daelys replied to your post “So, I saw that you asked for tentacles for your birthday…”
Link to the original story? :O
daelys replied to your post “So, I saw that you asked for tentacles for your birthday…”
Link to the original story? :O
You ask for tentacles, you receive tentacles—at least on your birthday! I know that you’ve read Aliens and Army Doctors, so I cheated and used my John and Sherlock for this. You’re welcome to post this (I certainly won’t argue against free publicity), but if you do, please warn for slight spoilers for my fic? <3
Also, thanks for inadvertently prompting this; it turned out to be just the thing I needed to get back into the writing groove. :D
Happy birthday! –Comma-Kaze
PS: Written in the space of a couple of hours, and my beta doesn’t even know it exists, so please pardon any mistakes. :)
[Set after the end of AaAD; may or may not be compliant with the actual epilogue]
John was going to start getting Pavlovian erections at the mere sight of chocolate if this kept up, but he couldn’t really bring himself to mind too much as long as Sherlock continued touching him like that. “F-fuck, Sherlock,” he gasped, straining against the firm grip around his wrists. At least I’m probably burning off whatever weight I would be gaining from eating so much chocolate, he managed to think wryly as Sherlock pressed against his mouth again.
That particular instance had started…well, not innocently, but less dramatically than their current positions. The scent of melted chocolate that had drifted down the stairwell warned John when he walked in that Sherlock had plans for the evening, and it had been with a grin that John had entered the flat and closed the sound-proofed door behind him. The heavy curtains, hangovers from the era of protests directly under their front window, had already been pulled closed, and the sitting room was lit by a combination of lamps and the light from Sherlock’s laptop. A quick glance into the kitchen showed one tentacle gently stirring a pot of chocolate, and John’s lips twitched up into a tiny grin. He savoured the warm rise of arousal in his belly as he stepped over to the alien perched on the sofa.
“Welcome back, John. Good day at work?” Sherlock greeted him, tilting his head back for a closed-lip kiss.
John hummed into the kiss and grinned down at him. “Better evening ahead of me, it looks like,” he replied. “I take it you finished the burglary case?”
“Mm, yes, and started looking into something else while I was at it,” Sherlock replied, tilting the screen of his laptop up to John. “Something you mentioned when we first met, about the Japanese.”
Eyes already lifting to see the screen, John froze. Oh. Oh, god. Sure enough, Sherlock had been looking at tentacle porn. I should have known that I would regret that comment about alien tentacles and bondage. “Um.”
It said something that the grin Sherlock gave him was predatory and showed no signs of blurring, despite John’s obvious shock and surprise. “Want to give it a go?” Sherlock purred, twisting around to kneel on the cushions in front of John.
A small part of John, the part that had objected to every step of their interspecies relationship as being improper, balked. It babbled in a panicked pitch that John was far from the kind of pervert who got off on Japanese tentacle porn, but John had ample practice with silencing that voice. And, honestly, it’s not like we haven’t got up to things that are, objectively, even more questionable; if it weren’t for the cultural values associated with this, I probably wouldn’t even be hesitating. All the while, Sherlock watched him and waited for his answer.
What the hell, why not? John finally decided. It’ll certainly be interesting, either way. Mind made up, he wrapped a hand around the nape of Sherlock’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss, deliberately focussing on his agreement and lust so that the alien would pick up on it through the telepathic contact. His reply was a grin and a burst of playful alien lust.
The laptop went onto the table, and Sherlock towed John away from the sofa and into their room. As they moved, Sherlock licked into John’s mouth, spreading the taste of liquid chocolate across John’s lips and tongue. The taste, already associated with sex in John’s mind after the last several months, had John tugging gently at the curls at the crown of Sherlock’s head. Sherlock hummed again, and John’s chest swelled with warmth at the rush of emotion through their connection.
Sherlock pulled back, leaving John already panting slightly, and pulled at John’s jumper. “Clothes.” A second later, John faintlyheard Sherlock’s mental voice say, Skin, almost mistakable for one of his own thoughts. They quickly disrobed him, Sherlock similarly dropping the disguise of human clothing, and Sherlock fell into John, plastering himself against him for maximum skin contact.
The warmth building in John’s chest spiked with a tinge of alien lust, followed by an echo of his own lust rebounding through Sherlock, and John moaned, clutching Sherlock’s shoulders as he dropped his mouth to the dip between throat and shoulder. He sucked and lapped at the layer of chocolate there, gently rubbing his half-hard erection against Sherlock’s hip. A burst of John’s lust bounced between them, and then John found himself spun through the air and deposited against a wall, wrists pinned beside his head.
“Couldn’t make it to the bed?” he teased in between gasps, still a little out of breath from the kissing.
Sherlock grinned in reply and pressed another chocolate kiss to John’s lips. A wave of playful amusement tempered the bite of mutual arousal that was building in John’s belly, and Sherlock dragged John’s wrists higher up the wall until John was stretched almost on tiptoe. The breath punched out of John at a jolt of lust when Sherlock pinned his wrists together and formed a new tentacle from his midsection to trace down John’s chest.
The greedy hunger that John was sure that he was emoting to the alien couldn’t have meant anything but pleasure at the way things were going, but Sherlock still leaned in to murmur in John’s ear, “Alright?” The oil-plastic texture of his skin slid over the shell of John’s ear in the process, eliciting a violent shiver that skittered down John’s spine.
He nodded, turning his head to nip at Sherlock’s neck in return, and deliberately focussed on how good it all felt, bombarding Sherlock with a burst of lust, excitement, and love. It earned him a waver in Sherlock’s carefully-held form and a renewed press of skin against his own. He grinned, an expression that fell into surprise when Sherlock caught him around his ankles, too.
The alien lifted him against the wall, suspending him and exposing him, and John had to gasp around the spike in arousal—both his own andSherlock’s. He’d just got his breath back when Sherlock slid against him, bringing their mouths together, and said, “Now, let’s begin.”
Oh, fuck, was the only coherent thought John could manage as Sherlock devolved into a mass of twisting limbs. He’d dropped the human skin tone and reverted to his natural gray, and the entire situation felt like it was straight out of a pornographic fantasy. Perhaps not one of mine, but a fantasy all the sam—FUCK. John knocked his head back against the wall and gasped helplessly as Sherlock extended several tentacles to caress his groin. John moaned, feeling his pleasure reflected back at him through Sherlock, and his hips bucked into the teasing touches, entirely beyond his control.
Two more limbs trailed up John’s abdomen and chest, drawing his gaze down again, and John nearly had to close his eyes against the image of Sherlock drawing his limbs up closer to and around John, almost as if he were about to engulf him. The thought involuntarily brought their first meeting to mind, and Sherlock sent him a flicker of amusement in response. Then the tendrils had reached John’s shoulders, and while one continued up to trace over John’s cheek, the other slid over his scar and dropped back down to suck at his nipple with the miniature vacuum trick.
Combined with a suddenly firm stroke down his shaft and a tug at his balls, the sensation overwhelmed him, and he tensed in Sherlock’s grip, struggling to remain coherent despite the rush of physical pleasure and, a second later, emotional projection. Wait, he struggled to project back. Give me a minute. Enough of it got through that Sherlock paused, just supporting him, until John had got his pounding heart back under some semblance of control.
Okay? The word appeared in his mind, accompanied by concern, and John smiled down at the alien. “Fine,” he replied. “It was just a bit much, too fast. Keep going?”
Sherlock pulled him away from the wall and wrapped several tentacles around John’s waist in a reassuring hug before twitching the tentacle still engulfing John’s erection. The tentacle playing with John’s balls moved to stroke up and down the sensitive insides of John’s thighs, and John strained in Sherlock’s hold as his arousal kicked up another notch. That’s the stuff, he thought, and mouthed at the tentacle tracing his lips when it got close enough.
The chocolate layer slid over his tongue again, and John moaned, sucking at the tendril. Sherlock sent him a mental image of the tentacle in John’s mouth with a questioning tinge, and John shot back an immediate, enthusiastic Yes! The tendril pressed between John’s lips in coordination with a squeezing stroke down the length of his erection, and John writhed in Sherlock’s hold, unable to mute his reaction. The chocolate seeping out of Sherlock’s tentacle was thick on his tongue, and when Sherlock devoted a few more tentacles to playing the length of John’s body, John let the tentacle fall out of his mouth for a few seconds as he threw his head back.
“F-fuck, Sherlock,” he gasped, wrists tugging against the firm hold that had kept them above his head, and Sherlock brought the tendril back around to follow John’s mouth. Between the cloying chocolate on his tongue, the sliding pressure over his genitals that grew increasingly rapid, and the constant stimulation over his legs, ribs, back and arms, John knew that he wasn’t going to last much longer. Around him, Sherlock’s tendrils had started to clutch at him more firmly, and even the ones pinning him in place twisted and shifted restlessly against his skin. Heartbeat pounding, John groaned against the lust and love rocketing back and forth through their connection, building with each rebound. At last, Sherlock pulled him down to touch the ground again and surged over him to crush their skin together as the arousal finally reached its peak.
Hng! John gasped around the still-present tentacle, and he jerked in Sherlock’s grip as he came. The alien pulled him close, and the end of John’s orgasm was eclipsed as their combined pleasure wiped his mind blank for several seconds. He came back to himself, gasping through his now-empty mouth, to find himself cradled in Sherlock’s comforting bulk. They lay there for several minutes while John’s vitals returned to baseline and batted love and happiness back and forth through the connection as it eased down to a less-intense state. Eventually, Sherlock shifted back into his human form and drew John down for a soft kiss.
“Thoughts?” John asked, once they had pulled apart. He smiled down at the alien.
“I think I like you like that,” Sherlock replied. “It’s easier to keep you safe when you can’t run straight into trouble.” He grinned and pecked John’s lips.
“Unfair,” John complained, but he kissed Sherlock back all the same. Mm, definitely not going to be able to eat chocolate in public pretty soon.
He couldn’t find it in himself to be bothered.
PA says: Ahhhhhhhhhhh I actually got tentacles! <3 Thank you, commakaze! This is so wonderful! And sweet! It’s been too long since I read this story. nautilicious, look!
otterondeck said: Happy birthday PA! I hope it's every bit as fabulous as you deserve <3
It’s so fabulous there’ve been pink and orange sprinkles involved.
thehappyfangirl replied to your post “HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I hope you get all your heart desires!”
IT’S YOUR BIRDIE? HIPPO BIRDIE TWO EWES!
This confused me terribly for a moment. I was like, “Wait, but I didn’t say anything about my birdie?” ^_^
She’s very wet, btw, and we had a disagreement because she wanted to take a bath on my shoulder (a bath in this case involved throwing water from the faucet over her head) and I insisted that if she was going to take a bath she was going to stay on my forearm.
havingbeenbreathedout said: HAPPY BIRTHDAY! Glad to hear it's going well, which is 100% what you deserve. :-D
Awwww, thank you, Breathed! <3
I hope your day is going well too!
natka-natka-natka said: Happy Birthday:)
msdistress said: Hey, Pretty, happy birthday! Hope you have an AWESOME day! :)
Thank you! It has been. ^_^
And now I am all damp, because my parrots just took a bath. And when the parrots take a bath, everything takes a bath.
Anonymous said: Is Odalisk going to have a happy/good ending? I really love your writing, and I it seems so interesting, but I really can't stand reading non-con and basically, every tag you wrote just made me go Nope nope nope noope in a opposite direction
If you can’t do non-con, anon, then you are probably better off avoiding this one. It will get better, but it will get worse first. There’s going to continue to be non-con (more often coercive than physically forced), dub-con, and also other forms of violence both domestic and not throughout the story.
idratherbereading said: HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I hope you get all your heart desires!
Good food, a long weekend to decompress from work, and lots of love from friends. Everything else is just gravy, really.
ant2210 said: Happy Birthday! Enjoy your day. (And after that please go an work on Odalisque. I'm waiting.)
I haven’t worked on it since last Saturday. I’ve been so fried from work.
But this weekend has been restorative! Perhaps now I can find the energy to engage with Moriarty and make him tell me WTF he’s thinking.