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Reichenbach Rising: Part 3Chapter 3
Fractured external malleolus, broken nose, mild blood loss, and eight stiches in his left temple, the Doctor thought to himself. John Watson had been through much worse. The ex-medic was sleeping at the moment, lying in a huge four poster bed in one of the Tardis's many guestrooms. It was nearly three hours since they'd brought him here, and Sherlock's worrying was reaching audible levels again.
The Doctor stood in the doorway, watching the consulting detective nervously run his fingers back and forth against the arm of his chair.
"He's not going to wake up any time soon, Sherlock. You should go and clean up. When he does come round, do you want him to see you like this?"
Sherlock had yet to leave John's side, even to change his clothes. He was spattered with blood from when he had punched Moran in the warehouse, and there was a long tear in the shoulder of his collared shirt. He flicked a glance down and shook his head. "John's seen worse."
"Right now it's not
Reichenbach Rising: Part 2
John surfaced in a darkened room. There was some sort of light source on a table to his left, but he couldn't make it out through his still blurred-vision. He attempted to move and found his arms tied behind his back. He blinked and tugged at his bonds, only to be met with a swirl of dizziness. Struggling not to throw up, John hung his head and stared at his lap.
"Boss, he's awake."
John looked up again just as a tall, blonde man with a high-tech sniper rifle over one shoulder stepped into his field of vision.
Oh no . . . John's stomach sunk as he recognized his captor. Sebastian Moran, Moriarty's right hand man and gun for hire. One of the most ruthless, most capable minds in the city now that London had lost its two geniuses.
"Doctor Watson, so good of you to join us," Moran said in a low, smooth voice. "Last time I saw you, it was down the barrel of a rifle."
"What do you want, Moran?" John said flatly, not taking his eyes off the man.
"I have a q
IronmanHear me read it
My friends used to call William "Ironman" because the first time we kissed he got a nosebleed and the taste of his blood haunted me for a long time after it. We'd only been twelve years old and apparently the anxiety spiked his blood pressure to the point of combustion... I remember that when we were forced to take sex ed a few years later we were divided into separate classes for boys and girls, in case a diagram of an ovary was too risqué and we became animalistic and started clawing at each other in our seats, but nonetheless when our teacher Ms Jacobs had explained to us what an erection was in my mind all I could picture was the blood rushing to his nose and then the slash of cranberry across my blouse.
With the idea planted in his mind it didn't take long for William's hands to start wandering, but the image persisted. Every time I thought about just letting it happen I wondered what would happen if he got too excite
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More