#sherlock-ninja

[miraculous-lovesquare]

Sherlock-ninja ---> sherlock-in-training

[roleplayerssecretsanta-blog]

for sherlock-ninja

"Ah, just right," She stepped back to look at the party decorations that filled the room. Christmas lights and holiday cookies and streamers were strewn about the house. The doorbell chimed and a second later she heard a knock.

 ”Rose, could you get that? I have my hands a bit full here.” John walked in from the hallway carrying various bowls of crisps and dips.

 ”Sure,” She ran over to the door. Before opening it she took a deep breath and wiped her sweaty hands on her pants. This was going to be their first big celebration with the whole gang back together. Another knock came at the door.

 ”Hey, you guys going to let us in? Ianto and I are getting a bit chilly out here!”

 ”Oh of course,” She opened the door, “It’s not like you’re going to freeze to death Jack!”

 ”I guess not, since I’m forced to live forever in this cruel world. Roaming the skies for eternity,” He dead panned. Jack couldn’t contain his laughter anymore. “Come ‘ere!” He gave her a big hug.

"It’s good to see you Jack," John walked up to the door.

 ”Doctor!” He grabbed him and kissed his cheeks.

"Oi now, you know I’m not the Doctor anymore."

"Yeah," Rose said, "He goes by John now. John Smith. A bit weird saying it, but hey, have to get used to it sometime."

"And Ianto, come on in," John pulled him into the house. "Can’t leave you out of the party!" They bustled inside. Coats were taken and hung up. As soon as everyone was settled there was another ring at the doorbell. 

Jack hopped over to the door before his hosts could get it. “Mickey Mouse, welcome to the party! And Martha,” He lifted her hand and kissed it.

"Hey, that’s my wife you’re talking to there!" Mickey responded.

 Ianto snuck up behind Jack and wrapped his arms around him, “And you have a boyfriend right here.”

"You lot, help me with these bags!" A call came from behind them.

"Donna!" John yelled. Mickey and Ianto grabbed some of the packages from her arms.

"I’m freezing my feet off here, let me get inside!" She responded. 

"Why don’t we all get inside the house?" Another voice suggested from behind Donna.

"John," She smiled, "I even brought a friend along."

"K9! Oh, Sarah Jane and K9, just perfect!" John exclaimed.

They all finally shuffled inside and got the party started. Jack grabbed Ianto by the waist and they danced to the music in the middle of the living room. Sarah Jane and Rose caught up from the last they met. Rose told her all about the new quirks John had picked up from being part Donna. Donna herself had a couple of comments on some of the things he did.

"He most certainly did not get a loud mouth from me! I don’t have a loud mouth." She boomed. John chuckled from across the room.

Martha chatted with John about her work with Torchwood and Mickey’s involvement, not letting him speak a word himself. And poor Mickey was stuck on the couch in the corner, yet again, with the tin dog.

As the evening wound on they all grew increasingly more comfortable, even maybe, just a bit too comfortable.

"Is anyone else feeling a just a tad too much home-y?" Jack asked. "I think we should go out." Everyone else agreed with him. "You know, there’s this great bar I know down on 5th, my buddy Straf works there."

"Isn’t that the place where you met that Rcyclon?" Ianto asked.

"Oh yes. She was a busty beauty, surprisingly a bit too much for me. Never thought I’d see the day when that’d happen."

They all pulled on their coats. Rose and John hung a back to lock the door before they left. 

"I think this is the best Christmas I’ve had in years." She said.

"I’d say so, too."

"Come on you guys, Jack said he might find me someone once we get there!" Donna called back to them.

"All right all right, we’re coming!" Rose responded.

John took her hand, “Run.” They sprinted to catch up to the gang.

// Hey, this is actually my first fan fiction, so, sorry if it’s kind of bad.  Actually, here are some good(ish?) Rose x Ten.2/ Amy x Rory/Doctor Who fics for an added bonus since this was kind of short/possibly measly. Oh, and I haven’t read all of them, so I don’t know about some of them. I hope you like it/them. Happy Holidays!//

[jeanlucpiquark]

Top 5 characters(or just 5 awesome characters if you can't rank them)! ;)

As you’ve said, I don’t think i’m going to be able to rank them but I’ll do my best…

1.- Tony Stark

2.- Castiel

3.- Jim Moriarty

4.- Sirius Black

5.- Dean Winchester

[jeanlucpiquark]

State 10 random facts about yourself and pass it on to your ten favorite blogs! <3

1.- I live in a small town in the middle of nowhere

2.- I want to be an actress (I love acting)

3.- I should be starting a highschool project right now

4.- My room is like an Iron Man appreciation post J

5.- My favourite film is The Nightmare Before Christmas

6.- I’m listening to Mika right now

7.- A friend and I carry salt with us just in case of demons (We’re huge Supernatural fans J)

8.- My favourite song is New Tomorrow by A Friend In London

9.- As you can see, my life isn’t very interesting

10.- I’ve love answering this questions, thanks for sending it to me

Thank you again for considering me one of your ten favourite blogs, ily, hope you have a great day J

[fangirlkat93]

State 10 random facts about yourself and pass it on to your ten favorite blogs! <3

okay let’s see…

1) I turned 20 this year. (Woo!)

2) I have several Johnny Depp posters in my room

3) I think the very first thing I was obsessed with is Pirates of the Caribbean

4) My taste in music is impossible to describe/categorize, at least to me.  I like a whole bunch of random stuff from tons of different genres.

5) I guess you could call me old-fashioned… I have sort of traditional values and I like a lot of things from before my time. X)

6) I have never been out of the country. (USA)

7) I would like to learn as many languages as I can.

8) I already know a bit of Spanish and a bit of French.

9) When I was little I always thought I was going to be a famous singer.

10) My favorite color is electric blue.

[annasayre]

Last Words

Summary:  A desperate man's attempt to escape and a lost man's attempt to save him.

Word Count: Like, 1000

A/N: Written for sherlock-ninja who did a thing where we had to finish her drabble. The bit italicized at the beginning is hers. 

"He grabbed the other item he had picked up. A gun. The gun. The one that held so many memories for the duo. It had killed to save Sherlock's life. It had been used to help Sherlock's boredom. Now it was going to help John get to Sherlock.

  He checked one more time. The safety was off, the gun was loaded. All he had to do was shoot. His death wouldn't be nearly as dramatic as Sherlock's, but it would do. It's only job was to get him to the man he needed as much as oxygen. The only man he'd fallen for. The man that had kept him alive. He had actually come close to doing this before. The world had been dull, boring. Then he met the crazy genius that was Sherlock Holmes. Everything around him had been filled with color. That was why John had shot the cabbie and risked his life for a man he barely knew. He didn't want his reason to live to leave him. When Sherlock jumped, his eyes went back to black & white. Dull. Boring. Dead. He needed to get back to Sherlock, back to the color and the light of his life.

He screwed his eyes tight and put the gun to his head. His hand was shaking for the first time in a long time. "When I see Sherlock, it will be gone" He thought to himself. "And maybe I could finally tell him that I love him."

The cool metal of the weapon felt odd against his temple, uncomfortable... almost like it didn't belong. Only John knew it did. The gun belonged against his head because that was the only way he could do this. There was only one way he could ever live anymore and that was with Sherlock. But Sherlock wasn't here. Sherlock died, which meant John had too as well.

To be fair, he was already dead, anyway. He had died the second his best friend landed against the cold, cruel sidewalk. He didn't do anything after that day. Ever. Depression come to pay a visit that night and refused to leave. John didn't have the strength to fight it. He didn't have the strength to get out of bed or bother with minimal things like eating and showering. He didn't care. His motivation was shot and he was right back to square one: 'living' the way he had been before he ran into Mike that day at the park.

But he was strong enough, now. He had mustered up the appropriate amount of strength needed to carry out his next actions. His last actions. 

He took a shaky, steadying breath and squeezed his eyes.

No.

He was delayed by the familiar voice. The smooth baritone he'd grown so accustomed to hearing. After Sherlock fell, his voice hadn't died with him. John heard it every so often, speaking. Sometimes it was directly to him; others it was just the detective mumbling as if he were talking to himself, and John had just happened to be able to listen in.

"I have to." he responded, his voice shaking as bad as his hand. The gun felt heavy now, and unfamiliar. His arm was starting to hurt from having it raised for so long. "It's the only way, Sherlock. I... I'm sorry."

He flexed his fingers before gripping the gun tightly once more, willing himself to not hear the detective's voice, knowing that if anything could stop him, it would be Sherlock. John. But Sherlock wasn't here. Sherlock was dead. Gone. There was nothing left of him but the decomposing corpse shoved six feet underground. Don't. He was nothing more than a ghost of his name, left behind only to eventually be forgotten. Just like everyone else. And John... John would finally join him.

No... John.

He refused to listen to the voice. A voice so similar, but so infinitely different. Indescribable. He had little strength left, but it was just enough for him to press his finger into the trigger. Slowly. He squeezed and squeezed and squeezed until-

Stop.

-and this time, he did. He stopped but kept his eyes closed. Because the warm hand gripped lightly around his ice cold wrist felt too familiar. Way too familiar. And the feel of the long, slim fingers just above his veins, where blood was still flowing, felt too real to be fake. So he stopped and he stood and he marveled in the feeling before it left. Because it had to leave at some point. Because it was fake. Because Sherlock Holmes was dead, six feet in the ground miles away and had been for a year. And so there was no possible way that he could be standing next to John, gripping his wrist and -

"John, please."

His heart skipped a few beats before seeming to stop completely. He swallowed hard, trying desperately to convince himself that he was just imagining the way the hand tightened, and how his breath, soft and warm, lingered against John's neck and caused a few goosebumps to raise in its path. Trying to tell himself that the voice didn't seem closer and deeper and real, even though it really, really did.

The gun, still close to his head, had went slack in his hand and he felt the fingers guide his hand down to his side, the steel weapon falling to the ground with a thump that echoed painfully throughout the quiet room. He'd adverted all his attention to staying still, staying calm. He swallowed again and shook his head slightly. "You're not real. You're not. Go away. Just for a moment. Go away so I can do this and see you again. Go. Please. I need to do this. I need to see you."

"Open your eyes, John."  

He shook his head. He didn't want to see him. Didn't want to look at him because he wasn't real. He was transparent and unreachable. The fingers around his wrist were just his imagination. The heat surrounding him was his imagination. The breath he was hearing, feeling... It was all his imagination. All in his head. A second hand was against his face now and John could read the movement, though he couldn't see it. It was desperate. Pleading.

It was enough.

Slowly, he let his eyelids flutter open and he saw blue. Blue and green and gold. Stars. Constellations. Eyes. They were eyes, shining with unshed tears and filled with unspoken pain. And he couldn't move. Could barely breathe. And his vision was focusing in and out and he couldn't think. And for once, for the first time in three hundred and sixty five long days, John wasn't feeling anything. No pain. No numbness. Nothing.

John's hand moved between them to mirror the ghost's previous movement, bringing his fingers up to trace a light path from his temple down to his jaw. They stayed against the skin, and didn't fall through like the countless times they had before. There was warmth beneath his fingers- blood pulsing, flowing, keeping the body alive and running. A body that wasn't supposed to be alive. A body who was very much dead miles away six feet under the ground.

He couldn't take his eyes away from the multi-colored ones in front of him. Eyes that he had imagined day after day but could never get quite right. His hand turned to cup the detective's cheek and his thumb moved to trace over his lips. "Sherlock."  

[heckingoof]

Johnlock thing

sherlock-ninja you wanted me to post thing yes? Here I give you horribly written thing but I really did need it. 

It was a normal day, nothing special the weather wasn’t good or bad it was just a regular day at 221B when John found out Sherlock’s secret. The doctor was sitting in his chair typing up the latest case on his blog when he heard a sound from Sherlock’s room. “Sherlock, is everything alright?” He called there was no reply for a while until his phone went off. “Hello?” “John,” Sherlock’s voice was muffled and irritated. “Sherlock, where are you?” John asked as he stood up and looked around the room. “You were just here and what was that noise from your room?” “John, I need help.” The detective growled. “You need my help? Well where are you?” He asked again. “I’m in my room.” John hung up and went over to the detective’s room he could see Sherlock’s legs sticking out from under his bed. “What the hell are you doing under there?” John asked trying to hold back a giggle. “Stop asking questions John and just help me. My robe got caught on something and I can’t reach it from where my hands are positioned.” Sherlock groaned and kicked his feet. “Alright, just calm down.” John knelt down and went to grab the detective’s waist but was surprised by the jerking motion. “Sherlock sit still.” He scolded and tried again but a strange noise escaped Sherlock’s mouth. “STOP, it tickles!” Sherlock cried and John stared at the twitching legs in shock. “D-did you just say that it tickles?” the doctor sat on the ground and stared at him in disbelief. “Sherlock, I have known you for forever and I have never once known you to be ticklish. I grab your mobile out of your pocket for crying out loud and you have never once been ticklish!” “That’s because I can actually see that coming so I can turn it off but this I have no idea when you’re going to touch me so I can’t turn it off.” Sherlock mumbled and John started laughing. “You’re able to turn off being ticklish. Of course you are. You’re Sherlock bloody Holmes.” He shook his head back and forth for a moment. “Well if I tell you that I’m going to touch you, do you think that will help so we can get you out?” “You can try it.” John got back up on his knees and held out his hands, he let them hover over Sherlock’s waist for a moment. “Okay I’m going to touch you now, don’t freak out.” He slowly lowered his hands and there wasn’t any reaction from the detective so he pulled. There was a tearing of fabric and Sherlock Holmes was free. “There we go.” “Thank you, John.” Sherlock said fixing his robe. “Damn I liked this robe too.” “What the hell were you even looking for under there?” John asked looking under the bed. “Nothing, I was just checking something.” The detective stood and dropped his robe to the ground and John made his way back to the sitting room. “Do you want some tea?” He called after a moment of confusion he didn’t know what to do with this new information about Sherlock or how to process it, but the doctor knew he was going to use this to his advantage. “Yes.” Sherlock said as he came out of his room and made his way over to the couch where he sprawled out like normal.

Sherlock had been able to hide the fact that he was ticklish for years it was easy to hide as long as he saw the attack coming he could control the urge to squirm and laugh. Now, John knew and he didn’t know if it was a good thing or not. He trusted the doctor with his life but when it came to knowing the detective’s biggest secret he was scared. Nothing happened for almost a month after the incident so Sherlock just pushed his fear aside thinking that John had just forgotten about it and moved on. “We need you.” Lestrade cried on that day that Sherlock would never forget. The DI had burst into the flat out of breath, Sherlock and John turned and stared at him. “Will you two come?” “What happened?” John asked and Sherlock tilted his head slightly before stood and made his way to his room to get dressed. He heard the muffled voices as they went back and forth about a double murder suicide as he pulled on his clothes. “Sherlock, are you coming?” John called before the detective stepped out of his room he went over and grabbed his coat and scarf. “Let’s go John.” He called over his shoulder and they were off. It was almost midnight when they got back to the flat, Sherlock had found the supposed suicide victim that was actually the murderer of three people, and John had found himself in a near death experience. The doctor had a bandage over his head and one over a large cut on the side of his neck. “Dammit, Sherlock, I told you not to run off!” John scolded when the door was closed, his voice was quiet but Sherlock knew that it was just him being considerate of Mrs. Hudson. “You running off almost got you killed! You’re lucky I showed up when I did.” “Yes and what good did that plan do you?” Sherlock asked sarcastically with a wave of his hand. “Better me than you.” John mumbled under his breath Sherlock turned and stared at him in disbelief. “Why? Why would you getting hurt be better than me dying?” He crossed the room and towered over John waiting for the doctor’s reply. “You’re the brains of this outfit. We can’t go wasting that brilliant brain of yours on something as stupid as the criminal classes especially not on some idiot like that.” John said pointing at the door. “But you’re John Watson.” Sherlock said after a moment of silence the doctor’s brows furrowed. “Yes and what’s so special about being John Hamish Watson?” He asked and Sherlock took a step back. “As most people say, Moriarty included, I’m just your little pet. You’re Sherlock Holmes it doesn’t matter if I’m here or not the work will still get done whether or not I’m around. So, if you could take a little more care of yourself that would be appreciated.” John nodded before making his way to the kitchen and started making tea. Sherlock made his way over to the couch and sprawled across it before covering his eyes with his arm he didn’t understand why John thought he wasn’t important. Didn’t John know that he was what kept the detective sane? He heard John’s footsteps and the clatter of a mug on the table but John didn’t move from where he was standing. “What?” Sherlock asked moving his arm away and looking up at the doctor, there was a strange look on his face that the detective couldn’t place. “John? What’s wrong? Is it your head?” John stared at Sherlock for a long time. “No, I’m just really upset that you never listen to me.” “And this is new from any other time, how?” the detective asked throwing his arm back over his eyes. “This time I have a way to get back at you.” John mumbled before reaching out and tickling the unsuspecting detective. Sherlock let out a squeal and squirmed. “STOP, JOHN! DON’T!” Sherlock cried through fits of laughter the doctor refused to let up, soon the detective was lying on the ground with John straddling his hips and never letting up until Sherlock couldn’t breathe. “John, please!” He begged through giggles. “Are you going to listen to me next time?” John asked and Sherlock nodded enthusiastically. “Good.” The doctor removed his hands but didn’t move off of the detective. “Was that really necessary?” Sherlock growled after he caught his breath a bit, John raised his eye brows and gave him a sly grin. “If I know one of your biggest secrets I’m going to use it against you at least once.” The doctor said staring down at Sherlock’s red face, his chest heaving as he tried to calm down. “Well it wasn’t fun for me.” He grumbled and clenched his fist and John started to laugh. “You are adorable.” John said after a moment and Sherlock turned and glared at the doctor. “What are you talking about?” He growled. “You getting all mad at me just ‘cause I tickled you. You’re like a child who is upset because their parents made them laugh when they are angry.” “Well are you ticklish?” Sherlock asked after a moment before reaching up the doctor jumped slightly before he even touched him. “Oh my,” “No, Sherlock. Don’t. You. Dare.” “All’s fair in love and war, my dear Watson.” Sherlock said before he reached out and there was squirming and squealing again. The doctor was giggling and then the detective was looming over him, John was kicking and thrashing about. “If I hurt you,” he started through labored breaths. “It’s your fault!” Sherlock refused to stop until the doctor’s bandages came up and he saw what his error had caused. He stopped his hands resting on John’s sides and he stared at the dried blood on his head and the cut on his neck. “John,” he hardly recognized his own voice when it escaped his lips, the doctor stared up at him his face red and his chest rising and falling quickly a smile still on his face. “Sherlock?” the doctor breathed and he couldn’t stop himself as he leaned down and pressed his lips to John’s. He felt the breath hitch in John’s throat and there was a moment of stillness just lips pressed together before John leaned into it his arms reaching up his left wrapped around Sherlock’s shoulder to pull him down and his right hand ran along his jawline. “John,” Sherlock said again when they broke apart to catch their breath. “I’m sorry about earlier. I’m sorry about this.” He said bringing both of his hands to hold John’s face he ran his thumbs over the doctor’s cheeks. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against John’s as they sat there breathing. “Sherlock,” John breathed and held onto the detective’s forearms running his hands over them in a soothing motion. “What was that kiss for?” “I can’t lose you.” He opened his eyes and sat back with John following him. “When you said earlier that it was better I thought about it and no it wouldn’t. I-” Sherlock sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “And I can’t even begin to imagine the world without Sherlock Holmes, it wouldn’t be the same. So, I did what I feel I was born to do which is protecting you. I wouldn’t have to if you just listened to me at least some of the time but then you wouldn’t be Sherlock would you?” John chuckled and rested his head on Sherlock’s shoulder. The detective turned and stared at him before reaching up to cup his face again. “Don’t die. I don’t think I could bare it.” Sherlock pleaded as he turned to face the doctor, John smiled and shook his head. “If Afghanistan couldn’t get me no one can. Especially not the criminal classes that are after Sherlock bloody Holmes.” Sherlock leaned closer and John met him halfway their lips meeting, he felt John’s tongue run across his bottom lip begging for access and he granted it with a small whimper. He felt a smile on John’s lips and couldn’t contain himself as he wrapped his arms around the doctor and grabbed a hand full of the hideous jumper. Their lips parted with a gasp for air and John leaned in and started pressing kisses to Sherlock’s jaw and chin. “John,” he moaned when John’s mouth started to run down his neck. “Sherlock,” he felt his name being said on his skin and it sent shivers through his body and a smile spread on John’s lips as he pressed more kisses to his neck. “I-” Sherlock was cut off by his mobile ringing. “I had better get that.” He completed before pulling it out of his jacket pocket John continued to nip at Sherlock’s skin as the doctor started to unbutton the detective’s vest and shirt. “Hello?” “Sherlock, we need you.” Lestrade’s voice cried from the other end. “Now?” he tried not to whine but wasn’t sure if he succeeded especially from the chuckle that vibrated through his skin from John’s mouth. “Murder in a completely locked room,” Sherlock shot up leaving John on the floor with a smile on his lips. “Text me the address we’ll be there soon.” He said before hanging up and starting to re-button his shirt and vest. John stood, straightened his jumper, and shook his head back and forth. “Married to your work right?” He said with a smile Sherlock stared at his lips for a long time before leaning down and stealing a kiss. “Later.” Sherlock murmured.

John sat in the cab and stared out the window thinking about everything that had just happened with Sherlock. He had kissed his best friend, had started to take Sherlock’s clothes off and all of this started because he tickled Sherlock as a punishment. Last time the doctor checked he was almost positive that he wasn’t gay but now, well now he was very confused. He was very thankful that Sherlock was being silent through their trip to the murder scene John didn’t think he would be able to look at or hear the detective’s voice without blushing profusely. He thought about the way it felt when Sherlock had first pressed his lips against his. At first he thought it should be strange, thought he should feel stubble brushing against his skin, but there wasn’t any and when he really thought about it kissing Sherlock wasn’t any different than kissing any woman so he returned the kiss and then he felt it. He felt a little pang in his heart it hurt but he kept going until Sherlock pulled away and they gasped for breath. John still didn’t understand what that strange feeling in his heart meant and he didn’t know why he enjoyed kissing his best friend, a bloke, when he was most certainly straight and NOT gay in any way. “Come along John. We’re here.” Sherlock’s voice shook the doctor from the storm that was brewing in his mind. He clambered out of the taxi behind the detective and paid the cabbie and went to find Sherlock who couldn’t stand in one spot for more than two minutes at a time. “Are you alright?” Donovan asked John as he had been standing in the back silently almost the whole time they were there. “You seem, I don’t know, sad about something.” “What? No I’m fine just thinking about something.” John said shaking his head. “Hey I’m gonna go if Sherlock asks tell him I just needed to go think for a while and I’ll be back at the flat later.” He said before turning and leaving the crime scene and Sherlock behind as he made his way down the street trying to understand what was going on with his head and all of his feeling. It was just after two when he checked his phone before he left so he decided to walk to clear his head for as long as possible. He had always been straight never had to even think about it, yes he could appreciate an attractive man but who couldn’t? It was the same for women right? Even his sister had been able to say when a guy was attractive and some of his girlfriends had been able to appreciate some very pretty women, but he had never actually thought about going up and kissing another bloke. When it came to Sherlock, oh he knew that the detective was attractive Clara and Harry had even told him that once but that didn’t mean anything. Sure, John had caught himself staring at those cheekbones quite a few times but that didn’t mean anything, right? His phone made a noise and he looked down at the text: Where are you? –SH He looked around and shrugged his shoulders at the mobile before shoving it back in his pocket and continuing on. He thought about Sherlock and what was said back at the flat John could understand what Sherlock meant when he said that he couldn’t stand the thought of John dying. It was the same for him towards the detective, if Sherlock died John was almost certain that it would kill him also. Did that mean that he loved Sherlock? Did that make him gay? His phone went off again. John. –SH What did that strange feeling in his heart mean? He had so many questions but didn’t have any answers to them when he got to Baker Street he was even more confused and he didn’t know how to answer any of the questions that clouded his mind. John walked up the stairs slowly and was surprised by a hug from the detective they fell to the floor with a soft thud. “Sherlock?” he asked with a confused look on his face as his best friend buried his face in the doctor’s neck. “Where were you? I was worried. I didn’t know where you went or if you’d been kidnapped or killed and you wouldn’t answer your texts.” “I’m fine, Sherlock. I just went for a walk for a while to clear my head. Sorry I didn’t reply.” He didn’t understand what it meant but he wanted to wrap his arms around the tall thin man that had his face buried in his neck and just hold him for the rest of their lives. And even if John knew if he was in love with Sherlock he still had no idea whether the same was about the detective, Sherlock could have just gone with the spur of the moment he didn’t really understand sentiment or personal space so it could have just been his way of telling John not to die. “John, stop thinking so much. You’re so loud.” Sherlock groaned as he sat up and helped the doctor off of the ground. When they made eye contact his heart clenched again like how it did earlier and he couldn’t stop himself from grabbing his chest through his jumper. “John? What is it?” “Nothing, I’m fine. My heart just feels weird I think it might be heart burn or something.” John lied and gave him a small reassuring smile Sherlock leaned down and pressed his lips against the doctor’s, who sighed at the touch and pressed back lifting his hands to wrap around the detective’s neck. John ran his fingers through the dark curls and Sherlock groaned into his lips before pulling John closer his hands clenching the jumper again. If this was what Sherlock wanted at this moment he’d give it to the detective even if he was still confused about his sexuality.

Sherlock whimpered into John’s mouth when the doctor nipped at his bottom lip he pulled the doctor as close as possible and started to lift John’s jumper up his body when it got to his arms John lifted them over his head and their mouths separated for a moment as the jumper passed over his head. “John,” he said in that moment before he was greeted by the doctor’s reassuring smile that was meant for Sherlock when he did something amazing. “What do you want?” John asked as he tossed his jumper to the side Sherlock’s eyes widened at that question. There was only one answer there would only ever be one answer. “You.” He let out with a contented sigh and John’s eyes softened his arms reached out and he held Sherlock’s head in his hands as he stood on his tip toes to press their lips together. “Always, I want you always, John.” He murmured against the doctor’s lips, he whimpered and nodded his head. “Always Sherlock,” John whispered. “Always,” Sherlock’s hands found John’s shirt and began unbuttoning it his fingers brushing over the naked skin underneath. John’s breath hitched in his throat and Sherlock swallowed the sound that escaped the doctor’s mouth. John’s hands made quick work of Sherlock’s shirt and they were both standing there in their trousers. “God, Sherlock.” John said taking a step back and stared at the detective for a moment. “You’re beautiful, did you know that?” Sherlock pulled John along as he made his way to his bedroom. “John,” he grabbed the doctor’s hand and their fingers twined together of their own volition. He pulled the doctor close and pressed their lips together again before running his lips across John’s jaw line. “Sherlock, I-” John stood frigid and Sherlock could feel the tension rising in the doctor’s body. He pulled away and grabbed John’s face running his thumbs over his cheeks. “You’re confused.” Sherlock deduced. “You’re having a melt down because you are confused about your sexuality at this moment in time because you want to give me this but you don’t know if that means you are gay or if it just because it’s me.” John stared up at him with pleading eyes. “Why are you worried John? This has nothing to do with sexuality this has to do with you being John Watson and me being Sherlock Holmes.” “I don’t know if I love you or if I even like you though.” John cried. “And I don’t want to hurt you. Ever, I just want you to be happy and give you everything you want.” “John,” Sherlock shushed him and pressed his lips against the doctor’s. “Calm down. I would never make you do anything you don’t want to. What do you want?” there was no reply and he pressed their foreheads together. “Tell me John what do you want?” “I want you safe always. I want your attention. I want to run my fingers through your curls. I want to brush my fingers across your ridiculous cheekbones. I want to kiss you repeatedly whenever we come home safe from a case. I want to tickle you when you make me angry about things. I want you happy.” John was silent for a moment before he whispered. “I want you.” Sherlock smiled and kissed John again. “I love you, John. God I love you.” The words felt strange on Sherlock’s lips but he knew that he meant it. John stared up at him like he was the only person in the world and the detective let his eyes roam over the doctor’s face, neck, shoulders, chest, and anywhere else trying to read him like any other day. “Sherlock,” John whispered after a long silence had settled between them. “I thought you were married to your work?” a nervous laugh escaped his lips. “It would seem that I have three loves in my life.” Sherlock replied with a tilt of his head. “The work,” he took a step closer, “the beautiful city of London,” his hands found John’s waist and pulled him close, “and you.” He whispered into the doctor’s ear he could feel the shiver that ran through the smaller man’s body. “I-” John croaked and the detective leaned back so he could see his face. “I still don’t know, Sherlock and I really don’t want to hurt you. But god I should know that you always get your way.” He leaned up on his toes and pressed his lips to Sherlock’s and the detective smiled into the kiss. He pulled John along until he felt the mattress biting into the back of his knees and he sat. John stood over him and began brushing the curls out of his face his other hand held the side of Sherlock’s neck as he ran his thumb over the detective’s jawline. “God, Sherlock.” He whispered. “What?” He asked searching John’s features for a sign of something being wrong. “You are so beautiful.” The doctor said again and color rose in Sherlock’s cheeks as he closed his eyes. “John,” he reached up to grab John’s hand from his neck and pressed his lips to the doctor’s palm. “Please.” “Let’s just take this slow, Sherlock. I’ve never done anything like this before and you’re completely inexperienced so let’s just…” he leaned close and kissed Sherlock’s temple. “Go slow. Take a moment to think about all of the consequences.” “Will you at least stay with me?” Sherlock asked after a moment of silence he opened his eyes and watched a smile spread across his friend’s lips. “Of course, Sherlock.” The detective pulled his feet up onto the bed as he situated and John walked around to the other side and sat. Sherlock reached out and rested his hand on John’s shoulder. When they were both lying on Sherlock’s bed he finally spoke. “Where did you go earlier?” “Hmm, oh I was just walking around mostly just making my way back here.” John replied. “Did you solve the case?” “Yes, I solved it shortly after you left. I was waiting for you to praise me.” Sherlock pouted and John rolled onto his side so he was facing the detective. “You’re amazing, Sherlock.” He said and Sherlock turned and made a face at the doctor. “It’s not the same, John. I was looking forward to you praising me for solving two cases in a twenty-four hour span. I was hoping you’d kiss me at the crime scene just so we could see the look on Anderson’s idiotic face.” “No you’re amazing at everything Sherlock, except keeping yourself safe, if it weren’t for that I wouldn’t know why you keep me around.” John reached over and pulled Sherlock closer. “John, I’d be lost without you. Don’t you know that?” Sherlock’s hands came up and he rested them on John’s chest, his fingers splaying across the slightly hidden muscles. He stared at the comparison of skin tones, his pale against John’s slightly tanned and then his eyes fell on the puckered skin of John’s scar. “May I?” he asked after a long silence as his fingers slowly made their way towards his shoulder. John exhaled sharply, closed his eyes, and nodded. Sherlock let his fingers linger just above it a ghost touch that sent the doctor reeling until he finally touched it and a gasp escaped John’s mouth. “Your fingers are cold.” He murmured and his eyes opened. “Apologies,” Sherlock chuckled and John could feel the sound through where his hands held his friend close. “Just relax.” He said in a rumbling voice that made John’s toes curl and Sherlock leaned closer and pressed his lips to the tout skin of his scar. John’s hands clenched for a moment and then he pulled the detective so that their bodies were tangled together. “Sherlock,” he whispered when he continued to press kisses to John’s wounded shoulder. “What are you doing to me?” Sherlock leaned back and held John’s gaze. “I hope I’m changing your mind about all of this.” He smiled and John shook his head. “Just go to sleep Sherlock, it’s been a very, very long day and we need rest.” “Oh John you know I don’t sleep.” Sherlock waved his hand dismissively. “You solved two cases in one day after not sleeping for a week I think it’s time you let your transport power down for a while.” John mumbled as sleep was already starting to take the doctor. “Very well,” Sherlock agreed and scooted down until he was able to rest his head under John’s chin. “Good night, John.” “…Night Sh’lock.” John slurred before kissing the top of the detectives head lazily and giving one last big sigh before he was breathing evenly. Sherlock listened to the doctor’s heartbeat and even breaths before he closed his eyes to the world and wrapped his arms around John. His John. “Mine.” He mumbled right before he fell asleep.

FIN

[fangirlkat93]

Sherlock Fanfiction ending entry

Okay so recently I read some Sherlock drabbles by a lovely author by the name of sherlock-ninja.  In the last one there is a challenge to write one's own ending.  So that's what I'm doing.  Here goes.  I hope you find this (and like it) Sherlock-ninja.  Oh and just for context purposes; in this I'm going along with the apparent headcanon that Sherlock stays with Mycroft for a bit after The Fall.  Simply because I can't think of any better situation for my particular ending.  So without further ado; my entry:

"Damn it, John," Sherlock whispered furiously.  He typed simply: "Wait" and clicked 'comment.'  It was posted anonymously under John's note.  Sherlock then grabbed a coat and hat that would make him for the most part unrecognizable.  He slammed the laptop closed and dashed out of the room, down the many steps and past Mycroft who asked "What's the rush?"  To which the detective replied: "John needs me."  He bolted out the door, but not before calling over his shoulder: "Be back in a moment."  Sherlock climbed into the closest of Mycroft's cars and ordered the driver take him to Baker street as quickly as possible without attracting too much attention.  The driver protested but soon gave in to his demand as he had never seen the man so full of rage.  Sherlock could be rather frightening if he put his mind to it.  The detective was nervous and frankly twitchy on the ride to his former residence.  Almost before the car had stopped he threw the door open and made his way to 221 B.  He knocked on the door rapidly and when Mrs. Hudson answered he pushed past her; saying in a strange voice: "I need to see Dr. Watson."  He flew up the stairs and exploded into the room.  "John, STOP!" he yelled.  The detective dived at him and did his best to wrestle the gun away.  "John, stop it.  It's me."  Sherlock breathed.  He managed to get the gun out of John's hand and stood for a moment trying to catch his breath.  The doctor's thoroughly confused gaze was locked on him.  "Who..." he uttered.

"John," the detective said simply.  The doctor's eyes widened.  Sherlock brought himself to his full height.  "Please, John don't...  For me, don't do this."  He gently bounced the gun in his hand.  John stood up; he couldn't believe what his senses were telling him.  "Sherlock?" he dared.  The man sighed.  "Yes, John.  It's me.  I'm not really dead, so if you would please not try to join me again, as you won't find me wherever you think you would have been going."  Sherlock put the gun down on the coffee table and turned to walk back out the door.  "Try to keep this quiet, would you?  We can't have everyone knowing-" he was cut off by a blow to the cheek.  "John, what are you-" and an arm wrapped around his neck from behind.  "John!" came the strangled cry; "haven't we done this before?  You were a doctor, remember?"  Sherlock was released.  He stood on his hands and knees trying to catch his breath again.  "I had bad days..." John replied quietly.  "Sherlock, it's really you!"  Happiness returned to John; to the places from which it had been absent for what seemed like an eternity.  "Yes," the detective coughed.  "I told you that.  "I'm alive, John."  The doctor smiled and held out his hand to help Sherlock off the floor.  "I've been waiting a year to hear those words," he said.  "Yes, well I apologize for that," Sherlock responded.  As soon as he was upright John pulled him into the tightest hug he could manage.  The detective hesitated only a fraction of a second to return the embrace with equal rapture.  "I've missed you, John."   Hot tears softened both men's faces as John replied with wavering voice: "I lost you, Sherlock I lost you."  A few more moments passed before the boys dared release one another and step back.  They laughed together warmly and wiped tears from their eyes.  "Don't you EVER do that to me again, Sherlock Holmes," John asserted.  Sherlock smiled.  "I promise," he said.  "Come on; let's get out of here before something awful happens.  I can explain everything when we get to Mycroft's."

"Mycroft's?  This entire time you've been staying with Mycroft?  And he never said a word to me!!!  I'll kill him..."  Sherlock laughed.  "Not the whole time.  I told you, I'll explain later.  We need to make sure no one else knows."  John rolled his eyes.  "Alright, fine.  Not even Mrs. Hudson?"  Sherlock shook his head.  "If at all possible, no."  The detective held out John's coat.  "Shall we?"  John shrugged.  "Fine."  He grabbed his coat and put it on while descending the steps.  "I'm uh... going out Mrs. Hudson."  The landlady could hardly contain herself at the news.  "Alright dear, be careful!!"  The boys smiled at her motherly nature.  "Yes, Mrs. Hudson."  And with that the boys were out the door and on the way to Mycroft's; giggling all the way.  Just like old times.