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saiidahyunie · 4 months

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just come kiss me (and bite me)

vampire!myoui mina x doctorstrange!reader ; fluff

synopsis: it was supposed to be a normal gala event that you were attending at, the evening was going swell until you found yourself in a situation with the party’s host.

wc: 8.3k

warnings: cursing ; blood (mentioned only once) ; that's all really :)

pt.2 pt.3

a/n: this spinoff is set in @miinatozakiii’s detective!jihyo x spiderwoman!reader au!!!! her whole series is a work of art!!!

keep your eyes peeled for a small guest appearance ;-)

—

the constant beeping of the ekg machine and the patient’s soft breathing keeps you engaged, prying in between the layers of open tissue and bone before reaching the designated area that was focused for today’s operation.

“scalpel please.” you command as an aiding nurse hands you the sterile tool, swiftly cutting into the patient’s small outside layer of tissue that was surrounding the brain, checking the monitor above you that reflected the location of the tumor that was protruding just in the back of the patient’s head.

with your steady hands, you carefully place the tongs on the tumor that was roughly about the size of a golf ball, cutting under it very carefully as you waved the sharp blade around the incision area. once you pulled the scalpel away, you slowly take the tongs out of the patient’s open skull area, showing the tumor before placing it in the small tray on your left side, stepping away from the operating table.

“alright, we’re good here. prep the head for stitching.” you say once exiting the room to clean yourself up.

about ten minutes later, you and your assisting operating nurse sohee walked out to the waiting room where the patient’s family was sitting, all of them collectively standing up, waiting to hear the news. while that was happening, cristina, your best friend, pops her head out of the front desk, watching you shake hands and exchange hugs, delivering the good news, reading your lips while you give the assurance that the patient will be in recovery right away and they’ll see them very soon.

you tell sohee to take a break before being paged again, eying cristina from the desk, walking toward her as she whips her hand out in front of you, reciprocating her energy as you gave her a high five.

“so i suppose the craniotomy went well as expected?”

“i would’ve done that with my eyes closed, but yes. the tumor was actually bigger than anticipated.”

cristina was left in a small surprise, walking through the long concourses of the hospital. it was practically second nature to be in this fast-paced environment with the route back to your office was just a simple walk down the hallway and to the left, take the elevator up to the 32nd floor, and the door to your office will be two doors down from the right.

“so how’d that blind date go two days ago?” you ask cristina, back still turned as she was right in tow with you.

“god, never again. she was a complete nutjob.”

“oh how so?”

“didn’t have the basic manners for a fancy restaurant, didn’t want to take no for an answer. she insisted on paying the bill but i played it safe and paid my half of it.”

you seeth air out of your teeth at the calculated defensive play that cristina did as you two enter the elevator.

“something tells me that you’re being set up with the wrong people.” you say, pressing away lightly on the buttons of the elevator panel, automatically going up after a few short seconds. “soojin was never really a good matchmaker for you to rely on, actually never was since med school.”

“you think y/n?” cristina retorts at you, “thanks for stating the obvious enola holmes.”

“hey! i finished both movies this past weekend. really great, don’t think i’d be a sherlock however.”

“you’d definitely would and i can prove that to you.” cristina says as you reach the floor of your office, briskly walking to the door, opening it wide enough for cristina to follow shortly after. you then walk to your desk, you snap your fingers as cristina is caught off guard by your cloak of levitation closing the door behind her, placing a hand on her chest in shock as the cloak moves around the room.

“i swear i told you to have a coat hanger for that thing.”

“not a thing.” you shoot out, pointing a finger as she sees you sit at your desk reviewing some of the paperwork that was left before your midday operation.

“say, are you doing anything saturday?” you ask, not paying attention to her while signing through certain lines of the files as cristina sits down on one of the couches as she notices the cloak holding up a kettle of water and cup, offering to her as she takes the cup.

“not at all y/n.” cristina replies as she sips the water easily. “why do you ask?”

“i got courtside tickets for the knicks game next tuesday and i cleared my schedule so-”

you get interrupted with the phone beeping as you put down your pen to answer the pager, clearing your throat before answering.

“what’s up jungwon?”

“hey y/n!” your young secretary answered with a bright tone in his voice. “i have doctor west here at the front desk with me saying that she needs to see you. she has some envelopes in hand with your names on it.”

“ah that must be the mail then, send her up!” you reply heartily as cristina breaks her head down, stifling a laugh at your antic.

“i can’t believe you made west your errand girl.”

“she lost a bet with me, so this was the punishment that she had to do.” you say with a cracking smile on your face. “i actually hope she does this forever really.”

the door opens again with doctor west walking in with a smug look on her face, “har har very funny l/n.” she says to you as she hands you the small set of envelopes for you to look through. “i was off by ten points on that basketball game bet, but with you being the sports analyst you are, of course you’d be on the dot with it.”

“i won fair and square.” you firmly say, “want an espresso before you head down?” you ask as the floating cloak hovers over the machine waiting for her answer.

“i’m good y/n but thank you though.” west replies as she makes her way to the door, “oh there was this old fashioned envelope with a fancy seal on it.” west says with a finger pointed up like an idea popped up in her head.”it looked pretty important to me so i put it in the middle of the pile.”

“why would you put the most important one in the middle when it should be on top?” you ask, shifting through the stack as you see the envelope that west was talking about, flipping it over as it had very fancy writing on the front that was written to you before looking at the red seal that was keeping it closed.

“what is that?” cristina asks as she looks over to you again.

“a very old envelope, but i think it's what’s inside that matters.” you reply breaking the red seal, opening up the envelope to pull a slip of paper that had a ticket inside along with a note.

“it’s an invitation.”

“to where?”

“a special evening gala at the myoui residence, tonight.”

“the myoui’s?” doctor west asks with confusion in her voice. walking back to you to show the small lettered paper as she was left in surprise. your cloak of levitation floating behind you as it also looked like it wanted a look at the paper, you waved your hand away at it as it went back in the corner.

“what does the invitation say y/n?” cristina asks you, organizing the rest of the unopened envelopes to the left side of your desk before putting your attention back to the paper you were holding.

“it says: you are cordially invited for the celebration of akira myoui’s seventy-fifth birthday. there will be a special hearing from the celebrant himself as well as reception following after with provided refreshments. please dress in black attire accordingly and the ticket you received in the envelope will be your entry into the residence.”

cristina and west were left in shock that you were given such an invitation as the realization hits her like a truck.

“wait! this is the same akira myoui that you had to do emergency brain surgery on that one graveyard shift?”

you nod at the exposition clearly and remember the urgency of the situation. luckily you did save his life after they brought him in what was a sudden aneurysm to his brain. it was clockwork for you as the operation went swiftly for about four hours. you recall informing the mother, daughter, and his visiting brother after and they were able to leave after a few days of close monitoring to make sure that there weren't any complications.

“what’s so special about the myoui family?” doctor west asks as she takes a seat on the couch set on the opposite side of cristina.

“they’re the most esteemed family in all of new york, kind of like uncrowned royalty given that mr. myoui was one of the pioneering businessmen that put wall street on the map.” you answer as doctor west scratched her head at the new information gained. “consider them to be the japanese version of the beckham family.”

“an event hosted by the myoui family like this is way more prestigious than common pop culture gatherings. this is fifty times bigger than the met gala or the oscars.” cristina adds on snapping your fingers again to get a levitating cup of espresso handed to you.

“frankly enough if it weren’t for me, mr myoui wouldn’t have been alive today.” you say taking a quick sip down the last bits of your espresso before waving off the cup to float back to its original place.

“well congrats on getting the invite y/n.” doctor west says to you as she heads out the door of your office for real this time. “don’t forget to take pictures of their mansion for me, will ya? i’m helping my little sister with her architectural project so a little inspo would be nice.”

you wave doctor west off with a thumbs up as you reach for the slip of paper that was addressed to you before looking at the opened envelope that it came in. the paper was aged and ragged, you could feel the years behind your fingertips slowly grazing the cracked seal, looking at the image of the elegant swan that was used as a stamp.

“so you are going right?” cristina asks you as she leans back on the couch to relax for a bit before heading back downstairs to work.

“well i have to.” you reply lowly, “i saved the man’s life, in a way he’s indebted so by inviting me is one action of his thankfulness for the years of work i dedicated most of my life to in order to help others.”

being a sorcerer of the mystic arts was one thing, but somehow it felt wrong to be one place than the other. you tried your best to be in the sanctum and the hospital but you know that it’ll eventually come down to leaving one thing behind. you didn’t get to that fork in the road yet but it was going to be soon.

you fold the paper up and place it in the center of your desk, clap your hands together twice, getting cristina’s attention, grabbing the empty cup from her and setting it on the coffee table.

“we should go downstairs before the pager reaches my office again. not a fun time the last time they did that.” you say as cristina cracks a laugh at the memory you mentioned, closing the door behind you as you made your way down to the hospital floors.

—

a couple hours later after you left work early and you were walking around your decked out high-rise apartment, lightly cleaning around before you had to get ready for the gala event.

to say that you’ve done well for yourself (frankly quoted by your parents to add,) would be hell of an understatement. the apartment was minimal and spacious, but it reflected your lifestyle and personality so well with all of the trinkets and nicknacks you’ve spoiled yourself with within your 5 years of being a neurosurgeon. the list of flashy toys and items only grew and hell you had a rare grand piano sitting in your dining room that was auctioned off with the description which was claimed to be the same piano that elton john had on his farewell tour, along with three of the rarest hypercars just sitting in your garage waiting to be taken on a joyride again.

you open one of the units in your walk in closet after showering, browsing through any possible outfits to wear with two options; the first one being a sleek satin textured dress that would flaunt off your figure in all the right curves and places—if you wanted to attract attention to yourself, this would be the outfit to wear.

the other one however was more on the subtle, lowkey side as it was a simple suit, but the jacket was tailored to a super cropped fit that would expose your midriff, not that you had a problem with showing a little hint of your abs since you kept yourself in shape regularly. giving the suit a longing look, you nodded at the thought of the suit on your body and pulled it out of the closet closing the door right after.

once you got all of the necessary chains and jewelry you thought would look good with the suit, you walk up to the glass case of all of your degrees and accolades, pulling the drawer below to reveal a plethora of watches rotating in different cycles to ensure that the inner gears would be operating properly. you hovered your finger over the different watches that would be worth almost a third of your paycheck as you picked out a sleek rolex out of the drawer, pressing the knob to ensure that it was working, and pushed the drawer back and slipped the watch on your wrist while walking out of the apartment.

—

even though you had only seen pictures of the myoui family’s estate, you couldn’t help but get lost in the intricate designs that they had for the house when you arrived. architectural digest would have a field day in covering the estate if the family wasn’t very closed off to the public, but that was also the beauty of it too—it gave a mysterious vibe to everyone that has ever seen or written about this famous family and nobody knew what was happening behind closed doors.

the outside pavilion of the estate was riddled with vines growing on the sides of the front door, exiting your lambo, adjusting your necklace and jacket before handing the keys to the valet worker nodding as he watched in awe as you went up the stairs to the front entrance where they were checking every attendee inside.

the process was quick and smooth, following along the flow of the crowd, scanning and observing the walls plus the high arches in the interior before approaching the main hall.

you were no stranger to gatherings, observing many of the people conversing with one another in the various standard and standing tables spread across the room, proceeded to walk forward. people steal quick glances at you walking past them, immediately recognizing who you were as the sudden exchange of words turn into quick murmurs—no surprise as word does travel fast when you have a powerpoint presentation of awards and achievements.

as people try not to freak out at the sight of you and your appearance, you give a small smile nodding to the multitude of eyes staring, walking forward past the occupied tables. you then get stopped by various individuals that actually turned out to be colleagues you’ve met at previous events, breaking the ice and catching up on what’s been happening since that last time you and them have met.

it’s refreshing and nice that you don't have to keep your mouth shut since you usually speak at these events or conferences, but then your eyes wander to a certain person, well technically, a big guy who was about 6’4 who stood out a little more than needed. either way, you flash a goofy smile blurting a fast excuse to remove yourself from the conversation that you were in.

you walk your way through the idle crowd as you approach the man, his back faced towards you. getting stopped by one of the waiters who was plating out simple pastries to the table, looking back at the man’s broad shoulders, the hair on the back of his head looking more familiar, instantly remembering who the person was.

“chief!” you yell out, getting his attention as he flashes a smile that matches yours, walking towards you arms open as he draws you in for a long embracing hug.

“ahh y/n!” the chief cries out with joy, his hands nearly taking up the entire space on your back, patting his shoulders and moving your body side to side as he pulls away after a few seconds.

“it’s so good to see you!”

“even better to see you again!” the chief replies, “god, how long has it been since we last saw each other?”

“about 6 years, no?” you ask as the chief places his fingers on his head, rubbing his temple at how long it had been. you and the chief had quite the history together; the both of you met back at the hospital during your internship at the time for med school when the chief’s best friend in the force at the time was rushed in after a case that went south. you were an assisting nurse at the time but luckily the surgery went well for him to make a full recovery.

you were the one to actually break the news to the chief after the long operation and you remember the faint memory of him shaking your hand, thanking profusely of the work that you and the other nurses did to save his friend’s life. since then, you and the chief kept in touch—mostly by events like these and you were even invited to some of his birthday parties. he was a good colleague, an inspirational person with the considerable amount of work he’s done for the police, but above all that, you were happy to have the chief as a close friend.

“what you been up to lately?” the chief asks you while adjusting your rolex.

you sighed out playfully at the doting question, “nothing much actually, it’s been nice down at the hospital.”

the chief nods with pouted lips as he scans the crowd for anything out of the ordinary, still letting his policeman demeanor take over him.

“you’ve kept yourself busy, i heard about the whole lizard debacle when it happened two weeks ago.” you say, angling your head off to the right as the chief nods his head at the memory.

“yeah, that was something.”

“word on the street is saying that you were actually tied up with we-”

“zip it l/n, i already got made fun of with that from the other detectives back at the precinct.” he says coldly, “i don’t need to hear it from you.”

you raise your eyebrows at the chief’s tone, taken aback at the sudden change of attitude. a second of tension hangs in the air before the chief bursts out laughing at his little prank.

“sorry, but it was a pain in the ass to get all of those webs off of me and the car.”

you scoff at the chief, looking out to the crowd of people that were still coming in from the main door of the hall. this was some gathering it had to be, diverting your attention back to the buff man standing in front of you.

“are you by yourself or?” you ask the chief again to keep the conversation going.

“thankfully i’m not. i brought company with me for tonight, had to take some convincing though.” the chief replies before turning his head around to get someone’s attention, “park!”

you lean your head to the chief’s left side as you see a woman approach you with a second person in tow right behind her.

the first person that the chief called over looked to be about 5’3 in comparison to your 5’9 height and a clear difference compared to the chief’s frame. you take notice of her high cheekbones, her eyebrows looked recently threaded, skin complexion looking clearly divine, she had a beauty mark that slightly stuck out on the tip of her nose, and her hair was wavy flipped over to the right side of her dress.

“y/n, this is detective park jihyo. my right hand woman and one of my best and brightest in the force.” the chief informs with a hand out towards the detective, jihyo sticking her hand out. you politely obliged with a firm handshake.

“pleasure to meet you jihyo.” you say with a smile.

“likewise y/n, i’ve heard a little bit about you already.”

“that so? well if it’s from the chief’s mouth then it’s probably not true.”

the three of you share a quick laugh as the chief scrunches his face at your joke. soon after that, the second person that was behind jihyo finally merged into the small circle.

the second person was roughly about your height, she wore a velvet red dress that complimented all of the curves on her body nicely. her frame was much similar to the chief’s given the amount of muscle that was peeping through. her face felt too fake to be real, but it was all natural the way it contoured with the slightly darker skin compared to the chief’s. you got lost for a second as the person across from you stared back before the chief broke the silence yet again.

“i haven’t actually introduced you to her yet, but y/n this is my niece.” your face lights up in awe at the new piece of information given, playing along with the act since you already know who she actually was, but the chief didn’t know this, and hopefully you can keep it that way.

“i was about to say that you look very familiar with the chief.” you say to the chief’s niece, locking eyes with her, hands still shaking together. “did he have to drag you here since you couldn’t stay at home?”

the chief’s niece laughs lightly, retracting back with arms crossed, pushing a strand of hair away from her face before answering.

“i’m not really a fan of events like these, but hey, free food!” she exclaimed with open hands, simply nodding at her substantiated reason as the chief glances at the three of you.

“attention everyone, please start taking your seats. the event will be starting in approximately five minutes.” you hear the announcer say on the speakers as everyone starts to settle down, scrambling for open seats around the hall.

“well then, you girls can get acquainted while i find us a table.” the chief exclaims out, clasping his hands together before leaving the small circle that was now consisting of the three of you.

“i suppose we should follow him then while we do that.” jihyo says as she follows the chief’s pathway. you nodded at the plan that the chief started as the chief’s niece started to walk behind jihyo before you stopped her for a quick second to whisper something in her ear.

“didn’t think that you’d be here too, spiderwoman.”

the chief’s niece gawks her head as you smile at the mischievous message you just uttered, rolling her eyes at you, playing along with your little antic.

“very funny magic doctor, but hopefully nothing goes wrong tonight.” she replies, “it’s my day off anyway.”

you pat her shoulder as she continues to walk after jihyo, reaching for her hand as she naturally joins hers without jihyo looking. you didn’t think anything of it, but they did look good together, tracking behind her to the table that was a little bit off to the side of the main dance floor.

—

sitting next to the chief at the table, the light’s dimmed down a bit as the emcee for tonight stood center stage with the microphone and a paper in his hands.

“ladies and gentlemen, i would like to thank all of you who came tonight for this special occasion. tonight we are celebrating the man who has given everything for this city. one who has sacrificed a lot to build the life that he has made, if it weren’t for him, we wouldn’t be standing here tonight in this hall together. he is loved by all with his good graces, so without further ado, please welcome akira myoui and his lovely family!”

the crowd parted like moses with the red sea as the myoui family finally took center stage. greeting the various guests along the way as they walked to the dance floor. the hall erupted with endless applause, setting your eyes on the family clapping along too.

mr. myoui looks to be in healthy shape on the small stage, impressed that for his age that he’s still standing tall with a bright smile across his face as he repeatedly bowed to the audience, thanking them. his wife was also clapping along next to him, almost shedding tears as she tried to wipe her face while clapping.

switching glances from mrs. myoui to their daughter, you’ve only seen her once and that was back at the hospital after the operation, she was very quiet and timid, didn’t really speak much in that first encounter but that was more than a couple years ago compared to now.

myoui mina was it? you try to remember. wait, that can’t be mina now right!?

mina stood aside her parents wearing a one piece dress with the bottom half being flared out to give more breathing room for her legs. her heels were clunky and simple, but she pulled it off so well. you couldn’t help but stare at the elegance that she was emitting just by doing absolutely nothing. refusing to draw your eyes away from her as you become slack jawed.

you could see why she was considered to be the myoui family’s black swan. she was the sole example of beauty perfected on a person. the way her face is outlined in the lighting, making her jawline unreal to look at. her lips were simple but fitting on her, her hair tied in a high ponytail with the ends hanging loosely. you see her turn towards her parents and you notice that the back of her dress was completely exposed, leaving you almost salivating at how flawlessly sculpted and toned her back was.

before you could indulge in eye-fucking her more at a distance, you break your trance, ears picking up the sound of chairs squeaking on the glossy floor as the guests started to take their seats. placing your hand over your mouth, you try your hardest to get that image of mina out of your head before you try to keep yourself occupied by engaging in conversations with jihyo and the chief’s niece for the next couple of minutes before you hear someone tap a couple times on the microphone.

everyone’s attention turns back to the stage as akira myoui holds the microphone proudly, getting a few more applause before he holds a hand up to quiet down the slightly rowdy crowd.

“please please!” he starts off saying, quieting the crowd more as the sound of hands start to dissipate.

“i’d like to keep this speech short as much as possible, but knowing myself, i’ll probably get off track with my three second memory span like a goldfish.”

the audience breaks out in a small laughter as mr. myoui cheekily smiles, tensing his shoulders up as a few ‘woops’ are heard scattered in the crowd.

you couldn’t help but have a sense of content watching your former patient stand in front of you feeling never more alive than he already is. you considered it to be just a small accomplishment that you didn’t realize at the time but it would be a major contribution to his long life as the event you were in was just living proof that he will always be standing despite the many adversities thrown at him.

“i’d like to have everyone take a seat. i’m going to indulge you all with a little story of mine.”

it was going to be a long night indeed, but you didn’t mind the speech taking eons to finish as you were moved by the words of wisdom that was filling your ears with so much knowledge.

—

the speech felt like a seminar speaking back in your college days, but nobody complained because everyone in the room was captivated by mr. myoui’s view on his life with the whole grand hall exploding in cheers as mr. myoui thanked the crowd for listening as he bowed to close the momentous moment.

soon after, about fifteen minutes later, the dance floor was opened for anyone willing to partake as the open area was filled with the lively music played by the lively band.

you weren’t big on dancing, but if someone were to be playing 80’s classics, it would be a different discussion. for the most part, you stood off to the side behind a couple tables conversing with other doctors from a neighboring hospital just a few blocks away from yours.

soobin and sunghoon were your lab partners back in college and they both were practicing physical therapists in contrast to your dabbling with poking inside people’s brains. the three of you were sharing a quick laugh about a college memory with soobin getting absolutely hammered on the week of finals midweek before showing up the next day with no sign of a hangover from his face whatsoever. when you asked him after class he just simply said to you that he had his ways.

nearly laughing your ass off, you catch your breath before speaking again—suddenly you hear a cry for help on the dance floor, turning around in less than a millisecond to see what was happening. at the last second you see the head of a girl dip in your line of vision behind the figure of a man, you didn’t think of it since it might be one of the other guests before your ear hears the name of the woman that fell.

“miss mina are you alright?”

you turn back to see the man attempt to pick up mina, screaming slightly again as you start to make your way closer to the incident.

“get away from me!”

“aw don’t be like that, i thought we were having a moment.” the man says while you stood your ground between the two of them, seeing mina on the floor and the man on one knee with his hand floating next to her right cheek.

without a second thought, you grab the many by his shoulders and tossed him back causing the man to get agitated towards you now.

“hey what the hell?!”

“back away from her, she’s clearly uncomfortable.” irritation clearly rising in your tone as the man simply just scoffed at your action.

“c’mon now, her and i were just having a friendly conversation.” the man replies taking two steps forward, only to be shoved back by you again now getting annoyed with your persistence.

“i can see through your blatant lie you pretentious disgusting fuck.” you harshly say, anger now reaching to your hands as they balled up into fists.

“who do you think you are-”

“what’s going on here?”

the three of you are approached by one of the security guard members with the chief trailing behind to see what was happening.

“someone tried to get a little frisky with myouis’s daughter, but he’s trying to play it off cooly.” you say, pointing to the man standing across giving a disgusting look at you while the guard and chief both look towards the man.

“she’s just making it all up, it’s a lie.”

“then how come mina’s on the floor hmm? care to explain that?”

the man parts his mouth open, tongue caught in his throat as he hangs his head in shame, admitting that he was in the wrong as the surrounding guests watching the altercation gasped in detestation at what they just heard.

“get this guy out of here, what a disgrace from a high working member of society.”

the man was then being escorted away by the security guard and the chief, you then tend to mina’s care who was still on the floor, sitting upright as you got down on one knee to see her condition.

“sorry about all of that, was he troubling you?”

mina shakes her head while you put your hand out to help her up, “a little, he was eying me for a majority of the party so i have to thank you for stepping in.”

once level with you standing, you brush your hands down your blazer before looking back up to mina, not realizing that you were observing her features a lot more closely now compared to earlier, eyes trailing her face as mina tilts her head in curiosity realizing that you were staring for a little bit too long.

mina was about to say something to you, fake coughing in front of her to cover the embarrassment of you glancing at her before you gathered your thoughts in less than 0.9 nanoseconds.

“i believe we met once before, but i’ll introduce myself again.” you begin saying, “i’m y/n, well, doctor l/n since i helped save your father’s life a long while back.”

“i remember, it’s nice to see you again, y/n.” mina responds politely, putting a soft smile that makes you keel over in your head, taking her hand, kissing it as a sign of respect that made mina blush lightly at the feudal act.

—

to step away from the crowd, you follow mina around the endless pathways in the mansion before stopping to opena set of doors leading into the library study. you were left appalled at the towering bookcases that stretched across the room once the lights lit up the darkened place.

“i’ve only seen pictures of this place, it’s amazing to finally see it in person.” you say, jogging lightly to catch up beside mina as softly laughs at you acting like a little kid.

“we don’t normally show what we have inside our estate, but it’s always good to receive compliments like yours every now and then when we have events like these.” mina replies, walking along a bookcase trailing her fingers across the spines of books that have been sitting there for years. some probably touched while the rest were just simply collecting dust.

you leaned against the handrail as you continued to watch mina, everything that she did was with a sense of elegance. the way she rolls her feet on and off the floor almost as if she was gliding on air, crossing your arms with a thought running in your head that you just can’t seem to get out of.

“it’s nice to see you’ve done well for yourself doctor.” mina begins again, turning her gaze back to you with a sly grin tugging on her face that would’ve sent a punch to your stomach the way she was looking. “you’ve put yourself miles ahead with your reputation for health.”

“what makes you say that?” you say hiding a frown reluctantly accepting the curveball compliment.

“there’s something with you y/n, behind those years and years of medical experience that i just want to know about.” she says as she opens a panel that leads to the outside balcony, looking at you flashing a subtle nod at the offer to go outside with her.

“what is it that you like to know? i’m an open book.”

mina hums as she stands overlooking the garden of the family estate below before facing square with you.

“cocktails or charcuterie?”

“nice to have an appetizer before delving into a little bit of concoctions.”

“interesting take.” mina says, pinching her bottom lip before releasing a gummy smile. you smirk at the sight while looking down from the simple yet unique question.

“is it true that you have two PHD’s?”

“got them both simultaneously after medical school.”

mina is taken aback by this trivial piece of information as she tries to think of more questions to break your icy wall of knowledge.

“favorite movie of all time?”

you snort at the sudden simple question as mina bursts trying to compose herself too. “you’re kidding right? there’s no way you ask me that after two questions.” you tease as mina tries to control her laugh at the randomness she just did in front of you, gazing softly at the state—you wish to see her like this around you more often.

“you still have to answer.” mina finally says once finished.

“oppenheimer and interstellar, absolute masterpieces of works.”

mina then turns around to stare at the city skyline, the jungle of skyscrapers and the faint sound of cars on the streets frantically beeping their way around as you stand next to her again, indulging in the same view, letting the cool breeze flow past your bodies.

“did you ever think you would be helping people anywhere else besides here?” mina asks you and you perk your head up at the question.

“not really, this city has been my home for as long as i can remember.”

“even if you wanted to work overseas?”

you shake your head, “i think keeping myself here is a huge favor. i can’t imagine what it’ll be like for your father if i wasn’t here to save him.”

mina’s head dips at the thought before looking at you again with the same soft smile she’s been giving you this whole night.

“i wanted to thank you again for earlier, you looked pretty alluring when you stood up to the creep back in the hall.”

“i also have something.” you say, “you looked extremely dashing when you were on stage. i simply couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”

silence fills the air as mina hears your sudden expression that makes her heart dance leaving her flustered.

“didn’t think that it would be you of all people to tell me that i was beautiful or pretty, doctor.”

your face warms up at your foregoing words, as run your hand through the back of your head, trying to keep yourself cool, getting a motivation to double down your efforts.

“well consider me to be the first doctor to tell you that you’re amazingly striking mina.”

“nothing new with us high class members being bewitched by each other after they just met.” mina says as she leans a little closer to you, lightly placing your fingers on her chin with the both of you staring at each other's lips, allowing the gravity between you two do it's work before you feel a buzz in your pocket.

turning away at the last second as mina stops her movements while you grab your phone from your pocket, letting out a small whine of annoyance through your nose as you see the caller id on your screen.

“sorry mina, i have to take this.” you say as mina shakes her head again and with a hand up while you went back inside to answer the phone. with the phone in your ear you tried to see if your phone was glitching out, noticing the flashing lights outside the paned window—fireworks as the light bursting through with a hint of red color. curious to see if anything was weird, you immediately ignore that thought once the sparking lights along with the red color fading away went back outside to check on mina.

popping your head, you see mina stand there now in the same position as she once was, overlooking the city as you walked back to her, tapping her shoulder which startled her for a second.

“you okay? i saw some fireworks go off.” you ask her as mina hums softly while nodding.

“just taking in the view y/n that’s all.”

“we should head back inside, i think we’ve been here for a little bit longer than expected.”

mina agrees as she turns around, leaning forward from on the stone handrail as you take her hand with yours, leading her back inside and into the ballroom.

—

you and mina return back to the ballroom arms linked together. the music played by the band was still considerably loud while people in the crowd began murmuring again at the sight of you and mina walking in together instinctively giving small nods around before reaching mina’s parents who greeted you happily.

“y/n!” you hear mr. myoui’s voice over the loud music as you and mina turn your attention to him approaching you, unlinking arms to fix your appearance to make yourself more presentable, flashing a hand out for him to shake.

“great to see you still walking mr. myoui!” you exclaim excitedly as mr. myoui takes your hand, bringing you in for a hug as you and him groan out in bright remarks.

“how are you doing?”

“i’ve never felt more alive!”

“that’s good to know. my door is always open for you at my office if you ever want to chat again.” you say as mr and mrs. myoui laugh at the generous offer for your former patient’s wellbeing.

“thank you for stepping into that incident with my daughter earlier, i thought shindong knew better but knowing his dragging of women back at his workplace it seems that he never leaned from his mistakes.”

“i apologize for causing a scene at your party.” you say, placing a hand on your chest and bowing slightly out of respect.

“not at all! you actually did a good deed protecting my daughter mina.” mr. myoui replies, “consider that to be your second good act you’ve done for us.”

“gladly sir, thank you as always.”

“attention everyone, will mr. amd mrs. myoui take to the center of the dance floor for their special dance segment.?” you hear the emcee announce abruptly as the stage light beams down towards you and the myoui’s.

gasps and whoops were heard as they started to make their way past you to the dance floor, letting them pass by you and mina, watching them as the band started playing something slow. a fitting moment once mr. and mrs. myoui held each other lovingly.

a subtle song choice as the band played a cover of a jazzy tune of mr. blue by the fleetwoods. it was also understandable that this was the song that was playing when mr and mrs. myoui first met each other so long ago.

when the song had ended, the crowd applauded the lovely couple as more and more people took to the floor to embark on their own slow dancing. the lights dimmed just a bit as the band started setting the mood with more jazzy tunes. you scan the crowd and see the chief with a pretty lady walking across your line of vision, jihyo and the chief’s niece followed suit not long after too.

you stood there in the crowd of moving people as you contemplated on whether to stand off to the side—but it wasn’t gonna be like that just for tonight. you finally decided it would be fine to let loose a little bit to breakaway from the stress back at the hospital.

mina sits at a nearby table not too far from the dance floor, reaching for a glass of water to drink when she recalls the sudden red light she was staring at on the outside of the balcony. it felt strange—entrancing like the gods from above had sent her a message—a throbbing headache pounds her head as she tries to fight it off with tightly closed eyes. flashes of images pooling in her head of people screaming, a shadow striking down another person, and an eerie hissing sound followed by a low growl before opening her eyes again.

she feels a hand on her shoulder, looking up to meet your worried gaze along your hunched posture. you notice a hint of red lightly fading away from her eyes leaving you puzzled, but you thought nothing of it as you kneeled next to mina on the chair.

“everything okay?”

“yeah, i just had a brain freeze from the cold water.”

you let out a soft sigh followed by a smile, standing up to turn your attention towards the dance floor for a quick second before returning your look back to mina, extending a hand to her with the lights shining behind you, emulating the same aura that mr. myoui had with mrs. myoui just earlier.

“care to dance with me?”

—

this evening had its fair share of twists and turns, but this was easily the best highlight of the night—dancing with a literal icon of the high class with mina with the both of you weaving past the people on the floor to reach the center.

your hands seamlessly find their way to mina’s waist as her’s are neatly wrapped around your neck, the flow of music moving your bodies as you hold her hand out to the side.

it’s like you had a spell activated to turn yourself invisible as everything around you started turning blurry, the only thing that was in your vision was mina—something about her with you just made her 10 times more ethereal with the ambience of the band playing a slow song, the lights nearly off in the hall with the nightlight effect emitting from the hanging chandelier’s.

something about the band playing a dean martin cover, it awoke a version of you that was rowdy with love. mina was just getting lost in the music, breaking her vibe by pulling her closer to you. you already noticed earlier but your outfit and hers really complimented each other nicely. all of the big designer companies should take notes with the contrasting angles that your suit and mina’s dress fit on your bodies.

the space between you two was now just within a few inches of each other, mina’s hand now at your chest as your hand was still on the small of her back—a lot more closer with meeting eyes again—the same tempting pupils that were seen back on the balcony with the air around now thickening rigidly.

“say…what were you going to do when we were together back on the roof?” mina asks you with her voice above a small tone.

“when my fingers were on your chin and when you were staring at my lips?” you mumble, earning a sigh coming out of mina’s parted lips.

you then do the same motion with your fingers like earlier, mina leaning closer again, but this time the distance was just mere centimeters at this point.

“what’s your diagnosis of this we’re doing y/n?” mina whispers to you, tilting her head slightly, the desire pulling the string more and more by the second.

“how bout we just-” you cut yourself off by mirroring the same actions with mina and before you could have any second thoughts, her lips met yours.

staring at her lips earlier was one thing, but feeling them was a completely different thing. they were just as plump and soft as they looked. mina’s fingers sliding on your cheek with you pulling her closer. luckily the room was dark enough for no one else to notice, you didn’t care about the repercussions that might follow if someone noticed—you were always about living life on the edge every now and then. kissing the myoui family’s black swan was no different.

mina pulls away for a quick second, the music still ringing through your ears as she pecks you again with a slight urge than before, catching her breath again as you meet her half-lidded eyes. but before you two could continue once more, there was something out of place.

her eyes glowed red again.

you pull her for another quick kiss as mina slides her arm under yours, you still place your hand on her face, fingers getting tangled with your hair before you hear a faint hiss come out of mina.

opening your eyes to see what was happening, mina slid down from kissing your face down to your neck, tickling your pulse point as you gasped out in a slight surprise. she then hissed again when she pulled herself away, diving back into your neck, but you then felt a sharp pain suddenly—pushing mina away from you when another hiss was heard from her, turning into a growl as she gnawed on your neck one more time, properly leaving a mark with the guests surrounding you two started to take notice of what happened.

the music abruptly stopped and the lights flickered back on again. murmurs from the crowd only increased while you felt your neck from the sudden pain that it received, noticing your fingers were laced with drops of your blood. the pain soon kicked in as more and more party guests took steps back.

your head was spinning and your vision was getting blurrier. you staggered for a bit as mina watched you stumble down on the floor, fading into unconsciousness. the last thing that you noticed passing out was that mina had fangs coming out of her teeth.

screams from the guests could be heard as your vision had completely faded into blackness.

#saiiidahyunee #twice x reader #twice imagines #kpop x reader #twice mina #myoui mina #mina imagines #mina x reader

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thalialunacy · 12 days

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[for the @calaisreno May Prompts Faire. g-rated today, lol.]

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15) (16) 17: chaos

'Daddy! Tiger!'

John, who had been focused on his eReader, finds his daughter standing in front of him with a manic light in her eye. 'Tiger!'

He looks around the sitting room until his eyes land on the plush tiger Sherlock had gifted her those weeks ago, then he holds it out to her. 'Say please, Rosie.'

She grabs onto it and waddles off, definitely not saying anything resembling please. John rolls his eyes, lips twitching.

Two days later, she refuses to leave the flat, which is new and different. 'No, Daddy! Tiger will be lonely!'

John drops his head in defeat. 'Sherlock, will you--' Sherlock reappears, holding the toy, before John has a chance to finish the sentence. 'Thank you,' he says tiredly.

And so forth.

'D'you think she's got an imaginary friend tiger?' he ponders aloud as he and Sherlock wait behind a delicious-smelling Burmese restaurant for some counterfeiters. 'She seems awfully keen.'

'Hmm,' is Sherlock's non-answer, and John huffs, watching as the detective's mind churns through the facts of the case and completely ignores everything else. Some things never change, John thinks. Thank god.

Luckily (?), the mystery is solved the very next day.

Everyone in the household is very sleepy and warm, recharging from the excitement of the past week, so the sitting room is quiet and peaceful in a way it rarely is.

Which means, of course, that it must be shattered.

'Tiger!' Rosie suddenly shrieks from Sherlock's lap, and slides off so quickly she loses her balance but scrambles back up, unfazed, to shamble towards their visitor.

Which is a cat.

A rotund, wide-eyed, orange-striped cat.

'Tiger!' his daughter yells again, and the cat is off like a shot.

'Whoa there,' John says, scooping Rosie up and turning to follow the path of the creamsicle tornado. It's swift, the cat disappearing (back?) into Sherlock's room with alacrity, but surprisingly destructive.

John quickly assesses the aftermath while Rosie squirms to go after her new best friend. The skull is on the ground, books and papers are absolutely everywhere, a couple frames have jumped off the walls somehow, Sherlock's spindly music stand has wilted in terror, and Rosie's toys are, if it's even possible, even more of a chaotic mess than they'd been minutes before.

John closes his eyes and prays for patience. Both his and Sherlock's. But then he hears--

He opens his eyes to find Sherlock laughing. Doubled over laughing, in fact.

'Are you…' John asks dubiously, eyeing him. '... all right? Did it destroy something you hated?'

Sherlock snorts. 'No, no, it's just--' He puts his hands on his hips and clears his throat, the grin echoing on his face. 'Twenty years ago, if you'd told me I'd one day not only be sober, but with a partner and child and now a housepet--' He barks out another laugh, seemingly unable to stop himself.

John grins at the word "partner," then clocks the rest of the sentence. 'Wait-- We're keeping it?'

'Yes!' Rosie contributes with gusto. 'Keeping the tiger!'

Sherlock strides over and plucks Rosie out of John's arms. 'Yes, we are. Inasmuch as one can keep a cat used to the out of doors,' he amends. 'What shall we name him, Rosamund?'

'His name is Reginald,' Rosie says. Or at least, John thinks that's what she says. She's barely two and a half, after all, and John still sometimes feels like she's speaking a foreign language.

Sherlock, though, nods as if he heartily agrees. 'Reginald is a fine name. Your father will have to go and procure some food, a box, and probably some flea-preventative, and then our new friend Reginald will be all set.'

John starts to protest, but both his daughter and Sherlock turn big eyes on him, and he has absolutely no chance. 'Yeah, sure,' he says dryly. 'You can hold down the fort while I do so?'

Sherlock waves a hand, already moving on to walk Rosie around the room, presumably assessing damage. 'Of course.'

'Right.' John shrugs on his coat and heads out.

The last thing he hears is, 'Now, did you know, Rosamund, that a group of tigers is known as an "ambush" or a "streak"?'

Child, partner, cat, John contemplates as he steps out into the grey brightness. It's exactly what he'd thought for himself twenty years ago. Except... nothing like that at all.

Thank god.

[❤️]

#MayPrompts2024 #It's gonna be MAY 2024 #johnlock #parentlock #domestic fluff #BBC Sherlock #fluffy ficlet #I just really wanted them to have a soft orange boi ok

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gregorovitch-adler · 9 months

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Embrace

John was done with the grocery shopping earlier than expected. He'd realised that they already had many of the things they needed at home - out of the ones he'd written on the list.

John carried a medium-sized cloth bag and stood at the curb near one of the shops to hail a cab.

He gave the address to the cab driver and got in.

It had been two months since Sherlock had returned from the dead. He had shown up at a restaurant out of nowhere, just when John was about to propose to Mary, and John had punched him in the face no less than three times.

Once he'd realised exactly why Sherlock had to fake his death - the reason being three snipers who were appointed by Moriarty for him, Mrs Hudson and Lestrade, each - John had felt guilty.

However, John never talked about it to Sherlock, after they'd had a long conversation about why Sherlock was forced to do it.

Mary had broken up with John for unrelated reasons shortly after. Or who knows, they might've been related to this incident. Apparently, he was too preoccupied with Sherlock to remember to propose to her properly, even after a week past Sherlock's return.

John was disappointed about the breakup at first, but he'd got on with his life with Sherlock, back at Baker Street.

John had fallen in love with Sherlock a long time ago. When he thought the man was dead, he tried to do just about anything to be able to move on. Not that he succeeded, but still.

When John moved back in to Baker Street again, after his break up with Mary, he became painfully aware that those feelings were still there. Very much present.

The cab stopped in front of the apartment building 221, Baker Street. John paid the driver and hopped out.

He carried his bag in his left hand as he climbed the stairs to his flat.

At least there was one thing to be happy about: he could call this place 'his' again. Life was pretty okay, even with having Sherlock back as his friend if not anything more.

He didn't do anything about how he felt. How could he now, if he couldn't before Sherlock's staged suicide? That was out of the question.

John thought that being able to live with Sherlock again, as his flatmate, was more than enough.

As he reached the top level of the staircase, he found that the door was wide open.

The moment John entered the flat, his jaw dropped at what he saw.

Sherlock had slipped out of his white shirt and was picking up a worn-out grey T-shirt to put on from his chair beside the desk. Sherlock was facing the window of the sitting room, standing near the bison skull, with his back to John.

Sherlock's back was covered with bruises and actual knife marks. It was completely black and blue.

John realised that he didn't even ask what had happened to Sherlock when he was away.

John frowned as he closed the door behind him and walked across the room to place the shopping bag on the coffee table.

"Oh, you're back! I thought you'd take some more time," Sherlock said, without turning around to face John as he made to go to his bedroom with his T-shirt and pyjamas on, sounding embarrassed.

"Sherlock wait! You were just standing there before. Where are you going now?" asked John as he made quick strides across the room to approach Sherlock.

"Nothing, I just..." Sherlock trailed off, still not looking up at John.

"I have a question. What happened to you when you were away?"

Sherlock squeezed his eyes shut. "We were done talking about that, weren't we? You don't have to bring it up again."

"Yes, I do," said John, his voice shaking a bit. "Especially after what I just saw. Please tell me."

"I have an experiment to do," said Sherlock, looking here and there, anywhere but at John.

John wasn't taking any of it. "Why go to the bedroom then? Stop avoiding me and answer the question: What happened to you when you were away?" John hated how desperate he sounded. But he didn't care. He needed to know.

Sherlock took a deep breath and exhaled.

"Look at me."

Sherlock looked into John's eye, with his piercing blue gaze. He turned to John to face him properly.

He began in a low voice. "They whipped me. With canes. They stabbed me in the back more than a dozen times. Kept me in shackles in a confined, dark room. Starved me. Didn't let me sleep. They'd hit me again if I dared to doze off."

"Jesus," John whispered. "And you endured all that for me, Mrs H and Lestrade? For two years?"

"Mostly you," said Sherlock under his breath, but John caught that.

John blinked and swallowed. "Sherlock." John stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Sherlock's neck, trying to be careful of his wounds on the back.

Sherlock made a surprised sound but eventually, he placed his arms around John's waist.

The two men held each other in a tight embrace. Torsos pressing against each other, with John holding on to Sherlock, trying to express what he felt for him through this embrace alone.

Sherlock's arms were raking over John's back.

John broke the brief silence. "Then you came back, and I reacted the way I did, aggravating your wounds and pain even more. I'm so sorry, Sherlock. I really am." John bit his lower lip. "Please forgive me."

"It's fine. I didn't explain myself to you properly that night. Shouldn't have shown up as a waiter, especially when you were with Mary. I just... couldn't think of any other way. I did what I thought best at that time."

"No, you're right. I get it. I should've listened to your side of everything too. Sorry."

"It's okay, John. I've stopped thinking about it, ever since I explained everything to you. You should too."

John nodded but still kept holding him, as if unable to detach himself from this rare opportunity to have some physical contact with Sherlock.

Sherlock didn't let go of him either. But a few moments later, it became a little awkward.

Sherlock cleared his throat. "John, is there anything else...?"

"I love you," John blurted out heavily. "I always have."

Sherlock pulled away from John a bit, to look into his eyes. He looked vulnerable from this angle as if he was trying to test something.

Whatever Sherlock saw in John's eyes, made him pull John close by the collar of his shirt and press a hard kiss against his mouth.

John let out a relieved sound and opened his mouth to deepen the kiss.

John ran his fingers through Sherlock's hair and kept kissing him, unable to make himself stop.

After some time, Sherlock pulled him close for a hug again and said, "I love you too."

John's vision was blurred but his heart bursted with joy as he kept holding on to Sherlock.

Sherlock September Challenge by @onesmallfamily

Prompt: Embrace

Tagging: @keirgreeneyes , @lisbeth-kk , @topsyturvy-turtely , @helloliriels , @gaylilsherlock , @peanitbear , @curlyjohnlock , @clueless-mp4, @lookingforlifeoutthere , @kettykika78, @a-victorian-girl

#johnlock #bbc sherlock #ficlet #angst with a happy ending #apology #sherlock x john #sherlock holmes/john watson #sherlock holmes #john watson #sherlockian #sherlock headcanon #new ficlet #embrace

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itwasthereaminuteago · 7 days

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|| Black eyed & Blue ||

Chapter 1 - Skull & Crossed Wires

Frank Castle x Female Reader/OC

Notes: I'm posting this first short chapter in my Frank Castle and female OC/reader mini series in the hope that it will spur me on to finish it! I have some other chapters written already just need to get them where I want them and write some more. 😊

Warnings: kidnapping, blood, biting, general vampire themes, fluff & smut, frank being protective, Matt makes an appearance.

Please comment and let me know what you enjoy or would like to see as the story develops and I'll see what I can do!

Frank managed to limp his van to the nearest garage before it crapped out entirely. He had cleared it out after his latest 'road trip' back at the safe house. It wouldn't do any good if the mechanics found any of his arsenal…

He left them with the keys and said he'd check back in a couple of days. Leaving a cell number was out of the question too, he still wasn't quite comfortable leaving much of a trace even if he was now 'Pete'.

He walked up to the shop office two days later, hopeful he could throw down a few hundred and get going. A fraught looking gangly guy was having an in-depth discussion on the phone as he entered. He passively waved Frank in the direction of the garage floor, pulling the phone away from his mouth and yelling towards the doorway.

"Blue! Customer!"

Frank gave him a semi-polite nod and headed through the side door where his van was jacked up, a pair of dark blue Converse sticking out from underneath.

"Uh, right. Guess it ain't ready yet." Frank ventured.

"No shit Sherlock." A voice came from below.

"Can see why you got Shaggy on the front desk there, customer service ain't your thing huh?"

The feet peddled their way out from under the van to reveal a woman with her hair tied up out of her face with a blue bandana. She had an oil-smudged face, and chipped sky blue nail polish on her fingers. Her mouth dropped open as she pushed herself up and took in the figure of Frank standing over her.

"Oh fuck- I mean, shit! Damn! Fuck!" She winced. "I'm really sorry mister… thought you were Ray winding me up again. Sorry, I'm trying not to cuss as much but, um…"

Frank couldn't help the sly smile from spreading across his lips.

"Think you're doin' well enough. Don't you worry about it. Maybe uh, you can gimme an idea when she'll be ready?"

She got to her feet, wiping her oily hands on her dirty coveralls, which were also blue.

"Well, that's the thing. I'm still waiting for a part to come. I woulda called you to let you know but, uh, you didn't leave a number so…

"Yeah, don't have a phone." He scratched at the back of his neck uncomfortably. "Kinda hate all that tech shit y'know."

"Wow. Well, okay old man, I'm not sure exactly when it'll arrive, our supplier is vague at the best of times, I really wanna find someone better but…"

Frank couldn't help grumbling a little. He was keen to get back on the road, after all, biker gang ass wasn't gonna kick itself. "Then I guess 'i'll just keep comin' back every day till she's ready."

Blue smiled politely. "Once it's here I'll get it fixed as fast as I can but if you refuse to have a phone like us regular people I guess that's just what you'll have to do. See you tomorrow then?"

Frank nodded. "Yeah. See ya tomorrow."

The next day Frank dropped by the garage late afternoon, he'd had a particularly rough night chasing down some dregs of the Dogs of War that refused to go down easily.

"Jeez, what the heck happened to you?" Blue asked, looking up and seeing the dark bruises around his eyes as she heard him come in. "I mean, if you don't mind me asking? Those are some shiners."

"Walked into the side of the door when I got up during the night to piss. Bein' how I'm an 'old man' an all," Frank deadpanned back.

"No shit. You gotta be more careful, looks a bit like someone belted you right in the kisser!"

Frank shrugs.

"To be honest I wouldn't be too surprised if they had. Don't take this the wrong way but you've kinda got one of those punchable looking faces, mister..?"

"It's uh, Pete." Frank replies with a slight chuckle, only slightly offended. "And is that so?"

She holds out her oily hand for him to shake. "Hi Mister Pete. They call me Blue. And yeah, I mean you're real good looking and all but-" she stopped as Frank shook his head and laughed.

"Jeez, I really gotta stop running my mouth around strangers! I am so sorry…"

Frank holds up both hands giving her a smile, it had been a while since he had laughed as much. "Hey, no worries. Punchable and good lookin'? I'll take it. So, Blue, huh? No need for me to ask why I guess. "

She returns the smile, scuffing the toe of her shoe into the ground shyly. "I just like the colour."

Frank clears his throat. "So uh, there any news on that part yet?"

"Oh! Yeah, um it might be tomorrow but…"

"Might not?" Frank finishes with a slightly tense shrug.

"Yeah, really sorry about this, Pete. I'd even go as far as to offer you a free coffee in apology but our machine's bust, and even if it was working it tastes crap anyway."

"Don't worry about it. Alright well, guess I'll seeya tomorrow again."

Blue gave him a little wave. "Yeah, seeya tomorrow Old Man, hope I've got some good news for you then."

Frank just shakes his head, smiling to himself as he leaves the garage and sets off back home.

The next day, when Frank turns up, Blue's face is bright with the biggest smile, and it only got brighter as she saw what 'Pete' had in his hands.

"Hey!" She greets him animatedly and it makes him feel a little warmer inside.

Frank nods then hands her one of the carryout cups of coffee he has. "Hey, didn't know how you take it but I got some sugar and milk here too if you want, seeing as your machine is broken an all."

Blue beams, her fingers brushing briefly over his as she accepts it. "Oh, thank you so much! And no, that's great, straight up is perfect, so kind of you, thanks Pete!"

Frank shrugs. "S'nothin'."

She takes a hearty sip and then remembers what she was about to say. "Good news by the way, the part arrived this morning! I'm about to get on it right now, shouldn't take too long if you don't mind waiting?"

Frank nods, finding a space to sit nearby. "Yeah, sure, if you don't mind me watching you work."

She disappears under the van. "Actually, gives me the chance to ask what the hell you've been putting this poor van through, you gotta take more care of her if you don't want to run her into the ground."

Frank huffed. "Yeah, just been real busy, y'know, and my work takes me all kinds of places, some uh, rough terrain."

"What kind of business are you in Pete?"

He scratches the stubble under his chin. "Uh, removals, pest control, odd jobs. That kinda stuff."

"A Pete of all trades?" Blue suggests, and Frank has to laugh.

"Yeah," again he feels the rare smile stretch his face as he strokes his stubbled jaw. "Somethin' like that."

It wasn't till later, when he was on the road again rummaging through the glovebox for the map when his hand landed on the tin of sweets. He took them out, curious seeing the note stuck to the lid.

'Something to sweeten you up, old man :)

-Blue'

He chuckles to himself as he opens the tin and takes a candy.

#frank castle x oc/reader series #frank castle fluff #frank castle smut #frank castle x female reader/oc

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blairboo · 10 months

Text

Idk if anyone has ever said something similar to this before but~

I imagine with Sherlock’s skull ring is from a pair, he always has the other in his pocket or something. Whenever the time is right he casually asks for William’s hand, drops the ring in it and closes his hand around it. And then he sheepishly walks off because he hasn’t really done anything like this before. But luckily for him William has a big ole wrinkly brain and immediately discerns the meaning behind the gesture.

And that’s how their proposal went, they’re married now with 10 kids living happily ever after.

#billy was the one who officiated it #Louis got drunk to cope with the pain of being in laws with him #and they’re kids are 10 cats because they seem like cat people to me #sherliam #moriarty the patriot #william james moriarty #sherlock holmes #sherlock x william #headcanon #silly thoughts~

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fandom-imagines-stories · 10 months

Text

Annapolis

Season Two Episode Nine

Dr. Spencer Reid x Reader (Aaron Hotchner’s Sister)

Words: 4574

Series Masterlist

Summary: Based on season four episode 24. Y/N breaks protocol when Spencer is infected with a deadly virus.

Notes: Like usual, I’m going to be using some scenes from the episode (Amplification) and making some up for the story. I know that this definitely isn’t super realistic and that Y/N would definitely just be arrested or something, but it’s all *for the plot.*

You focused on the twirl of your spoon in the mug while several expectant gazes wore you down from across the table. The spring morning filled the air with a slight breeze, but you felt heat rise in your face under the three agent’s stares.

“What?” You asked innocently.

Emily raised a brow, JJ gave you a knowing smile, and Penelope looked ready to burst.

You took a sip of your coffee. “Have I mentioned how much I hate profilers?”

“It’s not our fault that loverboy has a terrible poker face,” Emily said.

Penelope beamed. “He’s been over the moon for weeks now and I can think of one specific reason that would make him act that way.”

You blushed, shaking your head but couldn’t hide your smile.

“So you are back together!” Penelope squealed, earning a few glances from other cafe patrons.

“We’re still figuring things out,” you said. You held your coffee in your hands, letting the warmth meet your palms as you rolled it back and forth nervously. “It’s not as simple as it used to be.”

“You love him. He loves you. That seems pretty simple to me,” she said. JJ and Emily gave her a look. “What? Don’t tell me you haven’t been heartbroken for them for the past six months.”

“Y/N’s right,” JJ said. “Things like this aren’t easy in a relationship. It takes time.”

Emily nodded in agreement, though Penelope couldn’t stop grinning at you. You decided to throw her a little bit of a bone, so to speak.

“We started reading again, which has been nice,” you started. You felt a little like a schoolgirl describing her first date, but maybe a little juvenile lightness was what you all needed. “Sherlock Holmes. I think it helps us sleep better.”

“Does this mean you’re moving back in?” Emily wondered.

“And miss out on sleeping on my brother’s air mattress? Why would I ever do that?” You snarked.

She chuckled. “Fair enough.”

“That is the cutest thing I’ve ever heard,” Penelope gushed. “I love love.”

“Speaking of which, enough about me,” you said. “What about you and Kevin?”

While she went into an excited ramble about her boyfriend not moving across seas on a new job, the final member of your coffee date- and your sometimes roommate- walked up to the table.

“Sorry I’m late,” Haley grimaced. “I had to take Jack to school and the parking lot there is a nightmare.”

“Oh my god, that reminds me,” JJ said, turning to you. “How is Hotch? He went for a bit of a spin on our last case.”

You rolled your eyes. “He’s fine. Or at least that’s what he says every time I ask, which I wouldn’t have to do if he didn’t use his SVU as a battering ram.”

“He does have a knack for head injuries, doesn’t he?” Haley laughed.

“Good thing he has a thick skull,” Emily teased.

“Har har.” You took another drink of coffee. “All I’m saying is that I would love to go one week without one of you guys doing something stupidly heroic and almost dying.”

JJ laughed, shaking her head. “Good luck with that.”

Whatever light mood was left from that morning quickly evaporated as the team stood around the table, a container of pills in each hand. They didn’t even know if the Cipro would be effective. A new strain, Dr. Kimura said. Men in military uniforms bustled around the bullpen.

The weight of what was going on settled into everyone’s minds.

“This is really happening?” Prentiss uttered.

Hotch nodded. “We knew this could happen,” he said gravely. “We’ve done our homework. We’ve prepared for this. This is it.” He dumped the pills into his mouth.

Rossi held up his cup.

“Jin dan,” he toasted. “May you live a hundred years.”

The rest of the team took the medicine and tried not to imagine what would happen if it didn’t work. With their assignments in mind, everyone started to disperse, but Reid stayed toward the back. Dr. Kimura gave him a grim nod as she left with the others. He hid the fear that was clouding his mind.

He pulled Hotch aside as they walked out.

“Y/N has an interview with an inmate awaiting trial at JRDC,” he whispered. “That’s in Annapolis.”

Hotch swallowed. “I know.”

“And you don’t think we should tell her not to go?” Reid exclaimed.

“We can’t.”

“We have no idea where the unsub will strike next. What if she goes out for lunch in a crowded area and-”

“Reid.” Hotch stared at him intensely. “We can’t. The media blackout order means nobody can know. If this gets out, people will panic.”

He knew he was right. Reid wanted to remain detached and logical, but all he could think about was the image of the woman he loved choking on her own blood.

“I’m just getting her back, Hotch,” he pleaded. “I can’t risk losing her again.”

Hotch put a hand on his shoulder. “Then we focus on solving this as quickly as possible.” He hid his own terror behind a mask. Inside, he was just as worried as the younger agent and wanted nothing more than to tell Y/N not to leave the apartment. He wanted to call Haley and tell her to pick up Jack from school. He wanted to protect his team from the danger they were facing. But he couldn’t. “Now let’s get started.”

While Hotch stayed at the office-turned-base of operations, Reid went with Dr. Kimura to speak with the surviving victims of the attack in the park. All the while, both had you in the back of their mind.

Unaware of the situation, you drove into Annapolis with Sir Arthur Conan Doyal in your head. Spencer’s voice reading the words of the brilliant detective made you smile. The sun streamed into your windows and traffic couldn't even seem to bother you. It was a perfect morning.

You were about to pull into the Jennifer Road Detention Center parking lot when your phone rang. It was Sonia.

“Hey, I know you’ve already driven out, but I just got a call from the warden. Apparently, Sergio Marks got into a fight this morning and is in critical condition,” she explained.

“You’re kidding,” you sighed. “And here I was looking forward to being stuck in a room with an accused wife killer.”

Despite your sarcasm, you were actually kind of bummed to miss out on the interview. With Marks’ court date coming up, you’d been hoping to compare his behavior before and during the trial.

“I’ll head back then,” you said. “I’ve got some other cases I can look into today.”

“The other studies can wait,” Sonia said. “Why don’t you take the day off?” Before you could argue, she continued. “You’ve been working like a dog ever since you got back. Don’t think I haven’t noticed. You don’t have to prove anything to me, sweetie. You could spend some time with that cute FBI boyfriend of yours.”

“I think they’re on a case,” you laughed.

“Then take some time to just breathe, honey. I know Maryland isn’t exactly a vacation spot, but I’m sure you’ll find something there. I heard there’s a nice bookstore in town,” she said. “Your work will be here when you get back.”

“I guess I can go shopping or something,” you shrugged. She was right. Annapolis wasn’t a big city, but you should be able to find something to entertain yourself. Besides, you’d probably just go home and worry about the BAU while they were on whatever case they had now.

“I’ll sort things out with Marks. Have a nice time.” Sonia hung up, leaving you with the rest of the day to relax.

Prentiss stood amongst the bustle of people, staring into the bookstore as the men in hazmat suits closed the blinds. If they found evidence of the virus, it was proof that the bookstore was the site of the unsub’s test run.

The victims had died within three hours of being admitted to the hospital.

Morgan hung up the phone with JJ. Prentiss looked at all of the civilians surrounding them.

“Look at all these people just going about their lives,” she said. “If they only knew what we were doing here.”

Morgan scowled. “It’s better that they don’t.” He said something else, but Prentiss couldn’t hear him. Her scanning eyes settled on a familiar face across the street.

“Oh my god,” she muttered. “Is that Y/N?”

Morgan turned his head just as you noticed them. To both of their dread, you crossed the street, a beaming smile spread across your face.

“Hey strangers,” you greeted, seeming more chipper than Derek had seen you in a while. “What are you guys doing here?” From their serious expressions, it only took you a moment to understand. “Oh.”

“Why are you here?” Derek asked.

“I was going to look at some books, but the store owner apparently got really sick and died a few days ago…” You trailed off, making more connections in your mind. “Is that why the team is here?”

The two exchanged a look.

It didn’t take your degree in psychology to realize that they were scared.

“Derek, talk to me.”

They both seemed to receive a message through their earpieces. Derek pulled you aside, weary of the attention of bystanders picking up on the tension in your tone.

“Everything’s fine,” he said. “We just can’t talk about the case.”

The firmness in his tone and the tightness of his grip told you everything and nothing at the same time.

“Okay,” you nodded. Your eyes went to the bookstore behind him and it’s closed blinds. Something was going on. “Be careful, okay?”

“Always am.” He faked his usual smirk, hoping to calm you down.

“I guess I’ll see you back in D.C.” You smiled to convince him he had.

If you weren’t going to interview a murderer, then maybe you could figure out what the hell had two of the toughest people you knew terrified.

Whatever it was, no one would answer their phone. Aaron was radio silence and you hadn’t heard from Spencer since earlier in the morning. You checked the news every couple of minutes to see if anything had leaked, but all you could find was something about a park being shut down for methane in the sewers.

“That must be connected,” you muttered to yourself. You kept racking your brain for something that made sense. If it were a bomb threat, Derek and Emily wouldn't have just been standing around waiting for it to explode. A shooter, they probably wouldn’t have kept it under wraps as intensely as they were.

The only thing that you could think of was chemical or biowarfare. If someone was going after people with some kind of poisonous gas or airborne antigen, it might explain why everything had to be kept such a secret. And the government could have called in the BAU to help them find who was responsible before they struck again.

You tried your brother again, but there was still no answer. Something was definitely wrong.

“If no one is going to help me,” you said, pulling up to the library, “then I am going to help myself.”

Morgan and Reid observed the house with an uneasy air between them. It looked so normal, but inside more agents and scientists were tirelessly searching for traces of the disease or mediums to transport it. So far, they hadn’t turned up anything.

“This guy just had people over for a charity event last month,” Morgan noted. Something about all of this felt off. Too simple.

“We should probably take a look around anyway,” Reid said.

The two agents started down the driveway to the other side of the house. So focused on the matter at hand, Reid caught his hand on a rose bush along the path. The thorn scratched the back of his hand, creating a gash he chose to ignore.

“So Y/N’s in the area,” Morgan said grimly. “Prentiss and I saw her when we were checking out the bookstore.” He shook his head, eyebrow quirked in a mildly impressed expression. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she figures all this out even with the media blackout.”

“She’s taught a course on bio-terrorism, so I’m sure she’ll pick up on something,” Reid shrugged. He’d been trying not to think about you and had been unsuccessful. Just knowing you could get caught up in all this made it hard to focus on anything else. But Hotch was right. The sooner this was solved, the sooner you’d be out of harm’s way. “But the higher-ups seem to have this pretty locked down. I’m sure she’s just going about her day like any other.”

Morgan eyed him. “Right.”

The older agent’s phone rang and he answered, listening as Prentiss told him what they’d figured out at the lab.

Reid continued on through the garden, jumping as a sprinkler spouted to life. The sound of the water covered whatever Morgan was saying. The sliding door to the garden led into what he quickly recognized as Dr. Nichols’ office. From there, he saw two things and processed them in the same thought.

The first was the body of Dr. Lawrence Nichols. A large head wound and a pool of drying blood signaled that the scientist had been dead for a while.

The second was a broken vial spilling white powder onto the floor.

“Reid?” Morgan called after him.

He didn’t think of anything after that. He just rushed to the door and slid it closed just as Morgan caught up with him.

“Morgan get back,” he exclaimed. “Get back!”

“What are you doing?”

“Get out of here. Believe me. Get back.” All he could think about was keeping Morgan away from the substance he was sure had already infected himself.

“What’s wrong?” Morgan asked, panic rising in his tone. “Reid, open the door.”

Reid just looked at him, locking the door with eyes that betrayed his distress. “I’m sorry.” His voice cracked with the toppling realization of what this really meant.

He breathed in the substance. He contracted this new, terrifying strand of anthrax.

He was going to die.

No. Reid ran a shaking hand down his face. He could figure this out. There had to be a cure. He could do this.

“I’m calling Hotch,” Morgan said, pacing hurriedly in front of the glass.

“I’ll be fine,” Reid lied. “I have all of Nichols’ notes. I can find the cure.”

“We’re getting you to the hospital.”

Reid shook his head. “You need to get away. I don’t know if any of the powder got into the air.”

“I’m not going anywhere-”

“Morgan, now!” The firmness in the younger agent’s voice took Morgan by surprise.

He moved out to the garden, making sure Reid was still in view, and made the call.

By the time Hotch and the others arrived, Reid had made up his mind. And, despite Morgan’s protests, their unit chief agreed that the best thing for Reid to do was to work to find the cure somewhere in the lab.

Until a car pulled up across the street, having followed the sirens after spending most of the afternoon researching locals in the library.

You spotted the dark hair and neat suit as you came up the sidewalk. People in hazmat suits hurried in and out of the house your brother stood in front of. He bore a similar expression to what you’d seen on the other BAU members earlier, only now Morgan looked even worse standing beside him.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry this is a restricted area.” A man in uniform stepped in front of you.

“I know them,” you muttered, trying to look over his shoulder.

He grabbed your arm. “If you won’t leave voluntarily, I’ll have to remove you.”

“What’s going on?”

“Ma’am-”

“Aaron!”

Your brother’s head whipped around at the sound of his name and his expression went from controlled worry to a furious glare in no time.

“Okay so this is bad,” you said to yourself.

“I’m going to have to take you back to your car,” the man in uniform sighed, starting to pull you away.

“Get off of me.” You tried to yank away, but his grip was firm. “Aaron! See, I know them.”

The man kept pulling you backward until another voice shouted at him.

“Hey, let her go!” Agent Morgan ordered, darting across the lawn over to you.

Aaron walked slowly, but you could tell by the tension in his movements that he was anything but calm.

“Y/N, what the hell are you doing here?” Derek snapped.

“I knew something was wrong so I did some digging and then I followed the sirens,” you said, still trying to free your arm from the soldier. “What the hell is going on?��

“I told her she had to leave-” The soldier tried pulling again.

Derek put a hand on his arm. “I said let her go.”

The man hesitated, but eventually released you and went to join one of his superiors.

“This clearly isn’t a normal case,” you said, crossing your arms. “What’s happening?”

“If I could tell you, I would have, but you really can’t be here.” His jaw tensed and his eyes flicked down to the necklace you always wore. A locket in the shape of a book. The present you’d gotten from Spencer.

A shock of icy fear rushed through you. “Derek, where’s Spence?”

“You can’t be here.”

“Where is he?”

“He’s inside,” Aaron said. From the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice, you knew.

“This is Dr. Lawrence Nichols’ house,” you said.

“Yes.”

“He wrote studies on anthrax.”

Aaron sighed. “Yes.”

“How did you know that?” Derek asked.

“You're not the only ones who know how to investigate something,” you said. You pushed past them, following the trail of panicked people in hazmat suits around the house, just where you could see a glass door.

Aaron caught you before you could get any closer.

“I have to see him.” You fought against his arms as they locked around you. “Let me go, Aaron.”

“We don’t know if there are still traces of the substance outside of the lab. Even if it’s sealed we can’t-”

“I don’t care. I can’t just leave him in there. Do you know what this will do to his body? I’ve studied anthrax, Aaron. I can’t just… I can’t…”

“The best thing you can do for Reid is let him work.” Your brother turned you around, keeping his hands on your arms so you couldn’t get away. “He’ll find the cure and he’ll be fine.”

“If you believed that, you wouldn’t still be here, waiting for him to die,” you snapped.

Aaron swallowed, closed his eyes, and didn’t say anything else.

“Keep an eye on her,” he told Derek. “We still have to find the apprentice.”

He stormed off and Derek gave you a look that said he’d stop you before you even thought of taking another step.

Inside, Spencer held his cell phone with a trembling hand and coughed in between his words.

On the other end, a saddened voice greeted him, lacking her usual pep.

“Hey, Reid.”

“Reid, wow,” he teased. “No witty Garcia greeting for me?”

Garcia grimaced, trying to laugh for him. “I can’t be my sparkly self when you are where you are.”

He took a deep breath. While part of his brain was scrambling to figure out where Nichols might have the cure that could save him, the other side was plaguing his thoughts of who he was leaving behind.

What would happen to his mom? How many times would the nurses have to tell her that her only son was dead before her brain allowed her to realize it? And even if she did, how long before she would forget and have to go through the grief all over again?

And then there was Y/N.

Just when things started looking better…

“Garcia,” he said, holding back a fit of coughing, “do you think you could do something for me?”

You didn’t know how long you sat there, waiting to hear whether or not the area had been cleared. Derek stayed with you and you explained how you figured out what was going on.

“You scare me sometimes, you know that?” He teased.

He was on and off the phone. You could tell it was with Spence by the way Derek’s eyes kept slipping over to you as he talked. But telling Spencer you were there before they figured anything out would only distract him. At least, that’s what Derek kept telling you.

After a while, Dr. Kimura called Derek back and said he could talk to Spencer. Despite your protests, he told you to wait and so you stood back while he went inside. You could hear Spencer’s voice, but your brain wouldn’t focus on what they were saying. You just wished you could hold him again.

His coughing may as well have been a flatline in your ears.

“Go help Hotch,” he told Derek.

Spencer stood with his arms at his side as he was sprayed down. His hair hung limply around his face and his purple shirt now clung to his chest.

Morgan shook his head. “Hotch has plenty of people helping him.

“He needs you more than I do.”

“Reid, I’m gonna see you off to the hospital.” Derek caught you in the corner of his eye, stepping closer to the doorway.

“I’m about to get naked,” Spencer said, leveling an irritated stare on the other agent’s face. “So they can scrub me down. Is that something you really want to see?”

Derek looked from you to Spencer to Dr. Kimura. He waved his hand, motioning for you to come in.

“Can she stay with him?”

Spencer’s eyes widened. “Y/N? What are you doing here?”

“Who is this?” Kimura asked. “Is she another member of your team?”

Derek scoffed, giving you a small smirk. “She may as well be.” He nodded at the scientist. “Take care of him.”

He hurried off, patting your back as he went.

Your eyes didn’t leave Spencer. In other circumstances, you might have laughed. He looked like a wet puppy with his dripping hair and soaked clothes. But another cough escaped his lips and his hazel stare burned into you.

“What are you doing here?” He asked again.

“Would you believe me if I said I was in the neighborhood?”

“This isn’t funny. You can’t be here,” he said. “Protocol aside, do you have any idea how dangerous this situation is?” His shoulders jerked with another cough. He unbuttoned his shirt and kicked off his shoes.

“I don’t care how many rules I’m breaking, I’m not leaving you.” You held up a hand. “I’m safer here than out there waiting for this guy to strike again.”

His frown deepened, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he shifted uncomfortably, hands reaching for his belt.

“Can you…?” He trailed off.

“Oh,” you blinked. “Right. Yeah.” You turned away, listening to the water against his now bear skin.

He felt ridiculous, being self-conscious now when you’d seen him without his clothes on plenty of times. But this felt different. He’d let himself fall into this problem and somehow, shielding you from seeing him this way, seeing him so weak, made it easier in his head. He could face it as long as you didn’t have to.

Dr. Kimura allowed you to ride with them to the hospital as long as you stayed out of the way. But now, seeing him in the hospital shirt with sweat glistening on his forehead, you knew you couldn’t just sit there.

“Is there anything I can do?” You begged.

“We’re going to test Nichols’ inhaler to see if he hid the cure there like Dr. Reid suggested,” Dr. Kimura explained. She put a stethoscope to Spencer’s chest as he continued coughing. You didn’t need to have a medical degree to know he was getting worse. “How are you feeling Dr. Reid?”

“My throat’s a little dry.” He kept his eyes screwed shut, focusing on what he was saying. “But other than that I feel… fin. Feel fin.” He opened his eyes as nonsense fell from his lips. His brows furrowed in frustration while his irises widened with panic.

Your eyes scanned his shaking form, bile rising in your throat. He reached up for you. On his hand, you spotted the cut.

Not good. Definitely not good.

When he coughed this time, a trickle of blood dripped out of his mouth.

“Driver, faster,” Dr. Kimura ordered.

“Re-,” Spencer stammered, gripping your hand as tight as his muscles allowed. “Ret.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Reel. Rem. R-Read.” He used his other hand to point to his bag, left by Morgan when he took it out of the car.

You reached into it and retrieved the leather-bound volume you’d spent the last week reading together. It made your breath catch in your throat. You opened to the page he’d left off on the night before.

The Final Problem.

With your eyes trained on the page in front of you, the scene of Sherlock Holmes’s death struck a little too close for comfort.

What if this was it? What if you’d wasted all of the time you had left with him in these past few months?

Your hands shook. You wanted a drink.

Derek sat beside you, distracting himself with the hospital jello and a magazine.

You reached the end of the story, but the words caught in your throat, drowned out by threatening cries.

“...and if I have now been compelled to make a clear statement of his career it is due to those injudicious champions who have endeavored to clear his memory by attacks upon him whom I shall ever regard as the best and the wisest man whom I have ever known,” Spencer said groggily. His eyes peered open, landing on Morgan. “Are you eating Jell-O?”

You let out a sob of relief and restrained yourself from throwing your arms around him.

Derek smiled. “Hey doc, look who’s back,” he said to Dr. Kimura, who was speaking to another doctor in the doorway.

“Is there any more Jell-O?” Spence asked, his thoughts still hazy from waking up.

While Derek and the doctor informed Spencer of everything that had happened- including the recovery of the other victims thanks to him knowing where the cure was hidden- you just watched on with awe tightening in your chest, turning to regret.

You’d taken so much for granted and it took almost losing him to see it.

Spencer turned his head toward you, a small smile playing on his lips when he saw your face.

“I could hear you,” he said. “Reading, I mean.”

“You should have picked a happier story,” you teased through your tears.

He chuckled weakly. “Sorry.”

Derek ushered Dr. Kimura out, giving the two of you a little more privacy.

You leaned over, pressing your lips to Spencer’s forehead. “I’m sorry,” you cried.

Spence lifted a hand, wiping away your tears with all the energy he could muster.

“For what?”

Setting the book aside, you took his hand in yours.

“For not coming home sooner.”

The In-Betweens series: @amywright; shesoperfectt; hereforsmutbcicantgetenough; violetbossler; hyper-half-blood; i-bitch-you-bitch; xcastawayherosx; preciousbabypeter; @jori21; @sol-48; @murdermornings ; @ staygoldsquatchling02; @ ara-a-bird

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagines #dr. spencer reid x reader #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #jennifer jareau #emily prentiss #david rossi #dr. spencer reid #matthew gray gubler

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asherloki · 1 year

Text

His new purpose

Bbc Sherlock

Fluff!

Sherlock's life was, messy after every chaotic event. He was alone. His life was scattered. Even though because of John and Rosy he was 'okayish' in his words. He was fine if you ask him. Because he didn't know what being really happy, really content, really living felt like. What it's like to truly be loved. Sherlock's life was a dark night, and his friends were the stars which kept his life a little lit.

Like any other day he was going through some case files and was waiting if lestrade brings a case. Until his flat's door creeked open. He went towards the door and looked out to see a young lady walking inside a little, she looked innocent and he found her... To his surprise, adorable? Was that the right word? He didn't know.

"Mr Sherlock Holmes?" She asked. He kept looking at her. His mind palace ran like a bullet train. Trying to deduce her, all he got was, she's new to London, was looking for a place to stay, maybe here to be his flatmate. His eyes softened, barely happened before, just having a feeling of affection for someone by laying eyes on them for the first time.

"Are you?" She said again impatiently. 'quirky' Sherlock thought. But then he got out of his mind palace and replied.

"Y-yes, sorry I was disturbed by a ... A case, you?" He asked. To this she introduced herself and said, "I'm y/n, I was looking for a flat, and most preferably shared, cause you know.. high price, I bumped into your landlady and she said I could stay here, but I just needed to talk to you."

She explained everything very clearly. No, never happened before, that Sherlock felt a sudden empathy and... What was it? Affection? Wanting to keep this young lady safe? What happened to him? He just nodded and said, "oh yeah sure, surely you can stay. I don't want a young lady like you to be bothered here in London at my presence."

She raised her eye a bit, hmmm... He seemed.. interesting. She looked around the flat and saw only junk, well his case files, a skull before a mirror. A bull head or something wearing a headphone? Bullet marks on wall over a yellow smiley.

Sherlock saw her baffled expression seeing the flat so he said, "I'm sorry, it's just, have been busy."

"No no it's actually pretty interesting. Never felt like this to the other flats I went to." She said.

"Like what?" He asked a little confused.

"I don't know, just feels my own" she said, but immediately regretted, ofcourse it isn't her. It's his flat, she hasn't been in yet. Sherlock would've been irritated with this answer if it was anyone else. But it was her, an adorable little person, innocence flashing like light, but the smile, that smile hid pain, he could see.

"Anyway miss" Sherlock said, "welcome" offering a handshake.

"Thank you, Mr Holmes it's..."

Sherlock interrupted her and said, "Sherlock please."

"Sherlock!" Said she looking into his eyes, "but You're... Okay then Sherlock". She wanted to say he's older than her and if it was okay or not. But if he insists. "May I see my room please?"

"Yes ofcourse" he took her to the room where previously John lived.

"Ah, I love it, where does Dr watson lives now though?" She asked.

"Oh with his daughter in their house" replied Sherlock "and um.. you know him?"

She giggled to this, wait did that make his lips curve into a smile too?

"Yes ofcourse, who doesn't know you two." Replied she.

"So.. you read his blogs too?" He asked. Being known to her fascinated him.

"Oh just one". She replied.

"And ? You liked it?" He asked.

"Well, not bad, I didn't read it focusing too much actually, I was so bored in lockdown so I read one."

'brutal honest' Sherlock thought, 'like me?'. Thoughts raced in his head, why and how this person seems so .. so known, familiar, similar.

"I see" he replied.

"But..." She answered, "now I can witness your intelligence from this close, it may be quite an adventure with you."

Sherlock smiled and nodded, "yes, an adventure indeed."

Then he went to living room and she started unpacking. He walked with a case file on hand, but he smiled, he doesn't feel alone anymore. He loves her being here with him, on the other hand, she unpacked her stuff and kept on mumbling to herself smiling, 'sherlock' 'sherlock?' 'mr Sherlock Holmes ' 'what an interesting man' . She came out and met his eyes, he holding his violin. Delightful sight. He smiled genuinely and so did she. So that's the start of a companionship. Maybe more than just friendship. Perhaps Sherlock found a moon to light his dark nights a bit more.

#sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock x y/n #sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock

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pookieb3ar · 3 months

Text

His ring

*spoilers*

That ring. That damn ring. His ring.

Remembering like it was yesterday, like it was yesterday he plunged off the unfinished bridge after the lord of crime. Holding tight as he fell, and you. You sat there on the side lines. Not able to do anything. Just standing there being pushed around by people trying to get a glimpse of the scene happening, but all you could do was stand there with tears flooding your eyes as you watched your lover, Sherlock Holmes, fall into the deep abyss of water. You had no hope for his survival.

Falling into water from that height, there’s no way someone could survive that.

You told yourself over and over. But imagine the heartbreak and anguish you felt as you were walking along the man made bank and saw something floating in the water, walking down a set of stairs you picked it up, and low and behold. It was that ring.

That damn ring. His ring..

All you could do was sit there in heartache, holding the skull engraved ring that was much to big for your own finger, so you wiped your tears and headed back to the humble flat of 221B Baker Street, sitting down in Sherlock’s old study and unfastening your necklace and sliding the onto the chain and putting it back on.

You slept with the necklace on, you bathed with the necklace on, you did everything with the necklace on. Days and nights passed, and somehow 3 years has passed since the death of your past lover Sherlock Holmes, and you still haven’t moved on. I mean how could you? He was perfect. Everything you could ask for. And now he’s gone, for 3 years now.

Knock

“Come in..” You said in a monotone voice

“Well, that’s not the exact kind of welcome back I was expecting”

You paused. You knew that voice. You knew that cocky tone. You turned slowly, and to your shock there he was, Sherlock Holmes, just standing there. This couldn’t be happening, it’s your mind playing tricks on you, you’re just to deep in grief. All those words going threw your head and you still managed to get up to run and hug him, he was real, he wasn’t a ghost, or a figment of your imagination.

He grabbed your face with both hands and gently made you look at him, that’s when he noticed the shiny skull engraved ring looped on your necklace, he grabbed it.

“So that’s where it went” he said letting out a chuckle looking at the ring.

That damn ring. His ring..

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I’ve never written ff before but I had an idea and I had to experiment with it, so I do hope you did like it! Lemme know how I did! But keep in mind I don’t know if I’ll write again, if I do it’ll probably be a while :’( MORIARTY THE PATRIOT NEEDS MORE FANS‼️‼️

————————————————————————————-

#moriarty the patriot #fanfic #sherlock holmes #sherlock x you #angst?#Sherlock holmes moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #moriarty the patriot x you

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soyces · 9 months

Text

Morning Tea (Johnlock) Pt 2

tags- fluff, angst :)))))

Chapter One(Sherlocks point of view)

I wake up to the sound of the kettle whistling and footsteps. But I don't move because I almost physically cannot, my head is pounding almost as if I were talking to Moriaty or Anderson…god do they give me a headache. I struggle to get up from my bed which seems to be filled with clothes and some sort of wrapper? I put the pieces together and realized that I must have slept with someone from the bar- but these were not only my clothes…but Johns? I sit up rather quickly and scan the room which is quite hard when you feel like you have just been hit in the head with a hammer. I crawl from the bed to my clothes and manage to put my trousers on with much effort and energy. I scatter through the room to find my dressing gown and stumble my way to the loo. As I'm sort of walking I can hear John making his way to the window, I glance at him then quickly look back at him once more. Has he always looked that way? I wasn't sure what he looked like but he looked nice? I don't think I've ever referred to him in that way… I shake my head and try to focus on something important rather than how a person looks. Peeing. Yes, let's try completing that without cracking my skull open. As I walk in I glance in the mirror and realize how dreadful I look so I quickly fix my hair. As I'm looking at myself in the mirror I think about John, specifically what his clothes were doing in my room…did he leave them there? Did he sleep in my room? My brain struggles to put the puzzle together almost like a riddle, I've never liked these guessing games, and was never good at them either. One thought that pops into my head is that maybe John was the “mistress” from last night…but I erased that thought and finished doing my business( i dont think youd want to know the details…) and I stumbled to the kitchen. I tried to stay quiet but ended up tripping on one of my wires connected to my glass capsules filled with something I cannot remember now. But I don't think I want it touching my skin- I hear John say something but it sounds muffled and loud at the same time? I respond

“Shhhh- just…quiet please John” I almost dont recognise my own voice…and my breath is horrible lord- I try to put the kettle on but trip yet again and fall onto the cold kitchen floor. I can hear John rush over to me as he notices the situation. I notice a small smile curl on his face and that's all my mind is filled with. His smile, it's always been there but I'm only now noticing how pleasant it is to look at- I snap back into reality and hear John say something and then I hear myself asking for his help. Then before I know it I'm in my chair and John is hovering over me. I feel a bit annoyed with myself for not being able to make tea for god’s sake- I look around our lounge, looking at all the scattered papers and bullet holes i left in the wall, the faint smell of tea and cigarette smoke lingers in the air. I’m just hungover, big time. I can hear John and Ms Hudson chatting in the kitchen. I've never really seen the point in small talk, if you're going to talk, make it something important, not something about the weather! After I finish complaining to myself I realize John has made me a cup of tea. Eargrey with a little bit of honey. I awkwardly thank him and watch him sit in front of me. We sit in silence as we drink our tea looking at seemingly nothingness before John decides to speak.

“Do you have any memory of last night?” He asks with a certain tone that makes it seem he’s been racking his brain about this topic all morning the same way I have been. There's a pause and I take a breathe then start to speak.

“Well…from what I put together is that we went to a bar…for my birthday. We drank, a lot-”

“Yeah I got that much…”

I sigh “Alright… And we spent a lot of time in the bar and- well..”

“My clothes were in your bed, yes…”

I pause once again, I know he's not an idiot but he seems upset- does he regret it…? I notice he's running his hand through his hair and looking a little more angry but I cannot seem to figure out why… I mean sure the situation is awkward but I don't see a reason to be angry. He puts his mug down and looks up at me, his face is puzzled and upset. I notice him wanting to say something but going silent suddenly.

“Yes…?” I ask to try and make him feel less awkward about saying anything.

“This can never happen again. We are partners, friends, colleagues but we cannot be more-” He says in a tense and angry voice. His words seem to hit me hard and I am unable to understand. My face scrunches up with confusion and a little bit of sorrow.

I open my mouth to say something but stop myself to collect my thoughts that have started spinning in my head like a washing machine. Then I finally said something.

“Do you…regret it, John? I ask, looking at my feet and twiddling with my mug.

He grows silent. Oh god- He regrets last night…

“I-...You wouldnt understand why-” He suddenly speaks with a tense yet soft tone, not looking me in the eye. My stomach sinks…why wouldn't I understand? Is this about Mary…?

“Try me.” I say putting my mug down and clasping my hands together as I lean back in my chair.

He’s still silent, he is not saying anything and it's getting on my nerves. I should be more patient with him. But I can't help getting angry at things I don't understand, especially when it comes to John. Then I hear him sigh and start to say something.

#sherlock fanfic #fanfic #writing #fanfiction #bbc sherlock #sherlock holmes #johnlock

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myuselessartandstories · 1 month

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Story #27

School

I once heard about this school that was lost in the woods, but that was only a story. A simple fable to keep children away from the forest. It was similar to how parents used the boogeyman to keep their children in bed, except when you grew up, you still believed in the school.

We were being dumb high school kids. We had a party near the wood’s edge. Being dumb high school students, someone started the dare to venture as far into the woods as possible. Not being any smarter than the others, I agreed.

We went in groups. I was with two other boys and a girl. It reminded me of a horror film, like the ones where the girl cowers behind a boy. We hadn’t even gotten that far when the girl gave up and went back. It was only me and the two other boys.

We didn’t say anything to one another. It was like an unspoken rule to not speak. It felt as if we said anything, something would hunt us down.

The taller boy ahead of me stopped, and I ran into him. I looked ahead of him and saw a stone structure. It was covered in vines, but looked brand new otherwise. The shorter boy was walking away, so I followed him, the one I had run into hot on my heels.

The front of the building had glass doors. They weren’t shattered. In fact, they looked as if they were just put in. It was like they had just been polished. We, being idiots, decided to go inside the strange building.

It was dark and damp on the inside, with many rooms lining the walls. “This is a school.” I murmured. “Well, no duh Sherlock. We aren’t idiots.” The tall boy shouted. The sound echoed through the empty halls, bouncing off the clean, new looking walls.

We didn’t move for a moment. I was the first to make a move. As soon as I heard the sound of glass cracking, I ran further into the school. Something was chasing us, but I didn’t want to look. “What is it?!” I asked while continuing to run. “Looks like a wolf!” One of the boys said.

I forced myself to look back, and sure enough, it was a wolf. A massive wolf. As tall as us. It pounced on the boy closest to it, which happened to be the shorter one. I tripped and fell to the ground, wide-eyed as the wolf opened its mouth and took the boy's head in its jaws, quickly closing them, causing the skull to crack and break, spilling blood all over the floor.

The tall boy grabbed my arm and dragged me away from the wolf that was preoccupied with tearing apart the body in front of it. There was a loud bang from the direction we were running, so the boy dragged me into the closest room and closed the door.

It was some kind of office, dark like the rest of the building, but it had an eerie feeling. I wandered around while the boy blocked the door. There was a chair on the other side of the desk that was knocked over. When I went to grab it, I saw a body bound to the chair.

The body’s head was twisted the other way, its legs were missing, and all of its fingers were broken. There was dry blood all over the floor, and the stomach had been cut open, revealing the body’s organs. I instinctively took a step back, unable to bear the putrid odor coming from the long rotted body.

I turned to tell the boy blocking the door about the body, but he was gone. The door was still closed, and I hadn’t heard it open, so he couldn’t have left. Near the door was a journal, this journal, actually.

It said to write down all that I wished to forget, so I started writing about today, but the writing disappeared. Having watched lots of horror movies, I bit my finger and began writing in blood. I’m hopeful this will work. I don’t want to remember today.

You have said what you wish to forget, which we shall grant. In return, you must lead three people to this place every year, which you will do whether you notice or not. This is the pact. You have signed. You found this place. Now, your soul will never leave.

(I made this story on a dare. You can tell I was stressed for ideas)

#story #bad story #my story #short story

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datauthorress · 1 year

Text

Free Fall [Chapter 2: A Study in Pink - Part 1]

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes / Original Female Character

Summary: After moving to London to begin a fresh start and a new journey, Shelby has found it incredibly difficult to find a flat that will take animals, despite hers being a service dog. Upon meeting a fan of her work, she’s introduced to her new flat-mate, Sherlock Holmes, the only consulting detective in the world. Having read his blog, Shelby knows she’s in for an adventure as she becomes Sherlock Holmes’ roommate.

Rating: E

“So how’s London so far?”

“Way different than America,” Shelby replied as she pulled on her leather jacket, shifting her cell phone to the other hand as she pulled her arm through the sleeve. “Most of the people are nice, though. So that’s a plus.”

“It sounds like it,” Shepherd said. “Have you found a place yet?”

“See, that’s a crazy story right there.” Shelby said with a soft chuckle. “I met a fan of one of my shorter books and he introduced me to someone else who was looking for a flat mate to share with. As of now, I’m heading out to go to the flat to check it out. And get this, my roommate’s name is Sherlock Holmes.”

“Sherlock Holmes? Sherlock…..oh! The consulting detective? The only one in the world?”

“Yeah. I thought his name sounded familiar when he told me,” Shelby answered, checking her watch. “I gotta head out, it’s almost five.”

“Tell me how it goes later,”

“I will. I’ll talk to you later, bro.” Shelby said before hanging up.

After grabbing all she needed, she grabbed Panzer’s leash and headed out, flagging down a taxi to take her to Baker Street. It wasn’t a far drive and once she arrived, she paid for the cabbie and got out, thanking him. The number on the door said 221B, and she was on Baker Street, so she knew she was in the right area. Shelby noticed Sherlock hadn’t arrived yet and she walked over to the door, waiting.

After a few minutes, she heard a car pull up and she glanced over to see Sherlock Holmes getting out and paying the cabbie.

“Mr. Holmes,” Shelby said.

“Sherlock, please.” He corrected, shaking hands with her when he had held out his hand.

“This area looks good,” Shelby said, glancing around. “Got to be expensive.”

Although money wasn’t an issue for her.

Sherlock rung the doorbell on the side of the door before speaking. “Mrs. Hudson, the landlady. She’s giving me a special deal. Owes me a favor – few years ago, her husband got himself sentenced to death in Florida. I was able to help out.”

“You…..stopped her husband from being executed?” Shelby asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Oh, no.” Sherlock said, shaking his head. “I ensured it.”

What?

The door to 221B opened and a woman in her 60’s came out with a joyful smile. “Sherlock!” she exclaimed and threw her arms around him, happiness in her voice.

“Mrs. Hudson, Shelby O’viere.” Sherlock introduced the two women.

“Hello, dearie!” Mrs. Hudson smiled.

Shelby held out a hand to her, but much to her surprise, Mrs. Hudson wrapped her arms around Shelby, giving her a gentle squeeze. “Oh,” Shelby said in a meek voice, and patted the older lady on the back. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Hudson.”

“Oh, it’s my pleasure, dear.” Mrs. Hudson smiled, pulling back. “Come in, come in!”

Sherlock walked inside first, followed by Shelby and then Mrs. Hudson. Mrs. Hudson closed the door and Shelby followed Sherlock upstairs, albeit a bit slower due to her leg and she followed him into the flat they would be sharing. The sitting room was fairly large and pleasant, except it was a complete mess. There were stacks of newspapers, several computers, a tumble of box files along the shelves, and what looked like a terrifying collection of – weapons -, and a skull – a human skull – on the fireplace. The kitchen was the same dreadful mess, the table crammed with testtubes and jars and burnings.

Jesus, this place needed cleaned.

“Wow, this is…..very nice. Spacious, a bit disorganized, but it looks really nice.” Shelby said, looking around.

“Yes, I think so.” Sherlock nodded in agreement. “My thoughts exactly. So I went ahead and moved in.” “Soon as we get all this shit cleaned out.” Shelby and Sherlock said at the same time.

They exchanged glances and a soft “oh” came from Shelby’s lips. “So, this is all….?”

“Obviously, I can straighten things up a bit.” Sherlock cleared his throat, taking off his scarf and coat, hanging them up behind the door.

“That’s a skull.” Shelby pointed out.

“Friend of mine. Well, I say friend….”

“So what do you think, Miss O’viere?” Mrs. Hudson asked as she walked into the room, glancing around the mess. “There’s another bedroom upstairs,” she said and Shelby glanced over at her as Mrs. Hudson gave her a knowing look. “If you’ll be needing two bedrooms.”

“Oh! Uh, yes, of course we’ll be needing two bedrooms.” Shelby said, startled.

Did Mrs. Hudson think her, and Sherlock were a couple?

They just met yesterday!

“Oh, don’t you worry.” Mrs. Hudson smiled. “All sorts around here. Mrs. Turner next door’s got married ones.”

Shelby’s jaw dropped slightly in shock.

While Sherlock didn’t even seem to be paying attention.

“Oh, Sherlock. The mess you’ve made.” Mrs. Hudson tsked and made her way into the kitchen, beginning to tidy as she went.

Shelby cleared her throat, getting Sherlock’s attention. “I looked you up last night.”

“Anything interesting?” Sherlock asked, not phased.

“Found your website – The Science of Deduction.” Shelby replied. “I thought I had recognized your name from somewhere.”

“What did you think?” he asked.

“You said you could identify a software designer by his tie, and an airline pilot by his left thumb.”

“Yes. And I can read your background by the way you carry yourself-,”

“You guessed wrong the first time,” she pointed out.

“I did, but I got it right the second time. I looked you up on the Internet as well,” Sherlock said, standing up and fixing his shirt. “Shelby Elizabeth O’viere, 28-years old, birthday is August 24th, a successful author in the horror, fantasy and supernatural genre.”

“How did you guess the car accident?”

“Car accident was highly likely after you said you weren’t in the military,” Sherlock replied. “You’ve had several surgeries to correct your leg, but grew tired of being prodded and poked and decided to live with the pain. The person who was the cause of the accident, which was not you because your right leg is damaged, so you weren’t the one driving. A large vehicle, a box truck or semi, hit your side.”

Mrs. Hudson came back into the sitting room, having picked up a newspaper from the floor. “What about these suicides, then, Sherlock? Thought that would be right up your street. Three of them, exactly the same. That’s a bit funny, isn’t it?”

“Four. There’s been a fourth. And there’s something different this time.” Sherlock announced without warning.

“A fourth?” Shelby asked, confused.

The three of them hear a door open and a thumb from downstairs, before a man comes walking into the flat.

“Where?” Sherlock asked, glancing at the man.

“Brixton. Lauriston Gardens.” The man replied.

“What’s different about this one?” Sherlock asked. “You wouldn’t have come to get me, if there wasn’t something new.”

“You know how they never leave notes?”

“Yeah.”

“This one did. Will you come?”

Sherlock is quiet for a moment, staring at the man. Shelby notices he appears interested, tempted even. “Who’s on Forensics?” he asked.

“Anderson.” The man replied.

Sherlock groaned. “Anderson won’t work with me.”

“He won’t be your assistant.” The man sighed.

“But I need an assistant!” Sherlock said.

“Will you come?” the man asked with an exasperated sigh.

“Not in a police car. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Thank you!” the man replied, before giving a cursory nod at Mrs. Hudson, and Shelby and then he was gone.

Shelby is utterly confused. She has no idea what the hell is going on. She jumped when Sherlock let out a whoop of excitement.

“Brilliant!” Sherlock laughed and hurried over to his desk, grabbing things and shoving them into his pockets. “And I thought it was going to be a boring evening – serial suicides, and now a note. Oh, it’s Christmas! Mrs. Hudson, I’ll be late – might need some food.”

“I’m your landlady, dear. Not your housekeeper.” Mrs. Hudson said, but smiled.

Sherlock bounded out the door, much to Shelby’s bemusement.

“Oh look at him, dashing about?” Mrs. Hudson said with a sympathetic smile. “My husband was just the same.”

“I’ve never seen someone excited about the aspect of serial suicides,” Shelby said, a soft smile on her features.

“He’s quite the character.” Mrs. Hudson said. “Would you like a cup of tea, dear?”

“Oh. Sure, yes. Thank you.”

“You rest that leg.” Mrs. Hudson said, before walking into the kitchen.

Shelby leaned on the armrest of the chair, bringing out a bottle of pain medication from her bag. She took out a single white pill and popped it into her mouth, swallowing it down dry since she had nothing to drink.

Who the hell was Sherlock Holmes?

“You’ve seen hell,”

Shelby turned to Sherlock, startled. He’s putting on his gloves, having already slipped on his scarf and coat. “What makes you think that?” she asked.

“That look in your eyes,” Sherlock replied. “You’ve seen hell, and you’ve used that to better things for yourself. You’re quite knowledgeable, being an author, knowing things that a regular person wouldn’t. Medical, the weird and strange, and much, much more.”

“I can’t say that I disagree with you,” Shelby said, standing back up. Panzer stood up as well, licking his lips. “Being an author means doing any and all research.”

“So you’ve seen a dead body before.”

“Once. It…. wasn’t pleasant.”

“But you have knowledge of corpses.”

“Yes.”

“Seen a lot of injuries?”

“Well, yes.”

“Hell?”

“I’ve seen and been through enough to last a lifetime,” Shelby replied.

Sherlock took a few steps towards her, staring at her, as if considering. “If you become my assistant, you can see even more.”

“What makes you think I want to?”

“Because you refuse to be bored while you’re on a hiatus. Do you want to see a dead body?”

Shelby is quiet for a moment, not bothering to ask how Sherlock knew she was on a hiatus from writing. Did she want to see a dead body? See more hell that would probably scar her for life?

“Fuck, yes.” She breathed.

Sherlock smiled, dashing for the door again, quickly followed by Shelby.

“Sorry, Mrs. Hudson! I’ll skip that tea for now.” Shelby called out as they reached the door. “We’ll be out.”

“Both of you?” Mrs. Hudson asked as she came out of her flat.

“Impossible suicides – four of them. No point in sitting at home when there’s finally something fun going on!” Sherlock exclaimed, grabbing Mrs. Hudson by her upper arms and quickly pecking her on the cheek.

“Look at you, all happy. It’s not decent.” Mrs. Hudson smiled.

“Who cares about decent. The game, Mrs. Hudson, is on!”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Okay, you’ve got questions.”

“Plenty,” Shelby replied, leaning back against the back seat. “Where are we going?”

“Crime scene, next.” Sherlock answered.

“I’d ask another, but I already have a hunch how you’ll answer.” Shelby said. “You’re not a private detective.”

“Nope. I’m a consulting detective. The only one in the world. I invented the job.” He spoke.

“What does that mean?”

“It means when the police are out of their depth – which is always – they consult me.” Sherlock answered.

“When you asked me yesterday if I had been to Afghanistan or Iraq, you seemed surprised when I said no. Why?” she asked, glancing over at him.

“The way you carry yourself, the look in your eyes. You’re in pain, but you make yourself appear as though it doesn’t bother you much.” Sherlock spoke. “You didn’t know Mike before yesterday, so you were obviously not in medical school. Your limp is severe when you walk, even when you take medication, but you don’t like people looking at you with pity or sympathy. The car accident was traumatizing, but you’ve had therapy to be able to drive a vehicle, occasionally feeling that fear that it might happen again.”

Sherlock cleared his throat before speaking again.

“Your phone. Expensive, but not the newest on the market. You like the look and feel of the phone you have, and it barely has any marks on it, which means you take very good care of your belongings. You never put your phone in the same pocket where keys and coins are. You don’t drink, so there’s no marks on it from struggling to plug it into the charger. You don’t even smoke, there’s no scent of smoke or nicotine on your clothes, even being able to smell the tiniest bit of perfume, which is Japanese Cherry Blossom, your favorite.”

“You have a large family, both parents and siblings, I count at least three. Two of them you are extremely close with, the other you are not. You loathe them, as they were the one driving – drunk, most likely – and didn’t think about it before picking you up from somewhere.” Sherlock continued. “You have little to no ties with that sibling and possibly your parents, as what American makes a hasty decision to move to another country. You wanted to get away from them, make a fresh start for yourself, but you’ve had trouble finding a flat because of Panzer. You meet Mike Stamford in a one in a million chance and introduces you to me.”

“You also don’t like getting help from anyone, even under extreme circumstances. Money is no issue to you, you have more than plenty. You don’t have any romantic attachments -,”

“How could you possibly know that?” she interrupted.

“What young woman moves to a new country to get away?” Sherlock mused, looking at her. “You don’t have any romantic attachments, so moving to another country because of your family is why, not because of an ex-boyfriend or ex-girlfriend. You needed a fresh start, somewhere you had never been before, but had always wanted to.”

Shelby is quiet as Sherlock has finished speaking and she took a deep breath, before speaking. “That….was amazing.” She admitted.

“Do you think so?” Sherlock asked, glancing at her with a pleased expression.

“Well, of course it was. Amazing, just extraordinary.” Shelby said with a soft laugh.

“That’s not what people say.” He said.

“What do they usually say?”

“Piss off.”

Ten minutes later, as it grew dark, the taxi came to a slow halt in front of a small house that had a cluster of police vehicles outside of it – uniformed officers going in and out.

Sherlock paid the cabbie and got out, Shelby following after him. “Did I get anything wrong?” Sherlock asked.

“The person who caused the accident, we don’t get along. I loathe her, and people want me to forgive her because she got therapy. I told her apologies don’t fix what happened to me. I haven’t spoken to her, or my parents in six months.” Shelby replied as they walked towards the crime scene.

“Your sister. Your sister caused the accident. Younger?”

“One and a half years.” Shelby replied. “Okay, but seriously, why am I here?”

Sherlock doesn’t answer as they approach the tape and blocking their path is a woman in her thirties, who Shelby can immediately tell that she wasn’t a pleasant person.

“Hello, Freak.” The woman said.

My thoughts exactly. Shelby thought.

“I’m here to see Detective Inspector Lestrade.” Sherlock said.

“Why?” the woman asked.

“I was invited.”

“Why?”

“I think he wants me to take a look,”

“Well, you know what I think, don’t you.”

“Always, Sally.” Sherlock said. “I even know you didn’t make it home last night.”

The woman – Sally – stared Sherlock dead in the eye, as if she was used to this. Sherlock lifts up the tape to allow Shelby past it, but before she can, Sally blocks her path.

“Who’s this?” Sally demanded.

“Colleague of mine, Shelby O’viere.” Sherlock replied. “Shelby – Sergeant Sally Donovan, old friend.”

Donovan appeared shocked, glancing at Sherlock. “A colleague? How’d you get a colleague? A woman of all colleagues? Did he follow you home?”

“Maybe I should just wait outside,” Shelby began.

“No!” Sherlock interrupted, holding up the tape further for her.

“Freak’s here, bringing him in.” Donovan spoke into a walkie-talkie.

Shelby ducked under the tape and Sherlock released it, the two of them following Donovan through the garden path and up to the house. The house was dark and empty, abandoned most likely. A man glad in disposable garb comes out, taking off his gloves and glowering at Sherlock.

“Anderson! Here we are again.” Sherlock said.

“It’s a crime scene. I don’t want it contaminated. We clear on that?”

“And is your wife away for long?”

“Don’t pretend you worked that out. Someone told you that!” Anderson exclaimed.

“Your deodorant told me that.” Sherlock pointed out.

“My deodorant?”

“It’s for men-,”

“Of course it’s for men! I’m wearing it!”

“So is Sergeant Donovan,”

Shelby choked at Sherlock’s deduction, as Donovan and Anderson exchanged a panicked expression. Anderson became red-faced, stammering.

“Oh! I think it just vaporized. May we go in?” Sherlock said.

“You listen to me, okay? Whatever you’re trying to imply-,” Anderson stammered.

“I’m not implying anything. I’m sure Sally just came around for a lovely chat.” Sherlock spoke. “And happened to stay over. And I assume scrubbed your floors, judging by the state of her knees –,”

“Right, just go in, just go!”

Sherlock glanced at Shelby with a smug grin, before he walked inside and she followed after him. There’s a dark, narrow hallway with peeling wallpaper. The corridor led to an open door, where the man from earlier – Lestrade – stands in full crime scene gear.

“I can give you two minutes.” Lestrade spoke.

“I may need longer.” Sherlock said, as he’s already strolling past Lestrade into the kitchen. After a moment, he tosses a crime seen coverall to Shelby, who catches it in her left hand.

“You’ll need to wear that.” He said.

Shelby set her cane against the wall for a moment so she could start putting the coverall on. She has noticed by now, that Lestrade is staring at her, confused.

“Who is this?” Lestrade asked.

“She’s with me,” Sherlock replied.

“But who is she?”

“I told you – she’s with me,” Sherlock answered once more, a firmer tone in his voice. “So where are we?”

“Jennifer Wilson, according to her credit cards – we’re running them now,” Lestrade replied.

Ugh, stairs. And many of them. Shelby lets out a soft sigh and follows after Sherlock and Lestrade, a couple of steps behind them. Panzer followed beside her, despite having gotten a look from one of the officers. Probably no dogs were allowed, but Panzer didn’t leave her side, no matter what.

Shelby walked into the room after Sherlock and noticed a lone body laying in the middle of the room. A woman, clad in a bright pink coat and pink shoes, lay face-down. Shelby immediately feels her stomach churn at the sight – even know she had seen a dead body before – and Sherlock glanced over at her, even though she didn’t say anything.

“You alright?” he asked.

“I’m fine,” she nodded.

The room goes silent for a few minutes before Sherlock speaks again. “Shut up!”

“I didn’t say anything.” Lestrade sighed.

“You were thinking. It’s annoying.”

Shelby, confused and a bit amused, exchanged a glance with Lestrade, who rolled his eyes. He must have been used to this. Sherlock, with rubber gloves on his delicate hands, knelt down beside the woman’s body and glanced over it a few times, touching her hand and inspecting something red – which Shelby knew was blood – just right beside the woman’s head.

Sherlock straightened up with a silent expression.

“Got anything?” Lestrade asked.

“Not much,” he said.

“She’s German.” Anderson’s voice cut in behind them. “Rache is German for revenge. She could be trying to tell us something.”

“Yes, thank you for your input.” Sherlock drawled, before walking over and promptly shutting the door in Anderson’s face.

“She’s German.” Lestrade said.

“She’s not German,” Shelby blurted out.

Sherlock and Lestrade glanced at her, to which Sherlock appeared amused – and a tiny bit surprised.

“How do you know that?” Lestrade asked.

“Just a feeling,” she shrugged.

“Of course, she’s not German.” Sherlock said. “She’s from out of town though. Planned to spend a single night in London, before returning home to Cardiff. So far, so obvious.”

“What about the message, though?” Lestrade questioned.

“Shelby, what do you think?” Sherlock asked, glancing over at her.

“We have a whole team right outside-,”

“They won’t work with me.” Sherlock sighed.

“I’m breaking every rule letting you in here.” Lestrade said.

“Yeah, because you need me.”

The two men exchanged glowering glances with each other, before Lestrade strode across the room and leaned against the wall. Shelby is confused of what her place is here.

“Shelby!” Sherlock called.

Shelby made her way over to the body, kneeling down and observing the details. Her gaze flits over to the bloody message, Rache, which – to her – seemed unfinished. The woman was dying, so she was thinking of something, or someone in her last moments. Perhaps a person, maybe someone close to her. Whatever had killed her had to have been something she consumed, poison, perhaps? Something that wouldn’t injury her externally, but internally. She kneeled down even more, putting her face close to the deceased’s to smell. She didn’t smell alcohol, so it wasn’t alcohol poisoning.

Being a writer, research was helpful, although she never expected it to be helpful in deducing how someone died.

Shelby grunted softly as she stood up, leaning on her cane. “It’s unfinished, whatever she was writing. It’s a name, possibly a person, someone close to her. Sister or a daughter. That’s the only bit of blood around here, so what killed her was internal, not external. Poison, perhaps, or some sort of drug that was fatal. She choked on her own vomit. She’s one of the suicides, the fourth one.”

Sherlock – and Lestrade – stared at her with astonishment.

“Impressive,” Sherlock smiled.

“Sherlock, two minutes I said. Need everything you got.” Lestrade spoke.

“Victim is in her late 40’s. Professional person going by her clothes – I’d guess something in the media, going by the frankly alarming shade of pink. She’s travelled from Cardiff today, intending to stay for one night – that’s obvious from the size of her suitcase -,”

“Suitcase?” Lestrade interrupted.

“Suitcase, yes. She’s been married for at least ten years, but not happily. She’s had a string of lovers, but none of them have known she was married. The wedding ring, ten years old at least. The rest of her jewlery has been regularly cleaned, but not her wedding ring – state of her marriage, right there. The inside of the rings are shinier than the outside – that means they’re regularly removed; the only polishing they get is when she works them off her finger. Its not for work – look at her nails, she doesn’t work with her hands, so what, or rather, who? Who does she remove her rings for? Clearly not one lover – she’d never sustain the fiction of being single over time – so more likely a string of them. Simple!”

“Cardiff?” Lestrade asked with a sigh.

“Obvious, isn’t it?” Sherlock asked.

“It’s damp. I could smell the rain on her,” Shelby said.

“Exactly! It’s slightly damp – she’s been in heavy rain within the last few hours. No rain anywhere in London at that time. Under her coat collar is slightly damp too. She turned it up against the wind! She’s got an umbrella in her left pocket but its unused and dry. Not just wind, but strong wind – too strong to use her umbrella.” Sherlock explained. “We know from her suitcase that she’s staying overnight so she must have come a decent distance. But she can’t have traveled more than two or three hours, because her coat hasn’t dried. So where has there been heavy rain and strong winds within the radius of that travel time?”

Sherlock held up his phone, which had a weather forecast on it.

“Cardiff!”

“Why do you keep saying suitcase?” Lestrade asked.

“Yeah, where is it? She must have a phone or an organizer, so we can find out who Rachel is.”

“She was writing Rachel?”

“Of course she was writing Rachel!” both Sherlock and Shelby said at the same time.

Lestrade’s eyes widened slightly as the two spoke at the exactly same time, which was very unnerving to Lestrade.

“Question is, why did she wait until she was dying to write it?”

“How do you know she had a case?” Lestrade asked.

“The splash back on her right leg. She was dragging something behind her, hence, a suitcase.” Shelby said, gesturing her hand in the air slightly.

“She’s right.” Sherlock nodded. “It’s a smallish suitcase, an overnight bag. Now where is it? What have you done with it?”

“There wasn’t a case.” Lestrade said.

“…..say that again.”

“There wasn’t a case. There was never a case here.”

Sherlock, without warning, shoved past Lestrade and into the landing of the stairs. “Suitcase! Did anyone find a suitcase – was there a suitcase in the house?!”

“Sherlock, there was no case.” Lestrade sighed.

“Yes, there was.” Shelby said, shaking her head. “It explains the splash back on her leg.”

“Yes!” Sherlock nodded vigorously. “They take the poison themselves. They chew and swallow the pills themselves! There are clear signs – even you lot couldn’t miss them.”

“Uh, thanks?” Lestrade said, arching a brow.

“It’s a murder, all of them. I don’t know how, but they’re not suicides. They’re killings – serial killings. We’ve got a serial killer Love those, there’s always something to look forward to.”

“Why are you saying that?” Lestrade demanded.

“Where’s her case? Come on, where is it? Did she eat it? Someone else was here and they took the case. So the killer must have driven her here and forgot the case was in the car…” Sherlock rambled.

“Maybe she checked into her hotel?” Shelby asked, coming out onto the landing to glance down at Sherlock as he made his way downstairs.

“No! Wrong! Come on! She never made it to her hotel. Look at her hair – color coordinates her lipstick and shoes, she’d never have left a hotel with her hair like -,”

Sherlock halted and Shelby could practically see the wheels turning in his head. After a moment, Sherlock slapped his hands to his head. “Oh! Oh!”

“Sherlock, what is it?” she asked.

“What is it?” Lestrade asked, coming onto the landing as well.

“Serial killers, always hard. You’ve got to wait for them to make a mistake…” Sherlock said loudly, bounding down the stairs.

“We can’t just wait!” Lestrade exclaimed.

“Oh, we’re done waiting! Look at her! Really, look!” Sherlock said, reaching the base of the stairs.

“Get onto Cardiff. Find Jennifer Wilson’s family and friends – find Rachel,”

“Of course, yes. But what mistake?”

Sherlock looks up at them and shouts one, single word. “Pink!”

And then he’s gone.

Shelby glanced over at Lestrade, who looked extremely weary and completely done with the night. “Okay, let’s get on with it!” Anderson called out, and practically shoved Shelby out of the way to get into the room.

Shelby sighed quietly, feeling out of place and ignored. Left behind. Sherlock said her words were impressive, like he was impressed that she could be anywhere smart or as clever as him. She took off the gloves from her hands, before beginning to limp her way down the stairs.

When she got outside, she walked over to the tape, glancing around for Sherlock –

“He’s gone,” Donovan said. “He just took off, he does that.”

“Is he coming back?” Shelby asked.

“Didn’t seem like it.”

Shelby scrunches her nose, feeling humiliated. He just left her here, by herself, with a bunch of people she didn’t know. She had to get a cab somehow. She couldn’t walk all the way back. “Um, where am I?” she asked.

“Brixton.” Donovan replied.

“Where could I get a cab?” she asked, tired.

“Try the main road,” Donovan replied, holding up the tape for Shelby.

“Right, thanks.” Shelby said, ducking under the tape to begin heading for the main road.

“Hey,”

Shelby turned her attention to Donovan, who took a couple of steps towards the younger woman. “You’re not his friend, he doesn’t have friends. So who are you?”

“I’m…..nobody. I just met him yesterday.” Shelby replied, a bit softer than normally.

“Bit of advice then. Stay away from that guy.” Donovan said.

“Why?”

“Look, you seem like a nice young lady,” Donovan said with a soft sigh. “It’s bad news to get involved with Sherlock Holmes. You know why he’s here? He’s not paid or anything. He gets off on it. Weirder the crime, the more he gets off. And you know what? One day, showing up won’t be enough. One day we’ll be standing over a body and Sherlock Holmes will be the one who put it there.”

Shelby tenses, feeling anger bubbling in her. Sherlock was smart, smarter than all of the officers combined and despite him helping them, they despise him, call him a freak and why?

“You know what, Sergeant Donovan?” Shelby said through gritted teeth.

“What?”

“I think you’re jealous.” Shelby said, and Donovan’s face changed into one of audacity. “Sherlock Holmes may not be paid, but he helps out because you lot obviously can’t figure it out on your own. He’s not typical, normal per say, so you make yourself feel better by calling him a freak and a psychopath because he makes you look like a complete fucking moron at your job. And I can tell that with you, while you have a pretty face, your personality is disgusting. You’re on your way to destroying a marriage because you can’t stand yourself and want to make other people suffer because you can’t stand yourself.”

Shelby ends her rant, a bit out of breath and sees the look of pure malice that Donovan is sending towards her.

Shelby takes a breath, before she mutters an apology underneath her breath and turns, making her way towards the main road.

And hopefully get a cab back to 221B Baker Street.

#fic: free fall #sherlock holmes [bbc]#shelby o'viere [oc]#;relationships [sherlock/shelby]#tw // language #tw // deceased body

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luxwritesfanfic · 3 years

Text

Don’t Take The Money

Poor reader thought it would end up being a normal Sunday but that must’ve been the mix of bleach and Pinesol fumes getting to their head. Or, the one where reader finds out they have more in common with the other woman in Sherlock’s life than they thought and Sherlock has an aneurysm at the revelation. Thanks for reading!

Sherlock Holmes/Reader

You were just waking up when Sherlock was moving around the bedroom trying to pack his overnight bag. You groaned at the noise of drawers being opened and hangers jostled and rolled over onto your stomach, propping yourself up on your elbows. “Sherlock? You’re leaving?”

He stopped in his tracks back towards the closet and moved to sit on the edge of the bed next to you. He looked down at you with fondness that so many people thought he was incapable of feeling and as always, it made your heart swell. Brushing a lock of hair behind your ear, you relished in his undivided attention.

“A case was brought to my attention. I won’t be gone for long, it’s a few towns over.” He insists, trying to ease your worries before they arise.

Although you’d miss him, it never did anyone any good when Sherlock was bored. He needed something to keep him occupied and you needed time to clean up the drywall shrapnel that constantly covered the couch due to the boredness. It would give you the opportunity to deep clean the flat and the idea wasn’t so bad.

“Is John going too?” Sherlock nodded. You don’t know why you asked, they always worked together.

You turned your head to kiss his palm and sat up to get out of bed. “Okay. I’ll make you breakfast before you guys leave. Nobody likes train food anyway.”

Sherlock moved to help you stand, one of the smiles he reserved just for you gracing his lips. “You take excellent care of me. But you should know, you don’t have to be useful for this to mean something to me.”

He caught you off guard, but he usually did when he read you like a book. Your whole life you’d made yourself useful and you weren’t sure if people liked you for you or for the fact that there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for them. You would do anything and everything for Sherlock and it didn’t have anything to do with being useful, honestly. You loved him dearly and you couldn’t imagine treating him like you felt anything less than that. You couldn’t help but kiss him.

“Omelettes or pancakes?”

—

Your shirt was soaked from washing the dishes and you smelled like a mixture of bleach and formaldehyde from scrubbing the fridge clean and removing the severed head that took up the space where your coffee creamer should be. You had done more loads of laundry than you could count, bleached the bloodstained tub from Sherlock’s latest pig quest, the entire flat smelled like Bahama breeze and you couldn’t be more content. The boys weren’t due back for a day or two so you figured you’d spend some time with Mrs. Hudson when you were done and see if you could meet up with Bucky and Greg for lunch. When you passed the kitchen on your way to your bedroom to change, you decided that this may be the only chance you ever get to clear off the dining room table. Sherlock’s science equipment had overrun it and you figured it wouldn’t hurt if you straightened it up just a bit.

You were in the midst of cleaning out Sherlock’s beakers when you heard the knock on the door. Figuring that John would have posted on his blog that they weren’t currently taking clients because they were on a case, you expected to see Mrs. Hudson and the mop she was letting you borrow. You cracked the door just enough to see who was on the other side and was surprised to see an older woman holding a plate of baked goods who wasn’t Mrs. Hudson.

“Hi... how can I help you?”

The woman in question’s eyes lit up at the sight of you and you weren’t sure why. She smiled and gestured to the platter in her hands. “Is Sherlock Holmes here?”

She must be a client, you thought. Shaking your head, you responded, “No, sorry! The boys off on a case. I’m a friend of theirs. Is there something I can help you with?”

She was looking past you into the flat and you weren’t sure what she was looking for. “Do you mind if I come in? I could really use a cup of tea. And I wanted to drop these cookies I made for Sherlock off.”

You looked at what she was holding and decided it wouldn’t really hurt to let her in, and the cookies looked amazing. Sherlock must have helped her in some way.

“Sure, come on in. Sorry about my clothes... I’ve been doing some spring cleaning.” You stepped aside and let her in. “So, are you a client of his?”

She went to place the platter on the table and you were excited that it was already worth cleaning off the table. “Not quite. I’ve known him his whole life and have loved him even longer.” She turned and smiled at you, seeing through you in a way that seemed eerily close to Sherlock.

You hummed, taking in her answer. Sherlock didn’t talk much about his friends, so you weren’t surprised that you never heard of her.

“Just a minute, I’m gonna change.”

You excused yourself to the bedroom where your phone was charging on the bed. After sending Sherlock a quick text that someone who wasn’t a client was here for him, you dug around in the closet for something clean and more appropriate.

The lady didn’t really seem like a threat and you were sure if it came down to it, you’d be able to protect yourself. You could chuck the skull on the mantle if need be, it was a hard hitter.

When you returned, she was wandering around the flat and looking at all of the pictures of you, Sherlock, and John that you’d recently framed and put out.

“You and Sherlock, you’re close, yes? Tell me about him. It’s been so long.” She was holding a picture that you took of you two in the back of a taxi. Sherlock was on his phone but you thought his hair looked extra good and the golden hour light made him look like an angel so you had to take the picture.

“Yeah, I mean. He’s a seriously great person. A brilliant detective, he’s so smart. He helps all these people for free, and he never complains if they don’t offer him anything. He hates when I tell him he’s a godsend but who else would do that? Um... he’s really funny, probably one of the funniest people I know. You just have to keep up with his humor. It can be kind of dry, but it’s there. He’s one of the most loyal people there is and he’d do anything for the people he cares about.”

It was so easy for you to speak so highly of him. It was like second nature.

“He can be stubborn sometimes, and he can be a little more blunt than he needs to be but... he’s amazing. There’s no other way to explain him, really. He’s got a light that comes from him that rivals the sun and I don’t think it could ever be dimmed.”

She turned back to you and slowly broke out into one of the biggest grins you’d ever seen someone wear. “You really love my son.”

“Your son?” You blinked, unsure of what was going on. You really started to look at the woman in front of you and you realized Sherlock had her eyes. A complete copy and paste. “Oh my God, you’re Sherlock’s mom. I never even introduced myself. I’m Y/N, a friend of-”

“You’re not his friend, dear, and I’m not blind. Old age takes a lot from you, but I could never miss the way my son shines. And you... you see it too.” She walked up to you, still holding the picture frame in her hands. “You love my son in a way that no one else has. Let me tell you all about him.”

—

You couldn’t stop laughing.

Sherlock’s mom had brought over tons of scrapbooks and old pictures that she had acquired over the years, and you had a feeling she knew you were here alone before she even knocked on the door. Mycroft, probably. You spent the whole day getting to know each other and taking a stroll down memory lane with her telling you all about Sherlock as a kid and how it was growing up with two geniuses as sons. She even gave you a copy of one of Sherlock’s high school pictures that you were going to cherish forever. She seemed so happy to have someone to talk to and assured you that spending time with you was the closest she had felt to Sherlock in a long time.

You insisted that she stay and let you make dinner, but she was as equally stubborn as Sherlock and ordered you takeaway as her treat. You tried to argue but she was having none of it. “My God, you scrubbed this whole flat clean. I’m not going to let you dirty your dishes. How does Chinese sound?”

—

Sherlock barreled up the steps with all the force he could muster in his legs and rushed in to see you, perfectly fine and all in one piece, having dinner with his mother.

“Sherlock!” You both exclaimed, his mother full of excitement and you full of worry.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, standing up from your end of the couch. “I thought you were on a case? Is everything okay?”

“I’ve been texting and calling you all day! You’re that daft that you couldn’t text back once all this time?” He’s still out of breath and he can feel his heartbeat in his ears. His tone is exasperated and you could hear the mix of anxiety and relief in his voice as he’d yet to acknowledge his mother. She seemed perfectly content to sit back and watch the situation unfold, amusement at her son’s unusual outburst gracing her features.

“My phone was dead! And then I put it on the charger and I forgot about it once your mom came, by the way!” You went to the bedroom and retrieved your phone to find a dozen missed texts and calls.

Probably just a client. SH

11:07 AM

Are you sure it’s not a client? SH

11:43 AM

Are they still there? SH

1:00 PM

Missed Call

1:17 PM

Missed Call

2:03 PM

Call me back. SH

3:26 PM

Y/N, I’m on a case. Call me back. SH

3:44 PM

Missed Call

4:13 PM

Is everything alright? SH

4:52 PM

Missed Call

5:08 PM

Missed Call

5:10 PM

Missed Call

5:12 PM

I’m boarding the train now and I’ll be there soon. Don’t worry. SH

5:21 PM

Sherlock followed after you, still without ever acknowledging his mother, and shut the door after himself. With his palms braced against the wooden door, he tried to ease the tension out of his bones through a deep breath as he watched you check your phone. He wasn’t worried about the case at all. It was mostly solved and what little was left John could do with ease. He felt the weight of the missed calls in his stomach like lead and the three hour train ride that he couldn’t curse to defy time any quicker. He had plenty of enemies and you had virtually none, so there would be no reason to think you’d hesitate to assist anyone who came to his door, especially if it was in the name of helping him. He thought he’d walk into a crime scene and he couldn’t shake those images out of his head.

You got up from the bed and walked over to him, reaching to wrap one arm around his neck and to take his hand in yours in the other. You pressed a kiss to his jaw, and then to his chin, over his eyelids, his nose, and then lastly you met his lips, murmuring “I’m sorry” in between every kiss. He didn’t usually voice it, but you had known him long enough to know when he was upset. He relaxed into your touch as he always did and you pulled away from him long enough to pull on the ends of his scarf. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Let me help. We got takeaway for your mom and I but we can share mine. I got what you like anyway.”

He let you pull his scarf and jacket off and you were delighted to see he wasn’t really mad with you. You hang his jacket on the closet door and by the time you turn back to face him, he’s already making his way back out to the living room. Following after him, you see his mother gesturing him to come over.

“What are you doing here? I thought I told Mycroft to tell you I was away on business.” He was messing with the cuffs on his sleeves but his question was directed at his mother with unmistakable intent. She tsked at him, and you began to see even more similarities in their mannerisms.

“That’s no way to talk to your mother, William. I was spending some time with your darling partner here and I don’t even get a kiss or a hug?” She began gathering her belongings and threw her purse over her shoulder. You weren’t happy to see her go.

You did peak up at the name. “William? Your name is William?”

Sherlock groaned, ignoring you completely. You swore you could see a blush dusting his cheeks. In no time he was at the door, holding it open for his mother. “It’s getting rather late, don’t you agree? Father must be wondering where you are. Be sure to pay Mycroft a visit the next time you’re in town. I assure you, he always has time for family.”

She turned to you and blew you a kiss. “I had a great time with you today, I hope you’ll manage to bring Sherlock home more.”

Walking over to Sherlock, she paused to kiss his cheek and whisper in his ear, “I know you know what you could lose here. So be sure you don’t, Sherlock.”

Before she totally stepped out of the flat, she turned around one last time. “Promise me you’ll come home soon. Your father and I miss you dearly.”

“I heard you the first ten times. Goodnight and safe travels, mother.” Sherlock shut the door before his mother could get another word and your shoulders slumped.

“Hey, that was your mom! She’s really nice. We had a good day.” You started to clean up the coffee table and take the dishes into the kitchen. You couldn’t understand Sherlock’s relationship with his family but you were sure there was a lot of things you didn’t know. Still, it was nice to have a chance to bond with your (maybe one day) future family. It was then that you realized that Sherlock never said anything when his mother mentioned you being his partner. You two never really officially defined what you were, so to see him not object to an actual title made you feel all warm inside.

“No, you had a good day. I was trying to work a case and clear a man’s name while trying to figure out if I’d come home to you kidnapped or dead.” Sherlock rolled his eyes, watching you from the doorway. You looked back at him as you dropped the dishes into the sink and let out a sigh. You hated the fact that you let him down.

“I have to go back tomorrow to tie some loose ends with John. If you come with me, I have a feeling I’ll get over it a lot quicker.” His voice was quiet but full of mirth. He won’t hold this over your head, and you both know this, but if it makes him feel better you’ll follow him. You’d follow him to the ends of the Earth and off the edge if he lead you.

Sherlock pushed himself off of the doorway and walked towards the bedroom, unbuttoning his shirt as he went.

“So, you’re staying home tonight?” You swung around the kitchen doorway and called out to the hall. You hadn’t even thought about Sherlock having to go back, and you couldn’t help but be excited that he would be there for you to fall asleep next to tonight.

“You didn’t expect me to make the trip back at this hour, did you? Besides, I sleep better with you and it’s obvious that I don’t focus well if you’re not around, Which is why I need you to come with me tomorrow. It seems you owe me, anyway.” Sherlock takes a step back so you can see him in the bedroom doorway, and you can feel your heart in your throat.

He’s so beautiful, you think, all alabaster skin and lean muscle. He’s pulling a t-shirt over his head and you wonder if you could manifest a photographic memory long enough to commit him to memory. Of course he notices you staring, and you almost want to mention all the times you catch him staring at you but he changes the subject and opens the blankets for you and you shut up and follow him. You follow him and you love him and you wake up in the morning at the crack of dawn to run downstairs and order coffee from the shop next door before your train leaves, being sure to get them to write “William” on the cup. Sherlock doesn’t find this funny at all, but he still lets you fall asleep on his arm on the train ride there and doesn’t complain when his arm falls asleep right along with you.

He thinks that if this is the life his mother wished for him as a child, that would be one thing he could take off of his list of things she eventually needs to answer for. Because mothers know best, and when it came to you, she could have never been more right.

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kiridarling · 3 years

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[a/n: is this a week late? yes. happy belated-valentine's day angels <3]

—ᴛʜɪs ɪs ᴀɴ 𝟷𝟾+ ʙʟᴏɢ. ᴍɪɴᴏʀs ᴅɴɪ

𝐊𝐚𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐤𝐢 𝐁𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮; 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥

→ Definitely went to work that day

→ Not a huge romantic but wake up to find a hot breakfast with a note left on the counter.

Happy Valentines Day, dumbass. Love you.

— k.b

→ When he returns from work, Katsuki buys you roses and shoves them into your chest with an eye roll. You thank him and he responds with a grunt before insisting you put on something nice because he’s taking you out on a dinner date whether you like it or not.

→ Katsuki takes you to the fanciest restaurant—so fancy you feel a little bad that he has to pay, even despite his Pro Hero status. But you’re his, and spoiling you might as well be his love language.

→ Halfway through dinner, Katsuki starts getting a little frisky. Sliding the rough leather of his oxfords up the inside of your thigh, winking and biting his lip. You tell him to stop but you only half-mean it, and the knowing grin on his face lets you know he knows.

"Careful, baby. You don't want the waitress to know how much of a dirty slut you are, do you?”

→ He’s condescending as fuck but you’re totally here for it, and the second he pays for the meal you two are speeding down the highway to a love hotel (per Katsuki’s plan, apparently). You barely make it to the bedroom before you’re all over each other, and if it weren’t for that family of four in the elevator, you definitely wouldn’t have.

→ He tells you to get on the bed and strip, and who are you to deny him of such a luxury? He pulls a plastic black bag out of a different bag—it’s clearly full. With what, you may ask?

→ Sex toys!

→ Katsuki’s endgame is simple—make you cum until you can’t anymore. Not that he’s told you explicitly, but he’s got a Hitachi pressed to your sex and two fingers slamming into you just the way you like it. With your wrists comfortably tied above your head, it doesn’t take him long to bring you to your climax, cheeks burning and thighs shaking.

→ Peering at you under the sweaty mess of ash-blond hair, the fire in Katsuki's eyes only adds fuel to the burning of your gut as the vibrator continues whirr. The realization settles in with a shiver. Oh. Oh fuck, he's not stopping.

“Again.”

→ So, you cum again. And again, and again, and by the time you’re on the fifth it gets a bit hard to feel your toes and you’re so sensitive your thighs burn. All you want is his cock, but for some reason, it’s fucking impossible for him to give it to you.

→ Upon voicing your concerns, Katsuki’s devilish smile only grows wider.

“You want this cock that bad, slut? Yeah? Fine then, fuckin’ choke on it.”

→ It’s basically cannon that one of Katsuki’s favorite things to do is watch you struggle to take all of him, but in this position, all you can do is lay back with bound hands as he fucks your face. It’s sloppy and your eyes and throat burn, but it's totally worth it to hear Katsuki fall apart in your mouth.

“S-So good—fuck—such a good whore, taking all of me, aren’t you?”

→ Katsuki pulls out before he cums in your throat in favor of flipping your limp body into downward dog and stuffing you full of cock in one swift move, the bastard.

→ Katsuki’s never been one to take things slow in bed—to him, it’s all hard and fast and now. You’re scrambling for purchase in the sheets as he pounds into that sweet spot he knows you love, and you feel your fully spent sex twitching back to life anyway. Fuck, fuck. Are you going to cum again?

→ Katsuki seems to catch onto this as well, sweaty chest dropping against your back and the cool of his dog tag tickling your neck as his hand rubs between your legs, muttering dirty nothings in your ear.

“You gonna cum for me, baby? Yeah? Gonna make a fuckin’ mess all over yourself like the slut you are? Fuckin’ do it. Fuckin—fuck—”

→ You two cum at the same time, toes curling and ribcage shuddering, and then—

→ Darkness.

→ You wake up in a few hours, properly clean in fresh sheets. Turns out baby boy fucked you so hard you passed out, but it's okay because he’s found reruns of your favorite show on and is fully prepared with water and snacks.

→ (And he’ll never tell you, but he fully panicked and called Eijirou. Obviously, he knew you were alive, but…what if you passed out because of a problem? A concussion? Internal bleeding, maybe?)

→ (Eijirou ensures him that though this should NOT happen every time, it can happen from exhaustion. To say Katsuki relaxes after that is an understatement.)

(Stay safe angels <3)

And speaking of Eijirou...

𝐄𝐢𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐮 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐚; 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐤𝐞

→ Definitely did not go to work that day.

→ Today, Eijirou plans to treat you like the princess you are. Cooks you breakfast in bed (after almost burning down the kitchen trying to make bacon but shhh we don’t talk about that) books you a full day spa and has Mina take you shopping for a new outfit for your "fancy date" that night.

→ The location? A surprise.

→ It’s dark by the time you and Mina pull up, but the moment you hop out the car she speeds away. Um. She could’ve at least said bye.

"[Y/N?]"

→ Looks like Eijirou brought you to a lake. You wonder who helped him bundle the fairy lights in the trees and set up the picnic because knowing your man and his coordination, it would’ve taken a forever for him to set this up.

→ But all those thoughts shatter the second you see that he’s on his knees, clutching a velvet box with a gorgeous diamond ring sat in the center. Not too flashy, but not too dull.

“U-Uh.”

→ Eijirou swallows then blinks, the only sign that he’s the least bit nervous for this.

“See…I swear I had planned something to say, but you look…holy shit, um—stunning, you look stunning.”

→ His compliment goes over your head though. Of course it does, he’s holding an engagement ring. He chuckles, averting his eyes to the ground.

“Listen, um, you can say no...B-But uh, I love you a lot—obviously—and I’ve been thinking about this a lot, kind of, because you’re like…the love of my life, ya know? I mean, I know everyone says that and everything but like, I really mean it? But if I’m going too fast o-or you just don’t wanna get married or something, I totally get it because obviously this is outta the blue and everything b-but um…yeah.”

→ You let him stutter through the whole thing because, well. It’s cute.

→ ...And then you tackle Eijirou to the ground with renewed passion and slam your lips onto his. His “babe! The ring!” is muffled but you snort anyway, blindly groping for it through the grass. The moment you find it, you shove it into his palm and stick your hand in his face, and with a (very sexy) chuckle, the redhead slides it onto your ring finger.

“I’ll take that as a yes then?”

→ No shit, Sherlock.

→ Either way, the picnic in the dark is abandoned in favor of yanking Eijirou's pants off and giving him the best head of his life. Because goddammit, you love this man so much and he needs to feel it.

→ Afterward, he insists on returning the favor. A wild Gentle Dom Kiri appears and as he eats you out, he mutters a deadly combination of the sweetest and dirtiest things you’ve ever heard.

“Fuck, you feel so good. So tight and wet. And it’s all for me, isn’t it, baby?"

“You’re gonna cum, angel? Do it. Cum all over Daddy’s face.”

→ Once you semi-recover from your orgasm, he flips you on your hands and knees and slowly pushes inside of you (though not without putting on a condom because safety first, angels). You tell him to speed up, but he denies your request. This time around, Eijirou's going to take the time to love you.

→ As he slowly fucks you under the stars, he dips his chin into your neck as his bigger hands encompass your own. As he starts to play with the ring on your finger, you watch something wet hit the picnic blanket, followed by a sniffle.

“Gosh, fuck—I love you so much. A-And I’m really happy you said yes. I…”

→ You cum first and Eijirou isn’t far behind, shuddering against your spine. Your fiancé unceremoniously rolls onto the picnic blanket next to you, his temple kissing the crest of your skull as the two of you use the comfortable silence to cool down, half-naked under the milky way.

→ In your comfortable silence, you lift your left hand to the stars, fingers splayed to reveal the twinkling diamond solidifying the bond between the two of you. Eijirou hums, hooking his chin on your shoulder.

"Pretty, isn't it?"

𝐃𝐞𝐧𝐤𝐢 𝐊𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐢; 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐀𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲

→ Both of you are painfully single and most importantly, strangers. Strangers who think alike and had the glorious forethought to drown your sorrows at a nightclub with a lot of alcohol.

→ Denki, as he does, accidentally knocks over his liquor-filled cup, completely drenching your bottoms. He apologizes and insists on helping you clean up though getting awfully close to your crotch, but both of you are too tipsy to notice.

→ After the liquor spill, you swap embarrassing love stories and lament over the “hardships of being single.” (Denki’s words.)

→ A few hours pass. You’re tired and ready to go home and Denki requests to walk you home to make sure you get back safely. Not that you live far, maybe ten minutes, but by the time you reach your door, you feel like you've known the electric blond your whole life. After saying goodbye and almost closing the door, Denki blurts out a half-drunken confession...or something like that:

“I—uh, y-you are—uhm, no…this is—“

→ You give him a look, a half-smile at best, and it seems to churn the gears in his brain again.

“This was uhm, really fun and uh, I think you’re really cool.”

→ So naturally, when you invite him inside, he squeals.

→ After a few more drinks and a few more spillages (Denki’s never been a deft drunk), you two finally get over your inner thoughts and start kissing on the couch. It’s hot and messy, and the alcohol in your veins makes it oh, so hot.

→ Denki doesn’t expect you to offer head but when you do he nearly cries, scrambling to pull his pants off while you make space for yourself between his thighs. Due to the fact that there’s alcohol pumping in Denki’s veins and he hasn't been touched by someone else in at least a year, he’s extra-sensitive. And vocal.

"F-Fuck gorgeous, you're so good at this...o-oh shit, do that again—yeah, yeah just like that."

→ His hips quiver, and he bucks into your mouth on accident. It earns him a glare and a light slap on the thigh, and you make a mental note to unpack the broken moan that interrupts his apology later.

→ It doesn't take Denki a long time to cum—five minutes max. He plans to give you a warning but his orgasm runs up on the electric blond so quickly he doesn't even get a warning. When Denki orgasms in your mouth with a choked moan, it's only natural that you pull away in alarm, ribbons of semi-translucent cum flying just about everywhere.

→ To say you're pissed is an understatement (because your poor, poor carpet), but Denki feels terrible and is already reaching for the roll of paper towels you left on the coffee table from your cleaning spree this morning, apologies flying out of his mouth like an auctioneer.

→ Obviously, he's going to make it up to you. Not only for making an absolute mess in your living room (seriously, Denki doesn't know if he's ever come that much in his life) but for the bomb head, and he wants to make you feel just as good as you made him feel.

→ Both of you stumble to your room, the mood miraculously rekindled, and you're not sure what to make of Denki's desperation as he claws at your bottoms, pupils blown to the size of dinner plates. And though it's cheesy, you can't help but shiver when he finally gets eyes on your sex, wetting his bottom lip and the grip around your thigh tightening as he catcalls the apex between your thighs before diving in.

"Hello pretty~"

→ Like any pervert with a vivid imagination, Denki's got a mental warehouse of sex tips and tricks and burns to watch you squirm from his touch. He wants you red-faced and breathless and isn’t shy about it, actively paying attention to your reactions when he curls his fingers or uses his tongue just right.

"Oh, you taste so good sweet thing. So pretty and wet...did I do all this, gorgeous?”

→ Also, electro-stimulation? Yes please.

→ Denki's tentative about it at first because he’s not sure how you’ll react, but once you give him that pretty little moan you've been holding back all evening, you two are going nowhere but hell.

→ His dick hurts from being hard for so long and the second you cum, he’s practically begging to fuck you.

“Please? Please gorgeous? Shit, you felt so good in my mouth I just wanna—I need to—please?”

→ Like you needed any convincing in the first place.

→ You ride him per his request—and will definitely make you repeat things back to him, just because he likes how embarrassed and blushy you get. If you refuse? He’ll be an absolute tease about it. (But only for a bit, because we all know his patience isn’t that great.)

"Yeah? You like this cock? Tell me. Tell me how good my cock makes you feel, gorgeous."

→ There's no way Denki lasts very long (again)—definitely with you in his lap. When he cums, it’s cute and breathless, and his nose scrunches into his eyes. But if he came twice, you should too right?

→ The next morning, Denki's gone. But in his place, there’s a note with his number and an explanation:

had to go to work! lol i have the fattest hangover kill me now ty. either way, you should text me. i wasn't kidding when i said i thought you were cool lol.

(xxx)-xxx-xxxx

— kaminari

[a/n: gah XD my brain melted from writing that um-

also don’t worry about the family of four at the love hotel...they were...um...forced to stay there due to an emergency...lol :) see you soon, angels <3]

#— 𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐈 #— 𝐄𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎𝐔 #— 𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐊𝐈 #bnha headcanons #bakugou headcanons #denki headcanons #kirishima headcanon #bnha fanfiction #bakugou smut #denki smut #kirishima smut #bakugou x reader #denki x reader #kirishima x reader #bnha smut

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mycrofts-gunbrella · 3 years

Text

Caring is the Greatest Advantage- Mycroft Holmes x Reader (Part 11)

A/N- Okay so this is just a short 2k fill in chapter! It’s kinda cute and kinda sad but it was too long to add to the last chapter, and it doesn’t fit in with the theme of the next chapter (though it sets it up quite nicely!). The next chapter is likely going to be a bit angsty but I promise it’ll have a rewarding ending to it! I hope to have it written and up sooner rather than later but, until then, enjoy this little piece.

Word Count- 2028

The ten minute drive from Baker Street to the Natural History Museum went by in a flash- most of it being spent by Mycroft giving you a mental tour of the building's various rooms and the 'most appropriate route to take'. Though it did also take a minute or two for you to convince him to not get everybody kicked out for a private visit, no matter how many people were there.. Admittedly, you hadn't been to the museum for 6 years or so now- after living so long in London it feels less of a luxury being only round the corner from it- but walking through the doors made you feel like a child again. Entry to the museum was free, but that didn't mean you didn't see Mycroft swiftly pushing a few notes into the donation bin at the front before guiding you forwards. Glancing up, you eyed the blue whale skeleton that hung from the ceiling and frowned. Mycroft caught your look and spoke up.

"Ah yes, Hope has been a relatively recent addition to the museum. She was found dead on an Irish beach back in 1891. It's a rather beautiful marvel to gaze upon, though, large as she is, she doesn't quite fill the hole in my heart that was left after my beloved Dippy was removed." Your eyes scanned the skeleton of the large mammal once more before looking back at Mycroft. "I did try to convince the board to keep the diplodocus somewhere but all attempts were futile. There's only so much force you can put into such a topic without exposing yourself as-"

"As a man who loves dinosaur bones more than he loves people?" Mycroft shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed.

"The very thing." Lifting your arm, you rested your hand at the crook of Mycroft's elbow to encourage him to move on.

"When we get home and have dinner we can raise a toast in Dippy's honour.. but for now, my mind's been taken over by that huge statue of Darwin." And the pair of you headed off, your hand very much staying place at Mycroft's arm as you wandered through the rooms- Mycroft more than willing to reel off facts about every deceased animal of history and, more often than not, even impressing the workers with his spiel of facts. Though you were very much enjoying wandering aimlessly through the room of human evolution, you most definitely noticed the pull from the man beside you as he was eager to reach his beloved dino-pals. As you turned the corner into the slightly darkened dinosaur room, you tripped over your feet slightly as you felt Mycroft stop in his tracks, his eyes wide and taking everything in. He looked as happy as a boy at Christmas and, quite frankly, it was adorable. You nudged him slightly when he still didn't move. "You okay?"

"Sorry, it just seems as though, no matter how many times I come here, it always feels like the first." He had shaken his head as though to bring his thoughts back to focus before taking a few steps into the gallery and leading you over to the skeletal remains of a Baryonyx. "The name Baryonyx roughly translates to 'Heavy Claw' from the Ancient Greek's 'Barys' meaning heavy and 'onyx' being claw or talon." He spoke, his voice smooth and relaxed as his fingers brushed over the board that announced the name of the creature within the glass. "It was also an excellent swimmer which it would use to its advantage while hunting." You listened to his every word as he spoke, grinning as he excitedly told you how many teeth it had and it's preferred techniques for capturing food before he moved you onto the next one.

"Oh these beauties have always been my favourite." You almost whispered, taking in the sight of the huge triceratops skull. You barely noticed Mycroft's hand shift from his pocket until you felt the heat of his palm against the small of your back, fingers squeezing slightly by your hip as he spoke.

"Mine too. Sherlock used to say they were boring and that we might as well have gone to the zoo to look at rhinos. He ended up spending 5 months trying to prove that the rhinos were descendants from the triceratops and then avoided me for 3 weeks when he realised there was no connection at all."

"That sounds about right. Though I can't imagine Sherlock enjoying it here very much anyway.." Mycroft began to guide you to a small bench just off the side to sit down, still giving you the view of the beautiful dinosaur bones.

"He didn't. When we were much younger he would kick off until Mummy and Father would tell us it's time to go and I had to go with them.. Then as we got a little older and Sherlock properly found his legs, he would simply run from the doors round to the science museum. Of course mummy and father had to follow him as he was so young, but one time I decided to stay here. They didn't realise I hadn't followed them until it was time to go home 5 hours later." Mycroft spoke quietly.

"Found his legs? That's at, what, four? Five? How young were you?"

"I was 9 the first time, I think." Now, Mycroft, you don't just 'think'; you know. Your hand moved to rest above his own on his knee, brushing your thumb fondly over his knuckles. "But it isn't all bad. Some of my best days as a child were spent here, and a lot of the staff were very kind and would teach me extra facts that weren't displayed. There was one gentleman who even gave me his own copies of some books that they had here. I'd wander the whole museum in time but I always found myself back here on this bench just.. watching. This room felt more like home than my very house sometimes. It was the room where I could escape the real world and find peace. Eventually Mummy, Father and Sherlock stopped bothering with the visits because Sherlock found the science museum boring after he'd prove them wrong on something each time, but I'd still pop back in on occasion without them.. Coming to think about it, I've never actually brought anybody here with me at all." You squeezed at his fingers and settled back into the bench.

"Well I am incredibly glad that I found out about your little interest, and I feel even more honoured that you let me come here with you." You beamed. And it was the truth. Evidently, this little museum meant much more to Mycroft than you could have ever imagined and it warmed your heart to know that he trusted you to see him nerd out over some bones.

"Eventually I used this very building as the scaffolding to build my mind palace. My files on Sherlock, very appropriately, are nestled in the human biology room. But most people's information is either stored in the entrance, where Dippy remains over Hope, might I add, or in a few of the rooms I find less interesting.." You didn't have to ask to know he was referencing 'that room with all the bloody rocks'. "I love most of the galleries too much to taint them with information on people that aren't important. The likes of Gregory and Doctor Watson now reside in Hintze Hall as the years have passed." His eyes remained focused in front of him, unblinking, as though he was wandering the very halls at that moment.

"And where.. where are my files?" You had to ask, really. Since he was on the subject anyway. "If you've put them in the marine reptiles room when you know I'm terrified of the ocean I shall never forgive you." Mycroft's hand flipped beneath yours so the pads of your fingers brushed before he blinked and looked over to you, a small smile on his face.

"Here." Oh. Well that's.. something. You shifted to give him a quick kiss on his cheek, knowing he wasn't overly fond of PDA and tugged him to stand.

"And on that note, I think we should go and grab some lunch before you make me cry in front of the dinosaurs."

---

After lunch, you both spent a few more hours walking from room to room (and of course circling round to the dinosaur gallery again) before you decided to call it a day at 4pm. Before departing, you headed towards the toilets that happened to be beside the little gift shop and you had a browse while Mycroft was occupied. Grinning, you picked up a deep blue plush triceratops and stroked a finger across its back. It was just small enough that, after purchasing, you could hide the little guy in the loose fabric of the sweatshirt you wore, acting innocent as you waited back outside near the wall. After going to the bathroom yourself, the pair of you headed outside where a car was waiting for you. Sliding in the back seat, you couldn't contain your little gift anymore.

"Surprise!" You laughed, producing the small toy from under your clothes and into the hands of the man beside you. He studied it briefly before beginning to laugh himself as he reached into his inner pocket and handed you the matching dinosaur, though purple in colour. "God, we're such children aren't we?" You noted as you swapped plushie companions, each of you brushing a finger on its nose as though it were a small pet. "I daren't think what your colleagues would say if they knew you were now the proud owner of a baby triceratops teddy that's.." You glanced at the tag. "..Suitable for children aged 12 months plus!"

"Probably nothing as bad as if they realised said triceratops was going to take proud placement on my desk at home." He beamed. "Thank you, this really does mean a great deal to me." You knew he wasn't just talking about the toy that rolled around his long fingers and you shifted to rest your head lightly on his shoulder.

"We can come back any time. I, for one, know I'll never get bored of looking through the galleries.. Or I'll never get bored of watching you light up as we walk through said galleries. Either or works, really." He hummed in response, his emotions slightly overwhelmed from the day and its revelations into his past. "Plus there were about 10 other little dinos in the shop and I've always been one to want a full collection.. so, if we pace ourselves, that's at least 10 more trips."

"13.. Although that could be tripled if we take the colour variations into account."

"Oh, of course! Can't half-arse a collection or it's just pointless."

"I concur."

"That's settled then. Almost 40 more trips to finish off our collection.. And thennnn we can move onto the figurines." Mycroft let out a laugh beside you and tilted to rest his head atop yours for the remainder of the journey home.

---

The evening between you was shared over a meal (where, as promised, a small toast was made to the memory of Sir Dippy) before Mycroft sat to finish the papers for Greg. Eventually you collapsed into bed at a relatively reasonable time, groaning at the throbbing in your legs from the day's adventure before finally slipping into rest.

---

The next day passed relatively quickly. The morning was spent visiting Greg in his office to drop off the papers before the pair of you took a small stroll through the streets of London. Eventually, Mycroft and yourself even got a text message from Sherlock giving a (albeit half-arsed) apology for his behaviour the day before and the rest of the day was spent in bliss. That was until exactly 17 minutes after you got back home when Mycroft's mobile began to ring. He swallowed deeply, showing you the caller ID of the person he had been dreading to speak to post-Eurus and answering.

"Ah, yes.. Hello, Mummy."

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