Ooh no but now I’m thinking about a Sherlock Mob AU…. Maybe I should write some because that’s some great shit and I don’t think it’s that common…. Yeah you can totally hit me up with moblock like any time
Brand new prompt and I'm just trying stuff out. I'll likely make a more written out one, but I hardly ever see Moblock or a Mob Au, and I love the idea. Thank you so much for taking my prompt stranger!
You: Your men were on my territory again. -SH ((Moblock Au))
Stranger: They won't go in there again. I'll make sure of that. JW
You: That isn't the first time I've heard this, Watson. -SH
Are you looking for war? -SH'
Stranger: I'm not looking for anything, Holmes. JW
Stranger: We do what we do. None of your business. JW
You: It is my business as soon as it's on my territory, and you know that. -SH
Stranger: Well, like I said, they won't get in there again. JW
You: Make sure of it, Watson, or you'll be taking a trip to my office to collect their bodies. -SH
Stranger: Lay a finger on them and I'll crush you. JW3
You: I'd like to see you try. -SH
Stranger: [No reply]
You: Do ensure you keep off my territory. If you don't, well, I'll have to teach you. -SH
Have a nice night, Watson. I suggest you keep away from the Donnovans as well; they always cheat. -SH
Stranger: Nice night to you as well, Holmes. JW
You: I certainly will. -SH
You: [Three Days Later] Make a detour. You won't be meeting your clients for dinner. -SH
Stranger: I won't be? JW
You: Oh no. You'll be with me. -SH
Stranger: With you? And what will we be doing? JW
You: We'll have a talk. You'll persuade me not to kill your men. -SH
Stranger: They haven't gotten into your territory. JW
You: Not that you know of. -SH
Wonder what you'd say to the proof I have? -SH
Stranger: You don't have any proof. JW
You: I have a whole file of proof. Did you know they've been skimming the fat off the milk, Watson? -SH
No, of course not. You expect men to be honest in a dishonest work place. -SH
Stranger: I've warned them. If they got in there again, it's all their problem. JW
You: Your warnings clearly aren't scary enough. -SH
Dinner, with me. -SH
Stranger: Is this your way of asking me out
Stranger: ? JW
You: Perhaps. -SH
Stranger: Hm. JW
Stranger: I'll consider it. JW
You: You have until 6. -SH
Stranger: Alright. JW
Stranger: [5:50] Where? JW
You: Angelo's. I know you're aware of the address. -SH
Stranger: Perfectly aware. JW
Stranger: It is in your territory, though. Should I expect to be killed? JW
You: I've made an exception for you. -SH
Stranger: How kind of you. JW
Stranger: How kind of you. JW
You: More so selfish, but I'll take it. -SH
Stranger: So when should I be there? JW
You: Would 7 be too early? Perhaps 7:30? -SH
Stranger: 7 is perfectly fine. If I'll be any later than that, I'm either dead or still trying to find a shirt that isn't ripped. JW
You: I suppose I should be flattered that you're going to such means to make yourself look so good. -SH
Stranger: I need to work hard. I'm not like you, always wearing all these posh suits. How do you even keep them so clean and undamaged? JW
You: I keep my hands clean. -SH
Stranger: Well, you can afford to. JW
You: That's because I'm good at what I do. -SH
Stranger: I'm good at what I do as well. JW
You: Not as good as me, but yes. You're on your way. -SH
Stranger: Are you going to give me tips
Stranger: ? JW
You: No. -SH
Stranger: Mean. JWA
You: I suppose. -SH
Stranger: I've never eaten at Angelo's. Is it any good? JW
You: I find their Chicken Piccata quite delicious and authentic. -SH
Stranger: Maybe I would as well. JW
You: Or their Marsala. -SH
Stranger: All sounds very good. JW
You: It is. -SH
Stranger: See you at 7, then. JW
You: I look forward to it. -SH
Stranger: I do as well. JW
You: Sherlock dragged his fingers through his hair, leaning forward as the car drifted to a stop. The men had been killed, considering John wasn't going to plead their case. Which was truly all for the better. He didn't want to waste his time when he was likely going to kill them all anyhow. Smoothing down the front of his suit, the lithe man moved into the back of the building, catching up with his men to ensure the date went as successfully as planned. He'd be in Angelo's office until the blond arrived, getting ready. His hair was taken care of, his suit changed for something far more decadent and accentuating, and it was obvious that he'd dressed to the nines. With the notification that John's car had been spotted, the man let himself be led to the front, in a constantly reserved booth. Seating himself, he ordered some wine and waited for his date to show.
Stranger: Five of John's men were dead. He knew that now, and surprisingly, couldn't care less. He had warned these men more than three times. They were fully aware that going into a territory that isn't theirs was risky. They knew that they could be killed, and did it anyway, the idiots. It took John about a half an hour just finding clothes that were clean, ironed and undamaged. He showered, cleaning himself thoroughly, and wearing the cream colored jumper and dark jeans he had found. Looking at himself in the mirror, he frowned, knowing that the clothes downgraded him, that he didn't look as serious. He got into his car and drove off to Angelo's, adjusting the gun tucked to the waist of his jeans before walking into the restaurant. Seeing Sherlock there, he smirked, coming on to sit before him. "Hello."
You: Circling his fingers around the tabletop, Sherlock cocked his head to the side and gave a short scoff. "I would ask if that were a gun in your pocket, but you've hidden it in a more accessible place." Was the reply the brunet opened with. Leaning forward to rest both elbows on the table, the mob boss let his gaze wander before lifting. "Your jumper is frumpy, it hides your stockier frame, but I find that it is my favorite one that you wear. May I?" He inquired, not even bothering to wait for an answer as he grazed his fingers over the fabric. "Just as I imagined the texture to be..." Sherlock chuckled before leaning back and out of reach. "I haven't ordered anything but wine. While I assume you go with their chicken Marsala, and I with their Rollatini, I determined it more polite to wait."
Stranger: John let out a small huff at that, simply sitting back, letting the other lean closer and fiddle with his jumper. "I'm glad you're happy with my choice of clothing." he let his eyes scan over Sherlock's frame in return, feeling envious of the way his silk button up framed his perfect, slim frame. "Doing something polite, for once, I see," The blond said with a chuckle. "How very unselfish of you. Yes, I was going to go with the Marsala. You can order now, if you'd like," saying that, he picked up the wine bottle and poured himself a generous glass, sipping it slowly. "Good choice. I quite like this."
You: As John took his sip of wine, Sherlock couldn't help watching the way the man's lips moved over the glass. Or how his lips shaped each word. Smirking, he tored his gaze away and sent one look to a man just at the side. It wasn't even a minute before the owner and chef came out, notepad in hand. "Chicken Marsala with your Panchetta Rollatini, and if you would, which I know you will, a small appetizer now and then a desert twenty minutes after the main meal." Drawled the lithe man, eyes sliding away from the chef to focus slowly on the blond. "You look good tonight. I must admit that I'm surprised that you accepted... I assumed you would dodge my advances."
Stranger: John was completely silent, letting the other do all the work as he ordered the food for them both. He gave a small smile to the owner and the chef, since it was obvious that they knew the profession of the two people eating there. He straightened at the compliment. "I think you look very nice as well, but that's no different to any other day." he paused, and added a moment later. "I couldn't let this opportunity slip. Fancy dinner at an Italian restaurant. This... special treatment. As you seem to know the owner of the place so well." He replied. Honestly, John has always needed a chance to get to know Sherlock better. He had always been curious. "Also, I've got five men dead. I think that considering that I deserve some comfort food." he said with a smile.
You: Practically preening at the compliment, the man's smirk seemed to just /grow/. It wasn't every day that one heard an actual /genuine/ compliment. Praise came within the hour, but most was for selfish gain than anything. "I saved his business once; quite a shame that no one else could appreciate authenticity. It is truly delicious and I always come once a week. Perhaps I'll invite you with me more?" Sherlock released, setting the prospect of more dates on the table. It was all show, truly. John was his and it seemed that everyone but the man himself knew. From the moment the blond had risen into awareness, the boss had been interested. Always waiting with bated breaths until the perfect opportunity arose. "Should you need more than comfort food, John, I would be... /Delighted/ to give it to you." Sherlock purred, truly emphasizing his words so the man knew what he was really offering.
Stranger: The sandy haired man sipped his drink again, slowly, considering that suggestion. Sherlock always seemed to give him special treatment, even though he was no different to any other 'street rat', or so him and his people were often called. He barely had any power over other bosses, the number of men he had with him was small, their skill barely above average, though no one seemed to come for him. The group under Holmes, who were known for destroying whoever dated intrude them, did nothing. He was sure that Sherlock had something to do with it. "I'll see about that once the food arrives." He eventually replied, smiling softly as he put his glass down. John's eyes caught the other's own and he never broke eye-contact, gaze steady. He licked his lips. "I'm sure you will."
You: That was as much of a yes as he would be getting for the time being. Which was /perfect/ because it meant the anticipation could build. Keeping connection, Sherlock let the blond in just the bit and displayed more of his attraction. He angled himself gradually, showing off vulnerable parts of the body that always elicited a physical response. The flash of a wrist, the temptation of lips, and the tilt of a chin to expose the long column known as a neck. Body language was important, and Sherlock knew how to manipulate it to his advantage. "What is your favorite color, John? Color can tell quite a bit about a person's mentality or personality... Are you more interested in red, or perhaps blue?" He pressed, bringing his wine finally to his lips for a sip, only to make a point of dragging the tip of his tongue over the seam of his mouth to 'clean' it.
Stranger: John knew awfully well what the other was doing. And it worked. Definitely worked. As inexperienced in seduction as he was, knowing that he didn't have the other's powers of observation, the blond was doing his very best to return each gesture with one of his own and reply. He recognized the playful spark in Sherlock's eyes and knew that he had one of his own. John shifted, turning his head aside to look over at the nearly empty restaurant. "Purple," John replies, his eyes moving down to gaze at the other's shirt, which matched his color of choice. "What about you? Have any favorite colors?"
Will someone please tell me if these mob!John married to the mob photosets are off an actual fic? If so, I need this in my life. There may be virtual hugs and cookies in it for you.
