#mycroft x fem!reader

[lazydoodlesandfanfic]

Answer The Phone (Mycroft X Daughter!Reader) *PARENTAL

Characters: Mycroft X Daughter!Reader, Sherlock X Niece!Reader

Universe: Sherlock

Warnings: mentions of being drugged via gas (fun story, this happened to me once lol), bomb, explosion, burns, unhealthy relationship with parent

Request: Hello could you do mycroft x daughter reader. Final problem the two have really broken father and daughter relationship and they haven't express themselves and because of it sherlock is kinda the father figure of the reader. So instead of Sherlock doing the phonecall its the mycroft who did the phonecall and reader almost said 'I love you ' to mycroft but its time up and mycrift witness the explosion in reader apartment and the Holmes are broken as they heard the shrill scream coming from the reader. Its up to you if you wanna turn out to let reader died. 😊

It had been a long time since you had actually gotten along with your dad. A long time since tensions weren’t running high when in his presence, well aware that things were one thoughtless comment away from a bicker or an argument. Whether it was wanting something from one another- more affection from him, or a more agreeable personality from you- or just not agreeing on things in general. He often commented on how you were more like your uncle Sherlock, even when you were young. Back then you took it as a compliment, seeing your uncle as a genius who adored you and was by far the funnest uncle in the world, but in your pre-teens you realised he meant it as an insult.

You could never forgive him for doing that, even if he didn’t mean it, or didn’t even realise what he was saying. Everytime he said it, it made you pull away from him even more. Spend more time with the man he compared you to, the only person who seemed to actually care about you. Of course, that was until you met Mrs Hudson and then John moved in with Sherlock. Mrs Hudson kept you company when your uncle was busy and you were avoiding your dad, and she’d softly poke into your home life and your relationship with your dad and try and give advice. John thought you were Sherlock’s assistant for a short while before Sherlock corrected him, acting insulted that he thought you were ‘just an assistant’. When he met Mycroft, he immediately began to understand why you weren’t close, and tried to be a responsible adult you could turn to. In the end, when you became a legal adult, you moved to an apartment much, much closer to Sherlock than your dad, and never in the 3 years you’d had it, had your dad stepped foot inside of it. He wasn’t allowed to. 

You had a lot of feelings towards your dad from childhood to now. Anger, resentment, distrust. A disconnect you never thought and come to accept could ever be fixed. Whenever you needed support, you went to Sherlock. John. Mrs Hudson. Never him. But this time was different. 

You were currently trapped in the said apartment. The one place you were supposed to feel safe no matter what, yet here you were, eyes focussed on the bomb that had been planted in the middle of your living room, the heart of your apartment, with several wires linking to it all across the apartment like spiderwebs. Linked to every possible escape route- the windows, the fire escape, and the only door in and out. You didn’t remember what had happened- you vaguely remember an odd smell as you wet to sleep last night, and when you awoke, you found yourself laying on the floor of your living room, and sitting up and seeing the device. Whoever had done this, had been nice enough to leave your phone right beside the bomb. You didn’t call anyone or even turn the phone on for several hours, scared that it had been tampered with as well and that was also a trigger, but you grew desperate. The first person you tried to call was your dad. You didn’t get through, so then you called Sherlock, and he picked up almost immediately, and you told him what was going on. 

That was about two hours ago now. The police cars littered the streets outside, the complex and surrounding buildings completely evacuated. It was just you and this bomb within a 50 foot radius. Well, for a period of time, both Sherlock and John were on the other side of the door, asking you a billion and one questions about what you could see, and you described everything to the best of your abilities, and it was useful. One, Sherlock was able to piece together it was well made, and whoever made this was an expert and had experience with this- probably a military man, working in a bomb squad or something, and that this was purely explosive, no nails or anything to cause more damage, and due the size, the blast wouldn’t go far past the walls of your home. However, after demanding his honesty, he admitted he also had no clue how to diffuse it, or if that was even possible. It seemed too fragile, that even a light breeze could set it off. That solidified your decision to remain perfectly still within two of the wires attached to your windows, too scared to even touch the glass or move to quickly, remembering his comment on a breeze, and didn’t want to risk vibration. 

You still hadn’t been able to reach your dad. 

“John?” You had asked over the phone. The phone was often being in call between people, mostly Sherlock and John, though Mrs Hudson had called when neither were available to try and keep you calm. It was John’s turn as Sherlock was following leads. 

“Yeah? Is something happening?” John asked. 

“No it’s just… I can’t reach my dad. I keep trying to call him but he won’t pick up… I… I just want to hear his voice.” You admitted. It sounded ridiculous, childish, but you were tired, hungry, and the adrenaline had drained your energy a while ago now. “Does he know what’s happening?” You asked. He was silent on his side for a minute. 

“I don’t know, but I tell you what, I’m going to personally find him, and drag him here, and make him answer his phone, okay?” He promised, and you could hear the anger oozing over the phone, which you couldn’t help but smile at. “In the meantime, I think Sherlock is going to call you later, I think he’s onto something. Hang on, alright?” He said, before handing up. You placed the phone on the floor, carefully standing up, and with distance between yourself and the window, you peered out of it, able to see John as he dashed off towards Lestrade, telling him something, before the pair got into a car and took off presumably to go and find your dad. Looking around more, you spotted Mrs Hudson peering up. She waved when she saw you, and you waved back. With nothing else to do, you sat back down in front of the bomb, trying to examine it to the best of your ability, seeing nothing of importance, before you laid down on the floor, closing your eyes, and waiting.

You flinched when your phone rang. You flinched every time it rang, even if someone had told you just a minute prior it was coming. You reached over, picking it up and placing it to your ear, remembering what John had said. “Sherlock?” You asked. 

“How many pieces of furniture in your flat can you crawl under?” His question was far from reassuring, as you bolted up, on high alert. 

“U-Um, I don’t know, why? Do I need to hide? Take cover? What’s going on?” You panicked. 

“The wiring to the bomb is far too fragile for someone to be able to rig it from the outside after escaping. They must have either found or made another way inside, somewhere where you wouldn’t have noticed. If we can find it you can get out yourself, or we can get inside. Think. Lay on the floor and look around for anything, furniture that you can get under, or furniture light enough but large enough to cover an escape but be able to move from below. Be. Careful. Watch the wires. Call me back if you find anything, I’m on my way back.” He said before hanging up, leaving you alone with silence and overwhelming pressure. You looked at the wires around you, before trying to think of the best places for someone to hide a hatch- under the coffee table, the recliner that you knew was easy to move, your wardrobe in your room which had some crawl space underneath, and for you, the most creepy- under your bed. You quickly checked under your coffee table in front of you, of course finding nothing, because of course that would be too easy. Your recliner was across from you, so after a deep breath, you got down on the ground, and carefully crawled under the wires, spotting a wire that was too low to crawl under, and you stood and carefully stepped over it. You then carefully moved your recliner, checking underneath, and found nothing. That left your bedroom. 

Your phone rang again, and your cursed yourself, realising you left it beside the table, and you hurriedly but carefully moved back, grabbing it and answering it. “Hello? Sherlock?” 

“Y/N?” Your dad’s voice caught you off guard, and you gasped in surprised. “What’s going on? John told me to call you and said it was dire.” He asked. A relief came over you just from hearing his voice, your eyes burning as you sniffed. 

“Dad… it’s bad.” You started, getting silence on the phone. “There’s… someone put some sort of sedative gas into my flat when I went to bed and broke in- they moved me into the living room and- there’s a bomb. There’s a bomb in the living room and it’s wired up to every escape and I can’t get out and I’m scared and I don’t want to die-” You rambled to him before you heard him finally repeating your name to try and interrupt you. 

“Y/N, Y/N, breathe. Is Sherlock working on it?” He asked, that last sentence sound a little distance, and you faintly heard John confirm in the background, before he returned to the phone. “Alright. Sherlock’s working on it. What has he told you?” 

“He um… He said that he thinks there’s a secret entrance somewhere- and that’s how the person who did this escaped after rigging everything. He told me to look for it- I’m going to check in my bedroom next.” You explained to him, looking over, being relieved when you saw no wire attached to the door. 

“Is that door rigged?” 

“No. Hold on, I have to crawl under the wires.” You explained, getting back down, crawling under the wires, before reaching it the door, and holding the phone to your ear. “Okay, I’m at the door.”

“Do you feel like a secret agent?” He asked, catching you off guard. 

“What?” You asked, pausing in your plan. 

“Crawling under and over the wires. It’s like the laser lights and those agents avoiding them. You used to love those movies when you were little. You thought that was what Sherlock did in his cases.” He reminisced. A faint smile met your lips. You’d totally forgotten about that. 

“Yeah… I remember one time when I pulled out all the red thread from a jumper you had gotten me, pinning it all over the house so I could pretend to be a secret agent and then using it to make an information board… you were so mad when you came back home because the jumper was some expensive brand and I’d made the board on a wall and wrote on it and everything… sorry about that.” You told him, somehow finding the energy to chuckle pathetically. 

“Don’t apologise.” Mycroft told you. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. You were 6, you were just being a child.” He pointed out. “I’m… I’m also sorry that I didn’t answer your calls. I should have known something was wrong when you kept trying to reach me.” He apologised. You hummed, before you realised something. 

“This is the first time we’ve been able to actually talk without bickering or arguing in years.” You pointed out. You heard him sigh. 

“When this whole mess is over, I promise you we’re going to have a proper family dinner, catch up, and actually talk. No bickering. No arguing. A genuine conversation. How does that sound?” He asked. You smiled to yourself. This was the best thing that had happened all day, not like that was hard. 

“Yeah. Let’s hope the escape is in my room.” You said, remembering your task. You reached out, grabbing the handle of your bedroom door, and opening it, and pulling the door open. “Hey, you know, despite not really getting along my whole life, I want you to know that I do love-” You looked up to search your room, but the sound of a beep made your eyes focus on the bomb attached to your bedframe, this one a lot bigger, that was rigged to your bedroom door, that you had just set off.

Mycroft heard you gasp, the sound of you running, hearing you muttering repeatedly ‘no, no, no, no”, the sound of you trying to open a door before the call ended. “Y/N?” Mycroft asked. He heard nothing. He tried calling you back, and it didn’t even ring. He got an awful feeling in his stomach and he wanted to be sick, but he looked up at John who looked confused at what was happening, having not heard what he’d heard. “Get me to her flat right now.” 

By the time the pair arrived on your street, it was already blocked off and there was more than one firetruck trying to subdue the fire that was blazing where your flat used to be. Mycroft didn’t speak as he approached, seeing the sight, realising what it was exactly that he heard. He heard his daughter realise she triggered an explosive. He heard his daughter run across the one place she was meant to be safe to the front door. He heard his daughter try and open the door, and realise it was locked and she was trapped inside.

He heard his daughter die, terrified and alone. And for what? Why? Why not him, or Sherlock? He wanted to be angry, demand answers, find who did this and get revenge even if it isn’t lawful, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t find it in himself to be angry right now. Only guilty. He should have spent more time with you. He should have tried harder to be a better parent to you, he should have been kinder, more understanding. He should have been there. 

“John! Mycroft!” Mycroft didn’t hear Mrs Hudson at first as she dashed over as quick as she could- she was sobbing and sniffling, clutching a handkerchief to her face as she approached. 

“Mrs Hudson, what happened?!” John asked alarmed and out of breath. 

“There was a second bomb in the bedroom, when she opened the door it set it off.” She explained. Mycroft finally looked away from the blaze to look at the woman. The call had ended only 20 minutes or so prior, and since the flat was still in fire, so there was no way to examine the scene. 

“How do you know that?” He asked her. She didn’t say anything, simply grabbing his arm and pulling him down the street, pass the firetrucks, past the police who looked defeated, and towards an ambulance. The back doors were open, and inside he was able to see two paramedics tending to someone in the bed. He felt his heart leap into his throat as he sprinted to the edge and jumped inside, able to finally see your face, an oxygen mask over your face, burns littering your body, and you were unconscious as a paramedic was placing bandaging on one of your burns. “Is she okay? Is my daughter okay?” He demanded answers, one of the paramedics looking up at him. 

“She’s suffered burns and blunt force trauma from the explosion. She was conscious when she was able to get out, but she fell unconscious, and we need to get her to the hospital now. Please sit down if you’re coming with her.” He instructed, and Mycroft followed and sat down. He turned, seeing John and Mrs Hudson stood, staring at you. 

“Please make sure Sherlock finds out who did this. They need to pay for this.” Mycroft demanded. John nodded firmly, before the doors shut, the sirens turned on and the ambulance began to move. Mycroft put his whole focus on you, making sure your chest moved up and down, looking for any sign of you waking up, and more importantly, any sign you were in pain. He only saw you breathing, and he decided for now he should be thankful for that. He didn’t know what exactly he was going to do, but he knew that somehow, someway, he was going to fix this. He was going to make everything better. He had to.

Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!

*Not my gif

TAGS: @holy-tea-cup-blog @sassy-specter @keenmarvellover @multifandomfix @sleutherclaw @otterly-fey @courtneychicken @graysonmalfoy @bellero @originalpottervengerlock @supernatural-pan @esoltis280 @lady-of-lies @lenaswritingandstuff @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980 @cdwmtjb8 @caswinchester2000 @determinedpines@huntheimpossible @automaticbakeryfreakshoe

[multific]

Destiny

Mycroft Holmes x Reader

Summary: What happens when you fall in love with the IceMan himself? It can never end well, right?

Destiny.

A simple word yet it held so much power.

What does it mean to be destined for something or even, someone?

When you first heard about this word, your grandmother told you how she and your grandfather met.

A true love story.

A story so beautiful it was always in the back of your head as you grew older and older.

You hoped you would have a similar experience in your love life. Finding, the person and falling in love, it all sounded amazing.

You knew you wouldn't be able to force such a thing, you were aware of that. And yet, you were impatient. 

So impatient that in fact, you fall into many traps.

In many ways, you thrived in your life.

Expect your love life.

Your desire for a love like no other made you fall in love with men who were undeserving. 

Until you met Mycroft Holmes.

To say that he was the entire British Government would be an understatement.

You applied for a simple job, to be his assistant.

You spent so much time with him, that you thought you were going insane.

You blamed Stockholm syndrome for your feelings.

The moment you realized your feelings were real was during a very difficult week.

Almost every criminal in London had an agenda to mess with him. This caused you to do so much overtime, that you didn't even leave the office.

It was during the fourth day when Mycroft showed up with a bouquet. 

"I thought you would be home," he said, clearly he wasn't prepared to have you right there, at your desk. "Usually you arrive at 6:46 because you stop by at the nearby bakery for breakfast and coffee." 

So, he did pay attention to you. After he spent all that time to make sure you are aware that he simply doesn't care for people like you.

"I stayed to finish the file on this. I-"

"Did you eat?"

"No, Sir." he made a face at that and took his phone out of his pocket.

"Delivery will be here in 10 minutes. Eat, drink your coffee and then come speak with me. I'll be in my office."

He ordered exactly just what you wanted with the most perfect coffee you ever had.

He paid attention to you.

And you realized your feelings for him were real.

You knew hiding it from him would be impossible. Mycroft was incredibly smart. He would notice.

But little did you know, he felt the same.

He thought you would notice his feelings and confront him about it. 

He wasn't ready for a rejection.

Yet, your rejection never came.

Not when he asked you out to dinner. Not when he brought you another bouquet.

Not when he kissed you.

Instead, he let you guide him.

Love wasn't new to him. He loved his siblings, and his parents but this kind of love is very different. 

He didn't have experience with this kind of love, and it scared him a little.

But he also didn't reject it.

He embraced it.

And soon, a beautiful diamond ring found its rightful place on your finger.

It might have not been the way you wanted your one and true love.

But it was your destiny.

And you were okay with it.

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @il0vebeingdelulu @deliciousfestsalad @groovyqueer @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[megs-mostly-past-random-fandoms]

Burst of Color

Based on this request: Oh! Could we get a Mycroft Soulmate AU (fem!reader) but like Enemies-to-Lovers style? Soulmate Trope of first touch, world burst into color kind of thing?

Here you are! I apologize for the wait! *Familiar characters are NEVER mine!*

Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)

Warnings: Soulmate AU, Enemies-to-Lovers, Trapped Together, Angsty, slight fluff?

Pairings/Characters: Mycroft Holmes x fem!reader, Sherlock Holmes, John Watson.

Mycroft Holmes was cynical about quite a bit in life, but none so much as the idea of soulmates. The fact that one solitary touch could bind you to someone forever was utterly ridiculous. The idea of being so…enamored with someone simply because fate decided to put two people together was merely another waste of time by Mycroft's thinking. And what if that one person happens to be someone you cannot stand? Such as Mycroft and you.

          It wasn't that Mycroft hated you, exactly. He wouldn't waste time on such a thing. But the two of you often got on like oil and water. Two clashing personalities. You were merely another goldfish in a large school of them and Mycroft knew for a fact that you found him quite a "pompous arse". Those had been your exact words to him. If debating with you didn't thrill him so much, Mycroft would never interact with you at all. At least that's what he told himself until the day Sherlock requested his help with a case. And yours.

          "Why did I agree to this again?" you asked when Sherlock escorted both you and Mycroft to the crime scene. Or what he told you was a crime scene. "You agreed due to your insatiable curiosity, Y/N," Sherlock replied to your grumbled question. You rolled your eyes as Mycroft let you enter the room after Sherlock. "And because you didn't tell me your brother would be here," you muttered to Sherlock when you caught up to him. Sherlock didn't reply, instead choosing to head into another small room.

          Just outside the door, Sherlock stopped and gestured for you and Mycroft to enter first. "Sherlock, what is this?" Mycroft asked, testily. The older Holmes' answer came in the form of the door closing and locking behind you. You raced forward and tried the door. "Sherlock? Open the door!" you growled out. "I don't believe I will," came Sherlock's annoyingly smooth voice from the other side. You turned and gestured to Mycroft as if to say, "Will you do something about this?"

          "I'm afraid there is no reasoning with Sherlock once he's set his mind to something." You groaned a bit and mumbled something under your breath. Mycroft took notice of your body language. Contrary to how you were speaking, you weren't angry. Mycroft could tell. In fact, you seemed almost…nervous.

          "Any idea as to why your brother locked us in here?" you asked after a moment. Mycroft paused to think, only for another voice to float through the door. "We're tired of the two of you whingeing about one another! So you'll be locked until you can speak to each other without fighting or complaining."

          "Quite a brilliant idea from Watson, truly," Sherlock added to Watson's order. You took a deep breath and looked ready to ram the door down if necessary. "No need to be dramatic, Y/N," Mycroft said smoothly as he adjusted this tie.  You glared at him but opted to stay quiet this time. Instead, you took to pacing the room as your mind tried to work out a way to escape your current prison with the elder Holmes brother. Mycroft watched your grey form walk back and forth across the floor, your brows furrowed in concentration. It was actually quite adorable.

          "Do believe your incessant pacing will free us?" he asked, earning another glare from you. You stopped in front of him with your hands on your hips. "I don't see you doing anything to help," you retorted. Mycroft merely scoffed. "Sherlock and Doctor Watson will eventually grow tired of their game and will open the door. All we need to do is bide our time."

          For some reason, Mycroft's words seemed to anger you further. "Can you stop being so damn calm and calculated for once?! Show a little emotion, Mycroft. Your own brother is playing games with you. You can't tell me that doesn't annoy you at least a little." Mycroft let out a little laugh.

          "My dear, I am always annoyed with Sherlock in one way or another. You simply grow used to his antics and learn that it is best to let some things lie." You shook your head and turned to begin pacing yet again. "I just don't understand you Holmes men. I mean, really how-" Your sentence was cut short by you tripping over your own two feet. As if on instinct, Mycroft's arm shot out so he could grab you before your face could hit the floor. The moment his hand made contact, however, he nearly let you fall anyway.

          Where the world had been varying shades of grey before, it was now filled with colors so brilliant and vibrant, Mycroft almost needed to close his eyes against them. After a split second, he glanced down at you to find your eyes screwed shut like you were still anticipating your body landing on the floor.

          "Open your eyes," Mycroft ordered softly. You did and gasped when, Mycroft assumed, you saw your world was now in color too. Mycroft helped you to you to stand up straight. You let your eyes wander the room for a moment before they landed on Mycroft yet again. The two of you stared at one another for what felt like hours, just taking everything in.

          "This is…quite unexpected," Mycroft finally managed to say. You laughed softly. "That's a understatement. Of all the people, I never would have guessed you would be my soulmate. After all, I'm simply a goldfish, right?" Mycroft sighed, wishing he had cigarette right then and there.  "My dear Y/N…" You shook your head and stepped further away from him. "No. You hate me. I hate you. That dynamic works for us. It always has. This-This," you cut off with a sigh as tears formed in your eyes. "It's wrong," you managed to say after a moment.

          "And yet, it seems, it is true. You and I are soulmates," Mycroft finished your thought. You rolled your eyes. "You don't do attachment or sentiment, Mycroft. I crave it." You moved to try the door again. You needed to get out of there before you really did begin crying in front of Mycroft.

          "Y/N, have you ever taken a moment to consider that, perhaps, I have hidden the depths of my own emotions to shield myself from those around me that may hurt me? Contrary to your beliefs, I do in fact feel very deeply and while we do not often get along, I do not hate you. Knowing what I now do, I imagine it might well be impossible for me to do so."

          "But could you love me? Even platonically? I mean, really love me despite all my flaws?" you questioned intently. When Mycroft didn't answer, you nodded to yourself before approaching the door again. "Think about it, Mycroft. Take time and really think about what your heart is capable of when it comes to me. I'll do the same then we'll speak again."

          Mycroft watched as you knocked on the door again. "Sherlock. Please," you pleaded just loudly enough for the younger Holmes to hear. "I can." You froze at Mycroft's soft words, "I can love you. I am not an easy man to get along with, let alone to love, but you make me feel things I did not think possible. I fooled myself into believing that I didn’t want or need a soulmate. But I confess my life would be rather dull and lifeless without you in it."          

For a moment, you stayed silent. Then, a ghost of a smile appeared on your lips. "Thank you, Mycroft. I-I suppose there are worse people I could have as my soulmate. Sherlock comes to mind." Mycroft tried not to smile. Really he did, but he couldn't stop the soft chuckle that escaped his lips.

(a/n: I hope you like it! I'm a sucker for a Soulmate AU with as many tropes shoved in that makes sense as possible.)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @supernatural4life2022

Fandom Tags are OPEN!

Mycroft Holmes Tags: @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek

[temporaryrose200]

Hello I just read one of your stories and I absolutely love your writing style. Is it ok if I request a short story of William James Moriarty x reader who is the youngest sister of Sherlock Holmes?

✩You’re something✩

✟pairing: William James Moriarty x Fem Reader

✟genre: Fluff?

✟warning:Not proof read

✟One-Short

✟fandom: Moriarty The Patriot

✟summary: Being a Holmes was tough, there was so much to live up to. But a special somebody helps you through it. Reminding you that you were someone.

✟a/n: None

Being the young sibling of the Holmes brothers wasn’t easily. Constantly being in their shadows, remembering every time when you would introduce yourself people would constantly asking if your brothers were Sherlock and Mycroft. It’s was annoying being the forgotten Holmes child. But there was one person who made you feel like the most special woman in the world. William James Moriarty. A charming man who knew exactly how to treat a woman.

The day you met was when you were going to met up with your brother Sherlock. Two of you arranged to met up with one another at a cafe and when you got there, you were met with a charming young man. Greeting your brother, you pulled up a nearby chair and sat yourself down on it. “Liam” Sherlock started, turning to his friend, a genuine smile forming on your brother face. “This my younger sister Y/N” he introduced, signalling towards your awkward and nervous form from have the spot light be put on you.

‘Liam’ gazed up at you, crimson eyes focusing intensely on you. Getting yourself ready from him to say something like: “ I didn’t know the Holmes brothers ha and sister” or something along those lines. But what you got instead was something you would never expect. The blonde haired man grinned fondly at you, strangely making all your worries melt away. “You wrote ‘Twist Of The Heart’ right.” Shock ran through your body at the mention of you old book, something you had wrote about 4 years ago. No publishing company wanted to take you because you were a woman, except one. Sadly the book was a failure and the future books you had in store were thrown away. But now hearing someone mention you not just as Sherlock’s sister but as your own person was a breath of fresh air. “It was an incredible piece of literature about unrequited love. Shame that you stopped writing.” It was odd heading someone talk so highly about you. But here you are be praised.

Fidgeting around with your hands, trying thinking of an appropriate response. But your brain was blank, and you were at a loss for words. You'd never been in this sort of situation before. "A-Ahh..." you stuttered out, feeling you throat tighten. “Thank you Mr Liam”

A chuckle rumbled from the man's chest as he shook his head. “My name is actually William James Moriarty”, he said to me with a smile.

Hearing the familiar name made your heart jump in your chest and you had to take a deep breath before you could speak again. "Moriarty?" You asked him, unable to keep the surprise out of your voice. “You mean!” The man nodded. You were so shocked that it took you several seconds to react but when you did, your face flush in embarrassment. How could you not recognise him! But most importantly, he read your book! “I’m so sorry!”

And that’s how a new friendship was formed. William and you continued to met up at nearby cafes or his house.Two of you had a lot in common and he so easily to talk to. Sherlock was starting to become jealous at how much William and you were hanging out. Your brother would say that you were stealing his friend, which you found quite adorable but don’t tell Sherlock that.

William helped you with gaining your confidence back and even with creating a new book. The story was a second part from your first book. This time the girl finds love with someone she never thought she’d fall for. Ironically though you fell hard for the noble man. It felt as if fate had brought him into your life. He was the perfect man, sweet, caring and oh so handsome. He made you feel so much emotions. You were head over heels in love, but did he love you? You were a nobody compared to your brothers. Just some washed up wannabe author. William was a nobleman, he would never fall for you. Right…?

[strangesthirdeye]

Listen Before I Go (SH x Fem! Reader)

Summary: A quick call won't hurt, right?

Warning: It's Sherlock everyone like him..heavy angst? Attempt Suicide, mental breakdown, mental health, You are loved by people, don't do that. You need a hug, pleading, high ceiling, hanging rope, almost suffocating. The Empty Hearse episode.

As usual, I'm sorry if there are any wrong sentences or typos or grammatical mistakes, please forgive me and again English is not my first language, so I try to improve my language and writing in this way.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

One more loop and the knots are strong enough to support your weight. You sighed heavily. The creaking sound of the chair under your feet is heard when you make some motions on it. You look around your living room. Everything is scattered and unmanaged. Papers and books on the floor not to mentioned chairs are scattered around the living room, just like your wooden table.

you exhaled a heavy breath and looked up to see the noose hanging from the ceiling of your house. Well, here it is. After running around in your own mind and going through all the painful and stressful things in the real world, you are finally lost. Those things successfully kick your ass. Not to mention what happened to Sherlock two years ago. He committed suicide and claimed he was a liar, but that was not true. Why did he do that makes it a question mark for you, John, Mrs Hudson, Greg, Molly and Lestrade. Mycroft? hmm, he's just quiet. There was no news from him after that.

As if he has disappeared from existence.

Every dark plagued plays in your mind. All those rude people who curse Sherlock and proudly claim that Sherlock is a fraud. Not to mention those people have started bothering Sherlock's friends including you as his girlfriend. Those people don't know the meaning of grief.

You then look down. This is high enough. As long as your feet do not touch the floor is enough. Suffocate is not the first thing in your mind but because you don't want to commit suicide dirty with blood, you immediately decide to hang yourself. At least your life is taken slowly and in that time you can see all the happy memories at the end of your time.

You stand on your tiptoes and stick your head into the noose. The noose gently ends around your neck. Your hands started to tighten the noose around your neck so that it would be tight and not come loose when you hung it later. You sighed for the second time.

You are not afraid but nervous. Well, at least you know what your destiny is. You then close your eyes and your legs are ready to push the chair. All of the sudden, your phone rang in your pants pocket. You were shocked and almost pushed the chair under you but luckily the chair didn't slip.

You fish out your pocket and take your phone out of your pocket. You gulped your saliva slowly when you saw the contact on your phone.

John.

You immediately slide accept and open the speaker.

"Y/n"

"Hey, John"

"Where are you now? I need to tell you something.. Might be a surprise from me to you... I guess" John chuckled a little. Following with his hype tone means that John is in a good mood. Good. You're going to ruin his mood if you tell him what you're up to.

"what is it that you want to tell me? Is it Mary tho?" You pretend to hype your voice just to hide your crack tone.

"Well, I prefer to tell you at a cafe around your house only if you're not busy" John reasoned.

"well, i can't go out now.. can you just tell me on the phone instead? i kind of not really having a mood to go out anymore" You bit your lip slightly.

John was silent for a moment. You can imagine his confused face in your mind. Classic John. Gonna miss him.

"Are you alright?" John asked.

"mhmm.. I'm always alright" You replied.

"really? cuz' that's not how your 'alright' voice sounds like" John said suspiciously. "is it about Sherlock again?" John added.

Dammit. Why does he have to be the one who is always right? You are silent.

"It's been two years, Y/n. You have to let go that 'feeling'. It's not good for you" John said as if a father was advising his children to be useful human beings.

"you don't understand, aren't you? It's not easy. You have Mary.. while I don't have no one. No one to help me. Not even Mycroft. And I don't want to bring Mrs Hudson into this. She's already got a lot of plates in her hands." you paused you stand on your tiptoes.

"well, at least you don't have to deal with me anymore. I know what I'm doing now is a very useful thing. You don't have to worry about me." you added, the voice started to crack.

"What are you doing right now, Y/n. Don't you dare say that to me. I know exactly what you are trying to do. I'm coming" John's voice seemed to rush.

"tell me, John" you spoke up.

"what" John snapped trying to stop himself from yelling at you not to say negative things again.

"tell me what you want to say to me. That you expect me to be surprised" You closed your eyes. Tears streamed down your cheeks.

John let out a heavy breath. "I- oh god! this is not the situation I expected to tell you what it is. Taxi!" John yelled. John's voice then became muffled for a few moments before it became clear again. John then hurriedly told the cab driver your home address. Although the location is quite far from your house, John doesn't care about the fare. As long as he can save his other friend this time.

"just hold on. Don't end the call" John informed you firmly. John then sighed anxiously. "I-I plan to propose Mary tonight"

You smiled sadly. "is it going to be fancy? big?" you questioned him.

"fancy but simple.. oh gosh, why can't you just.. not doing all these things? You have many other things out there to go through! why now do you want to end it?" John is furiously rich.

"I think this is the end of my story. I've got nothing out there to go through. You have Mary. She's the one, John. Marry her. Make her half of your life. Have a family." You said lowly. your toes little by little push the chair under you.

"don't you dare say that. Think about it again. Sherlock doesn't want all this. He doesn't like any decision to end your life. He despises it. He wants you to move on and live a normal life. Normal life! Don't you want that? Find someone who can be with you for the rest of your life. Please.. I don't want to lose my best friend again" John begged.

Your line is quiet. Only the sound of the cab that John was riding in was heard. You look down. The hanging rope around the neck feels tight.

You know he's right but why don't you move away from the noose that is now resting on your neck? Sherlock doesn't like this. He despises it like John said earlier. Why then don't you open the rope and get off the chair? It's not going to work you know. Kill yourself. It's not.

Every thousand possibilities play in your mind as you hold the phone tightly in your hand. You bit your lips hard.

"I can't hold it anymore. The feeling of pain, grief and lost. It's not easy like what you say. It's just- Move on? no.. it's not working." you sobbed.

"No.." John paused. Probably is choosing and arranging the next sentence. "No, it's not easy. But, Sherlock wouldn't want that, right? So whatever you're doing now just drop it. Please. For the sake of Sherlock Holmes" John added in a tone of hope.

You paused and closed your eyes. Thumbs up on the screen. "I'm sorry, John" and you ended the call.

'just get on with it' whispered the demon in your ear. You choked on your own tears in your throat. You tossed your phone aside and stared for a moment then without hesitation you pushed the chair down so fast that it landed on the floor. But you don't fall, you float in the air with a hanging rope around your neck.

And there goes your oxygen is cut off quickly as you gasp for air while thrashing in the air. Both hands on the noose around your neck while your eyes darted around the living room. Mouth part away trying to get even a little oxygen. Your skin's colour is getting paler and your brain is in a state of shock when the oxygen is getting less and less to the brain.

You almost lost consciousness and then you see it. Life flashes before your eyes. Happy and sad memories. All in one. As the last piece of memories played in your eyes, you finally lost consciousness. Both your hands limp to the side while your head lolled forward. Your hair frames your pale face. But not before you hear the door of your house burst open by someone. Someone who you didn't get to see as your eyes are now tightly closed. Welcoming the feeling of a blanket of darkness.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Eyes opened slowly as you gasped to take enough oxygen into your body system. Every thought plays in your mind. Why can't you just go in peace? Why do people have to bother you?

You look around the living room. Now you are lying on the floor. Eyes on the ceiling while your breath is still panting. Everything is hurt especially in your neck. You can still feel the texture of the hanging rope around your neck.

You curse whoever messed up your suicide attempt. It could be John but the taxi John took could not be able to get here quickly. So who? You glared at the person who was kneeling next to you but then as soon as your eyes landed on the silhouette, you widened your eyes.

there he is, a man who claims to be a sociopath and never believes in sentiment but then falls into the terms boyfriend and girlfriend. His brunette hair, his eyes, his cheek bones and his face are still the same but at the same time he looks a little mature. While his eyes hold emotions that are very heavy plus panic and concerned etched on his face.

Sherlock Holmes. The so called 'fraud' is now on your side.

"What were you thinking?!" Sherlock said loudly.

You are stunned. Sherlock then touched your shoulder and shook it a little trying to get you out of the trance.

Oh, God. What you think is a dream is actually not a dream but real. The feeling of him touching your shoulder and his deep raspy and smoky timbre makes you miss him so much. Your eyes start to glaze over with tears.

"Sherlock?" you whispered his name.

Sherlock looked at you with concern and tried to help you sit up. "what were you thinking? Suffocate yourself to death? why? just why?"

"because you died! For two years. I thought you were dead once your body hit the ground in front of the hospital. Two years, Sherlock. Two years. And you think I can live without you just like that?" you yelled while slapping him on the chest several times.

Sherlock deflected your blow by holding both of your wrists to his chest. He looked at you with sympathy. "I want to save you and the others. This is all I can do. Moriarty will do worse than what you don't expect that's why I have to do that. Two years I tried to take down his network and now I'm here. What you did earlier there was the most horrible thing for me. I don't want to come back home knowing that you are dead."

You thought for a moment. Your red eyes looked at Sherlock's face with realization on your face. And then you sniffed and leaned your head on his chest.

Sherlock then put his arms around you. His right hand was placed on the back of your head and stroked gently while his head was placed on top of your head.

"You saved me.. oh, how stupid I am to do that" you sobbed.

"no you're not stupid. Don't say that. You are the most brilliant and courageous woman I know. Your intelligent and kind attitude makes me adore and fond of you more.. listen, I don't always say this but you are the only reason I'm coming home. Please.. don't do that ever again" Sherlock said while kissing your hair.

"John will be here soon." you say. Your voice is muffled in his chest.

"let him. might as well make it a surprise for him." Sherlock joked trying to lighten up the mood.

You chuckled tearfully and then hugged Sherlock tightly. Sherlock smiled gently and tightened his arms and rocked you left and right with his eyes closed.

[sunshine-blastbeat]

Hacking The Heart

Pairing: Merlin (Hamish Mycroft) x Fem!Reader

AU where Roxy and Merlin survive the Golden Circle

Summary: It's been some time since the incident at Poppy Land, but the Kingsmen are still understaffed, so the Statesmen send their personal tech wiz, Agent Vodka, out to lend the knights at the round table a helping hand.

Author's note: this whole thing is inspired by several other Merlin fics that I really liked, as well as being heavily inspired by this video from PebblesASMR. It's a good listen, so I suggest you check it out!

Word count: 3.3k+

Alias: Agent Vodka

Age: 25

Skills: Hacking and technology 

Alliance: Statesmen 

~~~

Y/N was a… troubled child, to say the least. She grew up in the suburbs, usually getting into more trouble than her grades would reflect. Fights, stealing, and a slew of other infractions dirtied her reputation in her teen years, so much so that she was sent to military school by her father. There, she learned combat, how to use her hacking skills for good, and a fair bit of manners.

At the age of 20, she had found herself back in trouble, that was, hacking the local school district’s database; taking money from teenagers who needed their grades raised or just needed their files cleaned up. One day while doing her normal hacking routine, she stumbled onto the payroll side of the servers, noticing how one of the superintendents was getting way more money than they should have been. A little more digging found that funds intended for renovations were being funneled straight into the bank account of this superintendent. So, a few screenshots were taken and sent off to the local government, anonymously of course, and within the next week, said superintendent was released from their duties.  

It then only took a few days after for Y/N to have a knock on her door. A well dressed woman stood on Y/N’s front porch, much too small to be a detective. She introduced herself as Agent Whisky, stating that her organization had taken note of her recent activities, and that Y/N’s skills could be useful to them. Y/N was skeptical at first, seeing as a random woman was wanting to take her away to an undisclosed location, but after a few hours of talking Y/N decided to trust Whisky. 

That was about 5 years ago. Now working with the Statesmen, Y/N goes by the code name Agent Vodka, but she is usually called ‘Vod’ by her teammates.  Y/N had gone on several missions, but was soon put into the position of ‘Tech Wiz’, as the team liked to call it; hacking into databases, conducting remote surveillance, and just conducting general tech needs for the Statesmen. 

One day, while doing some maintenance work on some of the tech for an upcoming mission, Champ, the Statesmen’s leader, entered the lab. 

“We need to ship you off to London.” Champ said, in this thick country accent. 

“I’m sorry?” Y/N said, needing more information on this sudden task.

“Our brother organization, the Kingsmen, are still having problems getting their numbers back up after the Poppy incident.” Champ said as he slowly walked across the room, “We need to send you over to them to help out with a mission they are currently on, and considering your skill sets, you're the best candidate for the job.”

Y/N let out a long sigh as she leaned back in her chair. “When does the jet take off?”

“0600 tomorrow morning. I suggest you pack a raincoat, I hear it gets mighty wet this time of year.” Champ says with a smile as he leaves the lab, leaving Y/N to take in the sudden task presented to her.

~~~

As the jet lands in the hidden docks, Y/N collects her belongings, making her way to the door and down the stairs. She is greeted by 3 men and a woman, along with her teammate, Tequila. 

“Welcome, Agent Vodka. I am Agent Merlin, this is Agent Galahad, Agent Lancelot, and… also Agent Galahad.” the tallest man said, he was clean shaven, even his scalp. Merlin had gestured to each of the agents as he went through their names. 

“You can just call me Harry,” said the second Galahad. Smiling as he stuck his hand out for a handshake. Y/N smiled and shook his hand before turning to Tequila, “Long time, no see, huh, Tequila?” 

Tequila smiled, having traded in his old cowboy hat for a bowler hat. “It’s been a minute hasn’t it, Vod?” After Agent Galahad introduced himself, telling Y/N to call him Eggsy, as well as Agent Lancelot, who told her to call her Roxy, the group moved into the main building, the mansion known as Kingsmen HQ. 

Tequila gave Y/N a tour, showing her all the facilities and where she would be staying. After putting her stuff in her room, everyone was called into the briefing room. 

Harry began the meeting by recapping on what they already know: They were following Raymond Gavara, a man who sought to overload the World Wide Web and telecoms in order to fry all technology so he could rebuild the tech industry on his own databases and to reset the world’s financial institute structure. Basically, he wanted to bring the world back to a cash only society and make everyone buy his computers and phones to rake in billions. 

Harry then gave the floor to Merlin, who then showed everyone Gavara’s pictures and what they knew about him. Tequila, Eggsy, and Roxy were all given tasks and sent out, meanwhile Y/N was brought into the Kingsmen’s tech lab, where she was shown where she would be working from and what the team needed from her.

~~~

Several months had passed and the progress on the mission was moving slowly. Every time Merlin and Y/N would get a lead in tracking or hacking into Gavara’s database, they were almost instantly blocked. Firewall after firewall, cypher after cypher, it was just one thing after another and they could only do so much decoding with the information they had. 

However, that didn’t mean there wasn’t any down time. With three trouble makers in the same place, Y/N, Eggsy, and Tequila got into a lot of mischief. It started just as a small joke, that Merlin was strung so tight that he probably did not have the ability to laugh. So Y/N went to work, setting little pranks up, trying to get the stoic Merlin to even just crack a smile. It started small, like making faces during meetings with him, then it was the traps placed at his desk, like glitter bombs or spring snakes. Even just trying to make dumb jokes while they both typed away in the tech lab, but nothing seemed to work. 

One day, while Y/N was trying to crack the code on one of Gavara’s firewalls, the team was called into the debriefing room. 

“So, we have a bit of a lead on someone who may be in contact with Gavara. Thomas Write, a professor of economics at the University of Cambridge, has been seen making a few too many ‘coincidental’ bump-ins with known associates of Gavara.” Harry said as he looked at everyone at the table, “While it's not much to go off of, we still need Mr. Write to be tracked and watched for the next couple days. Seeing as Merlin and Vodka haven’t made much progress on getting through Gavara’s database, we will need to go all in on a physical approach to destroying his servers. Eggsy and Tequila, you are to go to the warehouse that stores the servers in Switzerland. Merlin, you will go and keep an eye on Write, make sure he is not involved in Gavara’s plans. As for Roxy and Vodka, you two will stay here.” 

Everyone nodded in agreement with Harry’s plan, getting up and leaving the room to prepare for the mission. However, Merlin stayed in the room, looking dissatisfied as everyone left.

 As everyone else cleared out, Y/N stood outside the door, listening to the two men talk.

“Are you serious Harry? A surveillance mission on someone who most likely isn’t even involved?” Y/N recognized the Scottish accent as Merlin’s. 

“It’s just a precaution, Merlin. We don't want another incident like with Professor Arnold. You’ll be put up in a hotel across the street from Write’s condo.” Harry said, trying to ease the angry Scott. 

“Well then why don't you send that insufferable Agent Vodka then? All she does is distract me from my work here at HQ.” Merlin nearly barked back. Y/N was a little hurt by his words, ‘Am I really that bad?’ she thought to herself, ‘a little annoying, sure, but insufferable?’ 

Just as Y/N was about to walk away, she heard Harry call for her through the door. 

‘Shit,’ she thought as she pushed the door open to look at the two men waiting in the room.

“Since you seem so concerned about Merlin’s mission that you felt the need to listen in on our conversation, you will be joining Merlin on the surveillance of Thomas Write.” Harry said, causing Merlin to look at him, wide eyes, a hint of anger clear on his face.

“Harry, you can’t be-” Merlin began, but was quickly cut off by Harry.

“Didn’t you just say that Agent Vodka should be on this task as well?” Harry raised an eyebrow toward Merlin, a silent dare to question his authority. 

“Yes, sir.” Merlin said, admitting defeat, but still with a tinge of anger in his voice. 

“Then it's settled, both of you get packed. You have an hour before you leave and I'll have your alias’ in the car.” Harry said before Merlin stomped off out of the room. Y/N nodded and quickly left, rushing to her room to pack some clothes as well as her mobile units. 

The car ride to the hotel was awkward. Not only was it obvious that Merlin didn’t like Y/N, but their alias was that of a married couple. Because of course it was. The Hotel was also nothing to write home about, a small dingy room with a twin bed and a small bathroom. The only reason Y/N could tell that this room was selected for the stakeout was the large window that faced Thomas Write’s condo, giving a perfect view of his living room as well as the entrance to the condo building. 

As soon as Merlin and Y/N entered the room, they began setting up. Y/N got onto her mobile unit and found Write’s wifi network, remotely installing bugging software on all his devices and gaining access to his security cameras. Merlin went out and quickly placed a GPS tracker on Write’s car before returning to the hotel room. As Merlin entered the room Y/N waves her hands in front of the computer screens, acting as if she was an assistant presenting a product on the sales channel. Merlin just sighs and moves past Y/N, taking the chair that she was previously sitting in and begins montering Write through the cameras.

~~~

It was the third day of the stakeout and Merlin hadn’t taken his eyes off of the screens. Y/N was mostly on food duty, dipping out of the hotel to grab take out and coffee. This was supposed to be a team effort, but it seemed that every time Y/N took over surveillance so that Merlin could rest, he always pushed her out of the way and took back over. 

It was starting to become another long night. Y/N had just grabbed some takeout and was entering the hotel room, only to see Merlin still watching Write do… nothing still. 

“About time you got back, I sent you out hours ago, what took so long?” Merlin said, impatiently.

“There was a really long line at the Chinese restaurant and they make everything on the spot so-” but before Y/N could finish, Merlin interrupted her, “Oh, whatever. Just bring my food over here so I can eat and do surveillance.” Y/N takes Merlin’s takeout box out of the bag and places it on the desk next to Merlin, along with a fork. Immediately Merlin begins digging into his food, a stark contrast from his usually well put together demeanor. 

With food still in his mouth he clears his throat before speaking, “You know what I don’t understand? Is why you agreed with Harry to come here with me, or why he wanted to put you on this task in the first place. This isn’t even anything difficult or special, just monitoring for the sake of making sure all of our bases are covered. And what I also don't understand is why you insist on making my life a living hell through all of this. I’m doing all the heavy lifting for this task, and yet you still find ways to get in the way or just cause inconveniences for me.” As Merlin speaks, he doesn’t look away from the screens, still watching as Write fiddles about his study. 

“Hey, I'm doing my best here. And it's not like I’m not doing anything, I've been bringing you food and trying to help, but you just keep pushing me aside to do it yourself!” Y/N counters back, causing Merlin to swive in his chair to face her.

“Don’t give me that. I have to take over all the tasks because you either do it wrong or take too long to do it. Just the other day, you said you were going to go check out some shady individuals that were mucking around at the condo’s entrance, only to go off and get yourself coffee, AND you didn’t even bring me back any!” 

“I told you, I didn’t know what you would even want, it's one of those fancy places that does mostly iced coffee. Besides, I brought back donuts.”

“Yea, but the donuts were for you. There were like 6 and you ate 4 of them before I could even get a chance to see what you brought.” Merlin was now staring daggers at Y/N through his nearly bloodshot eyes, red from hours of staring at the screens. 

Y/N looked at Merlin with a look of disbelief, coupled with a tinge of anger and annoyance.

“Well, besides the point, all you do is sit here and distract me. I would have gotten by on this mission by myself just fine and still gotten more work done, and I'm not even talking about just this task, the whole mission. You know I was excited to work with you when the Statesmen first sent you over. I thought ‘maybe this won't be so bad. Maybe I'll finally get to work with someone who is competent and-and will be able to actually help me get all this work done.’ but no, I got you, the insufferable yank that likes to spend her time harassing me and annoying me at every waking second.” 

“Harass and annoy you? Look, I was just trying to have fun, to give you a distraction, a mental break from work, ok?” Y/N says, now almost laughing with annoyance at the way Merlin perceives her.

“For fun?” Merlin gives a half mocking and half sleep deprived laugh, “Why? It’s obvious to me, and everyone else at HQ, that you hate me. And you know what? The feeling is mutual.” Merlin then turns back to the screens, seeing that Write hasn’t moved from his previous place in his condo. 

The room is silent. As Merlin turns around again, he see’s Y/N with an almost pout on her face.

“Oh what? Why are you making that face?” He says, annoyance present in his Scottish accent.

“You hate me?” she says.

“What? Is it not clear that we have this hate-hate relationship?” Merlin says in almost disbelief.

Y/N stays silent for a second before speaking again, “I don’t hate you.” 

“Then why? Then why do you insist on doing all your little pranks, hm?” Merlin crosses his arms, waiting for a response.

“Because I want you to have fun. I want you to relax a little. You're always so serious and tense. I get that, because of our line of work, you have to be, but you should be able to stop and laugh some times.” Y/n says, taking a few steps closer to Merlin now. 

“Well, I-I can be plenty of fun actually!” a slight blush creeps up on Merlin’s face, taken aback by Y/N’s reasoning. “I can have plenty of fun. Just ask Eggsy or Harry, they’ll tell you, that… I’m, uh… fun” Merlin’s words fall off, realizing that he may have been a bit too harsh on you, with his lack of sleep causing him to act too brash.

“Well… if you don't do it because you hate me.. Then… why? Why do you want me to have fun?” Merlin looks down, not making eye contact with Y/N.

“Well…” Y/N takes another step towards Merlin before she is standing directly in front of him, her knees nearly touching his. “Maybe it'll be easier if I just showed you.”

“Show me what-” Merlin is cut off by Y/N grabbing him by his sweater, pulling him closer so she can plant her lips on his. Merlin is shocked at the sudden kiss, unmoving for a moment before relaxing and closing his eyes, kissing her back. His hands instinctively going up to rest on her waist, pulling her closer. The kiss becomes heated with both their lips dancing together. 

Just then Merlin comes to his senses, pulling back, “Wait! Wait, wait, wait.” Merlin catches his breath and adjusts his glasses. “What was… that?” 

Y/N, still high on her own confidence, looks right at Merlin with an unreadable expression, “A kiss.” 

“Well, yea I know that. B-but what I mean is why… Did you kiss me?” Merlin says as he is still breathing heavily. Y/N lets out a sigh as she stands up straight, “Jesus, Merlin.” she begins.

“No, I know, but I mean we can’t be… we’re working together now and we just… the regulations and-and the stakeout, and I thought you hated me and now… this.” Merlin gestures his hands around, alluding to what just happened. 

“Damnit, Merlin. Is it so hard to think that I do what I do to you because I like you? That I’ve been staying up to ungodly hours here with you because I want to keep you company? If I hated you, then I would have told Harry to shove it and gone back to the Statesmen. I stay because…” Just as Y/N get to the last couple of thoughts that are running through her mind, she feels the words stick to her tongue, “Because I think I love you.” 

This time Merlin is the one to jump to his feet, wrapping one arm around Y/N’s waist and the other grabs the back of her head, pulling her into a deep kiss. And this time it’s Y/N’s turn to be surprised before returning the kiss, their lips moving together. Merlin runs his tongue along Y/N’s bottom lip, testing the waters.

Y/N pulls back slightly, looking up at Merlin. “What about the regulations?” She says with a slight smirk on her face.

Merlin returns the smirk, “I lied, there are no regulations.” The two rejoin, Y/N hand cupping the back of Merlin’s head as the other rests on his chest, gripping at the fabric of his sweater. 

Just as Merlin begins to walk Y/N back towards the bed in the room, he gets a call on his glasses, quickly pulling away and answering.

“Yes? Mm. mhm. I see. Good work Eggsy. Yes, see you soon.” He says before tapping the side to end the call.

“What was it, Merlin?” Y/N asks.

“Eggsy. He says they’ve completed the mission and that Gavara has been neutralized. We’re free to wrap up here.” 

Y/N looks down, about to step away from Merlin before he pulls her back, his arm still around her waist. 

“He also says that next time I decide to engage in… extracurricular activities, I should make sure to disable my video calls.” Merlin double taps the side of his glasses before taking them off and placing them on the desk. “ And please, call me ‘Hamish’.” Merlin then leans down and takes Y/N’s mouth again before continuing with the actions he had already set in motion.

[sunshine-on-my-mind]

Meera, hello!!!!

I saw the DM(?) you post, can I have one for Sherlock plz?

So....with a fem and chubby reader, she's Enola's friend, but she prefers live in Hermit style.

But when Enola want to do sth, she would try her best to help Enola. And when Enola fight with her brothers, she just hide in reader's house.

Sherlock found that r is good at hiding and observing the emotions, she is kind of the opposite of him but is tolerable.

Best friend's brother trope and may I add that reader has a habit that when she feel want to be clingy, she would rub her cheek on his shoulder or his chest with holding his hand?

The rest is by you, wish you have a good day🥰🥰

a/n: hi Nana, so i’ve tried to write something with Best Friend’s Brother AU with Sherlock and Chubby reader, hope you like it 💙

pairing: Sherlock x Chubby!Reader

You hear a knock on your door, a particular knock which you recognise very well.

And ‘tis indeed her, your closest friend Enola Holmes. You let her in your home, like you have before, several instances regarding arguments with her brother, especially Mycroft Holmes.

Enola was close to her other brother Sherlock, the man of mystery, she looked up to him.

“What is the matter this time?” You ask after offering Enola her favourite cake.

“Nothing new, only Mycroft being a pompous arse!” She huffs and takes the piece of cake from you. “The worst part, do you know? Sherlock didn’t object, didn’t say a word”

Enola was few years younger than you, but the bond you both had formed was very strong. You truly cared for her, and she for you.

Enola and you are engaged in a conversation when you hear another knock on the door.

“Sherlock!” you both utter at the same time.

“Oh I do not wish to go back” Enola looks at you with pleading eyes.

“How about you go to my room and I will speak to Sherlock?”

She nods and goes inside your bedroom as you make your way to the door, fixing your dress, you open the door.

“Mr. Holmes” You give a curt nod to Sherlock, and he quickly looks you up and down. It would a lie that his gaze didn’t affect you, didn’t make you want more.

“My sister…” Sherlock trails off as he makes his way inside your home. “She is in the bedroom.” Sherlock says matter of factly.

You open your mouth to say something but he looks back at you with a certain look on his that makes your whole body shiver. You clear your throat and walk up to him.

“Mr. Holmes, for a person who has extraordinary thinking abilities do you actually ever think?” Sherlock is taken aback

“Yes, your sister is in the bedroom, hiding from you, but do you care enough to ask why? to think why?”

It is at that moment you realise how close you are standing to him, how his shoulders are so broad, how you want to touch his chest, and how you want to run your finger through his hair.

Sherlock never looks at you with ridicule in his eyes, which other people do sometimes. He stares into your eyes, momentarily dropping to your body, then to your lips and again to your eyes. Sherlock didn’t quite understand what he felt towards you, he wasn’t good with feelings, all he knew is that when you touch him sometimes, be it keeping your head on his shoulder when you, him and Enola are out in a park, and you lean to him unknowingly. He is fond of that, he is fond of you.

“Enlighten me” His voice is low.

“Your sister, she looks up to you, it is not Mycroft she is angry at, it is you, because she cares about you. And I know you do too, but that is the issue with you Holmes siblings, you don’t express your feelings.”

“And you are excellent at it, aren’t you?” Sherlock asks sarcastically.

“Well at least better than you.” With that you leave him in the living room making your way to Enola, you have a hearty conversation with her about how Sherlock cares for her too, just does not know how to express it and she listens to you, all while her brother waits for the two of you.

“Right then Mr. Holmes, Enola will go back with you now.” You announce and smile at Enola, who gives you a tight hug and you hug her back.

“Thank you.” Enola smiles at you.

The Holmes siblings make their way back to their home after wishing you a good day.

“Sherlock?” Enola asks her brother.

“Hm?”

“You like her don’t you?” Sherlock smiles at that, a smile full of adoration, something that rarely appeared on his face

“She is tolerable.”

[adhd-merlin]

Twenty questions for fanfic writers:

(Nobody tagged me I'm just procrastinating!!)

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

42, but most of my older stuff is on livejournal, where it shall remain.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

193,392.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Right now only Merlin. I’m a ‘one fandom at the time’ kind of person.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Four out of five are Sherlock fics and I doubt anyone cares about that, so I’m going to make it Top 3 Merlin fics:

Call It Anything We Want (Arthur/Gwen/Merlin) - link

All Downhill from Here (Merlin/Arthur) - link

Unwavering (Merlin/Gwaine) - link

I like that it’s a mix of ships!

5. Do you respond to comments?

I do! I like talking to other people about The Characters. Sorry if I’ve ever rambled at you.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don’t really write angst. The only one I can think of is a Sherlock fic based on the theme of mismatched names in a soulmate AU (if this means anything to you). The first part was bittersweet (Sally Donovan/Harry Watson), the second part just sad (John/Sherlock)—both probably not that good. I wrote it a decade ago and I’m not going to re-read it now to see if I am right.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Call It Anything We Want. Everything gets solved and everyone is happy! The end.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

None so far!

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Sometimes! All kinds :)

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Generally I don’t, but funnily enough the fic of mine with the most kudos is a Sherlock x Harry Potter crossover. (It was for a fanfic exchange and my recipient had this crossover on their wishlist.) There’s nothing particularly crazy about it.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Someone asked me if they could translate a fic of mine once and I said it was fine, but they never got back to me with a link, so I don’t know if they actually did it. I don’t think so.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Ooooh this takes me back. Yes—nothing that was ever published, but I did attempt to co-write a fic with a fandom friend once. We had become friends through livejournal by commenting on the same on-going fic—and when I say friends, I mean we ended up exchanging emails, photos, talking about personal stuff and chatting for hours every day.

Which might not sound like a big deal now, but this happened over 15 years ago, when people didn’t carry the entire internet in their pocket, and chatting with someone for hours meant sitting at the family computer in the living room. Also there was a 6-hour time difference between us.

It escalated to the point where we were making promises to visit each other someday and I had even told my mum about him, but one day he just vanished. (This wasn’t romantic by the way—he was gay, I was questioning; it truly was ‘just’ being friends). Never found out what happened to the guy and I was heartbroken about it for a while. Needless to say, that fic never got finished.

It was a Brokeback Mountain modern AU by the way.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

I’ve never written or read any Jane Eyre fic but I’m going to say Jane Eyre/Mr Rochester. I just love them individually and as a couple.

As a fanfic reader, while I do have favourite ships, I’m fairly open-minded, and to me an exceptionally written story trumps a specific pairing any day. For example, I’ve read loads of John/Sherlock fics, but what ended up sticking in my mind years later are the fics that were very original or well written, regardless of the ship—like the one where Mycroft and Anthea are the same mind in two bodies and John ends up dating both, or the fem!Lestrade/Mycroft fic (even though this wasn’t a ship I particularly cared about), or the one where John and Sherlock have to take a seal to a sanctuary (gen). On the other hand, most of the Johnlock fics I've read have blurred together, even if (or maybe because) this was the ship I read more fics about.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

There’s one in which Merlin and Gwaine go on a diplomatic visit to the Druids which has been sitting in my Google docs folder for a while, but first I want to finish another fic, because I’ve already written most of it and it’s been languishing in my drafts for even longer. I think I’ll finish the latter eventually—if only for sunk cost fallacy reasons—but I’m not sure about the Merwaine one (which might be platonic Merlin & Gwaine, by the way—I’ve not really decided).

16. What are your writing strengths?

I’ve been told by some that my characterisation was good, but I suppose that’s quite subjective.

One thing I’m trying to pay more attention to now is the overall narrative structure—I don’t write long fics, but even with shorter works you still need an inciting incident, a climax, and a resolution at the very least. I didn’t use to think about it much, but I’m trying to be more mindful of it. Just…making sure those elements are there, I suppose, and that the pacing doesn’t feel off. Not saying I’m good at it but I like to think it’s made my writing a bit better?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Basic ass prose lol. I started writing fanfic to post online when I was a teenager with a poor grasp on the English language, and what helped me immensely at the time was keeping in mind my English teacher's advice to “just KISS!!” (“Kiss It Short and Simple”).

I still think about it to this day when I get stuck, and it is very helpful when you just need to get the words out and on the page, but it doesn’t make for beautiful prose.

Sometimes I read other people’s work and marvel at their precise use of vocabulary, their inventive metaphors, their evocative language—then I look at my own writing and it’s like, “They were in a room. She was wearing a red dress. It was dark outside.” You know what I mean? But I do this in my spare time as a hobby so I don’t stress about this too much. I’m not trying to win the next Pulitzer Prize or anything.

That and I’m not good at describing stuff. I don’t like descriptions. “They were in a room”—oh, what did it look like? I don’t know! Use your imagination.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

My thoughts are: do it sparingly, do it only if there is a point to it, and try to get it checked by a native speaker (or at the very least do some basic research to make sure it is correct). I have nothing against it in theory, but it can be off-putting to a reader who happens to speak that language if the dialogue sounds unnatural or is just plain wrong. If we are talking about dead or fictional languages it’s not as important, I guess, but never assume there won’t be a nerd who knows Old English or Sindarin ready to correct you.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Brokeback Mountain. Weirdly enough, it had a very active fandom on livejournal back in the day.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

I don’t remember them all, but for Merlin I’m going to say this ficlet in which Arthur and Gwen have a baby called Ygraine and Merlin is the doting third parent/uncle figure.

It’s actually part of a Merwenthur series but it can be read on its own as Arthur/Gwen + best friend Merlin. I just want them to be happy!!!

Excerpt:

Scattered on the floor around the three of them are a couple of the rag dolls Guinevere enjoys sewing, some of the wooden figurines Merlin enjoys carving, and the wooden sword Ygraine enjoys smacking on people’s heads. She’s going through a phase — which Arthur finds slightly unsettling, even though Guinevere assures him it is normal — in which she seems to delight in the mild suffering of others, and gleefully seizes the opportunity to cause it when it presents itself. The methods employed are varied and impressively effective in their simplicity: pulling hair, twisting noses, biting fingertips, grabbing ears — especially those of people who insist on making themselves an easy target by parading around with a pair that looks so easily grabbable — and other such tricks as can be devised by the devious mind of a baby who can now confidently rely on her grasping skills. (...) Ygraine’s improper handling of a sword is unimportant, since that can be easily fixed with proper training; her fledgling sadistic streak, on the other hand, is slightly more worrying, being something Ygraine cannot have inherited from her mother, and having thus prompted in Arthur a level of self-scrutiny he doesn’t feel entirely comfortable with.

I also quite like An Act of Balance actually (Daemons!AU, Gen, Arthur & Merlin). I don’t think it’s the best thing I’ve written or anything, it was just fun to write.

Excerpt:

“So,” Merlin said, his voice muffled, due to him being half-inside Arthur’s wardrobe. “Gwen told me you’ve been asking questions about my daemon.” Arthur choked on the water he was drinking. “Sire?” Merlin stuck his head out, looking at Arthur in concern. “I’m fine!” Arthur rasped out, thumping his chest with his fist. Merlin grabbed a couple of shirts from the wardrobe. “Red or blue?” he asked, holding up first one and then the other, while Arthur tried to get his coughing under control. “I think blue. More flattering. I would’ve told you if you’d asked.” “That… blue flatters me?” Arthur asked hoarsely, blinking back tears. “About my daemon,” Merlin said, looking at Arthur as if he despaired of his intelligence.

tagging (if you feel like it): @agapantoblu @centurieslove @sexy-sapphic-sorcerer @holocrone @0hheytherebigbadwolf

@thefollow-spot @liviapeleia + anyone who wants to answer these (consider yourself tagged by me 🫵)

[derelictlovefool]

❝​🇬​​🇺​​🇮​​🇩​​🇪​​🇱​​🇮​​🇳​​🇪​​🇸​❝

Author: Achilles, he/him & they/them pronouns

Status: Hobbyist, low writing activity

Writing: OC x Canon, Reader Insert, Original Fiction

Requests/Suggestions: Open

note: i'm a full time student so any requests I get will be done when and if I have time and they spark my interest!

Active in regards to fandoms & characters simply means most enthused about and interested in writing, inactive means least interested in writing but still willing if the idea sparks my creativity.

❝​🇫​​🇦​​🇳​​🇩​​🇴​​🇲​​🇸​❝

active | inactive | semi active

Far Cry 5 | Supernatural | The Last of Us | Marvel | DC | Doctor Who | Sweeney Todd | The Witcher | Dying Light 2 | Z Nation | Inkheart | Bridgerton | Slashers | Outlast | Resident Evil | Overwatch | Undertale/Deltarune | Ib | TWD Telltale | Motor Crush | The Arcana | Kingsman

❝​🇨​​🇭​​🇦​​🇷​​🇦​​🇨​​🇹​​🇪​​🇷​​🇸​❝

active | inactive | semi active

Faith Seed | John Seed | Joseph Seed | Jacob Seed | Sharky Boshaw | Hurk Drubman Jr | Adelaide Drubman | Jerome Jeffries | Mary May Fairgrave | Eli Palmer | Grace Amestrong | Joey Hudson | Staci Pratt

Dean Winchester | Sam Winchester | Castiel | Charlie Bradbury ||| Joel | Tess ||| Wade Wilson | Tony Stark | Pepper Potts | Bucky Barnes | Steve Rodgers | Thor Odinson | Bruce Banner | Natasha Romanoff | Clint Barton ||| Harley Quinn

The Doctor (4, 9-15) | Jack Harkness | Rose Tyler | Donna Noble ||| Sweeney Todd | Mrs Lovett ||| Geralt of Rivera | Jaskier/Dandelion | Yennefer of Vennenberg ||| Hakon | Aiden | Lawan | Frank ||| Alvin Murphy | Roberta Warren | Addison Carver | Cassandra | Sarge | George St Claire

Mo | Dustfinger ||| Penelope Featherington | Benedict Bridgerton | Anthony Bridgerton | Colin Bridgerton | Eloise Bridgerton | Violet Bridgerton | Kate Sharma | Edwina Sharma ||| Jason Voorhees | Michael Myers | Bubba Sawyer | Brahms Heelshire | Thomas Hewitt

Eddie Gluskin ||| Ethan Winters | Karl Heisenberg | Alcina Dimitrescu | Donna Benniviento | Slavator Monreau | Mia Winters | Chris Redfield | Leon Kennedy | Ada Wong | Claire Redfield

Jack Morrison | Gabriel Reyes | Cole Cassidy | Genji Shimada | Hanzo Shimada | Mei ||| Sans | Papyrus | Asgore | Undyne | Mettaton | Queen ||| Gary ||| Calax Gothard | Domino Swift | Lola Del Carmen | Sonoya Vernilion ||| Asra | Nadia | Dorian | Portia | Muriel ||| Merlin/Hamish Mycroft

OC's: David Thorn (Slasher), Z (God Symbiote), Xander (Robot)

❝​🇹​​🇷​​🇴​​🇵​​🇪​​🇸​❝

Tropes I enjoy writing:

Variations of the Enemies to Lovers/Friends to Lovers | Childhood Friends | Neighbour across the hall/street | Mutual Pining | Devotion and Obsession | Making each other worse | Making each other better | Romance in Violence | Ride or Die Friends | Royal Guard/Gardener x Royalty | Crime Boss x Bodyguard | Dog Coded x Cat Coded | Fuck Love Triangles Make it Poly | Fake Dating | Meet Cute and more!

❝​🇼​​🇮​​🇱​​🇱​ ​🇩​​🇴​❝

— male/trans/enby/gn!reader (I'm here for the guys and gays)

— oc x canon, oc x oc, canon x canon, reader x canon, reader x oc

— sfw & nsfw

— platonic, queer-platonic, romantic, familial, etc.

— headcannons, one-shots, multi-parts

— AU's, crossovers

— gore, violence, toxic relationships, death/angst

❝​🇼​​🇴​​🇳​❜​🇹​ ​🇩​​🇴​❝

— fem!reader (There's thousands out there already y'know)

— genderbends

— pregnancy related topics

— self harm topics

— incest, paedophilia, zoophilia, necrophilia and any of that nasty crap

— non-con

— infidelity

— Characters I really don't know or care about </3

[mybones537]

Time Chapter 10

Moriarty the Patriot x fem reader

This has also been posted on Wattpad under the same user name.

London, England, 1875

3rd person pov 

(Name) stood there waiting for the Queen Victoria to say something. Her expression was unreadable, Her Majesty stared up into the depths of her soul, her head rested elegantly on her intertwined hands. Mycroft was deadly silent, not moving at all, he almost looked terrified. 

She slowly stood up from her throne like chair, the chair scraped the floor with a loud screech. She elegantly walked around her desk with her head held up high. Mycroft silently gulped, he wasn’t scared of anyone but the Queen herself. He held his breath, he was worried what the Queen would do. He would never admit it to anyone but he was starting to grow fond of the Doctor. He liked her spirit and unwavering loyalty to her belief of standing up to authority, to stand up for respect, for what she thought was right. 

The ruler of England now stood right in front of (Name), looking down/up/straight at her (this all depends on how tall you are. I’m personally 178cm/ 5’9). She stared intensely into (Name’s) (eye coloured) eyes, as if she was trying to decipher the young woman from the future. 

“You have a very different mindset from most people,my dear” the Queen said coldly. “Nearly everyone would never even think about talking back to me. I see that people from the future are loose tongued and lack respect for the people with power.” 

(Name’s) eyes widened when those words left her mouth. She immediately turned to Mycroft with betrayal and disappointment in her eyes. He had a guilty look in his eyes as he turned his head to look away from her.  

She felt a hand gently grab her cheek all of a sudden, and move my head back to face Her Majesty. She now had a gentle look in her eyes all of a sudden, it was a look a mother would give her daughter after she had her heart broken by a boy. Her sudden change of heart had frightened both (Name) and Mycroft. 

“Don’t worry. No one else knows and no one else will. Something like this would be catastrophic if the public were to find out”, Victoria said genuinely, her hand still sitting on (Name’s) cheek. The young Doctor gently moved away, she had never been fond of human contact. 

“Let’s start with the examination. Shall we?” (Name) suggested, hoping to change the subject. 

“Yes we should get back on track” the older woman said. 

[lazydoodlesandfanfic]

Guided Horse Riding (Mycroft Holmes X Fem!Reader)

Characters: Mycroft Holmes

Universe: Sherlock

Warnings: Mention of murder, stabbings, horses

Request: hello dear can i get mycroft/fem reader? reader has a horse and force mycroft into him we want to see a scared the british government💖 [name is mira and a horse with white yellow mane]

Notes: (Uh.... happy early holidays, I'm not dead? Sorry for being gone for so long I genuinely feel so awful for being gone for so long plz forgive me ok thanks bye)

Mycroft had wondered what had led him to the very situation he was in right at this very moment, and he had mentally been piecing it together in his head, till he reached the first domino that started this all. 

The first domino- no surprises here- was Sherlock, who had realised that there had been a pattern in some recent stabbings, with them all happening in public, packed places, and the more people, the more victims- the first was on the underground, the second was at the opening of an art gallery, and then a charity marathon. Sherlock had deduced that the next attack would almost certainly be at the parade happening, and he slapped together a rough description for what to look out for, and dragged Mycroft along to get him access to more secure areas- which included the stables that held the horses meant to be taking part in the parade, and that had been where he had met you. 

You had been there checking in on your horse- Mira, to make sure she was comfortable, calm and ready for such an event, though you knew it was more like you with the nerves than her, this being the first time either of you had took part in an event like this. So when you had the Holmes brother approach you, asking who you were and what you were doing back here, before asking if you’d seen anyone around you didn’t recognise, you were understandably alarmed. One was dressed mostly like any other bystander (who therefor shouldn’t be back there) and the other was dressed formally and seemed to be softening and adding politeness and context that the other, more brash man was missing. You quickly realised that Sherlock was acting mostly that way because he was in a rush, and that something bad was going to happen if he didn’t get answers in time, and luckily, you had remembered a previous interaction with a man just earlier in the day- one that had rubbed you the wrong way with how he spoke, and you pointed them in his direction. Sherlock immediately sped walked away, while Mycoft took the time to shake your hand, thank you for your cooperation, and wish you luck in the parade. 

The parade itself went off without a hitch- at least from your perspective it did. Mira was an angel, behaved and also let children pet her and families take pictures with her. The only thing you noticed that was a little off, was that there was a lot more police there than you predicted, and they all seemed bunched up in one area, but you just assumed it was a safety precaution, and since nothing bad happened, you presumed it was all good. You didn’t find out exactly what had happened until you were packing up for the day, walking your horse over to her trailer, and Mycroft spotted you, and came over to speak to you. 

That was the second domino. After giving you the rundown, explaining how you had basically stopped a mass stabbing thanks to you pointing the man out earlier the day, and after explaining who exactly Sherlock was, and who he was, you got to ask your own question, which began a conversation that resulted in you sharing your phone numbers to pick it up over coffee- the third domino.

Countless other dominos had been set up and knocked down since then- dates, kisses, admissions of love, and it all- somehow- led Mycroft to where he was now, watching you set Mira up for him, so he could ride her for the first time as you reassured him she was a nice, gentle horse, which he knew, but that didn’t help his nerves.  

“You ready?” You ask, patting the neck of the horse after setting up the stool beside her, turning to look at Mycroft

“Not really.” Mycroft responded, sounding far from confident, but despite that, he still took your hand and let you guide him onto the stool, and position his foot into the stirrup.

“Alright, hold the reins, and swing your leg over, I’ll make sure you don’t fall.” You explained to him, and after a moment of hesitation, Mycroft took a deep breath, and did as you ordered, and you kept your promise and helped him onto the saddle. Mira kept perfectly still as Mycroft got settled, and sat stiffly. “See, that wasn’t so bad.” You commented, chuckling as Mycroft only managed a small, unconvinced noise of agreement. 

“Does this mean I can get off now?” Mycroft asked, glancing at you at the corner of his eye.

“Well you can… do you want to try and get off, or get comfortable first?” You asked. Mycroft, upon realising that he’d have to get off the horse, which meant him mostly going backwards, and guessing his own footwork of a horse with little help that you could provide, Mycroft froze for a moment, before sighing. 

“Fine. I’ll get a little comfortable first.” Mycroft gave in, and you grinned at him, before taking a hold of Mira’s reigns. 

“We’ll just walk on the outskirts in a circle at a slow pace.” You explained, before making Mira slowly start moving, trotting along beside you. You did a full lap of the small field you were in before looking back up at Mycroft, who’s shoulders weren’t as stiff anymore, and he didn’t look constipated anymore. “You’re doing great, honey.” You told him, his eyes coming and look at you, and he managed a small smile. 

“Yes, it’s… not as bad as I thought it would be.” Mycoft admitted. You chuckle a little, gently patching the side of Mira’s neck. 

“You can thank Mira for the positive experience. I knew she’d be able to handle a nervous rider. It’s also why she’s great with kids. I’m just glad you trusted me enough to let me put you on her.” You commented, looking up at him. Mycroft looked back at you, a small smile appearing on his lips. 

“Of course I trust you. I love you.” He responded, his voice warm, which caused you to smile.

“Well since I love you too, how about after this lap I’ll get you off Mira so we can go inside and relax for the rest of the afternoon?” You suggest. Mycroft takes a moment to consider your words, before looking down at the horse, and pauses for a moment. 

“...I think I can handle a few more laps.”

Hope you liked it! If you have any questions, please send them in!

*Not my gif

TAGS: @holy-tea-cup @sassy-specter @keenmarvellover @multifandomfix @sleutherclaw @otterly-fey @courtneychicken  @graysonmalfoy @bellero @originalpottervengerlock @supernatural-pan @esoltis280 @lady-of-lies @lenaswritingandstuff @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980 @cdwmtjb8 @caswinchester2000 @determinedpines @huntheimpossible @automaticbakeryfreakshoe

[3seven-gambler]

» 𝖬𝗎𝗅𝗍𝗂𝖿𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗆 𝖬𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍

» 𝑲𝑬𝒀: 𝒇𝒍𝒖𝒇𝒇❀ ; 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕✮; 𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆✧; 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾☾; 𝑺𝑭𝑾♡

↺ 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐞 (𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑)

➥ Rʏᴀɴ Gᴏsʟɪɴɢ Kᴇɴ

↳ Cowgirl Barbie! reader x RG! Ken dating headcanons ❀♡

↳ RG! Ken general relationship headcanons ❀♡

↳ RG! Ken falling for you ❀♡

↺ 𝐁𝐁𝐂 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤

➥ Mʏᴄʀᴏғᴛ Hᴏʟᴍᴇs

↳ Meeting Mycroft Holmes (BBC Mycroft Holmes x fem!reader) ❀♡

↳ Christmas prompt 5 -“What’s that smell… are you making cookies?” with BBC Mycroft Holmes x GN!S/O  ❀♡

↺ 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐓𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐓𝐨 𝐃𝐢𝐞

➥ Sʜɪɴ ·Sᴏᴜ· Tsᴜᴍɪᴋɪ

↳ Enemies to lovers: Shin Tsumiki x Fem!S/O  ❀♡

[megs-mostly-past-random-fandoms]

Severed and Broken(Part 2 of “Deduce Me”)

So many people requested a 2nd part to “Deduce Me”, so here it is! *Familiar Characters are NEVER mine!*

Fandom: BBC Sherlock

Warnings: Soulmate AU, angst (no fluffs given here), It’s short. Reader is broken. 

Pairings/Characters: Sherlock Holmes x fem!reader, Mycroft Holmes

"And why should I do this for you, Sherlock?" Mycroft's question grated on Sherlock's nerves. "Mycroft, I do not ask you for anything. I don't need favors from you in normal circumstances, but I need this." Mycroft cocked his head to the side for a moment as he thought. When John had called him and told him what Sherlock had done, Mycroft was determined to stay out of it. But now Sherlock was here, asking for his help. And Mycroft liked you. You were good for Sherlock.

         "I will see what I can do," he finally replied to his brother. Sherlock didn't thank him as he left Mycroft's office. The elder Holmes sighed before picking up his phone. As soon as he knew Sherlock was gone, he dialed your number. "What is it, Mycroft?" your tired voice asked when you'd answered. Mycroft quickly explained what Sherlock asked him to do and you scoffed. "Of course he did. The choice is yours, Mycroft. I won't hold any ill will for you if you choose to help him." You hung up, leaving Mycroft with a decision. He wanted to respect your choices, but he also wanted to help his brother. With that in mind, Mycroft texted Sherlock the information.

         You weren't at all surprised when, three days later, you found Sherlock standing outside the soulmate clinic. "What are you doing here, Sherlock?" you asked. "You cannot do this," Sherlock simply stated. You stared at him for a moment before you began laughing humorlessly.

         "Why not?! Why shouldn't I?! You clearly don't care. You didn't even notice I was gone!" you shouted, "I-I can't do this anymore, Sherlock. It isn't fair to either of us. Having a soulmate might not mean anything to you, but it does to me. Something has to change here. And I won't make it be you."

         Sherlock stared at you for a moment, as if waiting to see whether you were finished shouting at him. When he determined that you had, at least for the time being, he spoke. "You've always known who I was, Y/N and you have stood by my side just as Watson has. I do not think I could really forget you if I tried." You let out a scoff.

         "Really? What about the next case? A case that tickles your mind and pulls you in so deep you cannot tell fantasy from reality? What if Moriarty somehow returns? Or the next Irene Adler comes along?" you asked as you fiddled with your fingers. Sherlock couldn't argue for once. He knew you were right this one time. He opened his mouth to speak, but you continued on in your tirade.

         "Face it, Sherlock, your cases and yourself will always come first for you. And that's fine. But I won't sit idly by, letting myself die a slow and painful death at the hands of my supposed soulmate. I love you, Sherlock, I truly do, but I can't go on in this constant pain. So, I am severing the bond and releasing you from your tie to me. I wish you the very best. Please don't try to stop me."

         Before Sherlock could stop you, you raced inside. As he was about to take off after you despite your wishes, his phone pinged with a text. Lestrade with a case. Sherlock glanced up at the doors of the clinic, then back down at his phone briefly. It only took a second for him to make up his mind what he would do.

         Sherlock would learn the consequences of his choice a couple of hours later when he nearly fell to his knees in pain. When he desperately tried to reach out to you through the soul bond, he could no longer feel it. The two of you were no longer bound together. You had done it and for once in his life, Sherlock felt something akin to remorse. He only hoped you would be content with your choice.

(a/n: I hope you like it! Fluff was apparently off the table for this one though.)

Forever Tags: @fizzyxcustard @supernatural4life2022

Deduce Me Tags: @sherlocks-blanket @zizzlekwum @let-me-r-e-a-d @high-functioning-lokipath @cemak 

[konigbabe]

MY WRITING LIST

⇢ List of characters (and shows) I'm willing to write for. That doesn't mean I will write something for every single character but I might write for some (eventually).

⇢ Take this list as more of who I'm willing to write for rather than who I write for.

⇢ Default pairing is "character x fem!reader" unless stated/requested otherwise.

Resident Evil

Leon S. Kennedy ┊Jack Krauser ┊Carlos Oliveira

Call of Duty

John Price ┊ Keegan P. Russ┊König┊Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish

Jujutsu Kaisen (both anime and manga)

Satoru Gojo┊Mahito┊Toji Fushiguro┊Choso Kamo┊Kento Nanami ┊Sukuna Ryomen ┊Hajime Kashimo

Bungō Stray Dogs (both anime and manga)

Osamu Dazai┊Fyodor Dostoevsky┊Edgar A. Poe┊Nikolai Gogol┊Sigma ┊Jouno Saigiku ┊Tecchou Suehiro

Seraph Of The End (both anime and manga)

Shinya Hiragi┊Guren Ichinose┊Ferid Bathory┊Crowley Eusford┊Lacus Welt

Moriarty The Patriot (both anime and manga)

Sebastian Moran┊Sherlock Holmes┊Albert Moriarty┊Mycroft Holmes

The Case Study Of Vanitas (anime only)

Vanitas ┊ Noé Archiviste

Demon Slayer (anime only)

Giyu Tamioka┊Tengen Uzui┊Douma┊Muzan Kibutsuji┊Sanemi Shinazugawa┊Obanai Iguro

Heaven Official's Blessing (Tian Guan Ci Fu)

Feng Xin┊Mu Qing ┊Pei Ming ┊ Shi Qingxuan

The Founder of Diabolism (Mo Dao Zu Shi)

Lan Xichen ┊Xiao Xingchen┊Jiang Cheng

[rouge-wolf]

A Forgotten Friend Sherlock x Fem Reader

Chapter 1 Chapter 2

Dearmad Manor: Grand Saray, Cordona

7:56 pm

"I'm glad I didn't run into anyone. I truly needed a peaceful walk home to clear my head. I should check for mail, perhaps.... No. It's been ages. He wouldn't have sent a letter now, of all things." I mutter under my breath, walking to the mailbox; an idiotic sense of hope made itself known against my will. Slowly I open the lid, but nothing.

"Of course, I have taken care of any bills for the month, and I'm not exactly fully part of the 'in' crowd of Cordona except for the few art shows of Vogle's I attend. I shook my head at the memory of Vogle's last attempt to make me attend one of the parties he regularly attends, flicked in front of my eyes like a film. Unlocking the front door, I sigh and close my eyes as I lean against it, effectively shutting it and adding to my dramatics. 'I wonder what I should eat. What do I even have in the kitchen?' 

_____________________________________________________________

Il Palazzo del Lusso: Grand Saray, Cordona

7:40 pm 

Sherry finally made it down to the bar as I claimed our table. I wonder what she is up to. I don't think Sherry remembers her. Hell! he doesn't remember much from his time on Cordona, almost like that's the whole point of us being here, Jon. I roll my eyes at myself, something usually reserved for Mycroft and whenever Sherry is stupid. How long does it take to grab food? I had an entire introspection session.

I walked up to the bar with two platters of marlin ceviche for the taking, not that we needed two. One will suffice. 

"If seafood is not to your taste, everyone loves 'Benedict's Batch' - our poached eggs with a hollandaise sauce!" The bartender informs me. 

I got bored waiting at the table, so I looked around the foyer and found something quite intriguing. 

"Hey Sherry, just our luck!" I called, gaining his attention. 

"A medium? Jon, haven't we been through this already?"

"Come on! It's not like we got anything better to do!" 

After what I would call a masterpiece of convincing by yours truly, a rather intriguing character walks down the staircase. Hopefully, the table I found is still empty. 

"Excuse me, sir, but I believe Mr. Ghalichi is conducting a seance at the moment," I could care less about Mr. Ghalichi's scam. "Perhaps you would care to have your portrait drawn while you wait?" 

"Why?" Perhaps I could find some entertainment in a short conversation.

"Pardon me?"

"Why should I sit for a portrait?"

"I- Sir... It's art. It doesn't need a 'why.' It is its own justification." How dull.

"All things require justification, be they objects, systems, or beliefs."

"How about, 'art is the lens through which we see the truth of the world' ?" 

"That's backwards. Truth is not subjective and not complicated. It's just the truth - either it is or it isn't. You do not need a lens to see it, just an open mind." This artist is quite annoying but the most entertaining thing in the room.

"Ha. That seems rather close-minded. Truth, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder. So tell me, what do you see?" He holds out the sketch he has been working on. 

"Mediocrity," I respond, and the artist finally walks off.

"Come now, Sherry, what did he do to deserve that? The servant mentioned Ceviche at the bar, Sherry. You should grab us some, and I'll find us a table. I'm starving." I say, heading toward the table I claimed earlier as Sherry went to the bar.

I could feel my eyes roll at Jon. I had tried to grab a platter earlier, only to have him call me to that sign advertising a seance. I grabbed a platter, "Okay, time to check if Jon found us a nice table for the evening." I found Jon at a table with a cane lying on it.

"Sherry! I'm over here with my new ursine companion." I look at Jon.

"What are you waiting for? Put the dish down so we can tuck in!" Setting the dish down, I sit down in the plush chair.

"Cordona is even quieter than I remembered. It's going to be a long evening."

"Come now, Sherry. What say we amuse ourselves with a little game?"

"What were you thinking? Promise me it isn't nonsense- after being cooped up on that boat, I am itching for activity."

"No! As you can see, someone left a cane on our table. I simply thought you could identify its owner."

"Ugh, so it is nonsense. It will take me a minute, Jon, at most!"

"Well then, you can deliver it to him as well."

"Deliver it to him? Then what are the staff here for? Aesthetics?!"

"Stubborn, Sherry! Too stubborn! You wanted something to do." 'It makes me wonder how she put up with him; me a perfect angel.'

"Slapping oneself in the face is also 'something to do' That doesn't make it worthwhile! But all right, let me take a look."

I spare a glance at Jon before starting this arduous task.

"No matter how long you stare at the stick, it's not going to walk itself to its owner."

"The handgrip is a head of a golden Javanese statue, probably stolen from a temple. The dents suggest it has been used as a bludgeon. A crest depicting a bulb of garlic in a meadow. Perhaps the Fielding family or Meadows? Or Craven from the old English name meaning 'garlic place'? The cane is made of Ebony. It is worn, uncared for, and bears the scars of numerous hits. This cane is an expensive and ostentatious weapon. Its owner must be vain, volatile, and of noble English blood."

"Take it with you, Sherry! Let's return it to its owner."

I pick up the cane time to find its owner.

"All right, I hope you noted down your observations in your casebook. But how are you going to find this nobleman?"

"The cane itself is not enough. I may have to ask other guests if they saw who was here." I inform and begin to look for someone to ask.

_____________________________________________________________

Kitchen: Dearmad Manor 

8:00 pm 

The market is definitely on the docket for tomorrow. All I could find was a bit of sausage and two eggs. Dinner now decided, I quickly prepare it. "Hmm, I wonder what they're up to right now. Probably on a case." Putting my now-cooked food on a plate, I sat at the empty kitchen table and ate. I must have gotten lost in thought as I looked at the clock to see it was now 8:33. Picking up my plate and fork, I added them to the dishes I needed to clean.

"To clean or not to clean, that is the question." I stared at the dishes; maybe they would clean themselves…. "To clean is sadly the answer." I made quick work of the dishes. Now to get washed up and ready for bed.

With the bath filled with hot water and some rose oil, I slip out of my dress and undergarments and sink into the steaming water feeling my muscles instantly relax. Leaning my head back, I let my thoughts take over my mind once again. What would life be like with them here? More specifically, if he were here. I am certain of that, but would it have been possible for something more to have occurred? Lord knows his elder brother would protest it, saying such things are trivial for people like them. It is funny since they are only here due to their parent's love.

I slid down the tub till my head was submerged getting up after a moment. I grabbed my soap, lathering it in my hands before lathering it on my scalp rinsing it out a minute or two later. Grabbing my soap and a cloth, I quickly cleaned my body as the bath slowly lost its warmth. I got out of the tub, and pulled out the stopper, allowing the water to drain. Grabbing a fluffy towel, I dried myself off and slipped into one of my favorite nightgowns. As I lie in bed, I wonder what my dreams will show me. Maybe I will see my friends and go on an exciting adventure! I don't' even know when my eyelids finally shut.

_____________________________________________________________

Il Palazzo del Lusso: Grand Saray, Cordona

7:55 pm 

I approached an older lady by the bar. 

"Could you help me?"

"Of course. Stop me when you've heard enough." 

After conversing with her, I found out that there were three people at the table- a couple and a retired Navy officer. Observers weren't sure what happened to the couple, but the Navy officer was seen going out to the front garden for some air. I have to find him. 

"Well, even with your keen senses, Sherry, I doubt you'll find the cane's owner on your first try." Jon quipped as I made my way through to the front garden. 

"Ha! And would you be confident enough to bet on it, my friend?"

"Why not! Let's see how good you really are!" Now I must get this right can't let Jon have something to hold over me.

Once I entered the front garden, I gave a brief deduction of the people; to the right, by the gate, an affable Swedish artist who owns a pug; By the main walkway of the garden next to a lamp post, an affable Irish singer with seasonal allergies accompanied by an affable Irish diplomat with an allergy to seafood. So far not even close to who I'm looking for. Next was a Cordonian adventure, who was dehydrated and sympathetic. Then among a group of three men was a friendly Swedish secretary with back pains, a friendly French pharmacist suffering from cirrhosis, and an affable Swedish engineer that is a retired military officer. This is the man I was looking for. I asked him about the can and the couple he accompanied earlier that evening. 

The Navy officer, Mr. Rhodes, was sitting at our table with the noble couple. The men talked about yachting, and the lady was fidgeting with the cane. Perhaps she put it aside, and her husband forgot to take it when they went to meet the medium.

"Hey, Sherry, don't we now have the perfect excuse to visit the seance?"

"I'm just going to give the cane to its owner. You will not persuade me to take part in this show."

I head over to the seance room.

"Come on, if you hurry, perhaps we'll see the ghost!"

Jon started to play the piano to intensify the mood. I open the door to see a fight between the nobleman I was looking for, the medium, and a hotel staff member.

"This hotel, this island… it's full of thieves! First my cane, now my diamond! Take your hands off me! Do you even know who I am?"

I smacked the cane down onto my hand, and Jon finished his song. That seemed to get their attention.

"Hey, boy, that's my cane!"

"I get that a lot. It's a very common design."

"What…!? No, that's a custom-made-" "A joke, a joke," I cut him off, "It was left at my table in the restaurant. I thought it deserved to be returned." I handed him the cane.

"Well, I'll be- it is rare to encounter a straight-fingered truepenny these days! What a fine gentleman! But I must ask… how did you know I was the rightful owner?"

I deduce Lord Craven swiftly to the conclusion that he is a bored British nobleman.

"Simple deduction. Your cane told me everything I needed to know. I was after a strong middle-aged man, with a keen interest in adventure, noble blood, and affection for strong drinks. And if one were to go further, one may even be able to extrapolate your name from your heraldic symbol… Lord Craven."

"Marvelous! Simply Marvellous! That's me, Lord Andrew Craven! You are the real medium! You hear that, Emma?" He looks at the woman lying on the couch and then back at me.

"Well, you found my cane… perhaps you can locate my diamond too! Yes, you should do it. It will be child's play for you, mister…"

"Holmes. And if a child can do it, then I'm sure the local police can suffice."

"The police!? Why bother? I know this harlequin stole it! The only question is where is it hidden." He turned and walked across the room from me. "Fine, give me my stick, and I'll resolve the matter myself! This thief almost confessed after a single punch."

"Hm. I suspect a beating may result in answers of… questionable veracity. Fine. I shall spare you and he the trouble, if you first answer me this. You insist the medium robbed you during the seance - but what occurred exactly?" Jon seems to be enjoying this as he watches from the corner.

"Bah, it was a dirty trick! We were sitting here in the dark, chanting and holding hands, as expected. Then something began to appear from the medium, like a cloud or a bubble. The swindler called it 'ectoplasm.'"

"Ah, yes. Common in the spiritualist trade. And quite the spectacle."

"Indeed - perhaps too much. My beloved Emma screamed in horror, and I stood to defend her, attacking that cursed ghost!"

"How brave." No sarcasm was noticeable in my voice.

"But my hand hit nothing! The medium jumped away from me, and Emma fainted. I lit the candle - and the diamond was gone!"

"How does a priceless diamond become the subject of a seance? It is an unusual accoutrement."

"Emma wished to speak with its former owners. My grandfather told us it belonged to a rajah- an Indian king."

"So you were summoning long-dead Indian royalty? And, pray tell, you were expecting him to converse in English?"

"To be frank, Mr. Holmes, I don't believe in ghosts. But Emma was fascinated by the idea of meeting a real king… even a dead one."

"Well, a crown is a crown. Can you describe the stone itself?"

"A yellow diamond, not less than a hundred carats, and perfectly egg-shaped. There is not another like it!"

"Stay here, and don't touch anything. I'm going to investigate further."

"Don't fret. I'll be keeping a close eye on this thief."

I started my investigation at the table where the diamond was seen last. In the center of the table, there was a holder for the diamond. A moth brooch was in the medium's coat and a splotch of green ectoplasm was on the table. The broken wine glace had traces of rouge in its edge and a half glass of Balblair scotch along with the remains of a Por Larranaga cigar.

I walked over to the hotel staff member, who thanked me for my help to resolve the situation. Just past him and the doors to another area, a nearly broken hefty chair.

"Is it even possible for one man to lift it?"

Lord Craven suddenly spoke, "At Cambridge, I was captain of the rugby team. It was no place for weaklings."

Time to talk to the medium.

"What happened here?"

"I don't know! The ghost… I summoned it as usual, but then it all went wrong. The lady screamed and pointed at Lord Craven… And there was a shadow! Such a mystical force! It terrified the lady. And it must have taken the diamond - who else could have?"

"Do you feel the presence of any supernatural entities at the moment?"

"Are you joking, sir? My nose is broken, this maniac wants to kill me, and you're asking about the spirits?"

"I suppose this can wait. I will investigate, and the culprit will be identified."

"But this stubborn brute, Lord Craven, blames me right now! As if I could do something like that! Perhaps you can reason with him? Please!"

"Seems like you are ready to delve into your mind palace, Sherry. I'm sure you'll make some good deductions!"

I'll enter my mind palace after I've looked around some more.

"Was this covered on purpose?"

"Of course!" The medium answered, "It is very dangerous to leave a mirror exposed during a seance! The spirits may become enraged.

"Or someone may notice the trick they should not see…" I muttered.

Next to the mirror were skulls littered on a shelf, three human and one animal with a candle.

"How can you not love this stuff, Sherry!? It adds so much atmosphere to the room!"

I looked at Emma on the couch. Her skin was pale, quickened pulse and unsteady breathing.

"She's barely conscious. Bah, the feebleness of women."

"Really, Sherry? Poor thing." Although it was Jon that scolded him, he could almost hear another voice, a more feminine one say it to him. 'How odd.'

_____________________________________________________________

AN: So much dialogue in this game, but I rather keep the majority of the dialogue the same when I can and when I feel up to typing it all out... Probably a few more chapters still till Sherry and y/n meet again. Lowkey forgot how much happened before the case I want to use to reintroduce our childhood friends. If you spot nay mistakes or have any ideas on how I can improve please let me know!

Chapter 3

[fairy-writes]

Can I please request a Mycroft Holmes who’s in his early thirties x fem reader that’s eighteen?

hey hon! i really don't feel comfortable writing this request so i'm going to have to decline. that's at least a ten-year age difference and i'm not comfortable writing something like that. plus! yes reader would be eighteen and yes that's the legal adult age where i'm from, but i still don't think someone that age should be dating someone that much older.

sorry!