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[mochiusagifanficchaos]

Sherlock x Mute!Reader •Part 7•

Metal crashed against metal as you yanked wildly at the handcuff around your wrist until you felt warm blood running down your ice-cold hand.

Silently sobbing you sank back on the bed. The sudden lack of noise made the dark room even scarier.

How have you ended here? What happened and why the hell can't you remember?!

These thoughts got stuck in your head, drove a rollercoaster, and made you feel sick.

Helpless you tried to remember what had happened, tried to puzzle everything together but the last thing you remember was going to bed alone in your flat.

Alone.

The word echoed in your head.

Something in the back of your mind told you that this wasn't right.

There was this feeling, this feeling of being watched. You had it right before you fell asleep.

Suddenly you remember that something was being pressed on your face. You couldn't breathe anymore and smelled something sweet. Panicking you had woken up and saw someone standing next to your bed. He was pressing you down and covered your mouth and nose with a piece of cloth.

It was Jonathan.

You screamed inside your head, wanted to punch yourself for your stupidity of trusting a man you barely knew instead of trusting Sherlock.

Your eyes darted to your left as a door was opened with a loud squeaking sound and bright blue light fell into the room.

A man was standing in the frame and threw a large shadow on the ground.

"Finally awake?", a deep voice asked with a sarcastic undertone and his heavy steps resounded through the room as he walked towards you.

"Oh, it was so easy to twist you around my little finger", he hummed as he tugged on his black curls, pulling down the wig from his head and revealing short blonde hair.

He chuckled as he saw the scared look on your face.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'm not gonna harm you.", Jonathan pulled a phone out of his pockets and stood there for a while, typing something, before he sat beside you on the bed and turned the camera on, holding the phone away so that you both were visible on the screen.

"As long as Sherlock does what I want."

"Let's play a game, Sherlock.", the man in the video said and grinned evilly.

Watson heard this sentence for at least the 20th time in a row now since Sherlock kept restarting the video which he received 10 minutes ago on his phone.

"Watching it over and over again won't get (y/n) back here.", Mycroft said, trying to bring his little brother back to his senses but Sherlock completely ignored him, restarting the video again.

Annoyed Watson stood up from his chair and snatched the phone out of Sherlock's hand: "That's enough now."

"I should've stayed with her.", Sherlock mumbled under his breath and ran his hands over his face, his black shirt stretched over his back and arms as every muscle in his body tensioned.

Suddenly he stood up and threw his hands in the air: "For god's sake I should've stayed with her!"

"It's not your fault.", Watson tried to calm him down, shook from his unusual behavior.

"Don't fool yourself, Watson, of course, it is! That lunatic is just kidnapping her because of me."

On Sherlock's phone popped up a message from an unknown number and Watson gave it back to Sherlock. He swiftly opened it, just to nearly drop it as he saw the content of the message.

It was a picture of you sitting on the bed, a blanket half over your shoulders and your right hand was laid over the left. It was dark but Sherlock still noticed the handcuffs and the bloody strains underneath them on your skin. Your hair was parted to both sides of your face and you had a smile on your face. A forced smile, your lips were curled up but your eyes showed fear.

The phone rang loudly and Watson jumped.

Sherlock answered the call with a cold expression.

"Such a pretty girl, don't you think?", the man on the other side chuckled darkly.

Sherlock's hand tightened around his cellphone: "Don't you dare to touch her.", his voice had a deadly sound and even Watson needed to gulp since he never heard him talk like this.

"Oh, I won't, what are you thinking of me? But you should hurry.", the man made a dramatic pause. "It's getting really cold in here."

He chuckled again before he hung up.

Slowly Sherlock lowered his hand with the phone and stared blankly out of the window.

Watson didn't dare to speak and waited for Sherlock to tell him what was up, but he stayed silent and the only noise was the beeping of the disconnected phone call.

Without a word, Sherlock turned around, threw his coat over and rushed with fast and heavy steps past Microft and Watson and down the stairs. Watson followed him to the street and just about made it into the cab in which Sherlock had hopped in.

"Where are we going?", Watson asked as the car started driving.

"The national gallery."

Your shaking ice-cold fingers were wrapped around each other, your knees were tugged under your chin and your arms were pressed at your body to keep the warmth inside.

Your teeth silently chattering was the only sound in the room, beside the rattles of your handcuffs around the bed frame sometimes when you shifted your weight.

Jonathan had left you alone hours ago, he said that he needed to prepare something for Sherlock and you were scared of what he had planned, scared of what he might do to him.

His evil laugh still echoed in your head and made you shiver more than the cold air around you.

"If you're ever scared, my love, then count to three and think of me, count to ten and think of a friend, count to a hundred and your fear will be tamed"

You remembered your mum saying this to you whenever you were scared after what had happened to you as a child. After you lost your voice.

Warm tears rolled over your cheeks as you counted to three and thought of her smile and laugh, her warm embrace and her soft voice.

More and more tears rolled down your cheeks and you began sobbing as you thought about Sherlock.

1

Thought about him taking care of you on the day you had burned your hand in the café.

2

Thought about this proud smile he had on his face when you kept the keys for the register.

3

You remembered the day when he got you out of the hospital to eat some chips together.

4

And then took a ride with you on the London Eye. You knew that he had watched you and had a smile on his face as he saw you being so amazed by the night view.

5

You thought about the days you had tried to ignore and allure him since he wouldn't talk to you about the case and ended up being followed by a slightly sad and jealous Sherlock. Now you were sure that he hadn't understood his own feelings at this time and probably was really confused why you made him feel like this.

You chuckled slightly. When you would get out of here alive you would try to seduce him even more, you loved the look on his face when he was too confused about his own feelings.

6

The picture of you sitting on Sherlock's lap, both of you sleeping, popped up in your mind.

This was the moment you got aware of that you really loved him. You never felt so safe and like home before, then in his arms.

The thought of this brought a warm feeling back and you noticed that you had stopped sobbing and shivering.

7

You remembered him entering the café after not having seen or heard from him for over three months and that smile that crawled on his face as he saw you.

8

He had pulled you in this tight hug instead of saying hello and made your heart melt.

9

A loud bang ripped you out of your thoughts and brought you back to the dark and cold reality.

You held your breath and listened to if there were any other noises but everything remained silent.

Just as you gave up on listening a bright light suddenly flooded the room and you had to cover your eyes, pressing your face into the stinky mattress.

Blinking you tried to get used to the lack of darkness and it took you some seconds to see the big tv on the opposite wall.

It showed Sherlock and Watson who just came running into a big white room with paintings on the walls and you immediately noticed that it was a room from the national gallery.

"Will you tell me now why we needed to go here?", Watson asked out of breath as he watched Sherlock examining every painting in the big room.

"The picture.", Sherlock just answered and walked into the next room. "He made her look like the Mona Lisa and where do we usually find paintings?"

"The national gallery", Watson sighted.

Suddenly Sherlock's phone rang and he hesitated for a second to pick up.



"Where's (y/n)?", he asked straight out.

"Oh Sherlock, I'm not gonna make it so easy for you. Don't you remember that I wanted to play a game?", the voice on the other side said with amusement.

Sherlock tried hard to keep a straight face: "I already solved your little puzzle to get here and I don't want to keep on playing."

A loud laugh suddenly echoed out of the speakers from every corner of the room and Watson whirled around.

"If you don't want to play the game then you won't be able to safe (y/n). Aren't you having fun? I thought you liked puzzles, Sherlock."

The voice filled the room with a dangerous atmosphere.

Sherlock remained silent, grinding his teeth.

"I see, good choice.", the voice chuckled. "You know, I'll give you something to think about: she's here, somewhere, and I already told you where."

Sherlock narrowed his eyebrows, he couldn't think of anything right now, the feeling of fear for you had crawled into him and wouldn't let go anymore.

He took a deep breath and placed his hands in a praying position to his lips.

His eyes darted fast over the paintings on the wall to find anything that would show him where you were captured.

But he couldn't find anything.

"There got to be something!", Sherlock muttered and ruffled his hand through his hair in frustration.

A chuckle echoed out of the speakers again: "Oh Sherlock, don't make it so hard for yourself. I said that I already told you where she is."

Sherlock stopped in his actions and his eyes widened.

"Stupid!", he suddenly scoffed. "My god, Watson, why didn't we notice that earlier?"

"What? What didn't we notice earlier? Sherlock!"; Watson shouted after Sherlock who already ran down the hall.

A swear escaped Watson as he chased after Sherlock's flapping coat...

Next chapter will be up next weekend!

Thank you all so much for reading and your nice comments 🥺 ❤

Tag list ❤

@misselsbells06 @fictionalhoomanofnowhere @a-paper-cut @viviace

[mochiusagifanficchaos]

Sherlock xMute!Reader •Part 6•

You turned around in your sleep, trying to not lose the cool dream you just had and to dream on.

But something was off and kept you from drifting off into your wonderful dream world again.

It smelled different, nasty, like iron and dirt and your hand hurt.

There was something cold around your wrist.

Startled you opened your heavy eyelids and tried to sit up but a sudden wave of pain rushed in your head and made you feel dizzy.

You narrowed your eyes to make the dizzy feeling go away before you opened them again.

It was pitch black around you, you couldn't even see your own hand before your face and something around your left hand stopped you from getting up from the mattress you were sitting on.

Scared you felt for the thing around your wrist.

It was a handcuff. You are handcuffed to something.

Panicking you wildly yanked at the handcuff, trying to get it off.

But it was no use. You just hurt yourself by bruising your wrist even more.

              ------- 1 week ago ------

"Waiter!", someone from the other side of the cafe shouted, holding his hand in the air and waving widely.

Sighing you grabbed your big black wallet from the counter and the sales check, knowing that he probably wanted to pay. As you walked over you heard the bells of the door and from the corner of your eye, you saw a tall man in a long coat entering the cafe. You first mistook him for Sherlock but quickly realized that it wasn't him as the man pulled down the wet hood from his head, ruffling through his messy black hair to get the raindrops out of it.

He flashed you a bright smile as he noticed you staring at him.

Blushing slightly you returned the smile before turning back to the customer, handing him out the sales check.

He tipped you and left the cafe with the women who had set with him on the table.

Swiftly you cleaned the table and brought the two cups back to the kitchen.

While washing the cups, your thoughts drifted off to Sherlock again. You thought about him often but lately he never really got the time to visit you at work. He jumped head over heels from case to case and when he was at your cafe, he barely noticed you, being too caught up in a case he was working on.

Right now he was in Germany, he followed the trace of a "big fish", as Watson called it, and you haven't seen or heard from him for two months.

Hopefully, you checked your phone. Your screen lit up and showed the picture, which Watson did some month ago, of you and Sherlock cuddling. But there was no message from Sherlock.

Sighing again you pushed your phone back in your pocket.

You felt silly. You fell in love with a man who was known for not having any kind of sentimental feelings.

The thought that he probably didn't even care about you as much as you cared for him got stuck in your head and pulled your mood down for weeks.

"Is everything okay?", a deep voice suddenly asked and you flinched.

You looked at the man beside you startled after being pulled out of your thoughts before nodding a few times.

The man was the person you had first mistaken for Sherlock some minutes ago, he smiled warmly at you and had his hands in the pockets of his coat.

Now, fully back, in reality, you noticed that he was standing in the kitchen, the place where no customer should be so you quickly pushed him out.

He looked at you a little confused but chuckled: "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you."

You waved your hand slightly to show him that it's okay, but he just looked at you even more confused.

'I can't talk', you wrote on a side of the little notebook you always had with you and showed it to him.

"Oh! I'm sorry.", the man apologized kindly. "Uhm, I just wanted to get you because some customers have shouted for you and you have been back there for over 20 minutes so..."

Over 20 minutes? You could have sworn that it has only been a couple of minutes. Puzzled you looked at the clock on the wall above you. He was right.

The man laid his hand on your shoulder and bend down to you a little: "Are you sure that everything is alright?"

You slowly nodded your head again, even though you were clearly not okay.

Smiling widely at him you tried to overact the fact how worked out and emotionally drained you were.

Taking a deep breath you walked over to the few customers, taking their orders and collecting the money.

It was 19 o clock and about time to close the cafe. All the customers had already left, beside the man in the coat. He was still sitting on the table on which Sherlock used to sit and sipped on his third coffee.

With a smile, you placed the sales check on his table and pointed to the clock to tell him that he needed to go.

"Oh, sorry.", he laughed nervously and gave you the money plus a big tip "Thank you for the coffee".

The man grabbed his coat from the chair and waved you goodbye before leaving the cafe.

Panting you placed the broom back in the storeroom, grabbed your jacket and donned it.

The cold air crawled under the thin fabric of your clothes as you stepped outside and closed the door of the cafe, locking it.

Shivering you pulled the scarf closer to your face.

"Hey-", a voice next to you suddenly said and you jumped in shock, letting the key from your hand fall to the ground.

The man in front of you knelt down to pick the key up and placed it back in your hand.

"I'm so sorry!", he apologized. It was the man from before with the coat again.

Disappointment grew inside of you, your heart ached for Sherlock and you saw him in every person who looked similar.

You tried to smile at the man and gulped the feeling down.

"I think I forgot my phone at your cafe, so I ran back in the hope that you would still be there.", he explained and scratched his head, laughing embarrassed.

Huffing amused you opened the door again and gestured him to follow you.

Quickly you got two phones you found today out of the little safe and showed them to him.

He picked the black one and checked if it was still working.

"Thank you so much, you just saved me.", he said laughing and put his phone in the pocket of his coat.

"My name is Jonathan by the way."

Smiling you shook his hand and pulled your notebook out to write your name on it.

"(Y/n), beautiful name.", Jonathan complimented. "May I take you home? It's already pretty late and I think it's safer for you if I accompany you."

You had agreed to him taking you home, and he did, talking a lot to you about everything he could think of.

Jonathan came often from now on, nearly every day he sat there, drank a coffee or two and talked to you whenever you had time for him before walking you home in the evening again.

You both exchanged numbers and wrote for hours in the night.

He made you happy and brought this warm feeling back.

He made you forget about Sherlock.

The doorbell rang while you were humming your favorite song inside your head.

You looked up to see who just entered the cafe and nearly dropped the empty glass in your hand.

His wild brown locks hang on his face.

His grey coat all wet from the rain outside.

And his blue-green eyes searched for something in the room.

As they met yours, they stopped searching and a small smile appeared on his lips.

Tears swell up in your eyes. Tears of happiness and tears of anger.

You couldn't decide if you wanted to slap him for not having heard a word of him for 3 months or if you wanted to hug him.

"Is everything okay?", Jonathan next to you suddenly asked and laid his hand on your shoulder, worried.

Sherlock narrowed his eyebrows, he eyed Jonathan up and down and instantly had a bad feeling about him. He didn't know what it was, but he didn't like that guy.

Without thinking Sherlock grabbed your hand and pulled you into a tight hug, pressing you against his chest.

You couldn't see it but Jonathan stared with poor evil in his eyes into Sherlock's.

He looked mad, really mad and only Sherlock saw it.

The doorbell rang again and you peeled yourself out of Sherlock's warm embrace, even though you wanted to stay like this for the next couple of days.

Watson had entered the cafe and smiled at you warmly, giving you a quick and tight hug as a greeting.

You turned around to Sherlock again and saw how Jonathan held his hand out but Sherlock didn't shake it, he just stared at him blankly with his hands in the pockets of his coat.

"I think he's jealous.", Watson whispered into your ear and you giggled.

It really looked like this from your point of view, but in reality, Sherlock was just analyzing Jonathan. He tried to read him.

And he could. Easily. Too easily.

It was as if someone had placed the right hints at the right places, it wasn't natural.

Middle-aged man.

Lives alone, his shirt and trousers are crumbled.

Likes coffee, a coffee stain on his shirt.

Not much money, his coat is old, the color washed out and the sleeves are fringe.

He's a smoker, yellowing of the teeth and between the index and middle finger.

Annoyed Sherlock looked away. Jonathan was too easy to read and too friendly to you.

A little forcefully he pulled you out of the cafe, Watson following you both, wondering about what was going on.

"He's dangerous.", Sherlock told you while holding you by your shoulders. "Something about him isn't right. He tries too hard to make you like him, with all this perfume and the outfit, trying to look like me. You should stay away from him."

Watson laughed at Sherlock's words and you joined him, your shoulders shaking in amusement.

"Are you jealous, Sherlock?", Watson asked mockingly and got an angry look from him.

"I mean it, Watson! Something is off, he's too easy to read and-"

Smiling you ruffled through Sherlock's hair and kissed him on the cheek, to show him that he doesn't need to worry before you walked inside the cafe again.

"(Y/n)!", Sherlock shouted after you but you had already closed the door behind you.

Angry and frustrated he ran his hand over his face and into his hair.

Watson patted him on the shoulder: "I knew that you are also just human."

He left him alone in front of the cafe and walked down the street to their apartment.

Worried Sherlock bit his underlip and gulped his frustration down.

He felt helpless.

You didn't take Sherlock's "warning" seriously and let Jonathan walk you home again.

He was too nice to be a bad guy, Sherlock was probably just jealous or maybe just a little paranoid after all those cases and everything that had happened to you.

Jonathan wished you a good night as he dropped you off at your home and you hurried to get in your bed, under your warm blanket since you were exhausted.

Cuddling into your blanket you slowly drifted off into a deep sleep with a smile on your face, thinking of Sherlock.

You turned around in your sleep, trying to not lose the cool dream you just had and to dream on.

But something was off and kept you from drifting off into your wonderful dream world again.

It smelled different, nasty, like iron and dirt and your hand hurt.

There was something cold around your wrist.

Startled you opened your heavy eyelids and tried to sit up but a sudden wave of pain rushed in your head and made you feel dizzy.

You narrowed your eyes to make the dizzy feeling go away before you opened them again.

It was pitch black around you, you couldn't even see your own hand before your face and something around your left hand stopped you from getting up from the mattress you were sitting on.

Scared you felt for the thing around your wrist.

It was a handcuff. You were handcuffed to something.

Panicking you wildly yanked at the handcuff, trying to get it off.

But it was no use. You just hurt yourself by bruising your wrist even more.

New chapter will be up next weekend!

Hope you liked this one and thank you for reading 🥰

My Wattpad: @/lilakudo

Tag list ❤️ @misselsbells06 @fictionalhoomanofnowhere @a-paper-cut

[mochiusagifanficchaos]

Sherlock x Mute!Reader •Part 5•

It's been three weeks now since the incident with the shooter at the London Eye, you just got out of the hospital and your boss finally allowed you to work at the cafe again, after hours of begging and doing puppy eyes.

Sherlock and Watson kept visiting you at the hospital and while your shift at the cafe and Watson updated you about the case as good as he could since the shooter turned out to be one of the Clown guys.

Lestrade had questioned him and found traces from the blacklight color on his hands, the color you and Sherlock prepared the register with before it got robbed.

But you didn't know much more about the case because Sherlock kept close about it, Watson told you that he would always do that but it still annoyed you.

And since you took the case very personally you decided to threaten Sherlock until he told you everything he knew.

He sat on his usual table again, reading the newspapers and Watson sitting in front of him, studying the menu, but you already knew that he would order, just the same as every time.

You took his order with a smile and turned around again without even looking at Sherlock, showing him the cold shoulder, which irritated Watson but he didn't say anything.

With a sweet smile on your lips, you placed a plate with spaghetti in front of Watson a few minutes later, without Sherlock's usual unordered tea in your hand.

Watson looked at you startled because of your behavior towards Sherlock, but the detective himself seemed to stay unimpressed about it, which made you even more annoyed.

After a few days of totally ignoring Sherlock and getting no reaction at all from him, you decided to use a different method.

You didn't know how and if Sherlock would react to it at all but it was worth a try.

The next morning you came to the cafe in a short skirt and a white, slightly see-through blouse.

You wore, not so high, high heels and your hair was tied into a ponytail.

The rest was just the usual routine, ignoring Sherlock and being extra nice to Watson and other customers.

At first, you got disappointed again because he still didn't seem to react to your play at all but then you actually got a glimpse of him staring at you when he thought you weren't looking.

You cheered at yourself inside 'Never underestimate the weapons of a woman!'

What you didn't notice this day were all the eyes on you from the other customers, some basically undressing you with their staring.

------------time skip to after work-----------

The cold air crawled under your thin jacket as you locked the door from the cafe.

It got pretty late this time since you needed to wash away so many dishes because the winding machine wasn't working at the moment.

Shivering you led the key slide into your pocket and crossed your arms, hugging yourself to keep your body warm while you walked down the street.

Suddenly you heard footsteps behind you, they sounded heavy and came closer.

Scared you took a random street and walked faster, but you could still hear them.

You took another and another random street until you ended up on a dead-end road.

Afraid you slowly turned around.

A tall man in a long coat walked straight towards you with fast steps.  He got closer and closer and with every step he did, you stepped one back.

Until you hit the wall with your back.

"Why are you ignoring me?", the man suddenly asked and you immediately recognized his voice.

You could see his face now, he looked down at you with an empty expression but you could swear that there was a glim of sadness in his eyes.

"You shouldn't be walking around like this. It's dangerous in the night and at the café, everyone was staring at you.", Sherlock said as he took off his coat and laid it around your shoulders, closing the buttons.

You blushed deeply and your feelings were driving a roller coaster of being angry at him, loving him, being annoyed of him, and thinking of him as the sweetest man you ever met.

"So why are you ignoring me? Did I do something wrong or do you just want my attention?"

Secretly it was also because you wanted the attention but you would never admit that.

Now at this moment, you wished that you had learned sign language.

Back then you thought that no one would understand it anyway so why learn it but now it could have really helped you to talk to Sherlock.

With an annoyed expression, you pointed at him and then at yourself, forming the word 'case' with your mouth.

Then you pointed at Sherlock again, did a hand motion as if you would close your mouth like a zipper, and laid your hands over your ears, looking around like you wouldn't hear anything.

"Because I didn't tell you about my researches about the case?", Sherlock asked to know if he got that right and you nodded, still angry.

He sighed: "So that's all? That's why I didn't get my beloved tea from you anymore for a week?"

Huffing you crossed your arms in front of your chest.

But he couldn't hide a smile, you looked just too adorable in his coat which completely covered your frame.

Sherlock was silent for a moment, thinking about something before he answered softly: "I'm sorry (y/n)."

You were surprised by the tone of his voice since you have never heard him talk to anyone like this before.

"Let's go home and I'll tell you everything I know. But only if you make me tea."

You huffed amused and nodded as a response.

Sherlock had his arm around your shoulders the entire time as he walked you home to his apartment.

Watson wasn't there, he was with Marry, so you could sit on his chair, holding a hot cup of tea and wearing a pajama from Sherlock, enjoying the warmth of the fire in the fireplace as Sherlock told you about his researches.

It was one of the best evenings you ever had, you felt protected and just happy.

"I missed your tea.", Sherlock suddenly said as he noticed you drifting off to sleep.

You smiled at him before your tired eyelids closed again.

You felt how he lifted you up from the chair, bringing you to his bed.

He laid you down and covered you with the blanket, whispering a goodnight before you fell asleep.

You woke up in the middle of the night, panting and shivering.

It was this nightmare again, the nightmare about the clown guys.

They hunted you in your dreams and this time they even shoot at you.

Warm tears ran down your cheeks as you hugged your knees to your chest and buried your face in your hands, whimpering silently.

You looked around to calm yourself down and remembered that you were in Sherlock's bedroom.

Carefully you felt as if someone was laying beside you but the bed was empty.

Of course. Sherlock wouldn't sleep next to you.

But you so much wished he would. Especially now you craved a hug from him or just a touch to make you feel better.

Silently you stood up and walked on your tiptoes into the living room to see if Sherlock was there.

And he was, sitting on his armchair and staring into the fire.

He looked up as you slowly walked over to him.

"Nightmare?", he asked and looked at you concerned, probably having noticed your wet cheeks.

You just nodded and looked down, your fingers playing with the hem of the too big pajama shirt from Sherlock which you were wearing.

"Come here.", he said and gestured you to sit on his lap.

Hesitantly you walked over to him and sat down on his legs.

With a quick movement, he lifted your legs up and placed them on the armrest so that you were sitting bridal style on top of him.

You rested your head on his chest as you tried to cover the dark red blush on your face.

Did this really just happen?

His heartbeat, the way he stroked with his hand over your back and the warmth of the fire calmed you down and it didn't take you long to drift off into sleep again.

Watson walked in very early and found you and Sherlock, well, cuddling. You were still sitting on his lap, sleeping calmly and Sherlock's head rested on yours, his arms protectively around you.

Watson couldn't believe the sight and quickly took a picture of you two before sneaking down the stairs again to get Mrs. Hudson.

She needed to see this.

Mrs. Hudson giggled like a schoolgirl as she saw you both and Sherlock flinched, waking up from his nap.

I

"Have I missed something important?", Watson mockingly asked as Sherlock lifted his head and looked tardily at the two chuckling persons in front of him.

Fun fact: I keep forgetting that the reader is mute and let her talk in nearly every chapter until I notice it and then I have to somehow put the words into actions or else. 😂

This chapter is pretty story irrelevant but I thought some fluff between all this action and danger would be good :')

My Wattpad: @/lilakudo

Tag list ❤️ @misselsbells06 @fictionalhoomanofnowhere

[mochiusagifanficchaos]

Sherlock x Mute!Reader •Part 4•

You didn't need to wait long to get into the London Eye, there weren't many people tonight to visit it, especially because of the cold weather.

The gondola squeaked as you stepped inside and sat down on one of the red benches, turning towards the window behind you.

You watched the people below you getting smaller as the London Eye started moving, shaking slightly.

The higher you got the more you could see from London's skyline, the beautiful lights reflecting on the calm water of the Themes.

Amazed you pressed your nose against the cold glass.

You couldn't see it but Sherlock was smiling as he watched you admiring the new view of London you got.

And he noticed how he wasn't analyzing you at all.

Not now.

He just wanted to remember the moment, without any observing and wanting to know what you thought, what had happened to you, or who exactly you were.

Just you and this moment.

Suddenly his mobile rang and caught the attention of you both.

Sherlock answered the phone, listened closely to what the other person was saying, and ended the phone call with an "I will be there in a few minutes."

You looked at him with a tilted head, wanting to know what's going on but he just waved his hand slightly.

"Just Lestrade, nothing too important."

The ride was nearly over so you sat back down on the bench next to him.

Just as you had gathered the bravery to lay your head on his shoulder, a loud bang sounded through the night air and the gondola stopped abruptly.

Sherlock jumped up and rushed to the opposite window, looking outside and searching for the source of the sound.

His gaze fell on a man who stood at the edge of the Themes, aiming a gun right at your gondola.

"Get down!", he yelled and threw himself on to you right as another gunshot echoed in the night.

Glass shattered and the gondola squeaked dangerously.

The hinges were slowly edging down and with a loud snapping sound, the gondola toppled over and forwards.

You and Sherlock were sliding down the dirty ground until you both hit the glass which immediately made a cracking sound.

Another gunshot hit the gondola and broke the glass between you and Sherlock.

With fear in your eyes, you looked at him, helplessly and with the hope that he would save you.

"We need to jump.", he said and looked down to check if the Themes wasn't too far away.

Now you looked at him even more scared and shook your head badly: 'Never!'

"Now is not the time to be a scaredy-cat!", Sherlock told you, grabbed your hand, and jumped.

You both fell and you were sure that if you still had your voice you would have screamed so loud that half London would have heard it.

But you couldn't, so the only thing you did was opening your mouth wide and waving with your arms like a maniac.

Luckily, the water wasn't too far away from where you jumped and the fall only took a few seconds, but just as your feet were about to dip in, Sherlock suddenly let go of your hand.

From the corner of your, you saw how he landed on the stone path next to the Themes, skilfully rolling off-

Before you hit the ice-cold water and had to squeeze your eyes shut.

Within seconds your clothes and bandages were soaked wet, dragging you down.

Panicking you tried to swim back to the surface and to keep yourself up but your hurting shoulder made it nearly impossible.

Sherlock at the riverside jumped up from his fall and attacked the shooter who was already aiming with his gun at you again. One specific hit by him and the man was down, collapsing to the ground.

Fastly Sherlock undressed from his coat and kicked the gun out of the reach from the shooter before jumping into the cold water, swimming over to you.

He grabbed you by your wrist as he reached you and made you cling on to his shoulders before he swam back to the riverside.

With the help of a by-standing woman, he lifted you up so that you could crawl out of the water.

The woman urgently tried to find out what had happened, babbling question after question before Sherlock made her shut up rather rudely.

In the distance, you could already hear the police sirens which got louder and louder.

One of the bystanders must have called the police after hearing the gunshots.

Sherlock laid his big coat over your shoulders and set beside you, lying one arm around you to keep you warm: "It's fine now. Stop shivering, scaredy-cat."

Still in shock, you just rested your head on his shoulder and tried to calm your breathing.

The adrenaline slowly died down and made space for the pain from your injuries again.

You didn't even hear the police sirens and people talking and shouting behind you anymore, too worn out from everything that had happened in the last few days, not able to process all the events yet.

Some minutes later Lestrade hopped out of his car.

He and the other policemen tried to make the bystanders move further away from you two and Lestrade came over, asking Sherlock about what had happened, but you didn't really pay attention to their conversation.

All this still felt so unreal, like a dream. Like a nightmare that stuck in your bones and wouldn't go away.

Next chapter will be up next weekend 🥰

My Wattpad: @/lilakudo

Tag list ❤️ @misselsbells06

[mochiusagifanficchaos]

Sherlock x Mute!Reader •Part 3•

"You're not working on the case?"

You heard a silent voice, fading into your dream just like the answer: "I am working."

The voices got louder and you tardily woke up, opening your heavy eyelids, blinking the bright light from the room away.

It knocked and you heard a door being opened.

"Good evening Sherlock. Watson. I heard what happened. I wanted to inform you that there had been other armed raids from these two clown guys.

The one yesterday was the third one within two weeks and-"

He got cut off:" I know. I read the Newspaper."

Your gaze was still blurry and your thoughts messy so you didn't quite follow the conversation next to you.

You were too occupied trying to find out where you were and what happened.

'We need to get her to the hospital!'

The sentence popped up in your mind as you tried to puzzle the pieces of memories back together.

You remembered the screams, the doorbell, the gun.

The two men with those terrific flow masks and -

Sherlock.

Sherlock with a proud smile on his lips.

"What? But we didn't give the newspaper people any information! ", you've got thrown out of your thoughts and realized that this was Inspector Lestrade's voice.

"Well", the deep voice said and you knew it was Sherlock "Then someone of your staff leaked some information, obviously."

Your vision was got clear and you noticed the white walls and large white curtain in front of a window.

A hospital. Of course.

You knew these rooms and the smell too well, probably having slept in those rooms more often than in your own bedroom.

"By the way, (y/n) had luck. The clown criminals are known for killing everyone after their raids.

We don't know why they spared the people from the Speedy's Cafe."

You tilted your head to the right and looked at Sherlock who was sitting at the edge of your bed.

He noticed your gaze and spoke for you: "Because they heard a police siren and panicked."

Watson and Lestrade looked confused between you two.

For Sherlock and you, this was normal.

You both understood each other without a word, even though you weren't always quite sure how he understood what you meant.

"How did you-?", Watson started, narrowing his eyebrows but stopped, knowing that it had a simple answer.

"When criminals leave without following their usual movement it means that they had panicked because of something. And what could make them more panic than the police.", Sherlock answered in a cool voice.

All looked at you and you nodded.

"Plus, I heard the siren myself shortly before Watson and I found (y/n).", he added and got an eye roll from Warson as a response.

"Well,", Lestrade spoke: "I wanted to ask (y/n) about what had happened and if she could describe the men."

"I'm going to get some coffee. Anybody wants some?", Watson asked, not wanting to interfere with Lestrade's investigations

"One for me please.", Lestrade answered with a thankful nod.

"I don't need any.", Sherlock said and looked at you as Watson left the room: 'You want me to stay here?"

He didn't speak it out but you could read it out of his eyes.

You shook your head and smiled a little, you could deal with the inspector yourself.

Sherlock stood up from your bed and grabbed his coat which was hanging over a chair next to your bed: "I'll be outside if you need me, Inspector. "

"Sure."

As Sherlock closed the door Lestrade took a seat on the chair: "So (y/n), how are we going to do this?"

You grabbed a piece of paper with the menu on it and a pen from the nightstand, turning the paper and showing it to him, making him understand that you would write your answers.

Lestrade nodded: "Good. So what had happened? "

...time skip...

Sherlock and Watson had left the hospital with Inspector Lestrade an hour later to have a look at the corpses and you didn't know what to do.

Hospitals were always so boring and the food wasn't good either.

Without much interest you skipped through the TV program, only to look at arguing people, dumb kid series, and documentaries about how to build a house or something.

The little interest you paid got caught by a cartoon series you had often watched as a child.

It knocked and an old woman with a food tray came in.

She smiled at you and placed it on the little nightstand next to your bed.

You smiled back politely, trying to not breathe in the disgusting smell of the soup.

"Do you need anything, dear? ", the nurse asked and fixed your blanket.

You shook your head.

Don't you dare to feed me now, you thought and exhaled as the nurse left your room without saying another word.

You didn't even try the soup, you knew how it tasted and it wasn't very appealing.

Whining you tried to stand up. Your stomach cramped and your shoulder pained as you slowly made your way to the bathroom.

Carefully you undressed from the white hospital gown and looked at yourself in the small mirror.

You had a dark purple bruise on your stomach near your ribs, a bruise over your right eyebrow, and a bandage around your left shoulder.

Not to forget the patched-up burns at your hands and wrists.

Wincing you grabbed a towel and did a quick wash, wanting to get the smell of sweat and the hospital off of you.

Some minutes later you left the bathroom again with a towel loosely held in front of your bare chest to get your clothes.

You jumped in shock as you noticed Sherlock sitting on your bed.

"I brought you something to eat.", he answered and held up a bag of cookies.

You narrowed your eyebrows in confusion, pressing the towel against your chest.

"Not good?", Sherlock asked amused and you gave him a piece of paper: "Let us get something real to eat. I need to get out of here"

"But you should stay here for some more days."

You gave him your "oh come on" look and grabbed your clothes to change.

Some minutes later you and Sherlock were walking down the street next to the Themes with a big bag of chips in your hands.

While you were eating you looked up at the London Eye.

Since you were young you always wanted to take a ride and see the lights of the city from above.

Sherlock noticed your desiring looks at the big wheel and thought about buying tickets.

For some reason, he felt the urge to make you happy.

"Stay here. I'll be right back", he said and you did as he told you, trying to pick the last chip out of the paperback.

As he came back you saw the two tickets in his hands and smiled widely.

"Wanna take a ride?", he asked with a gentle voice and reached his hand out.

I know there isn't happening much in this chapter but I still hope you like it♥

Next Chapter up next weekend 🥰

My Wattpad: @/likakudo

[mochiusagifanficchaos]

Crowley x Reader • You look like you've gone through hell•

Trigger Warning: mentions abuse and violence

This is an older fanfic I wrote some years ago but I still like the plot, please forgive me my shitty writing from back than 😂

A door slammed loudly and woke you up, angry footsteps followed and something was thrown to the ground, shattering on the wooden floor.

You flinched and looked at your alarm clock on your nightstand with sleepy eyes: 2 o'clock in the morning...

The door to the bedroom was slammed open and you already knew what was going to happen.

Scared you hid under your blanket, acting as if you would sleep.

But your boyfriend didn't care about it. He grabbed you by your shoulder and pushed you out of the bed: "Make me something to eat!", he ordered as you whined because you had hit the nightstand with your shoulder.

Without a word you stood up and went downstairs in the kitchen, making a Peanut-butter-jelly sandwich and placing it on the table.

You heard your boyfriend stomping down the stairs and mentally prepared for whatever he might get angry with you again.

"Are you fucking kidding me?!", he yelled, pointing at the sandwich and threw the plate to the ground. "A sandwich?! I'm hungry and you dare to make me a sandwich?!"

With every word he walked nearer to you and was now standing right before you. You could smell the alcohol he had been drinking like every night and didn't dare to look him in the eyes. Angry he pushed you and you fell backward, hitting the oven behind you once again.

"Go and get me a pizza."

With tears in your eyes, you rushed into the bathroom. Your reflection in the mirror showed a pale girl with deep eye rings, bruises all over your body and a skeleton like build.

Tears swell up again as you saw yourself in such a bad state.

As tears rolled down your cheeks you asked yourself how it had come to this. When it had started that he hit you. When the good times had stopped. You sobbed and buried your face in your hands.

"(Y/N)!", you could hear him yelling out of the living room. "Go, now!"

Sniffing you pulled yourself together, wiping the tears away, put some makeup on and tied your hair into a messy bun before you walked out of the bathroom again.

Your boyfriend was sitting on the couch, watching some sort of porn and had another bottle of beer in his hand.

You opened the front door and the cool air hit you, immediately crawling under your t-shirt and sweatpants.

Shivering you walked through the empty streets, passing closed stores and full bars.

In front of one bar, you suddenly felt the urge to stop. You knew it wasn't a good idea to go drinking now since your boyfriend would beat the crap out of you when you come back in the morning but you didn't care right now. Determined you opened the door and walked straight to the counter, you sat down on one of the stools and studied the small menu, not sure what you wanted to order to drink yourself away.

"Two Whiskeys, please.", a deep voice next to you ordered and the next second you had one in front of you. Wondering you turned around to get a look at the man next to you.

He looked handsome with his black suit and his bristly beard, on his lips played a charming smile and he looked at you with mysterious eyes.

"Hello, darling", he greeted you and sipped at his Whiskey.

Suddenly you recognized the man. It had been years since you met him and you had nearly forgotten him but now he was sitting in front of you: Crowley, the King of the Crossroads.

"May I ask your name?", he asked politely, it seemed like he didn't recognize you yet, no wonder because of the way you looked now.

" It's (Y/N).", you smiled weakly.

This name rang a bell in his head, he narrowed his eyes and stared at you for a second before he finally recognized you: "(Y/N)?? My god, what happened to you?"

"Ironically for the king of the crossroad to talk about god", you chuckled, trying to change the subject.

" It's King of hell now.", he corrected you with a haughty look and crooked smile.

"Oh,", you answered in surprise. "So you moved up the ladder, huh?", you swayed the Whiskey in your glass, watching the liquid swirl.

"Now tell me what had happened to you. You look like you've gone through hell, and I must know it."

Sighting you took a long drink from your Whiskey before you cleared your throat: "My boyfriend became a pisshead and found fun in beating me up."

That was all you had to say about it, it explained everything and you rather stayed short about your problems since you didn't want any pity.

You gulped the rest of the whiskey down and felt the familiar burning in your throat. Crowley passed you his glass and you took it thankfully.

His face got serious: "Why haven't you left him?"

"I couldn't.", you replied between sips. " He is the only one left in my life. I would have nowhere to go and if I go who knows what he might do to me."

He looked at you as if someone had hurt his puppy: "Do you still love him?"

You needed to think for a moment, it wasn't easy to answer this question. You still loved the man he had been, when you looked at old pictures you felt butterflies in your stomach but then you looked at him now and it felt like somebody was stabbing those butterflies, leaving nothing but an empty feeling and sadness.

"No..", you answered Crowley's question with a shaking voice and attempted to gulp the rest of the Whiskey down again but Crowley stopped you, taking the glass out of your hand and putting it back on the counter: " Don't waste the good stuff, darling."

You sighed again, running your fingers over your face and through your hair.

"You know, I could help you.", he stated and you huffed amused: " I'm still not gonna make a deal, Crowley."

"How sad...But I already doubt it.", he said and stood up.

A feeling of disappointment grew inside you as you heard him walk away.

Maybe you should have made a deal. Crowley's hell couldn't be worse than your hell on earth.

You flinched as suddenly someone placed his hand on your hip and a hot breath brushed your right ear: " I'm still going to help you, love.", Crowley behind you whispered.

Your body tingled at his touch and his low voice like it hasn't done in years.

It felt so much better than the burning of whiskey in your throat.

"And how do you wanna do that?", you finally asked as the wave of desire had finally stopped rushing over you.

"Let's say...", he lightly kissed your neck. "He fell down the stairs and broke his spine..."

Crowley knew exactly damn well which buttons he needed to push to get the reaction out of you he wanted.

You bit your lip and inhaled sharply.

"Why would you do that for me? What are you hoping to get in return?"

He chuckled: "Oh, I already did it."

And with that, his hand left your hip and he was gone, leaving you uncertain about if he had said the truth.

Back at home, you found your boyfriend lying on the floor, unconscious but still breathing.

You called an ambulance and they first wanted to take you with them to take a look at your bruises and wounds but you were able to shrug them off.

Now you were sitting on the couch, staring into the black tv screen and didn't know what to do.

Meanwhile, Crowley visited your boyfriend in the hospital, he appeared in his room with a cocky grin on the face and his hands in the pockets of his black suit.

"Hello, Zac." [Let's just call him Zac], Crowley greeted and Zac jumped in surprise, letting out a quiet scream.

"What the hell?!", he yelled and threw a glass after Crowley, but he easily eschewed it.

" That's where I come from, I'm impressed you noticed it so fast.", Crowley chuckled and Zac looked at him with terror as Crowley's eyes switched to red and back.

"I heard you will never be able to walk again. Must be worse for a football player."

Zac stared at him with furious eyes, not really getting where this was going.

Crowley calmly walked towards the bed, Zac was sitting on.

"I could give you your legs back. You would be able to walk again and play football", Crowley's smirk grew as he saw how Zac was thinking about it. "What do you think?"

"What do you want in return?"

"Your soul."

Zac eyes narrowed in disbelief: "H-how?"

"Oh, you don't have to do anything for it. I'm just gonna claim it someday.", Crowley licked his lips, already knowing that Zac was about to say yes.

"Okay, deal.", he finally said and Crowley grinned once again. "I still can't feel my legs. Isn't the deal sealed yet?"

"It's sealed with a kiss."

"No way!", Zac shouted and Crowley sighted: "Normally our girl demons do the boys but there was no one available today, sorry."

With a disgusted expression, Zac pressed his lips onto Crowley's and pulled away fast.

"It was a pleasure to make a deal with you.", Crowley said and disappeared again.

At home you still sat on the couch, staring blankly at the tv screen.

Suddenly you heard a rustle behind you and turned around, only to see Crowly standing in the kitchen.

He had lifted his right foot and looked at it grossed out: " I knew it wouldn't be neat and tidy here because I haven't announced that I would come over but I wouldn't have expected that.", he said and pointed at the pb&j sandwich which was now sticking under his shoe.

A giggle escaped your mouth and he smiled softly at you before he whipped the sandwich away.

"We don't have much time, darling. Zac will be here in at least one hour so we need to hurry.", he said and grabbed your coat from the closet next to the door.

" What, how? The doctors told me that he wouldn't be able to walk again.", you asked puzzled and stood up.

"I made a deal with him, he can walk again. Now get your favorite belongings so that we can go.", he explained to you and you looked at him in disbelief. " So you only 'helped' me to make a deal with him?", you asked angrily.

Crowley walked over to you and looked you deep in the eyes as he spoke: "No, the other way around, love. I made a deal with him to help you. He only got three days until I'll claim what is mine."

You bit your lip and quickly turned away, walking upstairs to pack a bag with your clothes.

'(Y/N), don't even think about it!', you thought to yourself. 'He's the King of Hell and only playing with you!'

A bit grumpy about yourself you threw your clothes in your bag, hurried in the bathroom to get all your stuff and then rushed down the stairs.

Crowley noticed the grumpy look on your face: "Everything okay, darling?"

"S-sure,", you stuttered. " We can go."

He narrowed his brows, questioning himself what might be up with you, then he showed you a piece of paper: "I wrote him a goodbye letter from you. Maybe this will stop him from searching for you."

Surprised you took and read it: "Dear Zac, I'm sorry but I can't live like this anymore. I wish you the best. Love, (Y/N)."

"Did I hit your tone?", he asked and you just nodded, placing the paper on the kitchen table.

Your eyes rested on an old picture from you and Zac. He had an arm around your shoulders and kissed you on the cheek.

It felt wrong for you to go now, to just leave him since you always hoped he would get better again. But deep inside you knew that you had lost him.

Crowley laid his hands on your shoulder and turned you around: "We need to go now. He doesn't deserve this look on your face.", he said caring and before you knew it he had teleported you with him.

A bit dizzy you looked around in the new room.

It smelled and looked like a hotel room, there was one small bed beside a window, a little nightstand next to it and another door on the opposite, you guessed that there would be a bathroom behind.

"This was the best I could get in this short time, I hope it's okay, my queen.", Crowley said as he scratched his head.

You walked over to the bed, acting like you overheard his nickname for you and placed your bag on it.

"It's fine, don't worry.", you answered and failed to hide a smile.

The way he cared for you was so sweet and made you feel butterflies in your stomach.

"Are you going to stay with me the next days?", you asked with a bit of hope in your voice.

" No, I have some business to do. I'm sorry, darling", he answered and you sighted in disappointment.

"But I'm going to leave two of my men here. They will watch after you and protect you from Zac."

He snapped his fingers and two men appeared in the room, next to the door.

Crowley walked over to you, bend forward and whispered in your ear: "Don't go outside alone and don't do something stupid. I know you. Be a good girl, for me, okay?"

Shivers ran down your body at his words and the way his breath hit your ear: "Okay..."

Your gaze rested on his lips as he returned to his upright position, suddenly feeling the burning desire to kiss him.

Little did you know that he felt the same way, but he turned around and grinned to himself.

"Watch after her and don't leave her alone.", he ordered his minions and they nodded.

Then he turned back to you: " I have to go now. Goodbye, darling.", he bowed slightly and disappeared.

Sighting you threw yourself on to the bed, exhausted and looked at the clock: 6 o'clock in the morning, no wonder that you were tired. As you tried to recall everything that had happened in the last hours, your eyes closed and you drifted off into a restless sleep.

A loud crash woke you up, someone groaned in pain and something fell to the ground.

It took you some seconds to realize that you weren't at home anymore and that this probably wasn't just a drunk Zac, but also a really angry one.

You jumped out of the bed, ready to defend yourself, sick of always letting him beat you up.

In the light of the lantern which shined through the window, you could see two bodies lying on the floor, they didn't move or made any sounds. Fear crawled under your skin as you realized that your bodyguards were dead.

You didn't know if Zac actually killed the demons or if they just left in fear.

"Hello, (Y/N).", he said and your muscles tensioned by his cold voice. "Why have you left me? Don't you love me anymore?"

With every step he made towards you, you took one back until you hit the wall behind you: "Leave... Leave me alone!", you stuttered, feeling your pulse rising as he stood so near to you. His hand grabbed you by your throat and pushed you against the wall, making it difficult for you to breath.

" You think you can just walk away from me? Just write a goodbye letter and be gone?", the pressure on your throat increased. "Oh, how wrong you were. I'm not gonna let you go, my princess."

Tears swell up in your eyes, hearing him using your old nickname.

Formerly, when he called you this you could hear his love for you in his voice, but now you could only here obsession.

"Please don't hurt me...", you whispered between short breaths and sobbing.

"I'm sorry, but you're the one who made this ugly.", he answered and the next second his first hit your stomach, knocking all the air out of your lungs before he pushed you to the ground.

Coughing you tried to get your breath back, the room around you was blurry and you couldn't straighten your upper body since your stomach hurt so much.

You heard him unbuckle his belt and flinched as he snapped the leather against each other.

He kneeled down in front of you and grabbed your face, squeezing your cheeks: "Are you going to come back with me now?"

You thought about every option, but everyone was even worse than the one before.

'Crowley!', you screamed his name in your head, hoping that he would somehow hear you.

Zac shouted something but you didn't hear it, you tried to shut everything out, cried Crowley's name over and over again in your head and became numb of the pain as Zac hit you with his belt.

Suddenly the hitting stopped and everything was silent, scared you dared to look up.

Zac stood there with his arm raised, the belt in his hand.

Crowley stood behind him, holding his arm in place.

It was like the time had frozen at this moment.

You didn't dare to speak.

Zac, who had turned his head towards Crowley didn't dare to speak.

And Crowley, whose eyes were red, didn't need to speak.

"I could kill you.", he broke the silence. "I just need to snap my fingers and you would be dead."

Scared and angry Zac freed himself from Crowley's grip, letting the belt fall to the ground.

"Please don't, Crowley...", you begged with a shaky voice and stood up.

Both of you looked at each other, he felt your pain and it took him all he had to hold himself back.

"You know him?!", Zac suddenly yelled and you flinched. " Did I fell down the stairs because of you?! You made a deal with him, didn't you?"

Crowley answered for you before you even knew what to say: "No, she didn't. She wasn't as bloody stupid as you to make a deal with me. But you are right in one point, I'm responsible for your fall. And I hope it had hurt."

All the anger and hatred Crowley had for Zac swang in his voice as he spoke the last sentence.

"By the way, I just decided to claim your soul today.", Crowley started in an ice-cold voice and smiled evilly after he saw the fear crawling into Zac as he heard a loud growl from behind him.

"I would recommend you to run. My little hellhound is fast."

Juliet growled again, dangerously and Zac ran off, as fast as he could, slamming the door after him which Juliet tore down seconds after as she jumped through it.

It was silent again. You stared at the door in shock. Not sure if you were happy or sad about what just happened. Suddenly all the pain rushed over you, mentally and physically and the tears, which you were holding back for so long streamed down your cheeks. Loud sobbing you collapsed to the ground.

Crowley caught you, embracing you as you both sat on the ground now.

"It's okay, I'm here, no one can hurt you now.", he whispered calming as he held you in his arms.

Crying you pressed yourself against his chest, sobbing and sniffing and realizing that it wasn't just because of the pain, but also because of relief.

It was over.

You wouldn't come home to an angry boyfriend anymore who yelled at you every day and hit you.

You wouldn't come home in fear anymore.

You could finally live again.

......................................................................

"Thank you...", you mumbled into his shirt as the tears stopped rolling down your face.

Crowley cupped your face between his hands as he lifted your chin to make you look at him.

Your cheeks were red and your eyes puffy, probably making you look like a fish but his eyes got softer and a small smile appeared on his lips.

Gently he placed a warm kiss on your forehead and then pulled you back into a tight embrace.

This time it was you who smiled. Sometimes actions do say more than words...❤

......................................................................

Sooo, this was it!

I hope you enjoyed this one-shot, and yes I know, it's pretty long🙈 (I really didn't mean to write so much!)

The ending is separated by the way because I first wanted to finish it with the sentence "You could finally live again", but I thought some fluff at the end wouldn't be bad ;)

It would mean much to me if you leave a vote and comment🙇

Sending you all my love, thank you for reading! ❤❤❤

My Wattpad: @/lilakudo

[mochiusagifanficchaos]

Sherlock x Mute!Reader •Part 2•

It's been three months now since you first met Sherlock and Watson in person.

You still work in the cafe and things were going so well, everything, just everything seemed to work out perfectly.

Sherlock became a close friend of yours and you brought him tea nearly every day, mostly up to his flat, and when you didn't, Sherlock came down to look if everything was fine with you.

You smiled as you thought about this and poured the tea into one of the new tea glasses which you bought with your boss last week.

You hear the typical ringing of a bell when a customer enters the cafe and look up to greet them with a smile.

But your lips frowned midway.

In the door were standing two men, with clown masks on, terrific grinning and with a diamond-shaped colour around the left hole for the eyes.

One of them was holding a gun in his hand, directly pointed at you. Fear crawled under your skin and you dropped the tea glass.

This one second seemed so long to you.

The glass slipped your hand...

The man with the green diamond shape on his mask was deadly looking at you and the one behind him was about to lock up the door.

The glass fell...

The few customers in the cafe were motionless and everything was silent.

Then the glass hit the ground and crashed loudly.

Two women screamed in panic and the green masked man turned his look and his gun to the two ladies and shouted:

"Don't move! Don't scream! Don't speak!  You all will be silent or you are dead!"

Everything was silent again.

But you could feel that it was a forced silent.

Everybody's muscles were tense, concentrating on not moving a single bit but also ready to defend themselves the next second.

The boss wasn't here today so nobody came out of the back door or was hiding there to contact the police.

It was at this moment when you realized that you were helpless.

But there was one thing you could do:

Hiding the key from the register.

The man who locked the door finally turned around and you could see another terrific clown mask, yet this one had a blue Diamond around the eye.

But his chubby face was oozing out of the mask and you could see his dark skin.

He started walking towards you and you felt your time running out.

You stumbled back against the wall and faked fainting.

Sliding down the wall and falling to the ground you hear the steps closing up faster.

Swiftly you get the key out of your apron pocket and let it slide into your sock.

Right in time.

The chubby man walked around the counter and grabbed the register, abrasive trying to open it.

"It won't open!", he yelled and punched the metallic box.

"Get the key, you idiot! ", the other one replied, still pointing the gun at the customers.

The chubby man looked around and smashed plates and glasses as he threw them from the counter.

You slowly eased your way back, but he already turned his face toward you.

You stopped in your motion and held your breath.

The man walked toward you, making quiet cracking sounds from the broken glass he was walking over until he stood right before you, grabbing you by your collar and pulling you back on your feet.

"Where is the key? "

With a shake of your head, you tried to make him understand that you didn't have it.

But of course, he didn't understand.

Angry he pushed you back to the ground and landed a kick in your stomach.

You couldn't breathe for a moment and the pain was overwhelming.

Tears rolled down your cheeks.

"Where is the key?!", he yelled at you but you couldn't move.

You couldn't see clearly through your tears and every breath was hurting.

Eagerly he knelt down in front of you and grabbed you by your ponytail.

His hands slipped into all your pockets in order to find the key, but it stayed gone.

"The. Key.", he said again, angrily and grabbed your tiny face rude with his gloved hand.

You whimpered and with shaking, hands tried to fish your notebook out of your apron.

He was about to beat it out of your hand but the one with the green mask, who was now standing behind you stopped him:" Let her write."

"The boss has it but he's not here right now", you wrote in shaky handwriting and immediately earned a punch in your face.

You fell back on the ground and cried noiselessly.

You were just about to give them the key as you hear a police siren in the distance.

The two-man looked at each other and the one with the gun rushed to the customers,  making them go into the backroom.

"Everyone in the other room! Give me your mobiles and move!", he yelled and watched everyone laying their phones on the tables.

The costumers hurried to get in the backroom and you could see that one of the ladies was crying.

Your eyes met and you could see in her eyes that she could feel your pain.

The man with the gun locked the door behind them.

The sound of the sirens got louder and the men started to panic.

They cuffed you to the heater right under the window and shoved a towel in your mouth, nearly making you gag.

Hurriedly they grabbed the register and climbed out of the window above you.

The chubby one wasn't able to climb the window and used your shoulder as a stair to get out of the cafe.

You could hear it cracking as his full weight pushed down on your shoulder and the pain made you numb.

The sirens were so loud now as if they were right before the cafe.

But they died down a few seconds later.

The police car wasn't about to get to you. It just passed the cafe.

You couldn't remember the last time you had cried for so long.

Maybe when your little sister died?

Or when you got your throat cut and lost your voice?

Whenever the last time was, now you felt like you had the worst time of  your life.

Your stomach and right side hurt, your shoulder seemed like it was dislocated, your eye hurt from the punch and your hands which were cuffed to the heater already had burned spots.

But you couldn't cry anymore.

You felt like but there were no tears left.

You chuckled.

I literally cried an ocean, huh.

You thought, remembering something your mother said when you were young and wouldn't stop crying.

Suddenly you heard a loud bang as somebody crashed against the door next to you.

Some customers tried to break the door open.

They throw themselves against the door again and you flinched.

Again.

And again and again.

The door swung open and crashed into the wall.

But not the back door, the front door.

The bell, which normally greeted the costumers fell to the ground and made a quiet sound comparing to the steps rushing over to you.

But every sound rang in your ears and your head felt like it was about to explode.

Then you saw Sherlock.

He rushed to you and knelt down in front of you, eyeing you worried.

Quickly he tugged the towel out of your mouth:" What happened? "

You just gave him a tired look, not able to make much movement.

But he understood.

Of course, he understood, he was the greatest detective of all time.

Watson came rushing in and froze in his action as he saw you:" Oh my god (y/n)!"

"They stole the register?", Sherlock asked you while Watson tried to break the handcuffs, but he didn't even wait for your nod and looked around the cafe to find some evidence.

Finally, Watson broke the handcuffs and your hand fell tired and numb to the ground.

"You didn't hand them the key did you?", Sherlock questioned you further and earned an angry scoff from Watson.

"She got beaten up Sherlock! Now is not the right time to ask her something heartless like this! She needs to get to the hospital! And why should she hide the key?!"

"Did you?", Sherlock just asked again, ignoring Watson and you pulled the key out of your sock with a triumphed grin.

Watson's face was priceless now:

His eyes nearly fell out of his head, his eyebrows narrowed in disbelief and his mouth was slightly standing open.

But you cared more about Sherlock's expression.

He had a small proud smile on his face and for whatever reason did this one proud smile meant the world to you now.

Why the key?

Well. Some weeks ago robberies on cafes by two men with clown masks started and the police were overwhelmed with it because it didn't make sense to them.

They called Sherlock for help and he installed some sort of protection in the register of your cafe, which gets activated when someone breaks it open with force.

The criminal would be splashed with some sort of color, that can't be washed away with regular soap.

And your only job was to hide the key.

Sherlock picked you up from the ground, carefully, to not make you feel even more pain than you already did and you let your head rest on his shoulder.

Before you even knew you drifted off as he carried you...

Part 3 will be up next weekend! Hope you liked this chapter ❤

My Wattpad: @/lilakudo

[mochiusagifanficchaos]

Draco Malfoy x Reader •lemon/smut• Jealousy

TRIGGER WARNING: adult content

A cup of Smut, a tsp of swear words and a pinch of violence

"Where the fuck do you think you're going, (L/n)?", Draco said loudly as you were about to leave his room.

"None of your business.", you answered in a cold tone and kept walking towards the door.

He caught your wrist and twirled you around, pushing you harshly against the wall behind you.

"How stupid do you think I am?", he hissed angrily, his face only inches away from yours.

"Very.", you spat back with a grimace and Draco's eyes darkened dangerously.

His cold hand found your throat: "You should watch your mouth, (y/n)."

More annoyed than scared you crossed your arms in front of your chest: "Or what?"

You winced as his grip tightened, making it hard for you to breathe.

"Would be better for you if you don't find out."

However angry you were at him, you couldn't deny the fact that the way he acted turned you on.

After all these weeks where he didn't even glimpse at you, it felt like heaven to finally have his full attention again.

Draco noticed you struggling for breath and pulled his hand away, placing it next to your head at the wall.

"I don't remember the part where I agreed on letting you flirt with other men."

A huff escaped your mouth: "And I don't remember the part, that a relationship with you meant to get ignored for weeks."

Slowly it dawned on Draco that you had only flirted with Potter to make him jealous.

And oh boy, how that had worked.

Every time he saw you around the brunette, how you laughed at his jokes or laid your hand on his shoulder, he wanted to Avada Kedavra him.

A deep chuckle rumbled through his chest and he slowly shook his head in disbelief.

Puzzled you narrowed your eyebrows.

"You're a little bitch, you know that?", amusement sounded in his voice which irritated you even more.

"Says the one who forgot he had a girlfriend."

You pouted, still angry at him.

Draco stared into your eyes and before you could ask yourself what he had in mind, his lips crashed onto yours.

Taken off guard it took you some moments to kiss back.

You didn't even want to, but it had never been your strength to resist him.

With his left hand, he lifted your hands from your chest and above your head while using his right hand to fiddle with the tie around your neck.

In a swift motion, he opened the knot and tied the silk fabric around your wrists, pulling it tight to make sure that it wouldn't open by itself.

"What are you doing-?", you stammered between kisses, trying to free yourself from his grip but he just pushed you back against the wall with ease.

"Teaching you who you belong to."

A wave of heat rushed through your body and consumed all the anger still left, turning it into lust for the tall blond.

Draco's free hand wandered over your clothes, following the curves of your body, his lips only millimeters away from yours.

He watched every movement on your face, every flinch you did when he touched a sensitive spot, every whimper you tried to hide by biting your lip.

His breath on your lips drove you insane.

You wanted to kiss him, to feel his lips against yours - but he wouldn't let you, always making sure to stay just as far away from you so your lips wouldn't touch.

Slowly Draco opened the buttons of your blouse and bra catch, pushing it aside, dragging his gaze over your exposed skin.

You were covered in a thin film of glistening sweat, your cheeks were flushed red and your legs slightly shaking.

And he hasn't even really touched you yet.

A smirk crawled on his lips and his eyes darkened.

To know that he could crumble you with this little effort made a thrill of ecstasy wash over him.

His free hand slipped under your skirt and caressed your leg.

The slow and light strokes tingled on your skin, making you shiver and wishing that he would finally stop teasing you.

Your arms twitched, wanting to lead his hand between your legs but Draco held them in place over your head.

"Not so eager.", his breath brushed against your ear as he placed soft kisses at your jawline and down your neck.

You shuddered as Draco reached your soft spot on your neck and you could feel him smirk against your skin for a second.

His kisses got rougher, turning into sucks and a long-held back moan escaped your mouth.

He chuckled low:" That's what I want to hear."

Without a warning, Draco dragged you away from the wall and over to his bed, pushing you forcefully back to make you fall backwards onto the mattress.

He followed you shortly after, crawling on top of you.

His cold fingers grazed over your cheeks and lips as he slowly sat up.

Down your neck, and over your chest between your breasts, down your stomach, and over your navel, only stopping his movement because the fabric of your skirt was in his way.

In a fast motion, Draco undressed from his black turtleneck sweater and let it fall beside the bed.

You didn't even have time to admire him as he suddenly grabbed your tights and jerked you closer to him, making you straddle his waist and earning a surprised squeak from you.

Draco leaned forward to kiss you, his lips forcefully moving against yours and his member poking you through his trousers.

His actions were more aggressive than usual.

He didn't want to show you how much he loved you.

He wanted to make sure that you knew you were his.

Only his.

His left hand found your throat, gently grabbing it, making sure to not cross the thin line between pleasure and violence, while he traveled kisses and bites down the inside of your thigh.

Silent whimpers you couldn't control bubbled out your mouth and turned into moans as Draco pushed your underwear to the side and licked over your folds.

His tongue flickered around your clit, circling the little bundle of nerves, making you twitch underneath him.

You covered your face with your still tied together arms and bit your lip, trying to stifle the noises coming out of your mouth.

Draco noticed it and responded by pushing two fingers inside you, hitting your sweet spot as he curved his fingers, breaking your control for good.

You cried out at his sudden action,  earning a chuckle from him, which vibrated at your sensitive skin.

His fingers got faster, aiming to hit your G-spot with every curving of his fingers and his tongue kept leaping over your clit, making you a moaning and whimpering mess underneath him.

Your body felt like it was burning up, every bit of skin tingled and your mind was completely blank, too overwhelmed by Draco's teasing to concentrate on anything else.

Or anything at all.

You felt a knot building up inside you, tightening with every hit at your spot, with every suck at your clit.

Breathing heavily your hands found Draco's hair, clenching at it to have something to hold on to-

Abruptly he stopped.

His mouth left your throbbing nerve bundle and his fingers slid out of you, his left hand moved away from your throat and the bed creaked as he stood up.

It took you a moment to realize what just happened, your mind too fuzzy to process his action.

But once the ecstasy inside you died down, a feeling of disappointment consumed you.

Draco had planned on stopping here, leaving you as a frustrated mess in his bed, needy and desiring him.

But looking down at you now, how you laid in front of him, breathing heavy, sweating slightly, flushed red and your skirt halfway up your waist, your bra tugged aside over your breasts, and strains of hair sticking to your face - he just couldn't.

He huffed, thinking that you would probably be his death someday since he just couldn't control himself around you.

With a silent rustle, you heard Draco's pants fall onto the floor, followed by a dull thud of his belt.

His hands grabbed your waist and pulled you to the edge of the bed before he turned you around, making you kneel on the mattress.

A warm shudder crawled under your skin as he positioned himself at your entrance.

With one hard thrust, he completely buried himself inside of you, groaning at the sensation.

You let out a cry, wishing you could slap him for being so rough but the anger quickly faded as his hand grazed over your back, guiding you down into a hollow back and he started to pound inside you.

He was slow at first, gently stroking your back and you nearly thought he might want to apologize like this for being this rough with you but the next second, his hands grabbed your waist firmly, pulling you towards him as he pushed inside you with hard thrusts.

Loud moans and whines escaped your mouth and mixed with his grunts.

You clenched onto the blanket underneath you, burying your face in the silk fabric as he penetrated your sweet spot.

The knot inside you tightened again and your walls contracted around his member, making him speed up which drove you over the edge.

You cried out as your orgasm flooded in waves of heat through your body, limps twitching and your legs feeling numb for a moment.

Draco's thrusts got sloppier and his breathing shorter as he drove himself to his own climax, pounding fastly into you.

His grip at your waist tightened as he released himself with one last thrust, groaning lowly.

Breathing heavily he pulled out of you and you collapsed panting on the mattress, your legs shaking slightly.

"Don't you dare to flirt with Potter ever again.", Draco warned casually while cleaning you both up.

"Got it. I will pick a Weasley next time.", you joked out of breath and got an annoyed grunt from him while he untied your wrists and finally released your hands.

"I hate you."

"I love you too.", you snickered weary, earning an eye roll and a soft smile from him.

"You better do.", he said and placed a sweet kiss on your forehead.

Well, this is probably the longest smut I wrote so far

I don't know if I should feel proud or ashamed 😂

Anyway! I hope you like it, let me know if you did, it would mean a lot to me ❤

My Wattpad: @/lilakudo

[mochiusagifanficchaos]

Gabriel x Reader lemon/smut •Let me heal you•

Warning: adult content

It was one of those nights after a long hunt at the bar again.

Tired you sipped at the cocktail in front of you.

Hunts had been much easier with the Winchester brothers but you had to go your way, didn't want to play the little girl who needs to be protected anymore, so you left.

Sometimes you still wished you haven't but this was your life now, alone on the road.

You were so deep in thoughts that you didn't notice that a man sat beside you and watched you with an amused smile.

"Well if this isn't (y/n).", he said and you jumped in surprise.

The man with the golden brown hair and whiskey-colored eyes grinned at you. He was wearing a white collared shirt and the first buttons of it had been left open.

You knew him from the time with the Winchesters and even so, they didn't quite like him, you had come along with him pretty well.

"Gabriel!", you shout happily, placing the cocktail glass in your hand back on the counter.

"Long time not seen, cupcake.", he said and gave you a peck on the cheek. "So, I heard you finally left the brothers?"

"I wanted to go my own way.", you admitted. "Why are you here?"

"I was bored and wanted to pick some girls up.", Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows and you rolled your eyes as a response.

"You haven't changed at all.", chuckling you pushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

"And you're still as beautiful as always."

You blushed slightly: "Oh shut it! You're too cheesy."

Gabriel just smirked at you, but his smile faded as he noticed a big red cut on your neck which disappeared under your black t-shirt that your hair had been hiding.

"What happened with your neck?", he asked with a worried tone in his voice and pushed some more of your hair back to get a better look at the wound.

"Just some stupid werewolves.", you lied. "But I got rid of them, don't worry."

It had been an Angel who had tortured you with his angel blade. He wanted to know where Gabriel is but you couldn't tell him and even if you had known where he was your mouth would have stayed shut.

After over a week he finally let you go but you had cuts all over your body now, not to speak about the psychical damage he had done.

"You are lying.", Gabriel stated with an angry voice and you felt caught.

"I-I am not.", you tried to sound as convincing as you could but the look in his eyes showed you that he already knew what had happened.

Suddenly you felt dizzy and the next moment you blinked you were in a different room, sitting on a soft sofa.

Gabriel was kneeling in front of you:

"You can't lie to me. I can read your thoughts if I want to."

Awkwardly you looked down at your feed: "...Right. I'm sorry."

"I can't believe my brothers did this. I'm sorry, (y/n).", he said with a guilty voice. "How bad is it? Let me see, I'll heal you."

You hesitated for a moment but then pulled your shirt up and undressed in front of him.

He had healed you often back then and saw you in your underwear multiple times already so it wasn't such a big deal to you anymore but it still embarrassed you.

With red cheeks, you tried to cover yourself up.

Gabriel admired you and your body, he always had, and sometimes he even had found it hard to keep his hands by himself when he healed you but today he just felt pain as he looked at you.

You've gotten skinnier and all those red cuts over your body made him feel guilty. After all, this just happened because of him.

"I'm so sorry...", he apologized again and pulled you into a tight hug, laying his chin on your head.

"It's not your fault, Gabriel. Stop apologizing and heal me already.", you said with a soft chuckle on your lips, trying to overact the embarrassing and sad situation.

With one quick movement, he lifted you and sat you down on a big wooden table next to the sofa.

Carefully he caressed over the wound on your neck with his fingers and followed it to your shoulder, letting it fade away.

You first flinched at his touch and the stinging sensation but quickly got used to it and started to enjoy the feeling of his fingers stroking over your body.

You had to admit that you had missed this.

His hand slide over a cut on your stomach and you watched his face, his eyes shining blue for a short moment whenever he touched a new wound, making it fade away.

Melting into his touch you closed your eyes.

Suddenly his hand wandered over a scar that went from your hips to the inner side of your thigh and you sharply sucked some air in, gasping at the sensation.

Puzzled he looked up at you and locked his eyes with yours.

You blushed furiously and wanted to look away but his whiskey-colored eyes hypnotized you in a way you couldn't explain.

It seemed like he was searching for something in your eyes and your thoughts went crazy about the intense gaze he gave you.

It seemed like he had found what he had searched for because his mouth formed a little grin before he leaned forward and pressed his lips onto yours, kissing you softly.

Surprised about his action it took you a moment to return the kiss.

But the moment you did he grabbed your thighs and pulled you closer, deepening it.

A small moan escaped your mouth. Gabriel chuckled: "I wanted to do this for such a long time, cupcake."

A shy smile crept on your lips and Gabriel started to travel his kisses down your neck, his hand wandering behind you, softly pulling at your hair.

Your hands clenched into his shirt as he sucked at your neck, having found your weak spot.

Slowly he grazed more kisses down your shoulder, healing cuts on his way until his lips met the hem of your bra.

Before he could take it off you took his face between your small hands and kissed him harshly, swinging your legs around his waist and pulling him closer. You could feel his hard member and rubbed yourself against him. A low groan came from his throat and the next moment, he pushed you backward.

You expected to fall on the hard desk but instead fell on a soft mattress.

That little jackass had shifted you both again.

His lips crashed onto yours and his hand wandered down your stomach to your panties, rubbing you through the thin fabric while his other hand pinned you down by your wrist above your head.

"I'm not a little jackass.", he growled against your lips before he attacked your neck again and trailed down to your breasts. With one finger snap your underwear was gone.

You hissed as you felt his hot breath over your breast and your eyes fluttered shut as he licked over them, before sucking at your nipple.

His free hand caressed your inner thigh, slowly moving closer to your faults before he slipped between them, massaging your clit.

Moaning you arched your back, overwhelmed by his touch.

Gabriel loved the view of you being a moaning mess underneath him.

He had pictured you in his lonely nights like this so often and finally, you were his. 

Without a warning, he pushed a finger inside of you and scratched your walls.

He added a second finger and your hips bucked against his hand as he found your spot, asking for more, moaning and wriggling under his touch.

His lips left your breast and found your mouth again, kissing you roughly, muffling your moans.

Suddenly he pulled away from you and started to slowly unbutton his shirt, never breaking eye contact with you. Once his shirt was open he teasingly slowly unbuckled his belt and let his trousers slide down his legs, smirking as he watched the growing desire in your eyes.

As soon as his boxers followed his jeans you yanked your hands forward and grabbed him by his open shirt, pulling him back on top of you and kissing him while tangling your fingers in his golden brown locks.

A little off-guard about your sudden action he nearly forgot to kiss back.

His member rubbed your faults and a wave of heat rushed through your body.

You felt him position himself at your entrance before he pushed inside of you, carefully and slowly, giving you time to adjust to his size.

You whimpered, his golden eyes stared into yours, wanting to make sure that everything was okay.

Soon the pain was fading into pleasure and his slow thrusts became faster and harder.

His hands found your waist, and he grasped it tight while pounding inside of you, hitting your sweet spot over and over again, making you cry out and arching your back.

Gabriel leaned down to you, his lips only millimeters away from yours, too occupied to actually kiss you.

You felt the knot inside of you tightening with every thrust and you clenched onto Gabriel's shoulders, digging your nails in his skin. Moaning and whimpering you threw your head back as the knot burst and the overwhelming feeling of your orgasm rushed over you.

He groaned, your walls tightening around him bringing him further to his own climax.

His thrusts got sloppy and his breath shorter until he released himself inside of you with one last hard thrust.

Exhausted he let himself fall on top of you, burying you underneath him.

"Looks like I still picked a girl up tonight.", he said proudly and you could feel the vibrating of his chuckle.

Snickering you pushed him down from you and gave him a quick kiss.   "Took you long enough.", you whispered and cuddled to his chest...

I'm not really used to writing smut, I hope it's not too cringe haha

But anyway, I hope you enjoyed this story!

Let me know if you did and much love from a certain archangel to you ❤

[mochiusagifanficchaos]

Sherlock x Mute!Reader •Part1•

„So, do you guys know what you want to eat?", asked John Watson in a slightly impatient tone. You could tell that he was hungry and did not felt like waiting any longer, just because the Holmes brothers made an eye-contact-battle.

Mycroft cleared his throat and gave the menu a quick look.

„Yes", he said and waved a young girl with a white apron over to the table.

You saw a man at a table right in front of the window waving so you quickly made your way to him. On the way, you struggled to get your notebook out of your pockets from the apron but had it in your hands, right at the moment when the man began speaking.

"One steak and one spaghetti.", he said and turned away from you again.

How rude, you thought, but nodded in a polite way and smiled.

Then you looked at the guy sitting on the right side of the table, wanting to know what he was going to order, but the man wasn't even looking up to you. His eyes were fixed on a paper that was lying in front of him on the table. You already knew him.

Since you have started to work at the Café you saw him now and then, always sitting at the same table, never ordering something to eat, rarely a cup of tea.

"Nothing for me, thank you.", he suddenly said and changed the pages of his paper.

Puzzled you let your pen slide back in your pockets, nodded once again and turned around.

"Why aren't you going to eat?", the men who ordered the food asked and just got a cold: "I don't eat when I'm working, digestion slows me down.", as a response.

"How did you know what I was going to order?", you heard one of the men asking as you walked back to the counter to give the cook your note.

You turned around again to face into the direction of the three men.

The man with the short dark hair, well the 'rude man' to put it into better words, just opened his mouth to say something, but got cut off by the guy in front of him.

"Your finger John, ", he said, his eyes still analyzing the papers in front of him. "It's on Spaghetti."

The man, called John, sighted and turned his glance to the window: "Obvious. Of course."

"WAITER!", someone suddenly yelled and you winced, nearly dropping your notebook.

You looked around to meet the gaze of two angry-looking men which were wearing expensive-looking suits and hats, black leather gloves and were smoking a strong cigar, you could smell it, even though you were on the other end of the Café.

Slowly you walked to the two men and bowed slightly, which was meant as an excuse.

"Not even an apology. Tsk.", the man with the cigar in his hand said and dumped the ash down into a vase.

You took the cigar out of his hand angrily but also carefully.

He rapidly stood up from his chair and crashed his fist onto the wooden table.

You flinched back a little but calmly pointed to a sign over the counter.

It showed a red crossed out cigarette.

Unwillingly he slowly sat down again, still glaring at you, but you just responded with a sweet smile.

You went to the counter again, putting the cigar into a trash bin and came back to the table, whipping your pen out and holding it over your notebook, ready to write.

Since none of them was talking to you, you looked the man on your right into his eyes, raised an eyebrow and tilted your head a bit. Your way of asking what he wanted to order.

After some seconds the man understood: " Two Cappuccino, please."

You nodded and gave him a polite smile again. Hearing the other man getting something out of his pocket, you looked at him, noticing that he just fetched a new cigar.

You gave him a warning look before bringing the cook the note with the two Cappuccino.

Right in time.

He was just placing two plates on the counter, took a peep at the note, looked at you and you nodded. Making the drinks was your job and you knew it, but the cook, or well the Chef, with his brown hair tied up into a plait, and his big belly, stretching the white shirt, always wanted to make sure. He was a nice guy, never being angry, even when you made mistakes, he was always calm.

And for some reason, the man that never eats here did not need to pay his orders, which also counts for his friend, John.

You learned that right on your first day here and embarrassed yourself.

The Chef went back into his kitchen and you behind the counter, making two cappuccino and some black tea.

You wanted to be attentive towards the man who was here so often and thought it would be a good idea to bring him a cup of tea. He does not need to pay it anyway.

You took the water boiler off of his socket and poured the hot water into a cup with a black teabag.

And over your hand.

You pulled your hand back out of reflex and squeezed your eyes tight, whimpering silent because of the pain pulsing in your right hand.

Fast you let cool water run over it and flinched as the water hit your burned spot.

With tears in your eyes, you grabbed a little can of milk and poured a bit into the tea.

Blinking the teardrops away you grabbed the two plates in your left and the tea in your right hand, bringing it to the table with the 3 men.

You placed the food in front of John and the 'rude-man' and the tea in front of the other man.

He was still looking at his papers, ruffling his hands through his brown, messy hair.

"Thank you.", he said in his warm voice while continuing to dead glare the black letters on the paper. "And hold your hand under lukewarm water, because of your burn."

You nodded, confused, about the fact that he knew that you burned yourself but put it off with the explanation that he saw your red hand.

Over 30 minutes had passed now and your hand still felt like it was burning. You placed it under water, put ice on it, holding it under water again but it just wouldn't get better.

It even got difficult to carry plates and glasses with your right hand, forcing you to go more often to a table because you couldn't carry it all at once anymore.

Luckily the Cafè wasn't well patronized today so you could spend some time on cooling your hand.

You just wiped your hand dry as you noticed John and the other men standing up from the table.

Hurriedly you wrote the price of the steak on a paper from your notebook and ripped it out while rushing to them, giving the 'rude-man' the bill.

He looked at you with a raised eyebrow: "Why do I have to pay? I thought Sherlock gets free food here.", he said arrogant and wanted to return his bill, but you already wrote something on a new one and showed it to him: 'Fiat from the Chef, sorry".

Groaning he pulled his wallet out of his pant pockets and gave you the exact sum.

You looked at him disappointed. Not even a little tip. Are you this bad at your job or is this guy just as rude as a tart?

"Where's Sherlock?", John suddenly asked and looked around the Cafè. You also looked around but he was nowhere to be seen. "He already left?", John asked again but you just shook your head before going to the counter to put the money into the till.

From the corner of your eye, you saw someone moving next to you.

You looked up and saw Sherlock standing next to you with your Jacket over his arm.

Wondering you replied his eye contact and tilted your head again like you always do when you wait for an answer.

"Come with us. I already talked to the Chef, don't worry. John needs to look at your hand, he is a doctor.", he said and walked to the front door.

Confused you took of your apron and hung it onto a hash on the wall, following Sherlock, who was already waiting outside.

Your mother always told you not to go with strangers, but it felt like you already knew him for a long time.

Well, you knew which kind of tea he liked with how much milk if that isn't something.

Sherlock was heading for a door left from the Cafè with the Number "221B" written on it.

He unlocked the door and went in, the 'rude-no-tip-man' called for Sherlock: " Are you going to attend the matter??"

"Yes, yes, maybe.", it came out of the house.

"It is from national concernment!"

"I know Mycroft."

Sighing he turned to John: " Goodbye, Doctor Watson.", and turned to the street to wave for a cab.

"Goodbye.", he responded.

You followed Sherlock into the house, John gave you the advantage so you needed to look around for the door in which Sherlock went by yourself.

But since only one door was open, you found it easily.

With an uncomfortable feeling, you stepped into the room.

It smelled like cigarette smoke and it definitely needed to be a window opened to let some fresh air inside. On your right side was a big yellow Smiley drawn on the wall with... holes.

You wondered what they were but Sherlock already answered: "Gunshots."

You looked at him blank.

Your head slowly tilted to the side and you furrowed your eyebrows.

He waved the sentence with his hand out of the air and pointed to a grey leather armchair, next to a brown-red fireplace.

"Sit down, John will take care of your hand.", he said and walked into what looked like a kitchen.

You set down on the armchair and sank into it. It was really comfortable, you had to admit

and you liked the big red carpet right under your feed.

John came through the door with a small white box in his hands. He smiled at you and kneeled down before you.

"Give me your hand", he said, opening the box with his right and carefully grabbing your hand with his left.

He sprayed something on it which smelled like sanitizer then rubbed a white cream on it and bind your hand with a bandage.

You smiled thankfully at him and tried to move your fingers, but a sharp pain rushed through your hand and made the once cold cream felt burning hot.

"No, no. don't move it. I am going to give you a new bandage with cream tomorrow and in 2-3 days it should be better again.", he informed you and closed the white box again.

Then he stood up and slumped into the red armchair in front of you.

"So, what's your name?", he asked you, still with this warm smile on his face. It seemed like he still hasn't noticed that you were mute. You automatically grabbed to your pocket, to get your notebook, but it was empty.

Then you remembered. You forgot to take it out of your apron. Goddammit!

Now you were sitting there, helplessly looking back at John Watson.

"She is mute.", Sherlock said, coming out of the kitchen and walking over to a messy desk, taking a paper and pen from it and giving it to you.

"Oh.", John answered surprised. "I thought she was just very shy. How did you notice?"

"She didn't talk one word back in the Cafè, even when she was scared. Do you remember? The two guys with the cigar? "

You scrawly wrote something under your name on the paper and showed it to Sherlock.

'I was NOT scared!'

"Of course, of course."

"That's all why you knew she is mute?", John asked again and got a disappointed look from Sherlock.

"My good friend, John, you are the doctor here. I assumed that you would notice the characteristics of a mute human-being! Especially because she got a thin scar on her throat."

"Yes, yes! My god Sherlock, I admit that I am a man with a small little brain which is, like you say, boring inside.", John huffed. " What was her name again?"

"Y/N.", Sherlock answered.

"Why are you letting her sit on your chair anyway?"

"Because she is hurt."

"You normally never let someone sit in your chair, no matter if they are hurt or not."

"She brings me tea."

"Mrs Hudson also brings you tea."

"Mrs Hudson isn't making the tea right."

"Ah. Of course.", John rolled his eyes at Sherlock.

He just ignored him and gave you something, which he was holding in his hand the whole time.

"For the tea.", he said with the same expression on his face like always. It wasn't a deadly serious expression, just a nonemotional, even though you thought his eyes were looking more gentle than usual.

Part two will be up next weekend! 😊

[mochiusagifanficchaos]

Arthur Pendragon x Reader •Duties•

Arthur sat over tons of papers on a big table in the throne room, he looked stressed and pale.

You could see how difficult it was to him to rule the kingdom now that his father is dead.

He was trying his best to be respected and loved by everyone but totally forgot to take care of himself.

Merlin had noticed it too and tried to cheer Arthur up but he got thrown out of the room every time he tried it.

Silently you sneaked inside the room, not wanting to disturb him since you knew how angry he could get.

As you ordered the knights to leave Arthur looked up.

"Take a break, Arthur.", you said in a caring voice but he just sighed and turned back to his papers: "You know that I can't. I'm king now. I have duties to-"

"Shut up.", you interrupted him, harshly and with an ordering tone.

Surprised he looked up at you again, his eyes followed your moves as you walked towards him.

Slowly you took your coat off and let it fall to the ground.

The shirt which was tugged under your skirt followed and Arthur started to look interested in your actions.

He lifted his head a bit and looked at you satisfied, knowing what you were up to.

As soon as your undershirt joined the other clothes on the floor Arthur stood up and walked over to you.

You grinned as he grabbed you by your waist and pulled you towards his chest.

"Maybe a break indeed would be a great idea...", he whispered in your ear and you chuckled.

Arthur pushed you back until you hit the table with your back and lifted you up so that you could sit on the wooden desk.

His lips crashed on yours and his hands traveled over your body.

You accidentally knocked some papers and a cup off the table as you swung your legs around his hips and pulled him deeper into the kiss.

Suddenly the door to the throne room swung open and two knights were standing in the door frame, holding their swords in their hands as if they were ready to fight.

"Is everything alright?!", one yelled and immediately regretted his action as he saw you two.

Startled you covered your breasts and Arthur turned around with an angry and annoyed look on his face.

"GET. OUT.", he growled.

"We... We heard something and thought you might be in danger.", the other knight tried to defend themselves.

"OUT!", Arthur yelled again and the knights rushed to get out of the room and closed the door.

"My God...", he sighed and rubbed his forehead in disbelieve about what just happened.

You giggled and picked your clothes from the floor: "Maybe you should finish this duty in your room~".

Authors note: please don't hate me for the ending, please don't hate me for the ending😂

My Wattpad: @/lilakudo

[mochiusagifanficchaos]

Gabriel x Reader • I don't deserve you •

Season 13 spoilers!

The glass slipped out of your hand and crashed on the ground, shattering in a hundred pieces.

"What?", you breathed into your cellphone, not believing what Sam just told you.

"Gabriel isn't dead.", he said again. "Are you okay? I heard something breaking."

You didn't answer him, hang up and rushed out of your apartment.

"(Y/n)?", Sam asked into his cellphone and then heard the peep of you hanging up on him.

Sighing he leaned back in his chair.

"What did she say?", Castiel asked, standing in the middle of the room like a misplaced statue.

"Nothing. But I guess she's on her way."

Not even 10 minutes later the door of the bunker was thrown open and quick steps hurried down the stairs.

Heavy breathing you stopped in front of Sam: "Where is he?"

"In your old room.", he answered and went ahead. "But don't get scared. He is in a really bad state."

You had prepared for the worst but the moment Sam opened the door your heart dropped.

The walls were covered in hinochec words and Gabriel was sitting in the corner of the room, hugging his knees and rocking slightly back and forth.

"Gabriel...", you whispered shocked, walked over to him and kneeled down.

Slowly he looked up at you.

He had two big cuts on his forehead, blood all over his mouth and face, his nose looked like it was broken and his brow was burst.

His usual golden whiskey-colored eyes were dark and full of fear, pain, and hatred.

But as soon as he looked you in the eyes you could see a small gleam of hope, it was a short flash but you had seen it.

Trembling he leaned forward and laid his head against your shoulder.

Carefully you placed your arms around him and hugged him tightly.

"What happened?", you asked but Gabriel didn't answer, he just hugged you back, burying his face in your shoulder, so Castiel answered: "He got captured and tortured by Asmodeus, he took Gabriel's grace to make himself stronger."

"Oh my god...", you whispered, caressing Gabriels back. "So that's why you don't heal yourself."

"It's not only that. He could if he wanted to, we still got some of his grace but he doesn't want to take it.", Sam explained while showing you a small vial with the light blue grace inside. "Maybe you can convince him to take it."

He gave it to you and Gabriel flinched back, trying to get away but you grabbed his face with your hands and made him look at you: "Why not?"

He didn't talk to you again but his eyes spoke volumes. Looking at you as in pain he begged you not to make him do it. Even so, he would have if it was for you but he still begged you.

With a heavy heart, you put the grace in your pocket and turned back to Sam and Castiel.

"He doesn't want to take it and I'm not going to force him. Bring me some towels and warm water, I'll try to clean him up."

Some minutes later you were sitting on the bed with Gabriel and cleaned his face carefully from all the blood.

He flinched every time the wet towel touched one of his wounds but didn't make you stop. His hand was laying on your leg the entire time and his gaze was fixed on your face, watching every movement you did.

"What?", you asked as you noticed that he was watching you and chuckled. "Do I have something on my face?"

A smile crept on Gabriel's lips: "No...", he said with a raspy voice. "I'm just so glad to see you again."

"Me too...", you admitted and looked away, feeling the anger again about the fact that he let you believe he was dead the last year."I thought you were dead."

His eyes got sadder again: "I'm so sorry about that... I ran away from all this, I'm a coward. "

You couldn't handle that he was talking bad about himself even if he was right, so you pulled him into a tight hug: "You are. But I forgive you."

"You shouldn't...", he admitted with so much guilt in his voice that it nearly hurt you.

"Shut up. I'm just happy that you're still alive right now."

You placed a sweet kiss on his forehead.

Gabriel suddenly had the little vial with his grace in his hand and stirred it around.

He opened the vial and his eyes followed his blue grace as it flew out and into his mouth.

His eyes light up in a light blue and all his wounds were gone.

Before you could ask why he had done this he grabbed your face with his hands and pressed his lips onto yours, kissing you softly.

Shocked and furiously blushing it took you a second to kiss back.

"I really don't deserve you.", he whispered and pressed his forehead against yours, starring with his whiskey-colored eyes into yours.

"No, you don't.", you chuckled and Gabriel pinched your nose in response.

Suddenly Sam stormed in the room with his cellphone on his ear, a scared look on his face.

Slowly he lowered his hand with the phone and looked at Gabriel:

"He found you."

Soooo I hope you like this one shot, maybe I'll write a part two because I can already hear you complaining about the cliff hanger like ending Even though you all know what is going to happen 😂

Let me know if you like it and want a part two❤

Much love to you💖

My Wattpad: @/lilakudo

[mochiusagifanficchaos]

Arthur Pendragon x Reader - You're worth everything -

"I have done nothing wrong!", you cried as the knight behind you pushed you down on your knees.

Arthur, who stood with his back to you and was talking to his dad turned around, curious about what was going on.

It took him a second to notice who you are since your face was covered in dirt and your clothes were torn apart but as soon as he looked in your eyes he knew it: you were one of the maids who worked in the kitchen and the one who was responsible for his meals.

"What is she accused of, father?", Arthur asked, a slight tone of anger swinging in his voice.

He knew you a bit, well, a bit was actually understated, he knew you very well.

You both talked very often and he even took you with him on a ride sometimes.

"She's accused of helping the man who stole the horses.", his father answered in a cold voice.

"I noticed her in the stable right after the man rode away with the horses.", one of the knights added.

"I haven't-!", you protested but got cut off by the king: "I didn't ask you to speak! Put her in the cell, she will be hanged tomorrow in the morning."

Shocked you looked at the king. You couldn't believe that he would just let you get killed because of something you didn't do. Tears ran down your cheeks as the knight tried to get you back on your feet.

"Father, let her say something for her defense.", Arthur said, hoping to get you safely out of this situation.

His father just sighed:" Fine, go ahead."

"I was looking after the horses like every night to see if everything was alright and then suddenly there was a man behind me, he hit me with something and I lost conciseness.", you explained. "And as I woke up again I heard the horses gallop away and the shouting of the knight's and the next moment they had brought me here!"

"Nice story. It sounds made up.", the King said with disinterest.

Before you could protest Arthur spoke up: " I believe her. We just need to check if she got a wound on her head."

He walked over to you and made the knights let go of you, his one hand was on your shoulder while the other one was frisking the back of your head.

You flinched as his fingers touched your wound.

"There, ", Arthur showed his father his hand, blood on his fingers. "She's telling the truth."

He just blankly looked at his son for a second, not knowing what to say.

"Fine, bring her to Gaius then."

The knight grabbed your arm tightly again but Arthur stopped him: "I'll do it."

Softly he laid his hand on your back and led you out of the throne room to Gaius chambers.

Arthur closed the door fast and pulled you into a tight hug, pressing you against his chest: "Don't scare me like this, seriously."

"I'm sorry, Arthur.", you smiled slightly, wiping your tears away.

Gaius startled up and accidentally dropped a little bottle because of Arthurs sudden appearance in his room and looked at you both confused.

"I'm sorry, Gaius. Someone hit her on her head and she's bleeding."

"Sit down, here.", Gaius ordered you and pointed at a small wooden chair.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm a bit dizzy and it hurts..", you admitted and tried to wipe the dirt from your face.

"You look horrible with all the horse dung in your face.", Arthur chuckled and you glared at him with a disgusted look on your face. 

"Wait,", he took a towel from the table and kneeled in front of you. "I'll help you."

Arthur smiled at you and looked amused as he cleaned your face while Gaius patched the wound on your head.

You flinched as a sudden pain came from the wound.

"I'm sorry.", Gaius mumbled and sat a little bottle with a purple liquid aside.

"There, all done. Don't move too much the next days, it could be that you have a mild concussion.", Gaius said and walked over to a shelf with multiple bottles on, searching for something.

"Drink this, it's against the pain.", he gave you one of the bottles with a caring smile on his face.

"Thank you, Gaius...", with one gulp you had the awful tasting liquid swallowed.

Coughing you gave him the empty bottle back: "What the hell, this was the most disgusting drink you ever gave me!"

"But it helps.", Gaius laughed slightly.

"Are you feeling better?", Arthur asked, brushing with his thumb over your cheek.

Nodding you laid your arms around his shoulders and hugged him tightly, burying your face in his chest.

"I can't believe that your father nearly killed me..."

"I know...", he held you tighter and kissed you on your forehead. " I'm sorry, (y/n)."

"After all am I just a servant. Not worth a second thought, huh...?"

"Don't say that. You're worth everything and once I'm King I'm going to make you my queen.", he cupped your cheeks and lifted your face up before he kissed you. "I promise you."

Gaius, who was watching the scene, cleared his throat to let you and Arthur know that he was still there: "Sire, I suggest you keeping this more private before your father finds out."

"You're right, I'm sorry Gaius.", Arthur stood up and you immediately missed his touch. "Thank you for your help. And (y/n), stay away from the horses. I'll find another servant for this task."

"As you wish, my lord.", you answered, bowing slightly and watched Arthur leaving the room with an amused smile on his face.

You sighed: "I should get in danger more often if he always looks at me like this then."

Gaius nearly glared at you because of your statement and you chuckled sadly, knowing that it would take weeks until Arthur would touch you like this again...

When I started this story I didn't know where it should go and what should happen, besides the beginning... So I'm sorry if this story is a little, well... messy.

I still hope you enjoyed it, let me know if you did! ❤

My Wattpad: @/lilakudo