Jonesing for some pretty pretty knife kink, with Sherlock wielding, on the author's choice of partner (who isn't Mycroft, though, kthx). Bonus points for removal of clothing via said knife.
Everyone Has One (1/3)
anonymous
December 26 2010, 07:17:19 UTC
A/N: Should I be concerned about staying up until 2am on Christmas night writing knife kink? I probably should be. But I'm not. Merry Christmas, OP
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Everyone Has One (2/3)
anonymous
December 26 2010, 07:19:19 UTC
"Cold, isn't it? Cold, but quite beautiful." Sherlock slowly skates the edge of the blade over John's neck and throat, pausing to again lay it flat, but this time against John's carotid artery
( ... )
Everyone Has One (3/3)
anonymous
December 26 2010, 07:21:17 UTC
Without breaking eye contact, Sherlock wipes the flat of the blade across the tip of John's cock, smearing pre-ejaculate across the steel. He maintains his grip on John's arm as he slides the knife over and down, and then finally, finally, pulls the sharp edge of the blade up the underside, scraping the hard flesh with the barest hint of pressure.
And with that, John is finished. Staring mindlessly into the gray depths of Sherlock’s eyes, he explodes and dissolves, too far gone to be afraid of jerking against the knife in a very bad way, though it finally occurs to him that Sherlock must have managed to ensure that didn’t happen. John leans into Sherlock's grip, breathing heavily, willing himself not to pass out.
"John." Sherlock's voice is still soft, but strong. "John, you can look now. Look."
John blinks, then lowers his gaze to the knife. The blade is dripping with him. He stares at it, fascinated, then finally looks back up at Sherlock.
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...I probably shouldn't want this as much as I do.
Well, so much for that. SECONDED LIKE HELL.
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And with that, John is finished. Staring mindlessly into the gray depths of Sherlock’s eyes, he explodes and dissolves, too far gone to be afraid of jerking against the knife in a very bad way, though it finally occurs to him that Sherlock must have managed to ensure that didn’t happen. John leans into Sherlock's grip, breathing heavily, willing himself not to pass out.
"John." Sherlock's voice is still soft, but strong. "John, you can look now. Look."
John blinks, then lowers his gaze to the knife. The blade is dripping with him. He stares at it, fascinated, then finally looks back up at Sherlock.
"I knew you had one," Sherlock breathes.
* * * * *
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And I don't even like knives. God damnit.
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Thanks for the lovely compliment!
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This fill almost made me forget to BREATHE. HOLY crap. Amazing job. =D
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unf unf unf unf unf hnnnnnnnnnnnnngggghh yesss.
This was brilliant.
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