sherlockbbc_fic (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sherlockbbc_fic) wrote2014-03-30 11:33 am
sherlockbbc_fic) wrote2014-03-30 11:33 am
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Prompting Part XXXV
GUIDELINES
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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.
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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
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Pinboard Archive - Delicious Archive - Guide to the 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
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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.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif){kind=small}
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.
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You Were My First - Part 5a/5
(Anonymous) 2014-10-12 11:36 pm (UTC)(link)Daniel Green's mutilated carcass was still sprawled in the loo, and every time Jim closed his eyes, the agony he'd caused Green replayed in his mind’s eye. Exquisite.
"Take it, take itJim gritted through clenched teeth, reaming into Sebastian impossibly harder. His belt jangled with every movement, spanking the backs of Sebastian’s thighs, probably leaving welts.
Sebastian clung to the island as best he could, attempting to bite back his cries now. His sweaty hands slipped for purchase on the marble as Jim pummelled out a month’s worth of tension.
Bloody hand prints littered Sebastian’s clothing and bare skin from where Jim had touched him; there were twin marks from where he'd clasped Sebastian’s pelvis. Now he simply clutched handfuls of Sebastian’s shirt, using the hold to drag Sebastian back into his thrusts. He had to be hurting by now, but he didn’t ask Jim to slow down or stop. He knew that Jim would stop if he asked, right?
With that disquieting uncertainty suddenly foremost in his thoughts, Jim slowed his pace and reached between Sebastian’s legs, stroking the reassuring hardness he found there. Sebastian moaned softly at the contact, and it sounded pained. He moved his hips restlessly, trying to fuck his cock through Jim’s fist.
“You like this, huh? Like me fucking you this hard?”
“Yes,” Sebastian groaned thickly, hole clamping around Jim's length as his prick was fondled and stroked.
Jim released his cock and reached instead for his scrotum.
Sebastian's testicles were drawn tightly to his body and he made a small noise of protest when Jim tugged gently on them.
“Need to come,” Sebastian gasped, moving restlessly to-and-fro. “C'mon, Jim.”
All of Sebastian's assertiveness had deteriorated in the bathroom as Jim had made Green sing for him, and he'd grown increasingly fidgety as Jim had taken his sweet time working Green over. Jim went back to stroking his cock, smiling at Sebastian's murmured sound of relief. It was intoxicating, this power. Jim hadn't been able to resist dragging Sebastian to the kitchen and bending him over the island.
Rather than resuming his break-neck pace, Jim tilted his hips and thrust into Sebastian with deep, rolling grinds, slow enough to drive himself mad with how excruciatingly good it felt.
He stroked Sebastian's cock in tandem with his thrusts and soon felt Sebastian quake beneath him, spine arching. His prick hardened further in Jim's grasp just before hot, viscous semen slicked his hand. A low, almost indecipherable moan penetrated the air as Sebastian came, pushing helplessly through Jim's tight fist.
Jim gasped as Sebastian spasmed around his cock and continued thrusting into that over-sensitive orifice until his own release coated Sebastian's insides. He fastened his teeth hard into Sebastian's shoulder, drawing a pained grunt from him. But Sebastian kept absolutely still, letting Jim ride out his orgasm without complaint.
After the last spurt of ejaculate was released, Jim draped himself over Sebastian's back for a minute, panting heavily against his neck as his prick softened in Sebastian's arse. When he'd got his breath back he pressed tender kisses to the damp skin, nuzzling Sebastian's hairline and whispering nonsensical sentiments against his flesh.
When things became almost painfully sensitive, Jim pulled free from the clutch of Sebastian's arsehole with a faint, wet sound. He kept a firm hand on Sebastian's lower back, however, to keep him in place while Jim pulled up his own pants and trousers and tucked his soft prick away.
Re: You Were My First - Part 5b/5
(Anonymous) 2014-10-12 11:42 pm (UTC)(link)Jim finally released him, stepping back and admiring the red streaks he'd left upon Sebastian's buttocks and thighs. He wondered if they'd bruise.
“Take care of the body,” he said evenly to Sebastian's nearly motionless form, suddenly businesslike. “And clean this up.”
He left the room and made for his office. He locked the door behind himself and proceeded to collapse onto the chair in front of his desk, pressing his palms to his mouth to smother the hysterical laughter that bubbled out of his throat.
Jim was in serious danger of nodding off when at last, he heard the faintest jangle of keys and the creak of the front door. His head, which had been steadily drooping towards his chest, snapped up and his previously fluttering eyelids were now resolutely open.
Quiet steps in the foyer, followed by another indistinct jingle as she hung her keys on the hook. Even her footsteps sounded timid to Jim's ears as she crept around, always wary of disturbing her husband.
He glanced at his clock. It was almost one in the morning, he noted with fearful excitement. Things had to have taken effect by then. He heard her drifting down the hall to her bedroom. She didn't stop to look in on him for once, choosing to overlook the light issuing from under his closed door.
Will she notice straight off? he wondered. She had to. She wasn't that dense.
He listened hard, gnawing his lower lip and plucking at his blanket. Bare minutes had passed when he heard rustling and the screech of his parent's mattress as she climbed into bed.
The screeching of bedsprings resumed again, louder and more urgent this time, accompanied by many gasped reiterations of his father's name. Jim's temples throbbed and his fingers twitched. He desperately wanted to see her reaction, but forced himself to sit quietly and wait. She would need her privacy.
After less than a minute the noises ceased and the utter silence that followed seemed to engulf the house. Jim dared breathe once more, waiting for what would surely come next...
But no wailing scream ripped through the night; no heart-rending sobs echoed through the house, nor even –he thought foolishly– whoops of joy. The silence, which should have been rife with possibilities, now felt unnerving and dodgy as it stretched longer.
As the time drifted towards one-thirty Jim's apprehension melted steadily to a harsh, nonsensical anger borne from deep impatience. What was taking her so long? She wasn't trying to protect him, was she? He hated waiting on tenterhooks for things to happen when he wanted the instantaneous satisfaction of seeing what his actions had wrought.
He jumped out of bed, keyed up and restless, on the verge of bustling to their room to see what the hold-up was, when he detected a shuffling tread heading down the hall. It had to be his mother – anyone else would have set the floorboards creaking like mad. He paused in the centre of his room, standing as tall as he was able. He was unsurprised when the steps halted outside his door.
Jim prepared himself to feign surprise when she brought him the news, though he still didn't know if he could pull off crying on queue. The knob turned and the door swung inward. There was no storm of tears or a gently whispered, 'Jim'. She stood beneath the frame, starting only a little to see him standing there waiting for her. Her skin was stained gold by the yellow light radiating from Jim's lamp, framed eerily against the shadowy hallway.
She walked inside without a word, floral skirt floating around her ankles. Her visage was drawn and blank; even her usually pink lips had turned pale. Jim felt a stab of misgiving and worked hard not to take a step away from her as the triumphant emotions that had been accumulating inside of him crumbled.
Re: You Were My First - Part 5c/5
(Anonymous) 2014-10-12 11:48 pm (UTC)(link)She spoke before he'd even formulated his first sentence, voice devoid of emotion. “Why did you do this, Jim? Please, tell me. Help me understand.” Her brown eyes, so like his own, were locked on his face and seemed to burrow into his brain.
“I don't understand,” he lied pathetically. “Mum, what's happened?”
Instead of answering verbally, he features contorted and she lunged at him. Her left hand flashed out, palm connecting to the right side of his face with a meaty smack.
Jim's head snapped to the side and he reeled backwards on his heels from the force of the blow. Blood flooded his mouth and trickled down his chin. His face throbbed where she'd struck him. Neither of his parents had ever hit him, and he felt the pain with interest and resentment.
Then she was kneeing in front of him, cheeks and eyes flaming. She grasped his shoulders, fingernails digging down to the bone like talons, leaving bruises.
“Why?” she repeated. “I know you did it. Arthur would never've-”
“I didn't do anything,” Jim spat, glaring.
Her eyes narrowed and she shook him violently.
“Stoplying to me,” she hissed with a bitten-off sob. “Just stop it, now. Please.” Her voice wavered to something barely above a whisper.
Jim gazed at her distraught face, gauging what he could and shouldn't tell her.
“He deserved it,” Jim muttered eventually, the truth spilling forth despite his reservations. He was just so tired people acting like everything bad that happened was his fault.
“How could he possibly have deserved this?” Her voice held less fire now. Her chin trembled but her eyes remained clear, unblinking.
“Last Tuesday,” Jim said, recalling that night with undiminished anger. “I saw what he did to you.”
Tears filled her eyes then, and she stared at him like he was a particularly difficult calculus equation. The tears trickled down her cheeks and something within her appeared to break.
Suddenly she pulled him into an embrace, clutching him hard to her chest, arms folding around his back. Her face was buried in the junction between shoulder and neck. Her frame quavered and tears wet his skin as she sobbed quietly into his shoulder. He was engulfed by the scent of olive oil in her hair and her floral perfume.
Jim's arms hung limply at his sides as she squeezed him, breasts rising and falling rapidly against his chest. He felt nauseous at the display of sorrow, and was grateful she couldn't see his grimace of revulsion. He patted her back gently, hoping she'd finish weeping soon. She should have been happy and popping a bottle of champagne, not... like this.
At length she released him, wiping her face shakily with the backs of her hands and sniffling. Jim patted her forearm awkwardly.
After many deep, slow breaths, she rose fluidly from her cramped kneeling position. Though her face and eyes were red and puffy, she looked determined. When she held out a hand to him, he regarded it warily.
“C'mon, James,” she goaded. “We have to get you cleaned up.”
He didn't hold her hand, but he followed her to the bathroom and allowed her to clean out the blood from his mouth and face.
“I'm going to call an ambulance,” she informed him, scrubbing at the dried blood on his chin, fingers ghosting apologetically over the cheek she'd slapped. “I want you to go to bed and pretend you've been sleeping the entire night. Ya got me?”
She doesn't look afraid of him anymore. In fact, he couldn't read her expression at all. It was Jim's turn to feel unsettled by her. He simply nodded, and she ruffled his hair.
“We'll get through this together, Jim. Everything'll work out,” she promised, eyes steely. Then she leaned in and kissed his forehead.
He returned to bed shortly, and his mum flicked off the light, shrouding the room in darkness. Jim lay on his back and stared out his window at the winking stars and drifting clouds, waiting patiently for the sound of sirens.
Re: You Were My First - Part 5d/5
(Anonymous) 2014-10-12 11:56 pm (UTC)(link)At least he felt contented now, and that made things a tad easier; a tad more enjoyable. Before getting started, however, he pulled out a drawer and retrieved a scrap of thin, sickly yellow paper that had fluttered to the back.
He read the diminutive, smarmy article clipped from The Irish Times with the same satisfaction he'd felt an hour earlier, when he'd finally opened Green's throat and watched his life spill, choking and juddering, to the tiles.
Professor A. Moriarty, 39, was confirmed dead from an alleged overdose at
his home in the early hours of Thursday morning.
He appears to have ingested a lethal concoction of
antidepressants and alcohol.
Though as yet unconfirmed by law enforcement officials
it is also believed to have been a suicide.
According to his wife, Samantha Moriarty, 31, and her husband's attending
physician, Moriarty had long suffered from severe depression and had
been on a steady regimen of antidepressants for over ten years.
Despite his doctor's express orders, he drank and smoked regularly.
His spouse discovered his body upon returning from visiting her
sister early Thursday morning.
She immediately contacted the authorities, but when paramedics arrived
on the scene it was too late.
In the meantime, Moriarty's colleagues and students have banded
together in a truly heart-warming fashion by erecting a
memorial on campus where people can donate to charities related
to depression awareness and suicide prevention.
After reading it over several times too many, Jim put it away and opened his laptop, excitement and eagerness for what was to come finally renewed.
Posted here on AO3 http://archiveofourown.org/works/2177367/chapters/4764396
Re: You Were My First - Part 5d/5
(Anonymous) 2014-10-13 05:21 am (UTC)(link)Great work!