Expect The Unexpected {s.h x reader}

Chapter 26

transcript from: https://transcripts.foreverdreaming.org/viewtopic.php?f=51&t=7718

Y/N Watson

As my eyes flutter open from my much needed sleep, I'm greeted by the rich voice of a rambling detective.

"It's simple, really! Mycroft for years now has been merely jealous of my-oh, you're awake." Sherlock's gaze catches mine as I stretch out my arms with a groan.

"Wow, you really did tell me everything about you," I chuckle, easily melted in his warm touch. "We have a lot to do today, Sherlock Holmes. Better get out there." My chest heaves with a deep sigh. My command doesn't bode well with the man snuggled next to me, for he lets out a soft groan of complaint.

Sherlock's strong arms hold me close to his warm chest, making me laugh. He dips his head down to plant a few light kisses on my cheek, trailing down to my jaw and the arch of my neck.

"How 'bout we stay in bed all day instead." He suggests in between peppering kisses onto my skin. I giggle at his affection as his fingers trace my stomach in circles. Although I want to kiss Sherlock until my lips go numb, I know I have some work to do with Maddie Loughty and my parents.

"I'd love to, you know that. But we-" I try to pull away from him, but Sherlock cuts me off.

"I don't believe I was asking you." Sherlock's blue eyes shine a silvery gray as he shoots me a commanding stare. He pulls me closer to him with a smirk.

"Oh, really?" I tease back, raking my fingers through his thick curls. He nods back with narrow eyes. "Well, I believe I wasn't asking either, Mr. Holmes." My eyebrow cocks in a challenging manner, making Sherlock's smirk grow into a smile. His hands grip their way to my hips.

"You are really something else." He grins as he plants a deep kiss on my lips.

"I know."

I send him a teasing wink, and pull myself from the warm bedsheets. Light goosebumps pepper across my skin as I open the door to the living room. In the morning sunlight streaming through thick dust in the air, John types furiously on his laptop. His eyes shine with a determined focus, and his jaw is clenched with frustration.

"Morning, Johnny. What's wrong now?" I sigh out a smile, crossing my arms before my concentrated brother. In a swift movement, John jumps up out of his chair in stress and paces towards the kitchen.

"I've been trying to do more research for the past hour and a half, but all that's coming up is that stupid picture of Moriarty with Dad! Jesus, all I can see is his face now. Every time I close my eyes, all I can see is that bastard Moriarty!" John's broken yells make my stomach drop, his hands clenched by his side.

The fiery anger behind John's eyes is one I've never seen before. Even when he found Sherlock and I in bed, that was more a protective anger. This fury is dangerous, and would ignite into a wildfire if not controlled.

"I know how frustrating it is. I hate him as much as you do, John." I shake my head softly, Sherlock approaching my side from the bedroom.

"How can you, Y/N? You were an infant, I was bloody seven years old when they died!"

"John-" Sherlock holds out a hand, trying to stop him from spitting anymore acrid words.

"No, Sherlock. This has nothing to do with you, this is a family matter." John's tense demeanor cools as he looks in my eyes.

I understand completely where he's coming from. John took on the most trauma out of the two of us, and I get how frustrating it is when I try to interject into those suppressed memories and fix things. But no matter, I'm determined to figure this out.