sherlock bbc au

Tipsy - Request

Requested by anon: I would like to request a Sherlock x reader where he has been drugged and how he’s really cute and a little dirty towards her in front of John. Haha like while “high”. Just super fluffy and cute and maybe a little smutty/implied smut/ a little dirty haha. I get if you’re too busy or don’t feel like writing it, no problem. Love you.
& anon: I have a request for you (if youre still taking..?) so sherlock and john gets drunk and sherlock starts hitting on (and gets kissy and touchy) on reader which has been her girlfriend for months xD ?

Pairing: Sherlock x reader.

Word count: 2,026

Warnings: Just like in “The sign of three” this things gives a lot of twists.

A/N: Drunk Sherlock and Watson are my fave, I loved this so much!

Enjoy!

Sherlock and John weren’t the kind of men to get drunk every week, however and because of the stress they had been put through in their last case, they decided to go to the bar together.

At first it was just beer and talking and complaining, but then, someone recognized Sherlock and decided to put a little something on his beer which, added up to what he had already drunk, ended up turning him into a dizzy, slurry mess.

John was drunk as well, but for a different reason: he had mixed tequila with beer.

They walked – stumbled – their way back to Baker Street. It wasn’t even ten o’clock when that happened, so both (Y/N) and Mrs. Hudson were up and sharing a cup of tea while the boys came back, doing all kinds of strange noises as they walked in that called both women’s attention.

“What are you two doing here?” Mrs. Hudson asked as she and (Y/N) walked out to the stair case where John and Sherlock were laying. (Y/N) couldn’t help but to laugh at the image and the sound of her laughter caught Sherlock’s attention.

“(Y/N)!” He cheered drunkenly, “AREN’T YOU THE MOST BEAUTIFUL BEING ON EARTH?”

“Wow, someone’s loud tonight.” She joked and Sherlock walked to her and held her tightly against his chest.

“You are sooooo beautiful!” He slurred, “And so hot, would you be my girlfriend?”

“I am already your girlfriend, Sherlock.” (Y/N) spoke clamly, unable to contain the giggle that left her lips.

“I’m such a lucky man I’m jealous of myself …” Sherlock cupped her face and started kissing her passionately, like never before. (Y/N) tried to pull away but Sherlock’s grip was tight and it wasn’t until he needed air that he let go off her.

“You’re so drunk!” She giggled.

“And you’re stunning.” Sherlock mumbled, “Delightful, splendid, a Greek muse right in front of me! DATING ME!”

“Sherlock Holmes is a poet when he’s drunk, what are the chances!” Watson spoke from behind, right before he bursted in a dry laughter. Mrs. Hudson laughed with him and then both women dragged them upstairs.

Keep reading

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”

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.

Keep reading

Sleeping beauty au where John does not wake up in a kiss or anything. So prince Sherlock is like the hell I will l kill myself. But then Irene the century old witch walks in and is like. Hold on I know this shit from another story and then moans loudly near his ear and John wakes the fuck up screaming “WHAT IS THAT FUCKING NOISE?” No one understands any of the context not even John. Except Irene. Everyone is happy. The end.

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.

Keep reading

Molly: Sherlock, I’m so happy I could kiss you!

Sherlock: *nervous laughter* Umm… Neat!

[Later]

Sherlock: *lying face down on his bed* I can’t believe I said “Neat”, John. “Neat.” Nobody says neat anymore! It’s the goddamn 21st century! It’s not neat to say neat, but I said it anyway because I’m a huge loser!

John: *idly turns book page* Hey, don’t beat yourself up. Everyone gets nervous sometimes. Remember what happened when Mary confessed to me?

Sherlock: Umm, didn’t you thank her?

John: *closes magazine to stare into the distance* I thanked her.

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.”