#also apologies. trying to slowly get back into drawing

[jrob64]

Exacting His Revenge

- Chapter 3

I apologize for the long wait for this chapter. To reward you for your patience, I will give you another chapter after this one, for a total of 4. (You would have gotten it anyway because I am apparently just too wordy)

Happy birthday again to @kmomof4 and thank you again to @hookedmom for betaing this story.

Story Summary: When Hook sees an opportunity to finally get his revenge on Rumplestiltskin, he seizes it, putting him in the company of Emma Swan. A season 2 canon divergent story.

Rating: M (for eventual smut in chapter 4)

Words (Ch. 3): 6666

Posted on Tumlr - Chap. 1 Chap. 2 and also on ffn and Ao3

Story found under the cut

*********

As the ship got closer to Storybrooke, Hook noticed Emma frequently glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. When the lights of the town appeared on the horizon, he saw her draw in a deep breath, turn, and walk toward the steps leading to the helm. Slowly climbing them, she looked up and met his gaze.

“Is there something I can help you with, Love?” he asked.

“I was just wondering…what do you plan to do, now that you killed Gold?”

He chuckled lowly. “I’ve been wondering that myself.”

“Technically, you’re still under arrest. Now we’ll have to add escaping from jail to your charges.”

Hook reached up and scratched behind his ear. “Probably another assault charge, too.”

She widened her stance and crossed her arms. “What did you do?”

“I may have knocked your father unconscious with a pry bar.”

Rubbing her forehead in irritation, Emma sighed, “You’re a walking menace, you know that?”

“I couldn’t just sit in that concrete brig, while you were off by yourself with the bloody Dark One.”

Her eyes shot up. “You broke out of jail because you thought you had to save me?”

He dipped his head in a slight nod. “Aye.”

“Why?” she asked, disbelievingly.

“I knew what the crocodile was capable of doing. He would stop at nothing to get what he wanted. Even though he needed you to help him navigate his way to his son, you were disposable once you found him.”

“You think he would have killed me? Knowing I had a son waiting for me back in Storybrooke?”

“He killed Milah knowing she had a son. Why would you be any different?” He watched her mull over her question. When she didn’t say anything else, he asked, “Do you think Baelfire will stay in Storybrooke?”

She shrugged indifferently. “I don’t know.”

“Do you wish for him to stay?”

“I don’t, but if Henry does, I guess I’ll have to accept it. First, I have to figure out a way to tell Henry about him, though.”

“You haven’t told him about his father?”

Her face scrunched into a grimace, something that Hook found to be quite adorable. “I sort of lied to him about Neal. I told him his dad was a firefighter who died saving people from a burning building.”

“Why did you do that?”

“Because I didn’t think there was a chance in hell I would ever see Neal again. And also because I didn’t want my kid to know his father was a lying thief who abandoned me.”

Hook glanced at Bae, still sitting beside his father’s body. He was glowering at them and Hook wondered if he had heard what Emma said, or was simply angry seeing Emma talking to him.

“The lad seems to be quite adaptable. I’m sure once he hears the whole story, he’ll understand.”

“I hope so,” Emma sighed. “The thing is, it’s already complicated enough trying to juggle his time between me and Regina. If Neal is added to the mix, I’ll get to see Henry even less.”

“He does have a right to see the boy, though, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah. It’s not like Neal abandoned him, too. He didn’t know I was pregnant when he took off.”

“You don’t think that the two of you, for the boy’s sake…”

“Not a chance!” Emma snapped. “Look, a lot has changed since Neal and I were together. I’ve matured and I’m assuming he has, too. But the only feelings I have for him are…well, they aren’t anything close to love, let’s put it that way.”

Hook nodded, trying to keep the happiness he felt about her declaration from showing on his face.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you all of this,” she said. “I guess I just needed to blow off some steam, and you happened to be available.”

“I’m very happy to oblige, Swan,” Hook assured her.

Emma shifted her gaze forward and saw they were rapidly approaching Storybrooke. “If you want to sail away once we get Gold’s body off the ship, I won’t stop you,” she said conspiratorially.

“Why, Sheriff, do you intend to set your prisoner free?” he asked, a teasing lilt to his voice.

“I’m just saying that since you don’t have any reason to stay in Storybrooke…”

“Ah, but I do have a reason, Love.”

Emma’s brow furrowed. “You do?”

“You promised to join me for dinner, remember?”

Her mouth dropped open. “Are you telling me you would give up your chance at freedom just to keep our deal?”

“A gentleman keeps his word, and as I told you atop the beanstalk, I’m always a gentleman.”

“You know I’ll have to lock you up as soon as you step foot off this ship.”

“And you know I won’t stay in that cell.”

“Seriously?”

“Pirate,” he said smugly.

“Are you going to dock the ship, Hook, or are you two going to keep making eyes at each other and let it crash into the pier?” Baelfire asked, his tone venomous.

“We don’t make eyes,” Emma said, rolling hers.

“Coulda fooled me,” he grumbled.

Hook began giving directions to the two of them, as he guided the ship into a berth. Emma was quick to follow, but Bae purposely lagged, earning him some sharp words from the captain.

Once the ship was tied off, Emma pulled out her phone. “I’m calling my dad. Hopefully, he can arrange transportation for Gold’s body as quietly as possible. I don’t want Belle to find out about his death until I get a chance to tell her.”

Hook and Bae stood on either side of her as she spoke to her father. When she ended the call, she looked from one to the other. “Are you going with me to talk to Belle?” she asked Neal.

“I thought you were going to take me to meet our son.”

“Not tonight. It’s late and he’ll be in bed.”

“But I…”

Emma angrily planted her hands on her hips. “Neal, if you want to meet him, you’re playing by my rules, got it?”

He stared at her for a few moments before dropping his eyes. “Fine. I’ll come with you to talk to Belle and wait until tomorrow to meet Henry.”

Pivoting to face Hook, she said, “You can stay on your ship tonight. If you’re still here tomorrow, I’ll deal with you then.”

“I look forward to it, Love,” he smirked.

If the look Baelfire gave him could kill, there would have been another body joining Gold’s on the deck.

*********

Hook lay in his bunk, staring at the ceiling of his cabin and replaying the events of the day. It should have been the most satisfying day in his long life. Milah’s murderer was finally dead and the darkness was permanently dispelled. Milah was avenged, her soul could rest. For the first time in hundreds of years, he should be able to sleep peacefully.

Then why was he so restless?

Oddly enough, the stabbing of Rumplestiltskin and his subsequent death weren’t foremost in his thoughts. It was his interactions with Emma Swan - every word, gesture and facial expression - which were keeping him awake. She was under his skin and he didn’t know what to do about it.

He felt guilty about the direction of his thoughts. Ever since that most horrible of days, he mourned his Milah and promised anew that he would love her until the day he finally died. Sometimes he sought female companionship, but it was only ever for a single night, never with the same woman twice, and never on his ship. He didn’t want to besmirch the love he and Milah had for one another by bringing another into their bed. Now, he was lying here, his mind filled with images of a lass whom he longed to know better and whose heart he had decided to win.

“I’m sorry, Milah,” he whispered into the darkness.

Knowing sleep was going to continue to elude him, he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Grabbing his flask off of the nightstand, he took a healthy swig and savored the familiar burn down his throat. Then he got up and lit the lantern on his desk. If he couldn’t sleep, he might as well read.

He gave up after ten minutes. Sighing, he slammed the book closed, then donned his leather duster and ascended the ladder. He walked the decks of the Jolly Roger, rubbing non-existent smudges from her highly polished railings, double checking that her sails were folded correctly, and trying to convince himself that she was the only love he needed in his life.

The problem was, his heart wasn’t listening to logic.

Sleep didn’t come until an hour before daybreak. Thankfully, he didn’t enter REM sleep, so he wasn’t able to determine which woman would appear to him in his dreams.

*********

It was almost noon when Emma made it back to his ship. “Still here, I see,” she called up to him from where she stood on the pier.

“I assured you I wasn’t going to leave.”

She eyed him critically. “Are you alright? You look like hell.”

“Why, thank you very much, Swan. How kind of you to notice.”

“I thought you would be the happiest person on Earth, now that you’ve finally gotten your revenge.”

He shrugged. “Perhaps the day was too stimulating to allow me to sleep well.” Seeing her about to speak again, he cut in. “Where is Baelfire this morning?”

Emma closed her eyes and shook her head disgustedly. “I already regret bringing him here. He’s driving me crazy, asking to meet Henry.”

“You haven’t introduced the two of them yet, I take it?”

“No. Henry was at Regina’s last night and was off to school before I woke up this morning. Neal thinks I should pull him out of school. I keep telling him I want the chance to talk to Henry first, but he’s really pushing it. I managed to sneak away from him while he and Belle were making arrangements to bury Gold.”

While she was talking, Hook was making his way down the gangplank to stand in front of her. “I have no doubt you will stand your ground against him, Love.”

“I know. It’s just…things were good between me and Henry since Mary Margaret and I got back to Storybrooke. Now I have to tell him I lied to him and I’m afraid he’s going to hate me.”

Hook’s mind flashed to Baelfire’s reaction when he discovered the drawing of Milah in the captain’s quarters. His words were full of hatred and betrayal. To this day, he hadn’t forgiven him. Hook certainly hoped Henry wouldn’t react the same way.

Hoping to divert Emma’s worries, he asked, “How did Belle take the news last night?”

“Just as you would expect; she’s devastated. She was relieved to know that Gold found his son before he died. We didn’t tell her Neal was furious with his father for killing his mother and refused to forgive him. I’m assuming Belle didn’t know Gold’s role in Milah’s death.”

“Do you think if she did, she would have ever become involved with the bloody demon?”

“No, probably not. Belle tries to find the best in everyone, but hearing that bit of news might have been too much for even her.”

“You told her the, uh, the circumstances of his death?”

“Yeah. Let’s just say you’re definitely not her favorite person. She’s still recovering from the gunshot wound you gave her and now you killed her boyfriend.”

Hook grimaced. Thinking of the Dark One as someone’s ‘boyfriend’ turned his stomach. Not wanting to think about Rumplestiltskin anymore, he changed the subject. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit this morning, Swan?”

“I have to take you back to jail. Everyone in town knows you’ve returned. Letting you go free after you shot someone isn’t going to sit well with them.”

“Even though I rid your fair town and the world of the Dark One’s power?”

“The people in town don’t know that yet. Belle isn’t planning to tell them until after Gold is buried. I’m sure the news will leak out soon. Until then, I don’t want Leroy running around town yelling, ‘Killer on the loose! Killer on the loose!’”

Reaching around behind her back, she extracted handcuffs and held them up between them.

“Again?” Hook sighed. “You’re really into this, aren’t you?”

“Standard procedure,” she explained. “Hand and hook behind your back.”

With a dramatic display of reluctance, he did as told. They walked down the pier and onto the beach, then over to the squad car in a moment of deja vu.

On the way to the sheriff’s station, Hook asked, “How is your father, Swan?”

“He has a headache and a good sized lump on his head, but he’ll be fine. You’re not his favorite person, either. In fact, you don’t have many people on your side in this town, which is why I figured you would take the opportunity to leave when I offered it to you.”

“There’s only one person I wish to have on my side, Love. I couldn’t care less about anyone else.”

She glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “You’re really adamant about having that dinner with me, aren’t you?”

“I would never have allowed the bloody crocodile aboard my ship if you hadn’t agreed to that. I fully intend to collect what is owed to me.”

“You might have to settle for Granny’s takeout in your cell, while I eat at my desk.”

“I believe the deal was dinner on my ship.”

“Yeah, well, you might be locked up for quite a while, depending on what Regina says.”

“What does Regina have to do with it?”

Emma pulled up to the station, put the car in park and turned it off. Twisting in her seat, she said, “We don’t have a court system in Storybrooke, so the mayor decides on punishment for crimes. That’s the way she set it up during the curse and we never changed it. Considering the fact you killed her mother, I doubt Regina will be lenient toward you.”

“Regina and I had…an understanding before the curse was cast. I’m sure she will consider that.”

“What sort of understanding?” Emma asked.

Hook leaned forward, putting his face close to the divider between the front and back seat. “Let’s just say we also had a deal. It took a while, but I finally kept my end of it.”

Emma’s eyes widened. “You made a deal with Regina to kill her mother?”

“The two of them never had what you might call a close mother-daughter relationship.”

“Just when I thought I heard it all,” Emma mumbled, unbuckling her seat belt and opening the car door.

After releasing him from the back seat, she walked him into the station, her hand gripping his elbow. Upon entering the main area, David rose from the desk, strode across the room and punched Hook in the face.

“Dad!” Emma yelled.

“That’s for the last time we met,” David said, shaking his hand slightly.

Hook licked his bloodied lip before replying, “I thought you might be a bit more genial, considering I brought your daughter home safely.”

“You knocked all the genial out of me when you hit me with that crowbar.”

Emma led Hook across the room, removed the cuffs, unlocked the cell and gestured for him to enter. Dabbing at his lip, he walked in, winking at her as he passed. It might have been his imagination, but he thought he detected the hint of a smile on her face.

She slammed the door closed, then turned as an afterthought. “I almost forgot. Give me your hook.”

“If you want to hold something, Love, I have a perfectly good hand,” he offered slyly, holding up his hand and wiggling his fingers.

She huffed, but he saw the corners of her mouth turn up again. “Just hand over the hook, funny guy.” As he twisted the hook out of the brace, she added, “And while you’re at it, give me whatever you used to pick the lock last time.”

“I thought you didn’t care if I escaped and sailed away, Swan.”

“You said you wouldn’t leave until I kept my part of the bargain.”

“Ah, yes, our dinner together,” he said, glancing toward David as he said it. His reaction to Hook’s statement didn’t disappoint.

“Your what?” he shouted.

“Calm down, Dad,” Emma said, rolling her eyes. “I had to make a deal with him so he would agree to bring Gold back to Storybrooke. It’s just dinner.”

“On my ship,” Hook contributed.

“On his ship?!”

Emma threw Hook a frustrated glare, before turning to her father. “I’ll say it again - it’s just dinner. And it’s probably not going to happen anytime soon. Regina will have to decide what to do with him. In fact, I need to go to her office to bring her up to speed.”

David checked his watch. “I’m supposed to be over at the cemetery in ten minutes to guard against anyone going in while they’re burying Gold.”

Emma sighed. “We probably shouldn’t leave Hook alone. Can you get Leroy to come over and keep an eye on him again?”

“Is that really necessary?” Hook asked.

David narrowed his eyes at Hook for several seconds before picking up the phone.

Turning back to Hook, Emma stated, “Guess that answers your question. Now, hand it over.”

With a dramatic sigh, he passed his hook through the bars into her waiting hand. She accepted it, then held up her other hand. He threw her his most charming smile, but she just tilted her head and speared him with another meaningful glare. Reluctantly, he reached into his pocket and removed the long hairpin.

As she accepted it, she asked, “Why do you have this thing, anyway?”

“As you can imagine, managing all of these buttons one-handed is quite difficult, so I use that to help pull them through the buttonholes.”

“I think you missed a few,” she murmured.

“Ah, so you’ve noticed,” he cheeked.

She turned away, but not before Hook saw the blush that colored her cheeks. With a satisfied smirk, he crossed the cell and took a seat on the cot.

David left before Leroy arrived, giving Hook some time alone with Emma. “Do you have a preference of what to eat for our dinner together, Swan?”

“You’re awfully presumptuous, thinking you’ll be out of jail anytime soon.”

“I did Regina a favor by killing Rumplestiltskin. I have a feeling she’s going to take that into consideration when she decides my fate.”

“People in town love and respect Belle. They won’t be happy if you get off scot-free for shooting her.”

Hook scuffed his boots back and forth on the floor. “I do feel bad for shooting the lass. I’m glad I only wounded her.”

“At least you’re remorseful,” Emma remarked.

Before Hook could respond, Leroy burst into the office. “I’m here, Sister,” he blustered. Walking straight up to the bars of the cell, he spouted, “No funny business. I’m watching you, Pirate.”

Hook stood and sauntered over to stand in front of him, “Yes, Dwarf. That should deter me from any malfeasance.”

“I don’t know how long I’ll be gone,” Emma said.

Leroy and Hook continued glaring at each other for several seconds, until Leroy broke eye contact to say, “Charming didn’t tell me why he isn’t able to be here. Is he out on a call?”

Emma and Hook exchanged a quick look. “Um, yeah. Something like that,” Emma mumbled vaguely.

“Well, as long as one of you is back by dinner time. Granny will run out of bacon for my burger if I get there too late.”

“It looks like you could afford to forgo dinner now and then,” Hook muttered.

“Behave yourself, Hook,” Emma cut in before Leroy got a chance to respond.

After she left, Leroy sat down and began swiveling in the chair, keeping an eye on Hook. “So, I’m assuming you followed Sheriff Swan to New York after you knocked out her father?”

“You must be the smart dwarf,” Hook said, resuming his spot on the cot.

“Then how are the two of you back, but there’s no sign of Gold? Did you leave him in New York?”

“I have no idea of the Dark One’s location.” He wasn’t technically lying. The darkness dissipated, but he didn’t know where it went.

Leroy crossed his arms over his chest. “You expect me to believe that?”

Hook shrugged. “It makes me no difference what you believe. I went to New York to ensure Swan’s safety and as you can see, I accomplished that objective.”

Leroy leaned forward, narrowing his eyes. “Are you sweet on the sheriff?”

Hook very deliberately laid down and turned toward the wall, his back facing the dwarf.

“Because if you are, you’re never going to get her,” Leroy continued. “Her parents and most of the town won’t allow it. She’s too good for the likes of you, Pirate.”

Hook closed his eyes, trying to go to sleep so he wouldn’t have to listen to the grumpy man any longer. It didn’t work. Even though Leroy stopped talking, the last words he said kept replaying themselves over and over in Hook’s mind.

She’s too good for the likes of you, Pirate.

*********

Word of Gold’s death did indeed leak out, and soon the entire town was aware that they were free of the Dark One forever. Besides expressing their condolences to Belle, they didn’t show any signs of sadness over his loss.

Neal was greeted with trepidation. Granny reluctantly offered him a room at the boarding house and reassured the townspeople that she would keep an eye on him. If he showed any inkling of being like his father, she wouldn’t hesitate to use her crossbow.

Regina stopped in at the sheriff’s station the day after the ship arrived back from New York. After telling David she needed to speak to Hook privately, she stepped in front of his cell and glared at him through the bars.

“Your Majesty,” he drawled. “Or should I say ‘Madam Mayor’?”

“Is it true you’re responsible for my mother’s death, Hook?”

“Where did you hear that?”

“Word gets around. Now answer the question.”

“Aye, Love. I finally carried out your noble request.”

“Once the curse was cast, the request was null and void.”

“I wasn’t made aware of any alteration in plans or any changes in your feelings toward your mother. Just because I didn’t do it when you initially sent me to do so, the result is still the same. Now don’t try to tell me you grieve her passing, or that you would have welcomed her to Storybrooke with open arms.”

Regina’s mouth tightened into a straight line before she answered, “You know I didn’t want her here.”

He gave a slight nod. “That’s correct, so I did you a favor. And another by killing Gold. I’d say you owe me, Your Majesty.”

“I suppose you think I should give you some huge reward,” she growled. “What’s your price, Hook?”

He rose from the cot and slowly moved to stand in front of her. “My freedom will do nicely.”

Regina’s perfectly groomed eyebrows raised in surprise. “That’s all you want? That doesn’t sound like the greedy pirate I know.”

He shrugged nonchalantly. “My life’s goal has been met. I have enough doubloons to last me for another three hundred years. What more could I possibly need?”

She crossed her arms and studied him. “If I grant your freedom, I assume you will leave town.”

“Never assume anything.”

“Why would you stay?”

Hook studied his fingernails. “I don’t believe my plans are any of your business.”

“I’m the mayor of Storybrooke. Everything is my business.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You might control your townspeople, but…”

“I brought lunch, Hook.” He looked over Regina’s shoulder to see Emma coming into the room, holding a brown paper bag aloft.

Regina heaved an exaggerated sigh and turned to look over her shoulder. “Didn’t your idiot father tell you I wanted to speak to Hook without being interrupted?”

“I haven’t seen David,” Emma replied coolly. “I’ve been out on patrol all morning. I’m happy to report no one is breaking any laws.”

“No one except him,” Regina said, jerking her head towards Hook.

Emma set the bag of food on the desk. “Well, he’s locked up, so I don’t think we’ll have to worry about him.”

“Apparently he broke out once before and he’s a pirate. Locking him up doesn’t guarantee he won’t break out.”

“He doesn’t have any reason to break out this time, do you, Hook?”

“Alas, no. All of my objectives have been met.”

“I still don’t trust him,” Regina said.

“You needn’t worry, Madam Mayor. Your sheriff is quite efficient,” Hook said. “She particularly enjoys using her handcuffs on me, don’t you Swan?”

He was satisfied to see her cheeks turn pink. She changed the subject by asking, “Have you decided on his punishment yet?”

“Perhaps she’ll sentence me to house arrest with you. Do you have a spare bed? If not, I’m willing to share.”

Regina looked back and forth between them, her mouth set in a firm line. “Miss Swan, if you don’t mind, I haven't finished speaking with your boyfriend.”

Hook suppressed a chuckle, as Emma’s mouth dropped open. “My boyfriend? Hook? What’s your problem, Regina?”

“My problem,” Regina spat, “is that you’re impeding my job.”

“Fine,” Emma shot back. “I’ll be in the other room, eating lunch. When you finally finish your job, let me know.” Picking up the sack, she turned on her heel and went into the small inner office, slamming the door behind her.

Seeing her stand up to Regina filled Hook with pride and more than a little desire. Emma Swan was fiery and fierce, just the way he liked his women.

With effort, he turned his attention back to Regina. She was drumming the manicured fingernails of her right hand on her left bicep. “I’m willing to bet one of your reasons for remaining in Storybrooke involves Miss Swan.”

“I would have never guessed you were one for gambling, Your Majesty.”

She glared at him as Hook stared back at her unflinchingly, plastering a bored look on his face. After nearly a minute, she called loudly, “Sheriff Swan, come out here!”

Emma emerged, chewing and rubbing her hands on her jeans. “You bellowed?”

“I do not bellow,” Regina remarked snarkily. “I’ve come to a decision about this prisoner. He needs to be punished for the attempt he made on Ms. French’s life. Therefore, I sentence him to one month in jail. By that time, maybe he’ll be ready to board his ship, sail away and be some other realm’s problem.”

With that, she spun around and walked out the door, heels clicking on the cement floor.

Emma watched her go, then turned to face Hook. “Looks like you’re going to be our guest for a while longer.”

“Aye, but at least my jailer is a welcome sight to behold.”

“You told me you won’t stay in this cell. Do I need to make sure someone is here to watch you around the clock? Because I’ll be damned if I’m going to chase you down every other day.”

“As tempting as it is to have you running after me, I give you my word as a gentleman that I will not escape.”

She narrowed her eyes as she studied him to detect any trace of deceit. Finding none, she said, “Don’t make me regret trusting you, Hook.”

He wrapped his hand around the bars of the cell. “You’re going to take my advice and try something new, eh Swan?”

Hooking her thumbs in the back pockets of her jeans, she shrugged. “You went all the way to New York to make sure I was safe, and didn’t leave when I gave you the chance. I guess you’ve earned my trust.”

Hood couldn’t keep the grin off of his face. The fact that she trusted him was definitely a step in the right direction toward winning her heart. He reached through the bars and twisted a lock of her hair around his finger, enjoying the silky feel of it against his calloused skin. “I’m very happy to hear that, Love.”

She was just opening her mouth to reply, when Baelfire entered the room. Hook’s eyes shifted to the other man, causing Emma to look over her shoulder. As soon as she saw Neal, she stiffened.

Bae stopped short when he saw how close the couple was standing. Then he saw that Hook had a lock of Emma’s hair wrapped around his finger and his face turned crimson.

“What’s going on here, Ems?” he blustered.

“Nothing,” she answered tightly.

“Doesn’t look that way to me. Looks like the fucking pirate is trying to seduce you, just like he did my mother.”

“Give it a rest, Neal. He’s behind bars and that’s where he has to stay for a month.”

“A month?” he shouted. “That’s all he gets for killing my father?”

“Actually,” Hook began, “that sentence is for shooting Belle French. Regina felt I did the town a favor by ridding it of the Dark One.”

“What the fuck? You’re just going to get away with murder?” Neal raged.

“Oh, come on, Neal,” Emma groaned. “You’re the one who said to just let your dad die. Now you want to act like the grieving son? I don’t buy it.”

He walked over to stand in front of the cell, looking back and forth between Hook and Emma. Hook untangled his finger from her hair and pulled his hand back. As much as he wanted to smirk at the angry man, he decided it was best not to add fuel to the fire. He didn’t want to put Emma in an even more uncomfortable position.

Bae turned his back toward Hook and tried to step between Emma and the bars. “Isn't it about time for Henry to come home from school, Ems?”

She heaved a sigh and turned to look at the clock on the wall. “School lets out in half-an-hour. Once my dad gets back to the station, I’ll leave to go pick Henry up.”

“Cool. I’ll come with you.”

Emma folded her arms over her chest and fixed him with a fierce scowl. Hook was quite happy not to be on the receiving end of it. “No, you will not. I’ve already told you that I need to talk to Henry first. I want to prepare him to meet you.”

“What’s there to prepare? You just say, ‘Henry, this is your father.’ What’s so hard about that?”

“For fuck’s sake, Neal! He thinks his father is dead!”

“Why the hell would he think that?” Neal yelled.

“Because that’s what I told him! I said you were a firefighter who died as a hero…”

Neal leaned forward until his face was mere inches away from hers. “What the fuck, Emma? Why would you do something so idiotic?”

Emma didn’t back away from him as she spoke through gritted teeth. “Would you rather I told him that his dad was a thief and a liar who abandoned me and let me go to jail for a crime he committed?”

When Hook saw Neal grasp Emma’s arms, he had enough. “Let go of her, Bae!” he demanded, reaching through the bars to grab the other man’s jacket.

“Stay out of this, Hook!” Baelfire shouted, jerking away from Hook’s grip, letting go of Emma at the same time. “She’s not yours to protect!”

“She’s not yours, either!” Hook shot back.

“That’s enough!” Emma exclaimed. “Neal, you need to leave. After I’ve had a chance to talk to Henry, I’ll call you. That is, if he wants to meet you today. If he needs more time to process everything, that’s what he’ll get. And you will agree to it, or you won’t meet him at all. Is that clear?”

“I came all this way and he’s my son. You can’t keep me from seeing him.”

“I can and I will if you don’t back off. Go back to your room at the boarding house and wait for me to call.”

Hook watched carefully to see what Baelfire would do next. If he continued to defy and bully Emma, Hook would find some way to get out of the cell and go to her aid.

After several more moments of glowering at Emma, Bae finally stomped out of the office, nearly running into David, who was on his way in.

“What’s wrong with him?” he asked.

“He’s demanding to see Henry and I’m making him wait. I need to talk to Henry first.”

David took off his jacket and hung it over the back of a chair. “I can understand his impatience. He just found out he has a son; it’s only natural to be anxious to meet him.”

“You’re taking his side?” Emma asked.

“I didn’t realize you two are on opposite sides. I thought you were, um…”

Emma’s eyes widened. “Do you think we’re together?”

“Well, you do have a child together and you just found each other again after so many years.”

She put her hands on her hips. “If I had my way, I would have never seen him again.”

David’s jaw dropped. “But Mary Margaret and I thought the two of you…”

“Well, you thought wrong!” she spouted, then angrily grabbed her keys and pushed past him.

He stood rooted to the spot, staring at the door through which she just disappeared. Almost to himself, he murmured, “I’m so confused. Why wouldn’t she want to…”

“Be with Baelfire?” Hook interrupted. “Have you ever asked your daughter about the father of her child?”

David turned around, the look on his face making it clear the answer to Hook’s question was ‘no’. Instead, he said, “That’s none of your business.”

“Perhaps not, but Emma did share with me what happened between them, and let’s just say she has good reason not to want to be with him.”

“Why would she tell you and not her mother and I?”

Hook shrugged. “I think she felt a bit…trapped by the whole situation of him coming to Storybrooke and she wanted to share her side of the story with someone. I just happened to be available.”

“Did he hurt her?”

“Not physically, but that’s all I’m going to say. It’s not my story to tell.”

David eyed him critically for several seconds, then stepped closer to the cell. “Let me give you a bit of advice, Hook. She’s never gonna like you.”

“Is that so?”

“Well, how could she? You’re nothing but a pirate.” With those words, he spun on his heel and walked away.

The cocky smirk on Hook’s face faded as he watched David go. For the second time in two days, he had been told that Emma Swan would never be with him because he wasn’t good enough for her. The one consolation he had was that neither time, it was Emma who said it. He would have to cling to the hope that she didn’t feel the same way.

*********

Hook didn’t expect to see Emma any more that day, so when she came into the station soon after he finished eating the meal Granny provided, he was pleasantly surprised. However, seeing the agitated state she was in, his pleasure soon turned to concern.

“I thought I was finishing out this shift,” David said.

“I know, but I figured you would want to spend the evening with Mary Margaret, and since Henry is staying at Regina’s…”

“What? Why is he doing that? I thought you were introducing him to Neal.”

“Yeah, well, let’s just say things didn’t go as planned,” she said sadly.

“Emma, if you need to…”

“Look, Dad,” she sighed, “I really don’t want to talk about it right now. I’ll be home in a couple of hours, okay? Maybe by then, I’ll be ready to tell you what happened.”

Hook thought David was going to argue with her, but after a few moments, he blew out a heavy sigh and said, “Okay. I’ll see you at home. Be careful.” After kissing her forehead, he gave Hook a warning look, then left.

Emma dropped into a chair, threw her head back and groaned.

“Alright there, Swan?” Hook asked.

She was motionless for so long, he thought she wasn’t going to answer. Finally, she sat up and put her head in her hands. “Not really. Henry is very pissed at me for lying to him. He had no interest in meeting Neal and insisted on going to Regina’s because he doesn’t want to be around me. Then when I called Neal, he went off on me, saying it was all my fault his son refused to meet him.”

“I’m sorry, Love.”

She didn’t reply. He felt helpless seeing her sitting there, looking so defeated.

When she finally stood up, she paced back and forth in front of his cell. “Why did I ever think I could do this? I know nothing about being a mom. I probably screwed him up for life. First I gave him away, then I lied to him about his father…”

“Emma, stop,” Hook said firmly.

She stood still, looking at him with tear-filled eyes. “It’s true.”

“No, it’s not. It sounds to me like you made a very courageous decision by giving him up for adoption. Bae abandoned you and left you with very little choice. As far as telling him Baelfire was dead, you had no idea Henry would have a chance to meet him someday. You wanted to spare him the pain of knowing his father was a bloody coward, just like his own father before him. In my opinion, there was nothing wrong with telling Henry he was a hero. It was far kinder than the truth.”

“He was so angry,” she whispered hoarsely. “He may never forgive me.”

Hook’s heart ached for her. “Come here, Love,” he said softly, stretching his hand out through the bars.

She shook her head, wiping at her eyes. “It’s okay. I’m fine.”

“Emma, look at me,” he coaxed.

Slowly, she raised her eyes. Even more slowly, she reached forward to place her hand in his. He gave a little tug to pull her closer. When she was near enough, he attempted to put his arms around her, frustrated that the cell bars were between them.

“This is stupid,” she said, turning her back and walking away. He almost groaned in frustration, until he realized she was pulling a set of keys out of the desk drawer. She approached the cell again, hesitating briefly before unlocking the door. After swinging it open, she stood uncertainly, shifting from foot to foot.

Hook stepped through the doorway and into her space. Locking eyes with her, he silently asked permission and upon receiving it, gently pulled her into his arms.

At first, her body was stiff and unyielding, but as he rubbed his hand and wrist up and down her back, she gradually relaxed and let him comfort her. “You’re a good mother, Emma. Henry knows that, and he will forgive you.”

“How can you be so sure?” she mumbled into his chest.

“Because I know first-hand how hard it is to stay away from you.” He heard her scoff lightly, but she didn’t say anything. He didn’t know how long she let him hold her, but he relished every second.

Finally pulling away from him, she said, “Thank you, Hook.”

Using his finger to lift her chin, he looked into her beautiful jade eyes and requested, “Will you please call me Killian, Love?”

She blinked, then gave him a small smile. “Okay…Killian.”

*********

Thank you for reading! The final chapter is probably about half written, so hopefully it won't be as long a wait for it.

Tagging:

@qualitycoffeethings @grimmswan @cs-rylie @wyntereyez @kmomof4

@hookedmom @ultraluckycatnd @paradiselady19 @xarandomdreamx @motherkatereloyshipper

@lfh1226-linda @pawshapedheart @vampcoffeegyrl23 @tiganasummertree @bluewildcatfanatic

@eleveneitherway @elfiola @kday426 @julieenchanted-swans @gingerchangeling

@andiirivera @djlbg @jonesfandomfanatic @snowbellewells @anmylica

@booksteaandtoomuchtv @cocohook38 @ilovemesomekillianjones @zaharadessert @lyssapup27

@undercaffinatednightmare @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @xsajx @jackieorioncat

@teamhook @soniccat @jarienn972 @softkilly @kymbersmith-90

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@whimsicallyenchantedrose @earanemith @superchocovian @idristardis @captainswan-kellie

@beckettj @killihan-jones

[tunapesto]

figuring out what she looks like

[thinkinonsense]

Sit Still｡𖦹°‧

—gif credit: not mine!! i can't remember where i found it but if i can find it again or the owner comments, ill add their username <3

logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: cockwarming (sorta?), innocence kink, p in v, logan attempts to teach reader how to ride.

a/n: apologies for this being so short but chapter two of bewitched should be out friday or saturday! also i'll be responding to some requests soon too in case i spam lmao

"a-are you sure 'bout this, lo?"

your timid voice echos around the bedroom, capturing logan's attention again. he's been dreaming for months of this sight in front of him; you sitting pretty in his lap, only wearing a pink lacy bra and a pair of matching panties.

"you want me to make you feel good, right sweetheart?"

a small sigh escapes you as you attempt to grind onto him again. logan places his large hands on your waist to stop you from wiggling around. he knows you can't help it, you're still new to this after all.

it started a month ago when you and logan were left alone together in the mansion. everyone was on a field trip a couple hours away. you were recovering from a cold and logan simply didn't want to chaperone. instead, he offered to stay back with you.

late one evening, he came in to check on you and ask if there was anything you needed. that's when you asked him the question that nearly killed him, 'will you take my virginity?' you didn't see a problem with it. the two of you weren't strangers, you trusted logan, and he obviously has experience since he's much older than you.

ever since that night, you two have been going at it like rabbits. tonight, logan promised to help you get used to being on top. more importantly, training you to take him from this angle.

"c'mon, baby..." he coos with one hand on your hip and the other holding a cigar to his lips. "do it just like i told ya'."

swiftly, logan removes the rest of the material between the two of you before resting back against the mattress. anxiously, you line him up to your entrance and slowly sink down until you're sat fully on his lap again.

"nice 'n slow for me, sweetheart. that's it, stay still..." logan hums, lost in your tight, wet heat. he can hear every little noise coming from your lips. "atta girl."

it's a struggle to take all of him at once. you can feel him deep in your gut, nudging that sweet spot inside of you. logan can tell that your nerves are still tangled in knots, practically strangling his cock.

"lo, i c-can't do it." you huff, upset at yourself. "too full to move."

"poor fuckin' baby." logan teases with faux sympathy. "how 'bout we try something else for now?"

too caught up with the soft grind of his hips, you nod your head mindlessly to his proposal. logan brings his thumb to his lips, replacing the cigar which is now back on the nightstand. he sits up, making you whimper as he does so. you lean forward to capture his lips with your own, whispering how badly you needed him to just fuck you himself. instead, logan's got something else in mind.

"ah!" you gasp as he starts to rub your button with the wet pad of thumb. "f-fuck, right there..."

the soft rocking of your hips makes your toes curl and fingers pull at his little kitten tuffs. logan's mouth moves south to your chest. one nipple in his mouth then the other until both are swollen and kiss bitten. vibrations pour from his mouth as he groans at the tight squeezing of your cunt around his girth.

"ah-ah." he tsks, hand coming up to grip your jaw, pinching your cheeks together gently. "what did i say 'bout staying still?"

"s-sorry, lo.." you whimper voice muffled by your squished pouty lips.

despite having incredible stamina, logan was ready to release just from looking at your pretty face. he never been this close to cumming so soon but feeling you tense around him and wiggle in his lap made his head spin. all of this movement from only his thumb drawing circles.

"christ..." he grunts in your ear, moving faster now and with more pressure. "you're tryin' a kill me, sweetheart."

all logan gets in response is incoherent babbles of 'don't stop' and 'please, please, please'. he knows you are close when you claw at his back and start to bounce on him little by little, just enough to make you see stars. it all feels too much yet not enough at the same time. logan's circles start to get sloppy as he approaches his high too.

"l-logan!" you squeal, heavy eyes trying to focus on his face. "wanna feel you..."

in a rush, logan picks up the pace, torturing your button with his thumb. a loud moan falls from your lips, trying to wiggle out of logan's grip as your orgasm washes over you with intense euphoria. logan growls in your neck from your tight fucking grip on his cock, pumping his load inside of your walls. some of it spilling out of you and drenching the sheets.

the two of you catch your breath in silence for a moment. your nails scratch his scalp softly while logan pulls you down to kiss him. after a second, you move back, smiling down at him in a way that makes him harden again.

"thought you were gonna show me how to ride?" you tease.

logan shoots you a cocky eyebrow raise before leaning back again, one hand on your hip and the other returning to his cigar on the night stand.

"alright, baby..." he chuckles, re-lighting the cigar and paying little attention to the roll of your hips. "let me see what you got."

[plussizefantasia]

Don't Cry Over Spilled Lemonade

Anthony Bridgerton x f!reader

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: None that I can think of, this is kinda angsty tho

A/N: Surprise post IG I wrote this in my notes app because I couldn't sleep so if there are spelling or grammar issues I'm sorry. let me know if you want a part two because I wouldn't mind continuing this.

Anthony adored how close you were to his siblings. You had become a close family friend ever since you defended Daphne against some creep at her first-ever ball out in society, it was your second season and you had taken it upon yourself to keep an eye on the diamond, looking out for her quietly in the background.

You weren’t going to intervene at all, just offer her some advice woman to woman if the need arose but when you saw Baron Taylor grab the redhead by the wrist you couldn’t hold back.

Anthony himself was only seconds away from coming to his sister's aid when you ‘accidently’ tripped into the man spilling your glass of lemonade down the front of his vest. 

“Perhaps my Lord if we kept our hands to ourselves certain… interventions might’ve not had to happen. Don’t you think?” When Anthony had seen your raised eyebrow and defensive posture all aimed at the scumbag who dared lay a hand on his baby sister he couldn’t help but fall a little bit in love right then and there. Not that he’d ever admit it to himself or anyone else for that matter.

A day later Daphne had invited you to tea at their family house in order to thank you for the rescue and potentially make a new friend and ally within the marriage mart.

Ever since that day, you’d been a regular in his home, but you were never there for him as much as he’d have liked you to be. No, you were always there for one of his siblings. You were there to talk with Daphne, first about her counting of the duke and then slowly transitioning into how she felt about being a married woman and then a mother. He could also find you sketching in silence next to Benedict, the two of you after attending to draw the same scene and then critiquing each other's work when you were done. You would trade books and ideas with Eloise, listen to Fran play the piano while working on your embroidery, and the scenes which would warm his heart the most, you’d come around to chase after Greg and Hyancith playing with them in the gardens and keeping a watchful eye to make sure they stayed safe. 

Anthony adored how close you were to his siblings, and he loathed how much of a distance there seemed to be between the two of you. 

You were cold to the Viscount, you had been since the evening you came to Daphne’s rescue, he had attempted to give you his thanks and you had simply excused yourself, “My apologies my Lord but I seem to be down a glass of lemonade presently and I find myself to be quite parched, excuse me.” Your tone was cold and Anthony spent the rest of that night and the next two years trying to figure out what he possibly couldn’t done to make you so icy towards him.

“I do not understand it Ben, she is so kind and lovely to the rest of you but is like a stone wall when it comes to me, what could I be missing?”

“Perhaps she just doesn’t like you brother have you ever thought of that?” Benedict was too preoccupied with this still life to deal with his older brothers pining at the moment. 

“That is not possible, I’ve done nothing but be the perfect gentleman to her.” 

“Anthony I have no idea why dear Y/N does not like you but what exactly will you whining in my studio do about that?” 

“I resent that. I am not whining I am simply asking my dearest brother for his advice on a matter I care very much about. I thought that was what brothers were for.”

“You want my advice, Anthony? Think. Think long and hard about what you want and how you’ll get it because Y/N has no patience for wishy-washy men.”

“That is horrible advice, Ben.”

“When then perhaps you can find better advice from your other brothers. Which will it be Anthony, the one who has been blindly in love with his best friend for years, or the ten-year-old?” 

“I hate it when you’re right.”

“I know. Now leave, that storm cloud above your head is casting shadows on my fruit.” Ben pointed his paintbrush at the bowl of fruit balanced atop a stool. Anthony huffed and knowing that it would bother his brother, he grabbed the apple off the top of the pile and took a bite of it as he strode out of the room

Ben had told him to think, but Anthony didn’t know what to think about. He knew that he craved your attention. He knew that he enjoyed seeing you around his house, interacting with the people whom he loves. He enjoyed hearing your witty comebacks and the way that even if you were not doing anything in particular you still fill the space you’re in.

He wanted her in his life, and if he was being completely honest with himself he wanted more than that. 

It’s during his musing that he runs into her in the hallway, you have a book clutched within your hand, and your head is held high. You don’t stop your stride even though he knows that you saw him. He bites his lip and tampers down a smirk. Add another thing to that list of things he likes about you, you have fire, he just wished that it wasn’t always aimed at him.

“Lady, L/N which one of my dear siblings are you spending your day with today?” He attempts to match his pace with yours catching up to you so that the two of you walk shoulder and shoulder.

“Actually, Lord Bridgerton, I was having tea with your mother this afternoon she invited me over so we could discuss what to do about Frannie’s debut next season.”

This was not something that normal family friends do, you know that and he knows that. His sibling’s entrances into society are a matter which the viscountess must handle, something his mother has had to continue to do because of his lack of a wife. 

“That was very kind of you to help her with.”

“Well, she doesn’t have anyone else to help her.” Your words cut him down, not for the first time. 

“Lady L/N may I be frank?”

“It is your home, you may do as you please.” You turn to face him, your face a mask of indifference. 

“What have I done to cross you, for the longest time I have known you you have been cold to me and I do not understand why?” 

“I had figured that you did not remember, either that or you had purposely forgone trying to speak with me about it.”

“About what?” 

“Our first meeting My Lord.” 

“I remember our first meeting very clearly, it is one of my fondest memories seeing you stand up for Daphne and ruin Lord Taylor’s vest.” He tilts his head to the side and smiles at the memory.

“That was not the first time we met My Lord, the first time we met you snubbed me in front of the entire ton and sparked rumors that did not leave me until two seasons later.” She was harsh in her words and the tightness in her shoulder’s belayed her desire to flee.

Anthony was speechless, surely he had not? He would’ve remembered her, would’ve remembered turning down one of the most beautiful women he had ever met, intentionally or otherwise. 

“I- I beg your deepest forgiveness Y/N I do not remember and if I had I would’ve tried to make it up to you tenfold by now.”

Your eyes began to gloss over and you looked at the wall beside his head, “It was my first season out, Lady Danbury’s ball, and I had seen you standing there surrounded by other gentleman. I had thought you a very fine figure and despite the rumor mill telling me you were nothing but a rake I had tried to begin a conversation. All you did was turn to me and laugh. I wasn’t asked to dance for the entire rest of that season and it was only until my Mother forced the son of one of her garden party friends to dance with me was that streak broken. You were the first and only man I had ever attempted to pursue and you laughed in my face. Were it not for my deep need to help those I see in need I would never have talked to you or any member of the Bridgerton family for the rest of my life.”

“You must know that I regret that, I regret everything I have ever done to hurt you and I will spend the rest of my days working for your forgiveness.” If Anthony was a weaker man he would’ve fallen to his knees and begged for your forgiveness until his last breath, right there in the hallways of his family’s home.

“I appreciate your words Anthony, but that’s all they are… words. I am unmarried, one year from becoming a spinster in the eyes of the entire ton, and you, you are the only one I can blame.” You don’t wait for his reply, just stalking off and wiping the tears from your eyes.

Anthony resolved himself in that moment. He would do whatever it took to make it up to you, to bring a smile to your face, and to cast away the hurt he had caused.

Part 2

[qirongshusband]

OMG!!! I love your works so much. Your writing style is so yummy 😩😩😩 Could I request a story with ftm reader and Nanami or Hiromi(if you write for him) on a busy bus ride? So the bus is super crowded. The ftm reader has to sit on their lap, and starts to subtly tease them? Thank you! Love all your work 😙��

𐔌┆bus ride .ᐟ ꒱ྀིྀི ⊹.

Notes ~ I saw Higuruma and instantly giggled… Also thank ya’ so much for the compliment （＾Ｏ＾）

MENTIONS — NSFW, FTM!Reader, mentions of cunt/clit, public Transportation, public sex?(kinda), teasing, pinching/flicking clit, edging.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

It was around 4PM and you were finally off the clock for work, you were making your way out of the building you worked at and to the bus station. As you were making your way there you saw a familiar figure standing near the pole that has the bus sign in it, you smiled as you hurried towards Hiromi tapping his shoulder.

Hiromi turned around and slightly looked down to notice a friend of his meeting up with him at a time like this, “Ah! I see you take this bus too then.” He said in a playful tone along with the sides of his mouth curling into a small smile, you nodded as the two of you talked about work and took a few steps to the bench to wait for the bus’s arrival.

The two of you talked for quite a while as the bus finally arrived, there were quite a few people though…most likely rush hour. You’d hope that there would be a few seats open by the time you got in the bus but to your avail there was only one left and you didn’t want to be selfish by taking the last one so you offered it to Hiromi..at first he couldn’t accept your offer but you kept on persisting he’d go on and take it which he finally gave in.

You were standing right in front of him carrying on the conversation the two of you were having beforehand, you felt slightly tired though from all of the work you were doing so your legs felt a little sore from standing so much. Hiromi noticed and felt bad, he pulled you onto his lap which took you by surprise so you let out a subtle gasp.

“I apologize for the sudden gesture but please sit. You look like you’re about to fall over.” You tried to protest but he hushed you, you fell silent as you sat up straight not wanting to make him uncomfortable, of course the position..the situation made your cheeks go red. He noticed your small reaction and let out a soft chuckle not loud enough for you to hear. Now before you go thinking no you two aren’t just friends you two mutually feel the same way about each other but are too pussy to confront each other..there are many moments between you two that’d confuse if you’re dating or not.

You both were at the very back in the bus but there were still somewhat of people around, not that many in the back since everyone was in a rush to get to their places as soon as they could, you were placed onto Hiromi’s lap as his arm was wrapped around your waist and his hand on his other arm was placed on your thigh for support so you don’t fall off. Hiromi’s face was in the crook of your neck breathing slowly and it sent shivers down your spine.. “Hiromi?” His name fell out of your mouth like a broken record,

All of the sudden more people started coming to the back of the bus due to the bus being more crowded and you felt embarrassed hoping no one was noticing the sight happening with you and Hiromi…Hiromi grumbled out a small ‘hm’ before his slender fingers moved their way in between your legs as he began to rub your clothed cunt, slowly creating a wet spot.

You were squirming around on his lap as you tried your best to be quiet as you could not wanting to draw attention to the both of you, you leaned against Hiromi hiding your face in the crook of his neck placing your bag over your lap to be sure no one could see what was going on.

“Hmm. Embarrassed?” He had a smirk on his face as his fingers kept rubbing near your clothed cunt purposely avoiding your clit trying to overstimulate you, you had some decency and tried to ask if the both of you could take it outside of the public and that it was embarrassing but he denied your request.

Your back slightly arching and your breathing turning into shuddering deep panting, you tried your best to control yourself and have some restraint as you sat up and tried to close your legs more but that just led to his palm rubbing against your heat.

On top of all of that your ass was rubbing against his cock, you could feel the right bulge pressing against your ass but all you could do was be quiet and make sure no one noticed the two of you.

You felt the bridge of his nose brush against your neck as he softly left small pecks on your neck leaving you more flustered, you felt his hand slide under your slacks as his cold fingers rubbed against your clit and only your clit, causing the wet spot on your slacks to cause more of a wet spot. He’d pinch, pull, tug, and flick at your clit as he let little chuckles out meanwhile you were fighting back from letting out loud moans, your moans were very quiet and low, it helped more that the bus was loud so nobody could even hear the both of you, the people standing in front of you had their backs turnt not facing the either of you which was more of a relief..

“H—Hiromi..please..people will— see—!” You managed to stutter out in a small whisper as you looked at him in desperation, he shrugged as he replied back to you in response, “well..it’s loud and no one is looking. Not really a problem now..is it?” He pinched your clit before you could respond causing you to moan instead of speaking.

You wanted more and needed more but on a bus? That was so shameful and you didn’t want to get caught. It was so embarrassing..before you could feel the release come out Hiromi removed his fingers from your clit and rubbed in between your wet folds, your slick was getting all over his fingers. He knew what he was doing, he knew what drove you crazy and what made you feel so good, he also liked stopping you right before you were about to cum.

He harshly slapped your cunt a few times as he earned a moan from you, he continued to rub your sore clit and stop, it was on and off he’d keep going and then he’d stop. He did it again..as soon as you were about to orgasm he removed his hand out of your slacks placing it back onto your thigh and hold you up with one arm as he fixed your hair since it looked like a mess, the bus was coming to your stop..shame.

You were panting heavily and opened your eyes to look around and not as many people were around anymore..you had no energy to walk or move, you felt too overstimulated to walk or else you’d probably end up crying and beg him to fuck you and take you right there in front of those people. Hell maybe he’d come home with you if you ask nicely..~

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

[gaysindistress]

Can I request suggestive headcanons for Gale, Wyll, Astarion, Halsin, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor with shy female s/o who would go out of their way to help others whenever they can please?

Bg3 masterlist

Gale:

Gale is going to be so causal about his praise. Yes he’s going to smile at you and brush your hair back but he’s also going to lean down to whisper some filth into your ear. Things that are veiled as normal praise like “you’ve done such a good job today, my love” but he’s behind you with his hand wrapped around your neck while rolling his hips into your ass.

He’s going to make you wait. For hours. Hell find every reason possible to delay going to bed while also slowly getting you more and more worked up. Dinner has to be made but not before he’s thoroughly ravished your chest and left a trail of small bruises from collar to navel. Wyll needs his advice on something but it can wait until after some light over the clothes fondling.

Wyll:

Sweet Wyll would be the most vanilla about this in that he wouldn’t realize the effect he’s having on you. hes subtly drawing closer to you by your hip and whispering into your ear words of encouragement in that beautiful voice, causing his hot breath to wash over your neck. Within a matter of moments, your body is on fire and you’re becoming antsy. He’d take this as you being nervous so he’d try to reassure you by squeezing your hip and kissing your cheek.

If you were to tell him this he would be embarrassed but after it settles in that you’re worked up, he’s giving you that award winning smile of his and leading you back to your bed.

Astarion:

He’s gonna be clumsy as fuck about this.

When he sees you coming back from telling yet another person that you don’t know how to cure smelly armpits, he’s so giddy. He can’t contain his giggles and will absolutely burst out in laughter as soon as you stop in front of him. He’ll give you a half hearted apology and a kiss which is never just one kiss. Astarion needs all of the kisses from you because he knows that you don’t expect anything to follow….however there are times where he wants there to be more and this would be one of those times.

He’s tugging at you and pulling you towards a semi dark alley way as he paws at your clothes. There’s nothing perfect or planned about this other than your route home because you best believe he’s not finished with you yet.

Halsin:

Anytime Halsin sees you doing something kind for a stranger, he’s whispering into your ear that you need to return to camp with a strained voice. He’s posted up behind you like the bear of a bodyguard he is with his arms crossed over his chest and glaring at everyone. We all know he can be a gentle giant and wouldn’t hurt a fly but if you get between him and his lover? Best of luck to you.

He doesn’t have any concerns about having you in nature because it’s where he feels the safest but he’s respectful of you. If he hasn’t been completely consumed by his desire for you, he’s finding a hidden meadow and making a soft bed for your night together.

Dammon:

He’s going to be the sweetest. Since he’s so concerned about your wellbeing, he’s going to ensure that you’re fed, bathed, and rested before he starts anything. I feel like he’d be the type to help you bathe but it slowly turns into something more. He’d be washing your body when he starts to get a little handsy. He’s telling you to relax and chuckling against your neck as your breathing becomes quick. There’s definitely a mess of water but that can be dealt with in the morning.

If you try to return the favor, he’s dancing just out of your reach and will not let you touch him. This is about you and you alone.

Rolan:

*cough* lowkey hate sex *cough*

Listen to hatef—k by the bravery. That’s all I gotta say.

Zevlor:

Like i said, Zevlor is good with words, he was a commander after all but they do fail him from time to time. So when this happens, you will be spending the foreseeable future in your bed being devoured by him. Zevlor is by no means inexperienced. Out of practice maybe but he is older and has had his fair share of steamy encounters. He knows exactly how to relax you while also working you to the point of tears. He won’t be cruel like Gale and make you wait hours but all good things take time darling and you can’t rush perfection like this.

[tripg]

Ghost slowly going deaf from years of noise overexposure. He's been able to read lips from years of recon and operations, but he learns sign language as a fallback.

Of course, Ghost doesn't want to tell Soap so that he doesn't worry, and so that Ghost can keep the status quo of the 141 until it's too late. He only tells Price.

Ghost loves hearing Soap's voice so much, and is desperate to hear it while he can (even if he hears it a lot already) since his sergeant's voice comforts him so much, and he's his ops partner...that's all, he tries to convince himself. Successfully, even. He doesn't want some of the last things he remembers hearing Soap say to be caring concern. Nothing to hold him back and make him regret things he can't help...

He doesn't want his hearing to go out, but when it does, he wants to remember things as they were. There's no place for him once it does. He's slowly becoming a liability. Price knows it, and only Price...

Soap finds out Ghost's going deaf and that Ghost was keeping it from him...(source withheld). But he also finds out why. Soap is decimated knowing his Lieutenant is so concerned about him and how he'd react but also that Ghost didn't want him to know...and he learns his Lt.'s reasons, and that cuts him deeper.

Soap never stops talking to Ghost, and tries to feign that he doesn't know what's happening, trying desperately to make sure Ghost only hears nice and good things...but knowing what's happening, he starts learning sign language in secret.

The day comes when Ghost finally loses his hearing medically. It's over, and he's not getting it back.

The same day, he tells Soap what happened. Soap seemed to notice at least—since he was the one affected most, and Ghost wanted Soap to know as soon as it was too late. He can only feel the vibrations of the words leaving his throat and watch Soap as his sergeant listens quietly. Ghost spills everything, especially while he can't hear himself anymore, and is just depending on how he remembered his words should feel as he spoke.

It's over, he thinks. I'm sorry.

But then, Ghost reads Soap's lips—wide-eyed—as Soap responds presumably verbally, but also in sign: "You may not know it, but I can still tell you I love you, Si..."

He reads Soap's lips as he probably spoke aloud, but Soap signs perfectly the entire message, up until the end...when he signs "Si":

Soap pinches with both hands, vertically, with fingertips together, drawing his right hand up from his left in a wavering, wispy motion. But then he clasps both hands into fists, with his arms crossing his chest in an X: "ghost"..."love"...

"Si. Simon."

After a few seconds, Ghost signed back: "S...Simon"

After a half minute of silence where they were both still and silent, Ghost asks a question to Soap, given he's still learning too.

"How do you sign 'sunshine'?"

...and then the base became a lot quieter, save some sniffling and questions as the two of them talked for hours.

The next day, Soap's voice wouldn't lead you to Ghost anymore.

Context + reasoning on the sign language described, which was American Sign Language (ASL) and not British Sign Language (BSL). My apologies for any confusion! tl;dr: Soap swaps from BSL to ASL only for his pet name for Ghost, so that it's less likely to be picked up by others.

[makethemhoesmad]

my own hands

this is for my queen @iminlovewithpaigebueckers

@bueckersstrap also helped

just smth to tide you guys over, i have a longer paige fic in the works!

—

azzi tucks herself into me, wrapping her arms around my waist. she tugs me closer in a perfectly chaste way, but i can’t help just wanting a little bit more.

“azzi,” i mumble, adding that touch of whine into my voice that tends to drive her crazy. she doesn’t answer, just whispers something and hushes me. i try to lay there, focus on my breathing, but i can’t. every time i listen to breath, i hear her breath. which reminds me im right next to her. which reminds me that i want her, really bad, but she’s asleep. i have two options. i can lay here until the morning, or until azzi wakes up, or i can take matters into my own hands. when she turns and the swell of her ass brushes against me, the decision is made. i carefully move one of my hands from around her, and slip it into the waistband of my panties. i slowly work two fingers into myself, letting out a little gasp. i don’t notice when azzi opens her eyes and looks at me.

“what are you doing baby?” she questions, placing her palm over my hand. 

“i- im so sorry az i just couldn’t sleep and i needed you so bad and-“ she puts her other hand over my mouth, silencing me. 

“don’t gotta say sorry, darling. just couldn’t sleep because you needed mommy so bad?” 

i nod, ducking my head shamefully. she pulls my mouth to hers, kissing me softly. then, she pushes me off her. 

“what?” i groan at the loss of contact.

“you should’ve waited, baby.” she shakes her head at me, and i promptly start to apologize again

“c’mere. if you wanna get off, you gotta do it all by yourself. that’s what you wanted, right baby?” she asks, yanking me roughly onto her bare upper thigh. instead of grasping my hips like she normally does, she simply places her hands behind her head and leans back to watch me struggle. i’m grinding myself against her rapidly, trying to gain any sort of friction. anytime i feel like i’ve reached some sort of high, she shifts ever so slightly, or grins at me, and i lose my focus momentarily, and have to start again. after the third time this happens, i lash out.

“azzi, what the fuck.” 

she smiles up at me, then finally wraps her hands around my waist, and pulls me over her mouth. i feel her flick her tongue over my clit, and i nearly lose it right there. i brace my hands on her arms, wrapping my fingers around her biceps, letting them curl tighter as she draws a climax from me. i cry out, feeling her moan under me. i go limp, letting her slide me off of her and curl back up against me.

“you tired now, honey?” she asks, smirking at me as a yawn escapes my lips. i nod, giving her all the satisfaction of knowing that she’s the reason why.

[togegiri]

✎ᝰ ❛ THIS SWEETNESS IS JUST MADE FOR YOU ❜ — yuuta okkotsu. toge inumaki. megumi fushiguro. yuuji itadori.

౨ৎ⋆˚｡⋆ content. The many woe's of being inlove is valentines day, so what kind of sweet treat do they make for you?

₊˚⊹ ᰔ warnings. gender neutral reader. you/your and they/them pronouns is used. (name) will be used. petnames is used (my love - yuuta , darling - megumi , my sunflower - yuuji). tooth rottening fluff.

note. kind off early for valentines day but I wanted to write it anyways! happy early valentines day people <33

— THE PREPARED TYPE. 乙骨憂太 | okkotsu yuuta

[ "happy valentines day (name), here you go, usually girls give out the chocolates but I wanted to do the giving! I didn't want to buy just chocolates so I made chocolate chip cookies! I hope you love them my love.. y- you don't mind if I call you my love right?" ]

A gentleman to the boot. A week before valentines he has already been planning on what to get for you. He wanted to give you something meaningful that you'll love. Thus the idea of baking cookies came in.

A chocolate chip cookie to be exact. Although he doesn't know baking that much, he asked for his friends' help, pandas, toge, maki. Although when he asks for their help all he gets is “I don't know how to bake,” or “bonito flakes” in toge's language. 

Thus he opted to get baking lessons which was worth it because he learned how to bake cakes, and different types of desserts that he can surprise you for any occasion.

While in the baking lessons he was a little slow but the teacher didn't mind at all. He had to apologize a lot due to the small clumsy mistakes he does but nonetheless he was able to learn through his mistakes.

He gifts you the chocolate chip cookie with a white paper bag and light pink ribbons and laces. He tried his best to make the packaging look adorable which ended up to be cute and great! 

He also bought you some pink tulips. The day of the valentines day he was worried you wont like the cookies he baked or worse your allergic to something in the cookie. So he had to ask in advance if your allergic to anything before he gave it to you.

When he gave the cutely packaged cookies and the tulips he gave you an awkward smile. As you feel your body feel hot as he blushed a little seeing you take the cutely packaged gift and the pink tulips.

“Oh uh… umm since you said you dont have any allergies h- here! happy valentines,” he gives it to you as he awkwardly chuckles feeling pink dust forming in his cheek. Slowly you take the cutely packaged sweet treat, “I hope you love it how much I loved making it for you.”

“thank you yuuta,” you smiled, giving him a small peck in the kiss, making his eyes widen. His whole face covered with his blush, “your welcome my love,” he gave you a kiss back. Yuuta feels as if his mouth has been overfilled with the sweetness of the chocolates as he looks at you. He truly is a lovesick fool isn't he?

— THE AWKWARD TYPE. 狗巻棘 | inumaki toge 

[ “uhh… k- kelp… tuna tuna,” ] 

He's a hopeless romantic. Although quite awkward as I'd like to think when he's in love, he'll love hard to the point he feels nervous and shy around them. He had to take three shopping trips in three whole days because he feels as if the things he bought are not too worthy for you.

Unlike yuuta he just followed a youtube tutorial and winged it the day before valentine. It was a lot of trial and error. Yes he woke up panda just to force panda to try the first failure of his creation.

Panda thought he was poisoning him after eating all of his onigiri. Yes the cursed corpse puked it out after. Toge has to be up all night to make those chocolate soufflés for you. The ending was a messy kitchen, a panda who looks like he's about to enter heaven and see Jesus, and a perfectly done chocolate soufflés.

He wrapped it in a minimalistic way, a red wrapper and a pink ribbon on the chocolate soufflés and made a small cute note on it drawing a chibi of yourself and him holding hands. 

He hopes the chocolate soufflés were to your liking and the love letter reaches through your heart. He'll hide under his collar once you get the gifts he has given you. He wants to run away, kiss you, or give you a kiss then run away after! 

In short he doesn't know what to do and just short circuits but tries his best to stay where he is as you took his declaration of love.

As you take the valentines gift you smile at him seeing the love letter attached to the wrapped treats. He blushed a little trying to hide his face with his collar as you read the letter he wrote.

Dear (name),

I love you, I know I can say it aloud like anybody can. I do hope my actions can speak through the words I badly wanna say. I love you dearly. 

You smile at him, bringing him to a hug. The cursed speech user's eyes widen at this as he awkwardly hugs you back putting his head on your shoulder feeling his whole face hot and embarrassed. “I love you too toge!” He nodded his head as he hugged you tightly making you giggle hugging him back tightly. 

Words may not be said but actions are much louder to toge's love for you. 

— THE COOL HEADED TYPE. 伏黒恵 | fushiguro megumi 

[ “I hope this isn't much, I hope you aren't disappointed, I'm not much of a flower type of guy but I hope this love letter will suffice, happy valentines day d-.. ahem! darling..” ] 

He knows how to bake and is a perfect boyfriend at this point. Although he's quite stoic and a private person you loved him nonetheless. As for valentines day presents he already planned them in advance.

He personally doesn't like giving flowers but prefers to give you a love letter or love notes. He made some chocolate truffles for you but when gojo saw him baking he immediately annoyed megumi to let him join baking which he denied multiple times.

Gojo ended up eating some of the truffles as megumi forced him out of the kitchen. The way he decorated the packaging was a simplistic style. A cute pink wrapper with red ribbons decorating it. As he gave it to you, same with the cutely decorated letter scented with his favorite perfume.

Particularly he wasn't embarrassed more on the nervous side, afterall he value what your likes and dislikes and wants the best for you. 

“Tell me if you don't like it, I'm gonna remake the one you like, okay?” he says making you chuckle as you take the gifts he gave for you, “silly megumi, I'd eat it even if I'm allergic to it if it came from you,” 

The raven haired male chuckles, “stop being an idiot I would never let you eat something you're allergic too,” you grin as he gives you a small peck in the cheek as you hugged him close. 

— THE SUNSHINE TYPE. 虎杖悠仁 | itadori yuuji

[ “I got you tons of things, if I'm being truthful I almost forgot about it so I kinda panicked and bought lots of things! I hope you like what I get for you, my sunflower!” ] 

He almost forgot about it until nobara asked what he'll get for you. His eyes widened as he looked at nobara in panic as the brunette girl looked at him in defeat. He forced the girl to help him as nobara fighted for her life to not be in yuuji's shit. 

Ended up helping him in the end as they looked around a patissier shop where he ended up buying brownies for you. He also requested for the workers to wrap it in a super duper cute way! pink wrapper, red ribbons, with white frills, and cute heart designs on it.

He also bought you a cute hello kitty plushie, a bouquet rose and a letter. Yuuji Itadori is going all out for this because he felt guilty and almost forgot about it. He will say it to you too once he gives his presents to you. Apologizing, looking like a kicked puppy.

You chuckled as you let it go, making the boy grin and pepper you with kisses.

“I’m still sorry I almost forgot about it…” yuuji whined hugging you close nuzzling his head onto your shoulder making you chuckle, “it's fine, I still love you yuuji, I don't mind if you forgot about it,” the pink haired male pouts. “That's not good, if I forget any event I'm gonna be angry at myself for that because I want to shower you with all my love.”

“You already do those yuuji, everyday you shower me with your love,”

“that's true I still want you to know I love you with every anniversary, valentines day, birthday, christmas—”

“yeah, yeah, I got it yuuji,” 

He chuckles, hugging you closer, loving the warmth you two make.

“Good!” 

[potteraep]

-me, a father?

-yuta okkotsu x afab!reader

-little thoughts of how yuta would be as a dad :>

-characters aged up to 22! mainly fluff, little tingle of angst, mentions of pregnancy, and birth ( only reason I put afab cuz of pregnancy and stuff sorry 😅)

-WHEN YUTA FOUND OUT YOU WERE PREGANT HE ALMOST FELL TO HIS KNEES. and not even to be dramatic.

The second the words left your mouth it’s like every word left his, his words and thoughts left him

a few awkward seconds made you worry with regret and sadness, not knowing how he felt you shifted your head ready to turn and apologize before you hear a soft sob escape his mouth

you looked back worried to see tears streaming down his face and a bright smile on his features, he ran to you cradling you softly before he pulled away and kissed you still worried but happy

“me, a father?”

-those whole nine months were the best and worst months of his life all he felt was worry and affection to you and his child growing in you

Most nights he’d fall asleep with you in his arms, his injured hands from battles seeming so light on your skin rubbing your stomach softly and kissing your head

of course there were ups and downs of the longs and Tiring months when your tiredness took you over and yelled at him he understood and apologized never wanting to fight with you, even tho he looked like a sad puppy sulking the rest of the day.

he never stopped talking about you and your growing son to his friends and teacher, they were all excited and happy seeing how his eyes seemed more happy and his eye bags seemed less appearent

Gojo was a little to excited at the news and half the stuff at the child’s future nursery was bought by him as a gift and a show of support

maki and toge were super happy for him and toge was excited to meet the baby when they were born ( so was maki but she tried to hide it)

when you went into labor this boy was so nervous biting his nails and shaking in the hospital hallway not aloud inside even tho you wanted him to be it was hospital rule that he despised wanting to unleash rika on whoever made that dumb rule

he paced around the hall while Gojo came to the hospital to support both of you even his unserious demeanor had sat down seriously to reassure yuta that’d you and your son would come out of the room perfectly fine

when a nurse came out to tell them they could see you he rushed past her with a thank you and opened the door slowly Gojo trailing behind him

when he walked in he almost wanted to cry right there and then, the sight of you laying upward and his newborn song in your arms so peacefully made his heart strings tug at him tightly he walked over and smiled at you kissing your forehead before he looked at his son up close

it was his son alright, I mean he never had any doubts but seeing the baby looking back up at him made him realize the reality of everything

Gojo tapped his shoulder trying to pull him out of his daze as he blinked looking back at you, he paused seeing you raise the baby into his arms

He felt such adoration seeing his son peacefully laying in his arms his dark blue eyes fluttering open, a perfect reflection of his fathers.

he felt his eyes well up with tears at the sight. A wobbly smile on his lips as he bit back sobs as his son wrapped his tiny finger around his ring finger

That moment he swore to never let anything happen to you or your son

Raising your son wasn’t the easiest thing he’s done sure, but he enjoyed it so much. He already had a bit of experience having a little sister of his own.

Some nights you’d wake up to find him reading a little picture book to his while he listening not even comprehending what his father was saying.

he’d also get so emotional knowing his baby wouldn’t be little forever

when your son started to walk and talk

he’d joke around with him giving him piggyback rides and playing games outside teaching him many different skills

Sometimes when he’d fall asleep his son would prank him drawing on his face and showing you as you both laughed at his peaceful sleeping form

Your son also loved his uncles and aunts he would have a notebook to talk to toge because he found it difficult to under stand how he spoke at it melted inumakis heart

Makis serious demeanor faded a bit as the kid ran around her saying tag while expecting her to chase him ( she did)

panda would become a personal stuffed animal and let the kid lay on him and run around with him as if he was a horse

Yuuji nobara and megumi even met and adored the kid

yuuji being the sweetest and bringing him chocolate for them to share in secret

Nobara would play arts and crafts making origami animals for the child to play with

megumi would offer to babysit because “ knew it was hard to take care of a baby” bud deep down he just wanted to see the child

gojo was the worst of them being shameless about buying your son snacks and expensive toys no 4 year old should have and would giggle while you scolded him that you didn’t want your child being a spoiled brat even tho he was the sweetest and most grateful kid ever

Sometimes all of them would come over just to shower the boy with attention and love as if he didn’t get it everyday from his parents

(Megumi would summon his demon dogs and let him play with him when they went outside)

the boy of course grew up very kind and timid a lot like yuta did often hiding behind his leg when introduced to new people and crying when he scraped his knee playing outside

still even with his shy demeanor he tried his best to make friends at parks before he started school and nervously would play with trains with other kids

He’d talk to you and yuta about his day and sometimes cry to you about how some kids picked on him for his toys being super expensive ( of course due to gojo) and that they said he was probably a spoiled brat

you and yuta always listened no matter when and what trying to reassure him and cheer him up sometimes you even caved and baked him sweets sometimes while yuta played with him in the living room lifting him in the air on his shoulders running around like a rocket ship while his son giggled

but no matter what yuta okkotsu is the best (husband) and father in the world.

-reblogs appreciated! and feel free to leave whatever feed back so I can improve or just how you felt about this fic ! :>

[kneelingshadowsalome]

How would konig react if reader left? like maybe without a trace n just disappeared cause she couldn’t anymore?

Hehehe... No one escapes König.

TW/CW: Can we just all agree that toxic!König is a trigger warning on its own from now on? I mean, it's the regular: stalking, harassing, sexism, potential killing(s)... also light angst (featherlight if you compare to the "cheating on König" answer.)

I mean, sure, he would be upset if he found out reader is trying to get away from him. He's not stupid. König knows he's built different (in more ways than one) and knows he will never be the man reader deserves. Still, he is fixed on the idea that they belong together. They are carved from the same tree. She is the moon to his sun, the light to his darkness. Wherever she goes, he goes. It should be the other way around, but if the woman of his dreams plays hard to get... Sure, he'll entertain her.

If someone approaches reader, König gets very territorial. Those poor souls get threats, maybe even some stabbing – this really depends on the situation. But if reader tries to detach or leave the relationship, he would observe this change in behavior with curious anxiety.

If drastic measures are taken and she tries to escape or make a disappearing act, König would simply do everything he can to find her. And let me tell you: this man can and will outwit anyone who doesn't share his background and training. So unless reader gets some actual, skilled, professional help from outside, she doesn't have much of a chance.

And when König eventually finds her, he would try to talk her back. Just persuade, persuade, persuade. Apologize if and when he has done something wrong. Shower her with attention and compliments and gifts. Beg, even – on his knees like a lovelorn knight. If reader says it's over and she doesn't want to continue the relationship, it would break his heart. But that would only last for a day or two. He knows who he belongs to and most of all, who belongs to him, so he would form a plan. König wouldn't get too discouraged.

He would simply draw his shoulders back and stay around. For years, if need be. After all, he already won her heart – he will do so again. He promised he would never let her go.

He would check up on her, be very suave and gentlemanly about it. Reader can always talk to him if she needs someone to turn to. They can at least remain friends, right?

If she answers his calls, he would at some point come over. Uninvited, yes, but just to pay a brief visit... See if she needs something. He is always willing to help should reader need something. A bookshelf needs to be assembled? He's on it! Reader needs a ride somewhere? He's already on his way. Whatever it is, he can do it. (He will show her how useful he is, verdammt noch mal.)

If reader tries to see others... uh-oh. König would start by threatening the possible candidates. No one would stay around for long to oppose this man. If they did, well, death sentence for them! Or at least a new hole somewhere. While he sort of knows that what he's doing is wrong, he also can't stand the idea of someone laying eyes, let alone a finger on her. He can't stand the thought of spending the rest of his life without her, because if she were to find someone new, someone better, he would watch that shit from afar and slowly break to pieces. And that's just not an option.

One slip of a comfort fuck, and she wouldn't get him out of her house. He would view it as a sign that you're back together again no matter what you tell him. Also, did I say comfort fuck? I meant mad, pent-up pounding that lasts the whole night. The sheets would be in shreds, reader would be covered in sweat and cum and tears and bite marks made in the heat of passion and frustration. The cuddles that follow nearly leave her bruised. König has missed her SO much 💞

So, the cocktail would be: hunting her down, harassing, stalking and "helping" her, bullying her dates... Our king would even resort to simping 🥺.

But König would only say he's in love. He will simply never find another you ❤️. (And you're not allowed to find anyone else either.)

He would view it romantic in a way: reader forces him to woo her all over again! As we already know, hunter/prey dynamics only give him a thrill. She must like the setting too. Why else would she do something like this? "Women and their games…" That would be his thought, accompanied with a shrug.

[dontexpectmuch]

hiii

can you do a oneshot of jude being clingy all day to the female reader?

thank uu

your limbs felt heavy, almost like you were tied down to your bed, your chest the only thing that’s moving as it moves up and down, deep breaths leaving your nose as you slowly but surely come back to your senses.

you try to open your eyes, the brightness of your room making it harder than it needed to be. taking a nap during the day was definitely one of your favorite activities, especially after a long university day. and though your room is already filled with warmth radiating from the heater, you feel almost uncomfortably hot.

that is when you realize another source of warmth behind you, chest moving against your back as he deeply breathes in and out. not only is your body being covered with his body heat, no, jude also has his arms wrapped around your head, kind of like a deadlock, your cheeks being squished between his biceps.

you want to enjoy it, really, but with the heating on, the blanket over your bodies and judes naturally warm body, you feel stuffy.

his grip around your head isn’t tight, you could easily slip away, which you try, though you feel his arms tightening around you, now his leg thrown over yours under the blanket.

you tap his arm, voice low as your throat feels dry, “jude.”

you hear him mumble something under his breath, meaning he was awake, though he wouldn’t let you go. instead, he nuzzles his cheek against the top of your head, his body pressing against your back even more.

you try again, “jude, please, it’s warm.”

“five minutes.” his deep voice sends shivers down your back, and if it wasn’t for the heat surrounding you and your bladder reminding you that it needs to be emptied, you’d happily comply.

so, you do what any person in your position would do, you bite his arm, hard.

“dude.” jude whines, removing his arms from your head and turning to lay on his back, nose scrunching and eyebrows furrowed.

you laugh at his your expression, pressing one last kiss on his bare chest before getting up, heading to the bathroom.

the sound of the pasta boiling in the pot next to you feels the kitchen, drowning your voice as you hum long a song that was stuck in your head all day long. though you decided to take a break, you can`t help but think about all the studying that needed to be done. your shoulders feel tense, your head is pounding from the mere thought of sitting in front of all those books and understanding all those theories from your professor.

only when jude rests his head on your shoulder, his strong arms around your waist and his body pressed against your back, you relax, sighing as you lean against his body, lazily stirring the sauce in the pan.

“lets cuddle.” his breath feels hot against your neck, goosebumps feathering your skin.

you turn your head to look at your boyfriends face, smile gracing your lips, “lemme finish this, babe, we can cuddle afterwards.”

jude groans, lightly bumping his head against yours, “wanna cuddle now, miss you.”

if it wasn’t for the water in the pot that was threatening to spill over, you would have given in. but you quickly step out of his hold, moving forward to stir the pasta in the pot.

“i will come as soon as i am finished, babe, `kay?”

“but i want you now, it`s so boring without you, babe.” jude moved his hand up to your neck, thumb drawing circles against your skin.

yo take his hand to press a kiss against bis knuckles, a subtle way to apologize, “food needs to finished first.”

“`m not that hungry anyway!”

“jude.”

“fine.”

“where are you goin`?” jude immediately sits up as he watches you get up from the couch, stretching your arms above your head. his eyes are wide, all the sleepiness he felt a minute ago vanished.

“gotta pee.” you chuckle at his behaviour, “and, uh, you?” your ezes follow him as he, too, gets up, blanket abandoned on the couch.

“let`s go.” is all he says, holding your cold hand in his warm one, guiding the two of you to the bathroom. you are at a loss for words as you watch him take a seat on the side of the bathtub, opening the lid of the toilet seat, signaling you to, well, do your business. with him. watching you (?)

you don`t know why, but you decide to wait a minute, hoping that he will get up and leave you alone to do your business, though it never happens.

“babe?” jude looks at you confused, “everything okay?”

you sigh, “well, uhm, i was waiting for you to get out, y`know?”

jude giggles, shaking his head, “c`mon, `t`s not like i`ve never seen you naked.”

you scoff, taking his hand to make him stand up before you push him out of the bathroom, “still, i wanna do this, eh, in private. go back to the couch, won`t take long.” you shut the door behind you, judes big eyes looking at you pleadingly being your last sight of him.

as soon as you`re done, you open the door, eyes landing on jude who seems to have stayed on the same spot, waiting for you.

you laugh, “babe, for real?”

he shrugs, his hand finding yours once more as you walk back to your living room, taking place under the blanket again, his arms now around your waist and your head on his warm chest.

“i missed you.” he sighs, his cheek resting against your head.

you decide to not comment on his weird behavior today, enjoying his presence, “i missed you, too.”

exams are a pain in the ass, hope u still like this one though it is a bit short.

good night. 🥹

[sugar-coat-it]

Body piercer! Matty

Part 2 , Part 3

May I present my pride and joy (and first AU), body piercer Matty <3, based on the 2020 NOACF mohawk era

Fem! reader

****CW! Needles, pain****

Contains: Matty piercing reader’s nipples*, lustful fantasies, praise, Matty has a tongue piercing, HELLA tension and pining, Matty being a sweetheart through the whole thing

*note, I don’t have nipple piercings lol, apologies if any of this is inaccurate.

Word count: 5313

—------------------------------------------

PART ONE- Fate lands you in Matty Healy’s capable hands when looking to get your nipples pierced. Tension ensues.

—-----------------------------------------

The thought of getting your nipples pierced had been in the back of your mind for what felt like years. It nagged at you every time you saw a pretty girl with barbells poking out under her tank top, you wanted to be her. You’d done all the research, article after article on the healing period, the pain level, and the kinds of jewelry you can get. You also knew fairly well how they enhance sexual encounters, which had a whole draw of its own. You’d done everything except actually make the appointment. That is, up until a few days ago. Fresh off of a breakup and tired of feeling sorry for yourself, you’d called your local tattoo parlor and scheduled a slot with a body piercer named Maddie, then hung up feeling rather pleased with yourself for finally getting it done. The anticipation of the leadup to the appointment had you biting your lips raw. You’d gotten other piercings before, but never in a place so intimate. Never one that required taking your top off, that’s for certain. But friends had been encouraging you nonstop, telling you what a “hot girl” move it was, and who were you to argue? 

Finally, the day comes, and you’re swinging open the parlor door a little too hard, evidently very tense. The bell that jangles when the door opens clanks against the wall, making the man behind the counter startle. Wide-eyed and wincing, you shoot him an apologetic look, embarrassed that you’d practically ripped their front door off the hinge. Great start!

Slowly, after making sure the door is safely shut, you approach the counter, absentmindedly toying with the rings that adorn your fingers, twisting them between your thumb and your forefinger. The man at the counter is exactly who you’d expect to be working at a tattoo and piercing parlor, but an even more stunning rendition if you were being honest. His slightly sleepy-looking eyes brighten a little at the sight of you, a fluffy mohawk of chocolatey waves sitting atop his head. He’s adorned with inked patterns along his skin, a patchwork of symbols across his arms that you restrict yourself to only glancing at for a moment. His eyes crinkle at the edges when he greets you with a warm smile, offering a little wave before you start to explain why you’re here, your voice uncharacteristically high-pitched.

“Hi, I’ve got a 1:00 appointment?” you explain before providing your name, trying your hardest to stop fidgeting.

Your mind is in about 20 places, and it doesn’t help that your heart just fluttered at the eye contact he’s holding with you. The man nods at you, a low hum rumbling in his chest as he picks up the scheduling book, sifting through the pages with black polished nails. When he turns his head, you catch a glimpse of the single silver hoop earring that he’s sporting quite well. Curiosity creeps up like a slinking cat, making you wonder what other modifications he might have. His narrowed eyes scan the book, toffee-colored irises flicking over names until he finds yours penciled in, jabbing his nail against the page.

“Yeah I see you, you’re with me then. And, you did your paperwork and payment stuff, it looks like,” he says, snapping the schedule closed definitively.

“Oh, no I don’t think…” you start to correct, tilting your head at him with confusion until you trail off into quiet.

��That’s when it catches your eye, the nametag on his white tank top reads “Matty”. Then it clicks. Matty. Not Maddie. You’d scheduled your appointment to get your tits pierced with a guy. A very attractive guy that was now going to watch you squirm like a child. Your jaw drops slightly, a sinking feeling in your gut starting to fester as you realize your mistake.

“Everything alright there? Second thoughts, perhaps?” Matty prompts, raising an inquisitive eyebrow at you. 

“No… no second thoughts. To be honest, I thought I had an appointment with a female piercer,” you answer, preemptively grimacing before you’d even finished your sentence.

“Oh, shit. Well, that’s not ideal. Listen, we can get you in here another day then, no problem. Tell me what works for you,” he says, already scrambling for a pencil to put your name elsewhere in the book. 

“Actually, I think it’s fine. I’m already here, right?” you offer, shrugging to try and appear more nonchalant about the whole thing (your palms are sweating).

“Are you sure? Seriously, I don’t want you uncomfortable on my watch. It’s not a big deal to get you a different appointment,” he frowns, absentmindedly twirling the pencil between his fingers. 

His eyes are strangely soft for someone with such an intimidating job, you can only describe the feeling they give you as melting. You can’t quite place why, but his presence alone is somehow quelling your nerves, even if it’s just a bit. Your hands start to still, dropping to rest at your sides as you decide to let him do it anyway. He looks trustworthy, right? 

“Yeah, I’m sure. But thank you, truly,” you say, a soft smile pulling at your lips at how keen he seems on making you comfortable. 

Matty nods slowly, rising from the chair while eyeing you like he’s not sure if you’re going to turn on your heel and run out the door if he looks away. He asks you to follow him to the back, you’re trailing close behind as he pulls his baggy camo pants further up his hips by his belt. The room he leads you to is small and fairly chilly, but only in temperature. The space itself feels homey, plastered with stickers and posters of various punk bands, it doesn’t feel like some sterile hospital room. 

“Stay standin’ for me, just need to get some things,” he instructs, turning to reach for his supplies, including the jewelry you’d selected over the phone, “and, whenever you’re ready you can take your top off, okay?” 

Without the pressure of his eyes on you, it takes a moment before you slowly ease your shirt up and over your shoulders, setting it beside you. You take a slightly uneven breath as you reach to fumble with the clasp of your bra, suddenly forgetting the muscle memory from doing it for so many years. The moment it’s off, the rush of cold air instantly sends a shiver licking up your spine. You lean back against the counter, trying to appear as casual as you can as you eye the piercer. Your eyebrows slope with admiration, softening your expression as you realize that he’s now aimlessly fishing through a drawer, trying to give you time to ease into undressing while he’s still turned around. He stays with his back to you until you clear your throat, signaling that you’ve finished. His expression is unphased as he turns around on the heels of his platformed lace-up boots. God, he really is beyond cool, isn’t he? 

“Right, I’m gonna put these on, and then I’ll mark the placement,” Matty explains, holding up a pair of latex gloves. 

Matty pulls the gloves over his sizeable hands, the bulging veins catching your eye as he flexes his fingers to test that they’re taught. He’s taking a few steps closer to you, now only about an arm's length away as he explains that he’s not going to touch you without the gloves, though of course, your first unfiltered thought is that you wish he would. His eyes hadn’t strayed from your face for even a second this whole time, being remarkably neutral despite the fact that you were topless. Though, you suppose that sort of thing must not phase him since he’s probably pierced tons of nipples. That doesn’t stop the odd tinge of disappointment that he hadn’t even glanced at your body. You swallow the feeling like it’s bile, knowing that it’s totally unreasonable to want him to gaze at you with anything but professionalism. 

“Is it okay if I put my hands on you? Need to clean the area,” he asks, his eyes searching yours for any sign of discomfort, it’s making you slightly weak in the knees, he’s just so fucking gentle. 

You nod, rolling your shoulders back in preparation for him to touch you while he pours solvent on a cotton pad. His disciplined, gloved hands reach out, and only now does he allow his gaze to dip down to your chest. You could swear his breath hitches just a little, the quiet room allowing for the smallest sounds to be heard. Maybe he is just a man after all. The thought makes pride simmer in your chest, but you’re not dwelling on it for long, your mind going blank the moment he starts to swiftly swipe the pad along your nipples, sanitizing your skin and also effectively making them harden from the stimulation. You tense up, standing straighter than before as you bite back any semblance of a reaction. Matty throws you a glance to assess your discomfort, soft brown irises following the slopes of your features. He places the sanitizing supplies to the side, now uncapping a purple skin marker. This was going to be a long process if he kept looking at you that way.

“Nothing's happening yet, okay? Just gonna draw on where they’re gonna go,” he says, holding it up while raising his eyebrows as if to say “Look, it’s harmless”. 

Matty leans in again, his eyes narrowing with concentration, gloved knuckles brushing the side of your breast as he marks a dot on the side of your nipple. Watching Matty stare at your tits with such laser focus has your cheeks flushing just slightly, heat prickling at the bridge of your nose. He runs the tip of the marker from one side of the hardened bud to the other, marking a symmetrical dot. Tingles spread under your skin like wildfire, he’s barely touched you and yet you can feel yourself buzzing at the slightest sensations. His pretty brown eyes meet yours and he just smiles at you sympathetically, knowing how hyperfocused on his every movement you must be.

“You’re not breathing,” he whispers, playfully jabbing the capped end of the pen against your arm. 

Your eyes widen as you realize that he’s absolutely right, you’d been holding your breath this whole time. You release your bated breath, your chest heaving slightly as Matty keeps looking down at you, giving you a moment to regain your senses. You swear the eye contact while being inches away from him is making you more lightheaded than the lack of oxygen. With a satisfied nod, he resumes, repeating the same process of drawing the dots at the peak of your other breast. Then, he takes a step back, biting the cap of the marker between his canines while he evaluates his work. This allows you another moment to admire him as he eyeballs the symmetricalness of his markings. Your mind is wandering, perhaps trying to distract you from how intently this man is studying your breasts. You’re wondering what it would be like if he wasn’t so gentle with you. What if he touched you instead with greed, the need to satiate himself? In your head, you imagine the warm, honey tones of his eyes darkening like tinted glass as he drinks you in not as his client, but as something to desire, to want to feel flush beneath his calloused fingertips. This version of Matty doesn’t try to limit every graze of his working hands, he’s starving; groping, and mapping every part of your skin that he can reach. You’re jumping the gun now, the image flashes through your mind like a ricocheting bullet: Matty’s got you pressed up against the wall, his hands are mean as he grabs a handful of one of your tits, his thigh is hitched between your legs, keeping your thighs parted. His head dips down, his shaggy mohawk tickling at your neck as he tugs on the silver barbell through your nipple with his teeth, pain melding with pleasure till they’re impossible to separate. And, oh, fuck, does he have a tongue piercing? Your eyes flick down to his mouth now, mind reeling as you spot the silver stud on his tongue revealed by the way he’s chewing on the cap of the marker. You are losing yourself, and fast, but he doesn’t seem to notice. 

“Alright, looks just about even. Would you go ahead and lie down there, darlin’?” he asks, cocking his head towards the reclined padded chair next to him. 

Now is where the nerves are starting to kick in, it’s all fun and fantasizing about your body piercer until you actually have to sit in the chair. You were hardly able to mentally fawn over the pet name as you took unsure strides to situate yourself in the cold, plastic parlor recliner. Matty busies himself with preparing various metal objects while you stare up at the ceiling, squinting at the fluorescent lights and wondering why you wanted your tits pierced so badly in the first place. Then, his unreasonably darling face is in your field of vision, peering down at you with a consoling smile.

“Comfy?” he prompts, a needle in one hand and a small pair of forceps in the other.

It’s not a comforting sight, no matter how lovely the man holding them is. 

“Sorta. I’m actually kind of a chicken about these things,” you admit with a wobbly smile in return.

“No… really?” he grins boyishly, clearly being sarcastic with you. 

You shoot him a look for that, but it melts away into a little laugh, you can’t seem to even fake a cold stare around him, it’s sort of pitiful. Standing over you, Matty raises the forceps close to your breasts but doesn’t touch you with them just yet. You bite your lip, lifting your head to get a better look at what’s happening, even though you’re not entirely sure you even want to watch. 

“Now, this is just going to feel like a little pinch, shouldn’t hurt,” he says, his voice lowering a little before he slips in a: “You’re doing really good.”

The praise tears your gaze away from his hands and onto his face, blinking in disbelief at the way he’d caused a fizzling pang of desire inside you so effortlessly. That feeling doesn’t get any weaker the moment you feel the cool metal clamp around your nipple, your lips parting with a soft gasp, hands tensing with the urge to hold onto something, to hold onto him. Matty’s pierced tongue darts out past his lips in concentration, soothing over his bottom lip as he lines the needle up next to the hardened bud. You jolt at the sharp tip of the object against your sensitive skin, your hand shooting out to grab onto Matty’s bicep in a moment of pure reaction. Both of you seem equally shocked that you’d suddenly clutched his arm, your nails slightly biting into his skin amongst the spattering of pretty freckles that mark him. There’s a moment of the loudest silence you’ve ever heard, his stare feels like it’s searing you. You’re about to rush into apologizing, but then he’s placing his tools back down onto his tray of supplies, tentatively reaching to rest his larger hand over yours, enveloping it in a way that makes your heart skip a beat.

“It’s alright, sweetheart, I’m just lining up my shot. I’m gonna tell you when it’s time, okay? Just breathe with me for a moment,” he reassures, his thumb rubbing tenderly over the back of your hand. 

He takes an exaggerated breath, encouraging you to do the same, his chest rising beneath his white tank top. You mirror Matty, taking a deep breath in of, well… him. He smells like a dizzying combination of Marlboros and woody aftershave because of course, he does.

“That’s it, much better. It’ll be a whole fuckin’ ordeal if you pass out on me, so stay with me here. Can you do that?” he questions, raising his eyebrows at you. 

“Yeah… yeah, I can. Thank you,” you say softly, trying to disregard the sparks radiating under Matty’s palm. 

You stay like this for a few breaths longer, Matty doesn’t look away from you and you’re not so sure that it’s only because he doesn’t want you to conk out. His gloved hand gives yours an encouraging squeeze before letting go slowly. The heat still lingers as he retrieves his tools a second time, the flexing of his bicep under your grasp reminds you that you should probably let go of him now. But, the moment you start to retract your hand, he glances at you and speaks in that silky tone of his.

“You don’t have to let go, s’okay. You can use me like a stress toy, or something. I don’t really care,” he shrugs, winking at you. 

You just nod dumbly, your eyes going a little wider as you settle your hand over his bare arm again, right over the top of his Newcastle United seahorse tattoo. You’d like to use him in other ways too, but that’s not very appropriate, now is it? 

You let out a sigh as you come to the same point in the process again, Matty lining up the needle diligently while keeping your nipple clamped with the metal forceps, but this time, you get to cling to his arm. You don’t want to distract him, because it would be your loss in the end, but there is a sense of satisfaction when you feel his bicep flex slightly as you trace your thumb along the symbol inked on his skin, following the curve of the seahorses mane with your nail. 

“Okay, love. Here’s what’s gonna happen, I’m going to do it on three, and when I say three, I need you to take a sharp breath in for me, like this,” he instructs, then shows you what he means with a harsh inhale through his nose. 

You breathe out a weak “okay”, already gripping his arm harder from the anticipation building up to a high. You decide it’s best not to watch, especially since you’d promised you wouldn’t pass out. You let your head rest back against the chair, your nose scrunching as you squeeze your eyes shut tightly. Matty begins to count down, increasing the pressure of the clamp. 1. 2. 3. You inhale sharply through your nose at the same time that an unprecedented amount of burning pain reverberates through your chest, your eyes snapping open. You’re clawing at his arm, a cry ripping past your lips while tears well up and blur your vision. It’s a feeling so intense that it’s seeping through you to your stomach, crawling like the meanest sunburn. Of all the piercings you’ve gotten, you can say without a doubt that this takes first prize for the most painful.

“Oh, fuck!” you sob, the sound being embarrassingly close to a full-bodied moan. 

Matty slides the jewelry through while swiftly retracting the needle, trying to stifle the way the sound you’d made was affecting him, echoing in his skull in a way he knows it shouldn’t. He doesn’t even flinch despite the way your nails are leaving angry, red crescents marred on his skin. He quickly screws the barbell together before completely retracting his hands from you, taking one more glance at his handiwork before consoling you, his heart seemingly aching for the pretty girl in his chair.

“I know, I know. Hurts like a bitch, but you’re halfway done. Doing so good, you’re alright,” he murmurs, reaching the gloved back of his hand to your face to wipe some of the stray tears on your cheeks.

You just whine, the radiating pain only now starting to subside as you keep your hold on his arm, now smoothing over the marks you’d left with your fingertips as if you’re kissing them better. His thumb grazes along your cheek for a little too long for it to be accidental. Matty’s praise while he wipes away your tears is making your mind fuzzy, it’s like he’s numbing the pain; the sweetest morphine. 

Your gasps for breath are slowing, the pain like a dull pulse, easing its grip on you. Mortification is starting to sink in now that you’re not reeling from shooting pain. One of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen just watched you in one of your most vulnerable moments, and there’s still one piercing to go, much to your dismay. 

“Fuck, this is embarrassing,” you admit with a breathy laugh at your own expense. 

“Nah, don’t be embarrassed. You could’ve done much worse, probably,” he says, looking amused as he shakes his head at you.

“Like what?” “I dunno… like, socked me in the face as a fight or flight response.”

You laugh at that, a bright sound filling the room that makes Matty’s smile grow fonder as he gazes down at you with those pretty, sparkly eyes. The moment lingers on for a few beats, tension blooming between you that almost makes you forget about the throbbing ache of your left breast (almost). 

“You do know I have to do the other one right? Unless you’re a bit odd and like the one-piercing look,” he reminds cautiously over the clinking metallic sound of him picking up his tools. 

“I know,” you sigh, “can you do it fast?” 

“Erm… I’ll do it as quickly as I can without making it cockeyed, but I reckon you’ll be fine. Besides, the second one’s always easier from what I’ve seen.”

He doesn’t seem like the type that would elude you for the sake of false security, so you take his word as gospel, settling in to prepare yourself for what’s hopefully a more tolerable experience. His next words have your heart thrumming against your ribs.

“Can you handle it?” he asks, more of a challenge than a question.

You nod at him quietly, absentmindedly drawing little feather-light swirls on his bicep. The incentive of his praise is becoming all too tempting. You want to handle it, you want to show him that you can do it. There’s a new, honeyed kind of heat seeping into your bones. 

“Good girl. You’re a strong one, love,” he praises, sensing just how eager you are.

The next pulse you feel doesn’t come from your chest. Good girl? He has to be fucking with you. Jesus, does he talk to all of his customers like this? Does he wipe all of their tears too? Something in you wants to believe he doesn’t. He watches as your lips part slowly, your lashes fluttering as you look up at him. You have to know.

“Do you call all your customers that?” you whisper, blinking up at him coyly.

“Not really, no. Only the pretty ones who deserve it.”

Your breath comes out as a shudder, it’s unfair how easily he leaves you stunned. He clicks his tongue casually before getting back to work, all too pleased by the look on your face. You know the routine by now, Matty makes quick work of clamping your nipple and arranging the prodding tip of the needle just so. You’re still clinging to his arm, or your personal stress toy, something you’ve grown very familiar to the feel of throughout your time here. The countdown starts, he’s not giving you as much time to prepare. 1. 2. 3. What was more like a shriek from earlier comes out as a whine this time, a high-pitched, whimpery noise spilling from you. You don’t curse or practically maul his arm this time, but it’s still painful, you can’t say you’re fond of how vividly you can feel the needle go in and out amidst the burning sting. 

“Beautiful, atta girl,” he whispers, screwing the end of the barbell on before leaning back to admire his work, his eyes unabashedly glued to how the jewelry sits prettily on your breasts.

You have no clue if he’s talking about you, your tits, or the job he’d done, but it makes your skin warm all the same. 

Finally, you allow yourself to look at your chest, gently sliding your hand off of his bicep to prop yourself up on your arms and get a good look at the two new adornments. Shit, they look good on you, better than you’d hoped, and perfectly symmetrical thanks to him. He smirks when he notices the way you’re gawking at the piercings, knowing that the pain is barely a thought in your mind now, too distracted by how newly desirable you must feel. Matty likes knowing that one, he’s good at his job, and two, that he’s just helped you feel sexier. He’s really enjoying watching you admire yourself and in turn, his work. There’s a slight stir beneath his baggy pants, which he knows should never happen while he’s with a client, but you might just be the sweetest thing that’s ever been in his chair. He’s allowing himself a pass.

“Shit, Matty, they’re really nice,” you gape, your stomach swooping when you glance up to see the smug look playing on his lips.

“Yeah, they came out mint. Suit you nicely, don’t they?” he says, daring to dance along the line of being unprofessional as he then glances down at your tits and whistles. 

What a boy.

“Thank you… for everything I mean.”

“Don’t mention it, you were great,” Matty smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he waves off your gushing.

Butterflies are rampaging in your stomach, god, why does he have to be so lovely? He looks like he has something he wants to say, but it goes unspoken, rattling around in his head instead. His expression is hard to read, but would you be deluding yourself to say there’s a tinge of longing? A few beats of quiet tick by, and you’re now becoming acutely aware of the fact that you no longer have a reason to be topless, awkwardly crossing your arms. Always so attentive, Matty suddenly straightens up and reaches over your body, his chain dangling in front of your face as he grabs your shirt and bra from the counter. He places them on your lap and politely turns away as if he’s never seen you undressed, clearing his throat like that will clear the thick tension in the air. 

You wince as soon as the cups of your bra meet your immensely tender breasts, sucking in a sharp breath through your teeth as you power through clasping it. The sensitivity is something you’d been warned about, and now you get to joyfully experience it firsthand for the next however many weeks. Your eyes are on Matty’s back as you slip your shirt over your head, taking note of how rigid he seems as he gathers the after-piercing care papers for you. But maybe it’s in your head. You haven’t known him very long at all, it’s a dangerous game to assume any of the tension of this afternoon was real when you were freaking out for more than half of it.

“Right, any questions for me?” he asks, striding over to hand you the pages.

Are you single?Can we go out?Should we make out right now?How are you real?

“No, I think I’m alright.”

“Okay, well, if you’re not woozy, you can go ahead and stand up when you’re ready,” he says, clasping his hands together as if he’s wrapping up his job well done. 

With the care pamphlet in one hand, you start to slowly swing your legs over to the side, noticing the way Matty stands at attention like he’s ready to catch you if your legs give out. But they don’t, you’re able to stand with minimal wobbles, shaking out your hands to try and relax your poor, recovering body. 

The walk back to the front of the parlor is quiet, the both of you trying to grapple with the tension you couldn’t quite leave behind in the chair. There’s not much else to say, is there? You’re both standing next to the door now, and Matty retracts one of his hands from within his pockets to hold it out to you. Nothing says “I just blurred the lines of professionality while piercing your tits and now this is goodbye” like a good old handshake, does it? You try to keep your expression neutral even though this all feels quite bittersweet, grasping his hand with a firm shake. It’s the first time you’ve felt his hand without the latex glove between you, they’re soft, but you can tell he works with his hands, the callouses on his fingertips grazing your skin.

“Lovely to meet you, sorry I wasn’t a chick,” he chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, you too. And don’t worry about that, I’m glad it was you,” you reply, perhaps being a little too sincere, but it feels right to say. 

“... well, listen, get home safe, alright? Take care of yourself, call if you have any problems,” he says, once again seeming like he’s biting his tongue, keeping himself from saying something to you. 

You reach for the handle of the door, but you don’t open it. You look back at him like you’re giving him one more chance to tell you what you’re hoping to hear, but he doesn’t, he just offers a nod with an unreadable expression on his face. Heartache.

“See you, Matty,” you nod in return, opening the door and shutting it behind you.

You evaluate your situation on the walk back to your car. You’ve rid yourself of the urge to get your tits pierced, and they look fantastic, but your new problem is that you have a massive crush on your body piercer that you’re likely never going to see again unless you get another piercing. It’d be a rather expensive hobby to get a piercing just to see his face, so scratch that. Your only option is to be reminded of him every time you take your shirt off, how miserable is that?

Little do you know, the moment the shop door closed behind you, Matty groaned with his face in his hands, mentally kicking himself for not asking you out, or at least getting your number. Sure, you were a client, he had to be careful, but shit, you weren’t just any client, now were you? What was wrong with him? Something about you left the body piercer stiff and tongue-tied, replaying every moment of your encounter back in his mind. Never in his life had Matty Healy felt anything for a customer.

—---One month later—----

After a hellish month of healing, scabbing, and getting your piercings caught on things, you’ve decided that there’s no real point in having nipple piercings if no one gets to see them but you. You’d like to tell yourself that you don’t think about Matty as much anymore, but that would be laughably dishonest. Dating apps are just about one of the most aggravating wastes of time ever, and you’ve had no luck meeting people naturally, so here comes the next best thing: blind dates. Your close friend fancies herself to be somewhat of a matchmaker, she’s been talking up this guy to you for days now, telling you how funny and totally your type he is, and nothing could possibly go wrong if she set you up. You have your doubts, but still, you find yourself in a cafe waiting for your mystery man to sweep you off your feet with his supposed punchy one-liners. What you don’t expect, however, is to watch a very familiar mohawked man stride into the place, the eyes that have patronized your dreams every night scanning across the cafe until they lock onto you. 

—----------------------------------------------

Don’t you worry, I won’t leave you hanging with just tension, ofc there’s going to be a smutty part two <3

Thank you very much for reading, I hope it wasn’t underwhelming! And thank you to any other writers that I reached out to to consult about my ideas, ily, mwah!

[tumbleweed-run]

Stand Still

(18+, Explicit) Kinktober day 5: sweat

You lay on your bedroll idly watching the clouds roll by above you. There were about three thousand things you should be doing right now but the message that you should get up was not actually traveling from your brain to your body. You were tired. Tired in a way that made it likely you’d end up curling up where you lay, armor and all, and falling asleep. 

There were still a few days until you reached Baldur’s Gate even at the breakneck speed you were all traveling at. Normally the first in the group, leading the way, but today after lunch you’d ended up falling behind. Your legs ached and between the pace your companions were keeping, the sun, and your armor you were sweating. 

Eventually, the distance between the new head of the pack, Karlach, and the last of you grew large enough that new safety concerns were brought up. The road had been forgiving so far in terms of ambushes but that didn’t mean you could let down your guard. So it had been decided with only minimal fuss from Lae’zel that you would make camp even though the sun was still high in the sky. 

A shadow passed over your face and you started, your eyes which you hadn’t realized you’d shut flew open. You sighed in relief to see Gale standing above you, body blocking the sun from your face. 

“Need assistance?” He asked one hand wildly gesturing towards you. 

Your eyebrows scrunched together until you realized he was referring to your armor. “I need a week's rest and a bath,” you groaned as you sat up.

“Unfortunately I cannot help you with the former, the latter however,” Gale began as he offered a hand to help you up,” there’s a stream not far off. In fact, Shadowheart is just back from washing up.

You took his hand and allowed yourself to be pulled to standing. Glancing over his shoulder you saw that Shadowheart had indeed bathed, long dark hair hanging damply around her. 

You sighed heavily, “not the warm soak I was hoping for but it will suffice.”

There was a quick stop at Gale’s tent to gather soaps and fresh clothing. There you also pulled off your armor leaving you standing in just your breeches and undershirt. Despite the warmth of the day you shiver slightly as a light breeze caressed all the places where your shirt was stuck to your body with sweat.

The stream was perhaps closer in size to a small, slow-moving river. The water was clean and clear with plenty of brush and trees obscuring banks from the camp beyond. There were large rocks jutting from the water, smooth and worn from times when the water had breached its boundaries. 

Eagerly you pulled off your boots and seated yourself on a rock, feet dangling into the cool water below. You hadn’t bothered to roll up the bottoms of your pants and the water was slowly soaking up them to your knee. It didn’t matter, everything was going to need to be washed anyway. 

The sun was briefly blocked again as Gale joined you on your rock. He sat behind you, legs bracketing yours. Though he’d taken the time to shove the ends up to the bend of his knees. You idly watched his leg hair dance in the current as he shifted behind you to find a comfortable spot. 

Without thinking, you leaned back against him seeking to take advantage of these few extra moments of rest. You winced and scrambled to sit back up when the dampness of your shirt met with his relatively dry one. 

“Sorry, I should probably actually bathe before trying to cuddle,” you apologized. 

One of Gale’s arms snuck around you, pulling you flush against him. “I will have you any way you’ll let me,” he said pressing a kiss behind your ear. 

A giggle forced it’s way from your mouth. 

He sighed, theatrically behind you, heaving shoulder jostling you. “I did not mean it that way,” he grumbled.

“I know,” you assured, raising a hand and squeezing his arm that was still drawing you back against him. 

“Although,” Gale’s voice was teasing though he buried his head into the crook of your neck.

You laughed again, “aways so kind, even when I’m gross.”

“You are far from gross,” Gale argued and then as if to make a point you felt his tongue trace a quick path from just below your ear to the collar of your shirt. 

You ineffectively attempted to squirm away, but he held you tight.

“How many times must I remind you that I am quite fond of your musk,” he mumbled, mouth still pressed against the skin of your neck. 

“I wonder if that stretch of celibacy got to you,” your turn to tease now. 

Gale chuckled, the force of it vibrating against you. “You, my love, are what’s gotten to me,” he insisted pressing a kiss to your skin. 

His arm finally dropped from where it held you to your thigh, kneading into the muscle gently. 

“Gale, in daylight?” You gasped in mock affront. 

Another chuckle and this time you found yourself arching to neck to allow his lips more space to roam. 

“Perhaps I already made it clear to the others to remain in camp.” He began trailing kisses over every piece of exposed skin. 

You smiled at that revelation. Maybe you should have been offended at his presumption but you weren’t. Gale frequently went out of his way to ensure your privacy even when it didn’t benefit him. 

His hand had traveled up your thigh, fingers gently playing with the laces. You rested your hand on his before plucking the tie open. Taking that as his permission Gale quickly loosened them before diving his hand inside.

He didn’t bother trying to get beneath your smalls, instead opting to rub against you over them. Your legs spread almost instantly, one leg hooking over the top of his. 

“Fuck,” you moaned arching your hips up against his hand. You an arm snaked around the back of his head, holding him into your neck as you rocked. Gale didn’t protest. Instead, he alternated between pressing gently sucking kisses and lapping small stripes with the tip of his tongue. 

With each rock of your hips you felt him hardening against you which only spurred you on. He was absolutely insane the sole rational part of your brain suggested, finding you attractive in this state. It didn’t matter though, his body wasn’t lying and you couldn’t help but love him for all his oddities.

Gale withdrew his hand and you moaned at its loss. 

“Up,” he insisted patting the side of your hip. 

Reluctantly you let him go and stood, twisting so you could brace your hand on his shoulder as you did. When you were standing he guided you, with an impatience you couldn’t help smile at, to turn so you were facing him. 

He was quick to help you shimmy from your breeches, glaring at you only a little as you both struggled with the damp legs. They were briskly discarded in the direction of the bank though you didn’t know if they’d actually made it. Your smalls were next to be shimmied down and then tossed. Until you were left standing naked from the waist down before him. 

He grabbed you by the hips and pulled until you were straddling him so close you could feel his puffs of breath on your cunt. 

“Shit,” you breathed, hand instinctively clutching at his hair. 

He balanced you with both hands on your ass, forearms bracing your thighs as he drew you in to close the gap. Gale’s mouth was on you with no further warning, tongue darting out to press between your folds. He was lapping everywhere not just your clit where you desperately wanted him. You wanted to drag him there but the way his fingers flexed against your ass told you he wasn’t going to allow you to direct this. 

That final ration part of your brain, the one slowly suffocating as the words Gale and please became the only things you could thing, realized you were standing precariously on a rock. One wrong move and you’d go flying into the water below. At least it was deep enough you weren’t likely to get seriously hurt if you did. 

Gale’s teeth ghosted across your clit causing all other coherent thoughts to flee from your brain. You were reduced to moans and whimpers as you ineffectively rocked your hips against his face begging him to do it right. You knew he could have had you coming by now which meant he was torturing you for fun. 

“Please,” you whimpered. 

Then he drew back. You seriously considered violence until your eyes met his. He held your gaze for a moment before slowly leaning back in, continuing to watch you. When his tongue pressed between your folds this time, he was serious. He alternated between sucking at your clit and pressing maddening circles around it with his tongue until you were all but trying to climb onto his face. 

When your orgasm rolled through you, hands gripping into Gale’s hair to keep his face in your cunt, you shouted loud enough it was likely those back at camp heard. Your thighs shook until you collapsed. Gale skillfully guided you down so you were straddling his lap. 

“I swear if you don’t fuck me right now, I’ll die,” you threatened through your panting, pussy clenching around nothing still. You needed him inside you.

“Insatiable,” Gale laughed as he quickly undid his own trousers. 

There was a few moments of awkward shifting as you refused to leave his lap but needed his pants pushed down. When finally his cock sprung free you grasped it greedily, shuffling forward on your knees. Gale realized what you were doing too late, hand reaching your hips to stop you as you already slid down on him completely.

“You’re going to hurt yourself, you’re too impatient,” he chastised hands pinning your hips to his, forcing you to give yourself time to adjust. 

You rolled your eyes at him, you’d been so wet there’d been hardly any resistance when you lowered yourself. Now you wanted to rock, you wanted so badly to fuck yourself on him that you were growing frustrated with him. 

Maybe it was the low growl that rolled from your throat that got him to release your hips, or maybe he too was finally growing impatient. But he released you and almost immediately you raised up on your knees just to sink back down his full length again. 

As you selfishly sought to continuously fill yourself with him, not interested in finding a rhythm yet, Gale set to work divesting you of the rest of your clothes. 

“Gods,” he groaned pressing a kiss to one of your nipples, “I cannot wait to take you home and make you ride my face for hours.”

The image that took up residence in your brain had your hips stuttering, suddenly now interested in finding a rhythm that would please both of you. His hands went to your hips in an effort to aid you this time and you let him guide you. 

He buried his face between your breasts, tongue tracing strange patterns. Curious you looked down and realized you’d begun sweating again and he was chasing the little beads that had dripped down your chest. You groaned hips rolling. 

“You’re insane,” you told him breathily. 

For once Gale had no response. He did allow his mouth to wander until his lips found your nipple again. He pulled it into his mouth and you moaned, head falling back. Your hand came to rest at the back of his neck, anchoring both of you. 

In that moment you could almost forget the tadpoles, the elderbrain, and the dead three. You could just exist in this space with Gale, his fingertips digging ever so slightly into your hips with each thrust, the sun beating down on your closed eyes. You wanted to remain here, like this, forever. 

The coiling in your belly quickly reminded you that moments never lasted. 

“Fuck, Gale, please,” you whined not sure what you were asking for.

He understood nonetheless. He took over then, fucking up into you. Hips snapping into yours in earnest. Each time it seem his cock buried deeper into you. You cried out pressing a hand between the two of you, fingers immediately going to rub against your clit. 

“Shit,” you cried, second orgasm crashing into you almost instantly. You lost balance toppling forward onto Gale. He held you tight, hips bucking up into you wildly now. With a groan he came, pulsing inside of you. 

After a moment he laid back in a move that was more of a collapse, bringing you with him. He tilted his hips in an effort to stay inside of you as you laid against his chest. Both of you trying to catch your breath. 

[planetpedri]

Strawberries — Marc Guiu.

Pairing: Marc Guiu x Fem!Reader

Summary: As a strawberry enthusiast, you never share them with anyone, not even your best friends. So when you, without hesitation, hand Marc one the second he asks, your best friend cannot help but point it out.

Disclaimer/s: This is high school based!

A/N: I Love You Marc Guiu. You Will Be Mine…….. part two !

Sitting down at the lunch table in between your friend, Alana, you pull out your lunch box. Today had been exhausting to say the least and you were just glad to have the thirty minute break to munch on your favorite snack, strawberries.

Alana glances at you, an amused look on her face as she reached over to snag one of the fresh berries. Your reflexes kick in immediately, hand jolting to swat the tan girls hand far away from them.

Wincing, Alana draws back, “hello!?”

Laughter escaped Lamine’s muth at the typical interaction, only dying down once Marc and Héctor finally make their appearance.

You force a conversation change, bringing up how annoying your maths teacher is. As the topics moves along and you finally come to realize he, Marc, was sitting right alongside you, his thigh grazing yours. Your face flushes slightly as you clear your throat, trying to engross yourself with the conversation at hand.

All too aware of his effect on you, Marc leans into your side. “Can I have one?” He asks, a smile on his face as he does so.

Consumed in your ever growing heart rate, you nod, grabbing not one, but two of the red berries and setting them down in front of the boy.

Thats when the table goes silent. Everyone’s eyes flicker between you and Marc, all eyebrows quirked. “Did anyone else just…” Héctor speaks slowly, his index finger motioning between you two.

Your face burns a bright red as you glance at Marc, watching him bite into the strawberry with a smirk. He was enjoying this.

“Oh, so this is insane.” Alana huffs, “just because he’s a little pretty he gets one but not your best friend?”

“A little?” Marc furrows his eyebrows, but is ignored.

You stumble over your words, trying to figure out how to save yourself from this awkward moment. “Uhm—I was just distracted, I didn’t realize–“

Alana tsk’s, “So what? Do I need to get you to fall in love with me too, to get a berry out of you?—Ouch!?”

Kicking the girl under the table twice, you groan. “Alana!” You snap, eyes wide and jaw agape as she’d literally just outed you.

Once again, the table goes silent. A mixture of amusement and tension flooding the air between the five friends.

Héctor is finding it all amusing, Alana is spewing apologies, Lamine is giggling like a school girl, and Marc… Marc is grinning like an idiot.

Your heart is beating irregularly as you avoid Marc’s amused gaze. “I am so not in love with you, do not get any ideas.” You quickly add, beginning to pack up your stupid.. stupid.. strawberries.

A calloused hand covers yours, stopping you from cupping the cover on. Your breath hitches as your eyes fly in Marc’s direction.

“Chillax.” He smiles, a small laugh escaping his perfect lips. “Just eat your strawberries.”

Maybe you could also put a memory forgetting spell on the whole table while you’re at it.

Sucking in a breath of air, you nod. “Right. Totally.”

“Soo..” Alana starts, immediately being shut up by Lamine, who sends her a warning look. “Oh, fuck you.”

“You’re the one who can’t keep her mouth shut!”

While those two begin a rant of insults toward each other, Marc leans in close to your ear, “we’ll talk later.. when we’re alone?”

Your lips form a thin line, “or not..?”

“I’ll meet you in the library during study hall.” He laughs, patting your knee affectionately. And it stays there, for the rest of lunch, both of you smiling like idiots.

DT(s): @halfwayhearted ^_^

[lovableapocalypse]

feels like

bradley "rooster" bradshaw x fem!reader

wc- 2k

warnings- mentions of pregnancy/being pregnant, vomit/throwing up, like one f bomb, established relationship, i dont think anything else

a/n- reader is a pilot lol. hope you all like it and send me any requests you wanna see!!!!

You were tired of vomit. Tired of the smell, tired of the nausea, and tired of the harsh sting it was leaving in the back of your throat. The past three days you had been pulled to consciousness by your uneasy stomach and ended up over the toilet as your alarm blared from the bedroom. 

Bradley has had to leave for training extremely early this week and luckily has missed your ugly morning wake-up call. You’d been subtly avoiding his concerns at work; when you looked queasy after conditioning, when Jake’s body wash scent made you gag, and when you barely touched the coffee he brought you one morning. You played it off as a stomach bug, but your intuition was telling you something completely different.

Thankfully this week had been a zero flight week. You were terrified of flying if your suspicions were accurate, but you were also too scared to take the damn pregnancy test. 

As you walked down the hall Friday afternoon, doing your best to avoid everyone, you made a pact with yourself that you would stop by the convenience store tonight. Bradley was staying late to help with new flight curriculum so you’d have the opportunity to do it alone. 

Part of you wanted to share this moment with him, but your fear quickly overrode that. You and Bradley had been together for years at this point, ever since your first run at Top Gun. He’s mentioned kids a couple times, but never seriously. Deep down you knew he would accept this and be 100% in it, but your anxiety was on blast and your logical thoughts were nowhere to be found. 

You were supposed to be heading to a group meeting, all Dagger Squad members present. Your nausea has been steady all day, and hasn't eased up since you puked your guts up first thing. It’s been miserable and your sweaty, pale complexion are a testament to that. You’re trying your best to take deep breaths as you walk through the humid hallway, but your stomach lurches anyway. You grip the wall nearest to you and clench your eyes shut. 

Deep breaths. In and out. You wait for the pain to subside before you start walking again. You slowly enter the conference room, looking around. Last one here, great. You shoot a small smile in apology and head to the empty seat next to Bradley. 

He gives you a quizzical look as Maverick begins a spiel about next week's itinerary. 

“You okay?” He whispers, brown eyebrows pinched. 

You inhale sharply and nod, reaching for his hand to squeeze in reassurance. He squeezes in return and tries his best to keep his attention on Mav, but your squirming is distracting. It’s too hot in this cramped office space. You swear you can feel each person’s body heat radiate off them, making your head spin. 

Breaths. Deep freaking breaths. You’re trying to concentrate once again on your breathing as Phoenix asks a question, but everything is muffled and distant. You feel Bradley’s eyes seer into you and your jaw clenches unbearably tight. 

This is not happening. You refuse. You’ve made it the whole week without getting sick at work, and you really don’t want your closest colleagues and friends to see you hurl in a tiny trash can. Bradley squeezes your hand tighter trying to grasp your attention, but you just stare ahead and will your body to stop. 

Fuck. There’s definitely no stopping it. You shoot to your feet, pulling your hand from Bradley’s, drawing everyone’s attention. You briefly hear Mav ask if you’re alright and your hand quickly shoots to cover your mouth as you stumble to the trash can. Your stomach empties and you cough harshly, bent over the small container. You hear chairs screech and boots on the ground and soon feel a familiar hand slide up your back. 

Bradley pulls your hair away from your face with his other hand and continues to rub your back, glancing around the room in concern. Phoenix and Bob shoot him sympathetic looks and Jake’s grimace is clear as day. 

Mav makes his way over to you, cautiously, and shouts at Javy to get a medic. You raise your hand and wave at him, trying to refuse. You cough again, “I’m fine. I’m okay.”

“You just puked y/n.” Bradley states. 

“I know, I know. I’m sorry- just I’m okay now.”

You slowly stand up and Bradley keeps his grip on you, moving you towards a seat. You glance up, cheeks flushing in embarrassment, and see the sympathetic looks sent your way. “Sorry,” You sigh.

Javy returns out of breath with the medic and you can’t help but roll your eyes. “Really, I’m fine.”

“Y/n I think you should go get checked out,” Maverick says, “Rooster, why don’t you go with her.” He nods his head towards the door and motions for you, Bradley, and the medic to leave the conference room. 

Bradley keeps his grip on your elbow as you walk slowly toward the med bay. The medic is asking you basic questions that you are trying your best to answer as vaguely as possible. When you enter the med area you begrudgingly let the medic take your temperature and check your vitals. 

“Everything looks okay. I’d just get some rest and head to urgent care if your symptoms get any worse.” 

You’re grateful the medic didn’t mention pregnancy and you nod in appreciation as they exit the small exam area. 

Bradley sighs and places his hands on his hips. “Let me take you home, honey. Get some sleep.”

You shake your head, “No Roo it’s okay, I promise. You have to stay late anyway.”

You’re avoiding his gaze as a lump forms in your throat. You’re not sure why you feel so emotional all of a sudden, but with barely any sleep and vomiting up everything you eat, you’re exhausted. You feel tears prick your waterline as Bradley steps closer to you. 

He reaches up and cups your face. It wasn’t always like this. You and Rooster are both stubborn to an unhealthy degree, and when you two got off on the wrong foot all those years ago you never imagined this. He rubs his thumbs over your cheeks, examining you with his eyes. 

“What’s going on? You’ve been off all week.” His voice is soft and it only makes you more emotional. 

You close your eyes and feel the first tears escape down your face. “I think I’m pregnant.” You whisper.

You keep your eyes shut as you hear him inhale. He grips your face tighter, willing you to open your eyes. When you finally open them, he’s smiling. 

“You’re pregnant?”

You shake your head, “I’m not sure yet. I haven’t taken a test yet, but I’ve been sick all week and I can’t remember when my last period was.” You sigh. 

His smile only grows. Of course he would be excited. You’re not sure why you were convinced he would be pissed or upset. His reaction only makes you cry more and he tugs you closer into the warmth of his chest. 

He presses a kiss to the top of your head and steps back, helping you off the exam bench. “Let's go home, yeah?” He asks. 

You nod solemnly and thread your fingers through his, heading to the exit. Bradley lets Mav know you’re sick and he’s taking you home, planning to finish the flight course next week. He helps you into his Bronco and secures your seatbelt for you. He kisses you lightly before closing the door and heading around the car.

On the way back to your shared place he detours to the nearest convenience store and parks out front. Turning to you he says, “I’m gonna run in and grab a few tests. Do you want to come in?”

You shake your head and lean back against the seat letting it absorb your exhaustion. He’s quick inside and jogs back out to the car with a full bag.

“I didn’t know which one to get so I just grabbed a bunch.” He pulls a few out to show you and you laugh at his eagerness.

He smiles at you and places the bag in the back seat, squeezing your knee as he starts the car again. 

He turns the radio on low as you watch your surroundings pass by. You don’t know how to feel about all this. Are you even ready to be a mom? You glance at Bradley and take in his tanned skin and light blush covering his nose and ears. He’d be a great dad, you already know it. 

You try to shake off some of your anxiety as you head inside. Bradley pulls you close and squeezes your arm, sending you a reassuring smile. You exhale and turn to him, “Will you take it with me?”

“Of course.” He nods and rubs your arm gently. 

You head towards the bathroom with the bag full of tests and Bradley fills a cup of water for you. You’re examining all the different tests when he enters and comes up behind you. He rests his head on your shoulder and reads the boxes with you. 

You grab the test with the electronic Pregnant or Not Pregnant answer and a generic 2 line test as well. Bradley sits with you the whole time anxiously squeezing any part of you he can touch. You place the tests near the sink and set a timer on your phone. 

You both sit in a comfortable yet tense silence. You can tell Bradley is more excited than you are but he’s doing his best to keep himself calm. The phone rings cutting off your anxious thoughts and you both stand together to look at the results. 

You grab the line test first seeing two very visible solid lines. You quickly grab the other which coincides with a bold Pregnant flashing at you. You close your eyes and pass the test to Bradley, feeling the waterworks begin. 

He gasps slightly and puts the test back on the counter. He laughs as he turns you to face him, “Hey, hey it’s okay. Everythings gonna be fine,” You can hear the smile in his voice as your tears fall faster. 

“We’ll figure it out, okay? Hey, look at me.” He cups your face again, your eyes opening to meet his. 

“We’re gonna figure it out.” His smile spreads, “We’re gonna be parents holy shit.” You laugh at his excitement and pull him into an embrace. 

“We’re gonna be parents.” You mumble into his shirt. 

The next morning you head to a local clinic just to get a medical test and see if everythings okay with the baby. You’re given the all clear and relative timeline of birth and growth and everything seems so surreal. Bradley is beyond excited and it’s starting to rub off on you. He spent the whole night reassuring you and brainstorming possible names. 

The doctor did let you know that flying is off limits. You feel a bit sad at the loss of flying, but know Mav will keep you busy in other ways. You keep reminding yourself this as you head to his office Monday morning. Bradley and you are hand in hand, him excited to break the news. You knock and hear a muffled “Come in” on the other side. You exhale and squeeze Bradley’s hand as you push the door open. 

“Hey y/n, Bradley.” He nods. “Feeling better?” He places the paperwork he was looking at down and looks between you both. 

You glance to Bradley who quickly nods his head, urging you on. “About that.” You turn back to Mav’s confused expression continuing, “Um, Bradley and I actually have something to tell you.”

Pete remains silent, questioning you both. 

“I’m, uh, not gonna be able to fly for a while.”

His brows furrow, mouth opening to object, but you beat him to it. 

“I’m pregnant.”

His mouth drops in shock and Bradley laughs at his expression. 

“I- I mean wow. Holy shit!” He laughs. He stands and rounds the desk pulling you into a tight hug and then Bradley. He shakes Rooster’s shoulders as he pulls away and his face is ecstatic. 

“I’ll be damned,” He looks between you both again and shakes his head. You glance at Bradley and smile.

Bradley’s grin is contagious and he shouts, “We’re gonna be parents!”