That Fjord didn’t even bother to fight him when he offered the bed let Molly know something was really wrong. Not even a spell. Just the suggestion of using one.
That was really, really messed up.
“Do I have to?” Fjord said, voice a soft whine after Molly’s prompting. He sounded miserable. Molly, despite himself, started brushing his forehead, and promptly pulled his hand away. His skin was scalding; even with his own resistance to fire it was uncomfortable. “It’s embarrassing.” So he left to make excuses. Fjord had been pretty adamant about Jester not seeing him like that; as much as he hated to do it, he recruited Beau for help to keep her distracted. Thankfully, Beau did understand that sometimes you had to lick your wounds in peace, and didn’t come after either of them. Instead she cut Jester off and kept her busy for the rest of the afternoon. Afterwards, he had gotten Fjord comfortable and out of his armor, without making more panic or nerves.
That night though… Molly laid down, stretching out, sighing at how warm he was going to get in his clothes, but he was not going to touch Fjord in any way he might not want tonight. At all.
The decision was quickly taken out of his hands, when in the middle of the night, he was enveloped by an affectionate green octopus. He awoke to Fjord’s face buried in his shirt, one leg flung over his while he started grinding against his thigh. Heat leaked out to soak Molly’s trousers. From the way he sounded, he was close to coming.
He bit his lip, thought hard of mucking stables, and woke Fjord up.
It was a little too easy to pry information from Fjord when he was like this, and Molly felt a bit guilty to use whatever this was to get some information out of him. So he didn’t bring up the orb and that weirdness. Instead, he focused on the fact that Fjord was ill.
He hadn’t really thought about a reason for why Fjord was so skittish around sex and sexuality; it had just been funny to get him flustered. He had figured that Fjord was just someone who had a prudish background. Now… he started to get the impression that there were other reasons.
“How long has this been happening?” he asked, after returning to Fjord with something to drink and a handful of towels.
Fjord had just looked at him, eyes unfocused with fever. “Started this afternoon.”
“No- I mean, how long?”
“I was… eleven, the first time?”
That was enough to make Molly freeze. “You’ve been going through these since you were a literal child?”
“Half-orc.” Sweat was pouring off his face. “We grow fast. At least, that’s what the Nurse said. Told me… be careful.” His voice trailed off. “She was nearly out of penny royal and wild carrot seeds. Might not have any for next year.”
“I think there’s a lot of people in Port Damali I need to visit,” Molly answered, bloody vengeance on his mind. Fucking hell, Fjord, he didn’t say. He couldn’t do anything about it now. Just keep Fjord comfortable. “So… every year since you were… a child?” He nearly choked on the words.
“Yeah.”
Fucking hell. Fucking hell that filled in just enough gaps for his imagination to run wild.
Mollymauk/Fjord A/B/O mpreg, breeding kink, Someone to Remember Him By (5/?)
That was really, really messed up.
“Do I have to?” Fjord said, voice a soft whine after Molly’s prompting. He sounded miserable. Molly, despite himself, started brushing his forehead, and promptly pulled his hand away. His skin was scalding; even with his own resistance to fire it was uncomfortable. “It’s embarrassing.”
So he left to make excuses. Fjord had been pretty adamant about Jester not seeing him like that; as much as he hated to do it, he recruited Beau for help to keep her distracted. Thankfully, Beau did understand that sometimes you had to lick your wounds in peace, and didn’t come after either of them. Instead she cut Jester off and kept her busy for the rest of the afternoon. Afterwards, he had gotten Fjord comfortable and out of his armor, without making more panic or nerves.
That night though… Molly laid down, stretching out, sighing at how warm he was going to get in his clothes, but he was not going to touch Fjord in any way he might not want tonight. At all.
The decision was quickly taken out of his hands, when in the middle of the night, he was enveloped by an affectionate green octopus. He awoke to Fjord’s face buried in his shirt, one leg flung over his while he started grinding against his thigh. Heat leaked out to soak Molly’s trousers. From the way he sounded, he was close to coming.
He bit his lip, thought hard of mucking stables, and woke Fjord up.
It was a little too easy to pry information from Fjord when he was like this, and Molly felt a bit guilty to use whatever this was to get some information out of him. So he didn’t bring up the orb and that weirdness. Instead, he focused on the fact that Fjord was ill.
He hadn’t really thought about a reason for why Fjord was so skittish around sex and sexuality; it had just been funny to get him flustered. He had figured that Fjord was just someone who had a prudish background. Now… he started to get the impression that there were other reasons.
“How long has this been happening?” he asked, after returning to Fjord with something to drink and a handful of towels.
Fjord had just looked at him, eyes unfocused with fever. “Started this afternoon.”
“No- I mean, how long?”
“I was… eleven, the first time?”
That was enough to make Molly freeze. “You’ve been going through these since you were a literal child?”
“Half-orc.” Sweat was pouring off his face. “We grow fast. At least, that’s what the Nurse said. Told me… be careful.” His voice trailed off. “She was nearly out of penny royal and wild carrot seeds. Might not have any for next year.”
“I think there’s a lot of people in Port Damali I need to visit,” Molly answered, bloody vengeance on his mind. Fucking hell, Fjord, he didn’t say. He couldn’t do anything about it now. Just keep Fjord comfortable. “So… every year since you were… a child?” He nearly choked on the words.
“Yeah.”
Fucking hell. Fucking hell that filled in just enough gaps for his imagination to run wild.