#johnlock ficlet on ao3

[topsyturvy-turtely]

winter & christmas fluff by turtely

❄️❄️❄️

Snowflakes

(686w, General Audience, fluff!)

Summary:

The contrast of Sherlock's dark curls and the white snowflakes was beautiful. John's gaze fell onto Sherlock's cheekbones. A snowflake has landed there and slowly started melting at the edges.

Even if John would have wanted to, he could not have looked away.

🎅🏻🎅🏻🎅🏻

John's Lover, Santa

(4004w, General Audience, AU: Sherlock is Santa Claus, Fluff and Crack, Crack treated seriously)

Based on this norwegian ad (more info in the notes on ao3)

Summary:

A half naked, half asleep John Watson spies a young, slim, black haired Santa.

A busy, grumpy Santa catches eyes of a rather nice looking naked torso with an even better looking face.

Santa winks and John is left behind, stunned. Will they ever meet again?

---

i would like to add this second fic to @helloliriels crack fic competition. i wrote it last year and published it on wattpad but only today realized this is very much crack, haha xD

tags under the cut <3

tag list! (tell me if you wanna be added or removed💚) @catlock-holmes @justanobsessedpan @fluffbyday-smutbynight @inevitably-johnlocked @hisfavouritejumper @rhasima @forfucksakejohn @ohlooktheresabee @turbulenttrouble @7arantellgrrl @ssmeowl123 @so-youre-unattached-like-me @totallysilvergirl @peanitbear @train-mossman @loki-lock @smulderscobie @timberva @grace-in-the-wilderness @chinike @pansherlock @the-smol-bean-libby-blog @jawnn-watson @whatnext2020 @escapingthereality @missdeliadili @kettykika78 @musingsofmyown @7-percent @speedymoviesbyscience @astudyin221b @francj15 @almosttinycowboy @ladylindaaa @we-r-loonies @mxster-jocale @sherlockcorner @noahspector @our-stars-graveside @jobooksncoffee

[bs2sjh]

May 22 - Night and May 23 - Apology

Sorry for not updating yesterday. Got a big exam on Tuesday, and studying, as well as working 40+ hours a week, is kicking my ass! Anyway, here we go. Two instalments, so keep scrolling down and hit expand!

Day 22 - Night

"You're joking, right?" Night was falling as John looked up from the laptop, a confused smile on his lips.

"Nope."

"But why?"

"I'd have thought that was obvious."

"To you, yeah, maybe. To us mere mortals, it'll need some explaining. So, why?"

"It has everything. More room. Gardens. Space to expand. Grow."

"You just said you're fed up with living here 'cause it's too quiet, and you want to swap our home for this?" John's voice raised at the end.

"Home? Our home? You haven't lived here for thirteen years. No amount of asking has made you even consider moving back here." Sherlock's own anger started to rise.

"Asking? When have you asked?" John slammed the laptop shut. 

"I stopped once it became obvious that you would never accept." Sherlock took a deep breath. "Saved me the pain of repeated rejection."

"Well, now I've said we could move back."

"Yes, and I've told you it's too late."

"So you're packing up and moving to the suburbs. Running away." Sherlock scoffed. 

"Hardly. Answer this: what's stopped you from moving here with Rose? Let me tell you. Space. Schools. We have enemies, and they all know this address."

"So what's this then, a fresh address to escape your enemies?"

"Think, John! I wanted it for us both."

John stared at Sherlock. "Us both?"

Day 23 - Apology

"So, you're buying this for us to live in as a family?"

"Yes. With the money from 221b and some of," Sherlock swallowed past the lump in his throat as he thought of all the people he'd, they'd lost in the past two years.

"Yeah, I know. I miss them too." 

"I thought it would answer all the reservations that prevented you from accepting my offers. It has space for us all. Cellars to convert into a lab. A study for you. Room for Rose and spares for friends."

"Sherlock,"

"I just wanted to make it easier for you to say yes. So that I could..." Sherlock blinked back the tears that threatened. "I don't want to be alone anymore. I can't." He stood and walked to the window, watching night descend on Baker Street. "I'm sorry," he whispered as the rain on the windows cast shadows like tear tracks. 

"It's me who should be apologising. I should have known that you were struggling. What sort of friend am I?" Sherlock laughed humourlessly. 

"One who never forgives or forgets. Your good opinion, once lost, is lost forever." 

"Trust you to not know anything about the planets but be able to quote from Pride and Prejudice." John's voice came from right behind Sherlock, causing him to turn. "Can I choose my bedroom?"

This is part of a multi-part fic for @calaisreno's May Prompt Challenge. All can be found here at a03!

[strawberrywinter4]

Unleash

Fandom: Sherlock (TV)

Rated: Mature

Tags: BAMF John Watson, Protective John Watson, Doctor John Watson, John Watson Loves Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock Holmes Loves John Watson, Dark Themes, Case Fic, Sherlock Holmes Whump, Hurt Sherlock Holmes, Drugs, Drugging, John Watson to the Rescue, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, First Kiss, Kissing, Rough Kissing

Sherlock touches John’s arm briefly and John’s attention goes back to him instantly. His hand grips Sherlock’s form, bringing him impossibly closer. John presses their heads together, his voice coming to a whisper. “Everything will be okay, darling. I promise. Just hang in there for me. Stay awake.” Darling was on instinct. Really, it’s the only thing that grounds John. Sherlock’s anguished eyes meet John again, though it seems like he’s struggling to do just that.

Read here on ao3.

Tags: @a-victorian-girl @jolieblack @whatnext2020 @helloliriels @colourfulwatson @totallysilvergirl @ninasnakie @thegildedbee @whodwantmeasaflatmate @with-a-ghost-mr-holmes @sherlocknjohn221b @jawnn-watson @blogstandbygo @lisbeth-kk @holmesianlove @7-percent @itsonlytext @chinike @peanitbear @mary-johnlocked @bakerstreetbe @curlyjohnlock @keirgreeneyes @ceceliajupe @ghostofnuggetspast @dw91165 @demonboycrowley

(Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged or wouldn’t like to be tagged.)

Omg, I finally finished it! Thanks to all who encouraged me with BAMF John. It meant so much🥰

[actually-a-girls-name]

just posted my first ever work on ao3!! very short, not perfect but oh does it feel like a victory!

for @calaisreno may prompts, thank you thank you for this btw, it pushed me to create something!

here's the link :)

[lisbeth-kk]

December moments

Prompts used in this chapter: seasonal illness - the Case of the Frozen Corpse - midnight - jolly

What’s worse than an ill doctor, you wonder? I’ll tell you. It’s an ill consulting detective. 

December 15

“I’m dying, John” Sherlock rasps with a hoarse voice. 

“No, you’re not,” John says and places a cold cloth on Sherlock’s hot forehead. 

The great detective is rarely ill, but when he is, his dramatic personae comes forth with full force. He’s got John’s full sympathy, because John hates being ill himself, and he sucks at being a patient. Where John gets grumpy and aggressive, Sherlock whines and gets clingy as a child with separation anxiety. It can be endearing but also utterly taxing. As long as Sherlock’s fever is this high, John’s reluctant to leave him by himself, and has asked Mycroft to get one of his minions to do some shopping. Mrs. Hudson is also under the weather, so John’s included her shopping list too when he texted the older Holmes brother. 

***

When John comes back from checking on their landlady, who doesn’t need a doctor’s attention thank you very much, Sherlock’s dozed off on the sofa. John sighs relieved, finally getting some time to himself. He takes a quick shower and starts to write down their last case on the blog, which he calls The Case of the Frozen Corpse, fully knowing that Sherlock will disapprove.

It never ceases to amaze John how vast Sherlock’s knowledge about obscure establishments and businesses within London is. It had only taken him a glance at the missing man’s correspondence to realise where he was. The butchery hadn’t been mentioned per se; only the word Baron, which evidently was enough for the great detective. 

Close to Baron’s Court was a butchery with a large freezer. After a thorough search, that made all the involved cold to the bone, they’d found the corpse of the missing man. 

Brilliant, as always, John concludes and posts the entry. 

He startles when he hears his name being called. It’s almost midnight and John’s ready for bed and is grateful that he doesn’t have to rouse Sherlock from his sleep. 

“How are you feeling, love?” John asks and kneels in front of the sofa. 

“Still dying, I’m afraid,” Sherlock mutters, but his temperature is more to John’s liking now. 

He’ll probably be fine after a couple of days with enough sleep and rest. 

“Let’s get you to bed, and if you’re a jolly good boy I might read my last blog entry as a bedtime story to you,” John promises. 

It’s clearly too painful to roll his eyes, but Sherlock manages a sound John chooses to interpret as yes, John…

Read it on AO3

@totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @a-victorian-girl @phoenix27884 @helloliriels @safedistancefrombeingsmart @gregorovitchworld @topsyturvy-turtely @sabsi221b @peanitbear @raina-at

[curlyjohnlock]

🌅 MY FANFICS MASTERLIST 🌅

Hello everyone! ❤

I'm curlyjohnlock (but you can call me by my first name, Lisa), and I'm super excited to share my fanfics with you all!! 🎉

I mostly write in the BBC SHERLOCK fandom, and my stories tend to focus on angst, romance/slow burn, whump and sometimes even fluff.

I've been writing stories since I learned how to hold a pen and, for many years, I focused on fandoms like Harry Potter and Sweeney Todd [or something related to Johnny Depp's movies (the fantastic years 2005-2012 🥰)].

At the time I was posting them on another site, but I may decide to expand those stories and maybe bring them to ao3! Who knows!

But anyway! Here’s a little preview of what you’ll find on my ao3 profile:

🔗 curlyjohnlock on ao3

Current Count: 6 stories, 2 series.

♧ Tango Between Broken Hearts

“Sherlock needs to see that there is still something worth fighting for. Otherwise we will lose him forever.” “Are you sure it’s not too soon? What if all this pushes him deeper down?” asked John, quite concerned. Mycroft hesitated, his gaze betraying a hint of concern that he rarely let slip. “At that point, we will have done everything in our power.” John nodded again, determined. “All right, then. I'll be there. I’ll always be there for him.”   Serendipity brought Sherlock and John together, but a terrible incident tore them apart for ten years. Now that fate has thrown that card back across the table for them to play again, they're both carrying the incurable wounds of their past. Will they be able to overcome the past and rediscover the love they once shared, or will half truths and too many lies continue to keep them forever apart?

Word Count: 50k - still posting

Chapters: 13/25

Tags: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Romance, Slow Romance, Angst, Emotional/Hurt Comfort, Bearded John Watson, Happy Ending, Family Secrets, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Introspection, Emotional Roller Coaster

♧ A Soup Is Best Served Warm

Sherlock and John, both feeling a little sickly, find themselves in a situation where each is convinced that the other is the one who is sick and must eat the soup to feel better. Obviously, neither of them really wants to admit that they might actually be the one who’s ill. Mrs. Hudson will make them understand who’s in charge of the whole situation.

Word Count: 4k

Chapters: 1/1

Tags: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Sleepy Kisses, Slice of Life, Romantic Fluff, Cuddles, Sharing a Bed

This one is Part 3 of TUMBLR MADE ME DO IT

♧ A Taste of the Forbidden Fruit

London, 1949. Sherlock Holmes, a young homosexual tormented by the conservative beliefs of his family, seeks comfort in Father Watson, hoping to find refuge from his internal conflicts. But he never expected that the priest would exploit his authority to satisfy his own sexual desires...

Word Count: 4k

Chapters: 1/1

Tags: AU - PRIESTS, Rape/non con elements, angst, Catholicism, religious guilt, emotional hurt, Dark John Watson, Bearded John Watson, abuse of authority

This one is Part 1 of MAY GOD HAVE MERCY ON YOUR SOUL

♧ When We Were Infinite

John made a vow: he promised he would never forget a very special day: the day he married Sherlock. Despite his promise, John's memory begins to fade. As his memory slips further away, Sherlock desperately tries to find any way possible to preserve their precious memories. But, most them, are heartbreaking.

Word Count: 6,5k

Chapters: 1/1

Tags: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Slice of Life, angst, memories, self-hatred, despair, last kiss, major character death, sad and sweet, grief/mourning

♧ Herring Hiccups and Rainy Rambles

In the middle of a raging thunderstorm, Sherlock finds himself trapped in 221b. It would be a great occasion to have some peace of mind, but Rosie isn't of the same opinion.

Word Count: 3,5k

Chapters: 1/1

Tags: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, moonlight, cute ending, family, fluff, parentlock, sherlock holmes has feelings

This one is Part 2 of TUMBLR MADE ME DO IT

♧ Tea, Butts and Sherlock's Doctoring Disaster

An unexpected event disturbs John's ordinary life. It isn't a case, a criminal, or Sherlock. No, it's something entirely different and, dare we say, discomfortingly ordinary: constipation.

And Sherlock finds the right solution for it.

Word Count: 1,5k

Chapters: 1/1

Tags: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, missing moments, season 1, awkward sexual situations, enemas, fluff, hurt/comfort

This one is Part 1 of TUMBLR MADE ME DO IT

[picklesgrowontrees]

I NEED HELP FINDING A FIC

Omg please help i suddenly remembered this gorgeous masterpiece. It was a Johnlock fic, and set during/after The Great Game, specifically the pool scene. Basically the whole thing was that John started noticing leaking in their flat and throughout the story more and more water kept coming through and it turned out that they both died in the explosion and the story was just John’s imagination, and Sherlock (in his mind) had known all along but didn’t tell him. It was so beautifully written and it made me cry but I can’t find it anywhere. I’m pretty sure it was on Ao3.

Please if anyone knows about it let me know!!

[gregorovitch-adler]

So, back with another series!

Title: Ficlet collection from Tumblr (May Prompts)

I'll be reposting my drabbles/ficlets from here on AO3 based on the May Prompts provided by notjustamumj.

Lilac : (Rating- G) Summary- It's not purple. It's lilac. There's a difference. (271 words)

Scarf: (Rating- T) Summary- Home is where the heart is. John's heart happened to had found a place in a certain scarf. (543 words)

Polaris: (Rating- G) Summary- Everyone needs a reminder that they are loved and wanted by someone. John is no exception to that. (615 words)

Burnt: (Rating-M) Summary- Amazing how fire exposes our priorities. (2584 words)

(I'll keep updating this post as I post new ficlets on Tumblr. Till then, check these out! Thanks for reading. 😊)

[dinner--starving]

How is it to be in the shoes of John Watson around Sherlock Holmes, you ask?

I had the privilege of experiencing it! And oh boy was it good.

Thanks to my hyper active brain that has a feature film running under The Dream Production Studios every night of my life without fail.

I turned the dream into a ficlet :)

[helloliriels]

✍️ May Masterpost 2024

Saving a MASTERPOST for returning to these delicious fics, ficlets, limericks, and more inspired by @calaisreno 's prompt list. Most have made it to the AO3 collection (linked), but also (more ... much, much, more!!!) findable on their Tumblr pages:

✨ Open Your Eyes by @jrow : John fell and Sherlock's about to fall apart.

✨ Come What May by @weeesi : Ficlets, 221Bs, no particular theme or timeline, mostly johnlock.

✨ Ravelling by @calaisreno : Sherlock ruins John's favourite jumper. To make amends, he secretly learns to knit and replaces it.

✨ Trifles 3 by @calaisreno : A 3rd series of drabbles, 221Bs, flashfics, mini-epics, written in response to one-word prompts.

✨ Screw Spring, May is for Limericks by @ghostofnuggetspast

✨ 2024 May Prompts from @ Calais_Reno by @thegildedbee

✨ May Has 31 Days by @bs2sjh : What if one day everything changed? 31 - 221Bs shorts 

✨ MayPrompts2024 by @starkraivennemad : All 31 of them in list order.

✨ Sandbox by @copperplatebeech : Playing in the Johnlock sandbox for May.

✨ The Perfect Place by @meetinginsamarra : Bed shop boys, actually ... 😏😎 Sherlock needs a flatmate and already has the perfect person in mind.

✨ White Pony Tattoo by @meetinginsamarra : John Watson needs a tattoo covered up. Sherlock Holmes is one of the best artists in London.

✨ May Prompts 2024 Ficlets by @raina-at : A collection of stand-alone ficlets I wrote for the Tumblr May challenge.

✨ There Once Was a Man Lived in London by @friday411 : A limerick for each of the 31 daily prompts for the challenge + 1. plus Sherlockian Limericks of Dubious Memory to be ongoing ...

✨ The Luckiest Girl in the World by @lisbeth-kk : Rosie thinks back to the day her and John's life changed because of Sherlock Holmes.

✨ You're Not Designed to be Alone by @thalialunacy : A journey from friends to more, told in bite-sized pieces.

✨ May is for Limericks by @helloliriels : Johnlocked angst. Sorry!

✨ One More Time (with Feeling) by helloliriels for @totallysilvergirl : Sherlock gets help with a do-over ... from another doctor!

✨ Home by @actually-a-girls-name : ficlets for May Prompts 2024 

✨ May Prompts by @peanitbear : Sherlock's past closed his heart. Will it ever open again?

✨ Plant's May Prompts 2024 by @solarmama-plantsareneat

✨ Penitence by @naefelldaurk : John and Sherlock find a way forward.

✨ + 26 Ficlets posted to the collection by @amypihcs !!!

✨ Updates! to The Private Personal Blog of Dr. John H. Watson by @deelaundry and;

✨ Sharing is Caring and Choice by @dragonnan : John takes care of a sick Sherlock. And when Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson first met.

✨ Hungerford Bride by @jolieblack : "We're chained to a boat?"

✨ Love Over Gold by @rudbeckiasunflower : 221B format ficlets

✨ Whatever Remains by @ snowy_firewind : A series of drabbles

✨ Kaiju AU for May Prompts so far posted, here by @keirgreeneyes : with links to the prior posts!

✨ Calm (Andante, andante) by @ohwhataniight : It finally happens on their holiday. 

And I know a ton of you haven't added yours to the collection yet (looking at you @totallysilvergirl ...) cause I don't see 'em here!! haha 💕feel free to link/reblog with! - Liri

[topsyturvy-turtely]

(Rosie's) Elephant in the Room

Fandom: Sherlock (TV)

Words: 4491 (on ao3)

Summary: John Watson loves Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock Holmes loves John Watson. John Watson’s daughter loves her giant elephant plushie.

This is the story how the two men finally jump over their shadows and confess their feelings. All because of an elephant plushie.

---

Rosamund Mary Watson owned one thing she was incredibly proud of: her gigantic elephant plushie.

Name: Ellie Phant Astic

Gender: female

Age: 1 year 24 weeks and 5 days

Material: very soft fabric

Strengths: very good at hugging and listening. The best plushie in the whole wide world.

Weaknesses: shy, not talkative (only talks to Rosie Watson).

“Hi, Rosie, sweetie. What are you writing down?”, her dad (John Watson) asked, as he dropped his bag to the floor after he came home from work.

“Key data of Ellie Phant Astic. Look!”, proudly the girl showed off her scrawly handwriting to her dad, who squated down to kiss his daughter’s top of the head and review her professional plush toy data. Seven years old, exceedingly smart and good at social interactions as long as it only includes herself, her way too big elephant plushie and family, Rosie reminded John more of Sherlock than of himself. Writing down key data of a plush toy? Definitely a thing Sherlock did as a kid!

“Wow, that’s truly elephant-astic”, John joked and winked. Rosie giggled.

“I believe you call that a dad-joke, John”, Sherlock said leaning in the door frame, dressing gown over his sweatpants and a white T-shirt and a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Well,” John stood up and his spine made a clicking noise. “I am a dad, so I am allowed to make those.” John smiles. “How was your day with the little one?”

“Oh, it was quite ‘elephant-astic’, wouldn’t you agree, Watson?”, he said, making air-quotes when saying the really not that funny word.

Enthusiastically Rosie nodded her head. “Yessss! Phantie and Lock and me went to the pond in the park and fed the ducks and then we came home and played Cluedo and then I had to go down to Granny, because Lock was angry, because he wasn’t playing according to the rules but that’s okay because Phantie, Granny and I made cookies and they were delicious and I ate soooo much!”

“That sounds like quite a busy day, Rosie. But, I suggest you don’t play Cluedo with Lock anymore, he is extremely bad at it.”, the doctor said with a smirk directed at his flatmate.

Rosie laughed, looked at the tall detective, then at the 3 foot stuffed animal and finally whispered into John’s ear, “Phantie agrees.”

Knowing full well his Watsons were whispering and giggling over him, Sherlock countered, “I am not bad at Cluedo. This game is simply illogical.”

“Yeah, sure it is, Sherlock.”, John said and Rosie fell into a giggling fit. With a pout, Sherlock turned around and walked back into the kitchen.

Still smiling, John turned to Rosie. “I’ll be taking a shower and be right down. Will you be alright with Mr. Pouty-Face over there?”

Giggling, Rosie nodded and pointed at the giant elephant next to her, “Phantie and I can handle him.”

“Probably even better than I can, sweetheart.”, John said, gave Rosie another kiss and left to take a shower.

Upstairs John was overwhelmed by the chaotic mess of a room screaming at him. He used to have a very tidy room, apart from the occasional pants or jumper laying one day too long on the floor. That had changed when Rosie came and Mary had died. John had moved back in with Sherlock and was since then sharing his room with a little girl: Plushies everywhere, pirate costumes over his bed, a magnifying glass with a bunch of sheets with a kid’s colourful handwriting, on and around the desk. The closet door wide open, half of the clothes falling out.

This room was getting definitely too small for a little girl living her wildest dreams. Let alone a little girl and her father. Said girl wasn’t even that little anymore. They had two small singles now, instead of the queen sized bed, because Rosie was kicking like crazy in her sleep. John’s nightmares had gotten better with her close to him, but on bad nights he had to sleep on the couch downstairs, as to not disturb her. Or blankly stare onto the ceiling hoping sleep would make John its slave at some point. Thankfully Rosie slept like a stone most days.

And as much as it pained him and would for sure pain his daughter: John would have to move out soon, if he ever wanted to live like a grown man again. If he ever wanted Rosie to become not dependent on her father. They both needed their own space. For their own sakes.

John sighed, grabbed some fresh clothes and left the messy room to take a shower. Tomorrow. He would tell Sherlock they’d move out tomorrow.

Continue on Ao3 ;)

[bs2sjh]

May 11 - Secret

Thanks for all the wonderful comments, threats, tears and bills for counselling. For those just finding these for the first time, this is a May-long multi-part fic, so there are a whole 10 days of micro-fics to read as well as this! All the other parts can be found here!

Some of you might have noticed the pattern that we're alternating between John and Sherlock. Some of you might also have noticed that they're not travelling in the same direction time-wise. All will be revealed, I hope, at some point before May 31st.

Anyway, enjoy some more angst and unhappiness. And happy Saturday!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

As the door banged shut, announcing Lestrade's departure, Sherlock considered the conversation they had started the evening with. Surely, his closest friend couldn't fail to spot what all the other people in his life knew full well to be the case. It wasn't as if he was keeping it a secret. 

He's lonely. 

For two years, he's lived in the house left to him by his oldest friend all by himself. There is no noise coming from downstairs anymore, no interruptions of tea and chatter. He goes to bed in the oppressive silence and wakes up to the same. And it's killing him. 

Then there are the memories—ghosts of a past self, of laughter and life and fun, of mysteries and excitement. It isn't like that now. John rarely helps with cases anymore. Celebratory takeaway and crap TV are long gone. It's good when John and Rose visit, but they always leave again. The silence swallowing him. 

Sherlock isn't a loner. Ever since his time away, working to single-handedly bring down Moriarty, he's needed company. He might not talk for days on end, but he needs life around him so that he can feel tethered to reality, to know that his sacrifice was worth it, that everyone was saved. 

To know he's home and safe. 

But home is no longer 221b. 

For @calaisreno's May Prompt Challenge.

[strawberrywinter4]

i saw your post about prompts!

and ooo maybe something related to sherlock's growing/settling relationship with rosie as she grows into a teen and john realising that she's much more alike mary than she thinks when she gets upset that she can't remember much about her mother. the men help her see that.

Like Mother, Like Daughter

Fandom: Sherlock (TV)

Relationship: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson & Rosie Watson

Rating: General Audience

Tags: Established Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Post Season/Series 04, Father-Daughter Relationship, Rosie is a teenager, Teen attitude, Parentlock, Post Mary Morstan, Angst, Fluff

Thank you so, so much for this prompt, anon! I’m so sorry I didn’t get to it sooner and you were one of my first people to send in prompts. I hope this is to your liking❤️❤️

*•*•*•*

Something’s different about Rosie today, John can tell.

Maybe it’s the unsaid sense of a father or maybe it’s because the teen has displayed a frown since the moment she woke up.

John remembers wishing Rosie a good day at school when he dropped her off, students hurrying to get to their first class.

Rosie, however, only stared at the ground, ignoring John. Her blue eyes were blank, her jaw tense.

John blinked, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Hey.”

Rosie’s eyelashes fluttered as she turned to John. “Yeah?”

“You alright?”

She shrugged, and John was only happy it wasn’t an eye roll as well, a pair of gestures that the teen had acquired as the years went on. “M’fine, Dad,” she dismissed, carrying her bag and leaving John’s side before John could say anything else.

“Her menstrual cycle, maybe?” Sherlock had suggested back at 221B when John voiced his concerns. “Did she seem irate?”

“No,” John had said. “Well—god, I don’t even know. Maybe? Just… down, I guess.”

Sherlock came up behind John and soothed a loose hair on the doctor’s head. “Ask her when she gets home, then.”

John snorted. “You know how to deal with her best. You ask her.”

“John,” Sherlock said, sending him a pointed look. “Talk to her.”

The conversation replays in John’s head as he and Rosie walk home, their steps in sync.

Rosie has just turned 14, and her attitude certainly shows it. John finds that his daughter has obtained his obvious anger issues. That can cause some arguments to take place, as much as John wishes it didn’t. Or maybe it’s because she’s around the snarky detective, catching on to his sass.

John sighs through his nose. He hopes not.

Before they enter the flat, John stops her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “Rosie, wait.”

Rosie stops, turning to him with a stiff shrug. “Yeah?”

John turns his head. “You sure you’re alright, darling?”

Rosie’s still for too long, her eyes never leaving John’s. “I told you, I’m fine,” she says.

“Right, well, you say that, but you don’t seem like it.”

Rosie scoffs. “Well, I don’t know what you want me to do about it. This is how I act.”

John grits his teeth. “Not usually. Usually you don’t give me an attitude.”

“I’m not giving you an attitude. I’m talking.”

John laughs humorlessly. “Rosie, this isn’t talking. This is starting an argument.”

This time, Rosie rolls her eyes. “God, I can’t get anything through with you!”

And to John’s great surprise, she barges through the door and practically stomps up the stars. John waits for another moment and soon, he registers a door slamming.

John sighs in frustration and heads up to 221B as well in a much calmer fashion. Once he steps into the living room to the flat, Sherlock turns to him where he’s conducting an experiment on the kitchen counter.

“Not good, then?” the detective asks with a quirk of a brow.

John runs a hand over his face. “No. No, not good.”

“She doesn’t like when you’re snarky back,” Sherlock murmurs, flicking a glass tube with his fingers to allow more water flow.

“I wasn’t- look, she has to learn how to dial down that attitude,” John says, leaning on the frame of the entrance to the kitchen. “I swear, it’s almost like arguing with you.”

“No. It’s like arguing with you,” Sherlock corrects. “Or Mary. Really, I can see both of you in her quite clearly.”

John grits his teeth at the comment. He looks up at the bedroom, the shut door displaying unwelcomeness. John steps forward. “Maybe I should-”

“Don’t,” Sherlock says, his eyes still on the tube. “Give her time. Allow her to cool off.”

John clenches his jaw, then nods curtly. “Yeah. Right, erm-”

In a swift movement, Sherlock turns on the stool, taking John’s sides and bringing him closer so that he’s able to stand between his legs. John releases a quiet sigh of relief at the feel of Sherlock’s hands at his sides, soothing him.

“In the research I’ve done, teenagers are prone to get angry easier,” Sherlock says.

“You’ve done research?”

“Shut up. What I’m saying is, just… be patient with her, I suppose. If you two keep bickering back and forth, it will be to no end.”

John stares at Sherlock, unable to take his eyes off this wonderful, brilliant man in front of him. “I love you,” John breathes.

Sherlock grins. “I know.”

___

Two hours pass, maybe three. John is jittering in his chair, and Sherlock is browsing his (John’s) computer leisurely for a case.

John nods, making a decision. “Right. I’m gonna go talk to her.” He stands and Sherlock’s deep voice catches him.

“Calmly,” Sherlock warns, not looking up from the screen.

John opens his mouth to say something, then decides to simply settle for a nod.

Two steps at a time, he heads up the stairs. For a while, he just stands there, fist hesitantly nearing the wooden door.

He takes a deep breath, then knocks.

Nothing.

He knocks again.

John can hear an annoyed breath from the other end of the room. Soon, Rosie opens the door, her eyes expectant. “Yes?” she asks.

John gestures into the room. “May I come in, your majesty?”

Rosie fights a grin, but quickly hides it as she steps aside. “If you want.”

John comes in and briefly admires Rosie’s room. The design has changed over the years. It used to be John’s old room and it was quite bland, but as Rosie’s gotten older, John has encouraged her to decorate it how she pleases. Now there are a few posters of celebrities (that Sherlock rolls his eyes at) and John catches that there’s even a poster of James Bond.

John’s heart swells. He made sure to introduce Rosie to the Bond films at an early age and, together, they’ve made it a tradition to have a movie night at least once a year to binge watch the films. At first, Sherlock refused to partake in it. But when Rosie gave him her big blue eyes, silently pleading that he join them, Sherlock sighed in defeat, taking a seat next to them on the sofa.

John sucks in a breath, breaking his thoughts. He turns to Rosie, his eyes now filling with concern. “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong now?”

Rosie looks down, fiddling her fingers. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Rosie,” John says gently. “Come on. You don’t have to lie about this.”

Rosie stares at him, then seems to make a decision. She goes across the room, opening a drawer and pulling out a deck of photographs.

John doesn’t have to see them to know what they are.

“I didn’t mean to snoop,” Rosie claims nervously, stepping forward as she looks down at the pictures of her mother on her wedding day. “But… I mean- I saw the photo album in the corner of your room and- and I couldn’t help but look… keep them. I promise I’ll put them all back, but I just wanted to look, and-”

“Rosie,” John says. He sighs, putting a hand on her shoulder. “It’s alright, darling. It- I knew you’d be curious someday.”

Rosie released a trembling breath. John’s heart breaks. “Why don’t we talk about Mum?” she asks.

John bites down hard on his inner cheek. “You know it’s a sensitive subject. You know how she died.”

“But that doesn’t mean we can’t talk about her,” Rosie counters, her voice cracking.

John squeezes her shoulder, then leads them both to sit on the bed. “I know,” he says. “I know and I’m… so sorry. I just- there’s so much about your mother that- that’s not… I just don’t want you to see her in a bad light.”

“Then… at least tell me if- if I’m like her,” Rosie pleads.

“Oh, darling, of course you are,” John reassures. “You’re a spitting image of her.”

“Could you just- tell me about her? Tell me what she’s like?”

“Well, she was-”

“I want Sherlock to be here,” Rosie interrupts, her eyes desperate.

John pauses. He quickly recovers and nods. “Yeah… yeah, ‘course.”

Just then, Sherlock opens the door. He sniffs and John frowns. “You summoned me,” Sherlock says as he shuts the door behind him.

“Sherlock, how many times do I have to remind you not to listen in on conversations?” John says with gritted teeth as Rose laughs.

“You can hardly blame me, John,” Sherlock defends as he sits on the other side of Rosie.

“I can and I most certainly will.”

Sherlock’s eyes focus on Rosie. “What would you like to know?”

Rosie looks down as she thinks. “It’s selfish.”

“Bee,” Sherlock says in the soft voice he only reserves for Rosie and John. “Nothing you can say is selfish. You have every right to know. I was wondering when you’d bring the topic up.”

Rosie sighs. “Anything, really. I want… I want to know if I’m like her at all or- just anything.”

John can’t help but give a small smile. “You have her stubbornness,” he says. “I think that’s the main thing. I swear, sometimes you talk just like her.”

“You have her energy,” Sherlock continues, and John wants to kiss the man for being such a wonderful sport. He knows Sherlock still feels inexplicable guilt, even as they’ve progressed their relationship into a couple. He knows Sherlock has a difficult time talking about the subject, but the fact that he talks about it like it’s the easiest thing in the world when someone brings Mary up… John loves him. “She was quite the lively woman.”

“You’re clever,” John says, his voice now a whisper. “She was intelligent, could always see through a lie and had a lense of reality.”

Rosie looks like she’s on the verge of tears. Sherlock rubs her back. “What is it?” the detective asks.

“No, no, it’s just…” She lets out a long breath. “Everyone at school always talks about their mothers. And- And that made me more upset that I couldn’t relate to them.” A small smile forms on Rosie’s lips. “I’m glad I can… that I can learn about Mum. And just knowing that I’m somewhat like her-” Rosie sniffles, smiling through her tears. “It makes me so happy.”

John pulls Rosie in for a tight hug, striving not to shed tears himself. He kisses her blonde curls. “You’re a lot more like her than you think. She’ll always be a part of you and I want you to never forget that.”

Sherlock seems hesitant on joining in on the affection, but Rosie huffs and pulls him in by his arm sleeve. “‘Lock, get in here.”

Sherlock chuckles at the nickname and joins in, wrapping his long arms around the both of them.

They stay like that for a while, just the three of them.

*•*•*•*

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[actually-a-girls-name]

Second chance

Another little fic is up! For @calaisreno may prompts but better late than never I guess :)

read and/or comment here on ao3

Prompt: Do-over // Words: about 1k

Royal Air Force Northolt, London.

A white jet waits ready on an otherwise empty runway. Five people are standing next to a black car, few meters away from the engine. Everything else is grey and green. Some words and embraces are exchanged quickly, then three of them step away, leaving the other two standing face to face. The man on the right is tall, he has dark curly hair and is wearing a long coat and a blue scarf over a tailored suit. The other one is shorter and thicker, he has sandy hair and is wearing a pair of jeans and a black jacket over a creased shirt. Few words are exchanged again before the silence settles and stretches.

The atmosphere is thick and the sun doesn’t quite reach through the clouds. The short one rocks on his toes a few times, looking at the ground while the taller man swipes the place around with his gaze out of focus.

Dr John Watson and Sherlock Holmes. Saying goodbye.

Watson takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders.

       “I used to go to your grave a lot you know.”

Holmes looks back at his companion’s face and waits.

       “To talk,” he adds. “I could never say what I really wanted to but I’d go there anyway, and it felt like you could hear me. Even after you came back to life I went a few times.”

Sherlock opens his mouth slightly, but the doctor cuts him before he can interrupt.

       “Let me finish.” He takes another deep breath and casts his gaze into the detective’s. “I went back because I was trying to remember how I wished I was braver when you were alive. I thought – when you were gone – that, if I had the occasion, I would be able to say it to you because the alternative was not… bearable. But then you did come back, and I was too angry and too hurt. And after that I became too afraid, and… and I was never bra–” his voice breaks but he fights through– “I was never brave enough.”

Few seconds pass, their heartbeats seem loud in the silence.

       “I’m sorry, Sherlock,” John adds, almost whispering now.

Sherlock swallows hard, his eyes are glistening.

      “What is it that you wanted to say?”

      “You see even now I… I can’t. And what would be the fucking point anyway?”

His voice is higher than usual.

      “Please.”

He closes his eyes before raising his head and opening them again.

      “I love you, Sherlock. As in I am in love with you. I think I always have been and always will.”

He nods then and watches with his jaw clenched the reaction of his friend. Sherlock lets out a shaky breath, his lips quivering. His face crumbles a bit, and his shoulders fall slightly. He shakes his head.

      “I should be the one apologizing, John. I love you and have so desperately for so long. I should have told you, I just didn’t… I didn’t know how to and if…” he trails off, his voice shaking. “I could not bear the thought of losing you,” he adds, regaining a bit of composure as he plunges his eyes into his partner’s.

John turns his head to look around, desperately trying to push back tears. Sherlock reaches for his hand and holds it gently.

      “You would not have lost me,” he finally replies in a murmur.

      “I know that now. I’m sorry.”

      “No, don’t be…”

John’s gaze drops to look at their fingers intertwined and they both stay still for a moment. When he looks up again, his face is steadier.

      “I know you don’t do vows but can you… can you promise me you’ll come back? You’ll come back and this time I will be waiting for you. I promise I will. And we’ll have a do-over, a proper second chance! No more time wasted, what do you say?”

      “What about Mary?”

      “I’ll sort it out. She’ll survive.”

      “And the baby?”

      “I will still be her father – God I’m not used to this word in my mouth yet… And I hope I’ll be a good one. We’ll manage, Sherlock, if you’re ready to welcome her in your life too… I mean if you want to...”

      “Of course I do,” he cuts. “I’ll be happy to. And there is nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for you, you do know that by now, don’t you?”

      “Start by staying alive.”

Sherlock smiles softly and nods.

      “Promise me?”

      “John, I…”

      “No, you don’t understand, please Sherlock.”

Holmes' deep blue eyes stare at him. They are wet with tears but the man remains silent.

      “I need you,” he adds desperately.

      “And I you.” Sherlock squeezes lightly his friend’s fingers in his. John clasps it with both his hands and presses harder. “I’ll do my best.”

      Watson shakes his head, “not enough.”

      “It will have to be, John,” the detective replies gently, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyebrows are raised in a silent plea.

John closes his eyes, still refusing to let the tears fall, and inhales slowly. When he opens them again, he looks resigned.

      “Ok.”

Sherlock right hand join the others and he delicately rubs his thumb against John’s skin.

      “If you let me hold you I will never let you go,” the doctor states softly.

      “Ok, then better not,” Holmes replies, smiling tenderly as his eyes implore him to do it anyway.

      “Yeah, it wouldn’t look right to battle Mycroft to death I suppose.”

They both chuckle lightly. John doesn’t hold him.

      “No, it wouldn’t,” the detective conceals.

Another silence stretches out and John breaks it again.

      “Ok, go then,” he says, forcing a little smile as his eyes are begging him not to.

The sky is low and heavy on the tarmac. They part reluctantly, left only with the cruel ghost of each other’s warmth where their hands had met. Sherlock doesn’t stay. He turns away and climbs the stairs without looking back. John follows him with his eyes until he disappears through the door. Alone again. But who leaves and who stays, it doesn't really matter, he thinks then. Because, between the two of them, damned be anyone knowing where one ends and the other begins.

Their hearts beat and break the same anyway.

[lisbeth-kk]

December moments

Prompts used in this chapter: post-holiday blues - "Thank God that's over"

John always gets post-holiday blues after Boxing Day, but an unexpected visit, brightens his mood. The jury’s still out regarding Sherlock’s reaction to said visit

December 27

He wakes up alone, and his stomach clenches. It’s the same every year. Once Boxing Day is over, John’s post-holiday blues arrive. He’d thought it would be different this year, when his dream had come true, having Sherlock’s love, sharing his bed every night, but apparently not. Perhaps it wouldn’t have felt this awful if Sherlock still was sleeping beside him, but he isn’t. John buries his face in his pillow and tries to take deep breaths to keep the tears at bay, but he doesn’t succeed. 

Last night had been the most passionate, tender and fucking amazing night of his life. A begging Sherlock on his knees while John was rimming him until he gave in and entered Sherlock’s body deliciously slow and was rewarded with the most exquisite sounds from his lover, which almost tipped John over the edge before they’d begun. 

And now he lies alone in bed close to sobbing because of…what exactly? He’s engaged to the love of his life, he’s got the next days off work, and he and Sherlock are going on a trip to fulfill Sherlock’s secret wish in January. 

John’s been so lost in his own misery that he hasn’t heard footsteps approaching the bed, and startles when the mattress dips and a warm hand is placed on his shoulder. 

“John. What is it?” Sherlock asks. 

The worry in his voice is evident and John turns on to his back facing him. Sherlock’s thumb wipes away a tear and frowns. 

“Only the usual mood, which I thought would leave me alone this year, truth be told. There’s no need for me to feel like this when I have you in my life. Do you have a kiss for me?”

Sherlock’s features soften and he doesn’t waste any time responding. 

***

The text from Greg after breakfast, puzzles John

Is it okay if I come over around 1 pm? No case, just a social call. 

Sherlock just shrugs when John asks if he has any objections to Greg’s unprecedented inquiry. Luckily, they have some of Mrs. Hudson’s delicious biscottis left, and the special hazelnut-scented coffee they received from Sherlock’s parents will be a nice addition. 

John has changed into the midnight-blue shirt Sherlock gifted him, and the detective himself, is impeccably dressed in dark blue suit trousers and a crisp white shirt with straining buttons. A jolt of desire runs down John’s spine by the very sight and he wants nothing more than to walk over to Sherlock and snog him senseless, but steps on the stairs stop him. 

“When did you give Greg a key?” John asks Sherlock. 

“I didn’t,” Sherlock answers with narrowed eyes before he collapses into his chair, muttering his brother’s name. 

And seconds later Greg and said brother stand in the doorway. Greg seems a bit nervous, and when John realises what’s going on, Sherlock has glared, huffed and scoffed for several seconds. 

“You can close your mouth now, if you don’t have anything to communicate, Doctor Watson,” Mycroft says haughtily. 

“Mycroft,” Greg hisses

The resemblance to how John scolds Sherlock when he behaves inappropriately is uncanny. John can’t hold back anymore, and when he meets Sherlock’s eyes, John’s done for. He laughs whole-heartedly and Sherlock joins him with his dark rumble. It takes a while before they remember their visitors, who have taken matters into their own hands and serve the coffee and biscuits with slightly blushing faces.

***  

“Thank God that’s over,” Sherlock states when Mycroft and Greg have left. 

“It wasn’t that bad,” John protests. “Did you know they were an item?”

“Not per se, but I observed that Mycroft greeted Lestrade with his first name at our Christmas party, and that struck me as a bit strange considering that he rarely uses your given name,” Sherlock says.

“Right. Well, I never saw that coming, but I guess it’s no weirder than the two of us being romantically involved,” John muses. 

“John! Don’t you dare compare what we have with what my brother and Graham are up to,” Sherlock blurts out and makes a total mess of his hair in his agitation. 

John straddles Sherlock’s thighs with a gleeful expression and gives in to the temptation from earlier, which effectively puts a stop to Sherlock’s reflections regarding his brother’s love life. 

Read it on AO3

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[weeesi]

Pride - May Prompts (31)

Huge thanks to @calaisreno for organising this brilliant community event! It's been a wonderful month full of laughter and tears and just about the most fun I've had in a long time. Thank you, everyone!

+

John weaves through the crowd, a sweating bottle of water in each hand. The day is bright and cloudless and absolutely boiling. He swipes the back of his wrist over the sheen on his brow and spots the top of Sherlock’s head, half-hidden behind a couple stood together across the street. 

That looks like…oh my god—

He hurries over. He wasn’t in bomb disposal, but across the years he’s gained plenty of practice of a similar sort. 

Sherlock’s face inhabits an expression completely new. It’s remarkable. 

And that’s not the least of it.

Mycroft is wearing a vest. 

And shorts.

“Alright, mate?” Lestrade greets John amiably. “This one could use a look-over,” he adds with a wink in Sherlock’s direction. “Might need to restart his heart.”

Mycroft is as pink and pinched as a summer prawn with a smear of suncream on his nose. “Hello, John. We were just—chatting.”

John grins. “You’ve short-circuited him.” He holds out a bottle for Sherlock, then cracks the seal on his own. “Nice togs. First time at Pride, you two?”

“Why are you here?” Sherlock pipes up, eyes narrowed in suspicion at his eternal foe.

“Isn’t it obvious, little brother?”

“Spying on us?”

“Hardly.”

“…Sentiment.”

“The word you’re looking for,” Mycroft lifts his chin, confident as John has ever seen him, “is love.”

+

If you like what you see (lol), come say hello on ao3! These little ficlets are included in Calais' May Prompts collection. I have around 250K more words of johnlock too. I'd love to see you there :D

Thank you to @calaisreno for the fun prompt series! Tags in replies. Thanks for reading! <3