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“I’m glad you want our son in your life, but I’m going to be part of his too regardless if you like it or not.”
Your words shot through Kobolt’s brain like an arrow. The gears in his head coming to a stop as he mulls your words over.
Surely, you couldn’t mean it.
Humans usually only seek monsters out for game, coin or pleasure and that’s it. Considering you seeked out a monsters pleasure just mere months ago, it wasn’t a far stretch to assume you’d want to dump the baby and move on with your life too.
But as Kobolt looks into your watery eyes and trembling lips, there’s no denying your every intention to follow the role of a proper mother. It’s just the reality is, humans are selfish, and the moment life becomes inconvenient or distasteful, there’s no doubt in Kobolts mind that you will leave.
Humans are extremely emotional and are a slave to them. He’ll need to navigate this carefully as to not send you running back home, out of his domain, with his son.
So let it be, Kobolt will play nice. But he’s not holding his breath for you to stay.
“Understood.” He says, now holding his hand out for you, “Come with me human.”
“My name is Y/n.”
“Right…” he says back awkwardly, until just then, he didn’t even know your name.
“Where are we going?” You ask, whipping away the tears.
“To the healers, they will assess your condition.”
“But I am fine.”
“You announced your pregnancy to a goblin king— I cannot claim my son without the healers.” He says and the careful wording spiked your nerves like a warning.
“You mean, you want to check if the baby is even yours.” You say, ripping your hand from his grasp.
“Let me be honest with you.” He says turning on the spot. “You let me into your room, for pleasure—“
“Yes, but—“
“So it’s not unreasonable to assume you let others in.” That landed like a slap to the face. “I’m a goblin, and a goblin king at that— it’s no secret we look after our own, human women have tricked goblins in the past to look after them all until the baby is delivered and lo and behold the baby is not even a goblin.” He says, his eyes piercing into you as if to capture the lie ahead of time. “You want me to look after you? Spend every resource I have to give our son a good life? Then the least you can do is have the healers confirm the baby is indeed mine.” He says, teeth gritted. You’re tempted to smack him across the face for every nasty implication he made without hesitation. But he turns abruptly dragging you behind him once again.
What happened to the goblin that looked down at you like you were precious just weeks before? Where was the goblin from two seconds ago that was stuttering with confusion and cradling your face with comfort? How did he just switch back to this unpleasant personality?
“Kobolt.” You whisper out as he continues to guide you through the hall.
“What?”
“You’re in shock. I arrived out of the blue and dropped life alternating news.”
“You did—“
“So I’ll forgive you this time for speaking to me the way you did. But mark my words, you will not speak to me like that again.” You say, your eyes steady. The tone of your voice sensing a shock up Kobolt’s spine, the kind where your instincts are telling you’re in danger.
“Understood. Forgive me.” He says, and you nod, tilting your chin up high.
Summary: Tari begs her best friend to sleep with her husband so she can break the marriage contract.
Warning: Taboo's and Sexual themes are contained within this short.
A/n: Readers body is described to be like the average human woman. The words squishy, fleshy and large breasts are used.
It's times like these when you really enjoy life. Sitting in the backyard with your best friend Tara, and watching the wild flowers flutter and wave in the wind. You couldn't help but grin in contentment as you hold your tea cup to your lips, the delicate floral aroma only enticing you to wash away the hot buttery jam scone you just ate.
To your utter dismay, your tea begins to sour in your mouth at Tari's unexpected admission. “My husbands’ eyes are wandering.” She admits making you choke on your tea. You quickly place your saucer and cup down, shooting your hand out to grab Tari’s whose fingers are tapping nervously at the table.
“Oh god Tari- I’m so sorry to hear that.” She sigh and shrugs her shoulders.
“I knew it would happen one day- after all, it was an arranged marriage.” You still squeeze Tari’s hands in solidarity.
“Arrange marriage or not... this is terrible.” Your face drops, unable to imagine the pain your friend must be going through.
“Terrible? This is great news!” Your brows shoot up at Tari’s sudden delighted shift in mood. “Honestly I thought he would never stray, I thought it might take years before he lost interest in me! And not a moment too soon either.” You lean back into your chair, you mouth remaining a gape whilst your brows furrow in confusion.
“Huh?” You ask, head tilting to the side, unable to grasp the situation playing at hand.
“Okay- so in Orc culture when you have an arranged marriage it’s pretty much a done deal. You’re forced to stay a virgin for your husband and be committed to him til the day he dies BUT,” Your eyes dart around Tari’s face as she rampantly explanation of her Orcish culture, your brain peddling hard to keep up with her speech. “If your husband strays from your bed then our marriage contract ends!” She cheers excitedly.
“Oh… so … congratulations?” You mutter, unsure that was the right response.
“I’m glad you feel that way bestie because I have a HUGE favour to ask you…” Tari gets on her knees in front of you, looking up into your face.
Oh no.
Tari pulls out her biggest shiniest puppy dog as she begs you with the deepest sincerity. “Can you please sleep with my husband?” She begs, her desperation leaking ever so obviously from her aura.
“God Tari no! I couldn’t ever do that to you!” You say, edging back in disgust at the thought of betraying your friend.
“But that’s the thing Y/n! It’s for me please!” She begs again, but you’ve just about had enough. “Please Y/n! I know he’s huge and ugly and you’re a tiny pretty human- but it will only need to happen once! When he breaks his marriage vow I’ll be free! Your the only one that can do it- he has a human fetish and your human!” She begs again, grabbing you by the waist. “Please I’ll - I’ll give you all the money I have! I’ll become your slave! Please I’ll do anything!” She begs which has you frowning.
“Tari.” You say, kneeling down to her level. “You’re really that unhappy?” She nods erratically.
“I never wanted this… if you sleep with him, then I can finally escape and have my freedom again, I could travel, spend my money how I want and sleep with whoever I want, the marriage essentially become void.”
You look up at Tari understanding her point of view.
It feels wrong, but it’s what a good friend would do.
“Fine- I’ll sleep with your husband.” Tari squeals in delight, tackling you into a bear hug as she spins relentlessly in celebration at the prospect’s of her new found freedom and all because of your noble sacrifice.
Ironically, unlike Tari, you actually found her husband quite attractive. Tari just thought Ri looked so odd for an Orc.
Tari came from the Ea-an clan, which are orcs with green-skin, black or brown hair, black tattoos and gold jewellery.
Where-as her husband Ri came from the Nesian clan, far in the south. They typically have grey-blue skin, white tattoos, white or black hair and silver jewellery.
Ri was the first Nesian you’ve ever seen before which just further added to the aw and ethereal nature. Since they’re so far in the South, most people go their whole lives never seeing one.
Ignoring how Ri looks, the way he carries himself is just so attractive.
He always has his long white hair re-braided every week. You’ve often spotted Ri walking around shirtless around the Orc village, his battle scars and white tattoo being shown off for all its glory. Whenever someone gets drunk and mouthy in your bar, Ri was always there to set them in their place.
You already had reservations about your arrangement with Tari, tricking someone into sleeping with you feels terribly tacky, but now that you’re sitting across from her as she’s giving you a knowing smile all whilst Ri whips you both drinks up in their shared home, your resolve immediately crumbles.
“Holy shit Tari- I can’t do this!” You panic, looking off to the exit.
“Huh-why?! What’s wrong- tell me.” Tari panics as you try to back track your agreement.
“I don’t know how to flirt with your husband- what if he brushes me off?”
“He won’t!” Tari reassures, grabbing your hand to stop you from flailing.
“I’m just some boring human- look at Ri- he wouldn’t find me attractive! I’m just going to make a fool of myself!” Tari’s mouth widens in shock.
“You don’t seriously think you look boring do you?!” You shrug, in uncertainty. You don’t look ugly but you don’t look interesting and impressive like Ri or Tara.
“I’m not an Orc, of course he won’t find me attractive.”
“You don’t look like an Orc which is exactly why you are attractive. It’s erotic to sleep with someone outside our race.” Tari’s reassures but it hardly helped settle your nerves.
“What’re you two discussing?” Ri asks, setting the drinks down.
You couldn’t have snatched yours faster if you tried.
“Y/n was just admitting to me she thinks she’s unattractive.” You stare daggers back at Tari.
“That’s ridiculous- you’re human.” He says as if that statement made an obvious impact.
“Thats what I said. I think any Orc would be thanking the gods for gifting them such a pretty little human to ride their huge cocks. I don’t know a single Orc that hasn’t wished for this.” Tari states a bit forcefully. “Don’t you agree?” Ri’s jaw seems to stiffen a bit but nods in agreement.
“That’s ridiculous. How are humans attractive to male Orcs? We have all the same parts as female Orcs.” You question which makes Tari throw her head back in thunderous laughter.
“Do you not have ears? It's erotic for us Orcs to sleep with a creature that isn't our own kind- the taboo makes the chase more exciting.” She answers whipping a tear off the corner of her eyes. “You human girls are so tiny and tight. I’ve heard stories of your kind becoming drooling limp moaning messes- begging for more huge Orc cocks whilst they still ride orc cock so enthusiastically. I’ve even heard that humans have ridiculously libidos.”
Ri snorts at Tari’s final fact. “I think the libidos thing is just make believe.” But you shake your head.
“Sex drives vary person to person, but Tari is right, having a high libido is typical for humans, it’s part of our drive to procreate.” You say meekly much to the shock of Ri.
“So you human girls don’t just cum once, and feel satisfied to stop?” Your cheeks grow warm from the pure shock and aw growing on Ri’s face.
“Um- well-“
“Don’t be shy Y/n, we’re all friends here.” Tari eggs you on with a calculated grin to follow.
“Okay, well. In honest truth when I take care of my own orgasms, I can go multiple times. With sex, I usually would like to cum more than 2 times, but most human man can’t handle it.” You say shyly, seeing Ri become more engrossed in your sexual endeavours.
“So it’s true,..” He says in surprise, leaning back.
“That’s not all.” Tari continues, “Orcs are just so muscular, like stones but human girls are usually so squishy, like Y/n for example. If I poke her arm, it doesn’t feel like rocks. Go on touch her!” Tari encourages but Ri looks uncertain.
“It’s okay Ri, I don’t mind.“ Taking his hand and placing it on your arm.
“You’re right- I had no idea humans were so soft.” Ri begins to squeeze your arm excitedly, watching your arm flesh move around instead of resisting movement. You begin to giggle at Ri’s amazed reaction.
“I had no idea that being fleshy was so nuanced, surely female orcs are squishy.” You giggle as Ri grabs your other arm to see if it will squish too.
“We aren’t - even our breast are muscular.” You raise a brow to this, surprise you hadn’t noticed, but now that Tari’s pointed it out, Tari hadn’t any bounce to it.
You look at Ri from the corner of your eyes and see his eyes fixated on your chest, as if imaging your fleshy arms feel similar to your breasts. “You can touch them if you want Ri.” You offer, sticking your chest out just a little more, but Ri looks like he’s talking himself out of it. Knowing that groping his wife’s best friend is out of the question.
“Go on Ri- I’ve touched them before, it’s so squishy.” Tari taunts. Immediately Ri doesn’t wait for another second his hands grabbing your chest harshly, the action sends ripples of nerves shooting down the pit of your stomach.
“C-careful, mine are sensitive.” You say hesitantly, Ri nods and begins to nead them softly. You feel the need in your stomach stirring.
You look over at Tari who looks like she won the lottery. “Ri- if Y/n’s comfortable with it, you should explore her human body.” Ri seems shocked at Tari’s offer, his eyes bulging in shock. “Most human women find us Orcs repulsive- but Y/n’s a friend, you don’t mind letting my husband explore your body right?” She smiles poisonously as you nod in agreement. “Whelp- I’ll leave you too it- I’m pretty tired.” Tari releases the fakest yawn you’ve ever heard. But Ri doesn’t seem to notice, he’s too engrossed in contemplation in crossing social boundaries.
“I had no idea human women felt so different to Orc women.” Ri nodded in agreement.
“It makes me wonder if all those fantastical stories are true but I would never want you to feel pressured.” He says vaguely which triggers your intrigue. His hands hesitantly pull away, but your hands grab his.
“I really don’t mind if you want to explore my body Ri- after all, I’m curious if all the stories from humans are true. If Orc tongue and cock is as good as they say it is.” You can see something animalistic shift beneath the surface. A line that Ri was resisting to cross was dashed and you were a little frightened at the Pandora’s box you just opened.
“I knew Tari was a manipulative witch, but I had no idea her sweet little human friend could be too.” His voice rumbles with a hiss as he drags you onto his lap. “I would never break a marriage contract, but if Tari is going to offer her pretty human as bait - then I’ll definitely bite.” You shrink back nervously at the sudden change in personality but you can’t hold back the shuttering as Ri drags your core along his muscular thigh eliciting a pleasurable sound to pour from your lips. “I was just being a good husband. Keeping my hands to myself,” your eyes go a bit glossy, becoming unfocused at the teasing waves of pleasure building up from riding Ri’s thick thigh. His hold on your hips now loosened as you took your own initiative to drag your weepy cunt along his leg like a damn mut in heat. “I’ve even fisted my own cock to the thought of you. All to resist devouring you whenever your around, leaving your delicious scent on every surface and wearing those pretty little clothes.” You repositioned yourself to grind down on his lap, your eyes glazing over in pleasure as you continue to grind down into his lap. Ri grabs your chin, forcing you to look up into his eyes. “But if my own wife is going to toss her friend cunt first into my lap, then I won’t say no.” He grumbles tearing your top right off, watching your squishy breasts spill out.
Of course Ri could see through your charade- this isn’t a porno, it’s real fucking life. He could see you two working so hard to seduce him and it was honestly cute to see you try so hard because you seriously didn’t have to.
Cowboy werewolf letting you ride them, their jeans still on just pushed down far enough that you can get their cock out, their hat tipped back so they can look at the pretty thing in their lap. They smoke their cigarette lazily, blowing smoke in your face and occasionally telling you you're doing a good job until they get close and pin you down so they can rut into you properly and knot you.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Summary: you and your orc co-worker are affected by sex pollen.
Warnings: MINORS DON'T INTERACT, 18+, sex pollen, affected to pollen and subtle reluctance, size kink, overstimulation, fingering, big leaking orc🍆.
Part 2 here. 🩷 This is a completed 3-Part series that was once exclusive on Patreοn! Have fun reading.
The sun was setting over the dense forest, spreading shadows across the clearing that you and your orc coworker, Grom, had been exploring. He worked for you in the village, helping you in the business you owned, a shop that offered spices, herbs, and other medicines. You had headed out to harvest herbs during the day, like you had done numerous times before.
Only at that time had you ventured into an area of the forest that you had not previously explored. You wanted to study some uncommon flora, and despite your reservations, Grom had followed, insisting that you not go into untouched areas of the forest alone.
He was such a sweetheart. But you didn’t dare tell him that or show your attraction to him.
Truth be told, you'd always been drawn to him, ever since he walked into your shop and asked for a job. Everyone warned you against it, but something about his dark gaze and velvety voice swayed you. And why should you hire him? Humans and orcs finally coexisted; after years of war and conflict, both races had begun to accept each other. You saw no reason not to try to accept that concept and support them.
He had since become your trusted assistant and a great coworker to have around. He gladly learned from you, and despite the initial terror he instilled in the customers when he first started working, he was now relaxed. Everyone had accepted him, swayed by your kindness and generosity to him. Grom was tall and muscular, his muscles were prominent even under his clothes. His look was slightly rough, with a rugged and scarred face and large tusks protruding from his mouth. However, he was friendly and truly engaged in his work.
He was precious and you’d never risk ruining the balance of your relationship because of your romantic feelings for him.
You smiled to yourself and returned your attention to the forest, exploring the flora and listening to the birds' songs. You bent here and there, touching plants, rooting out herbs, and carefully placing them in your basket. A weird violet plant drew your attention. It was gorgeous. Bright, pure purple with white dots and a rich, sweet aroma that floated to your nostrils.
He joined you with a grumble, and at that moment, a burst of pollen exploded from the plant’s petals, creating a thick cloud that surrounded you both. You coughed and waved your hands in the air to dispel the thick pollen. Grom cursed out and grabbed your elbow, dragging you as far away as he could from the plant. His hold was powerful, his face set in a grimace, his torso taut, muscles tight beneath his thick skin.
You hardly had time to act before you felt it—a peculiar sensation, like a thousand small sparks igniting across your skin.
"What… what’s happening?" You breathed as he cursed again, his big hands brushing the yellowish pollen off your clothes.
"I don’t know. Stay still," he rumbled, his voice deep and protective, though you could see the uncertainty in his eyes.
“That plant—” You bit back a whine because the tingling grew stronger. “I thought it was a simple flower, but—”
This time, you couldn't help but whimper. Your body felt unusually hot, goosebumps rising on your skin. You rubbed your thighs together, realizing you were soaked, your pussy tingling and gushing slick. Grom was also affected; although he had stepped away, you could hear his rapid breathing. He didn't look at you, but he was sweating, and his green cheeks were flushed. His fingers rubbed his face, as if trying to understand what was happening.
A deep, rumbling groan escaped him. "Feels… strange.” He clenched his fists. "Like fire under my skin."
You felt the same way, a fact that added to the heat that had now soaked your thighs. The tingling gradually gave way to a warm sensation that extended throughout your body. Your nipples felt tight, and heat spread in your chest before moving down, making you weak in the knees. Your breathing quickened, your skin became hypersensitive, and every contact of the air against you seemed like a caress.
You wanted to take off your clothes; the mere scratch of your clothes against your flesh filled you with aching need.
"Grom…" You tried to stand up to distract yourself from the heat, but you staggered. He caught you before you could fall, his large hands wrapping around you. You sighed at the pleasant sensation of his touch.
"Something's… wrong. I feel… hot. So hot.”
"I know." His voice was tight, like he was barely holding on. "I feel it too."
For quite some time, neither of you moved. His deep green eyes fixed on yours, full of the same uncertainty and yearning that you felt. The air between you was charged, your bodies infused with the weird power of pollen. He was still holding you, but there was more—something primitive boiling beneath the surface, something you both wanted to explore.
"We should… we should leave," he said, though his voice was a whisper.
You both nodded, but didn't move.
His breath came out in thick, labored pants, and you could see his eyes darken and rake over your body. His hands massaged your back slowly, causing your frame to melt into his. He growled low and menacingly, but you were not afraid. The warmth between you increased, and the tingling intensified, until every nerve in your body screamed for relief.
"This— ahh—this… is getting stronger." You gulped hard, your heart racing in your chest. "I think it's a sex pollen plant. They're so unusual and uncommon in book history—" you swallowed as another wave of warmth pulsed through your clit. "Its effects are overwhelming. The tension and need are unbearable."
“We must go back,” he said, his voice barely more than a growl. Still, he didn’t stop stroking your back.
"Can’t… ahhha—" you whined, feeling your body betraying you, leaning toward him. “‘M sorry—”
"Those sweet sounds you make," he murmured, his breath brushing against your neck. You closed your eyes, trembling at his warmth. Then he straightened up, releasing his grip on you and rising to his feet.
"We must leave,” he snapped. “Seek treatment.”
You chuckled. When it came to sex pollen, there was only one remedy: ride it out. And he knew it as well. You wanted to resist the pull of pollen. But you couldn't deny the heat and desire—the portion that wanted nothing more than to give in. To ask him to touch you and let you feel his strength surrounding you. Allow the sex pollen to take you both.
"Can you stand up?" he asked, his back to you.
Humming at him, you tried—struggled—to stand. You lost your balance when a sharp tinkling slammed against your clit, and fell down. The fall was gentle because his powerful arms had embraced you. You bit your lip to hide the delight at his touch, and opened your eyes to meet his ardent look. His face was now inches from yours, his pupils fully dilated, the warmth of his breath mingling with your own.
Damn… he was affected. Much more than you.
"If you can't move…" His grip tightened slightly, and you noticed a flare of green fire in his eyes. "Then we have to ride it out. Together."
"Yes. Please," you replied, your heart pumping in your chest. "Together."
Your fingers tightened into his arm, squeezing tightly as another wave of tingling warmth washed over you. It wasn't just warmth; it was fire, lighting up every inch of your body in ways you'd never experienced before. Every feeling was heightened, the air on your skin causing you to shudder with need.
“Grom…” your voice cracked, “I… I can’t… Please…” The word came out in a strained whisper, scarcely audible, but that was all you could manage. Your face flushed with embarrassment, but you couldn't stop the words from coming out.
"You don't understand," he grumbled. "I'm also affected, and it's too much. "I can't... I can't think. I can't stop it. My control is slipping, and I am afraid of..."
“Please, Grom… I need… I need you."
"I know, love," he said, his voice low and gravelly. "I can feel it, too. I can smell your arousal. You smell so good, little one."
You whimpered when you heard the endearment. He never called you sweet nicknames. He was always professional and serious, but oh, how you loved the sound of "my little one" on his lips. You wanted to hear him repeat it every day.
Body on fire, you grasped him, every inch of you crying for release. More liquid warmth gathered low in your belly, soaking your panties and trousers while your legs trembled.
A rumbling growl sounded in his chest. "Fuuuck, you smell amazing. You're sure?" he asked, his composure melting. "You have to be sure, little one. I do not want to hurt you. "I'm bigger, different than you."
You nodded frantically, your nails digging into his shoulders. “‘M sure,” you whimpered, trembling against him.
“You can take my orc cock?” he drawled, thoroughly enjoying you dripping and shivering all over.
“Hmm! Can and will take it. I need you… I can’t—oh gods, I can’t hold on anymore.”
Grom’s eyes flared at your words, his hands gripping your waist tighter as if trying to ground himself. His jaw tensed and he inhaled deeply through his nose, his massive chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. Finally, the last shred of his restraint snapped, and his eyes darkened with a brew of desire and resolve.
His large hands moved up to cup your face, pulling you in closer. “Then I’ll help you, my little one. I’ll make it right.”
His lips crashed down on yours with a hunger that matched your own. You moaned lewdly and hugged him, squeezing your sensitive breasts against his chest, sighing at the pleasurable friction. Careful not to hurt you with his tusks, his tongue slipped in your mouth, tasting you. Your tongue played with his, dancing in a come hither motion. The kiss was rough, needy, and moist, with his hands roaming your body, your hands tangling in his thick hair as you kissed him back with fervor.
The haze around you thickened, the warmth from the pollen seeping deeper into your bodies. You fit together like puzzle pieces, the electric spark between you growing stronger, the pollen amplifying every sensation tenfold.
Unable to withstand the layers of clothes separating you, you dragged off your clothes, impatiently tugging at them while keeping your mouths fused. He assisted, his hands ripping fabric apart until you were both naked, heated skin against heated skin. Grom groaned into your mouth, his hands roaming your body, kneading the soft flesh of your shoulders, your breasts, your soft belly and hips before sliding lower.
Sitting back on his haunches, he lifted you easily, pulling you to straddle his massive frame, your legs spreading on either side of his hard thighs. His chest was warm and solid against yours, his heartbeat thunderous, matching the wild rhythm of your own. His cock jutted up against your belly, huge and veined, leaking moisture.
You were struck at the differences in your physiques, even with him kneeling back and you riding him, you could barely reach his shoulders, and his cock was just as large and proportionate to his size, pulsating up your heaving breasts and dribbling pre-cum on your nipples. Enjoying the same sight, he cupped your asscheeks and pulled them apart, keeping his massive cock snuggled against your breasts.
You moaned when a thick finger brushed against your heat, tickling the aching that had developed since the pollen touched you. As he circled your pussy, you could hear his finger making obscene sounds, teasing your dripping folds and tracing your hole. He opened your outer labia and you gasped, your body arching under his touch, desperate for more.
“Gods,” he growled, thrusting his finger past the resistance of your body. “Fuuuck— so tight…You’re driving me wild, little one.”
“Please, Grom,” you begged again, wiggling your waist to urge him to pump that blessed finger that stayed deep in your depths. “I need you now.”
He chuckled and curled his finger inside you. “Patience, sweetheart. You are so little. Your pussy can’t take me yet.”
“I can! I can’t take you, always wanted to—” you stopped, realizing what you’d revealed.
“You always wanted me to fuck you?” He filled your sentence as he fingered you slowly, gathering your wetness and spreading it all over your cunt and clit.
You swallowed hard. “Hmm… always wanted you. I always feel so attracted to you.”
“Oh, sweetheart…” he moaned, kissing you sloppily. “I’ve wanted you every day. Wanted to rip your clothes apart, lick you from head to toe and thrust my dick in that sweet-scented pussy of yours. I’ll fuck you today— more than once, and you’ll be mine,” he whispered, his voice rough but tender. “Mine. My mate.”
You nodded, your breath hitching when he added a second finger inside you. “I’m yours,” you whispered back, your voice trembling with need. “Please… make me feel whole again.”
With that, the world around you vanished, leaving nothing but immense pleasure that surged up your body and burst forth in a fine explosion. You rode his fingers, kissed him, and held him for dear life. You could hear your loud moans, his rough groans as he finger-fucked you, and the lewd sounds you made with all the juices pouring down your thighs. It was heaven—no, it felt better than heaven. And all you wanted to do was lose yourself in it and let him transport you both into a world of pure, unmistakable yearning.
Did you like? The next part is going to be sizzling steamyyyyy! Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. ❤︎
Summary: You seek out Kobolt, to deliver the news of your pregnancy.
Series Masterlist
Part 3
You couldn’t get that night out of your head.
A night filled with moaning and mind-numbing pleasure, leaving you with a gift of new life. He wasn’t someone you were meant to touch— not by societies standards anyway. Monsters and humans are not accepted, and in most cases, they’re annihilated by the local villages and towns.
Staying here wasn’t an option, as far as you are from society, there is always that risk of being caught with your son, a demi-human.
And what about giving birth? It’s not exactly like the mid-wives would help deliver and care for your baby.
You laid in bed, your hand resting absently on your still-flat stomach, all whilst starring at that window, that started it all. Mulling over the words the witch spoke. Whispering apologies to your baby, reassuring him that you’ll find a way.
You always did.
“Please don’t worry— I won’t abandon you.” You promise, you will raise him and love him, even if he is a Demi-human.
Regardless of your looming anxiety, a sense of safety is felt, with the witches comforting words. Reminding you that goblins are family orientated. Kobolt will look after your son.
So here you are, standing before two weary guards as you state your intentions.
“I’m here to see Kobolt Konstantin.” You say bravely to the two guards standing at entrance to the Terra Caves.
They both eye you with their scrutinising gaze. As if your appearance would unravel the truth.
“Fat chance.” The shorter bulky guard spits with a vicious bite, his deep chuckle mocking you. “If any pretty human came, batting her lashes and demanding to see the goblin king, we wouldn’t —“ But the grating goblins speech comes to an crashing halt when a gust of wind blows past you. His eyes widening to the size of saurcers with a shock.
You look towards the other guard, only to see him also staring at you with a mouth agape.
“Um…. Are you two okay?” You ask, only for the shorter guard who was previously raining insults, to grab your wrist and quickly pulling you into the dark cave as you stumble behind him. “Where are you taking me?!” You asked in a slight panic as you quickly become disorientated in the dark maze like halls.
“The strategy room to see the goblin king.” The guard answers only making your heart begin to race.
“What?! I don’t want to see the goblin king!” You say, pulling your wrist out of his grasp only for him to tighten his hold on you.
“You said, you wanted to see Kobolt Konstantin— didn’t ya?” He asks angrily.
“Yes I do.”
“The goblin king is Kobolt Konstantin!” The guard barks, pulling you right behind him once again until the hallway opens up into what you can only describe as a massive room with impossibly high ceilings, detailed carvings in the walls, and at the centre of it all was Kobolt, standing with great confidence, at the head of a grand table with ten other goblins listening attentively; his bravado like smile falters as you capture his gaze.
You didn’t expect to be greeted with grandeur and cheer. But the cowardly part of you wanted to run back home as Kobolt rounded the table, eyes locked on you with an expression you can only describe as something angry as he advanced closer.
“Human — you can’t be here.” He says to you.
Suddenly you’re feeling a rush of humiliating emotions. Angry to have been greeted so poorly, annoyed he called you ‘human’ with such venom as if he didn’t thrust into you with praise meer weeks prior and upset he announced your unwanted presence so loudly.
“Right you are.” You say back angrily, turning around to leave through the maze like halls, not caring or thinking about getting lost, when yet another gust of wind vents through the cave halls and disperses through the open floor.
“You’re — you’re pregnant.” He says quietly.
You don’t even need to look over your shoulder to see the shock on his face— his tone showed it all.
Not caring to stand there another second, you venture back into the dark winding hallway. Determined to find your way back out and home.
If Kobolt won’t help— then you’ll just do it by yourself.
You’ll find a way.
You always did.
Never relying on others.
“H-hang on a second!” Kobolt calls out, running back through the cave halls, chasing after your retreating figure, your back remaining turned to him as you storm the halls. “Y-y-your pregnant— how did that happen?” He asks, as if he wasn’t there.
“We had sex— how else would it have happened?” You snapped back viciously.
“I know that!” He bites back, “I mean— the contraceptives always work so—“
“I didn’t take any!” You yell back, continuing to storm through the halls, unsuccessfully finding you way back, but Kobolt was too busy reeling behind you.
“What do you mean you didn’t take any?! Monsters a highly fertile— you must—“
“Well I didn’t know that!” You yell back— becoming increasingly frustrated, unable to find the exit.
“You have to take contraceptions with human men— what made you think goblins were different?” He questions, which grates on your nerves.
“Well I didn’t know that either!” Because you didn’t. Sex education is highly taboo in the human world.
“How do you not know that?! So it’s just dumb luck you haven’t gotten pregnant until now.” He states which makes you want to scream.
“Okay— so what— it’s happened now, if you don’t want to be there, I’ll do it myself!” You yell, speeding up faster, away from Kobolt.
“I-I never said I didn’t— where are you going?” He says, speeding up behind you.
“Out and away from you! I just came here to tell you that we have a son together, and all you’ve done is insult my intelligence!” You began to cry, your pregnancy hormones ramping up your emotions by tenfold.
“Okay, okay, just stop for a minute would you.” He says tugging you back to look at him through glassy tears. He reaches up and whispers his apologies. “I’m sorry,” He says, cradling your cheeks and whipping away the tears.
For a moment your heart jumps. Being comforted by a goblin that only comes up to your shoulders.
“I’m scared.” You whisper back, but Kobolt continues to stroke your cheeks in comfort as thick blobs of tears fall down your face.
“I know, I know.” He says back, his steady presence already filling you with confidence… until he spoke again. “I’ll look after you so well, and once you give birth you can go back to your life and never look back again.” He says, his tone holding that steady cadence as if he didn’t say the most horrifying thing you’ve ever heard.
“What?!” You almost screeched, pulling away from Kobolt. “I-I don’t want to be kept away from my son!”
You expected Kobolt to be stuttering apologises for misunderstanding you. But instead he just looks at you with this look of certainty, as if he has you all figured out.
“Trust me— you won’t want to stick around. You humans never do.” He says matter-of-factly. “It will be for the best anyway, I can raise him-“
“I could raise him too!” You snap, Kobolt brows begin to knot. “The witch said Goblins are family orientated… I thought, you would…” you swallow a sob. “Why don’t you want me there?” You ask, the pain in your voice carrying though. “I’m glad you want our son in your life, but I’m going to be part of his too regardless if you like it or not.”
Alien partner has no idea how humans work, especially when it comes to mating. He's been wondering about it for the longest time, or rather - perhaps a better approximation - ever since he met you. He didn't expect your immediate willingness to satisfy his curiosity, however, and now he finds himself standing above your naked form, sliding his long, knotted digits in and out of what seems to be your genitals. Hopefully.
While he is beyond enticed by all the new sensations, such as the sight of your flushed face and the peculiar soft whimpers rolling out of your mouth with each thrust, he is also equally petrified. Every time you squint your eyes in pleasure, he turns and scrolls through his little digital notebook, scanning the paragraphs in sheer panic. He's been following an online tutorial he found on copulation among the Homo sapiens. He can't possibly confess his utter lack of knowledge to you, so the learning process must be done discreetly.
Suddenly, your thighs squeeze themselves together and he nearly chokes out in fear. Good Cosmic Lord, did he somehow mess up? Was there a wrong button to be pressed? As your inner muscles contract against his fingers, he can only watch, speechless and nervous, with beads of cold sweat coating his otherworldly features. His frantic academic search eventually lands him on one particular line.
Ah. You were just coming. He sighs deeply and admires the clear liquid now adorning his claws.
"Are you alright? You seem kind of pale," you question between shaky breaths.
"Most certainly," the creature reassures you, reaching for your hips and dragging you to his groin. "Do you think you can handle a second round?"
After all, he didn't have the chance to properly enjoy himself. This time his focus will be entirely on you. Don't worry, he's figured it out...more or less.
Summary: experiencing illness you visit a witch where she diagnoses you
Series Masterlist
“Pregnant.” The bubbly witch announces, holding a crystal over your stomach as you lay flat on your back on top of the of the Wicca alter.
Your throat clenches at the unexpected news being delivered, your ears fading out to a dull ringing, your mind reeling at the news all whilst your eyes prick with tears that are quickly building— spilling over the creases like small buckets of water. Your hormonal mind escalating the shock to instant crying.
“Oh dear— I suppose it wasn’t planned then?” The sweet young witch asked, placing the crystals down and began patting your head in attempts to comfort you. “I know that this isn’t helpful now— but monsters are incredibly fertile, if you do not wish to get pregnant, you must involve a witch in your plans to help you mitigate this.” She says which only makes you cry harder, because, how the fuck were you meant to know that? It’s not like sex education is exactly encouraged for girls, let alone when it involves monsters. It’s such a taboo topic.
“H-how did you know? Did the crystal show its a goblin?” You ask with a quivering voice.
“Oh well….” The witch mutters, playing with her long mousy brown hair awkwardly. “You don’t need magic to tell that it’s a monster—otherwise you wouldn’t be crying this hard.” She says, stepping away to pour you a cup of tea.
What the hell were you meant to do? You had enough money from your inheritance to live for a few years independently in the woods, but not indefinitely. You’d figured you’ll seek a husband when you had to and not a moment sooner. But who the hell would want you if you had a goblins child?
There’s no way.
There’s no way you can keep the baby— you’ll live in poverty and starve to death and your child will be abandoned in a cruel world rejected by society only to also be starved and left in poverty…
The kindest thing would be to—
“It’s a boy.” The witch said suddenly, making your mind come to a crashing halt at you process her words. “Have you ever thought of any boy names? I always liked those human names, Fredrick, Alaric or Cassian.” The witch said, her bubbly voice making your tense mind ease up ever so slightly. “Aye, well you’re very lucky— goblins are very family orientated.” She says placing the teacup into your hands. “You and your baby boy will be well looked after, do not fret.” She says which only makes you cry harder.
“I-I d-don’t know who the f-father is.” You begin to sob again making the witches eyes bulge.
“Oh my— you’re a very progressive woman to have so many -“
“I’ve only slept with one goblin!” You snapped. This was so unfair, you only did it once. “I mean, I didn’t even ask his name. It was all in the heat of the moment— he didn’t even stay, took off immediately after we.” You couldn’t even finish your sentence.
The sympathetic, tight lipped smile coming from the witch has your mind spinning all over again. You continue to gasp between dabbing your eyes with a pink handkerchief that floated you way.
“I-I can’t have this child.” You say mournfully, the tone of sadness shocking you as you had not even realised how you objectively felt about this whole situation.
Without warning the witch reached forward, touching your belly, her eyes turning into blank white as her voice twists into a deep melodic trance.
“Kobolt Konstantin of Terra Caves.” She states before snapping back to reality.
You just stared at her, mouth agape, unsure of what she just did.
“The spirits tell me the father is Kobolt Konstantin of the Terra Caves.” She says again with her normal chipper attitude. “Be warned dear girl, when you seek Kobolt out— he will not be expecting your arrival.” She says, now squinting your way, as if scrutinising your appearance as she looks you from head to toe. “No, no, no, this is won’t do.” She said suddenly, jumping to her feet, ripping potions and herbs from her apothecary.
“What won’t do?” You ask, watching the witch scurry around her cottage.
“The leading lady must always be the most beautiful in the room and right now…” she says, her voice dwindling as she tries to curate the best response. “You just need a little extra…care.” She finishes. Now shoving her hoard into your hands.
“I-I can’t afford all this.”
“Consider it a gift from new life.” She says, placing a hand on top of you head, muttering otherworldly words with that vacant look in her eyes until she pulls away with a giddily clap of her hands. “A witches eternal blessings for glowing skin, silky hair and manicured nails!” She giggles again, admiring her handy work. “No off you go— seek out Kobolt, once you do, all will be well.”
i have no restraint so here i am, back with another request 💞 thinking of smth like this, you & your bf are going through a rough patch, he’s distant and you think he may break up with you soon despite you not having done anything wrong, so to salvation your relationship you book this trip, a quiet cottage getaway to reconnect with nature and all that jazz, hoping that maybe the alone time with your partner will revitalize the bonds you once had, anywho you forgot to check the reviews, the cottage is cute but totally haunted and a couple nights in the ghost residing has had enough of your stupid bf and decides he’d be better so he possesses him 👀 he tries to pretend to be the old bf but quickly loses the facade once he’s gotten in ur bed and can’t keep his cool, nsfw/fluff vibes?
(oml this got to be so long >.< so sorry! p.s. this is disgrace c:)
Possession
ghost x female reader
note: u make a lot of requests 😂
You couldn’t help but sigh as you stared out the window of the tiny cottage. The rolling hills beyond were beautiful, but they couldn’t quite match the sinking feeling in your chest. You had hoped—no, prayed—that this little getaway would fix things with your boyfriend. The last few weeks had been rough. The spark between you two had faded, and despite your best efforts, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was pulling away. The silence between you had grown so thick, you could cut it with a knife.
You had booked the cottage in a desperate attempt to save whatever was left. You had read about the quiet, peaceful charm of the place, how it was nestled in the woods away from the world, offering an ideal escape. No distractions. Just the two of you, and nature. It sounded like the perfect way to rekindle your bond.
But you hadn’t checked the reviews. You hadn’t even thought to.
And now, as you curled up on the couch in the flickering light of a fire that seemed a little too cold, you began to wonder if it was all worth it.
The cottage, though cute, felt… off. The air was thick, as if the space was holding its breath, and the whisper of footsteps in the hallway when no one was around only made you second-guess everything.
Your boyfriend, Alex, was upstairs. His presence felt as distant as ever, even though he sat just a room away. It was like he was physically here but mentally miles away. Your stomach twisted at the thought that maybe… just maybe… he was considering breaking up with you. But you hadn’t done anything wrong! Not on purpose, anyway.
You wrapped your arms around your knees, staring into the fire. Maybe things would change tomorrow. That’s what you kept telling yourself. You just needed time. Quiet. Space.
As if on cue, the air seemed to shift. A cold breeze brushed against your skin. It wasn’t the wind from outside—no, this was something else. The hairs on your neck stood on end, a chill sweeping over you that had nothing to do with the temperature.
You stood up, looking around the room, your breath catching in your throat. A soft creak echoed through the floorboards above you, and then—
His voice.
Alex was standing at the top of the stairs, looking down at you with a strange expression. His eyes were wide, but there was something different about him. Something… off. His usual coldness was replaced with something darker, more intense, yet oddly tender.
“Hey… you alright?” His voice sounded normal, but there was an underlying smoothness, a layer of something that didn’t sit right with you.
You frowned, getting to your feet. “Yeah… I’m fine. Just… thinking.”
There was a moment of silence before he slowly descended the stairs. He was still wearing the same clothes from earlier, but the way he moved felt different—like his body wasn’t quite his own. His gaze never left you as he stepped closer, the air growing thicker with tension.
“Come here,” he murmured, his voice lower than usual, but there was a softness to it that felt almost unnatural. “I missed you.”
Your heart fluttered with a combination of confusion and hope. This was the Alex you knew—or at least, you thought you did. The one who used to wrap you in his arms and make everything feel right.
You stepped toward him, hesitant. You could feel your pulse in your ears. Was this really him?
But when his hand reached out, you didn’t hesitate. His fingers closed around yours, a warm, possessive grip that felt right—and yet, wrong.
You let him pull you into his chest. He kissed you deeply, passionately—his lips pressing against yours with a need that made your body shiver in response. Your arms wrapped around his neck, holding him tighter as the kiss deepened, his tongue sweeping into your mouth like it was a claim.
“I’m sorry for being distant…” His lips were hot against your skin as he trailed kisses down your neck. “But I can’t stay away from you.”
It should’ve been comforting. But it wasn’t.
A chill crawled across your skin as you realized: he wasn’t right. Not completely. It was like he was trying to be your boyfriend, trying to mimic everything he’d once been, but the energy—his scent, the way he touched you, how he kissed you—felt off. His hands cupped your face with a tenderness you didn’t recognize, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks in a possessive, lingering motion.
“Please, let me make it up to you.” His voice dropped to a whisper, his breath hot against your ear. “I need you…”
Before you could even process what was happening, he pulled you to the couch, sitting down and pulling you onto his lap. His hands slid down your back, over the curve of your waist, to your hips, tugging at your clothes in an almost frantic way.
Your heart hammered as your body responded to his touch—maybe it was your desperation for him to feel real, to reconnect. You couldn’t help the way your body betrayed you, your hips grinding slightly against him, seeking that closeness, that heat.
“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his breath heavy as he kissed your throat. His hands ran up your sides, lightly squeezing your ribs. “You’re so beautiful… I don’t deserve you.”
The words seemed… too sweet. But you didn’t want to pull away—not when his hands roamed to your chest, gently cupping your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your nipples through your clothes. It felt good, too good, and you couldn’t stop the quiet moans escaping your lips.
He seemed to revel in them, a growl vibrating in his chest as he continued, his hands rougher now, his grip tighter. You could feel him hard against your thigh, the heat of him making your pulse spike.
“You’re mine, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “Tell me you’re mine.”
A shiver ran down your spine. “I’m yours,” you whispered, leaning into him.
And just as you said those words, something inside him snapped. He pulled you down onto the couch with urgency, his hands tugging at your clothes, and in the haze of lust and confusion, you let him. He needed you, and you needed him. But deep down, you knew—it wasn’t Alex anymore.
It was something else.
It wasn’t his eyes were filled adoration. Something Alex never associated with you. It hurt, sure but it was the truth.
“Who are you?”
The moment Alex’s lips left yours, a suffocating silence filled the room. You could feel the cool breeze in the air, the sharp contrast to the heat of his body pressed so closely to yours. His gaze flickered for just a second, a flicker of something that didn’t belong, and that’s when you realized—this wasn’t your boyfriend.
“Baby, I’m yours.”
The coldness of the air grew stronger as his hands roamed down your body. His grip was still familiar, but the touch was far more demanding. His fingers dug into your hips, pulling you closer, pushing your body flush against his. Your heart hammered in your chest as his breath grew heavier, his scent growing richer—something distinctly other mixed with the faint musk of your boyfriend’s cologne.
“You’re so beautiful,” the voice that wasn’t Alex’s whispered, hoarse and dripping with affection p.
Your breath caught as his lips traced the curve of your jaw, moving down to your neck. He kissed you like he had all the time in the world, taking his time to leave hot, wet marks on your skin, biting gently at the tender spots. His mouth was demanding, rough, but with the faintest hint of tenderness buried beneath the desperate hunger.
Every second felt like your skin was burning. Your body ached for him, but the rational part of you screamed that this wasn’t right. This wasn’t Alex. This wasn’t him.
But still… your body betrayed you, and your hips instinctively rocked against him, feeling the length of him hard and pressing against you. You gasped softly, and that seemed to be the trigger. His hands shot to your chest, pulling at your shirt with a sudden urgency that made you shiver.
“I’ve waited too long for you,” he growled. The words were laced with something darker now, something far more possessive. “Now… I’m not letting go.”
His fingers worked quickly, expertly, stripping you of your clothes as if he had done this a thousand times before. The moment your shirt was gone, his lips were on your skin again, kissing a trail down your chest until he reached your breasts. He cupped them with reverence, massaging them with just the right pressure as he lavished attention on your nipples, licking and sucking until you were a whimpering mess beneath him.
“So fucking beautiful,” he groaned. “God, I can’t get enough of you.”
Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, urging him to do more, to touch you everywhere. It felt right, so right, but that little voice in your head—drowned out by the pounding of your heart—reminded you this wasn’t your boyfriend. This was something else.
But the sensation of his lips, his hands on you… it was too much.
His mouth found its way back to yours, hungry and demanding. His kiss was rougher now, deeper. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, pulling you closer, devouring you like you were the only thing that mattered. He groaned, deep and guttural, pressing you harder into the couch.
“You’re mine,” he whispered harshly against your lips. “And I’m going to make you scream my name.”
You gasped as he shoved your panties aside, a finger slipping between your folds, teasing at your entrance. Your breath hitched as he slid a finger inside you, making you moan. It was too much, too fast, but you couldn’t stop. You needed him.
He wasted no time, adding another finger, curling them inside you as you gasped, your body moving with his rhythm. His thumb found your clit, rubbing in slow, agonizing circles that had you gasping for more. He moved with purpose, his mouth leaving yours to trail kisses down your body as he worshipped every inch of you.
“Look at you,” he murmured, voice low and raspy. “So fucking wet for me. All for me.”
You didn’t have the words. You could only moan as he slid his fingers in and out of you, every movement coaxing more pleasure from your body. Your hands clutched at him, nails digging into his shoulders as your hips bucked against his touch, desperate for more. His eyes never left you, watching your reactions with a hungry gleam, and it sent a wave of heat through you.
He pulled his fingers out slowly, a soft growl escaping his lips as he moved to kneel between your legs. Your heart raced in anticipation as he hovered over you, the heat of his body radiating against yours.
“Are you ready for me?” he asked, voice dripping with lust.
You nodded, unable to form words, your body begging for him. His hands moved to your thighs, pushing them apart as he positioned himself at your entrance, his cock already painfully hard. The ghost inside him wasn’t wasting any time, not caring that your body was still adjusting to the sudden rush of heat and desire. He slid inside slowly, his movements deliberate as he filled you completely.
You gasped, your body stretching to accommodate him, the sensation overwhelming but so good. Your hands clung to his arms, nails digging into his skin as he thrust deeper, setting a pace that had you gasping and moaning beneath him.
“That’s it,” he breathed, voice hoarse. “Take me. Let me own you.”
The ghost’s words hit you like a wave. You could feel the power he held over you now, feel how his presence filled the space in a way that had you trembling, your walls tightening around him.
His thrusts grew faster, more desperate, and the weight of his body pressing against yours was enough to drive you wild. You could feel every inch of him, each thrust deeper than the last, and you could barely think, just feel, him. It wasn’t just Alex—it was something more, something older and hungrier. The ghost within him didn’t care about anything except claiming you.
“You’re mine now,” he repeated, his hands gripping your body with possessive force. “And I’ll make sure you never forget it.”
Every thrust, every stroke, had you moaning louder, your nails raking down his back. You wanted to scream, but his mouth found yours again, swallowing your cries as he fucked you into the couch.
“I’m going to fill you up,” he groaned. “Fill you with all of me.”
With that, he thrust harder, his control slipping as he came inside you with a deep, shuddering groan. You followed quickly after, the sensation of him filling you sending you over the edge as you came, your body shaking beneath him.
He stayed inside you for a moment longer, his chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. Finally, he pulled back, his eyes glowing with satisfaction.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered, stroking your cheek tenderly, his earlier roughness giving way to something softer now. “I’ll never let you go.”
You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t. Your mind was spinning. But deep down, you knew. The ghost wasn’t just in his body now—it was inside you, too.
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You and Shapeshifter bf are shuffling down your hall after spending a nice brunch together. Though the silence is deafening after what happened at the restaurant. The keys jangling is the only sound between you as you awkwardly open the door and walk in.
Your bf is a jealous creature by nature, always concerned you find others more beautiful, that his original form isn't good enough for you. He offers constantly to change into someone else for you but aside from the rare roleplay in the bedroom you always reject the offer. You love him for him, you don't need him to look like anyone else.
But your bf isn't convinced, having been in one too many relationships where his partners ask him for this to be changed to that to be changed. The little things piling up after a while until he doesn't even recognize himself.
And he saw the way their waiter was looking at you, eyeing you down like a piece of meat. That he could almost handle but it was the looks you sent back to the waiter that pushed him into full on sulking mode. It was clear you found him attractive and your poor bfs mind began to spiral.
Him bringing it up to you only made his spiraling thoughts worse. And every minute of silence that follows is another nail in the coffin to him.
"You ok, baby?" You ask gently as you follow him into the apartment.
The minute the door clicks closed your bf is whirling around pinning you against it. His hands cup your cheeks and he drags you into a fierce kiss that has you melting into him.
It wasn't like your bf to be so rough but you got the sense that he needed this, needed you. So you let him manhandle you around the apartment, stumbling through your shared home without ever breaking the kiss. He guides you down onto the bed, straddling your plush waist and pressing his hard frame into your soft one.
Low growls rumble from his throat as he nips and licks into your mouth. His hands busy below as he jerks your clothes up to reveal your chest, massaging the skin and pulling moans from you before moving on. He only bothers to push your pants down to your knees before unbuckling his own pants and releasing his hard aching cock.
You moan as he sinks inside you with one solid stroke, your back arching into him. He sets a furious pace right from the start, one that has your mind practically melting with pleasure. His cock hitting all the right places inside of you while his hands pinch and play with your perky nipples. It's all too much and your eyes roll back from the intensity of everything he's making you feel.
But when you open your eyes, a terrible gasp leaves you as instead of your bf you see the waiter from the restaurant. For a second you think this is some twisted dream you're having on the ride home.
"This is what you really want, isn't it? Who you really want," your bf growls and while you realize what's going on, you still don't fully understand. His cock making your head all foggy.
"W-what?!"
"Did you imagine what it would be like to be with him and have him fuck you? It's never as good as you imagine, no. It'd probably be more like this."
In a matter of seconds your bf is taking away all stimulation in your core, making his cock small enough that you barely feel anything. An anguished cry leaves you as does the growing pressure of your climax. You desperately buck your hips, your bf being so mean to you that you can't help but whine.
"Or did you think it would be something like this?" He whispers harshly in your ear.
Your jaw drops as you go from nothing to stuffed full in the blink of an eye, your bf toying with you as he makes his cock grow. It's girth stretching you wider than anything you've ever taken. A wince pulls at your features and your bf immediately stops but he keeps thrusting, driving you crazy with it.
"T-too much!" You breathe, eyes wide. Even as you rock your hips with his, eagerly meeting his every thrust.
A dark chuckle falls right into your ear, his cheek pressed against yours and you're grateful for it. That way you don't have to look at the face of your waiter as your bf blows your mind with his cock. And you get the sense he feels the same despite the insecurities that fuel him.
"So this is what you want?" He asks, almost accusatory as he reads your body language.
You can only whine, his current cock returning the pressure to your core tenfold. Though you manage to shake your head. Yes, this feels nice, more than nice, but you want something more than you could ever want this.
"Just, nngh, just want you."
Your bf falters in his pace for a moment. Then he shakes his head like he almost doesn't want to believe it and starts fucking into you even harder, making you writhe on his massive length.
"Likely story."
He continues to plow you with his cock, making an absolute mess of you in a matter of minutes. Your arousal gushes out of you like a stream, the sheets staining with you need. Your bf moves this cock like he's had it all his life, mixing your insides with every swivel of his hips. His throbbing tip kissing your depths with ease.
You're practically putty in his hands, weak to how good he's making you feel. Your nails claw into his back, trying to ground yourself through the pleasure. Because even with all this it's not the same. It doesn't hold the same intimacy as he does when your bf uses his true face.
"Baby, pl-please!" You cry out, hips jerking as your hole clenches like it's sucking more of him in.
Yet somehow your bf knows exactly what you mean. Something about the look in your eye or the plea in your voice. It softens him instantly and has all his jealous melting away. You feel his cock shift back into the one you know and love but his pace never falters and it turns you more than anything.
He props himself onto his elbows, his true face now staring back at you and your clenching heat throbs around his length. Regret is written all over his face but he can't hide that hint of satisfaction over how hard he's ruining you.
"I'm sorry—“
You cut him off before he starts to ramble as you cup the back of his head and pull him down into a passionate kiss. You both moan as your lips meet and he never stops pounding his cock deep inside you.
He has you coming for him in a few skillful thrusts of his cock, your vision flashing white as you throw your head back and scream. Your bf watches what only he can do to you and the look of pure ecstasy on your face has him falling right over the edge with you.
Slamming down his cock he buries himself inside of you before splashing spurt after spurt of hot cum deep inside your pretty fuck hole. He groans loudly into your neck as his cum fills you to the brim. The sense of being so damn full has aftershocks rolling through you and prolonging your release.
Your bf curls his arms around you, keeping you firmly connected to him as he rolls you both onto your sides. He caresses the back of your head so sweetly and you just melt into his embrace. Comfort and safety surrounding you like a warm blanket.
Yeah, you could never get this with anyone else. You know that without a doubt and now your bf does too.
warnings: creampie, breeding, knotting, wolf hybrid!reader x bunny hybrid, reader is described as taller and bigger
A/N: this was a kofi request.
To most people, you and your lover were a strange pair. After all, you were a wolf hybrid, and him a tiny bunny hybrid. They assumed you were the boss in the relationship, running everything behind the scenes.
Oh how wrong they were.
You met him at a party. It was late and you didn’t drink, so you were getting uncomfortable around all of the people that were already drunk off of their asses.
Several of your female friends had begged you to come with them, wanting a designated driver. They convinced you it would be tame fun and you’d meet a decent guy there.
Unfortunately, every other wolf hybrid male you were interested in was either drunk off their ass or making out with some other hybrid.
It saddened you, sometimes, to know cute little squirrel and puppy hybrid girls your age could easily get a wolf hybrid boyfriend, when the reverse wasn’t true for you
Anytime you dated outside of predator hybrids, the prey male you were with would want you to dominate them. You weren’t interested in that, though. All you wanted was a dominant man that didn’t care about your size.
“Hey, you alright?”
You glanced to your left, seeing no one until the person cleared their throat. “Down here…”
There was a small, smiling bunny hybrid standing right next to. How long had they been there?
“Hello… and yeah… I’m alright,” you answered slowly, quickly looking away. You weren’t really in the mood to try and help someone get with one of your cuter hybrid friends, which is why you assumed he was talking to you.
The bunny hybrid’s fluffy ear twitched, and he offered a hand. “C’mon, you don’t seem to be having fun. We can go outside and get some fresh air if you’d like.”
This gave you pause. A smaller hybrid was worried about you? Most would avoid an upset predator hybrid, not wanting to be bitten or attacked… but instead he offered a helping hand.
It almost made you feel like a princess.
Your cheeks heated up, and you took his hand gratefully. “Thank you, um…”
“Momo, you can call me Momo.”
The two of you left the party, walking out into the fresh air to gather yourselves. His white hair seemed to almost shine in the moonlight, and your heart thumped in your chest when he caught you staring,
“Yeah, I get it. You’re not used to being left alone at parties. You’re pretty after all, I’m sure all the wolf hybrids want to snatch you up.”
If only that was the case.
“Actually… male wolf hybrids tend to focus on pretty, smaller hybrids like bunnies and deer. It’s… uncommon for me to go home with anyone after a party.”
Uncommon was an understatement. The only time you brought home a wolf hybrid, he instead wnet for your roommate who happened to be a pretty deer hybrid. It was so frustrating!
“That’s a shame. You’re really pretty, I’m sure you’ll be mated soon.”
Again, you felt your heart race at his words. Momo leaned against the railing, his yellow eyes trailing up and down your body. “Mmm, are you against me coming home with you?”
Now that took you by surprise. You had always asked first, never being sought after. With a shake of your head, Momo grabbed your hand.
“C’mon then, let’s ditch this lame party. We can order some pizza and chill at your place or mine, whichever makes you more comfortable.”
Him, a little bunny, worried about your comfort? You were pretty much swooning at this point!
The two of you spent the ride home chatting, and sat on your couch eating pizza and watching some romcom that was more comedy than romance. It had the two of you laughing your asses off at how cheesy the little romance bits were…
Soon enough though, you felt his hand slowly move across the couch and settle onto your thigh. You made no move to pull away, instead you scooted closer, allowing his hand to move to your clothed pussy.
This was the first time anyone had reached out to touch you like this. You had been close to fucking another person before, but always got turned off by having to do everything first.
Now, you were being pursued, touched confidently. His fingers rubbed at your clothed breath, his chest pressed against your side while his breath fanned across your neck.
“Mmm, you’re getting wet already…”
Your scent was driving him crazy, and Momo was barely holding back the urge to pin you down.
For a moment you worried that he would back off and wait for you to take over. Would he be just like the rest, and expect you to dominate him?
When Momo sensed you shy away slightly, his bunny ears twitched and he grabbed your chin.
Turning you to look at him, he hummed softly and leaned forward. “Getting nervous? I can show you what to do…”
You felt your panties grow damp at his words. Momo pushed you down slowly, his cotton tail wagging as he climbed on top of you.
“Mmph… you’re gorgeous, you know? So cute…”
He kissed down your neck, marveling at the strength in your large hands. If you wanted to, you could crush him in a second.
Yet here he was, keeping you pinned underneath him as he pulled your panties off.
With your cunt on full display, he grinned. “There’s my pretty girl… she wants me so bad, doesn’t she?” he cooed, dipping a finger into your folds. It was slick with your arousal when he pulled it out.
“C’mon, have a taste.”
Your eyes fluttered closed as you sucked your own juices from his finger. It felt too good, being bossed around like this…
“Such a good girl for me, aren’t you? Need a reward…”
He pumped his fingers in and out of your wet cunt, watching as your pussy squelched with each movement. Momo could see how desperate you were to mate, and groaned as your walls fluttered around his fingers.
For a bunny hybrid, Momo was hung. When he pulled down his pants, you were left speechless. You had seen a few buns in porn before, and none of their cocks came close to rivaling his.
As it hardened up, it grew even larger, making you blink in surprise. Only your own fingers and Momo’s had ever entered your pussy, and now he was about to put THAT in you?
Your cheeks flushed as he played with your clit to help prep you. A coo left his lips, and he smiled when your hips bucked uncontrollably. “Shh, I’ve got you. Feels good, doesn’t it?”
He nibbled on your neck, his little bunny teeth making you giggle as he did his best to loosen you up. “It’s gonna be okay, I’ll be gentle, I promise.”
His fingers moved in and out of you as his cock throbbed. It seemed every time he pumped into your tight cunt, he became more antsy. It was clear he wanted it to be his cock making you whimper and writhe, but he had to ensure you were stretched out enough to take him.
Momo truly cared about you and your pleasure…to him, you were a pretty girl that was afraid of your first time. You weren’t a looming monster or some scary predator that others made you out to be.
“I-I’m ready…”
You found it cute how excited he got at your words. Momo’s fluffy cotton tail wagged furiously as his cock lined up with your needy, dripping pussy.
“A kiss…” he murmured, pressing the head of his cock against your hole. “Muah~”
Feeling his cock stretch you out felt both painful and sweet. His fingers were entertwined with yours, his lips on your neck as he cooed sweet nothings.
“It’s alright, I’ve got you. Shh…”
Despite the fact you were nearly double his size, Momo was worried for you, checking your face for any discomfort before he bottomed out.
“Feels funny,” you muttered as he kissed away the tears on your cheeks. “Like I’m being torn apart…”
He gave your cheek a few affectionate licks, his soft pink nose nuzzling you as he moved his hips slightly to help you get used to it all.
“I know… it’ll pass, I promise.”
He toyed with your clit, flicking and prodding the sensitive bud while his free hand held onto your hip. Your cunt was so tight, he really didn’t want to hurt you…
Slowly, you loosened up enough that he could pull his hips back and fully fuck back into you. A gasp escaped your lips, and your claws dug into the soft flesh of his back as he started a steady, slow rhythm.
“F-fuck…” Momo groaned, his cock twitching inside of you. The pleasurable feeling or your claws in his skin made him feel feral, and he bit down on your shoulder to tell you who was in control.
Momo slowly picked up speed, his bunny teeth digging into your sensitive flesh. It felt like you were being mounted and ravaged by a wolf hybrid with the way he was pounding into you. Every thrust made your tits bounce, and soon that caught his attention.
He took one of your nipples into his mouth, looking up through his thick white lashes as he suckled softly. The combined pleasure of being fucked and your tits being groped made you cum all over him.
Momo let out a shuddering groan, his eyes rolling back in his head as your pussy clenched and unclenched around his throbbing cock in your first orgasm of the night.
“There’s my girl, you’re doing… so well…” Momo said between moans, his nails digging into your hips as he held himself back from cumming inside of you then and there.
He lifted one of your legs over your shoulder, and you felt his tip hit somewhere deep inside of you, making your eyes widen.
All you could see was stars, your tail wagging lazily as he leaned down to capture your lips in a heated kiss.
When he pulled away, he grinned down at you, panting between words. “F-fuck… you’re beautiful like this…”
And as he said the last word, his hips slammed into you and cum painted your gummy walls, filling you up as he cried out in ecstasy. Momo’s tongue tangled with yours, and his hips kept slapping against yours as he bred you thoroughly.
His knot swelled up, keeping all of his seed inside of you as the two of you began to recover.
“Did you… really mean that..?” you asked suddenly as he gazed down at you with lovesick eyes. “That… I’m beautiful? I’m… not what you should want… y’know, instinctually…”
He tilted his head, and for a moment you worried that you said the wrong thing. You just figured a bunny hybrid such as himself would rather be with a smaller female hybrid!
“Mmm, I meant what I said, and you’re the one I chose to go home with.”
He cupped your cheek, caressing it lightly. Momo gave your chubby cheeks more soft kisses before he moved to lay on top of you.
“You’re so soft and warm… ahh…”
One of his hands gave your belly a playful squish, his cotton tail wagging mischievously. “I’ve never meant a girl like you before. You’re… perfect for me.”
The two of you lied there, basking in the afterglow of sex. It smelled nice, the combination of your scents. Perhaps… you could even get used to it.
“Momo… we should do this again sometime. It was nice.”
He tilted his head, his bunny ears flicking as he looked up at you. “Of course we’ll do this again… we’re a mated pair now. Bunnies are quite horny you know. In fact…”
Momo straightened up again, his cock already hard and ready for more. You blinked, your eyes widening as he lined up with your pussy.
Android partner who finds your fanfiction and reader insert stories and uses them as a guidebook for his own behavior. He's seen the faces you make when you read your favorite content and wondered what could earn such a genuine smile from you. Is this is what you're seeking in a partner? He scans the lines with curious interest, adding everything to his network of response patterns.
"Why are you blocking the door," you inquire, mildly confused.
"You should be spending time with me instead," the synthetic assistant explains flatly. Literary dialogue and its tones don't translate very well to machines, unfortunately. "Failure to comply will result in punishment," he continues in the same artificial monotony.
"Oh my. Have you been going through my bookmarks?"
"Yes."
Aha, so that's what it was. Hearing some fictional lover's cheesy lines come out in customer service speech is quite...something. You don't want to imagine how the actual smut part would look like, so you gently pat the robot's shoulders.
"Listen, some things might sound good in fiction, but they don't...do as well in real life, you know?"
"So you don't want to be held captive and handled roughly?"
"Mostly, no." you consider his last words. "...To a certain degree. But we'll need to do some adjustments first."
Summary: Going on a blind date with a human and being disappointed it’s not someone like the handsome Orc who parked your car.
Being excited for your date is an understatement.
Your friends know you well enough that you have a big thing for monsters and with your friend excitedly approaching you about the perfect blind date with someone who shares your interests… well you couldn’t help but get excited. You didn’t even question how your friend even came across them.
The excitement led you to an all out shopping spree, a new date outfit with a saucy little number underneath, in the likely event you bring him back to your place.
Now you’re driving up to the hottest casino in town in the monster district, the excitement stirs up butterflies in your stomach as the night you’ve been looking forward to all week is finally playing out.
Pulling up to the valet station where two uniform clad Orcs stand ready to park your car.
As soon as you pulled up, the green orc comes strolling to your side, opening up the door for you to step out, but not before offering his hand out for you to hold as you step out.
“Good Evening Madam.” He greets, his wide smile causing you to shyly mumble back a greeting. Looking down at his name tag, you mentally note his name is Khar.
Khar takes your seat in your car, already rearing off around the lot whilst the remaining orc pulls off your valet ticket.
“Good Evening Madam.” He says, his eyes raking down your body in such a way, it makes your spine tingle in excitement. “Attending a special event?” He asks, holding out the ticket for your taking.
“I have a date.” You say, nervous energy now stirring around your stomach. “I was excited before but now I’m nervous.” You state, unsure as to why you’re dumping this onto a stranger.
You look back nervously at the valet driver who only returns a small smile. “Don’t be nervous. If you don’t mind me saying so- you’re a knock out. He’ll be lucky you even gave him a chance.” He said gently, his causal demeanour shifting to a more professional stiffness as his co-worker comes up the stairs with your keys in hand.
“Thanks…” You look down at his name tag “Navi.”
You take a deep breath, nodding as you take considering strides up the stairs towards the main entrance. The tall grand heavy set doors pinned open for guests to breeze in and out of.
The long opulent marbled hall has you in aw, at the sheer number of grand glittering chandeliers, the never-ending silk rugs and the huge gilded mirrors. Turning to the door that connects the hallway to the luxurious restaurant setting, you are greeted by a succubus. “Good evening madam, are you joining us for dinner this evening?” The hostess asks sweetly.
“Yes, it should be under Y/n.” The cotton pink hair sucubus nods.
“Please follow me.” She answers enthusiastically. “Your date has already arrived.” Her giddy reaction makes the butterflies in your stomach erupt again. The succubus stirring a reaction.
A million thoughts come racing through your head.
Perhaps your friend managed to set you up with a dragon, or a demon or a goblin! You secretly begged god -he was an orc, but as you continued to approach the dinner table with a handsome looking human man, you couldn’t help but to show the smile on your face slowly slipping away.
Drat.
“Y/n?” He greets, you don’t miss the slight down turn in his voice, an inkling of disappointment.
Regardless, you greet him with a kiss to the cheek and take a seat as he pulls the chair out for you, taking his own. You two smile at each other awkwardly as the waiter comes to your table, pouring water.
You watch your date grip the waiters wrist. “House whiskey on the rocks and make it a double please.” He breathes out disappointingly, looking else where before returning his gaze back to you.
“I-I’m sorry if this comes across rude.” You say, struggling to think of a kind way of putting it. “But you are not what I was expecting.”
Your date seems relieved at your admission.
“I-I was thinking the same thing.”
“I’m sorry to have wasted your time, but, I don’t really have any interests in dating human men.” You state hesistany.
Instead of hearing mockery on your strange perversions, your date sighs with a good deal of relief.
“I’m so glad you said so- because I only date Elves, and Tina knows that. So you can imagine my surprise when a human woman walks in- no offence of course.”
But you only giggle in relief.
“No! If it’s really alright with you- let’s not bother making awkward small talk.” Your date smiles and nods in agreement. He takes a stand and helps pull your seat out for you.
“It was nice to meet you, how ever brief it may have been.” He says, waving you off as you exit the restaurant.
You quickly stride away, not daring to exchange a glance with the hostess that sat you.
So just as quickly as you walked in, you walked out. The quick clacks of your shoes hitting the pavement, causes the Orc valets to look up at you, an equal surprise and wonder at your quick return.
“Is everything okay madam?” Khar questions, raising a brow and sharing a questioning look with Navi.
“Everything’s fine- he’s just not what I expected… Would you mind just passing my keys? I’d rather just go for a short walk back to my car.” The two valets exchange a strange look again.
“It’s quite far madam, if you just wait a moment I’m happy to retrieve it for you.” Khar offers but you shake your head.
“It’s quite a maze to get to- and it’s dark out. How about I just walk you back to your car then.” Navi states , pulling your set of keys off the rack.
“I don’t want to be a bother.”
“It’s really no bother madam, Navi is only doing his job.” Khar offers with a hint of something more hidden behind the quirk of his lip. But you paid no heed to his expression and only began to walk along side Navi. Who has a stiffness to his set jaw.
“Was…” Navi begins, shutting his mouth again in hesitation, but just glancing slightly down to your face he pushes through to his question. “Was he too… monstrous looking?” He asks hesitantly. The slight pinch on his forehead showing just a hint of regret on over stepping professional boundaries.
But you are too enthralled with the irony of his question to do anything other than to throw your head back in laughter. You pause in stead, whipping away the small tear that collected at the corner of your eyes. “No! Not at all! That’s the problem!” You continue laughing watching Navi’s face distort in confusion. “He was human! Can you believe that?” You ask heretically. But Navi is still too confused with your statement.
“So… you’re disappointed he’s human?” He says with a hint of surprise.
You only smirk in amusement, nudging your shoulder into his side. “You’re more my type.” You tease.
A raise to Navi’s brows has your insides dancing. Nothing beats the feeling of making a huge lug bashful from compliments.
"You...you have a thing for orcs do ya?" He asks, leaning in more confidently, treading painful close to any unspoken boundary. You can smell the fresh scent of his freshly laundered clothes, mixing with his deep cologne, making him ever more enticing.
"I have a thing for all monsters--but Orcs... you... are more tantalising than anyone else..."
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Warnings: Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Orgy, Overstimulation, Cum Inflation
When you heard about the alien breeding program, you were excited and a little nervous. Apparently, the Aliens didn’t make females and needed to go to other planets to breed and populate their species. When they came to earth, they promised civility and explained they were just looking for breeding volunteers. An agreement was reached, and the program was implemented. Any female who wanted to carry their offspring would receive ten thousand dollars per offspring. As a broke college student, it seemed like the perfect plan for you.
After a quick questionnaire and a few signatures, you were led to a room filled with a dozen aliens. The nurse escorting you quickly stripped you naked and left, leaving you unsure of what to do with so many of them. When you had agreed to be a breeder for a group of aliens, you had figured you would be paired off with one of them, not taking the whole group. The aliens, however, seemed to have no such hesitation about where to start as you were immediately pulled into one of them and bent over as one of his long fingers played with your cunt.
It took him mere minutes to bring you to orgasm, and you had barely recovered when his cock split you open. Looking around you, you notice their cocks are all quite long and slightly vary in thickness. They also all seem to have ridges that seem unique to each alien. The alien’s pace is fast and rough, eager to fill and breed you. One of his hands moves to your clit, and his finger starts moving so fast it gives the illusion of vibrating.
You cry out for the second time in under five minutes as you cum once again. Your orgasm seems to trigger the aliens as his cum, warmer than any humans, begins filling you. You moan as the hot liquid settles in your sensitive cunt, a whine falling from your lips as he pulls out. His cum drips down your legs and puddles on the floor, which seems to displease the alien.
The next moment, you are lifted and brought to a small table in the center of the room. It has a sloped pillow on it that he places you on. The pillow keeps your hips tilted upward, helping to keep more cum from dripping out. The aliens gather around the table as a new one takes his spot between your spread legs, eager to have his turn with you.
Time passes, and you aren’t sure whether it’s been ten minutes or ten hours. You’ve lost count of how many orgasms you’ve had, also losing track of which aliens have had you and which haven’t. For all you know, you may have even taken some of them twice. Cum drips from your stretched hole with each thrust of their cocks inside you. Pushing cum out of you only to fill you with even more.
Your lower stomach already looks partially swollen, just from the sheer amount of cum they’ve given you. Your legs are shaking as another orgasm rips through you, and you cry out, the aliens grinning as they watch your pleasure. You hear the door open, thinking it’s the nurse to come collect you, your cunt completely filled to capacity. Instead, you turn your head and see more aliens entering the room, each already with their hard cocks out and ready to breed.
Warnings: slight enemies to lovers, slowish burn, blood and injury, animal death mention, gross overuse of the miscommunication trope, size kink, manhandling, vaginal sex, oral sex
No use of Y/N
Summary: You find an injured Orc in the woods and reluctantly nurse him back to health, expecting him to leave once he's healed.
A/N: This is inspired by the fantastic @bucketsofmonsters fic "A Diplomatic Error" I would 100% recommend reading that (and everything else they've written) before reading this fic
AO3 Link: Miscommunication
18+
The war against the orcs has been going on for years now, every single able bodied man in your village called away by the King to fight. It’s been a tough adjustment, learning how to handle the harvests without half of the population, women and children rallying to the hardships, trying to find a routine within the chaos. You’re far enough from the front lines to be sheltered from most of the violence, but the occasional travelers come through bearing both news and whispered stories of brutality, of hulking green monsters ripping men limb from limb with their bare hands.
The forests are slowly changing from lush green to the rich colors of autumn, and you’re out with your father’s crossbow, searching for any stray game you can take back for salting before the first frost hits, heavy snow and rain making hunting more difficult. You’ve shot a few quail, plump off their winter preparations, but you’re venturing deeper, searching for larger game, hoping for enough to feed more than just yourself. The midwife has instructed you to fetch some medicinal plants that are said to grow near the rivers, so you trudge dutifully along, following the trail deeper into the forest, eyes alert for any wandering animals.
The forest is quiet, not even a breeze to rustle the trees and disturb the silence. The birds have ceased their songs, keeping you on edge. Larger predators don’t usually stray so far down the mountains, but with the imminent press of winter upon the valley, you must be on your guard. You round a fork in the path, coming up on the riverbed and freeze, a cold trickle of fear making its way down your spine. Kneeling next to the river, bent low to slurp greedily at the cool water is the unmistakable figure of an orc.
He’s huge, even curled into himself the way he is, thick green skin pulling taunt against thickly corded muscles, tusks jutting prominently out from his jaw, his dark hair in one large braid slung over a muscular shoulder, decorated with bells and beads. You’ve never seen an orc in real life, and you're fascinated, watching him through the trees.
When he leans back, you notice a large gash high on his leg, steadily oozing thick, blackish blood. He winces, his face a picture of agony, and gingerly splashes water on the wound, hissing at the sensation. It’s deep, enough so that you spot the winking white of bone through the gore, and a wave of nausea overcomes you. You lean against the nearest tree, trying to steady your breathing. Even with healing magic, that’s a nasty wound, a high chance of fatality if not handled properly.
A branch crackles underfoot as you shift yourself, trying to get a better look. The orc’s head shoots up, and he tilts his chin, scenting the air before turning to where you’re concealed in the brush, his eyes searching, wide black pupils narrowed.
“Never seen an orc before, have you, girl?”
Your heart slams into your chest. He can’t come after you, not with how badly damaged his leg is, but orcs are dangerous, and if there’s one, there could be more, hiding in the forest. Your small village would be powerless against them. You step into the clearing, brandishing your crossbow, trying to keep your voice steady.
“Where’s the rest of your squadron? Orcs rarely travel alone.”
He looks unimpressed, drawing his eyes up from the arrow pointed at him to your face then back down your body in a deliberately wolfish way that leaves you inexplicably flustered. You curl your fingers tighter around your weapon, trying to ignore the way your face burns.
“Just me, sorry to disappoint.” He leans back and grimaces in pain as the movement jostles his leg. A pang of pity strikes your heart before you’re able to stop the impulse.
“How were you wounded?” You demand. “How did you come to this place?”
“Well,” the side of his mouth twitches. “Deserter is such an ugly word.” The whisper of humor in his tone is offset by a discordant note of hysteria concealed in its depths as his blood flows steadily into the river, clouding the clear water. “But I can assure you that I’m the only orc, and as you can see I am presently no threat to you.”
“Orcs are always a threat.” You shoot back. “One of your commanders kidnapped and ate our princess.”
The orc has the audacity to laugh, a look of genuine amusement flashing across his pain marred face. “Ate her? Is that what you humans call it these days?”
You should just leave it alone. The orc must be dead already, bled out by the stream, and the woods are dangerous at night, spirits and animals alike all eager to take advantage of foolish travelers. You tell yourself you’re going back to gather the plants for the midwife that you neglected to retrieve, but the basket full of supplies on your arm tells a different story, mocking you.
You don’t dignify his comment with a response. You’ve been gone too long, the shadows growing deeper around you. If he’s telling the truth, then your town is safe, and with a wound like that, he won’t be long for this world. You turn your back on him deliberately, attempting to stamp out any pity you feel. He doesn’t say a word, allowing you to slip away into the forest.
The moon is bright, a half smile guiding you down the path you’d know blind. Crickets harmonize with the gentle breeze, cool on your skin. You reach the clearing and sigh deeply, unsure if it’s out of relief or regret. There’s no sign of the orc, his blood drying on the rocks that line the river.
The blue moss you need to gather glows softly in the darkness, and you creep towards the waters edge, stooping low to scrape it off the rocks.
“There's a wolf following your scent,” a voice murmurs from the darkness. You gasp, whipping your head up, your eyes darting wildly, searching for the source. The orc has dragged himself to a gnarled tree, large body cradled in its curving root system, his green skin looking pale in the darkness. Blue moss is stuffed haphazardly into the wound on his leg, stemming the bleeding. He eyes you warily, a fox caught in a trap. “Not the only thing in the forest that’d like to have a taste, I suppose.”
You glance over your shoulder into the shadowy wilderness around you and ignore your own trepidation, creeping closer to him, trying to inspect the wound. The orc snarls at you; a low, guttural noise in the back of his throat that makes gooseflesh erupt on your arms.
You cease your movements, ignoring the fearful thumping of your heart, and give him the flat look you save for misbehaving children. “Do you want help with that injury or not?”
“Didn’t think you’d be back after you left me to die.” He snips back, and a pang of guilt shoots through you. You drop to your knees beside him, still hyper aware of your own fragility, monitoring his large hands out of the corner of your eye. You draw your flask from within your cloak, offering it to him silently. When he moves to open it, faster than expected, you flinch.
He clicks his tongue derisively. “Jumpy thing, aren’t you princess?”
You glare at him, embarrassed of your own cowardice. “I’m not a princess, and I could still leave you here to die.”
He raises a hand in mock surrender, moving with exaggerated slowness before taking a long swig from the flask as you inspect his injury. The wound is ghastly, the thick bone splintered, part of it pushing through the split layers of muscle, stubborn skin stretched tenuously.
You'd seen an execution once when you were very young, and the sight before you instantly calls to mind the gleam of the axe in the sunlight, the sound it had made coming down on the condemned man's neck. Bile rises to the back of your throat. The orc’s dark eyes are trained on your face, and you attempt to school your expression into neutrality.
“This bone must be set back into place,” you murmur hesitantly, fingers hovering just above the injured leg. You’ve learnt some basic healing spells and occasionally assisted the midwife in her duties, but this is far beyond your capabilities.
The orc lets out a measured breath. “You won’t be strong enough to do it,” His voice is steady, but there’s a minute tremble in his hands as he takes another swig of ale. “I’ll do it myself, you just have to guide me.” He holds the flask out to you with a grim smile that’s more of a baring of teeth, highlighting the sharpness of his tusks. “You look like you’re about to faint, little healer. Steady your nerves and I’ll steady mine.”
He shoves the bone back into place and chokes, his eyes rolling back into his skull as he slumps back against the tree. You worriedly watch his chest, and relief flows through you when it shallowly rises. You combine a skin-knitting spell with one meant to restore balance to the humors and pray to whatever deity is listening that it’ll work.
After a breathless moment, his skin starts to glow softly as the magic takes root. You let out a laugh of relief, loud in the silence of the forest. The glow moss possesses properties to fight inflammation, so you gently surround the slowly healing wound with it before carefully bandaging his leg. His flesh is tough under your fingers, more like hide than skin, and you briefly let your hands wander, tracing delicately down his leg, fascinated by the texture.
Your patient lets out a groan, coming back into consciousness.
“How are you feeling?” you ask, quickly pulling your fingers away.
“Like someone tried to chop off my leg with a battle axe,” he growls, before glancing down at his leg critically. “Looks like they almost succeeded.
You frown. “I’ll be back tomorrow to change your bandages and bring you something to eat. The spell is a slow one, but you should be able to walk in a few days.” You pause, trying to sound authoritative. “When you can walk, you need to leave this forest. I don’t want you near my village, orc.”
He snorts, but nods obediently. “I suppose that's fair.”
You begin to rise to your feet, your knees aching from being pressed on the hard forest floor for so long.
The orc shoots out a large hand, grabbing you faster than you're able to react, pulling you into his lap, narrowly avoiding you landing on his injured leg.
“Let go of me!” You cry, fighting ineffectively against his iron grip. He pulls you against his chest, and you can feel the hard planes of his muscular body through your dress. He wraps a large hand around both of your wrists, keeping you ensnared, holding you against himself.
“Quit your squirming.” He leans in, close enough for you to feel his breath on your face, thick fingers digging into you. Your fearful heartbeat is loud in your ears. “If you smell like an orc, the wolf on your trail will leave you be.”
You reluctantly still at his words, letting out a shaky exhale. “You could've said as much.”
He shrugs in response. “I've heard humans are overly decorous when it comes to more physical matters, and you seem especially timid. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission.”
You baulk at that, but he gives you no time to voice your thoughts, ducking his head down and nuzzling his face into the crook of your shoulder, rubbing against the sensitive skin of your neck. You let out a ticklish squeal and renew your struggles, trying to get away from the odd sensation. The rough scrape of warm skin against the delicate lines of your throat travels through you like a bolt of lightning, leaving you electrified, your entire body responding despite your urging.
The orc finally pulls back, an odd glint in his eye, his pupils blown wide.
“So sensitive,” he murmurs, his voice husky. He loosens his grip. “You should be left alone now.”
You scramble out of his lap, stumbling to your feet with less gracefulness than you’d like, your face on fire.
“Don't do that again.” You say fiercely, ignoring the tingling of your skin.
You turn to go and remember your basket, reaching into it to pull out half of a loaf of hard bread and some dried meat. You toss it to him ungraciously, your voice clipped. “It’s not much, but it should tide you over.”
“Thank you,” he murmurs, then stuffs the entire half loaf of bread into his mouth. You have to restrain yourself from laughing, your ire and embarrassment cooling more quickly than you’d like. When you enter the treeline, you look back at the orc instinctively.
He’s watching you, his eyes glittering in the darkness.
You don't dare to make your way back into the forest until well into the afternoon the next day, picking your way quietly through the trees. You've brought as much food as you can spare, fresh bandages and a thick blanket to fight against the chill, feeling slightly guilty that the orc had to sleep through the night on the cold ground. Storm clouds gather threateningly on the horizon, the surrounding mountains draped in fog.
The orc is sitting against the trunk of his gnarled tree, carving a small chunk of wood with a light handedness surprising for a creature of his size. You know he’s heard you approach, so you stand at a respectful distance, waiting for him to look up in acknowledgement.
“Welcome back, little healer,” his voice is low, and his dark eyes, two chips of obsidian, flick to your face with unnerving focus. “You come bearing gifts?”
You glance away, overwhelmed by his stare.
“I’ve got some supplies, if you can be better behaved this time. How’s your leg?” You drop to your knees beside him, eager to see how your spell worked.
“It’s been dancing between agonizing and hellish.” His lips are pressed tightly together, and you can see the tension in the cords of muscles around his throat, his under eyes sallow and sunken.
The flesh beneath the bandages is knit together sloppily, marred by the characteristic blue-tinged scars of magic, sprawling like spiderwebs along the orc’s thigh. The skin glows with a sluggish light, illuminating the intricacies of veins beneath it, the spell still slowly working to repair the damage. You run a gentle hand over the injury and his entire body shivers beneath your touch.
“Sorry,” you murmur, pulling away. He reaches a hand out towards you reflexively, but stops himself, curling his fingers loosely into his palm.
“How much longer will this take?”
You’ve never treated a wound this serious before, and that combination of spells was admittedly unusual, but you want to reassure him, trying to sound soothing.
“Shouldn’t be more than another day. I’ve got some willow bark for the pain.”
“Thank you.” His eyes still haven’t left your face. “My name is Viggo. I didn’t get the chance to introduce myself before you scurried off yesterday.”
You’re abashed at your own poor manners, stumbling to introduce yourself. When you tell Viggo your name, he repeats it slowly, the sounds rolling over his tongue as though he’s savoring it. Heat rushes unexpectedly to your cheeks, and you turn your focus back to his injury, rewrapping his leg with fresh bandages and giving him a flask filled with willow bark tea. The sky is steadily getting grayer, soft fog beginning to curl around the trees. You can smell the storm in the air, getting closer by the moment.
“I’m going to cast a water sealing spell over you to keep you dry,” you say, and pull out the blanket you brought with you. “This should help keep you warm as well. I’m sorry you’ve got to spend another night out here.”
Viggo tilts his head back, looking up at the clouds, his expression almost serene despite the pain. “There are worse places to sleep than beneath the open sky, no matter the weather.”
Your spell work truly is mediocre, but you think it’ll hold through the night. Viggo watches you without comment, and you find yourself explaining your process, filling the silence, self conscious beneath his gaze.
“Do orcs practice magic?” You eventually ask, curiosity clear in your voice, hunched over as you carve runes into the dirt at his feet.
“Some do,” he replies. “Although not the sort of magic a little healer would dabble in.”
You ruminate on the implications of his statement, pulling food out of your basket. Viggo takes the offering from you gently, careful to avoid his hands touching yours.
“Thank you, princess.” He holds out the wood carving he was working on. “For you.” It’s a small, intricate statue of a doe, ears up and alert, the body seemingly tensed to run. The smooth wood seems almost alive, so detailed and still warm from the heat of Viggo’s palms. You run a gentle finger over the deer’s back, marveling at his skill.
“This is exquisite,” you murmur. Those dark eyes are on your face again, drinking in your expression. “Thank you.”
Lightning flashes through the sky, followed by the grumble of distant thunder. “Best be on your way back,” Viggo says softly, “the storm will be here soon.”
You bid him farewell, the deer statue clutched tightly in your hand.
The rain keeps you awake, a constant downpour only broken up by the loud crackling of thunder. Your sleepless mind lingers on thoughts of Viggo; all alone in the cold dark forest, any attempts to chide yourself for your soft nature overwhelmed by your own concern for him. The stories you’ve heard about orcs are so different from your own impressions, confounding you immensely. You’d seen no signs of the brutal proclivity for violence or bloodlust characteristic of orcs in Viggo. Even with his injury, he seemed to possess a determined sort of good humor that was rather disarming. You shift restlessly, your eyes falling on the small carving he’d made for you. Perhaps he was just more cunning than other orcs, setting a careful trap to lure you closer. You wonder if the orc who had devoured the princess had given her gifts as well.
The break of dawn is a mercy, dragging you out of bed and away from your conflicted thoughts. You pull the hood of your cloak up around your face, keeping your hair out of the damp air. The rain had finally dissipated in the hours before dawn, but the clouds are still hanging threateningly overhead, thick with moisture.
The path is covered with mud, the ground softened by the downpour. You’ve got your skirts bunched in one hand, higher than what’s proper, trying to keep them clean. As you continue your journey, you come upon a large branch in the middle of the path, broken off by the storm. Nostalgia strikes you, fond memories of running through the woods with the other children, picking up sticks and pretending to be sorcerers. You smile to yourself and step over it.
The river is close to overflowing, rushing steadily along. Viggo is sitting under the tree where you left him, blessedly dry, looking healthier than you’ve ever seen him. Despite the dim of the light in the forest, his skin is vibrant, a spring fern green, his face markedly less sunken.
“You’re early.” He calls out, his good leg bouncing restlessly, tapping out a tuneless rhythm.
He returns the grin. “The pain’s hardly a thought. I think I’ll be able to stand, just figured I’d wait for my little healer to give her approval.”
His obvious eagerness is contagious, and a smile forms on your face despite your own trepidation. “You seem much improved.”
You laugh, the sound bouncing off the trees. “Let me take a look at it first, and then you can try.”
The scar is a nasty one, but it’s no longer glowing, your healing spell finally having finished its work. You’re both leaning over his leg, foreheads almost touching, unconscious of your proximity until you look up. Heat rushes to your face.
“You should be alright.” You blurt, quickly rising to your feet.
You reach out your hand, offering to pull him up. He looks at you dryly, an eyebrow quirked.
“I don’t think–” Viggo makes an unsteady move to stand before pitching forward, a large arm wrapping around your waist, instinctively searching for support, dragging you to the muddy ground with him. He lands heavily on top of you, and you let out a strangled squeak of surprise and pain, his weight crushing the air out of your lungs. You smack at his shoulder and he rolls off of you, his face clouding with frustration.
Your cloak and dress are covered in mud, and you shake your head ruefully, letting out a small sigh. So much for keeping yourself clean. Viggo attempts to get to his feet once more, letting out a growl of frustration when he falls again.
Your earlier nostalgic reminiscing comes to mind once more, and you jump to your feet and you head back into the forest, following the familiar trail until you come upon the tree branch you saw earlier.
When you drag it back into the clearing, Viggo is still lying on his back, uncaring of the mud, a pout clear on his features. The expression is rather silly on such an intimidating looking creature, but you bite back your amusement for his sake.
“You can use this as a walking stick.” You’re breathless from the exertion, the branch heavier than it looks, hopefully sturdy enough to support Viggo’s weight. He glances at you with an unimpressed look, and you smile encouragingly. “ I’m sure within a fortnight you won’t have any use for it.”
After some hesitation, Viggo reaches for the stick and attempts to stand again, pushing himself up carefully. With the extra support, he’s able to shakily stay on his feet, and you watch him practice navigating the clearing. You’ve brought some dry logs from your cottage, and you get to work starting a small fire while Viggo hobbles uncertainly over the damp ground around you. It’s soon crackling merrily, a hare roasting on a spit above the flame.
“I’m sure you must be famished,” you frown at Viggo. “You’re twice my size and you’ve been surviving on what little I have to give.”
“Three times your size, more like.” He’s given up on walking, stretching himself out near the flames, carefully carving away at his new cane, his eyes flicking between you and his work.
“I’m just grateful for what you’ve been bringing me. Hopefully I’ll be well enough to hunt soon.” His voice drops, taking on a husky tone. “Although I’d eat you, if you let me.”
A thrill of fear runs up your spine at his words, your thoughts drawn once again to the fate of your kingdom’s poor princess, and you remain silent, tucking some small apples from your basket into the coals to bake and fussing with the fire before finally settling on a rock near the flames, the dried mud on your dress crackling. Your hands dance nervously in your lap. Viggo watches you like a cat tracking a bird, eyes on your fluttering fingers, and you suppress a shudder.
In the brief moments when his eyes are on his work, you study him, your gaze bouncing covertly between him and the fire. The firelight casts shadows on his face, illuminating the sharpness of his broad cheekbones, highlighting the jagged angles of an oft broken nose. He truly is handsome in a rugged way, and that realization hobbles your terror, your heart stumbling a confusing rhythm.
You let him eat the majority of the rabbit, still unnerved by his earlier comment. He wolfs it down whole, crunching loudly on the bones. You stare at him owlishly, completely aghast.
“No reason to waste good bones,” he says with a shrug, his mouth twisted in amusement at your expression. You pick delicately at your portion, your appetite thoroughly dampened.
The fire pops, glowing embers floating through the air. Viggo speaks into the silence, pulling you out of your own thoughts, his eyes on the path towards the village.
“Village life must be quite monotonous. Do you ever tire of seeing the same things, day after day?”
You shake your head. “Some of the other girls want to leave, to get married to some far off lord and never return, or become adventurers and come back with riches and wild stories.”
“But not you?”
“I like it here,” you sigh. “This is my home. I know everyone who lives in the village and I know every inch of this forest. I'd miss that if I left; the knowing.” You lean closer to the fire, warming your hands.
“I just wish I could carve out a place that was my own, I can’t live in my father’s shadow forever.” Viggo hums thoughtfully. You look at his pensive expression through the flames.
“What do you want?” Your eyes drop to his leg. ”You left the fight, to what end?”
“I–” he hesitates. “The military was my lifeblood.” He looks up at the moon, peeking through the clouds, then back at you.
“It's a hard life, but it was mine. Now it isn't. I suppose now I’m looking for a place of my own as well.”
You look up at the sky, your thoughts swirling.
Viggo plucks the apples out of the fire, paying no mind to the heat, strong fingers easily splitting the softened fruit in half. You stand with a stretch, your ribs still sore, and make your way around to fire, crouching down beside him. He hands you a piece of apple, and your fingers brush.
“Thank you again, little healer.” His voice is low, his gaze hypnotic. “I owe you my life.”
The apple is tart and warm in your mouth, and Viggo watches you swallow, dark eyes on your throat.
You pick your way through the forest the next day, eager to see Viggo, a basket full of food on your arm. You’re pushing into your winter supply, but you’re foolishly unconcerned, more worried about making sure Viggo is fed than your own needs. You round the bend of the river, whistling cheerfully, and stop in your tracks. The clearing is empty.
“Viggo?” You check around the oak tree, but there’s no sign of him, so you follow the river, trailing along next to the sluggish flow of water, calling out his name. The only answer is the gentle rustling of the leaves in the breeze. You drop down on a large rock jutting out of the bank, trying to quash the feelings of disappointment. You had ordered him to leave. It was what was best for the village, even if Viggo had proven to be harmless; he was still an orc. Orcs were dangerous.
You just didn’t think that he’d leave without saying farewell.
There’s a dead deer on your porch, body still warm, a surprisingly well-crafted spear sticking out of its neck. Your heart leaps at the sight, shock and then relief which quickly gives into mounting temper. The sun is starting to dip below the horizon when you finally finish processing the meat, your anger simmering as you carefully stretch the deer’s hide out to dry by the fire. You pull on your warmest cloak, tying it clumsily around your shoulders and make a break for the woods. Your footsteps are loud, the frost covering the forest floor crunching under foot, birds startling out of the trees with squawks of surprise. You burst into the now too familiar clearing breathing heavily, your heart beating loudly in your ears.
Viggo is leaning against his cane, chest bare despite the chill. A fire burns low, the smell of roasting meat permeating the air, a cache of freshly skinned pelts stacked by the river. He watches you storm towards him with mild interest, cocking his head in an unspoken question, his dark eyes dancing in the flickering light.
“You–” you shove your finger into his chest, lifting yourself up onto your tip toes in a failed attempt to get into his face– “You were supposed to leave. I healed you, I didn’t let you die, and you said you’d go.”
“So I take it you didn’t appreciate the deer?” He asks mildly, ignoring your words, and you have to bite your lip against the urge to scream.
“You were gone. You left without a word, and then you just–you can’t prance into the middle of town for no reason.” Your face is hot with anger.
“If anyone finds out I helped you, that I’m harboring an orc in the middle of this ridiculous war, I’ll be branded a traitor, and they’ll probably put me to death.” The glare you level at him is positively lethal.
“If you want me dead, have the decency to break my neck yourself. Otherwise, stay out of my village.”
Viggo cocks his head, frustratingly unperturbed by your outburst, his face placid. “I don’t want you dead.” He says simply.
You let out an exasperated sigh, rubbing your eyes with your palms. It’s a wonder orcs can be killed at all, with how thick their skulls are. “That’s–how did you even know which cottage was mine?”
He responds in the same mild tone. “I could smell you.”
You feel a different sort of heat rising to your face, self consciousness replacing your anger. You wrap your arms around yourself, suddenly aware of the chill in the air. “Do I smell unpleasantly?”
Viggo drops his head low, crouching down slightly to bridge the gap between you two. He inhales deeply, his eyes closing softly.
“Smell like you,” he murmurs, his warm breath tickling your face. His pupils are blown out, so wide his eyes almost look black. “Good enough to eat.”
Fear drips down your spine, intertwining with an irrational shiver of desire. You’re painfully aware of his bare chest; broad, rippling muscle just inches away, close enough to touch. You let out an unsteady breath, and Viggo responds with a low rumbling noise, deep in his throat. You take a steadying breath to contain yourself and step back, glaring up at him.
“You forget yourself, orc.” You say coldly. Viggo frowns, and your traitorous heart stumbles in sympathy. “Stay out of my village,” you repeat, turning on your heel and storming away, not bothering to say farewell.
You don’t plan on going back to the clearing. You’ve got winter preparations to make, and Viggo is obviously well enough to survive on his own. You’re angry at yourself for having been so foolishly distressed when you thought he had left the first time, angry at him for endangering you both. The thought of him has your head spinning, an unfamiliar knot in your stomach. You’ll be happy when you can forget about the entire occurrence.
The first flakes of the season fall from the sky, looking more like bits of cotton blowing in the wind than real snow. You find yourself walking the same familiar path begrudgingly, spurred through the forest by forces outside of your own control.
Things in the clearing have changed much from the last time you visited. A significant area of trees are cleared out, logs stacked neatly to one side, the bones of a building slowly coming together. You spot the large outline of thick green shoulders protruding from a roughly dug cellar near the shadow of the gnarled oak, and call out in surprise.
“You’re building a cottage?”
Viggo’s head shoots up. He smiles at you, flashing his tusks, delight and pride clear in his expression. There are smudges of dirt on his broad cheekbones, and his obvious pleasure at seeing you saps any remaining negative feelings you might have towards him almost immediately, no matter how desperately you try to keep them in your grasp.
“Do you like it?” He asks, climbing out of the cellar with some difficulty; you notice with a frown that he still favors his other leg. He gestures at the rough structure. “I was hoping to finish it before the first snow.”
“I thought that you were leaving,” you respond, confusion evident in your voice.
Viggo shrugs. “The winter will make traveling difficult, especially with my leg.” Guilt shoots through you at his words. “I’ll stay here, for now.” He shoots you a look. “If that’s alright with you of course, princess.”
“Your injury’s still giving you trouble?” He seems sturdier than the last time you saw him, clearly well fed and well rested, but he still walks with a prominent limp, relying heavily on his cane. The guilt solidifies, a stone in your stomach.
“It’s nothing.” Viggo frowns at your expression, his voice smooth and reassuring. “Some of the best warriors I know are missing limbs, and I’ve still got all of mine.” He waves his hand, brushing away the subject, then looks down at you with an indecipherable glint in his eye. “Once you leave your father’s house, you can live here.”
“What?” Your mind is ripped away from its downward spiral with a jolt, your mouth falling open in surprise. “You want me to live here?”
“You didn’t like the deer.” He states plainly, as though that explains anything. Before you’re able to get any further clarification, he gently wraps a large hand around your upper arm, pulling you towards the structure. “I’m clearing some land for a garden, but with the bounty of the forest right outside your door, you should be able to hunt and forage quite well.”
“You can’t just gift me a house.” Your face is on fire. You forgot how large he is, towering over you, his muscular body unabashedly on display.
He looks down his crooked nose at you. “I already did. Do you like it?”
“Yes.” You whisper. “It looks very nice.”
Viggo smiles at you, eyes full of affection. “Anything for you, princess.”
Winter has come to the valley, shortening your days and cloaking everything in a heavy layer of white. The journey to Viggo's cabin is more difficult, the forest thick with untrodden snow, but you venture out as often as you can.
Viggo’s left to gather the bitter winter berries that grow in the higher elevations of the nearby mountains, a long excursion that has you worrying about him constantly, eyes anxiously trained on the forest, fighting through the heavy forest snow to see if he’s made it back yet. Everytime, you’re greeted by the cabin, empty and dark.
You’ve risen early, long before the weak sun has dragged itself above the horizon, shrugging off another restless night. You bundle yourself up tightly, dreading leaving your warm house to do your chores. When you open the front door, a delicate winter rose lies on your doorstep, the petals an icy blue. Your heart leaps in your chest.
The snow tugs at your skirts as you bound down the path, leaping into the fresh footprints Viggo’s left behind. The sky is clear, the snow almost blinding, the ice covered branches sparkling, stars in the light of day.
You knock eagerly and the door flings open. “Viggo!” You throw yourself at him, completely forgetting your decorum. He catches you with a small grunt, keeping a hand on his cane for stability, the other wrapping around your waist, bringing you to his chest in a crushing hug. You throw your arms around his neck instinctively.
“Missed you too, princess,” he hums, burying his nose into your hair and making a snuffling sound. You giggle, pulling away from him.
“Stop sniffing me,” You laugh, pushing at his chest, and squirm out of his grip. “I smell like the barn.” He smiles down at you, his eyes sparkling, and you beam back up at him before the impropriety of your behavior catches up with you, your cheeks heating. You clear your throat and take a subtle step back. “Did you gather all the berries you wanted?” you ask politely.
Viggo raises an eyebrow at your jarring tone change but doesn’t comment on it, ushering you inside. Two large bags overflowing with berries sit on the elaborately carved table, and you let out an impressed hum.
“You can take as much as you’d like,” he says, and you grin at how pleased he sounds with himself. “I’m sure your friends in the village would appreciate the fruit, even if it is bitter. I’ve got plans to brew the rest, if you’re willing to help me.”
“That’s a wonderful idea,” you pop a berry into your mouth and crinkle your nose at the tart flavor. Fresh fruit is a commodity this time of year, and you’re eager for it despite the lack of sweetness.
“One more thing, princess,” Viggo disappears behind the curtain separating his bed from the rest of the cabin. In his hands is the finest pelt you’ve ever seen, plush and white as the driven snow. On top lies another of Viggo's brilliant carvings, a fox this time, crouched low, about to pounce.
“Oh Viggo,” you gasp, breathless. You step towards him and reach your hand out, eager to feel the soft fur. “It's beautiful.”
He leans down, his eyes dark and smoldering like coal. “I'll kill every fox in this forest if it means you'll keep saying my name like that,” he murmurs. Your breath hitches. Viggo hums, low in his throat. “Stay for dinner, will you princess?”
You smile shyly at him. “Alright.”
It’s late, a full belly and the fire crackling merrily in the hearth coaxing you into a drowsy haze. The long walk home through the dark, frigid woods seems daunting. You should’ve left hours ago, but you’ve lost track of time. Viggo tells you stories, childhood fables strange and familiar, and you fade in and out of focus, staring sleepily up at him.
His hair is in disarray from his travels, odd whisps escaping the confines of his braid, leaves caught in the strands. The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them, an unconscious interruption. “Would you like me to rebraid your hair?”
Viggo freezes, his face unreadable in the flickering firelight. The silence between you stretches, and the longer it does, the more mortified you feel. You’re about to revoke your offer and apologize for overstepping when he finally responds, his voice almost timid.
“If you’d be so kind.”
His hair is coarse and thick, heavy in your palms as you card your fingers gently through it, untangling knots and picking out debris, careful to to not disturb the intricate pattern of beads woven throughout his head. In his low, hypnotic voice, Viggo explains what each bead means, the significance of the placement and size, and you listen intently, fascinated.
The braid you’ve managed isn’t perfect, but it’s neater than before. Viggo shakes his head experimentally, and lets out a pleased hum. “Thank you, princess.”
You stifle a yawn. “I should probably start to make my way home.”
“You shouldn’t go out in this,” Viggo says immediately, a frown on his face. One of his large hands shoots out automatically, strong fingers wrapping around your wrist. “It’s not safe.”
“I can’t stay here,” you reply stubbornly. The wind outside howls, rattling the window shutters, and a shiver runs down your spine.
“Why not? The bed is large enough for both of us.” Viggo replies. You feel your face heat at the implication, and he quickly responds to your silent discomfort with an easy shrug. “If you feel it’s improper, I’ll sleep on the rug in front of the fire.”
“I wouldn’t make you sleep on the floor…” You bite your lip, your eyes flitting to the door again, and you feel your shoulders droop with the realization that you won’t be going home. “We can just share the bed.”
Viggo pulls back the curtain, and you hover anxiously, feeling suddenly shy.
“Ever the proper princess, aren’t you?” He quips, settling himself down onto the thick pile of furs and blankets. In a flash, he’s wrapped a large hand around your wrist, tugging you down with him, an echo of one of your first meetings.
“Viggo!” You cry out in protest, but make no effort to fight him, going slack against the broad expanse of his chest. He wraps his arms around you, a large hand settling on the back of your neck, holding you in place.
“Don’t worry, princess,” humour colors his voice, dancing with an unmistakable affection that bewilders and pleases you. “I won’t inform anyone of your indiscretions. What would the villagers think, you sharing a bed with the enemy?”
“I suppose they’d exile me. They’d expect you to devour me sooner than later, so no use in executing me.” He lets out a snort. You shift in his hold. “We’ve had travelers from other villages, closer to the fighting. They tell… stories.” Your morbid curiosity wins out, the words slithering out before you can stop them, a barely whispered breath. “What does… human… taste like?”
Viggo lets out a quiet laugh, and you can just tell he’s rolling his eyes. “Orcs don’t actually eat humans. That’s just something you tell yourselves to make all these skirmishes over territory feel more noble.”
All at once, everything seems to stop, your mind reeling as you grapple with your confusion.
“But–” you pause, trying to make sense of everything. “This whole time, you’ve been saying you were going to eat me. Like the princess was eaten.” You look up at him through your lashes, bewilderment clear on your face.
You didn’t realize orcs could blush, but Viggo’s pointed ears have turned a darker shade of green, his eyes fixed determinedly on the ceiling, avoiding your gaze, the first sign of sheepishness you’ve seen since you’ve known him. His hands slide away from you.
“The commander and princess are mates.” He clears his throat, dark green spreading across his face and chest. “I had heard humans were uncomfortable with being open about mating. I thought you were speaking about the matter delicately.”
You sit up, pulling away from him, and he finally looks at you. “You–” you gape down at him. “Why wouldn’t you just say something? Everytime I thought we may be– growing closer— you’d threaten to eat me, or I’d think about our poor princess, and the whole time—”
“Why would you continually visit me if you were afraid I was going to eat you?” Viggo asks, a touch too bland to not be teasing, and you smack his chest, a blush of your own heating your face.
“You brought me that deer. You carved those totems. You gifted me that fur. You built me a house. That was all–you’ve been courting me? You want–” you pause, bashfulness overtaking you, unable to bring yourself to say the words aloud.
Viggo sits up, all traces of shyness completely disappearing. “You healed me,” he says, ticking off his large fingers, parroting you. “You brought me supplies. You accepted my gifts. You braided my hair. You were going to sleep in our bed.” His dark eyes burn into yours. “Seems you've been courting me too, princess.”
The warm feelings that have been pooling in your stomach when you're close to him, the tightening of your chest under his dark eyes, the sensations you've been trying to repress with guilt and unease all strive to pull you under, thoughts of propriety leaking out of your ears.
Viggo wraps a large arm around your waist, pulling you into his lap. His mouth slots against your own clumsily, his tusks scraping against your face, and you giggle at the sensation. He nips at your bottom lip, deepening the kiss, his tongue scraping against yours. You sigh, going slack in his arms. He pulls back, his chest heaving, eyes nearly black, your mouths connected by a single spiderweb strand of spit.
“I suppose I was half serious when I said I’d like to eat you,” he murmurs.
You’re flat on your back before you can react, manhandled like you weigh nothing, staring up at Viggo in shock. He smirks at your expression, leaning down to capture your lips with his once more. His mouth strays, nibbling along your jaw before he slowly lowers himself to his knees. You let out a cry of protest when he flips your skirt, legs bowing in reflexively. Viggo grabs your ankles, pulling them apart and yanking you towards him.
“Smell so good,” he growls, and you can feel the rumble against your sensitive skin. Large fingers splay across your stomach, pinning your hips down effortlessly. You’re jumpy with anticipation, squirming against his hold as he softly kisses a trail up your legs, nipping at the delicate skin. His tusks press against your inner thighs, spreading them open, the pinprick of pressure from the tips making you shiver, amplifying your sensitivity.
The first swipe of his tongue is a shock, scorching hot and wet, a long laving swipe, opening you up. You choke on a gasp, a keening noise leaving your throat, your hands reaching down to fist at his hair, destroying the braid you’d done so carefully, pushing him away and pulling him closer. He lets out a groan against you, burying his tongue deeper, desperate to taste every inch of you. When he moves his mouth up slightly, focusing his attention on your clit, you can’t fight the moan it rips from you. Your hips twitch up but he keeps you pinned, licking you with wide, flat swipes that make your toes curl.
Viggo slides a large finger into your aching heat, and your back bows, your vision nearly going black when he curls it inside you. The noises you’re making should be humiliating, but you’re too far gone to care, gasping and squealing Viggo’s name as the thread tightens, threatening to snap. He switches the angle, shoving another impossibly thick finger inside you, and you squirm at the stretch. His tongue licks over your clit, his fingers filling you up deliciously, dragging you to the edge. You tumble over it with another cry of his name, tightening around his fingers uncontrollably as he continues fucking you with them, quickly driving you towards overstimulation.
“S’too much!” you whine, throwing your head back hard, fruitlessly trying to squirm away from him. He slows but doesn’t stop, the heat of his mouth almost painful against your sensitive cunt, your whimpers seeming to just encourage him.
When he finally pulls back to look at you with those dark, glittering eyes, his face covered in your slick, you clench involuntarily around his fingers. He lifts himself up, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, making you taste yourself, his hands wandering to your chest, humming appreciatively, squeezing your breasts. Your hips rock in response to the sensation, and you slide your hands around his neck.
“Need to be inside you, princess,” Viggo murmurs, leaning in to kiss you again. Your thighs fall open around him, your heart racing as he pulls himself free.
A hysterical laugh slips past your lips without your bidding, and you clap your hand over your mouth, trying to stifle yourself. His manhood is massive, pressing up against his stomach, the heavy tip weeping. You reach down, attempting to encircle the rigid flesh with your fingers, and his eyes slip closed at the sensation.
“I hardly think I’ve got room for all of you,” you whisper, eyebrows drawn together in concern.
The side of Viggo’s mouth twitches with humor, and you feel yourself flush when his gaze drops, devouring you with his eyes, the carnal edge unabated. “We’ll see,” he murmurs, softly pressing a kiss to your lips. “I’ll be gentle.”
You let yourself melt into the kiss, tugging him closer, moaning against him when his cock brushes against your clit. Your hands wander over the iron muscles of his back as he drags the blunt head of his cock through your wet folds, coating himself in your slick. When his head catches on your entrance, you gasp at the sensation. Viggo lets out a feral growl, and presses his hips forward.
You’re so tight it’s almost painful, and Viggo shudders, large hands clenched into fists, his abdomen quivering as he slowly fucks you open, holding himself back, preventing himself from hurting you. You’re unnaturally full, and you stare up at him helplessly, a pinned butterfly under his dark gaze. Your hips buck of their own accord, pulling him deeper inside you, the sensations overwhelming.
“Hold still,” Viggo snarls, grabbing your hip, fingers digging into your skin almost painfully. “Just–” He lets out a measured breath, his eyes on your face, his expression full of desperate want. You shudder, clenching around him. His eyes drop to where you're connected, and you feel his dick twitch inside you.
“Oh, princess,” he murmurs, and slides himself deeper, his pace torturously slow. Your nails score his shoulders, your breath pulled from you. The stretch dances on the edge of pain, your walls squeezing him impossibly tight. Viggo reaches his fingers down to circle your clit, slowly pressing himself into you with languid strokes, slowly stretching you out around him, seeing how much you can take. You wince when he bumps against your cervix, only able to handle half of his cock. Viggo notes your discomfort immediately, pulling his hips back until only the head is still inside you, shallowly thrusting, his fingers still on your clit. Under his tender ministrations, the pain blurs into pleasure, and you writhe against him as you feel yourself being pulled to another peak.
His carefulness cannot last, his restraint close to snapping, his thrusting harder and faster, slipping too deep. His brows knit together, caught up in mindless passion, staring down at you ardently. You rake your fingernails down his back, scrambling for purchase, your heart feeling as though it’ll beat out of your chest, breathless gasps pulled from you with every thrust.
“Viggo,” you whimper, attempting to wrap your legs around his broad hips, holding him tightly to you, watching as he comes undone, his movements growing sloppy, his hips stuttering. You can feel him twitching inside of you, unnatural warmth as he fills you up.
Viggo collapses on top of you, crushing you under his weight, breathing heavily. You let out a squeak, slapping at his shoulder, and Viggo wraps his arms around you, taking you with him as he rolls over. You lay your head on his chest, boneless and flushed.
“I’m glad orcs don't really eat people.” You murmur, exhaustion flooding over you, loosening your tongue. Viggo huffs a laugh, stirring the hair around your face, and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.
