Warnings: None.

Got another gif chapter for y'all.

I'm never saying y'all again that was a mistake. I also slipped in a Batman v Superman reference.

~

|SHERLOCK HOLMES|
IMAGINE: SHERLOCK FUSSING WITH HIS HAIR

You had successfully managed to keep your boyfriend of two years, Sherlock Holmes, still for a few minutes and agree to going out for something that wasn't case-related. You'd spent a while putting gel in his hair, partially to annoy him. The moment you turned away, he ran his fingers frantically through his hair, turning to undo the work you had done.

"John, tell me it looks normal."

|JIM MORIARTY|
IMAGINE: BEING A TRIPLE AGENT FOR MORIARTY

The familiar sound of Sherlock Holmes' voice echoed throughout the pool, causing you to draw your gun and aim it at Jim's head. The curly-haired man smirked, believing he had taken Moriarty off guard. You shifted your aim a fraction to skim past your lover's head, shifting by you gaze to the Holmes brother. A brief moment of shock encompassed his features.

"Wasn't expecting that one, now were you Mister Holmes?"

|JOHN WATSON|
IMAGINE: JOHN HEARING YOU SINGING

All it had taken was one box full of your favourite albums as a teenager and an old stereo for you to lose all dignity. You screamed the chorus at the top of your lungs, all the passion you could muster going into the song. John and Sherlock were downstairs, making their way up to your apartment when the bass shook the floor, causing John to hush Sherlock and point upstairs.

"Is that (y/n)?"
"No John, some woman broke into her apartment and started playing songs from a band that broke up four years ago."

|MARY MORSTAN|
IMAGINE: AWKWARD FIRST IMPRESSION

You were the new occupant of apartment 221C, managing to snatch up the spot from your mother's close friend, Martha Hudson. Convinced on making a good first impression, you shuffled upstairs with some tea. A gunshot rang out, startling you and causing you to drop the fragile set. You bolted upstairs, phone and pepper spray in hand, ready to dial for the police. You threw the door wide open, greeted by a blonde and a brunette yelling at another man. The woman turned, giving you an awkward thumbs up.

"Uh... I'm Mary Morstan. I don't actually live here, I'm just sort of visiting. Sorry for the... noise."
"(Y/n) (y/l/n). I do live here. Why the hell are you shooting a gun inside?"

|IRENE ADLER|
IMAGINE: IRENE HEARING NEWS OF YOUR DEATH

Irene didn't know what to do. She didn't know how she was supposed to continue on without you. She didn't know she was going to receive a text message in the middle of the night, explaining that you had been murdered. Tears filled her eyes and shock overtook her, grief threatening to consume her.

"There must be a mistake. She was fine."

|MOLLY HOOPER|
IMAGINE: MOLLY DEFENDING YOU

A satisfying and resounding slap silenced Sherlock Holmes, an infuriated expression adorning Molly's face. She glared at him, looking ready to slap him again, but you walked up to her and held her hands tenderly. You shook your head and held her now loving gaze, shortly before she turned to face the detective.

"Don't ever insult (y/n) like that again, or you can forget about the constant supply for your 'experiments'."

|MYCROFT HOLMES|
IMAGINE: BEING BLACKMAILED INTO SPYING

The greatest power in the British government sat before you, not an air of caution in his voice as he threatened to expose you. Your boyfriend refused to even blink, not letting you believe you could get out of this. A lump formed in your throat and you swallowed, taking with it your anxiety. You contemplated rushing him and escaping, but you had no doubt there were too many people outside for even you to take out.

"I honestly thought we were more than this Mycroft."
"To believe I could be capable of sentiment is to be naive."

|GREG LESTRADE|
IMAGINE: SALTING GREG'S COFFEE

The inspector leaned back in his chair, taking a large bite from his chocolate donut - which you had supplied. He refused to give you the resources you needed to solve a case for another department, effectively pissing you off. He took a swig of his coffee, grimacing at the salty taste.

"It's not our division."
"And it's not my division to personally collect your coffee."

|MRS HUDSON|
IMAGINE: SCARING MRS HUDSON

You stumbled out of your apartment, blood pouring from a wound in your shoulder and another above your knee. Pain jolted up your leg with every step, and you dragged your bloody hand across the wall to support yourself. You approached a corner, collapsing into the hallway and frightening Mrs Hudson into producing a shrill scream. 

"Martha..."