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strawberrywinter4 · 2 months

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Watch and You’ll See

"John takes up birdwatching. Sherlock is baffled but supportive."

Thanks to @stellacartography for the prompt!

Fandom: Sherlock (TV)

Relationship: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson

Tags: Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Birdwatching, Cheek Kisses, Reassurances, John’s new hobby, Sherlock Holmes Loves John Watson, Angst

Read here on ao3.

*•*•*•*•*

“You didn’t have to come with me, you know,” John says as they stroll down the path.

“I didn’t,” Sherlock confirms. “However, this new… hobby of yours leaves me no choice but to find answers.”

John only rolls his eyes, the conversation morphing into silence.

Sherlock eyes the book titled Birds and All You Need to Know in John’s hand, a bag slung around his shoulder. Sherlock just doesn’t understand and it’s bothering him considerably. John Watson is a veteran, a man who’s killed several, a professional doctor, and, in all honesty, a dangerous man in some situations.

And he’s taken up birdwatching.

Yes, he’s also taken up blogging as well, but his therapist requested that, and he’s gotten quite the following. So, Sherlock can’t ponder why John would dive into a hobby such as watching birds; a calm and overall observant activity on which one must focus.

It started as a slow process. On days when they didn’t have a case, John would slip out of the flat without a word, a slim bag over his shoulder. Then, the bag turned into an obvious organizer for supplies. Sherlock could make out the outline of a binocular, but that’s all. Once he finally confronted John and asked where he was headed at least two times a week, John casually responded, “Birdwatching,” with a happy-go-lucky smile on his lips.

Sherlock blinked, baffled by the statement.

Now, John has taken his hobby to the next level and decided to take a day trip to Sussex, where there is more nature to be appreciated. John only mentioned that he was off for the day and that he probably wouldn’t be home until late afternoon, but Sherlock was having none of it.

This was piquing his interest.

Sherlock insisted on accompanying John, which John first protested, but Sherlock didn’t care for his argument.

They sit on a bench that overlooks plenty of branches and slim trees. John sighs, setting his bag down and grabbing his binoculars from inside.

“Again, you really didn’t have to come,” John says again as if that will get Sherlock to disappear.

Sherlock can tell John expects him to poke fun, to laugh at such a contrasting hobby to which he would usually have. But Sherlock does nothing of the sort.

Instead, he leans forward and kisses the doctor’s cheek. “You are ridiculous sometimes,” Sherlock says. He then takes the book from John’s hands and begins observing the hardcover.

John continues to stare at him in bewilderment.

“Tedious… but probably factual,” Sherlock murmurs. He then looks at John. “Do you have a notepad?”

John blinks, then nods slowly. He gets out a notepad and a writing pen from his bag, handing it to Sherlock. Sherlock sees that John has already scribbled down on each set of paper, filling up almost half the notepad.

Sherlock feels warmth overtake his chest.

It’s… quite adorable, really. John is so dedicated to this activity and it shows in his writing, each category of birds having notes of specifics under them.

Sherlock hides his smile, eyes settling on John.

John huffs a laugh as he sees Sherlock’s expression. “Yeah, yeah. Laugh all you want, you git,” he says as he reaches for his notepad.

Sherlock holds it out of reach with ease. “I’m doing no such thing,” Sherlock tells him. “Now, I suggest you start before it gets dark.”

“What, so you can take pictures and send them to Greg?” John questions.

“Who?”

“Never mind. Just- Sherlock, it’s embarrassing.”

“Why should it be?” asks Sherlock. “I’m simply watching you enjoy something that you’re fond of.”

“Sherlock-”

“John.” Sherlock’s voice is, for once, genuine. “Please. I’m… glad you have something to pass your time with. There’s no need to be embarrassed.”

John smiles gratefully at him.

For the rest of the day, the two men observe different birds, Sherlock admittedly finding this hobby fascinating as well. The majority of it consists of observations, so why wouldn’t he? Sherlock also can’t be blamed for correcting John’s monitoring throughout their experience or slipping the notepad out of John’s hands to write his own set of notes.

And he can’t be blamed for staring at John in awe every time the blogger acquires a glint in his eye when he sees a new bird, or when he pats Sherlock’s arm excitedly when a bird appears close.

All the more reason to love John Watson.

*•*•*•*•*

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

(Please let me know if you don’t wish to be tagged or if you’d like to be tagged. Thank you so much for the reposts!!💞)

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lisbeth-kk · 11 days

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Fluffbruary Extended Edition April 14, prompts: coffee - florist - vision.

Green and Forbidden

Summary: After Sherlock's injury, it seems to John that he's dreaming about something that baffles him. Hopefully Sherlock will remember everything once he wakes from his unconsciousness. The story Sherlock tells John is quite remarkable, and his conclusion in the end skips at least one crucial step...

@fluffbruary @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @phoenix27884 @safedistancefrombeingsmart @helloliriels @gregorovitch-adler @topsyturvy-turtely @raina-at @peanitbear @7-percent @ninasnakie @a-victorian-girl

#fluffbruary 2024 #fluffbruary extended version #sherlock fandom #sherlock #john watson #johnlock #bbc sherlock #sherlock fanfic #ao3 fanfic #reblog the fluff!

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fallingforunrealisticromance · 1 year

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Hold me - Sherlock x fem!reader

Request: "Can you one with the bbc sherlock x female reader? Maybe one where sherlock is touched starved but doesn't realise it. And then he meets the reader and it's all fluffy at the end please? xx"

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2156

A/N: I'm so sorry i haven't been posting!! I've had a hectic month and not much time to write but i'm getting back to it!! If you have requested something, I'm getting round to them slowly but surely. Thank you all <33

Requests

Prompts

Masterlist

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

Sherlock never realised how touch starved he was. It was never really something he ever paid any attention to. In his mind, physical affection was yet another unimportant custom most normal people liked to spend their time searching for. He couldn’t be bothered with that. That was, until he met you.

*******************************************************************

“Stop talking Anderson, it lowers the IQ of the entire street.” Sherlock hissed.

You let out a small laugh as Sherlock, slammed the door in his face. John and Lestrade both turned to look at you.

“Sorry. It’s just- well he’s not wrong.” You said, shrugging your shoulders.

“I very rarely am.” Sherlock replied without looking over at you.

You rolled your eyes “Okay, no need to get all cocky Mr detective.”

You walked past him, resting your hand on the shoulder, before quickly taking removing it. “Sorry.”

Sherlocks brow furrowed. “Why are you sorry?”

“I know you don’t like people touching you.” You replied nonchalantly.

Sherlock went to speak but the words died on his tongue. So instead, he opted for a sharp nod before turning his attention back to the dead body in front of him. He had actually rather liked the feeling of your fingers running along his arm, even if it was only for a second. You were right, normally he would hate people touching him. But he found himself wishing that you would do it again, only this time leave your hand there for maybe a while longer.

“Sherlock.” John’s voice snapped the detective from his thoughts.

“Hmm?” He mumbled.

“You found anything? You’ve been crouched there for a few minutes now.”

Sherlock stood up, brushing the dirt from his coat.

“It was her husband. He killed her.” Sherlock relayed to Lestrade before promptly leaving the room.

********************************************************************

“Well. That’s one way to get home.” You said breathlessly as you rested against the wall of 221b.

“Yeah next time we have a case sherlock, can we not chase the killer through London on foot? They have cabs for a reason.” John panted, flopping down on the sofa.

“A cab would have been far too slow Watson.” You answered, smiling at him. “However, I have to agree with him sherlock, less running next time yeah?” You said to the detective who was leaning on his desk.

“Oh I don’t know, I think it adds to the fun.” Sherlock said with a tight-lipped smile.

“Did sherlock Holmes just make a joke?” John asked, staring at you in shock.

“Oh god the bloods rushed to his head” You replied jokingly. Sherlock just scoffed at the pair of you.

“Right, it’s been fun boys but I should probably be off.” You went to take a step forward without noticing your shoelace was undone.

You tripped over, falling forward expecting to crash into the hard floor beneath you. What you weren’t anticipating was sherlock catching you. His arms wrapped around your stomach as your hands clung to his arms. His heartbeat increased rapidly as you rested against him for a moment, trying to regain your footing. You stood up still clutching his arms.

“That’s embarrassing.” You laughed looking down at your shoes, seemingly unaware of sherlocks hands planted firmly just above your hips.

Sherlocks head was spinning. The feeling of your body pressed against him was something he quite enjoyed, even if it was in an awkward position.

You patted sherlocks shoulder.

“Thanks mate, that could’ve been a lot more painful.” To sherlocks disappointment, you moved out of his grasp in order to tie your shoelace.

John furrowed his brow as he noticed the hint of longing held in sherlocks gaze before it quickly faded.

“Yeah. No problem. See you later.” He said before promptly leaving to go to his room.

You watched him leave, rather confused by his rapid exit. “Did he seem a bit off to you?” You asked john.

“Yeah a bit.” He replied honestly.

“Well check up on him, make sure he’s alright yeah?” John nodded at your words. “Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow probably. Bye Watson.” And with that you left the infamous flat.

********************************************************************

Since then, sherlock found any excuse he could to have some form of contact with you. Whether it was standing that little bit closer to you in order for his arm to brush yours every so often, or letting you hold his hand if you were ever scared. Your touch provided him with a sense of comfort he never knew he’d needed.

Currently you were sat in your flat, curled up under some blankets on your sofa. There had been a lot of draining cases lately and while you wouldn’t swap your job for anything else – it really took a toll on you. You’d barely slept over the past week and when you had it had been a restless, disturbed night. Your body felt as if it was going to shut down any minute soon and you were honestly hoping it would as it might allow you to finally get a decent rest. However, as this is your life and nothing is ever that simple, your phone began to ring. Reluctantly you pulled your hands out from the bundle of warmth you had created and lifted the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Y/n hi its Greg.”

You shot up. You loved Greg but he never called for a good reason, something was always wrong. You didn’t have it in you for another case right now, but that was what you were paid for. Your wellbeing would just have to wait.

“What is it this time? Please don’t tell me it’s another murder” You replied.

Lestrade chuckled stiffly. “Er no it’s not a case as such.” He fell quiet.

“Well?” You prompted. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s sherlock. He’s well I don’t really know.” Greg replied.

That did nothing to calm your nerves, if anything it set you more on edge. “

Is john with you?” You asked.

“Uh yeah, I’ll pass you to him.” You heard a small conversation before john’s voice came through the phone.

“Hi y/n”

“What’s wrong with him?” You asked, heart beating rapidly.

You knew he had issues with drugs and if tonight was a bad night, you needed to know. You cared immensely for the detective.

“Well nothing I don’t think. It’s weird, I’m pretty sure he’s gone into his ‘mind palace’ but he just keeps saying your name.” John explained.

You fell silent. Why would sherlock be saying your name in his mind palace? Actually why was he saying your name at all?

“My name?” You repeated.

“Yeah I don’t actually have a clue what’s going on, could you come over?” John asked.

“Um yeah. Yeah I’ll be on my way.” You hung up the phone before scrambling to get off of the sofa. This was really strange, but you just needed to know that he was okay.

After about 20 minutes you found yourself knocking at 221b as you’d done many times in the past, but tonight felt weird. Mrs Hudson opened the door, beaming at you.

“Oh y/n! How lovely to see you” She said pulling you in for a hug.

“Hi Mrs Hudson. I’m here for…well I don’t actually know. John asked me to come.” You explained.

“Yes sherlock’s been acting very strange tonight.” You raised your eyebrows at her. “Stranger than normal my dear. He was getting really worked up about a case earlier and he was doing his normal anticks. You know, pacing, shooting my wall, yelling at john – the normal. But he just went quiet, john said he went to his mind palace whatever that is. Apparently he keeps asking for you.” She explained.

“Yeah john said.” You replied quietly, looking up at the stairs.

“Well you better go up there dear.” She patted your back before returning to her flat.

You took a deep breath before making your way up the stairs. You weren’t sure why you were so nervous, but your hands were shaking tremendously. You pushed the door open, seeing sherlock, sat in his chair with his eyes closed.

“Hi” You said quietly. John and Lestrade greeted you. “So I’m here but what exactly am I meant to do?” You asked looking over at the detective.

“Not a clue. Just talk to him?” John suggested.

You sighed. “okay.” You made your way over to him. “Hi Sherloc-“

But before you could finish your sentence, the detective jumped up from his chair wrapping his arms around your waist. He pulled you into his body, holding you tightly. His head fell to your shoulder, burrowing it in the crook of your neck. That was the last thing you’d expected him to do. You stood wide eyed, your arms hanging either side of you. This was not like sherlock at all, not that you minded his sudden display of affection – but it worried you slightly.

“Hold me. Please.” He whispered, so only you could hear. His breath against your neck sent a shiver down your spine, your heart racing. He sounded so desperate; it almost made you cry.

“Okay.” You said softly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, slowly running your fingers through the base of his curls.

He sighed, and almost melted into your touch as you did so. You could feel his hands clutching your shirt, as if he was trying to calm himself down.

“You’re okay sherlock. I’m here, your safe.” You mumbled softly.

You had no idea what he was feeling right now, but it felt like that’s what he needed to hear. The two of you stayed there for a while, you just allowing Sherlock to do what he needed. John and Lestrade stood behind you, staring at the sight before them in utter shock. After a moment, sherlock pulled his head up to face you without releasing his hold on your waist. Your eyes scanned his own, trying to figure him out. His face was flushed red from having rested on you for so long

“Hello.” He said gently.

You smiled at him, arms still loosely around his neck.

“Hi.” You replied.

Slowly, sherlock reached a hand up to cup your face. His thumb moved gently across your cheek as he looked down at you. You were almost certain your heart was about to explode.

“Why won’t you get out of my head?” He questioned, more to himself than anyone else.

“I’m…sorry?” You offered not entirely sure what to say back.

He smiled at you.

“Don’t be. I’m more than okay with it. It’s just…strange. I’ve never craved another person before. But you.” His voice trailed off as he stared at you like you were the most precious thing to walk the earth. “You are all I think about. All the time. I want to be with you, near you. I want to touch you all the time.”

You were speechless.

“Not even necessarily in a sexual way. But just, feel you. You seem to calm me in a way nothing ever has before.”

You could feel tears threatening to fall. You weren’t sure exactly why, but just the raw emotion sherlock was willing to show you was overwhelming. In the best way possible.

“I’m glad I can help.” You voice was quiet, barely audible, but you knew he’d heard you.

“So can I-“ John’s voice interrupted.

“Get out. The pair of you.” Sherlock snapped, not even looking at them.

You laughed slightly, turning your head to face them. “I’d listen to him lads. I think I’ll be okay.”

Greg looked utterly baffled but didn’t question it.

“You do know I live here?” John said.

“Well go talk to Mrs Hudson?” You suggested, feeling sherlock becoming rather annoyed.

“Go.” He demanded.

With that, they left the flat. Sherlock gently pulled your head to look back at him. His eyes flickered down to your lips ever so slightly.

“I want to try something.” He said softly.

“Okay.” You replied, knowing exactly what he was going to do. He lowered his face to yours until you could feel his breath fanning across your lips.

“Are you sure-“

“Sherlock just kiss me.” You begged.

Without any hesitation, he crashed his lips against yours. He held your face gently as if he was scared, he would lose you while pulling you impossibly closer. His lips were soft as they melted against yours. Your heart was hammering in your chest, you were sure it would break free. Reluctantly, you pulled away to breathe, but Sherlock kept a firm grip on you as he rested his forehead against yours.

“I don’t know what this is.” He spoke softly, not wanting to ruin the moment. “But I do know, I don’t want to be apart from you. Will you stay with me?” He asked, eyes full of hope.

You grinned up at him as you ran your fingers through his hair.

“Until you order me away.” You replied happily, before leaning forward to kiss him once again.

#sherlockbbc #sherlock bbc #sherlock reader insert #bbc sherlock #sherlock holmes #sherlock x you #sherlock x reader #touch starved #john watson #greg lestrade #x reader #fluff #fluffy #kiss #first kiss #benedict cumberbatch #doctor strange x reader #stephen strange

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goldencherriess · 2 years

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Sentiment.

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Fem! Reader

Word count: 3.3k

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

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

Warnings: kinda office romance, fluff

Masterlist

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Cat got your tongue, Sherlock?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

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

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

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

Lestrade furrowed. "Then why are you blushing?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

''But the best!''

''At annoying me, maybe.''

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

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

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

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

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

She sneezed, eyes closing and eyelashes shining with raindrops.

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

She nodded before sneezing again.

''Bless you.''

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

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

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

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

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

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

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

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

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

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

''And you don't?''

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

''But you need the sleep.''

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

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

"If you take the meds."

"I will."

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I mean now."

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

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

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

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

"No." she replied, watching him.

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

She blinked. "Yes, but-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I believe the correct word would be modest."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What signs?" Y/N replied breathless.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he pressed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

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

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

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

"Usually."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I thought his name was Gavin."

"It's Greg."

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

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

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

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

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

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

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

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

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

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

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

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

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

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

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

"No."

Her eyebrows furrowed. "No?"

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

She felt her face flush. "Oh."

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

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

Bonus:

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

"How so?"

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

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

"Did she?"

"Yeah."

"Interesting."

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

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

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

Have a great day xx

Tag list: @bohemianrhapsody86 @andreead

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

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softestqueeen · 4 months

Text

misty mornings

pairing: sherlock holmes x reader feat. john watson and mrs. hudson

summary: When Sherlock Holmes awakes on his birthday, he doesn’t expect anyone to remember it. But of course, you do.

warnings: none, just some birthday fluff

wordcount: 968 words

a/n: Happy Birthday Sherlock Holmes! I think his birthday calls for some well deserved fluff and I had the idea for this while listening to the song "misty mornings" by travis bretzer, which is where the name for this fic comes from! This is also the first time I scheduled a post, so I hope this works and uploads properly, but we'll see! I'll stopp rambling now: Enjoy <3

It was one of the rare nights where Sherlock Holmes could actually get some sleep. He didn’t dream, which made awaking a lot more pleasurable, knowing his mind had actually gotten some rest. The only strange thing: when he awoke, you weren’t in his arms.

That was weird, normally you’re the one dragging him to bed and practically forcing him to sleep. He rolled over, but your side was cold to the touch, you must have been gone for some time. He looked at the digital alarm clock and it’s red shinning numbers illuminated the room with the time just behind the light. 7:30 a.m.

Mhmm.. strange. Normally you would be still fast asleep next to him. Slowly, he was getting worried. Did you go to work early? No, that’s impossible, it’s Saturday. You never worked on Saturdays, did you?

He spent a few more moments debating with himself on what to do now, when he suddenly heard noises and the fridge opening and closing again. At first he could only hear his old flatmate John (what the hell was he doing here?), but then he could hear you whisper yelling, probably at John. What were you discussing?

He looked at the alarm clock again, this time not for the time but for the date. Did he forget something?

Oh. It was his birthday! How could he forget?

The detective dreaded his birthday every year. He would get calls from his parents and random fans sent him letters, sometimes even flowers. He didn’t see the importance of his birthday. And even when John lived with him, he never celebrated his birthday.

But now that he was in a relationship with you, he thought things might change. You probably didn’t know when his birthday was, so he could maybe casually drop it in a conversation today. Maybe even take you out to celebrate, but more to use it as an excuse to spend more time with you.

But he would have more time to think about that later. For now, he would get up, see what you and John were up to (hopefully a new case) then do some thinking and maybe afterwards take you out. Sounds like a plan, doesn’t it?

He got up, put on a pair of plait pyjama trousers and his signature morning gown and opened the door that led to the rest of the flat.

But the sight that awaited him, was nothing he could have ever imagined.

There you were standing, still in your pyjamas, holding one of Sherlocks lighters. Next to you, John who was just putting a small cake on the table. Neither of you had noticed Sherlock yet, but it didn’t take long.

Once you did notice Sherlock standing in the doorway, a smile broke out on your face. You turned to John for a second to whisper something into his ear, whereupon John approached the detective, blocking his view of you for a second.

“How are you feeling today, Sherlock?”, John asked him with a smile on his face.

“What are you two up to?”, Sherlock shot back, visible confusion on his face.

“You’ll see in a sec.”, John answered, his smile now accompanied from a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Sherlock couldn’t react as quickly as John put the party hat on him. After his assault on Sherlock, he put one on himself. The consulting detective was still shocked and confused at what was happening.

John let him be and went back to his initial place next to you. Now Sherlock could see it all. You were wearing a hat as well and the cake was now adorned with three burning candles. You’re smile was brighter than the candles though and he got lost in your eyes for a moment.

He didn’t even know you knew when his birthday was, even though Sherlock had yours marked in his calendar.

Because of the short distraction, he didn’t realise that Mrs Hudson had come up to join the party as well and of course she also wore one of the colourful hats.

“Good, I came just in time.”, she said, beaming into the room. Apparently the group was now complete. At least he hoped it was, he couldn’t handle his brother or parents right now.

Now that everyone was here, you start to intone “Happy Birthday”. After the short serenade, Sherlock applauded the three of you, a smile forming on his lips. You walked up to him and pecked his lips. “Happy Birthday, Sherlock”, you whispered against them, before walking back to the cake.

“And now, blow out the candles and make a wish!”, you seemed more excited than him, but as long as it made you happy he’d do anything for you.

He made eye contact with everybody in the room, hoping he could tell them without words how grateful he was for this little surprise, before he went to the cake.

He thought about what to wish, but soon realized that he had everything he could ever need. He had you, a loving partner who always cared for him and waited for him when he came home, no matter what time. He had John, his best friend who always helped him and with whom he could talk about everything. He couldn’t forget about Mrs Hudson of course, who always had some advice for him and was almost like a mother for him. He had his brother, who was exactly how a big brother should be: annoying and unbearable. He even had Gevin? Gerald? Lestrade. He had Lestrade who was slowly becoming more than a colleague, a friend.

He had everything he could have ever imagined. So, he just closed his eyes and when he blew out the candles, he just wished for this to never end.

a/n: i hope you liked this, if so please leave some notes, likes, reblogs and comments! feedback is very appreciated!

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