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Irreverence - General Hux x Reader

Requests: - Hey! Could you please write a Hux x reader? Something about how they're similar ranks but in different sectors and he's trying to tell reader how to do their job and their like 'bitch please'. I just need some Hux angst, my dude. Thank you!!

-Omg engaging Hux in a snark-off. Who can be the sassiest.

Word count: 1223

Warnings: do sarcasm and sassiness count?

You respected General Hux, you really did. You knew of the struggles he had to face as a young man to reach his current position, and of his continued and absolute success in everything he was tasked with. Anyone who was to read a biography of his life would surely finish it feeling completely inadequate in their achievements. However, this did not stop him from being an incorrigible ass. As high as your respect reached, your distaste for the man reached even higher.

Every interaction the two of you shared resulted in petty squabbles that often turned into raging arguments, both of you having so much to prove being Generals of the First Order. This is why you were on edge today; General Hux was scheduled for a visit to your ship to discuss trading routes and tactical plans for when the war against the Resistance finally reached its bloody peak.

Trying your hardest not to fidget as you stood in the docking bay, you kept your posture ramrod straight and your head held high as you watched Hux’s ship land just a few metres away. He strode from the vessel with purpose, face stern and eyes steely; this was a man who knew what he wanted and would do anything within his power to get it. Unfortunately for him, he would have to go through you first.

“General Hux, welcome” you offered your hand, eyes hiding your already slightly irritated mood.

“Let’s get this over with, General (y/l/n)” he spoke harshly, shaking your hand quickly as though it may scorch him through those gloves of his, and you could tell that his mood was certainly matching yours.

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you took a deep breath and turned swiftly on the spot, leading him and two of his high-ranking Officers to the conference room where this particular meeting would take place.

The meeting, for the most part, went well. For perhaps the first time, you and General Hux were able to agree on almost all of the resource routes and tactical plans that you both thought should be put in place. These agreements were met by the both of you squinting your eyes at one another multiple times, as if the other were playing a trick.

You could tell that the Officers in the room were uncomfortable with the frequent silences that encompassed the room as you each attempted to figure the other out. Of course, it was also not without its difficulties, there being several points where voices were raised and insults fired, but nothing out of the ordinary. In comparison, this was a rather mild exchange.

Once all formalities were taken care of, you once again shook General Hux’s hand and left for your bridge; you had already been away for too long and although you trusted that your staff would not cause the fall of the First Order in your absence, you were still far more comfortable being there yourself to ensure smooth-running.

“You are relieved, Lieutenant Duran.” With a nod, the young Lieutenant stepped from the centre of the bridge back to her station, but not before assuring you that everything had continued without fault.

 It had not been 5 minutes.

 “You know, General (y/l/n), it is considered extremely unprofessional to leave such an inexperienced Lieutenant in charge of the bridge of an entire Starcruiser.” Hux’s practised calm and controlled manner always unnerved you, and you knew which condescending smirk would be adorning his face before you even turned to look at him.

“Ah, so an expert on my staff are we now, General Hux?” now facing him, there it was. Not 3 feet away from you, the slight upturn of his mouth said it all. As if he had the upper hand. As if there were any way he was getting out of this contest he had started without getting burned.

“No need to be an expert when their glistening inexperience radiates out from them like a raging sun” he spat the words at you, boastful tone and all.

“How poetic”, wistful tone to your voice. “Did Supreme Leader Snoke teach you that or did you come up with it all by yourself?” the fire within you was starting to come alive, the embers you had managed to keep at bay now begging to be unleashed. The look of amusement was washed from his face.

“Do not speak ill of the Supreme Leader. You have no idea what he could do to you with a mere thought.” Voice slightly raised, façade cracking, just the way you wanted.

“And what would he do to me? Assign me to babysitting duty like he has you?” you visibly smirked at your own comment, searching his eyes for a reaction. Everyone knew of the Knight of Ren who required so much attention aboard the Finalizer, and of the unlucky General who had to oversee him. That had hit a nerve.

“My business aboard the Finalizer is none of yours. Perhaps if you were paying more attention to your own affairs you would not be running such a poor, unorganised operation. It is an embarrassment to the First Order, as are you” gloved finger now pointed in your direction, the fury behind his words was now shining bright in his eyes. This riled you, and even though you begged yourself to stay calm, you knew it wasn’t going to happen.

“Did you come here for anything in particular? Or simply to insult me in front of my staff? I must say, you are doing a terrible job. I have earned the respect of my officers, while you sit on your own bridge being mocked for being nothing but a glorified wet-nurse.” You could not help the elevation in volume, nor the step towards him that you took.

As he took a step to meet you, you thought for a moment that he may attempt to strike you. But General Hux used words as his weapons in situations such as these, and the thought evaporated before it could fully form. Now you stood just inches apart.

“How dare you speak to me with such insolence and disrespect. How you ever managed to barter your way into a Generals’ position will never cease to astonish me, you unworthy, pitiful woman.” General Hux had lost almost all sense of control by this point, and you feared for a second that he may burst a vein in his neck judging by the way it was standing out.

As you stood there staring each other down, you decided enough was enough.

“Now now, General, it’s not my fault that Commander Ren has you under his thumb.” When he failed to issue a response, you continued, façade reinstating itself across your features, emotions locking down.

“I suggest you step off my bridge. Now.” He must have been able to feel your breath on his face at this point.

“Is that a threat?” With a quick quirk of his eyebrow, Hux was back in control of himself, once again a stony-faced, polished First Order figure.

“Not yet.” You almost whispered, eyes flicking between his.

 Both of you knew that this argument was over, but as Hux turned briskly and stalked away from you, you couldn’t help yourself but to call after him.

 “Have fun babysitting, General.”

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Are you still accepting Star Wars requests?

Yes!

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Hux x reader where the reader is hux assistant. She is friends with an officer, or someone else that works on the ship, but they look extremely like hux and he gets kinda jealous and confronts the reader

https://go-imagine-it.tumblr.com/post/169754876183/attention-general-hux-x-reader

I really enjoyed writing this, thank you for requesting!

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Attention - General Hux x Reader

Request: Hux x reader where the reader is hux assistant. She is friends with an officer, or someone else that works on the ship, but they look extremely like hux and he gets kinda jealous and confronts the reader

Notes: Hooray! the Hux void has begun to be filled, I hope you enjoy some oh so lovely Hux jealousy 

Word count: 1900

Warnings: none

As you walked swiftly towards General Hux’s office, datapad under your arm, take-out caf in one hand and the General’s schedule in the other, your mind began to drift over the tasks ahead of you. Today, you had multiple shipment forms, ally reports and weapon check documents to fill out and send on to the General for his approval, as well as ordering the schedule for the same superior for the following day. You also had countless Stormtrooper and Officer assessments to go over, and you inwardly groaned at the mere thought of all the paperwork. Inspection day was never fun.

Regardless of this, you enjoyed your job, and wouldn’t wish for anything to be different. Since becoming the personal assistant to General Hux, life had changed drastically. You now got far less sleep and far less time to socialise, regularly staying up past regulation work hours to help the General finish anything and everything that needed doing. This, you reasoned, meant that the overworked General could get more sleep, rather than exhausting himself and taking out said exhaustion on innocent workers.

Although he often tried to protest, you responded by telling him that there was no point in going back to your quarters where you would only fret over the work to be done anyway, so you may as well help him complete it. This usually caused an exasperated eye roll aimed in your direction, but it was worth it.

Working under one of the most powerful men in the First Order brought with it a strong sense of pride and purpose, one that was definitely not present when working under the far weaker and less welcome gaze of Lieutenant Mitaka. Hux carried on his shoulders the weight of an entire military, not to mention the pressure that accompanied Supreme Leader Snoke’s reign, and Commander Ren’s vicious and unpredictable temperament. It certainly didn’t hurt that the General was truly a sight to behold, either.

You could not remember a time in your past when a person had so immediately and so ferociously captured your affection, but here you were, weak at the knees at the very thought of him. Of course, you were able to keep yourself completely professional when you had to interact with him, which was on a daily basis, as you were chosen for this job for a reason and would be damned if you let anything get in the way of you completing your tasks to the highest standard.

Nearing the General’s office, you caught sight of your friend, Officer Umbra, approaching from the opposite direction, and you couldn’t fight the smile that made its way onto your face at the sight of him. His red hair was dishevelled beneath his Officer’s cap, his usually tall and straight posture slouched, and green eyes looking as though they were begging to close - and stay that way.

“Heavy one last night was it, Umbra?” the smirk on your face only seemed to cause more discomfort on his pale face as he lifted his head properly to meet your eyes, and he let out an extremely distressed groan, running his hand over his face.

“Don’t even joke, (y/n), it’s not funny.” The artificial light hit his face, illuminating his high cheekbones and making him squint with the effort of not keeping his eyes trained on the black floor of the corridor, now looking at you instead.

“Well, maybe you should have thought about that before you had so much to drink the night before inspection” you chided, making his eyes widen.

“Inspection? That’s today?” Umbra swore under his breath as the memory came back to him.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine” you tried to comfort him, knowing full well that if he was still in this state when the General got around to him, he’d have hell to pay.

Placing the datapad, caf and schedule on the floor beside you and reaching up, you pulled the cap from his head and began to flatten the unruly red hair, fashioning it into some semblance of order. Placing it back on, you ensured that it was actually straight this time. Being so close you realised, not for the first time, how many physical similarities Umbra had to the General. If someone were to describe their features in a list (green eyes, red hair, sharp cheekbones etc.), you could not be confident that you would be able to tell which was which.

However, Umbra was not the General. He did not have the same confidence, the same power and demand for respect, the same magnetising pull that you felt towards General Hux. But he was a good friend. He had been there for you when life in the First Order ever got too much, and you had returned the favour. But General Hux did not know any of this.

He could see you both through the door he had left open; he knew you were moments away from arriving. He saw the way you smiled at him, the way you fussed over this lowly Officer, trying to make him look presentable. He noticed the way the Officer had an astonishing number of features he recognised to be similar to himself. And it made him furious.

Why would you choose this poor excuse for an Officer, who looked so much like him, when he wanted you so badly? He thought he had made it obvious. Whatever foreign emotion was being riled up inside of him, he despised it. He despised you for making him feel this way. And at the same time, it only made him want you more.

As you straightened Umbra’s collar and Officer’s jacket, he finally looked to be in some semblance of order.

Mumbling a quick, tired “thank you”, he pulled you in for a brief one-armed hug before asking you to wish him luck as he trudged on to his station.

“Good luck!” you called after him, giggling slightly at the poor posture of your friend, before picking up your things, turning back around and stepping into the General’s office. The door was open, which you found strange, but decided not to question it, closing it behind you. As you saw Hux sat at his desk, and you could feel the stress and agitation radiating off him the moment your eyes landed on him. Oh boy.

 “Good morning, General Hux.” He didn’t reply. This was bad. You kept the smile on your face and walked over to his desk, pushing the caf in front of him and placing his schedule, open, on his desk.

“Here’s your schedule for the day. Lieutenant Mitaka requested to move his meeting with you to 3pm, but I cancelled it instead, I know how irritating he can-“

“What makes you think it prudent to be flirting with an Officer whilst on duty, (y/l/n)?” the sharpness of his tone threw you slightly, and it took you a few seconds to fully take in what he was asking. His eyes then rose to meet yours, something behind them that you had never seen before.

“Flirting? Sir, Officer Umbra is my friend, I can assure you-“

“Assure me what, exactly? That having your hands all over a colleague is simply a ‘friendly gesture’? I think not.” His voice was cold, angry. As he spoke, he got up from his desk and walked around it to face you. He had never spoken to you this way before, and you started to feel uneasy. The door had been open, he must have seen what happened.

“How dare you be so insolent. Vying for the attention of that Officer is not how you should be spending your working hours.” It felt like a warning. Confusion and shock must have been evident on your face as you scrambled for the right words, the General standing so close to you was throwing you even more off guard.

“General, I swear to you that I have no romantic feelings towards Officer Umbra at all, and I am deeply sorry if it came across as though I was flirting with him. That would be extremely unprofessional of me and I would hate to disappoint you.” It was at this point that the General seemed to soften, as if realising what he had done. Seeing the fear that was present in your eyes, he resented himself for his outburst almost immediately. He sighed lightly, eyes dropping to the floor, both extremely uncharacteristic of the usually in-control General.

“I apologise, (y/l/n), I did not mean to lose my temper with you like that” he lowered his head, as if ashamed, clenching his fists. An apology had you even more shocked than before.

“It’s okay, General. May I continue with my tasks?” you asked quietly, and he could only offer you a nod. Moving to your desk, the adrenaline rushing through you and the relief that followed conjured up a thought in your head. It’s not like he’s the attractive red head I want to pay attention to me, anyway.

“Excuse me?” Oh no. Heart dropping to the depths of the galaxy, you froze where you stood, unable to move. Had you just said that out loud? Still facing away from the General, it gave you the opportunity to hide your shame; you could pretend he wasn’t there or that this was just a bad dream. That was, until you felt a hand on your shoulder gently urging you to turn around.

You couldn’t look him in the eye as you turned to face him, instead choosing to focus on the immaculate shine of his boots. His hand had not left your shoulder, and the touch burned through you, white hot. His other hand came to your chin, gently holding it as he lifted your face to look at him. His features were now softer than you had ever seen them, a hint of curiosity hiding behind his eyes. But most of all, it was affection that was screaming out at you, making you seemingly unable to breathe.

Hux furrowed his brow ever so slightly, as if questioning his next move, seeing him unsure of himself for the first time, hesitant.

You don’t know who moved first, but your lips met. Brushing ever so lightly to begin with, both unsure if this was what the other wanted. It soon changed, becoming open-mouthed and needy, his hands moving so that one cradled your face, the other fisted tightly into the side of your shirt. You had one hand at the nape of his neck, and the other tangled in the front of his coat. You wanted him to feel the unspoken desire you held for him, and he the same for you.

Neither of you wanted it to stop, but you pulled away to take a much-needed breath, both gasping for air, him following your mouth with his as he backed you up against your desk. He stopped then, to look at you, the slight swelling of your lips because of his treatment, as you gazed at the tinge of pink that now dusted his pale face, still both clinging onto one another. He smiled, and you swore you had never seen something so beautiful in the entire galaxy, before he leaned down and uttered the most perfect, breathless sentence in your ear.

“If it’s my attention you want, then you can have it all.”

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Send me some Hux/Reader requests!

Armitage Hux is ruining my life and I need to write something to fill the painful void so please send me some requests! 

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Do you have any Peaky Blinders imagines to post?

Not yet! I have one requested but I'm doing them in order of when they were requested so it'll be out hopefully soon! But if you'd like me to write something for you just let me know what you'd like it to be about and I'd be happy to do it

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I Need You - Sherlock x Reader

Requested by @trilbygirl212​ I hope you like it!!

Prompt 20: ”Have you been crying?"

Prompt 69: ”When you love someone, you don’t just stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy… even then. Especially then!

Prompt 110: ”You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.”

Word Count: 1783

Warnings: drug use/overdose, so much angst

It had been a long day. An extremely long day. When you came into work that morning, Greg handed you three different files each containing a different set of murders. You’d started optimistically; evidence was screaming at you from the pages and within a few hours you were sure you knew who the culprits were. But as time went on, you knew you wouldn’t be getting home for much longer than usual.

Everything came up negative. Every piece of forensic evidence you’d asked to be tested came back either unusable, unrelated to the crime or just plain wrong. Witnesses refused to speak or gave completely contrasting stories. You’d even been screamed at by a middle-aged woman for wasting her time when she had ‘far more important things to be doing.’

No matter how hard you tried, things kept going wrong and for the time being you just didn't know how to fix them. All you wanted to do was go home, curl up into a ball next to Sherlock, and fall asleep.

That was one thing keeping you going: Sherlock. When you first met him, you’d known that your life would never be the same again. What you didn’t expect was for him to fall in love with you. But he did. And you fell hard for him, too.

John seemed to know before either of you did, always giving you sideways glances when you were stood a little closer to each other than perhaps socially acceptable, or the way you both naturally fell into the habit of touching each other when it definitely wasn’t necessary.

After a while, people just assumed that you were a couple and after months of denying having feelings for one another, you both stopped arguing with people and realised that you were just meant to be together.

After that, it wasn’t long before you moved into Sherlock’s apartment at 221B. When he’d asked you, he tried to make it seem as though it was for logical, non-relationship reasons only, but you could see through the facade. He was more comfortable and relaxed when you were around, he could sleep through the night and he could concentrate on his work better with you reading curled up on the sofa wearing his clothes.

Of course, there were some people who didn’t approve. There were a great deal of people who, for one reason or another, greatly disliked Sherlock. It was usually because they were sour about him insulting them in some way in the past, but you knew that some reasons were even more personal.

Hushed voices and quiet laughs accompanied the presence of these individuals, which you knew you found much easier to ignore than Sherlock. He had grown up as an outsider, his intelligence setting him above others, isolating him. You knew it bothered him when he would let go of your hand if he saw people snickering, looks of disbelief clear on their features, and he would shut himself off from you for the rest of the day.

*

It was around 10PM when you finally decided that enough was enough; you’d come back tomorrow with fresh eyes and a new perspective, you were sure of it. You had to be. Packing up your things, you sighed to yourself before leaving your office and walking out into the main room of the department.

Quite a few people had stayed behind to work tonight, it seemed; Scotland Yard was under a lot of pressure from both the press and the public due to a recent lack of progress on a case that had caught a lot of attention. Consequently, everyone knew that results were needed, and they were needed soon. Nodding and offering a tired smile to a few of your coworkers, you came to a halt at the familiar, displeasing voice that came from the delightful Detective Sargent that was Sally Donovan.

“Going home to the freak now, Y/N?” You wanted to wipe that smirk from her face in an extremely unsavoury way, but knew that she was definitely not worth losing your job over. You turned to her, giving a sickly sweet smile.

“I meant to ask you, Sally, are you going going to be sleeping with Anderson or someone else from the workforce tonight? I heard that Detective Morrison’s wife is away for the weekend if you’re interested. I know that the married ones are your type.” An officer to your left burst out laughing, making you feel slightly triumphant and smug, and you walked from the room - listening to the laughter spread - before she had the chance to form a retaliation.

The cab ride was peaceful; there wasn’t as much traffic at this time of night, and it took you no time at all to arrive at Baker St. You paid and thanked the driver, got out your keys and headed for the front door.

Climbing the stairs, you smelt it before you even reached the door.

The air left your lungs as you scrambled to get the door open, the adrenaline launching through your veins, causing your hands to shake. Once it was open, you could only stand in the doorway in sheer anguish as you saw Sherlock lying there on the living room floor, eyes closed and unmoving, surrounded by heroin bags and needles.

You dropped your keys and your bag, flinging your coat to the side as you rushed to drop to your knees next to him, hands instantly grabbing his shoulders and trying desperately to wake him up.

“Sherlock. Sherlock!” No response.

Remembering to check for a pulse, you felt the side of his neck frantically, almost crying with relief when you felt the heartbeat on your fingertips. Far too slow, but it was there. You leant down, putting your face over his to make sure he was breathing. He was, but barely. You knew that you needed to wake him up; he was lucky, lying on his back, that he hadn’t choked.

You tried pinching under his arm, but when that didn’t work, you tore open the top of his shirt and  tried unceremoniously rubbing his sternum with your knuckles.

He stirred. A huff of breath was all to start with, but that was enough. You pinched him under the arm again, and this time his eyes tried to open and he groaned.

“Yes! Sherlock, thank god, you need to wake up. Please!” You begged him, knowing he was in no state to understand what you were actually saying but hoping that your tone of voice would be enough to get him to fight the drugs in his system.

His skin was clammy, so you ran to fetch a wet flannel to try and cool him down a little, manoeuvring him so that he was lying on his side with his head facing you in your lap. As you ran the cloth across his forehead, you couldn’t help but start to cry with both fear and relief at the same time.

“Come on, Sherlock, you can do it. Just wake up. For me.” His hand found yours, and although the grip was weak, it was more than enough for now. After a while, his eyes opened, but as he was about to speak, you could see him slipping back into unconsciousness.

“No! You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.” Speaking sadly to yourself more than to Sherlock, you stroked his hair with the hand that wasn’t encased in his own, fighting off the sobs that threatened to come out.

“I’m…” Sherlock breathed out. Finally he was trying to speak, his voice hoarse, but you waited for him to continue.

“I’m sorry.” Eyes still closed, you were glad that he couldn't see the tears that had started falling. How could this be happening? This wasn’t the first time you’d seen Sherlock this way, but it had been so long and he’d been doing so well that your heart was breaking to see him back like this again.

“Don’t be sorry. Just tell me why, Sherlock.” You said softly, not trying to keep the despair from your voice.

“I’m just… not good enough.” He was speaking so quietly you almost didn’t hear him. “Sherlock, what are you talking about?” He’d regained consciousness almost entirely now, but he wasn’t ready to face you yet and so kept his eyes closed, the familiar feelings of guilt and regret coursing through his body and mind. Not to mention the drugs that were still firmly in his veins, making his mind cloudy and his speech slurred.

“One day… you’ll realise what a freak I am… and you won't love me any more.” It took far longer than usual for him to be able to get the sentence out, and if you hadn’t thought your heart could hurt any more than it already did, you were wrong.

Continuing to run your fingers though his hair, you heard him mumble ‘it’s only logical’. You didn’t even have to think of the words before they came tumbling from between your lips.

“Sherlock, when you love someone, you don’t just stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy… even then. Especially then! I can’t do any of this without you and I wouldn’t want to. I need you, Sherlock. Always.” He didn’t say anything, but you saw the tear that escaped through his closed eyelids.

“I don’t want you to be laughed at because you’re with me.” You’d known he’d been feeling like this since you first got together, but hearing him say it was agonising.

“Who cares what other people think? Most of them are idiots. Idiots who are jealous of how intelligent and incredible you are. All that matters is us, no-one else.” He nodded into your lap.

“I love you, Y/N.” He held onto you tighter.

“I love you too.”

The two of you lay like that until Sherlock told you that he thought he could move, and when you got him stood up, you supported him as you both walked to the bedroom. Placing a glass of water on his bedside table, you climbed into bed next to him so that you were facing each other.

“Have you been crying?” He asked you, but you could only let out a small laugh, knowing he had the answer from your red face and puffy eyes already. Instead, you moved closer to him so that your head was resting on his chest, listening to his now strong and steady heartbeat.

Sherlock settled into a feeling of slightly-groggy content. Lying with you in his arms he realised that, no, no-one else mattered.

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Guilt was everything I asked for and even more, just wanted to drop by and say it was amazing :) thank you for this reader insert, you're really a great writer

Thank you so much for saying that and thank you for requesting it! I’m so happy that you liked it

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Guilt - Sherlock x Reader

Requested by Anon, I hope you enjoy it!

Request: Can I request SherlockxReader with prompt sentences 167 and 200? Like reader still angry with him for something from the past, but Sherlock feeling overprotective over them, though he can't understand why. I'd be eternally grateful, I love your writing already :D

Prompt 167: "If he’s going to treat you like shit I’m going to kick his ass.” Prompt 200: “I’m doing this to protect you.”

Word Count: 2069 (oops)

Warnings: kidnapping, unrelated creepy guy being creepy

It had been six days since you’d spoken to Sherlock, and for good reason. This was the longest you’d gone without speaking since the day you met him two years ago, but when you wanted to give someone the silent treatment, you could certainly do it properly. After all, he deserved it.

- seven days ago -

Standing in the rain, you waited for Sherlock by the entrance to Piccadilly Circus station. He had told you to meet him there at 11pm, telling you he needed your help with a case.

You loved it when he let you tag along on his cases, and you were getting to go with him more and more frequently as time progressed. You occasionally asked him why he wanted you there, it’s not as though it was often you could actually offer any advice, but he would just wave you off or mutter “you’re just helpful” under his breath without bothering to look at you.

Many people, including John, constantly asked what was ‘going on’ between the two of you, but the answer was simple. Nothing. And as much as the idea of the answer at least being ‘something’, you knew that it was never going to change; that just wasn’t who Sherlock was and you could accept that.

And that is what you were thinking about as you stood getting soaked in the middle of January. That is also why you were suddenly pleased when a van pulled up next to you, your eyes hopeful as you waited for Sherlock to climb out, take your hand, and drag you to the scene of a crime. You’d barely be able to keep up, but it didn’t matter because the adrenaline would keep you going for as long as you needed it to.

Three men in balaclavas got out and started walking towards you.

Before you even had time to process what was happening, their arms were around you and you were being lifted off the ground, something being pushed into your neck, and thrown into the back of the van with a bag over your head. The adrenaline that would usually keep you moving was keeping you frozen, unable to move or speak and barely able to breathe in the confined space.

Their speech was muffled and you couldn’t make out what they were saying, but in the distance you were sure you could hear shouting. Shouting your name? Whatever you had been drugged with made it’s way into your bloodstream, and before you could have another fraction of a thought, you blacked out.

When you woke up, you were back in your flat in your own bed. Your wet clothes had been replaced by a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, and it took you a few moments for your eyes to get accustomed to the light. Remembering what had happened, you shot up, sending a torrent of pain through your head which made you groan loudly.

Finding your phone on your nightstand where you would usually leave it, you knew it wasn’t you who had put it there this time. 6:23AM. 12 missed calls. All from Sherlock. Checking the times of the calls, you saw that they had all been between 11:02PM and 11:27PM the night before.

Sherlock had sent you into a trap. It all became clear as you sat there with the worst headache you’d ever felt and a bruise on the side of the neck from the needle you’d been knocked out with. Your friend, someone who you thought must care for you at least a minuscule amount, had knowingly sent you out to be bait for god knows who. Murderers? Rapists?

You knew he most likely didn’t think they would actually take you, but that didn’t matter. Anger and sadness built up inside you until it manifested as you throwing your phone across the room and then immediately starting to cry. It was just too much.

For the first time in his life, Sherlock was feeling the nauseating emotion of guilt. It ran through him in waves; each time he’d remember the way those men grabbed you, realised how scared you must have been, another surge of remorse hit him square in the chest. He thought he would get there in time with the police before that could happen, but he was wrong. Someone else he wasn’t used to admitting.

He didn’t know why, but he had grown to care about you, your wellbeing and even your happiness far more than he thought he would ever be capable of. It made him hold his tongue from making rude comments that he thought could upset you, change his eating habits because he didn’t like seeing you worrying about him, and even quelled his desire for substances.

As he sat there on your sofa, Sherlock heard you start to cry. His first feeling was relief that you had finally woken up. His second was that he needed to see you. When he reached your bedroom door, he knocked, but upon receiving no reply, opened the door and stepped inside.

You looked over, knowing who would be there before seeing him. You didn’t try to hide your crying; he needed to know how much he had hurt you. But enough was enough, and you wanted him gone.

“Sherlock, get out.” You spoke through your tears, looking him in the eye. He looked shocked, and he was. By seeing you this way, he realised on an even deeper level what he had done to you. He had betrayed the trust you’d built together over the last two years, tearing it all down with one monumental mistake.

“Y/N… I’m so sor-“ “I don’t care.” You cut him off. “I just want you to leave.” The look of hurt that crossed his face was almost enough to go back on what you were saying, but at that moment a swell of pain swept behind your eyes.

“Y/N, please-“ “Just go, Sherlock!” Looking at each other for another moment, he nodded, before turning around and walking out of your room. You heard him open and close your front door, and he was gone.

- present -

As you carried another drink over to the gentleman sat in the corner of the restaurant, you tried not to let the memory of what happened get in the way of your work; you couldn’t afford to get anything else wrong. You were on thin ice with your boss already, and had been warned that one more mistake would mean getting fired. It wasn’t your fault that every now and then Sherlock would rush in, drag you out and take you on a case in the middle of a shift.

Placing the drink on the table, he thanked you, and you replied with as much cheeriness as you could muster.

“You seem a little down, love, what’s wrong?” He asked politely, but you could sense that he was hoping to get a little more than your sad story out of this conversation. “Nothing at all, don’t you worry” you replied, flashing him your signature waitress smile that you would drop as soon as you were facing away from him.

“Come on, you can tell me! It’s a man, isn't it? I can tell, it’s a man.” You didn’t really want to think about this when you were at home, and you definitely didn’t want to think about it while you were working. You just laughed as a response.

"A pretty thing like you should be with a gentleman. If he’s going to treat you like shit, I’m going to kick his ass, because I think you and me could get along very well” he smirked at you suggestively, making your stomach turn. Usually you could handle men like this; you’d had to do it on countless occasions, but right now you just didn’t have it in you.

"Excuse me, I need to get going” you told him, trying to keep your tone polite. As you tried to walk past him, the man grabbed and pulled on your arm, mentioning something about you running away from him. You were about to tell him to let go, but a fist appeared out of nowhere and collided with his nose.

He released you and started shouting as blood ran down his face. That was when you turned to see Sherlock shaking his right hand out in front of him and wincing slightly. He looked from the now extremely angry man to you, grabbed you by the hand and dragged you quickly away, through the restaurant and into a storage closet. He closed the door behind him.

“What are you doing, Sherlock!?” You couldn’t believe what had just happened, and so when something cold closed around your wrist and you realised he had handcuffed you to the radiator, you almost lost it. But before you could speak, he closed a hand around your mouth.

“I’m doing this to protect you. Just hang on.” Not a chance. You used your other hand to pry his  larger one from your face. “Sherlock Holmes, don’t you dare leave me here” you warned him. Offering you a quick “sorry” as a reply, he left you and headed back out.

Was this actually happening? You felt as though you were caught in a strange dream as you waited, handcuffed and frustrated in a closet.

When Sherlock came back, he was looking rather pleased with himself. “What did you do?" You scowled at him, but he only smirked at you. “Let's just say that that particular customer will not be returning to this restaurant. Oh, and I told him that if he ever comes near you again, the consequences would be severe.” This was too much again, and you thought back to what Sherlock had done to you.

“Since when did you care about protecting me?” You weren’t angry any more, just sad and let-down. He looked directly at you now, straight-faced, and you knew he was thinking hard about what he was going to say. When he spoke, he spoke softly.

“Since I realised that even the thought of losing you made me want to just… stop existing.” He was looking down now, unable to meet your eye. “I’m unfathomably sorry for what I did. I thought I'd get to you in time, but that doesn’t change the fact I should never have put you at risk like that, and I will never do it again. I can’t stand you not speaking to me. I don’t even understand why I feel like this, I’ve done far worse things to John, but I…” He paused again, while you stood in shock.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He looked at you again then, and you knew he meant it, and although you forgave him instantly, you could only nod with teary eyes.

You realised at this moment just how close you were to him, there not being much room in the closet you were stood in, and you saw the realisation cross his face at the same time. His eyes fluttered to your mouth and back up again, making your heart thunder.

“Please stop me if… if this isn’t what you want…” Sherlock whispered, and raised his hand to the side of your face, your eyes closing naturally at his touch.

And then his lips were on yours and he was kissing you softly, almost nervously, and everything else in the universe melted away apart from the feeling of kissing him. Sherlock brought his other hand to your face, and you threaded your free hand into the hair on the back of his head, never wanting it to end.

After a few seconds or minutes or hours - you weren’t sure - he pulled away, looking at you expectantly. You could only giggle, making him break out into a wide smile, still holding your face, only an inch apart.

“How about you set me free from this radiator and we go for dinner?” You asked him, making his smile even wider. He took a key from his pocket, unlocking the handcuffs and put them back into his pocket.

“Oh, one more thing” looking from your slightly sore wrist to Sherlock, he continued. “Your boss told me to tell you that you’re fired.” You just rolled your eyes and laughed.

It was definitely worth it.

[go-imagine-it]

Can I request SherlockxReader with prompt sentences 167 and 200? Like reader still angry with him for something from the past, but Sherlock feeling overprotective over them, though he can't understand why. I'd be eternally grateful, I love your writing already :D

https://go-imagine-it.tumblr.com/guilt

This was a fun one!

I hope this is what you wanted, I got a bit carried away hahaha

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Hi! I'm using my mobile right now and I was wondering if you would link me your masterlist please? Also, I love your work!

https://go-imagine-it.tumblr.com/masterlist

Here you go! There’s not much to see yet because the blog is only a few days old but it’ll get there. Thanks so much, I hope you enjoy!

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Can I make a request for Sherlock x reader? Reader is working a graveyard shift at the hospital and Sherlock is her patient because he got shot. And because they're together Sherlcok is like "Oh hey (y/n). Fancy seeing you here, what's for dinner?"

just posted it nonnie, I hope it’s what you wanted!

[go-imagine-it]

The Graveyard Shift - Sherlock x Reader

I hope this is what you wanted! Thanks for reading!

Request: Can I make a request for Sherlock x reader? Reader is working a graveyard shift at the hospital and Sherlock is her patient because he got shot. And because they're together Sherlock is like "Oh hey (y/n). Fancy seeing you here, what's for dinner?”

Word Count: 1206

Warnings: mentions of blood/wound

Accident and Emergency was never quiet, especially in the centre of London. Each night brought with it numerous people with beaten-up faces, broken legs and often even more serious injuries. Unfortunately, between the hours of 12AM and 8AM - the shift you were working - the majority of these were catalysed by copious amounts of alcohol in the systems of the injured.

This is why, at 2:24AM in the morning, you had the pleasure of watching an extremely inebriated 25-year-old throw up into a container you had given him. He had gotten himself into a fight with someone much bigger than him in a nightclub, and had suffered the consequences. These consequences included a broken nose, two black eyes and a dislocated shoulder.

Had the man not been so drunk, he would have been discharged as soon as his injuries were dealt with, but due to the alcohol, he had to be kept an eye on until he sobered up. Just as you handed him yet another container, your pager beeped to tell you that someone was being brought in by ambulance.

“Here, take these and stay hydrated, I have to go” you told him, handing him a pile of vomit containers. You rushed out into the corridor where you were met by a nurse called Alex who fell into stride beside you.

“I just got off the phone. The paramedic said it’s a male with a gunshot wound to the abdomen, happened about 8 minutes ago. They were close, so they got to him quickly. Sounds like he was lucky” Alex told you, marking it down on a form as she spoke. Just as you reached the doors to the ambulance bay, they burst open, paramedics pushing the gurney quickly past you both and towards the ward. You followed behind.

“We’ve got a male in his early thirties, gunshot wound to the left side of the abdomen. The bullet is still inside, but we managed to stop the majority of the bleeding for now. We thought that he might go into secondary shock but so far he seems to be okay, although he keeps falling in and out of consciousness due to the blood loss.”

“What have you given him?” You asked. “So far he’s only had intravenous fluid to try and keep him conscious, and oxygen for the pain.” The leading paramedic turned the gurney around to lift him onto the hospital bed, and when he moved, you finally saw who your newest patient was.

“Sherlock! Oh my god, what happened to you?” You asked more to yourself as he had drifted out of consciousness again, rushing to his side. “You know him?” Alex asked you, a look of surprise and pity on her face. “Much to my dismay, yes.” You took a moment to think about your next move. You weren’t about to panic and lose your head, because that was when mistakes were made and there was no chance you were going to mess this up. This is what you were trained for, and so you got ready to do what you were good at.

“Okay, thank you for bringing him in, we’ll take it from here” you told the paramedics, and they nodded before leaving to wait for their next call.

“Alex, I need you to check on the wound and tell me what degree of bleeding and damage we have.” Your coworker got straight to it, while you checked his airways, breathing and circulation.

“Oh, Sherlock, what have you gotten yourself into now?” You stopped to brush some of hair from his face, making him stir slightly. You leant down to speak quietly to him. “Don’t worry, I’m going to take care of you, you’ll be okay.”

Two hours later, the bullet had been removed, the bleeding stopped and the wound had been sterilised and stitched. Sherlock lay still, looking even paler than usual, still unconscious in the bed. “Thank you Alex, you can get back to what you were doing.” You laughed slightly, and she returned it; you wouldn’t have been able to do it without her.

You changed the blood bag being fed into Sherlock’s arm and pulled a chair up beside him, feeling like you’d earned a couple of minutes rest. Reaching over to him, you took his hand in yours and decided to talk to him even if he couldn’t hear you.

“I always knew I’d have to patch you up after something like this one day, and it’s as scary as I thought it would be. So how about you try and take care of yourself for once? I care about you far too much to lose you.” Giving him a kiss on the forehead, you left to check on your other patients, asking a nurse to page you when he woke up.

It was only half an hour later when you were told he was awake, and as soon as you were able you headed over to the ward he’d been taken to for recovery. As you got to the room, a middle-aged male patient was being wheeled out, shouting at the nurse moving him.

“The insolence! I shouldn't have to be spoken to like that! I demand that you remove him!” Rolling your eyes, you watched him disappear down a corridor, knowing that your boyfriend really was awake and must be feeling much better.

As soon as you rounded the corner, letting Sherlock see you, you didn’t even try to hide your annoyance at him. “Oh, Y/N! Fancy seeing you here. Can I go home now?” He had a faux-innocent smile on his face that only increased your annoyance, and weren’t afraid to tell him so as you walked over to him.

“No, Sherlock, you can't go home. Do you know why? Because you got shot, lacerating your stomach and spleen and to be honest with you you're very lucky that it didn’t cause a hell of a lot more damage.” You could tell that he was itching to get up and move around, but there was no way he was ready to do that yet.

“But I’m bored.” He pouted, wincing slightly as he tried to sit up, but you had been with him long enough to be able to ignore his tactics to try and get what he wanted, even if you did secretly think he looked cute. Sickly, and like he had just been shot, but cute.

“I don’t care if you’re bored, you shouldn't have gotten shot if you didn’t want to end up in here.” He made an exasperated huffing sound before simply saying “dull” under his breath.

“Shut up, Sherlock. I shouldn’t even technically be treating you. I can go and get Dr Roberts if you’d prefer?” You knew this would hit a nerve; he hated Dr Roberts.

“What? No. I hate Dr Roberts. He’s an idiot.” “That’s what I thought. Will you behave and let yourself get better? For me?” Now it was your turn to do the pouting, and he fell for it every time. He rolled his eyes, making you laugh. This only served to make him smile in return, even if he did try to hide it.

“Fine.”

[go-imagine-it]

Nightmares - Sherlock x Reader

Prompts requested by Anon. I hope it’s what you wanted!

Prompt 17: “I can’t lose you, not again.” Prompt 86: “I had a nightmare about you and I just waned to make sure you’re okay.”

Word Count: 1240

Warnings: mentions of suicide kind of??

Smiling to yourself as you saw which caller ID was lighting up your phone screen, you put down the medical supplies you were carrying and answered the call.

“Well this is a surp-“ you started happily, but were cut off mid-sentence. “Y/N…” The calm and steady voice you were used to had been replaced by a shaky and unsure one, and you were immediately nervous. “Sherlock, what’s wrong?” In all the time you had known him, you had not once heard this tone leave his mouth, and so the feeling settling in your stomach was an uneasy one.

“Y/N… I just… I had to say goodbye” his voice cracked as the last word left his mouth, and your panic started to rise. “Sherlock, what are you talking about? What’s going on?” You hoped to god he was just joking around, but you knew that joking around wasn't really Sherlock Holmes’ style. You didn’t know why, but you started to run. You had to get out of the lab you were in; it felt as though the walls had started to close around you and you needed to get out in the open. You could hear the stuttered breathing on the other end of the line.

As the sunlight and fresh air hit your face and you ran out into the street, you saw John. He was  stood with his arms at his sides looking up at something you couldn’t see from where you were standing. Phone still to your ear, you beelined to him as fast as you could.

“John, what's going on?” You asked quickly, but his eyes didn’t leave their upwards gaze, and you turned yourself around to see what he was focused on.

That was when you saw him. Sherlock. Your Sherlock. Stood on the edge of the roof of St Barts. A sob rose in your throat, and you felt as though you were going to choke.

“Sherlock, what are you doing?” Your voice was quiet and slow now; it took everything you had to even be able to get the words out.

“It was all fake. I made it all up… I’m so sorry.” You had never seen Sherlock cry before, but you could hear his voice was heavy with the weight of tears. He sounded like a broken man, just a fraction of what he had been just a few days before. You knew he was talking about Moriarty, about the supposed fake cases and fake villain, but you did not and would not ever believe the lies that Moriarty had fed to the oblivious public.

“Please come down Sherlock, we can fix it.” You were openly sobbing by this point, your words coming out desperate and anguished.

“I love you, Y/N” his voice was soft now, as though he would never get to say those words again, cherishing them. In your panic, you didn’t even have time to tell him you loved him too before you watched him drop his phone on the ground behind him and spread his arms wide.

Everything slowed down then, caught in an endless moment where you had to watch the love of your life falling. All of the air evacuated your lungs, you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t feel your arms or your legs; you were just a consciousness floating above the ground being forced to watch Sherlock’s body rushing towards the earth.

Just as you thought he would hit the ground, he was suddenly back at the top, the descent starting all over again. You wanted to get to him, but your legs didn't exist any more. You wanted to scream, but you had no voice.

And then everything was black, and you were sat upright in your bed, and you were a person again and before you even had time to process what had happened, you started to cry. It was the type of crying where you barely have time take in another breath before your body is thrown into another bawl.

You scrambled for your phone and through teary eyes managed to find the name you were looking for, pressing ‘call’ with shaking hands. When the call was answered after the third ring and you heard the voice on the other end of the line saying your name, you only cried harder. Relief and despair washing over you at the same time. It was just a dream. Just another nightmare.

“I’ll be there as fast I can, just hang on.” He hung up.

After a few minutes, you dragged yourself up and out of bed and into the light of the living room. You sat in his chair with your knees pulled up against your chest, silent tears still falling. But now from the pain of a memory you wanted so much to forget.

It was around 10 minutes later when the door burst open and you were greeted with a panting Sherlock in front of you. Taking in the sight before him, he walked over to you, kneeling in front of the chair with a look of worry on his face.

“What happened?” Sherlock wasn’t used to seeing you like this, and so it was a shock to see you curled up into yourself looking so defeated.

“I can’t lose you… not again.” It was taking everything you had to not burst into tears again, and so your voice was quiet and unsteady. A slight frown appeared on his face, guilt not being an emotion he was that familiar with, but it was spreading through his chest at an alarming rate. He knew that what he’d done had affected you, but the fact it could reduce you to this made him resent himself.

“Is that why you were crying?” Even hearing him speak made you feel better and more secure. “I had a nightmare about you and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. I had to.” That feeling was rising in your throat again, and your eyes welled up and your voice was weak. He was at a loss for words, and so he stood and lifted you in his arms, carrying you back to the bedroom you shared as you buried your face in his neck.

Once you were safely tucked under the sheets, Sherlock took of his coat, scarf, jacket and shoes and climbed in so that he was facing you. He placed his hand softly on your cheek, his cool thumb stroking the skin that was red and warm from crying.

“You’re not going to lose me, I promise. I am endlessly sorry for what I did, but I’m going to make it up to you. You don’t have to be scared any more.” His words and voice soothed you, and you leaned into his touch and felt yourself nodding. You moved over, placing your head on his shoulder so your breath tickled his neck and wrapped your arm around him. Sherlock reciprocated, pulling you into him, making you feel safe and warm.

“I love you, Sherlock.” Your voice was slightly muffled against him, but you would never again take for granted being able to tell him that you loved him. You wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“I love you too, Y/N.” His deep voice resounded through you as he spoke.

Sherlock Holmes loved you, his arms were wrapped around you, and you knew that you wouldn’t be having another nightmare any time soon.

[go-imagine-it]

17 and 86 for SherlockxReader please and thank you!

working on it now!!

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The Bad Guy - Sherlock x Reader

My first addition to the new blog!

Prompt 81: “Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy”

Word Count: 1660

Warnings: None

You hadn’t worked for Scotland Yard for long, but you felt like you were already getting the hang of it. As the new Head of Forensic Investigations, you’d also had the pleasure of meeting a few of the staff.

First off was Greg Lestrade, the Detective Inspector and therefore your boss. He seemed like a good guy; he had his head screwed on, even if it didn’t seem that way occasionally when he got frustrated and started kicking random objects across the floor. However, he had treated you with respect and welcomed you as though already a friend, which you appreciated greatly after moving to a completely new area and not knowing anyone else.

Next was Philip Anderson. You hadn’t quite figured him out yet. Along with his mousy features, he seemed intelligent and, when doing his job, worked well and got the results he needed. But he couldn’t stop himself from making snide comments about coworkers and was constantly trying to flirt with you, unaware of your near-disgust towards his approaches. He clearly had an issue with boundaries. Also, you were almost one hundred percent certain that he was cheating on his wife with the Detective Sergeant Donovan. The glances and hushed conversations between them did not go unnoticed.

Sergeant Sally Donovan was, again, quite a character. Although friendly to you, she carried the air of a person who felt as though they were better than those she had to be around, instantly making her someone you couldn’t see yourself being friends with. Of course, she didn't want you to see that side of her, so tried to hide it behind fake smiles and dull conversation.

Everyone else at Scotland Yard who you’d been able to meet in the first few weeks were friendly and tried to make you feel comfortable, so you were somewhat disappointed when you realised you’d have to spend so much time with Anderson and Donovan. At least you had Greg to keep you sane.

There was one person, however, that you definitely didn’t want to meet. He was a man that no-one seemed to stop talking about even though it sounded like they all hated him. On your very first day, Anderson had told you about him; how rude, manipulative and unwanted he was at Scotland Yard, but how Greg refused to listen when he was told that he shouldn’t be allowed to continue helping with investigations.

When Donovan had overheard the conversation, she began listing off endless things about him that she despised and that you should be careful of: previous drug addiction (but she was sure he was still using), a complete disregard for others, insolence, arrogance. The list went on, and by the end of it, you were sure that you never wanted to cross paths with him.

This is why you stopped in your tracks when a murder investigation came to a halt and Greg told you that he had called in someone in from the outside. You knew what that meant. He was coming. Up until now your forensic knowledge and skill had been enough to solve every case given to you, but this time something was off and you just couldn’t put your finger on what it was.

You were at the crime scene having just taken off your blue examination suit when Greg came up to you and gave you the news. He was your boss and you weren’t about to argue, you needed all the help you could get, but you couldn’t deny the uneasy feeling that settled in your stomach caused by everything you had been told about the man.

It was around 15 minutes later when a taxi pulled pulled up outside the house where the body was found, and you watched from the open front door a tall, curly-haired man emerge. You had decided to show no fear; you were a professional, and you could act like one even if you were feeling apprehensive. It was your job. You could do this.

As he drew nearer, you noticed the high cheekbones and slight scowl that he was wearing on his face. His pale skin was void of any imperfections and the long black coat wrapped around him was carried by the wind around his legs. This was not the man you were expecting. Nevertheless, as he reached you you stuck out your hand for him to shake. Before you could even get a word out to introduce yourself, he cut you off.

“I know who you are.”

He spoke without stopping his stride, ignoring your outstretched hand and giving you a quick look up and down to read you as he passed, leaving you in stunned silence. You had also been told how he could know everything about someone from a glance, and so now you felt bare in front of him as he walked away swiftly to the crime scene. Realising you still had your hand out, you mentally shook yourself and followed him inside.

As you entered the room again, being careful not to touch anything as you had taken off your sterile clothing, you caught the look of complete disgust shared between Anderson and Donovan as they caught sight of the newest addition to the investigative team. Donovan turned to Greg.

“I didn't know you were inviting the freak today.” The words were laced with poison. “Give it a rest, Donovan” Greg replied. “I’m sick of this, outsiders aren’t supposed to know about Scotland Yard cases, let alone a freak like him.” You couldn’t believe your ears as Anderson snickered and Greg just rolled his eyes and ignored her, obviously used to this, turning around to watch the recipient of cruel words as he examined the body. The man in question was now wearing white gloves and using a small magnifier to look more closely at the scalp of the victim, moving the hair aside to get a better look.

You waited for him lash out back at Donovan, but he just ignored her and got on with what he came here to do. After only a couple of minutes, he stood up straight and looked to Greg, about to give him his conclusion when he was interrupted.

“So have you killed anyone yet freak or are you just waiting for a special occasion?” Donovan spat her words at him as though she wanted them to physically hurt him, and you noticed that Anderson was barely concealing his laughter. You couldn’t believe the way he was being spoken to; surely he couldn’t be so bad that he deserved this kind of verbal abuse? But again, you stayed silent.

“Donovan, why don’t you worry about the earring you left behind at Anderson’s house last night instead of wasting your limited intellect attempting to insult me. It must have fallen off while you were, what’s the right excuse this time, doing the washing up? A vital meeting perhaps? Or maybe Anderson didn’t even bother to give his wife an excuse this time. Greg, I really do think you should reconsider the kind of ignoramuses you allow at Scotland Yard. As for the case, it was the brother, I’ll email you the details.”

That was when he turned to you, making you stand a little straighter as he studied your face. He took a few steps closer until he was stood right in front of you, before starting to speak more quietly in his baritone voice.

“And you.” He paused for a few seconds.

“Maybe you shouldn’t listen to everything Donovan and Anderson tell you.” Looking towards them and then back at you once more, he left. The silence in the room was palpable, and before you knew what you were doing, you followed him outside.

“Wait!” You called, before he could hail a taxi. He stopped trying to wave one down, but still stood facing away from you. Stopping beside him, you could only think of one thing to say.

“Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.” You looked up at his face, a face of unmoving stone.

“Maybe I am.” He sounded almost dejected by this point, the confident bravado he’d had inside the house gone, hidden behind something else.

This wasn’t the man that was described to you; this man was clearly astoundingly intelligent, could read people as if all their secrets were laid out in front of him and had a wickedly fast wit. It became no wonder to you why he was disliked so much by certain members of the team, but you began to realise that most of the animosity stemmed from jealousy. You had judged him before meeting him, and felt instantly guilty.

“Even if you’re not right about it being the brother…” you saw him roll his eyes and shake his head at you a little, making you stop in your tracks to do the same at him, amused. “…you are right about one thing.”

“And what might that be?” He asked you, a fleck of sarcasm lacing his voice.

“I think I need to stop listening to Donovan and Anderson.” You couldn’t help breaking out into a smile, and when you looked up at him again, he was doing the same, expelling air from his nose, a slight laugh on his lips.

As he stuck out his arm for a passing taxi, it began to slow to a stop. But before he got in, he turned to face you properly, raising his hand for you to finally shake.

“It was a pleasure to meet you Y/N.’

“You too, Mr Holmes.”

“Please, call me Sherlock.” You couldn’t help the small smile on your face, and neither could he.

He held your gaze for a few more moments, that slight frown once again appearing on his face, before shaking himself out of whatever he had been caught in. Nodding and releasing your hand, he climbed into the taxi, and was gone.

[go-imagine-it]

Prompt Requests!

Hey guys I got super bored so here is a prompt list, I don’t have any time limits for this one so just request them if you want whenever! Also feel free to use these for you’re own blogs!

1. Go to hell” 2. “Fuck You” 3. "Fuck me!” 4. “Fuck” 5. "I’m so happy I could kiss you” 6. "Forever?” …"Forever!” 7. "Sorry I’m late” 8. "I’m so sorry…” 9. "Why me?” 10. "Stop it!” 11. "Don’t you dare!” 12. "Truth or Dare?’ 13. "Do you trust me?” …"Always” 14. "Don’t you trust me?” 15. "What? Didn’t see that coming?” 16. "Please come home safe…” 17. "I can’t lose you, Not again…” 18. "Take it out on me…” 19. "What happened?” 20. "Have you been crying?” 21. "I always know” 22. "It’s midnight, what do you want?” 23. "Kiss me” 24. "Why?” 25. ”Son of a bitch” 26. "How are you?” 27. "Where have you been?” 28. "I swear” 29. "You don’t need to be demanding” 30. "I need a strong drink and some pain killers” 31. "This is the end, isn’t it?” 32. "I miss you” 33. "See you at home” 34. "You, me, bed now” 35. "Care to explain?” 36. "Can we please_____” 37. "For the love of god” 38. "We can never catch a break can we?” 39. "Now, where’s the fun in that?” 40. "Do me a favour? Stand back.” 41. "Stand down” 42. "Hold me” 43. "You better hope my mom doesn’t find out” 44. "Where are we?” 45. "Did you even look at a map?” 46. "Hallelujah” 47. "Is that blood?” 48. “Do you want me to leave?” 49. "I swear it won’t happen again.” 50. "I’m not jealous.” 51. "You can’t keep doing this.” 52. "I’m going to take care of you, okay?” 53. "You can’t die. Please don’t die.” 54. "You did what?!” 55. "Were you ever going to tell me?” 56. "Don’t ask me that.” 57. "Say it!” 58. "I could kiss you right now!” 59. "Are you still awake…?” 60. "Excuse you?” 61. "This is all your fault!” 62. "I shouldn’t be in love with you.” 63. "I could kill you right now!” 64. "Just admit I’m right.” 65. "That doesn’t even make sense.” 66. "That’s irrational.” 67. "Just pretend to be my date.” 68. "Are you really going to leave without asking me the question you’ve been dying to ask me?” 69. "When you love someone, you don’t just stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy… even then. Especially then!” 70. "I think I’ve been holding myself from falling in love with you all over again.” 71. "I’m not going to apologise for this. Not anymore.” 72. "That’s almost exactly the opposite of what I meant.” 73. "It must be hard with your sense of direction, never being able to find your way to a decent pickup line.” 74. "Can I sit here? The other tables are full.” 75. "You weren’t supposed to laugh!” 76. "This is, by far, the dumbest thing you’ve ever done.” 77. "I’m not going to stop poking you until you give me some attention.” 78. "Before I do this, I need you to know that I have always loved you.” 79. "Did I say that out loud?” 80. "Do you think you could have loved me?” 81. "Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.” 82. "How long have you been standing there?” 83. "Have I ever lied to you?” 84. "Have you lost your fucking mind?” 85. "I am not losing you again!” 86. "I had a nightmare about you and I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” 87. "When I picture myself happy… It’s with you.” 88. "I made a mistake.” 89. "I may be an idiot, but I’m your idiot.” 90. "I see the way you look at me when you think I’m not looking.” 91. "I think I’m in love with you and that scares me half to death.” 92. "I’m not good enough for you.” 93. "I fell in love with my best friend.” 94. "I’m sorry, what? I keep getting lost in your eyes.” 95. "I’m up to the challenge.” 96. "I’m yours.” 97. "If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me.” 98. "If you go anywhere near them, you’ll have to deal with me!” 99. "It’s okay to cry…” 100. "Talk to me.” 101. "Look at me—just breathe, okay?” 102. "Look, I don’t have much time, but I wanted to say I love you.” 103. "Well, this is where I live.” 104. "What are you afraid of?” 105. "You are the single best thing that has ever happened to me.” 106. "You deserve so much better.” 107. "You don’t have to stay.” 108. "You don’t know you the way I do.” 109. "You fainted, straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes.” 110. "You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.” 111. "You shouldn’t have even been there!” 112. "You weren’t supposed to hear that.” 113. "You’re safe now. I’ve got you.” 114. "Teach me?” 115. "We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you want to stop and feel the rain?” 116. "Looks like we’ll be stuck here for a while.” 117. "Just once.” 118. "I can’t believe you talked me into this.” 119. "It’s not what it looks like.” 120. "I got you a present.” 121. "Hey! I was gonna eat that!” 122. "See, now, what that so bad?” 123. “You’re the best part of me.” 124. "I don’t want to think about what I’d be like without you.” 125. "Can I hold your hand?” 126. "It’s a real shame nobody asked for your opinion.” 127. "What time is it?” 128. "Just wait a second.” 129. "Here, let me.” 130. "You’re so cute when you pout like that.” 131. "I don’t care what they said, it doesn’t mean shit!” 132. "This isn’t gonna end well!” 133. "Did you enjoy yourself last night?” 134. "Are you kidding me? We’re not ‘fine’!” 135. “You’ve only heard his side of the story. You never asked for mine.” 136. "Oh my God! You’re in love with him/her!” 137. "You make me feel like I’m not good enough.” 138. "For some reason I’m attracted to you.” 139. "I am not losing you again.” 140. "Why don’t they just kiss already?” 141. Why do you keep pushing me away?” 142. "I can’t explain right now, but I need you to trust me.” 143. I’ve never felt this way before….and it scares the shit out of me.” 144. "Don’t fucking touch me!” 145. "Are you really taking his side against me?” 146. "Wait a second are you jealous?” 147. "I wish I could hate you.” 148. "Come over here and make me.” 149. "This is by far the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.” 150. "You’re the only one I trust to do this.” 151. "I thought you were dead.” 152. "This isn’t just about you. It’s about what’s best for all of us.” 153. "I love you, you asshole.” 154. "You did this for me?” 155. "You can’t protect me.” 156. "You know I wouldn’t do this if I had any other choice.” 157. "I’m so stupid to make the mistake of falling in love with my best friend.” 158. "The way you flirt is shameful/shameless.” 159. “I just wanted an easy day with my girlfriend/boyfriend. What’s so wrong with that?” 160. "Go then, leave! See if I care!” 161. "You braided his hair?” 162. "Have you lost your damn mind?!” 163. "Please don’t argue. You have to leave right now, you aren’t safe here.” 164. "I’m not surprised that you murdered him.” 165. Am I supposed to be scared of you?” 166. "Is that what you’re doing? Trying to make me to hate you?” 167. "If he’s going to treat you like shit I’m going to kick his ass.” 168. "You’re hiding something from me.” 169. "You better have a good reason for waking me up at the ass-crack of dawn.” 170. "I don’t know what I did to deserve you.” 171. "Don’t you dare to ever do that again!” 172. "Man, you are a dream come true.” 173. "Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.” 174. "I made a mistake.” 175. "H-How long have you been standing there?” 176. "Is the skirt is supposed to be this short?” 177. “This is why you don’t ever have any shirts to wear.” 178. "Please, don’t give up on me.” 179. "When are you going to realize that I don’t care?” 180. "Those things you said in there… Did you mean them?” 181. "I know that you have reached a decision, but given that it is a stupid ass decision I have elected to ignore it” 182. "Who gave you that black eye?!” 183. "What the hell are you doing here?! I told you I never wanted to see you again!” 184. "I’m sorry, what were you saying? I keep getting lost in your eyes.” 185. "It’s okay baby, I’m here for you.” 186. "You say the nastiest things when you’re angry, so yes, I’m walking away from you now. 187. "I’m starting an idiot jar. Any time you do or say anything idiotic, you have to put at least a dollar in it—more depending on how stupid the thing that you said or did was.” 188. "You haven’t even touched your food. What’s going on?” 189. "If you don’t want to talk about what happened, then say so. Don’t just lie and say it’s fine.” 190. "Don’t you dare say you love me!” 191. “It’s a hobby of mine to prove you wrong.” 192. "I swear I didn’t mean to touch your butt.” 193. "Why are you wearing my shirt? Please, don’t take it off. It looks good on you.” 194. "enjoying the view?” 195. "go on, just leave! that’s what everyone does anyway.” 196. "who did this to you?” 197. "that’s a bad idea.”"name a better idea, then.” 198. "quick, kiss me.” 199. "you’re such a distraction.” 200. "i’m doing this to protect you.” 201. "get the fuck back to sleep, (y/n).” 202. "we’re not dating— ugh whatever.” 203. "i can’t let anything happen to you.” 204. "i leave for just a minute and this happens!” 205. "what? i thought you two were a thing.”