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asgards-princess-of-mischief · 5 months

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Last Updated: 2024-02-06

Disclaimer: I am not the author of these stories, just sharing my favourite BBC!Sherlock Holmes stories. Find the authors' links below. If you want your work removed, message me privately.

✑ 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 ||

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daydreamtofiction · 3 months

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Thou Shalt Not Covet // 10: Baptism

Contents | Part 9 | First Person Version [AO3]

Summary: (Priest!Benedict x Female Reader) The morning after stirs up a new Ellis, one who returns home with a newfound fire.

Word Count: 4.8K

Warnings: Strong language, irreverence, dark humour, religious imagery, sexual references, scenes of verbal & physical conflict. Readers must be 18+

"Shit."

You stirred slowly at the sound of Father Benedict's voice, his weight disappearing from beside you, making the mattress bounce and the bed frame creak.

"Shit. Shit, shit, shit shit." The words left him in a panicked hiss, each utterance catching between his teeth.

You opened one eye, vision fuzzy in the dull morning light, too tired to make sense of what was happening. Why was he swearing? Had he already begun to regret what you'd done?

He hurried across the bedroom in a blur of bare skin and frantic whispers, hopping and stumbling into a pair of underpants as he made his way towards the window.

"What's wrong?" you croaked, watching as he craned around the curtain, peering down towards the ground outside.

A knock at the front door answered your question. He ducked down quickly, adjusting himself in his pants as he slowly rose back up again. Another knock.

"Fuck," he whispered. "Shit, fuck-"

"Father?" a distant voice called out. "Father, are you in there?"

"Is that June?" you asked quietly, eyes widening as you sat up and clutched the duvet to your bare chest, as though the sound of her voice alone was enough to make you feel indecent.

He groaned despairingly into his hands as she knocked again, calling out to him with concern through the letterbox.

"What's going on?" you whispered. "Why is she here?"

"Because I- shitting hell," he hissed. "I overslept."

"For what?"

"Morning bloody prayer. I can't believe I-" He stopped, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath before unlatching the window and pushing it open. "June! June, up here," he shouted, waving down at her with an apologetic smile. "I am... so sorry, I- I wasn't feeling well last night and I've slept in."

"You slept in?" she replied. Her voice was faint, the wind carrying most of it away. "But I've already opened the church doors-"

"No, no that's fine. Really, I just have to get dressed and then I'll be there."

"Well people've already started arriving. What do I do in the meantime?"

"Tell her to try out some of her standup material," you muttered from the bed.

He choked back a laugh and swatted his hand at you, like a silent telling off. "Just-" He cleared his throat, taking a moment to straighten his face. "Just tell them I'm running late but shouldn't be more than a few minutes."

You weren't sure if she said anything else after that - the woman tended to mumble at the best of times - but the sound of her footsteps fading over the gravel driveway made it clear she was retreating.

Father Benedict shut the window and turned around, blowing out a puff of air as he leaned back against the wall. "I can't believe I overslept."

"You were up late, to be fair," you replied.

He allowed his eyes to wander, just for a moment, over the messy bed, your bare thigh peeking through a gap in the duvet. "Still," he began, shaking it away and rushing to the wardrobe. "I have a responsibility to my congregation, I can't just... not show up, it's..."

You sat quietly as he rummaged through his clothes, hanger hooks screeching as he moved them back and forth along the rail. He pulled out a shirt and shrugged it on, turning towards you as he buttoned it up.

"This isn't how I'd ideally have liked this morning to go. But I shouldn't be gone for more than a couple of hours," he said. "I lead prayer, then afterwards I host a small social meet for some elderly members, but it won't take long."

Your back straightened slightly. "Y-you... want me to stay here while you're gone?"

"Yeah," he replied casually as he grabbed a pair of trousers and stepped into them. "Unless- Do you have to be somewhere?"

"No- well, not until later."

"Okay. Just... help yourself to something to eat, preferably stay away from the windows-"

You giggled.

"And I'll drive you home when I get back."

"You really don't have to-"

"I want to."

You conceded, nodding softly and settling back against the headboard.

He pulled open a drawer and grabbed a pair of socks before hooking his fingers into his shoes and making his way towards the door. "Okay, back soon."

"You might want to fix your hair," you called out.

He stopped, turning back to look at you as he ran a hand through the wild locks. "Better?"

"It'll do."

You sat on the back doorstep of the rectory, warming your hands on a mug of tea as you watched your dress blowing on the washing line. Last night's storm had given way to a mild morning, but the wind still had a bite, making the dress flutter and dance in the air, the bright yellow fabric billowing like a flag at full mast. You never drank tea; why you'd chosen to make some now was a mystery. It just felt right, the kind of thing a normal person would do whilst they sat waiting for clothes to dry.

The garden was quaint and secluded, a boarder of thick bushes and tall trees beyond the mossy stone walls, enclosing the small pocket of green in total privacy. You sipped your tea as birds chirped and bounced from tree to tree, the smell of the toast you'd made still drifting out from the kitchen.

Maybe this kind of life wouldn't be so bad, you thought. You were sure you could learn to like tea, hang washing on the line every morning, make breakfast as birds sang beyond the garden wall. You could bake cakes for parish fundraisers, have a bunch of kids and give them 'sensible' names like Jacob or Charlotte, take them to mass every weekend, say grace around the dinner table. Maybe it wouldn't matter that you didn't actually believe in any of it, because once the church doors closed and the kids went to bed, it'd be just the two of you. And he already knew, but he wanted you anyway.

"God, Ellis, get a grip," you muttered. "One night together and suddenly you're the pastor's wife."

You rose to your feet, pausing on the doorstep to gaze up at a blanket of soft grey clouds rolling in overhead. It was going to rain again, you thought. You made your way back into the kitchen and tipped the last of the tea down the drain, swilling the mug with water and drying it with a tea towel. It was nice to see an empty sink; no plates covered in dried food, no wet, grimy sponges or wine glasses rimmed with Gina's lipstick.

Gina.

Your stomach turned at the thought of her; how she was probably at home right now waiting for you to come back, or maybe she didn't even care that you were gone. Could you even call that place home anymore? Home was supposed to be a sanctuary; a place of warmth, comfort, safety. Yet all that house seemed to be was a collection of closed doors, strangers with familiar faces and rooms you never spent time in.

The sound of the front door latch made you still, a click followed by a creak, footsteps moving through the house towards you. For a moment you worried it may not be him, how you would explain why you were there, alone, wearing clothes that didn't belong to you. But the fear was fleeting, quelling instantly when a deep, rich voice chimed from the living room.

"Ellis? Are you still here?"

"Yeah, I'm in here," you replied.

He stepped halfway through the door with a smile; the same smile you'd come to look forward to whenever you arrived at church. It was charming, gracious, every inch of his face brightening the moment he laid eyes on you. You smiled back, though you weren't sure you could ever produce an expression as naturally warm as his.

"Hi," he said.

"Hi."

"Look what I found." He moved further into the kitchen, revealing a small leather handbag dangling by its strap over his index finger.

He handed it to you with a smile and you thanked him in a relieved sigh, making your way to the kitchen table and unzipping it with haste. He pulled out the chair beside you and sat down too, stealing a piece of half-eaten toast from the plate you'd left on the table and munching on it quietly as he watched you.

You took out your phone, tapping your thumbs with futility against the shiny black screen. "Dead," you said. "Thought as much."

"I think I have a charger somewhere if-"

"Nah it's okay. Haven't paid my phone bill so it makes no difference anyway."

He chuckled to himself, shaking his head as he swept the crumbs off his hands. "Do you want to use my phone?"

"You have a phone?"

"Why wouldn't I have a phone?"

"I don't know, just hard to imagine a priest... texting."

"I text."

You couldn't help the amusement creeping across your face, the thought of his name popping up on your screen; what would you save him as? Ben? Father Benedict? Perhaps just Father would suffice. Daddy?- No, Ellis.

"Do you think priests take vows to live like it's the 1800's or something?" he asked.

You shrugged. "I just assumed if you needed to use a phone you'd have one of those old rotary ones or something."

"Oh my god." He laughed, too amused to notice the blasphemous slip.

You slid the phone back into your bag and dragged the zip closed slowly, watching each metal tooth knit together with far more focus than the task required.

He stopped laughing and cocked his head, eyes darting over your face. "Are you alright?"

"Hm?"

"You. Are you okay?"

You remained quiet for a moment, chewing the inside of your cheek in thought. "Y'know I've never liked that question. It's too broad, don't you think? Makes my brain feel all jumbled."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, okay in what sense? Physically? Mentally? Right this minute or in life in general?" You relaxed slightly into the back of your chair. "Sometimes, people don't even actually want to know how you are at all, they're just saying it instead of 'hello'..."

A smile curled slightly at one side of his mouth. "Well I actually want to know how you are."

"In which way?"

"Let's go with all of them. How are you? In every iteration."

"Hm. Well, physically, I'm tired, a little sore, my foot is killing me. But emotionally I feel... weirdly calm; like last night changed something in me. But I'm not necessarily sure that's a bad thing."

"You feel different?"

"Yeah. Don't you?"

He let his head fall slightly to one side, his gaze turning distant, just for a moment. "No." He shook his head, focusing his attention back on you. "Honestly, I thought I would. I went to sleep last night convinced I'd wake up full of regret and shame and- no offence-"

"Mm," you replied sarcastically.

"But I didn't. I still felt... like me. Like nothing's changed."

"Even after all that sinning you did?" you joked. "You sinned a lot, father."

He dropped his head to hide a smirk. "Hey, what happens in the rectory stays in the rectory."

Your shoulders shook with a chuckle, making him smile.

"I like it when you laugh," he said softly. "You don't do it enough."

You glanced across at him; at those sea foam eyes, so striking against the tired red of their waterlines.

"I have a stupid laugh," you replied quietly.

He smiled, shifting in his seat to move himself closer, his body leaning in slowly towards you. "You have a lovely laugh."

It was strange, how even after a night like last night - after growing so familiar with the intricacies of his body and submitting yours so willingly to him - the sight of his face edging closer, lips parting gently in anticipation, was still so butterfly-inducing.

You'd resigned yourself to the idea that you'd never get to kiss him again, that when the sun rose that morning, all of the intimacy you'd shared would be washed away with last night's storm. Yet here you were, gazing at him through heavy lashes, your focus rolling slowly back and forth between his eyes and mouth as you sat perfectly still, letting him come to you. Closer and closer until you couldn't see anything but him, couldn't hear anything besides your own heartbeat, the gentle pattering of rain against the kitchen window.

Rain.

"Oh, shit!" You jumped up quickly and bolted to the back door, throwing it open and hurrying over the grass towards the washing line.

You were back in the dress, although you weren't sure it resembled sunshine much anymore. There were patches that hadn't fully dried, smudges of dirt from holding your shoes in your lap, and a small bloodstain on the skirt. Yesterday, you'd felt pretty when you put it on. Today, you hadn't even dared glance at your own reflection.

Father Benedict turned the heat up in the car, sliding the vents to point the warm air in your direction. You were thankful for it, relaxing back into the seat and staring out the window as he drove, slowing for a red light almost as soon as he pulled out of the church grounds.

"So where are you going to say you were last night?" he asked.

You could tell the question had been itching to get out, dancing on his tongue until he finally found the right moment to let it spill.

"I haven't thought about it," you replied. "Suppose it's none of their business where I was."

"What if anyone else asks?"

You narrowed your eyes at him, sensing there was a specific answer he wanted to hear, one that would free the tension he'd been holding in his shoulders since he'd got behind the wheel.

"I'm not going to tell anyone what happened, Father," you finally replied, trying your best to make your voice sound soft, reassuring, trustworthy.

He glanced over at you for a second before fixing his gaze back on the road, the light finally turning green again.

"Thank you," he said. "I mean, it's not that I- I'm not saying I want to pretend this never happened or anything. I just..."

"Want to pretend this never happened."

He laughed gently through his nose. "No. I just need to figure out the best way to navigate through-"

"Navigate," you groaned teasingly. "God, you sound like an internet life coach."

He rolled his eyes. "Navigate is a perfectly normal word."

"It's a fluffer. You're fluffing up the point you're trying to make."

He looked at you again, longer this time. "Alright. I don't want to give up my priesthood."

"I know. I never expected you would."

"It's who I am. My faith, it's... such an integral part of me. And that's not me saying last night wasn't also me. I just... You've thrown some things into question, made me act in ways that definitely wouldn't go down well if the church found out."

"I made you?"

He smirked. "Mhm, all your fault."

You turned back to the window, biting your lip to suppress a smile. "At least you won't have to deal with me hanging around the church anymore."

"What do you mean?"

"Well I admitted I lied. I'm just a big fat nonbeliever. No reason for me to attend services anymore."

He paused in thought, steering the car smoothly with his large, agile hands. The movement made you shiver; the sight of his fingers curling around the wheel, the protruding knuckles and prominent veins, even more attractive now you knew what it felt like to have them on you.

"So does that mean you won't be coming to help out on Thursday?" he asked, entirely oblivious to your ogling.

"Thursday?"

"The communion session."

You closed your eyes, letting out a long, exasperated exhale. "Shit," you whispered. "I forgot about that."

"You don't have to come if you don't want to," he said. "I can make do-"

"No, no, I offered to help out."

With every traffic light, every turn of a corner and familiar street, you felt the tension turning your limbs to stone. Nerves flooded your stomach at the thought of walking back into that house, confronting the people you somehow wanted to slap and thank at the same time.

Father Benedict bumped the kerb gently, rolling to a stop beside the front gate. He pulled the handbrake, the car plummeting into silence as he switched off the engine, the only sound coming from your deep intake of breath, the sigh that left you as you turned your head to face him.

You took a moment to look at him, to let your eyes skim over every line and curve of his face. You would see him again, of course you would, but not like this.

"Are you sure you'll be alright?" he asked.

You nodded, allowing a quick smile before grabbing your bag and the straps of your shoes.

"Ellis..."

You glanced back up to find him staring straight ahead through the windshield, head tipped back slightly against the headrest.

"I meant what I said last night." He didn't look at you. "You shouldn't let anyone who isn't worthy go near you again."

It made everything feel more real, somehow, hearing those words repeated without the cloud of heat and lust surrounding you.

"Promise me," he said, finally making eye contact.

"I promise." The words left you in an awkward stammer, mouth moving before your brain had a chance to catch up.

You undid your seatbelt and reached for the door handle, the hinges groaning and grinding as you pushed your elbow against the door, always forgetting how stiff it was until you found yourself fighting to open it.

You leaned all of your weight into it, but it didn't budge. "It's jammed," you said. "Like actually jammed this time."

He sighed and unclipped his seatbelt. "Honestly, this piece of shit car," he mumbled as he leaned over to help.

His body was stretched across yours, so close you could see the muscles straining in his neck, feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. You pressed your back into the seat to give him more room, watching his throat bob with a hard swallow as he pushed on the door, finally getting it to open.

"There we are," he groaned.

"Thanks," you said softly.

He looked at you, still leant over your body, eyes falling to your chest as it rose and fell with slow, heavy breaths. And when his gaze snapped back up to meet yours, there was an entirely different expression on his face.

"Alfie!" Gina's voice screeched in the distance, turning the heat between you ice cold.

You turned to see her on the front doorstep of the house, her panic and anger clear despite the distance between you.

"Alfie! It's Ellis, she's back!"

You sighed and climbed out of the car, closing the door behind you with your hip.

"Where the fuck have you been!?"

You didn't answer her, walking barefoot over the pavement towards the gate, barely getting it open before Alfie appeared at her side. He pushed past her, steam practically rising from the top of his head as he came bounding down the path towards you.

"What the fuck are you playing at, Ellis!?" he shouted.

You'd never seen him like this before, so aggressive in his movements, clenched teeth and balled fists, the fury palpable beneath his skin.

"Just disappearing like that!? Not answering your phone all night!? Do you know how fucking worried we've been!? We were this close to calling the fucking police!-"

He stopped a few feet away from you, his focus shifting to the tall figure emerging from the car. His brow furrowed, eyes narrowing as he watched Father Benedict approaching.

"Don't I know you...?" he muttered in confusion.

"It's the vicar," Gina called out, hurrying down the path.

"Priest," you corrected bluntly.

"Really, Ellis?" Alfie snarled. "Is this a fucking joke!? I've been up all night with no idea where you were, and you've been with him!?"

He marched angrily towards you, stopping suddenly when Father Benedict stepped in the way.

"Whoa there," your priest said calmly, voice so deep it was almost inaudible.

Alfie took a breath, back straightening as he glared at the man in front of him. "What? You think I was going to hit her?" He sneered in genuine offence. "What kind of man do you think I am?"

"Probably best I don't answer that question," Father Benedict quipped.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Let's just calm down and go inside," said Gina, grabbing Alfie by the sleeve of his shirt.

He shrugged her off. "No. I want to know who the fuck this guy thinks he is."

"He's the guy who let me sleep on his couch when I said I didn't want to come home," you said. "Because I caught my boyfriend fucking my best friend, in case you'd forgot that part."

"Oh of course you're piping up now you've got this dick head sticking up for you."

Father Benedict smiled, which only seemed to irritate him more.

"What's a priest doing getting all pally with some random woman who doesn't even believe in God anyway? It's fucking creepy, you're a fucking creep." He pointed his finger in his face, spitting the words at him.

"Put the finger down," he said calmly.

"What? This?" He began pushing it hard into his chest, poking and prodding him roughly.

"Oh Alfie, grow up," you said.

"I understand you've been worried about her," said Father Benedict, gripping him firmly by the wrist to stop the childish assault. "But taking your anger out on me isn't going to solve anything. I was just dropping her home."

"Do you want a medal?" He snatched his hand away. "Want me to thank you for harbouring her in your house while I worried sick all night?"

You couldn't help but scoff. "I wouldn't have left in the first place if you hadn't been sleeping with-"

"You shut-"

It all happened so fast you barely had time to react; Alfie turning towards you, pointing in your face as he took another quick, belligerent step forward. Father Benedict intercepting with a swift swing of his arm, his fist cracking against the side of his face and knocking him to the ground.

You took a sharp breath, somewhere between a gasp and a choke, watching as Gina dropped to her knees at Alfie's side with a panicked yell. Father Benedict sucked in the air through his teeth, hissing as he shook his hand, a pained expression scrunching his nose.

"Oh my god," you breathed, grabbing him by the upper arms and pulling him back, dragging him over to the car.

"Fuck sake," he whispered, opening and closing his fist.

"I can't believe you just did that."

"I'm so sorry, I just- I thought he was going to-"

"What the fuck!?" Gina shouted. "Aren't you supposed to be a fucking pacifist or some shit!?"

Alfie groaned, pushing her hands away as she tried to examine his face.

"Just go inside, Gina, Jesus Christ!" you shouted.

You took his hand in yours and he let you hold it for a moment, looking over the grazes on his knuckles in stunned silence. "It's okay, I'm alright," he said, gently pulling away and shaking it out again.

"You prick," Alfie spat as he clambered to his feet.

You sighed, nodding towards the car. "You should go."

He hesitated, eyes darting between his hand and the face he'd just pummelled with it.

"I'll be fine," you insisted. "Honestly. He's a dick but he wouldn't hurt me."

"Forgive me for finding that hard to believe."

"He wouldn't, I swear. I just want to go upstairs, get a shower, get my stuff together. I'll be alright."

There was a deep, reluctant rumble in his throat before he finally gave in, turning to make his way to the driver's side door. You exhaled a shaking breath, crossing your arms over your chest as you watched him get in, trying to ignore the chaos still erupting behind you.

He got in the car and shut the door, concern etched between his brows as he looked at you through the passenger window. You gave a reassuring smile and waved him off, stepping back through the gate.

"Wait, Ellis," he called as he rolled down the window and leaned over. "Here."

You walked closer, plucking a small piece of paper from his outstretched fingers.

"If you need me," he said simply.

You looked down at the paper as the car rolled away, a mobile number scribbled hastily across it, 'I text' written below. You laughed to yourself and closed your fist around it, turning on your sore, bare heels and making your way up the path towards the house.

You'd made it halfway upstairs when you heard the front door slam behind you, the sound of footsteps hurrying after you.

"Wait, Ellis," Gina barked. "Do you not think we need to talk!?"

You spun around, looking down at her as she followed you. "No, I don't."

"I'm pressing charges on him," said Alfie.

"He was protecting me," you replied angrily. "He thought you were about to hit me."

"Look, I don't care about what happened out there," said Gina.

"I fucking do," Alfie mumbled.

"We need to talk about yesterday."

You rolled your eyes and continued up the stairs. "You mean when I walked in on you screwing my boyfriend?"

"Ellis-"

"How long? Actually, y'know what? I don't care. You're welcome to him. I was done anyway."

"What?" Alfie shouted, jogging up to catch you.

You walked down the landing to your bedroom, turning just before you reached the door. "I was done. With us."

He pushed past Gina, making his way towards you. There was a bright red mark on the side of his face, a cut on his lip and blood smeared around his nostril. You almost felt bad for him, but then he spoke.

"You are fucking him, aren't you!"

You sighed, opening the door and stepping into your room. "What are you-"

"The priest! That's where you were last night, that's why he just punched me in the face like some fucking yob in a nightclub-"

"Anything to make yourself feel better about what you did, Alfie."

You slid open a drawer and pulled out a towel, wedging it under your arm as you fished for some clean clothes.

"You're not denying it," he said from the doorway.

"I have denied it, you just don't want to listen."

"Bullshit. You've been acting different ever since you started going to that church. I knew there had to be a reason for it. It's not normal, Ellis! And I don't buy for one second you've just made innocent pals with that guy. It's- It's weird! Leaving me here so you can go and spend time with that-"

"Do you know what, fine. Yeah, I slept with him," you began, walking towards him. "And do you know something else? He was better, and bigger, and more skilled than you could ever hope to be."

He swallowed, his face hard and unamused, eyes scanning your face in an attempt to figure out if you were lying or not.

You came face-to-face with him, leaning in to speak slowly and quietly. "He made me come so hard he had to cover my mouth just to keep me quiet."

You elbowed past him, leaving him speechless behind you.

"Ellis," said Gina, standing in the way of the bathroom. "I just want to talk-"

"I don't have anything to say," you interrupted bluntly. "Our entire friendship has just been you keeping me around to make yourself feel better. Patronising me, infantilising me, making me feel so wildly uncomfortable about who I am. You've made it very clear you can have any man you want, yet you decided to fuck mine. All because I stood up to you at the christening, made you feel stupid for half a fucking second."

She shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. "It's not like that."

You stepped around her, pushing into the bathroom.

"I think I actually have feelings for him, Ellis."

"Of course you do. And you know what? Congratulations. I'm glad it's you he'll be flailing about on top of instead of me."

Her jaw sharpened, teeth grinding behind pursed lips. "Y'know... I think you should probably look for somewhere else to live..."

You gave a dry laugh. "Shags my boyfriend then kicks me out. Classic Gina."

You slammed the door and locked it, letting your forehead rest against the wood for a moment as you caught your breath. That was so unlike you. All of it. The harshness, the sarcasm, the honesty. It felt good. So why were you trembling?

You stripped off your dress and sat on the edge of the bath, gently peeling away the dressing from the sole of your foot. It didn't look as bad as it felt, the dried blood covering a small slice, the skin around it darkening with a bruise.

You turned on the shower, holding your hand beneath the water until it warmed up, watching the stream run off the tips of your fingers like ribbons. This water was going to cleanse you; wash away the dirt and sweat and rain, the anger, the shame. You were going to scrub it all away and step out anew.

*Tags: @evelynrosestuff @thealleydog @lexlexigogh @allie131313 @simpingbestie @ironstrange1991 @witchoftheages @hiddendiary @swds @jyessaminereads @withalittlehoney @hunterofshadows04 @slytherindoctorsat221b @diabaroxa @phoebe221 @hai-kbai @downtownshabby @dara-of-qui-zi @unfilteredmoonchild @classicrebound @bigratbitchsworld @aphroditesdilemma @bloodyxsaint @ployavengersog1 @spectaclebitch @paola-carter @veryladyqueen @gordorio @shjl15 @thedaredevilsgirl @howardtonypotts @ceccille @wllsfer @thelostsmiles @vi0letdaze @stanfanfiction @king-kongbebe-blog @sof38 @doctorscarletwitch @rmoonstoner @intrappolatatrairicordi

*If you would like to be tagged in the next part, please comment below, or feel free to add yourself to the tag list here

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annesthaeticc · 3 months

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lovers rock | sherlock x fem!reader

| Sherlock Holmes x Fem!Reader

| one shot , song fic

| 961 words

| 'because love can burn like a cigarette, and leave you alone with nothing...' What Sherlock and Y/N had was beautiful, but it crashed and burned.

A/N okay bear with me it's short, but hey it's something, right? testing the waters asi hopefully hopefully come back into writing. let me know what you think!

————————————————————————————————

“Such a small world,” you quietly said and watched as the air escaped your lungs, echoing your words. The party inside was loud, but not loud enough for the silence outside was piercing yet calming. And so, he heard you. Slowly, he turned to see who spoke and found your silhouette, your shape outlined amongst the trees and the pillars.

Slowly, he walked towards you. Yet another mistake he was about to make. For all the choices he made that involved you, it led to one.

One. Big. Mistake.

Sherlock heard his heart thudding. Crashing and breaking in every step he made towards you. You sat there frozen, your eyes unblinking, or at least trying not to blink for you feared that if you do so, he might disappear.

Just like he did back then.

Sherlock sometimes wished he never pursued you, but here he was, about to do the very same thing. He never learned.

“Indeed it is.” he replied, his very perfect presence now crowding over you. His shadow embraced you and your eyes finally blinked only to find he was still there, standing in front of you.

He was taller. His face is more defined. His curls, curled to perfection. His perfume was the same, or is it? His lips fuller, more inviting than ever.

Sherlock noticed this, and cannot help himself but do the very same. You were perfect in every shape and form, as the day he met you. He committed crimes before, but his favorite might be the one he is about to make; to kiss you.

Silence passed by the small distance between you and him and it was almost deafening. You were waiting for him to say something. Something along the lines of “I’m sorry I left you…” And he was doing just the same, waiting for the words like “I’m sorry I couldn't wait for you…”

“Best man leaving early?” you finally said, shyly asking. He nodded and looked away.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, cutting you off before you could even say anything.

“I was invited, well not just me really, Ian and I were…” your voice trailed off as your husband's name left your lips. Again, he nodded.

Ah yes, Ian. Sherlock knew more than you. He is decent enough, this Sherlock could guarantee. But not decent enough to leave you on your own for days, even weeks or months on end while he was traveling the world on some sort of opera tour. Sherlock didn't care enough to dig for more details.

All he knew was deep seated anger and sadness.

And this resonated through the walls of the second floor of 221B Baker Street for months. Your wedding invitation sent for him lay hopeless on his desk, waiting to be written on to confirm his invitation. He was about to decline after finally making a decision that went on for weeks, only to find out it was pointless to respond because your wedding was already done.

And so, he threw the invitation in the fire. He watched as the intricate paper got swallowed by the flames, melting into ashes, into nothing. He was mesmerized by it. How something could be nothing because of the burning flames.

He was shaken from his thoughts when he saw your hand, holding a packet of cigarettes. You were offering him one and Sherlock accepted. You sat down again on the bench and he followed, allowing a few inches between you.

Quietly, the two of you smoked. Avoiding glancing or talking. You were caught up in a trance and were shaken out of it when you felt movement. Sherlock stood up and stepped on the cigarette. His shoe dug into the grass as the last of the embers glowed.

“Going somewhere?” you asked.

“Home.” he replied, his voice deep.

“I could drive you.” you offered.

“No thank you. I’ll catch a cab.” he replied, slowly walking away.

“Sherlock, wait, please—” you caught up with him and offered to drive him once more. He declined and you almost gave up.

His figure faded into the darkness when you cried out, “Sherlock, I'm sorry.”

Tears flooded your eyes and you couldn't help. It fell from your eyes, flowing down your face. Everything was blurry and you felt your hands shaking from the nicotine and from the adrenaline of your apology.

“It's been 12 years, Y/N,” he replied. “Why are you saying sorry now?”

“Because…”

“You will not tempt me to play one of your games, Y/N. Not this time. Not ever again.”

“Sherlock, please,”

“I'm sorry? Is that all you could think? You left me, Y/N,” he cried. And now you see his face. Anger, despair, and longing painted his face,

“You left me first!” you accused him. He really did.

“And yet you couldn't wait for me, couldn't you? All the promises I made—”

“Were gone as soon as you disappeared, Sherlock.”

“Oh ye of little faith!” he said, his voice booming.

“Sherlock,” you breathlessly begged. “I'm sorry.”

Sherlock heard you, and saw your eyes. He hated you for marrying someone else, but what he hated most is seeing you cry. He pulled out his handkerchief from his jacket pocket and dabbed your face, wiping away the tears. He pulled you into his embrace, just like he did back then. When your cries died down, he pulled away then planted a kiss on your temple.

“We would never work out. You're happier with him.” Sherlock said.

“I realized that what he had, was all that it was. Nothing more, nothing less. We burned too fast until we became nothing, Y/N.” he continued.

“I loved you,” you whispered.

“And I did too. So much.” he said, his voice breaking.

————— • ————— • ————— • ————— • ————— • ——

TAGLIST:

@migurin @damiensoda @inas-thing @peachywoong @ruevz @sammiisnthere @srapalestina @winchestersgirl222 @taramaria @alexag-barnes @sleutherclaw @will0wfairy @vexedvalerie @lovecleastrange @evelynrosestuff @azu21 @getlostsquidward @bubu890 @strangefilms @ice-ksk @my-beel @doctorswitch @tuitiononlivings @windchaser1990 @swds @andrewgarfieldsloml @spencerreidslittleslut @sherlockstrangewolf @littlebadariell @whosgwyneth @cumberbitch @lostfleurs @strangeobsessed @slvtforstr4nge @jyessaminereads @dancerpanda04 @stephenstrangeaddictions @starryeddie @cemak @valoa3s @paola-carter @runningnannie @siredlust @stupidthoughtsinwriting

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myveryownfanfiction · 2 months

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18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

tags: @illiana-mystery

warnings: swearing, argument, menstruation

Sherlock paced the flat, occasionally tapping away on his phone. I sat in John’s chair, curled up around myself as tightly as I could.

“Sherlock.” I said. He continued to ignore me. “Sherlock.” There was a raise of the eyebrow but he still continued to ignore me. “Sherlock Holmes!” He jolted and frowned as he turned to look at me.

“What? What could you possibly want that is more important than this case?” He asked, venom dripping from his voice.

“and what about that case is more important than your partner being in pain?” I shot back. Sherlock looked me over.

“I see nothing wrong with you.” Sherlock scoffed.

“of course you don’t.” I muttered, getting up and grabbing my coat. “You’re such a fucking machine that you can’t even tell when your partner is in the middle of their period.” I shrugged my coat on and opened the door. “When you get your shit together Sherlock, call me. Until then…” I shook my head and left. I could hear him calling for me but I ignored him. Mrs. Hudson came out of her flat and looked up as I came down the stairs.

“what’s all that yelling about?” She asked.

“Sherlock being a dumbass as usual.” I muttered as I paused in front of her. “He thinks the case is more important than whatever I have doing on right now so I’m going to leave him to his own devices until he can get his shit together.”

“John will be back soon. Maybe if you wait…” I shook my head and sighed.

“I can’t wait for John to come back. I’ll rip his head off while we wait.” I admitted. “And as pissed as I am at him, he doesn’t deserve it.” Mrs. Hudson rubbed my arm.

“be safe luv.” She said before letting me leave. I wandered the streets of London, grabbing fish and chips from queensway before taking the London eye. I watched a couple take a picture in front of the parliament building, kissing before giggling at each other. I smiled softly to myself, pulling my phone out of my pocket as it buzzed.

‘The case can wait. You’re more important to me than anything. Please come home -SH’

biting my lip, I texted Sherlock back. I explained that I was still pissed off at him and I would be back later. I didn’t receive a response so I pocketed my phone and continued to walk around the city. When I had reached whitechapel, I started to head down towards the Jack the Ripper museum. I paused when I saw Sherlock leaning against the building.

“Sherlock…” I said, looking around before stopping in front of him. “What…”

“I’ve been an idiot.” He said, reaching out to touch my arm. “You always come here when you’re pissed at me. Or life. You’re looking for something to help solve it. Why I don’t know but it’s admirable. The unsolvable case.” He chuckled and shook his head. “You’re admirable. Everything about you. And you are more important to me than any damn case.”

“glad you finally noticed.” I said, chuckling as I shook my head. “John knock some sense into you?”

“Mrs. Hudson.” Sherlock admitted. “And you. I didn’t realize that you were feeling like shit. For all my deduction and reasoning…I failed you.” Sherlock wrapped his arms around me. “I’m sorry. Really. How does going home sound?” I nodded, wrapping an arm around his waist as he turned to lead me back to baker street.

“strange to hear you apologize.” I mused as I laid my head on his shoulder. Sherlock hummed in agreement.

“Someone must have really knocked some sense into me then.” He teased. I smiled at him. Sherlock leaned down and pressed a kiss to my head. “If you ever need help solving that case…I’d be happy to help.”

“I think I’ve got this one.” I said, pausing and turning in his hold. “But thank you.” I leaned in and kissed Sherlock with the sun setting behind parliament.

#Sherlock holmes #sherlock Holmes x reader #sherlock Holmes fanfic #Sherlock Holmes fanfiction #Sherlock Holmes imagine #Sherlock x reader #sherlock fanfic #Sherlock fanfiction #sherlock imagine #benedict cumberbatch #benedict cumberbatch x reader #Benedict cumberbatch fanfic #Benedict cumberbatch fanfiction #Benedict cumberbatch imagine #Monthly series

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geeky-politics-46 · 1 year

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COVID Cuddles

Pairing: Doctor Stephen Strange x Reader

Summary: It finally got you! You are sick with COVID-19 and missing Stephen's cuddles

Warnings: reader has COVID, pandemic references, slight angst with fluffy happy ending, language

This fic is totally self-indulgent as i am sick with COVID right now & my Doctor Strange teddy bear is one of the things keeping me company. So I made it into a story. Probably lots of errors as I'm sick & drugged

"How are you feeling, sweetheart?"

You looked up at him in the doorway, masked fave peeking through, from where you sat on the bathroom floor. Tissues shoved up both nostrils as you waited for the bathroom to fill with steam from the shower before you tossed a Vicks vapor shower bomb under the water. Hoping that it would make it easier to breathe. Or at least make it sound like you didn't smoke 4 packs of cigarettes a day.

You had made it 3 years without getting COVID-19, but finally it got you. Despite the 2 original vaccines and 2 boosters. Your number eventually came up. You knew it would eventually. You just hoped the vaccines would make the illness shorter still.

"Well, I feel like I swallowed broken bits of light bulb, and I had a coughing fit so bad earlier I nearly puked. So I'm fucking fabulous."

They never mentioned a side effect of COVID was that it made you mean. Of course, maybe that was just you. You knew with your asthma you had to throw everything at this now just in case. So that was what you were doing. Currently waiting for your 6 hours between NyQuil shots with an ibuprofen chaser to elapse so you could top yourself up and get a good 3 hour nap before starting the waiting process all over again.

It made matters even worse that the moment you tested positive you basically became a leper. Stephen, Wong, and America banished you to the bedroom and adjoining bathroom. Wong even put up a quarantine spell that would alert them if you tried to leave the room.

You understood why. The Sorcerer Supreme and one of the Avengers getting severely ill probably wouldn't be a good thing. Much too tempting for the forces of evil. No one really knew if America could get COVID, having traveled the multiverse she probably had antibodies to things that didn't even exist in your world, but it was better safe than sorry.

Still though, a cuddle sounded really good right about now, and that was one thing Stephen couldn't give you. At least not until you were no longer contagious. You still had a couple days to go before that was even a possibility.

He was doing his absolute best to give you anything he thought you might need. Leaving trays and bags of food and medicine. Occasionally throwing in some candy or a random little treat he thought would cheer you up. He was trying so hard. Especially when you knew he wasn't exactly known for his bedside manner as a Doctor.

You hated snapping at him. You just felt genuinely terrible, and you knew that you just had to ride it out. For the most part, by yourself. It almost felt worse when he would check on you, knowing that you couldn't go hug him or even hold his hand without exposing him even more than you already had.

"I know you are miserable right now, and I know I don't have to keep bringing you all sorts of stuff beyond food and drugs. However, America showed me something that we both decided you needed. It's a friend to keep you company."

He reached inside and set down a large plain white paper gift bag. Stepping back and closing the door so you could move to get the bag, taking it back to your spot by the tub before looking in the bag.

As you peeked in the bag, you were immediately about to burst into tears. Inside was a fairly large brown teddy bear. What made it special though was that it was styled to look like Stephen.

It had blue eyes and a very dark brown goatee on its face. That alone was enough to make you giggle. The fact that it was wearing a version of Stephen's blue sorcerer's robes and it's own little Cloak Of Levitation attached to it's shoulders with velcro was just icing on the cake.

It was perfect. Soft and perfect size to snuggle while still being well formed enough that stayed looking like Stephen. Just Stephen in teddy bear form.

"Stephen, it's perfect! I love him so much! This is exactly what I needed. Thank you"

He peeked back through the door to see you already snuggling the bear tight to your chest. Happy tears on your cheeks and for the first time in days a smile on your face.

You couldn't see it behind his mask, but he was smiling too. So relieved that he could make you feel better even for just a little but. He figured you missed cuddling. He knew that he missed it. He had stolen one of your sweatshirts to snuggle, so he thought it was perfect when America showed him the bear.

Now once you were better, he might have a problem with the bear if he was there for you to cuddle instead. He would deal with that when the time came though. For now, he would share you.

--------------------------------

Back to main masterlist

Stephen Strange Taglist: @starkiller-queen @glitterylokislut @verycollectivecreator @chatampr @maskmare931 @lovecleastrange @wheredafandomat @mkixx @evelynrosestuff @katefullerrr @littlepinknightmare @foofarny @stygianoir @moonroyalt @saturnsbabe69 @blaxdet @blackrose-92 @ironstrange1991 @rindulacre @nancy-thompsons @wolfatheartandsoul @dangerouslittlefairy @n0obmaster-69 @oliveoilthoughts @onebatch--twobatch @yourmajesty13 @blondekel77 @lil-sweater-slut @gwephen @taramaria @sinceimetyou @slashersrus @coeurgrenaty @cc13723things @just--a-magpie @supervengerslock @strangelockd @dont-feel-so-good-peter @kingsmanperfecthartwin @ghost-lantern @inlovewithloki16 @thefalconandthewinterwidowshield @itssmaugtheterrible @katherinemaximoff @veryfancydoilies @cute-angi @mochacake2016 @prix19 @alexfanficnook @anotheroddfish @mando-is-the-way @xourownsidee @baes-x @dreamingsmile @negar77rd @imaginesfreetotake @ppatricia34me @rougepetale @tis-vereon @divinearchangel @sherlux @hiddlechive @ginnykate @thatesqcrush @friendofplenti @yuugenmomo @holdmyowos @the-royal-petals @lokislov3 @captaincarmel164 @lucimorningst4r @mydearalmira @petalcranberry @singhfae @emotionsareforuglypeople @trappedinlimbo15 @veryladyqueen @icytrickster17 @kentucky-criedfricken @briefhandsstudenttoad @calamityismyspecialty @sinisterstrange616 @patbrdac @trojanaurora @azu21 @massivehahaao3tree @strangesgirl

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homeofthelonelywriter · 1 month

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Celebs - Masterlist

Tom Hiddleston:

Series:

Take the Stage: While once again sneaking out of the Palace, you meet an actor...let’s just say there is something between you two. (Royal! Reader)

Romeo to my Juliet: You are a student and a teacher at a college in Lodon, which is the same place a very handsome acting professor is employed. - discontinued

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

New Beginning:

(Part 1) | Part 2 | Part 3

Headcanons:

HC - Tom Hiddleston x clumsy!Reader

HC - Tom helps Reader deal with anxiety and stress

HC - Tom loves Reader’s boobs

Oneshots:

Forgotten Fears - The Reader had some bad experiences with her ex-boyfriend when he was drunk and is still traumatised by that. What happens when Tom forgets about that fear of hers?

Kinky Surprise - pure smut

Application - When you loose a bet, you are forced to send an application for Loki’s love interest. Who would have thought that they actually want to meet you?

Jealousy - Tom is insecure because of your age gap. What will happen when he sees you with one of your co-workers who is about your age?

Hidden - As an artist, you find a way to tell Tom that you’re pregnant

Bun in the oven - Pregnany reveal and a proposal. What could go wrong?

Drunken Start - After a night out with his buddies, Tom calls you, neither rembering you, nor how he got your number

Trick or Treat - Halloween Special

Best boyfriend in the world - You have trouble sleeping, so Tom decides to help you out

Dance with me - Reader and Tom slow-dance in Paris

Diary - Tom finds your diary while you’re moving and reads it

Drabbles:

Christmas Surprise - Christmas Drabble

Let it snow! - Christmas Drabble

Drabble #75

Drabble #3

Imagines:

Imagine while on vacation with your BFF you catch Tom Hiddleston during a photoshoot. Your BFF makes sure he remembers you.

Imagine tagging Tom Hiddleston in a meme and actually getting a reaction.Imagine working on the set of Avengers and instantly crushing on Tom Hiddleston. You are devastated when you find out your BFF Taylor is now dating him.

Benedict Cumberbatch:

Drabbles:

Drabble #69

Sebastian Stan:

Drabbles:

Drabble #46

Shawn Mendes:

Series:

Better that way: When Shawn’s girlfriend finds out that she is pregnant, she decides that she can’t burden the superstar with a child. She makes decisions which may seem stupid, but she knows that it’s Better that way.

Surprise: Walking a Victorias Secret show was an honour already, but being able to see your boyfriend while doing so? Pure bliss. Especially when he has a little surprise for you.

Part 1 | Part 2

Fan Mail: Writing to Shawn every so often paid off when he asked you to come to one of his shows.

Part 1 | Part 2

Oneshots:

When you’re ready - Inspired by his song

Guard my heart - You are a part of the security at one of Shawn’s shows and he notices you

Nervous - Inspired by his song

One more chance - Filming an explanation video why Shawn and you broke up, leads to some interesting realisations

In my Blood - Inspired by his song (Triggers)

Late Late Show - You are present during your boyfriend’s appearance on the Late Late Show with James Cordan. Let’s just say it was disgusting.

Sad song - Shawn finds out you can sing during a very sad occasion

Tom Holland:

Migraine - rl!friend has a Migraine and Tom wants and tries to comfort her

Back to the Master-Masterlist

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston fanfiction #benedict cumberbatch #benedict cumberbatch x reader #benedict cumberbatch fanfiction #shawn mendes #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #fanfiction masterlist

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lilyroseluthor · 10 months

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Professor!Batch...

...

@daydreamtofiction I have a request 🥵

#benedict cumberbatch #Benedict cumberbatch smut #Benedict cumberbatch Fanfiction #benedict cumberbatch rpf

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strangelockd · 1 year

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I love you

Pairing: SherlockHolmes x Reader

Synopsis: it’s getting late, but your son has a special request for more music

Warnings: fluff and angst, (kinda proof read, Ill fix it later if I find errors)

A/N: I know two fics in one week!!!! 😮

Please accept this small fic of tooth rotting fluff as I finish up ‘Darling You Taste Divine’. Its Sherlock being a perfect adorable dad so naturally its catnip right?

“Play it again daddy play it again!”

Your son squealed with glee as your husband played his violin, its something you all have come to enjoy doing every evening. His little green eyes lit up as he gazed upon his father, he was his hero and best friend. He always felt like an outcast, but ever since you came into his life that changed for him. With the birth of his son came this human that looked at him not as a “highly functioning sociopath”, but as a hero, and someone to look up to. As far as he was concerned Sherlock could do anything.

“John William Holmes for the last time daddies hands are tired and he needs a break” you stated sweetly to your only son.

His little head turned to you with hands clasped pleading, “aw come on mom, just one more song pleeeeease!” Noticing his eyes getting bigger it was hard saying no when he has the eyes of his father. He always had his fathers tenacity and you admired that. Glancing over to your husband his bottom lip quivered in what looked like a cute attempt at a begging pout. Rolling your eyes you smiled and obliged, “ok fine alright but just one song, ok daddy. I don’t want him up to late” you and Sherlock eyed each other in a knowing glance and he gave a smiling wink.

“Oh trust me He won’t be the one up late tonight,” He gave that look that sent a flutter in your core. Returning his gaze to your son he smiled

“So, what does my little prince want me to play?” He plucked the strings gently with a smile across his face, “shall daddy play Mary Had A Little Lamb? I know mummy loves that one.”

“Ya daddy play that one!”

He winked at you across the room returning his instrument to his chin playing the classic melody. You noticed he eyed you and mouthed the words “I love you” that made you blush and blow a kiss in return. Over the years watching the happiness glow in both of there eyes made your heart burst more and more. There was nothing Sherlock wouldn’t do for you both.

Leave a comment if you liked it. Interact! It inspires me to keep writing.If you want to be tagged in future stories comment below.

A special thanks to the followers who request to read my work.

Back to Main Masterlist

@bakerstreethound @sassenach-on-the-rocks @sherlux @budugu @cemak @blxckdragonfly @seanbeansimp59 @geeky-politics-46 @withalittlehoney @kentucky-criedfricken @hunterofshadows04 @baharnoth @katehawke @thealleydog @icytrickster17 @stewardofningishzida @lady-harvey @asherloki @withalittlehoney @moonlover-tobefree @dino-fart @deepbatched @purplefeathersandblackleather @marvel-writing

#benedict cumberbatch #sherlock #because benedict cumberbatch #bbc sherlock #sherlock x reader #benedict cumberbatch fanfiction #benedict cumberbatch smutt #sherlock x you #sherlock x y/n

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lokidokieokie · 11 months

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Dr. Stephen Strange / Benedict Cumberbatch Masterlist

DR. STEPHEN STRANGE

SERIES

Beyond the Pages (ONGOING)

It was just your weekly trip to the comic-book store. While looking for a comic for your collection, you stumble upon an old-looking book, with an odd combination of symbols on the cover. You, being drawn to the weirdness of it, pick it up and open the cover. A strange force surrounded your person; and the next thing you knew, you were waking up on the steps of what looked to be 177A Bleecker Street. What had you gotten yourself into?

MINI-SERIES

The Great Escape (COMPLETE)

Based upon a request

A Love Torn Asunder (COMPLETE)

Ella becomes pregnant with Doctor Strange’s baby, but Stephen is uncertain about their future together and leaves the reader with a hard decision to make.

A Spoonful of Sugar (ONGOING)

Once, after a battle, you visited Stephen with some of your delicious home-made pastries to help him feel better. Eventually that became a ritual.

ONESHOTS

You've Been Here all this Time?

Oops...?

Sleepy Realisations

Tony was Wrong

Practice Makes Perfect

Bloodied and Bruised

The Strange Approach

The Ghost of Kamar-Taj

Knight in a Sentient Cloak

I'm Here, Whenever You're Ready

From the Pages of History

Undercover Rhythm

Shattered Sanctum

Change is Never Easy | 2

DRABBLES

Forever; Endlessly

Beyond the Broken Hands

The Healing Touch

An Apprenticeship with a Twist

The Blip's Silver Lining

A Clumsy Pursuit

BENEDICT CUMBERBATCH

found online...credit to original creator

ONESHOTS

The "L" Word

#benedict cumberbatch #benedict cumberbatch x reader #benedict cumberbatch x fem!reader #benedict cumberbatch fanfic #benedict cumberbatch fanfiction #dr strange #doctor stephen strange #doctor strange #stephen strange #doctor strange x reader #dr strange x reader #doctor stephen strange x reader #stephen strange x reader #dr strange fanfic #dr strange fanfiction #doctor strange fanfic

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annesthaeticgifs · 2 years

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Sherlock Holmes in every episode of Sherlock ; 00x00 The Unaired Pilot

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marvel-snape-writes · 1 year

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ᶜᵘʳʳᵉⁿᵗ ᶠᵃⁿᶠᶦᶜ ᶜᵒⁿᵘⁿᵈʳᵘᵐ ᵍᵒᶦⁿᵍ ʳᵒᵘⁿᵈ ᶦⁿ ᶜᶦʳᶜˡᵉˢ ᶦⁿ ᵐʸ ʰᵉᵃᵈ…

Stephen Strange is deffo the kind of guy who would take great pleasure in fucking your brains out in one of his nauseatingly expensive cars, right?

But… logistically I think he’s too tall to lay down in it, so you’d clearly have no choice but to ride him… (not that that would be a bad thing 😂)

Thoughts?

#benedict cumberbatch #marvel #doctor strange #stephen strange #multiverse of madness #marvel cinematic universe #doctor strange in the multiverse of madness #fanfic #fanfiction #doctor strange smut #stephen strange smut #marvel multiverse #benedict cumberbatch fanfiction #benedict cumberbatch fanfic #benedict cumberbatch smut

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asgards-princess-of-mischief · 4 months

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Last Updated: 2024-01-01

Disclaimer: I am not the author of these stories, just sharing my favourite Dr. Stephen Strange stories. Find the authors' links below. If you want your work removed, message me privately.

❆ Christmas at the Sanctum by strangesapprentice1930 • 〔F᜶C〕 •

Summary: This Christmas, Stephen plans on showing you just how much you mean to him.

❆ Happy New Year by iamsherlocked1479 • 18+ • 〔E᜶F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: "Stephen doesn't like that you recived a compliment, he doesn't like that somebody would even consoder they had a chance with you."

❆ Here for the Wi-Fi by spilledkauffie • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

Summary: It's the holiday season, and you have one final project to finish before the semester is officially over. Unfortunately, your boyfriend seems determined to distract you.

❆ Just Friends￨Prt. II by sassenach-on-the-rocks • 〔F〕 •

Summary: "A chance to be alone with each other brings some hidden feelings to the surface."

❆ Wong, the Matchmaker by pinkthick • 〔F〕 •

Summary: "[Wong] is sick of Stephen not picking up on your advances. What better thing he could do since Christmas is coming up than to hang mistletoes across Kamar-taj or even at the Sanctum?"

❆ Christmas Party, Sorcerer Style by thepokyone • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Christmas Tree by thranduilsperkybutt • 〔F〕 •

❆ Dr. Show Off by girl-of-many-fandoms • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Hot Chocolate and Marshmallows by after-avenging-hours • 〔F〕 •

❆ I Just Love You [Defender!Strange] ⧫ by pinkthick • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Mistletoe Kiss by dino-fart • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ One Hell of a Guy by dino-fart • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

❆ Snowy Surprise by high-functioning-lokipath • 〔F〕 • ♥︎ •

See Also: Navigation || Stephen Strange Master Index

Authors: @after-avenging-hours || @dino-fart || @girl-of-many-fandoms || @high-functioning-lokipath ||@iamsherlocked1479 || @pinkthick || @sassenach-on-the-rocks || @spilledkauffie || @strangesapprentice1930 || @thepokyone || @thranduilsperkybutt ||

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daydreamtofiction · 8 months

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Thou Shalt Not Covet // 8: Penance

Contents | Part 7 | First Person Version [AO3]

Summary: (Priest!Benedict x Female Reader) "This was it. This was really happening."

Word Count: <4K

Warnings: Strong language, irreverence, dark humour, religious imagery, explicit sexual content from the outset. Smut: penetrative sex/unprotected sex, (some)dirty talk, other things I’m sure but it’s 4am and I’m tired. Readers must be 18+

Kissing him now was different than before.

In the church it had been desperate, chaotic, a deliverance from lust that served neither of you well. This time, though, there was no rage; no fury in his touch, no aggravation in your chest.

Your mouths moved, deep and slow, luxuriating in the taste of one another without the fear of interruption. You weaved your hands into the back of his hair, the silky, damp locks slipping between your fingers. His lips parted against yours, a heavy breath escaping him as you tugged his head back gently, like a hot, satisfied sigh of relief. You wondered how long he'd been starving himself of this intimacy, how someone who kissed like this would ever have the strength to abstain.

His tongue swept into your mouth, so fluid yet dominant in its invasion. You revelled in the taste of him; the cigarette he'd smoked, the whiskey he'd drank at the party, the intoxicating warmth of his breath. This was the same tongue that spoke to god, that gave sermons in church and preached of chastity, now gliding against yours in a sinful union, inciting feelings within you that he'd so adamantly condemned.

You moaned softly against his lips, pressing your body harder against him. His damp clothes were cold now, making you shiver as the rainwater seeped through to your chest. Your nipples began to harden in response, sending jolts of prickly pleasure to your core with every brush against them.

His hands skimmed up your back, the sensitivity of his touch lost against the thick material of your jumper. You wanted him to delve beneath it, craved the warmth of his large palms splayed across your flesh. But his movements were unhurried, and you weren't sure if it was out of reverence or doubt. But then he rolled his hips beneath you, pressing a straining erection up against your centre, and it definitely didn't feel like doubt.

There was a part of you that was surprised to find him so hard, eager, aching to break out of his confines and sink between your legs. But the other part of you knew; from the moment you met him he seemed to know exactly how to burrow straight to the core of you. To delve beyond the awkwardly timed jokes and resigned disposition to the place where it all made sense. Where you made sense. It was like he belonged within the very depths of you, and he wanted to be there. You wanted him there. Mind and body.

The feeling was torturous; the friction, the pressure, the connection stifled by layers of clothing and his forbearing restraint.

"Touch me," you whispered against his lips.

"I am touching you."

"No, touch me." You reached back and gripped his wrists, attempting to guide him beneath the jumper.

He closed his eyes and let out a growling sigh. It made you halt, leaning back slightly to look into his eyes.

"Please don't hate me."

"Why would I hate you?" he replied.

"I don't know. You just seem... angry."

"I'm not angry, Ellis. I'm devastated." He moved his large hands to frame your face, thumbs on your cheeks, fingers curved around the back of your neck behind your ears. "You have... devastated me."

A breath caught softly in your throat, your voice barely audible as you muttered. "I'm sorry."

"No you're not."

He returned his mouth to yours and you gasped at the newfound fervour in his kiss. Sharp teeth nipped at your bottom lip, his tongue less gentle in its assault. He said you weren't really sorry, and perhaps that was true; a sorry person would have stopped him, spared him, absolved him of his sins before they burgeoned beyond forgivable. But instead you let him kiss and bite and lick at your parted lips, hummed in approval as he brought his hands to your bare thighs - fingertips bruising in their rough grasp - and bore down against the hard bulge beneath his trousers.

There was a fire deep in your core, flames licking and dancing as they swept through your body. Your skin puckered with heat, every touch searing, every kiss and ragged breath drawing the blaze closer to the surface. You had never wanted someone this desperately before, never been so aroused that you could feel it tingling in your scalp, surging in your stomach and pooling between your legs as your clit pulsated with need.

You dragged the jumper over your head, turning it inside out as you impatiently peeled it from your body and threw it to the ground beside the couch. For three years, no one had seen you naked except Alfie, and there was a comfort that came with that. He'd already acquainted himself with the curves and blemishes of your body, the parts you liked and didn't. He'd seen the scar from an old bellybutton piercing, traced his fingers over the stretch marks on your hips. You never had to fear exposing yourself to him. Most of the time you never even had to; his eagerness to shove inside you completely outweighing his desire to fully undress.

For weeks you'd opened your legs for him, closed your eyes as he clumsily thrust into your body and imagined Father Benedict there instead. You would sink into a world of steepled ceilings and stained glass, dark curls and white collars. But when it was over, you would open your eyes and be back in the house - Gina's house - with Alfie's satisfied smile gleaming down at you.

But this time, Father Benedict wasn't a fantasy, and those piercing blue eyes were actually there, trailing over you in silence. You suddenly became very aware that you'd revealed yourself to him; bare chest, uncovered stomach, dips and contours and textures and curves, parts of you that had belonged solely to someone else for the last three years. A shyness washed over you, the urge to wrap your arms around yourself and hide. But as his gaze raked over your body, hands gliding slowly up your sides, you stilled.

A heavy breath fell from his parted lips, the exhale rattling with a soft growl. "Forgive me, Father," he muttered, his voice so low it was barely audible.

You couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic, or if he really was speaking to God; begging for mercy before he'd even taken a bite of the forbidden fruit.

He leaned forward, placing a kiss on your collarbone as his fingers dug into your hips. Your head fell back instinctively, opening yourself up to him, eyes closing as the warmth of his tongue trailed up to your neck. A shiver ran through you like static, raising goosebumps and tightening your nipples into painful, hard pearls. He hadn't spoken directly to you, and yet somehow every insecurity you had began to melt, dripping from your centre in wet, hot desire.

You took his hair in fistfuls as he traipsed kisses down your chest, teeth grazing over the soft flesh of each breast before pausing suddenly. You opened your eyes and brought your head forward, looking down to find him leaning back to examine you curiously.

"Are these bruises?" he asked.

You glanced down at yourself; the motley of reds, purples and browns marring your breasts.

"Love bites," you replied quietly, simply.

He glared up at you, half-lidded, jaw sharp.

"Does it bother you?" you asked.

"The evidence of another man's mouth all over you?"

"So it does?"

He didn't respond, his silence confirming your suspicion.

"Why?" you whispered.

"Because I know he didn't deserve the privilege."

You felt his words spark the nerves in your clit, like the striking of a match. You rolled your hips slightly, trying to ease the sudden ache. "Are you saying you do?"

"No." His tone darkened as he looked up at you. "But I plan to earn it."

You didn't know what you were expecting him to say. But it definitely wasn't that. It made you wish you could see yourself through his eyes - a woman he had to earn. You leant forward and swept him into another kiss; so overcome with need and adulation, the feeling of being desired and appreciated almost as arousing as his lips on your bare skin. He returned your kiss, just for a moment, before bringing a hand to your face, gripping your cheeks between finger and thumb to peel you away.

"After tonight, no one will ever touch you again unless they're worthy of you," he said, his voice so quiet and serious, lips grazing yours as he spoke. "Will you promise me that?"

You nodded, as much as his grasp on your face would allow.

He eased his grip, seemingly satisfied with your response, and allowed you to melt into him again. You fumbled for the buttons on his shirt as you kissed him, popping them open one by one until you reached the collar. It seemed wrong for you to take it off. Even now as you sat straddling him, half naked and panting heavily, that strip of white plastic around his neck was like armour, an impenetrable shield, blasphemous to remove.

"Go ahead," he said quietly, as if sensing your apprehension. "It just snaps off."

"You don't want to do it yourself?"

He closed his eyes for a brief moment. "Just do it."

You pulled at it with shaking fingers but it didn't budge. With a slight huff you tried again, harder, hearing two quick pops, a heavy exhale from his lips. You slid it out, eyes fixed on his as you dropped it to the ground - his commitment relinquished, abandoned, discarded into the puddle of your jumper on the floor.

He undid the last few buttons himself before placing his hands around your waist, silently granting permission for you to peel the shirt back from his body and reveal the smooth, cold skin beneath it. You lay your palms on his chest, dragging them slowly down his torso as you admired the sight, the feel, how he expanded with every breath, tensed with the tickle of your fingers. Some parts of him were soft, tender, malleable beneath your touch. Others were hard and robust, broader than you expected them to be. This person wasn't a dream, wasn't a character or a myth. This was a man.

His throat bobbed with a deep swallow as you leant forward and placed a kiss on his chest, his hold on you tightening, body turning rigid beneath you. You trailed your lips up to his neck, revelling in the taste of him; salt and earth, soap and faded aftershave.

"Tell me about the fantasies," he whispered through a serrated breath.

"What do you mean?"

"I want to know what you pictured when you thought of me."

You paused before moving your mouth up to his jaw, kissing along the sharp edge, the slightest brush of stubble beginning to surface.

"I'll tell you what I was thinking about today in my office," he wagered.

You thought about it for a moment. "Okay. You first."

"I was thinking about you kneeling for communion at the altar." He turned his head, his deep, gravelly voice pouring straight into your ear. "With my cock down your throat."

You gasped gently as a rush of warmth flooded your core, making you roll your hips to ride the sudden, intense wave.

"You give sermons with that mouth, Father," you said softly, voice trembling despite your attempt to sound playful.

His hands glided up and down your back, nails grazing lightly over your goose-bumped flesh. "Now you."

"I never really thought of a specific scene. It's just... always you. But-" you cut yourself off, inhaling the words back into your lungs before they even had the chance to escape.

"But?"

You lifted your head to look at him. "One thing always stays the same."

"And that is?"

"You're never... Gentle."

He buckled beneath you, closing his eyes and letting his head fall against the back of the couch, a stifled groan resonating in the base of his throat. "Hot, fiery Hell," he growled, pushing himself up between your legs.

He felt big; his cock firm and straining as it surged against your sheathed entrance. You wanted to release it, hold it in your hands, run your tongue along every inch. You wanted to acquaint the curl of your fingers with its girth, stroke, grip, tease, watch it sink gradually inside you until there was nothing left of it. For the longest time, sex had been a chore; Alfie's penis a jabbing, graceless thing that prodded around but never truly satisfied. You'd forgotten what it was like to truly crave the intrusion, to feel yourself lubricated and ready before you'd even fully undressed.

He weaved a hand through you hair, wrenching you towards him and swallowing you in another heady, desperate kiss. The other hand slid beneath the rumpled fabric of your boxers, tracing his fingers back and forth over the crease where thigh met hip. You willed him to move further inward, mewling with every almost-touch until the sensation became unbearable. You'd waited so long for this; sat through so many sermons, suffered the ache of uncomfortable pews and unsafe bus rides, the suspicious glare of church volunteers and the boredom of those fucking support groups. It was time to embrace where it had led you to.

You were his penance, but he was your reward.

You reached down and began working to unfasten his trousers, battling with the complicated fly until it finally opened. He came undone with it, breathing a hot sigh into your mouth as you stroked and caressed him through his underwear. He steered his fingers over the junction of your bikini line and you gasped as they slipped easily through your wet folds, gliding back and forth before settling on your clit.

He gave a proud hum as he rolled the pad of his thumb over the tender bud, rousing a storm in your core; sparks of lightning and deep, undulating thunder. You moaned softly, grip tightening around the outline of his rigid length. A shiver rippled through you, making your legs shake, hips bucking involuntarily and pushing you harder against his touch.

Maintaining the pressure on your clit, he moved his other hand to the waistband of your boxers - his boxers, now drenched in the evidence of your desire - silently instructing you to take them off. But you didn't want to leave him, even for a moment. Scared that your brief separation would bring him clarity, grant him just enough time to change his mind. You pressed your forehead to his as you lingered there, staring down into his eyes and searching for doubt in the flecks of his irises.

He removed his hands from you completely - the loss of contact turning the pleasure to a heavy, mournful ache - and tugged at the crumpled material around your waist.

"Ellis," he growled.

You gave in and climbed off him, the weight of your movements inciting a stifled groan in his chest. And in the time it took the boxers to fall to the ground, you were back on his lap, bare pussy grinding against the rough fabric of his trousers; buttons and open fly, the Y-shaped seam of his underwear and confined curve of his cock.

Was God here right now? Spying from the corner of the room like some omniscient voyeur? You'd never been one for exhibitionism. But there was a strange power that came with the thought of your naked body shrouded in a celestial gaze, deities forced to watch but unable to intervene.

You felt Father Benedict shift a hand beneath you, shucking his trousers further down his hips and fisting at his underwear. His cock sprung free against your ass, firm and heavy as it settle along the groove between your cheeks. Your breath turned shallow at the mere thought of having him inside you, a deep shiver rippling through your core like a prophecy of that first thrust.

You lifted yourself slightly, enough for him to reach down and grip the base of his cock, gliding the engorged head through the slick between your legs. He was eager, impatient - maybe he was scared of changing his mind too.

"Are you sure about this?" you whispered, shivering as you felt him prodding against your entrance.

His gaze darkened, like a crisp blue sky in the onset of a storm, and in one smooth, firm slide, he entered you. A sound poured out of you that you'd never heard yourself make before; shock, relief, pleasure, all at once. You marvelled at the stretching sensation, the way your body welcomed every inch of his cock with such ease, your inner walls flexing and moulding around the thick veins and hard ridges as it filled you to the very depths.

His eyes clamped shut, the muscle in his jaw pulsating as he fought to maintain his composure. "I haven't been sure about anything since the moment I met you," he finally replied.

You leaned forward and pressed your lips to the dimple at the corner of his mouth, trying to soothe the tension he was storing there. You draped your arms around his shoulders and let your chest fall against his, running your fingers through the back of his hair, the curls that fell over the nape of his neck.

This was it. This was really happening.

For the longest time you'd felt incomplete; a collection of empty spaces and uncharted lands, voids too deep and complex for anyone to explore, even you. But in the short time you'd known Father Benedict, he'd somehow managed to journey to the very centre of those places, laid down roots and watched them flourish, as swift and besieging as English ivy on fractured stone. Perhaps that was why this felt so right; because the hollows of your body were already his to pervade.

He was bigger than Alfie; thicker, longer, the snug fit stealing the air from your lungs as you relaxed against him. No man had ever filled you this completely; flooding your pelvis with a warm, tense pressure before he'd even moved a muscle. You rolled your hips, testing the feel of him, and gasped quietly as electricity surged through your belly.

A deep, husky groan dripped into your ear, long fingers and large palms skimming up your thighs and settling on your waist with a clawing grasp. His voice sent a chill across your skin, even the finest hairs bristling in response.

"Ellis," he rumbled. "I'm really trying not to lose my composure."

You kissed him softly, allowing another slow, controlled rotation. His voice rattled in the back of his throat, nails pressing half-moons into the dips of your waist. There was something charming in his restraint; how even in this moment, with his cock buried inside you, he was still trying to maintain his civility.

You tightened your hold on his hair, deepening the connection until you were nothing but a blur of sweeping tongues and hot, heavy breaths. His body trembled beneath you as you gradually began to move, hips grinding and rotating to the rhythm of your kisses, punctuating each slide of his length with a soft, desperate whimper.

A divine friction resonated in your core; his cock a rigid, firm stave, your pussy a soft, pliant sheath, moving together in both harmony and dissonance, like the trill of a choir. With every upstroke, your nipples grazed his open shirt, and when you bore down, an electric current hummed in your clit.

"Fuck." The word stuck between your teeth before escaping in a sigh.

His hands caressed your back, the wide span of his fingers leaving no part of you untouched; squeezing, prodding, tickling, each stroke perfectly in tune with the motion of your hips. You rested your forehead in the crook of his neck, the feeling of his collar against your cheek making you realise he hadn't undressed. Not really. You'd stripped bare for him, offered your unclad body like a tribute for him to bask in. You were a creature of desire, his Mary Magdalene, completely devoted to serve.

You felt your thighs growing tired, sore and shaking, a heavy burn smouldering in your muscles. You relaxed your pace, dropping your full weight into his lap as you slowed your movements to a lazy grind. The new sensation made you moan softly against his skin, savouring the longer, deeper slides, the crown of his cock sinking right down to your soul.

His head fell back, a swallow thrumming down his throat. "My god," he groaned.

A smile pulled at your cheeks, the lord's name in vain so delicious whenever it came from him. And this one was your fault; your body guiding him to commit sin after glorious sin. You placed a kiss on his neck, seizing a moment of boldness by taking the skin into your mouth and drawing a bruise to the surface.

You half expected him to push you away, chastise you for marking him in a place he'd struggle to hide. But instead you felt his arms flex around you, thighs tensing as he moved to plant his feet firmly on the ground. A jolt of spine-tingling pleasure burst through you as he thrust to meet the languid roll of your hips, turning what was supposed to be a smooth, relaxed gyration into a hard, forceful collision. Your mouth fell open, a dazed cry falling from your parted lips.

He growled softly in response, his control waning.

Your pussy tensed around his cock as he slammed into you again, every ridge and groove of your inner walls melding to embrace him. He brought a hand to your face, drawing you into another fevered, hungry kiss. You obliged obediently, as though you were his to use, a disciple eager to please.

You hummed and groaned against his lips with every pump of his cock, the couch creaking beneath the weight of your union, his hand welded to the back of your head, the other on your backside directing your movements. He was driving you towards completion, filling you with a heat and pressure that grew stronger with every stroke. The feeling continued to swell, expanding deep in your stomach until it was dancing along your nerves; setting you alight.

You'd gotten used to not finishing. Alfie's premature climaxes so normalised that you no longer even protested the stuttering hips and garbled moans. Men came. Sometimes you did too, usually alone with your fingers after they rolled off you and went to sleep. But even in the times you did orgasm, it never felt like this.

Your entire body shuddered, cells exploding and stitching themselves back together again. There was a throbbing in your clit, an ache in your core, the brushing of his cock inside you so sensitive you could no longer tell the difference between pleasure and pain.

He kept your head up with his hand, forcing you to look at him as you rode out every last wave, the aftershocks causing your walls to clench around his cock, coaxing him to his own release. He came soon after with a deep, guttural groan, sinking right down to the root as he flooded you with his seed.

You sat breathless on his lap, still joined to him as he began to soften inside you, his eyes so dark it was like staring into the night sky. If this really was what damnation looked like, then you would happily burn for an eternity.

*If you would like to be tagged in the next chapter, please leave a comment below, or feel free to add yourself to the list here

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berrypockets · 1 year

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My single *ss is bored and had enough of my family asking on when I'm getting married. So I made these for the holiday - gonna live in the moment imagining I'm in a relationship with my favorite actors, Benedict Cumberbatch and Cillian Murphy.

Merry Christmas y'all.

Shared the one with Ben on my ig story and I'm happy to share that my family is happily thinking I'm in a relationship.

Me too 🤭

#benedict cumberbatch #cillian murphy #benedict cumberbatch x reader #cillian murphy x reader #benedict cumberbatch imagine #cillian murphy imagine #benedict cumberbatch fanfiction #cillian murphy fanfiction #peaky blinders #doctor strange #tommy shelby #bbc sherlock

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jokatsuya · 2 years

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Hello Lovely! I was wondering if you could write a Sherlock x reader, only if you want to of course. Where Sherlock kisses the reader’s cheek without thinking as he's rushing out the door to a crime scene. John and reader are surprised bc Reader and Sherl aren't dating just yet?

A fraction of a moment

Sherlock x reader / Sherlock x G/n reader

Wordcount: 1321

Warnings: actually none as long as you are not a high functioning sociopath (if you are: Watch out! A little bit of fluff.)

Summary: Check out the sweet request by @lovely-lady-lumps

A/n: The writing was really funny and the ending offers something for the future, so you can stay excited. Hopefully I could fulfill the wishes and expectations. Hope you like it as much as I do, so have fun reading. Yours JoKatsuya

There he stands, the tall handsome man, who daily provides for the fascination of my side. In my opinion, I will probably never be able to fully understand his thought processes, be it said that I do not even want it. I mean, where's the magic, the allure of being enchanted again day after day by him, his talents,...his looks, to be honest, if you understood the tricks? But this is Sherlock Holmes, known for not understanding emotions according to his own words, let alone wanting to feel them.

In such conversations, he then often begins to allude to the limbic system, which for me, in the precision of the explanations, no longer gives a clear context after a few moments. And should he notice in his monologues that I was no longer mentally present, he had made it his own a while ago to occasionally draw my attention back to his words through, sometimes also uncharming ways. Something that never really surprised me until John had brought it up once. Besides, he also said that I would be something special for Sherlock, but this seems to me very absurd, since Sherlock describes himself as a sociopath; someone who has an abnormal relationship to the community. Specifically, it's people with little empathy and a lack of guilt who promote their own pleasure by taking advantage of those around them, but to be honest, Sherlock is so much more than that.

He can be funny when he wants to be, he can listen when he wants to listen, he thinks about the welfare of his fellow man far more often than some of the rest of us. God, I'm starting to sound like one of those love-struck teenagers from the old familiar romances.

Partly embarrassed, partly slightly disturbed at my own thought processes, I shake my head slightly. Sherlock still seems to be talking to Greg on the phone, which visibly annoys him. In the meantime, he is pacing up and down the living room, while he keeps glancing into the kitchen at his latest experiment.

At the moment I understood at least to some extent his absurd request, which he had to make me at half past three in the night. The whole had brought me additionally not only around my well-deserved and urgently necessary sleep, but also around one of my coffee cups, in which something swam, that belonged probably once to a living organism. I will definitely get a replacement from him.

The great consulting detective Sherlock Holmes, was an amazingly chaotic roommate, as well as dramatic contemporary, taking any drama he could. A grin flashes across my lips, whereupon Sherlock holds a hand in front of his cell phone and hisses somewhat annoyed almost silently: >>Stop it.<<

Confused, I eye him, but then finally turn my attention back to my book, to which I have once again paid far too little attention for far too long in Sherlock's presence, only to stare at the man in front of me in detail and far too conspicuously.

>>That's great!...Why shouldn't I be happy?<<, his delighted tones of his pleasantly deeper voice come forth.

Just as I finally get through another page and am about to start the next one, John walks into the apartment and greets me with a raised hand and a friendly smile before walking quickly towards me.

John is Sherlock's best friend even if the curly-haired man doesn't like to admit it to himself, everyone knows it and I think he does too. And whoosh, we're back on the same topic as before.

>>Want a cup of tea?<<, I turn to John, with a delayed glance that lingers on Sherlock for a second too long. Jesus, that's one of your closest friends right there (y/n), get a grip. You're definitely not going to risk that friendship over something like that. This friendship and the trust of both parties is hard earned and should not be threatened by such inanity.

>>Yes, gladly. But don't go to any trouble.<<, John answers with his well-known good manners and grabs the current newspaper at the same moment. Well, supposedly good manners would probably be a better formulation.

I get up with a swing and make my way to the kitchen, careful not to contaminate Sherlock's experiment or make it completely unusable by any other wrong moves. I overhear the two men talking to each other, but I can't quite make out what they're talking about because the water is starting to boil. After a few more moments, I return to the other two with two cups of tea and hand John his cup, which he accepts with thanks. But just as Watson joyfully accepts his, two long arms appear in my field of vision, which literally snatch my cup from my hand. I immediately stare into Sherlock's blue-grey eyes, hoping to have just seen a supposed hint of a smile! Such impudence.

John, however, seems to have been so pulled out of his coordination with the cup that some of the still-hot delicious-smelling contents spill onto his shirt, causing him to hiss and directly rebuke his friend for finally learning some manners. I give Sherlock a withering look. He seems to have noticed this out of the corner of his eye and lets his head dart briefly to me before he apparently realizes what I'm trying to signal to him and turns his head directly back to me, still slightly confused.

John doesn't seem to care much about our exchange of glances, so he stands up and disappears in the direction of the bathroom.

A bit angry that he had just taken my tea, I try to snatch the cup from his hands again, but in vain. Each time I struggle to make another attempt at reclaiming it, he lifts the small container out of my reach, turns away in dance-like movements, or makes any of his just-about-to-be-epic remarks, about my inefficient approach.

When I finally admit defeat, he cheekily places the empty cup in front of me and heads towards the coat rack to throw on his coat at a pace that would make you think he's done nothing else all his life. Admittedly a relatively rewarding sight...No, I haven't forgiven him for what he did just now!

>>John? Come on!<<, Sherlock calls into the apartment, just straightening his scarf as the doctor re-enters.

>>What is it?<<, he replies, but obviously not yet over what happened just now.

>>You come with me.<<

>>Where?<<

>>A double murder on the Thames and you know what's even better...<<, Sherlock euphorically starts to answer before he is immediately interrupted by John, who runs his hands over his temples.

>>I just got here. Can't you give me some peace and quiet?<<

Suddenly Sherlock flits past me while he replies indignantly: >>You want it too<< And before he lets his friend answer, he flits past me again. My breath catches in my throat.

As if in slow motion, he presses a gentle kiss on my cheek before he runs down the stairs without elaborating and calls out, sounding almost rushed: >>John, come on now!<<

Completely perplexed I stare blinking at John, who can grasp just as little as I what has just happened. My skin seems to literally burn: >>What just happened?<<

>>Are you two...<<, John starts a question, just as confused and overwhelmed by the situation as I seem.

>>No.<<, I hastily take the answer out of his mouth and sink down on the couch.

Had Sherlock actually just...kissed me? No, or had he? My emotions seem to be on a roller coaster right now. I have so many questions. My head is spinning. All the emotions that come out of this situation are mixed up and make me feel strange inside. Can I perhaps allow deeper feelings for this man who is otherwise so distant from others and would he perhaps...reciprocate them? That fraction of a moment was indescribable.

Strictly do not: copy, claim or translate those stories of mine anywhere else

#sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock x reader #bbc sherlock #sherlock x y/n #benedict cumberbatch #benedict cumberbatch x reader #bbc #sherlock fic #john watson #dr watson #greg lestrad #inspector lestrade #sherlock fanfiction #benedict cumberbatch fic #benedict cumberbatch fanfiction #221b #221b baker street #sherlock holmes #sherlock

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geeky-politics-46 · 2 years

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Headcannons for Doctor Strange and his crush having the "oops there's only one bed" thing happen (you did this to yourself with the last two posts :p)

I also have a request from @evelynrosestuff to make this one bed trope into a full story. So depending on how this little headcanon goes you may be getting a full story too.

It was supposed to be a solo vacation for you.

Time away from work (or magic/or the Avengers).

A ginormous room with a great romantic view and a huge bed.

Sure you were by yourself but a little solo romance is a good thing.

So you were less than thrilled when a giant monster showed up in the hotel pool.

It was the easiest for Stephen and Wong to take care of, with being able to portal and all.

It didn't take much time or difficulty for them to take care of the monster and there was hardly any damage.

Wong was quick to head back to Kamar-Taj having been mid-lesson when said monster showed up.

Stephen insisted on hanging around for a bit to make sure everyone and everything was under control.

Only there was one little problem when he went to portal back to the Sanctum. His sling ring was gone.

So without a way to portal back, Wong not answering the phone, & Cloak refusing to fly him all the way back he was left with no choice but to stay.

You practically burst out laughing when the snotty receptionist told you the hotel was completely booked, because of course it was.

After pouting and making him beg a little you finally caved and told Stephen He could stay with you.

Sure you only had one bed, but it was big and you could always make Cloak lay between you.

Turns out when Cloak doesn't want to do something, it's more stubborn than Stephen.

Cloak insisted on taking up residence on the couch in the living room area. The entire couch, & stealing the extra pillows for some reason. Basically the Cloak had a room to itself.

It wasn't until Stephen went to take a shower that he realized he had nothing go sleep in except for the robes he was wearing.

Luckily for him you may have "accidentally" stolen a pair of his sweatpants. So at least he didn't have to sleep naked.

You were wearing a loose large neck night shirt. The fabric was incredibly soft but a little thin. It fell mid-thigh & didn't leave much to the imagination. It was also the comfiest thing you had ever worn so screw it.

You were already under the covers when Stephen came out of the bathroom. His hair wet and tousled, with soft waves forming. Some water droplets falling & rolling down his sculpted chest & abdomen. They medium blue sweatpants sitting low on his hips.

Oh fuck, there's the outline of his cock. Jesus, if he's that big soft he must be massive when he's hard.

Oh god now you were picturing Stephen's cock hard… and in your hand… or your mouth.

Has he always looked so yummy? You find yourself squeezing your thighs together under the blanket hoping he won't notice.

How is it just now that you realized how long it had been since you had sex with someone, other than yourself.

As Stephen pulled back his side of the covers you started flipping through TV channels trying to distract yourself from the hunky sorcerer crawling in bed with you.

The sound of the TV must have aggravated Cloak as he quickly flew over and shut the door separating the rooms. Leaving you and Stephen all alone.

After about the third time you circled back to the menu channel Stephen tool the remote away from you and turned the TV off before leaning directly over you to put the remote on your nightstand.

He stopped as his face was still leaning close to yours, smiling when he felt you hold your breath, "Why don't we just go to bed?"

There had always been a little bit of a flirtation between the two of you, and at this moment the air was thick with tension as you laid there next to each other in the darkness.

Eventually you both managed to drift off to a decent sleep.

You woke up feeling warm but were met with resistance when you went to throw the blanket back.

You quickly realized that the warmth was coming from the sorcerer cuddled up against your back with his arm wrapped around your middle.

As you tried to wiggle loose your hips rocked back into his and you could help but gasp as you felt his cock hard against you. A groan pulled from his throat and he started to stir.

Stephen loosened his grip and let you wiggle away once he realized he was hard and you had definitely noticed.

He sat up and leaned his head into his hands, wiping his hands over his face to wake himself up as well as mentally scold himself. He assumed he had completely screwed things up now.

He was surprised when you didn't jump out of the bed and started yelling at him. Instead you just sat there next to him stating at your hands. Slightly ashamed at how turned on you were by the feeling of him hard and holding you.

You both started apologizing at the same time and generally becoming flustered dorks.

"I'm sorry" "Wait, why are you sorry?" "No, why are you sorry?"

Eventually you both started laughing, clearly realizing that you both may have feelings for each other.

You both slowly leaned in, you rested your hands on his shoulders and he rested his on your ribcage, eventually your lips met in a soft shy kiss.

After pulling back for just a second you both kissed each other harder.

Eventually you are the one that throws him down on the bed and moves to straddle him.

He laughs at how needy you seem to be for him.

You tell him that he can consider this an apology for ruining your romantic vacation, especially if he can make you cum.

He flips you onto your back as he pushes his sweatpants off. Never give this man a challenge if you don't mean it.

The two of you spend the whole night fooling around and having amazing sex, finally admitting your feelings for each other.

After only an hour or two of actual sleep, Cloakie bursts in and wakes you up together having ordered you breakfast in bed (used the TV room service option).

When it flies in and places the tray on the bed between you it also drops Stephen's sling ring on the tray.

Suddenly you two realize you were both set up by a nosey cloak who is now circled behind you encasing you both in a tight hug.

--------------------------------

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