Sherlock BBC Prompting Meme

"we get all sorts around here."


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Prompting: Part XI
Giggles at the Palace
sherlockbbc_fic
Please check the Sticky Post to find the newest active part and post your prompts there.

Prompts from this post can be filled on the Overflow Post




GENERAL GUIDELINES
+Anon posting is most definitely allowed, but not required.
+All kinds of fills are accepted! Fic, art, vids, cosplay, interpretive dance--whatever. Go wild! :D
+Keep things neat! Read prompts before you post to see if something similar has already been done, and while you are encouraged to prompt as much as you like, try to fill as well.
+Please do not re-post prompts unless the last time they were prompted was on an older part. Simply put: ONE posting of each prompt per part.
+Until further notice, RPF (real person fic, i.e. fic involving the actors themselves) is not supported at this meme.
+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. Also at 7000, a new part will be posted, and all prompting should happen on the new part.
+Multiple fills are encouraged! :) Just because a prompt has already been claimed or written by someone, do not be afraid to offer up a second fill.

THE FILLED PROMPTS POST
There's a link to this at the bottom of the post. I ask that 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, please 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.
Do not be afraid to ask questions about how it works if you are confused! The mod would be happy to explain.

CONTACTING MODS
Your mods for this meme are snowishness and marill_chan. 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.

RE: OFFENSIVELY WORDED PROMPTS
Guys, I will only put in one reminder about this.
Think before you prompt about the way you are asking. It isn’t difficult, and it will only take a minute or so of your time.

I also urge you to consider warning not just for triggery prompts, but also for fills, because some people will be viewing in flat view.

That said...
DISCLAIMER
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 have rights to an opinion, of course, just as you have the right to scroll right past a prompt that you dislike.

Remember, guys; Be civil, be friendly, but don’t be shy!

LINKS AND AFFILIATES
Delicious Archive - Delicious Prompt Archive
Filled Prompts Post - Page-A-Mod
Check the Sticky Post to find a list of all the prompting posts.
Flat View of This Page
Love Post - Rant Post - Chatter Post
Sherlock RPF Request Post
Overflow Post

  • 1
Lestrade is a young PC who gets a call to shut down a disturbance at a party/nightclub. What he finds there are a bunch of university-age kids on drugs, and, in particular, a pretty dark-haired boy covered in glitter and high up on cocaine who tries to proposition Lestrade as a bribe.

Does Lestrade take the bribe? Does he stand strong and lock him up? Or does he take the kid home, and wash the glitter off his face, and put him to sleep in Lestrade's own bed?

FUCK! This could be so HOT! Seconded!

Thirded! :D

I need this deliciously naughty prompt to be filled people!

I need this more than I need OXYGEN.

ALL RIGHT BITCHES
NC-17 FILL OF FILTHINESS IS ON THE WAY
LEMME JUST EAT SOME BEN&JERRY'S FIRST.


YOU KNOW. TO GET IN THE MOOD.

EVERY FUCKING WORD OF THIS COMMENT MAKES ME TINGLE WITH EXCITEMENT.

OP IS QUIVERING IN ANTICIPATION

DELICIOUS ANTICIPATION

HERE HAVE SOME PRONS (1/?)

(Anonymous)
BEFORE YOU READ THIS YOU SHOULD KNOW THAT: A) I HAVE NEVER WRITTEN ANYTHING THIS DIRTY BEFORE AND B) I PROBABLY GOT POLICE STUFF WRONG, BUT WE'RE ALL HERE FOR THE SECKS ANYWAY SO DEAL WITH IT. CARRY ON.

3:08 AM

Lestrade gasped. "Oh, shit - "

At the moment, there was this: A tongue running up the side of his neck, obscenely long fingers sneaking into the waistband of his sensible trousers, the tickle of black curls against his earlobe.

And then there was this: "Still not convinced, Constable Lestrade?", drawled in a baritone rumble against his lips.

Then a hand was wrapping around his cock, and for a millisecond Lestrade's body was torn between jerking at the hips and shuddering all down the spine -- and then it was doing both and a hoarse, drawn-out gasp was the only sound he seemed capable of making. He bucked into the white hand, unable to stop himself, and was reprimanded with a nip to his shoulder and the restraining press of slender hips against his, though this was not, as such, unpleasant. In fact, well -

His thoughts sputtered and died out as the fingers began to move at an almost cruel speed. He could feel the wallpaper behind him now, cold and invasive against the stretch of bare skin between his lowered pants and rucked-up shirt, the pebbled texture a sharp contrast to the cool smoothness of the hand servicing him. His hands scrabbled for purchase, anywhere, running restlessly over his chest and face and grasping fruitlessly at the wall above his head. A series of whimpers emerged, unbidden, from his lips.

Sherlock's lips curved wickedly against his throat.

12:42 AM

" - I understand, sir," Lestrade said tiredly into his phone, "Things are just a bit rowdy down here. We'll have it cleared up in no time. Oi, get off, you bloody tosser - sorry, not you, sir - "

He covered the mouthpiece for a moment and cast around, trying to spot another squad member in the jumble of mile-high uni students. "DONOVAN," he hollered over the hubbub, "WHERE ARE YOU? HOW MANY ARE LEFT?"

An unintelligible answering shout came from behind one of the police cars. A very displeased-looking Sally poked her head over the hood.

"What was that?" Lestrade yelled back.

"I said, nearly done now. Just need to put this lot in the van. Listen, you go in and do one last sweep, me and Anderson'll take care of these kids."

"Will do." Lestrade put the phone back to his ear and murmured, "Yes, sir, just cleanup left. Er. Yes. No, don't trouble yourself, sir, it's all sorted. All right, see you tomorrow."

He snapped his phone closed, massaged his temples a bit, and re-entered the club, which was still shadowy despite the fact that they'd turned on all the lights. The concrete floor was strewn with debris of both the glittery and questionable kind, which Lestrade skirted smartly. No sense getting these shoes dirty. They still had a year left in them, at least.

Outside, the rest of the squad was leaving, the druggie-laden van speeding off with a faint rumble. A few officers remained, but they too soon would depart. Hopefully, Lestrade would be with them. It had been a long day, and he was more than ready to go home and enjoy a nice cuppa -

One of the crates stacked nearby fell to the ground with a resounding crash. Lestrade leapt and had his gun out before he could process the sight of the person behind the remains of the stack. Then his brain caught up with his eyes, though apparently his lungs had been left behind because he couldn't seem to breathe properly at all, and he lowered his gun. The person now climbing lazily up from behind the crates was a boy, no more than two or three years his junior, dark-haired, pale-skinned, and clearly high as a kite. His pupils were blown huge and dark, and there was a languorous drag to his movements. His shirt hung open, and the white planes of his collarbones and neck had been dusted with glitter. Lestrade swallowed. He didn't need his gun, anyway. This slim creature wasn't going to hurt him. Probably. He checked his watch and groaned.

Re: HERE HAVE SOME PRONS (1/?)

(Anonymous)
(that second bit happened BEFORE the first bit, in case that somehow wasn't clear. And now I am knackered and I must have sleep. MORE/REAL PR0NS TOMORROW, I PROMISE)

(Deleted comment)

Re: HERE HAVE SOME PRONS (1/?)

(Anonymous)
authoranon says: oh for the love of pants, of course you're right. I'm terribly sorry! That's what I get for writing in the middle of the night lol

HAY GUISE just pretend it says truncheon instead of gun, yeah?

more fic coming soon - let me just finish my paper which is due at midnight (gdi uni, stop getting in the way of my fic-writing) D:

(Deleted comment)

Re: HERE HAVE SOME PRONS (1/?)

(Anonymous)
FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFff

I need more. NOW.

NO WORDS NO WORDS NO WORDS

You have no idea how much I appreciate you right now.

Re: HERE HAVE SOME PRONS (1/?)

(Anonymous)
PLOT, WHAT PLOT

12:58 AM
The boy's name was Sherlock, although he'd said it more like "Shhhherrrlock", all low rumbly syllables with a pronounced click at the end. Also, he had no concept of personal space (though that might have been due at least in part to the coke), and he kept stumbling and draping himself all over Lestrade, and Christ, it really had been way too long if some stoner boy with an unexpectedly low voice was enough to rev him up.

The last of the policemen had already left, much to Lestrade's dismay. Of all the days to be abandoned by his squad-! He shrugged off the unfairly pretty boy (again) and pulled at his unfairly slender wrist, ignoring his mumbled protests.

"You, my friend, are going straight into the clinker," he informed Sherlock matter-of-factly.

"Oh, now, Constable Lestrade," said Sherlock, grinning catlike, "you don't want to do that."

"Don't I, though?" said Lestrade, opening the door.

Sherlock slouched out, talking lazily the whole time. "Well, for one thing, you've been up since at 5 AM, and are undoubtedly quite fatigued. For another, it's been a busy day - you've had to break up a total of three bar fights today, not to mention you were forced to chase a bank thief through half of London. That's a bit much even for a dedicated copper like yourself, mm?" There was that shit-eating grin again, and Lestrade couldn't decide whether to gape or glare. Fortunately, his face seemed to be stuck with the former option, so he didn't really have to choose.

"Besides," added Sherlock matter-of-factly, "you're going to take me home."

At this point, Lestrade's mouth finally re-engaged and he snapped, "What? I'm doing nothing of the kind."

^UGH FAIL; HERE HAVE SOME PRONS (2/?) IS ABOVE

(Anonymous)
And this is part 3.

2:13 AM

"I don't bloody believe this," muttered Lestrade for the umpteenth time.

"You know, people are always saying that sort of thing around me," said Sherlock, who was draped indecently over the sensible armchair Lestrade's mother had bought him when he moved in a year ago. Literally, draped - legs flung over the headrest, head dangling off the seat. There was glitter in his hair. It sparkled cheekily in the moonlight.

Lestrade squeezed his eyes shut. "Who is this brother of yours, anyway?" he asked. "I mean... every single cabbie in London? Really?"

Sherlock let out a little hum of frustration. "Yes, he does have a rather annoying amount of power. And no, I'm not telling you. We have an agreement, and if I'm to continue doing as I please, I'm not allowed to do things that irritate him, like throwing his name around. More's the pity," he added, mostly to himself.

This was the long and short of it: some smartass druggie had removed the valve cores from Lestrade's tires, essentially flattening them. He'd been forced to hail a cab to take them to the station, a process which Sherlock had watched with no small amount of amusement. Lestrade soon found out what, exactly, was so funny, when the cabbie took one look at Sherlock and went, "And where would sir like to go?"

Lestrade had tried to tell him to take them back to the station, but Sherlock interrupted smoothly, saying, "Constable Lestrade's flat, if you please. Oh dear, where is the address, exactly, Lestrade?"

"I'm not - " Lestrade had begun, outraged. "We are not going to my flat! Scotland Yard, please."

But the cabbie had avoided his eyes and refused to go anywhere until Lestrade looked desperately at his watch, threw his hands up, and told him the address. Sherlock had just sat there and smirked.

Lestrade glared at Sherlock now. He was still deposited dramatically in the armchair, still sparkling in the most infuriating way possible. Lestrade wanted nothing more than to clap those bird-bone wrists in some good, old-fashioned handcuffs and throw him in a cell, and maybe hold him down on the gaol floor with his body and now, now would be a really good time to stop thinking. He shook his head violently and rubbed a hand over his face. God, what he wouldn't have given for a beer.

"All right," he said, in what he hoped was a stern tone but probably just came out tired-sounding, "you've gotten off tonight, but first thing in the morning I'm taking you straight down to the station, no arguments."

"Don't be silly, you haven't got a car."

"I'll call someone down from the station, you little tosser. Now for the love of Christ, would you get off that armchair and clean yourself up?" He cleared his throat. "You can sleep on the sofa. Lord knows it's more than you deserve."

Re: ^UGH FAIL; HERE HAVE SOME PRONS (2/?) IS ABOVE

Oh, I like the cabbie gambit! (And that, of course, throws an interesting light on ASIP too...^^)

Much love for this fill, hope for more!

HERE HAVE SOME PRONS (4/?)

(Anonymous)
JSYK
THIS IS HOW LESTRADE LOOKS IN THIS AU (http://www.corbisimages.com/images/42-19848121.jpg?size=67&uid=bea04a46-70bb-4c56-9232-f3644cfd3369&uniqID=d23a4139-ec28-49b4-965a-0f604b8839b2)
UNF.

2:58 AM

By the time Lestrade had finished showering, shaving, and brushing his teeth, Sherlock had... not moved an inch. Lestrade came back into the living room to find him still sprawled over the armchair, eyes closed, a small frown line between them.

"Oh, for heaven's sake," Lestrade began.

"I think," said Sherlock, "there are a few things we need to discuss, Constable."

And without the slightest warning, Sherlock was moving, at a speed that would have been jarring even if he hadn't just been nearly motionless, and Lestrade found himself pinned quite efficiently to the wall. He swallowed. Hard.

"Sherlock," he said, "get. Off."

Sherlock's breath was hot on his ear as he whispered, "Allow me," fingers creeping under Lestrade's shirt, "to convince you," slight shift of hips against his, oh, "of the futility," chest pressing in and the smell of drugs and sweat, "of your plans for the morning - "

"Jesus Christ," said Lestrade, voice a strangled mess, and yanked Sherlock by the hair into a crushing kiss.

Which was how he found himself being helplessly jerked off against a wall by a dark-haired creature from hell. In his own apartment.

"Still not convinced, Constable Lestrade?" breathed Sherlock against his ear.

" - fucking - " Lestrade's eyes rolled back in his head, how could such cold fingers make him burn like this? - "no, God, no, you insane - you bloody - absolute nutter - "

"Well, now," said Sherlock, musingly, "that won't do."

And he left. Just walked away, hand glistening slightly with precome and glitter, shirt rumpled around exposed shoulders.

He made it about two feet before Lestrade growled, "God damn," and tackled him, slammed him against the wall next to the bedroom door so he couldn't walk away (and walls were a brilliant invention, whoever had thought of them should get a medal), kissed him hard enough to bruise his dramatic mouth. Sherlock chuckled darkly, which made Lestrade shudder up and down his entire body and deepen the kiss even more, lick hungrily at the inside of Sherlock's mouth, teeth scraping relentlessly over his lips. Sherlock was so light, and it was so natural to lift him up against the wall, for his legs to wrap around Lestrade's waist, and oh, yes, the pressure was just right now - one of them was moaning, a lovely, wanton sound -

Somehow they made it into the bedroom, kissing insistently, Sherlock in Lestrade's arms, which were shaking only a little, thank you very much. The bed yielded to their weight without too much protest, not even squeaking much as Lestrade literally ripped Sherlock's clothing off, rocking the mattress violently in the process.

"Little impatient, are we, Constable?" panted Sherlock.

"Shut up," said Lestrade matter-of-factly, tugging Sherlock's trousers off and pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his collarbone. Sherlock arched into it, lips parted in a silent gasp.

Re: HERE HAVE SOME PRONS (4/?)

(Anonymous)
*random unf and guh noises*

this is a pinnacle of hotness

Re: HERE HAVE SOME PRONS (4/?)

I think this the craziest hottest funniest most beautiful young!Sherlestrade pron I've read yet.

COME ON, CONSTABLE! TACKLE ME THOSE PANTS!

PLEASE NEVER STOP ANON

PLEASE NEVER STOP

8D 8D 8D 8D 8D Will leave you more coherent feedback at the very end but ugh yes I am enjoying the hell out of this and ~*GLITTER*~.

Re: HERE HAVE SOME PRONS (5/6)

(Anonymous)
I am writing porn in a comment box. This is what my life has come to.
ALSO CAKE SPRINKLES ARE IMPORTANT
I THOUGHT YOU ALL SHOULD KNOW

----
Lestrade promptly made it his business to kiss every inch of Sherlock's glitter-dusted skin, as though he were licking the sprinkles off a cake. He mouthed hungrily at it, at the dip just below his right shoulder, the wanton expanse of his stomach, the smooth curved junction of his thigh and pelvis. He licked up the edge of the bone there, pausing just short of the place where Sherlock was already half-hard. Sherlock whined impatiently and attempted to shift his hips in a more favorable direction, an attempt Lestrade foiled by moving back up to take his mouth again. He pressed down, fraying t-shirt flush against pale skin, and a frustrated groan came from one of them, because pressure was, well, pressure was great, actually, but trousers were decidedly not. Clearly thinking along these lines, Sherlock broke the kiss to flip them over. He began to tug at Lestrade's jimjams, though he was slightly hindered in this because neither of them seemed able to resist the compulsion to touch, hands wandering over arse and neck and back and generally getting in the way of each other. Finally Sherlock gave a growl of frustration, hissed "Hold still", and tore the t-shirt and trousers off, thoroughly mussing Lestrade's already-wayward dark hair. He molded himself to the burning length of Lestrade's body, caught the constable's bottom lip between his teeth.

Then he reached over to the nightstand, fumbled around in the drawer, and retrieved tube and a condom without so much as a by-your-leave.

"What - how did you know I had lube - mmph in there," gasped Lestrade between kisses.

Sherlock didn't even bother to answer (and his mouth was otherwise occupied, at any rate), just grabbed Lestrade's fingers and sloppily squeezed lube all over them without really looking. (Later, Lestrade would find random globs of lubricant smeared all over his bedspread.) He sat up, eyes and skin both alight, cock dripping obscenely onto Lestrade's abdomen, and guided the lube-slicked fingers inside him.

Lestrade let out a hoarse sound that went something like, "Hnggggfuck."

"Indeed," agreed Sherlock breathlessly, moving briskly up and down. "Oh. Yes, yes, there it is - "

Two fingers later, when Sherlock seemed unable to close his mouth or do anything except gasp at the ceiling, Lestrade had to pull out so he could snap on the condom with shaking hands, licking a stripe up Sherlock's chest by way of apology.

When Sherlock lowered himself next, this was what Lestrade said:

"Jesus fuck, oh God - "

"Oh, I doubt he engaged in that sort of thing very often," rasped Sherlock. Then they both began to move with rough urgency and words became something of an impossibility.

They fucked like starving men who had just been offered a feast, Sherlock's body literally undulating as he ground himself desperately down onto Lestrade's cock. At some point, Lestrade sat up and locked his arms around Sherlock's torso, kissing him desperately as their frenzied bucking continued. The slow burn of orgasm began to build in Lestrade's belly, and now they were too overcome to kiss properly, to do more than breathe harshly into each others' mouths as they writhed together.

"Oh, yes," groaned Sherlock into Lestrade's hairline, "harder, harder - oh, yeah, just like that, oh fuck - "

Re: HERE HAVE SOME PRONS (6/6)

(Anonymous)
That - the low, broken sound of Sherlock's cursing - that, and the taste of his sweaty, glitter-strewn skin, that did it. Lestrade came with a hoarse cry, shuddering violently, head thrown back. He continued to thrust through his orgasm, and when he was spent and Sherlock was still bucking desperately against him, he reached down and feathered the tips of his fingers over the skin of his cock, just once. It was enough; Sherlock let out a series of guttural cries as his entire body shook with ecstasy. Lestrade held him through it, pressing small kisses to his chest.

They fell back on the bed, exhausted and panting. Lestrade was still embracing Sherlock, and he wasn't sure he minded very much. Judging from the (frankly creepy) Grinch-like grin on Sherlock's face, neither did he.

For a few moments they simply lay there, looking at each other. Then Sherlock said, "And now, my dear Constable?"

"Wha?" said Lestrade, the sated grin not leaving his face.

"I am asking if you have been sufficiently convinced, Lestrade, do try to keep up," replied Sherlock, though without as much venom as he probably would have liked.

A beat. Then:

"I don't know, Sherlock," said Lestrade quietly. "I think you might have to convince me some more."

Impossibly, Sherlock's self-satisfied grin widened even more. "Oh, indeed? Well. It would be my pleasure."

-fin

OH MY GOD I DON'T EVEN KNOW, YOU GUYS
I DON'T EVEN KNOW
DO NOT JUDGE ME

author anon (Anonymous) Expand
Re: OP (Anonymous) Expand
author anon (Anonymous) Expand

LINK TO CLEANED-UP FILL!

http://cake-sparkles.livejournal.com/746.html

CAN I JUST SAY THAT I LOVE YOU GUYS SFM.

. . .

-high pitched squeal-

GODDAMMIT! -butterflies-

hurryhurryhurryhurryhurry

  • 1
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