A/N: thank you! I love writing these. I decided to do another Sherlock one. This hints a slight Sherlock x reader romance but it depends on how you interpret it. Otherwise, romance is not intended.
“Hello, my people!” You called from downstairs. You dragged your suitcase through the door. You had decided to take a holiday and now you had returned to your lodgings at 221B.
“Huzzah,” Sherlock groaned and rolled his eyes. “Y/N is back.”
John chuckled. “You love her really.”
“I don’t love, John.”
“What did I miss?” You asked as you entered the flat, your luggage trailing behind you.
“Nothing much,” John said smiling. He stood up and hugged you.
“Well it’s good to be back.”
“Yes, for some people,” Sherlock muttered.
“What’s that, Sherlock?” You replied and put your hand behind your ear. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you as I was too busy looking for the fucks I give.” John chuckled. A grin formed on your face. “I’m kidding. I’ve missed you.”
“I suppose I’ve missed you,” Sherlock sighed.
“Awe! Bring it in, Sherly!” You walked over to him and hugged him tightly. This received another eye roll from him.
“Y/N, I don’t think physical contact is necessary.”
“Yes it is!” You hugged him tighter which made him very uncomfortable.
“Yes… Well then…” His phone buzzed. He whipped his head around to the direction of his phone, which was laying on the table, however he couldn’t see the screen from where he was. "John! We have a case!“
"Yep!” You said after you let go of him and phone. “Lestrade just sent you a text. Oh! How fun! I’m coming too!”
“You’ve just got home!” John pointed out.
“But I’ve missed this!” You spun around. “Come on, let’s go!”
The detective, the doctor, and their fabulous friend (this was you of course) arrived at the crime scene like the three musketeers. Sherlock lifted up the yellow tape for John and yourself to go under.
“Morning, you lot,” Lestrade said. “Hello, Y/N. How was the holiday?”
“Good,” You replied with a smile. “Glad to be back though.”
“Oh look!” Donovan announced as she walked up. “The bitch is back!”
“Ah!” A smirk formed upon your face and you turned to face you. “One person I haven’t been looking forward to seeing. Still shagging everyman you find?”
“I don’t sleep with everyone. Ugh! You’re so annoying.”
“Hey, it’s not my fault that you’re a fucking whore.”
“Alright!” Lestade announced as John and Sherlock tried to stifle their laughter. “Calm down.”
“Sorry,” You responded. “I just don’t like this constant inhaling exhaling thing she’s got going on.”
“Right, Y/N!” Lestrade threw his arms up in the air. “I hate to have to do this but you have to leave.”
“I can’t have you arguing with Donovan all the time.”
“My boys are back!” You shouted as you heard the door below shut.
“You need to stop arguing with Sally!” John called as he climbed up the stairs after a successful case. “One day, Lestrade will stop you coming to the crime scenes altogether!”
“‘Sally?’ I didn’t realise we were on a first name basis with her.”
“Shorter than Donovan. Easier to say.” John entered the flat after Sherlock.
“You haven’t even unpacked,” Sherlock noted.
“No,” You replied with a smile. “I guess I’m too eager to jump back into the action.”
“Have you heard from Y/N today? She said she was sick but she usually calls in,” Sherlock questioned, your absence catching his attention as they began to walk down your street. While he looked lost in his own thoughts, John quickly checked his phone to find still no messages or calls from you.
“No, but if she says she’s sick we should just leave her be. Sherlock, Sherlock no-” John called, trying to reach out and grab Sherlock as he began to turn and head straight to your familiar red door. John’s fingers wrapped around thin air as he stood for a moment, watching Sherlock as he sighed before he looked both ways and crossed the street behind the curly haired man.
“Too late,” Sherlock called back as he ran up to your door, quickly finding your ‘hidden’ key yet he knocked once before. “Y/N?”
“She’s probably asleep, we should just- And now you’re breaking in. Y/N isn’t going to be okay with this,” John insisted as Sherlock opened the door and stepped into your cool apartment.
“I don’t care, I’m just concerned,” Sherlock brushed off John’s concern as the smaller man followed him into the apartment, closing the door behind him.
“Yeah I’m sure she’ll believe that,” John mumbled, looking into the empty living room before watching Sherlock begin to walk down the hallway to your kitchen and bedroom.
“Y/N? Y/N?” Sherlock called as he opened your bedroom door. John watched as he froze in the doorway, quickly moving to join his friend.
“OH MY GOD! GET OUT SHERLOCK!” you screamed trying to cover yourself with your blankets,“Sherlock please!”
“Is- Is that Moriarty?” John asked, peeking his head in the doorframe beside a speechless Sherlock as your bedmate popped up from the covers.
“Hi,” he greeted, a smug grin on his face as he watched John and Sherlock looking at the two of you with your messy hair and the scattered clothes all over the room.
“Good God will all of you shut the fuck up! Yes okay, Moriarty and I have been seeing each other,” you shouted, feeling a headache begin to form as you readjusted the blankets, trying desperately to make sure Sherlock and John didn’t see anything indecent.
“Really! Y/N! I thought- My God,” John stuttered, still reeling though Sherlock stood beside him cold as ice and quiet as he glared down Moriarty.
“You know, people keep saying that today. Is it Sunday? Because I’ve never heard God said this much on a weekday.”
“Shut the fuck up Moriarty!”
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xxno-wayxx said: Sherlock x reader. Reader has a miscarriage?
Warnings: miscarriage and depression.
A/N: this is probably one of the most angsty things I have ever written but I do love write angst. Also, please don’t read this if it is a sensitive topic for you. Also, I added a season four quote in here as I thought it was necessary as it fit the writing. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! xxx
He wished you’d say something. He wished you'd laugh. He wished you’d smile. Oh how he loved your smile. The way your lips curved and captured joy with the ray of sunshine of your face. The way your eyes lit up and sparkled. That hadn’t occurred in a long while.
You kept him sane. He could listen to you for hours and not tire of your voice, your sweet melodic voice. Sherlock would be fascinated by you, despite your belief that you were quite ordinary. He was also in love with you; an emotion he denied feeling for a while. However, when the time came for him to care for you, he couldn’t. You’d shut him out completely. You’d shut everyone since the trip to the hospital…
You awoke with labour-like pains in the middle of the night. You screamed out in agony and pools of blood was running down your leg.
“It’s only six months!” You cried out in both pain and agony. You clung to Sherlock as he held you in his arms. “This cannot be happening.” Your wails could be heard from downstairs so Mrs Hudson, fearing the worst, came up to your flat but Sherlock sent her swiftly away as she entered the bedroom.
“I’m going to call an ambulance,” Sherlock whispered softly to you. He went to leave you to get his phone as the pair of you had just so happened to leave your phones in the living room. When he pulled away to leave, you clung to him tighter so he picked you up and carried you with him when he went to retrieve the phone. He knew moving would make the pain increase but you wouldn’t leave him.
Everything seemed to go in a blur until you had to give birth. That was very slow and full of torment. Sherlock was by your side through it all. He tried to stay strong for you. In the end, you were left on the bed with your tiny child in your arms. Nothing could have brought her round. You could do nothing but look down at her and weep. But you didn’t weep. You just felt empty. Sherlock felt the same but a single tear trickled down his face. It’s not like Sherlock didn’t care. He cared a lot as he loved you and your baby, that you unfortunately lost. You cried buckets after the birth but as soon as she was placed in her arms, all emotion was lost from your exterior. Sherlock hated the thought of you bottling it all inside.
“She needs a name,” You stated. Sherlock nodded in agreement.
“And a middle name?”
Sherlock thought. “Elizabeth. Melody Elizabeth Holmes.”
“My little Melody.”
“Y/N,” Sherlock called. “I’ve made you a cup of tea.” Sherlock never made anyone tea and he knew you wouldn’t drink it but he wanted to try. You were stood by the window gazing out at the street below. You’d been stood there for around an hour lost in your thoughts like usual. You’d been like this for three months. Your body had healed relatively quickly but you were mentally unstable. You rarely ate or drank and you hardly slept. You only slept after the miscarriage and you felt absolutely exhausted. Well, you did feel incredibly tired for the next three months but couldn’t bring yourself to sleep. When you did sleep, you didn’t want to wake up.
“Y/N,” Sherlock repeated the tea. This time you slowly turned your head to face him. You frame was thin, due to the lack of eating and you had heavy bags under your eyes.
“I’m fine,” You replied quietly. That wasn’t the voice Sherlock was used to hearing as it was broken one.
“You haven’t done anything today, have you?”
“Have you eaten?”
He sighed. “Y/N, you need help.”
“My baby needed help.” Your eyes welled up. Sherlock took this as a good sign. It was awful to see you cry but he detested seeing you so isolated from the world. This was your first emotional outburst since the day you lost your child.
“I killed her, Sherlock!” You screamed as the flood of tears streamed down the cheeks that were once rosie.
“No,” Sherlock said sternly and walked over to you. He put his hands on your shoulders. “This is not your fault. It was inevitable.”
“Then who’s fault is it?”
“There a several causes that can cause it-”
“But what if the cause is me? What if I have a problem.”
Sherlock sighed. "Approximately 60 percent of miscarriages are caused by mismatched chromosomes. So, if you blame yourself, then you will also have to blame me. Also, most miscarriages are a one time thing so this may not be a problem with you. Please, my love, stop hurting yourself.“
"I just…” You couldn’t think of the right word. “Hurt. Sherlock, I just hurt. I feel so empty. It’s been three months. I should have my little girl with me now. New-born and alive and healthy and… She’s not.”
“We can’t bring her back though.”
“I will help you. Everyone will help you. However, you need to realise that I…" A lump formed in his throat. "I lost my child too and now I worry that I’ll lose you.”
“I’m so sorry.” Only now did you realise the pain you put him through. “I didn’t mean for this. I didn’t mean to put you through any pain. I was selfish.”
“No you weren’t selfish. Your baby died, our baby died!” He sighed. “It’s okay.”
“But it’s not!”
“No but it is what it is. We will get help and we’ll get through this together.”
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Could you do a moriarty imagine where he's drunk and acting really silly and adorable? :3
Reader x Moriarty
You were curled up on your couch with a book when you heard someone pounding on your flat door. Cautiously, you placed the book on the table nearby and opened it, relieved when you saw it was Jim.
“Jim, what are you doing here?” You asked. You had thought that he hadn’t wanted to talk to you after the fight you had today. Both of you had said things that you didn’t mean, but you thought he needed some time to cool down and accept that you went on a date without telling him.
“I’ve been thinking,” Jim stumbled into your flat laughing, “And drinking.” He laughed again. “And I don’t wanna fight with you.”
“How much did you drink?” You asked, guiding him into your kitchen and grabbing him some water and bread.
“You didn’t say you that you didn’t want to fight with me.” Jim pouted and pushed away the bread and water. “That’s what they give you in prison.”
“Of course I don’t want to fight with you.” You told him, although you doubted that he would remember this tomorrow.
Jim stood up and grabbed your hand, stumbling as he walked from the kitchen to your living room. “Can we watch Frozen?”
You ran back into the kitchen and grabbed the bread and water before jogging back to Jim. “If you eat all the bread and drink all the water.”
With the roll of his eyes, Jim took the water and bread for you. “Fine, I’ll eat the prison food.” He giggled and tapped your nose, before adding, “But only for you.”
“I’m honored.” You laughed, sitting on the couch.
Jim took a seat next to you. “You should, because I’m going to prison for you. But at least they let me see you.” Jim thought for a moment. “I must’ve threatened to kill someone they love.”
“Let’s not kill anyone.” You patted his arm.
Jim slid his palm onto yours and laced your fingers together. “I’d kill him,” he whispered.
You let out a deep breath, knowing exactly who he was talking about and tried to pull your hand away. Jim held on tighter. “Jim-”
Jim cut you off. “He won’t treat you right, and you deserve to be treated like a queen. So, you shouldn’t be with him.” Jim looked into your eyes more vulnerable than you had ever seen him before. “You shouldn’t be with him, you should be with me.”
“You’re drunk.” You told him.
“I may be drunk but I’m going to wake up tomorrow morning with the same feelings for you.” Jim held your hand tighter. “I love you drunk, and I love you sober. Somethings never change.”
“Jim-” You began.
“Shhhh,” Jim wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you into his chest. “I just want to sit here with you in my arms.”
“Jim,” You began again, and this time he let you. “I love you too.”
Jim held onto you tighter, only letting go the next morning when you told him that you loved him again.
1enchantedfantasy1 said: Don’t know if you’ve done this before but can you do John’s daughter who is really good at deducting and Sherlock always takes her on cases and John gets pissed? Please and Thanks! ❤😊
A/N: I’m so sorry that this has taken along time to post but I hope you enjoy it. x
“Therefore, the uncle is the murderer,” You announced proudly to Sherlock and Scotland Yard. Sherlock smirked when you made an idiot out of the others. He, of course, had already solved the murder but he took you along because he valued your contributions and you were one of the only people that could challenge his intelligence.
“Well done,” He praised you as you both walked away from the scene. His smile faded as he laid his eyes upon a man getting out of a black taxi. That man was not a happy bunny.
“You took her out of school?” Your father roared as he strode over towards you.
“Well she wasn’t very interested in-”
“I don’t care, Sherlock! Y/N, you’re taking your A levels next month!”
“I know, dad,” You replied with a sigh. “But they’re all incredibly boring. And besides, I want to be a detective like Uncle Sherlock!” He wasn’t your biological uncle but he’d been like a second father to you since your mum, Mary Watson, died when you were a baby. She left John a single father with you and your twin sister Rosie. “Going out with him gives me experience!”
“You also need grades to become a detective, Y/N.”
“Y/N, I’m taking you back to school.”
“Ugh!” You stormed into the taxi that was waiting.
“Sherlock, I’ll have a word with you back in Baker Street!”
You were sat in chemistry listening to the teacher babbling on, when a classmate passed you a note. It read:
Meet me in Hyde Park after school. There is a great case that I would really value your opinion on. - SH.