Sherlock Imagines & One-Shots

Knit-Jumpers (John)

You smiled as Sherlock waltzed out of the flat with John behind him rushing to keep up, glad to have Sherlock out of the house with a case to keep him busy and distracted from shooting the walls.

'Finally some time to myself' you thought letting out a content sigh. You took a long shower and pulled on some fresh clothes before gathering some ingredients and flipping on your music.

Time to let loose.

~~~~ Short time skip to a little while later brought to you by Dr. McCoy's Tricorder~~~

John's POV-

John hesitated at the door to 221B noticing the pulsating rhythms that came from behind it. The music was set as loud as it could be without alerting or bothering Mrs. Hudson, which given the separation of floors and multiple walls, was quite loud.

He sighed, knowing that you were probably relishing the only alone time you had gotten since you started crashing on their couch a month ago, before quietly opening the door and venturing inside.

Cause she's fine
But for an angel, she's a hot, hot mess
Make you so blind
But you don't mind

He followed to source of the music to the kitchen and his breath caught when you finally came into view. You hadn't noticed the door slam downstairs, the angry footsteps that had followed, or even the apartment door opening like you usually did. You were lost in your own little world.

Cause she's an uptown, get-around, anything-goes girl
She's a hardcore, candy-store, give-me-some-more girl

Your back was to him and you swished your hips in time to the music as you stirred the bowl of batter you held in the crook of your arm. He took a few steps back from the doorway, wanting to watch you a little longer before he announced his presence.

He noted that you had changed since they had left you, a pair of black skinny jeans and one of his knit jumpers with the sleeves pushed up wrapped around your slender form leaving your forearms and feet bare. Your dark hair was left curly for once, as you hadn't taken the time to dry it and tame it straight, and it fell messily to just below your jawline.

He couldn't help but smile at the thought of how much he liked the look of his jumper on you, it was just big enough to look like it belonged to someone else but not so big it dwarfed you.

He shook his head silently thanking the higher power that had allowed Sherlock to break the air system with one of his "experiments" the day before, causing it to spit out frigidly cold air.

You had begged Sherlock to lend you something warm, as you weren't prepared for the cold, but your difficult older brother had simply said "Go ask Watson."

He had happily lent you a soft, oatmeal colored jumper after assuring you that it was no trouble at all.

Movement in the kitchen pulled him from his thoughts and he took a step forward to watch you swish over to the sink happily humming along.

She's got a wicked sense of humor, can't believe what she says
She drinks Bacardi in the morning till it goes to her head
And all you want is just to hold her, but she don't go for that

Your POV-

You moved to the sink to add some water to your batter, giving your hips a little shake as you went along. You hummed contently then brought your chin to your chest so you could bury your nose into the front of Watson's jumper.

It smelled like him- a mixture of antiseptic, cinnamon, and just a hint of vanilla- and you couldn't help but enjoy it. Smiling shyly at the thought of the kind doctor, you turned round to unexpectedly find him in the kitchen doorway.

The bowl escaped your hands and clattered to the floor in your shock and your face went a deep shade of red. How much had he seen? Mentally face-palming yourself for not keeping your senses sharp, you flipped off the music and busied yourself with the mess on the floor.

"Sorry (F/n), I didn't mean to startle you." he managed blushing deeply himself, not that you noticed, your focus on the spilt mess on the floor.

"Of course you didn't Watson." you stated, regaining your composure before leaning back on your heels to look up at him, "I should have guessed you'd end up back here. You and Sherlock had a row in the street."

He nodded. Though from your tone it hadn't been a question.

You sighed making a note to scold the cheeky bastard for it later, "I apologize on his behalf."

"No need. I'd much rather be here with you anyways." John said offering his hand.

You took it, giving him a confused expression as he hoisted you up.

John's eyes widened, "I-I mean, you know opposed to out with Sherlock and his attitude. Not that- I mea – you know-"

You chuckled giving his hand a tight squeeze, "I know John. It's quite alright."

He set his mouth in a tight line and furrowed his brows as you went to rinse your hands. He moved in behind you, deep in thought- Why didn't he just tell you? I mean Sherlock would likely kill you both but it was probably better than what ever this was. And then there was Mycroft. Then again you seemed to be able to sooth both your brothers easily or if that didn't work you could just use that tone that seemed to scare the wits out of both of them. You probably knew anyways, you were a Holmes after all...

His thoughts were abruptly interrupted when you turned and, not realizing his proximity, ran into him. You both flushed red and you mumbled, "Sorry," lifting your chin to look up into his stormy sky blue eyes.

That clinched it, without even thinking he swiftly cupped your face in his hands and leaned forward to press his lips gently against yours. He pulled away after only a few seconds, his eyes searching your face for a reaction.

After a moment you smiled shyly, winding your fingers around the edge of his jacket and gently pulling him in for a proper kiss.

'Looks like you would be wearing a lot more of his jumpers,' you both thought simultaneously, as you smiled into the kiss and he happily wrapped his arms around your waist.

Credit:TheBeeThatHums