Standing on the Bull Pen's stage, John's grip tightens on his guitar and he looked at everyone begin to surround the stage. It wasn't like he was getting stage fright. He had performed many times before in front of all the members of Lost and Found and he enjoyed being on stage. No, the reason he was nervous was because of the song he was about to perform. The one he had written for you.
He had been in love with you ever since the both of you joined Lost and Found and the interactions the two of you had only cause him to fall deeper and deeper. You had taken over his every thought and had been the inspiration for the last ten songs he had written. So what better way to confess to you than through song.
Seeing you stand in the front row, smiling encouragingly as you tried making him feel better, thinking that nerves had got the better of him, only made him feel more nervous. Taking a breath, he adjusted his grip before beginning the opening notes of his song.
Request: Anon- Hi💕💕 SHERLOCK x READER please can I ask for one where reader is Johns little sister (not Harry) and she has a major crush on Sherlock but only told John. And after she lived at 221c for a while she goes on a case with Sherlock and Anderson is flirting with her, but Sherlock steps up for her and admits he loves her (even though he has always had feelings for her) sorry if it a little confusing Love your writing btw💕
Word count: 3k
A/N: I changed it up a little bit from the request but I hope you like it!
Masterlist in bio
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The chime of the doorbell rang through 221B Baker Street as Sherlock jumped from his chair, pulling him from his deep trance inside his mind palace.
“Finally a client.” He pulled the curtains back from the window, trying to get a better look.
“It’s not a client... Have you not been listening to me?” John asked, exasperated.
“I filter.” Sherlock muttered, removing his eyes from the window and losing interest.
John rolled his eyes at his answer and made his way down the stairs to open the door.
“John!” You smile as the door is flung open, dropping your bag and jumping into his open arms.
“Y/N! You made it!” John laughed, holding you in his embrace, “How was your trip?”
“Oh awful! The bloke next to me on the train would not shut up. I swear, three hours, I never saw him take a breath.” You chuckled as John grabbed your bag and led you up the narrow stairs.
You stepped into the darkened living room, your eyes going wide as you took in the space. Your brother was not lying when he said it was a bachelor pad.
Sherlock stood as you entered the room. He hadn’t been listening when John explained who this mysterious non-client was. Was it one of his girlfriends? He couldn’t keep up with how many come and go anymore. Although you were way out of his league.
“Y/N this is Sherlock Holmes,” John motioned, and Sherlock raised his hand to shake yours.
“Ah hello.” You smiled sheepishly. So this was the infamous Sherlock Holmes... John really had not done him justice when he described him. He’d mentioned the intimidating arrogant stare, but left out those cheekbones that could cut glass. Not to mention those curls.
“Y/N will be staying with us for a little while until she can find a place.” John explained once more.
“Hm, you’ve never let one of your girlfriends move in, what’s so special about this one?” Sherlock asked with his brows furrowed, examining you. You were a little younger, maybe five years or so, but there had to be something else.
Your jaw dropped as the words left his mouth, you turned to John who was seething beside you.
“She’s my bloody baby sister you cock.” John yelled, showing off that famous temper of his. Had he not told his flatmate that you were coming?
“Sister?” Sherlock’s eyes went wide, taking a step back.
“I told you this!” John yelled as they bickered like an old married couple.
“Are you adopted?” He turned back to you and asked, clearly not understanding how the two of you could be related.
“No, he’s just the runt of the family.” You answered with a smirk.
“Sister...” He muttered again, taking you in. Suitcase, train ticket poking out from your pocket. Of course, how didn’t he notice before? Why couldn’t he read it the moment you walked in the room. Why was he distracted? He’d seen beautiful women before and could still deduce them at the drop of the hat. Why were you making his senses falter?
“I just got a job in the city, still flat hunting.” You explained, because clearly he’d ignored the first few hundred times John told him.
“My apologies.” He nodded, still shocked at this new revelation.
“It’s alright, I was warned about you,” You laughed, not taking offense at the situation, as you followed John into the kitchen. He handed you a cup of tea as you took a seat at the counter.
“Warned? You warned her about me? Why?” Sherlock began pestering John after he’d taken a second to let your words sink in.
John deadpanned, like it was obvious, and to everyone else, it was.
“Really?” John asked, unamused.
“I’m not that bad, John.” Sherlock whined.
“In the 90 seconds that I’ve been here you accused my brother of being a whore and that we were in an incestuous relationship.” You retorted, taking a sip of your tea.
“Well I didn’t know you were related, you look nothing alike.” He argued.
“Aren’t you supposed to be a genius? Shouldn’t it be obvious even if he hadn’t mentioned it, which he did.” You shot back, knowing you’d won.
Sherlock didn’t say anything as he looked you up and down, before slowly turning to John.
“John I don’t think I like your sister, she’s mean.” He scowled as you and John chuckled. Sherlock huffed and left the room, nearly slamming his bedroom door.
“Well this is going to be fun.” You smirked, still looking off in the direction he fled.
“No,” John whipped around to face, his voice going stern as he raised a finger at you.
“What?” You asked, raising your hands in surrender. You hadn’t said anything to warrant this kind of response from your brother.
“No,” He pointed back to Sherlock’s door, and you rolled your eyes at the implied instruction to stay away from him. You couldn’t help it that he was your type to a tee, and it’s just so fun to watch him get all riled up when you teased him.
“So tell me about all these girlfriends, brother dear.” You rested your head on your hands, leaning towards him on the counter and changing the subject. John sighed, hoping his warning got through to you.
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“What are you doing?” Sherlock asked as he walked out into the kitchen, a few days into your stay at 221B.
“Cooking dinner.” You held up the large spoon as if it was obvious.
“Why?” He asked again, maintaining his annoyed tone.
“Because I’m hungry??” You answered, as if that was the stupidest question in the world. What was this man’s problem? Did he not eat?
“Where’s my petri dish?” He asked as he approached you, practically pushing you to the side to look for the small plastic plate. You couldn’t ignore, try though you may, the way your body reacted when his hand touched your waist.
“I moved it.” You spoke, hoping your voice didn’t falter due to the unexpected touch.
“Where?” He shot up, his eyes scouring the kitchen.
“Over there.” You pointed to the corner of the kitchen island with your large spoon still in hand.
“Did you touch it?” He asked, rushing to it.
“I mean I moved it, but I didn’t stick my finger in it.” You rolled your eyes, moving your finger in a swirling motion as you spoke. Did he think you were an idiot? You didn’t know what kinda bacteria was growing in there, you were not about to touch that and then start preparing food.
Sherlock stood silently as he inspected the dish.
“Are those eyeballs in the fridge? I’m a little afraid to look.” You chuckled, placing your hand on your hip, filling the silence.
“Then don’t.” He quipped back, not taking his eyes off the dish.
“You know normally, you put food in a fridge. You could play a real life game of operation with all the stuff you’ve got in there.” You teased with a smile.
“We don’t normally cook.” He explained, placing the dish down, satisfied that you hadn’t ruined it as he moved to take a seat at the counter across from you.
“Oh so is the kitchen just decorational then?” You asked, knowing you were getting on his nerves.
“How’s the flat search going?” Sherlock rolled his eyes, changing the subject.
“Ugh, everything’s so bloody expensive.” You groaned, turning back to the stove to stir the boiling pot, “I don’t know how you afford this place.”
“Landlady’s got drug money.” The detective said casually.
“You’re joking.” You laughed, turning back to face him, and he shook his head.
“Husband ran a cartel.” He said, you didn’t think he had it in him to joke.
“You’re taking the piss.” You shook your head with a smile, there was no way that could be true. Little old Mrs. Hudson?
“I’m serious.” He smiled, maybe that was the first time you’d seen him do that.
“What’s that smell?” John walked in the room, stopping as he saw the two of you laughing. He eyed you sternly, and raised a brow, clearly you weren’t listening to his warning.
“That smell, dear brother, is a home cooked meal. I know the concept is foreign to you.” You retorted, causing Sherlock to smirk, before quickly dropping it.
“How much longer will your sister be here, she’s interrupting my experiments.” Sherlock asked John, returning to his annoyed manner.
“She is right here, and she cooks and cleans so you can either deal with it, or help me find a new place if you want me out that bad.” You pointed the cooking spoon at him, though he didn’t find you very threatening. Something about you standing before him in an apron, with your hair falling into your face, threatening him with a wooden spoon brought a smile to his face.
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“What’s that?” You ask, looking over Sherlock’s shoulder as he sits at his desk. He must have been so deep in thought he didn’t hear you approaching.
“Go away, I’m working.” He swatted you away, knowing you’d distract him.
“Is that a body?” You leaned in closer, trying to get a better look.
“Yes, now go away.” Sherlock pushed you back as your hair fell onto his shoulder and he inhaled your scent, already distracted from the scene before him.
“So bossy, maybe I can help.” You said, stepping back and placing a hand on your hip.
“You could help? How could you possibly help? Your brother is a trained army doctor, that’s helpful. What’s a secretary going to do? File their papers?” He mocked as you rolled your eyes. You were a personal assistant, not a secretary, you didn’t just file papers all day.
“We’re good with details and eavesdropping.” You argued.
“Why aren’t you at work?” Sherlock asked, with brows furrowed after looking at the clock. You weren’t normally home during this time. He knew because it was the only time he could get work done without his mind wandering to you.
“Because my boss is on vacation in Malta and I’m bored out of my mind.” You sighed, flopping dramatically into the black plush chair next to the desk.
“So you think I’ll let you assist on this case? Not a chance.” Sherlock shook his head, turning back to the screen.
“Please, I’m so bored. Put me to work.” You begged, bouncing up from the chair and sitting on the arm.
“No.” He answered without turning away from the screen.
“Sherlockkk..” You whined. You were the youngest child, you knew how to get what you want, how to tear them down and break their will until they have no choice but to succumb to you.
“Dear lord, you are incessant.” He whipped back to you, the anger on his face causing a small smile to appear on your own.
“I’ll stop if you take me along. Please Sherlock, one case, and I’ll never ask again.” You pleaded, pressing your hands together almost as if in prayer.
“One?” Sherlock asked, and you knew you were getting somewhere.
“Just one, I wanna know what you do all day. What makes you come home and want to put eyeballs in the microwave.” You smirked, you were this close.
“You’re not giving up are you?” Sherlock huffed and shook his head with a small smile.
“Never.” You smiled, you could do this all day.
“Get your coat.” He instructed as you jumped from your seat, giddy.
You grabbed your coat off the rack and Sherlock pointed to you sternly as you slipped it on.
“You do exactly as I say, you hear me? You touch nothing. You say nothing.” He instructed, the glimpse of a smile you’d seen had now faded.
“May I blink?” You asked, as he moved towards the door.
“Don’t make me change my mind.” He turned back to you on the stairs, as you followed behind him, excitement still evident on your face.
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“Freaks here!” A woman yelled as the two of you entered the scene. You were mesmerized, you felt like you were living an episode of CSI. Is this what Sherlock does every single day?
“And he’s got a guest.” A man in a white plastic suit said, standing and approaching the two of you. Your eyes went wide as you noticed the body on the floor behind him.
“Phillip Anderson.” He smirked and stretched his hand to shake yours.
“Y/n Watson.” You smiled politely as you drew your attention from the body.
“Come on.” Sherlock instructed, pulling you towards the body and away from Anderson. You took in every detail.
“What do we know?” Sherlock asked another detective who was standing over the body.
“Oh are you John’s sister?” The new man asked and you smiled and nodded.
“Greg Lestrade, D.I.” He shook your hand, “God, I didn’t know John had a sister.”
“What do we know?” Sherlock asked again, his patience growing thin. Or was he jealous at the fact that everyone was so preoccupied with you?
“James Cartright, 43, lives in town. Neighbors filed a noise complaint, and the responding officer found his body.” Lestrade explained.
“Why do I know that name?” You muttered, pulling out your phone.
“I thought we’d agreed on the not speaking thing.” Sherlock rolled his eyes as he turned to you.
“I know that name. Yes! See,” You showed him the shared calendar with the scheduled meeting, “He met with my boss two weeks ago.” Sherlock examined it as the victim's name was clearly there.
“Why?” He asked, not seeing any notes below the appointment to provide a reason.
“Don’t know, it was after hours so it wasn’t work related. Though from what I heard Cartright was in the market for a good divorce attorney. My boss and his wife split a year ago.” You explained, sometimes eavesdropping paid off... Though not for the man sprawled on the ground below you with a bullet in his head.
“Find out who his wife is, and if she’s got an alibi.” Sherlock turned to Lestrade and instructed.
“See, told you I could be helpful.” You smirked, nudging Sherlock with your shoulder as Lestrade ran off. Sherlock didn’t want to admit it, but you did speed up the process. Though it was only a stroke of luck. Or fate.
“Are you going to be around more often, Y/N?” Anderson asked, approaching you once more.
“Nope, one time thing.” You shook your head and turned to Sherlock with a smile, you had promised after all, one case and one case only.
“Why don’t you let me buy you a drink? We can extend this one time thing.” Phillip flirted.
“Oh.” You turned back to him, your eyes going wide in shock. That’s not where you expected this to go.
“Or dinner. Or we could always skip to dessert.” His voice dropped and your breath hitched. No one had ever been this forward with you.
“Um,” Was all you managed to let out. After all your playful banter that’s so easy with Sherlock, and you couldn’t even find a way to respond to this advance. Obviously you weren't interested. You were ruthless, Sherlock had seen it, you could send him crying back to his mother with your words if you wanted. He’d never seen you at a loss for words.
“Anderson, stop pestering my girlfriend and do your bloody job.” Sherlock seethed. You barely snapped back to reality enough to register that Sherlock had called you his girlfriend. Obviously he was just lying to get Anderson off your back so he’d stop interrupting the investigation, he hated you. You were pretty certain of that. Anderson ran off as another detective had called him over.
“Thanks for that. Kinda threw me off guard, I’m not really used to guys talking to me like that. You’d think standing over a dead body wouldn’t be the most opportune moment.” You began to ramble.
“Anderson is an idiot.” Sherlock said, before going quiet. He liked how it felt when he called you his girlfriend.
“What if I didn’t want it to be a lie.” He muttered, drawing your attention as you looked up at him.
“What?” You asked, not sure what he was referring to.
“What if it was true?” He asked, unable to just come out and say it.
“That I was your girlfriend?” You asked with a chuckle and he nodded, “Why would you want that? I thought you hated me. I mean I annoy the living daylights out of you.”
“No you don’t. I like having you around.” He admitted, and you couldn’t believe he was saying this.
“You have a funny way of showing it.” You smiled, shaking your head.
“I know. It’s just, you bring out a different side of me. One I didn’t know I had. You make me want to be better, for you. I want to be a man that you could love.” He spoke, unsure of where these words were all coming from. The ones he’d thought in the dead of night but never dared to say out loud.
“What if I told you you already are, just the way you are.” You smiled, watching his eyes snap back to you in surprise.
“What?” He asked, brows furrowed. There was no way you were returning the sentiment. There was no way you felt the same way.
“Oh please, why do you think I tease you constantly. I’ve liked you from the moment I met you. John could tell, that’s why he told me to stay away from you.” You chuckled.
“That would explain his recent increased hostility.” Sherlock realized.
“He’ll get over it,” You smirk, “Now can we get out of here, because I really want to kiss you, but there’s a dead body like right there and it’s really putting me off.”
You laugh, causing Sherlock to laugh as well. You were going to get him in trouble. His best friend's little sister, yeah he’d never hear the end of that one... Although John didn’t necessarily have to know. For now at least. Three weeks, maybe four, that’s how long Sherlock suspected it would take for John to catch on. Maybe five if the two of you could keep your hands off each other long enough in his presence. This was going to be fun.
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Please let me know what you think! My requests are open but be warned this one was probably from three years ago so I kind of take forever to get around to them. It’s just about when I get inspiration for a story or think of some good dialogue.
Any and all feedback is greatly encouraged, even just a simple message helps!
A/N: okay i loved writing this because freddie was such an incredible unapologetic man that was proud to be himself. i hope that i did him and this request justice
Pairing: Freddie Mercury x Reader ((gender neutral))
Freddie’s arm around their shoulders provided a warm comfort to Y/N as they walked through the streets of London, a cigarette resting between his pointer and middle finger while talking quickly; a smile resting coyly on Y/N’s lips.
“I’m so excited about this darling. You’re gonna look hot.”
Y/N laughed loudly while covering their mouth, a flush settling prettily on their cheeks at the brashness and openness of the compliment.
“You think so?”
Freddie stopped walking and turned Y/N to face him, taking in their rosy cheeks and bottom lip caught between their teeth; a flutter in his chest making him feel light and lovely.
“I know so love.”
The soft breeze felt wonderful on both Y/N and Freddie’s skin as they continued to walk, Freddie quick to intertwine his fingers through Y/N’s before bringing the tangle up to his mouth and pressing a kiss to the back of their hand.
--
The bell twinkled as Freddie and Y/N walked through the door to the store, the soft thump of music created a backing track as other customers browsed and talked; the shop assistants floating around and helping.
Freddie wrapped an arm around Y/N’s waist and held them close, kissing their temple while they took in everything before being drawn to the male section. The pair began to walk through the shop then, hands intertwined and Freddie’s soft voice washing over them in a way that calmed their heart and brought pretty heat to their cheeks. Y/N’s fingers traced over the hung t-shirt button ups, soft to the touch and pretty to the eye; quick to pick up the ones they liked before moving along to trousers and jeans.
Y/N ran a hand through their hair as Freddie lazily looked at the pants, long fingers curling on the material as he took a closer look; the black nail polish and rings giving him an unbothered yet put together look at made Y/N breathless yet yearning to be able to be so comfortable. Freddie nodded his head along to the music as he picked out pants that he thought would look good on Y/N, tapping his fingers every once in a while against the clothing rack and causing Y/N to be overcome with an overwhelming urge to kiss his cheek so that’s what they did.
“What was that for darling?”
“I don’t know. I just couldn’t help it.”
Freddie’s laugh along with a soft mutter of ‘cheeky’ had Y/N’s cheeks flaring a pretty rose colour, a giggle leaving their lips as they looked away which caused them to become unaware of how Freddie was staring at them as if they hung every stare in the sky.
“Can I help you two with anything?”
The voice of the shop assistant caught Y/N and Freddie attention as they continued to giggle, the lady calm with a serene smile on her face until she caught sight of the clothes in Y/N’s arms.
“I think you’re in the wrong section. The female side of the store would be more suited to your needs I’m sure. I’m sure you’ll be able to find something lovely to make you look more feminine.”
The shop assistants voice was calm but the underlying malicious intent was obvious, Y/N’s stomach feeling like it had dropped quickly while their heart felt like it had been dropped in a bucket of ice water. It was a shock to Freddie that the lady in front of him and Y/N had the audacity to insult them in such a blatant way, his eyes travelling from the employee to Y/N and taking in the way that their hands were shaking and their cheeks and neck were bright red due to embarrassment; their eyes unfocused and glassy.
“I’m sorry but what’s your name?”
The sales assistant looked slightly startled for a moment at the question before she regained her composure and answered.
“My name is Adele.”
“Adele I don’t know where you think you have the right to insult a customer and also my best friend that is trying to find clothing that makes them feel comfortable and good about themselves, acting as if you’re superior just because you conform to what society dictates. I’m honestly ashamed that you had the audacity to come over to us while we were looking and inserting yourself in something that is none of your business and giving your opinion when honestly no one asked or wanted it in the first place. Maybe you should just but out and go help people that want to have you hover and give unnecessary snide remarks, we are fine here by ourselves.”
Freddie’s voice was calm and polite during the ordeal, not letting his eyes stray from Adele’s as he took a deep breath after the final word left his lips and watched as the sales assistant went red and looked stunned; her mouth open and closing a few times before clearing her throat.
“I-I’m sorry about what I said. If either of you n-need help just give a-a shout and someone will be glad to h-help.”
Adele left quickly to the other side of the store to assist some women on the other side of the store that were looking slightly lost, Y/N’s bottom lip between their teeth when Freddie turned to look at them.
“Are you okay darling?”
His arms wrapped around their waist and held them close before leaving a soft yet lingering kiss on Y/N’s forehead, a soft feeling blossoming in their chest as if an ethereal garden began to grow. A rogue tear fell from Y/N’s left eye and kissed their cheek before Freddie’s thumb softly wiped it away, cradling their face delicately and brushing his thumbs smoothly over the apples of Y/N’s cheeks.
“Y-Yeah I’m f-fine. Thank you so much for standing up for me.”
Y/N leaned into the touch, pressing a soft kiss to Freddie’s palm before stepping away and walking towards the change rooms, their fingers clutching the shirts in their hands. Freddie followed behind in a way that had some of the women on the other side of the store captivated, reaching Y/N and grabbing their hand gently.
For: Karkat, Dave, Terezi and John
Yep this was unasked for but we do need to get this blog started technical issues or not. I hope I did ok with this!
Dave:
-honestly Dave loves holding you tight, he wants to know for sure that you’re there and that he’s not dreaming
-On the downlow he’s scared that one day he’s going to wake up and it’s going to turn out that you’re not real and that you were a figment of his imagination
-He loves holding you to him so that you’re both looking at each other, that way you can see each other when you talk
-That and his head is on your chest so he can hear you breath and hear your heartbeat which he finds really soothing
-Bonus: If you play with his hair he might just fall asleep on you
John:
-Ok Johnny boi here? This nerd? He loves to fucking spoon
-Now he doesn’t mind being the little spoon but he will literally wrestle you until you let him be the big spoon
-I don’t think even he knows why he’s so oddly aggressive about being the big spoon
-But when he is the little spoon he’ll play footsies with you subconsciously
-He’s just a really touchy feely guy man, that and he doesn’t like to stay completely still. He finds it unnatural to stay still
-When he’s the big spoon he’ll snuggle right into you and sometimes kiss your shoulder or neck if he’s in an especially romantic mood
Karkat:
-He likes when you’re laying on top of him
-Mostly because he likes how he can see your face and feeling you snuggle into him and try and get comfortable
-He loves feeling you hold onto him and feeling like you trust him
-He also likes that he’s not having to pretend to be tough and angry and that he can allow himself to be vulnerable
-Even though of course typically having to put down defensive walls is terrifying around you he feels that he’s safe to do that
-Not to mention he knows he still has some control over the situation
Terezi:
-Terezi cuddles in pretty much every single way possible
-She just wants to cuddle, she don’t care for no position
-Although her favorite cuddling position it sleep on top of you
-She likes feeling you breath and being able to touch you without even meaning to
-She’ll honestly be such a tease when cuddling but especially in this cuddling position
-She loves hearing you sigh and feeling you try and struggle out of her grip
-But the more you struggle the likelier the chances it is that she’ll tickle you, and if you’re not ticklish then she’d probably relent with a pout and resort to verbally teasing you
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
Imagine: Slowly falling in love with young John Winchester but finding out it isn’t reciprocated. [x]
In truth, you’d never thought you’d tell John how you felt. You knew that nothing would ever come of your confession, so what was the point in telling him? But, John had noticed over the last few weeks that you were acting differently.
And, when he confronted you, you could hide no longer.
“You want to know the truth?” you ask John, shaking your head in disbelief at the situation you had found yourself in.
“Yes! Of course!” John exclaimed as if he was obvious.
“Well, the truth is that I love you! I’ve been falling in love with you since i met you! That’s the truth!”
You didn’t realise how loud you were yelling, or that you had started crying when you had talked. John wanted to hold you, as he usually did when he saw you crying, but he refrained.
“Y/N, I...”
“I know! I know you don’t feel the same; that’s why I didn’t want to tell you.”
John could say nothing. He wanted to comfort you, but he didn’t know how to. After some hesitation, he replied only two words.
