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Swallow

Swallow

Summary: Sherlock allows you to sample his favorite brandy. He has you drink it in the most unusual way.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Warnings: 18+ smutty content, petplay? (use of the terms “pet” and “master” but that's about it), consumption of alcohol, spitting kink (spitting drink into mouth), praise kink, a little bit of dumbification, hinted blowjob- Let me know if I forgot anything!

Word Count: 800ish

Any typos are my own!

A/N: YAY! 211 followers!😆 Thank you all so much! I wanted to get this little oneshot posted before I go to bed, just to keep your desires satisfied until I can put together something a little longer hehe 😉 Enjoy everyone!

Your head was resting on his knee as his fingers buried themselves in your hair, massaging your scalp. He chuckled when you purred at the spine tingling sensation. Sherlock gazed down at you as you pressed your cheek into the fabric of his trousers, your eyes closed in bliss.

“Does my little rabbit enjoy it when I give her pets?” He hummed, tucking a piece of your hair behind your ear.

You peeked at him, nodding bashfully. You did enjoy his gentle caressing, perhaps even too much. You knelt at his feet as he reclined in his favorite armchair. He cradled your jaw as he grinned once more. His thumb rubbed your cheek.

“How sweet you are, pet. Such a good girl.” He murmured as he reached for his brandy on the side table.

You watched him take a sip, wondering what it tasted like. You had never been allowed to taste his favorite brandy before. He raised a brow, smirking as you gazed at him curiously.

“Are you thirsty, pet? I suppose a little sip won’t hurt you.” He cocked his head to the side. “What do you say?”

Sherlock was always adamant about using your good manners.

“Please, may I have a sip, sir?” You sat up straighter as you looked into his eyes.

“Good girl. Just a sip.” He tugged lightly on the back of your hair, making you lean back. “Open your mouth.”

Without hesitation, you opened your lips. Sherlock smiled at you, still tenderly stroking your cheek.

“You will take what your Master gives you, pet. And you will be grateful.” He reminded you of your place.

You nodded. The detective hummed and raised the glass to his lips. He took a big swig, holding the liquid on his tongue as he bent down. Your eyebrows shot up in surprise when he spat the brandy into your open mouth.

The action was humiliating yet so arousing. He emptied his mouth into yours, making you shiver. The brandy was strong and made your taste buds tingle as it coated your tongue. He licked his lips as he pulled away, cradling your jaw.

“Good rabbit. Now swallow.” He closed your jaw with his hand, watching you carefully.

You did so. It burned your throat and settled in your stomach warmly. You hiccuped, biting your lower lip as you coughed softly.

“T-Thank you, Master.” You rasped. 

Even though the drink wasn’t great, the fact that it came directly from Sherlock’s mouth made your pussy pulsate in need. He tossed his head back with a soft laugh.

“It is too strong, darling?” He watched you shrug. You didn’t want to seem ungrateful for not liking it.

“How about another sip?” He offered with a smirk and you hesitated. You squirmed, trying to get any bit of pressure on your aching cunt.

After a pause, you nodded. Without being asked, you opened wide for him. He grinned and took another sip. He spit it into your mouth again, this time tugging at your hair.

“Swallow.” He growled.

You obeyed, moaning as it burned all the way down. He snickered a little. You pinched your eyes shut, throbbing between your legs once more.

“Thank you.” You looked down, trying not to let him see you wince.

“What a good little pet I have. Taking what her Master gives her without a second thought. All you want to do is please me. Oh, yes. That’s all that tiny mind of yours worries about. How to please your Master. It’s your only purpose, isn’t it?” He cooed, setting the glass down so he could bring your face up.

“From sunrise to sunset, all you think about is me. What a loyal pet you are, sweet rabbit.” He purred, holding your face in his hands.

His praise made you squirm and nuzzle his palms. He smelled so good. The detective hummed as he watched you lean into his touch. It made you open your eyes when his hands fell from your cheeks.

“Look at what you’ve done.” He clicked his tongue, pointing to his lap.

You followed his finger, gasping when you noticed the bulge he was sporting. His finger snapped, bringing your attention back to his face. He shook his head scoldingly.

“What am I to do with this? Who will take care of this need I have?” He sighed dramatically.

You jumped at the opportunity. Tugging on his pant leg, you whimpered desperately. The need to please him filled you. You sat your chin on his thigh, waiting for further instruction. His permission was needed before you could make a move. Sherlock laughed at your eagerness. 

“My pet, will you take care of me? How sweet. Go ahead, unbutton my trousers. I have something else to slip into your sweet mouth.” He reclined and nodded for you to continue.

“And don’t forget to swallow what your master gives you, darling.”

A/N: Love you all! Goodnight 💜

Taglist: @sunshine-with-daisy @leigh70 @islacharlotte @lysarria @kebabgirl67 @pandaxnienke @identity2212  Credits: Divider- @firefly-graphics

Part 2 - Play it by ear

Masterlist

Part 1 – Part 3

Pairing: CollegeAU!Sherlock Holmes x OFC (Elena) 

Summary: Sherlock helps his friend study for an exam, and she teaches him some new things in return… 

Warnings: Rated M for making out, second base stuff, boobs. This is mostly fluff, marked awk for awkward and slight emotional crisis (it’s Sherlock. Every emotion is a crisis…). Mention of deadlines and assignments - for those of us who are in uni or relive the anxiety every damn day of their lives.

Word count: 6.1k

A/N: The writing here is like superduper different from the last chapter, but enjoy virgin!Sherlock, he’s bby. Also; I just realized that the timeline of this fic is a bit of a tripping hazard…

I promised I tried to proof and edit this. Typos may be registered with the Office for Typo Registration, open every February 29th from 10.00h - 10.01h.

Anywhoozles; not really a lot of smut under the cut today. 

Keep reading

Gray Hair

Summery: Napoleon reveals his biggest fear

Trigger warning: mention of Alzheimer's

English is not my first language so be gentle.

(gif is not mine)

Napoleon Solo is a man who paid insane attention to his appearance. He paid meticulous attention to his clothes, his hair, his shoes, the watch he wore. His hair knew its place. None would just jump out of place for no apparent reason.

His skin was well-groomed. His face always shaved.

He didn't overeat, never drank too much, and trained his body with an iron conviction to mold it to the image he deemed appropriate. Every morning without fail before the rest of the world even got out of bed.

Napoleon was a man who knew how he affected others and how to act to change that effect. He was a born manipulator. So it wasn't unusual for him to take longer in the bathroom than I did. But today it went too far even by his standards.

I sat on the bed, bored, waiting for him to come out of the bathroom. I was used to waiting. Napoleon took his missions more seriously than I would have thought possible at the beginning of our partnership. He proved me wrong. He let me into his world, into his heart. Which led to me to also opening the little locked door to my heart for him.

I had learned over time to love and respect this man. With all his quirks, but even I had my limits.

Annoyed, I stood up and walked to the bathroom door. "Napoleon?", I knocked at the door.

No response. "I know you take your appearance very seriously, but you've been in there for over an hour now. What are you doing?"

"Just... Just 5 more minutes... I'll be right there," I heard the frantic reply before a muffled clink sounded. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.

He was stuttering. He never stuttered. Even when a gun was held to his head, he still had a casual line on his lips. The clink. With him, every move was spot on. He wasn't the best pickpocket in the world for nothing.

"Are you sure about this? You sound kind of... confused? Should I tell Illya and Gaby? Should we cancel the mission?"

"NO!.. No. I... I'll have it in a minute."

But after five minutes, still nothing was happening, so I grabbed the hairpin from my hairstyle, which was purely for decorative purposes, and stuck the deliberately sharpened end into the door until I heard a soft click. I pushed the door open just as quietly. What I saw was definitely not what I expected.

Napoleon clung to the sink and looked in the mirror in panic.

"Napoleon?", I asked timidly.

His head shot around to me and big eyes start at me. His right hand shot up and abruptly rested on the right side of his head, where it covered his hair.

I drew my eyebrows together in irritation. "Napoleon what's wrong? Talk to me!" I walked toward him. He stalked away from me until he bumped into the toilet behind him and sat down surrenderd on the lid. His hand still pressed to his head. I squatted in front of him and gently tried to dislodge his hand from his head. He refused at first. Did not look me in the eye. I pulled on it jerkily and I had a clear view of the covered area underneath.

My face reflected more confusion. No wound. His hair laying as it always did.

I looked irritated at his face, but he just had his eyes squeezed shut and his face turned away from me.

"Napoleon you have to talk to me. What's wrong? I don't understand? Are you hurt? What? Napoleon are you crying?"

I gently turned his face toward me and wiped away the tears.

"Napoleon what-"

"How can you not see it?" he snapped.

"See what?"

He looked at me out of wet, hysterical eyes. "The hair!" he said, as if that explained everything.

I glanced at his strands of hair. At the part he had been so panicked to cover. There it was. A delicate silver shining hair in a sea of black. THAT was the reason for this reaction?

"Leon.", I sighed. "That's just..." I stroked his cheek with my thumb. "Honey I know you... You know you're only human. An outstanding, talented, insanely good looking humanbeing, but still just a humanbeing. That's perfectly normal."

He shook his head. "I need more time. I... This can't be happening already. I still have so much to do. I still have so much to show you. I need... I need more time." He clung to my wrist hysterically. He was completely out of it. I reached for the mic on my garter and turned it on. "Illya Gaby? We can't go with you... I sprained my ankle. You'll have to go on your own."

"Understood." came the short and practical reply from Illya.

Napoleon was still in his own world. "Honey you... you're not going to die tomorrow. It's just a gray hair."

He shook his head. "I'm going to forget everything. I'm going to forget you. The paintings. Me. That's... That's how it starts. First comes the gray hair

and then..." he shook his head to stop himself.

I reached for his face again. "Look at me. Napoleon come on. Look at me. Good. Now breathe with me. In and out. In and out. Good... Good."

He was slow to calm down, but it worked. "Now, I need you to tell me what's going on."

He took a deep breath. "My father...he was the smartest man I knew. He... hell he was a janitor, but always the smartest man in the room. He was one step ahead of everybody. Until the gray hair came. Until he forgot who I was. Who he was. He was in a wrong time. He didn't know what world he was in anymore. Age took away everything he was."

I looked at our clasped hands. "Alzheimer's?", I asked. He nodded.

I stroked the top of his head. "Gray hair doesn't make you old. I know a girl who went gray at twenty-two." He rested his head against my shoulder and I continued to stroke his strands of hair. "Not every person who gets old has Alzheimer's. I can't promise you it won't affect either of us, but you have more than enough time before that could even be an issue. Leon. You still have time. For the world. Your paintings. Me."

He was silent. "If you find out, you'll have to take me away." He lifted his head and looked me straight in the eye. "I don't want anyone to see me like this. Not even you. If it starts and you notice, you'll take me away under a fake name and leave me behind. I want people to know me as a man. Not...not as a decay."

I was literally struck by his fear, but nodded bravely.

He dropped his head back against my shoulder. "What am I going to do now? I'm supossed to be the young bachelor out there. I can't have gray hair."

"I'll just get hair dye. You're in luck as usual my good man. Black is an easy color."

I scratched the back of his neck. He put an arm around me and pulled me closer. He smelled my scent. "I love you. I can't imagine ever forgetting that."

Better Half

Summary: Napoleon's better half is not what anyone would have expected and yet it is exactly what one should expect.

Warnings: none

Word count: 448

"I know someone," Napoleon said, taking a sip of his drink.

Illya looked at him emotionlessly. "Those are top-secret KGB files. Not even I had access to them."

"Jealous that I might know more?" he grinned at him and winked teasingly.

"It's impossible."

"That word doesn't exist in their vocabulary."

"And who is this mysterious gentleman supposed to be?" asked Waverly. "A friend from...the art trade?"

Napoleon shook his head. "SHE deals in other merchandise...information. There's nothing she can't get her hands on." He smiled into his glass. "If there's one thing I've learned from her, it's that a room is never truly empty."

Illya rolled his eyes. "We don't have time to waste on an untrustworthy affair."

Napoleon looked at him piercingly. "I wouldn't suggest her if I didn't trust her."

Waverly tapped a pencil thoughtfully on the tabletop in front of him. "And what makes you so sure?"

"If she wasn't trustworthy, I wouldn't have married her.", he replied simply. "Albeit under a different name." he shrugged and downed the rest of his drink as the rest of the gathering stared at him in bewilderment.

________________________________________________________________

They were sitting in a ramshackle motel. Only Napoleon remained standing, meticulously keeping away from all the furniture. Dust layed thick on the small dresser next to the bed, whose springs had also seen better days and squeaked happily when Gabby changed her position.

The door opened silently, although that shouldn't be possible with the rusted hinges. A small figure entered the room. She wore a worn flat cap, a too-long brown coat, and baggy pants topped off with a pair of scuffed brown leather shoes.

At first glance, anyone would have seen a fourteen-year-old paperboy. It was only when the figure removed their cap that the too-long hair became apparent. Napoleon moved toward her with elegant steps and took off her coat.

"Still quite the gentleman." she grinned at him.

"When am I not?" he asked teasingly.

"Oh I can think of a few situations.", she returned just as teasingly before reaching into her waistband and pulling out a piece of paper. "You know the drill. I was never here and this piece of paper never existed." She gave him a quick kiss on the lips. "I'll see you where there are no stars."

"On the fifth of May?" he asked.

"Sounds good." She tugged playfully at his tie, destroying the symmetry of the elaborate knot, before disappearing from the small room as quickly as she had come.

"Cute." said Gabby as Napoleon held out the small note to her.

"What's her name?" asked Illya.

Napoleon grinned with a soft expression around his eyes. "That ist something noone really knows.“

Take that as a threat

Summary: Reader is insecure about her body. August makes shure she forgets about it.

Word count: 432

Warnings: SoftDom!August Walker, princess, no smut, just foreplay, body insecurites

August had shown patience. Insane patience. He had waited and earned my trust. I felt all the worse when I noticed how my body twitched when he wanted to pull my shirt over my head. He had waited three long months, reading my every wish from my eyes, until now he was kneeling in front of me, setting me down on the edge of the bed and still towering over me as his hands stroked my stomach under my shirt.

"What's wrong?" asked August with warm severity, pausing in his movement.

I looked up at him with my best puppy eyes. "What's supposed to be wrong?"

"You're stiff as a board. You tell me." he returned dryly.

I shook my head.

August put his big hand around my neck and lifted my jaw with his pointer and index fingers. Forced me to look deep into his eyes. "Don't lie to me princess. I can tell."

My skin crawled. "It's nothing. Really."

He tightened his grip. "No lies." he commanded forcefully.

I exhaled a shaky breath. Taken in by his domineering manner.

"If you want to stop, that's fine." He stroked his thumb along my jawbone more gently now. "Because you should know one thing about me princess. I'm an insanely bad person, but I'm not a rapist."

I shook my head. "I don't want to stop... It's just..." i faltered. It was childish.

"Words princess!"

"I'm not a particularly big fan of how I look." I said hesitantly, looking intently at his cheek so I wouldn't have to look him in the eye.

August's eyebrows drew together. "Why?"

"Well you look like Aphrodite chiseled you as a graduation piece and I'm just me," I muttered as I looked over his shoulder.

August emphatically turned my face back toward him. His eyes bored into my soul. "Who made you think that way?"

"Some people.", I tried to laugh with a shrug, but August's grip tightened again. "I need names." he growled, like the animal he always said he was.

It took my breath away for a moment. "What would that change?", I breathed.

August took a controlled breath in and out before literally flinging me all the way onto the bed, trapping me beneath him. "When I'm done with you, you'll never think like that again." He kissed me so hard and deep it made me dizzy. "Take that as a threat." He said, sliding down my body.

And if one thing was clear in this grotesque world, it was that August Walker was making good on every single one of his threats. 

Kitten and Grizzly

Summary: Sy finds out what his kitten really wants

Word count: 941

Warnings: mentions of primal play, mentions of masturbation

What Sy held in his hands was not what he had expected. Not quite. He thought his kitten would read tearjerkers.

She rarely allowed this form of girly hobby in front of other people. Hid them outright. He remembered once coming home from a binge earlier than he thought because one of his friends had broken his leg and finding her on the sofa watching Bridgerton. Her cheeks flushed abruptly, but she just said, "Shut up." and turned back to the TV.

He had sat silently watching along with her. Actually, he shouldn't say something like that, but he liked the show. So when the second season came out, he just turned it on for their weekly movie night and pressed (y/n) against him. "I want to see what happens to Eloise," he shrugged.

They were both treating it like their little secret.

So he would have expected that this secrecy around her Kindle was simply related to the fact that she just preferred to keep this girly preference to herself. Without comment from the outside.

But when the little device was switched on and lying forgotten on the bed and he read the first sentence of the page, he realized that he had been mistaken.

He wasn't stupid. He had heard of Fifty Shades and had also seen the movie, but it had amused her rather than being a serious read.

But after what he had now read, he realized why. Fifty Shades was probably rather laughable against this. Before he knew it, he was lying on the bed, immersed in this new world. Got to know a whole different side of his kitten. Neither of them were prudes, but she had never been so explicit about what interested her. Was she actually interested, or was this just a more outlandish outing for once? He hesitated, but then looked at the considerable library on the device.

He read through the summaries and some reviews. One theme seemed to run through. Primal Play.

He memorized a few titles and put the Kindle back in its place as he had found it, only this time turned off.

He said nothing about it for now. The next few days, when his kitten was at work, he spent reading more and more of the books he had found. Not only once did he have to interrupt himself to get relief. If she liked that sort of thing, he was definitely into it.

Little fantasies crept into his head. How he caught her. Burying her underneath him. How she would live up to her nickname and scratch his back until red streaks decorated the skin. How he would growl when she bit him as hard as she could. Animalistic lust.

He wanted it. He wanted her. He wanted her that way.

He needed to talk to her. Today.

He waited until they were lying on the sofa together, watching a horror movie.

He cleared his throat hesitantly. "Kitten we need to talk," he began. She broke away from his embrace and looked at him uncertainly.

He looked back uncertainly. "First... It's important to me that you know I didn't WANT to snoop," he began, holding his index finger up to her nose. "But your Kindle was on the bed, turned on, and I picked up a phrase and then I just couldn't stop." He looked at her searchingly. She let no emotion flit across her face. Her walls completely intact and set on a defensive course.

He sighed. "Why didn't you ever say you liked that kind of thing?" He stroked her calf gently with his thumb. She shrugged her shoulders. "Kitten. Come on. If there's one thing I can say, it's that these ideas don't leave me cold, and I really, really want to hunt you." He grinned at her, but that grin fell from his face as she got up and left.

"Kitten!" he called after her, following immediately.

"Sy. This isn't going to work." she sighed still walking.

He grabbed her wrist and held it tightly. "Why?"

She slumped her shoulders. "Because my head won't cooperate," she sighed.

Sy was confused. She let her back fall against his chest. He held her tightly. "It's not about the hunting," she began. "It's... In the books... It's just feelings and actions. It's no thoughts. It's not overthinking. It... Damn you know me Sy. I always think about everything way too long until my thoughts are no longer thoughts. It... I want someone to rip this burden out off my mind. I don't want to have to think. I want to be able to just be, if only for a short time, but I can't. And I never will be able to. All I have left are the books." She literally fell against him. "If you want to chase me through the forest like Little Red Riding Hood, we can do that. But that's not really what this is about for me."

He turned her around and she dropped against his chest in surrender. He just held her close and stroked the back of her head.

"I just want you to feel good," he mumbled softly.

"I want to. But I'm afraid that if I do, I'll just be disappointed.", she murmured humbly into his chest. "After all, you're made for this.", she said and a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth.

Sy grinned. "I'll be your grizzly if you stay my kitten."

She sighed. "We'll try."

He smiled and continued stroking her hair. "You just wait kitten. I've managed to handle a few other missions."

She smacked his chest.

They laughed.

Exhausted Bug

Summary: Sy's girl (autistic!reader) is near a breakdown. Luckly, he knows what is coming and what to do.

Warnings: autistic burnout symptoms, use of (y/n)

Word count: 557

Author's note: I describe here how I feel when I am exhausted. This is not a general behavior of all autistic people, if of anyone else at all. Everyone is different. I am not officially diagnosed, but have shamelessly self-diagnosed myself until I can get my hands on the oficial diagnosis.

Please be gentle.

The moment as they sat in the car, Sy realized what was up. (y/n) was silent. No comments about the evening. She said nothing and looked out the window, exhausted. Her eyes seemed almost dull. He hated it when she was like that.

They were invited to a family birthday party. Often she handled these pretty fine, but lately she'd been under a lot of stress at work, hadn't slept much, and somehow one social gathering followed another. Long story short. She was near a breakdown.

He watched her scratch the little bit of callus on her middle finger over and over again with the fingernail of her thumb. He turned off the radio and drove on.

Tomorrow, despite her exhaustion, she would get up as early as her body would allow. She would prepare her food for the week. She would exercise and do the things around the house that she hadn't gotten done during the week. She would make a quick lunch and then lie down on the sofa to sleep for half an hour. From that point on, her body would catch up with her.

Her power nap usually went on for at least 2 hours, often longer. When she woke up, it would take her at least 30 minutes to even peel herself off the sofa, but often it would take almost a full hour.

From then on, she would get nervous. She wanted to have time for her hobbies and now she didn't think it was worth starting anything at all.

Sy knew the procedure. He had already made sure that they would not have visitors tomorrow, nor would anyone call. He would take Aika to dog training and then go to his brother's gym, although he had his little home studio in the basement so she would have the house to herself. He had left food in the fridge to warm up and checked to make sure her headphones were charged as well. By the time he would return from his workout, she would be long asleep.

He would put water and snacks next to the sofa to make it easier for her to wake up. He knew her current projects to direct her attention to one that wouldn't overwhelm her, to help her relax.

Sy was a planner and a doer. He wasn't the biggest romantic in the world, but he knew what (y/n) needed. He didn't judge her for her quirks, just as she didn't judge him.

He didn't comment on the fact that right when they would arrive home, she would go to a separate room to walk in circles while listening to music. He knew it relaxed her. He knew she would never say anything when he woke up in the middle of the night again and locked himself in his workout room until the images of his nightmare blurred and he was tired enough to sleep again. Or that he had to check the house's security system at least three times in the evening before he could go to bed.

They were an unlikely pair, but they worked together. He wanted his little bug to be happy. No matter what it took to make that happen. Diamond jewelry, or as in her case, an oversized sweater of his and a few rounds in her daydream room.

True Crime

Summary: (Y/n) has a true crime channel. Walter hates true crime. Walter findest out.

Wordcount: 1.452

Warnings: brief mention of torture and rape

Faye didn't want to make that sound. Especially not in the presence of her father, but it had just slipped out of her mouth.

And of course he was now standing next to her, as if she had been shot and had not just taken a surprised breath.

She inconspicuously tried to turn her cell phone toward her, but he was already reaching out for it.

She looked at him with angel eyes.

"That was a really good part of the song," she smiled.

He continued to stare at her strictly. She sighed and handed him the phone.

He looked at the display with his eyebrows drawn together. "True Crime?"

She leaned back into the sofa. This could take a while. "Do you know how much crap this trash spreads?" he started.

"Dad it's just a YouTube channel." Her father started to speak again, but she immediately continued. "And it's well-researched for once. It's got mostly closed cases in it and when they're open, there's no speculation. All the sources are linked. She even shares the published police files."

"Faye. I don't want you listening to that kind of stuff yet. There's disturbing shit happening in the world. You're too young for that."

"That's what the light versions are for.", she insisted.

"The what?"

Faye reached for her phone and showed him the YouTube channel. "Here. These are the light versions I listen to and this", she pointed to the video below, "is the full version, which also goes deeper into all the tathher processes. Plus, even on the easy stuff, you can still skip parts and she warns you."

Walter paused. Since when were these idiots so careful. "And how do I know you're not listening to the other versions?"

Faye simply clicked on one of those videos and immediately a message came up saying you had to confirm your age by ID or credit card. "Because I can't." She leaned back again. "You can tell she takes parental controls very seriously."

Walter grumbled. He was running out of arguments. "And how do you know, how well researched it is. You don't even know who it is."

In hindsight, Faye really didn't know what she might have given away. Whether she had moved her left nostril, or the right corner of her mouth was emitting Morse code, but her father knew right away.

"Who is it?" he asked immediately.

She remained silent. "Any of the older ones from school? A teacher? One of the parents? Aha!"

How the hell did he do that?

"Dad come on. Does it matter?"

He just looked at her strictly again.

She sighed. "Only if you don't say anything."

He rolled his eyes. "I won't embarrass you in front of your friends."

She rolled her eyes. "It's (y/n)." she muttered. "I like (y/n) and so do you, so please just forget about it and don't make a scene."

(Y/n)? "When does she have time for that?"

"Well when you're at work."

He continued to stare at the phone and sighed.

Why hadn't she ever said anything?

"Send me the worst case she has in there."

She didn't have to think twice. She reached for her phone and sent him the video.

"But the light version only goes for 20 minutes," she explained.

"And the other one?"

"A good hour and a half, I think. That one has the most extreme time difference."

She continued typing on the device. "She does a lot more stuff like this, though," she explained. "And you might even like this one," she looked at him uncertainly. "It's about hacking and.... and she educates really well."

He looked at her. "Faye breathe. I'm not going to break up with her."

She loosened up a bit.

"She just could have told me something.", he grumbled.

"Well you're not exactly hiding how much you hate True Crime," she said hesitantly.

Walter sighed. "I'll listen to it."

Faye smiled. "Thanks."

Since he was ordered to take forced vacation, he could also watch the videos. (Y/n) was anyway with a friend living far away.

It was not as if he had anything better to do.

Walter decided to rip off the band-aid and started with the worst case. The full version, though.

He clicked on the video and neutral music sounded. For once, no horror music. The screen remained black.

'Welcome back my dears. If you've already peeked at the trigger warnings, you've already seen that today's case is really not for the faint of heart. As always, assess yourselves honestly. I also had to stop several times during research. As always, you'll find the light version as the next video, but you can also skip parts in this one.

So let's start with how one case managed to put even members of the Japanese Mafia behind bars and why even minors can be sentenced as adults in case of doubt.'

Walter interrupted the video several times. Although it was about a japanese girl beeing tortured and raped, he kept having Faye in mind. You'd think the years in his job had dulled him, but he felt sick at the recitals of torture he was now hearing.

'I don't really know how to end a video like this, but please remain careful as always. Take care of yourselves and your friends and family. There's a link coming up on the screen now. If you know someone, or you need help yourself when it comes to sexual violence. You will find phone numbers, email addresses and places to go to find protection, but also to share and find people who can help you with processing. I hope I didn't scare you away too much but next week there will be something lighter. Promise.

Stay safe and see you next time.

Bye.'

Walter went to the link and actually found official and good stations. Support groups and hotlines he knew himself.

He clicked on the next video that Faye had sent him. That's the kind of video she does most, she had said.

'Welcome back. Today with probably one of the most famous cases in the world. Everyone who has ever heard of criminal cases also knows him. Ted Bundy is the world's most famous serial killer. I want to tell you today, how one man managed to exploit the weaknesses of the police organization so that he got away with his crimes for years.'

Walter listened to the double episode back-to-back. (Y/n) hardly dealt with the crimes themselves, but mainly with the investigative work and Bundy's advantages. The process and his time in prison. She worked almost biographically. Rachel would be proud of her psychlogy research, he had to honestly admit. It wasn't sensationalist, but it was intriguing nonetheless. He scrolled through the rest of the videos on the channel. Well-known cases from the eighties. Historical cases that went back to the fifteenth century. But he also found videos that educated about security measures. Especially for the Internet. Small self-defense tricks that could help even people without any experience in case of emergency.

He had to confess that he didn't hate her channel.

He clicked on the last video that Faye had sent him.

'Hello and welcome my dear ones. When you think of TrueCrime, you immediately think of serial killers and the heavy hitters, so it's easy to forget that there are other newsworthy types of crime. Today we're talking about a revenge porn site that destroyed more than one life and a young man who thought he could do anything until he met the wrong mother. Many of you are probably familiar with the Netflix documentary.'

He went through the links while listening to the video. Again, he found official cybercrime contact points.

Educational sites. Tips for staying safe online.

Walter dropped into his chair. He didn't like the idea of a TrueCrime channel he liked. He hated those things. But (y/n) was doing a good job.

He stroked his face with his hand.

The next day, he just walked past Faye and grumbled:"You can listen to it."

He ignored her triumphant grin and made himselfe some coffee.

He sent (y/n) a link to their own channel. 'Why didn't you tell me?'

Her response wasn't taking long.

'On our first date you said how much you hate TrueCrime.... I thought you were great and I didn't want to screw it up right away and at some point it was too late. Did Faye tell?'

'Not willingly. I interrogated her. Your research is good.'

'So we're good?'

'Only if you add a few places to go in your links.'

'You are a softy after all.'

Walter grumbled.

Patchwork II - Growing Up

This is the second part to this story:

https://www.tumblr.com/drmaddict/721982589869621248/patchwork?source=share

Summary: Growing up comes with a lot of challenges.

Warnings: teenagers fighting on a party, fluff, use of (y/n)

Word count: 2.757

"What are you doing here?"

Mike stoped in his movement. He had almost made it.

"Nothing." he said far too quickly and turned to Henry. Disappearing the small something in the pocket of his jacket pocket.

Henry just raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "If I remember correctly, everyone's privacy is considered here."

"I... I just needed... batteries.", Mike stuttered.

Henry grinned. "You'll have far more success in (y/n)s cabinet."

Mike turned bright red and looked down at the floor.

"Mike come on. I was young once, too."

The boy tossed the condom packet on the bed and continued to look at the floor. Hoped fervently it would open up and swallow him.

Henry closed the bedroom door and sat down on the armchair in the corner of the room. "We should talk about this, right?"

Mike shook his head. "You know the internet is very informative," he muttered, still red-faced.

Henry smiled. "Yeah. I know. I was young once, too," he pointed out again. "But that doesn't change the fact that these with latex and we know you're allergic to it thanks to your chemistry experiment in school."

"Oh."

"Yeah oh. Mike there is nothing wrong with wanting to be prepared. You can talk to me about anything, but you don't go digging around in my or (y/n)s stuff! ... We don't want to traumatize you right away," Henry continued to grin.

Mike turned to the window, overwhelmed, and buried his face in his hands. "Too much information!"

Henry laughed amused.

Mike looked at him sullenly.

"Sorry big guy. I'll stop." Henry raised his hands placatingly. "You and Amber have been together for so long, it's understandable you want to make that step.... She wants too, right?"

Mike slumped a little. "Yes Amber does." he mumbled.

Henry stopped. "What about you?"

Mike shrugged.

"You don't have to."

"I should want to, shouldn't I?"

"You don't have to do anything you're not ready to do. No matter what anyone at school might say."

Mike plopped down on the bed and looked up at the ceiling.

"I don't know if I.... quite yet..." Mike waved his arms around. Who could have guessed that such a tall and strong teenager could look so small.

"Sex can have many sides Mike."

Mike just grumbled.

"Start with something you feel comfortable with. You'll figure out what you like."

Mike sighed. "And what if I do it wrong?"

"That's the beauty of it. There is no wrong. Just two people and agreement. This isn't a boxing match Mike. There's no perfect technique and no strategy. But at least talk openly to Amber about what you want. Share it with her somehow. You wouldn't want her to torture herself for you either, would you?"

"Of course not!" he blurted out immediately. He immediately sat up and looked shocked.

"Then do her the same favor."

Mike sighed. "Yeah okay."

Henry smiled gently. He stood up and walked over to his nightstand. "Here." He tossed a red packet at Mike. "These are latex-free."

Mike caught them more poorly than he could.

"And now get out of here!"

The blond haired boy stumbled out of the room as fast as he could, still bright red.

The adjacent bathroom door opened and (y/n) peered through the gap. "You'll have far more success in (y/n)'s cabinet," she mimicked him. "Did you have to violate him with that picture?"

Henry grinned. "As long as I have to listen to Humphrey jokes, yes."

"Men." she rolled her eyes and went back into the bathroom. "You coming now?"

Henry ran after her at a quickly.

Henry was sitting on the sofa reading a script when Lilly shot through the door and quickly ran up the stairs.

"Lilly?"

"No time!"

"Why aren't you at dance practice?"

The door to her room slammed into the lock and he just heard the key turn. Damn.

"Lilly, what's wrong?" he called through the door.

"I need (y/n)!" she called back.

"(Y/n) is not here! I can help you. Now open up."

"Or Mimmy or Fatima!"

"Why not me?"

"I need a woman!"

Henry sighed. "At least tell me what's wrong."

"I've got my period!"

Henry faltered. "First time?" he asked uncertainly.

"What do you think?" she yelled through the door.

"Lilly this is-"

The door was yanked open. "Don't tell me that's normal now!" She held up a finger.

Henry looked overwhelmed at the delicate now 12-year-old creature. "Do you know how shitty it is for women who do professional sports to still have to deal with something like this?"

She cringed and screwed up her face. Henry gently supported her.

"Okay. You just take a deep breath and lie down. I'll call (y/n) and then we'll take it one step at a time."

She let herself be led to her bed and lay down on it.

"I'll be right back."

Lilly nodded and pulled the covers over her.

Henry went into the kitchen and got a hot water bottle ready while he pulled out his cell phone and called (y/n).

"Hello?"

"Hey... Uhm little problem-"

"Did Mike break something again?"

"No! No Mike is fine... I think... Lilly just stormed through the door and it turns out she's on her period. She's freaking out right now and thinks her dancing career is over."

(Y/n) sighed. "Can't I have an undramatic child?"

"And your hope was in Lilly, of all people?"

She sighed before pulling herself together.

"Fine. You-"

"Hot water bottle's on. I'll make tea in a minute."

"Perfect. I'll buy her whatever she needs. Give me half an hour. Try to keep her calm until then."

"And how-"

Tuut tzut

Henry looked at his phone, perplexed.

He wasn't disgusted by it. God it was just normal, but he knew Lilly. And Lilly always knew exactly how she thought things should be. That her body was now 'betraying' her was hard for her to swallow.

Carefully, he walked back to her room.

"Hey princess. Are you okay?"

"No." she pouted.

He sighed. "Here. For the cramps. The tea is gross, but it always helps (y/n)."

She reached for the cup, smelled it, and put it right back down. "What's this?"

Henry laughed lightly. "I don't know."

Lilly grabbed the hot water bottle and placed it on her stomach.

Henry sat down by her bed. "(Y/n) will be right in."

"Good."

Silence settled over the room. Uncomfortable silence.

"You know there are a lot of female athletes." said Henry, looking at the shelf of trophies and medals.

Lilly just puffed and continued looking at her blanket, tugging at a loose thread.

Henry sighed.

"I didn't even get to go to practice today," she grumbled.

He patted her hand. "I'm really not an expert on this," Henry said.

"But?"

"Unfortunately, that's it."

Lilly rolled her eyes. "Men." she grumbled.

"Yup. You're a woman now."

All eight sat at the kitchen table, looking spellbound at Fatima, who had three letters in front of her.

One from Oxford. One from Cambridge. One from Havard.

"What do I start with?" asked Fatima for the first time in a long time with no real plan.

"We can open all  three at the same time," (y/n) suggested.

"I can't do that," Fatima groaned, already pushing the letters away from her.

Henry stroked her back soothingly.

"Deep breaths."

Fatima drew in an exaggeratedly deep breath.

"Me one, you one, and (y/n) one. Okay?"

Fatima nodded and grabbed the letter from Oxford.

All three tore open the envelope and pulled out the letters.

Fatima let out an uncharacteristically pointed scream. "I did it!"

Henry looked questioningly at (y/n). She just nodded with a smile.

"Three times, actually," Henry grinned. Fatima snatched the cover letter from their hands and skimmed the pages. "Oh, God. What am I going to do now? How am I supposed to decide?"

"No, no, no!", Henry grabbed her by the shoulders. "First rejoice! Then mull it over."

"You did it.", beamed (y/n) at Fatima. "God I'm so damn proud of you. Come here." She pulled the girl into her arms.

"I'm worth something," Fatima whispered.

"You always have been and you always will be. Do you hear?"

Fatima nodded and let herself be pulled back into the embrace. Everyone jumped up and hugged the two until there was only a tangle of family in the kitchen.

It was Emilia's birthday. Emilia had invited friends. Emilia had invited her boyfriend. Joseph. Henry sat in the bedroom, watching the boy in the garden through the window with suspicion.

He had decided he didn't like him. There was something boastful about him. He had also overheard him calling a classmate fat, which brought up unpleasant memories.

"Want some night vision for later?", (y/n) grinned at him and held out a coffee.

Henry grunted. "I'm just keeping an eye out."

(y/n) continued to grin.

"I just don't like him," he blurted out. "He's such...such-"

"Such a spoiled asshole?"

Henry looked at her in surprise.

"Hey I'll let them have their way. I'm not always for it by a long shot." she stated defensively.

Henry looked back into the garden. "What's going on now?"

A flurry of activity arose in the party. Joseph could be seen talking vigorously at Emilia, and Emilia's face grew smaller and smaller.

Henry immediately got up and went down the stairs. (Y/n) right at his heels.

"Joseph-" he heard Emilia's broken voice.

"Are you doing everybody now, or what?" followed Jospeh.

"That's not even-"

"Keep your fucking lies to yourself!"

Henry pushed his way through the group of teenagers when he already saw Mike pushing his way between them. A good head and a half taller than Jospeh, he had an intimidating effect for now.

"Think about what you're saying!" said Mike emphatically.

"Yeah. You don't want anyone to know that she's already spread her legs for the whole school. You know, some girls appreciate staying pure."

You would have thought Mike would have just put him in a headlock and dragged him out, but it was Fatima, of all people, who hit him with a skillful hook and sent him staggering back.

"Don't you ever talk to my sister like that again.", she hissed at him. "Now get the fuck out of this house or you'll learn what it's like to have Mike break you."

Joseph stumbled backward toward the patio, where Henry was already waiting for him. He grabbed the boy roughly by the back of the neck and pulled him along. "I better drive you home," he growled.

(Y/n) went to Emilia and Fatima and took care of damage control.

Henry, meanwhile, pulled Jospeh with him and shoved him into his car.

"Get in! Buckle up!"

Jospeh reluctantly obeyed him.

Henry started the engine and drove off. "If I ever see you treat my daughter like that again, you'll meet my brother. Royal Marines. Think about it."

Joseph looked at him angrily. "Do you want to threaten me?"

"Yes I am. Because we're going to your mother's house right now, and she's welcome to find out how her little sunshine is doing." The boy got smaller. Figures. Henry rolled his eyes. "Now shut up."

He dropped Joseph off at his parents' house, calmly told his mother that there had been an altercation and that her son's image of women could be set straight, and drove back home.

The party had broken up. Forgotten mugs still stood in the garden and rapidly changing lights shone from the living room.

Henry peeked around the corner and saw everyone spread out together in the living room watching 'The little mermaide'. 

Emilia loved Disney movies more than anything. Since no one really knew how she grew up, they just assumed she was making up for a little childhood with it.

Henry quietly disappeared into the kitchen and retrieved his secret weapon.

When he returned, he leaned over to Emilia and held out a cup of hot white chocolate. Filled with colorful marshmallows. "Here. Helps with heartache."

Her eyes sparkled slightly with tears. "Thanks," she whispered, moving a little to the side.

Henry somehow squeezed in next to her and held her close.

(Y/n) smiled gently at him from across the room.

Henry was sitting in the kitchen drinking his coffee when he heard a car come to a stop in front of the house.

He looked out the window and saw Jason's car.

Not a minute later, the boy was standing in front of Henry, looking at him frantically. He held up a pile of sheets. "Taxes." was all he said.

Henry looked uncertainly at the pile.

"Um."

"How do you do your taxes?" asked Jason, exasperated. "I've got side jobs and income from YouTube. But if I do the math, I get 4,000 pounds back and that can't be right!"

"You know..."

"Henry help me!"

"I've got an accountant! No one knows how to do this!" blurted out Henry.

Jason stared at him. "How much does an accountant cost?"

Henry's face turned pitiful. Jason understood and slumped. "Is (y/n) there?"

"Coming in an hour."

"Whiskey?"

"It's eleven in the morning."

"It's taxes! Help me or give me the whiskey!"

Henry immediately reached for the bottle and handed it to the boy.

"How much do you actually make from YouTube?"

Jason waved it off and took a big swig from the bottle.

"Do you have a minute?"

Henry turned to the little thirteen yearold boy who was looking at him with his dark puppy eyes.

"Sure Kamon, what's up?"

Henry signaled to Kal that it was time to take a break from playing, to which the furry mountain just puffed and threw himself into the shadows.

"So... What do... Girls... How does someone ask for a... date?"

Henry looked at the boy's face, who looked as if he would like to disappear into the ground.

Henry smiled gently and sat down on the steps of the terrace. He motioned Kamon to join him. Henry threw Kal's ball without much force and started to speak. "Well the difficult thing is that every girl is different," he smiled. "Everyone's going to like something different."

Kamon looked to Kal, who put the ball down in front of them. The boy grabbed it and it was now in his turn to throw the ball. 

"How do I know what to do?" he sighed.

"You should be yourself."

Kamon slumped his shoulders. "Then it'll never work.", he grunted.

Henry slapped him encouragingly on the shoulder. "Oh, nonsense. Even Mike found someone.", he winked at Kamon.

"But Mike is-" he interrupted himself.

"Mike is what?"

Kamon wrestled with himself. "Mike is popular. And... He's big and strong and I'm-" he raised his arms powerlessly. "I'm just like that."

Henry sighed. "Kamon you're thirteen. There are boys who grow until they're seventeen. You've still got time. And as for muscles. Not everyone is into that either." He grinned. "(Y/n) likes it more when her partner is slimmer. She picked me anyway."

Kamon continued to throw the ball listlessly. "What if I make a complete ass of myself?"

"It's okay to be scared. They're women. They can be very intimidating. Who are we talking about, anyway?"

Kamon faltered. "Um-"

"Come on." grinned Henry, giving him a buddy-buddy punch.

Kamon dropped his chin to his knees and looked out into the garden. "Alex." he said so quickly that Henry almost didn't understand.

"Alex?" He considered. "So what?"

"Alex... Smith." he mumbled very quietly into his knees.

Alex Smith... Smith... Henry's eyes grew wide. Oh. Alex Smith. The little soccer player from his class. The boy Alex Smith.

He saw tears forming in Kamon's eyes.

"Kamon! No! Don't cry. It's okay!"

"It is?"

"Yes Kamon!"

"You don't mind?"

Henry took him in his arms. "Of course not."

He stroked his back. "We all love you. No matter who you bring home."

Kamon sniffled into his shoulder. "How do you tell (y/n) something like that?" he asked into his T-shirt.

Henry smiled. "Well one would take me with them and then you make (y/n) a really big cup of coffee and then.... you just tell her. Because (y/n) loves you all." He grinned. "And since you are the least amount of chaos, you are her little secret favorite." He winked at Kamon. The latter smiled at Henry out of teary eyes.

"Will you help me?"

"Always. No matter what."

The one with the disguise

Summery: you have always wanted to be a doctor, there’s only a problem: you’re a woman. (I got inspired while rewatching 2x01 of the tudors so it’s canon compliant until that episode)

Pairing: Charles Brandon x reader

You had always wanted to be a doctor.

Your mother had died when you were just a child and your father, who was a doctor, had always refused to leave you with strangers to raise you. So he had started to take you with him and you had fallen in love with his work. The idea of helping people, saving them, bringing them back to their loved ones was what convinced you to never stop. Your father had taught you everything he knew but then he had died too leaving you alone.

Women couldn’t be doctors, but your father had always told you to think with your own head, to do what was right and you knew that letting your knowledge going to waste would be a sin.

So you decided to pretend to be a man: you took your father clothes, started to wear a band to conceal your breast, tied your hair so they seemed to be shorter than they actually were and started to wear always a hat. You decided to keep your family name because it was the only thing you couldn’t leave behind, it was something that connected you to your father.

William Smith was born and Y/n Smith magically disappeared.

The only person who knew the truth was the maid that had helped your father raise you, that had taught what was the job of a woman and that had almost died when you had told her your decision. She had tried to make you come to your senses, but seeing you were adamant about it, she had decided to help you in the end.

You knew lying was a sin too, but, in this way, you could help people at least.

Nobody knew you, so you started from scratch by helping those who couldn’t pay for a doctor and you couldn’t have been happier. This was what you were born for; you didn’t need any money, your father had left you plenty; the only thing you needed was to follow your calling.

Things started to get complicated when it got out the word of your doing.

Queen Catherine had decided she wanted to meet the young doctor who healed the poor without asking anything in return.

That’s how you found yourself a the King court.

You had thought you would have met the Queen, maybe stayed some time and then left but God seemed to have decided otherwise: during your visit, someone had tried to poison the King, and when his own doctor had said nothing was left to do, you had saved him.

You knew that if they found out you were a woman they would called you a witch and kill you for it, but you couldn’t have left him to die when you knew you could do something.

So one night, when the king had yet to wake up, you had started to pack. The court wasn’t a safe place for you, you had to leave before someone found out the truth.

You opened the door of you chamber to ask if your carriage was ready, when you found the duke of Suffolk right in front of you. It was clear he was about to come to see you.

“Your grace”- you said

“Doctor Smith”- he said while looking inside your chamber -“Are you leaving?”- he asked looking at your baggage. Someone must have told him you had asked for a carriage, you mentally cursed yourself for thinking no one was going to know.

“My services are require elsewhere, someone called for me”- your heart was going crazy.

The Duke of Suffolk was one of the King closest friend, if he found out you would probably be dead.

“I’m afraid whoever called for you will have to find someone else. The king asks for you to stay at court indefinitely and to become his personal doctor”

“Your grace I don’t think I can. I came here because the Queen asked me but my place isn’t at court, my place is anywhere someone needs me.”

“Mr Smith, it’s clear you don’t know how it work at court. If the king asks you to stay, you stay. It’s an order”- he said and you could see compassion in his eyes for just a second.

You nodded because there wasn’t anything else you could do: the king gave you an order, and disobeying it meant death.

Once the duke left your room, you let the tears come: you didn’t know what to do. You were used to pretend to be someone else, but at the end of each day you went back home, you stopped being William Smith and became Y/n Smith once again even if for a few hours. Living at court was going to be so hard and you weren’t sure you were going to be able to.

Months had passed since then, you had send for your maid, asking for her to be with you and the king had been so kind to oblige. She was the only thing that made living at court bearable.

The king thought of you as indispensable but you were out of any group. You couldn’t spend too much time with the men who were a court in fear of them finding the truth, and you couldn’t spend too much time with women at court because they would have thought you were courting them. Keeping your father name had meant anyone knew that you came from a good family, so you could hear some of the queen’s ladies talking about you.

The only person you let yourself be closed a little bit more than others was the duke of Suffolk, he was the one who had convinced the king to let you travel, even if for short periods of time, to help others outside of court. You didn’t know why he had pleaded your cause without you even asking, but you knew you would have been forever grateful to him.

That’s how you and the Duke, Charles when you were alone, became friends. And that’s how you fell in love with him, you knew you shouldn’t have: you were a man in his eyes and he could never know the truth, but you hadn’t been able to stop yourself.

Charles, with his cocky attitude and his good heart that he rarely showed, had won your heart even if he would never know.

You were set in your routine by now: you were a man by day and a woman in the privacy of your chambers; people that were looking for you asked your maid first and she was the one that came to call for you. But you should have known that something was about to happen.

You were in your room, almost ready to go to bed in your nightgown, your hair left untied when the duke of Suffolk came barging in your room with your maid behind him evidently trying to stop him.

You stopped breathing

“Where is Doctor Smith? I need him”- he asked as a matter of urgency.

“He’s not here at the moment, your grace”- you answered trying to stay calm, it was clear he hadn’t recognized you.

“Where is he? I need him now”- he was raising his voice and you started to worry

“I don’t know your grace, is everything alright?”- you asked gently

“My son... he’s... there is something wrong with him”- his eyes were red, he was clear he had cried.

You knew that your decision could have ruined your life but he needed you and couldn’t be the cause of his pain.

“Let’s go”- you said while wearing a robe to cover yourself

“Where?”- he asked

“To see your son, Doctor Smith taught me some things. I’ll send my maid looking for him while we go to your son. Come on”- he looked at you weirdly but ended up nodding.

You stayed with Charles and his son all night until his fever went down.

“William never talked about you”- Charles said while you were checking on his son before leaving. You decided not to answer - “it’s weird you know, because when I look at you...”- he stopped himself

“I should go, your son should be fine your grace; but I’ll be sure to send the doctor your way as soon as I see him”- you said with your heart in your throat.

“Wait”- said Charles before you could leave -“what’s your name?”

You thought about not answering him, but in all those months of friendship with Charles you had dreamed of him saying your name even just once, so, against your better judgment you answered

“Y/n”- you whispered

“Y/n”- hearing him saying your name made your heart skip a beat -“I didn’t know William had such a beautiful wife”

“I’m not... I’m not his wife”- what the hell where you doing?

“Mhm huh... you know what’s curios?”- he said looking at you intensely- “You and William have the same eyes”

“Your grace”- you whispered hoping he would let it go.

“Tell me”- he said

“Your grace please”- you knew you couldn’t stop yourself from crying for long.

“It’s ok, just tell me, please”- he didn’t sound mad but the only thing you could do was hope

“I’m William”- you said in such a soft voice you weren’t even sure he had heard you

“Yeah you are. Have breakfast with me so you can explain to me”- he softly said

“I can’t be seen like this, your grace.”

“You can wear my clothes. I have no intention to reveal your secret, please believe me”

You were dumbfounded so you simply nod, not even in your wildest dreams you would have thought Charles would decide to keep your secret.

“So why don’t you explain to me how you ended up to be a man”- Charles asked while you were eating

“It’s a long story”- you decided to speak in your natural voice, instead of forcing it to let it sound more masculine.

“I’m all ears”- Charles smiled

“My mother died when I was still a child so my father was left alone to take care of me. Even if he had enough estate and didn’t need to be working, he was a doctor. He didn’t want to leave me alone so he started to bring me with him and he taught me everything he knew. I knew since I was a child I wanted to be a doctor, to help people like him. So when he died and I was left alone, with no family beside my maid, I decided to keep doing what he taught me.”

“You couldn’t do it as a woman though”- he fninished for you

“People would think I’m a witch, they could execute me... the will execute me”- you whispered

“I’ll protect you. I promise”- he said while taking your hand in his.

You couldn’t help but smile at him, this man before you own you nothing, but once again was ready to help you.

“Thank you your Grace. I don’t deserve your kindness”

“It’s still Charles when we are alone and you deserve everything my lady”- you were blushing and didn’t know how to answer but his son took you out of the embarrassment by entering the room.

“Are you feeling better?”- Charles asked

“Yes”- he said- “thank you to the pretty lady. Why did she leave?”

Charles laughed a little bit - “I’ll make sure to thank her for you and I’ll see if she can come visit you soon, what do you think?”-he said while looking at you.

Since Charles had found out about you, you had started to spend more and more time together both when you were William and sometime even when you were Y/n. He came to your chambers to spend some time with you, other times you spent the day as Y/n at his house with his son when the King didnt need you.

You were finally happy: you were helping people, Charles finding out had only made easy for you to travel in the country bringing your help to who needed it, and your free time was spent with the man you loved and his wonderful son.

It was at his house that he first kissed you. You had decided to spent a few days with him, your faithful maid had come with you.

You were playing catch with his son when you noticed Charles looking at you.

“Come on old man, come play with us”- you said while Henry laughed

“Old man? Seriously? I thought I was your grace”- he mocked you making you laugh.

He started following you and Henry, making you laugh while you run.

But he caught you, of course he did, he caught by your waist lifting you in the air and once he let you go and you turned around, he kissed you.

It was such a passionate and sweet kiss at the same time, you couldn’t know how he could do it. You could feel his desire for you but you could also feel all his affection. You were so taken by each other you didn’t notice your maid was running towards you.

“Your grace your grace”- she was breathless from the run -“the king is here. He’s looking for your grace”

You stopped breathing, you forgot the reality of the situation every time you were with Charles.

“It’s going to be alright”- he said sensing your panick -“go to your room, enter from the services entrance. And change into William clothes just to be sure.”

You nodded and before leaving he kissed you once again

“Oh sweet thing what did you got yourself into”- said your maid

You two started to be more careful after that, still spending some time together and after a while you were serene once again. You should’ve known it wouldn’t have lasted.

You weren’t unaware of what was happening at court even if you lived in your happy babble with Charles: the king had fell in love with Lady Anne Boleyn and was trying to divorce from Queen Catherine.

You would have never taught that it would have put your life at risk.

You had never talked with sir Thomas Boleyn, he had never payed attention to you; that’s why you suddenly felt unease when he called for you in his chambers.

Your blood run cold when he asked you to poison Bishop Fisher during one of your visit for his gout.

“Sir Boleyn I’m afraid I can’t help you. I’m a doctor, I don’t take lives”- you said trying to stay calm.

He stood up and you could see the hate in his eyes, you were sure you were going to die but sir Thomas More entered the room as soon as sir Boleyn took a step towards you. He didn’t know but he had surely just save your life.

“Since Sir Boleyn doesn’t need my service anymore I should go”- you said and went out of the room as fast as you could.

You didn’t stop for anything knowing that the only thing that could save you was to never be alone.

You slept in Charles’ chambers for days, you both knew it was risky because you had to go in and out as a man but Charles never said you no. He could sense something was wrong, but he respected your decision not to tell him, even if it killed him not being able to help you.

And then the bishops were poisoned, Bishop Fisher survived, but the king had to find out who did it.

You knew you had to leave but once again Charles found you before you could

“Where are you going”- he asked

“I can’t stay here anymore Charles, I’m sorry”- you were crying

“What’s scaring you my love? Please tell me so I can help”

“I know who killed the Bishops”- you whispered

“Who?”

“I can’t tell you Charles, it’s dangerous I would never put your life at risk. I love you”- you had never told him before but, if this was the last time you saw him, he had to know

“I love you too, my love. You can’t leave, please just tell me who did it, tell me how do you know and I’ll protect you”

You were about to answer when the guards arrived escorting you two to the king. You didn’t need explanation, you already knew what was happening

“The cook told me it was the doctor that gave him the poison, he told me that two nights ago he was called in the doctor’s chambers and payed to poison the bishops”- sir Boleyn accused you

“My king that’s not true. I’m a doctor, I heal people I don’t take lives”- you tried to defend yourself

“Are you calling me a liar”- sir Boley said. You wanted to accuse him, but you knew that the king would have never believed you over the father of the woman he loved.

“Of course not, I don’t know why the cook lied but it wasn’t me who gave him the poison”- you tried

“Is it or isn’t true you have numerous poisons among your medication, doctor?”- he asked smirking and your head fell

“Yes I do, but I use them for antidotes not to kill people”- the king’s look was unreadable

“Do you have any proof you weren’t the one giving the poison to the cook”- the King asked

“Your majesty I wasn’t even in my room that night”

“Can you prove it?”- he asked and you could, you knew you could. You were with Charles in his chambers, but you couldn’t bring him down with you.

So you just shook your head

“Bring him to the cell until I decide what to do”- said the king to the guards

“Wait wait”- Charles put himself in front of you

“Don’t”- you whispered to him but a look from him made you understand he had decided already

“The doctor was with me that night in my chambers”- Charles said and suddenly silence had taken the room.

“Charles do you want me to believe you spent your night with a man”- the king laughed

You knew you had no other choice, beside the guards would have found out soon anyway. So you took a step towards the king, took your hat away and untied your hair.

“I’m sorry your majesty, I didn’t mean to lie to you”- you had met your end, you just hoped in a merciful death

“Henry my king, I’m asking you as a friend to believe me. She wasn’t the one who gave the poison to the cook, she was with me all night”- Charles begged the king

“She’s a witch”- screamed Boleyn

“SHE IS NOT! She is a doctor, the same doctor that saved your life my king”- you caressed Charles’ arm hoping he knew how grateful you were to him.

The king eyes followed your gesture and his eyes bored into you. It seemed like ages before the king spoke again

“She is free to go. Willia- what’s your name?”- the king asked

“Y/n Smith, I’m the daughter of the late doctor Thomas Smith, my king”- you bowed to the king.

“Lady Y/n, you’re free to go. But you’re to stop dressing as a man”

“Thank you my king”- you smiled looking at Charles

“I would also like for you to still be my doctor, lady Y/n.”

“Of course, it would be my honor.”

“Whoever has any problem with Doctor Smith, probably duchess of Suffolk soon, can come talk to me”- the king said and you took a breath of relief hoping that was enough to save you from Boleyn.

You could still hear people murmuring, you could feel the heat of Boleyn’s stare, but you were finally happy: you could be yourself once again and in plain sight, the king referred to you as a doctor and you were able to be with the man you loved in public.

“Duchess of Suffolk, it sounds nice, doesn’t it?”- Charles said

“It really does your grace”- you laughed when Charles took you in his arm to take you to his chambers not caring of the people watching

“Try not to tire my doctor too much, Charles.”- King Henry laugh

And you knew you two were going to be happy.

Well... what do you think?

I’m sorry for any mistakes guys, but as you probably know by now English is not my first language.

Gifs aren’t mine and like always FEEDBACK IS ALWAYS WELCOME ❤️

Henry Cavill permanent taglist: @xxxkatxo

Permanent taglist: @jwspiter

Masterlist

Feeding the U.S Army

summery: You’re a Masterchef contestant, and during the team challenge you and your team have to cook for 100 army men. Easy right?

Pairing: Captain Syverson x reader

Warning: very bad english, no proof-read. ENGLISH IS NOY MY FIRST LANGUAGE SO IF THERE ARE ANY MISTAKES I’M SORRY.

I don’t even know what this is but I hope you like it

Masterchef! You had just passed the last selection and finally were going to cook in the Masterchef kitchen.

You didn’t really know what you were expecting when you send in your request to partecipate to the new season of Masterchef, the only thing you knew was that you loved cooking.

You had started cooking when you were really young: you were only eight when you helped your mom baking your dad’s birthday cake for the first time and you hadn’t stopped ever since.

It could seem strange for some people but, growing up in a farm, it was normal for anyone to help as much as they could: you had started with tidying up your room, you had learnt how to collect the eggs from the chicken goop first things in the morning, you had gone with your father to take care of the cows; but as soon as you and your family had found out how much you enjoyed spending your time in the kitchen, that had become your kingdom. You still helped with any other task if help was needed, but most of the time everyone left you do what you did best and what you loved the most: cooking.

So yeah.. you loved cooking: you cooked when you were happy, wou baked when you were stressed, you cooked when you were stuck in your own head, you went to the kitchen when you needed a moment to yourself knowing that very few people had the guts to follow you in your place in the house. 

Anyway the idea of participating at Masterchef first come out while the previous season of the show was on air: you were in the kicthen (surprise surprise!), you were preparing everything for that night gathering; your father was keeping you company while preparing a fruit salad (the only thing you had given him permission to touch, he had pretended to be fed up with your behavior but you both knew it was just for show). You were talking, the tv was on in the background when a new episode of Masterchef had began and your father had stopped answering your question.

“Dad?”- you had asked while still chopping the onions; there was so much to do in so little time you didn’t have time to pay attention to what your father was doing

“You are so much better than him”- your father hadn’t been making any sense

“What are you talking about?”- you had taken your attention from the onions to finally look at your father

“You should try and get on Masterchef”- your father had insisted still looking at the screen where Joe Bastianich was talking to a man in a black apron.

“You’re crazy”- you had simply said before getting back to your cooking. 

You hadn’t talked about it again that day, but the idea had lingered with you and even though you had kept your thoughts to yourself, your father knew you better than anyone else, so one day you had found the Masterchef application on your bed with a post on it 

‘I know you can do it honey- dad’- the post had said 

You had had a lot of fear: the fear of dissapoint your family, the fear of being on national television, the fear of leaving your family that needed your help at the farm every day, the fear of not suceeding, the fear of not being good enough,the fear of not pass even the first selection. Your father had come to your help once again “Honey the only way you could lose is if you didn’t even try. What’s the worst that could happen? that you don’t get in? Who cares? You will always be our favorite chef”

Your father’s words had been the push you needed, so you had send you application and when you had been called for the selection you had been excited.

You had survied the first couples eliminations and now you were going to be the captain of your team, the red team, in the first team challenge and you were scared shitless: not only you could go home if you made any mistakes, but the future in the competion of your team mates depended on you too, and as if that wasn’t enough you had to feed one- hundred army man. So yeah you were panicking and trying not to show it because you needed your team to trust you and to be calm enough to serve good food.

You took a deep breath and focused on what the judges Gordon Ramsay, Joe Bastianich and Aaron Sànchez were saying.

“Each  team will have to devise a menu that includes a protein, two vegetable and a sauce”- Joe said

“Now remeber, at the end of the day one of you will be eliminated and this will be last time he will be cooking in this competion”- Gordon’s words kept your anxiety spiriling but you tried to keep your focus- “All right, are you guys ready? let’s go”

You and your team sprinted as soon as Gordon had done talking. Once what you wanted to cook had been decided, you gave a task to each and everyone of your team mates and you all started cooking.

Managing between doing your own prep and making sure every team member was doing ok and didn’t need your help, wasn’t easy but you made it; the judges tasted your dish after half an hour and, aside from some suggestions to make it better, they liked it.

So you were on cloud nine: the judges liked the dish your team had devised, your prep had gone alright, your team was doing ok. But then service started and YOU PANICKED: you had to serve 100 army men and women and you had no idea how to prepare 100 dished that were perfect and that looked all the same. Your team was looking at you for direction but you had no idea what to do: you had never worked in a restaurat, none of you ever had, and when you cooked for your family gathering everyone made their own dishes, you were so out of your comfort zone. 

And that’s when things started to go even worse: service had started, the army men and women had arrived and had a very clear view of your stations, you had no idea how you wanted to plate the food and Gordon Ramsay came to you and he didn’t look happy.

“Red team come here, all of you, RIGHT NOW! We need a system, your tray is cold, the food is cold, I’m not letting you serve fucked up food. Take your food back in, warm it up, warm your tray. Y/n come here. YOU ARE THE TEAM CAPTAIN, SO FUCKING WAKE UP, DECIDE HOW YOU WANT YOUR FOOD ON THE PLATE AND START A PRODUCTION LINE. RIGHT FUCKING NOW Y/N”- Gordon pratically screamed in your face, you knew he just wanted to make sure the food that came out was perfect, he only wanted for you guys to succeed, but you had never liked when people screamed in your face even if you knew they didn’t mean any harm. Your eyes watered but you weren’t going to cry, you were going to do this, but when you thought things couldn’t go any worse..... you found out you were obviously very wrong.

“HEY! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?”- a voice boomed behind Gordon and once you raised your gazed to see what was going on, you saw a mountain of a man, dressed in uniforme, coming towards you.

It was clear not even Gordon knew what was happening

“Can I help you, sir?”- Gordon asked, you couldn’t sure but his voice sounded a little bit unsure

“You wanna help me, why don’t you start by not screaming at a woman?”- the army-man’s voice was much calmer now but he wasn’t any less intimidating. Gordon didn’t know what to say and you knew it, so you took a step forward

“It’s really not a problem.. ehmm”- you read the name of the man on his uniform - “Captain Syverson, sir. Chef Gordon was just giving me a pep talk, everything is good. We will be serving you your food very soon”

As soon as you had started talking the man’s eyes had moved from Gordon to you and for the first time, since he had come over, you noticed how bautiful they really were. His eyes had become gentler when he had started looking at you, you had almost shivered when his attention had been on you and you only.

“Mhhm”- Captain Syverson said like he was still assessing the situation before deciding - “You can called me just Syverson”- he said before turning around and going back to his men.

You stood there for another second, all eyes were on you and you were sure your cheeks were burning

“Back to work guys”- you said. There was no way you weren’t sarving your best food to that hunk of a man.

Everything had gone smoothly after that, you had felt eyes on you some time during service but every time you had looked up you had never been able to pin point who was looking at you, so you had always gone back to work.

Once the judges had annouced your team had received 70 votes against the 30 of the other team and you had won you couldnt’ been happier, you had been sad for the contestant that had had to leave the show, but it was a competition and that was how it worked.

You were still celebrating with your team when you heard someone clearing their throath behind you

“Hello”- captain Syverson was behind you

“Oh Captain, hello”- what was happening?

“I thought I told you to call me Syverson, or Nathan if you prefer, but none on that Captain crap”- his raspy voice was doing things to you that shouldn’t be possible when you had just met the man.

“Right. Was everything ok with your food?”- you asked because why would he be here, if not because there had been something wrong with his food

“The food was amazing, you’re a fantastic cook, sugar”- he said and your cheeks burned once again at the name. What was this man doing to you

“Oh thank you, it was a team effort”

“Well you are the team captain, so I think you deserve some credit, sugar”- he said before looking back where a man was calling for him - “I need to go, but I really hope to see you again sugar”- he winked at you before leaving.

“uh”- you stood there staring at his back not sure of what had happened.

Everyone had joked about what happened between Gordon and the captain for the rest of the season, but you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the man that had screamed at Gordon Ramsay (GORDON- FUCKING- RAMSAY) for you.

The competition had gone on and without even knowing how you had arrived to the grand finale and to your surprise YOU HAD WON!

So yeah when you sent your application for Masterchef you didn’t know what you were expecting, but in the end it was clear you had left the show with so much more you had even though you could win.

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itsMeYN When I sent the application for Masterchef, because my father conviced me to, I never thought I would even passed the first selection, let alone win the finale. This journey has given me so much, I learnt from every single one of the other contestat, some of which have become really good friends. I don’t even know how to start thanking the judges, Gordon, Joe and Aaron, They have taught me so much and always known when I needed a nudge to wake up and start believe in myself. Thank you, thank you this competition has given me so much 

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yourmominsta I’m so proud of you honey 

jennifer So happy for you, I was rooting for you since the first episode

haley234 Congrats! can we please talk about the team challenge with the army man ;)

austin  Oh my god! that episode was the best, that army captain was totally hitting on her

felicity Does Captain Syverson have instagram? Please does anyone know?

austin I dont think so, I’ve been looking for him too

rachel  Guys I was watching her story the other day and I swear there was a very familiar scratchy voice in the backgroud

yourbestfriend Oh my god... @itsmeYn I think you got busted

itsmeYn @yourbestfriend shut up

haley234 wait what

liked by masterchefus, gordongram, yourbestfriend and 345,678 others

ItmeYn Had the pleasure to dine at @gordonndram restaurant, and wasn’t that an experience. Also I think the second meeting between Gordon and at certain someone went a lot better

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austin “Certain someone”... yep she is totally dating Captain Syverson. Is it normal being so obsessed with the idea of them together when I have only seen 5 min of them together on tv?

haley234 Same sis, same.... and maybe it’s not normal but who cares

gordongram We still yelled at each other so I wouldn’t say it went so much better

itsMeYn “We” is the key word here, you yelled at Sy too, i think it’s mostly out of love now 

austin Sy... I repeat she wrote Sy... My ship is real

Yeah Masterchef had given you so much…

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