barely audible "fuck..." falling from the teacher's lips as he starts to cry and drops the camera to the floor. the rest is corrupted footage... just heaving sobs of the man who has no more memories to record with suguru and y/n. ]

I do not permit the copying/reposting/translation/plagiarism of my works. Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

This is fictional work.

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valeskafics · 28 days

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"Catch Me If You Can" - Prince Regent!Aemond Targaryen x Niece!Reader

a/n: combined two anon requests with one from @the-shadow-queen02. i hope y'all like it 🩷

Summary: Aemond offers you the opportunity to run from him. But if he catches you? You're all his.

TW: DUBCON, profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, chase kink/primal play, degradation, kidnapping, CANON TYPICAL INCEST, fingering, p in v sex, breeding kink, creampie, mentions of character death

Word Count: 3,500

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

You once thought Aemond cared for you. Those days seem so long ago now. All before Driftmark, when he claimed Vhagar and lost his eye at your brother’s hand. Your families ensured that you were unable to remain in contact. And so, Aemond’s obsession grew and grew to unnatural levels. He imagined you, sitting beside him on the Iron Throne, though he knew it was a fool’s dream. Your mother was next in line. And you were betrothed to Jace. Your insipid twin. What a fool your mother was, to promise you to your brother. He would never be able to love you like Aemond.

Seeing you again in the training yard, the day of the Driftmark petition, was like a jolt of lightning. The two of you simply stared at each other. And when Aemond did not speak, merely continued to look at you, his lips pressed together in a thin line, you reached for your brother’s hand, wishing for comfort, the heaviness in your heart at your former companion’s cold demeanor being almost too much to bear. If only you knew how hot his rage burned as he watched you turn to Jacaerys instead of him. If only you knew that it was he who deserved you. Not Jace.

No matter the circumstances, no matter the warnings his mother and grandsire gave him, nothing was enough to temper Aemond’s desire for you. No matter how twisted the story grew, how twisted his love became, nothing was enough to make him stop and realize what he was doing.

It was not enough for Aemond to support his elder brother’s usurpation of the throne that belonged to your mother by right. It was not enough for Aemond to chase after your brother on his war dragon, knowing full well how dire the consequences could be if either of them were to lose control. It was not enough for Aemond to be directly responsible for Luke’s death. It was not enough for Aemond to come to Dragonstone in the dead of the night and steal you away from your family. It was not enough for him to make you bend the knee to him while he sat the throne in Aegon’s stead as Prince Regent, a contented smirk on his face as you pledge your fealty.

Aemond declares that you are to be his chambermaid. Indignation at this insult crosses your face, but you nod, accepting your fate. Biding your time until your Mother, Daemon, and Jace come to save you.

He enjoys having the excuse of you being his maid to keep you around him at all times. Fetching his wine and the water for his bath, preparing his clothes, making his bed. Aemond just stares at you, unblinking, a smirk on his lips when you work in his chambers. He imagines this is how it might have been had the two of you just been two of the smallfolk. A little house on the edge of the Kingswood. You? His pretty little wife, a gaggle of children at your heels. The idea makes him chuckle to himself as you approach, anger in your eyes as you speak in an icy tone.

“Is there anything else you require of me, kepus?” You question icily. (uncle)

Aemond remains silent for a moment, just staring at you, but when you roll your eyes and turn to leave, he calls out in a commanding tone, “Remove my boots, perzitsos.” (little flame)

He can see how angry you are as you walk, both at the nickname and at the humiliation of the task he has assigned you. You sit on your knees beside his bed, making quick work of your boots. A scowl mars your otherwise pretty face and Aemond is not at all surprised when you glare up at him and speak, fiery little thing you’ve always been.

“Are you so useless that you can’t even remove your own boots, Uncle?”

His smile is equal parts amused and annoyed at your insolence, a soft chuckle falling from his lips before he replies, “Perhaps I am.” His voice is low and soft, oozing with dominance and power, having grown into the man he always longed to be, “I shall require your assistance with the rest of my attire as well.”

Rage seeps from your every pore as Aemond stands and you help him out of his tunic, his upper body bared to you. Aemond can tell you are doing your best to act unimpressed, not to look, but he knows you find him handsome. He can see the way your gaze lingers on his chest, his abdomen, admiring his lithe, lean form. You look at him as if you cannot decide whether you wish to kiss him or to kill him. It’s fair, he supposes. The nature of your relationship is quite complicated.

Aemond’s voice is a soft purr as he extends a hand toward you, caressing your cheek, “You could put an end to all of this and simply agree to be my bride, dārilarītsos. As it was always meant to be.” (little princess)

You sneer at him, shoving his tunic in his hands, “I would die before I wed you.”

Your words sting more than he cares to admit. You do not mean that, not really. He shakes his head, pulling his hand back before speaking again.

“I am not through with you yet, little one. You will stay here and sleep beside me. It is your duty as both my chambermaid and my future bride.”

“I am not your bedwarmer, Aemond,” you reply sharply, glaring at him, “I remain loyal to Jace. I will always remain loyal to him.”

Aemond scoffs at your response, rolling his eye before regarding you once more, “I do not ask for you to be my bedwarmer. I want so much more than that. You are far more than that to me and you know it. Why else would I have risked everything to take you from Dragonstone? Now stay.”

He pulls you toward him by the wrist and you stare up at him, shaking your head, “Why are you doing this to me? There was once a time I would have considered us friends.”

He hums in acknowledgement, his thumb finding your pulse point on your wrist, the sensation of your blood pumping bringing a strange sort of calm to him, “We were friends, weren’t we?” He muses, his free hand moving to twirl a strand of your hair around his finger, “I wonder what changed that, hm? Perhaps when you abandoned me in favor of your bastard brothers.”

“Or perhaps when you killed one of them.”

No one else would be able to pick up on it. The way your voice cracks ever so slightly. But Aemond does. He averts his gaze, ashamed, if only for a moment.

“It was… Unfortunate. What happened to Luke. But I would be lying if I said I felt any sort of guilt for that other than the pain it caused you, dārilarītsos.”

“He was my brother, you heartless monster!”

“Heartless?” Aemond repeats, shaking his head, “I am many things, dear niece. But heartless is not one of them-”

“Let me guess,” you laugh bitterly, cutting him off mid-sentence while he continues brushing his fingers through your hair, “You love me. Is that what you mean to say? That you have done all this so you can have me? All because you believe yourself to be the better man for me? That you can love me in a way that Jace cannot?”

“Indeed,” he nods, chuckling slightly, “I love you in a way that Jace will never be able to. I am everything that he is not.”

“In that he has a heart and you do not?”

Your acerbic wit never fails to amuse him. He shakes his head, laughing to himself quietly. Aemond knows he is the best man for you. Jacaerys is soft. Weak. He will never be able to protect you in the way that Aemond can.

“You know you love me. In your heart of hearts, you know it.”

“Maybe I once did,” you relent, “But how could you ever expect me to love the man who murdered my little brother?”

Aemond moves to rest his palm on your cheek, his voice barely above a whisper as he speaks, his thumb brushing against your lower lip, “Do you hate me? Truly?” When you give him an unconvincing nod, he merely smiles at you, leaning in close, his forehead resting against your own as he rasps, “You do not.”

The moment is charged with emotions you cannot even begin to understand. Butterflies swirl in your stomach as you meet his gaze, that cold blue eye boring into you. Aemond waits for you to close the distance, for you to give into what is there between you, what has always been there. But you merely wrench yourself from his arms, bidding him good evening, a frown on your face.

Aemond snarls with frustration, following after you, “You are not getting away from me that easily, dārilarītsos.”

“Stop calling me that!” You snap, “You’ve taken me from my family. You’ve humiliated me. Made me your prisoner. Your servant. What more do you want, Aemond? How much more do you wish to hurt me?”

“You think I wish to hurt you?” He questions incredulously, following after you and grabbing your hand, forcing you to face him, “I have taken you for the sole purpose of making you mine. Not to hurt you.”

“I would die before being yours, Kinslayer.”

Your words are like a slap to his face, but he remains undeterred, grasping your forearms, holding you in place, “Perhaps you need to be made to understand how much it is that I love you.”

“If you really loved me, you would let me go.”

Aemond lets out a disbelieving laugh. He shakes his head, a rueful smile on his face. He wishes he was a less selfish man. That he could let you go. But he cannot.

“It is precisely because I love you that I cannot let you go. I love you too much to let you go. I will do anything and everything to ensure you stay by my side.”

“That’s not what love is!” You look at him, tears pricking at your eyes, “You have no idea what love is.”

“You can keep telling yourself that. Repeating your mother and Jace’s words. But you know it is a lie. You know how I love you. That you are mine and I am yours. And I intend to prove it to you,” Aemond lets go of you, taking a step backward. You stare at him, confused, waiting for him to speak, “You say if I love you, I will let you go? I release you. Run. Run as fast and as far as you can. If you manage to escape me, to outrun me, you will have your freedom. But if I catch you…”

“If you catch me, then you keep me,” you finish his trail of thought.

“Indeed. So run, little one. Try and escape me.”

For a long moment, you stand there, frozen. Is this a trick? Some cruel joke? That he wishes to dangle your freedom before you only to cruelly snatch it away? But, it would be foolish of you not to at least try. So, you turn from him and break into a sprint, running down the halls as fast as you can. Aemond gives you a headstart, in his valiant attempt to be a gentleman. To be fair. But he knows he will catch you. Because deep down, he knows the truth you have tried so desperately to hide from everyone, even yourself.

You want to be caught.

You make it all the way to the Godswood. Your blood feels like ice in your veins, your breath coming harder and faster than ever before. You have been running so long now that your muscles ache and your body has begun to tire. You have put a fair amount of distance between yourself and Aemond, so you hide behind the Heart Tree, giving yourself a moment to catch your breath. Then you see it. Your saving grace. For a moment, you think it’s a mirage - the mare that stands before you. But it is not. You hear it whinny, Aemond’s footsteps approaching you, and you make a split second decision. To climb atop the beast, urging it into a gallop as you race toward the Kingswood. You know if you get far enough, Vermithor will hear your call. You simply need to make it to the woods.

Aemond is hot on your heels, having found a stallion of his own to give chase. His blood pumps, like fire in his veins. His horse’s hooves hit the ground with every gallop bringing him closer and closer to you. He can smell your scent on the wind, like a hunter stalking its prey. He enters the woods close behind you, and when the thicket grows too precarious to continue on horseback, both of you leave your rides behind and continue the pursuit on foot. Aemond is mere footsteps behind you, watching as you duck under low-hanging branches, jump over tree roots. Your arms and legs keep getting scratched by the obstacles in your way and yet you continue.

Aemond is confident he will catch up to you, at one point even brushing his fingers along the back of your skirt, making you let out a shriek. It gives you renewed energy, your speed picking up despite the ache in your muscles. Aemond knows he could catch up to you if he speeds up as well. But he has a different idea.

You turn when you hear him let out a moan of pain, faltering in your escape. He presses a hand to where his eye once rested, pretending as though he is unable to continue on. Aemond watches as you glance between him and the path ahead, murmuring his name softly. If you return to him, he will know that you truly do love him. No matter what you say. You take a hesitant step toward him, then another and another until you stand before him.

“Are you alright?”

A smile spreads across Aemond’s face as he moves his hand, revealing that you have been deceived, speaking in a soft voice, “I see that you do care for me after all. You do love me.” Your eyes go wide at the realization and you step backward, stumbling over a root and falling to the ground. You crawl backward as Aemond continues advancing on you, “I knew you would fall for it. No matter how much you resist my love, you realize that you need it. You desire it.” Your back hits a tree trunk and you let out a noise of surprise, realizing that you’ve been trapped. Aemond kneels down in front of you, resting a hand on your cheek as he whispers, “There is nowhere left for you to run, dārilarītsos.”

You let out a sharp breath, your eyes closing as you breathe, “Make it fast.”

“Open those pretty eyes, little one.” Aemond realizes that you have misinterpreted his intentions and shakes his head. He leans in to whisper in your ear, his breath tickling your skin, “I have no intention of killing you.”

“You wish to kill everyone else. My mother. Daemon. Jacaerys,” you pause, meeting his gaze, “I am my mother’s heir. A direct threat to Aegon’s rule. His legitimacy as king. I am sure your grandsire has suggested to you that I be done away with.”

Aemond chuckles, though it is not one of amusement. It is disbelief.

“My grandsire does not command me. Nor does he command my heart. If I cared about you being a threat to Aegon, I would’ve killed you outright when I took you from Dragonstone. I could never kill you.”

He runs a hand through your hair, and you lean into his touch in spite of your better judgment, “I should hate you. I want to. I want to hate you so badly.”

“No, you don’t,” he replies quietly, “You do not hate me. You never have. You never could.”

You let your resolve weaken for a fleeting moment, and Aemond takes full advantage of it. He pins you to the ground beside the tree, holding your wrists above your head, his entire body’s weight holding you down. You stare up at him, shocked. His hold is firm as he keeps you in place, his free hand running along your side, squeezing at your soft flesh. When you try to turn your face, squirming in his grip, he moves to hold your chin in place, his voice still soft.

“Look at me. I want to see those eyes.”

Reluctantly, you face him, your eyes opening. He has removed his eyepatch, and with anyone else, you’d think it was an attempt to frighten them. But with you? You know it’s because he wants you to see him. All of him. And you gaze upon him without fear, his hold on you unrelenting. His lips meet yours in a violent, passionate kiss. You try to refrain from returning it at first, but you find that you cannot. His love is suffocating, dangerous. And yet, you cannot shy away from it. He is a murderer, a kinslayer. He hates your family and everything they stand for. And yet, your body cries out for him. Longs to be touched by him.

Aemond is quite satisfied with himself when his hand moves between your thighs and he finds you wet beneath your smallclothes. He teases you, his fingers grazing against you but never fully pushing inside, your body chasing his touch. Aemond’s lips move to your neck, biting down harshly as he finally pushing his fingers inside you, your cries of pleasure echoing through the Kingswood as he pumps the digits in and out of you at a breakneck pace. You try to hide your face, to hide the fact that you’re enjoying this, but your body does not lie. Aemond knows you want this. That you want him just as desperately as he wants you with the way your peak comes to you, hard and fast, making you all but scream his name.

The way you squeeze around him makes Aemond’s cock grow harder, the thought of burying himself inside you, of filling you over and over, spilling his seed inside you, watching you grow fat with his child completely mesmerizing him. You have always been so kind, even to those who didn’t deserve it. Even to wretched souls like him. He knows you will make a wonderful mother. And an even more wonderful wife.

Aemond pushes up the fabric of your dress and undoes his breeches hastily, thrusting inside you with a low growl of your name, rutting against you at a feverish, almost inhuman pace. And you stare up at him, lips parted. He keeps his grip on your wrists, feeling your pulse beneath his fingertips. It reminds him that you are truly there, with him, beneath him. There for him. That you stopped running and came to him. And the thought of that is sweeter than any victory he may have found in battle. The way your body writhes against his, his little princess, his prey caught in his grasp is more enjoyable than he ever could have dreamed. And you? Try as you might to hide it, he can see the way you gaze at him, admiring his sapphire, his scar, his remaining eye, the sharp line of his cheekbones. You find him every bit as beautiful as he finds you, though you would never admit it.

He kisses you again, his hips slotting against yours desperately, feeling the way you squeeze around him so tight that he can barely move. You reach your peak at the feel of his cockhead bullying against your sweet spot, your arousal soaking his cock, but he is not yet satisfied. He has not yet bred you. He continues, his mind running wild with thoughts of himself sitting the Iron Throne, you as his queen. Aegon is not long for this world, Aemond thinks. And he was never fit to be the king. With him as king and you, Rhaenyra’s heir as queen, the Dance can be brought to an end.

And perhaps, he will finally earn your forgiveness for what he did to your brother.

“I love you,” he rasps against your lips, moving faster and faster, feeling your legs wrap around his, allowing him to fuck you deeper than before, “And it is because I love you that I will never allow you to escape me, dārilarītsos. You and I are bound. We have been for as long as we have known each other.”

“I hate you,” you whisper weakly, burying your face in his neck as he spills himself inside you, “I hate you.”

And he will take your hate. Because he can bear it.

Because with your hate comes your love.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond fic #aemond x fem!reader #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #prince aemond x reader #ewan mitchell #house of the dragon #my writing #aemond oneshot #aemond #strong!reader #targcest

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etheries1015 · 9 months

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You were standing in the kitchen, your shirt exposing your shoulders whilst leaving a majority of your back uncovered. You were cutting up veggies for dinner, swaying back and forth as you hummed a tune that was stuck in your head, not realizing he was standing behind you and gazing at your figure lovingly, admiring your fluid movements...

Malleus

He smiles gently. He loves moments like this, walking in on you doing something so mundane made the rhythm of his heart even out with tranquility. Next thing he knew he was behind you, bending over to allow hands to wrap around your waist. You let out a startled gasp, halting your movements. Malleus then pressed his lips gently against your shoulder, planting a gentle yet warm kiss. You blushed and leaned your head towards his, chuckling at his sudden affection.

"You're skin looks soft right now...if you're not careful, I believe you may be eaten by a dragon," He joked. You chuckled and rolled your eyes, your hands continuing to work on the meal at hand.

"Would you like to help me?" You asked with affection in your tone, turning your head enough to give him a kiss upon his cheek. He smiled at this before standing up straight, heading towards his apron hanging up.

"I'd love to, dearest."

Lilia

The short Fae hovered over to you eagerly as you worked the veggies you cut into the pan, however you already knew his tactics. You turned around swiftly spatula in hand, quickly knocking whatever monstrosity was in his hand. You were successful and causing him to drop the strange shaker of spices he had attempted to sneak into your dish. He raised an eyebrow as you turned back around with the roll of your eyes before sneaking his arms around your waist and his lips heading towards the crook of your neck.

"You're getting better at that," He chuckled, "Although I'm feeling a little rejected! This meal could of course use some more ingredients...that dried lizard skin spice I acquired is supposed to be incredibly good for you. I was rather excited to try it..." You huffed in exasperation, not replying to his antics. You hadn't much of a reaction until you felt his teeth grazing your shoulder , biting down. You hissed slightly, giving him a side glare.

"What a glare! I couldn't help myself my little bat. You look far more appetizing than food right now..."

Trey

"Are you making dinner?" The voice of your loving boyfriend called out, walking over to you before putting on an apron and taking out various amount of ingredients. You glanced over at him before grimacing slightly.

"Trey..." You said hesitantly, "if you keep insisting on making dessert every night, I'm going to inevitably gain a lot more weight than I want to..." Trey looked startled at this, turning to you with eyes wide open with shock. He immediately rushed to your side, giving you a brisk embrace. His hands held you around your sides as he caressed your hips lovingly, planting a kiss on your forehead.

"Don't worry about that," Trey said, pushing his glasses up and onto his head , staring into your eyes with nothing short of affection, "What matters is you enjoy what you're eating. I won't force you of course, but if gaining weight is what you're worried about, get that out of your head right now." He used his strong arms to hold you tightly to his chest, his lips trailing kisses down your jaw. You smiled and hugged him back, taking in his warmth. He always knew how to make you feel loved as he whispered into your ear, "you're perfect..."

Rook

He spent a few moments simply basking in your beauty, staring at you with his hands folded leaning against the frame of the kitchen door. He could honestly stare at you like this all day, he never was bored of you in any way shape or form. He finally took a few steps forward into the kitchen, arms widening as if ready to give you a hug.

"Chéri," He called out. You gasped and dropped your spoon, turning around before your face lighting up at the sight of your loving boyfriend. You eagerly jumped into his arms, Rook catching you with ease and his lips pressing a firm kiss against your forehead. "Is that chicken fricassée I smell? My dear you know my heart~" You chuckled and looked up at the (rather dirty) male.

"How was hunting? Successful I presume?"He gave you a nod and hummed peacefully, leaning over to give you a kiss before your hands interupted him, your finger held up to prevent him from planting that kiss. "Great!" You said, "Which means you get to shower and clean up. You smell like rode kill." Rook dramatically tilted his head back and placed his hands over his heart, acting as if he were in pain.

"Oh you wound me!" He cried out, before chuckling and turning on his heel, "then I shall be quick! I wish to claim that kiss as soon as I can~"

----

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roosterforme · 10 days

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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 2 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: The collection of letters that Bradley received from the fourth grade class provides him with entertainment while deployed. He takes the time to answer their questions and send a package back to the United States via air mail. But he has your email address. He also has a bit of a crush and some questions himself.

Warnings: Fluff, language

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

A few days later, when Bradley was done with his training protocols for the day, he returned to his bunk with a different mission in mind. While he unzipped his flight suit, he eyed the box which was taking up most of his nightstand, and a smile found its way to his lips. He managed to find a notebook that nobody wanted along with a thick, padded envelope, and he was going to take the time to respond to the fourth graders who wrote to him.

He'd spent hours poring over the letters, laughing at some of the questions from the kids and frequently picking up that one photo. He couldn't stop going back for more. For another look at you. Just one more look. Okay, this really was the last one. He had to toss it across the small room toward his duffel so he could focus on something other than your smile and the fact that he might have a tiny crush on a fourth grade teacher who knew absolutely nothing about him. Yet.

The note from Jayden was on the top, and Bradley opened it up and started to jot down a response.

Jayden,

It was so nice to hear from you and the rest of your class. To answer your pertinent questions, I am currently stationed on the USS Theodore Roosevelt. The most disgusting food in the mess hall is easily the cabbage rolls (which taste nothing like cabbage... or rolls). The best food in the mess hall is surprisingly the meatloaf. And yes, I would love to see a photo of your Cocker Spaniel. Please send one next time. I hope you're studying and doing your best in school.

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

The next note he decided to tackle was the one from Violet who had the tiniest handwriting he'd ever seen. The page had at least fifteen questions written out, but he decided to answer just a few for her. He had to squint as he skimmed through them again.

Violet,

You seem very inquisitive. That's a great quality to have, especially if you want to be a pilot someday. No, I did not attend the Naval Academy. I went to the University of Virginia. Yes, the Navy is way better than the Air Force. Yes, I can hold my breath underwater for three minutes. Yes, they actually made me do it. No, I don't think I could make it as a Navy SEAL. Yes, I have been staying hydrated and getting enough sun, thanks so much for asking. Keep studying hard, because you have a lot of school ahead of you before officer training.

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

Okay, so this was actually a lot of fun. Up next was a response to the note from Oliver, which made Bradley laugh every time he looked at it.

Oliver,

Thank you so much for drawing the different Naval aircrafts for me. I hate to break it to you, but I actually do not fly the F-35 Lightning II. Yes, I know they look 'sickeningly cool'. Yes, I know it would be like 'slam dunking off the back of a dragon'. I guess I never knew I was jealous of those pilots until right now.... But I fly the equally cool if not quite as sickening looking F/A-18 Super Hornet. And yes, I would be more than happy to draw my own version of one for you. See below.

Lt. Bradley Bradshaw

The ten minutes he spent replicating his own aircraft to the best of his ability for Oliver churned out a pretty damn good result. He fished his phone out of the nightstand and took a picture to email to Nat when he had time, because she would find this whole thing amusing. Then he reached for the letters from Harrison, Nia and Jackie. He wrote his responses, and after a bit, he had a decent sized stack of letters all ready to go back to the fourth graders.

After a few more days, he worked his way through the entire class, and each kid would soon have a handwritten response on the way. He just needed to figure out what he wanted to say to you. The pretty teacher from the class photo that he now kept tucked in with his personal items. He worked on that one last, writing your full name at the top of the page and wishing you didn't go by the very non-specific Ms. which gave him zero clue as to whether or not you were married.

The package you sent was the nicest piece of deployment mail I have ever received. Thank you. I'm lucky it ended up in my hands. I'm impressed by how much all of your students have learned about aviation this year. I just hope I did them justice in regards to the questions they had for me.

I also hope you don't mind that I replied to each kid individually. They had some very amusing stories and questions, and I wanted to acknowledge all of them. But there was one question in particular that I was asked so many times, I thought I'd answer it here instead. My call sign is kind of a silly one, so it's okay if you all laugh. I go by Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, and my helmet is mostly red, yellow and black.

Your kids seem like a fun bunch, but I bet they keep you on your toes. Feel free to let them know they can write back to me again, but please include my name on the package this time. I don't know that I'd be lucky enough to have it fall into my hands again by chance. I'll just be here somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean for a few more months, ready to answer any questions you throw at me. Hope to hear back from you soon.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

The following day, he packed everything up and dropped it off with the rest of the ship's outgoing mail. There was a rumor that a helicopter would be coming to pick it up in the next day or two, and he wanted to make sure it got back to California and those fourth graders as soon as possible. On his way back to his bunk, Bradley stopped by the lounge to see if there was an iPad free, hoping to send a quick email or two. He was in luck. He also happened to have your email address memorized.

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

You yawned at your desk and checked the time on your computer. Within the next ten minutes, your classroom would go from silent solitude to mass chaos, so you took a minute to clear out your email inbox. You had a few messages from some parents and a reminder about Spirit Week from the superintendent. And a random piece of junk mail that must have slipped through the spam filters. You didn't know anyone with a US Navy email address, and you didn't know anyone named Bradley Bradshaw.

As you closed your laptop, you gasped and tried to pry it back open again as quickly as you could. The Navy! The package you sent a few weeks ago! Maybe it was someone writing back to your class! Of course it could just be someone saying they were sorry that they didn't have time to engage with your students, but you figured even that was better than nothing.

"Come on," you whispered, entering your credentials again before your inbox reappeared on your screen. The email was just a few lines long, but it was addressed to you by name. You were smiling immediately as you read it.

I just wanted to let you know that I got the mail you sent to a deployed Naval Aviator. There's a package on its way to your school for your class. It should arrive in about a week or two. Your fourth graders provided me with several hours of entertainment, and I hope they find my answers to their many (and amusing) questions useful. Thanks for the laughs, and thanks for the photos, too. Can't tell you how much I've been enjoying them. Hope to hear from all of you again.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

You squealed and pumped your fists in the air. Someone actually got the box! And he actually responded! The other, older teachers thought you were just wasting your time when you deviated from the lesson plans a bit. Literally all of them said there was no way anyone would write back, even though you took the time to go through the proper channels at Top Gun on North Island. But now you could rub it in their faces, all thanks to Bradley Bradshaw who sounded like he'd had as much fun with this whole thing as your class had.

Then your day really started as Violet and Oliver burst into your classroom, calling out your name with excitement in their voices. The rest of your kids followed behind them, already asking about the plans for the day and what kind of adventure you'd be taking them on in each subject.

When you clapped your hands twice and said, "Good morning," they all clapped and replied with their own greeting, and then they sat quietly with their gazes fixed on you. "Guess who I just got an email from!"

"The president!"

"My grandma!"

"My Cocker Spaniel!"

"Oliver's grandma!"

You just shook your head and tried not to laugh as you said, "None of the above. But do you remember when we wrote and packed up those letters for a real aviator in the military to read?" Most of the kids nodded, so you added, "Well, he emailed us! And he sent us some mail that should arrive in about a week!"

And telling them that was a mistake. Because you didn't know a moment of peace after that. Every morning, you had kids rushing into the room to see if the promised piece of mail arrived yet. Every day you had to disappoint them, but you were finding yourself a little disappointed, too. You wanted to know what this Bradley Bradshaw guy sent back.

You'd responded to his initial email letting him know you and the kids in your class were delighted to hear from him and that you would let him know when the mail he sent arrived at your school. He didn't respond, but you figured he was busy. Too busy to constantly muck about with your class while he was thousands of miles away on a deployment.

And that was what left you standing at your desk with your mouth hanging open in awe when the padded envelope did finally arrive one morning. Because when you carefully cut it open, you found not just one letter to the class but individual handwritten notes, one for each child.

"Wow," you whispered, pulling the note with your name written on the top out of the stack. This man seemed humble and sweet, and his letter made you laugh in more than one spot as you read through it. Then you read it again. He sounded apologetic about responding to each individual kid, but you felt like your insides were melting. Who would do that? Who would take the time to give individual attention to a bunch of nine and ten year olds besides you? And you were technically getting paid to do it.

Bradley Bradshaw seemed willing to continue to engage with your kids, and you weren't going to stop him. Because starting that morning, he became something of a legend to your class. A celebrity. A real lieutenant in the Navy replied to all of their silly questions, and their love of aviation just grew from there. You figured you were going to have to keep your lesson plans going a bit longer while their faces lit up as you walked around the room and handed them each their notes. You had taken the time to skim them beforehand, often laughing at his sense of humor which seemed to jump off the pages.

"Can we write back to him?" Jayden asked as everyone read their notes from Lieutenant Bradshaw. "I have more questions."

You smiled and nodded. "Yes, you may write back to him." Then you postponed your geology lesson until the next day and let them spend the next forty minutes writing some followup letters. You took some pictures of them diligently toiling away at their desks, excitement on their faces. Then you bit your lip and sat down at your own desk.

As you started to construct an email letting him know the envelope had arrived, your thoughts drifted to what he might be like. Humble and sweet, for sure. But he also made it a point to tell you that the box from your class was the best piece of mail he'd ever received while deployed. Maybe he was a little bit lonely. Maybe he was single. Maybe he was stationed on the west coast. Your thoughts started to get ahead of you, and it was hard to reel them in when you imagined him excited to see another email from you. Smiling when he was handed another box from your class during mail call.

Dear Lt Bradley Bradshaw,

We got the envelope from you today, and my kids are absolutely thrilled! I'm not sure if you know how hard it can be to wrangle eighteen fourth graders all at one time, but they are currently sitting quietly and working on new letters for you to read. Once again, please don't feel obligated to continue correspondence if you're too busy. I'm sure you have other people you could be writing to who want your attention as well. I just wanted you to know they are overjoyed that a Naval officer took the time to answer their questions about aviation.

I have attached some photos as proof that they are sitting still. Thanks again for making their day.

You signed your name at the bottom the way you always would from your work email account, and then you attached the photos. After a brief debate about adding the selfie you took with Violet where most of your face was visible, you decided to just go for it. Adding it to the mix wouldn't hurt anything. It wasn't like this semi mystery man would be up all night thinking about you.

But you found that you were still thinking about him when you went home to your silent house and made dinner that evening. Maybe he was a little bit lonely, but maybe you were, too.

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

It was amazing how infrequently Bradley found himself thinking about Vanessa. He was busier now with his duties picking up a bit more as his deployment wore on, but even when he was tired and in his bunk at night, his thoughts seldom settled on her like he was afraid they might. He didn't miss her or her half-hearted emails, and he wasn't craving the connection of reunion sex with her.

Instead, he was thinking about what a group of fourth graders were learning about this week and what their cute teacher was up to. It had been a few days since you emailed him, letting him know that his package was delivered to your school. You made it sound like the kids were excited that he sent it in the first place, and when he really thought about it, he supposed some officers would have just eaten the snacks and tossed the notes in the trash.

He didn't reply to the email yet, still thrown off a bit by the pictures you attached. Your classroom was vibrant, and the kids were absorbed as they worked on more notes for him to read whenever they happened to be delivered to the carrier. But the photo with you in it held his attention longer than it should have. The fact that you were working at a school that was just a handful of miles from his damn house made him feel warm.

But what would he do about it? What could he do about it? Nothing. He didn't want you to think he was creepy. He still knew essentially nothing else about you. The only thing he could do was keep it friendly if not professional. Unless of course you did something to push the boundaries of conversation into a more personal realm. God, if you did....he didn't think he would be able to handle it.

The next day, when he was heading out on deck to talk to the mechanics who were doing regular maintenance on the aircrafts, he took his phone. "Hey, you mind if I take a few photos of some of the engine parts? I want to send them to a class of fourth graders who will think it's cool."

"Go ahead, Lieutenant," the head mechanic replied. Then he smiled and asked, "You dating a teacher?"

Well. Wouldn't that be something? Bradley would never run out of curious pen pals. He would always have some fourth graders to take interesting photos for and to send notes to. He'd always have a classroom to visit as soon as he got home from a deployment.

He couldn't help but picture you as the teacher.

"Nothing like that," he replied, his voice a little gravelly. "Just writing to some kids who are learning about aviation."

After dinner, when he had a chance to use an iPad in the lounge, he did his best to put together a response to your email that would at least hint at the curiosity he felt.

If all it takes is mail from three thousand miles away to get your class to sit quietly, then I should probably be writing to you every day. But I'm sure you're a great teacher. That's a given considering how much your students learned and shared with me. And I can assure you that I'm more than happy to take the time to write to your class. And you. Please don't think I feel obligated, because I do not. I want to.

I have attached a few pictures of some F/A-18 engine components as well as some of my cockpit controls. Each photo is labeled, but please let me know if you have any questions.

It was nice hearing from you.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

As soon as he hit send, he wanted to kick himself. Should he have included a photo of his face like you had twice now? Or did he already sound too desperate to hear from you and your class again?

"Shit," he muttered, looking around the lounge as if there was going to be someone here proficient in the art of getting to know a fourth grade teacher without sounding stupid. But it was too late now. All he could do was wait for the next mail call or hope you decided to write back to his ramblings by the next time he checked his email.

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

You were going to have to scrape your jaw off the floor. You had no idea what this man's face even looked like, but his hands were... something else. And his thighs... well, they were pretty great, too. It must have been too long since you got laid, because you were sitting at your desk in your classroom staring at the set of photos in your inbox, currently unable to look away from his right hand. It was wrapped around the throttle of his aircraft. It was elegant with attractive veins and rough calluses. You were sure that you were supposed to be focusing on the cockpit controls, but all you could see was that hand and his thick, muscular thighs below.

The next photo was no better for you. He was holding up his helmet with his call sign Rooster emblazoned across the front, and you were able to see his left ring finger. There was no wedding band. There was no evidence of an outline where a wedding band would belong. There was just his big, strong hand.

You whimpered softly while your students worked on their math tests. You couldn't help it as you took one last look before logging out of your email account. And now you needed to know if his face matched the very attractive image you had in your mind.

When Jayden called your name, you rocketed to your feet like you'd been caught red handed. "Yes?" you squeaked, your voice sounding higher pitched than usual.

"I'm done with my test. May I have the hall pass and use the restroom?"

You handed it to him as the rest of your class finished working through the math problems. A few minutes later, when you collected the papers from them, Violet asked, "When is Lieutenant Bradshaw going to write back to us?"

It had only been a few days since you mailed him the second box of notes and some more snacks, but it made you happy that they were all so invested in learning more from him.

"It will probably be a few weeks before we get anything in the mail. However... he did email me some pictures of engine and cockpit parts from the aircraft carrier for me to share with you guys." When you looked around the room, the kids were on the edges of their seats, excited expressions on their faces. With a laugh you added, "I was going to wait until tomorrow and use the projector to show them all to you, but if you're very well behaved for the rest of the afternoon, maybe I could pull them up on my computer for you to see them today."

Not two hours later, you were just as excited as the kids were to look at the photos... again. As they crowded around your desk, you opened up the first one of the cockpit to a barrage of questions.

"Is that really his jet?"

"Is that the throttle?"

"What do all the buttons do?"

"Was this right before he flew it?"

Once again you were distracted, but you managed to click over to the next photo, and the kids gasped in delight.

"His helmet is so cool!"

"It says Rooster!"

"That's his call sign!"

"Red is my favorite color!"

You just smiled softly and laughed. "Should we go ahead and start working on another list of questions for him?" you asked as you slowly scrolled through the rest of the pictures. "He said we can write back to him as much as we want to." When everyone cheered, you handed Oliver a marker and pointed to the board at the front of the classroom. "Let's start making a list."

You listened to all of your students call out questions for Bradley while Oliver wrote them down. Then Violet asked, "Can he send us a picture of his whole jet? From the outside of it?"

You cleared your throat and added, "Maybe he could get someone else to take the picture so he could stand in front of it. For size comparison."

Violet nodded, but you knew you were a fraud. Sure, it would be great for the kids to understand just how massive the F/A-18s were compared to an actual person, but you were the one who wanted to see all of Bradley. You were itching for it now.

Later that night, you drank most of a bottle of wine and did something you promised yourself you'd never do. You logged into your work email account after nine o'clock. You skipped over the handful of unread emails from parents and clicked on the icon to compose a new message. With your liquid courage goading you on, you typed up a response to Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw and hit send before you could think twice.

Thank you for the photos. They were very enlightening. We especially liked the ones where you were showing off your cockpit. Or I did, anyway. The kids liked all of them and started on another list of questions for you. Good luck getting rid of us now.

We were wondering if you could have someone take a picture of you standing in front of your jet. For size comparison purposes. And also because my students would like to know what you look like. Hearing from you makes our day even better.

You couldn't believe how forward you were being with this man who you'd never even met in person, but you fell asleep thinking about his hands and what they might be capable of.

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

This Bradley makes me swoon. I've never wanted to be a fourth grade teacher so badly in my life. There is something that's starting to blossom between them even though they haven't even met in person. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 3

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