Sherlock BBC Prompting Meme

"we get all sorts around here."


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

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.
+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, after the freeze 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.

WARNINGS/OFFENSIVE WORDING IN PROMPTS
Please consider warning for triggery prompts (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 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

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triggers for dubcon werewolf porn

(Anonymous)
On the night of a full moon, werewolf!John and human!Sherlock are settling downstairs for a quiet night in. John jumps on him and starts... trying to mount him. Sherlock gets really into it.

Preferably no pre-established relationship; building sexual tension or some romance is great. Maybe John does it because he senses arousal on Sherlock (still lingering from earlier perhaps), or maybe it begins as a display of dominance, or maybe it's just because he wants to, whatever.

Re: triggers for dubcon werewolf porn

(Anonymous)
Yes please. Tracking the hell out of this!

Re: triggers for dubcon werewolf porn

(Anonymous)
THIRDED?

Re: triggers for dubcon werewolf porn

(Anonymous)
Thirded.

Filler: to both OPs, since you're tracking

(Anonymous)
So I'm 600 words into what looks like a 1000+ word story and I thought I had managed to get both of your prompts in but it looks like I haven't. Are you okay with established-relationship? I just realized second OP specified otherwise and I can go back and change, but this is what came out.

Also I hope both of you are okay with John turning back into human before any actual penetration occurs (because I've gotta draw the line somewhere), but there's a great deal of wolf John/human Sherlock licking and sniffing and general wolf mating behavior and possibly orgasms before he turns back.

I don't know a lot about wolves, either, but thank Wikipedia and various animal sanctuary sites. This should be up pretty soon, unless there are any strenuous objections?

Re: Filler: to both OPs, since you're tracking

(Anonymous)
Second OP here very much likes the enticing hints you're giving, established relationship and all. Thank you for working on a fill!

Filler (Anonymous) Expand

Re: Filler: to both OPs, since you're tracking

(Anonymous)
First OP, and I'm going to be happy about any fill, so thanks!

Filler (Anonymous) Expand

Blue Moon, NC-17, pt. 1 - WARNINGS: near-bestiality

(Anonymous)
This was the fourth time Sherlock had been around for the Change, as John called it, and they had spent most of the afternoon cleaning up the flat and putting away most of the non-essentials, just in case John ended up breaking something. The Change itself wasn’t painful, or so John said, but there were always initial bursts of energy, enthusiasm for him to experience the flat from his wolf perspective, and one time John had knocked Sherlock’s microscope over after scenting blood on the slides.

Typically, John would Change, Sherlock would introduce himself to John and let himself be sniffed and licked, they would play for a while. Often they’d sneak out through a window onto the streets of the city, avoiding being seen by others. Finally, in the hours before dawn, they’d curl up on the floor in front of the sofa, John’s head on Sherlock’s lap, one of Sherlock’s hands stroking across his pelt as the other flipped through a book or a file folder from Scotland Yard. Sherlock wasn’t typically one for peace, but even he could admit it was nice, having that one night a month of a completely different kind of companionship from John.

It was interesting seeing John in wolf form, seeing which behaviors translated from his human form. John in wolf form was less aggressive than Sherlock had expected - an easygoing man seemed to make for an easygoing wolf - but one with the potential to be deadly. John was moderately affectionate when in human form but in wolf form he was nearly impossible to separate from - he kept pouncing, trying to get Sherlock to play, licking Sherlock’s exposed hands and neck and leaving shed fur all over his clothes.

Tonight’s Change seemed perfectly ordinary, as ordinary as an ex-military doctor transforming into an oversize wolf in the middle of a London flat could be. John transformed and Sherlock brought him a raw steak from the refrigerator, then when John had finished, Sherlock opened his bedroom window for the two of them to sneak out of. Instead of taking Sherlock to a deserted public park, as John usually did, this time John managed to locate a flight of stairs and bounded up onto the top of a building. They spent the night running across rooftops, John infinitely faster than Sherlock now in his wolf form, and finally made it back to the flat sometime around four.

Sherlock sat on the rug, back to the sofa, and John curled up next to him, smelling like damp fur and snuffling slightly. Sherlock scratched between his ears absently as he perused the most recent set of crime scene photographs. Nothing too challenging, and he texted Lestrade left-handed the identity of the perpetrator and where to find the murder weapon. John looked up at him with mild interest, ears perking, and Sherlock continued to pet him, hand moving over his muzzle and under his chin. John licked at his fingers, nuzzling Sherlock’s palm.

In about an hour it would be dawn, and John would be back in human form. But not quite back to normal yet - the Change always left traces behind, and John always spent the first few hours after the Change echoing the same actions, nuzzling Sherlock’s neck with a nose instead of a snout, nipping at him with blunt teeth instead of fangs. The animal aggressiveness didn’t leave him immediately, either - he would attack Sherlock, pin him down, fuck him with such force that Sherlock’s head would thud against the floor and he’d have bite marks and bruises for days. Such a change from the usually gentle John, no better or worse, but simply different. And Sherlock loved getting to know all the different sides of his John.

Blue Moon, NC-17, pt. 2 - WARNINGS: near-bestiality

(Anonymous)
This was what pervaded Sherlock’s thoughts now, having finished the case. The idea sent a spike of adrenaline through his system, and he closed his eyes and let himself indulge in the fantasy for a few seconds. He could feel himself hardening just thinking about it.

He was interrupted by a snuffle from his lap - John had perked up, and was looking at Sherlock with his brow furrowed (very much like John in human form) and his ears flattened outward. John sniffed the air and nosed at Sherlock’s torso, sniffed lower. It occurred to Sherlock that John might be able to sense his arousal - wolves’ sense of smell was greater than those of dogs’, and if there were dogs that could sniff out cancer, maybe John could tell which neurotransmitters were being released in Sherlock’s brain, which chemicals were floating in Sherlock’s bloodstream this very moment.

“Sorry,” said Sherlock, stroking John’s fur and settling back against the sofa. He was faintly embarrassed at having been caught, but it didn’t do anything to diminish his erection. In fact, the proximity of John’s muzzle to his cock, the tactile feel of John’s fur between his fingers, only seemed to strengthen it. Contact was contact, and despite his form this was still John.

Sherlock pulled back and looked straight into John’s eyes. He was no expert at reading the emotions of animals, but it seemed almost as if John was asking him a question. In response, Sherlock leaned in and pressed his face to the top of John’s head, inhaling the smell of fur and sweat and the outdoors and the faint trace of tea that lingered no matter whether John took a shower or got thrown in a skip or changed physical form completely. It reassured him that this was still the man he loved, under everything.

Sherlock leaned back, lying down in the space between the sofa and the coffee table. John watched him with mild interest, ears twitching and shaking his head slightly. Sherlock felt almost awkward, but he forged ahead, bringing his forearms up to his chest and lifting his feet off the floor so that his legs were bent in midair. It must have looked ridiculous, but he was sure John’s wolf instincts recognized his posture for what it was: submission, inviting John to pounce.

According to the literature, werewolves tended to be larger than normal wolves - John’s wolf body was nearly six feet in length, not including his impressive tail, and eminently powerful. Whereas John used his gun, his nerve, and his charm as weapons in real life, John in wolf form needed only use his body.

Sherlock felt the breath nearly knocked out of him as John pinned him down to the floor, standing over him in a way that would terrify any normal person. John did nothing but pant savagely for a few moments, then started to lick and nuzzle at Sherlock’s face. Sherlock wriggled underneath him - it was almost like play, but with more intent on both sides, and the heat coming from John’s solid body only served to turn him on further.

He set about trying to remove his clothes - of course John couldn’t help him, and it was difficult to strip while pinned underneath one-hundred-sixty pounds of wolf. He managed to shrug out of his dressing gown, and John seemed to figure out what he was doing - he stepped back slightly so Sherlock could strip off his tee-shirt and pyjama pants, making soft growling noises as he waited.

Blue Moon, NC-17, pt. 3 - WARNINGS: bestiality

(Anonymous)
Naked, face and neck wet with John’s saliva, Sherlock lay back down in the same position. John licked at his face a few more times, then insinuated himself between Sherlock’s legs. His tongue rasped roughly over Sherlock’s torso and hips, then a few times over his cock - and it felt wonderful, so delightfully wrong and not-wrong at the same time.

“John,” gasped Sherlock. “Move up, give me space - ”

He levered himself up, then under John’s watchful expression, turned over onto his hands and knees - presenting himself to John, just the way he’d read on the internet. The air from the open window hit the sweat on his back and made him shiver. He felt exposed, but no more so than he usually did, the two of them together in Sherlock’s bed, exploring each other’s bodies. This was no different.

Sherlock looked back over his shoulder, trying to make eye contact with John. John was looking slightly away, brow furrowed further as if wondering if this was the right decision - he was still John underneath it all, moral to a fault, and if Sherlock knew that this felt wrong, then John must have felt it tenfold.

“Don’t you want me?” Sherlock called back to him, pitching his voice higher. “I’m yours for the taking, John, come here.” John’s ears perked, and he padded forward hesitantly. The expression on his - face, Sherlock supposed - looked startlingly human, and Sherlock recognized John’s desire in the wolf’s eyes. He encouraged John with a smile, and wriggled his arse slightly to draw John’s attention.

Sherlock gasped at the feeling of John’s snout pushed against his arse, the colder tip of his nose surrounded by coarse fur. John sniffed several times, moving down to nose at Sherlock’s scrotum, then back up to the cleft. Sherlock felt John begin to lick him again, sloppily but in earnest. The wolf’s tongue was rougher and less precise than John’s tongue - opening him up with John’s strong hands tight on Sherlock’s arse cheeks - but it was no less effective at sending sparks through his nerves, and Sherlock moaned as he pushed back into the contact.

John let out a soft whine, too, sounding more like his normal self than any canine. Sherlock wondered what this was doing for John - whether it was turning him on despite the extreme taboo, or because of it. John’s taste in the bedroom was only mildly kinky, and even if he’d been a whip-wielding, latex-wearing fetishist, bestiality was still so far beyond the norm that Sherlock was surprised John was even indulging him at all.

Blue Moon, NC-17, pt. 4 - WARNINGS: bestiality

(Anonymous)
“John, John,” moaned Sherlock, “just fuck me already.” He was still looking over his shoulder, and he met John’s eyes again. John stiffened, shaking his head back and forth - a clear no, and Sherlock’s heart sank. “Oh, come on, John, I know you’re considerably larger like this, but believe me, I’ve taken more. I won’t break. I promise.”

John’s ears were raised and his fangs were bared - he looked almost angry, but even if Sherlock hadn’t known how to read wolf body language he would still know John was concerned. He reached an arm back to stroke John’s fur, his hand landing awkwardly near John’s face.

“It’ll be all right,” he said soothingly. “I know what I’m doing. You won’t hurt me.”

John snuffled, and brought his snout down to the small of Sherlock’s back, pressing gently, almost like a kiss. Sherlock gave him the most reassuring smile he could manage. His neck was getting tired, so he turned to face forward, and felt a large weight settle over his lower half - John had moved to stand on his hind legs, front legs grasping at Sherlock’s hips as he growled and rutted against him. His claws left scratches on Sherlock’s flanks and thighs, and with each sting of pain Sherlock felt his erection twitch.

“Come on, come on,” said Sherlock, impatient. It was awkward to be the only one talking during this encounter, but John could do little more than growl and whine, and he was taking it slowly, responding to Sherlock’s direction. He was surely afraid he’d hurt Sherlock - it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility, but Sherlock believed in hard-won pleasure, and he’d undergone worse in pursuit of far less satisfying outcomes. It wasn’t just John who loved danger, and what was more dangerous than living with a werewolf - with loving one?

Blue Moon, NC-17, pt. 5 - WARNINGS: bestiality

(Anonymous)
Sherlock flung a hand to the side and searched under the sofa for a sachet of lube they’d stashed there several weeks before. Tearing it open, he reached behind himself with one hand, prepping himself clumsily - he should have done this sooner. His hand impacted with the fur over John’s abdomen, and he stroked with a wet hand, the texture of John’s skin under his fur so different from the usual.

The first touch of John’s arousal against him made Sherlock nearly jerk away, but he was held in place by the tips of John’s claws, digging just barely into his skin. Sherlock’s breath came quick and shallow, and he quivered with anticipation - was he ready? He had to be - unlikely he’d get another chance.

Then John shuddered against him, fur bristling, and let out a long, low whine. Sherlock recognized the sound - though this time, sounding more sorrowful than he’d ever heard before - and his entire body flooded with disappointment. The living room of the flat was filled with pale grey light - it had become morning without either of them noticing, and John was starting to Change back.

Agenda pushed to the back of his mind - but not forgotten - Sherlock extricated himself and left John curled up in on himself. He reached out a steadying hand to John, stroking gently, murmuring in a comforting tone as the fur on John’s limbs became a light sprinkling of hair, as his entire body rearranged itself into the John he’d first met.

John lifted his head - his eyes were the only part of him that never changed, exactly the same shade of blue in both forms.

“Sherlock,” he said, “did I hurt you?”

Sherlock shook his head. “No,” he said honestly. “Are you all right?”

John stretched out his arms, wincing as a joint in his shoulder popped. “No worse than the usual - though I can’t exactly say the same for you.” He reached over to where Sherlock was leaning against the sofa, touched the bloody scratches on Sherlock’s hips. “I did this to you.”

“I asked you to,” answered Sherlock.

“You did,” said John, and suddenly he lunged at Sherlock, knocking them both backward onto the floor. “Are you out of your mind?” he said, voice vicious, pulling Sherlock’s hair back so hard he winced. The pain shot through his body and straight to his cock. “You were really going to - are you insane?

“Not insane,” said Sherlock. He didn’t mention that John seemed to have been going along with it - or had he been stalling, waiting for the dawn to Change him back? Sherlock couldn’t tell. He reached up to touch John’s face. “Are you disgusted with me? Revolted? I simply want all of you. I don’t want there to be any part of you I haven’t touched, any secret of yours I don’t know intimately.”

“There isn’t, you moron, you know me better than I know myself.”

Blue Moon, NC-17, pt. 6 - END - WARNINGS: rough sex

(Anonymous)
John mouthed at Sherlock’s throat, sinking his teeth into his jugular. The pain blossomed bright behind his eyelids and Sherlock’s hips jerked up to meet John’s as he let out a groan. John grabbed hold of his shoulder and flipped him over quickly so that Sherlock’s cheek was pressed against the floor, pushed two fingers roughly into his arse. Sherlock moaned louder, hands scrabbling at the wooden floor. He pushed back onto John’s fingers, wanting more. He felt the head of John’s cock at his entrance, and John entered him in one sudden movement that had them both crying out.

“You - bloody - fucking - psychopath - ” said John with each thrust, gripping Sherlock’s hips hard with his fingertips, on top of the scratches he’d made just minutes earlier.

“Sociopath,” Sherlock replied, out of breath, and raised himself up onto his hands and knees. John leaned forward, chest to Sherlock’s back, fucking him hard and proper. He scraped his nails fiercely over Sherlock’s arse, and Sherlock let himself imagine they were claws.

“Next time,” said Sherlock, “next full moon, John, please, please.” He clenched tightly around John’s cock over and over, each of John’s thrusts jerking his entire body forward. It would be the greatest gift that John could ever give to him, letting Sherlock have all of him. He would never ask John for anything more.

“God, yes, if you want it that much,” gasped John. He bit down on the back of Sherlock’s neck, hard, and Sherlock came so hard his vision whited out. He was dimly aware of John pulling out, only a moment to ache for the loss when John turned him over again and jerked himself until he was coming all over Sherlock’s chest and belly, Sherlock’s face.

They remained for a second in those positions, panting and catching their breath. Sherlock ached all over but in the good way, the kind of ache he’d be feeling for days as a pleasant memory. He raised himself on one elbow and used his other hand to smear the semen on his skin, both of theirs combined.

“You’re impossible,” said John, looking flushed and satisfied. He took hold of Sherlock’s hand and licked the fluid from his fingers, nipping at the tips with his teeth. “Is there nothing you won’t do in the name of science?”

“Not for science,” said Sherlock, “for love. And no, there isn’t.”

John looked at him contemplatively. “Next time,” he said, and leaned down, crushing their lips together. Sherlock could taste blood on his tongue - he wasn’t sure whose, but in the end, it hardly mattered.


--


To both OPs, sorry I couldn't completely get your prompts right. I do hope you like this. I had a good time writing it.

Re: triggers for dubcon werewolf porn

(Anonymous)
Is it ok if Sherlock tops?

Re: triggers for dubcon werewolf porn

(Anonymous)
Definitely, I'd love to see that! - OP

Once I Saw Him in the Moonlight 1/? (WARNING: Bestiality)

(Anonymous)
When Sherlock arrives home, there is a massive grey wolf lying on the coffee table, watching the telly with the volume turned down. His tail is long enough to touch the floor, and one large paws dangles off the end of the table.

"Don't werewolves go outside during the full moon?" Sherlock asks, even as he notices the size of the claws at the ends John's paws and the sharpness of his fangs. "You always have before."

John can't talk back, but an ear swivels in his direction, so he must be listening. Sherlock shrugs out of his coat and hangs it up, then strips off his gloves and tucks them into the inner pocket of his coat.

You wanted to stay in? No, of course not," he dismisses immediately. "Obviously, you prefer being outside, so there's something keeping you in. Me?" John snorts. "Lestrade? But he doesn't know what you are." The wolf raises a paw and makes a 'sort of' motion with it. "Not Lestrade then, but Scotland Yard," Sherlock observes. "They saw you on one of your previous excursions, and called the dog warden, so you've decided not to risk being seen again."

John yips agreement, but growls when Sherlock reaches for the remote to the telly. Sherlock freezes, some instinctual part of him shouting, predator, but when his fear becomes apparent - and wolves can detect fear, so it must be obvious - the wolf licks his hand with an apologetic whine.

It - he, because he's John - rolls onto his back, baring his throat and belly. Sherlock wonders if it's a sign of submission in werewolves as it is in dogs. John makes a low, whining noise, jaw half-open, ears perked, head upside-down on the table. He seems almost beckoning, and when Sherlock frowns at him in confusion, his tail wags deliberately.

The invitation is obvious, so Sherlock brings his hand, very cautiously, to John's belly and gives it a tentative rub. He's encouraged when he doesn't pull back a bloody stump. John's fur is coarse and several inches thick. He digs his fingers in deeper, enough to reach the softer undercoat and scrape his fingernails lightly against the skin.

John enjoys having his abdomen scratched.

His tongue lolls out the side of his mouth and his tail wags, hard enough to feel as it thumps against his thighs. Sherlock finds himself wondering, idly, if the human John likes to be touched there as well, or if he'd would be allowed to touch John even when he wasn't a wolf acting like a particularly friendly dog.

He wonders if John would enjoy it as much then as he seems to be enjoying it now.

He seems to be enjoying it rather a lot, actually, as his prick, longer and thicker than a human's, emerges proudly from its sheath.

Sherlock pretends he doesn't notice but he does, of course. It's hardly something he'd miss, not when he has both hands buried deep in John's fur, fingers scratching firmly against his skin. He tries to look away, but his eyes keep drifting back to it, drawn by curiosity. He's never seen a canine penis before, except in passing, and his fingers itch to examine it.

Then John shifts and twists with a low whine. His red prick slides wetly along the palm of Sherlock's hand and Sherlock finds his fingers closing around it automatically, catching and wrapping loosely around his prick.

As soon as he realizes what he'd done, albeit unintentionally, Sherlock jerks his hands away.

"I - sorry," he manages to say, face growing hot with embarrassment. His trousers are too tight, and his heart pounds quickly enough for him to notice it. God only knows what John's noticed about him.

John rolls back onto his paws when Sherlock stands up. His head is on a level with Sherlock's waist, putting him level with the erection obviously tenting Sherlock's trousers. He brings his nose towards Sherlock's groin, ears perked up, and Sherlock jerks back.

"John," he says sharply. John looks at him, then presses his muzzle against Sherlock's groin. It's reflex for Sherlock to cuff John across the face, and for a second, Sherlock's genuinely nervous when John - when the massive wolf he just hit in the face - goes dangerously still.

But John backs away, head lowered and ears flat against his head.

For lack of a better solution, Sherlock leaves the flat and doesn't come back until morning.

Re: Once I Saw Him in the Moonlight 1/? (WARNING: Bestiality)

(Anonymous)
It's going to be awkward in the morning.

Please continue.

Re: Once I Saw Him in the Moonlight 1/? (WARNING: Bestiality)

(Anonymous)
Great beginning, can't wait to read more of this!

Re: Once I Saw Him in the Moonlight 1/? (WARNING: Bestiality)

(Anonymous)
This is AWESOME. Sherlock domming John when John is a massive killer wolf is just nnghhhhhh.

Re: Once I Saw Him in the Moonlight 1/? (WARNING: Bestiality)

(Anonymous)
Holy damn, I am so eager for more, I can't even put into words (and I hope so very very much that you don't shy away from the bestiality).

Re: Once I Saw Him in the Moonlight 1/? (WARNING: Bestiality)

(Anonymous)
OP here, very much looking forward to more. I like how Sherlock's natural curiosity gets him into a wonderfully awkward situation. I also like the nearly-one-sided conversation as Sherlock deducts why John's in on the full moon, giving them the setting of relaxed familiarity before slipping into new territory. Looking forward to more!

Re: Once I Saw Him in the Moonlight 1/? (WARNING: Bestiality)

(Anonymous)
This is already beyond brilliant.

Once I Saw Him in the Moonlight 2/?

(Anonymous)

John wakes up in his bed, muscles still comfortably sore from his transformation, and wanders down to get some breakfast before heading in to work. Sherlock has already moved the coffee table back to its normal position and made him a slice of toast with bacon.

"Thanks," he says around a mouthful, and uses his bare hands to grab a piece of bacon from the plate.

"You didn't go out last night," Sherlock says, looking at him carefully. Trying to figure out what John remembers? Trying to figure out if last night meant John was interested in him? Trying to figure out the line of separation between wolf and man?

Well, whatever he's doing, it's too early for John to care. He hadn't managed to sleep until after he'd changed back, and three hours of sleep after a day as a human and a night as a wolf is not nearly enough. "No," John agrees, and grabs the second piece of bacon, polishing it off as quickly as he'd finished the first. He leaves the toast half-eaten after giving it another halfhearted nibble.

"Lestrade mentioned a couple weeks ago that something's been spooking stray dogs in the city, and that the dog warden's been looking for the cause, so..." He shrugs. He doesn't want to spend his night being chased by the dog warden, not when he can't fight back. "I figured it'd be best if I stayed home."

"Hmm," Sherlock murmurs, still looking at him narrowly.

John opens the fridge. "Do you mind if I finish off the rest of the bacon? I'll buy more on my way home."

"There's an entire package left."

"I know."

*~*~*

When John gets home from work with the shopping, Sherlock is home too.

"The sun sets in an hour," he says. "You're staying in again, I assume."

John nods. "It's safer anyway," he says. "I don't mind much, but it's boring." Taking a risk, he steals a glance at Sherlock out of the corner of his eyes, and adds, "It helped that you were there."

John can smell the sudden rise of Sherlock's nervousness, though none of it shows in his body language. He thinks. It's hard to tell, because today's the second night, the strongest night of the full moon, and he keeps forgetting that people are humans and follow different rules.

The moon's too close. If John had been living alone, he'd have spent the evening lying naked in his bed, listening to music or watching the telly. But Sherlock's a stronger draw than that, forcing him clothed and upright until the very last minute, when the bones begin to crack and twist beneath his skin.

"Really?" Sherlock asks, brightening slightly. "Did it?"

John quirks a grin at him. The wolf under his skin hums with contentment. "Of course. Did you have any plans for tonight?"

*~*~*

John lies on the sofa while Sherlock checks his email, eyes closed. Sherlock would assume he were asleep, if not for the anticipation clearly visible in his shoulders. He stands abruptly several minutes before the moon rises, and doesn't seem to remember Sherlock until he's at the foot of the stairs. His shirt is pulled half-off, revealing a smooth, tanned strip of skin that arrests Sherlock's gaze.

He looks over his shoulder at Sherlock, and Sherlock drags his gaze up to meet his eyes. "I need to change now," he says, stating the obvious.

"Right, of course," Sherlock says, and holds John eyes until he turns around again, pulling the shirt off in a practiced, smooth motion that reveals his bare back and the grace of his movements. He watches until John disappears from his line of sight.

Once I Saw Him in the Moonlight 2/? (WARNING: NC-17, Bestiality)

(Anonymous)
John reappears roughly ten minutes later, and by then, Sherlock has moved to take his vacant position on the sofa. It'd been warm when he'd lain down, and still smells faintly of John. He's a large wolf - larger than wolves are meant to get, but at an estimate, Sherlock would put him at roughly the same mass as his human form.

Good to know, that lycanthropy respects the law of conservation of energy.

"John," he murmurs, and sits up when the wolf pads, with the silence and grace of a deadly predator, to greet him at the sofa. He offers John a hand to sniff and John does so obligingly, but with a patient, amused air about him, as if to say, I'm doing this for your benefit. His nose is cold and tickles Sherlock's palm.

Aside from several minutes the night before, Sherlock's never been this close to John's lupine form, and he's struck by the sheer beauty of it. His fur is grey, darker along his back than the sides, with patches of lighter fur around his ears. His eyes are are a deep shade of gold, but Sherlock can spot streaks of his normal blue-grey shade as well, when he angles his head correctly under the light.

"Beautiful," he says. John wags his tail.

He isn't quite sure what John wants from him, exactly, except for him to keep the wolf company during the full moon. But for a werewolf, he's rather tame, content to lie on the floor on top of Sherlock's feet for several minutes until Sherlock's the one who's bored.

Sherlock slides onto the ground. It puts John's head at about the same level as his own, and the wolf sniffs at his cheek, then licks it. He's peaceful enough, tame enough, that Sherlock buries one of his hands in the fur behind John's ears and scratches.

"What do you normally do on a full moon?" he asks, as John's head drops to his shoulder and nuzzles his throat. He should feel afraid - if it were anyone else, if it weren't John - he would be. But John's a warm,furry weight on his shoulder and pressed bodily against his arm, sniffing and rubbing at Sherlock's neck gently enough that the touch tickles and makes him laugh. "Chase rabbits? Patrol your territory? Do werewolves even have territory?"

John shakes his head. He licks Sherlock's throat, wet tongue stroking from the base of his throat to the bottom of his cheek. It feels good, sending a shock of arousal straight to his groin, reminding him of the night before, of John's cock, long and hard against his fingers.

Part of him has been thinking about it all day, wondering if John knew what he'd done, and if so, if he wanted to do it again. Wondering if he wanted to do it again, wanted to wrap his fingers around John's prick, or open his trousers and feel John's tongue on his prick.

As if John could sense his thoughts, he sniffs again. He presses the wet tip of his nose to the hollow at the base of his throat, where Sherlock's left the top buttons of his shirt undone. The cold touch makes Sherlock squirm. And he - he wants -

"John," he says, feeling breathless and lightheaded from the force of his desire, from his thoughts, from the idea that yes, yes, he could have this, have John, furred and fanged but still John.

Once I Saw Him in the Moonlight 4/? (WARNING: NC17, Bestiality)

(Anonymous)


Tangled in John's fur as it is, his hand follows as John ducks his head between Sherlock's upraised knees, pressing his snout to Sherlock's groin with clear intent. Sherlock moans, letting his legs part further. It gives John the space to rub his cheek against Sherlock's erection, and even through the fabric of his trousers he can tell it feels different, the softness of fur instead of skin.

John noses against his zip with an eager whine, but can't quite manage to manipulate it without using teeth, so with shaking hands, Sherlock pulls down his zip and pushes down his pants, freeing his prick. He has a split-second to register the chill of the night air, a split-second to wonder if he's making a mistake, before John's tongue is there, warm and wet and powerful.

He's had a mouth on his prick before, felt the gentle suction and warm press of a tongue against his flesh. But this feels entirely different, in so many ways - more heat, more pressure, the intermittent chill of John's wet nose brushing against his groin, and the foreign sensation of fur - coarse but still fluffy - against his bare skin. It is unbearably erotic, the image of John - the wolf - between his legs, rubbing and licking and there.

"John," Sherlock says again, because it is John, the same John who growls halfheartedly at Sherlock when Sherlock takes food from his plate, who has a gun but is more deadly with his bare hands, and who will follow him, always, on his cases. "Yes, John, please," he moans, as John's tongue swipes against the underside of his prick with quick, sure strokes,.

He comes quickly, spilling semen on his belly and the hem of his shirt, fisting his hands in John's fur in a way that must be painful. John licks him clean, wiping away all traces of his release, more gently now that Sherlock's prick is oversensitive in the aftermath of his orgasm.

When he's done, he looks Sherlock in the eyes, warm and affectionate, and rubs their cheeks together. Sherlock strokes his hand down John's back, repeating the motion several times when John makes a low crooning noise. He hesitates. "Do - do you want me to -"

He doesn't have to get the question fully out before John is flopping eagerly onto his side, lying on Sherlock's legs and exposing his prick, fully extended from its sheath. Sherlock wraps his fingers loosely around it, stroking from base to tip. But Sherlock's never actually had an interest in wolves before this, and from the way John shifts, twisting his head to lick where Sherlock's touching him, he has a feeling his inexperience is obvious.

"Sorry," he mutters, frowning, and tries again. When that doesn't work - when the rasp of his thumb over the tip of John's prick makes him whine and twist away, Sherlock gets up and does what seems like the next logical step.

He consults Google.

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