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Literature Text
"Methinks the lady has found herself a lover," the tall man singsongs. "Or maybe just an in-fat-u-a-tion," he pronounces out the word, syllable by syllable, still teasing.
"Stop it," you mumble, barely audible, staring down at your toes over your crossed arms.
He hears you, of course, chuckling, "Why? Because I'm right?"
"No, stop it now," you repeat, still not meeting his eyes, although your voice grows a little louder.
"I don't see why I should, [y/n]. You always do say that you love my deductions. This is just another one, isn't it? It really wasn't that difficult; you're always smiling out of the blue, blushing. All the classic symptoms of that… unfortunate disease." You cringe at his choice of words, looking up into his piercing blue eyes.
"Stop it, Sherlock. Please."
"Oh, come on now, at least give me the name!"
Your patience worn thin, you finally snap, "You, you dunce! I fancy you, okay? Happy now?" You uncross your folded arms, spinning on your heal, prepared to race up the stairs and shut yourself into your room - preferably with the door slamming behind you - but his familiar large hand catches your wrist, stopping you. You don't turn to face him, but he speaks nonetheless.
"[y/n], I… I'm sorry. That was completely uncalled for. I was just being an arse, as usual. I um… I am… I think that you are a lovely girl, and deserve someone much less… well, like me."
"And you deserve someone closer to your level of intelligence. So that sums it up. Let me go, there's clearly nothing else to say."
"Clearly," he states before twirling you around. He bends down just in time for your lips to meet his in a quick, chaste kiss.
"Oi, I never said that I didn't like you too."
"Stop it," you mumble, barely audible, staring down at your toes over your crossed arms.
He hears you, of course, chuckling, "Why? Because I'm right?"
"No, stop it now," you repeat, still not meeting his eyes, although your voice grows a little louder.
"I don't see why I should, [y/n]. You always do say that you love my deductions. This is just another one, isn't it? It really wasn't that difficult; you're always smiling out of the blue, blushing. All the classic symptoms of that… unfortunate disease." You cringe at his choice of words, looking up into his piercing blue eyes.
"Stop it, Sherlock. Please."
"Oh, come on now, at least give me the name!"
Your patience worn thin, you finally snap, "You, you dunce! I fancy you, okay? Happy now?" You uncross your folded arms, spinning on your heal, prepared to race up the stairs and shut yourself into your room - preferably with the door slamming behind you - but his familiar large hand catches your wrist, stopping you. You don't turn to face him, but he speaks nonetheless.
"[y/n], I… I'm sorry. That was completely uncalled for. I was just being an arse, as usual. I um… I am… I think that you are a lovely girl, and deserve someone much less… well, like me."
"And you deserve someone closer to your level of intelligence. So that sums it up. Let me go, there's clearly nothing else to say."
"Clearly," he states before twirling you around. He bends down just in time for your lips to meet his in a quick, chaste kiss.
"Oi, I never said that I didn't like you too."
Literature
Good Morning: Mycroft x Reader
The smell of chocolate cake tickled his nose as Mycroft opened the door. He placed his umbrella in its stand and squeaked into the kitchen. A slab of thick, gooey heaven greeted him but he left it alone, placing his briefcase on the table and draping his coat over the wooden chair before removing his shoes and tucking them in the cupboard. Softly he headed upstairs removing his tie and cufflinks as he did.
The bedroom door was fully open and the lights still on, you were propped up in bed asleep with a book resting on your chest. Quickly he stripped, neatly folding his clothes, before pulling on a pair of pinstriped pyjama bottoms. Gently he
Literature
Another Morning : Sherlock x Reader
The harsh white light did nothing except illuminate the bruising across your sleeping face highlighting your injuries as Sherlock entered the room. The constant beeping of the monitor and your breathing filled the air, everything outside of the room forgotten about as he crossed the room to sit in on the plastic chair near your bed. Just shock, bruising and fractured ribs they said, nothing to be worried about but uncharacteristically Sherlock was worried. It was his fault, he dragged you out on the case as John was on a date only to watch you be pushed and tumble down the stairs whilst he was busy being brilliant. All the pain you were feel
Literature
Investigations - BBC Sherlock x Reader
“Unlike you to bring a date, Mycroft.” Sherlock said flatly to his brother. It didn’t take a genius to determine that Sherlock did not approve of Mycroft inviting strangers into their parents’ home. He had been watching you since the moment you walked into the house with his older brother. At first glance, he thought you were just another of Mycroft’s assistants, but your phone remained out of sight, so that was ruled out. A good thing too, Mother hated when either of them brought work home with them.
Mycroft chuckled softly and shook his head. You were a dear friend of his, yes, but a date?
“She’s
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This is so OOC, I know... I'm really just trying to struggle through my mountain of WIPs xD
This fanfiction is as long as it will get. Please do not ask me to continue it unless you plan on commissioning me for it (and even then I can still refuse if I just don't think the story should be continued). If you're still interested in this story being continued, my commission info is here: corporalcornbread.deviantart.c… Thank you.
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aww!!!! soo cute! love the beginning! X"D im in stitches..X"D<3