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bronx-bomber87 · 27 days

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Hello amazing fandom :) I have been itching for this ep since the moment D sent me the ep description for it. I'm glad they didn't spoil much of this ep at all. I have a lot of feelings for this one so might be so mini LOL Off we go.

6x05 The Vow

Oh my lord starting out hot with a romantic dinner and a kiss. Also want to talk about they both light up when they see each other. Like they're still in that honeymoon phase somewhat. They’re both so happy to see each other I wanna die. haha Lucy of course has to question the gift. Saying gift giving is not his love language. Damn they cute. Tim saying he is trying to change things up. I’m squeeing and we’re like less than a minute in everyone.

Damnit he’s so romantic with what the gift is. It’s her radio from last week. Oh my word. Lucy is in awe of this man standing before her. Oh my goodness we get a second kiss I’m squeeing so hard. *screams into a pillow* A thank you kiss no less. Loving how he has his hand wrapped around her arm. Pulling her in close for both misses. You know I should've known this ep was going to hurt with getting two kisses within the span of 3 minutes and a cute ass moment to boot.

Like in a video game where they let you stumble upon a bunch of ammo right before a massive fight scene. You know shit is about to go down with them supplying you like that. How I felt with getting cuteness and two kisses right away. I am so excited Tamara has appeared. Wouldn’t be the return of her if she didn’t cock block them. Tim shaking his head too. Classic. Lucy telling her it’s ok. Also LOVING that they have a pre-planned date night. Be still my heart.

Tim gets his cryptic ass phone call and immediately takes off. Lucy looks crushed for a couple reasons. First that he can’t stay. She was clearly looking forward to a night with her man all day. Second the fact he's so short with her. Breaking my heart 'Just wait.' Her Tim radar is going OFFFF Lucy looks SHOOK with his hasty departure. Her heart just walked out the door and it shows.

Oh my word I knew It would be from his military past. The blind spot for the most part we have with his character. I was hoping it would be. The Tim fan girl in me is psyched af. I was thinking who is this Ray and why is Tim so spooked? Then we find out this dude killed their friends and there’s a promise.... Uhhhh the promise is to kill him? Uh Timothy, my love you are a cop….

Oh Lucy is anxious af without him. Ugh she knows something is wrong immediately. Knows this man too damn well. Side tangent about to start. I know some people complained how long it took for them to get together blah blah. BUT I wasn’t. These moments right here are exactly why.

The fact that the very second he took that call she knew deep in her gut something was wrong with him. That is not a connection you get with someone overnight. That is years worth of working together, leaning on each other, learning about one another and seeing each other through a lot of things together. That connection and instinct on someone is built over time.

The beautiful recipe they have now wasn’t ready till we got close to it in s4 and even then they still had some tweaking to do before we reached S5. That being said I love her missing him. My guess is other than 6x01 they’ve scarcely spent a night apart. Also her Tim radar is going bonkers right now. She looks so sick to her stomach when she hangs up.

Tim seeing Lucy’s call going off and not being able to answer. It's clearly killing him. We see him take a beat and a deep breath. Clearly doesn’t want to be here rather be there with her. Last thing he wanted was his date night interrupted. Also she is his ‘go to’ for pretty much everything. You know its actively tearing him up to not answer her.

Oh my he was called the 'Reaper'? Holy hell why is that so attractive? Everything with Tim usually is. But hot damn that being his nickname in the service? I am fanning myself. Idk if that's wrong but I am haha But it does give us insight to who he was in the service tbh. You don't get called 'The Reaper.' without good reason.... Why Greer thinks Tim is going soft on him.

I do love Tim reinforcing the law also very attractive oh my goodness. You tell ‘em love. I don’t love this guy guilting Tim into keeping this pact. He’s SOOOOO loyal he’s gonna keep to it. Even at his own detriment. The man shoulders SO MUCH he already doesn't need to. Ugh Tim saying they’ve built lives. Yes you have. With Lucy. The love of your life you walked away from tonight to be here right now. After this chat I knew this ep was going to hurt so good. I could feel it.

The jokes in the car are cute was hoping he’d ask Tim about Lucy. Sadly we didn't' get this. This whole situation makes me nervous af. God Tim looks extra fine in this episode street clothes on him are a wonder. A delicious one.

My god this list of crimes this guy has done sweet lord. Stole money. Called in an air strike on his own men when they came for him holy shit …Wasn't enough to bury in a shoe box.....fuck they both lied to get Ray’s wife and kid death benefits and if they bring him in it’s a problem.

Crap this is so bad Tim... Saying they’ll get fired from their current jobs and be dishonorably discharged from the service. I’m nervous…this isn’t a good situation. Also not surprised in the least he broke the rules to take care of someone. That empathy of his ran deep before it got buried by his Isabel trauma later on.

First off let me say Eric KILLED ME in this scene. I was tearing up at how tore up he is about all of this. Tim wanting to take the fall.... Damnit Timothy you have a life too. Don't fall on your sword my god imma cry. Tim’s integrity is one of his sexiest traits IMO. I too have a deep sense of integrity drives everyone I work with insane. He’s in tears saying he would arrest him. Oh my word. I'm crying again. Eric killing me softly holy hell. I'm so mad at Greer for putting that on him. I had a bad feeling about Greer the minute he guilted Tim into this side OP.

How dare you put that on my Tim. He already has so much on his soul. A chunk of it not even his fault. The man is a deeper empath than he gets credit for. He absorbs the feelings and pain of those around him and shoulders things he doesn't need to. I'm learning in therapy I do the same thing. My therapist told me one thing to be empathetic. It's another to feel responsible for other's feelings or the outcome of actions I've taken and how it affects others. I feel like Tim is the same way. He's such an empath he's taken that responsibility to the extreme and is carrying things he doesn't need to be.

I wanna hug him oh my god. His sigh when Greer left. My heart. I'm sure part of the reason he's hiding this from Lucy is the shame he feels. This man (Ray) stole half a million from the government then bombed his own people on his watch. Tim breaks the rules to make sure his widow and child are taken care of and its bites him in this ass. There is a reason he was/is so damn rigid as a cop. 'Rules matter boot.' His PTSD in a line. Anytime he has let his guard down and skirted the rules people have been injured (Mitch) or in this case killed. Ugh. My poor boy. The hitch in his breath like he couldn't breath that entire convo. I'm hurting so much for him in this episode.

Poor Lucy kept it together at work but lost it when he finally gets home. That look of hope when he walks through the door then instant anger. ‘Telling me you’re alive is not optional.’ Ugh she’s not wrong....I can only imagine what her anxiety was doing to her until he walked through that door. It's shown in her lines above. Her imagining him bleeding out somewhere.

She is not wrong it wasn't ok he didn't even tell her he was alive. I get why he didn't but he should've. Lucy straight confronting him. Asking him what the actual hell is going on with him? No one knows you better than her. You can't hide what you're going through. Tim of course wants to protect her from being fired and refuses to tell her what he's torn up about. Only alluding to it's serious enough if she knows she will be jeopardizing her standing at work.

Her saying 'Then what are you doing here?' God damn Lucy... telling it like it is. Holy hell. Poor Tim is so taken aback by her response. He breaks my heart when he says 'I came to see you.' Lucy has become his safe place. His comfort zone. So by default he came here to seek that comfort. She is home now and he came home. But she can’t comfort you when she doesn’t know what to comfort you for. This scene hurts to watch. Because he is DYING for her compassion, her warmth and just her. He is denied access because she is setting a boundary with this as she should. Tim needs to share the load with her. To tell her the truth. She is willing to risk her standing for him.

My god if she actually knew she would be kicking herself for how much he needs her right now. But she doesn't know so she sends him away. The tears in both their eyes His 'Understood'. Man is about to cry in front of her. I’m dying. Someone revive me. I’m dead and not in a good way. I’m crying. Eric and Melissa out here crushing it though. Gah Tim would rather blow them up and protect her than not ugh Timmmmmmm I get both sides of this. Tim thinks since this is pre-Lucy and could get her in trouble he needs to bear this alone. When she is begging him to let her share the load of this. Sending him away is her setting a boundary. That he needs to think not just of her but of them. To tackle things together. To stop protecting her.

They’re both hurting in this scene. But the issue at hand still is them only thinking in terms of 'Me' not us. Even though when one of them does this it’s to protect the other. That’s fine and dandy but when it come to them as a whole it’s a problem. Shit hits the fan they eject away thinking that’s the best course of action. It’s been an issue for some time this lack of communication. This is just bringing it to a head. They don’t think how can we tackle this together? They think how can I protect my person from this? Or protect their feelings by lying.

Also think that radio being in this scene was there for a reason. That radio is the representation of Lucy not telling Tim exactly how not ok she was in 6x04. She was so willing to pretend she was ok. And instead of leaning on him. Voicing that so they could tackle it together. She ran into the line of fire recklessly instead to prove herself worthy again. Almost killing herself in the process. Because she was in her head instead of communicating to Tim. These two gonna be death of me...

Wanna hug Lucy. She is desperate for any kind of help. So she reaches out to Nolan. John per usual is completely useless for her in a crisis. Man is as useful as using a fork to eat soup. These are the moments I miss Jackson for Lucy so much. He would’ve had a much better an answer. Then just ‘you're shit out of luck.’ That’s not enough damnit.

Nolan basically saying. "What are you gonna do?' with a shrug. If I could clock you John I would. I don't normally watch the preview for the next ep till I'm done assembling my thoughts. But with this one I couldn't wait. This is why Lucy goes to Angela next week about Tim instead. She needed a real grown up to help her with Tim.

We rejoin Lucy looking at her phone. Trying so damn hard not to reach out. To be the trusting girlfriend for her man. I know we're in a bad spot but Lucy calling Tim 'her man' gah yes please more of that. I am grateful for Tamara. She needs her right now since Nolan is useless af. Lucy is trying so very hard not to spiral out atm. She confronted him and it didn't go well. Lucy is feeling at a loss right now and rightfully so. I adore Tamara for making her laugh in this moment so very much.

The lesson's Tamara has learned is too damn cute. I loved it so much. Lucy needed this moment of levity and her pseudo daughter crushed it. We pan back to Tim also starting at his phone wanting to call. Ugh Tim what are you gonna do babe? You can’t kill him. Can’t turn him in. I feel sick lol Also once again amazing song to close it out. I watch the ep with my gaming headphones on. One because I love hearing Eric’s voice straight in my ears not gonna lie. Don’t judge me ha Also catch onto music more so with them on.

But back to the matter at hand…Now do I think they’re gonna break up cause he’s gonna protect her? I don’t. Their angst since they got together has always been productive. Is it gonna hurt like a son of a bitch before we get there? Yes.

My hope is this drives them to depend on one another more and not just straight protect each other at the detriment of the one they're ironically trying to protect. Better communication which has been an issue for some time. To learn to face these challenges not only head on but hand in hand while they do so. These are the types of things they need to learn before their relationship gets any more serious than it is tbh. So while this hurts like a lot it'll be good for them in the long run.

This season has EXCEEDED my expectations ten fold. If you aren't happy with this season idk what will make you happy tbh. I said the same thing about S5 as well. I cannot wait for next week. Which I am hoping is full of worried/feral Lucy and their reunion and growth from it. Phew feel free to comment any theories or thoughts on my first take thoughts I love them so. Also thank you everyone supporting these mini reviews you're amazing and makes the effort always worth it.

Side notes -non Chenford

Ok Aaron seeing his therapist at the bar excited for him I knew low key there would be something there.

Bailey and John seem so cold I know they’re on duty but even grey held his wife’s hand at the hospital…

Of course Smitty takes his break at a therapist office

Lucy’s joke about Celina omg LOL I'm impressed with such a solid joke when she was low key worried the love of her life was dying in a ditch somewhere...

Also clearly his therapist is a lying liar who lies but how can she not be? She's his therapist and WORK one at that. Be interesting to see how this unfolds.

#Caitlin mini reviews #chenford #s6 #6x05 The Vow #the rookie 6x05 #otp: unless it is #otp: doing my job #tim x lucy #tim bradford #lucy chen #lucy x tim #eric winter #melissa o'neil #the rookie #tim bradford x lucy chen

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itsagrimm · 1 year

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He Who Comes from under the Water

Chapter 9 - Of Moons and Monsters

Monster!König X she/her afab Reader

CN mentions of death, mentions of murder, mentions of cannibalism, arranged marriage, disrespecting and displaying a corpse, ableist language, internalised toxic masculinity, creepy observers with no understanding of boundaries, warning for those who have issues with paranoia, König has issues and needs fairy tale therapy

Not sure how the phases of the moon work? Click here.

Notes for better understanding at the bottom!

Partly beta-read by the amazing @queenquazar. There are typos in there but I need to publish this asap before spiralling into another round of rewriting this for the 10th time. also, thank you so much for baring with me.

6.9k words

Masterlist

this is a hit or miss chapter. love it or hate it. i am ready to throw out my laptop bc this chapter was hard to write.

Oh and I made a playlist for this series. Enjoy.

As the King of Everything from Under the Water, König never grew tired.

As a man, König felt like he was grinding his bones into dust.

The never-ending work started to get to him, eternal weariness was wearing him down like a stone getting chipped away in the currents.

He yawned.

During the day König worked on the Half-Palace. The Half-Palace was getting close to being done, rising up into the sky as high up as it reached down low and deep into the waters. It was a marvel. But König was not done yet, working tirelessly to finish his new residence to finally marry and bring his fiancé home safely.

During the night König guarded his Bride. With his axe in his hands, he stalked her garden, carefully avoiding her strawberry patches and making sure no villager or malevolent creature harmed her. The rumours of a human maiden marrying the Vodyanoy had made its rounds, and König started to see more unusual unwelcome guests creeping in the shadows. Sometimes he found villagers too, boys who turned on their heels just at the sight of König’s giant frame, axe, and piercing deep blue, ever-seeing eyes. Not all the trespassers were clever enough to run away at the sight of him. Twice König used his axe and spilled blood. First time it was a Tschort trying to sneak through the kitchen window. The other time a Kikimora nearly made her way to the Bride’s window. König got to them both in time, killing the intruders with quick blows of his axe and hanging them up in the alder tree around the bride’s house for the night as a warning. The first time his bride cried out at the sight of it, the second time she did not cry anymore.

During the few moments in between when he walked at the lakes beach with her or closed his eyes for a moment, worry consumed any thought in König’s mind. His Bride was fragile. The creeping beings in the shadows wanted her blood, her tender flesh, her inheritance. There was danger everywhere and König started to feel on edge from being on the lookout all the time. In all his life he had experienced worries and insecurities. Now he had learned to fear - for her.

In those moments König wished he could just ignore all tradition and carry her to the half-finished Half-Palace before the wedding to keep her out of the hands of those that wanted to tear and bite and kill and devour her. But then he looked at his own hands - long clawed fingers that could wrap around her neck and break it like a twig or drag her down the deep waters until she was nothing but a lifeless body. The first time that realisation hit him, it had mortified König. He was a danger - just like all the others. And she was just a girl. A girl that managed to get tangled up with him. Baba Jaga’s words still hung over him, telling him he had to sacrifice something to keep his Bride safe. Something deep inside of him knew he had done it wrong, all of it so far. Her fear of water was testimony of it. And so he sacrificed everything for her. But one question remained.

Will it be enough?

Feeling tired and drained, König sighed and made another round to check for danger. For now, no one was there but the moon, rising over the gable of the Bride’s house.

Peaceful, calm, familiar.

König nodded in greeting to the silent lunar wanderer. At least the moon was not out for his Bride. For now.

Of course, the thin slice of the waxing crescent did not nod back.

It was the moon after all.

König let himself fall onto the grass again, leaning against her door and closed his eyes.

A moment, just a moment of rest.

Rest.

Rest…

Sleep was alluring. It called to him like the Rusalkis called for him to return to just being in the water.

Just a little bit...

Just a bit closer…

No harm in it…

With a low “thud” the axe slipped out of his hands, waking König back up from his light short slumber.

König shook his head.

No! He had to stay up. Another Tschort could try to crawl in any moment or Ivar might wipe up the village into a frenzy and come for her. His Bride was so frail in comparison to him, a little maiden and nothing more. Just yesterday she cut herself with a kitchen knife. Or was it tomorrow? Does not matter! One day she would hurt herself again and he had to make sure that would not happen. He could take it, not sleeping and working every moment. His body will withstand. He was a king after all! He was her guardian, her fiancé and soon-to-be husband, her man.

And she was worthy of König to grind himself down as a payback for the life he had condemned her to and the pain he would cause her with his huge hands and sharp claws. Sleep and labour was a necessary sacrifice.

“You are an idiot.”

König looked up, searching for the source of those words.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised. You are an idiot and deep down you know it already.”

König got up from his spot, taking up his axe.

“Who is it! Come out! Show yourself!” The king called.

“I am not hiding myself. You just don’t see what is in plain sight like the fool that you are.”

Confused, König's head whipped around, searching for whoever was talking to him.

“Here, little king. Up!” The voice called. “You are not used to looking up when speaking, aren’t you?”

As told, König looked up while raising the axe in expectation to see a new threat, a new danger, a new assailant.

What he saw instead was the moon.

“Hello.”

König blinked, not understanding how and why the thin lunar sickle was smiling down at him.

“Don’t look so surprised!” the moon scolded with a laughing tone. “You greeted me yourself.”

“How?” König asked, lowering the axe.

“You are asking me how I can speak?”

König considered the moon's words before smiling shyly like a kid getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

“Okay, that’s fair. You can speak just like I can.”

If the moon could nod it would have done so. Somehow König felt like far out in the interstellar realm of implausibility the moon indeed did nod at him.

“Why after millennia of not speaking to me you do now, moon? I greet you twice a day.”

“I grew to like you, little one. And I got bored watching you self-mortifying yourself. It was entertaining for a while until it became the most pointless thing I have witnessed in a long time.”

“What do you mean, Moon? I am not mortifying myself! How would you even know.”

The moon raised an eyebrow at König. Somehow it did that.

“Please. I have better eyes for that than you, little king. I do nothing else but watch and witness.”

Unconvinced, König crossed his arms.

“What do you know about me and my worries?” He countered.

“Only about half of it. I just see you at night.” The moon admitted. “Shame really. You doing everything else but talking to your fiancé is quite the sight.”

“What is there to talk about?” König replied. “Spare me. Everything is clear. She is just a nice girl who ended up engaged with me, so I have the duty to protect her.”

“Sure, little king. Then you would have no issue just crossing that doorstep of hers and telling her that. Sacrifice the facade and just take her to that Half-Palace of yours and be done with it. It’s all just formalities and traditions at this point. You are just concerned for her safety.”

“I am concerned for her safety.”

König gazed around the dark garden. There was the spot where Ivar had threatened his Bride. And the alder tree König had strung up those that had wanted to harm her. And the axe with which nowadays he did as much killing and fighting as he did building.

“That’s all?”

“That’s all.”

XXX

König looked at the Bride’s door. The familiar wooden frame she walked through every day. It would be easy to just open it and go in. Or knock? König felt like she would appreciate a knock before getting dragged out of her family home in the middle of the night in the name of her safety and his pragmatic marital claims.

Up in the night sky the thin moon sickle was grinning at the sight of the fool calling himself King, silent and expectant to watch something - anything - happen.

But it did not.

Not every night was calm and spent in solitude.

A bunch of laughing and giggling Rusalkis decided to join him and the occasionally appearing fox on his guard post. König looked around, seeing the half-moon rise above the horizon. It had been silent ever since that night a while back.

Of course, the Bride was still sleeping in her own house.

Of course, he had not even attempted to move her from it.

They were still unmarried.

It was tradition König told himself.

She would not want to be in the nearby finished castle with him anyway.

“Why so grim dear Vodyanoy?”

Startled, König spinned around, teeth barren and the axe in his hands.

“Easy.” A rusalka straying behind soothingly replied, her hands up.

König stilled.

“Oh it is you, Lada.” He said and lowered his axe, “I am sorry. I thought someone had crept up to me.”

Lada leaned forward. Her pretty eyes gazed up at him as she lowered her hands.

“You know, not everyone is out there to get you or the Devitsa, Vodyanoy. Take a rest. We can guard her in the meantime.”

“No.” He grumbled. “It’s nice that you are here to help, but she is my responsibility to carry. I brought this upon her.”

Curiously, she leaned forward.

“Oh, you do that a lot these days, König.” Her words splashing down her lips like a lively spring, unimpressed by the near display of violence moments before. “Always responsibility. Always offering yourself up like that makes a difference. Tell me, is this spectacle for you or her?”

“It’s not a spectacle.” König replied, moving back from her and crossing his arms before him.

Lada grinned.

“Alright. Sure. Good luck.” She declared and waved a goodbye at him before, jumping back like a firefly raving in zig zag over a pond's water. König watched Lada return to the other Rusalkis, giving a sharp, toothy and nearly careless smile to flirt with the Fox. They seemed so content with chatting in the moonlight. As if stalking and hunting intruders was a Rusalki past-time. Knowing the Rusalkis it probably was.

König suppressed a yawn, unwilling to admit Lada was right. He really needed to take a break. Soon, when he was married and the bride was safe. He would have given anything he had in him then. But until the wedding there was no point of even thinking about rest or the life leisure he had known before.

Was he really that busy all the time?

Unapproachable and lost in his own thoughts nowadays?

König remembered how much time he used to spend with the Rusalkis. Oh, he did. They had played, filling the air with splashed water, with laughter, with moans.

It felt so long ago.

He hadn’t even thought about it.

Would his marriage remove him forever from that part of his life?

He stilled as the realisation hit. It hurt. But only a little.

Thinking about the Bride's little human fingers that tangled his hair, asking him how his day was, telling him about hers pleased him. König had gotten used to the Bride in his life so quickly, he wanted more of it.

But enough to stop lust and satisfy his more carnal desires?

She…

You promised to guard her, protect her, make her your Queen. Nothing else. König reminded himself unhappily and looked up, searching for answers in the night sky.

There were none, only the looming moon.

It was as if the half-moon was watching him with mockery, observing König’s thoughts and temptations.

König grunted.

Fine, maybe she was charming in many ways. He had to admit that to himself. But maybe that was another sacrifice he had to make for the sake of her. König was sure they could find an arrangement at some point. There was little he promised nor expected from her outside of their marriage. But that was for a moment in the future when he had the right words for it.

Until then, his tasks were easy: No sleep, no leisure, no lust.

König tapped on the hilt of the axe. It’s been a couple of days since he had to use it as a weapon and the calm waiting was wearing him down nearly as much as thinking about his forbidden Bride - her clever remarks, her unrelenting will to life, her careful steps around water. If he asked her opinion about his sacrifices she would say something wise. She always seemed to do, giving him little knowing looks over tea cups, over the lake, over hot puffs of breath escaping her lips. And when she spoke her words rang in his ear like music. Melodic syllables falling from her mouth like raindrops and teaching him of the world.

Now the bride's words were siren songs to him.

He sat down into the grass and watched the house of the bride. There she was, sleeping her well earned rest. And he was outside where he belonged with his claws and flaws and desires. He looked up to the sky. Cold stars and the unmoving moon grinned down at him, silent and calm unlike his thoughts. König wondered if it was easier that way, just to watch and never to do. Just to witness but never to participate.

No wonder the moon is a judgy creep.

König frowned, wishing he did not feel drained, unsure and like he had made the wrong decision.

Let them see. I will do right by her - König promised to himself.

XXX

The night was pleasant but cold. It had rained and the now cleared sky and fresh breeze added to the unusually cold summer weather. König was sitting right under the ledge of the roof, watching drops of the previous rain roll down from the leaves and running into little pools of water. It was calming. And with humid weather like that he knew at least no villager would show up, giving him one thing less to worry about.

König heard her steps before he saw her step out into the night. He looked up.

“König.” She greeted with a blanket around her shoulders. “Would you mind company? The full moon is so bright, and the rain kept drumming against the roof. I cannot sleep.”

He nodded before suspiciously eyeing the massive, silent luminary above them.

Creep.

She settled next to him under the dry roof, facing the dark garden and treeline with him.

“Are you okay?”

Her words reached into him and laughed at his convictions. Just hearing her voice made something stir in him.

“There was so little time these past days and we hardly spoke.” She continued. ”Can I help with something?”

König shook his head before even thinking.

His burden, not hers.

“No, Bride. You cannot fight the monsters lying in wait. You can’t even lift my axe.”

The thought of her facing another Kikimora, a Tschort or an angered, disapproving Rusalka terrified him. She did not even have teeth to tear and bite.

“Is fighting the only way to help?”

He looked down at her, the little pretty thing that he spent the day admiring while working and the night desperately trying not to think about.

She pressed her thighs closer to her body for warmth.

Tangled limbs, desperate touches, heated kisses. He could warm her up.

Instead, he lifted his arm and silently invited her closer. No point in keeping her cold.

“Yes, it is but it is unpleasant work, my Bride. We will marry soon, and you will be safe in the Half-Palace. Do not worry yourself.”

She moved closer, pressing herself into his warm body. With a stern look more for himself than to others König commanded the last of the drops on the grass and from the dripping roof not to touch his shivering maiden.

Of course, she did not notice, only purring like a cat before the warming fire.

For a moment they stayed like that as if she was thinking about his words while König closed his eyes for a moment, indulging in it.

“What will happen with my family’s house? I am fond of this place.” She asked finally.

König sighed and opened his eyes.

“Whatever you want, Bride. It is yours and it always will be.” He chuckled grimly. “Maybe you want to stay here every once in a while, when you grow tired of my company.”

“Do you think you are an unpleasant presence to be around?”

“At times.” He admitted.

“I do not.”

“You are too kind.”

“I doubt that.”

There it was again, the banter. She met him exactly at his level, hitting him playfully where he would never expect it. There was a lightness in her words that made him nearly believe her. König could not help but grin to himself while pressing her slightly closer.

“Any idea about the sacrifice?” She asked while leaning into him to cover his massive frame with what was left of the blanket. A cute but pointless gesture.

“I have some ideas,” König resigned. “But there is no way to be sure it is working and I doubt you want to test it.”

She shivered.

“No.” Her voice was thin and frail, hitting him with guilt.

“I think I need to ask my brothers for help.” König continued. ”But I'm not sure that is wise. It could be dangerous.”

She nodded. “I suppose dealing with family can be like that sometimes.”

König stilled, thinking about her words and listening to the drumming sound of the rain.

“Hmm, I suppose you know a lot about that,” He hummed and paused before daring to speak again. “May I ask … are you angry at your family? For marrying you off to me?”

It was as if he was asking the bravest question of all.

She shifted around.

“Sometimes,” She admitted. “It’s hard because till this day I love my family. But to be fair, marrying me off to a stranger was just the last thing of a long line of things that weren’t as well thought through or kind as they might have told themselves. Who knows. They are dead now and I am here. Could be worse.”

He nodded, trying not to feel too much about her words. Marrying him was bearable. König hardly blamed her. Still, it hurt more than he had expected. Was that pain another sacrifice?

“Could be worse.” He repeated flatly.

“Well now you make it sound bad. That’s not what I meant.” She muzzled into him as if she truly wanted to be there.

König closed his eyes, reminding himself not to lie to himself. This was just a practical arrangement for her. For him.

He cleared his throat.

“So, what do you think we should do?” The Vodyanoy changed the subject. “One brother you already know of is Simon. We used to be close but something happened and since then he is like a ghost of himself, moody and withdrawn but capable of kind and terrible things at the same time. It’s hard to know with him. He never formally claimed his kingdom, but everybody knows not to cross the master of the forest, the Leshy.”

The forest turned silent as if knowing that König talked about its master.

“What are the things that make him dangerous to be around?” Her voice was so little in the woodland's silence, so brave to speak.

König swallowed, remembering his days with his brother. They were long gone, lost in a sea of blood.

“Simon taught me how to kill.”

The forest stayed silent, as if trying not to breathe like an animal of prey sensing a possible predator.

“Oh.” Brave like a single flame in the dark she whispered into the night, breaking the silence, and releasing the forest from the dark grip of its master.

“I have other brothers but the one who could help is the deathless one - Koschei, the master of bones and battlefields. Nowadays he goes by the name Graves.”

“Charming. Leaves little to the imagination why he could be dangerous.”

He grunted in agreement.

“That’s quite a family I am marrying into.” The bride paused. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised.”

“Scared?”

She shrugged.

“Only a fool would not fear a brother-in-law who is called deathless or for whom the forest dies down.”

Brave one.

“You do not have to marry me and into this family. You know that, right my Bride?” It felt right to say it and offer her a way out from the terror that was his presence.

She stared into the cold wet forest, unmoving and expressionless.

König wished he knew what she truly thought of right now.

“Do you not want me as your bride?” She asked finally with a flat voice.

Her lips singing the siren song. What does marriage even mean at this point?

“I promised it, did I not?” He said instead.

She nodded, a stony expression on her face.

“So, we stick to it.”

“Aye.”

König felt tired. Like he had run out of words, keeping it short and safe instead of pouring out his heart and burdening her. If only he could rest, lay down next to her and close his eyes.

“You say Simon was here?” The Bride mused. “He was the one to point out the danger to me. If he knew how to get rid of it or wanted to help, he would have done it. But he did not. I don’t think we can count on him here. Which leaves…”

“Koschei.”

König felt the corners of his mouth drop down into a disapproving frown.

He knew she was right. Still…

“Maybe there is a safer, cleverer way to engage with him?” The Bride continued. “He is the Deathless. I am sure he might know something and maybe a simple letter or a messenger will be enough. What do you think?”

Still unhappy, König considered her idea. It was sound. Yet the mere thought of having to ask his brother for help and being in debt to him worried him more than he wanted to admit. Graves always had a thing for pretty girls. And for his Bride to draw the attention of Koschei the Deathless did not only feel like asking for disaster but evoked new fears in König.

What if Graves would like her and do as he had done with many girls before?

A new ugly thought roared its head up.

What if the Bride would prefer Graves over him?

“If i keep practising my writing I can write to him.” His dearest Bride added. “I could ask for his council as a bridal gift. What kind of man would refuse or violate that?”

König took a deep breath. He hated how right she was.

“I could work but-”

“Perfect. Let us do it soon.”

Her voice left him as little room to argue as there was left under the blanket between her and König.

“Fine.” He surrendered like driftwood to the currents.

Instead of pushing for more she just sighed herself, relaxing into him and staring into the dark.

She will just be my Queen. König thought to himself, surprised by his own possessiveness. As long as she is safe, it will be fine. No need to worry more than usual.

She was here, at his side and safe.

Nothing more than someone like him could expect or ask for.

He closed his eyes again to enjoy the feeling of the Bride so close to him before straightening up and concentrating on being on guard again.

She yawned, muzzling closer.

“I might fall asleep here.” She admitted. “Is that a problem?”

“Not at all, Bride.” König replied with a feeling he wasn’t familiar with, “I’ll be there.”

xxx

It felt ridiculous how much König loathed the thought of his Bride meeting Graves. He knew it was unfair, hating what his own insecurities and worries did to him. The Bride had suggested a plan and he was the one not sticking to it, that odd feeling in his stomach stopping him from teaching her how to write or write Graves himself. Instead, König could not help but make excuses.

It’s late…

I am busy right now…

Maybe tomorrow…

König told himself that his worries and reservations were justified. He was just cautious. It was Graves after all, the Deathless, the one called master of bones and battlegrounds. And the Bride was so fragile in comparison to all those monsters and men.

“Just talk to her, boy!” The moon nearly shouted down from its high place one night right before vanishing behind a cloud.

König only shook his head.

The Bride was his responsibility and it was his duty to protect her from the world. That was his sacrifice. It had to be the answer. But then doubt whispered again to him.

Not good enough, Graves will be better for her.

A day passed, a night, another day. The Half-Palace was shaping up and König was dreading to be finished. He would bring her home then, far away from all those who were out for her blood.

But then she would be alone - with him.

Suddenly the axe was looking tiny in his hands, just a simple twig in clawed fingers made to rip and tear and drown.

He felt stuck - he was the reason for her troubles but also the key to her safety. He wanted to keep away but then how was he supposed to guard her? He wanted to marry her and be done with it. But what did marriage even mean for him? For her? Was it the delight in her presence he felt? The excitement of just talking to her? The secret longing to take her deep into the waters and embrace her with everything minor that he was, feeling her bare skin and tangled limbs and bubbles of air escaping her moaning lips and reminding him it would be the death of her.

Confusion dripped more into his tired and worn mind.

He was scared of himself and what he was capable of doing.

But no one could understand what he was anyway.

And so König kept it to himself.

That night he was alone. The Fox had gone home. He had young to play with tonight, he had said, and König had only nodded.

Yeah, yeah, sure, I understand.

Lada and all the other Rusalki left for some rest in the ponds, and rivers and lakes.

Deep down König knew that he needed some break as well.

But he was afraid of leaving the Bride alone or staying alone in the house with her. He was a danger too after all.

Defeated, he sat on his regular spot next to the door, gazing through the garden and hoping for nothing and something to happen at the same time.

The axe in his hand had started to rust a bit from all the blood it had spilled. A long time ago it had been a gift from his brother Simon, back when they were close.

“It does not have to be this painful, you know?”

König looked up, searching for the source of the voice. The garden with its tidy strawberry patches and attempts of growing buckwheat and sunflowers was as untrodden as it had been the last time he made his rounds.

“Still up here, little king.”

König looked up and the thin crescent of the waning moon smiled down softly at him.

König leaned back against the wall of the house.

“What do you want, Moon? I am tired. I don’t need a lecture or getting shouted at again.”

The grand luminary of the night sky stayed silent. König wondered if that was all then and prepared to get up again for another patrol round.

“I am sorry. I should not have done that.”

The Vodyanoy blinked in surprise.

“Is the mighty Moon apologising? To me?”

“Don’t make this harder than it is, little king.”

König crossed his arms but nodded.

“Fine. Your apology is welcome. What do you want, Moon?”

“I just want peace between us. Of all your brothers and the old beings walking this earth I feel the closest you. The waters and I… There is some magic working between us and I felt responsible to say something but I overstepped. That is not how good-”, the moon paused, “Neighbours, let’s say neighbours are supposed to be.”

König huffed.

“You are a creepy neighbour, you know that?”

Moon in its interstellar ways giggled.

“I am the watcher in the night. What else did you expect?”

“Maybe, but I don’t have to like it.”

The moon kept smiling.

“If you ever have children I will watch them and keep them safe just like I watch you and just like I watch your Bride.”

“I don’t trust that. And I doubt I will ever have children.”

“Who knows. That’s not up to me.”

They stayed silent.

Nervously, König grinded his teeth and considered what he had heard.

“You watch her too?”

“Yes.”

“Is she okay? Clearly all of this must get to her. And the arranged marriage…”

“Little King”, the moon whispered near softly, “Isn’t that something you should ask her yourself? Be brave. Talk to her.”

“You keep pushing me to talk to her!” König cried out in frustration. “Why? It wouldn't matter anyway! There is nothing to say. Our marriage is just a facade. I am the one most likely to harm her and there is nothing I could say or do to remedy that.”

The anger of the past months, bottled up and pushed down, made their way out of König. Like a hurt animal he howled his words up to the moon.

He jumped up. The axe was ready swinging in his hands, clawed and ready.

If he could, König would have picked a fight with whoever crossed his path just for the sake of it. But there was just the moon - cold and far away.

He screamed in anger.

“I do everything! And it’s not enough. I AM NOT ENOUGH!” König stalked around the grass and felt his anger dissipate with every step getting heavier and heavier.

“I am not enough.” He repeated with finality and came to a halt. “And I never will be.”

It was silent.

Conscious about his outbreak he looked around. Not a leaf dared to move around him. Ashamed he fell into the grass and covered his face.

“I am sorry. It was too much.” König mumbled as he tried to catch his breath and fight the tears. “I am not like that normally.”

“I know, König. It’s okay.”

The moon's words felt like the last push. König cried. He did not know why. Some of it he understood. But a lot were just tears he had to shed years, months, nights ago and now he did not know why he cried.

Heaving for air in between his sobs, König hears the moon's soft words.

“Oh it’s okay, König. It’s fine, little king. It’s fine…”

He was the water and the water him. Köng’s tears flowed endlessly until he was done and only a tired void was left in him.

He looked up to the moon, staring down at him. The soft smiling crescent unchanging and familiar, surrounded by a countless number of stars shining down at him.

“I am sorry for … this.” König started.

“No.” the moon interrupted. “Don’t you dare to apologise for crying. I mean it. It’s okay. Next time, just leave the axe out of it, okay?”

König looked at the axe a bit off in the grass. He had let go of it at some point, feeling like failure again - even in his sadness he was intimidating.

Vodyanoy nodded.

“Listen König, may I say something?”

Another nod.

“You breaking down like that was inevitable. Don’t torture yourself like that. You don’t need to carry it all alone. And I guarantee your the Bride would be the first to listen to you.”

A tired smile made its way up to Königs lips. “There it is again - you want me to talk to her. But she is so fragile. She can never do what I can. What’s the point?”

“You build her up in your mind as mighty as that castle of yours. She is the most fragile, the most worthy, clever and beautiful - don’t deny it. I watched you yearn for her for too long. But she is just a person and not your dream of her. And all your sacrifices are great but the one that truly matters you did not give.”

“Which one?”

“Honesty - with her, with you. You two need to talk with one another instead of silently offering yourselves up. She is not as weak as you make her out to be. And you, little king, are not always strong. It’s painful to watch.”

Defeated but not yet passive, König tried to reason. “You don’t understand. Besides, what is there to talk about?”

“That you care about her maybe? And that you care so much, that’s close to twisting into a mindless adoration suffocating both of you. Let her be strong and be to you what you are for her instead of sheltering and keeping her away. She is an ocean worth discovering, not a cup of water that needs to be kept out of the sun to not evaporate.”

König looked down at his hands. The same claws as always.

“Don’t start that again, boy. Get up, knock at her door and ask if you can sleep there. And tomorrow you can talk.”

Slowly, König eyed her door.

Disturb her? Be a burden to the one he wants to keep all burdens away from?

“Be brave, little king.”

The moon was wrong. Nothing could be fixed with talking. But what if the moon was right?

The door drew him in like nothing before.

And he was so tired.

König got up, collected his axe and stepped forward.

Should he really do it? The moon stayed silent, waiting for König to walk to the door and knock.

He took a deep breath, wiped his hand over his face and stepped forward.

This was it. It felt like the bravest, hardest thing he had ever done.

He knocked.

Cultural context

Tschort (literal translation: devil) can be both a plural and singular. It can be translated as demon or devil. But that only captures the word in its Christian context and not its presence in mostly in pagan traditions in folk and fairy tales. It’s easiest to understand a tschort as a type of evil or at least ill-meaning supernatural male being.

A kikimora is a bad female house spirit known for haunting dreams or generally the household. I know her as an entity that drives humans insane by whispering, stealing eggs, spinning spider webs and confusing her targets but there are other tales about her in which she has other abilities. There are proposed links between the Kikimora and the ancient Greek Moiren, the Germanic Nornen, and obviously the old Slavic goddess Mokosh. Funnily enough in the game “The Witcher 3” the kikimora is a type of giant spider.

Erle / alder is a very important tree in central European folklore and especially German speaking folk. Alder trees are part of the birch tree family, making them very resistant trees. The alder grows on very humid soil, often appearing close to bodies of water or moorlands. Since moors were associated with the dead, alders were considered a bit spooky. Alder trees ‘bleed’ a reddish liquid when being cut, adding to their spooky association. There are several rites around alder and alder twigs. The Erlenkönig or Alder king is a very famous German poem about an elven king trying to seduce a sick child to come and live with him. A german – English translation can be found here https://www.ogn.ox.ac.uk/sites/default/files/bellcogo2015.pdf All in all the alder tree is just a cool spooky tree with plenty of pagan-Christian connotations around it.

There are a few stories about the moon and as far as I am concerned, they all coexist in a semi plausible way. In the 1964 soviet, kids’ movie ‘Морозко’ the sun does not rise out of kindness to give the protagonist time to finish her nightly chores. The man on the moon or the moon face is a story drawing from German speaking tradition that the moon is a single wanderer watching out for those that cannot sleep or work late at night. It’s a kind presence and there are lullabies for kids about the nice man on the moon guarding them. Also, the moon as the cause of ebb and flood would be of interest to a water being like the Vodyanoy even though many Slavic folk traditions come from landlocked places therefore not noticeably experiencing the tides. At last, the moon is a way of keeping track of time, not just for eastern or central Europeans.

The Rusalkas name is Lada. Lada is a name used till this day. The origin of it is interesting. There are conflicting theories about ‘Lada’ being a possible Slavic goddess of marriage, fertility, love, spring and much more. Since primary sources on beliefs before Christianity in eastern Europe are basically non-existent, I would be careful with set ideas about the goddess Lada. The word лада appears to have further linguistic roots and connotations in old eastern Slavic and modern spoken Slavic languages like significant other, fret, lover, maiden, husband, etc. However, my Russian is far from good enough to get into this and I also don’t speak any other languages from this region. So please be mindful of that. If someone feels like educating me here, I would be very interested in learning more.

Little reminder – Rusalkis are something akin to mermaids or nymphs. They are loaded in symbolism as being promiscuous but also connected with children and childbirth, playful but also dangerous as they kill and drown those who harm them, spinning and washing clothes but also leisure, very much alive but also connected to suicide by drowning. In the stories I am familiar with, Rusalkis can leave the water if they want to, however there are stories where they don’t. Since Rusalkis are a staple in a lot of eastern European folk traditions, there is no one set idea what the right Rusalka is.

Koschei / Коще́й in Russian is the recurring male bad person in at least Russian Slavic folklore. Koschei is also called the immortal or the deathless. The name Koschei translated literally can mean something along the lines as the one of bones. Supposedly he is unkillable because he keeps his soul or heart secured in a separate place than his body. Often that is an egg which is placed in other animals which are guarded. Stories about Koschei tend to place him as the antagonist or love rival. Koschei is supposed to be rich and likes gold. He tends to kidnap, enchant, or marry unwilling young beautiful women (which require rescue of course). He is a sorcerer. Often, he is named as head of a castle or larger hall which indicates a ruler position. This is stressed with many tales naming him tsar / царь / ‘king’. There are links between Koschei and the other classical bad girl in Slavic folklore – Baba Yaga. That is symbolised by helping each other or being related somehow. However, they rarely appear together.

Addition by 'Uroo7kuro0': "Кощей" can come not only from the word "кость"/"bone". Also perhaps he's the prototype of another god whose name is "Карачун"/"Karachun" who was in charge of the cold. Interesting fact in some fairy tales Koschei and Baba Yaga were equally negative characters, while in others Baba Yaga helped the main characters kill Koschei

Devitsa is a transliteration from the word ‘девица’. It’s not well translatable but means something along the lines of maiden, mistress, damsel, maid or lady. Here, it is used like an honour title but like all honour titles the word Devitsa can and is used ironically. Nowadays in spoken contexts

Would like to be tagged as well? send me a message.

@thesinsoflust @kdkj122920 @die-prophetin @lillianastuff @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore @fatedeniedhope @queensidillasworld @agspgrwasb @silelda @unlikepoltergeist @matcha-flavored-cake @blvkwondaland @diamondnightdreamer @brooklyn-1918 @thorns-x @icepancakes @sizzlingsaladpeach @peachymonsters @blackrockshooter780 @cl3rks @king-thunderstorm @hosshihusshi @id0nthaveidea @perilous-pasta @lothiriel9 @berryjuicyy @blvkwondaland @asmohunny @amatis-gray @blubumblebee @ofmenanduhhhwellmen

#monster!könig #monster x human #könig #könig mw2 #könig cod #he who comes from under the water #hwcfudw #grimmwriting #monster romance #monster x reader #monster!ghost #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #call of duty mw2 #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare ii #philip graves

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writeandsurvive · 6 months

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Well, @mandy426, you asked for it, so here you go. Hope you'll enjoy it! 🫣 Inspired by the picture below (because how could we not?)

Summary: Alden comes home one night in his undercover outfit

Warnings: nsfw, established relationship, wall sex, piv, unprotected sex, undercover!Alden, biker!Alden, kinky reader ig?,

Undercover ~ Alden Parker

Alden was very clear from the beginning; his job takes a lot but doesn't give much. You were okay with that as you'd have dealt with whatever, just to be with this man. You did underestimate how bad it could be though. The long hours, the physical and emotional exhaustion he deals with, the missions away from home, and more. There were definitely hard times, where you wish Alden had a boring 9 to 5 job, but you immediately felt guilty thinking this. He obviously loves being a federal agent, and you do admire him for it.

The worst was kissing him goodbye in the morning and not knowing if you'd see him again. But there's nothing you wouldn't do for this man, so you learned to deal with this fear and anxiety and make the best of the time you have with him.

Eventually, something new came up; Alden was going undercover. He didn't say much about it, just that he probably won't be home much, and if somehow you run into each other in town, pretend that you don't know him, unless he comes over to you. Honestly, you hoped this wouldn't happen.

He's been undercover for two weeks and you had barely seen or heard of him. It was hard, but luckily, his best friends Tobias and Jeremy have been giving you updates on Alden, they kept checking on you, spending evenings with you. Plus, you have a supportive family who's always there for you.

When you heard the sound of keys opening the door, you actually got scared for a second, forgetting that your partner had the keys and could come home whenever he could. You stood up from the couch to meet him at the door, but you stopped as soon as your eyes laid on him. It didn't look like your Alden at all.

"Honey, hey!" He rushed over to you and hugged you tight. "I can't stay long, but I'm missing you so bad."

You hugged him back, still quite puzzled. Your nose was buried in a leather jacket you've never seen before. Alden let go just enough to kiss you. "Are you alright?" He asked, stroking your cheeks and looking at you from head to toes. "Baby?"

"Are you undercover as a biker or a hipster?" You looked more at the leather jacket, the black hoodie under, the beanie on his head, the full beard - he only had the mustache since you met - the boots. You've never seen Alden dressed like this before, and you never imagined he would. But damn, did he look even hotter.

"Oh, yeah, um. Biker, actually. I know it doesn't look like me."

"Are you riding a bike?"

"Isn't what bikers do?" He chuckled. "Plus, I had my biker phase in my early twenties, so I'm not entirely new to this."

"Y-you did? How come you never told me? Or shown me pictures?" You exclaimed, sounding like you were upset.

He laughed a bit more, "I don't know, it never came up. My fam hated it."

"I don't care about your family! I wanted to know!"

Alden got closer to you again, putting a strand of hair behind your hair and softly brushing your skin that was turning pink. "Is this look turning you on, baby?" He whispered in a husky voice. He was smirking, clearly aware of the effect this was having on you. You were blushing even more and you swallowed thickly.

"Maybe." You whispered back.

Then he grinned as his hands traveled south, roaming over your breasts. He leaned over, pressing his forehead against yours. "Not necessarily what I had in mind, as I just needed to see you, but I'd be damned to deny you."

You were the one who reached for the heated kiss. His beard was probably hurting your skin but you couldn't care less. You stroked it before enjoying feeling the leather under your fingers. Alden made you walk backwards until you were pinned against the wall. His lips and tongue found that sweet spot in your neck, earning a loud moan from you. You wrapped a leg around him, his hands traveling under your - his - shirt to find you braless. He growled and played with your tits, still ravaging your neck, jaw and lips.

"Alden, I need you." You whimpered, rubbing yourself against the bulge in his jeans.

"I suppose I should keep the clothes on?" He chuckled, freeing his cock and giving it a few pumps.

"You better."

Alden got rid of your night shorts, and took advantage of dropping on his knees to kiss your intimate parts and gave a few licks on your clit. His beanie flew to the ground as you held onto his hair. The beard was giving more sensation than just the mustache.

"You taste so delicious." He got back to his feet, and held one of your legs up. "Ready for me, babygirl?"

"Yes, always! Fuck me, please!"

He didn't need to be asked twice and found the perfect angle to slip his length inside you. Both crying out, like you hadn't had sex in months. Alden gave you time to adjust before pumping in and out of you. "Fuck baby, you're taking me so good."

It wasn't romantic nor sweet, but rather rough and animalistic. You were trapped between his strong body and the wall, and loved every second of it. It wasn't long until you were cumming, shouting his name over and over again, holding onto his hair and the leather jacket. It was all he needed to cum deep inside you.

Feeling that his legs were pretty weak, Alden gently put you down and you felt his cum going down your inner thighs. "I need to sit," he said, taking the jacket off. You needed to sit too and luckily the couch wasn't far away. You grabbed your shorts and put them back on, not caring about the mess on you. "I'm an old man, you can't do this to me." He laughed, still trying to catch his breath.

"You can't do this to me!" You exclaimed, straddling his lap. "I hope there are no women around you."

"Don't worry about that." He reached for a meaningful kiss. "You're the only woman for me."

#ncis #alden parker #alden parker fanfic #alden parker imagine #ncis fanfiction #ncis imagine #alden parker x reader #alden parker smut

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maarriiii · 1 year

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Simp (Part 7) | Wilbur Soot

A/N: Honestly thought i was gonna put this series on hold because i just haven’t been writing lately and when i do, i just get stuck. Anyways, enjoy this 1.9k part that’s only 99 words away from 2k even though this series is going like this 📉 (my bad this is not actually 1.9k it’s 1.8k)

Summary: You and Wilbur are in the talking phase, and you even show up in his chat.

Pairing(s): Wilbur Soot x gender neutral!reader, Wilbur Soot x actor!reader

Warning(s): Wilbur swearing, but isn’t he always

italics: texts/stream

blue italics: basically just you, on text or stream

my masterlist :))

When Wilbur glanced at the clock in his office, his eyes widened and cursed himself for getting carried away. Though, how can he not when it's you, talking and joking around with him like the two of you had been long friends. It had been a couple of weeks since you reached out to Wilbur—he remembered slightly panicking over seeing your notification—and ever since the two of you would make time to talk despite the time difference. He can't deny that it was kind of awkward at first with both of you being nervous and all but only a couple of days passed when the conversation finally started to flow smoothly like a river. Just a couple of days ago, he taught you how to use discord.

Today was no different than any other day. The two of you were talking again, the topic resides on his band and the tour that was about to commence, when he realized that he was supposed to stream in about five minutes and he had yet to prepare everything. Since Wilbur finally have some spare time on his plate and all the news outlets that tried to get the scoops from him have back down due to the rumor being replaced and forgotten by some other celebrity gossip, he thought it would be a good time to stream and let his fans know what he had been up to.

i'm really sorry about this y/n

but i have to go

i forgot that i'm supposed to stream tonight

like rn actually

Oh my god

yes of course go

talk to u later?

Yes yes go already

alright byee :))

Bye will have a good stream

Wilbur smiled at your reply, staring at it for a few seconds before finally putting down his phone and turning on his computer.

You had an idea. Something that you had wanted to do but never really had the opportunity until now. You wanted to watch Wilbur livestream. Sure, you've seen some clips on YouTube before but you felt it wasn't quite the same experience with seeing it live. You wanted to see him in his element. But, if you're being honest you just wanted to see him smile and hear his laugh. You were glad Sam wasn't there because then he would call you a simp and that you're whipped for Wilbur.

With a made up mind, you got up from bed—still clad in pajamas—brushed your teeth and washed your face, took a trip to the kitchen for a quick breakfast and coffee before heading to your office that was filled many memorabilia from film set and a growing amount of awards. You put down the plate and mug on the desk, making sure there was distance between your computer and the hot drink. After a press of a button the screen changed from black to a picture of a beautiful scenery that you took on a vacation in Italy. You opened the browser and typed in the link to his Twitch channel. When you clicked on the stream he was already in the midst of a conversation with his chat.

He was sat in an office chair, something similar to the ones in your childhood home. A green screen displaying a green meadow in the background with a little glimpse of a white wall due to the screen being folded on the top right corner. You watched the chat pouring in, some responding to what he was saying while others asked what did they miss. You tried to read some of them but that prove to be a hard task since it all passed by so quickly, replaced by yet another messages.

For awhile you just watched him, smiling when he did something cute, laughing when he did or said something funny. It felt like you had somebody accompanying you instead of being alone eating toast in your office. It was a very enjoyable experience until your name was mentioned.

"No, chat, I am not dating y/n l/n," Wilbur expressed, after reading his chat.

You slightly cringed at the topic of you being brought up. This always happens whenever you're being associated with someone. All people ever wanted to talk to them about was you. You were aware that most of it wasn't ill–intentioned but you couldn't deny it had ruined a couple of past relationships for you, be it platonically or romantically. You couldn't exactly blame them for it. The constant questions about you instead of themselves or their work grew tiring and unbearable for them. So, naturally, you felt bad about the unknown person bringing you up especially since this was Wilbur's first stream in awhile and you were certain he wanted to talk more about his band.

"Those rumors were made by a bunch of fucking idiots who would trampled over someone else's fucking boundaries to get clicks for their so called news." He voiced out, with an edge to his voice . "Do not believe every rumors or gossip spreading around, chat, unless the person involved confirmed it themselves."

Your intention in watching Wilbur's stream was to merely observed him interacting with his fans. You didn't want to appear and have people make a big scene out of it, especially now that the dating rumor have died down. But, that intention went out the window when he started shit-talking the media and indirectly defended you. Therefore, you decided to typed in something in his chat to express your agreement with him.

couldn't have said it better myself

For awhile, you thought you got away with it. Everyone doesn't seemed to notice your little comment, but of course there were always that one eagle-eyed person who noticed every single possible thing.

okay am i seeing things or did i just see y/n in the chat?

oh my god is y/n here??

HIIIIII Y/N

WILBUR YOUR CRUSH IS HERE

When someone in his chat mentioned you, Wilbur had to admit he was kinda nervous on how to approach the topic. Of course, he likes you. There's no doubt about it, but he had to thread carefully for your and his sake. He didn't want to add fuel to the fire, even if the fire was shrinking. Although, at the same time, he didn't want to ruin any chances with you—if there was one in the beginning—by sounding too rude or dismissive. So, he tried to sound as neutral as possible and hoped for the best.

"But, since we're on the topic, chat, I wanted to say that y/n actually reached out to me when that dating rumor thing started getting more attention, cause like I've said before, a bunch people wanted to interview me and shit, and they felt bad about the whole thing and apologized for it and stuff." Wilbur revealed, slightly spinning in his chair. "But, they shouldn't have to because obviously it's not their fault and all, but I think it's very kind of them to make that effort.”

Wilbur leaned closer to his monior, trying to read what his chat was talking about. Some of them were gushing over the interaction he told, whilst the rest were getting excited about some thing. The chat was moving fast than per usual and he was beginning to have a hard time reading one.

"Okay, what are you all talking about? Did someone raid me and I didn't notice?"

guys he hasnt notice it yet lmao

wil is about to get caught simping in 4k

WIL YN IS HERE THEYRE HEREE

hiii will sorry for making a scene

thought i'd check your stream

Wilbur's eyes widened, his posture straightened as he inched closer to the monitor again to make sure that the name he saw in his chat was actually you—as if that would help since all the messages were flying fast.

"Wait, y/n, when did you make a Twitch account?!"

like just few minutes ago

still trying to figure it out really

am i doing it right?

"Yes, you're doing it right." WIlbur laughed. "I can't believe you're here."

oh my god theyre interacting!!!

someone clip it fast!!

were they here the whole time and was just lurking lol

"Wait, have you been here the whole time, y/n?" Wilbur asked too, slightly curious and nervous.

no i think you've been streaming for awhile when i joined

hey y/n do you know that wilbur is single

y/n he talks about you all the time

you're his celebrity crush he said so himself

"Woah, woah, what the fuck is this? Ganging up on Wilbur day? Fuck you, chat."

we're doing you a favor here wil

not the chat acting as a wingman lmao

"I don't need—" Wilbur groaned, covering his slowly blushing face with his hands. "y/n, please, do not listen to them."

i don't know wil

i'm kinda interested in what they have to say

pls theyre going along with it

"God, don't encourage them—stop spamming L's in the chat!"

This wasn't how Wilbur pictured it. This wasn't how he thought you would know about his attraction towards you, being ratted out by thousands of his fans, live, nonetheless. He imagined he would do it after the two of you had been talking for awhile. He imagined he'd be a lot more brave and forward—but not in the way that would make you uncomfortable. And then when you both finally meet in real life, whether it be at one of his shows or wherever, he would ask you out to dinner or perhaps a stroll, whatever activities that you enjoyed he would absolutely do it. But, of course, it didn't turn out that way.

"God, I'm so close to ending this stream right now."

he looks so done with us

pls don't i just got in

okay i think wil's had enough chat

"Yes, yes, listen to them, chat. I've had enough."

as much as i like to stay here longer and watch you guys unfortunately i have to go

noooo y/n don't goo

When he realized that you had to leave, Wilbur's expression changed from the feigned annoyance from the constant teasing of his chat to a dejected look, his shoulders slumped. Even though, he was bullied most of the time you were there, he would withstand it a lot longer if that means you could stay a bit longer.

"Oh, you have to leave?"

yeah, work stuff and all

"Oh, alright then. Chat, say goodbye to y/n."

WIlbur watched his chat spammed goodbyes, with most of them wanting you to return again.

byeee chat it's been great talking to you all

byee will hope you have a good stream

"Bye, y/n." He waved to the camera.

Once he was sure you left, Wilbur started staring at his camera. It was a look that was purposefully made to be uncomfortable and his chat was already expressing said feeling. Slowly, he inched closer to his mic to the point where he was awfully close to it and both his lips and nose was touching it. All the chat could hear was the sound of his heavy breathing until finally his loud and distorted voice broke the uncomfortable silence.

"CHAT, YOU PRICKS! HOW COULD YOU FUCKING DO THAT TO ME?!"

#simp #wilbur soot #wilbur x reader #wilbur x you #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur mcyt #DUDE THE SPACING IS SO SHIT #IT LOOKS LIKE I WROTE THIS IN ONE SINGLE LONG PARAGRAPH I HATE IT #IT WONT LET ME CHANGE IT #AND THE KEEP READING THING KEEPS MOVING ON ITS OWN

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modstarfell · 1 year

Text

A maiden far departed (POV: Juu Kinjo)

I'm stuck in the room again. Day after day, looking at the same walls. It's maddening... He won't even come to visit me. I've messed up this badly huh... My own son, who I swore I'd protect... He won't speak to me, he won't look in my direction... He won't... He won't even call me his father anymore. I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to get a grip on myself to keep myself from crying. I'm the chief of police! I shouldn't be wasting time crying over such trivial things! I tried to smack myself back to reality when I saw something move out of the corner of my eye. "Who's there?!" No one should be in here but me.

That's when I saw her... Her long light blue hair flowing in pigtails behind her like they were being blown around with the wind. Her eyes staring down at me... She was still wearing a hospital gown from that day too... "Sadako... My love... It's been so long..."

"Indeed it has, and by the sounds of it, you've gotten yourself in quite a runt haven't you Juu?" She bent down next to me and pulled me into a hug. I didn't understand just how it happened, but my darling, the love of my life... Was here holding me. I tried to reach my arms around her like I used to hold her only for my arms to phase right through. I couldn't fight back the tears any longer as they began seeping from my eyes.

"I... I was a terrible husband... I've become a terrible father. You'd be so angry if you saw what's become of our family. You gave me one job, to look after our son and make sure he was safe, and I couldn't do that right either. I... I was tricked into believing I ate him, and my body did so without a second care. I've followed in the corrupt way my father ran things. I became the chief... at the cost of pushing everyone else away. Tsurugi, he's safe... He took over the force for me, but I know... I know very well that's not what you wanted for him. I can't make up for what I've done... but at least you're here right now, I get to see my wife again."

I knew very well she was angry at me. She had every right to be, I've failed her completely. Yet for some reason I felt her hand brush through my hair and a soft warmth placed on my forehead. "You've been holding all of that in for a while. I don't forgive you for what you've done since I've left, but it's not your time yet either. You've told me what you've done, but now is your chance to start trying to fix it. Don't give up so easily Juu, that's not the man I married after all." She gave me a cheeky grin, that grin... Oh how I've missed seeing it.

Still as I closed my eyes to try and clear my eyes from tears, I felt her warmth move away from me. With that... It almost felt like peace washed over me. I may have messed up before but just like back then, she'll keep cheering me on right? I'll make her proud of me... I'll become someone that my son can call a father. A proper father.

#juu 🔗#minific #character study #this isn't canon hehe it's a what if situation :3

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twoidiotwriters1 · 1 year

Text

Copycat: Cryptomnesia —(Marvel Fem!Oc)

A/N: Not sure I love how this chapter came out, but it has its moments -Danny

Words: 2,385

Phase Five Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Listen to: ‘Punisher’ -by Phoebe Bridgers

xxxii: Rescue Mission

Sergei came looking for her again, she was blindfolded and taken to Billy's fancy dungeon. Cat pulled out Spider-man's mask from her satchel and threw it at Russo's feet.

"Happy?" She asked.

"I was expecting more blood," Russo eyed her casually. "You expect me to believe he's dead when you only have a few smudges across the face?"

"I don't like the smell of blood or how it tastes, I was careful not to get it on me."

The man laughed. "Heard that, Kraven? The mercenary's not a fan of blood!"

"She's telling the truth," said a voice above them.

Cat looked up and found Nightcrawler hanging inside a cage.

"Kurt!" The collar shocked her, Cat fell to her knees again.

"Easy, girl," Sergei had the remote in his hand. "Sit."

He shocked her once more and the mutant doubled in pain, her head was spinning.

"You were saying?" Russo turned to Kurt.

"She hates it," one of Kurt's eyes was swollen, it looked like his nose was broken too. He wasn't wearing any clothes but it didn't seem to bother him, or he was trying really hard not to show discomfort. "Her mask used to keep the smell away, so if I were you, I'd be mighty grateful she concentrated enough to get rid of the spider."

"Oh, but he wasn't our hardest task, he's not our last either, right, Kat?"

"Why don't you just kill me?" Cat growled.

"Cause that'd be a waste," he explained calmly, "D'you have any idea how valuable you are? Going against you is going against themselves. Someone who knows all of your weak spots, and can become the one thing that could kill you effortlessly."

"What happens if I refuse to keep going? Or if I kill myself?"

"Mr. Wagner used to be a pretty good assassin, with a little bit of training he can go back to the old ways. Right, Kraven?"

Kraven hummed. "Easy."

"The collar will keep him under control, and without you there to talk him out of it, Nightcrawler will have no reason to disobey."

"I rather eat my tail than work for you!" Kurt shouted.

An abrupt buzzing came from above, it was so aggressive she felt the ground vibrating. Kurt twisted in his cage without making much noise and fell limply as soon as the noises stopped. Cat whimpered not daring to look up. She was tired, and couldn't feel scared or sad anymore. She was numb all over. Russo was right, the collar was working, it was breaking her.

"What? You ran out of jokes?" Russo raised a brow. "Take her away. We'll give you time to recover, I want you to be fully awake for what's to come, so you can remember everything afterward."

"Mimi," Kurt crept to the side of his cage, he still had energy left. "Don't listen— just run, leave me—"

He was electrocuted again, and Cat noticed his cage was all metal, which meant he was feeling twice the pain she was subjected to.

"STOP IT!" She got up abruptly and ran toward Billy, but the man didn't budge.

Kraven pressed her remote and she contorted, falling to her knees. Cat coughed out, desperately trying to stay awake.

"Here's your next target, love," Russo pulled something out of his pocket: a picture. "You and Miss Bishop make a sweet couple," he threw the image on her lap. "Record the killing this time. Or bring her head. We should've asked her to do that from the start, isn't that what you do, Kraven?"

"If the beast's satisfied with just bringing small prizes like pieces of her prey's suits, that's her decision. They're not my kills."

Cat's eyes were blazing with anger, her hand reached for Spider-man's mask and lifted the item to his face. "You think I take pride in this shit?"

"That's what I taught you—"

"You taught me a rat's ass! You terrorized me and Kurt for years!" She yelled. "You fucking lunatic—!"

Kraven electrocuted her, and a second time for good measure. "I don't think you understand the point of the inhibitor!"

"I understand it," she replied hoarsely, then smiled a little. "But that face you make when I insult you— that's not very alpha of you, Sergei."

Lightning coursed through her, Cat curled on the floor swallowing her cries.

"Take her away," Russo ordered. "You run and your demon boy dies, understood?"

"I don't matter, Mimi, save your—!"

His choked groans squeezed her heart. Cat wanted to fight back, but it was hopeless. One way or another, one of them would end up dead, if not both.

The mutant was dozing off when she heard someone tapping her window. She sat up in alarm and tried to bring out her claws, but the inhibitor was on, so nothing happened. The window snapped open, a shadow paused at the brink of it.

"Are you alone?" It whispered.

Cat nodded, not quite believing that was really happening. Spider-man enter the room and closed the window, then he turned to look at her. He was wearing a suit, identical to the other, but this one was cleaner.

"How d'ya get Edith?"

"Stole it," she replied, her throat was suffering the consequences of her insubordination, so her voice was weak and grainy. "It was in the wrong hands."

"How do I know the wrong hands aren't yours?"

Cat glared at him. "I could've killed you for real, you know? It would've been easier, but I didn't."

"Because you want me to use Edith. I read your note."

"So?"

"I wanna know what the hell is going on first."

Cat looked away. "That's my business."

He made his way to her, gentle in his movements. "I care about you far more than you think. Don't push me out again."

The way he spoke to her felt more intimate than she remembered, Clint had said something about her dating the hero at some point, but since she couldn't recall it, the tone of his voice only made her uncomfortable.

"I don't understand," she said, looking at him intently. "I don't remember you being close to me, but when I see you around the city I... I feel like you were. Why?"

Spider-man stared at her, it was impossible to know what he was thinking. "The last time I saw you, you were happy. What happened with Matt and with—?"

"You know about Matt?" She tensed. "You've been following me?"

"N-No!"

Cat got up and approached menacingly. "Who are you?"

Spidey moved away, staying in the corner of the room. "I-I can't..."

"I went to you," Cat pointed an accusing finger at him. "My mind ignored everyone else and screamed your name," she took a shaky breath, "I wanna know why."

"We were best friends," his voice softened. "Way before you knew Harley and Kurt."

"That's impossible."

"It doesn't make sense, I know, but the years Kurt wasn't around, I was."

For some reason, Cat was crying. Maybe she was too tired to fight it back as she would usually do.

"I was there," he said, giving a hesitant step forward. "I went to all of your birthday parties, we dressed up as Ghostbusters on your first—"

"How do you..." she whispered, stepping back.

"I was there on your first Valentine's when Ned gave you a spaceship eraser, I gave you a handmade card."

Her memories were glitching, she could remember seeing the eraser in the box where she kept her old things, but the card... images flickered behind her eyelids... a boy was giving it to her...

"We used to go to a cat cafe before the blip, that's how we discovered that cats love you— and I invited Matt Murdock to the party where he gave you those," he pointed at the heart-shaped sunglasses on her nightstand. "You got together that night."

She remembered. Holy shit, she remembered Ned and MJ, and Kurt, Happy and Matt... another person... with curly brown hair.

Cat stared at him, his face remained missing in her mind. "Webs..?"

"Yes!" His voice came out a little cheerier. "You taught me how to fight better, and how to heal my wounds— you gave me the hydrogen tip to get rid of bloodstains!"

She frowned. "It sounds like you weren't that well trained, were you?"

Spider-man laughed. "You used to say that a lot. I wasn't born with powers, I got them on the year we met."

"I met you before you were spider-man," it wasn't a question, it just came to her. "My god... you're my tutor!"

"Yeah, that's how we became friends," he walked closer to her, this time she didn't move. "I want to help you. I have the feeling this is my fault, somehow—"

"I sent Billy Russo to jail, you had nothing to do with it."

"The only reason why you worked as an agent was so Kurt and I didn't have to—"

"It was you?" She asked, abruptly remembering something from her youth. "I signed the accords for you?"

Spider-man stopped. "That's... yeah, I guess you did. You said something like that when I asked."

"What did I say exactly?"

He paused, then drew something out of the waistline of his suit.

"I brought this in case... I thought you'd welcome me at gunpoint."

"Out of all the men that are after me, you're the least threatening. I thought it'd be hard to get your attention, so I threatened to kill you and stabbed you hoping you'd understand. You're the one who should be holding a gun at my face."

Spider-man looked down at the thing he was holding, he offered it to her.

"I understood that you needed me. I know all of you, and I know you never ask for help unless you really need it," he cleared his throat, stretching out his hand and insisting that she took what he was holding. "I... I loved you very much, once. That's our whole life together. It won't work unless you remember me, I'm having the same issue with Edith."

"What?"

"I tried to activate her but she's dead."

"Why do I have to remember you for Edith to work?"

"It's because of our friendship that Tony gave me the glasses. You used to know my identity," he explained. "I made you forget."

"What!" She exclaimed in shock. "You did this to me?! I hate not being able to remember things!"

"You said that before— but I was constantly messing things up and you were always trying to help by neglecting your life in the process—"

Spider-man started to pace around her room, she grabbed him by the back of the suit, the guy was as tall as her, but he still gulped loudly when she seized him.

"Who are you?" She repeated in a low, angry voice.

"You won't remember even if I tell you, you might get flashbacks of things, but we need to remove the whole spell," he moved away from her grip. "I need to restore your memory."

"I still don't understand why is this stopping you from using Edith," she frowned.

"I made everyone forget with Strange's help, right? It affected the whole world, machines included, so maybe if I break a part of the spell, that'll get the A.I. working."

"And you'll break the spell through me?"

"You're the one who needs Edith," he pointed out.

"And you understand why?"

"The bad guys have you under their control and you want to get rid of them."

"And you're okay with that?"

He placed one hand on her shoulder. Spider-man spoke in a voice that made her slightly scared of him, "I would fight them myself if I could, but I can tell your inhibitor's been modified to do more than just neutralize you— I'm not fast enough on my own."

Cat's eyes teared up again. "So you don't care about me being a mercenary?"

"Come again?" He removed his hand from her shoulder.

"Okay, here's my plan," she turned and sat down on her bed. "Billy Russo and Sergei —he's Dmitri's brother, I don't know if I ever told you about Dmitri?"

He sat beside her. "I thought you'd killed them during the blip?"

"No. Only Dmitri," she made a face. "Sergei found me a few days ago, makes me kill good people— and I might've killed some last year, but I don't... I don't think they were good... I hope they weren't, but either way, I made a bigger mess than I realized."

Spider-man held her hand so gently it made her want to cry again. She needed to get a grip of herself. "I've missed you, Cat. I won't leave you alone on this. And I won't judge you anymore, I'm just happy we're talking again."

"Where have you been?" Her voice came out childish and weepy. "You should've looked for me sooner— maybe I wouldn't be here, about to die..."

"I know, I know," Spider-man was quick to wrap his arms around her, his guilt sounded so genuine it made her cry harder. "I'm sorry, I thought you were okay— and you were for a while..." he dried her tears with his thumb. "I looked for you, C.C. So we could be friends again, even if you couldn't remember me..."

"What happened?"

"You looked happy," he insisted, now sounding as teary as her. "I couldn't do it... I was alone, but I was willing to stay that way so all of you could go on without worries."

"It's selfish, assuming you're the only problem we could ever worry about," she moved away from him, cleaning her nose with the back of her hand. "Didn't you think that maybe you were also the one thing keeping us going?"

"Nah. There are good things within you, C. I think you've gone through a lot the last few years, but you're still pushing through it."

Pushing back, she thought. He must've been the voice that she kept hearing at the back of her mind, whenever she did something wrong.

"I must've loved you a lot," she sentenced. "Almost as much as I love Kurt."

Spidey chuckled. "I hope so."

She was just as trapped as she was the day before, but having Spider-man there gave her hope, and that was all she needed at the moment.

"Okay... so let's break this spell," she moved and stared at the plastic square he'd handed her. "Do you think Strange is willing to help you out a second time?"

He sighed, shaking his head. "More like a fourth time. And no. I caused a multiversal apocalypse last time, I don't think he's up for it again— it's been only two years since that happened. What about Wanda?"

"I know she's gone a bit off the rails, though I can't blame her," she gestured at the collar around her neck. "I'm not a saint either."

"Any idea of how to get in contact with her?"

Cat reached for her phone. "I might know someone."

Next Chapter—>

Taglist.

@mikaelsonwhxrebae @ieatpanicattacksforlunch @jesuswasnotawhiteman @siriuslysirius1107 @greengarsstuff @itsyagirl01 @23victoria @espressopatronum454 @jkthinkstoomuch

#twoidiots writing #marvel #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #copycat fic

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caitimetravels · 3 years

Text

she's insignificant

chapter 4: run girl run

the umbrella academy x reader

disclaimer: i do not own the plot/storyline of the netflix tv series and i do not own the umbrella academy characters.

warnings: mentions of blood

masterlist

"you will be working on locating number five instead" reginald instructed the young girl. she raised her head in shock.

"what?"

"come, we must work in solitude" he ignored her confusion, uncaring for her feelings as usual. he lead her down the stairs. she only remembered coming down here once as a child, it was when vanya was sick. reginald showed her to a vault like room. she stared at it, unsure.

"you will be training down here from now on, your siblings will not disrupt you down here"

the h/c haired girl stared at the room with wide eyes. her siblings wouldn't disrupt her or she wouldn't disrupt them..?

————————————————–

"like i said to your son earlier, any information about the prosthetics we build is strictly confidential. without the client's consent i simply can't help" lance biggs sat in his office chair, staring at klaus as he talked. five stood beside the chair y/n sat in, hands in pockets and annoyed.

"well, we can't get consent if you don't give us a name" five leaned in, gritting his teeth.

"well, that's not my problem" lance shrugged, "sorry, now there's really nothing i can do so.."

"oh, what about my consent?" klaus looked up now, gaining five and y/n's attention. what was he doing? "who gave you permission to lay your hands on my son?"

"what?" the other three people in the room all spoke in unison.

"you heard me"

"i didn't touch your son" lance argued, glancing at five.

"oh, really?" klaus begun to lean forwards, moving to stand up. "well then how did he that swollen lip then?"

"he doesn't have a swollen lip-" lance was cut off as klaus struck five across the face. five touched a hand to his now bleeding lip, glaring at klaus in confusion.

"and, what about my daughter? how dare you lay a hand on her. she's so sweet and innocent" klaus turned to y/n now, gesturing to her. she awaited a hit now, sure he was going to punch her. "how could you assault her like that?" and just as she thought he slapped a hand across her face, leaving a bright red hand print.

"i want it. name please, now" klaus turned back to lance, leaning on his desk. the doctor raised a shaky finger at him.

"you're crazy"

"you got no idea" klaus laughed breathlessly before taking notice of the snow globe resting on the desk. he picked it up smiling as he read it. "'peace on earth' that's so sweet" y/n jumped in surprise as he smashed it over his head, groaning in pain. he held his hands to his face for a moment before looking back up, hair dripping with water and glitter. blood dripped down the side of his head.

lance quickly dialled a number into the phone, lifting it to his ear. he was still in shock, "i'm calling security- what are you doing?!"

y/n stood and gently gripped five's blazer sleeve, pulling him back as klaus ripped the phone from lance's grip. five glanced at her in confusion but then realised what was happening as he barely missed an elbow to the face as klaus dramatically cried into the phone.

"there's been an assault in mr biggs office and we need security now, schnow!" klaus slammed the phone back onto the table before leaning close to lance. "here's what's gonna happen grant"

"it's lance-"

"in about 60 seconds, two security guards are gonna burst through that door and they're gonna see a whole lot of blood and they're gonna wonder what the hell happened and we're gonna tell them that you, beat the shit out of us" klaus breathed for a moment standing up straight now, staring the doctor down. "you're gonna do great in prison grant, trust me, i've been there. little piece of chicken like you, oh my god you're gonna get passed around like a.. you're gonna do great, that's all i'm saying" klaus waved his hand, smiling.

five smirked now, proudly standing beside klaus. y/n nervously stood behind five, watching over his shoulder.

"jesus, you're a real sick bastard" lance stared up at him, stunned.

"thank you" klaus spat out a piece of glass.

————————————————–

"focus, number eight!" reginald shouted once again, frustrated as she failed once again to find her missing brother. she squeezed her eyes closed tighter, trying to ignore his insults.

it had been almost 6 years since five had disappeared and around 1 since ben died. she had spent that year working on finding her brother only to be unsuccessful. it was like he had dropped off the face of the earth, she didn't know how her father expected her to find him.

she needed to focus. her eyes glazed over again as she opened them, turning black for the sixth time that hour. her hands glowed a soft white colour in her lap as her powers worked. she couldn't hear her father anymore.

she opened her eyes slowly to see destruction. where was she? she notices a store behind her, flames still burning endlessly upon rubble. carefully she walked into what was left of the department store. there sat a mannequin in a white top with black dots, only the top half of the mannequin was still undamaged, she had a single arm and no hair but what was left of her body was fine. suddenly someone walked through y/n. she stared at the boy for a moment, recognising him as her missing brother.

"five..?"

————————————————–

klaus sat atop the bench while five sat across from lance who searched through the files. y/n stood in between the two, arms crossed and guarded as she watched everything over klaus' shoulder. her face still slightly hurt, hand print clearly visible.

lance nervously flicked through the file five was looking for before pausing as he read it.

"huh.. that's strange"

"what?" five snapped impatiently,

"uh the eye, it hasn't been purchased by a client yet" lance looked up at him now,

klaus jumped off the bench, stepping behind lance. "what? what do you mean?"

"well, our logs say that the eye with that serial number.." klaus stepped over to his other side and leaned over his left shoulder. "this can't be right, it hasn't even been manufactured yet. where did you get that eye?"

lance, klaus and y/n all looked to five. where did he get that eye?

————————————————–

he was a little older than she remembered but he was definitely the same boy that ran away all those years ago. he didn't answer her voice, not hearing her at all. she frowned, watching as he dug through what was left of the store. he was searching for something useful.

while he dug through scraps she went back to the beautiful mannequin. she was surprised at how it had managed to stay okay through all of this destruction around them. she reached a hand out to touch her before she heard five's voice. had he seen her?

"five" she smiled, turning to him only for him to walk right through her again. she frowned, why couldn't he see her? she tried to grab his arm but her hand only phased through. she was like a ghost.. where was she? where was five? "five, can you hear me?" she stood in front of him, trying everything to get his attention.

"five? five!" why couldn't she help him? she just wanted to help. she felt so useless, watching him walk around and gather materials. she couldn't speak to him, he couldn't hear her..

————————————————–

"well, this is not good" five breathed out in annoyance as they exited the building.

"i was pretty good though right? 'yeah, what about my consent, bitch?'" klaus grinned, giddy as they stepped out. y/n sighed at her brother, trailing behind.

"klaus, it doesn't matter" five snapped, stopping on the last step to glare at him. klaus stopped just after, turning to face him.

"what? what? what? what's the big deal with this eye anyway?" klaus carelessly threw his hand in the air, not at all bothered.

"there's someone out there who's going to lose an eye in the next seven days. they're going to bring about the end of life on this earth as we know it" five spoke seriously, stressed.

y/n's eyes narrowed. that's where he had been..

————————————————–

she felt herself being pulled away, like someone was tugging her. she fought, wanting to stay, she needed to help him. she needed to tell five he could get back, she could help him, she would.

she continued to call for him even though she knew it was useless. she wasn't able to help him no matter how hard she tried. she was like a ghost. five finally stopped rummaging, now noticing the mannequin behind her.

"how did you.." he spoke softly, he even sounded the same. god, she missed him. she almost broke down again as he walked through her, picking up the mannequin softly. just as y/n faded she reached her hand out, trying to touch him. her hand instead gripped the mannequin. she shouted in pain as she felt like she was being torn apart. she squeezed her eyes shut hoping the pain would stop.

when her eyes opened again she found herself in that same room with her father scowling down at her. he watched her for a moment, for once allowing her to calm down. she slowed her breathing, wiping away the tears on her cheeks, bitterly.

"report, number eight?" reginald asked, impatiently glaring.

"i.." she paused, she couldn't tell him. she would find five on her own if she had to but she couldn't tell him, she wouldn't. she was a failure. she couldn't tell him she couldn't do it, the punishment would be too great. "i didn't find him.."

reginald clicked his tongue in disappointment. "you are dismissed until further notice. training will not resume"

"what? but what about five-"

"number five is gone and you can do nothing to help him if you keep failing, number eight. you are too weak. you are dismissed" he snapped, narrowing his eyes, daring her to talk back again.

she stayed silent.

————————————————–

klaus paused before ignoring five's ominous tone, "yeah, can i get that twenty bucks like now or what?"

"your twenty bucks?" five stared at him in disbelief.

"yeah, my twenty bucks"

"the apocalypse is coming and all you can think about it getting high?" five got up in klaus' face, annoyed. how could he not care that the world was ending?

"hey, um.. five?" y/n tried to diffuse the situation before anything could happen. she didn't need another family fight.

"well, i'm also quite hungry" "tummys-a-rumbling, grr" klaus grinned, patting his stomach and imitating gurgling sounds.

"you're useless.." the boy clad in uniform mumbled, incredulous. "you're all useless!" he begun to walk away to the stairs of the building.

"five? hey, come on. i'm sure we can do something else to stop the-" y/n smiled softly, walking behind him, holding his blazer sleeve. klaus interrupted her.

"oh, come on, you need to lighten up, old man" he stayed where he was, exasperated. "klaus!" y/n scolded, sitting beside five only to be ignored. "hey, you know i've just now realised why you're so uptight! you must be horny as hell. all those years by yourself, that's gotta screw with your head, being alone" he acted sympathetic as he sat on five's other side. y/n rolled her eyes, he was definitely just doing this for his money.

"well, i wasn't alone" five stared off while he fiddled with his fingers.

"oh? pray tell" klaus turned, interested.

five looked up now, reminiscent. "her name was dolores, we together for over 30 years"

"30 years? oh wow, god, the longest i've been with someone was.. i don't know.. three weeks?" five's eyebrows furrowed, bored. he looked around for an escape. "and that's only because i was so tired of looking for a place to sleep-" he noticed a cab driving by and took y/n's hand before blinking into the cab. "he did make the most fantastic ossobuco though, it was.. five? y/n?"

the pair appeared the back of the cab, scaring the driver. "don't stop. just keep going" five instructed before leaning out the window and saluting condescendingly at klaus.

"hey, hey, hey, hey! what about my money?!" he shook his hand, angrily yelling at them.

————————————————–

"y/n, dear" grace smiled at her, standing in the doorway to the library. her siblings stood around their mother, all ready for bed. she was going to tuck them in. "it's bed time, come now, let's get you ready"

y/n stared at her books for a moment before ultimately sighing and following along. she brought two with her though. diego walked beside her, as grumpy as usual and only there because he was a mommy's boy. his eyebrows furrowed in confusion however at the books in her hands.

"why do you need books on physics and probability?" y/n looked up at him, surprised he was talking to her. usually her siblings ignored her now that she wasn't part of their missions. she stared at him for a moment, deciding whether to tell him or not. with a glance at the cameras in the room she decided against it.

"none of your business" she muttered quietly, curling her arms around the books, holding them to her chest. it gave diego a look at the equations written on her arm though. what was she up to?

he dropped it nonetheless. he didn't care too much if he was being honest, what she did was her business.. for now.

she was going to find him. she had to. with her books splayed out around her she made sure to stay to the quiet corner of the library, the one no camera in this house reached. loose sheets and notebooks filled with equations sat messily in front of her, decorating her wide array of books. if she could only tell five she could help him. he was surely smart enough to figure this out on his own but how long would it take him? she wanted him to come back sooner not later.

"come on, you can do this" she clenched her hands into fists, glowing white as she focused. her eyes turned black and she looked around. she couldn't move, she was stuck. she noticed five walking around but her body wouldn't do what she wanted it to. he walked over now however, did he finally see her? he smiled, taking a seat beside her. she noticed a book in his hand but she couldn't read what it was. he scribbled in it, focused. the only she noticed was that she was sat in red wagon, unmoving and unblinking. what was wrong with her?

five wrote down a few more numbers, showing her what he had written so far. it was similar to what sat beside her earlier. "i've almost got the equations dolores"

what..? her name wasn't dolores?

she gasped as she was shaken back to reality. looking up she found a concerned looking klaus with diego a few feet behind him.

"oh god" klaus sighed in relief as her eyes turned back to normal. "i thought you died or something"

"idiot, if she was dead her powers wouldn't have been working" diego scoffed although he too looked quite relieved she was okay.

"what were you doing?" klaus sat beside her now, staring at the numerous equations in front of him.

"what are you doing? shouldn't you be training or something?" she frowned, annoyed at having been caught and interrupted.

"we asked you first" diego countered, crossing his arms.

"i was practicing, nothing you should be concerned about" she waved it off, packing up her books and notes.

"it looks like a lot more than practicing, eight" he moved closer, stepping on the sheet she was about to pick up. he leaned over her, watching her carefully. she eyed him back, just as daring.

"you don't know what it looks like, two" she stated calmly, still holding the sheet.

"c'mon, y/n, just tell us what you're doing" klaus whined, "what are we gonna do? tell dad? we're not luther"

y/n snorted, remembering the jokes they used to make about luther sniffing dad's underwear. "fine, i was looking for five, dad stopped my training" diego stepped back now, confused.

"why would he stop your training?"

y/n paused, looking guilty. she glanced nervously between the two of them before waving them down towards her, whispering. "you can't tell anyone.. i lied to dad, i did find five"

"you're kidding" both boys stared at her in disbelief.

"why would you l-lie? w-w-w-what are you going to do if h-h-he finds o-out?!" diego freaked out now, his stutter coming out in his nervousness.

"he's not going to find out. he doesn't care about me now, i'm practically useless to him now" she shrugged, continuing to stack her papers again. "besides i can't move or talk to five whenever i find him, i just.. exist. i'm like a ghost or something. i still need to figure out how to communicate with him" she sighed heavily. first, she wanted to figure out what book he was reading. she had never seen it before.

————————————————–

"what are we doing?" y/n and five stood outside the department store.

"i thought i said no questions until later" he raised an eyebrow at her. "we're just here to get something" she shrugged and he held her arm before blinking them inside. they walked around for a moment, using five's flashlight.

"oh my god! five look!" y/n gushed, noticing postcards on a stand. "they have so many cities!" he stared at her for a second, confused by her fascination before remembering she had never really left the house. she gasped suddenly, turning around and holding up a fluffy bunny keychain. "it's so cute!"

a small fond smile grew on five's face as she took interest in the small, almost useless items that the store had to offer. with a sad look she turned to him, still holding the white bunny keychain. "five.. can i keep it?"

he paused, he was about to take dolores so he didn't see why not. if he said no he would be hypocritical.

"fine. but don't touch anything else, okay? we can't risk getting caught" he nodded before walking away. y/n grinned, hooking the keychain into her belt loop before looking around.

five finally found dolores, looking up at her. "dolores.. it's good to see you"

"i've missed you, obviously.. well, it's been a rough couple of days" y/n couldn't see who he was talking to but heard his voice. she frowned, he had gone through a lot.

suddenly five yelled, "no!" and then there were gunshots. y/n dropped to the floor, praying five was alright. she ducked behind a gardening stand. five appeared beside her and she almost screamed. he held a finger to his lips, shushing her. she nodded, watching as he grabbed a spade, testing it's swing before disappearing again.

she watched as he fought one of the two shooters, slicing their arm before running again. she couldn't see him after that, not until he came back over with a bag, pulling her with him. they ducked down one of the aisles and he tried to spatial jump but it didn't work. he was too tired.

"shit.. come on!" he tried again. in a last effort they ran and jumped over a stall, caught as the lights from the guns shone on them like headlights. both five and y/n froze.

"got him" the one with the pink mask spoke before they were distracted by sirens. five used this to their advantage, pulling y/n out and away from the line of fire. they stayed behind a stand, waiting for the masked shooters to leave before they did themselves.

as they sat y/n finally got a good look at dolores, freezing when she realised she knew the mannequin.

"oh my god.."

"what?" five furrowed his eyebrows at her.

"you were in a relationship with.. a mannequin?" she looked up at him in disbelief. the mannequin was not her issue though.

"look, if you have a problem-" he glared, ready to defend himself but she shook her head.

"no, no. i get it.. it's just.. " she trailed off awkwardly.

"what?" he snapped, getting impatient.

"five.. my soul was in that mannequin"

tags: @rxses-and-reverie @lostgreekgod @on-yourmark-99 @bicyhot1

#tua #the umbrella academy x reader #tua x sibling reader #the umbrella academy x sibling reader #five hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #luther hargreeves #five hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves x reader #allison hargreeves x reader #vanya hargreeves x reader #luther hargreeves x reader #ben hargreeves x reader #ben hargreeves

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angeli-marco-writes · 3 years

Text

Sherlock Holmes - Kiss Me, Mr Detective

A/N - Season 1!Sherlock, the cutie. And friends to lovers. Two of my favourite things. I do not own Sherlock Holmes, the character, the universe, the adaptations or anything: this is a work of fiction set on the BBC adaptation of Sherlock. Did I still write 8.2k words (exactly) for it? Yes. I also don’t own the song or the lyrics used within, and if you fancy it, listen to ‘Kiss Me’ by Ed Sheeran while reading.

Warnings - Bad language. Mentions of murder and drug usage. Mild angst. Smut, loss of virginity, masturbation, oral m receiving, penetration, unprotected sex, so 18+.

Summary - After a fight with John leaves Sherlock feeling particularly down, he calls on the one person who is always there to support him. Only tonight, it’s different. Feelings come to a head, exploration ensues, but is this just a one time thing? That depends on whether she stays the night...

TO SHERLOCK, it’s just another normal day, whereas to John? He’d rather not admit how regularly these awful days roll around. Sure, the case didn’t go as well as it could’ve, and Sherlock admittedly could’ve made much more of an effort to comfort John after the apparent ‘heartbreak’ he endured. He just could not understand it. Why the hell was John so emotionally responsive to a case they’d been on for less than twenty four hours which turned out to be a bust anyway?

“You are absolutely unbelievable!”

“People die every day, John. You’ve killed people, as have I. It isn’t that great a surprise.” Sherlock deadpans, picking up his teacup, raising it to his lips, drawing a long sip from the warm liquid.

“Oh, yeah, of course. The proud, the cold untroubled heart of stone, that never mused on sorrow but its own.” John mocks. “Do you not even care that people are still dead despite the fact you solved the case?”

“They’d be dead either way,” he reiterates, “at least we got to them before they completely decomposed. Will me caring about them stop them from being dead? No, Dr Watson, it will not.”

“Sherlock!”

“John!” He mimics.

John slams his hands down on the desk, shaking the wood and everything resting on it, surely sending the vibrations through the floor and notifying Mrs Hudson of their ‘domestic’ as she so likes to call them. The buffalo even begins to swing. John’s tea is long forgotten, but Sherlock’s is keeping him grounded, calm, as John waggles his fist in Sherlock’s passive, blank face.

“You-” he pauses, gulping down breath. “You are a fucking machine, I can’t even deal with you right now. How dare you be so cold hearted and untroubled by this. You’re a disgrace.”

As if he hasn’t heard that one before, Sherlock scoffs.

Placing his teacup back down with a clink, he stands, the darkness of the night, of the room, closing in on them both. Nights like these really are danger nights, any night John leaves him. That’s what's coming next, but there isn’t a thing he knows to say or do to prevent the inevitable. He’ll simply just text Her instead, she’ll keep him grounded.

“Why? Emotional context? Emotion, whether of ridicule, anger, or sorrow, whether raised at a puppet show, a funeral, or a battle, is your grandest of levellers. The man who would be always superior should be always apathetic.”

With a huff like a bull, John viciously turns on his heel, blaspheming under his breath, cursing Sherlock out. He reaches for his coat and snatches it off the stand, slamming the door open.

“MACHINE.” John screams before pulling the door shut with a great slam, seething, the coat stand still rocking in his wake.

John’s footsteps thunder down the stairs, but before he’s even gone, Sherlock’s phone is withdrawn, and he’s tapping out a message.

Can you come over? Please? SH

It wouldn’t usually bother him as much. The case didn’t phase him, at all, but John’s opinion did. It always does. But today was a particularly long day of being brutish and rude, cold and distant, his usual and true self, but John’s more and more impatient with him now.

Being called a ‘machine’ is, again, nothing unusual, but this time it stings a little more than usual, especially after his recent arrest, and a fallout with Molly. He only has one person left, right now, who doesn’t hate him. His longest friend, the one he keeps away from it all so as to not tarnish her life with his misdeeds; Y/N, the one he can always rely on.

He knows she’s arrived by the sound of his window crashing open. Crawling up the bricks, skimming the drainpipe, latching onto the ivy; it’s her usual manner of entry. She never uses the door.

Putting his cups and saucers into the sink, he makes his way through the house, opening his bedroom door to find her already sitting there on the bed, her coat hung up on the hook, her work clothes clinging to her body.

“Hey there Mr Detective, you okay?” she asks as jovially as she can muster.

The way he ambles across the room, his dressing gown floating behind him, and slumps down onto the bed, instantly tells her he’s not okay at all. She can’t help but to look upon him sympathetically, edging a smidge closer to him, until he’s prompted enough to wrap his arms around her torso, finding his rightful place tangled around her. She knows him well enough - his past, and his current life - to realise she’s the only person he’s ever felt comfortable enough around to do this with, and that brings her a certain swelling pride in her bosom, one that doesn’t go unnoticed by Sherlock as he feels her skin heat up against his cheek.

It doesn’t take long, either, for his head to follow suit, burying into her chest. He’s always, always had a thing for her boobs, ever since they were in uni together.

That’s something so special about the two of them, he doesn’t have to say anything for her to know he’s not okay the way he does with everyone else. And naturally, he can read everything about her in a split second.

“I’m here, bud.”

Above all else, he just needs to know someone is there for him in moments like these. The world is cruel to him, and Y/N wishes more than anything that it wasn’t. Upon instinct, her hands stray, one to his back, pressing against the silk of his dressing gown, the other cradling his long neck, fingers knotting in the dark curls there.

She isn’t sure how long she stays there, simply holding him, feeling every twitch of his muscles, every breath of his against her skin, but she likes it. Of course she does, every time she likes it. Sherlock brings her an inordinate amount of comfort at the best of times, today is no exception, especially with what the day has held. Even when she’s the one comforting him, he doesn’t realise how much he helps her too.

His flat is so familiar, his bed as comfortable as her own. She knows his sock index, she’s studied his periodic table over his shoulder more times than she’d care to admit, and she even has her own toothbrush in the bathroom in case she has to pop over for an emergency freshen up. Sherlock has, and always will be, her first port of call, and that she remembers as she shifts further onto the quilted bedspread, her phone on his oak bedside locker.

His head begins to stir against her chest, his curls tickling her collarbones, small hums escaping his lips as he pushes himself up, his elegant yet trembling hands still splayed on her waist.

“I could feel your heart beating weirdly, what’s wrong?” he asks, quirking his eyebrows.

“Just the usual.” she vaguely replies.

Sherlock isn’t having it, though, and scans her a little more. “You’re still in your work clothes.”

“Great deduction. I was hoping you’d go a little deeper, though.”

“You hate wearing work clothes longer than necessary, which means you had plans straight after work, considering you finished… five hours ago? That’s your usual time for today. Counting overtime, forty five minutes, walk to your car, another ten, but your umbrella wasn’t working, round that up to an hour, leaving at 6. You arrived home, no, not home, at your boyfriend’s house for dinner. However, you’re not comfortable enough with one another yet for you to use his shower, or perhaps you are, but you elected not to, and stay in damp clothes that only had seventeen minutes to dry with the heater on in your car for the journey there. You ate dinner, Mexican, had a glass and a half of five percent wine, realised you couldn’t drive, but you didn’t particularly want to stay. Nonetheless you sat and watched the telly with him for hours, football, I can see the dreariness in your eyes. I know how much you hate it, and frankly, same. You stayed for almost all of the match, seeing as you’re now sober, but something else happened.” She lulls her head to the side, prompting him, her smile not meeting her eyes. “As soon as the match ended, he tried to make a move on you, he pressed his mouth to yours, he tried to push his hand up your skirt;” his throat bobs with a vicious gulp; despising the thought of anyone else laying a finger on her, “you swatted him away, rightfully so.”

He pauses a minute, his harsh tone of voice and his sharp face softening. He can see the vulnerability in her eyes, her walls about to crumble. This woman he appreciates so much. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

Smiling melancholically up at him, she brings her hand back to his hair, her fingers carding through the soft curls. His face buries back into her chest just as her voice offers a broken whisper, “I broke it off. I was the one who couldn’t commit this time.”

And as she lays her head on top of his, her breathing more shallow, resounding in her chest, he dwells over those very words. The way she said them, not to mention the words themselves, hold a myriad of meaning. What could she possibly-

Oh.

The subtext, yes, impeccable. She’s always had a way with implications and subtext, always knowing that the likelihood of him actually picking up on it is little to none. But now, now he’s become trained to her, her way of life, her way of thinking, her way of speaking. This is too good an opportunity to miss. If she means what he thinks she means, ever hopeful, then this is completely unfamiliar territory.

Gathering all of his courage in one deep breath, he begins to pepper kisses on her skin. The faintest brush of his lips on the tops of her breasts, all that’s available to him with her shirt the way it is. He feels her heart flutter, her breathing stutter, but despite the chemical flush of her chest, he still isn’t quite sure she likes it. Not until he feels her grip on his hair increase, and he glances up to see her head thrown back. Her spine delicately arches against his hand, thrusting her chest further into his face.

His nimble fingers reach for her buttons, undoing the top two, giving him space enough to find the valley between her breasts. Lathering kisses there, licking the swells of her boobs, his tongue pulsates with the increased thrumming of her heart. The sensation is new, so unbridled, and he doesn’t quite know what to do with the stirring in his loins right about now. That unknowing is only further amplified by the sound that rips from her chest when he involuntarily bites down on the supple flesh. It couldn’t be… a moan?

Sure, he understands the chemistry of it, the reactions that occur in the synapses of the brain, the pheromones and hormones released when one is aroused, but this is all new to him. And, from his embarrassingly basic level of theory, surely that doesn’t start until some more stimulation on other parts of the body commence? Nipples, perhaps something lower down… then again, what does Sherlock know?

Of course it’s an intimate moment, the closest he’s been to a woman before, and maybe that’s why he freezes, stops, and she tugs his head up by his hair, her gentle, pleasured smile with her lips softly parted deepening the look of bewilderment painted onto his face. Her eyes are twinkling, alight with an excitement he hasn’t seen for far too long.

“What are you doing?” she whispers.

He shrugs his shoulders with a sudden force, his dressing gown falling off a little. “I don’t know. But now I feel like I read your pining words all wrong.”

She gasps, a wheezing sound, sucking the air from the room. She smacks his arm gently, muffled by his button-down and dressing gown. “I wasn’t pining! I was saying.”

“Hmm, same difference.”

Everyone must acquiesce when it comes to Sherlock Holmes. “But no, you didn’t read them wrong at all, but I know you don’t see me that way, you don’t feel things that way.”

He pauses, his beautiful plump lips pursed, fidgeting on the bed. Brushing her hair off her face reveals the pain she expressed. However, her eyes glued on his, sadness is betrayed in every line of his young, clean-shaven face. His entire bone structure is taking a nosedive.

“For you, I’ve been feeling everything from hate to love to lust, and I guess that’s how I know I want to hold you close.”

“Sherlock...” she whispers, her singular word an inflection of surprise.

Never tearing his eyes from her, his hand comes up to her cheek, rubbing his thumb over the slightly blushing skin, searching her face, with his big blue eyes, for a shred of reluctance. But, all he sees is her, so he elects to do what his heart is yelling at him to do for once, and kisses her breathless. His full lips holding hers, his one hand on her face, the other still wrapped around her back. Hers fly around his neck, clinging to him for dear life.

It doesn’t take long, their movements steadily heating, for their previously slow, intimate kiss to grow into something more, Y/N pulling herself up from the bed and making herself comfortable on Sherlock’s lap. His breath hitches in his throat, a cute little hiccupping sound escaping his lips in between embraces.

As much as he loves just this, soft caressing and gentle petting, he just knows she wants more. He does too, that much is evident from the length prodding at Y/N’s inner thigh as she moves gently on his lap. She won’t make a move, though, he’s too inexperienced, and she’s too much of a sweetheart to corrupt him, so she thinks. Ever since he first saw her, she’s been corrupting him slowly. He didn’t realise at first, but over the years, he began to understand, and now he’s in too deep.

For Y/N? It’s always been him. Every breakup she’s had, she’ll come to Sherlock’s flat, full well knowing the real reason she broke up with them, because she couldn’t commit, because she was too caught up on him.

Skimming his hands beneath her shirt, he savours the press of his hands on her bare skin, warmth seeping from her body into his, his fingers dancing along her spine. Electricity shocks her in bursts, unlike anything else, from his touch alone.

“May I take your shirt off?” he asks.

“Fuck, yes.” she groans. “May I do yours?”

“Be my guest.”

In a tangle of limbs, a few buttons pop off, and eventually, two shirts make it out the other side, tossed from the bed and into the laundry pile. Aka Sherlock’s floor. He’s like that: sock indexes, yet he won’t get a hamper. A walking contrast.

His thumbs press beneath the band of her bra, savouring the pressure of the flesh that falls into his hands, but that’s as far as he gets.

“Never undone a bra before?”

He shakes his head sheepishly. “I know the theory. Just… you always wear peculiar ones.”

“I wear relatively normal bras, and this one is certainly bog standard. Had I known you’d be undressing me Mr Detective, I’d have worn something nicer.”

“Just do it for me.” He requests, chuckling.

She unfastens her bra, and allows her breasts to spill from the cups, into Sherlock’s awaiting hands. The gasp that erupts from him sends Y/N’s brain into overdrive. He’s cupped her chest through her shirt before, buried his nose into her cleavage countless times, but never before have they had such skin on skin contact. Her lips press to his neck, shifting her closer to him. Sucking on his pressure point, she receives a similar gasp in response, only this one is more guttural, more a sound of pleasure than surprise. He’s wilting from a single kiss to his neck.

“Has no one ever given you a hickey?” She husks in his ear, her voice alone sending tremors down his spine.

“N- fuck, no.”

“I’ll make it worth it. All of this.”

“I know you will.”

She fuses her lips onto his again, savouring the faint hesitations as he grapples with his breath, eager to get some control on his mind with all that’s happening. Never did she ever think Sherlock would be here beneath her, his rough fingertips brushing over her peaked buds, and his palms dancing over her waist. Never did she think she’d hear him whisper his next words, either, not in a million years.

“More.” he pleads. “Can we do… more? Whatever that entails?”

“That depends what you want to do.”

“Get me out of these damn trousers. They're rather uncomfortable.”

She snorts lightly, a piggy like sound, the one they bonded over all those years ago. “I can feel why.”

“I imagine you want out of your work trousers, too.”

“God, yes; they’re ghastly.”

“I don’t think so.” he hums. “You look nice.”

Her cheeks begin to burn, blood rushing to colour them, betraying her true feelings, but as he tweaks her nose playfully, the little snort escapes again.

They were in the dining hall, second week of university, almost ten years ago, and Y/N was sitting with her friends, downing enough coffee to sink a ship, eating her hangover away, when her friends decided to make her laugh with tales of last night's drunken events. Unbeknownst to her, one of the greatest minds of the twenty-first century was sitting just a few seats down on the half-empty bench, watching her perceptively in his periphery. That’s when he first heard the sound. The cutest thing, and it startled him into action, beginning his deductions almost instantly. Admittedly, her student ID on the table aided him a little.

He shocked her from her haze, too, as soon as he spoke her name.

“Y/N, eighteen, jurisprudence first year, freshers week over with. You left a boyfriend back home, but you’re more sad about leaving your dog, as I would be. You don’t particularly care about law but know it’s a good undergraduate to receive anyway. Dyed hair, extrovert, killer hangover, and apparently there’s a little piggy living inside your nose. Sherlock Holmes, would you like some aspirin?”

“That’s weird; what are you, some kind of detective?” She asked, sans malice, a playful bounce to her words.

“Chemistry, going for a masters. But I do like the mystery, yes.”

“So you’re… bright. Nice to meet you, Sherlock, and it seems you know almost everything you need to know about me. But yes, I will take that aspirin, if you don’t mind. How was your weekend?”

He smiled at her, the first true smile he’d given in a long time. “It was nice, thank you.”

And thus a friendship was born, all because he heard her little piggy snort.

Her slender fingers work wonders with the fastener and zip of his suit trousers, and even manage hers too, all within the space of a few seconds, but Sherlock is reluctant to let her go, even just to get her trousers off.

“I need to sit up, just for a minute.”

“No.” Sherlock commands, insistent. “We can make this work.”

“Sure we can, but it won’t be very comfortable. Come on.”

She’s barely peeled away from him and wrestled hers off before he’s drawing her back in for a kiss, his trousers settled just above his knees.

“Sherlock,” she protests, mumbling against his lips, her hands on his heavenly, broad, muscular shoulders. “Sher!”

Her squeal at his sudden tug on her panties disappears, captured by his eager mouth. And in fact, her panties seem to disappear along with it, thanks to Sherlock’s swift movements and nimble hands. Maybe he’s had some experience to be so good at this…

“You sure you wanna go this far?”

“More sure than I’ve ever been. I need you.”

He takes a deep inhale, dropping his forehead against hers, his breathing coming out in bursts as he tries to get a grasp on the situation. “Kiss me.”

She doesn’t need to be told twice, instantly getting to work on the waistband of his boxers as his tongue lavishes her own. His hips rise briefly, just long enough for her to tug the elasticated material from around him, slipping past her, and then he kicks it into their growing pile of clothes. His length falls into her awaiting palm, and-

“Wow.” She exhales in amazement. “If I’d known you were packing this much, I’d have jumped you long ago.”

“No you wouldn’t.”

“Absolutely not, until tonight I thought you’d just laugh at me.”

He pecks her lips affectionately, “Never. You’re bloody beautiful, I’ll let you do anything to me.”

“Hmm, anything, you say?”

Stifling a chuckle against her neck, he recommences, “Maybe not anything.”

Yeah, that's definitely the right call. Still, she finds herself all but clawing at him, her breath hovering teasingly just over his lips, their noses touching, her hands clamped to his cheeks, feeling the building heat there. She must be making such a mess of his bed right about now, but for one night? It can’t matter.

This is a one time thing, it has to be. Sherlock just needs to release some tension, she just so happens to be there. Still, she can’t prevent the little glimmer of hope shining through at the possibility of this being a more-than-one-time thing. The moral compunctions of their friendship after this don’t matter anymore, because he’s leaving a fire in his wake, his delicious fingertips digging bruisingly into her bum before trailing lightly up her spine, skimming her shoulder, brushing her neck - arched for him to reach where he wants, able to mark her as his own - and finally slipping over her lips, taken obediently by her awaiting mouth. Christ, if there’s one thing she hopes for tonight, it’s that his actions never relent.

Whether it’s what he intends to happen or not, his fingers in her mouth give her an idea, one she prays he goes along with at least a little, so she pulls away. The dirty, telling smile on her face hints at what she’s about to do, lending Sherlock to shift a little more up the bed, his eyes following her every move. Hands splayed on his thighs, her small fingers gripping onto the fine hairs there, she begins to take his tip into her mouth, never once breaking eye contact with him. Yeah, this is what’ll drive him insane.

Inch by inch, she takes him into the welcoming heat of her mouth, pulling off slowly, only to go down again. She adds her tongue into the mix at some point, too, and her hand, on what she can’t reach, tickling his balls, but further than that, his mind is blank. Hot white, washed with pleasure. The sounds he emits are other worldly, so much that he has to muffle himself with his own hand; what would Mrs Hudson say? He’s always had such control over his mind and body, but this… he’s slowly losing all semblance of control, and he’s not even mad about it. What he does know is that there’s a building heat in his abdomen, a coil about to spring, and his cock is beginning to twitch. If she keeps going this incredible way, her teeth grazing him ever so gently, adding another new sensation into the mix, he’s inexorably going to finish before he can help it.

“As much as I adore your torturous ministrations, I think I need to be inside you…” He husks, his voice deep.

A smirk gracing her lips, she looks up at him through half-lidded eyes, mischief glinting in her pretty little mesmerising eyes for a second, before she hollows her cheeks and takes him wholly, allowing his length to slip partially down her throat. Her moan reverberates around him, and Sherlock begins to thrash above her, scrunching the duvet in his hands, not caring if it creases. If there’s one thing Sherlock hates, it’s creases. And being called a machine by his best friend. Right now, though, it seems as though every misstep in his day has led him here, into the welcoming heat of Y/N’s mouth, taking him so eagerly, her tongue lapping at the vein on the underside of his dick, a string of saliva remaining as she pulls away.

“I think you’ve got a couple of rounds in you, Mr Detective. Can you do that for me?”

“Y-yes.” He stammers, his head tossed back in pure ecstasy a moment later as she begins to work on the head with kitten licks. “But… can I s- fuck me, say something?”

“I plan on it.” she chuckles, “anything.”

She goes back to peppering kisses all over his member, tip to base, brushing his balls, working her way back up.

“Touch yourself f- for me.”

“What? Why?”

Her tone is more inquisitive than anything else, but upon that playfully rueful look in his lust-darkened baby blue eyes, she knows he’s going to get her back for this little display, and he’s just worked out how. It works both ways, she can prepare herself for what’s to come next while pleasuring him. And he gets to watch. It’s a win-win for him. Maybe he likes this sex thing a little more than he’s letting on.

“Are you sure you want me to? I’ll just make a mess on your sheets, Sher.”

She swallows him again, bobbing her head up and down on his length a few times while he grapples with literal reality. He’s teetering on the edge. One more move, and he’s a goner. His head is already against the wall, lolled there.

“I don’t care about the sheets, darling, I need you ready for me.”

She gulps, nods, and reaches one hand around her, skimming over her stomach, until it nestles between her thighs. She rubs her thumb over his tip, collecting the pre-come beading there, while she rubs over her throbbing pearl, pressing softly. Then, as she inches down on his cock, taking him in her mouth, she also collects the slick from between her thighs, and uses it as a lube to push a finger inside herself. Of all the times she’s touched herself, she never imagined, even in her wild Sherlock fantasies, that she’d be doing it with his dick down her throat. With every bob of her head, she scissors herself more, sinking back onto her fingers.

“I think I’m-” Sherlock begins to say, his words cut off by an utterly obscene moan splitting the air.

She hastily abandons her one post, and wraps both of her hands around his girth, working on what she can’t fit into her mouth with her increased speed, licking and suckling his head as he begins to fall apart, coming, with a scream, down her throat, his one hand clamped over his mouth, biting down harshly to silence his cries; the other buried in her hair.

His whole body falls lax, completely spent, meanwhile, Y/N savours every drop she’s been able to draw from him. He softens in her mouth, allowing her change to slip away from him, grasping a tissue from the bedside to wipe away any excess. That’s certainly something she never thought would happen…

He’s calm, though, smiling lazily through hooded eyes, his breathing regulated once more, making beckoning motions to her with his big hands. He’s placated, though, and sliding her hands into his, she’s allowed time enough to get into place, smiling softly at him, raking her fingers over his scalp in a comforting way. Even as she sits herself on his lap, she can feel him hardening beneath her ass, slowly but surely. She was right about him, he’s definitely got another round in him.

“Do you have a condom?” he asks.

“No, sweetheart, they’re in my other bag. I didn’t plan on getting any for a while… do you?”

“Not in here, that I’m aware of. John may have stashed some in my less favoured dressing gowns or socks, and he definitely has some upstairs, but I’m unawares.”

“I’m gonna sound crazy here, but do we need one?” She says hesitantly. His eyes widen, he cocks his head to the side. “I was tested after my last partner, I’m clean, and on birth control. You’re a virgin. There’s no point, is there?”

“You have a considerably good point.”

With that, energy rejuvenated a little, he wraps an arm around her body, flipping them over so he’s on top, shadowing her, looming over her, gazing down at every inch of her naked beauty.

“Take your time. I’ll be your safety.”

“I know.” he whispers, a tearful smile making its way onto her face. “Thank you.”

He needn’t say more, because she already knows why she’s being thanked. For her kindness, for making him so comfortable, for accepting the fact he’s still a virgin in his late twenties and, if he’s being honest, has no damn clue what the practicality and reality of sex is. Sure, he’s seen porn. He’s also looked at John’s laptop. But that doesn’t prepare one for when the moment comes. It’s like all of that goes out the window, and he simply remembers the first time he opened a biology textbook at secondary school, pictures of flushed organs staring back at him, desperately waiting to be relieved. That’s what his own coock is like right now, already hard again, virtually pulsating with hunger in his palm. He strokes himself a couple of times, glancing down at Y/N’s wide eyes.

“Are you okay? Can I…”

“Yes, Sherlock,” she chuckles, “whenever you’re ready.”

Now, he thinks. He rubs two digits through her folds, gathering her wetness, enamoured with the way it glistens on his fingertips. Tentatively, he brings his fingers up to his mouth, swirling his tongue around them to get a taste. Eyes rolling into the back of his head, he moans. She’s better than any cup of tea he’s ever had.

His cock slaps against his lower stomach pleadingly, so he grasps it in his hand, and begins to enter her, pushing gently, feeling every flutter of her walls. Her arms fly out, hands grasping his shoulders, nails leaving crescent moons in their wake at the delicious stretch. It’s nothing like they’ve ever felt before.

“Can I move?” He asks, balls deep inside her, their pelvises flush against one another.

“Please.” She all but begs.

Before doing anything else, Sherlock hooks one strong arm around her body, malleable in his hands, and holds her chest against his. Her breasts push into his skin, her nipples gaining friction from the dusting of hair there. Her one hand cups his slender neck, the other, his sharp cheek. Their eyes meet in a fierce gaze of burning intensity, and he begins to move. Slow, calculated, sharp thrusts punctuate her core. With every heavenly stroke, he can feel the ridges in her velvet walls, squeezing around him unwittingly.

“Jesus,” she cries, her clutch increasing.

“Hmm, not quite.”

The smirk in his words is quite literally audible. He’s so cocky, so full of himself, and fuck if she can’t feel another gush of arousal coursing through her, drenching his cock. How does he manage to be so attractive when he’s so dishevelled?

“Is that good?” He asks, unsure.

“So good.”

She brings her legs up, skimming the clenched backs of his thighs, until they wrap around him, drawing his hips into her at a new and improved angle. Heels digging into the base of his spine, he begins to move with a new purpose, his thrusts more passionate as his breath is drained from him by her kisses, his eyes alight with a new flame.

“Oh my God, Sherlock.” She pants, pulling him in for a kiss he greedily returns.

He drives his hips deeper, squeezing his fingertips into her supple waist bruisingly. It’ll be a mark that she belonged to him once, even just for one night. That’s when he reaches that special spongy spot that makes her entire body buckle. She all but screams, pressing into him wholly.

The coil is building, ready to break. He seems to be nearing the edge, too, his member twitching inside her when he buries himself particularly deep. She’s oh so fucking close… She licks into his mouth filthily, desperately clashing her teeth with his, eager for his kisses to tide her over. Silence her. Shifting his supporting hand, he trails one dextrous finger around to circle her clit, adding the faintest pressure for a moment. She mewls as he groans into her hot skin, clawing at him, entirely at his whim. Now he knows where to press, he settled his grip back around her, and draws her in close. This time around, he bends his knees a little more to measure his movements more carefully, ensuring that he ruts up and brushes her sensitive bud with his pelvis, helped by the extra friction of his neatly trimmed pubic hair on every thrust within her, his tip just scraping her g-spot.

“I- Sherlock, please tell me you’re- oh sweet mercy- close.”

He grunts softly in her ear. “So close.”

Their lips meet tenderly, passionately, in what they acknowledge to be a final kiss, moans mixing between them, savoured by the other.

His thighs clench, her legs tighten around his waist, and finally, her sweet walls flutter, squeezing him as she reaches her climax, his not following long after, spilling inside her, painting her soft walls white, marking her.

“Y/N,” he cries in ecstasy as his orgasm reaches him. “Sher…” she repeats, her saving grace as pleasure washes over her entirely.

Their whole bodies wind up pressed together, bound together as one, skin on skin completely, becoming one another.

He lets her down gently, unravelling his grip, unsurprised when their sweaty skin sticks together. Her long legs unfurl, splaying in a butterfly. Sherlock tumbles ungracefully away, somehow landing with a certain gangly elegance on the space of mattress beside her, his arm instinctively flying over to place on her stomach, the skin hot and flushed red. Her chest moves hastily up and down with the thrumming of her heart, while his barely shifts despite his shallow breaths, his white skin glistening in the moonlight.

“Are you okay?” He huffs, turning on his side. “You look pretty fucked out.”

His baby blue eyes train instantly on her nipples, hard in the open air. This is the first notifier, the first inkling she has to feel self conscious, so she draws the sheet up around her as best as she can. Sherlock’s not having any of it, taking a stronghold on her arms, and pulling her until she’s lying on him, naught to separate them.

“I’ve never been this close to anyone physically and y'know.” He hums tiredly. She’s never heard him sound tired before…

She smiles up at him as best she can, “Are you glad?”

He begins to hold her ever closer, squeezing her tighter, feeling every ridge of her body.

“I’m so glad that you were my first, in so many ways.”

Praise from Sherlock is a rarity, and she’ll take it as and when she can, savouring every moment, this time by holding him like a koala, her grip not wavering.

“I’m glad too, Mr Detective.”

He brushes a kiss to her cheek, “As much as I like this, we need to get you cleaned up.”

A supporting arm beneath her bum, he picks her up, and unsteadily ambles into the bathroom.

“I don’t know much about this, but I know you should probably use the toilet, should you want to avoid a UTI, so if you’d like me to leave…”

He sets her down on the loo seat, cupping his hands over his nether regions, and he hurries to grasp for things, until she puts her hand on his arm, squeezing in a conciliatory manner.

“You do remember the camping trip, don’t you? You really don’t have to leave just because I have to pee, you never did before. In fact, you frequently annoyed me with it if you had a particular point to make, steadfastly refusing to leave the bathroom after following me in there when I went to pee. Why does this change anything?”

He shrugs, dropping whatever was in his arms, “It just doesn’t feel the same now, though.”

“Ooo, and now Mr Detective feels things.” She jokes, poking at his ribs.

He recoils, chuckling with her, “Only for you.”

As Y/N washes her hand, Sherlock begins to wrangle with a floorboard, clattering about until he eventually pulls out a small lock box, from which he withdraws a packet of brand new marks-and-spencer's ladies briefs.

“Why the fuck do you have these? Anything you wanna tell me?” she asks, eyes wide.

“John’s idea. He has plenty of girls over here who frequently stay the night, simply a precautionary error.” He takes a beat, gargling with some mouthwash, “they’re clean, new, I just don’t like the idea of you in dirty underwear, and I know how reluctant you are to go without them whenever you’re not in your own bed. I stayed with you enough nights in university to know that.”

Those nights were awfully painful. She’d take the floor, he’d take the bed, and every time she’d have to wash the sheets. He’d sweat and vomit, shake and cry, plead for the pain to be over. He wouldn’t go to hospital, he wouldn’t call his brother, he’d just turn up on her doorstep, high as a kite, almost in tears, knowing he’d gone a little too far. And each time, it was a little farther.

“Thank you, Sherlock.”

She takes them from him, and begins to shimmy them up her legs, only prevented by Sherlock moving to grab a handful of her arse.

“Hmm, I like this. Fancy another round?” He smirks.

“I’m too tired, babe. Give me a bit.”

He can see the lazy smile on her face, the tiredness in her pretty eyes, so he wets a flannel, and begins to clean her up with gentle movements between tender kisses.

“How do you know how to do all of this?” She asks, inquisitive more than anything.

“Instinct, I suppose. I never read or learned about it, seeing as I never thought it would happen.”

She snaps the waistband before moving her hands to his waist, leaning up onto her toes to reach him, kissing her softly.

“Look at you now.”

After brushing their teeth in an amicable silence, their pinky fingers overlapping on the porcelain of the sink, he aids her back to the bedroom, settling her on the bed. She has things here: deodorant, toothbrush, moisturiser, and yet somehow she doesn’t have underwear, even after all these years. Perhaps that's one too many things to explain…

With superfluous extravagance, he throws her his shirt, offering her a wry wink. She finds a blush clawing its way onto her cheeks, dumbfounded. It smells like him, just like a forest glade if it was rained on by tea and cigarettes. Maybe he’ll let her keep it as a memory.

In such a short amount of time, she’s learnt that he has a very sensitive neck. Very. A single kiss there has him biting back a moan. A low one at that, considering his deep voice also drops almost an octave when he’s aroused. His nipples are almost as sensitive as his neck, and he rather likes it when she tugs on them unwittingly.

His first orgasm comes quickly, but his refractory period is astonishing, and it takes longer to achieve a second high, long enough to make her come more than once, she assumes, though her first orgasm was mind blowing enough for two. Perhaps that’s just because it’s his first time, but it’s impressive nonetheless.

What’s the point in learning all of this if, once he comes around from his post-orgasmic haze, he’ll pretend like it never happened, in typical Sherlock style?

The shirt, though a small gesture, means a lot, and her vision begins to cloud as she looks down at the black cotton.

“You mean you want me to stay?” She croaks.

Sherlock turns to her from his set of drawers, his face full of apparent obviousness, brows furrowed in that cute bewildered way.

“Of course I want you to stay.” He states, like it’s the plainest thing in the world, like it’s stupid for her to even ask. But she’s silent, and when she says nothing in response, he launches into a long winded explanation: don’t show sentiment. “I- I just mean, i-it’s midnight, I’m not having you out in London alone. You stay with me. Only if you want to as well...”

She nods eagerly, “Yes. Yeah, course I want to stay.”

He all but leaps access the room, jumping onto the bed, before planting a proper smooch on her lips, grinning down at her. He slips into his usual side of the bed, and she takes hers, rolling to look at him.

“Don’t get cold.” He warns, tucking the duvet up around her shoulders. She giggles like a child, that small snort sounding again, prompting Sherlock to press his thumb to her nose like a button. “How are you… feeling?”

“I’m fine bub, really. That bloke doesn’t matter to me at all. Bit of a scumbag if I’m honest. You’re the one I’m with, the one I wanna talk about. How are you feeling? Must’ve been a pretty big blow up with John for you to call me and be so... teary.”

He sighs, crestfallen, “He called me a machine.”

Her gasp pierces the air, her hand flying to his hair, stroking in consolation, cooing senseless reassurances to him. She’s done this innumerable times, but now it feels different, like there’s no barrier.

“He’s done it so many times that it needn’t bother me anymore, but the way he looked at me, like I was this abhorrent monster, especially after the day and the disappointing case we had, it got to me. I hate having feelings.”

“You don’t have to hide them with me, though.”

He hums gently, burying into her chest. “I know. That’s why I treasure you so dearly.”

“That means you also have to trust me, and you’re not going to like what I have to say.” His chest heaves, shifting her whole body. That’s his way of giving in. “Please just talk to John. You know that whenever he leaves, he’ll come back, and try to pretend it never happened. He needs to know you’re human and that he upset you, but also that the case upset you as well. No one’s superhuman, and once you let John in on the fact that you’re not a machine, things between you will be so much easier, because you might agree for once.”

“I suppose you’re right.” He grumbles.

He pulls her into his warmth, hooking her leg around his as he snakes his arms around her back, breathing deeply from the crook of her shoulder. She begins to pepper kisses on his salty skin, savouring the taste with every small swipe of her tongue.

“Your heart’s against my chest, your lips pressed to my neck,” he breaks off with a faint whimper when she sucks a little harder, “I’m falling for your eyes, but they don’t know me yet.”

“Of course they do,” she whispers brokenly, hoarsely, “they’ve always known you.” She swallows thickly, “Does that mean it’s a feeling you’ll forget?”

“No, I don’t think I ever can.”

The silent words that pass between them both are so special, too special to be spoken aloud. ‘Think I’m in love now.’

“Kiss me like you wanna be loved.” He begs.

And really, who is Y/N to deny him? They just stay that way a little while, revelling in their lazy kisses, until she begins to fall asleep. It isn’t the first time she’s fallen asleep in his bed, not by any means, but it’s the first time she’s fallen asleep in his arms. She isn’t mad about it.

“Settle down with me, cover me up, cuddle me in. You were made to keep my body warm.” She smiles into her words, and embeds herself into him, entirely covered by the duvet, spattered in his kisses, safe in his arms. Sherlock feels safe with her legs around him, her fingers in his curls, holding himself against her. Amicable silence is how they drift off, Peaceful.

John re-enters 221B at a respectable hour. He got a fair amount of sleep on Greg’s sofa, having no girlfriend in the picture right now, but not enough to deal with Sherlock just yet. Not before his coffee. He expects to see Sherlock sitting in the exact same spot as when he left, perhaps just with a refill of tea, his fingers still steepled beneath his chin, eyes closed yet wide awake. Instead, he arrives at a seemingly empty, considerably clean flat, with no Sherlock in sight. Perhaps the unsleeping man must actually be asleep, he thinks, so he quietens down, and toes off his shoes before wandering farther into the flat. Even if the man does piss him off extraordinary amounts, perhaps he should just check he’s okay…

He gives the bedroom door a quiet rap, listening in momentarily before pushing it open. Frankly, he’d rather have found Sherlock with a cigarette in hand and the whole flat torn to shreds for the level of surprise he gets upon reaching the bed. His first idea is to scream bloody murder, but that might annoy Mrs Hudson, and upon stepping closer, even in the sliver of daylight through the curtains, he sees the duvet riding down a little. The last thing in the world he ever thought he’d see: Sherlock in naught but boxers pressed against a half naked woman, his palm splayed on her bare thigh. Sherlock? Spooning? It seems so, his entire body pressed to this woman. John feels himself go rigid, his feet glued to the floor, his gaze unmoving from shock.

It takes his phone to buzz in his pocket to get him moving, and when he does, all he tries to do is balance precariously on his tip toes in a wry attempt to get a birds-eye view of the whole thing. He’s not disappointed, or disturbed, once he does, though, his army agility proving useful. Sherlock’s hand is holding her, fingers entwined, just next to her chest. He wonders how comfortable it is, but if they’re staying this way, it can’t be too bad. Maybe all Sherlock needed to loosen up was a good shag.

She’s wearing his shirt, too; Sherlock’s black dress shirt from the previous day. And Sherlock? He never seeps in anything less than a full set of pyjamas, he’s weird like that .

This girl begins to stir, her lips parting gently, small hums escaping. Next, her eyelids flutter, and her hair shifts on the pillow. He didn’t make any noise, did he? John was specifically careful not to, just in case. He doesn’t fancy Sherlock’s wrath just yet.

One eye opens, and she whispers, almost incoherently, “Hi John.”

How she knows his name and who he is, he’s not at all sure, because he doesn’t think he’s ever seen this face in his life. The hair is familiar, and maybe, if she were more awake, he’d recognise her smile, but he’s never seen a woman in Sherlock’s company beside Molly Hooper. Speaking of…

Before he can even say anything, though, before he can ask who she is or if she wants tea or if she date-raped his roommate, she’s mumbling, and detaching her hand from Sherlock’s, rolling over. Dumbfounded, John just stands there and watches her cuddle into Sherlock’s chest, her arms wrapping around his torso like second nature. Even in his sleep, not consciously thinking about his actions, he grips her back - one hand resting just above her bum, and buries his nose into her neck.

John can’t help but smile to himself. Maybe their fight was for the best if Sherlock now has a girlfriend, someone he turned to for solace. So, he grasps for the top of the duvet and pulls it up over both of their figures, reaching their shoulders, and leaves, staring wistfully for a brief moment at the seemingly happy couple.

The weight of the duvet of what startles Sherlock, though, stirring him a little, inviting him to him against Y/N’s skin, smiling with eyes barely open. This is really nice, he thinks to himself, not waking up alone.

She smiles back blearily, and in her morning voice, whispers to him, “Kiss me Mr Detective.”

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xtodorcki · 3 years

Note

Oml I've had this request idea for so long so I was wondering how you'd do it. How about some headcanons/little scenarios of Levi, Erwin, and Hanji getting caught making out with their fem so by someone else in the scouts? 😏 This has been in my head so LONG soooo I feel like you would portray it well

“Caught,” Levi x Erwin x Hange Headcanons

okay okaaaay cute idea🥺

Summary: getting caught making out with your s/o by another scout.

Warnings: implied smut with Erwin

Fem!Reader

Levi:

He’s always been the type to be clingy and openly affectionate in private. He never really liked PDA or even being flirty with you in front of others. He liked to cherish you behind the closed doors and show you how much he loves you there.

It never bothered you, you were always professional when it came to your work so you agreed with him about not wanting to show too much of your relationship to the other Scouts.

One day Levi was more clingy than usual, he said it was only because he had a nightmare about losing you and it felt too real. The entire day when no one was looking, he would touch you in any way he could. Grabbing your hand, touching your lower back. He felt like he needed some slight touch of yours to be reminded you were still here.

Around the afternoon, he had forced you to stop your work and come to his office. It had bugged you but you couldn’t sit there and complain about Levi wanting to be around you for every second.

He was just a teddy bear, very hands on and loving so him having a dream about you no longer being here- it had crushed him in ways he couldn’t explain. He was deeply in love with you, he couldn’t handle losing you so the slight dream just fed into his insecurities and anxiety that he had to be around you.

As you stepped inside his office after knocking, his eyes lit up when he seen you and instantly stood up from his desk as you walked over. His arms embraced you in a tight hug, his lips kissing the side of your head and a sigh of relief slipped out of his mouth.

“Why did you call me here?” You mumbled, rubbing his back and he grunted under his breath, his eyes moving to look at you.

“Just missed you is all.” He barely said loud enough for you to hear, feeling embarassed for admitting that out loud. He felt dumb for bothering you and taking you away from your work to see him but he felt like he needed it desperately.

“Hm, because you missed me?” You teased, making him roll his eyes and his hands grabbed a hold of your cheeks firmly, staring into your eyes.

“Yes,” He quietly said, admiring you as his thumbs rubbed over your soft skin.

Time felt like it had frozen still just for a moment, his eyes burning into yours and another huff escaped his mouth as he tried to rid the insecurities he had replaying in his head.

You could tell how frustrated he really was, he hated to be deep into thought about everything- especially when it came to negative thoughts. You moved your hands to rest on his sides, gripping onto the material of his shirt and tugged him closer.

You wanted to take away his troubles, his thoughts and his anxiety. You wish you could easily take it from his hands and deal with it yourself, he deserved to be happy everyday.

As you felt his thumbs brush over your cheeks, you leaned up to press your lips on his. A gentle kiss but it definitely made him feel better, making all the stress slip off his shoulders and replaced with love and butterflies.

His hands stayed firmly on your cheeks, afraid of letting you go but also not wanting you to pull back from his lips. He just needed this a little longer. He had tilted his head, leaning more into your mouth as both of your lips moved in sync with one another.

Suddenly the door had opened up, Armin and Jean walking inside while calling for Levi before noticing the scene before them, making them freeze in the doorway and made the both of you break apart and glance back at the door.

All four of you stared at each other, the awkward tension and not really knowing what to say about what had just happened. Your relationship wasn’t a secret, no, but it wasn’t clear if everyone knew about it or not considering you two aren’t much of a pda type couple.

Armin and Jean’s eyes were wide, they had no clue about your relationship so walking in felt like they violated your privacy and saw something they weren’t supposed to see.

Levi grew frustrated, staring at the both of them and crossed his arms over his chest as he gave them a cold stare.

“You either speak on why you’re here or leave.” He simply said, causing the both of them to stumble on their words and Armin ended up just grabbing Jean and dragging him out of the office.

“We’re so sorry, we didn’t see anything. Ignore us.” Armin rushed out, grabbing the door and shut it, hearing them panic as they go down the hall,

“You scared the poor boys.” You glanced over at Levi, making him roll his eyes and meet your gaze.

“Maybe they should learn how to knock.”

Erwin:

Erwin is the type of person who likes to have everyone know you’re his but he’s also very professional in his work and making sure that his work and your relationship don’t intertwine and ruin one another.

He’s always kept his head screwed on and he always treated you more like a colleague while working and you always done the same to him. He cared a lot about his job, it was one of his favorite things along with you.

So, it didn’t bother you to have him focus on his work during the day and come home to cherish you ten times more. It was a good mixture to keep the relationship healthy and stable.

But one particular day, you found yourself a bit more needier and trying to go about your work as if nothing is wrong was bugging you. You couldn’t help but think of Erwin repeatedly, the other night replaying in your head of him touching you in all the right places.

It was really starting to annoy you, sure this has happened before but the other times it was easy to manage and ignore. This time it just was on the tip of your brain, repeating like a broken record and it was starting to make you go crazy as you keep catching yourself zoning out and daydreaming about it

You were stationed on the opposite side of the base, trying to concentrate on the plan for the expedition coming up and as you sat there trying to listen, it was getting more evident that you were dozing off into thought.

After a while there was a meeting that had to be held with most of the Scouts, mainly the higher ups, to discuss the next expedition but you were too lost in your train of thought to even realize what they were saying.

“Y/N.” Levi snapped his fingers in your face and your eyes shot up to meet his, the scary plain look on his face and you could automatically tell he was irritated.

Erwin had looked across the room, noticing you zoning out and he tried not to think too hard about it, you two were at work- not at home but he felt like there was something wrong, maybe you were upset or too in a depressing mood to work.

As the meeting went on, it had finished up and Erwin had asked for you to come to his office and at first you thought that he had caught on and it had actually excited you a bit but the both of your thoughts were far from similar.

Once you stepped inside, you turn to face him as he shut his door and you reached out to grab a hold of his hands. He had looked at you with concern and before he could ask you what’s going on, you had smashed your lips onto his.

He was a bit taken back but he couldn’t deny that he liked the sudden kiss from you and he wasn’t too phased since it was inside his office. Your hands had moved up to cup his cheeks and eventually sliding them back to tangle in his hair, both of your lips molded together.

Suddenly the door had creaked open and someone had grunted loud enough for the both of you to hear. Erwin had ripped away from you, both of your eyes moving to meet with Levi’s as he shot you both a disgusting look.

“Please, there’s a lock on the door for a reason.” He rolled his eyes, walking inside and slamming the papers on Erwin’s desk before returning to the door.

“My apologies.” Erwin spoke, making you hold back a laugh at how red his face was from embarrassment.

“Tch, save it. Just lock the fucking door.” Levi shut the door behind him and that’s when a laugh had slipped past your lips.

Erwin was completely flustered, his cheeks heated up and the look of fear knowing Levi had caught the both of you making out. You didn’t find it that much of a big deal, it was Erwin’s office after all- not his fault that Levi didn’t know how to knock.

“Whats so funny?” He raised his eyebrows in amusement at your small fit of giggles as you shook your head.

“It’s funny how flustered you are.”

“I’m not flustered.”

“Hun, your face is more red than a tomato.” You pointed out and he huffed out a breath, moving to sit down at his desk trying to rid of the thoughts of being walked in on.

“C’mon, it’s not that bad. We were just kissing.” You teased, leaning over his desk to place another kiss on his lips and he looked up at you, the small smile edging in his lips.

Erwin remained silent, his large hand reaching up and caressing one of your cheeks as his thumb brushed over you skin slowly. He released another breath, the sight of you instantly making his nerves calm down and the embarrassment slip away.

“Still humiliating.” He said sacrastically, a gentle chuckle leaving his lips and you rolled your eyes.

“Better get over that thought because I’m not finished with you yet.” You mumbled, grabbing a hold of his chin and he had looked at you surprised.

You couldn’t care less about Levi walking in, your main thoughts were still on your boyfriend and the previous thoughts you’ve been having all day and being seen making out wasnt going to stop you from getting what you wanted.

“Oh?” He simply said, collecting his thoughts and finally realizing what you had been talking about and it made him realize why you’ve been zoning out all day. It made sense.

“This time, lock the door.”

Hange:

Now, Hange never cared what anyone thought whether it was about her or her work so she wasn’t ashamed or phased in the slightest when she got into a relationship and she sure wasn’t embarrassed to show it off and to show you off.

But you, on the other hand, were the opposite. You were really shy and awkward when it came to opening up and you were always flustered when it came to the Scouts teasing you about your relationship.

You weren’t embarrassed or ashamed to be with her, you were more than in love with her but you weren’t used to this sort of attention, you’ll admit that she’s actually your first relationship so you were still getting used to it.

You worked under her, being apart of her team and helping her with a lot of research studies she was obsessed with, that was the main reason why you two gotten so close.

As you stood inside her little lab, sitting on a stool and reading over papers while she mumbled to herself about some theory she was testing out. You glanced over at her when her mumbling got louder. Hange is always unaware when she starts talking to herself when working, you thought it was cute.

All of a sudden a loud excited scream left her lips, almost startling you and she jumped up.

“I figured it out!” She laughed more to herself, completely forgetting you were in the room as she grabbed her pen and began to scribble down on her journal.

“Figured what out?” You spoke, your eyes turning back to the paper before you and her eyes shot towards you.

“Something about Eren’s titan form.” She couldn’t hold back the excitement running through her veins as the adrenaline was pumping through, making her more hyper than ever.

She went over to where you were, her arms wrapping around you from behind and she glanced over your shoulder to see what you were reading before sliding it away from your vision.

You turned your head, raising a eyebrow all while the butterflies swarmed your stomach when her grip around you tightened, her lips planting a gentle kiss on your cheek, making your cheeks grow red.

“What?” You asked, noticing how concentrated she was on you and you were almost convinced you had something on your face.

“Nothing nothing, I’m just happy is all.” Her voice was low, making a small smile come across your lips.

Hange couldn’t help the overwhelming amount of love she had for you. She was deeply in love, more than she can explain out loud and it was never her intention to fall for one of her cadets or anyone in the Scouts period.

But the day you came in after the training corps, set on being under her team and wanting to work with her little experiments and loving her theories just as much as she did- she suddenly fell right into that deep hole with you.

She always thought that she would only be in love with her work and her job. She never seen herself with anyone before you only because everyone thought she was crazy for being so obsessive over the Titans and wanting to learn their way of thinking and behavior.

But you, pushed her in the right direction and always gave her good advice and made her feel more confident in her work, even though she was pretty confident before but having you was like a big bonus.

You could tell she had gotten lost in her train of thought again, she always zoned out and thought about you and it was always cute to see. Soon she had snapped out of her, her attention back onto you and she leaned down to press her lips on yours.

It was a soft kiss, definitely meaningful to the both of you. Your hand moved up to cup her cheek to keep her in place, tilting your head and leaning more into her. The small make out session was starting to get heated pretty fast but it ended abruptly when the door had opened, both of your eyes shooting over to the door to see Eren.

“Oh- I’m sorry, I didn’t- I wasn’t- I didn’t see anything.” He stuttered, quickly walking out and shutting the door behind him.

“Don’t worry about it, kid!” Hange shouted as Eren’s face turned bright red, quickly walking down the hallway and away from the room, trying to rid the scene he just witnessed.

She turned to look back at you, your face completely flustered and bright red again. The embarrassment lingered over your head like a rainy cloud and she couldn’t help but laugh at it.

“So humiliating.” You mumbled, shaking your head as you looked down to hide your face considering how hot your skin was.

She quickly grabbed your chin and tilted your head up to look at her, the small smirk on her face had made you almost melt beneath her fingertips. Her lips kissed your red cheek a few times, trying to hold back her laugh.

“Don’t be embarrassed, it’s his fault he barged in here.”

“I’m still embarrassed.”

“Don’t be!”

Anywhooooo, been a long few days. 🥺

• Main Masterlist •

• AOT Masterlist •

#levi ackerman fanfic #levi ackerman imagine #levi ackerman imagines #levi ackerman x reader #levi imagines #levi x reader #levi imagine #levi fanfic #erwin smith headcanons #Erwin imagines #Erwin x reader #hange imagines #hanji imagines #hange x reader #hanji x reader #aot imagines #aot headcanons

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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years

Text

MC’s Date With the Side Characters is Going Terribly and Then it Starts to Rain

Brothers ver.

Diavolo

It was a tragic truth that the poor Crown Prince didn’t get to go out and have fun very often, but he had managed to get a singular day off! He of course was going to spend it with the future monarch-consort of the Devildom!

Diavolo had a whole list written out that was full of fun cliche date activities that he wanted to try, and it was also full of stuff MC said they wanted to do, so the date was going to be completely perfect.

As Diavolo and MC walked hand in hand to Madame Scream’s, they both took notice to the fact that literally every single demon in the vicinity was staring at the two of them.

The crown prince laughed it off, saying that MC looked so positively radiant that everyone couldn’t help but stop and look. MC laughed and leaned their head against Dia’s arm, but both of them knew full well that everyone was really staring at Diavolo.

To be fair, wouldn’t you stare if the most powerful person in the entire realm walked by holding hands with a pathetic little human?

They got to Madame Scream’s, got their sweets, then Diavolo got a phone call. It was Lucifer frantically explaining that the RAD gym was on fire and he needed to run everything by Diavolo before he could do anything about it.

That ate up about fifteen minutes and the desserts ended up getting cold… Diavolo tried to make light of it as the two finally got to eat their chocolate chip cookies.

“So apparently one student thought it would be a good idea to set a firework off inside, you know I encourage having fun at school but maybe they should have set this off outside.” “Maybe..?”

Next it was time for a romantic walk on the beach! That would have gone better if Diavolo remembered it was giant-crab season. As cool as it was to watch Diavolo hammer-throw an eight foot tall crab into the ocean it left MC’s ankles vulnerable to get pinched by regular sized crabs.

And maybe they both should have wore appropriate shoes… they were sinking into the sand and it was getting into their shoes…

Okay, so the beach didn’t work out, Diavolo had plenty of other ideas! They just had to- wait he was getting another call.

Half an hour later, Diavolo was finally able to hang up and gave MC an apologetic look. He said that he needed to cut the date short and go to an unavoidable meeting…

Oh well, at least this date couldn’t get any-

A loud crack of thunder caused Diavolo to nearly drop his phone in surprise. Oh… oh no… not rain…

Large droplets of water pelted the pair as they waited for Barbatos to pick them up. Diavolo slowly lifted up his arm and shielded MC from the rain as best he could. Well… this outfit was ruined, the least he could do was try and save MC’s…

“Well…” Diavolo tentatively began. “I heard getting caught in the rain is supposed to be romantic..?”

MC only sighed and moved a little closer, they folded their arms and stared blankly ahead. Their glassy expression made the crown prince’s heart sink right to the floor. Maybe he could cancel the meeting! He promised he’d spend more time with MC and he intended to keep it!

“MC, I could-”

“Dia, no.” MC looked up and gave him a small smile. “It’s okay, I’m okay. I knew what I was getting into when I said I’d be with you. Your kingdom is more important than one little date.”

“But I wanted to make you happy today…” Diavolo mumbled. His kingdom had always come first, before his friends, before MC, before even himself, was it so much to ask to have just one day for him to spend with the person he loved?

The human reaches up and lowered Diavolo’s arm and looped it around their shoulders. “And you did, any time that I get to spend with you makes me happy. Besides, it wasn’t all bad. The crab moment was pretty awesome.”

MC pulled out their DDD and showed Diavolo a picture of himself chucking the giant crab into the watery horizon. “We can put at least one moment of this date into the photo album.”

The precise tapping of the falling raindrops cause the DDD to flick to the next picture, which was an awkwardly angled snapshot of MC brandishing a stick at a much smaller crab who had attached its claws to their ankle.

“Uh, maybe not this picture…”

Barbatos

The poor butler rarely ever gets a day off, and he could tell MC missed spending time with him, so he asked Diavolo for a day off.

Of course Diavolo said yes, but when the day of the date came…

Barbatos saw every mishap and disaster coming a mile away. The smart thing to do would be cancel the date, but NO. Barbatos was going to use his powers for good and make sure MC had the time of their life!

The first disaster was supposed to come in the form of a pickpocket stealing MC’s wallet, key word being supposed.

As the perp made their way through the somewhat crowded sidewalk, fully prepared to swipe some wallets, Barbatos quickly twirled and dipped MC out of the way. This action also conveniently had the result of Barb knocking the pickpocket out cold.

MC of course, was none the wiser of the attempted theft and just assumed Barbatos was being suave (tm).

The second disaster was both MC and Barbatos getting hot coffee accidentally spilled all over them. Or it WOULD have been if Barbatos hadn’t quickly notified the person that would have spilled the drink that their shoelaces were undone.

Hell yeah! Second disaster averted!

The date progressed smoothly, well, as smooth as it could have gone. All those days of work and the task of making sure MC was none the wiser of any of the nasty things that could have ruined the date was really making Barbatos tired…

“Barbatos, are you alright?” “*exhausted breathing* Y-yes dearest, of course. Don’t trouble yourself.”

MC would have bought that lie if Barbatos didn’t look like he had just finished running a ten kilometre long race through a heatwave.

After making sure MC was not in the path of the escaped hellhound that would be running down the street in three, two, one, there it went, MC was safe and sound, Barbatos sighed in relief.

Just one more thing…

In the smoothest possibly motion, Barbatos opened the umbrella he had been carrying and held it over himself and MC.

MC looked up at the umbrella perplexed. “Barbatos, why-”

Thunder rumbled as the first drops of rain pelted harmlessly against the umbrella. Barbatos smiled softly and took MC’s hand. “Did you enjoy the date, darling?”

“Have you been doing damage control all day..?” MC asked. “Oh no wonder you look exhausted…”

Barbatos’ face burned with embarrassment when MC wrapped their arms around him.

“You work way to hard, this date was supposed to be relaxing for the both of us,” MC sighed. “You know what? We’re going to go back to the Demon Lord’s Castle, and I’m making you tea and snacks.”

“MC..?”

They began to pull Barbatos in the direction of the castle and plucked the umbrella out of his hand.

“I’ll hold this.” MC smiled brightly. “You relax, mister.”

Barbatos was about to protest, then sighed, no future he could see in his brief overview involved MC giving up on their new mission to make him take a break. He felt himself smile, he really lucked out with this human, didn’t he?

Simeon

The next volume of TSL had been released and Simeon was officially completely exhausted. He had spent the past two days signing special hardback copies and his writing hand was officially deceased.

He needed to relax and unwind… who better to do it with than MC? Simeon simply invited MC over to Purgatory Hall to hang out.

Oh my~ premarital eye contact~

It was just so nice, MC rested their head on Simeon’s chest while they lounged in bed watching TV, their hands gently intwined, the smell of Luke baking cookies…

Simeon let out a content sigh, he was truly and completely at peace in that moment. The soft knock on the door to his room barely phased him.

Solomon poked his head into the room with a bright smile.

“Hi you two, so sorry to barge in on your date, but before Luke took over the kitchen I made way too much food. I’ll bring some in for you guys!” “Solomon no-” “Wait!”

The date was now in intense danger. They needed to get out of there immediately! The first thing the angel could think to do to save the love of his life was to throw them out of the window.

Fret not, MC’s fall slowed considerably and they gently landed on the grass outside thanks to Simeon’s magic, but the angel himself was not as lucky. Yes his fall was slowed, but he still faceplanted into the dirt.

The two ended up running for dear life away from Purgatory Hall, further exhausting Simeon.

Well, at least they ended up near a very pretty fountain. Simeon and MC sat on the fountain ledge and resumed their snuggling.

Until Simeon got a phone call from a very frantic Luke begging for help with his math homework.

Due to being quite rusty at the subject, Simeon had to teach himself how to calculate the square root of something and then teach Luke, which was honestly frustrating for everyone involved.

After the homework was felt with, Simeon got ready to sit back down on the fountain ledge, ended up missing, then slipped straight into the fountain. It was a good thing that the water was shallow…

Then to MC and Simeon’s horror, it began to rain.

“Well…” Simeon sighed, he accepted MC’s hand and allowed himself to be pulled out of the fountain. “This isn’t so bad..?”

Lightning cracked in the distance, Simeon pulled MC into his arms on reflex, only to then realize that MC had become just as soaked as he was.

“I… sorry, MC.”

Simeon slowly unwrapped his arms from around MC, but the human remained firmly in place. “Ah, it’s fine. Want to call a cab or back to Purgatory Hall?”

“Y-yes, that sounds-” Simeon felt around for his phone, then winced and looked into the fountain. His phone was lying at the bottom of the fountain… “Do you think you could call?”

MC perked up and planted a kiss on Simeon’s cheek. “Of course, we can cuddle in the car.”

“That sounds wonderful…”

Solomon

Solomon decided to text MC at two in the morning to ask them out. In his defence, he was up late making potions and didn’t notice what time it was.

“Hey MCMCMCMCMC-” “ITS TWO OCLOCK IN THE FUCKING MORNING.” “Wanna go on a date tmrw?” “…ok.” “🥳” “see you tomorrow, Solomon.” “Oh yea- that reminds me- look at this snail I saw yesterday.” “Effervescent.” “Marry me.”

Obviously super happy that MC said yes to the date, Solomon was newly rejuvenated and went back to making his potion. It was six in the morning when he realized that maybe he should have just quit while he was ahead and went back to sleep.

It was a little late for that! He needed to go to school, then go on the date. Solomon gracefully took MC’s hand, led them out of the school, then fell down the stairs.

It um… may have messed up his tailbone. Solomon never felt more like an old man than when he and MC sat down at the cafe for coffee and MC had to help him into his seat.

The coffee arrived, MC and Solomon drank it, and Solomon just sighed in relief. This was nice, time with his sweet MC…

The way they made him feel so completely at ease… that smile… those eyes… those eyes were looking very confused-

“Solomon…” “Yes my sweet?” “There’s uh… there’s a giant spider on your head…”

…Solomon looked up and the giant spider fell right into his drink. He wasn’t thirsty anymore.

A little later, he and MC were walking hand in hand through the park, the darkness of the Devildom was almost comforting as the fireflies and pixies created little balls of light that danced around the pair.

It was such a soothing sight to behold, Solomon and MC sat down beneath a giant tree. MC rested their head on his shoulder, and Solomon let out a content sigh. He was just going to rest his eyes for a moment…

Solomon was harshly shaken awake by MC who yelled at him for falling asleep in the presence of pixies. Solomon had completely forgotten that pixies like to possess sleeping people. That was probably why he was awoken in the middle of stuffing his face with cookies that were in his backpack.

The two unanimously decided that it would be best to head back to Purgatory Hall. When the two had just returned to civilization… Solomon heard thunder.

Quick as a flash, Solomon looped his arm around MC’s waist and pulled them closer, using his other hand to draw a circle above them, when the rain began to fall, the two were completely dry thanks to the shield.

“Ha… HA! HAHAHA!” Solomon pointed and laughed at the sky. “GOT YOU BITCH!”

“Solomon..?” MC asked tentatively. “Are you alright?”

The sorcerer looked at his dear sweet perfect MC, gave them a toothy smile, and shook his head. “No darling, I’ve been awake for 56 hours.”

“Wait what? You texted me at two in the morning, you couldn’t have been awake for more than an extra few hours..?”

Solomon peppered MC’s face with sleepy kisses as the rain pattered against the shield. “I have a weird life.”

“You know what, I buy it.” MC sighed fondly. “Do you want to go home and sleep?”

“More than anything, I’ll teleport us home!”

“NO! Let’s just call someone to pick us up!”

#Obey me #Obey me!#Obey me Diavolo #Obey me Barbatos #Obey me Simeon #Obey me Solomon #obey me headcanons #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date?

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secondhand-trash · 3 years

Text

Put a Ring on It

A/N: I started it with the intention of writing a thirst post but it ended up being 1.7k of pure fluff lmao

Pairing: Miya Atsumu x reader

Description: Miya Atsumu had a thing for wearing rings.

Word count: 1772

Miya Atsumu had a thing for wearing rings.

Maybe it was how he thought that they made his hands looked bigger, or how the accents never failed to draw even more attention to his slender fingers. Likely, it was just the way how most teenage boys went through a phase of wanting to look stylish and edgy without really bothering to look into having an actual style of their own, resulting in him halting a baggy t-shirt, cargo pants and an unnecessary amount of rings as the peak of men’s fashion. You had your own thoughts on how he was so determined to slip a ring or two into whatever he was wearing whenever he was out of his uniform. You made fun of his sense of fashion none stop, pointing to his bleached hair that has faded from the gold it was supposed to be into a sharp yellow and cheap chunky jewelry as the main culprit.

“You look like a delinquent who smokes cheap cigarettes in parks after school.”

You sniggered when he let out an offended ‘huh’. His chunky silver rings that had obnoxiously prominent carvings on the side brushed dug into the gap between your fingers as he squeezed your hand tighter when he snapped towards your direction. Your free hand, the one that wasn’t in a lock hold by his ring clad one, reached out to brush away his side-swooped bangs. His hair was fried from the boxed bleach he used regularly but as a side perk, the dryness did add to the volume of his hair.

He stood there still as you carefully pushed his hair back, his upper body leaning towards your direction just a little so you didn’t have to struggle to reach him despite his initial protests. You were messing with his hair and he was looking at you, only at you, with his fingers still linked with yours even though you always complained about his rings making it hard for you to hold his hand.

You finally pulled back and your gaze dropped from his bangs to his eyes. Your heart skipped a beat when you met his eyes and they were full of you.

You cursed your weak heart for its sudden moment of swooning when he stood back up straight and his ring scratched against the inside of your finger.

You sighed, “You are so lucky you have a nice face so that people will be too caught up to notice how you dressed.”

Atsumu pretended he couldn’t hear the second half of the sentence and decided to focus on how you said he had a nice face instead.

But then you graduated from high school and he slowly started dressing less like a disastrous teenage boy and more like a proper adult. That athlete money did him well and he was finally able to dress the way he wanted to dress without having to turn into a questionable direction because of monetary limits. The baggy pants were gone from his closet, replaced with pants that actually fit his body and elevate things instead of holding back the visual upper hand he was supposed to have because of his physiques. He finally stopped bleaching his own hair after your many years of nagging but you nearly lost your composure when he showed up in front of your door to pick you up with his new hair for the first time.

“I got the stylist to trim my bangs for me,” he said as he ran his hand through the curl sitting at the side of his forehead and you gulped when you realised that his hair was soft enough for fingers to go through them with ease now, “I’m still trying to get used to not having things over my eye.”

“Oh?” you replied, your voice breathy as you tried to calm down your sea of thoughts at the sight of your boyfriend’s new look.

You were aware that he was good looking, but everything that he was not born with used to be questionable so it balanced things out. Now he was wearing tight-fitted jeans that made his legs look even more toned as if it was even possible, with a white t-shirt that was tugged in loosely. He had a blazer on too, probably because you made him take you somewhere nice in celebration of his first VLeague cheque, but at this point you were almost certain he had that thing on just to drive you insane.

And his hair, his god damn windswept fluffy no longer bright yellow hair.

“Do you think I should grow it longer?” he asked as he rubbed the tip of his bangs between the pads of his finger. The silver that sat at the bottom of his digits contrasted starkly with the pale gold and it finally dawned upon you that he stopped wearing the cheap rings you used to make fun of him for a while ago.

Oh dear, now he was actually hot.

“No,” you blurted out, “it looks nicer this way.”

"You think so?” he asked as you forced your legs to move past your door before shutting it behind your back firmly. You had to force yourself to go out before the urge to make him come in could win, or else you would most certainly end up doing things that would make you miss your reservation.

And you had been excited to leech off of his athlete money.

“Yes, yes I do think so,” you said as you grabbed his hand to pull him along with you.

You groaned in satisfaction when you realised his new rings did not stop you from sliding your fingers between his like the old ones did.

You started having fewer objections towards his choice of accessaries after his general fashion sense shifted for the better. You even started liking the rings after a while, crediting it to him opting for designs with more simplicity. You liked the way the metal was already warm from his heat when he put his hand on your thigh out of nowhere because he was bored, or when he was at the driver’s seat and the pad of his finger drummed against your skin steadily as he waited for the lights to change. The warmth of his hand always brought you security and he was well aware that nothing called your attention to him like it did. You were not even sure if he was aware, but he had a habit of toying with his rings whenever you were neglecting him because you had your attention on something else. The band he was playing with always ended up off his finger and up yours when you were least expecting it, the feeling of his calloused finger holding your hand as he slid it down always managed to call your gaze back to him.

‘What a child,’ you chuckled to yourself when he looked at you innocently like he could not be having any hidden thoughts, his hand still holding onto yours as he held the ring that was too large for your finger from falling down.

So being the child he was, who always couldn’t fathom the thought of letting you leave his side and was equally eager to let the world know he wasn’t leaving yours, it did not surprise you at all when you were tidying up your drawers one day to find a velvet box tugged all the way back into his sock drawer.

You had a feeling it was exactly what you thought it was, and you laughed at the image of him trying to find somewhere to hide it in the house while you were not around.

Of course, leave it up to Miya Atsumu to hide a ring at the back of his sock drawer because he thought it was the one place you wouldn’t look into unless you were left with no choice.

You giggled to yourself and closed the drawer, letting the box stayed right where it was.

You weren’t looking. You wanted to, but you weren’t. Because you knew he would whine to no end if you didn’t look as surprised as he wanted you to be when he finally showed it to you for real.

He still had no clue that you already knew it was coming when he got down on one knee and took the box out of his pocket with shaky hands. He cried when you said yes and you cried when he started crying, even though you had already rehearsed in your head for a million times on how you would say yes ever since you saw the velvet box inside of his sock drawer.

He was still sobbing when he realised he needed to get up from the ground, wiping his tears away on the sleeve of his very expensive blazer before clumsily taking the ring out of the box to put it on your finger. Miya Atsumu was an ugly crier through and through and you finally admitted to yourself that you were a whipped fool when you still wanted to kiss his stupid face even though his eyes were swollen and he missed your finger a few times before finally getting the ring in.

“Now we match,” he said with a hiccup, laughing but sounding like he was about to break down into another round of tears as soon as the chuckle left his mouth, “you can’t make fun of my rings anymore.”

He was so dumb, and you felt like crying again when he took out an identical ring from his pocket and put it on his own hand. Who the hell does that? You wanted to laugh at him but you couldn’t, because you knew you would start sobbing again if you do that.

“You’re an idiot,” you said, grabbing his hand to steady him because he was shaking and you were sure he might just drop the ring if he kept fidgeting.

He sniffled, grinning ear to ear through his tears when he saw the ring that sat on your finger.

“So?” he said, happily holding your hand in his to look at how perfectly it fits, the rings and your hands, “You can’t get rid of me now, I got the ring to prove it.”

You huffed, but couldn’t stop yourself from smiling when he rubbed his fingers along his engagement ring like he was making sure that it was still there.

You decided that it would be your favourite ring of his until you get to put the wedding band onto his finger yourself.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu imagine #miya atsumu imagine #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu imagines

469 notes · View notes

alluringjae · 3 years

Text

it’s a royal order - jjh

⤑ summary: one of your royal campaigns became a success, and your bodyguard jaehyun was there to see it all happen. it’s only fair to celebrate, right?

⤑ pairing: jaehyun x female reader

⤑ word count: 2k

⤑ genre: fluff, suggestive (dirty talk, jaehyun got a daddy kink, superiority complex!!), implied smut | bodyguard!jaehyun, princess!reader, slight enemies to lovers!au, modern royal!au (where south korea remains under monarchial power)

⤑ warnings: mentions of alcohol, drugs, family problems and therapy, explicit language

⤑ author’s note: this is definitely less emotional than all i do is wait! i got this idea from a show i really enjoyed before it got cancelled named the royals. specifically, i really liked the story of eleanor and jasper, which is the whole princess x bodyguard dynamic. the pining and tension, ugh! if you know this show or not, it doesn’t matter. anyways, thank you for the 30+ followers and 200 notes on aidiw! enjoy!

i need holy water because of this piece.

⤑ credits to jeongjaehyuns for the gif above uwu

⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

“On behalf of the royal family, I would like to extend my utmost support for the Anti-School Violence campaign for all students to have a safer and more meaningful learning environment.” You proudly announced to the board of officials alongside other influential individuals in Korean society.

Being the only princess in the current royal line may have its pressures, but holding a strong, direct impact for a brighter future for the people motivated you to take advantage of your platform for the better. As the image of pure innocence and revamped women empowerment, you aimed to accomplish all the things your mother wished she could before her untimely death alongside your personal aspirations.

Expressing genuine joy with the campaign, with a tinge of desire to annoy the old-fashioned and closeminded officials, your prying eyes were more enamored by a certain man in the back clapping by the ballroom doors. You can’t help but act flustered whenever he witnessed you in a state of success and satisfaction.

This man went by the name Jeong Jaehyun, your trusted bodyguard since you were in your early twenties. 3 years later, he still stuck by your side and helped you endure all the darkness as a royal.

Back then, you went through a rebellious phase that was ruining the image of your family. Clubbing almost every night, drugs, skipping school, you even managed to get all assigned bodyguards to quit! The media ate up all your tricks, turning them into scandals. That was the plan, of course. You desired your own freedom from all the royal obligations because you didn’t ask to be born into that lifestyle. To all of your peers who wished to be in your footsteps, you would’ve impulsively passed your title to them. There’s so much deception that lies behind the glitz and glam of it all.

This unexpected change in your former untainted attitude came to the point that your father, the king himself, stepped in and personally assigned one of his men to get you in check. He figured that appointing a guard nearest your age may lessen the tension and mend you back together.

In the start, you absolutely despised him. There was no way to fool him when you were up to no good. He easily found your alcohol and drug stash which he disposed of on the spot and stood by your bedroom door every night so you wouldn’t sneak out past curfew (which your father also strictly implemented).

One big turning point in your relationship was when he rushed you to the royal hospital when you drank a cocktail that went unnoticeably spiked. To think that this was a typical social gathering with other royals and officials, you’re a constant target to many. You didn’t wake up for a few days, and the entire time, Jaehyun willingly stood by your bedside and outside your hospital room.

Since that and more instances your father insisted you get involved in royal affairs, you softened up. As cliché as it was, the more time spent with him, the more you knew about him and vice versa. He was the one that got you to fully open up about your grief towards your late mother, encouraging you to seek help. Turns out you weren’t as different as you thought despite your differing ranks in society when he also had a void for a missing parent. In his case, it was his father, who ditched his family for his mistress. Silently, you helped each other recover from your traumas alongside therapy. From dreading his presence, you started treating him more casually. Your father’s tactic of assigning a bodyguard around your age admittedly worked.

Oh, how time flies.

This campaign was the last thing on your weekend agenda, so you had the entire late afternoon and evening to yourself. Bowing one last time to the audience, you stepped down from the platform and accepted the soft hand of your bodyguard, who quickly made his way to you despite the flashing cameras. It was something he got used to as it is part of the job.

Once he successfully ushered you out of the ballroom, his hand still held yours. Nothing new, except this event was quite public and you didn’t want anyone to get any wrong ideas. Strolling down one of the many hallways in the palace became a pastime for the both of you, where no one can catch you. It was a safe haven within the destructive life of the Park kingdom.

“You did phenomenal as I expected, your highness.” Jaehyun complimented, recalling your panic the night before as the stage fright hit strong when you were reciting your speech to him over and over again.

“We are in private, Jaehyun. Must you really use those formalities with me?” You taunted, bobbing your head sideways mockingly. With him could you felt like a normal young adult, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. Jaehyun loved being frisky with you, catching you get irked up. And he was up to do it again.

“Hmm last time we strolled these halls, Yuta caught us making out after a successful meeting with the Prime Minister.”

You gasped at his statement, conscious of whoever may be in the vicinity. But before you could refute, your hand that was interlocked with his were mightily slammed against the white wall. You lost your breath for a moment, his warm body closely on yours. His free hand freely roamed up and down your covered waist. His lips were dangerously near your neck, where you’re sensitive. Your hips naturally grinded against him to release the pent-up tension.

“Something tells me you want to do it again, princess?” Now he’s just using your title as a pet name, but you couldn’t complain. It just hits differently when the situation was set up like this.

“I deserve it, don’t I? Got a lot of those hell-driven officials on my side for this round.” You raised both your brows cockily, licking your lips.

“Hell yeah, you do.” Finally, he rids of the tension and plants open kisses on your bare neck. Your throaty moans were uncontrollable, and you could care less.

“My princess,”

Kiss.

“So intelligent,”

Kiss.

“So benevolent,”

Kiss.

“So helpful,”

Kiss.

“But,” He changed his pace and direction, swollen lips near your ear.

“But?” You question naïvely. He scoffed, smirking at your antics of playing dumb.

“But a total slut for her bodyguard.” He dominantly planted his lips against yours, one of his veiny hands gripping on your waist and the other by the arch of your butt. He was hungry, needy even. Due to your shared schedules, it’s been a constant struggle to have proper alone time from the snooping eyes of Korean society. After all, it wasn’t in the norm for a princess to fall deep for her bodyguard. Nor were you sure you would be accepted by anyone. Yuta, the bodyguard of your oldest brother, the crowned prince Jinyoung, finding the both of you at that time was a total shock but didn’t care either.

All that mattered was that your feelings towards each other are real and strong. Accepted or not, you had each other.

All this lust put you in a daze, wanting much more than another smooch fest in the hallway. Tugging on his belt, he squeezed your butt tightly. You emitted a moan, which allowed his tongue access. No way could you keep your hands to yourself, touching his upper body and the flexing of his abdominal muscles from his button-up. You felt his now hard member poking through.

Analyzing your area, you were on the other side of the palace. Farther to your bedroom where numerous rendezvouses were made, one kink you’ve considered in the past amplified your mind. Considering this area was also the king’s side, and he was abroad for royal affairs, this was your chance.

“I have an idea, my love. You up for it?” You rose a brow at your lover, challenging him. Not one to overpower this man in bed, but always suggesting a way on how to spice it up.

“And what exactly does your feral brain want to do with me, princess?” His finger lifted your chin so you meet eye to eye. You can just see the fire still burning, and oh how you were ready to intensify it.

“The main ballroom, where my father and late mother’s throne rest, are a few doors away.” Your fingers signal him to lower his stance as his tall height was difficult to reach. With a sneaky smirk,

“Let me ride you in the king’s throne, my love.” Your lips brushed over his and sucked his bottom lip, tugging him by his belt. He groaned, squeezing your butt. “It’s a royal order.”

“Nasty, your highness. Insanely nasty, you are.” His hands hoisted your waist, boosting you up in his arms. You gasped with profanities, ravenously cut off by his lips again. His nails digging deep in your bare thighs, your legs naturally linked themselves around his torso while your arms passionately intertwined his broad neck.

In between kisses, he carried you to the said main ballroom. One of your wildest imaginations, just a second away. This room remained to be the only place without any guards stationed technological advancements or updated interior designs to preserve its traditional beauty. Dated as far as the 19th century, only special events were held and the highest of the high were allowed inside. Spacious, surrounded by gold linings majestic paintings of angels from above with a huge crystal chandelier right above the center. Right ahead, the original thrones that your ancestors, grandparents, and parents sat on when they were throned in its pure glory.

Pushing your lover on the king’s throne, the gold sun-like rays plastered behind the headrest, he cockily leaned back and manspread his legs for comfort. He rubbed his hands before patting his thigh, waiting for your submission. But you weren’t going to give in just yet.

Not when you prepared a mini-show just for him underneath your designer silk dress.

Jaehyun’s solemn eyes marveled over your gorgeous figure as you stripped down one strap after the other. Due to its silk fabric, it effortlessly dropped down to your figure to reveal a new set of black lace lingerie from your previous trip to Paris. Ages ago, Jaehyun unhesitatingly ripped your favorite ones during his birthday, so you decided to get a mature version of it. A version where your bra lifted your breasts more and undies hiked up to your waist to elongate your legs. Only for the eyes of yourself and the man in front of you, establishing that you were a powerful woman who can be absolutely anyone she can be. Princess, a normal young adult, or his slut, it’s up to you how you see yourself.

Jaehyun mumbled all the profanities he could think of at the moment. Looking like a divine angel when the sun from outside shuns behind you, his slacks tightening so much more than a while ago.

“All this for me?” He ogled shamelessly, undoing the buttons of his dress shirt and untying his necktie. “What did I do to deserve such regal treatment?”

You sneered at his comment, stepping out your dress in your heels and stationing right in front of his luring lap. “You’ve always been there for me, thick and thin. I think you deserve a reward, don’t you think?”

Lowering yourself to straddle him, his breath hissed when your damp core collided with his crotch. Distracted and caught in your trap, “I don’t think you answered my question, my love.”

Rather than a verbal response, he roughly pulled you back in for a kiss. His hands scattered to explore from your back down to your waist. Your hands messily ran through his hair, tugging on some when your body got too sensitive to his wild touches. The thrilling sounds of the two of you drowning in your fiery romance bounced throughout the ballroom, not minding if anyone passed by the hallways outside. It was a private room after all, and whatever happens here, stays here.

Rolling on his crotch while his lips trailed down to your collarbones, the quick snap of your bra wires echoed. The tight lift lessened as Jaehyun’s fingers dropped the straps, unveiling your bare chest covered in his marks.

“Enough playing, princess. Let daddy have some real fun with you.”

933 notes · View notes

cherienymphe · 3 years

Text

Joke’s On You (Joker x Reader)

WARNINGS: DUB-CON, NON-CON, ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP, knife play, blood play, murder, violence,

IF ANY OF THIS OFFENDS YOU, PLEASE DNI

➥ {page breaks done by @whimsicalrogers}

summary: you’re a part time thief who keeps getting in the Joker’s way. What starts out as rivals quickly turns into something hot and heavy, and before you know it, you’re J’s girl. Whether you want to be or not {based off of this headcanon}

The first time you ever come face to face with the Joker, the clown king himself, is during one of the first night’s you first started to execute your grand idea. You went through a klepto phase when you were a kid, but you never expected you’d return to it, and definitely not on a bigger scale like this.

It wasn’t like you were homeless or right on the poverty line. You had money, quite a bit in fact. One of the perks of being a stripper in the most popular club in Gotham, but there came a certain thrill from stealing from the rich in this city. Sure, you took their money on the stage, did everything you could to make them empty their pockets, but taking their money right out from under their nose was different.

You’re not sure when you came up with the bright idea, but you knew that if you wanted to keep this up and stay out of prison, you had to get smart about this. That was where the Joker came in. That clown ran this city, and you knew that with him around, no one would dare to even notice you. If you made your hits the same time as him, you could get in and out to no one’s knowledge.

It was a solid plan.

Until it wasn’t.

You almost ruin his plans to send a bank up into flames, and your eyes briefly meet his cold green ones before you’re taking off. You half expected to hear the sound of gunshots, even expected to get hurt or worse, but you can hear him telling his thugs to stand down. He doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by your presence, no real threat, and you’re unsure if you should be offended or not.

You had never seen the man himself up close before, and you’re shocked to realize that he’s taller than you imagined. More intimidating than you imagined. Despite the fact that he barely paid you any mind, you can’t help feeling like he’s going to break into your apartment and slit your throat. You’re a petty thief, nothing like the big criminals in this city, and your run in with him spooks you. It takes a long time for you to fall asleep that night.

You quickly put it behind you though and tell yourself that you just have to be more careful from here on out. It soon becomes obvious that that’s easier said than done. You hadn’t meant to get in his way when he was taking the mayor hostage. It was an honest mistake when you almost kept him from breaking some other danger to society out of Arkham, but the nail in your coffin finally comes when you do prevent him from robbing a bank truck.

You barely ducked in time as a bullet came flying past your head. You’re shaken up, but you manage to force yourself to get the hell out of there before the cops showed up and before the Joker took another shot. You should have known that he was going to be expecting you. The Joker was a lot of things, but stupid was not one of them.

You walk right into a trap, and you’re in the bank vault, hands full of money when you feel a sharp tug on your hair. You swallow down a yelp as you’re yanked back into a bare chest, and your eyes widen when a hand curls around your throat. You may not be the best villain in the world, but you’re one that can defend yourself, and the walls of the vault shake as you fight back.

He’s stronger than he looks, but you’re stronger than you look, and you both realize this when he has a gun pressed to your forehead while you have a knife at his throat. Your heart is hammering inside of your chest because not only are you once again face to face with the Joker himself, but he’s seconds away from killing you. You feel like you’re about to throw up, and he’s clearly amused.

He tilts his head at you, red lips parting to reveal a shiny grin, a laugh bubbling in his throat as he presses the barrel of the gun even further into your skin. His purple coat hangs off of him, pale chest heaving and that’s how you know that despite his grin, he’s irritated. Maybe even mad.

“…and what do they call you?”

His voice is deep, and that takes you by surprise. A lot of things about the infamous criminal are taking you by surprise.

“What does it matter? You’re going to kill me anyway, right?”

He hums, stepping closer with a sneer.

“I haven’t quite figured that one out yet…maybe I will when you tell me your name…”

“Well, I haven’t quite figured out what I want to be called,” you honestly told him.

No one but him and his goons knew about you, so you had never counted on anyone else knowing about you either. The thought of an alias never crossed your mind.

“Trying to steal my shine or something? You want to be the big dog around here?”

“Oh, please,” you scoff, and if he had eyebrows, you were sure he’d be raising one at you right now with the look he gave you.

He narrowed his eyes, and in one movement, he ripped your mask from your eyes, making them widen. He looked down his nose at you, taking in your all black attire before finally resting his eyes on your face.

“…or don’t tell me…you’re one of those girlies who thinks she can run around with me?”

You frowned at him, and he continued.

“I take it you’re a big fan.”

His tone was mocking, and you had the urge to spit in his face, but you knew that would surely put a bullet in your head, so you simply rolled your eyes.

“Hardly. With you around, no one will even look my way. Your taste for the dramatics allows me to stay below the radar,” you told him.

He hummed at that, tilting his head from side to side as he weighed your explanation in his mind.

“That’s smart, and I gotta hand it to ya, I didn’t think you were smart.”

Your frown deepened at his backhanded compliment, but it was quickly wiped from your face when he tightened his hold on his gun, and your eyes widened.

“Smart, but not smart enough to stay out of my way-.”

He was interrupted as the building shook, and you both turned as gunshots reached your ears. While he was distracted, you slipped out of his grip, ducking in time to miss a bullet before turning the corner. A recognizable shadow passed over the walls, and you ducked into a nearby hallway just as the winged vigilante himself met the Joker as he stepped into the hall.

The air hitting your face reminded you that your mask was gone, and you quietly made your way to the back exit as the sound of fighting and gunshots grew fainter. You released a sigh of relief when you made it outside, and although you didn’t have anything to show for your excursion, at least you had your life.

A thin layer of sweat clings to your skin as you step down off of the stage, feet aching in your heels. A coworker of yours winks at you as she takes your place on the stage, and you wish her luck. Customers were being a bit stingy today, and considering your last heist granted you with nothing, your lack of cashflow today had you more annoyed than usual.

Sure, it was a Tuesday afternoon, but it was still the hottest club in Gotham. Customers of all types of backgrounds frequented the place, and although the old money crowd practically lived here, you had a love hate relationship with their kind. They tended to be the stingiest with their money despite having more than you could ever dream of.

“What time are you off?”

You turned to another girl who worked at the place, Mandy, and threw her a grim look.

“12.”

She grimaced, blue eyes filled with pity as she shook her head.

“Sheesh. Well, that’s what happens when you’re the best dancer in this place,” she said with a shrug. “Your demand is high.”

“High demand and low pay. What a treat,” you sarcastically replied.

She chuckled, but she quickly swallowed it down, eyes glancing past you. The club was already loud, but there seemed to be an uptake in noise, and you turned to find the cause. You froze where you stood, eyes wide and lips parting at the group of people who just stepped into the place.

All of the men varied in size and shape, all dressed in black as they made their way inside like they owned the place. You supposed that in a way they did. Anyone following the footsteps of the Joker probably felt like he could get away with anything. The man in question led the bunch, strutting past patrons with a dark look in his eye, green hair contrasting against his dark red shirt.

You quickly turned back around, squeezing your eyes shut as Mandy let out a low whistle.

“I haven’t seen him step foot in here in forever,” she commented.

You looked to her with a confused frown.

“What?”

“Oh, yeah. You’ve only been here for what, half a year? The Joker used to come in here all the time. They’d get a bit rowdy but what is that when he’s the highest paying customer?”

She shrugged, reaching for a tray of drinks, completely unaware of your internal dilemma. It was almost time to get back on stage.

“Have fun,” she purred, walking past you.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to calm down as you stewed over what you should do. Sure, you were a thief in your spare time, but you couldn’t lose this job. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t walk out of here, so you straightened your shoulders and made your way back to your stage.

You kept an eye out for pale skin and green hair, and you were thankful to find him far on the other side of the room. He and his crew were occupied by another dancer, Mandy serving them drinks. You were thankful and carefully stepped onto the stage.

As usual, you attracted a nice sized crowd, and you made sure to keep your face turned away as you moved around the pole. You were pleased to find that this crowd was more generous with their money, but your satisfaction was short lived when your turned to find your boss gesturing for you to come off the stage. You were confused but did so anyway. He nervously scratched his dark beard as you approached, and you had a sinking feeling in your gut for some reason.

“What is it?”

He grumbled and jerked his head towards the other side of the building, and you hesitantly looked over his shoulder. The Joker’s goons were having a good time tossing money at the dancer on stage, a few of them clearly drunk. The green-haired man, however, wasn’t partaking in the festivities. His unreadable gaze was focused on you, and your heart sank when he didn’t break the stare. You were forced to when your boss spoke.

“He wants a private session with you,” the older man mumbled, and you’d be dumb to miss the fear and concern in his voice.

You internally cursed.

“You’re kidding…”

“…’fraid not. He was very clear in his…request,” he responded.

You both knew that it wasn’t a request. The Joker never requested anything, and you briefly closed your eyes, positive that this was going to be your last night on earth. Your boss placed his hand on your shoulder, gaze sympathetic…and pitying.

“Just do what he says, alright?”

He wasn’t just telling you that to make more money, but to keep you from becoming the clown’s next victim. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that your fate was already sealed. With a nod, you strutted past him and made your way to the other side of the room. The Joker’s expression didn’t change as you approached him, and you nervously swallowed. His cold green eyes seemed to follow the gesture, and you took a deep breath.

“Someone request a private room?”

Again, he said nothing, simply tilting his head to the side as his trailed his eyes over your scantily clad form. Some of his posse was still enamored with the dancer before them, but the rest had turned to not so discreetly eye you. They all looked away when the green-haired man stood, and your eyes fell to the sliver of skin that peeked through the top of his shirt, unable to hold his gaze.

“Right this way…”

You didn’t hear his footsteps, but you could feel his presence behind you as you led the way to the back where the private rooms were located. The walk was quiet, thick with tension, and you wondered if it was too late for you to start saying your prayers.

You went in first, blinking at the red glow of the room that came from the neon lights. You were shaking, stomach churning as the door clicked shut behind him. You turned to tell him to get it over with when his hand wrapped around your throat, forcing you to swallow your words. You let out a pained squeak, eyes watering, but his lips swallowed any other noise you threatened to make.

Your eyes were wide as he roughly kissed you, shock coursing through you while his mouth moved against yours. You stumbled back in your heels, but he quickly followed, teeth nipping at you so violently that you tasted blood. You wanted to tell him that this wasn’t that kind of club. This was not in your job description and was not allowed, but you remembered your boss’ words and wondered if he knew that this was what the man wanted?

Even still, you couldn’t go through with this, but his tattooed hands were ripping at your attire before you had the chance to voice what you wanted to say. Your lips were finally free to tell him off, but the only thing that came out was a yelp when his teeth sank into your shoulder. The pain you felt was quickly overshadowed by the pleasure that warmed your stomach when his fingers brushed over you.

You pushed against his chest, but his other hand grabbed your wrist, spinning you around so that your back was pressed to his chest. It happened so quickly that you didn’t have time to ponder what was happening until he was already inside of you. One hand was tangled in your hair, face pressed into the seat of the sofa as broken moans escaped your trembling lips.

His free hand was pressed into the skin between your shoulder blades, holding you down while his hips snapped into you over and over again. He was far from gentle, but every harsh stroke only seemed to stroke that fire inside of you. Your lashes were fluttering as he thrust into you, eyes rolling while you tried to make sense of everything.

You could feel his nails pressing into your back as he pinned you down, and your own scraped against the fabric of the couch while choked moans climbed out of your throat. This was far from how you expected your day to go. After all, it wasn’t that long ago that this man was trying to kill you. You fluttered around his unrelenting cock and tried to remember why that was a bad thing.

He let out what sounded like a growl above you, the fabric of his pants pressing into your skin as he ground against you, and his hand in your hair moved to the back of your neck just as the tightening in your stomach snapped. You came around him with an embarrassing scream, going limp beneath him as he fucked you through your climax, diving headfirst into his own.

You collapsed the minute he let you go, vision blurry and throat sore as you heard him zip his pants. You were still shaking, and he was already gathering himself together like nothing had happened. Like he hadn’t just fucked you delirious. You moved to stand, ready to give him a piece of your mind, but you collapsed back onto the couch.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you heard a low chuckle in his throat. Either way, you didn’t get to ask him because the sound of the door slamming shut reached your ears seconds later.

The next time you ran into that stupid clown, you took great satisfaction in striking him square in the face. You didn’t care that he was surrounded by his band of hired muscle nor that you were currently standing in the middle of a jewelry store, alarm blaring in your ears almost painfully.

He gestured for the men around him to continue looting the place, seeing as they had paused to take in the scene. You knew they would have killed you without hesitation had he told them to. You glared at him as he grinned at you, bat perched on his shoulder.

“We’ve gotta stop running into each other like this,” he lowly said.

“That was for the last time we ‘ran into each other’,” you sneered. “I don’t care who you are, you don’t get to-.”

“Consider it my way of letting you get off easy.”

He chuckled at his play on words, but you weren’t amused in the slightest.

“Get off easy? Are you even crazier than everyone thinks?”

His grin was gone in a flash, and he stepped towards you, tapping his bat against his shoulder as he leaned in. His lips were parted as his eyes bore into your own, and you forced yourself to stand your ground as the scent of him invaded your nose.

“If you recall,” he slowly began. “You’re supposed to be dead.”

You swallowed, jaw clenching as he tapped his finger against your nose.

“The plan was to put a bullet in that pretty little mouth of yours. Does that…ring any bells?”

You pressed your lips together, glancing away as he let out a breathy chuckle.

“Fucking you brought me more satisfaction than killing you ever could,” he deeply said.

You felt heat rise to your face, and he tilted his head, lips brushing against your own as he spoke.

“So…I suggest you keep me satisfied…”

His coat flew behind him as he spun away, stomping towards one of his men to bark orders at them. Anger and humiliation coursed through you as you stomped outside, and you narrowed your eyes as the sound of police sirens drew nearer. With a sneer, you grabbed the knife in your holster before slashing the tires on his van.

That kept you satisfied throughout the rest of the night, but you paid for it dearly the next day at the club. This time, he hadn’t even waited until you were in the room. His hand had curled around the back of your neck as soon as you got to the door, forcing you inside as soon as he opened it.

You had stumbled in your heels, falling to your knees, and he was there before you could even rise. His hand was on your neck the entire time he slammed into you, the carpet scraping against your back. You could hardly breathe, let alone moan as he had his way with you, and you knew that he was genuinely angry this time, and you wondered how he managed to escape the police.

He was punishing you for your little stunt, but God did you love it. Your hands fisted into his bright red button down as he slid into your soaked walls, trying to pull him closer. You heard him hum every time you clenched around his throbbing member, the sound of your arousal reaching your ears. You should have been embarrassed at how wet you were, but the Joker seemed to enjoy it just fine, and besides. You saw no reason to pretend.

Like the last time, he was righting himself as soon as he was done while you lay on the floor, still trying to catch your breath. You let out a soft chuckle as he slammed the door behind him, and you wouldn’t be surprised if you weren’t even able to talk in the morning.

This little game between the two of you became something of a regular occurrence. You’d make your hits when and where he did his to avoid exposure, and sometimes things would go wrong on his end. Some mishaps were genuine accidents, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the way he’d take out his frustration on you.

He fucked you like an animal, and you loved it because sometimes you couldn’t even form words afterwards. And best of all, he wasn’t trying to kill you anymore…just your vagina.

One day, he didn’t leave as soon as he was done. He stood over you, watching as you fought to control your breathing. When you realized that he wasn’t making any moves to leave, you peeled your eyes open to look up at him from your place on the couch.

“…what?”

You nervously sat up as he dug into his pocket, eyes widening when he pulled out the shiniest bracelet you’d ever seen. He dangled it in front of your face, a low hum escaping him as you admired it.

“Saw this shiny little number in the display. It had my little thief written all over it…”

He jerked it away when you reached for it, so you reached higher, gasping when he closed his free hand around your wrist. You watched as he snapped the expensive piece of jewelry around your arm, and you brushed your fingers over it the minute he let you go.

You were forced to pull your eyes away from it though when he harshly gripped your chin, pulling your head up so that you were looking at him. His green eyes bore into your own, face unreadable as he pressed his red lips together.

“You like it, doll face?”

You couldn’t hold back your grin, and you nodded.

“I love it,” you told him, unaware of the implications behind the gesture.

You started showing up to work with all kinds of new things. A new pair of earrings, a necklace that wasn’t that before, even some new heels that didn’t hurt your feet as much. You figured it was just a perk of fucking the king of Gotham, of keeping him satisfied.

You didn’t know that it went beyond mere satisfaction and thankful gestures.

It was a late night, or early morning depending on how you looked at it. The club was almost at its peak, the early hours of the morning being your busiest. You hadn’t seen J in a few days, but it wasn’t unusual. The man was basically running an empire.

You were servicing a client, a regular who could never stick to one dancer. He had a habit of hopping between the ladies at the club, and it looked like this week, he’d chosen you. The loud music filled your ears as you slid your hands over his shoulder, thighs brushing his as you danced on him. The bass from the music made your body vibrate, and your eyes fell closed as you fisted one of your hands into your hair, chest pushed forwards.

The man had already given you a handsome sum of money, and you knew that if you put on your best show, there was plenty more where that came from. The loud music prevented you from hearing the rise in voices as a new patron entered the club. It also prevented you from taking note of the worried chatter that had only just started to emerge, but it didn’t drown out the sound of a gunshot that you flinching.

However, you didn’t open your eyes because of the gunshot. You opened your eyes at the feel of droplets landing all over your face, hair, and clothes. You faintly registered the sound of screams surrounding you as people fled from the club, tripping over one another. You stumbled back, frozen in place as you stood up straight, hands raised in front of you as you stared at your dead customer in shock.

He was dead.

That much was more than clear, but you were having a hard time wrapping your head around it. Heavy footsteps slowly made their way over to you, and you hesitantly looked over, terrified eyes connecting with familiar green ones. His eyes were wild and crazed, green hair pushed back away from his face, gun swinging back and forth on his finger. He looked good in his all white suit, not a spot of blood on him.

You wished you could say the same.

“Are you insane?” you screamed, legs trembling.

“Well, that’s what they tell me.”

You frowned at him as he threw his head back and cackled, and you shook your head, fighting to clear it.

“Why did you do that? What’s wrong with you?”

He abruptly stopped laughing, slowly lowering his head to gaze at you. His lips parted into a mocking grin.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with you? I leave town on business for a few days, and I come back to find my girl practically screwing some punk for the whole club to see,” he slowly said, voice low and threatening.

Your anger kicked you into gear, and you stomped towards him, a frown on your face.

“I am not your girl, and even if I was…this is my job! You know this is my job-!”

Your words were cut off, and you winced as he tightened his hold on your neck. Your feet were barely grazing the floor as he walked forwards, forcing you back. You dug your fingers into his arm, hitting at him with your free hand, but he acted as if you weren’t even fighting back.

“Those nice earrings you’re wearing says you’re my girl…”

Your stomach churned as you began to realize the serious meaning behind his gifts.

“…that pretty little bracelet on your arm says you’re my girl…”

You looked around in fear, realizing that the club was completely empty save for you, the Joker, and his thugs. You kicked at him as he forced your back onto the stage, his firm body pressing down on yours. His hold was still tight, and you felt tears spring forth as you fought to breathe.

“…and I say you’re my girl. Understand?”

You gave a shaky nod, but it wasn’t enough for him. He lifted you by the neck before slamming you back down, making you wince, and a slow grin spread along his face, revealing his shiny teeth.

“I’ve got a whole lotta toys, sweetheart. I earned those toys. I took those toys. Those toys are mine…”

You watched as he pointed his gun at the dead man still slumped in the chair.

“…and I don’t like people touching my toys.”

You didn’t get a chance to ponder on this turn of events before his lips were harshly pressing against yours. He slammed the gun down next to your head, hands pulling at your attire, and the tears finally spilled over as you fought against him. You weren’t alone, and this was a new level of humiliation that you weren’t okay with.

A man was dead. In fact, you were still covered in his blood, and the Joker’s men were just behind him, intently listening to everything, no doubt. His grip was harsh as he took hold of your wrists, slamming them down beside you. He let one go to grab his gun, pressing it into your lips as you shook.

“You gonna be a good girl? Or do I have to use this again?”

His voice was calm despite the violent implications behind his words, and you shakily shook your head.

He was rougher with you than he had ever been before. Biting you, choking you, and holding you far too tight. Part of you felt like it was done on purpose, not only so you’d get the idea, but so that the rest of his crew would get that you were his too. You cried as he pressed your cheek down onto the stage floor, hips snapping against your backside while harsh grunts left his lips.

You couldn’t handle staring at the Joker’s latest victim while he forced himself into you, so you squeezed your eyes shut. His other hand dug into your hip so harshly, you knew it was going to leave a bruise. As the minutes drew on, it seemed like his ministrations were becoming rougher, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say the sound of your sobs were egging him on.

His grip on your hair when he came had more tears springing to your eyes, and you flinched when his lips brushed your ear.

“Clean yourself up…”

Having only been half on the stage, you collapsed to the floor when he let you go. Your hair and makeup were a mess, and you miserably stared up at him through tear-filled eyes as he tucked his shirt back into his pants, swiftly pulling on his white suit jacket.

“…the cops will be here soon, and you gotta pull yourself together. Huh, doll face?”

He forced your head back as he gripped your chin, and you reluctantly nodded. He roughly dragged his thumb over your lips, smearing what was left of your lipstick before taking his leave, leaving you alone with one dead body, and one bruised one.

You shuffled upstairs, arms aching and eyes tight as you made your way to your apartment. It had been weeks since you’d been back to the club. Your boss, someone you were ever grateful for, told you to come back when you were ready. After all, you’d had someone’s brains blown out right in front of you…on you.

You were fortunate that no one stuck around to see J’s possessive display of ownership, so no one knew what his impromptu murder was really about. Everyone speculated that the customer had crossed the Joker in some way, a business deal gone wrong, but only you knew the truth. Only you knew that the man’s only crime had been paying for your time.

You took a break from stealing from the wealthy too. Not only did you lack the energy, but you couldn’t chance running into the Joker. Had you known what all of those gifts had meant, you never would have accepted them. You didn’t want to be the Joker’s. The last girl who got seriously tangled up with him had ended up almost crazier than he was.

Granted, you heard Harley Quinn was doing better these days, but God. Look how long it took her to get there? The thought of telling him to his face that it was over was a scary one, so you settled for just hiding away in your apartment. He was the Joker, a man who had a lot on his plate, and like he’d said, you were a toy to him. There were plenty of toys out there, and he could easily find another.

You dropped the groceries to the floor as soon as you made it inside, and you groaned as you straightened. Your shoes clicked along the floor as you made your way through your dark apartment. You turned on the kitchen light so that it would be on when you returned, and you made your way through your living room, looking forward to getting out of these clothes.

However, when you turned on the light in the living room, you were startled by the sight of a familiar green-haired villain standing in the corner like some statue. You barely swallowed down the scream that bubbled in your throat, and your eyes were wide as you took him in.

He was wearing a tux, a nice one with a white bowtie and a matching boutonniere. His hair was slicked back, and you weren’t sure where he came from, but you wanted him to go right back.

“I was enjoying a night out on the town…taunting Batsy as I like to do…”

He walked away from the wall as he slowly begun, cold eyes roaming over your apartment.

“…when I realized that I hadn’t seen my little thief for days. Weeks even.”

“What are you doing here?”

He didn’t respond, instead opting to make his way around the living room, running his gloved hands over your furniture. You didn’t realize that he was gradually closing the circle, nearing you.

“You haven’t been at work. You haven’t been in my face while you ruin my plans. You’re not hiding from me…are ya, doll face?”

You clenched your jaw, swallowing down your fear as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“I’m not hiding from you. We’re just through,” you told him.

He froze, glancing over his shoulder at you before continuing to look around.

“Did you hear me? You and I are done. Take your jewelry back, take everything you gave me and leave,” you continued.

He continued on as if he hadn’t heard you, and you stomped towards him.

“I’m serious, J! Do I need to call the police?”

That made him turn, and he wagged his finger at you like you were a misbehaving child.

“Careful,” he purred. “…because I personally know a certain thief they’d love to be informed about.”

You frowned, swallowing before pushing past him.

“I don’t care. At least in jail, I’ll be away from you-.”

You were cut off by your own scream, reaching for his hand as he pulled on your hair, forcing you away from the phone. He pulled you against him, and your eyes widened when he pressed a knife against your cheek, a hair’s width away from your lips.

“You have no agency in this arrangement.”

He threw you to the floor, and you scrambled away from him, nails scraping along the wood as he pulled you back. He cut your clothes away with ease, the torn shreds falling to the floor to leave you bear before him. The knife that grazed along your skin kept you from screaming as he undressed, but you did wince when he pressed it into your thigh, like a warning of what could come.

He took you behind the couch first, holding your thighs so tightly that the skin burned when he finally let go. Your table was next, but unfortunately, it didn’t withstand his rough treatment. The wall shook as he fucked you against it, every thrust rattling the pictures you had hung up to make this place a tad cozier.

Broken glass and broken pieces of wood littered the floor by the time he forced you into your bedroom. His knife remained in between his fingers the whole time he fucked you against your sheets. Your scalp burned from his harsh hold, and your throat hurt every time you swallowed, and you just knew that you’d wake up with finger shaped bruises in the morning. His deep voice was a constant in your ear, calling you ‘his little thief’, tsking at you like you were a confused child, telling you how much he was going to straighten you out.

When you clenched around him for a final time, your legs were thrown over his shoulder while your hands were pinned above your head by one of his. His free hand had fun cutting little nicks into your skin, greedily licking up the blood as tears continued to dampen your cheeks. He continued to push himself into you even after he came, and when he finally pulled out, your legs fell to the bed, chest heaving with shallow sobs.

“Now, wasn’t that a whole lotta fun?”

You glared at him as he sat up, a thin layer of sweat clinging to his fair skin, and your eyes traced the ink that decorated him. His green hair was in disarray, a smug grin on his lips as he pushed the strange colored locks away from his face. You could hardly even move, and you feared that attempting to would hurt worse.

You watched as he leaned over to his discarded pants, pulling out some sparkly piece of jewelry that you couldn’t care less about. You swallowed as he held it up, nearing you.

“…and here I was out shopping for something to compliment those new earrings, and you’re talking about leaving me. That’s a bit rude, but I’m willing to look past it.”

More tears spill over as he slides it around your neck, and it feels more like a noose than a necklace.

“You look like a work of art,” he says, lips brushing your cheek. “…all pretty and marked up by yours truly.”

His hair tickles your face, and he slowly leans away, dragging his fingers over your lips. You wince when he roughly grabs your jaw, pressing his fingers into a tender spot that you know is already forming a bruise.

“Now, I’ll be back in a couple of hours, so don’t do anything stupid.”

He tightened his grip at the end of his sentence, and you flinched. He grinned at you as he lightly patted his other hand against your cheek, grin widening when you recoiled.

“Let’s not do anything like that again, alright, sweetheart?” he purrs. “I’d hate to have to really hurt ya.”

tags: @harryspet @sherrybaby14 @darkficreposter @xoxabs88xox @opheliadawnwalker3 @honeychicanawrites @honeychicana @nickyl316h @captainchrisstan @sebabestianstan101 @readermia @villanellevi @lokislastlove @notyourtypicalrose @coconutqueen21 @hurricanerin @buckybarnesplumwhore @quaksonhehe @nerdygirl8203 @mandiiblanche @cocoamoonmalfoy

#joker x reader #dark fic #dc fanfic #dc #dark joker #dark!joker #suicide squad

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everythingharrypotterblog · 3 years

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charmed [5]: ‘cycle’ (remus lupin x reader)

SMUT. professor! remus x professor!y/n. can be read as a one-shot, or as part 5 of the charmed series :) pls go show part 4 some love, and the rest of the chapters if u liked this! <3

brief summary: full moon approaching= horny as fuck remus. he can’t keep his eyes/hands off y/n, and after a whole day of being needy between classes, they ... ;) dom!remus, oral fem!receiving, fingering, size kink, ye

nsfw gifs for inspo: x x

a/n: i got rejected from my top choice university program today so if im gonna be unhappy, might as well make u guys happy and release parts 5 and 7

series summary: set in the prisoner of azkaban, including its major plot points. remus and y/n get hired by dumbledore last minute to teach at hogwarts, defense against the dark arts and charms respectively. not wanting the students to know they are married, they navigate the challenging year through hidden glances, hand holds underneath the table and loving moments in their offices. even with all their efforts to conceal their relationship, their chemistry does not go unnoticed by the student population of hogwarts, who grow fond of the pair as they offer them some of the best classes they’ve had in a while. their relationship as newlyweds is strengthened as teaching the next generation of wizards unlocks a sea of memories of their love story. for the second time in his life, remus holds hogwarts responsible for some of his happiest memories. he’s given the chance to create them with the love of his life, y/n, who has taught and continues to teach him that every part of him is lovable, remaining forever under her charm.

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Remus’ life was lived in cycles, various phases of the moon commandeering partially how he felt.

His sex drive was always pretty high; how could he not feel desire- when he had Y/N around him in his life. They had a great sex life, and Remus was definitely one to get ‘love boners’, where he would see Y/N do something not remotely suggestive but would get the desire to fuck out of sheer adoration..

When the full moon came close, however… it was on a whole other level. His body carried tension and almost an incurable itch on the days preceding his transformation. His senses flared like a wolf’s, like hearing, touch and vision. It was his sense of smell, however, that enhanced the most. For about 2-5 days leading to the full moon, his smell became much sharper. If Y/N had recently showered, her fresh scent would overwhelm his nostrils, or if she got sweaty too. The second she got aroused, Remus would be able to pick it up, and the urge to bury his face in between her legs would wash over him.

So, he 300% got way hornier during this period of time. Paired up with his senses on overdrive, all he could think about during those few days was sex with Y/N, the tiniest things she did would get him instantly hard. He’d be turned on all the time.

As the month of September came to a close, both Y/N could definitely sense her husband’s even-higher-than-normal yearning. Remus’ persona in public never revealed how much of a beast he could be in the bedroom, always calm, respectful, prudent. He treated Y/N with the upmost care, and once they got to Hogwarts, with the upmost professionalism. That quickly faltered in the last couple of days.

The second students were out of her last class, he had her pushed up against the wall, the door of the classroom safely locked. Y/N even had to cancel one Charms practice session, because Remus wasn’t able to keep his hands off her: pulling her close to him and rubbing her back while he buried his nose in the perfume of her hair. When they graded or read together in the evenings, he would bend her over the desk, then take her again in the shower that night. Every morning, Y/N would wake up in the best way possible, feeling Remus’ tight hold behind her and his already hard cock rutting up against the flesh of her butt.

This morning, however, the couple wasn’t able to squeeze in a nice wake-up shag. They had overslept, and Y/N who started at 9am while Remus at 10, had to to get to class. She hurried off, getting dressed and down for a quick breakfast, leaving Remus waking up alone, humping the sheets slightly.

His frustrations lasted all day, and definitely were not aided when he saw that Y/N was wearing his favourite pair of pants of hers at lunchtime. While the way they looked at each other always somewhat hinted at their romance, Remus’ gaze was especially obvious, like he was mentally undressing her everywhere they went.

He was presently in between classes, sitting at a table in the staff room and trailing his wand over the lines of a student’s essay he was reading. He lifted his head when he heard the door creak open, and Y/N walked in happily, carrying a stack of papers in her hands. His thread was almost thrown back as he caught a whiff of her, just pure her, mixed with a hint of… arousal? She was wet, Remus thought lewdly.

Spotting Remus, Y/N gave him a big smile, then turned towards a little desk that had some of her stuff on it. Remus gave her a cheeky wink before his eyes followed her, unabashedly fixed on how those pants fit her so nicely. Y/N bent down to store the papers into her bag, and Remus quickly had to look away, forcing his gaze on the window before he would get hard.

“Hi, my love.” He smiled gently as she approached him, turning his chair and pulling her onto his lap.

“Rem!” Y/N whispered, jerking her head towards Professor Sprout.

She was the only other teacher there, but to Remus’ greatest delight, she seemed to have snoozed off in her armchair.

“She’s asleep.” Remus whispered back, hands running everywhere on Y/N’s body as she settled herself comfortably in his lap. “Besides, I missed you.”

“Aw, pumpkin-“ Y/N giggled, accepting Remus’ kiss as he pressed his lips on hers. “I, missed, you, too” She murmured in between kisses.

Remus’ hands were getting antsy, as one went to go squeeze Y/N’s breasts and the other caressed over her butt, smoothing over the thin fabric of her dress pants. The kiss deepened as they both began breathing heavier.

“Don’t,” Y/N breathed in, breaking apart from Remus’ soft face. “Don’t you have class in like-“ She glanced at the clock. “5 minutes?!”

Remus peered over her head and groaned, shaking his tousled head. “And you do too darling, right?”

“Yeah, it’s my last one of the day.” Y/N frowned.

Remus’ gaze softened, nuzzling Y/N’s nose with the tip of his own, in a cute little Eskimo kiss- type action.

“I really love these pants, you know, I’m wondering if you wore these on purpose” He grinned, the hand on her butt petting the material softly.

“Maybe, I did….” Y/N smiled back, their faces centimeters away from each other’s.

Remus, ears full of Y/N’s voice, nose full of Y/N’s natural homey scent, didn’t register the door opening again and they both turned with a jolt, when they heard Professor McGonagall clear her throat.

Y/N jumped out of Remus’ lap, Remus smoothing his hands that were all over her body, over his robes.

“Hi, Professor McGonagall- I was just- we were just getting ready for our next l-lesson.” Y/N stammered, face growing hot in embarrassment.

“Yes, class, here- I’ll walk you to your class, darling.” Remus said, bowing his head and following Y/N out of the staff room.

“Mhmm.” Professor McGonagall hummed, peering at the two through her thin rectangle glasses. She didn’t bother reminding them they could call her ‘Minerva’, but as they shuffled out the door, her thin lips curled up in amusement. “Oh, Pomona, I’m sure you are very lucky to be dead asleep right now.” She whispered, to the Herbology teacher whose eyes were sealed shut.

In the hallway, Y/N and Remus burst out laughing once they got a safe distance away.

“I am never going to emotionally recover from that.” Remus choked in between gasps for breath.

“Please, I’m never going to look her in the eye ever again.” Y/N howled, wiping a tear with her wrist. “I mean, at least we were just sitting… and not actually doing.. anything.”

They walked along a couple stairways, their body language having adjusted to the busy Castle.

“Thanks for walking me, you didn’t have to.” Y/N said, once they reached the Charms classroom. She stood back to the door, hands behind her on the doorknob.

Remus simply smiled courteously, eyes drifting down her. Then, quickly, he peered around them and into the classroom. Seeing it was empty, he reached behind Y/N, turned the doorknob and swirled her inside, pressing her up against the door.

“Oh, Rem-“ Y/N squeaked in surprise, but her voice faded into a soft moan as Remus kissed her, her arms going up to wrap around his neck.

“Sorry, my love, I just can’t get enough of you.” Remus chuckled when they finally pulled apart.

“Hmm.” Y/N licked her lips. Feeling Remus casing her in against the door like this, his big build towering over her, made her knees all weak. “Okay, you know the best part about these pants?” She inquired.

“Hmm? Tell me, sweetheart.” Remus mused, eyelids growing heavy as he stared into her face.

She rose on her tippy toes to meet the height of Remus’ ears, “The material is so thin-”

She spun around, facing the door and pressed her backside against Remus’ front, feeling him through his trousers.

Gasping as Remus’ large hands went up to squeeze both her breasts, further pushing her against the door as he pressed himself against her smaller body, she said, “-I have to wear a thong.”

Remus’ hands on her froze, his eyes growing dark. A low growl was ebbing up his throat but before he could respond, Y/N snaked out of his hold.

“Okay, bye honey- have a good class!” Y/N chirped, grinning widely as she opened the door to let a group of students in.

Remus composed himself in a fraction of a second, a hand raking through his hazel locks in attempt to comb them over.

“Hi, Professor Lupin!” Some students said, happy to see him, to which he answered with a polite and kind “Hello, hello!”, and “Hello, Dean!”.

Once Y/N’s class was over, she hurried up to her living quarters. After taking a hot shower, she climbed onto the bed, in nothing but a thong and one of Remus’ big sleeping shirts. She lied down comfortably, fingers toying with the collar as she waited for her husband. He had one other class after hers and should be finished soon.

Accurately enough, Remus’ figure appeared in the fireplace a few minutes later. His footsteps approached the bedroom and as he entered, his belt was already clinking as he was unfastening it with one hand.

“Oh, baby.” He hummed appreciatively as he took in the sight of Y/N, splayed across their bed, thighs balmy and exposed. “Is that my shirt?”

Y/N nodded, appreciating how Remus’ locks of hair had fallen on his forehead, as if he was constantly running his fingers through them- which he did, in attempt to concentrate when he was giving his last lessons of the day.

Gripping the hem, Y/N lifted the shirt off, exposing her naked chest. Remus made a guttural sound as he lunged forward, going to squeeze, lick and suck over her breasts. His hands wandered south, grazing the wet spot on the cotton stripe that covered Y/N’s mound.

“And whose pussy is this, hmm?” Remus snarled slightly, canines shining as his lips curled into an eager smirk.

Y/N licked her lips as she decided not to answer, her eyes had a glint to them when she stared back challengingly at her husband.

Remus raised an eyebrow, but kept an unfazed demeanour. He stepped back from the bed, taking a stand at the edge of it.

“Okay, baby girl, I see how you’re being. Turn around for me.”

Y/N looked up at him excitedly before slowly turning on the bed, onto her stomach.

Remus let out a small appreciative growl at the sight of Y/N’s ass covered only by a thin thong, right in front of him ready for him to ravage.

“Should’ve started with an easier question, kitten- who does this ass belong to?” Remus simpered.

He bent forward to squeeze both cheeks in his large hands, then went on to graze his teeth softly against the flesh of her ass. He could smell her arousal fully now, the scent of her wetness entering his nostrils and clouding his vision.

When Y/N merely arched her lower back to stick our her bum more prominently, wiggling it, Remus cursed. He roughly palmed the flesh before he lifted his hand and delivered a loud swat to it.

Y/N gripped the sheets in her hands as she yelped out of pleasure.

“You like that, don’t you, you wanted a good spanking from daddy, huh?” Remus hummed, rubbing over the spot soothingly.

“Yes.” Y/N breathed out shakily. “Please.”

Remus kneaded the flesh in his hands and reveled in the way it would bounce after he spanked it a few more times.

“Oh darling,” he cooed, bending down to leave a slow trail of kisses up Y/N’s back. “Your little bum looks so cute marked up in pink by my hands.”

The skin had pinked, and a considerable area too, considering how large Remus’ hands were.

“Remus, I’m- I’m so wet for you.” Y/N cried, lifting her lower body weight onto her knees so Remus could see her pussy in the air. Glistening and dripping in arousal.

The sight sent adrenaline down Remus’ groin, his cock now painfully hard and straining against his trousers. He could in a flash, shed his lower layers and pound into Y/N’s cunt as his urges wished him to, but he had to get a taste first.

“Really?” He said as he kneeled down on the side of the bed, now eye-level with Y/N’s core. He peeled back her thong, throwing it further on the bed.

“Yes, oh God, please.”

Remus peered over Y/N’s legs to see her face, scrunched up in anticipation. His hands trailed over the side of her thighs, sending visible shivers down her spine.

“Now, will you be a good girl and tell me… who this pretty ass and pussy belong to?” He said in a low purr, voice husky.

Y/N’s pussy clenched as she felt his face so close to where she needed him to be, his hands cementing themselves around her legs.

“Yours, Remmy, I’m all yours, now please-“ she begged, tears prickling at her eyes because of how much she ached for his touch.

Remus’ hands softly grazed down her back and pressed harshly once they got to the lower part where the curve of her ass began, and pulled her cunt straight into his face.

“Merlin, you smell so fucking sweet.” He swooned, inhaling deeply before quite literally diving into her cunt, his warm tongue stretching to lick against her clit.

Y/N’s eyes rolled back, her head pressing harder into the pillow. “Fuck…” She choked out. Her hips gyrated against Remus’ face, but his firm hold locked her in place as he devoured her.

They both moaned, Remus’ tongue running up her slit a couple times to lap up all the slickness and fully taste it. He gave her clit a quick kiss before sucking on it, taking it in between his lips.

“Fuck, r-right there.” Y/N breathed out, finally feeling an ounce of her desire fulfilled.

Remus licked sloppily at her clit, drawing wet circles with his tongue as his entire face was engulfed in her, her wetness dripping and coating his chin and nose. He sighed contently, closing his eyes as he ate her out, his own cock plumping at the feeling of her hips and legs trembling.

It was like meditation, the wolf inside him finally somewhat being appeased. He lapped at her cunt like it was the last thing he’d ever do, tongue running through the soft folds that were sopping and slick from the mix of her arousal and his spit.

“Oh, Rem, oh-“ Y/N moaned, face scrunched in pleasure. The coil in her abdomen wound tighter, she was getting closer and she pushed her hips back against Remus’ mouth. He groaned into her cunt, his hands squeezing her fleshy hips harder, desperately stuffing his face into her. He loved it.

He maintained his rhythm, focusing on suckling and flicking his tongue on her clit until she came with a cry, hips shaking out of his hold. He flattened his tongue to run it up her labia, and ended by planting a tender kiss on her sensitive clit before pulling away, slightly more sated than before.

“Delicious.” Remus panted, standing up and watching Y/N languidly turn over onto her back once again. He wiped his mouth and the tip of his nose clean with the back of his hand, Y/N watching with her face hot.

Y/N scooted to sit at the edge of the bed, ogling him. He towered over her as he stayed standing, looking down at her through heavy hungry eyelids, covered by his brown hair that was getting slightly messier.

“Wanna taste you.” Y/N smiled, reaching behind Remus’ kneecaps to bring him closer.

Remus chuckled darkly, his long arm needing to barely reach to stroke Y/N’s jaw.

“You look so cute from up here, dove, makes me want to play with you and see you cum, all over again.” He said, voice low.

Y/N bit her lip, not breaking eye contact with her husband.

“So gorgeous.” He groaned as Y/N took his thumb between her lips, suckling the pad of the finger. “You have no idea how much I’ve been thinking.. of what I want to do to you, how much I want to take that body of yours.”

“Then take me.” Y/N exhaled, mouth letting go of his thumb and smiling devilishly.

Remus’ eyes, if possible, turned darker in desire and he bent down, kissing Y/N passionately on the lips as his hands travelled down her naked torso.

“Hmm, you’re so small, kitten,” Remus hummed, eyes following his hand that went to cup in between her legs. “Look how small your little pussy is in my hand.”

His fingers curled to feel how wet it was, Y/N spreading her thighs apart for him to access easier. He used his middle and ring finger to lather up some of her slickness, then dragged them up to her clit and started soft circles on it. Y/N whimpered, legs closing from how sensitive her bud was from her previous orgasm.

“Now, now pet.” Remus tutted, pulling away.

He licked the tips of his fingers clean, then shrugged off his woolly cardigan, hanging it on the back of a nearby chair. The full moon approaching always got his body temperature hotter than usual, so he skipped wearing a cloak today, and was left in his white dress shirt and tie. He slowly rolled up his sleeves, exposing his forearms. Y/N couldn’t keep her eyes off his hands as he did so. Long, mature fingers with metal rings adorning the base of each.

“Keep your legs nice and spread f’me, alright, as I stuff you with my fingers.”

Bending forward again, he leaned one arm on the bed beside Y/N as his other hand found her clit again. The thick pads of his fingers played with her clit, rubbing the spot as Y/N bit her lip, body firing up for another orgasm.

“So cute, button.” He mused, nuzzling the top of Y/N’s head. “Look at that, your clit feels so little under my fingers, don’t you think? And your cunt, ah-“

He dipped a finger inside her, sliding right in and quickly added another one. Slowly petting the soft spongy walls of Y/N’s pussy, Y/N mewled, rutting her hips for more.

“So tight, so full just of my fingers. Tell me darling, do you like my fingers?”

“Mhhm.” Y/N nodded as Remus sped up. “Love your fingers, your hands, they’re so b-big.” She choked out, head hanging back as he fingered her.

“You like that? You fucking love how I can get you off with just m’fingers, yeah? Lord, this pussy’s so tight how will my cock even fit hmm?” Remus crooned, watching Y/N adoringly as he was knuckles deep inside her, his rings feeling cold upon her entrance.

Y/N opened her eyes, meeting Remus’ soft, scar-decorated face and turned her head to kiss him. Remus suckled on her spit-slicked lips, maintaining his fingers and bent his hand for the bone of his palm to press against her clit. Y/N gasped into the kiss, lips gaped apart as she whimpered into Remus’ mouth. Remus smiled, loving how flustered she was as she struggled to kiss him back, soaking in all her little cries and noises she made.

His fingers inside her were going so fast, relentlessly hitting her g-spot over and over that his hard palm was grinding against her clit incessantly. Faster than the first time, she came, squeezing onto his forearm.

Fingers riding out her high, they slowed and pulled out, drenched in her wetness. Y/N collapsed onto her back, chest heaving.

“Oh, baby you are so beautiful.” Remus simpered, climbing on the bed and leaning over her to kiss her everywhere; her shoulders, neck, cheeks. “You think you got another one in you, bunny? Think you can let Moony bury his cock inside you?”

“Yes, give it to me please.” Y/N grinned widely, licking her lips and pulled Remus down by his tie, locking lips with him once more. “Need you inside me.”

“Oh, puppy. I am going to ruin you.” Remus said, this time in such a low murmur that had he not been an inch close to Y/N’s face, her ears wouldn’t have registered the tone.

Y/N sat up, helping her husband rid himself of his clothes. His bare chest exposed a few thin scars, which Y/N quickly smoothed her hands and lips over, routinely giving love to them, as she knew it was the part Remus couldn’t stand of his body.

Remus freed his hard-on, which was blushed an angry shade of dark pink. The bulbous head had been leaking of precum for a while now, and he exhaled a couple ragged breaths when he stroked himself, hand twisting around his tip. Y/N had leaned over to their bedside table to open a condom, and she replaced his hand with hers, pumping his long member before sliding it on. Remus already felt himself throb, and he knew that soon he’d be even more as Y/N’s pussy felt 100 times better than her hand.

“How do you want me?” Y/N breathed, backing up to the head of the bed as Remus went on his knees.

This was more of a rhetorical question, really, as it has been like this for years, that at every moon cycle end, their favourite was for Remus to take Y/N from behind. Y/N turned onto her elbows and knees, bending forward to prop her ass up.

“That’s it, good girl.” Remus licked his lips, lining himself up and pushed his cock slowly into Y/N’s warmth.

He let out a loud hiss, face contorted in pleasure as he sank fully into her, his long, hard member stretching Y/N out to the fullest, filling her to the brim. “Merlin.” He said through gritted teeth, eyes dropping to where he disappeared into Y/N’s behind. “You always manage to stay so tight for me, darling- fuck, your pussy’s just squeezing m’cock so right, isn’t it?”

Y/N merely moaned, head dropping forward as she balanced her upper weight on her elbows, overwhelmed by feeling every single vein of Remus’ cock sliding in and out of her slowly. She clenched hard around him, causing his hips to tremor as Remus’ senses, including touch, were amplified tenfold.

He ceased momentarily, his cock just resting heavy inside Y/N’s cunt, his head deep at her g-spot. Y/N mewled, arching her back and twerked her hips, fucking herself back onto his cock. Remus growled at the sight, spanked her once, then his hands dived to grab the curve of her waist as he snapped, hips pounding into her now mercilessly.

“Oh God, fuck!” Y/N cried out with her head thrown back, as her elbows gave out from underneath her and her face sank forward into a heap of pillows. Her ass still up in the air, flesh slightly pink from Remus’ spanks delivered to it- it was a wonder how he didn’t cum from the sight of that alone as he fucked her from behind.

Remus kept up his quick rhythm, hips thrusting into her ruthlessly. They were both close, and Remus fucked into Y/N without an ounce or self-restraint left. He grunted loudly as she fell forward and her inner walls clenching down onto his member. His cock slipped in and out of her deliciously, as she had gotten so wet for him, sinful sounds echoing the room.

He bent forward, chest pressing against her back, their skin sweaty.

“‘S that feel good, darling?” Remus said, lips ghosting over Y/N’s ear. She shuddered, his breath sending shivers up her neck as she felt him so close. His voice wasn’t his usual chesty, tenor honey-like. His words were uttered in a guttural one, his voice deeper, lower, sounding from the back of his throat. “You’re taking me so well- your pussy feels like heaven, sweetheart.”

Y/N’s ears registered the praise as music, living for it. He adjusted his hips slightly to accommodate the new angle, thrusting to make sure he was hitting all the spots in Y/N he knew she liked.

“Mphhhm, please baby,” Y/N moaned, voice slightly muffled into the pillow. She turned her head to the side to rest her cheek on it instead. “Please Remus, oh-“ her voice whimpered, a little more clearly now.

Remus’ large hands had been gripping onto the flesh of Y/N’s hips roughly, tightly. He moved one up to her breasts, grabbing it and massaging it. His breath was hot on her back. He was nearing his orgasm too, his breathing loud and shaggy. Heaving grunts echoed off the walls of the rooms, and Y/N arched her back to feel his chest rise up and down against it.

“Good girl, good fucking girl- taking my cock so well. Shit.”

Remus let out a growl as he felt his cock be swallowed up in her cunt, her ribbed walls enveloping it so nicely as he ploughed into her.

“You’re close aren’t you, dove?” He murmured into her neck with the same low voice, placing wet kisses onto it. Her hair was out of the way onto the other side, and he tasted the slight stickiness of how sweaty their night’s activities had gotten her.

“Yes, yes, ye-es” Y/N chanted in a strangled voice, her words getting split at her throat from Remus’ vigorous pounding.

“Can tell from how tightly you’re squeezing me- shit, not going to last long either inside you like this. C’mon baby, c’mon. Cum for me.”

It was all too much. Y/N shaked as she felt Remus pump into her a few more crucial times. He felt so thick in her walls, his girth filling her up like no other. Moaning, her hips grinded back into Remus as she started to cum. She felt his warm hand reach down her belly and down to between her thighs and with the added pressure from the circles he rubbed on her clit, she came with a shudder. Her body shook as her breath caught in her throat, a string of profanities leaving her lips. Y/N’s sounds of pleasure filled Remus’ ears, driving him further into ecstasy.

“Good girl.” Remus purred, hips jerking forward frantically.

“Remus, fill me up-“ Y/N moaned, knowing Remus loved hearing his name fall off her tongue like that. She propped herself back onto her elbow, reaching one hand behind her to hold the back of Remus’ neck.

Remus pressed the side of his face into Y/N’s neck, her hand keeping him close to her. He growled into her ear, the low sound vibrating from his throat enough to make Y/N’s eyes roll back. Driving his cock into her, desperately chasing his high, he rutted his cock into her walls. His entire body strained as all his muscles worked to relieve himself, needily fucking out his animalistic urges. He came with a gasp, his hips jerked harshly as he shot ropes and ropes of cum into the condom.

Panting, he hunched forward as his cock kept twitching.

His whole muscular body trembled as he squeezed his eyes shut in the pleasure of his long-needed release. His hand was grasped onto Y/N’s chest and she loved the feeling, tilting her hips forward to match the movements of Remus’ orgasm.

Wheezing slightly, Remus finally pulled out of her slowly, Y/N whimpering slightly as her pussy clenched around nothing. He threw the used condom and collapsed onto his back, chest still heaving. Y/N followed suit beside him, onto her stomach, body limp. The afterwaves of her orgasm still sent pleasure through her body and she knew she’d feel too sore to even straighten her legs.

“My love.” Remus turned on his side.

“I can’t fucking move.” Y/N chuckled, voice muffled by the pillow.

Remus hummed, eyes raking over her used body and sat up, massaging over her shoulders then down her back. His hands reached her hips, where he caressed extra soothingly and slowly closed them together. He bent forward, planting a kiss on Y/N’s cheek. She giggled as his locks of hair tickled her eyelid.

Languidly turning over, Y/N sighed in content.

Remus reached his hand, and pulled a strand of her hair out of her face, tucking it behind his ear. He felt warmth lower, as his body began to awaken for another round.

“We’re not getting much sleep tonight, huh?” Y/N giggled peering down at her husband.

It was a blessing that the Castle automatically out a Silencing charm on teachers’ living quarters, because anyone neighbouring them would have stayed up, hearing sinful, wet slapping sounds of skin all night.

part 6 and part 7 OUT NOW!!

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