summary: you are john’s teenage sister and have to stay with him in 221B because you had a fight with you parents. the only problem is, he forgot to tell Sherlock.
You knocked on the door of 221 bakerstreet. Your older brother john said that you could stay with him for a while. After having a huge argument with you parents you needed some time away from them and seeing as you had nowhere else to go, you’re brother offered for you to stay with him. This way he knew you weren’t getting in any trouble and you had a decent place to stay. Seeing as you are still a teenager he is very protective over you. You find this annoying most times, but at times like this it is really nice to have a brother like him.
Soon enough a friendly looking lady opened the door. “hi, I’m here for john-””-and Sherlock, just up the stairs dear.” She cut you off before you could finish you sentence. You had heard of you Sherlock Holmes before, obviously, but you weren’t really impressed by him. To you he just seems like a cocky and narcissistic detective. Maybe you were wrong, guess you have to wait to find out for a few more steps.
Without giving it much thought you opened the door to 221B and stepped inside. “We’re not taking any clients” you hear a voice say. Your eyes quickly turned to the man in a robe sitting not too far from you. Assuming this was Sherlock, you never payed enough attention to the news surrounding him to know what he looked like, you said “I’m not a client actually, I’m here for my brother john”, this sparked an interest inside him. He quickly stood up and walked over to you. ”You’re not his sister, you’re not even old enough to drink” he said factual.
“Hey, I’m eighteen!” you defended yourself “beside I am his sister so where is he, know I want to know where my brother is” you said in a stern voice, showing that he doesn’t scare you. Instead of answering you question he deicide to ask “why are you here”. “Where is my brother” he replied determent to get an answer before even thinking of explaining anything to this man.
Soon enough you were having an argument with him. After about half an hour john arrived home to find his teenage sister and flatmate arguing. When the door opened both of your attention turned to the man standing in the doorway. “John!” you both screamed at him at the same time. Before you had the change to say anything Sherlock asked him “who is she and why is she here” with an irritated tone. “She’s my sister Sherlock, didn’t I tell you that she will be staying with us for a while” john answered with a sight. Without giving Sherlock time to say anything john picked up your suitcase and said “come on Y/N, I’ll show you to your room” you gladly followed him with a smirk on your face, leaving the consulting detective behind.
AH, DEMOCRACY: "Those bloody students didn't vote in the way I personally approve of, so I don't think they should be allowed to vote at all." (with many thanks to christinamartin over on Twitter for this one!)
Requested by anon: Any Pairing: Reader x ?. I’ve got an idea where (Y/N) is hiding something and acting strange but when her boyfriend questions her about it, she avoids answering. This continues until he accuses her of cheating and during their argument she blurts out she’s pregnant (or something).
& Anon: There's not enough love for John!!! Can I have a protective John please?? Reader is johns wife or girlfriend and something happens?? Reader is close friends with Sherlock who is also protective of course...but I'm craving protective sweet John!!
Pairing: John Watson x reader
Word count: 1,584
Warnings: I’m not sure.
A/N: This gave so many twists... I swear there are five different versions of this story, but this one won over the others.
Enjoy!
The case had been difficult; the criminal was a true mastermind of simplicity. They had taken so much time to figure it out, and then to chase after him was even worse. But perhaps, the worse thing of them all was that (Y/N) had been involved accidentally.
She knew John would be following Sherlock all night long until they caught the criminal, but she had never expected her best friend to be the ones they were looking for. So when Sherlock and John appeared at the café and started the persecution, she had no other choice but to help them catch him.
Everything was fine, until he ran towards an alley with literal whole all over the pavement. For John and Sherlock it was nothing hard to jump them or dodge them, but to (Y/N) and her high heels it was more than a medium obstacle, which resulted in her falling to one of the whole and hurting her ankle. Thankfully, her friend’s heart remained the same, and he stopped to check on her, allowing Sherlock to arrest him.
“Let me see.” John begged as the cab started driving to 221B Baker Street. Sherlock had taken her friend to Lestrade while John carried her all the way to the main street and called for a cab.
(Y/N) showed him her ankle reluctantly. “What will happen to him, John?”
“He will probably be in jail for a while.” He replied nonchalantly as he checked her. “Does it hurt if…?”
“OUCH!” She complained, John furrowed.
“I barely touched you.” He said, although it sounded more like him thinking out loud. “It’s already swollen, and it hasn’t been more than twenty minutes… I think it’s a sprain. Can you move it?”
“No.” She said angrily, “John, he has a reason as to why he did it…”
“Yes, he is a criminal and a cock.” John argued, “Come on.” The cab had arrived to Baker Street. John payed and then carried her all the way up.
“Can’t we go to a hospital?” She inquired.
“No, you have everything you need here. I don’t trust British doctors.” He muttered as he helped her to lie on the leather couch and set a few cushions for her to rest her foot on.
“You are a British doctor.” (Y/N) observed.
“That’s exactly my point.” John said and walked to the kitchen, opening the freezer to look for ice packs. “Another one?” He exclaimed, “He can’t be serious.”
It was probably a head, or a bag of eyes or the testicle sack of an old man; but whatever it was, John wouldn’t have gotten mad at, because he was used to it. So when he complained, (Y/N) realized that John wasn’t being himself.
He was a doctor, an army doctor, which meant he worked perfectly fine under pressure. He was used to seeing loads and loads of blood and other disgusting things; used to having people die in his arms, and so. But when it came to his loved beings, Doctor John Watson turned into John, the man who could faint if (Y/N)’s nose bleed for more than twenty minutes.
It was perhaps that he knew what a slight injury could turn into without the proper care, or maybe that he cared too much. Whatever the reason, (Y/N) knew he was trying his best not to let his feelings for her to interfere with his medical training.
He returned, controlling the tremble of his hands and wrapped her ankle carefully in a thin cloth before applying the ice packs all over.
“Now, you can’t walk, nor jump, nor sprint… Understood?” He inquired softly, kneeling to be face to face with her.
“Technically, I can walk, or at least jump as long as I don’t put weight on the sprained…” John shook his head.
“Technically my arse, you stay here and whatever you need you call me and I help you.” He insisted.
“What if I want to go to the bathroom?” She asked playfully.
“You call me and I will help you get up and to the bathroom and then back to the couch.” John repeated.
“I’d say the couch is too uncomfortable.” Sherlock spoke, entering the room. “I won’t sleep tonight, she can use my bed.”
John thought it through. “Hate to say it, but you are right.”
“Obviously,” he said, as he searched for something at the drawers of his desk. “Pain killers?”
“I was going to go buy some right…” John was interrupted. Sherlock had found ibuprofen on his desk.
The detective handed the box to (Y/N) and walked to the kitchen to give her a glass of water.
“Right…” John mumbled, “Take two.”
“I’m not feeling that much pain…” She muttered.
“Doctor’s orders.” Sherlock insisted, giving her the glass of water.
“Why aren’t you sleeping tonight?” John asked Sherlock.
“There’s an experiment I must do.” He answered absentmindedly.
-
“John, I know it’s my bed… But you can get in anytime you want. I won’t judge or anything.” Sherlock spoke, as he cut a human tongue into squares.
“Thank God no one heard that.” John muttered.
“I did.” Mrs. Hudson cheered, leaving Sherlock’s room after helping (Y/N) to put on an elastic compression band.
“I did too!” (Y/N) shouted from the room.
Sherlock and John rolled their eyes.
“Whatever, go with her, John.” Sherlock begged, turning his back on his friend and focusing on the finger tips he had kept at the oven.
“I’m so glad I never bake…” John mumbled as he saw the finger tips and then entered the room.
The room was dark and messy, just like John had expected. Unlike the common belief, he hadn’t been there much except that time Irene drugged Sherlock and he dragged him in, and those few minutes while he tried to wake him up after pulling all-nighters. Other than that, the room was a complete stranger to him.
“Someone needs a cleaning lady.” Watson joked as he climbed the bed to be by her side.
“Your room is just as messy.” (Y/N) commented and John giggled.
“Right.” He said, “How are you feeling?”
“I’ve been better, but I’ve also been worse.” (Y/N) replied playfully.
“Good.”
“You aren’t really comfortable with this, are you?” (Y/N) inquired in a whisper.
“Nope.” John answered truthfully. “Not only my girlfriend is at Sherlock Holme’s bed, but so am I!”
“I know… It’s odd, but I’m sure any of your fangirls would squeal if they read this on your blog.” She winked and both of them laughed.
“That’s definitely not going to happen.” John breathed out, “Tomorrow we’ll go upstairs, I promise.”
“Why not now?” (Y/N) inquired.
“I don’t want you to move your foot too much, also Sherlock has the bathroom closer and the kitchen is right outside and… It’s better for you.” John explained.
“You treat me like I’m going to break if I move… It’s just a sprain.”
“I know.” John whispered, “But you’re too precious for me, and I can’t let you get hurt even more.”
“It’s just a sprain.” (Y/N) insisted.
“A sprain, a paper cut, a fallen hair… I don’t mind, I want to take care of you.” John confessed.
“And I appreciate it, but you’re too worried and it’s not healthy.” (Y/N) caressed his cheek and John leaned closer to her palm.
“I won’t ever stop worrying about you.” John said, looking directly into her eyes, “You are too important for me… I would do anything for you.”
“Anything?” She asked.
“Yes, just say the word and I’ll do it.” John insisted, finally relaxing and allowing his head to fall over the pillow – which smelled like Sherlock, but John decided to ignore that.
“Please don’t get mad, then.” She begged carefully.
“Mad? Why would I be mad?” John inquired.
“I’ve been lying to you.” (Y/N) said, “There’s a reason why I… You know, I’ve been going out too much lately and…”
“Please tell me it’s not what I think it is.” John begged.
“That depends on what you think this is.” (Y/N) whispered.
“Are you seeing someone else?” John stuttered.
“No.”
“Then what is it?” (Y/N) took in a deep breath and hesitated before finally talking.
“I’m pregnant.” She said, “Everyone knows… except you.”
John hugged her tightly, leaving wet kisses all over her face as a pearly tear left his eye, slipping past her warm smile. “It’s great news… Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“Sherlock deduced it last month when we were having dinner at Molly’s… the time that you arrived late.” (Y/N) explained, “I made them promise not to tell you until I was sure…”
“Sure of what?” John asked, worry started to invade his whole self once again.
“To be sure that the baby is safe… You know, with all the criminals around…”
“When we trapped your friend, you said he had his reasons…” John muttered.
“He became a criminal just to make sure no one was planning to attack me or the baby.” (Y/N) explained.
“Oh…” John cleared his throat, “I’m going to call Lestrade tomorrow morning, then.”
“Thanks.” She nuzzled against his chest.
“So, going back to the… baby subject…”
“Yes?”
“I think it’s only fair that we start looking for names and a bigger flat for that matter.” (Y/N) giggled.
“Aren’t you tired?” She asked.
“Not as long as I’m in Sherlock Holme’s bed.” (Y/N) laughed loudly.
“Fine.” She agreed, “I like Hamish.”
“Nope.”
“What about William? Scott?” (Y/N) listed.
“Aren’t those Sherlock’s other names?”
“Indeed.”
“I like them.”
| Sherlock Version | Moriarty Version |
Masterlist.
John Tags: @martinfreemanisababe @roseyhxnt @vancepter
Requested by @nonstopwriter: could you make a john Watson x reader where the reader was in a mental hospital for a while bc of a suicide attempt and she got out but she has flashbacks of what happened in the hospital and John helps her deal with them?
Pairing: John Watson x reader
Word count: 727
Warnings: Does the whole escence of the story counts? I don’t think so...
A/N: Tonight’s the night of short stories, but I hope they’re worth it.
Enjoy!
The white walls.
The stairs, those cold stairs.
The smell of medicine.
That white light at the doctor’s office.
The doctor’s voice asking about your week.
That awful nurse you hated so much.
The food, oh the food.
Those bits of air you got every once in a while.
The pain…
(Y/N) sat up in bed, sweating, panting heavily. She had had another flashback. But why? She was supposed to have forgotten everything about that mental hospital she was in, about her pain – the one that got her there in the first place – she was supposed to forget it all and never ever remember it back.
John appeared at the door. “Are you all right?” He asked softly.
“Yes, yes, why are you up so late?” She asked, noticing the cup of tea on his hand.
“You’ve been very loud tonight.” He explained sheepishly. (Y/N) looked down shyly.
“I’m sorry, I just… I had a nightmare, it’s all.” She said.
“That didn’t sound like a nightmare at all.” John insisted. He walked closer, sitting on the edge of the bed, right in front of her and handing her the cup of tea.
“I don’t…”
“It’s yours.” John insisted, “I drank mine five minutes ago.” (Y/N) nodded and took the cup, taking a sip from it before John continued. The warmth of the tea made her feel better, as well as the attention John was giving her. “So, what was it?”
“Remember I told you about the… Mental hospital I was in?” She struggled to say. It was as if saying it out loud made it worse. John nodded. “I thought I had blocked it from my mind but… Apparently it’s there.”
“What do you mean?” John inquired, putting a hand over her blanket-covered leg.
“I’ve been having flashbacks lately… They started a week ago and now I can’t even sleep because every time I close my eyes for more than two seconds it all comes back…” Her voice had become lower and lower until it was merely a whisper. “It’s like I was dragged back to it… I can’t… I…” Tears started dripping from her eyes. John cupped her cheek, wiping the tears away with his thumbs.
“Hey, hey,” he called, “I’m here… I’m here.” He moved closer, sitting by her side and pulling her into a warm embrace.
“I don’t know what to do… I thought they would go away eventually but…” She sniffed, not needing to say more because John knew it.
“It’s normal.” He said, “I had flashbacks all the time after the war… You just have to find something else to keep your mind busy.”
“Like solving crimes?” She joked and John laughed lightly.
“Like solving crimes.” She left the cup at her night table and nuzzled closer to John. The ex-military held her tightly against his chest, making sure to breathe slowly because, for some reason, that’s what people did to calm the others. (Y/N) couldn’t stop crying, and even when John felt her tears wetting his shirt, he didn’t pull away.
“Can you stay with me tonight?” She inquired in such a low volume John thought he had imagined it.
“Of course.” He said, “I’ll stay with you for as long as you need.”
“Thanks, John.” She pecked his cheek shyly and John replied by kissing her forehead.
They shifted a little so they were both under the covers, with John holding her like one holds a tiny piece of paper during a windy day. She was fragile, vulnerable at that moment, and he’d be damned if he didn’t do anything about it.
Of course, (Y/N) woke up a few more times during the night, but she would wake up to a John ready to calm her down, to talk to her until she drifted once more to sleep. She felt a bit guilty for not letting him rest without knowing that his love for her made it possible for him to spend a sleepless night and still feel great the next morning – mostly because he had spent the night by her side.
And when things got rough and her pain was too much to bear, John was there, ready to drop the case just to go back to her and drag her away from the memories. John was her rock, her saviour and not even Sherlock could argue with that.
Requested by anon: hiii, can you do a john watson x reader where the reader is jealous because john have a date, so when she thinks that he goes out she admits to sherlock that she loves john, but john actually didn't leave and listen what she said? thank you :)
Summary: After John goes out on a date, Sherlock and (Y/N) share an odd conversation about her true feelings for the doctor, without knowing that John hadn’t really left the building.
Pairing: John x reader
Word count: 2,050
Warnings: None.
A/N: Sherlock working as Cupid... An idea I never had until today. This will be fun. Also, I’m so proud of the title I chose... It’s awful, but I love it.
Enjoy!
John the Bachelor. With his hedgehog face and bright blue eyes, grey hair and that huge heart he had that made Sherlock Holmes seem to be even worse. No, John the Bachelor wasn’t like that, but Dr. John Hamish Watson was.
Not many people noticed the difference, and the ones that did never cared to remark it. That’s what press does: it turns you into a character, a person with limited, repetitive traits. A soulless monster. Which is exactly what they had made John appear to be to the eyes of the blind.
A man who’s only two purposes in life were following Sherlock Holmes on every adventure and case he decided to take and to flirt with every single girl in England - and maybe even further. He was the womanizer, according to the papers; one that could never be satisfied with just a single woman. He needed many, he needed all of them.
Fortunately, neither Sherlock, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade, Mycroft nor (Y/N) saw him like that. On the contrary, for them he was that brave, wise and kind man looking for the love of his life… Always in vain.
He wasn’t a womanizer, not at all, but rather a man who’s type was open for any woman to fulfil. After all, love can be found at the most unexpected places, with the most unexpected people.
This is exactly the conversation (Y/N) and Sherlock shared right after John left on yet another date.
(Y/N), who had always had a soft spot for that ex-military doctor and how selfless he was, couldn’t help but to feel jealous when a ginger beauty got his eyes at a bar nearby. Her curvy body and the deepness of her grey eyes had made John fall almost instantly attracted for her, and, as any other smart girl who read the papers, she didn’t say no when he asked her out.
The theatre, the park, a fancy restaurant… It didn’t really matter where he took them. The reporters and paparazzi would always be there, expectant, craving for some news. Meanwhile, the girls would enjoy their five minutes of fame as “another one of the Watson’s girls.”
“It’s unbelievable!” (Y/N) fumed as she shattered – or tried to – the newspaper that Mrs. Hudson had kindly got them that morning.
“It is indeed.” Sherlock agreed, although he wasn’t paying total attention to her words.
“A womanizer, a Bachelor who’s appetite can’t be satisfied… What kind of press is this?” She continued.
“The bad kind.” Sherlock muttered, “Wait, press? I thought we were talking about how unbelievably jealous you are of his date.”
“Not funny.” She hissed. Sherlock smiled widely, mockingly, as his eyes got framed by many crinkles and his pearly white teeth showed.
“I find it hilarious.” He chuckled and the grin vanished, returning to his usual serious face. “I believe you should ask him out.”
“Right, you’re the expert.” She snapped sarcastically.
“Well, I understand how everybody wants a bit of space in the newspapers… And you haven’t gotten much credit in spite of being of great help during our cases.” Sherlock said nonchalantly, “You deserve those five minutes of fame.”
“I don’t want fame, Sherlock!” She exclaimed, “You honestly don’t understand the real deal here, do you?”
Sherlock pouted for a second as his mind wandered to every last bit of information in his brain. “I believe not.”
“Sherlock Holmes. The great Sherlock Holmes can’t deduce something as simple and obvious as this.” A loud laugh left her lips.
“I deduce that you are especially sarcastic today.” Sherlock observed. He flopped on his chair and gestured for her to take Watson’s seat. She obeyed. “Explain to me, (Y/N). What goes on in that little head of yours?”
“You honestly don’t know?” She inquired. Sherlock thought it for a second before shaking his head in fake defeat.
“But I sense that it’s something related to John… Possibly physical attraction involved.”
“It’s more than that.” She whispered as he spoke.
“Explain to me, then.” Sherlock asked once more, making sure to wink at her – or at least that’s what she believed.
“John is… I… uh…”
How to explain feelings to a man incapable of feeling? Sherlock Holmes was heartless, unable to feel empathy for anyone, cold minded and utterly sceptic of the existence of love. Then how would she explain that, whenever Watson said her name, her heart skipped a beat? How to explain that every time her eyes met his she inertly prayed for him to feel the same connection she felt? How to explain that every smile, ever minimal touch or simple the fact of being in the same room made her whole week a lot happier? How to explain that his pain was shared by her, even when she didn’t truly understand it, because just seeing him broken broke her?
“I’m waiting.” Sherlock insisted, taking her out of her own mind.
“I’m trying to find the right words to explain.” She spoke carefully, “It’s hard to try and make you understand feelings, less to say empathize.”
“Feelings?” Sherlock nodded. He squinted, analysing her like he always analysed people of interest. “I’m sure I can understand them.”
“I truly don’t believe so.” She said and just when she tried to stand up Sherlock pushed her back to the chair.
“No one moves until you explain these… Feelings.” Sherlock warned, as if there was more than just them in the room.
“Fine.” She gave up. “John is a very especial someone to me… A dear friend and someone who I can rely on.”
“You mean someone you feel sexually and romantically attracted to.” Sherlock interrupted – as usual.
“Let me finish.” Sherlock granted her that pleasure with an encouraging gesture. “At first I believed it was the massive amount of time we all spend together…”
“But it couldn’t be because you also spend lots of time with me and you don’t feel that kind of attraction.” Sherlock interrupted once more.
“Maybe because you’re a sociopath.” Sherlock smirked sassily and allowed her to continue. “It didn’t matter at all back then. It was just the three of us, solving cases and drinking awful amounts of tea.”
“But then he started dating other women.”
“Indeed.” She replied shyly. “It didn’t truly matter, as I said before, because he would only have one night dates with them and that would be the end of it…”
“But then…?”
A memory invaded her mind. John, getting ready to go out with another woman – a woman who he had already dated before.
“I’ve never gotten this far… The second date.” He explained happily.
“It must be a big deal then.” (Y/N) joked, covering the jealous rage that burned her insides.
“I really hope so…”
“Why? Why is it so important?” John hesitated before replying.
“I feel alone.” He confessed, “Sometimes it happens to people… It’s nice to have someone to relax with, someone to talk about everything and anything, you know?” (Y/N) nodded.
“I know. But do you honestly think this girl or basically any other you’ve dated can fit with your desires?” Another hesitation from John.
“They’re probably not the exact woman that I want,” he said, “but we always fall for the ones who don’t love us. So I might as well give them a chance to shine.”
“To shine under your spotlight, I’d say.” (Y/N) snapped. Her heart had been shattered with just one sentence.
“I had always tried to show him how much I cared, even if I didn’t really confess my true feelings… Not even to myself.” She explained, “And it broke my heart to know that he couldn’t… Count on me to do that.”
“Do what?”
“Talk.” She responded, “Chat about anything and everything, share sleepless nights and childhood anecdotes… Buy a dog, buy a house, and grow a family… He simply didn’t trust me enough.”
“I beg to differ.” Sherlock lifted an eyebrow.
“Your arguments are…”
“He confessed to you his inner wishes.” Sherlock answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “That’s something one doesn’t confess to anyone.”
“John isn’t you.” (Y/N) snapped.
“Of course he isn’t.” Sherlock giggled, “That’s why you love him and not me.”
“I don’t…”
“Don’t try to deny it.” Sherlock continued, “You might be surprised of the things that could happen when someone… opens up to the world.”
“You’re the expert.” She chuckled sarcastically.
“You’re repeating expressions.” Sherlock snapped back. “Just for the fun of it, tell me exactly how you feel about John. And feel free to be as cheesy as you want, he is a romantic after all.”
“Why would I care to be cheesy for him if he is not listening?” (Y/N) inquired. Sherlock nodded playfully.
“As I said: Just for the fun of it.” (Y/N) leaned back on the chair. She sensed the smell of John tattooed on the red fabric, making her feel safe, feel at home. “What is his smell causing you?”
“How…? Never mind.” The smell was stronger then, and (Y/N) felt as if Sherlock had purposely sprayed the seat with Watson’s cologne just for her to react. “I feel at home. I feel safe and so happy…”
“Why?”
“Because that what John makes me feel.” She explained, “The smell is just stimulating my brain to remember him and react as if he was here.”
“What else?”
“Whenever he says my name.” She continued, “Everybody calls me by my name, but only John makes it count… No offense.”
“Not taken.”
“He uses this… Tone. It’s different from the many more that have been used to call me.”
“A loving tone.” Sherlock inquired.
“Exactly.” She granted, “He makes me feel loved, which of course result in me…”
“Loving him back.” Sherlock deduced.
“Yes, are you ever going to let me say that part?” Sherlock gave her a warm smile.
“I was hoping you’d do it faster.” Sherlock noted.
“Fine.” She sighed heavily, “I love John Watson… I feel enamoured with him in every possible way, and I can’t honestly imagine what would be of me if he ever ended up with someone who isn’t me.”
“Because you love him.” She nodded, “Why haven’t you told him that?”
“Because he doesn’t love me back, that’s why.” She cleared her throat, trying to get rid of that knot that had been formed while pronouncing those words.
“How can you tell?”
“If he loved me back, he would ask me out, not other women.”
“Maybe he didn’t ask you out for the same reason.” Sherlock suggested, “Maybe he doesn’t feel deserving of such attention from you.”
“Why would he ever think that?” Sherlock leaned back on his chair and looked behind (Y/N), who turned around to see John, standing right behind her.
“Because he believes you’re too much for an ex-military doctor who follows a narcissistic idiot all around England solving ridiculously dramatic cases.” Watson explained shyly.
“You’re forgetting that I also follow you two on said cases.” (Y/N) mumbled back.
John breathed out a chuckle. “True.”
“I thought you were out on a date.” She whispered shyly.
“I was… But apparently my boss made me cancel, claiming that it was urgent for me to come back here…” John gave Sherlock a death glare. The detective waved at him playfully. “Turns out he wanted me to listen.”
“You never listen.” Sherlock observed.
“I know.” John hissed.
“Then what are you waiting for?” Both (Y/N) and John shared a confused glance. “She said that, if you loved her back, you would ask her out instead of other women, so go on and ask her out.”
John breathed in deeply. “It would be less embarrassing if you weren’t guiding us like puppets.”
“What can I say? I enjoy human manipulation.” John and (Y/N) giggled at his statement. “I’ll turn around if it makes you feel more comfortable.”
“Yeah, that would be nice.” Sherlock turned his head, to the right, where the mirror over the chimney worked perfectly to allow him to watch the scene. A pleased look shone over his face as Watson and (Y/N) smiled awkwardly at each other.
“So… (Y/N)…” John licked his lips.
“Yes?” Her cheeks blushed.
“Would you go out with me? Tonight?” A smile grew on her face at the same time as another grew on Sherlock’s.
Requested by anon: can you do a one shot where the reader is sherlock sister and she fall in love with john, but she's very shy so john makes the first move?
Summary: Sherlock’s sister comes to pay a visit. She impressed John with how different she is from her brothers, making him fall instantly for her. Sherlock notices and encourages him to ask her out.
Pairing: John x reader
Word count: 1,651
Warnings: None.
A/N: As a Sherlock girl, this was an interesting thing to do. I’m not sure if I got John correctly, but since I liked the final result, I hope that you do to.
Enjoy!
To be a Holmes wasn’t particularly an honour, especially when one of your brothers was the only consultant detective in the world and the other had a major spot at the British government. But family is family.
“A sister?” John spoke. His voice resonated from the other side of the door, reaching her ears in a morphed sound.
“Yes, my sister. She’s at the other side of the door and you’re making a drama instead of letting her in.” Of course, Sherlock obviously knew she had been standing there for the past ten minutes, listening to John’s tantrum.
“All I’m saying is that you should’ve warned me first.” John hissed in a lower volume. (Y/N) might have not been Sherlock or Mycroft, but she did have a great ear. “I’ve got enough with you and your brother.”
“Just open the door.” Sherlock groaned. (Y/N) figured he would be laid down on the sofa or staring out at the window preparing himself to receive her.
John opened the door, and the view in front of him took his breath away. She wasn’t as he had imagined her in those short ten minutes he had since Sherlock confided to have a sister. She wasn’t as tall as Sherlock, and she didn’t have the usual “smelling crap” face but rather a shy, wide-eyes look that resembled to a scared mouse. “Hi.” John breathed out a smile.
“Hi, sorry to come like this… I guess I should’ve known my brother would tell you last minute.” She spoke rapidly.
“No problem, I’m getting used to unexpected Holmeses… ness…” John stuttered and cleared his throat. “Sorry, come in.”
“Thanks.” As soon as she stepped into the messy apartment, Sherlock turned around dramatically from his spot at the window – as she had figured out already – to look at her, wearing a big smile and extending his arms to her.
“(Y/N/N)!” He cheered as he walked over to her, “My dear, less intelligent, sister.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes, “How are you?”
“Fine.” She simply replied, “Mom and dad say hi, she wants me to give you some cookies she made but I know you don’t like them so just text her saying they taste nice and were done.”
“Impressive.” John mouthed at Sherlock from behind her back.
“Work is fine, I’ve travelled a lot. I met a lady in Rumania that claimed to have met you, don’t ask her name, she thinks you’re the biggest arsehole she’s ever met.” (Y/N) continued, she had the Holme’s ability of fast-talking everything. “Mycroft and I had breakfast this morning so, for now, tea will be fine. You know how I like it.”
“I missed you.” Sherlock said once she was done talking.
“No you didn’t, but I did miss you so we’re even.” She winked at her brother playfully. Sherlock leaned down to hug her before walking to the kitchen to prepare her favourite tea – which Mycroft had made sure to send him just so Sherlock wouldn’t forget to buy it.
“So you’re all the same.” John sighed. (Y/N) turned around to see him.
“You wish.” She laughed, “My brothers are rather… Antisocial pricks. I’m the nice one.”
“Also the dumb one.” Sherlock added from the kitchen, “When Mycroft made me feel stupid, I would only need to go to her room to feel smart again.”
“Funny.” She hissed, but she knew it was his way of expressing his brotherly love.
“So, what do you work as?” John asked, inviting her to sit down at the living room with him.
“I do a lot of things.” She replied, “I travel, and take pictures, I go to art museums and plays… I write poems at times, and some others I teach people new languages.”
“She’s basically a fancy vagabond.” Sherlock finished. He came back from the kitchen with three tea cups, which he then handed to John and (Y/N) and kept one himself.
“I’m a free-lancer, it’s different.” Sherlock rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. He truly admired his sister’s free soul, and the fact that she could get out of her brain as she pleased, instead of dealing with it 24/7.
“That’s nice.” John commented, “I’ve always wanted to travel.”
The whole evening went by with John and (Y/N) talking about themselves, sharing stories and funny anecdotes and even exchanging jokes – something about a shabby paralian singing an aubade to a llama in Whales - while Sherlock moved his gaze from one to the other. He enjoyed his sister’s stories, but he was focused on how much chemistry his best friend and her had.
Of course, Sherlock noticed John’s attraction towards her from the second he opened the door and gasped at her beauty. He also noticed how her heart skipped a beat when John confessed to enjoy her favourite book as much as her. It was as if Sherlock had set them up for a date, especially because none of them were looking at him anymore, just staring into each other’s eyes as they spoke.
They would unconsciously mimic each other’s moves, and Sherlock could see how their feet pointed at the other. (Y/N)’s smile grew a bit wider whenever John spoke, and vice versa.
The night came and (Y/N) had to leave to her hotel. Neither Sherlock nor Mycroft would take her in at their own places – not that she would’ve enjoyed it anyway – but they would pay her a nice room at a nice hotel for her to enjoy her beloved solitude.
“It was delightful to meet you, John.” (Y/N) beamed.
“It was delightful to meet you.” John replied with a boyish grin.
“I will be in London for the rest of the week, maybe we should… Do something.” (Y/N) suggested, although she was careful enough to look at her brother as if she meant the three of them.
“Sure, Sherlock and I do need a rest from work.” John nodded.
“No, I don’t.” Sherlock squinted, receiving a death glare from (Y/N) and John.
“I’ll call you.” (Y/N) promised with a warm smile before giving a quick peck on Sherlock’s cheeks and left.
John breathed out a sigh as his looked turned into an enamoured glance at the door through which she had just left.
“I can’t believe how great your stupidity is.” Sherlock mocked his friend.
“Excuse me?” Watson furrowed angrily, “What is that supposed to mean?”
“My sister isn’t me, John.” Sherlock stated, “She does feel attraction, and she is attracted to you.”
“Don’t be absurd.” John snapped, “Someone as – as precious as her would never…”
Sherlock laughed again. “You honestly can’t be so dumb.” John groaned, “She hasn’t called a cab yet because she wants you to ask her out.”
John was about to argue but he knew it would be in vain. He did like (Y/N), and he had considered to ask her out after ten minutes of talking with her, but he felt like it would be wrong considering it was his best friend’s sister.
“John, in spite of the common belief, my sister is too shy.” Sherlock explained, “I would have to ask things for her when we were kids. She won’t make a move until you do.”
“She’s your sister.” John mumbled.
“Obviously.” John rolled his eyes, Sherlock then understood what he meant. “John, I trust you not to be a prick or whatever it is that I’m supposed to be worried about. Just go for her before she calls her cab.”
“Right, I’m going for her.” Watson nodded and breathed in as if he were going into battle. “Wait, what if Mycroft kills me?”
“He won’t kill you; we’re not the ordinary type of brothers.” Sherlock insisted, gesturing for John to go out and even opening the door for him.
“I know.” John inflated his cheeks with air before letting it out as a deflated balloon. “Don’t pressure me.”
“Not pressuring you, but…” Sherlock checked his clock, “She just lifted her hand to call the cab.”
John didn’t need more incentive. He ran out of the flat as fast as he could, stumbling right at the door, which caused his triumphant comeback to turn into a clumsy one. However, (Y/N) found it adorable, and couldn’t help but to giggle.
“Did the floor move, John?” She joked. John blushed slightly and walked carefully towards her.
“Minor earthquake, nothing serious.” He joked back.
“So…?” She lifted and eyebrow.
John opened and closed his mouth several times, looking for the right words. He looked back to the flat, and then at her. He scratched his head and rubbed the bridge of his nose. (Y/N) stared at his whole ritual with a tender smile on her lips.
“I uh…” John breathed in deeply, “I wanted to know if you’d like to go out with me… Sometime?”
“Sometime while I’m in London?” She inquired, unable to keep the blush from reeking through her cheeks.
“Yes.” John responded. A cab parked in front of them, and asked if they needed a ride.
“Just a minute.” (Y/N) begged the driver and he nodded. “I’d love to go out with you, John.”
John smiled widely at her. “Tomorrow evening?”
“Pick me up at my hotel.” She winked at him.
“Sure.” John muttered.
They stared awkwardly at each other for a split second before the driver horned to call her attention back. (Y/N) took a shot and kissed John’s cheek before walking confidently to the cab, without looking back at him until she was inside the black vehicle.
“Give Sherlock my thanks.” She asked and the cab started moving.
“What for?” John inquired, chasing the cab as it moved away slowly.
“For asking you to make the first move.” John giggled shyly at her statement. Allowing the cab to drive away from Baker Street.
John was damned to form part of the Holmes’ family one way or another, and he was thankful that it was through (Y/N) and not Sherlock.
