❤︎ Suggestive Content | Sherlock takes you on a 'date'
Sherlock carried you into 221b and gently placed you onto his bed. You murmur at him sleepily, confused. “Why am I in your bed?”
“Because I have a TV in my room. ‘The Sound of Music’ or ‘My Fair Lady’?” He replied, grabbing some pyjamas from the clean washing pile.
“Mhm, ‘The Sound of Music’.”
“Yeah? Do you want the pink pyjamas or the green ones?”
“Either please…”
He puts the green ones away and put the pink ones on the bed. He shoves his coat off and unbuttons his shirt, walking so he’s standing right in front of you.
“Do you want help to get changed?”
“Mhm? Sure. You’ve seen me naked before.”
“I didn’t plan on walking into you while changing.”
“You didn’t turn back immediately either, you were ‘inquiring about the washing basket’, which you never look at by the way.”
“I was checking it was your washing.” He says quietly, convincing himself.
“Why are you pampering me?”
“We’re still on our ‘date’, remember?”
You giggle, “Our ‘date’, hm?”
“Oh yes, and I believe that my girl should be pampered while she’s so sleepy.”
“I was wondering why you were letting me watch a musical.”
“I can cope with two hours of Austrian children singing if it makes you happy.” He smiles. He pulls your bottoms off, gently rubbing your leg afterwards. “You’ve built some muscle here…”
“It’s all of the running you’ve been making me do.”
“You love the running.”
“I do….”
He slides your pyjama trousers up.
“Is this what a boyfriend would actually do?” He asked suddenly.
You smile, ruffling his hair. “You’ve already promoted yourself to ‘boyfriend’ already? I thought this was still the ‘first date’.”
“You’re in my bed, which is already a successful ending to a date. I don’t see why you wouldn’t want me as your boyfriend.” He teases, unbuttoning her shirt.
“You arrogant git.” You laugh, playfully kicking at him.
He lets a giggle leave his lips as you playfully kick him. “That’s not a very nice thing to call your boyfriend.”
“Then what should I be calling you?”
Sherlock pauses for a second. “What do people call each other?”
“Well, things like ‘baby’, ‘darling’, ‘sweetheart’, ‘honeybee’.”
“I like the last one best.”
“I thought you would, honeybee.”
His hands pause for a moment, but then he continues.
“Sit up for me a moment.”
He guides her to sit up, helping her undo the claps of her bra. He pulls the bra off from her, revealing her breasts. She immediately cups her chests, covering her body. Sherlock smiles softly. “I won’t look if you don’t want to.”
“I don’t mind, you’ve seen worse.”
“I haven’t seen better than this though.” He whispers.
You barely caught his words, but they cause your face to flush.
“Do you want to wear a vest? Or…” His eyes try not to dart down.
“Can I stay like this? I feel warm.”
“Of course.”
He grabs the TV remote and lays down next to you. He finds ‘The Sound of Music’ and presses play. You instinctively curl up next to him, playing along with the ‘date’. To your surprise Sherlock wraps a hand around your bare back.
“You really don’t mind me being shirtless?”
“No. Should I?”
“Not if you don’t mind, I’m just surprised.”
He kisses your forehead in response, smirking as your eyes widened.
POV: There is a woman who has Sherlock wrapped around her little finger.
✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈·✦
'She's distracting me..'
Her smile, her posture, the way she looks at him, her voice...
Her entire being unsettles him.
Sitting on the sofa, trying to hear her light but usually hurried footsteps upstairs makes him irritable.
Climbing onto the back of the armchair and bringing his ear closer to the ceiling, to better hear the songs she hums in her mesmerizing voice, doesn't mean he likes her.
When he notices that she has gone out, he doesn't immediately run to the window to see where she is going.
He isn't interested in any of that.
Just little woman is too loud and... conspicuous.
Sometimes he hears her quick footsteps coming down the stairs. He knows what he will encounter when she rings the bell.
But he cannot understand why his heart races when he gets up to open the door.
When she looks at him, smiling and holding a huge plate of colorful, sugary cookies, he feels compelled to swallow hard.
He hates her smile.
"Good evening Mr. Holmes!"
'Call me Sherlock.'
"I tried a new recipe. And i thought you might like to taste it."
'He doesn't want it. He doesn't care. He'll even slam the door in her face.'
He reaches out and holds the plate from underneath. When his long fingers touch her soft hand, he involuntarily hold his breath.
He runs his cold fingers over her warm skin for just a brief moment and takes the plate from her hand.
He clears his throat and speaks, fixing his gaze somewhere other than on you.
"I don't eat things like that. I'll give them to Watson."
Stupid lies that don't suit him.
It is not the first time she is bringing something to him. And even though she doesn't know, he eats everything she brings.
Watson chuckles at those antics of his.
Fortunately, she don't understand.
She tilt her head slightly and smile politely.
"But they are so sweet."
'Are they as sweet as you?'
He tenses up for a moment, as if she were about to hear that ridiculous thing crossing his mind.
His heart races at her beautiful face and beautiful voice as she look down at him.
She's doing something to him. And even though he hates it, he can't resist her.
The tone of his voice drops, as if he were The tone of his voice drops, as if he were hypnotized.
"Then I'll eat it."
God.. He feels like an obedient little puppy.
But his heart warms when he notices her eyes sparkle and her smile widen.
"Enjoy it, Mr. Holmes. See you later!"
She gives him a small wave, turns around, and heads toward the stairs.
He gazes after her with yearning until she disappears from sight.
His gaze shifts to the plate in his hand. He brings it close to his nose and inhales the sugary scent.
Then, he straightens up decisively and closes the door. He looks out the window as he lifts a cookie to his mouth.
Of course, he isn't going to give those cookies to Watson.
[...how LOTR characters would ask you a very important question]
a/n: surprise, I'm back with longgg lotr headcanons - all is well in the world. i'm thinking of doing a little wedding/marriage-themed series (lmk?) bc this was so fun and made me giddy. hope you love it and remember that comments and reblogs or nice asks feed the author 💕
summary: how your partner proposes to you!! a whole lot of silly fluff. just don't bite me for doing "only" 8 characters bc I'm surprised I even managed that many and also those movies have like 20 people who are proper marriage material... 💌
disclaimer!! no use of AI in my writing, ever. this shit is from the heart!
⋆｡°✩ ARAGORN
honestly you were courting for a while before he even did it and you have done your waiting – not anxiously but securely – you both have known for a while that this was for life, but quite a few things had to be sorted out beforehand
it happens somewhere very intimate and quiet, probably out in nature but somewhere you will undoubtedly be alone; maybe somewhere meaningful to you because he would be sentimental like that
he tries to speak in a composed manner but his voice definitely trembles and there are tears in his eyes – but he unquestionably powers through
it’s not that he ever thought you might say no, it’s more like he was overwhelmed by the fact that this means he actually gets to love you and cherish you and build with you for the rest of his days, after everything you all had gone through
the ring is intricate and beautiful and regal, but not too flashy
you can’t wait for him to finish his speech to scream YES, but you let him – this man speaks poetry 😭
when he places the ring on your finger, with a careful yet trembling touch, he kisses the back of your hand so reverently like he worships you (does he not?) but you can’t wait to pull him up into the deepest breathless loving kiss
AYYY ur gonna rule Gondor beside him HOW COOL IS THAT. congrats queen love that for you 👑
⋆｡°✩ LEGOLAS
he thinks he is super prepared and level-headed but he can barely keep it a secret in the days leading up to the big question
literally he almost tries to avoid you under the excuse that he is very busy handling some important matters and he prays that you don’t suspect anything 🤔 but you must understand that he is trying to make it all perfect as he is literally scouting the spots where the branches of trees look the most luscious and alive?? #justlegolasthings
you’re just a little crestfallen that he seems not to have much time for you these days but you know he will make it up to you
it definitely happens out in nature, preferably at sunset or under the stars; even though the first thing this elf boy will clarify is that you are infinitely more beautiful than all of them
holds both your hands in his
on the outside he seems mostly calm but you know him well enough to know he is literally vibrating on the inside; and also his emotions shine in his eyes
a stunning artistically crafted ring, but dainty
his speech? spectacular. only that you were crying for most of it and he gets concerned for a second before realizing it is tears of joy
CONGRATS ur gonna spend the next 10000 years loving each other!
⋆｡°✩ BOROMIR
he knows relatively fast he is going to marry you, after having avoided marrying someone for many years; it’s just that nobody else ever came close to you, as if he was waiting for you all his life. you make him believe in fate.
stating the obvious: the ring is just magnificent (however, he will say not even such a gorgeous piece can come close to your beauty)
his location of choice is a balcony overlooking the city, but it has been decorated with candles and flower petals, and it happens in the evening after a dinner just for the two of you
romantic dinners were a regular occurrence so you didn’t expect anything but he did seem just slightly emotional or maybe reminiscent about your shared moments from your courtship… hmmmmm. are you at least a bit suspicious? 😛
nonchalant where, this man CRIES and can barely get through what he wants to say but that’s why you love him!!
he forgets to take out the ring from his pocket until after he finishes speaking, he’s just solely focused on you and can hardly believe how adoringly you’re looking at him
he has a bit of (extremely irrational) fear you will say no and breathes the biggest sigh of relief when you give him a resounding YES
once again saying HE IS THE TYPE TO PICK YOU UP AND SPIN YOU AROUND. love love love. that is canon to me 💞
⋆｡°✩ FRODO
he will most definitely psych himself out about it in his head even though you have never given him any indication that you wouldn’t want to spend the rest of your life with him
you guys like to talk about the future and daydream together a lot anyway, it’s not like you haven’t mentioned it a hundred times
but still! what if, when it actually happens, you change your mind?? he’s jittery 😓
he will try to make a little scavenger hunt for you and leave little messages/clues around! when it’s fun like that it’s less intimidating and he knows you well enough to know you will enjoy unraveling this lil mystery
so after he makes you explore a half of the shire, with the places that bear significance to you as a couple, at long last you find the blue eyed boy underneath a large blooming tree and it looks like a scene from a magical painting
the final clue you get is a love poem written just for you!!! he gives it to you to read (he honestly doesn't trust his voice in the moment so this is the safer path he totally will read it out to you later when he’s sure that you accepted the proposal and he can breathe properly!) and when you finish reading there he is on one knee looking at you like you’re a beautiful fantasy
you launch yourself at him, complete with a barrage of kisses; he’s laughing in relief; you barely even looked at the ring (which is very elegant and dreamy, but not basic)
thats ur hobbit prince charming bby! 😘
⋆｡°✩ SAM
the first time you kiss he can hear wedding bells, and you are very aware, through your many candid conversations, that you’re certainly getting engaged sooner rather than later
he really considers doing something super elaborate because you deserve the whole world, but he knows you fell for him because he doesn’t overcomplicate things; it’s all direct and simple and honest to a fault
and somehow (he still wonders how exactly) him just being himself absolutely stole your heart, so he tries to stick to an uncomplicated route
he knows you very well but he stresses so much over picking a ring OMG. but it’s very neat and lovely
your day starts with you waking up with fresh flowers on your bedside table and you know who’s the “secret” admirer who put them there; also an elaborate breakfast waiting for you in the kitchen ft. your smiling boyfriend fidgeting with his fingers as he admires your still sleepy self. also none of those things are suspicious because he treats you like that most days anyway
he hated the idea of waiting all day to do it and he would just get progressively more stressed so he literally appears next to your chair as soon as you’re done eating and he’s like “i gotta ask you somethin’” 🥺
before he even finishes speaking, you are nodding furiously, wiping off both your tears and his
(and then you live happily ever after and have like 100000 kids!)
⋆｡°✩ MERRY
let’s be real he’s just as surprised as you that he’s proposing to you because for the longest time he was like EUGH. COMMITMENT. and then you matched his freak and he was like ACTUALLY- 👀
but for real, you get extremely surprised because he is so crafty and good at scheming that you literally won’t suspect a thing
very unfortunately for him, he sort of over-plans and suddenly there’s too many aspects to keep track of and maybe the weather isn’t as he imagined it would be and maybe he accidentally ordered something to be done by the wrong date and he is almost losing his mind but has to act composed lest you completely see through the whole thing
but very fortunately for him, you’re unbothered that it’s raining lightly on your way to a cute picnic by the lake – you claim it adds to the atmosphere and just makes it more adventurous – and his pout turns into a grin because that’s why he’s so sure about you
he wants you to close your eyes and hold out your hand and you’re SUSPICIOUS bc who knows what he thought of now, but when you open your eyes to an absolute ROCK on your hand and him grinning like a fool on one knee, all the pieces fall into place
and he actually tells you all about his elaborate plans afterwards, but isn’t it so in character that it turned out to be semi-spontaneous and sweet instead? you chose him for a reason!
the ring? BANGING. is it perhaps because he wants it to be visible that you’re taken even from 50 miles away? no comment. also i say this with my whole chest that is A WIFE GUY. 😌
⋆｡°✩ PIPPIN
super incredibly high chance he does it by accident and without even thinking but the way he wears his lovely heart on his sleeve is the reason you’re in that situation in the first place!
but anyway. backtrack: he sort of used to daydream of someday having a nice love story, with a bit of idealistic outlook on the world; but he was simultaneously worried it would mean that he would have to be a stupid boring adult. 😒
and then there you were – so best-friend shaped, meeting his chaotic wavelength but with a talent for gently balancing it out when needed; and heaven help him (and you), he really wanted to kiss you and touch you and talk to you all the time
could you ever put him and ‘patience’ in the same sentence? HAH. what’s the point of waiting when everything you want is right there? that was his string of thoughts. but there’s only a slight stab of insecurity because he’s like what if you would only love him for a short while and then get bored (bored??? as if!)
he accidentally lets it slip and his green eyes widen, along with yours, and you giggle and you kiss him silly and he’s blushing and maybe it’s not so bad!
but he promises as soon as the ring is finished he will do it properly
then the two of you decide to throw a little party; none of your friends know you will get engaged for the second time at the party except the two of you and when have you ever done things the conventional way? as they all cheer in joy and disbelief, you two look at each other like you’ve just shared the world’s most sensational secret (did anyone notice he accidentally got down on both knees??)
fun times forever guaranteed!!!! 🎉
the one honorary member of the revived taglist @sweetheartrosesz ILYSM SWEETIE
plots inspired by "man's best friend" by sabrina carpenter
manchild
muse a realizes every relationship they've been in has been with emotionally stunted "manchildren." after yet another disastrous date, muse a swears off dating — until they meet muse b, someone who seems different... but they can't tell if they're really grown up, or just better at hiding it.
tears
after years of toxic relationships, muse a discovers how wildly attractive it is when muse b actually respects them — does the dishes, listens to them, shows up. the story follows them as they wrestle with whether love can really be this simple, or if they're waiting for the other shoe to drop.
my man on willpower
a couple struggles when the person they fell in love with — a spontaneous, passionate risk-taker — suddenly becomes obsessed with discipline and self-control. the tension builds as they long for the fire they once had, forcing them to question whether people really change, or if they just bury who they are.
sugar talking
muse a becomes entangled with muse b, who's all charm and no follow-through. muse b showers them with compliments and sweet words, but never shows up when it matters. as muse a slowly pulls away, they plan a confrontation that will expose whether muse b's sugar-coated promises were ever meant to mean anything.
we almost broke up again last night
set over the course of one wild evening, a couple teeters on the edge of breaking up for the third time in a month. between screaming matches, makeup kisses, and late-night texts, they must decide if the chaos is love — or just addiction to the drama.
nobody's son
muse a falls for muse b, who is detached, drifting, and refuses to belong to anyone — not a family, not a relationship, not even themself. muse a becomes determined to break through muse b's walls, only to discover that saving someone who doesn't want to be saved might cost them more than they can give.
never getting laid
a once-passionate couple falls into a rut, their physical connection all but gone. told with humor and frustration, muse a schemes increasingly ridiculous ways to reignite the spark — until an unexpected moment of vulnerability finally cracks the ice.
when did you get hot?
two lifelong friends who have always seen each other as platonic suddenly notice sparks. what was once familiarity turns into an awkward, thrilling tension as they both wrestle with the terrifying question: risk the friendship, or ignore the chemistry?
go go juice
one reckless night changes everything when, y/m is fueled by "liquid courage", makes a series of impulsive decisions — confessing feelings to someone they shouldn't, dialing an ex, and winding up in the middle of a scandal. now they have to deal with the fallout once the "juice" wears off.
don't worry i'll make you worry
after being strung along by muse b, who kept them up at night with games and uncertainty, muse a decides to flip the script. they become the one in control, the one who stirs doubt and insecurity, forcing muse b to finally understand what it feels like. but revenge quickly blurs into something more dangerous.
house tour
after meeting muse b, muse a decides to let their guard down in the most intimate way possible. framing their body as a "house," they invite muse b on a "tour" — every room, every corner, every hidden space. what starts playful quickly turns charged, a metaphor for exploring both muse a's physical desires and the deeper vulnerability of opening themself up to someone new.
goodbye
in the bittersweet closing chapter, muse a leaves a relationship for good. no "maybe later," no "what ifs." just finality. the story follows their first days of independence — grief, relief, freedom, and the terrifying, exhilarating step into a life without muse b.
(Side note: idk if ‘librarian in the big ass BPRD library’ is a real position in universe, but it will be today! Also- idk if you can even really call most of this headcanons- but ohhhh weeelll xo)
(Also I’m sorry if I butchered HB and/or the English language, it’s past midnight and I’m tired and delirious—)
• Ordinarily, the library was of little interest to Hellboy; he really only went in if he needed to, and the former librarian may as well have been part of the furnishings— but that was before you.
• His mission at the time was a particularly extreme haunting, and to figure out the cause, some sleuthing needed to be done… He needed some old occultist texts, well, some copies of some old occultist texts— after all, the real stuff was too ancient and delicate (and cursed) to keep around people.
• So, to the library he went— with a singular purpose, fully intending to get outta there and back on the job asap… but something threw him for an unexpected loop: a new librarian. It’s unusual to see fresh faces at the bureau; hell- he’s sure your former must’ve worked there going on 30 odd years, so seeing you was a surprise, to say the least.
• The first thing that really caught his attention was the state of your desk, seeing as you’d completely covered it in.. well, crap, as far as he was concerned— small stuffed animals and hyper-cute figures, trinkets of all kinds, toys— you’ve got a couple little... things he’s pretty sure are Hello Kitty? Maybe? He didn’t look down on it necessarily, but like... is that allowed?
• The second thing that caught his attention was the way you smiled at him; it was instant, easy—you didn’t hesitate… Nor did you hesitate in speaking to him “Hello! What can I help you with?”
• After getting what he needed, he found himself compelled to spark up some sort of conversation with you, why? Well, you were new— and certainly… intriguing…
• “So- what happened to, uh...” he gestured vaguely around you, and you took a second to work out what he was getting at “Oh! Mr. Volkov? He retired, great guy. I’m really happy for him!”
• Well, you certainly have a sunny workplace disposition— “Right, well- that’s good...” there was a brief moment of silence between the two of you before he gave you a nod “Thanks... ‘Preciate it”
• Over the course of the next few weeks, Big Red finds himself popping into the library more and more frequently. At first, he lies to himself, telling himself he’s trying to turn over a new leaf and really apply himself to increasing his knowledge of the paranormal, not wanting to always rely on Abe for it— yada yada blah blah, it’s all a racket, though— in reality, he just wants excuses to see you.
• You’re just so normal about him, so nice to him… That might seem like a low bar, but you have to remember, 95% of the people around him are afraid of him on some level, either treating him like this volatile, ticking time bomb or looking at him like he’s a one-man freak show… but with you? It’s different…
• The small talk you two share soon graduates into actual conversation, dare he say, banter, and he even becomes comfortable enough to joke around with you… not in his normal dry, defensive way either—
• He tells himself that his budding workplace crush on you is nothing more than that— you’re cute, you’re nice to chat with, you’re... so sweet…but that’s it! Unfortunately though, he realizes he’s in tremendously deep shit when one day, while laughing at one of his stories, you put your hand on his arm… It’s a small gesture; you do it so casually… but it’s enough to set his pulse racing, and when it happens, he practically has to clench every muscle in his body to keep his tail from wagging too obviously.
• Needless to say, this whole kerfuffle has made him very antsy— even more than usual, so, to clear his head, he breaches containment to go on a little unauthorized ‘patrol’ of the city. While jumping from rooftop to rooftop, he spots something out of place on the block below.. Nestled between a cafe and a bookstore, is a little stand absolutely overflowing with stuffed animals— it’s glaringly pastel against the otherwise dull surroundings, and the sight is nearly enough to give him a migraine, but…
Looking up from your work, you see Hellboy striding your way. “Hey you” you lilt, flashing him a broad, genuine smile.
“Hey,” he replies, closing the distance between you. He stands in front of your desk, the fingers of his right hand twitching at his side, a lifelong nervous habit you hear before you see, stone scraping faintly “I… gotcha somthin’”
“…You.. did?” Got you something? That’s the last thing you expected to hear— and he barely gives you time to process the news before reaching into his coat, pulling out a very obviously bootleg Sanrio plush— you’re fairly certain it’s supposed to be My Melody, but the eyes are way too far apart, and her little ears are two completely different sizes…
You take it in your hands, looking it over— it really is comical, but you don’t laugh; you’re too busy processing how sweet of a gesture this is… You turn your attention back to Hellboy. “I don’t know what to say-“
He shrugs “S’just a stuffed animal. I know you like all that cutesy crap...” he’s trying to act nonchalant, but it’s exceedingly difficult when you’re looking at him like he hung the damn moon over a stupid toy— but then, it’s more than that… and you both know it…
Your lips pull upward into a sly grin, and you hug the plushie to your chest “Sooo… you realize this means I’m gonna be hoping for a gift every time you go out now, right?” You tease, batting your eyes exaggeratedly at him.
He scoffs, tail flicking behind him, unable to hold back a smirk. “Don’t count on it...”
the youngest watson follows her brother to baker street, and accidentally discovers that some devils wear collars, adapt too easily, and smile too kindly.
Summary: Moriarty is your boss. After he helped you out of a precarious situation when you were still a minor, you started working for him. Now, he has a new job for you. Get close to the Holmes brothers to keep an eye on them for him.
Pairings: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Mycroft Holmes/Reader & Jim Moriarty/Reader
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Word count: 2252 words
Masterlist AO3
‘You need to snap out of it.’
You’re staring at yourself in the mirror, hands clenching around the edge of the sink. You’d be meeting with Jim in less than an hour and you are a mess. Having just gotten out of the shower, your hair is still wet, water dripping onto your face while your towel is tied around your hips. For some reason, the cold calculated person you were before this particular mission seems to have vanished to some extent and it frustrates you to say the least. You’re fully aware of the implications of this attachment—the problems it causes for how well you’re able to function; no, execute your mission. How well you’re able to do the one thing you’re good at.
First, you run a hand through your hair, then over your face. ‘For fuck’s sake.’ Your voice is quiet. ‘Get it together. Be Spike.’ After letting out a harsh breath, you slap a bottle off of the counter and walk out, to your bedroom, to get dressed; realise your hair is still wet; return to the bathroom to dry it; and then go back to your bedroom once it’s done.
Getting dressed is a silent affair. Black long-sleeve, black fisherman's jumper over top; the one pair of light-washed jeans you own, straight leg; and a pair of black, low, doc martens. You push your bed up and reveal your weapons arsenal to yourself. Handgun goes in the back of your jeans, knife in your left sock. You look over your weapons again, then decide that it’s unlikely you’ll be needing much more, and put your bed back down.
You stand back up and grab a black bomber jacket and a black scarf, putting them on before grabbing your keys, wallet, and phones and leaving. You put in your earbuds once outside and start walking to the tube at a brisk pace.
You meet Jim in the Waterstones at Piccadilly, hating absolutely every single minute you spend there. It’s crowded, loud, and for some reason there is a weird smell at the back of the second floor; near the philosophy section. The fifth floor is where you meet him, in the foreign language section. He’s there already, flipping through a French language copy of The Count of Monte Cristo.
‘Bit dramatic, that book.’ You murmur as you trail your hand over the spines of the books in front of you. ‘Hmmm, perhaps.’ He replies, his Irish accent immediately noticeable. ‘There’re no cameras in the back office. The code is 1 2 3 4.’ Jim murmurs before walking in the direction of the office. Of course, you cannot follow immediately, as that would be too obvious, so, you walk around for a bit; checking books, reading the backs, and flipping through; before eventually making a round and slipping into the back office.
Jim’s sitting in the office chair, typing on his phone. ‘Ah, you’re here.’ He sends out a text before getting up. ‘Right, Spikey.’ His eyes focus on you. ‘You called me while incredibly drunk at New Year’s.’
You can feel heat creeping up your neck and to your ears. Shame. Shame on you for getting drunk; for not being as sharp as usual; for not being his perfect weapon. ‘You don’t remember.’ He states as if it’s a well known fact. And he’s right. You don’t remember why you’d called him; what you’d said to him. ‘Correct.’ Your reply is curt, to the point. He sighs, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes. ‘I’ll be honest, I’m disappointed. And I don’t like being disappointed.’ He sighs. ‘I’m used to you being better than this.’ He steps forward, and despite his not very tall stature, it does intimidate you.
‘Spike, I’ll be up front with you, because you’re one of my favourites.’ He pauses, his tone lowering when he continues. ‘I need you to be good and let go of this little crisis of conscience, got it?’ ‘Yes Jim.’ You reply shamefully, eyes turned downwards. ‘Hey, hey, look at me.’ He says, slapping your cheek lightly before grabbing your chin. You listen, your gaze meeting his almost immediately.
‘I need you to remember who you are.’ He hisses. ‘You’re mine, Spike. Mine.’ There’s a pause before he continues. ‘You’d be nothing without me. I made you. So act like it, will you?’ You haven’t seen this side of him in a long time, especially not towards you. Yet, you understand this is likely what you needed. He’s doing this for your own good. And so, you comply; nodding slightly and murmuring an ‘I understand, Jim. I’ll be better.’. And he corrects you. ‘Better is not enough.’ ‘Sorry, I’ll be good, Jim.’
There’s a moment of tense silence before he murmurs a ‘good’. You expect him to immediately step back, but he doesn’t. Instead, he pulls you towards him and presses his lips to yours. Against your better judgement, you kiss him back and let him deepen it. His hand moves from your chin to the back of your neck before he turns you and pushes you against the desk. Not sure what to do with your hands, you grab hold of his waist. Fingers further pushing into the fabric of his coat when he pushes himself between your thighs.
Tongues grazing past teeth before entangling with each other, hands grabbing at the clothes you’re both wearing. He pushes your bomber jacket off your shoulders before his hands find themselves beneath your jumper. They graze past the gun sticking out of the back of your jeans. ‘Naughty.’ He murmurs before kissing you again. With every movement, with every murmur, it’s as if he’s trying to claim—no, reclaim—you.
The desk beneath you is uncomfortable, the edges starting to become harsh and painful against your bottom. You’re about to pull away and say something when you hear voices coming towards the office. ‘Shit.’ Jim murmurs and you swiftly put your jacket back on, make sure your clothes sit right again and walk to the door, listening to get a better idea of what is happening outside. Jim, meanwhile, is fixing how he looks, making sure it’s presentable enough.
After a moment, you’re quite sure the people outside have left for a moment, saying something about having to check something downstairs for a bit. So, you signal to Jim that the coast is clear. He nods and approaches, but before he opens the door to leave, he gives you one last deep kiss; hand gripping your jacket. After letting go, he swiftly slips out the door, leaving you behind, stunned.
The walk back to the apartment is spent blasting music into your ears, trying to distract yourself from what had just happened. You cannot have this distract you; quite the opposite, you’ll have to use this to refocus. Recalibrate. And so, the thirty minutes that encapsulate your walk back home functions as a way for you to do so.
There’s a drizzle pouring down as you’re walking, so by the time you arrive back, you’re soaked. Just as you’re about to open the door, it swings open and Sherlock rushes out, just about knocking you over. ‘Ah, Charlie, there you are.’ He says, setting you straight again. John arrives moments later. ‘Good afternoon.’ The doctor greets you with a small smile before he realises you’re drenched. ‘You ought to get inside quickly, you’ll catch a cold if you don’t.’ ‘I’m aware.’ You murmur before starting to move past them. Sherlock, however, momentarily stops you in your tracks. ‘You’re distraught.’ He observes and you ignore him, moving into the doorway. ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’
When you glance back as you’re walking back inside, you see how the consulting detective glances at the doctor and how the doctor silently tells him to stay quiet and not comment any further. So, he does, and the door shuts before he can say anything else.
John, being the sort of man he is, worries about the situation, and so, decides to go check on you that evening, after having finished up another case with Sherlock. The detective himself is currently occupied doing an experiment John would rather not be involved with. You’d just been making dinner when he knocked on your door, and you’d been quite surprised at his arrival, yet you let him in and hand him a cup of tea.
You also offer him food, and he gladly accepts, muttering something about Sherlock’s experiment being quite smelly. So, you set the small kitchen table for two before finishing up the simple vegetarian stir fry you had been preparing when he knocked on your door. It’s pretty simple, just some soba noodles, firm tofu, bok choi, chinese cabbage, paprika, cucumber, ginger, garlic, soy sauce, sesame oil, and a homemade spice blend.
The pan is set onto the table before you also grab two glasses of cold water and join John. ‘I hope you like stir fry.’ You put some onto John’s plate before your own. ‘I do.’ He replies and takes a bite. ‘Oh this is good.’ The doctor perks up, positively surprised by its flavour. ‘Thanks.’ You turn to your own plate, slowly eating.
Honestly, you don’t quite have the energy for this, however, you do appreciate the gesture of him coming over. It does help that he starts off by going into the case he and Sherlock had worked on today in detail after only a single question regarding it.
You nod and ask follow-up questions at the right moments, putting him at ease. Unfortunately for you, after about an hour and after having done the dishes, he still hadn’t forgotten the reason why he stopped by in the first place.
‘You seemed upset earlier today.’ John starts off, his eyes scanning your face for any signs that could help him understand. ‘It’s nothing.’ You reply, trying to do so casually. ‘I just… something came up.’ Your eyes dart away, breaking the eye contact he was trying to hold. ‘Look, I’m aware that we don’t know each other very well, but I’m here for you if you need anyone to talk to.’ His voice is sincere, honest, and kind. The exact opposite of what you are used to. People in the circles you usually traverse are the exact opposite. Any moment of weakness is used against you, with it not only being able to hurt you, but also proving fatal to some. The only person you would truly trust with your actual thoughts and feelings is Sebastian, yet with the relationship between you and Jim having changed and him not knowing about it, you feel that you cannot speak to him regarding this issue. So, perhaps, you could tell John to some extent. Perhaps he would understand. And so, against your better judgement, you do open up a little to him while still leaving out certain key details.
‘I’m in a bit of a conundrum, I must admit.’ You say quietly and his ears seem to perk up. He’s sitting across from you at the kitchen table, eyes soft, face empathetic. He’s silently inviting you to talk, to get it off your chest. ‘As you know, I’ve been seeing someone,’ your voice is quiet, soft, perhaps even vulnerable, ‘and while it has been… well it has been quite lovely, there are things that—well I just don’t really know what to do.’ Your gaze is focused on your hands, which lay folded on the table in front of you. It’s clear you’re not used to talking about your feelings to say the least. ‘Well… I mean if it’s an issue with the person, perhaps you should talk to them.’ John suggests kindly. ‘That’s the thing, it’s not the person’s fault. It’s just.. I’m the problem.’ ‘How are you the problem? I feel you’re a very kind person who tries to do their best.’
You let out a dry laugh at his comment. Kind. How wrong he really is. You lie, manipulate, and kill. ‘I—I just think that perhaps—’ you stop yourself momentarily, ‘there’s someone from my past… who I might have feelings for.’ Your admittance is reluctant and you don’t dare look at him. So, he reaches over the table and takes your hands in his.
‘Hey, look at me…’ His voice is soft, as if he understands. Your gaze meets his after a moment of silence. ‘It’s very human to doubt. To maybe even have feelings for someone else—at least to some extent. I mean, of all people, I’d know what that’s like.’ That catches your attention, despite the situation you’re in and how you’ve been feeling.
Instantly, your brain switches on and you compartmentalise your own feelings so you can use this. ‘Do you want to talk about it…?’ You squeeze his hands for a moment. To your surprise, he agrees and starts talking.
‘As you know, I’ve had a few girlfriends over the past few months.’ ‘You mean Sarah and… what’s her name? Jeanette?’ He gives a nod, confirming the fact. ‘Yes, well… they both broke up with me for the same reason.’ He pauses. ‘And sometimes, I think they might be right—that they might be right about me having feelings for Sherlock.’
There’s a pregnant pause. One you barely dare to interrupt, and yet you do.
‘You know it’s alright to have feelings for him, right?’ You try to sound empathetic, kind, and inviting. ‘I know.’ He sounds defensive at first before another, quieter, ‘I know’ follows.
Hello! So... I meant to finish up a Mycroft one-shot first, but... this kinda just flowed out and I prefer posting once I'm done rather than keeping people waiting... Will be working on the one-shot again today, though, so hopefully there'll be one early next week!
Also! Johnlock maybe? Who knows...
Spike and John trying to give each other advice is like the blind leading the blind lol
‘Why are you at Hospital?’ you stare at the text, confusion all over your face. The first being who the hell is texting you?, and how did they know where you are? You look around the room for anyone out of place. Finding nothing you turn back to your phone.
‘Who is this?’ your phone dings with a text almost instantly.
‘It’s Moriarty, Love’ you visibly freeze. ‘But you can call me Jim 💕✨’
You have so many questions yet you're asking, ‘Why are you texting me?’
‘I saw you were at hospital, I thought I was going to have to kill someone’
‘What the hell do you mean by that? How did you know I was at the hospital anyway?’ you stare at your phone this is the first time he hasn’t texted you back instantly.
‘I always keep an eye on my assets’, is he implying what you think he is? ‘Your mine, afterall can’t let anyone hurt you’ Your eyes widen almost comically. Jim Moriarty, self proclaimed villain just told you were his. How are you supposed to respond to that? You’ve only met him a handful of times, half of them with Sherlock, and you would not describe them as ‘friendly’. So where on earth did he get the idea that you fancied him.
‘I’m not yours’ it should be obvious to him that you would never date him. Yet here you are rejecting him over text.
‘You are, you just don’t know it yet’ you don’t text back just pocketing your phone. Trying to forget the conversation ever happened, especially when Sherlock comes dragging you away.
He was just messing around, trying to get in your head. At least that's what you tell yourself. Until you return home and find a large bouquet and a card.
To My Love,
Im deadly Serious your MINE
Yours, Jim Moriarty
