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lazydoodlesandfanfic · 9 months

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Answer The Phone (Mycroft X Daughter!Reader) *PARENTAL

Characters: Mycroft X Daughter!Reader, Sherlock X Niece!Reader

Universe: Sherlock

Warnings: mentions of being drugged via gas (fun story, this happened to me once lol), bomb, explosion, burns, unhealthy relationship with parent

Request: Hello could you do mycroft x daughter reader. Final problem the two have really broken father and daughter relationship and they haven't express themselves and because of it sherlock is kinda the father figure of the reader. So instead of Sherlock doing the phonecall its the mycroft who did the phonecall and reader almost said 'I love you ' to mycroft but its time up and mycrift witness the explosion in reader apartment and the Holmes are broken as they heard the shrill scream coming from the reader. Its up to you if you wanna turn out to let reader died. 😊

It had been a long time since you had actually gotten along with your dad. A long time since tensions weren’t running high when in his presence, well aware that things were one thoughtless comment away from a bicker or an argument. Whether it was wanting something from one another- more affection from him, or a more agreeable personality from you- or just not agreeing on things in general. He often commented on how you were more like your uncle Sherlock, even when you were young. Back then you took it as a compliment, seeing your uncle as a genius who adored you and was by far the funnest uncle in the world, but in your pre-teens you realised he meant it as an insult.

You could never forgive him for doing that, even if he didn’t mean it, or didn’t even realise what he was saying. Everytime he said it, it made you pull away from him even more. Spend more time with the man he compared you to, the only person who seemed to actually care about you. Of course, that was until you met Mrs Hudson and then John moved in with Sherlock. Mrs Hudson kept you company when your uncle was busy and you were avoiding your dad, and she’d softly poke into your home life and your relationship with your dad and try and give advice. John thought you were Sherlock’s assistant for a short while before Sherlock corrected him, acting insulted that he thought you were ‘just an assistant’. When he met Mycroft, he immediately began to understand why you weren’t close, and tried to be a responsible adult you could turn to. In the end, when you became a legal adult, you moved to an apartment much, much closer to Sherlock than your dad, and never in the 3 years you’d had it, had your dad stepped foot inside of it. He wasn’t allowed to.

You had a lot of feelings towards your dad from childhood to now. Anger, resentment, distrust. A disconnect you never thought and come to accept could ever be fixed. Whenever you needed support, you went to Sherlock. John. Mrs Hudson. Never him. But this time was different.

You were currently trapped in the said apartment. The one place you were supposed to feel safe no matter what, yet here you were, eyes focussed on the bomb that had been planted in the middle of your living room, the heart of your apartment, with several wires linking to it all across the apartment like spiderwebs. Linked to every possible escape route- the windows, the fire escape, and the only door in and out. You didn’t remember what had happened- you vaguely remember an odd smell as you wet to sleep last night, and when you awoke, you found yourself laying on the floor of your living room, and sitting up and seeing the device. Whoever had done this, had been nice enough to leave your phone right beside the bomb. You didn’t call anyone or even turn the phone on for several hours, scared that it had been tampered with as well and that was also a trigger, but you grew desperate. The first person you tried to call was your dad. You didn’t get through, so then you called Sherlock, and he picked up almost immediately, and you told him what was going on.

That was about two hours ago now. The police cars littered the streets outside, the complex and surrounding buildings completely evacuated. It was just you and this bomb within a 50 foot radius. Well, for a period of time, both Sherlock and John were on the other side of the door, asking you a billion and one questions about what you could see, and you described everything to the best of your abilities, and it was useful. One, Sherlock was able to piece together it was well made, and whoever made this was an expert and had experience with this- probably a military man, working in a bomb squad or something, and that this was purely explosive, no nails or anything to cause more damage, and due the size, the blast wouldn’t go far past the walls of your home. However, after demanding his honesty, he admitted he also had no clue how to diffuse it, or if that was even possible. It seemed too fragile, that even a light breeze could set it off. That solidified your decision to remain perfectly still within two of the wires attached to your windows, too scared to even touch the glass or move to quickly, remembering his comment on a breeze, and didn’t want to risk vibration.

You still hadn’t been able to reach your dad.

“John?” You had asked over the phone. The phone was often being in call between people, mostly Sherlock and John, though Mrs Hudson had called when neither were available to try and keep you calm. It was John’s turn as Sherlock was following leads.

“Yeah? Is something happening?” John asked.

“No it’s just… I can’t reach my dad. I keep trying to call him but he won’t pick up… I… I just want to hear his voice.” You admitted. It sounded ridiculous, childish, but you were tired, hungry, and the adrenaline had drained your energy a while ago now. “Does he know what’s happening?” You asked. He was silent on his side for a minute.

“I don’t know, but I tell you what, I’m going to personally find him, and drag him here, and make him answer his phone, okay?” He promised, and you could hear the anger oozing over the phone, which you couldn’t help but smile at. “In the meantime, I think Sherlock is going to call you later, I think he’s onto something. Hang on, alright?” He said, before handing up. You placed the phone on the floor, carefully standing up, and with distance between yourself and the window, you peered out of it, able to see John as he dashed off towards Lestrade, telling him something, before the pair got into a car and took off presumably to go and find your dad. Looking around more, you spotted Mrs Hudson peering up. She waved when she saw you, and you waved back. With nothing else to do, you sat back down in front of the bomb, trying to examine it to the best of your ability, seeing nothing of importance, before you laid down on the floor, closing your eyes, and waiting.

You flinched when your phone rang. You flinched every time it rang, even if someone had told you just a minute prior it was coming. You reached over, picking it up and placing it to your ear, remembering what John had said. “Sherlock?” You asked.

“How many pieces of furniture in your flat can you crawl under?” His question was far from reassuring, as you bolted up, on high alert.

“U-Um, I don’t know, why? Do I need to hide? Take cover? What’s going on?” You panicked.

“The wiring to the bomb is far too fragile for someone to be able to rig it from the outside after escaping. They must have either found or made another way inside, somewhere where you wouldn’t have noticed. If we can find it you can get out yourself, or we can get inside. Think. Lay on the floor and look around for anything, furniture that you can get under, or furniture light enough but large enough to cover an escape but be able to move from below. Be. Careful. Watch the wires. Call me back if you find anything, I’m on my way back.” He said before hanging up, leaving you alone with silence and overwhelming pressure. You looked at the wires around you, before trying to think of the best places for someone to hide a hatch- under the coffee table, the recliner that you knew was easy to move, your wardrobe in your room which had some crawl space underneath, and for you, the most creepy- under your bed. You quickly checked under your coffee table in front of you, of course finding nothing, because of course that would be too easy. Your recliner was across from you, so after a deep breath, you got down on the ground, and carefully crawled under the wires, spotting a wire that was too low to crawl under, and you stood and carefully stepped over it. You then carefully moved your recliner, checking underneath, and found nothing. That left your bedroom.

Your phone rang again, and your cursed yourself, realising you left it beside the table, and you hurriedly but carefully moved back, grabbing it and answering it. “Hello? Sherlock?”

“Y/N?” Your dad’s voice caught you off guard, and you gasped in surprised. “What’s going on? John told me to call you and said it was dire.” He asked. A relief came over you just from hearing his voice, your eyes burning as you sniffed.

“Dad… it’s bad.” You started, getting silence on the phone. “There’s… someone put some sort of sedative gas into my flat when I went to bed and broke in- they moved me into the living room and- there’s a bomb. There’s a bomb in the living room and it’s wired up to every escape and I can’t get out and I’m scared and I don’t want to die-” You rambled to him before you heard him finally repeating your name to try and interrupt you.

“Y/N, Y/N, breathe. Is Sherlock working on it?” He asked, that last sentence sound a little distance, and you faintly heard John confirm in the background, before he returned to the phone. “Alright. Sherlock’s working on it. What has he told you?”

“He um… He said that he thinks there’s a secret entrance somewhere- and that’s how the person who did this escaped after rigging everything. He told me to look for it- I’m going to check in my bedroom next.” You explained to him, looking over, being relieved when you saw no wire attached to the door.

“Is that door rigged?”

“No. Hold on, I have to crawl under the wires.” You explained, getting back down, crawling under the wires, before reaching it the door, and holding the phone to your ear. “Okay, I’m at the door.”

“Do you feel like a secret agent?” He asked, catching you off guard.

“What?” You asked, pausing in your plan.

“Crawling under and over the wires. It’s like the laser lights and those agents avoiding them. You used to love those movies when you were little. You thought that was what Sherlock did in his cases.” He reminisced. A faint smile met your lips. You’d totally forgotten about that.

“Yeah… I remember one time when I pulled out all the red thread from a jumper you had gotten me, pinning it all over the house so I could pretend to be a secret agent and then using it to make an information board… you were so mad when you came back home because the jumper was some expensive brand and I’d made the board on a wall and wrote on it and everything… sorry about that.” You told him, somehow finding the energy to chuckle pathetically.

“Don’t apologise.” Mycroft told you. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. You were 6, you were just being a child.” He pointed out. “I’m… I’m also sorry that I didn’t answer your calls. I should have known something was wrong when you kept trying to reach me.” He apologised. You hummed, before you realised something.

“This is the first time we’ve been able to actually talk without bickering or arguing in years.” You pointed out. You heard him sigh.

“When this whole mess is over, I promise you we’re going to have a proper family dinner, catch up, and actually talk. No bickering. No arguing. A genuine conversation. How does that sound?” He asked. You smiled to yourself. This was the best thing that had happened all day, not like that was hard.

“Yeah. Let’s hope the escape is in my room.” You said, remembering your task. You reached out, grabbing the handle of your bedroom door, and opening it, and pulling the door open. “Hey, you know, despite not really getting along my whole life, I want you to know that I do love-” You looked up to search your room, but the sound of a beep made your eyes focus on the bomb attached to your bedframe, this one a lot bigger, that was rigged to your bedroom door, that you had just set off.

Mycroft heard you gasp, the sound of you running, hearing you muttering repeatedly ‘no, no, no, no”, the sound of you trying to open a door before the call ended. “Y/N?” Mycroft asked. He heard nothing. He tried calling you back, and it didn’t even ring. He got an awful feeling in his stomach and he wanted to be sick, but he looked up at John who looked confused at what was happening, having not heard what he’d heard. “Get me to her flat right now.”

By the time the pair arrived on your street, it was already blocked off and there was more than one firetruck trying to subdue the fire that was blazing where your flat used to be. Mycroft didn’t speak as he approached, seeing the sight, realising what it was exactly that he heard. He heard his daughter realise she triggered an explosive. He heard his daughter run across the one place she was meant to be safe to the front door. He heard his daughter try and open the door, and realise it was locked and she was trapped inside.

He heard his daughter die, terrified and alone. And for what? Why? Why not him, or Sherlock? He wanted to be angry, demand answers, find who did this and get revenge even if it isn’t lawful, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t find it in himself to be angry right now. Only guilty. He should have spent more time with you. He should have tried harder to be a better parent to you, he should have been kinder, more understanding. He should have been there.

“John! Mycroft!” Mycroft didn’t hear Mrs Hudson at first as she dashed over as quick as she could- she was sobbing and sniffling, clutching a handkerchief to her face as she approached.

“Mrs Hudson, what happened?!” John asked alarmed and out of breath.

“There was a second bomb in the bedroom, when she opened the door it set it off.” She explained. Mycroft finally looked away from the blaze to look at the woman. The call had ended only 20 minutes or so prior, and since the flat was still in fire, so there was no way to examine the scene.

“How do you know that?” He asked her. She didn’t say anything, simply grabbing his arm and pulling him down the street, pass the firetrucks, past the police who looked defeated, and towards an ambulance. The back doors were open, and inside he was able to see two paramedics tending to someone in the bed. He felt his heart leap into his throat as he sprinted to the edge and jumped inside, able to finally see your face, an oxygen mask over your face, burns littering your body, and you were unconscious as a paramedic was placing bandaging on one of your burns. “Is she okay? Is my daughter okay?” He demanded answers, one of the paramedics looking up at him.

“She’s suffered burns and blunt force trauma from the explosion. She was conscious when she was able to get out, but she fell unconscious, and we need to get her to the hospital now. Please sit down if you’re coming with her.” He instructed, and Mycroft followed and sat down. He turned, seeing John and Mrs Hudson stood, staring at you.

“Please make sure Sherlock finds out who did this. They need to pay for this.” Mycroft demanded. John nodded firmly, before the doors shut, the sirens turned on and the ambulance began to move. Mycroft put his whole focus on you, making sure your chest moved up and down, looking for any sign of you waking up, and more importantly, any sign you were in pain. He only saw you breathing, and he decided for now he should be thankful for that. He didn’t know what exactly he was going to do, but he knew that somehow, someway, he was going to fix this. He was going to make everything better. He had to.

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!

*Not my gif

TAGS: @holy-tea-cup-blog @sassy-specter @keenmarvellover @multifandomfix @sleutherclaw @otterly-fey @courtneychicken @graysonmalfoy @bellero @originalpottervengerlock @supernatural-pan @esoltis280 @lady-of-lies @lenaswritingandstuff @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980 @cdwmtjb8 @caswinchester2000 @determinedpines@huntheimpossible @automaticbakeryfreakshoe

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lokisrealpurpous · 5 months

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hiii ‼️‼️ i was wondering if i could request these two prompts:

“your eyes are really pretty up close.” and “you’re not okay, you’re shaking. what can i do? please, let me help you.” for loki ?

you absolutely don’t have to do both and can just take ur pick from the two also :)

ty 🫶🫶 !!

all I need is you

loki x female!reader

warnings: none really, fluff, reader gets ill from being out in a snowstorm

description

(y/n) and her todler, "Aroura Lokisdottir" go to the shop during a snow storm to get dinner and some snacks for a Christmas movie marathon. When they come out, the car has broke from being out in the frostbitten weathers leaving the only choice but for the two to walk home. Aroura was lucky to have her fathers Jotun genes however (y/n) wasn't as fortunate.

prompts:

"your eyes are really pretty up close"

"you're not okay, you're shaking. what can I do? please let me help you."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Loki had been at the compound all day leaving you with your little girl at home. The harsh winds gushed outside and the scene from the window was as white as a canvas, the heating was failing you as you sat huddled in blankets, 3 hot water bottles by your sides. Your jaw ached from chattering and goosebumps painted your pale, frozen skin.

"mama what's for dinner?"

a soft voice broke through the room.

"and remember it's movie night!"

aroura squealed as she ran up to my side, frantic hands attempting to climb the sofa that loomed over her tiny frame. You grabbed her from under her arms and she crawled onto your lap, kissing your foread as she giggled childishly.

"mama you's cold!"

she grabbed more blankets of the floor and chucked them onto the chair, then started to scrunch her nose

"a...achoo!"

as she sneezed her small character pained blue, her crimson eyes glowing in the dark room. It wasn't long before this first happened. You and loki has figured that as the weather grew colder every cough and sneeze switched Aroura into her frostgiant form, you found it absoloutly adorable having a mini ice cube running around the house from time to time. Loki worried of it, but loved his little Jotun to pieces.

You sat slowly up on the chair and then walked over to your daughter, lifting her onto your shoulders and using your magic to wrap her in a hat, scarf, coat and gloves, as some for yourself, and grabbed the keys before leaving the house. Aroura clung onto your hair as she giggled on your shoulders before you lifted her into her baby seat in the car, strapping her in securely then walking to get in the front.

The car faulted as you twisted the keys, but you shrugged it of, driving across the icey roads to the shop a few streets down.

Once you got out you were quick to get Aroura back on your shoulders, she was getting tired as she rested her head against the top of yours, her small hands wrapped around your hair and neck gently. She picked out her favourite snacks and threw them in the basket, and chose pizza and star chips for her dinner, which was the best dinner for an evening like this. (y/n) brought some lemon sip for her aching throat and stuffed nose and then walked to the till, placing aroura on the bench next to the bagging area.

She was eager to grab all the items, begging you to let her scan the doritos, which you did in the end give in to, then she helped take the bags to the car, in the end needing you to take it as she dragged the items across the frost coated floors.

When you were both finally settled in the car you let out a sigh of relief, but as you turned the keys to hear a screeching, unpleasant sound from the engine your head fell onto the horn.

"Mama what are you doing!"

Aroura shouted over the loud beeping noise, her fathers attitude twisted in her voice. However grew worried as she watched her mother run her hands through her hair anxiously, muttering as she kicked and hit the car.

"Blasted weather!"

You groaned, opening the door and getting attacked once again by the deadly weather that penetrated you to your bones.

"Come on angel, we gotta walk home"

you say in a gentle however exhausted tone, holding onto your daughters small hand in one hand and 3 bags of shopping in the other.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You slammed the door behind you, your little girl clinging onto your arm. The freezing wind had taken its toll on your body, but you mustered a smile for your daughter's sake. As you entered the warmth of home, your legs trembled with exhaustion. You tried to hide your growing weakness, not wanting to worry your precious girl. She giggled and kicked off her snow-covered boots, completely oblivious to your struggle.

You watched as she ran off to play, her laughter filling the room with joy. However, as you started preparing dinner, you couldn't ignore the worsening fever and flu symptoms that were taking a toll on your body. Your head throbbed, and a chill ran through your weakened frame. You glanced at the clock, hoping that your husband Loki would arrive soon, wanting to hold him tight and snuggle up to him in the warmth of your bed. You continued chopping vegetables, pushing through the discomfort, it was just a bit of cold.

As you continued to prepare dinner, a throbbing headache began to intensify, adding to your already weakened state. Just as you were starting to feel overwhelmed, you heard the familiar jingle of keys and the creaking of the front door. Relief washed over you as Loki entered the house, bringing in a gust of cold air. The chill served as a reminder of the harsh winter outside, but it also brought a sense of comfort knowing he was home.

"Hey there, sweetheart!"

Loki called out, his voice filled with warmth and affection. Aroura, who had been waiting eagerly for her fathers return, rushed into the hallway, her arms wrapping around his legs as he chuckled deeply

Loki made his way to the kitchen, his eyes full of concern as he noticed the fatigue etched on your face. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around you, knowing how much comfort you seemed from his embrace.

"I'm here, love. How was your day?"

he asked, his voice gently as he rocked your frozen body side to side, gently kissing your neck as you hummed in his arms.

"m.. the car broke at the shop.. m. me and aroura had to walk home and... c..cold."

You took a moment to lean into his comforting presence, grateful for his understanding.

"It's been a long day lo."

you replied, feeling a sense of solace in his arms.

Together, you and Loki finished preparing dinner, the aroma of the meal filling the house. As you all gathered around the table to enjoy the delicious food, you couldn't help but notice Loki's caring gaze on you, he looked worried yet loving, just wanting to make sure you were okay, in his own sweet way.

But in the midst of his gaze, our daughter couldn't resist having some fun. She started playing with her food, making silly faces and creating a mess. I couldn't help but laugh at the sight, trying to balance Loki's watchful eye on me while also keeping an eye on our mischievous little one.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Aroura had gone of to her room to read as you and loki tidied, you went to go wash the cutlery until some playful hands stoped you in your tracks, resting on you tense shoulders.

"Go prepare the movies pumpkin, I'll clean up."

loki hummed as he wrapped your in his jumper, going of to begin cleaning.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The clock next to the bed wrote "22:20" and you rested your head against the tall stack of pillows behind you. Loki had just gone to put Aroura into her crib who had just fallen asleep during the 4th movie, throughout the hours your body grew weaker and colder, loki rubbing you thigh with every sniffle and shiver thay escaped your ill form.

After Aroura was huddled up in blankets loki came back into our room and lifted your cold body, resting you in between his legs and kissing you forehead, wiping you teary eyes as he began to braid a few strands of your hair. You looked up at his gentle eyes.

"you're eyes are so pretty up close"

he whispered as he gazed back at you. Loki has always admired your eyes, a beautiful rainbow of pastels.

He couldn't do much to help your shivering state, being a frost giant, however he piled you in blankets and hot water bottles and had made you a lemon sip which sat on the beside table, he stroked you hair as your bead rested against his chest, every shake his heart ached.

"my love are you truly well"

he asked knowing the answer

you simply hummed in response, till shaking in his strong arms.

"you're not okay, you're shaking. what can I do? please let me help you."

he practically begged as he drowned you in affection and kisses.

"all I need is you"

you whispered, turning as you wrapped your arms around his waist, a hand on his chest beside you head, tangled around your lovers form.

"you'll always have me my darling.."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

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j-eryewrites · 4 months

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Happy Holidays!!

Happy Holidays to everyone! Thank you for supporting my fics and indulging my writing. I hope everyone is safe and has a pleasant holiday season. Much love from me - teigo-the-explorer

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bookloover35 · 10 months

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Sherlock Holmes x daughter reader-Mini Sherlock (2)

YN POV:

Watson: Sherlock, Lestrad just called me, they have found a new body. So you and Mini Sherlock can continue with the game later.

Watson said to me and Dad while we sat in our living room playing a game of chess. Ever since I told Watson the whole story of how I got the nickname Mini Sherlock, he and almost everyone in our circle of friends have started calling me that. I thought it was enough that only Dad and Lestrad called me that. People have started addressing me with Mini Sherlock other than my own real name.

Yn: I'm really starting to regret that I told you about my nickname.

I told him and got up from the armchair and before I put on my coat I moved one of my pieces and told my father.

Yn: Check Mate dad.

Sherlock:This time you were lucky daughter but next time your luck will end.

he said to me and got up then we both put on our coats and went down the stairs and took a taxi to the crime scene. The game is on.

(Jumpskip Christmas Eve.)

Yn: Dad, I do not understand how a human can break into the museum, shoot to death the security guard and then steal a painting for 10 million pounds, get out of there and do everything without triggering a single security alarm.

Sherlock: I do not know Yn I do not know. But I know one thing that we will succeed in resolving this case.

Mrs Hudson: Sherlock, Yn stop talking about the case now that it's Christmas Eve. Wait a minute I have an idea you can play a Christmas song for us.

Sherlock: Yes why not what do you say Mini Sherlock do you want to play a little duet with your dad.

Yn: I would love to.

I told him then we both took our violins and started playing We wish you a merry Christmas. In the background, I could hear Watson say to Mrs Hudson.

Watson:She really is Sherlock's daughter.

When he said that I could see a smile on my dad's lips and after we had finished playing and while everyone was cheering, I went up to dad and hugged him and said.

Yn: Merry Christmas Dad I love you.

I could hear Mrs Hudson say Awwww then I felt Dad how he hugged me back and gave me a kiss on the head and said back.

Sherlock: Merry Christmas my beloved daughter loves you too.

#wattpad #wattpadstories #wattpad story #my own words #bbc sherlock #bennedict cumberbatch sherlock #bbc sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes #sherlock x you #sherlock x reader #Sherlock x daughter reader

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hai-kbai · 9 months

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Please if u see this just give me FIC recs I NEED SOME GOOD FIC READING

Help out a fellow addict will you? Please? PLEASE

Ur fandom doesn't matter unless it's furry and incestuous and super dark shit just give me some breath taking FICS

Hurt, comfort, ANGSTY I DONT CARE

Edit: WHY DO U JUST LIKE THE POST?! SEND A REX GOD DAMMIT

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frost-queen · 2 years

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What we leave behind (Daughter!Reader x Sherlock Holmes)

Requested by: @mochystark Forever tag: @missmelodramatic, @theletterhart, @alex–awesome–22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly, @denkisclown, @automaticbakeryfreakshoe, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @october-leaves

Summary: Sherlock has two children (twins) when Reader goes off to college, leaves she everyone behind. A trail of lonliness darkens her twin brother. A deep wish turns the tables, leading him to follow in his father’s footsteps. At the holidays is reader over the moon to hear so.

“Alright, move a bit closer.” – said John, looking through the camera. You shuffled a bit closer to your father. Sherlock inhaled deep, throwing his arm around you. With one wide smile turned he forwards. He didn’t like posing but it was a special day, so he made an exception. John stuck his thumb up that the pose was perfect. The camera flashed as the picture got taken. Sherlock stepped aside as far out of the range of the camera angle. You turned your shoulder a bit more to John, posing cute. He laughed loud, taking the picture. Your brother was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed. – “Layton!” – you called him over. Layton was surprised for a moment.

“Come on! I can’t leave without a picture with my twin.” – laughed you out, hurrying him over. Layton grinned sheepishly, shuffling over to you. You moved the bags at your feet a bit aside, making room for him. You moved your arm around Layton when he came standing beside you. He was clearly a bit taller then you. First you took a formal picture, just standing beside each other. Then the funny poses came as Layton eased a bit up. He picked you up, holding you in his arms. Then a picture with you on his back and vice versa. That last picture got accompanied by a picture of both of you falling to the ground as you couldn’t carry Layton anymore.

Laughter swirled around apartment 221B. A knock on the door, made you all turn your head to it. A buzzing Misses Hudson entered, followed by Greg Lestrade, Molly Hooper, and Mycroft Holmes. – “Are we too late?” – asked she hastily. A sigh of relieve on her face at the sight of you. You smiled giddy, opening your arms to her when she welcomed you warmly. – “Misses Hudson!” – called you out, hugging her tightly. John and Sherlock greeted the rest, shaking a few hands. – “How about a group picture?” – suggested you, pulling away from the hug. Sherlock quirked his eyebrow up. – “Someone has to take the picture, isn’t it.” – pointed he out. – “I’ll do the dreadful task.” – answered Mycroft. – “No! uncle, I want everyone on the picture.” – you walked over to him, glaring a bit at him.

“No sneaking out of it!” – pointing slightly at him, wanted you, him to let you have this. He surrendered with a deep sigh. With a soft squeal, threw you, your arms around him. – “Too much, Y/n, too much.” – said he to you, retracting himself a bit from your affection. You snatched the camera from John’s hand, calling Layton over. Both of you whispered at each other, checking the camera. – “Which button was the timer again?” – Layton took the camera from you, looking closely at it. – “I think this one.” – He pressed the button, hearing a timer go off. Followed by a click as it accidently took a picture up close from him, upwards angle when the seconds had passed.

You laughed loud, taking the camera from him again. Stacking some books, you made a support for the camera. – “Come on everybody!”- called you out when no one moved. Swaying with you hand, motioned you for them to start moving. Layton took Misses Hudson’s gentle hand, taking her with him. Molly went after them, calling Sherlock and John over. You looked through the camera to see if everything would work out. You started counting heads, missing a few. – “Greg! Get over there.” – called you out. Greg pointed bluntly at himself. – “You...you want me on the picture?” – Sighing loud, nodded you. – “I did say everyone right!” – Greg hurried to the rest, coming to stand beside Molly, behind Layton and Misses Hudson. – “Uncle Mycroft!” – chimed you, fluttering with your eyelashes.

He rolled with his eyes, coming to stand beside Greg. Both of them shared a brief look, turning their heads away. – “Father, you need to stand a little closer to Layton.” – ordered you. So he did as you tried to squeeze everyone in the picture. When everything was in order, pressed you the timer. In high speed rushed you over to them, wondering where you should stand. The timer kept going off as you panicked. Sherlock wanted to create a gap for you to stand when you just bend a bit through your knee. Not standing in Misses Hudson her sight, opening your arms a bit. The picture was taken, anyone barely ready. You went for a second try. Rushing over to them, to give yourself a few extra seconds to get in place.

In your haste had you bumped against the books, the camera wobbling a bit. – “The camera!” – shouted John out in a panic. He leaped forwards, panic in his eyes. Meanwhile tripped you over your own feet. Everyone around you, ready to catch you as the picture was taken. A sideways picture of utter panic. That was your favorite picture. For the remaining hours, spend you time with everyone. It would be your first time away from home for college. Taking on the next step in your life. The sad part was you had to leave everything you loved behind. That was why you insisted on the pictures. John had gone out, wanting to develop them quickly for your departure.

A set of pictures for each and everyone. During your conversation with Molly, noticed you that Layton was quiet. He sat down, staring a bit lost at his cup of tea. Saying goodbye to Molly, went you over to him. Layton plastered on a smile at the sight of you. You weren’t sure yet if he putted the smile on for you or because he had to. – “You, okay?” – checked you in with him. Layton nodded softly. Nudging him against his knee, wanted you to hear these words clear. – “You know you can always talk to me. I might not be here for a while, but I’m not gone. There is a thing called phones that can be very helpful.”

Layton laughed loud. – “I won’t forget.” – responded he. – “I’ll always be there for you; you know that right.” – Layton exhaled soft when you ruffled your fingers through his hair. To everyone’s heartbreak was it time for you to leave. They all went downstairs with you. Sherlock stuffing your bags in the cab. – “I’ll miss you.” – you said to John, hugging him tight. – “I’ll be sure to give the first previews of the cases I post on my blog.” – whispered he. – “Please do.” – replied you, wanting to be included with your family. – “If anyone ever harasses you, call me.” – insisted Greg, acting out a phone near his ear. You smiled, hugging him. – “I’ll let them spend a few nights in jail.” – added he with a wistful smile. – “Uncle Mycroft?” – Mycroft had his arms crossed, barely looking at you. You stuck your hand out to him.

He glanced down to it, taking it with a tiny smile. – “Study hard!” – said he to encourage you. You were about to turn around when he mumbled a bit more. – “Stay safe.” – you heard it, smiling. You waved Molly and Misses Hudson goodbye. Your father was waiting by the cab. You held your hand out to Layton. He took it, walking with you to the car. Now when the moment was surreal, shed you some tears. Sherlock hugged you tightly. – “My clever, clever girl.” – breathed he out. He kissed your forehead with pain in his heart to watch you leave. Layton was saddened as well. You threw your arms around him, squeezing him to death. – “Call me… whenever you like.” – he nodded, opening the cab door to you.

You got in, Sherlock shutting the door. Rolling down the window, waved you at them. Your family, your friends. You were leaving them behind to pursue your dream. With a knot down your throat, blew you a thousand kisses at them. Hoping they wouldn’t forget about you in time. That they kept calling you every day no matter how annoying it might be. You would sure miss them all.

It took about a month for Layton to acknowledge the loneliness lurking inside of him. It started small. He would knock on your door, entering as he expected you to be in there. Reality struck him hard when he had to remind himself constantly that you weren’t there. He found himself talking to himself, sitting on your bed as if you were listening in. Distancing himself a bit from father. He was always busy with his cases, he had little time to figure out what Layton was feeling.

A gaping hole growing inside of him. A part of him missing. His entire life had he you around him. Twins, who never could be without the other. Now with you out of the house for college, felt he alone. Truly alone for the first time in his life. The darkness of loneliness and depression gripping tightly around his heart. Seeing father resolve so much work around his cases, made Layton wonder what it might be to be there. To help around, perhaps even assist. Yet he was too afraid to ask him.

One lonely night found Layton himself staring at the ceiling. You hadn’t heard from him in a while, so you decided to call him. His phone lit up, the light casting out the shadows in his dark room. Layton sat up straight, flicking the light on. When he saw it was you, curled he up a smile. Holding the phone in front of him, answered he the call. You popped onto his screen, looking a bit like a mess. – “God what is college doing to you Y/n?” – laughed he out, slipping a brotherly comment. You laughed mockingly, running your fingers through your hair. – “I didn’t get much sleep.” – answered you, wiping your cheeks a bit. Layton bit his lip, staring a bit lost away from the videocall.

“Everything alright at home? I…I haven’t heard from any of you for a while…” – started you, involving him back into the conversation. – “Father is busy with his cases.” – responded Layton, avoiding his own matters. – “And you?” – you came sitting a bit closer to the screen. – “I’m fine.” – lied Layton, avoiding eye contact. You hummed softly. – “Layton… look at me.” – insisted you. When your brother ignored you, demanded you it again. With an irritated sigh, looked he at you. Your expression softened, knowing how he felt. – “I’m sorry…” – said you.

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because you feel lonely, Layton! I feel like I have abandoned you.”

“I’ll get over it!”

You sighed deep, looking briefly away. – “Layton…I” – you weren’t sure how to put this, but you truly felt guilty. It never occurred to you what kind of impact you had on them. What you had left behind. Layton looked at you, seeing something in you as well. – “You are lonely too, aren’t you?” – you were a bit surprised by the question but nodded. The tears streaming down as he poked right through you. You had tried to stay strong for him, but he easily broke down that wall. Layton bit his lip in regret, seeing you cry. – “I didn’t think it would be so difficult.” – cried you out, wiping your cheeks dry.

“I miss home. I miss you; I miss father. I miss everything. When I heard nothing from you, I thought you didn’t think of me. That I was easily forgotten.” – Layton shook his head. – “Y/n, you are not forgotten. We think about you every day… or at least I do.” – you sniffed loud, wiping your tears away. – “What about father.” – suggested you. – “What about him.” – bit Layton back, annoyed. It took you a bit by the throat, hearing him speak so about your father. – “Why don’t you go on cases with him?”

Layton looked away, shy. – “I know it is something you always wanted. Why not ask him?” – Layton kept avoiding your pleading eyes. – “I don’t know.” – mumbled he out. – “Want me to talk to him?” – offered you, immediately being cut off by a loud ‘no!’. – “Alright, I know my place.” – giggled you out. A brief silence fell between the both of you. – “Promise me, you’ll try.” – said you. – “I hate to see you like this.” – Layton nodded, biting at his lip. – “Promise me too.” – responded he. – “Promise me you’ll enjoy college. Don’t let us hold you back.” – smiling, hummed you loud. – “Love you Layton.” – said you, blowing him a kiss.

Layton smiled a bit sheepishly. – “Love you too weirdo.” – answered he with a loud laugh. Both of you hung up, leaving an eerie silence around. Layton got up from his bed, walking out of his room. – “Y/n says hi.” – stated he, letting his father know. Sherlock’s head jerked up from behind the laptop. – “You… you spoke with Y/n?” – wanted he to know. Layton nodded, stepping over to the window. He pulled the curtain a bit aside, staring at the empty street below. – “How is she?” –

“Okay… could use a bit more sleep but okay.” – lied Layton. He knew it worry his father if he knew you missed home terribly. That you had been crying over the phone, feeling alone. Sherlock nodded softly, turning his gaze downwards again. When Layton kept staring out of the window, unfolded Sherlock his hands. He observed his son for a moment. Taking in his posture, his expression, his movement. – “Layton.” – began he, getting his attention. – “How…how would you feel about helping me out with my cases?” – Layton widened his eyes, staring hopeful at his father. – “Truly?” – called he out, his face lighting up. Sherlock smiled, seeing the positive change in him. – “Truly!” – repeated he. Layton rushed over to Sherlock, hugging him. – “Thank you, father, I promise I’ll do my best!”

So it was that Sherlock and his son solved cases with John. Layton became his apprentice, learning all the quirks of being a detective. He didn’t feel so lonely anymore and got to spend more time with his father. Sherlock finally understood how important it was to bond more with his family. He enjoyed it to have him around to teach.

***

Snow was falling down, sticking onto your eyelashes. With a relieving sigh, admired you apartment 221B. It felt good to be home. You had missed it so much. Thank God for Christmas so you could return. Not wanting to waste another moment, rushed you inside and upstairs. You burst into the apartment, surprising everyone. Sherlock stopped playing the violin, his mouth dropping. – “Y/n!” – exclaimed he, jumping up. He pushed his violin in John’s hands, rushing over to you.

He swept you off the ground, twirling with you in his embrace. – “My sweet girl is home!” – said he. He kissed every inch of your forehead, pleased to have you home again, even when it was just for the holidays. Before you had a breather, attacked Layton you with a hug. The moment he crashed into you, started you to cry. – “I’ve missed you.” – whispered he into your hair, tapping his hand on top of your head. – “I’ve missed you too, Layton.” – you broke away from the hug, greeting everyone else. – “Y/n!” – your attention got drawn to your father. He patted a seat beside him for you to sit down. You sat down, him coming to sit beside you. – “Tell me how college is?” – You laughed loud, slapping his knee. – “I rather hear stories about the two of you.” – your eyes drifted away to Layton.

“I heard you are his apprentice now?” – quirking your eyebrow, you couldn’t hide your smirk. Layton nodded proudly, coming to sit near you. – “Tell me all.” – asked you, listening with admiration at the both of them. You were over the moon proud at both of them. Layton flourished, his eyes sparkling when he told you about the cases he did with Sherlock. Sherlock smiling proudly. He took your hand, holding it. His little girl was home again, he didn’t want to let her slip through his fingers yet.

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antisocial-thing · 2 years

Text

And I'm not so smart [Part 2/?]

“Who is it?” a sharp and demanding voice left the question hanging in the thick air. Lestrade looked up tiredly from the mountain of papers scattered on his desk. He didn’t have time for this.

“You can’t just barge into my office like that. Besides, what the hell are you talking about?” Greg could feel the slight irritation making its way up into his head. Mallory was much easier to work with. She didn’t order them around so much. And she wasn’t trying to be a bloody smartass all the time.

“You know damn well what I’m talking about, the person that’s been stealing my cases for months now - who is it?” Sherlock Holmes wasn’t known for giving up easily. So it didn’t surprise the Detective Inspector that he wouldn’t leave the matter alone. However, it didn’t mean the Inspector was going to let him have his way. Not this time.

“Firstly, there is no one stealing any cases. Secondly, they aren’t your cases - they’re mine,” he sighed, trying to avoid Holmes’ gaze. The thought that it was completely useless caused him to rub his face with his hands. Nothing slipped through Sherlock's attention.

“Firstly, you’re lying. You just scratched your neck, and your eyebrow’s twitching. Secondly, even if they were yours, you wouldn’t solve half of them without my help, so I’ll ask once more. Who is it?”

“I cannot tell you, the said person values privacy. A lot,” the Inspector answered briefly, as he didn’t want to reveal too much information involuntarily which was quite possible in his state after a thirty-four-hour shift.

“I don’t care.” Sherlock didn’t seem to notice Greg’s hand tightening around the pen. That was why he didn’t expect the little outburst that followed.

“Well, I do!” a knowing, sneaky smile made its way on the genius’ face. That was what he needed. Emotions. Numerous gears turned in his head in a few seconds, giving him the right result.

“Oh, I’d say it’s a young girl. You wouldn’t care so much about a boy, and I would’ve noticed if you were romantically involved with someone recently. So who is this teenage girl? Tell me. I need to know.” Greg could see the detective's little obsession with the newfound subject of interest getting out of control. He couldn't stand the thought of someone being better than him at this job.

“No, Sherlock. I won’t give you any information. I promised I wouldn’t.” the decision was final, and the younger Holmes was sure of it.

“Why?” The only he could get at the moment was a reason.

“Let me quote her: You wouldn’t understand.”

Well, he certainly didn't expect that kind of a reason.

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A loud clang echoing through Mallory’s mind brutally woke her up from a slumber. She froze in great fear, not moving her body a single inch. You’re not there. You’re in your flat. She isn’t here. Frantically, her shaking hand reached the bedside lamp and turned it on. The familiar smell of sweat filled her nose. A moment later, a black hoodie was lying beside the trembling girl while she was trying to calm down, even though she knew there was no use.

She wasn’t fond of panic attacks. Everybody would share her opinion on that matter. Losing control of her own thoughts terrified her. Blurry vision, rapid breaths, uncontrollable tremors - all these symptoms accompanied her way too often. And she could do nothing about it. She was helpless, and she hated it.

Mallory tried to focus her mind elsewhere. Anywhere else would be better than the space stocked with unwanted memories. The strong scent of cigarettes and alcohol. The sound of vomiting and stumbling around the flat. The shouting, damp air, lack of light, hunger…

Stop.

You were supposed to think about something pleasant.

Music. It was what she needed. No matter what kind. It could distract her, at least, for a little while - that was until her racing brain zoned out. Of course, she could take a pill or two. However, she made a promise to never do that again. Music was also addictive but healthier.

Soon, small earphones helped her put her mind together again. She leaned her head against the creaky headboard, staring at the stained ceiling since the neighbours were highly irresponsible. A heavy sigh left her dry lips. She couldn’t go on like this. At the same time, she knew nobody would be able to help her. Nobody understood. That was the Holmes curse.

“Another shitty day,” she murmured, forcing herself to get out of bed.

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This has taken way too long.

#bbc sherlock holmes x reader #bbc sherlock #sherlock holmes x daughter!reader #sherlock holmes #sherlock x daughter!reader

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strangesthirdeye · 3 months

Text

Sherlock² (Sherlock bbc x Fem Sherlock! Reader)

Summary: When one stunned them, another was also stunned with them

Warning: It's Sherlock he's smart. Odd behavior, reader is Sherlock 2.0 but more weird, Dead body, awkwardness, fluff, shyness, explode, gruesome, reader personality based on Miss Sherlock from HBO, Dhani character is me.

As usual, I'm sorry if there are any wrong sentences or typos or grammatical mistakes, please forgive me and again English is not my first language, so I try to improve my language and writing in this way.

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"Edith Kingsley, 30 years old was found dead in his home with an explosion in his stomach. He was found by his maid this morning" Lestrade explained to Sherlock and John as they entered the morgue.

John nodded while Sherlock had no reaction but his eyes were focused on the two body bags on the table in front of him. Lestrade went to one of the body bags and looked at Sherlock and John.

"Now, I don't expect you two to be surprised by the condition of this body, but just a warning. The condition of this body is quite unpleasant judging by the impact of the explosion in his stomach, causing his stomach to have a big hole" Lestrade warned them both. His finger was already on the zipper of the bag.

"we've been through enough" Sherlock muttered.

John loosened his collar a little and nodded in agreement. Lestrade nodded, without hurrying unzipped the body bag. John and Lestrade were stunned as they laid their eyes on the contents of the body bag.

There lay a woman who was Sherlock's age with a dark brown trench coat while her hand was placed on her stomach. Her peaceful face made them confused. Lestrade let out a short breath.

"Y/n! " Lestrade snapped at the woman firmly.

The woman in question was startled and woke up. Her dull eyes looked around before falling on Lestrade. She let out a heavy sigh while smiling a little.

"Morning.. or should I say afternoon? or night?" You said then got up and sat down not taking your eyes off Lestrade.

"How many times have I told you not to sleep in a body bag? It's been 3 times you've done this. I swear to god, if anything happens to you, this body bag is what you'll put in" Lestrade massaged the bridge of his nose.

"Then you should put my name on this body bag because I can legally book this body bag" You scratched your head and let out a small yawn.

"For god's sake, Y/n. Get down now" Lestrade commanded you.

You groaned in protest and got out of the body bag and got off the table and patted and rubbed your dark brown trench coat to remove the wrinkles with both of your hands.

"What are you doing here, Y/n? Didn't I give you time off to recover your broken hand?" Lestrade said, tired of your behavior.

"My hand is okay, I came here to open the cement but I got distracted and was invited by myself to come in here" You said idly.

You still didn't notice the other two men who were with you as your focus was only on Lestrade. John and Sherlock seem to be observing your and Lestrade's conversation oddly. In their minds there is only one question which is 'who is this woman?'. Lestrade's situation around this woman is like a father scolding his daughter.

"Are you messing with the dead here?" Lestrade started to get panicked as he walked towards the other body bag. Body bag that contains a real corpse.

He unzipped the body bag and observed the body to find what you had done to the body but found nothing.

"seriously, a dead body with explosion marks in his stomach. Interesting tho, I just looked at his stomach contents but found this tiny chip in his stomach" you scratched your head and took out a pill bottle that contained chips from your trench coat pocket. Then you threw the pill bottle at Lestrade to which Lestrade was able to catch it.

Sherlock raised his eyebrows impressed with what you did.

"You can't just do anything to this corpse without permission" Lestrade argued.

"Molly said ok" You looked at Lestrade innocently.

"You-"

"Y/n!"

The three men looked at the source of the voice. There stood a woman wearing a white shirt with a cardigan outside and a tote bag in her hand. Her face holds a concerned face.

You turned and looked at your partner and smiled a little.

"Dhani, hey" you waved at her.

Dhani's worried face changed to furious and strode towards you quickly and pulled your shirt collar firmly and pulled you out of the morgue.

"You're not at home, you're not at Scotland Yard either. I've been looking for you everywhere, even I've been in here 3 times looking for you. You disappeared for two hours and you were suddenly in the morgue. Luckily I asked Molly, you know?!" Dhani scolded you as she walked out of the morgue leaving the three men there.

"I'm sleepy that's why I-" your voice argued getting fainter little by little.

Everything became silent as the chaos duo left from there leaving three grown men there with gawked faces, confused and done with everything. Various of emotions running through them.

John glanced at Lestrade. "who's that?" he pointed his thumbs to the exit.

Lestrade sighed tiredly. "Y/n L/n and Dhani Omens. Y/n is our new transfer DI while Dhani is just her partner same like John. Doctor plus writer."

"so we get two Sherlocks and two.. me?" John murmured.

"You could say that" Lestrade nodded and looked around. "Now, back to business. Sherlock, come here"

Sherlock who looked at the exit idly walked towards the real body bag. His mind began to wander with you. Where did you come from?

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"Listen, whatever you ask, don't ask her sensitive questions. She's just lost her husband so you better not ask her recklessly, understand?" Lestrade warned Sherlock.

Sherlock grunted and opened the conference room door. There you and Dhani sat facing the victim's wife who was sitting with a solemn face. Dhani looked concerned towards the middle-aged woman while you looked bored and sprawled on the chair. Your legs unconsciously push left and right to turn the wheeled office chair making you turn left and right partially.

Dhani noticed Lestrade enter the conference room, she then got up and greeted Lestrade.

"DI Lestrade, good afternoon" Dhani greeted him with a sweet smile.

"Doctor Omens, DI L/n" Lestrade nodded in return.

Sherlock and John then entered and looked around. Dhani noticed the two of them and greeted John first.

"Afternoon, Doctor Watson... I'm Dhani Omens.. So sorry about the burst I made earlier. She.. Y/n is always like that." Dhani looked down in shame.

John waving his hands, no problem sign. "no worries, Sherlock too, except sleeping in a body bag" John lightened up mood.

Dhani chuckled a little. Dhani then looked at Sherlock. "Mister Holmes" Dhani nodded in greeting.

Sherlock nodded without saying anything. He then looked at you with narrow eyes.

" it's liquid bomb and made into a pill. Known as Devil's foot. Highly explosive. Even the tiny explosion can make a large amount of explosion. The pill exploded inside his stomach and that's the cause of your husband death" you murmured idly.

The woman in grief cried when she heard what you said and held her chest as she breathed fast. Her maid (who found her dead husband) next to her held her shoulder and rubbed her back trying to calm her down.

John and Dhani looked concerned at the woman. They both understand how it feels to lose a loved one.

you smile tightly clearly you are annoyed with all this as Sherlock seems neutral with everything. Sherlock then took a seat next to you and sat facing the woman and the maid.

You glanced at Sherlock silently.

" Someone detonate the pill to explode it" Sherlock explained.

"Obviously" you added.

Lestrade stood next to you while crossing his arms. "We understand that you are in mourning now, but your husband may have enemies who are not satisfied with him."

You reached into Lestrade's jacket pocket quickly and fished something out of his jacket pocket. Lestrade scolded you. The pill bottle was taken out of the pocket and held by your hand. You held the pill bottle containing the chip in front of their eyes.

"This chip is used for bombing work. Someone who detonated it obviously knows about this" you stared at the chip longingly. And then you snapped and leaned forward with both hands crossed on the table. You support your head with your right hand while looking at the woman with a blank face.

"When did you last see your husband" You questioned.

The woman calmed down a bit and looked at you and Sherlock with a face stained with tears.

"this morning. He.. he looked fine this morning before I left for work. I don't know what he did after that. He was supposed to get ready to meet his assistant at his company but then he.. he said he didn't feeling good so he just sits at home" The woman wipes her cheeks with a handkerchief while sniffling.

Lestrade nodded in understanding. John and Dhani just kept silent and looked sympathetically at the woman.

"You're in the medical field too, right?" You wheeled the chair next to her. Your hands were placed on the table as you leaned your face towards her with steady eyes.

the woman looked down. Avoiding eye contact with you. "yes, I'm a pharmacist"

"So you're the one who suggested him to take medicine?"

"he is sick so of course he needs to take medicine"

You hummed. "Any kids?"

"No" she still looked at her lap.

"don't have any or don't want to have any?" you leaned closer.

The woman panicking again then she breathed fast as she held her chest. Panic attack. The maid rubbed her back with a concerned face.

Lestrade and Dhani pulled you away from her by pulling the wheeled office chair to Sherlock's side. You sprawled on the chair annoyed. Sherlock observed you. Making deductions about you. Anything he can read but he can't read your body language nor did his deduction work. He frowned.

'now this is interesting' Sherlock thought.

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"aren't you mad?" John walked by Sherlock's side.

Sherlock glanced at John in the corner of his eye. "about what?"

"DI L/n. She's taking your case. You usually don't let other people take your cases unless it's Mycroft's cases. What happened there? hmm. You always argue about cases." John looked up at his flatmate.

"I don't see any point in starting arguments" Sherlock replied coldly.

John nodded sarcastically. "i can see that. But usually even smart person in that room you always talk over them and point out your opinion but then when DI L/n talked, you let her talk"

"What are you trying to say, John" Sherlock retorted.

John chuckled sarcastically. "Seriously, you got this thingy just like when you can't read Irene Adler. You let her have her talk, she's outsmarted you and you become curious about her."

"She's smart, of course I let her have her talk" Sherlock blurted.

"no no, you don't understand. She's got you, isn't it? She's just like you and now you want to find out everything about her. You and her are no different, Sherlock. You guys are the same." John said while staring at Sherlock's side face.

"we're not the same, John. She's seeing things as a game and I see things as a challenge. Everything that's happening around me is always a challenge. I solve cases because I want to get rid of boredom and she solves cases because she wants to play. Now, can we stop this topic and get on with life" Sherlock fastening his walked.

"For God's sake, what I'm trying to elaborate is that you have feelings for her" John stated while chasing Sherlock from behind.

"We barely know each other, how come I have feelings for her. I only know her name" Sherlock grunted.

"you might not show it openly but you have your own way of showing it. She's stunned you with her wisdom and you let her stunned you. Isn't it obvious?" John concurred.

"no" Sherlock said simply without glancing at his flatmate.

John nodded off and let his friend be. He's tired of Sherlock antics. He knows that Sherlock is not very good when it comes to romance but he also knows that Sherlock is not good at showing his affection to others so he just shows it in his own way.

This is getting weirder than John ever thought.

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You and Dhani hurried up the stairs to the therapy room where all hell breaks loose. Futuba Yashiba, right now is pointing his gun towards his friend who distributed the pill bomb. You and Dhani find out after going to Futuba's girlfriend's house when you realize that Futuba is the one who caused the pill bomb to be created. And now, he who unconsciously swallowed the pill bomb after it was distributed by his friend wanted to take revenge on his friend before he exploded.

Thunderous footsteps were heard from the four legs below as you both rushed up the stairs to the therapy room on the 3rd floor.

As soon as you arrived in front of the therapy room, you burst into the room without thinking about anything and tackled Futuba to the floor. You hold him down while trying to grab the gun from his hand while Futuba struggles under you to let go. He cried out saying to let him kill his friend who right now was holding back the bleeding in his leg. Seems like Futuba already shot him.

Dhani already assisted Futuba's friend by trying to stop the bleeding. A few seconds later, Lestrade, Sherlock, John and two police officers entered and rushed towards you who managed to get the gun away from Futuba. While John rushed towards Dhani who is assist Futuba's friend.

"Y/n!" Lestrade shouted.

"Take him, Gwerk! " you breathed out.

"It's Greg" Lestrade remarked as he and two officers began to gather around you and take a hold of the crying Futuba. You got up and brushed your trench coat then remembered something.

"Stay away from him cause he had swallowed a pill bomb and at any moment he will explode!" you shouted and then covered your ears.

The police officers there then released Futuba and distanced themselves from him and took cover including Lestrade. Sherlock stepped in front of you unconsciously as he too took cover.

Everything is silent except the crying of Futuba who is still laying face down on the floor. His face stained with tears and snot waiting for his death to arrive but nothing happened. No explosion nor did his guts explode. He's safe. The culprit who controlled the bomb did not detonate it.

Sherlock looked at you who still covered both ears. He sighed in relief.

Lestrade looked at Futuba dumbfounded. "he's not exploding"

You uncovered your ears and looked at Futuba from behind Sherlock. "The culprit didn't press the button" you murmured.

"indeed" Sherlock added then looked at you worriedly. "alright?"

You stared at Sherlock with the same look. "fine, you?"

"good" Sherlock replied simply. You and him stared at each other without any care with the people in the room for a good 5 seconds before you both snapped back from reality.

You broke eye contact from Sherlock and rushed past him towards Futuba's friend who was still crying out in pain. You kneeled down and grabbed the collar of his shirt roughly and leaned your face against him with a firm face.

"Tell me where the heck did you get that pill bomb?! " you demanded rudely.

Futuba's friend just cried in fear while both hands held your hands that gripped his collar. Dhani and John held you trying to released your gripped from his collar while you shook Futuba's friend's body roughly.

Sherlock came and kneeled next to Dhani. "tell us where did you get that pill bomb, now" Sherlock commanded.

"I didn't see their faces. They wore black hoodies and just handed me the pill and told me to give it to Futuba saying it was just headache medicine" he cried out.

"Their voice, you said they told you to give him the pill. Tell me, is the voice you heard male or female?" Sherlock questioned.

"I can't hear them well because at that time we were in the club so the atmosphere there was very loud.. Their voice was muffled by the mask" he replied as he was still trying to free himself from your grip.

You released him and strode towards Futuba who was still lying facing the floor. His cries are still heard. You kneeled next to him and grabbed his shoulder then roughly you turned his body to face you.

Lestrade standby behind you in case you act out of control. Sherlock then got up and stood near you who was kneeling next to Futuba.

Futuba cried, his face stained with tears and snot when facing you. You scrunched your face in disgust.

"So you are the cause of all this happening. Tell me why you want to kill your own friend when he doesn't know anything about this? Tell me now!" you shook his head roughly.

Lestrade grabbed your shoulder and pulled you away from Futuba.

Futuba cried out while covering her face. "I killed her! with my own hands! I killed a little girl!"

Sherlock looked at Futuba with disgust while you looked at Futuba coldly. Now that's it.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"That little girl is yours, isn't it? Mrs. Kingsley?" you said as you rocked your body left and right.

Sherlock who is standing behind you looks narrowly at Mrs Kingsley wife of the dead husband. Mrs. Kingsley who was sitting on the sofa was stunned after hearing your accusation. She then looked down. Her eyes started to tear up so it was her body that started shaking.

You walked up to Mrs. Kingsley and bent down to see her tear soaked face. You smirk.

"She was killed by Futuba at the Supermarket a few months ago. And then-" you walked and stood next to Sherlock. "The mom seeking revenge for her daughter's death. She wants Futuba to die the same way Futuba stabbed her daughter in the abdomen. She then created pill bombs, not much but enough to kill the people involved." you looked at Mrs. Kingsley, smirking.

Sherlock opened his mouth after a long silence. "You killed your husband because he didn't care about your daughter's death, so when he's sick and sitting at home, that's your opportunity to give him that pill"

You took Mrs Kingsley's phone and pointed it at Mrs Kingsley with amusement. "and then you push the button when you think it's time"

"It's the same as Futuba only you didn't press the button. Something is holding you from pressing the button. Guilty? perhaps" Sherlock assumed.

Mrs. Kingsley stopped crying and raised her head to look at the two of them with newfound anger on her face. She then got up and tried to approach you while shouting.

"He really deserves to die! He killed my girl!" she yelled angrily as she approached you and tried to harm you but then Sherlock pulled your collar away from her.

You chuckled and let go of Sherlock's grip and rocked your body left and right as if doing a little victory dance while chuckling. Both hands in pockets.

"caught" you said amused.

Mrs. Kingsley's face started to turn red. "You don't understand what it feels like to lose someone you love. You have no feelings of pity at all. You are clearly just a human being who has no emotions and no compassion" She yelled at you insult after insult.

You covered your ears then put Mrs. Kingsley's phone on the table before you walked towards the couch near Sherlock and jumped a little, landing on the couch while closing your eyes trying to block out all the nonsense from her.

Mrs Kingsley threw another insult at Sherlock the same way she said to you. Sherlock kept his neutral face. He is used to people throwing insults at him.

And then she got enough with that and kept quiet and looked down at her lap with a solemn face.

"she was beautiful.. My girl.. she was so innocent and didn't know about the world yet. He killed my girl in front of me. I did try to find him after her death-" Mrs Kingsley looked up and looked at you both with somber face "And I met him. Laughing with his friends without a care in the world. Without a care that he had killed my daughter. So, I got the idea to make a pill bomb. But then, my husband knew about my grudge and added reasons for me to kill him first. I give him the pill and I detonate it" Mrs. Kingsley got up from her seat.

She slowly reached her phone and opened her phone screen with a solemn face. You opened your eyes and looked at Mrs. Kingsley skeptically while Sherlock seemed too follow her movement. Mrs. Kingsley's fingertips slide her phone while slowly smirking.

You widened your eyes after realizing something happened now and hopped off the sofa and rushed towards Mrs. Kingsley trying to stop her doing something gruesome.

"She swallowed-"

Mrs. Kingsley pushed the button from her phone screen and her guts exploded making blood splatter everywhere including your face stained with Mrs. Kingsley's blood. You were stunned with wide eyes when you saw Mrs. Kingsley's body fall to the floor.

Sherlock who witnessed the gruesome incident widened his eyes and rushed towards you.

"L/n" Sherlock called you in his hoarse voice.

You just stand in front of him. Didn't acknowledge Sherlock's presence. Your eyes stared at the fresh corpse on the floor. Both of your hands are clenched into fists, you then kneel on top of Mrs. Kingsley's body and pull her up by the collar. Mrs. Kingsley's head lolled upward. You shook her body as if trying to wake her up even though you knew she was gone.

Sherlock held your body by gripping both of your shoulders trying to release your grip from the body.

"I haven't finished questioning yet! why did you press that button?! why?!" you yelled while shaking Mrs. Kingsley's body hard.

"That's enough!" Sherlock shouted struggling to release you who was fuming angrily in his grip.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"alright?" Sherlock looked at your face that was clean of blood.

You snapped out of your reverie and looked at Sherlock. "fine, you?" You turned your gaze to the ambulance that was carrying Mrs. Kingsley's body into the ambulance.

"Good" Sherlock nodded and looked away from you.

Both of you fell in comfortable silence as the ambulance lights flashed in front of you just like the police car. Everything has become normal, the real culprit has been caught but it's too late to arrest her as she is brought into the ambulance to the hospital for an autopsy. Sherlock's mind started wandering with the argument he and John had before.

'you might not show it openly but you have your own way of showing it. She's stunned you with her wisdom and you let her stunned you. Isn't it obvious?' John's voice began to echo in his mind.

He didn't realize that. He might lack romance but he knows that he is unconsciously stunned by you and he lets you. He let you stunned him with your wisdom. He likes to be near you and hear your voice.

'Wow. What is this?' Sherlock thought with wide eyes. His face started to turn red. He's blushing. Sherlock Holmes is blushing over a woman he barely knows.

He turned his gaze on your side face. Now he sees how gorgeous you really are. He swallowed hard.

"Why didn't you talk much while solving this case, Holmes?" you suddenly asked.

Sherlock stiffened. He turned his attention to the cement floor. "You talk first, so I'll let you talk"

"why? I read in John's blog that you are the type to talk a lot, why suddenly you don't talk much? You know you are allowed to talk, right?" you stared at Sherlock.

Sherlock lost all the sentences and panic started to burn in his heart. His eyes darted around and stopped at a glimpse of you next to him. He let out a heavy breath.

"you stunned me" Sherlock said those three sentences lowly.

"Me?" you turned your body to face Sherlock.

"yes, you. Everything about you stunned me and I lost my words. Dammit, I've never been lost for words before, but you. You manage to make me lost for words and I let you do that. You make me curious about you. Everything about you is curious to me. My deduction can't work on you, I can't read you easily just like any other person I've encountered. You DI Y/n L/n make me question you to me" Sherlock breathed out.

You are stunned. Now that everything is placed where it originally was. Now you understand what it means. You smirked and walked over to Sherlock. You looked upon his face and Sherlock looked down at your face. The height difference is everything.

"We barely know each other and now you say that I stunned you?" you chuckled and palmed Sherlock's cheek with both of your hands. You rubbed both of his cheeks with your thumbs. "You stunned me too, Sherlock Holmes."

#sherlock reader insert #sherlock fanfic #bbc shows #benedict cumberbatch x reader #benedict cumberbatch #bbc sherlock #sherlock bbc #bbc sherlock imagine #bbc sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes imagine #sherlock holmes x reader #miss sherlock #i am sherlocked #bbc sherlock x you #sherlock holmes #Spotify

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freckles-things · 1 year

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Introduction / Masterlist

So, I guess it's finally time to introduce myself. It might be 7 years too late, but better late than never, right?

Julia | 25

Pan, so this blog is lgbtqi+ safe :)

This is my side blog, so I follow and like from @potterheadandsherlocked

I love writing, art and travelling. I also enjoy reading and appreciate photography and architecture.

I try to treat everyone I meet with kindness and respect, if you do decide to contact me, please do the same.

I am open to meeting new friends/mutuals and talking to others on a personal level. Please do not send unsolicited nsfw messages or content to me.

This blog might contain nsfw content, and is not suitable for users under the age of 18.

Asks: Go nuts! Question about my works? Yes! Request for a little drabble? Sure! Imagine requests? I will try, but I am a very slow writer. :’)

Fandoms I write for: Criminal Minds; NCIS; BBC Sherlock; BBC Merlin; Harry Potter; Good Omens; The Sandman; Enola Holmes; Bridgerton; Outlander; the Black magicians guild; Top Gun; Supernatural

I also write for celebrities as long as they haven't explicitly stated that they're uncomfortable with it. If in doubt just message me and I'll let you know if I know who the person is and if I will write for them.

The same goes for fandoms. If there's a fandom not listed here you can always just ask. Chances are that I might know the show/film/etc. and feel confident that I might be able to write for the requested characters. The above list is just an indication for the fandoms I'm definitely comfortable writing for.

Masterlist

Aaron Hotchner

Camera Roll Materpost

Criminal Minds

Losing the Shadows (Aaron Hotchner x reader) | part 1 | part 2

In the Eye of a Hurricane (daughter!reader)

Imagine Hotch comforting you (platonic)

Imagine embarassing Hotch in front of the team

Imagine giving Hotch a sassy answer

Imagine secretly dating Hotch and him always teasing you when the team is around

Imagine Hotch looking at you walking towards the altar

Signs of the Past (Aaron Hotchner x daughter!reader)

Derek Morgan

Of Dates and Cases

Imagine Derek calming you down (platonic)

Imagine being best friends with Derek and pranking Reid (platonic)

Something Domestic

Spencer Reid

Imagine having a nightmare and calling Reid (can be read as paring or platonic)

Imagine meeting Reid and going to be his best friend (platonic)

You are Weird | part 1 (platonic)

Imagine Reid trying to save you from an unsub

Imagine surprising Spencer on a hard day and giving him a backrub

Imagine Dating Reid

David Rossi

Imagine bickering with Rossi

BAU!Team

Out of Time (BAU!Team x reader) | part 1 | part 2 | part 3

Moodboards

Harry Potter

Severus Snape

Imagine duelling with Severus Snape

Draco Malfoy

The Beauty of your Smile (Draco Malfoy x reader)

Imagine Draco always sending you hidden messages

BBC Sherlock

James Moriarty

Imagine dating Moriarty

Sherlock Holmes

Sherlock stopping work at crime scenes to answer your text

Imagine Sherlock telling you that he loves you

Imagine being Sherlock's and John's roommate

Stolen Love (Sherlock Holmes x Reader)

Fantastic Beats

Imagine having a pet niffler

NCIS

Nightly Disturbance (Jenny Sherpard x Gibbs)

Anthony DiNozzo

Imagine being Tony's best friend and getting sassy with Gibbs (platonic)

Ziva David

Being best friends with Ziva would include

Abby Sciuto

Imagine Abby calling you in to help her with a computer problem to McGee's dismay (platonic)

The Joker

Imagine the Joker having a soft spot for you

Lucifer (TV)

Lucifer Morningstar

Rescued by the Devil

#introductory post #hi it’s me #criminal minds imagine #ncis imagine #sherlock holmes imagine #harry potter imagine #the joker imagine #imagines #lucifer imagine

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justsomerandomfanfic · 1 year

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Masterlist - 2023

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

𝓡𝓮𝓬𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓵𝔂 𝓤𝓹𝓵𝓸𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓭 𝓕𝓲𝓬𝓼:

Fanfic Friday 4/28/23

A Rose By Any Other Name - George Weasley X Female (Slytherin/Sirius Black Daughter) Reader; fluff, slight angst

Vet Bills - John Wick X Female (Vet) Reader; fluff, mini angst

Party Games - Steve Rogers X Loki Odinson; fluff, slight angst, Pocky Challenge

Chocolate Surprise - Loki Odinson X Thranduil; fluff

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Alphabetical List -- Updated on 4/28/23 (newly added George Weasley, John Wick, Steve X Loki, and Loki X Thranduil Fics above and below)

Italics = I have already made fanfics on this character if you wanna read them

↑ My Fanfic Masterlist is located on my page, or click here "X Reader Masterlist" Or click on the fandom titles below for the specific Masterlist and/or Character

For Requesting Rules, click here "Request Rules" You may request as many times as you like, as long as you stay along the lines of the said rules above

(Here is a list of songs for characters that inspire me! "Songs"

(Requests Are Open!)

DC | Gotham - Bane (Hardy), Bruce Wayne (Bale), Bruce Wayne (Keaton), Bruce Wayne (Pattinson), Bruce Wayne (Val), Edward Nygma (Carrey), Jack (Heath) Joker, Jason Todd, Jerome Valeska, Jervis Tetch (Gotham), Jonathan Crane (Gotham), Jonathan Crane (Murphy), Klarion Bleak, Maxwell Lord, Richard Grayson, Roman Sionis, Victor Zsasz

CR | Disney - Christopher Robin, Cruella de Vil, Ella (Cinderella 2015), Gaston LeGume (Beauty And The Beast 2017), Jasper Badun

Harry Potter - Cedric Diggory, Draco Malfoy, Fred Weasley, George Weasley, Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black, Severus Snape

Kingsman - Eggsy Unwin, Hamish Mycroft (Merlin), Harry Hart, Jack Daniels

Marvel | X-Men - Bruce Banner, Bucky Barnes, Charles Xavier, Eddie/Venom, Erik Killmonger, Everett Ross, Harry Osborn (TASM), Heimdall, Helmut Zemo, John Allerdyce, Johnny Storm, Kurt Wagner, Logan Howlett, Loki Odinson (Not the Series), M'Baku, Natasha Romanoff, Otto Octavius, Peter Maximoff, Peter Parker (Andrew), Peter Parker (Tobey), Peter Parker (Tom), Pietro Maximoff, Quentin Beck, Sam Wilson, Scott Lang, Shang-Chi, Steve Rogers, Thor Odinson, Tony Stark, Vision, Wade Wilson, Wanda Maximoff, Wenwu

Star Wars | The Mandalorian - Anakin Skywalker, Armitage Hux, Ben Solo/Kylo Ren, Din Djarin, Han Solo, Luke Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Rey

Stranger Things - Alexei Smirnoff, Billy Hargrove, Eddie Munson, Robin Buckey, Jim Hopper, Steve Harrington

The Hobbit / The Lord Of The Rings - Aragorn, Bilbo Baggins, Boromir, Dwalin, Elrond, Faramir, Fili, Kili, Haldir, Legolas Greenleaf, Pippin Took, Samwise Gamgee, Thorin Oakenshield, Thranduil

Pedro Pascal -

(Pedro Pascal Characters Masterlist) (Let me know if I should add any more)

Kingsman - Jack Daniels - Included/Merge Mansion - Tim Rockford/The Last Of Us - Joel Miller - Included/The Mandalorian - Din Djarin - Included/Wonder Woman 1984 - Maxwell Lord

Miscellaneous -

Assassin's Creed - Ezio Auditore da Firenze

Brothers Grimm - Jakob Grimm

BBC & Enola - Sherlock Holmes

Hell Boy - Red (Hellboy), Abe Sapien, and Agent John Myers

Encino Man - Linkavitch "Link" Chomofsky

George Of The Jungle - George

Ghostbusters (2016) - Jillian Holtzmann, Kevin Beckman

Indiana Jones - Indiana Jones

John Wick - John Wick

Jurassic Park - Ian Malcolm

Scooby Doo (2002) - Shaggy Rogers

The Last Of Us - Joel Miller

The Pirates Of The Caribbean - James Norrington, Hector Barbossa

The Phantom Of The Opera - Erik Destler

Uncharted 4 - Sam Drake, Rafe Adler

X-Files - Fox Mulder

(If you have any questions or suggestions, please feel free to let me know!)

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honeypiehotchnerlibrary · 1 year

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Welcome to the library 📚🤍

Turn post notifications for this blog on if you’d like to be notified when I post a new fic!

Hi, my name’s K! Make yourself at home xx.

My main blog is @honeypiehotchner and that’s where I post my fanfiction! I’ll reblog the fics here to keep track of them.

Anywho, here’s some links to my masterlists, most recent fics, etc.

Devil’s Backbone (Unsub!Hotch x Fem!Reader)

Currently updating every Wednesday and Friday until all of it is posted! It’s already finished in my drafts 😈

Main Masterlist (everything! Criminal Minds, Top Gun: Maverick, NCIS, MCU, BBC Sherlock)

Aaron Hotchner Masterlist (I write for him the most,,, I am so far up his ass)

Most recently: baby, please come home (one shot; beard!Hotch smut)

Will you be my Valentine? (one shot; pure fluff!)

Hangman Masterlist (I am also so far up this man’s ass but this one is more recent but just as bad)

Most recently: We Used To Be In Love (part four; dad!Hangman w/ high school sweetheart!reader & daughter Hangman didn’t know he had)

#honeypiehotchner #new tagging system!!#welcome to the library :))#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #jake hangman seresin #top gun maverick #top gun maverick fanfiction #hangman top gun #hangman x reader #aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader

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lokisrealpurpous · 5 months

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words hurt like a blade

pt2

part one here

father!loki x daughter!reader

warnings: sh, bullying,description of wounds and scars, mentions of suicidal thoughts ext.

description

when loki finds out his little girl isn't dealing with things well, falling into dangerous habits that he once did too, he does everything to try and look after her.

☆ please please do not read this if you find anything in the warnings list at all triggering, keep yourself safe and I'm always here if anyone needs me or just needs someone to message ☆

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It had been a few weeks since the accident, and loki hadn't been sleeping well at all. The thought of his little girl hurting herself and feeling so hopeless and scared twisted his stomach, he couldn't bare it. She was still in the healers room, bandages wrapped round both her colour drained yet swollen arms and pots and pots of medicines on the bedside desk. Her face was white and the dark bags under her eyes exposed her exhaustion, her hair was dreaded in uncountable knots and she was barley eating due to the sickness from the scene that repetivaly played out in flashbacks in her head, seeing the wounds open on her stained wrists and the blood that ran down her thighs.

y/ns eyes slowly blinked open, the light burning them. Straight away she felt the pounding in her head, black dots bouncing in the air as she swayed in her hospital bed.

"I'm sorry."

She mumbled over and over again.

"I'm sorry.. I'm sorry... I'm so-"

suddenly a large pair of arms wrapped around her waist, kissing her forehead and rocking her left and right.

"shhhhh angel."

loki whispered.

"I've messed it all up... I've... it wasn't you... I.... I'm sorry... dad i-"

She broke into sobs, the fear and sadness stealing her breath as she gasped through the tears. Lokis heart shattered into pieces, tears whelling in his eyes as he pushed himself onto the hospital bed, sitting I front of her with crossed legs, his hands taking hers and looking up at her.

"I love you princess... don't ever doubt that. I want.. I need you to talk to me.. to trust me. I've been here angel I have and.. I want you to have someone you can go to.. urges.. Relapse.. anything."

He practically begged as he kept her hands in a strong yet gentle embrace. She simply just nodded in reply.

"it's not the right way to deal with things sweetheart its not. It leaves scars and its so fucking dangerous I cant bare to loose you.. especially not like that."

He rolled up his sleve and her eyes widened.

"they scar more than you think.. if you take my word on how much you'll regret it in the future you'll save yourself a lifetime of doubt."

he chuckled softly kissing your forehead, then taking your hands again and looking you in the eyes.

"I love you."

"I love you more.."

"Imposible"

"Mm."

she scrambled into his embrace and hugged him tightly, wrapping around the blankets as she lay on his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her. He brushed soft strokes and began to hum your favourite asgardian melody from when you were little.

"om hjem

Men trærne de danser

Og fossene stanser

When she sings she sings come home

I stormsvarte fjell jeg vandrer alene

Over isbreen tar jeg meg frem

I eplehagen står møyen den vene

Og synger: når kommer du hjem?

Men trærne de danser

Og fossene stanser

Når hun synger, hun synger

Kom hjem

Men trærne de danser

Og fossene stanser

When she sings she sings come home

When she sings she sings come home"

He looked down to her sleeping form snuggled around him and smiled softly.

"I'll look after you angel"

He said before kissing her head and brushing a strand of hair out her face, then laying down to sleep himself.

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megs-mostly-past-random-fandoms · 2 years

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Babysitter

Based on this request: I was waiting for this. Reader is Sherlock’s girlfriend who is babysitting John’s daughter while the boys are gone. When they come back, they see Y/N singing Room Where It Happens from Hamilton while the baby sleeps This is my favorite song from the whole musical by @tagthetrekkie

Here you are, lovely! My apologies for the wait! As Disney is SUPER protective of their copyright, I could not put the full song in the fic. I’ve known writers that have had fics reported for using Disney songs and I didn’t want to risk that, However, I hope the fic itself makes up for that. *Familiar Characters are NEVER mine!*

Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)

Warnings: FLUFF!!!!!

Pairings/Characters: Sherlock x fem!reader, John Watson, Rosie Watson

When you became Sherlock's girlfriend(surprising everyone who knew you both), you didn't realize you'd also become a babysitter for little Rosie. Not that you minded. You had grown to love Rosie, but John and Sherlock were often gone for hours or even days at a time when working on a case. It did get a little lonely with just you and Rosie. However, you soon learned that the baby liked your singing voice and you took to singing whatever popped in your head at any given moment to her especially when it was time for her to sleep. Sometimes your choices were a bit odd given the situation. Like now.

You don't know why the Hamilton soundtrack popped in your head when it did. It wasn't like you'd listened to it recently. But of course, "Helpless" was pretty tame as far as lyrics went so you decided to sing it for little Rosie while she finished eating. Then, "Burn" as you were putting her down for the night. She fell asleep listening to your voice filling the flat. After getting her settled in, you left her room to do the daily cleaning.

As you tidied up, you continued singing. At one point, you used the dish brush as a microphone. Quietly, of course. You didn't want to wake Rosie. She was a pain to get back to sleep like most babies and toddlers. So you cleaned the kitchen before moving on to tidy the living room. As you picked up Rosie's various toys, you started singing "Room Where it Happened." It was really one of your favorite songs in the show and it took everything in you not to belt it out. However, that didn't stop you from dancing around with the broom as you swept. You didn't count on having an audience. You sang, "I wanna be in the room where it happened, the room where it happened, the room-"

You nearly screamed when you turned around to see Sherlock standing there with John. Sherlock looked slightly amused at your embarrassment while John made it no secret that he was laughing. "Oh, shut it," you mumbled. John merely laughed again before carefully picking up Rosie to take her home. Sherlock put his arms around your shoulders while you continued to grumble. You weren't upset, just embarrassed. Sherlock was NEVER meant to see that side of you. You had no idea that seeing you that way had sparked thoughts in Sherlock he never thought possible.

Sherlock's POV

Seeing you so at ease in his home brought unbidden thoughts of domestic life to Sherlock's brain. Without meaning to, his mind conjured up images of you dancing with his child in your arms. Of coming home to the smell of supper waiting, whether home-cooked or not. Of quiet evenings together. Of you being there to bounce ideas off when he got stuck on a case. Of listening to you singing or debating something with Mycroft, who actually got on with you fairly well.

Sherlock could easily picture waking up every morning to see you next to him. He could see you standing in the kitchen in one of his shirts. That brought a whole new set of thoughts that he would deal with later. Sherlock never believed he would find the idea of domestic bliss worthwhile. After all, he had his cases. That was enough for him. At least until you.

"And what is troubling the mind of the my favorite high-functioning sociopath now, hmm?" you asked as the door closed behind John and Rosie. Sherlock gave you a tired smile that he was certain you weren't surprised by. He hardly ate or slept during cases so his body was telling him to take care of himself now.

"Sleep or food first?" you asked, already knowing the answer. Sherlock watched for a brief moment as you made your way to his bedroom. While you stayed at the flat most of the time, you insisted on separate bedrooms in case one or both of you needed space. Plus you knew of Sherlock's reluctance about physical contact sometimes and you respected that. Tonight though, it seemed you could read his mind and knew he wanted to be near you.

The case had been a rough one so when you moved to leave the room after getting the bed ready for him, Sherlock grabbed hold of your wrist. You glanced at him and he hoped his eyes conveyed the words his mouth would not let him say aloud. Without a word, you climbed in the bed next to him and waited. Sherlock had no idea how you had so much patience for him when no one else did, not even John or Sherlock's own family.

As soon as you were comfortable, Sherlock practically wrapped around you, his head resting on your chest and his long limbs tangling with yours. Your fingers began carding through his dark curls. Your actions gave Sherlock a feeling he wasn't at all used to without the use of drugs. Peace. He soon felt his eyes falling shutting as sleep began to take hold. The consulting detective entered the land of dreams to the sound of your humming as the melody to "The Room Where it Happened" filled the room.

(a/n: I hope you like it! Tag lists are open!)

#bbc sherlock #sherlock holmes #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock x reader

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frostandflamesfanfic · 2 years

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The Last Three Years (Sherlock x Reader) - Chapter 2

| | Masterlist | |

Chapter 2: Hurts Like Hell

“I loved and I loved and I lost you…and it hurts like hell…” -Fleurie (Hurts Like Hell)

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes (BBC) x Watson!Reader

Word Count: 3.2k+

Warnings: MAJOR Trigger Warning in this chapter involving ideation/harmful-for-self thoughts, drug addiction, and mental health. Depictions of these scenarios also may not be accurate.

Summary: Everyone has their demons. Months after Sherlock had left you, your demons had risen to the surface. With nothing else left to lose, will you cave into the temptations flooding your brain?

It had been ten months, three weeks, five days, eight hours, and twenty minutes since the phone call. Five more minutes since the impact. Every day since then has haunted you like a nightmare that you could never wake up from. The other night, you thought you had heard his voice in the halls. You had fallen asleep watching old videos of his previous cases. Even if the content was old, you didn’t care. The magic of the media had brought him back to you in even the slightest and you were desperate enough to cling to whatever was left of him.

You would always do your best to wander around living in your false reality for as long as possible. The voices you heard were him with a client. He was getting bored with the details and would be downstairs later to complain about their stupidity.

“Honestly,” he’d say. “How could someone be so stupid? The answer is so obvious that even you could solve it.”

You would then give him a look that would make him falter and backtrack.

“No, no, no. Everyone’s stupid, don’t take it personally. I just meant that you’d—” Another glare. “Er, that Anderson would be able to solve it with one look.”

The most difficult part was how as soon as you would allow yourself to get sucked into your little fantasy, you would need to force yourself to realise the whole situation was only in your mind. The warm feeling of having someone to talk to had faded. The flat had become a desolate and dark place once more. Sherlock was dead and you were left alone in your flat.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

For weeks since his death, Lestrade had done his best to look the other way- to avoid the fact the younger Holmes daughter was alive. You had made him promise to keep her safe from arrest. . .for Sherlock’s sake. Yet as time went on, Elora started not trusting her own actions. You would find her in a random location, with her having no recollection over how or why she was there. As the weeks went on, scabs would appear on her arms and legs out of nowhere. It was around this point you began to be concerned about her flatmate’s safety. She didn’t want to send her away, but she couldn’t bear it if one day she woke up and was too late to stop something far more dangerous.

Soon after her outburst, Elora had made the decision to leave Baker Street. The day the two of you had finished packing up the last few boxes for Elora’s new life, you felt as though you were staring up at the rooftop again. The world around you sounded tinny and you felt every step become more difficult.

“You’re sure about this?” you whispered to your friend. It was one of the rare times you could remember seeing any hint of emotion etched into the younger Holmes’ facial features. There wasn’t much that could make her crack, you knew that. Sherlock’s death had hit her the worst of all and while it pained you to see her go, you were proud of her all the same.

Elora gave you an apologetic glance as she hoisted a moving box into her arms. “I have no other choice,” she replied. “I don’t want to hurt you. Not any more than either of us have been, anyway. There’s just too many memories here.” When you opened your mouth to refute, your friend raised her hand. “It’s not just you. It’s everything. It reminds me too much of my brother and how I failed him.” She reached over to grip her flatmate’s hand. “It won’t be for long. Just until I can feel more confident that what I’m doing is actually me.”

Tearing up, you pulled her into a tight hug. “I’m going to be waiting to help you move back home whenever you’re ready. You just call me and tell me when. I’ll be there. I promise.”

“I‘ll be there,” you muttered tiredly to yourself nine months later. You clenched your fists into tight balls. Taking a deep breath, you took in the bitterly cold London air. “It’s been nine months.”

What neither of you had taken into account that day was just how bad Elora’s condition truly was. The longer she was away from the rest of the world, the more she began to break. The hallucinations kept coming. Whenever you would visit her, she would appear more and more distant. She did her best to keep up the interactions, but one day, the calls and text messages suddenly ceased. One night, you received a phone call. The doctors had told you something had triggered Elora, but they couldn’t pinpoint just what it was. Doctor Morrison had recommended that you refrain from visiting your friend’s new flat for a while.

“If we don’t know what’s causing it,” he said. “We can’t help her. The only lead we have so far is. . .you.”

Months later, the nightmares started to take hold of you too. You found yourself in a cold sweat one night. Your heart raced a thousand miles per second...and you didn’t know why. A few days later, you found yourself waking up screaming a name-- his name. It was almost as if he was taking over your every thought. You saw him in the shops’ magazines and papers. You heard his music over the radio.

It wasn’t long before it just became noise in your mind -- noise that you couldn’t drown out. You tried to quiet the voices like normal, you really did. You tried music. You slept with the television on max volume. Nothing helped. It wasn’t until you found the bottles in Elora’s room that you could press the mute button on your thoughts. Pop one, take a drink, silence after fifteen minutes. The only problem you started to face was the six hours every night wasn’t enough.

You needed more.

Whenever the voices even began to start, you took another pill. Just one more, became two, which turned into three. Each month, the dose got stronger and voices went quiet. You still couldn’t get enough. At this point, you were in far too deep. You didn’t even want to bother getting help. In fact, you relished in the euphoric feeling and the mind-numbing high. It was your escape and you never wanted it to end.

When the pills ran out, you headed to the first therapist you could find. Thanks to your already broken state, it hadn’t taken much for you to get another prescription. The problem was that the dosage would never be enough. You would wake in the middle of the night in pain. It wouldn’t be a normal pain— there wasn’t a part of your body that was physically in pain. Still, your insides twisted and turned as you continued with your restless sleep. What you wouldn’t give for a night of blissful nothingness; to fall asleep. . .and just not wake up.

He had somehow worked his way into your dreams now. Most nights, it was the same horror as that day: you would be on the ground calling out to him and he’d be gone minutes later. Sometimes your brain took enjoyment in torturing and watching you suffer. It would create this fantasy world where you could finally be happy. Late nights by the fireplace, curled up in each other. Breakfast in the morning without worrying about eyeballs in the teacups. In another world, you had a family of your very own.

You were in the living room of 221B, now home to the both of you. It was a cold December evening and the fireplace crackled in front of you. To anyone else, it would have been a normal scene. But to you, it was something you could only imagined.

“She’s beautiful,” Sherlock murmured, as he cradled the newborn bundle in his arms.

“She has your hair and eyes,” you replied.

“Nonsense.” A frown spread across his face. “Babies have no defining features until six months. She could just as easily have your eyes and hair.” However, a smile threatened to replace his grumpy demeanour as he stared at the bundle— his daughter. “Balance of probability suggests that she-”

The bundle began to cry and you reached over to pull her into your lap. “Shh,” you soothed. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. We’re right here.”

Yet, the little babe continued to cry and howl. Anything you attempted to do to soothe her failed. When you looked up to find Sherlock, you watched in horror as his figure vanished in smoke and left you staring at the reflection in the mirror. “Sherlock,” you whispered. “No.” At that moment, your daughter shrieked and cried out. In another attempt to soothe her, you plastered a fake smile and turned your attention back to the precious bundle. What you saw made your heart stop.

In your arms, squirmed a small version of Jim Moriarty. His face dripped with blood as it morphed into a dark grin. “Tick tock,” he spat out. “The Watsons ran up the clock. The clock struck five, the Watsons cried. They couldn’t save poor Sherlock.”

“No- no please,” you pleaded. “Just let me have them back. I just want my family back. Please.”

“No can do,” mini-Moriarty said with a grin. “You know what you have to do to get him back. Why haven’t you done it yet?”

You bit your lip, eyes squeezing closed as tears spilled out. “Please. I’ll do anything. Just bring them back to me, please.”

Moriarty rolled his eyes. “Oh, please, not the waterworks. Ordinary people like you are so predictably boring.” He stared at you as the blood dripped off of his face onto the baby blanket. “You know what you have to do. Just do it.”

“Do it.” A feeling of something sticky ran down your forehead. When you dared press a hand to the area, you gasped in fear as felt a liquid sensation. Pulling your hand back, you saw it was covered in rich, deep red blood.

A plume of smoke enveloped you and soon you were surrounded by the pale versions of those you loved. John grabbed your arm and started to drag you, Elora joining in soon after. “You want to join us? Do it,” they both spoke in Moriarty’s voice.

Unsure of what else to do, you bolted until you saw the tall dark outline of a peacoat with the collar popped. “Sherlock,” you pleaded. “Help me. Save me. I need you.”

The figure standing in front of you didn’t move.

“Sherlock, please,” you pleaded again. “Help. I can’t do it without you.”

Slowly, the figure turned around to face you. Sherlock’s blue-green eyes pierced into your soul as he spoke, his tone sharp as knives. “Then die. Just let go and die. There’s obviously nothing here for you anymore. Why live?”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The day before, you had made a visit to his grave. Originally, you had planned to visit every other day, but it just became too much for you to handle. You needed to come to terms with what had happened. The only problem you were facing was that you simply couldn’t let go of the fact that he had left you forever.

As you approached the headstone, you noticed another figure standing near it. Not wanting to intrude, you silently crept closer. John was standing by the grave, eyes fixated on the metallic lettering. His fingers rested on the smooth black marble. “I was so alone, and I owe you so much,” you heard him mutter. “You brought my family back to me. Y’gave me a reason to...to want to be a better person.” You heard him sniffle and heave a heavy sigh. “Doing a real bang-up job at that right now, aren’t I? Now they’re both alone dealing with your decision while I swam out to catch my breath.”

John tapped the top of the headstone as a form of reassurance. He was attempting to collect himself, you could tell. “Okay,” he muttered. A moment later, he began to turn and make his way back toward the entrance. You were pressed against a nearby tree in order to avoid being spotted. However, he turned back to the headstone one more time. “No, please, there’s just one more thing, mate, one more thing: one more miracle, Sherlock, for me. And for Elora, and…” his voice broke as he continued. “Don’t. Be. Dead. Would you do that? Just for me, just stop it. Stop this.”

With a curt nod, John made his way back to the car and drove off. You were now the only person around for miles. Truth be told, you were partly grateful for it, as you weren’t sure you could do this without breaking down. However, you did wish there was someone who would try something to stop you. You knelt down by the headstone with suppressed tears. “Hey, Curly,” you tried to sound cheerful. “It’s a year tomorrow. Can you believe it?”

Your gloved fingers gently traced the gold lettering of his name on the headstone. It was cold in the early London morning air. The flowers you had brought the previous weeks had already wilted and the blood red petals were crushed. Using a trembling hand, you brushed the petals away in an attempt to clean his grave. “Always so messy,” you remarked with a dry chuckle. “Even dead you can’t help but make a mess.” You looked down at the headstone with a sad smile. “You’d be pleased to know I haven’t touched your flat. It’s as messy as ever. Don’t know how you ever knew where everything was, but you always did. You always...did.”

You reached into your coat pockets to pull out a handful of pill bottles and a small photograph. “I can’t do it anymore, Sherlock,” you whispered. “It’s just become too much. As much as I bloody hate to admit it, you really screwed me over, Sherlock Holmes. The minute you walked into my life, I should have run the other way and not looked back. But I stayed anyway.” Your head leaned forward against the cold marble and you squeezed your eyes shut again while you laughed. “You bastard. Who would have thought that I would have wanted- that I hoped... with an emotionless basket case. Wait, no. You wouldn’t like that. High-functioning sociopath.

“I just miss you so much. I can’t take waking up in the empty flat anymore. You’re gone. John is gone. Elora is holed up trying to come back. I’m...I’m falling apart. I’m drowning while I’m walking and I can’t breathe. I know I should be able to move on and stay strong. But damn it, Sherlock, I don't want to carry on like everything is fine. It just isn’t.”

You couldn’t afford to hold back the tears anymore. You let them flow and flow until you are hiccuping for air. “I’m so sorry, Sherlock,” you whispered as you buried the items next to the headstone. “I just can’t do it anymore. Not by myself.” Your eyes flickered over to the empty plot nearby.

You and Elora had made the purchase of the area shortly after the funeral. The two of you had agreed he didn’t deserve to be buried like when he was alive- alone. Upon making the deposit, a deal was made that whoever would pass on first would be the one to take the spot. You just hoped Elora wouldn’t mind losing the race…

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Every step you took felt heavier and heavier the higher up you went. You felt terrible lying to Molly about the real reason you had for stopping by. It was the only way you could guarantee you wouldn’t chicken out. You needed to make sure there was nothing to hold you back. You had already mailed a letter to John and left one on the coffee table for Elora. They would be sad, but they would understand. You were sure of it.

The door to the rooftop was much heavier than you remembered. Although, last year, you ran primarily off of the adrenaline and grief. Your whole body shook as you peered over the edge down at the ground below. People were making their way through town. Some headed back to work for a late shift, others home to their families. Their perfect little families...

It was almost ironic you were standing on the very spot he did. Was it dramatic? Of course. However, being around Holmes' for so long would cause a desire for a flair of it in even the most logical of people. Maybe you had hoped this spot would bring you closer to him. Wasn’t there a study that indicated those who died near each other were destined to reunite? That sounded about right. Or maybe...maybe it was just sentiment.

He always mocked you for the attachment you had to sentiment. “A chemical defect,” he would call it. It could never be used to one’s advantage— only their downfall. You gave a dry chuckle to the memory. How fitting.

“You have given me something that I can't live without, Sherlock,” you whispered after taking a deep breath. “I can’t ever forgive you for this, but hopefully I’ll get to see you again.” You took a step up onto the ledge and closed your eyes. Without opening them, you lifted your mobile to your ear.

“You’ve reached the personal number of Sherlock Holmes,” his deep voice worked its way into your ear. “List the details of your case and I’ll contact you at my earliest convenience...or not.”

The sound of a beep caused you to take a shaky breath, jarring you from a fantasy world your brain had escaped to for a moment. “I suppose it’s only fair for me to do this,” you whispered into the microphone. “It’s what...people do, right? Leave a note?” A sad chuckle was let out at the last part. “That’s how you did it. I know you’ll never hear this and that’s fine. I just...I just needed to hear your voice one last time.

“I’m so sorry, Sherlock, but you can’t convince me otherwise of your actions. You may have been an arrogant arsehole, but you weren’t a monster. There was no way you could have created Moriarty for shits and giggles. I saw how he affected you. No man could hold up that act forever, especially not you. You may have been a jerk, but you cared. About Elora, John...hopefully me?” You brushed away a few tears. “I know there’s only a few seconds left on the machine, so I’ll make it quick.” Tears began to trickle down your face. “I love you, Sherlock Holmes. I believe in you, even if the rest of the world doesn’t.

“Goodbye, love,” your voice dropped down to a whisper as you hung up the phone. You cradled it in your hands for a few moments before pressing it against your heart. This was the best for all of them. All you needed to do was put your arms out and just...fall. In a matter of minutes, you would be letting gravity take its hold on your already heavy heart and free you spirit. It would all be over and you could finally be free.

You clenched the phone in your fist and took a deep breath. One foot at a time, you made your way a bit further along the ledge. You leaned a bit forward. . .

. . .a little bit more. . .

Just one more lean and you would finally be free. As you lifted your foot over the edge, the phone in your hand began to vibrate.

It was a call from an unknown number.

==============================

Author’s Note: Woww, what a cliffhanger, huh?! If I’m being entirely honest here, the end of this chapter hurt like hell to write (bad pun I know lol). I know it may seem stereotypical tale for a Sherlock S/O to have during the Reichenbach hiatus, but I assure you there are more reasons behind this mental state than just Sherlock (mainly relating to the upcoming backstory). On another note, Moriarty is probably one of my favorite characters to write for just because his dialogue is so much fun to write…you never know what’ll come out of that mouth of his!

As usual, if you liked the chapter, make sure to leave a like, comment, and a cheeky reblog. Not only will it help me out with sharing the story, but it also lets me know what content from me you enjoy! In the meantime, leave your theories on who the mystery number is and I'll see you next week! :D

SH Taglist: @ohchoices, @severuined

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