#professor!jim x reader

[darthannie]

thesis statement

Pairing: professor!Jim x f!reader Summary: You accidentally bump into your Professor, Jim, at a sex shop. Word count: 3.3k Warnings: 18+ please for the love of god, age gap (reader is ~25, Jim is ~45), alcohol consumption (a few sips of wine), kissing, praise, soft dom! Jim kinda, fingering, p in v, Jim takes his time, a smidge of cockwarming, idk what else to put here! a/n: There will probably be a part two where they explore their little arrangement a bit more. Maybe it'll turn into something longer. I love Jim sm. I also want him to FUCK you know. We’ll get there, but I was feeling a lil soft. Also hmmm i wonder why Jim was at the sex shop in the first place.

It was around 5 pm on a Sunday and you were really in need of something new. Very in need. Your old toy just wasn’t cutting it anymore. To remedy this it was time for a trip to Deluxxx, your neighborhood sex shop. Your friend, Nadia, knew someone who worked there and you’d go there for all your wants and needs. You strolled in and gave a wave to the person behind the counter. 

“Hey, David! How’s the shop been treating ya?”

They looked around at the empty shop, “Hey! It’s slow but I can’t complain. What are you in for?” 

You sighed, “You remember that last toy I bought?“ 

”No way, does it suck?! It was so expensive.” 

“No, no it’s great! Gets the job done, waterproof, 10 settings-“ 

“So what’s the problem”, they asked.

You gestured in front of yourself with both hands, “It’s just… a little too small?"

They laughed and threw their head back. “Of course. Well lucky for you we got something new in recently that you might like. It’s in the back aisle, bottom shelf.” 

You thanked them and made your way to the back. You crouched down to find the one David was telling you about. It was definitely bigger than the one you had. And thicker. It didn’t have any extra frills but that wasn’t what you were looking for. You snapped a picture and sent it to Nadia with “new bf” as the caption. You let out a little laugh that was more like an exhale as you got up. Nadia has been nagging you about needing a boyfriend and you said you were just going to buy a new one. You were still looking at your phone as you turned to exit the aisle and bumped into someone. The apology on your lips died as you recognized the person in front of you as Jim, your professor and thesis advisor. 

His jaw went slack for a moment and his eyes widened as he recognized you. You were the last person he’d expect to see there but it wasn’t an unwelcome sight. He enjoyed teaching you, not knowing whether it was your interest in the subject or the fact he thought you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. He broke eye contact for a moment, scanned your body, took note of the item in your hand, and then met your eyes again. You were suddenly very aware of your surroundings and before anyone could say anything he cleared his throat, said “Excuse me” and walked past you.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive and it was becoming clear why you did not have a boyfriend. You wanted him. This wasn’t a new revelation by any means. Nadia was in the same class as you, and she bugged you about it almost daily. You hadn’t expected him to find you in such a vulnerable position. You collected yourself and walked swiftly to the counter and paid. Jim was long gone. You said your goodbyes to David and you texted Nadia to let her know what happened.

She called you almost immediately and opened by saying, “So you know you gotta fuck him now. Like you have to. You don’t have an option. You MUST”. You laughed. There was absolutely no way Jim wanted you. You let her know as much and she disagreed. 

“There’s no way he doesn’t want you. Come on. All the silent stares in class. Asking you to stay after. Constant emailing about things that have nothing to do with class. I mean who just emails their student a TED talk because they thought of them? All signs point to him wanting you. AND what about that one day where you teased him about not having a ring on his finger, and he just said I’m working on it? You know there was this smile he gave you afterward that I don’t think you caught. You were too busy hiding the blush on your face”

“I know I know.” You relented, “I don’t know, it just seems so far-fetched!” 

You knew that was the logical response but something was telling you Nadia was right. He had to have known that his voice sent a shiver down your spine. That you wanted him to take you right there on the table after class. You had caught him staring during class. Maybe she had a point. You couldn’t help but wonder if he really did want you too. 

Later on in the day, you got into the shower. Scalding hot water hit your back. You couldn’t help but recount the events from earlier. He had lingered, looked at the item in your hand, and raised an eyebrow. You would’ve been embarrassed if he didn’t already feel so familiar. 

Soft music played as you lathered a silky body wash along your body. Your mind started to wander, thinking about what it would be like if it were his hands instead of yours. You rinsed off the soap, running your hands over your arms and breasts all while imagining they were his. You turned off the water, dried off, and headed towards the bag you placed on your small table.

You unpackaged your new toy and went back to the bathroom to clean it. Getting back to bed, you lied down and opened up an incognito tab on your phone. You looked for some porn to watch. Once you found an adequate video, you relaxed and continued to watch. The man in the video touched the woman’s body in all the right places. He laid her down and kissed up her thighs before starting to eat her out. This was enough for you to start teasing yourself with the toy, feeling the weight of it on your clit. Suddenly the video was unnecessary. All you could think about was Jim.

You positioned it just right and started to insert it. You gasped as you felt how it stretched you out. This was what you needed. You paused the video, throwing your phone on the side to focus on the task at hand. You put the rest of it inside you and let yourself adjust to the size. You began to move the toy as you thought of him. You wondered if he felt this good. He had to feel better than this. You got off that night thinking about him and only him. When you finally came down from your high you grabbed some water, cleaned your toy, and got straight to bed. 

You didn’t want what happened yesterday to impact your experience in class so you decided to just go on like nothing happened. 

You headed to the bathroom and began going through the movements of the morning. Before you knew it you were by the building where class was held. A bit further down the sidewalk was Jim walking from the opposite direction. The both of you got to the door at the same time. He didn’t say a thing. He just gave you a polite, awkward smile as he opened the door for you. You returned the smile and walked in. Side by side you walked to the classroom. This time you opened the door for him. You watched as he entered and mentally prepared yourself to take a class. It was just the two of you in the room. You sat at the round table with your laptop in front of you trying your best to seem busy.

He broke the silence, “Did you have a nice weekend?”

You summoned a response, “Yes, actually, I was able to spend some time with myself.”

He quipped back, “Oh, I’m sure you were.” 

Your eyes widened trying to process what he said. He let out a light chuckle as another student arrived. The class was full within the next five minutes. Nadia walked in and looked between you and him. She smirked at you. The air was buzzing for the next two hours. You could cut the tension between you two if you tried hard enough. You asked and answered questions like usual. Each time you spoke he paid extra attention to you. When class ended you began gathering your things slowly, hoping you were the last in the class. Nadia leaned over and whispered in your ear, “Just don’t do it by my seat.” You gave her a light slap on the arm and she laughed. Then, it was just you and him. He approached you and spoke softly. 

“Listen, I apologize if I overstepped a boundary with the joke I made earlier. I thought it would help ease the tension if, I don’t know-“ 

“It’s alright, Professor. We’re both mature adults who can bump into each other at a sex shop and move on with our lives.” You got up ready to leave but he spoke.

“Since when am I Professor?”, he asked. 

You looked at him confused. He clarified, “Since when do you call me Professor? You never call me Professor.”

You cleared your throat, “Well I just thought we should reestablish a professional boundary since the- you know. Keep the personal and the professional separate.”

He looked at you, pensive for a moment. He moved a bit closer to you. “Well, what if we don’t keep it separate?” 

Your eyes widened as you realized what was happening. “Are you serious?”

“Very.” He lowered his voice a bit and moved closer. He ran his hand down your arm.  His mouth was now near your ear. There was no chance someone else was going to hear him, but he whispered anyway. “I think you should come over tonight. If you want to.” 

“Yeah, I want to.” You mentally cursed yourself for caving in so quickly.  

“How’s seven?, he asked.

“Seven’s good.” Your head was spinning. This was happening.

“I’ll also need your number so I can send you the address.” He handed you his phone with a new contact page open. You entered it in, gave him a shy smile, and turned to leave.

He grabbed your wrist before you were able to move away from him. “By the way, leave your new purchase at home. You’re not going to need it.” 

Summoning some courage, you leaned in to kiss him. He didn’t close the gap all the way. “Let’s save it for tonight.”, he said as he pulled away. He gathered his things without looking at you and left. 

When you returned home you threw your stuff down and immediately called Nadia. “I KNEW IT!" she yelled. “I KNEW that’s why you hung back. God, it was so tense between you two.”

“You could tell?” You didn’t think it was that obvious until she chuckled and said that everyone could tell. The rest of the conversation consisted of Nadia giving you a pep talk and making her promise you’d tell her everything.  

As time passed you got more nervous. Around six you received a text from him telling you to wear something comfortable, along with his address. You sent a very quick response and, per his request, put on something comfortable. It would end up on the floor anyway. He didn’t live very far from you, which was lucky. You wondered if this would be a one-time thing. What would class be like now? I graduate soon anyway, you thought. If this all went south you could just forget it happened. You got to his apartment a couple of minutes before 7 and he let you up. When you got to the door you knocked twice and waited.

You’d never seen him so casual and… nervous. “Please, come in! You can put your things wherever you’d like,” he said. 

You looked around at his apartment. You could tell a professor lived there. Bookshelves lined the walls. On the dining table, there was a bottle of wine with two glasses. You put down your bag near the door. You didn’t know what to do with your hands. He noticed your apprehension. 

“Do you like wine? I got a nice Malbec after class today. Thought we could crack open a bottle.” 

“Yes, I’d like that very much.”

“Nerves?”

“Yeah.”, you confirmed.

“Me too. But, uh, there’s nothing to be nervous about. It’s just me.”

He smiled and the tension in your body slipped away. It was replaced by a sense of calm. Jim was letting you into his home, and into his life. You sat down at the table and he removed the cord from the bottle. You watched his hands work, feeling eager to get them on you. But that had to wait, he was about to take his time. He poured you and himself a glass. You sat across from him and took a sip, hoping its effects would be immediate. 

“I’m glad you came. You know, I thought you’d think I was too old for you.” And he might’ve been. Twenty years was a healthy gap but it wasn’t anything you wouldn’t indulge in. Hell, if you could, you’d date him. 

“Not at all.” You replied. “I can’t lie, I’ve been thinking about it all year.”

“About what?”, he pushed.

“About… seeing you.”

“You can say it.” He noticed your blush. 

“I want to hear you say it.”, he egged you on.

You sighed, trying to muster up the words. “I’ve been thinking about… being with you all year.”

“And doing what?”, he took another sip of his wine and raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to say it?”

“Yes.”, There was no way you would be able to admit it to him fully.

“You want your professor to fuck you. You want me to take you to my room, undress you, and take care of you better than anyone ever has.”

Your face was red. “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.” You drank from your glass. 

“Come here.”, he spoke softly and you got up. “Straddle me, love.” 

You sat on his lap and he looked up at you, grinning ear to ear. He brought his hand up to your neck and pulled you down to kiss him. It was brief. He pulled away and looked into your eyes. Then he kissed you again. And, again. Then, he started kissing your neck. You couldn’t help but let out a small moan as you felt him getting hard underneath you. He kissed and nipped at your skin. His hands reached the hem of your shirt and he pulled it off before you could register it happening. Once it did, you helped him out of his. 

He tapped your ass a couple times, silently saying get up. He walked you backward and pushed you up against a nearby wall. He started removing a bra strap, but you stopped him.

“Well don’t get shy on me now.”, he chuckled. “Come.” He reached out his hand and you grabbed it. He led you down the hall to his bedroom and you sat down on the bed. You took your cues from him. As he started to lean over, you began to lay down. His hand was unhooking your bra with one hand. He was finicking with it and after a few moments, it was off. The cool air hitting your nipples caused them to rise. Jim kissed you again, then kissed down your neck, and finally put his hands on you. He licked, sucked, and grabbed your breasts. 

“You’re so beautiful. Even more gorgeous than I could have imagined. Baby, I need to taste you.” 

You wanted to protest but your pants were already coming off. Your panties followed. He groaned, “Fuck, baby, all this for me?

Before you could respond he kissed the inside of your thigh, then down, down, down until he reached your pussy. You were so wet for him already. He used his fingers first, wanting to feel you first. 

“You always get this wet for your Professor?”

“Yes.”, you responded breathlessly. His fingers were moving in and out of you. Slowly at first and then faster. He hit that perfect spot each time. Then he added his mouth. This time he didn’t go slow. He was licking and sucking on your clit. You moaned out his name and he smiled. He ate you out like his life depended on it. No one had ever done this to you. No one had ever paid this much attention to your body. You were a whimpering mess. His hand found its way back to your nipple, rolling it between his fingers. He then squeezed, hard, which made you load loudly. 

“Please Jim, I’m gonna cum.”, you plead. 

 He got you close to the edge and then pulled away. You whimpered at the loss of him. “Please, keep going.”

“No, if you’re gonna cum, I’m gonna be inside of you.” He took off the rest of his clothing. You moaned at the sight of him. He was right. You would never need the toy again. You couldn’t wait for him to be inside of you. He knew this and instead decided to tease you with his cock. He dragged it along you and tapped your clit the same way you did with your toy at home. Only this was a hundred times better.  

He nipped at your ear and whispered. “You really want it, huh?”

“Yes,” you begged “It’s all I want.” 

He grinned and entered you slowly and without warning. Your jaw dropped slightly. You couldn’t even make a sound, you were too busy with the feeling of him filling you up entirely. He let out a sigh and grabbed your chin.

“Look at me. Open your eyes. Look at me while I fuck you.” You did as he said. He started to pick up the pace. He was making this intimate. He caressed your face and made almost as much noise as you did. “Good girl. You’re such a good girl, following directions. Ready for another one?” You nodded. 

“Get on top. Sit down on my cock.” You started moving before he even finished his sentence. There was no room for shyness anymore. He sat up against the headboard as you sunk down on him; the new angle was doing wonders for the both of you. He thrusted up, wanting to feel more of you. He held you close to him as you began to ride him. 

“You sure know how to treat a girl, Professor.”, you said breathlessly.

He chuckled and kissed you. “You sure know how to treat your Professor. You’re being so good for me. Such a good girl.”

His hand found its way back to your clit, his thumb rubbing circles. He wanted to make sure you came first.

And you did.

It came in waves. You felt it build up and told him you were close. Then, you fell apart. You pulled him close and kissed him passionately. He wrapped his arms around you and whispered sweet nothings in your ear as you came. 

“That’s it, baby. So, so good for me. God, such a pretty little thing.“ He took control, holding you up and thrusting into you. The sensation was almost too much to bear. 

“Where do you want it.”, he asked.

“Inside. Please. I’m on the-“

“Are you sure, love?” You could tell he couldn’t wait any longer. 

You begged, “Yes. Yes, I am, just please cum inside me.”

And he did.

He filled you to the brim. You felt him twitch inside of you as his hips stuttered. He held onto you so tightly you were sure it would leave marks. You were both breathing hard. He stayed inside of you and held you against him. He put his forehead against yours as you regained your breath. 

He kissed you again, this time not wanting to pull away. But, you did. You pulled yourself off of him and laid down as the realization of what you did started sinking in. He lied down next to you and stared at the ceiling.

Silence. And after a few moments, you turned your head and spoke.

“So, is this it?” It came out more timid than you would have liked it to. 

He gave you a look you couldn’t quite place and after a moment he said, “Oh, love, you’re mine now.”

#jim the delinquent season x reader #jim delinquent season #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x fem!reader #jim delinquent season x reader #jim delinquent season x f!reader #professor!jim x reader #i proofread this but no one is perfect #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy #annie writes

[mysteriouslover1516]

Sherlock Holmes (Part 2)

The next day you wake up to gunshots, coming from the room next to you. “Gosh!” you shriek and quickly get dressed. “Please be okay, please be okay,” you keep whispering as you carefully open your door and creep out into the hallway.

Your mouth drops open as you see what was causing all the commotion. “What the heck are you doing?!”

Sherlock doesn’t bother looking at you, instead his focus remains on the shot-ridden wall in front of him. “Bored!” He says and then shoots the pistol some more. He quickly switches the gun to his left hand and then pulls the trigger continually.

You cover your ears and shout, “STOP IT!”

John rushes up the stairs and quickly opens the door to the flat, “Not again, Sherlock!” He grabs the pistol out of Sherlock’s hand and scowls at him. “What the heck are you thinking?!”

“Bored, bored, BORED!” Sherlocks lets himself slide off the couch.

“You mean this is a regular occurrence?!” You gape and look at the wall that was victim to Sherlock’s boredom.

John gives you a face that expresses, “Don’t even ask.”

“What is Mrs. Hudson going to do?!” You freak out.

“Something about, ‘oh Sherlock, you’re going to pay for that. Oh Sherlock, why can't you control yourself.’ Something stupid like that.” Sherlock offers.

“Sherlock, I can’t believe you! I left my sister here thinking she’d be fine, and instead you wake her up to gunshots!”

Sherlock shows no emotion whatsoever and pushes past John to the kitchen. He opens the fridge and then slams the door shut. “There’s no milk, Silena. Go to the store on the corner and get some.” He then returns to his chair and closes his eyes.

“My name is Syrena,” you say, annoyed.

“And while you’re at it, some crumpets would suit me well. Thank you.” Sherlock replies, shortly, paying no attention to what you just said.

You cross your arms in annoyance and frown.

John shares a look with you and both of you head out of the apartment and into the breezy, London air, after you get some shoes and your jacket on of course.

“He’s impossible!” You screech. “How on earth do you deal with him for so long?!”

John sighs, “I ask myself that very same question regularly on a daily occurrence. I really don’t know.”

“I thought he had a good side, but for only my two days of knowing him, he’s insufferable!” You kick the sidewalk irritably.

John smiles out of amusement, you were usually quite calm-headed, meaning Sherlock must have made a big impact on you.

“It’s not funny, John.” You grimace at him.

John laughs, "It kinda is if you think about it."

"Well let's not think about it, then." You shake your head, smiling.

"Well, we better get the milk and Sherlock's precious crumpets, or else he'll freak out." John sighs.

"I thought shooting the wall was him freaking out," you giggle.

"No, that is him being bored. You do not want to see him when he freaks out, trust me."

"What does he do?" You ask curiously.

John says in a serious voice, "You'll see at some point."

You cringe, "It sounds bad."

"It is," John says, making you feel hopeless.

You two walk to the store and purchase the milk and crumpets, and you also stop at the coffee shop on the way home.

When John finally opens the door to the flat you had been gone for over an hour.

John sets the bags on the counter and Sherlock is in the living room staring intently at a newspaper in his hands.

“I asked for a pen,” Sherlock says coolly.

“When?” John crosses his arms. “Did you not realize we were gone?” Sherlock gives him no response, his eyes remain glued to the newspaper and his arm is outstretched as he waits for the writing instrument.

“There’s one on the table right in front of you,” John sighs.

Sherlock finally looks up expectantly and John rolls his eyes, walks over to him, picks up the pen, and places it in Sherlock’s hand.

“Thank you,” Sherlock says and then starts scribbling on the newspaper.

You walk over to the fridge to put the milk away, but as you open the door you shriek.

“What the heck is that?!” You scream.

Sherlock says nonchalantly, “It’s a human head.”

John races over and then covers his eyes frustratedly, “Sherlock!”

“It’s for my experiment.” Sherlock says calmly. “I hope she didn’t touch it.”

“Why would I touch it?!” You yell angrily. “What normal person has a human head in their fridge?!”

John gives you a look that says, Sherlock is clearly not a normal person.

Sherlock gets up and walks over casually while taking a sip of his tea, “Did you bring my crumpets?”

You pick up the bag you had got and rip it open, “You don’t mind if I have one, do you?” You say just to annoy him, then you quickly pop one into your mouth.

Sherlock gapes, “Now there are only nineteen to be precise in that bag! You messed it up! If you take one out, take two so you always leave an even number in the bag!”

You roll your eyes and pop another one in your mouth, but you make the mistake of looking back into the fridge where the decapitated head is. You gag and make a run to the toilet.

“Please don’t-” Sherlock is cut off at the wretched sound of heaving.

“She better have not stained my carpet,” he tells John and then puts a clothespin on his nose and walks off.

“Why are you so insensitive all the time?!” John demands and rushes to the bathroom where you are hanging over the edge of the toilet. “Oh, Syrena, I’m so, so sorry.”

You nod pathetically and slowly get up and wash your face, “Almost forgot how much it hurt to, well, you know what.”

John sighs, “I need to find my laptop.”

“For what?” You ask and dry your face off.

“To look for a new flat for us,” John decides, then walks out of the bathroom with you following. “Sherlock, where’s my laptop?”

“I sold it,” Sherlock says without any emotion at all.

John stops and opens and closes his mouth, multiple times, apparently at a loss for words. “You did what?” He finally choked out.

“Sold it, needed a few pounds to pay the rent.” Sherlock says.

John scowls and says in a surprisingly low voice, “Who exactly did you sell it to?”

“Some beggar guy off the street."

“Great!” John throws his hands in the air and sighs.

"A beggar paid you money for a laptop?" You ask.

"He was disguised as a beggar, he was actually a very rich man and just wanted some pounds for no effort or work costs." Sherlock states.

"So you sold him my laptop," John sighs.

Sherlock starts to violently play his violin and you cover your ears because it sounded awful, “I thought you said he was a good violinist!”

John yelled, “He is, he’s just trying to get us to leave him alone now.” You roll your eyes and head off to your room, John behind you.

John slams the bedroom door shut and you pull at your hair, “Why is he such a jerk?!”

“I’m sorry, Syrena. I’ll find us another place to live, just a little bit longer and then we’ll be on our own.” He says as he hugs you.

You sigh into his shoulder and can’t help but hope it’ll be soon.

“On the bright side,” John starts, “you get to go shopping with Molly.”

"Almost forgot about that," you say and drop onto your bed. "Can you hand me my ukulele?"

John grins and gives the instrument to you and you immediately start fingerpicking a tune.

"Since when did you start learning such melancholy songs?" John suddenly asks.

"I don't know," you sit up and shrug. "It's called Tourist. Sometimes I learn songs just for the tune, not the words exactly."

John sits down on the bed beside you, "So what's the song Tourist about?"

"A tourist," you smile then laugh as he rolls his eyes. "It's about this guy who's in Paris alone. He's singing a song about this girl back home, and basically it's just him saying they thought they were in love, but weren't really. He sings that tourists, or the people in Paris would think they were in love, but that their thoughts didn't matter because the couple would know the truth."

"Um, that's sad," John rubs his chin.

"What time is it?" You change the subject.

"One," John says as he glances at his wrist watch.

"And I'm supposed to meet Molly at two, right?" You ask.

"Yep," John nods and smirks. "Are you going to rush to do your hair and makeup now?"

"You must really think I look awful," you sigh and stare at your folded hands.

John puts his hand on top of yours, "No, Syrena. You're lovely, I just sometimes forget you're not like most girls. Clothes and your appearance aren't a main priority to you, you're not obsessed with yourself, and that's an admirable trait."

You smile at his words, “Thank you, John.”

Forty minutes later you are rushing around the flat like a crazy person. “I can’t find it!” You say frantically.

“Find what?” John asks, eager to help you in your search.

“My phone, it was on the coffee table charging  this morning, but it’s gone now!”

“Wait, where’s Sherlock?” John suddenly says.

“You think he sold my phone now?!” You ask, astonished.

“Or he’s using it for his own benefit,” John sighs and walks towards Sherlock’s room.

He knocks on the door, “Sherlock, you in there?” He timidly opens the door and Sherlock slams the door behind him as soon as John gets inside.

You are still in the living room waiting, but you can hear slightly muffled yelling from both sides and you wonder what they could possibly be arguing about now. Not like you had to think that hard, knowing Sherlock as you already did, he was probably being the insensitive, annoying jerk he was 24/7.

There's a knock at the door and you open it up to greet Molly’s smiling face. “Hello!” You smile but Molly can tell you’re kinda distracted.

“What’s up?” She asks, and slightly winces as she hears the yelling.

“Yep, that’s what's up.” You shake your head and head over to Sherlock’s door.

“Are you saying that you-” John’s voice is cut off when you knock on the door.

“John?” You call, “Molly’s here and I could really use my phone now if he has it…..” Your voice trails off.

“Oh, um.” The door opens a crack and you see your brother’s face,

“Is everything alright?” You ask with a raised eyebrow.

“Mhmm,” John nods and hands you your phone. “See ya,” he plants a kiss on your forehead then closes the door again.

“Suspicious,” You mumble and walk back over to Molly.

Molly smiles and says, “We’ll have to take a cab, it’s funny that none of us own a car.” She laughs.

You shrug and grin, “Doesn’t matter to me, you’ll just have to carry all the bags.” You joke.

“John said I’d probably have to force you to buy enough clothes,” Molly laughs as you both step outside into the London air.

“Did he now?” You smile to yourself and make sure you have your wallet in your coat pocket.

Molly puts a finger to her lips, "Shhh, it was supposed to be a secret."

"You mind if we make a stop before the clothing store?" Molly asks.

"Not at all," you smile, "so where to first?"

"The book store," Molly grins.

Your mouth opens in excitement, "I love books too!"

Molly nods, "I think John told me that before, that you were a bookworm or something."

You laugh, "Yep, everytime mom and dad left us alone when we were little I would force him to read to me."

"He sounds like he was a good brother," Molly smiles.

"He is." You smile back.

Once you arrive at the mall, your new friend leads you to a small book store.

"What kind of book are you looking for?" You ask as you scan the shelves.

Molly chuckles, “Don’t laugh, but I love romance.”

“I knew it!” You roll your eyes good naturedly.

“And what about you?”

“Mystery, fantasy, thriller. Anything that hooks me on the first page.” You grin.

“You’re going to like living with Sherlock,” Molly comments with a knowing smile.

You look at her unconvinced, “I doubt it.”

After buying a couple of books each, she leads you to a massive clothing store. "So what's your style?" She asks.

"Casual, comfy, but it doesn't look like I'm a sloth," you smirk.

"Got it," Molly laughs and makes her way to a part of the store that she thinks you'll like.

Two hours later both of you arrive back at 221b Baker Street with three bags in each hand.

"I'm home," you call out as you manage to open the door.

Sherlock is pacing back and forth in the living room and doesn't pay any attention to you.

"Hello, Sherlock." Molly greets with a smile.

Sherlock sighs, looks up, and nods a hello. Then he departs for his room.

"Where's John?" You ask before he can slam his bedroom door shut.

"Out on a call," Sherlock answers shortly, then disappears into his room.

"Almost forgot he was a doctor," you smirk as you remember your brother's profession.

Molly laughs and follows you into your bedroom to drop the clothes off. "Well," she smiles, "I should probably get going. It was nice getting to know you more, Syrena."

You grin back, "Thanks for taking me! I think we'll be good friends."

Molly nods and you lead her out to the door and say goodbye.

You head back to your room and shut the door, there wasn't really anything else to do with John being gone and Sherlock locking himself inside his bedroom. You think you can hear the floor creak outside your bedroom, but you ignore it and think it's probably just the flat, and not someone.

Hey lovelies ;) I started this story a few years ago, I hope some of you can appreciate it still, lol. Depending on how many reviews and likes I get, I might post more in this series. Thank you for giving me a chance!

#sherlock holmes #bbc sherlock #bbc sherlock x reader #sherlock imagine #sherlock fanfiction #john watson #dr john watson #molly hooper #sherlock community #sherlock fandom #sherlock fanfic #jim moriarty #james moriarty #professor moriarty #bbc sherlock x you #bbc sherlock x y/n #benedict cumberbatch

[verysmolnerd]

Smol’s Fanfic Masterlist

Holy moly I've been writing for four years in a row 

Hey! I've been a writer since 2020 and I'm heavily committed to the fandoms I'm in! If you want me to write about a character in HC's or a Drabble don't be afraid to ask! I’m more of an A03 Writer than I am on Tumblr; please keep that in mind. 

Professor Sycamore (Pokémon X & Y)

You're not from around here, are you?

Making summer camp memories 

Through the Firey flames of passion!

Stuck in the middle of chaos and rebirth (Poly with Lysandre)

The only tea shop in lumiose

I’d free up my schedule for you

Finding the missing piece in Alola

Speeding down the ski slopes (Poly with Lysandre)

Snowed in!

Running through a lucid dream

A couple of nerds on a roller coaster

Musician in the making

Experiencing the life of the city and forests

A couple on a empty campus

See you at the softball field!

How the mighty fall

Lie with me in a bed of daisies 

The finest dish in Kalos!

The Balance on Paiso

I’m not just your average mechanic

Fix your grammar 

Breaking the 4th wall!

I’m not much a bug person

A deity in human clothing

A well needed trip to the masseuse

Road Trip 

Harmonic Memories 

Holiday lab Parties

Lysandre (Pokémon X & Y)

Getting the lion’s attention

Speeding down the ski slopes (Poly with Professor Sycamore)  

Stuck in the middle of chaos and rebirth (Poly with Professor Sycamore)

Alfred Molina Characters

You’re rarer than the Medal of Honor Randall Pepperidge (Pink Panther 2) 

Playing Doctor Sir Jeremy Burtom (The imposters) 

Corpse of the Mine Reverend Leland Drury (White Fang 2: Myth of the White Wolf) 

Under the Algae Jim Bussey (The Water Man) 

Monster in the Lecture Hall Derek Knight (Monsters University)

Electrifying Love Hugh Weldon (Pete’s Meteor)

Costume Mishap Otto Octavius (Spider-Man 2 & NWH)

Dessert of a Lifetime Comte de Reynaud (Chocolat) 

Beyond Curfew Sgt. Steven Dunlop (The Little Traitor)  

Campus escapade Frank Burton (Abduction) 

Lap Space? Free Real Estate. Jim Bussey (The Water Man) 

Christmas. A Year later.  Otto Octavius (Spider-Man 2 & NWH)

Soft Spells and Sweatpants Maxim Horvath (The Sorcerer’s Apprentice) 

Way Back When Snidely Whiplash (Dudley Do-Right) 

Mentally buried by Snow Otto Octavius (Spider-Man 2 & NWH)

I do love a working man Paul Weller (Breakable You)

Whiskey on The Rocks Otto Octavius (Spider-Man 2 & NWH)

The Villain I Appear to Be Snidely Whiplash (Dudley Do-Right)

Diving Too Deep Otto Octavius (Spider-Man 2 & NWH)

A Magical Masterpiece (Maybe a Catastrophe) Maxim Horvath (The Sorcerer’s Apprentice)

Painting the Past Diego Rivera (Frida) 

He’s Just a Guppy and I’m a Killer Whale Otto Octavius (Spider-Man 2 & NWH)

A Friend on The Other Side Derek Knight (Monsters University)(Sequel to Monster in The Lecture Hall) 

My Little Soldier Konstantin “Kostya” Dmitrievich Levin (Anna Karenina 1997)

Peering Through a Shattered Looking Glass King of Hearts (Alfred Molina Fancast)

Your Body is My Canvas Otto Octavius (Spider-Man 2 & NWH)

To Transform... To Lose Oneself.. Maxim Horvath (The Sorcerer’s Apprentice) 

Drabbles on Tumblr

Professor Sycamore date hcs (Pokemon X & Y)

Lysandre date hcs (Pokemon X & Y)

Mayday’s Playdate  Otto Octavius, Peter Parker, and Mayday Parker (Spider-Man 2, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, NWH, and Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse) 

Double-shift Drowsiness Otto Octavius (Spider-Man 2 & NWH) 

Once Upon A Dream Otto Octavius (Spider-Man 2 & NWH) 

KoH HeadCannons King of Hearts (Alfred Molina Fancast)

You gave my heart a jumpstart (literally) Professor Sycamore (Pokémon X & Y)

Sick!Reader Drabble Professor Sycamore (Pokémon X & Y)

Courted by Aurthian Times! Maxim Horvath (The Sorcerer’s Apprentice) 

Dating Pre accident!Otto (Spider-Man 2 & NWH) 

Maxim with a magical child (The Sorcerer’s Apprentice) 

Meeting Otto in college (Spider-Man 2 & NWH) 

Meeting the Comte on holiday Comte de Reynaud (Chocolat) 

Being the Spouse of a Supervillain Otto Octavius (Spider-Man 2 & NWH) 

Boop reaction hc (variety) Otto Octavius, Maxim Horvath, Hugh Weldon,Snidely Whiplash, Kostya, Comte de Reynaud, and Armand Gamache

Vacationing with Otto (Spider-Man 2 & NWH)

Dating Post NWH Otto (Spider-Man 2 & NWH)

Yandere Maxim Horvath (The Sorcerer’s Apprentice)

Alien! Steven Arden (Species)

Doc Ock Visits a Doctor (Spider-Man 2 & NWH)

What a drag..Queen. Robert Aldrich (Feud)

This is why we can’t have nice things Otto Octavius (Spider-Man 2 & NWH)

#The nerd writes #masterlist #professor sycamore #professor sycamore x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfics #my work #Alfred Molina #Doc Ock #maxim horvath #hugh weldon #Derek Knight #konstantin dmitrievich levin #snidely whiplash #comte de reynaud #jim bussey #sir jeremy burton #lysandre #Frank Burton #diego rivera #paul weller #randall pepperidge #Steven dunlop #reverend leland drury

[hazybisou]

❛ HYBE BOY ❜

🧸🩰 i’m a lucky fella, i’ve just got to tell her that i love her endlessly

summary - quinn hughes, captain of the Vancouver Canucks, is dating model, y/n y/l/n and hard launches his relationship leaving people shocked at how beautiful she is and making his brothers question how he managed to pull her.

pairing - model!f!reader x quinn hughes

side note - miranda kerr will be used as a faceclaim for the ig posts. but like she’s so beautiful omgggg 😻😻 *careless whisper starts playing* anyways uni is going so well. my professors are so chill like literally it’s amazing. i barely know anyone here (yes after a whole month here, i only know like 6 people). but uni is amazing my roommate is the best and it’s js a great experience!!

✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫

_quinnhughes

liked by lhughes_06, user01, trevorzegras, and 81,920 others

_quinnhughes i’ll keep this one, thanks. 😃

tagged: @/y/n.y/l/n

view comments

colecaufield found in the wild 🐗🕵️

_quinnhughes ❌

user81 Y/N Y/L/N DATING A HOCKEY PLAYER??!! MY WORLDS ARE COLLIDING 🥲🥲

jackhughes 👁️🌊🫵

user17 jack what is this??! 😭😭

user38 he’s weird

user82 he js built diff

trevorzegras quinnifer got (no) game??!

_quinnhughes at least i have a girl where’s yours *looks around* oh i forgot 🥲

trevorzegras you’re my girl @/_quinnhughes don’t worry 😘

jackhughes AYE!!

_quinnhughes @/jackhughes @/y/n.y/l/n idk what he’s talking abt 😥

y/n.y/l/n trev wishes 😔😔

user93 NOOOO😭!!!!

user72 sad day for us quinn girlies 😔

user57 trevor and quinn are umm…

y/n.y/l/n weird and not okay i know and also very much in love with each other???

user57 yes

y/n.y/l/n have you fixed the bed yet??

_quinnhughes no..

lhughes_06 the beds broken?? oh 😐

y/n.y/l/n he jumped on it to hard and made a leg break

jackhughes YO WHAT

_quinnhughes @/jackhughes in my defense she was chasing me

y/n.y/l/n @/_quinnhughes you caused that to happen when YOU THREW A PILLOW AT ME

_quinnhughes @/y/n.y/l/n IM SORRY TAKE ME BACK

y/n.y/l/n @/_quinnhughes YOURE NEXT TO ME STUPID

trevorzegras ☕️☕️

user92 SHES SO PRETTY OMGGG 💕💕

user29 new wag alert!!!

user69 girlie so fine 😻😻

bradytkachuk emma said to stop forcing her to say you guys are together

ehtkachuk yea bc she’s MY wife not YOUR gf

y/n.y/l/n @/_quinnhughes ^^

_quinnhughes @/bradytkachuk @/ehtkachuk @/y/n.y/l/n why are you all after me 😔😔

colemcward mama y papa? mama. papa.

y/n.y/l/n my son is all alone 😭😭

_quinnhughes he’ll live

colemcward @/_quinnhughes no i won’t

lhughes_06 @/y/n.y/l/n why is he your son and not me???

y/n.y/l/n @/lhughes_06 bc you’re the annoying little brother i wished i had growing up

elblue6 my beautiful daughter 💕💕 and her interesting bf

_quinnhughes i’m your biological son??!

y/n.y/l/n quinny shh 🤫 ALSO MAMA EL 😘😘♥️

user48 parents so cute 🥰🥰

✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫ ✫

y/n and quinn had been together in michigan for a week now and his brothers were yet to meet her. she had met his parents a couple months before and they’ve loved her ever since. ellen treated her as if she were her own daughter. they would talk about quinn and his behavior and quinn would be in the back, getting offended. jim was like her second father. he was protective of her and was his little girl even if they weren’t blood related.

the couple were on the couch, all cozy and cuddling when they heard a car pull up outside. quinn looked down at y/n who had her eyes closed, trying to go asleep after being out that day. “babe,” quinn heard a mumble come from the girl, “they’re here.” she grumbled in response.

quinn had told her last night that they would arrive at the lake house tomorrow evening. she was half asleep when he told her so all he got from her was an “okay,” before he began to hear soft snores come from her mouth.

“quinny, let me sleep please,” y/n whispered, “i’ll meet them later.”

quinn just smiled and leaned down to kiss her temple. he rested his head on top of hers and closed his eyes, hoping to sleep as well.

unfortunately, in this household, a good nights sleep was never a thing. that was proven as the front door suddenly burst open which quinn jumped slightly at the action and caused y/n to stir in her sleep, letting out a small whine.

“honey, we’re home!” an, oh, so familiar voice announced.

quinn turned his head to the side and peaked over the couch. as soon as he saw his brothers, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes at their antics and go back to trying to go to sleep.

he heard chattering and the padding of footsteps get closer, indicating they were coming his way. he began to think of a way of how he would get up without waking up y/n. there was no way.

quinn reopened his eyes and saw two figures standing in front of him. “what the fuck?” he questioned and his brothers laughed at his face.

“i see you’ve been having fun.” luke said and his eyes traveled down to y/n’s sleeping figure and he raised an eyebrow at quinn. “like i knew you had a girlfriend but she’s way out of your league.”

quinn let out a fake chuckle. “get the hell out and let us sleep.” he commented and wrapped his arms around y/n, his arm covering her face from jack and luke.

“but we just got here.” jack pointed out and luke murmured in agreement.

“then go up to your rooms.”

“but we want to meet your girlfriend.” luke stated with a fake pout.

quinn glared at the pair. “she’s sleeping so leave,” he stated and closed his eyes, protecting y/n from their view.

“we’re coming back when you’re both wide awake.” jack pointed a finger at quinn before he and quinn went to the front to get their bags and head upstairs.

quinn shook his head and went back to sleep, awaiting the moment of when y/n wakes up.

the couple had surprisingly slept for an hour and a half. it surprised quinn since he knew his brothers and the amount of noise they made whenever one of them were sleeping.

y/n had begun to wake as she had begun to squirm in quinn’s hold. he let out a groan and held her closer to his body, her squirming subsiding. “q, let go.” she mumbled into his chest. he held her tight. “quinn.”

“go to sleep, princess.” quinn whispered, his eyes still closed.

y/n started to squirm once again. “no, i have to meet your brothers as i said before.” she really wanted to meet luke and jack but with quinn’s hold keeping her restrained, it was impossible.

“they can wait.”

“no we can’t.”

quinn snapped his head towards the voice and y/n lifted her head and looked towards the boy. “why are you everywhere luke?”

luke shrugged, “i don’t know,” he sat at the end of the couch, “i just am.”

quinn rolled his eyes and looked down at y/n. “well you’ve met luke,” he told her.

“and the other?”

“i have a name.” jack.

y/n turned towards the boy, “yeah i know. sorry jack.”

jack shrugged and sat next to luke who gave jack a look. “what?” luke stared at him for a second before using all his force to push jack off. he fell with a thud and quinn, luke, and y/n laughed. “asshole.”

“man whore.”

jack looked up at luke. he got up within a second before he pounced onto luke. the two began to fight, jokingly, of course. jack had an arm wrapped around luke who let out a scream. “get off of me.” luke managed to get out despite jack’s arm suffocating him. luke continuously slapped jack’s arm in an effort for his older brother to let go.

“no.” the two continued to fight and quinn and y/n just stayed there laughing at the two.

“well you’ve met thing 1 and thing 2.” quinn said as he looked down at y/n. “i don’t know how they haven’t killed each other in jersey yet.”

y/n looked up at him. “you have a wonderful family.”

“aren’t we just lovely?” luke asked as he wriggled under jack’s hold. “also one more question,” y/n and quinn looked at him, “did quinn force you to get with him?”

jack’s head perked up at this. “oh yeah, did he?” he let go of luke as he turned towards his older brother and his girlfriend.

y/n only chuckled and quinn gave them a death stare. “no, i didn’t. she simply fell in love with me.”

jack and luke looked at each other. suddenly, the two bursted out laughing. both quinn and y/n were confused. they had a look on there face as the younger pair continued laughing. “what?”

“oh, we’re sorry but how is it that a girl like her, take this in a good way, would fall in love with a guy like you?” jack said and luke was still too busy laughing.

quinn looked at them, offended, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“she’s beautiful! and you’re just..you.” luke exclaimed. “like let’s be real here.”

y/n turned to them, “i didn’t fall in love with him because of his looks, i fell in love with him because of his personality,” she looked towards quinn before looking back at the younger brothers, “although sometimes he’s a little interesting.”

“what do you mean interesting?”

“a wet cat.”

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i fucking hate this so much like actually wtff 😭😭 anyways here’s my monthly post and hopefully some of you enjoy it. uni is my new home and umm it’s great!! now my roommate and my friends are making go to a frat tmrw so uhh hopefully it goes well (ik it won’t) wish me luck 🤞

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #nhl imagine #vancover canucks #nhl #nhl hockey #hockey #jack hughes #luke hughes #isa’s works 🦭

[entitled-fangirl]

Masterlist <3

I started writing fanfics in late January this year, and I'm so glad you guys like it! 4 months and 50+ fanfics already!

Bridgerton

Benedict Bridgerton

A beautiful thing to picture, indeed.

One happy marriage.

Saltburn

Felix Catton

He would burn the world for her.

I love hearing about your day. SMUT

The cold ground provided no comfort.

Sweet little nothings.

So guilty.

Breakfast is ready.

It's like heaven. SMUT

Anything for you, beautiful girl. SMUT

The Last of Us

Joel Miller

A civilized meal.

Never been more thankful.

They're not gonna hit you.

Her saving grace.

Sweet mama.

Miller baby.

Two idiots in love. Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 (Finished series)

Mandalorian

Din D'jarin

His perfect little Cyar'ika.

You've made me worry.

Such a pretty sight.

I know you made her your riduur.

Good Omens

Crowley

He may always be a demon, but she still loves him.

Hannibal NBC

Hannibal x reader x Will

I see the way you look at her, William.

His carefully crafted web.

A predicament.

Terms of Endearment (drabble).

Will Graham

No Pajama Party for you, Mr. Graham.

Fishing 101.

Their safe hold.

So scared but so happy.

Polar

Duncan Visla

Four days of hell.

Midsommar

Pelle

That's a love rune. Casts a love spell.

Twilight

Jasper Hale

Are you scared of me, Princess?

Sparring.

Marcus Volturi

The Best Thing for Marcus.

Caius Volturi

The human did interrupt.

Sherlock BBC

Jim Moriarty

A deer in the headlights.

Harry Potter Universe

Barty Crouch Jr.

His betrothed. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.

I hope I do.

Severus Snape

The astronomy professor.

Remus Lupin

Our needs. SMUT

James Potter

Feeling unwell.

OC stories:

Harry Potter universe:

The misaligned stars.

Remus Lupin x OC x (past)Regulus Black

Summary: The golden trio knocks on the door of someone who can help them with the Slytherin locket.

................

I'm new to the whole writing side of things but I'm open to try requests!

Here's the link for what I write for!

Fanfic count: 59

#masterlist #imagine #fanfiction #fanfics

[spencerreidswhore187]

False Confidence

Don't take yourself so seriously / Look at you all dressed up for someone you never see.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer and Y/N hate each other, they just don't realise they have been anonymously messaging for months.

Word Count: 2.8k

T/W: Mentions of murder and death

A/N: For @sackofpissandshit . I came up for the premise of this as a plate of prawns fell onto my head at work. Enjoy! ◡̈

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

SherlockHolmes1887: You were right. 

You couldn’t help the smile that stretched across your face; you replied immediately, the half-drunk coffee in your hand forgotten. 

NapoleonOfCrime: Feel free to say that again.

He did.  

Briefly, you looked up from your phone to cross the road. You were on the way to work having just received a message from Hotch. It sounded urgent. 

NapoleonOfCrime: So what made you realise that, as per usual, I was right? 

You had spent the better part of the night trying to convince him that Sherlock Holmes was in love with Jim Moriarty. You had met him online several months ago, on an Arthur Conan Doyle forum and have been messaging ever since. 

He, except for the one and only Penelope Garcia, was your best friend. You told him everything. Except for who you are. 

Early on in talking you both had agreed not to exchange names, tell each other where you lived or what you did for a career. You knew what SherlockHolmes1887 favourite film was (Star Trek), that he liked wearing mismatched socks and his mum used to call him ‘Crash’ because he would crash into things when he was younger. You knew that, like you, he had four qualifications, liked Sherlock Holmes and had an unhealthy obsession with coffee. You just didn’t know his name. 

Your phone vibrated. 

SherlockHolmes1887: “The greatest schemer of all time, the organiser of every devilry, the controlling brain of the underworld, a brain which might have made or marred the destiny of nations—that's the man! But so aloof is he from general suspicion, so immune from criticism, so admirable in his management and self-effacement, that for those very words that you have uttered he could hale you to a court and emerge with your year's pension as a solatium for his wounded character. [...] Foulmouthed doctor and slandered professor—such would be your respective roles! That's genius, Watson.”

Your phone buzzed again. You silenced it as you walked into the BAU elevator. 

SherlockHolmes1887: I reread ‘The Valley of Fear’ last night. 

You were about to reply when a voice cried out. 

“Hold the door!” 

Instinctively, you stretched your arm out between the closing elevator doors. 

The person entered beside you. 

If you had known who had asked, you would have let the doors shut. 

Dr Spencer Reid leant on his cane, drumming his fingers against its metal top as the elevator moved upwards. He had recently been shot in the leg on a case. You would never tell him but when that gun fired, you thought you were going to be sick. Your heart ached. It made you hate him even more.

“Reid,” you said, staring forward. You refused to look at him.

“L/N,” He replied. 

That was the most words you’d exchanged in days. 

When the doors finally opened again, you both headed towards the round table, where the rest of the team was waiting. 

You and Spencer were the last to arrive. 

It’s not like him to be late, you thought.  

You took a seat between Emily Prentiss and Derek Morgan - you were sat as far away from Spencer as possible.

“Now that you are all here,” Hotch began, pulling you from your thoughts, “let’s begin.” 

Penelope connected her computer to the screen; there was a picture of a body. The flesh was rotten, decayed from what was evidently years hidden away. Your eyes are wide as you saw it: a long cut, rough and jagged, stretched from neck to naval. You recognised this signature. 

“The Brooklyn Butcher,” you said, interrupting the silence. 

Hotch nodded. 

It was a case that had occurred six years ago and ended up going cold. 

Spencer recalled, “Eleven women, all under the age of twenty-five, all with red hair, went missing and then their bodies always turned up three days later with a long knife wound across their torso.” 

“The only body,” you continued, “that was never discovered was Sharon Lewis’. The first to go missing. The wife of Mitch Lewis, the prime suspect during the investigation.” 

“Why wasn’t he arrested?” Derek asked. 

Spencer answered before you could, tucking a strand of his brown hair behind his ear. Why did you want to run your hands through his hair? 

“There was no evidence. The police’s only theory was his wife was his first kill and he killed all the other victims who resembled her in an attempt to relive the thrill of the kill.”

“He had an alibi for Sharon Lewis’ disappearance,” you added. 

“Correct - they also never found her body. They couldn’t prove their theory without her body.” 

“Well,” Hotch said, “they have now.” 

“Sharon Lewis, aged twenty-four, was the first victim in the Brooklyn Butcher killings. Cause of death, blunt force trauma to the head.” 

JJ leant back in her chair and pressed her pen to her lips, “So the cut was postmortem?”

“According to the coroners.” 

“But that was not the case for the rest of the victims?”

“No,” Hotch replied. 

“Our UNSUB gained confidence in his kills.” 

Lewis was likely his first-ever kill. You wanted to message Sherlock and ask him what he thought. He was intelligent beyond belief, you were sure he would add valuable insight to this case but you couldn’t tell him. Then he would know you worked for the Behavioural Analysis Unit. You couldn’t let him know that. He couldn’t know who you were. What would he think then? When he knew you were more comfortable around dead bodies than real people.

“How was the body discovered?” Spencer asked. 

Hotch had that dark look in his eyes, the one he got when an UNSUB scared him. You hadn’t seen that look in his eyes since Haley died. 

“The body was left on an empty police vehicle parked outside a station in Brooklyn. There was a note attached to it.”

Penelope clicked a button on her laptop and the slide changed to a screwed-up piece of paper nailed to the shoulder of the body. 

Hotch read it aloud, “You have three days before I kill another. Happy hunting, the Butcher.”

He stood up from his seat, “Selene Harker was reported missing twelve hours ago. We leave for New York now - wheels up in twenty. Penelope, you’re coming with us.” 

She smiled nervously, you gave her a discreet thumbs up. 

Everyone stood up from the round table and headed towards the door, you had grabbed the handle when Hotch stopped you.

“L/N, you need to stay here.”

You froze, confused. 

He continued, “Reid has not been cleared to fly by his doctors yet and I need you to go through the old Mitch Lewis interrogation clips, find out whether he told any lies. Stay in touch.” 

With that he left the room, leaving you there with Spencer before you had a second to protest. 

You weren’t really sure how you did it, it’s an ability you’ve had since you were a kid. It’s how you were flagged by the FBI. You could tell when people lied. Everyone has a tell and, like the lie-detecter you are, you knew how to spot it. 

When you and Reid had first met, three years ago, he had told you all the statistics about lies: “Did you know,” he had said, “10% of all lies can be defined as exaggerations, though 60% of all lies are considered to be deceptive.” 

You remembered how you had nodded, anxious as it was your first day. 

“Of all liars, 70% of them claim to be willing to do it again. Every week, Americans tell 11 lies. In a study of 11,366 lies told by 632 people over 91 days, 75% of them lied between 0 or 2 times per day.”

“You know a lot,” You had laughed. 

Reid seemed kind. You liked kind people; you dealt with a lot of horrible people growing up. 

“I have an eidetic memory and an IQ of 187.” 

That was the first time you and Spencer had ever spoken and it was the last time you ever spoke like friends. 

You spun on your heels to face Spencer. 

“You leave me alone and I’ll leave you be. Understood?” 

“Understood,” Spencer said, rolling his eyes. 

“God, you are so infuriating.”

“I hate you,” he retorted. 

You noticed the way his jaw tensed. 

You grinned, “Lie.” 

Spencer groaned and left the room. Through the window, you saw him take a seat at his desk. 

Laughing, you walked into Penelope’s office and pulled up the police footage. 

You were three hours into the Mitch Lewis footage and he had told three lies. 

The first was that he did not know what happened to the other victims. Although, this could mean he had read about the case online. 

The second was more interesting. Lewis said he was at the pub when his wife disappeared. Even though there was security camera footage to confirm this, he was lying, 

The third made your head spin. He said he didn’t kill her. True. He said he didn’t know where she was. Lie. 

You paused the interrogation and contacted Hotch to tell him what you had found. He replied telling you to take a break as they searched for Mitch Lewis. 

In an attempt to distract yourself, you reached for your phone and messaged Sherlock. 

NapoleonOfCrime: Hi.

He replied almost immediately. 

SherlockHolmes1887: Hey.

NapoleonOfCrime: So you read ‘The Valley of Fear’ in one night just to try and prove me wrong? 

SherlockHolmes1887: If that’s how you want to interpret it :) 

NapoleonOfCrime: And?

SherlockHolmes1887: And…they are very much in love. It’s almost blindingly obvious. 

NapoleonOfCrime: “It has been an intellectual treat for me to see the manner in which you have grappled with this case.” The definition of enemies to lovers.

SherlockHolmes1887: Enemies to lovers? 

You don’t think you ever smiled as much as when you did with him. 

NapoleonOfCrime: It’s better you don’t ask, or else I’ll be sending you links to Moriaty x Sherlock fan fiction.

SherlockHolmes1887: What are you doing right now?

Your fingers danced along the tiny keyboard on the phone screen.

NapoleonOfCrime: Work. You? 

SherlockHolmes1887: Work. 

NapoleonOfCrime: How is it? 

It made you nervous that he didn’t reply instantly. 

NapoleonOfCrime: Don’t worry, this isn’t me trying to figure out what you do or who you are. I like the mystery. 

SherlockHolmes1887: Horrible. But it’s not really work that’s the problem. There’s a girl. 

It hurt a little to know there was a girl, of course it did, but you didn’t mind. What you cared about was how he seemed distressed. 

NapoleonOfCrime: If you want to share, I’m a good listener. 

He typed for what seemed like an eternity. 

SherlockHolmes1887: We, her and I, have worked together for years. She’s smart and funny and beautiful. So beautiful. But she hates me. I messed up when we first met, I was so nervous around her that I just ignored her. Whenever she tried to speak to me, I would walk away or just act like she wasn’t there. And, now, I am finally more confident, she can’t even be near me without glaring in my direction at least once. 

You yearned for someone to talk about you that way. No one had ever told you that you were beautiful. You didn’t need someone to tell you because you didn’t believe it, it’s just that sometimes, on the inevitable bad days, you want to feel wanted. 

NapoleonOfCrime: I’m sure if you explain it to her, she will understand - you said she’s smart. I can see why you like her. 

SherlockHolmes1887: Yeah, I fell hard. 

I fell hard. 

You recalled what Hotch had said, “Cause of death, blunt force trauma to the head.” 

You recalled how the cut was messy and hesitant whilst the rest were neat. 

 You recalled how it was done postmortem whilst the rest were the cause of death. 

You ran out of Penelope’s office, straight to Dr Spencer Reid. 

“Spence,” you shouted.

You were both alone in the room. 

Spencer looked up from his phone. It was strange, to see him on a phone. You had always thought he was the type of person to hate technology. Instead, he seemed thoroughly invested in whatever was on his screen. 

“Who are you messaging?” You asked, acting causal.

“No one,” he said.

Lie.

“A girl?”

“No.” 

Lie.

Spencer’s face had gone bright red. It was cute; it made you smile. 

Why did it make you smile? 

You decided to change the topic before your face went red. 

“Do you have the coroner’s report?” You questioned. 

He dug through the many files covering his desk and held it up for you to see. 

Blunt force to the frontal lobe, that confirmed your suspicions. 

You stared into Spencer’s brown eyes.

“I know what happened to Sharon Lewis.” 

You explained how it must have happened. Sharon was reported missing by her friend at 19:37. She was supposed to be meeting her a 18:00. Mitch Lewis was at a bar from 17:30-20:01, this was confirmed by camera footage. This means that Lewis can’t have kidnapped his wife. Or, perhaps, she never went missing. She tripped getting ready to see her friend and fell down the staircase. She would have died upon impact.

Spencer nodded in agreement with your theory.

“When Lewis got home and saw his wife’s body sprawled out at the base of the stairs, he saw an opportunity…” 

“He dragged her downstairs to the basement, explaining the deep scratches on her back noted in the coroner’s report.” You said, “Lewis worked in construction, he had a table and tools down there, he said so in one of his interrogations. He placed her on that table and cut her. He butchered her. And then did the same to others to try and recreate the high of killing his wife.” 

“We need to call Hotch.” 

Four hours later and Mitch Lewis had confessed and was in police custody.

Derek and Emily had found Selene Harker chained to the very same table Lewis had carved his wife like a cold slab of meat. 

The team was on their way back from Quantico.

You found Spencer sitting on a bench outside the FBI building. Spinning the silver ring your grandmother gave you around your index finger, you sat down next to him. 

You both stared forward, at the road. 

You were glad that you weren’t the only one who was affected by cases like this. You were glad that you weren’t the only one overwhelmed by empathy. Your mother once told you that empathy without boundaries was self-destruction but you were just glad that after so much time in this field, you still felt something. 

Spencer eventually broke the silence. 

“It scares me, Y/N, how easy a life can end.” 

Spencer clutched his cane so tightly that his knuckles went white. 

Gently, you eased one of his hands off it and held it in yours. 

You could hear your blood rushing in your ears. It was deafening. 

“You know, when I was a kid, I was always tripping over things. I walked into doors, tables, you name it. My mum would call me ‘Crash.’”

He laughed dryly whilst your world began to crumble around you. 

You dropped Spencer’s hand. 

“Sh-she called you what?” 

Spencer turned to look at you, confusion and worry were etched across his face, “Y/N? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” 

It’s not that you were upset, in fact, you felt almost the opposite of that. 

Your voice was steadier than you expected when you spoke.

“He is the Napoleon of crime, Watson.”

“Y/N?”

“He is the organiser of half that is evil and of nearly all that is undetected in this great city.”

“It can’t be.” 

Spencer held his face in his hands. 

“Disappointed, Sherlock Holmes 1887?”

You said it mockingly but you were terrified of what Spencer would say. 

“No, Napoleon of Crime. Not even a little bit.”

True.

“You told me to explain how I felt to that girl so here goes. The first thing I noticed about you was your smile. I saw it from the other side of the room. And, Y/N, it was contagious. Just looking at you made me smile. You are so beautiful and so intelligent and I have wanted to tell you how desperately I liked you since the day we met.” 

He cradled your cheek with one hand. 

“And now I know that this whole time, as well as being the person I can see myself falling in love with, you are my best friend, my favourite, my person.” 

“I hate you, Spence,” you say just before you kiss him. 

Smiling against your lips, you hear him whisper, “Lie.” 

#criminal minds #spencer reid #mathew gray gubler #mgg #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #y/n #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jennifer jereau #penelope garcia #light angst #enemies to lovers

[grxmreaperx]

Professor Hoffman

Pairing: (professor!) Mark Hoffman x (f!) reader

Word count: 3.1k (oops)

Warnings: 18+!! this is absolute filth. Daddy kink, choking, oral (m! receiving), fingering (f! receiving), dirty talk, p in v penetration, creampie, age gap (everyone is over 18!!), praise/degradation. Mark being a bastard. I’m so sorry

Summary: You weren’t expecting much from your criminology class. But when you see your professor for the first time, you realize the class may be much more interesting than you were expecting.

I went so overboard with this. I do not know where this came from. I apologize for my actions. Also, all of my knowledge comes from Jim Can’t Swim and Explore With Us interrogation analysis videos, so don’t come for me if some of the criminology stuff is wrong!!

You walked into the lecture hall, bag digging into your shoulder after a long day, trying to find a seat. You sighed. Almost every seat was full, people congregating in the back. You set yourself down in the second row from the front, one of the few empty seats.

You pulled your laptop out of your bag, trying to keep yourself awake. This was your last class of the day and all you could think about was getting back to your apartment and having a nice dinner.

You stifled a yawn, eyes unfocused on your screen.

“Welcome, everyone.”

The deep voice jolted you from your haze, drawing your eyes up from your computer, and onto him.

You felt a jolt run through your body as you took him in. Dark hair neatly pushed back, full lips, chest straining at his suit.

“I’m Professor Hoffman. I’ll be your criminology instructor this semester.”

Shit, maybe you weren’t so ready to go home anymore.

--

That was the one class you didn’t find yourself dreading. Your other psychology and criminal justice classes were a bore, lecturers talking monotonously for an hour and twenty minutes as you tried desperately to stay awake. Professor Hoffman’s class was actually interesting, it challenged you, made you think. He didn’t force you all to listen to him talk the entire time, even if you wouldn’t have minded hearing that voice for hours on end. He had been a detective before switching to teaching a few years back, so he played interrogation tapes, having you all watch the body language, the word choice, the facial expressions of the suspect.

And it was nice to have something pretty to look at while he taught.

You were a bit embarrassed by how many times he had caught you staring at him. You had never looked at a professor as anything more than a teacher, a mentor, before now. But during his lecture, you found your mind drifting. What his voice would sound like in your ear, how his hands would feel roaming over you, the noises he would make.

You had had your fair share of adventures in college, going out with your friends and ending up in someone’s bed every once in a while. But none of them had been anything to brag about; frat boys only in it for themselves, guys who had no idea what they were doing, or didn’t know how to make it last.

You needed something more, something satisfying.

“So, tell me, do you think this suspect was guilty or not guilty? And tell me why.”

His voice shook you out of your daydream, bringing you back to your reality. Your eyes scanned over the screen, trying to remember bits and pieces of the interrogation you were supposed to have been watching.

You raised your hand; as much as you hated it, you wanted to impress the man. You wanted to show him that you were smart, that you knew what you were talking about. And that you were paying attention, not just staring at him the entire time.

He nodded towards you, telling you to go ahead. “Not guilty. He got angry when you accused him, which is a very typical response from someone who is being falsely accused. And he didn’t use any hedge words when he was talking, which would be unusual for a guilty person. And there’s no obvious motive.”

Your professor smirked, nodding along as you answered. “Very good. That’s exactly right. Another clue to tell you this was…”

You zoned out, trying to contain yourself at his praise.

--

He scolded himself, his gaze continuously falling onto you throughout every class.

He had left the police department a couple years ago, looking for a job with shorter hours, more time to relax, less frustration.

But now he had a different kind of frustration.

Every class, there you were. Sitting right in front of him, eyes watching him intently as he spoke. He saw the way your face changed every time he walked in the room, your tired face lighting up a bit. He saw the way your gaze lingered on him when you were supposed to be working on an assignment, or watching one of the interviews you were meant to be dissecting.

He noticed your attempts to impress him, always eager to answer his questions. You were always there early, even when others began to slowly fade out, showing up late or not showing up at all.

And, he had to admit, it was working. You were smart, and he could see how interested you were in this topic, even if you seemed to be a bit more interested in him than the class. He knew you’d make a great detective one day; your understanding of others’ minds would be a great asset to the force.

He almost wished he hadn’t left the department. He would give anything to still be in his position when you were first starting out in the field, eager to learn, to impress, to please. He would love for you to train under him, your frustration growing as he teased you, giving you smaller and smaller tasks, making you prove yourself.

He pulled himself away from his thoughts, shuffling his notes together before the start of class.

“Alright everyone, I’ve posted your grades for your last assignment. Some of you did very well, others seem to be a bit distracted in this course.” He purposefully shifted his gaze, meeting your eyes as he spoke this last part.

He suppressed a smirk as he saw your face flush.

“Now, the rational choice theory…”

--

“I really don’t know what I’m doing wrong in that class,” you sighed.

Your friend nodded. “I mean, he is a pretty tough grader. I don’t think I’ve gotten above a C on anything.”

“Yeah, but I feel like my work is good! Some of it he seems to really like, and then others he’s super harsh. But I thought this last paper was really good!”

“Maybe you should go talk to him about it. Maybe he could help you out, tell you what you’re doing wrong.”

“Yeah, I guess. I probably should. I really like this class; I want to do well in it.”

Your friend smirked. “Do you like the class, or do you like the hot professor?”

You lightly slapped their arm. “Shut up, I don’t think he’s hot.”

They laughed. “Of course you do! I see you staring at him all the time! It’s ok: he is pretty hot.”

You felt your face heating up. “Ok, maybe I think he’s kinda hot, but I like the class too!”

“I hear you.”

--

As class ended the next day, you took a breath. You shouldn’t be this nervous to talk to him, he was your professor, of course he would be willing to help you. You lingered in your seat for a few moments, taking longer than usual to stuff your laptop back in your bag. As people filed out of the room, you carefully approached his desk.

“Professor Hoffman?”

He looked up, smiling slightly as he met your eyes. “Yes, what can I do for you?”

“I was hoping that maybe you had time to talk to me about my last paper? I was wondering if you could tell me what I did wrong, or what I could improve next time?”

He regarded you for a moment and you couldn’t help but shift a bit under his gaze.

“Of course. I have another class in a few minutes, but I have time to meet tomorrow, if you’d like.”

You nodded, thanking him as he gave you a time and his office number. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

He smirked. “See you then. Don’t be late.”

--

“What are you all dressed up for?” your friend asked.

“What? I’m not dressed up. Do I look dressed up?”

“I mean, maybe not dressed up, but you look nice. What’s the occasion?”

“Nothing, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

They smiled. “Oh! Now I remember. You have your meeting with the hot professor today! That’s why you dressed so cute.”

“I did not!”

“I don’t believe you. You better hurry up, don’t you have to be there in a few minutes?”

You looked at your phone, cursing under your breath. They were right, you only had a couple minutes before your meeting. You sped up your pace, telling your friend you’d see them later as they walked to their class building.

“You better tell me all about it! Don’t do anything inappropriate, young lady!”

You hurried into the brick building that held Professor Hoffman’s office, trying to find the room number he had given you. Your eyes scanned the plaques next to each door, looking for the one engraved with his name. When you finally found it, the door was shut. You knocked softly, waiting patiently until you heard a voice tell you to come in.

You pushed the door open, examining his office as you entered. One wall was lined with bookshelves, filled with books on psychology, criminal justice, and what looked like case files. His desk sat in front of the window, his back to the light streaming in through the glass. He sat, leaned back in his desk chair, shirt slightly unbuttoned and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“Take a seat,” he said, motioning to the chair in front of his desk. You quickly complied, smoothing your skirt as you sat down.

--

He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you when you walked into his office, closing the door behind you. He should have punished you right then for testing him like that: all dressed up for him, pretty skirt cutting off just above your knees, shirt lower cut than he had ever seen you wearing in class.

“So,” he started, trying to regain his composure. “You wanted to talk to me about your paper?”

You nodded. “Yes, sir.” Fuck. “I was wondering if you could tell me what I could have done better with this assignment. I thought I did really well on it, until I got my grade back.”

He cleared his throat. “Yes, well, it was very well-written. And you have the concepts down. But your job was to analyze the video, not just repeat what I had said in class. Even if you put it a bit more eloquently than I did.” He smiled. “I almost get the feeling that you’re a bit…distracted in my class.

He watched as you became flustered, a smile still on his lips. “Well, professor, I just – I just have a lot on my mind. Sometimes it wanders, you know?” Your eyes darted around, staring at your hands, your bag on the floor, the surface of his desk.

He nodded. “Wanders to what?”

He couldn’t help the smug look on his face as you struggled to answer. He knew what your mind wandered to, he could see it on your face when you were supposed to be paying attention to his lectures. He saw the blush on your face, the way your pupils were blown. And he knew exactly where your mind was wandering to.

“Well, you know, to other things I have to do.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Like me?”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

“You heard me. I see the way you stare at me, the look on your face when I catch you. You think I have no idea what you think about when you’re in my class? You think I can’t read you like a book, sweetheart?”

He tilted his head, watching as you took in his words. You looked like a deer in headlights, knowing he had figured out your secret. He saw the way your body stiffened at the pet name, your legs pressing together.

“I’ll tell you what,” he started, against his better judgement. “You really want to improve your grade?”

You nodded. He told himself to stop, to kick you out of his office before he put his career in jeopardy. But, God, the look on your face, so eager to hear what he had to say, pretty face flushed with embarrassment, legs squeezed together so tight he thought you might explode.

“Cmere,” he said in a low voice.

You slowly stood, making your way around his desk to stand in front of him. “Tell me, sweetheart,” he growled. “Where does your mind wander to during my class? I want to hear you tell me.”

“To you,” you said softly.

“Cmon, baby, you can do better than that.” He knew he was being a dick, he saw how flustered you were, how you were trying to work up the courage to answer his question. And he loved it.

“To you – to you…”

“To me fucking you?” he helped.

“Yes.” Your eyes were fixed on your hands.

“Look at me and say it.”

Your eyes met his. “My mind wanders to – to you fucking me.”

“Much better. Now, you really want to improve your grade, sweetheart?”

You nodded and he saw the eagerness in your eyes, waiting for him to tell you what to do.

“Then get on your fuckin’ knees.”

He smiled, chuckling as you quickly dropped to your knees in front of his chair, hands getting to work on his belt. He watched your eyes widen as you released him from his dress pants and couldn’t help the feeling of pride that swelled in his chest.

“Something wrong, baby?” he asked, cocky smile spreading across his face. You shook your head. “Then go on.”

He let out a deep groan as you took him into your mouth, placing a hand on the back of your head. He wrapped his hand in your hair, guiding you as his dick hit the back of your throat. “Such a good girl.” He leaned his head back against the chair, savoring the feeling of your head bobbing on his cock.

His looked back down at you, eyes darkening as he saw how eagerly you sucked him off, spit coating your lips, tears welling in your eyes every time you took him down your throat. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little distracted during classes too, picturing you just like this.

He pulled your head back by your hair until you were looking up at him. “Get up here, sweetheart,” he said, motioning to his lap.

You shakily got to your feet before straddling his lap, setting your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. He reached under your skirt, hands gripping your ass. He watched as you began to grind your clothed core on his dick, admiring the desperate look on your face.

“What’s the matter, baby?” he asked, hand slowly wrapping around your throat. “So desperate for me. No one been taking care of this pussy?”

You frantically shook your head, grinding down harder.

“Poor little slut. Take them off. I’ll take good care of you, sweetheart.”

You shifted on his lap, pulling your underwear down your legs and tossing them to the side. He slowly ran a finger through your folds, letting out a low hum. “God, baby, this all for me?” Your answer was cut off by him pushing two fingers inside of you, your words turning to a moan. He slowly pumped his fingers, curling them inside you while your ground down on his hand.

“Poor baby, those college boys don’t know how to make you feel good? You’re so fuckin’ desperate.” You quickly shook your head, too lost in the feeling of him working you to form words. You whined when he pulled his fingers out.

He lined himself up at your entrance, the other hand wrapping around your waist, holding you steady. “Go on, baby. Show me how needy you are.”

You slowly slid yourself down onto his cock, mouth falling open as he stretched you out. His head fell back onto his chair, eyes screwing shut, before quickly opening them again, taking in the sight of you full of his dick. He placed his hands on your hips, keeping you steady as you began to bounce. You quickly picked up the pace, grinding yourself down on him, eyes clouded from pleasure.

Your moans filled his ears, eyes roaming your body as you fucked yourself on his cock.

“God, baby, you look so fuckin’ pretty. Such a good little whore for me, hmm?”

“Yes, yes, just for you, Daddy!” you moaned, before quickly catching yourself. He saw your eyes widen, realizing what you had just said.

He wrapped his strong arm around your waist, standing from his chair, still buried deep inside you, before setting you on his desk. He wrapped a hand around your throat, squeezing slightly and pushing your back down onto the surface. “Say it again.”

“I’m all yours, Daddy,” you said softly.

“That’s fuckin’ right baby.” He set a fast pace, roughly fucking into you, one hand still around your throat, the other gripping your hip so hard he knew it would probably leave marks.

He let out a groan at the sight of you underneath him, skirt bunched around your waist, mouth hanging open, hands gripping his arms. He watched your back arch off the table, squeezing your eyes shut.

He froze, abruptly stopping his thrusts. “Look at me when you cum on my dick, baby. Fuckin’ look at me or I’ll stop again. Understand?”

“Yes sir,” you cried, eyes locked on his.

“Much better.” His fingers found their way to your clit as he continued burying himself in you. “Cum for me baby, show me how much you love my cock.”

Your nails dug into his arm as your legs shook around him, moaning loudly as you reached your high. He felt his own end coming on. He leaned down, his face inches from yours. “Tell me sweetheart, where do you want me to cum?”

“Inside…” was all you could manage, still overcome with pleasure.

He smiled. “You want me to fill you up, baby?” You nodded, begging him to fill you.

His pace faltered as he came, gripping your hips tightly. He let go of you, placing his hands on his desk, catching his breath. He slowly pulled out of you, pulling his pants back up and tossing you your underwear. You carefully sat up, legs still shaking slightly.

He settled himself back in his chair, leaning back and running a hand through his hair. He smirked at you, sitting on his desk, completely undone.

“I suppose I can raise your grade on that paper,” he started. “But I do think we should have weekly tutoring sessions. You obviously need some more help with this.” He smirked at you. “Does that sound good to you?”

You never agreed to something faster in your life.

--

I really liked writing this, if y’all like it I may give you a part 2👀

#mark hoffman x reader #mark hoffman #fanfiction #fanfic #smut #saw #saw franchise

[wintersoldierslover]

my fic recs masterlist

---

Bucky Barnes:

all bucky barnes

headcanon  -  blurb  -  one-shot  -  series

dbf!bucky  -  brothers bff  -  bff’s brother

neighbour  -  housewife reader

lumberjack  -  firefighter  -  bodyguard

priest bucky  -  college

football player  -  hockey player  -  boxer

professor  -  teacher  -  librarian/bookshop

coffee shop  -  soulmate  -  royal

other AUs  -  taboo

---

Stranger Things characters:

all eddie munson - all steve harrington

eddie and steve (x reader)

billy hargrove - jason carver - mike wheeler

dmitri enzo antonov - jim hopper

robin buckley - nancy wheeler

---

Outer Banks Characters:

all Rafe Cameron

all JJ Maybank

Rafe Cameron and JJ Maybank (x reader)

Pope Heyward - Topper Thorton

John B. - Sarah Cameron

Kiara Carrera

---

Marvel characters:

Wanda Maximoff  -   Kate Bishop

Natasha Romanoff  -  Yelena Belova

Peter Parker  -  Pietro Maximoff

Steve Rogers  -  Stephen Strange

Frank Castle  -  Matt Murdock 

Moon knight  -  Steven Grant

Joaqín Torres - Clint Barton

Loki Laufeyson - Druig

Eddie Brock - Miles Morales

Miguel O’hara - Hobie Brown

---

Harry Potter characters:

Sirius Black - Remus Lupin 

James Potter - Poly!Marauders

Lily potter -  Cedric Diggory

George Weasley - Fred Weasley

Severus Snape - Tom Riddle

Draco Malfoy

---

Avatar (James Cameron) charachters:

neteyam - aonung - lo’ak

rotxo - kiri - spider

jake sully - neytiri - tsu’tey

tonowari - ronal - colonel quaritch

---

Top Gun chracters:

Fanboy  -  Hangman  -  Rooster - Bob

Iceman

---

Wednesday characters:

Xavier Thorpe - Ajax Petropolus

Wednesday Addams - Divina

---

Bridgerton characters:

Anthony Bridgerton -  Benedict Bridgerton

Colin Bridgerton

---

Criminal Minds characters:

Spencer Reid  -  Aaron Hotchner

Derek Morgan

---

The Last of Us characters:

Joel Miller - Ellie Williams

Abby Anderson

---

The Devil All The Time characters:

Tommy Matson - Lee Bodecker

---

Uncharted characters:

Nate Drake - Sam Drake

---

Euphoria characters:

Elliot (Euphoria) - Fezco

---

On My Block characters:

Mario Martinez - Oscar Diaz

---

Modern Family characters:

Luke Dunphy - Alex Dunphy

---

Ted Lasso:

Roy Kent - Jamie Tartt

---

NHL players:

Matthew Ktachuk - Trevor Zegras

Nolan Patrick - Tyler Seguin

---

Actors:

Sebastian Stan - Joseph Quinn

Jamie Campbell Bower - Danny Ramirez

Drew Starkey - Rudy Pankow

Ben Hardy - Bella Ramsey

Jenna Ortega

---

Miscellaneous characters:

Eli ‘Hawk’ Moskowitz  -   Marcus Baker

Rodrick Heffley -  Hunter Sylvester

Lloyd Hansen - Ari Levinson

Nick Fowler -  Tangerine

Rhett Abbott - Hayden ‘Harvard Hottie’

Colin (Not Okay) -   Min Ho (Xo, Kitty)

Ash (No Exit) -  James Maguire (Derby Girls)

Jake Peralta - Nick Miller  - Brian O’conner

Anakin Skywalker - Bruno Madrigal

Tadashi Hamada - Kakashi Hatake

---

Miscellaneous real people:

Billie Eilish - AEW Hook

---

*Updated whenever there’s a new character <3

#wintersoldierslover #fic recs #fanfiction #fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader x steve harrington #billy hargrove x reader #jason carver x reader #robin buckley x reader #nancy wheeler x reader #rafe cameron x smut #jj mabank x reader #jj maybank x reader x rafe cameron #wanda maximoff x reader #kate bishop x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #yelena belova x reader #peter parker x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #steve rogers x reader #stephen strange x reader #frank castle x reader #matt murdock x reader #moon knight x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #steven grant x reader #joaquin torres x reader

[tieronecrush]

꒰ა ONLY ANGEL ໒꒱

javier peña x f!reader

chapter one: sweet temptations

series masterlist

rating: E (18+ only, MDNI)

summary: After his return to the US, Javier is trying to settle back into a normal life without the pressures of Colombia and the DEA, but he finds himself feeling isolated with no one to spend his nights with. Now a newly appointed criminology professor at Texas A&M, he is drawn to you, a post-grad student in one of his classes. You’re intelligent and witty, sweet and kind, and he can’t get you out of his mind. To cope with his growing loneliness and to rid himself of thoughts of you, he signs up for an “arrangement service” to connect him with somebody—a sugar baby—he can care for. After he is matched up with Angel, he finds himself developing feelings quicker than he ever expected, but what happens when he finds out Angel is really you?

series warnings: power imbalance (prof and student), sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship, discussion of money, criminal activity, judicial systems, graduate school, smut, daddy/papí kink, praise kink, degradation, self deprecation, discussion of self worth, multiple sexual or romantic partners, sex work, cursing, use of spanish, likely more warning so read at your own risk!

word count: 3.8k

a/n: first chapter AHHHH!!! hope you all love, i am not sure if i am doing a taglist yet cause it’s a lot of work tbh so will keep y’all posted <3 and a special thanks to bestie @northernbluess for helping me with this brainchild and always screaming about javi with me. love ya sister wife <3

“Professor Peña! Welcome back, sir. So glad we have you on for another year,” the voice of the Dean of Faculty, Jim Banks, booms in the empty hallway of the Sociology department, a cramped space on the top floor of one of the, luckily, newer buildings on campus. With a large donation made to the university last year, specifically directed to the Sociology department for their ‘advancements in the field and hiring top talent’, the department was moved out of the basement and into a space that actually saw the sunlight. And had a decent view of the quad, too.

Javier stops in his tracks in the middle of the hall, turning over his shoulder and giving the man approaching behind him a strained, polite smile. He hikes the strap of his chestnut leather messenger bag further onto his shoulder, the itch of his brand new button-down scratching against his skin.

“Dean Banks, good to see you,” he sounds clipped, but Javier has always had a hard time hiding his impatience and annoyance.

“Please, Peña, like I’ve said, call me Jimmy! No need for formalities, buddy.” The dean slaps Javi’s shoulder when he reaches him, and Javier clenches his fist at his side. The whole buddy-buddy Southern thing never roped him in, and certainly not after he was made privy to what a boys’ club the academic world was.

Javier has been a professor for 6 months at Texas A&M University, based at their San Antonio campus, and has taught primarily undergraduate classes for the first semester and summer session that he was on the faculty roster. Hired into the Sociology Department after job-hunting for something to fill his time after retiring. Well, he technically resigned after the nightmare that was Cali, but he negotiated to keep his extremely cushy government pension. Never needed to work another day in his life, but damn he was getting bored. Even his Pop nearly kicked him out to get him to do something other than roaming the field of the ranch and camping out to watch the boats.

Those damn boats.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Dean Ba—Jimmy?” He takes one step back, out from under the man’s hand on his shoulder, and straightens up, grip tightening on the strap of his bag.

“Well, I do gotta favor to ask you, Peña. See, Professor Harrison has had some…extraneous circumstances that have kept him from coming back to the department this semester, and likely next semester. So, I was coming down here to ask if you would be willing to take on his graduate-level course for the semester, and possibly his next semester too. It’s Sociology of Deviance, and by god, you were the first person I thought of to fill in, ya deviant!” Banks gets a good laugh out of his own joke, the effort falling flat for Javier. He waits out the man’s reaction to his own humor, clearing his throat to attempt to egg him on and end the conversation earlier.

“So, what d’ya say, Peña? Think you can manage instructing that course? Syllabus and everything is already planned, just have to have someone actually teach the material and grade everything.”

“Uh, yeah, that would be fine. I’ll check in with Beth at the department’s front desk to get access to Professor Harrison’s material for the course,” he nods to the dean and starts to turn away, ready to retreat to the peace of his private office when Banks’ voice catches his attention again.

“Can’t thank ya enough, Peña. And, uh, try not to get yourself into any of those extraneous circumstances that will be on the class roster, yeah? Don’t want to have to replace you too. We can’t have A&M losing the Big Man on Campus, hey?”

His brows furrow as nods in response, calling out a ‘yes, sir’ as he finally starts toward his office again, stopping at the front desk of the department and requesting the materials for the graduate course, complimenting Beth’s nails with a playful wink.

At the click of his office door, he sighs and sets his bag down on the desk, turning around to face the large window overlooking the campus quad with his hands on his hips.

What the hell kind of extraneous circumstances was Dean Banks getting at? Javier’s a professional, his days of bending the rules in his career are over.

The morning goes by quickly and suddenly it’s two o’clock, fifteen minutes until the new lecture he’s been assigned to instruct. He gathers the syllabi that Beth had dropped off an hour earlier, taking his bag with him as he weaves through students in the halls and slips into the lecture hall, descending the wide stairs at the side of the rows of seats. At the start of every class, he prefers to spend the minutes before gathering his thoughts and laying out everything he needs to get covered. Today’s an easy day, the only goals are to hand out and review the syllabus, and to have the students introduce themselves.

At the prompt time of 2:15 pm, Javier clears his throat and quiets the chit-chatting down, looking up for the first time and meeting a set of eyes that dry his throat immediately. Soft, supple lips are quirked up into a smile, tendrils of short bangs framing her face. Her skin looks like velvet, with baby pink rouge on her cheeks, and a swipe of gloss across her bottom lip. His eyes combed down to her open chest, the scoop-neck baby tee emblemed with some band’s name that he didn’t know. When you smile at him, he feels his heart pound and his cock jump, suddenly grateful for the pretentious podium that he is standing behind.

So those are the extraneous circumstances Dean Banks was getting at.

It was the second semester of your two-year Master's program, and you were honestly excited for the first day of classes. Over the summer session, you had taken a couple of courses to get ahead and worked as a Teaching Assistant for one of your old undergraduate professors. It was about four years ago that you graduated, working in Corporate America before deciding to go back to school and pursue your found passion in Criminal Psychology. The Teaching Assistant job paid pitifully, as you should have expected, so you had turned to an external opportunity that quickly, and easily, became profitable for you and allowed for you to quit TA-ing and focus on your studies for this semester.

The first class of the first day is Sociology of Deviance, a class that is scheduled for Monday and Wednesday afternoons. When you registered for the course, the instructor was listed as “To Be Determined” but as a required credit for your degree, you signed up for this semester anyway.

And holy shit, you’re glad you did.

A few minutes after two o’clock, the lecture hall door opened and slowly shut, the man in a baby blue button-up and tailored slacks stalks down the stairs to your right, headed for the desk in front of the green chalkboards. Underneath the tiny laminate surface that swings out from your chair, you cross your legs and sit up, eyes trained on your professor. His dark hair is clean cut, but not too cropped, swept to the side and up away from his face. A strong, full mustache adorns his upper lip, perfectly groomed along with his clean-shaven, sharp jaw. Wide, expansive shoulders strain under the material of his shirt, the top button near the collar undone and his tie slightly tugged down. The silver belt buckle sitting at his waist glistens in the fluorescent lights, one glance given down his legs and then to his muscular arms when he turns around to write his name on the board.

Professor Peña.

No fucking way, you think to yourself, immediately more engaged than his looks had you. The Javier Peña was teaching one of your courses, a name buzzing around campus over the summer, one that you had read about over and over for the last few years while focusing on the World News section of the paper. The DEA agent not only had a part in taking down Pablo Escobar, but he was also the agent who found and arrested Gilberto Rodriguez, a godfather of the Cali Cartel, and eventually took down the rest of the whole organized crime family.

Finally, someone who actually had some experience with crime outside of a courtroom. 

Uncapping the ballpoint pen laid in front of you, you tap it against your chin as you listen to Professor Peña recount his philosophies in teaching. According to him, he prioritizes ethical and principled practices in the field, noting personal experiences he had with the opposite. You vaguely remember a story from the Miami Herald about his involvement with Los Pepes during Escobar, and you could never forget reading about the corruption of not only the Colombian government but the US government during the Cali days. That case — that scandal that he exposed was a big reason you dove back into criminology. You wanted to be a person who would better it for the people under the jurisdictions of the judicial system, as naive as it may sound.

A thick, stapled stack of packets gets dropped onto your desk, eyesight zoning back in to look to your side and face your professor standing next to your chair. He gives a tight smile, nodding his head to your left.

“Please pass these down that way after you take one for yourself.”

Even from that simple statement, his deep, raspy voice has you sucking your teeth, shaking your head to yourself as you pass on the stack of syllabi, and turning your attention to the outline of the semester. As you study the required readings, Professor Peña returns to the front. Another clearing of his throat turns your eyes up, sitting up straight again as you watch him lean back against his desk, crossing his arms over his chest.

“At the beginning of each semester, I like to have everyone go around and introduce themselves. Now, I know you’re all adults and probably don’t want to do this, but it helps me to remember you when I’m grading all your shit,” he gives a closed smile to the room as a rumble of gentle laughter erupts and quickly fades.

“Anyone want to volunteer to go first?” Professor Peña scans the room, interrupted by a brunette guy that looks to be around your age, an eager smile on his face.

“I’ll go first, Professor. My name’s Alex, I’m in the first semester of my first year of law school. Planning to focus on Criminal Law. I went to UT Austin for undergrad. Go Longhorns!” The exclamation gets some applause, you note the lack of reaction from Professor Peña and smiling to yourself.

Thank god he isn’t one of those insufferable college sports obsessed men.

A handful more of your classmates take their turns, and you politely pay attention to each of them, but unable to shake the feeling of eyes on you. One glance toward the front and you catch Professor Peña’s eyes, darting away toward the student speaking and his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard.

If you could read his mind right now, you surely would be dropping the class. Javier can’t seem to keep his eyes off of you, entranced by every angle of your face that he’s given, your head turning to face each of your classmates as they speak. It’s endearing how engaged you seem in learning about your peers, and it snaps him out of the daze for a moment when he realizes that he is really the one that needs to be paying attention to the names being spoken.

The only reprieve he seems to get is when you take your turn to introduce yourself, giving your name to the room and each detail you offer, he automatically categorizes into his brain to remember. In those thirty seconds that you are solely speaking, his gaze is trained on you, watching the pout of your glossy lips as they move together and apart, your tongue hitting behind your teeth and the softly shadowed eyelids that crinkle at the sides when you smile. Something you’ve said makes you laugh a bit, the sound ringing in his ears and pumping his heart faster.

The focus moves from you to the next student to volunteer, but Javier can’t help the lingering of his eyes across your collarbone, sloped shoulder and pen bouncing in between your fingers.

Enamored. Infatuated. Bewitched, even.

God, he shouldn’t be thinking about his student this way. 

But you are so fucking gorgeous. And clearly kind, with the way you focus on everyone speaking, gentle smiles given to everyone. You have to be intelligent, pursuing a Master’s degree. And you seem so delicate, so sweet.

What do you taste like?

Nope, not going there Javier. Sure, he’s lonely, but with a student? After another professor just got caught with one, allegedly?

Before he knows it, every student has given their name and random facts about themselves, and he can finally turn his back to the room to begin writing out the required, upcoming assignments and go over the material that will be covered over the next few months. In the blink of an eye, class is wrapping up and he lets out a long exhale, longing for about two fingers of the whiskey that is sitting in the bottom drawer of his desk.

He leans over the table in front of him, shuffling the extra syllabi together and organizing them into his briefcase while the students funnel out of the lecture hall. Brows furrowed, he sighs when he hears footsteps approaching, glancing up to see that little band t-shirt he noticed before, now the view of a dark evergreen, black, and hints of yellow plaid and pleated skirt with legs extending from the mid-thigh hem, and suddenly he’s standing up a bit too quickly to acknowledge your approach.

“Excuse me, Professor Peña?” you ask, saccharine and well-mannered.

“How can I help you?” he responds, not managing to hold back the grin that ticks up one side of his mouth.

“I wanted to properly introduce myself to you,” you give him your name with your hand stretched out, “I know it sounds kiss-ass, but I am really excited to be able to take a course from you. It’s cool to have a non-lawyer professor in criminology courses.”

“I appreciate that,” he slips his palm against your outstretched hand, shaking it and noting your firm handshake, “Hopefully, I live up to your expectations as a professor. Not sure if I will have as good of a grip on the material as Professor Harrison would’ve, this is my first time teaching this class.”

You drop his hand and wave off his concern, a smile still plastered on your face. It’s not forced, by any means, he can see it’s a genuine expression which has his insides stirring again.

“I’m sure you will exceed expectations, especially if the reviews from my graduate cohort have told me anything.” The statement is punctuated with a faint laugh, echoed by Javi as he tilts his head in questioning.

“Glad to hear that I am… well-liked?”

���You could say that, Professor Peña,” you raise your eyebrows with a curl of your lips, nodding slowly, “Well, I should let you get back to your office. Looking forward to the semester.”

“Nice to meet you,” he repeats your name, “And be sure to read your syllabus.”

You turn around as you climb up the stairs of the lecture hall, wide smile, “Oh, I always do my homework, Professor Peña. You don’t have to worry about me.”

Luckily during syllabus week, Javier’s workload is light enough to stay on top of his emails and be able to plan ahead for the next few weeks when things will start to ramp up and assignments will be due.

In his office the next morning, he’s in the midst of slowly working through his short to-do list before his class at one o’clock. With a familiar chime from the clunky machinery on his desk, he turns to the screen and clicks open the tab with his university email address. A new message is in his inbox, one from a student. He starts to skim the message to look for questions asked, thinking to himself as he shakes his head with a disbelieving scoff.

A student already emailing? It’s the first fucking week, c’mon kid, let up and have a little fun during syllabus w—

Oh, wait, it’s you. From his graduate course yesterday afternoon. The student off to the left, with the sweet smile and doe eyes, tight t-shirt and juicy lips.

What would they look like around him?

Jesus Christ, Javier. Get your shit together. A student. That is what you are, and all that you can be.

At least until you graduate.

Shut up, Peña!

He argues back and forth with himself, the angel and devil on his shoulders both making convincing arguments. Physically shaking himself out of the thoughts, he focuses back on your actual message, fully reading it now and chuckling to himself when it’s simply a message about a mistake in the syllabus.

One of the readings is listed with the wrong author, but of course, with how amiable and courteous you are, it’s phrased as a question rather than flat out telling him it’s wrong. Something along the lines of “Sorry Professor, but did I get this wrong…”

He’s not offended, he didn’t write the syllabus, and even if he did, he still would feel no qualms about being corrected where it was due.

There’s a flash of something in his chest, the smallest bit of anger when he thinks about you drafting this email to him, likely nervous you’d get a shitty response back. He knows the type of shit his colleagues say to their female students, and it grates on him every time. Typing up a reply to you, he answers the question concisely. The cursor blinks for a minute on the screen, deciding whether or not to finish off the message with some words of encouragement or not.

Quickly, he adds ‘And please, feel free to correct me if I’m wrong. Clearly you know your stuff, and I could use some help with navigating this new course.’ Adding his signature, he hits send before he can give it another thought.

Exiting out of the window, an ad pops up onto his desktop. Javier moves his mouse to hover over the ‘X’ button, the baby pink banner catching his attention.

Sweet Temptations.

Curiosity gets the best of him and he clicks through to the website, licking his lips when he’s greeted with a logo design that features the silhouette of a woman as the ‘T’.

Javier is lonely.

He moved away from Laredo, where his father resides on the family ranch, the only familiar piece of the US that he was eager to return to. That excitement for the slow life burned out quickly, angst settling in and keeping him on edge — those damn boats.

Chucho encouraged the move, the job, the lifestyle change. Something busier to keep his mind and body occupied, left active enough to forget about the news from over the border, the runs happening right behind his family’s land.

Sure, Laredo is a short drive away, but the distance from family and the few friends he has at home, plus no informants to spend his evenings with, Javier has become decidedly lonely. And these days, he is open to any means of companionship.

For a few minutes, Javi pokes around the site, reading about the matching process for men “seeking arrangements” that “avoid the complications of traditional dating”.

From what he can gather, it’s a place to find a sugar baby. And as a man who was — honestly is supportive of sex work (if this even counts as sex work?), he isn’t above paying for an arrangement that will work for him. Traditional dating hasn’t given him much luck, too many expectations put on him upfront, and too big of a jump to be made that he isn’t quite adjusted for. 

All of this logic is leading him to the sign up tab, filling out his information. He creates a new email address for this purpose, choosing a simple ‘[email protected]’. The rest of the form is a simple questionnaire, looking to get the gist of what he’s looking for out of this arrangement and what kind of woman he typically goes for.

He hovers over one question: ‘Are you looking for a relationship that will be sexually active?’. It’s a check of ‘yes’ or ‘no’, and suddenly the back of his neck is burning with a hint of shame as he selects ‘yes’.

After the rest of it is answered, he submits it.

If this goes nowhere, hey, at least he tried.

In the exact same spot a week later, Javier is slumped in his chair at his large desk, the sleeves of his button up rolled up to expose his forearms as he does the reading for his own class, preparation for Sociology of Deviance tomorrow afternoon.

Last week, at the second meeting of the cohort, he was impressed by your analysis of the first reading assignment, joking with you after you hit all the key points that ‘you could come up here and teach and give him a break’. That same jolt of energy from last Monday passed through him when you smiled bashfully at him, actively listening for the rest of the lecture. Before he could pull you to compliment you again, you were up the stairs and out the door, a tiny piece of notebook paper left behind. He stalks up to the desk you were at, picking up the scrap and grinning to himself when he sees a doodle of yours. It’s him, it has to be with the prominent ‘stache and eyebrows, his characteristically accurate head floating on the page. He tucks the drawing into his pocket and leaves for the day, stowing the art piece in the top drawer of his desk.

Today, he flicks the paper around in between his fingers, studying the fluid line work when his computer sings again with an incoming email. With nothing in his work inbox, he checks his new personal one, greeted with an excitable subject line:

YOU’VE GOT A MATCH!

JaviP & TheOnlyAngel

tagging some peeps that requested it but not sure if i will have a taglist for this series lol: @northernbluess @swiftispunk @joelsversion @mrsquill @yazsos @cartoon-garbage04 @sugadolly @ilovepedro @lovers-liability @deathwife @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @undrthelights @atticrissfinch @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

#javier #writing #only angel #javier peña x reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña smut #javier peña series #javier peña fic #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña fanfic #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fic #javier pena x female reader #javier pena series #javier pena x reader #javier pena x f!reader #javier pena smut

[lucyswinter]

Request guidelines

Requests are : OPEN<3

Masterlist

Who/what I write for:

-Cillian Murphy/ characters: (Jackson Rippner, Tom Shelby, Neil Lewis, Jonathan Crane, Kitten Braden, Jim: 28 days later, Emmett: a quiet place part II, Raymond Leon, Robert Fischer, Tom Buckley)

-Criminal Minds: Spencer Reid, Aaron Hotchner, Derek Morgan, Emily Prentiss, Penelope Garcia, JJ,

-The Bear: Sydney Adamu, Richie Jerimovich, Carmen Berzatto, Sugar Berzatto

-Saw: Lawrence Gordon, Adam Stanheight, Mark Hoffman, Peter Strahm, Amanda Young, Jill Tuck, Lynn Denlon (for ships: I’ll do chainshipping, coffinshipping, and shotgunshipping/lynnmanda!)

-American Horror Story (All seasons up to Cult. Only ships if they are canon (by season, I mean)! i.e: I won’t do Kit Walker (s2) x Madison Montgomery (s3) or anything)!

-Nip/Tuck: Sean McNamara, Christian Troy, Matt McNamara, Julie McNamara, Liz Cruz, Eden Lord

-DC villains (from the Nolan trilogy or Gotham tv show! I will specify from which one I mean. I’ll also write Batman but that’s the only hero)

-Peaky blinders: Luca Changretta, Tom Shelby, Alfie Solomons, Finn Shelby, John Shelby, Arthur Shelby, Oswald Mosley

-Top Gun/ Top Gun: Maverick: any characters! (For ships, I only rlly know IceMav 😭 but I’m open to others! I’ll also do penny!reader)

-Bridgerton/ Queen Charolette: Daphne x Simon, George x Charolette, Anthony x Kate, Colin x Penelope (and all of these characters individually!)

-Community: Professor Ian Duncan, Jeff Winger, Abed Nadir, Britta Perry , Annie Edison, Troy Barnes

-Impractical Jokers: Joe Gatto, Sal Vulcano, James Murray, Brian Quinn

-Supernatural: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel, Destiel (will not do Wincest or Wincestiel)

-X-files: Fox Mulder, Dana Scully, MSR

-BBC Sherlock (only JohnLock)

-Good omens (only Ineffable husbands)

-Hannibal (only Hannigram)

(Any other characters im open to! Just PM me to see if I know the fandom/media they’re in, or rec with a few options! I’ll ignore if I don’t know them <;3)

I will write: A bit ooc (depends on scenario 🤭), fluff, smut, small-ish age gap, AU’s, non romantic pairings, alternate endings, fem!/gn!/afab!reader, character x reader, character x character

I won’t write: Male!/nonbinary!/trans!reader (im a cis female so I will write gender neutral reader if requested, but most fics (unless specified) were written with a fem reader in mind :)), incest, underage reader (or character), dub/non-con

Thanks for reading! Feel free to PM requests if you aren���t comfortable sending them through the question button or want to work through the request :)

#fanfic guidlines

[mysteriouslover1516]

Sherlock Holmes (Part 1)

(X-reader story based on the BBC version of Sherlock and characters [character name is chosen, but the pronoun you is used]. This is my take on what could happen in season five of Sherlock. I also shipped John and Molly in this version.)

"You have a sister?!" The tall man asks, completely astonished.

Your brother, John Watson, laughs. "Caught you there, didn't I?"

The man looks at you from under his black curly hair, and his blue eyes meet yours. "He has a sister!" He states.

You chuckle while blushing slightly, "Yes, I would know. I am Syrena Watson, the younger sister of John by three years."

"How did I not deduct this?!" The man shakes his head with a smile.

John clears his throat, "Shouldn't you introduce yourself now?" He says giving the man a meaningful stare.

"Sherlock Holmes," he says. "What brings you back to London?"

You feel your heart rate rise,"I'm getting away from a bad relationship."

"Your eyes hold a certain sense of sorrow in them, betrayal perhaps? And I can't help but notice your clothes have been repeatedly worn, meaning you left as soon as you could without any other supplies or belongings." Sherlock says and then looks away as if bored.

John sighs, "Sherlock, I warned you about this. She is still sensitive about this." He says as he wraps an arm protectively around you.

You try to smile, "Wow, Mr. Holmes. You certainly live up to your reputation of being a great detective." 

John was right, you still were hurt and frightened in a way about your break-up, but you hated letting people besides your brother see your emotions.

Sherlock sighs, "I tried my best, John. But so long has gone by before I could deduct something worthwhile, besides the butler who murdered the maid." He shrugs absent-mindly.

“Sherlock!” John reprimands. “What did I tell you?”

“You solved a murder?” You ask, stupidly.

Sherlock sighs, “How dull is your sister, John? She is almost as bad as you.”

John frowns, “Please try to be civil!”

“Mr. Sherlock, tell me more about the case.” You ask, anything about mysteries was interesting to you. You were a novelist and real life mysteries were always good inspiration for your books.

Sherlock stops, “Oh, great. Another blogger, are you going to over dramatize my work, too?”

“That’s it, come on, Syrena.” John scowls at Sherlock. “We don't have to listen to his degrading comments.”

You smirk and walk off, arm in arm with your brother, “He doesn't seem all that bad.”

John smiles, “You haven’t had to spend twenty-four hours with him.”

“Mom and dad send you their hellos,” You say, randomly.

Your parents lived in the United States and tried to come to London at least once a year to see John. Now both of their kids were gonna be living here. Your parents were sad you decided to leave the states, but they were glad that John and you would be there to look out for one another.

John smiles at the thought, both of you were extremely close to your parents and you loved them dearly. “I mean to call them more often, gosh I’m forgetful.” He berates himself.

“They understand you’re busy, John. Maybe we can call them tonight, maybe even on skype?”

“Great idea!” John smiles, then he wraps his arm over your shoulders. “I’m so glad you’re here, Syrena. I’ve missed you so much.”

“Thanks for letting me move in with you.” You grin.

John’s face suddenly falls, “Um, Syrena, there’s something I forgot to tell you.”

“Oh?” You ask in a slightly suspicious tone.

“I live in a flat with another roommate.”

“Is there enough room for me then?” You ask, confused.

“Well, of course, but he doesn’t know you’re staying with us. I haven’t told him yet.” John smiles, sheepishly.

“Is he nice though?” You raise an eyebrow, unsure of why John was being so mysterious.

“I think you should decide that yourself. You already met him.”

You immediately rack your mind for all the new faces you’ve seen and the people behind them. Was it the worker at the coffee shop? John had called him by name and the man seemed friendly. The cab driver also was nice though and John had talked to him almost the whole way to where you met Sherlock in the park……..

“It’s Sherlock,” You state more than ask.

“Please don’t hurt me,” John teases as he hides his face behind his arms.

You crack a smile, “Well, at least I’ll have some inspiration for my mystery novel!”

John laughs and drops his hands to his sides, “Just don’t copy my blog. I have a lot of followers on it, but Sherlock doesn’t approve.” He rolls his eyes.

“You haven’t told him that I’m moving in with you?!” You ask with your mouth wide open from shock.

John shrugs, “He won’t mind. There are three rooms and the third one is rarely used.”

You shake your head at your brother, “Oh, John. I hope this works out.”

You and John head over to 221b Baker Street and John leads you up the staircase and to an apartment door. “Welcome to our flat!” He unlocks the door and pushes it open.

You walk inside, carrying the backpack that held the only possessions you brought.

The living room was the first room you walked into when you came in. On the right was a hallway leading to four rooms. Three of them had the doors shut and the fourth one you guessed to be the bathroom, and you were correct. On the left was a wide rectangular arch that opened into the kitchen area. The living room had two windows that let in the sunshine that showered on a desk full of papers and files. Two chairs were arranged in front of the fireplace and the shelves surrounding it were full of books and decorative objects.

“Wow,” You say. “It’s actually pretty spacious.”

“Yep, here’s your room, Syrena.” John says, walking over to the first room down the hall.

You followed him and looked into your new living quarters. The walls were a nice blue color and a bed was pushed against the wall. A nightstand stood on the right side of the bed and a lamp was set upon it. A comfortable chair was in another corner, along with a desk. On the bed were some pillows and a green comforter. Propped against the pillows was a concert-sized ukulele.

“You didn’t bring your ukulele,” John says sorta sadly. “Luckily I have mine. You can have it.”

You smile happily, but sadly at the same time. Your old boyfriend had broken your ukulele out of anger, and that's why you didn't bring it, but you didn't tell John that. "Thanks so much, I seem to find some sort of peace when I play." You try to laugh, but the memory holds you back.

“Sherlock does too, he’s a violinist.” John offers. “Maybe you two could play together sometime.”

You laugh at the absurdity of the thought, “He doesn’t seem like one who would do that. I think he prefers to be alone.”

“Oh, he does. I just think that you’ll be able to snap him out of his cold demeanor.” John smiles hopefully.

"Why me?" You look at your brother playfully.

"You'll see," John smirks. "Oh, I think you and Mrs. Hudson should meet. I think she'll like you well enough.”

“Who’s she?”

“I’m not your housekeeper,” an elderly voice calls from the outside of the door.

“Mrs. Hudson, come on in!” John calls out cheerfully.

The door opens and an old lady with short, curly, light brown hair walks in.

“How long were you eavesdropping?” John asks with a smirk.

“Only long enough to know you were talking about me, dearie.” The woman says.

“Mrs. Hudson?” You hold out your hand and smile.

“Syrena Watson?” She asks and instead gives you a hug.

“She knows that I’m staying here, John, but not Sherlock!” You turn to him.

John winces, “Relax, Syrena, he’ll be fine.”

You shake your head and cross your fingers that John will be right.

You and Mrs. Hudson get to know each other over cups of tea and biscuits and before you know it you are giggling so hard that you feel like you’re gonna cry.

“What is that, John?” You hear Sherlock’s voice come from the doorway.

“It is Mrs. Hudson and Syrena laughing.” John answers, smiling.

“They sound like they are torturing an owl,” Sherlock’s voice holds a tone of annoyance. He walks into the dining room/ kitchen and barely glances at you. “When is she going?”

“I’m leaving in a few minutes, Sherlock.” Mrs. Hudson looks up from her cup of tea.

“Not you, her. She is ruining my concentration.” Sherlock states simply as he opens the fridge.

“Pardon me?” You ask.

“When is she leaving?” He turns to John, expecting an answer.

“She is staying with us,” John states.

“When is she leaving to stay somewhere for the night?”

“She is living with us.” John clarifies. “And she has a name, her name is Syrena.”

“Silena can not stay with us, she is too distracting, more difficult than you even.” Sherlock says, nonchalantly.

“Excuse me, Mr. Holmes, I understand if you want me to go, I can find a small apartment of my own.” You say, not even bothering to correct Sherlock's mistake.

"No, Syrena, you are staying with us!" John says exasperated, "Sherlock! Her name is Syrena, and she is not going to live somewhere else!"

“Thank you,” Sherlock says, completely ignoring John. “Now you should be going, I have a case to solve. Goodbye, wait, why are you still here?” His eyes meet yours finally and he looks at you expectantly,  “Goodbye,” he says more slowly like you are dumb.

“No, Syrena. You are staying with us.” John glares at Sherlock, “She is staying with us, for gosh sakes, Sherlock, she is my sister!”.

“She is not staying!” Sherlock argues.

“She can stay with me until she finds an apartment, John?”  Mrs. Hudson offers. “Thank you, Mrs. Hudson, but Sherlock is going to have to deal with this, he is not going to control how I take care of my sister!” John raises his voice.

Sherlock sighs, “Fine, you win. But she must know that she is not allowed to play loud music, laugh so much, in fact I would prefer if she stayed absolutely silent.”

Mrs. Hudson, who is now standing next to the door, gives Sherlock a disapproving face, “Now Sherlock-”

“Shouldn’t you be going now, Mrs. Hudson, oh is that the downstairs door? Goodbye!” He pratically pushes her out the door and slams it behind her.

“John, where is my file? Nevermind, I’ll get it myself. Shush, don’t breathe so loudly, I wouldn’t be surprised if the whole street heard you! Now be quiet, I need to enter my mind palace.”

“His what?” You whisper to John as Sherlock sits in a chair, cross-legged, hands held up to his face, fingertips touching, and eyes closed.

“A normal person would call it his brain,” John says.

“QUIET, I am thinking!” Sherlock says, still in the same position as before.

You yank on John’s hand and pull him into your room, shutting the door behind you guys. “I don’t think this will work, John. I think I should find somewhere else to live.” You smile sadly, you had looked forward to staying with your brother, but now it seemed like it wouldn’t work.

John sighs, "Syrena, if you want to get away from Sherlock's degrading comments, I understand. But if you do, let me find a flat for us to share, just the two of us. I promised you a place to stay, and I'm not going to let my sister live in an unfamiliar place if I can be with her and help her adjust."

You laugh, "You certainly are a different sort of brother, most brothers would want to push their little sister away and ignore them."

John shrugs with a smile, "I don't have many friends, so that makes me lonely too."

"No friends at all?" You ask, surprised.

"Well, Mrs. Hudson and Molly Cooper are acquaintances and I like them, they are good people. But I have only one real friend here, and as surprising as it is, it's Sherlock."

You laugh again, "You act annoyed with him all the time, though."

"Trust me, he is annoying and irritating, but fascinating at the same time. He helps prevent my life from being boring with all the cases we run around to solve."

"Do you think he'll let me come along?" You ask.

John smiles, "Sure, all you have to do is bat your eyelashes and give him your best puppy dog eyes, then-"

You wack him in the head, "You're so evil! You know I don't do that and besides, that would never work on him!"

John laughs, "It was worth a shot. But I think he'll be open to letting you come along at least once, he is a show off."

You think for a second then say, "Ok, I'll stay here. But if Sherlock gets too irritated, I'm leaving!" You joke.

John smiles, "That's the spirit, now we have to go meet Molly."

"When? And who's that?"

"Right now! I promised that we'd meet her for dinner." John says, getting up from the bed.

"Are you two dating or something?" You ask, quizzically.

John laughs, "No, she actually secretly likes Sherlock. But she is a kind person and I think you'll like her."

“Why would she like him?” You ask, you weren’t trying to be rude, but it came out like that.

“He may seem cold and standoffish, but he is a good guy.”

“Not as good as you,” You smile cheekily.

John smirks, “Hurry up and get ready. We have to meet her in fifteen minutes.” He leaves and shuts the door behind him.

You sigh and plop onto your bed, there wasn’t much to do to get ready. You pulled out the only other clean outfit you had brought, it was some dark blue jeans and a basic green colored shirt.

After putting the outfit on, you brush your hair and decide to leave it down instead of putting it in a ponytail.

“You ready, Syrena?” John knocks on your door.

“Mhmm,” You nod and open the door. “Ready!” John looks at your choice of clothes, “Hmmm, Molly will know some good places for clothes shopping here.”

You look at your appearance, then back at John. “You think I look terrible?” John laughs, “No, you look beautiful as always. I just know how a girl thinks and that you’d want to go shopping soon and I’d rather not accompany you.” You roll your eyes and smirk, “I see how it is.”

“We should probably be leaving now or we’ll be late,” He said looking at his watch.

The two of you walk out to the livingroom and you are surprised to see Sherlock in the same position as you left him.

“We’ll be back later, Sherlock.” John calls and shakes his head in annoyance as he receives no reply or even an indication that he was heard.

“Bye,” You say as you follow John out the door, little did you know that at your voice Sherlock opened his eyes slightly and watched you as you left, a small smile on his face.

John waves a taxi down and you two get in and John gives the cabbie the destination place.

When you arrive at the small cafe, John leads you to a table where a woman who looks to be a year or two older than you is sitting.

The woman is wearing a reddish-pink blouse and white pants, her long brown hair is in a style where a braid runs from one side of her head over the top to the other. She smiles as she recognizes John and stands up when you near the table. “Hello, I am Molly Cooper. John has told me so much about you!”

You laugh, “Good things I hope?”

Molly chuckles as you sit down next to her, “Absolutely, he practically adores you.”

John hides his face in his hands, “Molly…...don’t, just don’t.”

Molly laughs, “He has told me lots about you, I’m sure he’s happy that you moved here. I am too, there’s not a lot of interesting people here to hang out with besides your brother, Sherlock, and Greg.”

“My brother, interesting?” You smile mischievously at your brother.

John groans, “I’m thinking I shouldn’t have even come now.” A waiter comes to your table and you take John and Molly’s advice of ordering the cheeseburger, fries, and shake combo.

“You won’t regret it,” John promises, “this is one of the best meals here.”

Molly smirks, “He basically eats this every Tuesday.”

“Every Tuesday?” You inquire.

John clears his throat, “We always have dinner together on Tuesdays, Sherlock comes every so often, but he usually just dampers the mood.” He chuckles.

You nod, quietly taking in all the information and forming conclusions in your head.

The waiter comes back bringing you all your meals and shakes, a caramel one for Molly, chocolate for John, and strawberry for you.

The rest of the evening goes by in a blur full of laughter and lots of teasing concerning your poor brother.

“It was so nice meeting you,” You smile at your newfound friend.

Molly nods, “Clothes shopping tomorrow then, say around two?”

You laugh, “I don’t really have anything else to do. Do you approve of me going, John?”

John sighs and shakes his head, “You brought out the worst in her, Molly!”

Molly only laughs then hails a cab and says goodbye, a second later she is gone.

“Want me to get a taxi or want to walk home?” John asks, “It’s not a very far walk and it is fairly warm.”

“Let’s walk, I need the exercise.” You laugh and put your arm through John's.

John smiles and then sobers, "Syrena?"

"Yeah?" You ask.

"What happened back in the states?" He asks quietly.

You sigh, you knew he was gonna ask one day about your ex, but you were never gonna be prepared for the question.

John notes your hesitancy and quickly says, “You can tell me when you’re ready, I know it still hurts, but I’m here for you whenever you are ready to talk about it.” He gives you a smile and then asks as casually as he can, “What did you think of Molly?”

You quickly look up at him, giving him a cheesy smile. "Is my brother in love?"

John playfully pushes you away, "Sisters, so presumptuous."

You laugh, "Brothers, so obvious all the time about who they like."

John drags his hand over his face and gives you the funniest, tired expression you had ever seen. "Ok, but for reals. Do you like her?"

“She seems sweet,” You say thoughtfully. “Sweet but sad, she seems like she’s hiding slightly, like she’s insecure. I do like her, John. But why does my opinion matter on this? If you like her, go for it!”

“I can’t,” John sighs, “she’s in love with Sherlock.”

You laugh, “Don’t get all depressed on me now. Keep up the good faith, don’t lose hope!”

You two make it back to Baker Street and quickly run up the stairs.

“Watcha want to bet Sherlock is still in the same position as we left him?” John smirks as he puts his hand on the door knob.

“Really?” You ask, totally thinking your brother is being overdramatic.

John pushes the door open and sure enough, there is Sherlock in his chair, cross-legged, fingertips in front of his face touching, and eyes closed. “Told you.”

Sherlock opens one eye and gives you two a quizzical look, then he resumes exploring his mind palace.

“He’s really extreme,” John informs you, like you haven't already figured it out.

Sherlock gets up and says, “Get your adjectives right, John. I am not extreme, a psychopath, or whatever else people label me. I am a high functioning sociopath.”

“Like I said, he’s extreme.” John crosses his arms. “Figure anything out yet concerning the case?”

Sherlock ignores him, walks into the kitchen and then pours himself a cup of tea. “What is it like inside your funny little brains? It must be so boring.”

You laugh at him, then realize it wasn’t a joke, Sherlock had honestly insulted you, again.

“Mine’s like an engine, racing out of control. A rocket tearing itself to pieces, trapped on a launching pad.” Sherlock says.

“Not again,” John sighs, “I’ve heard this before.”

“Of course you have, John! Your tiny little brain can only grasp the real meaning though, how I truly feel.” Sherlock glares.

“My mind is like a cat spying on its prey, then the cat gets hit by a lightning strike and gets fried.” John mocks him, clearly improvising on what to say.

“That doesn’t even make sense, John. You’re such an idiot.” Sherlock slurps his tea.

John gives him a face and Sherlock sighs and pulls the cup away from his lips.

“Don’t look like that, practically everyone is an idiot."

"At least other people are more sensitive," you mumble. You usually were a cool and collected person, but now Sherlock was starting to annoy you with his constant degrading comments.

"Did that thing say something?" Sherlock says calmly, referring to you as a thing.

You frown and say in a low voice, "Goodnight," and then head to your room, shutting the door behind you.

You sit down in the chair and eagerly grab the ukulele. You knew Sherlock would be annoyed, but part of you wanted to annoy him now.

You smile at the familiar feel of your fingers pressed against the ukulele strings and you happily use your thumb to strum a G chord. You start to think about what to play and suddenly your fingers start to play the familiar and somewhat sweet, longing tune of Edelweiss.

"You play beautifully." you hear a voice say and you jump and look up at your brother who was standing amused against your doorframe.

"Gosh dang it, John. Don't sneak up on me like that." You shake your head with a smile and randomly pluck a few strings.

John laughs, "Sorry about, well, you know who. He is a bit of a jerk."

"A bit?" You smirk.

"Fine, a lot of a jerk. But he'll come around soon, he's not so bad once you get to know him."

“Promise?” You ask dramatically.

“Cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye.” John recites, it was one of the things that he always used to say to reassure you when you were kids.

You laugh and then lean your head on John’s shoulder, “Thanks for being such a good brother.”

“No problem,” John says, then rips the ukulele out of your hands and starts playing really badly.

You giggle and steal the ukulele back, “Watch and learn,” you tease.

Hey lovelies ;) I started this story a few years ago, I hope some of you can appreciate it still, lol. Depending on how many reviews and likes I get, I might post more in this series. Thank you for giving me a chance!

#sherlock #sherlock holmes #bbc sherlock #bbc sherlock fanfiction #bbc sherlock fandom #bbc sherlock imagine #sherlock community #sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock x you #sherlock x you #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes x you #sherlock fandom #john watson #molly hooper #mycroft holmes #eurus holmes #jim moriarty #professor moriarty #james moriarty #sherlock fanfiction #sherlock holmes fandom #benedict cumberbatch

[theyraylovehate]

Wheel of Fan Fiction Masterlist

Smut 🔥

Fluff 🌸

Angst 💧

*This is like brand new so most of the characters won't have anything just yet*

•Stranger things

-Billy Hargrove

-Steve Harrington

-Eddie Munson

-Robin Buckley (Fem/NB only)

-Argyle

-Johnathan Byers

-Nancy Wheeler

-Jim Hopper

-Joyce Byers

-001/Henry

-Will Byers (No smut)

-Mike Wheeler (No smut)

-Max Mayfield (No smut)

Hateful Cuddling - Female reader 🌸

-Dustin Henderson (No smut)

-Lucas Sinclair (No smut)

-Eleven (Jane) Hopper (No smut)

•Marvel

-Iron Man/Tony Stark

-Captian America/Steve Rogers

-Black Widow/Natasha Romanoff

-Hawkeye/Clint Barton

-Hulk/Bruce Banner

-Thor

-Loki

-Winter Soldier/Bucky Barnes

-Black Panther/T'challa

-Doctor Strange/Steven Strange

-Scarlet Witch/Wanda Maximoff

-Quicksilver/Pietro Maximoff

-Starlord/Peter Quill

-Gamora

-Spiderman/Peter Parker

-Falcon/Sam Wilson

-War Machine/James Rhodes

-Valkyrie (Fem/NB only)

•X-Men

-Professor X/Charles Xavier

-Magneto/Erik Lensherr

-Wolverine/James Howlett

-Quicksilver/Peter Maximoff

-Rogue

-Jean Grey

-Storm/Ororo Munroe

-Cyclops/Scott Summers

-Mystique/Raven

-Beast/Henry "Hank" McCoy

-Nightcrawler/Kurt Wagner

-Havok/Alexander Summers

•DC/Young Justice

-Batman/Bruce Wayne

-Superman/Clark Kent

-The Flash/Barry Allen

-Aquaman/Authur Curry

-Cyborg/Victor Stone

-Joker/Jack Oswald White

-Harley Quinn/Harleen Quinzel

-Wonder Woman/Diana Prince

-DeadShot/Floyd Lawton

-Kid Flash/Wally West

-Nightwing (Robin #1)/ Dick Grayson

-Red Hood (Robin #2)/ Jason Todd

-Robin (#3)/ Tim Drake

-Beast Boy/Garfield Logan

-Superboy/Johnathan "Jon" Kent

-Artemis/Artemis Crock

-Red Arrow/Roy Harper

-Green Arrow/Oliver Queen

-Black Canary/Dinah Lance

-Miss Martian/Megan Morse

-Aqualad/Kaldur'ahm

•Umbrella Academy

-Luther Hargreeves (#1)

-Diego Hargreeves (#2)

-Allison Hargreeves (#3)

-Klaus Hargreeves (#4)

-Five Hargreeves (#5)

-Ben Hargreeves (#6)

-Viktor Hargreeves (#7)

-Marcus Hargreeves (#1)

-Fei Hargreeves (#3)

-Alphonso Hargreeves (#4)

-Sloan Hargreeves (#5)

-Jayme Hargreeves (#6)

-Lila Aryu

-The Handler

•Harry Potter

-Harry Potter

-Ron Weasley

-Hermione Granger

-Fred Weasley

-George Weasley

-Ginny Weasley

-Draco Malfoy

-Sirius Black (Older)

-Cedric Diggory

-Oliver Wood

-Neville Longbottom

-Luna Lovegood

-Remus Lupin (Older)

-Nymphadora Tonks

-Lucious Malfoy (Older)

-Narcissa Malfoy (Older)

-Severus Snape (Older)

-Bill Weasley

-Charlie Weasley

•Marauders

-James Potter

Friendly Love - Male reader 🌸

-Lily Evans

-Sirius Black

-Remus Lupin

-Severus Snape

-Regulus Black

-Lusious Malfoy

-Narcissa Black

-Peter Pettigrew

•Greek Mythology

-Zeus

-Hades

-Posideon

-Apollo

-Hera

-Persephone

-Ares

-Athena

-Demeter

-Aphrodite

-Artemis

-Dionysus

-Hermes

•Divergent

-Beatrice "Tris" Prior

-Caleb Prior

-Eric

-Peter

-Christina

-Will

-Tobias "Four"

-Zeke

Zip line of Love - Nonbinary Reader (Requested) 🌸

-Uriah

•Star Wars

-Anakin Skywalker

-Luke Skywalker

-Leia Organa

-Han Solo

-Obi-Wan Kenobi

-Kylo Ren

•Supernatural

-Dean Winchester

-Sam Winchester

-Castiel

-Crowley

-Lucifer

-Rowena MacLeod

-Gabriel

-Charlie Bradbury (Fem/NB only)

-Chuck Shurley

-Jody Mills

-Ellen Harvelle

-Kevin Tran

•The Walking Dead

-Rick Grimes

-Daryl Dixon

-Glenn Rhee

-Carl Grimes

-Maggie Greene

-Negan

-Michonne

-Shane Walsh

-Rosita Espinosa

-Carol Peletier

-Paul "Jesus" Monroe

-Abraham Ford

‐Tara Chambler (Fem/NB only)

-Enid

-Ezekiel

-Aaron (Masc/NB only)

•The Walking Dead Game

-Clementine

-Lee

-Kenny

-Luke

-Javier

-Gabriel

-Kate

-Louis

-Omar

-Ruby

-Mitch

-Marlon

-Violet (Fem/NB only)

IT (2017)

-Richie Tozier

-Beverly Marsh

-Eddie Kaspbrak

-Bill Denbrough

-Stanley Uris

-Ben Hanscom

-Henry Bowers

-Mike Hanlon

-Patrick Hockstetter

-Victor Criss

-Belch Huggins

•Desendants

-Mal

-Evie

-Ben

-Jay

-Jane

-Chad

-Doug

-Lonnie

-Carlos

-Uma

-Harry Hook

-Gil

•Maze Runner

-Newt

-Minho

-Gally

-Teresa

-Alby

-Chuck

-Brenda

-Aris

-Thomas

-Frypan

-Jorge

[slashingdisneypasta]

Hey thank you for the links! They are working. Werewolf Sykes is sooo cool. And, I love dark fic so I thought the drabble was awesome. Pulling a gun on his s/o? Yeah. He would. His gentle, quiet, dangerous voice...👌👌

I had a dark thought, too. Warning for dub-con. If your family happened to owe Sykes a debt...imagine him demanding you as part of his payment. Promising them that the amount they owe will be reduced if they hand you over. He'll say you'll be working for him, helping with accounting and bookkeeping, that your services will take some of the weight off his shoulders...they can't see any other option but to accept.

He walks to you to his car, whispering silkily into your ear not to worry, all your needs will be taken care of. One of his big, warm hands on the small of your back as you climb into the back seat. Just a hint of a threat in his voice and his imposing size sending a shiver through you. You soon find out that the services he mentioned aren't exactly what you were expecting ;)

That's it. 😁 You must have some Toon Patrol asks then. 😁 I like the Weasels too, Wheezy being my fav. What else do you have asks for? It's ok if you don't want to share- I am just very curious. I have a feeling I'm going to like it here!

WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH oh my gosh.

This. This, this, this!!! There's nothing to add, its just- Ughhh, good stuff 👌 XD

Accounting 😏 and Book Keeping 🥰 I see.

And- yes!! I have lots of Toon Patrol asks! ^^ There is some other stuff sprinkled in as well though. Ooh you like Wheezy?? Sameeee XD He is so chill and in control 😏 While also being an unpredictable addict, which is very interesting XD

Here's the list!: (Apart from the OC stuff, the audience for which is basically @marinerainbow and I XD )

Doc and Sheriff from Cars x Reader x Chick Hicks. I AM SO FUCKING EXCITED TO WRITE THIS. I NEED TO SIT MY ASS DOWN AND ENJOY IT, I DUNNO WHY I KEEP PUSHING IT BACK!! @marinerainbow g i f t e d this ask to me, suggesting a reader who's so flirty with Doc and the Sheriff, because she likes them so much <3<3 , but who's getting nowhere with them because she's younger and they're gentlemen who would never 'take advantage' of her- when Chick comes into the picture and starts coming onto reader (He has no problem with the age gap 😅🤣). And she kinda has a moment, like... well, I'm not getting anywhere with the men I w a n t- so I might as well give this guy, who actually w a n t s m e, a chance! Right?? And then suddenly Doc and Sheriff are jealous XD

Another of her gift asks to me as a Professor fucking Callahan one where he treats Student!Menstruating!Reader better then all the other students XDD I c a n n o t believe I haven't written this yet. I guess I just feel guilty writing so much Cal (and Jim and Cruella and Otis- my f/os) 😅😅 The audience is real niche for them 😅😅😅

Horror Villains sorted by Love Language

A few Spotify Wrapped Prompts I still havent done 😅😰 (Maleficent, Psycho Weasel, Greasy Weasel, Inkubus, Clayton, and the Horned King).

Rufus Firefly thoughts! x2

@marinerainbow 's Slasher!Toon Patrol AU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! x2

Lady Tremaine and Madame Medusa thinking about reader while they're... self caring~ 😏 XD

Which Disney Villains would be up for a threesome with reader?? And with w h i c h other Disney Villains would they be happy to do it with? 😏😏😏

Ex!Freddy Krueger x Reader who's with someone else now but cant stop thinking about him. (God fucking damn him, right?? XD ) I actually have written this, but I made it r e a l self indulgent and the other guys is d e f i n e t l y Jim Bickerman (I mean- I didn't use his name- But I alluded to it XD Reader kinda goes 'J- ' and stops just in time XD ). So i have to rewrite it and make it a bit more ambiguous XD

Pervy Villains (Beetlejuice, Chucky, Freddy, Greasy, Hades (or Jafar. I'm thinking of swapping them), and Offenderman) reacting to noticing reader having a wet dream ~~~

#i hope you do like it here!! ^^ you seem lovely and we're happy to have you!! ^^ 💛💛💛

[doflamingadonquixote]

Even the devil was once an angel | [2/?]

Summary: You are a psychiatrist and decide to play a dangerous game with the worst of criminal minds. Or: you're a bit bored too.

Pairing: Jim Moriarty x Fem!Reader

Chapter word count:

Warning: +18, mind games, angst and smut, hurt/comfort, stalker!Moriarty (Jim Moriarty is his own warning)

Previous Chap: 1

James Moriarty decides to show up assiduously for every appointment. You find a change in the tenth session.

You didn't think the consulting criminal was so competitive when it came to winning a bet on his superiority. You had, by mutual agreement, arranged two days a week where he was to come to your office and at the appointed times.

You had no intention of accepting his offer to give you an entire attic just for his sessions. The egocentric little bastard had to be a real patient if he wanted to continue playing the game.

After several positive feedbacks in putting stakes in your relationship, you had ventured to put a time limit on your work.

You had asked for a year, a year without having the pressure and the unawareness that, at any moment, Moriarty might shoot you in the head.

He simply laughed at you and rejected your request with a: "Where would be the fun in that?".

By studying him, confronting him, listening to him you had come to the conclusion that he was seriously suffering from a psychopathic personality disorder.

He often enjoyed constructing stories. And with those stories he would put you in great difficulty.

He was so adept at lying that when he finally asked you: "Truth or lie?" You were faced with a Pandora's box that you didn't know whether you wanted to open.

Another thing that made you curious and confirmed your assumptions was the nervous jerks that lit him up like a fuse. You thought you heard your secretary knocking things off the desk, out of the office, when Moriarty's scream came suddenly.

Even so, with a few more sittings, you had managed to avoid touching any sore buttons that would upset the man in front of you.

He always sat at your desk, creating a position of authority over you and often played with the objects distributed on the surface.

You lowered your eyes and found the pencils neatly and straight, arranged next to the laptop. He had already been inside for several minutes and they were still there, neatly arranged.

Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a tennis ball bouncing violently against said pencils, breaking the order, and then landing on your lap. 

You tried to hold back a smile as you lifted the toy and brought it before your eyes.

Another thing you'd discovered about Jim Moriarty was how much he loved disorder and chaos, and that anything that wasn't to his mental standards had to be torn down.

“So, doc, truth or lie?”

He rocked back against the swivel chair, terribly discombobulated as he let his back slide down.

You opened the notepad on which you had jotted down summary diagrams to help you determine the information he had given you during the session. He tried to peek from your position, raising his posture slightly, but you lifted the notebook so that he would not read.

“You're not a maths professor but you probably wish you were, considering the way you frowned when talking about the poor university performance, almost as if to remedy it.”

Moriarty crossed his hands over his belly covered by a dark blue linen shirt and gloated at your deductions.

“It's not true that you have contact with your family, your lack of empathy and your criminal record would prevent you from having relations with them.”

His offended sigh distracted you from your next remark. He had an exaggeratedly shocked expression on his face and his right hand had risen to rest where, you presumed, his heart lay.

“I'm offended, doc. I pride myself so much on the relationship I have built over the years with my little brother.”

Your eyes focused on the notebook to prevent the criminal from understanding your reaction and, to make it more believable, you made more of a circle around the word 'brother'.

Moriarty sneered as he straightened in his chair.

“But don't bother conferring with the old Ice Man. I've been very thorough in erasing traces of the past.”

You gave him a sad smile that hid the strong sense of disappointment.

“Ever heard of attorney-client privilege, Mr. Moriarty?”

He made a thoughtful groan but didn't add anything else. 

You really believed that the therapy was progressing at the right pace. Moriarty had even gone so far as to turn his conversations into something very close to a confession.

But suddenly, the perfectly mapped out road you had built up to that moment collapsed in on itself and you with it.

That day you were quietly listening to the reflections of one of your young patients. He was one of those somewhat hesitant ones, who are never quite sure whether to say the right thing or not, so building up a sort of confidence had taken you many weeks.

And James Moriarty had probably managed in two seconds to overwhelmingly destroy it.

That day he entered your office with a frightening carriage, leaving behind your secretary's frantic pleas for him to politely stay out of the session and wait.

His footsteps were heavy and for the first time you found him locked in one of his best dark suits.

He crossed the threshold and dropped into his usual chair, placing his leather shoes on your computer on the desk.

“They're unbearably fucking boring!” He dropped his head back, colliding with the backrest and sighed audibly. “How can you be so blind to such a clear clue!”

Your confusion quickly turned to anger as you watched the young secretary look from Moriarty to you with a startled and agitated expression.

In addiction, the boy on your couch had curled in on himself, and he too had his gaze focused on the newcomer.

Swallowing the lump that had blocked your breath for a few seconds, you forced your body to react in the most natural way possible.

With an apparent calm, you stood up and offered your hand to your client who took it, albeit hesitantly.

“I'm sorry for the inconvenience, Thomas, but it seems I have an emergency to attend to.”

You walked him to the door, reassuring him that the session would not be paid for and to make an appointment as soon as possible with your secretary. You left him in her care and closed the door with a snap.

Showing menace towards the most dangerous man in London, and (why not) perhaps the world, wasn't the smartest thing you could do, but James Moriarty had quickly gotten under your skin, irritating you to the point of exhaustion.

Your fists clenched spasmodically and you could feel your nails pushing painfully against your palms. Your cold face changed to an offended and furious frown as you watched the man at your desk.

“I am quite sure Lucia informed you that I was busy.”

You finally caught his attention and he arched his neck to look at you.

“And I'm supposed to care about that?” He asked undisturbed, as he probed you from head to toe. He was probably enjoying your first human reaction to his person. 

“It should.” You bit your tongue to avoid adding that you doubted his respect, however, and moved a few steps closer to prevent your words from reaching those outside the door.“He is a patient in real need of assistance and you have interrupted his time, Mr. Moriarty.”

He shrugged, sneering. 

“So am I, didn't you hear what I said earlier?”

He was clearly poking at you now, and you were getting pulled in.

“To you this is all just a stupid game. A way to fill the void that your, oh so immense, knowledge cannot fill.”

You spat out the words in anger and judgment, which didn't suit you at all and was extremely unprofessional.

He raised his hands as if a weapon had been pointed at him and you feared his sniper would threaten you again at any moment.

“Forgive me, doc, for giving you that feeling. What can I do about it?” His voice was clearly mocking.

“Get those shoes off my desk and sit on the couch like any fucking therapy patient.”

Your throat suddenly went dry, preventing you from hurling yourself at Moriarty again and, in the several seconds of silence that sliced the air, the criminal got up and went to sit comfortably in the armchair you had so quietly suggested to him.

You remained staring at the empty desk for a few seconds until a shaky, uncertain breath finally left your constricted lungs. 

You analysed yourself. James Moriarty had taken you by surprise. You had not pre-set your attitude, which helped keep the man from reaching your personal sphere as a human being and not as a doctor. 

And by barging in like that he had managed to get around the barrier and intrude.

You raised a hand, massaging your forehead and pinching the base of your nose as if to regain some semblance of self-control.

“I apologise for my behaviour. I stepped out of character.”

Moriarty was looking at you intently and for the first time you thought he was taking you seriously.

Your back touched the chair you were sitting on a few minutes earlier and you sighed.

“The robot attitude wouldn't hold for long, I assure you. I like you, doctor. Maybe we can be friends.”

His comment made you laugh unwillingly.

“I'm your analyst, not your friend.”

“One doesn't exclude the other, does it?”

You opened your notebook but didn't comment. His words suddenly seemed very real to you, very meaningful. Moriarty had always been good with words, with his eyes, with his body language.

Stupidly, in the midst of his complaints about Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson, you wondered what it would be like to be friends with an internationally known criminal.

#jim moriarty #jim moriarty x reader #female reader #bbc sherlock #sherlock fandom #sherlock fanfic #sherlock holmes #angst and smut #hurt/comfort #terapist to friend #friend to lovers #male yandere #mind manipulation

[bulletproofscales]

BTS sfw oneshots

jinnie's piggies (ot7 , feeder jin , drabble)

pampering the leader (minjoon , chubby namjoon , hurt and comfort)

they are all staring at you (yoonmin , chubby yoongi , poping buttons , public space)

chp2  (yoonmin , fat yoongi , bdsm , dom sub dynamics , hurt/comfort , use of safe word)

stubborn Yoonie (yoonkook , chubby yoongi , shaming)

zumba at 6:30pm (sope , chubby yoongi , zumba instructor hoseok)

miss the gym? (could be ot7 , jungkook centric , chubby jungkook)

his baby, his stuffed, gassy baby (taekook , chubby jungkook , gassy)

chp2  (taekook , chubby jungkook , gassy )

weird oportunity (could be ot7 , jungkook centric , chubby jungkook , insecurities)

stress eating (ot7 , fat hyung line , stuffing , hurt comfort)

teeny tiny house (2seok , fat hoseok , breaking furniture , hurt comfort , use of safe word)

MAMAs presentation doesnt have to be perfect (namseok , double gaining , hurt comfort kinda)

Jinnie’s...piggies? (ot3 , namjinseok , fat namjoon and fat hoseok , getting stuck in chairs , breaking the couch)

a 6 month hiatus does that to you (jungkook x reader , chubby jungkook , hurt/comfort)

Coca Cola and beer (hopekook , gassy jungkook , pinning , light angst)

the realest of selves (namkook , not feederism , established relationship , fluff)

“namjin evidence” (namjin , not feederism , established  relationship , fluff and crack )

literature can be interesting? (sope , not feederism , uni professor au , fluffy , happy ending , pinning )

chairman sized (vminkook , fat jimin , getting stuck in chair , public space , wg denial)

bts x mcdonalds (ot7 , word dump , furtniture breaking , they all gain weight )

the gentler touches (trans guy hoseok , namseok , fluff , gender dysphoria , hurt comfort)

monthly charity carwash (bottom heavy seokjin , public space , carwash , word dump?)

how to train your hybrid, sorta (yoonkook , mutual gaining, fluff , stuffing

admiring you is a full time job (hopekook , drunken confessions , ripping clothes , pinning, NSFW BONUS IN SECOND CHAPTER)

a king's banquet, pocket sized (jinkook , royal au , king jungkook , chef seokjin , stuffing , fluff)

room to change (namjin , hurt/comfort , internalized homophibia , anxiety , making out , dry humping , chubby seokjin)

skinny boy big dreams (jungkook solo , feedee jungkook , small drabble , bodyshaming)

not yet afterhours ( jinkook , obese jim seokjin , muscle chub jungkook , stuffing , bakery au)

a higher gpa and a higher bmi (namkook , taejin , sopemin , fat maknae line )

a fu(filling) challenge (yoonjin, gainer seokjin, wg , fat seokjin, competitive eating , public space)

heavyweight champion of the mile high club (taekook , fat kim taehyung , feeder jeon jungkook , in public , mile high club (i guess) )

#you can ignore this post~ #just making some reorganazing of the masterlist

[vintagepvssy]

In the mood to actually finish writing all the wips in my arsenal. Incel!Jonathan crane x catwoman!reader, jonathan crane x professor!reader, professor!Jim(DS) x student!reader, etc etc… I have so many more ideas completely planned out but literally no motivation to write it.

#oof #writing is so fun but so haaaard #says the person who has released NOTHING #yikes I just need to put it out and stop being lazy #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #jonathan crane x reader #neil lewis #Jim delinquent season #robert fischer