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#orc/human
sirsadly · 11 months
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request: orc/human - human is the orc's tailor; are they upset cuz the clothing keeps getting messed up? are the appalled by the quality of their former clothing for being so shoddy? does the orc's current ensemble simply not bring out their eyes? are they distracted during a fitting for their friend who deserves nice clothes dammit and didn't expect their ripped-ness to be such a problem because it isn't with their other customers? is this fantasy or modern? -shrugs- i apparently have more thoughts than i thought but this work training is so very boring - feel free to use none of them but the overall prompt but i crave anything that doesn't discuss "the five subcategories on this slide" pls
i hope you got through that work training okay, and you enjoy this mini fic. sorry for being beyond late ;)
Where My Hand Treads 
male orc with gender neutral reader
591 words | sfw
Their thighs ate up most of the measuring tape. Their very same thigh you perfectly custom made pants for, that now stretched taut against the gulf of their muscles.
As their tailor, you were happy about their frequent patronage, but it felt like they carefully maneuvered the small shop you worked at least twice a week with an old garment at hand needing repair.
Sometimes that garment was something you made a week prior that needed mending. You wondered what their lifestyle could be like to warrant this many repairs, not that your wallet was complaining. Curiosity that is what we will call it for now, what that shapely legs do for a living.
You could excuse the ripping and loose threads, but what had you up in arms with annoyance, frustration, and maybe even anger was how his ensemble made the least amount of sense. Though he had all the pieces of a professional suit, he never seemed to put the right colours together. And when he did something of the proportions was off, or fraying at the hems hence coming to the shop.
Most importantly it hurt to see a diamond just covered in mud, his clothes never seemed to bring out his personality or the colour of his warm brown eyes. You told him as much after measuring him again for the second time this month, to make sure his clothes were not faulty on your part.
“You want to style me? But I don’t think you provide those services.” He said slowly. “Is this an exclusive offer for my frequent patronage, if so do other clients get this treatment as well.”
“You’re right we don’t. I think I’ve never offered anyone this. It’s just that you clearly need help assembling an outfit, especially if you are going to be here every day needing a garment repaired.”
His eyes wandered towards the rumbling ceiling of your small shop under the subway tracks, rubbing at the back of his head in thought. You have embarrassed him, your banter does not always read as playful as you would hope. Your ears heat in shame, in the already hot summer afternoon. Your words might not always lift a person’s confidence but you knew what you could achieve with your sewing machine and your critical eye. You knew it every time a client looked in the mirror after a fitting. 
“Please allow me, I just think you are not shining to your highest capacity. Everyone has certain colours and cuts that make them look effortlessly put together. Not everyone gets to learn that, it’s something you either gotta be passionate about or learn early on.”
Your eyes looked straight ahead to his distracted ones, trying to catch the colour change of his mood. “I would like to extend that knowledge so that you may be your brightest self. I did not mean to embarrass you…” you trailed off after his lips pulled tight. He seemed to be enduring you, that expression twin to those braving the biting wind. 
His tusks jutted out, a bit large for his face with his brown eyes, squat nose, and long curls.
You were already imagining the colours you would pull for him, neutral reds and browns for his green skin, toeing that line to bring out his complexion. He would be magnificent. This you could do, this where your hands have tread before.
“My body is in your capable hands, Tailor.” The comment did not go unnoticed, but you knew words could only go so far.
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bump1nthen1ght · 2 years
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Jock!Fem!Orc x GN!Reader Headcanons (Part 1)
Pairing: Gender Neutral!Reader/Jock!Female!Orc
Genre: Urban Fantasy, Fluff
Warnings: None
Part 2
A/N: Now that requests are officially completed (a year or so later but shhh), I’ve decided to play around with some longer headcanons! I definitely plan to do more traditional short stories (I have some in the works at the moment), but I think these will be a good medium for general ideas that don’t have a concrete theme yet. Let me know what you guys think!
- She’s definitely on the rugby team, maybe even lacrosse or shot put
- She’s the talk of the college, both for her good looks and the way she dominates on the field
- But she isn’t boastful or even that talkative; The first time you two meet is when your paired up for class assignment
- She always sat in the back, usually sweaty from morning practice, her hair pulled back in a braid.
- You had noticed her of course; When you walked into class the first day, she had been nonchalantly checking her phone, arm thrown over the chair beside her. Her legs were lazily spread as she scrolled with her thumb.
- Those rugby shorts, her thick thighs, and those biceps had your heart stopping. Your first thought was “Damn”
- But you don’t have the guts to talk to her until you’re paired up
- She doesn’t add too much to the conversation, but she isn’t disinterested either. She’s diligent with her work and even asks that you meet up to review your respective parts. 
- “What book are you reading?” She asks, voice husky, during a short break.
- You flash the cover and she nods approvingly. You think that’s the end of the conversation. But-
- “I’ve read that author's other book and I enjoyed it. How’s this one so far?”
- “O-oh, it’s pretty good,” You stutter, still reeling from having a casual conversation. “Pacings a little wonky; I’m not sure if the endings gonna work with how little pages I have left.”
- “I hate when that happens.” She takes a bite of her croissant, brushing a rogue piece of hair behind her ear. “Keep me posted how it goes, maybe I’ll give it a read.”
- You nod
- The conversation ends, you both get back to work. But each time you meet, more little moments like that occur. You both get more comfortable, preconceived notions falling to the wayside.
- She comes to one meetup wearing her rugby uniform, hair tied into a tight fishtail braid. You can see her tummy when she stretches her arms and your heart nearly stops.
- “You have a game today, right?” 
- “Yeah, at 8”
- “Oh I should be able to swing by then.” You mimic a fake pom-pom. “Cheer you guys on.”
- She smiles. It’s bigger than normal, almost mischievous. You notice the gold rings that cling tight to her tusks, a typical Orc good luck charm.
- “Do you even know anything about rugby?”
- Your face goes red.
- “A l-little! I know there’s a ball, and some tackling, and running….”
- Let’s just say you're not a sports fan.
- She laughs. It’s a beautiful sound that sets your chest on fire.
- “Well maybe I can teach you some things after the game,” she cracks her neck, “Show you how it’s done.”
- You can’t tell if she’s trying to be flirtatious or if your brain was deep fried by your crush and is reading too much into it. Either way you frantically nod, stuttering a “Yeah for sure!” and working the rest of the time in flustered silence.
- She has to leave early to prep for the game, allowing you extra time to hype yourself up and force yourself out of the house.
- The stands are filled with people decked out in your college's colors; People with painted numbers across their chest, people with giant foam fingers, everyone is either tipsy or acting like it.
- Everyone cheers when she runs on the field, holding up signs with her last name and number. You feel wildly unprepared in your normal jeans and a t-shirt
- She’s a force to be reckoned with on the field. She brushes off tackles no problem, shoulders pushed forward with every play. She’s so large but is quick as a cat, passing with ease and making it seem so easy.
- You cheer with the crowd, not even focused on the score, just watching her
- The game ends with your school's victory, the stands and the team erupting with cheers. Her team swarms her in a dog pile and all the bystanders shout a demeaning chant to your rivals.
- You're somehow able to navigate through the crowd of fans and find the exit of the locker room. Her teammates have already left with their dates and their friends, but there hasn’t been a single sighting of the star player yet.
- You’re one of the last people left, the excitement carrying everyone else off to the after party. You almost think she left with them when she comes out.
A wet towel is slung around her neck, shirt discarded to show her sports bra. You feel your face flush.
- “Hey! Almost didn’t see you there,” she says, running a hand through her hair and undoing her frayed braid. You wave back, the breath knocked out of you when she gives you a side hug. “I wasn’t sure if you would come, but what did you think of the game?”
- “It was cool!” She hasn’t released you from the hug, arm still slung around your shoulder as you walk to the parking lot. Her fingers absentmindedly rub into your shoulder blades. “Not sure if I understood all the plays and stuff, but I know enough to say you kicked ass.”
- She chuckles, hand still slung over your shoulder. You can feel your heart beating faster and faster and will it to stop; She’s just touchy-feel the way all jocks are, it doesn’t mean anything.
- “Well I’m wiped, but I’m still down to show you some stuff if you want. Are you free Saturday?”
- “Yup, and if you wanted we could add some of those finish touches to our powerpoint beforehand.”
- She raises her brow.
- “I was thinking more of going out to breakfast before. Y’know, like a proper date.”
- You stop in your tracks, her arms slipping away from your shoulder as she takes a few steps forward. She turns back, confused.
- “L-like a what?”
- She smirks, that same mischievous one from before. With her tousled hair and sweaty body, it looks damn near debaucherous.
- “Like a date, cutie. That is, if you’re down?”
- A solid 5 seconds pass before your brain catches up with the situation.
- “Yes! Yes, I am-I am totally down. With a date, I mean.”
- She smiles, stepping closer toward you. Her hand brushes against your jaw, staring in a way that shoots right through your heart.
- “Glad to hear it. How about 9 AM? At our usual cafe?” 
- You nod, not trusting your mouth to say proper words at this moment.
- “Great. See you then, cutie.” Her thumb brushes against your bottom lip before she steps away and gives you a wave, walking toward her beat up pick up truck.
- You stand there, baffled, before realizing you’ve forgotten where you parked.
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malady335 · 1 year
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Chapters: 21/? Fandom: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: original female character/original orc character(s), Human/Orc Characters: Original Female Character(s), Original Orc Character(s), Original Rohirrim Character(s) Additional Tags: brief description of assault, Rape Recovery, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Orcs Being Orcs, Cannibalism, Cultural Differences, Bigotry & Prejudice, Blood, Orc Culture, Post-War, Fourth Age, Orcs, Don't copy to another site, Blood and Injury, Moria, Isengard, Uruk-hai - Freeform, Goblins, Animal Death, Brief attempted assault, Childhood Trauma, Murder, Reverse Harem, Fourth Age (Lord of the Rings), Post-War of the Ring, Post-Lord of the Rings, Oral, Vaginal Sex, Hand Jobs, goblin/human Summary:
A group of orcs from different cultures and backgrounds are forced to stay together in order to survive post-war Middle Earth. They stumble upon a Rohirrim woman disposing of a body leading to a new element for their group. Will sparing this woman lead to their deaths or bring about their survival?
Status: Updates when chapters are finished(at least once a month)
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injuries-in-dust · 2 months
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I don't know why, but I like the idea of humans being to aliens, what cats are to humans...
Alien1: hey, when did you hire a human?
Alien 2: we didn't. They just wandered aboard one day, saying they wanted to "hitch a ride." Then they never left. I think they like it here.
Alien 1: the human distribution system has chosen.
***
Alien stares at the human, who has climbed up a very high shelving unit.
Alien: Human, get down before you hurt yourself.
The humans response is to climb higher.
***
Alien is secretly filming their human, who is spaced out and just staring at nothing.
Alien (whispering): I think the human is about to intercept the brain cell. (Laughter) don't worry human, if it tingles that means it's working.
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nopennyallthoughts · 8 months
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One thing that I am 100% convinced would send an alien into cardiac arrest is sweating.
It sounds stupid but think about it: apart from horses, humans are the only species on earth that can sweat so it's not a far stretch to believe it would be incredibly rare in extraterrestrials as well.
Just imagine, one day the AC in the main engine room is broken and everyone starts panting like crazy because of the heat, but the human? Just keeps working like usual? It's not like they aren't affected by the heat at all, but they aren't breathing quite as hard as the rest and everyone thinks ahh yes, humans must have extreme durability to heat coming from that death planet. And then. The human starts melting?!?? And suddenly everyone is panicking because their human is leaking all sorts of important nutrients, metals and water out of every pore - are they dying? Surely this cannot be normal!
And the human has to explain that, no they are perfectly healthy and yes it is actually just the human body's way of cooling itself down and no they don't think it's "the coolest thing ever!!", wait till it starts to smell!
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deunmiu-dessie · 29 days
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ⅴ▬ ⁽ 𝑜𝓇𝒸 ⁾
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𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₅˖₇ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡
𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : mdni----- unedited, NSFW,  explicit content, teratophilia, orc/royalty!human, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, overstimulation, breeding, spit kink, sloppy kisses, size difference, somnophilia, slight voyeurism, orcish, reader loses all forms of etiquette and just babbles-- stupidly, belly bulge. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎
𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎: as royalty it's your duty to marry and provide heirs for the kingdom, however, your parents have a different plan for you.
꒰m!orc ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱
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 𝐹or as long as you can remember, you have been allured by the forbidden. Whenever your parents commanded you to abstain from a certain act or sternly prohibited you from engaging in another, it ignited a fervor within your being. And inevitably, you succumbed to its allure.
Your relationship with your parents was not a harmonious one. From the time you were but a child, they made it abundantly clear that you were not conceived out of their love for one another, but rather out of an obligation to the throne. To them, you were an inconvenience, a mere hindrance that they longed to be rid of. Thus, you existed in a perpetual state of unease, forever uncertain of their next move.
The castle bustled with activity this week, the number of knights seemed to have multiplied, and your encounters with your parents grew scarce. Your daily meals together became non-existent- not that you were complaining. Instead, during supper, they scorned and mocked you—drawing comparisons to your elder cousin who had recently become betrothed to a Duke. You were aware that they would arrange a marriage for you; it was inevitable, but you hoped it would be to someone who would eventually cherish you as you would them.
Verily, this day seemed naught but a replica of the day prior—a day draped in melancholy. The heavens were adorned with clouds of a somber ashy hue, obscuring the radiant sun in its entirety, and permitting but a scant ray of light to penetrate. You lay sprawled on your bed; the clamor from beyond your door kept you from getting any sleep, so you opt to lay there, eyes shut and breathing even.
The two hefty thuds at your door jolt you awake, your eyes snapping to the entrance. A servant girl stood there, her gaze piercing, and her upper lip curled in a sneer. "The King and Queen request your presence for a meal in the dining chamber."
You release a heavy sigh and nod. "Yes, I shall join them shortly, Nadia." she scoffs and closes the door with a soft thud. Rubbing the remnants of sleep from your eyes, you rose from your bed, slipping into your shoes with a sense of resignation. Hastily, you arranged your disheveled hair and adjusted your attire in the mirror, preparing yourself for the impending encounter. Finally, summoning your resolve, you embarked on the descent towards the dining hall.
 Your stomach churns uncomfortably as you motion towards the knights, fingers twisting nervously as they swing open the heavy oak doors. Stepping into the chamber, you swiftly bow and linger there for a moment, awaiting permission to be seated. "Hail to the Sun and Moon of the realm." Your sire grunts and gestures for you to take a seat; you release a shaky breath and settle across from your mother, who pays you no mind.
Within the dining hall, a profound stillness prevails, accompanied solely by the gentle clatter of utensils upon porcelain plates. You dare to disrupt the silence, your heart constricting within your breast, burdened by your uneasiness. " Pray tell, have I heard true? Have the demons breached the borders, causing mayhem? Is that why the ranks of the noble knights have swelled in recent days?"
The older man looks up from his meal, steely eyes on your face. "I did not deem you astute enough to discern matters of such nature, but aye, it is true. The Orcs shall breach the barrier if we do not do something. The knights from Tvatian shall not grace us with their presence for a week's time, yet our defenses wane with each passing moment."
The sound of your mother's throat being cleared reverberates through the air, abruptly drawing your eyes towards her. "You shall soon attain the age of twenty, my dear. Do you have any intentions of entering into wedlock?" Her voice possesses a cloying sweetness, signifying her ulterior motives; she is forever scheming. As you carefully place your knife and fork on the table, you grant her your undivided focus. "Aye, mother," you reply, your words tinged with a touch of uncertainty.
With a disapproving click of her tongue, she gracefully lifted her goblet to her lips, attempting to conceal the mischievous grin that flickered across her features. "Verily, a little bird has whispered in my ear that Orcs take pleasure in having humans as mere playthings, using them as harlots and passing them amongst themselves. How dreadful."
 Your hands clench beneath the table, and you struggle to suppress the bile that threatens to rise. Your heart thumps sporadically in your chest, almost painfully. What is she implying? "Pray tell, what is the essence of your words?"
"The royal family's expectations are not to be taken lightly, my child. If you persist in shirking your responsibilities by avoiding marriage and offspring, alternative measures must be considered. You shall be delivered to the head Orc at the border; mayhap that will pacify them until the Tavatian knights arrive." Your father had spoken this time, causing you to swiftly turn your gaze towards him. Tears welled up in your eyes, and a soft laughter escaped your lips. "Pray, father, assure me that you jest."
The answer lies within his silence. Your hands collide with the table, your head sways vehemently from side to side. "Nay, nay! You shall not subject me to this. What offense have I caused thee? I have obeyed all your commands unquestioningly, and you are planning to— Nay, I shall not proceed."
As the succulent salmon dances on her fork, your mother's laughter fills the air, resonating with a warmth that belies the gravity of her words. "My dear child, you find yourself bereft of options. You shall be deemed a traitor to the noble lineage and condemned to perish before your very birthday." A lump lodges itself in your throat, and tears stream down your face, as you rue the moment you stepped out of your room. "For what reason do you bear such animosity towards me?"
"Escort her back to her chamber; she's giving me indigestion," your mother states with a grimace.  The knights pause briefly, uncertain of how to guide you away. Dismissing them with a wave of your hand, you rise from your chair and exit the chamber, tears clouding your sight. The journey back is unsettling, with the maids gossiping and gesturing, their disdain evident on their faces, and their disapproving gazes following you.
The door is forcefully slammed shut behind you, and with great urgency, your feet carry you to your bed, where you collapse with a heavy sigh. Almost immediately, your pillow becomes saturated with the tears that pour forth, and you huddle into yourself, simply becoming smaller. 
  Indeed, you knew this would occur eventually, but you hadn't thought you would be handed over to some hideous monster who would likely slay you upon arrival. Violent sobs wrack your body, shaking you to the core, while your nose runs uncontrollably, the pillow muffles a scream of agony.
After half an hour had passed, you lay there, sleep welcoming you with warm arms. The answer to this puzzle would reveal itself upon your awakening.
Woken by the sound of shuffling, faint whispers, and delicate clinks, you remain motionless, filled with trepidation, and unwilling to stir from your position. You quickly clench your eyes shut upon hearing the intruder approach. As much as you desired to confront them, you were also intrigued to uncover their intentions within your room.
"Seize her limbs; we must transport her to the dungeon." In an instant, your heart falters, trembling fiercely, and for a moment, your breath is held captive. As your eyes snap open, the ceiling of your chamber looms above you. Swiftly, you strike at the person nearest to you, expressing gratitude to the gods as you hear their curse.
Emerging hastily from the confines of your bed, you sprint towards the exit, a shrill cry escaping your lips as a hand clutches your ankle. You descend abruptly, your chin colliding with the cold marble beneath, silently expressing gratitude for the prudent act of placing your tongue against the roof of your mouth in the final moments.
   Swiftly flipping over, you kick frantically, tears streaming down your face as your legs are forcefully spread apart, and the assailant inserts themselves between your thighs, seizing hold of your arms.
Your vision blurs as a heavy slap is brought across your face. The brief respite from your struggle grants the assailants the opportunity to lay a cloth upon your nostrils. Your eyes flutter shut, darkness casting a shadow upon your vision. The feel of your body being lifted is the only thing you remember.
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Within the confines of the cell, you find yourself in a state of contemplation, your head gently leaning against the cold metal bars. The sharp sound of heels striking the ground causes you to straighten up. The passage of time remains elusive, yet the atmosphere hints at the arrival of a new day, shrouded in the quiet of dawn.
Your mother's face came into view, causing you to sneer in disdain as you buried your head in your knees, refusing to meet her gaze. The very sound of her voice sent shivers down your spine, igniting a mixture of anger and sorrow within you. She callously auctioned you off, displaying a complete lack of concern for your well-being.
"I reckoned it would be preferable for you to don your best attire, but it would be futile. A watchman shall be present shortly to guide you to the border, make no disturbance, do you understand? 'Twould be unsightly if you do."
You ignore her, but deep down, you are filled with dread to venture towards the border. You longed to weep and plead with her to refrain from sending you, but it would only wound your pride. Instead, she smiles and draws nigh unto the prison bars. "When we emerge victorious in this war, and if you are still breathing, I shall dispatch you to a brothel. I couldn't possibly have such a defiled child. Revel in your sojourn there, my dear."
The clatter-clack of her footwear slowly vanishing into the distance brings forth a torrent of tears. Why must this befall you? What sin have you committed to warrant such treatment? The jingle-jangle of keys catches your attention; the guard stands before you with a look of pity. "Your majesty, the time has arrived."
You nod in a pitiful manner and rise from the ground, using your soiled hands to dry your tears, leaving traces of dirt on your cheeks. As you draw near to the guard,  he pulls down his sleeve and tenderly wipes your cheeks with a sympathetic smile. You bow softly in gratitude and proceed to walk with him to the carriage.
He assists you inside and closes the door; a click prompts you to peer through the tiny gap. A lock secures the door; as you lock eyes with the guard, he merely sighs and shakes his head. "The Queen has requested this. I beg your pardon, Your Majesty." 
  You remain silent, leaning back in the seat and staring blankly at the castle. You see your father standing at his office window, observing. You avoid his gaze, curling up in the seat. Then, as the carriage sets in motion, your heart swells, and tears flow.
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The carriage's abrupt jolt awakens you from your nap; the sun is just beginning to descend, signaling the end of a day filled with endless riding. The only noise is the steady trot of the horses and the occasional whisper of the soldiers. Have you arrived already? You swallow nervously and flinch as the door is forcefully opened. "We have arrived, your highness."
You nod and sit up, clasping his hand to disembark from the carriage. Your eyes swiftly survey the surroundings. Despite the tales, the border seemed relatively serene. You couldn't hear anything from beyond the wall. At length, a throat is cleared,  causing you to look up, and the guard beckons you along. You hesitate for only a moment before fortifying your resolve and walking forward.
After much anticipation, the distant voices grow more distinct. "Captain, 'tis here! Shall we unseal the gates?" The clamor of the ponderous wheels turning and ascending is loud in your ears. The gate opens enough to allow your passage beneath. They weren't wasting time at all. The guard places a hand on your lower back and pushes you forward gently. "The Orc General has agreed to receive you; he's on the other side waiting."
You suppress the lump in your throat and proceed, every gaze fixed upon you. The wall loomed thick and intimidating,  and you couldn't shake off the fear of it collapsing on you as you reached the other side. However, as you eventually crossed over, your gaze locked with his.
Standing tall at a minimum of 9 feet, he possessed a powerful build adorned with thick muscles, and hair decorating his chest. Dark brown hair cascaded down to his waist woven into an intricate braid, contrasting against his pear-colored complexion and a thick beard enveloped his jaw. Scars crisscrossed his body, enhancing his rugged charm.  Despite his blunt tusks, one of which was slightly chipped, there was no denying the outrageous attractiveness of this Orc.
As he takes a step forward, an instinctual reflex compels you to retreat, a shiver of trepidation coursing through your being. Your legs, heavy as if forged from lead, refuse to heed your desperate plea for escape. A subtle chuckle escapes his lips, the corners curling upwards in a smug grin. "Time is not a luxury I possess, little human," he mocks, his voice dripping with impatience. 
  You part your lips to utter a response, but only silence greets your futile attempt. The resounding thud of the closing wall seals your grim destiny, causing your weakened knees to buckle beneath you, surrendering to the tender embrace of the grassy ground. With a deep sigh, he strides towards you, casting a towering shadow over your slumped figure, a chilling reminder of his overpowering presence.
With utmost ease, he effortlessly lifts you, as if you were as light as a feather. Your body tenses in his embrace, a mixture of vulnerability and anticipation. The tears well up, threatening to spill over. Surprisingly, his touch is tender, his hands delicately traversing your legs and back. Summoning your courage, you manage to muster a question, your voice trembling slightly. 
  "Might I inquire about your name?"  Despite your hesitant speech, he pays no mind, his voice resonating with a deep timber that sends a surge of desire coursing through your veins. A flush of warmth spreads across your face, compelling you to avert your gaze and focus on your lap. "I am Loran, the General of the Mammoth Clan."
Silence envelops the air for a fleeting moment before your voice breaks through once more. "My name is (Name)" He acknowledges your introduction with a subtle hum, and together, you navigate through the labyrinthine paths until you arrive at a large tent. With utmost care, he settles you upon a sumptuous bed adorned with furs, then proceeds to position himself near a table, obscuring its contents from your prying eyes. 
  A knot tightens in your throat as you summon the courage to voice your deepest fear. "Might you have intentions of devouring me?" you whisper, recoiling at the childlike vulnerability that tinges on your words.
His laughter causes a flutter in your chest; every aspect of him leaves your insides twisted. At last, he ceases his actions and pivots to meet your gaze, his arms folded. You had to physically remind yourself to avert your eyes from his well-defined muscles. "Would you like me to?" His voice carries a teasing lilt, yet his words hint at something more intimate.
You shake your head in denial and draw your knees closer to your body. He was nothing like the figure you had imagined; you were convinced that your life would have ended by now. Your gaze wanders aimlessly as you delve into your own musings. Unbeknownst to you, he crouches down before you. The calloused tips of his fingers grazing your chin send a shiver down your spine. Your eyes meet his, and you find yourself holding your breath.
"The hour grows late; retire for the night. "
 You offer a silent nod, watching him leave the tent. Following his guidance, you settle back onto the furs. After the tumultuous events of the day, slumber swiftly envelops you, embracing the plush comfort of the bedding.
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The warmth seeping into your skin prompts you to wriggle out of the furs. The weight of an arm flung over your stomach arrests you, dread settling in your heart and coiling around it like a vice. Though yesterday's events come rushing back to you and you relax, your tense body melting into Loran's embrace.  
  Despite the circumstances that brought you here, he had shown nothing but kindness, even playfulness - he didin't really make you uneasy, and it seemed as though a burden had been lifted from your shoulders.
In the realm of uncertainty, his actions remained capricious, yet amidst this unpredictability, a newfound liberation enveloped your being, you were free. Loran, with an irresistible allure, draws you nearer, your bodies melding as your front meets his. You place your hands on his chest and gently create distance, huffing as he cuddles closer.
After struggling a bit more, you come to a stop and seize the opportunity to examine him closely. Withdrawing your hand from his chest, you gently place it on his cheek, relishing its velvety texture. Loran possessed a striking appearance. Tracing your fingers along his lips, the sensation of his tusks lightly brushing against your fingertips captivates you once more. Their smoothness leaves you mesmerized. The rounded tips are gentle and harmless; they would not cause any discomfort if you were to share a kiss.
 Blushing with embarrassment, your cheeks turn a rosy hue, and for a fleeting moment, you seek solace by burying your face into his chest. Raising your gaze once more, you cautiously wave your hand before his face, ensuring his continued slumber. With no signs of movement and a steady rhythm of breath, a sigh of relief escapes your lips. 
  Gradually, you shift your position, ascending along his form, while your heart flutters nervously within your chest. With a mixture of fascination and unease, you lean closer, drawn to an inexplicable magnetism emanating from him. His lips, so alluring, entice you irresistibly.
 Placing your hand on his cheek, you lean in with deliberate slowness, capturing his lips with yours. The sensation of his tusks grazing your skin sends a rush of pleasure up your spine. With closed eyes, you deepen the kiss, savoring the unexpected softness of his lips. His taste is intoxicating, akin to a forbidden elixir. You have always been drawn to forbidden pleasures.
With a hint of reluctance, you retreat, allowing your eyes to slowly unveil the world around you. A startled gasp escapes your lips as your gaze meets Loran's. Despite your endeavors to break free from his embrace, his arms encase you like unyielding steel, entrapping you. Loran's chuckle resonates with a profound and drowsy timbre, while his hand ascends to firmly grasp your chin. "Do not flee from me, Sma ni." ( little one )
His lips are on yours, gentle and governing. His other hand gripping your waist and quickly lifting you onto his chest. The sensation of his thick and moist tongue overpowering your mouth elicits a fervent moan from deep within you, while your thighs instinctively clasp around his stomach. As his hands glide up your top, the pads of his fingers diligently work out the tension in your soft skin. Gradually, they find their way to your hips, expertly guiding them to grind against his abdomen.
With a soft whine escaping your mouth, you break the connection of his kiss, and your tongue lazily protrudes, leaving a trail of warm saliva on your chin. A primal growl resonates from deep within his chest, causing your thoughts to blur. Your hands instinctively find their way to his chest, the rough hair gently tickling your palms. The pressure on your hips eases, and his hand tightly grasps your hair, enabling him to sit up and halt the rhythmic grind of your hips.
A soft whimper escapes your lips as the throbbing sensation between your thighs intensifies.  Loran's lips trail along the curve of your throat, delicately nibbling at your tender skin, while his tongue glides with ease. Suddenly, a tearing sound startles you and a rush of cool air caresses your newly bared legs. The remnants of your shredded trousers gracefully descend to the floor, leaving you vulnerable and exposed.
Upon the velvety fur, Loran tenderly positions you, his voracious eyes meticulously exploring the expanse of your body. In a swift motion, he removes the sole obstruction that conceals your body, leaving you vulnerable to his cravings. You clench your thighs, your pussy pulsating with emptiness. This man was sinful; he looked so delectable, his lips shimmering with the remnants of your passionate kisses, and his complexion adorned with a captivating flush.
He lets out a deep groan, settling himself amidst your thighs, the ache in your legs a mere whisper compared to the intensity of his touch, tongue dancing over your nipples, nipping and tugging. Loran's hand travels up your body, his thick fingers entering your warm, wet mouth. You suppress a gag and suck on them shyly, tears welling up in your eyes. As his fingers delve deeper into your throat, you grasp his wrist firmly, your hips grinding against his thick bulge.
Loran pulls his fingers from your mouth, watching the rivulets of saliva drip down his digits. Leaving a glistening trail of moisture along your body, Loran delicately caresses his fingers through the soft curls of hair on your pussy, teasing you with the soft touch of his fingertips. With deliberate precision, he gradually eases one digit into the confines of your snug entrance stretching you. You pull your fleshy bottom lip into your mouth, teeth digging painfully. Your lashes flutter, exposing the whites of your eyes as they roll back in blissful surrender, eyebrows arching. Your mewls are soft and pleading. "Mmph! L-Loran. Please "
Your voice is a siren's call to him, as you whimper and plead for him. His desire to possess you completely, to fuck you full of his cum, to have you swollen with his young, consumes him. The mere thought of it almost brings him to the brink of release. Granting mercy upon your adorable, fucked out face, he finally sinks his finger into your cunt, relishing the exquisite tightness that embraces him, while your delicate hands clutch his braid and tug.
  With his other hand, he gently cups your cheeks between his large, powerful fingers, causing your lips to pucker. His mouth descends upon yours, messy and dominating, leaving a trail of mingled saliva that pools down your flushed cheeks. He chuckles as your eyes wander elsewhere, glazed and hazy with pleasure as he eases a single finger inside you.
A high-pitched sound escapes your lips as he expertly probes a sensitive spot deep within you, causing your hips to tremble and your inner walls to clench around his fingers. Leaning closer, his warm breath brushes against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "Ayh lat naka ve cum, sma shara? " His mother tongue is foreign to you, but it sounds absolutely erotic, especially while he's stroking your drooling pussy skillfully. You shudder fervently, emitting mewls and whimpers, as the squelching noises of his thrusts fill the confined space of the tent. “I—uhn~ w-wait p-please, Lor…” You babble nonsensically. ( are you going to cum, little human? )
 Loran, in a teasing mood, complies with your dumb prattling, and moves away from you, fingers slipping out with an erotic pop. A soft whimper escapes your lips, your lower lip jutting out in a pout as tears well up in your eyes from the empty feeling in your pussy, your eyes widen at seeing him suck on his dampened fingers. “N-no, why’d you stop!” 
 With a chuckle, the Orc leans in to press a tender kiss on your flushed cheeks, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "I simply did as you asked, Faushnu," he whispers. Pulling back slightly, he studies your expression - your eyebrows furrowed, lips parted, and your chest rising and falling rapidly. "I did not mean for this," you whimper, grinding your hips against his growing bulge. “M-more. Give me more.” You give him a stern glare, that only turns him on more, his little hostage was so demanding. ( baby ) "Of course, Your Highness," he says, his tone dripping with playful mockery. Loran's large hands firmly grasp your waist, swiftly maneuvering you onto your stomach. With a gentle yet commanding motion, he elevates your hips, causing your face to be buried in the soft furs beneath you. The sensation is almost agonizing as your back arches, eliciting a sharp squeal from your lips. A glob of warm saliva unexpectedly lands on your moistened pussy, causing an involuntary clenching reaction. "What are yo--?" 
  Before you can finish, the sudden roughness of his tongue against your throbbing cunt has you seeing stars. His feral growls reverberate through the air, as his tongue delves and ravishes you with an insatiable fervor. Reduced to a whimpering wreck, tears of rapturous delight cascade down your flushed face.  Desperate to regain control, you weakly press your small hand against the crown of his head, attempting to halt the relentless onslaught. "No more, please, m'gunna cum. Want to cum for you," you manage to slur amidst incoherent babbling, your words a contradictory mix. 
Loran, enraptured by your musings, fingers your pussy once again, effortlessly finding that spongey nerve inside of you and deftly curling his thick finger into it, time and again. A torrent of scorching pleasure engulfs your entire being, as you succumb to an intense climax, your trembling thighs embracing his head while your pussy flutters around his finger.
" Loran! "You slur, thighs still convulsing as the feel of Loran's hands on the fat of your hips seems multiplied, your mind filled with goo. The rustle of fabric falling to the ground barely registers before his thick cock presses into your pussy, hands guiding your hips onto him. Warmth trickles onto your pulsing cunt, his saliva lubing where you connect. You clench around him, emitting obscene moans. 
   He delves deeper, your snugness yielding to his thick, heavy cock. You swear you can feel every pulsating vein, every ridge of him inside of you. You whimper and whine when he fucks half of his big cock into your tiny little hole, and you thrash and let out small mewls of pleasure. "Mmph, Lor--!! it won't fit!" you whimper amidst sobs. 
"Hm?" He utters, his voice a low hum, as he observes with rapt attention as you stretch around his green, monstrous cock. The pressure within your abdomen steadily intensifies, inch by inch, until Loran thrusts in the last couple of inches, his large balls flush against your engorged clit. You're already fucked stupid, pupils blown, and moans strewing from your lips. The Orc takes hold of your hand, guiding it towards your stomach, allowing you to feel the undeniable presence of his shaft protruding from your belly. "Do you feel me? Feel my cock in your insides, my little human?"
With a forceful motion, he retreats, then thrusts forcefully into you, his grip tightening on your hair as he pulls.  A fervent moan escapes your lips, as the resounding collision of his hips against your ass fills the air, the only thing you can hear. The wet squelching of your arousal intermingles with his precum, cascading onto the opulent furs beneath you. His name becomes a sacred mantra, slipping from your tongue like a fervent prayer. "S'good, m'gunna cum, let me cum, please, please."
With a gentle caress, Loran's hand ascends your stomach, pinching your sensitive nipples. You mewl, back arching as you clench and pulse around his thick length, cumming harder than before, a wave of darkness gently tinting your vision. A low, guttural moan reverberates from deep within you, harmonizing with Loran's unyielding thrusts. “That's a good fuckin’ girl.”
The Orc's hand comes down on your ass, observing the quivering flesh. Your violated hole trembles around Loran's thick length, and he snickers, his hips stuttering. "You're mine. Hm? Do you understand, pet?" His thrusts became more profound, faster, not giving you rest, groaning as you nod quickly, whimpering.
You turn your gaze towards him, his fingers constricting in your tresses. "Loran, want you to cum inside me, please." Your feeble arms emerge from beneath your form, delicate hands reaching to spread your pussy wider. "You will, right?"
 Your wanton plea hurls the massive Orc over the brink. Loran's hips slam into yours once more as his scorching cum coats your walls; the copious amount of it had you cumming once more. Loran continues to pump his seed into you, his cock still hard and balls full of cum. He longed to see you swollen with his offspring; he wouldn't stop until he knew you were trapped with him.
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You are not permitted to rest until the early morning, curled against his chest with his seed leaking from your stretched opening. Your body is tender, marked with bruises on your neck and chest. Loran places his large hand on your cheek; although he is running late for the meeting, he decides to allow you more time to sleep.
He lifts you gently, thankful that he has cleaned you up and changed the bedding. You snuggle into his warmth, almost convincing him to delay for another hour. "My zemar, it's time to wake up. We must rise before the sun sets." (my heart)
Stirring in his arms, your eyelashes flutter before you slowly open your bleary eyes. Attempting to close them once more, his hearty chuckle resonates, partially rousing you. Placing you gently on the bed, he drapes one of his shirts over you, guiding your arms through the sleeves. Loran picks you up again, cradling you as he carries you out of the tent, shielding your eyes from the glaring sun. The short walk to the other side of the campsite goes unnoticed by you.
He arrives promptly, his raven perched gracefully on its stand. A soft whistle escapes his lips, a signal for the bird to gather the troops. Loran takes his place at the head of the table, positioning you to face him, your legs wrapped around his waist. With spit on his fingers, he traces circles around your cunt, pleased that it had returned to its original state, tight and warm. After lubricating your entrance, he spits on his palm and wraps his member in a firm grip, ensuring that it's slick. 
  Loran aligns himself with your little hole and eases inside, emitting a deep groan at the vice grip; you let out a sleepy moan, tightening around him. His large hands grip the fat of your hips, guiding you down the rest of his thick length. He pulls his shirt over your ass, concealing where his cock is nestled inside of you.
He has to stop himself from fucking you on the table in front of all his tribe members. Once he had you in the perfect position, his soldiers began to file into the room. He couldn't help but notice how your warm, tight hole was becoming slick. Unbeknownst to you, his thick cock was already buried deep within you.
The meeting unfolds seamlessly. With nightfall as their ally, they conspire to dismantle the impenetrable walls of the Kingdom on the morrow. A sacred covenant governs The Mammoth Clan, dictating that the fairer sex and the innocent offspring shall be spared from any affliction. Thus, the innocent shall be granted mercy and protection.
Awakening towards the end, your pussy pulsating and enveloping something thick and long. A twitching motion stirs inside you, nudging your G-spot. A soft moan escapes your lips as you hide your face in his neck. Loran dismisses it as your mere awakening, soothingly caressing your back. Only a fool would miss the evidence of your arousal - the glistening juices trickling down your bare thighs and the hint of green meeting a clenching hole
" Dismissed. "
The orcs file out of the room, speaking amongst each other. Loran's gaze descends upon your petite frame, concealed beneath his garments. He looks feral. Once the auditory commotion subsides, you cautiously lift your head, locking eyes with his penetrating stare.
"Loran, please."
The Orc emits a deep snarl, his lips forcefully meeting yours as he firmly grasps the flesh of your hips, hoisting you off his slick member. Swiftly, he plunges you back down, thrusting into you with fervor, fucking you onto him. You're moaning mess, the spit from your sloppy kiss sliding down your chin and eyes rolling to the back of your head. The sound of wet slapping resonates loudly within the confines of the tent. With a gasp for air, you disengage from him, your hands finding solace on his broad shoulders.
 A particular thrust causes the swollen, mushroom-shaped tip of his cock to abuse your g-spot and your moan is shrill. You climax, your body trembling around him, leaving a creamy, ivory ring at the base of his cock. Stars burst in your vision as you weakly press your lips against his throat, whimpering as he continues to thrust into you, your sensitive and throbbing core tender. " Lor-.. no more.. s’too.. much!" you sputter, sloppily pressing your lips to his and sucking on his large tongue. 
Despite the roughness of his hips snapping into yours, he caresses your sides softly and pulls away from your kiss, licking his lips. "Be a good pet, hm? Let me use my pussy, can you do that for me? " You nod hesitantly, and he smiles, sending your stomach to unfurl languidly. "S'my good girl." You bury your face in his neck with a whimper, but when your blunt little teeth sink into his collarbone it pushes him over the edge; and he stands up with you still bouncing on his cock, thrusting so deeply that you hiss. Ropes of cum paint your pulsing walls, filling you up.
Loran's shallow thrusts ensure not a single drop is wasted as you envelop him in your embrace, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply.
Mayhap, the circumstance of being dispatched to this place was not as grievous as first imagined...
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angelltheninth · 2 months
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How Monster Boyfriends Make You Feel Good
Pairing: Vampire, Orc, Werewolf, Kraken, Minotaur, Goblin x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, rough sex, cum eating, size kink, creapie, blood drinking, tentacle shenanigans, knotting, period sex, mating bites
A/N: If you're wondering why I'm writing more monster stuff it's cause I've been reading a lot of it lately.
Your vampire boyfriend doesn't drink your blood by biting you when you're on your period, instead he comes inside of you and eats up the mix of your blood and his cum when your pussyhole when he pulls out, that way he cleans you up and gets a meal out of it
Your orc boyfriend knows you want him to be rough with you but he makes you hold still on his cock as your cunt adjusts to his size and girth, he's a gentle one when he needs to be right before he almost breaks you, almost
Your werewolf boyfriend knots you every time it's the full moon, that fat, bulbus part of his cock pushing, making room inside of you as he ruts into you from behind, howling at your joined release, your pussy spreading for him, on him
Your kraken boyfriend makes use of all the of your holes with his tentacles before his cock, he knows that being restrained and held down while being fucked by the structured tentacles will make your eyes roll back
Your minotaur boyfriend fucks you from behind while you are bent over against the wall, one of his big hands is on your hip, the other going from the jiggling meat of your ass to your front, your stomach where he presses down to feel every thrust
Your goblin boyfriend doesn't give you time to rest until he's spent, which can be hours and hours, you wouldn't think his short stature had so much stamina but he can't stop fucking you until there's no more room for his cum inside of you
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bucketsofmonsters · 4 months
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A Diplomatic Error
cw: enemies to lovers, kidnapping, being tied up, manhandling, size difference, non-human genitalia, oral sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex
male orc x fem reader
Word count: 9k
You were headed to another counsel meeting. You never really stopped attending them, despite the fact that they never listened to a word you had to say. 
Your father said it was good for morale. You didn’t understand how watching someone sit around and not help was good for anyone’s morale, but you knew better than to question him. 
The halls of the palace were quieter than you were used to. Almost everyone had been called to the front lines, even your closest guards had gone. You weren’t used to walking alone, nor were you accustomed to the typically lively castle looking like a ghost town. 
So now you walked through the castle halls, more alone than you’d ever been before, no one there to wait on you, to protect you, to watch over you. Something in you said it should have felt freeing. 
It didn’t. It just felt lonely. 
As you walked, moving slowly as you wallowed in self-indulgent pity between war meetings, a pair of hands reached out of nowhere, one snaking around your waist to pull you back into the shadows while the other clamped firmly over your mouth. 
When the guards had been sent away, you’d been assured that you’d be safe. It wouldn’t exactly be easy for a hulking orc to sneak in undetected. At least that's what you'd been told. With a massive hand that dwarfed your face locked over your mouth, suddenly the idea didn’t seem so ridiculous.
You thrashed under the figure's unwavering grip to no avail. He easily held you in place, barely needing to put any effort in to stop your desperate bid for an escape. 
You weren’t one for swooning but suddenly a faintness came over you. You reached up to grab at the only stable thing in reach, hands wrapping around the figure’s arm, trying to keep yourself upright. 
Your knees began to buckle and only then, mind slowed by whatever he’d dosed you with, did you begin to suspect foul play. Maybe something on his skin that humans were weak to, maybe something in the air. Was he holding a cloth? You didn’t think so. But then again, he seemed so far away not, even pressed up against you as he was.
You blinked your heavy eyes and when you opened them, you were thrown over a large shoulder. You watched the road behind you as the creature holding you strode along, still blind to what was ahead. His hand was wrapped around your waist, keeping you firmly in place, jostling you only slightly with each step. 
It took you a second to gather your bearings enough to start struggling. Once you did, you started pounding on his back. It was a futile gesture but you were nothing if not persistent. At the very least, he knew you were awake now. 
His shoulder shook under you as he chuckled. “Good morning, princess,” he said, his gravelly voice carrying across the road.
“Put me down, you brute!” you shouted, trying your best to kick your feet under heavy skirts. If you'd known you'd be getting kidnapped today, you'd have worn something lighter. 
He paused and for a moment you thought maybe he'd listen to you. But you knew better than that, knew you'd have no say in any of this.
“As you wish.”
Your feet were planted on the ground, although he still had a heavy arm on your shoulder, holding you in place. A silent promise: you weren't going anywhere. 
You whipped around, eager to see what was in front of you instead of the increasingly distant road you'd been traveling on. 
You got your first look at the front of your captor, no longer flung over his shoulder. 
Despite it being part of the little information you already knew about him, the first thing you noticed was that he was massive. He towered over you, with a broad frame to match. Tusks stuck out of his mouth as he sneered down at you, marring an almost handsome face. 
You’d never actually seen an orc in person and despite years of being at war with them, it struck you suddenly that they were real. They were real and in front of you, no longer threatening figures discussed in crowded rooms you weren’t supposed to speak in but instead a real man in front of you with his hand on your arm. It radiated warmth, applying a firm pressure that told you if he wanted to he could crush you underhand. 
In front of you, next to your very real captor, was a camp. The sort of camp you imagined soldiers slept in. You had no idea which side of the border you were on, disputed or otherwise. You hoped you were still in your own kingdom, but you had no way to know. It all looked the same from here. 
Amidst the massive canvas tents milled a dozen or so orcs. At your sudden appearance, they’d stopped what they were doing, all peering at their new guest. 
As they all stared at you, you panicked. Your feet started moving before your brain did. You managed to slip out from under your captor's grasp just in time to feel his hand dart forward, pushing you into the mud before you had a chance to get anywhere.
As you lay in the dirt, you heard something that sounded like orders being barked in a foreign tongue. 
And then you were being hauled to your feet. You didn’t have the presence of mind to be upset at the manhandling as you looked down at your body, the front of you almost completely covered in mud.  
You didn’t even have time to protest that before he cut you off. “Come on, m’lady. We have much to discuss.”
You crossed your arms, about to demand more respect from him before you were being lifted again and all you could manage was a surprised little squeak.
You watched helplessly as you were hauled into a nearby tent, all of the towering soldiers staring at you as you went. 
You were deposited less than graciously on the floor of the tent, left to flounder and find your bearing on your own as your captor moved to look at you. 
The tents were incredibly spacious, at least for someone of your size, the roof towering above you. 
He leaned down in front of you, tone condescending as he spoke. “Here’s what's going to happen. You’re a bargaining chip for us. We’ll get you home as soon as your father allows it, princess.” He said your title like an insult, spat it at you in a way that made you flinch. 
“And in the meantime?” you asked, trying your best not to look afraid. You'd make your way out of this with your pride intact. Well, as much of your pride as you could still manage to salvage as you stood there, covered in mud. 
You could barely see the deep red of your dress under the grime. You didn’t even know how much of it was from your fall and how much you’d picked up on the road. 
“In the meantime,” he said, “you will sit around until we need you.”
“Perfect.” You stood, futilely attempting to brush off your skirts as you did and taking a step towards the entrance of the tent. “Well, I should go find a place to rest until I am needed.” It was a long shot but you at least had to try.   
Your captor followed you as you backed slowly out of the tent. “I don’t think you understand what’s going on here.”
“What’s the harm in it? Where do you think I’m going to go?” you shouted, gesturing around you at the thick woods. “If I had a death wish, there are far better ways to satisfy it than getting lost in the forest. Attempting to kill you, perhaps.”
He nodded. “It would be more honorable, to die in combat against me.”
You groaned. “Yeah, sure, that’s what I meant. It’d be so honorable of me. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go find somewhere to rest, maybe even clean myself.”
You managed to make it about two steps before his arm wrapped around your waist, lifting you as if you were a ragdoll.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
The words were hissed into your ear as he walked. You thrashed in his grip but it didn’t matter, he hauled you along just as easily. 
You were thrown into a new tent next to a massive wooden pole, staked into the ground in the center. 
He leaned down next to you, grabbing your arm, easily resisting your attempt to pull it away from him. As he easily held your wrists in one hand, the other reached back to pull out a length of rope. His hands were surprisingly nimble, threading rope around your wrists and securing you to the pole at the center of the tent with little difficulty. 
When he let his hands get a little too close to your face, you bit them as hard as you could, locking your jaw down on him. There wasn’t any strategy behind it, you couldn’t escape or go anywhere, but the way he hissed and yanked his arm back filled you with a little bit of self-satisfaction. That had to be worth something. 
He didn’t stick around long after. It seemed you had managed to piss him off at some stage in the kidnapping process. You couldn’t imagine when. 
Your first night in the orc camp was spent restlessly, pulling futilely at your bindings as you sat there on the floor. You tried not to wallow in your misery. This wouldn’t be forever. Your father would get you out of here, one way or another. Until then, you could put on a brave face. 
As the sun began to rise, the orcs’ curiosity in you seemed to reawaken. 
Occasionally a soldier would peek in the entrance of the tent, never for more than a few seconds, or you would see them silhouetted against the canvas, hovering nearby. When you got particularly frustrated you’d shout at them, the snorts of laughter your yelling drew from them only making you angrier. 
But anger was good. At least anger felt productive. 
You’d become accustomed enough to the curiosity of the soldiers that at first, when your captor returned, you didn’t notice it was him. It was only when he strode towards you and began to undo your bindings that you realized who he was. 
The second your bindings were undone, you made a break for it. You didn’t make it far. Your captor held you by your ankle, dangling you upside down, your various muddied skirt layers falling to cover your face as you struggled. 
“This will be easier for you if you behave,” he said, and you could hear a layer of irritation in his voice. 
You would've spat in his face if there weren't layers of fabric hanging in front of you. 
His attempts to right you were thwarted by your thrashing until you figured out what he was trying to do and attempted to still yourself as much as you could, if only to get your feet on the ground again. 
“We’re moving,” he said as you steadied yourself when returned back to solid ground. “I can carry you or you can walk.”
You opted to walk, both to preserve your dignity and to attempt to plan an escape. 
The soldiers were shockingly efficient, completely packing up the camp faster than you’d imagined possible. 
And then you were on the move. 
You had to move swiftly to keep up with them, none of the soldiers willing to slow for you. 
Your captor stayed diligently by your side, occasionally shooting you looks that seemed intended to tell you you had no chance of escape. You ignored him.
After about an hour of moving quietly, out of breath from all the walking, he was the one to break the silence. 
“You’re slow.”
“Your legs are longer than mine. Besides, it's hard to walk when you’re covered in filth” you said, struggling under stiff, heavy skirts. 
“And who is to blame for that?”
You gave him a pointed look. “In fact, I think you’ll find that you are.”
“You shouldn’t have run,” he said with a grunt. 
“You shouldn’t have pushed me!”
He rolled his eyes and then you were being hauled off the ground again. You yelped in protest but were quietly a little grateful as he sat you on his shoulder. If you had to keep moving at their pace all day, dressed as you were, you might’ve passed out. 
It wasn’t your fault you couldn’t keep up with a well-trained group of soliders. If anything, they should be impressed you managed to keep pace as long as you did. 
Your hand rested on his other shoulder as he moved, trying to keep yourself steady, but realistically, you knew he wouldn’t let you fall, his arm holding you easily in place. You were just glad you were being allowed to sit this time instead of being thrown around like a sack of potatoes. 
You spent the rest of the day like that, sitting on his shoulder as they traveled. As the sun began to set and the others began to set up camp, you expected to be set down. 
It seemed you were wrong. 
Instead of placing you on the ground or even tying you up again, he began to pace off in the opposite direction of the rest of the camp. 
Nerves began to take over you. He may have said nothing would happen to you, but you did not relish in the thought of being alone with him, let alone him intentionally dragging you away from the rest of his compatriots. 
You began to squirm again and his arm tightened, holding you in place. “Settle,” he said, his voice low and calm. 
You did not listen. 
Eventually, he did set you down, although you did not think your thrashing encouraged him to do so. 
As he did, you noticed the sound of a swift-moving river just behind you. 
He nudged you towards the river. “Clean. You’re too slow.”
“What?”
“You wanted to be clean,” he said, nudging you again. "You should clean”
“It’s a river.”
He looked at you like he was worried you’d hit your head. “It is.”
“And you expect me to wash in there? It’s full of dirt!”
He chuckled and you considered biting him again. “You’ll survive, princess.”
You groaned but decided that anything was better than the mud you were caked in. It was running water, at the very least. You weren’t certain why, but it did feel a little cleaner that way. 
You considered bathing fully clothed but you’d heard too many stories of women drowning, weighed down by layers of dresses. 
You began to pull at your dress, stripping off some of the upper layers, glaring at your captor as you did. It was too much to ask to be left alone, you knew that much, but it was still humiliating to get undressed in front of him like this. 
You only took off as many layers as you needed to ensure you wouldn’t drown. You were almost fully covered but still, you felt exposed. 
At the very least, he seemed largely disinterested in what you were doing, only sparing you the occasional glance. 
You covered your chest as you moved towards the water. He looked down at you as you did, head cocked to the side. “What are you doing?”
“The skirts are heavy, I can’t wear them in the water or I could drown.”
He scoffed. “Little weakling. That’s not what I asked though, why do you hide? You’re covered.”
“I’m being forced to strip to my underwear, of course I’m covering myself.”
He stared back, clearly still confused, and you realized as you looked at him that the idea of being properly dressed was probably not the same for him. He was covered, but largely in leathers and furs, with far more skin exposed than you would ever have, even now in your underskirts. 
“Listen,” you said, trying not to be too antagonistic, as it seemed he was truly trying to understand. “It’s different for us. Especially for me, I’m supposed to be covered perfectly at all times. Maybe you should give me new clothes.”
“Why would I do that?” he asked dismissively. 
Any patience you’d been trying to put on for him snapped. “Sorry, I forgot you’re a heartless brute, I don’t know why I asked.”
And with that, you stormed off into freezing cold water. 
The mud caking your skin began to wash off as soon as you touched the water and you let out a sigh of relief. The river looked to be snow runoff from a nearby mountain, it certainly felt cold enough for it, but for now all you wanted was to be clean. 
You looked down as you scrubbed at your skin and your skirts and as you did, you realized the whites of your underthings had become translucent in the freezing water. 
You turned and caught him staring, both looking away as soon as your eyes met. You turned your back to him immediately, feeling tears pricking at your eyes, trying to cover it up with the water that was rushing over you. It felt like you had nothing left, like this was the ultimate humiliation.
When you turned back to look at him once more, he was gone, not making so much as a sound as he left. 
You weren’t foolish enough to think he’d truly left you alone, but you appreciated having at least the pretense of privacy. It was shockingly… kind? 
No. You pushed the thought out of your mind as quickly as it occurred to you. You would not start thinking like that, not about the man who had kidnapped you. 
You finished bathing quickly, the chill starting to set into your bones. 
As you waded out of the river, he was still missing. It was evident where he’d been, massive orcs weren’t exactly built for stealth, but still he was nowhere to be found. 
In his stead, you found a pile of clothes lying on the bank of the river. As you lifted them, the first thing you noticed was while they were far too big for you, they were too big by human standards. It was an old shirt, well worn, and a pair of pants you’d have to find some way to tie to keep up properly. They were slightly torn and upon closer inspection, you found speckles of a dark rusty substance splattered across the shirt. 
Someone’s blood. From who’s side, you’d never know. 
You tried not to dwell on what had happened to the owner of these clothes to leave them in the orc’s possession. They were yours now. 
They were far more practical than your fine skirts had been, even if they didn’t quite fit properly. 
As you pulled them on, you hesitated, holding your skirts. You didn’t need them any longer, but it felt like a waste to just leave them here. 
But you had no time for sentimentality right now. You cast them aside, opting to forgo your shoes, despite the lack of new ones. Your shoes from the palace were not exactly built for forests and rough terrain. They’d only slow you down. 
As you finished dressing, situating yourself in the unfamiliar clothes as best you could, you looked around nervously. You could find no sign of your captor amidst the unfamiliar foliage, but you had more than enough reason to doubt yourself. You felt lost amidst the thick trees surrounding you, it was hard to tell where you stood. You didn’t know what to look for or how to orient yourself, trapped in a foreign landscape. 
You did what you could, checking for any onlookers, peeking through the trees, and once you’d made your decision, taking off. 
You had no idea where you were, or where you were running to, but anywhere was better than here. There were surely search parties looking for you and even if you were on the other side of the border, orc civilians or soldiers who were unfamiliar with your status were a better bet than your current captors. 
As your bare feet pounded down on a floor of sticks and rocks, you tried to ignore how cut up they were getting. 
You were faster this way. That was what counted. 
You focused on moving as fast as you could, the determination drowning out the pain until suddenly, the sharp rocks and twigs were underfoot no longer. Your brain took a second to catch up, feet still moving down to try and push off of a ground that was being pulled further and further away.
“Predictable little thing,” said a familiar voice beside you. “What happened to attempting to best me in combat? I didn’t take you for a coward, princess.”
A frustrated scream escaped you, cutting through the peaceful quiet of the forest. 
Despite your protests, he continued to haul you back towards the camp, tying you up as soon as you reached your tent, a practiced routine for the two of you by now. 
You had the night to sleep off your anger before morning came and you were on the move again. 
Your captor did not wait before lifting you onto his shoulder and this time, you did not fight him. It was preferable to running to keep up with them, especially on newly damaged feet. 
It felt strange to sit there, without struggling or screaming, just moving in silence. So instead, you spoke. 
“Do you have a name?”
“Drakar,” he said. His voice was low but with your position atop his shoulder, it was easy to hear him, even over the bustle of moving soldiers. 
“Thank you for the clothes,” you tried again, wanting to start up any sort of conversation to break the silence.
He didn’t even grace you with words this time, giving you a simple acknowledging grunt in return. 
His answers remained brief, with no apparent interest in engaging in conversation. Eventually, you stopped trying. 
When you came to a stop and the soldiers began to set up camp around you, you waited for your chance. 
The second Drakar turned his back to you, you were off. 
Another orc caught you in a heartbeat, hoisting you off the ground until Drakar could come fetch you. 
He dragged you off with a huff, scowling at you as he set you down. “Why do you continue to fight and run? I’ve told you of our plans to trade you, you’ll fare better with us than on your own in the wilds.”
“I have no desire to be a bargaining chip against my own people. Besides, I’m no fool. I know good things don’t often happen to soldier’s prisoners.”
He scoffed. “Your soldiers, maybe. We have honor, unlike them. And you call us the monsters.”
“Monsters? Maybe. Uncivilized at the very least.”
“I assure you, your soldiers in my country are living in no more luxury than we are here.”
So you were still in your country, not yet over the border. If you could just get away, your chances were good. “Well, then they’re uncivilized dogs just like you,” you spat. 
He never seemed to find your outbursts anything other than vaguely annoying or passively amusing. Right now, he seemed inclined towards amusement, despite your latest escape attempt. It was for the best, that tended to work out better for you. It was irritating nonetheless. “Perhaps.”
Your enlightening conversation was cut short as a horn sounded, a familiar announcing horn. The sound of one of your people. Drakar’s head perked up and before you understood what was happening, your legs were being bound together, untethered but severely limiting your movement. You might be able to move like this, but you couldn’t get far. 
He did not feel the need to explain this to you or threaten you with hunting you down, trusting you to come to your own conclusions as he strode off in the direction of the horn. 
You might not be able to run, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t do anything. The least you could do was try to gather information, so you could be useful when you were saved.
If you were saved.  
You managed to scoot your way towards the back of the tent Drakar had retreated to, out of sight of any of the soldiers, just close enough that you could peek under the thick fabric of the walls. 
Drakar’s back was to you. You could barely see the messenger from your spot on the floor, his body blocking your vision. You could just see the tip of a feather, presumably stuck in a hat, bobbing as the messenger spoke. 
As you got close enough to listen in, you caught Drakar mid-sentence. “- does your king think about our terms for his precious daughter?”
You held your breath, trying not to get your hopes up. This was a war. They couldn’t just be giving in to the first demands given. This could be a long, arduous process. You understood that, would never blame him for it. The country came first. 
“The king rejects your terms.” You tried not to let it get to you. You knew this would probably happen, could understand exactly where your father was coming from. The messenger continued on, unaware of your quiet heartbreak. “Furthermore, he would like to close negotiations on this matter.”
You could not hold in the gasp that came at his words. You saw Drakar stiffen and knew he’d heard you, knew he’d figured out exactly what you’d been doing. A moment passed and he untensed his shoulders and continued on. You silently thanked him. You were in no state to face anyone right now. 
“What do you mean close negotiations?” he asked, and you choked back tears. 
You cursed yourself for putting yourself in such a tight spot. You didn’t think you could manage a quiet escape, at least not without being noticed, not in your current state, so instead you sat, a captive audience to a discussion of why your family had given up on you. 
The messenger cleared his throat. “We do not negotiate with beasts.”
“So he chooses instead to abandon his daughter with them?”
The messenger disregarded his words entirely, his voice squeaking as he cried out, “You creatures will pay for the loss of his daughter.”
“She is not lost yet. He is choosing that fate for her, not I,” he hissed out.
“I have said all I was bidden to say. Do you have a message for the king?”
“Tell him if I see him or any of his scrawny little messengers again, I’ll rip them in two.”
With a little yelp, the messenger retreated. Drakar stood for a moment, the sound of his heavy breathing filling the tent. 
After a moment, the canvas of the tent was lifted and your hiding place was revealed. You sat, crumpled, on the ground, bile rising in your throat. 
That was it. There was no one coming. 
He hauled you to your feet, undoing your bindings. 
“What did you ask for me?” you asked as he undid the ropes, keeping you propped up on him as he worked. 
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does!” you snapped. You needed to know what was so much more important than you, what you’d been given up for. “You will tell me. I’ve earned that much.”
“A full retreat. It never would have been taken, it was just supposed to be a start to the negotiations.”
“Hmm.” It was a ridiculous ask, obviously so. But to dismiss you completely? To not even try?
Drakar pulled you out of your thoughts with a question. “Would you even want to go back now? If I let you go?”
Your brows furrowed. “You can’t let me go. It would show weakness, show you’ll roll over if your terms aren’t met.”
“I know, it was just a question. So what do I do with you now?”
You shrugged. “You could kill me.”
“No. We won’t be doing that. I should have killed him, though. The audacity of them sending a little snot-nosed fool to tell me negotiations were over. I should’ve gutted him.”
“Why didn’t you?”
He spared you a look that said more than you were sure he wanted it to, rage and concern both written across his face. “I had other things on my mind.”
He tried to speak to you again but you’d begun to shut down. It was all too much, you could do no more. 
It didn’t seem too unreasonable a reaction. Your life had just ended, severed by your father without even a real rescue attempt. 
But even if you’d shut down, the world had not. 
And so it continued. Drakar seemed to have decided you were still useful somehow because every day you were hauled along with his troops, and every day you were given your own little tent. 
He didn’t keep you tied up anymore. It wasn’t because you’d become docile, you’d attempted many escapes and he’d found you and brought you back every time. You weren’t entirely sure why you were no longer being tied up. Maybe it was because you weren’t valuable anymore. 
You didn’t fully understand why you hadn’t been killed yet. What more could you do for them? 
As days passed, the grief lessened to more practical thoughts, thoughts about your future. What was there for you now? Why were you still here? What else could they want from you?
You wanted answers. 
You stood and stormed off. Several of the soldiers around you went to grab you until they realized that you were not headed out, but instead towards Drakar’s tent, letting you continue on your warpath. 
You started to shout as soon as you entered the tent and he whipped around to face you. “You should kill me. Why won’t you kill me? What do you want from me? Whatever it is, I won’t give it. I have nothing to give. I don’t understand what’s wrong with you.”
He watched your outburst with a level of amusement on his face that made you want to attack him. “Are you done?”
You ran at him, trying to claw at him, bite him, anything. He restrained you easily, pinning you against him, but still, it fed something in you, trying to do something.
You felt him chuckle behind you and if you weren’t pinned down, you would have attacked him again. 
“See,” he asked, and you felt the rumble of his voice through his chest. “You’ll be fine. You’re a fighter.”
“I will not fight for you,” you spat.
“I don’t expect you to. But you will fight for you. Nothing is over.”
He released you from his grip and before you could decide what to do with your newfound freedom, someone came crashing into the tent, armor shining a bright silver. He stood, ready to attack, sword in hand, but the second he saw you he froze. “You’re dead,” he choked out, words muffled through the metal of the armor. 
You didn’t have a chance to respond before Drakar had thrown him halfway across the camp, orc soldiers rushing over to finish him off. He didn't stand a chance.  
You stared at the spot he had just been in, processing his words, before slowly turning to Drakar. 
“What was that?”
“An attacker. A foolish little man.”
You shook your head. “No not… why did he think I was dead?’
“Princess, the whole world thinks you’re dead.”
You head snapped up to look at him. “Why?”
“Because I told them.”
You reeled back. “Why would you do that? I didn’t ask you to say that.”
“Your people didn’t seem to care.”
“Oh, thank you so much then. As long as they didn’t care, then it’s fine. You speak of honor and then do this. Why? To torture me? Make sure I have nowhere to go and ensure that I know I am not loved?”
You’d had enough of this conversation, turning heel and storming off without another word, set on putting as much distance as possible between you and them. 
You vaguely heard orders being barked to follow you, but that didn't stop you from running. 
It didn’t change anything. No matter how far you ran, you had nowhere to go. 
Drakar didn’t follow you himself, instead sending someone else to do his dirty work. A few orcs stood behind you, easily able to keep track of you and match your pace. 
You weren’t even given a full hour of feigned freedom before one of them had picked you up and started pulling you back towards camp. You fought them the whole way. 
You were set down in front of him, the whole process embarrassing. You straightened your ill-fitted pants as you desperately tried to regain any ounce of dignity. 
Despite your appearance, he didn’t seem amused. “You shouldn’t run.”
“So you saw fit to have me kidnapped? Again?”
“I had to tell them you were dead,” he said, pushing past your outburst.
You scoffed. “You didn’t have to do anything.”
“I have orders to kill you. The negotiations failed, my people wanted you dead. It was the only way out of this for you.”
Oh. There was no reprieve for you on either side. You’d known your father had signed your death warrant with his refusal to negotiate but now the orders had been given. 
“Then why am I still here?” you asked, your voice smaller than you would’ve liked. 
“It is not just. I will not kill you.”
“So what now?”
“No one knows what you look like,” he said, his voice soft and low. “It doesn’t have to be over.”
It didn’t matter. Both sides had condemned you. You had your life, but nowhere you could live it. “I have nowhere to go,” you said, sounding braver than you felt.  
“You’ll find somewhere. Until then, there’s always room for you in my camp. I displaced you, the burden of this wrong falls to me.”
You rolled your eyes. “And none of your men will send word that you’ve kept me here?”
“As long as they get to keep staring at you, I can’t imagine they’d mind.”
Your nose wrinkled at his words. “These are your honorable men? Letting me stay for the right to keep ogling me?”
“It’s not so odd. They’re fascinated by you, such a strange little thing.”
You supposed you were strange and foreign to them, as they were to you. But surely you weren’t the first, not with the combat they must’ve seen. “You’ve seen humans before.”
“Some of them haven’t. At least, not living ones that aren’t trying to kill us.”
“Who said I’m not trying to kill you.”
He snorted. “Well, you’re doing a piss poor job of it.”
“And if I stay? I won’t fight my own people, even if I was trained in combat. You’ll just carry around dead weight?”
“You’re hardly dead weight. I don’t even notice you up on my shoulder half the time.”
“You know that’d not what I mean.”
“I do. There are towns over the border where you could stay.”
You looked up, curiosity gleaming in your eyes. “They’ll take me? A random human?”
He nodded solemnly. “They will, if you wish to depart. If not… I am the reason your people forsook you. I do not regret it, I did what needed to be done, but I regret what has come to pass to you because of it. You’ve faced this better than I ever thought a human would. They’re cowards to have cast you out, I will not follow in their steps. It may not be what you’re used to, I am no prince and we are no humans, but you’re welcome to stay at my home. You will never be a princess again, that was taken from you. I took that from you. It is only fair to give what I can in return. It is not much, but it is what I have.”
You smiled, swallowing down the lump in your throat and willing away the misty feeling in your eyes. “Thank you. I’d love to stay, if you’ll have me.”
It was no great concession from you, you weren’t exactly drowning in options, but it felt like choosing it all the same. It was no less of a choice than your last home had been, born into it and forbidden to ever really leave. 
This was being offered to you. You were being given the opportunity to say no. To run. 
As much as Drakar had angered and frustrated you in the past week or so, you weren’t sure you’d ever been given this much respect. Real respect, not the fake respect of being placed in war rooms and told to be silent. 
You gave him a final nod and a smile, adding a curtsy that you pulled yourself out of halfway through when you thought better of it, tripping over your feet a little as you did. 
His eyes crinkled as he smiled at you and you wondered how you’d never noticed it before. 
You went to bed that night feeling lighter, freer than you were used to. 
As you left your tent the next morning, you almost tripped over a deer carcass left in your doorway. 
You backed away slowly, rushing over to Drakar’s tent. 
He was barely dressed for the day, the sun having only half risen past the horizon, and gave you a smile and a nod as he saw you rush into his tent. “Good morning, princess.”
You barely let him finish his sentence before you blurted out, “Someone left a dead animal outside my tent.”
He froze, his shoulders tensing.
You watched, waiting for a response and getting none, before adding, “Should I be concerned? It felt like a threat. Maybe they don’t like that you lied for me, that you're protecting me. Maybe they don’t like me like you think they do.”
“It’s not a threat,” he said with a swift shake of his head. 
“How could you know?”
He explained it through barred teeth. “It’s an orchish courting gift. You’ve caught someone’s interest.”
Your breath caught in your chest. “Oh.”
“Oh indeed.” None of the tension had left him and he made no attempt to hide his irritation. “It’s odd, an orc taking an interest in such a frail little thing.”
You rolled your eyes. He was clearly upset that one of his soldiers had become distracted with you, maybe even disgusted at the prospect of one of them taking interest in a human of all things. Clearly your bonding the day before hadn’t taken you that far. 
“I don’t know, I’ve heard I can be quite charming.”
He ignored your statement completely, shifting closer to you as he spoke. “You should stay close to me until I can find out who left it and tell them off.” He was being strangely protective almost, the disgust you’d assumed would be there instead entirely absent. 
“Why would you tell off my suitor? Surely I should do that myself. Besides, why do you even ca-”
Oh. 
The reality of why someone courting you would make him protective set in and you looked up at him with wide eyes
You couldn’t help the shit-eating grin that plastered itself across your face. “Well, maybe I’ll accept it. I’ve got no future now, it couldn’t hurt to have a big, strong orc husband.” 
He stood a little straighter as he understood the implication. “You seek protection?”
“Hm, I do, thank goodness I’ve finally found a suitable option, I was really starting to worry.”
Frustration flashed through his eyes as he realized what you were doing. “Fine, we should go find this suitor so we can tell him how graciously you’re accepting this courtship. I, for one, will be glad to be rid of you. Now you’ll be someone else’s problem.” 
“We should. Unless there’s something you’d like to say?”
His nostrils flared as he glared down at you. “Nothing.”
“Are you sure? Nothing on your mind? Nothing like, I don’t know, having feelings for the, what is it you keep calling me? The weakling you kidnapped?”
He avoided meeting your eyes as he spoke. “Your force of will is admirable. The odds were against you but still you fought.”
You fought the urge to coo at him, at how flustered he looked and how it seemed like he was forcing out every word. You had no doubt he would rather have left you an animal carcass. You preferred it this way. 
“I’m going to need you to be more direct than that.” Your voice was patient and kind and you could tell it was making things a hundred times worse for him. 
“I had intentions to look into human courting, to find something familiar for you amidst so many new things you’ve been forced into. But given the situation, I suppose I can just tell you.”
“Tell me what?” you asked. You were going to make him say it, you didn’t care how long it took.
“About my intention to court you.” 
You giggled at his pained face and he relaxed a little, looking down at you with fondness in his eyes. You wondered when that had begun. You wished you’d been paying attention enough to notice. 
“What now?” he asked. “How do your human courtships go? I will do what I must.”
You thought about it, amusement flickering through you at the thought of Drakar trying to uphold the proper etiquette required while courting a princess. But the courting process was long and strained and if you were being honest, you preferred the brutal honesty you’d been given here at camp. “Frankly, I’ve had just about enough of how humans do it. What about you? We can skip the dead animal bit, but what comes next?”
He looked you up and down, some gears turning in his head that you were not privy to.
“I will have to be gentle,” he said, before hauling you over his shoulder and bringing you over to his bed of furs on the floor. 
Your eyes widened as the implication set in. You’d been far from the perfect princess, having your fair share of trysts with guards and servants over the years, but this was a different beast. 
And then he kissed you and you stopped thinking altogether. 
It was desperate and urgent, his lips figuring out how to move against your smaller ones and you reached up, pulling his face closer as he set you below him on his makeshift bed. 
He ground down on you, clothed hips moving to meet yours. Your disparate sizes meant to do so while kissing you he was contorted at a strange angle but he certainly wasn’t complaining. 
He stopped kissing you, rushing to pull off his off pants, and his cock slapped against your stomach, thick and hard and hot and you wanted him inside you now.
But when it fell against you, it hit just above your belly button and you thought that perhaps your eyes were a bit bigger than your stomach.
He seemed to realize the impracticality of it at the same time you did, a hearty laugh escaping him. “Don't worry, princess, I'll get you nice and stretched out.”
You chuckled nervously. “I don’t know if stretching will be enough.”
He slid down, hitching your shirt up and pressing a gentle kiss on your stomach. “I won’t hurt you. If you’re not ready, that’s fine. There are other things we can do.”
He shifted both of you with ease, pulling you to sit on his chest as he laid back on his bed. You looked down at him, brows furrowed. “What about your traditional orc courtship.”
That pulled another laugh from him. “What part of this do you think has been traditional? The closest we got to traditional was when you bit me.”
You flushed red, recontextualizing the memory and wondering how many of the things you’d been doing to anger him had also been part of traditional orc courtship. 
While you were busy blushing, he’d set to work on your pants, wrestling them off of you as he easily manhandled you. You barely helped, halfheartedly kicking them off. You remembered how much you hated being picked up by him when this had begun and how much that had changed. You were loathe to admit it but every time he lifted and moved you so easily, something stirred inside you. 
As soon as he got your pants off you were pulled roughly forward, his hands wrapping around your thighs as he pulled you onto his mouth. 
He ate you out with just as much urgency as he kissed you with, wasting no time before sliding his tongue through your folds. 
His grip was unforgiving, pulling you down so all of your weight was on him. 
His tusks dug into your inner thighs and he seemed to pull you impossibly closer as his tongue thrusted up inside of you. 
Even his tongue was almost too thick, you walls stretching to accommodate it. You hands grasped at his hair, needing something to hold onto. 
His mouth locked over your clit, sucking hard before moving back to thrust inside of you again, hands rising to play with your sensitive bud of nerves as he did. 
As you began to fall apart above him, writhing against the onslaught of sensation, he only doubled his efforts. 
You arched your back, your thighs clamping down on either side of his head, hips shifting with the waves of your orgasm that suddenly overcame you. He was content to let you ride it out, grip loosening to let you have your control as you moans filled the tent. 
You came down slowly and it took a few moments to realize you were still sitting on his face. 
You moved to sit beside him on the furs as soon as you did, your face warming. 
You shifted your head to rest against him, staring down at his cock as you did. It was impossibly hard and practically pulsing with need, and you made a decision you hoped you wouldn’t regret. 
“You know, it can’t hurt to try.”
He sat up immediately, eagerness evident in his face. “You’ll stop me if it’s too much.” It wasn’t a question but a statement. 
You gave him a knowing look. “Of course I will.”
He shifted you, lifting you over him and you were happy to give over control. You trusted him.
It felt even bigger pressed up against your entrance than it had on your stomach and you took a deep breath. You waited but as nothing happened, you realized that Drakar was waiting for your signal. 
No nodded and he began to lower you, incredibly slowly. As it pushed inside, you knew the girth was more than anything you’d taken before, but it was manageable. The stretch bordered on painful but it was slow and careful enough that you had time to adjust. 
And then, as it went further and further, it became too much, 
You winced long before he’d bottomed out, about half of it inside you. It was bordering on too painful and you pressed your hands against his chest, shaking your head. “No more,” you said quietly, already weak from your last orgasm. 
He didn’t seem to mind, holding you steady as he pressed you close to him, muttering quiet praises to you. 
You slowly adjusted, not ready to take more but more than happy with what was already inside of you. 
You shifted your hips a little, pushing it against a perfect spot inside of you, letting out a quiet moan as you did. 
He put a stop to it fairly quickly, holding you still. “I think I’ll just keep you there. You’re perfect, taking me so well.”
You writhed, trying to get the stimulation you were becoming desperate for but he held you steady easily. 
So you tried a new tactic. “Want more,” you said, voice soft and sweet. If that didn’t work you’d try yelling at him, see how that fared. 
“Careful, I promised I wouldn’t hurt you. You damn humans, so fragile.”
“I’m not fragile, you’re just too big.”
“Excuses, excuses.” Despite his words, he began to slowly move, shifting out of you before pushing in again, careful to not push past the point where you’d stopped him. 
He moved you up and down like it was nothing, careful even as he began to speed up, hips shifting a little to meet you, chasing after your warm cunt as he pulled you back up.
His breathing grew shaky as he did and despite feeling overwhelmed with sensation, you fought to keep your eyes open, to watch him come undone. 
As his grunts became more and more unruly, your walls clenched around him at the sight. 
He immediately pulled you up, leaving just the head of his cock inside of you as he filled you with thick ropes of come. 
His breathing was ragged and his grip on you tightened slightly, pulling you even closer to him. 
He looked down at you, eyes softer than you’d ever seen them, before pulling you off of him and settling back with you resting on his chest. 
You made an absolute mess of him as he did, with no chance of keeping the frankly absurd amount of come inside of you. 
He didn’t seem to care at all.
“We’re making a mess,” you said, despite suspecting the objection would fall on uncaring ears. 
“You said you wanted an orcish courting, the mess is traditional.”
You weren’t sure if you were cut out for a traditional orc courting, already squirming as your thighs were coated in his spend. 
But his chest was warm and his breathing steady and you couldn’t help but settle into the comfort of it. 
“I'm gonna fit all of it someday,” you said, meaning it fully.
He laughed. “Brave little thing, aren’t you? Dreaming big.”
You snorted. 
“What happens now?” you asked as you snuggled further into him. 
“You reject that fool's advances.”
You hummed happily. “I will. I guess I’m lucky I caught your eye, don’t know if I would've survived this if I hadn’t”
“I meant what I said. I wouldn’t have let them kill you. It wouldn't be right. And you would’ve managed even without me. You wouldn't be the first human to sneak away to our side.”
That surprised you. “I wouldn't?”
He chucked, hands running through your hair. “You wouldn't. We're a more accepting group, I've found. Although you are a weak little species, we don’t have much use for you. You’re lucky you're pretty or I don't know if we'd put up with you.”
You scrunched up your nose. “You didn’t decide to court me because you thought I was pretty though.”
“No,” he said, like you both already knew the answer. “I decided to court you because no matter how many times we stopped you, you never stopped trying to run, to fight.”
You sat up with a sudden urgency. “If I said I wanted to go home, to my father, would you let me?” 
You watched the panic flash across his face and some selfish part of you hoped it was panic over losing you and not panic over the consequences that could come if you showed up alive after his order to kill you.
He sat with it for a while and you let him, in no rush to pull an answer from him.
Finally, he seemed to find whatever he'd been searching for. “I would.”
“Good,” you said, a smug feeling welling up in your chest, right beside the warmth that had begun to fill you at his answer. “Then I'll stay.”
He tried and failed to hide his smile. “Good. Does that mean you’re done running from me?”
You grinned, knowing full well it didn’t. What would be the fun in that? “We’ll see.”
“I’m sure,” he said as he shifted the two of you, wrapping you up in furs to protect your modesty before picking you up once more, with one arm under your knees and the other below your back, keeping you close to his chest. “Now, let’s get you cleaned up, princess.”
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Human Observation Log 192
Out of concern for our Human crewmate, I tried to warn them about the Nardian that just joined our crew. As you know, Nardian’s are highly volatile and will not hesitate to challenge even weak species to duel. They bath weekly in the blood of animals and come from a planet that is constantly at war. Their aggression is well known to all but when I informed our Human, Kim, they became agitated. They accused me of being ‘racist’ and expressed their ‘deep disappointment.’ 
I do not understand. I was merely concerned for their physical wellbeing. Kim left, declaring their intention to become friends with the Nardian. Human’s do not understand that it is impossible to befriend a Nardian.
Human Observation Log 192: Follow up
The Human has befriended the Nardian. His name is Greg. I have been invited to join them for red mud baths as a form of ‘self-care.’ I am beginning to believe Human Kim could befriend anyone short of an Android.
Human Observation Log 192: Follow up
Human Kim has befriended the Android and I understand nothing.
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what-if-i-just-did · 11 months
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So, something I learnt the other day. So, you know how dinosaurs supposedly can't see you if you stand still? Well that myth is based on real-life lizards/etc and how eyes in general work. So, once my dad starts infodumping, here comes some other cool information. We, humans, can in fact, also not see something unless it's moving. We fixed this by having our eyes constantly shake. And then our brain compensates for us, so we don't have to have shaky vision.
What if aliens don't have this? Like. What if they find out when one of us was looking at something in the distance, and they walk around this thing that's in front of them, and the alien is confused so they bob their head and oh, there's a thing there, but how did the human know that, and then we explain and they're like, horrified.
Humans are apex predators. They can hunt in packs. They can hunt in pairs. They can hunt on their own. They're persistance predators, which is unheard of. They get stronger when they're mad or scared. They have this thing called 'body language' which acts like a type of hivemind, even if they'll claim it isn't. And. They can see you. When you're not moving. They can still see you. If you ever find yourself in a fight against a human, for whatever reason? Run. Run as fast as you can. And hope, pray if you have a religion, that they won't follow.
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stubz · 6 months
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I saw a bunch of humans are space orcs, and humans are feared by aliens, etc. and want to add to it.
Kid centre for all alien children/younglings run by humans.
-"Human Kim! Are you all right? Do you seek medical aid??"
"I'm okay! ...why do you ask?"
"You just got bit by Zyz! I'm so sorry, I've told him to not do that with others but-!"
"Hey, it's okay. Look, these things happen and I know that's just your species' way of showing affection. Just tell him to ask next time and to not bite too hard."
"... 'these things happen' .... 'tell him to ask next- human Kim has this happened to you before?!"
"Oh lots of times! I used to work at a daycare on earth before this. Now, you wanna talk about bites let me tell you about Penny, she was a biter. So was my nephew but that was him stimming. I just asked that he get my attention first so as to not startle me."
"Is this the same Penee who gave you 3 stitches?"
"Yep."
-"Human Kim, thank you for helping Pollix become comrades with the other younglings! May I ask how you did it so I may use it in the future?"
"Of course! It wasn't anything special really, we just wrestled which caught the attention of the other kids and soon enough they were cheering for Pollix to win. Then after that Xw and a few others asked Pollix to teach her how to wrestle as well." they finished with a smile.
"YOU WHAT!"
"I-I thought play wrestling and fighting was encouraged among young tighalax. I am so sorry if I did something wrong-!"
"Human Kim, you could have DIED."
"...huh?"
"Tighalaxes have what you call drugs in the points of our tails and one cut should drive you insane. Not only that but we, as younglings, should be nearly twice your body weight. And at this age have yet to control our strength!"
"Ooh so that's why I felt high! Phew! I thought I accidentally ate my weed muffin instead of the regular one, and we can't have that."
"You felt 'high'?"
"Yeah but only for 10 minutes, luckily I usually just get tired and relaxed when high. And for the weight strength part, I grew up babysitting all of my younger siblings and cousins. My child carrying records are 5 4-6 year olds, 4 7-12 year olds, 3 teenagers, and 2 childish giants who are somehow 21 this year."
"...any chance I can bribe you to quit and come work for me and my pack?"
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skritzzy · 10 months
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I feel like any aliens that were prey at some point in evolution would have an odd fear of humans. Mostly cause they look like predators, act a bit like predators, and ARE predators. One perfect example is when we're focused on something like a mosquito that's been bugging us for a long time and we are just done.
Alien: "What. What..?"
Human: *HUNTING down a mosquito it saw*
Alien: ".... yeah I am really uncomfortable...."
Human: *quiet footsteps, pupils dialated, intense focus,*
Alien: *WAR FLASHBACKS*
Human: "Found you." *absolutely desimates the mosquito, squashing it into a million pieces as it's guts and various body parts liquidize into blood of the bloodthirsty, now stained on the palm of the human. A living being now reduced to a useless corpse as the human wipes the remains on their pants*
Alien: "I feel like I've just gained trauma."
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malady335 · 1 year
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Chapters: 25/? Fandom: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: original female character/original orc character(s), Human/Orc, Orc/Orc Characters: Original Female Character(s), Original Orc Character(s), Original Rohirrim Character(s) Additional Tags: brief description of assault, Rape Recovery, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Orcs Being Orcs, Cannibalism, Cultural Differences, Bigotry & Prejudice, Blood, Orc Culture, Post-War, Fourth Age, Orcs, Don't copy to another site, Blood and Injury, Moria, Isengard, Uruk-hai - Freeform, Goblins, Animal Death, Brief attempted assault, Childhood Trauma, Murder, Reverse Harem, Fourth Age (Lord of the Rings), Post-War of the Ring, Post-Lord of the Rings, Oral, Vaginal Sex, Hand Jobs, goblin/human, Vaginal Fingering, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Threesome - F/M/M, Bondage, Cuckolding, Dubious Consent Summary:
A group of orcs from different cultures and backgrounds are forced to stay together in order to survive post-war Middle Earth. They stumble upon a Rohirrim woman disposing of a body leading to a new element for their group. Will sparing this woman lead to their deaths or bring about their survival?
Status: Updates when chapters are finished(at least once a month)
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injuries-in-dust · 11 months
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There's the urban legend that some japanese companies will hire a "loud American." A person who is just there to voice complaints to the boss when others cant.
I had an idea today that alien ships might hire "The Human!" A person who is just there to just stand there and looks like the be the big, tough, indestructible threat of a being that the galaxy knows humans are.
Doesnt matter who the human is. Big or small, male or female, a tough soldier or more gentle than a newborn. They just have to be present and let the reputation of humans speak for itself.
Is the captain trying to enforce an unpopular regulation on the crew? Ask The Human to have a private meeting and voice the complaints.
Trying to sell some goods but the buyer wants to renegotiate the price to be more unfair to you? Ask The Human to be there at the negotiating table.
That jerk at the bar keeps pestering you with their mating display, because they want to be the one to fertilize your eggs wont take no for an answer? Ask The Human to escort you back to your quarters.
Not sure if the neighborhood where you're making the delivery is a safe one? Just ask that lovely human if they wouldnt mind putting down their crochet and coming with you. They might be extra thrilled if you mention they could take their pet with them, for a walk.
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finleyfenn · 6 months
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The devious, notorious Captain of the Orcs, fully defeated by a proud proper lady 😁
This gorgeous new art is by the amazing Sweets, and Grimarr and Jule are from my book The Lady and the Orc! I published it four years ago today, fully expecting that no one but me would ever read it... I'm just so grateful to all my reader friends who have made it possible for me to keep writing in this world ever since 💚💚💚
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silver-tangent · 5 months
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Sometimes I think about how the entire history of the advancement of human weapons can be boiled down to: “we found more elaborate ways to hit things with rocks…”
Spears? Sharpened rocks.
Slingshot? Ranged rocks.
Arrows? Sharpened rocks with range.
Hammers/Clubs? Refined rocks.
Swords/axes? Sharpened refined rocks.
Guns? Sharpened, refined rocks, propelled by explosives…
We discovered how to make explosives, and we fine tuned that technology to better propel refined and sharpened rocks at insane distances… we are still hitting things with rocks… we just became experts in the science of hitting things with rocks… The human race is basically just a “dump everything into geology” build…
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