CR Campaign Two: Mighty Nein era (characters)

[criticalkink]

The rules are under the cut for you to read if you haven't already checked out the profile!



Welcome to the kink meme for Critical Role!

This community is open to all fans of Critical Role no matter what your preference for pairing may be. You do not have to join the community: you can either watch it or just track the post. Anon commenting will always be on, and IP tracking will be off. So feel free to stay anon if it makes you more comfortable.

What is a Kink Meme?
It's pretty simple. You post a prompt and your fellow fans get inspired and write fic based on that prompt. As it is a "kink" meme, a great deal of fic will be of the smutty variety, so if you aren't into that or not of a porn-reading age, this place won't be for you. Not all fic has to be smutty, but it does have to be kinky.

Clarification: This is a kink meme, therefore prompts must be kink-based. It is not a general prompting/headcanons meme. There have been a couple of people confused by that, so we're just making it extra clear.

Please only post one prompt per comment so to avoid any confusion.

How do I prompt?
Post each prompt as a new comment to the main post. Include pairing (or threesome or more if that's your thing) and anything else you want to add. You should put, at the very least, the pairing in the subject line along with a specific kink if it applies. You can put the whole prompt in the subject if it will fit, but if it doesn't, use the comments. For example:

Subject line: Beauregard/Jester, friends to lovers

Body of comment: Jester's been letting Beau use her for sparring practice. That kind of proximity does things to a tiefling.

I see a prompt I want to write! What now?
Go for it! You don't have to claim it, and fills can be written by more than one person. Once you've finished you must post it as a response to the original comment. Responses should use a subject line that includes the pairing, rating & any necessary warnings (i.e. incest, non-con, etc.). If you have titled your fic you can also include that. Also, as LJ limits the size of comments, if your fic goes into multiple comments, please note that your comment is part 1/5, part 2/5 and so on. Using the prompt above, the subject line could read:

"Punches and Pastries, Jester/Beauregard, M, 1/3"

And now some rules...

• Since we're all supposed to be adults here, let's act like it. Be respectful to your fellow posters.
  
• Your kink is not someone else's and their kink may not be yours. If you don't like it, don't read it. It's really that simple.
  
• Please no bashing of other pairings. Just like with kinks, everyone has their own flavors, and this is neither the time nor place for ship wars. This meme is meant to include the entire fandom.
  
• Crossover prompts are allowed, but they must include a Critical Role character as a main part of the prompt.
  
• RPF is also allowed, but please prompt it over here!
  
• Het, slash, femmeslash? You're all welcome here. The more the merrier!
  
• It's not a requirement by any means, but writers love feedback, so if you read something you enjoy, take a second to tell the writer. Whether it's a one word response or something longer, it's always appreciated.
  
• Please follow basic kink meme etiquette by not linking the cast or crew to this meme.

While we want this to be a relaxed and cool place, we also don't want people to feel uncomfortable being here. If you have suggestions or comments on how this community can improve please address to them to criticalkink in a PM or drop a comment on this post.

The most important rule of all? HAVE FUN.


Now go forth and prompt!

Comments

"just finish the daydream," Nott/Mollymauk, E, 2/3, dysphoria + anxiety + consensual Charm Person

[(Anonymous)]

Of course she didn't fight. What was to fight? This was Molly. He was her friend. She could trust him. He wouldn't hurt her. The certainty of it pooled warm in her chest, and she smiled, leaning her forehead against his.

“You're a really good kisser,” she said. Her voice was oddly steady in her ears. “I like it.”

“Good,” he said, and kissed her again. “So, are you going to let me get this off now?” He tugged at her shirt; she covered his hand with hers.

“It isn't because I don't trust you,” she said, letting her forehead fall comfortably against his shoulder. “It's just... I told you before I don't like how I look. I don't like that this is me.” She gestured vaguely to her own body, her own limbs. “I don't know if I want you to look at it.”

“I don't care,” he said, running his hand up and down her back – a gentle, soothing touch, as his voice was gentle, but both made her skin go cold a little. “There's no one here but me, and if I like how you look, what's the problem?”

“The problem is that I'm still a monster,” she said, lifting her head from his shoulder. “Physically, I mean, not, you know, as a person.” (Anymore.) “The problem is that I'm not okay with it.”

Molly scoffed. “You're not –”

“Look,” she cut him off, shushing him with a finger against his lips, “I'll start being okay with it if you start finding out more about Lucien. How's that?”

Molly's mouth snapped shut, lips thinning.

“Uh-huh, that's what I thought.” Nott slid off the bed, reaching for the ties of her shirt. “Tell you what,” she said, focusing on the floorboards, “I'll get everything off, just – let me do it, all right? Don't make a thing about it.” She glanced over her shoulder, where Molly was watching her, eyes narrow. Guilt turned her stomach, heavy as rot. Some part of her remembered it was the magic making her feel close to him, but it was a distant fact, irrelevant: what mattered was that right now he felt like her friend, and she had argued with him, and she hated arguing with friends. She didn't want to test what her friendships could or couldn't bear.

“I'm sorry I snapped at you,” she said, and returned to the businesslike work of stripping down. She didn't spend a great deal of time fully naked; her skin was mottled different shades of green, sun-darkened in the few places that the fabric didn't regularly cover.

Molly at least didn't look angry, when she turned back; she couldn't tell how he looked at all. His eyes traveled over her, lingering. Her shoulders hunched. “Hold on a moment, just, maybe –” The bed was a mess already; she climbed back on the mattress, tugging the top sheet loose until she could drape it over herself a bit. She could feel her ears burning, embarrassed and hot. “I'm not saying you can't move it or anything,” she said, glancing up at Molly. “Just... so I'm not completely naked. It helps.” She licked her lips. “Is this all right?” He was frowning.

“I can work with it,” was all he said, but he reached out, rubbing his thumb along her cheek. His touch lingered at the corner of her mouth.

“Sorry about the... teeth,” she couldn't help but say, tugging the sheet a little higher on her chest.

“I'm into the teeth.”

“...What?” Nott blinked up at him.

“I'm into the teeth,” he repeated with a shrug, as if it were a normal sentiment. “I like being bitten, and no one with teeth like yours has bitten me yet. In bed, anyway,” he added, conscientiously. “They're not a disadvantage.”

“You – are you sure? They're pretty sharp.” Something roiled in Nott's gut – her teeth frightened people, her teeth could leave marks on bone – but Molly grinned as if it were completely ordinary.

“Oh, I'm sure,” he said, tilting his head to the side, and pulled down the collar of his shirt to bare his throat to her. His fingers tapped the side of his neck: unmarked purple skin, not the brilliant spread of the peacock's tail. “I'm completely serious, go on.” His own teeth glinted.

“Well, if you're really sure...” she said doubtfully, and leaned up, fixing her mouth over the tight pull of his tendon. His skin was hot under her mouth, faintly sweat-salty. No stubble. She let her teeth brush him, and he snorted.

“Come on, like you mean it,” he said; she could feel the motion of his jaw against her cheek. “I like it to hurt, really.” Closing her eyes, she bit down sharp, and he moaned, deep and showy. Then the taste of salt and iron bloomed across her tongue, and she threw herself backwards, retching.

“I'm sorry!” she wailed, and gagged again, her whole body wrenching. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I hurt you, I'm so sorry, I didn't want to hurt you – you're my friend, I would never hurt you, I care about you, I'm so sorry, I hurt you, I'm so sorry, please, please, forgive me, I didn't want to, I'm sorry –”

“Nott, Nott, hey, Nott!” His fingers tapped twice against her cheek, not quite a blow but sharp enough to rattle her thoughts looser in her head. He caught her jaw, turning her head up to meet his eyes. “Nott, come on, stay with me. It's fine. I'm fine. You barely touched me. I've done worse to myself today, you watched me do it. You didn't do anything wrong.”

“I'm not a monster!” she wailed, wiping at her mouth. He didn't let go of her jaw; the back of her hand rubbed against his fingers. “I don't like hurting people!”

“Of course you're not,” he said. “Come on. It's fine. I'm fine, you're fine, you didn't do anything I didn't ask you to do. It's fine.” He pressed his lips against her forehead, still holding on to her jaw. “Come on, stay with me.”

The touch calmed her more than the words; the touch, and the gentleness lying easy on his voice. In and out she breathed, in and out, until her heartbeat slowed. With the calm came embarrassment; she lifted her head, knowing her ears drooped.

“Sorry about that,” she said, ignoring the burning her cheeks. “I... that was a very strong reaction that I just had, and I did not know it was going to happen, and I apologize.” Molly only shrugged.

“I'm going to call that one a two-person fuck-up,” he said, and brushed a kiss to her forehead again. “So, no more biting.”

“Are we going to keep trying?” Nott asked, blinking. “I was thinking I should just go.” Molly raised his eyebrows.

“Someone threw up on my crotch one time,” he said, “and we just mopped it up and kept going. You're welcome to go if you want, but, well.” He shrugged. “What's a little psychological damage between friends?”

“Well, all right,” Nott said doubtfully, glancing down at herself. His fingers were loose on her jaw. She was mottled and ugly and clearly not worth his trouble, next to all his shining silk. “Did you have a plan B?”

“Plan B is I get my mouth on you and we take it from there,” Molly said, and leaned in to catch her lips with his again. It was slower now, and gentle, coaxing: the faintest press of his teeth, the lightest trace of his tongue, kiss after kiss after lingering kiss. By the end of the night she would have spent more time kissing him than she might have spent kissing anyone her whole life.

“I know you're not a monster,” he murmured, low against her mouth. “You're a thief, and you stick your nose into a whole lot of places it doesn't belong, and you're about as shitty as the rest of us, but you're not any worse. If people see a monster when they look at you, that's their problem. It's got nothing to do with you, any more than people calling me a monster has anything to do with me. Fuck them.”

“It's not that easy,” she protested, a low whisper against his mouth.

“Apparently not.” His breath was a rough, rueful huff of laughter against her mouth. He rested his forehead against hers. “I don't know what to tell you, it's the thing I've always done.” He didn't sound at all like he had when he told them how short his memories were, but she was reminded anyway.

“I don't want you to tell me anything,” she said, shifting her grip on his shoulders. “I already told you, I'm not going to change how I feel about... this.” She waved vaguely to herself. “Just... kiss me again? That part felt nice.”

His mouth twisted a little, a wry shape that she suspected meant he wanted to say something else, but all he said was, “I can do that.” And he did: more soft pressure of his lips, more slow caressing strokes of his tongue, giving her time to lose herself in the touch. Minute by minute the heat flickered to life under her breastbone again.

“Better?” he asked, pulling back.

“Very nice,” she promised him. “You're very good at that.” Praise, reassurance, encouragement: those she could offer easily, if that's what he wanted from her. She was good at this part, even. And he really was a good kisser.

“I know,” he said, but he smiled, his tail flicking up in happy curls. “I'm good at this too.” And with that he lowered his mouth to her throat, dragging his tongue along the line of her tendon.

“Oh!” Nott shivered. “Oh, you are.” Molly's tail swished smugly, the tufts brushing against her leg; he pressed a kiss at the edge of her jaw, over thin and flushing skin. She clutched at his shoulders, his shirt crumpling in her hands.

“Wait, hold on.” Her voice cracked in the middle of it, but he lifted his head.

“Too much?” he asked.

“No, no, but... I'm extremely naked, and you aren't.” Molly blinked at her. “It's a little unbalanced, isn't it?”

“Fair enough,” he said, shrugging, and sat up, flicking the laces of his shirt loose. He reached up to unfasten his necklaces, and Nott made a soft low sound of objection. He paused, one hand still on the nape of his neck. “Hm?”

“Maybe...” She could feel her cheeks burning. “Maybe just... leave the jewelry on?”

The smile bloomed across his face until he was beaming in sheer delight. It made him look boyish, and suddenly young. “You want me wearing just the jewelry?” he said. “I can make that happen.”

“If it isn't too much trouble,” Nott said, and leaned back to watch as he eased his shirt over his horns. It wasn't as if she hadn't seen him naked – everyone saw Molly naked – but she hadn't been looking to appreciate, before. He was all lithe muscle and bright color, the scarred ridges of his skin catching the light. His necklaces fell in the hollow of his chest, highlighting the sharp-defined ridge of his muscles. His bracelets glinted over the wiry muscle and bone of his wrists; his horn chains glittered in the flickering candleflame. All of it made her mouth go dry, go hungry: not to take his things from him, but to take him, treasure and all. It was a much better itch than her usual kind. A wet and wanting itch.

“This may take a moment,” he said, hitching one leg up onto the bed, and started unfastening the buckles on his boot.

“Here, I can –” Buckles were nothing next to a lock, after all. Molly sat back, raising his eyebrows, and Nott had the fastenings undone in the space of a few heartbeats. Hesitantly, she rubbed her thumbs against the taut muscle of his thigh, easing the leather down and off. She liked his thighs: skinny, well-shaped. Warm. His socks, she noticed with amusement, were plain gray wool, thick and heavily-darned.

“What're you laughing at down there?” he asked.

“Your socks don't really match your outfit,” she said, dropping his boot to the floor.

“They're socks!” he protested, straightening indignantly. “They come in pretty or practical, you can't do both. And I walk for a living. If I'd been planning ahead I could have put on something nicer, but –”

“I expected better of you, Mollymauk,” she said seriously, winning a strangled noise of outrage. And she had, but she was utterly fond of his ugly, practical socks, wanted to tuck the fact of them up and collect it. Maybe it was the spell acting on her, but if it was, it didn't matter. What mattered was that she knew he wore them, and she hadn't known before, and it delighted her.

“Oh, shut up and lie back down,” he said, and bent to his other boot. Nott obeyed, propping herself up on her elbows; then, suddenly mischievous, she flicked her fingers and the buttons flew open under his hand.

“Oh, you think you're clever,” he said, scowling at her; she could see his lips twitching up, trying not to smile. Boots off, and socks tossed to the floor; she was oddly sorry to see them go, but then Molly was crawling over her, bracing his weight on one big hand. He hadn't taken his pants off, but before she could complain about that he had his tongue on her throat again, trailing down to her collarbone. She grabbed at his shoulders, let go to claw instead at the bed: the long arch of his back was too pretty a view to ruin with her hands. Metal glinted at the nape of his neck: copper, silver, brass and gold, over the bright gemstone colors of the tattoos.

“How do you feel about hickeys?” Molly asked. He barely lifted his head to do it, letting his lips brush the skin under her ear like a kiss.

“Hickeys? I don't know,” Nott said. “You're really overestimating how much time I've ever spent on foreplay. The people I had sex with before – we didn't really like each other.”

Something sharp and startled flickered over Molly's face at that, but all he said was,“well, let's try it.” And then he wrapped his mouth what felt like halfway around her neck. Nott squeaked. The sharp press of teeth against her skin was threatening, frightening, but – it was Molly. She could trust him; she knew him; he was a friend and wouldn't hurt her. The surety rolled over her in waves as he sucked at her skin.

“What do you think?” Molly asked, lifting his head. Nott blinked.

“I don't know?” she said. “I'm not sure. It was fine?” He shrugged, making the flowers on his back ripple.

“All right,” he said, and lowered his head to lick at the dip of her collarbone again.

“I like that better,” she offered.

“Good to know, good to know.” He dropped a kiss in the hollow at the base of her throat and trailed his mouth down, shifting himself down her body. His tongue traced a deliberate circle around her nipple; her back arched, and he spread his hand on her shoulder, holding her down. His tail twitched smugly.

“These are cute,” he said, squeezing her other breast; Nott pressed her thighs together. Then he lowered his head, stretching his jaw until – fuck, that was her entire tit in his mouth, hot all-enveloping pressure. She whimpered; he sucked at her, and her cunt clenched down hard on nothing.

“That's – wow,” she managed, cupping the back of his head. He made a pleased, muffled sound and sucked again, laving his tongue against her nipple. She didn't mind being small – what he was doing would work just the same if she were a halfling, or even a skinny gnome – and she liked this, liked the velvety wetness of his mouth against so much sensitive skin all at once. He pulled off, his tail still swishing, only to stretch his mouth over her other breast instead. Cold air on spit-slick skin made her shiver happily; he reached up, rolling her nipple in between his fingers even as he mouthed at her. “Ohfuck,” she whispered, trying not to grind against his stomach.

“There we go,” he murmured, lifting his head. “Now you're enjoying yourself.”

“What about you?” she had to ask. “Are you getting... whatever you wanted out of this?” Her hand was still in his hair; she scritched gently at his scalp, rubbing her thumb at the base of his horn.

“Mmm, yes,” he said, leaning up into her touch. He slid his hand up her thigh, hiking the sheet higher around her hips. “This is easily the most interesting way to get to know each other better.” He was sliding down her body now, nudging her knees further apart to settle himself between her legs. “Besides, squirmy is a good look on you.”