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princessaxoxo · 7 months

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Strangers to Lovers Part 5

Sherlock x reader

Summary: Being Enola’s sitter was an adventure, but not as much as falling for her brother, Sherlock.

Warnings: 18+ Only, NSFW, little angst, fluff, unprotected sex (p in v), oral (f receiving), pet names, fingering, breeding kink, vulgar language

Word Count: 3k+

After escorting you home, Sherlock strolled back to his loft. He noticed the disarray from the previous night as soon as he stepped inside. He began by cleaning the dishes from supper in his kitchen. After that, he began working on his table and counter. He was certain that your presence was the only reason he overlooked the mess. Normally, by now, his apartment would be pristine.

His linens and himself both still carried your scent. Which made him want to stay in his current clothes and avoid taking a bath, even though he knew he should because he was drenched from the pleasures of sex you two shared this morning. All he could think about was you while taking his bath, which was anything but soothing.

Following your return home, you showered and changed into a new outfit. Miranda then asked if you were ready for lunch, to which you said yes. You two rode in a carriage to the nearby café. Sipping on a cup of tea, she sat in front of you.

"I haven't heard from you," she stated bluntly. “Have you considered my advice?” You understood why she had invited you to go to lunch with her. "Yes, I did." She looked at you and asked, "Tell me what happened."

You paused briefly before continuing, "He took me on a date; it was eventful."

"Eventful? "How?" she asked. “The day was going really well. It was lunch at a stunning vineyard; he worked so hard on it. Sadly, though, the day ended poorly.” She gave you a mournful expression. "Have you two seen one another since then?" You nodded in response after taking a drink of your tea.

"I went to see him the following morning. I assured him I would be happy to accompany him if he decided to leave again.” The memory of last night made you smile, but Miranda cut you off. “From what you just told me, it seems that you were the only one to compromise your life to be with him.” You gave me a headshake. "Oh no." It was even foolish of her to say such, and you laughed at her statement.

"I must admit that ever since we were young children, you have expressed your desire to start a family in this very location—where you were raised." She gave you a shrug of her shoulders. "But things have changed apparently," she said, stopping you before you could respond. You received a patronizing look from her.

Following your departure from the café, you strolled arm-in-arm across the town square while she updated you on the drama that had transpired since your last conversation and meeting. "The maid and her husband were having an affair." She described the events, saying, "And the wife was having an affair with the local paper boy."

"How are you certain that this is accurate? Who is the originator? "I heard the maids talking, and they know everything," she said, laughing at your question. You chuckled heartily and shook your head.

"I'm staying, even though I know this was just meant to be a quick trip." What she said shocked you. The place she recently resided, she adored. "Plus, I met someone." The thought of him made Miranda grin. "All right, I'd be happy to have you here. I don't have to fake liking you, at least." Your comment made you both laugh.

She seemed to know practically every detail about you and Sherlock, so you were curious to find out more about her mystery man. “Tell me about the man you recently met, Miranda.”

Her eyes glowed as she spoke about him. She filled you in on every little detail, considering how she was smitten with him. "And what's his name?" She answered, "Benedict," like a schoolgirl. You couldn't judge her based solely on her behavior. With Sherlock, you reacted the same way.

You pondered what she said earlier at lunch for the remainder of the day that you were with her. Were you the only one that comprised? You did, after all, promise to go with him when he left, and he never promised to stay. Of course, you fell in love with a man who traveled constantly, so you didn't expect him to. No, you wouldn't take it too seriously or think about it any longer since you really want the two of you to be together. Ultimately, the two of you were attracted to one another like a moth to a flame.

"What are you thinking about?" You gave Miranda a quick glance.

You answered her with, "What?"

"You haven't really been here since tea this afternoon. Did I say something wrong?” You considered giving her a scowl and responding, "Yes, you opened your big, fat mouth and put in your opinion where it didn't belong." However, you choose to simply respond that you're tired, offering no explanation for your strange behavior.

People began to leave the town square as the sun began to set. You said, "We ought to head home." Miranda agreed. Once inside the carriage, the two of you made your way back to your home. The carriage's coachman assisted you in getting out. "Please take Ms. Hampton home and see to it that she gets there safely." You wished your cousin a restful night.

The next morning, you heard an individual at your door. You assumed that perhaps Sherlock had stayed up all night again and was stopping by. However, the person you least expected was standing there when you opened the door. Mycroft.

For a little while, you stammered, and it was evident that this annoyed him. But you managed to speak again, saying, "Mycroft, it's good to see you. How may I help you?" He smiled, but his lips were tight. "May I enter? I must speak with you." Considering that you didn't trust him, you weren't sure whether to let him in. "I have something to say you won't want to miss." His tone became solemn. "All right," you said as you stepped to the side and opened the door to let him in.

Mycroft and you both entered your living space. You asked him, "What is it that's so important?" His gaze scanned the area, unimpressed. “Sherlock was notified of a case in Paris this morning. And he accepted it.” Mycroft at last caught your gaze. "Meaning," you interrupted him before he could say anything more. "I am aware of its meaning." As Mycroft remained there, trying to make you believe that Sherlock would depart, your chest constricted, and you became aware that you were getting red in the face. "If Sherlock were to depart again, we have put plans in place." You responded to Mycroft with firmness.

"Yes, he informed me of the discussion you two had. To be with him, you are giving up your life and your desires. I can guarantee you that this is the only time he will be with you while he is away handling cases." He used his cane to point to you. "You'll only get to spend time with him when he's not on a case, which is not often. And both of us are aware of that." He persisted in his insulting remarks: "It seems unfair, doesn't it?" You moved away from him as he approached you because you didn't want to be anywhere close to him. "You are giving up the life you want, and Sherlock gets to keep the life he chooses."

It hurt to know that there was some truth to what he said. The need to avoid appearing weak in front of Mycroft forced you to repress the need to cry. You've had enough of him being in your life, and you needed him to leave. All you wanted to do was hurry to see Sherlock and ask him about this.

"Mycroft," he interrupted you as he peered down at his pocket watch. "I must go; enjoy the rest of your day, y/n." He gave you a tip of the hat and walked away.

You hastily grabbed your coat and summoned the carriage.

The night before

Mycroft, his brother, was babbling while Sherlock sat smoking a pipe. "I'm aware of a Parisian case. I wanted to make sure you knew about it.” He glanced at his brother, saying, "It's a big one." For a while, Sherlock remained silent. "Are you planning to leave?" Mycroft asked.

Sherlock sighed, unsure of how to respond. He would have to discuss it with you before deciding. The only response he offered Mycroft was, "I'll think about it." He observed his brother's face taking on what appeared to be a calculating expression as he kept smoking his pipe. However, he must have been mistaken, so he shrugged it off and enjoyed the rest of the evening.

Present Day

"Open up!" you yelled, and Sherlock heard it. "Open up now, Sherlock!" He hastily opened his door upon realizing it was you shouting. The door opened, and you hurried inside. "Is what Mycroft told me accurate? that you agreed to take up a case in Paris?" His eyes were running around her face. She wasn’t giving him time to respond. “He came by and started just saying horrible things," and your voice cracked.

“Calm down, baby." Kindly, Sherlock pleads with you. It seemed impossible for you to catch your breath. But you felt yourself relax when he put his hands on your face, and you raised your head to look at him. Everything seemed better when he touched you. With your eyes closed, you took a deep breath, let it out, and looked to face him again.

"A case in Paris was brought to my attention. I didn't say I would accept it. To be honest, I said nothing to Mycroft about my intention to go." You gave a head nod.

"What he was saying to me, I wish you could have heard. I immediately came here after he left. What he said might actually come true, I fear." Sherlock looked at you with concern.

"My dear, what did he say to you?"

"That bringing me along would not be significant. Since I would be alone and you would be too preoccupied trying to solve your numerous cases, I was afraid because I thought there might be truth to that."

Irritated, Sherlock closed his eyes and wiped his face with his palms. He exclaimed, "Fuck's sake."

"Good morning, Sherlock," Mycroft boldly strolled in and once more tipped his hat to you. You gave me an eye roll. "Y/N, I apologize for asking you for this, my dear. However, kindly head home. I'll stop by and visit you later. I must speak with my brother alone right now."

Sherlock was glaring daggers at Mycroft; he would be dead, for sure, if looks could kill. You wanted to decline and remain. However, you were aware that it was the right choice to leave. The three of you felt suffocated by the thick air in the room. You approached Sherlock; his gaze never left Mycroft. You kissed Sherlock on the forehead, averted his brothers' gaze, and turned to walk out of Sherlock's door.

"It was completely inappropriate for you to visit her home!" Sherlock raged at his older brother. "I would kill you now if you weren't my brother. And I'm still debating whether or not to." He spat angrily at Mycroft, causing his hair to fall in front of his face.

Mycroft had a bored expression. "I was honest with her at least, while you would have avoided the situation."

"You were lying, and I had no intention of leaving. Even before talking to her, I had already made up my mind."

"Are you really sacrificing your career for a woman?" Mycroft mocked. "You'll be sorry."

Sherlock approached his sibling and stood near his face. "I don't require your advice on what I'll regret. In this life, she is the one thing I can be certain of. My future exists with her. You can't mess with my life, and I won't tolerate it. Our life. I'm going to marry her and start a family with her. Thus, this is what you are going to do. After gathering your possessions, you're going to depart. I wish to never see your face again."

Mycroft swallowed, his brother suddenly frightening him. He tipped his hat and walked out, his dignity unharmed. No longer to be seen.

You asked Sherlock, "What happened?" You witnessed the look on his face upon his arrival. In addition to being upset, he was furious.

"Mycroft will no longer cause us any trouble, my dear. I took care to ensure it."

“But I'm the reason you're losing your brother. That bothers me so much for you.”

“Are you kidding me?” With a gentle expression, he took both of your hands in his. "I love you, and I also promise not to allow anyone to stand in the way of our shared future. Not to mention the harm he caused you. Whether it was expressed verbally or not is irrelevant."

He gave your hands a kiss.

"Before I had the chance to speak with you, I had already made up my mind. I have no intention of leaving; I'm not interested in taking on any more mysteries. I want nothing more than to be with you. to get married and start a small family together. That's what I want."

"I love you, Sherlock, and my heart will always belong to you." You two shared a long, passionate kiss. He kissed his way down your cheek and into your neck, lowering the straps of your nightgown.

"May I remove your nightgown?" he said in a hushed voice.

"Yes, do it, please."

His hands reached the bottom and pulled it over your head. Exposing your body to him, the breeze in your home hits your nipples, making them harden. “Take off your clothes, baby," you told him.

You watched him undress himself, making your heartbeat increase.

He started to climb on top of you as you reclined on your bed. His kisses were incredibly tender and sweet. This kiss was unlike the others, as you hummed into his. His curly hair is intertwined in your hands.

His left hand followed your bare body to meet your moist center. He started rubbing your clit in circles, and you mewled out. His fingers slowly slid downward, inserting one digit at a time, then adding another. His fingers began to move diligently inside of you.

Your face was tilted upward to meet his gaze. "My love, open your eyes. When you come on my fingers, I want to see your face."

It was difficult to keep your eyes open and focused on his face as his fingers grew faster. You felt yourself beginning to grind against his fingertips. He started rubbing your clit in circles once again. You clenched around his fingers as he massaged your clit, his fingers darting in and out of you so quickly. You opened your eyes again at his voice. "Let me see those pretty eyes of yours." You hadn't realized you had closed them.

You moaned louder at the feeling of you coming around his fingers.

His mouth began to flick and suck at your clit shortly after his fingers stopped working. You let out an audible "Oh my god." His locks were tugged by your fingertips. You could feel his groaning against your pussy resonate through you.

As you observed him, his gaze met yours.

You leaned forward and pulled him back over you by grabbing his face. He took hold of his cock's base and ran it through your creases, soaking it in your delicious moisture. The tip of his cock tickled your eagerly anticipated hole. A deep groan filled his chest.

"Oh, baby, you were made perfectly for me," he said as he slowly moved in and out of you.

He moved at a steady, leisurely pace rather than accelerating his movements. Sherlock peered down at the spot where you two met and saw himself repeatedly entering you. Once more feeling up your body, he reached for your breasts. He started to tease your nipples. "Please, Sherlock, go faster."

He leaned in, planted a kiss on your cheek, and then leaned back. "I simply can't say no to you."

His hips snapped forward violently in an instant. In an attempt to balance himself, he reached for the bed frame with his arm. He became ferocious as he raced inside of you, seeing your breasts bounce in his view. "Oh my gosh, sweetheart," you moaned.

His gaze swept across yours. "I'm going to put myself within this belly. I'm going to get you nice and pregnant with our babies."

"Yes, baby." You rolled your eyes to the back of your head.

Feeling his cock move inside of you with each stroke as he put his hand on your lower abdomen. "Ah!" you whimpered. "I'm going to come."

"I love you, shit. You don't realize how stunning you appear at this moment, God."

The way he was making you feel, you were at a loss for words. "I can feel you coming," he said, feeling the walls press him. I want you to cover my cock."

He again massaged your clit with a downward motion of his hand. “I’m coming, baby. Yes!" You then drenched him in your juices. He yelled, "Fuck," as his come flooded your walls from the inside.

He looked up at you and kissed your body, stopping at your tummy. He grinned and said to you, "Soon." And while he lay next to you, you laughed heartily at him. He wrapped his arm over you, drawing you closer to his toasty body, which you loved. You placed your head on his chest and also covered his chest with your arm.

He tilted your head upward to look at him. “Baby, I want you to know that I’m never going to leave you again. I promise.” He said as he grabbed your cheeks together and kissed you. Afterward, you both fell asleep in each other's arms.

Tag list: @chloe92 @juliaorpll78 @nighttimestan

#henry cavill #first post #henry cavill smut #smutty #henry cavill x reader #fluff #henry cavill fanfic #sherlock holmes #henry cavill sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x you #enola and sherlock #sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes smut #sherlock fanfic #henry cavill romance #Sherlock holmes romance #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill characters

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dathen · 6 months

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Sherlock Holmes adaptions that include his aversion to romance are already queer actually

#sherlock holmes #acd holmes #if i see one more ‘make it actually queer by adding romance’#esp with ‘stop being cowards’#I start stabbing

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strawberrywinter4 · 15 days

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Summary: Recently retired police officer, John Watson, stumbles upon an odd man named Sherlock Holmes when traveling by train on his way home. He concludes the detective is insane after having only one conversation with him, but can't help but be intrigued. Ignoring John's hesitance, Sherlock brings him along on an exciting case. Through this adventure, Sherlock doesn't bother to hide his palpable obsession with John while John tries to hide his growing feelings. What will happen when they both break, following their desires?

Relationship: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson

Tags: Case Fic, Possessive Sherlock Holmes, Obsessive Behavior, Sherlock Holmes is a Bit Not Good, Takes place by the bay in Maine, American!John, Ocean, Small Towns, Alternative Universe-Small Town, Sherlock Holmes loves John Watson, John Watson is oblivious, BAMF John Watson, BAMF Sherlock Holmes, Eventual Happy Ending, Explicit Sexual Content, Love Confessions, Kissing, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Read chapter 1 here.

Spotify Playlist here.

I just made a little something…can’t wait to see where it goes! <3

Tags: @a-victorian-girl @whatnext2020 @totallysilvergirl @ninasnakie @thegildedbee @whodwantmeasaflatmate @with-a-ghost-mr-holmes @sherlocknjohn221b @jawnn-watson @blogstandbygo @lisbeth-kk @holmesianlove @7-percent @itsonlytext @chinike @peanitbear @mary-johnlocked @bakerstreetbe @curlyjohnlock @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @ceceliajupe @ghostofnuggetspast @dw91165 @jolieblack @cortinita @gwendelaneyisjohnlocked

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livesinfantasyland · 7 days

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Love blooms in Heeramandi...The Diamond Market

Sherlock Holmes x Tawaif (Courtesan) Reader

More Mood Boards

#sherlock homes #sherlock holmes moodboard #sherlock holmes x y/n #sherlock holmes x you #netflix #heeramandi #henry cavill #diamond bazaar #Spotify #courtesan #sherlock holmes x reader #desi! reader #desi tumblr #Sherlock holmes x Tawaif reader #Sherlock holmes x courtesan reader #vintage romance #netflix india

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michaelnotholden · 7 months

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Me when ppl say Sherlock is anything but aroace (he’s canon aroace yet ppl ignore that)

#he literally said he doesn’t do romance.#y’all are so quick to denying aroace rep #Sherlock Holmes #bbc sherlock holmes #Sherlock is aroace!!!#michael holden #solitaire #solitaire alice oseman #osemanverse #aroace #aromantic #asexual

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the-bar-sinister · 18 days

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Genuinely believe that solving a mystery together is the most romantic thing that you can do with your partner.

Mystery solving creates lasting relationships.

#shipping #ship dynamics #romance #self ship #ace attorney #x files #sherlock holmes

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romancedream · 4 months

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Two beautiful quotes from jane Austen's books for victoriansherlolly 🔥

#sherlock ship #victorian sherlolly #sherlolly #molly x sherlock #molly hooper #sherlock holmes #sherlock #regency romance #jane austen #victorian #benedict cumberbatch #louise brealey

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somewhere-south-of-neutral · 7 months

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If I had a nickel for every time Steven Moffat gave a historically aroace male character from a legacy property a female love interest because he believes that, quote, "There would be no tension in [an aroace lead], no fun in that," despite the fact that even when he writes them those romances are the least interesting parts of the character, I would have two nickels, which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice.

#doctor who #sherlock #sherlock holmes #steven moffat #aphobia #arophobia #asexuality #aromanticism #aroace #I actually genuinely love River as a character but with the hindsight of Sherlock the stupid romance really is his mo #I would argue that even with River she is at her least interesting when she's pining after the doctor #honestly I actually like the Moffat era more than the RTD era #then again the Doctor-Rose romance was arguably more egregious than the Doctor-River romance #and the worst parts of the 12th doctor and clara were when they had romantic tension #the funniest part is that Moffat is actually really good at coding these characters as ace #but he still feels the need to shoe horn in a romance and it arguably worsens the writing #anyway; tl;dr: Steven Moffat is an otherwise good writer but he keeps letting aphobia get in the way of good writing

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goldencherriess · 2 years

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Sentiment.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Fem! Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Requested? Yes! And it was by @gaitwae (i hope you like it <;3)

Summary: Sherlock finds himself entranced by Lestrade's best friend and co-worker.

Warnings: kinda office romance, fluff

Masterlist

Sherlock Holmes was a man of pragmatism and cold truth. He could answer to any question, he could find a resolve in everything (science always played a part in this sense), but when his dear roommate and companion, John Watson, suggested that maybe the suspect was in love with the victim's wife, he felt repulsed by the idea.

"Absolutely not, John! Have you paid attention to the details, to the facts?"

John's eyebrows shot to the top of his head. "Have you?"

Scoffing, Sherlock put his hands in the coat's pockets. "Sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side. No, we're dealing with a cold murderer this time, not some love sick puppy. If he were in love, his eyes pupils would have dilated when we asked about her, but they did not. And I-'' he trailed off when he saw a familiar mop of hair appearing behind John and talking to Lestrade, a notebook in her arms.

John turned around, eyebrows still raised and he crossed his arms, a smirk finding its way on his lips. His eyes met Sherlock's again. "You were saying?"

Sherlock licked his suddenly dry lips and blinked. "I, uh-"

"Cat got your tongue, Sherlock?"

It was as if Sherlock's brain short circuited, cutting all the ties to reality. He blinked and gulped thickly. ''When in love and looking at the object of all your desires and affection, your pupils get dilated. The pulse gets increased and you feel your breath leaving you. But that's not true, that's just an illusion, it's your body reacting to hormones. It's just pure science, really.'' he said, whispering the last part and never taking his eyes off of Y/N.

She was laughing now, touching Lestrade's arm and shaking her head in amusement. And Sherlock felt his stomach twisting into something he couldn't name. He tilted his head. ''I'm right, aren't I, John?''

''I don't know, Sherlock, but it doesn't seem so to me.''

Sherlock's gaze slowly left Y/N's figure and met John's eyes. His eyebrows pinched together. ''Why do you say that?''

John's smirk never left his lips. ''Your pupils dilated.''

Sherlock nodded, a realization dawning on him. And his eyes were again on her, just drinking her in. ''They did, didn't they?''

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Y/N L/N was a woman of soft love and indulging daydreams. A pure romantic at heart, she could find meaning in every glance and smile (she did learn best from Jane Austen). But when her best friend and co-worker, Greg Lestrade, inquired about her new crush, she mumbled an excuse, blushing furiously and averting his gaze.

"Oh come on! I know you, Y/N! Been knowing you for years now. So, who is it?"

Shaking her head, Y/N replied. "No one."

Lestrade furrowed. "Then why are you blushing?"

''Why are we talking about this now? We're at a crime scene.'' she almost snapped.

Lestrade pursed lips, nodding and putting his hands in his pockets, his gaze looking in the distance at nothing particularly. And for awhile, neither of them said anything, the bustling of the forensic pathologists filling the air. Y/N fumbled with the notebook in her arms, her gaze sliding towards a certain curly haired man. They rarely talked about anything other than work, but she always found herself enticed by what he was saying. His mind worked in mysterious and interesting ways and she only wished to understand it more, to be the one overtaking his thoughts. Just like he did hers.

He met her eyes across the room and she felt her face flush. He acknowledged her with a nod of his head and she smiled his way.

''It's Sherlock, isn't it?'' voiced Lestrade besides her.

She snapped her head towards him, almost getting a whiplash. ''What?''

He just laughed. ''I'll be sending you over to him with work more often, then.''

Her laugh matched his and she smacked his arm, while shaking her head. ''You're impossible.''

''But the best!''

''At annoying me, maybe.''

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Sherlock kept coming to crime scenes with John as he usually did. And things just went as they usually did. Anderson and Donovan were insufferable as ever, making wrong assumptions and awful comments. Graham (or was it Greg?) was useless as ever and John muttered praises under his breath, as always (''That's brilliant, Sherlock!'').

Except this time he was suddenly hyperaware of her presence. She always seemed to be there, in the corner of the room silently watching him work through the mystery and fog. It clouded his mind. He blinked, trying to get rid of the incorrigible thoughts and the tightness in his chest. He cleared his throat and risked a glance at John, who had his eyebrows raised. ''Right, well, uh, I have to think about this one, really mull it over.''

He straightened his back, popping the collar of his coat. But then, he looked at her and paused in his tracks. ''Unless, Y/N has anything to add to the case.''

She seemed lost in thought because once her name was spoken, by Sherlock no less, she snapped out of it, a blush adorning her cheeks. She visibly gulped and took a step forward, hugging her notebook closer to her chest. Her eyes met his and she had to inhale just so she could breath again. He was looking at her so intensely that she felt like she was being analyzed under the microscope, as if he could read through her. As if he could take her apart, soul by soul, layer by layer.

Y/N tore her eyes away from his and flipped through her notebook, only stopping when the date of today caught her attention. ''Well, uh, I believe the victim's wedding ring is missing.''

''There wasn't any wedding ring.'' interrupted Lestrade, frowning.

She nodded. ''Exactly. If you look at her left hand, you'd find the shadow of a wedding ring. She's very tanned, she must've returned from a vacation. Somewhere warm, as there isn't any sun in London. But she never did take off her wedding ring, the white line around her finger is the proof of that.''

''She could've just lost it.'' added John thoughtfully.

Sherlock remained quiet, his gaze pinned on Y/N, attention undivided by anything else but her. He was listening in, his mind screaming at the possibilities.

Y/N shook her head. ''No. The pictures of her husband in her wallet tell me otherwise. She cared. She wouldn't just let her ring get lost. There's something else there. Someone must've taken it. Maybe our killer.''

Sherlock's eyebrow arched and his eyes lit up. ''Impressive observation, darling.'' He started smiling and he grabbed her shoulders, leaning in to kiss her on both of her cheeks. ''Thank you!'' he said in a very excited voice, much like a kid would exclaim on a the Christmas morning at the sight of presents.

And he was off, the coat fluttering behind him in waves and leaving her flustered and red in the face. His kisses on her cheeks burned her like fireworks in the sky. She touched with shaking fingertips where his lips met her skin and she slightly smiled.

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221B was quiet, John gone God knew where. The rain was splattering against the windows in loud and almost thundering drops. Sherlock was sitting in his armchair, deep in thought, his hands lanced in a prayer position. He sighed and closed his eyes, his mind going off the rails.

The squeak of the front door pulled him to the reality. His eyes snapped open and his ears perked up. Light footsteps. Not John, as he walked harshly, his feet dragging behind him (he never actually left the war behind). Probably a woman, then. But not mrs. Hudson, as she always wore heels.

Sherlock slowly got up, his eyes never wavering from the door. The creeks of the stairs. Not a client, as the footsteps didn't sound urgent.

He was now in front of the door, touching the door knob and opening it like a storm cleaning everything in its path and he was met with the surprised eyes of Y/N L/N. She was drenching and panting, the rain really wearing her down. Her hair was soaking, raindrops falling from it and down onto the carpet with splashing sounds and the clothes were sticking to her skin and hugging her curves. Sherlock bit the inside of his cheek to not glance down her figure out of respect and dignity.

She sneezed, eyes closing and eyelashes shining with raindrops.

''Looks like you're catching a cold.'' Sherlock said in greeting.

She nodded before sneezing again.

''Bless you.''

She shivered and her arms hugged her waist in an attempt to find some warmth. Sherlock's eyes softened, but his voice remained impassible. ''Do come in, you're soaking my carpet.''

Flustered, the words came out of her mouth in a mess, closing in on each other and flying from the tip of her tongue. ''Uh, I'm sorry, didn't mean to- I just-''

''Save your energy and stop explaining yourself, you're obviously shivering and in dire need of a hot bath. Go do that, you're my guest. I'll prepare tea and get you some clothes to change in. Then we can talk.''

He gestured her towards the bathroom, before turning his back and leaving her with a red nose and a freezing face.

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He was stirring the tea when he heard her small footsteps padding on the floor. ''Do you take your tea with milk?'' he asked without looking up. ''I usually do and-'' Sherlock lifted his head and his words died in his throat. He finally understood the concept of your breath leaving you at the sight of something beautiful. Because Y/N was beautiful, a rare landscape. An oil portrait that deserved to be admired in a museum. Almost Mona Lisa like. She was wearing one of his old sweaters, back from his university days, and some worn out pants he found in the back of the wardrobe. She was wearing his clothes. Alas they were a bit too big on her, the sleeves of the sweater falling down her hands and swallowing them whole.

''No milk for me.'' she replied in a meek and already raspy voice. The cold was catching up to her.

He blinked the awe from his eyes and handed her a cup of tea. ''Careful, it's hot. And you should take some meds.''

She thanked him by nodding her head. ''Where's John?''

''With his new girlfriend, I presume.'' Sherlock scoffed, turning around and searching through the kitchen drawers. ''He's never out his late usually. He always goes to sleep early.''

''And you don't?''

''I don't sleep when I'm on a case.''

''But you need the sleep.''

Sherlock met her gaze and flipped towards her a bottle of medicine. ''And you need to take these.'' he replied with a sarcastic smile etched on his face. But his eyes betrayed his whole cold demeanor. They were soft, almost warm. And Y/N was afraid to maintain the eye contact for too long. His eyes haunted her. She felt vulnerable under his gaze. Exposed.

She thickly gulped. "Can you start the fire? I'm still a little bit cold."

"If you take the meds."

"I will."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I mean now."

She huffed, but complied anyways. The tea burned her throat, the aroma bursting in colors on her tongue and the sweet smell tickling her nostrils.

Sherlock nodded and then entered the living room, crouching down near the fireplace. "Why are you here?"

"Do you want me to leave?" she asked once she was seated in an armchair.

Sherlock glanced towards her. Y/N was sitting in his armchair, slowly sipping her tea and looking around curiously. No one actually sat on it, besides him. He never let anyone. He inhaled and tore his gaze from her and onto the split firewood in front of him. "Do you want to?"

"No." she replied, watching him.

He got up, the fire coming alive in reds and oranges, the wood cracking. "Then stay." His eyes didn't stray from her as he took a seat in John's chair. "Why are you really here, though? We're not actually friends, so you can't say you came to visit. You were panting, so you must have run all the way here. Unless, you missed the bus. But that can't be as you live on the other side of London. And you weren't planning it, either. If you did, you would have known they announced rain later today and you would have carried an umbrella. But you didn't, so I assume this was a spur of the moment idea. Am I correct so far?"

She blinked. "Yes, but-"

"And you didn't come on behalf of work, either. You would have carried some files and you would have been all business, no play, as you usually are." He leant forward on the seat, his arms coming to rest on his knees. "So, tell me, why are you here, Y/N?"

Her cheeks reddened and she shifted in her seat, her hands gripping the tea cup. "Did you just deduce me, mister Holmes?"

His eyebrow arched, hiding under a stray curl. "Why, was I wrong?"

Y/N shook her head. "Not a bit."

A smirk bloomed on his lips. "Of course I wasn't, darling. I never am."

"You're quite narcissistic." she replied, her eyes watching him over the rim of the cup.

"I believe the correct word would be modest."

She hummed, the corner of her eyes crickling in amusement. She gently put down her cup and looked him in the eye. The fire sprayed shadows on his face, the room in a low glow. "Did you solve the case, Sherlock?"

Confusion overtook his features. "Is this why you came all the way here?"

She shrugged inocently. "I was curious. Did you?"

He nodded, the fire reflecting in his eyes and ebony hair. "Yes. You helped me. When you told me about the wedding ring, a light went off in my head. I searched through her wallet. You were right, she cared too much to lose a wedding ring, it meant a lot to her. And I think someone got jealous."

Y/N arched an eyebrow. "An affair?"

"But not on her part, though. Love is a strong motive. It makes you do crazy things." Sherlock whispered.

His gaze burned her. He searched her eyes, as if he was hoping to find something in them, and then his gaze drifted off to her lips. "I know the signs." he said.

"What signs?" Y/N replied breathless.

"Your cheeks redden every time you look at me, your pupils dilate. You think I don't notice, but I do. Every time."

She swallowed. "Is that- Is that a bad thing?"

He got up to his feet and took slow steps, only stopping when he was close enough to take her wrist. A gentle touch. Her heart almost beat out of her chest and a lump formed in her throat when Sherlock leaned in to whisper into her ear, his breath warming her skin. "I took your pulse."

Y/N fluttered her eyes shut when she felt his lips skim over her jaw before he lightly kissed her cheek. "The feeling's mutual, by the way." he said in a low whisper, his lips caressing her afire skin.

And then he was up and away, smiling genuinely at her, a sparkle in his eyes. "You should get some rest. I'll be sleeping on the couch, you take the bed."

She opened her mouth to protest, but he beat her to it. "Please, you're my guest tonight. It would be my pleasure."

Y/N nodded, getting on her feet, her eyes meeting his chest. He was wearing the purple shirt he wore last week. His figure towered over her and he gently took her hand. "My room's that way. If you need anything, tell me. Good night, darling."

And he pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

John found the atmosphere weird that morning. His eyebrows were scrunching and he looked at Sherlock. "You're awfully quiet." he said while he spread butter on toast.

"Am I, really?" replied Sherlock, not taking his eyes off of the newspaper he was reading.

"Yes, you are. Don't you, usually, ramble about some newfound case?"

"Usually."

"Then, what's different this time?" replied John before he bit into the toast.

The clicking of a door and the sight of a just waken up Y/N made him choke on the food. "Careful, John, you'll die if you do that again. Good morning, darling. Tea?" said Sherlock in a sweet voice.

Y/N simply smiled at him, averting her gaze from John.

"I'm sorry, I feel like I'm missing something." laughed John.

"No, John, you're just delusional." said Sherlock, while he poured tea in a cup for Y/N, who was blushing furiously under all the attention.

"Wait 'till Greg hears about this!" replied John, still smiling in awe.

Sherlock's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Who?"

"Lestrade." said Y/N from besides him.

"I thought his name was Gavin."

"It's Greg."

"When did this happen?" interrupted John, all sparkling eyes.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, picking up the newspaper once again. "Nothing happened, John."

"I'm not believing a word! This is too good-"

"Stick to blogging, John, gossiping doesn't suit you."

Offended, John gasped, turning to look at Y/N. She avoided his gaze, drinking her tea and looking at the walls around them. "Right... My bad, then." he said, sighing.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Sherlock Holmes started smiling at crime scenes. It was almost off putting, the way a genuine smile would break through at any moment. In front of a corpse, no less.

Lestrade noticed it. He also noticed the oh-so-not-subtle glances. Sherlock's eyes would slip over to Y/N and she would meet his gaze, almost shyly but smiling.

Then, the detective started asking her opinion on the cases more often and Lestrade knew. How could he not when it was all so obvious?

"You know, Sherlock, one day you're gonna steal my co-worker." he said as he approached him.

Sherlock's face remained impassible like stone. "That won't ever happen. She'll come willingly if you keep boring her. Send her on real cases, she's smart enough to solve them on her own."

Lestrade opened his mouth to reply but he was left in the dust after Sherlock spotted Y/N. "Yeah, okay..." he trailed off as he watched Y/N greet Sherlock with a blush and a shy smile.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

"Let's have lunch." said Sherlock to Y/N, meeting her eyes and standing straight. He wore his blue navy coat and a white shirt this time.

"To talk about the case? I think I found a lead and-"

"No."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "No?"

He took a step closer to her. "No. Let's have lunch to talk about ourselves."

She felt her face flush. "Oh."

Sherlock's eyes held a look of amusement and adoration and he smiled. "I believe the correct word would be yes." He lightly took her hand, his thumb caressing her skin in slow circles. "Please, do me this honour and let me take you out on a date."

Y/N smiled up at him, before standing on her tip toes to kiss his cheek. "I'd love to."

Bonus:

"I kind of set them up." said Lestrade as he and John watched the interaction between Sherlock and Y/N from afar.

"How so?"

"I stole Y/N's umbrella and then set her off home, asking her to stop by 221B in order to ask Sherlock what progress he was making in solving that case."

"Oh, Greg! That was brilliant! She spent the night there."

"Did she?"

"Yeah."

"Interesting."

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

A/N: oh wow this somehow turned to be a long one. It was supposed to be around 2k words, more or less but I kinda got carried away.

I hope you enjoyed it! Every feedback is appreciated! If you'd like to be added to the tag list, just comment under this post or send me an ask!

Have a great day xx

Tag list: @bohemianrhapsody86 @andreead

#sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock x reader #sherlock x you #Sherlock x fem! reader #bbc sherlock #sherlock holmes #john watson #greg lestrade #reader insert #x reader #writing #fanfic writing #my writing #masterlist #request #laura writes #fluff #office romance

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gregorovitch-adler · 8 months

Text

Romance

After Holmes had arrested Jefferson Hope, and I had had a discussion with him that I was going to publish the story in The Strand - to let everyone know who had really solved the case - Holmes had agreed.

A better explanation would be that Holmes did not care. It did not matter to him who received the credit for solving the case in the newspapers. However, it did matter to me. Very much, in fact.

In what world was it fair for the police officers at Scotland Yard to take help from Holmes to solve the case every step of the way and not even thank him publicly? It simply could not happen. Not on my watch.

After having published the story, I decided to show it to Holmes. I was quite enthusiastic about it.

However, I had not expected Holmes to react so badly.

When I brought up the conversation, whilst he was consuming his damn cocaine - with his long and thin legs stretched out on the coffee table - he shook his head ruefully.

“I glanced over it,” said he. “Honestly, I cannot congratulate you upon it. Detection is, or ought to be, an exact science, and should be treated in the same cold and unemotional manner. You have attempted to tinge it with romanticism, which produces much the same effect as if you worked a love story or an elopement into the fifth proposition of Euclid.”

“But the romance was there,” I remonstrated. “I could not tamper with the facts."

I had feared that this conversation might be going in a dangerous direction. Holmes was not insinuating the obviousness of my feelings for him - that had developed over time - was he?

Well, if he decided to spell it out, I would not hesitate to remind him about how much he had blushed after listening to my compliments about his detective work.

I could not say anything for sure, but as time passed, I had a feeling that there was something between us. A connection, of sorts. One that went beyond what a couple of flatmates usually had.

Holmes may have a habit of pretending that he preferred to be unemotional, but I was his closest friend. I lived with him. I might not be as brilliant as he was, but I could tell that he did not mean it.

"Some facts should be suppressed, or at least a just sense of proportion should be observed in treating them. The only point in the case which deserved mention was the curious analytical reasoning from effects to causes by which I succeeded in unraveling it.”

I was annoyed at this criticism of a work that had been specially designed to please him. Moreover, I was hurt to know that he would deviate this much from the truth.

Maybe I had miscalculated. Probably it was only I who felt the connection between us. Not him. I frowned at the thought and swallowed as I stopped pacing and took a seat on my armchair across from Holmes in the sitting room.

I was willing to speak up this time, though.

I inhaled deeply and held my breath as I spoke. "And why, pray tell, do you want to suppress the facts, specifically about romance? Is it because the same facts hit too close to home?"

Holmes came out of his dazed state, dropped his legs on the floor, and sat up straight with his grey eyes widened.

"What are you getting at, Watson?" asked Holmes cautiously.

"We have not been friends for that long, but for what little time I have known you, I've developed a profound respect for you and your work. There is more to it, however. I have grown to have feelings for you. Romantic feelings, in particular."

Holmes leaned forward in his chair and pinned me with an intense gaze. Fortunately, he did not try to interrupt me.

"I think that you have, too. Although I could be extremely wrong on that part, it makes little sense for you, of all people, to want to suppress the facts and events that happened for real. So, I want to know: Am I right about the real reason or not? I would certainly understand if I am completely off the mark and you do not feel the same, but I need to know."

I breathed deeply after having blurted all that out, hoping to dear Lord that I had not messed up everything and ruined our friendship.

"Oh, dear Watson," Holmes breathed. His long and thin fingers were tapping on his sinewy lap vigorously. "You are so exactly on point sometimes. Everything you said - all of it... I feel the same way."

My heart fluttered with excitement and happiness. A ridiculously wide smile spread across my face. It looked as though he wanted to say more, so I let him.

Holmes continued. "And yes, I do not wish for the whole world to know about it through your stories. I see I was a bit too harsh about it, moments ago. I apologise."

Holmes got up to make sure the door was shut and the window curtains had been drawn. They were. Holmes then walked across the room to approach me. I was still sitting, so he looked down at me with the same intensity as before.

I looked up to meet his gaze and locked my eyes with him.

He held out his pale hand to me in an offer.

My heart pounded as I took that hand and got up to meet his eye level.

His eyes were filled with longingness and pain. His brows were furrowed. "The world will never forgive us. They will never acknowledge that we are just two people in love who happen to be men."

He was right, as always. My eyes welled up as I gulped. I was still holding his hand, which felt warm and dry in mine.

"I know. Do you think this is a bad idea, then?" I tried to be prepared for the worst. 'Tried'.

Holmes placed his other hand on my waist and pulled me close. Our faces were just inches away. "I never said that, Watson. I was never the one to go with the rules, was I?"

We both shared a short laugh. Without another word, we leaned in and I captured his bottom lip with my mouth.

He made a desperate sound and we deepened the kiss with our arms wrapped around each other tightly. The dam had broken, and we were unable to let go for a whole minute.

I pulled away reluctantly. "Holmes, I-"

"Sherlock."

My ears had been aching to hear that correction. "Sherlock, I was saying that we need to deal with this in a practical way as well. I will not forgive myself if we were to be arrested because of this," I said with my brows furrowed.

"You are right," he said, holding my face in his hands.

"I suppose we would have to confine our relationship to the rooms of this flat." My heart was heavy.

My lover's ethereal grey eyes lit up with a mischievous glint in them. Christ, the effect those eyes always had on me.

"I have a plan."

Of course, he did. I was now looking at him with expectation and pride.

"You are going to have to marry a woman."

"What the deuce are you -"

"Shh." Sherlock placed a long finger on my mouth. "Just listen. That woman is a distant relative of mine. She is going to be our next client too. Her name is Mary Morstan."

I still did not get what was going on. Was he already pushing me away?

"For God's sake, do not look so heartbroken," he said and pulled my face close by my chin to press another kiss on my mouth.

"Her situation is just like ours. She has fallen in love with another woman too. Only I knew about that until now. She is in a constant state of having to look over her shoulder, trying to keep the prying eyes of this cruel world away. It occurred to me just now that if you married her, we would not have to worry about society anymore. It would be helpful for all four of us."

I sighed in relief and gave this whole thing a thought for a moment. "Excellent plan, Sherlock. This is brilliant!"

Sherlock smiled and looked down as he blushed.

"Just remember to never be on a first-name basis in public. John."

I grinned from ear to ear like an idiot, before pulling him in for a slow, drawn-out kiss again.

I knew what I had to do next. I just had to twist the facts in my next story to make it look like I was in love with Mary or whatever her name was.

Now, nobody would speculate a thing about Holmes and I, would they?

***

Sherlock September Challenge

Prompt Romance by @onesmallfamily

Tags: @helloliriels @topsyturvy-turtely @gaylilsherlock @lisbeth-kk @keirgreeneyes @lookingforlifeoutthere @clueless-mp4 @missdeliadili @curlyjohnlock @a-victorian-girl @peanitbear @kettykika78 @calaisreno

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