#john brackenreid x reader

[falcqns]

i just had an idea for a john brackenreid x reader fic who wants to hear about it

[murdochmysteriesimagines]

Asian Glow Part 2- Julia Ogden, John Brackenreid

Request: Hello I was hoping I could request a part number two for Asian aglow with more John and Julia interactions (they are my favourtite)

A/N: Extra content was removed at it made the story feel bloated, unfortunately including a scene with Murdoch that caused me too much trouble.

__________________________________________

A glass of water being placed on the table in front of you sent out shock waves of pain to your temples. Each a consequence of your hung-over state. A punishment of overindulging from the night before.

Groaning you looked up from the floor, your hung head aching in the process. Slowly you drank from the cup, cautious as if it might crack under the limited pressure. From behind your mother rubbed small circles in your upper back, an effort to ease your suffering while you drunk from the glass. “You don’t need to come to the morgue today if you don’t want to.”

“No, I just need my head to stop pounding first.”

Julia chuckled to herself “I remember my first hangover. Still not my worst hens’ night.”

“A price for stupidity.” You muttered, looking into the cold liquid. You raised your voice to ask a question in between sips of water “How much did I drink anyways?”

The circles on your back stopped. “You don’t,” Julia quickly switch to a question of her own. “How much do you remember from last night y/n.”

You paused for a moment, your mother maneuvering a chair beside you and taking a seat. “John beat me in a game of chess and then you gave me a look for swearing.”

The gathering ended there for you, the true events playing through Julia’s mind like a roll of film. Your drunken star, unfiltered attraction to the Inspector’s eldest son and the hassle you caused on the way back to the hotel before finally crashing for the night. You asked your question again about the evening, to which Julia answered truthfully.

“One?” Your mother nodded; her amusement displayed shamelessly. Letting out a sigh you asked her to fill in what you had forgotten, her attitude changed to a serious tone. She told you cautiously but as expected spared no detail about your interactions. Your face returned to the same shade of red as the night before as the story unfolded, the only solace being to hide it behind your hands while the information was relayed to you.

From down the street you could see Mrs. Brackenreid in the front garden of the house. The dedication the woman possessed regarding her flower beds was unmatched by any other, half past eight may not be early for the common worker but it was for most florists.

You stopped peddling and shifted into a slow glide on the bicycle. You did not trust yourself to go any faster than slightly above jogging distance after the events of last night. A single glass of wine over ten hours ago and your head still ached at every unnecessarily loud noise. Mother protested about your scheme to take your bike to work since you would still squint in direct sun light among other side effects from drinking. Her words alone lacked the power to stop you from sneaking down to the shed and taking your two wheels out onto the busy street. You crossed your fingers that she would be less cross once she realized where you went before the morgue.

“Good morning Mrs. Brackenreid.” You called out once in ear shot. Your voice finally free of slurred vowels and verbs.

“y/n,” she looked up to you at the end of her property, presenting a smile when she made eye contact. “I thought I said you were allowed to call me Margaret.”

“Old habits are a problem of mine.” You stepped off the bicycle and approached the older woman as she got up from her knees.

Naturally you got right to the issue that prompted the excursion to the Brackenreid household. Knowing if Margaret started leading the conversation you would likely be late for work. “I wanted to apologize for last night.”

Margaret responded with a smile, surprisingly uninterested in your drunken antics. “Oh no need to worry about that dear.” You imagined she would be patting your upper arm if her hands were free of soil. “It happens to the best of us. If it wasn’t you then it would have been Thomas overindulging.”

You smiled at her derogatory humour. Finding yourself playing with your hands while trying to find an appropriate comeback. “I lack his Yorkshire tolerance unfortunately.”

“It comes with age y/n, it’s not uncommon for your kind isn’t very good with the bottle.”

You tilted your head, slightly confounded by the meaning of her comment.”

“My kind?”

“Young adults. I myself couldn’t handle anything stronger than wine when I was your age.” Her response lacked hesitation, unfortunately leading into her starting with another one of her no doubt lengthy stories. You were tempted to excuse yourself and postpone her tale for the next informal gathering; however she kept on staggering your retreat.

The front door closing stole your attention away from Margaret. Her eldest son had barely managed to step outside before his eyes took notice of the girl from last night; now standing sober and talking to his mother. Images of you had kept him up late into the night, accompanied by his mothers lecturing, fathers light encouragement and own confused emotions. That girl who occupied his thoughts for the past day noticed him at the door before he could slip back inside and sneak away. An awkward encounter would be unavoidable now.

Your gaze towards John did not go unnoticed by Margaret. She followed your eyes to their destination of her son. “John your going to be late.”

He was in his Constable uniform, helmet in his arm pressed against his chest. You found yourself instinctively biting your lip, although you were unsure if it was anxiety or a continuation of last night; you forced yourself to stop before his mother would see, or John before he stood in a triangle with his mother and friend. “Your father already left for the station.”

“I have enough time mother, no need to worry.” For the first time he looked directly at you, his stern expression given to his mother was not rewarded to you: Eyes immediately softening, a smile emerging from the corners of his mouth. The meeting would have been normal if the events of last night remained free from your minds. The idea of you limp in his arms laughing like a fool made you look away in shame. John meanwhile had the image burned into his retinas to call back to. It was pleasant enough to keep him grinning, but the sight of your face turning a new shade of red made him lose it.

“It’s good to see you y/n.”

“Likewise.” You were unable to meet him in the eye. “I came to apologize for last night, I assumed you would have already left.”

That was technically a lie, the exempted truth was you assumed and hoped John would already be gone. Upon learning the reason for your visit John seemed to share the sentiment. Neither of you fully aware of your relationship or what the next step would be. Margaret clearing her throat stole her son’s attention, unseen to you but a call to action referencing a lengthy one-sided discussion from the previous night. In the pause you pondered Margaret’s actions, suspicious of an alternate motive of hers for keeping you longer than initially planned.

“y/n.” You looked back to John. “We should be going if we don’t want to be late.” You nodded. “Yes, of course.”

John smiled at the prospect of riding your bikes together. Not your first time traveling as a pair but neither of you were willing to reject another opportunity; despite current tensions.

John excused himself momentarily to retrieve his bike, you retreated to the sidewalk to remount your own trusty metal steed. Margaret returned to her mending her flower beds silently, visibly pleased with herself as she removed another weed from a bundle of blooming tulips. You almost risked accusing her of what she was no doubt guilty of but you held your tongue. A shy smile your only offering when she paused her humming to look at you; likely planning at tell her overexaggerated contributions to the inspector when he returned home.

You could have sped off while John was busy out of view, get a head start to work and avoid the conversation you did not want to or plan to have that morning. Wait until the light hurt less to have the inevitable confrontation of emotions. You knew of this possibility but never considered it. Any punishment ���The Doctor’ would bestow on you would be a poor reconstruction of disappointing your friend. “Ready to go?”

John walked his device parallel to yours before stepping onto it, his question lingering for a moment before you nodded. Out of the corner of your eye you could see Margaret pretending to not spy on you two, the dead give away being her hand unknowingly removing the head of a bright flower.

“We will have to race if we want to make it there on time.” You remarked in a sarcastic tone, propping yourself up from the handlebars. The implied humour not lost but rather ignored by John.

“On your mark,” You let out a sigh but copied his pose at the ready to peddle on. “Get set.” You butted in a final time before he would wave the imaginary start flag. “Just not too fast, I promised my mother I wouldn’t crash.”

You earned a genuine laugh from John following your request. A faint hope to yourself that the situation between the two of you was not completely lost. “Sure, I have to tell my mother the same thing every other day.” You returned the favour.

“Go!” He called before stealing the lead by a lengthy meter. True to his word he kept a lower speed that he was capable of in your mock race, giving you time to adapt before you would catch up; your preference then being if you would stay with John or attempt to overtake him. You reminded yourself of the obvious however, you would need to catch up to the Constable before you could consider the next step.

[henry-higgins-is-a-vibe]

Being Thomas Brackenreid’s Younger Sister And Visiting Him Would Include

not my gif

A/N: I really liked this request. Anon, I hope you like it<3

So, you’re probably 20-25 years younger than him.

At some point going to the station house and everyone being on their best behavior because, well you the younger sister of the Inspector.

That’s when you catch the eye of a certain Constable, but I’ll get to that later.

Being the first person John tells about wanting to become an actor.

Of course being so supportive of him and telling him to follow his dreams.

Both boys really looking up to you.

Because come on you’re probably the cool Aunt.

Girls days with Margaret.

GOSSIP WITH MARGARET.

Meeting Julia for the first time and really getting along well with her.

John’s eyes would always light up when he goes to the station house and sees that you’re there.

Probably not being as close with Bobby as you are with John.

Taking the boys out for a fun night in Toronto because you can.

Probably going to a party or something.

Trying to paint with your brother. (you still try even if you’re not artsy).

While Dating George Crabtree:

Doing anything you can to help out with cases.

That’s when you meet Constable Crabtree.

You find him pretty funny (which your brother does not like).

The two of you working together really well.

And this doesn’t go unnoticed by your brother.

Who threatens George by saying “Crabtree I swear if you hurt her she won’t be the only one in pain”.

This does frighten George, but he's still determined to get to know you better.

You eventually find out what your brother said to George and get pretty mad.

But eventually Tom apologizes to you, even if he doesn’t particularly want to.

So, the two of you would end up dating.

And it's great.

[murdochmysteriesimagines]

Darling- John Brackenreid

Request: Please do John Brackenried blurb with him and a aggressively assertive but cute girl getting him on a date who also calls him keeps calling him her darling.

A John Brackenreid imagine, where the reader is female going on a cute romantic date. I don't really know what else to say lol.

A/N: The grammar on the first one confused me, “aggressively assertive” is a contradictory statement so the written personality may not be what was originally intended. This was originally longer but it lessened the quality of the story overall, I might refine it for a potential squeal if one is requested.

__________________________________________

John was seconds from swinging his trenchant when a figure grabbed his left side. Enough force applied to move the Constable several inches but not enough to knock him down; not followed by anymore aggressive actions or indication of further assault. His brief panic ending when he recognized the lively face and ever present smile. “Hello John.”

You found it oddly adorable how John stumbled at your halfhearted pounce onto him. How his eyes lulled the second he stared back at you. Softening before going neutral and brows folding to signal annoyance at you. It was unusual how most topics or actions that would bring about sensations of guilt or discomfort in others arouse excitement in yourself. To another girl: Brackenried’s disapproval would chase them away, to you however, it made you tighten your arm linked through his own. “Hello John.”

“Hello y/n.” His voice was monotone, matching the expression plastered on his face. Counter to his, yours remained up beat and lively as expected from your shared years in school. “It’s been awhile John.”

“It’s been two weeks y/n.”

“Nice to know you’ve been keeping track of the time.” You gave his hand a squeeze. “I missed you too.” He attempted to withdraw his arm as you walked down the sidewalk in unison. On the third tug you relented and allowed his appendage freedom once again. It would not be beneficial for you to get John in trouble while he was doing his rounds. “Are you going to demand I walk you back to your university campus again?”

“Don’t act like you didn’t like it the first time John.” You huffed, positioning your book bag in front if you for easier access to its contents. “But thank you for volunteering again.”

John hid his annoyance at your word games. He knew from years of experience there was no point in resisting you on the mundane things. You always knew how to manipulate the situation to your own favour; thankfully this power was used for good and only came across as mildly irritating to those who knew they were in fact being toyed with. “I come bearing gifts this time John.”

The constable retorted quickly, “You mean to say your presence isn’t enough for once.” A smirk appeared and retreated as quickly as it arrived.

“Well consider this another present then. More time to spend with yours truly this Friday.” You produced two tickets from the bag and waved them in front of John, as if he was a starved dog viewing cooked meat once again. “I remember the Tragedy Of Julius Caesar is a favourite of yours.”

John was indeed interested in your offering, even if it did come at the price of being in your company for several hours. He could not decide if that would be a positive or negative experience overall however. “Can you be trusted around that play y/n?”

You couldn’t help but laugh aloud at the memory he referenced. “I won’t be preforming so we should be fine. But that doesn’t mean I can’t protect my big, strong husband.”

You snuck your arm back through his in the last half of the sentence while you taunted him. Most students were amused to see the wife of Caesar jump onto Brutus’ back from off stage, well worth the detention you received from your arts teacher. “I was already stabbed when you jumped onto Mackenzie y/n.”

“I promise to be faster next time. So I can pick you up after I-” “y/n.” John retreated his arm once again, you did not resist or try to force him to stay linked physically. “I work on Fridays, I told you this already.”

You smiled at him remembering the contents of your last walk back to your school. As planned he unknowingly played himself to your benefit. You placed the tickets back into your bag before pulling out a identical pair for the following day. “It’s a good thing those were a gift for my parents then. They’re going down to Niagara for their wedding anniversary and I want to give it to them before they leave. I do however, remember you telling me the days you have Saturdays off.”

John bit the tip of his tongue in frustration. An old excuse not to see a girl had inadvertently led to her finding a loophole, now coupled with a more tempting activity. He knew he was a fool to think you would sit idle with that sliver of information.

“How about you meet me at the theater on Saturday and we can continue this conversation. If you don’t want to pick me up that is.” You slipped one of the tickets into the belt around his blue tunic, using the opportunity to make contact with John’s hand yet again, this time met without protest. He neglected to respond to your proposal in due time, the silhouette of the university became visible and you would have to excuse yourself. “At least think about it my darling.”

That final word got a reaction from John. Only his mother would have addressed him as such, that term being used almost exclusively for the fairer sex. “Darling?”

You perked at his question, slowly distancing yourself from him and heading towards your school. Instantly using his own words and phrasing to your own benefit. “Yes, Darling?”

A handful of passing students would look on temporarily at the police officer stood opposite to a smug looking girl before moving on. Her grin curling to an unnatural size in amusement while the constable stood dumbfounded, silent.

“I’ll see you soon.” You turned around to follow the direction of the crowd, yet to take a step however. Over your shoulder you saw a slight smile begin to form, it would be a gamble to declare if it was the play or your presence that Saturday that caused the happiness. You however would wager it was the memory of Calpurnia humorously running to his rescue many years ago that brought up the joyful look. You would say a final goodbye to him before walking off to indulge through more class. Hoping that he would accept your invitation on the weekend.

“My Darling.”

[murdochmysteriesimagines]

be bloody, or be nothing worth- John Brackenreid

Request: Can John be in love with his friend and he finally confesses to her. And can she be a actress too

A/N: This went through a few rewrites and I can confidently say this is the best version. I hope it was worth the wait. A link has been provided for the soliloquy used in this story.

Hamlet Act 4 Scene 4

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“You look nervous.”

“I am!” You snap back at John who recoils at the aggression. Immediately you feel a pain of guilt for the comment, sometimes this play was becoming too much.

“It’s just a audition y/n, you’ve done and passed hundreds before.” He sighed “This isn’t even your first time auditioning for Shakespeare’s Hamlet.”

You stopped pacing around the back stage when he said this. It was not new information but a simple reminder at times like this was often helpful. He was almost always like this; calm and collected while you were the embodiment of paranoia. You went up and hugged him, the worry inside of you seemed to be crushed out in his embrace.

“You think I can be Ophelia again?”

“You’ll be fine y/n.” One final squeeze and he reluctantly lets go, “This is more of a formality anyway. How many times have you been casted by these people in one of their plays?”

You both knew the answer to the question, John had attended each of your performances that year and only gave encouragement. Your name is called from the audience and you head out onto the stage with a final smile to and from John. Before you walk out to greet the casting directors John quickly asks a final question before you started to walk out onto the stage. “What performance are you doing anyway?”

“I’m doing Hamlet’s final soliloquy, the one were he promises to take revenge on the King.” John nods with a grin; you couldn’t deciside between Hamlet’s final or first grand speech. The loving friend calls out well wishes as you walked onto centre stage and began to act after stating your name and desired role to the familiar faces in the audience. With John watching from the side you felt invincible on the stage.

John quietly watched you from the side stage as you began. The soliloquy was not for your desired character but John knew you could pull it off; he heard fragments as you practiced but this would be the first time he would hear the complete version.

“How all occasions do inform against me,

And spur my dull revenge! What is a man,

If his chief good and market of his time

Be but to sleep and feed? a beast, no more.

Sure, he that made us with such large discourse,

Looking before and after, gave us not

That capability and god-like reason

To fust in us unused.”

“She does make a good point,” John said to himself. It is thoughts and desires beyond survival that makes us human. Everyone has a purpose in their life that acts as a driving motive for all their actions. Narrowly a day would pass that you wouldn’t be found lost in work or practice; the drive for constant improvement. He always respected that about you, even when it unfortunilty cut into the time he desperately wanted to spend by your side.

“Now, whether it be

Bestial oblivion, or some craven scruple

Of thinking too precisely on the event,

A thought which, quarter'd, hath but one part wisdom

And ever three parts coward, I do not know

Why yet I live to say 'This thing's to do;'

Since I have cause and will and strength and means

To do it.”

It was little moments like this that John admired you for. You lacked any semblance of fear or cowardice, always willing to speak your mind despite the repercussions. Privately you were an inspiration to John in that regard; much like the character of Hamlet he too could be inactive on pressing matters. Especially ones regarding yourself.

“Examples gross as earth exhort me:

Witness this army of such mass and charge

Led by a delicate and tender prince,

Whose spirit with divine ambition puff'd

Makes mouths at the invisible event,

Exposing what is mortal and unsure

To all that fortune, death and danger dare,

Even for an egg-shell. Rightly to be great

Is not to stir without great argument,

But greatly to find quarrel in a straw

When honour's at the stake.”

John watched you gesture your arms to the side in rhythm with the speech. Almost like a dance to match the symphony of words passing your lips. Those same lips John thoughts often lingered on for lengthy periods of time. Only a single part of a face unparalleled by any other. How he would often wish to confess his true feelings for you but could rarely find the courage. Unable to find the reason while the future of your relationship was at the stakes.

“How stand I then,

That have a father kill'd, a mother stain'd,

Excitements of my reason and my blood,

And let all sleep, while, to my shame, I see

The imminent death of twenty thousand men,

That, for a fantasy and trick of fame,

Go to their graves like beds, fight for a plot

Whereon the numbers cannot try the cause,

Which is not tomb enough and continent

To hide the slain?”

Again John is sent into a flurry of thoughts. Like Hamlet he has reason to act, he has the opportunity to spill his heart, but all is left idle. Fears of losing a friend hold him back while you take action for minuscule reasons at the very spirit of success. Another beloved trait which he loved you for.

“O, from this time forth,

My thoughts be bloody, or be nothing worth!”

“If my thoughts are not about taking action then they are worthless.” No longer could John remain inactive while lacking means to hold back. If he truly wanted a romantic relationship then he would have to make a move, tackle his problems head on rather than letting them linger. No longer did John want to wait, now was the time for action.

The casting directors applaud your performance as you take a well deserved bow. Words are exchanged before you are dismissed from the stage, the desired role of Ophelia confirmed to now belong to you. Ecstatic you walk off stage back into the company of your Constable friend.

Without a second thought or moment of hesitation you leap into his arms with a thrilled cheer. Any remaining fear from earlier had vanished and been replaced with excitement in the bone crushing hug John has put you in. He barely had the opportunity to interject a sentence in between your joy.

“y/n I need to tell you something."

Still locking in his arms you look up at him, comfortablely resting against his chest with faces only inches apart. “What is it?”

For a moment the world freezes. Locked in a tight squeeze the two of you can only concentrate on each others faces; yourself getting lost in his eyes while John can’t tear them off your slightly ajar lips. “We’ve been friends for years now and...” He wants to stop, to pull back from this potentially dangerous path. However if his thoughts are not of blood, not of action, then they worthless.

“...and I would like to be more than that.” Before John has a chance to wonder if he was alone with these emotions or if his timing was wrong you answer his question with a kiss. Pressing the same lips that John savours against his he waste no time in kissing back, moving his hand from your upper back to cup your cheek while one of your own explores the trimmed hair on the back of his head. Stretching slightly to reach johns height you simultaneously try to pull him closer with your hand, deeper into the kiss.

If John had any lingering fears they did not show, instead he embraced the moment he created for himself. A beautiful girl in his arms due to action instead of idle thought. Bloody thoughts that proved their worth.

[murdochmysteriesimagines]

Asian Glow- William Murdoch, Julia Ogden, John Brackenreid

Request(s): I loved your last imagine so so so much, I can only thank you for it. Just such a nice idea that Jilliam would have a daughter from China, Can you do a sequel to it please. If it’s not to much trouble. Some more sweet fluff

I want a thing where Jon and a female reader get drunk and confess she likes him

A/N: I decided to combine these two requests as they both worked together but I did not sacrifice one for the other. This was rewritten once and I prefer this version.

This can be seen as a spiritual successor to 庆典 (celebration).

__________________________________________

You muttered a swear under your breath as John took your queen and forced you into check mate. A repeated action for the third time that night. As an immediate response Julia, your mother, clears her throat. A ‘watch your language’ look to follow.

Apologizing you turn back to John who sits beside his father on the opposite couch while your family occupies the other. His mother and little brother scurry around the kitchen preparing dinner out of sight. The adults enteriatin themselves through conversation while their children play chess beside them.

A quarter of the way into your next game with John his father asks you a question, “What about you y/n?” You stutter for a moment, admittidly you were giving your attention onto John more than the proper adults next to you.

“Pardon?”

“The parade last week, how was it?”

You smile at the memory: leaning into your fathers side during the Chinese New Year festival flashed through your mind.

“It was fun. I’m glad we finally got a chance to go.” You tell with modest enthusiasm, “You should come with us next year.”

Brackenried shakes his head slightly. “I don’t think Chinatown is quite our style, but thank you.” As he finishes Mrs Brackenried comes into the sitting room announcing dinner to be ready.

Before standing John steals your attention. “Ignore him. I’ll go with if you want.” You can’t stop yourself from smiling at his gentalmanly offer. “Thank you John.”

“Wine y/n?” Mrs Brackenried offers holding the subject bottle in her hand. You stop talking with your father sitting next to you and stare at her for a second. You were not one to drink; being a stranger to alcohol apart from a small sherry with your mother on a rare occasion. Before you can answer your mother next to your father answers on your behalf.

Immediately a red liquor fills the glass before you. A toast is proposed and acted out between the two families. “To health,” Mr Brackenried raised his glass, everyone else following suit and echoed before taking a drink. You nearly choked on the liquid burned the back of your throat, the bitter taste sticking to your tongue like a unwanted disease.

Trying to ignore it you ate your dinner, talking with John across from you as the evening progresses.

The last of the wine slid down your throat, smooth and surprisingly appealing this time. The evening was coming to a close as everyone gradually finished their meals. You and John conversed while the proper adults talked among each other; he was the first to notice the gradual effect the alcohol had on you.

“Are you sure you’re alright y/n?” He asked as you finished the last of red liquid.

You let out a series of giggles before answering, unsure why the question was so humerious.

“Of c-course. Why wouldn’t I be fine?”

The laughing escalated until the entire table had taken notice of your drunken appearance. Thomas immediately found amusement in your reddened face and almost idiotic laughter. The groups expressions fixate in a state of bewilderment or entertainment.

“What’s wrong?” You grab onto your fathers forearm in a blind panic, desperate for an answer. In an unintentionally loud whisper you plead with the detective. “Did I do something bad?”

Gently Murdoch guides you into a standing position. You lean against him as your legs suddenly seem to be untrustworthy. “Everything is fine y/n. I just think we should be heading home now.”

Your giggling resumes at a low volume at the news. Julia starts to apologize on your behalf but any words she said are mute to you. Instead your focus keeps going towards the handsome John on the other side of the table. You wish he was holding you instead of your father, not that you didn’t love your dad but John was much more attractive. If he was holding you right now you would know exactly why your legs weren’t working.

After calling out for John he cautiously comes around the table to your side. With William distracted by your mother for a brief moment your able to break free from and relocate into John’s arms. Luckily he is able to support you without notice and you find yourself in his strong grip. Your giggling continues as your own arms hug tightly around the handsome friend and cuddle into his chest.

Unsurprisingly your actions were far from discrete as everyone present has noticed the sudden affection. The Inspector starts laughing as his son fails to hide a blush brought on by his friend clinging to his chest.

Wordlessly Murdoch pulls you off of John and out of the room to the protests of his drunken daughter, craving for more time in the company of one of his constables. Meanwhile his wife continues to apologize for the sudden departure before leaving, but not without giving John a look of reassurance regarding her daughter.

You swung around in your fathers arms as Julia tried to open the hotel door with her key. They both hoped you would retire in the carriage ride but you managed to stay awake with incoherent rambles and endless giggles. You continued to move around in Williams gentle but firm grip despite your legs seemingly unable to support your weight. Julia opened the door and your father led you inside, spontaneously your babbling continues, interrupting whatever conversation your parents were already having.

“Thank you!” You blurt out as Murdoch attempts to guide you around the furniture and invisible objects you trip over.

“Thank us for what?” Julia follows close behind as you continue to rant in a confused manner.

“For t-taking care of me for all these years.” Murdoch manages to get you into your bedroom, yourself still unaware of what is going on as you continue talking.

“You could have found any other kid out there. But you picked me out of... hundereds maybe, hundreds of kids.” In your current state you don’t realize the unnecessary exaggeration but continue regardless. “Anyone of them could have been yours but you two went for me. I just want to say thank you.”

By now your father had placed you in bed, Julia waits in the doorway quietly listening. Once William manages to get you under the blanket he responds. You wearily look up at him as the bed and alcohol start to pull you under.

“You’re our daughter y/n, you don’t need to thank us.”

“But I do, you both picked me over anyone else.” You almost weep out the words.

William smiles to himself, you don’t see it but Julia shares in his delight at a distant memory. “Don’t you remember the story of when we first met you y/n?” Your father asks, you shake your head in denial. They have told you the events several times over years but unsurprisingly it escaped your memory.

“You were a little older than two when you wandered up to us and grabbed onto my trouser leg.” A glow comes over his face as he remembers. “We were already looking to adopt and you seemed to take a shine to us from across the room.” You share in the smiles going around the room as you sink further into the mattress.

“Your mother picked you up and then you introduced yourself as best you could, by clinging onto her and refusing to let go. The second anyone tried to take you away you would cry until they stopped.”

“We walked out of the orphanage with you by the end of the week.” Julia finishes the story for her husband.

“Well I guess I made the right choice.” You giggle slightly at your own joke before finally subcoming to the irresistible allure of slumber that warmly welcomed you.

[murdochmysteriesimagines]

Security- John Brackenreid

Request: John's first day of patrol and he just strolls you through Toronto to the university, where you need to go?

Oh, dear, yes! I'm sorry for not being specific! Yes, please, John walking the reader (a girl) to her university she goes to. Thank you :D (p.s. Please make it as cute as you'd like)

A/N: John in the show is roughly 16 but I decided to write him as roughly 18. The reader is too this age.

______________________________________

You let out a sigh of relief when the constable pulled your purse from behind the desk. It had been stolen from you last night while you were at the library studying. When you noticed the robbery you resolved to report it to the nearest police station, to your surprise the crime had already been solved.

You thanked the officer only for him to deny it. “Don’t thank me, I’m not the one who caught the man.” He then calls out to the other part of the station, calling due the responsible man to come forward.

A handsome man answered that call, young compared to the others around him;likely the same age as you.

“Everything alright George?” He questions the man behind the desk. “This lady wants to talk with you.” He gestures to you.

This is the first time he looks directly at you. Immediately soft eyes meet yours as a charming attitude greets you with an outstretched hand.

“John Brackenried. I assume that belongs to you.” He points to the purse in your other hand.

For a brief moment you hesitate, lost in the natural charm of his introduction. “Uh, yes. I just wanted to thank you for finding it.” You hope he didn’t notice the shake in your words.

“It’s my job, don’t worry. I found the theif rummaging through it in an ally. He confessed rather quickly once I put cuffs on him.” John smiles proudly to himself. Over your sholder George gestures at John to continue on, seeing his obvious attraction to you. John slightly nods at his colleague, making it look like a normal movement so you don’t he’s getting advice.

“He said that he stole from a fellow student at his university.” You confirm your too a student. John briefly pauses before asking you cautiously. “I need to inform the headmaster about his arrest. I could walk you to class if you would like.”

“I would like that.” You don’t have a lecture for a few hours but don’t wa t to leave the constables side just yet.

After he retrieves his helmet he leads you into the busy streets of Toronto; not before giving a quick thumbs up to George which you didn’t see. At first your both quiet, it’s normal considering your still strangers with a mutual attraction to each other. Thankfully John quickly broke the ice when he asked about your schooling. You didn’t know where exactly to start; it was too vast a subject to easily define. Naturally you focused on your studies and school before shifting the conversation to him.

“What about you John? What made you want to become a police officer?”

“It’s the most honourable job I know.” He responds “My father is the Inspector at my station, he’s been a inspiration for me since I was little.”

“I bet it’s nice, having your dad double as your boss.”

“You have no idea. I think he uses it as an excuse to be hard on me sometimes.” John seems slightly frustrated with this confession.

“Well look on the bright side.” You chip in.

“What’s that?”

“He thinks you’re strong enough to take it.” Turning to his handsome figure you jingle your purse as added proof “Clearly you are.”

John raises an eyebrow at the comment. “Is that why I’m here? In case someone tries to rob you again.”

You laugh, bringing a shine to Johns face. “The uniform is a bonus, but I’m much more interested in the man who wears it.”

This pattern of flirting and story telling continues until you the buildings of your university are in sight, signalling you and John will soon have to separate. Silently you both continue walking side by side until you approach the building that houses your lecture.

“I must ask you John. Did you have to speak with the headmaster in person or did you just want an excuse to walk with me?”

John grinning reveals his guilt as a hand makes a limited attempt to cover it. “Well you did just lose your purse, I wanted to make sure it arrived safely, along with it’s pretty owner.”

It’s your turn to smile, but rather as a result of a warm blush. “Well I’m thankful for the extra security. But perhaps next time you won’t have to be my body guard.”

“I would like that. It would give us a chance to continue our conversation.”

“I get out from my study group at five. We can meet back here if you want.”

“Perfect.”