Let The Kinkiness Begin!
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give_satisfactionAnd 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.
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
NOTE: IP logging is off.
Comment screening is off.
The subscriber and posting access lists are hidden.
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.
no subject
Date: 2019-05-07 02:39 pm (UTC)part 1
Date: 2019-05-08 06:27 pm (UTC)-----------------
All he can feel is the headache, sharp, slicing through his temples, and then suddenly it’s gone. That is what wakes him: the lack of pain. He blinks, but wherever he is, it is dark. His neck is stiff, his arms folded – no, tied! – behind his back. As soon as he realises this, he scrambles to his feet. It is difficult to find his balance, but he manages. His eyes start to adjust to the dimness around him; he sees the room, grey and empty except for a time-battered table in the corner. He takes an unsteady step forward and walks on something. He looks down: it’s his bowler hat.
“Reginald Jeeves,” a voice calls out.
Jeeves looks up as the door at the end of the room opens, and someone is shoved inside. Hair the color of polished bronze, tall, thin, long-limbed. Bertie Wooster. A second figure enters – broad shoulders, wide hands, and the unmistakable gleam of a gun between the fingers.
“Took you a while to recover. I didn’t think I’d hit you that hard,” the man says, amused.
Bertie’s arms are tied behind his back as well, and he is gagged. His suit is rumpled and creased, his tie hanging loose at his neck. Jeeves’ first instinct is to run towards him, but the man with the gun grabs Bertie roughly by the hair and forces him to his knees.
“Unhand him!” Jeeves cries.
“You’re in no position to give orders, I’m afraid,” the man replies.
“What do you want from Mr. Wooster?” Jeeves asks, heart pounding.
“From him?” the man gives Bertie a sharp kick in the ribs, making him yelp through the gag, “Nothing. He’s here because of you.”
“I don’t understand… Why are you doing this?” Jeeves hears the confusion in his own voice, and it startles even him. He isn’t used to being confused.
“You ask why, Reginald Jeeves?” the man is angry now, the gun in his hand more menacing than ever, “You don’t even remember, do you? I was just released from prison.”
“I don’t –” Jeeves starts to speak, but his voice falters as he finally recognises the brute.
It was years ago. Before Mr. Wooster. Jeeves was young then, too young, too clever, with eyes that saw too much, and a mind that simmered with schemes. “Theft is a crime, Mister Acton,” he remembers himself saying, a triumphant smile tugging at his lips, “and so is blackmail.” He remembers the man being carried away by the police as Jeeves watched proudly, and Lord Everly clasping him on the back, saying, “Well done, Jeeves my boy!”
He exposed a criminal. Won the gratitude of a wealthy man. But most of all, he felt sure of his own cleverness, proud of his unwavering intellect. Justice was served and Jeeves was content. So he forgot.
But Acton did not. Here he is now, and he is holding a gun dangerously close to Bertie’s trembling body.
“This has nothing to do with him,” Jeeves rasps, his throat turning dry, “Let him go.”
Acton smiles for the first time. “Oh, I think not.” He pulls Bertie to his feet and pushes him against the table in the corner of the room. Bertie cowers in fear, his blue eyes meeting Jeeves’. They’re desperate and frightened and Jeeves can hardly bear it.
Acton shoves Bertie one last time then turns to Jeeves, walking towards him slowly, then circling him like a lion its prey. “Sodomy is a crime, Mister Jeeves,” Acton says, echoing Jeeves’ words from years and years ago. Jeeves’ stomach lurches.
He should have been more careful. He should have known that this would happen – but he forgot, he forgot about Acton, rotting in prison, plotting his revenge. The brute has obviously done his research. Jeeves feels sick; to think that this revolting man went looking into his past – his lovers, his letters, his secrets. And then there’s Bertie’s presence… Jeeves is no idiot. He knows the police are coming for him. Acton must have stolen an old letter, or a note, or worse: Jeeves’ journal. Something to incriminate him: proof of his love for men. A certain man.
“Don’t do this,” Jeeves mutters, glaring at Acton. “You may punish me, but he is innocent.”
“Not for long,” Acton spits. He points his gun at Bertie, still shivering beside the table in the corner. With his free hand, he reaches for a knife in his trousers. “I’m going to untie you, but one wrong move and I shoot him.”
Jeeves feels the knife press against his wrists, then a tug, and the rope binding him is gone. For a moment, he considers bashing Acton’s face in with his bare hands, but the gun pointed directly at Bertie’s head dissuades him.
Acton starts circling Jeeves again, his grip firm on the gun. “I was saying, Mister Jeeves, that sodomy is a crime. A crime of which you are guilty.”
Jeeves tries to ignore the sharp intake of breath from Bertie. He is staring, wide-eyed. Jeeves has never felt ashamed of himself for being this way, and yet now his neck burns with the humiliation of being exposed in front of his employer. In front of the man he loves in secret.
Re: part 1
Date: 2019-05-20 08:02 pm (UTC)Re: part 1
Date: 2019-08-04 02:38 am (UTC)Re: part 1
Date: 2019-08-04 02:39 am (UTC)part 2
Date: 2019-05-08 06:28 pm (UTC)Jeeves shakes his head, unbelieving. “Mr. Wooster is my employer –”
“Don’t insult me,” Acton says, “I’ve been trailing you for months, I know everything. You want him: well then, take him.”
Jeeves does want Bertie. More than anything. He has dreamed of it, a thousand, thousand times. But not like this. God, not like this.
“What are you waiting for?” Acton is losing patience, the gun shaking in his hands.
Jeeves cannot look at Bertie, although he feels the young man’s eyes on him. For a moment, he considers letting the brute shoot them both. But then Acton grabs Bertie by the hair and presses the gun to his temple. “If you don’t bugger him against this table right now, I’ll do it – and I won’t be gentle,” he says. Bertie struggles, whimpering through the gag.
Jeeves cannot breathe, cannot think – he stands there shaking his head. Acton bends Bertie over the table, pressing his head into the wood. “Your choice, Jeeves. You can do it yourself, or watch me demonstrate on him what I’ve learned in prison.”
“No!” Jeeves cries, “I’ll do it.”
“I knew you would,” Acton snickers.
Bertie looks up just as Acton lets go of him, and Jeeves hurries to his side. He quickly removes the gag and unties Bertie’s hands. “I am sorry, sir,” he whispers, and Bertie’s eyes are full of fear, and confusion, and something else.
“Jeeves...” is all he can say, pleadingly. He is shaking like a leaf.
Jeeves wants to hold him, keep him safe, but Acton is there, hovering behind them. “Get on with it,” he yells.
Bertie shakes his head. “Oh my God, Jeeves… Please…”
“Forgive me, sir,” Jeeves closes his eyes. He cannot look at Bertie’s face as he turns him around, bends him over the table. He uses his spit to prepare him. He tries to be gentle, soothing, but his hands are trembling. He has no choice. It is this or the unspeakable, the unthinkable. So he lowers Bertie’s trousers and underclothing, and tears sting his eyes as he thinks ‘I have dreamed of this for so long… but never this way…’
Bertie is crying. Jeeves hears him sob, sees the tears staining the wood, and he is sure he is going to be sick. When he lowers his own trousers, he stops. He will not be able to… not like this…
“I – I cannot…” he says.
“You’ll have to,” Acton replies, “You know what happens if you don’t.”
Bertie’s hands grip the table until his knuckles go white. Jeeves touches his hip, trying to comfort him. He wishes he could hold him in his arms, dry his tears. After this – if he ever walks out of here freely – Bertie will hate him. He will look at him with disgust and anger and he will fear him, and loathe him.
“Come now, Jeeves,” Acton smiles, clearly enjoying this, “he’s laid out for you like you’ve always wanted.”
And that is when something happens, a small movement, but it is enough. Jeeves sees it, and he knows that whatever comes, they will bear it together. The moment Acton speaks those words, Bertie turns his head to look up at Jeeves, and beneath the tears and the fear and the anger there is love. Love so strong, so pure, that it cuts through Jeeves’ heart like a knife. Utter devotion. Loyalty and understanding.
He forces his body into arousal. He strokes himself until he is ready. “I’m sorry,” he leans in and whispers into Bertie’s ear, placing a soft kiss on his back.
“It’s not your fault, old thing,” Bertie whispers back. It breaks Jeeves’ heart.
The moment before it happens, they are both very still. Then Jeeves is pushing into Bertie, and Bertie is moaning. He is warm and soft and everything Jeeves dreamed he was. He hates himself for enjoying this, hates himself for getting harder as he slides all the way in. He moves slowly, carefully. He wants to come quickly so it will all end, but he is horrified by what that entails.
Suddenly he feels Bertie move too, matching his slow thrusts. Jeeves looks down at the place their bodies meet, and he cannot help the moan that escapes him. Bertie looks up at him. “I’ve… wanted this… for so long…” the young man says, breathlessly.
“You – you wanted… me?” Jeeves thinks he must be delirious with pleasure and guilt and shame.
“Yes…” Bertie moans, “I – I love you, Jeeves. I have… always… loved you…”
He comes, gasping, pushing hard into Bertie’s body as he spills into him. For a moment, there is only heat, and those three words. Then Bertie comes too, spurting onto the table with a cry of pleasure.
Jeeves turns him around and takes him into his arms. “I love you too… more than anything or anyone…”
It is the one thing Acton had not anticipated. The one thing he dismissed and the one thing that ruins his cruel plans. For when the police arrive, Bertie does not expose Jeeves. No, Bertie stands next to Jeeves and describes him as a hero, his saviour. “It was that man,” he says, pointing to Acton, “who abused me… Jeeves tried to prevent it.”
Acton is furious to the point of madness. He raises his hand to fire the gun, but the police are fast in seizing him.
“What you have done is a crime, Mister Acton,” Jeeves says as they carry the revolting man away, “but love is not.”
Re: part 2
Date: 2019-05-08 07:25 pm (UTC)Re: part 2
Date: 2019-05-08 08:47 pm (UTC)Re: part 2
Date: 2019-05-09 06:57 am (UTC)Re: part 2
Date: 2019-08-04 02:44 am (UTC)