John woke up with his hand on Sherlock’s stomach.
The bedroom was bathed in honey-pink morning light and the
warmth of it washed over the bed, gilding Sherlock’s pale skin in gold and rose
and butterscotch. His mess of curls caught the light and glinted back copper
and chestnut, striking against the creamy pillowcase, and John didn’t think
he’d ever seen anything more gloriously captivating in his entire life.He never thought he’d see anything like this. He had lost
his chance at this so many times.But if life with Sherlock had taught him anything, it was
that the impossible happened all the time. And John was here, waking up in bed
with this impossible man whose sheer existence was a miracle three times over,
and John knew down to the marrow in his bones that this was the way it was
meant to be forever.Under his palm, Sherlock shifted, stretching sleep-soft
muscles as he began to wake. Low in throat, he hummed a deep, quiet noise of
satisfaction. John rubbed his thumb in a small circle on his belly, reveling in
the heat and vitality of him.“Morning,” John murmured, quirking the corner of his mouth
into a smile as Sherlock yawned himself awake.“Morning. You’re still here.” His voice, a little rough with
sleep, sounded a bit wondering, as though he had expected to wake up and find
the previous night had been nothing but a dream. He had asked John to stay as
they lay tangled in the aftermath and John was honestly just as pleased as he
seemed to be to wake up with this undeniable evidence that he’d not imagined
everything.John leaned forward to press a kiss to his bare shoulder.
“Yes, I’m still here,” he reassured. “I just woke up.”The small answering smile on his lips was everything John
could have hoped for. Sherlock rolled onto his side, rolling into John’s space,
and John welcomed him in the fold of his arms. Lying nearly nose-to-nose on
John’s pillow, his expression was fond but focused as he took in everything
John knew was written on his face. After a long, contemplative moment, his eyes
slipped closed again and he leaned in and kissed John’s mouth, soft and
lingering.They stayed that way for a long while, pressed up close to
one another, brushing quiet kisses over mouths and cheeks and
foreheads, until Sherlock fell back to sleep with his nose pressed into John’s
clavicle and John thought his heart would burst from bliss and contentment.He had lost this so
many times and now Sherlock was heavy and warm against his chest, and this,
John thought, this was what he’d been waiting for his whole life.Finally.
Midwest Summer
Jack wiped his brow and leaned back, reaching for the bottle of water he had close at hand. American midwest summers were nothing to joke about, especially after getting so used to Cardiff. He’d stripped down to his undershirt and looked down at his current project.
Something had been buried here, maybe a hundred years ago. He was out here digging it up, but even getting an early start the sweat trickled down the back of his neck and the humidity filled his lungs. At least it was under some trees, if it werefully out in the sun he’d have had to come here at midnight.
He checked his wrist strap and saw he was getting close to… whatever it was. Alien, he knew that much. And not that big. With any luck he could sort it out and get it cataloged in no time. Of course if it had been buried this deep, it probably wasn’t going to be that easy.
Picking up the shovel again, he dug in and turned over another bit of dirt. Suddenly, something cold, wet and solid hit him in the back of the head. He spun around, only to take another one to the chest.
“Cas?” The angel was watching him with amusement in his eyes, slinging another snowball with unerring accuracy.
“How the…” Jack bent to try and return fire, but the snow was was already melted. A fourth one hit his shoulder and exploded, spraying droplets of cold.
“That’s it.” Jack used the shovel to knock aside the next one and scrambled out of the hole, going for Castiel’s ankles.
Cas danced aside, another snowball landing in Jack’s hair. Jack shook his head and rolled to his feet, grinning as he faced Castiel, looking for an opening. Cas weighed another snowball in his hand and as Jack lurched for him he darted forward and dropped it down the back of his tucked-in shirt.
Jack swore and yanked up his shirt, cold water running down his back. “I give,” he groaned wringing out his now soaked t-shirt. “Nice to see you, too.”
Castiel wrapped his arms around him from behind, kissing Jack’s scruffy cheek. “I did say I’d come help you.”
“Some help,” muttered Jack, with an eyeroll, still grinning.
“More than you know,” said Cas, “look.”
Jack turned and saw that where the snow had soaked had soaked into the ground, something small had appeared. He checked the reading, then bent and picked it up. “It’s a seed.”
“Yes. Planted, but not compatible with Earth, so it never grew.” Castiel opened his hand for it.
Jack dropped it into his palm. “If you knew that, why did you let me dig it up?”
“I wasn’t fully certain until you got closer to it. It’s home planet is cold, which is why it reacted to the snow.”
Jack shook his head. “Colder than here in the winter? I’m sorry for anyone who lives there.”
“The species that lives there would find this planet to be far too extreme in its temperatures and generally far too warm.” The seed vanished into Castiel’s pocket.
“I know, there’s a million worlds out there.” Jack looked wistfully up at the cloudless blue sky before looking back at Castiel. “I take it the snowballs were to encourage it to show itself.”
“And you did need some cooling down.” There was the smallest breeze as invisible wings fanned Jack.
“Well it wouldn’t be the first time I got a snow stuffed down my clothes. You got any more of that lying around?”
Castiel produced another snowball and balanced it in his palm.
“Good,” said Jack, snatching him from him, taking a step back, and lobbing it against Castiel’s chest.
Castiel blinked and looked down at himself. “You are aware that I do not feel temperatures as you do.”
“Yep,” said Jack brightly. “Just needed a little payback.”
Shaking his head, Castiel had that little smile that meant ’Humans’. Jack stepped forward and kissed him. “Well, since we’re done here and you don’t feel the heat or the cold, you can fill in the hole. I’m going back to the motel. Air conditioning was a wonderful invention.”
“Very well, Jack. I will be along presently.”
Jack got into his truck, knowing that he’d have time for a fast shower before the angel got back. And not nearly enough time to get dressed.
Tenderly Mine – janto321 (FaceofMer) – Sherlock (TV) [Archive of Our Own]
Tenderly Mine – janto321 (FaceofMer) – Sherlock (TV) [Archive of Our Own]
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Sherlock (TV)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson
Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Fluff and Smut, Fluff, Morning Sex, Watching Someone Sleep, Mpreg, Omega Verse, Alpha/Omega, Alpha Sherlock, Omega John Watson, Omega John, Post-Coital Cuddling, Summer, Pregnant Sex, Topping from the Bottom, Anal Sex, No Dialogue
Summary:In moments like this, Sherlock can barely believe what he has in his arms.
This fic is so damned fluffy….
Neon Dinosaurs – type_40_consulting_detective – Sherlock (TV) [Archive of Our Own]
Neon Dinosaurs – type_40_consulting_detective – Sherlock (TV) [Archive of Our Own]
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Sherlock (TV)
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Anderson/Greg Lestrade
Characters: Philip Anderson, Greg Lestrade, Sally Donovan, A full supporting cast of plastic dinosaurs
Additional Tags: Canon Anderson, Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Dinosaurs, Coffee Shops, Donuts
Summary:Philip Anderson wanted to be a Paleontologist, be Criminal Forensics was a better paying field, and he had a wife to support. He also has a secret admirer that loves to leave him little, neon colored plastic dinosaurs.
Okay look, I don’t usually read anything staring Anderson. But this is the fluffiest, cutest fic and your day can only be improved by reading it.
Johnlock – “All you have to do is say, ‘yes'”
It didn’t matter how many times John had rehearsed this in head. He was still anxious as Sherlock walked back into the flat.
The detective eyed him a moment, then walked over to his chair. Before John could react, Sherlock was on one knee in front of him, pulling the box out from he’d tucked it between his leg and the chair.
Flushing, John looked down at him. “What are you doing?”
“Proposing. Obviously. Will you marry me, John?”
“But…I was going to ask you.”
“Come now, John. All you have to do is say yes.”
“Yes. You arsehole.”
Smiling, Sherlock took the ring from the box and put it on his own finger before leaning up to kiss him.
Volunteers (Harkstiel, First Kiss Vid AU Fic)
merindab, here’s a thing for you to cheer you up! I hope you like it. :3 It’s fluffy as hell.
———
Volunteers
Harkstiel ‘First Kiss Video’ AUSterile and bright as a surgical theater, the studio for this ‘first kiss’ video gave Castiel second thoughts about volunteering. Then again, he found the stark whiteness of it (and the lack of anything porn-related) comforting. The stack of waivers he’d signed seemed on the level, but it was still a strange kind of recruitment. Here and now, the efficiency of the set drove home the reality of the event.
His initial volunteer form included spaces for gender preference, and if there were any physical types or characteristics that would make him feel unsafe. He’d left his options open. There were a number of other people here today with him, and Castiel scanned the knot of people at the little spread of breakfast snacks, wondering who he’d be partnered with. He helped himself to a strawberry yogurt and a bottle of water, trying very hard to be warm and friendly without making much eye contact. Best not get attached to anyone. This wasn’t a game of kickball; he didn’t get to pick a team. Castiel flipped the spoon in his mouth, licking at the curve while surveying the field. He wasn’t here to get anyone’s number, he reminded himself. This was someone’s video project, he’d volunteered because of the inherent thrill. Acting like a smarmy pick-up artist would result in nobody inclined to kiss him at all.
Not that Castiel was sure he could DO ‘smarmy.’ According to his friends, his flirtation came off as ‘earnest,’ or ‘nuts.’ No in between.
