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𝓓𝓪𝔂 14 - Solving A Case || BBC Sherlock Holmes x fem!reader

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Summary: Sherlock insists that you visit him, but his motives are rather unclear.

Warnings: some undressing

Word count: ~ 800

Authors: Cass & Fenrir

A/N: the prompt for today is: Undressing

"Good morning, Mrs. Hudson!" You shouted before going straight to Sherlock's apartment.

A completely unknown reason prompted him to contact you, asking you to go to his house immediately.

Sherlock walked down the front hall and glared at you, cocking his one eyebrow up, as soon as he heard your sweet tone echoing off the walls. "You're running late, Y/N."

As you tried to remove your scarf, you nodded. "I know, I am so sorry, it wasn't my fault..."

"You say it wasn't your fault?" He inquired.

"Of course it wasn't. They fixed a sidewalk on the way from my flat, so traffic was a little chaotic," you said finally as you removed your coat and scarf.

His frown had been replaced by a smile on his lips. "Don't worry, I'm aware of it, and I calculated that you might be late. Let us not waste any more time. Please follow me."

After throwing your stuff on the couch, you followed him quickly with an eye roll. "We were going to meet later anyway, so what's the big deal?"

Sherlock looked at you as soon as the door to his office closed behind you and said, "Undress."

Not sure if you heard it right, you blinked and looked around awkwardly. "Excuse me? What?”

"You heard me. Undress, Y/N," he repeated, looking at you.

As you took off your shoes, a look of confusion still appeared on your face. "Like, you want me to take off everything?"

Sherlock cocked his eyebrow at you. "Did I tell you to take your shoes off? I told you to undress."

"I wouldn't take off my skinny jeans with shoes on," you rolled your eyes and then smiled.

It hit you then - there was no doubt your dear boyfriend was eagerly awaiting tonight's date. Revealing your bra, you slowly took off your shirt. It was only a matter of time before your pants followed, revealing matching bottoms. "Sherlock, you might have told me earlier that you cannot wait to see me that much."

He walked to you and traced his fingers along the stripe of your bra, humming to himself. He put hands on your shoulders and slowly turned you around to take a look at your bun.

There was something odd about this, but Sherlock was always odd, so you didn't pay much attention, but when you didn't reach any good conclusions, you started to wonder. "Sherlock? What are we doing exactly?”

"I'm undressing you," he told you simply, pushing his hands beneath the straps of your bra, tugging them down your shoulders, cupping your breasts after.

You gasped and bit your lips, smiling at him. "Well, I can see that. You want to take stuff slowly today?"

"Maybe," his response was brief.

Playing with your bottom lip, you nodded, staying quiet, enjoying his touch.

Soon, his hands moved from your breasts down your body, through the stomach, until they reached your thong.

As his hand reached lower, you let out another soft gasp that filled you with goosebumps.

Sherlock's hand played with your thong, and soon he pushed the material down your legs, slowly and constantly, humming at the softest of your skin under his calloused fingers.

When you stepped out of the panties, you realized you were fully naked in front of him. Like every time, it made you blush. "Sherlock, stop playing with me."

He put hands to your shoulders and slowly caressed down them; his touches soft and delicate like a summer rain. "Good, good, very well." Soon, he turned you around and took one more glance over your curvy hips and fully breasts and thighs.

As you stared at the door in front of you, you were confused. Usually, Sherlock took things slow and unexpectedly, but this was getting silly.

Suddenly, he sent you a warm smile. "Ok, I'm done, you can get dressed, if you want, of course."

"What?" You asked quietly, looking at him. "Excuse me? What do you mean you are done?”

"I am solving a mysterious case. The deceased woman was your size and I had to check something. Thank you for helping me get the clue that the killer had to be left-handed."

"Wouldn't it have been easier to go touch the actual body instead of dragging me all the way here?" You asked.

"Why touch some random, cold Noddy when I have you in my reach, my beautiful?" Sherlock walked back to you and kissed your cheek.

"Well, it seems like your hobby," you grumbled, annoyed by the kiss. "But maybe you could take a little break?"

His eyebrow went up slowly and a cocky grin appeared on his lips. As Sherlock started unbuttoning his plain shirt, he nodded. "I like this idea, Y/N."