Ummm… Aunt Irene breastfeeding a tiny Sherlock???? >.<

Sadie: I need more prompts like this tbh

“Oh, pet,” the woman cooed down at the overgrown infant in her lap. “What’s made you so fussy today, hm.”

Irene tried the bottle again, but the moment it touched Sherlock’s lips he whinged and turned his head away, sending droplets of milk spraying across his cheek.

“You don’t want it?” She gently wiped them away with the pad of her thumb. “You cried, I changed you…then you cried again, so I put you down with all of your toys…you weren’t happy with that either, so I’ve got you in my lap with a nice, warm bottle, and you’re still not happy. What is Auntie doing wrong, dearest?”

Sherlock whimpered and pouted up at her, his eyes glassy with unshed tears.

Irene smiled. “Yes, yes, I know, such a sad little baby you are,” she tutted, tapping her finger against his lips. “But I still don’t know what you’re after, pet.”

Irene didn’t expect him to answer. She hadn’t gotten more than a squeak or a squawk out of him all day, and while it had been a welcome change at first, it did present her with a new sort of challenge.

She also didn’t expect him to latch onto her fingertip, and start suckling.

Her eyes widened, and her lips parted into a small ‘o’ of surprise. “Oh,” she gasped. “So that’s what you’re after.”

Irene took one of the small pillows beside her on the couch and placed it behind his head, letting him lie back while she undid the buttons along the front of her blouse.

Sherlock watched with a wide-eyed, infantine gaze as she opened her top and reached into the cup of her bra, pushing it down to expose her breast. Then, she used her arm  to replace the pillow and cradled the baby detective’s head, drawing him to her.

She gave another small gasp as she felt him latch on, and felt the pull of his tongue against her nipple. “Sorry, sweetheart…Auntie wasn’t expecting this part of the service. You won’t be getting anything this time.”

Sherlock only closed his eyes and nuzzled her breast with his nose, giving a quiet hum of satisfaction.

Irene stroked the hollow of his cheek with her finger, watching the motion of his lips and jaw.

“…I suppose that could change, with enough time and patience.”