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jsmn_kinkmeme2015-06-06 08:02 pm
jsmn_kink) wrote in jsmn_kinkmeme2015-06-06 08:02 pm
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☆ Round One!
Welcome to the first round of the Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell Kink Meme at jsmn_kinkmeme!
Below are some basic guidelines to get started. Please make sure you also check out our complete Rules & Guidelines to minimise any confusion.
Guidelines:
■ Anonymously comment with your request – a character/pairing/nthsome, and a kink or prompt.
■ Only one prompt per post.
■ Fillers please link your fills in the Fills Post!
■ Have fun! :)
Keep in mind:
■ Any kinks welcomed!
■ The fill/request does not need to be sexual or porny.
■ Multiple fills are allowed.
■ Fills can be any sort of creative work: fic, art, song, photomanip, etc.
■ Beware of spoilers! Prompters and requesters are encouraged to warn for spoilers, but this rule is not enforced.
■ Warning for non-con, dub-con, abuse, slurs/language, and other potentially disturbing subjects is encouraged but be aware we do not enforce this.
Links:
☆ Current Prompt Post
☆ Mod Post
☆ Fills Post
☆ Discussion Post
☆ Misfire deletion requests
jsmn_kinkmeme!Below are some basic guidelines to get started. Please make sure you also check out our complete Rules & Guidelines to minimise any confusion.
Guidelines:
■ Anonymously comment with your request – a character/pairing/nthsome, and a kink or prompt.
■ Only one prompt per post.
■ Fillers please link your fills in the Fills Post!
■ Have fun! :)
Keep in mind:
■ Any kinks welcomed!
■ The fill/request does not need to be sexual or porny.
■ Multiple fills are allowed.
■ Fills can be any sort of creative work: fic, art, song, photomanip, etc.
■ Beware of spoilers! Prompters and requesters are encouraged to warn for spoilers, but this rule is not enforced.
■ Warning for non-con, dub-con, abuse, slurs/language, and other potentially disturbing subjects is encouraged but be aware we do not enforce this.
Links:
☆ Current Prompt Post
☆ Mod Post
☆ Fills Post
☆ Discussion Post
☆ Misfire deletion requests
FILL: A Distraction (4/6)
(Anonymous) 2015-07-11 07:11 am (UTC)(link)“You were not.” Childermass glanced at Norrell and said, “One moment, sir, and I’ll be right back to you.”
Then he shoved Strange closer to Norrell. Strange took up his place and looked to Childermass for his next instruction. The realization of control thrilled through Childermass. He moved in close to Strange, pressing a sloppy kiss to his mouth, then moved down Strange’s chest, biting as he went. Strange let out a groan, and Norrell a ragged gasp. Childermass made short work of Strange’s breeches and undergarments, and then said as he took hold of his prick, “Do not try everything at once.”
At this he ran the flat of his tongue up the underside of Strange’s prick, hearing the gasps above him. “Start small and easy,” he said, following his tongue with light kisses, “until you’ve got your courage up. And then …” He pressed his lips to the slit at the tip, tasting the bitterness. It had been years since he’d tasted that, as he’d had little enough time for dalliances even in Yorkshire. Still, it was a talent he was unlikely to forget, and from Strange’s harsh breathing he could not be doing too poorly.
He opened his mouth and did his level best to take Strange to pieces.
“Good lord,” Norrell whispered. Strange did not manage such coherence, but seemed to agree.
Childermass had to hold Strange’s hips still, gripping tightly enough that there might well be marks left behind. He was not usually so careless, he thought, but such caution seemed to him a very unimportant thing.
He felt Strange’s hand in his hair once more, and remembered then what he had been about. He drew off Strange’s prick, and grinned at the look of disappointment on Strange’s face. “Do you intend to just sit there, Mr Strange?” Childermass asked. “This was supposed to be teaching you.”
Strange stared at him in dumb amazement for a moment, before Childermass knelt up and laced his own fingers through Strange’s hair. With a press, he guided Strange’s mouth to Norrell’s prick, and then he said, “Now, sir, do as I did.”
He held Strange more out of enjoyment than true guidance as he watched the man take Norrell in hand and lick sloppy trails up him, not just on the underside but all over. Childermass’ breath hitched at the sight, and the way that one of Norrell’s dainty hands joined his own in Strange’s hair.
“Kiss him,” Childermass said. He watched with greedy eyes as Strange complied, pressing feather kisses up Norrell’s length before at last pressing first lips, then tongue to the head. He let out a curious noise, probably at the taste of it. Norrell was pressing his other hand to his mouth to stifle the sounds he was making.
Strange drew back for a moment, shot Norrell a grin, and said, “I believe I am feeling sufficiently courageous, sir.” Then he slipped his lips about Norrell’s prick, and pressed forward. Too far forward, as it was, because he drew away coughing. “Perhaps too courageous,” he wheezed, before applying himself again.
Childermass took Strange’s hand and wrapped it about the base of Norrell’s prick. “So you do not choke yourself again,” he explained. Strange hummed his understanding, and Norrell squeaked at the added sensation.
Confident that Strange had achieved at least a basic proficiency, Childermass worked his way back down and rewarded him with his own mouth.
For a time he lost himself in the repetitive movement, learning the shape and weight of the prick in his mouth, as well as what efforts yielded the greatest responses. From the broken cry Norrell let out, he acknowledged Strange as a quick learner.
But he was growing bored, and Norrell would not last long. He pulled away with a popping sound, and Strange did as well, although it seemed he did so mostly to babble, “No, you needn’t stop!”
“But you need to, or we shall leave Mr Norrell behind us. And I’ve more to shew you before this night is through. Too much to spend ourselves on this.”
“Where did you learn these things?” Strange asked.
“Where does a man learn any such thing, Mr Strange?”
“Ah. Well, your education is … very thorough.”
Childermass turned from Strange and took Norrell’s face in his hands. “I am a quick study, am I not, Mr Norrell?”
“You are,” Norrell admitted, though Childermass suspected it was mostly to earn a kiss, which Childermass granted and gladly. Norrell shrugged back, though, making a face at the taste of Childermass’ mouth.
Childermass chuckled. “I’ll own that it is an acquired taste.”
Norrell blinked his small eyes, and then whispered, “Would you like me to acquire it?”
Childermass’ breath stuttered in his chest. Being in control was one thing, but this … he had imagined it a time or two, idly, but he had never considered his employer might offer it for true.
“I rather think he does,” Strange said behind him.
Mr Norrell got the look of determined focus he sometimes wore when casting particularly difficult spells. He eased himself down to the floor, glancing up at Childermass once he was there. “You shall need to tell me what to do,” he said, looking embarrassed by the very notion.
“Open your mouth,” Childermass said, unwilling to put Norrell through the trials of foreplay, “and trust me.”
“I do, you know,” Norrell murmured. “I have for years.”
This was all too much. This wasn’t the easy game Childermass had been playing, pleasurable but with no great meaning. Mr Norrell, whether he intended it or not, had raised the stakes.
When Childermass eased his hips forward and nudged the head of his prick past Norrell’s lips, he had to look away, lest he lose control. He caught Strange’s eye, as the man leaned against a table, watching them with hungry fascination, as though he knew this interaction was not for him, and that it was a privilege that he was allowed to watch.
Childermass thrust as slowly and gently as he was able, keeping the pace steady. Norrell’s eyes fluttered shut as he concentrated upon his work, and Childermass bit back a groan at the sight of it. They once again fell into the spell, consumed by their actions, and by one another, until Childermass felt his own completion begin to build, and reluctantly drew away. Norrell blinked his eyes open, looking startled, as though he had quite forgotten what it was they had been doing until that moment, or that he had found the taste so disagreeable.
Childermass drew Norrell to his feet and kissed his irritating, inept and often extraordinary employer. Then he drew back and pressed his hand to the opening of Norrell’s shirt. “I believe you are wearing too much, sir. Shall I correct that?”
“I would appreciate it.”
Childermass heard Strange approach and say, “The same might be said of you, sir. May I?”
Childermass looked to Strange, who was still earnest and eager, and looked a little worried that he might be left out of the proceedings entirely. “You may,” Childermass said. “Mr Norrell, would you like to assist Mr Strange?”
“I would,” Norrell said, looking at Strange as though he were a treasure Norrell had not thought to attain. Childermass stamped down any jealousy that look might engender in him. Norrell certainly wasn’t pushing him away, after all.
FILL: A Distraction (5/6)
(Anonymous) 2015-07-11 07:12 am (UTC)(link)Childermass had been considerably more put together, and Strange’s hands shook as he struggled. Norrell joined his efforts, but was even less useful. In the end, it took all three of them, though mostly Childermass himself, to rid him of the rest of his clothing.
And then there was a blur of exploration. Childermass lost track of whether he was touching Norrell or Strange, which he kissed, and whose fingers loosed the queue in his hair and sent it tumbling about his face. At last he managed to maneuver Norrell between them, and with Strange and Norrell once again lost in kisses, Childermass pressed his lips to the back of Norrell’s neck, then the top of his spine. He shuddered, for there was indeed something more he wished to shew the magicians, but now that he had come to it, it seemed to him a great and dreadful risk.
But Childermass was no stranger to risk, and he had dared a great deal more in service to Mr Norrell. He rose on silent feet and moved over to the candles, which were burning low. He gathered the tallow in his hand and went back to his companions, still lost in one another. He trailed his fingers down Norrell’s spine, and they were all of them slick with the tallow. “Sir,” he whispered in Norrell’s ear, “I would like to do something, but you may find it unpleasant. Tell me to, and I shall stop.”
He slid his fingers further down, pressing inward until he found the small pucker of muscle. Mr Norrell stiffened, but did not push him away. Childermass took this as tacit permission, and breached the ring with a single fingertip.
Mr Norrell hissed, his face screwed up as though he was not certain whether he enjoyed this or not. Mr Strange let out a harsh groan when he realized what Childermass was about, then reached down, hooked a hand behind Norrell’s knee, and drew it up. Norrell very nearly overbalanced, and clung to Strange’s shoulders tightly as the other magician urged him to wrap his leg about Strange’s hips. This proved more of a challenge than Strange had perhaps anticipated, given their height differences.
Childermass was feeling generous, and whispered into Norrell’s ear, “Would you like to hold onto Mr Strange while I see to you, sir?”
Norrell gulped and nodded, not taking his eyes from Strange’s. Childermass looked to Strange, and then wrapped an arm about Norrell’s waist. With a soft grunt, he lifted the small man off his feet, and Strange caught his other leg, drawing them both up about his waist. Norrell gasped as he and Strange were pressed tight as they could be, and Strange’s prick bumped Childermass’ knuckles where he pushed his finger into Mr Norrell.
The spread of Mr Norrell’s legs made it easier for Childermass to drive his finger deeper in, using his body to bolster Norrell’s position and take some of the strain off Strange. Strange and Norrell were kissing hard and sloppy, and as Childermass worked he peppered kisses to their throats until Strange caught his mouth and kissed him in a most ungentlemanly way, his tongue thrusting as deliberately as his prick.
Childermass drew away from him and kissed Mr Norrell, lest he feel neglected, even as he pressed the tip of a second finger to his opening. Norrell whined into his mouth as he was breached, squirming in Strange’s grasp, but held tight and open.
“Breathe through it, Mr Norrell,” Childermass whispered to him.
“I’ve no idea why anyone would enjoy this,” Norrell complained.
Childermass knew some incentive was in order, and thought he had enough leverage to get it. He twisted his hand, the angle of it awkward, until he found the bump that long ago some obliging sailor had shewed him. Norrell let out a wail of shock and pleasure, and rocked back against Childermass’ hand. “That is why, sir,” Childermass said, and pressed it again and again, using the distraction to scissor his fingers and then add a third. Norrell gasped and wriggled, trying to get more friction and more pressure all at once. “I am grateful to see you appreciate it.”
Childermass kept at him until Norrell’s shifting gave way to a boneless sort of ecstasy, and the the clench of him fluttered and relaxed. Childermass was panting out his desire, but he knew, much though he was loath to admit it, that Norrell was still looking at Strange as though he had hung the moon. Childermass did not need twenty-six years of service to understand what it was that Norrell wanted; what he had wanted for years, ever since Jonathan Strange had sauntered into their lives and lit Mr Norrell up like a bonfire.
Childermass shook his head, but took hold of Strange’s prick with his free hand. Strange gasped and looked at him with wide eyes.
“If you hurt him,” Childermass warned, “I shall do the same to you.”
Strange nodded to him, a look of worry and care settling over him. Perhaps he understood the honor he was being given, or perhaps he was simply worried about his own hide. Childermass was not certain, but whichever it was, Childermass believed he would indeed take care.
He guided Strange’s prick to the place where his fingers were buried in Norrell’s body, and then drew them out, coating Strange in the rest of the tallow. Norrell’s breath was short in anticipation, and as Strange lined himself up, every breath Norrell took was a soft whimper. Childermass felt the head of Strange’s prick snug up against Norrell’s opening, and then slide past it.
Norrell cried out, his head falling back against Childermass’ shoulder and his knuckles going white where they clung to Strange. He looked transfixed, as one lost in visions. Childermass pressed his lips to Norrell’s slack mouth, enjoying how pliant it was. He hadn’t realized how closely he’d crowded until he felt his own prick brushing against Strange’s and nudging against the stretched rim of Norrell’s hole.
Norrell’s eyes snapped to Childermass’ and he whispered, “John.” Childermass gasped at the sound of his Christian name on his employer’s lips, a sound he had heard so few times he would not need a full hand to count them. “John, I am not certain I can …”
Childermass stroked Norrell’s cheek and said, “Nor are you expected to.” He thought about it for a moment, and then took the risk of whispering, “Gilbert.”
He steered them toward the nearest wall, Strange murmuring his protests at being made to stop his movements. Then Childermass slipped out from behind Norrell and let the wall support him, and Strange was content once more. Childermass watched as he pressed his forehead to Norrell’s, their eyes locked and lost in one another. Norrell touched Strange’s face, and Strange kissed him softly as he moved between his legs with a slow and easy purpose. He whispered something, and Norrell’s smile pulled on strings in Childermass’ heart he had thought plucked out.
Childermass shook his head hard against it, and then moved to the candles once more. He gathered tallow and returned, pressing up against Strange’s back and sliding a finger into him without preamble.
“Oh!” Strange said.
“Objections, Mr Strange?” Childermass whispered into his ear.
Strange blinked, then relaxed his body back a bit. “None at all, Mr Childermass. I would only request only that you go slowly. This is all rather new to me.”
Childermass watched for a second the easy way Strange moved inside Norrell, and the way Norrell rested his head against the wall and looked at them both with a perfect trust Childermass rarely saw on his face. That he was enjoying himself was certain, and whatever discomfort he might have suffered was quite forgotten.
“You are in good hands, sir,” he told Strange, and meant it. For that moment, with Strange holding Mr Norrell as though he were precious, Childermass saw a bit of what Norrell saw in Strange. He was a decent man beneath the arrogance and the self-absorption; an idiot, but a decent man.
FILL: A Distraction (6/6)
(Anonymous) 2015-07-11 07:14 am (UTC)(link)“This shall sting a bit,” Childermass said. “Spread your legs as you can.”
“I can’t do much,” Strange warned, easing his heels out a bit as Childermass helped take Norrell’s weight.
Strange was right, it wasn’t much, but Childermass judged it enough, and lined himself up. “Breathe out, sir,” he said, and upon the noisy exhale Childermass pressed himself forward.
The tightness was an old memory, intense as it ever was. Strange’s rasping breaths and the sudden stillness of his hips made Norrell blink at both of them. “Jonathan?” he asked.
“Give me a moment,” Strange gasped. “It’s just a bit larger than I had suspected.”
“Breathe through it,” Norrell told him, repeating Childermass’ advice as though it was his own.
Strange let out a shaky laugh, but he did seem to relax a bit. When Childermass judged him sufficiently unwound, he asked, “Shall we, Mr Strange, Mr Norrell?”
He did not wait for permission, but thrust hard, making Strange shout and thrust as well. Childermass repeated the gesture, establishing an unrelenting rhythm into Strange. Strange, following Childermass’ lead, was no longer quite as gentle in his movements, rocking into Norrell with a hard push that drove him back against the wall and made him cry out in shocked pleasure. Childermass watched, rapt, as Strange hunched over, kissing Norrell with fumbling lips as his movements sped. Norrell clung to him desperately, one hand even grasping at Childermass’ shoulder. His legs pressed to Childermass’ belly hard enough Childermass could feel when his toes began to curl. Each inhalation he drew rasped, and each exhalation was a high, helpless cry.
Childermass felt his own completion, which had seemed so distant for so much of their activities, suddenly drawing close. Strange was a desperate heat about him, shoving back against him every bit as much as he was thrusting forward into Norrell. He was panting hard, a soft counterpoint to the racket Norrell was making.
“Mr Norrell,” Strange gasped, “Gilbert, I can’t …”
Childermass knew the sound of a man on the edge of a fall, and reached between them, quick and smooth as an eel, to grasp Mr Norrell’s prick and jerk it with rough strokes. Norrell’s eyes went as wide as Childermass had ever seen them, and after only three hard strokes, timed to coincide with the deepest thrust inside him, he released a keening wail of pleasure. He shook as he came undone, and Childermass’ hand was slicked with his release.
As Norrell shuddered, Strange groaned loudly, and his movements became erratic. Childermass felt him spasm as he followed Mr Norrell down, and Childermass himself had to bite Strange’s shoulder, lest he shout the house down upon his own completion. His knees gave out and he slid out of Strange and to the floor, joined shortly by the others. They were each of them a mess, Childermass’ hair in wild disarray, Strange with an angry red mark upon his shoulder, and Norrell curled limply in Strange’s arms.
Childermass believed himself to be the first to come to his senses, for he realized as he sat there what a dangerous situation this truly was. That Norrell might react badly seemed to him probable, and Strange no less so, for one was married and the other prone to excitement. Childermass’ own mastery of the situation was in tatters. He had no notion how he might prevent Strange from leaving forever or Norrell from dismissing him in mortification.
His mind rushed through all possible solutions, each more dire than the last. If he could not prevent all ill-effects, there was a possibility of damage control.
Just then, Strange looked up at him, his eyes clear and his expression quiet. Norrell had looked at neither of them, but Childermass could see his mounting horror plainly in the way his hands tightened upon Strange’s arms. He noted only distantly that Strange was still inside him, though he was likely to slip out once he had softened sufficiently.
“Sir,” Childermass began, but had no idea what to say next.
To his great surprize, Strange smiled an ironical smile at him, and stroked a hand against Norrell’s hair. “Well,” he said, “I must say that the spell was successful, although its effects are perhaps too unpredictable to recommend its common use.”
“Mr Strange …” Norrell said, sounding most wretched.
“Mr Norrell,” said Strange, “do not fear. One imagines such occurrences are not unheard of in magical study, and I daresay a sight more enjoyable than other potential complications. We could not help ourselves, sir. I would hate to see our friendship dissolve itself over such a thing as this.”
Norrell raised his head, the momentary flash of disappointment upon his face concealed well by a surprize that looked like a pardoned man’s. “No,” he said, “I should not wish that either.”
“Excellent,” said Strange. “Shall I see you tomorrow, then? I find myself quite exhausted.”
“You are welcome to make use of a room here, if you’d care to,” Norrell said, then blushed as he realized that the implications of such an invitation had quite changed. “At least until we have found a means of retrieving your shirt and jacket.”
Strange blinked, as though he had quite forgot he had lost them to the magic. He cast a glance at the clear mark of teeth upon his shoulder, and fingers at his hips. Yet still he did not react poorly, nor comport himself in any way that might upset the delicate balance they had all established. “Perhaps that would be for the best,” he said. “And if we cannot summon my shirt, I would be grateful, Childermass, if I might make use of a shirt and waistcoat.”
“You may,” Childermass said said after a moment’s realization that he had very much underestimated Jonathan Strange, though he knew not how. Strange’s shallowness had seemed so clear to him that he had never imagined he might hide greater depths. His gratitude came forth in the offer, “And I can fetch you a bandage for your shoulder. I do not think I broke the skin, but it is best to take care of such things.”
Strange offered his thanks, but after that none of them seemed to find the will to move. Childermass thought that Norrell was savoring, committing the feeling and shape of Strange to memory, so intent was the expression on his face. Strange himself looked terribly fond of them both.
And Childermass did not know what to think, or how to respond. Remaining still seemed the best option for once, as moving would break the spell of hazy satisfaction which still seemed to hang about them. After a moment, he found Mr Norrell’s hand and took it without meeting his gaze. Strange’s fingers rested lightly upon the back of his hand after a moment, brushing with a steady rhythm that matched his fingers in Norrell’s hair.
Mr Norrell squeezed Childermass’ fingers, lightly but definitely. Childermass only just restrained the sight of relief, and very much restrained whatever other feelings might have accompanied that brief clasp. They would manage, if only through sheer stubborn determination that it be so. There would be challenges, not least of which would be removing the marks upon Strange to a sufficient degree that he might return to his wife without suspicion, but those could be met. They none of them, he thought, would get quite what they wanted, but they none of them would be left miserable either.
They would manage.
Re: FILL: A Distraction (6/6)
(Anonymous) 2015-07-11 09:34 am (UTC)(link)First of all, I commend you on writing the easiest to follow threesome fic I've read in a long, long time. I love OT3s, but it's so difficult to keep track of what limbs belong to whom and who is doing what to whomever else. Not so here though, so I am a very happy reader.
Technicalities out of the way, there is something about your writing that really works for me. It flows well, and the style of it mashes very well with Clarke's own writing and the general 'mood' of the fandom. Your Character voices are also completely on point, and I loved Childermass' POV here. It was nice to see the gears ticking even as he himself got dragged more and more into the situation.
Everyone's dynamics and interactions felt really true, and I loved how bittersweet the ending was. Jonathan being the one with surprising insight and control of the aftermath really worked for me as well. It is rather easy to underestimate Mr Strange, isn't it Childermass?
Thanks a lot for writing this, I really hope there'll be more from you!
Re: FILL: A Distraction (6/6)
(Anonymous) 2015-07-11 12:28 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: A Distraction (6/6)
(Anonymous) 2015-07-12 10:26 am (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: A Distraction (6/6)
(Anonymous) 2015-07-14 01:55 am (UTC)(link)Loved how Strange (even under enchantment) was just so matter of fact about approaching Childermass about joining in. Loved it even moreso that he recognizes the gravity of what's happening between Childermass and Norrell. Of course, Norell being all smitten at Jonathan that he's all awkward-duck about it.
I'm always so impressed by smut-writers in this fandom, because it can be difficult to write tone-appropriate porn that still manages to be hot. This fill has that in spades. Strange and Norrell being wrapped up in each other at the beginning was hilarious, but when things got seriously underway the fic turned grade-A+++, 5-star HOTTT. Childermass being in charge is drool-worthy. Ugh. Thanks for coming up with this prompt, and thanks even more for filling this!
Re: FILL: A Distraction (6/6)
(Anonymous) 2015-07-15 07:01 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: A Distraction (6/6)
(Anonymous) 2015-07-18 09:50 pm (UTC)(link)Favourite line:
Strange crying "Oh!" at being penetrated for the first time. It seemed so very proper. I laughed.
Re: FILL: A Distraction (6/6)
(Anonymous) 2015-07-19 04:03 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: A Distraction (6/6)
(Anonymous) 2015-07-19 09:08 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: A Distraction (6/6)
(Anonymous) 2015-10-27 01:14 am (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: A Distraction (6/6)
(Anonymous) 2015-12-08 10:36 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: A Distraction (6/6)
(Anonymous) 2016-09-14 05:46 pm (UTC)(link)I desperately love Strange/Norrell, & I have been a big ot3 fan for years. Some couples are just a mess when left to their own devices. The relationship only works with a third element. Something to stabilize, or in this case provide some goddamnit practicality.
Untill now I had been shipping them with Arabella, (the Stranges are just too cute for me to want to break that) now I want Childermass too. Greedy, aren't i?
Is there such a thing as an ot4? I might be developing a new fixation here. All your fault. Your. Fault.
*wanders off contemplating Arabella fiddling with that scrying spell, wondering what was holding up Jonathan*