ADLOCK FANFIC SKIN

The handsome, charismatic weaver of tales who, just three weeks before his untimely death, had been dubbed “a literary genius” by the New York Times, and “this generation’s Ian Fleming” by the Guardian. Everyone had come to pay their final respects to the beloved novelist, Sherrinford Holmes. The church was so packed, one almost couldn’t see the casket. Sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows, painting the casket and the veritable mountain of flowers beside it with a myriad of colors. The candles and incense gave off a smokey, slightly heady aroma that filled the entire church. The wind was crisp and smelled of freshly-mown grass and overturned dirt from the cemetery outside.

The funeral was on a rare cloudless Sunday morning. Don’t spoil it.”Īdlock AU, in which Sherrinford is the middle Holmes brother.ĭISCLAIMER: Irene may seem ooc in this, or at least closer to ACD canon in personality than BBC canon. How touching.” he whispered teasingly as he held her.

She took his lead with such grace, twirling and dipping as they sashayed into the music of their own making. Slowly, he swayed her to the humming of his lips, the beating of his heart the metronome to which they moved. He pulled her closer, positioning into a waltz, and it was fascinating how elegant she looked even without her facade as “The Woman”. Upon hearing her response, he couldn’t help but laugh, standing up to meet her. Irene rolled her eyes, keeping a straight-face. “Are… are you asking me to dance?” Sherlock asked, amused. She then raised her eyebrows at him, looking highly expectant. To his surprise, Irene rolled away from him, positioning herself to stand up. “Didn’t need to, to be honest.” he replied smugly. “Well, initially I thought there would be one since we got along quite nicely throughout the ceremony but then she took my advice to heart as she is in a search for a lover and danced with the said prospect.” he replied, trying to sound nonchalant, making Irene grin. “No pretty bridesmaid who accepted the pleasure of dancing with the great Sherlock Holmes?” she asked.

ADLOCK FANFIC SKIN

He ran his fingers over her hair, his body feeling her soft skin against his own before replying. It’s okay to admit that you, too, can feel lonely.” she muttered against his chest, softer than he has expected. The speech, the song, saving a man’s life at your best friend’s wedding… I was right when I figured you’d leave early. Smiling up at him, he could see the look of triumph in her eyes as she read through him clearly through the snarky letters he had written in his friend’s online journal. She inched closer, molding into his body like the thousands of times they have embraced. In one swift movement, Sherlock pulled her to him, taking her in his arms before she could even finish her sentence. I think it’s mostly me knowing that no one will disturb us in a while so…” “Is this why you came? You viewed this as a cry for help?” He slumped back to the mattress, eyes closed, shaking his head ever-so-slightly. To both their surprise, Sherlock sighed heavily. “So why this ‘hommage’ then?” she retorted, scrolling through Sherlock’s account of the wedding in John’s blog. His eyes narrowed at her, as if she’s finally shared her deepest desires with him all for a trap’s sake. “I figured you’d be bitter.” Irene mused.

There’s nothing in her behaviour, nor in her physicality that suggests she’s in danger to merit such a visit.įinally, she sat up, eyes trained just on him, making him ridiculously flustered despite having looked her in the eyes a million times. “Well, what?” he replied, eyeing her curiously. He turned his body ever so slightly to go back and face her, only to meet her still amused gaze. Irene snuggled against the pillow Sherlock had just abandoned and he could definitely hear her satisfaction as she made herself more comfortable in his bed. “No,” he replied flatly, positioning himself to sit down and turn away from her. She closed her eyes, lips playing with a smile and said, “So you often dream about me?” Irene moved even closer to him, sealing their proximity. “Go away…”Ībruptly, he tear the sheet away from his face and looked more closely at his guest, making Irene raise her eyebrows in curiousity. He pulled the sheets over his head, irritated. Apparently we really shouldn’t tell children that John and his wife have gone on Sex Holiday.” * he heard her read with a laugh. “Apparently we aren’t allowed to call it Sex Holiday. He squinted his eyes to clearly focus on the culprit and found none other than The Woman lying carelessly beside him, with her hair loose and her frame clad in his purple shirt, his mobile phone in her hands. Sherlock woke up to the sound of muttering against his ear, the familiar voice sounding pitchier and more amused than usual. This post got me inspired to write this fic so thanks to and for the unintentional prompt.

Adlock fanfic