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Cold Boys Kink Meme ([personal profile] coldboys) wrote2026-09-28 01:56 pm
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Polar Explorer RPF - Prompt Post 1

This is for prompts for all things general Polar Explorer RPF.

If you've filled (or started filling) a prompt, please make sure to link it in the comments of the Fills Post. And if you would like to cross-post your fills on AO3, here is the collection!

Under this umbrella you can prompt: 
  • Historical versions of Franklin Expedition(-adjacent) guys (Rossier, Gore/McClure, etc)
  • Madhouse at the End of the Earth/Belgica Expedition
  • Heroic Age of Antarctic Exploration - Shackleton, Scott, Amundsen, Mawson
  • Andrée Expedition
  • Karluk Expedition
  • etc

Prompts in line with adaptations of Heroic Age stories can also fit here, for example if you want to specifically prompt Hugh Grant!Cherry from The Last Place On Earth getting wrecked (which someone really should). 

No blorbo too obscure for this post! EXCEPT: NO PEARY ALLOWED. God I hate that guy.



Rules: 

1. Be fucking nice. YKINMATO/KINKTOMATO at all times.
 
2. This meme is CNTW (Choose Not To Warn) but warnings are highly encouraged.
 
3. Prompts should use this format in the subject line: [SHIP], [DESCRIPTION]
e.g.
Mertz/Ninnis, sex crying
 
Solo gen can be prompted as well alongside (a) character name and description
e.g.
Gen, Emil Racovitza, discovering a crazy new fish
 
4. Fills should use this format in the subject line: FILL: [TITLE], [PAIRING], [RATING], [ANY WARNINGS]
e.g.
Fill: The Very Next Day, Cherry/Birdie, E, cw self-harm
 
5. One prompt per comment please. 
 
6. Multiple fills for each prompt are welcome! 
 
7. You don't have to be anon for your prompts or your fills but we do encourage it because of the vibe. You're also welcome to deanon your stuff by posting on AO3/Tumblr as you please! 
 
8. Feedback on prompts and fills is AWESOME; please take longer conversations to the discussion post.


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FILL: "Where No One Would Believe that Someone Could F..." Cook/Amundsen, E, Part 13/? choking/bites

(Anonymous) 2023-03-31 05:13 pm (UTC)(link)

Fred awoke to the thin winter sun streaming in through the windows, just enough to make Roald’s fair hair and beard glint in the light. Gingerly, so as not to wake Roald, Fred propped himself up on an elbow so he could admire the Norwegian’s face, relaxed in sleep. Roald tended to sleep perfectly flat on his back with his hands folded over his stomach - orderly even while unconscious - giving Fred a lovely view. As he gazed down at Roald he still felt floaty and warm from last night, even more so when he realized that he had fallen asleep wearing the penguin socks Roald had kept for him all those years. Quickly, though, Fred decided to carefully strip them off. Roald warming his feet had been a thoughtful piece of aftercare at the end of a very pleasurable evening, but there was no way that Frederick Albert Cook was going to be caught in the light of day naked except for a pair of socks.

Reaching under the covers to remove the socks jostled the blankets, though, and by the time Fred was done pulling them off, Roald was stirring and blinking his eyes. He shifted so that he was sitting halfway up, propped on both elbows. “Good morning, Fred,” he said, with a mischievous little smile. “I take it you’ve made a full recovery after your ordeal on the mountain?” He leaned over the side of the bed and retrieved the cup of water from the night before, took a swig, and passed it to Fred.

Fred couldn’t help it, he felt giddy remembering the events of the previous night. He took a drink, placed the cup on the shelf above the bed, and immediately dove face-first onto his boyfriend, plastering himself across Roald’s torso and burying his face in the crook of Roald’s neck. “I owe it all to the search and rescue team. He did such a good job.” He placed one kiss, then another, then another, along Roald’s collarbone.

One of Roald’s arms came around Fred, his lips pressed into Fred’s hair. “Well, you make a very fetching rescue victim, Dr. Cook,” he murmured.

“Is that your professional opinion?” Fred mumbled against Roald’s skin. He let his free hand, the one not mashed up against Roald’s side, wander as he continued to kiss Roald’s neck and shoulder, letting his fingertips slide over Roald’s abs, the sides of his ribs, the subtle dip above his hips. “Fuck, Roald, why are you so hot? It ought to be illegal.”

Roald chuckled against Fred’s hair. “I’m glad I’m not illegal. I wouldn’t want to encourage you.”

Fred huffed a laugh. “It’s way too late for that.” It was the sort of joke that, when he’d first arrived on Roald’s doorstep, on the run from the FBI and afraid of being arrested, would have made Fred anxious. But now it only made him grin. New York and his NFT exchange and his legal troubles felt as if they were in another galaxy. He was safe here, safe with Roald, and happier than he’d been in three years. He really ought to do something to show his gratitude.

“Mmm,” Fred hummed, his face still pressed against Roald’s skin. “How am I going to pay you back? I know how expensive search and rescue services are.” He let his hand skim over the sensitive skin just above Roald’s hips. He felt Roald move in response, though he kept his voice level as he responded.

“No need to pay me back. Besides, I don’t take bitcoin or ethereal.”

Fred barked out another laugh. “It’s ethereum, you ridiculous man.” Two jokes in one morning - Roald must be in an exceptionally good mood. Well then.

Roald shifted on the mattress. “Besides, I was just helping a fellow climber. It’s what anyone should have done.”

“Hmmm, yes, well,” Fred continued, dipping his hand lower. “How about a gesture of thanks, then, for getting me off that mountain?” He brushed his fingertips ever so slightly over Roald’s cock. It was a brief movement, but enough to get Roald squirming, the arm he had wrapped over Fred’s back tightening.

“Fred,” he responded. “We really ought to get up.” He was trying valiantly to keep his voice steady, Fred could tell without even looking up, but his composure was starting to fray, just a little.

“What’s your rush, Roald?” Fred was gently stroking Roald’s stirring cock now with just the tips of his fingers. “We have enough wood for the stove, we have food in the cabin…” He pressed his lips to the base of Roald’s neck and gave him an ever-so-tiny bite, which made Roald jolt as though he’d had an electric shock. “Surely we can stay here for a few minutes so I can show my appreciation.”

“Fred,” Roald moaned softly. He made a half-hearted effort to sit up further, to somehow extricate himself from the bed, but he didn’t move his arm from Fred’s back. “Fred, we really ought to…”

Fred tsked at him in response, his fingers still running lightly over Roald’s cock. He lifted his eyes to Roald’s and grinned wickedly. “Always attending to the schedule. Always so disciplined, Roald…I think-” Fred cut off. He stopped and gazed intently at Roald. Always so disciplined.

This was the man who, despite Fred’s entreaties to relax, kept to his daily routine at the cabin like clockwork, even though he’d already made sure the homestead was amply provisioned for years. The one who’d skied across the Hardangervidda Plateau in the dead of winter as a young man, sleeping out in the open to prepare himself for future expeditions. The one who, even as a teenager, had slept with his bedroom windows open in all weather to toughen himself up for a life as an explorer. Roald was a natural leader, liked to be in command, of that there could be no doubt. But buried several layers deep was a sliver of Roald that craved a little denial, a little punishment, sometimes from the natural world, and sometimes self-imposed. It could be read as a desire for self-mastery, to demonstrate one’s fortitude, but Fred had known Roald for years, and knew that it was as simple as a need, now and then, for some pain. Of course, Fred had indulged him eagerly over the years, knowing the things a little hurt could do to him. It could be as straightforward as the birch switches they used in the sauna, or…

Fred had an idea.

He removed his hand from where it had been wandering under the blankets, scooted up on his knees, and arranged himself so that he was straddling Roald’s chest. The movement pushed the blankets back, and the cooler air of the cabin made Fred shiver, but he didn’t take his eyes away from Roald’s. He let his vision rake over Roald’s face, his neck, his chest. The Norwegian gazed back at him, eyes narrowed just a bit, knowing Fred well enough to know that something was afoot.

“Fred,” he began, voice low. “What are you doing?”

Roald might have been able to haul grown men off the side of a high mountain while suffering from hypoxia himself - Fred had seen him do it - but it was Fred who had the medical degree. He smirked as he wondered how his professors would have reacted if they knew how he was about to put their knowledge to use.

“Roald,” he began slowly, lowering his eyes just a little, letting his right hand stroke over Roald’s chest.

Roald sat up further, against the pillows, until his back was almost straight, and Fred was now straddling Roald’s lap. Roald’s cock was now tantalizingly right in front of Fred’s thigh. “Fred?,” he asked again. Roald continued to eye Fred quizzically, but didn’t make to move any further.

Fred flashed Roald a sly grin. His hand continued to stroke the smooth planes of Roald’s chest. “Roald, you know I’ve been impressed by your high altitude skills for years. You’re so strong, so brave, you’d rush to save anyone in trouble without a second thought. But I worry sometimes. Do you know exactly what you’re getting into? Things are dangerous in the death zone.”

Roald cocked his head a bit, as if he were about to reprimand Fred for throwing his survival skills into question, but then Fred brought his hand up from Roald’s chest to his neck. Slowly, he placed his palm over the side of Roald’s neck, so that his thumb landed an inch or so below Roald’s ear. He pressed ever so gently, letting the muscle memory guide his thumb and fingers to the places where the right artery ran under the skin. He could feel Roald’s pulse beating steadily. Under his hand, Roald swallowed.

“Roald,” he said. “Serious question now. Do you…”

“Yes,” came the immediate reply. Fred watched as Roald drew in a breath, his eyes already a little hazy, his chest beginning to rise and fall ever so slightly faster.

“Yes?”

“Yes. Green.” He swallowed again. “Please,” he added, a little desperate-sounding.

Fred nodded. “Yes. OK.” He took a steadying breath himself. They’d done this before, a handful of times, but it had been a while, and Fred needed to focus if he was going to get this right. Later, he’d have time to revel in this amazing show of trust, the heady feeling of Roald’s complete faith in him to do this right and make it good for both of them. But for now, he only took one more breath, before drawing his left hand up. He gently placed three fingertips against Roald’s lips.

“Everyone reacts to altitude differently. Some people can feel it at only ten thousand feet. But once you get really high, there’s no question you’ll be affected. It’s best to be prepared.” Roald understood and opened his mouth, drawing Fred’s left fingers in and sucking hard, his eyes falling shut. Fuck, Fred could feel his own body responding, his cock twitching and a delicious warmth curling through his limbs, but he forced himself to focus. Reluctantly, he drew his fingers out of Roald’s hot mouth and brought his hand down to wrap around Roald’s cock, stroking hard and slow. Roald moaned, his eyes drifting open again, and Fred continued.

“Do you know what happens above twenty thousand feet, Roald?” he purred. God, something about this man made it impossible for Fred to stop running his mouth, even if it was to deliver a medical lecture, albeit an extremely grimey one. With his left hand still gripping Roald’s cock, Fred began to pulse his right hand against Roald’s neck, not too hard, just pressing down a little for a few seconds, then releasing. “There’s not enough oxygen to breathe. If you don’t bring any bottled oxygen with you, then…” He trailed off, but gave a harder press to Roald’s neck at the same time that he tugged roughly on his cock. Roald let out a gasping breath, his ice-blue eyes watering a little. Fred couldn’t help but smile as he picked up his rhythm again, stroking with his left hand and squeezing and releasing with his right.

“Not getting enough oxygen is very serious. You know, the first Europeans who went climbing at high altitudes didn’t know what was happening to them. They knew something was happening to their minds, to their bodies, but they didn’t know what was causing it. They were…helpless.” Fred punctuated the last word with another hard press against Roald’s neck, another tug on his cock. Roald responded with a beautiful gasp, his back arching, eyes wide. “Fred,” he managed in a raspy whisper, and Fred couldn’t help but smirk. Roald was panting now, his hands tangling in the blankets.

“Of course, you can acclimatize. You can spend time at higher elevations, then go back down. Keep doing this for days, weeks, and your body might get used to thinner air. But there’s only so much it will help. Eventually, it will catch up with you.” He punctuated this point with another harder press against Roald’s neck, and was rewarded with another strangled gasp and the feeling of Roald’s cock dripping all over Fred’s left hand. He could feel Roald’s pulse speed up under his fingers.

“Once you’re in the death zone, that’s it. You start to move slowly. Your mind gets fuzzy. You do things, well, things that you might not normally do.” He leaned forward and, not breaking rhythm, gave Roald a biting kiss at the base of the other side of his neck, sucking hard until he was sure he’d left a bruise. Roald moaned, the sound coming out harshly through Fred’s grip on his throat, and Fred felt like he might explode. He inhaled, trying to keep himself together, just long enough to take Roald over the edge.

“It’s harder to catch your breath,” Fred ground out. Roald was panting hard now as Fred pressed more intently against his throat, letting his palm and fingers squeeze for longer before releasing them. “You feel dizzy, lightheaded. You can’t think, and you might make mistakes.” He leaned over and bit Roald again, this time on his shoulder, and Roald’s legs jerked as he let out another moan, the sound rocketing through Fred’s whole body. Roald’s eyes were truly running now, and his face was flushed pink from the effort of trying to breathe. His hands sputtered at his slides, scrabbling for purchase on Fred’s thighs and hips. He looked wrecked. He looked magnificent.

“But you love it, don’t you?,” Fred cooed. He brought his lips close to Roald’s ear, trying desperately not to break his rhythm when he could barely keep himself together, his own cock crying out for attention. “You love the feeling of being out of control,” he whispered against Roald’s ear. “You want it. Everyone thinks you want to be in charge. But I know you’re really just a slut for pain.” He nipped at Roald’s ear and was rewarded with another gasping moan.

Fred sped up his hand on Roald’s cock, gripping him hard. He pressed his fingers deeper into Roald’s neck, holding them there for longer, relishing the choked noises that escaped Roald’s mouth and the rapid fluttering of his pulse. Not long now, Fred knew. He wished somehow he had three hands, for what he wanted to do next, or even four, so he could keep stroking Roald and maybe finger his ass at the same time. Instead, Fred removed his left hand from Roald’s body and shifted forward so that he could grind his thigh and his own hard, leaking cock against Roald’s, trying to keep as much friction as possible. Then he placed his free hand on the left side of Roald’s neck, matching the placement of his other hand, and pressed down with both hands together. Hard.

Roald came with a loud, stuttering breath, as if he was truly scrambling for air like his life depended on it. Fred wanted to sear that noise into the bedrock of his brain. Roald’s eyes were wide, streaming tears down his cheeks, and his face and chest were a vivid pink as he shook and gasped. He spilled all over Fred’s cock and thighs and stomach, hot and fast. Fred released both hands from his neck, and immediately fisted his own hard, neglected cock. It took only three strokes and he was coming too, spending all over Roald as the Norwegian continued to pant, catching his breath. Fred barely had time to come back to earth, head spinning and his body tingling, before Roald grabbed him around the waist and pulled him close for a bruising, demanding kiss, tangling his fingers in Fred’s hair.

“Thank you,” Roald breathed out against Fred’s mouth, before diving back in for another kiss. A contented “mmm” escaped Fred’s mouth involuntarily, and he kissed Roald back fiercely.

Eventually, when they were starting to get too sticky for comfort, Fred pulled away, just long enough to reach up to the shelf above the bed and grab one of the cloths they’d started keeping there, and began attempting to clean them both up, though Roald made a tiny pout at the interruption and so Fred began kissing him again while trying to maneuver the cloth with one hand. It made things a lot less effective but much, much better.

“Now Roald,” Fred said between kisses, “I don’t want to hear any talk of getting up to start our chores or to wash up.” With his free hand he gently pushed Roald down against the mattress and the waylaid pillows, until he was almost flat on his back. “Stay right there.” He flung the cloth off of the bed and flopped down across Roald’s body, laying his head on Roald’s chest and settling in with a contented sigh. “You know the best way to combat altitude sickness is staying at a lower altitude. Trust me. I’m a doctor.”

Re: FILL: "Where No One Would Believe that Someone Could F..." Cook/Amundsen, E, Part 13/? choking/b

(Anonymous) 2023-04-03 11:50 pm (UTC)(link)
ARRHEHERHRHEHRGGGGHHH thank you, truly.

also im dying at roald sleeping like a fucking vampire.
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