The Games We Play
Warnings: Omegaverse (role play), possessive language, d/s elements, smut. So much smut.
Genre: Humour/Porn.
Rated: NC-17 - explicit.
Pairing: John/Sherlock (established relationship).
Beta: The lovely
gozadreams Summary: John and Sherlock role-play the Omegaverse. Alpha!John/Omega!Sherlock, sort of.
John pressed his nose into the crook of Sherlock's neck, inhaling the scent of him. He was more than ready. Sherlock was quivering with need, arousal bringing a blush to his cheeks. John growled, sucking and licking on a spot just above Sherlock's collarbone, leaving a stark red mark behind. Mine, he thought savagely. He pulled Sherlock's shirt open, buttons ripping off in his impatience. He gripped Sherlock's bare waist, bringing their mouths together, bodies pressed intimately against one another. They were both hard.
John maneuvered them into the bedroom, all the while without breaking off the kiss. Sherlock clung desperately to John, rubbing himself shamelessly against him. John sucked Sherlock's tongue into his mouth, and then grazed his teeth on Sherlock's full lower lip. He wanted to mark every centimeter of Sherlock's body, let everyone know who his Alpha was, cover him with his scent and bite marks.
"John," Sherlock moaned against John's mouth. "I need you. Please, please."
John pushed them both onto the bed. He knew that's where they would stay for the next several days. Until Sherlock's heat abated, he would do little else beside bugger Sherlock's sweet arse into the next millennium. He was looking forward to it. Every cell in his body screamed now, now, now. He needed to get in him, deep inside of him and never let him go.
He tumbled on top of Sherlock, pinning him under his weight. Leaning back, he unbuttoned Sherlock's trousers, laying kisses and small nips just above his navel, deliberately ignoring the hard on that sprung free to lie pressed throbbing against Sherlock's belly. He slapped Sherlock's hand away when he reached to touch himself.
"John…" Sherlock sighed in despair.
"Lift up," John ordered gruffly.
Sherlock obeyed, lifting his bum in the air. John pulled down the trousers past Sherlock's impressive bottom, pausing only to quickly squeeze one round cheek in his hand before slipping the trousers down and off his legs. He wasn't wearing anything underneath them. John squeezed Sherlock's arse again before pushing his hips back down on the bed. He hurriedly pulled off his own trousers, and climbed on top of his needy Omega. His and his alone.
"Spread your legs," John ordered, and sank down to press his mouth against Sherlock's lips for one quick, savage kiss. "That's right. Are you ready to be my filthy little harlot?" he asked, voice thick with lust and something else, something primal and basic.
"Always," Sherlock replied breathlessly, looking up at John with wide eyes. John kissed him again, saliva smearing over two pairs of lips.
He knelt between Sherlock's spread legs, and shoved his knees up to his chest. He looked unbelievable like that, hot and wanton, dressed only in his unbuttoned purple shirt, rump planted firmly in John's lap, flushed and spread wide open. John slipped two fingers into Sherlock's body, delighting in the way the slick passage clamped down on his fingers.
"Mmmm… You're so wet." John moaned.
Sherlock face twitched then, like he wasn't sure what it was supposed to be doing. He pulled his lips in, trying to hide his smile and when that failed he clamped a hand over his mouth, masking his amused snort with a cough. That did very little to conceal his mirth and he shook with suppressed laughter, his body vibrating around John's fingers, which were tucked so nicely inside his thoroughly pre-lubed and prepared hole.
John pouted.
"Apologies," Sherlock said in a weak voice, wiping tears from the corner of his eyes. "Please, continue."
"If you're not taking this seriously…" John started.
"I am! Please," Sherlock stopped, rearranged his expression, and then schooled his voice back into the trembling, needy tone from before. "Please, John, take me. I can't wait anymore."
John sighed, cock twitching. He twisted his fingers inside Sherlock's tight arse, making Sherlock jump and moan in arousal.
"What do you want?" John asked, pulling out his fingers only to push them back slowly into Sherlock's greedy little arse. He began to repeat the movements, faster then, aided by the frantic rocking of Sherlock's hips.
"Oh," Sherlock breathed. "You, John, please. I want your big Alpha cock in me."
"You want me to breed you?" John murmured as he fingerfucked the man under him into oblivion. "You want me to put a baby in you, Sherlock?"
Sherlock actually did burst into laughter this time. He covered his face with both hands, and when that didn't help he picked up one of the pillows and stuffed his head under it, trying to stifle his amusement.
"Sherlock!" John said in exasperation. "Look, I've got my fingers up your arse, how can you be laughing?"
Sherlock stopped laughing after a few moments, taking in long, shuddering breaths. John reached for the pillow, lifting it from Sherlock's head.
"I'm sorry, John," He said in a shaky voice, which was part arousal, part laughter. "It's just; it's a little ridiculous, isn't it?"
"You said you wanted to try it," John said, pulling out his fingers. Sherlock made a disappointed little sound.
"I'm not laughing at you," Sherlock insisted. "I'm not."
"I know it's a little unusual-"
"John, since when have we ever been even the slightest bit orthodox?" Sherlock interrupted him. He sighed, and pulled himself up, settling fully in John's lap, and wrapped his long limbs around him. He rested his forehead against John's, spine curving. "Come on, we did one of mine last time." He said, breath tickling John's skin.
"Right," John said, running his hands down Sherlock's back. "But this is stupid, if you're not into it…"
Sherlock chuckled. He pulled John's hand to his crotch, and wrapped it around his own achingly hard cock. "Does it feel like I'm not enjoying myself?" He murmured.
John squeezed his hand ever so slightly, causing Sherlock to melt further against him. "Okay, but still, if you're not comfortable with it-"
"John," Sherlock said in slight irritation, cutting him off again. "I never said I didn't like it." He shifted slightly in John's lap, silently urging John to move. He exhaled loudly, sounding long suffering. John kept his hand wrapped around Sherlock's dick, but didn't indulge his impatience.
"Need I remind you that I was the one who suggested we try it in the first place?" Sherlock asked.
"Only because you borrowed, sorry, confiscated my laptop without asking," John said. "I still can't believe you read my stories."
"The Internet is a wondrous thing," Sherlock breathed, he wriggled a little when John brushed his finger in a feather-light trail along a prominent vein. "John, please."
John grinned. "You know, for such a fantastic actor, you're kind of rubbish at role-play." Sherlock made an indignant little noise at that. That turned into a sigh when John continued to fondle his cock.
"Not role-playing-" Sherlock gasped, "-now."
"I like it when you're this desperate," John murmured. "Want to try again?"
"Oh yes." Sherlock replied, eyelashes fluttering.
"Are you ready to be my little bitch in heat?" John growled in his ear.
"Fuck, yes. John." Sherlock pulled away, lying back on the bed, but kept his arse firmly planted in John's lap, long legs straddling John's waist. John rubbed Sherlock's cock, reveling in the sight of him so spread open and eager.
"Any other Alpha would have fucked you in half by now." John said in a low voice, resuming character. "You're lucky I have such self-control."
He fondled his own long forgotten erection, swallowing a sigh. He removed his hand from Sherlock's cock, who made a desperate little noise in protest. He ran his hand on Sherlock's milky white thigh, squeezing his flesh firmly, the muscle twitching under his hand.
"Mmmm, turn around. Let me see that pretty arse." Sherlock obeyed immediately, pulling himself up to his hands and knees.
"Very nice," John said, flicking a buttock playfully. "Very nice, indeed; I'm the luckiest man in the world, to find such a prime Omega like you. You know they can smell you from ten clicks away," John said thickly as he stroked his hand along Sherlock's graceful spine, making him shiver under his touch.
"I'll fight them off you if I have to," He continued, grabbing Sherlock by the hips. He mounted him in one swift move. "You belong to me. Don't you, Sherlock?"
"Yes, yes," Sherlock gasped out, rocking back against John. He reached to touch himself, but once again, John pushed his hand away.
"Oh no," John said. "You're going to come with just my dick in your arse."
"John, please." Sherlock gasped out, his hands twisting in the sheets. He pushed back in time with John, moaning obscenely loudly in a steady rhythm with each of John's thrusts. John leaned forward to grab Sherlock by the shoulders, pulling him back against his prick, movements turned wild and frantic.
"That's it," he panted. "Take it, just like that. Fuck you so good." He squeezed Sherlock's shoulders. "Do you feel my knot coming? How badly do you want it?"
"Yes, all of it, John!" Sherlock cried out, voice shaky and hitched. John paused, rearranged their positions in a way he knew would make his dick brush up against a spot inside Sherlock that would make him see stars.
"Oh, God," Sherlock moaned loudly. The sheets were a rumpled mess under his rough treatment, one corner coming loose from the mattress. He bent down to rest his head on the bed, his pert arse raised high. The sound of skin slapping against skin dominated the room as John continued to thoroughly fuck him into oblivion.
Sherlock cried out, sound muffled by the way he pressed his face into the mattress, coming on the sheets. John continued to pump his arse; he didn't need much longer before he too came long and hard inside Sherlock, filling him with his thick semen.
"Bloody hell," He panted, collapsing onto Sherlock's own heaving form. He waited a few moments before pulling out, tumbling over to finally rest on his back beside Sherlock. He pressed his mouth to Sherlock's tousled head.
"Verdict?" He asked into Sherlock's hair.
"I'd have your babies, John." Sherlock replied after a moment, and was answered by John's belly deep chuckle.
Still lying on his front, Sherlock wriggled and began to peel off the unbuttoned shirt from his sweaty skin, groaning at the effort. He rose to rest on his elbow, staring at the garment in his hand mournfully.
"Did you have to rip the buttons off?" He asked, raising his eyes to stare at John in accusation. John mumbled something into Sherlock's hair.
"What was that?"
"…I got caught in the moment." John replied, somewhat abashed. Sherlock snorted at that, and rolled over onto his back. He lay there thoughtful for a few moments.
"Do you think Mrs. Hudson will agree to stitch my shirt's buttons back on?" Sherlock wondered.
The End!