credit where credit is due: I read a fic on ao3 that worked with a similar premise, whose title I can't remember now. I'm also not in the medical profession so.
small comfort
."Here," he says. The long length of his arm bent at the elbow, his fingertips just brushing against her ribs. She doesn't need him to finish his deduction to know what he's talking about. There is only one thing it could be, and she cannot forget; her own palm returning to this place when she is alone in the cold empty spaces of morning
( ... )
Filthy, filthy...lack of porn, actually. However, I assure you it’s distinctly adult. Warnings for that, and also for heinous misuse of ACD canon quotes. I am remorseless.
I made an LJ account just for this, yes.
Building Bricks Without Zipper Masks.“Knew it right from the first moment I saw you,” Sherlock says. “Domme right down to the core. Kept eye-contact, stared me down. Bit freaked out-course you were, I seem to remember I professed my undying love, but you didn’t let it get to you
( ... )
They haven’t slept together. She hasn’t even kissed him. She tries to imagine it; she’s never sure she likes men with stubble, but she thinks he’d be a good kisser. Still, that’s mechanical, and she tries to go deeper and really imagine. He’s tactile; he’d have his hands everywhere. His mouth would be warm. He’d taste of-well. She’d make him brush his teeth first.
“I’m sitting on a sofa,” Sherlock says unhelpfully. “You’re imagining kissing me. Would you like to try?”
“I think that would be a bad idea,” Joan says.
“You misunderstand. Regardless of whether it would be a bad idea or not, would you like to
( ... )
“Anything but Mistress.” A beat-their eyes meet, and she knows she doesn’t have to say or doctor. He wouldn’t bring it up. He’s not sensitive, but he’s clever; if he’s looking at her like he looks at his cases, then he can’t have missed something so obvious
( ... )
Oh mannn, I love this. I think it really works as platonic! Also, you manage to get their voices down really well while still making them sound appropriately teenage, which is REALLY TOUGH. Anyway, yes, fabulous. :D
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small comfort
."Here," he says. The long length of his arm bent at the elbow, his fingertips just brushing against her ribs. She doesn't need him to finish his deduction to know what he's talking about. There is only one thing it could be, and she cannot forget; her own palm returning to this place when she is alone in the cold empty spaces of morning ( ... )
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I made an LJ account just for this, yes.
Building Bricks Without Zipper Masks.“Knew it right from the first moment I saw you,” Sherlock says. “Domme right down to the core. Kept eye-contact, stared me down. Bit freaked out-course you were, I seem to remember I professed my undying love, but you didn’t let it get to you ( ... )
Reply
“I’m sitting on a sofa,” Sherlock says unhelpfully. “You’re imagining kissing me. Would you like to try?”
“I think that would be a bad idea,” Joan says.
“You misunderstand. Regardless of whether it would be a bad idea or not, would you like to ( ... )
Reply
“Anything but Mistress.” A beat-their eyes meet, and she knows she doesn’t have to say or doctor. He wouldn’t bring it up. He’s not sensitive, but he’s clever; if he’s looking at her like he looks at his cases, then he can’t have missed something so obvious ( ... )
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