wethecrack | Kink meme/fic meme the zillionth

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Kink meme/fic meme the zillionth

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-Post a prompt, gen, kinky, the works!
-People reply with drabbles/picture fills
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Bertie tries to wrangle sheep, things go poorly. Ienzo has to swoop in and kiss it better.

I got kind of carried away with this. Contains oral sex and also some description of a serious leg injury at the start but not in the sexy parts.

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When it comes to shepherding, one of the many advantages of the corgi breed is that its short legs and stocky body makes for a low center of gravity, such that if a sheep should try to kick one, the blow would either miss the dog entirely or clip its back such that it would send it rolling rather than bear the brunt of the impact. Bertie Wooster, however, being both a biped and just over six feet tall had none of these advantages, and thus when Stilton grew tired of his efforts to return him to the pen after a day of grazing his knee took the full force his irritation.

“It certainly doesn’t look good,” says Ienzo, kneeling on the ground in front of him and inspecting his leg while he sits on the bed. “You heal quickly enough that I can’t imagine it will stay that way for long, but if you’d like I can try to hurry the process.”

“Please,” Bertie says through gritted teeth, his eyes watering slightly at the pain. It isn’t nearly as bad as when Law had lopped the other one off clean at the knee, but that’s really not a very fair standard to hold one’s injuries to. If this can be over sooner rather than later, well. What kind of person would choose the latter?

Ienzo hums to himself thoughtfully, a warm green glow surrounding his fingertips as he tests his magic, before saying, “I’m going to need you to remove your trousers.”

“What?” Ienzo sighs, looking more than a little bashful.

“A good healer can work through layers of clothing or even armor, but I’m afraid I’m only a novice at best. I need to see what I’m doing, and with your knee as swollen as it is I’m not sure it’s a good idea to try to roll your pants up over it rather than just take them off entirely. Here.” He stands and turns so they’re both facing the same direction, leaning down and slipping his arm around Bertie’s back for support. “Use my shoulder.”

Bertie hesitates, tentative for multiple reasons, but eventually his trust in Ienzo and the desire for the nearly unbearable pain in his knee to end win out. Carefully, the two of them rise to their feet again - or just the one foot in Bertie’s case as he gingerly keeps his weight off the injured leg - where he uses his free hand to undo the buckle of his belt and slide his trousers down to mid-thigh, then eases back into sitting on the bed. Removing them the rest of the way proves to be something of a trial of minced oaths and “hold still”s, but between the two of them they manage, and Ienzo kneels down again, positioning himself between his fiance’s legs.

As gently as he can manage, he begins ghosting his hands over Bertie’s leg, his palms just barely brushing the skin as he starts at the calf and works up to mid thigh and back down again. Swirls of mist-like energy gather around his hands and curl into shapes like vines and leaves, lingering around Bertie’s skin before dissipating with a warm tingling sensation.

“Does that feel any better?” he asks.

“Ah, quite,” says Bertie, smiling down at him. It’s still painful, the skin mottled with bruises and his kneecap still swollen and misshapen, but he’s much more able to keep his composure as it is now. “Have you been practicing? I daresay you’re much better at this whole tending to the wounded business than you were back when we first met. Leagues ahead, even.”

Ienzo beams up at him, blushing brilliantly. “Well, I’m sure only some of it is my doing. The rate at which you heal is truly astounding on its own, after all. I’m only helping things along. If you want me to continue, though, I’m going to have to press more firmly, and it may hurt. I’ve healed all the damage I can reach like this.”

“You needn’t worry about me. I think you’ll find we Woosters are made of sterner stuff,” he responds, and then regrets it slightly as Ienzo digs his thumbs into the delicate skin just below his kneecap. Only slightly, though, as the sharp pain soon fades into the surreal sensation of cracked bone clicking back into place. The swelling recedes and the bruising fades as Ienzo works over his skin and muscle, kneading with his fingers and rubbing tight circles with the pads of his thumbs. The pain dissipates into almost nothing by the third pass, only to be replaced by something entirely different as Ienzo checks over the tendons running up the inside of his thigh, fingertips skirting the hem of his underclothes. It doesn’t take long for him to notice the effect he’s having.

“Oh!” Falling back on his haunches, he pulls his hands away, eyes snapping up to Bertie’s. “I’m sorry - I should have asked if that was alright. I- I can stop now, if you’d prefer that I-”

“It’s fine!” Bertie half-yells. The two of them having gone matching shades of red and he’s not sure whether he should cover himself or try to will the ground to swallow him up first. “And no, I’m sorry - you don’t have to continue, I’ll be quite fine from here on, so if you’d prefer to get back to our rounds that’s perfectly alright.”

Ienzo doesn’t move. Neither does Bertie. They sit there, gaze locked on one another for a long moment before Ienzo speaks again.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No.”

“Would you like me to keep going?”

“I- yes. I would.”

Silently, not taking his eyes from Bertie’s, Ienzo sinks back down onto his knees and sets to work again, massaging the muscles of his calf and thigh, pressing the heels of his hands gently into the areas of greatest tension until they steadily begin to relax. This time, though, he leans down and plants a soft kiss on Bertie’s knee, trailing his lips across the skin as he goes and with each pass his hands rove farther up his thigh until he has two fingers hooked into the waistband of the other man’s underwear and his head between his legs, now spread wide to accommodate him. Again, Ienzo pulls back and looks up at Bertie, questioningly.

“Please,” he all but pants, skin flushed and shaking like a leaf, and Ienzo smirks up at his lover and pulls his cock free in one deft movement. By now Bertie is achingly hard, but Ienzo continues to take his time, slowly running his fingertips over the crests of his hipbones before finally taking his member in hand. His fingertips are rough from a lifetime of work with chemicals and the elements, but he’s careful, stroking gently with the softest part of his palm and squeezing as he kisses a trail across the inside of his thigh until he reaches the apex and - quite unexpectedly - slowly swipes his tongue along the underside of Bertie’s shaft, all the way from base to tip. It’s all Bertie can do not to buck his hips against the sensation, the wet heat of Ienzo’s breath and he braces his feet against the floor and trembles with the effort.

“Relax,” Ienzo says, curling his fingers around him again as he speaks. “You’re still healing, and I don’t want you to strain yourself.” He rises to his feet and leans over his fiance instead and catches his lips in a deep kiss, still stroking him as he pushes the other man back until he’s propped up on his elbows. “Let me do this for you,” he murmurs, so close to Bertie’s ear that his lips brush against the lobe. Ienzo pulls back leaving more kisses as he goes - sending shivers down Bertie’s spine as he feels the smaller man’s teeth just barely nip at his collarbone - and down his chest and stomach until he’s kneeling again. With little pause for ceremony, Ienzo takes a deep breath and takes the tip of Bertie’s cock into his mouth.

It’s not something he’s experienced in, but he supposes it’s not something Bertie’s experienced in receiving either, so it evens out in a way. He runs his tongue over and around the smooth head and begins to bob slightly, taking a little more of his length each time until he’s just shy of gagging. Meanwhile his hands are still busy at work, one gently squeezing what his mouth can’t reach and the other pressing insistently at the sensitive patch of skin just below Bertie’s equipment and Bertie’s gasping and moaning for all his attempts to stay quiet.

“Ienzo, oh god, Ienzo, you’re wonderful.” The mage can only hum in response, but the slight vibration is just enough to send Bertie over the edge. He comes, the force of his orgasm shaking him to his core, and Ienzo pulls back just in time to catch it with his face, the white splattering over the bridge of his nose and across his lips, and flashes Bertie a lopsided grin.

“Better?” he asks, getting back to his feet, the opportunity to stretch his legs welcome after so long on his knees. Bertie nods, mutely. “Do you think you can walk on your own?” Again, he nods. “Good. Then I’m going to go wash up, if you’d care to join me.”

And from the tone of his voice and the way he loosens his ascot and begins unbuttoning his shirt before he even finishes speaking, Bertie gets the very strong impression that Ienzo doesn’t intend to take turns in the bath.