mischievous sherlock

The Other Woman - Request

Requested by anon:  Hi i just read your latest Sherlock x reader and loved it ! Please could I request One similar where reader meets Irene when she talking to Sherlock on his chair but the reader sees how far she can push Irene by doing things with Sherlock in front of her !!
& @fourtyninekirbygamzeegirl:  I was wondering if you could do a Sherlock fic where he and the reader are close, but Irene Adler comes back around, ticking the reader off, but they get into a competition until reader ends up in Sherlock’s bed, both pissed to the core. Well, it ends in angry smut, but they need it more than anything. 
& anon: May you do another one where Irene turns up again and Sherlock picks the reader! 

Pairing: Sherlock x reader.

Word count: 1,828

Warnings: Smut - unprotected, angry - and Irene being an asshole.

A/N: This took too many surprising turns. Also, I used my favourite quote from Romeo and Juliet because it was fair and necessary.

Enjoy!

* <— If you don’t want the smut, reall until here. ;)

Sherlock was sitting on his usual seat, while (Y/N) occupied Watson’s couch. A heated debate was being held by the two, it was something about a pumpkin patch and another victim dressed in pink. They seemed to be absolutely focused on the topic, acting angry at the other’s suggestions as part of their game – yes, game – in order to keep the appearance of being focused on the victim rather than finding yet another excuse to spend time together.

“Maybe the dress was blue.” (Y/N) snapped, lifting her eyebrow.

“That doesn’t make any sense!” Sherlock exclaimed, but his fake anger was soon vanished by a smirk and a chuckle.

They’re happiness lasted two seconds more, because afterwards the typical soft moan that identified Irene’s text messages invaded the air. Sherlock and (Y/N) stared at his phone in silence. Sherlock didn’t know if he should check it, considering the kind of relationship he was hoping to achieve with (Y/N).

“Aren’t you going to read it, Sherlock?” A third voice spoke from the door. Irene was there, wearing a tiny black dress that accentuated her subtle yet classy curves.

“Irene.” Sherlock whispered.

Keep reading

The Ride Home

“I admit. I am a bloody idiot.” 

John Watson finally breaks the silence with a non-sequitur and a suppressed laugh. Despite being tired to the bone, both men found themselves awake and lost in thought for most of the ride.

“I see but do not observe.” He finds his voice again and wraps the shock blanket tightly around him. 

Sherlock must be too tired to not take the bait. He looks back out into the bleakness of the country road.

“All these years, Sherlock. How could I have not known this? The signs were there.” John lets out a huff and shakes his head, as if finally coming to terms with how dense he’d been. “Irene Adler must have been a welcome distraction, the perfect foil to what you’ve been hiding, even to yourself.” A pause. He looks straight at his friend. “But maybe you did know?”

Keep reading

Detective And Part-Time Matchmaker

Sherlock One Shot

Characters: [GENDER NEUTRAL] Reader x John Watson + Mrs. Hudson & Sherlock Holmes

Warnings: none I think

Request: “heyy i have a request if you’re interested :)) i was thinking Sherlock x reader. something like You’re a friend of johns in town for a few days and you go over to the flat and when johns Sherlock deduces that you’re attracted to john and continues to drop subtle hints around john and you get really embarrassed but it turns out john likes you back??” - anonymous

Word Count: 1,306

A/N: hope i got this right !!

Keep reading

Experiment #6 - Request

Requested by the sinners and anon: I have a suggestion for the next experiment- sherlock x reader. Its where sherlock points out that he’s not just using the reader’s body… And their relationship gets a label. (If this isnt where you want the story to go, i totally understand tho) <3
& anon: Experiment idea: they use various items from around the flat as sex toys (yknow, like carrots and cucumbers, wooden spoons, things like that) 

Pairing: Sherlock x reader

Word count: 2.068

Warnings: Smut - spanking, ice play (Coldplay xD), food play, teasing, soft smut.

A/N: Thank you to the anon who mentioned this series ending, you did this. I’m not sure if you would consider this an ending but uh… Yeah, it’s up to you guys.

Enjoy!

Originally posted by sherlockedimagines

“Why do people have the need to experiment?” She repeated, “That is what Lestrade asked after his phone call with Donovan… There is only one way to find out.”

“We’re not using cherries,” Sherlock stated.

“We don’t have cherries.” She winked and Sherlock grinned mischievously as he took the spoon off her hands.

“Turn around.”

Keep reading

Bittersweet goodbyes (Sherlock Holmes X Reader)

______________________________________________________________

Warnings: Motherly death and abandonment mentions

Fandom: Sherlock

notes: fun fact ms. Hudson actually DOES have a sister


(y/n) Hudson was a very clever girl, but she also happened to be very stupid, at least she was very stupid when it came to the handsome consulting detective living in the downstairs flat of the building her great aunt owned.

when she was young her mother had sent her to live with her  great aunt in London.

 Now (Y/N) inhabited 221 C baker street and was all grown up. But being all grown up didn’t stop her from making stupid childish mistakes, like falling in love with a condescending curly haired genius named Sherlock Holmes.

________________________________________________________________

(y/n) was flipping through a book John Watson had lent her in the early morning when Sherlock came crashing through her front door.
“(y/n) excellent! you’re already awake.” you ran a hand through your hair and stood to face him, stupidly forgetting that you still happened to be in your rather embarrassing cat pajamas your aunt had gotten for you last Christmas.


Sherlock opened his mouth to speak but stopped when he noticed your pajamas, the corners of his mouth quirked up slightly and his blue eyes glittered in amusement. that was when you also noticed your clothing and heat rose to your cheeks.

you were suddenly very annoyed at him for bursting in the first place and then smirking at your pajamas that you were wearing in your apartment where you lived alone. but at the same time his smirk and sparkling eyes were making your heart beat so fast you were sure he could hear it. 


you wanted to strangle him but decided on glaring instead.
“what do you want Sherlock?”

he considered you for a second and then spoke impatiently like he was talking to a child. “there’s a new case and john is away for the weekend with his latest girlfriend" 

You closed your eyes and pinched the bridge of your nose. "I know johns away he left me instructions to stop you from blowing up your flat or setting it on fire”

Sherlock nodded, “yes, I know you know. what I mean is john is away and I need a Watson replacement and you happen to be the least annoying normal person I know.”

You rolled your eyes, “Gee, thanks Sherlock that’s–” you were cut off mid sentence by your phone ringing. you grabbed your phone from the table where it sat and checked the caller I.D. it wasn’t a number you recognized but your curiosity got the better of you so you picked up anyways. you heard Sherlock huff impatiently but shushed him.

“hello?”

“hello. is this (y/n) Hudson?”

“uhm yeah this is she.”

“hi, I’m calling from Churchill county hospital in Nevada your listed as the emergency contact for one Ms. Dianne Hudson. you’re her daughter correct?”

you sucked in a breathe and sank down into the nearest chair.

“yeah I am…I’m her daughter, is there…is….is she okay?”

The woman sighed, “no…she isn’t…your mother passed away this morning”

You sucked in a sharp breath and tears blurred your vision you felt sick. You hadn’t spoken to your mother in three years. Your voice shook as you ended the call. “t-thank you for c-calling me. Ill be there tomorrow evening” the phone beeped as you hit the end button and you heard a soft thump as it fell from your hands and hit the floor.

Sherlock stood there silently intently watching your every move concern lacing his gaze. your eyes flitted up to meet his.

“my mother is dead.”

his face was unreadable but he still crossed the room and pulled you into a stiff hug you were so shocked it almost stopped your tears from spilling but not quite.

the two of you stood there for a long time his arms wrapped around you, your whole body shaking with grief. He was still and almost robotic the entire time and when your sobs faded into hiccups you finally realized Sherlock was actually hugging you and it was the most comforting thing in the world. you pulled away from him and looked down in embarrassment.

“I’m so sorry Sherlock I didn’t mean to lose it like that I…”

“its alright.” and with his short response he turned on his heel and left.
________________________________________________________________


that night you finished packing your things, Ms. Hudson promised to ship the rest when you were settled. you had spent the afternoon on the phone and your mother had left every piece of her life up in the air, and so here you were packing to spend a year away from home, from your friends, from your aunt who had raised you…and the man you loved.

just to spend it putting the affairs in order of a woman who had basically abandoned you.

with a stray tear rolling down your cheek you closed your suitcase and went upstairs to say goodbye to everyone.

first you said goodbye to ms. Hudson seeing how she was your blood relative and raised you. she fussed over you the whole time and promised to call whenever she could.

then you walked into 221B for most likely the last time for awhile. John had come home early when he got word and hugged you as soon as you walked in, 

“hey (y/n) I’m really sorry about your mother. you smiled sadly "yeah…I am too” you stepped back and let the smile drop. he patted your arm comfortingly “I’m really going to miss you, you know. and even though he’ll never admit it I know Sherlock will too” you smiled again, teasingly this time “aw John I’m only gone for a year you can manage.” he grinned back at you, “I suppose I can as long as Sherlock doesn’t succeed in burning down the flat.”

you hugged john once more and he left to give you some space to say your last goodbye.

so you went to find Sherlock who was sitting on the couch thinking.

“I uh…I guess I’m leaving soon…I’m really going to miss you Sherlock.” your (e/c) eyes started to well up with tears. “this year is going to be unbearable without my favorite consulting detective you know? I mean, who else can shut up the Andersons of the world or bring adventure into my life?…Christ, I’m not usually sappy like this…and you know that I guess I’m only doing this because I’m pretty sure you’re not listening. but what the hell, don’t forget about me while I’m away Sherlock.”

As you turned to leave a hand caught your wrist,

“don’t go.”

you couldn’t believe it. why would he care if you left…you were friends, or at least you thought you were but usually he didn’t care.

you turned to face him and he was standing now, his hand still around your wrist his eyes pleading you to stay.


“Sherlock…”

“Don’t. go.” he said it a little more forcefully now but still softly like he knew it was a hopeless plea.

“Sherlock, I have to go.”

“I love you (y/n)”

your eyes widened in shock, “you- I- what?” he smirked at your shocked expression and took a step closer to you.

“I love you”

“I–”

he cut you off “I know” and with those two words the world stopped, it was just the two of you, you didn’t have to go, and he didn’t have to stay.
he leaned down and captured your lips in a salty kiss, tears still lingering on your lips. it only lasted a minute but it felt like an eternity, the kiss was soft and desperate his hands were on your waist and your arms were around his neck, neither of you wanting to return to the real world, where this moment was just that…a moment.

you were the one to break the kiss, he tried to kiss you again but you stopped him, he looked so sad it broke your heart.

You stepped out of Sherlock arms, and smiled sadly. “if you kiss me again I’ll never leave.”

His lips quirked up at the corners for only a second, and your vision was blurry with tears that threatened to spill.

You watched his every move trying to commit it to memory, trying to remember the way his eyes sparkled when he got a really interesting case, trying to remember the way he was so focused on his experiments, the way he and john argued like a married couple, the way he grinned when he solved a difficult puzzle, And finally the way he kissed you. because soon thats all you would have for an entire year…memories.

you blinked back tears, and spoke softly. “goodbye sherlock.”

he reached up and took off his scarf, “it gets cold in Nevada” then he draped it around your shoulders and walked you to the door.
________________________________________________________________

























































Bonus:
3 months later**

You pulled Sherlocks scarf tighter around yourself and rubbed your hands together trying to stay warm in the cold desert night. 

you rounded the corner and arrived at the crappy apartment complex you lived in. you fumbled with your keys cursing yourself for not wearing warmer clothing, when your heart almost stopped dead.

someone was inside…you could hear them walking around with each muffled footfall your panic grew. You gripped the can of mace you had in your purse and unlocked the door.

inside the lights were on there was soft music playing and a familiar face was sitting in your favorite chair, you dropped everything (including the mace) and ran over to him, he was smiling, a real, genuine smile, which was so rare coming from him and it took your breath away.
he stood and wrapped you in a tight embrace.

“I couldn’t wait anymore I called in some favors, its time to come home.”

You didn’t question it though you suspected mycroft had a hand in these ‘favors’.

You grinned up at Sherlock mischievously, “I love you too.”

Sherlock surges ahead of John, seemingly unaware of what might be appropriate timing. Nobody could blame him, he hadn’t really sat around making out with anybody since college. John thinks it’s cute, but was going to have to do something before Sherlock sprained a muscle in his face.

“Mmm, hey” he said, pulling away gently, though staying encircled in Sherlock’s arms around his neck

“What’s wrong?” Sherlock looks flustered and sounds like he needs to catch his breath.

“Nothing, nothing” John kisses Sherlock’s lips again, softly “we should just,” he tilts his head and kisses him again “take it slowly, that’s all.”

Sherlock drops his arms to John’s chest and lets himself be kissed, asking between each one “But wouldn’t we want to. Get as many kisses into. The amount of time available?”

John can’t help but laugh quietly, his head wobbles, their big noses bounce against each other “It’s nice to draw things out sometimes. Good things.”

“You don’t like going fast then?”

“Well,” John reaches his arms behind Sherlock, drawing him up, torso to torso and plants a deep kiss on him “it’s all about finding the balance. Our balance.”

“We’re going to have to coordinate.” Sherlock smiles. John wonders why this sounds familiar until he remembers-

“Do you remember everything I’ve ever said to you?”

Sherlock smiles mischievously and looks into his eyes “I might.”

John smiles back, but it soon fades. He can hear the echoes of his own voice. Fuck off. You Machine. Show off. He looked at this man, this soft man that fits between his arms, this human being. John’s choked up.

“John?” there’s concern rising in Sherlock’s voice

“Just, don’t forget this one-” he kisses Sherlock again, deeper this time “I love you.” They had the rest of their lives to make up for their rocky start. It was going to be okay.

The Five Minutes

Wednesday 15.45 hrs.- Little London

Molly walked down the busy street one afternoon and found a little girl with pretty blonde hair, sitting alone on the footpath in front of a bookstore.

Molly: Sweetheart, are you lost? Where are your parents?

The little girl began sniffling, nodded repeatedly and thew herself into Molly’s arms. The pathologist patted her back, soothing her gently. She was about to begin her search for the parents when she heard the familiar voices;

John: You have an IQ level of what?! 180 or something?! How could you possibly lose her?!!!

Sherlock: Actually mine is 225, (smugly) higher than the too famous Einstein himself (Saw John’s deadly glare) and that’s not the point. Well…I last saw her here….(smiled broadly upon seeing the girl) Ah…see?! I told you Sherlly is the smart one; she won’t wander off far.

Sherlly: Uncle Lock!!

The four-year-old suddenly brightened up and ran into her godfather’s arms. Molly took a good look at the girl’s uncle and daddy. It had been years since she last saw John and Sherlock arguing like this. The pathologist swiftly turned to walk away; she had tried her very best to avoid meeting Sherlock ever again.

After the unsuccessful attempts to extract his daughter from Sherlock’s embrace, John gave up. Despite the fact that he was Sherlly’s biological father, his genius best mate had always been her most favorite person on this planet.

John: Molly?? Is that you? Molly Hooper?

Sherlock: (Frowned) Molly….?

Sherlly: The kind lady helped me, Daddy, Uncle Lock.

Sherlock: (Kissed her temple) Very well, we should go say thank you then.

After their brief awkward conversation, Molly hurriedly mumbled her goodbye. She called a cab and about to get in when Sherlly ran to her with a piece of paper in her hand. It was a message, written with the familiar hand writing of the one and only consulting detective.

“Will you have dinner with me? This Saturday at eight, The Landmark Hotel. Please tell Sherlly your answer; she will get a quid if it is a yes…”

Sherlly: Please say yes, Auntie Molly….

Molly: Auntie?

Sherlly: Yes, you will soon be my Auntie Molly if you and Uncle Lock are back together. He said you were his girlfriend and he really really really really wants to win you back. Please….say yes….please please please.

**********
Saturday 22.00 hrs.-The Landmark Hotel

Molly, in her most lovely white dress, silently cursing herself for saying yes and now crying for him once again. She was put as the last priority in the famous Sherlock Holmes’s list and was stood up on their dates like she had been many times in the past.

A cab parked in front of her, Molly quickly wiped off her tears and was about to get in as Sherlock came out from it.

Sherlock: Molly…wait!

Sherlock was in the hospital gown with his coat off his shoulders. He braced himself with one hand on the cab door for support. Seeing the traces of tears in her beautiful eyes, he stepped closer and wiped them off lovingly.

Sherlock: After all these years…the first thing I did to you was making you cry again, (to himself) Idiot!

The consulting detective breathed heavily and his knees buckled. Molly quickly grabbed hold of his waist, giving him her support.

Molly: Oh God! Sherlock, what happened?!!

Sherlock: Internal bleeding from the gun shot through the chest (rolled his eyes) ‘again’.

Molly: What?!! Hold on, I will call the ambulance.

Sherlock: No need…I called… (Groaned) Five minutes, I have five minutes to ask for your forgiveness and tell you how much I need you in my life.

Molly: (Took his pulse) I don’t think this is a good time, Sherlock.

Sherlock: Of course it is, Molly. My pulse is very erratic. They might need to restart my heart on the way to the hospital and…there is approximately 50% chance that it might not work again.

Molly: Shut up, git! You owe me a lot, more than your bloody five minutes. Don’t you dare die on me now!!

The paramedics rushed into the scene.

Sherlock: (Kissed her palm) If I don’t, will you forgive me? And find it in your heart to love me again?

Molly knew well enough that Sherlock was mischievously taking advantage of the situation but at the very moment she did not care.

Molly: If you make it; only if you make it, Sherlock!

********
A small one shot…just to brighten your weekend.
Thanks for reading and take care!

You can find more of my ficlets here.

Nuchamae

“A Tug On My Heart”

Sherlolly prompt #3 from the lovely penaltywaltz - Tom shows up drunk on Molly’s doorstep, wanting her back, but she has company in the form of a naked (save for a sheet around his waist) Sherlock.

~~~~~~~~~~

Sherlock stood by quietly, in the small, yet cozy parlor of Molly’s apartment at two in the morning, as she spoke to an obviously drunk and lonely Tom at her front door.  They had been woken at this ungodly hour by his persistent banging at her door.

Sherlock was quickly losing patience with the man. Molly was trying her best to be polite and trying to calm him and explain that it wasn’t anything Tom did that broke them up, blah, blah, blah.

Sherlock initially had a minute amount of sympathy for Tom, after all he had lost Molly, but after ten minutes, Sherlock’s patience was gone.

If it wasn’t for his respect for Molly and this being her home, he would have answered the door himself and shooed Tom on his way. Then he heard Tom say, “I saw the way you used to look at that bloke, Sherlock Holmes.”  

“Oh, for God’s sake.” Sherlock muttered under his breath as he walked up behind Molly and made eye contact with Tom.  If looks could kill, this one mutilated and slayed. It took just a second for the stunned man to drop his eyes and scamper away.  Molly stood in the doorway confused by Tom’s behavior until she turned around to see Sherlock standing in the hall with only a bed sheet wrapped around his waist.

“Molly, I didn’t say a word.” Sherlock said defending himself as he walked backwards, trying not to trip on the folds of the long bed sheet.  She stalked towards him with determination and a hint of mischievousness in her eyes.  Sherlock felt a tug on the sheet as Molly placed her foot on one of the edges and it unraveled and slid off his body.

Her eyes raked over his lean, chiseled body before placing her palms on his skin. They both moaned at her touch. He was pleasantly surprised to find out how tactile Molly was after they started dating. She loved to explore both the soft and hard angles of his body.  Her hands ran across his chest, then up his neck to plunge into the thick curls of his hair.  

“Sherlock, take me back to bed.” She whispered before he picked her up and carried her to their room.


~~~~~~~~~~~

tagging kawusia25 xo

Enjoy the Show, Brother - Request

Requested by anon:  ill you write a sherlock x reader where they are making out and mycroft catches them but sherlock doesnt care and keeps kissing and starts getting handsy?

Pairing: Sherlock x reader

Word count: 560

Warnings: Sherlock getting handsy in front of Mycroft.

A/N: Short one, but I loved it. Hope you do too…

Enjoy!

Originally posted by sere221

(Y/N) was sitting on the table, with her arms around Sherlock’s shoulders and her legs framing his hips. The consultant detective was kissing her; small pecks at a time, almost shyly, as she giggled at every idiotic joke he invented along the way. It was one of those moments of intimacy that they actually enjoyed.

John was with Mary, Mrs. Hudson was out at the market and the past case had just been solved which meant a day off for the couple. Or so they thought; Mycroft entered 221B without even knocking – and if he did, neither Sherlock nor (Y/N) heard him – ready to give his brother a brand new case.

Sherlock had started deepening the kisses just when Mycroft stepped on the flat. He walked confidently towards the kitchen – aka the source of the sound of (Y/N)’s giggles – and cleared his throat to announce his arrival.

“Brother mine, (Y/N).” He cheered. (Y/N) tried to look at him but Sherlock pulled her face back to him. Mycroft cleared his throat once more. “Brother.” He insisted.

“I’m busy, Mycroft.” Sherlock replied between kisses. (Y/N) tried to move away, she was a bit shy in front of her brother-in-law, but Sherlock kept her still.

“And I’ve got a case for you.” Mycroft replied with a heavy sigh.

“Leave it on my desk, I’ll check it later.” Sherlock mutter nonchalantly and continued his snogging session with (Y/N).

“This is life or death, Sherlock.” The consultant detective groaned angrily but refused to look at him brother.

Instead, Sherlock’s hands travelled directly to (Y/N)’s arse. “Sherlock!” She squealed, making Sherlock smirk mischievously.

“Mycroft, I would recommend you to leave before she starts shouting blasphemies.” Sherlock clicked his tongue, granting one look to his brother before continuing his plan. He touched her breasts, and her hips, and her arse once more. (Y/N) tried to pull away at first, but then Sherlock begged her to play along and so she stopped.

“Brother, please.” Mycroft begged angrily.

“Leave.” Sherlock commanded. (Y/N) managed to give Mycroft an apologetic glance before he finally decided to obey.

“Ever since you got a girlfriend…” He started, giving his back to Sherlock.

“Don’t dare to finish that sentence.” Sherlock threatened as he stopped touching her.

“I was going to say something good.” Mycroft mocked him, “Nice to see you, (Y/N).” Mycroft started walking out, “and brother…”

“What?” Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“Use protection, we don’t want you to have a child while you’re still being a baby.” And with that said, Mycroft left.

Sherlock groaned angrily but got calmed down by (Y/N) rubbing his shoulders as comfort. “He’s just trying to get you back for our little show…” She whispered.

“He’s jealous because my girlfriend isn’t a plate of food that disappears two seconds after I watch it.” Sherlock hissed. (Y/N) had to agree with Mycroft, Sherlock could be a baby at times.

“Yes and that girlfriend is right in front of you and will disappear if you don’t pay attention to her.” (Y/N) said softly. Sherlock smiled lovingly and looked at her once more. “Where were we?” She inquired flirtingly.

Sherlock went back to the small pecks from the beginning. There was no hurry, no one chasing after them, no one threatening their lives. Just the two of them, enjoying a few seconds of peace in the best way they could: together.


*Requests are ALWAYS open.*

Masterlist.

Sherlock tags: @resurrection-huntress @oaisara @charlottemalfoy @zena-dukmak @just-a-blog00 @wefracturedmotivation @beccamullz @newts-fan-case

penaltywaltz  asked:

Sherlolly prompt: Molly and Sherlock's up until now secret relationship has become public and the tabloid press hasn't been kind to Molly. Sherlock hasn't seen or spoken to her all day and he's worried she's not handling it well, but her reaction surprises her. Bonus if Kitty Riley is involved, either in person or not!

Damn, I had fun with this. Thanks for the prompt, penaltywaltz


There was a reason why these things were kept silent.

Sherlock gnashed his teeth at the barrage of people crowding around Barts. It was solid wall of reporters, with their cameras, and their absolutely disgusting lack of morals. Sherlock decided that he hated blackmailers, reporters, and serial killers in that order. At least serial killers had a moral code of conduct.

“My God,” muttered John.

“Please don’t call out the name of the supposedly all-powerful,” sneered Sherlock. “It would be wasted on this rabble.”

“Sherlock,” said John. “Are you sure she’s taking it well?”

“I don’t know,” said Sherlock. “She hasn’t been answering her phone, she hasn’t been replying to texts, and she’s been in the morgue all the damn day.”

“Well, we’ll fight through this lot,” said John. “Greg’s on his way, too.”

“Tell Graham to get rid of the people at the back as well. She has enough on her plate with Moriarty just defeated.”

“You go on,” said John, as if he hadn’t heard what Sherlock said.

Sherlock steeled his nerves, and strode forward, to be nearly blinded by the flashlights.

“Mr. Holmes, does Miss Hooper know about Miss Matthews?”

“Mr. Holmes, do you tax Miss Hooper sexually?”

“Mr. Holmes, when did you two get together?”

“Mr. Holmes, was this a romance in dire circumstances?”

“Mr. Holmes, are you, Mr. Watson and Miss Hooper in it together?”

The last one almost got a scathing retort back.

Sherlock knew why he had been keeping his relationship with Molly a secret now. It wasn’t because of the dangerous criminals, the fact that John couldn’t stop staring at them like they were two very wild monkeys, or the fact that Mary had burst out laughing. It was because of the press.

Moriarty’s death had been carefully orchestrated. Molly was, once again, key in the plans. And this time, he had asked more from her than anyone else.

Careful in the kidnapping, extraordinarily skilful during questioning, Molly Hooper once again proved her superiority to the human race in general, and even to Sherlock Holmes. Molly’s part in the whole thing was so carefully questioned, that she might have given in, if not for their very voracious sexual appetites.

No one could blame Sherlock for kissing Molly soundly before she left to be kidnapped by Moriarty. It was inevitable, and almost a relief. And as Molly said, the endorphins from their sex that time helped her make it through the ordeal.

But Molly’s expertise lay in fighting off crime-lords, in autopsies, and kissing Sherlock. They didn’t lie in facing the press.

A day of a silent Molly never boded well for Sherlock. He was extremely used to prompt replies from her. He was used to her coffee, he was used to her cooking, and he was even used to her cat. He was used to kissing her in the mornings, he was used to quick romps in the supply closets, and he was used to talking, non-stop, about his cases, while she listened bemusedly.

And as he elbowed through the crowd, burst through the hospital and headed for the morgue, he felt a very familiar grip of fear. He didn’t want to loose Molly. She could stick with him through the Consulting Criminal and his moods, she could live with him despite him never being worthy of her, but Sherlock could never, ever, escape the nagging thought that she would leave and he won’t be able to find an adequate reason for her to stay.

“Molly!” said Sherlock, striding in.

The Morgue was empty, and Sherlock’s heart was in his throat.

The door of Molly’s office swung open, and a slightly absent minded Molly Hooper walked in, staring at chart.

“Oh, Sherlock!” she said, with a grin. “Hi! What brings you here? It’s not my lunch hour, and I’m too busy for anything else.”

“You haven’t replied to my texts,” said Sherlock, after a pause.

“Sorry, my phone’s been in my office,” she said. “I was not really concentrating on it. Did you know, a guy came in with one of the strangest cases of frying? It’s brilliant. He was cooking something, and everything went mad. I’ve spent all day with his samples.”

Sherlock was briefly stunned. This was followed by an immediate interest in whatever Molly was speaking of.

“- and his brain looks like a large chicken nugget,” finished Molly happily.

“Molly, what about the press?”

“What?” asked Molly, blinking.

“The press,” Sherlock’s fear was turning into amusement. He smiled. “You know. The one at your doorstep. Asking me whether or not you, me, and John are engaging in a bit of fun?”

“Oh, that one!” said Molly, blinking rapidly again. She grinned mischievously, and blushed. “I told them that you and I were star crossed lovers from another planet, and it’s really weird that we met in this life, since we’d met approximately four lives back.”

“Really?” asked Sherlock, his smile twitching.

“I told another one that I was actually an undercover spy and that my hair colour was originally red, like hers,” said Molly, being as affable about it as possible.

“Like hers?” prodded Sherlock.

“This woman. Said she knew you. Some Kitty Riley – and I was like, ‘well, you can’t have known him, either people know him as a figure on the street, or they are best friends.’ And She says to me, ‘yes, I knew him better than anybody else.’ This sort of made me laugh, and she’s just looking at me. I launch into that spy story, and then I jump into the details of poor Mr. Fries here. I even give her spy details of other missions, in Germany and Spain and all. I don’t know if she believed me or not. I certainly had her hooked. It was really fun.”

Sherlock did everything he could to restrain himself. Molly grinned at him again, pushing her glasses up her nose, and Sherlock decided that Mr. Fries be damned, he really had to kiss her right now.

The Jealousy (II)

Molly’s Flat-One Summer night

Sherlock Holmes entered Molly’s flat through the living room window as usual.

Molly: Sherlock! There is a thing called a ‘door’, you know? And I have given you the key, haven’t I?

Sherlock: If you don’t want me to use your window, why don’t you just lock it, Molly.

Molly: I couldn’t, what if you were trapped outside.

Sherlock: (smirked) You love me too much, Molly Hooper.

Molly rolled her eyes in respond while Sherlock made himself at home. The consulting detective shove Toby out from Molly’s lap, laid down on the sofa then took the cat’s place. It grumpily meowed and gave him the deadly glare which was ignored completely by Sherlock.

Molly: I am not your pillow, Sherlock. (Sighed but with warm smile) You look tired. When was the last time you sleep?

Sherlock: Three days ago.

Molly: Three days?! Why don’t you go lie down and get some sleep? Oh…but my bedroom is a bit messy, Tom asked if he could have all of his stuff back so I have been packing.

Sherlock: T..o..m, you ex? So you are sending him back his things?

Molly: Nop, I’m seeing him tomorrow for lunch. You know, we are friends still. It’d be better to meet up with him in person.

Sherlock: I see…

Sherlock suddenly got up and offered her his hand.

Sherlock: Let’s go to bed, Molly.

Molly: Hm? You go ahead, I want to finish this book first. It’s Tom’s. He said I could keep it but I think I should just….

Molly did not get her chance to finish as Sherlock picked her up in his arms and headed to her bedroom.

Molly: Sherlock, what are you doing?!

Sherlock: Isn’t it obvious? I am taking you to bed.

Molly: But Sherlock, I want to finish…

Molly was not able to say anything further as Sherlock swooped down to kiss her fiercely on the lips. In between the kiss, Molly tried to protested.

Molly: to finish Tom’s (kissed) book. I’m to see (kissed) him tomorrow. I (kissed) Oh…God, Sherlock.

Molly finally gave in and kissed him back. Sherlock grinned slyly into her mouth. As he laid her down on ‘their’ bed, the book was carefully pried off her hand then thrown into one of the boxes, containing Tom’s stuff and finally forgotten.

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

The morning after

Molly Hooper was pissed, very pissed, when she saw herself in the mirror. Sherlock Holmes had intentionally left his love bites on her almost everywhere; the sides of her neck, collarbone, shoulder and breasts. There was no way she could cover all the marks with her summer clothes. And she was to meet up with her ex fiancé in an hour.

Molly: God…I will kill you, Sherlock Holmes!

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

A gastro pub-lunch time

John: Why are we having lunch out today, mate? I thought the case was closed.

Sherlock did not answer as he was deeply focusing on someone else in particular. John turned, took a peek and chuckled.

John: Possessive ass. So you are following Molly and her fiancé. It’s Tom, isn’t it, his name?

Sherlock: It’s her ‘EX’ fiancé and yes, the name is ‘Tom’.

John: Molly has a cold?

Sherlock: No, as far as I know, she is perfectly healthy.

John: Then why is she wearing that scarf? It’s bloody hot today.

Sherlock (grinned mischievously): Yeah, why so, John?

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

Find The Jealousy (I) here: http://nuchamae.tumblr.com/post/83435814285/the-jealousy-i-barts-hospital-the-glass
Little Sister - Request

Requested by anon:  Could you do like a Little sister? Maybe with Sherlock? Sherlock brought her with him and he loves her and stuff but little sister wants more attention?

Characters: Sister!Reader x Brother!Sherlock (no incest)

Word count: 840

Warnings: This is just a tiny thing I wanted to do.

Enjoy!

Originally posted by deliciousdeathexperts

“Sherry, Sherry, Sherry…” (Y/N) repeated over again.

“I’m busy.” He stated, rolling his eyes and then focusing back on his microscope.

“Why did you bring me here, then? I want you to pay attention to me!” She whined.

“I brought you here because mom and dad couldn’t take care of you this weekend and Mycroft is out of the country doing some business.” Sherlock explained tiredly.

(Y/N), as dramatic as her brothers, threw herself on the couch with a hand on her forehead.

“Behold the disdain in which my brother treats me!” She chanted like she was interpreting some Shakespearian play, “I cannot live like this anymore! Without thy attention, without thy love! I shall die now; die of boredom for I am utterly bored! Good-bye, brother dear!” And with that being said, she pretended to die – coughing excessively, and making strange noises – letting her head fall off the couch.

Sherlock chuckled and walked over to his sister. “Come on, (Y/N), you are being dramatic.”

“I’m not being dramatic, I’m being dead.” She argued, opening only one eye for a split second before shutting it.

“You can’t be dead.” (Y/N) smiled, “Oh…” Sherlock laughed.

“Brother, bury me in satin and lay me down in a bed of roses, so my corpse can rest within the smell of spring.” She continued.

Sherlock rolled his eyes and did the unexpected: He tickled (Y/N) until she was on the floor, and even then he continued to tickle her.

“St-Stop!” She shouted as a tear left her right eye due to the laughter.

“I’m bringing you back to life, sister!” Sherlock cackled and continued to tickle her.

“NOOOOO!” She screamed and bursted in the most hilarious laughter Sherlock had ever heard. The detective laughed as well, forgetting all about the tickles.

Both brothers lied on the floor, laughing their arses off at (Y/N)’s sudden laughter. Their bellies ached and their eyes were covered in tears. They were red as the devil, and their eyes were surrounded by crinkles. Their teeth were visible and they looked like they were convulsing rather than laughing.

“I told you I was fun.” (Y/N) argued once the laughter ended.

“I must admit, you are funnier than Mycroft.” Sherlock agreed.

“Everyone’s funnier than Mycroft.” She snapped and then the two of them bursted once again in laughter.

“Ha-ha!” A third voice complained. The two brothers sat up on the floor and saw Mycroft standing in the middle of the living room with a bitter look on his face.

“What are you doing here, Mycroft?” Sherlock inquired.

“I came back early.” The man replied, “Turns out, the ambassador of Antwerp didn’t need my presence.”

“Such a pity.” Sherlock snapped.

“Yes, apparently someone made the appointment while being at my office.” Mycroft continued.

“Your workers aren’t as loyal as you think, then.” Sherlock commented.

“Yes, except they weren’t my workers but rather a man with a ridiculous trench coat.” Mycroft fumed.

“It’s not a trench coat.” Sherlock muttered, finally accepting his guilt.

“Sherlock!” (Y/N) exclaimed.

“I don’t know the reason of your prank, but I beg of you not to do that again. We don’t want more trouble, right brother?” Mycroft cocked an eyebrow.

“No, not at all.” Sherlock gave him a boyish grin. “Now, please leave, you are ruining the fun.”

“I always knew you were a softie for our little sister, but making me travel just to spend the weekend with her…” Mycroft shook his head and (Y/N) could have sworn his lips curved in a tiny, tiny, tiny smile.

“Does that make me a better brother?” Sherlock inquired.

“It does.” Mycroft stated, “(Y/N), when this cock tires you, know that your room is already set. Doctor John Watson left a perfectly useful room, indeed, but I believe you will be more comfortable at my house rather than this messy flat.”

(Y/N) nodded and instantly noticed Sherlock’s sad look. His face had changed in seconds.

“Thank you, Mike.” (Y/N) mumbled, “But Sherlock and I are planning on doing a slumber party.”

Sherlock recovered his smile.

“A what?”

“A slumber party… You know, the ones girls do with pillow fights and movies and loads of food.” (Y/N) explained.

“Then I’m glad you are not staying with me.” Mycroft confessed, “Have fun, kids.”

Mycroft waltzed out of the flat. Sherlock and (Y/N) remained silent until they heard him close the front door; then, they both giggled their nerves out.

“I thought he would make a drama, just like when we were kids.” (Y/N) spoke.

“He will make a drama, except he will not do it in front of everyone but rather in the privacy of his own room.” Sherlock said and then both of them laughed again.

“You know what else is done in slumber parties?” She asked and Sherlock shook his head, “Prank calls. And I happen to have a phone that Mycroft hasn’t registered yet.”

Sherlock smiled mischievously. “I was going to refuse to make a slumber party with you until this exact moment.”

“So is that a yes?”

“Yes!”


Masterlist

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sherlollymouse  asked:

Sherlolly prompt: Molly discovers Sherlock can bake exceptionally well (because its just chemistry), but he's more embarrassed about how she finds out then he lets on (because he's Sherlock, he'd brush it off). She decides to bake with him in hopes he'll be less embarrassed.

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