BBC Sherlock Imagines

Sherlock: You're Drunk

Request for FictionReading215

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Somewhere, between the flashing lights and bright colors of the telly, you saw your hand. It was in front of your face, pulsing slowly.

"I think my hand has a heartbeat," you hiccuped.

"Every part of you has a pulse that radiates from your heart, so yes, in some way you're correct."

"My head has a heartbeat too."

"That's called a headache, something you experience from being intoxicated." Beyond your hand, Sherlock, your trusty love, eyed you from his chair. So yeah, you may have had a few too many drinks after dinner tonight with John and Mary, and a few more after they left, but it was Saturday, and you didn't have to work tomorrow.

Slurring, you said, "Sherlock, don't get your knickers in a twist. Just relax and live life a little, like me." You finished off your spiel by placing your hands loosely behind your head, leaning back into your chair. Except, there wasn't a chair beneath you, so you fell to the floor in a drunken heap, He stood up from his chair, coming to stand over you, a slight smirk peppered on his sharp features.

"Watching you get piss drunk and fall on your arse is all the enjoyment I need in life."

"You're enjoying this too much Sherl. You should be helping me up, getting me some water, rubbing my back, holding my hair back when I vomit..." A quizzical look replaced his smirk.

"You haven't thrown up though?" At that exact moment, your eyes widened and you leaned to the side, extracting all your insides onto the carpet. Thankfully, it was all liquid. You rolled over, away from you mess, and threw your arms up in there so Sherlock would help you up. But no strong hands came to your rescue, only air that floated through your pulsing fingers. Suddenly, warm arms snatched you up and set you on the couch. You opened your eyes hesitantly, and saw Sherlock heading into the kitchen. He was started putting on gloves, then adjourned his face with a doctor's mask. He grabbed an old towel in one hand, and carpet cleaner in the other, and may his way back out to the living room.

"You should put on one of those skimpy maid outfits while you clean, you'd look preeeeettttty cute in it," you giggled as he got on his knees next to your mess. His cheeks burned a light pink as he choked out,

"That's highly inappropriate (y/n)." Then he began wiping, and spraying, and scrubbing, and then repeated the whole process again. You watched him closely. He still wore his dress pants and buttoned shirt (which, looking at the condition of the buttons, it wasn't going to be buttoned for much longer). His mop of curls flopped around maliciously, tempting you to reach out and bury yourself in them. Giving in, you outstretched your hand and your whole body followed. You rolled off the couch and face planted onto the ground. Well this is nice, you thought, as you settled into the fluffy roughness of it. Not exactly Sherlock's curls, but close enough. You allowed your eyelids to remain closed, and you slowly drifted to sleep... Well almost.

"(Y/n) wake up." You ignored the baritone voice, instead pretending it was your lullaby. "(Y/n). You're not sleeping on the floor tonight," said Sherlock again, this time closer. You shifted your head towards him, your whole body suctioned to the ground in tiredness. Slowly, you extended out an arm, your finger met his lips as he tried to tell you again to get up.

"Shhhhh," you ordered, shoving your finger around his face. Your senses were a little off, so you ended up waving your finger around mostly in a waving motion. He pushed your hand down and cleared his throat. You peeked up at him; his hands were planted firmly on his hips and his eyes were closed, reflecting a deep thought he was caught in the middle of. You let your eyes flutter shut again, only to open them once more as you were picked up from the ground. Sherlock, not knowing how to carry you properly, attempted to swing your legs so you straddled him, and placed you arms around his neck. Pretty much he tried holding you like you were a baby, which in this case, you were one. You weren't making it easy on him - you let all your body weight fall, not trying to hold on or anything. Grumbling he dropped you on the couch.

"(Y/n)", he singsonged in his fake nice voice, "please wake up dear and come to bed." You decided, yet again, to ignore him. "(Y/N)!" You still refused to move or make a sound - you were fine sleeping out here, and honestly,
you just wanted him to leave you alone so you could sleep.

"Sherlock..." You whispered weakly. He leaned down close to you.

"Are you okay?! Are you going to throw up again?! What's wrong?!" You stopped him before he could say anymore.

"Shhhhhhhh," you ordered again, shoving you finger into his lips. "Let me sleep." You turned to face the other side of the couch.

"(Y/n), please come to bed. I want to... cuddle," you felt him cringe at the word, "and hold... you all... night?"

"You've been watching too many love movies lately Sherlock Holmes." He gave a defeated sigh. You felt the couch cushions deflate from weight being added, and then a knee rammed into your thigh and an elbow knocked you in face and a heavy warmth covered you like a blanket. "What in merlin's name are you doing?!" you groaned.

"Going to sleep," he stated simply.

"Not on me!" you yelled, trying to push him off, but he had you pinned down. You faced him now, glaring into his bright blue eyes. Even in the dark light of the room they gleamed. "Get. Off."

"No." He smirked. Oh how you hated that smirk. That stupid, devilishly sexy smirk. So you did the one thing you knew would send him running. You kissed him. You grabbed both sides of his face and planted one right on him. For a second, you had him captivated, until he realized what he was actually doing, and hopped right off of you.

"Why must humans be so affectionate?" he complained, wiping his mouth off with his sleeve.

"Oh calm down Sherlock, you know you liked it," you said, adding in a wink as you pranced past him, heading into the bedroom to get some real sleep. That was the second time that night you made Sherlock Holmes blush.

A/N

I'm alive still if anyone cares.

Its okay my little children, momma is home.

So I was sick. Every night I would take NyQuil and pass out at like 9:30 so I never had time to write. And I had a ton of homework too. Buuuttttt I finally finished this chapter! Been working on it for a couple days here and there.

Hopefully tomorrow and Saturday I can get some serious writing done.

Wattpad is what gets me through this hiatus and school.

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, I thought it was funny.

Still taking requests
(Although I might add I have a lot to write so you may have to wait awhile)

Thank you for 7k+ reads!!!! It still amazes me that you all read these stories.

Thank you x 103948288372828 for the comments, votes, etc.

Just thanks for it all.

Okay time to sleep
Because you can never have enough sleep (and I never get enough sleep)

Goodnight and

As always

enjoy