Sherlock Imagines

You are being dragged into prison for the fifth time. The hold the government agents have on you is excruciatingly painful. You don't care, though. You're laughing maniacally.

"I like it rough," you say as they shove you into a cell. An agent slams the door shut, making the bars vibrate. You giggle, seeing the fury in their eyes. "Shut up or you're going to be placed in solitary confinement," he says. You giggle even harder. "I like when you threaten me," you say. The agent storms off, leaving the guards to watch over your cell.

You giggle even more, amused at the fury of the agent. "I like when you giggle," an Irish voice says from the back of the cell. You giggle even more, turning to the voice. "I like your accent," you say to the handsome man laying out on a cot. He sits up, running a hand through his hair and studying you.

You bite your lip, and look him over as well. "You're beautiful," he says. You walk to him and stand directly in his line of sight. "You're not so bad yourself," you say in return. He eyes you hungrily but you can see the restraint he's putting on himself.

"What're you in here for?" He asks, laying back on the cot. You giggle. "I sort of blew up the parliament building," you say. He shoots up, a grin coating his features. He claps. "I've been trying to do that for years," he says.

You bow mockingly. He gets up and puts his hands on your waist. "Be my Queen," he says, looking into your eyes with his melted chocolate orbs. A maniacal grin spreads across both of your faces. "Okay,"you whisper.

His grin spreads wider. "Good," he says, "I'm Jim, by the way." Jim sits on the edge of the cot. "(Y/N)," you say. He pulls you onto the edge of the cot.

"You're mine now. I own you," he says, leaning in. "You own me," you say in return, meeting his lips with yours.