#protective john watson

[strawberrywinter4]

A Gentleman’s Shrine

Fandom: Sherlock (TV)

Relationship: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson

More under the cut!

Tags: Romance, Slow Burn, Alternative Universe—1920s, Aristocracy, Captain John Watson, Post-World War I, Blood and Violence, PTSD, Period-Typical Homophobia, Explicit Sexual Content, Protective John Watson, BAMF John Watson, Idiots in Love, Falling in Love, Forbidden Love, Age Difference, Case Fic, Some tags not listed

Summary:

Sherlock Holmes has been taught that he has one purpose in life: to carry on the family legacy. “High society is dying,” his mother continuously informs him.

The Great War recently ended, which has left London in a swivel of downfall and success.

Every year when his mother hosts the Noble Legacy Gala, Sherlock wishes he could fall into a rabbit hole and never come up, dreading the pointless event.

That is until he sees Captain Watson attending the Gala, the most beautiful, dangerous, and interesting man he’s ever met.

Read Chapter 1 here!

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Note: Thank you to all who have been so patient to read this. I know I haven’t been active lately, but I promise I’ve been working hard on this, my friends! I hope you all enjoy!

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[ogsherlockholmes]

Seeing fanart of a character being drawn as skinny when they're not supposed to be SKINNY is the most enraging thing ever, especially when said character was only skinny because of a bad period of their life and yes I am talking about my guy Watson who did not suffer during the war and come back to be REHABILLITATED and become HEALTHY by gaining weight he SHOULD NOT have lost just to be drawn looking extra skinny when, in fact, beefcake Watson is the best and healthiest and happiest version of Watson. Holmes and Mrs Hudson would have been going out of their way to make sure that this poor traumatised doctor was being fed, please don't dismiss their good work.

[thinwhitedoc]

SHERLOCK | Martin Freeman as John Watson

[lokijiro]

Sherlock pointing out to John in TGG that caring about people will not help him save them shows how Mycroft has schooled him that caring is not an advantage, but it also shows how the fact that his brother protects and saves countless people by doing his job has had a huge influence on him.

Sherlock has a nature that leads him to help others anyway, but he also tries to emulate his brother whom he admires so much.

[tremendously-crazy]

Relationship envy except I envy the bond between iconic fictional characters Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson

[just-an-enby-lemon]

Unpopular opinion: I don't like how Mycroft Holmes started being portrait as "the british goverment".

ACD Mycroft does work for the goverment and is seem as indispensable but he does not appear to hold the same levels of power and responsability and I think it makes sense. The original and amazingly weird Mycroft is a man that wants to be confortable, alone and doing the least he can. He is not a man for an stressfull demanding work or imensurable responsability.

He admires Sherlock for his energy and proactiviness. In fact while Sherlock points that Mycroft is the smartest Mycroft makes a point to respond "you are more proactive" as both a compliment and a way to say they are both better at different things and in his head at the same level for it. But he himself is absolutly doing the least amount of work he can.

He is not a bad person nor overly selfish he is just lazy. He would not be administrating a whole state when he could be reading a book and sitting silently in company of other associal people.

For me Mycroft is for the goverment what Sherlock is for the police but unlike Lestrade the goverment actually has the authority to give Mycroft a simbolic job with a great payement that actually means "consultant". When the british goverment or at least important key people are in a situation they really cannot figure a solucion for they call Mycroft. Not every goverment calls Mycroft to the same extend or even likes Mycroft but he knows everything about how the public machine works and his solutions saved a lot of people's lifes, money and jobs.

Besides while Mycroft won't do field work and Sherlock will rarely work if asked by actual spies and goverment leaders, Sherlock will pick the work if his brother asks him for.

Basically if I was ever going to do an adaptation I would depict Mycroft (and in a very smaller way Sherlock) as mostly a mix between a consultant and a last resource. When he does work is very secretive crucial and important but most days he can just chill at home or at his club without worries and that's how he likes it.

His paralel to Moriarty is that he could be for the law what Moriarty is for crime but seing himself as unfit and really not having Moriarty's ambitions he choose not to (and maybe that makes him if not smarter wiser). His paralel to Sherlock is them having actualy chosen similar paths but Sherlock who is proactive, more heroic and full of energy (and possibly ADHD) being more detective than consultant (specially after Watson) while Mycroft who is more tired but also calmer and soft is more consultant than goverment.

[croatoancassiel]

protective john watson i ADORE you

[tytoowl]

Dude the Dancing Man part three has left me in a state. I don't know if I am proud of Sherlock or worried for him. Or Both. For those who haven't listened to it yet... Sherlock goes into sicko mode man.

Sherlock went full sicko mode because he forgot John was wearing a bullet proof vest and thought he was dying and the Abe had Shot him.

Sherlock without hesitation is like, I'm going to k*ll you because you hurt my Best friend.

Starts choking a dying man cause he wants revenge.

John like hey I'm good man, he is definitely dying just lett him go. Sherlock listens and reluctantly lets him go but not before telling Abe the reality to personally upset him and hurt him.

He sings creepily as a Abe is dying because he wants him to understand the gravity of the situation and just how much Abe has ruined peoples lives by singing it to put it in a way Abe's delusional mind can understand.

I'm here for it, but scared.

[meandhisjohn]

Sherlock. John.

Sherlock and John.

Moodboards.

Happy Monday 💜

@a-victorian-girl @discordantwords @rey-jake-therapist @jobooksncoffee @consultjohnwatson @totallysilvergirl @elldotsee @lisbeth-kk @bewitched-bullet @gaylilsherlock @whatnext2020 @tinchensblog @inevitably-johnlocked

[buckingham-ashtray]

I just want to mention how obvious Dimmock is of a mirror to John.

I'm not even going to talk about how the two of them basically look like replicates of each other:

I'm also not going to talk about how Dimmock‘s attitude toward Sherlock had changed DRASTICALLY (from the annoyance of being bossed around to steadfast loyalty) by the end of the episode:

But rather there is one shot that was framed very interestingly where Sherlock is talking to Dimmock, but instead of focusing on the inspector, he was distinctly cut OUT of the frame, while John was placed directly in front of the camera, talking up half of the screen with the focus on the MIRROR reflection of Sherlock in the back talking to said inspector:

Could this shed another light on Dimmock‘s surprising reappearance in tst except for the apparent repetitive cases?

Absolutely no idea.

All screencaps taken from here.

[strawberrywinter4]

Summary: Recently retired police officer, John Watson, stumbles upon an odd man named Sherlock Holmes when traveling by train on his way home. He concludes the detective is insane after having only one conversation with him, but can't help but be intrigued. Ignoring John's hesitance, Sherlock brings him along on an exciting case. Through this adventure, Sherlock doesn't bother to hide his palpable obsession with John while John tries to hide his growing feelings. What will happen when they both break, following their desires?

Relationship: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson

Tags: Case Fic, Possessive Sherlock Holmes, Obsessive Behavior, Sherlock Holmes is a Bit Not Good, Takes place by the bay in Maine, American!John, Ocean, Small Towns, Alternative Universe-Small Town, Sherlock Holmes loves John Watson, John Watson is oblivious, BAMF John Watson, BAMF Sherlock Holmes, Eventual Happy Ending, Explicit Sexual Content, Love Confessions, Kissing, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Read chapter 1 here.

Spotify Playlist here.

I just made a little something…can’t wait to see where it goes! <3

Tags: @a-victorian-girl @whatnext2020 @totallysilvergirl @ninasnakie @thegildedbee @whodwantmeasaflatmate @with-a-ghost-mr-holmes @sherlocknjohn221b @jawnn-watson @blogstandbygo @lisbeth-kk @holmesianlove @7-percent @itsonlytext @chinike @peanitbear @mary-johnlocked @bakerstreetbe @curlyjohnlock @helloliriels @keirgreeneyes @ceceliajupe @ghostofnuggetspast @dw91165 @jolieblack @cortinita @gwendelaneyisjohnlocked

[kyuriin-chan]

More than a Puzzle | Mycroft Holmes

Chapter 9

Mycroft Holmes x OC

Words: 2.181

Dive into the world of Mina, Mycroft, and all the twists and turns of their journey.

Explore their lives, challenges, and the deep connection that grows between them.

Summary - Chapter-index

It started subtly. A glance that lingered a second too long. A presence felt before it was seen. Mycroft Holmes was always watching. 

At first, it irritated Mina. 

She was an agent trained to be hyper-aware of her surroundings, and the weight of his gaze, the quiet shadow of his presence, put her on edge. It wasn’t that he was obvious—of course he wasn’t. Mycroft Holmes didn’t follow people. He orchestrated situations so that he was always one step ahead, always in control. 

And yet, wherever she went, there he was or at least one of his people. 

A glance across the room as she worked. A passing remark that suggested he knew where she had been, even outside of working hours. A silent but unmistakable shift when someone unfamiliar approached her—his way of ensuring she was never caught off guard. 

It wasn’t just oversight. It was something else. Something more personal. 

And that both infuriated and unnerved her. 

She was supposed to be in control here. She was supposed to be manipulating him. Yet, with every passing day, she felt the walls of her mission closing in, her carefully built resolve beginning to fracture. 

It came to a head one evening when she was walking home. 

The night air was crisp, the streets of London quiet save for the distant hum of traffic. She had left the office later than usual, her mind clouded with thoughts she didn’t want to entertain. And then, as she rounded a familiar corner, she felt it—that unmistakable sensation of being watched. 

Her steps slowed. Her pulse quickened. 

She turned sharply, eyes scanning the dimly lit street. And there, just across the road, stood Mycroft Holmes. 

He was composed as ever, his hands tucked into his coat pockets, his expression unreadable. But he didn’t move. Didn’t look away. 

Mina exhaled sharply, crossing the street with deliberate steps until she stood directly in front of him. “Are you following me?” 

His lips quirked, just slightly. “I wouldn’t call it following.” 

“What would you call it, then?” she challenged. 

His gaze flickered over her face, as if searching for something—perhaps irritation, perhaps something else entirely. “Ensuring your safety.” 

Mina let out a dry laugh. “I can take care of myself, Mycroft.” 

“I don’t doubt that,” he replied smoothly. “But humor me.” 

She folded her arms, studying him in the dim light. “This is getting absurd, you know.” 

“Is it?” 

“Yes. You—hovering, watching, keeping track of my every move.” She shook her head. “It’s unnecessary.” 

He tilted his head slightly. “And yet, you haven’t told me to stop.” 

The words sent a strange shiver down her spine. Because he was right. She should be telling him to stop. She should be furious that he was making her his concern. 

But instead, she was standing here, in the cold night air, and realizing that she didn’t mind. 

That, in some small, terrifying way… she liked it. 

She sighed, rubbing a hand over her temple. “You’re impossible, you know that?” 

Mycroft’s lips twitched into the faintest semblance of a smile. “I’ve been told.” 

Mina exhaled, shaking her head. “Fine. Walk me home, then. Since you’re so determined to ensure my well-being.” 

His response was instant. “Of course.” 

And as they fell into step beside each other, she knew—truly knew—that she was in trouble. 

Because her mission, the lies she was meant to uphold, the distance she was supposed to maintain… it was all slipping away. 

The quiet click of her heels against the pavement filled the space between them as they walked. Mycroft kept an even pace beside her, his presence steady, constant. Mina had always prided herself on her independence, on her ability to navigate the world alone. And yet, for the first time, she didn’t mind the company. 

It should have alarmed her. 

She should have been analyzing his behavior, picking apart his motivations, reminding herself of the mission. But all she could focus on was the warmth of his presence beside her, the way the night air seemed less cold with him there. 

They walked in silence for a while, neither feeling the need to speak. It was an unusual kind of quiet—one that felt almost comfortable. 

Eventually, it was Mycroft who broke it. 

“You’re restless,” he observed, his voice low. 

Mina glanced at him, arching a brow. “And you determined that from what? My breathing pattern?” 

His lips twitched. “Among other things.” 

She sighed, glancing up at the dark sky. “It’s been a long few weeks.” 

“That much is obvious.” His tone was unreadable. “Is it because of Sherlock’s case? Or something else?” 

Mina hesitated. That was the question, wasn’t it? She had been telling herself that her exhaustion, her distraction, was due to the case she had been working on with Sherlock and John. But deep down, she knew the truth. 

It wasn’t the case. 

It was him.

It was the way Mycroft had started watching her differently. The way his distance had vanished, replaced by something far more dangerous. The way she had started craving his presence even when she knew she shouldn’t. 

She exhaled slowly. “I think I just need a break from—” She stopped herself before saying this mission, this lie. Instead, she said, “—from everything.” 

Mycroft hummed in understanding. “Perhaps you should take one, then.” 

She let out a quiet laugh. “And leave you to fend for yourself? That would be a disaster.” 

His gaze flickered toward her. “You assume I can’t function without you?” 

She smirked. “You said it, not me.” 

His expression remained impassive, but she caught the way his fingers flexed at his sides, as if resisting the urge to reach for her. 

Mina swallowed hard. She needed to change the subject before she did something reckless. “Why are you really doing this?” she asked, glancing at him. “Walking me home?” 

Mycroft didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he studied her for a moment, as if debating how much to say. 

Finally, he spoke. 

“Because I find myself unable to do otherwise.” 

The words settled between them like a weight, pressing against the fragile line they had been balancing on. 

Mina’s breath hitched slightly, and she looked away, focusing on the street ahead. 

This was dangerous. Too dangerous.

She was supposed to be playing him, not the other way around. She was supposed to be leading him into false trails, gathering information, completing her mission. 

But now, she wasn’t sure where the mission ended and where she began. 

Her flat came into view, and relief and disappointment warred within her. 

“Well,” she said, stopping at her doorstep. “You’ve successfully ensured my safe arrival. Your duty is fulfilled.” 

Mycroft studied her, his expression unreadable. He didn’t move to leave. 

Instead, he said, “Mina.” 

Just her name. No title. No formal address. Just Mina.

She felt it like a physical touch.   

Mina stood at her doorstep, her fingers resting lightly on the key in the lock, but she didn’t turn it. 

Mycroft hadn’t moved yet. He stood just a step away, watching her with that unreadable gaze of his—calm, composed, yet something simmered beneath the surface. 

She should go inside. She should walk away. 

But she didn’t. 

Instead, she turned back to him, her heart pounding in a way she didn’t want to acknowledge. Mycroft Holmes was not a man easily shaken. He was a force, unwavering and unmovable. And yet, when her eyes met his, she saw something unexpected. Something hesitant. 

And that was what made her do it. 

Before she could second-guess herself, Mina stepped forward, closing the distance between them. Her hand reached out, resting lightly against the fabric of his coat, as if testing how real this moment was. 

“Mycroft,” she murmured. 

She saw the way his breath hitched—so subtle, so restrained, but she felt it. 

Then, with deliberate slowness, she leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. 

The kiss lingered for a moment longer than she’d expected, and she felt the shift in the air around them. Mycroft didn’t pull away. Instead, he leaned into the kiss, his lips responding to hers with a gentleness that seemed foreign for the man who so often exuded control. 

It was almost as though he had been waiting for this moment—waiting for her. 

The sensation was electrifying, soft yet intense. His presence enveloped her, and for just a brief instant, everything else fell away. All the tension, the confusion, the mission, the lies—everything faded into the background, leaving only the quiet warmth of his touch. 

She could feel him, a man who usually guarded every emotion, every reaction, slowly melting beneath her. His hand, which had been at his side, finally moved, resting on her waist, his fingers pressing lightly into the fabric of her coat. 

Mina didn’t pull away. She didn’t want to. 

The kiss deepened—slowly, carefully—as if neither of them were sure they were allowed to give in fully to it. But they did. 

Mycroft’s kiss was not one of haste or passion. It was an exploration, a careful unraveling of all the things he had been too afraid to show. Every moment felt like a confession, every brush of his lips against hers a quiet surrender of everything he’d held back for so long. 

For the first time in ages, Mycroft Holmes wasn’t thinking about the next step, the next move. He wasn’t calculating anything. He was simply here, with her. 

Mina felt her heart race as the kiss continued, the warmth of his touch and the depth of the moment sinking into her chest. She knew that, once this ended, everything would change. There would be no going back. 

But right now, in this fragile moment, she couldn’t bring herself to care. 

Finally, with a slow, reluctant pull, they broke apart, their foreheads resting together, breathing in sync.  

She looked up at him, a small genuine smile gracing her lips. “Thank you… for walking me home.” 

For a long moment, Mycroft said nothing. His gaze was locked on hers, his expression unreadable. But she could see it—the crack in his carefully constructed walls. The way his fingers twitched, as if resisting the urge to pull her back in. 

Then, with a slow breath, he turned and walked away, his silhouette disappearing into the shadows of the London night.

Mina stood there for a long while, her fingers still tingling from the contact, her heart a jumble of conflicting emotions. She wasn’t sure what the future held, and for the first time in ages, she wasn’t sure she cared.

She sat at her desk, the glow of her laptop screen illuminating the dimly lit room. The familiar blank report document was open before her, waiting to be filled with every detail of her mission—every movement, every conversation, every strategic decision Mycroft had made. 

Normally, this was routine. Writing reports was second nature to her. She had been trained to be precise, objective, and thorough. But tonight was different. 

She hesitated. 

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, yet she couldn’t bring herself to type the words she knew were expected of her. The agency wanted details, facts, things they could use. And yet, as she thought about Mycroft—his intelligence, his careful calculations, his ability to see through every lie—something inside her wavered. 

She couldn’t bring herself to scrutinize him in the cold, detached manner her reports usually required. 

Slowly, she began typing, but without realizing it, her tone softened. She reported events, yes, but carefully omitted any weaknesses, any vulnerabilities that could be used against him. She framed his decisions in a way that emphasized his strengths rather than exposing any possible flaws. She detailed his efficiency, his command over his work, his unwavering dedication to the government. 

But what she left out was just as important. 

She didn’t write about the moments when his eyes betrayed exhaustion, or the rare instances where she saw past his cold exterior to the man beneath. She didn’t report how he had started trusting her, how he had let her in just a little bit. And she certainly didn’t write about the way he had walked her home tonight, how his presence made her feel something unfamiliar, something dangerous. 

Her fingers paused on the keyboard, her heart beating a little faster as she read over her words. 

She was protecting him. 

Not because she had to, but because she wanted to. Because deep down, she knew she had already chosen a side. And it wasn’t just her agency’s anymore. 

With a quiet breath, she saved the document and shut her laptop. 

Tonight, for the first time, Mina Calder wasn’t just an agent writing a report. She was something more. And Mycroft Holmes was no longer just a subject of observation—he was someone she refused to betray.

Feel free to leave a heart and comment if you liked this chapter and my story so far 🫶🏻

I'm always happy to receive some honest feedback :)

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[brilliantorinsane]

It just occurred to me:

In Pennsylvania Gun Morrel and his partner tamper with evidence because they're convinced that if they tell the police the truth, the partner will be wrongly accused of murder. Holmes exhibits a decided affinity for Morrel.

In Texas Cowgirl, the episode immediately following, Holmes tampers with evidence because he and his client are convinced that if they tell the police the truth, the client will be wrongly accused of murder. Perhaps he learned something from his crime buddy!

[lokijiro]

Every time Sherlock had illegally acquired a gun, Mycroft had confiscated it, so he is rather surprised when his brother does nothing about John’s gun.

[medhes]

Sherlock always indulges John.

Even when Sherlock has already solved the case of who killed Connie Prince, he takes a break from getting ahead of Moriarty to rush to a photography store so he can play his part assisting John and his mediocre deduction skills. He just likes having a friend to play with.

[gregorovitch-adler]

Clock

John stifled a yawn with the back of his hand as he checked the time on the classroom clock. Half past twelve. Fifteen more minutes of this dreadful lecture till the afternoon break.

The topic going on in the class was not so hard, besides Year 13 meant you had to cover up most of the topics on your own, anyway. John could not bring himself to listen to the lecture today.

John looked around at the other students instead. To be honest, he was looking for one specific person in that room.

There he was. Sitting in the last row, but paying full attention - staring at the teacher like a hawk. John had been admiring this guy's looks - dense, black curls; sea-green eyes, and those sharp cheekbones - and his intelligence for quite some time.

The name was Sherlock Holmes.

John had not stopped thinking about that bloke ever since he'd guessed some other student's personal life correctly in an attempt to tell them off. Deduction, as he would rather call it.

He had been trying to get to know Sherlock in person and to talk to him properly - instead of just nodding in his direction as a greeting like he used to do, every morning.

John was not sure what he would even talk about. Sherlock seemed so closed off, heading straight to the library during the afternoon break every day. John did not want to make an arse of himself trying to talk to him.

He realised he was staring, so he looked away quickly and pretended to pay attention again.

After a few minutes, the bell rang, followed by the teacher muttering some words to the TA before leaving the class.

The class began to chatter, as everyone slowly made their way to leave.

Suddenly, someone across the room turned around to face Sherlock in the last row. "Hey, Holmes!"

Sherlock looked up from his book at that guy.

"Nobody gives a shit about your Tobacco ash list," he said, and his friends burst out laughing. "Seriously, quit blogging. Your website is embarrassing enough already." Another fit of laughter from his group.

John furrowed his brows and clenched his fist on his left side. Strange that he did not know much about Sherlock, but felt like standing up for him anyway.

"At least I don't have to juggle three girlfriends every single day."

A complete silence erupted among that friend group.

"What's he talking about?" asked a girl from the group to that arse. Probably one of the girlfriends.

He ignored her as he marched his way to the last row to approach Sherlock. "Say that again." The guy slammed his massive fists on the desk.

John turned around and went to that row too.

"I think he was loud and clear the first time," said John as he stood beside Sherlock, staring daggers at the other guy.

"Oh, so the fake genius has got himself a pet!" the bloke exclaimed and walked up close to John, practically towering over him.

John was waiting for one move from the side of that guy. Just one. This would all be over in a minute.

"I haven't," said Sherlock and walked close to the guy, invading his personal space. "Though I would think twice before doing anything I regret if I were you." His low voice had dropped even more to a dangerous tone. "Especially if I were sleeping with one of the teachers for a better score like you are, currently."

This made the guy back off. "You didn't - you can't possibly know that!"

"You didn't even bother changing your perfume," said Sherlock and brushed past that guy, his long legs taking him to the classroom door swiftly. He stopped short in the doorway and turned around to look at John with his eyebrows raised.

John quickly collected his things and left the room; ignoring the other guy and leaving him behind.

Sherlock and John walked out of the class, and John tried to suppress a smile.

"Where are we going?" John asked, trying to match Sherlock's pace.

"I am going to the library."

"I can join you."

"Why?"

"You can tell me about the Tobacco ash."

Sherlock stopped in the tracks to face John properly. John had slowed down as well.

Sherlock gave John an intense look as if trying to look into his soul.

John was physically unable to look away.

"In that case, I expect you to listen to every single thing I have to say. Try to react properly instead of just staring at me." The corner of his heart-shaped mouth quirked up.

John cleared his throat and nodded before looking away for a moment. "Let's go, shall we? We don't have much time."

"Come on, then," said Sherlock, and they began to walk again in the direction of the library.

Not sure why, but John felt as if his day had become at least a hundred times better.

***

Sherlock September Challenge.

Prompt Clock by @onesmallfamily

Tags: @helloliriels @topsyturvy-turtely @keirgreeneyes @lisbeth-kk @gaylilsherlock @missdeliadili @curlyjohnlock @lookingforlifeoutthere @calaisreno @a-victorian-girl @peanitbear .