Supernatural Fic Masterlist
Some of my fics are also available on AO3 and Fanfiction.net. You can also find me on tumblr.
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Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock Holmes, Supernatural, the Avengers, or any other characters you may see here. They are the property of their rightful owners and I'm just borrowing them for a little while.
PAID COMMISSIONS: In light of the recent AO3 auction, I was asked if I accept paid commisions - writing fics based off of prompts. The answer is yes. You can find out more information at my Tumblr, including whether or not I am currently accepting comissions. I can also be privately reached by message on Tumblr, PM on LJ or fanfiction.net, and by e-mail: Chibi.Doucet@gmail.com
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( There was nothing in the world quite as good as the look on Sherlock"s face at that moment. John really wished that he had the ability to remember everything like his lover did, because he didn"t want to forget a single thing: the flush on Sherlock"s cheekbones, the way his hair was spread wildly across the pillow, how furiously his pulse was fluttering in his neck. He was certain that if he leaned down and pressed his ear against the man"s chest, he would hear the sound of a heart that was pounding at twice the normal speed, every bit as fast as John"s was. He was tempted to do just that. But doing so would mean losing contact with another vital place and there was no way he was going to let that happen. He wanted this very scenario too much for that.Collapse )
( John woke up feeling deliciously sexed out. He stretched his arms over his head without opening his eyes, mindful of his shoulder, and then relaxed into what had to be one of the most, if not the most, comfortable beds that had ever been made. The room was quiet and dark except for the by now familiar sounds of laptop keys and mobile keys being frantically tapped at the same time. His nose was full of comforting scents and he sighed, rolling over to tuck his face into the curve of one of Sherlock’s hipbones. The typing paused briefly and then a hand found its way into his hair.Collapse )
( Even before he let the memories of the night before sweep over him, Gregory Lestrade knew that the change had been successful. He felt as though he could hear everything, from the wind blowing the curtains around to the faint shuffle of footsteps against the carpet. And the smells... his head was swimming and he didn’t dare open his eyes, he felt like one more addition to the already overwhelming swarm of information that was flooding into him at an extremely fast rate would push him over the edge. So he was entirely unprepared for the gentle, familiar hands that cupped his cheeks and tipped his head up.Collapse )
( Mycroft was gone by the time that Sherlock and John made it back out into the kitchen, but there was now a spread of food on the table that would have rivalled even one of Mrs Hudson’s delicious meals. John looked at the food hungrily, feeling empty for an entirely different reason now, and sat down quickly. He was pulling an empty plate over in front of him when he realized that Sherlock hadn’t sat down yet and was, in fact, ignoring the food entirely. He looked up at his alpha, who had moved over to stand by the door and was looking out into the living room with an expression that looked almost worried, and suddenly the food seemed a lot less appetizing.Collapse )
( In spite of John’s pleading, Sherlock, it seemed, wanted to savour the experience. He kept John tucked up against him and ducked his head so that he could press his face to the back of John’s neck. His lips moved, breathing unintelligible words against John’s damp skin, and John gasped at the tickling sensation and wished desperately that his hearing was good enough to be able to make out what Sherlock was saying over the pounding of the water. He dropped one of his hands and reached back, gripping Sherlock’s thigh, and Sherlock’s arm tightened around his chest in response, his hips shifting minutely.Collapse )
( When he breathed out slowly and then inhaled deeply, all that John could smell was Sherlock. It was like the water was only helping to spread his scent and it hung in the air, warm and hazy and surrounding him on all sides. His eyes fluttered shut and he rested his forehead against the cool ceramic tiles, shivering as Sherlock"s hands trailed up and down his ribs, hips and thighs. Every inch of flesh on his body suddenly felt a hundred times more sensitive than normal and it wasn"t helped at all with the way that Sherlock kept breathing hotly over the mark on his neck. Once in a while he would close his teeth gently around the flesh, pressing just hard enough to make a whimper rise in John"s throat before he would release the mark and lap at it, his tongue sliding over every inch of John’s neck.Collapse )
( So Mycroft and Lestrade had mated after all, John thought, watching the way the two wolves looked at each other with undisguised affection, far more obvious now then it ever would be while they were human. Lestrade stood up and walked over to Mycroft carefully, moving in a way that John was intensely familiar with: he moved with an awkward gait, the walk of someone unused to being on four paws and possessing a tail. He had to admit, though, that Lestrade was a good deal more graceful than John had been the first night he was a wolf. He distinctly remembered falling over more than a few times and he’d woken up the next morning with a bruised nose for his trouble.Collapse )
( John wasn’t sure what he was expecting. A romp through downtown London, possibly, or maybe even a visit to a crime scene - god only knew when it came to Sherlock; he wouldn’t have put it past the man to have a healthy amount of disdain for the human officers of the Yard and their ability to solve crimes during nights of the full moon, Lestrade excluded (sometimes). It turned out, however, that Sherlock disliked other wolves every bit as much as he disliked other people. He avoided the main streets, sticking to alleys and shadows as he led the way, the pace fast enough to dissuade anyone who might have been trying to follow but not so quick that John couldn’t keep up.Collapse )