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Only you can ease my painJohn winched and gasped as yet another sharp stab of pain pierced his shoulder, centering in his old wound from Afghanistan. Though it was nothing unusual at this time of year for his shoulder to act up (the cold weather always made it stiff and aching) it was still a painful and dreaded experience each time. The pain was often accompanied by small yet rough and ruthless flashbacks from that ill-fated day he had received the wound, the day he and his entire team had been ambushed and he, despite his greatest efforts, had lost three men at his own handsOnly you can ease my pain3 years ago in Romance More Like This
Another wave of hot white pain hit the doctor. The hand, currently grasping his bare, left shoulder in a desperately tight grip tightened, if possible, even further and John couldn't help letting of a small cry of pain this time around. Normally these painful incidents didn't last long enough to grow this painful, normally a pair of long pale hands would come to his rescue and, without him even asking, gently massage and kneed his tense
The Thing about Husbands...BBC SherlockThe Thing about Husbands...3 years ago in Humor More Like This
A Johnlock fan fiction
The Thing about Husbands
Frankly, Sherlock never would have dreamed of taking this case had it not been a personal request from Mrs. Hudson. He just couldn't say no to that sweet old face and the whole thing honestly sounded like a case better suited for Mycroft, but since Mrs. Hudson's niece was involved, Sherlock thought he'd better take a look.
He remembered something about treasure hunting ex-husbands and pirates in Cuba and cryptic letters but he mostly hadn't been listening when Mrs. Hudson detailed the situation. That's why he had John. John was his ears.
He was bored the whole way through London to Lorraine Hudson's flat. In the cab he had heard the sound of John talking, but again, he wasn't listening. His nose was shoved in his phone asking Lestrade if he had anything interesting that he was too stupid to figure out on his own.
Iced Mint"John? What do I smell like?" They were both lying face up on John's bed, with Sherlock's head nestled between John's neck, and John's right arm resting against Sherlock's chest.Iced Mint3 years ago in Romance More Like This
"Icy." It was the first word that popped into his mind. "You always smell clean. Hang on." John sat up and rolled over so that he was on top of Sherlock, and he nuzzled his neck, taking in a deep breath and Sherlock gave a few small but deep laughs at the sensation.
"Mmmm…" John sighed out in delight. He took in another breath and smiled. He loved that smell–it was unlike anything he'd ever smelled, and he had never really truly understood the meaning of "intoxicating" until he had smelled Sherlock. Come to think of it, there were a lot of things he found intoxicating about Sherlock Holmes. The way his body seemed to be sculpted of marble. His black as night hair that always had a few perfectly formed ringlets. His iridescent eyes. The way his voice deepened when he wanted something. The
Sentiment - A Duet for Clarinet and Violin1stMovementSentiment - A Duet for Clarinet and Violin2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Dolce con duolo
“Thank you for coming by, John.” Clara sent him a sad little smile. John returned it as warmly as he could.
“Not at all. Thank you for storing my stuff all these years. I mean, I know I should have done something about it sooner but between the army and everything...”
She followed him to the stairs to the attic. “It's quite alright, we had the room for it. But now with the house being sold-” her voice quavered, threatening to break. John wavered, not knowing what to say, but Clara quickly rallied and cleared her throat. “Anything you want to get rid of, just put it on the couch in the living room. That’s going as well.”
John felt a twinge in his stomach. That couch was the first piece of furniture Harry and Clara had bought together. He supposed it was symbolic that Clara was throwing it out.
He managed a smile. “Okay. It'll likely be most of the stuff. No idea why I hung on to
Sleep Well"Blast it, Sherlock, turn that damned thing down," hissed John as he stormed down the stairs and into the little living room of the flat he shared with the man in question.Sleep Well3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The telly was on and blaring some crude show with a pair of so-called comedians screaming at the audience. John practically crushed the power button in his frustration, silencing the annoying device. His eyes flicked immediately to the couch, ready to chew that imbecile out for ignoring his right to sleep. However, it was rather to his surprise to see the man in question sprawled out across the couch, fast asleep himself.
John blinked for a moment. It was weird seeing Sherlock like this.
He crept close feeling as if this was something to marvel. Well, it was. He wasn't sure he'd ever actually seen the man sleep before. Of course, it also had a lot to do with the fact that they slept on different floors, in different rooms. But the man John knew was always so wound up that sleeping, like eating and bathing
Sherlock and Moriarty watch crap TellySherlock and Moriarty watch crap Telly3 years ago in Comedy More Like This
Sherlock and Moriarty watch crap telly
"Stockholm syndrome, that's why" stated Moriarty flatly. He let his legs dangle over the couch arm and leaned into Sherlock, who was sitting with his knees up to his chin and hands wrapped around his legs. "She didn't know she was kidnapped, so that doesn't apply." Sherlock rolled his eyes and huffed.
"It's textbook Sherlock, whether she knows she was kidnapped or not is irrelevant, she has all the symptoms. Don't be boring." Moriarty leaned back and let the back of his head rest on Sherlock's boney shoulder.
"You just won't admit you're wrong, name calling will get you nowhere."
"Johns home." Moriarty stated without taking his eyes off the telly.
John came stomping up the stairs and flung open the door. "Sherlock I swear this better be an emergency you can't keep-" John stumbled back at the sight in front of him. Sherlock and Moriarty were on the sofa (neither bothered to even look up as John entered) with the telly moved to the c
Watson LockedJohn looked so cute. So peaceful as he slept, his arms crossed over his stomach, his mouth opened just slightly ajar, his breathing deep and gentle, one in a while swallowing and taking a deep, long breath. Sherlock never knew someone could look so at peace. He almost had second thoughts of waking the peaceful solider. But yet, he needed him... Needed to hear him speak, needed to have him hold him, needed to have John's warm lips brush his forehead with a kiss.Watson Locked3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Slowly, Sherlock entered the room.
"John?" He asked softly, still unsure about waking him. "John?" He asked a little louder.
He knew John was a heavy sleeper... But still. He walked over and sat down on the edge of John's bed. As he breathed, he smelled John. Just the light smell in the atmosphere that reminded Sherlock of vanilla and tangerines. He adored that intoxicating smell that was, and always will be, John Watson. -His- John Watson.
He brushed John's soft cheek with his finger and smiled. John's eyes slowly fluttered ope
From Flatmate to FianceOh my God, I’m his wife.From Flatmate to Fiance3 years ago in Romance More Like This
John lay dumbfounded, trapped under the weight of Sherlock’s limp limbs, staring at Sherlock’s face still smooshed into the pillow next to him after having poked him several times to remind him the alarm had gone off and they wouldn’t have time for breakfast. The morning light was glowing on his white skin making this mad-devil look positively angelic in his peaceful slumber.
It had happened so gradually John hadn’t even realized. It began, really, that first night when he’d saved Sherlock’s life. At least that should have been a good foreshadowing of the eventual inevitable. But aside from that, it had been a million simple little things that just happen as you get used to living with someone. The times he’d grabbed Sherlock’s scarf by mistake. The times when one or the other of them had accidentally drank from each other’s
Sherlock's Excuse To Get CuddlesJohn Watson was woken up by someone sliding into his bed with him and wrapping their slender arms around his waist, pressing against his back. At first, he wanted to push away and ask who decided they could get in his bed without his permission. But since he was too tired to do that option, he let the intruder cuddle close. He had always been a sap for cuddling, anyways. Even if he didn't let anyone know. Even if this could be Moriarty about to kill him. He was just too damn tired to do anything about it. Living with Sherlock Holmes really put a strain on John's life. So he could enjoy these few moments with however decided to come into his room and cuddle him, if only for a while, until Sherlock did something stupid or woke him up to complain that he was bored.Sherlock's Excuse To Get Cuddles3 years ago in Romance More Like This
He felt soft hair against the back of his neck and a nose on his shoulder blade. It was nice, and John, sleepy and disoriented, enjoyed spooning with whoever this was. He pushed against the bed intruder slightly, bringin
Morning LipsGood morning you." John said cheerfully as he walked out of the kitchen to see Sherlock slumped in his armchair, his feet dangling over the edge and his head propped up on his hand.Morning Lips3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Hummm?" Sherlock asked, raising his head just enough to look at John. "Oh, Good morn-"
John came up to him and kissed him on the cheek. Sherlock, shocked, sat up a little more and watched as John went over and sat down in the chair across from Sherlock. John smiled, noticing he was staring.
"You okay?" John asked beaming.
"You just..." Sherlock began, then stopped mid-sentence and touched his cheek with his fingertips, smiling. "Yeah." He said. "Yeah. Perfectly fine."
John smiled and started to unfold the newspaper. Sherlock stood, walked over to John, placed his hand on his shoulder and bent down, kissing him on the cheek back. John took a deep breath of contentment as Sherlock pulled his lips away and went into the kitchen.
-Oh Sherlock...- John thought, smiling and touching his cheek. -Today, your cheek
Looks StunningWith John still in the hospital, it was tediously boring and quiet in the flat. It was back to the way it was before John walked into Sherlocks life, and Sherlock hated it. Sherlock never noticed how much he needed John to be with him. He knew that he couldn't live without him, but he never really knew how much it would hurt. Sherlock paced the flat, looking for something to do. Nothing.Looks Stunning3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Slowly, he walked into the kitchen, then towards his bedroom. John's door was slightly opened, unclosed from the rush of the ambulance getting him out of the flat, and Sherlock close behind in a cab. He paused, staring at the door and slowly pushed it open. He gently pushed the door closed behind him and walked into the room fully. Standing next to John's bed, he took a deep breath. That rush of John, vanilla and tangerines. Sherlock laid down on his bed, John's smell surrounding him, then, he took the bed sheet and wrapped himself in it, over his head. He inhaled deeply, breathing John in. Breat
I'm sorry, MycroftI'm sorry, Mycroft3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
He just stood there, hands in pockets, looking at his big brother as nothing had happened. Well, it was his usual look, the one that couldn't tell you much of the thoughts and emotions hidden behind those eyes. Actually, Mycroft was not much different, they were brothers after all and they were both extremely good at hiding feelings. So they were standing staring at each other trying to guess the following movement of one another. Sherlock expected everything, just everything, he never knew what could Mycroft do if his honour was wounded, and Sherlock was sure that it was. He hadn't told his brother about the plan, he had made him consider his little brother dead. It hurt, it definitely hurt. Not his feelings, but his pride. He had always been the person who knew everything about everyone. And now he was fooled by his own little brother. And that fact made the great Sherlock Holmes feel nervous. Like he was again five years old standing before his brother with his broken toy in one han
ExperimentJohn?Experiment3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I need you to come get me...
They won't let me leave.
Why not? What did you do?!
I'm too drunk.
Ha! You?! Drunk?! There's a new one!
Ok, ok, I'm sorry. I'll be right there.
The pub on the corner right?
Would you stop laughing at me?
After all the times I picked you up from this pub!!
I'm almost there.
John walked over to Sherlock who was sitting at the counter. John greeted the bar tender, took Sherlock's wrist, and helped him stand.
"I can -walk- John!" Sherlock hissed, pulling his wrist out of John's grasp.
And he seemed to be right. He lead the way out the exit and looked up and down the street. Something about Sherlock, being drunk never affected him. He could talk perfectly fine, walk perfectly straight, think perfectly annoyingly as always... The only thing the alcohol may do to him is ge
BBC Sherlock: NightmaresThe moment John woke up, he knew something was wrong. He was a light sleeper, courtesy of Afghanistan, so any sign of danger could instantly jolt him wide awake. And now he clearly sensed that his life was hanging by a thread. However, John decided to be cautious and not to make any unnecessary movements, which might provoke an assault. Instead he just opened his eyes slightly and carefully scanned the room shrouded in darkness. Yes, his instinct didn't fail him. There was someone standing at the door. The stranger was motionless, but John could hear him breathing irregularly, as if he just stopped running and tried to calm down. A shadowy, anonymous silhouette, like a monster from children's nightmares.BBC Sherlock: Nightmares3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
John felt fear rising in his chest, but years of being a soldier helped him to maintain his cool. His mind started racing, desperately trying to figure out what to do. He thought about the gun he kept in a bedside table's drawer, but he doubt he'd be quick enough to grab it before th
Look At Me- JohnlockSherlock, a little friend of yours stopped by - JMLook At Me- Johnlock3 years ago in Romance More Like This
What have you done this time? -SH
Well, he just stopped by to... chat - JM
Do I bother asking who? -SH
Let's see you guess - JM
Please tell me it's Mycroft. -SH
Wrong! - JM
Of course not. I should be so lucky. -SH
When do you think you'll pick him up? I just want to be ready - JM
You're going to just let him go? I don't buy it. -SH
Thats why I said I want to be ready. - JM
Doesn't this get old? The same old jog around the track? Why not, just once, kidnap
Anderson? Just to shake things up? -SH
I guess I should... This time, you have ten minutes or his brains are my new wallpaper.
Ten minutes to what? -SH
Get here. My apartment. He's crying. He still thinks you're dead - JM
God damn you. I'm already on my way. Don't touch him. -SH
Jim smiled and put the phone in his pocket. He held his gun towards John, who was forced with his back into a corner and his hands folded behind his head.
John couldn't believe it, or rather, wouldn'
Chapter 1 - 221B Paw StoriesREAD PREQUEL FIRSTChapter 1 - 221B Paw Stories3 years ago in Romance More Like This
221B PAW STORIES
«(o.o)» . «(o.o)»
Tea for two
John was late in coming down that morning. Sherlock had been up most of the night, as usual, and was now checking his website to see if there were any new cases. There were none. He sighed.
9am. What was John doing? He hadn't gone out last night, and he habitually got up around 7. Sherlock hadn't even heard him shower this morning. In fact, he hadn't heard anything at all coming from the upper room. His thoughts suddenly grew uneasy. What if John was ill? A fever perhaps? But he was a doctor, Sherlock wouldn't be useful with something like that, at all. Would he? No, definitely not. There was no point in going up to check on him. No point at all.
After five minutes of finger-tapping on the kitchen tabl
The Only ExceptionJohn closed his eyes, listening to the pounding rain on the window. The rain always relaxed him, just the sound of the pitter-patter of water hitting concert, the way the sky darkened and everything just slowed down. John stood up and walked to his room, not attracting the attention of his lover and flatmate, Sherlock Holmes.The Only Exception3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
John returned moments later with an Ipod touch and some portable speakers. He set them down on the table next to him and fumbled with the cord for a few minutes. Sherlock looked up from his book and shot John a questioningly look.
John pressed play and soft cords from an acoustic guitar played through the flat. John smiled at Sherlock as "The Only Exception" by Paramore strummed softly. The female singer's voice filled the flat with perfectly hit notes that seemed so relaxing to John.
"What's that, John?" Sherlock asked, wondering why John turned on this noise.
"Music. Come on Sherlock." John reached out his hand. "Dance with me?"
Sherlock thought for a moment as
Sweets Chapter Four - JohnlockChapter Four - How to fool your opponentSweets Chapter Four - Johnlock3 years ago in Romance More Like This
Sherlock didn't have to wait long, as London was a center for criminal activity and the police needed his help far too often. Scotland Yard sent him case files home, so that he could look into them and solve the case for them as soon as possible.
Sherlock lay on the couch, deep in thoughts, but they were not about the case. He had solved it almost instantly, it had been an far too easy, boring case. Sherlock thought about his next move. Should he just wait, until John would get the sweets on his own? Should he put on an act, so that he wouldn't have to wait too long, until John would think that the case was difficult for Sherlock? No, he would wait, even if he wasn't the most patient person. It was highly probable that John would look through it if Sherlock put on an act. John did most of the time. Waiting would be the best solution. His hands moved up to his chin, resting on his chest. This was so boring. A small smile played on Sherloc
Hot Showers"Sherlock? I'm more than willing to play alongseriously, by all means, keep goingbut I have to ask"Hot Showers3 years ago in Romance More Like This
Sherlock merely purred and John had to shake his head a little to clear his thoughts. Though he certainly wasn't arguing with his current positionpinned against a wall underneath Sherlockhe was understandably confused.
"Are you feeling alright? I mean, I've only just"
"Gotten out of a very hot shower. So hot in fact, that you didn't put on your robe, only a towel to cover your lower half."
"And so hot, that even a minute and 20 seconds later I can still see that your skin is red from where the water scalded youespecially here." Sherlock said, and he pressed his lips to the top of John's shoulder. He smiled when John hummed a mix between a moan and a chuckle. As quick to respond to flirtation as ever, John never had been the blushing, chaste type. Just another thing that Sherlock loved about him: he was quickto catch on an
Sherlock: Stay Awake“JOHN!” Sherlock screamed as the gun was fired and his partner fell to the floor. Sherlock faced the attacker and shot him twice in the chest. The man collapsed dead to the floor. Sherlock rushed to John’s side, he was bleeding heavily and his eyes were closedSherlock: Stay Awake2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
“John? John, can you hear me? John!”
“Yes, it’s me.” John opened his eyes and tried to sit up
“Stay still, John.” Sherlock tutted
“What happened…? Did we get him?” Sherlock smiled weakly
“We got him.”
“That’s good. Are you hurt?”
“No, but you are.”
“OK.” They were silent for a few minutes. John scanned the dark sky and stars for a while before looking back up at his friend. He looked into Sherlock’s eyes and saw something that he never thought he would see.
John wanted to tell Sherlock he was alright, even if he had managed to, he would be lying th
ForeverJohn was sitting in his arm chair, reading the paper as rain hit the window on the other side of the room. He felt eyes on him. He could feel the stares but he didn't dare look up. He was mad. Ferrous even. Mad that he had done this to him. Mad that he had left him alone for three bloody years.Forever3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Mad that he loved him after it was all said and done.
"John..?" Sherlock's voice was barely audible being just above a whisper.
John ignored him.
"John? Please..." Sherlock sounded pitiful.
John turned the page to the paper. He was going to make Sherlock suffer as long as he could. He was alone for three years. He was depressed, alone, and pissed all that time. Depressed his best friend had killed himself. Alone in the world he didn't want to be in anymore. Pissed that Sherlock had done this to him.
Sherlock stood and moved over to John, snatching the paper out of his hands.
"Listen to me..." He begged, his eyes sad and a little annoyed.
"Give me the pap
Warmth3:27Warmth3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Are you awake?
Sherlock? What's wrong? Where are you?
In my room.
Oh. Is something wrong?
Yes. I'm cold.
Well it is snowing outside
You texted me at 3:30 to tell me you're cold?
3:27. And yes.
Get a blanket!
Won't work. I need another source of heat generation.
Do you expect me buy you a heater?
Don't be ridiculous. I want you to be my heater.
You want me to sleep with you?
No. I want you to come stand in the room so that the heat generated from you body helps to raise the overall temperature.
Are you serious?!
It's called sarcasm John.
Oh. Right. Well it's too early for sarcasm and I'm too tired.
Too tired to sleep with me? I wasn't implying anything.
Too tired for sarcasm.
Oh. Right. Sorry
Are you coming?
Why should I?
I just told you - I'm cold!
Sherlock- Santa"Santa's not real."Sherlock- Santa3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Mycroft looked up over the pages of his textbook, eyeing his little brother curiously. "Of course he is." He said naturally, as anyone would to a child like Sherlock. Well, maybe not 'like Sherlock', but any child. This was supposed to be the age where children embraced Santa with open arms, finally understanding the lore behind the presents under the tree every Christmas.
Sherlock crossed his arms, which took a bit of wiggling, seeing as he had a wooden sword in one hand. In fact, he was in his pirate garb, including a blue bandanna making a feeble attempt to hold back his wild black curls, a white button-up collared shirt that was too large for him (it had been Mycroft's, once), and poofy brown pants that billowed out before scrunching back in with elastic around mid-calf.
"No he isn't." Sherlock announced stubbornly.
"Whatever you say. Just don't tell father and mother or they'll think I told you," Mycroft sighed, going back to his homework.
Sherlock gave a trium