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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: Pike/Sarenrae, holy visitation
Body of comment: Pike gets a different kind of spiritual visitation one night.
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:
"Holy Smitten, Pike/Sarenrae, NC-17, 1/5"
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: Pike/Sarenrae, holy visitation
Body of comment: Pike gets a different kind of spiritual visitation one night.
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:
"Holy Smitten, Pike/Sarenrae, NC-17, 1/5"
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!
(almost) any/any, collars/choking/breathplay etc
Date: 2017-06-23 04:07 am (UTC)prompt in the title, basically
[ep 102 spoilers] delilah/female character, painplay
Date: 2017-06-24 10:08 pm (UTC)strong preference for vex or raishan but all delilah-centric femslash is good
definite bonus for explicitly subby delilah, maybe with some dubcon elements, but pls no straight-up noncon
Re: Belonging, Polymachina + Voyeur Cass, NC-17
Date: 2017-06-25 04:40 pm (UTC)Keyleth/Allura; first time/virginity kink
Date: 2017-06-26 08:17 am (UTC)Any magic user/any, scrying voyeurism
Date: 2017-06-26 01:24 pm (UTC)preferably femslash or involving vax, no preference on level of consent, just. magic being used in improbable ways to facilitate sex is one of my favourite things.
Gen or any M/M, Bodyswap
Date: 2017-06-29 05:48 am (UTC)Everyone, coming out.
Date: 2017-06-30 01:40 am (UTC)Re: Anyone/The Kraken, TENTACLES
Date: 2017-06-30 04:03 am (UTC)Vilya doesn't hear the voice until she's gone limp in the kraken's grip, the unconscious or dead bodies of her companions carried far past her eyesight by the current. She's failed, she knows -- even if she makes it back to the portal a leader who comes back alone is no leader at all.
And yet when the voice crawls into her mind, into all the hollow spaces she has felt grow with every death in this icy blue tomb, it says: You're different than the others. Stronger. Mine.
Vilya feels the water rush over her wounds as the kraken lifts her to their good eye and she flinches, struggling anew against the tentacle wrapped around her waist.
Yes, the voice continues. Yes, you'll do nicely.
Nicely for what? she tries to demand, but the water pours into her mouth and robs her of her words despite the stone in the hollow of her throat.
Nicely for me, the voice says, and it's the kraken -- it must be -- but there's a weight behind it, something so dark and timeless that she's sinking, sinking, sinking so far she doesn't realise the water has stolen her robe as well until she feels the rough-slick slide of the kraken's flesh against her own. It leaves freezing trails where it passes, gooseflesh rising in its wake, and she trembles as the tentacle tweaks at her nipples, nudges between her legs.
And oh, Vilya thinks, as more tentacles than she had counted wind around her wrists, her ankles, suspend her in the now-still water. Yours. Of course.
She has been numb for so long she is not even surprised when this time her scream is drowned in the kraken's laughter.
It doesn't hurt, at first, this teasing exploration of her body, and it is almost worse this way. Not gentle but careful, and for all Vilya bites her lip and pulls against her living bonds she feels her body react, feels herself growing slick and wet between her legs with more than this plane's endless ocean.
You failed, daughter of the storm, the kraken whispers. You failed, and now you have a chance at your redemption. To become something more.
Vilya whimpers, throws her head back and meets something soft: another tentacle, cradling her head as the tip circles forward to prod into her mouth.
No need to answer, the kraken says, as she bites down, the tentacle's flesh surprisingly unyielding as it teases along her tongue, across the backs of her teeth. I know already what you would say.
Vilya knows too: knows she is weak, failed and bent, ripped apart by the tempest she would never speak for again. Knows that she would say yes, say, let me die, and let whatever you offer take my place. Let me be different, anew.
Vilya knows power, knows deals with lands and with the things that inhabit them. Vilya knows that she is a coward, and Vilya knows that she wants.
(It does not, really, feel as much of a contradiction as it should be.)
Good, the voice in her mind murmurs, dark and pleased, and Vilya chokes on a half-formed plea as the tentacle between her legs slips inside her.
She's not ready for something so big, not ready at all, and she would scream again if not for the tentacle in her mouth pushing further in, both of them working in an alien rhythm that demands her submission as surely as it promises her pleasure.
This is the start, the voice whispers, and Vilya moans, chants yes, yes in the dark corners of her mind where she knows she will be heard because there is no new life for her without the death of her companions, no pleasure at the end of this pain as the kraken's tentacle fucks into her harder, deeper.
Vilya had dreamed of this, once, had dreamed she had swallowed the sea whole and it had filled her up and up and up until there was no breath, no blood, not even skin because she had burst such fragile bounds. Never once had she dreamed the sea would come to her like this, would spread her out in a nowhere place and hold her still, so still against the pulsing pounding ropes of light that fill her.
Infinite, and there is another promise now, another layer to the voice. See how much you can hold.
She's full, so full now, and with her eyes shut she can almost pretend — can almost —
— there is nothing to pretend, as lightning bursts inside her, scorches the inside of her mouth and tips her so close to coming she can almost imagine it, spread and filled like an offering to something she can't name.
Her cunt aches almost past the point of pain, and everything about her is stretched unbearably far apart. Still she writhes against the kraken's grip, but forward now, always forward, chasing the ecstasy that pierces her mouth, her cunt, every centimetre of her bare skin where she's flayed raw to the water that seems to urge the tentacles deeper into her every time she thinks she can't possibly take any more.
Vilya would beg, if she were with a mortal lover. But the sea's love knows no pleas, and the kraken presses perfect circles of suction-bruises into her skin and does not move faster no matter how much she tries to force herself forward. Even druids cannot move the elements when they all stand opposed, she might think if she still had the capacity to think split across the thread of pleasure-pain.
But she doesn't think, just breathes shallow and desperate through her nose and relishes the rough drag of the kraken's flesh across the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, the sharp flicks of the tentacle's tip against her clit.
There now, the voice returns, piercing through the hazy cloud of arousal that's enveloped her. There now, show me what you are.
There are monsters under Vilya's skin that have only ever waited for their time to be set free, and as lightning explodes around her once more she feels them all clawing at her bones at once as she comes harder than she ever thought she could, clenching, biting down on the kraken's embrace as she feels something burst from her skin.
When her eyes flicker back into focus she finds herself limp, no longer held aloft. There are colours where before there was only blue, and as she shivers she feels her entire body move, bigger than anything she's transformed into before.
There is a woman before her and she does not quite have Vilya's face but she is not quite anything else, either.
I'm so proud, the voice still echoes in Vilya's head, and she no longer has her old body to ache with emptiness, but her mind throbs now, wanting the words, wanting everything this women is. She reaches out with one long tentacle, lifts the woman to her again.
Vesh does give rewards, you see.
fill: no grave but the sea | vilya/the kraken, e | 1/1
Date: 2017-06-30 04:04 am (UTC)how ferocious you can be (part 1/3)
Date: 2017-06-30 05:41 pm (UTC)However, a few weeks after they’d returned, it became apparent that unscathed didn’t mean unchanged.
It had taken adjusting, guesswork from Keyleth, research and debate about another trip to the Feywild (Percy and Keyleth were for it, everyone else was against, so they didn’t), and a lot of trial and error. Percy wound up taking something of a break between searches for vestiges, to cope and try and figure everything out.
Now, though. Now. Now he was used to it, and although they didn’t know everything about his new condition, they knew enough to start making things fun.
“I still don’t know about this,” he said, shifting on his feet. They were in Vex’s room in Whitestone, resting between trips. Percy had refused to share a room at first, worried of what he might do to Vex, but they’d tested it and found he didn’t wake up in the middle of the night with deadly fangs and claws like steel, and that was enough to reassure him for the time being.
Vex, sitting delicately on the bed, pulled the tie from her braid and carefully undid the pleats. “It will be fine, darling,” she assured him. “If anything happens, I can just yell and someone will come running down the hall in a few seconds.”
“If they’re close enough to hear shouting, they’re close enough to hear growling.”
“Didn’t Cassandra tell everyone on staff about your condition?”
Percy hesitated. “Yes. But I think that’s even more reason for them to want to play on the safe side.”
Her braid undone, hair cascading down her back, Vex stood and crossed the room to Percy, cupping his cheeks between her hands. “Sweetheart,” she said, “they know what you are and unless there are sounds of pain to accompany your barking, they’ll probably assume you’re just being rowdy. It’s been long enough that they’ve adjusted.”
Percy’s eyes narrowed and flicked away. “I– I don’t know.”
“You’re the one who insisted we do this in here rather than out in the woods somewhere, just in case we actually do need help.”
He didn’t answer. Vex pursed her lips and dug her nails ever so slightly into his skin. “Percy,” she warned.
“Vex,” he replied indignantly.
Ah, so he was stalling. “Very well,” she sighed, dropping her hands. “If you don’t want to do this, then,” she walked to the door and opened it, gesturing into the hallway, “feel free to retire for the evening.”
It was a difficult bluff, because this was Vex’s idea. Percy could walk out and they would leave each other alone until he truly sorted out his issues and felt comfortable around her again. Getting him to feel safe enough to be alone in a room with her had been a feat in itself.
She watched him with a careful gaze, waving a hand toward the hallway for emphasis. “Well, darling? A decision would be nice.”
Percy might not have been able to see well in the low light of her bedroom lamps but Vex could see his blush easily, creeping up his neck and across his face. “I don’t want to leave,” he said with a long exhale. “You know that as well as I do.”
Vex smiled and slammed the door shut hard enough to make Percy wince. “Then stop making excuses. I certainly don’t care if anyone hears us, and I know what to do if I’m hurt. So stop whining,” she walked back to him, grabbing the edges of her shirt and yanking it over her head, “and start worshipping.”
This, at least, was familiar, and the tone of command edged into her voice had Percy humming appreciatively, stepping closer and placing both hands on Vex’s hips. She purred and rested her hands on his shoulders as Percy leaned in, warm breath washing across her cheek. He kissed her, soft and sweet, trailing down her jaw and over her neck. “Good boy,” she cooed, lifting her neck to give him more room, breath hitching. She ran her hands up to tangle in his hair, nails digging in until he moaned against her skin, running down the back of his neck to feel his shoulder blades.
His hands slid down, one cupping her ass and the other sliding toward her core, trying to press into her there. Vex’s hand snapped down and curled around his wrist, pulling it back. “Ah, ah,” she chastised, grinning ferociously when Percy broke from his worship to frown down at her. “You have to earn that, darling.”
He huffed unhappily but settled his hand back on her hip without a word, ever obedient to her wishes. Vex leaned up, blessing him with a small kiss. “Darling, why don’t you carry me to the bed?”
“Gladly,” he breathed, bending to put one arm behind her legs, the other supporting her back as he hoisted her as easily as one of her blue feathers. Vex giggled with delight and wrapped her arms around his neck. He’d always been able to pick her up, built lean and strong from his work with tinkering and forging, but now he did it like she weighed nothing, muscles strengthened by unnatural magic, flexing under her form as Percy carried her to the bed and placed her on it like one would place an offering on a deity’s altar.
She stretched out, hair spilled underneath her, legs pressing together to feel the friction against her growing heat. She looked up at Percy with hooded eyes, lifting a hand to curl a finger at him. “Finish what you started, dear.”
Percy took a long moment to appreciate the sight of her and settled on the bed, on his knees and shuffling until he hovered over her. “You’re gorgeous, mistress,” he murmured.
“You tell me that every day, dear.”
“You’re beautiful,” he followed with, cupping a hand under her ankle, the other working the laces of her boots. “Ravishing. Radiant.” He pulled it off, only tossing it aside because he knew she didn’t care. If she’d asked he would have taken the time to tie the laces at the top and put it in her closet like a good serving boy should. But tonight wasn’t about serving, at least not entirely.
Percy undid the other boot, still dropping compliments like drops of honey. “You could crush me if you so wished, mistress.” He bent down and lifted her leg to kiss her ankle, a light brush of his warm lips. “You are wise and clever, and bless me with your attention and praise.” He set her leg down gently and moved, on hands and knees, to hover over her. “You are exquisite,” he said, kissing her again. “What can I do for you, mistress?”
“Ah, Percy, darling, you spoil me.” She ran her hands down his neck, his back, feeling the ropey muscle and the bumps of scars long healed. “Can you show me the real you, tonight? Show me,” she pressed with her hands, urging him to lower until her lips met his ear, “how ferocious you can be.”
Re: how ferocious you can be (part 2/3)
Date: 2017-06-30 05:51 pm (UTC)He released her throat, licking over the bruised spot, and shifted up to her ear. He took the lobe between his teeth, sucking and licking and biting. His breath washed across her, rustling her hair, and Vex could swear she felt fur against her skin as Percy traced the shell of her ear with his teeth.
Between her legs, his hand left her, grabbing at the ties of her breeches and yanking until they gave, a quick snap and the waist was suddenly loose around her hips and Percy slipped his hands under the edges, pulling them over her ass and freeing skin for his hands to run over, tickling the base of her belly and scratching her hip bones.
Vex breathed fast, turning to tear her ear from Percy’s attentions and look him in the face. Percy sensed her desire and moved back to meet her gaze, and Vex gasped. His eyes had gone dark, the pupils blown out, and there were indeed traces of fur at the edges of his cheeks, on the bridge of his nose, the tips of his ears. Beneath his soft lips, his bared teeth had transformed; sharp, strong things with two thick canines drawn into points. They could rip out her throat if Percy wanted them to.
Vex’s core pulsed, pleasure throbbing tight inside her.
“Darling, you look beautiful,” she said, because she knew he was insecure about this part of him, wary of becoming even more of a monster than he already thought he was. But it was also what she truly thought, with moonlight coming in from the window on the far wall to highlight the pale white fur on his skin, the way his eyes shone with darkness that was not frightening but familiar, the open pupils that showed he trusted her more than his own soul.
She reached up, curling a hand around his shoulder and pushing until he sat up. She wiggled from her pants and kicked them away, listening to them fall with an unsatisfying flutter to the floor. Thusly freed, she sat up and reached for the buttons on his shirt.
Percy yanked back, a low growl slipping between his lips. He stopped again, and said, in a voice rougher than his usual tone, “I’m not sure– I don’t know what it will look like.”
The deep timbre he’d taken in this form, this half form between what she knew and what she wanted, sent a shiver down Vex’s spine. She took a moment to breathe, and when she recovered she said, “It’ll look like you, Percy. That’s all I need.”
He bit his lip, the large canines digging in deeper than blunt, useless, weak human teeth, and he relented, laying his arms at his sides and pushing his chest just slightly toward her.
With a pleased coo, Vex undid the buttons, taking her time. Percy liked this, liked the manual undressing that he could stop at any point. He’d told Vex stories; stories of long nights, naked and strapped on a table, unable to cover himself and exposed more than a mortal body ever should be, and of how it had started with her ripping his clothes to pieces, taking the last defense he had. This way, this slow and methodical process, let him know that a single word would keep her at bay, keep him protected.
It took ages, but she revealed more of his body, peeling the shirt off and the undershirt beneath. His skin, where there still was skin, had flushed red with his excitement and anticipation. Around the edges of his pectorals, his sides, the V of his hips, there was more white fur, bursting out from his skin as he let himself let go.
Vex ran a possessive hand down his front, feeling the different between skin and fur. The skin was warm, his blood racing, and the fur was coarse, thick hairs not quite the same as her own, or even Percy’s natural chest hair, which she could still feel sparsely at the center line of his body. The wolf fur was shorter and denser, built for insulation.
“Gorgeous,” she repeated, leaning up and kissing his cheek, stifling a laugh when the hair tickled her own skin. “My wonderful puppy.” She lowered her voice another notch, barely above a whisper. “But we’re not here to play, are we?”
Percy huffed and she thought she heard a low warning growl. “That’s it, dear,” she said, “let the wildness out of you. Your mistress wants to see what you’re made of.”
Something hard as iron grabbed her forearm and her head whirled as she was tossed back down, hands and arms tangled in her hair as it fanned out around her, and she looked up to see Percy with lips drawn back, ears flicked back– and they were proper wolf ears now, triangular and downy soft and flattened in a show of aggression. Vex breathed hard and shoved herself up, enough to snatch one last kiss while his mouth still had the shape for it.
“Well?” she asked, laying back down. Percy’s nostrils flared and he brought his hands up, settling at her side to prop himself as he lowered his mouth to her breasts.
His fangs scrapped against her skin and she could feel that he was losing finesse as his mouth caught a more canine shape, the lips not as dexterous or quick. But his tongue, oh that had gotten longer and flatter already and she could feel it, swiping broad strokes across her skin, first the breasts and then lower. Percy worked his way down, occasionally stopping to just breathe against her, smelling her. She wondered if she smelled better or worse with enhanced senses, but either way Percy would crave it, he loved her too much not to.
His hands moved back to her waist, not staying long now that he had free reign at last. They slipped to her thighs and in between, urging them to part for him so he could settle in between. She glanced down and could see his pants straining, in more places than one. Morphing bone and flesh pushed the fabric past it’s limit, and Percy’s shoes were bent oddly as wolf feet struggled to find their shape.
Percy licked hot and wet over her mound. Vex’s back arched, hands flying down to tangle in Percy’s hair. “Darling,” she gasped. “Oh, please,” she spread her legs wider, inviting Percy to her center, already wet and open for him. She could feel him breathing against her skin, warm and slow, less like a man and more like a beast.
His hands tightened over her skin and Percy kissed her belly again, barely a kiss and more of a wet press, and Vex felt the fur around his face. She glanced down, seeing something that was not quite Percy, the face morphed into a long snout, his humanity fading away with every second.
He licked her once more and sat up, shuffling off the bed and reaching toward his waist to rip his pants off. He was taller, blocking the window light with his broad shoulders, muscles filled out and covered with thick layers of fur. Behind him a long, fluffy tail swung back and forth. His pants nearly tore and he pulled them off and she barely had time to see his throbbing cock before he climbed back on the bed, pausing suddenly.
Vex opened her mouth to ask what was wrong but was cut off by a howl, Percy crying out, bent over, his fingers digging into the blankets and body shivering. She could hear snaps and cracks, bones and joints stretching and popping into place, as though shedding his last layer of human protection had freed him. Percy snarled against the mattress, the tone of it shifting even lower.
Vex waited, heart racing. He’d never let her see this before.
When Percy lifted his head, her lover’s face was gone, replaced by a wolf’s head, twice as big, the rest of him proportioned to match. He was massive, nearly taking up the whole bed by himself. Vex tried to move backwards to give him more space.
Percy’s hand– larger than before, gods, they could wrap entirely around her waist– snapped out, coiling around her leg and dragging her down. Vex yelped as Percy yanked her downward, hands between her legs and keeping her spread, still hot and dripping for him. He lowered his head, sparing a second to look up and meet her gaze.
His eyes were dark and open, nostrils flaring as he took in her scent. Vex looked back for a moment, and quickly realized that he was waiting. Patient, obedient, and hers, even when he was a hulking creature halfway between human and wolf.
She huffed out a laugh, sitting up on one elbow. “Percy,” she cooed. “Didn’t I tell you to show me what you’re made of?” She put a hand between her legs, spreading herself out for him. Percy visibly twitched, though he didn’t stop looking at her. “Go wild, darling.”
He didn’t need further instruction. Percy’s hands slipped under her ass, hefting her legs over his newly broadened shoulders and bending his head to swipe his long tongue across her folds.
Vex dropped back on the bed, biting her lip as Percy licked her again, working up a pattern. It was much sloppier than eating her out in human form, his face not built the same, not made for finesse or detail. But it stroked over her in long, broad presses, his tongue soft and flat, and the tip of it flicked her clit on every upstroke. Vex hummed and pushed back, trying to get more pressure. Percy seemed to take the hint, readjusting his grip on her and pushing his tongue hard enough to dip inside her core.
“Ah, sweetheart,” she gasped, “that’s lovely, lovely, please keep going.”
A growl rumbled in Percy’s throat. He licked her faster, holding one of her legs up in the crook of his shoulder to free his hand so he could move it between her legs, keeping his tongue over her clit while his finger slipping inside her. He moved it carefully, wary of the claws that could hurt her. He knew Vex well; even without much movement, the feeling of something inside her had Vex clenching, pleasure winding tight towards its crest. “Percy,” she begged. “Percy, I’m so close–!”
Another few strokes on her clit and Vex was coming, back arching and legs clamping around Percy’s head. He licked her through her orgasm and then some, making her quiver and squirm as the pleasure became too much. “Darling, please–” she started but he kept going and Vex lost the ability to think as she whined and bucked underneath him. Percy refused to let her go, working her until a second orgasm chased down the first and Vex was screaming at the tight pain twisted up inside it.
Percy gave one final lick to her cunt, removing his thick finger from inside her, and brought his head up, panting, to watch her. Vex breathed hard and blinked, trying to get the world to come back to her. “Oh, that was . . .” She tried to find a more eloquent word, but her brain had been fried beyond recovery. “Excellent,” she decided on, wiping sweat slicked hair from the edges of her face.
Re: how ferocious you can be (part 3/3)
Date: 2017-06-30 05:58 pm (UTC)Like the rest of him, his cock had grown, and he hadn’t exactly been average before. His cock pulsed, slick with precome at the tip, bouncing as Percy moved. He curled his hands around Vex’s hips– he could reach all the way around– and pulled her hard, settling her ass on his thighs. He licked her again, over her chest, teasing her nipples with tongue and teeth until she sighed out again. She moaned, “Percy . . .”
His cock burned where it rested against her thigh, smearing juices on her. Percy rocked into Vex, caught between the roundness of her thigh and the slick, waiting heat of her cunt, as he ran his tongue over her skin and dragged teasing claws over her hips. It was almost too much, enough to have Vex’s mind reeling. She tightened her legs, trying to urge him closer, to rock into her until his cock was inside her. She needed the heat, the thickness, she wanted to see his careful control shattered as he pushed into her.
One finger moved from her hip and traced Vex’s cunt again, teasing over her clit. Vex tensed and readied herself for round three. Instead, his hand retreated and he grabbed her hips again, flipping her over to her stomach. “P-Percy?” She started to get her legs under her, sitting up, and a large hand pressed between her shoulder blades to keep her down.
It was quickly followed by a large snout pressing against her ear, Percy’s nose cold and wet as it brushed the skin. “Stay down,” he growled.
Vex had a moment to be shocked by the words before she felt Percy’s searing cock pressed behind her, his hands yanking her hips up to meet him. He teased her at first, panting slowly as the cockhead brushed over her folds. She could feel slick– hers or his, she couldn’t tell– dripping down her thighs. She spread herself open for him and got a pleased rumble in response, and Percy’s long fingers digging in deeper, sending harsh ticks up pain through her to contrast her aching need.
Vex arched her back and pressed against him with a whine, surprised by her own desperation. Percy had taken charge in bed plenty of times, had loved being able to not care how terrible he should feel for demanding her body, and Vex loved to be wanted by him. But this was . . . something else. Something primal. There was an urgency in Percy she’d never seen before, in the way he held her down and used her as a warm body to grind against. Her core throbbed and she knew she’d have to start begging soon if he insisted on keeping her hanging by the steel threads of not quite pleasure.
She was about to beg again when he pulled back and his cock slipped between her folds, and Percy thrust inside her.
“Oh, fuck,” she hissed, bucking against him as Percy slid inside her. He was thicker, and longer, and gods, Vex wished she’d suggested this sooner. Percy had taken so long to let anyone near him after being bitten in the Feywild and then of course he wouldn’t let himself shift while they shared a bed, but now, oh, Vex could get used to this.
Percy bent over and around her, big enough to completely cover her and then some. His soft fur brushed against her back and sides, and his massive canine head loomed over her own. His hot breath washed over her, smelling vaguely of her slick, as his hips pressed deep until he bottomed out.
Vex breathed hard, limbs shaking. “Darling, oh,” she moaned, “that’s so good, such a good boy, doing so well for me.”
A pause, and a low, quiet, “Anything, mistress,” against her ear. Because no matter how wild Vex told him to be or how much she wanted him to dominate her, in his heart of hearts Percy only ever wanted to please her.
And then he promptly fucked Vex into oblivion.
It wasn’t that he used anything new, but simply being fucked, feeling the hard thrust of Percy’s cock inside her, was different when instead of skin she was met with thick fur, when he was big enough to completely envelop her, when his long tongue flicked against her ear and large teeth scraped the edges. Vex’s cunt pulsed and tightened, trying to keep Percy in, to feel him stretch her, and each time he pulled out she gave a little whine at the loss before he slammed back inside her.
“Sweetheart,” she murmured, knowing he could hear her, she’d felt his cock throb at every little sound she made and thanked whichever deity for his wolf’s hearing. “How does it feel?” Vex panted between her words, catching her breath on every outstroke. “Am I tight enough for you?” She squeezed as she asked, earning a low growl from Percy. “I wonder how it would feel to breed a bitch like me, to put a precious litter in my belly.”
Percy slowed, hands dragging down where they currently held her by the shoulders. They’d played this game before– it was easy between a noble and a commoner– but not quite this way.
Vex grinned and bit her lip. “With how big you are now,” she continued, pushing against him, working with his rhythm, “I bet you’d reach right into my womb, fill me up until I can’t take it anymore. A big boy like you, you probably have a lot to give.”
Percy hesitated and bent down, opening his long maw to run teeth down Vex’s shoulder, growling low and steady. He picked up his pace again, taking extra time to grind hard into her hole. Vex purred, fingers twisting in the blankets. “That’s it. Give me everything you have, fuck me until I’m stuffed.”
The teeth on her shoulder dug in hard. Vex cried out and she could swear she felt extra slick dripping down her thighs, coating Percy’s cock to ease the way, begging body and soul for his seed.
Percy’s arms wrapped around her waist, teeth latching on her shoulder with more grip, and he lifted her up, still biting her, until Vex was on her knees and Percy could fuck up into her. He grabbed at her breasts with wolfish hands, fur and thick padded skin running down her body. She squirmed, a token protest, while her cunt continued to milk his cock for everything Percy had.
He detached from her shoulder, the skin throbbing with a hard bruise but no blood, and Percy growled, “You’re mine. Every part of you.”
Vex smiled and told him, “Prove it.”
Percy howled and thrust once, twice, and she felt him pouring into her, heat and slick filling her up. She was so full she felt stretched with it, bloating as he claimed her.
And . . . there was a stretch. An actual stretch, something filling out her inner walls, twinging sharply in unexpected pain. “Ahh,” she cried as Percy pushed her down again, flat on the bed with his body pinning hers. The stretch continued until Vex thought she might break, toes curling as pleasure mixed with the strange new feeling. “Percy,” she gasped, trying to arch against him, but like this he was solid as a rock and refused to move. “P-Percy, is that . . .” Her brow furrowed. “Are you knotting me?”
Percy huffed, and said, “I believe so.” He sounded the most like himself he had during the entire endeavor, though it was still deeper, rumbling, like a dog instead of a human.
Percy shifted and the knot pulled, hard enough to make Vex hiss and twist against the feeling. “Fuck, shit,” she spat, huffing. She’d thought Percy had filled her with his wolf cock, and she’d been wrong, so wrong, this was what truly being filled was.
And he was still coming. She could feel the slow build of heat and every pulse as his cock released inside her, determined to fill her until something caught. Percy sighed a little, rocking into her, running his clawed hands down her sides and over her shoulders. The bruise where he’d bitten her flared with fresh pain when he touched it and she hummed at the sweet ache.
There was no clock or way to tell time, and Vex could have been there hours or minutes. It was long enough that Percy’s massive weight had started to crush her and she was about to ask him to move, when he pulled at his cock again. The stretch was still there and Vex cursed as it left her, but it came out, and with it a gush of come. It dripped hot and sticky down her legs. Vex flipped on her back as soon as Percy gave her the room, shuffling up and flopping back against the pillows.
“Holy fucking shit,” she muttered.
Percy put his head down near her stomach and licked across it, smelling her. Vex frowned and watched carefully as he brushed hands down her thighs and licked again, moving toward her center. “What are you–” she started, cut off as he licked straight over her clit. “Percy!”
He started again in earnest, eating her out while she gushed out a mix of come and slick. Percy dug his claws into the meat of her thighs, dragging them down to scratch as he dipped his tongue in her and flicked it on her oversensitive clit. Vex screeched and her legs trembled but Percy didn’t relent until she was shaking with a third orgasm, bucking against his muzzle and begging for mercy.
When she’d finished, he finally moved up beside her and settled down, nearly crowding her out of the bed with how big he was. Vex took a minute to compose herself, the weight on the bed shifting as she brought herself back down to the real world.
By the time she looked at him again, Percy was himself, with normal skin and no wolf head and his tail vanished into nothing. She looked him up and down. “Well then.”
Percy frowned, reaching out with one hand to brush the hair from her face. “Did you– did you like it?”
“Like it?” Vex laughed and pointed between her legs. “Darling, I haven’t been that thoroughly wrecked in a while.”
Percy laughed with her, though there was a nervous edge to it. “I’m– I’m glad.”
“Oh, and Percy?” Vex rolled over onto her side and hooked her leg around his, not caring about the slick mess that would cover them both by the end of the evening.
“Yes?”
“Next time we’re starting with the knot, and we’ll see how many rounds you can go.”
Re: how ferocious you can be (part 3/3)
Date: 2017-06-30 09:20 pm (UTC)Percy/Taryon
Date: 2017-07-01 01:04 am (UTC)~
It’s strange. Taryon is a good five years older than Percy, and yet somehow Percy feels as though he’s responsible for taking care of this naive, wayward manchild. Percy isn’t good at taking responsibility - something his sister could rant about for hours at a time, if asked - but this is much easier than his usual responsibilities. Tary, after all, just needs a firm hand and a little attention.
The man in question is currently bent over the edge of the bed, fingers clutching the sheets and trying to muffle his groans by burying his face in the mattress. Percy wants to grab his hair and drag him upwards so he can hear all the pretty noises Tary is making, but it’ll have to wait until he has a hand free because right now one of them is three fingers deep inside him and the other is stroking Percy’s own cock.
Tary is rocking back eagerly onto his fingers, always willing to take anything Percy gives him and still beg for more. He’s not good at begging though, which is something of a shame. Percy sympathizes with having pride but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to hear it.
“Do you think you could come like this?” Percy asks idly. “Just my fingers in your greedy hole?”
Tary groans and nods.
“I suppose we’d have to flip you over so you couldn’t rut against my bed. That’d ruin the experiment.”
Tary tilts his head forward enough to free his mouth, “No, nonono.”
“What’s wrong? You don’t want to see me?”
Tary hesitates. There’s an obvious right answer here but he doesn’t want to say it.
Percy smirks, not that Tary can see it. “Do you find the bedsheets more interesting than me? I’m a little hurt, Taryon.”
Tary gives a low, put upon whine and twists himself around, wiggling further up the bed as he does so. He gives Percy a look that he probably thinks is searing hatred but mostly just looks like a pouting teenager. His hard cock bobs against his belly but that’ll be the only friction it gets for the rest of the night. Percy has no intention of touching it and Taryon has already learned that Percy will break out the Manners ball if Tary can’t keep his hands off his cock.
Percy likes to think he’s instilling a sense of discipline in him.
“Now that’s much better, don’t you think?” Percy says, looming over Tary. “This way I get to see your pretty face when you come.”
The pout melts off of Tary and turns into hopefulness at the confirmation that yes, Percy is going to let him come tonight. He should really know better at this point that it isn’t going to be that easy.
The change in Tary’s position means Percy has to reangle his fingers to hit the spot he wants but it isn’t hard to find when Tary arches and moans the instant his fingertips slide across it. Precome drips from the head of Tary’s cock and pools on his soft belly as Percy’s nimble fingers do their work.
Percy’s own cock slides across Tary’s splayed thigh, nowhere close to where Tary wants it, which is either inside of him or pressed against Tary’s. Percy enjoys the contrast between them when they do the latter - Tary isn’t all that big and particularly not in comparison to Percy, who had always thought he was just average sized, until he actually said it out loud in Scanlan’s spa one night. Vax almost drowned laughing. Tary’s cock is slender and short, which makes it a pleasant mouthful but Percy has already decided that Tary can either come on his cock tonight or not at all.
Speaking of which.
“Percy,” Tary gasps.
“Yes, dear?” Percy responds as casually as if they were strolling through town.
“Percy, please.”
“Use your words.”
“I - I want you in me, please.”
Percy clucks his tongue. “I’m already in you, dear. Pay attention.” Percy wriggles a fourth finger inside of Tary’s hole for emphasis and Tary wails. Percy’s going to get shit for that later from Cassandra. Tary isn’t good at quiet but Percy likes his noises too much to fuck him in the silence bubble, though that isn’t to say they’ve never used it for that purpose when they were somewhere they shouldn’t have been.
“I want - oh gods. I want more, please, Percy, I need it.”
“If you need something so badly then you should be able to tell me what it is.”
Percy’s fingers press hard into Tary’s prostate and Tary’s back arches. His hands flail in an aborted motion to grab his cock before he thinks better of it and Percy rewards him by shifting one of Tary’s legs over his shoulder and pressing a kiss to his knee.
“Your cock,” Tary gasps out, “I want your cock inside me. I want you to fuck me, gods, Percy, please.”
“Ah, now there we are. That’s a good start, I think. I’m not sure you’ve earned it yet though.”
Tary all but sobs and thrashes. “Percy. Percy.”
“Yes?”
The moment Tary breaks is always beautiful. His face twists and tears roll down his cheeks, his knuckles go white with how tightly they’re clutching the sheets, and he just starts babbling a near incoherent stream of words. “I want your thick cock, I want it inside me, I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk, I want to feel it split me open, I want it to hurt, I want your come in me, hot and deep and wet, you’re so big, Percy, you fill me up so deep, and it’s so much and it’s too much and I want it.”
Percy pulls his fingers out and watches for only a moment as Tary whines and tries to clench down on nothing. Only a moment though, because then Percy is slamming into him all the way to the hilt.
Tary’s mouth opens but no sound comes out. His cock spurts and streaks his chest with white. Percy feels a fierce swell of pride that yes, Tary managed to come without a single touch to his cock.
Of course, he didn’t wait until Percy told him he could, but that’s about to be its own punishment because Percy has every intention of following through.
Percy usually prefers to start out languid when he’s fucking Tary, but that’s just because it drives Tary up the wall. Tary likes getting fucked hard and this time Percy means to oblige him. Percy doesn’t give Tary a single second to breathe after his orgasm. He pounds into him hard and deep and fast, and this time Tary’s gasps are not of pleasure.
“It’s too much, too soon, Percy, I can’t.”
Percy growls and leans over him, still driving his hips into Tary. “I thought you wanted too much? And if you didn’t, maybe you shouldn’t have come without permission.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, sorrysorrysorry,” Tary slurs out, drooling shamelessly onto the bed.
Percy grins wildly. “Oh, I know you are.”
He turns his focus to his own pleasure, but he keeps an ear out for Tary’s safeword. Tary is very much soft and oversensitive and definitely losing his mind as Percy fucks him, but he’s never failed to safeword before when he needed it, no matter how out of it he was. You could certainly say this for him - Tary was a man who knew exactly when he’d reached his limit.
By the time Percy is close, Tary is clenching down around him again and while Tary certainly won’t come again, he’s at least rocking back into every thrust. Percy knows perfectly well what Tary wants, which is exactly why he isn’t going to give it to him.
When he feels himself on the edge, he pulls out abruptly. Tary thumps his head back on the bed in frustration, whining “No, no nonono, Percy,” as Percy strokes himself to completion on Tary’s chest, his come joining the already sticky and drying mess that Tary left.
“I hate you,” Tary sulks.
“Uh huh,” Percy pants. “And what have we learned?”
“That you’re mean and only give me what I want when I don’t want it?”
Percy laughs at that and flops on the bed next to Tary rather than getting up to find a wet towel. Tary won’t be able to sleep without taking a bath anyway. “If that’s the only thing you learned then I feel this lesson is going to keep coming up.”
Percy isn’t even looking at Tary and he can sense Tary’s eyes go wide with alarm. “I’m not supposed to come without permission.”
“There it is.”
Tary huffs. “I’ll do better next time.”
Percy hums in response. “I believe in you,” and he means it.
Re: Raishan/Conclave; noncon
Date: 2017-07-01 01:21 am (UTC)“And did,” she spits, through clenched teeth. He growls and presses down harder into her spine; she takes it, does not let it stamp out the anger inside her.
She did it; she won, she outsmarted him, brought Vox Machina and all their godly weapons to face him down--and what got her in the end, what ruined the whole fucking plan, was just brute strength. it’s barbaric. It’s a sign of the old days, the ones he wants to drag them back to.
“And yet it does not matter,” he snarls, “and you are at my mercy, once again.”
She clenches her fists and stares ahead. She knows this gods-damned song and dance, his unsophisticated, brutal way of satisfying himself, telling himself he’s better than her, stronger than her, more than her--even though he’ll never be, even though he doesn’t have half her fucking wits and less now that he’s-
His thick, scaled cock pushes into her, without warning, without hesitation, and she screams, against her will, from the unbearable pain of it, from the feeling that she is going to break and the knowledge that this form cannot take this and yet he goes on, thrusts hard and deep into her and laughs as she feels her vision- going- blank-
She wakes up some time later. No longer a human; that form, she’s sure, was torn apart. Even as a dragon she aches; wonders how long he had his fun, after she shifted back.
She goes to move, to fly away, and feels chains against her wings. Heavy, enchanted cuffs holding her down.
The anger in her chest, already a wildfire, rages.
Re: Anyone/Any Dragonborn
Date: 2017-07-01 01:37 am (UTC)___
Tiberius considers himself a refined individual. For a long time, he’d ignored every base urge; tried to keep his fiery temper under control, courted before any contact, but now-
Gern just makes him so angry. He refuses to debate issues intellectually, he’s inane, he’s a necromancer, and fuck he’s hot. His blue scales, lighter where scars ripple across his back, flashed electric in the sunlight. He refused to wear proper robes, leaving his well-muscled arms on display for the whole world to see. Not to mention the red vest he wore was so garish and horrible anyone would be compelled to rip it off him.
So, it was only natural that when Gern flashed him a sneering grin and tackled him to the ground Tiberius would reach up and grab his horns, drag his face down to flick his tongue over the seam of Gern’s mouth.
“Oh, are ye finally coming around then?” Gern chucked deep in his throat and dipped his snout lower. His tongue dragged slowly over Tiberius’s neck, tracing the broad scales that defended his throat.
Tiberius shuddered.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he huffed, out as Gern’s hands wrapped around his wrists and held him down. His claws caught on the edges between his scales and a pinprick of pain rises to the surface of his skin.
“Doesn’t seem like ye mindin’ much tho,” Gern grinned. Tiberius snorted a small puff of smoke out of his nose, but submitted as Gern used his superior strength to flip him over on his stomach.
Gern dragged his claws down Tiberius’s back, tracing the ridges of his back. With a decisive move, he grabbed Tiberius’s tail and pinned it to against his back. Tiberius couldn’t help but let out a moan at how exposed he was.
“Don’t worry Tibsy, I’ll take care a ye”
Tiberius hates the way that makes his blood rush downwards. He can feel himself growing hot under his scales, and his cock slides out of his sheath as Gern presses a thumb along his cloaca.
“Oh you’re getting all nice and ready for me, aren’t ye?” Gern pressed two fingers deep inside, and Tiberius felt a loud moan force its way out of his throat. “Betcha’d look so good filled up with my eggs, wouldn’t ye? Roosting so pretty, claimed just for me”
The threat is empty, Tiberius doesn’t have the inner workings for egg making, but somehow the thought of being claimed by this annoyingly, handsome dragonborn was exhilarating. He pushed back on Gern’s fingers, trying to speed him along.
“Hurry will you? I’m not about to be made to wait for something like this”
Gern chuckled above him and leaned over Tiberius’s back.
“Yer bossy as any Draconian I’ve ever known,” He said, languidly dragging his tongue around the base of Tiberius’s horn. He did speed up his hand though, stroking the inside with blunted claws and making Tiberius shake with every thrust.
After a moment he removed his hand, keeping Tiberius’s tail pinned out of the way. Tiberius felt him position his cock right at the edge of his cloaca and teased the opening with his head.
“For fuck’s sake do it!“ Tiberius let out another puff of smoke, curling his fingers into the dirt in front of him. He was drawn taught as a bowstring. He could feel his heart pounding in his ears, feel the wetness inside him and the heaviness of his cock. He had never done anything like this, but if something didn’t happen soon, he was going to flip Gern over and sink down on that cock himself.
Then suddenly Gern rocked forward and slid inside completely. Tiberius couldn’t hold back a moan as he was filled, feeling himself gush around the thickness in his cloaca.
Gern chuckled again and rocked forward. Tiberius felt Gern’s claws dig into his hips as he thrusted into him, setting a brutal pace that sent jolts of pleasure up Tiberius’s spine.
“Oh fuck,” Gern growled, before biting down on Tiberius’s shoulder. His teeth dug in between the tough scales and worried the skin a little. Tiberius yelped in pain and pushed back against the thrusts, feeling a dull ache build inside him. His body wanted release, but he was held just on the edge.
Without warning, Gern shoved in and came hard. As Tiberius felt hot cum drip out of his cloaca, Gern let a bolt of lightning travel through his throat and down his teeth into Tiberius shoulder. The pain ignited something inside him and, faster than he expected, his orgasm raced through him. He felt his cloaca clench down on Gern’s softening cock has his back arched, and more cum slipped free.
Panting, Gern moved back, letting Tiberius’s tail fall from his shoulder and rest on the ground. Tiberius slumped over, feeling the aftershocks of the electricity pulse through him a few times.
“Well, enjoyed yerself didja?”
__
Hope you liked it!
Re: how ferocious you can be (part 3/3)
Date: 2017-07-01 02:54 am (UTC)Re: Percy/Ripley, Gun kink (and assorted others that come as a package deal)
Date: 2017-07-01 03:23 am (UTC)And her, of course. Always her. Ripley smiles as she presses the barrel of the revolver against his cheek, and they are the only cool things within this stifling miasma: the metal of the gun, and her sharp smile. It's a relief to Percy's burning muscles. He leans into the touch, staring down.
Her hand in his hair drags his him back up. The smoke swirls around them both but she is perfectly clear, even if he isn’t sure he’s wearing his glasses anymore—one traitorous guard or another had knocked them off; he’d never know who. Ripley is clear and so is the gun holds before him, and his name inscribed on the barrel. It’s the Pepperbox and Animus both; here the grip on his original (art piece) weapon and there the darker sheen of Ripley’s barrels. Sylas Briarwood, Delilah Briarwood, Ozwyn Grund. Cassandra de Rolo, Percival de Rolo…will Orthax get his soul twice over, then, he wonders? (He’d never doubted whose name would fill the sixth barrel.)
“Open up, Percival,” and the lip of the barrel is against his own. He obeys—it will hurt less if he doesn’t fight, he knows that. She taught him that.
He gasps as the gun enters his mouth, filling the space completely. Six barrels and still so light, but wide. Long. Smoke seeps in around the edges and he chokes as it pushes deeper, deeper until there’s no air left in his lungs. Nothing on his tongue but bitter metal and vengeance. Yet still he doesn’t fight.
“Very good.” Ripley pets his hair, barely pulling at all, and pulls the trigger.
Percy is so familiar with the pain of psychic feedback, he doesn’t think to worry as it sears through his mind. When the whiteness in his vision fades, he is panting again, swallowing lungful after lungful of smoke before he realizes his mouth is empty.
“Now what do we say, Percival?” Ripley demands, over the familiar sound of her loading the gun. Her attention on him doesn’t waver; the motions of her hands as practiced as Percy’s own.
“Thank you. Thank you, doctor.” he murmurs. “Thank you, thank you, please please please—”
Something inside him screams furiously as he begs, but the rest of him agrees: please, please, let this happen. Let him open his mouth in an obedient O. Let her slide the revolver back down his throat, gunmetal now warmed to the temperature of his body but still so alien to touch, to taste, to feel holding his lips stretched too-wide, his throat spasming. Let it press down on his tongue with the weight of that one, beautiful bullet, crafted with quick and clever fingers and a mind far worse. Please, please, please—
Percy sat up in bed, breathing heavily, before she fired. Vex didn’t let him keep a gun under his pillow anymore—it was on the far side of the bedroom table, far enough that he had to reach. Far enough to feel the cool, clear Whitestone air, see the moonlight shining through the window and Vex’ahlia curled beside him under the covers.
She woke as he did, ever alert, though drowsy. Staring at him with lidded eyes, and a sleep-slurred voice. “Percy? You okay?”
“Fine.” He took three deep breaths, forcing his pulse to settle, and slid back under the blankets with her. And hoped she was too asleep notice that his skin was hot without them, in much the way it had been earlier that night when she was kissing him.
Percy closed his eyes, and tried not imagine gunmetal on his tongue. “Just a nightmare.”
Re: Percy/Ripley, Gun kink (and assorted others that come as a package deal)
Date: 2017-07-01 03:30 am (UTC)WHOA
OH MY GOD
THIS WAS
WOW
This was so incredibly hot. And good. That psychic damage. Him opening his mouth to accept it. Her thrusting the gun into his mouth. The WARM gun into his mouth.
This is everything I've ever wanted for these two. I'm just, whoa. Wow. Oh god.
Fill: My Champion
Date: 2017-07-01 04:32 am (UTC)Vex bargains, while distantly her family enacts a ritual.
Vex bargains, and the Goddess listens.
Rise, my Champion.
Vex hadn’t realized she was kneeling. She staggers to her feet. “You won’t regret this.”
I know. The Goddess’ face shifts, her mask cracks and splinters and breaks away into a million pieces of porcelain that darken and become raven feathers. The Goddess shrinks, to giant size, Grog size, orc size, and stops, nearly a head taller than Vex.
My Champion, her hand reaches and brushes some of Vex’s hair back from her face. I have been waiting for you, for such a long time.
Her face looms and Vex feels a cold icy pressure on her face, her lips, sucking the air from her lungs, the heat from her body …
… and then she wakes up, on the floor of the temple, clutched in Vax’s arms. Keyleth is crying and clinging to Kash and Zahra is horrified and even Grog looks nervous.
The heat of so many bodies crowded around her is too much, it’s scalding, like steam over a cooking fire.
She struggles free of them and staggers to the center of the room. Trinket follows her, nuzzling her and licking her face. She pets him automatically, soothing him, while still she can feel the icy touch of lips on her own.
~*~
The ravens are nice.
They bring her shiny things, little coins, quartz stones from the road, sometimes even lost earrings and jeweled broaches. Vex has black feathers in her hair now, but she gives the smelly armor to her brother. She fletches her arrows with raven feathers, and she swears they seem to shoot more accurately than ever before.
Well done, my Champion … whispers a deep, soft voice in her ear in Vex’s next battle.
Vex nearly fumbles her bow.
A straight shot. He shall not rise again. A cold breeze flutters her hair and feathers.
Vex gulps, and nods.
She braces herself for it each time she draws her bow, or each time she sneaks ahead with her brother and uses a dagger to attack from stealth. It isn’t every time, but enough that she starts to anticipate the praise, the compliments, the assessments of her prowess in battle.
Beautifully shot and you are so strong and I am impressed and I chose you well.
Vex feels heat on her cheeks, despite the rush of cold air that seems to accompany these messages.
She wakes sweating in the night, a thin layer of frost cast over her bedroll, the faintest impression of lips on her face or her neck or … lower.
Whispers of My Champion soothes her to sleep, awakens her in times of crisis, rewards her after a successful battle.
After nearly two weeks of this, Vex takes a chance.
“My lady …” she whispers, one night in the darkness.
My Champion.
“Have I … am I … am I serving you well?”
I am most pleased with your service, my Champion. Do you doubt me?
“Never.” Vex shakes. “Only … only myself.”
Oh, my Champion …
Then there are arms, or at least the suggestion of arms, around Vex, cold air and pressure.
There were multitudes. Yet I waited for you. I am patient, when necessary.
Cold, almost burning cold, presses against Vex’s bare skin, well beneath her clothing.
You are my Champion. Your deeds reflect well upon me. I am so very proud of what you have accomplished thus far, and I will be prouder still at your future deeds.
Vex squirms and whimpers beneath the invisible caresses.
What feels very much like a hand, a clawed hand with talons like a bird’s, cups over her mouth.
Slay this beast that dares to defy timely death.
Vex can only nod. Her face burns and her body throbs with need.
Slay all of his petty comrades.
Vex whimpers through the invisible fingers at her mouth, feeling other fingers now, pressing at the cusp of her thighs.
My Champion.
Vex’s whole body arches. She feels like she’s flying.
Fill: Pretty One
Date: 2017-07-01 04:36 am (UTC)Vax is a bit tipsy. Not drunk. He’s never drunk when he does this.
Not that he’s done this much so far. Enough that he knows what he’s doing, sure … but only just barely. He knows he’s attractive though, which was a delightful discovery after leaving Syngorn. Outside the snobby circles their father had paraded them about in, the twins have found no shortage of sexual partners. It seems everyone wants to sleep with a half-elf. Vax has coupled with humans, a dwarf woman, a male halfling, other half-elves, and even a few elves to his utter shock.
No dragonborn though. Not yet, anyways.
Vex’ahlia rolls her eyes at him as he meanders over to the other side of the bar. The man – at least Vax is assuming man, from the clothing choices – is at a table, nursing a glass of water. He’s been giving Vax the eye for some time now, and Vax decides it’s high time to make a move.
“Hey there, handsome,” Vax says, because that’s been a good bet in the past. “Mind if I join you?”
The dragonborn has a copper hue to his scales. They shine in the lantern light as he looks up to meet Vax’s gaze.
“Not at all, pretty one,” the dragonborn gestures to the empty chair.
Vax grins and sits, taking more stock of his quarry. The dragonborn is dressed in dark green clothing, in shades that compliment his scales. He looks well off, but not so rich as to be drawing significant attention from the thieves frequenting the tavern tonight.
They make conversation, sipping their respective drinks. News from the town, shifts in the weather, innocuous things. He finds out the dragonborn’s name is Balasar, and gives his name in return. Balasar is a scholar of minor means, visiting the city’s libraries. Vax says he does odd jobs, and Balasar doesn’t press him for more information, though anyone can see that Vax doesn’t look like a carpenter or a mason.
Before long, Vax sees Vex leaving with the barmaid, a buxom girl with a pile of red curls and pockets stuffed full of tips from appreciative patrons. Vex winks at him over her shoulder, hand already on the ass of the barmaid.
“Your clutchmate is fortunate tonight,” Balasar says, glancing at the retreating Vex. “Though she seems much faster than you at getting what she wants.”
Vax smirks. “What do you think I want?”
A clawed hand rests on Vax’s knee beneath the table. “Do you have a room here, pretty one?”
“Yeah.” Stolen of course: the real guest passed out at the bar and his room key in Vax’s pocket.
“Then let us proceed.” Balasar stands.
Vax follows, and leads him upstairs above the bar to a narrow hallway. He passes a room already occupied, hears grunting and moaning through the door. One sounds like the dwarf woman he bedded three nights ago. He flushes in remembrance.
“Patience, pretty one,” Balasar rests a hand on Vax’s shoulder. “I am sure I can coax such sounds from your throat before long.”
Vax fumbles with the key at the door, the dragonborn’s breath hot on his neck.
The room is simple: a bed, a basin by a mirror, a shuttered window. Balasar fumbles with the latch and locks it, turning to Vax.
“Pretty one,” he murmurs, voice rasping slightly. Vax wonders where the man learned Common, and what Draconic sounds like from a proper draconic mouth and not the smooth lips of their tutors.
Balasar reaches for him, pulling him close. Vax is shocked at the warmth, the scaled skin pressing against him, he’d been expecting the dragonborn to feel cold for some reason.
“I would very much like to fuck you,” Balasar’s voice has gone extremely raspy now, the burr of a growl building at the base of his throat. “Have you lain with dragonkind before?”
“No,” Vax admits. At first he thought admitting ignorance would dissuade paramours, but after a few misunderstandings, he’s learned to be honest in that at least. “But that sounds like a good time.”
“Oh, it is,” Balasar’s voice is a deep rumble now, warm and pleased. “I’ve had no complaints.”
He steers Vax to the bed, clawed hands pulling at the ties and fastenings of Vax’s clothing. Balasar hisses in agitation. “I cannot … you must do this yourself, or I shall rip them from you.”
Vax undresses quickly, noting the way Balasar’s clothing is designed to accommodate for clawed hands. Something useful to remember in the future, for other dragonborn, if he’s lucky.
The scales cover Balasar’s entire body, varying in size and shade across his form. The scales beneath his clothing are darker, deep umber in shade, like the earth from a fire pit. He has no intent on his belly, just a smooth stretch of scaly skin. And between his legs …
Vax just stares. It looks like a cock, in the basic shape, larger than most he’s had before. There are ridges along its sides, slightly raised up, and ruffled layers at the tip and base. No scales on the cock, it looks like bare flesh, dark umber in shade, and the ridges are a bit darker.
“Can I …” Vax hesitates.
“Please, touch.” Balasar grins.
Vax reaches out and strokes the cock, slowly at first. It feels like the flesh of any other cock he’s had before, a bit more firm in places, the texture inconsistent. The ridges intrigue him. He runs a finger along one of them, puts a bit of pressures into the touch. It feels much harder than the flesh around it.
Balasar moans. The cock twitches, becoming firmer and rising higher.
“What do you require, to prepare?” Balasar asks, panting.
“Just ah, a moment,” Vax finds a small jar in his clothes and slicks his fingers. “Usually I’d ask for some help but … I don’t think that’d go well with your hands.”
Balasar considers his claws. “Yes, I agree.”
Vax reclines on the bed and begins to stretch himself open, easing in a finger at a time. Before long, his cock is swelling too, though not nearly as impressive as Balasar’s.
Balasar perches on the edge of the bed, watching Vax with interest. “You have lain with males before?”
“Yes …” Vax huffs from the exertion, stretching himself thoroughly.
“Can you come, from a cock inside you?”
Vax blushes, three fingers sunk into himself. “I haven’t yet.”
Balasar makes a contemplative sound, half growl and half hiss. “I would like to see that, very much.”
Vax arches up onto his elbows and knees. “You can certainly try.”
Balasar sinks onto the bed, clawed hands reaching for Vax’s hips. “Mmmm, I do not want you like this, pretty one. Not like an animal.” He twists Vax around, onto his back, tugging a pillow clumsily and sliding it beneath Vax’s waist. “I wish to see your face as you come.”
Vax blushes. Then he yelps, as the tip of Balasar’s cock brushes his entrance. It’s warm, in fact much warmer than cocks he’s felt before.
Balasar hisses deeply, an appreciative noise. He pushes Vax’s legs wider, and guides his cock into Vax slowly.
Vax feels the ridges most, the ruffles he knows must be aiding in the cock’s glide inside him, but the ridges are what he feels. The usual pain of stretching is much more pleasurable with the ridges. They’re an exciting variation from the usual way of things. He tries to clench around them and gasps at the increase in sensation.
“Patience, pretty one,” Balasar huffs above him, “I am not yet halfway inside you.”
Vax gapes at him. “You’re not serious!”
Balasar thrusts his hips suddenly and Vax feels scales scrape the back of his thighs.
“Oh … oh!” Vax gasps. “You … you were … oh … gods …”
“You may do what you will now,” Balasar chuckled, hips beginning to cant forward and back. “Do not try to wait, I will take my pleasure when it suits me. I like to feel the spasmsing of a bedmate while I am hard.”
Vax tries to angle his hips and meet Balasar’s thrusts with some of his own. He feels clumsy and off balance, but the dragonborn doesn’t seem to mind.
“Do you know what you look like?” Balasar grunts.
“N-no?” Vax moans after a particularly deep thrust. Some of the ridges rub at an especially good angle. His own cock is throbbing, leaking over his stomach. He could reach down and satisfy it himself, but he’s curious to see if he can in fact come from Balasar’s work alone.
“A beautiful prize … speared on my cock.” Balasar clutches at Vax’s sides with his claws. “If these were the old days, I would take you back to Draconia and fill you with my eggs.”
Vax blinked. There seemed to be anatomical complications with that, but he couldn’t really rouse himself to care much so long as Balasar kept thrusting.
“Or I would have taken you on a field of battle,” Balasar mused, voice rough and ragged now, losing those refined accented touches some tutor must have drilled into his head long ago. “Ripped you from your armor and had you there in the muck.”
“You think I’d go down without a fight?” Vax meets Balasar’s thrusts with his hips, sinking all the way down the length.
“I know you would,” Balasar laughs, scrapes a claw across Vax’s chest just hard enough to leave a mark. Vax shivers.
“Anyone can see that you want to be taken.” Balasar’s claw scratches along Vax’s belly.
Vax wants to argue, but it’s difficult to come up with a retort when there’s a cock buried hilt-deep in him.
“Mmm, you like the tease of pain, pretty one? You need only have asked.” Balasar rakes five claws across Vax’s ribs.
Vax yelps, and his cock pulses.
Balasar continues to thrust, making pleased noises as Vax shudders and twitches in the throes of orgasm.
Vax contemplates the slick of his own come, and the slick of the five trails of blood on his side. It’s not as unpleasant as he would have thought.
Balasar growls, huffs, and bellows loudly. His cock throbs inside Vax. The familiar burning and full sensation builds inside Vax as Balasar begins to withdraw. His come seems much warmer than what Vax has felt before, not scalding but noticeable.
“You are beautiful when you are in pleasure,” Balasar murmurs, stretching out on the length of the bed. “Are you satisfied?”
“Yeah,” Vax grins, the buzz of a good fuck making him feel a bit silly. “You wanna sleep?”
“Very much so.” Balasar presses a messy kiss of sorts to Vax’s lips, and slumps onto the mattress.
When Vax wakes, he’s delightfully sore. Balasar is gone, but Vax’s clothes and money are still on the floor, so Vax counts that as a good morning.
He winces when he stands, finding several raw scrapes and scratches along his thighs from the previous night’s activities.
Vax makes a mental note to invest in some protective underclothes for the next time he beds a dragonborn.
Fill: Too Much Wine
Date: 2017-07-01 04:40 am (UTC)Vex wants the day to herself.
That means giving him over to the team. Actually handing him over to them, like a … a pet, to be watched and minded.
It’s humiliating, to be treated like that.
Percy loves it.
He loves the twist in his stomach, the burn on his face as blood rushes to his cheeks, the way he can’t look at any of them in the eye. He especially loves that he isn’t expected to make eye contact. Or to do anything at all really.
“Take care of him, please, I’ve just got such a lot to do today and I can’t be keeping an eye on him on top of everything.” Vex says. She presses a kiss to Percy’s head, ruffles his hair fondly, and is gone.
At first they mostly ignore him. They carry on with their card games, and idle chatter, sipping drinks and discussing spells. Scanlan is plucking on a lute, trying out different tunes.
Some of them ruffle his hair, tell him he’s so good and quiet, tell him they’ll be sure to tell Vex how good he’s been. It stirs feelings within him, feelings he doesn’t have the capacity to even begin to think of acting upon.
At some point food is brought. Pike feeds him by hand, makes a plate for him and cuts up his meat and bread into bite sized pieces, parcels them to him gently. Scanlan tips his head back and brings a cup to his lips, stroking his face afterwards.
They drift in and out of the room during the day. At one point, everyone else leaves and Keyleth pushes Vax onto one of the couches, straddling him, riding his cock like Percy isn’t even in the room. Percy’s face heats and his cock throbs and he doesn’t move from his spot.
There’s more food later, more water, and wine too, none of which he’s expected to handle himself.
Shadows lengthen and the fire is lit. His cock throbs, but for a different reason now. He wants to speak, or to just stand up and walk out of the room. But he can’t. He can’t …
… his face burns hotter than ever before, and he hangs his head and his clothing soaks and the smell fills the room. His cock isn’t throbbing any more.
Nobody complains. Nobody yells. They just bring him away, out of the room, up to Vex’s rooms, stripping him and dumping him in a bathtub.
Vex arrives, shoos the rest of them out, and fills the bath. She soaps up her hands and cards her fingers through his hair, making soft noises.
“Don’t know what they expected. Filling you with wine like that! I’ll have words with them,” she grumbles, bundling him into a blanket and bringing him to bed. “You were very good today, darling. Very, very good.”
He smiles at her, and drifts off to sleep.
Re: Everyone, coming out.
Date: 2017-07-01 03:36 pm (UTC)Re: [EP 100 spoilers] Fill: All Soft Focus; Delilah/Cassandra/Raishan; NC-17; 1/1
Date: 2017-07-01 04:06 pm (UTC)Re: Belonging, Polymachina + Voyeur Cass, NC-17
Date: 2017-07-01 04:23 pm (UTC)