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lilietherly · 2 years ago

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[Fanfic! Mystrade Victoriano]

Relación establecida.

Pensamientos (lujuriosos) intrucivos.

R18 (por recuerdos e imágenes mentales explícitas).

Alfa Mycroft/Omega Greg. (Pero Greg no aparece aquí).

Alfa Sherlock.

(Intento de) Humor.

Finalmente me decidí por Mystrade 😌, como dije en el post de hace un par de días, es muy seguro que todas las ships de las que escribo pasen por un tema así, no obstante, creo que es genial que Mystrade sea la primera, ¡y eso que aún no escribo un smut completo de estos dos! Lo haré, de eso no hay duda, pero ese no es el punto jajaa 😆

Ok, no escribiré mucho porque espero que mis etiquetas de allá arriba te hayan llamado suficiente la atención como para saltarte esto si agrego más 😏, así que solo me disculparé por los errores de ortografía y ya, ¡espero que te guste! 😈

* * *

Por décima ocasión, Mycroft se volvió hacia el reloj en la esquina de su escritorio. Todavía eran las tres de la tarde, aparentemente cada esfuerzo mental en adelantar las horas que aún tenía de trabajo seguía sin dar resultados positivos. Así como el reporte frente a él no mostraba ningún avance de querer completarse por la mera voluntad de los deseos de Mycroft. El calor aumentaba su irritación, y el viento y la suave lluvia del exterior poco hacían para darle un motivo de que fuera a cambiar; su piel se derretiría tarde o temprano… lo deseó con fuerza. No obstante, un minuto después mucho se sorprendió de mantenerse vivo, aunque no tan estable como le gustaría.

Las frías corrientes que entraban en su oficina y que desde hace mucho apagaron el fuego de la chimenea no ayudaban a estabilizar nada. Las manos de Mycroft seguían temblando, su respiración carecía de compás o profundidad, sus piernas lo derribarían si intentara forzarlas a erguirse y sus ojos, atraídos al reloj, abandonaron cualquier motivo para enfocarse en un objeto diferente entre él y los pañuelos perfectamente doblados que descansaban en el diván, sobre un cojín y dentro de una cajita de cristal medio abierta, junto a la ventana. Cada inhalación, aunque dolorosa por la baja temperatura, traía consigo un sutil aroma a Omega. Su Omega.

Su Omega que, comprensivo como ninguno, aceptó dejarlo ir aquella mañana aun considerando la precaria situación, sabiendo de antemano cuánto Holmes haría por su trabajo. En realidad, ninguno lucho demasiado, ni por quedarse en casa ni por ir a cumplir con el horario laboral. Mycroft podía soportarlo todavía, su concentración era la clave y los pañuelos con la esencia de su Omega el último recurso. Tenía dos semanas para que el orden de las esferas políticas se mantuviera estable durante su celo y, por cuanto resultase una absoluta distracción, lo cumpliría como cada cuatro meses.

En la actualidad, a dos o tres días de entrar a plenitud en ello, casi todos los preparativos estaban completados. Nada impedía, naturalmente, que sin importar los preparativos y toda acción repetida puntualmente acorde a la fecha en su calendario, la situación se hiciera menos difícil de concluir. Ahí estaba él, obligándose a permanecer en su asiento y permanecer ahí hasta que la necesidad se hiciera insoportable y ni siquiera su ejercitado autocontrol bastara para no arrojarse a la cajita de cristal. Habiendo cedido a abrirla y colocarla en donde toda corriente de aire le llevaría el aroma, debía, contra toda hirviente necesidad, contenerse. Una gota de sudor resbaló por su sien y poco tardó en limpiarla, el simple hecho de pensar un minuto en algo relacionado a su Omega traía consigo el comienzo de una erección.

Si no hallaba algo para distraerse, y quedaba ya sentado que nada referente al trabajo sería suficiente, sepultaría su voluntad, atrayéndolo hacia los pañuelos. Recordó la forma en que los obtuvo, sosteniendo a Greg contra su pecho y sobre sus muslos, de costado, con un pañuelo en su pequeño polla y el otro entre la raja de sus nalgas generosas; lo masturbó tortuosamente rápido durante el tiempo que debería ocupar en vestirse. La sedosa tela resguardando la esencia del lubricante natural y el semen fue doblada y puesta al resguardo con devoción en la pequeña caja hecha a la medida, construida con ese único propósito.

No iba a soportar así el resto del día. No cuando debería estar con su Omega, cuidándolo y proporcionándole cuantas cosas hicieran falta para que les construyera un nido adecuado, asegurándose de que habría comida, almacenando mantas, almohadas y toallas; colmándose de dulce aroma Omega y prometiéndole diez intensos días de placer donde se esforzaría en llenarlo de cachorros y… Mycroft tuvo la fuerza golpear la cabeza contra el escritorio, deteniendo con eficacia cualquier idea inconveniente. Con los ojos cerrados tomó un par de frías inhalaciones, una vez logró concentrarse descubrió que había arruinado entre sus manos el trabajo en el que tanto esfuerzo invirtió.

De cualquier manera, probablemente nada en él guardaba un ápice de sentido.

Terminó de arrugar el papel, lanzándolo a la chimenea, el punto blanco en el fondo negro lo ayudó a concentrarse. Pasados tres minutos se juzgó con la voluntad necesaria para zanjar las últimas tareas, aún debía responder media docena de cartas, verificar que algunas gráficas coincidieran con sus números y escribir tres reportes distintos al respecto. Después, una vez estuviera libre durante los próximos quince días, aún no se permitiría ir a casa. Su Omega no estaría y Mycroft debía encargarse de que tendrían lo necesario para enfocarse en lo que de verdad importaba: mantener a Greg desnudo, abierto, lubricado y dispuesto durante días, preparado y rogando por su gran…

—¡Señor Holmes! —Mycroft no pudo agradecer la interrupción, sin embargo lo hizo, de lo contrario habría tenido que hacerse un nuevo huevo de ganso en la cabeza. Un par de personas corrían hacia su puerta, reconoció a ambos de inmediato y sonrió. Se tomó su tiempo reordenándose el cabello para cubrir la hinchazón de su frente y la desesperación de no saber qué hacer con las manos, colocando hojas limpias frente a él. Jude volvió a gritar—. ¡Señor Holmes, por favor, no es buen momento! —La voz del segundo hombre, muy por delante de Jude, respondió antes de abrir la puerta. La sonrisa de Mycroft se mantuvo, ahora acompañada de un ligero aire de petulancia.

—Nunca es buen momento, solo quiero ver a mi hermano. —La puerta se abrió de par en par—. ¿Por qué esta tan frío aquí adentro? — Mycroft tuvo la oportunidad de ver a Jude cubriéndose la nariz. Sherlock se detuvo en la entrada, olisqueando el aire, el asco en su rostro delgado no tardó en aparecer—. Olvídalo, ¿qué es este tufo?

—Si te hubieras detenido y quedado a escuchar, Jude te lo habría explicado.

Pero, naturalmente, su joven hermano jamás se habría detenido a oír que Mycroft entraría en celo en los próximos dos o tres días, que su cuerpo ya emitía el perfume de Alfa Sangre Pesada preparándose para la tarea de salvar entre siete y diez días consecutivos de sexo obsceno y desenfrenado con su precioso Omega. Lo que implicaba también la eliminación casi absoluta de su sentido común, quitándole estos días previos y cada vez durante lapsos mayores sus pensamientos lógicos.

Dejando en su cabeza la única imagen de su Omega, su hermoso Greg y el dulce aroma que emitía, sus pezones erectos, su culo húmedo y apretado, su boca atrevida y cada centímetro de su piel tierna… Además de un sentimiento protector que, si Jude permitía el paso a la oficina de quien no fuera Greg, podía hacerle reaccionar de las peores y violentas formas. Para fortuna de Sherlock, Mycroft se hallaba medianamente tranquilo. Y él lo supo casi de inmediato, pues cerrándole la puerta a Jude —que dada la profundidad del aroma se veía imposibilitado de entrar— irrumpió a la oficina buscando en su viejo pantalón un par de pañuelos, que al encontrar procedió a introducir en su nariz. El muchacho se sirvió medio vaso de wiski, sentándose al fin ante Mycroft.

—Apestas —dijo Sherlock, Holmes mayor aumentó su sonrisa.

—Y tú no eres quién para hablar.

—Estoy en un caso, no puedo pasearme por los barrios bajos si huelo a Alfa.

—Finalmente tienes un caso, felicidades, ¿no estarás escuchando de nuevo en secreto a la policía, cierto?

—No, es genuino, alguien vino a mí. —Mycroft se alegró de corazón por él, apenas tenía idea de lo que el muchacho esperaba lograr, sin embargo, mientras se mantuviera con vida y dada la imposición de que, si deseaba permanecer en la vida de Sherlock no iba a entrometerse, no importaba cuán interesado estuviera, se guardaría sus preguntas—. Hueles como un vertedero en el que arrojaron tres cadáveres.

—¿Solo tres? —Observó a su hermanito contener una arcada mas no moverse de su asiento, listo para irse. Debería ser importante el motivo que alimentaba su voluntad para quedarse, considerando que eran familia cercana, Sherlock percibiría su aroma a pre-celo un par de niveles más nauseabundos que su divertida descripción—. ¿Qué es lo que te trae a esta humilde oficina, Sherlock?

—Información. —Mycroft frunció el ceño.

—Sabes que hay datos que no puedo proporcionarte. —Sherlock bufó, Mycroft no se enorgullecía tan a la ligera de conocer al muchacho—. Sin embargo, mis libros están disponibles si es lo único que… —Sherlock lo ignoró una vez se le dio pase libre. Conociendo de sobra la ubicación de los libros, saltó de la silla y rápidamente comenzó a apilarlos en su brazo izquierdo. Mycroft se burló—. De verdad, ¿por qué la prisa? Pensé que querrías platicar un poco, tal vez acabar con mi wiski. Puedo pedirle a Jude que te prepare un bocadillo. —El joven Holmes resopló.

—El pobre hombre ni siquiera puede entrar aquí y esta atmósfera pestilente es apenas respirable para mí.

—¿En serio? Que cruel.

—Lo normal, espero. Tuve la fortuna de olvidar algo tan espantoso —dijo, su voz gangosa y conteniendo otra arcada, paseándose entre las estanterías—. ¿En qué etapa estás? No recuerdo haber tenido tantas arcadas en tan poco tiempo. —Ayudado por la distracción, Mycroft volvió a su informe.

—Este es mi último día aquí, mi celo llegará en dos o tres días.

—Demonios, Mycroft.

—Lenguaje.

—¡Y por eso es que apestas así! Padre siempre nos llevó a la choza cinco días antes. ¿Qué es lo que haces aquí? ¿No debería ya ese inspector tuyo prohibirte salir o lo que sea que hagan los Omegas en situaciones como estas? —Un gruñido abrupto nació desde lo profundo del pecho de Mycroft.

—No seas irrespetuoso cuando hables de mi Omega. —Sherlock ignoró por completo la amenaza.

—Y ahí esta la sensibilidad. —Mycroft lo oyó susurrar. El enojo desapareció con la misma rapidez de su aparición. Pronto, Sherlock se veía conforme con la cantidad de libros acumulados, ya se dirigía a la salida, obviamente incapaz de siquiera agradecer o decir que se iba, no si apenas podía respirar. Quizá se despediría una vez estuviera en el lado correcto de la puerta.

—Espera, Sherlock.

—Y ahí la falta de cordura. — El Holmes mayor lo ignoró.

—Quédate un poco más, ¿quieres? La presencia de otro Alfa me ayudaría a completar mis tareas más rápido.

—¿A cambio de la estabilidad de mi estómago y la ansiedad por irme de aquí tan pronto como sea posible? Creo que prescindiré de la oferta, querido hermano. Podría, sin embrago, acercarte aquella caja de cristal tan bonita. —Mycroft gruñó en el instante en que Sherlock señaló hacia el preciado tesoro que resguardaba la esencia de su divino Omega—. ¿No? Es una lástima. —Y tras esa última burla, el desconsiderado se marchó.

Mycroft no tuvo la fuerza para enojarse, su cuerpo simplemente se negaba a derrochar energía en eso, mejor le valía enfocarse en el nuevo intento de informe y aprovechar los minutos de paz que la rápida visita de su hermano trajo consigo. Quién sabe cuánto soportaría evitar el que su mente se encaminara hacia… temas poco remunerables ahora mismo, cada segundo que sucedía su cuerpo se sublevaba al autocontrol forjado a lo largo de los años. Solo debía resistir unas horas y, una vez llegara a casa, habría ganado con creces su recompensa por el esfuerzo sobrehumano que ahora ejercía.

Esa era una prueba que superaba cada cuatro meses y que, para su fortuna, desde hace un par de años compartía felizmente con su precioso y seductor…

Mycroft se aferró a la pluma como quien se abraza a la copa de un árbol en medio de un incendio forestal. Inevitable esquivarlo, ciertamente, ayudaba no obstante a aplazar el final.

Un final de piernas abiertas, un agujero estrecho, húmedo para él, respiraciones agitadas y…

* * *

No sabes, cariñoso amor mío, cuánto luché por retener el impulso y, de alguna manera, no completar el smut Mystrade 🥵, fue incluso difícil hacer que Sherlock apareciera y lo enfriara todo un poco. Verás, antes de decidirme a que Sherlock interrumpiera, la otra opción que no incluía un smut, era que Mycroft cediera y, arrojándose a la cajita, se hiciera... terminar 🥴...

Afortunadamente la meta de este fic se cumplió 🥳 y logré hacer algo puerco (aunque no tanto como me hubiera gustado 🥵) sin que fuera smut jajaa, (pero no sé cuánto más pueda soportar, espero escribir otro fic fluff antes de que me superenlas ganas y... me rinda 🤤).

Entonces, eso es todo por ahora, dime qué es lo que te pareció, estaré esperando para leerte. Nos veremos pronto 😘

¡Te amo! Muchas gracias por leer 🥰💖💖💖

#victorian mystrade #mycroft holmes #greg lestrade #acdcanon #acd mystrade #granadatv mystrade #fanfic en español #omegaverse #alpha mycroft holmes #omega greg lestrade #greg x mycroft #lestrade x mycroft

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agirliswriting · 7 years ago

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Sherstrade rp

You both like Omega!Lock, and Johnlock.

You: [Omega!Lock. Omega!Sherlock. Any pairing of your choice. Triad bonding if you wish. Alpha age (Preferably an older Alpha) and how you play them doesn’t bother me. Dark characters are welcome here. Any au’s can be added. Can go anywhere] Sherlock had been gone for a few months, after finding out he was pregnant with his Alpha’s pups. It wasn’t unusual for him to disappear for a while so he hoped that they wouldn’t be worried. Being pregnant was actually scaring him, especially because he was only nineteen. He knew he would be bonded and bred young, but it was still scary. He’d only really started getting himself better and then he found that out. At the moment he was hiding away in one of his brother’s abandoned warehouses, where there were no camera’s and he decided to come clear to the Alpha. Taking a deep breath, he pulled out his phone and rang his number, waiting for them to pick up. “I have something to tell you.”

Stranger: “Sherlock where the hell have you been? This is the longest you been away without so much as a note. I know I said it was fine for you to have your space but it’s hardly fair to make me worry like this.” Greg couldn’t help the relief that flooded through him when he heard his mate’s voice but he could also feel his temper rising. He expected Sherlock to consider his feelings now that they were bonded. It made him look like a week alpha when he couldn’t even get his omega to not just run off whenever he felt like it. And that wasn’t good for an Alpha in his position.

You: “I’m sorry Greg.” Sherlock mumbled, wringing his hands a little as he sat on a bench and thought about how he was going to say it. “I know I was supposed to leave a note to tell you I’d be back, but in all honesty, I didn’t go back home when I decided to go off. I did not mean to make you worry, and I am sorry that it happened. Mind coming to pick me up.” He asked, deciding it better that Greg come as see what he needed to tell him. At least it was more considerate than having to tell him over the phone like this.

Stranger: Greg sighed and ran a hand over his face. At 45 he had had reservations about taking an omega so much younger that he was, even if he was arse over teakettle for the brilliant young man, and this was one of the reasons; for all his brilliance sherlock could be so damned rash and it was a little exhausting at times. But he was safe and Greg just wanted to see him and bring him home. “Yes, love. Tell me where you are and I’ll be there.”

You: “Ah yes well… Do you remember that werehouse my brother took you to when we first got together?” Sherlock asked him, waiting for the sound of confirmation that he did remember. “Well I am there are the moment. Well just outside, sitting on the bench. Glad it’s not raining or snowing right now, but it’s not too cold.” Greg knew what he was getting into when they bonded, even before they had begun seeing each other. It wasn’t something that he would change in himself just to suit his mate and society, he’d be damned if he was to conform.

Stranger: The alpha bit his lip. He had no idea what had set the teen off this time and wanted to demand that he explain himself but after a rocky first year of being bonded he had learned to wait until he got an explanation before arguing. It made things easier after all. “I’ll be there shortly.” He hung up and took a deep breath before getting on his way. When he arrived at the warehouse Greg sighed again as he got out and handed Sherlock the jacket he’d brought him. “ Are you alright?”

You: Sherlock was fidgeting while he waited. When he saw Greg’s car, he stood up and put the jacket on, cuddling in the warmth. He must have had the heater on in the car, for that he was grateful. “I’m fine now. Didn’t mean to run off as long as I did. Remember, I had a doctors appointment.” He said, looking at the slightly taller man. “Are you okay?” He asked him, leading Greg back to the car where it was warm now. This was much better than the cold werehouse he’d been in.

Stranger: “I’m not okay but I would like to know why you just ran off and didn’t call anyone for months. I thought something had happened. I don’t demand that you not run off but I think I deserved a simple note. Not weeks of worrying that some criminal had kidnapped you to get back at me. We’re mates, Sherlock. That should mean something to you. /I/ should mean something to you. ” He gripped the steering wheel as he started back home. He was completely in love with the omega but sometimes he wasn’t so sure that the feeling was mutual.

You: “You do mean something to me. I wouldn’t have bonded to you if you didn’t mean anything to me Greg.” Sherlock said, turning to look out of the window. “We are mates and I appreciate that. I appreciate the senitiment of it, even if at times I don’t understand things. But understand that I am just of age and I was scared. I know I should have expected it. I was always told that I would be bonded and bred young, but for it to actually happen now, I got spooked.” He said, not sure if Greg would understand what he actually just told him. Hopefully he did, but he’d have to wait and see if anything actually did get through to him.

Stranger: “Sherlock you’re doing it again. Just say what you mean and don’t be vague with me. It’s one of the few things I really ask of you.” Greg grit his teeth and tried to focus on the road; it wouldn’t do to be pulled over for reckless driving when he was a DI. He probably should have bee n driving when he was running on a handful of hours of sleep and too much coffee. “Just tell me what spooked you. Did you really you don’t want to be bonded to me? What is there to be scared of? I practically let you do whatever you please no matter how weak it makes me look!” His voice was rising and he was losing his calm but he was so damn tired of putting the energy into the bond and making more compromises than he was happy with.

You: “I just basically told you that I was pregnant Greg! Don’t you understand how scary that is. I needed some time to think it over. I am sorry that I ran because of it. I knew that I would, but I still didn’t expect to it happen.” Sherlock huffed, folding his arms above his small bump. It wasn’t so noticeable, but there was definitely a bump on him. “If I make you look weak, even if you knew what you were getting into, why did you bond with me? Why did you ask?” He asked, almost growling. It wasn’t aggressive, but more protective of himself.

Stranger: “What?!” Greg swore as he swerved a little. “Sherlock you can’t just-I’m driving!” Greg shook with the shock of the announcement. When he could, the alpha pulled over and had to take several moments to process what his omega had just said. “You’re pregnant?” He looked at Sherlock in confusion. “You’re pregnant and you didn’t tell me /and/ ran off to some bare warehouse with no supplies or anything?!” The car suddenly felt far too small with too little air; Greg got out of the car and leaned against the car. He’d imagined this moment quite a bit, looked forward to it even, but this was a nightmare. How could Sherlock be so reckless?!

You: “You just told me not to be vague with you. First you want me to not be vague then you want me not to tell you? Make up your mind Greg. I can’t read your mind despite what you may think.” Sherlock said, huffing and looking in the other direction. “Yes I ran off. Yes I didn’t tell you. I’ve apologized so many times already. You know I work differently. Yes, many Omega’s may be looking forward to it, but I am frightened. How can I look after another person, when I can’t even look after myself.” He felt exhausted by this ranting, watching as Greg got out of the car. This was not going good. He should have left a note, or even come back sooner. Told him about it in fact, but he didn’t. Greg knew now and that’s all that mattered.

Stranger: “This can’t be happening.” Greg muttered to himself and paced beside the car, running his hands through his hair. He didn’t speak for several long moments;what could he say? His mate was pregnant and instead of telling him about it and how he felt, he ran away. “ I can’t help you if you won’t let me. I’m your mate, SHer. I want to take care of you! It’s part of our bond! You didn’t even give me a chance. You just left and put yourself and the baby at risk.”

You: “Look I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” Sherlock mumbled, fiddling with his fingers. “If you really don’t want something like this to happen again, why don’t you be like all those other Alpha’s then. Give me your rules if you want. And I didn’t exactly leave as such. I’m giving you the chance now. I am telling you what had me spooked out so badly. It wasn’t you, or our bond, but the fact of something that happened in accordance to it. I am letting you help Greg. Can we just move past this?”

Stranger: Greg laughed bitterly. “Rules? I don’t fucking want to give you rules! I want a mate, not property. And it’s not like you would follow them. I knew that from the start but I had hoped that being in love with with me would make you atleast consider me as someone who would protect you. Did you even consider going to me for help at any point during your little disappearing act? Seriously?” The part that hurt the alpha was that he truly believed that Sherlock hadn’t considered him as someone he could trust. Why else would he run?

You: “I did. The entire time, after I got over the initial shock of it all. I thought of standing up, walking out of there and hailing a cab back home to talk to you and tell you about it.” Sherlock admitted, finally looking up into Greg’s eyes. He could see how hurt he was. The bond was telling him that. He’d felt the worry too, and he tried to give him some reassurance through the bond but it didn’t seem to have worked. “I trust you. You haven’t done anything to make me not trust you. You aren’t like any of the others, I love you for that. I makes me know that the world isn’t traditional and is starting to change. But just because I trust you, doesn’t make it easy to come running when I encounter something that spooks me. I haven’t done that in the past, and to try and switch that over night is difficult. I’ve been trying, and it will take me awhile, but I’m getting there.”

Stranger: Greg sighed and closed his eyes against the stinging at the corners. “Fine.” He said quietly and got back in the car, waiting for sherlock to get in as well. He was too tired to go through this and he had to be ready to go to work and make Sherlock an appointment to make sure the baby was ok. The baby; Greg swore again when he thought of his child. What kind of parent was Sherlock going to be when he couldn’t even manage his own emotions? Would he continue to not eat regularly? Would the child even survive to birth?

You: Sherlock got back into the car, looking at him. He hoped the other would forgive him in time, and he knew it would take a while, but he was sure that they could get through it. “Are you going into work?” The Omega asked him, flattering his eyelashes a little. He wanted to make it up to him. Even if he had to work is arse off and look after himself better. He’d have to make a schedule for himself, something to make sure he ate if this was going to go well.

Stranger: “Don’t.” Greg held a hand up before starting the car. “I have to go in so I can save my days for when the baby is born.” He had no idea how this would shape up and now he felt like he had to prepare for the worst case scenario. He was exhausted and his nerves were completely frayed. He just needed time; oddly enough running away sounded appealing to him in that moment.

You: “I wasn’t doing to ask you to stay at home Greg. I just wanted to know.” He said. “Drop me off at the corner store near the house.” Sherlock requested, though he wasn’t sure if Greg would let him. “I just want to get some things before I go back home.” He added quickly, to make sure he knew he wasn’t going to cheat it and run again. “Do you not want the baby? You’re making it sound like it’s a chore rather than a good thing.”

Stranger: “I could ask you the same thing. What will you do when you start showing? When the baby is born? I want to be happy about this but I can’t ignore the possibility that you won’t do something like this again? This time something that could hurt our baby. You haven’t had any check ups for months! That’s important!” Greg frowned and looked at him. “I’m not dropping you off anywhere.”

You: “Should something like this happen again, I won’t run off. I won’t be spooked.” Sherlock said, looking at him and tilting his head a little. “The baby is fine… I would have known if something was wrong. I won’t do something like that again. I promise. If you want, I’ll even eat more. At least more than I normally do. And I ate while I was there. Sandwiches and I had vitamins as well. Water, bottled of course. Had more than I normally do… Am I going home or with you?”

Stranger: I’ll take you to the store and then home.“ Greg ignored the rest of what he said. He wasn’t ready to believe Sherlock, yet. "I need to sleep and so do you.” He spoke coldly, just trying to get through the evening. I f he could just get some time to focus- to clear his head.“

You: Sherlock winced at the coldness of his tone. He knew it was going to be a trying few days. Tonight was going to be the hardest, he knew that for sure. He had a feeling that Greg wouldn’t take no for an answer, so he’d have to lie in bed and try to sleep. Maybe he’d actually sleep tonight. "Do you not want to eat?” He asked. He’d try to be a better person and mother.

Stranger: “Nope.” Greg answered quietly and pulled into the parking lot. “What do you need?” He glanced at Sherlock. He wanted things to be better but he just couldn’t bear to just blindly trust Sherlock after this.

You: “I’ll go in and get it.” Sherlock said, taking off his seatbelt and went to open the door. He wanted to make Greg’s favourite food and have it as a surprise for when he got home tomorrow, if he was not going to eat today. And he’d get something for himself to eat while he was at it. “Just some food stuff.” He murmured, taking what cash he had left and making his way into the store. Sherlock was sure that Greg could see him, it wasn’t a big place. Soon, he paid and came back.

Stranger: Greg said nothing as Sherlock got back in. He felt somewhat better now that he could smell his mate and know that he was safe again. When they got home he carried the grocery bags in and put them away for Sherlock.vHe didn’t want him over doing it now that he was pregnant. “Ill make you an appointment to get checked on in the morning.” He murmured before kissing Sherlock’s cheek. “I’m going to bed.”

You: Sherlock felt better now. Much better than he had felt in months. Running wasn’t a good idea, and he knew that now. Everyone makes mistakes, and this was one mistake that he regretted now. “Okay, goodnight.” He murmured back, a small smile on his face at the kiss to his cheek. He kissed Greg’s cheek a bit. Starting on a little bit of food for himself, he ate alone before going to their room an hour later.

Stranger: Despite his exhaustion, Greg was still awake when he smelled his mate before he entered. “Hey.” He muttered and turned over to face his husband. “Want me to run you a bath?” He couldn’t stand to not take care of Sherlock, even when he was angry, and it wasn’t like he was sleeping either.

You: “I was just going to come to bed, but I think a bath may be a good idea.” Sherlock gave him a small smile. “Would you like to join me in the bath, well shower? It’s too late for a bath.” He said. He probably smelt and going to bed stinking was not a good idea. It would likely irritate Greg and he didn’t want to make him any more uncomfortable than he had been.

Stranger: Greg nodded and got up, padding off to the bathroom to turn the water on. When it was hot, he pulled off his own clothes a waited for sherlock to undress. The sight of the small but noticeable bump made his breath catch as he stared. “So- so how far along are you?”

You: Sherlock undressed, not being ashamed of how his body looked. He had been in the beginning, never having got on with many people. But it was apart of him, and without it he wouldn’t be who he was today. Looking down at the bumping, he touched his stomach a little, giving it a little rub. “Well I’ve been gone four months, and I was just over a month when I found out… Five months I should say.” Sherlock answered, looking back at him.

Stranger: Greg took a shuddering breath. So much lost time; they had 4 months to prepare, he had 4 months to prepare to be a father. It made him a little light headed to know that. “Four months then? Til the baby is born?”

You: “Techniqually it’s five months if you think about it solely in weeks, but many people only find out around the fourth or fifth month that they are expecting. Mummy didn’t know until half way through her fifth month about me.” Sherlock reassured him, trying to let him know that maybe if he hadn’t gone to the doctors when he did, because lord knows he hates the doctors and hospital, he would have been so oblivious until Greg made him go. “But yes, four months. We have a spare room and I can do that up while you work. It gives us enough time.”

Stranger: Greg wanted to argue that for them it wasn’t enough time, that they didn’t have the same relationship as either of their parents but he kept his mouth shut. What would be the point. “I suppose. We’ll need to start saving money and cutting back so we can start a uni fund and make sure we can get the nursery up.”

You: “Greg, money is not an issue.” Sherlock told him when the other started to worry about money. “I can put in £100 every week in a separate bank account for our son or daughter. Just use the money I have that is just sitting there. I don’t use it often, so we can put it to use. You get paid a good amount and I’ll start taking money for the cases I take on. The cases that are below a 7. Those are easy enough to solve at home. We can do it? It can’t be that hard, right?”

Stranger: “Right. Well excuse me for wanting to provide for my mate and my child.” Greg winced at his own sharpness. “Sorry. I just- It’s been a lot to take in and feel like I don’t have very much time before I-we, have to be ready for this.” He stepped into the shower and held the curtain back for Sherlock.

You: “I’ll put it in until we have enough money to set aside each month. I’m not doing anything with it. What’s mine is yours right?” Sherlock murmured, entering the shower and leaning back on Greg a little. “And it’s okay. I shouldn’t have just sprung this on you the way I did and expect you to just accept it without any problems.” These few months by himself made him appreciate Greg even more than he had before.

Stranger: “I know. I just want to do what comes naturally to me, yeah? I need to take care of you but I’m trying to give you what you need without getting the same. If this is going to work, I need you to take my needs into consideration and our baby’s” He sighed and rubbed his mate’s shoulders firmly, pressing his nose into the dark curls.

You: “I was never a good person to mate with.” Sherlock laughed at himself, shaking his head a little. “I’ll try better to be a better person. But you’ll have to tell me. I’m not very good with noticing ‘human nature’. It still very much confuses me. And I guess it’s the same with my own emotions as well.”

Stranger: “I will as long as you try. I love you with everything I have, Sherlock.” The alpha wrapped his arms around his mate tightly and kissed his bond bite slowly. “Let me protect you and help you be better. I swear I don’t want to make you someone else. Just the better version.”

You: Sherlock leaned into him, his eyes closing as the bond bite was kissed. That was nice. “I love you as well… So much. Protect me as much as you want and need. Make me as better as you can. Maybe I can become a better version of myself.” He murmured, though he wasn’t sure what the better version of himself was. “What is the better version of myself?” The younger asked.

Stranger: “I don’t know but I can’t wait to see it.” Greg smiled. “Let’s get you washed up and in bed. You need your rest.” The alpha grabbed the body wash and slowly bathed his mate, something that Sherlock rarely let him do. Then he worked the omega’s favorite shampoo into the inky curls slowly. He needed this, need to reconnect with his mate.

You: Sherlock smiled back at him, letting him wash his body and hair. He needed this, and having Greg doing this for him made it even better. Maybe he should do this more often. Let bond like this. It made for an intimate bonding without a sexual inlet to it. “Here, let me do you as well.”

Stranger: Greg smiled and kissed Sherlock chastely before giving access to his own body. “Thank you. For trying.” He sighed at the first touch. It was comforting to have the closeness where he could just focus on them in the moment.

You: Sherlock copied Greg’s movements, lathering his body with the scented soap that he adored. It was a subtle scent but it always made him happy and comforted. Probably stemmed from something he found comforting in his childhood that stayed with him. “You’re welcome.” He said. “Do you need your hair washing, or is it okay for now?”

Stranger: “It’s fine. but…” he looked at the bump between them. “May i? Touch I mean.” He stammered and blushed. He wanted to know more about the child. “I just-can’t believe you- we-we-we’re going to be parents.” He smiled about it for the first time.

You: Sherlock moved his arms and nodded. “Go ahead. I’ve felt flutters, but no definitive kicks yet.” He said, watching Greg. “I know. We’ll be parents. And it’s going to be scary but it’ll be a good thing right? We’ll be able to learn more about ourselves and our little baby as well.” He murmured, grinning at him.

#Omegaverse #Sherstrade #Sherlock Holmes #Greg Lestrade #Omega!Sherlock #Alpha!Greg #Sherstrade rp

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inevitably-johnlocked · 2 years ago

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Five Fics Friday: August 19/22

HAPPY FRIDAY EVERYONE! It’s the official start to MY summer holidays, so I think I might check out one of these new fics added too my MFL list this week!! Hope you guys enjoy!

RECENT MFLs

Missed Reservation by Anonymous (NR, 942 w., 1 Ch. || Sick Fics, IBS) – It took Sherlock a few seconds to realize John was speaking. It took him a few more seconds to comprehend what John was saying, but then again, Sherlock already knew. This very situation had already happened too many times for him to count.

Empty Houses by Raina_at (T, 6,713 w., 1 Ch. || Post-TRF, High Concept, Sherlock’s Mind Palace) – Sherlock comes back to Baker Street, and John is gone.

The Love Song of Two Idiots by SkipandDi (T, 7,868 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Crack, Humour, Proposals) – The eighth time Sherlock proposed to John, it was on a Thursday afternoon in the middle of a Tesco. And like the seven times before, he got rejected. Part 2 of The Infiltrate Series

A different kind of adventure by curiousbees (E, 27,340 w., 13 Ch. || Omegaverse AU || Omega Sherlock, Alpha John, Pregnancy, Parentlock) – A series of rash experiments at twenty-three left omega Sherlock unable to form a bond or have a child. He never particularly cared, even if he sometimes caught himself wishing after meeting John. Now at 36, this inability is simply another part of who he is, like his intellect or his tendency for addiction. So after one night's loss of logic with his married best friend, he doesn't think to question it. In hindsight, he really shouldn't have taken it for granted.

Sherlock of Green Gables by ChrisCalledMeSweetie (T, 62,102+ w. 28/36 Ch. || WiP || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Green Gables / 1800s Canada AU || Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Sexism, Closeted Established Mystrade, Crossdressing, Humour, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fake / Pretend Relationship) – Mycroft Holmes and Greg Lestrade, confirmed bachelors who have recently moved to Avonlea, decide to adopt an orphan girl to help with the housework, rather than hiring someone local, who might be tempted to carry tales back to the village about how many beds were — or were not — slept in. However, the hand of fate steps in to deliver them a boy, instead. Since Sherlock could just as easily be a girl’s name, they decide to keep the child, and pass him off as a girl. Little do they know just how much trouble — and joy — Sherlock will bring into their lives. Part 26 of Children's Classics with a Johnlock Twist

#johnlock fic recs #five fics friday #my fic recs

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amyreadsandstresses · 3 years ago

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Sherlock Mid-March Fics Rec

Since I've read plenty of good fics this month, I am going to divide the recs into two parts (at least). Here is part one:

*Among the Secret Thing - Kate_Lear

2 works, 33k, Johnlock, Amnesia, Recovery, Angst. Excrutiating and so good.

Sherlock would be the last person to describe himself as given to flights of fancy, but at the look on Lestrade’s face he could swear that something inside him curls up and dies.

*A Sign of Four - hobbitsdoitbetter

4k, 1/1, Grey Romantic Sherlock, Sherlolly, Post S4. Lovely Aro rep (as a grey romantic myself).

Grey romantic Sherlock discovers the many ways one can love Molly Hooper

*as if not spoken in the act of love - coloredink

8k, 1/1, Johnlock, Codependency, Consent Issues, Aspec Sherlock. TW.

Sherlock endures the indignities, bodies squirming against one another, the sweat, the saliva, because of John's jam in the fridge and sour-breathed kisses in the morning.

*Kiss the Tin Man - hyacinth_sky747

3k, 1/1, Johnlock, Hurt/Comfort, The Wizard of Oz references.

Sherlock is not human. Sherlock has no heart. Sherlock is in love.

*Lead me to the Truth - Lavellington

8k, 1/1, Johnlock, John Watson, Harry Watson, Character Study. Drug Use, Addiction, Hurt/Comfort.

John didn’t mind following two steps behind: two steps behind Sherlock was still miles ahead of everyone else.

*Trapped and Upside Down on the M6 - BootsnBlossoms

4k, 1/1, Car Accident, Johnlock, Greg Lestrade, Angst with a Happy Ending.

Everything felt wrong. His hair was going the wrong way. His arms were bent in ways he wouldn’t choose to bend them. His neck hurt and he couldn’t really feel his toes. Something was dripping on his face – and rolling up.

No, this definitely wasn’t right.

“Sherlock? Sherlock!” a frantic and pained voice whispered next to his ear. Sherlock groaned and turned his head, hissing as the muscles at the juncture of his neck and shoulder flared with pain.

“All right, it’s all right, it’s fine.” Sherlock couldn’t finish turning his head for fear of the muscle seizing completely, but the rest of his senses were kicking back in. Metallic creaks and groans, cracking glass, the distinct smell of petrol and burnt rubber.

A car crash. He had been in a car crash.

*Cabin Fever - awanderingbard

6k, 1/1, Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Mrs. Hudson, Friendship, Fluff.

A massive storm keeps John trapped in Baker Street with a half-blind (for science!), very bored Sherlock Holmes.

*Mozart - holyfant

3k, 1/1, Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Molly Hooper, Substance Abuse, Hurt/Comfort.

John doesn't want to be, but he's worried.

*And It Just Got Worse - VelvetMace

6k, 1/1, Sally Donovan, Sherlock Holmes, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Developing Friendship.

Sally and Sherlock wake to find themselves locked together, naked, in a tiny stinking closet, at the mercy of some very bad people. If either is to survive, they have to learn to put aside their differences and trust each other. Given their history, this is not an easy thing to do.

*System Restart - Radon65

9k, 1/1, Character Injury, Hurt Sherlock, John Watson, Greg Lestrade, Sally Donovan, Angst, Character Study.

"Sally had always said that someday, they'd be standing around a body and Sherlock Holmes would be the one who put it there. But now they were standing around his body and what it was doing to John Watson was more than she could bear." Unrelated to Reichenbach. No character death.

*saying it out loud is hard (and words are futile devices) - verity

1k, 1/1, A/B/O, Trans Character, Asexual Sherlock.

Sherlock went to dance lessons when he was young and more easily bribed, the kind where the omegas wore delicate white gloves and orbited the alphas like electrons around a nucleus. It was no different; everything was chemistry.

#bbc sherlock #sherlock holmes #sherlock fandom #sherlock #ao3 #johnlock #fanfic #sherlock bbc #sherlock fanfic #sherlolly #sherlock fic rec

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fffinnagain · 4 years ago

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10 Years of Sherlock (TV) AO3 stats!

Sherlock fans, new and old, click below to read a long list of graphs and comments about our communities fanworks over the last 10 years. I scraped AO3 again and demonstrate that:

More creators are writing longer works in 2020

Readers engaged more as the fandom changed after S4

Top ten new tags per year for the last 10 years

And a lot more.

PS the code to gather this data and analyse it can be found way over here.

Activity over 10 years

The last 10 years in the BBC Sherlock fandom have been tumultuous, but this community persists, with engagement from new fans and continued creative output. To commemorate over a decade of squee, I’ve done another scrape of the fandom’s imprint on the Archive of Our Own and will share some insights from the numbers in these plots. A very late update on my post S4 snapshot from 2018.

Note: This analysis is of completed public fanworks only, about 101000 of the 122000 Sherlock (TV) works available at present. This is to remove the late WIP effect, which adds a bulge to the last few months, and out of respect to creators who wish to have their material reserved for other registered AO3 users.

The works are still coming

Counting the number of works posted per day, we can see the peaks associated with each series airing (in UK and US). After that, the number of works continues fairly evenly, 20-30 per day, plus seasonal peaks. This rate is continuing on without a hint of new canon in sight. So who is posting all this work?

Creator-waves, monthly output

Years ago I started plotting creator waves, basically I group fanwork producers by the year they first posted to the fandom and then count how many of this group are active in later time intervals. This lets us get a sense of how long people are contributing and whether new fans are getting the urge to create.

This plot of the Sherlock (TV) fanworks on AO3 shows the standard shape of plump participation in the first year of any given set of creators, followed by a slowly thinning tail as they because less active over time. Turnover is natural in fandoms, with most only posting a work or two within a fairly limited amount of time, while a precious few persist for years. The surprise for me here is that the ratio of new creators is higher in 2020 than it was in 2019. Maybe the excuse of lockdown encouraged more folks to take a turn at creating content.

Another way to look at the output of fan creators on AO3 is to see the total amount of words being shared across all fanworks. The total has been pretty close to 300-400k words per month since 2018! To get a sense of what that means per work, I also plotted the median number of words per fanwork in these monthly sets. The median in higher in the last year than it had been staying for a while.

Reader behaviour: Hits & Kudos & Comments

Fan creators are only part of the story. Stats on engagement are a bit trick to interpret, I’ve got some plots here that tell us something about how works have been engaged with over time.

The obvious first to consider is Hits. Above is the total number of Hits given to works published each month. This is the current totals, not a historical snapshot, so we have a very strong bias towards early works, what we might call the Classics Effect. Works that have been around longer have had the chance to be seen by more people, and in particular those works that become must-read classics in a fandom, extending their exposure through prominence in top ranked works and recommendations.

To cut down on the advantage of the classics, we can also consider median hits per work for each month. As most works get a lot attention when they are first posted and then fade out of sight, the median number of hits reflects instead the ratio of readers to creators, basically how many eyeballs are around to look at the latest work, regardless of status. The median plot shows how the hyper-visibility of the few work available before 2012, and then a more steady curve once the fandom had gotten established on the platform after Series 2. Amazingly, the hit rate for the median work was steady through the big bumps in activity with later series, a 1000 hits for median works between 2013 and 2018, followed by a slow decline. I’d expect the 2020 works to continue gaining for a few months yet, but the median is probably 50-60% of what is was when the show was in production.

Kudos counts and medians show a similar story to hits, but there is a dip down around 2013 for kudos reflects the frenzy of productivity that saw the fandom grow during the Series 2 hiatus. Readers were getting spoiled! From the airing of Series 3 (2014) until a year following Series 4 (2018), the median work received an even 60ish kudos and 1000 hits, a niche audience that decreased to 50/750 through 2018-2019. The numbers of 2020 suggest a smaller community of readers again, though these numbers may still rise a bit in the next few months before the median works are forgotten.

The statistic that tells a different story is Comments. Looking at the total comments counts, there isn’t a drop after Series 3 (2014). Instead, the fandom compensated for changing numbers with more feedback and discussion attached to works. This is reflected in the median comment rate as well, which shows seasonal variation but doesn’t really drop off until 2020.

It’s remarkable that without fresh canon we continue to have new creators contributing to the fandom, and while that may be outpacing the readership somewhat, the standard of engagement has been very high. One could say the fandom is chugging along quite nicely!

What about Tags

So, with all that turnover and shifting population, is there a change in the kinds of works being posted? We can look at tags, all tags and freeform tags, to see if there were any meaningful trends.

First up, I did a creator-wave like analysis of works just for tags, to see how tags continue to be used after being introduced. Unlike the creators, tags clearly persist for years. After 2015, it looks like the core tag set has been established, with very few tags persisting in usage per subsequent year.

This graph reports numbers over time that are not proportional to the number of works or creators active. Instead, works on AO3 have been getting more and more tags over the years, with the average steadily growing from 5 in 2011 to 15 in 2020, with freeform tags (not characters or ships) from 2 to 8.

To get a sense of fic and tagging culture changes over time, I counted the most popular NEW tags of each year (wave). Note: this analysis is using exact matches, not the networked associations of tag meanings wrangled into AO3 today, so some things that pop up aren’t new concepts but instead newly popular TAGs for whatever they represent.

2011: 2752 (First year, so all solid stuff, tags that continue to be popular forever)

Angst 323

Fluff 232

Humor 216

Hurt/Comfort 188

Romance 168

Friendship 168

Crossover 138

Crack 121

Alternate Universe 119

First Time 106

2012: 11637 (still early, first references to Series 2)

Fluff and Angst 145

Episode: s02e03 The Reichenbach Fall 97

Kid Sherlock 54

Puppies 50

Sad 48

Episode: s02e01 A Scandal in Belgravia 47

Mathematics 42

Season 2 spoilers 38

Omega Verse 38

Feels 38

2013: 16176 (Omegaverse nomenclature is growing, Top/Bottom terminology, new challenges)

Alpha Sherlock 65

Omega John 61

30 Day OTP Challenge 59

Tumblr: letswritesherlock 56

Top John 49

Sherlock Holmes Returns after Reichenbach 44

Bottom Sherlock 40

Reichenbach Angst 30

Don't copy work to another site 29

Age Regression/De-Aging 27

2014: 19256 (Mostly Series 3 related

Episode: s03e03 His Last Vow 249

Episode: s03e02 The Sign of Three 167

Post-His Last Vow 149

His Last Vow Spoilers 142

Sherlock Series 3 Spoilers 128

2000 AU 100

The Sign of Three Spoilers 74

Fatlock 72

Post-The Sign of Three 66

Post-Season/Series 03 57

2015: 14272 (New challenges, new prominent Sherlolly tags)

Chats 47

International Fanworks Day 2015 34

Watson's Woes July Writing Prompts 2015 27

S3 referenced 25

Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper Kissing 22

English Accent 22

Sound cloud 19

Eventual Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper 19

Protective John Watson 18

but not that kind of graphic 17

2016: 13517 (New stylistic tagging, TAB references, a lot of epilepsy?)

Slowwww burn 92

John Watson Loves Sherlock Holmes 37

Sherlock Holmes Loves John Watson 33

post-tab 30

JME 27

Post TAB 25

Juvenile Myoclonic Epilepsy 23

Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2016 19

epileptic 19

fraternal love 17

2017: 15067 (Series 4 tags and challenges)

Episode: s04e02 The Lying Detective 133

Episode: s04e01 The Six Thatchers 93

Post TFP 73

Sherlock Series 4 Spoilers 69

Episode: s04e03 The Final Problem 60

Post-Episode: s04e02 The Lying Detective 55

Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2017 50

Post S4 48

Sherstrade Month 2017 44

31 Days of Porn Challenge 2017 41

2018: 10733 (Lost of new challenges, seasonal and weekly)

Towel Day 2018 64

Mystrade Valentines Calendar 2018 25

Kinktober 2018 23

Pregnant Molly Hooper 23

Soft Smut Sunday 23

Tom Robbins 23

Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2018 21

Inktober 2018 20

established universe 16

Always1895 16

2019: 7785 (More prompts, and character attitudes)

Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2019 25

221B Autumn Challenge 21

A-Z Christmas Prompt 19

KatsJohnlockXmas2019 16

Whumptober 11

Poor Greg Lestrade 11

Kinktober 2019 10

Dissonance 10

John Watson is a Good Friend 9

Sleepy Sherlock Holmes 8

2020: 8074 (Not all COVID related, thank heavens)

Mystrade Monday 59

COVID-19 48

Coronavirus 46

Mystrade Monday Prompts 40

Whumptober 2020 36

warning for a covid-19 setting 33

Flufftober prompts 2020 24

Do Not Translate 24

they're all right they're just at home 23

Granada Sherlolly 21

A little note from looking across all freeform tags, not just the new ones, we see a curious pattern with regards to two actions: First Kiss and Anal Sex. They appear amongst the most common tags as of 2014, neck in neck for two years, than Anal Sex drops off the top ten in 2016. From there out, First Kiss stays in the top 5 from that point on, while anal sex appears at rank 9 from 2017-2019 and is gone again in 2020. This probably says something about the fandom, somehow.

Bravo for making it to the end and thank you for reading!

Questions/comments welcome.

#Fandom stats #Sherlock #AO3 #Graphs #python

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engazed · 3 years ago

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Hi, Engazed! I was wondering what you think A fold in the universe would've been like if Sherlock and John's roles had been reversed. In the sense of, Sherlock swapping places with an omega version of himself?

Like, what would he have learned for his own world or what do you think would've been the problems of the A/Ω John and Sherlock?

The more I think about it, John going there seems more compelling? (Which is probably why you chose that, duh xD) Like, whatever you throw at him, he gets up somehow? And he already has these don't-mess-with-me vibes, it seems strange to 'amplify' (?) those with gender. I'm just curious to hear what you think, I really loved your original story. :)

This is a very interesting question and has led to some intense speculation. The nature of story-building is that one can't simply swap these roles and expect the story to play out in any cogent way. If the characters change, so too does the story environment, and so too do the themes that come out of it.

Okay, so let's engage the thought experiment. Let's send Sherlock (both Prime and Alter) to Waterloo Bridge. Let them experience synchronicity and bam, swap universes. Alter Sherlock finds himself in a London in which he's one of two sexes only, a simple male (beta). Prime Sherlock finds himself in a London in which he is one of sixes sexes, a Omega-Y. Okay. So. We've begun.

Next we ask the question: how does each Sherlock need to change? Any protagonist needs to start HERE and end THERE. Any protagonist needs three things: want/need, flaw, and desire. So both Sherlocks desires to return to their own universes (their motivation). That's the obvious. Let's then talk about flaws and their need for change.

We'll begin with Prime Sherlock in the omegaverse. His counterpart, whose life he is now occupying, lives a very comfortable life. He's a well-kept Omega-Y. He's lazy because no demands are made of him, neither intellectually nor professionally nor domestically, really. John, his Alpha, works as a doctor and is gone most of the day while Sherlock whiles away the time watching crap telly and playing video games (multiplayer games with other omegas around the world) and basically existing in a state of arrested development. When John gets home, John does the cooking and the cleaning and the bill paying and the shopping because, on the whole, he feels it's cruel to make demands of an omega. John tries to make conversation but is met mostly with eye rolls and grunted answers. When Sherlock's heats come around, it's a chore for both. This is not a happy relationship. John is frankly depressed and drinks in secret, and Sherlock, feeling unfulfilled and unstimulated daily increases in self-loathing. They're just sort of existing and going through the motions, and both are reaching something of a breaking point that has yet to manifest.

This sort of set-up yields a couple of new realities about the world. Whereas in AFITU certain canonical characters occupied their usual roles (Lestrade, Mycroft) and some had to be introduced later (Stamford, Molly), in this plotline there would be no reason for either Sherlock or John to have any connection to the police, so there's no established history with Greg Lestrade or Molly Hooper. Mycroft is a player, as is Harry. The other details would be unveiled in the unfolding of the story, I suppose.

But when Prime Sherlock shows up, the story has been initiated, and change is set in motion. Sherlock, naturally, is initially horrified by his bodily transformation, and then deeply curious and experimental (because how else would he be?). He has zero interest in telly or his video games, and while John is away begins to set up a laboratory around the flat, and then some mystery would arise and he would put his brilliance to the problem and begin engaging as the detective that he is. He's actually having quite a lot of fun in this new universe (as opposed to what Prime John experienced in the original story), and he sucks John into it, and a relationship begins to repair.

Now, as far as Omega Sherlock goes, finding himself in our Prime Universe is quite jarring and distressing. Aside from discovering a new and unfamiliar body, this John makes demands of him all the time. He expects so much from Sherlock, and far beyond the washing up. His first time trying to solve a case, he tries to rely on some video game or television-show knowledge, and John is confused and thoroughly unimpressed, and it makes Sherlock feel ashamed. But also, he experiences something he hasn't in a long, long while, which is ... he wants to impress John. So he tries harder, and he's beginning to realise he's got a brain, and quite a good one, and with it he can solve puzzles even the police can't solve and ... help people. What a wonder!

These plotlines are just initial note-taking. When I start to write a story, flesh out the characters, develop the world, grander themes begin to emerge, and I don't know what would come of this particular story. Perhaps those themes would make a social commentary of a different sort to the original. But that's for Alter-Engazed to figure out (or is her name darkest_bird?). I hope she has fun!

#engazed answers questions

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writingfanficsfan · 2 months ago

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Sherstrade WIP

He should have known! As soon as Sherlock asked him to kiss him again, he should have known. It’s ridiculous, all Heat-induced speech and actions. Even Sherlcok’s text, even than Greg should have known it was all just his body talking. Not something Sherlock really wants but something his body craves. He doesn’t want Greg, not specifically. No, Sherlock’s body just needs an Alpha to help him. To make it stop hurting.

“I need you inside of me.”

“God. I fucked up.” Greg says into the empty room, staring down at the pajama set in his hands. He rubs his face, wanting to scream and break something but instead, he breathes in and out deeply again, counting to 15 before he leaves the bedroom and quickly knocks on the bathroom door.

“The new set is just in front of the door. I’ll make us some tea.” Greg says, swallowing down everything else he wants to say and turning away. He doesn’t stop, even when he hears the door open and a new wave of Sherlock’s delicious scent drifts towards him.

I do love the 'crisis moment' in fics. We need the hurt and discomfort before we can get to the care and comfort and love afterward, right?

@chained-to-the-mirror @everythingcanadian @lavenderandvanilla

#my writing #sherlock bbc #sherstrade #alpha greg lestrade #omega sherlock holmes #wip

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peacxhybxtch · 3 years ago

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More of my favorite Johnlock fanfics:

- The River Variations by withoutawish

Tags:

Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Greg Lestrade, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, three garridebs, Near Death Experience, Romance, some case fic in here IDK, Overuse of italics Soulmates

Words: 11,619

Chapters: 1/1

Summary: John Watson never knew that he wanted a ‘no toast in the mornings’ normal until he realized what an honor it is to be destroyed by Sherlock Holmes.

Written for Johnlock Challenges: “The modern take of The Three Garridebs; essentially, John is wounded during a case and Sherlock loses his mind a little bit. And then gayness. Obviously that last bit is where it deviates from canon…or is it? Any rating.”

- Faerie-Touched by Blind_Author

Tags:

Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Alternative Universe - Fantasy, First Time

Words: 9,283

Chapters: 2/2

Summary: In a world of sorcerers and magic, Sherlock is a Faerie-born and John, lacking any kind of magical talent, often seems a bit out of place. But he has a gift all his own...

- Notes by Kryptaria

Tags:

Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Fluff, Sherlock's version of handwriting analysis, Don't copy to another site

Words: 2,756

Chapters: 1/1

Summary: It had begun innocuously enough, when Sherlock had found a scrap of paper under the armchair that had become reserved solely for John’s use. Sherlock Holmes, it read, with 221B Baker Street underneath.

- A Terrific Soporific by antietamfalls

Tags:

Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Fluff, Insomnia, Accidental Cuddling, Sharing a Bed, Sleepy Cuddles, Sherlock Experiments on John, Sleep Deprivation

Words: 11,269

Chapters: 1/1

Summary: Sherlock, a long-time sufferer of insomnia, is forced to share a bed with John at a hotel while on a case. To his astonishment, he finds that spending the night next to John helps him sleep and becomes determined to maneuver himself back into John's bed.

- Scales and Skin by TheMadKatter13

Tags:

Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Greg Lestrade, Poppy Pomfrey, Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, Omegaverse, Alpha/Omega, Potterlock, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Mounting, Biting, Marking, Teenlock, Omega John, Teen John, Teen Sherlock, Gryffindor John, Creature Sherlock, Merman Sherlock, First Time, Top Sherlock, Bottom John, Alpha Sherlock, Ravenclaw Sherlock

Words: 15,008

Chapters: 1/1

Summary: John never thought he’d present at all. The few times he’d put thought to it, he’d never thought he’d present omega. And if he’d put any more thought into it past that, he wouldn’t have imagined sharing his first heat with a mermaid. Er, merman.

- The Vapor Variant by 88thParallel (CanadaHolm)

Tags:

Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Henry Knight, Barrymore (Sherlock), Doctor Stapleton (Sherlock), Post Episode: s02e02 The Hounds of Baskerville, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD John, Whump, Sickfic, Injury, Guilt, John Watson Whump, Protective Sherlock, Big Brother Mycroft, Protective Greg, Minor Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Guilty Sherlock, Medical Jargon, Virus, Suspense, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, John is a Bit Not Good, Implied Mystrade, Angst with a Happy Ending, Late Night Conversations, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Garridebs Moment, Podfic Available, Sensitive Sherlock Holmes, Sherlock is a Mess, Don't copy to another site

Words: 72,684

Chapters: 18/18

Summary: They stood face to face in the middle of a clearing. The dim light of the moon barely allowed Sherlock to see the glassy terror in John’s eyes and the sweat that glistened off his forehead. His nose was bleeding again, blood dripping in a slow stream from his right nostril.

They were both gasping for air, John’s eyes locked on Sherlock’s. There was no recognition there, just wild animal fear.

Time stood still for an eternal few seconds, and Sherlock took a shaky breath. “John—”

Spell broken, John spun and bolted back into the woods.

Still heaving for air, Sherlock took off after him.

#bbc sherlock #john watson #johnlock #sherlock #sherlock holmes #johnlock fanfiction #fanfic recs

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starkraivennemad · 4 months ago

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Your Best Shot - Chapter 5

Sherlock sat by the fire fireplace as John paced the reception room of the Mews.

"He’s had the compulsory neurological examination. It tests the extent of the injury and whether or not their responses are fully functioning. Testing his motor nerves, including muscle tone and weakness, sensory nerves, reflexes. Testing Greg’s reflexes will determine how his bladder and bowel movement have been affected. Control of that unsurprisingly is what worries patients the most. An independent man like Lestrade?-more so. He’s home now and…” John plopped into a chair, and rubbed hard at his face - his frustration on display..

John knew Sherlock knew all of that, he did.

While Sherlock still carried on conversations with Billy the Skull on occasion, much to the amusement of their offspring, when John needed to sound things out - it had to be a living person. Who else but the smartest person he knows - his omega?

“He’s… I can’t say coping, Sherlock . .” John rose out of the chair again to pace again. “I can’t…”

“He’s a dear friend, he’s family…he’s hurting.” Sherlock made a rare statement of the obvious. “And you’re a doctor, a remarkable doctor, John, and you can’t help him .”

“Jesus! I fucking know that!” John exploded, then sat again dejected.”I’m sorry love - Yeah, all of that… And guilty...”

“What do you mean?”

“When it all happened… He was on the ground and I was behind him trying to staunch the blood…” John looked askance as the memory of that fateful moment came back to him. “I was trying to -- I don’t know…feel for it? I felt… something … wrong…”

“Well yes, his paralysis…”

“No,” John cut him off. “Well maybe yes - but I touched something and it was hurting me - my back seized up for a moment and I instinctively pushed back for lack of a better way to describe it.”

“You… pushed back …?”

“Yes..” John dropped his head into his hands. ““I’m a doctor, Omega. Lesson One is always: Primum Non Nocere .”

Sherlock walked over and crouched before his alpha. He switched to mindspeak.

{What exactly are you not saying alpha…?}

{When someone or someone physically hurts you unexpectedly… You either recoil or …}

(...Or you push back.} Sherlock’s lips pursed as understanding dawned..(You were tending to Lestrade and something from him hurt you and you instinctively pushed back..}

{Yes.}

{And you fear whatever it was when you pushed back…}

“I just know I touched something in Greg’s back that hurt me so I shoved it away from me. What if in my not knowing, I shoved too hard? What if what happened to him is my fault?”

“You don’t know that you did that, John.”

“And I don’t know that I didn’t .”

John’s voice was incredibly small as the Alpha’s proud shoulders slumped.

“Sherlock ...I think…I think “I” broke him. .”

Greg sat in the living room, looking out the patio window. The rain pattern of raindrop as it splattered against the paving stones.

More like shattered against the stones, as shattered as my spine, he thought bitterly.

People were talking: his physical therapist, his…nurse…Mycroft… They were discussing him, and he heard them but he was not truly listening.

“Gregory?” Mycroft touched his shoulder. They were alone in the room, he had not noticed the departure of his physical therapist and nurse. "Penny for your thoughts?"

The physical therapist was one thing: Greg understood needing to keep his leg muscles in tone. It was still early and like the lottery - you never know…

But the nurse really had one sole job and Greg did not want him. Or any nurse from that matter. At. All.

“I’m sorry Myc, I kind of zoned out there.” Greg admitted sheepishly.

“It wasn’t noticed.” Mycroft teased. “Abrahms will be back tomorrow for your PT. Malloy will not return.”

Greg blinked, satisfied, but surprised nonetheless. “Really?”

“He had one job, one that you have essentially refused to let him do.”

“For fuck’s sake Mycroft. His one job was to clean up my shit and check my arse and my nappy to make sure I’m not getting a rash!” Greg huffed. “I don’t need the first one, I’ve become damn good at changing myself. And as for the latter I have you. At least you already know what my arse looks like even if it is getting flabby.”

“Speaking of…”

“Hey!”

“You said it…” Mycroft chuckled “Do you want to watch telly down here before dinner or are you ready to head up?”

“Are you working?”

“Unfortunately, I must…”

“Then I’ll stay here for now. See you in a bit.”

“In a bit…” Mycroft leaned in for a kiss before he headed for the office.

Greg watched as Mycroft’s long legs strolled away and did not even pretend he was not checking his husband out. He did not think twice about palming himself until he realized…

Oh… Oh..? Oh! I’m HARD!

“ALPHA!”

Mycroft had stopped dead in his tracks. His husband’s sudden amorous joy came loud and clear through their bond before Gregory called out. He slowly turned and casually leaned against a column, his voice smooth as silk. “Really, Beta?”

It was not something they discussed yet. Neither had brought up the subject, not wanting to upset the other, but it had hung between them each night since Greg came home.It was a most happy revelation to know that while adjustments must be made to do it, the question of IF was no longer a question.

“Really, Alpha!” Greg mischievously grinned, his hand emphasizing the increased tenting that even feeling it through the adult pull it up did not lessen its joy. “ Still have work you must do …?”

“Yes, but apparently not for Crown and Country.” Mycroft’s blue-grey eyes slowly grew dark and lecherous.

He counted himself lucky that he had Mycroft as his partner and Alpha. And was so very grateful they lived in a home with a lift.

He could lay in his own bed with his husband beside him and maybe not love him as he used to, but make love with him nonetheless. He wheeled himself towards Mycroft.

“Race you!”

----

Greg woke in the morning, laying down beside him - for a moment for a beautiful, pristine moment it was as though his life had not changed.

In fact, he had smiled as he reached out for Mycroft, who smiled in return next to him.

Then that smile slowly faltered as they kissed. Greg knew .

And just like that, their bed was the very last place Greg wanted to be.

Greg turned away from his husband as fast as his body allowed.

“Do you want…?” Mycroft asked softly after a moment.

“No! I do not fucking want! Not at all!” Greg yelled as he pounded their bed.

They knew it would happen. Everything was prepared for it. Still, the fore knowledge did not help in the living moment of just the two of them.

Mycroft, bless his soul, did not take umbrage at his yelling. Which made Greg feel all the more guilty as his husband reached for a dressing gown and slowly left the room to give him privacy.

After a point even toddlers will remove a solid nappy, but toddlers are accustomed to someone cleaning them until they learn to clean themselves. Nearly all understand the unspoken shame of not being able to control one’s bodily functions past the tender early years. And it has been several decades since Greg was a tender child.

He has been told, and since read about millions who were either born and learned to live with, or like him have had to suddenly adjust to such a life.Logically he understands this, he does.

It was an arduous process. check that everything was contained, then pull himself out of the bed into the waiting wheelchair and check again because of the shifting and then get to the bathroom to do the actual change.

Yes, it would have been faster, and certainly easier to let Mycroft help. And it certainly is not because he has not Greg’s arse. But he has not seen it like this .

But no, Greg simply… could not .

Still, Greg had felt more disgusted with himself for yelling at Mycroft than he felt from the feel of the soilness now against his skin to be cleaned.

“FUCK!”

----------------------

Read/Comment on AO3

Read from the beginning...

#mystrade #mycroft holmes #greg lestrade #sherlock holmes #john watson #bbc sherlock #johnlock

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ao3feed-merlinarthur · 4 years ago

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by babbling_duck

In a world were omegas rule, alphas protect and betas council, merlin has to prepare his kingdom for war

Words: 868, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English

Fandoms: Merlin (TV), Sherlock (TV), Shadowhunters (TV)

Rating: Not Rated

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M

Characters: Merlin (Merlin), Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Jace Wayland, Uther Pendragon (Merlin), Valentine Morgenstern, Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Mycroft Holmes, Greg Lestrade, Gwaine

Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade

Additional Tags: Crossover, Merlin and sherlock and mycroft are brothers, Jace and arthur are twins, King Merlin (Merlin), King Mycroft Holmes, Omega Merlin (Merlin), Omega Mycroft Holmes, Omega John, Alpha Arthur, Alpha Greg Lestrade, Alpha Sherlock Holmes, Alpha Jace Wayland, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Tags May Change

#AO3 works tagged 'Merlin/Arthur Pendragon'#ao3feed #merthur #ao3feed merthur #ao3feed merlinarthur

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lilietherly · 3 years ago

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[Fanfic! Victorianlock]

Omegaverse.

Declaración de amor implícita.

Sherlock Holmes posesivo.

Omega John Watson/Alfa Sherlock Holmes.

Amor correspondido.

Quizá esta historia sea innecesariamente larga :3, lo siento amor mío, no puedo arrepentirme del todo...

* * *

Watson realmente hacía un esfuerzo en contener su enojo, manteniendo detrás de la espalda sus manos hechas puño y mordiéndose internamente el labio inferior. Casi temblaba de la vasta cantidad de emociones reprimidas, su fuerza de voluntad pocas veces, al tratarse como se trataba ahora de Holmes, se veía tan debilitada ante los sentimientos negativos. Aun conociendo al hombre desde hace poco menos de un año, sabía Watson que no debería tomarse tan a pecho las acciones del detective… Sin embargo…

Sin embargo esta situación lo rebasaba, puso al límite su voluntad y rasgó sus nervios desde el principio. Ofendía a su olfato, a su territorialidad como Omega y, pese a no admitirlo ni para sus adentros dado el dolor que conllevaría, crecía en él tan elevados niveles de celos que Watson mismo se sorprendía. ¿A dónde tendría que buscar, luego de esto, su preciado autocontrol? Estaba perfectamente al tanto del rechazo absoluto que tenía Holmes para con el trato que se le daba a los de su clase, los Alfas. Desde la manera en que todavía se les consideraba todo el tiempo simios esclavos de sus instintos, hasta simples trofeos para que un Omega los presuma y los use como escudo o para su propio placer.

En muchas de las quejas, si no en todas, Watson concordaba con él. A pesar de que esa fuera la perspectiva con la que fue criado y no se esperara nada diferente de él, un Omega Sangre Pura, su experiencia y conocimientos lo llevaron a conclusiones similares a las de Holmes. Watson no obligaría a ningún Alfa a estar con él, tampoco se impondría al Alfa que hubiera elegido ni lo marcaría con su aroma para que ningún otro Omega se acercara. Al tanto de la monumental inteligencia del detective, no quedaba ya duda del error en la antigua creencia que le enseñó a pensarlos como seres apegados enteramente a su instinto Alfa.

… Sin embargo, por la forma en que Watson comenzó a sentirse en el primer momento en que llegó a su nariz el nuevo aroma de Holmes, la mitad de sus convicciones se derrumbó con un simple golpe. De no ser por su entrenado autocontrol, el anhelo de arrancarle la ropa y frotarse contra él hasta eliminar el último rastro de un Omega extraño, nada le habría impedido hacerlo. No se salvó, naturalmente, de no mostrar su desagrado.

—Cálmese, Watson, es solo un perfume, nadie ha invadido su territorio. —Había dicho el detective antes de colocarse su abrigo y salir ambos a la calle, burlándose de los graciosos gestos del Omega, a quien no le causó una pizca de gracia.

Watson haría un mejor uso de sus instintos si un Omega desconocido de repente se hubiera plantado a la mitad de su sala anunciando a gritos que se alojaría ahí de inmediato. Nada se comparaba con el perfume, soberanamente ilegal, que Holmes tuvo la osadía de ponerse para conseguir ‘la pieza clave’ de su caso. Al doctor dejaron de importarle las malditas razones, quien sea que estuviera involucrado en el caso o cuantas cosas sucedieron hasta entonces. Secuestrada su mente en aquel aroma invasivo nada logró mantenerlo lejos del asunto.

Entonces, ahí, de nuevo, su irritación volvía a crecer descontrolada y en cualquier dirección. ¡Por supuesto que invadían su territorio! Y nada menos que una persona inexistente que combinaba con el aroma de Holmes de la manera más nefasta y aberrante. O así le parecía a Watson, que sin haber marcado o impuesto su atracción al detective para obligarlo a corresponderle por ser simplemente un Omega, guardaba muy en sus adentros un pequeño e inútil amor.

Inútil, si la forma en la que Holmes denigraba el cortejo de Alfas a Omegas servía de ejemplo si alguien —Watson— tenía la desafortunada suerte de comenzar a imaginarse estar con él. De nada serviría, aunque lo criaron de ese modo y genuinamente deseaba el cortejo, pese a que Watson lo haría a un lado con tal que un Alfa como Holmes lo hiciera suyo; quedó desde un inicio descartado que el detective lo volviera su Omega.

Considerando las buenas razones en su haber para contrarrestar su ansiedad y ayudar a su autocontrol, Watson aún se esforzaba en la quietud de sus manos, el dominio de su aroma y los celos carcomiendo uno a uno de sus órganos. Holmes lo despreciaría si cediera, si le imponía sus feromonas con el propósito de marcar su territorio, alejar al Omega extraño e inexistente. El Alfa no le pertenecía, él era muy capaz tomar sus decisiones, llevándolo estas a no querer ser el guardián de un Omega, ni su escudo ni un objeto para el placer, y desde luego no para ser presumido como un trofeo delante de otros Omegas.

Incluso si Holmes aprovechaba el aroma de Watson a la hora de rechazar avances indeseados o con el único propósito de quitarse de encima el recelo de quienes aún dudaban de un Alfa tomando el control en asuntos complejos, el doctor entendía que ese era el límite. El uso que el detective le daba no lo rebasaría, y por cuanto le gustara ayudar a la profesión detectivesca de Holmes, los sentimientos de Watson se negaban a retroceder. Bebiendo a agotas lo que le daban, no hubo minuto desde que conoció a Holmes en donde no tuviera sed.

Ese día prometía durar cien años. Watson miraba la escena sin prestar atención, funcionando apenas lo suficiente en la única ocasión en que se le necesitó. Entrando el anochecer, mientras Watson esperaba sentado a un lado de Holmes a que éste actualizara su avance en el caso a Lestrade, el Omega advertía a lo lejos un punto de ruptura. Se recordó en base a los gritos desgarrados de su alma que faltaba poco, en menos de una hora Holmes se daría un baño y con él se iría el repelente aroma: a su lado Omega, doctor y exmilitar, le importó un bledo. Odiaba ese aroma en Holmes, lo odiaba al punto en que se perdió el notable progreso en el caso. Lo odiaba al punto en que su ejercitado autocontrol comenzaba a desvanecerse como lo hizo en su niñez, ante el olor repelente de su padre que cargaba a su alrededor una nube de alcohol rancio, tristeza y enojo eternos.

Lo odiaba al punto en que la sangre extraída de su labio parecía ser lo único que lo anclaba a la silla.

Miró atento a Lestrade, sentado al otro lado del escritorio. Cuánto habría preferido Watson que Holmes se perfumara con el aroma Omega del detective inspector, alguien que conocía y respetaba, en lugar de aquella esencia nauseabunda. Nada podía decir sin que sonara como la orden de un Omega celoso cuyo territorio se verá invadido lo acepte o no, claro, lo controló bien al principio. A partir de la hora tres y las que siguieron es que comenzó a derrumbarse.

Llegado a ese lamentable estado de corrosivos celos, Watson esperaba simplemente llegar a casa, correr a su habitación, cubrir los huecos en la puerta, la cerradura, la ventilación y las ventanas, para dejar que su aroma estalle en una ola que, se supone, volvería a marcar su territorio. Se ataría a la cama, de ser necesario, antes de que su cuerpo le exija perfumar a su Alfa. En ese estado, ¿sobreviviría viajar en el mismo coche que Holmes, al regresar a casa? Sus bajos niveles de autocontrol lo ponían en duda, su mente laxa nada agregaría.

—Antes de que se vayan —dijo Lestrade. Watson advirtió que Holmes comenzaba a levantarse, concentrado en su diatriba no se detuvo a pensar en la conversación perdida sobre el caso—. ¿Me permitiría unas palabras, doctor Watson? A solas, señor Holmes, si no es molestia. —Holmes respondió al tiempo en que extraía su cigarrera.

—En absoluto. Watson, buscaré un coche. —Watson le agradeció con un asentimiento y media sonrisa. Lestrade se apresuró a cerrar la puerta.

—Respira, hombre, respira, deja de contenerlo.

El doctor no pretendió esconder el problema, dando una profunda exhalación liberó una pequeña parte de su aroma dominante, soltó su labio herido y liberó los puños de sus manos. La oficina, pese a ser del inspector, se cubrió con el aroma de Watson inmediatamente. Lestrade le palmeó la espalda, acariciándolo un par de veces a modo de consuelo. Watson respiró de nuevo, las cortas bocanadas regresarían, aunque no antes de entrar a su habitación… quizá. Lestrade se sentó y le ofreció un cigarro que él rechazó.

—¿En qué estabas pensado acompañándolo cuando él apesta de esa forma? Lo juro, John, no te habría culpado si estallaras aquí mismo. —Watson se tocó la sien izquierda, con la tensión reducida comenzaba a aparecer un dolor de cabeza.

—Él entrevistó a un par de Omegas, debía ir con él en caso de que utilizaran sus voces. Y creo que tengo el suficiente autocontrol…

—¿Eso es cierto?

—Puede que no esté dando el mejor ejemplo.

—Lo repetiré. —Watson entró en alerta de inmediato, conocía el tono amenazante de su amigo.

—Por favor, no…

—Él te aceptará.

—Greg, por favor.

—Él estaría encantado. —El doctor golpeó su espalda en el respaldo de la silla, hastiado colocó la palma izquierda sobre sus ojos—. Lo conozco desde hace quince años, John, acepto que no somos unidos y que si no fuera por las niñas aún estaría en contra de que me haya unido con su hermano. Dios, él aún se niega a llamarme por mi nombre. Eso no quiere decir que lo crea un extraño, tú sabes cuánto lo aprecio.

—¿Te refieres a las advertencias que me diste al conocernos? —Preguntó Watson medio sarcástico, aquella entrevista luego del primer caso al que Holmes lo llevó le hizo también conocer al líder de la familia Holmes.

El agradable aunque gruñón —y peligroso, en el peor de los casos— detective inspector Greg Holmes-Lestrade, que tomó el mando de la pequeña manada Holmes al convertirse en el Omega del hijo mayor, le pidió a Watson asistir a una pequeña reunión en su oficina al ser el nuevo compañero de habitaciones del Holmes menor. La charla, como Lestrade, fue corta, concisa y directa al punto. Watson se sorprendió por eso: la manera en que aquella entrevista contrastó las claras amenazas de los Omegas a cargo de las familias con cuyos Alfas tuvo algo antes de encontrarse a Holmes, difirió de tal forma entre ellas que no evitó acercarse a él. La amistad que floreció a partir de ese momento en absoluto les sorprendió a ambos.

Cierto es que al inicio el punto de conversación no se alejaba demasiado del detective. Conforme más se conocían, sin embargo, Watson descubrió al inspector como un hombre lleno de experiencias y conocimiento que nunca dudaba en compartir. Solo a quien podía ganárselo, dijo una vez, haciendo sentir al doctor como un verdadero miembro de la pequeña manada. Del inspector provenía una parte considerable del manejo en el autocontrol de Watson al tratarse del Holmes menor. También de él obtuvo la sabiduría Omega para contrarrestar el feroz instinto posesivo cuando alguien se acercara a su Alfa elegido.

Y Lestrade tenía un Alfa que se entrevistaba al menos tres veces al año con una Gamma. Si el hombre sobrevivía al hecho de que su esposo estuviera en un lugar cerrado donde una persona emitía un aroma que elimina cualquier rastro de un Omega Sangre Pura en un parpadeo, Watson comprendía que debía saber algo. Se le recompensó favorablemente por su confianza.

El inspector no se burló de él al descubrir su enamoramiento por el Holmes menor, ni siquiera luego de todas las negativas de Watson acerca de estar junto a él solo por el techo seguro, que al conseguir un buen trabajo y ahorrar un par de libras buscaría otro lugar. Lestrade le palmeó la espalda y, como primer sabio consejo, le recomendó empezar a hacerse a la idea de que probablemente Holmes lo alejaría de él primero. Tras un par de meses observando sus interacciones, el lapso de convivencia que se extendía semana tras semana sin verse alguna señal de que terminaría pronto y los favorables cambios del joven Holmes: Lestrade concluyó en un resultado que no dudó en señalarle a Watson.

Watson evadió el tema desde entonces, y desde entonces, Lestrade intentaba hacérselo ver en cada oportunidad. Parecía, en aquella inusitada escena, el estado actual del doctor podría hacerlo ceder bajo la insistencia del inspector. Ambos lo sabían: uno lo temía, el otro aguardaba su esperanza. Los dos, incluso si no se notaba a simple vista, luchaban por lo que creían mejor para el mismo hombre.

—Conoces las reglas, soy el Omega Mayor, aunque la dulce madre de Mycroft sufra en la eternidad por la idea. Debía darte, lo hayamos querido o no, un par de advertencias sobre no lastimar a mi manada… Nuestra, si continuas en este encantador camino.

—No voy a hacerlo, Greg, me enseñaste muy bien —replicó Watson, pretendiendo usar un tono de sentencia, que, para su desafortunada suerte, terminó revelando cansancio y frustración. Lestrade resopló, cayendo contra el respaldo de su silla.

—De verdad, John, no sé por qué…

—¡Porque él no me ama! —Estalló Watson, levantándose de golpe, sus puños cerrados fuertemente se estrellaron contra el escritorio—. ¡¿Cómo puedo hacer algo?! ¡Si él prefiere arriesgarse a comprar un maldito perfume de feromonas Omega, en lugar de venir a mí y pedir un poco de mi aroma! No tengo nada más que tu palabra, Greg, te confío una variedad de asuntos, esto es… Incluso perdiendo el control sé que no obtendré nada de él. Y si lo hago, si pierdo… si lo pierdo...

A Watson le resultó imposible continuar. Le dolía el corazón, respiraba a bocanadas cortas, el escozor en sus ojos dificultaba su visión. Recogió la poca dignidad que aún pudiera conservar y, sin darle una última mirada a Lestrade ni agradecerle por el desahogo, se marchó. El detective se molestaría si no lo alcanzaba pronto. Arreglándose el saco y tragándose las lágrimas, Watson abrió la puerta.

Holmes estaba frente a él, pálido. El doctor observó la forma en que esa palidez se completaba con un marcado ceño fruncido.

—No importa la clase de ideas que pretenda superar, ¿cierto? —murmuró el Alfa con los dientes apretados—. Es difícil, en especial para usted, mi querido Watson, superar tan fácilmente las creencias que le implantaron desde la cuna. Ególatras Omegas, usted y Lestrade, peleándose por decidir lo que sería mejor para mí.

—Holmes… —Watson intentó hablar.

—No, no aquí. —Dio media vuelta y comenzó a caminar hacia la salida. El Omega, sin mirar a ninguno de los ojos curiosos de las personas alrededor, lo siguió, un par de pasos detrás.

Pese a la ola de perfume anteriormente liberada por Watson, su aroma retrocedía ante la feroz emoción del detective. Atravesando los pasillos y abriéndose paso entre la gente, todos, incluso los Betas, retrocedían al percibir el aroma de Holmes. Aferrándose al último gramo de su autocontrol, Watson tuvo la fuerza para no desmayarse al observar el poder y el enojo irradiando de su Alfa elegido, sin arrepentirse lo suficiente sobre que tal negativo sentimiento se debía en parte a él. Confiaba en el hombre, sabía que no planeaba hacerle daño y, si bien no esperaba impaciente lo que estuviera por decirle, aún podía disfrutar aquella muestra de dominio frente a otros Alfa y Beta.

Porque Holmes decía la verdad, quizá Watson haya rechazado a cada pretendiente Alfa en su búsqueda por un compañero que rebasara las expectativas aprendidas. Un compañero que no sea un simple escudo, más una mascota para protegerlo y decirle lo perfecto que era, que halagara cuanto hiciera y mostrara agradecimiento por haber sido elegido para procrear con él la siguiente generación. Pero Holmes, el hombre inteligente, tenaz e incansable del que se enamoró, acertaba en su acusación.

Watson mentiría si negara el querer al menos un poco de aquella posesividad Alfa al sentir amenazado el territorio del Omega que debía proteger. Quería halagos, quería ser el Orgullo de Holmes al haber sido aceptado por un Omega como él. Quería ser presumido en sociedad y ser deleitado en la cama, así como ser quien pueda presumir de un Alfa como Holmes y recompensar su esfuerzo, demostrar físicamente su amor a él. Si con ello un par de errores respecto a la autonomía de Holmes, su capacidad de tomar decisiones propias, se imponían, Watson estaba dispuesto a pedir disculpas. Tras veinte años de imposiciones, no se desharía fácilmente si se contaba la casi década en un camino que él mismo denominaba el correcto. Esperado es que cometiera errores, en especial tratándose del primer Alfa que lo hacía desear tener un ápice de aquello para “lo que nació”.

—¿Doctor Watson, necesita usted ayuda? —La voz interrumpió la diatriba interna de Watson a la vez que detuvo el avance de Holmes.

El doctor miró asustado al oficial Kenneth: un joven Alfa Sangre Ligera, que gustaba de charlar con la primera persona que se cruzara en su camino y que, en un par de ocasiones, habló con él mientras esperaba a que Holmes revisara la escena del crimen. Ese momento no debía ser una de ellas, el joven fallaba por completo en leer la situación. Algo que el resto de oficiales e inspectores lograron perfectamente.

Conociendo el campo de juego, Watson se acercó a Holmes sin decir palabra. Asintió hacia el oficial y le hizo una señal con la mano para que retrocediera. Holmes gruñó, sosteniendo la mano extendida del Omega retomó su camino. Bajo esa clase intensiva sobre la positividad Alfa frente a medio Scotland Yard, Watson cayó irremediablemente. No le importaban ya los reclamos que Holmes quisiera hacerle respecto a lo que pudo o no haber dicho en su diatriba con Lestrade, el detective podría morderlo en la nuca justo en ese momento y Watson se lo permitiría. Caería débil en sus brazos sin ninguna duda. Vio fácilmente ahora lo que Holmes exigía de él. ¿El autocontrol se perdió no solo para Watson? La muestra de dominio lo dejaba claro.

Watson se apresuró a entrar en el coche que los esperaba, yendo tan al fondo del growler como resultará posible. Tampoco es que entendiera la razón de ello, sus instintos clamaban por que hiciera lo posible en calmar a su Alfa. Aumentaba en niveles inconcebibles el afán de borrar la esencia del Omega extraño y sobre todo eso, dejar en claro a quién pertenecía, mostrar su cuello límpido y permitirse marcar. Al sentarse Holmes en el asiento del extremo contrario, cerrando la puerta de golpe, el silencio dominante detuvo sus agitados pensamientos. Una vez el coche inició el camino, el aroma detestable comenzó a filtrarse entre el amenazante perfume de Holmes y las receptivas feromonas de Watson.

—Vas a soportarlo hasta que lleguemos a casa, ese será el pago a cambio de olvidarme que intentaste decidir por mí en un asunto que me involucra tan directamente, ¿lo entiendes? —cuestionó el Alfa con voz firme, evitando darle la cara al doctor, quien tembló al escucharlo. Su lado Omega susurrándole correr hacia el detective y eliminar aquel tufo de una vez y para siempre. Pese a ello, respetó la decisión de su Alfa.

—Sí.

—Al llegar, puedes ceder a lo que anhelas desde que me atreví a usar este maldito perfume de feromonas Omega.

Watson casi saltó en su lugar, sabía ahora que Holmes estuvo presente en la parte más importante de su patético discurso, ganarse enseguida el permiso de soltar los restos de su autocontrol superó el problema demasiado rápido. No aprendería nada esta vez, ridículo sería hacerlo, y maldito sea Watson si su mente lograra pensamientos de tamaña complejidad como para estudiar el tema a ese nivel. El Omega no encontraba en sus adentros ideas que superaran la ansiedad de soltar su aroma y marcar al detective. La emoción ya se filtraba de su piel, podía notar el comienzo de una erección y la calidez en su interior comenzando la lubricación.

El viaje a casa fue eterno, silencioso de tal modo que el interés gritaba libremente entre los dos. Yendo y viniendo, creciendo cual bola de nieve bajo la promesa ya inminente por deshacerse en posesividad líquida una vez alcanzaran el 221B.

Watson no esperó a que el coche se estabilizara, salió corriendo al detenerse el caballo. Abrió la puerta en un segundo, subió las escaleras mientras se deshacía de la corbata, desabrochados cada botón se despojó de cada prenda conforme alcanzaba el baño. Tras una rápida limpieza, ya desnudo, asegurado de que no olía a nadie más que a sí mismo y con la sensación de lubricante descendiendo por sus muslos, esperó en la cama de Holmes. Él aún estaría abajo, dándoles un tiempo para respirar, la inteligencia del Alfa sobreponiéndose al lado salvaje que liberarían al encontrarse de nuevo.

Recostado sobre las sábanas, con las piernas casi por completo extendidas y usando un brazo para sostener su peso, inhalando el perfume de Holmes, Watson escuchó los primeros pasos en las escaleras. Tragó la saliva acumulada, en absoluto nervioso, sobradamente necesitado de marcar su territorio y ser parte del territorio de Holmes… ser su Omega, hacerlo su Alfa. Dispuesto a dejar a un lado el cortejo, las creencias y cada regla imperiosa que aún tuviera implantada. Abandonaría todo si con ello pudiera tener a Holmes, si Holmes lo aceptaba.

Cerró así los ojos, inclinó la cabeza hacia el hombro derecho, colocando los brazos sueltos a los lados continuó liberando su aroma, reclamando el lugar, marcándolo. Al oír la puerta de la habitación abrirse, sonrió, esperando el momento sin abrir los ojos. Pasos resonaron contra la madera vieja, una prenda cayó al suelo, una mano de largos dedos y piel marcada acarició tiernamente su mejilla. Un susurro de voz ronca hizo morir al pesado silencio.

—He despreciado toda mi vida la forma en que los Omegas, creyéndose superiores, han sobajado a Betas y Alfas. ¿Sabes entonces la contradicción que significas para mí, John?, ¿serás alguna vez consciente de cada ocasión en que resistí el impulso de marcarte, alejarte de todos, imponer mi aroma en ti para que jamás nadie se sintiera con el derecho de estar cerca tuyo?

El doctor perdió entonces la capacidad de pensar, de razonar, de sentir por el hombre frente a él emoción alejada del amor, admiración y pasión absoluta que, al fin, luego de tanto tiempo, se le permitía soltar. Una de las rodillas de Holmes cayó al suelo, sus brazos de engañoso brío se ciñeron a la cintura del Omega.

Watson, con el permiso dado, no esperó a que el Alfa subiera a la cama con él, abrió los ojos al tiempo en que se lazaba hacia Holmes. Su ceño fruncido y el corazón destrozado dentro de su pecho, carentes ya de paciencia. Acorralaron sus muslos las caderas delgadas de Holmes, de inmediato comenzó a arrancarle la camisa, cualquier intención de detenerlo fallaría en ese punto.

—¿Vas a perfumarme, Omega? —preguntó el detective, burlándose: al doctor no podría importarle menos.

Al quitarle la camisa emprendió el camino hacia los pantalones, Watson olvidó el protocolo, su orgullo, su gracia, su dignidad de Omega, el actuar delicado que nunca tuvo y la maldita prudencia cultivada. El hedor desaparecería en ese momento.

—¡Mío! —gritó.

Y nada habría de ser más evidentemente cierto.

* * *

¡Aaah!, es la primera vez que utilizo la palabra "manada" y estoy nerviosa porque no puedo imaginarme cómo lo tomarás ><, espero que no me dejes con la duda y, como siempre, deseo que esta historia te haya gustado :3

Si todo sale bien, nos leeremos pronto.

¡Te amo! Gracias por leer :D <3 <3 <3

#johnlock en español #fanfic en español #omegaverse #john watson #sherlock holmes #acd canon #greg lestrade #omega john watson #alpha sherlock holmes #omega greg lestrade #holmesxwatson #sherlock x john

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