Imagines and Preferences: Book 1

Preference: Comfort | Sherlock

Summary: The boys of Sherlock trying to comfort you.

QOTP: Do you think Moriarty is still alive?

Word Count: 591

Jim -
Jim comes home from a little "mission" to find you crying on the couch. You look up at him with red, puffy eyes and he's just speechless.

He doesn't know what to do.

He's a psychopath.

He slowly walks over and sits down next to you and tries to figure out what to do. And the only thing he can think of is kissing you. What you usually do when he comes home. He can feel your tears hitting his cheeks.

At first, you let him kiss you, but then you push him off. "N-Not right now. Just... sit with me. Please."

And he does.

He wordlessly sits with you, and he wraps his arm around you when you rest your head on his chest.

John -
When he comes home and finds you crying, he immediately drops everything and runs to your side.

"What's wrong, love? What happened?"

You just shake your head and wrap your arms around him, holding onto him as if you'll fall to pieces if you let go.

He hugs you back just as tight, rocking you back and forth in his lap. You're sitting on the floor next to the couch, the only sound being your sobs.

John almost starts crying himself, his heart broken at the sight of you like this. He doesn't press or pry, he just lets you cry. You'll tell him in your own time.

But that doesn't stop him from worrying every minute that you continue to sob into his chest.

"I-I got your shirt wet," you say quietly.

He immediately - but gently - shushes you. "It's okay. I don't care. It's okay. Don't worry about that."

And you both sit there for the next half hour, you sniffling and John holding you tightly.

Sherlock -
Sherlock walks out of his bedroom to find you on the couch, sobbing. The TV isn't on, your phone is off on the coffee table, and you're wrapped in a blanket.

You look up at him, eyes puffy. His heart shatters, partly because of how broken you look, and partly because he doesn't know what to do.

Mrs. Hudson is out. John is with Mary and specifically told him not to text him unless somebody died or was dying.

For all he knows you could be dying.

He could text Lestrade. Maybe Lestrade can help.

He starts to pull his phone out of his pocket, but you say, "Sherlock," so quietly he almost doesn't hear you. Key word: almost. So, he puts his phone next to yours and sits down with you.

"I-I don't know what to do," he confesses.

You lay your head on his shoulder. "Just... be here with me. Please."

"O-Okay. I can do that."

Hesitantly, he wraps his arm around you. Then, he becomes angry with himself; he's not doing enough. He's your boyfriend, he should be doing more.

So, he gently picks you up and sets you in his lap and holds you. Almost instinctively, he kisses your forehead.

For the next half hour, he lets you cry into his chest until your sobs are reduced to snivels. Then, he asks, "What happened?"

"I... I don't wanna talk about it," you reply. "Not right now."

"I'll... I'll be here when... when you want to."

You kiss him quickly and he smiles a little, then pulls you closer to him.

He wasn't so bad at this after all.