sherlockbbc_fic | Prompting Part XXXII

Skip to Main Content

Entry tags:

Prompting Part XXXII

We are currently in a prompt freeze. Please wait until it is over to post any more prompts.

GUIDELINES

Anon posting is not required, but most definitely allowed. If you think you recognise an anon, keep it to yourself and don’t out them. IP tracking is off, and will remain that way.
Multiple fills are encouraged, and all kinds of fills are accepted! Fic, art, vids, cosplay, interpretive dance — whatever. Go wild! :D
Don’t reprompt until TWO parts after the last posting of the prompt.
RPF (real person fic, i.e. fic involving the actors themselves) is not supported at this meme.
Concrit is welcome, but kinkshaming, hijacking, and flaming are not tolerated.

THE FILLED PROMPTS POST
When you fill a prompt, please use the appropriate Filled Prompts Post to archive your fill (there are instructions on the actual post).

If the part you wanted isn't up yet, just wait and one of the archivists will get to it, but please, once it is up, make sure you post your fills there according to the guidelines. DO NOT skip out on doing this because it seems like too much effort. If you want your fill to make it to the Delicious archive, that’s the way to do it.

Do not be afraid to ask questions about how it works if you are confused! The mods will be happy to explain.

WARNINGS/OFFENSIVE WORDING IN PROMPTS
Please consider warning for prompts that may trigger people (and also for fills, because some people read in flat view) and phrasing prompts in a manner that strives to be respectful.

Things which you might want to consider warning for include: Rape/Non-Con, Death, Suicidal Thoughts, Self-Harm, Underage Relationships, among others.

That being said, this is a kink meme. As such, there will be prompts that could offend you in a number of different ways. Not every prompt will have a trigger warning, and not every prompt will rub you the right way. If you have an issue with a specific prompt, feel free to bring it up in a discussion that takes place off the meme. However, flaming will not be tolerated regardless of origin.

You are highly encouraged to scroll past any prompt that you dislike.

Remember: be civil, be friendly, but don’t be shy!

THINGS THAT MAKE BROWSING THE MEME EASIER FOR EVERYONE
Please nest your fills. Doing so will make it easier for archivists to save your fills to the Delicious archive. Using subject lines will also help people reading the meme in flatview keep track of what’s happening. Finally, titling your fills (even if it’s something silly) will be helpful to those tracking a lot of prompts or scrolling through the meme.

PROMPT FREEZES
Depending on the rate of activity, there may or may not be a prompt freeze when a part reaches 2000 and 4500 comments. However, there will be one when it reaches 7000. After the 7000 comments freeze, a new part will be posted, and all prompting should happen on the new part.

CONTACTING MODS
Your mods for this meme are

ellie_hell,

anonspock and

anonbach. If you have any questions, concerns, comments about anything at all on the meme feel free to send a PM or contact us via the Page-A-Mod post.

MEME LINKS
Delicious Archive - Guide to the Delicious Archive
Filled Prompts Posts: Parts 1-23 - Parts 24+ - Spoiler Free
The Glorious FAQ - Page-A-Mod

Flat View of This Page - Newest Page in Flatview - Newest Page of the Meme

Love Post - Chatter Post - Searching Post
Concrit Post - Story Announcement Post - Orphan Post
Spoiler Free Prompt Post - Overflow Post

Links to previous prompting parts

OTHER LINKS AND AFFILIATES

sherlock_rant: A place to rant about or discuss anything with few to no restrictions.

sherlock_rpf: This is a kinkmeme for RPF about the show.

sherlockcrit: A multi-fandom betaing/concrit community, with a focus on BBC Sherlock.

sherlockbbc: A community dedicated to the BBC adaptation of Sherlock Holmes.
Useful resources for Sherlock and LiveJournal.
Sherlock screencaps.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I just need more stories like this, http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/10038.html?thread=50977334#t50977334 where John is with more than one person and they share him

He loved John, of course. He always would. But, he loved Mycroft first.

Spring: Mycroft and Sherlock
“What are frail? spring blossoms and youth.”

He knew the body was a traitor, its responses autonomic, unruly, disobedient, beyond his control. The body, his body, when presented with certain quantifiable data, for instance, touch of hands, flick of tongue, skin against skin, responded with: 1) elevated heart rate; 2) accelerated breathing; 3) increased salivation; 4) perspiration; 5) erection, etc., etc. Boring, but factual. Irrefutable.

Traitor, he whispered as he arched and ground his teeth. Traitor, he hissed as he twisted and shuddered, coming undone in the dark again and again.

Concentrate, he commanded. Concentrate! Do not let your body falter—

Involuntary. Defiant. He knew these things, knew them like he knew the periodic table, but he still cursed his own flesh and nerve endings when forced to face the inevitable, when Mycroft came to him in the night, stroked him, rubbed him, hands in his hair, down over the slope of his shoulders, down further to the slight dip of his waist, the length of his thighs, the length of him, whispering things, dirty things, things that made Sherlock twitch (I want to fuck you, Sherlock). Autonomic.

“Mycroft,” he said. He tried to make it sound like a warning but somehow it never did. “You are,” he tried again. “This is…beyond my control.”

He sensed Mycroft nodding, as he did when he knew he was right.

“There is nothing to fret about.” Light kisses on the inside of the thigh, fingers stroking, nails scraping.

“On the contrary.”

Mycroft tutted. “Don’t be frightened.”

“I’m not,” Sherlock lied.

“Good boy. It’s just a body, Sherlock. You must learn to separate that magnificent mind from your skin and bones. Enjoy what is being offered and do not analyze it.”

Spasming in Mycroft’s hand, muscles twitching, mouth open, sucking in and then expelling hot mouthfuls of air. All beyond his control, treacherous, traitorous body.

“Mycroft,” he said at last. “Why?”

“Silly. Because I love you.”

Oh.

“And you love me.”

Sherlock ducked his head, tucked it into his brother’s shoulder. He nodded. It was, after all, true.

“Good boy.”

“Sometimes…” Sherlock trailed off.

“Yes?”

“Sometimes I hate you, too.” Ashamed.

Mycroft chuckled sweetly in the sweet, spring evening air. “Yes. Of course you do.” Then he kissed him.

Sometimes it was wonderful.

Fall: Sherlock and John
“Days decrease, And autumn grows, autumn in everything.”

Later there was John. John with his steady gaze and steady temperament, steady hands, sure and steady and somehow even more terrifying than Mycroft because this time there was love involved, Real love, or what Sherlock surmised was Real love, after much experimentation and speculation.

Near death by gunshot wound? John was there, face pinched with worry, steady doctor’s hands probing and wrapping.

Near death by poison? John, controlled hysteria, calling 999 and ordering Sherlock to stay with him.

Near death by drowning? John, again, holding his sodden, frozen body until the ambulance arrived, then shouting directions at the attendants.

John, fed up, threatening to leave, leave 221b, leave their life, leave him, forever.

Ah, this, this was what the poets wrote of, what the common people spoke of, what the musicians sang about. This. This feeling of one’s heart being compressed beyond endurance. By any reason, he should be dead, with his most vital organ feeling this way.

“You can’t,” he said.

“Really? Why?”

Why? Why?

Unable to articulate through his strangled throat, he wrapped his arms around John instead, holding him so tightly he felt, rather than heard, John gasp, then laugh a little.

“Oi. You trying to kill me?”

Maybe, Sherlock thought, but realized almost immediately that it wasn’t the right thing to say just then. One did not want to purposely hurt the one he loved. Just another tip he’d picked up a long the way. Don’t hurt John.

“John. I would like to fuck you.”

John froze, then started coughing against Sherlock’s shirtfront.

“Sorry. What?”

“You heard me.”

“Yes. Yes I bloody well did. Sherlock, what the—”

“What?” Sherlock was puzzled. Wasn’t this the Way It Was Done? Mycroft. All Mycroft’s doing. Again. “I don’t really…know how to do this.”

It’s just a body, Sherlock. You must learn to separate that magnificent mind from your skin and bones.

“It’s just a body, John.”

“Not to me it isn’t.”

Sherlock cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

John spread his lovely hands wide. “I mean. I mean.” He shook his head.

“You love me,” Sherlock supplied. It wasn’t a question.

John blinked. “Well. Yes. All right.”

“Good.” Sherlock smiled at him. “Sometimes I hate Mycroft,” he added.

John laughed. “Sometimes?” John put his arms around him, held him, warm and sweet in the soft autumn heat.

Sherlock thought: Well, this is different.

Winter: Mycroft and John
“What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness.”

John thought: I could kill him if I wanted. I could kill him and get away with it, too. I even know where I’d put his body.

Mycroft, who saw through everything with his razor eyes and his thin-lipped observations, his sharp gaze and sensible words. He saw the truth and made no effort to soften it for propriety’s sake.

“He’s in love with you, you realize,” Mycroft said. His umbrella tapped against the floor, sharp staccato sounds. John closed his eyes briefly and shook his head. Those Holmes boys.

“I don’t think that’s possible,” he said at last and his voice sounded scratchy. He needed some water. He possibly needed something stronger.

“It’s not only possible, it’s probable.”

“I’m not sure if Sherlock is…I don’t know if he can.”

“Oh course he can.”

“He’s…been in love before?”

“Well. He has loved before.”

John waited. Mycroft watched.

“This is different,” Mycroft said. “You are different.”

John waited.

“You love him,” Mycroft said. It wasn’t a question.

These Holmes boys.

John nodded.

“And you want him to love you.”

“Look, it really doesn’t matter—”

“Nonsense. Of course it does.” Mycroft sighed. “In the meantime.” He shrugged.

“In the meantime what?”

“I think we can come to some kind of arrangement, don’t you?”

He leaned over and kissed John, softly.

“An arrangement.”

“Because there is much I can teach you.”

“About?”

Sleet ticked against the window, cold, steady. Mycroft tutted.

“About our mutual interest, John. Obviously.”

John listened to the snow, listened to his own heavy heartbeat. Tick tick tick tick tick. He looked at Mycroft.

“Is that a promise?”

Mycroft shrugged, pursed his mouth. “Perhaps. Or, a warning.”

Tick, tick, tick, tick, tick.

Summer: Mycroft/John/Sherlock
“In summer, intolerable closeness.”

“I really don’t think this is going to work,” John whispered. The others pounced, sensing his weakness even as he did.

“It will if we want it to,” Mycroft said.

“Maybe. But I don’t think I want it to.”

Mycroft had come for tea and for a time it was all very formal with talk about the unbearable heat and how lovely it would be to make a trip to the seaside and this and that, but then the tension pulled and pulled and finally snapped and Mycroft rose as if to leave but instead kissed Sherlock soundly on the mouth.

After that, it all happened very quickly, with the three of them in Sherlock’s room, on Sherlock’s bed, and before John completely realized what was going on, Sherlock was at his lips and Mycroft was somewhere else. Where the hell was Mycroft, anyway? Oh, there. John closed his eyes, tried to think, to think, to reason and rationalize, but no coherent thought was making itself known to him, nothing tangible to grasp, only his body reacting.

It’s just a body, yes? Sherlock’s words after all, so they must be true, yes? Yes? Just a body reacting to another body, another mouth.

John groaned and bit his lip. Oh, not his lip, but Sherlock’s lip, because he was still kissing Sherlock. Mycroft moved between John’s legs, steady and methodical, but oh so very practiced, John realized, realized too late. I should have know, he thought. I should have known it would be like this. He warned me, he warned me and I should have been prepared. He focused instead on Sherlock’s mouth, the fullness and sweetness there, tongue and lips and breath huffing against John’s cheek. There was no air in the room. They were using up all the goddamn air, the three of them. They’d all suffocate before this was over. Three bodies using up all the goddamn air in the world.

Sherlock pulled John close, closer and John’s hand found Sherlock’s cock and then it really was all over, very quickly after that.

He was never sure who came first. He supposed it didn’t really matter, though he was sure one of them knew. Of course they did. They would know. He opened his mouth to ask but instead pressed his lips, lax and wet, into the curve of Sherlock’s shoulder, breathed him in. Sherlock’s fingers dug against his scalp for a moment, possessive, then fell away.

Slick skin, wet sheets. Air. Air.

“Well,” Sherlock spoke at last. “That was different.”

“Indeed,” Mycroft said. His voice came from very far away. John sensed movement in the dim room, heard the rustle of clothes, the creak of the floorboard, familiar even now, in the midst of everything that had become so unfamiliar.

John licked his lips. He needed water. He needed to sleep.

“I’ll be leaving you boys now,” Mycroft said.

If the heat doesn’t get you, the Holmes brothers will, John thought, then giggled. Sherlock looked at him, eyes sharp.

“What?”

John shook his head. “Nothing. Doesn’t matter.”

Sherlock put his head on John’s chest, exhaled a hot breath of air. John felt his heart beat against his chest, against Sherlock’s cheek. The door closed.

And summer spun on.

Wow...that was. Wow. Different and confusing amd poetic and Holmesian and so very very catching.
Loved the style to pieces!

Edited 2012-11-13 21:11 (UTC)

So,this is awesome. I'm too satisfied from the fic to say/think anything else......

...Can I request that you save the abuse of reaction!gifs for tumblr?

It's... it's livejournal. We use our words here.

Yikes! Lighten up there. Just as we're asked to refrain from bashing or kink shaming here, lets extend that same courtesy to those leaving comments, too, yes? Everyone chooses to express themselves differently and that's all right!

Oi! No need to be harsh!
I liked the gifs, it's nice I have some color over here.
If you don't like it, you ignore it. Can't hurt you, now, can it? That a boy.

I don't mind the gifs, but it would have been nice to put them behing spoiler cuts. If they're not, they can take awhile to load for some people. And all the different motions are a little dizzying for me personally, I'm afraid.

FANTASTIC. So hot and so ambiguous...

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only