literature

A Second Chance- Mycroft x Reader x John Chapt. 1

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You followed John up the stairs to 221B, knowing he thought you were a client but not particularly caring. He opened the door for you and you smiled, such a gentleman Sherlock’s new flatmate was, kind of adorable too… like a little distraught hedgehog.

You waltzed into the flat while John announced, “Sherlock we have a client.”

As he said it there was a little poof and some colored smoke seeped out of the kitchen so you went to lean on the doorframe with a small grin. Sherlock had his back to you and some safety goggles on his face as he held up a beaker to examine its contents, having completely tuned out John who was now apologizing to you.

You let out a distinctive tinkling laugh, clear and melodious like a bell, “You haven’t changed a bit, Sherlock Holmes.”

You could see a small smile tug at his lips as he recognized both your laugh and your voice, not looking from his work to answer, “Where exactly have you been? Mother was worried.”

“Bugger. I forgot to tell her that I was moving didn’t I?” you gasped.

Sherlock flatly answered, “You did.”

You frowned, “Do you think she’ll forgive me.”

He gave a slight smirk, “Of course. Mycroft probably won’t though.”

You stuck out your tongue, “Why should I care? I hardly know him and from what you tell me he’s still ghastly.”

“That’s why.” Sherlock answered when your phone rang.

You answered it, turning away from Sherlock to grin at a very confused John, “Hello Mycroft.”

“So Sherlock has just informed me. I’m terribly sorry,” you stated, quickly swapping your grin for a frown.

You gaped at his next statement, or rather demand, “I just got here Mycroft. I can’t- Fine but for her and not for you.”

Quickly shaking your head, you lied, “They have a case…Yeah. Just got it while I was here. Triple murder… all right, goodbye Mycroft.”

You huffed as you hung up and then, not turning to look at him, casually offered, “Wrong vial, Sherly.”

Sherlock had grabbed a vial without looking just moments before and now set it down to pick up the one next to it, “Just testing you.”

You scoffed, “Of course.”

“Did he buy it?”

You sighed, “Not in the slightest… Dr. Watson, I suggest you go pack.”

“What? Why? I don’t understand… Who are you exactly?”

You gave him a mischievous grin, “I’m Sherlock’s sister, (F/n).”

John looked between the two of you, “I thought…”

“Adoptive sister.” Sherlock interjected matter-of-factly and you threw a nearby ball of paper at his head, “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“I haven’t entirely decided that it isn’t.”

You stuck out your tongue at him and John chuckled, you certainly fought like siblings. You spun to face him again, “Go pack for three days at the least.”

John decided not to question it and went to do as you asked, leaving you and Sherlock alone. You knew he was avoiding looking at you because he wasn’t sure if he’d like what he would read from you, so you took the moment to look him over. He really hadn’t changed much in the six years you’d been gone, he was thinner and looked happier but other than that pretty much the same.

Walking over to put a hand on his shoulder, you tip-toed and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “You are still far too tall.”

There was a hint of a smile on his face even though his expression was that displeasure over your display of affection, “Quite the contrary, It is you that is far too short.”

You laughed before both your phones announced that they had a text and you flipped yours open as he asked, “How long?”

“An hour at King’s Cross,” you sighed, frustration coloring your voice 

He stopped what he was doing and frowned at his unfinished work so you offered, “Go. I’ll finish here.”

He handed you what he was working on without hesitation and pulled the goggles off his face to put them on yours before bounding off to pack a bag, leaving you to complete his work. When John came out of his room a moment later with his bag he was surprised to see you standing where Sherlock had been, quickly mixing vials and recording the results on a nearby pad. You may not be a Holmes but you were certainly just as smart as one, with the added benefit that you viewed life much differently than your adoptive brothers.

You finished just as Sherlock came out of his room, pulling off the goggles and placing them on the table before swiftly pressing caps to any remaining vials that needed them. Sherlock was out the door before you could finish and you grinned at John as you scooped up your bag, “Come along, Watson. He’s waiting.”
Edit: NVM GUYS I DECIDED.


Ok guys. I know I've got quite a bit going on on here right now... but I wanted to test the waters with this fic seeing as I just randomly wrote almost seventeen pages of it while trying to work on Observers. It was intended to be a Mycroft x Reader but I'm finding it's become a Mycroft x Reader x John... Would you want to see that? Should I keep it a Mycroft x Reader instead? It's not to late to edit it a bit. TELL ME.

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gemmasilver's avatar
I love my Mycroft but I also love my little precious hedgehog Jawn D: