criticalkink | CR Campaign Three: Character Prompts

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CR Campaign Three: Character Prompts

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: Char1/Char2, flogging

Body of comment: Char1 has a thing for Char2's strong hands. Having seen them wield a weapon, they're wondering how well Char2 can swing their favorite bedroom toy.

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:

"[something punny about floggers], Char1/Char2, 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!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Ashton’s hands came up to frame Orym’s hips, fingers curling around and almost spanning his waist. Orym cupped the crystalline hair at the back of Ashton’s head, panting into ther mouth, his heart already pounding. He sank from standing to straddling Ashton’s lap, having to crane his neck up to keep kissing. His hips hitched once, and then again and again as he felt a bulge growing under his ass. Ashton’s breath shuddered. His hands gripped at Orym’s hips, pulling him closer, not controlling the roll, but intesifying it. Orym clutched at his shoulders, his neck, whatever skin was exposed. Ashton kept bordering on too much, his tongue filling Orym’s mouth when their control slipped, lips not quite fitting together right. The two of them kept coming apart, Orym biting at Ashton’s lips and Ashton returning the favor, teeth not quite hurting but the drag of them setting off fireworks along Orym’s nerves. His lips and chin and even part of his neck were spit-slick. It was sloppy, and Orym loved it.

Orym’s head swam. He’d been with an elf shortly before leaving the Air Ashari, a man considered small and slender by most standards, although he was solidly larger than Orym. Ashton’s solid bulk, the weight rubbing against Orym’s ass were both so much more. Maybe too much.

No, not too much. A challenge. Mastery over his own body was one of the few things Orym new he was very good at. He had honed it into a weapon, and when it needed to be something else … he could do this. He was desperate to do this.

He broke off, breath ragged, voice gone gravelly. “You’re going to fuck me,” he said. When he realized that sounded very presumptuous, he added, “If you want to.”

“Fuck yes I do, but …”

Ashton’s one good eye darted downward, taking in the look of Orym perched atop him, legs splayed on either side of their thick thighs. Orym frowned. “What did I say?” he growled.

“Not delicate, got it.” Ashton considered a moment and then said, “You know what? I’m going to stop asking questions. You’re in charge. Boss me around; tell me what you want. I’m into it.”

“Take off your clothes,” Orym whispered, shivering.

“Sir, yes, sir.”

Orym fumbled with the fastenings of his own armor and the hem of his shirt, dragging them off as quickly as possible so he didn’t have to take his eyes off Ashton. He stripped the jacket off, baring an expanse of green skin that looked like it had been shattered like a mirror on the left side, patched back together with a spiderweb of gold. Orym pulled his shirt off over his head as Aston wriggled out of his pants and boots. Orym had to stand to get his own pants off, kicking himself free, glad he didn’t tend to wear shoes.

“Your tattoos are fucking hot,” Ashton whispered, cocky grin faded as his eye tracked up and down Orym. “You’re fucking hot.”

“Lay back,” Orym said, half-question, half-command.

Ashton did as he was asked. He was toned, not as bulky as he looked with the leather on. His cock was thick and long and lay heavy against his stomach, smearing pearly precum across his skin.

“Oh,” Orym managed, “oh, you’re gorgeous.”

Before Ashton could do much beyond widen their eyes, Orym dropped down to wrap his hands around Ashton’ cock. It was thick enough he couldn’t quite get his fingers all the way around its girth. Orym’s head swam as he realized it was probably as thick as his own wrist.

This was doable. This was a challenge, and a challenge was met one step at a time. He leaned forward and wrapped his lips around Ashton’s cock. It was heavy and smooth against his tongue, almost the texture of a toy instead of skin, but hot and musky and tasting of salt. Just the head filled his mouth and stretched his jaw. Orym pressed forward, trying to relax as he took Aston in deeper, the head bumping against the back of his throat. He swallowed on instinct, and Ashton started swearing in a half-dozen languages, the words barely intelligible over the buzzing in Orym’s head.

He reached out, unerring, grabbing Ashton’s hand and dragging it to the back of his head. Ashton tightened their fingers, spanning most of the back of Orym’s head, digging into his hair and brushing against his ears.

“Tap my leg if you want me to let go,” Ashton said.

Orym hummed in response, and Ashton’s grip tightened, first a bit and then harder, riding the line between pain and the hot sizzle of pleasure against Orym’s scalp. Ashton’s guidance was also hesitant at first, and then more assertive, guiding Orym’s head up and down as Orym swallowed again and again, managing to take just a little more of Ashton’s cock each time. He only managed half of it when he had to tap out, Ashton’s hand leaving his head immediately. Orym held himself still, almost choking, shivering from head to toe, feeling too full and too empty all at once. He held himself still until white sparks lit the backs of his eyelids and he was desperate for a breath.

He drew off with a gasp, coughing as his throat protested the rough treatment even as his cock dripped between his thighs. He looked up to see Ashton staring at him, grin wiped away in their shock. Ashton reached out to run a gentle finger across Orym’s cheek and his lower lip, which Orym could only imagine was puffy and red from use.

Orym’s voice was wrecked when he asked, “Do you still want this?”

“Yeah, of course. If you do.”

“So, so much.”

Ashton’s chuckle was a weak imitation of its former self. “I can tell. Gods, Orym, look at you. You’re fucking ruined.”

“Not yet, I’m not.”

Orym climbed to his feet and was grateful for well-trained muscles that could keep pushing on even when they felt like jam on a hot day. He got to his pack successfully and pulled out the bottle of oil he used for his leather armor.

He got back to the bed without incident, and found that Ashton hadn’t moved, staying where Orym had left him, sprawled out and breathing deep. When he noticed Orym watching him he said, “Had to calm down a little, or this’ll be over too soon.”

Orym nodded, a little smile of pride curling at his lips, but it faded as he uncorked the bottle, poured it onto his hand and reached behind himself. It had been a while since he’d had the time and the space to explore this, even alone. The initial finger was painless, easy, and he added a second within only a moment. Then there was a bit of a stretch, not painful but noticeable. He met Ashton’s gaze.

“Do you …” Orym asked, “would you …?”

“I told you you could tell me what you want. What do you want, Orym?”

“I want your fingers, and then I want your cock. I want you to fuck me until I can’t remember my own name and Fearne laughs at the way I walk for days.”

“Gods,” Ashton breathed, “get up here.”

Orym pulled his fingers free of himself, and pressed the bottle into Ashton’s hand. Ashton coated his own fingers and helped pull Orym up to straddle Ashton’s stomach, just under the span of his ribs. Ashton held Orym’s hip with one and and reached between his legs with the other.

Their finger was as big as both of Orym’s, and it circled Orym’s hole gently. Orym whimpered, trying to press back into it. Ashton’s fingertip pushed in, thick and loger than Orym’s, pressing deep. Orym threw his head back, hands coming down on Ashton’s chest to hold on, digging his fingers into muscle, one fingernail catching on one pebbled green nipple.

Ashton groaned. Their finger jerked inside him, and Orym felt their tumb press against his perineum. He pushed back hard, suddenly needing more. “Another,” he gasped, breathing out and relaxing his muscles.

Even with that work, and with enough oil to make him drip, the second finger burned. Orym squeezed his eyes closed, the stretch intense. His breath was coming out in soft whines on each exhale. He felt Ashton hesitate, fingers still inside him but not moving, and he shook his head. It was a challenge. It was doable. He breathed out again, relaxed, and pushed back to slide the fingers in deep.

They pressed hard against his prostate, and Orym cried out, lifting himself up and driving back. Gods, it was so good. He always forgot how much he loved this until he had it again.

“Another.” His voice was so hoarse.

Ashton didn’t ask if he was certain. He just slicked up his ring finger and pressed it against Orym’s rim. For a moment, it felt like it simply wouldn’t fit, but Orym breathed, he centered himself, and it slipped inside.

It was so much, too much and not enough. Orym was shaking, the whines returning. His hole burned and clutched just around the three fingers. It took him three attempts before he could ease back, taking the fingers into himself. He was halfway between pain and ecstatic pleasure and he still hadn’t taken Ashton’s cock.

“Oh,” he breathed, “oh. I need you in me.”

“You can barely take three fingers.”

“Sort of the point.”

“Gods, you’re something else.”

“You have no idea.”

Orym pulled off Ashton fingers, his hands shaking as he poured oil over both of them so he could coat Ashton’s cock with more than enough oil. The sheets were going to be ruined, he thought, and hoped they had enough money to pay for it.

He crawled back, having to rise up off his knees to position himself over Ashton’s cock. Ashton held him up, steadying him by the hips, fingers eased around Orym’s ass to hold his cheeks open.

“Don’t stop me,” Orym said. “I’ll know if I can’t handle it. I’ll stop myself if I have to.”

“You’d better. I only want to hurt you if you like it.”

Orym smiled, or bared his teeth, or both. Whatever the expression was, Ashton returned it, fierce and joyful.

Orym pressed back. The cock-head was thicker than three fingers, catching at his rim and stopping. For a moment, it simply wouldn’t go past, but Orym had managed this before. He had this. He breathed, relaxed, and pressed, but it still wouldn’t fit. He tried again, and then frowning and drawing on all his training, tried one more time.

It pressed inside and Orym cried out, the pain an intense burn, like fire. His hole fluttered wildly, the rim stretched to its limit. He clenched his teeth, leaning into the burn. He pressed back, then up, then back again, each push taking one more inch. Each inch stretched a new part of him farther than it had ever been stretched. The burn spread, heating him up. Then he pushed one more time and that fat cock shoved hard against his prostate. The noise he made was a broken thing, almost a scream.

Just like that, the burn and the pain transformed. They were still there, but their edge twisted into the sharpest pleasure he’d ever felt. He stopped being careful and shoved himself back as hard as he could, and Ashton’s cock sunk in and in and in. They had barely been halfway inside Orym when they hit his prostate, Orym realized with stunned amazement.

Orym’s ass landed flush with the hot skin of Ashton’s hips. Ashton was so deep in him, deeper than Orym had thought possible. He felt like he was being split in two, speared open so wide and stuffed so full he could barely breathe.

He looked down, blinking hard as he realized there were tears on his cheeks. He was trembling. He might be imagining it, but it almost looked like there was a bulge in the flesh of his belly, rising over his hard and leaking cock.

“Oh gods,” he whined, “it’s so much.”

Ashton, as he’d promised, didn’t ask questions, but as he lay there Orym realized that Ashton was trembling too. His head was pressed back against the pillow hard enough that some of the points of his crystalline hair had torn into it, and he was wearing a ragged halo of straw.

Orym managed a chuckle, giddy at the intensity of the moment. “I think you’re going to have to fuck me now.”

Ashton’s grip tightened on Orym, then lifted him up and slid him back down. Orym threw his head back, tears running down his cheeks as the huge cock dragged past his prostate. “Yes,” he said, “gods, yes, fuck me.”

Ashton growled, their hands tightened, and then thier hips snapped up. The edge of pain was back, but it was so good. Orym reached his hands out to scratch at nipples he could barely reach, even as his ass was filled to the limit again and again.

“I’m not going to last.” Ashton’s voice was strained.

Orym shook his head. “You’re going to last until I tell you.”

“Oh fuck, okay. Okay, yes, sir.”

Ashton fucked into Orym again and again and again until Orym couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t filled. Ashton’s groans sounded constantly on the edge of shattering, but he was holding it together.

“You’re doing so well.” Orym opened his eyes to look at Ashton, blinking away the tears. “You’re so good for me.”

Ashton’s eyes went wide, and his groans went soft and desperate. It was both surprising and not. Of course Ashton secretly got off on praise.

Orym let his mouth start running, only half realizing what he was saying. “Look at you, taking it so well, behaving yourself so well. You’re so good, gorgeous.”

Ashton turned his head away, breath coming sharp and ragged. His hips jolted up hard and Orym’s voice broke over the shout it forced out of him.

He managed to keep going. “You’re so big, so much. I’m going to be ruined after this. I’m going to want you all the time.”

“Orym, fuck, I can’t—”

“You can. You’re almost there.” Orym started helping again, driving himself back as Ashton dragged him, the cock deep as it could go. “So close. God, I’m almost there.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Ashton whispered, starting to lose thier rhythm.

The tingling started in Orym’s ass, spreading to his cock and all the way up to his head. He was on the edge, all the sensations, even the pain collapsing toward a singularity of white-hot pleasure. “Now. Come inside me now.”

Ashton fucked up into him hard, almost brutal. Orym might well have screamed, but he couldn’t hear it as he lost himself in ecstasy. He was coming without even having touched himself, strings of it all over green skin. Ashton’s cry was hoarse and desperate, and for a moment Orym marveled as their cock grew just a little thicker, then he felt liquid heat fill him, the pressure driving him into aftershocks.

They both collapsed, Orym’s limbs giving out on him as he sprawled out over Ashton’s chest. He felt Ashton’s cock slip free and felt the dribble of come follow. He was such a mess. They both were.

Ashton managed to pull Orym up high enough to kiss. It was softer, less frantic, and Orym sank into it.

When they finally drew apart, Ashton’s head fell back and they looked up at the ceiling. “Wow. I didn’t expect that.”

“Which part?”

“Pretty much any of it. Not that I wasn’t into it, because holy shit, Orym, that might have been the best sex I’ve ever had.”

Orym laughed softly. He couldn’t quite say the same. Physically, he was certain it had been, but there were complications beyond the physical. He missed his husband even as he snuggled closer to Ashton and relished the feel of their broad hand running across his back. That sort of ache and longing would never go away, he knew. But it had softened. He’d been guilty when he’d slept with the elf. There was no guilt in this bed.

He listened to Ashton’s heartbeat. However different he was with his skin and hair and repaired cracks, his heartbeat sounded the same as anyone else’s.

“What do you like to read?” Orym asked.

“What?” Ashton sounded incredulous.

“You said you liked to read. What do you like to read?”

“Mysteries, adventure, just about anything fictional. I’m not picky.”

“We should go shopping, find a bookshop.”

“Now?”

Orym’s laughter was weak. His eyes were getting heavy. “Maybe not now. We should probably clean up.”

“Yeah.”

“Definitely doing that right away.”

“Definitely.”

Orym didn’t move. After a moment, Ashton dragged the blanket over Orym’s back, and Orym tucked his head into the crook of Ashton’s neck. “I like this,” he whispered, which was somehow the hardest confession of the night.

“Me too,” Ashton said, equally hushed.

Orym didn’t know what that meant. They barely knew one another. He didn’t know who Ashton had been before they had met, any more than Ashton knew who he had been. Had Ashton loved and lost? Were there faces and voices that came at him in the middle of the night?

He pressed close, inhaling the interesting, earthy smell of Ashton’s sweat. Even the realization that Ashton could sweat filled him with a quiet wonder.

“Stay here tonight,” he whispered.

“Can’t exactly move.”

“Do you want to?”

“Nah. I’m sort of stuck to the pillow anyway.”

Orym lifted his head, smiling, feeling soft around the edges. He drew a breath to speak—

And then the door burst open and Dorian and Imogen tumbled in, Dorian’s blade drawn and Imogen’s eyes whited out with power. Fresh Cut Grass wheeled in after them, and Fearned strolled in last, with Laudna poking her head around the corner. Bertrand was the only one Orym didn’t see.

They all stared at one another for a long moment before Imogen blinked and her eyes were violet again. Her blush was impressive as she turned and walked out without a word, Laudna cackling and following.

“Well, this does not seem to be the deadly and injurious situation I was warned about,” Fresh Cut Grass said. “I’ll let you two be. Have fun! Don’t die! Enjoy whatever sex you want to have within physical reason! Find me if you need healing!” They turned around and wheeled back out, trailing a cheerful litany of advice.

Dorian was still rooted to the spot. “We thought you were dying,” he said.

“We did not think you were dying,” Fearne said. “I just wanted to see this, though I’m a little disappointed we only arrived after.”

“You’re a fucking perv, Fearne,” Ashton said.

“Yes, I am,” she said with her usual opaque cheer. “And now that I’ve seen it, I’m going to go get drunk.”

She trotted out, leaving Dorian still staring at them.

“I … I didn’t … Orym?” he asked.

“Please close the door on your way out,” Orym said, not unkindly. Fearne might be a menace, but Dorian’s heart was in the right place.

“Right, I will do that. I will just … you two have … you know what? I’ll go pay for that pillow.”

He turned and hurried out, even as Ashton shouted after him, “And the sheets!”

Orym started to laugh, pressing his face deep into the skin of Ashton’s neck. “I’m never going to hear the end of that.”

“Neither are they,” Ashton said, grinning.

“Oh, gods, we’re going to be rude neighbors.”

“The fucking rudest.”

Orym settled in and closed his eyes. They had just agreed, apparently, that this would happen again. That this wasn’t some one-off experience. He wasn’t certain he could call this a relationship, but it might be the foundation of one. There was a little ache to that thought, but it was good. It was a step forward.

this is so good!

um hello???????? this is???????? the hottest thing I've read???????? in a very long time????????

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

CR Campaign Three: Character Prompts

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