Sherlock preferences

Sherlock x reader - request

This is a requested story from Alex_knox_25 I've tried my best with this and run it past my editor so there shouldn't be any mistakes 😊😊 sorry if its not long enough, or if it's bad...I hope you enjoy it anyway 😂
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- 15 years ago flashback -

The disturbing, melancholy drone of the school bell shook you to the core. It was 9:00 Monday morning and once again, you had to take the tiring slog of a journey to biology first period. You hated biology with a passion... The only thing that made it worthwhile was where you sat. Next to the window. You were free to gaze out into the yard and imagine how much more enriched your life would be if you were allowed to learn out there instead of sitting inside the claustrophobic box which was quite wrongly described as a 'classroom'. You were only sat next to one person in biology class, as the rest of the students hated you. He was the smartest boy in the school -even though you were both still only in year 11 and had two year groups to go still- and was the only boy who would accept you as a friend. William Holmes was his name. William Sherlock Scott Holmes, he insisted on people calling him Sherlock.

He was amazing... For hours on end you would fantasise about gazing into his gorgeous blue-green eyes and running your fingers through his hazel tinted, black locks which elegantly cascaded over his pale forehead. This, of course, was only daydreaming material. You knew that he was only ever going to be a friend to you... He wasn't like the other kids... He didn't do 'emotions' or 'dating' so you let your feelings fade slowly back into yourself and gradually, piece by piece, your soul payed the price... Day by day, you had to fight back your swelling emotions and face the fact that Sherlock could never feel the way about you that you felt about him. Love was not a possibility... Sadly...

"Hi (y/n)" Sherlock said happily as he passed you in the corridor every day.
"Hey Sherlock" was your go-to response but occasionally you would try to venture towards -and fail at- conversations.
You only really conversed properly after school. You would both go and climb trees in the woods and hold mini experiments like calculating how much weight Mycroft had lost or gained in the last month. You were both so happy.... Well happy ish....

Life at home for you was hard, your parents were pushy and demanded the best of the best grades every time you took a test at school.
"Why can't you be more like that nice boy Sherlock?" Your parents would complain. "He is very clever! You'd think with the amount of time you spend together you would have picked up something? Anything!"

One day, the stress became too much... You packed a bag with clothes and essentials you would need (money, passport etc...) and ran to Sherlock's house as fast as possible. You thumped on the door with a tone of fear and imminent urgency until Sherlock finally opened it and looked at your flustered and cold frame.
"What on earth are you doing?!" Sherlock spluttered, with obvious concern.
You couldn't bring yourself to speak as you were straining to keep back the waterfall of tears that you knew were going to emerge if you tried to hazard an explanation. You just leaned forward, kissed him on the cheek and whispered "goodbye Sherlock..." 

- present day -

You awoke, quite suddenly, with a violent jerk as your alarm clock blared into life from its semi permanent state of dormancy. Twelve cold, weak paces forward from the end of your bed lead you to the run down but functional en suite bathroom which had seemed to have been bolted on as a last thought when the flat was being constructed. The rusty mirror slime back your tired reflection which perked up a little after a quick splash of icy water from the tap in front of you.

Somehow, you ended up dressed and sat on the end of your bed with hair and makeup hiding your emotions. You stood up and looked your 30 year old frame over in the mirror before gulping  in a sharp breath and taking to the bustling London streets. Throughout your life, you had moved from place to place, barely staying a few months in one location before either leaving or being evicted for late payments. Anyway... You now found yourself in London and walking aimlessly down the impossible maze of footpaths trying to find your way to nowhere.

*BANG!* your vision went a white-ish haze as something smashed into you, full force and left you flying towards that harsh Tarmac floor. Two warm hands were immediately brought down onto your feeble shoulders and your body was levered up to an angle at which the world seemed less... Well... Upside down.
"Oh my god!" A dark yet smooth voice emanated from the thick fog of confusion clouding your thoughts. You looked up drunkenly as your sight began to clear again to a satisfactory measure when you heard the voice again ... "(Y/n)?" What? No? It couldn't be, could it? "(Y/n)? It's me. Sherlock!"
Grabbing your hands, the man pulled you back up to your feet and dusted off your modest clothes as you stood there dumbstruck.
"S..Sherlock?" You muttered quietly to yourself. He had changed so much! His once blue-green eyes were now a mystifying oceanic turquoise and his locks were as dark and smooth as ever. It's him! (Only more handsome...)

"(Y/n) , please, forgive me for running into you! Come back to the flat and I'll get you an ice pack to stent the bruising" he then proceeded to lead you like a willing sheep back to his apartment. 221b? 

As you entered the flat, you could see that it was much more generously lavish than yours. There was a great deal more furniture and the whole room had a warm godly glow about it that radiated happiness to all who entered. You looked over at Sherlock she was gazing inquisitively over at you before he snapped his sight away with embarrassment. 'Was he looking at me funny?' You thought to yourself. 'Nah... Probably nothing..."

- Sherlock's PoV in the flat -

Of all the people to run into? How?    (Y/n) (y/l/n)? After all these years? My god... She is so beautiful. 15 years she's been running, I've not spent one day of that when I haven't been thinking of her. There is something about her. That smile... The hair, the composure. Oh come on Sherlock! Pull yourself together! You've only just met again there is no way she will like you! Oh god, she's seen me staring!

- back to your PoV -

The silence was deafening. Neither of you could move.
"Umm well.. " Sherlock coughed, shattering the quietness in thin air.
"How... Haw... How have you been?"
Sherlock asked, approaching you slowly. You sighed and replied honestly
"You know... This and that... No job, no friends, no lovers. It was hard leaving. There was so much I'd miss. But most of all I missed you Sherlock, I missed your smile, your laugh, your ways of winding people up! I missed everything about you! But way killed me was to know that you could never feel the same way bac..." You were cut off mid sentence by a peck on the cheek. You opened your eyes to see Sherlock staring passionately back into yours.
"Sherlock... I..." You spluttered nervously.
"Not good?" He queried
"Oh come here you idiot!" You half whispered as you pulled on his coat collars and brought your lips into contact. Finally. It had taken 15 years, but you finally realised that love really was a possibility for you two. Even Sherlock knew... It was meant to be.
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Sorry this is so bad! 😂 it's so cringe! But I tried by best. It there are any spelling errors than I shall fire my editor 😂😂 thanks for reading guys. Love you all xxx ❤️