Sherlock *holding Molly’s hands*: I vow to love and cherish you until my last day and fulfill your fantasy of having sex on a table at Bart’s after hours, and to protect you by choking anyone who lays a finger on you with a scarf until they die.
Molly *holding Sherlock’s hands*: And I vow to give away all my jumpers, always buy the milk, and provide you with more stolen body parts than you could ever want.
Requested by anons: –Can I request a fic with sherlock and the reader where he lets the
reader take control in the bedroom and he’s kinda nervous but she’s totally up
for it and he ends up really liking it??
–Sherlock x Reader where the reader and Sherlock play wrestle? (It can end in
smut or something idk just do whatever comes to your mind lol)
–Some Sherlock smutt/fluff where the reader rides Sherlock and is really
nervous but he makes her feel better?
–I don’t know if you mind, but can you please write a Sherlock x Dom!reader
smut? I always see dominant Sherlock and I would like to see dominant reader
Pairing: Sherlock x Reader
Word count: 2.242
Warnings: Smut - femdom, dirty talk, slapping, hair pulling, light bondage, unprotected, submissive Sherlock -, bit of fluff at the beginning.
A/N: I am not proud of my browser’s seach history now…
Sherlock was on his seat, reading a
newspaper and ignoring (Y/N). They had just finished a case, and so they were
resting until Mycroft crossed the door with brand new information that would,
invariably, lead the to another case – Sherlock deduced that it would happen
three days after – and so the two detectives decided to rest.
(Y/N) expected to have Sherlock’s
full attention during his break; however, Sherlock remained to be himself
She wanted to spend quality time with
her boyfriend and he… “Antwerp…” He was solving the newspaper’s crossword. She
rolled her eyes and groaned slightly, catching Sherlock’s attention. “Don’t you
think it’s Thibodaux?”
“I don’t know, Sher.” She sighed.
Sherlock understood exactly what she wanted from him. He sighed heavily as
well, putting the newspaper away and mentally preparing himself to play the
“Come here.” He commanded. (Y/N)’s
eyes instantly lightened, knowing that she would get some attention, and so she
obeyed, sitting on his lap right away. “Would you… Want to do those strange
things regular couples do?”
(Y/N) giggled. “I’m not trying to
force you to be someone you are not.” She reminded him and Sherlock nodded,
acting like he didn’t care when, in fact, he enjoyed playing the nice
It was quite late when Sherlock and John got home. You were sitting in Sherlock’s chair, reading a book from your phone when you saw their frames at the corner of your eye. Looking at them, you squealed internally, thinking that they would make a cute couple.
“Hi, guys.” You smiled up at them and only then did they seem to notice you were in the room.
Sherlock looked at you with a blank expression while John’s face lit up, clearly amused as he pressed his lips together, suppressing a smile. “You’re here!” He comically announced. “Would you look at that, Sherlock. Y/N’s here.” He gave Sherlock a pat in the shoulder.
John was definitely acting weird… but why?
“You know what, it’s getting a bit late. I should probably go.” He looked at his watch as he started walking backwards but Sherlock grabbed John’s sleeve.
“John…” His whisper was threateningly low and your heart skipped a beat. Is Sherlock going to confess to John?! Are they going to kiss?! You readied your phone to take a picture.
But they were just looking at each other. Almost like they were having a silent conversation. You furrowed your brows, tilting your head a little. Now they were both acting weird.
The sound of shuffling caught your attention again and you saw John was able to free himself from Sherlock’s grip. Seconds after, he was pushing on Sherlock to enter the flat.
You watched as Sherlock walked towards your general direction, clearing his throat. “Hello.” He gave a tight smile and you returned it before you realized you were sitting on his chair.
“Oh, right! I forgot this is your chair.” You scrambled to get up but he immediately stopped you.
“Oh, no. Please don’t get up. I can sit here.” He sat on John’s chair before he spoke to you again. “You can sit wherever you like.”
“Can I sit on your lap, then?” Your question made Sherlock shoot his eyes up to you.
“…what?” Sherlock asked, his eyes dilating as he swallowed a lump in his throat, suddenly feeling very very thirsty.
“I’m kidding!” You laughed and he awkwardly laughed with you.
“Of course you are.” He sounded much less amused than he thought he would. Pathetic, he thought himself.
You noticed the blush on his cheeks. And you had to fight back a squeal. He’s blushing because he’s sitting on John’s chair!
A few silent moments passed before you asked him.
“Sherlock?” He looked at you then.
“Do you like sitting on John’s chair?”
Sherlock frowned at your question, confused. “Not particularly…”
Strange. Why was he blushing then? You asked again, gesturing him to come closer.
You leaned in as the same time until your faces were a foot apart. “Well then, do you, um, like John…?” Your eyes were expectant.
“Of course, I do.” Sherlock replied and you grinned widely before he added “He’s my bestfriend.”
“No, no, no, no.” You shook your head. “Not ‘like’ like that. Like, ‘like’ like.” You emphasized the second word and Sherlock’s brows shot up, figuring out what you were thinking.
You think he fancies John.
“I’m not sure.” He replied, trying to stop the grin from escaping him. He was playing with you now. “What is it like to ‘like’ someone?”
“Well… You know, the usual.” You answered. “You get nervous when you’re around them but when they’re gone, you can’t wait to see them again.” You said and Sherlock nodded, prompting you to continue. “Your heart flutters a when they pay you even the slightest bit attention and sometimes you even imagine them doing dirty things…” You stopped yourself when you realized that you got carried away. You peeked at Sherlock only to see him staring through your eyes. “Anyway,” you pulled back a little, sitting straight. “That’s what it’s like.”
“Well,” Sherlock drew in a deep breath. “If that’s what it’s like to 'like’ someone then I don’t like John Watson.” He said, motioning his finger for you to lean in towards him. And he said with his ridiculously low and sexy voice. “I do, however, like you.”
What…? You blinked a few times, not entirely sure that you heard him right. You were in the process of constructing a coherent sentence when you felt warm hands over yours and you found yourself listening to his sinfully audible breathing.
“Everything you said was spot on.” He was so close now. You could feel his breath on your neck. His hands travelled from your hands to your arms giving them a firm squeeze and you gasped. “Everything but one.”
“What do you mean?” Your voice came out breathier than you’d like. You lean forward more, desperate for his touch.
“I don’t imagine you doing dirty things. Rather, I imagine doing dirty things to you…” He whispered, his lips ghosting on your ear and before you knew it you were kneeling on the floor, the impact creating a muffled thud.
“What kind of dirty things?” You dared to ask.
Slowly, he stood up, eyes never leaving yours and you wondered when his icy blue green eyes turned dangerously dark. Your breathing became labored as you felt sparks all over your body at the sight of him looming over you, although not as much as Sherlock reveled at the sight of you kneeling in front of him.
Requested by anon: could you do a fluffy reader x sherlock and sherlock is really fluffy and needy and dirty in front of john/mycroft? & anon: hey hey could you do a one shot where Sherlock and reader are getting jiggy ;) and her boss Mycroft walks in and gets really embarrassed
Pairing: Sherlock x reader
Word count: 1.079
Warnings: Touchy/Handsy Sherlock, Mentions of drugs, Public Display of Affection, Embarrassing things.
A/N: What does “getting jiggy” mean? I think I got it right but I ask just for the sake of learning new words. (Yes, this week is the week of using slang Becca doesn’t understand)
Office work, the worse kind of work. The sound of the other employees typing, and the many colours of the computer screen she was forced to work in, plus the awful smell of chlorine on the floor was enough to make her dizzy.
Yes, she had her own office, and it was supposed to be private, but the walls were ultra-thin, as a way to keep control of employees, so she could hear everything from the outside.
Everything, she could hear everything, even the silence that built in the office when a strange set of footsteps walked down the hallway to her office. She recognised them instantly and tried to brainwash herself to keep a straight face the whole time and act professionally.
As soon as he entered, that idea went down the toilet.
His high cheekbones and cheeky smile contrasted with the long, black coat he was wearing. His blue eyes matched the blue scarf tied around his neck, and a few strands of curly hair fell over his pale face.
“Sherlock.” She sighed lovingly.
“Hello, my darling.” He granted her a big smile and walked around her desk to press a kiss on her lips. “You look so high functional sitting on this chair, dressed like that…” He whispered above her lips, but before he continued another person cleared his throat.
It was John Watson, standing there with the usual “I’m sick of this rubbish” look on his face.
It was in his eyes. Yes, it was surely in his eyes. No one could ever know what goes on in Sherlock’s head but everything he feels is almost always transparent in his eyes. The way they looked unbelievably vacant when he first saw her. The way they seemed like bright blue orbs when he was texting her on his phone. The way they dilated to almost black when she kissed him hungrily. And the way that they mimicked the calm blue of the ocean when he watched her sleep peacefully beside him.
His eyes, they spoke volumes. And it proved to be a good thing because soon came the time when he barely talked, rarely slept, and seldom ate. It has been months since she had gone missing and the investigation took a huge toll on him. He looked like a walking corpse but his eyes, they were the fartherst from death than they have ever been. They held a wicked sense of purpose.
But then in came a parcel, beautifully wrapped in crimson red. She was home. At least a part of her was. Sherlock always said that he knew her inside and out.
Apparently, he didn’t.
“The test was match for Y/N, Sherlock.” John tried his best, but he couldn’t hold back the tears that escaped his eyes. “It’s her heart.” His words were labored as he kept his composure.
The silence that followed the revelation was completely unexpected. John expected him to storm down the lab and violently force them to redo all the tests but instead he laughs incredulously. And John started to doubt the other’s sanity.
“Of course it is…” whispered Sherlock, willing his tears away to no avail. “He never lies.” He produced a dedication card, handing it to John:
“I happen to know it’s the one thing she promised you. Do I have your attention now?” Jim Moriarty x
Requested by anon: - Can you make a fic where the reader and Sherlock argue so the reader leaves Baker Street for a while. While she’s gone Sherlock is having flashbacks of her and their time together. He puts his emotions into composing a song for her on his violin to play it when she returns. With just a lot of fluff please!! & anon: Could you do something where you call Sherlock a freak in the heat of an argument and he’s really hurt by it :( because you’re the only one who never called him that (John also, but for dramatic purposes yanno)
Pairing: Sherlock x reader.
Word count: 1.776
Warnings: Sad Sherlock, Sad (Y/N).
A/N: I have never written the words “I love you” so many times in one fanfic before this… Also, I’m soooo tired right now that there are probably loads of mistakes. Sorry about that.
How foolish had he been by acting
like that, by talking to her like that. She had been the only person ever not
to call him like that, the only person in the world to understand him and now
that was over.
She had called him a freak, and she
had done so because he had called her a lot of things he wouldn’t dare to
repeat out loud ever again. It was in the heat of an argument, a very silly
argument – but Sherlock always took such things seriously.
It was a dumb argument. Sherlock didn’t
even remember why it started, but he knew that it escalated slowly until it
exploded and she left. She had stomped out the room furiously, shutting the
door and running down the rainy street without caring to grab an umbrella
Word count: 438 Warnings: None Pairing: Gender neutral A/N: Hi guys! I’m not really a writer, but I love reader inserts so I tried! HAHA i probably suck at this bye mwa ((if this gets enough notes, i could make a part two whoop))
Living with Sherlock Holmes had its perks. You really just needed a new flat several months ago, but look at you now: solving crimes with a famous detective. He really did underestimate you at first, though. He asked you to be an assistant for fuck’s sake, but you damn well knew your master’s degree in Psychology wasn’t going to let you settle for assisting. You showed him that you were just as observant as he was by solving a case on your own—of course he didn’t want to take the case because he deemed it boring, but you decided to take it for him. That was when he started calling you his colleague.
Most days without a case were exactly like this: the both of you in the living room, with him in his mind palace and you reading.
“Stop that.” Sherlock hissed from across you.
“Stop what?” You tilted your head to the side. All you did was sit comfortably on what used to be John’s chair.
“Pondering. Your face, i-it’s distracting.” He closed his eyes and shook his head as he waved a hand around.
“My face?” You giggled. “How’s it distracting?”
Sherlock looked at you, slightly frozen. He may have misspoken. You prop your chin on your elbow. “Do you think I’m pretty?” You batted your eyelashes jokingly.
He rolled his eyes. “You know I have a completely different concept of beauty from you.”
“Okay, well why do you find my face distracting?” You pried as you sat up straight.
“Because…” Sherlock hesitated, calculating his words. “Every time I enter my mind palace, you’re there filling my thoughts and it’s not a distraction. It helps. Then I open my eyes and it doesn’t help at all. I see you and I get lost. You always look significantly better than your image in my head and I can’t understand why.”
You felt your cheeks heat up and your palms get sweaty. Now you were the one slightly frozen. Sherlock was never this open and sincere, and you wanted more of that. You were already so drawn to him before, now you were just wrapped around his finger.
“Say something.” He mumbled, looking away. He was obviously embarrassed by his lack of self-control.
“Sorry, I—Sherlock?” You spoke softly. He looked up expectantly. “Would you like to take me out on a date?” You bit your lip.
Sherlock breathed a smile. “Yes, I would.”
You chuckled and stood. “Let’s go then.”
Colleague. It was good while it lasted. Not so long after, he started calling you his partner. Oh yes, in that way.