Johnlock: It's Three A.MIt's three A.M,
And I don't know,
Where you are.
I stare at the ceiling,
So blank, so endless,
And I cry.
It seeps into my mind,
Like a vice.
I want to take a hold of it,
And never let it go.
I dream that you are still here,
Speaking to me in that rough voice,
That I have come to love,
It's three A.M,
And I don't know what to do.
The bottle in my hand,
It keeps returning to my lips,
I go get a new bottle.
The silence is breaking me,
The ticking of the clock,
I choke on my own fear,
My pain, knowing you are here,
But still so far away.
Alive, you are, Sherlock?
But I don't know why.
I want you to come home.
I don't know where you are.
I want you
A Whole New Level of FreakSherlock’s phone beeped with a text from Lestrade, “Don’t go in without back up!”A Whole New Level of Freak1 year ago in Drama More Like This
The consulting detective shoved the phone back into his pocket and crept towards an old moon lit mill. There was a rumor that Jacquelyn Hart, an infamous murder who’s signature was to keep the limbs of her victims, was living in the abandoned building with her guard dog. The dog itself was a rumor, but where ever she went locals claimed to hear monstrous howls.
Sherlock smirked to himself when he reached the door, Lestrade seemed to think he needed a baby sitter. Absently wondering about the best way to get his stash back from the DI he picked the rusty lock. As the door swung open Sherlock pulled a flashlight from his pocket and stepped over the threshold.
It was clear that a woman had been in the first room hours before, and Sherlock continued further into the mill. The area containing machinery was surrounded by a perimeter of floor to ceiling silver bars, an expensive mat
Johnlock Renaissance Fair“Sherlock, are you ready to go yet?” John asked, leaning against the door frame. When his mad flatmate had suggested the idea, John had been confused and wary. Why would Sherlock want to go to a renaissance fair? The sound of heavy boots approaching pulled John from his thoughts as Sherlock approached. Black leather pants tucked into worn fold over boots. His blue scarf hung from his hips where John could see a sword, pistol, compass, and small pouch that John would bet held Sherlock’s gloves and spyglass. Sherlock’s shirt was loose and purple and hung open halfway down his chest. He had two rings on his right hand and three rings in his left ear. His unruly curls also stuck out from under his hat much to John’s amusement. Quicksilver eyes appraised him as well as Sherlock came to a stop in front of John, quicksilver eyes lined in black.Johnlock Renaissance Fair1 year ago in Romance More Like This
“What do you think?” Sherlock asked a small smirk tugging at his lips. Like he didn’t already know. Jo
Welcome Home, DearWelcome Home, Dear1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Sherlock: "Welcome home, Dear. Looks like you had a rough day, poor thing. Come in, the kettle's just boiled. Have some tea with me and tell me all about it. Work was murder for me as well, but then again work is ALWAYS murder for me There's a girl, I made you laugh didn't I? Don't I get a kiss for that? Oh yes, much better. Oooh and a cigarette? You spoil me, Darling. Let me rub that back of yours. No, that's John's chair, Dear, better sit on my lap. I love you. Don't think or worry about anything, just let it all disappear with my soothing touch. You melt every time I touch you, I quite like that. Lay your head right here on my shoulder, yes just like that, as I run my fingers through that pretty hair of yours. Whenever you don't feel like anyone special, remember I've fallen for you....... that makes you special. Of course it's okay to fall asleep on my shoulder, you're quite welcome. One more kiss before you fall asleep? Mmmm I could certainly get used to that. I'll smoke this l
The Calm Before the StormSherlock sighed as a creak from the staircase leading up to 221b betrayed Mycroft’s arrival. Seconds later the elder Holmes brother strolled into the flat not trying to hide his disdain. Sherlock walked from his broken windows and grabbed his violin on the way to his chair. His brother clearly wanted him to take a case he was to lazy to take care of himself, and once he got unbearable Sherlock planed to drive him out with some Bach.The Calm Before the Storm11 months ago in General Fiction More Like This
Mycroft sat in the chair opposite him and Sherlock felt a twinge of annoyance. That was John’s chair.
“It seems like living with John Watson is doing you good.” Mycroft said looking his brother up and down.
Sherlock narrowed his eyes and waited for his brother to speak again, to reveal his attack of the day.
“You know that your safety is my highest priority.”
Sherlock rolled his eyes, “Can we skip your frankly alarming show affection and get to the part where you offer me a job, I decline, and you leave?”
A Genius, A Doctor and...A Baby?It’s a late spring night on Baker Street in North Manchester, the air smelling of rain and fresh baked goods from a bakery down the road, whose owner was up late preparing for the next day’s business.A Genius, A Doctor and...A Baby?1 year ago in Humor More Like This
A dimly lit apartment, the only lights from a lamp and the blueish glow of a laptop, as the city bustled outside the windows, the pale amber streetlights casting halos on empty sidewalks a deep grey.
A man, dressed in a blue grey bathrobe, lounges on the couch, a pale arm lying over his eyes, thick dark curls on his head in a crazy unkept fashion, soft enough you’d almost want to touch it if it weren’t for the loaded handgun in Sherlock Holmes’ other hand, hanging limply down.
The detective peeks from beneath his sleeve at his friend, partner, flat mate and one real connection to the ou
Let Me See You...The last thing John had expected to see when he entered the warehouse was nothing. He hobbled further inside and stood his ground, hands folded over the cane.Let Me See You...1 year ago in Romance More Like This
“Cut the crap Mycroft! You dragged me out here for a reason. Make your demands so I can ignore them and go back.” There was a shuffling noise nearby and John turned, confused. Mycroft would never shuffle.
“J-john.” Despite the coarse voice, clearly dehydrated and in pain, John would recognize the timbre anywhere. Sherlock was still half hidden in shadow, clutching his left arm tightly. A closer look revealed it was dislocated. Sherlock had a scar just on the edge of the right side of his jaw now, almost invisible unless you were as short as John was. Sherlock’s coat was gone and his shirt had so many bloody tears in it you couldn’t tell it had once been white. Sherlock’s leg was bleeding too and he had a very serious limp. His fingertips were smooth, like someone had attempted to remove h
Johnlock - Reunion NightSherlock Holmes. Is alive.Johnlock - Reunion Night1 year ago in Romance More Like This
Sherlock Holmes is alive.
Sherlock is alive.
John Watson retires to his old bedroom in 221B Baker Street. He sinks onto his mattress, looking around at the ugly wallpaper. Normally John feels quite comfortable here but tonight his mind is reeling with the shock of his very best friend being alive. His hands rest in his lap, his eyes drop to his feet in their black stockings. His mind circles one sentence, one thought: Sherlock is alive.
Sherlock Holmes stands outside the door of his very best friend. His bare feet are chilled even with the threadbare rug between his skin and the floor. Sherlock finds himself hesitating, rising on his tiptoes, hand hovering above the knob. This new hesitation is something that irritates Sherlock; he never used to have a problem with barging into John's room.
This is rubbish, He scolds himself. Then his hand is turning the doorknob. Sherlock's legs move him into the dark room of their own acc
A Dream of 221 B.A Dream of 221 B.1 year ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
My eyes open, seemingly from having just blinked, already adjusted to the quiet darkness of the wondrously familiar room. I'm lying on the couch in that glorious flat I know and love, my back resting comfortably against the cushions, arms wrapped tightly around the one and only Mr. Sherlock Holmes, who's facing me, back towards the rest of the room. I don't remember how we got there, and I don't even question it, because NOTHING in my life has ever felt so right and natural as this very moment. Sherlock's wearing his grey pajama shirt, blue striped pajama bottoms, and of course his dark blue silk dressing gown. I feel his arms pull me tighter to him, hands flat on my back, and I'm nuzzling the crook of his neck, feeling his heart's steady beat against mine, and quiet breath atop my head. Sherlock glances down at my legs, and frowns, wrinkling his nose, looking quickly to me and then back down, in a double take. He looks back up at me suspiciously, and whispers.
"Are those MY boxers tha
Mistletoe and Wine (Johnlock)Twasn't the night before Christmas,Mistletoe and Wine (Johnlock)1 year ago in Romance More Like This
And snow didn't fall,
The only thing stirring
Was a man both handsome and tall...
Sherlock didn't see the point in Christmas-themed food, or in fact the concept of eating at all. The fact that John partook in such an activity, or even relished in the joy of such an occasion, confused Sherlock, but it had come to Sherlock's attention how the 'ordinary' human being would like to eat nice foods.
It had also come to Sherlock's attention how he had neither skill or interest when it came to preparing food. However, if it was for John...
He flicked through one of Mrs Hudson's recipe books he'd 'borrowed' from her, sighing distastefully at the selection of foods that flicked through his vision. It almost made him nauseous to see all the different types of food, and he tried to ignore focusing on the images and just on the titles of the dishes as he flicked through the book. However much he tried to focus, though, each Christmas dish looked as sickly as
The Infatuated Fall: Chapter 1 (Johnlock)It hadn't taken very long for John to make his decision. The flash drive had burned in his pocket and even hotter in his hand as he had prepared to view its contents. Everything inside him was torn and when he had finally viewed what the flash drive contained, he was justified in his decision. He couldn't stay at their house, where he thought they had built a home. It was a lie; everything about his relationship and his marriage was false. So, he had to return to the only place where he felt remotely safe and normal; the only other place where he had felt a warm sense of home: 221B Baker Street. John did not give his former flatmate much notice, but was almost certain that Sherlock understood the reasoning behind his move.The Infatuated Fall: Chapter 1 (Johnlock)1 year ago in Romance More Like This
About a week passed and John’s belongings were finally settled back into the place he had called home a little more than two years ago, before everything that had happened. It felt a bit nostalgic, to be honest, and that helped him cope a little. John didn't fi
RedJohn hadn’t seen Sherlock for three days, the boy was not in his room and he didn’t show up to classes; John was starting to get worried. He started staying out late, checking clubs and various other haunts for his friend. When he came back that night his dorm room was open. Sherlock’s scarf was on his bed. Sherlock appeared back in class the next day with a note for the flu, he also avoided John for the rest of the day disappearing into the crowd the second class got out. John tried again and again finally trapping the young genius when he snuck out of study hall for a cigarette.Red11 months ago in Drama More Like This
"Sherlock, where have you been I've been worried sick about you." The dark haired boy took a drag of his cig and shrugged,
"Out." John sighed.
"Out where?" Sherlock shrugged again blowing out a lungful of smoke. When Sherlock lifted his arm to take another drag John noticed the red marks on Sherlock's wrist.
"My god, Sherlock! What happened to you?" He reached for the sleeve of Sherlock's ja
The Chocolate Cake Incident (Sherlock Fanfic)Sherlock and Mycroft Holmes sat on the chairs of 221B Baker Street. Mycroft had decided to visit his little brother for a chat, however things weren't going as expected.The Chocolate Cake Incident (Sherlock Fanfic)1 year ago in General Fiction More Like This
“How’s the diet, Mycroft?” Sherlock mused
“I don’t think so.”
“You have chocolate cake stains around your mouth and suit.” John tried to sustain a smile but failed. Mycroft’s jaw clenched “You’ve gone against your diet.”
“Oh Hush brother.” John looked between the two brothers in confusion
“What is happening here?” I mused
“Oh Nothing.” Sherlock stood up and walked to the kitchen, he emerged a few seconds later holding a huge chocolate cake. Mycroft eyed his brother suspiciously as he cut a slice of cake and handed it to Mycroft.
“No thank you”
“Are you sure?” Sherlock seemed to tease his elder brother and torment him.
“I am o
Sherlock: Halloween Gone Wrong (Halloween Special)Sherlock Holmes was visibly annoyed. Very annoyed. Lestrade had called him at 10 o’clock at night to investigate a strange house. Sherlock was in the middle of celebrating Halloween with John and Mrs Hudson; then dressing up as The Creature from Frankenstein and then scare all of the children who came knocking on his door. Instead, he and John had to be dragged to an abandoned building on the outskirts of London. And for further aggravation, Lestrade hadn’t been bothered to meet them there. In fact, none of the department had.Sherlock: Halloween Gone Wrong (Halloween Special)1 year ago in General Fiction More Like This
The pair paid the cabbie and then left the car. John’s eyes set on the house and he breathed out, his breath left as smoke out of his mouth and then disappeared into the night air. He turned to Sherlock
“Is this it?”
“It would seem so” Sherlock replied, looking onto a piece of paper with a roughly scrawled address. They walked to the huge oak doors
“Uh… Should we knock?”
“Please, John. Do
The Phantom of the Johnlock Ch. 1Paris, 1919The Phantom of the Johnlock Ch. 110 months ago in Drama More Like This
“Lot 663 then, ladies and gentlemen. A poster for this house’s production of ‘Hannibal’ by Chalumeau.” The Woman read off and the large piece was displayed. Sherlock stood off to the side, leaning against the wall, not really caring about props and production pieces. But if he could find anything of His, that would satisfy him. “Do I have ten francs?” The older man tuned out the bidding but inclined his head when he saw the opera house’s previous owner was in attendance. Another piece was auctioned off while Sherlock studied the Woman herself, she had been lovely many years ago but time had left it’s mark on her. Her wit was as sharp as ever though and she winked at Sherlock when she saw him looking.
“Lot 665 ladies and gentleman...” Irene continued to speak but Sherlock’s gaze had zeroed in on the music box in the presenters hands. “May I commence at fifteen francs?” Mike Stamford a man S
Family ties - Sherlock fanficChapter 1Family ties - Sherlock fanfic1 year ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
“Don’t be absurd, John!” Sherlock sulked at the backseat of the cab as they were driving towards the hospital.
“You’re the one being absurd, Sherlock, it’s your own brother!”
“Exactly! Can you really handle two of the Holmes brothers under the same roof?”
John smirked as he thought over this, indeed this was going to be very interesting and nerve-racking. Probably more nerve-racking than interesting actually. He shook these thoughts away as he replied:” He’s family and he had a heart attack. You can’t just leave him. Besides - It won’t be long.”
“He has plenty of people to take care of him! Why must it be us?” Sherlock wondered aloud.
“Because – Sherlock – family.” John sighed. True, he wasn’t all that happy about the prospect either, he knew how the two brothers got along and he wasn’t all that sure if it would in fact be good for Mycroft&
Dinner For Your Beloved6:26Dinner For Your Beloved1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sesame Chicken from Golden Lotus for dinner.
You know some people use "please" when making a request.
It wasn't a request.
That's across London, Sherlock!
John, I haven't eaten for three days.
And whose fault is that?
The murderer. Keep up.
Oh, you solved it, then?
No, John, I have the name of the murderer but I haven't solved the case.
Alright, no need to get sarcastic.
There is every need. You won't get Chinese.
I'll get you Chinese, just not from Golden Lotus. There's the cafe right near the flat.
Their Sesame Chicken is too dry. And they drench their fried rice in soy sauce.
Then order something else! Or we could
Sherlock-CaringSherlock held the phone in his hand. Standing on the edge of the rooftop. Cool wind blew his coat around him.Sherlock-Caring1 year ago in General Fiction More Like This
John shook his head in disbelief.
He was doing it all for them. For John, for Mrs. Hudson, for Lestrade. They couldn't even know it. Couldn't know why he was doing this, why he was doing it to them. Lestrade an Mrs. Hudson might even believe that he was a fraud. But John still believed. Believed in him. John wouldn't let himself believe he had been tricked, that someone could act as his friend all along.
Sherlock ended the call and threw the phone on the rooftop behind him. He could still see everything. He could see the moment they met, and everything he had first deduced about John. A military man with a limp and night terrors. John showed him something though, he showed him that people could be so much more.
The first case they solved John killed a man for him. For him. Sherlock never expected anyone to do anything like that for him.
Slow Me Down“This way John!” The dark haired detective yells as he grabs his best friends sleeve, yanking him in the right direction. They run down the alley after their quarry, John has his gun thankfully. Sherlock’s map of London is illuminated in front of his eyes, paths the thief is likely to take highlighted. Next to it Sherlock’s file of deductions about the man scrolls over and over again. The man takes a wrong turn and Sherlock could have whooped with delight, finally this chase was almost over, John’s breathing was becoming labored. Their target takes another turn and runs right into the arms of Scotland Yard. There are cars everywhere, lights and sounds drawing every persons attention to the scene they are creating. John is leaning against the wall beside him coughing. The busy street overwhelms Sherlock’s senses, too many deductions, too much sensation. Sherlock turns back down the alley and jogs away, he leans against the wall hands over his ears asSlow Me Down1 year ago in General Fiction More Like This
Getting Down"Sherlock, are you planning on getting down from there?"Getting Down1 year ago in Short Stories More Like This
"In a moment, John."
"You can't, can you?"
"Don't be an idiot."
"All right then, do it."
"Shut up, I'm thinking."
"How did you get up there in the first place?"
“Don’t tell me you can’t remember!”
“I wasn’t going to say that!”
“Stay right where you are.”
"Sherlock, what the hell are you doing?!"
Mystery - Sherlock/JohnWhoever says that time cures, we’ll never hear that phrase and never follow it.Mystery - Sherlock/John1 year ago in Romance More Like This
- Sherlock? – a silent awkward question was heard out of the hall. – Mary, stay here, please. I am sure I’ll manage it on my own.
- But John… - a blond woman grabbed her husband’s arm and tried to stop him, but he pushed her hand away with one gentle move and walked into the living room.
The look of it wasn’t sad. It was tragic, dramatic, but strangely calming down. There were hot flames in the fireplace, which were warming up people’s limbs and souls. Heavy curtains were half-closed. An opened whisky bottle stood on the floor.
- Ah, this is you, John. Come in, come in, feel at home, yes…
Now this phrase sounded awkward, ridiculous and John needed some time to realize how long ago this place stopped being his home. Dark eyes, full of reproach and fog, now stared at the man. John looked in this eyes so many times and always saw only frost and mys
The Deduction of Love (Johnlock)“John. Come here, please.”The Deduction of Love (Johnlock)1 year ago in Romance More Like This
John flicked his eyes at the detective, already frowning from his favorite arm chair.
“What is it, Sherlock? And I’m not making you any more tea.”
The younger man sighed dramatically, lowering the bow to his violin once more and coaxing out a few melancholy notes. The early morning sun light was streaming in through the dirty windows, giving John a nice view of his pajama-clad and sleep-ruffled boyfriend.
After a moment he sighed, rolling his eyes, as he brought his tea cup to his lips and turned his attention back to the telly. Sherlock quietly placed his violin on the window sill and stepped nonchalantly in front of the ex-soldier.
John huffed, bending around Sherlock to place his tea cup pointedly on the table before turning his eyes back to the detective’s. Those bloody brilliant ice blue-green eyes were no doubt deducing John’s every movement already.
“What do you want, Sherlock?”
“John, I want
Sherlock BBC Don'tJohn sat on the edge of the rooftop, the same rooftop. He buried his head in his hands, heart beating through his chest. His palms were sweaty. He didn't know if he could do it. He couldn't take it anymore. He was still at 221B, and he couldn't stand the emptiness, He could still hear him, running around the rooms. Doing experiments in the kitchen, But when he went to look, there was nothing. The table would be clean of any clutter, and there would be a thin layer of dust on all the counter tops. Because he was gone. Sherlock was gone, his best friend. After everything that happened. He jumped. All because everyone thought he was a fake, Donovan, Anderson, even Lestrade. It made him think he was a fraud himself. but he wasn't! He wasn't! John slammed him fist on the rough concrete, and tears came out. He stood up, slowly and shakily, almost losing his balance a few times. He took a deep, deep breath and prepared to step forward. He heard a phone behind him. "What?" He said aloud,Sherlock BBC Don't1 year ago in General Fiction More Like This
Teen!LockxTeen!ReaderIt has been a month since you began to attend your new school; it had also been a month since you met the most remarkable human being: Sherlock Holmes. It started out awkward however overtime you both started talking and found out you had a few similarities and eventually you became friends.Teen!LockxTeen!Reader1 year ago in General Fiction More Like This
You walked through the school gates and you came across a group of kids chanting ‘Fight, Fight, Fight!’ You pushed your way through to the middle of the crowd and spotted Sherlock and a bigger teenager brawling and struggling on the floor. You rolled your (e/c) eyes and sighed.
“Oi! Break it up!” you shouted and the two boys stopped. You grabbed Sherlock and tugged him away from the older boy, his name was Louis. “That’s enough.” You snarled and stood in front of Sherlock.
“Getting your girlfriend to protect you?” Louis sneered at Sherlock who froze
“Leave him alone.” You snarl “That’s all for today folks!” you addr
Monsters and MurderRays of sunlight light shone through the windows of 221B onto what would have been a peaceful scene, but the sound of rapid gunfire interrupted the vision. Sherlock Holmes was slouched in his chair and was firing a SIG Sauer P226 at the spray painted smiley face on the wall. There was a click and then silence when the gun ran out of bullets and the detective groan and dropped his arm to the floor.Monsters and Murder10 months ago in Drama More Like This
After the incident with Moriarty at the pool John announced that he and Sarah were going to New Zealand for a few weeks. Sherlock had shut himself in the flat since John had left even though it only heightened his misery. He slowly got to his feet and shuffled through the empty boxes of bullets. When he was unable to find ammunition he dragged himself to the stairs leading down to Mrs. Hudson’s flat and bellowed, “Bored!” even though he knew she had gone to her sister’s.
Pouting he texted Lestrade: