#//also I will never not love Hamish Watson FREE WITH HIS BODY Holmes

[i-am-hamishwatsonholmes]

@gunmetalgrey​

cont’d from here

He looked broken.

Even in the dim light coming from the hall she could see that much.

Seven years ago, she would have demanded to know who did this to him. Maybe two or three years ago, she would have called him an idiot. It didn’t really matter either way. Without a word, Alex wrapped her arms around Hamish, gently in case there was any further damage below his shirt. He still dwarfed her. If she could reach, she would have kissed his forehead but she settled for this instead.

They didn’t have to be together for Alex to need him safe, home, taken care of. Whatever had gone on, and she hated to let her mind whir that way, it was over now.

   “ It’s okay. I’ve got a freezer full of ice, looks like you’re going to need it.”

Married or not, this would always be the place he could find safety. Starting out in her messy flat, drinking to the small hours, playing vinyl albums back to back. And now learning to find a way to be friends, to settle into adulthood.

His clothes were soaked through, and she was starting to shiver just holding him.

  “ C’mon. I’m sure I’ve got some of your old shirts lying around. Let me take a look at you, yeah?”

“Thank you...”

Hers was the only place he could have gone to. Not only because everyone else would have thrown a fit and demanded answers as soon as they’d seen him like this on their doorstep. Not only because he didn’t want anyone else to know. Most of all, it was because no one else made him feel as safe as she did. Even after everything they’d been through. 

After all this time apart. 

He held back tears as she wrapped her arms around him, feeling as though he’d been holding his breath until this very moment, and was finally able to melt away into her embrace. 

Swallowing hard, he attempted a brave face for only a moment when she eventually pulled away, before quickly deciding there was no point. Not with her. She could read him like an open book anyway, and they had both seen each other at their lowest. She was one of the only people he felt no shame in being vulnerable around, even after their split.

Offering her a faint but genuine smile instead, he hoped she knew how grateful he was as he followed her inside. 

“Finn’s with Nan. Shopping weekend in Stockholm...” He eventually said, knowing that out of all the questions she was likely burning with, whether or not their daughter was safe was the most important one. Secondly, her own safety.

“No one knows I’m here, made sure of that.”

#//gifs are still frozen whyyyyy #//also bleeeeessss #//sorry for taking a year to come back again I'VE MISSED YOU #//also I will never not love Hamish Watson FREE WITH HIS BODY Holmes #//just casually taking off his clothes as soon as he's through the door #//not even like I dunno #//wait for her to find some dry ones #//nah #//zero shame #v; happier times #//also I haven't fully decided what happened but I'm thinking along the lines of someone he put in prison coming back or or something #//maybe a failed hit #//I am open to ideas if you have any!! #Gunmetalgrey

[magicalthoughtsendinterriblefics]

Confessions to a Consultant Detective - Request

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.

“I’d love to.”

*Requests are ALWAYS open.*

Tags: @deanwssister

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