#bbc sherlock x reader
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Denial; Mycroft Holmes
Mycroft only seeked you out to deduce you (aka, how Mycroft realised he liked you).
John and Sherlock were, without a doubt, the loudest neighbours that Y/N had ever had.
Gunshots at God only knows what hour, constant stabbing, banging, and so on. Despite this, she still considered them dear friends and the best neighbours that she had ever had. Sure, they were weird and loud, but they were also kind and genuine, at least for the most part. Alongside this, they also appreciated her baking, especially after long cases.
A gentle knock sounded on the door the 221B catching the attention of three people.
“You can come in, Y/N,” Sherlock called from behind the door, greeting the woman with a nod before turning his attention back to Mycroft whilst John smiled at her.
“Hi, Sherly. Hi, John.” She smiled at the two friends before turning to the older Holmes brother. “Hi, Mr Holmes.” Y/N greeted him with a smile. Although she hadn’t met him before, it wasn’t difficult to deduce who he was; the expensive suit and the fact Sherlock was glaring at him gave it away.
“Sherly?” Mycroft spat, grimacing at the nickname given to his brother. “Who on Earth would you let call you that?” He asked.
“This is Y/N, our neighbour. What have you brought for us today? I’ve been looking forward to this all week.” The sweet smile Sherlock gave to the woman made Mycroft feel ill. He had no clue who this woman was and absolutely no idea why they seemed to be this close.
“Chocolate cake, sugar cookies, and love.” She joked, beginning to laugh at the way Mycroft audibly gagged. “I’m only kidding. No love.”
“I should certainly hope not,” came Mycroft’s response, one which simply made her laugh again.
“Are you jealous, Mycroft?”
“Because of the cake, he is.” Sherlock interrupted, waving Myrcoft off. “No, I won’t take the case. You can leave now.”
“This is an urgent matter, brother mine.”
“Don’t care.”
With a groan and a roll of his eyes, Mycroft lifted himself to his feet and prepared to leave.
“I’ll leave these with you, just in case you change your mind. Goodbye brother mine. John.” The hesitation was obvious on Mycroft’s face, despite how well he typically hid his emotions, as he faced Y/N.
“It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr Holmes.” Y/N smiled sweetly, earning a simple nod from him before he left.
Sherlock, who had leaned to grab the tub of baked goods from the woman’s hands, rolled his eyes as Mycroft left and immediately began to eat.
It wasn’t long until Y/N’s entire life had been researched.
There wasn’t much there. No criminal record, a few jobs, occasional moves, but no sign of her posing any danger to Sherlock and, by association, John. However, the way Mycroft felt upon seeing her was unusual, so he decided to do his own investigation.
“Morning, Mr Holmes,” he was greeted before he reached the empty counter. “Welcome to my bakery! Would you like anything?”
“Just a coffee, please. Black.” Mycroft nodded, not returning the smile she had given, despite the odd feeling it gave him. She was evil and he would prove it to Sherlock.
“Coming right up! Take a seat wherever you’d like, and I’ll bring it over.”
As Mycroft occupied a seat, he took a moment to properly assess the woman making his drink.
She didn’t seem threatening: a content smile on her lips as she prepared his coffee, humming a quiet tune that he barely picked up on. In fact, she didn’t seem out of the ordinary at all, but the feeling when he first saw her – a feeling Mycroft couldn’t explain – had him needing to investigate her further.
“Here you go, Mr Holmes.” Y/N said, placing a hot coffee and chocolate cake on the table in front of him. “Sherlock mentioned that you like cake, so I grabbed you some. It’s all on the house.”
“Why?”
With a small laugh, she responded without hesitation. “You’re Sherlock’s brother.”
How odd, Mycroft thought to himself. She doesn’t even know me and she’s giving me things for free…
Despite his thoughts, Mycroft simply nodded, watching as she took a seat opposite him. “I hope you don’t mind. It’s quiet today so I figured I’d try and keep you company the best I can. I’m sure you have better company than me, though.”
“I don’t mind,” he replied before even thinking. It was safe to say that he didn’t enjoy the way his chest felt whilst he watched her smile.
Maybe she’s a witch? No, don’t be stupid, Mycroft. They don’t exist.
“So,” Y/N’s voice broke the man from his thoughts. “It’s a funny story how me, Sherlock, and John met. I was actually working and Sherlock bursts in demanding to talk to me. My baking stuff had been found at a crime scene and he thought it was me!”
“How interesting.” Came Mycroft’s blunt reply, even if he was intrigued.
“You listened to it, so you must care, even just a little bit. I think that’s a win for me!”
Mycroft couldn’t help the tiniest smile that crawled onto his lips, but he internally prayed that nobody noticed it, especially her. She, however, seemed oblivious to the movement, simply staring over his shoulder and out of the window.
“Anyway, what was he like growing up? Was he like he is now? Blunt and rude?” Y/N asked with a giggle.
“He wasn’t, actually. He was rather sweet. He liked playing pretend with his friend; he always wanted a dog too.” Came Mycroft’s reply. “His favourite thing was pirates.” He said with a fond look in his eyes. Sherlock wasn’t going to be happy when he found out that he had told her, but he couldn’t resist answering her question.
Mycroft watched closely as the woman in front of him grinned, the bright and happy smile a nice contrast to what he was used to whilst working with the government. He couldn’t help but smile back, noting how her smile widened further as he did so.
“That’s sweet. I couldn’t imagine that, to be honest,”
It was time to ask the question that was on his mind. “Are you attracted to Sherlock?”
“Sherlock?” Y/N said, bursting into laughter. “No, absolutely not. He’s more like an annoying older brother. Same with John. We’re just friends, and, well, neighbours too.”
Confusion spread over Mycroft as she felt the weight on his shoulders lift at her words; she was telling the truth.
“How is she?” Sherlock asked the moment he answered the phone.
“How is who?” Mycroft’s voice sounded through the device.
“Y/N,”
“Why do you assume that I know?”
“It’s obvious you were there earlier.”
“…”
“Well, that and Mrs Hudson told us.”
“Of course she did.” Mycroft said with an involuntary roll of his eyes.
“So, how was it?”
“It was fine.”
“You like her then?”
“What makes you think that?”
“Well, you went to see her. It’s quite obvious, Mycroft. Come on, I thought you were smarter than that.”
Mycroft simply put the phone down.
He did not like her.
The next time that Mycroft came across Y/N was when it was raining.
He hadn’t wanted to seem ‘creepy’ by seeking her out again for more investigations and deductions, so he simply waited. She was friends with his brother, it wasn’t like their paths wouldn’t cross at some point. Besides, he didn’t want Sherlock to think that he liked her.
“Raining real bad tonight, isn’t it?” The driver spoke to Mycroft. He was new, so Mycroft couldn’t exactly blame him for attempting some type of conversation with him; it was still annoying, though.
Anthea, looking up from her phone was what caught Mycroft’s attention. “I feel bad for her.” She said, nodding towards a soaked woman. It only took Mycroft a moment to realise who it was.
“Pull over,” he stated bluntly, grabbing his umbrella. He simply ignored the look he was receiving from his assistant.
It had been a long day filled with rude customers, and to make it worse, it was raining, and she had forgotten her coat. Today couldn’t be going any worse for Y/N.
Shivering wildly and soaked to the core, Y/N huffed, watching the way her breath instantly evaporated; it was clearly below freezing, but she held out hope that the rain would stop and she would be home soon.
Her hope seemed to pay off, though, since she could no longer feel the rain. As she looked up at the sky, she spotted a familiar face.
“Mycroft?”
“Y/N.”
“What are you-“
“Get in.” He said, pointing towards the car before wordlessly leading her towards it, still holding the umbrella above her, even if he was getting wet.
“You don’t have to, Mycroft.” She said as he ushered her in and shut the door behind them both. “I mean, I’m soaking your car!”
Mycroft, who could feel the heat on his cheeks from their proximity, simply shook his head. He was too focused on the way her leg was pressed against his as she sat between him and Anthea who stared at her phone with a small smirk.
The ride was void of conversation, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, the only noise was that of Y/N shivering.
After a moment of hesitation, Mycroft shrugged off his jacket and handed her it. “Here.”
There was no chance of refusal, Mycroft wouldn’t allow it, so with a quiet ‘thanks’, Y/N popped the jacket over her shoulders. He just found the chattering of her teeth annoying, was what he told himself.
As they arrived at the flats, Mycroft followed her out of the car.
“Thank you, Mr Holmes.” She said as they stood on the door of her flat.
“Mycroft is fine, Y/N.”
“Thank you… Mycroft.” She said with a small smile before bidding him a goodnight.
“I see you gave her your jacket,” Was all Sherlock said as Mycroft entered 221B.
It was hard. Very hard. Harder than anything Y/N had ever experienced. Having a crush was not easy as it was, but having feelings for Mycroft Holmes was the hardest thing in the world: he rarely showed emotion, he was blunt, he was rude, but most importantly to her, deep down, he was nice.
A small sigh left Y/N’s lips as she worked on her latest batch of cookies for the morning. He was on her mind… again. It was a common occurrence by now.
“We’re not open yet, sorry!” She called over her shoulder at the sound of the door opening. As she turned around to see who it was and apologise again, a blush rushed to her cheeks. “Mycroft! What are you doing here?”
Mycroft stood there, umbrella in hand, and gave a simple shrug. “I was on my way to work so thought I would ‘pop in’ as people say.” He explained, earning a laugh from the baker.
“Modern phrases don’t suit you, Mycroft.” She teased.
With an amused shake of his head, Mycroft took a seat at the table nearest her.
“Want some cookies? They’re fresh out of the oven!”
Mycroft nodded with a grateful smile, always glad to have sweet treats. He would never turn down anyone’s desserts, least of all Y/N’s; not because he liked her and didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but because she was a good baker.
The pair sat in a comfortable silence, Mycroft gladly eating his cookies with an appreciative look whilst Y/N worked on her next batch. There was nothing awkward between them, and there, surprisingly, never had been.
“Are you not at work today?” Y/N broke the silence with a question that was bugging her. She could have sworn Mycroft had always worked this time over the months that she had known him.
Mycroft hesitated for a moment. He was supposed to be there right now but had decided to visit you before. It wasn’t like anyone could fire him for it, he was basically the British government, after all.
“Not yet,” he lied, and he was glad that he was a good liar.
“Oh, okay! I’m happy you came then. I don’t want to bother you.”
“You could never be a bother,” the words fell from his lips before he even registered what his thoughts, and he noticed the blush race up her cheeks, as did she with his.
“Thank you, Mycroft.”
As he stared at her and her rosy cheeks, a million thoughts went through his mind, but they were all related to one thing: her. It was in that moment that he realised the truth, he did like Y/N, and he had been attracted to her since the beginning; that was what he was feeling.
Oh dear…
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Sherlock:*opens the body bag*
John: *shocked because he saw Y/n in a body bag with airpods in her ears*
also John: uhm.. Sherlock, shouldn't the clothes or items related to the corpse be separated?
Sherlock: *groan in frust* Y/n! How many times have I told you not to sleep in a body bag!
Y/n: *gets up and yawns while stretching her hands and cracking her spine* nice bed ever
John:...
#benedict cumberbatch x reader#bbc shows#benedict cumberbatch#bbc sherlock x reader#the abominable bride#bbc sherlock imagine#incorrect sherlock quotes#martin freeman#dr john watson#johnlock#sherlock reader insert#bbc sherlock#sherlock bbc#sherlock holmes x reader
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✨ Dropping by to request literally anything sherlock x reader - would love something with awkward idiots in love ✨
🍄 Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader
🍄 Genre: Fluff
🍄 Summary: When Sherlock goes off on a frantic tangent, John knows exactly who to call, the idiot in love with him...
🍄 Word Count: 2084
🍄 Abbreviations: N/A
🍄 Warnings: N/A
🍄 Note: I hope this is what you were looking for Anon! :)
“What’s he doing this time?” you answered the phone as John’s name appeared. You had become so accustomed to the calls at all odd hours of the day, usually all pertaining to your high-functioning sociopath of a friend, Sherlock. Odd hours like the one now.
You had just sat down in your cloud chair, kindle in hand ready to read the next chapter of your gripping (b/g) when the phone had pinged, angrily vibrating against the coffee table-top. A puff of air had moved the stray hairs touching your face as you instantly recognized the personalized ring tone you had installed. You knew that John wouldn’t call you unless it was at least a code blue, blue-in-the-face blue. A colour code the two of you had created to describe the different moods of Sherlock Holmes.
“I’m so sorry-” You rolled your eyes with a little smile. “He’s just off on one. He solved the case, you know the one with the woman and the suitcases? He’s been off the walls since then. Can’t get him to settle, he’s talking about renovating the flat, knocking walls down for more ‘thinking space’. I think Mrs Hudson’s threatened to evict him already,” You couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped your lips at the thought of the sweet old woman threatening your tall friend, knowing very well that she’d mean every word. You could already picture the offended horror on Sherlock’s face at her threats.
“I’m on my way,” you reassured before hanging up the phone and pushing yourself out of the comfortable chair. Slipping your kindle into your bag, you grabbed your keys from the hook and turned off the lights. You didn’t bother changing out of your night clothes,, instead your threw a long coat over your pajamas and slipped on your trainers before heading out of the flat. You weren’t exactly keen on the idea of getting a cab this late at night, but you preferred that over walking the streets alone in the dark.
Thankfully, Baker Street was only a few roads away and the journey was nice and short with the lack of traffic at this time of night. Looking up at 221B you could see tat it was one of the only lights on in the street. You slipped the spare key out of your bag and unlocked the door to 221B.
Mrs Hudson reached the bottom of the stairs in an angry flurry huffing as she passed, a few rushed ‘oh dear’s escaping her lips as she passed you, only briefly making eye contact as she scurried back into her flat, red-faced. Taking that as your cue, you started up the stairs to the flat, fully expecting to see the flat in complete disarray, and you weren’t disappointed.
The papers from the now-closed case were still strewn across the flat, stuck to the walls, laid out on the desk, tucked under the tea cups on the small side table. The tea cups, several sat on the desk untouched and probably growing a few types of fungus that Sherlock could happily describe for you. The pillows from the sofa were thrown about the flat as Sherlock stood on the sofa, feet buried in the sofa cushions and tape measure I hand as he stretched it across the wall in front of him, a HB pencil clenched between his teeth.
“Thank God you’re here!” John poked his head out of the kitchen as if weary of the man in the living room. He gestured for you to step into the kitchen, with a final glance at the tall consulting detective, you slipped into the kitchen.
“How long has he been like this?” you asked, setting your bag down on the cluttered kitchen table. Piles and piles of old experiments were stacked tall, filling up almost the entire surface of the table and from the darkening black patch by one of the chairs you had no doubt that Sherlock had blown something up today, yet another thing to add to the list of problems for you and John.
“A couple of hours now, I stupidly thought that solving the case would change his mood, but it only seemed to make him more antsy for another one-” He sighed. “Sorry it’s so late, I know you usually sit down and read about now. I didn’t want to bother you but with Mrs Hudson threatening eviction I thought it best not to wait.” You smiled at your friend and shook your head.
“Don’t worry about it, it’s been a while since he’s been like this so it was expected sooner or later. Better sort him out before Mrs Hudson really does chuck him out.” The two of you chuckle at the thought of a homeless Sherlock, it’s not really a sight either of you can imagine fully. But you had no doubt that his homeless network would really find him the best spots in London to squat.
“You don’t mind if I take a quick walk do you? I’ve been cooped up in here for a few hours trying to sort him out, just need bit of fresh air.” You shook your head and hurried John out of the kitchen door and down the stairwell. You knew it would be easier to deal with Sherlock without John around anyway. Not that John was a problem, but with Sherlock like this and his habit of making unsavory comments without fully thinking of the consequences, it would be easier than having a row start between the two flat mates.
You paused for a moment and brushed your finger against the black mark on the table top and inspected the pad of your finger. That’ll come off with some polish, you decided. Stepping back out of the kitchen and into the living room, your eyes zeroed in on the consulting detective who had now abandoned the tape measure and was gently knocking against the wall looking for a hollow sounding area.
“No.” You spoke clearly, catching the attention of the detective who had yet to notice you. Spinning on his heels, his eyes flashed at you wide and adorable. It kind of reminded you of a child who had been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. His mouth started to open but you shut him down quickly. “No,” You gave him a stern look. “That wall has all of the major electricity lines and one of the main water pipes. No.”
“There’s no way you could possibly know that just from looking at the wall-” Sherlock argued.
“No I couldn’t. I know because I had to get the schematics for the flat after you started shooting the walls because you were banned from in-person cases and blew the power out in this side of London,” You reminded. “An event that Mycroft still calls ‘The Great COVID Blackout’.” Sherlock’s nose scrunched at the mention of his brother. “Now, are you going to sit down or am I going to have to use that self-defense training program you insisted I go on to incapacitate you?” You could almost see the cogs turning in his head as his eyes narrowed at you, trying to deduce if you were serious or not. Your unwavering stance must have given him his answer as he slowly stepped down from the sofa and settled his feet back on the floor calmly.
“Why are you here?” You were very rarely offended by Sherlock’s blunt words, it just wasn’t worth the energy when you also knew that he rarely meant it to come across in that way. “No, don’t answer that. You’re here in your night clothes, your kindle is tucked in your bag and your hair is done up which means it’s late- John called you. Why?”
“Probably because his roommate was threatened with eviction after planning to renovate their rented flat and set the landlady off.”
“Mrs Hudson wouldn’t evict me. She still owes me for getting her husband executed.”
“Favours do expire Sherlock. They have their limits.” His eyebrows furrowed.
“Really?” You nod. “Oh. Well John wouldn’t let her evict me.”
“Have you been experimenting today?” You think back to the two mugs settled on the kitchen counter, one sporting a brownish green sludge at the bottom.
“Yes, why- Oh.”
“Right come on,” You clapped your hands, moving towards him and grabbing one of his hands to pull him over to his chair. You ignored the sounds of protest from Sherlock as you settled on the chair and tugged on his arm. “Sit down,” you instructed. Sherlock sighed and complied, dropping onto the floor and crossing his legs underneath him. You grabbed the TV remote and switched it on. “What should we watch? Bones or Criminal Minds?” you pondered.
“Why do we have to watch a crime show? They’re always so inaccurate-” You flick the TV onto an episode of Criminal Minds. “Look, the killer’s using tape- what about finger prints? They don’t need to study his behaviour, just find the prints-” You smiled softly, fiddling with a few strands of Sherlock’s curly hair in your lap as he rattled on about the mistakes of the Unsub and the BAU team.
It was around an hour later that John returned to the flat. Pushing open the front door of 221, he was relieved to hear nothing. The light under Mrs Hudson’s door was now off, meaning she had slipped into bed, no longer tormented by her tenant’s renovation plans. The light on the landing let off a soft glow as John started up to the flat.
A heavy wave of relief swept through him as he noticed the lack of banging, drilling, sawing or any construction noises at all. You had managed to talk him out of it for now. He reached the top of the stairs and could hear the muffled sounds of the TV in the flat. Stepping into the kitchen he could see that the place was still a pig sty but at least there wasn’t any knocked down walls or partially constructed extensions. The mess could be dealt with in the morning.
As he turned the corner and peeked - still a little cautiously into the living room - a soft smile graced his face. Your back was pressed against one of the arms of Sherlock’s chair, your legs swung over the opposite side. Sherlock’s was still perched on the floor with his legs crossed, his head dropped back against your stomach, with your right hand resting on top. Your fingers rhythmically threading through his curly brown locks, soothingly. John flicked his eyes up to the TV screen to see an episode of Criminal Minds playing, Sherlock’s face scrunched in distaste as he watched the team profile the murderer. Your other hand held your kindle tightly, your fingers set comfortably around the flower pop socket on the back as you occasionally flicked the pages with your thumb.
John couldn’t help but watch in awe for a moment. No one he knew had ever been able to soothe Sherlock in the way that you could. Not him, not Mrs Hudson and certainly not his brother, not even his parents had this calming effect that you had. He wondered if Sherlock would ever confess to the effect you had on him, or explain why you had such an effect on him. John knew the reason, Mrs Hudson knew the reason… did Sherlock? Did you?
You were always just as oblivious as Sherlock. John had mentioned to you once or twice about how you effected the consulting detective, but you couldn’t see it. You wouldn’t admit to the effect you so clearly had on him nor would you confess to the butterflies that whirled in your stomach whenever you were this close to him.
You caught John’s eye and must’ve made an educated guess of what he was thinking as you rolled your eyes and shook your heads.
Deciding that now was probably not the time to bring up the obvious pink elephant that shared the living room with the three of you, John mouthed a ‘thank you’ to you and you nodded, letting out a quiet yawn. He bidded a quick farewell to the pair of you before shuffling out of the kitchen and upstairs to his room. On his way up the stairs, he couldn’t help but wonder how long the two of you would remain oblivious.
As he reached the top of the staircase he paused and chuckled. Lovesick idiots.
#sherlock x reader#sherlock oneshot#sherlock imagine#sherlock holmes#sherlock#sherlock holmes x reader#sherlock holmes imagine#sherlock holmes oneshot#bbc sherlock#bbc sherlock x reader#bbc sherlock oneshot#bbc sherlock imagine#request#reqs open#requests open#anon ask
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brother dearest
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader
Summary: Mycroft had never considered himself to be overprotective. However, he isn't overly pleased with how smitten his little brother is with you...
Word Count: 1.8k
Warnings: John is the only one with any emotional intelligence and Mycroft is faced with the horrifying ordeal of realising his younger sibling is dating, so they're all idiots really
Mycroft Holmes could practically feel his blood pressure rising. Confidential documents had been stolen from the very hands of the British government, putting the democratic well-being of an entire nation in jeopardy. And his little brother wouldn't answer the phone.
The moment word of the breach had gotten to Mycroft his first plan of action was to call Sherlock. Of course, he could have hypothetically dealt with the issue himself had it not required leg work. But to his dismay, contacting the youngest Holmes seemed to be as unlikely as winning the lottery.
Tossing dignity to the wind in the name of restoring balance to the western world, Mycroft stooped to the, in his opinion, ever embarrassing low of visiting Baker Street himself. He ascended the stairs, his displeasure evident in the weight of his steps, and refused to practice the common courtesy of knocking before entering the flat. Sherlock had lost that privilege when he refused to pick up the bloody phone.
Mycroft tutted with annoyance when he found both the living room and kitchen empty. Sherlock's coat, with whom he refused to go anywhere without, still hung idle on the clothes rack. He was in the flat and Mycroft was going to find him if he had to tear away every brick.
With all the begrudgement of a man who'd had his morning routine seriously uprooted, Mycroft marched towards Sherlock's bedroom and swung open the door.
He almost immediately wished he hadn't.
Sherlock lay sprawled out on the bed, white sheets twisting over alabaster skin. His eyes were shut, his hair a tangled mess of curls and you lay by his side.
Mycroft's jaw fell so quickly he expected it to unhinge and clatter against the floor with all the comedic effect of a nineties cartoon.
Sherlock's head rested against your shoulder whilst the lower half of your face was largely hidden by his curls. Your lips brushed his forehead in a prolonged kiss and Sherlock's arm was thrown over you almost possessively. Your own hand curled softly around the nape of his neck.
Disbelief, embarrassment and anger chased each other across Mycroft's expression before he settled with complete mortification. He couldn't explain it, not really, but seeing his little brother in bed with someone made him feel ridiculously nauseous.
Sherlock shifted, stretching out his limbs like a content cat before nuzzling closer to you.
Having no idea what else to do, the eldest Holmes shut the door. After a quick and failed attempt to purge the last few moments from his memory, he made his way back towards the living room.
He was met by John.
The doctor quickly did away with his fresh bag of groceries in order to make small talk, much to Mycroft's disdain. When John got around to the reason for his visit, and therefore Sherlock's current whereabouts, Mycroft shifted awkwardly.
“He seems to be occupied.”
A look of confusion clouded John's expression. He glanced down the hallway, jutting his thumb in the direction of Sherlock's room.
“I'm fairly certain he's just–” John's words were dissolved by the bitter look that was thrown his way by the eldest Holmes. “–oh, he didn't tell you?”
“Tell me what?” Mycroft asked with a painfully fake smile.
John swallowed thickly, suddenly very unhappy with the fact that he was the one that had to break the news to possibly the most powerful man in Britain that his little brother was seeing someone.
“He uh– he didn't tell you about himself and Y/N?”
Mycroft blinked. “It would appear he left out that minor detail.”
The silence that followed was awkward at best and utterly painful at worst. John, who wanted nothing more for the interaction to end but had no idea how to make that happen, nodded. Mycroft cleared his throat and readjusted his hold on his umbrella.
He glanced back towards his brother's room and John didn't miss the subtle glare he was trying to hide. Ah, so that's what this was about. John may not have shared Sherlock's observational skills but he did have a sister. He knew what overprotectiveness looked like.
“Mycroft, you do realise that Sherlock is an adult.”
“If that's what you would like to call him.”
“Right,” John dismissed quickly. “But he and Y/N are together. They have feelings–”
What was very much beginning to sound like a new rendition of ‘the birds and the bees’ was shortened by a scoff on Mycroft's behalf.
"My brother is barely capable of understanding his own feelings, you think he can handle someone else's?"
“You'd be surprised.”
Surprised was certainly one word for it. Mycroft simply couldn't imagine his brother being emotionally involved with anyone, regardless of how much imagination he tried to employ. He failed to imagine Sherlock in any situation that involved intimacy or vulnerability, let alone with you.
As if the very thought of you had doubled as a summoning spell, you entered the kitchen, steps lazy and eyes tired. If you were surprised to see the eldest Holmes you hid it well.
“Mycroft,” you greeted with a tight-lipped smile.
“Y/N.”
Your eyes moved between him and John, trying to piece together what exactly you'd walked into. John cleared his throat. You fought the urge to just go back to bed.
“Can I get you anything?” You motioned to the kitchen.
“My brother, if it's no trouble.”
“Showering,” you yawned. You decided not to add the bit where Sherlock had mentioned needing to ‘cool off before facing the devil so early in the morning’ upon realising his brother was in the living room. “He won't be long.”
“I see. I hate to show up unannounced. But I tried to call this morning and it seemed he was unavailable.”
You smirked despite yourself. Mycroft's grasp on his umbrella tightened.
After a few agonising moments that consisted of you cluelessly making yourself a morning cup of tea, Mycroft glaring holes into your back and John all but hiding behind his newspaper, Sherlock joined you.
His hair was damp, curls frizzed up due to the warm water. Mycroft hadn't seen it in such a state since Sherlock was a child. The unruly nature of his hair, as well as its tendency to make him look far less intimidating and far more endearing, often led to embarrassment. Which is why Mycroft was so surprised to see him so at ease.
Sherlock didn't so much as acknowledge his brother's existence as he made a beeline towards you, accepting the tea you offered and leaving a lazy kiss against the side of your head. He was smiling fondly all the while.
Said smile immediately fell when he spotted Mycroft. Sherlock muttered something about god under his breath and took a long, almost purposefully so, sip from his mug before speaking.
“Terrorist attack or security breach?”
Mycroft raised an unamused brow.
“It's ten o'clock on a Sunday morning, from my understanding you should be having tea with the prime minister or something–” Sherlock waved his free hand around dismissively. “You wouldn't be here if it wasn't of national importance. So which is it? Suspected terrorist attack or a security breach?”
“That, brother mine, is something you would have already been clued in on if you'd learned how to answer my calls.” Mycroft intended for his words to be somewhat scolding but judging by how Sherlock reclined in his chair and crossed his legs he figured his attempt at exerting some sort of authority over his younger brother had failed. “Now, it's not as threatening as initially believed but still relevant enough to warrant some sort of investigation. Which is why I need you to–”
His words fizzled out at the sight of you moving to stand behind Sherlock's chair. Your stance was relaxed, comfortable, as if you felt you belonged where you stood, as some sort of watchful protector. Mycroft glowered.
You seemed unfazed and Mycroft couldn't tell which he hated more, your hand now on Sherlock's shoulder or the fact that his brother was smirking because of it.
By some miracle, he managed to make it through the rest of the briefing without giving away just how much he wanted the floorboards to open up and swallow him.
He didn't know why the sight of you both together irritated him so much but by god was it getting under his skin. The glances you shared that Mycroft knew had hidden meanings behind them. How his brother, who needed a week's recovery in his room after any social interaction, preened under your touch. The youthful look in his eyes, the boyish smile. It was somehow painful to look at.
Mycroft could still recall when he was the only one that could placate his brother. When they were children, spending hours in their garden estate, finding insects and frogs and recalling their Latin names. Anything to keep their brilliant young minds entertained. He remembered how Sherlock would light up with each new nugget of information Mycroft gave him. Even into their teenage years, he was the one Sherlock trusted, the one he looked to for help and guidance. It had always been him.
But now, now there was you.
He had you to confide in. To talk to. To irritate with a tirade of useless facts that anyone else would think irrelevant. He had you to look out for him and comfort him and Mycroft couldn't understand why this was angering him so–
Oh.
The notion that his little brother had, in fact, grown up and didn't need him anymore came as a very unwelcome realisation. Mycroft had the sudden desire to leave the flat as promptly as he could.
“Well,” he cleared his throat. “I should be getting on. I trust you'll fill me in on your findings?”
Sherlock groaned, in agreement or dismissal it was hard to tell.
Mycroft, who now wanted nothing more than to leave, turned to make his way to the door. “Good day, doctor Watson.”
John nodded, not failing to notice the change in Mycroft's stance.
‘He's copped on then.’
Partially because of your closeness to the door and partially in an attempt to rectify whatever you'd done to wrong Mycroft, you moved to show him out.
He passed you silently but as you stepped back to close the door, he stopped you.
He seemed uneasy, an emotion that looked unnatural and foreign on him. His nerves were infectious and you quickly found yourself growing anxious, expecting him to gift you with some horrific piece of information to pass on to Sherlock to save him from dealing with the mess of telling his brother himself.
His actual request was something much softer.
“Take care of him, will you?”
It took a few moments for you to blink away your surprise. As confused as you were, you nodded all the same.
“Of course.”
Mycroft responded with a nod of his own, offered a surprisingly genuine smile and then turned to leave. He'd descended the stairs entirely by the time you finally closed the flat door.
“What was that about?” Sherlock asked nonchalantly.
You shook your head. “Absolutely no idea.”
John took a sudden interest in his newspaper in an attempt to ignore just how hard he was biting his tongue.
thank you for reading!
Sherlock tag list: @miraclesoflove @ilovefanfictions @mylovelysnowflake @quentawewe @bakerstreethound @andreasworlsboring101 @doozywoozy @xxinvisiblexx @the-worst-critic @the-queer-dungeoneer @jellyfishbeansontoast @starrykitn @starryeddie @ladymercury8 @themorningsunshine @evelynrosestuff @mywellspringoflife @simp-for-scammanders @Xhz17x @allieberries @kealohilani-tepise
#finally starting to clear out my drafts to help me get back in the writing groove#sherlock x reader#sherlock holmes x reader#bbc sherlock x reader#sherlock imagine#sherlock x you#sherlock holmes x you#bbc sherlock x you#bbc sherlock imagine#bbc sherlock#1k
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dating loki would include
dating loki in a nutshell
hair
loki would be obsessed with you hair and would probably be touching it with any chance he gets. he would always offer to wash it and braid it, style it or to even just run his hands through it. It would also work both ways, loki would love it when you played with his hair.
physical touch
this man is touchstarved. he will never be able to keep his hands off you, no matter where you are. he'd love hugging you from behind and nuzzling into your neck, taking in your sent, holding you as he sleeps, holding hands. He also would always have you in his arms or lap.
consent
Before loki does anything, this being touching or doing things for you, he would always ask, unless he knows 100%, you are okay with it. he's very strong on consent and always listens to your feelings and checks you're comftable even if you say something is fine. If you change your mind or refuse he will immediately stop and make sure everything is okay.
reading
Loki would love reading to you, reccomending you books and would constantly be ranting on about books he's reading. When you can't sleep, he'd often let you lay against his chest as he reads you an old book from his childhood while running his hands through your hair.
sarcasm
Even if you're his lover loki is still the most sarcastic, witty person to exist. He'd constantly be messing around or teasing you, always making sure you know his jokes are jokes and picking a right time but he'd probably be pranking you alot.
cuddles
He secretly loves them. After a long day he will search for you just to wrap himself around you or cling onto you any way he can. he loves hugs from people he trusts, and he would always make sure he falls asleep cuddled up with you.
insomnia
He barely sleeps and is always awake when you wake up. He loves the night but also the sound of birds at the crack of dawn. Although he doesn't sleep himself, he will always make sure you get enough rest.
kisses
Loki loves kissing you, his favourite places probably being your neck, thighs, hands, forehead, cheeks, and his overall favourite your lips. Even a peck is enough as long as he gets his kisses. When he's touchstarved, he won't get his lips away from you.
words of affirmation
he loves praising you, and he loves it when you say nice things to him, especially after his neglection as a kid. He will always make sure you feel loved, and it goes both ways. You'd often have him sneeking behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and whispering small things in your ear like, 'you look so beautiful, my darling' 'that dress looks gorgeous on you'
gift giving
He would buy you the entire 9 realms if he could. Loki would spoil you every single day. Whatever you wanted, he would buy for you, and you'd always be getting small gifts off of him
princess treatment
loki would unshamefully do everything for you, even in public. If your heels were hurting he'd take them off, carry them, and then carry you to wherever you both need to be, if you had laces, he'd tie them up, if you were unwell he would honestly slave for you, you'd have breakfast in bed, a hot water bottle and literally whatever you ask him for. He'd probably make you some chocolate covered strawberries as well.
music
he loves music and deffinatly has a viynal and cd player in his room. He likes all genres depending on the mood he's in, and he is the type of person to play his music loud enough for the whole of Asgard to hear. You've introduced loki to many 'midgardian' artists such as lana del rey, amy winehouse, artic monkeys, the weeknd, billie eilish, and rihannah and he loves them, especially the older artists such as Bowie, Queen, ABBA, Elvis and Harry James. Loki also has quite a soft singing voice himself, and you'd often catch him singing or humming to songs. After a lot of persuading, he'd sometimes sing you old norse lullabies his mother used to sing to him to help you sleep.
#loki#loki x reader#aesthetic#fanfic#tom hiddleston#art#bbcsherlock#benedict cumberbatch#writer#bbc sherlock x reader#datingloki#lokisdottir
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Drunk Confessions
A/N: Finally, after having not posted for such a long time... I can post a fic I had as a WIP since last year... I hope I get to write more again, but I can't promise anything. Anyway, I hope you guys like it.
Words: 1k
Warnings: Nothing, just some drunk sherlock?
After you received a message from Sherlock, that you should come as soon as possible to Baker street, minus the spelling errors; which you dismissed he messaged while being in trouble… You dropped anything you where doing and hurried outside to hail a cab; to take you to 221B.
The moment the cab halt, you paid the driver and rushed up the stairs to find Sherlock with John sitting towards each other with notes attached on their foreheads and from the liquor in their hand; you could probably tell, that they had too much for this evening, with how wasted they are…
As you gasped for air, you let yourself drop on the doorframe, drawing the attention from the two men. You noticed a smile spreading on Sherlock lips the second his eyes where on you, but it wasn’t a fake one; it radiates warmth like he was pleased to see you came, which was unlike for Sherlock to do. Not that he can’t do it, but when he does; it’s either false ones that you can tell apart from the real, since the real ones are rare and shows how comfortable he is with someone, that he shows it; unlike the fake ones, where he drops his smile immediately the moment the person turns they face away from him; which you noticed a few times…
A giggle from John broke the awkward silence in this room. You turned your gaze to the doctor and raised an eyebrow at him.
“I kneeeeeeeew it!” he exclaimed, pointing to Sherlock, then he took a sip from his drink.
You furrowed your brows in further confusion, but shaking your head; you got your phone out of your pocket and wrote Mary; telling her she should pick up her drunken fiancé… Just as you were done writing the text; a client walked into the flat and asked for Sherlock; but you kindly explained she should come tomorrow, since it gotten late. It made you wonder if clients show up at any hour of the day…
Sherlock, of course…He protested that the client shouldn’t leave even after the client had already left. After all, who knows? It could’ve been a missed opportunity for a case that could have gotten his interest; but you simply pushed him back in his armchair when he tried to stand up.
“You can work tomorrow…Now you better rest, so you’ll be sober for the next day…”
He stared with a sharp glare, like he wanted to prove with some deductions he’s capable of working, but he faltered instantly; which you took as a sign that he gave in. When you turned to help John downstairs; where Mary would pick him up; still you felt his eyes bore onto you.
As Mary left with John; she gave you an apologetic glance before they got into a cab; leaving you to deal with a drunken Sherlock.
When you stepped through the door, Sherlock sat still in his armchair, his posture relaxed; his eyes on something. You never saw him resting like that, but it most likely came from the alcohol…
His eyes wandered to you, noticing you were present again. There was this again…
This warm smile.
“Well…let’s get you sobered up…” you mumbled, leaning your hand on his shoulder to animate him to standing up, which he didn’t and instead, he took your hand in his own; staring at it like it was a piece of art.
“You have such soft hands...”,he murmured, keeping his eyes on your hand; rubbing his thumb along your palm.
You gently withdrawn your hand feeling the a heat rise on your cheeks; before you could say something again that he needs to rest, he slowly stood up wobbly on his own; leaning his hand your shoulder for support.
With you by his side, you brought him to his bedroom and only helped to remove his shoes and his suit jacket. It didn’t need to get more awkward than it already was for you.
Just as you turned the night light off and wanting to head to the living room; you felt your hand taken again and a warm feeling on it. You peeked over your shoulder; seeing Sherlock lean his cheek on it, with his eyes closed.
You tried to withdraw your hand, but at the same time, you didn’t mind it much. So, you stayed for a while and heard Sherlock snoring softly.
**********
The next morning you were preparing some tea and some water with some painkillers. You assumed he'll have a headache after yesterday…
Just as you wanted to get your stuff from the couch and leave for your own flat; you heard a door open followed with some footsteps.
“Morning.” You greeted him with a smile, which disappeared the moment you thought about yesterday again... It made you wonder if he remembered his drunken behavior or if he ‘deleted’ it from his ‘hard drive’.
Sherlock acknowledged you with a slight nod and went for the water and painkillers.
You watched him silently drink the water but felt uncomfortable for you staring at him. So you thought it was better to go. As you took a single step; Sherlock called your name, drawing your attention back to him.
“About yesterday-“
You interrupted him, holding your hands up in defense; ”No! It’s alright…I know you didn’t mean that…“
Sherlock stared at you, and you could tell he thought for his next words, as he slowly opened his mouth to only closed it again.
“I..I really like you, and I mean... It”
You raised your eyebrows in confusion from this explanation about yesterday until he added.
“ I mean…I like you more than a friend…”
You froze on the spot at his confession as weird as the situation was you wanted to show him you felt the same, so you got out of your stupor and hugged him. It definitely caught him by surprise.
“Do you…feel the same?” he asked cautiously.
You only nodded and said while chuckling; “Yes.”
Sherlock hummed in thought. “I might have to thank John for this…it was his idea to text you…”
You thought again before you slowly connected the dots about yesterday. Like when John said he knew it…Did he see that you liked Sherlock or Sherlock, you or even both? You shook the thoughts away since they didn’t matter anymore. The only thing what mattered…
…was now.
#sherlock x reader#sherlock holmes x reader#bbc sherlock#sherlock bbc#sherlock x you#bbc sherlock x reader#bbc sherlock holmes#bbc sherlock holmes x reader#sherlock x y/n#sherlock holmes x y/n
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Imagine Sherlock constantly barging into your apartment…
The key turned in the door as the locked clicked to allow you passage into your apartment. Pulling the groceries into the room, you were busy thinking of which bags held the frozen items when you looked up and saw the calamity being conducted inside by the detective downstairs.
You had told him repeatedly not to enter your home without your consent and most certainly, not to touch anything!
“It’s like you get a kick out of pressing my buttons.” You asked, setting the bags down at your feet.
Your favourite clock had been taken off the wall and dismantled. The books were scattered along the tables and floors and Sherlock appeared to have taken creative liberty with your mantelpiece decor.
Shaking your head, you had had enough. “I can’t do it anymore - you win. I’m moving out.”
Sherlock, not expecting that to be the response, frowned. “What?”
“Moving out.” You repeated. “It’s clear that you hate having me around. I thought that staying here would be nice - that it would be easier to consult with you on cases but obviously not.”
You grabbed your coat from the back of the chair and moved in the direction of the door.
“I don’t come here because I don’t like you. In fact, it’s quite the opposite.” Sherlock said.
Stopping what you were doing, you turned around. Sherlock was now looking at you. His face harbouring a light smile.
“I enjoy spending time with you and yes, sometimes I irritate you and disrupt your life but it’s because I don’t know how to ask for your company.”
~ More imagines here ~
#theladyofmanyfandoms#theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction#gif is not mine#sherlock imagine#sherlock x reader#bbc sherlock x reader#bbc sherlock imagine#bbc sherlock holmes imagine#Sherlock Holmes x Reader#bbc sherlock holmes x reader#sherlock holmes imagine
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Last Updated: 2024-02-06
Disclaimer: I am not the author of these stories, just sharing my favourite BBC!Sherlock Holmes stories. Find the authors' links below. If you want your work removed, message me privately.
Legend: 〔E〕 ⇢ Erotic/Steamy | 〔F〕 ⇢ Fluff | 〔A〕 ⇢ Angst/Hurt 〔M〕 ⇢ Minor Angst/Hurt | 〔C〕 ⇢ Comfort | ♥︎ ⇢ Established Relationship | 𑁍 ⇢ Pregnancy/Children | 🚫 ⇢ Content Warning
✑ A Week Early￨Prt. II￨Prt. III by prettyxlittlexwriter • 〔F᜶C〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •
Summary: You and Sherlock are having your first children; who've thought the famously emotionless detective would be such an anxious father.
✑ A Little Love and Lots of Laughs by eurusholmmes • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •
Summary: "It's been five years since you met Sherlock Holmes, four since you fell in love, and three since you married. [Now], you have [two children] who... happen to love picnics, swimming and spending time with their cousin Rosie and Uncle John."
✑ Absence of You by lykaonimagines • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: "[You're] away on a mission…, leaving Sherlock to wrestle mentally with his importance in [your] life and how badly he wants [you] home."
✑ Always Attract by luxwritesfanfic • 〔F᜶M〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: "The strobe lights won't stop blinding him and Sherlock can't seem to shake the feeling that he's missing out, until he realizes he isn't."
✑ Bedside Manner by luxwritesfanfic • 〔F᜶A〕 •
Summary: "Sherlock figures out who the father is and [a cat's got your] tongue."
✑ Brother, Annoying Brother by magicalthoughtsendinterriblefics • 〔F〕 •
Summary: Sherlock's, once again, struggling to express feelings, refusing to admit he fancies you. Luckily, Mycroft knows just how to get him to confess.
✑ Champagne Problems by leftperfectionmoon • 〔A᜶C〕 •
Summary: reader turns down her boyfriend when he proposes to her as she has been in love with sherlock all this time.
✑ Closed for Today by coppercatswrites • 〔F᜶C〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: Sherlock closes shop to take care of you while you're sick.
✑ Come Home by lykaonimagines • 〔A〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: Following Mary's death, Sherlock sent you away to prevent you from stopping him from doing what he felt he had to do to save John. However, now that you're back and has all the details, you're not sure your relationship can survive it.
✑ Don't You Dare Say "I'm Sorry" by prettyxlittlexwriter • 〔M〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •
Summary: "Sherlock Holmes had sparred with many an intimidating nemesis. He'd faced off against the most fierce, twisted, cold, hard, calculating, fearful opponents known to man, however none of adversaries that had come before had invoked such terror and panic as the one he was currently staring down."
✑ Exact Opposite by lykaonimagines • 16+ • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: "When his brother still refuses to get dressed and take the case he has for him seriously, Mycroft calls [you in] to handle the situation."
✑ Expectant by magicalthoughtsendinterriblefics • 〔F᜶M〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •
Summary: "[You're] acting strange, and Sherlock notices. [After] confessing the truth and... He struggles to find the words."
✑ Feeling is Mutual, the by classickook • 〔F᜶A〕 •
Summary: "You've been harbouring a crush on Sherlock for quite some time now but are determined to keep it a secret for as long as [possible]. Foolish of you to think he wouldn't figure it out... and maybe he'll even return your sentiment?"
✑ Game is On, the by classickook • 18+ • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: "You have a little surprise for Sherlock that turns out differently than you had originally planned."
✑ Headache by bewarethecrazyperson • 〔F᜶C〕 • 🚫 •
Summary: "...While it was rare for you to get a proper headache, it wasn't unfamiliar for you or the boys when one resurfaced. They usually let you be, knowing that rest, medication and sleep would usually take care of the problem. [However,] what happens when you accidentally take one of Sherlock's pills?"
✑ Holmes, the by magicalthoughtsendinterriblefics • 〔F〕 •
Summary: When Sherlock's parents invite you to dinner, mistaking you for his girlfriend, it pushes their son to finally tell you how he feels.
✑ If You're Shy (Let Me Know) by classickook • 18+ • 〔E᜶M᜶F〕 •
Summary: "When Irene won't stop teasing you about your lack of experience, Sherlock comes to your defence and maybe even proves the woman wrong."
✑ Ignorance and Lunch Dates by thepokyone • 〔M᜶F〕 •
Summary: "Sherlock was clever. Everybody knew that - especially you, considering you had been friends with him since high school. Being friends with Sherlock had its pros, but it also had its cons."
✑ Jealous? by prettyxlittlexwriter • 〔F᜶A〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: {…}
✑ Jealous, Love? by annesthaeticc • 18+ • 〔E᜶F〕 • ♡ •
Summary: "Sherlock Holmes doesn't get jealous. Well, that was until you volunteered to help him out on a case that puts his feelings for you in jeopardy."
✑ Kidnapped by prettyxlittlexwriter • 〔A〕 • ♥︎ • 🚫 •
Summary: {…}
✑ Kissing Advice by imagine-by-susu • 〔A᜶C〕 •
Summary: When Irene taunts Sherlock with his sexual inexperience, the detective seeks out your advise on the matter. However, the situation does go quite how Sherlock hoped…
✑ Let's Have Dinner￨Prt. II by classickook • 〔A〕 •
Summary: "as Sherlock's neighbor and friend, you've spent quite a bit of time with the detective and developed feelings for him. unfortunately for you, however, his heart belongs to another."
✑ Make Up by magicalthoughtsendinterriblefics • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: Although you never enjoy fighting with Sherlock, you love making up afterwards.
✑ Men by imaginesbyella • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: "You work at the MI-6 Headquarters for Lady Smallwood. You love your job, but one day someone shows up and things get a little bit weird."
✑ Nicknames by leftperfectionmoon • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: "4 times you used nicknames for Sherlock."
✑ On Edge￨Prt. II by magicalthoughtsendinterriblefics • 18+ • 〔E〕 •
Summary: "Sherlock has no cases and John forbid him to smoke... [leading] Sherlock to find other ways to take out his frustration and, at the same time, showing [you] what it's like to be on edge."
✑ Other Woman, the by magicalthoughtsendinterriblefics • 18+ • 〔F᜶A〕 •
Summary: {…}
✑ Puppy Luv by annesthaeticc • 〔F᜶C〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: "While on a case, Sherlock Holmes stumbles upon a new friend… He brings her home, and fluff ensues."
✑ Rest of Our Lives￨Prt. II by lykaonimagines • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: "Sherlock returns home late after a week long case, and contemplates the current state of their relationship."
✑ Safe Space by lykaonimagines • 〔A᜶C〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: "During an argument over one of Sherlock's experiments, [you realize] some events in his life have impacted him more than he usually let on."
✑ Sentiment by goldencherriess • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: "Sherlock finds himself entranced by Lestrade's best friend and co-worker."
✑ Tipsy by magicalthoughtsendinterriblefics • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: When John and Sherlock return to the flat, absolutely smashed, it's up to you and Mrs. Hudson to ensure they're looked after.
✑ Waltz by magicalthoughtsendinterriblefics • 〔F〕 •
Summary: {…}
✑ White Lillies by leftperfectionmoon • 〔F〕 •
Summary: You mistakenly confess you feelings to Sherlock, as it happens his reaction is rather sweet.
✑ Woman, the by magicalthoughtsendinterriblefics • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: "[You] enters 221B and instantly notices the smell of another woman's perfume. [You realize] it's Irene Adler who is [trying] to convince Sherlock that she is a better woman for him."
✑ Woman Who Was No Lady, the by whereiputtheotherstuff • 〔F᜶A〕 •
Summary: A tense conversation with Irene Adler makes Sherlock realize something extraordinary about you.
✑ Why Do I Want to Do This Again
✑ You Don't Know Him Like I Do by classickook • 〔C〕 • ♥︎ •
Summary: "You're sick and tired of constantly hearing insults thrown at Sherlock about how he handles his emotions."
✑ Your Stupid Face by gaitwae • 〔F〕 •
Summary: "Sherlock is too proud to admit to anybody he likes you, but John knows."
✑ Affirmation by eurusholmmes • 〔A᜶C〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ All Day by classickook • 〔E᜶F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Announcement, the by writings-of-a-british-fangirl • 〔M〕 •
✑ Another One!? by imaginesbyella • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •
✑ Bad Day by oneshots-imagines-and-that • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Bagels by grace-writes-shit • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •
✑ Birds and Bathtubs by deerstalkersanddangerousthoughts • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Blissful Morning by writings-of-a-british-fangirl • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Boring Days, the by thepokyone • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Cuddling? Cuddling. by writings-of-a-british-fangirl • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Dating and Doctors by writings-of-a-british-fangirl • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Emotions and Experiments by writings-of-a-british-fangirl • 〔F〕 •
✑ Enjoy the Show Brother by magicalthoughtsendinterriblefics • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Fatherly Advice by imaginesbyella • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ F*ck It by coppercatswrites • 18+ • 〔E〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Jaw Kisses by eurusholmmes • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Keep Breathing by eurusholmmes • 〔F᜶C〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Lust by geeks-universe • 16+ • 〔E〕 •
✑ Lying Detective, the by deerstalkersanddangerousthoughts •
✑ Made for Each Other by leftperfectionmoon • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Measurements by classickook • 〔C〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Morning Light by lykaonimagines • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Never Stood a Chance by luxwritesfanfic • 〔E᜶F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ New Family by magicalthoughtsendinterriblefics • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ No Flirting by leftperfectionmoon • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Not on the Couch by imagine-by-susu • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Our First Kiss by eurusholmmes • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Our Little Game by justauthoring • 〔F〕 •
✑ Psychology of Cute by oneshots-imagines-and-that • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Resurrection by moonlightsong • 〔A᜶F〕 •
✑ Rewritten Memory by gaitwae • 〔F〕 •
✑ Safe in Your Arms by classickook • 〔F᜶C〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Stressed by generallynerdy • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Tease by classickook • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Tell It Like It Is by prettyxlittlexwriter • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Texting by imaginesbyella • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ These Words Of Mine by eurusholmmes • 〔A〕 •
✑ Thinking Out Loud by grace-writes-shit • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Wedding Day by prettyxlittlexwriter • 〔F᜶C〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Why Did You Kiss Me? by writings-of-a-british-fangirl • 〔F〕 •
✑ Babysitting Rosie w/ Sherlock... by writings-of-a-british-fangirl • 〔F〕 • 𑁍 •
✑ Being Sherlock's Pregnant Wife... by tessimagines • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ • 𑁍 •
✑ Cuddling w/ Sherlock... by spilledkauffie • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Dating Sherlock Holmes... by spilledkauffie • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
✑ Getting into Trouble w/ Sherlock... by geeks-universe • 16+ • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •
See Also: Navigation || BBC!Sherlock Master Index
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#Sherlock Holmes x Reader#Sherlock Holmes x Female Reader#Sherlock Holmes x Y/N#Sherlock Holmes x You#Sherlock x Reader#Sherlock x Female Reader#Sherlock x Y/N#Sherlock x You#BBC Sherlock x Reader#BBC Sherlock x Female Reader#BBC Sherlock x Y/N#BBC Sherlock x You#Benedict Cumberbatch x Reader#Benedict Cumberbatch x Female Reader#Benedict Cumberbatch x Y/N#Benedict Cumberbatch x You#BBC Sherlock Fanfiction#BBC Sherlock Fanfic#Benedict Cumberbatch Fanfiction#Benedict Cumberbatch Fanfic
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Sherlock x reader - my type
Hello, how are you mate, could you do a fic where reader is a pretty young lady with lots of male admirers and Sherlock thinks she’s out of his league. But he didn’t knew she was actually into him. Thanks! - Anon💜
Walking into flat with you looked around for your older brother but you couldn’t find him anywhere, but you did find his flatmate.
“Hey Sherlock, have you seen my brother?”
Sherlock looked up from the laptop.
“John isn’t here?”
You smiled a little, shaking your head at him and you walked over to him, leaning over the back of Sherlocks chair, you looked at what he was doing.
Sherlock glanced at your arm next to him but he said nothing about it.
“Why are you looking for John?” He asked.
“He was supposed to come to the shopping centre with me.”
Sherlock nodded his head and carried on scrolling through whatever webpage he was looking through.
It was silent for a moment.
“Come with me.” You said.
“Why?”
You smiled a little and walked back around the chair, placing your hands on your hips as you looked at him.
“Because I want you to come, it’ll be fun!”
“I’m busy.”
“No you’re not don’t lie to me Sherlock Holmes. Come on! Do you really want to leave a lady walking around the city alone?”
Sherlock went back to looking at the laptop and you huffed a little.
“Please Sherlock? I don’t wanna go alone.”
Sherlock sighed, closing the laptop.
He stood up and grabbed his coat and you beamed brightly at him as your an down the stairs.
“Thank you Sherlock!”
He complained the whole way to the shopping centre, but he went wherever you went even if he didn’t want to.
You were in a store looking for new tops and jackets, and Sherlock stood looking around.
He noticed how a lot of men would stop and look at you and he furrowed his brows slightly.
Sherlock looked at you.
You didn’t even seem to pay the other men any attention, you simply went about your business shopping for what you wanted.
“Hey beautiful, wanna grab a drink later?”
You looked up at the unknown man and blinked.
“Not interested.”
You walked away, grabbing Sherlocks arm so he would follow you.
“This is why you didn’t want to come alone.” He said.
“Yeah, John usually scares them away.”
Sherlock nodded his head and looked at the red shirt you were looking at.
“That’s not your colour. Here.”
He reached out and handed you a light blue version of the top and you smiled slightly.
“Thanks.”
You happily went to pay for everything, and started wondering again.
Sherlock noticed more and more men trying to hit on you, some offering to get you lunch, pay for your things, take you out.
You declined them all, but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt him slightly.
Sherlock wasn’t one for human emotions.
But you were beautiful, even he had to admit that. You seemed to have a sort of glow about you thay no matter where you were he could easily pick you out in a crowd.
You were absolutely stunning, he was sure if you wanted too you could’ve been a model.
And even though you declined the advances of other men it hurt him they had the courage to hit on you when he didn’t.
He didn’t know how.
But not just that, he was certain that there was no way you would date someone like him. He was sure of that.
He sighed softly, and glanced at you, seeing you stopping by a small bakery.
“Are you hungry?” He asked.
“A little. I just want to look.”
Sherlock nodded and gestured for you to go in, and he followed you, watching as you showed interest in different things.
“I’ll be out in a moment.”
“Okay!” You beamed.
Sherlock went back around and gathered a few of each thing you seemed to like or he knew you liked and brought them.
Walking outside, Sherlock held the bag out to you.
“Sherlock?”
“Well take it then, it’s for you.”
You took the bag and looked inside.
“Aw Sherlock you didn’t have to!”
“You wanted them and couldn’t make up your mind, so I got them all. Are we done shopping?”
You looked up at him and you smiled softly, nodding your head.
“Yeah, we can go home now.”
You got a cab back to the flat with him and happily skipped up the stairs, and you sat on the arm of his chair.
Sherlock walked over and sat next to you, and you held out the bag of baked goods.
He looked up.
“They’re yours.”
“And I want to share with you.”
“Thank you.”
Sherlock took one and you smiled, leaning against him and he couldn’t help the fact his heart skipped a beat a little.
“So, why did you turn down all of those men?”
You hummed a little.
“They’re not my type.”
“You have a type?”
You nodded.
“Oh yeah. Tall, brown messy hair, blue eyes, really smart but kinda oblivious to normal emotions, lives with my older brother and he buys me food from the bakery.”
You jumped up and beamed brightly at him, giving him a wink you grabbed your stuff and ran away while he sat there processing what you said
#bbc Sherlock#bbc sherlock x you#bbc sherlock x reader#bbc Sherlock imagine#Sherlock Holmes#sherlock holmes x reader#Sherlock Holmes x you#sherlock holmes imagine
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First Kisses; BBC Sherlock
Includes: Sherlock, John, Mycroft, Lestrade, and Moriarty.
Sherlock:
It wasn’t rare for Sherlock to come out with the strangest things, but there were times when his requests were so unexpected that one would choke.
“I need to test out a theory,” Sherlock broke the silence between himself and Y/N one day.
“…Okay?” Y/N replied simply, preparing to tell Sherlock that he can’t put a head in the microwave again.
“I require your help.”
That was odd, he rarely ever trusted someone else to help him with an experiment, not even John.
With a raised eyebrow, she responded. “How so?”
“You need to kiss me.” Whilst his words were as blunt as always, Y/N couldn’t help the way that she choked in surprise, all whilst he rolled his eyes. “It is not that serious, Y/N. I simply need to see if it solves these thoughts.”
“These thoughts?” Came her confused response, watching him as he walked towards her seat on the chair opposite him.
“That is what I said, yes. Do keep up.”
Rolling her own eyes, she stared up at the detective who had an impatient look on his face.
“I mean, okay? If that’s what you want.” He smirked slightly at her attempt to seem nonchalant at his request; he didn’t expect her to actually do it.
“I just need to see if t-“He began speaking, only to have his sentence cut short by her lips pressing against his own.
Sherlock’s eyes widened as her hand gently gripped his cheek as kissed him. He was frozen in place, heart racing, and chest heaving once she pulled away.
“Did that help?” She asked, looking up at the startled and silent man as she seated herself back where she was previously. She waited for a few more moments to see if he would respond before giving up. “Anyway, I need to get going. Tell John I said hello whenever he returns.” Y/N said as she reached the door, Sherlock still frozen in place, at least, until the door clicked, and he snapped out of his haze.
“Hey, Y/N, wait!”
John:
Despite his initial dislike for the youngest Holmes sibling, John couldn’t deny the feelings that he had grown for Y/N Holmes over the past few months. It was obvious to everyone besides the woman herself who was, unlike her brothers, oblivious to any and every sign of affection towards her.
It was just the two of them in 221B going through the latest case files whilst Sherlock attended a crime scene. He had originally asked John to accompany him, but the man refused after realising that Y/N was remaining at the flat, something at which Sherlock simply rolled his eyes, having already deduced his friends crush on his sister long before he even knew himself.
It was a trickier case than usual, hence why Sherlock had to return to the crime scene, leaving John and Y/N to search through mountains of files looking for one specific word.
“This would be so much easier if these files were all on a computer.” Y/N yawned, flipping the page over to the other side, John doing the same.
“Agreed.”
“Wait, this might be what we’re looking for!” The woman shot up onto her feet in excitement, turning the paper towards John and pointing at what she was looking at with a smile which was soon returned as he agreed.
In excitement, Y/N’s arms wrapped around John, and she pulled him in for a hug, only to pull away once she realised what she had done.
“I’m so sor-“ she began, only to be silenced by John wrapping his hand around the back of her neck and pulling her into him for a moment, lips pressed against each other.
“Finally,” a deep voice sounded from the doorway, making the pair pull back away from each other in both shock and embarrassment. “Now if you two lovebirds are quite finished, what have you found?”
Lestrade:
It was odd for Greg to enjoy working with Sherlock.
Whilst he didn’t mind John’s company, Sherlock was an absolute nightmare, but their friend on the other hand, Y/N, she was wonderful and Lestrade could not get enough of her.
She was everything that Sherlock wasn’t. Kind, sweet, funny, genuine, and it came as no shock to him, or anyone else for that matter, when he began developing feelings for her. However, despite how obviously reciprocated his feelings were, the man refused to believe that she could ever like him back, even after Sherlock himself told him that she likes him too.
The two had become fast friends, having clicked as soon as they met, and a friendship with Lestrade meant coffee. All the time. Coffee was his favourite time of the day, especially if there were doughnuts involved.
“Your coffee is in the kitchen.” Y/N called as Greg let himself into her apartment, a common occurrence amongst the two, and he shot her a thumbs-up as he passed her to grab his drink.
“Thank you very much.” He grinned, taking a seat beside her on the sofa and turning his attention to the football for a moment. He knew she had no interest in the game, so why she had agreed to watch it with him, he didn’t know.
“It’s no problem, Greggy.” She teased him with the new nickname, one that always earned a blush from the older man.
“Do you have to call me that?” He muttered, both his cheeks and ears tinted red in embarrassment.
“Yep!” She smiled, pinching his cheek as he continued to stare at her, or, more specifically, her lips as she licked them.
He knew he shouldn’t have done it, but he couldn’t resist. He leaned over, his hand resting on top of hers, and pressed his lips against hers, something which she gladly reciprocated.
In his panic, he abruptly pulled back before registering that she had returned his kiss and began rushing out apologies.
“I’m so so sorry, oh my God, I should definitely not have done that. I am so sorry!” He rambled, previous blush darkening as she pushed himself to the other side of the sofa, disgusted with himself.
“Greg.”
“If you don’t ever want to talk to me again, I get i-“
“Greg.” Y/N repeated his name to try and catch his attention.
“I’m just so-“
Sick of his unnecessary apologies, the woman reached out to grasp the fabric of Lestrade’s shirt, pulling his lips back onto hers, her other hand landing on his shoulder.
“There’s no need to apologise.” She whispered against his lips as she pulled back. “I wanted that.”
Greg, too confused and happy to even register what she was saying, just listened to his brain go oh!
Mycroft:
Mycroft Holmes had two soft spots, his brother and Y/N, the latter being one that he was unwilling to admit to himself, let alone anybody else.
“Morning, Mycroft,” Y/N greeted him as he entered the café, one which he was a regular at; only for her, of course, but she could never know that.
“Good morning, Y/N,” came his simple response as she brought him his usually coffee, having already anticipated his arrival; he was nothing if not punctual, after all.
Neither of you knew how your friendship had evolved into him driving you home once you finished work, but there was never a single complaint heard about it. The moment you ended up at his home, however, that was when something shifted.
It wasn’t uncomfortable, just… odd. Having never been this close to someone besides his younger brother, Mycroft wasn’t entirely sure how to act, especially when the tension in the room reached its peak and your lips ended up pressed up against the others.
It was awkward, as to be expected considering that the older Holmes had never kissed anybody before. However, the awkwardness had its own charm about it, especially when he pulled away with flushed cheeks and immediately changed the subject, ignoring what had just happened for his own peace of mind.
“Should we like, I don’t know, talk about it?” You asked him the next time he entered the café, watching him closely for any sort of reaction.
“Talk about what? Nothing weird has happened recently, nothing at all. Nothing out of the ordinary.” Mycroft rushed out, desperately praying that you were oblivious to the shade of pink that now covered his cheeks.
He had no idea how it even happened, it just… did. Myrcroft was never one for affection, or even friendships, so he didn’t know why he kissed you and even worse for him, he didn’t know why he wanted to do it again.
“If you say so,” you chuckled at his embarrassed demeanour. “Either way, I finish in an hour if you like, wanted to go for dinner or something.”
Maybe he would wait around an hour, not for any specific reason. After all, nothing weird had happened.
Moriarty:
For as long as they had worked together, Y/N and Jim had always flirted with each other.
It started off small, almost unrecognisable, but gradually grew into full-blown flirtations with invitations that were never accepted. Co-workers turned into friends, and a friendship turned into longing, it was just how the cookie crumbled.
The two stared across at one another, Y/N pushing a plate of food in front of the criminal. “Eat it, or I’ll shove it down your throat, do not test me.” She warned, although there no malice in her voice; she just wanted him to eat something for the first time in a few days.
“Do I have to?” He pouted like a young child, earning a giggle from Y/N.
“Yes!” She laughed, leaning in closer. “Or I’ll force feed you it.”
“With your mouth, I hope.”
A blush dusted the woman’s cheeks as an idea formed in her mind, one which would solve many problems, including his refusal to eat.
As she leaned in closer, Moriarty couldn’t resist the joke falling from his lips. “Ohh, are we about to kiss right now?” His words were teasing, he didn’t actually expect her to do so, but as she leaned in and pressed her lips against his, he couldn’t stop his eyes from widening.
Despite his initial shock, he was quick to respond to the kiss, his hands moving to cup her cheeks and pull her closer into him, deepening the kiss whilst one of Y/N’s hands moved to his shoulder and the other to his neck.
“I suppose we are,” were the only words spoken with a cheeky smile before she pulled him back in for a kiss to shut him up.
#sherlock#sherlock x reader#sherlock imagine#sherlock imagines#sherlock fanfic#sherlock fanfiction#mycroft#mycroft x reader#mycroft imagine#mycroft imagines#mycroft fanfic#mycroft fanfiction#bbc sherlock#bbc sherlock x reader#bbc sherlock imagine#bbc sherlock imagines#bbc sherlock fanfic#bbc sherlock fanfiction#lestrade#lestrade x reader#lestrade imagine#lestrade imagines#moriarty#moriarty x reader#moriarty imagine#moriarty imagines#john watson#john watson x reader#john watson imagine#john watson imagines
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Sherlock: *makes a deduction about the characteristics of the killer*
Y/n: *looks at Sherlock with a look of love*
Sherlock: *stops when he notices Y/n is silent* What are you doing?
Y/n: *with an expression of falling in love and a sweet smile* You're smart.. I love you.
Sherlock: *stopped responding and looked at Y/n with a blank expression*
John: *sighing* I think you broke him.
#bbc shows#benedict cumberbatch x reader#benedict cumberbatch#bbc sherlock x reader#incorrect sherlock quotes#bbc sherlock#sherlock reader insert#sherlock holmes x reader#sherlock bbc#johnlock#john watson
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Stressed Out
MAIN MASTER LIST
Word Count: 1.k <
Warnings: Not really any, kind of ooc Sherlock (but who cares)
Author's Note: Finally feeling like I have time to write and that the writing gods have been in my favor. This was a fun little one-shot to write. While I'm still trying to get back into my writing groove, this one shot definitely helped get some of the dust off my creative writing brain. So, thank you @my-dear-sweet-melody for requesting this one. I hope you enjoy it!
You weren’t sure how you’d been doing it: managing the day-to-day lives of two people who also happened to be good friends of yours, assisting Sherlock with cases, seeing things you’d never thought you’d see in your lifetime (both good and bad), juggling relationships, your own well-being and health, and time to relax. Although it seemed like you had less and less time to do the things concerning yourself. You knew it wasn’t healthy, but when you were thrust into the world of Sherlock Holmes, more important things came into play.
Sherlock was the first to notice how the stress was weighing on you. It was a total shock when he casually announced your current state to John. The moment the words of concern were uttered from Sherlock’s lips, the puzzle in John’s mind had been completed. With the help of Mrs. Hudson, the two men began to conspire to make life easier for their dear friend.
At first, Sherlock’s conscious decision to wash his dishes and put them away in the correct cabinets struck you as odd. Sherlock’s mind was usually too busy for such arbitrary tasks, and such magnificent brain power couldn’t be wasted on such a thing. Then came the tidiness of his experiments. You could swear you hadn’t seen a stray finger or eyeball dissolving in vinegar for quite some time.
When you had asked Sherlock about his new behavior, he shrugged it off with some wildly strange research idea he had come up with. You tried to follow along, but your brain began to hurt after a moment, so you opted to believe him instead.
Meanwhile, John took extra care to charge his and Sherlock’s devices. He knew no matter how brilliant Sherlock was, the man seemingly ceased to forget that computers, phones, and the lot needed to be charged via a charging cord and port. On the other hand, Mrs. Hudson made the note to prepare extra tea and biscuits to save yourself the trouble of doing that for Sherlock and John.
Now, you felt no need to question John and Mrs.Hudson’s new behavior. It was in character for them to do small things like that. However, you continued to question Sherlock; he grew tired of it. Why couldn’t you see that he cared for you, too? That maybe he cared a bit more for you than he should. He was growing weary of the excuses he made to your insistent questions when all he wanted to do was throw them up and tell you the truth. Truthfully, the truth was something he insisted upon. Sherlock always found it one way or another. Yet, he could only fib when you had a new query about his altered behavior. Was it hard for you to understand that Sherlock could care? That he, too, could be human?
“Sherlock,” you called as you sat on the couch, pouring over the current case. It was usually your job to organize each thing into its Sherlockian category to save Sherlock his brain power. However, when you opened the file, it had already been done. “Did I happen to organize this in my sleep?” You raised the file and peered at him.
Sherlock felt his mind conjure up the latest lie. Just before it left his mouth, he paused. He got up and marched to the window, where he began to gaze out onto the street below. He couldn’t lie anymore. He had to tell you the truth.
“I organized it,” Sherlock said.
You froze. Something was seriously wrong with the man if he was now organizing his own cases. “Sherlock, you never orga–”
“Why can’t I?” Sherlock’s voice grew tense. His eyes clenched shut, all while his back was still towards you. He wouldn’t dare look at you. He knew if he saw your eyes, he’d crumble and tell you everything, but everything was what you needed to hear. Everything was what he needed to say.
“I never said you couldn’t. It’s just,” you faltered, “…strange.”
Within a moment, Sherlock whirled around. His icy blue eyes began to thaw under your gaze. “I observed you have stressed: Your trousers falling to your hips instead of hanging snuggly on your waist, the dark circles under your eyes that only grew prominent by the day, the growing urge to sleep instead of join Mrs. Hudson for the weekly watch party of the latest soap opera,” Sherlock shut his mouth. He had said too much already; he shouldn’t say more, but his lips moved again. “I wasn’t the only one who noticed, John and Mrs. Hudson, too. We devised a plan to lessen the blow of our–my constant mess.”
As Sherlock spoke, you realized his words were only the truth. You had noticed you suddenly had more time to eat a meal, spend time with your favorite landlady, who was more like a mother, go on walks in the park with John, listen to Sherlock compose his latest piece, sleep, and live life as it should be lived. Amidst Sherlock’s rambling, you whispered, “Why?”
“Because we–because I care you for,” Sherlock choked.
Slowly, you remove yourself from the comfort of the couch cushions and find a place in front of Sherlock. You watch as Sherlock shudders from the touch of your hand on his cheek. “Thank you,” you said as a smile grew. “Thank you for caring when I forgot to take care of myself. Although…”
Sherlock frowned.
“…while I appreciate the sentiment of you organizing your own cases, John charging the computers, and Mrs. Hudson always preparing tea, I’d still like to be able to do my job. After all, the great Sherlock Holmes still needs to use his brain power to solve cases and save the day.”
Sherlock could only smile at that response for he'd give you anything you'd ask. "Of course. Of course, Y/N."
____
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what a lovely inconvenience
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader
Summary: Sherlock Holmes pushes your buttons like no one else. So when a case leaves you stranded in a hotel room with only one bed you worry that Scotland Yard might have a new murder case on their hands.
Word Count: 1.0k
authors note: Writing a different dynamic between Sherlock and the Reader for a change to acknowledge the fact that irl I wouldn't be able to spend more than ten minutes with him before attempting murder.
“Would you please just go to sleep.”
“If you quit taking up half of the bloody mattress maybe I would,” you bit back, pulling at the covers defiantly.
It wasn't often Sherlock left London for a case but when he did he rarely went alone. And given how you were currently sharing a bed with said detective in an oh-so-unflattering hotel in rural Scotland it would seem apparent that you were the unfortunate soul he'd chosen as a sidekick for this particular outing.
The hotel was dull, exceedingly so. The wallpaper seemed ancient, peeling away at the corners and the aged furniture was placed in such a way that it swallowed up the dismal amount of space the room already offered. The entire setup was worsened further by the hotel's location; unpleasantly sandwiched between a bar and a flat complex whose tenants were... vocal, to say the least.
Not to mention the fact that Sherlock wouldn't. stop. moving.
He pulled the cover back harshly, leaving you defenseless against the cold. “Bold words coming from the one that hasn't gifted me with so much as an inch of blanket. Not to mention you've hogged all the pillows.”
“Hogged all the–” you swiveled to face him. “How many pillows do you need?”
“Another one.”
You blinked twice, already calculating how long you'd spend behind bars if you resorted to murder. “Why? Can't fit your ego on the one you've already got?”
At that, Sherlock turned so you were face to face. His glower contended with your own.
“If you must know I need another to block out the sound of your insufferable talking.”
“I can't deal with this.” You tossed back the covers, begrudgingly snatching up a pillow and thin bed sheet, and strode across the room. Sherlock watched as you sprawled out on the sofa, sinking so far into the poorly made furniture it was almost comedic.
There was a beat of quiet. Then another.
“If you're waiting for me to apologize or rush to trade places you'll be waiting all night.”
"I'm sure I'll survive.” you quipped bitterly.
Sherlock, as he'd promised, didn't argue. He grabbed the spare pillow somewhat victoriously, bundled the covers around him, and turned on his side.
Meanwhile, you were already struggling not to admit defeat. Metal springs dug into your back in three separate places, the fabric caused your skin to itch and it was beyond freezing without the bed cover. You would never have described yourself as a particularly proud person, you could admit when you were wrong. But when it came to Sherlock, you'd rather stay on the couch.
Time crawled by agonizingly slow. The red italic numbers of the alarm clock across the room shone through the dark almost mockingly. You'd given up on sleep, the moment the first light of morning seeped through the poorly hung curtains you were out of there. You'd take sitting in the dingey hotel reception alone and tired over watching Sherlock waking up satisfied with his extra cushions and soft mattress as his spoils of war.
“You look ridiculously uncomfortable,” the detective's voice cut through the quiet of the room.
You pulled your excuse of a blanket over your head. “I'm fine.”
You heard Sherlock sigh, followed by the shifting of the mattress. “I can see you trembling from here.”
“I'm sure I'll soldier on through.”
“If it was a point you were trying to get across then consider it made. Now, will you please just get over here and get some sleep before the sun comes up.”
At the offer, you reemerged from your makeshift cocoon like an easily bribed butterfly. “Relax Holmes, if you wanted me in bed that bad you should have just said so.” You spoke the words into your pillow, slurred from exhaustion and dripping with sarcasm.
Regardless, Sherlock was thankful of how well the darkened room hid his blush. He cleared his throat and turned back on his side. He'd been doing an admirable job at keeping whatever it was he felt about you to himself and he wasn't about to undergo the embarrassment of having you find out simply because he spent more than twelve hours in your vicinity.
Briefly noting to never be the bigger person again, Sherlock closed his eyes and prepared to leave you to your self-inflicted misery. Then he heard feet padding across the floor.
The covers pulled back and the mattress dipped as you silently joined him. You stretched out and sighed in relief when the mattress pressed softly against your aching muscles rather than biting into your back. You pulled experimentally at the covers and Sherlock let you gain an inch. But only that.
“Was that so hard?” He asked.
“Extremely.”
Turning over as quietly as he could, Sherlock noted how your back was to him, how the plane of spare mattress between you was so wide you could easily fit another couple there. How you almost hung from the side of the bed. Sherlock wouldn't have called what he felt in that moment guilt, but it was very similar.
“You know, if it truly makes you uncomfortable I can sleep on the sofa for the night.” His offer was genuine and he hoped you picked up on it.
There was a long moment of quiet, Sherlock giving in to the fact that you'd probably fallen into sleep the moment your head hit the pillow.
“I was kidding, you know.” Your voice came as a surprise. “It's more of a hindrance than anything, sharing a bed with someone that kicks in their sleep."
Sherlock smiled in the dark. “Not as much a hindrance as sharing one with a degenerate blanket stealer.”
There was an unfamiliar tone to his voice, one that, had you not been two blinks from sleep, you would have mistaken for humourous.
“You know, you're kind of endearing when you're sleep deprived,” you thought, too tired to have realized you'd said the words aloud.
“Funny,” Sherlock watched as you turned on your side and rolled towards the middle of the bed. Your nose twitched adorably and with the security the dark offered, Sherlock let himself smile over it. “I was just about to say the same thing to you.”
He was certain you were gone now, chest falling rhythmically and lips parting to make way for quiet snores. He didn't blame you, your alarm had woken you early this morning.
You didn't know he'd noticed, of course, just as you didn't know how he noticed many little things about you. Not things of importance, nothing essential he would have to file away in his mind palace. Just simple everyday things that were unmistakably you. Things he recalled not because he needed to but because he wanted to.
There was something about you, Sherlock simply couldn't shake it. But that was a dilemma he needed at least a good night's rest to solve.
He closed his eyes, not so much as complaining when you stole the covers in your sleep.
thank you for reading!
Sherlock tag list: @miraclesoflove @ilovefanfictions @mylovelysnowflake @quentawewe @bakerstreethound @andreasworlsboring101 @doozywoozy @xxinvisiblexx @the-worst-critic @the-queer-dungeoneer @jellyfishbeansontoast @starrykitn @starryeddie @ladymercury8 @themorningsunshine @evelynrosestuff @mywellspringoflife @simp-for-scammanders @Xhz17x @allieberries @kealohilani-tepise
#*gasps* there was only one bed#clichè but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯#also two fics in one night? who do I think I am?#sherlock x reader#sherlock holmes x reader#bbc sherlock x reader#sherlock x you#bbc sherlock imagine#sherlock imagine#sherlock holmes x you#bbc sherlock
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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?''
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
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.''
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
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.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
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.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
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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Playing Games
bbc!sherlock x fem!reader
summary: you and sherlock are stuck in the flat, bored out of your minds. what comes next is surprising to both of you (mostly you).
warnings: 18+, smut, p in v sex, language
wc: 1.2k
a/n: based on a request by @fierytteokbokki! I took a creative liberty or two - not necessarily angry sex, but I hope you still like it :)
It’s been a long four hours.
You’re sitting on the couch of 221B Baker Street, trying to get some work done, but Sherlock is in front of you, pacing and muttering to himself.
“Can you stop that?” you ask him, getting slightly irritated. “I’m trying to work here.”
“I don’t know why John insists you stay here, to watch me like I’m some sort of child!” Sherlock exclaims, turning around to face you.
He’s not wrong. Your cousin, John, took you under his wing until you settled back in after living away, but now he uses you to leave Sherlock and get some alone time. You don’t blame him.
“I don’t know either, but to make this more tolerable for both of us, please, sit down or just do anything else but pace like a wild animal.”
“I just need a case! Something, anything will do!"
“I can’t control that, so don’t take it out on me. I don’t want to be here either.”
“No?”
“You really think a 30-something wants to stay in on a Friday night?”
“I don’t know!”
“Just… quit pacing, and maybe John will be back home so we both can do what we want.”
You focus your eyes back on your screen, but you sense Sherlock is staring at you.
“What do you want?” you slam your laptop closed.
“What?”
“You’re staring?”
“No, I’m not."
“Sherlock, please stop acting like a child! What do you want with me?”
“I am not acting like a child!”
You roll your eyes and sigh, going back to your work, hoping you can ignore Sherlock that way, hoping John comes back soon.
Sherlock pushes your laptop closed.
“Dammit Sherlock!” You look up at him, and he seems pleased with himself. “Are you fucking serious right now?”
“I’m not being that annoying, am I?”
“Oh god,” you say, rubbing your face. “I am not in the mood to do this, Sherlock. Just, leave me alone, okay?”
“Leave you alone? You’re free to leave at any time, y/n.”
“I’m pretty sure John would kill me. He says you need to be supervised, especially when you don’t have a case.”
Sherlock frowns.
“Seriously, what do you want?”
“Bored.”
“Not my problem, Sherlock.”
“You’re the only one here, won’t you please entertain me?”
“You’re an adult, entertain yourself.” You set your laptop aside, standing up in front of Sherlock.
“What do you do all day on your laptop? I’ve never seen you without it.”
“I work remotely.”
“That’s all?”
“You don’t need to know."
“Hmm,” he hums, stepping closer to you.
“I really don’t like you,” you say, moving to walk past Sherlock. As you do, Sherlock grabs your arm. “What?”
“I’m sick of this too.”
“Great, now let me go,” you say, trying to wiggle out of Sherlock’s grip.
“This is fascinating,” Sherlock whispers.
“What now?”
“You’re trying to hide your true feelings.”
“What are you talking about?”
Sherlock smirks, which makes you roll your eyes.
“Admit it.”
“I’ve had enough of you, Sherlock,” you tell him, staring him down.
“We don’t have to play games, y/n. We’re adults.”
“Seriously, just let me go and I’ll leave. I know that’s what you want.”
“That’s not what I want,” Sherlock mutters.
Sherlock is inches from your face, eyes locked with each other. He leans in and kisses you.
You’re taken aback, but the hesitation goes away as he places a hand on either side of your face. You've pushed down these feelings for Sherlock, as he works with your cousin - it didn't seem right.
Sherlock’s kisses get messier, hungrier, and you find yourself touching him in any way you can.
You eventually find the buttons on his shirt, and start to fiddle with them.
“Tell me what you want,” Sherlock mutters into your ear.
“I just want you,” you tell him, colliding your lips with his again.
He pushes his body against yours, and you can feel his hardness under his clothes.
You undo his buttoned up shirt and slide it off. Your hands move up and down his chest, learning his body.
He tugs at your shirt, and you happily comply. It gets tossed somewhere on the floor, but you’re not paying attention.
Sherlock’s hands move down your sides and to your jeans. “May I?” he whispers, his hands on the zipper.
You nod, unable to speak.
Once your jeans and panties are off, he gently pushes you onto the couch, stradling you. He again presses his crotch against you, making both of you moan.
“Just fuck me already, Sherlock,” you whisper, running your hands through his dark curls.
“With pleasure,” he growls, taking his own pants off, tossing them aside. When he removes his boxers, you’re surprised by the size of his cock.
“Sherlock,” you squeak.
“I’ll take care of you,” he says as his tip comes into contact with your center.
You buck at the sensation.
“Good,” he whispers, gathering spit on his hand to lube the both of you up.
His tip gently enters you, and you can’t help the moan that escapes from your lips.
“Oh, I’m not even in yet,” Sherlock says, leaning down to kiss your neck and pushing deeper into you.
“Fuck, Sherlock,” you moan, unable to say anything else.
Sherlock gently rocks his hips, helping open you up.
“You feel so good,” he growls.
You moan in reply, your brain short-circuiting.
His pace quickens, and soon the flat is filled with moans and the ungodly noise of bodies coming into contact repeatedly.
Neither one of you hears the door open.
“Jesus Christ!” you hear John shout.
“John!” you exclaim, trying to cover up but there’s nothing in your reach to help you. In your startle, Sherlock’s dick pulls out from you.
“With Sherlock?” John shouts, covering his face.
“John, I can explain,” you say.
“No, you don’t need to explain,” John says, turning around and walking towards the door. “I will never be able to get this out of my head,” he exclaims as he exits the flat, closing the door behind him.
Sherlock grins at you.
“What?” you ask him, slightly annoyed by his grin.
“I love how we were caught by your cousin,” he tells you as he leans in for a kiss.
You turn your face away from him. “Yeah, well, I’m not in the mood any more.”
“Oh, you’re not?” Sherlock cocks an eyebrow.
“Are you serious?”
“I’m going to finish fucking you, and that’s not a request,” Sherlock says, pushing back into you.
“Fuck,” you gasp.
“That’s what I thought,” Sherlock sends you a sly smile.
“Do your worst,” you say with a mischievous smile.
“With pleasure,” he retorts, starting up his thrusting again.
Only moans come out of you as you have some of the best sex you’ve ever had, and soon you feel your orgasm coming.
“Sherlock,” you mumble between breaths. “I’m close.”
“Keep it in for me, baby,” he tells you.
“I don’t know if I can,” you gasp.
“One more second.”
“Sherlock, I can’t!”
“Go ahead, baby girl,” he mutters against your neck.
You release and almost scream at how good it feels. A few more thrusts more and Sherlock comes in you, gasping.
He collapses on top of you.
“Fuck, Sherlock,” you say, running your hands through his hair.
“You seemed to enjoy that,” he smiles against your chest.
“Fuck,” you say again.
“Do you want to admit those feelings now?” Sherlock teases.
“I’ll think about it,” you smile.
Sherlock smiles and kisses you as you wrap your arms around him and hold him close.
#benedict cumberbatch x reader#sherlock holmes x reader#bbc!sherlock x reader#sherlock smut#sherlock holmes imagine#bbc sherlock x reader#sherlock x reader#sherlock imagine
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Imagine trying to warn Sherlock that Moriarty is free…
The verdict was in - not guilty. You honestly wanted to shake the jury by their shoulders and ask why they had left their rational thoughts at home. The judge slammed the gavel, signalling for Moriarty to be free of his bonds and when you looked at the man, you could have sworn that he winked.
John nudged your arm, reminding you that it was time to follow the rest of the courtroom out. Once the pair of you were out on the street in much cleaner air, John pulled out his phone and began punching in a number.
“I’m calling Sherlock. He needs to know that this maniac is going to be walking about like a free man.”
Giving him a nod, you pulled out your own device. “I’m going to head back to Scotland Yard.”
John instantly pulled his phone away from his ear as it started to ring.
“What? Y/n we need to stay together.”
“I know but I need to set up a protective detail on Sherlock and Baker Street. Moriarty doesn’t care about collateral damage.” You reminded the good doctor.
Pointing at you, John’s expression was stern and serious. “Okay but be careful. I’ll see you back at the apartment.”
You gave the man a brief hug before turning and bolting down the street to hail a cab. Thankfully, the area was crawling with the vehicle you required. Once you had hopped in, you dialled Lestrade’s personal number and hoped with each ring that he wasn’t otherwise engaged. Your heart was pounding in your ears, the traffic felt slower than normal and the phone wasn’t being picked up as if the matter wasn’t of import.
“Come on.” You edged nervously, staring outside at the pedestrians huddled on the sidewalk.
When the signal turned green, the call was answered by the man you had been trying to reach. “Greg? Oh, thank god.”
“Y/n, I just heard the news. How are you holding up?” The detective inspector asked.
“Honestly I’m pissed but we can get into that later. Listen, I need a favour. I need a-“
“You need a protection detail on Sherlock, I know.” Lestrade guessed correctly. “I filed in the paperwork as soon as Moriarty’s trial started and got it fast tracked. It felt appropriate since you, Sherlock and John have thwart his schemes the most.”
You frowned. Something didn’t feel right about the way he was talking about the detail. “And?” You prompted.
“And it got rejected as soon as Moriarty was acquitted.”
You were mad and disappointed - in all honesty, you wanted to scream. But you pushed it all down and did what you could to tackle the problem. Leaning forward, you tapped the driver on the glass to get his attention.
“Yes, dear?” The elderly man smiled.
“Change of plans - take me to 221B Baker Street please.”
“Y/n, what are you doing?” Shit, you almost forgot Lestrade was on the phone.
As the car turned left onto Baker Street, you kept a tight grip on the device. “If Scotland Yard won’t help, I’ll do it myself.” You told your friend before hanging up just as the taxi pulled up to the curb.
Paying for the ride, you made a mad dash to the front door, pushing it open to get inside. It was mostly quiet. Mrs Hudson was running the cafe and it was clear that John wasn’t home from the lack of his coat from the hallway rack.
There was an absence of people and yet you heard teacups being set upon saucers and very low voices speaking. Heart leaping into your throat, you raced up the stairs and burst into the open flat of 221B.
“Sherlock-”
The rest of your sentence died on your tongue, ice running through your veins when you saw the man who had almost killed you and your friends without any remorse standing in the living room.
“Hi Y/n.” Moriarty greet when his eyes laid on you. “I take it that your little bid for a protection detail fell flat?”
He knew and he was mocking you for it. Stepping into the flat, you scowled at the enemy. “I’ve kept my friends safe from you before. I can do it again.”
Moriarty smirked. He moved away from Sherlock and across to you on his way to the door. His eyes skimmed over your features before he inhaled.
“You’re just delectable. Ready to give your life for a man who isn’t ready to return the favour. A pity really.” He commented and walked off.
~ More imagines here ~
#theladyofmanyfandoms#theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction#gif is not mine#sherlock imagine#sherlock x reader#sherlock holmes imagine#sherlock holmes x reader#bbc sherlock x reader#bbc sherlock imagine#bbc sherlock holmes imagine#bbc sherlock holmes x reader#moriarty imagine#moriarty x reader
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