Sherlock Holmes // Geralt of Rivia// Clark Kent //Fem reader - One Shots.

A moment of joy.

The quiet London streets were painted in a soft morning mist, the city stirring awake as the sun peeked through the thick clouds. Inside the townhouse on Baker Street, the air was filled with a strange mixture of anxiety, anticipation, and unspoken tenderness.

Sherlock Holmes was known as a man who rarely displayed emotions, his brilliant mind always focused on solving the puzzles of the world. But today, the great detective found himself on edge, pacing back and forth in the small parlor of his home.

In the bedroom upstairs, you lay on the bed, your breaths coming in shallow gasps. The contractions had started hours ago, and now, you knew the time was drawing near. The baby—his baby—was on its way. You winced, your hand gripping the sheets as another wave of pain hit.

"Sherlock..." you whispered, almost instinctively. You had been so strong throughout this entire journey, never wanting to show how scared you truly were. But now, as the time drew nearer, you found yourself wishing for his presence.

The door to your room creaked open, and there he stood, his figure tall and composed, yet there was an undeniable concern in his eyes. He was not dressed in his usual suit but in something far more casual, as though he had thrown on whatever he could find. His usually neat hair was tousled, and for once, he seemed utterly human.

"Y/N," Sherlock's deep voice was gentle as he approached, kneeling beside the bed. His hand found yours, and you clung to him, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I'm here," he reassured you, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand.

"I—I think it's time," you managed to say, your voice trembling. "I can't believe this is happening. I'm scared, Sherlock."

He nodded, his face softening in a way few had ever witnessed. Sherlock Holmes had faced the most dangerous criminals and solved the most intricate mysteries, but nothing could have prepared him for this moment. The woman he loved was in pain, bringing their child into the world, and all his sharp intellect seemed useless now.

"Listen to me," he said, leaning closer. "You're the bravest person I've ever known. You've faced this pregnancy with such strength. You can do this, Y/N. And I will be right here with you."

As another contraction ripped through you, Sherlock's words were your anchor. He had been so distant at first when he learned of your pregnancy, unsure of how to handle the reality of becoming a father. But as time passed, he grew more protective, more present, even if he struggled to express his feelings. Now, in this critical moment, you could see the fear in his eyes, but also the unwavering determination to stay by your side.

"Sherlock, I—I need you to help me," you pleaded, the pain becoming nearly unbearable. He gave you a firm nod and quickly set to work, channeling his nervous energy into practical actions.

"Mrs. Hudson!" he shouted for the landlady, who had agreed to assist. The elderly woman soon appeared with a midwife in tow, bustling around the room to prepare for the birth. But Sherlock refused to leave your side, his hands never once letting go of yours.

The labor was grueling and exhausting, hours stretching into what felt like an eternity. There were moments when you thought you couldn't go on, the pain too much to bear, but every time you looked into Sherlock's eyes, you found the strength to keep pushing.

"I see the head!" the midwife exclaimed. "One more push, my dear, and it will be over!"

Sherlock's grip on your hand tightened, his eyes never leaving your face. "You're almost there, Y/N. Just a little more."

You screamed one last time, and then, as if the world had stilled, a new sound filled the air—the tiny cries of a newborn. The midwife carefully wrapped the baby in a soft blanket before turning to you. "A healthy boy," she announced with a smile, gently placing the infant in your arms.

Tears filled your eyes as you looked down at the tiny bundle. He was perfect, with tufts of dark hair and Sherlock's piercing blue eyes. The sight of him melted away every ounce of pain you had endured, and for a moment, it felt like the world outside ceased to exist.

Sherlock stared at the baby with a look you had never seen before—a mixture of awe, love, and wonder. He reached out, his fingers trembling as he touched the baby's tiny hand. The child grasped his father's finger, and for the first time, Sherlock Holmes was rendered speechless.

"He's beautiful, Sherlock," you whispered, tears streaming down your cheeks.

Sherlock's voice was thick with emotion as he replied, "Yes, he is." He leaned in to kiss your forehead, his lips lingering as if to convey all the emotions he couldn't put into words. "And so are you. You were extraordinary."

As you cradled the baby in your arms, Sherlock gently sat beside you on the bed, his arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders. For a man who had always been so reserved, he now seemed overwhelmed with feelings he had never allowed himself to acknowledge.

"Thank you, Y/N," he whispered softly, his breath warm against your ear. "For this... for him... for everything."

You turned to face him, your heart swelling with love. "We're a family now, Sherlock," you said, your voice filled with a quiet joy. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

He gave you a rare, genuine smile, his eyes softening in a way only you could elicit. In that moment, with your newborn son nestled between you, Sherlock Holmes realized that for all the mysteries he had solved, this was the greatest adventure of his life.