Summary: @bella-pas Can i request something about Sherlock but placed in the times of The Abominable Bride? Like dances and all that stuff (since Sherlock really enjoy dancing) pls? Someway fluffy if you can
Word Count: 2,039
Pairings: Sherlock x reader
Warnings: OOC Sherlock in some ways, also probable historical mistakes.
A/N: I'm back!!!! A little too rusty, but back nonetheless! Also, it's not precisely fluffy but still I think it's pretty cute.
I looked in the mirror. My hair was pulled into a chiffon, leaving my face beautifully uncovered. My neck was adorned with my mother’s jewels. My evening dress had the most gorgeous pink satin, the low neck made it so that the jewels were the very focal point of the whole look, though my big, puffy sleeves weren’t too far behind. But certainly, my favorite part was the lace that covered the top parts of my dress; it was ivory and had little bows that gave me an increased feminine look.
“Oh, how I love this, mother!” I exclaimed, turning around to meet her glance. She had a strange look on her face. “What is it?”
“My dear, you’re truly a woman now.” She replied as her eyes watered a bit.
I blushed, knowing exactly what she meant. Tonight I would be expected to start finding a husband among my acquaintances and whoever I happened to meet at the ball.
“I promise I will always be your little daughter,” I muttered, trying my best not to join in my mother’s crying.
“It’s time, (y/n)!” My father yelled from the foyer. I kissed my mother’s cheeks, took my ivory-colored gloves, and walked downstairs, followed by my mother.
The carriage was already waiting for us. It was black and pulled by a gorgeous brown pureblood horse. We got in and traveled to the ball.
The venue was a big, beautiful manor on the outskirts of the city. The white-colored facade truly evoked the owner’s wealth, as well as the servants who were outside the lot receiving the carriages. I could hear music playing, which got me in the mood for dancing.
As we got in, I couldn’t help but notice all of the young gentlemen who had assisted. I knew some of them, either from having been friends our whole lives or from recent balls. I greeted all of those whom I had previously acquainted, as well as my girlfriends who were also there trying to find a husband.
There were also servants inside, their job was to serve food and drinks to everyone. Soon, I had two servants near me with glasses of wine and hors d’oeuvres. I only took a glass of wine and thanked them.
“Any good bachelor here tonight?” I asked playfully to one of my friends.
“Many,” She answered with a smirk. “Over there is a very wealthy Lord who is known to throw the most amazing parties at his manor.”
“Better than this?”
“Certainly,” She snapped back.
“I don’t quite like his mustache, though.” We laughed and she continued listing all of the elegible bachelors of the night.
After an hour of dancing with a few of them, whispering began taking place throughout the party.
“What is happening?” I asked another one of my friends.
“The detective is here,” She mumbled, almost as if she feared the newcomer could hear her.
I scanned the room rapidly and soon met an odd-looking gentleman followed by whom I thought to be his companion. The man had a rather strange but handsome face, with wide-set eyes, a long nose, thin lips, and perfectly combed black hair. His companion was shorter and not quite as interesting as the detective.
“Is that the one from the papers?”
“Yes, his name is Sherlock Holmes. I wonder what is he doing here.”
“Maybe he got invited.”
“But he rarely gets invited.”
“My dear friend!” The host’s voice rumbled and everyone else got quiet. “You certainly know how to make an entrance!”
The detective half smiled and approached the host, giving him a proper greeting.
“Sorry for the delay, my dear Watson was taking too long to style his mustache.” The companion rolled his eyes and denied everything.
The host laughed whole-heartedly. “No worries, my friend. But please, have something to drink!” He snapped his fingers, a servant arrived quickly and offered Mr. Holmes a glass of wine.
“I’d rather not, I’m working on a case this week and intend to stay sober for the whole of it.” The servant backed off.
“You’re always working, Holmes.” It wasn't until then that the host noticed the silence. “But what are we all expecting? Play some more music, maestro! Everybody, dance!”
The ball resumed but I was starstruck. A real-life detective right in front of me, and none less than Sherlock Holmes himself.
I was an avid reader of Mr. Holmes’ adventures, though I had only seen drawings of him which, in full honesty, barely reassembled him. He didn’t look quite as I had imagined, though. He was younger, shorter and he looked rather serious. However, I was not to complain, for I found his face very pleasing.
I must’ve been staring because soon I caught his eye. He looked both bothered and pleased at the same time, if that was ever possible of course, and he approached swiftly.
“Can I help you, madame?” He asked.
“Can I help you, sir?” I replied and quickly scolded myself mentally. I was not behaving as a lady should.
However, he found this amusing and laughed shortly.
“Would you care for a dance?” He inquired, extending his hand towards me.
“I would love to.”
We danced a whole piece without speaking a word. He would only observe me from head to toe, and oftentimes would make facial expressions; it was almost as if he were talking to himself.
The piece finished and we bowed. I was about to go back to my corner with my friends when he stopped me.
“I think you are a fairly good dancer and would like to share another piece with you if that’s convenient for you.”
I froze for a second, my mind going faster than the rest of my body. THE Sherlock Holmes was asking ME to dance with him AGAIN. It was a dream out of my wildest fantasies.
“I would like that.”
Another piece went by but this time he was much closer to my face and he kept whispering little facts about me. How could he have know so many things of me by just observing? It was an incredible talent for sure.
The piece ended and I stood there, waiting for another invitation to dance. However, it did not arrive. Instead, Mr. Holmes walked past me towards one of the servants and took a glass of wine from them.
I was confused.
“An absolute oddball, isn’t he?” A male voice spoke from behind me. I turned around and found Mr. Watson smiling at me.
“He certainly isn’t like any gentleman I’ve ever known,” I began speaking, “but I haven’t met many gentlemen for I am still young.”
Mr. Watson seemed pleased with my reply and nodded. We then both looked towards Mr. Holmes as if waiting for his next move.
He finished his glass of wine and left through one of the side doors.
“Do you like games, Miss…”
“Miss (y/n)”
“...Miss, (y/n)?”
“What kinds of games?” I inquired.
“All of them.” He stated.
“I believe I do.” My answer was decided, although I didn’t quite understand the conversation.
“Then I believe you should follow him,” he said. “But beware, he always wins.” With that last warning, Mr. Watson left to follow a servant carrying food.
I stood there a few more seconds, perhaps even a whole minute, just breathing in and out. I wasn’t ladylike to chase after a man, however, this wasn’t just any man. Besides, I would only talk to him… perhaps.
So it was decided.
I walked through the same door Mr. Holmes had gone through. It led to a beautiful garden with statues, fountains, and even a maze. There were a few guests out there, though no one was going as far as Mr. Holmes had.
He was at the maze’s entrance and he looked impatient.
I hurried to meet him, though slowed down my pace when I was nearer to not look desperate. He finally looked at me and smiled.
“You’ve finally come,” he said.
“I didn’t know you were expecting me to,” I replied.
“Oh, please,” he scoffed, “you’re smarter than what you pretend to be.”
I brushed it off with a smile and started analyzing the maze.
“Do you feel like you could solve this?” He inquired.
“Do you?”
He observed me for a couple of seconds.
“What is it with you and answering my questions with more questions?”
I chuckled. “Is that a problem?”
He sighed and offered me his hand.
“Would you like to solve this maze with me?”
“That is quite an offering, Mr. Holmes. Especially since we’re not supposed to be alone with each other without a chaperone.”
“Not a problem,” Mr. Holmes smirked and looked behind.
I turned and found the very Mr. Watson right there.
“Mr. Watson is not an adequate chaperone, I fear.”
“Why not? He is a married man and a faithful one at that.” Mr. Holmes replied.
I must’ve had a terrible facial reaction, for Mr. Holmes gave up and asked me to lead him to my parents. That I did.
“Father, mother, this is Mr. Sherlock Holmes.” I introduced them. Mr. Holmes then introduced Mr. Watson and they all shared a bit of small talk. As it turned out, my father had already been acquainted with Mr. Watson before and was rather fond of him.
“This is a lovely conversation but I’m afraid I must ask something of you right here and now, although it might not be the proper place.”
My parent’s face gloomed. They looked scared, and my mother gave the kind of look that said “What have you done, child?”
Mr. Holmes took in a deep breath.
“I would like to court your daughter.”
My face jaw dropped and I couldn’t help blushing. My mother sighed with relief and my father, though skeptical, nodded.
“I would also like to have Mr. Watson as our chaperone if that agrees with you.”
My parents shared a look and then agreed.
Everything happened rather quickly and soon I was back at the maze with Mr. Holmes and Mr. Watson.
“So, ready to solve a maze?”
“No,” I declared.
“What do you mean no? We already have a chaperone.”
“I know that. But to me, courtship is more of an excuse to make me solve a maze or play games. I want to be courted by a gentleman who truly wants my love and not just someone who is bored.”
“I can assure you, it’s not boredom.” He came closer. “I’ve been working on a case, it’s impossible for me to get bored when…”
“My point still stands, Mr. Holmes.”
He sighed once more, he came even closer, and he took my hands in his.
“Miss (y/n),” he started, “no one had ever accepted a single dance with me without asking too many questions. And, in full honesty, not one of my former dance partners had been quite as splendid as you have.”
“You barely know me, sir.”
“I’m a detective, and the best at it. My job is to know people just by looking at them.” His grip tightened slightly. “Did I not show you how much I know of you with those little facts I dropped.”
“Yes, but…”
“And I am not known for being hurtfully honest?”
“Yes, but…”
“Then why wouldn’t you believe I want to court you?”
I didn’t have an answer. I simply nodded and looked away.
“Please don’t look away, my sweet.”
“I don’t want my reputation ruined for a game.” I insisted.
“You have my word.”
I nodded and followed him into the maze where he allowed me to lead the way.
“Always go left,” I quoted, “that’s what mother says.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works, dear (y/n)” He fumbled.
“Then how do you explain this?” I asked playfully.
The center of the maze was just in front of our eyes. Mr. Holmes looked impressed but defeated if that was ever possible.
“You are magnificent.”
Without any warning, he leaned in to give me a sweet kiss on the lips. His hands holding my face ever so softly, and his chest pressed against mine.
“Mr. Holmes!” I exclaimed when he pulled back.
“Please, call me Sherlock.”
--------------------------------
I really hoped you liked it. And if you did, please consider supporting me further by reblogging.
Summer Retreat (Professor!Cumberbatch x fem!reader)
Another Professor!Cumberbatch fic for you, my lovelies. Bringing back mean Cumberbatch with my beloved @little-diable. Once again please go to her profile and say thank you because she is the one that makes me come back to him. As always please reblog and comment and let me know how you are all doing because it has been far too long and I miss you all so much ❤️
Collab with @little-diable
Warnings: 18+, eventual smut, mostly just them pining for each other.
Pairings: Professor!Cumberbatch x fem!reader (8k words)
“AND… DONE!” You shouted as you clicked the submit button, no more uni, no more assignments, and above it all, no more Cumberbatch.
“Don’t be dramatic,” your best friend rolled her eyes, incredibly exhausted of the greek drama that had been your relationship with your thesis supervisor for the last year.
“Do. not. take. this. away. from. me. You didn’t have to spend the entire summer stuck in a library because your dickhead supervisor was just unhappy with every single one of your drafts. You were at the beach while I was stuck reading page after page of redlining. I am free. I will never need to read the name Cumberbatch anywhere.”
“I am proud of you,” she tried to be supportive, although she could barely take you seriously. It was true, Cumberbatch had been an absolute asshole about the whole process but you had not made the whole ordeal any easier, seeking the most complicated topic possible. You yourself had picked Cumberbatch because of his ruthlessness. A challenge, you had called it. So in reality you had absolutely no right to complain. “When are you leaving?”
“Tomorrow morning, flight leaves at 3 pm.”
“I can’t believe that out of every possible place in the world, you chose to go stay on a random cottage in the mountains,” she huffed her answer.
“I want to relax, to be away from everyone, from the city, from people, from even the scarcest possibility I will run into him.”
“fair enough.”
…
POV Benedict
The streets were rushing past me, my eyes had a hard time focusing on the sights that were blurred by the rain rolling down the windows of the taxi. I felt my jaw muscles tense at every red light, tightening my grip on my phone as I tried to hold back the angry words wanting to leave me.
I was rushing late, the one virtue I have always taken pride in was my punctuality, forcing students to step out of the lecture halls whenever they turned up just a minute too late. And now I was about to miss my flight, the one getaway I’ve been looking forward to for the past weeks, perhaps even months.
“How much longer will it take us?” My voice dripped with annoyance, eyes finding the ones of the taxi driver through his rearview mirror. The man’s eyes flickered back to the street, murmuring “Five more minutes”, voice laced with a tone that matched mine.
The seconds fading by felt like days I had been forced to endure, staring into the faces of bored students, those that tried to listen but miserably failed to understand simple concepts, those that didn’t even try to pay attention, already accepting that they’d fail my class. And then there was (yn), the one student that had always challenged me, though not with her smart answers or her clever homework, but the determination to watch me struggle.
“We’re here, sir.” With my eyes snapping back towards the driver I forced myself out of my thoughts, pushing a few bank notes into his outstretched hand before I rushed through the airport. I barely focused on the security check, barely focused on the people that called out to me as I pushed past them.
With my eyes set on the terminal counter I rushed past a queue of people wanting to board the same flight I had booked. The woman working at the counter watched me approach with her eyebrows furrowed and her painted lips pulled into a fake smile, waiting for me to start speaking.
“I’ve been stuck in traffic, I’m so sorry! I’m booked for business class.” She watched me for a few seconds, gaze wandering up and down my frame before she slowly parted her lips, about to reply.
“We are all business class here, so have the decency to wait till it’s your turn.” An all too familiar voice rang in my ears, forcing me to slowly turn around. A groan threatened to claw through me as my eyes met the now growing big ones of (yn). “Professor Cumberbatch?”
Well, fuck me.
…
I looked away, ignoring her, trying my best to not let the embarrassment of the interaction tint my cheeks as I stepped to the back of the queue.
I held my head low as I hope she would ignore me too but instead I felt her gaze linger on me.
Brilliant. Exactly what I needed. A student to be on the same flight as me. I felt a migraine start in the center of my forehead. It is okay. It is just the flight I reminded myself. In just four hours I shall be free from anybody or anything related to the university.
I finally arrived at the front of the queue and presented my ticket. The woman at the counter gave me a courteous smile as I walked through, down the hall and into the plane. I scanned the seats for my number and watched as no other than my most consequential sat in the empty seat by its side.
Her eyes were fixated on me, a mix of disbelief and something else in her gaze. She watched me put my bag on the top compartment as I tried my best to keep my eyes away from her. She seemed completely determined to meet my gaze.
I took the seat by her side and exhaled, at least glad to not have missed my flight.
“Vacation?” She interrupted my peace again. Why was she trying to talk to me?
“Yes.” I kept my eyes ahead, her gaze burning against my skin.
“Not a fan of the sea?”
I did not reply, instead putting my earphones on and closing my eyes. This was about to be a long flight.
She seemed to take the hint, making no further attempts to talk to me.
Food was served two hours later. The hostess approached us with a smile, asking us what we would like to eat.
“I will take the soup, the steak and a glass of Sauvignon Noir.” I told the stewardess and avoided turning to look at (yn).
The woman looked at my student, waiting for her response. “Hi Jennie, yes. I will take the same for food, a glass of whiskey for me. Bring Benedict one too.”
I couldn’t help myself, glancing at her, a shocked look on my face as I searched her eyes. She however kept her eyes on the stewardess. I had never heard her say my name. It felt like an insult, a dig at my rudeness.
“Perfect, I will be right back.”
She put her earphones on, not even glancing my way and did not try to talk to me again for the rest of the flight.
…
YOUR POV
Your steps were quick, eyes focused ahead, hoping that you could pick up your luggage before the crowd of people slowly following you would catch up. You didn’t dare look back, didn’t dare look at the hot awful professor who had been sitting next to you, clearly struggling with your closeness.
A proud sense of victory had flushed through your veins as he had stared at you, wide eyes watching you interact with the stewardess, a sense of kindness a man of his kind was no longer familiar with. An awfully rude, stuck up, but fucking handsome man like him.
You could see the luggage bands from afar, sighing in relief as you came to a halt. With your eyes flickering down to your phone you didn’t pick up on the way Cumberbatch studied you, slowly coming to a halt right next to you. No words left either one of you, eyes snapping towards the now approaching luggage.
Your mouth was burning, lips struggling to stay pressed together, but you tried to hold back. As much as you wanted to speak to him, for the fun of annoying him, you couldn’t endure another rude word leaving his mouth, you’d snap, you’d tell him how awful he could be. Nothing you wanted to deal with as your tiredness slowly caught up with you.
One suitcase after another rolled past the two of you, eyes impatiently trying to locate your own luggage, though without any luck. Slowly the crowd around you grew less and less, thinning out as you still waited for theirs.
“Do you think they lost our luggage?” You kept your voice soft, without any strength guiding the words rolling off your tongue. It took the professor a few moments to reply, eyes finding yours as a sigh left him.
“Seems like it, wait here, I’ll try to find somebody.” You got no time to reply, watching the man with his spotless suit disappear within the crowd of other people. But no matter how many people would surround him, your eyes would always find him, the odd one out that never seemed to fit in. His posture was too straight. His curls were too curly. His eyes were too piercing. No matter what it was, he always seemed to add an extra touch that left your insides churning and your blood rushing.
It was pathetic, really, a crush so painful yet so thrilling. There was nothing you could hold onto, no interaction that gave you even the smallest bit of hope that he liked you too, professor Cumberbatch detested you, he avoided you like you were a deadly virus made to kill him, but you couldn’t let go of the thoughts racing through your mind. He was everywhere you went, following you like a shadow, at least the thought of him did.
“Seems like our suitcases didn’t make it here. Where are you going from here? They need an address.” The professor’s voice ripped you out of your daydreams, hazy eyes finding his cold, almost distanced ones.
“At the mountain retreat, it’s about an hour from here, I think.” His eyes grew wider, pupils dilated as if you were threatening him, forcing him to make a decision of life or death. Silent curses left him, words you couldn’t pick up on as you stared at him with confusion laced in you gaze.
“Seems like we had the same plans for our vacation getaway.” Slowly it dawned on you, eyes growing just as wide as you realised that he was staying at the same retreat.
—-
You barely had to do any talking for the next two hours. The professor taking it upon himself to advocate for both of your bags to be delivered as soon as humanly possible to your resort. He had used the same tone he used to speak to you and your classmates, belittling everyone who would not agree or obey his orders instantly.
The airline people could not do much else than agree with him, apologise profusely, and promise him every refund and offer that they could think of.
“You also will be compensated for any clothes you need to purchase until your bags get delivered tomorrow.”
The words finally forced you to clock back into the conversation as your professor turned back to you, giving you your boarding pass and a handful of other papers including vouchers and already filled out forms.
“How were you planning on getting there?” He spoke your way, his blue eyes piercing through you.
“Taxi.”
“You can come with me. I have a driver picking me up.”
“I need to get some clothes for tonight. It-“
“I need to do the same. You have already infiltrated my vacation. I can bear a couple more hours.”
…
“Should we just meet here again in, I don’t know, twenty minutes?” Your voice rang in his ears as you walked through the mall, exhaustion dripped from your words, filling your every vein. The day had been long, adventurous, and somewhat fucked up, thoughts racing, heart pounding, palms sweaty, all thanks to him.
“No, we’ll stick together, I don’t want to waste any more time waiting for you.” His harsh words left you groaning, choking on a quiet “You stereotypical asshole” he either didn’t hear or simply chose to ignore.
The professor walked ahead of you, forcing you to follow him through the store, picking up shirts, dress shirts, another pair of trousers, and some underwear. On another day you’d have studied him intently, would have picked up on every move of his, on every expression tugging on his features, but right now all you wanted to do was hide away, searching the comfort of your bed, of the quietness you had hoped the retreat could offer her.
“It’s astonishing how lost you always are, but it’s good to know that you’re not just like this in my classes.” Once again did his words ripped you out of yours thoughts, blinking a few times to let go of your hazy state. Angry words threatened to leave you, wanting to argue with the stuck up man, but you kept quiet, turning away from him as you browsed through the women’s section.
You felt his eyes on you, watching how you halfheartedly thumped through different sections, picking up comfortable shirts you could wear, trousers, and a new sweater. The second you stepped foot into the underwear section you had expected him to halt, not daring to follow you around like a shadow, but he kept following you, seemingly not picking up on the heat flushing through your system.
You stood by the counter, trying to decide which outfit to take and which to leave as the total would be above the airliners allowance, cursing the Professor for choosing such an expensive store to buy from. The professor however didn’t give you any chance to pick, snatching the clothes from your hands as he turned towards the cashier. You stared at him for a few seconds before your mind caught up with what he was about to do.
“I can pay for the clothes.” But all the professor did was shake his head, silencing you with the way he swiped his credit card, paying for both of your clothes. Your mouth felt dry, hating that your heart began to swell in your chest, once again growing rather fond of the man who acted like he hated you like Menelaus had hated Paris, starting a deadly war that would forever change the course of history.
You could only guess that your stay at the retreat would change your relationship, for better or worse, only time would be able to tell. And with a small “Thank you” leaving you, you followed him out of the store, back to his driver.
…
The car ride to the retreat was deathly silent. You kept your eyes on the street and tried to ignore how nice he looked sitting by your side, just the middle seat dividing you.
He did the same, working on his phone, mumbling under his breath words of disapproval every now and then. You were about to arrive at your stay when he chuckled, calling your attention to him. He turned his screen to you, showing you a pdf document.
“Seems like your dissertation is next.” He chuckled again, but you could barely restrain yourself from talking back, utterly disgusted that he was reading any dissertation as if it was the newspaper, on his way to his luxury vacation. “Expectations are high.”
You didn’t answer, thankful that the car came to a halt. “We are here,” the driver spoke.
—-
The two of you separated as soon as you were out of the car, heading to the reception at your own pace. He arrived first giving you his back as he talked to the woman on the other side of the counter.
She nodded and looked at him as if he was the only thing in the room, as everybody did. He was escorted to his room as soon as he was done talking. He didn’t even look your way or acknowledge the time you had just spent together, simply walking away.
—-
You could barely sleep that night. The thought that that asshole was reading the hardest piece of research you had ever worked on while getting a massage made your blood boil. You turned and tossed in the panties he had bought you, that he had held in his hands together with the rest of the clothes you were wearing.
It made your skin burn, the thought of his touch even just indirectly on you waking a fire inside you. Your mind moved to the way he had commanded everybody at the store, so sure of himself, so decisive. He knew exactly what button-up to get, what cotton shirt, and the pyjama shorts he had gotten. You swallowed loudly, pressing the pillow against your face, trying your best to remove him from your thoughts.
—-
For the next two days you had assumed your professor had rebooked the next flight home and left. You had not seen him anywhere, not even when your luggage had been delivered by the airline.
You had initially tried to convince yourself that it was a good thing. Good riddance. And yet, you found yourself looking for him everywhere, picking your best outfits in case you ran into him at dinner, in the garden for breakfast, in the spa, anywhere.
You couldn’t help but constantly wonder what he was doing. Whether he was done reading your dissertation… whether he had enjoyed it. That night you decided to sign up for a hike the day after. That would free your mind from him, it would finally allow you to enjoy the vacation you had paid so much for.
---
With tiredness dripping from your every movement, you found yourself walking towards the meeting spot of the hike, not awake enough just yet. A yawn clawed through you as you joined the small group, a sound that got stuck in your throat as soon as your gaze fell onto an all too familiar face.
This must be some sick joke of fate, you were sure of it.
“Seems like we’re complete. Good morning guys, my name is Daniel, just call me Dan if you want.” Your eyes snapped towards Cumberbatch, unable to bite down your grin as the corners of his mouth were pulled down, he hated nothing more than nicknames, short forms of names that made no sense to the man who found pride in his every title. “We’ve got quite some hours ahead of us, I’d advise you to find yourself a hiking buddy for the upcoming hours, just in case you need some help. Any questions before we start?”
You barely paid Dan’s voice any attention, unable to draw your gaze away from the professor. Where had he been hiding? Had he purposely avoided crossing paths with you? Were you that awful to be around? His hot and cold demeanour towards you always left you with a painful headache, unable to tell what he wanted from you; a childish game he seemed to find enough joy in to keep on dragging it out.
Even though your body screamed for you to move towards him, to force him to be your hiking buddy, as Dan had called it, you didn’t dare move. You watched the others pair up, instantly lured into conversations, small talk you have always struggled with.
“How about you walk a bit with me, huh?” Dan’s voice ripped you out of your thoughts, eyes flickering from his friendly ones towards the piercing, cold ones of Cumberbatch. The man was already staring at you, lips pulled into a thin line. And with a smile glued to your lips, you murmured a tired though friendly “Sure!”
…
You had walked with Dan for about an hour, pulled into exchanges you couldn’t even remember by now. Somewhere along the way your professor had managed to join the conversation, voice dripping with something you couldn’t pinpoint. Perhaps he was simply as tired as you were, perhaps he was annoyed by the cold that nibbled on his limbs, but perhaps, just perhaps, it had something to do with the way Dan kept looking at you.
The guy was handsome, you couldn’t deny it, but yet you found no interest in him, thoughts guided by the way your heart raced whenever Cumberbatch spoke up, focusing on the richness of his voice, on the way he managed to express himself oh so cleverly. Fuck, you felt like a schoolgirl, crushing on a man who’d never pay you enough attention to realise how smart, how cunning, how beautiful you truly were. Longings like clouds moving on the dark sky above, carrying rain that would clash to the earth miles and miles away from where they were supposed to rain down. A hopeless ache. A hopeless longing. A hopeless reality.
“So, what did you do in the last days?” Your voice rang in your ears, speaking the words before your mind could register what you were doing. The professor’s eyes met yours, clearing his throat as he pondered over the question.
“I had to join some last minute meetings, seems like I can’t get away from work, no matter how hard I try.” You couldn’t stop your chuckles from bubbling out of you, a sound that forced his eyebrows to furrow, wondering where your amusement came from.
“As if you’d ever willingly take a break from work. We both know you don’t take any rest.” No matter how hard he tried to stop his lips from forming a small grin, he couldn’t stop his body from reacting to the teasing. You took it as a win, wondering if you had ever seen him smile - or at least give the smallest illusion of a smile - before.
“Careful, (y/n), you don’t want to mess with me before you get your grade, now do you?” No reply left you, thoughts interrupted by Dan’s voice. The words he spoke echoed through the forest, eyes taking in the beautiful nature you were surrounded by. The trees around you stood tall, shielding your group from the sun threatening to break through the leaves, the scent of the forest, of the muddy soil you kept trodding through crawled up your nostrils, instantly relaxing your muscles.
“Be careful on the next few miles, yesterday’s rain made the ground quite muddy, as you can tell. Don’t hesitate to ask your buddies for some help.” Once again the group started walking, once again you walked next to the professor without speaking a single word. The situation had something awkward though amusing to it, trying to find a conversation topic to break the silence.
But before you could even try to speak up once again, you found yourself slipping, hands grasping the nearest thing you could hold onto before your face would meet the muddy ground. The professor’s hands had shot out to steady you, placed comfortably against your waist. Your eyes met his, pupils dilated as the man stared down on you.
Your heart was racing, pounding in your chest as your eyes started flickering from his eyes to his thin lips. Fuck, you had lost count on the amount of times you thought about kissing him, wondering if and how he’d touch you. You could only guess that he’d instantly dominate the situation, he wouldn’t give you any room to guide, that much you were sure of.
The professor seemed to struggle just as much as you did, hands still glued to your frame, eyes finding your lips. It felt as if you were moving closer, just slowly, carefully, testing the uneasy, unfamiliar waters the two of you kept rowing through like small boats caught in a thunderstorm. The first bolt of lightning struck your boat, setting the wood ablaze, instantly sinking to the cold ground.
Without another warning he pulled back from you, hands finding their way to his sides as if he suddenly got disgusted by his own actions. His eyes found yours once again, just for a short moment, before he started walking. It seemed as if he tried to get as much distance between the two of you as possible, instantly succeeding with his fast steps.
You could just stare at him, giving yourself a few more seconds before you also started walking, trying to swallow down your embarrassment.
—
The feeling of embarassment persisted after the hike. You were thankful when you returned to the resort and went your separate ways. You took a quick shower, trying to remove whatever was left of his touch from your body and then went straight to the sauna, in need of the heat and sweat.
It was perfect, so incredibly perfect. Your thoughts were hazy from the heat and you felt yourself sweat everything out, your stress, your desire for him, absolutely everything and then, just then, the door of the sauna opened. He stood on the other side of the door, a towel around his waist and a frozen look on his face. He was thinking, making a decision. You expected him to close the door again, walk away, the same way he had avoided you for the past three days. Instead, he stepped in, did not utter a word and sat as far away from you as possible.
Neither of you spoke for the next five minutes, which felt like five hours to both of you and then you couldn’t help yourself, the thoughts of your dissertation haunting you all week.
“How is grading my dissertation going?”
He laughed bitterly, glancing your way, his eyes lingering on you a little longer than normal. “Boring read, I have gone through it so many times in the past 3 months that I don’t even know if you deserve a grade. I pretty much designed the whole thing. You barely wrote it.”
Your jaw tensed as he looked away, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the wooden board, letting you admire how his adam’s apple bobbed. You wanted to kill him. Asshole. Douchebag. Pi- and yet your eyes were stuck on him, lingering and lowering, following the small droplets of sweat down his firm chest, his stomach, h-
“I am kidding of course. I need to give you a grade. I could not bare having to work on it with you for another year.” He opened his eyes, you whipped your gaze up to him immediately, sadly too late. He had already noticed the way you had been looking at him. Something crossed his gaze but he looked away, almost as if he wanted to get rid of the thought.
“A good grade.” You suddenly spoke and he seemed to be taken aback by your directness.
“We shall see,” he kept his nonchalant tone but you held his gaze, defiant.
“I deserve a good grade. I worked harder than anybody else in the course. Any of your other students.” You spoke leaning forward. Although the two of you were sitting on opposite sides of the sauna, the distance felt suddenly smaller.
He couldn’t help himself, as you leaned forward his gaze flickered to your glistening chest. His throat bobbing before he looked away.
You felt that familiar pull on your centre, feeling your gaze grow slightly hazy as you realised he may be struggling with your proximity as much as you did.
You opened your lips to say something but he stood quickly, breaking eye contact and walking out without saying anything else.
……
With one last glance thrown at your reflection, you stepped out of the elevator. Your shoes met the ground with every cautious step you took, trying to ignore the racing thoughts that wouldn’t ever allow you to rest. Wherever you went, the thought of him seemed to follow you around, whenever you closed your eyes, his piercing ones seemed to stare down on you, forcing you to dream of him.
The past moments you shared with your professor kept racing through your thoughts, making you wonder if he was also thinking of you. Your eyes browsed your surroundings, walking towards the area where dinner was being held, outside in the middle of the mountains, railings decorated with fairy lights, casting a beautiful shadow onto the tables for two.
And there he stood, appearing like Caspar Friedrich’s painting “Wanderer above the Sea of Fog”. With his back turned your way he seemed to admire the area as well, finally allowing himself to breathe calmly. Wordlessly you came to a halt next to him, patiently waiting to be seated, not daring to strike up yet another conversation that would leave you embarrassed and humiliated.
“Table for two?” The waiter’s eyes flickered between your and Cumberbatch’s bright ones, starting to walk towards a table near the railing, not waiting for your reply. The professor’s eyes met yours before he followed the man with a sigh clawing through him, forcing you to mimic his movements, sinking into the comfortable chair in front of him. “I’ll be back in a few to take your orders.”
No words were shared between the two of you as you browsed the menu, wondering what to order, while your thoughts couldn’t concentrate on the printed words, eyes struggling to stay focused. Your body screamed at you to look at him, feeling his eyes burn your skin, like they’d always do whenever your paths crossed, outside of uni or in the middle of his classes.
“So,” he cleared his throat. “Did you enjoy your day?” Your eyes grew bigger, wondering if he was truly trying to start a conversation with you. An unfamiliar warmth flooded through you, eyes forced away from his in an almost pathetic attempt to select fitting words, sentences that wouldn’t give off another bad impression.
“I did, I went on another hike, it’s such a beautiful area, I want to experience as much of it as possible. What about you? Did you manage to take a break from working?” Before he could reply the waiter found its way back to you, carefully listening to your orders, writing down the drinks and dishes your hearts were aching for.
“I tried to take it slow, and finally managed to finish a book I’ve been reading for the past weeks.” You found yourself hanging onto his every word as if he was sharing ancient secrets with you, letting you in on theories not even the smartest scientists were fortunate enough to pick up on. And with another wave of heat flushing through you, you finally were able to relax, letting go of the tension he always forced through your veins.
……
“Oh god, don’t remind me, please, that was horrible.” He tilted his head back as another laugh clawed through him, eyes momentarily fluttering close. Your eyes focused on his hand, watching him reach for his almost empty glass of wine. His adam’s apple bobbed as he drowned the last sip, you’ve lost count on the glasses the both of you have drowned by now, enjoying the carefree atmosphere that was almost unfamiliar to the both of you.
“You were so angry with him, I almost felt pity for you.” His eyes met yours, no longer as sharp and bright as they were hours ago, a hazy coat had laid itself to rest on his pupils, guided by the alcohol thumping through his veins. You were just as tipsy, but you couldn’t spare the way your body reacted to the glasses of wine you had fostered any attention, too happy about finally being able to share a proper conversation with the professor.
“I always wonder what goes on in your head when you’re in my classes.” You couldn’t hold the intense eye contact he tried to lure you into, focusing on the empty glass of yours, fingertips stroking along the wet rim. “You always seem so distracted, yet you always get the highest grade on your assignments. What is your trick?”
You watched a smirk tug on his lips, hand no longer placed in his lap, but on the table, dangerously close to yours. With your breath hitched on your chest you allowed yourself to stare at his slender fingers for a few seconds, wondering how it must feel to be touched by him.
“Maybe I’m just bored by your teaching?” Your chuckles forced another laugh out of the tall, handsome professor, slowly shaking his head. You mimicked his smile, unable to rip yourself out of the grasp he now held on your body and soul, forever trapped by him.
“We both know that that is not true, I feel your eyes on me, if I wouldn’t know it any better I’d say you’re distracted by me.” An untameable heat thumped through your veins, a heat so biting you feared your body would go up in flames any moment now. Your thighs clenched together, guided by the forbidden imaginations now filing your thoughts, improper, dangerous thoughts.
“I’m sorry, I have to interrupt.” The sweet voice of an elderly lady interrupted your conversation, eyes snapping towards her. A smile began to widen on her painted lips as she studied the both of you. “I have to ask, how long have you been together? It’s beautiful to watch the two of you, it’s been years since I’ve got to admire such chemistry between a couple.”
“Oh,” your smile fell, clearing your throat as your eyes found his now hardening ones. “We’re no couple.”
“Oh, I am so sorry! You look so in love, I was clearly fooled by it. Have a good evening you two.” An uncomfortable silence followed, eyes unable to find their way back together, stuck on the words that still rang in your ears. Benedict rose to his feet without another warning, throwing down his napkin, opening his wallet, dropping a couple of hundred bills with the cold demeanour you knew just like the back of your hand.
“If you’ll excuse me, I am tired, it’s best I head to bed.” He didn’t look at you, his expression almost bored as he turned to walk away from you.
You were left speechless, your jaw ajar as you watched him leave. Be it the wine or the whiplash from his behaviour you walked right behind him, almost running to catch up.
“Bened-“ you started to speak but were immediately shushed by him stopping in his tracks and turning. You crashed against his body. He pulled you away from him, with a disgusted expression.
“Nobody has given you permission to call me that,” he spoke in a freezing tone, looking down at you with complete indifference.
“But-“ you tried to refute him, pointing out the fact that you had been calling him that for most of the dinner but he interrupted you again.
“You need to learn to keep your distance. Crashing my vacation was one thing but this game you are playing, it needs to stop.”
You felt your stomach turn, suddenly nauseous by his nasty words. “I am not playing any game. I have nothing to gain from this.”
“Oh don’t you? I am sure it is a coincidence that you are doing- doing whatever you are doing to your thesis supervisor. I am sure it is a coincidence that just days ago you turned in the most important piece of coursework you have ever written and I am the one that has to grade it.”
You felt his words physically hit you, stepping back as you looked at him in complete disbelief. “How dare you.”
“No. How dare you?” He stepped forward, “use whatever weakness I have for your nonsensical character for your own advantage. I thought you were better than that. Is your work so poor that you need to resort to this?”
You didn’t answer him. You were not about to give him the privilege to see you cry. You turned around and started walking, kept on walking until you were in your room, bag opened, clothes packed, ready to go back home the next day and never see the Professor again.
——
POV BENEDICT
Two days back into the semester and I still could not stop thinking about the vacation, about how awful I had been to her. I hadn’t meant to accuse her… it had just left my lips. Better that accusation than what I actually wanted to say, to do.
I thought about apologising, about reaching out but I realised it didn’t matter. She was gone. She had received her grade, by far the highest grade that I’ve ever given a dissertation. There was nothing my apology would bring.
The more I thought about what I had done the more disgusted I was at myself. Her research was immaculate, a true show of passion. She did not need to flirt or be polite to me to ensure a good grade, her work spoke for itself. And yet, I had accused her of such lowly behaviour.
It did not matter. I had to move on. To stop letting her invade my thoughts. She was gone. She would n— and yet there she stood. I froze in my path, watching as she shook the hand of the dean and walked into his office, just two doors down from mine.
I must have imagined it. No. Yet, her laugh echoed before the door closed and her so familiar overflowing bag followed her as she walked in the room.
No. I shook myself awake, ignoring the stares of some students as they walked past me, rushing to get to class. I entered my office and sat down, opening Google. Hallucinations and their causes.
—-
I walked to my class that afternoon, quickly making my way through the different hallways. It was still 30 minutes till the start of my lecture, so I got to pick up on the sounds of the different talks being given in my department and suddenly, I was stopped in my tracks. My head whipping to a side, looking into the small window of the classroom and seeing her.
Her in a beautiful white button-up, some suit trousers and a pair of heels, commanding the whole room. Everyone’s eyes were on her and why wouldn’t they be when she looked like that?
“So yes, that is all the insight I can give you into my career path. I know you are just starting but I hope this has been helpful and it can expand upon your options. Thank you for listening so attentively, if you have any questions I will take them now.”
I felt my stomach turn at the sound of her voice, unable to step away as I watched students, mostly male, lift their hands eagerly to ask her questions. I continued watching her, enthralled, until a student seemed to point at the door, at me. I backed away immediately and started walking away, when I heard the click of her heels behind me.
“Professor,” she spoke in an airy tone. I exhaled before turning around, preparing to have this conversation. My eyes instantly found hers, drawn to the like a moth to a flame, fuck, I felt one flashback after another race through my mind, this is why I needed to distance myself, this is why I can’t stand being around her, not used to the power she holds over me.
“(Y/n), you’re teaching now? Here?” I watched the corners of her mouth lifting her lips into a smile, a smile that left my insides churning.
“I do, didn’t you read the welcome email the department sent out yesterday morning?” Her eyes momentarily flickered back to her classroom, knowing that she’d have to return any moment now. I felt my throat growing tighter, unable to speak another word, at least for the next few seconds where I allowed myself to study her.
“I didn’t, but you know how it is, we always get too many emails at the start of the semester. Feel free to come by my office in the next few days, I’ll let you get back to your students now.” Without waiting for her reply, I turned away from her, forcing myself to search the distance, needing to back away before I’d no longer be able to guide my body.
……
YOUR POV
“Professor?” Your voice echoed through the office, eyes focused on his frame. He seemed to be deep in thought, eyes focused on the stack of papers covering his desk. His piercing eyes shot towards your frame, straightening his posture.
“(Y/n), please, come, sit.” It felt unfamiliar to catch the sweet tone of his voice, not used to hearing him speak this softly. Carefully you closed the door, walking towards the chair placed in front of his desk. He watched your every move, and you couldn’t help but wonder what was going through his head as he held eye contact.
“I,” he cleared his throat, placing his pen down before he slowly sunk back in his chair. “I think I have to apologise. I am sorry for the way I spoke to you, that wasn’t fair of me.” Your heart raced, just like your thoughts did. Did he actually just apologise? Did the man who never dared to even start a proper conversation with another colleague let alone another student actually apologise to you?
“Can I ask why you did it though? I’d lie if I said your words didn’t hurt me. They were cruel, even for you, professor.” He kept watching you, tongue kissing his teeth, seemingly pondering over his next words. You felt the tension rising, it felt like you were close, close to forcing a confession out of him you’ve dreamt of hearing him speak for months on end, yet deep down you knew that you were too delusional for your own good, at least when it came to him.
“Please, Benedict’s just fine. You see, (y/n), you were by far the brightest student I ever crossed paths with, you could have easily taken over my course. I didn’t trust myself around you, no professor should cherish this kind of interest in their student. And to put it quite frankly, I still don’t trust myself around you.” Your mouth felt dry, throat in knots. Was that it? Did he finally give into what you desperately had hoped to hear him speak? Heat flushed through your system, a heat so biting you were forced to avert your gaze, focusing on your trembling fingers. “I am sorry, I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, especially not since we’re seemingly colleagues now.”
“I don’t feel uncomfortable. It’s just a lot to process, I guess. You’ve always treated me like you hate me more than anything else. You were always so rude to me. And I felt so stupid for crushing on you.” Now it was his turn to stumble over his words, eyes zoning in on your features once again. It took him a few moments to rise to his feet, rounding the table, slowly, all too slowly for your linking. No longer could you pay your thoughts any of your attention, solemnly focusing on the way he kept moving, on the darkening gaze stuck to your features.
“I should tell you to leave before either one of us does something we can’t walk away from.” Whispers, nothing but silent whispers you didn’t reply to. You rose to your feet with trembling legs, standing close to him, oh so close. His eyes focused on your lips, a clear sign that gave you the push you needed, hand finding his.
“Don’t, don’t push me away again.” No further word was spoken, allowing a crackling silence to wrap its arms around the two of you. His big hand found your face, carefully cupping your cheek, pulling you even closer. With your breath hitched in your chest you tried to stand still, giving him enough time to ponder over his next move. But before you could give into your thoughts, wondering why he was still hesitating, Benedict had finally closed the gap between you.
The kiss was slow, though fuelled with a biting heat that made their hairs rise at the nape of your neck, forcing your hands to find his shirt, clinging to him. Slowly he turned the two of you around, pushing you onto his desk, wrapping your legs around his middle. All the emotions flushing through your veins kept forcing the two of you to keep on going, to deepen the kiss with your tongues meeting and your teeth almost clashing together.
Quiet moans ripped through you, forcing a few chuckles out of the smirking man, allowing him to part from you for a few seconds. You didn’t need to speak any words to communicate, lips finding back together after a few moments, hearts begging one another to keep going, to finally give into the deep longing you’ve been addicted to for months.
“You can always tell me to stop, don’t hesitate.” His soft words left your heart swelling, forcing you to nod your head before your lips searched his once again. Your hands started working on his trousers, undoing the belt of his you’ve found yourself staring at at any given chance. The cold metal felt heavy in your hands, momentarily distracting you from his wandering lips, kissing their way down your throat. “I should take my time with you, but I can’t take another single minute away from you.”
“Don’t stop, please, I need you to fuck me, been waiting for it for so long.” His chuckles vibrated on your skin, forcing goosebumps to rise. Benedict’s skilled fingers helped you out of your blouse, pushing the fabric of your skirt up to your waist, desperate to get rid of the layers of clothing keeping you separated.
“Tell me, love, tell me how much you need me.” With your trembling hands pushing the zip of his trousers down, pulling his hardening cock free, you gave room for another gasp to leave you, finally able to feel him pressed against your skin. Your eyes flickered up to meet his before you pushed him away, giving yourself enough space to drop to your knees.
“So much, been dreaming of being touched by you for months, I touched myself to the thought of you fucking me too many times.” A deep groan left the professor, hand finding your head as you parted your lips, taking his twitching cock into your mouth. You struggled to take much of him, deeply exhaling through your nose, moving slow as your mouth tried to adjust to his size.
His hand grasped your hair tightly, clinging to you as if you were about to slip right through his fingers. It was a sight so unreal you were no longer sure if you weren’t just stuck in another daydream. The sounds rippling through him were sinful, sounds so dreamy you hoped that this wasn’t the last time you’d get to hear them.
You parted from him, taking a few deep breaths as your tongue flickered over his tip, letting the taste of him stick to your tongue. Every now and then your eyes met his, picking up on the pleasure swimming in his pupils, picking up on the fire simmering deep inside of him.
Impatiently he tugged on your hair, jerking his hips to force his cock back into your mouth. You gagged around him, eyes rolling into your head to try and keep calm. Benedict started fucking your mouth, abusing the warmth engulfing him with curses rolling off his tongue.
“Fucking hell, such a pretty sight, you on your knees for me, for me only.” You hummed around him, unable to stop your heart from skipping a few beats. He gave it a few more seconds before he pushed you away, pulling you up with trembling limbs. Once again your lips met his, sharing a sloppy kiss he used to let his hands wander, pushing your damp panties to the side, fingers exploring your dripping cunt. Your heart kept accelerating its beat, body melting in his tight grasp. “Turn around for me, love, hands on the desk.”
Almost gently you were pushed down onto the desk, front meeting the expensive wood. You heard him fumble with his clothes, seemingly ripping open a condom he rolled down on his cock before he aligned himself with your heat, slowly pushing into you from behind. The both of you gasped in unison, momentarily freezing to adjust to the sensation.
Benedict didn’t give you another warning as he started fucking you from behind, fingertips digging into the flesh of your waist, marking you as his. Your moans kept roaring through you, reverberating through the office like a new song he was listening to for the first time, finding enjoyment in the way his heart swelled in pride.
“You have to be quiet if you don’t want any other professors to hear how good I’m fucking you.” The way he almost growled his words had your walls clenching around his cock, teeth buried in your lower lip to try and stay quiet. Tears of desperation welled up in your eyes, hands tightening their grip on the edge of his desk, needing to hold onto something before you’d give in too soon.
His cock kept disappearing deeper inside of you with every ferocious thrust, skin meeting yours over and over again. Your jaw muscles kept twitching, teeth forced together as he wrapped one arm around your middle, thumb circling your clit. Your body kept twitching, about to give in, hanging onto the last strands of strength before he pushed you over the edge.
You came with a sob clawing through you, letting the intense sensation flush through your system. Benedict kept fucking you through your high, chasing his own release, set on leaving you sore for the upcoming days. With your heart still racing and your blood singing in your ears you listened to the groan leaving him as he came.
“You don’t know how much strength it took me to not touch you on the vacation.” His words drowned out your gasps, slowly pulling out of you to throw away the used condom, slowly redressing himself. You mimicked his movements, trembling hands working on your clothes before you combed them through your hair.
“If you’re back to being an asshole tomorrow I’ll throw a fit in the middle of the hallway, I promise you that much, professor.”
He pulled you back to him, a smirk stamped on his lips, pressing a confident kiss on yours. “Don’t worry, I am planning on,” his lips moved to your neck, making you gasp slightly, “being incredibly good to you.”
—-
You were not sure what you spent more time doing that semester, bending over his desk or lecturing. Regardless, you had never been more eager to go to university.
....
Liv's Note
Hope everyone enjoyed our latest collaboration! I have missed you all so much, especially as the one-year anniversary of the last chapter of AHL is approaching. I can't believe it has been so long. I promise I will come back with something soon, although you may be a little tired of the professor!fics haha so let me know if you'd like something different. Sending you all my love and can't wait to read your comments! As always reblog to support my writing :)
AYO I CANT BELIEVE PEOPLE ARE STILL OUT THERE MAKING BBC!SHERLOCK CONTENT!!! I was like “welp the shows over the fandoms dead byeeee” BUT ITS NOT😭😭🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹
Currently on a small Tumblr break but I can't get this out of my head...
I just watched the BBC Sherlock special The Abominable Bride again because it's back on PBS and I have this idea.
What if what's in Sherlock's slipper is not his solution but instead is an relief or a cure because Sherlock is...wait for it...a vampire. I know, I'm so sorry but wait!!
What if his and Irene Adler's deal is that she likes kinks and one of them being bitten. She lets him be himself. He doesn't have to hide it with her because she enjoys it. She's aloof and doesn't want to be tied down (relationship wise because the BBC Irene most certainly does indeed want to be tied down) so he has found getting high or perhaps the solution he takes nulls the drive to need or want blood.
Ok, that's it, I feel better. If anyone ever sees this and gives something a go, please tag me because I'd love to read it 🦇🖤
Straight from The Movie Reliquary, one of the UK’s top sellers of authentic props and costumes from blockbuster movies and TV shows, comes this beautiful mini-display containing a genuine swatch of wallpaper from the set of the hit BBC series Sherlock! 🕵🏻♂️
Very nice to own a piece from one of my favorite series of all time, starring Benedict Cumberbatch as the world’s greatest detective!
