BBC Sherlock Imagines

Sherlock x Reader | Comfort

Description : Comforting Sherlock when John was mad at him.
Warnings : Fluff, Swearing, Nudity
Word Count : 1440
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"No Sherlock! Not again!" John yelled, grabbing his coat and frustratingly putting it on.

I stood watching the two men go at it for almost fifteen minutes. John was mad because of Sherlock's mess, and his severed human parts laying around. Honestly I didn't mind anymore. I've been living with them for almost six months, and experimenting is one of the only things that can make Sherlock happy.

Sherlock and I have only been dating a month or so, and the most affectionate thing we've done yet is kissed, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

"Oh John don't be such a bloody drama queen." Sasses Sherlock.

"A drama queen?! There were toenails in the tea kettle!" John yells.

"It's an experiment!"

Sherlock crosses his arms, waiting for a reply from John.

"I'm leaving." John says.

"John—" I say, but I am cut off by John waving me off, and heading out the door. I turn to Sherlock and he has a saddened look upon his far too pretty face.

"He'll be back." I comfort, walking to him.

"Yea.." he trails, plopping himself on the sofa. I sit next to him, and take his hand in mine while looking up to him to find any sign that says not to. I don't find one so I lean into his shoulder.

"Are you alright?" I say, circling his palm with my thumb.

"Quite." He says softly.

"He's just upset, he loves you Sherlock, he won't be gone forever."

Silence follows and we sit for a long while.

"Y/n, you don't find me acrimonious, do you?"

"No, why would you think that?"

"John says that I tend to 'rub people the wrong way.'"

Instead of answering, I pull him into a small hug, an act of reassurance that says even though he tends to anger some people, I will still be there to show him the love he needed to survive. I feel him wrap his arms around me and push his face into my neck. His breaths are quick and uneven, a sign of panic or sadness. Gently, I push him downwards so we are cuddled together on the couch. The top of his head reaches my chin, and I twirl my fingers through his messy curls. I can feel him tracing patterns onto my hips with his long, delicate fingers. We stay sat like this for a while before I decide to try and cheer him up.

"Sherlock?" I ask.

"Yes?"

"Do you want me to run you a bath?"

"Yes please."

Slowly, I get up, being careful not to disturb his position too much. I make my way to his room and grab his dressing gown from the wardrobe. I decide to grab mine as well, and slip out of my clothing. Sherlock and I have never bathed together, and I'm just making this romance stuff up as I go. My dressing gown is a long, white one that almost touches the floor. I put it on and brush my hair, tousling it to make it look fuller and more attractive.

I get into the bathroom and run the bath. Not super hot, but enough so that we aren't shivering. The bathroom is a bit untidy so I quickly fix it up to make the setting nicer. Finally, the bath is ready, and I'm nervous as all hell. Sherlock has never seen me completely nude before, only in a tank top and some underwear that I wore to bed once when our air conditioner wouldn't work.