(Untitled)

[need_a_pen]

MIDFUCK MEME

♋Respond with your character(s) and put their name and canon in the subject bar. (You can make blank comments with < ! >. Remove the spaces).
♋ Respond to other character(s) with your own as if you are right in the middle of having sex. How did it happen? Who started it? Who is topping who? All that matters is they are in the middle of

Comments

Sherlock Holmes ~ Ritchie!verse ~ Slash or Irene!

[re_opened]

7- because helping in choosing clothes for your best friends wedding makes you want to eat him .

[your_boswell]

(ooc; sounds good, yes?~ god, we will make this so fucking hot. )

ofc :3

[re_opened]

[Sherlock presses his hand over Watson's back closer to his ass, pushing him as he gives a slight thrust forward like so - maximum pleasure. His breath is warm, heady over his lips.] Ah, yes...

[ooc: lol! bb, you collecting me? XD;]

It's because i love you

[your_boswell]

Again. Yet another place holmes had managed to fuck him in. He really shouldn't do this, what with his wedding in a few weeks. But watson couldn't care less because he's getting the complete sherlock holmes treatment. With his formal dressware hanging loosely off his shoulders, john lets out a stifled moan against his companions shoulder, trying not to let their dresser come back in the room to check if everything was alright. That horror he could do without thank you very much. Breathing heavily against the others skin, the doctor gasped out, "good lord..."

lol i haven't done much :3

[re_opened]

You know.. [conversationally, as if he weren't balls-deep and rutting within him.] ...I do believe this cravet is a ghastly colour on you. Discard it. [his lips crush against his, emphasising the order with a sharp clash of teeth, biting and nibbling his lip as he breathed out huskily.] Mmh.

[your_boswell]

Leisurely slanting his head to the side to concentrate solely on just the pleasure his companion was giving him, john reopened his eyes as he blinked in surprise. Less talking, more thrusting, the doctor wanted to say...but he was also one for these little off-handed moments, as if they were doing nothing more than speaking intelligently by the hearth or reading a book. John managed, "why are you- oh, nevermind. It's BLACK, holmes. a solid color, nearly everyone wears it." resting the back of his head against the wall he was currently using as his back's support, he let out a soft sigh but then the other decidedly started to loveabuse his lips and with a slight snarl, watson put all his weight onto the detective, pushing the man deeper into himself as he let out an unashamed moan.

[re_opened]

Yes, but it is not a funeral. [ironic, as it felt like his own. If he were some pie-eyed, dramatic little fool. He tells himself it doesn't matter on a daily, sometimes hourly basis. Convinces himself it is working, makes a difference - that Watson leaving would eventually become a fact rather than a stab of pain within his person each time he thinks it. No - it's still not so.]

-- I see you are not in the mood to.. ahn. Debate this. [he groans, breaths hitching as he draws out of him once more - thrusts harder as he demands. Really, Watson, they had to discuss it - was that not why he dragged him in here?]

[your_boswell]

That let's a smile cross the doctors face, a bit co-mingling with the pleasure, but it was a beautiful smile nontheless. He whispers with a moan as he takes a hard grasp of the others head of hair, " but the waistcoat..." he lets his chest raise and fall before saying with an outake of panting breath, "i remember trying it on, what do you think..-haaahn, of it?" and rocking his hips with holmes' thrusts, john let out, "ah ...."

[re_opened]

[humming soft against the pleasant sting he recieved from the tugs, Sherlock slowed his thrusts in retaliation, feeling Watson speak, muffled to his shoulder. He drew back to smile, a predatory, easy look with dark eyes as he nipped his parted lips sharply -] What do I think? I think perhaps I should let us finish before answering - it will work more to my favour.

[your_boswell]

Except, john wouldn't let the other move to stop. He wanted to hear the other speak with difficulty, a wavering of his voice even, as he made the other go further deep inside him as he greedily kissed holmes, letting himself pause a moment to snarl against holmes' own lips before rutting against the detective and okay, he pulled his lovers hair even harder because he loved holmes' reaction to it and wanted more.

The doctor breathed out, "you're the one who brought up the conversation, ol cock."

and then a daring smile spread across his face. As if challenging the other. Because he knew the detective liked a good challenge. "let us see who can last the longest while we keep up our conversation."

[re_opened]

[he made it difficult - very much so. Watson perhaps knew it, but for Sherlock to keep this semblance of control and sternness devil-may-care to his tone? Was no easy feat.

He affected him by a mere look, regardless of his touch - the only one who ever could. More effectively than Irene Adler, so much more. But he would never speak it when it was (to him) so glaringly obvious as that -]

Ah... a challenge? [he smirks.] Very well, man.. do your utmost worst. Please. [he groans softly, bare at his lips as he grinds against him.] As to the colour, it is suitable - grey is quite adequate. Not too somber to remind of my impending widowhood. [he chuckles - because it is true. All jokes aside, he would lose Watson that day.]

[your_boswell]

Oh god, he could already feel himself nearly ready, but he wouldn't allow holmes the pleasure of winning this round. He just mustn't! To be more effective, the doctor suggested to the other,

"tell me a position you never could do with ms. Adler... Please, tell me.."

because obviously, the way they were right now was typical. Satisfying, but what had his friend always wanted to do but couldn't with irene? That was a question watson wanted answers for. That, and perhaps john would allow them both to partake in to raise the stakes.

John shakes his head. Widowhood, why must the other speak like this again? Stretching his neck to the heavens, watson let out a long indulged moan as holmes hit that spot yet again, nearly making him cum. But he fought back the need. Holmes would lose.

"you can hardly call yourself that. You and i, we're not even married.-!" bloody hell, if the other continued effectively hitting that pleasure spot, then he wasn't going to make it. " ...Though most times it feels like it..."

[re_opened]

[he pauses to graze teeth along his jaw slowly.. silence him with shudders. Why did he choose to mention her, another faithless one who left when it suited? Yes, he's aware they were quite different - her and Watson - but the ends were the same.

Frustrated, at the question as well as the man's refusal to come for him, Sherlock gave a long, slow drag of his hips into him. Coaxing him now rather than forcing... his eyes shut slowly. Yes, so they were.. and he would have kept him, if only he wouldn't allude to society.] John.

[your_boswell]

John panted with brows creased, trying harder not to lose and underneath all that he wished the norms of society weren't so.. Unattractive. To have an open mind was very attractive to the doctor and that's exactly what had brought him to be with holmes in the first place. He wanted to know this man no matter who would tell him otherwise. Sure, if anybody knew of their union then they both would be hanged.. But john would forever involve himself with the detective. Whatever it takes.

His whole body shudders at the contact but it nearly hits him to cum so bloody much, but immediately he has to abruptly tighten his arm upon the detectives neck as well as tighten legs from around holmes' waist and grasp- more like coincidentally slap, the others arse to brace himself.

Taking a long moment to collect himself, john answered panting, "sherlock..." allowing himself to indulge the every feeling of his mans length as if it were embracing him.

[re_opened]

Ah, stubborn man - [he accuses, through clenched teeth. His expression dark, and creased almost as if in pain - but he wasn't. No, nothing but tremendous pleasure... and all due to this, to him, to them. He grips slowly under his hitched thighs to caress smoothly down, push him against his cock as he ground him into the wall fiercely -] Come. I can feel you need it -

[your_boswell]

"takes one to know one- !" his expression looks that of someone who was going to cry, with eyes tightly shut, watson's voice waivers, with lips parted to let out a drawn moan. He can't even see the others face because he's besides himself, lost in their sex that was even better than the pleasurable high one could ever get from any poisons, john was sure, the detective could ever get satisfaction in.

The force of his back hitting against the wall in progress with his companions thrusts, the very delicate touches to his thighs coax him, breaking him surely. John's own cock hitting holmes stomach isn't helping him much in remaining calm, but with a slight tear that had rolled down his cheek as he returned his grasp to sherlock's head of hair, using it as the only thing he could have to brace himself, the doctor answered barely able to breath now, "i'm close, so close!" and then he begins to mumble incoherantly 'no' so many times it sounds like he's saying it in french.