gif: johnlock

“Are they gone, John?”

“Hm, what?”

“I asked if they were gone.”

“Er … yeah, I think so.”

“Think so? You didn’t even check. Your eyes are closed.”

“Nope.”

“They are. Are you smelling my neck?”

“Maybe. But I only started after I realised that you are smelling my hair.”

“It’s right under my nose.”

“Your neck is right in front of mine. Actually, I think we should wait here a little longer. Just to make sure they’re really gone.”

“That’s a most brilliant idea.”

“Agreed.”

For this month’s @sherlockchallenge “Height Difference”

anonymous asked:

Sandy, I wanna see John Watson be loved and made to feel it. Since we didn't get that in the show, do you know of any fics where Sherlock makes John feel special and treasured? Or fics where John cries tears of joy because he's so happy? Thank you!

Hey Nonny, you ask the tough questions. I’m not sure if all these are exactly what you’re looking for, but here are some fics where Sherlock shows John his love, sometimes in odd ways ;-)

     Fan Mail  by scullyseviltwin

“WatsonChick143 has been rather maniacal in her commenting as of late… she’s left comments on everything you’ve posted John, something so obvious can’t have escaped even your attention.“

    One Day at a Time  series by    KeelieThompson1

Sherlock always had an influence on John, so when he “dies” and John finds his secret stash of cocaine, one thing leads to another. And John is far too proud to admit just how far he is falling or ask for help. Afterall, who is there left that he can really ask?

     Northwest Passage  by Kryptaria

Seven years ago, Captain John Watson of the Canadian Forces Medical Service withdrew from society, seeking a simple, isolated life in the distant northern wilderness of Canada. Though he survives from one day to the next, he doesn’t truly live until someone from his dark past calls in a favor and turns his world upside-down with the introduction of Sherlock Holmes.

     His Heavenly Cradle  by BashfulBunny (Aequoreavictoria)

Soft Omega verse.  Sherlock supports John as John struggles to recover from an abusive marriage and the loss of his unborn baby boy.

     Life’s a long headache in a noisy street  by fennishjournal (Shimi)

Sherlock holding his head in his hands as if it was something fragile and important seemed to remove John a little from the rest of the pain. As if, he thought exhaustedly, Sherlock was able to hold his pain as well as his head, so that John didn’t have to carry it alone.

     Longing to Belong  by couchbarnacle

Sometimes finding your place in the world is a longer and rougher journey than you could ever imagine. Thankfully, you find the people to help you through it along the way.

Sherlock and John grow up with all of their hopes and dreams pulled out from under them forcing the pair to work through a pile of crap to find each other.

Alpha/Beta/Omega Story. Yeah, I totally went there.

     Vessel by Rhuia

That was the surprising bit – the way his doctor said it, eyes shining with sympathy but breathing it out, shifting it off her shoulders and thrusting it onto his, making him take it like an unwanted gift.

     Colors  by Quesarasara

Everyone on earth is born with eyes that see in black, white, and an endless series of greys.

When you meet your soulmate, you finally see the world in color.

We’re all searching for the person who brings color to our lives.

John and Sherlock are no exception.

     This Man’s Heart by ellie_hell

In the latter part of the 19th century, a peculiar solitary man and an ex-army doctor disfigured at war live in a small village, surrounded by breathtaking landscapes. When they first meet, they have no idea their lives are about to change forever and, over the months, they will form an unusual friendship, discover more about each other and themselves, and maybe fall a little in love along the way.

Unkissed Series by      221b_hound

Sherlock returned from the dead a year ago. John returned to Baker Street six months ago. They’ve been in a couple since then. or at least, not NOT a couple. For two smart men, they sure can be dumb. Luckily, an art thief tries to drown Sherlock, Sherlock has a fever dream and things are about to change.

     Fearful Symmetry / World Without End / Attached  by irisbleufic

Of nightmares, family, and forgiveness.

Sherlock stands by the window and looks out into the darkness of the night.

His arms are wrapped around himself.

A defensive posture.

When John joins him, Sherlock doesn’t look at him.

But he says softly, “If I could, I would stop it.”

“What?” Asks John.

“Being afraid of what I want and of what could happen when I get it,” Sherlock says. “All the scenarios in my head … What could I win? And what … what could I lose?”

John understands.

He takes Sherlock’s hands into his. Gently releases the tension.

Then he leads Sherlock back to bed.

“I am here,” he says. “Tell me what you want. You can share with me all the things you have kept secret. Your wishes. Your thoughts. Your desires. I want to take your fear away. I promise you that whatever you reveal, it’s safe with me. This is for us. And it remains with us. You can trust me. Allright?”

“Yes,” Sherlock says. “Yes, John …”

They lie in bed and look into each other’s eyes.

“What do you want now? Right now?” John asks quietly. "Tell me.”

And in the moonlight, Sherlock softly says to him, “I want you.”


Drabbles inspired by song titles, 2/? (200 words)
Song: Muse - Undisclosed Desires

archiveofourown.org
Signs Following | Chapter 4: Be Watchful Thou My Soul | Vulgarweed | Sherlock (TV) |Archive of Our Own
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

1976. Bone Fiddle-verse; Appalachian AU. A couple years into their relationship, John and Sherlock are cozily setting up for spring with Mrs. Hudson’s expert guidance when a distraught young woman appeals to them for help and sends them on one of their strangest cases yet - in order to solve one murder and prevent another, they must tangle with a sinister preacher and enter the much-sensationalized, little-understood world of Pentecostal Holiness believers who strictly observe Mark 16: 17-18.

(And these signs shall follow them that believe; In my name shall they cast out devils; they shall speak with new tongues; they shall take up serpents; and if they drink any deadly thing, it shall not hurt them; they shall lay hands on the sick, and they shall recover.)

***

Chapter 4: To study snakes, you have to visit their den.

***

Chapter 2 of ‘We’ll Meet Again’ just happened

I started this for the prompt ‘past-present’ from the 31 Days of Porn Challenge 2017 back in May. 

It’s a 1940s Johnlock AU, set during WWII in London. And at the moment it looks likely that it might evolve into a gay spy AU, Sherlock and John fighting Nazis…

I truly wasn’t planning to revisit this story, but then I read the fabulous Enigma by @khorazir (If you haven’t read it, do yourself a favour and start now, not that I claim to be anywhere near the quality of this brilliant story) and had a chat with @a-different-equation about the love letters exchanged between two gay british  soldiers during WWII. All of this somehow triggered the new chapter.

Beware, it’s smutty… and a bit sad:

Luckily, the Metropolitan and District Line is running without interruptions for once. The air strike last night did hit again the East End, but apparently the more central parts of London were spared. Still, the platforms and cars are crammed, which is annoying as the journey to Baker Street takes nearly half an hour due to the usual delays.

John isn’t so lucky as to get a seat. He has to stand, swaying slightly while holding onto a strap. He’s exhausted from his night shift, despite his heart beating hard and fast in his chest at the prospect of meeting the stranger from last night again. He toys with the slip of paper in his pocket until he almost falls asleep, only woken up by the rattling of the train when it runs over a turnout.

It’s hot and humid in the car. The air smells of cabbage, unwashed people, wool, wet dog and cigarettes. John is glad when the train eventually reaches Baker Street and he can finally get off. The station is a labyrinth, a hideous conglomerate of older stations, fused together by narrow stairs, aching lifts and dark passages. When he surfaces , John takes a few deep breaths in the bright morning sun.

As he turns left and walks up Baker Street, he passes buildings walled with sand bags. Others are damaged to different degrees by bombs, yet not recently. There are not that many people about at this time of day, as it’s almost nine o'clock in the morning. School and work have started, and John sees only housewives on their way to do what passes for shopping these days and mostly consists of queueing for one’s rations.

The ground floor of 221 Baker Street is quite fittingly occupied by a small bakery. Next to it’s bright red store front, however, is a black door that seems to lead to flats above the shop. John takes a deep breath, squares his shoulders, and knocks.

He has no idea what might await him. But no risk, no fun.

John waits a little but when nothing happens, he knocks again, louder this time, and steps back onto the pavement to gaze up at the facade. He can see the curtain of a window on the first floor move slightly. About a minute later, the front door is opened a fraction and a pale face pears out at him, surrounded by dark curls. A sharp gaze runs him up and down before the door is opened a little wider.

“What do you want?” A deep voice asks brusquely. It’s the man from last night. Or is it? The voice sounds the same, a posh, velveteen baritone. But as it had been too dark to see each other properly, John can’t be sure.

“Are you Mr Holmes? Sorry, I think we… met last night, at Smithfield Market, and you invited me?” John is suddenly doubting that this has been a good idea.

The man stares at him a little longer, blinking rapidly. “Did I? Maybe I did. Come in, anyway.”

Continue on AO3

Link to chapter one

“But Sherlock is Asexual” (meta)

Plenty of mainstream dramas feature sex. House of Cards, Breaking Bad, The Leftovers, Riverdale, The West Wing, Lost, Mad Men, Game of Thrones…the list goes on and on. So it’s almost funny how little sex there is in Sherlock. Think about it. There are no sex scenes in all 13 episodes of the show–and that’s because of all the sexual content. 

Full meta below the cut. 

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A Sweet Gesture

Warm tones of sunset bathe over the pair walking the beaches of Malibu. A man and a young girl. Gentle breezes dance over them, chilly night air warning of it’s coming. Rosie kicks her feet in the sand as Sherlock simply enjoys the feeling of it under his feet. He holds her hand. The beach is lovely at this time. dusk on a Tuesday evening in a residential part of the coast is quiet of people.

Rosie drops his hand and trots up to the water edge. Apparently investigating a fallen sandcastle. Sherlock patiently waits for her return. But It seems she has no intention to. Instead, he wanders to where the sand meets a raised boulevard and sits. He watches her playing in her own world. A smile tugs at his cheeks. The little girl has brought Sherlock more joy than he even expected. As Sherlock nears his fiftieth year, and Rosie her eleventh, he considers her and her father more than a blood family can be.

A little boy, around eight, wanders up to her. He holds his hand out with a shell of some kind in his palm. A decoration for the revived sandcastle. Rosie takes it and plants it on the tallest part of the castle. They’re friends now. Rosie does so well at making friends. far better than Sherlock did at her age. The children begin to dig a moat around the castle, efforts joined. Sherlock admires how open a child’s mind is.

“You’re daughter?” Comes a male voice from behind Sherlock.

“Step-daughter,” Sherlock corrects, still watching the kids. He can sense the other man watching them fondly as well. They run now, the sandcastle finished. playing a game of chase through the lapping water. But the boy falls over. He cries out to his dad in a whining tone. The man behind Sherlock utters worry and runs down to help him. Once the boy is righted, Rosie hugs him.

“You’re married, then?”

Sherlock’s breath stills in shock. He hasn’t heard that velveteen voice in a decade. It’s different now, in age and motherhood, but still so familiar to him. “Yes, two days ago.” he begins, presenting the ring on his finger back to her. “Came here to make it official. He makes a good husband.”

Irene joins him on the edge of the boulevard. “As does mine.” Sherlock believes it. The man she has taken as a partner is well suited to family life. He now runs around with the children.

“You’re son?” Sherlock asks.

“Yes. I fell pregnant soon after our last meeting.” Her voice contains regret. Sherlock remembers that night. The damage they did to each other was irreparable.

“You’ve done well,” Sherlock offers in subtle apology for their past mistakes. Irene smiles melancholic at the horizon.

“I have.” Her eyes portray her sorries and forgiveness’s. The pair let a moment pass, nurturing the gentle silence. They used to share it like this. Rosie and the boy pile sand over Irene’s husband’s legs, a huge smile planed on his lips.

“What is your girl’s name?” Irene asks.

“Rosie. After her mother.” Irene mods solemnly. She knows about Mary and her misfortune. “And your boy?”

“William Scott.” Sherlock turns his head to face her with surprise. Irene smiles at his reaction, her eyes still facing forward. She lingers a moment before she turns to him with a soft expression on her face.

“Ode to another life.” Sherlock warms. They share a moment of understanding for each other, and for their situation before their eyes settle back on the playing trio. Sherlock speaks,

“Sweet gesture.”

Wordless

A/N: Inspired by the Morse code post by @tea-and-gingernuts

Sherlooock, it’s too early to- John’s eyes flew open, the grogginess that enveloped his body gone out the window at the familiar tender touch and presence of the consulting detective. He didn’t have to turn to know the gorgeous man had him in his arms, back pressed against a firm chest and an arm locked around him to lay a hand lightly on his stomach.

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