#ORCHID

[zegalba]

[n1ght0f-nyx]

Best friends orc dad maybe??? 👀👀👀👀

actually loved this so much i finished writing in my uber

older! orcs bf dad! x fem! reader Size difference, age gap, best friend’s dad, soft dom, rough sex, protected sex, oral (f receiving), size kink, praise, dirty talk, possessiveness, manhandling, breast worship, teasing, overstimulation (light), power imbalance , slight degradation.

words- 1379 words

You hadn’t meant for it to become a thing.

The late-night drinks started innocent enough — just you and him, sitting on opposite sides of the couch in their too-quiet lounge room while your best friend was out of town with her mum. Her dad, Rhogar, had insisted you didn’t have to leave early.

“I’m not that tragic,” he’d said with a tired laugh. “One uni student staying over isn’t going to ruin my midlife crisis.”

You’d laughed too, pretending you weren’t aware of how hot he looked under the dull warm light of the lamp. Orcish strength still clung to his broad chest and forearms, despite the years. The grey at his temples only added to it — a rugged kind of worn-in beauty. His tusks gleamed when he smiled, but it was rare these days.

His wife had left six months ago. You’d overheard enough late-night chats to know it hadn’t been pleasant.

Now it’s the third night you’ve stayed late like this. Same couch. Same two glasses of whisky. You sit closer this time, not touching, but the distance is different. He hasn’t shaved. The stubble shadows his jaw. You try not to stare at the way his throat works when he swallows a mouthful.

He sighs, deep and slow. “D’you always drink like this with your other mates’ dads?”

You glance at him over the rim of your glass. “Only the handsome, ones.”

He snorts into his glass, but the corner of his mouth pulls up. “You flirt like a girl with too much free time.”

You lean in a little, daring. “And you look like a lonely orc who misses being touched.”

That stops him. His jaw tenses. He sets the glass down with a clink, then looks at you. Really looks. You feel it in your chest.

“That funny to you?” he asks, low.

“No,” you murmur. “It’s not funny. Just… true.”

He looks tired. But not the kind of tired that wants to sleep. The kind that wants to be wanted. Maybe that’s why, when his hand lands on your thigh, you don’t move. His fingers are warm, heavy, calloused. You breathe in slow and steady, even as your skin tingles under the touch.

“You should go to bed,” he says, eyes fixed on your bare thigh under the hem of your shorts.

You tilt your head. “You want me to stop?”

His thumb strokes up, slow, tracing the edge of your skin. “I’m twice your age, love.”

You lean closer, heart thudding. “And I’ve wanted you since I was legal.”

Rhogar groans, almost pained. “You don’t say shit like that to a man who’s barely holding himself back.”

“Then stop holding back.”

The next moment happens fast. His mouth is on yours, rough and starved. You drop the glass to the carpet and it rolls somewhere under the table. His hands grip your hips like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. You climb into his lap, straddling his thick thighs, and moan when his tongue licks into your mouth. It’s messy, eager — weeks of tension snapping like a taut wire.

He pulls away just enough to breathe. “This isn’t right—”

“Rhogar,” you whisper, grinding against the thick bulge in his sweats, “I’m not your kid. I know what I want.”

He growls low, his tusks grazing your cheek as he leans back in. His kisses trail down your throat, nipping and licking, until your head falls back and your nails dig into his shoulders. His hands tug at your shirt, and you let him pull it off, baring your chest with no bra underneath.

“Fuck,” he mutters, almost reverent, taking in your bare tits. “You’re gonna ruin me.”

“Good,” you breathe.

He doesn’t ask permission — not with words. But his mouth wraps around one nipple while his hand kneads the other breast, and you gasp, arching into him. His tusks press against your skin, grazing without piercing, and it’s enough to make you whimper. You can feel how hard he is under you — thick and pulsing, straining against his pants.

“I’ve thought about this,” you whisper, barely audible over your own panting. “Touching you. Wondered how you’d sound.”

His hands trail down to your thighs again, then slide up under your shorts and panties in one go. When his fingers brush over your soaked folds, he growls into your chest.

“This wet already?” he murmurs, rubbing your clit in slow, firm circles. “From sitting on my lap?”

You nod, mouth open in a soft moan. “Been wet all night.”

He slides one thick finger into you, then another, stretching you slowly. His breath hitches at how tight you are.

“Fuck,” he mutters, voice strained. “You sure you can take me?”

You smile through a gasp. “You gonna make me?”

He pulls his hand out and licks your wetness from his fingers. That alone nearly finishes you off.

“Get up, love,” he says, and you do, legs shaky. He stands, looming over you, and tugs the sweats down. His cock springs free — huge, thick, flushed dark and heavy with need. Your eyes widen.

“Holy fuck,” you whisper, blinking.

He chuckles, cocky now. “Still want it?”

Instead of answering, you drop to your knees on the carpet and wrap your hand around the base. He grunts when your tongue licks the tip, then presses a kiss to the underside. You take him into your mouth as far as you can go, drooling around him, gagging when he hits the back of your throat. His hand slides into your hair.

“Fuck, you’re a little mess already,” he says, voice strained. “You’re filthy for me, aren’t you?”

You nod, moaning around his length.

“Look at you,” he growls. “Best friend’s sweet little girl… on her knees for me.”

You pull off with a pop, panting. “I want you to fuck me, Rhogar. I want to feel you ruin me.”

He hauls you up in one motion, lifts you like nothing, and walks you to the bedroom. Tosses you onto the bed. You’re laughing, breathless and giddy. He kicks the door shut.

“You’re too fucking pretty for your own good,” he says, crawling over you. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

You tug him down by the shoulders. “Then show me.”

He tears the rest of your clothes off — shorts and panties gone in one tug. He pauses just long enough to grab a condom from the drawer (you’re both grateful for his post-divorce “just-in-case” stash) and rolls it on.

When he lines up and starts to push in, your breath catches.

He’s massive.

The stretch is delicious, bordering on too much, but you want it. Crave it. You wrap your arms around his broad back and whimper as he sinks deeper, deeper, until your hips meet.

“You okay?” he murmurs into your hair.

“Better than okay,” you gasp.

He starts slow, grinding his hips in deep, fluid strokes. His body covers yours, all heat and strength and scent. You moan with every thrust, legs wrapped around his waist.

“Fucking hell,” he groans. “So tight. You’re gonna make me lose my mind.”

“Good,” you whisper. “Lose it.”

His rhythm quickens. The bed creaks under you. The headboard bumps the wall. Your moans turn into cries, and his growls deepen, mouth pressed to your throat as he fucks you harder, deeper, rougher.

“You feel so good,” he growls. “So fucking good.”

You’re so close. The angle, the stretch, the friction — all of it builds fast and hot in your belly. Your nails rake down his back.

“Rhogar, I’m—!”

“I’ve got you,” he grunts. “Cum on my cock, love. Let me feel it.”

And you do — with a shuddering cry, your body clenches around him, white-hot pleasure rippling through you like a wave crashing. He groans as he fucks you through it, his own release following not long after, hips jerking as he cums into the condom with a low snarl.

Afterward, he collapses beside you, chest heaving, one big hand splayed across your belly. The sweat cools on your skin. You both breathe in silence for a while, staring at the ceiling.

Then, quietly, he says, “This doesn’t change anything.”

You turn your head. “No?”

He looks at you. “It changes everything.”

You smile.

“I was hoping it would.”

[oxalidee]

[khorazir]

Productive day today: mowed the grass in our apple-orchard (with a human-powered scythe and under the watchful eyes of a local cat – and I spared the wild strawberries and most of the wildflowers), then hiked back home part of the way passing through some meadows with a great variety of rare flowers and butterflies. I even found a late orchid.

I also found a nice shady bench for some fanfic writing, meaning chapter 7 of my Payneland fic The Case of the Stolen Barrow is finished and will go to my beta later today. I also worked on some drawings. I didn’t get started on my taxes, but hey, priorities, right ;)

[thunderstruck9]

Criss Canning (Australian, 1947), Three Orchids, 2025. Oil on board, 61.5 x 50 cm.

[historicalbookimages]

🌸 Lindenia Gand [Belgium]: Impr. F. Meyer-van Loo, 1885-1906. Original source Image description: Historical botanical illustration of the orchid Laeliocattleya x Pringiersi, featuring two large, detailed flowers in shades of light pink and deep magenta. The petals are ruffled with delicate veining, and the central labellum is a vibrant, frilled magenta with yellow and red striations. Broad, smooth green leaves accompany the flowers, attached to a sturdy stem. The image is set against a plain cream background, emphasizing the orchid's intricate form and coloration. Printed in Belgium between 1885-1906 by F. Meyer-van Loo, it showcases both artistic and scientific attention to detail typical of 19th-century botanical art.

[honeyluvsw]

orchid & lily pngs ! credit not necessary for pngs! like or reblog to use, don't repost as your own please.

[tragoidi]

[diaryofaleo]

when the weather is warm, my heart feels warm too. 🤍🧸💐

[afropearl]

style inspo

[zegalba]

Thilina Liyanage: Orchid Villa (2022)

[docces]

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀.⠀⠀⠀˚⠀⠀⠀⠀✿﮾᳜⡴⠀⠀⠀⠀.⠀⠀⠀⠀˚ ࿔

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀.   ⋆ ･˳ ⠀⠀⠀⠀. ⋆  . ⋆･. ⠀⠀˳ . ⋆⠀⠀.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀.⠀⠀𓈒 ᩧ⠀ ⠀ ⭑⠀ ⠀ׂ ❤︎ᩙ᜔ᝪ ּ⠀ .

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀*⠀٠ ࣪⠀⠀.⠀⠀orkhideya⠀⠀〜

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀✧⠀˖⠀⠀° ㅤׂㅤ ᩙ ⠀ ⠀❀ ⠀⠀ ˙ ⋅.��˳.⋅ॱ˙ * .

[oxalidee]

[aestheticofstars]

[sheiskindasweet]