FaithlessAngel
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There is a rule. Everyone knows. Do not touch John Watson unless completely necessary. Do not touch John Watson for more than 5 seconds. But no one told the new guy, and no one knows how Sherlock will react.
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John discovers he is in love with Sherlock, Sherlock attempts to make him admit it
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John Watson is hired to kill Sherlock Holmes. (Pre Reichenbach and a little bit after)
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"Oh no," Ryan said before he finally felt some give. He threw his other arm up and squeezed his eyes shut in anticipation.
Except the bench didn’t immediately fall on top of him. He’d felt it slide down with the hand still on it, but then it stopped. Ryan became aware of a strong heat source behind him and popped one eye open to see an arm outstretched above. A soft tie brushed across the back of his ear and across to his cheek.
The face of a bearded, white man peered down at him. They blinked, "you alright down there?"
Ryan gaped and removed his supporting arm on instinct, only to realise the man could apparently take the entire weight of the bench with one hand.
"I’ll take that as a yes," the man said, before "allow me," and he pushed the bench back into a safe position.
Coughing, Ryan said, "something, uh, something tells me, you didn’t help me out of the kindness of your own heart."
**
Living in the middle of the desert was a great idea, until a space ship crash landed in Ryan's front yard and a new alien creature entered his life, along with a tall, dark, and handsome FBI agent.
Nope, it all still seemed like a good idea.
Series
- Part 1 of Fantasy Shyan
Bookmarked by FaithlessAngel
17 Sep 2020
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Anthony Crowley, London’s most provocative horror writer, is married to his craft. Rumor has it that he’d eloped with Baron Lighbringer’s son before an unforeseen tragedy tore them apart. After relocating to the Oxfordshire countryside he becomes captivated with the man who reawakens his ability to love again: Pastor Gabriel’s neglected husband Aziraphale.
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“Are you an angel sent here to set me to rights?” the writer sighed. “I'd see you soar above all others. I would cradle you more dearly than the ghost I've borne.” Crowley’s features shifted, moving from an expression of wonder to unrepressed desire. He stroked down the blonde’s cheek with the back of his hand. “Hello Aziraphale,” the name was a prayer on his lips.
Saudade (Portuguese): the love and longing that remains after someone is gone
Bookmarked by FaithlessAngel
24 Nov 2019
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An experiment in eye contact.
- Language:
- English
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- 4,698
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- 1/1
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Bookmarked by FaithlessAngel
18 Jul 2018