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musicprincess1990 · 2 years ago

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Sherlolly Appreciation Week - Day 5

Sorry I'm late (again), but here's the promised Musician AU!

~*~

In Perfect Harmony

Very few people knew of Molly’s musical talent, let alone that it had made her a local celebrity. Her name and her eight-year-old face had been on every tabloid and newspaper in England for a solid six months, as she toured alongside the London Philharmonic. Child prodigy Margaret Hooper was on track to become a world-famous violinist, among the ranks of Heifetz, Kreisler, and Perlman. The violin was her life, her purpose, her first true love.

Until the pain started, and she was diagnosed with carpal tunnel syndrome.

Molly didn’t touch her violin for years, even after she had healed. Eventually, though, she picked it back up, but she only played for herself (and perhaps a few nosy neighbours who might have been listening). Never in public, nor even in front of her family. Her once legendary talent had all but slipped away, and though she was still good (as far as she knew), she certainly wasn’t as good. But the joy of simply playing again was all she needed.

She never told a soul. Not her uni mates, none of her boyfriends, not even Sherlock Holmes (although expected he knew just by looking at her). It was somehow comforting to have that secret, and to have music as an escape when she needed it.

Today, she most definitely needed it.

Molly sighed and rolled her shoulders backward in an effort to relax. She couldn’t precisely say why she was in such a foul mood, nothing bad had happened (for her, that is, no doubt the families of her post-mortems would disagree). By all accounts, it had been a perfectly normal day, and yet she felt somehow on edge… restless. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it felt like something was about to happen.

At that point, Molly was tired of thinking, and more than ready to lose herself in music. She pulled her violin out from her closet and brought it to the sitting room. After applying rosin to the bowstrings, she adjusted the tuning, then tucked the instrument beneath her chin and began to play. The effect was instantaneous. As she coaxed the melody from the strings, all that tension at her back and shoulders washed away, and she let out another sigh. Her eyes fell closed as she slipped into a sort of trance-like state, and all but the music fell away.

As she drew out the final note of the piece, she returned to the here and now, smiling softly and feeling infinitely more at peace. She lowered bow and violin, turning to put them back into their case when—

“SODDING HELL!!”

Molly barely managed to keep from unceremoniously dropping her violin, though the bow was not so lucky, and shot across the room, clattering against a wall, then the floor. Her free hand then flew to her mouth on a reflex, due to the shock of realizing she wasn’t alone.

There stood none other than Sherlock bloody Holmes, staring at her like she’d sprouted an extra head.

Well. So much for the secret.

Molly heaved her third sigh of the night and went to retrieve her bow. “Sherlock, how many times have I asked you not to barge in unannounced?”

He didn’t answer immediately, and she could almost feel his eyes boring a hole into her skull while she put her violin and bow back in the case. When she finally faced him again, he said, “I called twice. You didn’t answer.”

Frowning in confusion, Molly slid a hand into her pocket, only to find her phone wasn’t there, and she realized she’d left it in her room. “Oh,” she said lamely. “Sorry, I… forgot I didn’t have my phone on me.”

Sherlock said nothing, just stared.

“Erm…” she began awkwardly, “so… what do you need?”

Another few moments of uncomfortable staring, and finally, he spoke, but instead of answering her question, he asked one of his own. “Why did you never tell me you played the violin?”

Not particularly wanting to discuss the whole complicated truth, Molly simply shrugged and said, “I thought you knew.”

“How would I have known?” he shot back irritably.

“The same way you know everything about everybody else,” she shrugged again. “I thought you would have deduced it.”

“Well, I didn’t,” he snapped, and it all became clear. He had missed something. By his own admission, he always missed something, but no matter how true that statement might be, it still bothered him when he did. Especially when it was something important, and this, she supposed, was important to him. And judging by the way he still stared at her, he wasn’t happy with the answer she gave him.

“I don’t tell anyone,” she finally continued. “No one outside of my family knows… except you, now.”

“Why?”

Molly had lost count of how many times she’d sighed in the last fifteen minutes, but she let out yet another. “If I’m going to have this conversation with you, I’m going to need wine.”

He rolled his eyes, but left the sitting room and made his way to her kitchen. Molly followed and went straight for the cupboard, where she opened a new bottle of merlot. She pulled out two glasses, raised her eyebrows at him in a wordless question, and at his nod, set one of them in front of him and filled both. His eyes never left her as she took a gratuitous sip, nor as he took a much smaller one from his own glass. Molly took another few swigs before setting hers down, finally ready to talk.

“I started playing the violin at two. My mum and dad told me I’d always loved watching characters and performers on telly who played, and they bought me a toy violin one Christmas. Apparently, I never let it out of my sight, and was constantly playing. At first, I expect it was just random noise, but then I started copying what I heard on telly… and I was good. Within a few years, I was old enough to start lessons, and I excelled. By the time I was eight years old, I was considered a prodigy, and was invited to play with the Philharmonic. I had a good six months as their featured artist.

Here, Molly paused, taking another rather large swallow of her wine. “Then I started having pain in my wrist.” She lifted her left hand and pointed to the spot in question, just on the underside of her wrist.

“Carpal tunnel,” he guessed, and she nodded.

“My parents tried to get me to stop playing, but I didn’t listen. I couldn’t imagine not playing the violin, it was everything to me. But one night, while on stage, it got so bad that I couldn’t play. I tried—God, I tried so hard—but I just couldn’t.”

She bit her lip as the bitter memories flashed through her mind, and finally forced out, “Within a week, the Philharmonic had found a replacement violinist. I was utterly destroyed, depressed for months, and my parents were worried I would harm myself. I didn’t… but I thought about it,” she admitted in a small voice. “It took several weeks of physiotherapy, and years of counselling, for me to heal. And it took even longer before I could even think of playing again. In fact it… it took my father asking me to play at his funeral. I had to rent out a violin that fit me, I’d long since outgrown the one I played as a girl, but I played ‘Danny Boy’ for him, one of his favourite songs. I expect he knew that would reawaken my love for music, and for the violin. And it did… but I still haven’t had the courage to perform.”

Having finished her tale, Molly downed the remaining contents of her glass, then poured another generous helping.

Sherlock, who had hardly touched his wine, took a thoughtful sip. “I suppose I understand why you kept it a secret in general… but why didn’t you tell me?”

Molly shrank back a bit, wrapping her arms around her middle. For a moment, she considered lying to him, telling him that the thought simply hadn’t occurred to her. But lying had never been her strong suit, and even if it were, he would still have seen through it. Still, she knew the words she was about to say would hurt him… almost as much as they would hurt her.

“You already criticise my jokes, my appearance, my taste in men—ironic, that,” she interjected. “I just couldn’t bear to have you criticise this, too.”

Sherlock was silent for a long time, and Molly kept her gaze firmly fixed on her hands, not wanting to see the pity and derision she was sure would be written all over his face. But then she saw him move from the corner of her eye, and she couldn’t help but look up as he stepped closer to her. And in his eyes, she found no trace of pity, not an ounce of derision… but an ocean’s worth of remorse.

“I am sorry, Molly,” he said in a low, serious voice. “I have never wanted to hurt you.”

She smiled sadly at him. “I know.”

His eyes flicked back and forth between hers before he spoke again. “Let me be clear on a few things. First of all, your jokes are ridiculous and groan-worthy, but nevertheless, they’ve always made me smile. Your taste in clothing is… curious, but in fact it suits you, and believe me, you have no reason to be at all insecure about your figure. As to your taste in men…” He took another step toward her, coming within arm’s reach, and forcing her to tip her head back to meet his eye. “To own the truth… the only real problem I’ve ever had with the men in your life is that none of them were me.”

Molly’s mouth fell open. “I… you… what?”

Sherlock’s lips twitched as he fought a smile. “Perhaps I haven’t been clear enough.”

And then those lips were on hers, and his hands bunched the fabric of her jumper as they curled into fists at her back. Molly heard a breathless moan as she buried her fingers in his curls, and only belatedly realized it had come from her. His tongue poked out and sought entrance, which she most happily obliged and moaned yet again as he tasted her. She gave as good as she got, and soon he was moaning right along with her.

It wasn’t until he hoisted her up onto the worktop that they broke apart, and Molly put a hand on his chest to stop him. Beneath the layers of clothing, she could feel his heart racing in rhythm with her own, and his eyes, wide and hungry and unfocused, found hers in an unspoken question.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” she asked.

Sherlock looked down bashfully—something she never thought she would see him do. “I don’t think I realized it until tonight… when I heard you playing. I had no idea, not in the slightest, and it irked me to think I had missed it, but even more so that you hadn’t even told me.” He sighed, bowing his head. “Not good, I know… but it’s the truth. And the thought that you’d been keeping this secret from me, while the likes of Tim—”

“Tom,” she corrected him.

“—Irrelevant,” he waved her off, “or even dear ‘Jim from IT’ knew about it—”

“They didn’t, I never told them either.”

“Well, I know that now,” he huffed.

Molly let out a giggle and brushed her hands over the lapels of his jacket. “You’re adorable when you’re jealous.”

His eyes narrowed. “I am neither adorable nor jealous.” “Yes, you are,” she grinned, and before he could argue, she yanked on his lapels and kissed him again, and he responded in kind. No more words were needed as they fumbled their way to her bedroom. They were as they had been so often before: in perfect harmony.

#sherlolly appreciation week 2023 #sherlollyweek2023 #sherlolly #musician au #molly plays the violin #sherlock is dumbstruck #the ending is sappy as hell #may change it later #but for now this is what you get

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samkerrworshipper · 6 months ago

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beautiful, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful girl

leah williamson x reader, jordan nobbs x reader (wobbs as coparents)

reconciliation … the final part in this series x

2 months later:

“My name is y/n Williamson-Nobbs, and I am an addict.”

There are things you appreciate nowadays, more then you did before. Fresh air, the flowers blooming in spring, a strong coffee, smiles from strangers, a warm bed, hugs, being told you are enough, a classic movie, the sun, fruit, water, being clean.

“I didn’t ever take drugs to hurt anybody, or hurt anybody knowingly. I didn’t take drugs to have fun, or party, I didn’t get addicted because I liked it.”

You like taking your dog on walks, going and getting your hair done, floating in the ocean, lying in grass, being sober.

“I took drugs because it made me feel whole. I’ve never felt whole in my entire life, everyday in my life I’ve used something to patch that hole up, during my childhood I tried to fix every single problem, I fixed myself by fixing everybody else in my life, my mom, my non existent dad. As I got older it changed, I seeked validation to patch the hole, it was healthy, but I think I’ve always been an addict and I always will be. I’ve been addicted to filling that hole, it was disguised as being healthy for most of my life until I switched the validation for drugs.”

You don’t avoid peoples eye contact as you walk along the street anymore, you don’t avoid your moms, you don’t lie to people anymore, you don’t put yourself in danger.

“It started with nicotine, because my mom enabled it. I think she was more scared for me then anything. I was spiralling, who wouldn’t be in this day and age? I mean any parent of a teen must be terrified in this day and age, I know I would be. The nicotine was good, but then I got introduced to weed, and it felt like every problem I’ve ever had was fixed.”

You talk about your feelings now, you identify every single thing that you feel and you talk about it with as much detail as your moms and therapist want to hear. You don’t study the different chemicals entering your body every time you shoot up anymore, you study the intricacy and meaning of what you are going through. You take medicine for your depression and anxiety, not drugs for your hopelessness.

“They say weed is the pipeline drug, it’s true. After weed, I felt on top of the world and there was no stopping me. Molly, LSD, coke, heroin, benzos, fentanyl, ketamine, oxy, speed, and eventually meth, which I now know to be the worst of all of them. I didn’t know it at the time, there wasn’t anybody in my life, or in the life I’d created forn myself that was willing to tell me how dangerous what I was doing was.”

Jordan moved back in, whilst you were in rehab. It had been two weeks, that’s what you agreed to. It was the worst two weeks of your life without any doubt. But when you were picked up, both your moms were there, both of them were there for you. They both took time off, time off to take you away, across to France for a week.

“Meth will always be the thing that destroyed my life. My parents don’t trust me anymore, I get why. I lashed out, I became devoid of everything, I was convinced that everybody hated me, and that I was the cause of everybody’s pain, including my own. I convinced myself that the people who loved me the very most didn’t, and that I was the bomb that had torn all of my relationships in my life apart. I was a kid though, I still am, and I’m trying to be better.”

The trust was a hard thing. Your therapist saw Leah and Jordan twice a week, and that was when they would discuss the things that they could start reintroducing you to. School was a no, for now. You were yet to be permitted to stay at the house, alone, for longer then an hour, so every training session, gym session, appointment, media duty, catch up with friends, you were dragged to. It had been tough in the beginning, but you understood, trust had to be earnt. Every week there was something to look forward to, Jordan had been teaching you to drive after you’d gotten out of rehab, and as of a week ago you were permitted to drive yourself to and from your NA meetings.

“Meth made me feel like I was on top of the world, even though i was at my rock bottom. I had bad friends, I fell into a bad group of people, people who took advantage of the fact that I was so vulnerable and hurt. I’ll never forgive them for that, I’ll never be able to forgive them for taking advantage of a girl nearly ten years younger then them. They were hurting too, but that doesn’t excuse manipulating another person. They hurt me, they enabled me, they assaulted me, they took things from me that I’ll never get back.”

The first thing your mothers had wanted when after you’d come clean to them about everything was for you to get a rape kit. You’d outright refused, you were protecting the people, you didn’t want to relive what had happened to you but also a part of you didn’t want Matt and Maya to go down, even if you could now recognise that they’d done unforgivable things to you. Eventually, you agreed to it. You were glad you did, Matt had passed on chlamydia to you, which you thought was some kind of sick joke, that even after he’d deserted you there was still parts of him that were hurting you from the insides. Karma came in the form of a sexual assault report, one which had the policemen heading to his home to arresst him, only to finds thousands of dollars worth of illicit substances.

“I’m not proud of what I did to get a fix, I don’t think any recovering addict is. A couple of months ago I would have ruined every single relationship I had with all of the people I loved just to get a hit of what I was craving, and nowadays I would probably do the same, but I don’t need to. Meth was the love of my life, I think it always will be, or maybe the craving for something to fill me up is what I crave, I don’t really know, I’m still working everyday to try and figure that out.”

Sometimes, as you drove home at night, around every corner towards the house, you considered taking a stop at a side street, one that you knew a dealer would be sitting on. Somedays, you considered driving the car off of the highway and into a tree. Somedays, you considered taking a blade to your throat so you didn’t have to do rehab. Somedays though, you felt so incredibly blessed to be alive. Sometimes, you would sit outside, in the sun and just feel, allow yourself to feel everything that you’d always pushed down out of fear that you’d be deserted if you let any true emotion show.

“We’re all human, we all have the same dignity, no matter who we are. I made some stupid choices, choices that I won’t ever be able to reckon with, choices that for the rest of my life will haunt me. Don’t we all though? Don’t we all lie awake at night worrying about the things that we’ve done, that are out of our control now?”

You’d come to not fear desertion, the people who you’d hated most in the world but also loved most in the world had deserted you. Your parents had deserted you, you closest friends, people you would have considered your found family, deserted you. It was something you had no control over, something that you would never have control over and focusing all of your energy on trying to fix that had become something that you’d give up on.

“I’m not perfect, I never have been, I never will be. I can guarantee though that nobody in this room feels like they are perfect. We’re all hurt people, everybody has something that they keep hidden from people because they are scared that somehow it is going to make people see them differently. I’m guilty of it, my whole life i’ve been hiding, I still am. I’m not ashamed to admit that coming here every night terrifies me, that somebody I’ve known at some stage of my life will walk through the same doors I do and I’ll be put face to face with that, but it’s life. We all make our own mistakes, we all pave our own ways.”

Leah and Jordan still fought, you were secretly glad. It was clear that everything between them was done, which you hated to be happy about, You weren’t ready for that to be back to normal, you weren’t ready to feel like you were able to go back to the way life was when they were together. Lia mediated them, she balanced everything out and the two of you had managed to build a relationship. She was like the older sister you’d never had and you were happier to have her around knowing that she was happy to support you in the same way your moms would, even if she wasn’t living in the same house as you all anymore.

“I will never be able to properly apologise for how I acted, I’ll never be able to repay the people that found me at my lowest and still showed uo for me. I owe my life to those people, and I will spend every single day of my life being so thankful for the opportunity they have given me to have a second chance.”

Life was better, everything was better, you were recovering, you were learning. You felt more connected and loved by the people around you in your whole life. You didn’t feel like you had to seek out love anymore, you didn’t feel like you had to do something to earn it. Leah spent every minute of everyday doing small things to make you feel loved, dragging you out of the house to get coffee with her, reading with you every night before bed, sitting through you when the cravings were making your day harder, driving you to the beach when you felt like you needed fresh air, dragging you to physio appointments so you could hang out with your aunties, buying you fresh flowers to put in your room to make the dark memories of it a little bit nicer, helping you redecorate the space, letting you sleep in her bed when the tendencies started to burn all over your skin.

“I have a disease, I have a terminal illness that will forever impair my ability to live life normally. I will forever be attached to my past, and that’s really tough, I won’t ever be cured of my past, I won’t ever be able to say that I am free of my addiction, I will forever be tied to my decisions.”

Your therapist was helping you weed out all the bad, helping you to identify the different patterns of self destructive behaviour that you chose, helping you to make better decisions for yourself, decisions that didn’t end in you destroying everything you’d worked for.

“I’m an addict, we all are, we all know what it feels like to be plagued with our past. We all get up here every week and speak about our demons, because we all get it. We get what it feels like to lose everything, we all understand the terror that crosses over a persons face when you overdose, or tell them that you’re using, or when they wake up across from your hospital bed. We’re all going through our own shit, we’re all struggling everyday. I struggle everyday, because I’m an addict, for the rest of my life I will struggle because I’m an addict, but there isn’t anybody who understands me better than all of you. I’ve been sober for two months, there have been relapses, there have been struggles, there has been pain and so much for me to be ashamed of. There has been so many positives though, there has been so much good, so much happiness, so many good moments. I don’t believe that everything happens for a reason, there is too much bad in this world for me to believe in that, but I do believe that this experience has made me a better person, it’s made me stronger, its made me more resilient. The past two months have been some of the best parts of my life, and i intend for the rest of my life to be the same. This chip means a lot to me, but it’s the progress that makes all of this better, knowing that I’ve left parts of me behind that will now stay behind me forever.”

You looked down at the chip in your hands, the little bronzey coin that was so small but felt like it was bigger then the world to you. You smiled at the group of people around you, nodding your head once again before walking towards you sponsor and giving them a hug. It felt good, like a big weight had been lifted from your shoulders. You’d never spoken much in meetings, you were more than happy to hear other peoples stories, but tonight had been special to you. You’d thought about what you were going to say, much of it being what you’d talked about with your moms earlier in the week during family therapy. It had been hard, talking to your moms so openly about how you felt, but it was something you were becoming better at as the days passed.

You stayed around for the coffee and biscuits, talking with the people that you’d grown close to over the past month and a half in the mildewy church which smelt a little bit too similar to your great grandmothers living room.

You stuck around until the first few people started to trail out, before you made the decision it was time to get home. You said your goodbyes, farewelling your friends before dismissing yourself and making the walk out to the carpark, towards Leah’s car.

Driving had become your one piece of real freedom, it was the only time where you got to think to yourself. A couple of months ago, you would have found solace in continuous loneliness, you would have sat in the car for hours and been happy. Now though, you found yourself navigating your way back home as fast as possible, whilst still abiding by road rules.

The gravel driveway underneath the wheels of a car used to make you nervous, if anything it now made you feel anticipation.

You jumped from the car with a hop in your step, the bronze chip still clutched in your palm, the metal now warm against your skin after the acclimation of the metal to your body temperature.

You used your key to enter the door, smiling at the warmth and scent that you were met with as you untied your shoes and left them by the front door.

Leah was waiting for you in the kitchen, she always was, every night you decided to go to a meeting. You knew that she still worried, that she spent nights awake worrying about you. You’d lost count of how many times on the nights you spent in your own bed how often she’d come to check to make sure you were still lying there. She probably always would worry, you wouldn’t blame her if she did, you’d put her through a lot.

She brought you into a hug, the same hug as every night, it always lasted for a little bit too long, but you never brought it up.

She would hug you tighter every single time, it was clockwork.

“Lia’s come over for dinner, she’s cooked spaghetti for everybody, but she made bangers and mash for you special, no pasta.”

You smiled at your mom, letting her press a chaste kiss to your forehead before you followed her into the dining room, where dinner was already plated up and Jordan and Lia were already seated at the table.

Jordan sent a smile your way as you sat down, things were still rocky between the two of you, it was never going to be perfect, it was never going to be as good as before, but you were both doing the work to heal bits of it and that was what mattered.

“Hey bubba, how was your meeting?”

Most nights you answered the same, with something simple.

“Good, I got this today.”

You pushed the chip onto the table, pulling your phone out of your pocket so you didn’t have to witness their raw reactions.

“Bubba, we’ve talked about this, no phones at the table.”

You frowned, pushing your phone back into your trackpant pocket, and looking up at your moms.

“This is awesome bubba, we’re both so proud of you.”

Jordan had picked up the coin, looking at it with glazed eyes.

There had been a lot of that since you’d come out of rehab, a lot of crying, a lot more than you were comfortable with.

“I want you to keep it.”

Jordan looked up at you, mildly confused.

“Bubba, it’s your token, your progress, your hardwork, you should keep it.”

You shook your head.

“Mom has my one month one, I want you to keep this one. I’m doing it for you two, I’m trying to be better for you two, and I want you to know that I’m committed to it and that without you guys I wouldn’t be able to do this.”

You could see tears pooling in Leah’s eyes from the other side of the table, jordan’s own ones beginning to drip down her face.

“Anyways, it’s not big deal, let’s have dinner, I’m sure whatever Lia cooked up is better than anything you and mom could have managed.”

You tried to pass it off with some lighthearted humour, but based off of the tears on your parents face, it wasn’t doing much.

Jordan and Leah both reached over, taking a hand in each of yours.

“You know that no matter what happens, no matter where you go, who you become, what you do, how you live your life, you will always be our beautiful girl.”

#woso #woso community #sammykworshipper thoughts #leah williamson #arsenal wfc #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson is mom #leah makes me cry #leah williamson fic #jordan and leah #leah williamson imagine #jordan nobbs x reader #jordan nobbs #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso appreciation #sammykworshipperfics

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moontopuff · 1 month ago

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how it started/how u met

okay so being honest, twins didn't notice you until your third year

that's when u, as a Hufflepuff, had transfiguration with gryffindor

and let's just say that they *had* to notice u

because u tried to do the task so.many.times. but it just didn't work and at some point u just yelled "bloody fuckin hell!"

and yes professor did take 10 points from your house for saying those words

but! thanks to that weasley twins noticed you! Right after the lesson, they approached you on the hall

"so. aren't you a naughty little hufflepuff?" "what's your name, Puffy?"

and so, this is how your friendship started.

and yes, at first twins were just curious about you, maybe just their gryffindor blood wanted something new

but nevertheless, it quickly changed into something more real, as they started hanging out with you

you laugh at their jokes, watch their quidditch games and sometimes lightly pack them on their heads when they are being too much of a nuisance. They realized they liked u as a person.

YOUR FRIENDSHIP WITH TWINS LOOKED LIKE;

so, just because you're their friend, doesn't mean they wont try and will prank you

that's why it often ends up in a game of tag; its either them running after you (sometimes you even win and end up safely in Hufflepuff common room!) or you after them (and trying to hex them after they pulled out their prank on you)

but yeah, so many times they tried to go after you to hufflepuff common room and they ended up smelling like vingear!

(you did ended up helping them with the smell anyway. just later, of course)

so u may, or may not, have slipped that u were always wondering how it feels to be kabedon'ed to twins

did they know what that is? no. did u told them? no. did they found out anyways? YES.

and so, this is how it started; your whole week of Weasley twins kabeddoning you in random places at random times.

your reactions were quite enjoyable, so was your flustered expression, which only made them do it again, and again,,,

(you did like it tho. even if u decided not to share that thought with twins...)

when you have classes together you can expect paper bird charm flying your way! Twins would write something or draw something silly. Sometimes just because they are bored, sometimes so they can make you laugh and make teacher reprimand you. Anyway, it's not boring when u share classes

their mom & dad loving you! Of course not as much as they like Harry and Hermione, but you are just behind them! And Molly can't help but appreciate you and your ability to tone down twins (at least sometimes...)

you make them study together with you, of course its not easy and at least half of the time they (okay and you too...) spend talking and giggling, but because of your reward system (after you learn this you can get that), they are a little bit more willing to learn (not much tho)

twins knew that you know a lot of hiding places in Hogwart, so they often include you in their pranks... if only for you to help them turn into right direction

but sometimes things just didn't work out, and you three ended up in detention

that's when twins could see your grumpy, annoyed side

them knowing you're not *seriously* mad at them, meaning they would try to make you laugh, betting who would make you laugh first, and so on

them wanting to prank you but you know better

"Puffie, come on, join us tonight!" the Weasley twins chorused, their grins practically gleaming with mischief. You crossed your arms, eyeing them suspiciously. “No,” you replied flatly, frowning. You knew that look too well. "Pleaaaase," Fred stretched the word out, pouting dramatically. "Don't be a bummer!" George leaned in closer, mischief dancing in his eyes. "Do you want us to beg?" he teased, and then Fred chimed in, smirking. "Are you into men on their knees?" You felt your cheeks heat up as they burst into laughter at your reaction. “Are you willing to be these men?” you shot back, still blushing but fire dancing in your eyes, not wanting to lose to them so openly. But they weren’t done yet. “What if... there’s food?” George asked, his tone suddenly innocent. Your interest piqued. “What food?” you asked, narrowing your eyes. Fred nodded seriously. "Good stuff. Sweet stuff. Whatever you like." “Fine,” you sighed, but you weren’t so easily persuaded. “You have to promise that next time I have a bad morning and I’m grumpy, you’ll hug me. A sandwich hug, at that!” You finished with a grin, proud of yourself. If you were going to be pranked, you might as well get something out of it too. Fred smirked. "Blimey, didn’t know you were so forward, Puff—” You smacked his arm before he could finish, a playful scowl on your face. George chuckled, taking your hand with a grin. "Deal." Of course, it was a prank. But there was food, and was it worth it in the end? Your future self would wholeheartedly agree.

them asking you to bring food for nightly study or just hanging out at night

“Why me? You already know where the kitchen is,” you asked, genuinely curious but not annoyed. “Yeah, but it’s late already, and we’re us, and you’re you,” Fred explained, as if that made perfect sense. “Meaning...?” you prompted, raising an eyebrow. George chuckled, leaning in as if sharing a grand secret. “You’re an innocent Hufflepuff, and we’re mischievous Gryffindors. If a prefect or professor catches us, they’re more likely to let you go, and us... well, you know how it usually ends.” He shrugged, grinning widely. You paused, contemplating. It made a strange kind of sense. It was a bit unfair, sure, but if you could turn it to your advantage, wasn’t that fair in its own way? “Mhmm, we’ll see. What do you want?” you asked, a mischievous smile tugging at your lips.

so yes, they would also sometimes 'use your hufflepuff self" for making things easier for them. and hey! at first it worked perfectly! But after a while, prefect and professors caught on that you're not as innocent as you seem, and you are friends with Weasley twins in more ways than they thought

one time they pranked you by making your hair [color], thinking you would get angry, but you just shrugged and decided that it looks nice on you, and you're keeping it for time being

so yeah, they wouldn't think so at first, but somehow, you match them perfectly!

ROUTE A (GEORGE WEASLEY)

ROUTE B (FRED WEASLEY)

#weasley twins x reader #weasley twins x hufflepuff reader #fred weasley x hufflepuff reader #george weasley x hufflepuff reader #fred weasley x reader #george weasley x reader #fred weasley x hufflepuff!reader #george weasley x hufflepuff!reader #hufflepuff #hufflepuff reader #hufflepuff pride #gryffinpuff

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honeygrahambitch · 3 months ago

Text

"Will, can you get my wallet, please? It's in the right pocket of my jacket." Hannibal asked. He was on the balcony of their beach house in Greece, which had been their shelter for the whole month.

"Yeah." Will replied from inside. He was about to join Hannibal on the balcony as soon as he would bring the whiskey bottle. It had become their habit to have a drink while watching the sunset.

Will grabbed Hannibal's jacket and searched in the said pocket. His hand froze when he reached an easily recognizable object.

He pulled it out hesitantly. A ring. Then his heart sank. Not any ring. It was Will's wedding ring. He had taken it off after they had fallen off the cliff. Why was Hannibal keeping it? Why was he keeping something that would remind him of Molly?

Will forgot about the wallet and the bottle and went directly outside, holding the ring in the palm of his hand.

"Why are you keeping this?"

Hannibal had a content expression on his face. He didn't look surprised by Will's finding.

"Just a reminder of the time where I lost you." He said casually.

"It's not that."

Hannibal looked at him thoughtfully. So sharp and perceptive, he could see right through him.

"Just a reminder of how easily you can walk away from me." Hannibal corrected himself.

And it was the truth.

He had not lost Will. Will had rejected him and manipulated him into surrendering. The ring was nothing more but a reminder of the efemerity of what they had been building together in the last weeks.

Just like that, Will threw the ring into the sea which was right below their balcony.

"No need to burden yourself with that, Hannibal." Will said. "It wasn't easy to walk away then and it would be impossible now."

Hannibal watched the whole scene with a content expression on his face. The ring would never see the light of the day again.

The gesture itself freed Hannibal from one of his greatest fears. And he was sure Will knew that.

"I still need my wallet." Hannibal said. "Earlier this morning I found a little seashell that I thought you might appreciate."

#hannibal #hannigram #hannibal lecter #will graham #hannibal nbc #hannibal fanfiction

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roosterforme · 1 year ago

Text

Batting Practice Part 31 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Nothing melts Bradley's heart quite like Everett's excitement for his upcoming adoption. While the three of you count down to the big day, there are unexpected houseguests to deal with and neverending happiness to absorb.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, smut

Length: 5200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

"Mom! Dad!" Everett shouted, running up the sidewalk when Molly arrived to drop him off at home on Monday evening. "Aunt Molly said I'm getting a baby cousin in March!"

Bradley watched as Molly hustled along the sidewalk behind Everett, and he went to meet her to get his soon to be son's overnight bag. "Thanks for watching him for the weekend," Bradley said, looping the bag over his shoulder while he thought about how sexy you'd looked in Palm Springs wearing your collar and leash. Then he glanced at where you were giving Everett a big hug on the front porch, and he thought about how hot you were even in full mom mode.

"We had fun," Molly said, stifling a yawn. "Bob took him on a hike, and then we did math problems with gummy bears. He's all ready to start second grade." Then she grinned at Bradley and said, "You owe me one for packing your wife's weekend bag with you in mind."

Bradley grunted, cracking his knuckles to try to keep his composure. Only about two more hours until Everett was in bed for the night and he could have his Kitten all to himself. "Yeah, I definitely owe you one."

Molly clasped her hands in front of her baby bump, clearly very pleased that he had enjoyed his wedding gift. Then she bent to kiss Everett and tell him goodbye. "I'll call you after your first day of school tomorrow, Ev. Love you."

"Bye, Aunt Molly!" Everett waved as Bradley's sister-in-law drove away.

Bradley scooped Everett up in his arms and followed you inside. While he had enjoyed the two nights away with you immensely, he missed Ev's laugh and his smile so much. "Pancakes for dinner? And then I'll show you the baseball jersey we got for you in Palm Springs?"

"Yes!" Everett cheered. And then as he helped Bradley mix some chocolate chips into the pancake batter with a spoon, he asked, "Did you adopt me yet?"

"Oh," Bradley grunted, pausing to really look at Ev. Wide, sincere eyes looked back up at him. He thought back to the very first day of tee ball, remembering just how much he really liked talking to Everett right from the start. How he only grew to appreciate him more and more. And he let himself feel all of the overwhelming love right now that he had for this kid. "I wish, Ev. Your mom has to call some people first, and make a few appointments. It might take a few weeks." Bradley didn't want to tell him that it might be next year before anything was finalized.

"Okay," he replied, and his shoulders slumped with dejection. "But I thought it would be cool to tell everyone at school tomorrow that I got a dad over the summer."

Bradley wrapped him in a hug and just held him for a few seconds. "You can still tell them that. I'm your dad, for sure, kiddo. It doesn't matter if it's not official yet."

"Okay," Everett whispered against Bradley's chest. "But when can I write my name is Everett Bradshaw?"

Anything. Anything in the world. Bradley would do anything for this kid. As he held him and thought about how much his life had changed, he figured the fact that he would do whatever it took to make Everett feel happy and loved was enough to make him a good dad. He'd learn all the other details over time. He would probably make more mistakes and inadvertently teach Ev more bad words. But he would do anything for him.

Bradley kissed the top of his head. "Not quite yet. But you know what? You and your mom can probably both start using Bradshaw for your last name around the same time, so that's good, right?" he asked, his voice not much more than a harsh whisper. Everett hugged him tighter, and Bradley didn't ever want to let go, because he found as much comfort in these hugs as Ev seemed to.

And then that was when you walked into the kitchen to find Bradley with tears in his eyes as Everett clung to him.

"I thought we were trying on our new jerseys?" you asked, and Bradley pulled you into the hug as well.

He smothered your face in kisses before he said, "That's for after dinner. And then we're gonna pack Ev's bag for school and watch Toy Story. But first just let me hold you both."

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

The next day was pure chaos. Everett begged Bradley to drop him off at school on his way to North Island, and on your way to work, you answered your phone when you saw that Molly was calling. She was crying.

"What's wrong?" you asked her, trying to navigate your way through traffic, thinking you may have to turn around and head to her condo.

"Bob's being deployed," she sobbed, and your heart clenched.

"When?"

"In a few weeks," she said, sniffling into the phone. "I can't do this without him."

You assumed she meant she couldn't handle her pregnancy on her own, but when you tried to ask, she just cried louder. You could barely understand what she was saying, and you already knew you were going to have to have a conversation with Bradley about having her stay at your house.

"Molly, it's going to be okay. You'll be great, and I'll be around to help you. And so will Bradley."

She laughed through her tears. "My turd-in-law likes me now, because I didn't pack any real clothing for your honeymoon."

You rolled your eyes. "He has always liked you. I think that just made him like you more. Let me call you back later tonight?"

"Okay." Molly's voice was soft and small as you ended the call, and you hated hearing her like that. But you had other important things to take care of.

As you parked your car and made your way into your office, you rolled your eyes at Frank. You had bigger things to deal with than him. Once you were settled at your desk, you debated with yourself about which phone call to make first: Danny or your lawyer. You decided on Danny, and when he answered after seven rings with a groggy hello, you got right to the point.

"Any chance you were planning on responding to the petition I sent you for child support?"

You could practically hear him rolling his eyes, and now you were thankful you caught him first thing in the morning. "I have one hundred and twenty days to comply. And that's according to my expensive lawyer that you're forcing me to pay for. I hope you realize that this would mean there's less money for Everett."

Now you were the one rolling your eyes. "It's already been months, Danny."

"I have one hundred and twenty days," he reiterated, practically snarling at you through the phone. "You'll hear more about it when I'm good and ready. I still can't believe you're trying to destroy my life like this. You weren't money hungry prior to a few months ago. And I could still have that tee ball boyfriend of yours charged for entering my home without permission."

"He's my husband now," you said, keeping your voice as steady as possible.

"Good for you," he replied with a sarcastic chuckle.

"You're right. It's very good for me," you said, raising your voice over his horrible laughter. "I was just calling to let you know that you're about to be served with some papers that will negate the child support petition. And if you don't comply with what I want, I'll drag you through the legal system until you're out of money."

The line went silent, and you had to bite your tongue, forcing him to be the first one to speak again. "What the fuck do you want?"

You took a deep breath and thought about your husband and your son and your sister and how much love was in your life now. "I would like to give you exactly what you hoped for: nothing. I can remove Everett and myself from your life completely if you agree to do something for me."

After another long pause, Danny said, "Name your terms."

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

Bradley was anxious to learn how your conversation with your lawyer had gone. But when he got home, it was just you there in your little black skirt and high heels, standing in the kitchen sipping a bottle of tequila.

"Whoa," he said, rushing toward you and taking the bottle out of your hand. But you were smiling.

"I was going to make us some margaritas, but I got carried away," you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him. Bradley tasted the tang of the liquor on your lips and tongue.

"Does this mean you have good news, Kitten?" He was holding you tight to him, forehead pressed to yours as he waited, hoping to hear what would make him happier than anything else right now.

"What are you doing eight weeks from today?" you asked, raking your fingers gently along his scalp.

"Baby, if you don't tell me right now that I get to adopt Ev in eight weeks, I'm going to cry."

You smiled and pressed your lips to his. "You get to adopt Ev eight weeks from today. We have the date set at the courthouse."

"How?" he asked as his eyes filled with tears. "How did I get this lucky? In less than a week, I got myself a wife and a court date!"

He wasn't sure how he could be this happy and also be crying so much. But when you told him that you got Danny to agree to your terms, he had to wipe away his tears even though he was smiling.

"Where's Ev now?" he asked, kissing along your neck, overcome with so much relief.

"Molly picked him up from school. She's going to bring him home after dinner."

"So, we're alone?" he asked, smiling against the curve of your jaw and hiking up your skirt. "We're alone. Until I invite Molly to come stay with us while Bob is deployed."

Bradley's hand's froze on the bare backs of your thighs. "I'm sorry, what?"

You kissed and nipped at his lips, but he pulled a few inches away from you. "Bob is being deployed."

"Yeah," he replied. "I got that part."

You rolled your eyes and started to unzip his flight suit. "And Molly is going to be lonely and overwhelmed, and I think she might want to come here for a few weeks."

Bradley groaned. "You can't follow up the good news about Everett with this devastating announcement, Kitten."

"Bradley!" you scolded, playfully smacking his chest as he yanked your skirt up until he was palming your ass.

"All I'm saying is that Molly is like this annoying little sister that I never wanted, and even though I do love her, she's going to cramp our style, Baby."

"How so?" you asked, easing your hand down the front of his flight suit and stroking his cock.

"She'll have to sleep in the Phillies room," he whispered. "You know that's where we've been having our quickies."

"Hmm, you're right about that, Coach. Think I could change your mind with a blowjob?"

Bradley grunted and thrust against your hand. He tilted your chin up and kissed you. "Your lips on my cock could get me to agree to anything, and you know it."

You nodded at him with all the confidence in the world before you sank to your knees.

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

Spending several weeks waiting was not ideal. Everett was asking nearly every day if it was almost November yet. Now it was barely October, but the three of you had gotten into a routine. Bradley made breakfast every morning while you packed lunches. Then he dropped Everett off at school, and you went to work a little early. When you picked Everett up from school, most days it was just so he could rush through his homework and dinner and spend an hour or two at the park playing and practicing baseball with Bradley.

Your husband was true to his promises. And he seemed to like practicing baseball as much as Everett did. When you joined them one day, the October air was cool enough to trick you into believing you could be somewhere besides southern California. And Everett was hitting Bradley's pitches so hard, it was unbelievable.

"I thought you were the famous Bradshaw?" you called out, teasing Bradley before he threw a pitch. "Don't you pitch for the Navy league? That second grader is kicking your butt."

He glared at you out of the corner of his eye and then dropped his ball and glove and chased you until he caught you in his arms. Your laughter was so loud as he kissed you and tickled you, and you tried to get away, but he was too strong.

"I take it back! I take it back!" you gasped, out of breath from laughing. "You're amazing! The best pitcher I've ever seen."

He conceded by hugging you from behind instead of tickling you. Then he whispered, "I'm not even kidding, Kitten, he's so fucking good at baseball." Then he kissed you one last time and returned to pitch a slider to Everett who looked permanently happy these days. And when he hit the pitch easily, you realized you were permanently happy, too.

But that night, you had to deal with the thing you knew was coming at some point. It was late, and you were in bed with Bradley's mouth on your pussy. You were close, so so so close. But your phone kept ringing softly on your nightstand, and you could tell it was Molly by the ringtone.

"Don't answer it," Bradley grunted, licking a long stripe from your opening to your clit. "You can call her back when I'm done with you."

So you laced your fingers through his pretty curls and rode his face, whining his name as your phone started ringing again. Bradley slowed down his tempo, just like he knew you needed, and when he wrapped his lips around your clit, that prickle of his mustache on your sensitive skin sent you. He squeezed your thighs as you planted your feet, and you came so hard, you were seeing stars. Your knee was shaking. He was unrelenting. Your vision blurred every time you blinked, but a beat later, Bradley's body was wrenched away from yours, and he was out the bedroom door and at the top of the steps with a baseball bat in his hand.

Then you heard Molly's soft voice calling up from the bottom of the stairs. "I'm sorry. It's just me."

You tried to scramble for your clothing, but you realized Bradley had undressed you over by the bathroom. And then you realized that he was standing there in his snug underwear with a massive erection, holding the bat like he was about to take someone's head off with it. He must have heard Molly let herself in the house.

As you located your clothing on the floor, Bradley lowered the bat, nodded and said, "Your sister's here."

"Thanks," you told him, yanking your panties on and slipping into his undershirt. You kissed him quickly as you rushed down the stairs and into the living room where she was standing with a tote bag and a bouquet of those hideous flowers she liked so much. She was crying softly.

"I can't," she whispered, and you wrapped your arms around her. "I can't stay there alone another night. I hate being away from Bob. You know what he did? He got the guy from the gas station to deliver the flowers to me today, because it's the six month anniversary of the first time he said he loved me."

"Oh, Molly," you whispered, kissing her forehead.

"He set this shit up before he left!" she wailed. "I don't even know what he's doing today, because I haven't talked to him in a week. A week! And now I interrupted you having sex, and I can tell Bradley's mad at me."

You held her close. "He's not mad at you, Molly. He just thought you were a burglar or something."

"I'm sorry," she moaned, holding the flowers out to the side so they didn't get crushed. Her belly felt like it had gotten bigger since the last time you saw her, and you patted her there which made her smile.

"Stop apologizing. You can stay with us until Bob gets back." You really should have run that past Bradley before you made such a bold declaration, but you knew he wouldn't fuss too much. Probably. So you coaxed Molly into letting you put the flowers in a vase in the kitchen, and then you led her upstairs to where Bradley was wearing a full set of pajamas and brushing his teeth in your bathroom.

"Coach?" you called out to him softly, and he made eye contact with you in the mirror. "She's going to stay with us." You weren't really asking, and he didn't look upset. He just nodded and then spit out the toothpaste.

"I figured," he said, rinsing his mouth and drying his hands. He kissed you and pulled you in for a hug before adding, "I'll go sleep in the Phillies room for the night. Just tonight. That way you can talk to her so she can fall asleep. But after tomorrow morning, it's all red and white and the letter P everywhere for your sister. I don't fucking care how much she misses Bob. Got it?"

"Got it," you told him with a smile. "You're the best husband in the world."

"I know," he said with a grumble, but he was smiling too. And when he passed Molly in the hallway, she was still holding one of the flowers. He kissed her on the forehead without saying anything else, and then he walked into the Phillies room as Molly climbed in bed with you.

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

Everett was up so early on Halloween, Bradley needed to drink two cups of coffee just to keep up with him. "If you're this excited now, I don't know if it's a good idea for you to be collecting copious amounts of candy later." He raised the mug to his lips again as you and Molly walked into the kitchen.

The three of you watched Everett bounce over to the white board on the refrigerator and update it to say that there were just ten days left until his adoption. That meant that Bob would be home in nine days. That also meant that Molly would be out of here in nine days or less, and that did indeed bring a smile to Bradley's face.

It wasn't that he didn't like Molly. He actually loved her. Everett was obsessed with his Aunt Molly, and she loved spending time with him. She was fun and witty, and it brought Bradley joy to pick on her. But she was also messy, and she was eating all of their food, and he couldn't walk around in his underwear as much as he had gotten used to.

But last night, she'd happily taken Everett out for dinner and to the movies for a few hours with Bradley's credit card. And you'd worn your collar and leash for him along with your cat ears and tail, and holy shit, he needed to stop thinking about it right now.

"Morning, Kitten," he grunted as he poured you some coffee.

"Ten more days!" Everett shouted.

"Nine more days!" Molly shouted.

But you bit your lip and pulled a piece of mail out of the tray on the counter. "I thought it would be more fun to open this when we were all together," you said, tearing into the envelope and holding up your new social security card. "But I'm officially a Bradshaw."

"Yes!" Bradley whooped, hoisting you up into his arms as you squealed. Molly and Ev did an obnoxious dance across the kitchen as Bradley kissed your neck and ear while you chanted Bradshaw, Bradshaw.

"Everett will be next! I'm buying us one of those stupid flags people hang from their porch with their last name on it, I don't even care," you said as Bradley set you down, and his lips found yours.

"I love you, Kitten."

That evening, as the four of you got ready to go trick-or-treating, Bradley pulled on his Navy Waves uniform and then buttoned you into one of his Phillies jerseys.

"You'll have to borrow this until we can get you some Phillies gear of your own, Mrs. Bradshaw. Don't spill anything on this one," he muttered. "It's vintage."

You rolled your eyes so hard and then said, "No eating chocolate in it then?"

"No, no, no, absolutely no chocolate. This belonged to my dad."

"Oh," you gasped as he did up the last button. "Then I can't wear it tonight! It's too special."

You reached for the buttons, but Bradley stopped you with his larger hands. "Nah, it's okay, Kitten. Ol' Goose would have wanted you to wear it. I think he'd be happy to see me with you and Ev right now." Actually, Bradley knew both of his parents would have loved you and adored Everett. It was hard for him to think about the way Carole would have doted on her grandson.

The look of awe on your face as you said, "Thank you. No chocolate," made Bradley chuckle.

Then Molly's booming voice in the hallway had you pulling the door open to reveal her standing there dressed as a pregnant umpire. "Are you ready to rumble?!" she shouted into a bullhorn that had you and Bradley covering your ears while Everett chanted and cheered.

"Baseball umpires don't use bullhorns! And they don't say that!" Bradley shouted over the ruckus, but when he reached for it, Molly yanked it away from him.

"This one does," she said into the speaker, and Bradley thought one of them might not make it back tonight.

But it was so hard to be annoyed when the four of you looked like you were ready to play baseball. And then Bradley had you take a photo of him kneeling down on the porch next to Everett dressed as a Phillies player. The photo was so sweet, he immediately set it as his lock screen.

"Are we ready to go?" Molly asked using the bullhorn, and Bradley gritted his teeth. "Ev, that's a foul for looking so cute in your Halloween costume. You owe me a Snickers bar for that."

"That's not what umpires do," Bradley ground out, digging around in the massive bowl of candy that you had set on the porch steps, searching for the only thing that might make Molly stop.

"And my sister gets a red card for leaving the candy on the porch," she added through the speaker. "That'll get stolen by the first kid that comes by. Rookie mistake. I used to do that with my friends."

You just shook your head as Bradley said, "There aren't even red cards-"

But Molly turned the horn toward him. "And Bradley gets a foul for being a turd."

But then his fingers wrapped around the king sized Hershey's bar and he waved it in her face. "I'll trade you this for the bullhorn, Molly. Make good decisions."

She eyed him with trepidation, but he knew that candy was her weakness now more than ever. She'd finished a whole bag of fun sized Kit Kats two nights ago, and Bradley had to go to Target to replenish the Halloween supply. When Molly lunged for the Hershey's bar, Bradley quickly grabbed the bullhorn and shoved it discreetly into the shrubs as she immediately opened the wrapper.

And after that, he had a pretty great night. Everett collected three pillowcases full of candy, and Molly ate it along the way while she repeatedly yelled, "Strike three, you're out!" every time Bradley tried to give you a kiss. But he was happy that Molly was having a night where she wasn't constantly thinking about Bob.

"Can we get a family photo next to that huge inflatable pumpkin?" you asked, pointing at the lawn decoration in front of the last house on the street. Everett went running for the pumpkin, all hopped up on sugar.

"Yep," Bradley said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. Molly held her hand out to take it from him, but he shook his head. "You need to be in the family photo, too." So he flagged down another dad who agreed to take the picture for them, and you slipped your arm around his waist and gave him a kiss just after the photo was taken.

"Thanks, Coach," you whispered, your soft voice right next to his ear.

"Thanks, turd," Molly told him, trying to hide the tears she was swiping at as she turned to chase Everett down the sidewalk yelling about interference and personal fouls.

But it was after everyone got home and Everett and Molly were sound asleep that Bradley's night got even better. He was tired, he really was, but as soon as you very carefully unbuttoned and removed his vintage Phillies jersey, you looked at him and licked your lips.

"Kitten?" he asked softly, his cock already very interested in what might be happening next.

You closed your eyes and said, "I bought something I wanted to try on for you."

Bradley groaned, ready to beg. "Yes," he grunted, and you were pushing him toward the bed as he got undressed down to his underwear.

"Close your eyes. No peeking," you whispered, turning on the soft bedside lamp and turning off the overhead light. So he closed his eyes and listened to you flitting around the room, opening drawers and the closet door. His hand was down the front of his boxer shorts, and he was stroking himself when he felt your warm lips meet his. He moaned softly, "Can I look yet, Kitten?"

Once you were straddling his waist, your ass rubbing his cock through his underwear, you whispered, "My name is Lieutenant Kitten," and his eyes opened immediately. You were wearing his khaki uniform shirt, complete with his Bradshaw name tag. His favorite pair of aviators were perched low on your nose, and his dog tags were tucked between your breasts, hidden by the shirt.

"You're the sexiest naval officer I have ever seen," Bradley promised, skimming his rough fingertips down your soft thigh, bent knee and calf. He smirked as you raised his hand to your lips and kissed his wedding band. "Lieutenant Kitten."

As you leaned forward to kiss his lips, Bradley noticed some dark green lace peeking out from the collar of the khaki shirt, and he started working on the buttons as you licked the seam of his lips.

He felt the fabric before he saw it. You were covered in green lace from your tits down to your pussy, and he was already nudging it to the side, dying to know how wet you were.

"You're in charge, Lieutenant," he whispered, his voice harsh. "What would you like me to do?"

"You better make me cum."

He moaned as you lifted your hips, and he slipped that finger right inside you. So warm and silky. The bodysuit fit you like a dream, and you were leaning back, hands on his thighs, letting him watch your pussy sink down around two of his fingers now. You were rolling your hips slowly, making Bradley throb, but he was determined to give you exactly what you wanted first.

God, had you ever been this wet before? You were practically dripping. "Does that feel good, Lieutenant?" he asked.

"Keep going. Keep going."

With three fingers now inside you and his thumb on your clit, Bradley worked you over at a leisurely pace that had him almost in a trance. The way you were moving looked obscene, like he was viewing something so sexy, so filthy, it was taboo. He was barely moving his hand now, just listening to your little grunts and moans as they got louder while you fucked yourself on his hand.

"God damn," he whispered, tapping your clit softly each time you withdrew to his fingertips, earning him a little gasp.

"Bradley," you whined, getting a little louder now as you tilted your head forward to look him in the eye. Your grip tightened on his thighs, and his cock was demanding a fair share of your body, but he could tell you were close to orgasm.

"Baby," he whined, your slick coating him and glistening as you rocked your body forward one, two, three more times, and then your pussy clenched, grabbing at his fingers. "Fuck."

"Oh my god!" you whined, lips parted, gasping as you jerked yourself along his fingers.

"I need to fuck you," he said, nodding his head. "Please?"

"Yes," you gasped, easing yourself onto your back, legs spread wide. He pushed that little bit of green lace to the side and coated his cock with the wetness on his hand, and then he fucked you. And he fucked you so hard, your back arched. And then he fucked you even harder, your tits bouncing free of the bodysuit while he shoved his still slick fingers into your mouth to keep you quiet.

He didn't last; he knew he wouldn't. Not with you in brand new lingerie and his shirt. Not with the chain of his dog tags tangled up with your paw print necklace. He filled you up with his cum as he leaned down, easing his fingers out of your mouth and replacing them with his tongue. Everything was back to that languid pace you'd set earlier as you dragged your fingers through his hair and tasted his mouth.

Bradley pulled away to look at your pretty face, and you smiled as you ran your fingers along the scars on his cheek. "Did you enjoy your Halloween, Coach?"

With a kiss to the tip of your nose, Bradley pulled himself free from your body and collected you against his chest. He carefully leaned back against his pillow, holding you close with you still in his khaki shirt. "I did," he said thoughtfully, rubbing your arm. "I...well, I know it's kind of silly, but the last time I spent a Halloween with my dad was when I was three, and now I'm a dad."

"That's not silly," you told him. "And you're not just any dad. You're the best."

He held you tight. "You think Ev is going to make us dress as baseball players again next year?"

"Oh, one hundred percent."

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

Just two more parts left now! Thanks so much for reading! If there's something for Coach, Kitten and Ev that you're hoping to see, hit me up. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and thank you for the banner @mak-32

PART 32

Don't forget to check out Bob and Molly in The Curveball!

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abihastastybeans · 3 months ago

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Jily week - Day 2 - Partners in crime

@kay-elle-cee @sunshinemarauder

Heavy footsteps thundering down the stairs made Lily look away from the morning rays filtering through their bedroom screen. A knock sounded on the door.

"Come in," she called.

Harry opened the door, looking all disheveled, clutching a letter tight in his hand. His T-shirt was inside out.

"Mum," he said. "Ron's written back saying he'll be here, along with Ginny, sometime after breakfast."

"Oh, good," Lily settled back against the headboard. "Gives us enough time to get up and going, then."

"Er, yeah," Harry replied, uncertainly. He tried to appear calm but his fidgeting told her otherwise. "Did you already know that Ginny was coming along?"

Lily hid a smile. "Yes," she replied, nonchalantly. "Yes, I told Molly I'd give her a hand with Ginny's school shopping. That way she doesn't have to make the trip to Diagon Alley as well."

"Oh."

Her eyes were drawn to the bathroom door as James walked into the room, toweling his hair. He smiled seeing their son.

"Morning, Harry," he said, ruffling Harry's hair as he walked by him. He was now almost as tall as his father, having grown more than a foot during the summer. "Ron's letter?"

Harry ducked away from James, and combed his hand through his wild mop, trying to get it to lay down. "Yeah..."

"Ron and Ginny will be here after breakfast," Lily piped up from her comfortable place on the bed. "We can leave as soon as they're here."

"Oh, good," James said appreciatively. "By the way, Harry, I almost forgot," he turned to Harry with a twinkle in his eyes. "I'm taking mum out for lunch once we're done with your shopping. I hope you don't mind us leaving you alone for a while."

Lily watched amused as a faint blush appeared on their teenaged son's face. "Yeah, it's-" he cleared his throat, "-it's alright. Sure." Avoiding their eyes, he quickly retreated from the room, the bounding footsteps and the thud of a door closing following his wake.

James turned to look at Lily at once. "Did you see his face?" he laughed.

Lily grinned. "Poor thing, had to stress himself about all that as soon as he woke up."

"He looks just like you," James said, fondly.

Lily scrunched her nose. "What're you on about? He's your clone."

"No," James shook his head and walked to the bed, "It's exactly the same way you acted when you didn't wanted to admit your feelings."

Lily chuckled and pulled him by his hand. The bed dipped where James' leaned his weight. "Did you really plan a lunch or was that just your ploy to get them alone?" She asked.

"What do you think?" James smiled, cupping her face, and pressing a soft kiss on her lips.

#jily week 2024 #jily #abi's fic

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rimunagenius · 6 months ago

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So Bad

ʚ pairing: Kate Martin x Roommate!reader

ʚ word count: 2.5k

ʚ warning: RPF!! , slight angst?, fluff, sexual tension, two idiots inlove trope

ʚ rimunagenius speaks: sorry this took too long to put out guys…i’ve been trying to write but it’s been so stressful since i broke my foot. i missed a whole week of school so i was trying to catch up and do homework, while doing the current assignment, while doing college classes, and trying to write…it’s been ROUGH. anyways…hope you like this!! it’s a little short but the next part is gonna be long !! just a heads up

Part 5

| Series Masterlist |

The plane ride to Albany was a little tense. You wanted to go in support of the team because this was a game on neutral ground. You guys had made it to the elite eight and that was something you all wanted but had to fight like hell to get. You were only an assistant trainer, theoretically, you didn't have to be here, but you wanted to be here for Kate and the girls. Your best friends. The girls managed to make sweet sixteen and won, and now it was time for the elite eight.

You and Kate haven't talked about the night in your living room. You guys just seemed to pick back up where it was to begin with. Jada thought it was great but was also concerned about the will of self-control you two had to have.

Caitlin eventually found out, pressing Kate about why she had been a ray of sunshine for the last month. She had become the biggest shipper and supporter of you both. Her, Jada, and now Gabbie had known and it felt okay. No hard feelings or bitterness.

"What room are you staying in tonight?" Kate whispered as she tried to put her face in the small gap between your seat and the side of the plane, you both having window seats in stacked rows.

"Uh, might have to delete this from the vlog, Kate." You give her a small pointed look as you turn your body, pointing to the small camera you had been using to record a vlog for an Athletic Trainers day in the life.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry." Kate laughed, knowing how that might have sounded.

"No, it's fine. But I'm technically under staff, not a student, so I'm staying on the same floor as Lisa, the assistant coaches, and other staff. Why?" She had a small frown after she realized you guys weren't on the same floor tonight.

"Because I want to sleep close to you." You were quite confused as she had never had this issue before. It was okay on past travel games because she had Caitlin or Jada, but she was sort of attached to your hip since that night, but you didn't think it was going to be a problem.

You looked around, seeing AJ and Molly asleep right next to you, before looking back into the crack between your seats. "Isn't that against the whole, not starting a relationship thing, Kate?" You gave her a soft smile, finding it cute and endearing that she wanted to be close to you.

"I never said we had to share the same bed, I just said I wanted to be close to you. You know, like the apartment?" Your guys' rooms were right next to each other's in the apartment back home.

"I promise you'll be okay Kate. You can call me in the morning and I'll go to your room to get ready if you want me to?” You suggested, turning your camera completely off after you stopped recording. You set it down inside the bag at your feet before sliding on your headphones.

You had Chappel Roan playing, the irony in the song that was blasting through your beats, ‘Good Luck Babe!’, and your arm resting on the armrest where you had previously had your face talking to Kate when you felt a hand tap your forearm. You lifted your head from resting on your fist and looked down. Her hand extended palm to you. You frowned softly, appreciating the small acts of affection Kate was always willing to give you.

You got up on your knees, and looked over the seat, spotting Kate's head resting against the back of your seat, looking down on her phone, sacrificing better posture just to simply be close with you. You sat back down normally, sparing your exposure to spying on Kate, and placed your hand in hers. You two interlocked your fingers and held hands.

You both knew this wasn't out of the ordinary. But something felt so different about it this time. Knowing the connection you two share and the love you two have for one another is something that hangs a thick fog of tension and uncertainty about what to do with all the emotions. You took a picture of your hands, wanting to capture the small moments of intimacy.

You truly loved this girl with your whole heart and you were so willing to give it all to her if she wanted it.

A free day in Albany was granted before getting back to work the next day. So the staff, including you, and the team were free to explore together or separately. It was a lot of the girls' first time in New York so everyone wanted to go sightseeing. You had been looking for an outfit to wear, not much to throw together since you packed a lot of lounging clothes and your Hawkeye gear for the games, when there was a knock at your door. You assumed it was Jada having talked to her on the phone not that long ago talking about getting ready, letting her know what room you were in. "Coming, Jada!" You shouted from the edge of your bed, throwing your clothes back in your suitcase.

"Not Jada." Kate smiled when you opened the door for her and let her in. You laughed and told her it was because you were also expecting Jada.

"Kate, I cannot find an outfit." You looked too stressed for a small team exploration outing. You sighed as you proceeded to dig through the suitcase some more.

"Relax, you'll find something. Let me see what you have." Kate walked over, standing impossibly close next to you while she helped neatly pick out clothes and placed them on the bed still neatly folded. She picked what seemed to be your black flare leggings and your all-black long-sleeve. "That's cute. What shoes did you bring?"

You looked at her, jaw dropped. There was no way the most plain, midwestern masc, was dressing you in something cute. You pointed to the black and yellow dunks that the Iowa staff gifted you this season. "Okay, wear those shoes with your Iowa puffer vest? Basic but still you." Kate shrugged, mumbling a small 'I don't know though.'

"I love it. Thank you, Kate." You smiled softly, disappearing into the bathroom. She nodded softly, before sitting down on the edge of the bed, placing some clothes back into your suitcase, before sipping on the water she had in her hands. Your phone pinged.

Notification from Jada, texting she was on the way up to the room. "Jada's on her way," Kate said, pausing after seeing your lock screen. The picture of you and Kate holding hands. Her cheeks turned red, sudden butterflies in her belly and her palms growing clammy, it didn't help you came out of the bathroom, fully dressed. You looked so beautiful…she was in deep.

"How do I look?" You asked, posing with hands on your hips. You saw how red her face was, and the way she just slowly dragged her eyes up your body. It made you shuffle of nervousness, suddenly so nervous under her gaze.

"So gorgeous, sunshine." The nickname gave you butterflies, not having heard in a while. Not since before you confessed your feelings to her. Suddenly that name felt like you were carrying a new title to her.

"You think? Looks like you know to dress after all." You teased, and she stood up before taking your hand and spinning you.

"Oh, yup! This fit is so cute!" She needed to act normal, especially before Jada came in and noticed the tension between the two of you. It's like you both just wanted to hurry up time and get to the good part. You wanted each other so bad but you two made a deal. After the tourney, you could be together. You were almost there.

You spun back around to face her, immediately wanting to kiss her. You two stood so close, your self-control wearing thin as you saw her eyes dart from each of your eyes, down to your lips, and doing it all over again. One hand of hers now ghosting your hip, wanting to pull you in closer.

"We can't, remember?" You don't know why you said it. You should've let it happen. You could've but Kate said you two should wait, so you needed to say something.

"Why not?" Her whisper sounded desperate.

"Because you said so."

"When do you ever listen to me anyways, gorgeous?" Her lips were so impossibly close to yours, you damn near almost fell to your knees. Her other hand found your waist, her slowly inching your chest against hers when a knock on the door was heard.

She dropped her hands from you, your body already missing the feeling of her and the sensation she forced through your whole body. Catching your breath, you walked to the door and opened it for Jada who was accompanied by Gabbie and Caitlin.

"You guys ready to sightsee!" Caitlin's enthusiasm through the roof as always, made you laugh as you walked away from the door to grab your shoes next to your bed. You didn't miss the way Kate watched you saunter through the room. Neither did everyone else.

"Yes, I just need my shoes, and I'm good to go." You slid your shoes on, grabbed your purse, and ready to walk out the door. The three girls walked out, you following. You felt a hand grab yours, pulling you back slightly.

In turn, a piece of hair fell into your face, Kate wasted no time in moving it back to the side of your face before handing you your phone and room key. "Left it charging, and this right next to it."

"Oh, thank you." You both were blushing. You two always seemed to be whenever you were around each other. Something about the other just made your body have a reaction, instantly feeling warm and welcomed in the other's presence. You two truly couldn't describe it, but you both knew it was real.

You five spent the whole day walking into local coffee shops, and boutiques and just enjoying the scenery that Albany had to offer. You guys ended the night in front of billboards of Caitlin, taking pictures of her and her success and the impact she's had on the game. You all took pictures of each other and with each other. One of your favorites was you on Caitlin's back, kissing her cheek, while she did her signature hands out in front of her billboard where she's shooting her record-breaking logo three.

You guys even got strangers to take pictures of all of you lined up with each other. You guys were having so much fun. Missing days where basketball wasn’t the main focus for once.

"Hey, we're going to go to that place real fast, Gabbie wants lemonade and I want a soda." Jada told you before she and Gabbie walked off. You looked to check on Caitlin, who was taking pictures with fans, making sure she was alright. Some fans were acting crazy earlier that day.

You and Kate kept pointing at places you could see from where you were standing. "Oh my god, are you Kate Martin?" A girl walked up to Kate, she couldn't have been older than twelve and she looked so amazed at the six-foot blonde next to you.

"Yeah! What's your name?" Kate was beaming, she loved kids. There weren't many in her family aside from little cousins but she didn't see them often, just Carson, but he wasn't old enough to talk yet.

"I'm Audrey. But I'm a huge fan. Everyone likes Caitlin, and I do too, but I think you're pretty cool too." Audrey was nervous.

"Oh, my. Thank you, so much! I bet you're pretty cool, too." Kate bent down, trying her best to stay at eye level for the girl so she didn't have to look up.

Two adults approached you guys, who you assumed to be Audrey's parents, and smiled as their daughter beamed at meeting her favorite player. "Sorry, she spotted you and took off. I hope she's not bothering you, guys." The parents apologized, not wanting their daughter to invade your guy's space, especially Kate's.

"No, not at all! She's so sweet." You said, smiling at the girl.

"Can I get a picture?" Audrey asked.

'Of course you can!" Kate was excited that people noticed her too. She’s used to be in the shadow of Caitlin, and she was happy there. But to know that people loved her as much as you and the team did was another level of belonging she loved to feel. The parents pulled out their phones and took a picture of their daughter. A smile on all of your faces.

"I can take a picture of all of you if you want it?" You offered, wanting the parents to have the memory like their daughter, and the evidence to go with it. They thanked you as you took a picture of the family with Kate.

You could tell this was a good experience for Kate. You loved to see her being recognized for the skills she also brings to Iowa women's basketball. It was cool to see it outside of Iowa too. Kate and the girl said goodbye, but not before signing the girl's white Converse. She wasn't going to leave without it. I wouldn’t either fr…

That's when Caitlin came back, sighing after all the photo ops she just partook in. "Cait, I know you're tired but lets get a pic with us three?" You asked softly, a warm smile hoping to convince the girl.

"Oh my god. Let me take a picture of you guys. I can't be in another picture…if I am I don't know if I can do it without wanting to smash my own head with the phone." You laughed out loud, Kate hunched over laughing next to you. Your cheeks are now red, from the breeze and the laughter, Kate with her beautiful wide smile you adored, smiled for the picture. Caitlin said something else behind the camera, you didn't catch it but the look on her face made you giggle, so you turned your head when she took the picture.

"Aw, man! Take another one, I moved." You pouted before moving closer to Kate's side, smiling wide. After the pictures were taken, you looked at them while you three waited for Jada and Gabbie to get back so you could start heading to the hotel. You scrolled to the first one, butterflies in your stomach when you saw your head tucked in close to Kate, her smiling big into the camera. It was so cute, you didn't have the heart to trash it, the next one was normal, and the last one was you smiling at the camera and Kate looking down at you.

This was definitely your new favorite picture. You sent the pictures to her, listening to her phone ding as they came through. A soft smile on her face as she looked at them. You sent her the last one, with a small text.

sunshine ☀️💕

"You look like you're in love with me, Martin."

bear <3

"Kinda hard not to be."

Neither of you couldn't stop smiling the rest of the night.

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mollyappreciationweek · 2 months ago

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It's Coming Soon...

Okay, so not super soon, but soon enough! We'll be doing another prompt-a-thon with just sentence prompts this round! I'll have more information on how to get prompts, the AO3 collection and all that closer to December, but I know I forgot the February round due to my homelessness situation/computer situation and I wanted to let you all know I did not plan to miss the December round as well.

#molly hooper #molly hooper appreciation #molly hooper appreciation week #sherlock #signal boost #fandom event #prompt event

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emeritusemeritus · 1 year ago

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Nice sweater. [Fred Weasley x Reader]

Image found on Pinterest.

Title: Nice Sweater

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader (established relationship)

Timeline: Non-specified. Set after Christmas break.

Summary: Draco tries to wind you up about your handmade sweater from Molly and gets firmly put in his place.

Warnings: Draco being antagonistic. Derogatory comments about wealth. Mentions of shagging. Brief mentions of physical abuse and scars.

It was the first week back after Christmas break and you were thankful that Saturday had eventually rolled around as the early morning starts, hard classes and already mounting homework had taken some re-adjusting to. You'd spent the two weeks of Christmas break at the Burrow with your boyfriend Fred and his family, just as you had for the previous two years and it was both fun and relaxing at the same time, a perfect break from your usual school routine.

"Morning y/n," Hermione says as she walks into the great hall, sitting down at the table in front of you as she fills her glass full of pumpkin juice. Your sleep schedule had been thoroughly thrown off by the holidays and you'd groaned as you shot awake way before you needed to this morning, not able to get back to sleep. You'd begrudgingly dragged yourself out of bed and gotten dressed in thick, warm layers before taking a small walk around the grounds as the sunrise bloomed over the hills, the sun waking up with you.

You'd been early to breakfast, arriving at the deserted hall even before breakfast had started and so you slipped away into the kitchens and had managed to acquire a cup of tea that one of the busy house elves had placed onto the Gryffindor table for you with an accommodating and very appreciated snap of their fingers. You'd pulled out your book and had read a few chapters whilst drinking your cup of tea before the breakfast had magically appeared on the tables promptly at 7am.

"Morning Hermione," you greeted with a tired smile, still feeling as if you were waking up slowly. You chatted for a while as you both ate breakfast before some of your other friends turned up. You were just about to leave and go back to your dorm when a familiar presence appeared behind you, placing a kiss to your head as he climbed onto the bench beside you, his identical twin slotting in directly across from him.

"Morning gorgeous," Fred says with a smile, already piling up his plate with golden toast with one hand as the other wraps loosely around your waist from behind.

You noticed he and George were both wearing their new sweaters that Molly had knitted them for Christmas and you had to smile as you looked at your own sweater which was also a christmas gift from Molly and Arthur. Yours didn't have your initial stitched on the front like the others did but rather it was a beautifully intricate design of blended colours in a fair isle style, with multiple geometric patterns running across in various orange, autumnal hues. You'd been so excited to receive a Molly crafted sweater and she had really outdone herself with this one. You always looked forward to her gifts, having received a beautiful scarf last year and a pair of mittens the year before that, both lovingly created by hand.

"Morning Freddie, morning Georgie," you smile as George greets you enthusiastically, much too awake for this time in a morning. You tiredly rest your head on Fred's shoulder as he eats and he responds by stroking your back soothingly as you talk quietly to each other, joining in with the larger group conversation but also running your own little chatter just between the both of you.

"Did you want to come to Hogsmeade with me and George later? Got to pick up some stuff from Zonkos," Fred says as he tucks into his sausages, a smirk on his face at the prospect. "Thought we could get a butter beer or a takeaway tea from Puddifoot's and maybe have a walk to the shrieking shack."

"How romantic," you say sarcastically as he chuckles, nodding his head.

Feeling a chill run over you, you pull the sleeves of your sweater down over your hands, trying to fight of the cold air that circulated around the room.

"Oi Weasel-bee, nice jumper," you heard Draco's whiny voice say from the table behind you, making you roll your eyes. You glanced up at Ron who looked immediately offended but was choosing to ignore him until he spoke up again, "I'm surprised your family could afford all that disgusting wool or does she reuse the same jumpers? That would make them what, fourth-hand at this point?"

"Shove off Malfoy," Ron says with a bite in his voice, turning abruptly back to the table as Harry tries to divert the conversation quickly away. You can see George is looking angry across the table as he tries to calm himself and Fred beside you is stiff in his seat.

"Oh look, it seems the Weasley's have a new family member they can't afford!" He says, fixing his attention to you, looking at the jumper you were wearing.

"Nice jumper y/l/n," Draco says mockingly.

You simply look up at him with a fakest, most sarcastic smile and tone of voice you could muster and playfully said, "thanks Draco!"

He frowned briefly at your pleasantness before trying again to wind you up, not happy that he didn't get the reaction he wanted.

"So which one are you shagging again? Do their parents really hate you that much to give you that jumper?"

You feel Fred tense even more and you place your hand on his leg under the table to stop him from starting anything, knowing how cross Draco's words would have made him. You briefly catch George's eye, who looks furious, but you wordlessly tell him not to do anything with a subtle look before turning back to Draco.

"Are you deliberately thick?" You ask, raising your eyebrow at him as he blanched at your words, standing up and moving over to the table. "This jumper was a homemade gift from their parents, showing that I've got two sets of parents that love me and care enough to give a thoughtful gift, can you say the same? What did you get for Christmas from yours, more scars on your hand from your dad's stupid cane? Maybe another tailored black suit that shows how little personality you actually have?"

There's silence in the hall as everyone seems to watch your interaction. Draco, falling silent for a few seconds suddenly huffs and walks away muttering under his breath with Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy trailing behind him like faithful sheep.

Your friends all erupt in cheers at your little victory and you laugh at them as you take a sip of pumpkin juice.

"Which one am I shagging," you laugh, "that's a new one."

#emeritusemeritus #harry potter #emeritusemerituswrites #fred weasley #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley masterlist #draco malfoy #fred weasley drabble #Drabble

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mizjoely · 11 months ago

Note

MHAW Prompt #2: temul (mongolian) - (v.) signifies a sense of creativity and passion; to rush headlong, to be inspired, to have creative thoughts, and even to take a flight of fancy

To Rush Headlong/A Flight of Fancy

He stood on the ledge, staring down as the wind blew his hair into disarray, down, down, down to the pavement below where his passion for the truth - and, yes, his own arrogance - had led him.

I owe you a fall, Sherlock.

Moriarty was dead, brains blown grey and grisly on the roof behind him. But the moment had been prepared for - why did that ring a faint bell in his memory? Was he echoing someone else's words, yes, a character from a nearly forgotten childhood favorite show, someone else who was dying, who had taken a fall but was about to be reborn.

Project Lazarus is a go.

Mycroft believed they had everything under control, but what was control, really? Nothing but an illusion. Even now, anything could go wrong; people failed - look, there was John Watson, stepping out of a cab as Sherlock slowly, slowly raised his mobile to his ear and spoke the lies that would cause his friend so much grief.

Lies that could all too easily become the truth; there were so many factors, so many variables in this chancy subterfuge the Brothers Holmes were undertaking...

I don't count.

He steadied himself with a breath.

There was one variable he could absolutely rely upon with rock-solid certainty, bone-deep and undeniable.

You've always counted and I've always trusted you.

Governments might crumble, financial institutions crash, consulting criminals blow their own brains out on a whim, but nothing could shake his absolute faith in her.

What do you need?

"You," he whispered as he flung his mobile aside, raised his arms..

...and jumped.

This leap of faith, in the end, was no leap at all, and he fell, secure in the knowledge that all would go exactly to plan, if only because Molly Hooper had been so integral to those plans.

John Watson would grieve, but Sherlock Holmes would live - because Molly would always, always be there to catch him when he fell.

#sherlolly #molly hooper appreciation week 2023

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musicprincess1990 · 2 years ago

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Sherlolly Appreciation Week - Day 3

Alright, here's my belated Day 3 entry. I went with a chef/restaurant AU, but full disclosure, I am a terrible cook, and certainly not familiar with how restaurants and food critics work in the UK, so... take it with a grain of salt. But hopefully you still enjoy!

~*~

Bon Appétit

When the news that a renowned critic would be reviewing Molly’s restaurant reached her, she was initially excited. Nervous, absolutely, but thrilled to have a chance to prove her skills and earn a bit of publicity. Her restaurant was still quite new, and she was breaking even, but had yet to turn a profit, and needed the good press. Word of mouth could only go so far, after all. So, upon receiving the information of said critic—one Sherlock Holmes—her outlook was entirely positive.

Then he actually turned up.

Simon, the waiter attending to him, came back to the kitchen with an unfavourable report. The critic was stiff, patronising, and unfriendly. He wrinkled his nose at nearly everything: the décor, the lighting, the furniture, the Irish lilt in Simon’s voice, and the soft instrumental jazz music playing from a 1940’s-style radio in one corner of the dining room. Then he ordered the chef’s special and the most expensive wine in house—all without even glancing at the menu—and be quick about it, he didn’t have all day.

Difficult customers were nothing new to Molly. It was impossible to make everyone happy. She took this less-than-glowing report from Simon in stride, reassuring him (and herself) that once he tasted her food, his tune would change.

But when Simon delivered the chef’s special, he was sent back to the kitchen with a demand to speak with the chef. Molly groaned and washed her hands before following Simon out into the dining room. As they reached the table, she was momentarily stunned speechless.

Mr Holmes, the cantankerous critic, was bloody gorgeous.

He looked like he was carved from marble, with breath-taking cheekbones and a jawline that just begged to be licked. Molly itched to run her fingers through his dark curls, and then pop each and every straining button on his dark purple shirt. And his eyes… well… if they weren’t flashing at her with anger and disdain, she might have gotten lost in their blue-green depths. But that flash of anger brought her firmly back into the present, and she composed herself as Simon introduced them.

“Lovely to meet you, Mr Holmes,” she lied politely. “How can I help you?”

“What is this?” he snarled, gesturing at his plate.

Molly glanced down at the dish, then met his icy gaze again. “Shepherd’s pie,” she said flatly.

His scowl deepened, a feat she hadn’t thought possible. “Obviously, yes. Do you mean to tell me, then, that your ‘chef’s special’ is a dish that every housewife with a stove can make?”

Swallowing the bubble of irritation at his condescending tone, Molly folded her arms. “I have yet to hear a word of complaint from my customers. Everyone who has ordered it sends their compliments.”

The infuriating man scoffed, leaning back in his chair. “People have the tendency to lie in order to avoid confrontation and offence.”

That, she supposed, was true, but no way in hell was she going to admit it. Raising one eyebrow, she held his gaze and fearlessly said, “Well, I suppose you will have to try it for yourself, then, won’t you?”

His face contorted into a grimace “You honestly expect me to eat this?”

A deathly silence settled over the restaurant, as all guests and employees stopped to listen. They knew what this horrible man clearly did not. They knew, and understood, why Molly’s blood began to boil and why her hands curled into fists at her side. “I beg your pardon?” she ground out.

Mr Holmes’ eyes narrowed and looked her over for a moment, then he drew breath and began speaking so quickly it made her dizzy.

“You have a sentimental attachment to the recipe, probably passed down from a relative, someone you were very close to. Parent or grandparent, though parent is more likely. You’re protective of it, as well, you don’t want other chefs to poach it, nor do you want the general public to have easy access to it. You keep it under lock and key, thus ensuring that anyone who wants to eat your ‘famous’ shepherd’s pie,” he made air quotes with his fingers, “must come to the restaurant. Admittedly, a shrewd business move, but clearly you have dismissed the possibility that a more trained palate might easily sort out just what makes your recipe different, and likely you’ve vastly overestimated your own skills. No doubt your food is mediocre at best, and it’s merely the lure of the ‘secret’,” more air quotes, “that draws people in.”

Silence returned as he finally finished his rapid-fire stream of insults, and Molly saw red. In an almost out-of-body experience, she picked up his plate with one hand, and smashed the shepherd’s pie into his face. The entire restaurant gasped in unison, and Molly gave the plate a last little shove before dropping her hand. The plate fell into Mr Holmes’ lap, and if she hadn’t been so absolutely livid, she might have laughed at the sight of him groping the table in search of the serviette, while little bits of meat and vegetables and mash fell from his face.

As it was, she did not laugh, and instead, stood straight and tall (as tall as her five-foot-four frame would allow), and said in a shaking voice, “You may see yourself out.” Then she turned on her heel and fled to the kitchen so he wouldn’t see her tears.

~*~

Molly knew she was facing the noose, that her little pie-shoving act was essentially career suicide, and that the moment Mr Holmes’ review reached the public eye, it would only be a matter of time before she was shut down. The anxiety began to slowly eat her alive, keeping her awake and making her question every culinary decision she made. And every minute of every day, she was on high alert, eyes peeled and ears perked for news of the inevitable death knell.

But it never came.

Days passed without any sign of her demise… then days turned into weeks… then into months. Little by little, Molly’s anxiety eased, and she eventually slipped back into her routine. Customers came as they always had, she continued to spend her days doing what she loved. Cooking was cathartic for Molly, had been since the first time she helped her dad with dinner as a child. He’d been an excellent chef, though he was content to stay in the humble café in Winchester, where she’d grown up. He always said he had no regrets for not opening his own restaurant, and Molly believed him… but sometimes she wondered.

Molly reached up and touched the locket pendant on her necklace, the last gift she received from her father before he died. She never went a day without putting it on, keeping his picture, and his memory, close to her at all times, especially at the restaurant. He was, after all, the reason she’d opened it. His encouragement and support, and his beloved shepherd’s pie recipe, had been the key to her success.

Her moment of reflection was cut short as she reached the restaurant, a queue of customers already forming at the door. Molly quickened her pace, going round the back entrance, greeting the staff as she always did. They wasted no time in preparing for the day, and she sent Jenny, the hostess, to open the doors. Soon, they were in full swing, working at a fast pace to accommodate their guests. Business was good, and though a bit of publicity would have made it even better, Molly was simply glad they didn’t have any bad publicity.

About an hour into the dinner rush, however, Jenny came back to the kitchen and approached Molly. “There’s someone here who wants to see you.”

Without looking up from the bowl and whisk in her hands, Molly said, “Tell them it’ll have to wait, I’m in the middle of making merengue.”

Jenny hesitated, which finally caught Molly’s attention, and she noticed Simon just behind her, his eyes wide. “It’s that critic,” he whispered loudly. “The shepherd’s pie bloke.”

Molly froze instantly, a cold wave of dread washing over her. Oh God… here it comes. Part of her wanted to send both Jenny and Simon out with a passive aggressive refusal to pass on to him. Another part was tempted to hide in her office upstairs until he left. But her father’s voice silenced those ideas. Life is a lot like cooking, Molly. Sometimes you need a burnt cake to teach you the right way to bake it.

She wasn’t entirely sure this oft-repeated piece of advice really applied in this case, but it gave her the strength she needed. She passed the merengue to her sous chef, Claire, then washed her hands and followed Jenny out to the lobby.

There he stood, right by the host’s station, dressed just as sharply as he had been that night, and still just as infuriatingly handsome. He turned as he heard their footsteps approaching, and immediately raised his hands.

“I come in peace,” he quipped with a little half-smile.

“That’s better than last time,” she shot back. Oh, you idiot, she scolded herself, are you trying to lose your business?!

But Mr Holmes didn’t look angry. He didn’t even have that air of self-importance about him like he had that night. In fact, he looked… dare she say it… humble?

“I also come with an apology,” he said, lowering his hands.

Molly waited for him to continue. “I’m listening,” she prompted when he remained silent.

“Right, yes, erm…” His brow puckered, the most adorable wrinkle appearing at the bridge of his nose. “The fact is, after our… encounter, I did a bit of research—that is, I read a review written by another critic, just after you opened your doors. Normally, I avoid reading other reviews of a restaurant I am evaluating, as I prefer to form my own opinions without any outside influence. However,” he paused for a moment, looking rather uncomfortable, “given the circumstances, I thought it might be best to bend my own rules, before passing undue judgment on an up-and-coming chef such as yourself.”

Intentionally ignoring the slightly condescending “up and coming chef” remark, Molly again prompted him to continue. “And?”

“And,” he went on, his discomfort growing all the more evident, “I read about your father.”

Oh, that review. Molly had all but forgotten about it. She couldn’t even recall the critic’s name, only that she was incredibly nosy and wanted every possible detail, every scrap of information she could get her hands on. And Molly, having only just opened the restaurant, and still grieving her father’s death only a month prior, had given more detail than she wished to.

“I understand now why you are so protective over that recipe,” he interrupted her thoughts. “More to the point, I was wrong. That shepherd’s pie was one of the most delicious things I have ever tasted, and I have tasted quite a lot.”

Molly only just managed to avoid snorting a laugh at the blatant innuendo.

“Also, I have been here several more times, in disguise, trying everything on the menu. Everything you make is fantastic.” His lips twitched, almost but not quite curving into a smile. “You are an excellent chef… and I think it’s time the world knew it.”

Mr Holmes reached into his coat, pulling an envelope out from his breast pocket and handing it to her. She cautiously opened it, finding several pages folded together. It took a moment for her to understand what she was looking at, but it soon became clear.

“Is this… your review?”

He nodded. “I’ve sent it in for publishing already, should be public first thing tomorrow morning. You, Miss Hooper, are about to be bombarded with customers.”

Molly bit her lip to keep her smile in check, and to force back happy tears. “Thank you, Mr Holmes,” she said earnestly. “This means a great deal. And…” she took a deep breath. “I feel I need to apologize, too. My behaviour was unprofessional, and I really shouldn’t have resorted to violence.”

Mr Holmes then did something she had never seen him do: he smiled. And Lord, what a smile it was! His entire face changed, still devastatingly handsome, but with a boyish quality that made her think he must have been a mischievous child. “I don’t blame you,” he shrugged it off. “Truth be told, I’ve had much worse things shoved into my face.” This time, he caught the innuendo, and he cringed, his eyes closing in dismay as she giggled. “That… came out wrong…”

Taking pity on him, she said, “It’s alright. I know what you meant.”

He relaxed, and his beautiful smile returned. “So… now that I have apologized and published a glowing review… what’s the secret to your shepherd’s pie?”

Molly rolled her eyes. “I’m not about to tell you in front of a full restaurant!”

“What about tonight, then?” he shot back. “After closing?” His expression softened, and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I could… buy a bottle of your wine, and we can drink it together?”

It finally dawned on her that he was asking her out, and a warm flush spread from her head to her toes, most likely turning her complexion embarrassingly ruddy. She glanced to her right, where Jenny was doing a poor job of pretending she wasn’t listening while cleaning menus. And she didn’t doubt the rest of her staff would be just as interested to hear their conversations should they indeed drink a bottle of wine at the bar.

“Actually,” she began, “there’s a new pub ‘round the corner I’ve been meaning to visit. You could buy me a drink there… if you want,” she added nervously.

His answering grin made her knees weak. “It’s a date.”

#sherlolly appreciation week 2023 #sherlollyweek2023 #sherlolly #chef au #other jobs #molly is a chef #sherlock is a food critic #what could possibly go wrong?

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imtryingbuck · 7 months ago

Text

Too Late part two

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader. Fem!Reader x Conrad (whoever you picture)

Summary: part two of Too Late

Word count: 2,613

Warnings: angst. fluff. lies? Steve makes an appearance.

Part 1

Masterlist

Now in the two years since she had left she finally felt at peace, she found herself.

~~~

For close to a year Conrad would visit Y/n in her little sanctuary that sat alone in the woodland area, for those months Y/n didn’t trust him of course she didn’t he was a member of Hydra, the bad guys who spend years and years destroying the goodness that was James Buchanan Barnes, destroyed and killed those that didn’t bow down to them and abide by their rules.

And while yes Conrad decided not to put a bullet in her head like she had asked for him to do, choosing to open her eyes to the betrayal, he chose to give her a second chance in life he was still the guy apart of a terrible organisation.

Even though she didn’t trust him she did have to admit that she appreciated his help, appreciated his company. Every time he visited he brought supplies and food for her, he even showed up once with a van that had a ray of different livestock in the back so she could start a little farm up like she had wanted to do.

Y/n tried, she really did try to not get too comfortable with Conrad but he was just so easy to talk to about everything and anything, she appreciated that he never once mentioned Steven and his betrayal with Natasha. She hated how funny he was, she hated how much she missed him when he left to go back to the monstrous organisation that was Hydra. Hated how he occupied her mind when he wasn’t there helping around the house fixing things and only accepting a nice cold glass of homemade lemonade from her.

She definitely hated how much he looked so attractive when he chopped fresh firewood for her.

She especially hated that.

It wasn’t fair, he was supposed to be the enemy yet he had treated her better in those few months than anyone had ever.

It had been exactly four months, three weeks and two days since Conrad had last been to visit and she hated it. Though she had the many animals to keep her company she had to admit she was kind of going a bit crazy.

Molly the cow would look at her like she was insane when Y/n would be perch upon on the wooden little stool that Conrad had made for her, talking to the cow as she milked her. Y/n swore that one time the black spotted animal rolled her eyes at the woman once.

Y/n walked into the pigpen fussing over the month old piglets that were the most precious little things she had ever laid eyes on. When her leg was knocked she looked down to see Grumpy, named perfectly for his grumpiness, she patted him on his head telling him to hold on for food, chuckling lightly when he snorted in response. The moment she finished putting the food in the trough she heard the unmistakable sound of a car coming up the gravelled driveway.

Nobody had ever come up to where she lived apart from…

“H-he’s back” she mumbled to herself before dropping the bucket with a clank and running out finding herself nearly tripping over her own foot when she had to turn back around to shut the gate of the pigpen.

Running to the front of the house she saw the same car Conrad always came in, her eyebrows pulled together when she saw two figures sitting in the front, as the car got closer her heart started beating faster as she noticed Conrad and another figure she had come to know because of Steve.

“Y/n-“ Conrad shouts as soon as he gets out of the driver side door “-god I’ve missed you” he jogs over to her and wraps his arms around her frame, pulling back when he notices she doesn’t hug him back but is staring at the other person who stands by the car. “I can explain everything I promise”

“It’s nice seeing you again Y/n.”

Two sets of eyes moved back and forth as Y/n paced around in front of them. One was nervous the other didn’t care about her reaction, well lack of one. Conrad went to speak but the other person in the room shook their head.

“Y-you lied-“

“I didn’t lie-“

“You didn’t tell me the truth!”

“Because I couldn’t, I’m sorry Y/n”

“It’s true Y/n. He couldn’t tell you the truth”

The truth being that Conrad was never a member of Hydra but a SHIELD agent. He had been undercover for four years. There were a handful of agents that were sent undercover and Conrad was one of them, the plan was to take Hydra down from the inside.

From what Conrad had said that it had worked, they had successfully captured members of Hydra one by one.

“Bu-but your meant to be the enemy”

“Yet you trusted him”

Y/n’s eyes squinted at the man sat next to Conrad “I understand that I’ve got real bad judgment when it comes to trusting men Fury”.

“I understand your confused but to be honest Conrad never lied to you-“

“I’ve been thinking he’s the bad guy from the moment he kidnapped me!”

“And yet you trusted him enough to let him come into your home”

“I-shut up. Okay so why are you telling me now?”

“I’ll let him fill you in on that. I’m going to go, it was nice meeting you again Y/n, truly. Goodbye”

Y/n watches Fury stand up fixing his trench coat before nodding to both of them then leaving. Taking the car with him. Leaving with a promise, promising her that Steve doesn’t and will never know that she’s alive.

Conrad’s eyes never moved away from Y/n, patting the seat next to him sighing a breath of relief when she sits. “I’m sorry for not telling you the truth about me, I wasn’t allowed to.”

“No I understand, sorry for overreacting”

“You didn’t-“ he chuckles “I missed you”

“I missed you too”

“So I erm I-I told Fury I want to retire and he’s accepted it, bu-but I was wondering i-if you would have me, here I mean”

“You want to say here? With me?”

“I haven’t got any family anymore a-and I feel happy here”

Conrad hated the silence that followed, he was about to tell her that it didn’t matter, that he would still come to visit, that he was sorry for overstepping when she finally spoke.

“We’ve got piglets. They are the cutest things ever, want to come look?”

“”We”?”

“Well yeah you live here now so…”

He moved so fast wrapping his arms around her, bringing her into his chest. Mumbling thank you over and over again.

In a way Conrad went off script when he took Y/n from her shared apartment with Steve, it was Hydra’s plan all along. The plan was to find a way to destroy Captain America. They had heard from a Hydra agent that was undercover with SHIELD that America’s golden boy had a girlfriend but was cheating on her with the black widow. The plan was to use Y/n as a way to get Steve to stop destroying their ‘hard work’. They were going to blackmail him, telling him that they won’t tell Y/n about his straying ways as long as he did what they said.

It was foolproof as the double agent told them that Steve was in love with Y/n.

Even though he had been cheating on her with someone she thought was her friend.

But Conrad knew that Hydra would hurt her just to get Steve to break. And that wasn’t something he could stand by and watch so he told the team he had been in charge of that he had gotten word that it was time to go ahead and kidnap Y/n. He did have to admit that it was admirable that she put up a fight against ten men who were ten times bigger than her, he hated it when Mitch punched her.

Due to having eyes on him he had to act as if the tears that were coming out from her pretty eyes wasn’t bothering him when she watched her boyfriend and friend sleeping together. When the Avengers showed up he couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling as Steve tries to make a pathetic attempt at explaining his betrayal. He did have to force himself to stifle the laugh that tried to make its way out when Natasha had tears in her eyes hearing that she meant nothing to Steve.

Conrad’s heart clenched at hearing that she was pregnant because she had already asked him to kill her, a thing that he agreed to do even if he didn’t want to. But hearing that she had lost her unborn baby made his heart clench even harder.

Getting her out of the rundown facility was easy as his team were to focused on keeping their eyes and guns trained on the Avengers. Getting her to the farmhouse that sat alone in the middle of nowhere was easy even if she was driving him mad when she kept asking him where he was taking her.

Fury found out that it was Conrad that had ‘killed’ Y/n a few months back when he had to meet the man to talk about how the progress was going. Fury was angry. He had met Y/n a handful of times he thought she was sweet, nice, definitely didn’t deserve to have her life to be ended the way it was. That was until Conrad told him the truth.

For the four months, three weeks and two days since he hadn’t seen her it had drove him insane he wanted so badly to reach out to her and let her know that he was thinking about her, that he was definitely coming back to her. Fury made him go no contact with her until the dust settled around them.

Conrad begged Fury not to let Steve know about Y/n being alive or where she was, Nick wasn’t a stupid man he knew that Conrad had clearly grown fond of Y/n. Finding out what Steve had done, he gave the man pacing around in his office his word. Steve would never find out.

“Con! We’ve got a runner!” Y/n screamed trying to chase after one of the pigs who decided to make a run for it. “She’s coming your way”

“I’ve got eyes on her! I’ve got her!” He cheered picking up the animal, who actually sighed in defeat.

“Shes so fast it’s unbelievable”

“I know, she was on a mission to get away” he laughed placing the pig back down into the pen.

“Her mission fail- what?”

“I love you”

“I love you too”

“Gimme a kiss- wait…”

It had been two years since Conrad had joined Y/n at the farmhouse after retiring, in those two years Conrad had confessed his feelings for her, he understood that she probably needed some time since how her last relationship had ended so he was completely shocked when she jumped into his arms and kissed him. Through them two years they lived happily in complete ignorance of the world around them.

“What?” Following Conrad’s eyes looking up at the sky she frowned. “That’s one of SHIELD’s jets Con…”

“I know. Stay close to me okay”

“Obviously”

They watch in silence as the jet lowers on the field just at the back of their home, the door comes open and the ramp begins to descend. They share confused glances at seeing no one making an appearance, when someone finally stands in the doorway Y/n gasps.

It’s been four years to that day since she last saw him. Those four years weren’t kind to him honestly. His hair was longer and he was even sporting a beard. He looked bigger in muscle though his face was slimmer, his once bright blue eyes were now sunken and dull.

“H-how did he find us?” She whispered unable to move her eyes away from him.

Steve Rogers had found them.

And unfortunately was now making his way down the ramp.

Since Y/n had her eyes trained on his approaching figure she didn’t notice the rest of the Avengers making their exit from the jet. Even Loki and Bruce were there.

“You-you made out that you’ve been dead for four years and yet here you are shacking it up with the enemy” his voice was deeper than it use to be.

“How did you find her?” Conrad asked standing in front of her, not liking the way Steve’s eyes moved up and down her body.

“You let me believe that you was dead baby, for four years I’ve-“

“What are you doing here?” She cut him off.

“Fury. He’s not as sneaky as he thinks.”

“Why are you here Steven?”

“I want you back” Steve states as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Not happening. Leave all of you”

“Baby I made a mistake-“

“Don’t come any closer Rogers. I mean it” it’s now Conrad’s turn to interrupt him. Steve cocks his head to the side and laughs. But does as the other man says.

“He’s Hydra baby-“

“He was undercover for SHIELD. Please leave now”

“Is that what he told you?”

“It’s what Fury told me. Leave”

“Just come home okay, I can be better please baby I love you”

“I’m already home. Tony, Bucky please get him gone”

Bucky looks at her with an unreadable expression on his face “it’s nice to see you again Y/n/n. Come on Steve she’s happy here let-“

“No. No because she isn’t. She can’t just run away and pretend she’s dead-“

“You was cheating on me Steven. With my so called friend as well. I’m happy here, I don’t want you anymore”

“Natasha meant and still means nothing to me baby, it was a mistake, one that I want to make up for. Please just come home”

“I don’t care, I stopped caring about you and her a long time ago. I won’t ask-“

“Just come home!” Steve shouts cutting her off.

“She is home! Just leave and move on”

Standing there Steve shakes his head slowly before looking back up to Y/n. “D-do you really love him?”

“I do”

“Does he make you happy?”

“He does”

Nodding, defeat and acceptance written on his face. “I really am sorry for everything I did Y/n, I-I never wanted to hurt you, I’m sorry truly.”

Leaving Conrad’s side she walks closer to Steve, standing in front of the man who she loved so much, the man who broke her heart. “I forgive you Steve, I’m happy now. Conrad is a great person and he makes me happy”

“I’m glad. I-I’ll always love you Y/n. Goodbye” Steve says before walking backwards and turning around to walk up to the jet. Everyone all except Natasha nods or waves to Y/n before following their captain.

Watching the jet leave Conrad moves closer to her wrapping his arms around her waist, kissing her neck. “You alright my love?”

“I’m more then alright, come on I’m starving and let’s not forget I am eating for two”

Hand in hand with Conrad she walks into their farmhouse seeing the positive side to seeing Steve again, it felt like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

At first Steve cheating on her was the worst thing that ever happened to her, but now four years later she was finally happier than ever before with the man who loves her and their unborn baby.

Tags: @imcinnamoons | @pigeonmama | @vicmc624 | @capsbestgirl77

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