☆ Round Two!

[jsmn_kink]

Welcome to the second round of the Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell Kink Meme at jsmn_kinkmeme!

Below are some basic guidelines, but please make sure you also check out our complete Rules & Guidelines.

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.
■ Would fillers please make sure when posting a fill in multiple parts that they thread their comments by replying to previous parts.

Links:
☆ Mod Post
☆ Fills Post
☆ Discussion Post
☆ Misfire deletion requests
☆ Previous Rounds: Round One

Comments

FILL: The Matter in Hand

[(Anonymous)]

The fact that Norrell had these in his hands was obtrusive enough, but Childermass's gloves were not secret possessions. Norrell had not snuck into his servant's bedchamber to retrieve them in the dead of night. This was just one of the ways how he justified holding them for longer than he should have. It was not the same as leafing through the pages of his diary - if indeed he kept one - or rifling through the drawers of his desk without asking. Besides, Childermass had left them in an obvious place. It was almost as though he were asking for somebody to move them. And that was all that Norrell was doing.

Unable to sleep, Norrell had come down to the library, candle in hand, and found the gloves lying crumpled on the centre table. When he had picked them up he'd noticed there was still a slight warmth lingering within the leather. Childermass often stayed up later than Norrell, but he could not fathom a reason why he would have needed these at such a small hour, and also why he would have left them on the table.

"Childermass?" Norrell said into the darkness. When no reply came he raised a hand into the air and whispered the words of an anti-concealment spell he knew (and had used several times, as he often liked to know for certain if he was alone.) If Childermass had been in the room, this would have sought him out, but the spell revealed nothing.

To the matter at hand then - tidying the desk so the space and his head was clear enough to read. But Norrell felt compelled to keep Childermass's gloves in his hands and was unsure why the temptation had snared him so. Perhaps it was the late hour, but there was something oddly comforting about them, if the intrusive feeling of touching his servant's possessions could be ignored, and it could.

Norrell had seen Childermass wearing these gloves countless times during his employment, but not so much since the move down to London. Yorkshire was much colder than London. Occasionally, on the coldest of wintery days, Childermass had worn them in the Hurtfew library. He wondered, as they sat unassuming in his palm, if they were the same pair he'd always worn. Childermass did not seem the type to buy duplicates of something he already owned in working order. Sitting down beside the candle's glow, he inspected them, looking closely at the material in the dim light. The leather was worn in places, in particular at the top of the palm where the fingers joined. A strip had worn away to reveal the cloth lining beneath and Norrell assumed it was where his horse's reins rubbed against them, and where he gripped them the hardest. But he wasn't sure for certain, having never ridden a horse in his life and indeed never wanting to.

Bringing the gloves up to his face Norrell went to smell them, to see if he might discover the scent of stables to verify his theory. Instead, what he found was the unmistakable scent of... Childermass. Norrell had never intentionally or actively attempted to smell his servant, but having lived for so many years in such close proximity to him, the scent of him had become rather familiar and almost homely. As he breathed Childermass in again it brought a flood of memories rushing into his mind. There were those accidental touches, cramped carriage rides, and those closely whispered conversations. These were memories Norrell was not proud of clinging to, and certainly not proud of replaying in his mind at times when he needed comfort, clarity or excitement, but as they were all brought together at once it hardly surprised him that his crotch had tingled beneath his nightgown. It would be difficult to disguise anything obvious if one of the staff was to wander in. Norrell didn't expect any to, but if there was a chance they might he could not risk it. Realising (rather belatedly) that his restlessness might be due to a well overdue act of onanism, Norrell decided it best to return to his bed, and deal with it.

As he went to place the gloves back onto the table, Norrell found himself thinking perhaps the most terrible thought he ever had. No. No he simply could not take them upstairs with him. He put them back down and picked up the candle. To think, he almost went through with such an absurdity! Walking with purpose toward the door, Norrell's mind betrayed him by demonstrating so clearly for him how wonderful it might be, to smell and touch those gloves while he touched himself. He stopped on the spot and screwed his eyes shut. He could not. He simply, could not. But then suddenly he was spiriting, snatching the gloves from the table and ascending the stairs with them as though the speed with which he did so would make it somehow less terrible. Because it was terrible.

Within the safety of his bedroom, the key turned in the door, the fact that nobody could possibly witness Norrell's crime made it more bearable. He cast the same spell again, just to make sure he was alone, and felt little guilt when he slipped under the counterpane with the gloves and brought one of them up to his face.

He breathed in more deeply than he had done in the library, pressing the glove closer to his face, and the scent was infinitely stronger. Not only that, but here in a room where Childermass was rarely found, filled with Norrell's clean, tidy, polished surfaces, the worn out glove was wonderfully contrary, his servant's only presence found in the five-fingered form in Norrell's hand.

Norrell thought about Childermass's hands then, within the gloves and otherwise. He thought of the way he removed them, slowly, one finger at a time, and sometimes slipping the tip of the index between his teeth to help slide them off. He thought about Childermass biting the tip of his thumb too, as he often did, and this brought more thoughts, of Childermass biting and sucking the fingertips he was now using to lightly stroke himself. The thought struck him of slipping his own hand into one of the gloves to touch himself with it and he he couldn't help but gasp. Norrell didn't think he'd ever imagined anything more agreeable and didn't have the willpower to quell such an idea once it had come to him.

Pressing his hand into the right glove, Norrell found that his fingers slotted inside quite easily. The leather had kept the shape of Childermass's hands and was a physical demonstration of how much larger they were than Norrell's. He tried to level his breathing as he gently wrapped the crinkling material around himself, almost too scared to grip as hard as he usually would. Letting out an approving little whine, he allowed himself to think of Childermass touching him while still wearing his gloves, slowly working him into a state of blissful delirium.

If Norrell had perhaps had more experience in these kinds of matters, then he might have thought of Childermass's gloved hand disappearing between his thighs, the slick leather digits breaching him and teasing him open. He might also have pondered on how the thick material might feel brushing over his nipples, or being forced into his mouth against the flat of his tongue. But this he found, was enough.

As he rode his hand in soft slow strokes along his length, accompanied obscenely by Childermass's glove, he noticed the texture of it against his sensitive, intimate skin. The worn patch he had seen earlier he could now feel against him, rubbing with a deliciously coarse friction. Norrell was not so innocent. The sensation of the crackled fabric brought to mind the stubbled texture of Childermass's beard, which he had always wanted to touch. A moan broke free from him as he thought of his servant's large, soft-looking lips enveloping him, suckling him with a tenderness one would not associate with such a large man. The thought was almost too much to bear. There were too many sensations and emotions piling up on top of him, bearing down and pushing him into the bed the way Childermass' hefty weight might do if he were on top of him, kissing him, fucking him.

Norrell was not ashamed to spend quickly, but before he did, he hurriedly slipped on the other glove. As he came, he softly gripped his balls with his freshly-gloved hand and stammered out a sigh as he felt them tighten, his seed emptying over the leather knuckle grooves.

Once the pleasure subsided, Norrell immediately felt a tremendous guilt over what had just occurred. With only the light from one candle, it was hard to see the mess he had made of Childermass's possessions, but he knew it was there. Quite how he would clean them up and have them back where he had found them before dawn he did not know. Childermass would surely be furious if he should discover his gloves to be missing, or he dreaded to think, if he should ever find out what his master had done with them. Norrell didn't think he would sleep well with this new worry tugging at his mind, but as soon as he had removed the soiled gloves and hidden them within one of his pillowcases, he'd fallen into a sated and peaceful sleep.

The following lunchtime, Childermass was slightly out of spirits over misplacing his gloves and having had a late night. That was until Norrell had presented him with a small black box printed with the seal of Glovers of London.

"What's this?" he asked, unsure if it was for him to open or deliver.

"Open it and find out."

Pulling the box open, Childermass found a pair of dark leather gloves made from the finest hide.

"I hope you don't mind," Norrell said, a slight hint of nervousness to his voice, "but I happened upon your gloves last night and saw what a terrible state they were in. I do not want my servant to be dressed untidily, so..."

Childermass blinked in surprise. He knew Norrell well enough and could read through his words to understand that these were certainly a gift, he was just disguising it within a chiding.

"Thank you Sir," he smiled, putting them on and admiring his hands in them as Norrell nodded and watched with interest.

"It was the least I could do," he said.

Re: FILL: The Matter in Hand

[(Anonymous)]

OP here and OMG YOU BEAUTIFUL PERSON!!!!!! This is so perfect!!! Every little shift to Norrell's thoughts was spot on and you hit all the little kinks inherent with this prompt just right! (Also, I had a crap day at work and coming home to this was the highlight of my week!!))

Thank you so much!

Re: FILL: The Matter in Hand

[(Anonymous)]

Hi OP! I'm so sorry that you had a bad day at work and that my little fill cheered you up :)
I just fell head over heels for this prompt (and personally have a huuuuge glove fetish and Childermass just looks incredible with his on doesn't he???) so I just had to do something. Norrell is very bad, but at least Childermass got a new pair of gloves out of it, so it all worked out okay in the end haha - love from A!A

Re: FILL: The Matter in Hand

[(Anonymous)]

OP again; you are the best!!! BIG SMOOCHES!!!!

Re: FILL: The Matter in Hand

[(Anonymous)]

Yesssssss. Nicely done! I lost it at Childermass biting the fingertips of his gloves. But ohhhh it was all good. Thanks a!a.

Re: FILL: The Matter in Hand

[(Anonymous)]

Thanks anon :) I'm glad you enjoyed it :)

Re: FILL: The Matter in Hand

[(Anonymous)]

I absolutely love the little touches of Norrell's hypocrisy in this. Just 'moving' the gloves. Making sure he's alone and giving them a hearty sniff and then just happening to realise it's been a while since he's had a nice wank--better go and sort himself out (giggle). Then he goes off with the gloves, and he's feeling so very guilty about it until he realises he's got away with it, and then settles down to treat himself because the guilt was so much to do with the prospect of being caught.

Then, of course, it's very hot--all the little details, and how the gloves make him think of Childermass's body.

It's rather sweet that he gets Childermass some decent gloves--the "least he could do" (snort).

Does he keep the old ones as special "wanking gloves" in a safe place? Gosh, those things are going to get sticky!

Re: FILL: The Matter in Hand

[(Anonymous)]

Thank you so much for this great comment anon! I'm glad you picked up on all those little moments (I also hope you read 'spiriting' as 'sprinting', I blame the iPhone's autocorrect for this - I don't have access to a computer at the moment.)

You can imagine anything you'd like for the fate of Childermass's old gloves (I wondered if he might forget they were in his pillowcase only to have it brought up at an embarrassing moment by one of his staff..) but I like the idea of him holding onto them. I don't think he could make any excuses for the new pair going missing!

- OP x

Re: FILL: The Matter in Hand

[(Anonymous)]

I meant A!A, I'm sorry *hides face* I'm so sorry my brain doesn't work properly in the mornings!

Re: FILL: The Matter in Hand

[(Anonymous)]

Oh wow, this is brilliant! There *is* something ridiculously sexy about Childermass' gloves, so I can't say I blame Norrell for going there ;)

Re: FILL: The Matter in Hand

[(Anonymous)]

Ohhh yes.:) Thank you you absolute treasure! "Norrell found himself thinking perhaps the momost terrible thought he had ever had." Gold. :) And also how Childermass perceived it as a disguised chiding at the end. XD Love it.

Re: FILL: The Matter in Hand

[(Anonymous)]

Oh, this is so good. And then the last line! "he smiled, putting them on and admiring his hands in them as Norrell nodded and watched with interest."...I bet he did.