#BBC Sherlock x Female Reader

[asgards-princess-of-mischief]

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

Authors: @annesthaeticc || @bewareofthecrazyperson || @classickook || @coppercatwrites || @deerstalkersanddangerousthoughts || @eurusholmmes || @gaitwae || @geeks-universe || @generallynerdy || @goldencherriess || @grace-writes-shit || @imagine-by-susu || @imaginesbyella || @justauthoring || @leftperfectionmoon || @luxwritesfanfic || @lykaonimagines || @magicalthoughtsendinterriblefics || @moonlightsong || @oneshots-imagines-and-that || @prettyxlittlexwriter || @spilledkauffie || @tessimagines || @thepokyone || @whereiputtheotherstuff || @writings-of-a-british-fangirl ||

#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

[wickedscribbles]

Tempo, Chapter Thirteen

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x AFAB Reader (Second Person Perspective), she/her pronouns

Rating: Explicit

Tags: fluff, illness/caretaking, smut, sub Sherlock, PiV, cowgirl

Word Count: 5K

If you like what I write and can afford to do so, please consider buying me a coffee! It would be much appreciated.

New Year's Day is a quiet affair. John and Mary bring baby Rosamund to Baker Street, and Sherlock is delighted to see her with Karl Popper in tow. Your heart aches in a strange way to see him gravitate towards her, though he seems hesitant to actually hold her in any way. You and Mary are quick to assure him about the durability of children.

The night of New Year's, you'd danced with him to whatever cheesy song they'd had on the broadcast countdown, in your sock feet. You have to lean up to be able to kiss when the countdown reaches zero, and you can feel him smiling against your mouth. Fireworks echo, deafening, all over London. There is nowhere in the world that you'd rather be than in his untidy little flat, dancing to a song you don't know, letting him pitch and sway you like the sea. His lips are your guiding point, his hands the lighthouse.

And you are home.

—---------

Returning to work is the last thing you want to do. The brief respite from your regular onslaught of numbers and accounts has felt far too short, your desk even lonelier than you remember it. But you have bills to pay, a flat to return to, even if you're there as little as possible these days. You'd spent that whole week from Christmas to New Year's with Sherlock, aside from a day where he went home to visit his own parents. Your flat seems miserable in comparison, unoccupied and dull.

There's nothing lived in about it. It's just a place you come back to at the end of the day. Depressingly, it's starting to remind you of your office. With that thought in mind, you stop over at a shop after work one evening and take the time to buy some wall decorations, relieved when it makes the place feel less like a box.

Your lessons, too, are due to resume with the start of the year. Your hands needed time to heal after that moment of self-neglect. Though you'd watched Sherlock perform on your Stradivarius in wonder, he hadn't insisted that you do any of your own practice in your week together.

Unusual, you think. Perhaps that means he's going to double down on your studies after such a long break. You're not sure if you're looking forward to that or dreading it. Bit of both, maybe. You already have instructions to go over all your songs, starting with the easiest and working your way to the hardest.

At the coffee pot Wednesday morning, there's a thick murmur of conversation. At least five people are standing round, preventing you from getting to where you want to be.

That's unusual. And annoying.

"Oh, did you hear?" Michelle pipes up when she spots you lingering in the hall. "God, you're not gonna believe it – the CEO stepped down over holiday."

You feel your eyes go wide. "He – what?"

Someone else nods, eager to chip in. "Just resigned, said he wanted to 'move on to other interests'. Must be nice, eh?"

Eventually you pour your coffee, your mind buzzing. There's no way the CEO would quit. Not when he owned a company this massive. Someone would have to persuade him, threaten him, even, to do something like that.

You think of how he'd grabbed your arm, his harsh voice.

But honestly…you're glad he's gone. Maybe now you can stop holding your breath until the end of every shift. You wonder if Sherlock already knows the news – probably. He's got his finger on the pulse of so much, and –

Hold on, hold on. Did he have something to do with this? No. He couldn't have. Sherlock's a detective, he doesn't go around making threats. And even if he did, he wouldn't be able to budge someone as big as your CEO.

But his brother could.

When you return to your desk, coffee in hand, there's a blank piece of paper sticking out from under your keyboard. As you flip it over, you have to allow yourself a smile.

You're welcome, it reads. A late Christmas gift. –MH.

You decide you do like Mycroft after all. A little.

—-------

Are we still on for lessons today?

A long pause.

Can't, sorry. Case came up. Tomorrow? –SH

Alright, if you say so.

Tomorrow arrives.

Helloooooo

Mr. Brilliant Detective Man

I need you to teach me the violin or rail me senseless, whichever suits your fancy

I'm not in. Does Friday work? – SH

Your heart sinks. He's never blown you off before. And why now? Why would he wait until everything felt almost perfect between you to start this?

You tell yourself he's being honest. That there is some sort of incredible, all-consuming case he's absorbed in, because you know how he bloody well gets. Laser focused on one thing and one thing only, and at least he had the decency to tell you he wouldn't be in.

But then Friday arrives, and so do you, violin case in hand, to 221B Baker Street. There's no sign of Sherlock or Mrs. Hudson, who seems to have resumed her affair with Mr. Chatterjee. Swallowing hard, you hesitate outside the flat, stomach twisting with anxiety.

Okay, calm down, it could be a case.

Or he could be avoiding you.

…Or it could be drugs.

Shit shit shit.

When was his last screening?? You're supposed to be keeping an eye on this, supposed to be watching. In a panic, you pull up Molly Hooper's number, hoping against all hope that she answers. The line rings once, twice, three times.

"Hello?" She says at last, and you could deflate with relief.

"Hi, Molly, so sorry to bother you," you reply in a rush. "It's just, erm…do you happen to have the results of Sherlock's, you know. His screening? This week?"

"Oh, let me see…"

A brief pause. Some shuffling.

"He hasn't come in yet. He's normally in on Thursdays but he put it off. Said he'd be in by the weekend."

You thank her, saying your goodbyes.

Some tiny insatiable overpanicked part of your brain is fucking convinced he is in there right now doing a line of cocaine. It takes everything you have not to kick in the door. Instead you knock, heart in your throat, and let out a heavy breath.

Nothing. Nothing. Then, footsteps. Finally, the door opens a crack, and the face peering out at you is not what you'd expected.

He's ill. Hair untidy, face pale, eyes and nose rimmed red, ill. Looking awful and a bit grumpy to see you standing there. You’re no expert on addicts, but at a glance, he doesn’t seem like he’s been taking anything stronger than the cold medicine you can get down at Boots. Wearing pyjamas and a scruffy blue dressing gown, Sherlock looks like he’s just rolled out of bed.

"It's not Friday," Sherlock says thickly, frowning. (He even sounds awful, all raspy and hoarse.) "Told you. Now bugger off before you catch what I've got, thank you."

"Hey, wait –"

You slide your foot in to stop the door from closing.

"First off, it is Friday," you start. "Second – God, Sherlock, if you were ill why didn't you just say?"

Exasperation sinks into your tone despite your best effort. Guilt creeps over his expression, which in turn strikes the same feeling in you. Even if he’s been keeping it from you, he had a reason. You could do without him stepping around the truth, but that’s something the two of you will have to confront in your own time. There’s nothing to be done about it now that it’s happened except to acknowledge that it has and move on from there.

“I’ve told you,” he continues, though there’s no venom to his tone. “Didn’t want you coming in and catching whatever godforsaken germ’s traveling across half of London.”

“Could’ve said that.”

“Then you would’ve ended up here even sooner. The earlier in the week you came, the higher your risk of exposure.”

“You ought to have known I’d end up here regardless,” you say stubbornly. His motives are sweet but entirely unnecessary. “I’m not afraid of catching your cold, Sherlock Holmes. Now let me in the damn flat.”

With an irritated growl, he steps aside, relenting.

And – oh. The flat is clean. Not in a flux state of untidy/passable, as you’ve known it for as long as you’ve known Sherlock, but clean. Right down to the surface of the coffee table, which is missing its usual rings. All the sheet music seems to be sitting in one folder, pinned under his violin case, and there’s hardly a stray speck of dust in the place. It smells strikingly of lemon disinfectant in here, and you take in a deep lungful. I could get used to this.

“Did you hire a housekeeper?” you muse, craning your neck to peek into the kitchen. It’s sparkling. You’re fascinated.

“No,” he says shortly. “Hard to find any that wouldn’t balk at what’s being kept in the refrigerator, I’m sure.”

“So you just…cleaned. For fun.” You place a hand on your hip.

“I don’t want you to –” Sherlock clears his throat, hoarse “ – don’t want you to get ill. But the likelihood of keeping you away for longer than a week was poor. So. Tidying. It was awful. Do people really do this all the time?” He gestures, exasperated, around the place.

“They do.” You laugh a little. “And yes, I agree. It’s boring as all hell, isn’t it? Cleaning the same things over and over just so they can collect new dust. Then you die.”

“Cheerful way of putting it.”

He has his arms crossed, appraising you from across the room. From the tired, drawn expression on his face, you venture a guess that your first observation wasn’t far off the mark. Perhaps he has just rolled out of bed. Sherlock watches you with light green eyes missing some of their usual clarity.

“Are you alright?” you ask softly. Taking a few steps toward him, you’re amused but not surprised when he backs up an equal amount.

“Fine,” he responds.

“Then why are you keeping away from me? I told you I don’t care if you give me whatever disease you’ve picked up.”

He wrinkles his nose in distaste. “Perhaps you ought to.”

You step forward again, and it feels somewhat like cornering a wild animal. This time, he doesn’t move, though you can see he wants to. Running a hand through already tangled curls, he only watches you, weary.

“Why?” Your tone is challenging. “What terrible plague have you been struck with, oh weary man? Tell me.”

Sherlock rolls his eyes so hard you fear they’ll get stuck in the back of his skull. “It’s a cold, you antagonist. Is it so awful of me to not want you to have one?”

“Is it so awful of me not to care?” You keep going until you’re right in front of him, gazing up at his obstinate, flushed face. “I’ve been worried about you.” Resting your fingers on his cheek, you find it warm. Sherlock closes his eyes. “And I’m just – I’m glad that this is a problem I can help you with.”

“What do you mean?” he murmurs. Then, seconds later, “Oh.”

You say nothing, uncertain if it would upset him to lay out your train of thought right here. He takes your hand in his and laces your fingers through, squeezing, meeting your glance with another guilty expression.

“I see. It was one thing to delay lessons without a given cause, but with what you know about my history of drug abuse, you grew suspicious.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“Please don’t feel the need to apologize,” Sherlock says, his voice sounding somewhat strange with its new rasp. “I should’ve just told you, as you said. Should’ve been honest.”

“Sweet of you to try and spare me, though.”

“Don’t believe anyone’s ever used that word in reference to me before,” he chuckles. “It’s a bit unnerving.”

“Mm,” you hum, burrowing your way into his dressing gown for a hug. Just like his skin, it’s incredibly warm in here, despite the bitter January chill. “Better get used to it, then.”

Sherlock sighs, defeated, wrapping his arms around you. Something deep in your chest aches just to be held like that. You were being honest when you told him you didn’t care if he gave you whatever he had – you’ve been through worse. All you’d wanted was to know if he was alright, and now that you have that confirmation, you’re okay with whatever happens next. And anyway – you have enough paid time off work that if you needed it, you could use it, should anything befall you.

“You look tired,” you tell him after a long moment. “Go back to bed.”

He gives one last protest about you staying here, but there’s almost no energy behind it. As if it’s all being done for appearance’s sake, rather than out of any real desire to keep you away. You watch him curl up under the blankets, get comfortable, and fall asleep almost at once.

Seeing Sherlock asleep is…bizarre. After so long together, you know he’s watched you sleep more times than you can count. Yet every time the situation arose, you’ve always been the first to nod off. Today, though, it seems he can’t keep his eyes open a moment longer. Atop the blankets, you lie next to him for a time, fascinated. He’s folded up on his side in a sprawl of limbs, curled in a loose ball.

His face looks so much calmer. Not burdened with the responsibility of always thinking, judging, observing. Just…at rest. At ease.

“Hey, you stubborn arse,” you whisper, reaching up to brush a loose curl out of his face. “Look at me if you can hear me.”

Nothing. He’s really, truly out of it, mouth open, face pressed to the pillow. His breath soft and deep. As you watch, he wriggles deeper into the blankets before settling with a sleepy sigh.

Okay…good.

“I’m in love with you,” you breathe, your heart thudding painfully against your chest. “As much as I wish I wasn’t. As much as I wish we could just do whatever it is you want. This casual…whatever this is. I can’t. I know I’m in love with you because I’ve been in love before, and I’m scared senseless.”

You blow out a harsh sigh, holding out one shaking hand before clenching it tight. Bracing yourself to keep going.

“Love hurts. Love’s fucking hard. It’s every bit as complicated as you already know it is, I won’t lie and say it’s all rainbows. The last time I loved someone, they…they ripped me apart. I’m still learning how to put myself back together.”

You feel your lip wobble, fighting tears, even as you’re smiling at how stupid you’re being. He’s not even awake to hear this. This little confession is all for you – to help you get this weight off your chest.

“But I want to try again, despite all that. You make me want to try again, even when there are days when you’re being strange or closed off. I don’t care. In the end you’re you and you’re worth it. I love you, and nothing’s going to change my mind. So there. That’s all.”

Thank God, he’s slept through it all. For a few minutes more, you watch him, letting the complicated volley of emotions steep in your heart and in your mind. If only you could work up the nerve to say all that to his face, to fight through the arguments he’d no doubt raise about all of it being too much to handle. Even after John and the issue being laid to rest, you feel like he’ll never try again.

Leaning down, you brush your lips to his forehead. You work carefully to extract yourself from the covers so you don’t disturb him, tiptoe from the bedroom, and close the door. Your plan is to put the kettle on, get comfortable on the sofa, and not think too much about everything you’ve just told your sleeping not-partner. If that’s even possible.

—--------

In the dark of the bedroom, after you’ve left for the kitchen, Sherlock lets out a deep breath. He presses his palms to his eyes, as if to keep all the complicated things he’s heard from circulating in his mind.

This is far worse than he thought.

—------------

It’s early evening by the time the bedroom door opens, and you’re well into a novel rooted from one of his bookshelves. Sitting cross legged on the sofa, you look up in delight to see him emerge, giving him a small smile. Though it’s been odd to spend time in the flat without him, the experience is far from unpleasant. 221B has been a place of comfort to you for some time, and the hours pass quickly.

“Well, look who's decided to join us,” you say, placing the book aside. “You hungry?”

Sherlock shrugs. “Not really.”

You decide not to press him. Instead you unfold from your place, stretching a little, not realizing how stiff you’ve gone from hours staying in one spot.

“That’s alright. Mrs. Hudson dropped off some soup earlier – she knows you’ve been holed up in here ill too, you know.”

He huffs out an indignant sound at that. “Really don’t need her getting ill, now, do we?”

“That we don’t,” you agree. “All the same, she’s dropped off enough supplies to medicate a small army. And mulligatawny.”

“I’ve no doubt – the woman thinks I’m incapable of walking down the street and purchasing my own cold supplies.”

“Well, you know how mums are.”

Sherlock pads over to where you sit – still keeping a fair distance, you notice. The nap seems to have done him some good. At the very least, he looks less like he’s going to fall over at the first lapse in conversation. More alert, more like himself. You can’t help grinning as he hesitates, finally settling at the far end of the sofa, cupping his elbows in either palm. His glance grazes you, up and down, as if even eye contact is something he has to be careful with.

"How're you feeling?" You pick up your favorite mug, the one with the chip in the rim, and take a sip of water. "You look better."

"Bit better," he answers, absentminded. "Tired. Er, sore. Throaty. Annoying cold things."

Still he watches you, saying with everything except words that he'd very much like to slide over and be touching you right now. How stubborn can one man get? Or maybe it's a matter of not knowing if it would be the right thing to say. Either way, it melts your heart, and you can't bear the distance any longer.

“Oh, c’mere, love,” you say, trying and failing to keep the amusement out of your voice. “You’re not the only one who can tell when one of us wants something, you know.”

His face arranges itself into a rather unthreatening scowl. “If you get ill…”

“Then it won’t be anything new to me,” you finish, content as he crosses the distance and settles to recline across your lap. “Promise. I’m a big girl. Pinky swear on it, if that’s what you want.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

You only smile in answer, watching as he turns to get comfortable. He buries his face in the material of your jumper, closing his eyes like he missed being able to touch you so freely. One of his arms snakes its way around your waist, somewhat awkward in this position, and you lean up to help him get situated. You'd forgotten how many positions one has to contort into in the name of physical contact, when it comes to cuddling. Sometimes it's worth it, though.

He makes the smallest content sound, settled there against your stomach, and your fingers reach down to tangle in his hair. Lightly scratching at his scalp, reaching for your phone to scroll through as the minutes wear on, early evening fading into night. God, it feels so domestic it could rot your teeth. Both of you are so at ease with one another without the need to say a word, quiet and calm.

You glance down to see if he's dozed off again only to find him gazing up at you. The look on his face is one of such fierce, gentle affection that you almost forget how to breathe. How long has he been watching you like this? What is he thinking about? Sometimes you have no idea, and that's infuriating. Especially when he can read you so easily at times (yet seem clueless in others).

"Thank you," he says eventually, drawing your attention back after you break eye contact. "For checking in. For – staying. Despite the risk."

"I wouldn't let you stay here sick on your own," you reply at once. "No one deserves that."

A grin, half-hidden in your jumper. "As I keep telling you, love, I'm not dying. It's some hardy variety of London cold being passed around."

A shiver down your spine at love. Slipped so casually from his mouth, like it belongs there.

"That doesn't mean I don't want to look after you. That's what –" the word partners sticks in your throat " – friends are for. We check in on one another."

"I don't see John driving in to chuck supplies at the door of my flat," he jokes.

"No," you muse. "But then again, John doesn't shag you either, does he?"

The air changes, thickens. Sherlock swallows as he gazes up at you, and the look on his face is one of familiar, unspoken need. Even tinged pink with cold, you can tell what he wants to ask for. You've put an idea in his mind, made a suggestion, and it seems that Sherlock isn't quite sick enough to stop thinking about the last week you spent together.

You can't stop dwelling on the absence. Going back to your work, back to your regular life, had felt so much harder without having him there to touch you every day. It'd felt damn near like a honeymoon after so long spent waiting to fuck one another. Over the holiday break, you'd made up for lost time, only to spend the first week of dreary January isolated again.

"He doesn't," Sherlock says, and even in the two quiet words you can hear the change.

A pause. The two of you breathe together, your fingers still tangled in his hair, his eyes bright and begging on your own.

Then: "Please fuck me."

He says it so plainly that it takes you half a second to process the request. You would've expected some stepping around, some stammering. Though his cheeks are dark with a blush, he'd just said it. As if it's something he's been considering long before you arrived. Guess that week alone had given him plenty to think about, too.

"Sherlock…" you bite back a nervous laugh. "Are you sure? If you're ill, you should be resting, and I don't want to –"

"I'll let you do the work," he cuts in. "However you want it. Just – I've missed you, missed feeling you, and with this damned cold I haven't done a thing in ages –"

"You haven't even wanked thinking about me? Aww."

He huffs, frustrated, cheeks still pink. Your glance down tells you everything you need to know about how much he's missed you. His cock strains against the loose pyjama bottoms as much as it can, and you reach down to grab it.

"Alright," you decide, decidedly more than thrilled at the thought of being in charge. "But you have to do as I say, down to the letter. Understand?"

Sherlock is quick to nod, scrambling up into a sitting position.

"Bedroom, mister."

—---------

In what feels like seconds you find yourselves tumbling onto the blankets, the door shutting in a rush as you go. You walk him backwards, somewhat proud that he trusts you not to let him fall, confidently going where you lead. The moment he feels his legs hit the bed, he falls back, hands going to remove his shirt. You stop him with a firm tap to the wrist.

"Leave it on."

Looking somewhat surprised, he does as you say, moving back to make room as you join him on the mattress. You move to lie beside him, entwining your legs with his. He scoots back, breathing heavily, eyes focused on your mouth. This is the point where he'd have his tongue in your mouth, exploring every sensitive place, biting your lips. You can understand why he wouldn't now.

With a pang of regret, you scramble to think of what you could do instead. Eventually you settle on dipping your mouth to the hollow of his throat, delighting when you find that sensitive place behind his ear. His arms come up to wrap around you, hips arching into nothing, tracing delicate circles as you take your time to build the heat.

"Sensitive here, aren't we?" you say in his ear, and he shudders for you.

"Please keep going." His answer is small, his neck bared for you, and you can't resist.

Sliding one hand down to palm his bulge through his trousers, you comply, drinking in the ragged moan when you experiment with scraping your teeth over his neck. Your fingers sneak under his waistband, and he clings to you, trying not to make a sound, all hoarse gasps and shuddering breath.

"Sweetheart," Sherlock utters in a low whine. "Just like that."

"You're not even inside me yet, love," you tease, and his answering groan plays in your mind for the next week.

You take him out and stroke him, sucking lightly on his earlobe with every flick of your wrist. Shameless, Sherlock meets you with his hips, rising off the bed, the sound of it wet and sloppy.

Right as you hear him start to get desperate, you pull your hand away, lifting your hips to take off your trousers and pants. Sherlock stares at you like he's never wanted anything more than he's wanted this, wanted you. By the time you're astride him, you think the look of blazing desire on his face is the most gorgeous thing you've ever seen.

You rub the head of his cock around your glistening slit in slow circles, grinning when he chants your name, begging, pleading. And when you grant your mercy, spreading your folds and taking him to the hilt, you don't think the sound of his voice has ever been sweeter.

Adjusting to the sensation of having him inside you after a week away, you beam down at Sherlock, memorizing the wrecked look written across his features. As if you're holding everything he needs in the palm of your hand, if only you would move, let him have it.

You know the feeling.

"Please," he whispers, rutting his hips forward. "God, please, move, need to feel you, need to come, I – "

Raising an eyebrow, you place your palm flat against the smooth expanse of his hip.

"Need to? Oh, we're being presumptuous, aren't we?" You squeeze around him, knowing he feels it, watching his nostrils flare. "Remember who's in charge."

"You are," Sherlock's quick to answer. "You are, and you're doing remarkably. Once again I've failed to realize how well suited you'd be for a role, and I –" you've started rolling your hips in little, lazy circles, making it hard for him to think " – I'm s-sorry. You're gorgeous when you're being dominant and you have no idea how close I am to coming inside you."

"I think I do," you say wryly. "And you're so pretty when you're lying here, taking what I give you."

"You're going to make me come," he chokes out, the words a blur. "S-so close." His eyes never leave your body, glued to your breasts as they bounce and jolt with each thrust.

"That's the point, isn't it?" Devilishly, you ram your hips down faster, watching his eyes roll back in helpless bliss.

"Oh f-fuck you're going to make me come I'm right there please don't stop don't stop –"

In another flurry of urgent words and whispered warnings, he does exactly that, spilling deep inside you. He tilts his head back, back, collapsing against the pillows with a golden sound of rapture as you ride him through every wave.

When he's finally had enough, you pull off him, crossing your legs to avoid – well. The mess. Or the worst of it, anyway.

"Tomorrow," Sherlock says breathlessly. "Tomorrow, I am going to taste you until you forget what walking feels like. You phenomenal creature."

A quick thrill of arousal shoots its way into your core at that promise. You try not to let it show on your face as you wobble off the bed, leaving him there dazed with his cock out.

"I look forward to it."

—-------

When you’re all tucked away later in the hush of the bedroom, burrowed beneath his arm, you feel him lift your fingertips to his mouth. There’s something familiar about the gesture, and it reminds you of the first time he’d bent to kiss your budding calluses so long ago. It’d made your heart leap then, and so it does now, even when you’ve grown used to him touching you like this. Even when the affection comes easy now, despite his insistence that all this isn’t what you want it to be.

“Your hands are almost healed,” he murmurs, sleepy, gruff. “Why did – why did you overplay? There’s no benefit. You know that.”

You’re silent in the utter darkness, thinking of what answer you could provide.

You hurt me and I needed to take my mind off it. I couldn’t bear a moment alone with my thoughts because they all pointed back to you on the sofa when you couldn’t bloody look at me. I thought I was losing you and I panicked. It was stupid.

“I don’t know,” you say instead, the words bitter in your mouth. “I’m sorry.”

His huff of a sigh is warm on your skin. “Please don’t do it again. I don’t want you playing to the point of pain. Alright?”

“Alright.”

“Good.”

You feel him shuffle closer, pressing his lips to your temple, and a wave of affection ripples through you. Together, you succumb to sleep like that, your heads bent close, one of your arms thrown around his shoulder.

#tempo ao3 #wickedscribbles #bbc sherlock #bbc sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock x fem! reader #bbc sherlock x female reader #bbc sherlock x you #bbc sherlock fluff #bbc sherlock smut #bbc sherlock fanfiction #bbc sherlock fanfic #bbc sherlock fic #sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes x fem! reader #sherlock holmes x female reader #sherlock holmes x you #sherlock holmes fluff #sherlock holmes smut #sherlock holmes fanfiction #sherlock holmes fanfic #sherlock holmes fic

[iamsherlocked1479]

Admit it

Word count: 1.9k words

Description: Sherlock believes that lingerie is pointless so y/n decides to prove him wrong, no matter the costs.

Warnings: 18+, very angsty, BJ, P in V sex, choking, slut shame

A/N: this is my apology for not posting as much hope you like it! But chapter 11 is about halfway done atm.

“I don’t get it!” Sherlock shouted at the television screen, jolting you awake with his movement, you had fallen asleep on him again, which of course he didn’t have a problem with.

“W-what now?” You ask dazed from your sleep

“These adverts look at those women.” He pointed to the ad you had seen thousands of times for a designer company showing off their new lingerie.

“Its just an ad?” You say confused, this is your punishment for letting him get to intrigued in the reality tv shows you watch, his attempt of proving he could be a normal boyfriend.

“Yes but I don’t get why lingerie is so amazing.” He turned to you

“Because its a way to feel pretty, seductive almost.” You laugh

“But you don’t need lingerie to look beautiful.” He added

“You know you should use that line more often.” You laugh

“I really don’t understand society.” He sighed and turned his head back to the screen.

“So you wouldn’t care if i wore something like that?” You ask

“I prefer you in nothing, we both know that.” He squeezed your thigh

“No but its meant to make their partners want them more. A treat i would say.” You thought how you ended up explaining the use of lingerie to your boyfriend who was very much experienced by now in the arts of physical relationships with you.

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“It does.” You laugh “its like when you wear that purple shirt that’s slightly too tight for you” you smirk as his brow raises

“That actually explains a lot.”

“Never mind the show is back on.” You point to the screen

“You’re just going to fall asleep again.” He smiled

“Would that be a problem?” You ask

“Never.” He added, and as usual he was right. You woke up the next morning in you shared bed trying to work out how you’d gotten there but then remembered your conversation from last night, maybe he would like it if you wore lingerie. You hadn’t exactly tried that before, you knew he was probably out on a case so you got dressed with your mission clear. Finding the perfect lingerie to seduce the great Sherlock Holmes, who also happened to be the man who never had physical relationships with anyone, in a physical relationship with you.

You started out with a few common clothing shops with nothing really taking your fancy so you decided it would be better to look in the expensive shops, like the one from the advert. You browse the isles being amazed by the different styles and colours in all shapes and sizes before finally seeing the perfect set.

On a mannequin in front of you was a purple laced bra and panties set. It was almost the same colour as his shirt so you knew it would be perfect, the bra was lace and obviously see through and the panties would fit your figure just right.

It was early evening by the time you got home, and Sherlock’s violin could be heard throughout the apartment. He smiled when he saw you, but didn’t stop playing. It was obvious whatever case he was on was really toying with his mind mind.

“I’m just gonna take a shower.” You yelled not expecting a reply, it was time to put your plan into action. You showered and washed your hair, whilst also performing for the various bottles of shampoo that probably wished they didn’t need to hear the same verse from careless whisper three times over. You towel dry your hair enough so it wouldn’t be dripping wet, without getting too frizzy the next day and slipped on the lingerie. And god it was perfect, there was no way in hell even Sherlock holmes could deny you didn’t look good, you weren't one for loving yourself too much but this made it difficult.

You left the bathroom wearing only the lingerie and Sherlock was still playing, but upon hearing you enter the room he began playing a careless whisper mocking your singing.

“Was I really being that loud?” You laugh

“I’ve heard worse.” He still hadn’t turned around, dam his stupid mind palace.

“So what case are you stuck on?” You ask moving to the kitchen and ignoring the severed human limbs to make tea.

“A soldier was murdered, found dead in the shower, no way in, no way out and no signs of a struggle. Just dead, it appears as if a ghost killed him.” He still hadn’t turned around, god he was arrogant sometimes.

“Would you like a cup of tea?” You ask

“Yes and is there any biscu-.” He stopped and finally laid his eyes on you. Your back was to him, your ass clearly showing.

“Everything okay back there?” You smirk

“W-what are you wearing?” He asked, you could have swore you heard a gulp.

“Oh this little thing? I picked it up today. What do you think?” You tapped the tea spoon on the cup and turned around, he watched your every move as you entered the living room. You place the tea on the table and walk over to him, now he was intrigued. It was time to play your game. “Sit please” you push him back into his chair and he falls back with a huff his eyes scanning every part of your body.

“I- I think its n-nice.” He watched as you teased him moving your hips as you turned around allowing him to look at everything.

“But you see I’m not sure about it, could you have a closer look?” You step towards him, and place yourself in his lap straddling his legs, with your chest in his face, his hands slid up your legs towards your hips, but you pushed them away. “Ah ah, remember I thought you didn’t see the point in clothes like this. In my opinion i’d say they’re pretty effective.” You could feel him twitching beneath you,

“Maybe they are helping a tad bit.” He shuffled in his seat trying his best to do as you said but he wasn’t going to admit you were right.

“Pitty, I thought they were working.” You began circulating your hips, grinding yourself against his growing length, letting out small moans of pleasure. You watched as he gripped the arms of his chair tightly at the sensation of you rubbing against him. You moved your hands to his chest and unbuttoned his shirt. His fingers moved closer to you tracing along your leg, but you stopped your movements and tutted. “Admit I was right and maybe I’ll let you touch.”

He grunted frustratedly he wasn’t one for admitting he was wrong, but here you sat in his lap grinding against him and he couldn’t even kiss you. “Shit” he sighed “fine you were right” you smiled at your win and pushed your lips against his and began moving faster.

“I can’t help myself around you, fuck baby.” He trailed his lips along your neck going in between the crevice of your breast with his tongue, he pulled down the straps of your bra and pulled your tits free. He took one into his mouth, nibbling the nipple slightly while gripping the other with his hand.

You gripped his hair pushing him further into your chest letting out more moans edging him on. You pushed your soaked cunt harder on him, making his cock rub against your clit beginning to causing the knot in your stomach to grow tighter, growing closer to your release. He purred into your chest as your wetness soaked through his trousers, which grew ever tighter with your work. You couldn’t hold it back any longer your hips jolted as you came,

“Oh fuck Sherlock yes, fuck you’re so hard its s-so good.”

“Mmm fuck i can’t wait any longer.” He stood up and carried you through the hall towards your bedroom, his lips still locked to yours as he kicked the door open and carried you to the bed. He dropped you there watching as you knelt below him, wiping the hair stuck to your sweaty forehead.

“Want your cock, baby, I need it.” You whimpered as you unbuckled his belt. You pulled down his boxers and watched as he moaned as you licked a stripe down his length before gently sucking on his balls as your hand pumped him slowly. His head knocked back with a sigh of relief as you reached his tip again, and slowly began bobbing your head down over it, working your tongue around him before sinking down a little farther. You tried your best to swallow around him he helped by pushing himself in gently letting out deep moans the further you got. His hip’s jolted again as you pulled back and worked on the tip again, he was becoming too sensitive and he hadn’t even fucked you yet. He pushed your mouth away and brought you to his gently gripping your throat.

“Don't think I forgot you wouldn’t let me touch you, I won’t let that go unnoticed. I’m going to make sure you can’t walk for a week.” He pushed you onto the bed and positioned his frame over you, he practically ripped off the panties and entered with a hard thrust causing you to yelp and grip to the bed sheets. He pushed hard into you the sound of skin slapping skin filled the room accompanied by your moans, you clawed at his back as he fucked you

“Look at you so cock drunk, you think you can parade yourself around like a little slut in my apartment and get away with it. Do you?” He asked

“N-no.” You whimpered, leaning your head back as your back arched

“No what?” He grabbed your chin making your eyes level with his dark blues

“N-no sir.”

“Good.” He flipped you over and knelt over you, slowing his pace, taking more time to push harder into you. “Now say you’re sorry.” He slapped your ass, hard smiling as a pink gleam appeared

“I’m sorry.” You whimpered

“Good girl, now we can enjoy this.” He sped up his pace and placed one hand under you, his thumb rubbing your already swollen clit. The pulse of you clit sent waves through you as you squirmed, he fucked you hard through your orgasm

“Oh fuck, sherlock just there, thats right!” Your voice was muffled as you buried yourself in the sheets pulling them from the corners.

Sherlock groaned, he loved the sight of you being this way around him, so cock drunk you couldn’t even hold yourself up. He too was reaching his end the way your pussy clenched around his cock was enough to set him off, spewing thick white ropes deep inside of you and collapsing onto you.

He took a moment to cat his breath, his cock still inside you before pulling himself off the bed,

“Looks like you need another shower.” He held out his hand as you turned and sprawled onto the bed

“I can’t, too tired.” You say breathlessly

“I told you you wouldn’t be able to walk.” He smiled while wiping the hair stuck to your forehead.

“Hmm” you groaned as your eyes fell closed. Sherlock fixed the sheets around you before wrapping your body in a cover and allowing you to sleep. He showered before going back to his violin, this time thinking only of you. Though he would never tell you, maybe just this once you were right.

#bbc sherlock #benedict cumberbatch #sherlock holmes x reader #benedict cumberbatch x female!reader #sherlock x reader #sherlock smut #smutty #sherlock bbc #y/n x sherlock #i am sherlocked #sherlockedit #spotify

[strangesthirdeye]

No Way (Stephen Strange x wife! Reader)

Summary: All hell breaks loose, like they said right?

Warning: It's Stephen, who doesn't love him? slightly injured, No Way Home spoiler alert for those who haven't watched it yet, fluff, mention of other injuries, special appearance,

As usual, forgive me if there are any language mistakes or confusing storylines.. also forgive me if there are grammatical mistakes.. English is not my first language

  ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were married to Stephen while he was still working at Metro General Hospital and were with him when he had an incident that made him decide to head to Kathmandu to find a way to recover both hands so he could return to work as a Neurosurgeon. Too much happens as Stephen tries to recover his hands. No matter how much the surgery costs, he still wants to try to get his hands back to normal. And you, with a good heart and a patient person, try to help your husband in all the challenges you both face

So you with no choice decided to follow him to Kathmandu. And that's where all the stories begin and your new life changes. Stephen became a Sorcerer, fighting Dormamu and taking over as Sorcerer Supreme due to the death of The Ancient One and also helping Thor and Loki find their father in Norway.

How about you? well you and Wong became close friends as well as Mordo but it was only for a while because Mordo chose to go and make his own way so it's only you and Wong who still communicate but due to the things that always happen in Kamar Taj, it's quite difficult also for you to spend your time with your husband and friends.

And most surprisingly you and Cloak seem to have become good friends where Cloak will usually go to you if it is bored with Stephen or just Stephen being an ass which is sometimes. And often Cloak will put itself on your thigh like a blanket or your shoulder as if it wants to be pampered. So it's no wonder if Stephen sees Cloak with you because he knows that his relic will surely pamper you like a dog that wants it's owner attention.

But then, you usually spend your time teaching your students online in the library at New York Sanctum A. K. A your new home. So you are always alone and do your own work as a lecturer. Let me say that, you are also studying mystic art but not always because of your work as a lecturer which is often busy and also because of your students who can be said to be quite challenging as if teaching a kindergarten class. But, you still know some simple spells like opening a portal, or making things float towards you. So that's pretty easy for you too.

Oh yeah, i forgot...I haven't talked about Infinity War yet. Yeah, where Bruce Banner falls from the sky and destroys the roof of the Sanctum. sheesh.. there is a lot of money to be spent to repair the roof of the Sanctum but why be surprised? Kamar Taj students can fix it while Stephen, Wong, Bruce and Tony solve this Infinity Stones thing.. plus with you who are still confused about what happened because of this sudden thing.

"You have to stayed here.. it's dangerous outside.. I don't want anything to happen to you, yeah?" Stephen said while holding your face with both hands gently.

"Oh, you better come back safely, Stephen.. I don't want to see any cuts or scratches on you otherwise you sleep outside" you said sternly while frowning as your hands held Stephen's hand which was still holding the side of your face

And the next thing you know, an Alien comes and kidnaps your husband while Ironman and Spiderman come and try to save your husband and that was the last time you heard from your husband.

Welp-that happened 5 years ago.. where everyone in the world experienced a rather shocking situation where almost all life in the Universe turned to dust, including your husband. Lucky for you, you are not one of those dusty people.

But still, for you, half of yourself has disappeared with Stephen. You have started to feel down, you have started to distance yourself from other people.. and only Wong can give you a little motivation to continue living. The moment when the news of your husband's loss came out of the mouth of Steve Rogers who came to the Sanctum just days after the infinity Stones thing happened you started busying yourself from the outside world with work.

You have started working overtime until you forget to take care of yourself. Also, you don't realize that you have lost a lot of weight. And luckily, Wong noticed your change and tried to help you by advising you to eat and so on.

The thing happened for 3 months and that was 5 years ago. And now everyone is back to normal.. but still, the news of the death of Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff still remains in everyone's mind.

" I'm old now" you said in a soft tone to Stephen as you put your head on Stephen's chest after your 'best' night.

"yeah but I'm still older than you" replied Stephen smirked while stroking your hair gently.

"traitor"

( don't ask me about the age..)

 ─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

So! now the real story is about to begin. So you know who Spiderman is because you met him at Tony's funeral a few months ago. And you know that he is a good teenager, and caring and also has a heroic spirit. So for you it is not a problem because you know that every teenager has their own advantages and disadvantages.

And you also understand the side of today's teenagers because you also have students who are quite ok for you and some who are not right with you. But for you it's just ok. You don't even care as long as you can teach them so that they can continue their lives after finishing their studies is pretty good.

But for you Peter is different from the students you usually teach. He is a smart and independent person but sometimes he is a bit clumsy but that is not a problem because some teenagers are still not comfortable with their surroundings. Peter is also a shy person and is quite polite with the people around him. The way he talks is also a bit soft and a little stuttering because he's probably still shy but that's not a problem either because when you get to know him you immediately treat him like he's your child.. after all that's the way you treat kids and teenagers these days.

Back to the story, so the whole of New York is in chaos when the news about Quentin Beck or better known as Mysterio has spread all over New York plus maybe the whole world through his last footage of Spiderman killing him and saying Spiderman who controls all the drones to attack the population around And the most surprising thing is that Mysterio has also spread the identity of Spiderman to the entire population of New York and said that the true identity of Spiderman is PETER PARKER.

And of course you and Stephen know about this from the news that has been playing on TV. You start to feel sympathy for Peter and his family because he has to deal with this situation. And you believe that he is not a murderer or a criminal but just a teenager who was slandered by Mysterio because of his murder. You can feel that Peter's future is threatened by criticism and threats from the media or people around him.

And what happened after this was really beyond your expectations.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"I told you, you should check again.. see what happened now?" you said while looking for a thick sweater in the closet to wear.

"oh please, I've checked ok... but I didn't expect the Rotundas Getaway was connected to Siberia" replied Stephen who was leaning against the door of your shared bedroom while rubbing his cold neck.

You see, Stephen's carelessness has caused the entire Sanctum to be filled with white snow that has been blasted into the Sanctum through the Rotundas Getaway which has accidentally connected with Siberia and has filled every room with snow. ALL THE ROOMS ARE FILLED WITH SNOW.

Coincidentally, Christmas is getting closer which doesn't mean this is part of the Christmas decorations.. In addition, with the growing cold and thick snow, Stephen and Wong wasted no time looking for students who are willing to volunteer to shovel the thick snow in the Sanctum living room.

And the lucky thing is that your shared room isn't filled with snow so it's kind of nice too because it's where you both sleep but that doesn't mean the cold isn't there either. This has been happening for almost 3 days and Stephen and Wong are trying to fix the situation in the Sanctum.

How about you? welp- you also tried to help Stephen and Wong but because Stephen was haunted by guilt, Stephen kept rejecting your offer to help him even though you insisted on helping him too and besides you don't have any class to teach.. now it's the holidays. Of course, your 'lovely' students have returned to their hometowns.

Because you insisted on helping, Stephen finally had to give in and let you help him. So, the more people do the work, the sooner this ends, right?.

"yeah, just 'check' it. Next time check with your eyes, don't just use your mouth." you murmured while sighing heavily and smoky because of the extreme cold.

"aww, don't be like that. Anyway, this thing is under control, I'm sure this situation will end soon." Stephen said and walked over and started hugging you from behind, hoping to add warmth so you wouldn't get cold.

"I know, but still.. next time you must check properly and make sure that there is nothing wrong with what happens next time. Don't just work carelessly, understand?" you said with a firm tone while rubbing both of Stephen's arms.

"okay ma'am," replied Stephen and kissed your hair gently.

No matter how great and brave Stephen is, he is still afraid of his wife. He really can't imagine your angry face. For him that is very badass and at the same time scary. that's what Stephen likes. Yes. The scariest and cutest wife that Stephen adored.

"don't always say ok if you don't even do your work, Stephen" said Wong in his hoarse but firm tone as he was carrying his heavy bags towards the Sanctum living room.

" and where do you want to go? The work here is not done yet" said Stephen loosening the hug and allowing you to walk into the bathroom to change clothes.

" you see, I have things in Kamar Taj for a few days because of my duty as Sorcerer Supreme so I'm not here for a few days until the things in Kamar Taj are finished.. and I want what happened in this Sanctum now to recover and I hope nothing happened as long as I wasn't here, understand?"said Wong while pointing his finger at Stephen.

Wong is really familiar with Stephen's personality and he is already familiar with it. So whatever happened before, he will definitely know who masterminded all that happened, no matter the matter involving duty or a spell that went out of control because all the evidence will definitely be directed at Stephen.

Stephen sighed and walked towards the door of his room and looked at Wong with an innocent face.

"Come on, Wong. Don't worry about all that, besides, nothing will happen as long as you're not here. Everything will be fine," replied Stephen.

Wong looked at Stephen for a long time while raising one eyebrow. He wouldn't be fooled by Stephen's sweet words because he knew that as long as he wasn't in Sanctum there would be trouble. And he also believes that with you being with Stephen, you will definitely keep Stephen under control.

"I don't trust you but I believe that your wife will make sure that nothing happens as long as you stay in this Sanctum and do not do anything related to dimensions or spells or else you will be in a dangerous situation" warned Wong firmly.

"oh please, you know that I-"

"The most famous person in the world. I know. " interrupted Wong without looking at Stephen before opening the portal and then walked across the portal carrying several luggage bags.

Stephen sighed heavily. The bathroom door was thrown wide open by you as soon as you finished changing into a thick sweater. You looked at Stephen confused.

"What's wrong? "you asked before walking up to Stephen with a confused face.

"well- you know that Wong always warns me right? yes.. that's why" replied Stephen before conjuring two cups of hot cocoa for him and you.

"I see.. well, what Wong warned you is true. You have to take care of yourself so you don't get into too much trouble. And you're lucky because I have to take care of you or not, I don't know what will happen in Sanctum later" you replied before taking a cup of hot cocoa from Stephen's hand and sipping slowly. Then, the sweet and warm taste continues to soothe your freeze and dry throat and warm your cold body temperature.

"I'm not a little boy to take care of" complained Stephen.

"yeah.. whatever you say you're still my boy" you said sweetly before walking out of your bedroom.

"I like that sound of that" replied Stephen and walked out of the bedroom and was followed by Cloak who had been at the end of the room from behind before landing on Stephen's shoulder.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Is all this for a holiday party?"asked Peter confused as he looked around the Sanctum's living room filled with snow as soon as he set foot inside the Sanctum.

Wong who wearing a thick sweater placed the last of his bags on the snowy floor before closing the portal and then looked at Peter with a fierce expression on his face.

"No. One of the rotunda gateways connects to Siberia. Blizzard blasted through." Wong replied quickly.

An abrupt swoosh can be heard. Doctor Stephen Strange floats down the stairs through his Cloak of Levitation, holding a mug, wearing a sweatshirt and an anorak. Its blue color resembles his usual mystical outfit. At first glance, it will definitely look like a father who is trying to get along with teenagers.

"Because someone forgot to cast a maintenance spell to keep the seals tight."replied Stephen lazily before he landed on the snowy floor and almost slipped as soon as he landed.

"Don't say that to Wong, Stephen. You should have done the work as Wong told you before" you said slowly going down the slippery stairs due to the snow and ice.

"That's right, because he forgot I now have higher duties. thanks Y/n" replied Wong.

"Higher duties?" asked Stephen, pretending to be confused.

"The Sorcerer Supreme has high duties, yes." replied Wong with a firm yet gentle tone.

Peter who had been standing watching the conversation of the three adults began to interrupt.

"Wait, I thought you were the Sorcerer Supreme?" Peter asked confused as he pointed his finger at Stephen.

"No. He got it on a technicality, 'cause Stephen blipped for five years and made Wong to take over as Sorcerer Supreme."you said with a small smile as if trying to make Stephen jealous. (But then again, he's really jealous but on the inside..wink)

Peter then looked at Wong with a sign of understanding after what you said just now.

" Oh. Well, congratulations." said Peter with his sweet smile.

Wong nodded in thanks. At least, there is someone who appreciates him as much as you. After all, Wong had worked hard during Stephen's absence in the previous year. He also has many services as long as he takes the rank of Sorcerer Supreme in order to protect the universe and this dimension.

"If I'd been here, then I'd-"

"-burned the place down. " Wong interrupted without missing a beat before walking past Stephen and looking at the two students who had been shoveling snow since the beginning "You two, no one said, 'Stop shoveling!'"

With a jerk, the two students continued to scoop up the white snow quickly. Stephen was silent for a moment. Maybe still thinking about what Wong said a moment ago. You looked at your husband who was still silent before turning your gaze towards Peter who had been listening to the conversation between the three of you. Too bad he waited so long. You sighed lightly.

" Steph? " you called softly as you gently patted Stephen on the shoulder.

Stephen jerked and looked down at you. " yeah"

You tilted your head as if to point at Peter who was still standing waiting for his turn to speak. Stephen quickly understood your meaning and looked at Peter with his hand still tightly gripping the coffee mug.

" So Peter, to what do i owe the pleasure?

And there goes to Peter telling him the problem he is facing in the hope that Stephen can turn back the time before Mysterio revealed his identity to the public. It's quite sad, because not only is he the target of the media, but his family and close friends are also affected. Even sadder, Peter was unable to continue his studies at MIT or any other educational institution because his identity was revealed as a murderer.

For them, they didn't want the killer anywhere near them nor did they want him as a student. Even more sad, his best friend and girlfriend were also affected and rejected because they were close friends of Peter. The irresponsible party is cruel and so is the 24-hour media that only wants to make the current situation worse.

"Peter... we tampered with the stability of space-time to resurrect countless lives. You wanna do it again now just because yours got messy?" Stephen said supportively. Yes, he did feel sorry for the young man but, without the Time Stone, he couldn't do anything to help Peter.

"This isn't... it's not about me. I mean, this is really hurting a lot of people. My... my Aunt May, Happy... My best friend, my girlfriend, their futures are ruined just because they know me, and... they've done nothing wrong." Peter pleaded. His eyes began to show sadness.

You who heard the two of them talking earlier started to feel sorry for Peter. Peter is just a boy. He didn't do anything. But, just because of that person's greed and hatred, the hope of a victim is shattered without end.

What Peter went through was too big and dangerous. Because not only the media make this situation worse, but the government does the same. Just because a hero called the Avengers makes a mistake, the government and the people will no longer believe in their safety anymore.

You looked at Stephen with a compassionate face. Begged him so he could help Peter. Stephen looked at you. He really can't go against your look. He knows, every time you give that look. He will definitely lose to you. He is afraid of you but at the same time he loves you. He doesn't care if you don't have magic or work as a university lecturer, he still loves you and obeys you.

Stephen looked at Peter and sighed heavily.

"I am so sorry, but... even if I wanted to... I don't have the Time Stone anymore"said Stephen with a disappointed tone because he was unable to help Peter no matter what the situation. The Time Stone has already been returned to the past so Stephen can't do anything else.

You sighed heavily. "I really want to help you and your friends for university matters, but unfortunately I'm not the person who has the power for university matters.. I'm just a lecturer. If I'm in power, of course I'll help you all. I'm sorry." you said, nodding sadly.

Peter who seemed to have hope began to drop his hope. It's true what they say, Stephen can't do anything if the Time Stone isn't there to turn back time and you're not a powerful person when it comes to the university where you teach. So all the hopes he had started to drop.

Peter nodded slightly. "That's right"

You and Stephen nodded in unison. Peter paused for a moment before letting out a heavy sigh.

"I'm really sorry if I... wasted your time." continued Peter in a tone of disappointment plus sadness.

You and Stephen shook your heads in unison as you waved your hands in the air.

"N-No, you didn't..."

"it's okay, you're not wasting any time"

"It's okay, Stephen.. Mrs Strange"

"No Peter, I really want to help you but I can't do anything about your education. I'm not the one to solve the university thing. But I really want to help you" you said walking up to Peter and holding Peter's hand and caressing his hand as if a mother was persuading her child.

Peter held your hand and looked at you with a sad face but managed to hide it with his sweet smile.. "Just forget about it. Mrs Strange..it's ok"

You looked at Peter for a long time before nodding slowly and letting go of Peter's hands. You then slowly walked over to your husband's side but your eyes were still on Peter. Feelings of pity and wanting to help still open up in you. But if Peter says that, you have to follow what he wants. You have treated Peter like your own son so the feeling of motherhood is still strong inside you. Even though you and Stephen are not blessed with children yet, so it's not wrong if you treat children like your own children, right?

Peter looked at you both and repeated the sentence he said to you again.

"Just forget about it, I think I can manage with what's happening now" said Peter in a tone trying to be strong.

Stephen nodded and sipped his hot chocolate. You looked at your husband with a pitying expression on your face.

"Oh, he will. He's really good at forgetting things." Wong said suddenly as he lifted several bags into the portal.

This causes a temporary enlightenment in the Bleecker Street magician's mind, as he points at his companion. You looked at Stephen and Wong confused as Peter looked at Wong with a frown.

"Wong. You've actually generated a good idea." said Stephen looking at Wong with raised eyebrows.

Wong looked at the Master Of The New York Sanctum confused.

"What?" Wong asked raising an eyebrow.

"The runes of Kof-Kol." Stephen said in a suggestive tone.

"The runes of Kof-Kol?" you and Peter said in unison in confused tones.

"Oh, it's just a standard spell of forgetting. Won't turn back time, but at least people will forget that you were ever Spider-Man." replied Stephen looking at Peter and you while swinging his mug of hot chocolate in the air.

Peter with his hope reappeared. With light up eyes looking at Stephen, he looked at Stephen as if Stephen was his idol.

"seriously? Thank-"

"No. Not seriously. That spell travels the dark borders between known and unknown reality. It's too dangerous." said Wong with a firm tone. He looked at Stephen sharply.

You looked at Stephen and Wong at the same time with a worried expression on your face. Even if you don't know much about magic, you know what Wong warned is dangerous. What the Spell that crossed Stephen's mind was indeed dangerous. It doesn't matter if it's a little or a lot, you keep an eye on Stephen if he uses any spells every time you're with him.

Stephen snorted and looked at Wong. "God, we've used it for a lot less. Do you remember the full moon party in Kamar-Taj?"

The moment you heard those words, you automatically blushed hard and had to hide your face on Stephen's shoulder while your arms hugged Stephen's side. You know what happened at the Moon Party's in Kamar- Taj. Only you and Stephen know about it. And we're not here to talk about that, right?

"No"Said Wong frowning and looking at you who was still hiding your face on Stephen's shoulder.

"Exactly." replied Stephen casually.

"Come on, Wong. Hasn't he been through enough?" Stephen looked at Wong with a pleading expression.

Wong looked at Stephen with a stern expression before he looked at you who were still hiding on Stephen's shoulder and looked at Peter. Not long after, a portal appeared behind Wong that led to the Kamar Taj.

"Just leave me out of this." Wong said hesitantly before stepping into the portal. But his eyes are still on Stephen and you.

Stephen raised his eyebrows. "Fine?"

"Fine.. Y/n, take care of your husband.. if anything weird and dangerous happens feel free to be angry with him." said Wong with a tone of suggestion plus advice as if he were a father-in-law advising his daughter-in-law.

You raised your face to look at Wong. Immediately, you nodded. The "technical" Sorcerer Supreme's portal closes. The "practical" Sorcerer Supreme smiles at Peter. While you looked at them both with a worried face. You then slapped Stephen's arm hard while looking straight into Stephen's eyes.

"Ow, what was that for?" said Stephen, starting to distance himself from you. As soon as he looked at your sharp face, he began to swallow his saliva slowly.

"Do you need to mention about the Full Moon Party in Kamar Taj?" You reprimanded in a firm tone of voice.

"Don't worry, he won't know" said Stephen teasingly but cautiously.

"He will know later. Knowing Wong, he will be able to figure things out quickly. What if he bans me from coming to the Library?" you said angrily.

"I'll make The runes of Kof-Kol again. Easy" said Stephen as he walked closer to Peter and changed his clothes to his usual tunic with a spell.

"Please be careful with that spell, Stephen.. I'm worried what will happen to us later" you said with a pleading tone of advice.

Stephen looked at you then pointed at Peter and told Peter to go to the basement first before Stephen slowly walked towards you. His arms wrapped around your body and he placed his chin on your head and kissed your hair softly while inhaling the smell of your hair lovingly. You hugged Stephen tightly and inhaled the smell of Stephen's body where there was a slight smell of hot chocolate and mint as well as the smell of old books. A smell that for you is quite comfortable and can be called a safe place.

" you don't have to worry, I promise I'll be careful.. If you need me just shout my name and I'll come in an instant.. ok? "said Stephen while stroking your back gently and lovingly.

You lifted your head from Stephen's chest and looked at Stephen's face. Your right hand let go and caressed Stephen's sharp cheekbone.

"It's not that I don't believe you, but you also know that I sometimes worry about what you do. That's why I'm worried that if something happens, who will help you later? Even though I don't know much about magic knowledge or cloak relic that can floating and living, I'll still help you no matter where you are." you said while peck Stephen's lips.

Stephen hummed as he grabbed your neck to kiss your lips for a long time before looking at you and loosening his embrace from your body and pulling back to look at you with his signature ego look.

"The way for you to help me is to just to be in bed" Stephen winked before he dramatically turned and walked towards the basement with the cloak swinging behind him.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You close your laptop slowly before getting out of bed and start reaching for the cable to charge your laptop. You stretched your body and yawned a little before walking back to bed to plug the charging cable into the laptop. You then intended to make hot chocolate again in the kitchen so you took the empty mug and walked out of your and Stephen's room. The Sanctum was quite quiet right now. The students who helped shovel the snow must have been resting for a while. You know they have been shoveling snow for a long time so it is not wrong if they want to rest for a while. And strangely, there was no sound at all from the underground where Stephen and Peter were now. Perhaps the process of the runes is quite long to make.

So you plan to make hot chocolate for the two students. Slowly you walk on the slippery floor. Carefully step your feet so you don't slip. As soon as you reached the Sanctum stairs, you immediately held the stair rail tightly with your right hand. You look for the two students who are not shoveling in front of the stairs. Weird, you're going down slowly.

All of a sudden, the Sanctum began to shake as if there was a massive earthquake causing your hand grip on the rail to slip and you immediately slipped down the slippery stairs before landing with your head hitting the corner of the stairs hard causing your vision to blur and have a black spot in the corner your eyes.

"Mrs Strange!" screams were heard simultaneously, which to you were the voices of two students who volunteered to help shoveling snow there.

Your blurry vision that was getting darker and darker was only able to see the shadow of the two students before your eyes closed, your eyes managed to look at the third shadow behind the student. A glimpse of black and bushy hair. And with that, your vision darkened as if you had fallen into a dark ocean.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Voices as if people were talking faintly sounded in your ears as soon as you started to wake up from unconsciousness. Your head is throbbing as if there is a drum in your head causing your headache to become painful. Of course this will cause you an extreme headache later. Your eyes began to open slowly as you flinched when the voice that was faint to you earlier became clear. You whimpered a little in pain as every sound made your head hurt. Immediately everything was silent.

You open your eyes and look around. It turns out that where you are now is your and Stephen's room. You tried to get up but suddenly a black figure quickly rushed to the side of your bed and grabbed your arm and back as if it was trying to help you sit up. You looked at that black glimpse.

"Stephen?"

'Stephen' looked at you strangely and confused before releasing his hold on you as soon as you were in a sitting position and pulled back but his eyes were still on you.

"Stephen? I'm Sherlock. Not Stephen. John, what is she saying?"Said 'Stephen' or known as Sherlock with a British accent looking to the man with sand blonde hair, short and dressed in a black jacket and black jeans who was standing not far from where the two of you were.

"Sherlock I think she's still semi-conscious-"

"-I'm fully aware ok. I'm not unconscious anymore. So I know what I'm talking about. And who are you anyway? Why is Stephen or Sherlock if you want to call him wearing clothes like this? As far as I know his hair is not curly like this." you said looking Sherlock up and down.

The man with sandy blonde hair approached you both slowly.

"My name is John Watson and I don't understand what you are saying right now. All we know is that we are solving a case and suddenly, here we are." John explained to you.

" and I am not the Stephen you say." replied Sherlock lazily as he rolled his eyes.

"Sherlock!" John insisted angrily as his eyes were fixed on Sherlock.

"It's true what I said. She keeps calling me Stephen. I don't know why." Sherlock replied.

"yeah but this is not the time to argue about that. Right now we have to think about how we want to go back to 221B" said John looking at you.

"I'm sorry if I interrupted. But what do you mean that you and he are suddenly here?" you said confusedly to the two men.

John looked at Sherlock with a face you couldn't read. Sherlock looked at John for a long moment before he let out a heavy sigh. John must have thought that Sherlock must have some sort of solution to this.

"I'm afraid I don't know how the two of us are here. All we know is that there's a flash of colour and the next thing we know we're in this 'museum'," explained Sherlock while running his hands through his curly hair.

You looked at the two of them for a long time before sighing heavily. It seems that this may have something to do with the spell that Stephen made. Nothing but this must have happened when Stephen made the spell.

" I think I know how to help you two. I have to go and see my husband.. " you said starting to get up but stopped when Sherlock grabbed your shoulder to sit back down.

You looked at Sherlock confused. Sherlock cocked his head to the side as if to indicate something. You looked at what Sherlock meant and gasped as you saw your right leg wrapped in a white bandage.

"I suggest you don't need to walk for a few weeks. You sprained your ankle when you fell down the slippery stairs so I've bandaged your leg and treated your head. Nothing serious, you might just have a headache but that will go away with time," explained John in doctor mode.

"oh, thank you for helping me. It seems we have to wait for Stephen to come to the room, then we can help you" you said.

Sherlock and John nodded. The atmosphere in the room was quiet again. Only the sound of motorcycle and car engines can be heard from outside the Sanctum even though it is muffled because of the windows but you can still hear how busy New York City is. Sherlock and John who were still confused by the current atmosphere seemed to have relaxed a little with the quiet atmosphere. Maybe that's what they want. Quiet and peaceful.

Maybe with the current situation, this is the best time for them to think of a way to go home. You looked at Sherlock who was now at the window looking at New York City with a frown on his face. He was definitely not used to the atmosphere of a big and noisy city compared to where he lived. Maybe?

Sherlock's face, which is indeed similar to your husband's face, makes you amazed at how different and the same they are when they stand next to each other. His clean shaven face without any goatee, even his curly hair that looks soft makes you want to run your fingers through his hair a few times just to feel how soft his hair is.

The way of wearing it is quite different compared to what your husband wears. The black trench coat and blue scarf look neat tied around his neck, probably because he doesn't want to get cold. But, no matter how different he is from your husband. You remain faithful to your true husband until the end of your life. Maybe Sherlock will find a girl like you? we don't know. Love doesn't always come rolling, what we need to do is find true love.

"so umm... Are you two partners or colleagues?" you said suddenly trying to make a conversation.

John looked at you before clearing his throat. " we can be said to be colleagues but we are also flatmates. Although, Sherlock's behavior is quite  rude, we are still friends. He trusts me and I trust him. Although some people think we are umm.. more than friends. But, it's not true. I'm a married man and Sherlock has a girlfriend, so over time the rumors just...disappeared"

You raised an eyebrow. Sherlock has a girlfriend?

Sherlock looked at you for a moment before looking back at the window. "yes, is there a problem?"

You shook your head quickly. " no no. John just said your behavior is a bit rude but it doesn't mean you can't afford to have a girlfriend. You are just like my husband, Stephen.. although his behavior is a bit cocky and his ego is a bit high, he knows how to take care of a woman who he calls his wife" you smiled to yourself.

Sherlock was speechless. His eyes were still focused on the outside of the window before he slowly turned his gaze towards you.

"Her name is Y/n. Yeah, you're just like her. Strong but she knows her limits. Fierce but kind at the same time. Likes to help others a lot. That's what I like about her. Stubborn too. That's the reason why I'm not surprised to see you is because to me you are just like her. There is no difference, only the way you throw your words is different. She is more soft but firm and you are more firm but soft." Sherlock said softly, his hand in his pocket gently stroking the black box.

You were stunned by what Sherlock said. It turns out that he admires the girl he loves without realizing it. The verse that is said to be arranged is beautiful like a poem. He really loves that girl. Even if the girl has the same name and face as you, no matter how different the version of Stephen in this universe is, it will definitely be united with the girl they really admire. And that girl is you.

You looked at John who was looking at Sherlock with his mouth slightly open. "What's wrong, John?"

John jerked away from his gaze and looked at you, his head a little closer to your ear. And then he whispered.

"this is the first time he admitted that he loves Y/n to someone else. All this time it was all done quietly and in his own way. So this is a bit of a surprise to me. He never told what 'our' Y/n is like to anyone but me " explained John in a whisper. Worried that his statement was heard by Sherlock who was now still in his own mind.

You nodded in understanding and looked at Sherlock. John pulled himself away from you and walked over to the chair not far from your bed, his hands clasped and gently stroked.

"umm.. how long will it take for your husband to come back?" asked John.

" I don't think it will be long because he is in the basement. So maybe he will come up soon. " you replied while tugging at your shirt.

Sherlock sighed quickly and ran his fingers through his hair repeatedly as if his mind was reeling. He then walked back and forth in the same place before walking and sitting on the end of your bed. He sighed heavily.

"oh please hurry up. I'm bored" Sherlock said with a complaining tone.

You looked at Sherlock confused then looked at John with a questioning look on your face. John looked at you as if he understood what you meant.

" don't mind him. He's always like that when he's bored. Complains and sometimes shoots the wall with a gun.. But that's when 'our' Y/n isn't in the flat.. if Y/n is there, of course he'll just stick with Y/n ." John said to you, shrugging his shoulders as if he'd had enough of Sherlock's behavior.

"shoot a wall? like really shoot a wall with a real gun? Aren't other people angry?" you asked widening your eyes slightly as if in disbelief.

John nodded and sighed. "yeah, of course our landlady is angry with Sherlock but because she's had enough of Sherlock's behavior it's become a habit. It's just that the price of the flat has increased"

" That's when your Y/n isn't there.. but what does he do when your Y/n is in the flat? " you asked John again.

"well, Sherlock usually just puts his head on Y/n's lap and Y/n will play with her hair as if that will calm Sherlock's mind. That's the calmest thing when Y/n is in our flat. All things or experiments are not touch by him if Sherlock is stuck with Y/n" said John looking at Sherlock who was looking out the window. Perhaps his attention was lost the moment he entered his mind.

You nodded understanding what John explained. Even though Sherlock looks cold and a little rude, he still has a kind and gentle nature to his lover. Also, just by looking at Sherlock you can imagine what it would be like if Stephen took criminology instead of the medical field. Surely Stephen will be like Sherlock. Thirst with knowledge and criminal cases must be his main characteristic. There is no difference at all.

You looked back at John but before you could open your mouth, Stephen opened the bedroom door wide and entered the bedroom you shared with his face covered in claw marks and bruises. Stephen limped into the room slowly.

Your eyes then light up when you see Stephen but turn worried when you see your husband's condition. The startled John quickly got up and walked towards Stephen to help him.

"Stephen! " you called in a soft voice plus a hint of concern towards Stephen.

Stephen who was limping and helped by John looked at you with a relieved face before turning to worry when his eyes looked at you who was lying on the bed with one leg wrapped.

"Honey, what happened to you? Are you ok?" Stephen asked worriedly and tried to go towards you with John's help. Stephen was still unaware of the presence of two men there even though he was helped by John. All his attention is only on you.

" Don't worry about me, dear. My ankle is just sprained and I'm sure I have a slight concussion but what we need to worry about is you, Steph.. what's going on?" you replied in a worried tone and tried to move towards Stephen but you winced in pain as you moved your bandaged leg.

Stephen sighed heavily and began to sit on the edge of the bed. John then stepped back trying to give the two couples privacy. Sherlock, who had been in the realm of his mind, started to snapped out of his mind and looked at you and his variant. Sherlock began to make deductions against Stephen.

Stephen rubbed your bandaged leg gently so that it would not put any pressure on your sprained leg. You looked at Stephen with a worried frown.

"What happened? you asked Stephen as your hand tried to reach Stephen's hand that was stroking your bandaged leg.

"well.. you know what Peter wants right? So I cast the spell but it started backfired and everything went haywire. And guess what, I found a lizard monster in the basement so I fought it and put it in the cell. It's pretty strong too and that's why I got some of these injuries. " Stephen explained. His hand then reached your hand and stroked it gently.

You let out a deep breath. Fortunately, nothing bad happened to Stephen and he only had injuries that could be treated with a first aid kit and enough rest. Luckily nothing bad happened after that. You frowned.

"So, the spell you cast and backfired is what caused this Sanctum to shake?" you make assumptions right away.

Stephen lowered his head slightly before looking at you with pleading eyes.

"yes.." replied Stephen with a small voice.

" and that spell caused the detective version of you to appear with his friend?" you said again as you pointed your index finger towards Sherlock and John.

Stephen raised his head quickly and looked at you with a confused face.

"sorry?" Stephen asked in a confused tone.

"the detective version of you appeared after I fell down the Sanctum stairs. Luckily, his friend helped me with a sprained leg and my head. Otherwise, I'd still be at the end of the Sanctum stairs." you murmured to Stephen.

Stephen immediately looked at your pointing finger and let out a heavy breath as his eyes widened to see his own twin standing upright next to the window of your room. Sherlock who looked narrowly at Stephen stiffened when he saw another version of himself in front of him.

The two men looked at each other in silence. Their eyes study each other's faces and selves quickly. Honestly, Stephen himself doesn't know whether this is an impressive thing or not because one, of course he was quite amazed when he could see another version of himself although it was a bit strange because he saw himself in front of his eyes and secondly, it was also quite dangerous if any variants who set foot in another universe, it will definitely result in bad things like incursion.

Talk about Incursion made Stephen widen his eyes with shock.

Stephen quickly shook his head in distress. "no, no no.. this is very dangerous. The two of you cannot be in this universe. It's too dangerous. One step in another universe, that universe will be destroyed and disappear from existence. This is all a mistake" Stephen rambled with stress while walking one places around the room.

John looked at Sherlock hoping Sherlock knew what Stephen meant. Destroyed and disappeared from existence. These two gentlemen should not be in this universe let alone other variants from different universes.

And what Stephen knew was that he was already fucked up after he cast the spell. Sherlock can only see the version of himself that is in distress and walking in that place. Back and forth steps were arranged by Stephen while rubbing his head. Stephen's injuries became numb and forgotten.

John decided to open his mouth. "You see, we here don't know what's going on right now. All we know is that your wife told us that you can take us back to.. our universe"

Stephen stopped and looked at John confused. "and you are?"

"John Watson, call me John" John introduced himself.

Stephen nodded his head. "Doctor Stephen Strange. Doctor Strange is fine" Stephen replied and looked at Sherlock with a frown. "and who's this friend of yours?"

John looked at Sherlock who was still standing stiffly by the window. "That's Sherlock Holmes.. just call him Sherlock.. Don't mind him, he's always like that. Trying to make some deductions."

Stephen nodded his head in understanding. Although Stephen knows who Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson are due to him having read Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's books in his spare time. But he does not expect that the real Sherlock Holmes is a variant of himself. He excepted that Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson would appear as in the book describe both of them and in Victorian era clothing but his expectations were wrong just seeing the way they both wore.

Although the way they both dress is quite good for the season in London, it is also good that they wear such clothes in Sanctum because Sanctum is still in a 'Christmas holiday' state.

You, who had been a witness to the conversation, began to open your mouth after being silent for a 'long time'. "Stephen, I think we need to treat your injury. I'm afraid there will be an infection and we can continue this while Doctor Watson is here treating your wound. Doctor Watson, you go to the bathroom and open the bathroom mirror. In there we keep first aid kit." You told John.

John nodded and walked into the bathroom. Stephen sighed heavily.

"Do you still want to stand there or do you want to ask questions?" Stephen sighed tiredly.

As if he had just woken up from his mind reverie, Sherlock jerked out of his Mind Palace. His mind played some questions that only his variant could tell. The Great Sherlock Holmes himself does not know how the universe works let alone know about the solar system.

Stephen sighed weakly and shook his head several times trying to get rid of the dizziness that was growing in his head. "I still can't believe I will discover a variants from another universes let alone my own variant" Stephen paused and looked at Sherlock. "seems like you have a question to ask"

Sherlock nodded slightly. "although I believe in science but what is happening now is a bit confusing for me"

"I can say the same thing for you. Even I know everything about universes and mystics but this is really out of control and shouldn't happen" Stephen rubbing his chin with both hands.

Sherlock cocked his eyebrows at Stephen. "and why is that?"

"Because once any variants or things from the alternative universe are traced in another universe, it will trigger something that can bring chaos to that universe" Stephen explained.

Sherlock frowned. Meanwhile John came out of the bathroom with a first aid kit in his hand and walked towards Stephen. The first aid kit was opened and John began to enter his Doctor mode and began to treat the wound on Stephen's face.

"don't bother telling him about that, Doctor Strange. He doesn't know that the earth goes around the sun let alone knows about things like this" John muttered.

You stifled a giggle and put a palm over your mouth to hide your smile. Sherlock grumbled unpleasantly when he heard what John said then he turned his gaze to the window again.

"and by the way. Back to the trigger something.. how long do you think it will take to start happening?" John asked with concern. "we didn't want to cause any danger in your universe, honestly"

Stephen sighed. "I don't know.. let's just hope it doesn't happen so quickly"

"also, we still need to find out how to bring you both back to your universe" you stated.

Sherlock looked at you. "can you do magic too?"

"uhm.. no. I don't have magic like Stephen, I'm just a university lecturer" You replied.

"Y/n in our universe is a Detective Inspector at Scotland Yard. From there Sherlock knows her" John said all of the sudden as his hand dabbed cotton on Stephen's wounds.

Stephen winced as the stinging pain flashed across his face. John looked at Stephen apologetically before continuing his work.

"Stephen met me.. correction bumping into me and causing my coffee to spill all over him that's how we both met. Years later we both got married and still have no children but we are still happy" you smiled towards Stephen passionately.

Sherlock looked at you both for a long time. This is what will happen if he and your version are in his universe. His hand in his pocket tightly holding the ring box.

Just as Sherlock was about to open his mouth, your phone made a loud 'ping' sound indicating that notifications had arrived.

You looked at your phone on the bedside table and reached for it. The screen opens and the dim light from your screen shines on your face. Sherlock, Stephen and John just looked at you.

Your face is shocked when you receive a message from one of your students which is the latest news about the attack on the bridge but what makes you more shocked is Spiderman and squid man? who made havoc there. You quickly flipped your phone and directed it to Stephen.

Stephen widened his eyes and quickly got up from his sitting position causing John to jerk in surprise at the sudden movement.

"i have to go" Stephen said then leaned and kissed your forehead.

You nodded in understanding and caressed his cheek. "be safe" you muttered to him with concern.

Stephen nodded and walked out of the room you two shared. The two grown men who are with you can only witness the situation unfolding in front of them with confused and worried faces (John who is worried).

"What's wrong?" Sherlock spoke after a few moments of silence.

"He needs to get Peter before something untoward happens" you muttered.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

*Time Skips*

After the whole fiasco where Peter trapped Stephen in the Grand Canyon and he ran away with a cube that contained spells in the hope of changing the fate of the villains there, well that's what Peter said to you before he and the others left the Sanctum. You worriedly pacing with a slight limp in the main room of the Sanctum with a concerned face engraved.

You don't know how long you've been pacing around because you're worried about Stephen's condition now, you don't know how to open the portal. Stephen always said that he does not recommend you to learn magic because for him it is dangerous even though a simple spells can lead to a dangerous situation. You just scoffed at that. Said the one who always casts simple spells and leads into dangerous situations.

John and Sherlock who are 'still' in the Sanctum can only see your distressed session. John who was sitting on the steps was staring into space at the same time unconsciously tapping his foot on the floor while Sherlock was observing everything in the Sanctum trying to get rid of his boredom.

"it's been twelve hours he's trapped.. I don't know what happened to him and yet I'm here doing nothing to help him" You said with a worried tone.

"Calm down, Y/n. He's a Sorcerer of course he's fine. You don't need to worry about him.. Just sit here you shouldn't put pressure on your sprained leg. It will interfere with its healing" John tapped the spot beside him with his left hand.

"What if something happens to him? And I can't do anything. I don't have magic like Stephen" you said worriedly as you take a seat besides John.

"he's a great man, he'll be back later. You shouldn't worry about him. He might be dealing with what happened now." John assured you while patting your shoulder. He looked at Sherlock who was trying to hold the artifacts there. "Sherlock" he called.

Sherlock withdrew his fingers from touching the artifacts there and turned his gaze on John. He grumbled and sat next to you. Now you are among British men. One that looks like your husband and one that looks like one of the CIA agents you see on TV.

"I just wish he's okay, that's all. That's what a wife should do right? Worry about their husband's well-being" you murmured.

"Mary don't do that" Sherlock muttered.

John glared at him. "Pardon?"

Sherlock grumbled and looked away. You looked at Sherlock with confusion engraved on your face.

"Mary? As in Mary Watson?" You asked.

"My wife." John replied, smiling to himself.

"She sounds lovely"

"oh she was lovely.. Still is" John looked down his lap with sorrow.

"Was?" you furrowed your eyebrows.

"She's passed away a few years ago. It's complicated but everything is sorted out" John said, grieving.

"Oh, John.. I'm sorry for your loss. She's probably in a good place" you said, rubbing his back in a comforting way.

"Thanks" John said lowly. "without her me and Sherlock will not make up after a long time of not being on the same page for some reason regarding her death. She saved us one last time. Well, she's probably going to kill us if we still don't see each other. Rosie going to be pisses to her dad for that" John added.

"at least she has a favorite auntie and uncle by her side" Sherlock interrupted.

"yeah, well. obviously you and Y/n are her favorites. You both spoiled her too much with the puzzle. Now she's obsessed." John complained.

"It's good for 5 years old to grow up with the great brain. Otherwise you spoiled her with Mrs Hudson biscuits" Sherlock shot back his response.

"Rosie's first word is Murder. Murder! Not daddy or Papa. It's all your fault for teaching her that word" John said loudly.

Two British men fighting like old married couples? yup. Your day is very beautiful.

" her first word is Murder. Well.. that's quite surprising" You are dumbfounded.

"I expected she said mother but I heard it wrong.. She loudly said Murder. Now you know whose fault" John crossed his arms.

"At least she doesn't have a bad temper like yours" Sherlock said flatly.

"what?" John glared at Sherlock.

"nothing." Sherlock looked at you. "She and Y/n are very inseparable. Y/n loves her like her own daughter so no wonder Rosie has almost the same personality as Y/n. She follows her everywhere" Sherlock said admiringly.

"You really love her, don't you?" you said, grinning at him.

"Well, love is a strong word but yes. You can say that. Mycroft still debating with himself when I say that I have a girlfriend" Sherlock muttered.

You nodded in understanding and thought into space. The Sanctum is quiet.

"You know, it's a bit weird knowing that the characters from the books I read when I was little actually exist in another universe. Let alone have the same face as my husband." you chuckled.

"I'm still debating with myself that the Multiverse exists. Let alone meet the same person as my girlfriend" Sherlock said.

"I'm still in the state of making sure this is not a dream by the way" John spoke.

"well, Mr Watson. It's one hundred percent real and not a dream" you replied, smirking.

"But still, being in another universe is not our line of work" Sherlock said next to you.

You sighed lightly. "Is it true that you once encountered Professor Moriarty?"

"Moriarty is not a professor in our universe but well he claimed himself as a Consulting Mastermind. Well, he's dead now.. So no need to worry"

"is it Reinchenbach Fall? He's dead because he fell right?" You tilted your head slightly.

"he shot himself with a gun.. I was the one who jumped not him.. I'm pretending to be dead for 2 years just to destroy his network" Sherlock replied.

"oh, yeah.. i read about that too.. You pretended to be dead for 2 years... Gosh, that must be bothering you, isn't it?" You said, glancing at Sherlock sympathetically.

"You can say that" Sherlock replied.

"It's sound weird that you know everything because you read books about us even though you've never been to our place" John blurted after a long time silent.

"Well, the timeline in the book is the Victorian era, so compared to your modern era, there is no difference. The characters and the story lines are almost the same," you explained.

"but not all of them, right?" John looked at you.

You nodded. "yup" you thought for a moment. "Gosh, it's been a while.. I'm starting to worry about him" you rubbed your arms anxiously.

Sherlock awkwardly put his hand on your back and rubbed it gently in a comforting way.

"He's okay, Y/n..Don't worry about him.. Like you said he has magic so he knows when to protect himself" John reassured you.

"but what if something happens-"

The sound of the spark started to be heard in the middle of the Sanctum where the three of you were. You started to wake up with Sherlock's help. Both hands hug yourself as you try to warm yourself. There Stephen came out of the portal with scratches and cuts on his face. He looked obviously tired.

His body bends a little, probably his ribs are sore after fighting for a long time. You sighed in relief and rushed to Stephen. You immediately put Stephen's right hand on your shoulder as you helped him to sit on the Sanctum stairs.

"Oh, Stephen. Thank God you're okay" you put both hands on Stephen's cheek and caressed his cheek.

Stephen sighed heavily before putting his forehead against yours. He closed his eyes tiredly. "it takes a long time to handle that opponent"

"Are those villains already defeated? What happened to Spiderman?" You asked concerned.

"I already took them all back to their universes.. It took a long time to handle that because of Goblin. Spiderman is also okay, he's the ones who cure them all" Stephen explained.

"Oh, what a relief. At least you're okay" you said while looking at the injury on his face. "Luckily it's just a small wounds and not a big one. Need me to clean it?"

"no need, I can use healing spells besides I have one last job to do" Stephen opened his eyes and glanced at the Baker Street duo.

Stephen started to get up and walk forward facing the duo. "I believe this is the time for you two to return to your universe. Can't risk any danger in this universe, right?"

"yes.. of course.. We don't want that to happen" John replied.

"the spell doesn't hurt, it's just a bit tickle so both of you will arrive in your universe as usual" Stephen explained.

Sherlock nodded in understanding. "Thanks for letting us both sit here for a while. We appreciate it"

Stephen nodded then held out his hand to shake Sherlock's hand. Sherlock reached out and shook his hand.

"Until next time" Stephen nodded.

Sherlock nodded. John looked at you with appreciation.

"Thanks, Y/n. for explaining and letting us stay here.. Also for helping us get used to being here for a while. We owe it to you both" John said.

"You don't owe us anything, John. Besides, thanks for helping me about what happened earlier. Thanks for treating my injuries." you said to him with a smile.

You turned your gaze to Sherlock. "and you, Mr. Holmes. Make sure you propose to Y/n with a lot of books as a gift, yes? Don't think I didn't see your hand in your pocket, fidgeting with the ring box. Make sure she said yes even though she always says yes to you" you warned him.

Sherlock was stunned. His face turned red. John gawked at Sherlock while Stephen smirked.

"you-"

"right, shall we?" Sherlock cut him off by telling Stephen to leave.

Stephen smirked then nodded and then he began to cast a spell to send them both back to their universe.

Their bodies glowed with a bright yellow light and slowly they disappeared in front of you both. Sherlock nodded his appreciation at the two of you before disappearing in your sight.

You looked at Stephen with a grin. "well, that went well"

"yes.. it went well, honey" Stephen put his hand on your hips.

"now, why don't we just clean ourselves up and treat those injuries? After that we can just marathon read Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's books in our room? what do you think?" you suggested

"Is there hot chocolate?" Stephen smirked at you.

"oh, Husband. Of course there is. Besides Sanctum is still in the Christmas spirit, so we need more hot chocolate" you smiled teasingly at him.

"well, my wife. Lead the way then" Stephen squeezed your hips teasingly causing you to shriek.

#benedict cumberbatch x reader #bbc shows #benedict cumberbatch #doctor strange x reader #doctor strange x female reader #sherlock holmes x reader #bbc sherlock #sherlock bbc #bbc sherlock x reader #dr stephen strange #dr stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x reader #dr john watson #Spotify

[multific]

Destiny

Mycroft Holmes x Reader

Summary: What happens when you fall in love with the IceMan himself? It can never end well, right?

Destiny.

A simple word yet it held so much power.

What does it mean to be destined for something or even, someone?

When you first heard about this word, your grandmother told you how she and your grandfather met.

A true love story.

A story so beautiful it was always in the back of your head as you grew older and older.

You hoped you would have a similar experience in your love life. Finding, the person and falling in love, it all sounded amazing.

You knew you wouldn't be able to force such a thing, you were aware of that. And yet, you were impatient. 

So impatient that in fact, you fall into many traps.

In many ways, you thrived in your life.

Expect your love life.

Your desire for a love like no other made you fall in love with men who were undeserving. 

Until you met Mycroft Holmes.

To say that he was the entire British Government would be an understatement.

You applied for a simple job, to be his assistant.

You spent so much time with him, that you thought you were going insane.

You blamed Stockholm syndrome for your feelings.

The moment you realized your feelings were real was during a very difficult week.

Almost every criminal in London had an agenda to mess with him. This caused you to do so much overtime, that you didn't even leave the office.

It was during the fourth day when Mycroft showed up with a bouquet. 

"I thought you would be home," he said, clearly he wasn't prepared to have you right there, at your desk. "Usually you arrive at 6:46 because you stop by at the nearby bakery for breakfast and coffee." 

So, he did pay attention to you. After he spent all that time to make sure you are aware that he simply doesn't care for people like you.

"I stayed to finish the file on this. I-"

"Did you eat?"

"No, Sir." he made a face at that and took his phone out of his pocket.

"Delivery will be here in 10 minutes. Eat, drink your coffee and then come speak with me. I'll be in my office."

He ordered exactly just what you wanted with the most perfect coffee you ever had.

He paid attention to you.

And you realized your feelings for him were real.

You knew hiding it from him would be impossible. Mycroft was incredibly smart. He would notice.

But little did you know, he felt the same.

He thought you would notice his feelings and confront him about it. 

He wasn't ready for a rejection.

Yet, your rejection never came.

Not when he asked you out to dinner. Not when he brought you another bouquet.

Not when he kissed you.

Instead, he let you guide him.

Love wasn't new to him. He loved his siblings, and his parents but this kind of love is very different. 

He didn't have experience with this kind of love, and it scared him a little.

But he also didn't reject it.

He embraced it.

And soon, a beautiful diamond ring found its rightful place on your finger.

It might have not been the way you wanted your one and true love.

But it was your destiny.

And you were okay with it.

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad @groovyqueer @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

#mycroft holmes fanfic #mycroft holmes #mycroft holmes fanfiction #mycroft holmes bbc #bbc mycroft holmes #x reader #fanfiction #x female reader #mycroft holmes x reader #mycroft holmes x you #mycroft holmes imagine #mycroft holmes imagines #mycroft holmes x fem reader #bbc sherlock #bbc sherlock x reader #bbc mycroft #bbc sherlock x you #bbc mycroft holmes x reader #bbc mycroft holmes x you #bbc mycroft holmes imagine #bbc mycroft holmes imagines

[softestqueeen]

i can't do this anymore!

pairing: bbc!sherlock x gn!reader

summary: When Sherlock overhears you talking on the phone, he thinks you're going to leave him.

warnings: nothing really, just miscommunication and a little angst

a/n: hey, this is my first ever fanfic so please be a bit patient with me. English is not my first language, I apologise for all the mistakes I've probably made.

Sherlock and you have been in an relationship for almost two years and so far everything was going great. Well, at least that’s what Sherlock thought.

Until one day, when he overheard you on the phone talking to your best friend, Mary. It wasn’t his intention to eavesdrop, but you looked upset while talking and he just wanted to assure he wasn’t the cause for it.

You were on the phone ranting to your best friend about wanting to quit your job. It didn’t make you happy anymore and you’ve already applied for new jobs. You didn’t tell Sherlock yet, because he was very busy with one of his cases and didn’t want to bother him with something that could wait.

“I’ve noticed that in these past few weeks I wasn’t happy anymore with this situation. I can’t keep on doing this, it’s just too much. So the only right thing to do, is end it. Once and for all.”, you told her.

Hearing this, Sherlocks heart shattered. He thought you were happy with how things were in your relationship, but apparently that was not the case. He couldn’t hear what Mary said on the other end, but he could hear very clearly that your plan was to end it tomorrow.

He couldn’t lose you. You were his everything, his reason to live. You made his life worth living and managed to break down the walls he built to protect himself. He trusted you with his life, so just thinking about you wanting to break up with him, nearly send him spiralling.

He didn’t know what to do or say so hedecided to wait until tomorrow and then beg you to not break up with him. Even if he’d have to get on his knees and beg. Alone the thought of you leaving made tears well up in his eyes.

He quickly composed himself, because he could hear you saying goodbye to your best friend. Acting like he was in his mind palace when you entered, gave him some time to think about what to say tomorrow.

“Hey Sherly”, he could hear your joyful voice call for him, but choose to ignore it, keeping up with the act. You were not happy at all with Sherlock ignoring you. After all the time you’ve spent with the consulting detective you knew when he was really in his mind palace and when he was just pretending.

With a frown on your face, you bent down to be at eye level with him. You crossed your arms and lifted an eyebrow. The moment you lifted your brow you could already hear the defeated sigh from your boyfriend.

“Hello, love”, he greeted you with a tight lipped smile. Immediately a crease started to form between your brows. “Is everything alright, honey?”, you asked him. “Yes, everything is just fine, love. I just have to.. uh.. go to a crime scene. Exactly, John called, he needs my help. Now. Don’t wait up for me.”, while explaining his not really convincing plan he put on his signature coat and his scarf.

He kissed you on the side of your head and left without another word. You could just mumble a short “take care” before you heard the door to the busy streets of London shut closed.

Not going to lie, you were worried. Why was he acting so weird all of the sudden? He seemed almost distant. Normally, when something is on the genius’ mind he talks to you. You’ve made a lot of progress since you first got together and talk about almost everything. You knew each other so well, you could always tell what’s on his mind, even if he doesn’t like to admit that. It’s his own fault, if he teaches you to deduct people. But in this case you wanted to wait until he came to you with his worries. Whatever it was it seemed to really bother your boyfriend.

Sherlock wandered around aimlessly before he returned to Baker Street. He wasn’t ready to face you just yet, so he did something he rarely did. He visited his house keeper Mrs. Hudson. He was that desperate.

He knocked twice, before the elderly woman opened the door with a surprised smile on her lips. “What do I owe the honour to, Sherlock? You never come to visit me.”, she ushered him in and set on a kettle.

“Uhm… I fear y/n wants to break up with me.”, he mumbled, not daring to look Mrs. Hudson in the eyes. “Oh, Sherlock! What makes you believe that?”, she wanted to know from the detective, that has grown into her heart and is now like a son to her. She was worried, she knew how much you meant to him.

On the other side she also knew how much you loved him and doubted that you wanted to end things. Sherlock told her what he overheard of your conversation. “But Sherlock, are you really sure that’s what she meant? Couldn’t she have been talking about her job or something?”, she wanted to know.

He just shrugged and sipped his tea.

“I think you should go and talk to her, Sherlock. Maybe it’s all just a big misunderstanding.”, she reasoned. Still unsure of himself he nodded and thanked her for the advice. “Anytime, Sherlock, anytime.”

He went back into the flat you two shared, first as flatmates and now as lovers. He couldn’t see you anywhere and softly called out your name. He went into his bedroom, which the two of you mostly share and found you underneath the blanked, hugging his pillow. The dried tears on your face made his heart shatter.

He wasn’t sure what to do, thinking he messed up. He undressed and put on his pyjamas, but instead of joining his lover in the bed, he went back to the living area and settled on the couch. It wasn’t comfortable but he couldn’t sleep anyways. At around 4 o’clock in the morning his exhaustion won and he fell into a dreamless slumber.

You woke up to an empty bed. It wasn’t something new, but you worried about your boyfriends whereabouts. A lot.

You got up and found him asleep on the couch, looking incredibly uncomfortable, his tall frame not fitting into the small space provided. You started to rub your hand up and down his arm to wake him up.

Slowly he opened his blue-green eyes and looked into your e/c eyes. He sat up, stretched and then looked at you like a kicked puppy. If you looked close enough you could even see a pout forming on his plump lips.

“Sherlock, what’s wrong?”, you asked cautiously.

After a very pregnant pause he chocked out, “Please don’t leave me. I- I- I just cant live without you, you are my everything!”

You looked at the tear that rolled down his face, taking a path over his high cheekbone to the corner of his lip, with utter shock and heartbreak.

“Oh darling, what makes you believe I want to break up with you?”, you sat down next to him, cupped his cheek and used the pad of your thumb to wipe away a new tear that threatened to roll down his face. “I love you so much, I would never leave you!”

Sherlock released a shaky breath and leaned forward, making your foreheads touch. He cupped your face and whispered with his eyes closed, “I thought you’re going to leave me. I- I was so scared I-“ “Shh, it’s alright, darling. I’m not going to leave you. You’re stuck with me now.”

The last sentence made the detective smile. You furrowed your brows. “What made you think I was going to leave you?”, you wanted to know. He looked hesitant and then admitted, “I heard you talking to Mary about how fed up you were and that you wanted to end things. I assumed that you were talking about us.” He avoided looking at your eyes.

You chuckled a bit but stopped when you saw his puzzled expression. “I want to quit my job. I’m not unhappy with us, silly, I’m unhappy with my boss and my colleagues. I haven’t told you about it because you’ve been so busy with your case.”, you reassured him, “Why did you eavesdrop on our conversation in the first place?”

“You looked worried and I wanted to be sure that I’m not the cause of it. I’m sorry, I won’t do it again.”, he confessed. You knew that when he dropped the words ‘I’m sorry’ he really meant it.

“It’s alright, you meant it well.”, you told him, “I wish you would have been honest with me from the beginning, but I could have asked you what’s going on when I noticed you acting weird. From now on we know better.”

“You are right. As always.”, even though he whispered the last part, you’ve still heard it.

With a soft smile you stood up, “Come on darling, let’s go to bed.”

He immediately stood up, picked you up bridal style and took you to his bedroom.

He was just glad, he still gets to call you his love.

a/n: if you liked this, please leave some notes! you can now also request fics on my page!

#love #fluff #miscommunication #sherlock holmes x reader #bbc!sherlock holmes x reader #happy ending #angst #sherlock holmes is bad with fellings #first fanfic #benedict cumberbatch #sherlock bbc #reader insert #x reader #female reader #fem reader #gender neutral reader

[j-eryewrites]

The Dancing Men (Final)

Part 18 of The Arbitrary Lives of the Occupants of 221B Baker Street

MAIN MASTER LIST | SERIES MASTER LIST

Previous | Next

Word Count: 6.7k

Warnings: Guns, violence, descriptions of violence and crime scenes, gore, canon typical violence and shenanigans, Sherlock is Sherlock, crime, breaking and entering, mentions of stalking and yandere themes.

Author's Note: Finally, it's out. Yay! I really hope you enjoy it! Also thank you so much for your patience with me!!

Good News and Bad News. That’s how it always seemed to go in Sherlock’s line of work. Good news: Sherlock had cracked the code; This finely crafted lingo of dancing men turned into words and cohesive phrases. Now that the code had been broken, the case was soon close to an end. Bad News: The last phrase of code was an ominous one. The contorted drawings spoke of one thing and one thing only, death. Hilton Cubitt was going to die. The man behind the code was going to kill Cubitt. 

Now once bad news came Sherlock’s way, more bad news tended to follow. The first wave of bad news came in the form of Sherlock's lack of car keys. John had them in his possession and John was asleep in another room with the door locked. As a consequence of the late hour, Hilton was not answering his phone. That was the second wave of bad news. Now came the third wave. This bad news took form in the shape of ignorant police men. 

“No! You aren’t listening. My name is Sherlock Holmes. I’m a consulting detective, and my client is going to be killed. Hilton Cubitt. That’s his name. Lives on–” Sherlock barked. His voice thundered about the shared room. His feet walked him back and forth about the room adding to the noise that jolted Y/N awake. 

“Sherlock?” Y/N hoarsely said as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. 

Sherlock barely glanced Y/N’s way. His frustration with the oblivious, obtuse, bird-brained officer over the phone. A man’s life was at stake and as a fallout so were the lives of a mother and child. 

“You’re awake. Get John!” Sherlock told Y/N before turning back to the phone. “A man and his family are in danger. Someone will die and worse may happen if you do not listen to me!” Sherlock reprimanded the officer over the phone. 

Worry began to overcome the weariness in Y/N body. Why did she need to get John? Hilton was in trouble? His family? “Sherlock?” Y/N said with concern. 

Again, Sherlock paid Y/N no mind, all of his efforts were going into convincing the officer to send someone out to the Cubitt home. 

Sitting up from the bed, Y/N approached Sherlock’s disoriented figure. His intellect fighting with idiocy, for the sole purpose of pride and correctness was one thing, but with the cost of a man’s and quite possibly his family's life on the line in the battle of intellect was another thing. 

Carefully, Y/N placed a hand on Sherlock’s shoulder. It was only a hand, but it lent the man a beacon of light to ground himself to. Sherlock’s chaotic pace stilled as some peace crept into his mind. He wasn’t alone. 

Tension filled the air as Sherlock’s jaw tightened and Y/N’s grip on Sherlock’s shoulder tightened. Sherlock turned his head away from the phone to glance over at her. “John,” Sherlock harshly whispered. Y/N tilted her head in confusion. “John has the keys!” Y/N’s eyes widened as she understood what Sherlock was asking her. 

Immediately, Y/N withdrew her hand from Sherlock’s side and ran out of the room to bang on John’s door. Like the beating of a drum, Y/N pounded on the door over and over again until the door creaked open, and a groggy John came up to the door. 

She didn’t give John the chance to say anything before she dragged him back to her and Sherlock’s room with a look of panic on her face. Once the door was shut, John was now privy to the conversation. It did not take long for John’s face to mirror the concern and horror on Y/N’s face.  

Words were said. Seconds passed, yet they felt like years, as Sherlock crushed his fingers around the phone. The officer had hung up, but not before telling him he was a wanker who had a few too many drinks at the pub. 

It was silent. John’s eyes were wide as the dumbfounded expression grew on his face. Y/N brows clenched together in a worried expression as she watched Sherlock. He was as still as the surface of a lake in the early morning with not a ripple in sight. His mouth was close, his eyes neutral as he stared at the distance. The only sign of life in Sherlock was the whitening skin of his hand as his grip constricted his phone more and more. 

“He’s dead,” Sherlock whispered. 

John and Y/N shared a distressed look with each other. Yes, a man would now be dead. His family was put in danger, but what scared John and Y/N the most was their friend. He looked broken. Defeated. Sherlock had lost clients before, but never like this–never in a battle with ignorance. 

Y/N gave a comforting squeeze to Sherlock’s shoulder. He wasn’t alone, yet Sherlock couldn’t help but feel trapped in the empty halls of his mind.

_____

The car ride up to the Cubitt household was a solemn one. Everything seemed paralyzed: the streetlights flickered on and off and not a soul was outside. John didn’t enjoy the view outside, but the solemn view was better than the view of Sherlock’s stone-cold face with his blue eyes filled with anguish. 

A sickening feeling stirred in each of their stomachs the closer they got to the Cubitt home. As the familiar roads twisted and turned the insides of their stomachs sloshed around. Y/N felt like she was going to be sick. 

As they reached the street where the Cubitt home was, a new feeling grew from the sorrow in the consulting detective gut–fury. Where once was a yellow warmth from the streetlights, there was now the blaringly cold, red and blue lights from police cars. 

The cab came to a halt and the three of them climbed out onto the street in front of the Cubitt home. Police were everywhere. Some carrying their cameras taking photos of everything they deemed important and others whispering amongst themselves about who knows what. 

Y/N gulped at the scene and found herself reaching for Sherlock’s concealed hand. She needed the comfort, to know that she was not alone. The moment her fingers brushed past his, Y/N’s hand was enveloped by Sherlock’s warmth. It seemed that he too needed to know he wasn’t alone.  

“This is a closed crime scene–” An officer approached the three of them with his thick fingers spreading apart to stop them from moving even further. 

Something snapped in Sherlock at the officer’s gesture and his grip on Y/N’s hand tightened. “Nothing you could do would stop me from entering the scene. I am Sherlock Holmes–” 

“Ah!” The man’s eyes flashed with recognition. “I suppose you’re the detectives from England,” the officer said in the most nonchalant voice possible. “The one who called last night?”

Before Sherlock could implode and before her finger lost all feeling, Y/N stepped forward. “We are. We were hired by the Cubitt family and know more about this case than you idiots who ignored our concerns last night. Now a man is dead.” A silent fury was coming through Y/N’s voice as she spoke.

“Excuse me miss. That’s not at all–” the officer tried to redeem himself and the Clifden police department, and was doing so poorly. 

Y/N took in a deep breath before slightly raising her voice. “No, I'll stop you there. Where’s your Chief Inspector? I–we demand to see him.”

“Right, miss,” the officer paused, looking between the three of them. “The Chief Inspector wanted to see you anyway. This way.” Then the officer turned around and walked away expecting them to follow. 

Through the crime scene they traveled; What once was a cozy family home, with only happy memories is now an empty casket with no family to be found. 

“Where’s Elise and–” Y/N questioned the officer. 

“Save your questions for the Inspector,” the officer replied. 

Y/N scoffed and felt Sherlock’s hold on her hands tighten again. She glanced up at his stern figure and saw that his jaw was tightly clenched. He looked as if he wanted to strangle the man and add another body to the crime scene. She tugged his hand towards her direction causing Sherlock’s gaze to fall on her. 

“It’s alright,” she whispered as she began to rub her thumb across his knuckles. 

“These the English Detectives?” A husky voice boomed. 

“Yes, sir,” the officer said before leaning in to whisper something into the other man’s ear. Once the message had been relayed, the officer excused himself. 

The new man didn’t take long to introduce himself. His hair was an auburn shade with gray strands speckled amongst his head. Matching his hair on his head, was a patchy beard with adorning sideburns and hazel green eyes that appeared more brown than green.

 “My name’s Martin. Inspector Martin of the Clifden Constabulary.” He extended out his hand waiting for someone to shake it. No one did. Awkwardly, Martin put away his hand and cleared his throat. 

“It’s a terrible business,” said Martin “They were both shot, Mr. Hilton Cubitt and his wife. She shot him and then herself—so the neighbors say. He’s dead and she’s in the hospital. Not to mention their daughter’s gone missing. I can only assume the worst.” 

“What do you mean their daughter’s gone?” John asked. 

“Well…we’re not quite sure. All we knew that the child was missing when we arrived. Mr. Hilton was dead, and Elise was wounded,” the Inspector explained. 

Y/N’s face paled. This case turned out worse than she thought it’d be. First, the death of their client, the injury of his wife, and the missing presence of Hilton’s daughter. 

“Mr…” the Inspector asked. 

“Holmes.”

“Right, Mr. Holmes, if you don’t mind me asking, the crime was only committed at three in the morning. How did you know the incident would happen?”

This question irked Sherlock, but nevertheless he answered it. “I anticipated it. I called the Clifden police in the hope of preventing it,” Sherlock said as every part of him oozed contempt for the inspector. 

The Inspector’s face paled slightly as he cleared his throat, realizing his mistake. “Then you must have important insider knowledge that we need for the case.” 

“We only have the dancing men,” John said. 

The Inspector only looked puzzled at John’s answer. Before the Inspector could open his mouth to respond, Sherlock stepped forward. His blue eyes bore a warning to the Inspector. 

“In order for me to help you and your insolent police force, I need one thing and one thing only…” Sherlock’s voice was cold. The Inspector nervously gulped. “Access to the crime scene and all knowledge you have gathered from it.”

“Done,” Inspector Martin said with a shaky voice. “Although I must apologize on behalf of my staff. It would benefit us all if you worked with us.”

Sherlock made an expression with his eyes as if to say, “You don’t think?”

Despite all the hesitancy and nervousness that the Inspector previously displayed, he seemed to understand what he needed to accomplish next: He promptly showed the consulting detective and company to the crime scene and provided Sherlock with the space he needed to observe. 

They were in the Hilton’s master bedroom. It wasn’t a room that they had previously seen before. It was a well decorated room, and one could tell it was a safe haven of sorts for its late occupants with the memories hanging on the wall and the sentimental works of crayon art. The bed sheets and throw pillows were the same scarlet red. A shade that mimicked the pool of liquid underneath the body in the middle of the room. 

Hilton lay on the floor with a hole in his chest right where his heart should have been beating. He was shot. His death was quick and painless. At least that’s what John had gathered looking at the body. The information would have been of the sort that would be used to comfort those living, but not Sherlock. It didn’t matter how Hilton had died, he was dead, and it was a death that could have been prevented. As he examined the body, John found it extremely hard to look at Hilton’s face. Thoughts of “if” were running through John’s brain as he looked at Hilton’s lifeless body: If he had just woken up earlier, if he and Sherlock took the room with two beds, if Y/N had the keys. Hilton’s eyes were still open, frozen in the instant of his death. John was sure if he looked close enough, he’d see what Hilton saw when he died. 

Meanwhile, Y/N occupied herself with the rest of the room. Her eyes refused to look at the body of the man she knew had been alive hours earlier. She wouldn’t–couldn’t let herself grieve. Hilton’s daughter was missing and that was her priority. As she walked about the room, Y/N’s mind pondered the words of the Inspector. He had believed Elise did it. He concluded that Elise shot her husband and then herself in the stomach. A shot that would have been fatal in most cases, but it seemed fate was merciful. The bullet had only skimmed her vital organs. 

Despite all the evidence pointing to the Inspector’s conclusion, Y/N knew that he was wrong. She believed it with every fiber of her being. 

Sherlock, on the other hand, pushed every ounce of feeling that boiled to the surface. This case was like any other, except that it wasn’t. He’d visited crime scenes before and that’s all they were–crimes. Crimes were built like puzzles: you’d have all the pieces–the facts, and then connect them together to see the truth. That’s all they were supposed to be, facts, yet now the facts were stories. They were smiles. They were fears. They were alive, well, not anymore. 

“Inspector?” Sherlock called out. The Inspector appeared in the doorway. “Has the body been moved?” 

“We haven’t moved anything except for Elise,” Inspector Martin explained. “We couldn’t leave her lying wounded on the floor.” 

Sherlock nodded his head as his mind placed Elise’s figure into the crime scene.  “Has anything been touched? Any evidence removed from the room?” Sherlock asked. 

The Inspector shook his head. “We’ve only had time to take photos of the scene before you arrived.  Oh, that reminds me, there are footprints.”

Sherlock turned around to face the Inspector. “Footprints?” 

“Yes, footprints by the window.” The Inspector pointed his fingers towards the window that hung open in the early morning air. Strange, thought Sherlock; Most people tended to keep their windows closed in the colder months. Then Sherlock quickly stepped closer to get a better view. There were indeed footprints underneath the window: dirt and grime still wet, from what Sherlock observed was the rain, was imprinted into the rug. Raising his brow, Sherlock peered outside the open window and looked down.

Pulling back from the view outside, Sherlock nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets before making his way around the room. He needed to find the puzzle pieces: the body, the gun, disturbed bed sheets, open window in the middle of November, footprints by the window, missing child, wife hospitalized with her haunted past, and the dancing men. 

Y/N watched Sherlock as he moved about the room as if he was in a dance. His feet were placed meticulously on the floor as he traced the steps in his mind. It was amazing to watch Sherlock work. Just from the look in his eyes, she knew the wheels in his brain were turning. Each image his eyes produced would be remembered. Each thought would be cataloged along with the evidence in his mind palace. It was a forlorn sense of beauty watching Sherlock. 

As the dance continued, Y/N noticed Sherlock pullout his phone. His fingers grazed the surface of the screen, quickly typing something before placing the device back into his pocket. 

“There was a third person,” Sherlock announced. 

Inspector Martin’s look of perpetual confusion grew. “What do you mean there was a third person?” It was almost a scoff. The noise continued to chip away at Sherlock’s patience. 

Sherlock’s eyes narrowed at the Inspector. “The footprints. Both inside the room and in the flower bed beneath the window.” Inspector Martin, cautiously meandered to the window to see, and indeed there were matching footprints in the flower bed below. 

“How did you even see it?” Inspector Martin asked in awe at the new evidence. 

Rolling his eyes Sherlock answered, “Because I looked for it.” John and Y/N held back a snicker. “Hilton–the body is barefooted,” Sherlock continued. “Elise Cubitt’s feet are too small to fit the ones underneath the window. Therefore–”

“Another person,” John finished. 

The Inspector glanced between Sherlock and John before clearing his throat. “Do you have any clue as to who?” 

Sherlock looked at John and Y/N. “No clue. But I believe that more evidence can be found in other rooms of the house. Where’s the child’s room?”

The Inspector was startled by Sherlock’s new demand but showed him and the others to the daughter’s room. 

A light pink and floral wallpaper lined the walls of the room. It was a delicate design that reminded Y/N of a magical forest you’d only see in fairytales. On the far side of the room there were two windows, one of which hung open with the latch undone. In between the windows lay a tiny oak bed that would fit a small child. The sheets were a snow-like white with numerous stuffed animals and toys on top. As Sherlock, John, and Y/N stepped further into the room, they noticed the set of drawers that lie open and disturbed. Clothes were scattered on the neighboring floor: dainty socks, dresses, shirts, trousers, t-shirts, jumpers, and even some shoes. 

The evidence in front of Y/N pointed to only one thing. “Sherlock–did he…”

“Not now, Y/N” Sherlock hushed. It wasn’t a dismissal of any sorts, but more a request for silence that Sherlock’s magnificent mind needed if he was to solve the case. 

Peering outside the open window, Sherlock observed, once again, the very same footprints found in Hilton’s room and in the flowerbed. In the blink of an eye, Sherlock darted out of the room and weaved between the officers on the scene to find himself outside.

By the time John, Y/N and unfortunately, Inspector Martin had caught up to him, Sherlock’s theory had been proven correct. The footprints outside the daughter’s window were deeper than the ones in the flower bed outside Hilton’s room. The culprit kidnapped Cubitt's daughter, causing a deeper impression in the dirt when he exited out the window. 

“Sherlock, what are you doing in the mud–” John began. 

“The daughter was kidnapped,” Sherlock stated as he got out of his crouched position on the ground. 

Y/N felt sick to her stomach as her fears were confirmed. Sherlock continued, “The foot impressions here are deeper than those in the flower bed underneath Hilton’s bedroom. The daughter’s room was in disarray as if the culprit was searching for clothes and other necessary things to care for the daughter. Then he made his escape with the materials and child in hand.” 

“Why?” Y/N muttered under her breath. 

Sherlock opened his mouth to supply Y/N with his theory, but Inspector Martin cut him off with his imprudent questioning. “Who do you suspect?” Martin asked again. 

Sherlock turned away from the Inspector and began to march to the rental car. “I don’t have a clue.” Then Sherlock looked over his shoulder and called, “John. Y/N.” 

Together the three of them left Inspector Martin dumbfounded standing in the garden with a completely new case and so many questions in his mind. 

_____

A wave of confusion befell John and Y/N as they sat in the rental car. It was a lie. Sherlock had lied to the Inspector. If they had learned anything from the consulting detective, it was how to catch a lie. Even so, Sherlock didn’t even try to conceal the fact that he withheld information from Inspector Martin. The man in question sat in the passenger's seat directing John as they drove along the winding roads of the Irish countryside. 

After a moment of silence from the trio, John released a vocalized sigh before turning his friend seated beside him. “Why’d you lie?”

Sherlock returned the sigh and that was an answer enough. John pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“They’re the police, Sherlock. You can’t just lie to them,” John muttered.  

“I can and did,” Sherlock said. 

“Sherlock,” Y/N hissed. He looked at her with expectant eyes. “You know who did it. Don’t you?”

Sherlock nodded. His eyes briefly scanned the cab’s surroundings as the car drove away from the Cubitt home to a destination only Sherlock knew; Although the destination was hardly a concern for the other passengers in the car. 

“How–how did you know?” Y/N asked. 

“I feel like I owe you both an explanation,” Sherlock began.

John let out a sarcastic chuckle. “An explanation would be nice. Also, where the hell am I driving to?”

“A place called Eldridge's Farm.”

“Right, exactly. Eldridge's Farm. How could I not have known?” John grumbled to himself. 

“John,” Y/N hissed. 

John glanced back at Y/N as he responded. “Sorry, it’s just–”

“I know and I get it. We are all feeling on edge, guilty, responsible, you name it. We are all together in this, but right now, we need Sherlock to answer some questions for us,” Y/N pleaded. John nodded in agreement and returned his sight to the road. 

“There are rules that every ‘secret’ code follows,” Sherlock explained. “From the first dancing men message, it was hard to decipher anything, but I was positive that one symbol stood for the letter E.”

“Why E?” John questioned.

“E is the most common letter in the English language, so it's expected that a small message would contain at least a few E’s. There were fifteen symbols in the first message and four of them were the same, so I made the reasonable conclusion that they must stand for E.”

“Huh, makes sense,” Y/N commented, her eyes filled with intrigue as Sherlock continued to reply to their questions. 

“But for the other symbols, I had to wait for the next messages in order to find their alphabet counterparts. Then it was a simple matter of using the next few common letters: T,A,O,I,N,S,H,R,D, and L. In the second message, there was one word that consisted of two E’s. Then I tried a few different words until I found one that fit.”

“So, then you knew what those symbols were? So, you could solve more words?” Y/N asked. 

Sherlock nodded. “Exactly. As I was going through this tedious process, it occurred to me that Elise’s name would be present in the message. With those letters discovered I continued my search until I was able to decode the first message: AM HERE ABE SLANEY.” Sherlock looked back at Y/N to gauge her reaction. His eyes were wide open as if he expected a specific answer from her. 

Y/N only responded with a confused look. “What? Am I supposed to know who that is?”

Sherlock rolled his eyes and returned to his original direction. “Abe Slaney is an American. The name ‘Abe’ is an American contraction of the name Abraham. This also factors in Elise’s mysterious past in the United States.”

“Sherlock,” Y/N chuckled. “Just because I’m American doesn’t mean that I know every American. The country is huge! It’s bigger than the United Kingdom.” Y/N had to bite her lip as Sherlock mumbled angrily under his breath, for someone quite smart he could be clueless. 

“Since the man is American, I called a frie–a colleague for more information and–” Sherlock was cut off by John. 

“You called your brother. Mycroft.” It wasn’t a question but more of a conclusion. 

Sherlock took in a deep breath through his nose. “It was my brother. That’s besides the fact, Abe Slaney is a gangster from Chicago and one of the most dangerous criminals there.” 

A silence fell over the car as John and Y/N consumed the information Sherlock had just given them. Soon a tapping was heard as John began to fiddle with the car’s steering wheel. 

“Eldridge's Farm. That’s where he’s at. Abe Slaney. We're driving right into the hands of a murderer and kidnapper.”

“We are driving to Eldridge's Farm; Abe does not reside there.”

Sherlock’s words did little to ease John. “You lied to the Inspector; you could be lying to me…” John mumbled under his breath. 

Y/N adjusted her sitting position and leaned forward so her head was between John and Sherlock. “Just tell me we won’t be doing anything illegal. I don’t want John nabbed by the cops again.” 

John shivered remembering what happened while they were solving the Blind Banker case. ”Yeah, I second that. Sherlock, no illegal stuff.” 

Sherlock did not give them an answer. 

_____ It was very much an action that would and could be considered illegal in a court of law. 

“You want me to do what?!” John gasped. 

“Break into the house,” Sherlock replied. “It’s easy. Break the glass and unlock the door.” John groaned. “You served in the military, John. This should be easy for you.” 

“Sherlock! If I remember correctly, breaking into someone’s home is a crime,” Y/N reprimanded.

“You’d be correct,” Sherlock agreed. 

Y/N raised her brows waiting for Sherlock to continue. At the very least, she wanted an explanation as to why they were breaking into a home. It was an explanation that did not come. 

“John, you don’t have to do this,” Y/N said as she approached John by the door. 

“No–I can. Sherlock! Why can’t you do it?” John questioned the curly headed detective. 

“My coat is not thick enough. If I broke the window the glass would cut into my skin and–” The sound of glass shattering stopped Sherlock further explaining further. 

“I did it,” Y/N muttered as she swung the door open. 

For a moment John and Sherlock shared the same look of bewilderment on their faces. 

“What?” Y/N looked back at them. “If anyone asks, it's because I’m American. It’s in my blood–I’m being sarcastic, just let’s go.” Then she entered Eldridge's Farmhouse. 

A quick expression of pride flashed on Sherlock’s face as he watched Y/N enter the home. Then he and John followed after her. 

“What exactly are we looking for?” Y/N asked as her eyes peered around the dark room. It was in the early hours of the morning where there was barely enough light illuminating through the windows. Y/N contemplated using the flashlight on her phone, before deciding against using such a bright light in a home that she broke into. 

“Elise and Hilton Cubitt’s daughter,” Sherlock stated. 

John and Y/N froze and turned to look at Sherlock’s dark figure. 

“You said Abe wasn’t going to be here!” John harshly whispered. “Sherlock!”

“I said Abe did not reside here. Eldridge's Farm is a BnB. Abe is a guest,” Sherlock clarified. 

John furrowed his brows and placed his hands on his hips as he muttered a few curses. 

“Hey, let’s focus more on finding the kid, calling the police, and getting out of here before a gangster from Chicago wakes up with intruders in his BnB!” Y/N quietly suggested. 

“John, take the rooms to the left. Y/N and I will take the rooms to the right,” Sherlock instructed. 

John grumbled a bit before sneaking his way to the room on the left side of the home, leaving Sherlock and Y/N alone in the dark. 

There was something so tranquil about standing in the living room of a home in which you were intruders. Though, Sherlock determined it was not that different from the frequent guests coming and going as they went about their travels. It was quiet and a small breeze snuck through the cracks in the glass causing a few goosebumps to creep onto his forearms. The other tiny bumps along his skin were from her. It was the only reason. They were alone. It was dark and he could feel her presence standing near him. He could hear the air pass through her lungs as it energized her existence. As they stood there, his mind thought of one thing; That night when he should have gone after her and molded his lips to her. It was that night he should have told her that just like the air in her lungs, her presence gave life to his universe. Sherlock cursed himself. This was the worst of times; he shouldn’t be thinking abou–

“Sherlock? Are you coming?” Y/N whispered. 

Suddenly, a bright light cascaded the room. Sherlock and Y/N briefly clenched their eyes shut before reorienting themselves. 

“I wouldn’t go anywhere if I were you.”

Under any other circumstance, Y/N would have been overjoyed to hear someone else speak like her. There was only so much of “you sound like a movie star” that she could handle. However, there was the context that the man who was speaking was a gangster with a gun to John’s head. Immediately Y/N froze in place as from the corner of her eye she saw Sherlock take a small step in front of her. 

“Abe Slaney,” Sherlock addressed the man. He had dirty blonde hair and dull blue eyes. He stood a few inches taller than John, but his height was still significantly smaller than that of Sherlock’s. However, everything about Abe screamed ‘threat’. 

“So,you know who I am. Bravo,” Abe said sarcastically. 

“You killed Hilton Cubitt,” Sherlock noted. 

“Again. Congratulations on figuring that out–”

“But Elise…” Sherlock continued as he chose his words carefully. 

Abe’s grip around John tightened. “What about her?”

“You killed her too.”

At this suggestion, Abe’s face paled. “What? I didn’t kill her–she!” Worry began to set in Abe’s face. “Elise…”

“Then what about the daughter?” Sherlock continued. 

Abe squeezed his eyes shut. The light reflected off the tears trickling down his face. “I LOVED HER!” Abe bellowed as he pointed the gun in Y/N and Sherlock’s direction. Y/N gasped and grabbed hold of Sherlock's arm as he placed himself farther in front of her. Sherlock’s clear gaze never faltered. 

Then a sob escaped Abe’s mouth. “I could have never hurt her. When I say that a man could never love another woman like I love her, I would be saying the absolute truth. She was mine until that–” Abe’s voice grew sour, “until Hilton took her away from me. I was only taking back what was mine!” 

“She was married, Abe.” 

Abe's sad expression grew into a sneer. “Until death do us part, right? That’s how it goes? But when I killed him, Elise, she tried to fight me. She had her–that man’s gun and was going to shoot me. I–” Abe began to cry again. The weapon found its resting place back on John’s head. “The gun. She–”

“So, you killed her,” Sherlock finished. 

“NO! No, I–she was still alive when I left. I called the police. She’s alive. She has to be.” 

John winced in pain as Abe constricted his airways. “Sherlock,” John groaned. “Maybe don’t anger the man with the gun to your friend’s head.”

Sherlock’s eyes briefly flashed with worry at John’s condition before continuing his interrogation. “Their daughter.” 

“She’s not his daughter. She’s–She looks so much like Elise,” Abe explained. 

“So, you thought, since you killed Elise, that you’d take her daughter instead?” Sherlock inquired. 

“I DIDN’T KILL ELISE!” 

“Sherlock!” Y/N whimpered as John flailed around in Abe’s arms. 

“Tell me about the code. Why the dancing men?”

Abe seemed to calm down with the change in subjects. “Elise’s father. He’s the boss. He wrote the code, so we could work in secret. Elise never liked that business, so when he came, she ran away. She was mine. We're supposed to be married. That kid was supposed to be mine, but she left me. I told her that I would find her again and I did.” 

As Abe relayed his story to them, Y/N couldn’t help but a prickling of fear spread all over her body. Abe was obsessed. He called it love, but he was possessed by Elise. The poor woman only wanted to get away. She wanted to be safe, and she was with Hilton. He never asked about her past. He never asked her to relive that horror and trauma, but Abe had found them and destroyed her peace. With how Abe acted, Y/N was beginning to fear the worst. He was a stalker, kidnapper, and murderer. Who knew what else he was willing to do at this point? It was all about Elise. All of his motives were for her. 

Y/N’s eyes widened as she came to a realization. Cautiously, she loosened her grip on Sherlock’s arm and stepped out from behind him. “Abe,” Y/N said softly and with as much gentleness and care she could muster, she continued to address him. “I can tell you really loved Elise.” Abe nodded. “Good. Now, think about what Else would want you to do. Would Elise really want you to take her daughter back to the business she hated?” 

Y/N could see the wheels turning in Abe’s head as he listened to her words. “No, she wouldn’t–” 

“See. Abe, can I tell you a secret?” Y/N waited for Abe nod. “The greatest act of love is letting the person you love go. If you love Elise as much as you say you do, then you need to let her go. You need to let her daughter go.” 

Abe’s face contorted as he fought with Y/N’s words. Sherlock could only watch as Y/N pleaded with Abe. She was beautiful. The panic in her eyes as it blended with the gentleness of her soul. He couldn’t take his eyes away, and for a moment Sherlock thought he never would be able to. She was magical–no that wasn’t the right word. Y/N was intelligent in a way Sherlock could never be and it was breathtaking. 

Slowly, the gun fell from John’s head and Abe let John go. Soon after the man collapsed to the ground in distraught. In his obsession, maybe he really did love Elise. It didn’t take long for Y/N to find Cubitt's daughter. The young girl really did bear a resemblance to her mother; a mother who was recovering from her life saving surgery in the hospital. 

Abe Slaney didn’t struggle as Inspector Martin placed dull handcuffs around his wrists. He kept his head down and his mouth shut as they led him out to the car. Just as the police opened the door to the guarded backseat of the patrol car, Abe snapped his head up as if he just remembered something. In a loud voice, he called out to Sherlock. 

“M says hello,” then the door was shut and Abe was gone. 

_____

Normally, once a case was over, the trio would call it a day and return to their lives at 221B Baker Street; However this was not a normal case. Elise was released from the hospital a week after her incident and a funeral for Hilton was held a few days afterward. Normally, Sherlock never attended funerals. The dead were dead and that was all he needed to know, but this wasn’t a normal funeral. 

They stood in the back. John, Y/N, and Sherlock, in that order, stood with their heads hung low. Each of them shared a sense of guilt as all the questions of ‘if’ from before filled their heads. Even if they didn’t pull the trigger, it felt like they helped aim. 

The service was nice. There was a lot of sentiment and a lot of condolences for Elise and her daughter. Y/N made sure to bring flowers to leave on Hilton’s grave, but once the flowers were placed, the three of them excused themselves. To them it felt like they were imposters imposing on the grief of a family, and not the heroes they were painted out to be. 

Not a word was said once, Y/N and Sherlock got back to their hotel room. The two kept to themselves as they prepared for their journey home. Y/N busied herself with packing, so long as her hands were busy she wouldn’t be able to think. Sherlock, on the other hand, had already packed and was forced to sit with his silence. Instead, he sat on his bed and his eyes were placed in the direction of the window, but Sherlock wasn’t looking at the view. He was trapped in his own mind. All the emotions and fears burst to the surface of his mind. Sherlock was forced to feel and he felt alone. 

It was the stillness that caught Y/N’s attention. Sherlock wasn’t really one to sit still in silence unless it was for a case, but even then there was much going on around him. After a few moments, the worry began to set in. Y/N left all thought of packing behind as she approached Sherlock’s bed. 

The scene in front of Y/N broke her heart. Sherlock’s lips were shaking as his eyes glossed over, yet not a sound was coming from him. Slowly, Y/N kneeled in front of Sherlock with one hand coming out rest on his hand and the other on his cheek. 

“Sherlock,” Y/N whispered as she feigned a comforting smile. “Sherlock.” His pupils dilated as they refocused on her. “I’m here.” Y/N took a deep breath. “You are not alone…It is not your fault.” Her eyes darted between him before she leaned in and entangled him in a hug. It was the best way to prove to him he was not alone. 

Sherlock devoured the warmth that came from Y/N’s body as he buried his head in the crook of her neck. Y/N was there with him. He wasn’t alone. He was in her arms and it felt like that was where he was always meant to be. In her arms, he was safe. In her arms, he was home. At that moment, Sherlock only thought of one thing. He didn’t think about Hilton. He didn’t think about the failure of a case. He didn’t think about Elise or Abe. At that moment, he knew he was in love. Sherlock loved Y/N.  

Pulling away from the hug, he bore into her marvelous eyes and saw the world. With each breath his gaze fell downwards until he saw her lips. The very lips he should have kissed all those days ago. At that moment, he didn’t care if she had a boyfriend. Sherlock didn’t care if she was his employee, a friend, and his neighbor. The only thing Sherlock cared about was tasting her lips and sharing a breath with her. He knew if he didn’t kiss her then, that every breath he took, every sip of water, and every wink of sleep would never be enough to sustain him. So he did. Sherlock brushed his lips against hers and decided that he wanted it all. With a desperation he never existed, Sherlock kissed Y/N and she kissed back. As Sherlock kissed and ignored his lung’s pleas for air, a voice echoed in his mind. 

“The greatest act of love is letting the person you love go.” 

All of a sudden, Sherlock remembered. Y/N had a boyfriend, she was happy and he was perfect. Sherlock was not, everyone was saying so. She was his assistant, his neighbor, and friend. She was practically Mrs.Hudson’s granddaughter. She was everything he couldn’t–shouldn’t have. 

The room felt colder as he pushed her away. He left her in the room as his legs retreated to the streets of Clifden. His shoes clacked across the sidewalks as his mind came to one conclusion: he was alone. 

______

Previous | Next

Author's note: after 117,809 words they finally kiss. I know, I'm all for the angst, but I promise that it will all be worth it. Please just hang in there. Also, thanks for reading and if you could show your support by commenting or reposting that would be amazing!! Great Game is up next!

Comment below if you would like to be added to the tag list!

Tag list: @bartokthealbinobat @biggerthancalli13 @themartiansdaughter @sunsumonner @silversword7000 @starlightaurorab @melody7 @astudyinlaura @sherlockstrangewolf @neroarrow83  @khaleesihavilliard @agentxx92 @yourleastfavoriteguyinthechair @afigisnotalwaysafruit @selcouthangel

#bbc sherlock #sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes #sherlock bbc #john watson #i am sherlocked #reader insert #sherlock x you #fanfic #sherlock angst #love confessions #bbc sherlock x reader #bbc!sherlock #female reader #x reader #reader #doctor john waston #the dancing men #crime #solve the case #sherlock fanfic #sherlock fandom #sherlockbbc #american!reader #Clifden Ireland #Sherlock has emotions #Sherlock gives in #sherlock x yn #use of y/n

[ebiemidnightlibrarian]

𝕺𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖗 𝕱𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖔𝖒𝖘

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐋

𝑻𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒔

𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒊𝒏 𝑻𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 | 𝑻𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒔 𝒙 𝑴𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒏𝒕!𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 — 𝑻𝑩𝑨 [𝒐𝒏𝒆-𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕]

𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒗𝒆 𝑹𝒐𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒔

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒆𝒔𝒕 | 𝑺𝒕𝒆𝒗𝒆 𝑹𝒐𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒔 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 — 𝑻𝑩𝑨 [𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒕-𝒇𝒊𝒄]

𝑫𝒐𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒓 𝑺𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆

𝑳𝒂𝒅𝒚 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒖𝒔𝒕* | 𝑫𝒐𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒓 𝑺𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 — 𝑻𝑩𝑨 [𝒐𝒏𝒆-𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕]

𝑫𝒓𝒚𝒂𝒅* | 𝑫𝒐𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒓 𝑺𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 — 𝑻𝑩𝑨 [𝒐𝒏𝒆-𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕]

*the names might change later

𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝

𝑫𝒓. 𝑷𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒑 𝑲. 𝑫𝒆𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒓 𝒂𝒌𝒂 𝑶𝒍' 𝑩𝒖𝒕𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆

𝑭𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒉 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝑭𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒚 | 𝑷𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒑 𝑫𝒆𝒄𝒌𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝑵𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒆𝒅!𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 — 𝑻𝑩𝑨 [𝒐𝒏𝒆-𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬

𝑫𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒚 𝒁𝒃𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒌

𝑯𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒂 𝑻𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 | 𝑫𝒐𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒚 𝒁𝒃𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒂𝒌 𝒙 𝑳𝒊𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒂𝒏!𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 — 𝑻𝑩𝑨 [𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒕-𝒇𝒊𝒄]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐁𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞

𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝑯𝒖𝒎𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒌

𝑷𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒔 & 𝑺𝒆𝒂 𝑾𝒂𝒗𝒆𝒔 | 𝑷𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝑯𝒖𝒎𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒙 𝑷𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒆!𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 — 𝑻𝑩𝑨 [𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒓𝒕-𝒇𝒊𝒄]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐇𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐰

𝑫𝒓. 𝑭𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝑵' 𝑭𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓

𝑰𝒏𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒚 | 𝑭𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒌 𝑵 𝑭𝒖𝒓𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑺𝒄𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒔𝒕!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 — 𝑻𝑩𝑨 [𝒐𝒏𝒆-𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕]

𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐁𝐁𝐂

𝑺𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌 𝑯𝒐𝒍𝒎𝒆𝒔

𝑴𝒖𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝑰𝒔 𝑶𝒏 | 𝑺𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌 𝑯𝒐𝒍𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒙 𝑭𝒆𝒎!𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 — 𝑻𝑩𝑨 [𝒐𝒏𝒆-𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕]

#sherlock bbc x reader #frank n' furter x reader #prince humperdink x ofc #prince humperdink x reader #dr. decker x reader #dr. decker x ofc #dorothy zbornak x ofc #dorothy zbornak x reader #talos marvel x reader #talos marvel x ofc #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x ofc #doctor strange x ofc #doctor strange x reader #ebie's masterlist #ebie's writing

[kl4us4]

KL4US’s MASTERLIST

stranger things, umbrella academy, sherlock, the 100, daredevil blog previously known as: octavia-marie-blake.

DAREDEVIL

MATTHEW MURDOCK

fear of god (x f!reader, on-going) - working as an investigative journalist, trailing a string of murders has you running to matthew murdock - and daredevil - for help

can't let you go (x f!reader) - when matty shows up beaten and bruised - again - you’re not sure how much more you can take.

STRANGER THINGS

STEVE HARRINGTON

shoot to kill (x f!reader) - my words shoot to kill when I'm mad, I have a lot of regrets about that

caught (x f!reader) * - fucking bf!steve in front of billy

morning (x f!reader) * - morning sex w bf!steve

a new hope (x reader) - forcing steve to watch star wars so that he can get a job at the video store

EDDIE MUNSON

the chain (x f!reader) - hawkins, indiana. 1986. it's your senior year at Hawkins High and everything's supposed to be easy - until a night in Eddie's trailer has you both running for your lives.

begin again (x reader) - dealing with the aftermath of eddie surviving, but not being accepted back into hawkins

everything (x f!reader) - your family don’t seem to care much about your birthday - but there’s one person willing to make it extra special for you.

light and high beauty (x f!reader) - a calm afternoon spent listening to eddie read aloud at his place.

mr. rager (x f!reader) - eddie's desire to fit in has never resurfaced as much as it does while watching you gain attention from the popular crowd. things get messy when jason targets eddie, yet again

'broken nose' kind of protective (x f!reader) - eddie loves his uncle - he's almost a father to him. he just hates when he brings his rowdy, disrespectful friends to the trailer park.

matilda (x f!harrington!reader) - you had held off from telling your parents about your metalhead boyfriend. at the cusp of your anniversary, eddie feels like your parents should know about the two of you.

UMBRELLA ACADEMY

KLAUS

churchyard (x f!reader) - he communicates with spirits, you communicate with angels

a perfect world (x reader) - reader dies suddenly but is still able to see klaus

quiet (x reader) - your power gives you the ability to create silence

caught (x reader) - being caught by klaus stealing from the happily departed reginald hargreeves

the same (x f!reader) - leaving rehab at the same time as klaus and being there for him during s1 [I II III]

close and beautiful (x reader) - being back by klaus' side through difficult and confusing times

action (x reader) - a city akin to gotham yet no vigilante to guard its citizens - until one day, there is

11 years older and 22 inches taller (x reader) - you're happily dating klaus but five seems to have a small crush on you [I II]

hold on (x reader) - as Klaus’ best friend, you had to deal with your fair share of incidents where he’s pushed himself over the edge - but none like this

BEN

landslide (x reader) - trying to live life without him

perfect (x f!plussize!reader) - ben is so certain you're perfect, he wishes you knew it too

FIVE

go best friend (x bestfriend!reader) - being friends with five is always fun

DIEGO

take care of you (x gn!reader) - after diego comes home late, you share some cuddles and love

nothing breaks like a heart (x f!reader) - you and diego are in love but it breaks his younger brothers heart

meeting grace (x reader) - you finally get to meet your boyfriend's mom

the whole truth (x lawyer!reader) - diego is on trial, you're his lawyer and he does not make it easy

beautiful boy (x m!reader) - you never miss a chance to tell diego how beautiful you think he is

alone now (x reader) - diego asking you to marry him

read all about it (x journalist!reader) - when you see a former superhero from the Umbrella Academy follow five armed robbers into a bank, you just know you have to get the full story

SHERLOCK HOLMES (BBC)

bad men (x f!reader) - sherlock needs your help - after all, you're the best assassin in london

bearer of bad news (x f!reader) - it's all too much - the cases, the heinous crimes, handling Sherlock's cold remarks - and you snap

#steve harrington x reader #klaus hargreeves x reader #diego hargreeves x male!reader #diego hargreeves x reader #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock bbc x reader #ben hargreeves x reader #matthew murdock x reader #matt murdock x reader #daredevil x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader

[doflamingadonquixote]

Even the devil was once an angel | [2/?]

Summary: You are a psychiatrist and decide to play a dangerous game with the worst of criminal minds. Or: you're a bit bored too.

Pairing: Jim Moriarty x Fem!Reader

Chapter word count:

Warning: +18, mind games, angst and smut, hurt/comfort, stalker!Moriarty (Jim Moriarty is his own warning)

Previous Chap: 1

James Moriarty decides to show up assiduously for every appointment. You find a change in the tenth session.

You didn't think the consulting criminal was so competitive when it came to winning a bet on his superiority. You had, by mutual agreement, arranged two days a week where he was to come to your office and at the appointed times.

You had no intention of accepting his offer to give you an entire attic just for his sessions. The egocentric little bastard had to be a real patient if he wanted to continue playing the game.

After several positive feedbacks in putting stakes in your relationship, you had ventured to put a time limit on your work.

You had asked for a year, a year without having the pressure and the unawareness that, at any moment, Moriarty might shoot you in the head.

He simply laughed at you and rejected your request with a: "Where would be the fun in that?".

By studying him, confronting him, listening to him you had come to the conclusion that he was seriously suffering from a psychopathic personality disorder.

He often enjoyed constructing stories. And with those stories he would put you in great difficulty.

He was so adept at lying that when he finally asked you: "Truth or lie?" You were faced with a Pandora's box that you didn't know whether you wanted to open.

Another thing that made you curious and confirmed your assumptions was the nervous jerks that lit him up like a fuse. You thought you heard your secretary knocking things off the desk, out of the office, when Moriarty's scream came suddenly.

Even so, with a few more sittings, you had managed to avoid touching any sore buttons that would upset the man in front of you.

He always sat at your desk, creating a position of authority over you and often played with the objects distributed on the surface.

You lowered your eyes and found the pencils neatly and straight, arranged next to the laptop. He had already been inside for several minutes and they were still there, neatly arranged.

Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a tennis ball bouncing violently against said pencils, breaking the order, and then landing on your lap. 

You tried to hold back a smile as you lifted the toy and brought it before your eyes.

Another thing you'd discovered about Jim Moriarty was how much he loved disorder and chaos, and that anything that wasn't to his mental standards had to be torn down.

“So, doc, truth or lie?”

He rocked back against the swivel chair, terribly discombobulated as he let his back slide down.

You opened the notepad on which you had jotted down summary diagrams to help you determine the information he had given you during the session. He tried to peek from your position, raising his posture slightly, but you lifted the notebook so that he would not read.

“You're not a maths professor but you probably wish you were, considering the way you frowned when talking about the poor university performance, almost as if to remedy it.”

Moriarty crossed his hands over his belly covered by a dark blue linen shirt and gloated at your deductions.

“It's not true that you have contact with your family, your lack of empathy and your criminal record would prevent you from having relations with them.”

His offended sigh distracted you from your next remark. He had an exaggeratedly shocked expression on his face and his right hand had risen to rest where, you presumed, his heart lay.

“I'm offended, doc. I pride myself so much on the relationship I have built over the years with my little brother.”

Your eyes focused on the notebook to prevent the criminal from understanding your reaction and, to make it more believable, you made more of a circle around the word 'brother'.

Moriarty sneered as he straightened in his chair.

“But don't bother conferring with the old Ice Man. I've been very thorough in erasing traces of the past.”

You gave him a sad smile that hid the strong sense of disappointment.

“Ever heard of attorney-client privilege, Mr. Moriarty?”

He made a thoughtful groan but didn't add anything else. 

You really believed that the therapy was progressing at the right pace. Moriarty had even gone so far as to turn his conversations into something very close to a confession.

But suddenly, the perfectly mapped out road you had built up to that moment collapsed in on itself and you with it.

That day you were quietly listening to the reflections of one of your young patients. He was one of those somewhat hesitant ones, who are never quite sure whether to say the right thing or not, so building up a sort of confidence had taken you many weeks.

And James Moriarty had probably managed in two seconds to overwhelmingly destroy it.

That day he entered your office with a frightening carriage, leaving behind your secretary's frantic pleas for him to politely stay out of the session and wait.

His footsteps were heavy and for the first time you found him locked in one of his best dark suits.

He crossed the threshold and dropped into his usual chair, placing his leather shoes on your computer on the desk.

“They're unbearably fucking boring!” He dropped his head back, colliding with the backrest and sighed audibly. “How can you be so blind to such a clear clue!”

Your confusion quickly turned to anger as you watched the young secretary look from Moriarty to you with a startled and agitated expression.

In addiction, the boy on your couch had curled in on himself, and he too had his gaze focused on the newcomer.

Swallowing the lump that had blocked your breath for a few seconds, you forced your body to react in the most natural way possible.

With an apparent calm, you stood up and offered your hand to your client who took it, albeit hesitantly.

“I'm sorry for the inconvenience, Thomas, but it seems I have an emergency to attend to.”

You walked him to the door, reassuring him that the session would not be paid for and to make an appointment as soon as possible with your secretary. You left him in her care and closed the door with a snap.

Showing menace towards the most dangerous man in London, and (why not) perhaps the world, wasn't the smartest thing you could do, but James Moriarty had quickly gotten under your skin, irritating you to the point of exhaustion.

Your fists clenched spasmodically and you could feel your nails pushing painfully against your palms. Your cold face changed to an offended and furious frown as you watched the man at your desk.

“I am quite sure Lucia informed you that I was busy.”

You finally caught his attention and he arched his neck to look at you.

“And I'm supposed to care about that?” He asked undisturbed, as he probed you from head to toe. He was probably enjoying your first human reaction to his person. 

“It should.” You bit your tongue to avoid adding that you doubted his respect, however, and moved a few steps closer to prevent your words from reaching those outside the door.“He is a patient in real need of assistance and you have interrupted his time, Mr. Moriarty.”

He shrugged, sneering. 

“So am I, didn't you hear what I said earlier?”

He was clearly poking at you now, and you were getting pulled in.

“To you this is all just a stupid game. A way to fill the void that your, oh so immense, knowledge cannot fill.”

You spat out the words in anger and judgment, which didn't suit you at all and was extremely unprofessional.

He raised his hands as if a weapon had been pointed at him and you feared his sniper would threaten you again at any moment.

“Forgive me, doc, for giving you that feeling. What can I do about it?” His voice was clearly mocking.

“Get those shoes off my desk and sit on the couch like any fucking therapy patient.”

Your throat suddenly went dry, preventing you from hurling yourself at Moriarty again and, in the several seconds of silence that sliced the air, the criminal got up and went to sit comfortably in the armchair you had so quietly suggested to him.

You remained staring at the empty desk for a few seconds until a shaky, uncertain breath finally left your constricted lungs. 

You analysed yourself. James Moriarty had taken you by surprise. You had not pre-set your attitude, which helped keep the man from reaching your personal sphere as a human being and not as a doctor. 

And by barging in like that he had managed to get around the barrier and intrude.

You raised a hand, massaging your forehead and pinching the base of your nose as if to regain some semblance of self-control.

“I apologise for my behaviour. I stepped out of character.”

Moriarty was looking at you intently and for the first time you thought he was taking you seriously.

Your back touched the chair you were sitting on a few minutes earlier and you sighed.

“The robot attitude wouldn't hold for long, I assure you. I like you, doctor. Maybe we can be friends.”

His comment made you laugh unwillingly.

“I'm your analyst, not your friend.”

“One doesn't exclude the other, does it?”

You opened your notebook but didn't comment. His words suddenly seemed very real to you, very meaningful. Moriarty had always been good with words, with his eyes, with his body language.

Stupidly, in the midst of his complaints about Sherlock Holmes and Dr Watson, you wondered what it would be like to be friends with an internationally known criminal.

#jim moriarty #jim moriarty x reader #female reader #bbc sherlock #sherlock fandom #sherlock fanfic #sherlock holmes #angst and smut #hurt/comfort #terapist to friend #friend to lovers #male yandere #mind manipulation

[asgards-princess-of-mischief]

Last Updated: 2023-11-30

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

❧ Holmes Family, the by victoriaholmeswriting • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "When refusing to dress up for Halloween results in an argument with his wife, Sherlock re-evaluates his priorities and tries to make it right."

❧ Truth Behind It, the by specialagentlokitty • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Prompt(s): "Person A loves Halloween, but sees that Person B hates it. A wants to find out why, but B doesn't want to say it."

❧ Are You Jealous by imeternallylove • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❧ Halloween at 221B by jpat82 • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❧ Haunted House by randomfandomimagine • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❧ Just Walk by specialagentlokitty • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❧ Pumpkin Carving by classickook • 〔F〕 •

❧ Ridiculous Costumes￨Prt. II by thepokyone • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❧ Seasonal Starbucks by dyns33 • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❧ Skeletons and Sugar Rushes by thepokyone • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❧ Tis the Season by make-me-imagine • 〔F〕 •

❧ Warm Enough by prettyxlittlexwriter • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

See Also: Navigation | BBC!Sherlock Master Index

Authors: @classickook || @dyns33 || @imeternallylove || @jpat82 || @make-me-imagine || @prettyxlittlexwriter || @randomfandomimagine || @specialagentlokitty || @thepokyone || @victoriaholmeswriting ||

#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

[iamsherlocked1479]

Don't be a brat

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: smut orgasm denial, kinda shaming?, domination

A/N: (The song linked is what dissosate in class whlie thinking about Sherlock with take that as you will)

Don't be a brat around sherlock hun :)

——————————

It had been a long day, at least he thought it had been a day. In reality Sherlock had missed the dinner you had planned that evening, that evening being three days ago. He was off galaventing on a case with John, a tradition you were all too familiar with, he didn’t understand the long silences you gave him when he returned, he didn’t understand that all he really needed to do was apologise.

“I’m sorry, is there something wrong?” He said as you passively aggressively placed his tea down, causing it to splash over the rim of the cup.

“No i'm absolutely fine.” You say bluntly as you walk into the bedroom. Any normal guy would have instantly known his girlfriend was not in fact “fine” but Sherlock lived his life enjoying the fact he was unlike anyone else, so he obviously didn’t realise this. You spent the evening in your shared bedroom reading John's blog, mildly jealous that he had spent more time with Sherlock than you had in the past week.

It was around 2:30 am when you felt sherlocks lips against your neck, and the rest of him poking you in the back. Your tried your best to stay mad at him, you really did, but when his hand trailed across your chest as he continued sucking and biting at your neck and then again how his hand slid down your body, lower and lower until he ran it up and down your clothed core moaning at the sensation over the fact that you where already soaked.

“Oh love, you’ve missed me haven’t you.” He pulled the covers off you and climbed on top of you, continuing to kiss your chest and throat. You moaned softly trying not to admit you were mad at him, you were really trying. You thought you’d play a little game, make him think he was getting what he wanted, make him want it then deny him, something he’d done to you so many times.

You ran your hands through his curls and pushed his head towards you cleavage where he gladly began suckinging on your nipples while his fingers drew circles on your core, pulling slightly at your panties. Your hands move from his head to his chest where you slowly undid the buttons to his purple shirt throwing it somewhere across the room. He spun you both around so that you straddled his waist, you moaned as his cock pressed against your cunt, straining in his trousers. You rocked in his lap while your hands made quick work on his belt and trousers.

“Easy girl.” He laughed and began pushing your hips down onto him.

“You’re desperate for it aren’t you?” You finally spoke, his grip tightened around your waist at your words,

“Watch your tongue love.” He said moaning over the sensation of your grinding. He used his fingers to pull off your panties and pressed his thumb to your clit as you worked on him.

He lifted his hips allowing you to remove his trousers, you gasped at his cock springing out. You couldn’t get enough of him, one might even say you had gotten an addiction to his cock, it filled you so well.

You crouched down and pumped him in your hands, that thought of teasing him drifted through your mind and you smirked watching his face as you gently licked his tip. He hissed begging for more as you licked another stripe up his length.

“Sweetheart stop teasing” he looked at you with a dark light in his eye. You just smiled and watched as you licked another stripe

“What's wrong? Tired of waiting? ” you went to lick another stripe but he grabbed your jaw stopping you.

“If you’re going to act like a brat I'll treat you like one.” 

You don't know why you did this but you narrowed your eyes and smirked. “Try me sherlock holmes.” And with that somehow he had you pinned face down on the mattress, the sound of fabric snapping filled the room subdued by your grunt as you realised he pulled off your panties and shoved himself inside you. You opened your mouth to moan but nothing came out, you just squinted and gripped the bedsheets as you felt his breath behind your ear.

“What's wrong darling? Regretting anything yet?.” He smiled as he pulled out and pushed himself back in harder. “Come on, use your words” he purred and repeated his motions. He snaked his hands down to your ass where he landed a firm slap and gripped the fat.

“Fuck- i-“ you whimpered as he pounded into you 

“You’re what? Come on spit it out, i might let you cum sweetheart.” He smirked as slowed down his rhythm allowing him to slowly sink deeper into you causing a long drawn out moan to escape from your lips.

“I’m sorry!” You cried out tears running down your face, the need you had to let go was almost painful “fuck sherlock please let me cum!” You begged as he laughed and turned you over and trailed kisses along your chest.

“If you’re sorry, I'll let you cum, are you sorry?”

“Yes, i’m sorry, should have never-

“No, no” he cut you off. If you should have told me if my case was getting in the way of your needs.” He pressed his thumb to your clit “I would never want to leave you wanting me.” He was letting his ego take over now, he pushed in again slowly while his free hand worked on your clit. “Look at me sweetheart.” 

“Fuuck.” You cried out looking at the way he grinned everytime he went deeper into you, he was dragging this out, getting off over the sounds of your moans and the motion of your squirming,

“That's it, let me in.” He said pushing himself all the way to the hilt. He let out a loud sigh when he felt his tip scraping on that point inside you. 

You could feel it building up inside you, it was as if your nerves were on fire, you rocked your hips with his thrusts building up close to extinguish the fire. He could feel your walls clenching, he could tell you were close by the way you acted so focused, eyes closed, hips rocking in time with him.

“Good girl, make yourself cum around my cock. Thats it, come on, fuck i’ll come with you.” His thrust became more desperate, your moans became music to his ears, he came as you did, moaning at the sensation of your nails digging into his biceps.

“Oh fuck.” You sighed as he rolled next to you, kissing your neck through his scattered breaths. 

“I’ll take some time off.” He finally spoke “no cases, no john, just you, just me and you.”

#benedict cumberbatch x female!reader #benedict cumberbatch #bbc sherlock #sherlock x reader #spotify #sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes x female!reader #sherlockbbc #Spotify

[strangesthirdeye]

✧Masterlist✧

heh, this is my first Masterlist so I'm still trying to learn how to use Tumblr don't be mad and yeah I'll still try to add my work for the future. And I'm the type of person who doesn't take requests because I don't believe in myself to fulfill the ideas you give me to make so I only make fanfics based on my ideas only because for me it's comfortable and makes it easy for me to write.

Because I'm the type of person who is slow to update and I don't like requests that are given to wait a long time... Stay tuned eh?

-DB

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Sherlock Holmes (BBC)

• Forever (Sherlock x dead! Wife reader)

• Sixth Sense (Sherlock x platonic! Reader)

• Too Many Secrets (Sherlock x twin sister! Reader)

• A detective and a part time dad (Sherlock x Wife! Reader ft Baby)

• Listen Before I Go (Sherlock x Fem! Reader)

• Sherlock² ( Sherlock x Fem Sherlock! Reader)

• Being Sherlock's wife and going through the pregnancy would include

Doctor Strange (Marvel)

• Unspoken Love ⟬ series ⟭

•A Silent Voice (S.Strange x Mute! Female reader)

• Husband Material (Defender Strange x wife! Reader)

• I Can't Handle Change (S.Strange x Fem! Reader)

• No Way ( S. Strange x wife! Reader)

Doctor Who (BBC)

• Lost in Time and Space ⟬ series ⟭ ⫷ Marvel x Doctor Who ⫸

• Little Companion (10th Doctor x child! Reader)

• Adore (10th/14th Doctor x fem! Reader)

Good Omens (BBC)

• Star Mini Series ⟬ Series ⟭ ⫷ Ineffable hubbys x daughter! reader ⫸

• Being blind and dating Crowley would include:

• Human dating Aziraphale would include:

• Little Star (Ineffable Husbands x toddler! Reader)

• Being short and married to Ineffable Hubbys would include:

• Our Star (Ineffable Hubbys x baby fem! Reader)

Loki Laufeyson (Marvel)

•Under the root of Yggdrasil (Loki x Fem! Reader)

Severus Snape

•Late Night Potions (Severus Snape x wife! Reader)

• In The Afterlife (Severus Snape x Dead! Reader)

#benedict cumberbatch x reader #bbc shows #david tennant #bbc sherlock x reader #doctor who #sherlock holmes x reader #benedict cumberbatch #doctor stephen strange #doctor strange x female reader #doctor strange x reader #david tennant x reader #incorrect sherlock quotes #incorrect marvel cinematic universe #incorrect doctor who quotes #incorrect good omens quotes #good omens x reader #good omens #the doctor #marvel mcu #good omens 2 #aziraphale x reader x crowley #crowley good omens x reader #aziraphale x reader #loki x reader #doctor who x reader #severus snape x reader #egon spengler x reader #incorrect ghostbusters quotes #incorrect harry potter quotes #egon spengler

[iobsessoverfictionalmen]

If you want to be tagged when I update, fill out the taglist form in my bio or send me an ask!

#my writing #my fics #harry potter #bbc sherlock #harry potter x bbc sherlock #reader insert #female reader #remus lupin #sirius black #mycroft holmes #golden trio era #remus lupin x sirius black #past remus lupin x reader #past sirius black x reader #past wolfstar x reader

[my-head-is-an-animal]

The Sitter

Mycroft Holmes x Bethany Wheeler (OFC)

Rating: 18+ MINORS DNI

Summary: Set a little before John and Mary's wedding, Mary's friend Bethany Wheeler is a student studying Chemistry and Mycroft notices her. Not just notices, but takes an avid and intense interest in her. Mycroft Holmes is not a man to dive head first into any kind of relationship, but to imagine for a moment that he might deserve to be loved, well, that is a far off dream, rivalling that of a fantasy. Can Bethany change his mind? Or will the Final Problem be too much to bear?

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17 | Chapter 18 | Chapter 19 | Chapter 20 | Chapter 21 | Chapter 22 

Mycroft Holmes Fic List

If you liked this, please consider supporting me ☕ thanks for reading!    

#Mycroft Holmes #mycroft holmes x reader #mycroft holmes x ofc #mycroft x original female character #bbc sherlock #mycroft holmes fanfiction

[j-eryewrites]

We're back baby!

Here's a sneak peek into the next Arbitrary Lives chapter! Eek, I'm so excited to finally be writing again. God this will be such a fun chapter to write, and I can't wait for y'all to read what's to come between Y/N and Sherlock!

“Save your questions for the Inspector,” the officer replied.  Sherlock’s jaw clenched. He looked as if he wanted to strangle the man and add another body to the crime scene. Y/N grabbed Sherlock’s hand. Her finger intertwined delicately with his. Once interlocked, her thumb ran across his thumb to let him know he wasn’t alone. John and Y/N were there alongside him. Sherlock wasn’t alone.

#bbc sherlock #sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock x reader #i am sherlocked #sherlock bbc #reader insert #john watson #sherlock x you #fanfic #arbitrary lives #the arbitrary lives of the occupants of 221b baker street #sherlock fanfic #bbc!sherlock #bbc sherlock x reader #sherlock is sherlock #sherlockbbc #female reader #sherlock reader insert