#fluffiness!

Drabble: ACCEPTINGFandom: Marvel : ACCEPTING

AN: FLUFFINESS! <3 

Fandom: MarvelCharacters: Deadpool Words: 450Warning: Fluffy <3 and Deadpool, so probably weirdness.

The small furball that was in his hands, nose to his masked nose, sneezed. He calmly put it down, before his red-gloved hand wiped the snot away. The furball went under his arm as he looked at the collar. No tags. That made him frown.

Walking onward, he looked for anyone that was looking around like they lost something. The fluffball made a yipping noise, so he set it down, and then watched it run around in circles before doing its business.

Placing his hands over his mouth, he screamed out. “Did someone lose a dog!?” When people looked at him, but no one approach, he shrugged his shoulders, before picking the puppy up again, to walk away.

Sure enough, someone was looking for the little fluffball. He was too well taken care of, and the collar was showing that he wasn’t just a stray.

It was cute, in an annoying way… annoying as it was now chewing on his fingers.

Wiggling again, he picked it up to be nose to nose with him. “Where is your owner?” He asked the dog licked his masked covered nose. “No, I’m not your owner.” It yipped wagging its tail happily. “That doesn’t answer me.”

The voices in the back of his head said to just look a couple of scenes ahead to find out. He was sure they find it’s owner, but that means that he would have to do something that might freak the puppy out. A frown crossed his lips, though mask hid it pretty well.

Debating himself if he should do it, and risk scaring the puppy or leave the puppy on the ground and hope it doesn’t get more lost. Eventually, while still debating, a small girl squeal in happiness.

Looking around till his eyes landed on the girl about seven years old running to them. “My baby!~” She screamed.

He jumped backward, temporary forgetting about the puppy in his arms. “I am no one’s baby.” He commented then the dog yipped. “Oh, you meant this little guy.” He held it out to the little girl who hugged the puppy, that was now in her arms.

“Thank you, mister!” She cheered, placing the puppy down. Patting her legs, the puppy followed her up to an apartment complex not far from them.

Thank you very much for this prompt! Writing this really brightened my mood :D I hope you like it! 

He woke up late in the afternoon sprawled over the king size bed fully clothed and sleepy. He rubbed his eyes and fumbled up to a sitting position, the consulting detectives hair was a dreadful mess and he looked rather like a child woken up from a long nap. He stared at the wall, recalling where he was, as if the flowery duvet didn’t give it away.

His senses began to sharpen once more and his thoughts shot like fireworks as they always did. He was at his bolthole; Molly Hooper’s flat to be precise.

Sherlock Holmes chuckled quietly at the sound coming from beyond the closed door. Her favourite song was echoing through the house as well as her rather off key voice (especially at the chorus).  Her jolly steps could be heard prancing about as she probably cleaned; she always listened to music while she tidied up.

He took care to stand up as quietly as he could, creeping to the door he opened it slowly and peeked out. She didn’t see him that was clear, as she was still singing without shame. She jumped about gaily as she wiped a table or shelf here or there. Every now and then she would twist her hips in turn to the music or do a clumsy pirouette as she put something in its rightful place.

Sherlock couldn’t help but grin fondly as she fluffed her pillows and failed to do a spin, sending her almost tumbling over the couch. She laughed at her own clumsiness and her mood became even more spirited.

He covered his mouth as he tried not to burst out laughing. He tried to pull himself together and come back to his usual calm exterior, but in vain, no one can help being happy in the face of happy, and most certainly not when the happy could neither dance nor sing.

Suddenly she spotted him. She blushed and tried to properly find an excuse for her behaviour. He had been sleeping so soundly when she left him; she had thought him too deep asleep for anything to wake him. He hadn’t slept for days.

She opened her mouth to explain, but was faced with the fact that she had no good excuse and closed it again quickly.

Sherlock burst into a fit of giggles. His eyes were welling with tears and he had to support himself on the door handle as to not fall to the floor, he could hardly breath in between his laughing.

Molly broke out into a wide smile at the strange sight.

“Well you definitely need more sleep.”

“No its just-“ He couldn’t even finish a sentence. After a good while of hysterical laughter he finally managed to pull himself together enough to speak.

“You were singing.”

“Yes I was.”

She smiled, she was determined to banish her blushing, she was done feeling like a pushover and had decided to remain shamelessly happy.

“Problem?” She cocked her head and grinned broadly.

“None, none at all.”

“You should laugh more often, you look better when you do. It’s done you better than sleep.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. And you should sing more often.”

“Because I’m good?”

“Because it makes me happy.” The words slipped from his mouth without second thought and all of a sudden he found himself stepping closer to her.

“It’s endearing.” His voice lowered, almost as if faint.

She looked up at him puzzled, not entirely sure what was happening, nor was he. His eyes wandered to her smiling lips and he knew exactly what his body was telling him to do, and he obeyed.

He leaned down and brushed gently against her lips, tasting her mouth for a second before pulling back.  Her smile was gone and her expression was something he couldn’t read.

“I’m sorry that was….ehm….” He tried. She raised a brow questioningly.

“I have a case! Yes, I have a case I must attend to at once. Thank you for the bed…..ehm and. Yes.”