Johnlock Fluff (mostly) Oneshots

Cherophobia

Hey yall I'm back and feeling better. This idea is an... interesting one to say the least. Last night I woke up at 3am with a story idea and wrote it in Samsung Notes and I have no memory of it but this is what I wrote - "Cherophobia story where Sherlock us conaedsed about why John's said and it tyrns out he has cherpidbias lien me". That is the exact spelling I have for it so yeah. I managed to figure out I meant "Cherophobia story where Sherlock is confused (I think) about why John's sad and it turns out he has cherophobia like me" and I thought I'd write it because why not. Basically, if you don't know, cherophobia is the fear of being too happy and yes it is a real phobia despite people telling me it isn't real. I'm gonna write this from how it impacts me. (Sorry that was such a long A/N)

John's POV

Everything was going well in my life for once. Sherlock and I were together and happy and there were plenty of murders to keep Sherlock happy. Things were going well and I was elated.

Until I wasn't.

Whenever I'm happy, there's always the fear that something is going to go wrong. That something bad is going to happen while I'm happy and it will ruin everything. This fear is completely irrational but can also ruin things. 

My phobia had always prevented me from partaking in "fun" activities which always confused other people (okay I know he doesn't in the show but I'm basing this off of me). Whenever Molly or Lestrade or anyone else would invite me to something like a party then I would refuse which would often upset them because I wouldn't give a reason. I never told anyone about why I refused. 

Luckily, Sherlock never wanted to go either so I never had to go.

One day, a few days before New Year, Molly invited me to her party for the third year in a row and for the third year in a row, I refused. 

"Y'know, John, I'm having a New Year's Party soon and I was wondering if you and Sherlock would like to come?" She asked hopefully. I sighed, feeling the anxiety rising in my chest. "Dammit" I thought to myself. "Where's Sherlock so he can decline?" But Sherlock wasn't there. 

"I'm sorry, Molly. I don't think I'll be able to make it" I replied as politely as I could. She rolled her eyes. 

"Why do you always decline?" She yelled angrily. "Why do you always ask if you know I'm going to decline?" I thought to myself but I didn't say anything out loud, I just stared at the floor. 

Molly continued to yell at me about how horrible I was to her and how I never wanted to spend time with her outside of the morgue and how it wasn't fair. She continued this for another 5 minutes until Sherlock came back into the room. 

"Molly, why were you shouting at John?" Sherlock asked, though I'm pretty sure he had heard every word she said. The yelling had been really rather loud. 

"Nothing, it was nothing. He just nearly messed something up, that's all" She lied.

"Oh please, you were yelling so loudly I'm pretty sure everyone in the hospital heard you. If I heard correctly, which I'm positive I did, I'm hardly ever wrong, then you were shouting at John for being a horrible friend because he never accepts you invitations to various parties which you invite him to."

"Well it is a little impolite to decline ever-"

"Yet whenever I decline, you never shout at me"

"That's because you have a reason for not showing up"

"We all have our reasons, Molly, and we all have our secrets. You have no way of telling if John has a reason to decline or not." Sherlock snapped at her. He looked towards me. "I'm done here, we can go" He said and I nodded.