Dreams to Reality
Title: Dreams to Reality
Characters: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~750
Warnings: sleepsex, possible mild dub con
Summary: John is sleeping and Sherlock decides he wants sex. John wants to keep sleeping. That doesn't stop Sherlock.
This was written for a prompt on the BBC kink meme. De-anoning to post it in my journal.
---
John is having a very nice dream for once. It involves Sherlock (then again, what in his life doesn't involve the detective?) and a case that's giving even Sherlock a bit of trouble for once. They're in the middle of a wild run through London when soft pinpricks of pleasure begin to pierce through his dream. A moan escapes his mouth and dream-Sherlock turns to look at him. Blazing blue-green-silver fills his vision.
He blinks. No, this is not a dream. It's actually Sherlock leaning over him. When Sherlock realizes he's awake, he leans down and kisses John, gentle and sweet and drifting. John's eyes are only half open by the end of it, but the pleasure is still building.
"Sh'lock, what're you doin?" he mumbles, realizing that there are fingers carressing his nipples and stroking his cock into hardness. All he wants is to fall back asleep but apparently that's not going to be an option.
"I need your help, John," Sherlock says. "I've been trying to think of a solution all night and I can't." He sounds immensely frustrated and it translates into a firmer grip on John's cock. John whimpers. "I need you to fuck me so that my mind can take a break."
"What time's it?" John tries to turn his head to look at the clock, but that seems like too much effort and he ends up just sort of twitching. He's exhausted because he and Sherlock have been going full tilt for several days. He closes his eyes and sighs. "Alright, go ahead, but try to avoid from waking me up again, okay?"
Sherlock grins, taking it as a challenge. He's already prepared himself, so he straddles John and guides John's cock to his entrance. A small moan escapes as he slowly slides himself down until his arse is resting against John's hips. It feels so good just to be filled. He can already feel his mind slowing down as pleasure takes precedence. John lets out a sigh and his eyelids flicker as he drifts back to into a light doze.
He starts slow, using his thigh muscles to slide his body up and down. He didn't prepare himself as much as John usually does and the burn is prominent, makes him gasp and whine, but he keeps going. It's so good, but before long his muscles are trembling, unused to the strain of the position. Normally John helps when they do this, using his strong hands to support Sherlock's thighs and help keep Sherlock going. He sinks back down, thighs refusing to support him anymore, and whimpers when the deep slide sets off a burst of flame behind his eyes.
"John, oh fuck," he chokes out, leaning forward on his arms. That helps. Now his thigh muscles aren't making all of the effort. It also allows John's cock to stride his prostate with every thrust. Sherlock keens, dropping his head and moving faster, fucking himself. He wants to stroke himself, but he needs his arms to support his weight, so he leans forward even more until he can grind his cock into John's stomach.
"John. John," he moans, squirming. His breath is becoming shorter. He almost wishes that John would wake up and help, but this has its own brand of ohgodfuckyes. Beneath him, John groans his name and goes stiff and Sherlock feels a sudden burst of liquid warmth inside. He shoves his face into John's stomach to free a hand, thrusts back hard and strokes his cock at the same time. It's enough to set off his own orgasm.
It takes a few minutes for his trembling limbs to calm down. John, amazingly, has slept through it all, orgasm included. Sherlock looks at him softly and kisses him, and even in his sleep, John responds.
Sherlock is groping around for something to clean them both up when it hits him. Of course! The husband had a secret family and his second wife killed the first! He grabs the nearest thing, half-heartedly swipes at both of them, and launches himself out of the room at a dead run to text Lestrade.
In the morning, John will wake up to find seed smeared across his stomach and on one of his favorite jumpers, and he will wonder why, out of all the people in the world, he had to fall in love with Sherlock Holmes. But then he'll go downstairs and Sherlock will bounce over to him, thighs streaked with more come, hair wildly mussed, wearing nothing but another of John's jumpers, all excited about the new case he just solved, and he'll remember.
Of course, the clean-up sex in the shower helps.
Characters: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~750
Warnings: sleepsex, possible mild dub con
Summary: John is sleeping and Sherlock decides he wants sex. John wants to keep sleeping. That doesn't stop Sherlock.
This was written for a prompt on the BBC kink meme. De-anoning to post it in my journal.
---
John is having a very nice dream for once. It involves Sherlock (then again, what in his life doesn't involve the detective?) and a case that's giving even Sherlock a bit of trouble for once. They're in the middle of a wild run through London when soft pinpricks of pleasure begin to pierce through his dream. A moan escapes his mouth and dream-Sherlock turns to look at him. Blazing blue-green-silver fills his vision.
He blinks. No, this is not a dream. It's actually Sherlock leaning over him. When Sherlock realizes he's awake, he leans down and kisses John, gentle and sweet and drifting. John's eyes are only half open by the end of it, but the pleasure is still building.
"Sh'lock, what're you doin?" he mumbles, realizing that there are fingers carressing his nipples and stroking his cock into hardness. All he wants is to fall back asleep but apparently that's not going to be an option.
"I need your help, John," Sherlock says. "I've been trying to think of a solution all night and I can't." He sounds immensely frustrated and it translates into a firmer grip on John's cock. John whimpers. "I need you to fuck me so that my mind can take a break."
"What time's it?" John tries to turn his head to look at the clock, but that seems like too much effort and he ends up just sort of twitching. He's exhausted because he and Sherlock have been going full tilt for several days. He closes his eyes and sighs. "Alright, go ahead, but try to avoid from waking me up again, okay?"
Sherlock grins, taking it as a challenge. He's already prepared himself, so he straddles John and guides John's cock to his entrance. A small moan escapes as he slowly slides himself down until his arse is resting against John's hips. It feels so good just to be filled. He can already feel his mind slowing down as pleasure takes precedence. John lets out a sigh and his eyelids flicker as he drifts back to into a light doze.
He starts slow, using his thigh muscles to slide his body up and down. He didn't prepare himself as much as John usually does and the burn is prominent, makes him gasp and whine, but he keeps going. It's so good, but before long his muscles are trembling, unused to the strain of the position. Normally John helps when they do this, using his strong hands to support Sherlock's thighs and help keep Sherlock going. He sinks back down, thighs refusing to support him anymore, and whimpers when the deep slide sets off a burst of flame behind his eyes.
"John, oh fuck," he chokes out, leaning forward on his arms. That helps. Now his thigh muscles aren't making all of the effort. It also allows John's cock to stride his prostate with every thrust. Sherlock keens, dropping his head and moving faster, fucking himself. He wants to stroke himself, but he needs his arms to support his weight, so he leans forward even more until he can grind his cock into John's stomach.
"John. John," he moans, squirming. His breath is becoming shorter. He almost wishes that John would wake up and help, but this has its own brand of ohgodfuckyes. Beneath him, John groans his name and goes stiff and Sherlock feels a sudden burst of liquid warmth inside. He shoves his face into John's stomach to free a hand, thrusts back hard and strokes his cock at the same time. It's enough to set off his own orgasm.
It takes a few minutes for his trembling limbs to calm down. John, amazingly, has slept through it all, orgasm included. Sherlock looks at him softly and kisses him, and even in his sleep, John responds.
Sherlock is groping around for something to clean them both up when it hits him. Of course! The husband had a secret family and his second wife killed the first! He grabs the nearest thing, half-heartedly swipes at both of them, and launches himself out of the room at a dead run to text Lestrade.
In the morning, John will wake up to find seed smeared across his stomach and on one of his favorite jumpers, and he will wonder why, out of all the people in the world, he had to fall in love with Sherlock Holmes. But then he'll go downstairs and Sherlock will bounce over to him, thighs streaked with more come, hair wildly mussed, wearing nothing but another of John's jumpers, all excited about the new case he just solved, and he'll remember.
Of course, the clean-up sex in the shower helps.