Sherlock Imagines and Preferences

A Bunch of Fluff

Hello, my lovely readers. As you probably know by now, I loooove angst and enjoy writing it for you guys immensely. But since I love you all so very much, I have decided to take a quick break from the requests to give you a chapter filled with some small stories that contain as much fluff as I could think of. All of the short oneshots in this part will be SherlockxReader, but I might do more of these with other characters in the future!

I hope you all enjoy it ♥

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An Early Midlife Crisis

During a relaxing and calm evening in 221B, something that didn't happen very often, you and Sherlock decided to simply turn on the telly and enjoy some quality time together.

You sat comfortably on the sofa as Sherlock rested his head in your lap, his long legs dangling off the edge of the furniture piece. His dark curly hair formed a circle around his head as he kept his gaze fixed on the telly. Your hand automatically went into his curls. Your soothing motions relaxed him completely and his chest slowly rose and fell.

Whatever show Sherlock was watching didn't catch your attention at all. Your eyes were glued to your husband as you admired his every feature. For once, he was so calm and unbothered by all the troubles and problems in the world. He was just enjoying spending time with the person he loved so much. A small smile tugged on your lips as you gently pulled on his hair, earning a soft groan from the detective. Your entire focus was on his curls now, and that was when you saw it.

A soft gasp escaped your lips and your free hand covered your mouth slightly. You knew Sherlock wasn't going to happy with this, and you were wondering how you were going to tell him.

The detective noticed your movements had stopped and he turned his head to look up at you. ''Darling, what's wrong?'' He asked, seeing your conflicted face.

''Uh, Sherlock,'' You started. ''I need to tell you something. Promise not to freak out.''

He gave you a confused look but nodded. ''I promise.''

You swallowed thickly. ''You have a grey hair.''

His ocean like eyes widened in shock as his mouth fell open. In a split second, he was sitting up, his hands in his hair. ''Where? Where is it?! I CAN'T FEEL IT!'' He spluttered.

''Sherlock, calm down!'' You said loudly, trying to hold back your laughter.

''Don't you dare laugh at me, (Y/N)! This is not funny!''

''It kind of is.'' You snickered.

He jumped up from the couch, his long legs carrying him to the mirror above the fireplace. His fingers rummaged through his hair, messing it up completely until he finally found the culprit. Tears brimmed his eyes as he looked at the grey hair in his reflection. ''No,'' he sniffed, dropping his hands.

''Sherlock, it's just a grey hair! No one will even notice it,'' You assured him.

''You noticed it!'' He nearly shouted, turning back to you.

''Sherlock.'' You laughed.

''Don't 'Sherlock' me! I am dying, woman!'' He fell back in his chair, arms dangling on the sides. ''What am I doing with my life? I haven't achieved anything yet.''

Your laughter grew louder as you approached the defeated man. ''You're twenty-eight, Sherlock. You're not old and you have plenty of time to do the things you want.'' You smiled.