Sherlock fandom
Characters: Sherlock and John
Like a grown child
“God, you act like a child sometimes,” I exclaim looking pointedly at Sherlock.
“You make it sound like something unpleasant, John,” Sherlock pouts. “I thought you loved children.”
Over the last year living with Sherlock Holmes, I’ve learnt to expect the unexpected, but this retort took me by surprise. Was Sherlock implying something, or was it just wishful thinking and imagination on my part? We never talked about children. Why would he think I love them? Searching my brain doesn’t give me any clarity on the matter.
I have been dating on and off since I moved in, but it’s hard to keep me interested nowadays. Sherlock is so much more fun to be around than any of my dates. Besides, I’ve recently realised that I’m desperately in love with the madman. I know it won’t lead to anything, because Sherlock is married to his work, though sometimes I think I’ve spotted some glances that tells me he’s not as aloof as he was in the beginning of our acquaintanceship.
“John?” Sherlock inquires.
I startle when he addresses me, because I’ve been so lost in thought, I’d almost forgotten he’s standing in front of me.
“What were you thinking of, John?” Sherlock murmurs and moves into my personal space.
My cheeks blush and I’m unable to form a coherent sentence. Having him this close to me apparently makes my brain go offline. All I register is the warmth from his body, the exquisite scent of him, his breath on my forehead and then his hand touches my shoulder.
I inhale sharply, close my eyes to revel in this cocoon-like encounter.
“Look at me,” he whispers and I’m unable to resist.
When I meet his gaze, the child-like behaviour from earlier has vanished. What’s left is a sincere look and a warmth I’ve never seen before. I raise my hand to cup his cheek and he leans into my touch, closes his eyes and moans quietly.
The sight is breathtaking and I long to move closer. As if he’s read my mind, he encircles my shoulders and pulls me to him. His eyes scan my face and what he finds must please him if his genuine smile is any indicator.
“I want to kiss you,” I tell him in the softest voice I know.
“Please, John.”
The way he says my name, makes my heart flutter. It feels like the most precious thing.
My fingers caress his nape, he lowers his head, and our lips meet. His plush lips are delicious under mine. I let my other hand card through the luxuriant curls, and it doesn’t take a consulting detective to realise that he enjoys that immensely.
When we part, Sherlock looks dazed and is reluctant to let me go.
His inner child has once again emerged, I think to myself.
It’s my turn to scan his face for any foul play. Has he distracted me from…I can’t seem to remember what I was so agitated about now that I have the gorgeous man in my arms.
“You’ve put a spell on me, haven’t you?” I murmur and claim Sherlock’s lips again, not caring a fig about how I yield to him.
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A Supernatural Meeting at 221c Baker Street
Sam and Dean Winchester x little sister!reader, Sherlock and John x reader (platonic)
Requested by Anonymous
Synopsis: you go to university in London, and make some interesting friends.
“So, this is the place,” Dean glanced around your small apartment with an appraising look.
“Yes, and it’s perfectly safe,” you scoffed. “No mold, no holes, no-“
The sudden crack of gunfire had both your brothers on high alert, but you just rolled your eyes.
“Excuse me,” you huffed, heading out your door and towards your neighbors, 221B Baker Street. Your brothers followed close on your heels.
“What the heck was that?” Sam demanded, and you waved him off.
“Nothing, I’ll take care of it,” you knocked on the door, and within seconds Mrs. Hudson was at the door, waving her hands frantically.
“Oh he’s shooting again, and John is out doing the shopping, will you please talk to him?”
“Of course Mrs. Hudson. These are my brothers, Sam and Dean, they’re going to stay down here with you while I talk to Sherlock, if that’s ok.”
Mrs. Hudson opened her mouth to reply, but Dean beat her to it.
“Like crap we are. You’re not confronting some crazy shooter alone.”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” you sighed. “Sherlock’s not dangerous, he’s just an imbecile.” You headed up the stairs towards Sherlock’s door, and despite your protests, your brothers followed.
You didn’t bother knocking as you shoved the door open, and Sherlock’s head jerked up in surprise, his gun hanging loosely from his hand.
“What are you-“
“Sherlock Holmes,” you glared at the man, marching up to him and holding out your hand for the gun. When he didn’t move, you snatched it out of his hands, despite his whining protests. “You’ve given poor Mrs. Hudson a heart attack, and you’re going to destroy the wall!”
“The wall is fine,” Sherlock growled.
“You’re behaving like a petulant two-year-old. You don’t have a case, so you vandalize things? That isn’t ok.”
Sherlock was about to retort, when he finally caught sight of your brothers behind you.
“Ah, Sam and Dean have come to visit.”
Sam and Dean shared a look, and you sighed.
“Sherlock, please don’t.”
“Tell Dean he can relax, the various weapons he’s itching to reach for will undoubtedly bring unwanted attention upon him.”
You glanced at Dean, and sure enough you saw his hand twitching at his side, right next to where you knew a blade was hidden.
“Dean, chill. I told you he’s not dangerous.”
“You think so?” Sherlock looked offended.
“How’d you-“
“Don’t,” you cut off Dean’s question. “Don’t ask, it just encourages him.”
“What’s going on in here?” You turned, a relieved sigh escaping you when you saw John enter the apartment. If anyone could diffuse this awkward situation between your sociopath neighbor and your overprotective brothers, it was John.
“This psychopath is shooting up the apartment,” Dean grumbled.
“High functioning sociopath,” Sherlock retorted.
“And…who are you?” John glanced back and forth between the two intimidatingly tall men in his living room, before he finally spotted you between them. “Ah, Y/N. Wait, are these…” he took another look at the boys, and you smiled.
“Yeah, this is Sam and Dean.”
“Great to meet you,” John stepped forward and shook hands with both of your brothers, who seemed hesitantly pleased at having a normal person in this conversation.
“You seem to know us,” Sam began. “But…who are you?”
“John Watson, and yeah your sister talks about you all the time. Being neighbors, we’ve gotten to know her quiet well,” John smiled at the newcomers, and they finally began to relax—slightly.
“And that guy?” Dean gestured at Sherlock.
“Ah, yes. He lives here too, he’s…different.” John seemed to piece together the last few minutes as he laid eyes on the wall. “Sherlock, the wall, again?”
“It was bothering me,” he grumbled.
“I’m sorry about him,” John sighed, turning his attention once again to the brothers.
“We’re just worried about her,” you cringed at Dean’s words, and John cut in reassuringly.
“He wouldn’t hurt a fly, he’s just a big baby.”
“Yeah I told him that, it just takes a while to sink in,” you glared at Dean when he shoved your shoulder.
“John, the case,” Sherlock suddenly bolted up, and John stared at him.
“How-“
“You’re still out of breath, you rushed up the stairs, and you have the newspaper gripped much too tightly in your hand. Something’s there, something important.”
“It’s…strange,” John admitted, and you didn’t miss the way that Dean straightened.
As John laid the paper out and Sherlock poured over it, Dean and Sam slowly came up behind him, intent on the strange and grisly crime that had just occurred. You felt a smile creep up on your face.
Maybe your crazy new friends and your strange family would get along after all.
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