sherlock bbc au

Imagine your OTP
  • Person A: Kill them with kindness.
  • Person B: No.
  • Person A: Kill them with kindness.
  • Person B: Stop.
  • Person A: Kill them with-
  • Person B: DON'T TAKE THAT LITERALLY YOU IDIOT! STOP BASHING THAT POOR GIRL WITH FLOWERS!
Curious Man - (Sherlock x reader)

Imagine: Meeting Sherlock at a store while he waits for Watson to buy a gift for Mary.

Pairing: Sherlock x reader

Word count: 579

Warnings: None.

A/N: I wanted to write this for the longest time and now I finally did it. It’s just a small drabble because I’m still not in shape to write a proper Sherlock fanfiction. Yet, I hope you like it.

Originally posted by dracomafloy

“Beautiful choice, very fashionable if I may say so.” A male voice interrupted you.

You were doing your early Christmas shopping, a tradition you had started the first year you moved out of your parent’s house. Basically, you would buy all kinds of gifts for yourself before the prices got up.

“Thank you, sir.” You replied with a smile as you looked to the man that had spoken.

He was tall and slim, dark locks framing his pale face and deep blue eyes analysing you.

“I’m sure your fiancé will like it.” He continued. You furrowed your eyebrows.

It was common for people to inquire that you had a boyfriend, but this man was being too specific.

“I’m afraid I don’t have a fiancé.” You giggled. The man let out a breathy sigh.

“Then why are you wearing an engagement ring?” He asked. You looked down to your hand, which in fact had an engagement ring. “Don’t be ashamed of him. It is in fact an old engagement ring, probably his mother’s ring. I can see that it looks quite unused in spite of the age of it, so I’m guessing you got recently engaged.”

You smiled in amusement. The man seemed to be a pretty smart guy, yet he was wrong.

“I’ve told you: I’m not engaged.” The blue-eyed man furrowed, not willing to believe your words.

“Come again?” He asked.

“I said: you’re wrong.” You replied. The man looked too dumbfounded not to be funny, and hell, it took you an eye and half of the other not to laugh at his face.

“How can I be wrong? It is an engagement ring, and it is on your hand in the right finger. It’s old, and yet it looks clean because you haven’t worn it much.” You nodded.

“It is in fact an engagement ring, and I am in fact wearing it correctly. It is old, true, but it looks clean because I only wear it on occasions.” The man was truly messed up.

“So you only wear it on occasions because…” Before he could make a suggestion of you being a cheater to your fiancé or a single lady wearing a fake ring to keep men away, you interrupted.

“It was my mother’s engagement ring,” you spoke, “She gave it to me a few years ago. I’m not engaged and I only wear it every now and then because I don’t want people to think I’m already taken.”

“There’s always something…” The man whispered to himself.

“Sorry?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Nothing, never mind.” He shook the thought away with a hand gesture. “So, mind telling me why you don’t want people to think you’re taken?”

“You are a very curious man, aren’t you?” You laughed, not answering to his question.

“I am, in fact.” He responded, puffing his chest out and coking his eyebrow proudly.

“May I ask why you are so concerned about my relationship status?” You asked, smirking.

“I happen to find you very pleasing to the eye and, now, I also find you very interesting.” He answered, taking good care of his words; he sounded like he was afraid to say something wrong, yet somehow he also sounded confident.

“My name’s…”

“(Y/N).” He finished. You gasped what kind of man was he?

“How…?”

“You’re wearing a bracelet with your name on it.” He simply replied.

“What a strange man you are, Mr…” He smirked at your words.

“Holmes,” He spoke, “Sherlock Holmes.”

Omg guys. But soulmate au where you have the first words your soulmate ever speaks to you on your skin but you don’t have anything on your wrist and so you live your whole life with this feeling of being alone but then one day you meet someone and you say something really stupid and they just stand there in shock but they can’t explain why and you assume it’s because what you said offended them and you start to apologize but they shake their head and scramble to lift the sleeve of their shirt and there on their wrist are the words you just fucking said and you start to cry because you have to tell this person that it must be a coincidence because you don’t have a soulmate and you lift up your sleeve to show that there’s nothing there and they grab your face and smile so big and reach into their pocket to pull out a note they must have carried around for a long time because society demands because there on that paper are the words “I’m mute”

Expectant - Request

Requested by anon:  could you do a Reader x Sherlock where she finds out she’s expecting and Sherlock has no idea how to react for awhile? Thank you :-)
Also, another anon requested for a fluffy one with Sherlock so…

Summary: (Y/N) is acting strange, and Sherlock notices. She ends up confessing the truth and… He struggles to find the words.

Pairing: Sherlock x reader

Warnings: Bit of angst (not really) because of Sherlock’s reaction. Also, fluffy.

Word count: 2,807

A/N: My Sherlock feels are rising like the fenix rises from the ashes, THANKS! This is fluffy and cheesy and I love it, hope you do too. Remember feedback is highly appreciated.

Enjoy!

Originally posted by xthismeanswar

London had never been quieter. Not a single criminal dared to show up in the past week – or at least not one Sherlock cared about.

With his fiddle in hand and a melody on his head, Sherlock played for hours and hours throughout the morning. His feet with move along the music as he followed his girlfriend around the flat, making sure to keep his eyes on her at every moment.

(Y/N) was tiding it up a little since neither Sherlock nor John would do it.

“You know you don’t have to do that.” Sherlock spoke as he waltzed his way closer to her.

“I know, I just… Need to kill time, I guess.” Sherlock tilted his head.

“Anxiety?” She shook her head.

“Maybe I’m just bored.” Sherlock smiled warmly at her.

“I knew I wasn’t the only one getting bored here.” He said.

“Bored? You?” (Y/N) let out a fake laugh, “As far as I can tell you’re having a blast with your instrument.”

Sherlock didn’t reply with words but rather changing the tune to a faster one.

“Show off.” She hissed jokingly and moved to his room, where she picked up the dirty clothes and dusted the furniture.

Sherlock couldn’t help but to notice something strange in her. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it because it was such a slight change in her – and a good kind of change – that deducing it would take him hours. And that’s why he was following her.

She was resplendent yet she looked tired. “Why are you tired?”

(Y/N) looked up at him; she had been dragged out of her thoughts. “Sorry?”

“Why are you tired?” Sherlock repeated, “Last night we did… We did sleep late but we always do.”

“Maybe it’s all this cleaning.” (Y/N) suggested.

“You’ve followed me on cases that could get anyone tired after five minutes without even flinching, it’s not the cleaning.” Sherlock observed. He stopped playing and stood still, following her every move.

“Maybe I’m getting old.” Sherlock lifted an eyebrow.

“Impossible.” He stated, “If you were getting old I would be too and I’m feeling great.”

“We are getting old.” She emphasized, “With each second that passes.”

Sherlock sighed heavily and continued to play. (Y/N) excused herself and left to the bathroom. It was the fifth time she went and it wasn’t even close to mid-day.

Sherlock stopped playing once again and walked back to the living room where John was sitting and reading a newspaper.

“There’s something off about her.” Sherlock whispered without even looking at his friend but rather keeping his ice blue eyes glued to the bathroom door.

Watson, who knew exactly what was going on, shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and changed the page. He had been pretending to read the whole morning, for he knew it would be impossible for him not to react.

“You’ve read this newspaper three times already.” Sherlock observed.

“I like to re-read… Make sure everything sticks to my mind.” John replied.

“Guess that’s a method that works for common minds.” John couldn’t help but to roll his eyes, “But honestly, John, can’t you see? There’s something off about her.”

“She’s your girlfriend, Sherlock, not mine.” John beamed.

“She’s your friend, and you’re a doctor.” John sighed and scratched the corner of his eyes.

“She’s not sick.”

“How can you tell?” John inquired, “Did you check her body temperature? Her blood pressure? Her…”

“She’s fine!” John assured. Sherlock, of course, didn’t buy it and waited patiently for her to get out.

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On Edge - Request

Requested by anon:  Can you make a heated sherlock imagine where he hasn’t had a case in a while but hasn’t been able to go to the drug dens or smoke because of Y/N so he takes out his frustration on her ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) (doesn’t have to be smut but it could be real HEATED)

Summary: Sherlock has no cases and John forbid him to smoke. (Y/N) continues to mock him about it, without telling him where his cigarettes are, which leads Sherlock to find other ways to take out his frustration and, at the same time, showing her what it’s like to be on edge.

Pairing: Sherlock x reader

Warnings: Smut - edging, fingering, teasing -, dominant!Sherlock

Word count: 2,447

A/N: This is the longest piece of smut I’ve written and it’s not even smut like so, wow. I hope you like this!

Enjoy!

Originally posted by iamcumberlocked

Sherlock stomped from one side to the other of the flat.  He was frantically looking for that tiny carton box, hidden somewhere inside that messy labyrinth he had unconsciously created. She was sitting on the sofa, knowing exactly what he was doing but pretending to ignore it, although Sherlock had noticed that sly smirk formed on her red lips.

Not a case, not a single one, and that was his curse. He had saved everyone and gotten to be a big and famous detective, but what was the price of fame? Boredom, that was.

“I need them.” Sherlock begged. His back was turned to her, but he knew exactly how big and curved that mischievous grin on her face was.

“No.” She replied.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Sherlock finally turned to see her.

Her legs were crossed, one over the other, and her feet were pointing at him. The black high heels matched the black pencil skirt that failed to hide the soft skin from her thighs. Her hands were holding one of his old books, and her arms rested lazily over one of the arm-holders. A messy strand of hair had fell over her face, framing it so delicately it made Sherlock get distracted for a few milliseconds.

“John told me you were annoying when you were bored.” She said, “But I have to say it: You are fascinating.”

“I’m even better when I’m smoking.” Sherlock snapped. He lifted his chin, trying to look like the intimidating man from the newspapers rather than an anxious boy.

“Those things will kill you one day.” She leaned back on the couch, allowing her head to fall back on the pillow. Sherlock observed said movement as if it had been performed in slow motion.

How the lose strand bounced over her nose before falling back to the side. The way her eyes shut after her head touched the soft fabric, and that slight breeze of air her lips expelled. The way her chest rose up a bit after, inhaling once more. And her feet, one of them – the one from the leg crossed on top – still pointing at him. How her delicate hands left the book over her lap, calling his attention to focus yet again on her skin.

He was driving him insane.

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6

Sherlock HC/AU: The British Government and the largest criminal network - behind the scenes, Mycroft Holmes and Moriarty have been exchanging information on several occasions. Invulnerability comes with a price tag for both sides.

3

Masterlist

Gifs not mine.

A/N: This could link to one of the other reader inserts ‘The Baby Is Coming’ but you don’t have to read that to understand this. I hope I haven’t made Mycroft or Sherlock to OOC. Enjoy! xxx 


Exhausted was an understatement. You knew that childbirth was very painful and tiring but nothing could have prepared you for that. However, the long nine months and incredibly painful birth was all worth it as your little boy was born. Sherlock was stood by the window nursing the babe. He’d insisted that you slept but you wanted to stay awake because the Holmes parents, now grandparents, were on their way. You assumed that Mycroft would probably stay at the Holmes residence but you didn’t know whether he’d be forced to pay a visit to the hospital. Sherlock was tense. You could tell he didn’t want Mycroft to come but you did. You wanted a close family and although Mycroft was a fairly distant and an unsociable person, he was the uncle of your child and you wanted him to be involved.

 

 

“Yes mother,” A voice said from the other side of the door. The voice belonged to Mycroft Holmes. “The nurse said that they were in here.” The door opened slowly and in came Mycroft and his parents.

“Congratulations!” Mrs Holmes exclaimed and came over to your bedside. She kissed your cheek and then rushed over to Sherlock and kissed him. Mr Holmes gave his congratulations whereas Mycroft stayed in the doorway.

“Have you decided on a name?” Mycroft asked.

“Arthur Hamish William Holmes,” You replied with a smile.

“My little Arthur,” Mrs Holmes said happily as she took the boy from Sherlock. “I say that we’re too young to be grandparents."  

"I for one accept my age,” Her husband replied but she just chuckled. After holding Arthur for quite a while, she finally passed your son over to grandfather Holmes.

“Finally a grandchild,” He said. “We knew Mycroft would never have children and we finally gave up hope with Sherlock. Then he met you, Y/N. You both produced a lovely little baby boy. My grandson.” He was full of pride.

“Would you like a hold?” You asked Mycroft.

Sherlock was about to object but his brother did first. “No thank you,” He said. “Babies are not really my forte and I have a good view from here.”

“No I insist.”

“I don’t-”

“Mycroft Holmes, you will take the baby, hold the baby, and enjoy it.” You got out of bed and you took Arthur from Mr Holmes. You then passed him to the child’s uncle. Mycroft was terrified. He was almost shaking. Mycroft was in charge of the whole country (practically) but that was no problem and he was as cool as a cucumber. Give him a child and he will panic.

“I think we should all, with the exception of Mycroft and Y/N, get some coffee,” Mrs Holmes said. “No objections!" They all got up and left. There was no arguing with Mrs Holmes.

 

 

Mycroft watched helplessly as you fell asleep. He had hoped to hand Arthur back you but tiredness had took over you. He couldn’t give him to anyone else either. He was stuck. He walked over to the window, which was where Sherlock had stood earlier. Mycroft looked down at the boy. Arthur’s eyes were wide open and he was looking up at his uncle. Mycroft’s expression softened. He began to realise how important this child was to him. He was trusted with little Arthur and he would do anything to protect him. Mycroft was the one who taught Sherlock to not care however the 'iceman’ himself was now making exceptions.

 

 

Sherlock entered the room. He saw you asleep in the bed and then saw his older brother looking down at Arthur with admiration in his eyes.

"I may appear harsh,” Mycroft stated. “However, I promise that I will do everything in my power to keep Arthur, you, and Y/N safe.”

“Were you not doing that already?”

“Yes but that was out of 'brotherly compassion.’ Now it is out of… Out of… Love.” Love was a hard word for Mycroft to get out but he did it all the same.

Sherlock chuckled. “I’m flattered.”

“I’m serious.”

“I’m the father. Am I not able to keep my wife and child safe?”

“Yes but what happens when it comes to cases? When you’re getting into other people’s business and you put yourself and them in danger? Or when you’re bored so you get high? Who will be there to pick up the pieces? This isn’t a game, Sherlock! These are people’s lives!”

“I’m a changed man now.”

“I’m trying to help, Sherlock!”

He sighed. “Then thank you. Also, Y/N would like you to be godfather as well as John.”

“Just Y/N?”

“Fine! I guess I think you’d be fit too…”

“Then I am honoured.”

Probably at some point during a case:
  • Anderson: So you think the murderer is his wife..
  • Sherlock: Yes
  • Anderson: Oh, come on! There's a gun in his hand! It'obvious! He's killed himself!
  • Sherlock: Shh!
  • Sherlock: Did you hear that?
  • Anderson: What?
  • Sherlock: The sound of the fuck I give about the bullshits you say.