take my hand sherlock

Sherlock X Reader: Jealousy (nsfw)

My friend helped me write this so, thanks friend

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My favorite moments in BBC Sherlock

*John softly telling Mary he loves her

*Sherlock and Irene uncontrollably giggling together while cracking jokes under their breath.

*Sherlock yelling “Take my hand” to Molly as they run off into the night together

*John getting jealous of Mary’s ex-boyfriend David

*Sherlock’s sexual relationship with Janine

*Sherlock allowing himself to loosen up and dance the night away at John’s wedding reception

*The fact that none of these moments actually exist

Cinderella (Sherlock Imagine)

Title: Cinderella

Pairing: Sherlock x Reader

Word Count: 2250

Request: @supers16 Would you be open to writing an Sherlock x reader? I was toying around with a Cinderella type thing where John drags Sherlock to a masked ball and a Cinderella plot plays out?

A/N: This is the first of 2 parts so let me know if you want me to add you to the tag list so you’ll be notified when it comes out! (Update: Part 2 can be found here!) 


(Shameless plug for my fic Hello Detective, but here’s a link to Chapter 1 if you haven’t started it yet!)

Enjoy! Requests are open but they will take time!

“Lestrade! Where is it?” Sherlock yelled, approaching Lestrade at the home of the latest crime scene.

“I haven’t had a decent case in a month, I hope this is a good one.” He said, walking beside him up the stairs to where he presumed the body was.

“Well, about that…” Lestrade began, cautiously.

“What?” Sherlock stopped, a serious tone to his voice.

“Well, we’ve already solved it…” Lestrade said and Sherlock laughed, then he realized Lestrade was being serious.

“You’re joking. Tell me you’re joking. How the hell could you have solved it? Your text said you’ve never seen anything like this.” Sherlock argued in disbelief.

“Yes, well we hadn’t but I just hired this new detective from Sheffield and they solved it.” He explained as they arrived at the scene of the crime, detectives and forensics milling around.

“Well who the hell is he?” Sherlock asked rudely.

“She.” You corrected, now standing in front of the two. Looking the man up and down, your hands resting on your hips.

“Sherlock Holmes, this is our newest Sergeant, (Y/N) (L/N).” You shook his hand but you could tell he was angry and maybe slightly jealous.

“Nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot about you. Sorry to have wasted your time, I don’t think you’ll be needed here.” You explained, he looked nothing like you pictured him. He was taller, and thinner, with better hair and brighter eyes. Actually he was pretty attractive.

“Is that so? And you’re confident that your conclusion is correct?” He questioned. Ok, attractive, and an asshole.

“Always.” You answered back with the same snap he had given you.

“I see, then you wouldn’t mind walking me through it, just to make sure?” He spoke as if he couldn’t wait to prove you wrong.

“Not at all. Tim Leng, yoga teacher, was found by his flatmate Scott Bevan in the bath, though he didn’t drown.” You pointed to the bath as you walked into the small room, Sherlock following you.

“No? Then what was the cause of death?” Sherlock asked, squinting around the scene.

“Asphyxiation, and the door was locked. He enjoyed long baths, and lighting a few dozen tealights. When we arrived there a damp patch here in front of the door to the balcony. Out there there were a few towels hanging on the dryer.” You explained, pointing to different objects around the room as you talked. You turned and found Sherlock to be much closer to you than you expected.

“Your conclusion?” He asked, as if he was testing you. You gulped nervously before continuing in the most confident voice you could muster.

“It’s a small bathroom with no ventilation. Wet towels are taped around the door frame from the outside - there’s a tiny bit of tape still here. The flames from the candles use up all the air and he slowly suffocates. Just like falling asleep. The wet towels are removed and the murderer contacts the police because he thinks he’s cleverer than us and wants to show off a bit. Which I’m sure you can understand.” You stated, adding what you thought was a clever quip at the end.

“So it was the flatmate, Bevan.” He asked and you nodded, he turned around and puffed angrily.

“Well?” Lestrade asked, waiting to see if his new Sergeant really was as clever as Sherlock.

“She’s right.” Sherlock said, disappointed.

“Thank you, Mr. Holmes, but I don’t need your approval.” You smiled, a confident air about you now.

“You’re very sure of yourself, some might call it arrogant.” Sherlock turned back to you, stepping towards you.

“A term you’re used to hearing I’m sure.” You retorted, stepping towards him, ready to go.

“I’m sorry?” He asked, offended.

“You heard me.” You stood your ground.

“You think because you’ve solved one murder, suddenly you’re as good as me?” Sherlock asked, stepping closer, trying to intimidate you.

“This isn’t my first murder and I’ve always been as good as you. You’re just threatened because suddenly you’re not the only logical one in the room. I hope it doesn’t bruise your ego too much.” You spoke walking past him, and he nearly growled.

“I don’t like her.” Sherlock muttered after you had left.

“You sure that feeling isn’t admiration?” Lestrade smirked.

“I think loathing is more like it.” Sherlock said.

“Jealousy maybe?” Lestrade laughed. “Sherlock’s finally met his match.”

“Stop.” Sherlock urged.

“But seriously Sherlock, she’s good and fits in here. We need her, please don’t scare her off.” Lestrade said, a serious tone returning to his voice.

“Trust me, I’ll be avoiding her as much as possible.” He said, following Lestrade back down the stairs of the flat.

“Don’t speak too soon, you two would make a great team. If your true goal is helping people and not showing off, that is.” Lestrade said, to which Sherlock rolled his eyes.

Once in the cab Sherlock texted John, letting him know that his plans had changed and now he could in fact babysit Rosie for the night while John and Mary have dinner.

“Thanks for taking care of Rosie, mate. Sorry about your case.” John said when he came to pick up Rosie around 11:00.

“Ugh, there will be other cases, I’ll just have to beat her to it.” Sherlock sunk into his chair, steepling his fingers and resting them on his lips.

“So she’s good? Like you?” Mary asked, his eyes were closed but he knew she donned a smirk.

“No one’s like me… but yes she’s good. Annoyingly so.” John laughed and shared a look with Mary.

“What’s this?” Mary asked, picking up a fancy looking invitation from his desk. Sherlock’s eyes popped open to see what she was inquiring about.

“Nothing. Mycroft has to attend one of those gala events and wants me to suffer as his plus one.” Sherlock waved it off.

“You’re going right?” John asked, authoritatively.  

“Absolutely not! Why would I, there will be people there.” Sherlock whinned.

“You should go! Get out of the house, you need it.” Mary urged him.

“Why?” Sherlock asked, annoyed.

“Because then you can embarrass Mycroft in front of all his colleagues or whatever you two do to get ahead in your little childish feud. I don’t know mate, but you need to get out of the house. Before you resort to old habits.” John scolded.

“Who knows, you might even meet someone.” Mary added, trying to be positive.

“Oh, Christ. If I go will you two stop!” Sherlock shouted, oh how he craved a cigarette right now.

“Yes.” They both agreed.

“Fine! Now go, go.” He shooed them out the door.

“Bye, Sherlock!” Mary said gleefully, waving with one hand, Rosie in the other.

Standing in front a mirror in Mycroft’s study Sherlock straightened the bow tie he was made to wear. He picked up his porcelain mask that covered half of his face, and was surprisingly light weight.

“Now remember tonight I need you to be civil, dance with everyone, don’t embarrass me.” Mycroft instructed once they had arrived at Buckingham Palace. Sherlock rolled his eyes and left to circle the room.

His eyes landed on you almost immediately. You were smiling and chatting with Prince Harry as he handed you a drink. You were beautiful and excited him, a mysterious air about you. He saw Harry laughing and you smirked. You patted his arm gently as you left him to speak to someone else. It was like his attention was dragged to you and he couldn’t pull it away.

Sherlock tried to listen to Mycroft and mindlessly danced with women he had no intention of knowing, his eyes still focused on you. Trying to form an opinion of you. He couldn’t tell if you were a golddigger, genuine, or a complete fraud. He was curious and had to know.

“Care to dance.” He approached you, his request coming off very placid and stiff.

“Don’t you seem enthused.” You said sarcastically, smirking, accepting anyway and taking his hand.

“Apparently it’s my duty to dance with everyone here tonight.” Sherlock informed you, you could feel his eyes rolling.

“Says who?” You asked, genuinely.

“My brother.” He answered and you laughed.

“Screw him. Do what you want.” You told him, and he was taken aback.

“Well you’re proving to be a much more interesting partner than I anticipated.” He let slip.

“I think there was a compliment in there somewhere.” You smirked.

“You know, you’re actually not a bad dancer.” He observed, glancing down at your feet.

“I’d say the same, but…” You joked and he looked offended.

“I’m kidding!” You patted his chest playfully, “Seriously though, I’m just trying to keep up with you.”

“Well don’t tell anyone but I actually do love to dance.” He confessed.  

“Your secrets safe with me.” You smiled earnestly.

“You look familiar, have we met?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.

”I’m not sure you’re supposed to ask that at a masked gala.” You smiled sincerely, the air of mystery around you growing thicker and exciting your partner more. “I love your mask by the way, it’s very Phantom of the Opera.”

“Well it wasn’t my pick but thank you, your’s is quite nice as well.” He smiled, admiring it.

“Thank you, though it wasn’t my pick either.” You smiled.

“No? Then who’s?” He asked curiously.

“That would be His Royal Highness.” You rolled your eyes.

“You seem to have made quite an impression on Prince Harry, how do you two know each other?” He asked, being nosy.

“We met at school, I used to tutor him. Just between us two, he might not have graduated with the honors he did without my help and his last name.” You said, he laughed.

“Care for a drink?” You asked as the song ended.

“I just hate coming to these things, don’t you?” You asked the man who had followed you to the bar.

“And why’s that?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. He had been eyeing you all night, not knowing who you were but assuming you were the same as everyone else in the room. He was sorely mistaken.

“Spending the whole evening rubbing elbows with the rich and well educated, when in reality they’re probably the daftest people you’ll ever meet.” She smirked to him and he laughed.

“They can’t all be daft, can they?” He returned the smirk.

“Oh they are, would you like me to prove it?” You asked confidently.

“Be my guest.” He motioned forward to the room.

“See the woman dancing with the Prime Minister over there?” You pointed with you finger around your drink. He nodded.

“Her husband is the Minister for Trade,” you pointed to the other side of the room where he stood,”In fact, before marrying him, she dated four different members of Parliament. At the same time. Though not a one found out about the others. And they’re all here tonight. Smart woman? Daft men? You choose, but I favor the latter, I mean just look at her. Now that takes care of six of them in the room, shall I continue? Let’s move to this side of the room. Ah, the Harrison brothers. The youngest is embezzling millions from the family business, but the eldest is sleeping with the youngests wife, so all’s square I suppose. No one else in the family knows about either account, nor suspects a thing. Fifteen people here tonight related to the family: oblivious. And it’s clear as day. I guess you just never know what’s going on right under your nose, do you? Well that takes care of half the room. Believe me yet?”

“Oh, I never doubted you. Actually I feel quite the same. You know a lot of people here.” He observed.

“Everyone knows a lot of people here, their names are in the paper nearly everyday, but they don’t matter.” You said.

“They don’t?” He asked, suspiciously.

“No, you see it’s the ones that you don’t know in the room that really hold the power. Like him,” you pointed to a man near the dessert table, “Whoever he is, he must be important. Not only due to the fact that he’s here, but that he’s not wasting his time kissing ass and sucking up. See the way everyone’s glancing at him, they’re terrified. Isn’t fear the newest form of power?”

“What makes him so vapid?” Sherlock asked with a smirk.

“Hmm, let me go ask. I need to do some research before confirming my hypothesis.” You began to walk away towards the man you were speaking about.

“Which is?” He asked, and you spun as you walked away from him, a smirk on your face, you winked, spun forward and continued walked towards your target.

“Hello.” You greeted with a fake smile.

“Ah, good evening. I don’t believe we’ve met.” He smiled, being fake polite.

“No, I don’t think we have.” You shook his hand.

“Mycroft Holmes, pleased to meet you. I see you’ve met my brother.” He nodded towards your companion at the bar.

“Your brother?” You asked, surprised, turning back to glance at him with a shocked face. That would mean he’s…

“Sherlock Holmes–” He said, and must have continued speaking but you had tuned him out. Your sworn enemy had been the one you’d been eyeing all night, the one you’d danced with and spoken with. The one you’d flirted with and he’d flirted back. You dare say you’ve even started to fall for him.

Part 2

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“Take my hand,” he commands, softly… softly, so that Sherlock doesn’t bolt.

“People will—“

“Fine.” John closes the gap between them, slipping warm fingers through his partner’s clammy ones, squeezing gently. “Good, actually.”

anonymous asked:

heyy, i wondered if you would like to write a sherlock x reader imagine based on the song "fix you" by coldplay? maybe the boyfriend of the reader broke up with her and sherlock tries to comfort her. some days later he admits his feelings for her and tells her that her ex didn't deserve her and that she deserves someone better and yeahh i know the song is sad but i thought of a lot of flufff btw i love all ur works, you're amazing! <3

Hey love,

You also submitted the ask as a not anonymous, but I will just do it as the Anonymous, in case you wanted to stay this way. And thank you for the kind words.

Name: I will try to fix you
The song is HERE

“Y/N?” Sherlock runs into you in their kitchen and stops, surprised to see you at their place - especially with your eyes red. “You cried.”

“And you are a professional detective?” you snap, and he sits down by your side, leaving the empty cup on the floor. You prefer not to think about what could have been inside.

“He broke up with you,” Sherlock states and explains, before you can ask how he knew. “You are upset. It means that either you made him leave, or he broke up with you. And if you made him leave, you wouldn’t be here.”

“And why so?”

“Because you would be busy at home, trying to get rid of his stuff and not managing to let go,” Sherlock answers simply, then carefully strokes your shoulder. “I am sorry, Y/N.”

“Come on, no need to pretend that you care,” you sniff, and Sherlock gently wipes your tears with his sleeve.

“Of course, I care,” he wraps his hands around you and pulls you in a warm hug, so you press your face against his robe. It smells like burnt paper and grass, and it also is very soft - so soft, you can’t help but cry in it. Sherlock sighs and strokes your back, listening to you ramble about something he probably can’t hear, so just nods and keeps holding you so close, his curly hair gets in your eyes. “You will be alright, Y/N.”

“How do you know?”

“I am a detective. I read people,” you grin, as he chuckles and lets go of you. “And you need is a hot shower and coffee. I will do the second, while you take the shower.”

“Coffee? No eyes inside?”

“I will do my best,” he smiles softly, showing exceptional understanding of what you need after a break-up. “So hurry up.”

You spent the following week at Sherlock’s place; fortunately, John was away for a month, and you could take his bed. Every morning you helped Sherlock with his work (basically, stopping him from yelling at the stupid people), and he paid you back by trying to be softer with you. Sometimes it worked.

“Hey,” Sherlock hands you a cup of tea and sits by your side. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” you shrug your shoulders.

“I wanted to say,” he softly touches your shoulder. “He didn’t deserve you.”

“You keep saying that, and someone may believe you that I actually deserve something good in my life,” Sherlock frowns.

“Y/N,” he inhales slowly, taking your hand and looking you in the eye. “Y/N, I would like for you to know… I like you.”

“I like you too, Sherlock, but that does not mean I can be someone else’s romantic interest,” he rolls his eyes. “What?”

“Do not be stupid, Y/N,” he grabs your shoulder and pulls you close, so you can see the sparks in his eyes. “I like you.”

“Like… Like like me?” he nods quickly, his curls shaking funnily. “Why?”

“I simply want to try to fix you… and give you home, and just make sure that you are happy, and don’t cry in the night because I can hear that, and it is very annoying,” Sherlock rambles about how much he hates to see you sad.

“Sherlock,” you stop him finally. “Sherlock, stop,” he looks away, obviously ashamed of letting his feelings take the best of him. “Yes, I will date you.”


“I like you too, Sherlock,” you explain quietly, and he shines a smile at you. “You can be very sweet when you want to be.”

“I know, John told me I should be softer,” Sherlock admits, slowly pulling you closer and sliding his palm up your arm and shoulder to gently take your face. “I just want to see you smile again.”

“Yes, sir,” you can’t help but smile at him, but the effect is rather obvious - Sherlock murmurs something about you being so hard to understand and pulls you in a soft kiss, wrapping both hands around your shoulders and not letting go of you until you both are out of air.

anonymous asked:

Prompt: John takes Sherlock to a military ball and all the other male soldiers are fawning over Sherlock causing John to get jealous.

“Sherlock, are you ready? We’re going to be late!” John stood by the door, holding on to Sherlock’s coat. He came out of the bedroom, his hair perfectly messy, though John knew he had spent quite a bit of time on it. He smiled as Sherlock walked up to him, giving him a kiss. “You look very handsome.”
“Mm.” Sherlock looked John up and down, a hunger in his eyes. “You should wear your uniform more often.”
“Hush. We’re going to be late, put on your damn coat.” He laughed, turning for the stairs. Sherlock suddenly grabbed John from behind and pulled him close, kissing his neck.
“We can be a little late…”
“N-No…mmm Sherlock…” John gasped as Sherlock pulled at John’s ear with his teeth. “Fucking-Sherlock! We have to go!” He playfully pushed him away and kissed him one more time before they went to hail a cab. 


The ball was dreadfully dull from the moment they walked in, or so Sherlock thought but he knew how important it was to John so he tried to suffer silently through it. John got him a drink hoping he would relax a bit and was completely surprised when John took his hand. There were times that they did not display their relationship, especially in professional settings but John held on to Sherlock’s hand as if they were strolling through a park.

“Watson!” A man called out from behind them.
John turned and grinned. “Harris!” John let go of Sherlock’s hand much to Sherlock’s disdain and quickly hugged the new man. Sherlock glared from behind his glass, John seeming to feel his irritation and taking his hand again. “This is Sherlock Holmes, my husband.” Harris smiled and held out his hand to shake Sherlock’s who reluctantly extended his own.
“I never thought anyone would hold down Johnny boy here. Pleasure to meet you.”
Sherlock tried to repress his scowl, “I’m not holding him-”
“Is that John Watson?” A group of five men approached, all greeting John happily. One of them looked over at Sherlock and smirked, “And who is this?”
“Sherlock Holmes.” He held out his hand, already tired of this event.
“The husband?” The man looked over at John who nodded with a grin. “My, my. You weren’t exaggerating. He is gorgeous.” Sherlock looked startled and ready to retort but John cut in with a laugh, grasping his hand tightly.
“Let me get him something to eat, I’ll catch up with you in a bit.” John pulled a huffing Sherlock away from the crowd.
“I’m not hungry-“
“Too bad.” John grabbed a plate and put a few appetisers on a plate before dragging Sherlock to a quiet balcony. “Eat.” He handed the plate over and Sherlock stubbornly ate as slowly as he could. “I know you hate these kind of events but I really do appreciate you being here with me.” John moved closer to brush back his hair.
“You can make it up to me later.” Sherlock smirked at him.
John swatted at him and laughed, “You’ve been thinking about that all night, haven’t you?”
“I can’t help it. I like a man in uniform.”

Beautiful Chaos

Decided to write a scene inspired by @simplyshelbs16xoxo​‘s suggested title prompt! Established Sherlolly some time after TFP…Enjoy!

“What’s it like in there?” Molly asked as Sherlock sat up from his reclined position on the couch. He’d been organizing details from his latest case in his mind palace when she arrived with their takeaway.

“In my mind palace?” Sherlock chuckled, taking the plate she handed him.

“Mmhm!” Molly nodded, seating herself beside him on the couch. “You spend a lot of time in there. What does it look like? Where do you go?”

Sherlock smiled. “Depends on the subject matter I’m storing information on. Why do you want to know?”

“Just curious, I guess.” Molly shrugged. “It’s a place that only you get to experience. It is uniquely you. I like learning new things about you.”

Sherlock considered this and set down his plate.

“I suppose I could give you a tour of sorts,” he offered.

“Really?” Molly asked, surprised.

“Well, it wouldn’t be my entire mind palace, but I store a fair amount of information around the flat. That is the, um, visualized version of the flat in my head,” Sherlock explained.

“Alright.” Molly set her plate aside.

“Right.” Sherlock stood up and paced about the room, considering where to start.

“Well, there’s this wall for starters,” he began, gesturing to the wall behind her.

Molly turned to look up at the yellow spray-painted smiley face above her.

“When I’m working on a case, I keep relevant information stored in various points of the wall paper. It’s a convenient place to lay everything out so to speak, although it can get cluttered during some of my more in depth cases, which is when I usually make use of your flat,” he explained.

Molly nodded. “Ah, so that’s what you meant when you said you needed the space…”

“Right…” Sherlock nodded and looked about the room. “Now the more day to day information, I keep in assorted objects. Music on the wall between the windows—mostly in the scull—Literature and the like goes on the desk. And of course things related to John I mostly keep in his chair.”

Sherlock began to walk around the room, gesturing to each object as he spoke.

Molly smiled as she watched him. “I assume you keep information about me stored in the morgue,” she laughed.

Sherlock paused. “Among other places, yes,” he admitted.

“What other places?” Molly asked curiously.

Sherlock looked about the room nervously. “Everywhere…”

“Come again?” she replied, sure she hadn’t heard him right.

“Molly, you’re everywhere…” Sherlock sighed, bringing himself to look her in the eyes. “Most people I am able to sort out important details and delete the trivial, but with you I could never bring myself to delete anything. Every detail was important…but I was in denial of my feelings for you for so long that I couldn’t bring myself to organize them all, because that would mean I would have to grow up and face the truth… So I would store them anywhere I could. Your favorite song here. The way you like your tea there… There is no one specific ‘Molly drawer’ or ‘Molly room’…you’re everywhere. It’s chaos…glorious, comforting, beautiful chaos…”

Molly stared at him in stunned silence before finally bringing herself to stand, closing the distance between them to wrap her arms about his torso.

“Thank you for sharing that with me,” she breathed, resting her head against his chest.

“Your—your welcome,” he replied, returning the hug.

He placed a kiss to the crown of her hair before resting his cheek against her head.

“You know, in hind sight, it is astounding that it took me so long to fully comprehend how much I love you,” he mused.

“You’ve got that right!” Molly teased. “But I forgive you. You were worth the wait.”

“I sincerely hope so,” Sherlock replied with a smile before bending to meet her lips.

Please come back to me; Sherlock x teen reader

This was the first BBC Sherlock request I got from Wattpad and it revolved around the heartbreaking season finale of series 2, I apologize in advance for any heartbreak I may cause to people who read this also I apologize for the gif chosen. Be warned of swearing, Sherlock’s suicide and use of guns. Other than that I hope you all enjoy this fic.

Originally posted by theildam-l


This just wasn’t right. It couldn’t be true, Jim Moriarty a fake. A figure created by Sherlock. No I couldn’t believe it to be true and I’m just as clever as Sherlock himself, that’s why he took me in when I was only 7 years old so I know every move that Sherlock would make even before he made it and I never expected this cause it couldn’t be true. I sat there with John and he said.

 "You don’t believe this do you?“

"If I did then I’d be with him every step of the way, he couldn’t have done all of this for a publicity act or even boredom and I know what he does whenever Sherlock gets bored”.

“As do I, but….This—this is…..”

“I know, this is complete and utter shit. And it’s only a matter of time before they start exploiting my true story out”. I crossed my hands over my chest and sighed heavily.

“If they even dare try that I’ll protect you, you know that right?”

“Yeah cause Sherlock entrusted you to be my godfather should anything hap—oh god”.

“What, what is it?” John said.

“We gotta get to Baker Street, now!” I rushed out of the police station with John on my tail and we hauled a taxi and I told him to get to Baker Street as fast as possible. Once we got there we rushed inside to see Mrs. Hudson standing next to a man who was doing some repairs and when we got to her side she jumped at our sudden appearance and she said.

“Oh John, (y/n) you both made me jump. Is everything alright? Has Sherlock sorted everything out with the police?” Both our hearts dropped as we muttered.

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