Classic fluff from 2022 in the bbc-sherlock fandom. 😍
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson
Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson
Additional Tags: Fluff, Did Sherlock mess things up again?, Sherlock and John on a beach holiday, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson in Love
Summary:
John and Sherlock find themselves alone on a beach with all the time in the world.
prompts: unlikely | fog | anniversary by @fluffbruary <3
fandom: BBC Sherlock
will be uploaded to "That Stuff Called Fluff" on Ao3, too!
A/N: this is a bit long. just so you know :)
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"Put your coat on. We are going out!", Sherlock had said, already throwing said piece of clothing in John's general direction.
Confused, John had caught it and put it on without going into what the energetic man's plan was, because he knew he wouldn't get an answer anyways.
He had expected a case. He had not expected to find himself in the exact same spot as five years ago on this exact day. At Angelo's. With a candle between them.
"Sherlock! Glad to see you here again! What do you and your boyfriend want?", the restaurant owner asked, while putting their drinks down. John gaped at Angelo. Did he seriously still think the two of them were a couple?
When the chef left, John felt Sherlock's gaze on him. "What? What is it?", he asked irritated.
"You- You didn't decline it."
"Didn't decline what?", John asked stupidly, even though he knew exactly what Sherlock was talking about.
"You being my... boyfriend.", the detective said that last word carefully.
"Well, by now I think we are beyond that point, aren't we?"
Sherlock stared at him. He didn't blink. After a few seconds Sherlock asked, "Beyond what point?"
"Beyond the point of - thank you -", Angelo brought them - well, John - dinner. "-the point of declination."
Sherlock sat frozen across from him.
"Not-", John took a gulp from his drink. "Not that we are... you know... boyfriends. But people are talking anyways, no matter what I say."
John started eating, but soon felt uncomfortable when he felt Sherlock's eyes on him, still. "It doesn't bother me, you know. Let them think whatever."
Finally Sherlock let his gaze drift out of the window. When he looked back his facial expression was determined. "It doesn't bother me either, John."
John nodded. Then looked up, feeling very much reminded of exactly five years ago. Like when Sherlock had said 'Girlfriends? No, not really my area.' Was there some subtext or was he just imagining things now?
"What-", John swallowed, relieved he had his food as an excuse to do so. "What are you saying?"
Sherlock looked into John's eyes, intensely. "I'm saying... 'it's all fine.'" To John's great surprise Sherlock hesitantly put his hand on John's knee.
John looked at that hand on him for a few seconds, then up at Sherlock. Then he scoffed.
Sherlock took the blogger's reaction for rejection and pulled his hand back like he had burned himself.
"That was my line. From five years ago.", Was the only thing John could think of to say.
"It's...", The intense gaze from earlier had completely faded. Sherlock looked self conscious and he avoided looking at anyone, especially looking at John. "It's our anniversary, John."
The doctor was ultimately confused by now. Was Sherlock hitting on him? He decided to just ask: sometimes he hated having to figure out riddles. "So, if it bothers neither me nor you that people are talking, saying we are a couple... and we both say 'it's all fine'... What does that mean for us?"
Sherlock looked back at him, eyes challenging. "What do you want it to mean?"
John leaned back this constant tiptoeing drove him slowly but surely crazy. "Look. Let's be clear. Five years ago - I might have denied it afterwards - but yes, yes, of course I've been coming on to you. But you said 'you're married to your work', so I backed the hell out. Ever after I found it highly unlikely you'd want to be... in a relationship. And yes I've denied us being a couple when people assumed, because-"
"Because you wanted to protect your heterosexuality.", Sherlock interjected.
"I- well, maybe I did. By now I'm thinking, hell, screw my heterosexuality if that means I could be with you in that way." John looked at Sherlock who was once again apparently frozen on the spot. He sighed, realizing his declaration was quite rough. "Look, I've been stupid. I was fascinated at first sight by you, but only after I got to know you I fell in love with you. At that point our friendship was too important to risk for an unlikely relationship. I thought you weren't interested in someone-"
"John."
"-anyone like that so I-"
"John."
"-never confirmed any assumptions and never made a move."
"John."
The doctor breathed out anxiously, "Yes?"
Sherlock put his hand on top of his. "Would you like to be my partner? In a-", Sherlock cleared his voice. "-romantic way?"
John looked at him, his mouth slightly open, eyes wide; not believing how incredibly stupid they've been. Walking through a fog of miscommunication for years...
"Oh god, yes."
And that is how it came that they entered that restaurant as strangers five years ago, and walked out of it as a couple this evening, exactly five years later.
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A/N: five years is kind of a random number tbh... i kinda hated this, then liked it and now don't like it again. so... YES to feedback! (you turtles are the only reason why i like my writing sometimes :P) *throws badly cut out paper hearts at you (because that's my thing)* 🐢
tag list! (tell me if you wanna be added or removed💚) @justanobsessedpan @helloliriels @fluffbyday-smutbynight @inevitably-johnlocked @hisfavouritejumper @rhasima @forfucksakejohn @ohlooktheresabee @turbulenttrouble @7arantellgrrl @ssmeowl123 @so-youre-unattached-like-me @totallysilvergirl @peanitbear @train-mossman @loki-lock @smulderscobie @timberva @grace-in-the-wilderness @chinike @pansherlock @the-smol-bean-libby-blog @jawnn-watson @whatnext2020 @escapingthereality @missdeliadili @kettykika78 @musingsofmyown @7-percent @speedymoviesbyscience @astudyin221b @francj15 @almosttinycowboy @ladylindaaa @we-r-loonies @mxster-jocale @sherlockcorner @noahspector @our-stars-graveside @jobooksncoffee @baker-street-blog @psychosociogentleman @quickslvxr @macgyvershe @myladylyssa @johnlock2708 @battledress @a-victorian-girl @dreamerofthemeadow
A silly Forger parent's Valentine's day celebration. Or was it? (AO3)
-------------------------
“So, what is your plan for today?”
Yor blinked at Camilla’s curious question.
Receiving no answer, the blond lady’s brow furrowed, “Don’t tell me you forget that today is Valentine's day?”
Yor’s eyes widened in surprise, “I’m…not??”
Camilla sighed, “I wonder how a dunce like you could get such a hot hubby like that.” She then narrowed her eyes, “Are you guys even truly married in the first place?”
Yor sputtered, “Of… Of course, we are!!”
Oh no!! You’ve been careless, Yor!!
Forgetting a day this important could make people question your wife status!!
Think of something!!
Quick!!
“I never see you wear any ring either….” Camilla pressed some more.
Yor gulped, “I choose not to wear a ring on a daily basis. But I do have it. And we have our marriage certificate……”
The frowning face looked directly at the red eyes, challenging Yor to spill the truth. Sweating bullets, the Forger matriarch tried to retort as best as she could, “We…. we do have a plan.”
“What plan?”
“It’s a secret. But that’s one of the reasons that I ask to leave the office early.”
“Huh? When did you ask-...”
“Now.”
“Enough with the chatter!!” Mr. Barnes' scolding came right on time. And as the workers started to scatter back to their respective corners, Yor took the opportunity to ask for her early leave for the day.
.
The black-haired lady had been pacing through the supermarket’s aisle several times already.
All little information she gathered in that short amount of time to understand tidbits about Valentine's day told her that it involved chocolate, gifts, and dates.
Going by that order, she tried to find Loid representable chocolate.
Unfortunately, she had missed the preorder days of chocolatier handcrafted chocolates, so now her only option was the limited choices of chocolate that were left on the sparse shelves of the supermarket.
This won’t do!! Loid doesn’t like sweets! Perhaps I should give him something more practical?
Suddenly a shiny special package of chocolate caught the woman’s eyes.
Oh? Anya will love this Bondman special peanut chocolate!
Akh!! Anya!!!
The woman gasped when she was reminded that if she wanted to ask Loid for a dinner date, she had to call someone to watch over Anya.
Lucky for her, Yuri was in town, and she was able to contact her brother in time. Her brother had grumbled at first, but he soon cheered up after Yor promised to give him a bar of special chocolate that she grabbed from the supermarket.
.
Twilight slipped out from his secret trap door at the hospital and pulled the mechanism to close it.
He then carefully pulled out the bundled documents in a plastic bag from the inside of his shirt and placed it at his table.
The man reeked of sardines, courtesy of his last mission of retrieving those documents from an informant who worked at the fisherman’s boat.
His phone rang.
Expertly the spy switched on his dr. Forger persona and pick up the phone, “dr. Forger speaking….”
“Mrs. Forger is waiting at the lobby,” he heard Nightfall’s monotonous voice relaying the information.
The man’s brows furrowed in confusion as he glanced at the clock inside his office. He surely didn’t have any plans, and he hadn’t passed his working hour yet.
“Should I drive her out?”
“No! No!! Tell her to wait for a moment….. I just need some time to …. make myself representable.”
“If she’s bothering your job, I could just-...”
“Fiona,” the man told his coworkers firmly, “Tell her to wait. I’ll leave the documents at my desk.”
“............”
“Fiona. Do you-…”
“Fine.”
Twilight winced at the sudden harsh hung-up.
The blond man sighed. Suddenly he felt even more tired than he should.
.
After taking a shower and getting rid of the fishy odors as best as he could, he finally met Yor at the Hospital’s lobby.
The corner of his lips tugged upward automatically when he saw the sparks in his wife’s eyes. Somehow his fatigue lessen even for a tiny bit.
“I’m sorry for making you wait, Yor. Do you need something from the hospital?”
His wife shook her head a bit too violently, “No! I just…. I…. “
The man raised his brows, he silently encouraged his wife to continue.
Blushing madly, Yor finally answered, “Loid, can I invite you to a date right now?”
Eyes slightly widened because Loid never expect such a request coming from her. During their playing house all this time, Yor has never been the one to take such initiative.
It felt refreshing.
And the realization made his smile widen as he answered, “Of course!”
.
Unfortunately, for some unknown reason, all the restaurants around their vicinity seemed to be fully booked.
After walking around for some time, they finally gave up on fine dining and bought a simple bratwurst and bread takeaway from a small stall.
They then ended up at the corner of Yor’s favorite park and sat at the last empty bench available.
The spy truly didn’t understand the reason why all people from the city suddenly decided to dine out at the same time.
Nevertheless, he honestly appreciated being able to sit in a quiet corner of the park and enjoyed the calm afternoon breeze.
Wondering if his wife also shared the same contentment, Loid glanced at his side.
He nearly choked on his bread upon seeing the gloomy face of his wife.
“Yor?! What’s wrong?”
Yor’s lips quivered when she looked back at him, and whispered, “I’m sorry, Loid. I should’ve prepared the date plan better….”
“It’s fine, Yor. I mean, who would’ve guessed that people decided to dine out at the same time this afternoon, right?”
His wife blinked at him.
“And to be quite honest, I enjoy sitting in a quiet place like this once in a while.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
His wife’s shoulders significantly deflated in relief that made Loid chuckle.
Before the man was able to take another bite at his Bratwurst however, his wife presented an awkwardly warped brown box tied with pink ribbon.
When he gingerly accepted the thing, he heard her whisper shyly, “Happy Valentine, Loid.”
Loid’s mouth hung open.
Suddenly he knew the reason why people went out of their homes for the day.
He mentally slapped himself for forgetting such an important day.
“I noticed that you don’t like sweets, Loid. So I think, this gift would be more appropriate,” His wife added.
He looked down at the gift, then at the bright face of his wife.
“I-.... Thank you, Yor. I’m sure this…. This…..” He awkwardly pointed at the box. Regaining composure as fast as he could he unwarped the gift and upon seeing the gift inside his brows furrowed, but he continued, “This…. pen will be very useful.”
That’s really an awkward-looking pen. Is it a fountain pen or something?
Yor grinned from ear to ear, “That’s actually not a real pen.” She then took the ‘pen’ from the box, expertly twist open the rear part to show an empty ampule.
“It’s a secret injection syringe,” She started to explain, “You can put the calming medicine or something like that inside, and use it to protect yourself, should your patient get too violent.”
Yor then sheepishly added, “I’m sure you have such type of medicine, right?”
Loid stiffly nodded, “We do, yeah…”
“I mean, obviously you don’t want to hurt your patients. But I noticed that sometimes they can be very violent. Like….” she gestured to him, “I don’t know what happened to you today, no offense, but you smell like fish. Did your patient slap you with fishes today?”
Again the man could only nod at the ridiculous reasons his wife made up.
“Figures. If I could, I really want to be there to protect you. But I can’t. So…” Yor smiled.
Loid’s mind went blank.
His heart felt warm from such a sincere gesture, but at the same time, his mind couldn’t comprehend how wild her imagination can be.
He chose to focus on the former feelings, and sincerely replied, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
The Forger couple then continued their eating in silence. But during the time, Loid actually raked his brain to return the gesture. His forgetting the day obviously made him didn’t prepare any gift.
A gentle sound of a violin played by the street musicians caught his ears. And the man smirked as he might finally know what to do.
He stood up and offered his hand to Yor, “I’m sorry that I didn’t prepare any gift to give you, but may I offer you this dance?”
Yor looked at his hand, unsure, “I’m not a good dancer….”
“Don’t worry about that. This is not a ball. And I smell like fish. Nobody will judge us.”
Yor chuckled when she finally took his hand and stood up.
The couple then moved their body to their own rhythm. But that’s enough to wash the weariness of the day off.
Bonus:
During their walk home, Loid couldn’t stop thinking about 1001 ways of how he could use the intricate tools Yor had just given him to help with his missions. Suddenly a very important thing clicked in his mind, and he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Uh… Yor, where did you get this kind of tools?”
Yor stopped in her tracks. She didn’t even think that far when choosing one of her assassinations gadgets as a gift for Loid. It was made by the Garden obviously, but she can’t tell him that. She was sweating bullets when the curious eyes of her husband kept demanding an answer. “I … uuuhh….. Frankie?”
Loid’s brow furrowed at that, but he nodded. He made a mental note to scold Frankie later for daring to give such dangerous inventions to his wife.
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Poor Frankie ^^;
Thank you Mei from the discord server for allowing me to use this idea.
So that I could write something for Valentine’s Day :D
Only a prompt from this list today. One of the bonus prompts. More of my fics here.
Aziraphale’s hands in his feathers are not what Crowley expected.
Oh he expected the angel would be careful - and he is - and that he would be gentle - and he definitely is - but not…
Not this tenderness.
Aziraphale runs his fingers across each feather before he does anything else, a brief touch that sends shivers down Crowley’s spine. Only then does he gently preen them, looking for dirt or loose feathers which he removes with slow, tender movements. There’s no other word for how careful Azirpahale is with Crowley.
If this is what he’s like for their first mutual grooming session, Crowley isn’t sure he’ll survive another.
By the time Aziraphale has finished the most preliminary of preenings, Crowley is a pile of goo pretending at a human shape. By the next go through - probably not needed, but Aziraphale is being thorough, Crowley can tell - Crowley’s not sure he exists as anything other than contented pleasure at the hands of his angel.
‘Crowley?’ Aziraphale asks and Crowley manages a vague noise that might be acknowledgement. ‘Was that good?’
Oh yes. This is Aziraphale’s first time preening someone else… not that Crowley could tell.
‘Brilliant,’ Crowley mutters, turning his head and trying to nuzzle at Aziraphale’s hand, still resting on his shoulder. Aziraphale helps him out by putting it to his cheek.
‘Love it,’ Crowley manages to add. ‘You too.’
He can hear the smile in Aziraphale’s voice as the angel pulls him into a hug from behind, coming from under his wings so the feathers aren’t distrubed.
February is over, but here’s another longer prompt fill for one of the remaining @fluffbruary prompts, Day 24′s “soft” (with a cameo appearance of “surprise” as well)! Featuring love, metaphor, and... well, softness.
A Soft Kind of Strength, rated G, 1.6K words
“Y’r soft,” Crowley mumbles one day, drowsily nuzzling into Aziraphale’s well-cushioned lap. “Ssosoft.”
Aziraphale blinks, smiles bemusedly, and ruffles his partner’s hair. “Yes, dear, I’m well aware. Go back to sleep.”
It’s not the first time he’s been told as much, and he knows it to be truth. Aziraphale is undeniably soft, in almost every sense of the word. Soft of body, soft of heart. It is not always meant as a compliment, when others point it out — among the other angels, pointing out his many weaknesses both literal and metaphorical, and his perpetual inadequacy at being a lean, mean fighting machine — it certainly never was a positive trait. But from Crowley, he doesn’t mind hearing it.
With Crowley, Aziraphale is more than happy to be soft. Strength and hardness are overrated, he finds himself thinking more and more often these days. He especially thinks that when it means they can sit together like this, Aziraphale and the most softhearted demon he’s ever met, Crowley dozing off while Aziraphale sips tea and they share in the domestic content of closeness.
“Ssssoft,” Crowley repeats, more insistently, and it seems he hasn’t quite dozed off again after all, fixated now on whatever thought grabbed his half-asleep and half-inebriated brain. He lifts his head, rolling so he’s looking up into Aziraphale’s face. “You. Soft. S’good. Good thing. Y’know that, that, that s’good, right?”
“I… what?” Having consumed his own share of stronger beverages earlier in the evening, it takes Aziraphale a minute to piece the words together and process the question. Apparently, that’s a minute too long, because Crowley abruptly sits up altogether, head almost knocking Aziraphale’s teacup out his hand on the way up.
“Soft is good,” the demon repeats, emphatically and somewhat less incoherently than before. Aziraphale suspects him of having sobered up, at least part of the way.
Mildly taken aback by the force of his partner’s declaration, Aziraphale follows his example. “Thank you?” he tries, cautiously, when his own system is once again mostly free of alcohol. And then, since Crowley doesn’t look satisfied by that answer, he adds, “Did you, er. Did you have something else you wanted to say about it?”
“Nnh.” Crowley looks and sounds unsure of what, exactly, he wanted to say… but determined to say it anyway. “Just, well. It is.”
“Ah,” Aziraphale says wisely. “Well, then. If it helps, I quite agree with you.”
Really, he does. It is no six-thousand-year accident, after all, that Aziraphale is who he is. Whether it be giving a sword away or eating a plate of sushi, his softness is a long-established series of decisions… and even back in those days when he used to wrestle with the fear that being soft was not Good, even when he couldn’t admit the distinction even to himself, that was still never precisely the same thing as believing that it wasn’t good.
And evidently his expression of agreement does actually help, because Crowley nods approvingly, and now he does at least attempt to add a bit more elaboration to his statement. “‘S nice.”
“Isn’t that a four-letter word?” Aziraphale teases.
“You’re an angel, I can call you all the four-letter words I want. Soft has four letters, too.”
“I see. Do you know, I was just thinking about how soft your hair is when I was petting it a moment ago. You and your hair both.”
Crowley makes barely even a token attempt at an affronted glower; if Aziraphale has become much more comfortable embracing his own softness of late, then the same could be said of the demon’s willingness to acknowledge his own four-letter side.
“Anyhow,” Crowley goes on, when it is clear to them both that the attempted glower is an utter failure. “I was saying. You’re soft. And ’s good.”
“Indeed,” Aziraphale concurs patiently.
“Makes you… comfortable. To be with. And safe. Kind.” Crowley grins. “There you go, more four-letter words.”
“Also makes you a good pillow,” Crowley adds, with the exact same amount of gravity.
“I’ll have to take your word for it,” Aziraphale returns gravely. “I daresay you would know better than I.”
“I do know,” Crowley confirms with more than a little smugness. “Anyway. Comfortable, safe, kind, good pillow. And, uh.” He pauses, seemingly searching for any other descriptors that he might have missed in his apparent mission to dissolve Aziraphale under an onslaught of sweetness. “Strong!” he adds.
“I’m sorry?” Aziraphale says before he can help himself. That last was… not expected. Comfortable, certainly. Safe, he hopes. Kind, he tries. Strong, though?
From Here to There and Back Again: a Fluffbruary love letter to my favorite characters and to my favorite fandom
Thanks so much to the @fluffbruary elves who put together the challenge and prompted fic lovers to fluff away 🐱 -- I'm a newbie at ficcing and managed to actually find my way through 28 chapters of making it up as I went along ("it" being From Here to There and Back Again ) -- which was more than a little surreal.
I started by playing around with making Sherlock and John's first encounter come about because Mike Stamford and Mrs. Hudson scheme to have John flat-and-cat-sit, and for the two stubborn gits to meet that way. So it's a John-and-Sherlock-fall-for-each-other tale 💖, but it is also a love letter 💌 from me to the fandom: to all the people who have created such marvelous fan fic and fan art and meta that they've gifted 🎁 to the world, and to all of those who, by reading and commenting, help bring these things to life and to share them far and wide through their enthusiasm and support.
That there were readers who materialized (!!!) and commenters who were so full of good cheer (!!!) made writing this first fic not as terrifying 😰 as I had feared. Cheers 🥂to all my fellow sherlockians!
I totally forgot about day one of fluffbruary, so here’s my work for day two! I apologize for it being so short!! <3
Based on the song ‘Hoshinoaida’ by Centimillimental.
⁂
Hey, from the first time I met you. I’m lost in space. What you see is through a filter…
Of the night sky.
What you’d never expect would be somebody who’s obsessed with fighting and just being an overall obnoxious person, to fall in love with the complete opposite.
Tanjirou runs through the forest, his hand in Inosuke’s. He can’t help but think to himself.
‘It’s so dazzling, to take your hand. I’ll take you to the dark..’
They soon come crashing to the ground, their figures fumbling on top of eachother as the scenery erupts in echoed laughter. Tanjirou sits up, his eyes catching Inosuke’s.
He admired the way his eyes glimmered in the dark. His eyes were as bright as the stars.
Inosuke suddenly grabs his arms and pounces on top of him as he laughs giddily. Tanjirou wraps his arms around him and rolls him over so that he’s on top of him. He leans down and catches his lips in a quick chaste kiss. Inosuke feels stunned for a moment as Tanjirou looks up at him with that look—of admiration.
He can’t handle it. It’s too much. This feeling…
What is this feeling?
It’s like he wants to stay with him forever.
Please, don’t divert!
Let’s go find the ending.
He’s never felt this way, the way Tanjirou’s lips are shaped. He wants to kiss them forever.
Wait there! Through the stars…i’m going to see you right now. To protect your dear pain.
He starts to cry. His eyes burned from this new feeling. Tanjirou crawls off of him and lays down on his back, his hand in Inosuke’s. He points at all of the stars and shows him each constellation, while Inosuke points out each and every bug surrounding them. He points out the noise of the crickets, to the bright illuminated fireflies flying around them.
Tanjirou squeezes his hand lovingly, grabbing Inosuke’s attention as he was in a trance while talking about his favorite wild critter.
Inosuke looks at him, tilting his head. He traces his scar with his eyes, each sharp line and curve entrancing him, but what really put him into a spell would be his eyes. His bright burgundy eyes piercing into his body. He can’t move.
A few seconds later Tanjirou stands up and holds out his hand, waiting for Inosuke to grab it. He does and Tanjirou smiles at him. He starts to walk around, exploring the night sky and all of the wonders in it. He picks up the pace and starts to run down the hill, looking back at Inosuke and giggling. Inosuke smiles back and throws his head back, closing his eyes and feeling the cold breeze through his hair. He suddenly stops running and stares at Tanjirou, his hair’s now a mess, and it’s all in his face.
Tanjirou blushes shyly and shakes his head. He sits down with Inosuke and runs his hands through the blue silky strands. Inosuke is so crazy, but somehow his hair stays perfectly soft. He’ll never know how he does it. How he’s so perfect. His heart can’t handle it. He’s too beautiful. He always wonders to himself how he was so blessed to be able to meet such an amazing person—like him. He closes his eyes and listens to the crickets chirp in the night.
He suddenly feels something hit his lap. Inosuke fell asleep. He looks down at him and strokes his head, feeling each strand in his calloused fingers. He’ll never know how lucky he truly is, will he? Inosuke is perfect in Tanjirou’s eyes.
