Various x Ftm Reader

Warning for a character being kissed without permission while in a relationship, reader being shorter than Sherlock

Sherlock dreaded the New Year's Eve party. Admittedly, so did you. Like Sherlock, you hated crowds, and being around people who were acquaintances at best. You found it easier to be friendly with everyone than Sherlock did, but that wasn't saying much.

Despite looking forward to everyone dispersing and being able to spend time with your partner alone, you sat in the living room, catching up with someone you hadn't seen for a while. You were relieved that you recognized most people in the crowd.

You weren't sure how long you had been talking when a lanky shadow appeared from behind you. You tilted your head back, and grinned at Sherlock's disgruntled face.

"Hello, there." You said, reaching for his arm.

He muttered something inaudible, coming around to the side of the chair, and crawling into your lap. You chuckled. "Is something wrong?"

He mumbled into your neck, kissing it.

"Sorry, didn't catch that."

"Kiss me." He replied, leaning in to kiss you.

You tilted your head back. "Why, what did you do?"

At that moment, your eyes flitted to someone who just appeared in the doorway. Even through the crowd, you spotted Molly as she froze in the threshold of the living room. The heartbreak flashing across her face was all too noticeable.

"I didn't want to." Sherlock said, your attention shifting to the man who lowered his own gaze.

"What are you talking about." Your voice was colder than usual. You trusted your partner—you wanted to, at least—but you couldn't stop a dreadful feeling from twisting inside you.

"She kissed me because there was mistle toe." He lifted your hand to his lips. "If it helps any, she was unaware that we were an item before doing it. I didn't want to."

You sighed, you couldn't help but feel slight betrayal—and whatever else was knotting itself in your throat. But you also knew that he had no feelings for Molly.

"Okay, thank you for telling me."

He somehow pressed himself closer to you and asked, "are you mad at me?"

You ran your hand through his curls. "No...I know it wasn't your fault, but thanks for telling me."

He nodded his head against your chest, making himself small by curling up in your lap.

As the night went on, it didn't stray far from the path of how other New Year's parties typically go. People kept making small talk around the room while sipping at their drinks. The only thing that strayed from the usual was the man sitting in your lap, regardless of your height difference.

When John started the countdown to midnight, Sherlock stood, reaching his hand out for yours. You took it and stood, him pulling you to his chest. He placed his hands on either side of your face, and as the countdown neared midnight, and once the midnight struck, his lips pressed against yours.