Sherlock BBC Prompting Meme

"we get all sorts around here."

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Prompting: Part XIII
Giggles at the Palace
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

+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.

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.

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.

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...
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!

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More Spanking

...cause we need it!

When Jim gets himself almost killed (Reichenbach, the Pool, anything else) Moran has finally had enough. He kills for his boss, he'd kill himself for him, but he won't watch his boss kill himself out of boredom and stupidity.

So he does what every self respecting right hand man and sniper does. He pulls Jim's trousers down, bends him over his knee and spanks him, until Moriarty has learnt his lesson: Don't get yourself killed. This is how Sebastian learns three things himself.

a) Moriarty totally gets off on this, b) So does Moran, c) He is utterly and completely in love with his insane boss and doesn't want to lose him. Cue sexy times!

TL;DR: Moran spanks Moriarty, because he is angry with him.

Re: More Spanking

Vigorously seconding your abc.

Re: More Spanking

Ooooh, me likey.

Fill: More Spanking part 1

The sod. The lunatic. The stupid little doe eyed fool. Moran paused in his pacing - it didn’t seem to be doing anything to relieve his feelings anyway – while he tried to think of more insults to describe his idiot boss.

Did he even have any idea how close he’d come to dying this time? If Watson had fired just one inch to the left – one fucking terrifying, blessed inch, then James Moriarty would have toppled into the chasm in the arms of Sherlock Holmes.

He could have died. Would have died, smashed to pieces on those bastard rocks and wrapped in Sherlock’s damn chilly embrace. Because of course that was all Moriarty cared about wasn’t it? Sherlock Holmes with his stupid games and his stupid suits and his stupid childish showing off – because that was what it was – making Moriarty put himself at risk. (Moran really hoped that Watson was giving Sherlock hell somewhere. Jesus.)

Well it wasn’t good enough, this obsession with Sherlock. It had gone too far this time, and the moment Moriarty came through that door Moran was going to show the man what he thought of him going off half-cocked and all by himself like that.
Moran had been forced to track him, like some sort of rescue animal, for three miles over rocks.

He was still dwelling on the insult implicit in that when Moriarty finally came back, practically dancing into the room. His wide, mad, smile an obscene thing that made the contents of Sebastian’s stomach curdle and kick.
‘Do you want to die then?’ He asked sourly. Might as well get straight down to it.
‘Oh Sebastian, how could you think that?’ Jim spoke airily, mad grin growing madder and wider (and more fucking annoying) as Moriarty thought about it. ‘Although it would be rather fitting don’t you think? Stalemate for Sherlock and I? A nice end to such an exciting chapter.’

Moran snapped.
‘No you fucking idiot!’ He shouted, unable to hold it in any longer. ‘You fucking mad stupid fucking idiot! No it would not be nice!’

Moriarty blinked, suddenly nervous. Moran, usually so contained, so dependable, had just gone off like a firework.
It was unsettling.
‘Sebastian.’ He soothed. ‘This isn’t like you.’
‘How would you know?’ Moran scowled, advancing as Jim retreated. ‘When have you even thought about it?’ He asked, words firing rapidly. ‘No. You just come back here young Jamie and I’ll show you what’s like me.’
And with that Moriarty’s loyal, dependable right hand man grabbed him, lifted him off the floor and shook him like a rat. ‘I’ve had enough of you and your idiot deathwishes’ Moran growled. ‘So I am going to put you over my knee until I’ve beat a bit of bloody sense into you.’
‘What? No!’ Jim kicked and wriggled. ‘Sebastian.’ He gasped. ‘Stop it. Put me down.’

Moran had half expected Jim to draw a weapon of some sort at this point. He knew for a fact that he had had three small but serviceable knives hidden in various places on his person. Perhaps Moran was just too useful to stab.
Or perhaps Jim was resigned to the fact that Moran would anticipate it. Besides the fact he was stronger. Oh so much deliciously stronger.

He had no difficulty at all bending the writhing, cursing Moriarty over his lap, holding him in place by a fistful of his soft, thick hair while the other hand made short work of his belt and buttons.
Moriarty continued to kick of course but Moran just twisted his fingers more tightly against his scalp and ordered him to behave. Then he pulled Jim's trousers down to his knees so he couldn’t kick again. It was past time his boss learnt a little respect for other people, and the fact that other people worried.

‘Is that silk?’ Moran asked, tweaking at the waistband of Jim’s boxers before pulling those down too. ‘You’re quite a hedonistic little mastermind aren’t you?’

‘Stop.’ Jim protested as Moran let go of his hair and screwed his hands up behind his back instead. He felt so exposed it was obscene. Also he couldn’t reach any of his knives now and that didn’t feel safe at all.
‘No.’ Moran replied, following up the word with a sharp slap that turned the flesh of Moriarty’s bottom red and brought a whimper to his lips.
‘Brute.’ He muttered.
‘Shut it.’

Fill: More Spanking part 2

Moriarty closed his eyes when Sebastian smacked him again. It wasn’t excessively hard, wasn’t vicious. Just sharp and angry in a controlled way that meant he could feel the hot blush of it down to his thighs.
Jim didn't know how to feel. He invariably enjoyed pain when it was other people’s but his own was scary and raw and tiring and he didn’t really understand his reactions to it.

He wanted to giggle. That was nerves. Jim always giggled when he was nervous, when he was a bit frightened. He stifled the sound and adjusted his position slightly instead, getting as comfortable as possible while draped across Moran's incredibly solid thighs. His second in command allowed him the small movement before dispensing another smack. This time a giggle did escape, high-pitched, almost a whimper.

Moran hesitated at the sound. He was still angry - blisteringly so - but he was sorry too. He was fond of Jim, and he didn't think he'd ever realised before how fragile his boss was, that amazing brain and borderline manic behaviour masked quite a delicate package. Now he was still, and quiet, and his skin looked soft, pulled taut over slender muscles. Moran was a little tempted to stroke and soothe as well as punish. He hardened his heart. He was doing this for Moriarty's own good.

‘Now I’ve got your attention.’ Moran spoke as calmly as possible without giving Jim any suggestion he might weaken. ‘I’ve got a few things to say.’
‘You know you could say them to me upright.’ Jim had been expecting another slap in response to that remark, in fact he’d been looking for it, to give at least the illusion that he had some control, but obviously Sebastian wasn’t in a mood to oblige him.
‘Just listen, alright?’

‘Alright,’ Moriarty said sulkily. ‘I’m listening.’
‘Good lad. First thing? Don’t you die on me Jamie. Don’t you dare. You understand me? Repeat it.’
‘I mustn’t die.’
‘Good. Now…’ Moriarty received another stinging slap as a sort of reward. ‘Now this bit is just as important. You. Do. Not. Do. These. Things. By Yourself.’ Moran smacked Jim’s arse between each word. 'Now say it.’
‘You thug. That bloody hurt.’
‘Say it.’ Moran was implacable.
‘I don’t do these things by myself.’
‘That’s better.’ Moran let his hand rest on Jim’s bottom for just a moment. It was too tempting not to.

Moriarty squirmed, novel, complex emotions coming to the fore. The feeling of vulnerability was unfamiliar and exciting. Moran’s hand on his arse made him feel hot and slightly dizzy. Or maybe that was his position, head down and breath shallow. At some point he had stopped thinking he was going to cut Moran’s head off when he got away, and begun arching into it a little bit with each smack.

He arched up again when Moran gave him the beating he’d promised from the beginning. The blows still measured but firm and quick and masterful. Heating and distracting him from the tears that began to run down his cheeks.
Jim went on bucking and shuddering, his natural impulsivity starting to get the better of him now, rubbing his semi erect penis against the silk waistband of his boxers despite the fact that there was nowhere near enough friction. The silk was too soft, too slippery, to be really satisfying.

Taking pity, Sebastian parted his legs a little further, so Jim could rut against his thigh. It felt so good, disgustingly good, listening to Jim’s heavy breathing and the slap of his own hand against Jim’s flesh. He was going to lose control in a minute if he didn’t stop, his own balls hanging heavily between his parted thighs, erection trapped under Moriarty’s chest.
Sebastian made himself stop, letting his hand float just an inch or so above the reddened skin instead. He could feel the heat radiating from it. It all felt so intimate.

Moriarty wriggled impatiently and Sebastian snapped out of his reverie.
‘You can get up now if you want.’ He said hoarsely.

Fill: More Spanking part 3 (end)

Jim stood slowly, rubbing at his eyes, pulling up his underwear over his erection but not his trousers, wincing at the headrush and the soreness of his skin.
‘Is that all?’ he asked Moran, wall-eyed, obviously waiting for another move. Moran didn’t know how to respond. He felt washed out. For a few glorious minutes he had felt in control, felt that his maddening, gorgeous, crazy boss wanted him. Now there was just a dull ache where his heart was supposed to be.

‘You know.’ Jim rested his hand confidingly on Moran’s shoulder and leant in close to share a secret. ‘If anyone else had done that I’d put a knife through their ribs just there.’ He jabbed with the finger of his free hand to illustrate. ‘And then twist it up like this to penetrate the heart.’ Moran didn’t even flinch. ‘You on the other hand.’ Moriarty finally pulled his trousers up purely so he could straddle Moran’s lap and mutter into his ear. ‘Are going to fuck me Colonel. Whether you like it or not.’

‘I’m going to kiss you first.’ Moran half expected Jim to object to that but he actually seemed rather charmed, fluttering his eyelashes coquettishly.

He kissed like the greedy little sinner he was, fingers wrapped around the lapels of Moran’s jacket, pulling his head down so he couldn’t back away. Not that Sebastian wanted to. When they finally drew apart they were both breathless.
Moriarty snuggled closer, his head on Moran’s chest, his right hand moving under the bigger man’s t shirt.
‘You’re lovely and hairy and big.’ He murmured. ‘Do me against a wall; I want to feel you almost lift me off my feet with it.’
‘Take your clothes off then.’ Moran suggested, mouth dry with anticipation.

Jim stripped efficiently as he crossed the room to brace himself against the plasterwork, not bothering to fold his expensive suit as he discarded it. He could always buy another. His skin was pale, so pale, all except for the red where he’d been smacked, and not for the first time this evening Moran's trousers became almost painfully tight. He thought he could even make out some actual handprints. Jesus.

He didn't know if Moriarty had a more suitable lubricant that the rifle oil he'd brought, and he wasn't going to ask. He liked the smell and feel of the oil as he cupped it in his palm, let it run down his fingers, used it to make Jim slick enough to penetrate. It reminded him of good times.
He didn’t take too long, just enough to be sure before he undid his trousers and finally relieved the pressure that had been building up in there.
‘Not taking your own clothes off Sebastian? Ooh, you savage.’ Jim murmured at the feel of the fabric against his thighs and back. Then Moran was thrusting in, letting out a long moan of pleasure, and the sting of that coupled with the hot ache of his buttocks made it impossible for Jim to say anything else coherent.

Instead it was all fractured pleas for more, and yes, and ‘Punish me, please. I’ll be good.’ Until even that was beyond him and Moriarty was almost sobbing at the sensation of pleasure and pain and Moran all round him, hands closed over his own, holding him in place, body dwarfing him, taking him, making him come and then coming in him, and then finally pulling out and leaving him weak.

Somehow Moran peeled them both off the wall and steered them to the bed, where they collapsed in a heap outside the sheets, still sticky and slippery with oil. Moriarty snuggled again automatically as Moran’s arm curled protectively over him.
‘I meant what I said you know.’ Sebastian muttered sleepily. ‘I’m only trying to take care of you.’
‘I know.’ Moriarty’s voice was slow with his own exhaustion. ‘I won’t die, I promise.’ He dropped a kiss on Moran’s chest, just above his heart. ‘I won’t die without you.’

Re: Fill: More Spanking part 3 (end)

Wow - that was crazy hot!

Re: Fill: More Spanking part 3 (end)

Thank you.

Re: Fill: More Spanking part 3 (end)

OP here:

Ngh, that was...that was so damn hot. Everything I ever wanted, more than I ever hoped for left me incoherent. I have no words, just...woah, that was hot! Might get back to you and give you a proper review once I find my words again, however I think everytime I am going to look at this fic I'll just be left speechless again.


(Oh and the last line? Might just have killed me, because it was a bit heartbreaking...and cute)

Damn it LJ, let me post my comment! Diminua deserves it!

Re: Fill: More Spanking part 3 (end)

Thanks, I'm pleased you liked it.
(I find Moriarty is sort of cute in a disturbing way)

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