#angry sherlock fics | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mybelovedwoo · 2 years ago

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i'm glad i have you with me

bff!san x f!reader

fluff, comfort, childhood best friends to lovers (slow burn) / wc:1.3k

warnings: cheating, crying, swear words, cuddling

note: so tell me how you liked this one. i am a bit nervous because this is my first non-wooyoung fic, but i really enjoyed writing it. please stay tuned in the future for other members' fics too. if you want to be tagged in any of my fics you can apply here <3

san masterlist - main masterlist

Sitting on a couch at a house party all alone with people you don't know, there's literally any other place you would rather be. Originally you came with you're boyfriend Seungjun, but you haven't seen him in hours. You weren't much of a party person, but this time you accompanied him, because he begged you for days for it, but now you are starting to regret it honestly.

You take out your phone from your back pocket, but before you open it, you look around once more to see if your boyfriend pops up somewhere, you are out of luck, so after you unlocked it, the first thing you open is your messages. Your fingers linger over Seungjun's name, but it says he's been unavailable for hours, no shit Sherlock, you think. Instead, you scroll down a bit and open the messages for your best friend, San.

You know well that he probably not gonna answer, because it's Saturday night, and he is most definitely out with his friends too. You don't care, you try it anyway, he is your best chance to rescue you out of this hell. "Hey, San." is the first you send, you're not sure what to write him, you don't want to bother him. "What are you doing?" you wait a few minutes, but he's not responding, his phone is probably on mute. "I'm kinda bored, I don't know where Seungjun went. I need your rescue ㅠㅠ." Nothing, no response. You feel really annoyed at this point, but not because San, poor boy did nothing wrong, it is just a bad moment. "You know what I'm gonna look for Seungjun. Don't worry and have fun." You lock your phone and put it back in your back pocket.

You look around the kitchen, then in the yard, but you don't see him anywhere. You are getting kinda worried that maybe he left you there. At last, you walk up the stairs, the hallway is full of kissing couples, who must have only met tonight. The moment you enter one of the rooms, you regret everything you did until now. Your boyfriend was there with another girl you had never seen before, doing things you never expected him to do with anyone except for you.

You didn't know what to do in the big shock, but you didn't speak up, maybe they didn't even notice you or just didn't care. But you turned around and hurried down the stairs, unable to control your tears. You just needed some fresh air, you had to get out of this place immediately. You crashed out of the entrance of the house and fell down to the stairs. Sitting there you didn't even think, you were already calling San. This is urgent now.

Your phone didn't even ring for two seconds when they already answered it. "Hey Y/N, is everything okay? I'm sorry my phone was on mute I haven't seen your texts. Have you found Seungjun? Wait, are you crying?" You couldn't even speak, though you wanted to tell him everything. "Y/N please say something! What happened? Are you hurt?" You took three big breaths to calm yourself down enough to talk a few words. "He cheated on me. Could you come to pick me up?" You didn't have to say more. "I've already sat in the car the minute I saw your messages, don't worry. I'll be there soon."

He wasn't lying, he got there in record time. You watched as he pulled up with his car to the driveway of the house. When he gets out of the car, is only when you get up from the stairs you've been sitting on. San rushed towards you at a high speed, so you didn't have time to move even an inch in his way.

"Where is that dickhead?" He asked with blunt words when he got to you. He seemed really angry, maybe even angrier than you, you had never in your life seen him like this before. You shrugged, implying that you don't know and don't care either. But that was not enough for him. "Is he still inside there?" You started to get a little worried.

"I think so. But please don't make a scene, let's just go home." You pulled him through his forearm when he already started walking to the entrance. "Wait for me in the car, okay? I'll be quick, I'm not gonna do anything he doesn't deserve, I swear." He said to you, while he stroked your face with his right hand. You hesitated, but who are you to tell him what to do, so you went up to his car and sat on the passenger side for like five minutes.

At this point you didn't care much about waiting a little longer, that's what you did all night long. San slammed the door behind himself, and somehow he looked even angrier than before. He got in the car next to you and when he looked at you his expression softened. "What did you do?" You asked him with a sobby voice. "I just showed him where he belonged. Let's just say he went swimming." You look down at his hands and you see it's all bruised up.

He started the engine. "San, I don't wanna go home. What if he comes there?" You didn't know what to do, since he had a key to your apartment. You couldn't bare to see his face once more.

"We're going to my place." He didn't even hesitate. You slept at his place many times now, but not since you started dating Seungjun. San was worried when you found out you are going to different colleges, he was afraid that you wouldn't spend as much time together as you used to. But you thought that was nonsense since you have been best friends since you were very little, you grew up together.

He never liked Seungjun, he always said he didn't deserve you. But he was your first boyfriend, and you were blinded with love, at least that's what you thought. Looking back, you also know that he didn't treat you well, but you don't know that when you're in it.

Entering San's apartment, all you could think about was that you needed to get some sleep asap. Weariness hit you the moment you got hit by the heat of the comfortable room. You didn't want to bother San with your presence, you don't know what plans he had.

You've been quite comfortable in here, so you decided to lie down on the couch in the living room. "What are you doing?" Asked San, entering the room with a glass of water in his hand.

"Sleeping. I'm really tired." You mumbled, not able to speak properly.

"You can't sleep here. Go to my room, there is my bed. I'll sleep on the couch." You sat up at his statement. "No, you can't. This is your place." There's no way you letting him sleep out here in the cold living room when he has his own warm bed just a room away. "Let's sleep both in the bed. I think it's big enough for the both of us." You said. It's not like this is the first time you sleep in the same bed, you always fell asleep next to each other when you were little.

"Are you sure?" He hesitated. "We are not so small anymore." The joke made you both laugh, it made his heart clench to see you happy again.

After you took a warm shower, he gave you a big shirt of his and a jogger pant that was definitely too big for you. You got under the cover, San was already there, lying down. He turned off the lamp on the bedside table, which illuminated the whole room until now.

As soon as it got dark your eyes started watering again, you remember everything that happened today. All of a sudden, you feel a pair of hands slip on your waist. San hugged you tightly from behind. "I got you." He whispered in your ears. He didn't let go of you all night long, you woke up in the same position the next morning.

#san #ateez #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez imagine #choi san #san x reader #ateez san #ateez san fluff #childhood best friends to lovers #friends to lovers #slowburn romance #san x you #san comfort #bff san #san imagine #ateez fanfic

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pantasticloser · 4 months ago

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I wrote a Sherlock and Co fic on my phone while the internet is down. Kind of a preslash jonklock. Fic under the cut. It's also posted on Ao3 here

In So Few Words

Summary:

For a split second, a mere blip really, as his eyes open, John almost wonders if it would hurt this badly if the bullet had just killed him outright.

Set the morning after The Dancing Men pt 3.

For a split second, a mere blip really, as his eyes open, John almost wonders if it would hurt this badly if the bullet had just killed him outright. He groans, rubbing his hands up the stubble on his jaw and over his eyes, flinching and cursing under his breath at the deep achey pull from the left side of his ribs. If he didn't have to pee he'd lay here all day.

John forces himself out of bed and drags himself to the bathroom. He's just got his sleep pants, a hideous orange color his mum gifted him, and he forgoes trying to find a shirt. Moving his arms that much makes his side flare up just thinking about it. After handling his business, he takes a moment to look at the damage. It's ugly all right, maybe not as bad as the Ied burn, but hideous nonetheless. He traces the edges with his eyes.

It's a raised purple splotch in the middle, working its way through the rainbow in outward moving rings. Underneath he knows there's a rib with a hairline fracture and bruised bones, but there was also a pair of lungs breathing and a heart that kept beating, so pain or no, he was lucky he'd worn the vest.

Down in the kitchen he can hear Sherlock pacing, back and forth, 8 steps one way, then a turn, 8 steps again, repeat. God, Sherlock. John had been petrified when Slaney fired the gun, too busy falling and having the air slammed out of him to do much but wheeze, but Sherlock had never sounded more scared than when he'd screamed John's name. He'd also never been scarier than when he'd tried to kill an already dying man. Not scary, John corrects. He could never be afraid of Sherlock, but dangerous, yes. Sherlock was dangerous, fascinating and deadly.

The stumble to the kitchen isn't what John would call graceful. He damn near trips over Archie on the way as the dog lays snoring in the middle of the floor, and every step tugs on his skin, but he grits his teeth and bears it.

Fate would have it that he missed the dog just to slam into Sherlock mid step anyways. John can't help the hiss that comes out as he flinches back, instinctually slapping a hand over his ribs as he breathes out slowly. "Sorry Sherlock, I wasn't paying attention."

Silence meets him, and John doesn't realize he's closed his eyes until he opens them to an eye full of panicked detective.

To anyone else, Sherlock would look annoyed, maybe even angry, but John knows that tilt of his mouth, and the intensity of his gaze. It's worry. His eyes are locked onto John's side, mouth opening and closing just a fraction, like he's trying to speak but never finishes the first word. "Sherlock? Are you okay?"

Sherlocks mouth clicks shut audibly, and his mouth presses into a thin line as he nods once, and whirls around to the kitchen counter. Before he has time to think, a plate has been pressed into John's hands, and he's being herded to the couch, gently but insistently by hands on his shoulders.

"You made me...breakfast?" John hazards. It's beans on toast, a bit too wet for his liking and a side of eggs, overdone. Sherlock nods again, more hesitantly this time as he drops onto the opposite end of the couch. The man curls himself up in a way John thinks should be impossible. Long legs tucked up in front of his chest, arms wrapped around and his chin on his knees. A finger points at the plate, then to John's face and he gets the meaning right away. "Okay, okay mate I'll eat." He shoves in a fork full of egg, and mumbles a thanks in between bites.

The silence stretches on, and it's not that John's a prude, but the staring is beginning to make his skin crawl. He finishes quickly, setting the plate down perhaps a little too roughly and tries to turn to Sherlock. Big mistake that, and his ribs scream at him as he gasps. "Fuck, that was stupid." He breathes out in a slow measured breath before he turns just his head to Sherlock this time. The worried look is back, even more intensely this time.

"Is there a uh, particular reason? You're giving me the silent treatment?"

He should've expected the eye rolling, really, but Sherlock is shoving a phone into his view shortly thereafter, a section of article highlighted.

John mutters as he reads. "Some autistic individuals may experience bouts of being non-verbal, as opposed to a constant state. The exact cause of these triggers is unknown, but it's often assumed that stress and overstimulation can contribute. Huh, so you're okay then? Just a bit too much excitement yesterday?"

The withering look he's given tells him excitement was the wrong word to use. "Sorry, not excitement. Bad word, won't do it again, scout's honor." An eye roll this time. He can work with this. "You are though, right? Okay, that is?"

The phone is pulled back, and after a moment of furious typing, it's thrust back into his vision. It's the note app, and in bold font it reads 'I'm not the one who got shot.'

"Well yeah," John snorts, "Slaney got shot, quite a lot actually and well obviously he's not okay he's dead, pretty thoroughly and-" his voice drops off. At that moment, John wonders if this is what Sherlock feels like when a case reveals itself, when everything falls into place."You mean me. You mean that I got shot."

A solem nod and a look that's calling him a moron without so many words.

"Sherlock, I'm okay. A bit bruised, possibly with Marianas cold coming on but I'm, really." He pushes Sherlocks hand with the phone down, leaving his atop as he holds it to the cushions. "You don't have to make me breakfast, though I do appreciate it, or stare at me like I'm going to drop dead".

John lifts his hand from Sherlocks and brings it up onto the back of the couch, gesturing with his right to his open side. "See? Just some bruising and a hairline fracture. Nothing too bad."

John would like to say he doesn't startle easily, but having a grown man very suddenly in his space has him frozen mid breath. Sherlock has his gaze locked on his bruise, and slowly, a large warm hand is resting over his ribs.

Sherlock is gentle about it, sweeping his hand over John's side, prodding medically and methodically, but decidedly gently as well. It would almost be ticklish if it wasn't hurting so much, but the warmth feels nice and John relaxes back into the couch as much as he can and lets his eyes shut.

When Sherlock seems to be done, he lets them open just a sliver, but the worried look is still there. "It wasn't your fault, Sherlock."

Intense eyes snap to John's, and he'd flinch if he had the energy. "It's nobodys fault but Slaney’s." Slowly, so he can pull back if he wishes, John takes Sherlocks hand in his own and brings it to his chest, right over his heart. "I'm alive, healthy as a horse, well not like the ones we've met those ones were messed up-"

Sherlock seems to relax at the contact, letting out a small chuckle as his hand presses further into John's heartbeat. John continues. "The point is, I'm okay. I’m okay, you're okay, Mariana's okay other than her cold."

A solemn nod. This clearly isn't working to make Sherlock relax completely. One last idea then.

"Would a um, would a hug? Make you feel better?" John doesn't get a verbal answer, not that he was expecting one, but he does get a lap full of detective. Sherlocks arms are thrown around his neck, and he's hunched himself down, legs across John's lap and head tucked into the curve of his jaw. For the first time this morning, John can see the tension finally begin to leave Sherlocks frame, and he wraps one arm around his middle, the other hand coming across the back of Sherlock's head, pulling him into where John knows he's listening to his pulse. "I'll take that as a yes to the hugging, then."

Sherlocks breath is warm on John's collarbone, and the hair is soft as John threads his fingers through it. "I'll be okay. I'm hurt, my pride is definitely hurt, but bodies heal." He gives Sherlock a gentle squeeze before tipping his head back into the cushion just a fraction.

He should get up. Should remove Sherlock and take care of Archie and the editing for the episode, but Sherlock is warm and alive in his arms, and John lets sleep pull him back under. The doctor did say to rest after all.

#sherlock and co #jonklock #johnlock #the dancing men part 3 #fanfiction #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #pre slash #sherlock & co #sherlock holmes #john watson

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thegildedbee · 6 months ago

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Do-Over: May 20 Prompt from @calaisreno

Program Note: Since there are a bunch of these posties, I've also stuck them onto my ao3 site since that's easier than my going back through tumblr later if I end up trying to make them grow up into a real fic :-) You can also find them at the May 2024 Prompts collection, in the company of multitudes of breathtakingly creative ficsters and their fics to read and treasure, organized by @calaisreno -- what a maestro they are, with setting in motion this whole fantabulous outpouring of mayday-mayhem and orchestrating it all month long, amirite? Yes, I am! :-) ........................................................................... “Really? Really? I can’t even open a goddamn email message without getting knocked about and run over and pissed on,” John fumes, trapped in a fight-or-flight reaction that is equal parts fight and equal parts flight, making his head feel like it’s going to explode. He throws his coffee cup against the wall, and his only regret is that the effort does nothing in terms of relieving any of the pressure. “Of course it doesn’t,” he says through clenched teeth.

The last weeks have been an agony. The first weekend in February had ushered in heavy rains and sharp winds, which had him making his way across London while dragging his boots through grimy slush that inevitably trickled its way inside his socks in icy rivulets. He landed on his arse at one point while crossing the road, which annoyed the already angry drivers who leaned on their horns as they skidded around him.

He’d stayed inside for the next four days, until the sun appeared for a brief flirtation with the city before being swallowed up by the charcoal ash-smudged clouds once again.

He knows, obviously, that one month out from Sherlock’s funeral, that it's still early days for being able to have any sort of balance inside, but still, he hadn’t thought that there were bottoms below the bottoms to which he’d already plummeted. But whether he acknowledges it forthrightly or not, part of what is driving his internal fury is the incessant advertising for Valentine’s Day. It makes him want to take his gun and shoot a skull and crossbones into the nearest brick wall.

Staring at the mess of ceramic shards and wild splatters of coffee, he puts his hands on his hips and hangs his head. “You need to get it out, John,” he spits out in a whiny, imitative falsetto. “Say it now, John. Say what you didn’t say.”

There was the huge British Airways billboard, of a blue sky with a white fluffy cloud in the shape of a heart, with a jet and its contrail slicing through it like a cupid’s arrow:

“London to Singapore: This Valentine’s Day, Say it With an Escape Voucher.”

Escape. Right.

There was the Twitter campaign on the Underground, with large mock-ups of sarcastic dating tweets, like:

*finds a soulmate.* *swipes left in hope of finding a hotter soulmate.*

The mass text message from Angelo’s, advertising the Valentine’s Day prix fixe dinner:

“Eat with Your Heart.”

Today, though. Could this be any more ludicrous? It was nothing but a mundane email message, to be sent to the trash in a trice. But.

It was one of those emails, where the writer puts an inspirational quote underneath their signature.

“There are no do-overs, but there are second chances.”

Oh, yes, he was feeling so uplifted, now. So appreciative of the earnest guidance. So motivated to become more self-aware.

" . . . there are second chances."

Like hell there are.

He hears the sound of the door opening, and of his sister bustling into the vestibule, chattering and gesticulating her way toward the kitchen with her usual noise and bluster.

"Hey, Johnny? You home?” she asks, as she rounds the corner, stopping short at the sight of the smoldering vibrations he's giving off. “Oh. There you are. What happened?”

John shakes his head, giving her a sardonic smile. “I don’t know what to tell you, Harry. The mug just jumped right out of my hand and ran into the wall.”

She looks at him sideways, immediately aware from his tone that something is clearly gravely amiss, that the shattered cup is just the tip of something harsher. Although, when wasn’t he finding something amiss? It's been a never-ending rotation of anger, depression, anger, depression, anger, depression.

“I picked up some groceries," she says, cautiously. "There’s some of that ice cream you like. Also fruit and veg if you’re going to take a stab at fighting off the scurvy you've got coming on.”

John walks into the kitchen, his demeanor collapsing from rage to stoicism. “Hey. Let me help.”

“Sure, thanks, Johnny. Oh, I wanted to ask you for a favor – it’s a bit daft, but I thought I’d just give it a shot."

“Okay.”

“Trina wants to go to a film on Valentine’s Day. Would it be possible for you to watch her two kids for a few hours at her place?”

John stares at her in disbelief, pulling back his neck and peering at her with skepticism.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah," she says, hurriedly. "I see that’s going over real well. Never mind.”

John shakes his head. "Harry, it's just that I have no idea if I can be in charge of someone's kids right now. I imagine I could, but it’s not exactly in my wheelhouse. I mean, safety first, with kids, and I'm not in the best head."

Harry brushes her shoulder against his, trying to lighten the mood. "Are you serious? Can you handle kids? What about living with Sherlock – you said it was like running a day nursery sometimes. And you kept him out of trouble just fine, kept him in one piece -- ”

Her hand flies to her mouth and her eyes go impossibly wide. “Oh no, I’m so sorry, Johnny, oh no, I didn’t think, I just let my mouth run on.” She looks at him standing there, rigid except for a slow inhale, and a scary length of time holding his breath, until he finally begins to let it escape in stingy exhalations. She tries to explain, with, “It’s just, you know, you always said it was like managing a child at times" -- and his expression is really alarming her now -- "oh no, never mind, I will shut up. Right now. I'm so sorry."

John says nothing. He turns his head to the side and looks behind him; looks above him; looks at Harry; looks down at his feet; clenches his hands; unclenches his hands; clenches his hands again; starts to say something; stops; shakes his head; looks at Harry again; rolls his eyes; and throws up his hands.

“That’s it. Harry, this isn't because of the last few moments, it’s just I'm at the end of my rope after a very bad few weeks. Look. I just need to get out of here. I'm going to go away for a few days. I appreciate what you're doing for me, and for being able to be here, but just for now, I need to get away."

“Okay, John," she says, placatingly, contrite. "I’m sorry, I really –” she stops when he holds up his hand.

“Not the issue, Harry. Truly.”

“But where are you going to go? Are you going to be okay?” she says urgently, worried about this sudden turn of events, and what it might mean.

“I don’t know," John says plainly, shrugging his shoulders. "I may just go to the train station and throw a dart at the departures board. But, look, I’m going to grab a few things and then I’ll be off. Best have me out the way for yourself as well.”

Not stopping to double-guess himself or to have to explain himself further, John jogs over to his room and hastily grabs at the first few things he sees that he might need, stuffs them into his rucksack, puts on his heavy coat, and gives Harry a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll let you know where I land.”

"Promise, Johnny?”

“Promise.”

John practically runs out the door, feeling like he's flying apart, and wanting to get outside and to start moving toward something, somewhere, even if it’s just pretend. He loves London, he does. So much, but he's been so many places around the city with Sherlock for so many different reasons, it’s an atlas of emotion that he is always aware of. To be honest, he also doesn’t want to leave London right now, for the same reason; London means Sherlock, and he wants to hold on to as much of him as he can right now.

Fight or flight.

He wonders: should he visit Sherlock's grave? Would that help him shake some of this? No, the gravesite is an ending, and he doesn’t want to be reminded of endings, of feeling like he's being ground into the pavement by a merciless force.

Some place that is a memory of beginnings? Bart’s is out, he says to himself with a harsh chuckle. Not 221B.

Where then?

He thinks back to those first days, and pulls up his general knowledge of London transport and pleads with it to find him an answer.

Paddington, it says. Paddington? Ah, he knows this. All right, then: Paddington.

He’s going to Cardiff.

........................................................

@calaisreno @totallysilvergirl @friday411 @peanitbear @original-welovethebeekeeper

@helloliriels @a-victorian-girl @keirgreeneyes @starrla89 @naefelldaurk

@topsyturvy-turtely @lisbeth-kk @raina-at @jobooksncoffee @meetinginsamarra

@solarmama-plantsareneat @bluebellofbakerstreet @dragonnan @safedistancefrombeingsmart @jolieblack

@msladysmith @ninasnakie @riversong912 @dapetty

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#mayprompts2024 #calaisreno #sherlock bits and bobs #may prompts 2024 #johnlock

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inevitably-johnlocked · 6 months ago

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Hi hi! This seems to be a lot less common than John having anger issues, but do you know any good fics in which Sherlock flies into a rage? Possibly stunning those around him? Could also be meltdown fics! Thank you so much, and I wanted to tell you I really appreciate your blog! I have been enjoying your fic recs for years and years and I'm really grateful for that!

Hey Nonny!

Ohhh, good request! Closest I've got for you are the fics on my Cranky Sherlock lists:

Cranky Sherlock

Cranky Sherlock Pt. 2 | [MOBILE POST]

Those lists have some feral Sherlock fics on it :) AS WELL, I have a few fics on this Community Recs list you might like too

Nothing immediately comes to mind otherwise.

Anyone have something they want to offer to Nonny??

#steph replies #chatting with nonnies #johnlock fic reqs #cranky sherlock fics #angry sherlock fics #feral character fics #help steph find fics

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padfootdaredmetoo · 1 year ago

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I come with requests (pls). You can decide if it has smut or not but-

SHERLOCK (ENOLA HOLMES VERSION) IS TALKING TO IRENE AND Y/N IS JEALOUS CUZ HE SEEMS TO FLIRT WITH HER N STUFF.

Again, you can decide if there's smut or anything but I NEED this fic.

It would be greatly appreciated as I need another reason to listen to Reputation.

Hey Anon,

Again I'm incredibly sorry you had to wait so long. Hope you enjoy this!

Warnings: Smutt, dom / sub vibes, arguing

The whole situation was wrong. You stood in the doorway of Sherlock’s apartment, the apartment you recently had to move into. The woman seemed to enjoy your startled expression, her eyes were dark and there was a smirk ghosting on her red lips.

“This is-” Sherlock started his eyes fixed on the woman, to your relief he had kept his distance. He was leaning against the fireplace mantel.

“Oh, I know who she is.” Her eyes narrowed, and her body was sprawled across the couch. “I’m Irene, an old friend of Sherlock’s,” She said moving her gaze back to him.

You wanted to throttle her, wishing that women’s issues could be settled like men. Instead, you smiled brightly.

“If I knew we were having guests I would have put something together. I’ll put the kettle on.” You moved into the kitchen.

“No need darling. I'm not here for tea.” She uncrossed her legs and sat upright. “I came here for business.”

Then it started. You stayed on the edge of the room as the two started to banter. Crime scenes, clues, motives, both trying to get the upper hand. You struggled to keep up as they argued, one thing was glaringly obvious. The tension in the room was palpable. You felt the electricity and it made you sick to your stomach.

They were an inch away from each other, Sherlock looking unimpressed and cold, while she looked like she was savoring every moment of the interaction.

“Maybe you should look a little closer, somewhere in the woods maybe?”

“Moriarty-”

“Sends his regards.” She whispered her eyes focused on his lips. Part of you felt like you should intervene, and the other part of you felt like slinking away. This was so embarrassing, he seemed to forget about your existence altogether. Part of you knew it was because he wanted the missing information from the case he was working on, but the rest of you couldn't feel that logic.

You were swallowed up by his lack of concern for you. He looked and acted as if he was single, he was doing exactly what she wanted him to do.

She turned on her heel and left, slamming the door behind her causing you to jump. Your stomach and chest were tight, but you would rather be shot than let him see that he had hurt you.

You moved to the bedroom and shut the door, locking it even though you knew he would probably be sitting there sorting through her riddles.

You grabbed a bag stuffing it with clothes, anger seeping out of you. It was going to be a huge mess if you went to your sister's place like this but you didn’t care. Any place was better than here.

You opened the bedroom door and to no surprise, he was sitting there staring out the window. Muttering under his breath. He never liked being interrupted when he was like this. So you walked across the living space towards the front door.

“Where are you going?” He asked exhaling smoke from his pipe.

“Doesn't matter.” You shrugged.

“Of course, it matters.” He stood up fully attentive now.

“No -”

“She just gave us the missing clue, Morarity is--”

“Is a fucking ponce. I don't have time for this Sherlock. I can't do this,” You slipped a little then took a deep breath making your way closer to the door.

His large frame blocked you and you were surprised that he was making such an effort to keep you there. He looked like he was struggling to explain something.

“You're angry. I don't understand why.” This made your blood boil. “But Moriarty wants you.”

“I’m glad someone does.” You bit back. His face was stern and you knew he wasn't going to let you leave and a part of you was happy to argue.

“You don’t think I want you.” His voice was just above a snarl, and his eyes were dark. His anger had the opposite effect on your body, your pulse raced and you suddenly felt a few degrees too hot. His glare was consuming and you hated him for how attractive it was.

“Obviously not. She was all over you, and you - you - you - just let her. Right in front of me - you didnt even -” He leaned his face closer to yours and your words cut off.

“She wants you to run out of here angry. There’s a delivery carriage just up the street that hasn't moved since she got here.”Sherlock whispered. “She’s already left, thinking you’d run out of here. We have the upper hand.”

You thought about what he was saying, there was plenty of logic. The way her eyes would land on you periodically despite flirting with Sherlock. She was obvious too obvious about it. You still felt like fighting.

“I don’t like this.” You gritted your teeth. Many converstations had recently been had over the many ups and downs of the life he lead. How you were attched to him publicly now due to a careless misstep. Now you understood his reluctance all these months.

Moving in with him was the safest option. You didnt realise how angry all of that made you, how your private life was boiled down and sold as broth for everyone to consume. Somthing so dear to you, you knew deep down you wouldnt want to live without him. You closed your eyes, you wanted him. But the world needed him. All those murdered women, cases left unsolved completley neglected until he would show up.

He was doing what was right. A thought that comforted the anger you felt at the loss of control.

“Then let me make it up to you.” He said through gritted teeth. A voice in the back of your mind told you to run away from the darkness in his eyes. Your body stood frozen in place, welcoming his rage.

He closed the space between the two of you and gripped your jaw tightly. You looked up at him with wide eyes, he was so angry. His mouth crashed into yours and you felt yourself slip away into blissful submission.

This wasn't normal for you. When you wanted to fight you let him have it. You would shout at him and was always secretly grateful that he could take it. He never tried to take advantage, letting you express your emotions freely. Normally without consequence. But his hands were warm and gripping at your flesh madly.

You felt like you should make an effort to push back, try to take some control back. But your body had a mind of its own. You wanted him to make it up to you, and for once you didn’t want to be the one thinking and doing.

You let him ravish you, pulling apart the front of your dress. His mouth biting the flesh along your breastbone. He pushed you against the living room wall, and a crashing sound was noted in your periphery but you didnt have the brain power to care. He used his knee to press his way between your legs. His hand ran up the inside of your thigh bringing your skirts up higher.

His mouth tenderly sucked in a nipple causing you to knot your fingers in his hair. A groan escaped your lips, your eyes fluttered closed and the last of your thoughts faded away.

Your mind was singularly focused on receiving his touch. He placed one last sharp bite against the base of your neck before picking you up. He kissed you messily as he carried you back to the bedroom. Kocking over piles of books and experiments. The place would be a disaster after but you didnt care. His large body somehow managed to safely navigate the chaos before reaching the bedroom. He threw you down on the bed and quickly discarded your dress. His body was on yours in the span of a breath, he wasn't going to risk letting you sober up and snap back to reality.

A faint warning sounded that there were still men waiting outside the house… That thing could be dangerous. The thought only made you wetter.

Your mind went blank as you felt his mouth on your clit. No warm-up, no warning. Your legs snapped shut and you let out a scream. Your hips bucked and he placed a hard slap to the side of your thigh.

You were getting close, your voice was loud. He moved away and you tried to push his face back down. He resisted you easily. With a fluid motion, he had moved his whole length inside you. The stretch was almost enough to make you orgasm.

“Not yet.” He snarled, thrusting inside you wildly. His large hand cradled your neck with a delicious grip, his teeth sinking into the flesh under your collarbone once more.

The pain and pleasure was too much for you. Your hips met his every thrust desperate for his command. Your throat was sore from crying out.

His thrusts became harder and deeper, stealing the air from your lungs. Your whole body was tensing up.

“Cum” he growled into your ear and your body contracted and seized. The pressure was unbearable, he forced his way in and out of your tight cunt, finding his own release.

After an eternity your body finally collapsed into nothingness. The most soothing nothingness.

Sherlock collapsed onto the bed next to you. Pulling you against his naked body tightly. You let him move your limp body, still not able to grasp the world.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered into your hair. His voice was thick with grief, and you shuddered against the sudden cold that moved against your skin. “I will send you to Frace, there is a monastery there -”

“Stange thing to do to a woman before banishing her to live with nuns” You mumbled rubbing your cheek against the hair on his chest.

“I can keep you safe.” He sighed heavily.

“Perfectly safe here. He’ll find me if you send me away, better to stay next to you. Handle this like every other case.” You were very proud of the contributions you made to the cases you had helped with.

___________

The man shifted looking down at his watch once again. The lady never left the apartment. He felt antsy, Moriarty made it very clear how he deals with disobedience, the last thing he wanted was to end up another case file on Sherlock’s desk.

He didnt really want this job. He looked at the apartment window through his side-view mirror. Guilt hit him at the thought of kidnapping a woman. His brother had made it very clear that this was the only way to pay off his debts. The thought of his nephew and sister-in-law, made him stay in his seat.

Stupid family.

After a long while he got down from the carriage. He ran up the stairs and was hit with the sounds of crashing and screaming without his better judgment opened the apartment door. 221B, just like in the papers.

To his astonishment, the place was trashed. Books, instruments, broken glass, and various liquids thrown across the hardwood. The sound of the woman’s screams made his stomach drop. Sounds like maybe someone else was hired, in case she went the other way or something. With a heavy sense of guilt, the man turned and shut the door behind him. He ran down the street leaving the carriage there. Maybe whoever else was on the mission would go back for it.

Thinking one last bitter thought about his family, he got on the next train out of London. He sat on the train and said a prayer for the poor woman, pledging never to get involved with such things again.

#sherlock holmes #Enola holmes #Sherlock holmes #henry cavill #Sherlock Holmes X reader #Henry Cavill Sherlock x reader #Enola Holmes fanfiction #sherlock holmes oneshot #enola holmes oneshot

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cliophilyra · 13 days ago

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Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged by @firehose118 - thank you Sam! 😊

How many works on AO3? 62

What’s your total AO3 word count? 228215

What fandoms do you write for? At the moment only 911 but in the past I’ve written for Supernatural, Sandman, Spiderman, Deadpool, other Marvel stuff & Sherlock.

What are you top 5 fics by kudos? Implausible Deniability (Spideypool) Put you mouth where your money is (Spideypool) Sex, Lies & Arguing About Chores (Spideypool WIP) Accidentally On Purpose (Spideypool) Sensing a theme here? The Other Shoe (Destiel)

Do you respond to comments? Yes! Always if I can.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Probably either When you’re tasting’ what he’s drinking (Saltommy - link below) or Therefore Love Moderately (Deanbenny SPN - link below) but I have a few.

What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Probably - If it comes back (Saltommy - link below) - but most of my one shots have fairly happy endings.

Do you get hate on fics? Touch wood - No

Do you write smut? If so what kind? Yessss. Only M/M so far. I think I’m best at it when I don’t over think it and just write what I think is hot. I’m probably not good at the kind of smut that drives plot/character etc. Definitely want to try my hand at more kink stuff soon.

Do you write crossovers? Never have - I like reading some of them but I’m very picky :-/

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Yes, by the dreaded Wattpad 🙄

Have you ever had a fic translated? Yes! Two as far as I remember - one into Russian and one into Chinese.

Have you ever cowritten a fic before? Not properly, I have worked with Betas pretty closely in past but I would love to have a go at properly writing something with someone else!

What’s your all time favourite ship? I know there’s probably a bit of recency bias here but it’s genuinely a tie between Bucktommy & Saltommy. Obviously in total I have written more for Destiel and they will always be super important to me but there is something about the upwelling of ideas and inspiration for these two ships that has been amazing. I basically had writers block for about 5 years. In that time I wrote about 15 fics - almost all of which were super short. In the last 6 months that I’ve had 911 I’ve written 12!

What’s the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Sex, Lies and Arguing About Chores - that was the one that brought on the writers block I think. I wrote myself into a sort of corner and got all stuck on peoples expectations of it and just froze up.

What are your writing strengths? I think I’m good at smut when I’m in the right mood and I like creating a sense of place and atmosphere and also I usually like my dialogue.

What are you writing weaknesses? PLOT. I suck at anything that requires a complicated plot or planning. Hence I don’t have many multi chapter things. Also character analysis - I always think other people are much better at this than me.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I haven’t done it much. Definitely wouldn’t attempt more than a couple of words without checking with a native speaker. I do not put it in italics lol

First fandom you wrote for? Sherlock (BBC)

Favourite fics you’ve written? Oh god this changes all the time, but today my top 6 would be: If It Comes Back - Saltommy second-chance reunion fic. When you’re tasting what he’s drinkin’ (are you thinkin’ bout me?) - angry jealous past-saltommy angst Calendar Boy - light hearted bucktommy fire calender PWP Like A Circus Wheel - saltommy secret relationship PWP Therefore Love Moderately - SPN Dean/Benny angsty PWP Implausible Deniability - silly smutty & occasionally angsty Spideypool adventure thing that I wrote as I posted it and was really happy with how it came out.

Also honourable mention to I’m Wasted (and I can’t find my way home) - Destiel endverse WIP which may never be finished but I really like what I have so far.

Tagging: @rdng1230 @thecarrott @rcmclachlan @alchemistc @nine-one-wanton @judymarch15

@marvelousbuckley @bangpop91 @racerchix21 @girlwonder-writes and anyone else who wants to play!

#tag games #writing #my writing #saltommy #bucktommy #destiel #spideypool #deanbenny #fic recs

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swissmissficrecs · 11 months ago

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Johnlock fics I read in 2023

This is everything I read in the Sherlock Holmes fandom last year that made it into my bookmarks. So while I may not have read enough to make a selected "best of" list, consider these the ones that made it past all my internal selection criteria and are deserving of a spotlight. A few of these were completed prior to 2023.

A Case of You by Silvergirl (17K, M, Johnlock, Sherlock/OMC) Sherlock is marrying an American, and at the rehearsal dinner, best man John makes a drunken love confession he doesn’t remember the next day. Badly hungover, John can't find anyone to tell him what the hell happened to the wedding, where the grooms are, or how he can put it right so that Sherlock can be happy. But what if he's dead wrong about what will make Sherlock happy?

A Midnight Clear by khorazir (16K, T, Johnlock) It’s Christmas Eve, and Sherlock is working. Because that’s what he does. He doesn’t need Christmas, or holiday cheer, or even company. He’s fine on his own, thank you very much – until a series of strange encounters on his way back to Baker Street makes him reconsider.

A Story That Is Almost, But Not Quite, Entirely Unlike Blue Carbuncle by Iwantthatcoat (16K, M, Johnlock) It’s the most wonderful time of the year, and the Holmes Family is all set to have one of those unimaginable Christmas dinners— but the game is afoot, as Mummy’s friend is caught up in a Christmas mystery.

An Elegant Solution by ArwaMachine (19K, E, Johnlock) Sherlock finds himself unspeakably aroused by the idea of John with another man. Problem is, the only man Sherlock will permit be with John is Sherlock himself. Seems like an unsolvable problem. ... or is it?

An Ocean Away by westernredcedar (14K, T, Johnlock) Sherlock Holmes has been gone for twenty long years, time enough for John Watson's daughter to make it all the way to Harvard University.

Avast Ye Merry Gentlemen by StellaCartography (10K, E, Johnlock) Sherlock is not a Christmas person. John decides it's Christmas that needs changing.

Bright Blue Ink by 13_33 (13K, G, Johnlock, Warstan) When one of my patients asks me about my relationship with Sherlock Holmes, the great detective, I answer this: I am his chronicler, his assistant in solving crimes, his confidant and friend. Of course, all these terms hold true, now as then, at the beginning of our shared history. But just as in a family portrait you can only see the put-on smiles and never the real faces of the people, they were only part of what made up my true relationship with Holmes. I know him, I then add; I know him well. [ACD]

Deductive Reasoning by cormorant (8K, T, Johnlock) John finds out that Sherlock has assumed for a while that their relationship was romantic, and feels like maybe he should have been notified about that.

Doting Husbands by Calais_Reno (16K, M, Johnlock) Sherlock takes on a new hobby: writing a story. If only something would happen! Takes place a year after the ending of Wooing Sherlock Holmes. He and John have been married for a year, still retired, living in Sussex.

Full Mount by ArwaMachine (54K, E, Johnlock) After Sherlock unceremoniously returns from the dead, John finds himself inexplicably angry all the time. So he does what any emotionally-constipated British man does: he joins a Mixed Martial Arts gym. As John throws himself into the sport and joins in on underground no-holds-barred brawls, situations arise that just might force John to face what is really going on underneath all the rage.

Indefinite Lines by ArwaMachine (298K, E, Johnlock) When two lines, inclined towards each other, are extended indefinitely, it is inevitable that they meet. Upon meeting, the lines become something new. Together. Perhaps it’s been like that from the beginning for Sherlock and John—their lives weaving together, inclined towards one another, moving closer and closer to something greater than themselves.

Live from the Morgue by disfictional (8K, E, Johnlock) Molly interviews Sherlock on her podcast, Live from the Morgue. John listens.

Lost In A Good Book by khorazir (68K, M, Johnlock) After chasing a criminal into a poky second-hand bookshop, John and Sherlock find themselves not only stuck in the building, but in L-space itself. With things still raw and unsettled between them after the events surrounding the Culverton Smith case, this adds another dimension to their predicament, which not only consists of finding a way out of the shop (while avoiding getting murdered by the criminal), but also to finally address the issues between them.

Nightjet by khorazir (22K, M, Johnlock) Officially deceased for eighteen months and still looking for the last remainders of Moriarty’s criminal empire, an exhausted Sherlock boards a night train in Germany to bring him to his next hunting ground. Due to a mishap with the sleeper cars, he is forced to share a compartment with a stranger – who turns out to be not quite as strange as Sherlock thought. The universe isn’t lazy, after all …

Nothing to Celebrate by DiscordantWords (30K, M, Johnlock, Warstan) Sherlock Holmes is back from the dead. Things only get worse from there.

Our Ghosts And This by LipstickDaddy (12K, T, Johnlock) An epilogue in three acts.

Primavera by Berty (9K, T, Johnlock) Italy in the springtime is as romantic as it gets but is it enough to free unspoken words and feelings after years of silence?

Salut d'Amour by ecoutes (11K, G, Johnlock) Despite Holmes claiming that my narrations of our cases were tainted with sentimentality, his preferences in music, I learned, were awfully romantic. [ACD]

Spare Parts by Raina_at (63K, E, Johnlock) Two years ago, Sherlock Holmes jumped off the roof of New London Hospital. Two months ago, he walked into John's clinic as if no time had passed at all. John hasn't seen him since. But then Sherlock knocks on John's door with a case he can't say no to, and while figuring out why the biggest manufacturer or synthetic limbs in the System is going after veterans, they also need to find out whether there's a way to fix what's broken between them.

stirringofbirds between my arms by NotusLethe (18K, E, Johnlock, Enola/Tewksbury) Over the years, John Watson gets to know his new flatmate, Sherlock Holmes, and the man's clever ward. [Enola Holmes]

Stretch by illwick (13K, E, Johnlock) Sometimes the lines get blurry. [Part 35 of a BDSM established relationship series]

The Adventure of The Reluctant Docent by mydogwatson (23K, T, Johnlock) Someone is killing the docents of London. Sherlock is on the case when he meets a very interesting docent.

The Case of the Freudian Dick Pic Slip by expoduck (11K, E, Johnlock) John accidentally sends Sherlock a dick pic he'd intended for another man.

The Mystery of the Missing Metallurgist by rudbeckia (14K, M, Johnlock) A young wife engages Holmes to find her missing husband. Lestrade thinks the man has absconded to America, but Holmes rises to the challenge of Proving Lestrade Wrong. The case turns out to be far more complex and dangerous than they first thought, and Holmes sends Watson to secure Lestrade’s help in bringing a criminal gang to justice. When Holmes gets injured, Watson realises where his heart lies and a little lighthearted banter leads to a tentative confession. [ACD]

The Silence Between the Notes by J_Baillier (44K, M, Johnlock, Viclock) Lieutenant John Watson's days in London are painted in shades of grey after losing both his military career and his family. Could an unexpected request to travel to Vienna to track down the errant son of a wealthy family break the monotony?

The Wizard of Baker Street by Calais_Reno (23K, T, Johnlock) In which Sherlock is a wizard under a curse and John spends a lot of time as a cat.

‘tis the damn season by chrysanthemumsies (22K, E, Johnlock) Sherlock and John travel to Edinburgh to catch a homophobic serial killer in time for Christmas. They figure out how to use their words, more or less.

Trapezoid by SilentAuror (27K, E, Johnlock, OMC/ OMC) Corey Graham invites John and Sherlock to visit L.A. to consult on a project… at least, officially.

Yorkshire by lurikko (8K, E, Johnlock) They're in Yorkshire, in a house in the moors, for a case, only Sherlock keeps touching John. [Omegaverse]

#rec list #best #master list

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meetinginsamarra · 2 months ago

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My Sherlock Whumptober Fics

I am slaving away to get as many prompts done in advance as I can for this year's whumptober event.

"Take My Broken Love" will be a HLV fix-it.

Here is the cover as a teaser!

++++

In the meantime, if you have not yet, go read my two earlier whumptober fics!

++++

Learn My Scars (2022) is a TEH fix-it

After being thrown down and strangled, Sherlock leaves John in the restaurant, angry and deeply hurt. When John follows Sherlock to 221b, he learns that Sherlock's scars have not been acquired by “gallivanting around” for two years.

++++

Slowly Suffocating (2023) is a TLD fix-it

Getting suffocated took some time. Enough time for Sherlock to ponder what went wrong. Hopefully also long enough for John to arrive and rescue him. Culverton Smith applied more pressure, impatient to turn Sherlock into a dead thing.

++++

Happy pain to you all!

#my sherlock fanfics #sherlock fic #slowly suffocating #learn my scars #meet_me_in_samarra on AO3

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actually-a-girls-name · 5 months ago

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Second chance

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

read and/or comment here on ao3

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

Royal Air Force Northolt, London.

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

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

Dr John Watson and Sherlock Holmes. Saying goodbye.

Watson takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sherlock swallows hard, his eyes are glistening.

“What is it that you wanted to say?”

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

His voice is higher than usual.

“Please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know that now. I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be…”

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

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

“What about Mary?”

“I’ll sort it out. She’ll survive.”

“And the baby?”

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

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

“Start by staying alive.”

Sherlock smiles softly and nods.

“Promise me?”

“John, I…”

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

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

“I need you,” he adds desperately.

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

Watson shakes his head, “not enough.”

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

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

“Ok.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Another silence stretches out and John breaks it again.

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

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

Their hearts beat and break the same anyway.

#may prompts 2024 #johnlock #bbc sherlock #sherlock holmes #john watson #ficlet #sherlock fanfiction #ao3 link #tarmac hell #bbc sherlock fanfiction #johnlock fanfiction #mine #mayprompts2024

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