That’s understandable. I appreciate you taking the time to reply.
Of course, lovely! It's definitely something I'm considering doing a drabble for. Alpine would give you all the snuggles if you didn't feel like your normal self. You and Bucky would both appreciate it.
Hi love I'd like to request. Benedict with 62 please xx
62. “If you can’t sleep… we could have sex?”
The lights were off except for the faint glow of the TV.
Benedict was watching something in the lowest volume possible beside you, sitting as still as he could in order not to wake you.
It probably would have worked if you were actually sleeping.
You knew you had to, mainly because you were going to have an important meeting the next morning and you had to get some rest. However, your body wasn’t collaborating in the least. You felt restless, and no matter how hard you pressed your eyes shut, the sleepiness would never come.
With an annoyed huff, you rolled from your side to your back and tried thinking of something nice to help you drift off. It didn’t help in the slightest.
“What’s wrong, love?” you heard Benedict inquire beside you, opening one eye to find him staring at you worriedly.
You sighed, now opening both eyes to fully look at him. The blue hue of the TV was outlining his profile, making him look as handsome as ever with his bedroom hair and soft features. “Can’t sleep,” you murmured, still admiring him distractedly.
“Do you want me to turn it off?” Benedict pointed to the TV and you shook your head slightly.
“No, it’s not that… I’m just not sleepy,” you explained and rolled over to his side of the bed, pressing your head against his chest and toying with his shirt between your fingers.
He looked at you for a long moment before smirking. “Well,” he began, taking your hand in his and bringing it to his mouth, pressing his lips to each one of your fingers gently. “If you can’t sleep… we could have sex?” he suggested lowly and you raised an eyebrow.
You sat up slowly beside him in order to position both your arms on either side of his head, lifting one of your legs so you could straddle him and leaning back in so your face was inches from his, your lips barely touching.
“Now that-” you smirked back at him, "-is an offer I can’t refuse…“
Sorry its taken me a while but I hope you like it! x
"Hey Sherlock" you sighed strolling into 221B as if you owned the place. He didn't even glance up from the couch where he was lying, hands pressed together under his chin as he thought. "Oh same" you said sarcastically with a roll of your eyes and moved through to the kitchen. Not seeing John you began to mumble under your breath "my day was awesome thanks for asking, Sherlock. How was yours? Oh that's nice. Anyway what do we want for dinner? I know how about we do something together for once. Oh wow that would be love-"
"Bad day huh?" John interrupted causing you to jump and you spun around to face him. "I guess... it's been a bit all over the place" you sighed leaning against the counter top. "What's up with him?" You asked jerking your head in the direction of Sherlock who still had y moved. "Mycroft called, apparently he's coming over" John explained. You pulled a knowing face with wide eyes and a grimace. "Oh, of course...how come?"
"Well..." John began hesitant in what he was going to say. You raised an eyebrow and he gulped a little. "He might have found out you spend a lot of time here... and apparently there is nothing about you on the 'systems' so...." John trailed off with a grimace as you glared him down. "Someone?" You asked. He didn't need to say anything and you knew it was him.
You sighed and relaxed a little with a roll of your eyes. "It's fine. Don't worry about it, I'll mess up his computer tomorrow" you grinned. You pushed off the counter top and wandered back into see Sherlock hoping to get a response out him this time. "Hey" you said loudly. Nothing. You groaned and sat down on of him, a breath of air escaped him like a deflating balloon as you did so and he peeked open one eye to glare at you before closing it again. "I know your listening to me" you whined poking him repeatedly until he gave in and looked at you. "What do you want? I'm busy" he asked. You flopped down so that you where lying next to him, nearly pushing him off the couch. "Y/N knock it off. I'm thinking"
"I can see that. But I'm bored so I'm going to annoy you"
"Go and annoy someone else" he retorted. "Mycroft is here, go annoy him" he said.
At that point the sound of the front door shutting and heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. You propped yourself up on your elbows to star down incredulously at Sherlock "How do you-?" You said. It was cut off when the older Holmes brother appeared in the door way. "Sherlock will you stop messing around?" He huffed causing you to bust into a fit of giggle before pushing him off the couch and onto the floor with a thump. "You must be Y/N"
"Nice to meet ya" you grinned holding out your hand for him to shake and he just looked at in distain as Sherlock got to his feet and pulled out his violin from under his chair. "Sherlock what is she doing here?" Mycroft asked
"Annoying me" Sherlock responded
"That's a good question actually, what are you doing here?" John asked stepping out from the kitchen a cup of tea in his hands.
P
"Well if the great Sherlock Holmes can't get it then I guess I'll just leave" you shrugged, your bottom lip quivering in a faked sadness as you stood to leave. Before you could get out however, Mycroft put out his umbrella blocking the door. "Wait there" while shorter than him you looked up at him with a glare that could bring down nations. "You and I both know that I can get you fired in seconds. One phone call. And your done Mycroft Holmes" you threatened. Sherlock raised a humours eyebrow at his brother but didn't say anything while John looked just as confused as ever.
You pushed Mycroft's umbrella away when he still refused to move shooting Sherlock a second sad look before leaving the flat without another word. There was a pause inside before Sherlock groaned and snatched his coat from the back of the door. "Sherlock you can't follow her" Mycroft said, shock filling his voice. He had always assumed that he was as powerful as it came and it surprised him to have one of Sherlock's friends talk to him like that. "Yes I can. And apparently you can't stop me" he said and he too pushed past his brother.
You where leaning against the brick wall outside the cafe next door to the flat, one foot pressed against the wall tapping away a steady beat as you typed quickly on your phone easily finding what you needed. "You waited?" Sherlock questioned and your head snapped up with a grin before stepping away from the wall and shoving your phone in the back pocket of your jeans. "Of course. Did you remember then?" You asked bouncing on you toes. Sherlock chuckled at your excitement "how could I forget the day I met you?" He said before taking you hand and the two of you walked down the street hand in hand ready for the anniversary of your relationship.
Bruce Wayne / batman reader. The joker kidnapped the reader who is Bruce Wayne's wife. The chains her to the bottom of an empty aquarium sized tank, and he fills it up with water . Will Bruce get get there in time to save her.
Hi! I did it for you HERE, but I don’t know if it’s any good! Let me know what you think :D
A/N: Well this was loads of fun to write. Especially the end because damn, the cumberbutt gets me every time. A huge thanks to @duskybatfishgirl for providing me with this post that inspired me profoundly, lol. Also, this week I might be slower on updates because of a few upcoming exams, but I promise I'll make an effort. Just be patient, you guys, because a lot of good stuff is coming up ;D
Requested by @thestrawberryblondehobbitbatch: Flashing Lights. I loved this fic. I was wondering if you could to do another one like it. But Benedict is going on the graham Norton show to promote Sherlock. And the reader is the surprise guest.
Word count: 2509
Warnings: none
[part 1] [part 2]
Benedict smiled as the cheers and clapping from the crowd ceased.
His hands were a little bit sweaty, but other than that he felt calmer than he ever had during talk shows like this.
In front of him, Graham Norton beamed with a kind of mischievousness that was lost on Benedict. He'd been to the Graham Norton Show more times than he could count, but he still couldn't for the life of him figure out what its host was thinking most of the time. God only knew what that bearded little man was up to.
"So," Graham began, and Benedict shifted to a more comfortable position on his seat. "This is a good couch we have here tonight, isn't it?" he said, and Benedict looked to his side and at his longtime friend and costar.
Martin Freeman was sitting beside him with his legs crossed and his hands intertwined on his lap, and he too seemed laid back and quite relaxed.
"It definitely is," Martin answered, patting Benedict on the shoulder as they both smiled. The two were already used to all the fuss and commotion that came with being famous, and it helped that they were in it together for this one interview. They were more than used to each other, so it made it all a little more bearable.
"Well then, gentlemen, let's start talking about Sherlock," Graham made a show of waving the little card in his hand. "What is it like- because I reckon your characters are quite... eccentric-" he added with a smile, "-but what is it like to play the iconic duo; Sherlock Holmes and John Watson?"
Benedict and Martin both looked at each other knowingly, though Benedict was the first to speak. "Well... at first it was a little bit challenging," he admitted after taking a deep breath. "I mean, Sherlock, he's... a high functioning sociopath, as he likes to call himself," he laughed, "he's ingenious and completely out of the ordinary, so you can imagine how tricky it is to kind of get his personality right." Graham and Martin both nodded.
"Can we please talk about how talented this man is, though?" Martin chimed in and pointed at Benedict, who scoffed softly. He'd never gotten used to being praised, and the audience awed at the embarrassment on his face as he shook his head. "I mean, come on! It takes a great actor to play that kind of character, and an even greater one to do it well," Martin said and the audience clapped again when Benedict lifted a hand to cover his heart and then proceeded to hug his costar.
"No, but he's right," Graham agreed, stirring on his seat. "Let's not diminish you though, Martin, because John is a pretty complex character as well, I presume," he said and it was Benedict's turn to nod excitedly while Martin just laughed.
"Oh, he's actually pretty challenging too," Benedict said honestly. "Especially during third season. He actually cries a lot," he joked and Martin couldn't disagree, laughing along with the audience.
"And speaking of season three, I believe you actually have a very... well known guest star making an appearance in the show again, if you know what I mean," Graham waggled his eyebrows and winked, the suggestive tone of his voice making Benedict hide behind one of his hands while Martin chuckled.
"Ah, yes," Martin smiled, "(Y/N)'s presence on the set was definitely a game changer," he said with a hint of an innuendo to his tone, and Benedict felt the urge to sink further into his seat. Really, he'd known the subject of the both of you was bound to surface, and he had no problem discussing it in television. It was just that whenever your name came up, he suddenly became a stuttering mess. It was like a mandatory reaction to it, and he also couldn't keep the familiar funny feeling on his stomach from taking over him at the mere mention of you. "He doesn't even acknowledge my existence anymore... it's like I'm not even there!" Martin exclaimed dramatically, pretending to be upset while Benedict protested with a shake of his head and mouthed an 'Oh, come on' to the audience.
"Yes, my condolences, Martin," Graham joined on the drama, and then both he and Martin laughed at the guilty look on Benedict's face.
"Jokes aside now, though, (Y/N)'s just such a lovely person," Martin said more seriously now, and Benedict remained very quiet, because he knew if he started to talk about just how amazing you were, they'd be stuck on that couch for a few hours. "Honestly, when she first made an appearance in the show like, two years ago, the entire Sherlock crew had been praying for this guy over here to ask her out," Martin revealed with a nudge to Benedict's shoulder, and the man in question merely rolled his eyes.
Long after the two of you had met, you'd gotten a minor role in Sherlock for season two, and though your characters didn't have much interaction, you'd become inseparable on set. The friendship you'd had before had only strengthened, and you'd started hanging out together outside work schedules as well. Benedict was already single at that time, and it hadn't taken long for the both of you to start dating officially.
"And by the way, congratulations on getting engaged!" Graham exclaimed excitedly, and Benedict's smile only grew. His heart squeezed happily in his chest as he looked down at the engagement ring wrapped around his finger.
"Thank you," he replied, unable to keep from touching the silver band on his right hand and grinning proudly to the cheering audience.
"It was quite the announcement too. I'm sure no one payed attention to the Oscars after that speech," Graham said playfully, and both Benedict and Martin chuckled.
"It was Benedict's payback for not being nominated this year," Martin joked and everyone laughed. The room had acquired a cheery environment, and Benedict was feeling twice as confident as he had been when he first walked up the steps to the stage. You had that effect on him.
"Well, I have some great things planned for you this evening, gentlemen," Graham smiled wickedly and then looked to the audience, "but first, let me call to the stage our third guest of the night. Here with us is Oscar winner and star of the new Kingsman movie, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), soon to be Mrs. Benedict Cumberbatch!"
At that, Benedict's eyes widened.
He barely registered the clapping and screaming all around him, and instead turned his head to look at the entrance of the stage. He was beginning to doubt Graham's words, but then he saw a flash of deep red high-heels and smelled the unmistakable scent of flowers from your perfume and knew that he was not being tricked.
You appeared from behind the red curtains, a huge smile playing on your lips as you stopped to hug Graham, and then Martin, and then finally, Benedict.
He was still sitting on the couch unlike the two other males on the stage, his expression one of pure shock and confusion. It took him about a few seconds to finally realize that what was happening was actually real, and then Benedict was on his feet in one single fast motion that left him slightly dizzy. He wrapped his arms around you before you even had the chance to do anything, embracing you firmly like you could slip away from his grasp and disappear into thin air.
"I can't believe this," he said with a breathless chuckle. One of his hands moved to cradle the back of your neck as he distanced himself just enough to be able to look at your face, and you smiled warmly at him when he leaned in again to press an affectionate kiss to your forehead, earning a series of Aaw's from the crowd.
"It's payback, darling," you said with a cheeky smile, and the audience laughed before the both of you sat on the couch and you were squeezed in between Martin and Benedict.
"I feel like my job is done here now," Graham joked, "I'm sure there has been no matchmaker better than me," he smiled proudly, and Benedict managed to laugh despite his stupor.
He still couldn't believe you were there beside him; still couldn't do anything but admire you in silence. He was sure his face was showing everything he was feeling at that moment, but he simply couldn't make himself care. You looked as beautiful as ever, and he breathed in the smell of you; the one impregnated on his pillows and the one he craved so much during the nights he had to spend alone because you were away.
"So now that you're here, (Y/N), I propose we talk a little bit about you and Benedict," Graham said and the audience clapped excitedly.
"Okay, but aren't you done embarrassing me on this show, Graham?" you asked with an exasperated expression. "I mean, it's only my second time here, you can't possibly think that after this there'll be a third one?" you joked and the three men beside you chuckled, and you felt Benedict's hand sneak around your shoulders to rest on the sofa's back.
Graham laughed and pressed a hand to his chest. "Oh, as long as I'm being paid I don't mind," he countered playfully. "But anyway, I'm sure you're aware that Benedict has become somewhat of a sex symbol," he waggled his eyebrows, and the whole room was filled with whistling as you nodded. "But tell me, are you familiar with the nickname for your fiancée's fans?" His eyes glinted and you smiled knowingly.
"I'm afraid so," you said with the lift of an eyebrow, not entirely sure what you should expect, but grinning nonetheless. You felt Benedict's eyes on you but didn't look back at him.
"Well, I'm glad, because that's exactly what we're going to talk about," Graham smiled. "Sorry, do we have any Cumberbitches in the audience?" He barely finished his question and the entire room was filled with screaming. You heard Benedict laugh beside you, and couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips. You couldn't really blame the fans. He was an attractive man, after all. "Believe me, you'll thank me later. These people can be quite inspiring, really," Graham added looking at you, and you chuckled lightly.
"Of course. Honestly, I'm a bit of a Cumberbitch myself, so..." you shrugged and the audience cheered again, and you searched for Benedict's hand to hold it closer to you. Your eyes finally connected with his, and you could tell that he was pleased by your comment.
"Well, so you must be aware that there are many other things that can be cumbered and batched," Graham stated seriously, but a second later his lips were stretching into a smirk, and the crowd laughed as both you and Benedict blushed at the innuendo.
"Do tell us more about that," Martin chimed in with a mischievous look on his face.
Graham only chuckled before answering. "Well, for example, did you know that apparently, Benedict has slim, very strong, uh... cumberhands?" He hadn't even finished his sentence when you started already laughing. God, people were creative.
"Oh, lord," you heard Benedict murmur beside you, and your smile only grew on your face as he shook his head and looked down in embarrassment.
"Ah, yes. The cumberhands. I'm afraid I'm very familiar with them," you said knowing exactly how dirty your sentence sounded, and Graham and Martin made a show of widening their eyes suggestively while Benedict hid his face at the curve of your neck and the audience whistled and laughed.
"Well that was incredibly meaningful..." Graham murmured with a little smile. "But there's more. He's also got- and this fan was thoroughly specific-" Graham added, looking up momentarily from the card he was reading, "-'Just the slightest cumbermusk in the Boston sunshine'," he said making quotes with his fingers, and you just couldn't help the full blown laugh that escaped your lips.
"Oh my god, this is gold," you laughed wholeheartedly, watching as Benedict became a darker shade of red as he too chuckled.
"I love that she actually managed to smell him," Martin said with a comical raise of his brows, making everyone laugh even harder.
"Yes, that's a bit creepy," Graham commented, all eyes falling on Benedict's red face. "I could go on, but I figured I should ask (Y/N) here what is her favorite, erm... cumberquality," he said and you laughed at his choice of words, looking at Benedict beside you who was eyeing you back expectantly.
"Okay, let me see..." you searched his face slowly. Your heart was beating erratically in your ribs not only due to the fact that you were sitting in front of more than 300 people, but also because of the intensity with which Benedict was staring at you. His hands were gently caressing yours on your lap, and you gripped his fingers lightly before answering the question. "Well I was thinking of saying his beautiful cumberheart," you heard the collective 'Aaw' from the other occupants of the room and immediately pursed your lips, covering your heart with the hand that was intertwined with his. "But I figured that would be a bit too cheesy and cliché, so I'll stick to the cumberbutt," you finished, and everyone laughed loudly.
"Great choice," Graham said and Martin nodded, and the show went on as expected.
You talked about your character in Kingsman and discussed future projects and movies, and by the time the show ended, you were feeling light and happy. You left the stage with your hands still gripping Benedict's, and the both of you bid your goodbyes to Martin before exiting the building and being escorted to your car.
Sometime during the drive home you felt Benedict wrap his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him in the backseat.
You snuggled closer to his warmth unconsciously, and you two stayed silent for a few moments before he decided to speak. "I thought you'd get jealous," he murmured, the deepness of his voice making his chest vibrate against your hand and cheek.
"What?" you asked confusedly, and he smiled.
"Because of the, um... cumberbitches..." he said awkwardly, and you laughed before lifting your head slightly to look at him.
"I was a little bit," you admitted honestly, adverting your eyes with a slight tilt of your head. Your hand that was on his chest started drawing patterns on the collar of his suit as you spoke. "But then I remembered that, oh, yeah," you rolled your eyes and your smile widened as you closed almost the entire distance between your faces so that your lips were barely touching his. Your next words were spoken in a purr that had his heart doing that little leap inside his chest as he gripped your waist affectionately, "you're mine."
A/N: Err... Well, I'm still alive! It's been a while, but I'm finally free from any responsibilities for now, so here's this night's first request! I'll be posting lots of stuff tonight, so for my fellow night owls out there; enjoy the ride ;D
Also, sorry for the shitty name, i have no imagination whatsoever
Requested by @thestrawberryblondehobbitbatch: Benedict x reader. Benedict comes home early from filming. To surprise his girlfriend. Only to find police and the press outside their home because they were broken into while his girlfriend and their new puppy were inside when it happened
Word count: 1774
Warnings: none
The day had seemed like a normal one for Benedict when he woke up in the morning.
It had been bright and busy like any other day of the week; with London's usual partially cloudy sky and streets that bursted with life. He'd gone to work and spent the day doing everything he usually did; repeated his same old routine and longed for a day in which he wouldn't have to do it all over again.
He would later learn to be careful what he wished for.
"Benedict," his manager had said through the phone with a light tone to his voice. Benedict had just left a script reading session for his latest project, and had been collecting his things when his phone rang. "Johnny had to call off the eight o'clock meeting- something came up at the studio, apparently," he'd explained quickly, "you have the night off."
Benedict had smiled. It was probably his first night off in months, and he had no idea when would be his next. He'd packed his things and left the building feeling like a winner.
He figured you'd be in for a lovely surprise. Maybe you could even open that old bottle of wine your parents had given the both of you for Christmas...
It wasn't until he was in his car - his hands gripping the steering wheel while he was stuck in traffic - that things started going south.
Benedict turned on the Bluetooth on his phone and waited for it to connect to the stereo. "Siri, call my wife," he said as soon as he heard the familiar beep that indicated there was a connection.
The phone rang five, six, seven times before it hit voicemail. "Hello, this is (Y/N) Cumberbatch. I'm not available at the moment, but please leave a message after the beep," your voice boomed through the speakers, and Benedict didn't wait before he pushed the call button on the steering wheel again. Still no response.
In front of him, the line of cars started moving, and he tried to tell himself everything was okay.
It was useless to keep worrying simply because you hadn't picked up the phone. Half of him reasoned that you were probably on the shower or listening to music in your studio. The other more anxious half of him insisted that there was something wrong, though.
Benedict couldn't keep the cold shiver than ran through him and settled in the pit of his stomach as he pushed his feet into the gas pedal.
He thought that perhaps if he pretended to be calm the feeling would overcome the worry that had been growing inside him, but if anything, it seemed to intensify it. He approached his driveway with a dreadful feeling on his stomach, one that was confirmed when he saw the blink of police lights.
Benedict's heart nearly dropped on his chest.
There was cold sweat dripping down the nape of his neck and his hands were trembling when he stopped the car a few feet away from his house, the police cars occupying the whole width of the street.
Benedict exited the car and didn't even bother to close the driver's door behind him as he stumbled toward the scene unraveling in front of him. His hands pushed past the curious bodies of his neighbours and his eyes roamed the faces around him for a glimpse at you.
He didn't have any more time to look around as a policeman stopped him in his tracks. "I'm sorry, sir, but I can't let you go through," he said calmly, and Benedict removed the hand that was holding him back forcefully.
"I-" he tried, but his voice came out like a rough grunt. "That's my house," he finally managed in a breathless whisper, and walked past the officer before he could do anything to stop him. Benedict stumbled through the gravel, unable to think straight or keep his hands from shaking and his shirt from becoming drenched in sweat.
He couldn't find you among the crowd of police officers and passers by, and he was starting to feel the overwhelming panic that came with it.
Benedict honestly didn't know what he would do without you.
Then he felt something stir between his legs and looked down to see Kit, your loyal basset hound, running in circles around him. Benedict remembered the day you'd given him that name. He had suggested something a little more historical, like Henry or Charles after England's greatest kings, but in the end the both of you'd stuck with the one you'd chosen.
Kit waggled his tale desperately, as if both excited to see his owner and worried at the whole situation. He jumped and barked and circled Benedict again, and he squatted next to the dog to pat him affectionately. "It's okay, boy, it's alright," he said in a calm tone that didn't reflect the way he was feeling inside. Benedict was perhaps even more desperate than his dog, but he didn't let it show as he caressed its fluffy fur. Kit, however, didn't calm down in the slightest, jumping around and refusing to stay still in the same place, and Benedict watched as it turned around and ran towards an ambulance parked in the front of the house.
He followed the dog with his eyes and felt his heart squeeze so painfully inside his chest that he thought he might be dying.
You were there, sitting on the steps that lead inside the ambulance - holding a blanket around your shoulders and with a bloody cut etched across your temple.
Benedict ran faster than he ever had in his entire life. His feet carried him and when he finally reached where you were, you were already standing up and coming to his encounter as well.
The both of you met halfway in a hug so desperate that it took the air out of both your lungs.
Benedict clung to your clothes and your hair and your back as he squeezed you against him in a desperate attempt to be closer to you. His heart was hammering almost painfully inside his ribs, and he squeezed you one last time before pulling back to look at you.
The cut on your forehead was still dripping with the slightest bit of blood, but most of it was already dry, and he suspected that it had already been cleaned.
"God, what happened, love?" he asked, unable to keep his voice from faltering at the end. His hands went to cup your face gently, and he ran his fingers through the edges of your bruises and drew a shaky breath. "Are you hurt anywhere else? You shouldn't be standing up. Come on, let me take you-"
"I'm fine, Ben. It's okay," you assured him, though your voice was rough and your throat dry. "I don't- there was a break in..." you answered, holding the blanket even closer to you as a reflex. "There were these two guys, and they locked me in the cupboard, and... and they had guns, and-"
"Shh," Benedict placed his hand on the good side of your face, pulling you closer into another embrace. His other hand ran through your back comfortably, and he felt your shoulders shake as you cried silently. "You don't have to tell me now. I'm going to call your sister to let her know we're coming over," he said as an afterthought, and you just nodded into his shirt, taking deep breaths to try and calm down.
You parted ways so Benedict could make the call, and you went back to the ambulance with Kit while he approached the police officers a few feet away.
"Could anyone explain to me what happened?" he asked, his voice demanding and deep. He was angry at anyone and everyone that allowed you to get hurt, which also meant himself.
"The burglars got in through the open balcony," one of the officers began. "Mrs. Cumberbatch was in the kitchen when they came. They took her by surprise," he said, and Benedict felt his teeth clench. "According to her, they took her to the cupboard and one of them stayed there with her while the other went to search the house," the man explained and Benedict had to keep from lashing out at anyone else. He balled his hands into fists and looked somewhere in the distance, breathing in and out in sharp heaves. "We caught one of the burglars, but the other one managed to escape before we arrived-"
Benedict didn't wait for him to finish, just nodded once and turned on his back. He considered paying the burglar a visit in one of the police cars he was being kept at, but decided against it. The press was starting to gather around the scene, and things were bound to get ugly if he did so. He went back to you instead.
You'd stopped crying already, and he sat beside you on the metal steps of the ambulance and put a comforting hand on your back. He didn't even care if anything was taken from the house. What mattered was that you were there and you were safe.
"I'm sorry, love," he murmured after a while, making you stop caressing Kit's head to look up at him. "I should have been home with you," Benedict lowered his head in defeat and you scoffed, lifting his head with a hand on his chin to meet his eyes.
"Stop that, Ben," you said with a tone of finality to your voice. "You had nothing to do with this. If it's anyone's fault, it's mine for letting the balcony open in the first place." You left no room for discussion, so Benedict just nodded. You could see the sadness in his eyes though, so you pulled him closer by the arm and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips, letting your mouth linger close to his afterwards and brushing your nose against his.
His hand moved from your back to your arm, and he rubbed it against it in an attempt to keep you warm. "I love you," he said with his cheek pressed to the top of your head, and you smiled slightly as you scooted as close to him as possible.
You resumed the caress on Kit's back, placing your other hand on Benedict's bent knee and rubbing your thumb over his jeans in an attempt to make him feel calmer. You felt him sigh beside you, and he pressed a kiss to the top of your head before the both of you allowed yourselves to finally relax.
