#sherlock holmes x child!reader

[panic-in-the-multiverse]

Being Sherlock Holmes protege/child

Pairings: Sherlock Holmes x teen!reader (slight John Watson x teen!reader, slight Greg Lestrade x teen!reader)

Imagine: Sherlock taking a liking to you and decides that he wants you as his protege

Warnings: mention of struggling with school idk what else

A/N so as always my works are gn!reader so that anyone can read them and idk this idea just came to me might write and actual fic about it (sorry if it might be messy, haven’t reread it after I wrote it)

I love Sherlock <3 that’s it that’s my actual comment

So you somehow caught Sherlock’s attention weather it be that you are smart as him or not doesn’t really matter, you caught his attention

It was at a crime scene in which you helped Lestrade a lot in the case until he contacted Sherlock, when Sherlock got there he noticed how you helped him get to the answer, or more like you knew the answer which turned out to be correct. Having known much about this crime and the people involved helped you a lot to solve it.

Sherlock who as usual tried to deduce everyone tried to deduce you and noticed that he couldn’t, or he got it all wrong, it made him more curious about you

So Sherlock decided out of nowhere that he liked you, he saw potential in you and wanted to take you in, so that’s what he did

If you were an orphan he got accepted to foster you, but if you aren’t then he needed your parents approval, which he got (with a bit of help from Lestrade and Mycroft)

The first week living with Sherlock was filled with him trying to figure out things about you. In doing that he did actually notice all your bad habits.

He noticed how you were stressed about school a lot, how you struggled with school, which he thought weird as outside of school you were damn smart but as soon as it came to school all went to shit

So he started (without himself knowing) slowly to help you with your school work, he’d say random facts that you would actually need to your assignments in which you wrote down. He helped you a lot that way and when he noticed he still continued, because he noticed you never asked for help. You were a lot less stressed over school because of his help.

After a few weeks he started to notice how you would make sure that he took care of himself but you wouldn’t take care of yourself, so he started to tell you to eat something, to drink, to sleep, like you always told him

The first case he took you to was the first time you ever saw Sherlock get “scolded” though neither you or Sherlock took any mind to Lestrade telling him of for bringing a teenager to a crime scene, you wanted to be there to help so what was the problem?

Let’s not forget that both you and Sherlock are greatly annoyed by Anderson and Donovan because if anyone where to ask the two of you then they are both bloody idiots who doesn’t know a shit, and they do call you both names in which are not to your liking

Changing topic a bit Sherlock always wants to hear what you have to say about a crime scene

Everyone getting worried by your antics of throwing yourself in danger most of the time to help Sherlock who is in trouble

Mycroft actually liking you, hence why he protected you as much as he tries to protect Sherlock

This was all before John, but when John came into the picture everyone started to notice how much Sherlock had influenced you and they didn’t quite know if it was good or bad

John noticed how he now had to take care of two children in which one was a teenager and one an actual adult, but both acted as children and neither could take care of themselves

Stealing Sherlock coat whenever you miss him

“John I can’t find it” Sherlock yelled out lowly as not to wake you as he knew you were asleep

John walked into the living room with a mug of tea in his hand as he yawned tiredly, it was way to early for this “What are you looking for”

“My coat!” John heard the panic start to seep through Sherlock at the mention of his coat being gone.

“Why are you whispering”

“Y/N is asleep, I don’t want to wake them”

John who knew that you did in fact steal Sherlock’s coats from time to time sighed at those words. John took a sip of his tea before he walked over to your door opening it to show Sherlock your sleeping form.

That’s when Sherlock saw his coat draped around your body, the very same coat he had been looking for. You were cuddled up inside it the warmth keeping you warm as well as the familiar smell of Sherlock in which had comforted you into sleep helping with your previous worried state.

John had left the door leaving only Sherlock who stared at you. He sighed, closed the door and went and got another coat from his room. He’d let you have his favorite coat for now. Unknowingly to him a soft small smile had etched itself onto his lips as he thought about the fact that you felt safe around him, after all that’s why you took his coat.

He gave you a coat that looked like his after that

Neither you or Sherlock would ever admit it but you did see him as a sort of father figure and he saw you as his child in some sort of way

[book-place]

Rainstorms

Warnings: slight injuries, let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Sherlock Holmes x sister reader

Request: I would love an Enola Holmes Sherlock/sister!reader of some kind. Something comforting, like the reader getting lost on the way home and Sherlock finding her and making sure she gets home safe. I’m a sucker for brother-sister tropes. :D

Requested by: Anon

*not my gif*

Summary: A sudden storm hits, and you can’t find your way home

A/N: I wanted this to be better, but whatever

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

It wasn’t supposed to rain. The newspapers had specifically stated that the weather would be absolutely perfect with hardly a cloud in the sky for the next week or so.

Worst case scenario, there would be a tiny drizzle at one point, not the torrential downpour that you were currently stumbling your way through.

Sherlock had been hesitant enough to allow you to walk from school back home- and it was only two streets away- so you could only imagine the kind of heart attack he would be having if he were there with you right now.

Despite that fact though, you longed for him to be with you in that moment as you wrapped your arms around yourself to try and preserve body heat that had long since vanished.

Over the last three days, your elder brother had been wrapped up in a case that he was so close to cracking, that he didn’t even have time to walk you home from school.

It wasn’t like he didn’t want to- of course he did- but the authorities were breathing down his neck for this case, hardly even letting the man get a couple mere hours of sleep a night.

It was raining so heavily at this point, that you could hardly see a foot in front of your own face, and the bricks that paved the sidewalk had become so slippery that you had to unravel one of your arms from around you and use it to steady yourself on the side of a nearby building.

Panic began to flood into your body faster than the rain had filled the streets and your breathing began to pick up to an abnormal pace, causing you to try and take deep, gasping breaths that left you sputtering from rain being dragged into your gaping mouth.

You had no idea where you were. You had no idea what was going on. The only sounds that filled your ears were the harsh slapping of rain on brick.

All of your senses were clogged by the rain, rain, rain, rain, rain-

As you continued to try and trek forward in hopes of finding home, your right foot slipped off to the side while all your weight was put into it, causing you to go tumbling to the ground.

Dully, you felt the stinging sensation on your palms from impact with the ground, but quickly huddled up against yourself and lent back against the wall, dropping your head into your lap.

Only two streets away, Sherlock’s attention was diverted from the papers in front of him for the first time in hours by the feel of something wet against his cheek.

His head lifted from his desk and a silent curse left his lips when he realized it was raining and his window had been left open.

He hurried to close it, but froze as soon as it was latched back into place. You hadn’t yet returned from school and you should have at least ten minutes ago.

With slightly panic-filled eyes, he took in the scene of the outside, with vendors' tables blowing every which way and the rain beating down like a merciless drum.

Without wasting another second, he practically flew to the door and hurriedly shrugged on his coat before quickly swiping an umbrella and rushing outside.

As soon as the door opened, he was forced to tighten his grip on the umbrella in fear of it blowing away in the strong winds.

“Y/n?” He began to call in a frenzy.

You were only nine years old and he had been stupid enough to allow you to travel the dangerous streets of London all by yourself because he couldn’t take five minutes out of his day to ensure that you were safe.

“Y/n?” Hardly any people were out in the storm, most having sought out shelter by then, and for the first time in a long time, Sherlock Holmes was truly becoming terrified.

Anything could have happened to you during or even before the storm, and he would hold himself responsible for the rest of his life if that were the case.

“Y/n!”

Your ears perked up at the sound. It seemed so far away, so soft, like the light at the end of a very long tunnel.

For a moment, you had thought you made it up, until it sounded again, “Y/n?”

You were finally able to lift your head from your knees, and there, like a knight in soaked armor, stood your brother, staring down at you with wide eyes as his chest heaved up and down in pants, like he had run a marathon to get to you.

“Sherlock?” You asked shakily, teeth rattling from the cold.

“Oh, Y/n,” He breathed out, immediately crouching down and scooping you up into his arms. He had long since lost the umbrella, or he would have flung it to the side without a care.

Though his shirt was drenched through like yours, his chest somehow still held a warmth that you automatically nestled into as he picked up his pace to get the two of you back home.

When you finally did get back, he kicked the door shut behind him and hurried over to the couch near the fire, gently resting you on there before scrambling around to try and find some blankets to cover you with.

By the time your chills had eventually subsided, your brother was sitting on the table in front of you, eyes worriedly raking over your body over and over again.

“Sherlock-“

“I am so sorry,” He interrupted you. And though you were young, you were taken aback, because your brother never apologized. He would always make up things in a different way, like buying you candy or making you your favorite food, “I never should have let you walk home all by yourself.”

He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I promise, I will never put my cases before your own needs again.”

Without thinking much of it, you threw the blankets aside and leapt towards your brother with outstretched arms, him catching you with ease, “It’s okay,” You whispered into the clothing of his shoulder.

He shook his head stubbornly, pulling away slightly so you could look him in the eyes, “I never meant to do that.”

“I know,” You replied, smiling softly at him.

He smiled back, relaxing slightly when he finally came to terms with the fact that you were no longer in danger, “Come on,” He said, lifting you up and spinning you around a little so that giggles escaped your lips, “Let’s go make some warm food.”

Detectives 🕵️‍♂️- @your-local-questioning-agender @popfishjr @spadecentral @gengen64

[milknhonies]

Wails of Wedded Bliss

Chapter 6 || Masterlist || Chapter 8

Chapter Summary: Upon meeting the Baroness you are enamoured by her devotion.

Pairing: Sherlock Homes x wife!reader

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, (No Smut), typical historical misogyny and sexism, mentions and discussion on miscarriages. Implied domestic abuse and infidelity.

Word Count: 9k

Author Notes: This is an important but rather sad chapter. I beseech you all to read the warnings. The details of this chapter are important to the plot of the missing Baron Thaddeus Pennicott.

Inspiring Song: "Flightless Bird American Mouth" by Vitamin String Quartet

8:30am Wednesday 7th May 1890, Grovelands House, The Bourne, London, England. 

Sherlock tucked your arm into his side as you three entered the Groveland house foyer. The floor was made of fine marble tile and with ever step a light echo raced down the halls.

The inspector called upon a nearby dusting maid to fetch the head of the house. Who returned was a thin and tall man in a butler’s uniform with a sliver pocket watch hanging from his chest. His hair was the colour of autumn leaves and his face littered in freckles.

He bowed, “I am mister Edward Redmayne, head butler of the Groveland estate, how may I assist you?”

The inspector shook his hand and stated quickly, “We spoke on the telephone yesterday? A telegraph was sent.”

The butler smiled with a relieving gasp, “Detective Holmes?”

Lestrade sheepishly looked over his shoulder to you and your husband. He nodded. His expression wore a emotion of embarrassment mixed with annoyance. Perhaps he was jealous of your husband’s successful published case stories. You wished you could have told the constable not to fret as Sherlock was nothing short of a arrogant mule...yet again- the mark on his face...he probably already knew that.

8:42am Wednesday 7th May 1890, Grovelands House, The Bourne, London, England. 

Upon meeting the lady of the house, you stood frigid by your husband. You felt somewhat self conscious by her grey eyes that lingered over your dress. Perhaps you should’ve worn your Sunday best before meeting a woman of such a high status.

The baroness was unmistakably pregnant. Her belly was bold and rounded beneath her maternity gown. She had been sitting calmly on a resting chaise, knitting a small bonnet for her future child. Her hands were covered in fine burgundy velvet gloves to match her modest dress.

Her face was framed by a light brown curls, that appeared almost white in some places, twisted into a bum at the base of her neck. Her pale face was blotchy with pink flecks and slight acne.

“Lady Pennicott, I am Inspector Braydon Lestrade of Scotland Yard,” the British officer proclaimed as he bowed dramatically forward. You withheld a girlish giggle by how low the man had bent his head and presented himself foolishly, and from the corner of your eye you manage to catch the whisp of Sherlock’s smirk.

The inspector waved his arm behind him and moved aside, “-and with me is Detective Sherlock Holmes and his wife, Mrs Holmes.”

You produced the baroness a respectable curtsy, your eyes glued down to the beautifully patterned carpet. You wondered how the servants could keep it so clean and freshly unstained by dirty guests. It must have been new.

The baroness shuffled her knitting needles and ball of woollen yarn into a Whicker basket and disposed of it beside her.

A slow stretching smile graced her thin lips as she spoke to you, “Oh, are you the little dear who solved that factory match girl incident?”

You weren’t sure how to answer her question. You weren’t entirely sure what the baroness was referencing until Sherlock stepped closer with your arm still cradled in his.

“No dear Baroness,” Sherlock pat your hand gently, “That would have been my sister Enola Holmes, she has her own detective office at present moment. My wife is here on my invitation. I wished to gift her a sight of the grand park and estate while I was here upon duty.”

The Baroness cocked her head, from her ears hung pearls that swung and hung like rain drops.

“Come forth dear,” she lifted her hand and beckoned you, “I would like to have better view of you.”

You wondered if she could smell the sweat beginning to drop down the back of your neck. You bit your tongue and tried to refrain from trembling. You were nervous. Her eyes were cold but her smile warm, two conflating details that you couldn’t understand. The last thing you needed now on top of a terrible start to your marriage was to be scrutinized by a haughty pregnant baroness.

She flickered your fingers for you to bend down to her. As you leant down, you swore you could smell copper, a metalic scent. A vein on your scalp pulsed. She scanned your face of its details. You dared to wonder what she was searching for. And then it clicked...the smell...

‘Dear god, you prayed, please don’t let her smell my blood, please let this not be my blood...’

You should have sprits on some perfume before leaving baker street.

She glanced behind you and questioned angelically, “How does it feel having such a clever husband?”

Your lips opened and closed. You resembled a fish. You were stumped to answer quickly.

‘Miserable, infuriating, torturous, pleasurable mixed with a cup of agony...’

She lifted her brows until you hurriedly blurted, “He is...formidable and righteous...” you stood up tall and took a step back, adding with a monetarism of truth, “I am very lucky to have become his bride.”

‘Lucky, while incredibly resentful.’

You reached back, Sherlock adopted your arm back into his hold once more.

Lady Pennicott rubbed her belly, her eyes started to twinkle, “And soon you will have a plethora of children that will look like him I gather.”

Your eyes fluttered. Sherlock’s hand tightened around your glove and his throat bobbed. You felt hot in the face.

Yes that’s right, that’s what normal husband and wife did isn’t it? They have children. That was your role, to be the mother of Sherlock’s offspring...

You couldn’t answer.

And there. That dear girl is when you questioned for the first time. ‘Is this what I want?’ and ‘Do I want Sherlock’s children.’ Because having a knowing of his barbarism conflated a fear in your belly...would Sherlock hurt his own children if he could easily hurt you, his wife?

When you hesitated for too long to answer her again, Sherlock said with a strained tone that was masked in a hopeful joy, “One may only hope, Baroness.”

“Lady Pennicott,” Graydon interrupted, “We have come to ask you on the whereabouts of Lord Pennicott and the evening he was last sighted.”

Her eyes narrowed at the inspector and with an annoyed twinge she muttered and wiped her hands on a nearby blanket, “I already informed the police of what I was informed of by our butler Edward.”

She glanced up next her right. Mister Redmayne observed her, looking down. The pair smiled to each other. She reached out to him. She grabbed his hand and they squeezed.

The inspector laughed nervously, “Indeed but Detective Sherlock Holmes was not presently involved in the case until yesterday.”

Her eyes flickered quickly to your husband and her face flared with confusion quickly to be matched with a impressed smile, “Of course, please sit all of you as I am near a indisposition with my child,” she gestured to the mirroring chaise and a chair beside the fireplace, “Edward, please tell Martha to bring tea and biscuits for our kind service men and Mrs Holmes.”

The butler bowed to you all and left the sitting room.

Lestrade took his place on the lone chair while Sherlock sat you beside him on the chaise. You took your time to lower yourself. Sitting on your bruises was uncomfortable while another cramp hit you. Your fingers dug into his palm.

From Lestrades breast pocket he pulled out a notebook and small pencil.

“Lady Pennicott,” Sherlock softly hummed, “Please, could you tell me what your husband is like as a person?”

The woman who you believed was in her late thirties smiled and stated softly, “My Thaddeus is a noble man, good taste in wine and very devoted to his work. He likes to go hunting and we share a passion for gardening,” she glanced up at the ceiling and paused, “He prefers to plant vegetables to donate to the church and orphans, whereas I have always loved to grow my flowers.”

The way she described him, her devotion was deep and honourable. She touched her round belly.

Sherlock looked over to the fire place behind the baroness. On the mantle was a magnificent portrait twice your height, painted on the canvas was who you recognised as Lord and Lady Pennicott. He was sitting up straight on a fine red cushioned chair with his dirty blonde hair and softened mutton chops while she stood at his right and her ringed hand on his shoulder. The similarities were there but Lady Pennicotts hair had lightened in reality perhaps from all the years that separated her likeness and her reality.

“I was informed Lord Pennicott is a father of five?” Sherlock asked.

The Baroness smiled proudly and pat her tummy softly, “Six soon.”

You couldn’t help notice something was missing from the painting, Sherlock also had a similar thought.

Where were the children in the portrait? Where was a family portrait in the house?

“Forgive me,” a breath of air escaped from him, “are the children away at school?”

“Oh,” her uncanny smile remained while her brows angled down, her throat tightened as she spoke, “I fear they are in the loving embrace of angels now. All of them were taken from us by God,” her eyes glanced to you, “They came out sleeping.”

Your heart sunk to the pit of your belly with sorrow and pity.

Five babies lost, five babies gone…five pregnancies… four and a half years of pregnancy and for what? Five angels.

A woman had one holy role in life, to bare her husband children, and when a woman was defective or produced a sickly child, it was a symbol of failure in society. But you never saw it that way...you imagined it must’ve been agony to lose so many babies. One or two was a common occurrence but five? Five was a curse to experience and relive over and over.

“Well,” you interrupted Sherlock rudely, cutting him off from his next abrasive question by squeezing his hand a little too hard.

You could see the mourning in the baroness’ face. You saw the classic look of all women made uncomfortable by something a man has said. What the hell would the detective know about a woman’s emotions after how coldly he has treated all women and yourself.

You shuffled on the opposite chaise and smile softly, “I will pray this one will come swiftly and feel the warmth of their mother.”

The baroness’ face lifted and warmed. She smiled happily and nodded, “Thankyou, oh I’m just so excited! This one really is a big one, I can feel it. I hope it’s a boy.”

Sherlock was staring at you intensely as the maid Martha finally delivered a pot of tea and poured the steaming liquid. His brows were knitted and his eyes held suspicion as he kept you in his sight. You politely nodded your head once at him before reaching for a hot cup and lifting it to your lips.

Sherlock sighed and turned back to his questioning, “You would say you liked your marriage?”

The baroness appeared offended by your husband as her face wrinkled and a sneer spread her thin lips, “Of course, any woman who doesn’t like her marriage should not be married in the first place. She is a burden to her husband if she cannot perform her duties as a wife.”

Lady Pennicott leant forward and collected her own cup of tea, she delicately pinched a biscuit and dunked it into the contents.

…you felt Sherlock drag his thumb across your fingers. You felt chilly, could he read your thoughts? Did he know truly how much you already hated him and his ideas of intimacy in your marriage? He clear his throat when both your glancing eyes caught each other.

“Can you tell me what happened,” Sherlock pressed, “The night of your husbands disappearance?”

“Well...after dinner,” the baroness sighed in thought and nibbled on her moist biscuit, “Thaddeus wanted to speak with me in his office about a spending I had made a week ago. You see, I had bought a cradle for the nursery. The one we had originally was broken and beyond repair, we disposed of it a month prior. Thaddeus was not pleased with the price and claimed it was an unnecessary purchase,” she paused and set her cup aside before she touched her belly again; rubbing in soft slow circles, she began to blushed, “He was sorely hurt by my choice. He then became very cross with me and left his office in a huff.”

She looked to the yarn, to the tea pot and then finally to the painting on the mantle, “I deemed that he would find forgiveness in his heart by the morning and brush it off. I returned back to the nursery to tidy up before I went to my rooms and went to bed to sleep in my quarters of the east wing. Thaddeus keeps himself to the west wing most nights.”

The detective nodded, “What time do you believe it was when you went to your bed, Baroness?”

She hummed softly while pursuing her lips, “A quarter to nine in the evening.”

“And how did you realise your husband was missing?” Sherlock stole a scone off the tea tray and lifted it to his lips. He paused amidst chewing it slowly.

The noble woman sighed and recollected, pragmatically, “In the morning Mr Redmayne informed me on how Thaddeus took off into the night astride Arion, our prize stallion Clydesdale. Thaddeus had not returned by the next morning and that is when concern drew near. I sent members of my staff to the factories to investigate his whereabouts and none had come upon him. I knew something had to be wrong so I alerted the authorities by the second morning.”

Your husband took a deep breath and discarded the half bitten scone, he wiped his hand unceremoniously on his jacket and throatily asked, “Do you recall if Lord Pennicott has any potential persons he might be deemed as an enemy towards?”

“Only his company competitors, Detective,” She said saccharinely with her smile, “He was a very loveable man.”

“Do you have a list of the names of staff who were working that evening here in Groveland House?”

The butler stepped forward and cleared his throat, “That would be in Lord Pennicotts office,” he pulled out a pair of keys, “I can you show you gentlemen in and where he keeps his accounts and other paraphernalia to his business if you’d like?”

Both Sherlock and Lestrade smiled and stood up.

“Baroness,” Sherlock gently requested, “Would it be overly bothersome if my beloved wife remained and kept you company while the inspector and I look in your husband’s office.”

Your heart jumped to your throat. What was Sherlock doing leaving you behind with the Baroness by yourself!?....what if you spoke out of turn or said something too presumptuous for your status!?...

“Most certainly not,” she beamed “I will gladly accept such delightful company,” She held out a hand, palm down to her right. The butler speedily stepped to her side and leant her his hand. She winced as she scooted forward on the cushioned lounge before struggling to rise to her feet.

Sherlock leant down and kissed the back of your wrist again, so scantily in front of the baroness. You tried tor refrain from loudly gasped and bringing anymore dangerous attention to yourself. Your husband left your side and followed the butler with Lestrade out of the sitting room.

So the party turned to two married women. The baroness was pleased.

She stepped closer to you and reached for your arm. You were surprised by her familiarity but you would not deny the assistance of a woman so desperately swollen and ready to birth any day.

“My dear, would you care to have a stroll with me in my garden?” She smirked and jerked her chin, “Knowing how dear Thaddie kept his space organised I suspect the gentlemen might be a while.”

You nodded and quickly made the warning assurance, “Are you in a condition to move great feets Lady Pennicott?”

“Fret not,” She giggled girlishly and waved her hand casually, “The physician told me fresh air is delightful for the health of the babe,” she tapped the top of her belly, “I have a month or so before they come.”

Your eyes widened, she looked huge enough to give birth now, surely she wasn’t a month away!! Maybe she was going to be blessed with a pair of twins. You had such a limited knowledge of pregnancy in women. Your grandmother hadn’t given birthed a child in the last forty years before your birth!!!

She pointed the way out of the main mansion to enter the garden paths. The sun was perfect today amongst the clouds. It was neither cold nor hot nor humid and dank...it was pleasant and you could smell the fresh nature of bushels and flowers.

“How long have you been known as, The Mrs Holmes?” She inquired cheerfully with her shining silver eyes.

“...Not very long,” you replied warmly before risking a white lie, “We recently finished our honeymoon.”

She grinned and waddled passed a wooden bench, she took a quick stop to rest and pat the seat for you to join her instead of standing dumbly.

“Shall I share some words of advise?,” She hummed, “From a woman that has been married for twelve years?”

“I would be ever so grateful,” you said rushed and desperate. You wouldve listened to anything she had to say. A woman of her standing must’ve held adequate wisdom.

She warmly cupped both your hands and squeezed them. And yet there was an ice creepy into her gaze. She appeared to dissociate, her voice losing its youthful lilt. Her lip wobbled slightly.

“Men are visual creatures. While you are so young and beautiful, you must become pregnant as soon as possible,” Lady Pennicott ran her palm across your waist, her eyes like razors cut across the yard to a bush of red rose buds, “It is inevitable that our husbands will stray their gazes to other women, it is in their nature,” those grey stones in her face rolled back and weighed you down, “as I said- visual creatures. The sooner you make a babe, the easier his devotion comes,” A joyous grin returned to her thin lips, she playfully tapped the tip of your nose and stated, “Trust me upon this.”

You clenched your hand behind you and strained a smile, “I thankyou for such wise words Baroness. I will endeavour to do what I must to conceive.”

At this moment in time Sherlock had proved himself a monstrous villain. Would it be possible for you to fall pregnant?

You looked out at the divine lush greenery and exhaled softly.

“Do you garden Mrs Holmes?” the baroness queried.

You chuckled softly and removed your gloves, you flashed her a sight of your palm, “I am afraid my hands have never been introduced. My grandmother preferred I focus on mastering piano and embroidery.”

The grey orbs fluttered back at you with a surprised him, “Embroidery is a lovely skill,” she pat your hand and pointed across the field, “Please help me up Mrs Holmes, let us take a look at my lilacs.”

You stood straight up and leant out your arm, she was surprisingly light for a woman her size. She leant against you and took small timid steps to her flower patches.

She stood and admired the flower patches, pointing to different types and explaining the breeds of flowers she hoped to grow in the future.

You finally bent over enough and cupped the petals of purple to hold up to your nose and took in a wiff “They smell lovely,” from the corner of your eye was a line of crimson, “I see your roses will soon be in bloom.”

She pinched a bud that was peaking to bloom soon.

“Oh yes, the soil is rich and healthy,” she giggled, “I can’t wait for Thaddeus to return, he liked the roses. He would stand here for a while and think. I know he will love the red colour. It is his favourite shade you see...” She sighed dreamily with her eyes scanning the bushes of scarlet rose buds, “I miss him terribly. I hope he’s alright. I want him to come home soon before the baby arrives.”

A fly smacked into your eye and you sputtered, battering it away. When you gracelessly composed yourself, you stood back up to your feet beside the Lady of Groveland.

You could see how her eyes puddles with droplets of mournful tears. You felt bad for any woman that did not know where her husband was. Especially if there was a rumour about him fleeing the marriage and abandoning her in her serious pregnant condition.

Taking the chance, you boldly took both your hands into yours and now squeezed them. Another buzzing from a fly sat on your shoulder.

The day was growing warmer and a bead of sweat rolled down your neck. The fly tickled your neck and suckled along your salted skin.

You tried your best to ignore the annoying creature.

“I am sure he will Lady Pennicott,” you soothed with a soft welcoming grin, “And he will be most happy when he returns.”

She sighed solemnly and glanced back at the rose bushes. You felt obligated for her happiness in that moment. Glancing back to the house you felt a opportunity come to you.

“May I visit your nursery Lady Pennicott, so I may have references for my own in the future?”

Her eyes flickered up, her face shine bright and her hand tightened over your wrists excitedly as though she was still as youthful as a school girl.

“Why of course Mrs Holmes,” she spun on her heel and wobbled a slight, she lifted her hand and called to the maid Martha still packing the china set inside, “Please inform the detective that I am taking his wife up to the nursery.”

“Yes Baroness,” she said with a humble curtsey and scurried off while Lady Pennicott took you totally inside the house and up a grand stair case from the foyer.

9:03am Wednesday 7th May 1890, Grovelands House, The Bourne, London, England. 

Up, up, up you both climbed the stairs. You noticed how the stairs didn’t bother her ladyship once, she was fit and stridden widely whereas you were breathing a little hard by the top step.

She pulled you down a hallway to a white painted door.

She excitedly opened the door wide and practically skipped inside to show you around her future child’s room.

The walls were covered in light blue and yellow paint. There were small peonies covering the trim of the room. There was no carpet but who needed one when you had a newborn.

“Welcome to the resting nest of my baby,” Lady Pennicott proudly exclaimed, spreading her arms out at the room around you.

There was a tall shelf filled with stuffed animals and teddy bears. There was a rocking horse, a doll house, spinning tops, tin cars and rubber balls all waiting, collecting dust, awaiting the arrival of a playmate. There was a permabulator by the window sill. There was a rocking chair in one corner and against the wall closest to the door- you smiled and swaggered over curiously, “Is this the cradle you bought?”

It was made of fine cream painted wood. You chewed your bottom lip in the thought. It was a lovely crib, why was Lord Pennicott so upset by such a delightful purchase? He didn’t have money issues. You put it down as that you didn’t understand the way men thought and men will never know what women think.

“Yes,” Lady Pennicott chirped, “it is from William Whitely department store in Baywater next to the Howard & Co dress department.”

The Baroness sat down into her rocking chair and slowly moved it back and forth, watching you admire the nursery she spent hours and years consistently curating.

You clenched the edge and looked over the railing down at the empty bedding. There was a teddy lamb in the corner, you pinched it’s fluffy white tail and sighed. For a brief moment you let your eyes close and your imagination wander far.

One day you’d have this...with Sherlock. An empty cradle to be filled. You caught the vision of a tiny hand squeeze around your finger and the sound of soft gurgles with the warm pressure of a hand on your waist...was that Sherlock’s hand? Was that your child?

One day you’d have a baby to care for, to provide these things that meant love...yet, was any child of Sherlock’s capable of love? He certainly wasn’t as far as you were concerned.

You bit down a shudder and opened your eyes, feeling hot tears glide down a cheek. You pushed back and sighed, “I am most confident on one thing Lady Pennicott.”

“And what is that Mrs Holmes?” she said softly, she could see the unspoken pain in your face. You swallowed hard and your face fell into a smile, you flashed her a wink.

You laughed softly, “Your child will be spoilt rotten by the love you give.”

She chuckled with you and nodded.

“Have you thought of a name?” you inquired, waltzing over to the chested drawers of baby knick knacks on display.

“Thaddeus Colin if it’s a boy,” she hummed, “or Theresa Grace if it is a girl.”

“Theresa?”

She giggled gently, “That is my name dear.”

Mrs Theresa Pennicott. It suited her. Her old soul eyes reflected her devout name.

A shine of glass pierced a ray of sun into your eyes, you pinched the glass object carefully. You touched a long black tube pulling out of it. You couldnt understand it’s purpose, your eyes narrowed at the rubber end that was shaped like a thumb or a cows udder. There was a second tube attached to the first with a rubber squeeze ball at the end.

“What is this?” you humoured.

“Oh that? It’s a fantastic invention,” The baroness said, “It’s a pump for breast milk with a tube that syphons the milk into this baby feeding bottle. When babies start to teeth they can scar your breasts. This is an effective and modern method I look forward to trying.”

Your eyes widened, scarring!? Babies teeth could scar a breast!?

You placed the bottle bump back and helped Lady Pennicott when she beckoned to stand back up from the rocking chair.

“Have you ever felt the sensations?” She suddenly, “In which they kick within?”

Your face must’ve looked idiotic as you asked plainly, “Kick?”

She giggled and nodded, “Give me your hand, perhaps you may feel them moving.”

She plucked your palm and pulled your glove off your fingers. She pressed your entire hand intimately to her belly. You felt a sense of taboo shame, she was making you touch such a beloved spot.

“Do you feel it?” she then asked.

Felt what? Confusion flooded your mind. Your hand moved around her belly slowly.

“I am afraid I don’t know what I’m meant to be feeling?”

She moved your hand and again you felt absolutely nothing.

“They are very brutal on my body,” Lady Pennicott sarcastically assured, “trust me there is a kick.”

She made a point to push your hand harder, but all you felt was the hard material of her corsetry beneath her main dressing materials.

“Baby’s kick you inside?” you marvelled with stunned horror. This was the first time you’d ever heard of such a notion of a baby beating it’s mother inside.

“Not out of malicious intent Mrs Holmes,” she reassured, “mostly it is the baby using its limbs to move their cramped bodies inside or excitement at the sound of voices, I truly believe they can hear us while still inside. Fear not, to you it will feel like a faint touch like this-”

Lady Pennicott softly tapped your wrist, “Like that.”

And there again was new knowledge you heard from a woman on matters of pregnancy. You moved your fingers around, seeking the supposed feeling of a kick...

Still nothing. You frowned, was there something wrong with you that the baby was choosing not to reveal itself.

“How interesting...”

A soft knock on wood alerted you both to glance at the door.

“Mrs Holmes,” the butler from earlier politely spoke, “the detective is requesting your return, I believe he intends to depart.”

Your face fell. You couldn’t believe it but you’d found this experience immensely enjoyable. You had surprisingly made a friend of the Baroness.

The fair lady hugged your side and sweetly exhaled, “Then I shall escort you back to your husband, Eddie fetch me my cheque book.”

He nodded and walked ahead of you both. You solemnly shut the nursery door, trying to remember every precious detail as possible. It was a innocent place to escape from the crude world.

You returned to the bottom of the foyer and smiled at your husband that stood by Lestrade at the front doors.

By the bottom step you faced the noble woman and curtsied.

“Thankyou Lady Pennicott for your kind hospitality and agreeable cooperation to the case,” you heard Sherlock’s voice float over your shoulder.

“Of course detective, please,” the Butler returned with her cheque book, “find my beloved Thaddeus.”

She scribbled speedily with a modernised ink pen, a sharp tear of paper flashed to his direction, “Here. Thirty pounds. I am sure you are busy with other clients considering your reputation, but I beseech you to seek out my husband quickly.”

Sherlock bowed his head as he deposited the cheque into his pocket, “We shall try our hardest. Good afternoon Lady Pennicott.”

Your mouth might’ve collected flies. Thirty pounds. THIRTY pounds. That was a hefty wage for a year to many men.

Sherlock was granted his coat and walking cane along with Lestrade.

He opened the front door and left slowly, glancing over your shoulder back at the heavily pregnant Baroness.

9:21am Wednesday 7th May 1890, Grovelands House, The Bourne, London, England. 

Sherlock and you walked up the gravel path in silence for sometime. You weren’t in much of a mood to speak to him despite well knowing conversation would need to spark eventually.

The three of you slowed down beside the inspectors horse cart.

Thankfully it was Sherlock who destroyed the silence with a stretched sigh. Lestrade grimly smiled at that sigh and rocked on his heels.

“Lestrade, show a useful skill,” Sherlock slapped a coin purse into his chest, “Find my wife and I a decent ride homeward. You still need to return back to the office and finish writing those reports on the Spring heeled Jack sightings....” he snickered.

The mutton chop male grumbled and left you pair alone to walk down the path into the main parklands to hail a cabriolet or another hackney carriage.

Sherlock pulled out his pipe and lit it quickly, he inhaled fast and asked curiously, “Did you learn anything else from our suspect?”

You squinted and felt a gasp pop from your lips, your hand snapped out and dug your nails into his arm with a scolding hiss, “Suspect? Look at the state she is in Sherlock. She clearly loves her husband. How could such a indisposed woman do anything to her husband?”

He smirked, “Perhaps a jealous one?”

Your brows pulled together. Jealousy wasn’t something you would’ve describe Lady Pennicott as especially with such a privileged life. Such an emotion wouldve been beneath her...but.. ‘It is inevitable that our husbands will stray their gazes to other women, it is in their nature.’

Sherlock pinched out a piece of card from his pocket, a business calling card, he flashed it through his fingers and let you carefully pluck it from his hand.

“it is no wonder Thaddeus Pennicotts name was so familiar,” Sherlocks huffed a puff of air, “He visits a like minded establishment.”

On the front of the card was a single image, a dove holding a olive leaf, and when you turned the card around there was a woman modelled in immodest clothing with text and an address in perfect hand writing.

“The Mayfair Row Dove club.”

You almost dropped the card in the mud at your feet.

He tucked the card back into his breast pocket and hooked his arm around yours, walking you closer to Lestrade waving his hands back at you both.

“I’m curious who his go to bird is there,” He chuckled.

You shook your head and scoffed in disbelief, “but she’s pregnant.”

“Men have needs,” Sherlock sighed, “I thought you’d have learnt that from last evening?”

Your nails dug harder into his arm and grit your teeth. Not everyone was as depraved as Sherlock, surely not. You couldn’t imagine Mycroft or your grandfather practicing such atrocities on women, especially women that weren’t their wives.

You noted snootily, “She said her husband liked to stand out by the roses to think. Perhaps he regretted his choice.”

Sherlock laughed cruelly and hard enough to almost drop his pipe from his lips. He plucked it out of his mouth and kissed you hard and squarely in front of Lestrade and any passing people that shook their heads in disgust at such public affection.

The taste of his tobacco filled your cheeks and floated down your throat into your chest. You could feel how his breath became your breath. Your head grew dizzy from it. His release left you trembling and collapsing against him briefly. His arm grabbed around your waist and held you totally against his chest.

“You see too much good in the worst people,” he whispered wetly into your ear.

“Not true,” you panted, you blinked your eyes hard and tried speaking again. You weakly pushed away from him back onto your own two feet. From the corner of your eyes you could see the inspector standing beside another hackney carriage.

“Not true,” you repeated and swallowed hard, “...I don’t see any good in you Sherlock.”

He grinned devilishly and walked you both to the carriage, He ignored Lestrade entirely except for retrieving his own purse.

“None at all?” Sherlock asked as he helped you step up inside of the carriage. It jostled as he plotted himself next to you instead of opposite.

You thought hard on his question for a time. You shouldn’t have ever been as petty as him. So you kept your silence before you could decide on a eloquent response. You did try to find the good in him. The trouble was you barely knew Sherlock and the side that you’d encounter was nothing short of a blagged, insufferable man that happened to be very experienced in the arts of the bedroom. So you tried to think about qualities you hadn’t seen in him but had at least heard of him.

“You help solve cases and even sometimes restitution, these deeds could be counted as decent and beneficial...perhaps good...”

He smirked until you finished hastily, “However your mistreatment and lustful addiction is nothing short of that than a person that suffers in his sin.”

A long annoyed sigh drew from his lips, however the corners jerked up.

He tug out his pipe and tapped it’s contents out the moving window, “Might I ask Mrs Holmes...” he inquired as he tucked in his pipe, and wiped his lips thoughtfully, “Do you think yourself better than me?”

The silence shared between the horses trotting along the cobblestones allowed you a chance to glare long and hard at Sherlock.

It was a jab, a jibe, a joke, a trick, a trap...

He wanted you to say yes... You could see it in his eyes the way they flicked to your lips and almost drooled with anticipation. He wanted to start a fight.

You didn’t give him the satisfaction of looking at you, you turned your head away and scoffed, “You may have quick wit and a expansive knowledge Sherlock, but I at least carry myself with the fairest morals.”

And that? The reply was granted a omen of Sherlock’s sickly chuckles and his heavy warm hand to sit over your thigh, running his them over the fabric of your skirts.

“We will see how fair a baker street whore morals really are when we arrive home then shall we?”

You leant against the wall of the carriage and chose to ignore him. You closed your eyes and held Sherlock’s hand to prevent it wandering anywhere else. His thumb rubbed along the back of your gloves hands.

You couldn’t understand Sherlock. And feared you never would.

HELPLINES:

If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers.

Australian Helpline Services

UK Helpline Services

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India Helpline Services.

[princessaxoxo]

Strangers to lovers Part 6

Sherlock x reader

Summary: Being Enola’s sitter was an adventure, but not as much as falling for her brother, Sherlock.

Warnings: 18+ Only, NSFW, fluff, unprotected sex (p in v), oral (f receiving), vulgar language, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of birth

Word Count: 523

“I now pronounce you man and wife; you may kiss the bride.” Sherlock kissed you with passion after the bishop made his announcement. Claps echoed throughout the room as your family and Sherlock's stood together. There would be a surprise that evening, one that you could not wait to tell your now-husband. “I love you, Mrs. Holmes,” Sherlock said with significance.

Sherlock took you to bed in a bridal fashion. The day of your wedding was filled with little touches to private areas of your bodies. In a manner unbelievably timely, you witnessed him strip off his clothing. The urge to have his body near yours—closer than ever—consumed Sherlock. He was exceptionally tough and passionate tonight. Sherlock looked at you and stated, "I have the most beautiful wife," as he assisted you in taking off your clothes.

His lips didn’t leave an inch of your body untouched. Eventually, his face landed between your thighs, and his soft lips made love to your cunt. His tongue swirled and sucked on your clit repeatedly until his name fell from your lips in whimpers and your orgasm took over your body.

In one quick thrust, his cock stretches your cunt as his body covers yours. There was hunger and yearning in the way he moved. With your palm firmly clutching his locks, Sherlock's head was nestled in the hollow of your neck. Sherlock's enlarged length brushed against your g-spot with every snap of his hips.

He kissed his way up to your lips while your nails scratched across his back. Your body experienced a familiar sensation, alerting you to your approaching orgasm. Sherlock felt your legs start to tremble as your walls tightened around him and his name slipped from your lips.

His seed filled you to the brim, and he groaned deeply. Before he could catch his breath, you said, “I’m pregnant, honey.” Sherlock just stared at you, unable to speak. “Not too long ago, my courses ended, and I saw a doctor. I'm definitely with child."

His face lit up with a smile as he placed his palm on your belly. “Our child, you mean.”

Nine months later, you were giving birth to your baby. Sherlock was by your side, holding your hand. “You’re doing fantastic, sweetheart," he said, then kissed your hand. “One more push, miss!” the doctor said aloud.

With all your might, you gave Sherlock's hand a strong squeeze. Abruptly, a cry filled the room. "Mr. and Mrs. Holmes, congratulations; it's a boy." They handed you your son. Upon holding your son for the first time, happy tears obscured your vision. “Hi, little one," you said as you brushed the side of his tiny head.

Sherlock had the biggest smile you've ever seen on his face as you turned to face him. His eyes were glossy. "Would you like to take him in your arms?"

"Yes, absolutely." With gentle care, you handed Sherlock his son. "He's gorgeous, isn't he?" Sherlock asked, glancing at you. 

You beamed and said to him, "He resembles his father." After exchanging quick glances and kisses, you both turned to face your son and looked forward to what lay ahead.

Taglist: @shellyshellshell @identity2212 @chloe92 @juliaorpll78 @nighttimestan @ellethespaceunicorn @armystay89

[thisisawonderfulusername]

only you

cavill!sherlock holmes x pregnant!reader

requested by: anon

summary: after becoming pregnant, you notice that sherlock has been distancing himself. he finally returns home after at least a month of being gone.

warnings: pregnancy, mention of a dead body but nothing graphic, if there's anything you see let me know

word count: 2k

a/n: thank you so much for this request! i apologize for how long it took to write, but i enjoyed it! i don't think i was able to fit absolutely everything but i hope you like it either way.

everything was perfect in the beginning. at least, that's how it felt. 

when you first met sherlock, it was at the scene of a case you were working on. you admit, it was a bit suspicious of you to be digging around in a dead man's pockets, but you were there for the same business as him. or at least similar. 

"who are you?" you jump at the new voice in the room, obviously not expecting anyone else to waltz in while you were doing your investigation.

you rise from your crouched position as you pull a note from the dead man's pocket, turning to see the intruder.

my, was he handsome.

clearing your throat, you fold your hands together, encasing the paper. "i could ask you the same."

he sighs, "sherlock holmes."

a soft gasp passes your lips. sherlock holmes, the well renowned detective.

"i ask again, who are you?" he questions. 

"y/n l/n." you inform him, "it's a pleasure to meet you, mr holmes."

his eyebrows raises as he looks to the corpse on the floor. "may i ask why you were searching a dead man's body?"

"oh," you had almost forgotten your business here, being in his presence. you glance down at the body, "i'm investigating a case. my search has led me here."

he seemed intrigued by the new information, nodding his head. "the case of his murder?" 

"well, a missing person's case. but it seems it has become more than that." you motion towards the floor. 

"i happen to be investigating his murder." he tells you, "i believe our cases may have crossed."

"so it seems." you hum.

he glances around the room for a second, clearly thinking. "perhaps we can share our information."

you never would've expected that case to lead to a long partnership, bringing your minds together to solve even the toughest of cases.

"another case solved, mr holmes." you smile at the man beside you.

"couldn't have done it without you, miss l/n," he responds, causing you to chuckle. 

and perhaps a blooming romance.

yes, throughout the months of running around with him, you may have grown to have some feelings.

it was something different. you had met plenty of men. your parents had introduced you to some, telling you how wonderful they were and how you should settle down soon before nobody would want you. of course, nobody would want a woman too old to have a child.

but with each man who courted you, you realized that in your mind, you were comparing them all to sherlock.

sherlock, who was the kindest gentleman you'd ever met. the person you felt most comfortable with on any day. the man who had moved in with you after a mere three cases, leaving two-twenty-one b baker street as a place for bringing evidence together to create conclusions.

in your mind, he was perfect. but out of reach.

little did you know, it wasn't quite as far away as you suspected.

"ha!" you step back as you look at the strings that connected on the wall in front of you. "oh my- sherlock!" you call for him.

he rushes in from the other room, eyes wide. "what? did something happen?"

"i figured it out!" you squeal, clapping your hands together, "i solved it!"

"you-" he quickly moves forward to look at all the connections, eyes darting all around. a moment later, he looks back to you, "you did!"

it's almost natural how you gravitate towards each other, "my word, you are just-" he can barely form words, and without thinking…

he kisses you. it seems as if it's something that happens everyday, with the way your hand moves to rest on his shoulder without any thought.

when he pulls away, you're staring into each other's eyes, amazed by what just happened.

"well, that could've happened much sooner," you breathe out, sharing a smile with him.

after your relationship blossomed, it was approximately a year before he proposed. 

and not too long after, you found yourself to be pregnant. when you told sherlock, he was elated at first.

the two of you were turning a new page in your story, beginning a new chapter.

but after a month or so, the excitement from him began to dwindle. he grew distant, and it seemed to you like he was hesitant to even look in your direction. 

with time, he was rarely coming home, staying in the flat that he used to call home- to you, it seemed like that was slowly a returning case. 

-

one day, as you were heading towards town to run some errands, you heard a strange whining sound near the bushes along the sidewalk.

when you went to investigate, pushing the leaves to the side, you saw a puppy. a bundle of shaggy, light brown fur.

"oh, sweety." you frown, hesitantly reaching out for it. once it allows you to get closer, you manage to pick it up out of the bushes. it was much heavier than you expected, but you managed to hold him. "why are you out here all alone? have you got any owners?"

you searched for a tag but to no avail. "it seems not. i suppose i'll take you home with me then, how does that sound? we can keep each other company."

you smile. no part of you ever expected having a dog, but here you are, carrying one back up the stairs to your home.

"i think a bath will do you good," your nose scrunches as you open the door, having to hold the dog close to yourself and smelling the odor that came from him.

thus began a friendship filled with love and loyalty.

part of you wondered what sherlock would think, but he hadn't been home in at least a month, only dropping in to grab a new round of clothes every once in a while. 

-

your hand runs across cato's back while his head rests in your lap. every few minutes, you'll lift your hand to turn the page of the book you've been reading, but only seconds later it's back on his fur. 

it's been a relaxing evening, as you've had no errands to run for the day, and until dinner you haven't got anything to do.

usually, this time would be spent by sherlock's side. whether it be having a cup of tea or going out to solve a crime, it would be with him.

it seems you haven't had that since you found that you were pregnant. since your belly grew bigger, since he stopped lingering in your presence. 

a knock at the door has the dog's head raising, and you look towards the door. as he jumps off the couch, you place a bookmark on your page and push up from your cushioned seat.

when you open the door, you're greeted with the sight of the young sister of sherlock's and her new beau. 

"enola!" you smile, opening the door further, "it's wonderful to see you again. and tewkesbury, a pleasure as always."

"it's wonderful to see you again, you look wonderful," enola says as they enter your home, noticing the dog a few moments later, "and who's this?" 

you look down to him, his tail beginning to wag as tewkesbury reaches a hand out for him to sniff. "this is cato." you inform, "i found him on the street about a month ago. i didn't expect for him to get so big in such little time."

they both smile and enola watches as tewkesbury scratches the dog's ear. "how does sherlock feel about him?" she asks.

a small frown tries to tug your lips down but you quickly disguise it. "i'm not sure," you sigh, "he hasn't been home to meet him."

tewkesbury looks away from the dog when you say that, eyebrows furrowing together. "he hasn't? why not?"

all words are lost as you shrug, not knowing yourself why he hasn't been around.

"i'll go speak with him," she states, beginning to move back to the door.

"no, enola," you grab her hand and she stares at you in utter confusion. "there's no need. i'm sure he'll be back soon."

her hand drops from yours as she sighs. "if he fails to return, i will get him myself." you promise.

she nods, "just- tell me when he does."

you muster up a smile, "of course. would you like any tea?" you change the topic.

"we were actually on our way to the market," tewkesbury informs you, "we were just passing by to say hello."

you nod, "well, don't let me hold you up. enjoy your day."

enola's arm loops through his and you feel a tug at your heart as you open the door for them, "remember, tell me when sherlock comes to his senses." she points a finger at you before they leave.

you sigh when you close the door, thinking of the times you and sherlock had their kind of relationship. young and naive.

you look down at cato, who was unaware of your feelings, his tail wagging happily.

"oh, darling." you sigh, patting his head, "what will i do?"

-

you hum softly, moving throughout the kitchen to grab various ingredients for dinner. 

it was a peaceful moment until you heard the door open, followed by a growl in the living room.

you froze, carefully placing what you held on the counter and grabbing for a knife. had you forgotten to lock the door?

when you peak around the corner of the entryway that leads out of the kitchen, you see what caused the distress of your dog- your husband, home for the first time in who knows how long. it upset you that the thought of him being home didn't cross your mind before someone breaking in.

the confusion on his face is evident when he turns his head and sees you. "what is a dog doing in our home?"

"i took him in." you state matter of fact as the dog trots over to you, sitting at your feet while keeping his gaze on the man unknown to him.

sherlock's eyebrows furrow, "and why was i not informed of this?"

"i'm surprised you even care," you laugh bitterly, "he's been here for a while now, and it says a lot that you're only learning of it now."

it takes sherlock a moment to answer, glancing around the room before looking back to you. "you're mad at me."

your lips purse. "what a brilliant deduction, sherlock."

he purses his lips, "i know i've been busy-"

"no, sherlock!" your voice suddenly raises and cato stands, "you haven't been home in forever. you've left me!"

when he looks down at the floor, you can feel the tears beginning to form in your eyes. "that wasn't my intention, darling." he mutters softly, taking a step towards you.

a soft growl comes from cato as he stares your husband down. "don't call me darling." you speak lowly, "you've lost that privilege."

you can see the hurt in his eyes, but you couldn't seem to care. when he shows no sign of reply, you cross your arms. "please, sherlock." you whisper, "what did i do? you've never been this distant."

"i didn't mean-"

"then why-"

"i'm scared, alright?" his voice raises, causing you to flinch. he frowns at the sight, shaking his head. "i worry i won't be a good father."

you feel a pang in your heart at his confession. out of all the reasons in the world, you never would've expected him to be scared. 

"sherlock," you step toward him, "my love, you will be a wonderful father." after you drop the knife on the dining table, your hand raises to rest on his cheek and he leans into your touch. "i wouldn't want anyone else for this baby. only you." 

his striking blue eyes stare into yours and you can see the guilt within them. "i'm sorry for leaving," he whispers softly.

"you better be." your volume matches his as you press a kiss to his cheek, "and if you do it again, i'll let cato maul you."

a laugh is pulled from him and you smile at the sound that you missed so much. "i promise, darling." he glances to the dog, "he's pretty cute."

"i know, right?" you look down at him, "i found him in a bush." you chuckle.

-

taglists

main: @horrorklaus @megasimpleplan4ever

sherlock holmes: none yet

[frost-queen]

Outmatched //Part 10 (Reader!Holmes x Anthony Bridgerton)

Forever tag: @missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22, @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, 

@queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly, @denkisclown, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr,    @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @october-leaves, @m-rae23,@kazbekkarluvbot, @freyathehuntress,

@kneelforloki, @mamaj-right, @queensgirl718, @abaker74, @thescooby-gang, @readers-posts, @randomstory56, @aureolinb, @fictional-hooman, 

@nyenye,  @loliakeoghan23, @heyheyheyggg, @aizawash0e, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @novas-dreamworld, @preciousbabypeter, @magical-spit, @heyheyheyggg, studioreader, @wonderlandfandomkingdom, @misscaller06, @dracoflaco, @nikithepuff, @child-of-of-the-sunshine

Summary: Schemes come to plan in order to force Anthony and you together. Can a heart to heart change matters? Certainly now your aunt has come into the picture, wanting to have her demands over you. [ Final chapter ] Read part 1  & part 2 & part 3 & part 4 & part 5 & part 6 & part 7 & part 8 & part 9

Sherlock was writing vigorously. The feather in his hand moving swiftly as he scribbled it around. Dipping as quick as he could in the ink seemingly not wanting to forget a word. It had been annoying you for the past couple of days. It made you sigh loud to get his attention. Nothing occurred as Sherlock was lost in his own mind. Having no ears for his surroundings. You sighed again sitting sloppy in the armchair.

Irritated by the scratching of the feather over paper, you got up. – “Whoever are you corresponding with so eagerly?” – You called out making your way over to him. You came to the front of the desk, lowering yourself on your knees, chin up on the level of the desk. Finally Sherlock noticed you with a brief glance. – “A lady perhaps?” – you responded shockingly.

“Someone you met at the ball? Are you in love Sherlock?” – you questioned with a gleam in your eyes. – “Don’t be absurd.” – Sherlock answered dipping the feather in the ink. – “A sister can dream.” – you told him slightly bummed. Sherlock looked up from his paper. – “So can a brother.” – he simply said. It made you roll your eyes at him.

“Should you not be preparing yourself?” – Sherlock spoke barely looking up as he finished the letter with his name. – “Prepare for what?” – you responded confused. Sherlock placed the feather down, giving you his full attention. – “The park.” – he informed you.

You got up half confused. Slightly narrowing your eyes at him. – “Where are you going with this?” – you wanted to know. Sherlock started folding letter. – “Nowhere.” – he let on, burning some candlewax to seal the note. You watched him closely. Trying to decipher a hint on his face.

Something that would give himself away. Nothing. Your brother was good in hiding his emotions. Frustrated you groaned and took a turn towards the hallway. You went up the stairs to your bedroom to prepare. Moments later you were meeting up with your brother Sherlock outside of the house. 

You took his arm letting him escort you to the park. The weather was quite nice. A soft breeze bristling through the trees. The sun high as it left a warmth on your skin. – “Have you heard anything from Lord Hill?” – you asked when Sherlock nodded at a passing gentleman. – “No.” – he responded placing his hand on yours over his arm. He came to a brief pause. – “Why? Is it something you anticipate?” – he questioned with a raised eyebrow. – “No.” – you answered tugging at his arm to walk again. – “I was simply curious.” – you mumbled turning your head away from him.

To be fair you were a bit curious off his reaction. You did leave him standing alone at the ball. Rejecting him for the entire ton to see. You hoped he didn’t resent you for it. Or perhaps you hoped he might forgive you. Perhaps he was your only chance of getting out of your aunt’s clutches. The thought alone frightened you. Knowing that your aunt would start meddling herself into your life. Marrying you off to anyone suitable enough in her eyes. Take you away from your family for proper etiquettes. Wanting you to be as stiff and stuffy as all the other ladies throwing themselves at any man possible simply because they can’t get any better.

That was not what you wanted. Far from. You wanted to marry for love if it allow itself to you. At this point you didn’t think you were worthy of love anymore. Sherlock must have noticed the self-pity in your eyes as he gave you a nudge with his elbow. Making you look up to his warming smile. It made you smile faintly back, letting your head rest against his shoulder. Sherlock took a deep breath wishing love upon you so hard. If anyone deserved it, it was you.

You lifted your head back up upon arriving at the park. – “Now what are we here for?” – you questioned. Sherlock just smiled. – “A nice walk.” – he responded not pleasing you with his answer. Now it truly felt like he was hiding something from you. – “Sherlock Holmes now I know you are hiding things from me!” – you outed with a stern expression. Sherlock chuckled at your attempt of a motherly scowl. – “I wouldn’t dream of it sister.”

You puffed loud turning your head away. Sherlock led you down the pathway, greeting some people sitting on the benches with a nod. Up ahead you saw a carriage stand in the middle of the road. Sherlock breathed in as his chest rose. He picked up his pace, dragging you along. You tagged along confused as he walked to the side of the carriage. – “Are…are we getting in?” – you asked confused. Sherlock opened the carriage door pushing you inside. At the same time the door on the other side opened as well.

“You are!” – Sherlock spoke as you felt another body bump against yours. Turning your head your eyes widened at the sight of Lord Bridgerton. His eyes equally shocked. You and Anthony each grabbed for the door on your side. Sherlock shut the door firmly almost in your face. – “Sherlock!” – you called out frustrated. – “Mother!” – Anthony shouted at the same time. You turned your head seeing Miss Bridgerton at his side, keeping the door shut just like your brother did.

“Start the carriage!” – Violet called out with a smile. – “Stop the carriage!” – you screamed out wanting to get off. – “Whatever you do, do not stop this carriage till you reach your destination!” – Sherlock made clear to the driver, flipping him a few coins. The driver tipped his hat to Sherlock, signalling the horses to ride off. Anthony and you fell back against the seats as you rode off. With a lot of effort you pulled yourself forwards as the carriage was speeding. Not just a stroll around the park, but almost galloping.

You grabbed for the handle pushing it open as the door swung open. Your body nearly falling over when you stared down at the quick passing gravely road. A pair of hands on your waist. – “Are you insane!?” – Anthony shouted pulling you back inside the carriage. You automatically closed the door once more as your hand was still on the handle. Panting loud you needed a second. – “Did you truly plan on jumping out of a riding carriage just to get away from me?” – Anthony questioned rudely. – “The offer was tempting.” – you responded making him puff loud.

Anthony and you both turned away from each other looking outside of the carriage. It toggled and bumped around as you could barely sit still. – “I cannot believe Sherlock would trick me this much.” – you mumbled under your breath. – “Or mama.” – Anthony breathed out. His head turned slightly to you as you intended the same. Catching each other’s gaze. It locked in tight, unable to look away. In this moment your breathing became heavier. The yearning for him rising up in tide-waves. Each wave more intense than the one before.

Blinking softly it occurred to you what you were doing. How madly in love your eyes must have looked. Anthony reacted the same way pulling away at the same time as you. Both looking away. Taking a deep breath you let yourself slouch back against the seat. – “What is it?” – Anthony asked with care in his voice. No hint of mockery in his tone. You fidgeted with your fingers on your lap. – “The season will come closer to an end than we expect.” – you told him. – “It won’t be long anymore till I have to say goodbye to it all.”

Anthony was slightly confused with shock. He got up coming to sit in front of you. – “What are you referring to?” – he asked. – “Are… are you…” – he spoke barely able to say it out loud. Something inside of him hoping it wouldn’t be the case. – “No.” – you answered with a shake of your head. Anthony exhaled relieved barely seeable to you. – “I am not engaged my lord or will ever be…” – you went on with a saddened expression. Anthony’s expression full of pity as you reminded him of himself in this moment.

You let your eyes fall onto him. – “Perhaps I have taken all the chances at love that I deserve?” – you told him letting your gaze fall briefly onto his lips. Taking a deep breath, you tore your gaze away from them. – “It doesn’t matter truly for I won’t be able to escape my aunt’s restrictions.” – you continued as Anthony gaped at you. – “Soon you won’t have any trouble of me anymore, my lord.” – you finished.

“By the end of the season I’ll leave to join my aunt where she will groom me to find a match to her liking. It is what has been agreed between my father and her long ago.” – you explained. Anthony took a deep breath with concern. The carriage came to a stop. The glance in his eyes making you scrunch your eyebrows.

The footman opened the door startling you. The moment interrupted as you got out. There you saw your brother waiting for you. You glared at him, storming over to him. Anthony got out numbly. Almost missing his step and stumbling over his own feet. – “Anthony?” – Violet said seeing the sadness in his eyes. – “Sister?” – Sherlock spoke. – “Don’t!” – you made clear wiping your cheek aggressively. He turned to look confused at Violet. It sure must’ve worked right? They had planned it so thoroughly. Violet smiled faintly back at him, moving Anthony closer to her.

With her arm over his shoulder, Violet and Anthony parted ways from Sherlock and you. Sherlock turned round jogging up to you as you had walked off.  He didn’t dare to ask how it went upon seeing your distressed reaction. Perhaps it was harder than he expected. To be fair he was very known with the stubbornness of the Holmes’s. The two of you arrived at the estate again. The doorman opening the door to you. – “Do not trick me again!” – was the only thing you said with a loud tone. Sherlock swallowed feeling a bit shameful.

You wanted to storm off to your room when Mycroft appeared from out of the Parlor, clearing his throat nervously. Sherlock stretched his hand out, tapping you gently against the elbow to draw your attention. Mycroft delicately closed the door behind him. – “We… we have a situation.” – he said before you heard the familiar voice of your aunt. Your eyes widened looking frightened at Sherlock. – “Have they arrived?” – you heard her shrill voice come from the Parlor.

The door opened as it bumped against Mycroft’s back making him stumble forwards. Your aunt smiled as wrinkles showed around her eyes and mouth. With open arms she made her way over to you. Sherlock stepping aside to leave room for your aunt to give you an uncomfortable hug. – “Look at you!” – she said unsure to you if it was an insult or not. She tilted your chin up, turning it to the side to have a good look of you. – “I should’ve come sooner.” – she mumbled.

“But!” – she clasped her hands together in delight. – “Tell me Y/n have you found a match yet? Has there been a proposal? Should I expect wedding bells?” – she asked vigorously. – “There has not been.” – you told her honestly. – “Why Y/n the end of the season is nearing. Have you been absent from any balls?” – She turned rudely to your brothers. – “Have there been no gentleman’s offerings? Visits? Interests?” – she wanted to know.

“There…” – Mycroft started. – “There is a gentleman interested… is it not Sherlock?” – Mycroft narrowed his eyes at Sherlock hoping his little scheme of today would be fruitful. Sherlock cleared his throat. – “In the process.” – he answered nervously. He could see Mycroft sigh disappointed and nervous. – “In the process? Sherlock we cannot wait for the process! Y/n must be married off this season to give this family some stability.” – she responded with diplomacy. – “We understand aunt but…” – Mycroft began as he got cut off by her. – “I don’t think you understand well enough!” – she responded bitsy.

“Y/n is running out of time! You shouldn’t have let it come this far. I will not have my niece turn into a hag.” – she finished off. – “Aunt!” – Sherlock called out with a hateful look in his eyes. – “Do not disrespect her!” – he made clear. She simply huffed. She spun back around to you holding her fingers sternly up to you. – “By the end of the season you will come with me and marry the man I offer you!” – she made clear. – “No!” – Mycroft said coming to stand in between. – “Stand aside boy!” – she answered with a hard stare. – “You had your task and failed miserably.” –

Sherlock came joining his brother’s side, blocking you out of her sight. – “You cannot force her to marry out of diplomacy.” – Sherlock outed. – “Oh but I can.” – she answered. You took a deep breath stepping from behind your brothers. They both shook their head knowing you were about to give in. You moved in front of them, curtsying at your aunt. Your aunt smiled proudly. She took you by the wrist. – “Let us have some tea.” – you got pulled back into the Parlor. The second the door shut grabbed your brother Mycroft for Sherlock’s shirt. – “You told me it would work!” – he called out, shaking him around.

“It should’ve!” – Sherlock answered loudly, pushing his hands off. – “I cannot hold her off any longer Sherlock! Our sister is going to be taken away from us in a matter I do not agree upon.” – Mycroft said. Oh how much his character had grown over the months. From a posh man wanting to have you out of his hands to a caring man fighting for his family. – “I will fix it!” – Sherlock replied. – “How? At this rate I don’t see anything happening in the upcoming five years.” – he sighed out letting himself fall exhaustedly against the wall. – “I will figure it out.” – Sherlock said.

The ball was not to your liking. It felt like a goodbye to everything. It felt like the last thing keeping you close to your roots here in London. No intrigued you to join. Standing at the side you watched how everyone socialised. Taking a deep breath you felt out of place. Having no desire or interest in mingling among the people. Perhaps you had already given up. Given up on the last few chances of finding a match. Of finding someone equally to you. Someone you could see yourself love.

Glancing to your right you saw your brothers near.  They too had a saddened expression. The ball to no interest to them. It pained you to see them knowing of the trouble they went through. Knowing you had a hand to play in this. Perhaps you have been too stubborn. Too much against it and not willingly. Perhaps… perhaps…Looking back at the dancers you saw Colin Bridgerton amongst them. Colin… Bridgerton.

Your mind went instantly to Anthony. Feeling your chest warm up at the simple thought of him. Not so long ago you saw a future with him. Despite the bickering and competitive you still admired him underneath. Secretly loved how he would provoke you. Send you off into frustration and to your boiling point. Oh how much you loved to get so worked up over him.

Yet it wasn’t meant to be. Your stubbornness had won in flying colours. In need of fresh air you got in motion. Your brother Sherlock wanted to go after you, but Mycroft held him back. Shaking his head in speech of letting you have your space. You made your way through the crowd towards the gardens. Brushing past people to reach the other side. Walking out, you were greeted by a soft breeze. The night sky bright. You made your way over to some bush roses.

Looking up to the sky, you were in deep thought. Anthony had found a way outside. Having almost entirely searched the estate in search. Looking thoroughly and with a destined purpose. Every inch around he wanted to have seen. He neared to the rose bushes that were overgrown like a small forest around the estate.

He turned around, leaning back with furrowed brows. There between the rose bushes he saw his purpose. With determination and without a second thought he made his way over. Finally he had a clear view. A clear view of you. You glanced to the side, having spotted a sudden appearance in the corner of your vision.

Anthony neared looking breathlessly at you. – “Do you still plan on to leave with your aunt?” – he questioned with a mournful expression. – “It is what is intended… for me.” – you responded. – “I am apparently made to save my family from ruin.” – you told him. – “You love your family dearly.” – he spoke coming more over to you. You were looking down fumbling a bit with your dress. – “As much as you love yours.” – you told him without a glance. With a deep breath you finally dared yourself to look up.

Struck instantly by his overwhelming gaze. The brightness in his eyes that could light a fire. – “I was fearful of losing you.” – he confessed with a hard swallow. Admitting his feelings so openly to you felt vulnerable. – “That is why I became… after your accident… I couldn’t…” – he slightly shook his head vowing his words to you. You took a deep breath when Anthony neared more. – “I love you.” – he outed.

“I have loved you from the moment you insulted me.” – taking one more step closer to you. – “I have loved you at every dance, on every walk. Every time we have been together and every time we have been apart. You do not have to accept it or even embrace it but you must know it, in your heart.” – Anthony expressed deeply. He took your hand making you look down at the gesture.

“You must feel it, because I do.” – he pressed his hand onto his chest, staring deeply at you. – “I love you.” – he repeated with all his heart. You scrunched your eyebrow softly at him. – “I don’t not know what to say.” – you told him. – “You don’t have to say anything.” – he answered letting his thumb brush against your hand he was still holding. – “I do not think there is anything else to say… other than I love you too.” – you answered heartily. Anthony exhaled stunned. – “You…” – he breathed out. You lowered your head smiling foolishly at yourself. He looked down taking your other hand in his too.

“I know I am imperfect but I will humble myself before you, because I cannot imagine my life without you and that is why I wish to marry you.” – he spoke with a smile. You returned his smile with one of your own. – “You do know there will not be a day that you shall not vex me.” – you told him teasingly. Anthony let go of your hand allowing his hand to go around your waist to your lower back. – “Is that a promise Y/n Holmes?” – he responded smug. You moved your head closer to his, drawn to him. – “It is a promise.” – you breathed out wanting his lips on yours.

Anthony inhaled deep near your lips, anticipating the moment your lips would touch. – “You are not going anywhere Y/n.” – he whispered to you teasing your lips with the presence of his. You vigorously shook your head moving your hands around his neck. – “I shall not.” – you replied before you forced your lips onto his. An explosion of feelings bursting inside of you. Lips kissing each other with the upmost passion and longing.

Your body being pressed against his, wanting you as deeply as he could. No more you needed to feel saddened. No more you needed to leave. No more you were unloved having finally found your match.

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

Read more of my fic’s on my Masterlists!

[angelltheninth]

NSFW Masterlist Part 3

MCU

Tony Stark x Fem!Reader - Only a Touch

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader - Interrogation and Reward

Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader - Silver Tongued Devil

Pietro Maximoff x Fem!Reader - Empty on the Inside

Namor Eating You Out

Namor with a Breeding Kink

MCU Characters + Boobs or Ass

Peter Maximoff with a Flexible Reader

DC COMICS

Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader - Restraining Vengeance

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader - Shopping Has Many Benefits

Catching Bruce Masturbating

Dick Grayson x Fem!Reader - Warm Showers Always Help

Bruce Wayne with a Virgin Reader

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader - Remind Me to Hate You

ARCANE

Finn x Fem!Reader x Sevika - Sharing is Caring or Something Like It

Sevika x Fem!Reader - Beauty in the Eye of the Beholder

Marcus x Fem!Reader - Tell Me Under the Table

Vander Getting Cockblocked

Giving Arcane Characters Oral While They Work

Dominant Vander Headcanons

Arcane Women + Mutual Masturbation

Friends with Benefits with Vi

Silco x Fem!Reader - Quaking with Lust

Resolved Sexual Tension with Vi

Arcane Men + Morning Wood

Vander Being Too Big For You

Arcane Men + How Long Do They Last

GENSHIN IMPACT

Genshin Impact Men + Sex Pollen

Scaramouche x Fem!Reader - Unpleasant Yet Greedy

Zhongli x Fem!Reader - Instincts of a Calm Mind

Cyno + Sir Kink

Dainsleif x Fem!Reader - More Than You Can Take

Dottore x Fem!Reader - Knife Treatment

Tighnari Spends Your Heat with You

Zhongli x Fem!Bunny!Reader

Childe With A Pregnant Reader

Genshin Men with a Succubus Girlfriend

Genshin Men + Boobs, Ass or Thighs

Incubus Kaveh and Al-Haitham

Yandere Itto Headcanons

Genshin Men Having a Baby Fever

Itto and Gorou when You Ask Them to Breed You

Ayato, Cyno, Al-Haitham and Kaveh Take Your Virginity

Enemies to Lovers with Itto

Abyss Lumine Dominates You

Friends with Benefits with Genshin Men

Wedding Night with Gentle!Dom!Pantalone

Teasing Genshin Men Under the Table

Pantalone, Ayato and Zhongli During a Striptease

Giving Childe a Blowjob After a Shower

Genshin Men Reacting to Cock Worship

Professor Zhongli Headcanons

Genshin Men with a S/O Who's Shy During Sex

Scaramouche with A Wolf!Hybrid!Reader in Heat

Kaeya x Fem!Reader - Helping Hand

BLUE LOCK

Letting Ryosuke Use You for Stress Relief

Making Out with Bachira

Cockwarming Sae

Being Baro's Reward

Bachira Fucks You in His Sleep

Bachira Eating You Out

Kunigami Rensuke + Dry Humping

TWISTED WONDERLAND

Jamil Viper x Fem!Reader - Poison Just as Sweet

Rook Hunt x Fem!Reader - Ride You Don't Want to End

Virginity Loss with Jamil Viper

Trey Clover x Fem!Reader - Man of Many Talents

Azul Ashengrotto x Fem!Reader - I Was Meant to Be Yours

VALORANT

Rivals to Lovers with Yoru

Harbor x Fem!Reader - Absence Makes the Horny Grow Stronger

Viper x Fem!Reader - Snake Eyes

Reyna x Fem!Reader - A Little Death Before the Gala

Fade x Fem!Reader - Who Will You Be When You're Afraid

Chamber x Fem!Reader - Buying What You're Selling Them

JUJUTSU KAISEN

Sukuna x Fem!Reader - The Hating Game

Haruta Being Overstimulated

Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader - Way of the Househusband Nanami Kento

Sukuna x Fem!Reader - One Hell of a Time

Pussydrunk Geto Suguru Headcanons

YUUKOKU NO MORIARTY

Albert James Moriarty x Fem!Reader - Mind Over Lust

Sherlock Holmes Gets Needy in Your Office

William James Moriarty x Fem!Reader - Know Your Place

CHAINSAW MAN

Aki Hayakawa x Fem!Reader - Win Your Prize

Makima x Fem!Reader - Pretty Little Pet

Aki Hayakawa x Fem!Reader - Pass Me Your Last Cigarette

Car Sex with Aki Hayakawa

First Time with Aki Hayakawa, Kishibe and Angel Devil

THE ARCANA

Portia x Fem!Reader - Little Slice of Heaven

Asra x Fem!Reader - Sell Me a Dream

Bondage and Brat Taming with Julian Devorak

A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE

Pregnant Sex with Daemon

Daemon x Fem!Reader - Piece Offering to the Cruel Prince

Aemond + Dirty Talk

Gossip and Dumbification with Dom!Daddy Larys Strong

Post Injury Recovery Sex with Daemon

STAR WARS

The Bad Batch + Stamina

Cassian Andor x Fem!Reader - It's Called a Cockpit for a Reason

Darth Maul x Fem!Reader - Cold, Hard Touch

Star Wars Men Threesomes

Cassian Andor Thanks You in A Special Way

The Bad Batch NSFW Headcanons

[cryptidcorners]

Could I have a fluffy imagine/one-shot of Mike with a librarian girl? Like Mike goes back to the place he got the dream book from, and now he wants something to get his mind off (the trauma of the movie) so the librarian helps him find something else he’d like. Maybe a Sherlock Holmes detective or something. Thanks so much!

~ Mike Schmidt x Reader ~

= Title: Friendly Nostalgia

= Character: Mike Schmidt

= Media: Movie!Five Nights At Freddie's

= Prompt: N/A

= Description: The aftermath of Mike's job as a security guard had got him thinking, as well as tripled his internal hardships. In an attempt to cool his troubling mind, Mike decides to go into his old library to find one of his favorite literatures, and maybe a new friend along the way.

= Request: "Could I have a fluffy imagine/one-shot of Mike with a librarian girl? Like Mike goes back to the place he got the dream book from, and now he wants something to get his mind off (the trauma of the movie) so the librarian helps him find something else he’d like. Maybe a Sherlock Holmes detective or something. Thanks so much!"

= Tags: Fluff ! Small Angst? Librarian Reader + Setting, Shy Mike, Sweet Talk, One-Shot, Platonic (with Slight Romantic Implications? It's up for you to decide !) + Reader is !Fem

= Warnings: Childhood Trauma + Kidnapping Mentions, Child Death/Spirits, Struggles with Mental Health (Depression, Anxiety, Stress) + FNAF Movie Spoilers !

Morning birds flocked through the featherweighted clouds thinning across the fresh sky. A chilled exhale rattled out of Mike's throat, the cold dawning air nipping at his skin. His head was foggy with exhaustion, yet flickering with soft excitement. The streets were empty, much to his content. Crowded boulevards and sputtering car exhaust muddied his senses, he hated it more than anything.

He shoved his reddened hands down his pockets to shield the breezes from his fingertips. Mike hated the overwhelming traits of the outside world even more after his accursed job as a solo-unit of security. The crumbled children in the machines, Vanessa wilting away within her hospital bed and William. It was too much and he couldn't handle it.

This whole mess was the reason he was heading towards his local library, one he hadn't stepped in the years. It was the only place he was comfortable visiting now. It was quiet, no people to talk to, and he'd be able to pluck out his favorite contents in peace.

Mike had been particularly fixated on Sherlock Holmes, lately. The whole idea of mysteries had made him want to learn more, even after being injured at Freddie's. Weirdly enough, after scavenging through his old contents, it unraveled more and more about what happened those dreaded nights ago.

Mike hummed quietly as he lazily pushed the glass door. The silence calmed his senses. There were a few locals, but they were buried between pages. After awkwardly exposing his card and being gently discarded to explore the aisles alone. He started trailing around the mystery section. He couldn't pick one story, so he was doing nothing but strolling.

"Do you need some help?" A voice peaked his shoulders for a flash. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you, sir."

You apologized, your voice was soothed. Mike shook his head gently, "No, no. It's fine, don't worry."

A smile spreads across your lips and you read the aisle with an eager eye. "You like mystery?"

"I've just gotten into it, really." Mike slid his hands through his curls promptly. It was strange how comfortable he felt, it felt tender, weird enough. "It's a sweet genre. I like it when it keeps me guessing. Gets my mind off everything."

"Yeah. Fiction is a great outlet, that's why I became a librarian." You explained warmly, "It's something I've always dreamed of."

Mike released a breathy chuckle in response, unsure how to reply.

You extended your hand towards the neatly rowed bookshelf, trailing your finger until you slipped out a rough looking cover. Your eyes wandered to him, "You like Sherlock Holmes?"

"He's actually the reason I'm here." Mike tilted his head lightly with a calmed grin. He had no idea why he felt so comfortable around some random librarian girl he had just met, but he had no internal reason to question it. "I have a few of his stories at my house, my little sister found them."

"That's adorable," you brushed your cheek. "Maybe you'd like this one. Personally, I think it's one of his most underrated works." You handed him the book, and his eyes flickered up and down in interest.

"Wow,"

"Cool right?"

Mike nodded.

"I don't think I've seen you before here, uh," You trailed off.

"Oh. Oh, sorry, I'm Mike. Mike Schmidt," He shook your hand softly. "I actually haven't been here in a long time."

You arched a brow, face still settled, "What made you come back?"

"Well, first off, Sherlock Holmes." He shook the book lightly with a low chuckle. "And, well, work. It's been hard, so, I thought I could read a bit to calm things down."

You curled down to pile some scattered books in your hand, "Well, I hope you come back again, Mike. Maybe we can talk about some more stories, outside of here of course. I get a bit loud with stories."

You both chuckled, "I'll come back. I could always use some more mystery." Mike had been clutching the book with eager hands, along with a fluttered expression. He hadn't connected with someone in quite a while. It felt refreshing.

"Well, I have to get back to work. Goodbye, Mike." You stirred back into the halls. Mike whispered in response. "Thank you,"

He wanted to talk more, but, he didn't want to hold you back. Mike's eyes flew down to the hard-leathered surface. He chewed his lip,

I should have asked her for her name . . .

And with that thought resting heavily in his mind, Mike left the library, with a giddy attitude and a little too many mystery books in his hands.

[lykaonimagines]

Exact Opposite - Sherlock x Reader

Paring: Sherlock Holmes (BBC) x F!Reader

Word Count: 2,427

Description: When his brother still refuses to get dressed and take the case he has for him seriously, Mycroft calls in Y/N to handle the situation. 

Other Things: Established relationship. Takes place during A Scandal in Belgravia. Reimagining of the scene in the palace where Sherlock refuses to get dressed. Dressing Sherlock.

Warnings: Suggestive. Suggestive teasing/touches and Sherlock being naked as per scene. Not exactly NSFW, but if you don’t like anything sexual at all, may be uncomfortable.  Some swearing. Being snatched off the street by Mycroft’s agents.

Masterlist

Y/N certainly hadn’t expected to be plucked up off the side of the street on her lunch break by Mycroft’s agents. Then again, it was probably better to just assume it could happen at any time the elder Holmes brother willed it. 

She’d argued in the street with them for a few minutes, insisting she had to at the very least go back and let them know she wouldn’t be returning for the afternoon. But as most interactions with his agents go, they scooped her up into the car and informed her Mycroft had it handled. Because of course he did. 

None of his agents ever tended to be in the mood to chat either. From friendly banter to actual information about where the hell she was being carted away to this time, the most she usually received was a grunt or that ‘Mr. Holmes requests your presence’.”

Pretentious statement as always. Though this time slightly more informative, “Mr. Holmes requires your assistance.”

Clearly related to Sherlock, Mycroft rarely saw any need for her to be around as a whole. Generally he stuck to ignoring her presence at the flat or at Sherlock’s side, a sentiment she ended up reflecting back after several failed attempts at creating some sort of friendly dialog with her boyfriend’s brother. 

That is, until he feels he needs to step in or he transports her somewhere on Sherlock’s request. Beyond that, they had little to do with one another. So clearly for her ‘assistance’ to be requested so hastily, it had to be related to Sherlock. 

A queasy feeling settles in her gut at the thought. He needs her assistance… and had his agents immediately throw her into the car. Was Sherlock hurt? Staring out the tinted windows, she dreads the thought of a hospital coming into view. 

But as they continue on and she starts to pinpoint the surroundings, she’s dumbstruck by the car pulling up to Buckingham Palace.

“Are we… at the right place?” She asks hesitantly as an agent opens her door. 

He nods sharply and grasps her arm to pull her from the seat, “Mr. Holmes is waiting for you inside.”

“Right, of course. Mycroft just had me brought here for a cup of tea with him and the Queen huh?” She snaps as she pulls her arm back in annoyance. 

The agent sighs and reaches for her arm once again but she pulls away, “You need to come with me Miss.” 

“I will, you can lead me there without holding onto me like a misbehaving child.”

Shaking his head in annoyance, the agent nods toward the entrance and starts off, glancing back several times to make sure she’s following. 

“I’m not going to run off, calm down.”

“If you do, it’s my head,” he grumbles, straightening up as another agent approaches them and speaks into his ear quietly. “This way, quickly please.”

Speeding up to keep up with the agent, she nearly runs into him as he suddenly stops in her path. He grabs her arms tightly and turns her toward a corner and shoves her in the direction. 

“Hey-!” She snaps as she stumbles into the opening, freezing as four sets of eyes snap up to her. Immediately recognizing the two brothers and John, she zeros in quickly on her boyfriend. 

Her very naked boyfriend. Sitting in a sheet. In Buckingham Palace. 

“Ah finally you join us Ms. Y/L/N,” Mycroft states with a pained smile. 

“I was on my lunch break when… I’m sorry but Sherlock why are you only in our bedsheet?” She asks bewildered as his cheeks flush. 

“This is how they decided to bring me,” he states unhappily and shrugs. “I didn’t want to be here.”

Her gaze immediately goes to John who also shrugs, “Don’t look at me, he had me out of the city with a laptop to video call him for a six. He was like this when I got here.” 

Looking back at the detective with a raised brow, Sherlock furrows his own and looks away from her, “Mycroft you didn’t need to interrupt her day as well.”

“Oh but I did. Y/N handle him. This is a matter of national importance, and this can’t continue,” he gestures angrily toward Sherlock.

“Yes, I see. Got it,” she answers, accepting the pile of his clothes from Mycroft. “Is there a bathroom or private room nearby?”

“Out the hall you came in, first door on your left,” the man she doesn’t recognize responds. 

Tucking the clothes under her arm, she goes to stand in front of Sherlock and extends her hand to him. 

Pouting his lips, Sherlock holds her gaze and tightens his sheet to himself. 

“Sherlock, please just come with me.”

Sherlock reluctantly shifts the sheet around and lets her take ahold of his hand, quickly pulling him up from the couch and out of the room. 

She tugs him into mentioned room, locking the door behind them. Turning to face Sherlock, she glances around the pristine bathroom and sighs, “Seriously?”

“They practically kidnapped me from the flat, I’m allowed to be naked in my own home.” 

“You know how this shit works, if he really wants you there, you’re going to be there. I was literally picked up and shoved into a car myself today. When it became obvious they weren’t going to take no for an answer, why wouldn’t you just get dressed?”

“They handled you like that? They actually lifted you and shoved you into the car?” He asks sharply as he takes a step closer to her. 

“I was arguing that I couldn’t just disappear over my lunch break without telling anyone, and they didn’t like that answer,” Y/N shrugs and sets the pile of clothes on the counter by the sink. “Not a terribly unexpected thing. Annoying, but I’ve accepted when Mycroft decides I’m going somewhere, I’m going there. I’d have thought you’d have accepted that long ago as well seeing as he’s your brother.” 

“They’re not supposed to touch you,” Sherlock practically growls, his eyes flickering over her form and narrowing.

Taking a step closer, he runs his fingers gently over a red mark on her arm, “Name of the agents. Or descriptions.” 

“Sherlock they-”

“No,” he interrupts her and reaches his free hand up to stroke her cheek. “They’re not allowed to touch you unless it’s a matter of saving your life. That’s the agreement. And they certainly shouldn’t be handling you so roughly they leave marks.”

“We can talk about all that later, if you haven’t noticed we’re in a fancy loo in the middle of a palace, and you’re naked,” she responds and reaches out to grab ahold of the sheet. “Now could we please get you dressed? The sooner you get dressed and hear out Mycroft, the sooner we can leave.”

“We?” He asks curiously, nodding at her as she pulls the sheet down from his body. 

“Mhm, thought maybe you’d be more motivated that way,” her hand brushes slowly down his chest, her fingers gently running through the hair there. “And as fortunate as the rest of London would be to get a glimpse of this on the evening news, I think you have a certain look that you like to uphold my posh boy.” 

“You make good points, yet do things to encourage the exact opposite of getting dressed dear,” he clears his throat roughly, one of his hands going to her hip. 

Leaning into him, she presses several slow, languid kisses along his collar bone, “We can’t do anything of that sort here of course. Consider this… inspiration to get this all taken care of quickly so I can take you apart properly at home.” 

Sherlock shivers at the contact and closes his eyes tightly, “You’re being absolutely wicked today.” 

“I was dragged across the city to Buckingham Palace to make my boyfriend put his pants on, I think I have the right to be a little unfair,” she chuckles against him as she continues her trail of kisses up the expanse of his neck. 

“Mm- fine,” he relents, pulling her in closer and nuzzling his face into her own neck. 

“Now who’s the one saying one thing yet doing another?” She chuckles as he grunts against her and she reaches over to pull his pants from the pile. 

Ducking down, she holds them out for him as he rolls his eyes at her and huffs in annoyance, “I can dress myself.” 

“Could have fooled me,” she teases and nods down at them. “Step in.”

Sherlock sighs and finally steps into them, letting her pull the black boxer-briefs up his long legs. Settling the waistband into place, she presses a soft kiss to his abdomen. 

“And trousers next,” she states, also pulling them from the counter and holding them out for him to step into.

He does so quickly, watching her as she pulls the fabric up, and grunting in annoyance as she carefully drags the zipper up over his growing problem. 

“Wouldn’t be as much of an issue if you didn’t get everything tailored so tightly,” she remarks and slots the button in place. 

“You complain, yet you enjoy it,” he remarks with a smirk and kneads his fingers into her hips. “You aren’t subtle.”

“Am I supposed to subtly check out my boyfriend’s arse? I thought being allowed to look was just a perk of dating,” she teases, pulling out his dress shirt from the pile and shaking it out. “It creased a bit, but it’ll have to do for today.” 

“Of course it is,” he sighs unhappily, holding his arms out for her. 

Slipping the first sleeve up his arm, she goes behind him to press a kiss to the base of his neck, causing a shiver to run up his body, “Always so sensitive love.” 

“If you keep this up much longer, we’re both going to be leaving immediately after this,” he pouts, slipping his own arm into the opposite sleeve. 

Coming back around him, she deftly does up the buttons of his dress shirt. Carefully tucking it into his trousers, she circles around him to pull out any wrinkles the best she can. 

“Now I’ll let you handle your shoes and socks yourself since you’re behaving,” she chuckles and clears a space away on the counter for him. 

Rolling his eyes, he hops up onto the counter and sets to the task. 

Her mind wanders as she watches him, his long fingers moving swiftly across the laces.

“Distracted by something?” He asks after a few minutes, a smug grin on his face as she’s pulled from her thoughts and looks back up at him. 

“Always you.” She pushes his legs apart to stand between them, “You are quite distracting.” 

“I find myself in a similar problem with you,” his hands cup her jaw as his thumbs stroke over her cheeks. “You’ve made my life far more complicated.” 

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” she teases, leaning in to press a chaste kiss to his lips. 

“Oh it’s truly terrible,” he says lowly, pulling her face back to his own to kiss her again. His tongue swipes along her lip and he smiles in triumph at the sound that escapes her. “And yet I find myself liking nearly every moment of it.”

“Poor Sherlock, being forced to confront the fact he has feelings,” her hands squeeze his clothed thighs. 

“There are some advantages to sentiment though I suppose,” he continues, opting to press various kisses across her face. “I quite enjoy all this.”

“As do I,” she agrees, taking a step back from him and grabbing his suit jacket from beside him. “Now hop off and get this on.” 

Letting out an exaggerated sigh, Sherlock slips to the floor and accepts his jacket from her. Pulling it onto his frame quickly, he glances into the large opulent mirror beside them. 

“At least the agents have good taste,” she remarks, reaching out to smooth out his jacket. “I love this suit on you, especially with the black shirt underneath.”

“I know you do,” he smirks and reaches up to run his fingers through his hair trying to tame the curls. 

Circling behind him, Y/N sets to fixing the back of his hair, “I think this is the best we’re going to be able to do without any product.” 

“If he plans on sending me anywhere, I’m going back to the flat first,” Sherlock complains as he stares at his reflection. “I’m not staying like this all day.” 

“If you’d have cooperated in the first place you wouldn’t have had to go out like that at all,” she counters, chuckling at his scowl. 

“You really think they’d have let me fix my hair for the day?”

“Mm, good point, probably not.” 

“I don’t want to do this case,” he sighs after a moment. 

“Why not?”

“I don’t do anonymous clients. He knows that. I’m always going to be missing information, and that’s not how I work.”

“Well it’s not your ideal… but look around. Based on where we are, that he had you dragged here in literally a bedsheet, and says it’s a matter of national importance. I think you can narrow it down to someone from a specific family of people. Depending on the rest of the facts, I think you can get by on that information. Besides, he’s not going to let this go.”

“I’m not a child, he can’t just force me to take the cases he wants me to.”

“Well he can make life really inconvenient for us if you refuse. And as annoying as being carted away and expected to do whatever it is; he is rather useful when you need him. He also cares for you, not that either of you would admit that without threat of death or dismemberment.”

Sighing once again, Sherlock turns away from the mirror and gives her a stiff nod, “I will listen to what they have to say. But if I don’t like it, we’re leaving.”

“Sounds like a deal, just give it a shot. Something this big is bound to be interesting anyways.”

Giving him one last look over, she gathers up their bedsheet from the ground and puts her hand on the doorknob. 

Reaching out to her, Sherlock carefully intertwines his fingers with hers as she pulls open the door with her other hand, a soft smile on his face. 

“To battle then?” She asks, squeezing his hand in hers. 

“To battle.”

----

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[lazydoodlesandfanfic]

Keeping Quiet (Sherlock & Mycroft X Deaf!Brother!Reader) *PLATONIC

Characters: Sherlock & Mycroft X Deaf!Brother!Reader

Universe: Sherlock

Warnings: Severe bullying, injuries, turf burn, mention of violence

Request: Hi, can I request?, a Holmes brother fic, where reader is their youngest brother who is in high school/university getting bullied bc their disability(mute/deaf) and how their deal with that situation, I kinda want reader to be a ball of sunshine who always smile but are sad inside and although they can see through his smile, they struggle to find a way to help them. 🥺

Your life from the get go has always been a little harder than other kids your age. For one, you were the youngest Holmes, which wasn’t necessarily a problem, though when you were born your eldest brother had already graduated university, and your other brother was a teenager not far from leaving school. With their own unique personalities, they struggled to connect you immediately, and you didn’t see them much as a young child. However, since starting Secondary school, they had become a bit more involved, especially since you had moved in with your eldest brother so you could attend a good school that was closer to him, however, you were still mostly by yourself, especially since how work driven both your brother’s were. Oh yeah, and the other thing that made your life a little harder- you were deaf. 

A silent world was all you had known since birth, and because of that, you didn’t have to adjust to any change, instead you just learned to do things differently, like when trying to cross a road on a corner, you’d look at those around you to see if they were going to cross, knowing that if the road was clear and they didn’t move, they could hear a car coming. You never had speech therapy growing up, and since when growing up your parents and brothers always communicated with you with sign language, you never used your voice. To you, your hands were your voice, and the thing in your throat that let you make noises was only for dire emergencies to get immediate attention. 

Right now, you were convinced this wasn’t an emergency, but you had the overwhelming urge to just scream as hard as you can. You wanted so badly to be heard, but feared backlash, either from your peers of your issues being perceived as fake or not nowhere near as bad as you felt they were, or backlash from the people who were making you feel like this. 

You’d just gotten home from school, and you entered as quietly as you could, closing the door briskly and looking around, not sure if Mycroft was home, and you didn’t want to see him right now. You closed the front door, looking at the empty coat hook where you’d usually place your coat, except you didn’t have it with you, so instead you just kicked off your shoes and tried to head to your bedroom with your school bag. However, for obvious reasons, you hadn’t heard Mycroft and Sherlock bickering in the other room, or that they had promptly stopped when the front door shut loudly from how quickly you had shut, followed by your footsteps through the house at an accelerated rate to your bedroom, and the noise of your door being shut just as quickly as the front door. The two brothers stood in silence, staring in the direction of the noises before turning to face each other. “Something’s wrong.” Sherlock spoke up. 

“I’m aware of that.” Mycroft scoffed, before they began to walk to go up the stairs. Sherlock stopped at the bottom though, though Mycroft continued up. Sherlock checked the entrance of the house, noticing your lack of coat, either meaning you were still wearing it or didn’t have it, and the droplets of water on the floor, as well as your school shoes being shiny and darker than usual, told him it was the latter. It hadn’t rained in the last hour. He finally followed after Myrcoft, who was already trying your door, though it was locked. He turned to Sherlock, and Sherlock’s eyes followed the wet droplet stains in the carpet to your door. “He’s locked himself inside.” Mycroft pointed out.

“Give me your credit card.” Sherlock demanded. Mycroft went into his back pocket, grabbing his wallet and going through it to hand him a card, before Sherlock shoved him out of the way, sliding the card through the door, pushing the lock out, and when it clicked open, he turned the handle opened the door enough to stick his hand in, reaching for the light switch, flicking the lights on and off in your room to get your attention. He didn’t get a reaction from you. No multiple knocks to signify he could enter, and not a singular knock for him not to come in. He waited another moment, before looking at Mycroft who at this point looked worried, fist pressed to his mouth. Sherlock opened the door further.

They didn’t see you when they first stepped into the room, but Sherlock noticed your school bag- wet through, soaking the carpet, dirty, the zip busted, a strap broken, several school books looking ready to fall out after being crammed in that were soggy and ruined. With that, he knew where you were- the small bathroom attached to your room. He walked to the shut door, trying the door, finding this one unlocked, and he slowly stepped in, looking down and to the side, seeing you sat on the floor, legs pulled to your chest, head resting on your knees. 

“Mycroft, go make tea.” Sherlock said monotone, not taking his eyes away from you. Mcroft, who had noticed your bag and was trying to find anything to salvage, stood up straight, processing the situation, before turning and leaving the room. Sherlock slowly entered the bathroom, kneeling down before sitting on the floor beside you, carefully reaching out, lightly tugging on your soaked and dirty school jumper to get your attention. You peeked up, making eye contact, your eyes red and as wet as your uniform. Sherlock didn’t need to ask what happened, and you didn’t need him going on a revenge campaign in your honour, at least not yet. Instead, he signed ‘I’ll run you a hot bath, and you get undressed. Are you hurt?” You sniffed, signing a yes, before you started to take off your jumper, pulling it over your head, and Sherlock’s eyes immediately took notice of the wet white material that had stains of red on your arms, and as he looked closer, he saw your hands, and presumably your forearms as well were scraped up and red raw. Sherlock took your jumper from you, standing up, before signing to you again. “Drop them just outside the door when you’re done.” He said, turning to the bath, plugging the drain, and turning on the taps, before leaving the room, shutting the door behind him.

Mycroft arrived shortly after with a tray, cup of tea and snacks as well, placing it on your bedside table. “What happened?” Mycroft asked. 

“He’s been bullied. I’m not sure what happened, maybe he tried to bring up what was happening or tried to stand up for himself, but it escalated outside of school- his uniform needs to be cleaned and died- where’s your first aid, he’s scraped up as well.” Sherlock listed. Mycroft’s mouth open and closed repeatedly, before he spoke. 

“I-I didn’t know.” He stuttered. “He never… he never told me he was having issues at school. I had no idea.” He explained, and Sherlock frowned. 

“I didn’t know either.” Sherlock added. It wasn’t a lot to say, but it made Mycroft feel so much better. If Sherlock didn’t notice something was wrong until now, then there was practically no way for Mycroft to see either. You hid it, and you hid it well. You hid it from the best. 

“I’ll call the school administration and organise a meeting with them. I’ll find out who did this.” Mycroft decided, reaching out and taking the jumper from Sherlock. “I’ll also get the first aid” he commented, turning and leaving the room again. Sherlock stood in your room, not moving, and he waited until he heard the bath water turn off, the door open, your clothes hit the floor and the door shut again before he turned and went and grabbed the clothes, taking them to be washed with your jumper. Sherlock heard Mycroft on the other side of the house, yelling on the phone about repercussions, demanding a meeting tomorrow, even if it’s the weekend, before his voice became louder, him walking into the same room with Sherlock, wordlessly giving him the first aid before leaving again to continue his argument, and Sherlock headed back upstairs to your room. 

He peeked into your room, seeing you had gotten out, dried off and dressed into your pyjamas, sitting on the edge of your bed. He flashed the lights again to get your attention before stepping in, coming and sitting down on your bedside, carefully taking your hands, rolling up the sleeves to properly see the scrapes and turf burn, which made him wince, imagining the pain in the bath, even though you didn’t make a peep. You didn’t make sound despite the pain, and that really, really bothered him. He wordlessly cleaned them and bandaged them, before signing to you “Are you hurt anywhere else?” You nodded, crawling deeper into the bed so your legs were rested on it, and Sherlock pulled your pant legs up to your knees, seeing even more turf burns, and he copied what he did with your hands, pulling the legs back down when he was done, before he pushed the medical equipment away from him, and waited in front of you till you looked at him. “Why didn’t you tell us?” He signed to you, speaking the words along with it. All he got was a shrug, which Sherlock was not going to accept. “Did they threaten you?” He added. You looked away, before finally signing. 

“It wasn’t too bad. I could handle it, I didn’t want to worry you. But I think someone else reported what they saw and they thought it was me.” You explained to him. 

“So if it wasn’t reported, you hadn’t planned to tell us?” Sherlock questioned. 

“It wasn’t a big deal.” You signed, clearly frustrated, which was paralleled by Sherlock. 

“Well it is now. We’re your brothers, your family. If something bothers you, you tell us, even if you’re annoyed at the way light reflects through a window, or how they’ve changed the packaging on a product in the shops, you tell us. Even if you think it’s harmless or not a big deal, we’d rather you told us about little things instead of hiding things until they become huge things. This is huge now, and we’re going to deal with it.” His signing firm and almost exaggerated. You’d never seen someone yell via sign language, yet here Sherlock was, somehow finding a way to do it, and it was pretty effective. 

“Okay. I’m sorry.” You quickly apologised to try and calm him down, which seemed to work. 

“How long has this been going on? How many of them are there, and what are their names? Tell me everything.” 

A few minutes later, Mycroft finally got off the phone, pacing for a minute to plan his next actions- deciding if he needed to call someone else, or go and check on you, but then Sherlock came into the room, and handed him a piece of paper, with names, examples of what each person did and their role in the attack, and how long it had been going on with a short timeline of other incidents. “I trust this is enough to start with?” Sherlock asked, watching as Mycroft skimmed over it. 

“This has been going on since he started secondary school?” Mycroft questioned, Sherlock briskly nodded, before tapping the paper to make him focus again. “Yes. This is enough. I’ll locate their parents and addresses, gather more information, I’ll have people look into CCTV to see if we can catch any footage of them following, chasing or… attacking him.” Mycroft explained, folding the paper up, before tucking it into his pocket. “How is he?” 

“He’s going to be sore for a while, keep an eye on his injuries- maybe take him to the doctor just to have it on record. He’s not very talkative at the moment, but we really need to get him to start talking to us more about things happening to him. If he’s ever quiet around you, try and engage him and ask about what he’s thinking about, get him out of the habit of keeping everything locked up. Leave the addresses to me. I’ll personally make sure they get the letters about the police investigation when you have it ready.” Sherlock said, walking to the entrance of the house, Mycroft followed him, watching his younger brother grab his coat, swing it around him and put it on. 

“Sherlock, do not threaten them- it’ll not be good for the investigation.” 

“I have no intention of threatening children, Mycroft. But I will make sure the point is put across that those parents have done an awful job and that they shouldn’t have messed with Y/N.” Sherlock promised, before promptly leaving. Mycroft huffed after the door shut, glancing up the stairs, before deciding to make a fresh hot drink for you to get started with a conversation with you.

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

*Not my gif

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

[temporaryrose200]

Hello I just read one of your stories and I absolutely love your writing style. Is it ok if I request a short story of William James Moriarty x reader who is the youngest sister of Sherlock Holmes?

✩You’re something✩

✟pairing: William James Moriarty x Fem Reader

✟genre: Fluff?

✟warning:Not proof read

✟One-Short

✟fandom: Moriarty The Patriot

✟summary: Being a Holmes was tough, there was so much to live up to. But a special somebody helps you through it. Reminding you that you were someone.

✟a/n: None

Being the young sibling of the Holmes brothers wasn’t easily. Constantly being in their shadows, remembering every time when you would introduce yourself people would constantly asking if your brothers were Sherlock and Mycroft. It’s was annoying being the forgotten Holmes child. But there was one person who made you feel like the most special woman in the world. William James Moriarty. A charming man who knew exactly how to treat a woman.

The day you met was when you were going to met up with your brother Sherlock. Two of you arranged to met up with one another at a cafe and when you got there, you were met with a charming young man. Greeting your brother, you pulled up a nearby chair and sat yourself down on it. “Liam” Sherlock started, turning to his friend, a genuine smile forming on your brother face. “This my younger sister Y/N” he introduced, signalling towards your awkward and nervous form from have the spot light be put on you.

‘Liam’ gazed up at you, crimson eyes focusing intensely on you. Getting yourself ready from him to say something like: “ I didn’t know the Holmes brothers ha and sister” or something along those lines. But what you got instead was something you would never expect. The blonde haired man grinned fondly at you, strangely making all your worries melt away. “You wrote ‘Twist Of The Heart’ right.” Shock ran through your body at the mention of you old book, something you had wrote about 4 years ago. No publishing company wanted to take you because you were a woman, except one. Sadly the book was a failure and the future books you had in store were thrown away. But now hearing someone mention you not just as Sherlock’s sister but as your own person was a breath of fresh air. “It was an incredible piece of literature about unrequited love. Shame that you stopped writing.” It was odd heading someone talk so highly about you. But here you are be praised.

Fidgeting around with your hands, trying thinking of an appropriate response. But your brain was blank, and you were at a loss for words. You'd never been in this sort of situation before. "A-Ahh..." you stuttered out, feeling you throat tighten. “Thank you Mr Liam”

A chuckle rumbled from the man's chest as he shook his head. “My name is actually William James Moriarty”, he said to me with a smile.

Hearing the familiar name made your heart jump in your chest and you had to take a deep breath before you could speak again. "Moriarty?" You asked him, unable to keep the surprise out of your voice. “You mean!” The man nodded. You were so shocked that it took you several seconds to react but when you did, your face flush in embarrassment. How could you not recognise him! But most importantly, he read your book! “I’m so sorry!”

And that’s how a new friendship was formed. William and you continued to met up at nearby cafes or his house.Two of you had a lot in common and he so easily to talk to. Sherlock was starting to become jealous at how much William and you were hanging out. Your brother would say that you were stealing his friend, which you found quite adorable but don’t tell Sherlock that.

William helped you with gaining your confidence back and even with creating a new book. The story was a second part from your first book. This time the girl finds love with someone she never thought she’d fall for. Ironically though you fell hard for the noble man. It felt as if fate had brought him into your life. He was the perfect man, sweet, caring and oh so handsome. He made you feel so much emotions. You were head over heels in love, but did he love you? You were a nobody compared to your brothers. Just some washed up wannabe author. William was a nobleman, he would never fall for you. Right…?

[himegureisu]

1 | the Woman

Summary: Mrs. Mycroft Holmes. Yes. You. Most people didn't know you existed. In these years, that's about to change.

A/N: This is the new version. This can be read as a gender-neutral person. However, the pairing remains Mycroft Holmes/Female Reader throughout the story. Season 1 scenes are entirely domestic Mycroft Holmes x Reader. This scene begins at home after Season 1 Episode 1: A Study in Pink. I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: There are innuendos at the end of every chapter.

Gaining weight again?

Losing it, in fact.

—————————— 🔎——————————

His stomach was pudgy. It has always been that way since he was a child. Any and every attempt at losing it was an arduous road he refused to take any longer other than the occasional jog on a treadmill at your insistence.

Could he lose it? Yes, however, the effort required to do so was significant in that he would rather accomplish several tasks of import than appease the opinion of others and his vanity.

“Mycroft?”

Your soft inquiring voice breaks through his thoughts. His attention redirected, from the mirror to the sight of you by the threshold from the hall.

“What are you doing in front of the mirror?” you ask, walking over, to stand by his side.

“Sherlock has mocked my weight again,” he sighed, patting the fat on his stomach. “I should be used to it by now, however…”

It was a sore spot from time immemorial. One his brother didn’t hesitate to pick on almost every time they saw each other.

“Are you not bothered by my weight?” he asks, you shake your head: a no, as he faces you, “Truly?”

“Mycroft Holmes, I didn’t care about your weight before we married. I certainly do not care for it much now,” you say as you cup your hands on his cheeks in all seriousness, “I’d rather you eat and overindulge in meals than skip them. It means you’re taking care of yourself. Your job is already stressful and Sherlock being reckless is the literal cherry on top. If partaking in an extra slice of cake can soothe your frayed nerves, then be my guest. However, do save a piece for me, and then we’ll find a way to lose the calories together.“

Your hands trail from his face to his body, noting every curve and contour to memory. He may not be society’s ideal man but you love every part of him. Even those parts that he hates.

“You are incomparable, my dear.” his voice wavered, as he leaned down to rest his forehead on yours. “Thank you,”

“I love you just the way you are, Mycroft,” you whispered, brushing a quick gentle kiss on his lips, “Don’t you ever doubt that,”

To Mycroft, your words were the only ones that truly mattered. Your acceptance and love are a balm to his insecurities and fears. He never thought that he’d ever experience such unconditional love from anyone except his parents. However, it seems that the world has granted him the privilege of being loved by you.

“Would you like to join me in our bedroom, my dear?” he suggested. His eyes twinkled mischievously in the evening light. “I thought of a way to lose those calories,”

“Oh, do tell then,”

“I’d rather show,”

NEXT >>

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Youvebeenlivingfictional Masterlist

Hooooboy, alright. Caving and turning this into a post. I'm keeping the page up as well, so if you prefer that, don’t worry, it’s still there.

If this post is missing something and i can almost guarantee it is, lemme know! Also if a link is broken, lemme know.

As always, any minors interacting with explicit works will be blocked.

Last Updated: July 22, 2023

I do not give consent for any of my work to be copied, posted, or translated on other sites.

What it says on the tin. Archiveofourown: youvebeenlivingfictional

Kinktober 2022  *18+ Only

Fluffcember 2022 Fake Dating Masterlist

Includes: The Triple Frontier Boys, Javier Peña, Nathan Bateman, Percival Graves, Christopher Pike

Men I Always Meant to Write For

Includes: Bruce Wayne, Daniel Le Domas, Don Draper, Don Eppes, Harvey Specter

The Bear

Force of Habit - Carmy Berzatto x Reader  *18+ Only

Get What You Get - Carmy Berzatto x Reader

If You Can’t Take the Heat - Carmy Berzatto x Reader

Captain America

Love Isn’t Always On Time - Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes (On indefinite hiatus)

Strange Bedfellows - Steve Rogers x Reader *18+ Only

Daredevil

Gauze - Frank Castle x Reader

Her Voice - Matt Murdock x Reader *18+ Only

The Dark Knight Trilogy

The Other Half - Bruce Wayne x Reader *18+ Only

Defending Jacob

Clandestine - Andy Barber x Reader *18+ Only

I Could Be Your Sometimes - Andy Barber x Reader *18+ Only

Where You Want My Lipstick - Andy Barber x Reader *18+ Only

Den of Thieves

Bad Idea - Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon x Reader *18+ Only

The Pool - Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon x Reader *18+ Only (The Pool ‘Verse)

Benny and Techie’s Holiday Plans  - Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon x Reader (The Pool ‘Verse)

Benny and Techie Wind Up Skipping Arm Day - Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon x Reader (The Pool ‘Verse)

Benny Teaches Techie How to Shoot - Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon x Reader (The Pool ‘Verse)

How Benny and Techie Spend New Year’s Eve - Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon x Reader (The Pool ‘Verse)

Benny’s First Thoughts - Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon x Reader (The Pool ‘Verse)

Benny and Techie Have It Out - Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon x Reader (The Pool ‘Verse)

Nick Makes Techie Uncomfortable - Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon x Reader The Pool ‘Verse)

Points of Contact - Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon x Reader

You Know That I’ll Be Patient - Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon x Reader -*18+ Only

You Want Me To? - Benny ‘Borracho’ Magalon x Reader - *18+ Only

Don’t Worry Darling

Dark Victory - Frank x Reader *18+ Only

Dune

A Stalwart Gem - Duke Leto Atreides x Reader *18+ Only

Be Changed; Be Undone - Duke Leto Atreides x Reader *18+ Only

The View - Duncan Idaho x Reader x Gurney Halleck *18+ Only

The Warmaster’s Wife - Gurney Halleck x Reader *18+ Only

Enola Holmes

An Absolute Mess - Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Terribly Confounding - Sherlock Holmes x Reader

When We Were Young - Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Ex Machina

A Few Nathan Bateman Thots - Nathan Bateman x Reader *18+ Only

Bateman Begins, A Nathan Bateman Batman AU - Nathan Bateman x Reader

By Definition - Nathan Bateman x Reader

Loosen Up - Nathan Bateman x Reader *18+ Only

Magnetic - Nathan Bateman x Reader *18+ Only

Nathan Bateman Buy Me This Challange - Nathan Bateman x Reader

Rubber Ducky You’re the One - Nathan Bateman x Reader *18+ Only

Soft Nathan Headcanons - Nathan Bateman x Reader

That Algo is Fuckin’ Scuffed - Nathan Bateman x Reader *18+ Only

The Logical Progression - Nathan Bateman x Reader

The Logical Epilogue - Nathan Bateman x Reader

Three Years - Nathan Bateman x Reader *18+ Only

Wired - Nathan Bateman x Reader *18+ Only

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them

A Grave Life - Percival Graves x Reader

Game of Thrones

Being Pregnant with Oberyn Martell’s Child Headcanons

Take Your Time - Oberyn Martell x Reader x Ellaria Sand

The Maiden of Summerwood - Oberyn Martell x Reader x Ellaria Sand

The Gilded Age

Bluff - George Russell x Reader

The Crossing - George Russell x Reader

To Have Loved and Lost - George Russell x Reader

The Gentlemen

Company Man - Raymond Smith x Reader *18+ Only

Indiana Jones

Relative Dating - Indiana Jones x Reader

James Bond

All Over - James Bond x Reader *18+ Only

Enemy at the Gates - James Bond x Reader *18+ Only

Give Me a Buzz - James Bond x Reader *18+ Only

Old Dog - James Bond x Reader *18+ Only

The King’s Man

illicit - Orlando Oxford x Reader *18+ Only

Knives Out

Homestead - Benoit Blanc x Reader

Morning Paper - Benoit Blanc x Reader *18+ Only

Mad Men

Better - Don Draper x Reader *18+ Only

The Starlight Room- Don Draper x Reader

The Mandalorian

Softly - Boba Fett x Reader It’s On the Cards - Boba Fett x Reader

Mayans MC

Good Cop, Bad Cop - Crossover with Den of Thieves. Angel Reyes x Reader x Benny Borracho Magalon *18+ Only

How to Have Fun - Angel Reyes x Reader *18+ Only

Hop On - Angel Reyes x Reader

The Mentalist

His Hands - Marcus Pike x Reader *18+ Only

I’ll Be Home for Christmas - Marcus Pike x Reader

I’ve Seen This One; It’s a Tragedy - Marcus Pike x Reader

Odd Hours//Getting Even - Marcus Pike x Reader

Stress Relief - Marcus Pike x Reader *18+ Only

The Long Con - Marcus Pike x Reader

Wooed - Marcus Pike x Reader

Wound Up - Marcus Pike x Reader *18+ Only

A Most Violent Year

Headcanon: Meeting Abel Morales - Abel Morales x Reader

Intrigues - Abel Morales x Reader

Might As Well Jump - Abel Morales x Reader

Pretty Things - Abel Morales x Reader *18+ Only

Moon Knight

The First Time - Marc Specter x Reader *18+ Only

Narcos

Don’t Get Too Close (For Comfort) - Javier Peña x Reader Explicit *18+ Only

Easy - Horacio Carrillo x Reader x Javier Peña *18+ Only

Empty, As Before - Javier Peña x Reader

Enough - Javier Peña x Reader

Just You and Me - Javier Peña x Reader Explicit *18+ Only

Middlemen - Horacio Carrillo x Reader

Movement - Javier Peña x Reader

Stubble - Horacio Carrillo x Reader

What’s the Use of Wonderin’ - Javier Peña x Reader

Ocean’s 8

Oh Whiskey Please - Lou Miller x Reader (On indefinite hiatus)

Outer Range

Closing Time - Rhett Abbott x Reader

Don’t Make it Weird - Rhett Abbott x Reader  *18+ Only

Waking Up Slow - Rhett Abbott x Reader *18+ Only

Peaky Blinders

Princess - Tommy Shelby x Reader *18+ Only

Power

Itsy-Bitsy//Hunger - Diego Jimenez/Reader *18 Only

Ready or Not

Wicked Game - Daniel Le Domas x Reader

Scenes From a Marriage

Holiday Traditions - Jonathan Levy x Reader

Breathe - Jonathan Levy x Reader

Exhale - Jonathan Levy x Reader

Star Trek: Discovery/ Star Trek: Strange New Worlds

Christopher Pike Headcanons

Chapter and ‘Verse - Christopher Pike x Reader

Grounded - Christopher Pike x Reader

I Caught One Last Sight - Christopher Pike x Reader

I’m Always Curious - Christopher Pike x Reader

I’m Right Here - Christopher Pike x Reader

Intergalactic Prince Consort Christopher Pike Thread - Christopher Pike x Reader

Let’s Get Physical - Christine Chapel x Reader

Lonely - Christopher Pike x Reader x Una Chin-Riley

String Theory - Christopher Pike x Reader

The Bodyguard - Christopher Pike x Reader

The Captain’s Woman - Christopher Pike x Reader (On Indefinite Hiatus)

Star Wars

Effective - Poe Dameron x Reader

Everyone’s Got Their Reasons - Poe Dameron x Reader (On indefinite hiatus)

Heartless - Poe Dameron x Reader

Is That My Shirt? - Poe Dameron x Reader

Neighborly - Poe Dameron x Reader

No Pressure - Poe Dameron x Reader

Stupid, Slutty Collar - Poe Dameron x Reader

The Stars - Poe Dameron x Reader

You Never Know - Poe Dameron x Reader (On indefinite hiatus)

Succession

I Can Take a Beating (Like a Good Pair of Headphones) - Kendall Roy x Reader

Long Shot - Stewy Hosseini x Reader  *18 Only

Suits

More Than Enough - Harvey Specter x Reader

Supernatural

A Little Dream Of Me - Dean Winchester x Reader

Stranger Things

You Spin Me Right Round - Eddie Munson x Reader

Sex Pollen - Eddie Munson x Reader *18 Only

Teen Wolf

Trouble Finds You - Chris Argent x Female OC (On indefinite hiatus)

Top Gun: Maverick

Our Girl - Bradley Rooster Bradshaw x Reader x Jake Seresin *18+ Only

The Periphery - Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader

Princess - Jake Seresin x Reader

Row 27 - Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader

When Are You Gonna Come Down - Bradley 'Rooster’ Bradshaw x Reader *18+ Only

The Worst Best Man - Jake Seresin x Reader

Triple Frontier

The Balance  - Santiago Garcia x Reader x Will Miller *18+ Only

Beached - Santiago Garcia x Reader *18+ Only

Don’t Treat My Love Like a Habit - Santiago Garcia x Reader

Fooled Around and Fell In Love - Santiago Garcia x Reader *18+ Only

Patched Up - Will Miller x Reader *18+ Only

Plans Can Change - Benny Miller x Reader

Sweets - Frankie Morales x Reader

Under Covers - Santiago Garcia x Reader *18+ Only

An Unspoken Rule - William Miller x Reader

Well You’re Not What I Was Looking For - William Miller x Reader

You Shouldn’t - Santiago Garcia x Reader *18+ Only

Benny Likes to Talk

You Got a Ring for Me, Miller?

Benny Miller Headcanons

Drift-Compatible Miller Brothers

Venom

Will You Give Me Shelter - Eddie Brock x Reader x Annie Weying (On indefinite hiatus)

The West Wing

Clean Slate - Josh Lyman x Reader

I Don’t Mind the Company - Josh Lyman x Reader *18+ Only

Nickname - Josh Lyman x Reader

1,001 Reasons Not to Move - Josh Lyman x Reader

Wonder Woman

I Cannot Weave - Antiope x Reader *18+ Only

Steam - Antiope x Reader *18+ Only

[joanquill]

"Surprise!"

okay sherlock x reader he comes back from the 3 years time skip amd realised he and yn have a child. the child looks 50 % like hime and 50 % like yn. is there a chance that it can be headcanons?

Sherlock Holmes

Tag/s: Established Relationship, Mother!Reader Post-Timeskip Warning/s: SPOILERS!... Kind of?

You only found out you were pregnant a few weeks after the funeral.

You thought you were just going through grief, but your doctor confirmed you were with child.

Considering Sherlock was your only lover and with the estimated delivery time, it all lined up to be his.

John and Miss Hudson were there every step of the way.

John made sure you and the baby were in perfect health, and Miss Hudson helped you with everything you needed.

Even Mycroft bought and paid for everything you required. He would even visit you and check in to see if you and his future niece or nephew are okay.

And with Sherlock confirming his survival, you were both ecstatic and nervous to meet him again, unsure how he would react to his child.

Now, three years have passed, and you and your child are living happily in your home.

They looked like the perfect mix of you and Sherlock... despite them having more of their father's intellect and personality.

The Holmes genes are strong in this one.

But they were absolutely perfect in your eyes.

 As you were about to go out and celebrate Valentine's with some chocolate, you found yourself opening your door to Sherlock with your child in your arms.

"Mom? Who's that?" your child asked innocently, looking at Sherlock, whose face was in complete shock, just like yours.

"...Ah..." your child muttered, understanding the situation.

"I always thought my father's supposed death was abnormal..." they muttered, snapping you both out of it.

You called your child's name in a scolding voice, putting them down on the couch.

"Your father?" Sherlock asked your child, making you freeze.

"Yes. The great detective Sherlock Holmes, as Uncle John would write in his books," your child confirmed, making you internally cry.

You took a deep breath as you faced Sherlock, an awry smile on your face.

"Surprise...!"

[thisisawonderfulusername]

sir snuggles henry!sherlock holmes x reader requested by: anon summary: your niece finds the help of sherlock holmes to find her teddy bear. warnings: a child? just fluff lol word count: 1.3k a/n: i'm back baby, and with 2 new obsessions (sherlock and wakanda forever lol). thank you for this request!!! sherlock would be an amazing father and you can't change my mind on that

your niece, iris, was practically the light of your life. not having your own kids to take care of, your brother and his wife were more than happy to leave her with you for short periods of time. 

this summer, he got assigned a month long trip out of london for work, and he wanted to take the opportunity to have a small 'couple's retreat' and they were more than happy to leave iris with you.

it's only been a little more than a week out of the 4 she'll be with you, but it's already proving to be a challenge.

today, was a whole new level of trouble with her.

after you guys had gotten home from the park, you had put her in bed for a nap- but the problem was, she didn't stay there. before you had put her there, she was going on about her stuffed bear- sir snuggles- and how she lost it.

you told her you'd find it after her nap, but clearly that wasn't a good enough answer for her. 

while you read in the living room, she hatched a plan for getting her bear back.

"have you seen sherlock holme's latest case in the papers? my, he's a clever one." you look over the daily newspaper as you speak to your dear friend, a smile on your face. 

"attractive, too.” she responds with a grin. “have you heard of sherlock holmes, sweety?" the lady you were with asked iris, and at the time she shook her head and listened as the two of you went on about this famous detective. 

iris' eyes widen at the memory. "sherlock holmes!" he'd surely be able to find her beloved sir snuggles, you were constantly talking about the cases of his that had been published, expressing how smart he was.

peeking her head out of the room, she saw that you had your back turned, so she ran to the back door where she snuck out into the backyard. 

she'd have to find sherlock holmes and get him on this case.

-

flat two-twenty-one b was quiet as sherlock sat in one of his armchairs, papers from recent cases strewn about as he flipped through the newspaper. 

the day was a boring one, having no new cases to solve and no one to chat with.

he would have gone to the park or the market for a stroll, but he already had everything he would need here and he didn’t see a reason to leave.

so sitting and reading it was.

that was until there was a knock at the door. he looked up at it for a moment, almost wondering if it was a figment of his imagination, but sure enough there was another few knocks after a moment of no reply.

he stood from his chair, tossing the newspaper to the side and going to open the door. when it opened, he saw no one.

but then he heard a small voice.

"mr sherlock holmes?"

he looks down, and surprisingly, there's a little girl gazing up at him. 

his eyebrow raises and he glances up and down the hall for someone who could possibly be her guardian. when he saw no one, he looked back at her. "yes?"

a bright smile spreads across her face at the confirmation. "i’m iris. i lost my teddy bear. can you help me find him?"

"i'm not sure about that," he says wearily, "perhaps we should get you back to your mother."

she shakes her head, "she's not home, mr sherlock." she tells him, "i'm with my aunt y/n. she always says how clever you are." she smiles brightly.

he chuckles softly, rubbing the back of his neck, "really? well, you must be worrying her, so how about you-"

"-it'll only be quick, sir!" she pleads, "sir snuggles needs me."

hearing the name she appointed the bear, he sighs softly. he notices the dirt on the skirt of her dress, "have you been to the park today, miss iris?"

her face lights up at his question, "how did you know?" she questions, amazed.

"you have dirt on your skirt." he grabs his coat, stepping out of his flat. "let's go find this sir snuggles."

-

"why, that looks like it could be your footprint, doesn't it?" he points out in the dirt as he crouched down.

she gasps as she sees it, placing her foot in the print to see if it matches with her shoe. "it is!" she says excitedly.

sherlock can't help the smile on his face, "well, let's follow your steps, then. that should lead us to sir snuggles."

iris nods her head, not giving him a chance to properly stand up before she starts running in the direction the prints came from. he quickly follows.

a minute later, they pass a tree, and something catches his eye. he stops, looking over and seeing a small bear on the ground next to the trunk.

"is this sir snuggles?" he calls out to the girl who was still running along, picking up the stuffed animal and brushing some dirt off of the fabric.

when she turns, he watches as her jaw drops. "it is!" she yells, running back to him. "thank you, mr holmes!" 

"well, i couldn't have done it without your help." he smiles as he hands it back to her. 

there seems to be a light in her eyes, "do you think i could be a detective?" she asks hopefully. 

the question warms his heart, "it looks like you're well on your way. let's get you home shall we?"

as she led him down the sidewalk, they heard a sudden shriek.

"iris!" you grab attention from passing people when you see her, "iris, you get over here right now!"

it's then that you notice the man holding her hand and your eyes widen.

"you! get away from her!"

sherlock is surprised by the fact that a crazed woman has come from seemingly nowhere, yelling at him to get away from the young girl he had befriended- which he does admit, seems pretty suspicious. 

"but aunty y/n, it's sherlock holmes!" she tells you excitedly as you run to her. 

hearing the name, your eyes widen. "what-"

"you're always saying how clever he is, so i asked him to help find my bear!" she holds up the stuffed animal, "and he did!"

it's as if all words in your vocabulary disappeared into thin air, leaving you to stare in shock.

when he realizes you're not going to say anything, sherlock clears his throat. "it's, uh, a pleasure to meet you."

you're broken out of your disbelief and you blink a few times. "yes, same to you- iris, you shouldn't have left and you certainly shouldn't have bothered mr holmes." you scold.

"but aunty, i couldn't find sir snuggles." she pouts. 

"it's no bother, really." sherlock chuckles, "do you happen to be the aunt who, so i've heard, says i'm clever?"

heat begins to rise to your face and you look from him, to iris, and back to him. "well, plenty of folks say that, mr holmes." you clear your throat.

"but you and your friends always say he's very attractive!" iris pops in, causing your breath to catch in your throat for a moment. how much had she been listening to your conversations?

avoiding eye contact with sherlock, you shoot a pointed look at iris. this girl just loves to embarrass you. "i think we should be going now." you take a quick turn on the subject. 

you spare a quick glance to him as you grab your niece's hand, "i'm terribly sorry for the bother." 

"it's really okay-" you turn on your heel and quickly begin to walk away, until his voice raises slightly, "wait, miss!"

you pause, squeezing your eyes shut and biting your lip. you glance down at iris, before looking behind you and seeing him swiftly making his way toward you. "yes?" you ask, slightly nervous as he looks at you.

"i didn't catch your name." 

[frost-queen]

Upon a nightly walk //part 3 (Reader!Bridgerton x Sherlock Holmes)

Requested by: @melsunshine, Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22 @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @imagines-by-her, @vviolynn, @randomstory56

Summary: Awaiting your punishment for sneaking out at night, you hope to post-pone it by avoiding your brothers. Bothered by what to do does Anthony something surprisingly and go visit the man himself who escorted you home before the break of dawn. [ part 1 & part 2 ]

You tiptoed down the stairs towards the kitchen. You had deliberately staid away from the breakfast table, not wanting to see any of your brothers. Last nights encounter still fresh in your mind. Arriving downstairs you took a few turns heading into the kitchen. Luckily it was deserted. On the long table were some fruits in a basket. Bread as well as you plucked one out, biting a piece of. Chewing happily you grabbed an apple, tossing it up to catch it afterwards. Humming a bit you took another bite of the bread.

Looking down at it, you decided to take a few more pieces. Stuffing the rest of the bread in your mouth to grab new ones. While you were at it, you stole a few biscuits as well, storing them in your hand with the apple. Hands packed and full, you looked around for what more to take, slowly turning round. – “God!” – you called out, everything in your hand tossed up the moment you got startled. Anthony was leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

He had been watching you take food from the kitchen without letting himself known. The second you recovered from your startle, you brushed your hands down your skirt, setting your expression on neutral. – “If you are hungry, why weren’t you at breakfast then?” – he asked. You looked deliberately away, chin up. Anthony puffed bothered when you ignored him.

You knelt down to pick up the food you had taken. Anthony untangled his arms nodding his head in disbelief that you were ignoring him. – “You!” – he called out with a firm point at you. You got up, immediately turning your posture away from him. It agitated him more that you were angry at him for last night. – “Why are you angry?” – he shouted. – “I should be angry!” – he added. – “Aren’t you?” – you finally responded bitsy. That made him suck in a breath, holding it captive in his bloated cheeks at the audacity that you had in his presence.

“I am!” – he made clear sounding a bit like a child trying to get his right. – “It is settled then.” – you replied with a fake smile making him gawk at you in shock. You went around the table with the food. – “Leave the food!” – he ordered in a sense to punish you. – “Fine!” – you answered loud dropping it onto the table. – “You spoiled my appetite anyways!” – you shouted just before leaving the kitchen. Anthony inhaled sharp through his nose. – “Take it then!” – he pointed at the food in a passive aggressive way. You reappeared from behind the corner. – “No thanks!” – you said with a smile.

Anthony turned on his heel going the other way. He made it till the corridor before he sighed loud and returned. He hated that he went back into the kitchen. From the table he grabbed an apple with a rough grip to return. Around the corner you were smiling to yourself. Secretly enjoying the sibling bickering. You knew it was never serious. Even just now Anthony had proven to you it wasn’t serious. He would never let you starve, that is why he took the apple to give it to you later.

You avoided the parlor with much thought. No need to have some more bickering with Benedict or Colin. You understood they were protective, but nothing had happened. Sherlock was as ever a gentleman. If you didn’t know his character so well, you wouldn’t have done it. You wouldn’t have escorted him home or took care for him. You certainly wouldn’t have staid and fallen asleep. As you expected you found the apple on your nightstand after having taken the long route through the gardens to be sure you wouldn’t pass by anyone.

With a faint smile you picked up the apple letting it rotate in your grip. Taking the first bite it felt fresh in your mouth. The juice having come from your bite rolling down your chin making you catch it with your hand. Rather wiping your chin clean unladylike. Just wiping it hand back and front whilst chewing. No napkin to pat it gently away. Taking another bite you wandered closer to the window overlooking the gardens. The gardens were empty till you heard murmured voices.

Upon seeing your brothers Colin and Benedict walk out into the garden you hid behind the curtain not wanting them to see you. Peeking a bit around the curtain you saw them laugh and head over to the open space in the gardens by the benches. Both holding their fencings swords. You were so caught up with watching your brothers you hadn’t seen Anthony jog after them in a white shirt. He paused to look up. The moment his eyes met up with yours, you dove down out of sight. Feeling stupid that he had seen you.

Sitting down under the window, you exhaled loud with a hand on your chest. You were sure a punishment would follow after your nightly walk. You just hoped to post-pone it as long as you avoided your brothers. Thinking about it you found it strange none of your sisters or mother had barged into your room demanding answers. Had they not spoken of it to the others? Sliding your hands over your arms, you embraced your knees in pity.

Of course you knew you had made a mistake by going out at night. The reason seemed useless now from what it meant back then. Of course you were grateful for Sherlock’s arrival and your brother’s worry. You were stupid and reckless. You couldn’t blame them… yet you did a bit. Blamed them for yelling at you with the greatest shame in you. You had let them down and it was all on you.

That stupid part of you that wanted to feel adventurous. That stupid girl inside of you who really thought the streets of London would be just as save as during the day. Oh how wrong you were. Lowering your head, you wanted to cry, but you had no more tears left.

Outside were the eldest brothers playing fence. Colin and Benedict dueling against one another. Anthony at the bench lost in his thoughts. Benedict paused looking over at him. – “Breaking your head on Y/n’s punishment?” – he chuckled out making Colin stop as well. – “It isn’t laughable brother.” – Colin commented. He then turned his posture to Anthony. – “You must punish her well brother, so she’ll never think of it again.” – Colin spoke dutiful with his fencing sword under his armpit.

Anthony simply hummed mindlessly. Benedict knew him well enough to understand the meaning of his features. – “Don’t tell me you feel sentiment of her?” – he said placing his fencing sword also under his armpit as he took a step closer. – “Our sister did the unthinkable!” – he outed. – “You think I don’t know that!” – Anthony shouted bitsy nearly jumping out of his skin. Sighing deep he let himself lean back on the bench. – “I just…I…urgh I don’t know.” – he groaned out turning his posture to the side. Colin and Benedict shared a brief look, exhaling afterwards.

“It’s Y/n.” – Benedict said slightly agreeing with Anthony. – “So what will you do then?” – Colin said bothered. – “Let her off the hook cause she waved her pity eyes at you?” – Colin continued. – “No!” – Anthony shouted getting up. – “I…I need to think!” – he threw his hand up in agony. He rushed between Colin and Benedict heading back inside. Benedict grabbed his fencing sword again pointing it at Colin. Colin shook his head not in the mood to go on anymore.

Anthony went to fetch his suit’s jacket, heading out the door then. Head filled with worry and restless feet they carried him on the streets of London. The thoughts inside of him going spiral. Stumping at the biggest questions in his head. Why head out at night? Why Sherlock? Why stay there? He understood it was too dangerous to go home by yourself, but why Sherlock? The thoughts made him groan and shake his head. Folding his hands behind his back, he tried not to think much of it. He rounded a corner met up with the shops. Glancing briefly in the window, he saw a young girl getting measured for a new dress.

Across a man trying on a new hat. He ignored the shops heading forwards. By the end of the street was a floral shop. The most vibrant pink tulips standing outside. The sight of the tulips made him freeze; arms released from behind him. The lady who owned the shop had noticed him and walked up to him. – “Should I pack these lovely tulips sir?” – she asked. Anthony hummed loud as if woken from a dream. – “The tulips sir. I can see you are drawn to them. Perhaps for a lovely lady?” – she guessed with a sweet smile.

Anthony took a step back, shaking his head. The lady came closer to him. – “I am sure the lady you give this will be very happy.” – she said easing him into buying them. – “You think so?” – Anthony said almost hopeful. The lady nodded eager to take the flowers for him. – “Shall I?” – she asked hands hovering over the tulips. Anthony agreed, nodding.

Not long after he was holding a bouquet of tulips. He was about to return home till he noticed how not so far from a certain street he was. Lead by curiosity he went that way. Bakerstreet to be exact. Tulips in hand he crossed the street. Keeping an eye out for a passing carriage, he made his way across. Taking a few turns he was in Bakerstreet, just looking for 221B. The moment he found it; he exhaled deep. Knocking loud on the door. He took an anxious step back. Suddenly aware of the flowers he was holding he felt foolish. The door opened making him stiffen his posture.

“Anthony?” – Sherlock called out confused. – “May I?” – he asked as Sherlock smiled upon seeing the flowers in his hand. Sherlock stepped aside for Anthony to enter. Once entered he looked curious outside. A bit anxious that not more brothers of yours were at his doorstep. Anthony stood a bit lost in his house. Staring up the walls. – “Lovely flowers.” – Sherlock stated with a smirk as if Anthony had bought them for him.

“For my sister.” – Anthony said clearing his throat as he moved the flowers behind his back. – “Please.” – Sherlock gestured for him to sit. Anthony held the flowers on his lap after sitting down. – “To what do I owe the pleasure.” – he spoke innocently. – “Don’t patronize me. I know it was you who brought my sister home.” – Anthony replied loud making Sherlock swallow nervously.

“How…how is she?” – Sherlock questioned as Anthony gave him a cold glare, silencing him immediately. – “I am going to be straight with you.” – Anthony started as Sherlock gestured for him to do so. – “Why did my sister come to your house? Did… did you meet up in secret? Have you been improper?” – he nearly shrieked out in a panic. Sherlock shaking his head with frantic waves of his hands. – “No! I am a gentleman!” – he responded quickly.

“Then why? Why take advantage of my sister’s good nature?” – Anthony wanted to know. Sherlock took a deep breath. – “Truth is… your sister stumbled upon me in an improper manner.” – he explained. Anthony’s eyes sharpened with hatred making Sherlock wave his hands in denial again. – “Not like that.” – Meaning not that improper behavior of men and women. – “I was drunk…” – he clarified. – “Tossed out of the bar as I like to say not my finest moment.” – he added holding his hands up.

“Your sister stumbled upon me being tossed out. She offered to escort me home. Her good nature took care of me while I was in imposition of doing so.  I assure you nothing happened. She escorted me home and made sure I would be hydrated enough. She must have fallen asleep after I did.” – he ended. Anthony took a deep breath leaning back in the chair. – “I would never do anything that would harm her good nature.” – he added after a bit of silence.

Anthony pressed his knuckles underneath his chin thoughtful. – “If you wish to be angry at someone, direct it to me. I was foolish enough to get drunk in her presence.” – Sherlock offered. Anthony took a deep breath rubbing his hands down his thighs. – “My sister’s been in the wrong too by going out at night.” – he simply said. Sherlock couldn’t comment on that as he was right. – “I…I’ll have to give her a consequence for leaving the house.” – Anthony outed.

“But…but I am glad my sister stumbled upon you.” – he continued looking down at the tulips. – “If anything would’ve happened…” – Anthony’s words faded out. – “I know…” – Sherlock answered knowing he would blame himself forever. Blame himself for not being able to protect you. He had been losing his mind over what if he hadn’t stumbled upon you.

What would’ve happened then? He didn’t want to think about it. Anthony got up making Sherlock get up as well. Together they walked back to the door. Anthony left finally having a bit of clearance now. Sherlock shut the door slightly confused of the sudden encounter. Never in a million years had he thought Anthony Bridgerton would be at his doorstep with flowers.

Anthony hastened to home. Stormed into the house, rushing up the stairs to your room. You were startled by loud banging on your door. It ushered you to open the door in a haste. Greeted by tulips you blinked confused. Anthony held them out to you. – “Let us not fight anymore.” – he said apologizing in almost a forced way. You accepted the tulips, staring down at them.

“I’m still shocked by what you did Y/n, but I don’t want us to ignore each other and fight.” – he said looking with pity at you. You smiled softly. – “I hated fighting with you too.” – you replied. Anthony smiled relieved as he leaned in for a hug. You hugged him back with much love. You turned round to set the tulips in a vase.

“Thank you.” – you whispered to them before returning to your brother with open arms. Still a riddle to you what made him change attitude, but you rather had it this way. You were honest before. You hated fighting with him. Then your mind went to Sherlock, hoping you could have that tea with him one day.

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