•°*~and They were Roommates- MultiFandom Oneshots ~•°*

{Sherlock} Stars (xReader)

This is a Sherlock (from the BBC show 'Sherlock') oneshot made in 2023
Enjoy!
Song suggestion: When The Day Met The Night - Panic! At the Disco
Triggers: None :)
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Dear Mr.Holmes,

My name is Y/n L/n, I would like to meet you.

I know you are a curious man, but I am afraid this meeting will bore you, for there is no case.

Simply interaction with another human being. As I can tell from your beautiful lament, that you are indeed bored and feel you would much rather leave your flat of 221B Baker Street.

There is a small garden near your flat, you know of the one, I shall wait there till noon today.

If you would like to get to know me, please come.

If not, very well, I hope you enjoy the rest of your afternoon.

Sincerely,

Y/n L/n.

This message couldn’t have intrigued the detective more when he received it from Mrs. Hudson that morning. He stood by the window, simply listening to the sounds the horse hair bow made against the steel strings of different sizes. The melody was the lament this Y/n spoke of, they were correct in their deduction that he was, in fact, bored.

The small piece of paper was not unlike any sketch-book paper, in fact it was sketchbook paper. The handwriting carefully planned out and thought through. But with a messy flare only an artist could conjure, the light smudges to the ink also provided this artist was either in a hurry, or simply thought it was an incredible edition to the hand crafted letter.

The detective placed the Violin on its stand, examining the envelope, his flatmate walking into the space and staring at him, a stern look on his face.

“You do realize it’s  illegal to open someone else's mail?” He states, but the great deductive thinker doesn’t pay any mind to the question, continuing to examine the letter. “It's addressed to me.” He simply states, John reaches for the piece of sketchbook paper and Holmes grabs it, placing it in its envelope and placing it in his pocket. Looking towards the door.

“I have someone I need to meet.” He grabs his coat, placing it over the wine colored shirt he has on, laying the scarf around his neck swiftly, looking back through the opened door at John.

“Where are you going?”

The detective contemplates what he should tell his friend, flipping through ‘a meeting’ and it’s detriments, ‘a client’ and its detriments, and finally landing upon “Following a lead, I'll be quite alright on my own.”

He closes the door behind him, an unreadable smile on his lips as he waltzes down the stairs, approaching the door. The smile, he only got that certain smile when he received a case, something involving some complex murder, or a strange robbery.

His feet led him through the streets, the golden light of the now midday leading him to the small garden the letter had told him about, there he saw a figure, sitting, their clothes finely tailored and fitting them well. They sat and smiled at another figure that brought them a silver tray with an ornate teapot and two cups, they nodded at the server and laughed, sending them off. He decided to wait to see what this figure would do, examining every move they made, the slight tapping of their fingers on the green metal that feigned a look of lace, when they cupped two hands around the glass cup to make sure it wouldn’t crash to the ground, their eyes glancing at the watch around their wrist with a shake of their head each time. They knew he would most likely avoid the small green grove of trees with braces spread out like umbrellas, but they couldn’t help but want him to appear through the small pathway in between the trees. So they sat patiently, their fingers tapping less as the day went on, the many pots of tea they hand downed replaced by another in a few short minutes, and more laughter between the server and them.