Summary: You and Sherlock have been secretly harbouring feelings for each other, but it takes a moment of vulnerability for you both to finally reveal the truth
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Fem!Reader
Warning(s): smidge of angst, love confessions, fluffy fluff
You had always been someone who was observant, even as a child. You would notice things that others wouldn't, pick up on details that would slip by most people's attention. It was a skill that had served you well in your adult life, especially in your current job as a consulting detective.
But unlike Sherlock, you didn't make a show of your abilities. You kept them hidden, only using them when necessary. You didn't want to draw attention to yourself, especially not from the likes of Sherlock Holmes.
You had been working with him for a few months now, and it was clear that he was intrigued by you. He would occasionally make comments about your abilities, but you always brushed them off, feigning ignorance.
One day, Sherlock was in a particularly foul mood. You could tell he was upset about something, but you didn't know what. You had been working on a case together, but Sherlock had abruptly left the crime scene, leaving you to finish up on your own.
You found him back at 221B, sulking in his chair. You hesitated for a moment, unsure if you should say anything. But something inside you compelled you to speak up.
"Something's bothering you," you said, your voice soft.
Sherlock looked up at you, surprised. "What makes you say that?"
"You're not your usual self," you said, taking a step closer to him. "You're distracted, agitated. And you're avoiding the case we were working on. It's unlike you."
Sherlock's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you thought he might lash out at you. But instead, he seemed to deflate.
"It's nothing," he muttered, looking away.
"It's not nothing," you said firmly. "You're conflicted about something. Something to do with me, I think."
Sherlock's head snapped back to look at you, his eyes wide. "What are you talking about?"
"You've been...different, around me," you said, hesitating slightly. "More...attentive. And not in the way you usually are. It's like you're...conflicted about something."
Sherlock stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. You felt exposed, vulnerable, like you had revealed too much. You turned to leave, but before you could make it to the door, Sherlock's hand shot out and grabbed your wrist.
"Wait," he said, his voice low. "You're right. I am...conflicted. About you. About us."
You turned to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. "What do you mean?"
Sherlock took a step closer to you, his gaze intense. "I mean...I think I have feelings for you. Romantic feelings."
Your breath caught in your throat. You had suspected as much, but to hear him say it out loud...it was almost too much to handle.
"I feel the same way," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.
Sherlock's eyes widened in surprise. "You do?"
You nodded, feeling emboldened by his confession. "I've been hiding my abilities from you, but I've been observing you just as much as you've been observing me. And...I've noticed how you've been looking at me. How you've been treating me differently."
Sherlock's expression softened, and for a moment, it felt like everything was going to be alright. But then, something shifted in his eyes, and you knew something was wrong.
"I can't do this," he said, his voice rough. "I can't have feelings for you. It's too complicated. It's not...it's not safe."
You felt your heart sink at Sherlock's words. You had been so sure that he felt the same way as you did. You took a step back, feeling embarrassed and exposed.
"What do you mean it's not safe?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.
Sherlock sighed heavily and looked down at his feet. "I can't get involved with someone I work with. It's not...it's not professional. And there's always the risk of danger. I can't put you in danger."
You felt a lump form in your throat. You knew that Sherlock had a point, but it still hurt to hear him say it. You had allowed yourself to hope that maybe, just maybe, you could have something with him.
"I understand," you said, your voice shaking slightly. "I'll...I'll go. I don't want to make things awkward."
You turned and exited 221B. The lump in your throat growing with every step you took away from him. Opening the door, you turned behind you to look at the entryway one last time.
Swiping the tear off your cheek, you exited into the rain. You made it as far as the lamppost before Sherlock grabbed your hand. He spun you around and pulled you into his arms, pressing his lips to yours in a fierce, desperate kiss.
The rain was coming down harder now, soaking through your clothes and plastering your hair to your face. But you didn't care. All you could feel was Sherlock's lips on yours, his arms around you, his body pressed up against yours.
When he finally pulled away, you were both gasping for breath. He looked at you, his eyes intense.
"I can't promise that it will be easy," he said. "But I can promise that I want to try. If you're willing."
You felt a smile spread across your face, despite the rain and the uncertainty. "I'm willing. I'm more than willing. "
Sherlock leaned down and kissed you again, this time more gently. You melted into his embrace, feeling the rain washing away all the doubts and fears that had been holding you back. You knew that it wouldn't be easy, but you also knew that you were willing to fight for this, for Sherlock, for yourself. And in that moment, that was all that mattered.
OMG A NEED A SCENARIO FOR DR. STEPHEN STRANGE AND HIS S/O WHERE HE HUGS THE READER AND THE READER IS JUST WEARING LIKE A BIG BUTTONED-UP SHIRT OF HIS AND THE CAPE COVERS HER BECAUSE WONG IS WALKING IN
THIS THIS THIS! Bye bye writers block just to do this hehehe! Also all my Stephen posts are getting so much attention recently cause of NWH and I love that THIS MAN IS GETTING THE ATTENTION HE DESERVES! Also I did my best to make this gender neutral, which is something I’ve been working on lately. AND I MADE IT MORE SPICY I HOPE THATS OKAY!!! I hope you enjoy!
That’s My Shirt
Pairing: Doctor Strange X Reader (gn/no specific pronouns) (no y/n)
Description: (up there in the ask)
Warnings: 18+, sexual touching, implications of smut, established relationship
Word Count: 0.8K
A/N: ZERO NWH spoilers! Ignore any mistakes pls. Also maybe I should open up requests again soon...
Stephen was deep in some research, sitting at his desk, when he heard the familiar sound of a portal opening. Following the sparks was the sound of a sweet voice that made his tired face crack a smile. He did not even need to look away from the book on his desk to know who had called his name, so he did not.
“Stephen~”
He figured you were poking your head through a portal you had made. The image of that in his head almost made him break his focus. But he was, as he always is, stubborn. He hummed quietly in response.
“You should come to bed.”
“I’m busy.”
“You’ve been busy all day. You need to relax.”
“It’s still early.”
He heard to grumble and he almost went right back to his reading.
“Stephen, look at me.”
You had said it with a stern tone, one that he knew meant that you were serious. So he huffed a sigh and turned in your direction. His eyes widened and his jaw went slack a little upon seeing you. Inside the sparkling ring, surrounded by its soft light, was you in nothing but one of his button-up shirts. The sleeves were long on you and the front fell past your hips, covering everything that he now was hungry to see. You looked so pretty to him, like you always do. But seeing what you were wearing when you had spoken so normally to him just seconds ago made him ravenous.
“That’s my shirt.” He said simply.
“I know,” you replied, doing your best to keep the innocence in your eyes, “you should come to bed.”
“Come here.”
Stephen slammed his book shut and reached for your hand. He pulled you through the portal, pushed his chair back a little to make room for you, and forced you in his lap. The portal closed behind you and left sparks that danced around a little like the kisses that now trailed on your neck. You giggled and squirmed excitedly when his hands quickly wrapped around your waist. His beard tickled your skin and so did his fingertips.
Being cuddled by him from behind was the best feeling. You felt safe and loved. But with your added choice of attire, it made your insides burn.
“It looks good on you.” Stephen said, his voice rumbling in that familiar tone that gave you goosebumps.
You did not have time to thank him, for his hands moved upwards. They brushed over your chest through the shirt. Your breath caught in your throat, all your attention drawn to every contact point you had with him. His beautiful hands trailing around you. His chest against your back, pressed against him. The breath that lingered on your neck and shoulders, warming the skin softly. The pressure of something hardening against your bare ass.
Then his hands made their way to the buttons. He painstakingly started to undo them. You shook slightly with anticipation.
“You should surprise me like this more often. You’ll get what you want if you do.”
As buttons were undone with softly shaking hands, your chest was starting to be exposed. The cool air hit your skin.
Just when Stephen was whispering to you how pretty you were, a set of footsteps came around the corner and into his office. Wong came in, whistling as he went, with a stack of books and about to call out to the doctor. In the split second before he looked up, the Cloak of Levitation that was on Stephen’s back wrapped around the front of him and covered your nearly bare figure. It was just big enough to encase the two of you, the only thing poking out being your bare shoulders and collar bones. And his arms gripped you protectively underneath.
“Wong! Get out!” The tone in his voice had shifted so quickly, from seductive to almost angry. Obviously frustrated at the intrusion, it had a bite to it. It was still just as hot though.
Your cheeks deepened in colour with embarrassment when you saw the realization hit Wong. It took an entire few seconds for it to even register. The image of the two of you in Stephen’s chair, covered by the cloak, obviously up to something. You almost laughed though, watching the poor man avert his eyes and turn on his heel, calling out that he was off downstairs to study in the foyer for the night instead. He left just as quickly as he appeared.
It was quiet for a second, you both frozen in place. You looked up at your man, seeing the annoyance tug at his brows.
“Good,” Stephen huffed, “we won’t be interrupted.
His hand travelled down your thigh and between your legs so quickly that you let out a squeak.
“M-Maybe we should still head to bed?” you suggested.
“Good idea.” Stephen let go of you temporarily to open a portal to your shared bedroom. “So I can rip my shirt off you in peace.”
Contains: Very mild wedding angst. A consulting detective getting to show off his skills.
Word Count: Over 1k
No Trigger Warnings Apply
Summary: A bridesmaid desperate to not make a fool of themselves at a wedding finds help from a very unlikely source.
AN: This story was born from me working on dinner one night and having a plot bunny pop into my head asking "What does a Consulting Detective know of dancing?" I hope you all enjoy:)
With the wedding of your college roommate a week away, you still didn't feel ready. Though you had your bridesmaids dress,your shoes, your hair and makeup appointment booked, you were filled with a sense of dread. Not for the ceremony,but for what came after: the reception. And the dancing that you would be expected to do.
In the past, you would always pull the “I've two left feet” card to get out of dancing at these sorts of events. But there was no getting out of it this time. The bride was insisting that all the party members lead the entire reception in one big waltz. What’s more,she dropped the news with only two weeks left till the wedding.
You and the other members of the party quietly grumbled over it all via group chat. All of you had very busy schedules which meant meeting up to rehearse was practially impossible. Then the bride got the idea to find a video online of the dance you all were expected to learn and sent it to the party.
You already knew who your partner would be, one of the groom’s brothers. In a normal setting, you would have just asked to meet up with him to practice before the wedding. But he was flying in for the wedding and wouldn't arrive till the day before, which gave you no real time to rehearse with him.
When you had free time, you would watch the video to try and pick up the moves, but practicing without a partner made it more difficult. Making it worse was the fact that you couldn't get anyone to practice with you. So you had to just go through the motions on your own.
After leaving work the monday before the wedding,you found yourself passing by the elegant white reception hall. Since it hadn't closed for the day yet, you decided to walk in and get a feel for the place. You walked up the stone steps and inside.
Discovering that the main ballroom was on the first floor, you walked till you found a set of double doors. Opening them, you saw a large room the color of ivory. Tables were set up in a circle to allow room for dancing in the middle. You tried to imagine the room full of people dressed to the nines. Even now you hoped that when it came time for the waltz, the guests would be too drunk to notice your dancing.
You could imagine it now, everyone with their phones out, recording your ridiculous dancing and uploading it for everyone to laugh at. Not for the first time did you wonder if you would be better off faking having the flu that day. Or just having a few extra drinks yourself before it all started.
Thinking this would be a good time to practice in the actual venue, you cued up the video, a Waltz set to Tchaikovsky’s "Waltz of the Flowers."Though the dance was just under three minutes long, it felt as if it was going to take a couple of hours.
Setting your phone down on the closest table, you walked to the center of the room as if meeting your partner. Pretending he was there,you curtsied, moving your arms out with a flourish and started going through the steps with your imaginary partner.
Having watched the video lord only knows how many times, you felt you had a good idea of the moves. Most could be done on your own, but the dip halfway through was a bit of a challenge, so you skipped it and went on.By the time the music ended,you were just glad you got through the first run through without tripping over your own feet.
“Too stiff. Too self conscious.”
A voice called out of nowhere, startling you and making you feel embarrassed.
“Great. Just a practice run and I am already being judged by a stranger.” You muttered.
You turned to see who had made the comment. It was a gentleman, very tall, rather handsome with dark curly hair and pale skin, wearing dark clothes, covered in a long black overcoat and a dark blue scarf. He had his phone in his hand, and he looked to be texting.
The man walked over to you, quickly joining you. Staring at his stern expression, he looked less than impressed with you.
“Well considering this just a practice and I am far from a professional…” You started to explain as you walked to him, your tone a bit barbed. It was bad enough that this had been dropped in your lap by the bride at the last second, but this made it worse.
"That's certain. Just as it's certain that you are practicing on your own because either your partner can't make it or can't be bothered." The man continued, his deep rich tone more than a little condescending.
“That's because he lives across the Atlantic. I won't meet him till the end of the week. I’ll be lucky to have time to shake his hand before I’m expected to dance with him.” You explained, crossing your arms. “I'm just trying to get this down without making too much of a fool of myself.”
The man looked around, for what you didn't know. He then walked over to the table where your phone was.He picked it up and before you could say anything,he had the music cued up again. He sat it down,then took off his coat and scarf and laid them down on the table.
He then walked back to you, took your hand in his and guided you back into the center of the ballroom.You quickly realized that he intended to help you practice.Rude as he was, any practice partner was better than nothing.
The both of you took your first bow and with a surprising gratefulness, the Stranger took you into his arms and said “Don't think. Just move.”
He quickly took the lead.As the two of you went through each step, the man never took his eyes off of you. When he would pull you close, he would look at you with such a piercing gaze that you felt as if he saw right through you.
Through the multitude of turns and twirls, you two somehow managed to move in sync. When it came time for the first dip, he did it so fluidly it took you by surprise. When he brought you back up, for reasons known only to him, he pulled you a bit closer.
The two of you got through the second half of the dance without incident. After the second dip, the man brought you back up, let you go and went to cue up the music again on your phone.You sighed as he walked back over to you and took you in his arms again. As much as the stranger’s rudeness bothered you, you knew you weren't likely to find someone else to practice with on short notice. At least this way you could say you did practice.
The second go through went a bit smoother. As did the third and fourth. Soon you stopped counting. Soon you found yourself relaxing a bit, even enjoying it all. The man was admittedly a very good dancer.
Thinking you might as well learn a bit about your impromptu dance partner between the twists and twirls you asked:“So tell me Sir, do you actually work here?”
“No.”
“Are you a dance instructor?”
“No.”
“So, what are you?”
"I'm a consulting detective." He said as he dipped you again and brought you back up.
"I've heard of private detectives,but never a consulting one." You admitted.
"Because I'm the only one in the world."
Your curiosity was greatly piqued.
"So what does a Consulting Detective know about dancing?"
"Besides the fact that we are dancing a pre-choreographed Viennese Waltz set to Tchaikovsky? One that you have to pay additional for in order to get step by step instructions?"
"I see your point." You said, guessing he gleaned that information from your phone.
So, what actually brings you here?"
"Looking into a case."
"Why? Do crimes often happen at reception halls?"
"More than you might think."
With that the music stopped again. Looking at your watch, you saw that the hall would soon be closing.
"We should probably get going. Don't want to get locked in.Thanks for helping me practice."
The stranger gave the briefest of nods. He strode back over to the table, gathered his coat and scarf, of which he quickly put on and walked out. You grabbed your own belongings and followed him out.
The man walked at a brisk pace, hurrying through the doors. You walked through the doors just in time to watch the Stranger disappear into the London crowds.
You headed home, still wondering what the stranger's name could be. Mere moments after you left, others arrived at the reception hall, in dark cars with lights on, their own business had nothing to do with a wedding.
Arriving home, you heard your phone beep. Taking it out of your pocket, you saw you had a text.
"Tomorrow. 6pm. 221B Baker Street. Bring the shoes you will dance in.
Summary: Sherlock shocks John with a crazy revelation
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader
Warning(s): talks of marriage, talks of unconventional marriage, lovey nonsense, lemme know if I forgot anything :)
Sherlock had had a long and frustrating day. He had been working on a particularly cunning case, and he was starting to feel the weight of the investigation on his shoulders.
As he walked back to his flat on Baker Street, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief at the thought of finally being able to relax and lock himself in his mind palace. He had always found solace in the familiar routines and comforts of his flat, and he was looking forward to spending the evening searching through clues in his mind.
But as he approached the front door of the building, he was startled to see a figure waiting for him. It was Y/n, and she was looking at him with a mix of curiosity and amusement.
“Sherlock, darling, it’s been way too long,” she said, a hint of a smile on her lips. “I was starting to think you’d deleted me from your mind palace.”
Sherlock stared at the woman for a moment, trying to place her. And then, to his surprise, he realised who he was talking to.
“Ah, of course,” he said, a sly smirk crossing his face. “I should’ve known you’d turn up eventually. Y/n, it’s been a while.”
Y/n raised an eyebrow. “You don’t seem very surprised to see me,” she said. “Did you forget who I am?”
Sherlock chuckled and wrapped his arm around her waist. “Not at all, my dear. I just assumed you’d eventually make your way back to me. You always do.”
Y/n rolled her eyes and playfully punched his arm. “You’re incorrigible, Sherlock.” She said, shaking her head. “But I love you for it.”
As the two of them walked into the flat, Sherlock turned to John, who had been watching the exchange with a mixture of shock and confusion.
“Oh, by the way, John, meet Y/n. My wife,” Sherlock said, gesturing to the woman attached to his hip.
John stared at the two of them in shock, seemingly trying to process the new information he had been given.
“W-wife? You have a wife?”
Sherlock just huffed, “Yes, as I have stated, Y/n is my wife. We’ve been married for a few years now, but I don’t tend to talk about her much. It’s not exactly a relevant detail in most of my cases.”
“Sherlock, I had no idea she even existed!” He said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell me, us, anyone?”
Sherlock shrugged and gave Y/n a playful wink. “It’s not exactly a topic that comes up in conversation, is it? As besides, Y/n and I have an unconventional arrangement. We don’t see each other all that often, but we both have a strong connection and know that we can rely on the other.”
Y/n nodded her head in agreement and smiled at the detective. “We have a love that defies conventions.”
Sherlock turned to his wife and smiled, “That we do, my dear.”
A/N I still think John is standing there, staring at them with his mind blown. Hope you enjoyed!
Request from Wattpad: You have a very stressful day at work, and come home to your husband *cough* Stephen *cough*. He asks what is wrong, but you tend to handle things on your own and solve your own problems since your autopilot is to do things yourself, and assure him its fine. basically he just pampers you and stuff. Really fluffy<3
Pairing: Stephen Strange x Wife!Reader
Warning(s): Kinda self-deprecating reader, worried!Stephen, caring!Stephen, fluff (lots of it), kinda comfort-fic-ish, consumption of alcohol, descriptions of toxic work environments
If there was one thing you thoroughly enjoyed about the clock hitting 5pm, it was definitely the fact that you could finally leave the workplace that had been spawned from hell itself.
Today, your workplace and fellow employees had decided to be Thanos-sized pains in the ass and graciously blame every single problem in existence on you, and you only.
When the coffee machine decided to short-circuit all the electrical appliances in the kitchen because Lauren had somehow managed to spill water all over the electrical sockets: “Y/n! That’s coming out of your paycheck!”
When David from Marketing didn’t get his figures in on time because he would rather ogle Maxine’s breasts than get this month’s profit and loss statement done: “Y/n! Get your act together and get me those figures, NOW! I expected better from you.”
And then there was the one thing that truly iced the cake. For a couple months now, Abigail (the bane of your existence) had been pushing the majority of her workload onto you, while she just sat at her desk and tried to look sexy for your boss, Nolan.
Normally, it irritated you but you put up with it. You just wanted to get out by 5 without any fuss. But today, you had had enough. She had piled on four different accounts that all had five sub-accounts each. You could not get any of that done by 5.
So, you did what any over-worked and super-stressed out employee would do. You went to your boss.
“Nolan, there’s an issue I need to address with you.”
“What is it, Y/n? I’m incredibly busy.” You internally rolled your eyes; yeah, ‘busy’ sitting here and betting on the next horse race probably.
You explained the situation with Abigail and her workload and eventually made it to today’s problem. “They all need to be finalised by 5 and I cannot get that done on-time on my own, especially with all of the work I already have to do. Could you ask her to do her own work for once?”
He shifted his head and stared at you with a look that screamed irritation on his face.
“Are you really that useless that you can’t get four simple accounts in order? In the next four hours nonetheless? God, you're pathetic. Get those four accounts done by 3 or you’re fired.”
You stared at him, jaw agape and eyes wide open.
“W-what? Nolan? That isn’t possible. Each of those has five sub-accounts eac-”
“I don’t care. Get it done and get out!”
You quickly slipped out the door and got to work, ensuring that you glared at Abigail the entire trip back to your desk.
That was how you ended up seated in front of the Rotunda of Gateways, staring into the abyss with a glass of Prosecco in your hand; over-analysing every single mistake you had made in those accounts in the rush to get them done.
Bringing the glass to your lips, you took another gulp of the sweet liquid and internally screamed. Why did your workplace have to be so toxic? Why couldn’t you work at some little business that was run by a sweet old woman who didn’t take advantage of you?
You were so caught up in your internal warfare that you didn’t hear Stephen come into the room. So when you felt his hands on your shoulder, you jumped and spilled wine all over your blouse.
“Sorry, Darling. I didn’t mean to scare you.”
You took a deep breath, “It’s fine, Stephen. Don’t worry about it.”
He made his way around you, crouched down and began to rub your upper arms.
“Are you alright, Sweetheart? You don’t seem like yourself.”
“I’m fine.”
You attempted to smile, but of course, Stephen saw right through it. Standing up, he grabbed your hand and began walking towards your bedroom.
“Stephen, what are you-”
“Be quiet, Love. Just go along with it.”
With a flick of his fingers, water began streaming out of the tap into the bathtub; the water being the perfect temperature for the both of you to get in. Settled against Stephen’s chest, you slowly felt the stress begin to ebb away as you took in his heavenly scent.
His hands made their way to your shoulders and began kneading your tense muscles. He continued his ministrations, every so often bringing his lips to your shoulder or cheek; reaffirming his love for you with every lowly whispering of how much he adored you. Slowly, your eyes began to close, fully immersing yourself in the pampering that your husband was subjecting you to.
When the water turned cold and your fingers began to prune, Stephen helped you out of the bath, dried you off with a little bit of magic, and helped you into your red silk pyjamas. Scooping you up in his arms, he carried you to the bed and continued reassuring you of how wonderful you were, and how you were the epitome of perfection in his eyes.
Laying you down on the mattress, you covered you with the blanket and tucked you in; giving you a lingering kiss to your temple. After cleaning up the bathroom, he made his way to the bed and laid himself next to you, draped his arms around your waist, and pulled you closer.
“I know that something has happened, and I know that your default move is to try and cope with it on your own. But I need you to understand that it’s okay to rant about your problems to me. I’m your husband, it’s pretty much in my job description.”
You slightly chucked but shook your head. You were nowhere near ready to tell him about or relive anything related to work day today. A stray tear slipped down your cheek at that thought.
Pulling back slowly, he raised his hand and began to wipe your tears away, “But I also know how hard it is for you--as someone who bottles up all their emotions--to speak out about them.”
He paused and kissed your forehead, lingering there for a moment before continuing.
“But I just want you to know, that whenever you’re ready to talk about it, I’m here, and I’ll always be ready to be there for you.”
More tears slid down your cheeks as you snuggled back into his warm embrace. You knew that whenever you were ready, he would be there; and that made everything that little bit better.
Summary: Stephen wants to ask you out, but the universe seems to be against him.
Pairing: Stephen Strange x Receptionist!Fem!Reader
Warning(s): none really, fluff and humour
Stephen had always been a man of precision and control. He could manipulate time, space, and reality with a flick of his wrist, but when it came to matters of the heart, he was completely clueless. That was until he met you, the receptionist at the Avengers Tower.
You were one of the few people in the tower who could make him feel at ease. You had a way of calming his nerves, and he found himself seeking your company more and more. He had never felt this way about anyone before--not even Christine--and it was a completely foreign feeling for him.
He had decided that he was going to pursue you. He had planned to take you out on a date, but things never seemed to go as planned. He was always so clumsy around you, and everything he did seemed to make you laugh.
One day, he had brought you a cup of coffee, but as he handed it to you, he spilled it all over your desk. You had just laughed it off, helping him clean up the mess. He had never felt so embarrassed in his life, but your laugh had made him feel a bit better.
Another time, he had tried to impress you by showing off his levitation skills, but he ended up losing control and crashing into a bookshelf. You had rushed over to make sure he was okay, and once again, you had laughed it off.
Despite all his clumsy attempts, he never gave up. He was determined to win your heart. He had finally mustered up the courage to ask you out, but just as he was about to speak, he accidentally tripped over his own feet and stumbled into you.
You had caught him, and he looked up at you, feeling mortified. But then, you had smiled at him, and he felt like everything was going to be okay.
"Stephen, I think you're adorable," you said. "And I'd love to go out with you."
He felt like he was on top of the world. He couldn't believe that you had agreed to go out with him. He grinned from ear to ear, feeling like he was finally getting the hang of this whole romance thing.
As you walked away, he couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude wash over him. He knew that he had a lot to learn when it came to love, but he was willing to do whatever it took to make you happy.
He had finally found the missing piece to his life, and it was all thanks to you.
Summary: Realising that you have a crush on the egotistical Dr. Stephen Strange was not something you were expecting to happen during the middle of your shift. So what’s the best thing to do: ignore him. And it works...well, it works until Stephen corners you.
Pairing: Nurse!Reader x Doctor Stephen Strange
Being an ER nurse was a rewarding career. You got to meet a wide variety of people and help them with their injuries; whether it be a dislocated finger or a heart attack.
However, something that you absolutely hated about the job was the huge overtime shifts when it got busy. Especially the twelve-hour ones.
Twelve-hour overtime shifts in the ER were not ideal but were sadly a common occurrence in your life. And much to your chagrin, those long shifts left you feeling drained and exhausted by extra hour five.
With five hours remaining, you tiredly walked along the hospital halls, trying to remember where the vending machine with the snacks you like was on this floor.
After hazily stumbling through a multitude of halls--some of which you walked down multiple times--you eventually found the one you were looking for; but much to your disdain, the spectacular Dr. Stephen Strange was currently using it.
The two of you only knew each other through his lovely ex-girlfriend Christine; and your interactions became less frequent because of their split. But even so, the Doctor was always, in some sort of way, on your mind.
“L/n.” Stephen greeted, knocking you out of your thoughts.
You nodded your head, “Strange.”
Tapping your foot on the ground seemed to be the only thing that could keep you awake, something that Strange seemed to notice.
“Are you alright, L/n?”
“‘m fine.” You managed to mumble. Just as you were about to fall against the vending machine, muscular arms wrapped around your waist.
“You’re exhausted. How long have you been working?”
“‘bout 18 hours.”
You heard him mumble something along the lines of, “Of course you have, my selfless idiot,” but, y’know, that could’ve just been your sleep-deprived mind letting you hear the things you wanted to hear.
After all, you were not Stephen’s, and he wasn’t yours. And it didn’t matter how much you craved to be his-wait...what? You wanted to be Stephen’s?
This was not something you could comprehend at this point in time.
Quickly removing yourself from his grip, you stood up, and began walking away.
“L/n, you didn’t get your (favourite snack) from the vending machine!” He called.
You didn’t even attempt to respond; too afraid of what words would fall from your lips if you spoke. You needed to ignore him, and find a way to drown these new feelings.
Too worked up over your new realisation, it didn’t seem to click that he had known what your go-to snack was.
It was now three hours until you shift finished, and you still couldn’t get Stephen out of your mind.
Sure, you had always found him attractive. Was it his pale blue eyes that you always seemed to get lost in; his sculpted face that made him look like a piece of marble lost from Ancient Greece; his grey streaks that seemed to frame his face perfectly?
How had you not realised your feelings before?
You were brought out of your thoughts by a large thud.
Stephen was on his knees in front of you. “Y/n, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
You gulped, and quickly nodded your head. You held your hand out, and helped him up. Your heartbeat quickened; goosebumps loitered across your body due to contact.
Just like before, you quickly let go of him and ran in the opposite direction, leaving a very confused Stephen.
This was not going to go well.
Finally, your disastrous shift was over, and you were free to go home and sleep. Quickly mumbling a very tired goodbye to Christine and your patient, you headed over to the change rooms.
And seeing your sweatshirt and leggings hanging in your locker was like a gift sent from the Gods themselves.
Sleepily, you managed to remove your blue scrubs and place them in the bio-hazard containment bin. And just as you were about to place your pants on, the door slammed closed, jolting you from your sleepy state.
“Alright, I’ve had it-” He stopped at the sight in front of him.
You squeaked--literally, you squeaked like a mouse. A faint pink hue tinted your cheeks as you thought, this was not how you wanted him to see you practically naked for the first time.
After the moment of shock passed, you covered yourself with your locker door and quickly changed.
“Strange, you are aware that this is the female changing rooms, yes?”
He gulped. “I am. But I have a bone to pick with you, Y/n.”
Oh, the way your name sounded coming from his lips was the best wake-me-up.
“And what is that bone, Doctor?”
“You’ve been ignoring me, and I want to know why.”
Avidly trying to ignore the thoughts flooding your mind about you being naked in front of him, you managed to speak. “Ignoring you...please. I’m not ignoring you.”
He took a step towards you and scoffed. “I find that hard to believe.”
“I’m not ignoring you, Stephen.” You meekly spoke.
He took a step closer. “Don’t lie to me, Y/n. Just tell me why.”
You looked down. “I-I can’t,” You stuttered.
He took one final step closer and lifted your chin. Face to face with the man who you’ve suddenly realised holds you heart, you felt hypnotised.
“You can tell me anything, Y/n.”
And you believed him. So you did. You told him everything; how you value his friendship, how you think he’s a fantastic doctor, how you love him.
Silence filled the room as you both just stared into each other’s eyes. The silence was killing you. It’s foreshadowing his rejection, isn’t it. Trying to think of the words so he can let you down easy.
You gulped. “I understand if you don’t feel the same way, and I don’t want it to ruin our friendship-”
He kissed you with a fervent passion--with a need that you had never felt before. His lips clashed with yours, and you were overwhelmed with his smell. He smelt like safety--he smelt like home.
Pulling away, much to your disappointment, you both caught your breath.
“I love you, Stephen.” He smiled.
“Well, I love you too, Y/n.” Your lips locked again only to be interrupted by a voice.
“It was about time!” Christine’s voice startled you both.
Quickly turning your head, you sheepishly smiled at her. “How long were you standing there for?”
“Long enough,” she smiled. “Now both of you shoo. I’ve got to get changed.”
You smiled at Strange. Maybe sleepy realisations aren’t that bad, after all.
Sorry if it doesn’t make too much sense, my drug-induced mind cannot comprehend english at the moment :(
Summary: You and Sherlock work together to solve a murder case
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Analyst!Reader
Warning(s): mentions of murder, some science mumbo-jumbo; lemme know if I forgot anything :)
Sherlock stood outside of the forensic lab, drumming his fingers impatiently on the handle of his umbrella. He had a case that required the expertise of a top-notch forensic analyst, and he had been told that you were the best in the business.
Sherlock opened the door and stepped inside, his keen eyes scanning the room for the analyst. He spotted you at your desk, surrounded by test tubes and microscopes, deep in concentration. You looked up as he approached, and your eyes lit up with recognition.
"Sherlock! What brings you here?" you asked, setting down your pipette.
"I have a case, and I need your help," he replied, handing you a file. "I have been called in to investigate a murder case, a young woman was killed in her own home and there seems to be no forced entry. All the possible suspects have alibis, and the police have no leads. The only thing they have found is some fibres and hair samples at the scene that they couldn't match to anyone. I need you to analyse them and see if they can tell us anything about the killer."
You scanned the file quickly, your eyes narrowing in concentration. "I'll need to run some tests, but I should be able to have something for you by tomorrow," you said, rising from your desk. "I'll start by doing a DNA analysis on the hair samples and then run a comparison against the national database. I'll also do some microscopy on the fibres to see if I can identify the type of fabric and where it could have come from."
Sherlock nodded, his mind already racing ahead to the next step of the case. He knew that with the analyst's help, he would be able to solve it in no time.
As they worked together, Sherlock began to notice you in a different light. He couldn't help but be impressed by your intelligence and your dedication to your work. He found himself looking forward to your conversations and the way you challenged him to think differently about the case.
You, in turn, couldn't help but be drawn to Sherlock's sharp mind and his unorthodox methods. You found herself wanting to know more about him, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement whenever he walked into the room.
As you finally cracked the case and brought the perpetrator to justice, Sherlock couldn't help but feel a sense of disappointment that your time working together was coming to an end. He turned to you, "I couldn't have done it without you, thank you. Would you like to grab a cup of tea with me sometime?"
You smiled, "I'd like that very much, Sherlock."
And so began a whirlwind romance between the two, as you continued to work together on other cases, and your bond grew stronger. The chemistry between the both of you was undeniable, and it was clear to everyone around you both that you were meant to be together.
A/N I’m seriously getting back into my Sherlock phase...
Taglist! lemme know if you wanted to be added or removed!
