Johnlock Fluff And Oneshots

Fanfiction and Feelings

And then the raven hared detective gazed at him from across the room. He held his head up in the normal confident fashion and when Sherlock knew he had his companion's attention, he smiled and pointed to the door-

"This is so stupid" John muttered to himself, his fingers pausing over the keys of his computer. He looked around the empty room cautiously for what felt like the thousandth time and sighed. John's cheeks were flushed from embarrassment, and he worried that Sherlock could return early from his stakeout. Despite the anxiety and paranoia of someone discovering what John had been doing, the rush of excitement was far greater than being trapped alone in mind numbing boredom again so the blogger continued to type.

The last mission with Sherlock, nearly a month ago now, had ended horribly with John nearly bleeding to death in an alley. After the incident Sherlock had declared that John was "too careless" and not allowed to go out in the field with him unless he knew it was low risk. John tried to persuade the genius, but Sherlock had made up his mind.

"You'll be more use to me here at home than dead in the street" Sherlock had explained, gently running his hand through his flatmate's hair. And that was the end of that. John was now stuck at the flat for hours on ends, alone with nothing but his thoughts. With no missions to go on, the blogger didn't have any new material to post, and you can only watch movies for so long without getting bored. So John did the only thing he could think of to avoid boredom: write fan-fiction. But what should be his topic? Perhaps the one person he was missing most? The one person that he longed to be beside and helping instead of being left all alone in an empty flat.

And so John wrote about Sherlock and how brave he was. He wrote about the beautiful detective with wit and intelligence unlike any other. The tall, raven hared man that knew just what to say and with one side glance and a smile, could have John's heart thumping wildly against his chest.

"You're pathetic." John huffed and let his head fall onto the desk in front of the keyboard. He glanced over at the front door and stared for a moment, wishing he could go out and help Sherlock. Wishing the detective trusted him more. But that was never going to happen. John would never be able to tell Sherlock his actual feelings or stand up to the man's decisions. He just needed to accept the fact that he was destined to be alone and useless the rest of his life. The only time he could truly express himself was in writing, and with writer's block even that was impossible. John closed his eyes for a moment, too tired to carry on his typing.

"Just for a moment" The blogger thought to himself before slipping into unconsciousness.

__________________________________

"John . . . John? . . . John wake up!" Sherlock's voice sounded in John's ear.

"mmm awake." The blogger muttered fluttering his eyes open. The first thing he noticed was Sherlock who was leaning over him, his brow crinkled in concern. The detectives warm palm was resting against John's back and it comforted the blogger far more than he wanted to admit.

"welcome back." John muttered moodily and sat up in his chair. It was then that he remembered why he had his computer out. John's eyes darted to the screen, as fear crept into his body. But the screen was black. John let out the breath he didn't know he was holding and relaxed back against his chair. He could have sworn he fell asleep with the computer on. It must have died or something.

A moment of silence passed over the two of them before Sherlock decided to speak.

"Are you still mad about not being able to go with me?" Sherlock asked, kneeling down now so that he could prop his head up in his hands on the arm of the comfy chair. John rolled his eyes and shifted his body further away from the detective.

"You're the genius, you figure it out." John muttered. That was all Sherlock needed to hear before he pulled John into a tight embrace.

"I'm sorry you feel so abandoned and alone. But I was only trying to protect you I swear." Sherlock babbled. He held John as if the moment he let go the man would slip away and John welcomed the company. They stayed like that for awhile, John safe against Sherlock's chest. It didn't take much to make the touch starved man lose his bitterness toward the situation, but there was still something nagging at him. How did Sherlock know what he was feeling?

"Sherlock . . ." John whispered against the man's shoulder. Sherlock hummed in response. " How . . . How did you know- oh god no!" John snatched himself away as realization struck him. The computer never turned itself off, it was Sherlock who turned the machine off. That means he saw what the blogger was writing. Sherlock couldn't hold it in anymore, he burst out laughing, watching John's face tint a deep shade of red.

"Want to talk about it?" Sherlock asked.

"Shut up."

"Come on I'm serious. Talk to me. You had a lot to say on the page."

"Shut up." John covered his ears childishly and stood to leave the room. He was too embarrassed to think straight and Sherlock had pulled that charismatic smile of his that made John's heart flutter. Sherlock chuckled and followed after the smaller male.

"John. would you stop being so childish? It's cute, but no way to get your point across."

John ran to the bedroom and huffed. "leave me alone asshole!" before trying to slam the door shut. Unfortunately, Sherlock had seen this coming and had placed his foot in the doorway to keep it propped open. John backed away from the door with eyes wide, knowing he was now cornered.

"So tell me more about this charismatic, gorgeous detective you want to spend all your time with." Sherlock teased, sitting on the bed next to a defeated John who was hiding his face in his hands.

"Please stop talking" the blogger whined. Sherlock smiled and carefully moved to pull John's hands away from his face.

"Hey. Look at me please." Sherlock stated, lifting John's chin enough so that their eyes could meet. John's breath caught in his throat as he felt his stomach doing summer-salts.

"You know, you could have talked to me, right?" Sherlock whispered, leaning closer to the man before him. John was frozen in shock and could only offer a soft nod in response. Sherlock sighed and let him go.

"We will talk about you joining me on cases again later, okay? You just have to promise to be careful and not let this-" Sherlock pointed down at the bandaged hidden beneath John's shirt, "happen again, okay? Believe it or not you are precious to me."

John couldn't speak his tongue felt heavy as if weighed down by bricks. Sherlock said he was precious. What did that even mean? John was trying to process it all.

"Just answer one question for me and I'll leave you alone." Sherlock stated, his brilliant eyes gazing once more into John's. The blogger somehow found the strength to swallow the lump in his throat and speak, although his voice was shaky from his nervousness.

"Go ahead. ask." John muttered. Sherlock smiled in response and placed a soothing hand against John's back. The blogger was too tense and Sherlock just wanted to calm the man.

"Tell me. Do you feel the same way towards me as your character does in your stories?"

John blushed and looked away, giving Sherlock all he needed to know. In that moment Sherlock leaned forwards and moved his hands to either side of John's face to cup his cheeks. The detective turned the embarrassed John's face back into view and swiftly moved forward to place his lips against John's trembling ones.

(I know this chapter sucks! I have really bad writer's block, but i promised you guys and myself that I would post today and I really wanted to keep my word. That being said, I hope to provide better chapters with less wait time between updates as soon as I can. As always, thank you for reading, and if you have any requests on what prompt I should work on next, just either comment it or PM me and I will write it and tag you :) )