John passes for normal so easily. He looks right and decent. If Sherlock had any decency in him, he would leave John alone. He would excise this part of him like a cancer; parcel it away to somewhere where it wouldn’t taint anything, anymore. He would cut out the tumor of desire before it metastasized, before his need ate up every cell of his being… He looks at John the way a spark must look at dry, crisp kindling, while the kindling begs to be set aflame ~ ♡
John let his head fall back against the wall, the hand that was still wrapped around Sherlock’s, squeezing desperately. He didn’t know what to do with himself. He was everywhere all at once, coming apart under Sherlock’s mouth. He was thankful for the wall at his back because his legs were as soft as butter beneath him, trembling and weak. ♡
Instead, he leaned forward and kissed Sherlock’s downturned mouth ~ ♡
After the detective nearly burns his lovely locks off leaning too close to the bunsen burner, John buys Sherlock headbands and hair clips to keep his curls pulled back. Sherlock gets pickier with the selection, wanting bows and beading and honeycomb patterns. John, of course, obliges. Now, Sherlock practices safe science by pinning back his luxurious locks with the most fashionable of all hair accessories.
“… Do you dance? The Waltz, specifically.”
“I’ve never, I mean, I haven’t—”
Commissioned by a Mysterious Individual, who prefers to remain anonymous, for a wonderful writer Fiorinda Chancellor over at AO3 :)
Based on her story “Second Intention”, which you guys can all read here:
His hands slid up the thighs on either side of him, and Sherlock made another awful noise when John tugged his shirt out of his trousers and ran his lips over bare skin. ♡
Commissioned by mildredandbobbin as a surprise present for her friend Tsylvestris, to thank for her friendship, support and platinum level beta reading! :)
Based on her story “The Thing Is” , which you all can read here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/499959/chapters/877019
"Get yourself nearly killed once more, Sherlock, and I swear I’ll finish the job with my own two hands…"
"You say such sweet things, John. I never knew you cared~"
Commission for Alipeeps ! :)
Daddy looks so sad. Even through his smile, Daddy is sad. It’s not something Hamish has been able to do before, read past the smile and tell what they’re really thinking, because that’s Daddy’s job, and Papa’s, but it’s different now, it’s Daddy. Carefully, slowly, Hamish steps once more towards his father, and stands in front of him. Sherlock’s head reaches to about Hamish’s breastbone. Like how Papa’s does when Daddy is hugging him. And it’s sad, Hamish realises suddenly, that Daddy is so tall, because it means he can never have the same kind of hugs that he can give out, out to him and to Papa and to Mrs Hudson. Daddy has never known what it feels like to be so utterly safe, so enclosed in someone else’s arms, has never been completely engulfed in a warm safe haven of love, and all because he is taller than the people he hugs. But now Daddy is at a lower level than Hamish. So Hamish reaches out and wraps his arms around Sherlock’s bony shoulders and hugs him, because he wants to show Daddy what it’s like, wants to make him feel safe and warm and loved.
Commissioned by the lovely martainducreff for her dear friend Catherine (firstruleofthediogenesclub). It is a scene from a roleplay they have had going on, where tiny Hamish comforts his dying father, who’s broken down crying~