#gregory lestrade

[starclast]

...Welp! ...I guess this has officially become the fastest intelectual property to which I have done semi-spicy fanart to. You can feel proud @doriana-gray-games 🫴✨

[funtime-roy]

That comic but with Mystrade. Normally, the dynamic I've seen is the opposite, but I don't think Mycroft is shy about anything. He wouldn't want to waste time.

I hate university. Someone make me rich. Now.

[sharedshield]

I‘m watching Young Sherlock for the millionth time now and Lestrade‘s reasoning why Sherlock supposedly killed Thompson makes no sense at all?

Why would Thompson not report the bomb to Hodge or Mycroft or anyone before the ceremony. Greg, how did you even make constable

[neveragent]

Hotshot

Part 1

Greg Lestrade x reader

Summary: Greg doesn't dare to leave your side.

Warnings: coma, alcohol

A/N: It's a bit short, I am sorry.

"How is she?" John asked. He and Greg were standing in the hallway, Greg with his third coffee of the day in his hand. "Not good. She... she was in surgery some hours ago but they weren't able to stitch everything up. She's still bleeding. They wanna try again in the afternoon. But she's weak. She probably won't survive the surgery."

"She will. It's her, after all. She survived so many things already. Stuff that was way worse than this," John tried to calm him down and put his hand on the Inspector's shoulder. "She will run out of luck one day." "Greg, you have to stay positive. For her." "Have you seen her? She's as white as her blanket," he whispered, trying not to cry again. He had lost so many tears already that his head felt like it would explode any second. And his throat was sore. Not only sore. It burned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was sitting next to you, holding your hand, when a nurse came in to prepare you for the upcoming surgery. She tried to get him out of the room but he didn't dare to let go off your. He only gave you free when you were pushed through the door into the surgery room. "She will make it," Mrs Hudson whispered. "Sure," Greg mumbled, but didn't believe his own words. Martha clinged to his arm, while they were sitting in the hallway, waiting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When they brought you back, he nearly threw up. You weren't able to breathe on your own anymore and you looked like your body would breake any second. Gone was the powerful, life loving woman.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Martha was sitting outside with John and Sherlock, while Greg still didn't wanna leave your side.

"C'mon, you can't do this to me. You promised me, remember? When we first met, you promised me a drink. But I, being a fool, never had time. I know you're probably hurt and mad because of that. But don't make me suffer because of it for the rest of my life."

That's when he felt it. A little pressure on his hand. Your now small hand was pressing his. He didn't know if he wanted to cry or laugh. So, he just did both.

"And besides that, London needs you. I am lost without you. I need your guidance to be a good Inspector. Just... Come home," he whispered into your hair, while hugging you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mrs Hudson and John had forced him out of the hospital in the evening. Sherlock was also there, but of course, he didn't care. Why would he?

"I... I can't just leave. What if she wakes up and is all alone. Or what if she dies? She shouldn't be alone if she goes." "I talked to her doctor. She will make it, don't worry," John tried to calm him down. The taxi was entering the road, where the Inspector lived. "But what if..." "For God's sake, she's good, Graham. Just because you're scared you missed your opportunity to tell her about your feelings, doesn't mean, you're allowed to bother us about it." Greg didn't even had any strength left anymore to argue about the wrong name. When the taxi stopped, he got out. "See you," he mumbled and made his way to his apartment.

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"She's awake!" Martha screamed through the phone at 10 a.m. Greg's head was hurting from the loud scream. And maybe also because of some drinks he might've taken last night. After the pain became a bit lighter, he was finally able to understand what the landlady had just said. "Awake?! She... she's okay?" "Yes!"

"I am on my way."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@dciglestrade

[neveragent]

So, there is a German radio drama series called "Inspector Lestrade - Ein Fall für Scotland Yard" (eng. Inspector Lestrade - A case for Scotland Yard), which is set in the original timeline of Sherlock Holmes.

It's basically a spin-off for Lestrade.

But instead of making it a TV show, TV channels like BBC or others are just like

[neveragent]

The reason

Greg Lestrade x reader

Summary: John asks Greg why he became a police officer.

Warnings: mention of rape, kidnapping, killing, death, alcohol, alcohol poisoning, angst

Something that never came to his mind before, was suddenly asked during a random research. John didn't think much about it and just tried to make conversation. "Why did you become a police officer, Greg?" "Nothing specific," Greg mumbled under a breath, while reading an online article. "Oh, c'mon, there must be a reason." "John, that is a common mistake. Always assuming that there must be a deeper reason behind it. Back in his younger years, Lestrade must've been a very athletic man. One with no rich family. He wanted to make a living, had no real interests in anything and decided to use his youth wisely. Then he chose to become a police officer. It brings money and he can use his athletic talent," Sherlock answered in annoyance since he wasn't pleased by the disturbance. "What a nice way to tell me that I became old." "Just stating the obvious." Greg rolled his eyes and continued reading. At least, he wanted to, but his mind didn't let him focus again. If it only would've been as harmless as Sherlock said.

In reality, John was right. There was a deeper reason behind it. It was you. The girl he once knew. When he was a child, he lived only two streets away from you. From time to time, he saw you outside his house. Sometimes with friends, sometimes alone. You were two years older than him but that didn't stop him from admiring you. Maybe it even was another reason for it. And one afternoon -he still remembers it as if it was yesterday- you were wearing that cute white sundress. The freckles were glowing on your nose and your pigtails were swinging. You were laughing at some joke a girl from your friend group had made. He could see the joy in your eyes. It wasn't acted. It was real.

One day, it was during the summer holidays, he met you outside. You were on your way to the beach and your friends were with you once again. But he wanted you to notice him. Just once. He picked a flower from the garden and ran after you. "Excuse me?" You turned around, quite confused but still with a smile on your lips. "Yes?" "This is for you," he said and held out the flower. Your friends were laughing behind you and Greg blushed. But you... you smiled. "Thank you, that's very sweet of you." You took the flower and put it in your hair, which made Greg smile. As you continued your way with your friends, he heard them talking. "He really thinks he's got a chance with you. How pathetic." "Oh, shut up, it was sweet of him. And who knows, he might be handsome when he gets older." "Whatever."

As the years went by, he was still watching you from the window and hoped that one day he might get a chance with you. And when the both of you were teenagers, you saw each other regularly since you had to take the same bus to school. "Morning, Greg," you smiled. It was 6:30 in the morning and you were already smiling. Who knows, maybe you were an alien and that was the reason why you were always happy. "Morning," he mumbled, trying not to fall asleep again. You were standing right next to him and he could even smell your new perfume. Like roses.

Even though you were two years older than him and it might've been embarrassing for you to be seen with him, you were still sitting next to him at the bus every morning. Your head was laying on his shoulder and your eyes were closed. He never dared to move and he always asked himself how he got this close to you. But there was no explanation it just happened. Like an invisible string, you were attached to each other. Never really left each others orbit.

"How about a walk through the forest?" You asked one day after school after you had left the bus. He nodded. From time to time your hands touched each other by accident until he had the courage to take yours. "How about children one day?" You asked like it was clear to share your future with each other. "Sounds great. A house at the coast." "With a stupid white fence?" "If you want it, yes. We could have a garden where our children can play." He tugged your beanie in the right position again. "And a porch where we can sit, watching them." "And every Saturday I'll mown the lawn. And in the evening, we'll have barbecue." "Sounds like a dream." Then you stopped, stood on tiptoes and kissed him. An innocent little kiss. Both of you were grinning into it. But none of you knew that your first kiss would also be the last. Because every dream had to end.

The next day, you weren't standing at the bus stop. He had a bad feeling about it. But maybe you were sick. After all, it was autumn. In the afternoon, he rang your family's doorbell. "Can I see her?" "Oh, she isn't home yet," you mother answered. "I thought she was sick. She wasn't at school today." "She... but she left in the morning." The next hours were blurred. Your mother had called the police, who started searching after 24 hours. Of course, they assumed that you ran away. But you would never. Greg knew that. You wouldn't have left him. Not after yesterday. Not after naming you future children Emma and Holly.

The finding of your body made it into the local news. Some pervert must've kidnapped you on your way to the bus station. Your body was found in the forest and it didn't need an expert to know that you had been raped and killed afterwards. Your mother allowed him to say goodbye to you. When he saw you for the last time, it was the first time he didn't see you smiling or laughing. And that was the day he promised himself to catch the monster who did this to you. And even though he wasn't with you when it happened, he dreamt about it. It haunted him, knowing that you must've been scared to death, while being all alone with your killer. The police wasn't able to find him. That's why he became a police officer. That's why he climbed the career ladder in record time. It took him ten years to catch the man. And only then he was able to feel some sort of rest. But even then... it never fully stopped haunting him.

And some nights, when he drowned himself in bottles of whiskey, he got lost in What Ifs and some nights, when he was near alcohol poisoning, he felt your hand on his shoulder in a desperate attempt of saving him from the feelings of guilt he was carrying.

[funtime-roy]

Graham leaving work.

Some people never stop working, huh

[neveragent]

What Pov should I write next?

Greg Lestrade

Mycroft Holmes

Dwight "Dewey" Riley

Gavin Troy

Phil Callahan

Voting ended onNov 23, 2025

The story that won:

Mycroft Holmes

Kindness is the first step