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So I wrote some Sabriel smut…

Hear my Prayers – Sometimes Sam calls for Gabriel when the nights get too lonely.

teaser under the cut

Sam sank to his knees and whispered the archangel’s name. Gabriel was there when he opened his eyes, looking down at the Winchester with heat in his eyes reflecting Sam’s own. Even on his knees Sam was tall, but Gabriel seemed to loom over him as if arching wings. Mine.

Gabriel reached out and brushed Sam’s hair back before trailing his hand down his jaw, drawing his head forward. Sam quickly released his trousers, nudging his cock through his underwear. “I know what you want,” said Gabriel quietly. “Why you called me.” He freed his half-hard cock.

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I got bit by a helluva plot bunny today

From the Rubble (chapter 1) – After being caught in a terrorist bombing, Greg and Mycroft’s relationship is exposed and they must face the consequences.

teaser below the cut

Greg smiled as he watched Mycroft. This was one of their favorite restaurants. It was discreet, quiet, and in the heart of the city they loved. They had a seat away from windows, shielded from most of the restaurant by a waiter’s station. They’d both been busy the last few weeks; this was their first night out in a while. Seeing Mycroft relax was well worth putting on a tie.

Glancing up, Mycroft caught his gaze and gave a rare smile in return. Under the table, Greg squeezed his hand. The waiter walked towards them with an appetizer. In the space of a heartbeat it all went to hell.

He saw the flash a second before the glass shattered. Without thinking he was across the table and trying to shield Mycroft when the building shuddered. There was a tremendous groan and he clung to his lover as the floor gave way and they were plunged into darkness.

Greg felt warmth underneath him. “Mycroft?”

There was a muffled moan and Greg shifted. They were in some kind of tight pocket but it was pitch black. “I think I broke your fall,” muttered Mycroft.

“I’m a lousy boyfriend,” said Greg.

Mycroft tensed at the word but for once didn’t correct him. “I do believe my arm is broken.”

“Shit.” Greg felt carefully around to figure out what they had to work with. ”We’ll get out of here. Don’t panic.” The pocket of space was just barely bigger than them and the ceiling prevented him from doing much more than raise his head. Faintly he could hear the muted sounds of emergency vehicles. "Help is already on the way.”

“I am not panicking, Gregory. I would appreciate if you’d do the same.”

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The fic i just posted is my 175th fic. What the hell am I doing with myself?

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A little Mystrade PWP for your evening:

It’s Terrible to Tango Alone – Greg attends the same fancy party as Mycroft. Of course they can’t be seen together there, but after is another story.

teaser below the cut

Greg sipped his overpriced champagne and resisted the urge to adjust his collar. He hated fancy soirées like this, but sometimes, as a Detective inspector, it was impossible to avoid. The tedium of the event was not relieved by the presence of one Mycroft Holmes either. They’d barely spoken of course, Mycroft moving gracefully in these high social circles. Greg had carefully stuck with the handful of other Yarders. Sally was his nominal date, and she looked lovely, but they both knew it was only for appearances.

“Think we’ve been here long enough?” asked Sally, appearing at his elbow.

“Yeah,” said Greg, hoping he hadn’t been caught staring.

Sally took his arm as they made their way to the door. He’d been careful not to drink too much. “You do look lovely,” he said as he got the car door for her.

Sally gave him a smile. “Save the flattery for your boyfriend.”

“Not my boyfriend.” Greg shut her door and went around to the drivers side.

“Sure, sure. Of course he’d deny that too.” Sally adjusted her long skirt.

“We’re not having this conversation.” Greg started the car.

“Just be careful.” Sally’s voice was affectionate.

“Been doing this a bit longer than you,” he reminded her, watching the road. “You be careful too.”

“Oh, things are done between Anderson and I. Been for a while. Taking care of me.” Her voice was light.

“Good. You’ll find the right one eventually.”

“Like you, Sir?” Sally said with just a hint of teasing.

“Still Not discussing my personal life. Sorry.” He pulled up to a stoplight and his phone chirped. Checking the message, he found a hotel and a room number. With a small smile  he quickly pocketed it again as the light turned green.

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A bunnylock fic for your Easter:

Easter Dinner – When Sherlock invited John to Easter Dinner, this was the last thing he expected

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John sighed as he pulled on his coat. “Easter Dinner, with your family, really?”

“You are constantly attempting to get me to eat, John. I would think you would be eager for the endeavor.” Sherlock glanced at the clock, uncharacteristically nervous.

“Yes, but. I haven’t even met your family and you’re bringing me ‘round for Easter Dinner.”

“They’ll be pleased enough I’m bringing someone. Come along.” Sherlock bounded down the stairs for the cab.

John was surprised at just how normal the house was. It was set a bit back from its neighbors and the hedges out front were high, but otherwise it was like any other house.

Sherlock led the way up the walk. Before he could knock the door opened. This had to be Mummy. She looked at Sherlock, then past him to John. “A guest? Today?”

“John has been my flatmate for over a year. It’s high time I brought him around,” said Sherlock.

She twitched her nose, but stepped back. “Not your fault, John, dear. Please come in.”

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