☆ 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: A Spell for Changing Places, thus Discoueryng the Right Place 8/9

[(Anonymous)]

Alas, the promised treat proved disappointing. However lovely it was to admire or touch, and however much he'd had occasional wild dreams of having men, well, put it in him, the result was a decided...pain in the arse. It didn't get any better. He, in his innocence, had imagined that the man would just hold still, in the right place, while he himself worked his way to ecstasy around the man's organ, and it would feel rather similar to when Mr Strange had fingered him inside. But Jonathan Strange just didn't...come to a stop. He just kept going, too deep. So it wasn't going to get any better.

He froze up and yelped. Mr Strange, very fortunately, appeared able to tell it was the wrong sort of response, because he instantly withdrew himself as quickly and painlessly as possible.

Mr Norrell was crying, small hiccupping sobs, hiding his face in his hands. "I've ruined it. The one thing I really wanted, except for magic, was to be with you, and it's cruel to find out we're physically incompatible."

Mr Strange kissed him. "This is entirely my fault, Gilbert, my love. I tell you we need practice, and time, and then what do I do? Rush in just the way I've told you not to. I got it wrong pretty-much immediately."

"I'm the wrong build," complained Mr Norrell.

"You're smaller-built, it's true. But all that means is we have to use care. I'm larger, and more experienced, but I was randy enough to let you talk me into doing it the wrong way. Now, come and have a comfortable chat on the sopha."

That was warmer, and cosier, and more relaxing.

"Where I went wrong," said Jonathan Strange, "was not getting us comfortable, and not talking about it the right way. I said the right things. More or less. But I got you prickly and defensive about your lack of experience. I was absolutely right that the best thing for you would be a nice, slow, comfortable fuck--and then instead of taking you to your safe warm bed where you could relax, I bent you over a chair.”

Mr Norrell thought about it. He nodded. He had been excited, but tense.

“Not content with that, I touched you the wrong way,” went on Mr Strange. “Oh, not painfully, just the way I'd touch an experienced man who wanted preparation. But you were so ready; what I should have done is just make you come that way, get you used to the pleasure, not shove something three times as thick in and terrify the wits out of you. Then I'd have encouraged you to please me, we could have had a good night's sleep--and we'd have had a decent chance of having a good fuck the next day, or in the next few days. If you don't remember any thing else I'm telling you about physical love, remember this: there's always another chance, at least if what you did was merely a bit embarrassing."

Mr Norrell said. “It was partly my fault. I was so sure I wanted you to do that to me!”

“To be fair, you do want me to do it to you,” said Mr Strange. “You just didn’t want me to push ahead like a brute when your nerves made you tense up. Now, tomorrow, when you’re all sleepy and relaxed in the morning, I’ll massage your back, then I’ll put some oil in you, trying not to get you worked up. Then I’ll try fucking you, and if you’re still not ready, you’re still not ready, and we’ll wait.”

Mr Norrell muttered, “Not fair,” sulkily.

“Oh, what is it now, for heaven’s sake! I happen to think that is a very handsome offer,” said Jonathan Strange.

“Yes, but don’t forget... the being-frightened was only the last five minutes of something I seemed to enjoy to start with. Now, when you described doing it slowly, I also remembered both of us are going to have to wait."

Jonathan Strange exclaimed, "All right, that explains why you were looking as though you lost a shilling and found sixpence just now."

After explaining that idiom of mild, sulky disappointment to Mr Norrell, Jonathan Strange continued: "Well, I certainly am not going to wait that long to come--and nor are you, you randy little devil!" Jonathan Strange sniggered, slapped him on the rump, and said, “Bed. Now."

They went to Mr Norrell's bed, that being slightly bigger, and better up to his exacting standards for warmth, and undressed.

“I'm first," said Jonathan Strange. "I don't trust you not to go straight to sleep after I've done you."

Mr Norrell thought about it. Of course it was most unfair. On the other hand (and probably overflowing both his hands) he would be able to come to a closer acquaintance with Mr Strange's impressive endowment, enjoy that thoroughly, and then lie down and be comprehensively pleasured.

“I defer to your greater experience, sir," he said.

Jonathan Strange's lips twitched in a grin. "Meaning, no doubt, that you'd like a feel of it. Well, go ahead!"

Mr Norrell started gently, caressing his thighs and balls and letting the anticipation rise up. Then he took him in hand. (Both hands. He had been quite right about that). He had only himself to go by, so of course it would be Mr Strange's own fault if Mr Norrell proved atrocious through mere inexperience.

Apparently he wasn't too bad. There was an attractive flush on Jonathan Strange's cheeks and body, and he shifted restlessly on the bed as Mr Norrell stroked him and handled him, gently at first.

Mr Strange started swearing again, under his breath.

Mr Norrell handled him a lot firmer.

Mr Strange said, "Hold the base in your one hand, sir, and really go at it with the other at the tip; short, hard strokes."

This sounded almost painful to Mr Norrell, but he seemed to be able to provide, and Mr Strange came off in a real gusher, groaning and gasping.

Mr Norrell said, "Can I be disgraceful?"

Mr Strange (still panting) said, "After that you can have anything you like!"

Mr Norrell whispered in his ear, "I should like to play with my own prick while you get your fingers all wet with your own seed and stroke my hole." He reached for himself. It was quite the most depraved thing he'd ever thought of. He whispered, "Sorry! You don't..." he began to say. He meant, of course, "You don't have to!" but he was unable to finish the sentence because a couple of wet fingertips had slid unerringly into that most sensitive place. Rubbing and rubbing, as he frigged himself eagerly, and the only thing out of his mouth was a deep groan of pleasure as he brought himself off. He'd wanted that!

"I'm really looking forward to tomorrow now," said Mr Strange, with a huge yawn and a squeeze of Mr Norrell's bottom.

Mr Norrell sighed complainingly. "Don't do that. I like it."

"Not even you could...oh. Do you not have the normal limits human men do?"

Mr Norrell sighed again, slightly more crossly. "Of course I can't get it up again, but if you say and do something suggestive, the blasted thing can manage a slight twitch."

"My vocabulary has affected you. Sorry."

"Damn nuisance!" said Mr Norrell ambiguously, and went to sleep.

Fill: A Spell for Changing Places, thus Discoueryng the Right Place 9/9

[(Anonymous)]

The next morning, Mr Strange gave Mr Norrell a bath and a massage until he was relaxed, squirming a little with pleasure, and ready to practice.

"I want to come again, does that mean I'm too tense?" said Mr Norrell.

"Not necessarily. I've taken the edge off you last night, and you've had a good night's sleep, a bath and a massage. I don't think either of us is eager enough to rush it too fast."

"Mm," said Mr Norrell happily, as he appreciated being fingered from behind when he wasn't quite ready to come.

Mr Strange withdrew his fingers

"All right. This is me, now, properly greased. If you're not quite up for a fuck I can rub myself against your bum and do it that way. As I told you, there are always options."

But this time, Mr Norrell remembered his arse being teased, and how good it had felt. He noticed how smooth and delicious the tip of a firm prick felt compared to the slightly bony nature of fingers. He knew that either or both of them would be able to stop if they needed to stop.

He said, "More!"

So Jonathan Strange gave him more. Inch by tortuous inch--and every fraction of an inch so deeply appreciated, because it felt good and because he knew that if it ever hurt, they could stop and go back to it later. After a bit, Jonathan said, "I'm half-way in you. You want to settle like that for a while?" and he realised that Jonathan would do that for him, if he wished; let him enjoy himself like this, wait as long as it took.

He said, "Full stretch, please. If...if you can do it without hurting me."

Jonathan Strange knew, probably from the betraying stammer, that he wasn't quite sure of his body's limits.

"Well, first," said Mr Strange. "I'm going to play with you for a little while, see if your body votes for letting me in." Despite his words, he was far short of fondling Mr Norrell's prick, settling for teasing his nipples, thighs and balls.

Apparently all of those voted an unambiguous 'yes!' because he soon felt Mr Strange more deeply within him, and more to the point felt his body opening to let him in. "Oh! Yes, please," he said.

The second half of Mr Strange's member went in rather easier.

"All right, you've got me!" panted Jonathan Strange, although the warm, slightly sweaty feeling of his body pressed tight against Mr Norrell did rather make that clear.

"Mm...doesn't hurt at all, lovely!" He squirmed.

"I hope there's enough of me, after all that," said Mr Strange.

"Very much so," said Mr Norrell, pausing to pant. "Could you do it properly now?"

The slow back-and-forth thrusting felt even better than being fingered, both physically and because he knew it was for both of them, not one at a time. "We were both right," he suggested, very slightly smugly. "It does feel good."

After a little while, he demanded it harder, and Jonathan Strange did it harder.

He reached for his prick, and whined when Jonathan Strange said, "Not now, Gilbert."

"I'm not doing any thing," he lied.

"Stop it."

Mr Norrell sighed, and removed his hand.

"That's better."

Actually, being told (ordered!) not to bring himself off was oddly exciting.

"Do you know what I was thinking last night?"

"Mm?" said Mr Norrell, not really thinking at all, with the rapid migration of relevant parts of his blood-supply southwards.

"Just that you're so very greedy," murmured Mr Strange in his ear, nibbling and licking it. "So very greedy it'll feel marvellous for both of us when you finally come yourself silly on my cock." And suddenly, there was a tight fist squeezing him, and he was squeezing that huge, gorgeous thing inside him, and he spent himself in a roaring uncivilised fury until he was quite drained.

Five minutes of rather muddled shared ecstasy later, Jonathan Strange said, "Can I have my cock back, please? I'm going to have to clean up, knowing you, and it's not a detachable appendage."

Mr Norrell muttered something about wanting a spell for that.

Mr Strange said, "No, Gilbert, I'm the one who comes up with frankly ridiculous and untested spells. You're the other one."

"I want to sleep."

Mr Norrell had a very curious dream involving making toast and honey while Jonathan was away on a journey. As he stood at the fire, he put his hand in his pocket and discovered Jonathan had left him with a...detachable appendage to keep him company, and it kept falling out of his pocket because the pockets were too small.

When he woke up he had been irritably searching his wardrobe for a garment with a large enough pocket.

They both, unusually, drank toasts over their next meal. After the not-entirely-serious toasts to Mr Strange's masculine appendage, "Long may it rise!" and Mr Norrell's extreme lubricity, "And may your appetite never run dry, sir!" there was a pause for more serious toasts.

"To Ormskirk," said Mr Norrell, "for getting us together."

"And to the Raven King himself for making it clear we are in the Right Place," said Jonathan Strange.