Someonels
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Mary's dead. John is an absolute mess. His relationship with Sherlock is probably completely f... well. It's not the best at the moment, or so he thinks. Especially not after the shit John had pulled during the Culverton Smith case.
And, to top it all off, he has a toddler that he needs to take care of and he's not doing a terribly good job.
What is a poor ex-army doctor to do but to give in to his deepest heart's desire and move back to 221B?
The fact that Sherlock welcomes both him and Rosie into his home with open arms should be enough, right? His unconditional friendship is already more than John deserves.
So why is it now that he's subjected to seeing Sherlock reading bedtime stories to Rosie and explaining his experiments to her and even taking her to the zoo every other week and, oh god, all of the other bits that he couldn't even have imagined in his wildest dreams... why is it that he longs for so much more?Bookmarked by Someonels
08 Jul 2026
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“Because the more I know, the more I love.”
In the heavy silence of Baker Street, John Watson realizes that knowing Sherlock Holmes is a double-edged sword. To know his past, his habits, and the taste of his lips is to invite an irreversible love—and with it, an inevitable end. A study on the thin line between intimacy and the mortality of a relationship.
Bookmarked by Someonels
07 Jul 2026
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Exceptional Approval by ohlooktheresabee
Fandoms: Sherlock (BBC TV 2010), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
16 Jun 2026
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John is very pleased with how much easier Sherlock is to live with post-wives, and babies that were not his, and lunatic sisters, and explosions. Pleased that Sherlock respects his requests and is making an obvious effort to be a better flatmate - a quieter, more reserved, more tactful flatmate, and a more polite, calmer, more controlled person in general.
John is very pleased.
Isn't he?
NOW COMPLETE!
Series
- Part 9 of OLTAB neurodiversity fics
Bookmarked by Someonels
06 Jul 2026
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When you have a fever, you go soft.
First the bones give way. The proud frame collapses, the spine curls into the duvet, folding into a small, stubborn shape that refuses to ask for help.
Then the lips soften—the dry, cracked lips that can’t quite manage a cutting remark. All they can murmur is one word: cold.
And finally, the hand. That hand that plays the violin, that conducts experiments, that points at a crime scene and says “elementary.”
It slips out from under the duvet and catches the fabric of his shirt.
It holds on so gently and yet so tightly.
Not with the usual controlled composure.
But the way a drowning man grabs at driftwood—no technique, only instinct.
Clutching his shirttail. His sleeve. His collar.
It holds on all night long. It doesn’t let go until dawn.
All night he calls his name.
And all night the other answers, “I’m here.”
The truth is, the fever has made him half delirious; he doesn’t even know what he’s calling for.
But each time he calls, a warm hand reaches out and rests on his forehead.
It stays there until he quiets, then slowly withdraws.
...
Bookmarked by Someonels
05 Jul 2026
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Summary
Sherlock and John experiment.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 680
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 2
- Kudos:
- 119
- Bookmarks:
- 9
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- 1,570
Bookmarked by Someonels
04 Jul 2026