cuddyclothes: (Bertie Porn)
cuddyclothes ([personal profile] cuddyclothes) wrote in [community profile] give_satisfaction2035-12-24 11:19 am

Let The Kinkiness Begin!

And we're off! Don't hold back! It's anonymous so let your freak flag fly! Not confident about your creative skills? Practice here!  The fills can be anything you want. Fics, videos, artwork and anything else that strikes your fancy. Prompts do not have to be Bertie and Jeeves only! All of the other characters are fair game (Honoria and Madeline tentacle sex, anybody?). As are characters from other books and stories. This meme might be slow to start, so please spread the word!

And remember:

Complete rules for posting are on the group's profile. To protect members' privacy, entry posting is by members only.  However, prompts and fills are made anonymously, which means non-members can respond!

Rules

1. No underage characters

2. No RPF/RPS

3. No bashing other people's kinks.

4. Please use content warnings. Put them at the start of your prompt. I.e. Prompt (Content Warning: Attempted Suicide)
Please warn for:
Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Major Character Death
Rape/Non-Con
Suicide
Attempted Suicide
Incest


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HOW IT WORKS: All posts are comments. To make your request, reply directly to this post. To fill someone's request, reply to their comment.

TIP FOR FINDING FILLS: On the left side of each page is a list of posts. In this case, the fill titles appear so that you can find and click on them without scrolling through an increasingly long thread! You can also find Part Two of fills on the list. Another way is to check "Top Level Comments Only". Only the prompts will show. You can judge from the number of responses whether or not the prompt was answered.

ETA: If you have comments about a fill, there is absolutely no time limit on comments. Writers love praise!

ETA ETA: A post from May 21 says that members would prefer fills to fic recs. For more, click on the link.

ETA ETA ETA: Please do not delete your prompts once they are posted. Members might have been writing a fill, or simply enjoy reading them and imagining the scenarios. 

inimitable jeeves




(Anonymous) 2019-06-05 02:10 pm (UTC)(link)
I believe OP was referring to this fill:
https://give-satisfaction.dreamwidth.org/2406.html?thread=160102#cmt160102

(Anonymous) 2019-06-05 02:13 pm (UTC)(link)
I have! It's one of my favorite fics! (But then everything by DictionaryWrites is perfect đź–¤)

Re: Fill: Veritas

(Anonymous) 2019-06-05 04:34 pm (UTC)(link)
Yay thanks! So funny that that's the line you quoted, I added it impulsively right before posting!

Re: Fill: Veritas

(Anonymous) 2019-06-05 05:08 pm (UTC)(link)
Great fic! I was happy to discover that this is a double fill! I am the one who prompted drunk!Jeeves and I love this fic! If you like you can reply to my prompt with a link to it. :)

(Anonymous) 2019-06-05 06:57 pm (UTC)(link)
This fill was written for another prompt but it fits this one, too!: https://give-satisfaction.dreamwidth.org/2406.html?thread=215654#cmt215654

Re: Fill: Veritas

(Anonymous) 2019-06-05 07:01 pm (UTC)(link)
Good thinking! Thanks for the reminder - it's now linked!

Re: FILL: After Red

(Anonymous) 2019-06-05 09:15 pm (UTC)(link)
It's not repetitive, because the names keep the flow going in a way "the other man" "the taller man" "the aristocrat" etc. do not.

Re: FILL: After Red

(Anonymous) 2019-06-05 09:19 pm (UTC)(link)
This is INSANELY hot. Unnnff! The image of Jeeves, cigarette dangling from his mouth, shirtsleeves rolled up, calm and dangerous at the same time...it will take me some time to get over it! Well done!

Well done BDSM is one of my kinks and you hit it so good!

Re: FILL: After Red

(Anonymous) 2019-06-06 09:15 am (UTC)(link)
Writer here! Oh my, thank you so much for commenting! I'm really glad you enjoyed it!

(Anonymous) 2019-06-06 10:52 pm (UTC)(link)
Jeeves/Bertie; chubby!kink.

Jeeves has a serious Thing for chubby men. He likes Bertie, but Bertie's svelte physique is definitely not his type... that is, until Bertie starts gaining weight (accidentally? purposefully? as a result of Jeeves' sneaky extra home cooking? You decide!), and soon, Jeeves is reduced to an absolute puddle of lust. Mutual realisations and sexytimes ensue...

(Anonymous) 2019-06-07 07:00 pm (UTC)(link)
Bertie/Jeeves soulmate AU

Re: Fill: Spectator of the Show

(Anonymous) 2019-06-08 04:40 am (UTC)(link)
There's something menacing about Jeeves in this one...really unusual story!

(Anonymous) 2019-06-08 04:42 am (UTC)(link)
My goodness, I loved it!

Fill: Nauty Buoy

(Anonymous) 2019-06-08 07:57 am (UTC)(link)
Dear Bertram,

I hope this letter finds you whale. I have greatly enjoyed my fishing trip, although I have been thinking a-boat you a lot. I can sea weed have a wonderful time if you were here with me. The thought holds much al-lure, withtrout a doubt. I would enjoy watching my master bait the hook, fishing rod gripped in his hand. In fact, my flag is already at half-mast just thinking about it.

You cannot fathom the things I would do to you if you were here. Current-ly I am picturing you tide up. A nauty buoy like you deserves to have his bass spanked. I would be stern with you; you would bow before me.

Of course, it wouldn’t be all rough waters. Acting sel-fish would make me feel too gill-ty. In this relation-ship, I am the able seaman and you are the coxswain telling me just how to stroke. Above all, I value our intimasea. Moor often than knot, I want to either make love to you until we both keel over, oar just lay in bed and cuttle.

I harbor such tender affection for you. Yes, I reef-er to you as my master, but you’re so much more. Yes, the sex-tant is amazing, but my feelings for you go so much deeper. I must be strait with you: my emotions are reel. Please let minnow if you feel the same way.

I luff you,
Jeeves

P.S. You have often said that I must be of Viking ancestry, but I am not sure. On one hand, it is true that the Vikings transmitted their folklore and rituals orally, and I would love nothing more than to engage in a rich oral tradition with you. On the other hand, the Vikings believed in a pantheon of pagan gods, while I only worship one divine being (and he’s reading this letter right now).

(Anonymous) 2019-06-08 02:55 pm (UTC)(link)
I'm writing a fill for this one!!
thesadchicken: (bertie)

Re: Fill: Nauty Buoy

[personal profile] thesadchicken 2019-06-08 03:40 pm (UTC)(link)
This is a MASTERPIECE! hahaha I love it so much!
The title is genius, but my favorite part has got to be "my flag is already at half-mast just thinking about it."

(Anonymous) 2019-06-09 07:08 am (UTC)(link)
Ooo, not OP but I can't wait to read it.
thesadchicken: (bertie)

Re: Prompt Filled In Separate Post

[personal profile] thesadchicken 2019-06-10 08:18 pm (UTC)(link)
Just to clarify: I didn't answer or write that fill, it was someone else (darenotspeakitsname, if I'm not mistaken)

(Anonymous) 2019-06-11 12:07 pm (UTC)(link)
Prompt: Jeeves, Bertie, pre-slash, bed sharing, unexpectedly the unusual situation is somehow so strangely exciting that they are both not able to fall asleep

Fill: Valse Musette

(Anonymous) 2019-06-13 09:30 am (UTC)(link)
It occurred to me the other day that artfully navigating social relations is a bit like a dance. It is all too easy to misstep and tread on someone’s toes. One must maneuver with both confidence and caution, always remaining conscientious of one’s position relative to one’s partner. Lacking the proper savoir faire, all parties will leave feeling maladroit. At its best, it is a negotiation and a seduction.

This idea did not occur to me out of nowhere. To be specific, it occurred to me while I was dancing with Jeeves.

We were alone in a small parlour room that was located down the corridor from the main dancefloor of a gigantic ballroom. Hundreds of England’s eligible bachelorettes filled the premises and I had been thrown into the fray at the behest of an aunt. After a night of mishaps, misconduct, and misfortune, I had located my man and dragged him away from the main event to a secluded spot to beg for his assistance.

“…and that’s why Jacqueline thinks I want to marry her, and the only way to change her mind is to go out there and make her jealous by dancing with Josephine!” My voice cracked in despair as I finished my long, complex explanation of the night’s events. “And it can’t just be any old waltz, that would be too easy. No, all the dancers are expected to know something called the Valse Musette. Who has ever heard of such a blasted thing before?”

Jeeves coughed politely into his fist. “The dance in question is a close relative to the standard contemporary Viennese Waltz, sir. I had the opportunity to practice the variation at a charity subscription dance in Camberwell last year.”

My jaw dropped. “By Jove! Do you mean you know how to do the dratted thing?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Could teach me in the next ten minutes?”

“Well, sir…” He had an expression on his face that I recognized well, for I had seen it countless times before. I call it Fear of Impropriety, and it has been unleashed on all manner of sartorial blunders, domiciliary lapses, and social indiscretions.

“Please, you must help!” I exclaimed, going so far as to seize his lapels in anguish. I was ready to drop to my knees if need be. The FOI effect intensified. I let go of his jacket and it abated a little. He was silent in thought for a long moment.

“Yes, sir,” he said eventually, “I’ll teach you.”

“Thank you, thank you, Jeeves! You’re saving the young master from a fate worse than death, I assure you!”

The grim look on his face told me that he did not consider this hyperbole. Before I really knew what was happening, we were clutching each other in promenade position, one of his arms around my shoulders and one of my hands resting on his back. Our other hands were clasped and held aloft, out to the side. We were suddenly, surreally close.

I quite enjoy dancing and have learned a lot of different styles. The waltz is actually my favourite but I don’t get to practice it nearly as much as I’d like—I had ended up engaged to so many of my dance partners that I had basically been forced to swear it off altogether.

As Jeeves began teaching me the steps, I started to remember why this so often ended in near-nuptials: it’s dashed romantic. Not so fast that it’s frivolous, not so slow that it’s dull. Fashionable but not trendy. Twirly enough to sweep you off your feet but not give you vertigo.

I had never danced with someone taller than me, which was throwing me a bit off-kilter, but it was manageable. It helped that, even though Jeeves was teaching me, I was technically leading. He had set us up that way so I would be able to transfer my knowledge to Josephine.

I shuddered at that thought and brought my attention back to the present moment. Swaying with Jeeves was undoubtedly awkward but, at the same time, undeniably pleasant. He murmured instructions to me as we glided across the floor. After a while, I stopped listening to his words and just let his movements guide me. Reacting to his body language and physical cues was all I needed. I knew he was still talking because I could feel his chest rumbling under my hand where it rested on his back, but I could no longer hear his voice; he was able to steer me with nothing but small touches and subtle gestures. Eventually, he seemed to realize that speech was no longer necessary, and we continued our lesson silently. He and I were silent, that is; the orchestra playing in the main ballroom sounded distant but still quite audible. We kept rhythm with the muffled music.

He shuffled gracefully with decent footwork and upright, if somewhat stiff, posture. His formal poise lent a solemn dignity to his fleckerls and contra checks. He was adapting to the lady’s role remarkably well, considering he hadn’t been following when he learned this step, but retaining a few masculine habits was inevitable. I couldn’t fault him for tucking one arm smartly behind his back out of habit rather than sweeping it outward when we swung into fan position. I also noticed he was a little hesitant when I raised our clasped hands above his head and led him in a spin under my arm. He looked self-conscious as he turned on the spot, but he needn’t have felt embarrassed; he would never believe me if I told him how dashing he actually looked doing it.

His mouth was level with my cheek. I could sometimes feel his breath on my ear when we were close. When we turned out, moving apart from each other, I felt the strength in his fingers, the only thing left keeping us connected. When we came back together and our arms encircled each other once more, I felt a curious sense of gratitude, as if I were opening the exact Christmas present I had wanted but had never expected to actually receive.

From the outside, I knew it actually looked like nothing special, as our technique was merely adequate—we’re just amateurs, not professionals, after all. Plus, I wondered to myself, how could two men dancing together be seen as anything but comical and absurd? Yet, although this new step was unfamiliar to me, I felt lighter on my feet than ever before. And I felt a corresponding lightness in my heart.

Unfortunately all the turning was also making me light-headed. I misjudged a step and stumbled slightly; his bow tie grazed my cheek. This struck me as odd: granted, I had never danced with a partner wearing a tie before, but I couldn’t recall this happening in reverse (that is, none of the fillies I had danced with had ever become so intimately acquainted with my neckwear). I realized that my hand had slipped from his middle back down to his waist, which had pulled us gradually closer. I knew I should put it back where it belonged, but I also wanted to avoid drawing undue attention to its improper placement by moving it now, so I left it.

I kept noticing these small contrasts between this experience and my typical dance partners. His waist was thicker. His jacket was rougher than a ballgown. He felt solid and sturdy and I found myself clinging to him more than usual for a ballroom dance. This firmer connection allowed us to predict each other’s movements better, until it felt almost like we were reading each other’s minds.

I was glad, though, that he couldn’t literally read my mind, because I knew that some of the thoughts drifting across it would set off his FOI alarm like nothing else before. They were setting off mine, even, but for me, it was but the work of a moment to disable the alarm system, call off the hounds, and welcome the intruders in.

The intuitive ease and rightness of this physical exchange between us had me wondering what other kinds of physical encounters we could have that would be equally successful. Desire was rising in me, I couldn’t deny it. I started to reject it, shove it back down, as was always my instinct when these proclivities of mine started to assert themselves. But this time I couldn’t stop it, so instead, for once, I chose to embrace it. Would I choose to be a deviant, an invert? Of course not. Did I want to be an opportunist, greedily taking advantage of his subordinate? No, never. But did I want to keep holding this precious man, breathing him in, being saved by him, adoring him? Most assuredly, yes. Why couldn’t I have what I desired without having to be what I despised? I tried not to feel bitter that I was damned no matter what I did.

I could smell his aftershave, his collar starch, his pomade, and his plain Jeevesness. It was this last scent that gave me a sudden desire to go straight to the source and shove my face into the crook of his neck. I resisted the urge and placated myself by instead timing my inhales to those moments where we were more proximate.

The far-off music was reaching its crescendo. I held tight to one of his hands and spun him out away from me with a flourish. We made eye contact over our clasped hands and I couldn’t help but grin, watching the man turn on the end of my outstretched arm. He shocked me by grinning back. I pulled him back and he half-turned into me, his back pressed against my front. I held him there for a beat. Instinctively, I placed an arm at his lower back, inviting him into a dip; he shocked me again by accepting my invitation. It was a shallow dip, not as deep as I have often supported, but somehow I felt that I had never had a partner place so much trust into my hands. In the next room, the distant crowd cheered for the band’s performance. In my mind, they were cheering for us.

Although I pulled him back out of the dip slowly, my pulse raced. He reached the top but I didn’t loosen my protective grip on him. We stared at each other for several long moments. The air was tense between us and he looked reluctant to breathe it in. I wondered if my face was as flushed as his was. My eyes flickered to his lips and he licked them reflexively. I felt that urge to bury my face in his chest again, and God help me, this time I succumbed.

But I had barely begun my plunge when suddenly we were disengaged completely. He had sprung back as my eyes had drifted closed. They snapped open again and I felt suddenly unmoored.

“It is my opinion that you are proficient in the variation, sir. You should hurry back to the ballroom and find Ms. Balmain as soon as possible,” he said impassively.

“Er, right," I fumbled. "Yes. Thank you for the lesson, Jeeves. You’re not at all a bad dancer, you know.”

“You’re kind to say so, sir.”

Possibly sensing that I was going to keep drawing out this conversation, he floated away, leaving not a trace behind.

I was sorry to see him go, and even sorrier to think of what I had to do next. But at the same time, I felt a great optimism for the future. That wasn’t the kind of experience you have just once and never seek again. That was the kind of experience you repeat and escalate, the kind of impetus that only gains momentum. We had been building to this negotiation for some time, and on some deeper level, we both knew it. I felt certain that, although the song may be over, our dance was only just beginning.

Re: Fill: Valse Musette

(Anonymous) 2019-06-13 02:12 pm (UTC)(link)
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

That's about as coherently as I can express myself. *heart eyes*

Re: Fill: Valse Musette

(Anonymous) 2019-06-13 11:02 pm (UTC)(link)
OH. Oh gosh. So many emotions. The longing, that beautiful moment where Bertie realizes that he loves him, dammit, he loves him, and "in my mind, they were cheering for us". I AM WEEPING. THIS IS SO GOOD.

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