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mrs-johansson · 10 months

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Strangers in the night - Scarlett Johansson x Fem!Reader

Part 20:

“Today we are joined by an amazing actress, director, and screenwriter. You’ve seen her in films like Red Sparrow, Lady Bird, and the Divergent trilogy. Please welcome, Y/n Cole,” called out James Corden and I walked out from the back.

I sat on the sofa and before we started he introduced the other guest. Ellen fucking Pompeo. “Oh my god hi,” I stood up and Ellen spread her arms with a wide smile. “Hi!” She said and we hugged. “I am fangirling, so sorry,” we all sat down. “I’m guessing you’re a Grey’s Anatomy fan, Y/n,” started James. “Are you kidding? I live and breathe by Grey’s Anatomy,” I said and the crowd laughed along with Ellen. “It’s season 15 now, who is your favorite character at the moment?” “Ugh… I looove Meredith,” I glanced at Ellen and she smiled. “I truly think since Derek died, she’s a better character in general. I love Jo, oh Amelia, she’s the best. Alex is one of my favorites too, along with Bailey. I can’t choose!” I sighed and shook my head. “Do you watch the show often?” Asked James. “Oh yeah. Very often. Actually, I made my girlfriend watch it with me, so we started at the beginning,” I said, already nervous about what was coming now that I mentioned Scarlett. James saw the opportunity and with a smile, he started talking. “Now that you’ve mentioned, you just went public with your girlfriend who’s none other than Scarlett Johansson,” he said and the crowd erupted in cheers and I just shyly smiled. “I was genuinely surprised when I saw your post. I haven’t heard any rumors or that kind of talk around the two of you,” he said. “That was a struggle, believe me,” I chuckled, and then so did the crowd. “We did our very best to lay low at all times. And we just shot Jojo Rabbit so it was very important for us not to look like we’re just trying to promote the movie, so we just laid low for a while now.” “But you’re happy?” Asked James and I smiled very widely just knowing how happy I actually am. “I can’t even describe how happy I am. It just feels… right,” I explained even though I could barely put my feelings into words.

***

“Please water them Scar, they're gonna die if you don’t,” I basically whined as she helped me move my suitcases into the car outside. “I will water your plants every day,” she let the suitcase over to my driver who put it in the truck. “Thank you,” I said and he sat behind the wheel. “Have fun and text me when you can. I’ll bring Rose when I can,” Scarlett took my hands. Smiling cutely. “I will. I’ll miss you but it’s gonna be fun when I come home,” I smiled and she nodded. “It sure will.” “Okay, I need to leave. I love you,” I gave her a long kiss before pulling her in a hug. “I love you too.”

I got into the car and we made our way to the airport where I got on the plane and took off to Massachusetts.

On the plane I’ve read the script multiple times, memorizing my bigger parts.

When I touched down I checked into the hotel and because we have a tight schedule, the table read was just 2 hours after my landing.

Getting all my essentials for the rest of the day and I was at the office in no time.

I don’t think I’ve ever been so comfortable going into a new project. I’ve worked with the director before, I’ll have Flo there and Timmy, and the only thing I was nervous about is Meryl Streep. I don’t think I need to explain that.

I walked into the room and I spotted Florence right away, who was speaking to Emma Watson and Eliza Scanlen. There was Greta Gerwig at the front table talking with probably the producers. I didn’t see Timothée anywhere so I quickly texted him but then I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder. I turned around and I was faced with the icon herself, Meryl Streep. “I didn’t mean to scare you, sorry. I just wanted to say hi, before we start,” she said and I was just standing there, my mouth dry. The next thing I know something just hit me in the back. Like a crumpled piece of paper. Quickly cleaned my throat and answered. “Sorry,” I chuckled. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’m such a big fan of yours, but I’m sure you get this from everyone,” I mumbled, trying to not faint. “Oh well, it’s not the same from everyone, so thank you. But, I must say I’m also a fan of your work. Red Sparrow was amazing,” said MERYL STREEP. I can’t wait to tell my dad about this. “Wow, uhm… thank you so much. It means a lot,” I smiled and with a hand on my shoulder once again she stepped away and went over to Greta. Timmy literally jumped to my side and I’m sure he heard everything because he had a big smile on his face, his eyebrows almost meeting with his hairline from the excitement. “That was siiick,” he whisper-yelled and shook me by the shoulders. “I just can’t believe that happened,” I said. I spoke with everyone a little, and I was really excited about this movie.

After we all got our seats, Greta spoke a few words and we started.

We had such a great time. Everyone was laughing and when something emotional happened we all paid attention to those who were in the scene.

Around 8 pm we finished and it was amazing. We all had great chemistry with each other so I think this is gonna work out really well.

“Do you guys want to go have dinner? I know a great place,” I suggested and most of them accepted the invite.

Timothée, Florence and I got into one car and Emma, Eliza, James and Laura into the other one. Laura needed a little convincing to tag along because she said “I’m too old to go with all of you”, but she’s way too cool not to come with us.

We all fell into conversation pretty quickly as we got to the restaurant. Everyone was talking to someone and I think everyone felt comfortable with one another. “So you get to experience both Noah and Greta’s directing methods, that must be interesting,” I said to Laura who was sitting next to me. “Yeah, it’s so fun. Both of them are so different but I’m sure they’ll have some similarities.” “You guys shot the whole of Marriage Story on film, right?” “Yes, but I’m sure Scarlett told you all about it,” she smiled cheekily. I smiled shyly and nodded. “She did, yeah. I love the story so much, it’s just so full of love and your character just seems so fun and cool,” I said. “It is an amazing story. Noah did such a great job with the script. But let’s not talk about work in off time too, I could barely get Scarlett away from her phone while working,” she bumped her shoulder to mine and I just smiled. “I uhm… we talked a lot that time yeah,” I said and Laura smiled knowingly. “Ah well her smile was different. She was happy and glowing. I think you surprised everyone, but I could tell it’s genuine. I’m glad you have each other.”

***

“Hello?” Heard the voice over the phone. “Scarlett? Baby, hi,” I mumbled as I saw her beautiful face on the screen. “Okay, you’re drunk. First day went well then,” she chuckled adorably. “It was so fun! Oh my God, Meryl Streep is amazing. She said Red Sparrow was amazing. Funny because I’m naked in that one,” I said while taking my dress off, but I accidentally stumbled onto the couch. “Careful there.” “I’m fine,” I threw the dress on the floor and made my way to the bed. “Take off your makeup before you go to bed, baby,” said Scarlett over the phone. “I don’t want to though,” I whined as I sat on the fluffy bed. “You’ll thank me tomorrow.” “Fine,” I sighed and moved to the bathroom. “How was your day?” I mumbled as I fidgeted with my skincare bag. “It was good. We had some reshoots for Endgame so it was fun,” she said. “Oh don’t tell me any spoilers or I’m gonna cry,” I started to take my makeup off. “I won’t, I won’t. I think you’re gonna like it though.” “Yeah? I’m sure you’ll look hot in it so I’m not worried,” I smirked at the screen and she just laughed. “I’ve never seen you this drunk before, how much did you have?” “Just a couple glasses to be honest,” I shrugged. “Aha, I’m not so sure about that.” “I’m telling you, it wasn’t a lot.” “If I text Laura, are you sure she’s gonna say the same thing?” I glanced down at the phone and a smile pulled on my lips. “No.” “Yeah, that’s what I thought, but I’m glad you’re already having fun. I’m sure it’s gonna be a great shoot.” “Oh my god, yeeees. I love everyone so much,” I threw the makeup wipes in the trash and rinsed my face with cold water before going back to the bedroom. “Take a painkiller in case this all goes to hell. And drink a lot of water.” “I’ve been drunk before, I know how this works Mom,” I chuckled. “I just want to make sure you’re okay, baby.” “I know, I know. Thank you for that,” I blew a kiss towards the screen. “Always. What’s the plan tomorrow?” She asked. As I could see, she was just lying in bed with glasses and a big sweatshirt on. The TV reflected from her glasses making it a bit difficult to see her eyes. “Rehearsals for the next week and just after that we start shooting. But I can’t waaaait, I’m so excited for this one. I just know that it’s gonna be so so good and fun,” I laid down in bed and pulled the covers up to my chin. “I’m excited for you and to see it. Have you done a period movie yet, I don’t think so, right?” “Not this old, no. The latest was the Gatsby I think,” I yawned while trying hard to focus on the conversation. “You should go to bed, Y/n,” Scarlett said as she got up from her bed. “I really should but I love talking to my girlfriend, she’s kinda fun you know,” I rolled over to my stomach, trying to get comfortable. “Yeah? Well, your girlfriend is not going anywhere so you can speak to her whenever you’re free.” “I know,” I said slowly, just looking at the screen and admiring how amazing she was. “I love you,” I said, still feeling the booze. “I love you too, you drunk. Go to bed, honey. Text me when you wake up, okay?” She said softly with the cutest smile on her face. “I will. I love you.” “I love you too, sleep well.” “You too.”

***

All the cast members filled up the room as we were waiting for Greta. Florence on my right side and Timothée on the left. Sunglasses on both of their faces, sliding off their chairs, heads tilted back. “How are you not dead?” Murmured Timmy as he pulled the hood of his sweater over his head. “I have an amazing girlfriend who takes care of me. And you crazy people just downed every glass you found on the table,” I gave him a bottle of water. “Thanks.”

“Alright everybody, I hope you had a good night's sleep. Today is like to go through some of the bigger monologues so we can work on those if it’s necessary,” Greta explained and as I looked at my friends, I quietly chuckled. “Today’s gonna be fun.”

#gxg #scarlett johansson x you #scarlett johansson x female reader #scarlett johansson x reader #scarlett johansson imagines #scarlett johansson #timothee chamalet #florence pugh

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lokisrealpurpous · 11 months

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about me

my names amelia and I'm 17 years old, I play the guitar and the piano and love to write and draw. I love cats, like love cats, especially black ones! I play netball and I used to play football and I own a fairly popular marvel tiktok account which I'm trying to grow. If you've came from my tiktok pleasee comment :)

My kins are loki and sherlock and they're, I hate to say it, but my comfort characters. I also love BBC sherlock and Marvel.

My favourite colours are dark wine red and dark moody green and I love abandoned places and plants and going out at night. Despite being a little scared of them thunderstorms have my heart and listening to heavy rain with my headphones on.

Dior perfume and silver/pearl jewlery has my heart guys

My aesthetic in 10 photos 🙀

Y2k, old money, downtown girl, grunge.

My music taste:

To be added to my taglist just ask! I'll be posting headcannons, fanfics and alot more ♡

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spicyfoodboi · 4 years

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hi!! your blog is amazing i live your writing so much!! but i was wondering if you could write how akaashi, giyuu and oikawa would react or ask out their crush who is a tsundere who also has feelings for them. (i hope that makes sense) thank you so much! hope you have a great day hun.

a secret softie

Genre: fluff

A tooru oikawa and keiji akaashi x reader

a/n: hey guys! This is going to be a bit short so please forgive me! I'm currently swamped with school work and making time for it while watching watson amelia's stream (yes, the vtuber) thank you anon for the wonderful request! so yeah! Please enjoy!!

Tooru oikawa

Out of all the sweet fangirls he has, he fell for someone hard to get.

It was like he was dealing with iwa-chan while courting you.

You would hit and yell at him to stay away.

But with the blush on your cheeks, it was obvious you like him.

LOVES TEASING YOU!

He would go out of his way to tease you with anything he can grasp onto.

"you are so cute (y/n)-chan! Especially when you blush just for me- OOOOWWWW I'M SORRY!!"

He became your punching bag, to be honest.

One day, you got a letter to meet you at the back of the school.

You go there and see oikawa, hands behind his back.

You blushed but tried to hide it by rolling your eyes.

You walked over to see he was blushing as well.

"okay make it quick," you said.

To be honest, you didn't really mind staying here with him.

He just takes out a small letter from behind and lets you read it while he starts his speech.

"(y/n), even though you beat me up for most of the time. Even If you say you don't like me, I'll be here for you. I like you (y/n). I like like you. You don't have to like me. I know I can be-"

You cut him off by pulling him into a lingering kiss.

It made both of you beet red but you didn't care.

He was the first one to pull away out of shock.

You can see the smile slowly growing on his face.

"aaawww! So you do love me!!" he said, pulling you into a hug.

You grumble but you wrap your arms around him anyways.

"I love you," you whispered, so only he could hear.

"what was that, baby?"

"NOTHING, YOU DUMMY!"

Keiji akaashi

He would silently admire you at a distance.

He usually observes your behavior.

How would you hit the boys who tried to court you.

How you would bake him cookies and make him bento boxes but tell him you just cooked too much and you had extras.

How you would blush while you mutter something incoherently.

Will be blunt about telling you're obvious

"do you like me?"

"of course not, you idiot!"

But your blush was clear to him.

He just shrugs and goes on with his day.

He finds a letter in one of his novels so he goes out to the back of the school to meet up with his secret admirer.

He sees you, holding a new novel, one of his favorite genres, and a red rose peaking out of the book.

You walked up to him, your face was hot as you bowed and handed him the book with the rose.

He smiled, patting your head.

"you don't have to force yourself into proclaiming your love. I already know. And I like you too (y/n)."

you looked up, cheeks puffed up as you pushed his hand off f your head.

His smile was radiating, making you smile too.

He wraps around you.

You do the same, melting into his touch.

Hey guys! I love bby akaashi so much!! Oikawa is so fun to write for so I loved writing this so much. Requests are very open for haikyuu so please don't be shy, I'm craving to write more haikyuu stuff! Love you guys 💖❤💕💞

#Haikyuu x reader #oikawa x reader #akaashi x reader #Haikyu x reader #Haikyu!! X reader #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #tooru oikawa #tooru #oikawa #tooru oikawa x reader #tooru x reader #tooru oikawa fanfiction #keiji akaashi #keiji #akaashi #keiji akaashi x reader #keiji x reader #keiji akaashi fanfiction

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allaroundcringey · 4 years

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Dependency ~ Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 1 ~ The Phone Call

Pairing : Sherlock x Female Reader

Summary : After a few years John Watson was left no choice but to call his old school mate Amelia Harold. The matter of the call you ask? Sherlock's drug problem. What started out as a simple phone call to help out his friend turned out to be so much more: it gave Amelia Harold a chance to find out who deemed her father guilty of murder. Full of friendship, truth, heartbreak, suspense, and love this story showcases what matters most in life: your friends and family.

Warnings : mention of drug abuse, addiction, and emotional abuse in later chapters

A/N : this is the first chapter of many to come- I thoroughly hope you enjoy! FYI, this story begins in series 1 episode 3. Oh and this chapter is a bit short since it's mainly to introduce the characters, but later chapters will have more content. Let me know what you think of it / future predictions for this fic ;)

***I do not own any of these characters, plot ideas, and lines taken directly from the show (though there are only a few of those) anything pertaining to Amelia is my original work.***

Amelia Harold awoke to the scrutinizing sunlight looking down on her through the bedroom window. With a glare she slowly tried to wake herself up. Mornings were always the worst- the idea of getting up nearly pained her. Facing another day with new monsters was not an appealing idea. More than anything she wished she could simply lay in bed all day to avoid said monsters.

Life had other plans though as her phone started to buzz against her bed stand. Groaning she reached her hand for it to see who would be calling at such an ungodly hour. Upon seeing the caller ID she sat straight up in bed.

Having not spoken to him in what seemed like years seeing John Watson pop up on her phone screen surprised her. Immediately curious as to what was about to transpire she answered the call.

"John Watson, is it really you?!"

"Yes I'm afraid it is- sorry for calling so early in the morning." John said, sounding apologetic.

"If it's a call from you I don't care the hour of day. How have you been since we last spoke?" It had been years since they last ran into each other, and even then they hadn't have had a proper chat.

"I've been good, definitely busy though."

"Ah yes I've been reading your blog actually! Sherlock Holmes seems like quite the guy to be mates with."

"I'm most certainly never bored to say the least. He's actually part of the reason I'm calling besides the fact to catch up of course." John mentioned with a chuckle.

"Hm, interesting. Please do go on." Amelia said as she started to leave her bed to get a cup of tea.

"It's easier if I explain in person. Are you doing anything today?"

"I have work until 5pm but after that I'm completely free. What time should we meet?"

"Just come around anytime. The address is 221B Bakerstreet. I'll meet you outside to bring you in."

"Sounds good John. I can't wait to see you." And with that Amelia hung up the phone.

She set the kettle on the stove to start boiling for tea and left to get changed. Going back into her room where her wardrobe was she chose a simple t-shirt and jeans for the day. Quickly brushing her long blonde hair and putting it in a pony tail, she left to take the now boiled kettle of water off the stove.

After finishing her day at work she left to hail a cab to the infamous 221B Baker Street. She had been working with the local news paper as a writer since she finished her schooling. Her father had managed to get her the job because of... how well known he was at the time.

As she stepped out of the cab upon her destination, John was right there as he promised. With a hug, the two past friends were reunited.

"John! I have missed you so much."

"Same here. Come on, let's get you in the flat."

As they walked up the stairs of 221B John spoke up.

"I should warn you that Sherlock is not the ordinary. Exactly the opposite to be honest."

"That's fine in my books. You know I'm not one to settle for the ordinary John." Amelia replied just as they stepped foot into the flat. As if on que bullets were fired towards the black and white wall that held a yellow smiley face. Taken aback at first, Amelia slightly jumped. Turning to look who had fired the shots everything came together when she realized it was Sherlock Holmes.

"What the hell are you doing?!" John yelled in response.

"Did he just fire a gun inside the flat?" Amelia questioned at the terrifying behavior.

"Bored!" Sherlock exclaimed repeatedly, seemingly the reason behind the gun shots.

"You get used to it." John sighed, shaking his head as he walked over to the kitchen. On the way he made sure to dismantle Sherlock of the fire arm. Opening the fridge John immediately slammed it closed when he saw the surprise Sherlock had left there. Amelia snickered in John's response to the morbid head.

"I like her." Sherlock said after a moment of silence. As John and Sherlock went on about their recent cases, Amelia went to sit herself in the living room. Seeing that the only chair available was the sleek black one Amelia made her way towards it.

"NO! Not that chair. Any other one but that chair." Sherlock yelled, flailing his arm towards her, while Amelia hovered over the unoccupied chair.

"Why not this-" she started.

"Just because." Sherlock said then quickly started his conversation back up with John. "Look it doesn't matter to me who's sleeping with who."

"Whether the Earth goes around the sun."

"Wait he didn't know the Earth went around the sun? He can solve murder cases that are next to impossible but didn't know simple primary school material?"

"Shockingly enough that's exactly what it comes down to." John replied in response to Amelia.

As John and Sherlock continued their banter, Amelia took a look around the flat. Miscellaneous things were thrown every which way but that's what made the flat feel so right. It wasn't cozy like a grandparents home might be, but it was cozy enough for the people who lived there. Amelia was awoken from her day dream as she heard John get up from where he sat and make his way out the door.

"I'm going out. Amelia we can talk tomorrow. Come over anytime like I said."

Not knowing quite what to do, she stood still as John left. Thankfully before the silence of awkwardness could ensue an old woman entered the flat talking directly to Sherlock until she saw Amelia.

"Oh my! I didn't see you there. I'm Mrs. Hudson, who might you be?"

From the window Sherlock replied for Amelia saying: "She's John's old friend. And by the looks of it her name is Amelia Harold who has a strong media presence pertaining to her father. He was impressive, managed to get away with killing woman in their forties until-"

"Stop that. Now." Amelia curtly stopped Sherlock from finishing whatever he was about to say. With a roll of his eyes Sherlock went back to looking out the window.

Before Mrs. Hudson left to go back downstairs she commented on the fresh holes Sherlock had put in the wall. She couldn't see that he smiled in response but Amelia could from where she was standing. It almost surprised her that he was capable of smiling from the bit of time she had hung around him that evening.

Amelia was about to tell him off for talking about her father but something stopped her- and that something was an explosion.

#sherlock x reader #sherlock fandom #sherlock bbc #bbc sherlock #sherlock #sherlock fanfiction #sherlock fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom #john watson #netflix

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krtrs · 7 years

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Midnight Meetings

Word Count: 2285

Fandom: Sherlock

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Request (s): None

Warning (s): Mentions of drug use

A/N: Hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Hope you have a good day mates. <3

It was a fine night in the city of London, or rather, a fine morning. Three in the morning to be exact. You couldn’t sleep and walking the dark streets and alleys seemed to calm your nerves on nights like this. For some reason, unbeknownst to you, you were different from most people. Walking alone at night, especially in the most abandoned part of the city, was a nightmare for most girls but a dreamland for you. You really were strange.

While out walking the town, you had expected to be alone. Who would be out and about at three am, anyways? Surely no sane person would be caught dead in the streets past eleven. Thus why you were so startled to find a man sitting alone in a dark alleyway. Sure, you had seen homeless people and drunks running along the sidewalk, but this man was different in a way you couldn’t explain, but just knew.

“Mrs Ricoletti!” The strange man shouted out, attempting to stand up against the alley wall. You approached cautiously and grabbed his arm before he fell down.

“Sir? Do you need help?” You asked, gripping onto him. He turned to look at you, his cerulean eyes piercing into you, looking you up and down.

“Mrs Ricoletti, she-she wasn’t dead. Sh-she faked it, she faked it! Ricoletti, Ricoletti, Ricoletti! I get it! I need to get to her grave. Graveyard, dead bride. Amelia Rocoletti. Amelia? Are you Amelia?” The man shouted out, turning away and running his hand through his thick curls while leaning his other arm into you.

“No, sir. I’m not Amelia,” you said. He looked at you, inquisitive.

“Sir, who are you? What’s your name?” You asked.

“Sher … Sherlock,” he said softly as if trying to remember his own name.

“Sherlock Holmes? The detective guy? Is that you?” You asked. You pulled out your mobile and googled the name to get the information you needed. Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective. Featured on the blog of John H. Watson.

“Yes, that’s me,” he said, trying to balance himself. You let go of his arm to continue scrolling through the search.

“Where do you live, Mister Sherlock Holmes?” You asked.

“Uh … 382 Barts Street,” he sputtered out after a second of thought. “Wait, no! 291 Baker Avenue! No, that’s not right either.”

“221B Baker Street. Says right here,” you said, smiling at your phone. A little bit of research never did any harm.

“Yes! That’s it,” he mumbled.

“What did you take tonight?” You asked, knowing he had to have taken something to be in the state.

He reached into his jeans pocket and pulled a piece of paper and handed it to you.

“Dear God, how are you still living Holmes?” You breathed, reading the long list of drugs and pain medications. You handed him back his sheet of paper, not wanting to look at it anymore.

“Evading death is my favourite hobby, he chuckled, trying to take a step forward but stumbling a bit.

“You should be getting home,” you said, grabbing his arm again. With a quick google search, you had the right directions to his flat.

You started walking out of the alley, practically dragging the detective with you.

“Hey, hey you. Name, what’s your name?” Sherlock asked, still dazed.

“(Y/N),” you replied.

“(Y/N),” he repeated slowly as if seeing how the name felt on his tongue. It tasted sweet on his lips.

“Yeah, in the flesh” you chuckled, leading him out into the light.

“What are you doing out this late?” Sherlock asked, seeming to grasp control of himself once again. You loosened your grip but let your hand rest on his forearm just in case.

“I could ask you the same thing, Mister Holmes,” you replied.

“Well played,” he muttered.

“So, are you going to answer me?” You asked.

“It’s for a case,” he said from memory as if he said it often.

“Hmm, okay then,” you said.

“Do you want to get some chips? I’m starving,” he asked. You thought for a second before replying.

“Yeah sure, I don’t see why not. Maybe it will give you some time to sober up.”

“Great, I know a 24/7 place just up the road,” Sherlock said. You nodded. He walked ahead of you, fully regaining his balance and his steps becoming more solid.

“Slow down Roadrunner. Calm yourself, we’ll get there when we get there,” you laughed as he walked faster.

“Alright. Just wondering, has anyone ever told you how impossible it is to read you? I’m trying to deduce you but there’s nothing to deduce, are you real?” Sherlock asked.

“Um, no, but … thanks?” You said, tilting your head in confusion.

“No, no, it isn’t a compliment, it’s quite frustrating,” Sherlock corrected.

“Oh,” you replied, glumly.

“It’s wasn’t meant as an insult, either. It was just an observation,” Sherlock added quickly.

“Alright smarty, has anyone ever told you that you are a terrible conversationalist?” You asked.

“Oh yes, it’s all they ever seem to say,” he chuckled. You laughed.

“No, you can’t possibly be that bad,” you said. He shook his head.

“You can think that,” he mumbled.

“Is this it?” You asked, pointing up to the lit sign above you.

“Oh, yeah,” he said, opening the door for you. The man at the counter eyes you suspiciously as you ordered you chips.

“So, you say you can’t ‘deduce’ me? What does that mean?” You asked as you took a seat in the far corner of the little cafe.

“I can read people like books. I notice little things that show the hidden character of a person. The way they speak or look or act makes everything blatantly obvious for me,” he explained. You were fairly certain that he was mostly sober now, though you had your doubts.

“Can you do it to anybody?”

“Everybody,” he confirmed.

“Except me.”

“Yes. Except you, for some reason.”

“Prove it,” you challenged.

“Hmm, alright,” Sherlock glanced around the room before stopping to gaze at the man behind the counter. He smirked. “That man over there. You can see it in the way he looks around, he’s upset we’re here. He wants to leave, he keeps looking at his watch. He’s eager to meet someone, you can tell because he keeps checking his phone for texts. He is wearing a wedding ring, but it is in disrepair, that alone shows the state of his marriage. So obviously, he is hiding that he is cheating. He wants us to leave so he can go and visit his mistress without his wife becoming suspicious of his whereabouts, it’s probably why he chose to work at night.”

“Mm, impressive,” you said.

“Yes, I know,” Sherlock smiled. You laughed.

“Self-assured, are we?” You teased.

“You could say that,” he replied, resting his hands in a prayer position under his chin.

“These chips are really good,” you said, attempting to make small talk, his eyes never leaving your form.

“Yes, they are, aren’t they?” Sherlock muttered, observing your movement as you ate. He took a few as well, stuffing them in his mouth to occupy himself.

“You alright?” You asked, noticing his dazed look.

“What?” he asked before processing what you’d said. You giggled softly at his unawareness. “Oh, yes, I’m fine. Just thinking.”

“C’mon, Mister Holmes. Let’s get you back to your flat already,” you smiled, standing up and throwing the empty basket into the rubbish bin. He sighed and followed you out the door.

“221B Baker Street,” he reminded.

“I remember it, don’t worry,” you said, running a hand through your hair and looking at the directions to the flat on your mobile. It wasn’t all that far away.

The detective followed closely behind you before catching up as you made your way down the street. He tried making small talk but was in too fuzzy a state to hold up a normal conversation. He gave up and resorted to just looking at you silently as you walked. You noticed but tried to ignore it.

“Here we are,” you said a few minutes later, arriving at a door with the right address labelled in bright gold lettering.

“Home sweet home,” he said, taking his hand out of his jacket pocket to retrieve a key from his jeans. He unlocked the door and walked in. You stayed on the street.

“Well, this has been wonderful Mister Sherlock Holmes, but I should be getting home,” you said, waving awkwardly.

“Yeah, bye,” he said, smiling just a bit.

You blushed, looking down. You let yourself linger just a bit longer, not wanting to leave.

“I wish to see you again,” he stated suddenly.

“Are you being serious? ” you asked sceptically, looking back up at him.

“Mhm, of course, I am. Give me your phone,” he demanded.

“Er … yeah, okay,” you said, slowly handing over the mobile.

After a moment of him typing something, he handed you back the device. You looked at the screen and saw that he had put his number in your phone and texted himself so he had yours.

“Okay,” you mumbled.

“You’re interesting. Unlike everyone, I’ve ever met. I like it,” he said. You smiled.

“I’m going to take that as a compliment,” you said.

“Good, that’s what I was going for,” he replied with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Sherlock? Is that you?” A male voice shouted from farther back in the flat. Sherlock sighed.

“Yes, John. Didn’t know you were awake,” he shouted back. A pair of footsteps could be heard plundering down the hallway and a short man with blond hair appeared in your vision.

“What the hell were you doing out so bloody late? It’s past midnight! And where were you?” John demanded. Sherlock sighed again, ignoring the questions to turn back to you.

“You seem to be in trouble with your flatmate,” you joked. He laughed dryly.

“Yeah,” he said.

“Who is that?” John asked, walking closer to look at you.

“John, this is (Y/N). (Y/N), this is John,” Sherlock introduced.

“Oh, hello. Do you want to come inside?” John asked.

“No thank you, sir. I should really be going now. I was just helping him get home before he did something even more stupid than the list he has in his pocket,” you said. “It was nice meeting you.”

“Yeah, you too,” John said, stepping back to search Sherlock's jacket pockets. He grabbed the list and began to read it, leaving Sherlock time to say his goodbyes.

“Farewell, Sherlock,” you smiled

“Good day, (Y/N),” he said. “I’ll text you.”

“I’d like that,” you replied. He smiled again. You liked it when he smiled.

“Alright, Sherlock, now you need to explain to me why you thought this was okay,” John interrupted, pulling the detective by the arm. You laughed and shook your head as you walked away, pulling the door shut as you left. He had a lot to answer for and he knew it.

You felt your heart soar as you went over everything that had occurred in the past hour or so. You had just met the most genius man you had ever seen. And he was attractive, too. An added bonus. You were shocked that he wanted to see you again. You were just an ordinary person, in your mind. But. if you really think about it, what normal person is out so late at night? None you knew.

You sighed as you realised how far you were from your flat. It would take the rest of the night to get back, you figured.

Your stomach filled with butterflies as you heard your name being shouted down the street. You turned to look and saw Sherlock half hanging out his doorframe, calling you back. You made your way down the street.

“Stay the night. It’s late and you’re alone,” Sherlock said as you made it back. You blushed as he pulled you into his flat.

“Don’t you have to deal with John?” You asked.

“He can wait until the morning for explanations. You need a place to stay, and I have a bed for you to sleep on. There should be some pyjamas in the wardrobe that will fit you,” Sherlock explained.

“I can sleep on the sofa,” you offered.

“Nonsense. Use my bedroom, I’m not going to sleep anytime soon,” Sherlock argued.

“Alright, fine. But only for a little while. I’ll leave first thing in the morning,” you said, shaking your head.

“If you insist,” he said. You smiled as he lead you back through the apartment to the bedroom.

“Here you go,” he said, opening the door for you.

“Thank you, Sherlock, really,” you said.

“I should be thanking you. Who knows what I would have done if you hadn’t brought me back home. Probably something illegal,” Sherlock joked. You smiled.

Just then, a wave of courage rushed through you and you reached up on your tiptoes to place a light kiss on his cheek. His face flushed red and he smiled before giving a little bow as he closed the door behind him when he left you to yourself.

“Goodnight, (Y/N),” you heard him mumble before he disappeared behind the heavy door.

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allaroundcringey · 4 years

Text

Dependency ~ Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 3 ~ Tea and Biscuits

Pairing : Sherlock x Female Reader

Warnings : mention of drug abuse, addiction, and emotional abuse at some points

***I do not own any of these characters, plot ideas, and lines taken directly from the show (though there are only a few of those) anything pertaining to Amelia is my original work.***

Feeling the unfamiliarity of her surroundings, Amelia slowly opened her eyes to the 221B apartment. She was thankful she was waking up here instead of alone in her flat. Today was already hard enough and she was thankful for the support while she had it.

Swiftly cutting off her thought process, the smell of fresh tea filled her nostrils. Never being able to resist a cup of tea, she picked herself up off the couch and wandered over to where the smell originated. Nearly stopping in her tracks, Amelia was astonished at the sight in front of her.

Sherlock had two mugs set on the table and he was pouring the tea he had just brewed into them. Questioning if the second cup was for her or John she was answered when Sherlock picked the mug up and handed it to her. Cautiously taking the cup Amelia was suspicious of the detectives intentions with the tea.

"Did you lace this with something? What is it?" Amelia said as she held the cup up to her nose to smell.

"It's just a cup if tea. And these are a plate of biscuits in case you have trouble identifying those as well." He then set the plate on the side of the crowded table, not looking amused at her accusations.

"Very funny."

Settling into a kitchen chair, Sherlock moved his science equipment to make more space so he, along with Amelia apparently, could enjoy their breakfast. Gesturing toward the other empty chair with his hand Amelia took it as an invitation to sit down. Slowly lowering herself into the chair she sat stiffly, unsure of Sherlock's nature that morning.

His acts of kindness seemingly came out of nowhere. To Amelia is was almost like a sign from above, whatever is up there showing her that today would be okay. She was safe with Sherlock and John.

As if she had summoned him by thinking of his name, John entered the flat. Surprise written over his face at the sight before him he spoke up.

"Who did this?"

"I did." Sherlock replied blankly, although there was a hint of pride in his voice.

"Why?"

"I would also like to know why." Amelia added.

"Can't I just do something without people needing to know my intentions?" Sherlock moved his free arm around in the air in a fit of frustration.

"No." Both John and Amelia stated firmly at the same time.

"Can I have a cuppa?" John asked Sherlock.

"Get it yourself." He then decided to hide his face behind that days newspaper.

John walked over to where the kettle Sherlock used was only to be welcomed by the emptiness that had been left behind. Annoyed, John poured new water in and put it to a boil.

Sherlock's phone started to ring, interrupting their breakfast. Standing up from his chair and moving across the living room to answer it, the call ended up being brief with only a few words extanged.

"Lestrade has summoned us John. Matters on the bomber case." Sherlock delivered the results of the phone call while straightening his jacket out on his body.

"Amelia are you coming along?" John questioned, which received a slight glare from Sherlock which was quickly taken back when he saw Amelia was watching him. John noticed it and found it odd, but decided it better not to comment on it.

"No thank you, I have plans for the day. I'll catch up with you guys later." She lifted her mug up slightly to wave them goodbye as they left the flat.

Hearing the last of the boy's foot steps Amelia let herself release a breath she didn't realize she was holding. It was refreshing and all to be actively hanging out with friends (or friend singular rather than plural, she wasn't sure about Sherlock yet) again but she forgot how hard it was to keep a persona on, to make sure people thought she was fine.

Setting her empty cup in the sink, she entered the bathroom to freshen up a bit before the day ahead of her. Looking under the sink for a washcloth, her hand came across something that was taped on the underside of the sink. Pulling it off, she examined what she picked up.

It had been a pack of cigarettes taped haphazardly with duck tape in the sink. John had mentioned last night how Sherlock has secret stashes, but he was under the impression Sherlock had gotten rid of them all. Amelia decided she would confront Sherlock about it first before John later on. Not to necessarily go behind his back, but she wanted to give Sherlock a chance to do things on his own first before involving John.

Feeling the uneven ground beneath her feet, Amelia made her way through the pathways that were naturally made over the years in the cemetary. She could truthfully find her way to where she was going blindfolded, or even ripped of all senses. She had it memorized by now.

Breathing in the smell of the air, she couldn't get past the smell her memories flooded her with. On the day of the funeral it had just rained the night before. It left behind a fresh, cool smell that tingled her senses anytime she thought about it.

Reaching her desired grave she took a moment to stare at it. After years Amelia still didn't know how to feel. Happy or sad. Angry or peaceful. It was an internal battle every time she thought about it. Which was often.

Like she did every year, Amelia reached down and took the flowers out of their holder. No one she knew would bother to replace them so she assumed the people who took care of the cemetary put the generic cheap flowers on everyone's grave stones. She tossed them aside for now until she could get to a trash can to properly dispose of them. Amelia decided to sit down on the ground in front of the grave.

Her mother was never the nicest to anyone, especially Amelia. Her death day was always a nagging reminder of what Amelia's life was like when she was still around- which weren't the most pleasant of memories. Amelia remembered how the two of them never got along since she was young, no matter what the subject matter was. Her father was always the mediator. Once he was convicted there was no one there to calm them down when things amplified- that's when things got really bad.

Overwhelmed with her memories, a tear slipped from Amelia's eyes. Her breathing started to pick up. She wasn't completely unfamiliar with the defense her body put up against her trauma since the same series of events had happened anytime she thought about her past too much. Before she knew it the tears became quicker and heavier, nearing a sob.

Then she heard the sound of someone moving across the ground behind her. Quickly composing herself so whoever was going to eventually pass by wouldn't pay any attention to her, she was hit with a surprise as she felt a hand on her shoulder.

Jumping up to a standing position from the scare, she turned and faced the man who was before her. She didn't expect Sherlock Holmes to find her at her mother's grave on the anniversary of her death. She didn't want him to find her. She didn't want anyone to find her. Or did she?

"I need you at the lab. John's busy and I acquire help on a case." Sherlock said, hiding any emotion he might have had. Amelia couldn't read his body language so he simply was just someone who needed her help.

Only mustering a nod, they slowly made their way to the street to hail a cab. Sherlock stood by her side but made sure to give her a good amount of distance. Amelia didn't want to talk, but she felt like she should say something.

"How did you find me?" She said just above a whisper, only loud enough for him to hear. By this time they were stepping into the cab that Sherlock had been able to get with only one wave of his arm.

"Your necklace."

"My necklace?" Amelia questioned, now speaking louder out of confusion.

"Last night the only piece of jewelry on your body was that necklace," he pointed at the one that hung around her neck at that time, "and it is clearly something you wouldn't buy. You aren't the type to buy jewelry in any circumstance let alone for yourself. So that means it must have been given to you. Last night you opted not to go home but any other time you've been around the flat that late you had still chosen to take a cab home. That means you purposely wanted to stay there. Along with that this morning you managed to not comment a single rude remark at anything me or John did, not that you're prone to them but any time I'm in your presence one always slips out. Those facts combined with you wearing that necklace only on these series of days means that today has some sort of importance to you. Considering that the necklace was given to you a strong possibility would be the death of a loved one. Female by the looks of the jewelry. Since you have no siblings it must be your mother. After some research online I found the cemetary she was buried at."

Amelia was astonished by Sherlock's deductions. She felt almost naked. He had managed to read through her facade she worked so hard to perfect on days like this. Not wanting to acknowledge the facts that Sherlock had spit out as if he were reading scripture, Amelia just nodded and turned her head to look out the window of the cab.

Before the ride could end, Amelia made a split second decision to speak up.

"Thank you." Amelia blurted out. Her facial expression was blank, but her eyes were open wider than on any other occasion. She looked into Sherlock's eyes after she had said that to see him looking back.

"We're almost to the lab. Molly gave me the keys." Sherlock said avoiding responding to Amelia.

"Who's Molly?" Amelia inquired, thankful for the subject change.

"She works at St. Barts. I've known her for a while." Sherlock replied. Amelia noted how he didn't give any details on what his relationship was with her.

Just then the cab came to a stop before Amelia could continue learning about Molly. She didn't know why in the pit of her stomach she had this weird feeling when Sherlock mentioned her name. She couldn't make out what the feeling was or what it meant. Pushing it down to ignore it, the two of them made their way to the lab.

Amelia sat on the counter behind Sherlock, observing him study various materials under a microscope. With every movement he made he did so with the utmost delicacy he could manage. It completely contradicted how he treated other things in his life. She found it fascinating watching him work.

He had not once asked for her help yet so Amelia had to choke down the thought that maybe Sherlock was acting human for once- rare from what John described of him, but Amelia was starting to accept the fact that Sherlock had a facade also.

She saw what was so appealing in Sherlock to John. Amelia had always known John had a type for friends since they became close. No ordinary person would stick with someone who had as much trauma as she did. Most people would find excuses to remove themselves from her life but John always stayed. At least until Amelia removed herself from his.

Although John admitted he had waited to call Amelia until he needed something the other night she knew deep down that wasn't by choice. When Amelia reached the peak of all the stress she could handle she pushed John away in an effort to isolate herself. Push him away before he pushed her away. Her mind had fogged right and wrong. That's why she pushed John away. Him calling her the other day had been a wake up call for her brain. In the years they hadn't talked Amelia felt like she gained some control over her mind again. Although, like anyone else, she still had bad days.

"Hello? Are you still here?" Sherlock snapped pulling Amelia back to the real world.

"I'm sorry what did you say?" Amelia blinked a few times to refocus her attention on Sherlock.

"I said I always get one thing wrong. What was it?" He explained, turning his seat around to fully face her.

"In your deduction?"

"Yes of course my deduction."

"I did buy the necklace. Not for myself though. For my mum."

"Of course. The necklace." Sherlock shook his head from disappointment in himself.

"The rest was right though. To the dot."

Just then the pink phone started to ring against the lab table. Sherlock glanced away from Amelia to pick up the phone. After the other end spoke for a moment he responded.

"Why are you giving me a hint?" Before ending the call with "Why don't you just talk to me yourself?"

Once he set the pink phone down Sherlock picked up the petri dish he had been studying and smiled at it.

"Are you coming along?" He asked without taking his gaze away from what he held in his hand.

"No I think I'm going to head back to my flat. I'll see you and John soon enough." And without looking back Sherlock left the lab, his bum seemingly on fire after the hint he received.

The next morning Amelia, John, and Sherlock found themselves sitting at a table inside the cafe next to 221B. John and Amelia faced Sherlock at the table they sat in. As usual Sherlock opted not to eat anything while John and Amelia shared a plate of various breakfast foods. Amelia had recieved a text from John that morning inviting her to breakfast, and she didn't want to turn down his offer for one reason: to talk to Sherlock about the cigarettes she found.

"Has it occurred to you-" John said to start a conversation.

"Probably." Sherlock interrupted, not being able to contain his attitude.

"That they're just messing with you." John punctuated every word in his sentence.

On the pink phone a text alert popped up as if expected since Sherlock's hand was already reaching for it. Laying it on the table for the 3 of them to view, although Amelia found it was pushed closer towards John than her, a womans face appeared across the screen.

John took a long sigh before saying "Lucky for you Sherlock, me and Mrs. Hudson watch way too much telly." He then proceeded to stand from his chair, making his way past Amelia over to the television the cafe had. While he changed the channel, Amelia took her chance to talk to Sherlock.

"Hey," Amelia tapped the table in front of Sherlock to get his attention, "John told me you had no secret stashes. I found one under the sink the other day. I know you don't take bullshit so I'm going to be straight up with you- are you still clean?"

After a moment of silence and reflection, he grumbled without eye contact a "Yes."

"I can tell for a fact that's not a true statement but I'll pretend that it never happened. As long as you try and stay clean." Amelia finished her ultimatum to Sherlock just as John had returned from changing the telly.

The pink phone rang again but this time it was a phone call, which Sherlock picked up.

"Hello." John and Amelia extanged a worried look before Sherlock continued.

"Why are you doing this?" Then the phone call ended as Sherlock practically threw the phone on the table.

"I'm off to work. You mates clearly have something to pursue. Have a good day." Amelia said as she sat up and gathered her things to leave.

"You have a good day as well. Come around anytime." John responded as he gave Amelia a hug. Sherlock sat in concentration so the most Amelia received was a nod.

Walking out the cafe's front door Amelia thought to herself that her adventure with Holmes and Watson had just begun. And she couldn't wait for it to continue.

#sherlock x reader #sherlock fandom #sherlock bbc #bbc sherlock #sherlock #sherlock fanfiction #sherlock fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #john watson #holmes and watson

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allaroundcringey · 4 years

Text

Dependency ~ Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 2 ~ Eavesdropping

Pairing : Sherlock x Female Reader

Warnings : mention of drug abuse, addiction, and emotional abuse in later chapters

A/N : Just want to pop in and say that I plan on making a master list for this series once I get a few more chapters posted! Also- I think my schedule for posting will be every Sunday since a weeks worth of time ensures I can put out good chapters. If I feel the compulsion to post earlier than that then I will. Enjoy chapter 2!

***I do not own any of these characters, plot ideas, and lines taken directly from the show (though there are only a few of those) anything pertaining to Amelia is my original work.***

Both scattered across the ground due to the velocity of the explosion, Amelia and Sherlock quickly got themselves back together enough to stand up again. Sherlock looking nonchalant, Amelia was forced to question his odd behavior after such an event.

"Does this stuff just... normally happen around here?"

"Yes. Now if you would show yourself out that would be lovely." Sherlock said, flipping his night gown with his hand and heading towards his room. Before he could make it far Amelia stuck out her hand to stop him from going any farther.

"I'll leave when I please. And you'll be polite to me since I am company of John's. And I don't take bullshit from anyone especially from Sherlock Holmes. Understand?"

With a silent nod and look of defeat Sherlock sat back in his chair. Amelia could have left when he told her to since she had no reason to stay but she could not stand Sherlock being rude to her again. The main thought she held was how John was able to put up with such a creature.

In an attempt to clear the silence, Amelia spoke up. Sherlock clearly had the same idea since he started to speak at the same time. With an awkward stare, Sherlock spoke up again.

"Why are you so sensitive about your father?" He said bluntly. In truth he didn't mean for it to sound condescending but like many other things he'd said, especially that night, it did.

"How about you learn to shut your mouth and understand that not everyone is an open book. You definitely aren't." Amelia replied with a scoff.

"I only meant to make conversation." Sherlock snapped. Amelia had had a big enough dose of Sherlock for the night (if not a lifetime) and decided to see herself off. Wondering whether she should say goodbye or simply leave she decided on the latter to avoid more tension.

On her way down the stairs making her way around the corner, she caught a glimpse of Sherlock from where he stood near the window. He looked almost lonely. No, he definitely looked lonely. Contemplating on if she should go back up there he caught her staring and immediately put on a facade and slammed the door shut.

Today being a day off work, Amelia made her way straight to 221B that morning. She peculiarly found that this morning had been the easiest for her to awake since the traumatic events in her early adulthood. Not wanting to acknowledge the sudden, and frankly scary, change she blocked out the thoughts by what today could hold.

Hopefully John could finally have a moment to sit down with her and explain what he had phoned her for in the first place. What on Earth could Sherlock possibly need from her?

Hailing a cab outside her flat she knew that soon enough she would find out.

Pushing her way past the emergency crew outside 221B, Amelia found herself walking up the steps almost as if she had been there many times before. 221B had that affect on people.

When she arrived to the sitting room she found a new face sitting in John's chair. Sherlock of course was sitting in his own chair and John was standing near the desk.

"Hi, did I walk in on something? I'll come back later if you'd like." Amelia spoke directly to John, avoiding the curious gaze the new man cast upon her.

"No it is totally fine. I was just wrapping up anyway. Mycroft Holmes, pleased to meet you." Amelia could tell the smile he put on was fake, and he simply just wanted to get on with the matters that brought him there.

"Amelia Harlod."

"Are you John's girlfriend?" Mycroft asked which received a howl of laughter from John and Amelia.

"Oh my goodness you think I would want to be with this lad?" Amelia laughed, pointing her thumb at John, gasping for breath.

"Mycroft we've been friends since primary school only having recently reconnected again. Nothing of the relationship sorts." John explained so Mycroft could understand.

"Oh. Sorry to imply anything." Somewhat embarrassed, although trying to hide it the best he could, Mycroft turned back to Sherlock. "Maybe you can get through to him John. Or even possibly you Ms. Harold. Sherlock I don't think you understand how urgent this case is."

Tuning out since she felt it wasn't her place to listen, Amelia looked on at the damage that was caused to the flat due to last nights events. All of the previously skewed decorations were truly thrown all over the place now. She questioned whether it was safe to be in the flat at the moment but decided either way it didn't matter. She would have gone in no matter the answer.

Drawn away from her investigation of sorts, she found that Mycroft was getting into the details of the case he wanted Sherlock to take.

"Andrew West was found dead on the train tracks this morning." He stated.

"Tried to kill himself?" John questioned, even though that seemed self explanatory.

"Seems like the ovbious solution but no. West was believed to have held the plans for a missile defense system that are on a memory stick. These are now missing."

"That's not very clever."

"Assuming they have any brain's, it's not the only copy." Amelia added into the conversation, with a look of approval from Mycroft.

"Yes. Indeed that is the case." Turning his attention from John and Amelia he faced Sherlock. "You need to find these plans brother. Don't make me order you."

"I'd like to see you attempt that." Sherlock answered with an eye roll.

"Think on it." Mycroft insisted, that seeming to be his goodbye to his brother. Walking towards John he shook his hand and said his departures to him.

"Goodbye Ms. Harold it was nice to meet you. I hope I'll be seeing more of you." Mycroft added then promptly left the flat.

Annoyingly Sherlock played an ear splitting tune on his violin to match Mycroft leaving.

As soon as Mycroft was out of ear shot John started in on Sherlock. "Why did you tell him you've been busy? Your schedule is completely free to the point it's making you go mad."

"Why not?"

"So it's a rivalry between you two, a sibling rivalry? I wouldn't put it past you." Amelia thought out loud.

"You've known me for a day don't make assumptions." Sherpock answered, dragging the 'day.'

The ringing of Sherlock's phone started cutting off the argument that was bound to happen if the conversation lingered. He immediately picked it up and extanged a few words with whoever was on the other side.

"Ah. How could I say no." He hung up the phone and got up from where he was sitting to leave the flat. "Lestrade called to summon me. Are you coming John?"

"Yeah I guess so." John stuttered throwing a questioning look towards Amelia not sure what to do.

"Oh don't stand there looking like a lost puppy. Come along if you must." Sherlock said frustrated. Amelia wanting to say no just to retaliate but realizing she had no other plans for the day was forced to listen to him, and she followed the consulting detective and blogger out the door.

Not returning to the flat until late that night, the three of them were simply exhausted. Sherlock didn't bother to make conversation before heading straight into his room and closing the door behind him. Not that he would have in the first place. Finally having a moment of silence to speak, Amelia and John sat in the sitting room. Sherlock not being there to reprimand her, Amelia sat in his chair.

"I'm sorry it's taken so long to sit down together." John sighed as he sank into his chair.

"Nothing to worry about. I actually had a bit of fun today." Shifting in the chair so her elbows rested on her knees she looked directly at John. "I know you wouldn't have phoned me without a purpose. Not to just catch up."

"I'm sorry for that too. I know I should have called earlier not just when I needed you. I hope you can forgive me because truly I am so glad we are talking again."

"John of course I forgive you. It's my nature to not stay mad at anyone, you know that. Now tell me what you need because I'm getting impatient." Amelia replied with a light laugh.

"It's not widely known to the public but Sherlock tends to not have the healthiest of coping mechanism. Particularly when he's bored."

"Like he was yesterday."

"Yes, exactly. I know that when things with your father went down," Amelia took a sharp inhale at the mention of him as John continued on, "you experienced some of the same things. To put it bluntly I was wondering if you could help Sherlock get over his drug addiction. He says he can easily do it on his own and all other sorts of excuses but something that complicated can't be done by yourself. I'm sure you would understand."

"You would understand also. You were always there for me." Amelia commented with a sad smile, reminiscing on the past.

"I know it's a lot to ask and if you think it will be triggering in any way-" before John could finish Amelia cut him off.

"Even if it is I know how to handle myself. And I can see that you clearly care for Sherlock a lot. And although I don't want to admit it, I see why you care. Of course I'll help in anyway possible."

"Amelia you never cease to amaze me. Thank you again." John said as he got up to hug Amelia. Only staying in the hug for a moment, they released each other when John spoke up once again.

"I know you don't love talking about it but you do know if you need someone to talk to about anything pertaining to your father you know you can come to me. Right?"

"Yes John. I appreciate it." Amelia sighed, which then turned into a yawn.

"You can stay here tonight if you'd like since it's late. Cabs don't usually circle around here at this hour."

"That would be lovely John."

"You can have my bed if you'd like." John offered gesturing towards the upstairs bedroom.

"Well now, that would just be confirming Mycroft's suspicions John! The couch is just fine in all seriousness. Now get to bed." Amelia lightly slapped John across the shoulder in an attempt to shoo him off. After an extange of goodnights, John was off to his bed.

Alone again, Amelia sat on the couch and rubbed her face with her hands. After all these years it was still hard to openly talk about her father. Not wanting to think about him longer she gingerly laid down on the couch, calling it a night.

After he heard the final noises of the couch moving, Sherlock sat up from where he was on the floor next to his door with a hard look on his face. Eavesdropping was a bad habit of his. After learning the new information on Amelia and that her intentions were truly good he felt remorse for treating her rudely. He wasn't sure how to make up for his actions. In typical Sherlock fashion he didn't feel comfortable or right saying sorry. Deciding to sleep on it, Sherlock laid down in his bed. Alone again.

#sherlock x reader #sherlock fandom #sherlock bbc #bbc sherlock #sherlock #john watson #holmes and watson #sherlock fanfiction #sherlock fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom #dependency

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allaroundcringey · 4 years

Text

Dependency ~ Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 4 ~ Park Benches and Deductions

Pairing : Sherlock x Female Reader

Warnings : mention of drug abuse, addiction, and emotional abuse in later chapters

TW : Panic attacks

A/N : as you might have noticed in the first few chapters I tend to tie the story in a bunch. I'm going to start leaning away from doing that because truly there is a theme and moral and ect to my story that I want to convey- not just the television show of Sherlock. I plan on mentioning the plot a few times for key plot points but other than that it'll be a lot of original work!

Also, some of this chapter hits close to home so if anyone else deals with those issues I wish you the best and just know everything will be okay <3

***I do not own any of these characters, plot ideas, and lines taken directly from the show (though there are only a few of those) anything pertaining to Amelia is my original work.***

Of the many mornings Amelia found herself stumbling into 221B she had not been met with such disarray. The scene that unfolded in front of her was Sherlock frantically running around, leaving behind his monstrously loud footsteps. He seemed to be searching through everything possible in the flat with no true plan of where and how to look. Papers flew everywhere along with several components to Sherlock's experiments.

John was sitting on the couch, head in his hand clearly looking fed up with the mans actions. A small part of Amelia wanted to slowly back out before anyone noticed her, but before she could seize the chance Sherlock spotted her from the corner of his eye. Moving like a trained dog he looked her body up and down and even grabbed the small bag Amelia was carrying. He dumped the contents across the floor and shuffled through them swiftly.

"You absolute arse! What the fuck was that for?!" Amelia exclaimed, waving her arms every which way.

"Drugs." Sherlock bluntly stated with absolutely no emotion.

"Sherlock you complete lunatic take a minute to breath and sit down!" John yelled which shut Sherlock up for a minute and made Amelia quiet down as well.

"Has he been like this all morning?"

"No-" Sherlock started.

"Oh yes he has. Since precisely 4 am last night. Woke me up from the sound of his gun. All because he was bored! Bored. I am at the expense of him because he can't find anything to entertain himself." John sounded exasperated and Amelia couldn't blame him. Living with Sherlock seemed like living with a toddler.

Before Sherlock could run past Amelia for the god only knows number of time she stopped him dead in his tracks by placing her hands firmly on his shoulders. Sherlock's expression was displayed as if he was a shocked child who got in trouble.

"Do you need the drugs or do you just need a distraction from whatever is going on in your brain?"

"Drugs." Sherlock grumbled, but instead of continuing his search in an act of defeat he flopped down into his chair.

"How are you John? Do you need anything?" Amelia asked, walking towards the couch and sat next to him.

"A cup of tea would be lovely-" Before John could finish his request Amelia shot up from the couch and steadily made her way over to where Sherlock was sulking.

"I know what we're going to do. I'm taking you to the park. Right now." Thankfully Sherlock was already dressed so they could go right out the door. Abandoning her bag and the spilled contents, she marched right over them while dragging Sherlock behind her.

"I'm already a third wheel." John muttered as the door slammed in front of his face.

"Mother of 3. Want's to separate from her husband. Does NOT want the kids." Sherlock pointed at the woman across the park who was walking past with a phone held to her ear, obviously in a heated conversation.

Amelia and Sherlock found themselves sat next to each other on a park bench. Between them sat a serving of chips that they were taking turns indulging in. Amelia's idea to distract Sherlock was to simply give him a task he had to complete. He had to deduce the public who found themselves at the same park. Amelia was glad they couldn't hear his deductions- most of them were quite rude and blunt.

"How do you know she's a mother of 3 and doesn't want her kids?"

"For one her body looks like she has had at least one child. Considering she is discussing divorce over the phone means that her and her husband have had time to grow apart, meaning time to have more kids. The average amount of kids a family has in this part of England is 3. And the fact that her kids are not with her at a park means she has some kind of resentment towards them."

"Makes sense." Amelia sighed.

"It's more than makes sense! It is fact. I am never wrong." Sherlock heatedly replied.

"Yes you are." Amelia wore a smug smile, knowing she was about to prove him wrong.

"No I'm not."

"The other day. You treated me differently because you thought I was fragile."

"I did nothing out of the ordinary-"

"I am not fragile. I have my moments like everyone else. But never mistake me for fragile." She took a moment before continuing on. "And I'd like to think you are the same way. You have your moments. Like this morning. But you are also not fragile."

"That man is currently having an affair with his wife's brother." Sherlock muttered turning away from Amelia.

She noticed anytime Sherlock was given the chance to open up and be real he always shut it down. She understood why he did, she acted the same way when anything about her dad was brought up. Amelia wasn't ignorant enough to think it was fine to live like that though. Sherlock was the exact opposite.

"You try." Sherlock spoke up suddenly.

"What?"

"You take a turn deducing people."

"No way in hell I'm capable of doing that." Amelia laughed in doubt at what Sherlock suggested.

"It's quite simple actually. For example," Sherlock took a moment to look around at the people who made up the park, "if someones finger nails are short and dirty they work in construction.'

"Well there's a bunch of construction workers over there. They definitely work in construction." Sherlock rolled his eyes at Amelia's sarcastic response.

"Which of the workers are on their break though? Look away from the construction scene itself." Amelia took his words to heart and started intently studying people's hands.

"Aha!" A few minutes later she spoke seemingly have found something. "That man over there eating a hot dog. Look at his nails."

"You are correct." Sherlock wore a small yet proud smile at Amelia's first deduction.

"Did this work?" Amelia turned to sit sideways on the bench to fully face Sherlock.

"Did what work?"

"Going to the park. Did it create enough of a distraction to keep you entertained?"

"Possibly."

"You're welcome."

"I would have figured it out on my own."

"Keep telling yourself that Holmes. We should probably head back to the flat. Johnny boy might be getting lonely."

"Do me and everyone else on Earth a favor and don't call John that again." Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Alrighty Sherly." Amelia could hear an audible gag erupt from Sherlock's mouth at her words. Taking her time at the park as a victory she started to lead the two of them back to 221B Baker Street.

Amelia had ended up leaving to go back to her own flat shortly after dropping Sherlock- the more tamed version- back home. Dropping her keys on the counter top, she made her way slowly towards her bedroom.

Since she left their flat she felt something building up inside. Her head felt light and hurt. Overall she felt off. It made her uncomfortable that she couldn't shake it.

When she arrived she took a deep breath and let it go. Over and over. Sitting herself on the soft ground that made up her room, she continued keeping a steady breath. Feeling the ground beneath her hands beneath her being to remind herself she was still here. Breathing in and out and feeling the carpet between her finger tips.

After being alone for so long she forgot how much it could consume her. The silence, the loneliness, the boredom, the urges. When alone every problem she accumulated piled on top of her. It was hard to breath now.

Amelia knew she had to take herself away from herself before she did anything she regretted. Going to lay down, back on the floor, she placed her hands on her stomach. Control. Control her thoughts. Breath in. Breath out. Start counting backwards in a pattern of 3 from 100. 97. 94. 91. Do it until everything

Stops.

Her panic attacks didn't last long but when they hit they hit hard. They would cause her not to be able to breath, and most times her heart would begin racing. On the outside her composure would look fine, at the most only a bit agitated. On the inside a storm was created in her mind. The wicked witch of the west would swoop in and take away her self control until she decided it was time to give it back.

Mustering enough energy to bring herself up, Amelia stood and gently lay herself on her bed. She said her affirmation statements that her therapist taught her from all those years ago. She was okay. She was alright. Everything was going to be good.

Falling into a soft slumber, Amelia allowed her body to go limp, and give herself a break.

"How are you liking Sherlock?" John asked Amelia as they were leaving a victim's place they had to investigate, courtesy of Sherlock's wishes.

"I don't feel anything definitive but I think he has potential." Amelia shrugged, answering John truthfully.

"Potential for what?" John had a look in his eyes that Amelia immediately picked up on. John couldn't hide the smile creeping onto his face.

"I do not plan to do anything of the sorts. I meant as a friend. Although he has few of those which is why I said nothing was definitive." Amelia explained, retaliating the suggesting looks Sherlock gave.

"Stop overthinking Amelia. You two click like two pieces in a puzzle. Dare I say more than we did." John faked gasped at the end causing Amelia to laugh.

"Straight lies you're feeding me John. Quite rude to lie to your old mate!"

"Oh stop it. You'll prove me right soon enough. Trust my love instincts." John wriggled his eyebrows in a concerning manner.

"That was the most repulsing thing I've witness in my life. And I've seen some shit. Please never do that again." Amelia shook her head in disappointment.

"Don't MAKE me do it again!" John laughed.

Amelia knew that her and Sherlock would only be friends. If at all. Right now she was mainly making sure he didn't take any drugs. Even though all of that was true she couldn't help but think of what could happen though. What if something happened that was beyond friends? Not wanting to entertain the thought she pushed it away and tried to enjoy the rest of the day with John.

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