rorywritesfanfics

[rorywritesfanfics]

moss’s happy place

what exactly did happen the “last time” Moss left the soldering iron on??

come check it out on ao3

"Moss!" Roy cried as he came in through the door to the basement, dropping his bag and rushing to the fire, which roared in the corner of the room, incredulously taking in the sight of a very undisturbed, curly-haired coworker. "Moss what happened?"

"Oh, hi Roy, how was lunch?" His seemingly undisturbed workmate answered cheerfully, typing away at his keyboard.

"MOSS bloody hell you caught my desk on fire!"

"I did?" Moss knit his eyebrows together before moving his chin with a sharp turn, his lovely nest of curls bobbing on his head. "Wow a fire,"

"wow? WOW? You've got to be fucking-" Roy grumbled as he found the fire extinguisher on the other side of the basement office, reading the instructions and finally pointing the nozzle to the base of the fire, "CALL 999 Moss,"

"Right! Do you think they'd mind me phoning them? I could always send an email," Moss pecked at the phone before Roy slammed his hand on the younger man's desk.

"For Jesus' sake, Moss, the fire's out now," Roy dropped the fire extinguisher and growled at his newly singed, blackened and melted PC before turning his sharp glare to his colleague.

"You look angry," Moss said quickly, hands folded in his lap, adjusting his tie and looking up through his glasses with wide brown puppy-dog eyes.

"You're damn right I'm angry," Roy grumbled, his voice low and sharp, sending shivers down Moss' spine, and he sniffed at the air. Roy had sweat through his thin layer of deodorant (main ingredient Aluminum Phosphate, he should tell him to change it, it was known to cause ovarian cancers)

"Are you listening to me, Moss?!"

"What?"

"You could've died Moss," Roy growled, standing to the side of Moss's desk and leaning forward, arms braced on either sides of his swivel chair, leaning in and whispering in a deep dark voice, "Get over the desk, now," Moss's breath caught, his eyes glowing with fear.

"Wh-what?"

"You heard me, over the desk, pants down,"

"But- Roy I-" The Irishman snarled, grasping him by his tie and flipping him over his desk, in one swift moment his trousers and pants were around his ankles, his long legs exposed, his arse a pale shade of brown, and Roy growled, placing a possessive hand just at the top of it, thumb brushing across the cleft of it, his eyes dark and glowing.

"You act like a child, I'll treat you like a child," Moss shivered, gooseflesh rising on his exposed buttocks as his glasses were smoshed into the desk.

"But- Roy!" He cried helplessly, a dark blush rising on his cheeks.

"No Moss. You've earned this,"

Roy smirked as he unlooped his belt, the buckle clattering as he pulled it into a loop.

"Count and say thank you, Maurice,"

"Yes, sir," Moss whimpered, pulling himself up onto his elbows, wriggling on his toes and shifting from side to side, bound by his pants around his ankles, sock braces on full display as he squirmed.

"Settle, Moss," The scruffy man gave a warning smack with the palm of his hand and Moss tucked his head between his shoulders, his dark curls brushing against the table top, his cheeks flushed. Roy had spanked him before, but never with the belt! Wouldn't it hurt? He didn't have much time to think before-

SLAP!

The IT proffesional reeled forward, gasping at the sharp sting that radiated on his bum in a thick pink stripe across the pale cinnamon skin as it jiggled from the impact.

"Moss," Roy pinched his afflicted skin in a twist, sending tears blurring into his eyes, his glasses fogging before they clattered to the floor.

"One! Thank you, sir!"

"Good boy," Roy rubbed a small circle across his right cheek, thumb barely touching the burning skin before standing and pulling his arm back again.

"Ah! Ow! Two! Thank you, sir,"

He squirmed and his eyes grew blurry as the number grew, his arse now decorated with some nasty welts, and Roy's callused palms gave each a delicate rub, and Moss felt hot tears on his cheeks, his curls bobbing with each smack.

"Nine! Nine, sir, thank you!" He cried, his voice thick and mottled with tears as his feet tried to fight, his legs fidgeting and his arse burning with heat. Roy rolled his shoulder and pulled back one punishing blow and Moss sobbed, "T-ten! Roy, thank you, sir," his cheeks now soaked with salty liquid. Moss was quiet, his breathing ragged and his hands grasping tight to the lip of the desk, his keyboard shoved to the side, his eyes clenched shut in anticipation of the next blow.

"Shh, come here, darling," Roy sat in his swivel chair and pat his knee, tugging a weeping Moss into his lap, minding his sore bum and wrapping his arm around his hip, a sweet little nose tucked into his neck, his soft textured hair resting on his shoulder and Roy smiled to himself, rubbing a soothing circle on his back. "You did so good for me, such a good boy," Moss sniffled and cuddled closer, hands grasping to his t-shirt, tear tracks drying, and he rubbed his itchy cheeks on the lapels of Roy's jacket.

"Now, what did you do to earn all that?" Roy pulled his shoudlers back and looked him at seriously, trying not to coo at his weepy brown puppy eyes.

"I- I left my saughtering iron on and that's bad,"

"Yes, Moss, good, that's very bad and are you going to do it again?"

"I'm bad." Moss whispered, his eyes fixed on the ground and his nose twitching with silent sniffles. Roy tutted and grasped his chin, bringing their faces closer, his eyes glowing with a dark seriousness that sent an involuntary shiver through Moss.

"You, Maurice, are not bad. You just can't do that again, love, you could've gotten hurt," The doleful man nodded and tucked his nose back into Roy's shoulder.

"I love you, Roy,"

"I know, Moss. I love you too."

"Are we homosexuals, Roy?" His sweet peppy voice had returned and Roy laughed, patting his back, his warm bum resting on his knee.

"I don't think there's a word for what we are," Roy ran his palm across Moss's hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"I'm sorry I started the fire, Roy,"

"You're forgiven Moss, now take some deep breaths, that's it, good boy," Moss sucked in a wobbly breath and smiled slightly, feeling bashful, loved and a bit sore.

"Can I have some milk now?"

Roy chuckled and nodded and Moss whispered a quiet, tiny "yay!"

#the it crowd #maurice moss #nerdiness #spanking #fanfiction #the it crowd fanfiction #one shot #richard ayoade

[rorywritesfanfics]

so here's the thing, I got a little sloshed and I started crying about when Monty the corgi died and so I wrote this crack

#sherlock #sherlock fanfiction #fluff #crack #corgis #puppylove #rory #johnlock #johnlock headcanons #drunk writing #sad drunk #sloshed #hammered #pissed #wasted #you know the drill

[rorywritesfanfics]

Reasons why people write fanfictions

5% just wanna write and have an idea

10% canon did WHAT!? I’m sorry(I’m not) to disagree BUT *write intensely*

15% wanna write something with these characters specifically

70% didn’t find the very specific and precise fanfic they’ve been searching for hours and came to the inevitable conclusion that they have to provide it themself  *mutters* “ fuck ”

[rorywritesfanfics]

sneak peek

this is a preview of a fic I’m writing, because I see a ton of “Q is a Holmes” but slim to no “Q is Sherlock”, so I thought I’d give it a go because I have a huge Bond kink. if anyone has any suggestions????

"Ah, 007, hello, I'll be with you in a moment," James Bond stood in the doorway of the abandoned lab, sharply dressed in a bespoke black tuxedo, black bow tie hanging untied around his neck- watching his bespectacled outfitter as he worked, "Any problems with the latest equipment?" Q offered, still quite engrossed in something or another on his bench. The blonde man in black only smirked, hands in his trousers pockets, shiny black shoes clacking across the cement floor of the garage. 

"No, no problems. Brilliant, per usual, Q," Bond said smoothly, stepping over and leaning his back on the bench, crossing his arms and tilting his head a bit, "Working late?" 

"Well, the plans you retrieved from Putchek have proven quite well encripted. It'll take me a few weeks to crack, he's used a silicon chip, it's actually quite fascinating, these things," Bond took a step closer, his masculine, minty, gunpowder smell filling the nostrils of the scientist. "They-they can store hundreds of documents," Bond's strong fingers found their place on his hip, turning him around, stormy blue eyes flickering dangerous. "erm, I mean, they're much more, compact," Bond pushed closer, arms on either side of Sherlock, nose coming oh-so-close to his exposed neck. "Sir, I must ask you to back away,"

"Is that really what you want, Sherlock?" Q gasped, pale eyes flashing with shock, swallowing nervously, cheeks flushing pale pink. 

"I must ask you not to use that name, sir, for my safety as well the integrity of MI6, please," Sherlock's breath caught as Bond continued to come closer, running a hand through his midnight curly hair, petting him softly. "I didn't know you were interested, sir, in men that is," Bond chuckled, thumb brushing across the younger man's sharp cheekbone. 

"I've been interested for some time, darling," Bond pressed a supple kiss to his neck, sucking a darkening mark there, hands resting on his shoulders, thumbs tucking under the collar of his lab coat, tugging it off slowly. It fell at their feet in a pile of white fabric. "very interested indeed," He breathed into his neck, a thousand little hairs standing on end. Bond brushed his fingers across the marble expanse of his neck, planting a line of reddening kisses down, stopping and unbuttoning the top buttons of his shirt, sucking into an pale exposed collarbone. 

"James- I- I must insist, I'm a professional, M would be so," He let out a sharp breath through his nose as Bond bit down a bit, "cross with me,"

"For one night, beautiful, be my Sherlock, and I will be your John," The suited gentleman breathed into the air between them, carding his hand through the curls on the back of his neck.

"John?" Sherlock whispered, dark eyelashes fluttering as he looked up, pale blue eyes innocent and sweet. Bond only smirked, fingers undoing the purple buttons with precision, fingers grazing the pale trembling flesh below. 

"Such a delicate touch,"

"Sheer magnetism, darling, you've read my file," Bond whispered, fingers running over Sherlock's nipple, pinching delicately at the sensitive little bulb.

"Seen the footage too,"

"Oh, have you now?" He gave his nipple a slight twist, Sherlock left gasping and sputtering, eyes half-lidded, head of dark shining curls thrown back. "did you, enjoy it?"

"You're, rather experienced, in the field," Sherlock said quickly, blushing furiously as 007's callused hands traced around his sides, tickling along his back before finding their mark, squeezing his plush little arse. Sherlock let out a cry, growing harder and harder by the second. "But you've never, done this with me,"

"I would you know. Only "M" would have me court-martialed...illegal use of government equipment."

Sherlock swooned right then and there, thank God Bond caught him, hands on either side of his ears, pulling him close for a warm, sloppy kiss, suckling on his bottom lip, his hot sweet breath tasting slightly of a gin martini, shaken not stirred. Bond's hands fluttered down, pulling his shirt off his shoulders, pulling him up onto the tabletop. Sherlock's legs spread to either side of 007's hips, pushing back into the kiss, eyes pressed closed.

This wasn't real. This was a dream. He was dreaming. 007 was kissing him. Kissing him. 

"You're a good boy, aren't you, do what you're told?" Bond whispered, smirking beneath Sherlock's lips. 

"Try to be, sir,"

"Well then, is anybody using the db5 at the moment?"

"no sir,"

"Well then, care to go for a spin?" Bond smiled, pulling Sherlock's shirt back up his shoulders. "I really do prefer to keep things discrete, wouldn't you agree?"

"my flat sir, it's not far,"

"Good lad."

~~~~~~

@sherlockedcumbercookie @justficsandstuff @maddiestundentwritergaines @backinthemindpalace @colourfulwatson

#Sherlock #bbc sherlock #james bond #martin freeman #martin freeman is a daddy

[rorywritesfanfics]

when you read a better writen version of one of your fics and eat a pint of ice cream and cry bc you wish you’d written that one

[rorywritesfanfics]

31 for the one word prompt!!!

AHHH finally!! this is my first request!! sorry it got so fluffy, I’m in a terrible mood and needed a bit of cheering up.

31. lies

221b was quite a sight when John came through the door that afternoon- papers everywhere, experiments toppled over, glass shards in the rug, and three-wait, four new holes in the wall. Frustration bubbled in his stomach as he stepped over a puddle of tea? And made his way into the sitting room, expecting to find his boyfriend flopped on the sofa or his chair. He wasn’t there. 

“Sherlock?” John set the shopping bags on the floor of the kitchen, not in any mood to try to clear off the bench, where his mobile still lay. Oh, shit, he must’ve forgotten it.

35 new messages from dorkface;)

“Sherlock, what the hell is going on?” No response. In fact, the flat was utterly silent. Sherlock’s coat was on the rack by the door, his shoes tucked under the coffee table, he hadn’t left. John’s frustration instantly became worry. Hell, why was he worried? Sherlock was always ignoring him, making messes, what was new? Something. Something was wrong. “Sherlock?” He asked into the hallway, knocking on the bathroom door. No answer. He opened the door to Sherlock’s room. Empty. Okay, this was strange, and John’s nervousness was becoming hard to ignore. He knocked on the bathroom door again.

“John, please go away,” Sherlock’s voice was squeaky, soft and broken and fearful, like a child’s. John’s eyes widened and he knocked again.

“Sherlock, the flat’s a mess, what’s happened?”

“Nothing! Nothing’s wrong, just go. Away!” Sherlock was desperate, pleading, and John was having none of this. Screw respecting privacy. Something was wrong.

“I’m coming in Sherlock.” The door was thankfully unlocked, and the shorter man gasped at the sight of Sherlock huddled in the clawfoot tub, huddled into a ball. “You’re wearing my jumper,” John observed, the cream knit stretching across his broad shoulders, the sleeves comically too short. “Sherlock, why’re you wearing my jumper?” John said calmly, sweetly, as if talking to a frightened animal.

“I can take it off. It was for an experiment.” John stepped closer and knelt by the side of the tub, Sherlock curling in on himself seemingly impossibly tighter. John carded a hand through his trembling curls, smiling to himself at their delicate, feathery softness.

“An experiment?” 

“Testing, erm, fiber strength in scottish wool.” Sherlock poked his eyes above his arms, looking at John with widened, glowing blue eyes, like a child caught with his hand in the biscuit tin.

“Sherlock, that’s a lie. You know all about wool strengths or whatever, I’ve read the blog.” John murmured, brushing his palm across his lover's cheek as he continued to pet his hair, digging his trimmed fingernails into his scalp a bit, the world’s only consulting detective almost purring at the touch. “I forgot to tell you I was going out, didn’t I?” 

“You did.” Sherlock swallowed, looking down, flushing with embarrassment. John smirked, his gaze never dropping from Sherlock, watching him with intense love. 

“You were in your mind palace, love,” John leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I didn’t think you’d notice.”

“Well, I did, and it’s fine.” 

“Do I need to put a tracker on my phone so you can know where I am?” John smiled, indigo eyes glowing.

“I can always call Mycroft.”

“Yeah, right, love that.” John rolled his eyes and Sherlock bit back a laugh. “So, my jumper, huh?”

“Well, you weren’t using it. And it- it smells like you.” John smirked and kissed Sherlock chastley on the lips before standing and offering a hand. 

“You wanna sit on the couch and complain while I clean the flat?”

“Oh, you read my mind doctor.”

#Sherlock #sherlock fluff #sherlock drabbles

[rorywritesfanfics]

As Britain prepares to enter the second world war, 15 year old omega Sherlock wrestles with his identity as he comes to terms with his arranged marriage to John Watson, a wealthy 27-year-old army captain who is soon to ship out, and eager to show Sherlock that maybe being an omega isn't quite so terrible after all. 

#bbc sherlock #sherlock fanfiction #omegaverse #omega sherlock #alpha john #bottomlock #lots of sadness #angst #wwii au

[rorywritesfanfics]

New headcanon. After the fall when Sherlock goes away to dismantle Moriarty’s network imagine his suprise when everywhere he goes, he’s just too late. Because someone was there before him, and killed them all. It takes him a while. But then he realises. It’s John. Avenging his death.

[rorywritesfanfics]

Through The Years Fic

The day your otp met

The day they had their first real conversation

The day she fell for him

The day he fell for her

The day she realised he was taken

The day he realised that she would be never be interested

The day they had given up

The day there was hope

The day the got together

The day they fought

The day they broke up

The day the realised that they were soulmates

The day they got engaged

The day they tied the knot

The day they were joined by someone else

[rorywritesfanfics]

me externally: I write fanfic because I enjoy it! I write for myself!

me internally: validate me. drown me in kudos. i will sell my soul for comments and fic recs

[rorywritesfanfics]

One Word Writing Prompts

Send me a number 1 thru 50 for a word that I’ll use to write either a headcanon, drabble, or starter. Send 🌀 for a random number instead.

01. — first 02. — kiss 03. — final 04. — numb 05. — broken 06. — wings 07. — melody 08. — rules 09. — chocolate 10. — nostalgia 11. — heartbeat 12. — stranger 13. — confusion 14. — bitter 15. — afterlife 16. — daybreak 17. — audience 18. — endless 19. — fireworks 20. — wishing 21. — birthday 22. — tomorrow 23. — oppression 24. — agony 25. — return 26. — protection 27. — boxes 28. — hope 29. — preparation 30. — beautiful 31. — lies 32. — underneath 33. — hide 34. — diary 35. — unforeseen 36. — conditional 37. — gone 38. — clear 39. — heartache 40. — wired 41. — insanity 42. — foolish 43. — words 44. — study 45. — love 46. — skies 47. — stars 48. — lucky 49. — shake 50. — punctual

[rorywritesfanfics]

hiya! i changed it a bit but it’s pretty similar

definite WIP!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24725122/chapters/59767042

@majesticnerdynerd

hey! do you happen to know a teenlock fic where john gets into a bet with his friends and ends up acting in the school play romeo and juliet with sherlock

Hey Nonny!

Ahhh, I’m sorry, I don’t! I wonder if there is one? Anyone know of any?

#johnlock #nonny #steph #sherlock #romeo and juliet #sherlock x shakespeare #teenlock #pining

[rorywritesfanfics]

i need to clean up my dash and only follow sherlock blogs... :,)

so if you are a sherlock blog pls like/reblog this!!! so i know who you are ♡

[rorywritesfanfics]

Sherlock and Daddy have a very merry little christmas indeed...

#sherlock #sherlock fanfic #johnlock fanfic #john watson #sherlock holmes #martin freeman #daddy #daddy kink #christmas smut #unilock #johnlock #improper use of fairy lights

[rorywritesfanfics]

[rorywritesfanfics]

Sherlock and John! 🌈

[rorywritesfanfics]

#sherlock holmes #god damn #ill be in my bunk