I NEED MORE!! PLEASE! I NEED MORE!

I NEED MORE!! PLEASE! I NEED MORE!

I was wondering if you might write a fic for the RDJ Sherlock Holmes with a gender neutral reader where in A Game of Shadows the reader gets injured and almost dies and Sherlock confronts the reader and ends up confessing his affections? Or really anything with the RDJ Sherlock Holmes? I'm absolutely starved for content. If you don't want to you can absolutely ignore it please don't feel pressured to do anything with this.

I've been on a block recently and decided to write this in order to get rid of it

requests are closed, though

Relationship: Sherlock Holmes x GN Reader

Request: "I was wondering if you might write a fic for the RDJ Sherlock Holmes with a gender neutral reader where in A Game of Shadows the reader gets injured and almost dies and Sherlock confronts the reader and ends up confessing his affections? Or really anything with the RDJ Sherlock Holmes? I'm absolutely starved for content. If you don't want to you can absolutely ignore it please don't feel pressured to do anything with this."

Summary: you get hurt, Sherlock rethinks his priorities

Warnings: mild violence (nothing graphic), bullet wounds

As the sun began to set, you and Sherlock found yourselves deep in the heart of Europe, tracking down the elusive Professor Moriarty. You had always been fascinated by the detective's deductive skills, and had joined him on many of his cases, but this time felt different. Moriarty was a formidable opponent, and you couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to go wrong.

Your fears were soon confirmed when you and Sherlock found yourselves in the midst of a fierce gunfight with Moriarty's men. You tried to keep up with Sherlock's lightning-fast movements, but in the chaos of the battle, you were hit by a stray bullet.

The pain was intense, and you could feel yourself losing consciousness. The last thing you saw before everything went black was Sherlock's concerned face hovering over you.

When you woke up, you were lying in a hospital bed with Sherlock sitting next to you. You tried to sit up, but a wave of pain shot through your body, and you fell back onto the pillows.

"Don't move," Sherlock said softly, placing a hand on your shoulder. "You were lucky to survive."

You looked at him, trying to ignore the pounding in your head. "What happened?"

"You were shot," Sherlock said, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "But you're going to be okay."

You knew he was trying to reassure you, but you could see the worry etched on his face. You realized then that you had been foolish to think that you could keep up with him on this dangerous mission.

"I'm sorry," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. "I shouldn't have come with you."

Sherlock shook his head. "Don't be ridiculous. You're one of the best partners I've ever had. I couldn't have done it without you."

You smiled weakly, feeling a sense of warmth spread through your body at his words. Despite the pain, you felt strangely content lying there next to him.

But as the days went by, you began to notice something different about Sherlock. He was more attentive, more protective, and more affectionate than ever before. You couldn't help but wonder if it was because of your injury.

One day, as he was helping you to sit up, you mustered up the courage to ask him. "Sherlock, why are you being so...nice to me?"

He paused, looking at you with a mix of surprise and hesitation. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, you're usually so aloof and distant. But ever since I got hurt, you've been different. You've been...caring."

Sherlock took a deep breath, his eyes flickering with emotion. "I suppose... I've realized how much you mean to me. I just couldn't bear the thought of losing you."

You looked at him, stunned. "What are you saying?"

He took your hand in his, his fingers warm and steady. "I'm saying that... I care about you. More than I ever thought possible."

You felt a lump form in your throat as he spoke, the weight of his words settling on you. You had always felt a strong connection to Sherlock, but you never thought he could feel the same way.

"I care about you too," you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sherlock leaned in, his lips hovering over yours. "Good," he whispered.

Questioning whether or not I should watch this or if it will break my heart like Peaky Blinders did.

Cillian Murphy | The Edge Of Love (2008)

Love this adorable fanfic so much!! ✨✨

Hi, there. Since your requests are open and you write for the 007 franchise, I was wondering if I might request something. Specifically Skyfall era. Maybe something where the reader is a new employee of MI6 (not exactly a field agent but equally important) and of course James fancies her and uses his charm on her. But she plays hard to get until she can't take it anymore and gives in.

Sorry if it's really specific. Please do your best. I know I'll love it!

Thank you!

Note: requests are currently closed

Aww thank you! I hope you do like the fic :)

Title: Just One Evening

James Bond tag list: @mxacegrey

Everything tag list: @greenrevolutionary, @byebyebreezywrites, @spngingerbread21, @layazul, @lov3vivian, @simonsbluee

You looked to the side and frowned as you heard the door to your workshop open and close. People tended not to venture down there. The only regular person was Q and those shoes definitely didn’t belong to him. Handmade, expensive, freshly polished and most definitely belonging to a 00 agent.

The shoes belonging to the agent came to a pause by the car you were working on. Only your legs were visible and you paused as you waited for the agent to make his or her next move. After a second the agent walked to the front of the car and used his foot to drag out the mechanical creeper you were using. You folded your arms and looked up into the face of James Bond. You raised your eyebrows at him.

“007,” you said coolly, “Q isn’t happy with you.”

“Isn’t he.”

“You don’t sound surprised.”

“When it comes to Q I rarely am.”

You were one of the mechanics working for Q Branch. Despite only recently joining you had quickly become one of Q’s most reliable employees and the one who didn’t mind working on the mostly destroyed cars that the 00 agents brought back. It was a messy job, with all the oil and grease, but someone needed to do it. You blinked in surprise as you realised that Bond was holding out his hand.

“Aren’t you afraid of getting your suit dirty.” You said

“I’ve had worse.”

“I’m sure you have.”

You narrowed your eyes at his nails, trying to see you if you see blood under them. However, much like all 00 agents, he seemed to be meticulous with how he presented himself. He gestured towards you again and your lip twitched as your grasped it. You let out a gasp as he easily pulled you to your feet and you stumbled slightly. Bond wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Easy,” he said, his lips brushing against your cheek, “Can’t have you falling over can hurting yourself.”

“And why not?”

“Q won’t be very happy.”

“There are other mechanics.”

“But none that he keeps such a close eye on.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Bond’s grip on your waist tightened for a second and you swiftly pushed him away. You folded your arm as a surprising awkward silence fell between you. Bond was always so charming and smooth. Someone who had an answer for everything and seemed determined to win you over.

“He seems protective of you.”

“And you sound jealous.”

“Maybe I am.”

“There are plenty of other people who I’m sure would be more than happy to spend the night with you.”

“And there’s no one else I’d rather keep seeing again than you.”

You blinked at the sincerity of his words. Bond put his hand back on your hip and he leant down, brushing his nose against yours.

“All I’m asking is dinner.” he said

“Fine,” you said with a roll of your eyes, “But you’re paying.”

Me watching Peaky Blinders knowing full well what’s going to happen, but still watching it anyway: 

I can help him!!!! 

and I assure you I will love him til my dying breath

This movie... Oh, this movie. It melted my heart, then ripped it out of my chest, then threw it on the ground, stomped on it until it was nothing but dust. And Lucas, you have made it onto my list of fictional husbands, a compliment of the highest order.

I just finished watching Jagten with Mads Mikkelsen (an old movie, I know) and I haven't been so angry and fired on about anything in a long time as I was with this movie. I don't want to write it down in detail so I don't want get some hate for my opinion. But I really wanted to hug Mads and take him away, put him in my bedroom and defend him from those idiots.. 😭 Those last two minutes were exactly how I feel among some people around me.

(I don't mean my mutuals here, you are my spiritual support 🕊️)

Like seriously, it was very strong and disturbing movie for me. 😵😵😵

And Mads is so brilliat actor, I really admire him so much. 💖