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criticalkinkThe 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...
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 tocriticalkink in a PM or drop a comment on this post.
The most important rule of all? HAVE FUN.
Now go forth and prompt!
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!
FILL: "HONEYED" FJORD/ORCS - RATED E- DUBCON - 1/?
Date: 2019-11-05 05:12 am (UTC)When Fjord thought back to those days, he remembered her face more clearly than anything else. Her brow furrowed in a way the thick, callused skin wasn’t used to, and her plush lips pressed together so thinly they disappeared. When a bone was broken, or the orphanage was flat broke, or there was only half as much food as there should have been in the kitchens, Selmina knew what to do. Selmina *always* knew what to do. Fjord couldn’t recall a damn moment from his first days of life to his last days in his hometown when Selmina didn’t know exactly what was going to happen, what to do about it, and who to yell at to make it happen.
Selmina didn’t know what to do about him.
It wasn’t the first time he’d been treated like an alien being, far from it. But it was the first time he’d realized there were parts of him that were uniquely alien, to be kept even more private than his own thoughts, feelings, and emotions already were. He saw that uncertainty again a couple of years later when Vandran finally realized why Fjord was burning hotter than the Nine Hells and sweating like a cultist in the Dawnfather’s temple. He nearly lost his mind when Vandran sighed, grabbed a bag of copper, and walked out. When he saw that face again, he wanted to grab his hitching knife and cut out every ugly, uncomfortable, sinful bit of himself to keep Vadran in his life. A few hours later, Vadran came back and handed him a bottle of little yellow pills that made him comfortably numb to his aches and urges, and whispered where he could get more ‘Next time this crops up, stripling.’
More than once, as they cobbled their relationship back together after that day and Fjord spent more time under Vandran’s tutelage, he wished he’d been born ‘free of all desires’ as Vadran was.
‘So you’ve never...?’
‘Never. Not once. I just wasn’t built for it. I used to think it was all just a big joke people told amongst themselves. Then I realized people were serious when they said they could tell they wanted to be with a stranger from just one look.’
’I never would’ve guessed you were. You’re not...’
‘Not bookish? Not trapped in a store or a convent? Not boring like all the cheap rags say I should be?’
‘I wasn’t about to- Uhm- I mean- Uh-’
‘Settle down, Fjord, I’m just pulling your leg. I used to think it was a... a superpower. Everyone else was making deals with their bits while I was standing there with a head as clear as the Marquet skies.’
But he wasn’t. Fjord was born with ‘all the right gears,’ and as Vandran once said, and you don’t get to pick your gears, you get to figure out how they turn.
Right now, Fjord’s gears were turning so damn fast he could smell the smoke wafting off his cunt. He usually had a decent supply of suppressives on hand, but no apothecary on this side of Xhorhas made them, and he couldn’t ask for that favor discreetly enough for his liking. Caduceus had recently been making a tea that turned him into a brainless, noodle-limbed puddle on the nearest horizontal surface, but even that could only hold for so long.
Fjord couldn’t stand the thought of locking himself in his room for until his heat was over (mouth pressed to the floor, sucking up dirt and dry, cold air in the pitch black with nothing but your fingers and everyone’s footsteps for company) and elected to lock himself out of it instead.
As well as lock himself out of the house.
And the Mighty Nein’s lives.
For now.
When all this was over, he told himself, he’d come back and everything would go back to normal.
It was an easy lie to tell. It rolled off his tongue like marbles down a pane of glass as he hitched the horse with an array of worried spectators ringing him. He pretended that the Wildmother had told him there was a font of spiritual growth waiting for him east of Roshona, near the Vermaloc Wildwood. The Nein refused to buy it easily, of course, but a few more slick words about the Wildmother’s words and blessings had all but one of them off his back.
Cadesusus watched him hitch the horse with a curious, critical eye that flickered away every time Fjord tried to figure out exactly where he was looking.
“How much did she tell you about the font?”
“Enough,” Fjord said stiffy.
“How will you know you’ve found what you’re looking for?” Caduceus produced a sugar cube for the horse - Turdcutter, as Nott had dubbed her - to munch on.
“I’ll know when I find it.” He finished hitching Turdcutter and climbed on her back, looking down at Cadesusus now. “She wouldn’t be a god if she wasn’t cryptic.”
“I suppose.” He looked from the horse to Fjord. “Are you sure about this? Do you feel this is something you can do alone?”
“I have to-it's... She wouldn’t have told me to do it alone if I wasn’t meant to. After all this time doing things with six other people attached, if she’s telling me to go solo, I have to.”
Caduceus gave Fjord a long, steady look that nearly burned a hole through Fjord’s skin before finally turning his gaze back to the house. “If she insists.” He put a small pouch in one of Fjord’s saddlebags and walked away. Fjord watched him disappear into the buttery light of the doorway and snapped the reins on Turdcutter.
He made steady progress getting out of the city - people tended to part like water around you when you were riding a horse in a horseless place - until the crowds thinned dramatically once he’d left the safe arms of the city limits. Few other folks were dumb, desperate, or cocksure enough to leave the city without plenty of heavy weaponry and a large group to weld it all. Fjord, in sharp contrast, had a sword, a horse, and desperate need to be alone.
Hopefully, the sight of a lone horseman would be intimidating enough to make any would-be bandits think twice. Hopefully, he’d be able to kill one and scare the rest of the pithy little group off. Hopefully... well, hopefully, this would all be over soon, and all he’d have to suffer through would be a couple of days in a shitty tavern in a shitty, backwater town.
He was beginning to think he’d read the map wrong- He’d been traveling for *hours* now and he still couldn’t see hide nor hair of the trading post that was supposed to be on this road. Turdcutter’s pace had slowed to a crawl, and Fjord could feel the urge to stop sagging over her bones. He slid off her back to offer her some small measure of reprieve, holding onto her reins and guiding her through the perpetual night.
“It’s alright, ‘Cutter... It’s gotta be close.” He pat her snout reassuringly and kept moving on foot.
“It has to be close... We should’ve hit *something* by now just from sheer distance.” The thought of traveling all the way to the other side of the continent and hitting a town by accident shot through Fjord’s mind as sympathy pain shot through his legs.
The thought of settling down and making camp for the night was becoming more and more appealing when he spotted the living, dancing light of something else’s campfire up ahead.
“Oh, thank god-” He wanted to throw himself at the light, to bathe in its glow and lounge by the fireside, but a lifetime of hard-fought rational told him the people gathered around that fire could be far worse than anything lurking in the dark.
He slowed to a crawl, checking the shadows for waiting figures. Seeing none, he relaxed incrementally and let go of Turdcutter’s reigns. “Wait here.”
It was a stupid thing to say, but if it made her stay put, so be it. Fjord snuck closer to the light, trying to picture Nott in his mind’s eye and copy her every move as he picked through the brush. As he came closer, he could hear more of those deep, drawling voices.
‘Orcs,’ he thought, and some shameful part of him clenched in anticipation. Fjord paused, trying to draw his mind away from the quiet fire in his bones and towards the danger that could be circled around the one blazing ahead of him. He inched closer, holding his breath and letting every step stretch on and on as he wove through the trees and brush. The drawls eventually separated into distinct voices as Fjord came to the edge of the clearing, spotting four orcs gathered around a campfire. The flames licked the bottom of an iron pot, wafting some mouthwatering scent into the air that made Fjord weak in the knees.
Fjord circled the clearing to get a better look at the quarter, his stride smooth and unbroken until he stepped into a rabbit hole and crashed to the ground with a strangled grunt.
The orcs’ conversation cut off as each head whipped towards the sound. One of them, the eldest looking one, stood up. “Who’s there?!”
Fjord held his breath, eyes wide as the orc took another step towards the edge of the clearing. He paused, and he seemed different when he spoke again. “I ain’t gonna hurt you, so long as you ain’t gonna hurt us. Now, why don’t you come on out so we can see each other?”
The man’s voice washed over Fjord like warm honey, relaxing all his muscles and subtly clouding his thoughts as he rose to his feet, the warmth of the fire caressing his face as he stepped through the brush, dirt still clinging to his boot.
“See, now? We can be friendly...” The orc smiled at him, gesturing for him to step even closer. Fjord obeyed, the man’s honeyed tone working through every crack in his brain. “Now who might you be, bite-size?” The three behind the man leaned closer together, murmuring something Fjord couldn’t hear.
“Fjord.” The word dropped from his mouth like a stone, but it didn’t feel like enough. “Sir.” He bowed his head, the warmth of the fire running its fingers through his hair.
“Fjord?” The man, a silver fox of an orc, leaned closer. “Mighty nice name you’ve got there. I’m Sogdom myself, and these folks are Buramog-” A cleaner cut, middle-aged orc waved from his place by the fire.
“Voltam-” The orc in question, a real brute, snapped up his head up from his bowl of stew.
“And Mokaur-” The youngest looking member, a half-orc barely stepping into adulthood, mumbled something acidic and kept his eyes on Fjord.
“Nice group you’ve got here.” His heart was hammering in his chest, and his blood was roaring in his ears, but it all felt so distant it might as well have been happening to someone else.
“He smells like that time of year!” Mokaur shouted at last. A dull blade of panic shot through Fjord’s chest, kicking his heart rate up even higher, but he couldn’t bring himself to react.
“He *does*, doesn’t he, Mok’?” Sogdom lazily turned to the group, then back to Fjord. He had to hunch down dramatically to make eye contact with the half-orc. Hell, Fjord figured if he were on horseback, the man would still have to slouch. “Got anything special going on, Fjord?”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Fjord said hastily. It took all his effort and willpower just for that simple lie. His words felt like smoke that wanted to waft out his mouth the moment they were born. Fjord *never* felt like this. He’d grown up lying and charming, he knew how to keep a secret, but there was something about this man that crumbled every mental wall he’d ever built.
“Do you, now?” Sogdom spoke in the gently chiding tone of a man trying to get a truth he already knew. “Let me be a bit more explicit, then.” He leaned in until his hot, perfumed breath swirled on Fjord’s skin and he could see his reflection in the gold caps on Sogdom’s tusks. “Are you-” Fjord watched a drop of sweat slide down his reflection’s forehead, “-Or are you not, currently experiencing a little something we orcs call ‘a heat’?”
Cold terror ran up and down Fjord’s spine, pulling all the heat out of his limbs and making them vibrate with the overwhelming urge to *run*. His heart could tell he was cornered- he could feel it hammering harder than ever before and he could *feel* the blood shooting through his body, begging him to turn and flee before he ended up dead and in pieces. The fog over his mind was evaporating slowly but surely and he was searching for his chance to turn and run.
“Might wanna freshen up your ‘trick,’ boss,” Buramog said, “He’s got that look they always get before-” He snapped his fingers.
“Fjord...” Sogdom’s brow furrowed, disappointment written in the fold of his aged skin, “You don’t plan on running off on us, do you now?” He ran a massive hand through Fjord’s hair and electricity fizzled on his scalp at the touch.
“I...”
“Ten seconds,” Buramog said in the distance.
Sogdom kept his hand in Fjord’s hair, gently working his blunt fingernails across his scalp.
Ten seconds. Ten seconds and the film over his mind would be wiped off, and he’d feel the full brunt of terror and adrenaline thrumming through his veins. In ten seconds - less if he tried with all his might - he could run for Turdcutter, force her into a gallop, and hopefully get far enough away that these orcs decided the effort of the chase wasn’t worth the reward.
Ten seconds passed. The veil lifted, and terror hit Fjord so hard he gasped and jerked in place.
Twenty seconds passed.
A minute passed.
Fjord was still standing in front of Sogdom, terrified and trembling, and Sogdom was still running his hands through Fjord’s hair, whispering to him like a spooked horse. “You’ve got the heartbeat of a jackrabbit, stripling,” Each stroke of the man’s fingertips made Fjord want to go limp as a stoned cat, and he was sure the other could tell. And that nickname...
“Don’t worry, we won’t bend you too far,” Sogdom fiddled with an amber ring on his finger, and Fjord felt that honeyed wave wash over him again, lowering his inhibitions until they left craters in the floor. “We won’t break you. You’re too damn pretty for that.” Sogdom ran his hands through Fjord’s hair again with much more pressure, and Fjord let out a breathy whine as he leaned into the touch, begging for more like a spoiled house cat.
Sogdom chuckled at the pretty little half-orc’s reaction and indulged him, running his hands through the other’s hair and scratching at the sensitive bit of skin behind the ear. “C’mon, pretty...” He pulled his hand away, and Fjord nearly tripped over himself trying to follow it. Sogdom flashed him another honeyed smile and make a beckoning gesture, the firelight turning his green fingers a warm, smokey orange as he began to step back towards his place by the fire. Fjord followed in a haze, dimly aware of the arcane veil on his mind mixing with the all-natural haze of lust, warmth, and hunger.
Re: FILL: "HONEYED" FJORD/ORCS - RATED E- DUBCON - 1/?
Date: 2019-11-07 08:14 pm (UTC)Re: FILL: "HONEYED" FJORD/ORCS - RATED E- DUBCON - 1/?
Date: 2019-11-07 08:46 pm (UTC)ASDFGHJKLÖÄÖGÖÄÖHLÖÄÖLKJHGFDSAAAAHMAGAWD this is soooooo good so far!!! I can't wait to see what more magic you might create! <3
'm just blown away! Just... wow.
Re: FILL: "HONEYED" FJORD/ORCS - RATED E- DUBCON - 2/?
Date: 2019-11-10 07:05 am (UTC)Sogdom wasted no time, yanking Fjord down into his lap as he sat back down. “Pretty little thing, ain’t he?” Sogdom muttered as he worked a knee between Fjord’s thighs, spreading the half-orc’s legs as his belt and skirt came free and hit the dirt. “Prettiest little emerald in all the world, and he’s *all* for me.” Sogdom chuckled into the crook of Fjord’s neck, giving his compatriots a smug grin as he popped buttons and laces in his quest to undress the smaller man.
“Sogdo-” Fjord gasped as the other unceremoniously grabbed his hip and shoved a finger up him. Sogdom slowly worked his callused, gnarled finger deeper into Fjord, turning his knees to jelly and forcing him to lock his hands around Sogdom’s mountain range of a neck as the orc wrung gasps and moans out of him.
The other three looked with searing, envious expressions, their attention more firmly placed on Sogdom’s arrogance smirk than Fjord’s helpless bliss. Even though the waves of pleasure, Fjord could feel the tension in the air. He took a breath, trying to cobble together enough brain cells to ask what was wrong. “Sogd-?” Fjord turned his head, catching sight of Mokaur’s hateful glare.
Sogdom recaptured his attention with a brush of his massive teeth against Fjord’s jugular, sparking a line of electricity across his skin. “Don’t you look away from me, stripling. Just keep your eyes on me while I work that pretty little slit of yours.” He moved his hand from Fjord’s hip to his jaw, forcing the tiny half-orc to look back to him as the other half-orc bristled with rage. “Eyes on me...”
Fjord tried to cobble together a reply, the polite and composed words in his brain turning to helpless babble as Sogdom’s thick digit stretched his walls and the massive bumps of his knuckles made him clench down, desperate for more stimulation.
Sogdom wrapped his hand back around Fjord’s hip to keep him in place, his fingers digging in from the top of Fjord’s thigh to the small of his back; the firelight carving deep wells of shadow where Sogdom buried his grip into the plush of his ass. His thumb wrapped around Fjord’s side to press into the soft pouch of flesh just above the half-orc’s cunt, and ideas came unbidden to Sogdom’s mind.
“Wonder if I could feel my cock inside you if I kept it there, stripling,” He muttered, thrusting in deeper and twisting. Fjord jerked forward in response, gasping as he clenched tighter around Sogdom’s finger and babbled under his breath.
“Oh? Now, what was that?” Sogdom curled his finger inside Fjord and slowly dragged it out, smearing the man’s own juices over his swollen clit. Fjord bucked his hips, desperate for more contact as Sogdom kept ghosting his slick, rapidly cooling fingertips over his trembling thighs. “Gotta speak up now, son.”
“Ohgodjustfuckmealready,” Fjord slurred out, thirst and lust conspiring to make his tongue thick and heavy in his mouth. He tried to rut against Sogdom’s thigh, letting out a needling, pathetic whine as the other tightened his grip and denied Fjord the stimulation he craved.
“Best mind your manners if you want something from me, son.” He lazily worked his finger back between Fjord’s legs with a teasing touch that made the other sigh and groan in frustration. Sogdom didn’t bother taking his eyes off the sight of Fjord’s glistening cunt or the dark smears on his pant leg. “
“Maybe if you ask politely enough, I’ll give you what you want down. To. The. Letter.” He pressed into Fjord incrementally with each word for emphasis, sending shudders up the half-orc’s spine as he tried to clench down on the man’s thick digit. Every nerve in Fjord’s body felt like it was reaching ten inches out from his skin, desperate to gobble up every last bit of touch until he could finally cum so hard he caught a glimpse of the outline of the universe.
“Please-” Fjord tried to keep his voice steady, accents slipping on and off his voice like water over a fall. “Pl-please-” He gasped as Sogdom randomly thrust his finger back inside Fjord, his knuckles brushing against Fjord’s clit as he lazily pumped in and out. “Sogdom- Please. Please fuck me, god, please, please, please, I swear I’ll die if I don’t cum, please-” The last rational cell in his brain said he could’ve done better, but the rest of him didn’t care as Sogdom *finally* slipped a second finger in him, thrusting faster and faster while muttering the sweetest nothings in his ear.
Every nerve in his body finally lit up as the world narrowed down to the feeling of callused knuckles working in and out of him, the heat of Sogdom’s honeyed words swirling across his skin, and the brain shattering, addictive pain of finally being penetrated by another man for the first time in months. Fjord gulped down air like he was a drowned man reborn and screamed for Sogdom, senselessly begging for more as he felt the other force his head back, chuckling and whispering for him to ‘shout a little louder for me, stripling, let this whole ship know you belong to me.’
Stripling. Vadran was the first ever to call him ‘stripling.’ It was the first time someone had treated him as a vulnerable and young thing instead of a complete monster, and he practically fell in love with the nickname. During rare hours of solitude on the ship, Fjord would dream of that nickname being used in entirely different scenarios and would loathe himself as soon as the cum cooled between his thighs.
Fjord threw his head back, pleasure rocketing through every vein in his body as he clenched down tighter on Sogdom and begged for release through grit teeth. He didn’t even know what he was screaming anymore as shameful, long-hidden orcish instincts demanded he throw his voice to the wind and let every man in a mile-wide radius know he was ready to be used.
His first orgasm hit him like a sledgehammer, tightening every muscle in his body until his back threatened to snap in half, and his throat burned red and raw from screaming. Fjord clenched as hard as he could on Sogdom’s fingers as he dug his own into the other’s weatherbeaten hide, clinging on to him for dear life as sheer pleasure made him feel like he was being thrown into raging storm at sea.
Soon enough, the storm of orgasmic pleasure in his body abated, and Fjord slowly came back to reality, the veil of lust temporarily lifted. Fjord shuddered as Sogdom ripped his fingers out of him at last, intensifying the aftershocks running through his battered body. He relaxed his grip on Sogdom slowly, gasping every time his cunt brushed against the other’s pant leg, or Sogdom moved his hand in just the right way to stimulate him again.
“Now was that name you were howling... Stripling?” Sogdom rattled off casually, one hand rubbing Fjord’s back while the other played at the ties holding his armor in place. Fjord instantly went rigid in his grasp, the temporary clarity of orgasm, giving him enough of a mind to panic. A cold, ugly shame flared in his chest, and he withered in Sogdom’s grasp as familiar humiliation washed over him.
“Nothing. It was nothing.” His throat was still burning from screaming and Fjord wished he could reach down and tear the feeling out. None of this felt right anymore- even the thick of his heat, even without the sweet yellow pills or that honeyed tea, that one shame instantly quenched any fire in his body- it’d been used to do just that dozens of times before.
Fjord tried to lean back, suddenly hyper-aware of his surroundings. He could feel every breeze and hear every leaf playfully whisper against its neighbor in the trees. All the lust in his gut drained away as even the hormonal buzz of his heat temporarily died out. “I-I...” Heat rose to his face, regret and bile rising in his throat shortly behind. “This was a mista-”
“Fjord...” Sogdom expression softened as he cradled Fjord’s chin, forcing him to look him in the eye. “You don’t plan on keeping secrets from me, do you?”
The longer he was forced to look at those warm, chocolatey pools of color in Sogdom’s eyes; the further Fjord felt his walls crumble. After a moment, he relaxed back into the other’s grip and his hands ended up back on his skin. “He was...” Fjord swallowed. “He was important to me. I wanted to love him.”
“Now, what was this love, child?” Sogdom’s voice felt so warm, so damn warm Fjord forgot where they were and how late in the season it was. He felt like he could melt in the other’s grip if he basked in it long enough. Even with all that heat, it still couldn’t melt the icy blade of shame buried deep in his chest. Fjord reached up, fiddling with the amber ring on Sogdom’s hand until he felt that familiar warmth wash over him.
“I wanted him.” Fjord spat, a long-buried weight finally evaporating off his shoulders as he confessed. “He was the first person ever to treat me like I was worth anything. I was... I was almost addicted to him, sometimes. Every damn word he said felt like he was handing me a gift, and I would have done *anything* to have him...”
“But-?” Sogdom wrapped an arm around Fjord’s side, massaging the tension out of his back as he wound himself up tighter and tighter.
“But he would have never had me...” Fjord felt that tightness crawl up his throat and swell behind his eyes. Sogdom pressed on his back harder, rubbing in wider circles as he worked Fjord’s armor straps with the other. “He gave me supressives, to keep me on my feet at sea...” Fjord hiccuped.
“Ain’t right to hide somethin’ away like this,” Sogdom muttered as Fjord’s breastplate hit the dirt and the night breeze worked its way under his shirt. “Keepin’ it hidden away only makes it burn hotter.”
“Sometimes I’d ruck my pants to my knees and just think about him tying me up, hiding me away... Fixin’ me all heat long...” Fjord’s voice took on a dreamy air as he stared straight ahead, his eyes glazing over as he mentally stepped back to his teenhood. “I was already locked up so tight when all those pretty pills couldn’t hold me... I wanted him there... I wanted...”
“Ain’t you lucky, stripling?” Sogdom muttered as he worked Fjord’s shirt off, pausing to lean back and admire the fully nude half-orc in his lap, the familiar glaze of someone who’d been charmed one too many times washing over his pretty-boy eyes. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen it, and it was far from the last, but it was the first time they’d inflicted it on themselves. It made him want to laugh his ass off. “You got me, and I ain’t a stranger to want.”
Re: FILL: "HONEYED" FJORD/ORCS - RATED E- DUBCON - 2/?
Date: 2019-12-03 02:43 am (UTC)AAAAHHHHH this is so good!!! Thank you for blessing me like this TAT <3
Re: FILL: "HONEYED" FJORD/ORCS - RATED E- DUBCON - 2/?
Date: 2019-12-04 03:57 am (UTC)I especially like the effect of the charm and I keep trying to work out what the game mechanics of it would actually be and then remembering that it doesn't matter and it's just really wonderful how his old nickname comes back and he ends up charming himself and how his terror is still there underneath it all.
Really like Fjord pining after asexual Vandren and feeling even more at odds with himself since his hero mentor doesn't have any point of reference for what he's going through.
Very excited about this.
Re: FILL: "HONEYED" FJORD/ORCS - RATED E- DUBCON - 2/?
Date: 2020-04-29 04:21 am (UTC)Re: FILL: "HONEYED" FJORD/ORCS - RATED E- DUBCON - 2/?
Date: 2020-04-29 04:45 am (UTC)Re: FILL: "HONEYED" FJORD/ORCS - RATED E- DUBCON - 2/?
Date: 2020-04-29 07:02 am (UTC)