Relationship: Sherlock Holmes (strawberry!sherlock) x fem!reader
Warnings: none (but it’s pretty soft and sappy)
Summary: Sherlock gets clingy and tries to drag you to bed after a long day because he wants to cuddle and adore you.
All writings belong to me @bakerstreethound (Do NOT repost or translate my works on any other sites. I only publish here and on A03 under the same username)
Word Count: 762
A/N: @frostandflamesfanfic motivated & strongly encouraged me to post this fic here so I did, and it is strawberry!sherlock. Yayy he makes an appearance again! I hope you all will enjoy the re-emergence of the subby boy. He is so soft and fun to write. Please keep in mind that Strawberry!Sherlock encompasses the gentler side of Sherlock no one sees except for those special few close to him. As always, I do my best to remain in character as to maintain the integrity of Benedict’s Sherlock.
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“Missus, please come to bed.”
You tilted your head to the side, trying to pop your sore neck. Your clock glared back at you and still, you couldn’t help but continue typing. It was only four tasks you were working on simultaneously throughout the day and late into the evening, which somehow turned to the evening, because how was it already 11 pm? That couldn’t be right. You stretched your arms this time, hoping something would pop. Your fingers were already beginning to ache, and your lower back twinged again in protest.
“Please, I need you…” his voice came out in a whisper, almost begging, desperately pleading for you to listen, but only when he came closer and rumbled the request deep in your ear. A shiver slowly crept along your spine, sending a familiar cascade of warmth through your body causing your toes to curl as you leaned back into him.
“You make a compelling argument Sherlock” you murmured, wrapping around him after getting out of your chair. He all but melted into your embrace, feeling home at how your fingers run up and down your back.
He buried his face in his neck, murmuring, “thank you, Missus, that feels good,” he all but whimpers as you gently work on a knot on his shoulder.
You grinned fondly, stroking his side with your other hand. “Only for you, sweet boy.”
“Can…can we perhaps go to bed?” he gripped you tighter, fearing for some reason you would deny his request, but once your lips brush against his, he whimpered in relief.
With you, he could let down his walls, where he found peace in your arms. He found this peace for he had been quiet for so long in voicing his feelings for you. He knew there was a point in trying though it took him a while to find a reason. The I love you that fell from his lips was now unpracticed, he knew it was worth it in the end, especially with you in his arms.
You were his savior. Throughout his life he thought he was a failure, caring too much about what others thought of him, until he locked himself away, burying his feeling down. That was until you came along and washed away every misconception he had about the world, all he knew after being with you for three years was how hard you fought for each other, just to be together, learning to care for each other.
Strange was this notion to both of you, you never felt worthy of him, but you knew there was indeed a point in trying for him. You felt like a burden to him sometimes, your whole life even felt like it would amount to nothing.
You wanted to be everything for him, but now with his lips brushing against your own, your hands tangled in his curls, all you could feel was the tugging of his heart towards yours by some unknown force, something telling you both that you were meant to be together in that moment. Forever.
Your brain, however, kept racing, you knew it was inevitable that he would get bored and maybe leave you at the end of it all, you hated how much you overthought every last little thing like if he was going to wake up next to you in the morning. Sherlock felt similarly, although the conversation never came up, you could feel his anxiousness about it at times.
You were tired of caring then until he made you care, worming his way into your head with his intellect, although sometimes his cockiness was off-putting, what was beneath the surface mattered more than you could ever comprehend. The way he held you in his arms, every subtle kiss on the hands, lead to where you were now. You never took it for granted, though the notion of loving oddly made you feel like an outcast regardless, he still helped you through.
You lead him to bed quietly, letting him crawl next to you, your lips kissing the back of his hands, a blush creeping along his cheeks. He kissed you gently once more sighing in contentment, cupping your face and you leaned into his touch, grateful to be near him.
After years of searching, you both found your peace, silently in the dark hours of the night, between the sheets murmuring innocent nothings, kisses trailing along his neck, lips brushing against one each other, drunk on each other's touch and love, into the endless night. Something you would never take for granted.
******
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prompt: "let me show you what happens to little brats who don’t follow the rules"
cw: drabble, dom reader, gender neutral, ruining orgasm, gagged, a little of impact play.
words: 425
1k event
"what am i supposed to do with you sherly?"
sherlock found himself gagged in his favorite chair in his study. completely naked while you paced in front of him, teasing him.
you touched his shoulders down to his nipples. sherlock stirred at your icy touch.
"mhmmm, nnhg" sherlock only let out moans and incongruous "words" as he had a cloth in his mouth.
"what? ahh sorry cutie, i don't understand you."
after playing with his nipples for a while, poking and prodding him a bit to see how they bounced. you got down on your knees in front of the man. looking up at him from below with desire.
"let me show you what happens to little brats who don't follow the rules."
sherlock smiled a little smile even though he was gagged. pervert.
you opened your mouth and got dangerously close to his member, which still hadn't woken up yet.
but it was just a game, instead of taking it in your mouth you slapped his cock, hard.
"uhhhg"
sherlock jumped from the blow you had given him. you started to suck him a little while you masturbated him and kept slapping him from time to time.
you massaged his tip, squeezed his balls and even used your teeth a little when you were sucking him, causing his whole body to become a whimpering, grunting mess.
his cock was now erect and hard before you. you watched it quiver desperate for more.
"what? do you want to cum? ummm, i don't know..."
sherlock was begging you with his eyes, and when you thought you couldn't see him he lowered his hands to his cock. to touch himself.
you slapped his hands and looked at him menacingly.
"don't even think about it, asshole. i'm in charge here, and you won't do what you want."
you stood up and grabbed him by the cheeks, hard and crushing them. as you faced him, you kept touching his cock. watching as he opened his mouth wanting you to kiss him.
"what do you want sherly? talk to me. ahh that's right you can't, ha".
you hit his cheek, over and over again. watching how it turned him on and made him cry out.
you increased the rhythm making him whimper. you lifted his hips to give him better friction. and when you could feel something starting to come out of his cock. you stopped touching him. ruining his orgasm.
"hehe, how ingenuous sherly, but you look better this way, exposed to me and not being able to cum."
| RATED 18+. PWP; porn with a lil bit of plot. dominant fem!reader, toys involved, dirty talking, unprotected sex, creampie
| NOTE: the devil works hard, but i work harder yeah. this one's a request and anon, thank u for ur request, i had absolute fun writing this!!! WARNING; this is smut fic and u know what i always say, if it's not for u, it's okay, if u shouldn't be reading this, then pls stay away cause this is filthy af. actual content after the cut!
Sherlock’s Italian loafers bound up the stairs quickly, every step making a loud sound. It was a Friday evening and he was expecting you’d be home late. But as he reached the landing, his eye caught your shape; standing by the kitchen sink, preparing tea.
“Hey.” your usual cheery voice sounded through the room and instantly, he panicked. At all costs, you shouldn’t see what he had just bought.
He swiftly shrugged off his coat and manically paced in the living room, trying to find a spot where he could hide his recent purchase. You made your way to him to give him his hello kiss. His surprise was greatly ruined just because you were home early. He failed to hide the small bag somewhere else, instead, he gripped it in his hand, behind his back, desperately trying to hide it from you.
“What’s going on?” you asked, instantly curious why he was trying to hide something.
“Nothing.” he curtly replied. Sherlock stooped down and stole a kiss, but you were unfazed. He internally cursed, that trick always worked, except for now.
“What’s that behind your back?” you raised your eyebrow at him. Sherlock, for a moment considered if he should tell you the truth or not. Or if he should distract you further so that you’d forget the mystery package.
But you, oh you, you were dating London’s one and only consulting detective. Of course his inquisitive skills, determination, and persuasion skills have rubbed off on you. Sherlock took in your visual; still wearing your work clothes, hair tied in a hasty plaid, challenging eyes and pouting lips. He was a man of strong defenses, but goddamn, his walls just lower every time he sees you. He was stupidly taken and in love with you, it surprises him sometimes. Finally, he exhaled the breath he was holding and gave into you. After all, that’s what he’s up to tonight, he’s planning to let you take the reins, a little different from your usual nights.
“Cigarettes.” he lied.
“Oh, lying doesn’t suit you Sherlock. Come on tell me what’s in the bag.” you suggested, making your voice a little lower. You leaned closer to him and carefully, you pried off the bag from his hand. Sherlock was easily distracted, his grip loosened when you leaned in so close, his olfactory system malfunctioning for a second.
“Is that a new perfume?” he asked, pulling away. You grinned as you held the bag, waving it in front of him.
“It is. Do you like it?” you playfully asked.
“That’s… is that, Chanel?” he wondered, more to himself. Retrieving the perfume information from his mind palace.
“It is. Chanel Coco Mademoiselle. The one Keira’s endorsing.” you grinned.
“Who?” he said, now curious.
“Keira? Keira Knightley. That actress who plays Anna Karenina in my favorite film.” you grinned, but he looked so lost trying to figure out what rubbish you were saying.
“Never mind that. How about I find out what you just bought?” you giggled and panic started to settle through Sherlock but also he was curious on what your reaction would be.
He bit his lip in anxiety as you retrieved the little box inside the bag. You were buzzing in curiosity too, wondering what would the package be. Sherlock almost never shopped for anything; he thinks it’s such a tedious chore. But here you are, unboxing his recent purchase made on a Friday night.
With the box in your hands, you lightly shook it, trying to guess it. But Sherlock was having none of it anymore, he wanted to watch your reaction to it.
“Just open it, Y/N.” he said and rolled his eyes. You giggled and finally opened the lid of the box. All of a sudden, it felt like the air left your body. Your lips opened in shock and your eyes widened.
It was a ring.
A cock ring.
“Sherlock…” you tried to say something, but the words seem to left you too. Then, something came into your mind, and this idea, in truth, it’s a fact, made your expression go into shock into annoyance in just a split second.
“Please don’t be mad.” he said, and a mix of emotions crossed his face, but he’s already sure you’re seething.
“Oh my god! You!” you exclaimed, waving the thing around. Said thing was colored black and made of silicone. Realizing you were still holding it, you suddenly lowered your arms, your cheeks turning pink.
“Honestly, you shouldn’t leave it lying around if you don’t want anyone to read it.” he countered.
“You read my diary!” you cried out, fifty percent annoyed with his behavior, and fifty percent annoyed with yours.
“What am I supposed to do? And besides, just writing it down on your diary will not help make it happen in reality.” he smirked at you.
“But it’s just a fantasy, Sherlock.” you sighed.
“And what am I here for then? I’m here to make it happen.” he gave you a devilish smirk and that sent you and your underwear on fire.
Really, what’s the use of fighting him? You thought to yourself. He’s right there in front of you, promising to fulfill your fantasy. Said fantasy was to order him around during sex while you lie on your back, with his cock trapped by a cock ring.
“Look, if you don’t want to, it’s fine.” he sighed, stepping closer to you and retrieving the ring from your hand. But you held it firmly on your grasp.
“No, Sherlock.” you heave a sigh, drawing the last syllable of his name to get his attention.
“What?”
“I’m just, I’m just embarrassed, that’s all…” you said, wrapping your hand around his arms, travelling up his biceps.
“Why would you be embarrassed? It’s just me. Honestly, I’m a bit disappointed you don’t tell me these things whilst I, I’m open to you about these things, Y/N.” he said, his deep and smooth baritone ringing through your ears, melting your bones.
“Well, I just thought you wouldn’t, you know…” you sighed and let your head crash against his chest.
“I would. I’d do anything for you. You of all people should know that, Y/N.” his voice rumbled through his chest and you could feel his arms tighten around you, holding you close. You let yourself smile at such a gesture. The thing about Sherlock, he’s a tactile person, but in secret and only in your company. He knows how much you value his hugs, his forehead and temple kisses, even simple hand holding. And he, just the same, he loves it when you shower him with affection in the physical form.
“How are you so good at this?” you laughed.
“I read some tips in the internet.” he chuckled, you pulled away from his embrace and brought him to your level to plant a kiss on his lips.
“God, I love you so much.” you whispered against his lips. He smiled before kissing you one more time.
“I know, and I do too. Now, are we doing this or not?” he said when you broke from the kiss. In his eyes, his light blue ocean eyes, you could see his excitement beaming brightly and you can’t help it, the same energy started to flow through you and internally, you put on your big girl boots on, ready to take over.
“I’ll see you in the bedroom, Holmes.” you grinned at him playfully, leaning in to kiss him one more time but you stepped away just before your lips could touch. You left him there in the middle of the living room, looking flustered with the cock ring in his hand.
As you locked the bathroom door, you leaned against it and took deep breaths. In the end, you smiled to yourself as the fact that your fantasy is going to happen began to sink in. Knowing Sherlock, he’d probably follow what you’ve written as it is, you decided to throw him off and surprise him. It took you about thirty minutes in the bathroom to get yourself prepared.
You marveled at your reflection in the mirror, you looked so far from your submissive and timid self. You looked utterly beautiful and confident, ready to bring your detective lover to his knees. You were wearing black lace crotchless panties, stockings with garter, and your black pumps. You wore Sherlock’s navy-blue shirt, your lips painted red and glossy, you wore your hair down. One last deep breath, the bathroom door clicked open and you finally stepped out.
Sherlock was gazing out the bedroom window, waiting for you. As he read in your diary, you wanted him to wear only his slacks, no shirt, no underwear. Underneath his slacks was his cock, now bound in the cock ring. He tried to calm himself down, taking measured breaths and intentionally slowing down his heart rate. His pants were growing uncomfortably tight, his erection begging to be set free.
If he was going to be frank, he was nervous and excited as hell. When he first read your diary entry, he was surprised and he thought about it deeply. He was willing to explore with you, experience new things in the bedroom. Whenever he had an idea, he pitches it to you and you both try. Usually, the ideas end up to be satisfying on both your ends. One round isn’t enough when Sherlock’s ideas come to life, the two of you manage to tire yourselves until dawn. You were always willing and you were always happy in the end.
And him, being him, he wanted to please you at all costs. That’s always his goal. He never left you hanging, never left you begging for release. It goes both ways, they said, and this was Sherlock’s idea of pleasing you to heaven and back. He secretly hoped that after this, you’d be more vocal on what you want, especially in the bedroom, because he’ll always try, only for you.
You stepped in inside his bedroom, locked the door, and he turned to look at you. The two of you met in the middle, he took you in his arms and kissed your forehead. You hummed in appreciation and ran your hands on his bare biceps.
“I’m all yours.” Three words left his lips and a shiver ran up your spine. You looked up at him; his eyes bright against the soft lighting in the bedroom, his pale and flawless skin almost glowing, his curls mussed up and it looked so soft to touch, his lips ready to kiss you and follow your every word.
Dear diary, I want Sherlock Holmes to fuck me to the moon and back, just because I said so, and I let him do so.
You leaned in to his space, pulling him down to kiss him, your fingers raking through his hair on his neck. The kiss was slow, sensual, the two of you tasting each other and savoring it. Finally, you caught his bottom lip between your teeth and you gently sucked it. His breathing hard, eyes closed, and his grip on your waist tightened. One last kiss, you let him go; you stare at him as you slowly opened the buttons of his shirt, letting it hang on your frame. He caught sight of your bare chest and he swallowed down a moan. You glanced down at his trousers and said, “That looks uncomfortable. You make take it off, Sherlock.” He did what you said, trying hard not to rip off the offending thing.
Propping yourself against the pillows, Sherlock followed you. From the foot of the bed, he crawled towards your body only to halt him by placing your high heeled shoe against his shoulder.
“Turn it on. I want you to touch yourself while you eat me.” you said, your voice gentle. You placed your high heeled clad feet on the bed, opening your legs. He fiddled a bit with the cock ring and seconds later, a low vibrating sound was heard with the harsh breaths.
Sherlock looked at you before he lowered his face on your pussy. He gave your lips one long lick, his tongue flat against your folds. You moaned and gripped the sheets. You could feel his hand snake up to your thighs, wanting to hold you but you pried his grip off you.
“No touching. I only want your lips and I want you to touch yourself.” you groaned when he gently trapped your clitoris into his lips. His hand started to pump his cock slowly, he could feel himself grow on his every stroke. The vibration and the fitted grip of the cock ring made him so hard.
As he ate you, your hands ran through his hair, guiding him to the spot where you need most attention. Soon, you were coming against his lips and tongue.
“Fuck, Sherlock—” you orgasmed when Sherlock teased your opening with the tip of his tongue. Your panty-clad cunt was now wet of his saliva and your wetness. You writhed on the bed, your legs trembling as you felt your insides clench. Sherlock continued to touch himself as he watched you come down from your high. He too, was breathing hard and was struggling not to come. Just the look of you; red lips and flushed skin, hair spread out against the white pillow, legs trembling, and you were wearing one of his favorite shirts.
“Come here, kiss me.” you said and he did so. Kissing you sweetly.
When you broke apart from the kiss, you whispered against his lips, the words pouring out from your lips to his, “Fuck me, Sherlock. Fuck me so hard, I’ll forget own my name.” In return, he smiled briefly and kissed you. As his tongue danced with yours, he carefully entered you. He slowly impaled you with long and thick cock. The vibration made by the cock ring intensified the sensation, especially when Sherlock buried himself inside you, balls-deep, the vibrating cock ring stimulating your perineum.
Sherlock kept his thrusts deep and long, making sure he hit that spot every time. In no time, your muscles spasmed, signaling your orgasm, but Sherlock beat you to it. Knowing him, you could feel his cock twitch and you could read it in his focused face. His grip on your hips was so tight, you could feel his hand burning through your skin.
“I want you to come for me, Sherlock. Come on, I want your cum inside me.” You whispered in his ear. He sloppily thrust, quick and hard thrusts. You raked your hands down his back, finally settling your grip on his ass.
He could feel you everywhere, your scent, your touch and your breathy sighs. The pornographic moans and the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin. But this look, this certain look of you; beautiful and confident, and just enjoying yourself finally pushed him to his fall.
“Fuck, I’m coming.” he groaned and you internally squeezed his cock, finally making him come. You could feel his cum shoot spurts inside you, with his cock still inside you, you felt so full, you could feel his cum drip down your thighs. His orgasm was so intense, for a moment he let his body plop against yours, not bothering if he was heavy. You carded your fingers through his hair, helping him relax.
With the cock ring still vibrating, he could feel himself become oversensitive, so he reached down and turned it off. Now back from his intense orgasm, Sherlock propped himself up and looked at you boyishly. You felt giddy and you let yourself giggle.
“Hi.” he said, his baritone voice rumbling with a hint of smile.
“Hello yourself. How was that?” you asked and traced his collarbone with your fingertips.
“Good. What’s your name?” he teased you, now his fingers started to trace your stomach and you could guess where it’s heading. You never answered that question, he knew the answer anyway and for sure, this time, you’ll forget it completely.
You watched as his fingers disappear through your folds. Then he began to massage your walls, picking up what he left. With his fingers, he brought you to another orgasm, and this time, he pushed out the evidence of your lovemaking; his cum leaking out of you. He traced your lips with that finger and you tasted yourself and him.
“What’s your lover’s name?” he asked, settling himself above you.
“Sherlock Holmes.” you said, your voice breathy. He stole a kiss and smiled.
“You know, for your next entry, you should write; ‘Dear diary, my lover, Sherlock Holmes, the greatest and the only consulting detective, fucked me so good I forgot my own name, but never his name cause I screamed it all night long.’” he chuckled and you giggled. He’s so goofy sometimes and that made your heart skip a beat and your head spin. Never in a million years you’ll forget his name, simply because you love him.
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Relationship: Strawberry!Sherlock Holmes x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+ SMUT, cockwarming, soft sherlock, gentle praises, tooth rotting fluff involved (lots more than smut probs)
Summary: You grow desperate for Sherlock’s presence and when he’s not in bed with you the early hours of the morning you start to worry, but when you wake the second time, you are pleased to find him safe and sound in your arms. You then decide to take matters into your own hands and show/tell him how much he means to you.
All writings belong to me @bakerstreethound (Do NOT claim, repost, copy or translate my works to other sites. I only publish here and on A03 under the same username)
Word Count: 1.2k
A/N: Going forward I am making these prompts a mix of fluff/kinktober, but they will still be rated 18+ due to the nature of the kinks. I hope you guys enjoy some soft Sherlock. He is addicting in so many ways. Please keep in mind that Strawberry!Sherlock encompasses the gentler side of Sherlock no one sees except for those special few close to him. As always, I do my best to remain in character as to maintain the integrity of Benedict’s Sherlock. This wasn’t beta read so there may be errors.
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“Sherlock…” You murmur sleepily, reaching out for him and his warmth, only to be met with cold emptiness. You sigh in exasperation, wiggling out of the cocoon of warmth so carefully crafted hours before. The clock blared at you, its face reading 1 am. Your stomach flopped, turning into knots.
Where was Sherlock?
You were used to this but surely, he would be back at a reasonable hour, ruffling his fingers through your hair, before pulling you in for a kiss and promptly burying his face in your neck, wrapping around you to cling until you drift. A yawn overtakes you and you ignore your twinging heart, clinging back to your body pillow once more, which offers you some solace. You still crave for his touch, to wrap him in your arms, to bury your face in his hair, savoring his scent and his warmth. These thoughts guide your eyes to droop, falling back into the familiar rhythm of sleep.
Your arms reach out again, and the soft material of your body pillow is now solid, more real as you nuzzle against it, inhaling sharply, warmth spreading through your body making you tingle. He was back, safe in your arms. Even in your sleepy stupor, you can’t help but smile, ruffling his curls with your free hand, the other still wrapped around his waist. You sigh in relief, groaning softly against his ear kissing along his neck. He squirms against you a bit, mumbling incoherently, something about Anderson no doubt.
Then you pull him closer, stroking his sides, loving the way he responds to you, the way he leans into the palm of your hand, nuzzling it in the way he does his muscle memory finely tuned to your touch. You savor this, this gift he gives you of seeing him at peace utterly vulnerable and content with the world. With you near he can sleep, feeling more refreshed than he had in weeks prior. Your hands run lower, and you gently kiss his neck, leaving a few marks as you do so and he gasps, his eyes fluttering open, adjusting to the soft lighting of the rising sun. He grumbles huffing, reorienting himself to the closer position, to you doting all over him before bringing him in for a gentle kiss, the brush of your lips against his tempting, drawing him further under your spell.
“Wha-What are you doing?” His cheek quivers as if in challenge, but partly in confusion as he puts two and two together.
“I’ve missed you and want to make it up to you, show you how much I adore you, my boy.”
He swallows, eyes widening with each word you speak, his grip on your waist tighter.
“I don’t have work tomorrow, either it’s okay I promise. I want to reward my hardworking boy. Is that too much to ask?”
When his lips part, exhaling shakily and he kisses you with fervor and underlying desperation, you know, oh you know he’s given in, ready to accept anything you freely offer him. For you already gave your body and mind to him, things he never considered precious before, but that was before you and John entered his life. Now, he can’t comprehend life without either of you in it.
Softly, you tug of his shirt, admiring his alabaster skin in the light highlighting his beautiful chest, those gorgeous cheekbones you’d willingly cut your fingers on any way, illuminated perfectly in the shadows contrasting against the lighting in the room. He looks close to a greek god in the moment, his curls ruffled, falling against his brow, bedding tangled, all in disarray.
Fuck he looked so irresistible so ready for you.
His hand cups your face as you trail your index finger along his jaw, enjoying feeling of the blossoming stubble as your thumb brushes along his lips. A wet droplet falls from your eye no matter how hard you try to stop it. “I’m so lucky to have you, to call you mine.”
His lips find yours with practiced ease, bringing you in for a kiss and you taste a thousand memories, particularly the time where he first kisses you in the rain, so elated and overcome with the outcome of a particularly baffling case. You’d held the umbrella, fumbling it like a fool when he bent down to kiss you, enveloping you in the Belstaff to keep you safe and warm. You thought it was a joke at first, another in his never-ending line of experiments, but when he pulled away from your lips gasping softly, a tint of pink flushed on his cheeks, you knew that couldn’t be the case.
“Please…” his voice anchors you back to the present and your fingers tangle in his hair tugging his neck back, exposing the soft hollow flesh of his neck, which your lips attach with fervor. You dare to grind against him searching for the friction you had long denied yourself, unwilling to admit the sight of him this way does unspeakable things to your body, making you want to claim him over just to feel him inside you making you whole again.
So, your fingers tug his curls harder, eliciting more gasps and whimpers from his pretty face at both touches from you. With his head thrown back further, your lips kiss and suck, navigating the soft spots on his neck, nipping before gently kissing over the marks properly.
A soft whimper falls from his lips once more as you stroke his straining length. “Will you let me warm it for you, Sherlock? Think of it as other experiment. You can do that for me, right? I want to feel you again, it’s been too long.”
“Yes,” The broken answer falls as you finish tugging off his sweatpants and underwear, stroking him, making him desperate for more, his hips desperately thrusting into your hand.
“It’s okay I’ve got you, that’s right.” You continue with your ministrations, already growing wet at the sight of him. When you finally settle down on him savoring the stretch quenching your ache, he’s panting slightly, eyes glimmering and blown wide in awe blown wide in awe and ecstasy, glancing at where your bodies are joined. His already fucked out look awakens something feral in you, yet you rein it in, wrapping your arms around his neck still straddling and laying on top of him, savoring how he fills you up in all the right places.
“You feel so good, Sherlock.”
“S-so do you, hell,” he swears, drawing in a shallow breath, tempted beyond all measure to move and feel you make you fall apart for him. “C-can I?”
You stroke his cheek lovingly, pressing a kiss there. “Not yet my boy, perhaps in a couple of hours, but for now, I want to hold you and feel you.”
He nods, running a hand through his curls as he sighs in defeat, carefully maneuvering the both of you so you are on your sides spooning each other, gazing into each other's eyes. You pull him in for another slow passionate kiss, eager for the impending hours and oh, what a time that will be.
A Sherlock In Pink Chapter 6 Posted! Words: 23,983 Chapters: 6/?
John Watson is invalided home after his time in Afghanistan, a broken man with no real prospects, and a dwindling bank account. Former colleague Mike Stamford introduces him to the most unusual young man John has ever met, a tea shop owner that looks more like a runway model than anything else, but with a mind like a steel trap. An AU meeting, where John comes back into his own, and Sherlock learns some of the most valuable of life lessons.
Daddy Captain John Watson, Younger Twink Shy Sherlock, Dom John Watson, Sub Sherlock Holmes, Virgin Sherlock, Love Confessions, Lingerie, BAMF!John, Sherlock Can Be Good, Military Kink, Victor Trevor - Freeform, Light Angst?, Guaranteed happy ending, Miscommunication, AU, Jealous John, Pining Sherlock, Mutual Pining
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 8/?
Fandom: Sherlock (TV)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Mycroft Holmes/John Watson, Mycroft Holmes/Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Characters: Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft Holmes, John Watson, Greg Lestrade, Greg Lestrade's Children, Annabelle Lestrade, Victor Trevor
Additional Tags: Dom/sub, Dom John Watson, Sub Sherlock Holmes, Coming In Pants, Kissing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Past Drug Use, Sub Mycroft, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Cock Cages, Riding Crops, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, upcoming incest, Kneeling, Cock Warming, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Slut, Anal Fingering, holmescest, Nipple Suckling, Bottom Mycroft, Bottom Sherlock Holmes, Top John, Cock Slapping, Prostate Massage, Cock Sucking, Forced Orgasm, Dry Orgasm, Hurt/Comfort, daddy Lestrade, Angst, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Past Forced Prostitution, Humiliation, Creampie, CBT, Orgasm Denial, humping, Group Sex, Voyeurism
Summary:
Sherlock can't deal with some aspects of his last case. Mycroft recommends a special service to him. Sherlock is going to dom John Watson for help
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As you can clearly see English isn't my mother tongue, so bear with me, please.
