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Five Acts meme

banner courtesy of brighteyedjill; thanks to ariadnes_string for alerting me to the start of Round Six!

I promised myself I would do this meme the next time it happened...

- Post a list of five favourite kinks/acts or themes in your journal. At the bottom, add what fandoms/pairings you're interested in.

- Comment to the signup post with a link to your post.

- Browse the master list to see others' acts. Write something and post it in a comment on their journal. Other people might write something for you, too! (nb: you don’t have to sign up to write fic!).


1. Quiet: having to be quiet during sex, especially if one partner is trying to make it harder for the other to be quiet.

2. Voyeurism and vision themes (e.g. character A watches character B perform/masturbate; eye contact, especially as flirting; establishing authority with a look)

3. Writing (love letters or notes; e-mail and chat; poetry; storytelling; tracing words or figures on skin, or writing, as with an inkbrush)

4. Semi-public sex: *points at banner* - need I say more? Lestrade's desk does not have to be involved, but it seems a pity to waste it.

5. Delay: can be orgasm delay or drawn-out UST - resolution preferred in both cases.

Fandoms & Pairings

BBC Sherlock: Sherlock/John, Sherlock/Lestrade, John/Lestrade, Sherlock/John/Lestrade, Anthea/Ella; plus crossover pairing of Anthea/ACD's Irene

X-Men: First Class: Erik/Charles; crossovers also possible with one of these and another character played by James McAvoy or Michael Fassbender

X-Men and X2: Magneto/Professor X

Cabin Pressure: Douglas/Martin

Blackpool: Ripley Holden/Peter Carlisle


More Than I Can Stand: - X-Men: First Class, Charles/Erik, claiming or establishing ownership

Light Fantastic: Sherlock, Sherlock/John, begging/orgasm delay


The Lady Doth Protest Too Much by emerald_embers

Desk Duty by archea2

Walk All Over You by greenhoodloxley

NSFW by marysutherland

Words To Steal Your Heart Away by 2ndskin



( 41 comments — Leave a comment )
Apr. 14th, 2012 05:19 am (UTC)
Jesus, woman. I could write something for all five right now. Sadly, sadly, sadly--all would include the phrase "Lestrade's thick fingers" and "Greg growled and cursed." God in heaven, I'm dull. I love your kinks and they make me happy. And what else is that desk good for anyway? Indeed.
Apr. 14th, 2012 06:57 am (UTC)
thank you sweetie! I am mentally filling in the blanks between those phrases and purring happily at the results...
Apr. 14th, 2012 05:55 am (UTC)
Oh my gosh, FINALLY, someone else who ships Ripley/Carlisle! There isn't enough written about them. But there's such tension in the show!
Apr. 14th, 2012 06:04 am (UTC)
ooh - can I tempt you with them? surely THESE BOOTS... must lead somewhere?
Apr. 14th, 2012 07:01 am (UTC)
Gah, I've never thought about it. *bites lip*



Is there a particular one of your acts that you would like to see with them?
Apr. 14th, 2012 07:07 am (UTC)
I'm thinking semi-public sex...but...
Apr. 14th, 2012 07:08 am (UTC)
ALSO GOOD. and very plausible...

Edited at 2012-04-14 07:09 am (UTC)
Apr. 14th, 2012 07:08 am (UTC)
I think there are distinct possibilities with voyeurism/vision for those two...

*looks hopeful*
Apr. 14th, 2012 07:10 am (UTC)
Maybe I can COMBINE. *runs off to the drawing/writing board*
Apr. 14th, 2012 01:14 pm (UTC)
*squees in anticipation*

Apr. 15th, 2012 10:27 pm (UTC)
Walk All Over You part 1/3
OKAY, definitely sort of a combination of two acts here. Hope you like it.

“See you later, Dad.” Danny heads out the back.

“Yeah, later.”

Just when Ripley thinks maybe he'll finally be able to get some work done, the door's swinging open again and Carlisle's back, swaggering over to him. “Actually, I had a few more questions.”

He pauses, looking around the arcade briefly. Ripley sees his moment and presses his advantage. This slim, Scottish copper, oh, he's pliable but difficult. Ripley pushes him across the floor up against the nearest game console. Nudging his knee between Carlise's legs, Ripley leans in.

“Just what are you...” Carlise starts to open his mouth.

Ripley gives him a look and Carlisle shuts it abruptly, blinking up at him. God, that kind of power. Ripley misses it. The pure rush of it fair gives him a hard-on. Which he's sure the copper can can tell from the eyebrow he's raising at Ripley now.

“Just keep your mouth shut, you.” Ripley growls. He takes a quick look around. The arcade is mostly deserted. There are a few people here and there, all intent on the screens in front of them.

He grabs Carlisle by the collar and hauls him around behind the nearest game. There. They could still be seen if anyone ventured too close, but the likelihood of it is less. Ripley can feel his pulse relax slightly, even as he notices the copper's own accelerate.

“Like that, do you?” He murmurs. “Being pushed around by a bigger bloke, eh?” It's not surprising.

“Well, I hardly think that's the main cause of attraction here.” Carlisle says, licking his lips. Damn the man. Ripley wants him to bend him over the nearest console and fuck him ragged.

Instead he takes a deep breath. “What're you trying to say?”

“What I'm saying is....you're the one who brought me over here. If anyone has something to hide, it's you?” Carlise grins up at him insolently.

Abruptly, Ripley's had enough. “Is that right?”


He shoves the detective hard against the console. “You come into my establishment, with your fancy ways and expect me to dance to your tune?” Ripley snorts with derision. “Not bloody likely. If anyone's dancing to anyone's tune in here, inspector... It's you...to mine.”
Apr. 15th, 2012 10:30 pm (UTC)
Walk All Over You part 2/3

“And what exactly makes you say that?” Carlisle's eyes move from Ripley's face to his body, taking in his stance, everything, at a quick glance.

“I think I know how you like it to be played.” Ripley says roughly.

“You could be wrong.” Carlisle states.

“Yeah, but I'm not, am I?” Ripley takes that moment to slip his hand between the detective's legs. Just for a wee moment. Just enough to cup him and let the man know that he's had his bits pressed. “You like that, eh? Like being taken advantage of? Well, tough shit.” He stepped back.

“Didn't think you were the type to back down, Holden.”

“Oh, I'm not.” Ripley shakes his head. He's still keeping an eye on all the near customers in the vicinity. So far no one has a bloody clue to what's going on in the corner of his arcade. And that's the way Ripley prefers it.

“Stick your hand down your trousers.”


“You heard.”

There's a moment of hesitation during which Peter Carlisle thinks about it...and then does it...his long slender hand moves down inside the waistband of his trousers. Ripley follows the movement avidly.

“What you're waiting for?” He growls at last. “Instructions? Never wanked yourself off before, inspector?”

“Yeah. Well...” Carlisle licks his lips and waits.
Apr. 15th, 2012 10:32 pm (UTC)
Walk All Over You part 3/3
“Oh.” Ripley gets it then. His tune. “Slowly. Just a bit of pressure, like a dancer's pressing on your palm.”

“Sorry?” Carlisle looks at him bewildered. At that, Ripley simply gives up.

“Stroke yourself, nice and easy, with a bit of tension but still a tiny bit of give.”

“Ahh.” Carlisle nods his head. That he gets. His hand moves in his trousers as Ripley watches unimpressed.

“That's not...” He leans in, unfastening the man's trousers easily, pulling them down to his thighs. Carlisle's thin white shorts are not quite what Ripley expected, but the tip of the man's cock, jutting out from the gap between them is exactly what he expected.

“Squeeze the head gently then. Just a bit of a rub.”

Carlisle raises his eyebrow again, but he does it. His fingers rubbing slowly over the head of his cock as his eyes stay focused on Ripley's.

“Spread your legs a bit more.” Ripley directs. He likes a bit of a show and Carlisle's giving him one at least, leaning insolently against the console as he strokes himself lazily. Ripley folds his arms across his chest. “Is that the best you got?”

Carlisle pauses. “Look,”

“Stick out your hand.”

Slowly Carlisle holds out his hand and Ripley spits in the center of his palm. “There. Now do it.”

There's a dull red flush flooding Carlisle's ears as he applies Ripley's saliva to his cock. He moves a little faster now, fingers tightening as he strokes. His lips part in concentration, the tip of his tongue protruding slightly.

Just as he's getting close, panting slightly, hand moving quicker in anticipation, Ripley drawls, “Slow it down, eh, it's not a bloody competition.”

Carlisle glares at him, but his pace slackens.

Ripley stands there, just smirking at him. He's not lost his touch at any rate. There's something appealing about the copper like this, all splayed open for him, thighs open, his long coat shielding him on either side.

“Pull your coat open more.”

Carlise shoves each lapel open wider with his free hand. “Anything else you want?”

“Yeah...” Ripley cocks his head, like he's thinking about it. “You. On your knees. That's how I want to see you come.” He'd like to see more than that, but it'll do for now.

Carlisle licks his lips, swallows, and slowly lowers himself to his knees.

Ripley doesn't give him any more instruction that. He slips his hands in his pockets and just watches. Carlise's so close, Ripley can taste it. The strain on the man's face as he works his cock, face upturned to Ripley.

Only when he comes, does Carlise turn his face away, toward the collar of his coat.

Ripley cracks his gum loudly. “Not bad...but it needs a little work before I'd put you on a stage.”

Carlise snorts. Wiping his hand casually on the inside of his trousers, he pulls them up and stands. “Thanks for the tip.”

“Any time.” Ripley stands there, still watching as Carlisle finally walks away. This time he doesn't come back.
Apr. 15th, 2012 10:36 pm (UTC)
Re: Walk All Over You part 3/3
Aaaand, I meant to put this at the start. Sorry!

Blackpool: Ripley Holden/Peter Carlisle - Voyeurism and vision themes/Semi-public sex.
Apr. 15th, 2012 11:06 pm (UTC)
Re: Walk All Over You part 3/3
*brain fizzles and short-circuits*

wow. ahem.

*waits for coherent thought to return*

I am so glad I put this fandom and pairing on my list! thank you very much - this is terrific, all the way from the title to the ending.

*opens a window to let in some cool air*
Apr. 18th, 2012 03:29 am (UTC)
Re: Walk All Over You part 3/3
Yay! I'm glad you like!

Maybe this will bring the show/pairing to more attention so more people could write them because there needs to be more Blackpool fic in the world.
Apr. 18th, 2012 09:09 am (UTC)
Re: Walk All Over You part 3/3
there really does! this is a VERY GOOD START...

*fans self again*
Apr. 14th, 2012 06:27 am (UTC)
The Lady Doth Protest Too Much - X-Men: First Class, Erik/Charles, quiet
Charles loathes camping. Erik isn't sure if it's a side-effect of being brought up by the sort of people who could buy hotels, nevermind hotel rooms, or if it's because camping by its very nature is not a clean and tidy activity, but Charles sulks through every moment of it.

The children are far more enthusiastic about sleeping in tents, largely because they're doing very little sleeping; almost as soon as Charles called "Lights out!", the rustle of fabric and soft crushing noises of grass and gravel started up. Erik has to hold Charles tight with one arm around his waist to stop him from climbing out of their tent as soon as he hears Raven's voice in amongst the whispers of the children who are up and moving about, reminding him that she has every right to her freedom even if she is his little sister, and moreover, that she's too old for Charles to be protecting her virtue.

Besides, she's more sensible in ways than her big brother.

Fifteen minutes of tossing, turning and muttering from Charles later, Erik decides to take the matter of shutting him up into his own hands. Quite literally, at that; Charles makes a rather less than dignified squawk at first, given Erik cuts to the chase by palming Charles' cock through his pyjama pants without any prior warning.

"Erik -"

Erik cuts Charles off instantly with a quick, almost chaste kiss, before laughing despite himself. "Don't forget, the children can hear everything."

"I hate you," Charles replies, but quietens any doubts Erik might have had about taking action by leaning over and kissing him with a kiss that very much isn't chaste, closing his hand over Erik's and guiding it.

Charles is normally rather more vocal, but there aren't thick walls or thick pillows to make the acoustics safe while they're in their tent, so Erik revels in hearing every frustrated, strangled whine as Charles bucks up into his hand. A rather pleasant benefit of having such an encounter late at night is that Charles' breath still smells clean, else being face-to-face with him could have unfortunate side-effects.

I heard that, Charles says, and Erik laughs again before swallowing when Charles rather vengefully sends Erik a clear picture of exactly what Erik's hand feels like around Charles' cock.

Get out of my mind, Erik replies, reluctantly rather than angrily for once, and he can sense Charles hesitating before he pushes back with a threat of, Or I'll leave you to finish.

Spoilsport, Charles says, but Erik feels him pull away, and it's an oddly lonely feeling until Charles kisses him again. It's almost irritating that Charles knows him so well, but the fact that Charles is leaking all over Erik's hand and stifling moans against Erik's lips does take away any real chance to feel annoyed.

Charles' mouth opens wide when he finally comes, but he doesn't make a sound, eyes squeezed shut as if he's pained and his whole body shuddering with it, utterly beautiful as he falls apart under Erik's touch. "Fuck," Erik breathes despite himself, kissing Charles' soft, slack lips as he pulls his hand back, wiping it clean on his shorts.

"Language," Charles replies, soft and sleepy, settling down and staying settled at last.

In the morning, Charles resumes complaining about camping as they pack up their tent and check for any visible damage the children did during the night, finding only several discarded bottles much to everyone's relief, but Erik smiles to himself throughout. Charles can glare at him all he likes; Erik knows perfectly well how to quieten Charles' protests, it would seem, so long as he can do so out of sight.

But not necessarily out of hearing.
Apr. 14th, 2012 06:40 am (UTC)
Re: The Lady Doth Protest Too Much - X-Men: First Class, Erik/Charles, quiet
eeeeeeeeeee!!!! *bounces excitedly*

thank you so much - this is lovely! I love Charles's sulking and all of his stifled noises, and the progress of Erik's different reactions - and the silent orgasm is gorgeous. ♥
Apr. 14th, 2012 06:41 am (UTC)
Re: The Lady Doth Protest Too Much - X-Men: First Class, Erik/Charles, quiet
UNF UNF and also YES. <3
Apr. 14th, 2012 09:35 am (UTC)
Jesus, girl. Don't tempt me in writing Sherlock-bends-Lestrade-over-his-desk-among-the-sweet-sweet-rustle-of-paperwork-flying-and-delays-his-orgasm-to-have-him-make-all-sorts-of-half-shushed-delicious-little-throat-moans-while-using-his-desk-pens-to-write-a-tickling-love-letter-in-French-on-his-naked-back.

I have WIPs on the run, dash it.

(Hope someone else will, though.)
Apr. 14th, 2012 11:18 am (UTC)
PWP = Porn While Prompting?

*joins tomsmum in asking what it would take to tempt you*

*brain explodes from combination of kinks + Sherlock/Lestrade*
Apr. 14th, 2012 03:37 pm (UTC)
Desk Duty (1/2) - BBC Sherlock - NC-17 - Sherlock/Lestrade
(Ah, luv, what I wouldn't write for you. Still, beware: I'm a lousy porn writer.)

If he could remember the word, Greg would think desecration and feel an extra thrill humming along his nerves. As he is - naked to the knees, pants and trou dropped to his ankles, hands splayed on the cold surface of his desk - words are no longer his division. Though the slick, silent demon behind him, forcing him to part his thighs even wider with a mere slap of his hand, seems resolved to prove him wrong.

"If you want it, Greg, you'll have to ask for it."

" - ck you..."

Sherlock's laughter is low and moist, like the finger teasing at Greg's hole. "Wrong premises, Inspector. Why am I not surprised?"

Wrong, wrong. Everything is wrong about this even if the door is locked, and the hour is late, and, fuck, there's the window to Donovan's cubhole of an office. She's out. Is she? The blood is pounding into his head, bent so low all he can see is the dark bulk of the office phone, yet there's something deliciously, wickedly troubling at the idea of anyone chancing upon them, that makes his mouth go dry and his cock, still untouched, twitch with a pulse of his own. And now Sherlock wants him to —

"Loud and clear, Detective Inspector."

"Jesus!" Sherlock's fingers have started a light tattoo along his taint. "Yes, fuck, ah. Please. Sherlock. Please, I, I. Please, fuck, now, fuck me now, oh, oh. On my - desk. Please..." It can't be loud, Greg can't just risk the chance, but it's clear enough, even as Sherlock's fingers stroke his sac almost tenderly before retracing their dance to push into him slowly, one after the other, and Greg's whimper turns to a pleading gasp when they recede.

"This is how I love you." Sherlock's voice is thickening honey, dark and dripping from a knife-edge, straight into Greg's ear as he adjusts their bodies for the thrust. "Tousled, upended and dizzy, your clothes wrecked, ready for me to run and ride, ride every pulse out of you, every breath, to ride the living soul out of you, Gregory Lestrade."

"Won't - happen." Greg is breathless already, one slippery hand sending a batch of papers join the flotsam on the floor. Personnel's extensive statistics for the - oh, fuck. The first hard jolt always makes it straight to his guts, a white-hot promise to leave him riven, and filled, and undone. The blood babbles in his ears. No, not the blood. Oh god, is this his voice? Sherlock's words cut through the haze, sharp and clear.

"I said no hands, Greg. Unless you don't want mine on you."

He hasn't realized he was leaning on one elbow now, trying to gag his mouth. It's no use anyway, though he tries to keep it as low as he can, letting all sorts of little sounds spill over when Sherlock flicks his tongue out, then sucks at the vulnerable point at the base of his neck. He can no longer hear anything but his breath, wet and hurried, and the mounting pleas under his breath, for Sherlock to go deeper, faster, when suddenly the rhythm breaks.

"Wha-what... what are you..." Greg wets his lips. "'Sherlock, are you out to kill me?"

"Shh." Sherlock wraps an arm around his chest for a brief, astounding hug. "You're going to come. But you've just said something that I - want to answer."

[Writing the rest tonight, promise.]

Edited at 2012-04-14 03:40 pm (UTC)
(Deleted comment)
Apr. 15th, 2012 01:09 am (UTC)
Re: Desk Duty (1/2) - BBC Sherlock - NC-17 - Sherlock/Lestrade
Thank you so much, I'm glad this is working for you! I've just posted the final part.
Apr. 14th, 2012 09:07 pm (UTC)
Re: Desk Duty (1/2) - BBC Sherlock - NC-17 - Sherlock/Lestrade
*collapses in a heap, overcome by scorching hot S/L desk!sex and SUSPENSE*



thank you very much indeed!

Apr. 15th, 2012 01:11 am (UTC)
Re: Desk Duty (1/2) - BBC Sherlock - NC-17 - Sherlock/Lestrade
Part 2 posted at last! Thanks for your sweet comment, "hot" from you means a lot!
Apr. 15th, 2012 01:06 am (UTC)
Desk Duty (2/2) - BBC Sherlock - NC-17 - Sherlock/Lestrade

He is thrusting on, but on a slower, nearly languid pace that has Greg opening and rutting back against him on instinct. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Sherlock’s hand steal up on the desk and close – not on his, as he thought, but on the one fine-tip felt pen that hasn’t rolled overboard with its peers. The thin pop of the lid coming off is enough to clue him in, seconds before the fibre tip presses against his bare shoulder.

"Sweat," he protests feebly, even as Sherlock’s one-handed grip on his hip tightens and the languid, constant thrusts pick a firmer pace. "Won’t – ah – hold."

"Ne bouge pas." Sherlock’s voice is hardly different for the change of language, but his lower tones sound crisper, the French r producing a friction of its own that makes Lestrade shiver. He knows what the shift entails, an intimacy that Sherlock is only now beginning to admit, tapping into six years of instant wonder and hesitant trust (and grief, and silence, and silent absolution) but cannot yet speak out.

He tries to follow the twirls and twists of the pen along his flesh, raising a but the ether-like scent and his own rush of endorphins are decoying him into a vortex of sensation. The pen dips into a full stop in the runnel of his back, only to start again immediately. "Read it to me," Lestrade mrmurs, eyes closed.

Sherlock’s hand never pauses in its meanders, timing the letters to his thrusts, but his voice is longer in coming. "... et j’aime que mon sexe... se glisse... au creux de tes cuisses.... The hand clasping Greg’s hip uncurls, slides forth to wrap itself around his sex. ... ton odeur me fait bander, ta sueur, ta confiance... tes cheveux sous mes lèvres...." Greg moans, both for the words and the fast, tight caresses that can’t be told apart from the words. The pen grazes his flesh, his spine, rousing a trail of nerves at the end of its tip as Sherlock carries on, his tones cracked and urgent. "... personne avant toi... et personne d’autre que moi... maintenant, tu m’entends, vite... Greg, now!"

He feels, more than he hears, the felt pen drop as Sherlock grabs his hips, leans down and pretty much seals himself to Greg, bucking into him in hard, uncoordinated strokes and hitting Greg’s sweet, secret spot at every thrust.

Greg thinks hazily that it should be his turn to tell Sherlock what he always keeps for himself. How he loves Sherlock’s cock for instance, long and whippy, filling him to the brim, iron and velvet, but he can no longer speak, can only drip for Sherlock as his sex sobs out under him and his orgasm tears through the two of them, on and on and on and on, until the only sensation left is that of Sherlock’s hand on his mouth.

Greg tries to kiss the hand away and, when Sherlock doesn’t show any sign of moving on, adds a hint of teeth. It’s going to be hard enough stretching up, and he needs every breath he can spare. Sherlock takes the hint reluctantly, but consents to part bodies, a little awkwardly as Greg turns to appraise him.

Dark hair mussed wild and damp. White shirt a sorry mess, creased out of all recognizable shape and stained black across its front. Greg spares a twinge of regret for his naked back, not only because, yeah, stretching is martyr just now, but because he knows their embrace and his own sweat have irrevocably ruined Sherlock’s cri du cœur, heart speaking out that it, too, is made of flesh.

But Sherlock is smiling and the smile makes the scene all right, even the light in Donovan’s office – sod it, they remembered the stores – even the wreck of his desk and the fact that his office probably needs a solid dose of fumigation before he can let anyone in again.

"You’re a rare sight, y’know that?" Lestrade asks, and becomes aware that this is exactly what Sherlock is, has been from the first, and will be to him as long as his all too human heart remains their go-between.

There’s a visible footprint on personnel’s extensive statistics, someone has taken to rapping at the door and Lestrade can sense a sore throat on the way. But nothing is of consequence, nothing but Sherlock’s smile as he picks up his jacket and answers, "To quote John Watson’s bedside philosopher - for your eyes only, Inspector. For your eyes only."
Apr. 15th, 2012 01:40 am (UTC)
Aaaand the subtitles for the excerpts of Sherlock's Pillow Book erotica
"Ne bouge pas" = Don't move

"... et j’aime que mon sexe... se glisse... au creux de tes cuisses...." = and I love how my sex... will take shelter... in the crook of your thighs...

" ... ton odeur me fait bander, ta sueur, ta confiance... tes cheveux sous mes lèvres...." = you scent makes me hard, your sweat, your trust... your hair against my lips...

"... personne avant toi... et personne d’autre que moi... maintenant, tu m’entends, vite..." = nobody before you... and nobody yours but me... now, do you hear me, quick...
Apr. 15th, 2012 07:18 am (UTC)
Re: Aaaand the subtitles for the excerpts of Sherlock's Pillow Book erotica
thank you for the subtitles as well - lovely!
Apr. 15th, 2012 07:17 am (UTC)
*faints dead away*

oh my goodness, this is gorgeous. I love the poignancy of that intimacy between them, and all the sensual details and the letter and the French and Sherlock's wrecked shirt, and the ending, with the world about to come back in again.

thank you so much!
Apr. 15th, 2012 08:53 am (UTC)
Re: hnnnggghhhhh
Thanks, dear! That was my porn baptism of fire, thanks for helping me cross the line into NC-17!

Is it all right if I repost the story on my LJ btw? It's the first I've seen this meme and now I feel like writing fever erotica for ariadne_strings and I don't want to break a rule or something.
Apr. 15th, 2012 06:04 pm (UTC)
Re: hnnnggghhhhh
I can hardly believe it's your first NC-17 - but I hope very much it won't be your last!

yes, please do post the story on your LJ - I hope you'll cross-post it to the comms as well, and make lots more people hot and bothered very happy.

I hope you'll write that fever erotica for ariadnes_string too!

Edited at 2012-04-15 06:04 pm (UTC)
Apr. 15th, 2012 02:15 pm (UTC)
Re: Desk Duty (2/2) - BBC Sherlock - NC-17 - Sherlock/Lestrade
archea2--I hope you take this as a compliment: This porn made me cry. I think the concept is beautiful and the execution perfect. You're just wonderful. <3 <3 <3
Apr. 15th, 2012 02:31 pm (UTC)
Re: Desk Duty (2/2) - BBC Sherlock - NC-17 - Sherlock/Lestrade
Oh, darling. That's more than I deserve (I can see all the little flaws now I reread this, will post a cleaned-up version on my LJ if it's all right with the meme!). But there'll be more L/S porn, though I must finish with paternal!Lestrade first. Thanks for commenting, I really appreciate this.
Apr. 15th, 2012 02:38 pm (UTC)
Re: Desk Duty (2/2) - BBC Sherlock - NC-17 - Sherlock/Lestrade
Will look forward to reading on your LJ soon. For various reasons, I've not let myself read anything at all on LJ in a couple of months (the exception, always, is fen sending me links to stuff on hers--so I'm really happy I got to read this--it made my weekend infinitely better) Looking forward to ending the LJ ban in May, and you and grassle will be the first lovelies I read, and the joy will overflow!
Apr. 16th, 2012 06:17 am (UTC)
Because this thread clearly needs a bit of femmeslash, have a 221B. BBC Sherlock Anthea/Ella, NC-17


This isn't just unprofessional, it's insane. And they are both normally very, very professional. But this Monday morning Anthea is skiving off a briefing at the MoD, and Ella is fingering a client in her consulting room. Well, it's Anthea pretending to be a client, but if they're discovered, that's not going to help.

Anthea has to leave in ten minutes and plans to claim she's late because she got stuck in a jam. When she purrs "stuck in a jam" at Ella, she manages to make it sound like the kinkiest thing ever.

"More," Anthea gasps now, her breasts wriggling under the fabric of her smart blouse.

"Someone will hear," Ella protests, looking up.

"Don't your clients ever start screaming?"

"Not normally 'Do that again'. You're so loud sometimes." Ella secretly loves her ability to shatter Anthea's cool facade. But it's too dangerous here.

"Well, if you don't want to be involved, you can just watch." Anthea's fingers reach down into herself. It's a beautiful sight, Ella thinks, but Anthea's soon complaining the angle's wrong. "And I need my hands free," she says, "to muffle the sounds."

But when Ella's renewed stroking gets her close, Anthea's hand instead hits a button on her Blackberry. And suddenly her lustful cries are hidden by a sound outside, as a car alarm blares.

Apr. 16th, 2012 06:19 am (UTC)
Just to add - I may try and do Anthea/ACD Irene as well, but that will be longer and more complicated to write and probably much lower rating.
Apr. 16th, 2012 10:06 am (UTC)
*bounces excitedly*

Anthea/ACD Irene is one of those pairings that must happen...
Apr. 16th, 2012 10:05 am (UTC)

yes, this thread definitely needed some femslash. thank you very much! I think my favourite exchange is

"Don't your clients ever start screaming?"

"Not normally 'Do that again'. You're so loud sometimes."

also, Anthea just would be able to set off a car alarm to cover the noise... *grins*
Jun. 20th, 2012 08:26 pm (UTC)
well, super late. but finished it.
for words plus ust, that is all.
completely lacking in true kinkiness, but with love anyway,
Jun. 20th, 2012 09:15 pm (UTC)
YOU WROTE ME XMFC!!!!!!!!!!!
*excited high-pitched squealing*

thank you so much for this - I love it!

still giggling at Charles's sports fantasy...

I also love the fact that your first XMFC fic is such a sweet and happy one!

*hugs you and the fic*

Edited at 2012-06-20 10:23 pm (UTC)
( 41 comments — Leave a comment )


scallop voices


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