#orc x gn reader

[flowersandbigteeth]

Looking for a saucy medieval tradition to weave into your historical romances? Have no fear, foot-of-the-gallows marriage is here! Basically, if a man was about to be hanged and a woman stepped forward and said “I will marry this man!” he was spared because it was was seen as like “oh, she’ll rehabilitate him so we don’t have to kill him.” Now, I heard this from tiktok, so I could be wrong, and it could just be a folk tale or something that rarely happened in actuality. Either way, it’s a cool troupe I think more people should use (and I myself will be using). I think it would work really well with Orcs and Elves!

This is such an intriguing idea! I had to try it. If you end up writing it, tag me, if you are comfortable! I'd love to see what you do with it ^_^

I keep getting Orc ideas, and I can't resist them *feral invasive Orc thoughts* （￣ ｗ￣）Ψ

Orc (Saber) x GN elf reader

Word Count: 6K

TW: discussion of hanging, bad mother, sfw Orc fluff, a bit of melancholy with a happy ending, nonsexual mention of private body parts in the context of bathing

“Goodness, what’s this all about?” you grumbled, clutching your basket closer to you as you made your way through the crowd. 

The stench of rotten vegetables and too many people lingered in the air. 

“It’s a hanging,” a helpful imp beamed, hopping on his tiptoes to see over the crowd. Why people gathered all around to watch someone die, you had no idea, but more importantly, the crowd was blocking your path home. Industrious vendors selling ale and popcorn wove through the throng to collect what coins they could from the event. In the capital, everyone had a hustle, and few left the chance to make some money at the table. 

“Out of the way!” You shouted, shouldering whoever was unlucky enough to be in your way. 

The voice of the city guardsman who was reading off a list of offenses to the crowd drowned yours out, but with a few well-placed shoves, you managed to make it to the front. You were looking around, trying to figure out how to get across the plaza, when you glanced up to see a familiar face. 

“It’s you!” you blurted as your eyes locked with the brilliant chartreuse irises of the Orc standing on the gallows. 

He gave you a wan smile, lifting his tied hands to wave at you. His straight nose was up in the air as if all the rabble around him should be fortunate to have the privilege of watching him die. The thick olive locs you remembered being long had been roughly chopped short around his ears. Still, even dressed in an ill-fitting prison jumpsuit, he had a regal air about him. His barrel chest was puffed, strong muscles peaking between the frayed fabric. 

“Fifty counts of robbery…25 counts of counterfeiting gold coins…seven counts of horse theft…”

The Orc you’d met before’s name was Saber. He’d helped you get your broken cart into town one rainy afternoon…, and then he’d also stolen your necklace, which you’d realized after he’d disappeared. 

“As per the King’s edict, If any citizen pledges to save this soul from the gallows by way of marriage, please step forth.” 

Though he was handsome, no one raised their hands to save him. Instead, they all booed. Judging by the rotten vegetables hurled at him, he seemed to have robbed almost everyone in the capital. 

“Aye!” you shouted, hiking up your pants to pull yourself onto the stage. 

The guardsmen’s eyebrows shot up when you’d straightened yourself.

“I’ll marry the sorry bastard.” 

“Are you sure? He’ll most likely rob you and run off. He’s better off dead.” 

“I have business with this one,” you informed him, snapping your fingers. “Come on then. Let’s get this over with.” 

The guardsman shrugged and jerked the noose off of his neck, a little disappointed. The crowd wasn’t happy either, hurling insults along with their vegetables. 

“Quiet! Quiet!” the guardsman shouted after shoving Saber forward for the “ceremony.”

He took a deep breath, jerking a notebook out of his pocket.

“Alright,” he began, snorting. “State your name for the record.” 

“(Y/N).”

“Lovely elven name,” he murmured as he jotted it down. “Now then, do you (Y/N) take this here, criminal, Saber Wintermaple to be your lawfully wedded husband?” 

You gave him a sharp nod. 

“I do.” 

He swung a lazy eye at Saber. 

“Do you Saber Wintermaple, take this kind elf to be your betrothed?” 

He gave you a bright smile. 

“I do.” 

The guardsman snapped the book closed, shoving Saber towards you. 

“I hereby declare you two duly betrothed under the King’s law. This Orc is your problem now, citizen. You’d better keep him out of trouble, or you’ll be up here next to him!”

He handed you the thick rope looped around the binding, keeping Saber’s hands tied, and waved you two off. The audience, bored without bloodshed, had already started dispersing, making it easy for you to tug Saber towards the road leading to the forest. 

“I didn’t know I made such a pleasant impression,” Saber said cheerfully, following you out of town.

You whirled around and jammed a finger in his face. 

“I wouldn’t describe it as pleasant. You owe me a gold necklace! Give it back, or you can work off the coin you owe me!” 

He chuckled.

“I’m fresh out of coins, little elf.” 

He scratched his chin and looked up, thinking. 

“I’m pretty sure I lost that necklace in a game of dice.” 

He shrugged. 

“You lost my only possession of any value in a game of dice?” 

You scrubbed your hand over your face, counting back from ten so you didn’t explode.  

“Maybe I should have let you die.”

Frowning, you looked over him from toe to head. 

“At least you look strong enough. I’m sure I can find something useful for you to do!” 

You stopped where the two of you stood in the middle of the trail and pulled a small charm from your basket. 

“I was going to use this on my coin purse since there was a thief on the loose, but it’s probably better applied to you!” 

You looped the charm around his neck, closing your eyes to whisper the spell. A gust of spirit wind, fluffed your hair as the magic twirled around Saber. When you opened your eyes again, there was a blue thread linking the two of you that only you could see. 

“What was that?” he asked, narrowing his eyes on you. 

“It’s a binding spell, so you can’t run off with my stuff again,” you explained.

His eyebrows jumped, and he tugged at the little talisman around his neck. 

“It won’t come off.” 

You nodded proudly. 

“Exactly.”

He took a moment to examine you carefully, tapping his chin again. 

“Interesting,” he murmured.  

“What? What does that mean?” 

He smiled and shrugged.

“Lead the way, spouse.” 

You sighed, turning and pulling him through the bumpy trail in the woods to your little home. When you’d fled your homeland to the Capital, you’d been lucky to find an abandoned cottage outside the city walls. It wasn’t massive, with only the basic living quarters, but it must have at some point belonged to someone’s Saber’s size, as the door and counters were much too high. You’d spent much of the money you earned selling charms and ointments, buying stools and ladders to reach things. 

“You poor thing,” Saber sighed as you passed through the magic barrier you’d cast to keep your home hidden from bandits.

“You don’t need to patronize me,” you huffed. “You’re the one almost hanged and run out of town.” 

He ignored you, looking around. 

“I feel kind of bad for stealing your necklace now that I’ve seen where you live. This place is a mess.” 

You examined your home, trying to see it through his eyes. Every available surface was covered in books, alchemy equipment, or ingredients. Even the chairs were covered in cast-off scrolls, books, or charms. 

“It’d be nice to have a workshop,” you admitted. “But that’s much too expensive.”

You straightened your slumping shoulders and lifted your chin. 

“No matter, you won’t be spending much time sitting down. I’ve got loads of things that need doing.” 

He gave you a sharp nod and held out his hands. 

“You’ll have to untie me if you want me to work.” 

Pulling a small blade from your basket, you sawed through the thick binding. Free to move as he pleased, he wrung his stiff wrists as he perused your living room. Occasionally he would pick something up, then put it down again, finally crouching to examine a bucket filled with water. 

“What are you doing?” 

He peered up at the leak in the roof that was letting rainwater drip through. 

“This needs fixing, or the roof will rot out.”

Pushing off of his knees, he turned to you. 

“How long have you been living alone?” 

You blushed, embarrassed. 

“I dunno, my whole life, I guess. The elven town where I came from didn’t have an orphanage or anything, so when I was old enough, I took off toward the capital. It took a while to get here…but here I am. I thought there would be more…I don’t know…opportunity here.” 

“How has that worked out for you? Living in a house clearly not meant for you and marrying a man on the gallows.” 

You gave him an indignant snuff. 

“At least I’m not a thief!” 

He chuckled, leaning against a bookshelf, rolling a gold coin on his knuckles. Your eyes narrowed on it, and you reached in your pocket to find you’d been relieved of your day’s earnings. 

“Hey! You stole that!” 

He laughed, revealing straight white teeth, and jingled the other coins in his pocket. 

“Don’t worry, I can’t get away with it, right?” 

You sucked in a deep annoyed breath. 

“I have things to do. Make yourself useful and chop some wood. It’s going to be cold when the sun sets.” 

“Whatever you say, spouse,” he replied, giving you a sarcastic salute as you dropped your basket and hurried to the kitchen to get started on dinner. 

What had you been thinking marrying a criminal? You paused for a moment, eyes growing misty. You didn’t really think he still had your necklace, did you? You let out a sigh just short of a sob. Were you really that lonely? Maybe it hurt that he’d been so kind to you, just to trick you. You should have been happy to see him hanged, yet the lingering magic that followed all elves had whispered that you ought to save him. 

But why? You weren’t in any position to support a husband. Though you’d instructed yourself on the knowledge of various potions and charms, you weren’t the only one. The city was teaming with Academy-bred alchemists who far surpassed your skill. They had access to rare ingredients and an army of assistants. You had to scrape out a living selling your wares far cheaper than the competition even to get noticed at the market. Hustling day to day, you certainly didn’t have the time or money to pretty yourself up to find a partner. 

“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” you grumbled, returning to chopping tubers for soup. 

A thick THWACK, drew your eyes out the kitchen window to Saber splitting logs across the lawn. He’d divested himself of his ratty shirt, and every thick muscle was on display as he lifted the ax over his head and dropped it down again. The logs felt apart like they were nothing more than twigs under his might. 

Your eye focused on the dark, wet slashes across his shoulder blades where his jailors had beaten him. He must have felt your eyes on him because he glanced up and waved. Blushing, you hurriedly pulled the curtains, returning to your task. 

Unable to get his injuries out of your mind, you felt bad for making him chop wood while he was hurt. When you’d plopped the tubers into your cooking pot, you gathered up some healing and numbing salves, making your way out the door. 

“Need something?” he asked, looking up from his task. 

“Sit down,” you barked. 

A thick eyebrow rose, and he tipped his head. 

“Why? Planning on lobbing my head off?” 

You wrinkled your nose at him. 

“No, of course not! You’re massive. How would I even go about burying your body? I can’t have a rotting corpse stinking up the place. Just sit!” 

He leaned his axe against the stump he was using to brace the wood and sat down on it. You dug in your basket, pulling out some cleanser to clean the wounds. Beside the big ugly gashes, Saber’s skin was a smooth, pretty green, the planes of his muscles sharp and defined. The first brush of your hand on his back made him jump. 

“S-sorry,” you muttered.

“‘Ts fine. Just not used to people touching me. Go on.” 

You spread the thick gel you used carefully over each angry line. 

“What do you mean? You’ve never had a partner before me?” 

He paused for a moment before he jerked his head. 

“I had a girlfriend once, but she left me.” 

“Why?” 

“Some noble offered her his hand and well…I couldn’t compete.”

He sighed. 

“She was happy to keep me on as her side piece, but I’ve got too much of an ego to be someone’s toy.” 

Your eyebrows jumped at his candor, but you just hummed, plastering clean wraps to his skin so the wounds could heal. His skin was warm under your fingers, making the tips tingle. When you were done, you found yourself tipping forward on your toes to peck the back of his neck. When you’d realized what you’d done, your ears burned, and you coughed loudly. 

“Sorry, ah…sorry,” you muttered, unsure what to say. “You’re…ah…going to have to sleep on your stomach, so you don’t make these worse.” 

He swiveled around to look at you, smiling. 

“Thanks, doc!”

“I’m not a doctor.” 

He shrugged. 

“What’s the difference?” 

“Ten years of special-”

You shook your head, realizing he was teasing you.

“I think that’s enough wood for tonight. Come inside. Dinner’s almost ready.” 

He grinned at you, his stomach grumbling, as he scooped up some of the wood he’d cut and tucked it under one arm. You wondered how much they let him eat in prison, worried he was starving. 

“What’d my sweet little spouse cook for me?” he asked. 

“Just some sweet potato soup. It’s not gourmet.” 

He frowned. 

“No meat?” 

You blinked at him. 

“You have all the money I made today in your pocket. How can I afford meat with those few coins?” 

He nodded, appearing to be thinking through the problem thoroughly. 

When you returned inside, you dipped the two of you bowls of soup, filling his twice as much as yours. You assured yourself it was because he couldn’t work without proper nutrition, not because you liked him. 

“So how far does this magic thingie let me go?” he asked as you sat down at the table. 

“Why, trying to run off?” 

He smirked. 

“No, why would I want to run away from you?” 

He chewed on a big spoonful of sweet potatoes before he continued. 

“I’ve got a cute little spouse who makes me dinner and kisses my cuts.” 

Your cheeks blew up in flames, and you choked on a mouthful of soup. You tried to retain your composure by quickly wiping your mouth with a napkin. 

“A couple of miles in any direction.” 

“Wow, didn’t think you’d give me such a long leash.” 

You shrugged. 

“I can’t be right at your side every minute.” 

He gave you the biggest puppy dog eyes you’d ever seen. 

“You don’t want me by your side every minute of the day?” 

Unsure if he was joking or not, you jerked your spoon at his soup. 

“Let’s…stop talking for a while. Eat up. You’ll need your strength.” 

While the two of you ate quietly, you did your best to keep your eyes on your bowl. Every time you happened to glance up, he was watching you with an odd smile on his face. Almost like satisfaction. 

You were relieved when you finally finished and could turn your back on him to rinse the dishes. 

“You can take the bed if you want,” you called over your shoulder as you stood on your tip toes to return the bowls to the cabinet. As your arm stretched, Saber appeared behind you, plucking the dishes out of your hand and easily placing them where they were supposed to go. 

“Where are you going to sleep?” he asked, extending a hand to help you off of the little ladder you were perched on. 

“There’s a couch in the living room.” 

He wrinkled his nose. 

“It’s covered in stuff.” 

You shrugged, trying to hurry past him. 

“I’ll clean it up.”

You found your feet swinging in the air as he picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder. 

“Wh-what are you doing?” 

“My spouse is not sleeping on the sofa. I never thought I’d have a spouse, so I’ve got to take proper care of you.” 

He patted your butt for emphasis. 

“Are you crazy?” you snapped, only not banging on his back with your fists because he was injured. “We can’t sleep together! We just met!” 

Your body bounced on his shoulder as he chuckled. 

“You weren’t concerned with that when you insisted on marrying me!” 

“They were going to kill you!” 

He flopped you down on your bed, caging you in with his big arms. His head dipped to drag the tip of his nose along the length of your neck. 

“So you do like me!” he whispered into your skin. 

“I do not,” you huffed, pushing his chest.

Though your muscles did nothing to move him, he rose so you could scoot out across the bed. You quickly scrambled into the bathroom to change into your pajamas. 

When you came back out, Saber was slipping off his pants. 

“What are you doing now?” You gasped, cheeks heating at the sight of the thick shaft hanging between his legs.  

He glanced up, a slight smirk on his face as he folded his clothes. 

“I can't sleep in these prison clothes. I'll get the sheets all dirty!” 

You sighed, rubbing your eyes. He was right. He was filthy from sleeping on dirty straw in prison. 

“Come on,” you said, flicking two fingers at him. “You need a bath. You’re probably covered in fleas! 

Fortunately, your house came equipped with one large enough to fit Saber’s big body. With a flick of your fingers, the tub was filled, and with a few whispers of a spell, the water was hot. 

“Get in,” you said. 

Making himself comfortable, he looked back at you over his shoulder, an eyebrow raised. 

“You tryin’ to watch? Naughty little elf!” 

You let out a long sigh. 

“No, I’m just going to ensure you don’t get your bandages wet, or it will all have been a waste. Supplies are expensive,” you huffed, picking up the sponge. “Now, sit still!”

Saber smirked but let you lift each of his arms as you scrubbed him. 

“So how did your old girlfriend take it when you decided you wouldn’t be your affair partner?”

He glanced at you, eyes ever thoughtful. His long look brought heat to your cheeks. 

“Sorry, you don’t have to answer that.” 

He shrugged, his jaw tightening. 

“She was rather smug. She spent her whole life wishing to elevate herself.” 

A long sigh slipped past his lips. 

“I could never make her happy. I lied, cheated, stole; whatever I could do…but she looked down her nose at all of it.”

Your mouth fell open. 

“I’m…I’m sorry. You don’t have to…”

He waved a thick hand, his warm palm gently landing on your head and lightly ruffling your hair. 

“Think nothing of it. It’s kind of nice to get it off my chest.” 

“So that’s why you're a crook? To make her happy?”

He smirked. 

“I was a crook. Now I’m a married man. I can’t get into trouble. I have a spouse who relies on me.” 

He pinched your chin. 

“Prison was difficult enough without knowing I was missing out on such a cute little face. Now, it would crush me.” 

Your cheeks burned even hotter, and you jerked your head away, grabbing the nearest towel and tossing it to him. 

“Careful, don’t jostle your bandages,” you wheezed before making your escape. “Whoever lived here before left some clothes in the chest by the door. They ought to fit.” 

You were so busy slowing your beating heart that you blew out the lantern and slid into your bed without thinking Saber would soon follow. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to feign sleep, when you heard his heavy footsteps approach. He paused for a moment, doing Goddess knows what, before he carefully laid down next to you. 

The mattress dipped under his weight, and your body slid into his. You heard him draw in a sharp breath as your warm forms pressed together. 

“Mind your wounds. Make sure you sleep on your side,” you whispered into the darkness. 

You felt him adjust slightly, and then a heavy arm draped over your waist. Despite yourself, it was warm and the weight felt nice. Comforting. Now that he’d used your soap, he smelled like home. His breath brushed the hairs on your neck and another arm slid underneath you to use as a pillow. You would have pulled away, but you’d never slept so close to someone before. 

Living on the street for most of your life, left you with scars. You didn’t realize how deep they’d cut you until Saber’s large body curled around yours. You felt safe. 

When you woke the next morning, the bed next to you was empty. Your heart thumped heavily in your chest, wondering where he’d gone. Had it all been a dream? 

The pile of dirty prison clothes folded and placed on top of a chest proved that it had not. 

Breathing slowly, in the meditation you’d taught yourself, you stretched your awareness out, reaching for the blue thread. Saber was half a mile from you. You wondered what he could possibly be doing. 

“Orc things, probably,” you muttered, making your way to the bathroom to clean yourself up. 

It wasn’t like he could run off; there was nothing in that direction but trees. Through the window, you could see the sun up over the tree line, telling you that you’d slept much later than usual. 

Usually, you’d have left at sunrise to sell your wares in the Capital market, but it was far too late now. Instead, you grabbed an apple from the kitchen and started fussing with your alchemy materials. Now that Saber was living with you, you were sure you needed to straighten up so he didn’t break something. 

Walking across the room, you automatically skipped around the bucket on the floor; only the bucket was gone. You frowned, but looking at the ceiling, someone had replaced one of the boards with a fresh one. Had Saber done that while you were sleeping? 

You huffed, returning to straightening your books. At least he’s putting himself to work. 

You were trying to remember the order in which a pair of books written in ancient elven were arranged alphabetically when the bell above your door jingled. 

Since your home was hidden with magic, the bell told you someone was nearby. It was a charm you rarely used. No one had any reason to look for you. The most it had rung was when you ordered a special cauldron or tomb and happened to have the cash to have it delivered. 

Curious if a traveler was lost, you put your books down and wandered outside. 

“Morning, spouse!” 

Saber’s voice made you jump when he appeared hauling a deer on his shoulders. 

“What’s that?” 

He shrugged the creature off of his shoulders. 

“Meat!” he announced proudly. 

You nodded at him, your eyes catching on his bare chest, glazed with a sheen of sweat. 

“Where are you off to?” he asked. 

“Someone is here,” you murmured, forcing your gaze from the sharp planes of his muscles to continue down the path. 

A shadow draped over you, and you glanced up to see him looming. 

“What are you doing?” 

“I’m going with you. It could be someone dangerous.” 

You shook your head but continued on your way with him in tow. 

“Helloooo? Helllloooo?” 

A female voice was screaming through the trees. When you rounded the bend, your eyes landed on an expensive carriage and a beautiful fairy shouting at the top of her lungs.  Her pink hair fell in glittering curls around her shoulders, and matching wings emerged from her back.

“Damn it! Saber! Where the fuck are you?” 

“Can I help you?” you asked as you stepped through your magic barrier. 

Her eyes narrowed, but not on you. She looked directly behind you. 

“Saber! There you are!” 

She grinned, fluttering her winds and flying past you. Irritation immediately pricked your heart as the woman threw her arms around him. Turning around, you found him looking at her with wide eyes. 

“Melody…what are you doing here? How did you find me?” 

“I’m here to see you, of course. I heard you were going to be hung, but an elf saved you! I asked around the market and was told you’d been taken here. I was so worried!” 

When she cupped his chin with her delicate hand, you crossed your arms, eyes narrowing. 

“Not someone. Me.” you interjected. 

You marched towards Saber and grabbed him by the arm. 

“Saber is my husband. Who are you?” 

She wrinkled her nose at you, ignoring your question. Her hand slid down Saber’s chest despite you. 

“Is there someplace we can talk? Privately?” 

Saber’s shocked face tightened. 

“I don’t think that’s an appropriate ask in front of my spouse, Melody.” 

She scoffed. 

“You’ve been married…what? 8 hours? Saber, I think I more than deserve a little of your time. Especially as the mother of your child.” 

Your jaw dropped, and your hand pulled away from Saber. It was true, you’d only known him for a few hours, but a child was something he ought to have mentioned. 

His brow drew, looking between you and her. 

“What child?” 

She huffed, frowning at you. 

“Fine…If you must do this, this way.” 

She turned to the carriage and yelled. 

“Nora, bring the baby!” 

A maid climbed out of the carriage holding a small whimpering bundle. You gasped as the woman presented Saber with a little green newborn. 

Saber’s eyes popped, his mouth opening and closing as the maid pressed the child into his hands. 

“This…he…is mine?” 

Melody nodded. 

“Yes, and it’s time for you to take responsibility.” 

He glanced up at her. 

“You want to get back together?” 

She let out a cruel but trilling laugh. 

“Oh heavens no. I need you to take him. Dante hasn’t seen him yet. He thinks I’ve delivered his child. I had the maids tell him I was recovering for the past month so I could sneak him out. If he finds out I’ve been carrying your baby this whole time, he’ll throw me out on the street!” 

Anger roiled under your skin. 

“So what baby are you going to present to him?” you demanded. 

She snorted as if that were a foolish question. 

“I’ll get a baby from the slums. Plenty of mothers would happily give their child the life of a Lord’s son without question.”

She fluttered her iridescent wings. 

“It only need be a fairy child.” 

You could see the pain and confusion settle on Saber’s face. Stepping between the two of them, you gently pried the bundle out of Saber’s hands, looking at his cute little button nose and glossy baby curls. 

“Of course, we will take him, but on one condition.” 

She glanced at you. 

“What do you want? Money?”

You let out a tight chuff. 

“No. We never want to see you again. If he is our baby, he is ours. Don’t think you can change your mind and come running back here looking for him or Saber. The second you step foot in your carriage, this child and my husband are dead to you.” 

Her eyes jerked to Saber. 

“Saber. You can’t mean that. Of course, I want to see you…Dante, however, can’t know. You understand, don't you? This is everything we've dreamed about! You ought to support me!"

You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

"I grew up in the gutter, too," you hissed. "But I'd never treat someone the way you have treated my husband. He is too good for you and I won't tolerate you buzzing around us like a nasty fly."

She glared at you.

"He's my child! You're just jealous Saber and I have history!"

Saber's jaw locked, and he put his arm around you, giving her a disgusted grimace. 

“Have you named him?” he asked. 

She looked contrite but lifted her chin. 

“I…ah…it didn’t occur to me...” 

He nodded and glanced down at you, holding his child. 

“Then…I agree with (Y/N). You’ll never know his name. You’ll never see him grow. You’ll never return to ruin our peace.” 

“But Saber-” 

“Don’t say my husband’s name, either.” you snapped. “You thought you’d come here and drop all of your responsibilities in his lap and then keep stringing him along as a toy? It’s not going to work like that. You have your family, and we have ours.” 

You jerked your chin at her. 

“Make your choice. Either leave the child or be prepared to explain to your husband who he belongs to. Those are the only options.”

Her pretty face contorted into an ugly, wrinkled mask, and she lifted her skirt to turn on her heels. 

“Fine! It’s not like I want the child of a thief anyway!”  

Snapping at her maid, she hovered back to her carriage, and they disappeared down the road in a cloud of dust. You smiled down at the little baby, who’d managed to sleep through the drama. 

“Saber, I know I shouldn’t have spoken for you…I just- He deserves better than to grow up with the knowledge his mother believes him to be less than. Can you imagine him living as her secret? Sneaking around to hide him? If she passed him in the street, she’d ignore him to preserve her status. He’d be heartbroken. I won’t let that happen. I hope I didn’t overstep, but I’m not sorry for it.” 

He dropped to his knees, eyes wet, and pushed his head into your shoulder. His big arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing you tight.

“You said just the right thing,” he murmured, then turned his head to look at his son. “What should we name him?” 

You smiled at him. 

“Let’s talk it over over lunch.” 

The two of you walked back down the path together, both having a hard time keeping your gaze off the baby. He wriggled in his sleep, making you both see hearts.

“Maybe we should move,” you murmured. “Just to be sure…and to give him a fresh start.” 

He looked down at you. 

“You won’t miss this place?” 

You sighed. 

“No…this is just a house. We have a family now. He should grow up in a happy little town, not the capital…we’ll have to save for a few months, but I think we can do it.” 

“We don’t have to save. I have plenty of money.” 

You froze in your tracks, looking up at him.

“What? I thought you said you were broke?” 

He smiled down at you. 

“I meant I didn't have any coin on me. I didn’t just piss all of my ill-gotten gains away. I hid them. Follow me.” 

He tugged the two of you into the forest, walking quite a ways until you reached an oddly placed rock. Saber crouched down and uprooted a bush with a stiff jerk. Then he cleared the soil away, revealing a wooden chest. He turned the little dial a few ways until it clicked, and the chest opened with a creak. Your eyes widened at the hundreds of gold coins piled inside. He casually tugged the gold he’d lifted from you out of his pocket and tossed it inside with a metallic clink. 

“I think we can buy a nice place with this.” 

You were still completely confused. He rummaged around in the coins, producing the gold necklace he’d stolen. Standing, he fastened it around your neck with the nimble fingers of a thief.

“I thought you lost it gambling?” 

He shrugged. 

“I lied.” 

“Why did you keep it?” 

He gave you a long look.

“I’m not sure, to be honest. Something told me not to sell it.” 

“But…what about the rest? I thought you gave it all to Melody?” 

“I tried to…we grew up in the capital, in the same slums she wants to buy a baby from. It wasn’t ever about what I could provide her. She wanted to erase her past. She wanted a title…to be a lady, to be able to lift her nose at the very people she grew up with.

I started saving after she failed at her first attempt at seducing some highborn. At the time, I had this romantic dream that I could surprise her with a big house, start a business, and be the Lord she wanted so badly…but… as time passed, I realized I was already tainted in her eyes. She wanted the right blood attached to her money. It took me too long to be ready to pull away. Dante was the nail in the coffin, so to speak.” 

He tugged the chest from the ground, hauling it onto his shoulder before leading you back through the forest.  

“Even though I knew I wasn’t enough…I foolishly still loved her. I was a mess when he proposed. That’s why I got caught. I went on a bender that lasted most of a year…Fortunately, I never touched this. Maybe I held out hope since Melody still entertained my attention…but I got sloppy and ended up in jail.” 

His gaze dropped to the baby. 

“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn't have ever known about him. Anything could have happened to him if you hadn’t-”

He choked a bit, a couple of tears slipping down his cheek. You didn’t push him to finish his sentence. You knew what he was trying to say. 

“What about Arel?” you asked. 

“Arel? That sounds like an Elvin name.” 

You smiled at the little baby’s chubby cheeks. 

“It is…it means ‘treasure’.” 

He stopped, bending down to examine his son more closely. The baby’s eyes opened, and you saw that they were the same pretty chartreuse as his father’s. The two of them looked at one another in awe. 

“I like Arel,” he said, brushing a thick finger over his cheek. 

Arel’s big eyes grew wet, and he started to croon. 

Shock and worry bloomed on Saber’s face. 

“Is he okay?” 

“I think he’s hungry. I have some goat milk at home.” 

Saber straightened, and you had to almost jog to keep up with him, the two of you hurrying home to start your life as a family.

[twitterpated-passion]

A Brutish Love | Monster Boyfriend

You never left your village much, you never saw the need to. When you did, it was to the same place to forage berries when they were in season in the Springtime. You had to be sneakier the past couple of years though, the elders warning people of an Orc tribe living nearby. They didn’t want anyone leaving and being caught without realizing it, just for the village to be raided or set ablaze, or both.

While you understood the concerns, you never saw the need to fear the fact that they were nearby, holding the thought process that everyone needed a place to live. Though, that was before you were caught.

^___________^___________^

The sun was setting, which meant that everyone was either indoors, getting ready to close their store or spending time getting the last bit of the late spring sun before retiring for the night. You, however, thought it was the perfect time to sneak out of your own cabin to go to the little spot that had an abundance of berries that you used to pick with your parents when you were young.

Your father was a baker, never let a single berry that went uneaten go to waste. And your mother was a seamstress, prided herself in her work and always reassured you that whatever you stained with the dripping berry juice, she’d either get the stain out or make you a new one. You missed them.

You grabbed your father’s old basket, lined it with your mother’s old towel for it and set off into the woods, keeping a lantern in your hand to light your way once the sun made its way out of sight and the moon lifted to show itself in the sky.

Every footstep sounded louder than you knew they were, your eyes rapidly darting back towards the village until it was out of sight and you found your way in the little area that was filled to the brim with berry bushes. You kneeled by one, setting your lantern down and picking them, letting them fall with a silent thump into your basket. When you picked enough from one bush, you moved to another, and then another, until your basket was full and your lantern was practically out, leaving the moonlight to guide you. But as you stood and dusted off your clothes, you heard heavy footsteps, and you tensed, rushing with your basket to a tree, trying to hide behind it.

You heard a voice before you were able to fully hide, though. “I know you’re there.”

Your heart raced, pounding against your chest as you heard the deep, raspy voice. And it wasn’t as if you were able to hide, so you peeked out around the tree, eyes widening when they had to snap up to look at the Orc fully.

He was looking down at you with a tilted head, an eyebrow cocked. He didn’t look too thrilled, but he didn’t look angry either, an unreadable expression masking what he was really feeling. “Don’t you humans normally stay in past sunset?”

“Most of us,” you answered, though your voice was barely audible in the quiet night air. He seemed to have caught what you said though and a little glimpse of a smile appeared on his lips.

“Not you though?” You shook your head, but shrugged. His eyes darted down to the basket and then around at the berry bushes surrounding the two of you. “Do you normally pick berries when the moon is out?”

“No,” you responded. “Do you?”

“No,” he said back, that glimpse turning into a real smile as he side-stepped over to a tree, leaning against the rough bark of it.

You saw one of his hands move his long braid over his shoulder, letting it rest against him as the rest of his muscular, yet severely scarred body stayed still. When you looked back up at his face, you noticed that his right tusk was chipped, missing the pointed tip like the one on the left has. You didn’t ask about it, you thought better not to, especially since you didn’t even know his name, but it looked like he’s been through a lot.

“Didn’t someone teach you that it was rude to stare? Especially at something much bigger than you?” He grinned. He was teasing, that much was obvious, but the words of your village’s elders rang in your mind and you moved back towards the tree you were hiding behind before. He let out a small snort, eyes looking you up and down before he rolled his eyes and pushed off of the tree. “Relax.”

“Hard to do for me…in general really…” you said, and you almost cringed at how pathetic that sounded. His brows knitted together, but you shook your head and looked back towards where you came from. “I should be getting home before it gets to be too late-”

“Already? We just started talking,” he said, not fully cutting you off, yet not letting you trail off the way you were going to do. His grin grew and he took a step closer to you. “Don’t tell me I scare you.”

“You don’t,” you said. Half-truth. The fact that he could crush your skull with your hands scared you. Him just standing there didn’t. “It’s just…late.”

“Not late enough for you to forage though?” He asked, lips pursed the best they could be with his tusks. “You can just admit it, wouldn’t be the first time my race has scared yours. You probably have people telling you to lock your doors, hide or else the big, bad Orcs are gonna come get you or raid your town.”

He wasn’t wrong, you thought to yourself, but he did sound awfully bitter. “Does that happen often to you…?”

“More than your people cause wars, which says a lot, doesn’t it?” You couldn’t argue, nor did you really see the need to. Humans didn’t really have a good reputation to anyone…even to other humans. You only shrugged, giving him an apologetic look.

His gaze softened and he shook his head, huffing out a sigh, saying after a beat of silence, “I’m Cortek.”

Your eyebrows lifted and with a nod, you said your own name, corners of your mouth curling up ever-so-slightly. “What’re you doing out here, Cortek?”

He shrugged. “I like walking during the night.”

You nodded, humming quietly. You breathed out, pursing your lips and looking down to the basket in your hands. “Why are you foraging when it’s dark out?”

You paused, briefly questioning if you wanted to tell him the truth or not. You decided to anyway. “My village really isn’t the biggest on leaving or being out past sunset.”

“Why’s that?” he asked. Your eyes moved back up to him and he seemed to understand shortly after. “Ah. Right, my tribe’s close, isn’t it?”

You nodded again, offering him an apologetic glance. “Yea…the elders aren’t really…welcoming to anyone other than humans being near us…even Elves…and Dwarves…or others…”

Sighing, you stepped closer to him. “I think they’re talking bogus though, a lot of people my age do, but we can’t speak out against them without being reprimanded…so it’s easier to listen or to sneak around.”

You watched as his lips turned up a little and you were a little grateful that you were able to cheer him up a slight bit. “It’s like that in my tribe with the chief. Though you might end up with your head on a spear if you fight against the chief.”

“Remind me not to get on their bad side then,” you jested, hearing him breathe out a laugh before shaking his head and fixing the tunic that sat loosely on his body, covering the scars on his chest that you got a glimpse of earlier.

Looking back down at the berries, you clucked before getting an idea, tilting your head back up to meet his eyes. “Come back here tomorrow…same spot. Around the same time.”

He raised an eyebrow. “What for?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see, I suppose,” you said, smiling before lifting your hand with a little wave, turning on your heel and walking off. “Same spot, same time, Cortek.”

“Yea yea,” you heard him say as you walked away, a silent laugh shaking your shoulders.

^___________^___________^

The sun was high and there you were, standing in your kitchen, in the comfiest clothes you could manage, a couple candle’s lighting up the area despite the light coming from them not being needed as you worked on making a simple pastry dough, reading over your father’s messy handwriting on the small card he scribbled the recipe on. The basket of berries were sitting off to the side on your counter, waiting to be turned into a jam so you could put them with the dough, watching you and probably judging you for working so hard just to bring a few with you that night when you saw Cortek again.

It wasn’t as if you were meaning to impress him…simply offering a few of them as a peace treaty. You didn’t have many friends in the village and if this was your one chance you had, you were taking it. You wanted to know more about him, maybe where he got his scars if he was up to sharing, but you weren’t exactly sure how he’d react if you just asked, you planned that question for another night if a friendship actually blossomed. Maybe then it’d also show the village that the Orcs aren’t bad. That there was nothing to be afraid of, even if they were intimidating appearance wise.

And once you got the dough in a muffin tin and in the oven, you began working on the jam, grabbing the recipe card for that out from under the dough card.

^___________^___________^

Nighttime came faster than you were expecting it, and without bothering to change into anything nicer, you wrapped up a few tarts and put them in one of the picnic baskets you had. Then, after making sure everything was clear and no one else was out, you rushed out of the village, heading back to the berry bushes.

When you slowed yourself down as you neared the area, you saw that Cortek was already there, waiting for you. His head picked up when he saw you and he flashed a little smile, wearing an outfit similar to what he was wearing the day prior: a loose tunic and loose, black pants, much like what you saw the knights wear when you visited the city years ago, being lucky enough to get a glimpse of a few of them outside of their armor. “You’re early.”

“Or are you late?” He responded, but his smile grew and it let you know that it was just a tease. His eyes glanced down at the basket in your hands, then around at the berry bushes. “Come to take the rest of the berries?”

You shook your head. “No, I made some tarts today, wanted to share them.”

He visibly froze, brows furrowing before his eyes moved to yours and the deep brown softened under the moonlight. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” you said, lifting the basket and walking up to him, only to guide the both of you on the ground, putting the basket between you two and opening it before handing him a small plate of tarts, and pulling out your own plate. You spoke after a moment, “My father used to bake these and share them around in the village. I’m not sure they’re as good as his, but…I tried my best.”

“Used to?” He asked. Your eyes got slightly wet and you pulled in a breath as your smile faltered.

“My parents went to the city one day. When they were supposed to come home a storm hit…and they never arrived,” you explained, not wanting to go into much more detail than you have already. You didn’t like talking about it, even after five years.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, pulling back the wrap over the plate. You shook your head.

“It’s fine…it happened years ago…the least I can do is keep their memories alive. Through tarts or something like it.” You just barely missed as his gaze softened further and he looked down at the tarts before back up to you. “They weren’t like the elders. I’m sure that if they could’ve afforded to move, we would’ve gone to a more inclusive town…”

“If it means anything, I’m glad they didn’t,” he said after a beat. “If they did, I wouldn’t have had you coming here with tarts.”

You breathed out a little laugh and nodded. “Yea…you have a point there.”

The air between the two of you went silent, and you watched him as he grabbed one of the tarts and took a bite out of it, waiting for his reaction, hoping you didn’t just disappoint your father for making them bad. Not that your father was ever disappointed in you, it was never in his nature.

Cortek caught your gaze when he was done chewing, a little smile upturning his lips before he nodded a little. “It’s good.”

Your shoulders slumped in relief and you were able to smile again, letting it grow when you finally noticed just how small the tart was compared to his hand, but he didn’t comment on it, so you weren’t going to. “Good- it was my first time making these after everything so I was a little nervous.”

“You shouldn’t be,” he said, taking another bite before eating the rest of it. You felt proud, even though you just followed a couple recipe cards correctly and they turned out how they were supposed to. But you were taking a win no matter where it came from. 

The two of you spent a bit in silence, eating without feeling the need to talk until the tarts were done and the plates were back in the basket. You were sitting at the same distance from before, a little more than a foot apart, but you felt the need to get closer to him, and when you saw that his hair wasn’t in the braid that it was the day before, you took that chance and scooted closer to him a little bit. “Your hair isn’t in a braid tonight.”

Cortek paused for a beat, but lifted his hand and touched his hair, nodding with a small glance towards you. “Yea, why?”

You parted your lips, but after being able to think about it, you thought it was a bit weird to ask him if you could braid his hair so close from meeting him, so you shrugged instead. “Nothing…just like pointing out the obvious, I guess.”

He smiled a little, his hand dropping from his hair and nudging your arm. He didn’t say anything else, but the silence that returned was comfortable and the two of you spent the rest of the night under the moonlight and in the soft breeze that touched the night air.

^___________^___________^

As Spring turned to Summer, you grew more comfortable with leaving the village since your parents died, even going as far as to sneak out during the day to meet up with Cortek. You met his twin sister, Aloka a month ago, almost instantly getting her approval when he made a quip about her and you socked him in the arm, not that it did anything to a man that was two or three times bigger than you. 

You considered him a genuine friend, the first one you’ve had in years, which, as sad as it sounded, it was true. You never realized that you didn’t have a real friend until you were truly alone in the world, and it was like that for a good long time.

You stood beside a lake Cortek had shown you soon after you emptied the bushes of their berries, forcing him to take most of them and bring back to his tribe, whether it was to eat or bake with. In return, and with a joke about how he didn’t want to see your massacre of the berry bushes anymore, so he showed you the lake that sat nearby, one that you didn’t even realize existed since your town used a river that must connect to the lake.

It only took ten minutes of waiting and distracting yourself with skipping rocks, for Cortek to arrive, wearing an open tunic that only really covered his arms and bottom torso with a visibly worn set of bottoms with a pair of boots. His hair was up in a low pony, and he grinned when he spotted you, scooping you up in his arms before squeezing you and setting you down to turn you to face him. “You’re early, Honey.”

Your cheeks warmed at the pet name, something he randomly decided to call you after learning that you put honey on most of your baked goods. You liked it nonetheless. “You’re just late, ‘Tek.”

He scoffed, waving his hand in the air. “Sure, sure, whatever you want to call it. I just know that you’re always painfully early and that you wait for me to arrive.”

You hummed, nodding along even though he was clearly talking out of his ass. “Or maybe you’re late.”

“I guess we’ll never know,” he said, smiling again before he sat down on the grass, helping you sit beside him. “Alo’ wants to see you again, and she also said that she wants you to make those orange cookies again.”

You breathed out a laugh. “She’s eating me out of house and home and she doesn’t even live with me,” you said.

He chuckled, wrapping his arms around his legs and tugging them so they’re flush with his chest, looking less like the warrior you were intimidated by in the beginning and more like a big, domestic puppy. “Eh, she’s just like that. It took her years to even eat something sweet. It’s a miracle she’s so attached to your baking.”

Your eyes softened and you smiled, a little thing, but it wasn’t like you could visibly portray how your heart felt at that moment. “I’ll make sure to bake some for her.”

Cortek smiled back at you and nodded, moving an arm before he tugged you against his body. You leaned against him, your eyes shutting and your heart skipping every so often. The moment felt so utterly-

Someone yelling your name snapped you out of your thoughts and your head snapped back, eyes meeting one of your neighbors looking at you with eyes the size of saucers, her gaze going between you and Cortek. The both of you stood and you pulled him behind you, even if he was the bigger one. “What are you doing?!”

You almost flinched at the shrill and she turned to run back to the village before you could answer. You wanted to chase after her, but you already knew that you were done for…the elders would find out and you’d be a goner even if you happened to catch her. So you sided and you looked up at Cortek, your expression now bittersweet as he rubbed your shoulders, moving to hold your arms. “You alright?”

“Not really,” you admitted. “I’m going to be in big trouble.”

“Do you want me to come with?” he asked. “...I don’t think anyone would let me go into your village, but I’d be right outside of it.”

You shook your head, even though you wished you could’ve agreed. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, ‘Tek. Just…stay here, I’ll come back as soon as I can, alright? If it gets too late, go home and we’ll meet tomorrow.”

He gave you a look, but you patted his hand and gave him a reassuring smile. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

With that, you pulled from his grasp, and made the trek home, only to find the Elders at your house, waiting for you to arrive. Your heart sunk further and you didn’t start to talk until you let yourself in and then let them come in, all five piling in your small cottage. You parted your lips to start trying to explain yourself, but you were cut off shortly after you began to utter your first word.

“We told you- everyone to not leave the village. We said that there were Orcs nearby and we wanted to protect our village. And what do you do?” The leader -a short man lacking most of his all white hair- said. “You go off and spend time with an Orc! Are you trying to get our village raided? Destroyed?”

“That’s not what I was trying to do-”

“Then what were you trying to do?” He asked, cutting you off.

You stood there in silence for a beat, your lips pursing before you sighed and said, “The Orcs are nice, they don’t mean anyone harm.”

“They’re Orcs, they raid and they steal and they fight, that’s their culture. You’re putting yourself at risk, you’re putting everyone at risk,” he said, the other elders nodding in agreement. “Think of how your parents would feel about this? About you putting us all in danger.”

Your body tensed, your eyes widening and your lips parting before closing a few times. You wished you didn’t say no to Cortek coming along. “My parents wouldn’t discriminate over an entire race because you guys think that they’re dangerous. They could be, but how many wars have we started with the Elves? How many wars have our race started because we didn’t like people being different from us?”

You looked around, you saw the memories that were made there, and you knew that your parents wouldn’t want you to stick around if it meant that you weren’t going to be happy. When you looked back at the elders, who were still gawking at you for your little monologue, you took a breath. “I’m done. I’ll be gone by tonight. Don’t worry about me putting your little port of power in danger.”

Walking to the door, you opened it, motioning towards the outside. “Please leave. I need to pack.”

Some of the elders looked at you like you had two heads, but despite the lecture and disciplinary methods the leader clearly had planned for you, he looked at you solemnly and nodded, leading everyone out of the cottage and shutting the door behind him when he walked out. You were quick to start packing after that, finding what bags you were able to carry yourself and filling one with clothes. You stashed what books you could and emptied out the picture frames before pressing the photos in the books.

You brought one bag down and packed your father’s recipe cards and your mother’s towels and forced yourself to ignore the baskets that belonged to your parents, knowing that you couldn’t bring them with you no matter how much you wanted to. After that, you just focused on the necessities, filling the rest of the second bag with it, and managing to fill a third bag with memories you were afraid to let go, journals you had yet to finish.

It took you a long time to gather the courage to grab the bags and leave. You weighed that it was so much easier to stay than it was to leave, but yet you did. You grabbed your bags, and with a tearful look back at the house that you thought you’d be in forever, you left.

You walked back into the forest, your legs moving slower with the added weight of the bags and the emotions flooding your body, but you make it back to the lake, only to see Cortek pacing. He didn’t seem to notice you until you were almost beside him, his eyes lighting up, before his expression fell when he saw that you had bags with you. “...They didn’t.”

“They didn’t,” you confirmed. “...I did. It didn’t feel right staying in the village.”

He moved to you, grabbing two of the bags from you and carrying them like the weight meant nothing to him. “What’re you doing?”

“Carrying your bags, you’re coming with me,” he said simply, moving one of the bags to the other hand and holding them in one hand so his free one could grab yours. “I wouldn’t be much of a friend if I let you be homeless. I have some space in my hut back at the tribe.”

“You sure? Wouldn’t people react weirdly to you bringing me back?”

“Maybe some, but Aloka is pretty close to the chief and his partner so you’re staying no matter who complains,” he said, and you felt relief fill your heart, nodding.

“Remind me to make her those orange cookies,” you said, a little smile touching your lips despite the situation. He laughed, nodding and leading you to his tribe.

^___________^___________^

Summer turned to Fall and Fall eventually turned to Winter, you grew more at home in Cortek’s tribe than you did the past five years you lived alone in your old village. You essentially became the tribe’s baker, and while you were put together externally, you were internally freaking out, using and abusing your father’s recipe cards to make enough for everyone and then some. But it wasn’t that bad, you got a warm place to live, food, and you didn’t even have to do anything hard, since everyone else treated you like you’d break if you ever lifted an ax to get some firewood.

There was just one, little thing that left you reeling: you were hopeless with your newly gained feelings for Cortek. There was a reason that you always wanted to spend time with him, and gods did you figure out really fast that it wasn’t because you wanted to be good friends with him. Not that you ever complained about staying friends. You were happy being with him no matter what your relationship with him was.

You pulled a cardigan over your body, holding it tightly against your body as you braced yourself and went outside, your feet stepping onto the fortunate light feathering of snow that laid on the ground. You scrunched your nose at the sudden onslaught of cold and you squinted to keep walking, hating yourself for going outside already. You found Cortek outside of the little tavern hut the tribe made when they must’ve settled here. He was talking with a few other Orcs, all of which waved and gave you little smiles before he turned to look down at you, brows furrowing when he saw you in just a cardigan over your clothes. He walked over to you and met you halfway, tipping your head up as he leaned down a little. “Why’re you only wearing that?”

“I don’t have a coat,” you said. “I didn’t go out often when I lived alone.”

He sighed, giving you a concerned glance before he unclipped the fur that rested over his shoulders and put it on you, the cloak warming you instantly, but being a little long for your body. “Wear this then, I have another one in the house.”

“What about you now though?”

“Orcs don’t get that cold,” he explained. “Thicker skin. What’d you need?”

“We’re gonna run outta firewood soon,” you said, pulling the heavy cloak closer to your body. “We only have a few pieces left.”

With a nod, he pulled the hood over your head and stood straight. “Just toss the rest in the pit, I’ll bring some when I get home, you should go back inside, you look like you’re about to turn to ice.”

“Feels like it,” you admitted, but grasped his hand to squeeze it before you went back to the hut and let him return to his chat with his friends.

You tossed the rest of the wood into the fireplace, keeping the cloak on as you settled on one of the large chairs that sat in the little living space just off of the kitchen. It didn’t take long to warm up, but being surrounded by what was essentially a big blanket made you doze off quickly, and you weren’t in the mood to get up to go to your room.

You woke up when the door opened and heavy footsteps followed, eyes cracking open to look up at Cortek as he walked in. He set the firewood down against the wall and glanced over at you, an amused smile on his face when he saw your tired gaze. “Comfortable?”

You hummed, nodding. “Very.”

He chuckled a little and walked over to you before pushing the hood down. “We could get it hemmed for you, if you like it so much.”

“You don’t have to,” you said, but you’ve learned not to fight with him about doing things for you.

“We’re getting it hemmed,” he replied, and that was the end of that. He sat on the other chair in the room, a loud grunt leaving him as he relaxed and leaned into the chair further. There was a beat of silence, but he broke it after a moment, “It’s been nice.”

“What?”

“Having someone else in the house with me…” Your eyes met again and he shrugged. “I’m not the best at being alone.”

Your brows knit together, but you nodded with a little smile. “For all things considered you’re a good roommate, ‘Tek.”

He smiled back. “I try.”

You knew he didn’t have to. As you looked at him, you watched him turn to look up at the ceiling before his eyes shut and you slowly unclipped the cloak off of you, leaving it on the chair as you got off and walked over to him, feeling awkward, not exactly knowing why you were doing what you were doing. “Cortek?”

He cracked his eyes open, jumping a little when you were so much closer than he thought you were. “Gods, Honey, you got close.”

Your face grew warm and you gave him a nervous glance, smile included. “I need to talk to you.”

Concern grew on his face again, and he sat up, nodding. “What about?”

“...Us…I guess? I don’t know…I don’t exactly know what to say.” You bit your lip, took a breath and gave yourself a little nod. “Deny me all you want…no hard feelings or anything, I just…uh- these past couple months I’ve wanted to be more than friends…”

Cortek’s eyes widened a little, and you already regretted saying something about it, but he drew you closer and kissed your forehead, holding your hand and squeezing it. “Aloka owes me five gold.”

“What?” you asked suddenly, only for your own eyes to widen and you slapped his arm. “You knew?!”

“‘Course I did, you’re not exactly subtle. Not like I don’t feel the same anyway, Alo’ just wanted to see if you’d confess or if I would have to. And you did it first so we’re five gold richer.” You narrowed your eyes at him, groaning before pulling your hand away from his.

“You’re ridiculous, Cortek.” He laughed, grasping your arm and tugging you back into him, lifting you so you would sit on his thigh. “You bet on this? Why didn’t you just confess?”

“I was curious to see if you’d last the winter,” he mumbled, planting a kiss on your temple, his tusks pressing against your head. He smiled down at you, and you couldn’t help the smile that came with the sight of his.

You shook your head and leaned into him, pressing your lips against his for a brief moment and tucking your body into his as his arms slipped around your waist. You were wondering why you even thought that the confession would’ve gone poorly, even if he did bet with his sister about it.

And hey, you might’ve gone through an emotional rollercoaster because this man was in your life, but you had him for good now, and you didn’t plan on letting him go.

[dr3c0mix]

Hey, could you do more nsfw for your Little Duckling Yandere!Orc x Gn Reader fix please?

Yandere!Orc x GN Reader pt. 2

CW: smut, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, dub-con

⚔️ You've been held captive in Valeth's home for over a month and your initial fear and shock dissipated weeks ago and you felt more like a stay-at-home spouse than a victim of kidnapping.

⚔️ You gave up on trying to escape ever since your attempt at breaking the windows backfired with the piece of firewood you threw at it broke your arm instead somehow, so you accepted your fate of being the little pet of an orc mercenary.

⚔️ He was never harsh with you, always being gentle and caring towards you.

⚔️ He would give you small kisses and head pats when he was home, sometimes even picking you up and cuddling you close when he's tired from being out.

⚔️ Strangely, you appreciated it, hell, you looked forward to it. You don't know how, but you would find yourself sitting by the door, waiting patiently for him to return.

⚔️ He found you once fast asleep on his big pelt-covered chair facing the door and placed a kiss of your head, carrying you to bed.

⚔️ One day he said he'd been hired for a big mercenary job and that he'd be away for a few days, you remained calm and uninterested but inside you were panicking a little at the thought of you not seeing him for that long.

⚔️ You waited for days, telling yourself you'll be alright, he'll be back..unless he was arrested...or killed?! MURDERED EVEN?!?!?

⚔️ You mind flooded with terrifying scenarios while you tried to sleep, cold wind making you shiver without the warmth of your orc captor to embrace you in your sleep, keeping you up at night in fear of not seeing Valeth again. What would you do? How can you get out now?? Is he ok??

⚔️ You snapped out of your daze by the sound of the door locks clicking. You jump out of bed and run to the living room to see Valeth back, dropping his bag on the floor.

⚔️ He sees you and smiles warmly, a smile you've been starved from for so long even its been like 3 days...

⚔️ "Hey there Duckling, miss me?"

⚔️ Before he could scoop you up to bring you back to sleep, you rushed to embrace him, your arm barely wrapping around his bulky figure.

⚔️ You sobbed into his chest as his face went red, butterflies filling his stomach.

⚔️ He laughs deeply, you could feel the vibrations in his chest as he caressed your head with a hand on your waist.

⚔️ Valeth takes your chin and lifts your head up to meet his eyes.

⚔️ "Heheh, I missed ya too duckie~"

⚔️ He gives you a soft kiss, one different than the others he's given you, they were always playful or light, always a means to get you to smile, but this one was more intimate, more genuine.

⚔️ You melt into the kiss, deepening the loving moment between you two.

⚔️ He picks you up gently and moves to the bedroom, still kissing you as he pins you down on the bed.

⚔️ He moves to your neck, whispering how much he's missed you ever since he left as he laid on top of you.

⚔️ You moaned at his tongue exploring your soft, sensitive skin. You squealed out his name when he starts kissing your upper chest.

⚔️ "Hun, do you want me to continue?"

⚔️ You give him a small nod as he pecks you on the lips before gingerly pulling up your shirt, goosebumps forming on your skin as the cold breeze hit you.

⚔️ He laughs as he caresses your sides, feeling your soft body up and down.

⚔️ He sits up to take off his clothes until all that's left on him is his underwear before going down on your sweet body, licking and sucking on your nipples as you covered your mouth to keep yourself from being too loud.

⚔️ He looked up at you from your chest and moved your hand away. "No no Duckling, I wanna hear you moan for me~"

⚔️ He moved up to kiss you deeply, groaning as his tongue entered your mouth. You moaned into the kiss as his hips rutted against yours.

⚔️ You wiggle your shorts off as Valeth rubbed your thigh, his other hand groping your chest.

⚔️ He sits up and pulls down his underwear, his cock springing out in front of your aching hole. You gulp at the size of it, earning a chuckle from the big orc.

⚔️ "I know, it's pretty impressive, but I won't hurt ya hun, I promise..."

⚔️ He leans down, aligning his throbbing dick with your hole and slowly pushing it in, his head already stretching you out as you held onto his back in a mix of pain and pleasure.

⚔️ Finally he got his whole cock in and he starts thrusting into you, starting off slow and gentle but then gradually getting faster and harder.

⚔️ He groans as your walls hug his dick so perfectly, it was like it was made for him. He waited so long for this, you under him being used as a cock sleeve, drunk from the pleasure he's giving you.

⚔️ You moan out his name as you climaxed, but he kept going, now vigorously chasing his high, his full balls slapping against your ass.

⚔️ Stars start appearing in your vision as he bottoms out in you, filling you up with his warm seed as he kisses your cheeks.

⚔️ He chuckles as you catch your breath, closing your eyes as he picks you up to place you in a more comfortable position, his cock still inside of you.

⚔️ He coos and whispers to you softly, saying how good you were, how amazing you felt as he massaged your sore thighs and chest.

⚔️ You fall asleep facing him as he hugs you close, sighing happily now that he's home safe with his lovely little Duckling.

⚔️ You couldn't walk the next day...

here you go little stinkies, i promise another zombie fic soon!

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Peace Offering

Yandere Male Orc x Gender Neutral Reader (CW: Dub-con/Non-con, smut, cock warming, orc, general yandere behavior, escape attempt, all a big misunderstanding) Word Count: 3.4k (I think I dropped the ball a bit on the smut scene, if it seems a bit disjointed that is because I wrote the last 1/3 of the fic over the course of 3-5 nights and I apologize, I still think it is good enough to post and the rest of the story makes up for it in my opinion, I hope you all enjoy.)  For as long as you could remember the people of your medium sized town had been caught in a fierce and bloody feud with the woodland orcs that had come from the mountains and settled the forest across the river from your home.  The bad blood between your peoples had gone on for so long that no one even remembered what had originally sparked the conflict.  Almost all of your fellow townsfolk were content with their bloodlust and thirst for revenge, but not you. You had always been interested in other cultures and the orcs were no exception, you knew if you could meet with their leader you could broker a truce!  Whenever you spoke out your wishes for peace and diplomacy most of your fellow townspeople just rolled their eyes at you, thinking you were hopeless. Orcs, to them, were ruthless barbarians that had to be put down.  But you were not to be deterred! You would do your best to put an end to the attacks on one another and you’d learn about their culture in the process!  You studied every piece of information available to you on orc customs and culture, it was mostly stuff you had already known, but it still gave you more confidence in your self appointed task.  You spent weeks making the preparations for your diplomatic trek into orc territory. Everything had to be absolutely perfect. You painstakingly made the proper robe. Not only did the style need to be specific but the color had to be lavender, which was the color for cooperation according to your research.  Finally the day came when you were ready, you set off in your attire, gaining many odd looks as you left the safety of your town.  You crossed the bridge that lead from one side of the river to the other. Soon you came to the edge of the sprawling forest that the orcs called home. Despite your resolve you were still extremely nervous. Not just about meeting the orcs, but also of wild animals, and you did not even have a weapon on you as if the orcs caught you with one they might assume that you had malicious intent.  With a deep breath to center yourself you entered the orc’s land. You called out loudly and clearly the orc term for peace, they spoke very little of your language and you had to make sure they knew your trespassing into their home was because you were on a mission of peace.  You held your hands up in the universal way to show that you had no weapons and were no threat to them. You traveled for several minutes, seeing no signs of any orcs, but they saw you almost immediately upon entering their land.  Nrybul, the orc leader, gasped when he saw you. A soft squishy little human walking right into his forest dawning the ceremonial courtship robes and calling out the orc term for “gift”. Your intent was abundantly clear to him. You were offering yourself, or being offered by your people, as a gift/mate to him for peace.  He was intrigued and decided to watch you warily for a few minutes to determine if this was a new human ploy.  When the orc man had decided that you were probably safe he and the guards he was on patrol with made themselves known to you. You almost fainted from fright as three large orcs, weapons in hand, slammed down from the trees and landed a mere few feet in front of you.  They each had to be 7 feet tall. At least.  One of the orcs approached you. He wore a full set of dark plate armor. Rough and rugged, it had clearly seen many battles. The visor of his helmet was up revealing his red eyes and two large, almost tusk like, bottom teeth. This could only be the infamous orc leader that instilled fear into humans on the battlefield.  You could see why, that armor made his already intimidating size that much scarier. You were shaking and sweating nervously.  The orc said something you could not understand, but it seemed neither angry nor hostile. He took you by the hand and gently pulled you close before picking you up bridal style. You yelped a bit in fear from so suddenly being literally swept off your feet.  Nrybul could see you shake and sweating. Poor thing, humans were softer than orcs, but you were clearly far more fragile than most humans. It must have tired you out so much to make the long track here.  It was no wonder to him that you were offering yourself or being offered as a peace tribute to a strong orc. You were so soft and delicate. Clearly no mere human could keep you safe. You were even shaky and exhausted from just a little walk. He was kind of angry that your fellow humans did not give you an escort, clearly you had a weak constitution. But no matter, you were with him now, and he would gladly take up the task of being your mate.  You had no idea why their leader had decided to pick you up, but he did it very gently. Orcs were known for many things, but their tenderness was notably absent from that list, so you took it as a good sign. If they had been taking you as a prisoner you would probably be marched to their town at sword point so you forced yourself to try and relax in his hold.  Though you were by no means able to speak fluent orc you managed to get across your name to Nrybul on the way to their home and you also managed to discern Nrybul’s name.  Nrybul quite liked your name, as even your very name sounded soft and delicate in comparison to orc names.  He said your name several times over the course of your journey, almost as if he was savoring it or trying to embed it in his brain. You of course took this as a positive sign you must have made a good impression!  At long last you came within view of their town, strong wooden walls were erected all around the perimeter with a small guard tower near the main gate. The other two orcs that had patrolled with their leader left and returned to patrol.  As Nrybul approached with you the guard on duty motioned for the gate to be opened and Nrybul entered. His choice to hold a human in this manner, and your attire, granted you two many quizzical looks, though no one said anything other than a curt nod or awkward greeting to their leader.  Your own personal orc escort noticed you were no longer shaking or sweating so he figured you might like to walk a bit and stretch your legs. Nrybul put you down gently and allowed you to walk beside him.  He took you with him into a well lit mine where a few human prisoners were supervised as they toiled for ore. You did not know their names but you recognized them as people from your town, they had been captured during a mission into orc territory and presumed dead.    While Nrybul had a discussion with the orc guarding the humans you told the prisoners that you were trying to establish peace. They ignored you and laughed, assuming you would soon add to their ranks. They were stunned in silence when they were lead out of the orc settlement and set free.  He released the prisoners! You had done it, this was a sure sign that your attempt at peace was solidified. You took a few steps intending to go with the released prisoners back home but Nrybul grabbed your wrist gently and pulled you back into town before the gate shut with a resounding thud.  Nrybul knew you just wanted to escort your friends back home, but he really could not go with you and he absolutely would not have you going without him. What if you became fatigued again? You should never be without him attending to you if you are going to be outside the walls. And, preferably, that would not be a thing that happened too often.    He really wanted you to get a meal and rest, as tomorrow you would need to officially consummate the union of yourselves and the peace between your people.  You were extremely confused as Nrybul guided you gently into a large building that you could tell by the amazing smell inside was clearly a dining hall of some type. Maybe he wanted to share a meal with you to commemorate an end to hostilities? Or maybe this was more a part of making peace than it was a celebration of it, like a tradition that must be respected to make it official.  Either way, you had no intention of offending him and ruining all of your hard work so you let him lead you into the building and sit you down at a table as he left for a few good minutes. When he returned he had removed his armor, his attire was sleaveless, showing off his large biceps. You could now see his long red hair. He was quite handsome and you blushed and looked down quickly, hoping he had not caught you staring at him.  He set down a plate of food for each of you and then sat himself down a bit uncomfortably close to you.  You did not notice because you were looking away in embarrassment, but Nrybul was smirking as he had certainly caught you checking out his muscles and looks in general. He was very pleased, he was glad his soon to be mate was so impressed with him.  You started eating when you felt his left arm wrap around your waist and pull you a bit closer. You were unsure what this gesture meant to their kind, but it made you a bit nervous. But of course you could not offend him for fear of the consequences so you allowed him to keep you close while you just looked down and focused on continuing your meal of roast boar and vegetables.  Nrybul thought you were just so cute, acting all shy as he pulled you close. It really endeared him to you how you had been so determined to offer yourself to him despite being as feeble as you were. And now you were all shy and blushing. You were such a perfect mate for him.    When you finished your food you had expected to be allowed to leave. There was still enough daylight to make it home in time before dark. But Nrybul had a different idea of where your home was.  Nrybul held your hand and guided you once more. He lead you towards what was clearly his personal house. This was where you thought something may be wrong, from all the reading you had done you knew orcs did not allow strangers into their homes.  Could it have been possible that all of your gestures and behaviors had been indicative of a desire for courtship? He did seem to hold your hand a lot… But orc sex was rough and you were rather small, Nrybul was handsome, but you did not really intend to leave your friends, family, and home.  You noticed that a hunting party was coming back into the town and the gates where wide open. Screw peace, you did not want to upheave your entire life for it!    You slipped out of his loose hold on your hand and bolted across the town and through the gates. You left the trail so you would not be spotted so easily and headed in the direction that would take you home.  You did not spare the second that it would take to look back, but you heard him call out your name in the distance. You ducked low and made your way slowly through the bushes and weeds and crept away, hoping that they would pass you by on the trail and not bother to search off of it. Or at least not until you were gone.  Your heart was pounding, your legs were shaky, and you were sweating profusely both from the effort of getting away and from the anxiety that flooded you. You had not heard anything in a while so you started running as fast as your burning legs could carry you.  It looked like you were actually going to escape, the bridge would be in view soon and from there it would not be a long way to your home.  Suddenly though you were yanked back from behind, you screamed and kicked but Nrybul hardly noticed as he carefully put you over his shoulder and began the walk back to his town. You continued struggling for a minute or two, but soon gave up due to sheer exhaustion and the fact that he was clearly much stronger than you could ever hope to be. He was not even panting from the chase or from holding you.  Nrybul had actually been thrilled you had ran, as it is an old orc tradition that one mate must chase the other and capture them before their union is consummated. Not many still practice it, but it made him more than happy that you were so invested in immersing yourself in his culture. In fact, because of your efforts he was now sure that he absolutely loved you.  In truth though he was worried, you had demonstrated such a frail constitution earlier and were just so small and weak compared to a big orc man such as himself. He had actually been close to you the entire time, but he did not want to catch you too soon and make you feel like you were weak or unworthy of a proper chase. You had put so much effort into respecting his traditions, he did not need to show off and catch you immediately.  Nrybul decided he would wait a bit and when you seemed too tired he would snatch you up and then once he had you he would take you back to his bed for a nice, deep, well deserved fucking.  Soon enough you were already being carried back through the gates and into his town and shortly after you were entering his home. He wasted no time in rushing you to his bedroom and laying you stomach side down on his bed.  You dreaded what would certainly be a very rough and traumatic sexual encounter with a large orc.  That isn’t exactly what happened though. Nrybul had taken note of the fact that you were so delicate and would never risk hurting you. You were his little human mate, it would be dishonorable and cruel to hurt you. He gingerly removed your garments and appreciated your naked form from behind.  He disrobed then traced his strong hands along your sides down to your ass which he then groped.  Nrybul began massaging your ass cheeks. He figured the day had been very eventful for you and he was sure that you were eager to mate with him and make everything official, but he could tell you were very tense.  The orc pulled some special oil, a secret orc recipe, from a drawer and coated his hands before applying some to your shoulders, back, ass, and legs. It smelled strongly of spice with a hint of citrus. He firmly massaged your shoulders and neck first. The massage was very relaxing, but you were still extremely nervous.  He proceeded to massage down your body thoroughly. Leaving no inch of your back, butt, legs, or feet untouched by his loving ministrations. You realized that there must have been something in that oil he used because now you were very relaxed. At least physically. Despite your anxiety and fear your body remained at ease.  Seeing that you were feeling better from the treatment he had provided Nrybul decided it was time to start readying your hole so he could mate with his beloved (Y/N). He applied more of the special oil to your entrance, liberally applying it until you were dripping. He took one of his large thumbs and kneaded it into your hole as carefully as he could until he could slide in a few fingers into you easily.  The oil must have also enhanced sexual sensations because even just his fingers felt amazing inside of you. Nrybul massaged your insides until you were almost ready to come from his fingers alone, but before he did he stopped and lubed his fully erect cock.  Earlier you had your head buried in a pillow but when he stopped using his fingers in you you looked over and saw his dick for the first time. It stood, almost proudly, at a bit over 10 inches. But you were so eager and stretched now from him fingering your hole that you were now a little less nervous and a little more eager to have it inside you.  You would not have to wait long at all. Nrybul climbed on the bed with you so small and vulnerable below him. He lined up his throbbing cock with your entrance and prodded you before exceedingly slowly sliding into you. Despite the prior loosening it taking him fully still hurt a bit. Mercifully he kept the pace slow as he thrust in and out of your depths.  Quickly the small twinge of pain was replaced by waves of pleasure.  You heard Nrybul whispering your name gruffly over and over as he pumped into you. The orc was still going at a snail’s pace, afraid to hurt his tiny human, but it was agonizingly slow for you at this point.  You moved yourself back against his thrusts until he got the message. Seeing how you were handling him so well and how eager you were for his dick he began plunging into you in earnest. He still was far gentler with you than he would be with an orc partner of course, just a bit harder and faster than he had been with you previously. You whined in an exhilarating mix of pain and pleasure as you felt your stomach bulge out a bit from his sheer size penetrating you fully.  Disappointingly he pulled out, but it was only to flip you over on your back so he could see your face as he mated with you. Nrybul drove his cock back fully into you easily and continued at a steady pace, his large nuts smacking you loudly as you were fucked.  He started speeding up a little more as he stroked a strand of your hair out of the way and pressed a surprisingly soft kiss to your forehead. Then, as he thrust deeply and filled you thoroughly with copious amounts of warm orc cum, he slammed his lips roughly into yours and kissing you in a manner more in line with how you think orcs typically kiss.  You came hard while he kissed you as his still throbbing cock continued pumping cum into you. Nrybul kept you on his cock as he laid down and repositioned the both of you to be laying down. He laid behind you, holding you closely.  As he started to fall asleep with his stiff cock still firmly inside of you Nrybul could not be more content with the peace offering he had been given. He would have settled the costly feud between your town for much less than what he had received, but he would gladly accept and keep this perfect mate that had been offered to him.  You tried to squirm free from his strong arms and cock, but he did not even notice your resistance, leaving you to pout and accept your place as his cock warmer as he began snoring peacefully behind you.  The former prisoners would tell everyone you had them released and lasting peace would be cemented between your people, and all it took was accidentally giving yourself to a large orc warrior who wanted nothing more than to own you, baby you, keep you safe, and fuck you constantly.     

[monstersandmaw]

Male orc x gender neutral reader (light nsfw)

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

Commission number two folks!

Content: Gender and body neutral reader who’s autistic deals with sensory overload while at a funfair, stimming includes rocking and pressure on the hands. Male orc offers a way out so the reader can catch their breath. Very brief mention of the orc losing a close friend in the past year, and of deciding to live more in the moment because of it. Light-ish nsfw at the end with a bit of a fade to black. 

Wordcount: 7562

Three hours ago, you’d been sure you could handle this. How could you not? It was a day out with your friends for Lily’s birthday, but of course, the orc had chosen the modern equivalent of a jousting tournament to show off her skills to her girlfriend. Still, you and Luke and Ellis had met up and made your way through town, collecting Lily and Maggie outside a gelateria, where naturally you all paused to buy the most amazing ice cream in town. With a start like that, how could things possibly go wrong?

After a leisurely walk to the fairground on the outskirts of town, you’d watched Luke win a fluffy white rabbit toy that was almost as big as he was on the coconut shy, despite the way the game was obviously rigged, but the werewolf had wagged his shaggy grey tail and howled his victory to the sky and clutched his new friend to his chest like it was his own goddamn child, and you’d clapped and cheered along with everyone else at the soppy wolf.

You hadn’t noticed the way you'd started to grip one hand with the other, squeezing tightly with finger and thumb just to give a little release to the steady buildup of pressure inside you as the atmosphere of the fanfare closed in around you. You also didn’t notice that you were gently rocking from side to side on the spot while you waited for Ellis to decide if he was going to go and say hi to the girl he’d been crushing on for a while, so when you found a teenager staring openly at you from the queue for the paintball stand, you assumed their attention was on Ellis.

Ellis usually attracted looks, not only because he was a goblin — a species that was relatively rare in your part of the world — but because his storm-grey skin was mottled all over with pale patches from vitiligo. He wasn’t bothered by the attention for the most part, but when you saw exactly where their gaze was directed instead — at your twisting hands — you felt an ugly stab of something bitter go through you. Carnivals may not offer the outdated and heartless ‘freak show’ elements anymore, but boy were you made to feel like one sometimes by other people.

“Hey, look!” Ellis exclaimed, his scratchy, reedy voice cutting through the maelstrom of noise and crush of people easily enough. “There she is! I’m gonna go see if she’s up for a ferris wheel ride. You think she’ll say yes?”

Your nod came out jerky and a bit stilted, but you mustered a smile of encouragement for your friend and he grinned back at you, all his sharp teeth glinting in the sunshine. Then something shifted in his expression and he frowned. “You ok?” he asked as his completely black eyes went a little wider with concern.

Again, you nodded and tried to look a little more convincing. After weeks of dancing around each other, he was finally going to shoot his shot, and there was no way you wanted him to miss because of you. “Fine,” you croaked. The word came out like a cat hocking up a hairball, but at least you got it out.

“Ok. Text me, alright?” he said. “Text me if you wanna go.”

You nodded. No way were you going to be the reason everyone left. If things got bad, you’d just… bail. Somehow. If you could find your way out of the crush of people without imploding first.

Glancing right, you saw Lily raise the hammer on the high striker and watched her muscles bunch and flex in her arms, shoulders and back. She was wearing a black tank top that said, ‘If lost, return Butch to Femme Fatale’ and beside her stood pint-sized Maggie in her denim hot pants and white t-shirt that read ‘Femme Fatale’. It was adorable, honestly, but as you stood there alone in the stream of people coursing and jostling down the avenue of grass between the smaller stands and side-shows, over-stimulation swamped you completely and you found yourself drowning silently.

Flashing lights, blaring funfair music, screaming, children running this way and that, rides rumbling and rattling on all sides, electronic bleeps and jingles mingling into a cacophonous mixtape in the air and reverberating in your head, cartoon pistol noises on the laser gun range sounding over and over and over, more screaming as the pendulum ride swung overhead once again…

The sensory overload raked its claws across your skin and left you with white noise in your head and cotton wool in your mouth.

The scent of candy floss grew chokingly thick in the air as you just stood there, paralysed.

Out of nowhere, a small and extremely solid lizardfolk kid barrelled into you, nearly knocking you flying. His horned head collided with your thigh and it hurt, but you didn’t cry out. His father scooped him up by the hand and apologised to you, but when he saw you rocking from side to side, he snatched his kid away and shot you another look, as if you were contagious or dangerous and not just struggling to kick start your brain again so you could get yourself the heck out of there and find somewhere safe to process everything.

Struggling to catch your breath, you gripped one hand with the other, squeezing as hard as you could but it wasn’t enough. There was just too much, inside and out, and you had nowhere to put it — nowhere to park it all until you could deal with it.

Someone ducked in front of you, their huge form blotting out the searing light of the afternoon sun.

Blinking, you looked up, still rocking, and tried to focus on their face.

He was an orc, you realised when you saw the huge, jutting tusks in his lower jaw and the expanse of sage green skin. A long, thick plait of black hair hung forward over his left shoulder, and through it ran a streak dyed a dark, vibrant red that was really attractive; it complemented the green tone of his freckled skin beautifully. Wearing a white, sleeveless tank top that had the logo of the fairground company on it, he wasn’t built like he spent every spare minute in the gym, but he looked like he could have lifted the ferris wheel right off its supports with no trouble at all.

Someone snickered nearby and you flinched, but you didn’t break the steady rocking motion of your body while mentally you tried to fend off all the unending stimuli around you. The orc’s expression darkened when he caught the sound of  laughter, and he stepped pointedly a little to the left. The movement served to block you from their sight and to refocus your attention on something that was quiet and solid and steady in front of you.

Yeah, he was solid alright. You blinked and watched the corners of his mouth twitch upwards just a little behind his colossal tusks, both of which bore silver caps over the tips to indicate that he had reached full maturity in the eyes of his culture. It probably meant that his tusks were filed to sharp points beneath the caps too. It was rare for orcs who lived in the city to stick to the older ways, but as you continued to stare up at him and move side to side while you ran your hands over your forearms, you noticed the beads in his braid of different materials: wood, copper, steel, glass, stone, and even bone. He’d lost someone close to him then at some point. Gods, now was not the time to be fishing everything you knew about orcs out of the depths of your brain.

For another few seconds, he continued to shield you from the staring judgement of the people in the queue for the nearest booth, but when you didn't seem to be able to settle, he jutted his chin to the side of the grassy avenue between the stalls.

“My name is Rhokann. You wanna step this way for a second? Catch your breath where it’s a bit quieter?” he said.

When no words came to your lips, he tilted his head just a little and then beckoned you with a big hand. “There’s a quieter spot over by that oak tree and the river. You want to come with me for a minute?”

You did. You also wanted to say thank you, but the words got glued up on their way from your brain to your mouth, so you just nodded.

He stuck out his arm and halted the flow of people for a moment to usher you between the candy floss stall and something else that was painted a thousand lurid colours so you didn’t look too long at it. Only when you saw the bole of a huge, old oak and a wide patch of un-trampled grass around it did you let out a shaky breath and turn to see him standing a little way off. A couple of people peered after you down the gap between the stalls, and he looked back at them with a very articulate and animalistic growl. That done, he stepped a little to his right, obscuring the view of you down the small alley with his body.

“Forget about them and look out over the river for a minute,” he suggested.

His dark brown eyes slid from you to the railings behind you, and you turned to see the river gushing in a white foam over the weir that controlled its flow through the city beyond. The sounds of the funfair behind you faded slowly, dissolving into the steady stream of white noise from the river, and you took a deeper breath and gradually released the death-grip you’d had on your own hands.

You let your gaze unfocus a little, but your body kept on moving as it tried to help you dissipate all the tension that had been building in your muscles and your mind ever since you’d first arrived at the fair.

A shadow moved in the corner of your vision, and you found Rhokann approaching slowly. He cast a pointed look at the metal railing to your left and said, “You mind if I join you for a moment?”

You shook your head. The word ‘no’ didn’t want to come, but he didn’t seem to take it as rudeness.

“Cheers,” he said. “Carnival gets intense, huh?”

This time, you nodded and he smiled when he saw it. You liked the way it hitched his mouth up around his tusk on the right, and it brought a twinkle to his coffee-brown eyes.

“Take your time,” he said. “You here with your friends?”

You nodded.

“They know where you were?”

You shook your head, but reached into your pocket and drew out your phone. Shaking it a little, you hoped he’d get the idea that they could contact you if they wanted to find you, or the other way around, and he smiled again in understanding. Your heart skipped a beat. He may have been seven and a half feet tall, but he had a gentle demeanour that you hadn’t really realised was possible in someone that big. He had a paunch too, which he clearly wasn’t trying to hide with his close-fitting, sleeveless top, and you could see from the scoop of the neckline that he had an attractive swirl of dark hair across his pecs that made you wonder what the rest of him looked like without clothes on; a fact that was startling enough in that moment to make you flush hot and look away.

“You want me to keep you company for a bit, or do you want some space?” he asked after another couple of minutes floated past.

You shook your head and then struggled to find the words to make him stay just a bit longer. When he saw you floundering, he smiled and asked, “Stay?”

You nodded, exhaling in relief, even as you fought off a rush of disappointment in not being able to form the words.

“You’re good,” he said with a wave of a huge hand. “Don’t stress talking.”

He took a deep, luxuriant inhale and leaned his massive forearms on the metal railing, easing his weight forward and gazing out at the river. His braid went all the way to the small of his back and it made you want to wrap it around your hand and tug just to see what kind of sound he’d make, and again, you had to look away before he caught you lusting after him. Just because you’d been rescued by a heroic stranger, didn’t mean you had to go falling in love with him in the following five minutes. It didn’t hurt that he hadn’t batted an eyelid at your stimming, or that he didn’t seem bothered by the fact that you’d been rendered almost completely non-verbal by the whole experience.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket a while later and you drew it out again to see that Lily was looking for you.

‘Where are you, Titch?’ she’d texted and you smiled when you saw the nickname. The massive orc had given it to you back in college, and it had stuck ever since. Even Ellis called you ‘Titch’ sometimes, despite the fact that he was nearly a foot and a half shorter than you. ‘We turned around and you’d gone!’

Rhokann was watching you from the corners of his kind eyes, and you waggled the phone again before typing out a message to Lily. ‘Needed to step away for a second. Got rescued by a super hot orc guy. More at ten.’

Lily texted back immediately. ‘Super hot orc guy, huh? I’ll be the judge of that. Where are you?’

‘Big oak tree on the edge of the park near the river. Don’t embarrass me please.’

‘As if I’d ever…’

‘You spend every spare minute you’re not kissing Maggie trying to embarrass me and El and Luke.’

‘Fair play. We’re nearby. I can see the tree’

You locked your phone and swallowed thickly, feeling a bit more able to talk. “Friend’s coming…” you faltered. Wow. Nice and articulate, you sneered at yourself with your usual sarcasm.

“That’s good,” Rhokann smiled back. He made no move to push himself back upright from the railings though, and shifted his gaze back out to the city that sprawled over the other side of the river. He gave another sigh.

You stepped a little closer and looked up at him. “You… ok?” you asked.

“Mm,” he hummed. When he looked back down at you, his dark eyes were strangely sad. “Just… thinking,” he said with a gesture of his hand near his temple. “I’ve been working here all summer, and it’s been amazing, but I’m starting a full time job in a week. I’m just thinking about what’s coming next.”

“Doing what?” Words were starting to come back a little quicker now, but it wasn’t great.

He turned his head over his shoulder to look at you, but before he could answer your question, you heard Lily’s voice coming from behind you.

“Hey Titch!” she called, and then she eyed the other orc ostentatiously up and down.

She raised an eyebrow when she saw the beads in his braid and the cuffs around his thick tusks, and you watched Rhokann deflate a little. Lily was not a traditional orc. For one, she was dating a human, which wasn’t exactly frowned upon but humans weren’t normally seen as suitable partners for her kind, and for another, she had cut her black hair short in a style shaved close to her skull above her pointed ears and left a little longer on top. She wore no cuffs on her tusks, and she’d filed them to softly-rounded points. “As much for Maggie’s pleasure as my own damned convenience,” she’d once told you.

Lily disdained orcs who stuck to the old ways, thinking them brutish thugs stuck in the past, and she folded her arms as she stared Rhokann down. “You wanna head home?” she asked in a low growl.

You turned your attention to Rhokann and he offered you a tiny, sad smile and a shrug of his shoulder. You wanted to stay and get to know him, but you also desperately wanted to be away from the fairground now. Your body felt drained of life, like you were running on fumes, and all you wanted was the quiet of your apartment, a pair of noise-cancelling headphones, and a good book.

In the end, Rhokann decided for you. He offered you a broader smile, and said, “It was nice meeting you. Take care.”

You’d never regretted your tendency to go non-verbal more than watching him walk away and not being able to say thank you.

With Lily on one side, you were joined by Luke a few minutes later, still hauling around the giant fluffy bunny he’d won, its ears flopping comically with each of his bounding steps, but you kept scanning every face for Rhokann. You saw an ogre with green skin that was a similar shade to Rhokann’s, but disappointment bit deep when you realised it wasn’t him, and when a flash of red hair up ahead drew your attention, you barely contained a sob when you saw it was a troll with multiple streaks of red in their black hair.

The walk back home passed in a daze, and you spent the rest of the day buzzing in the worst way possible.

A week later, Luke texted and asked if you wanted to grab breakfast on your way to work, and since you only had stale cereal in your cupboard, you practically leapt at the chance. ‘You mind if we drop my car off at the garage on the way?’ he asked with a subsequent text. ‘There’s an amazing little cafe just around the corner and we can get the metro from there afterwards.’

When his sputtering old deathtrap wheezed onto the garage forecourt though, your heart practically sputtered out as well. There, in oil-stained overalls, was Rhokann.

He didn’t spot you to start with, but when you climbed out of the passenger side and closed the door, his eyes flickered to you and then away again. Then back in a huge, obvious double-take, and his face split into a hearty grin. “Hey,” he chuckled once he’d taken the keys from Luke. “I didn’t think I’d get the chance to see you again.”

“Neither did I,” you admitted, and Luke shot you a look. He was in his human form this time, but he was no less intimidating than he looked as a shifted werewolf. For all that he was happy to haul a fluffy, cartoon rabbit around a funfair all day without a lick of self-consciousness, he was a dedicated gym-rat and had the body to match, but while his commitment was certainly admirable, he wasn’t your type. Rhokann, on the other hand, with his strongman physique and solid layer of fat to soften the strength that lay beneath… unfff… It was hard to look at him for long without feeling your skin start to prickle with heat.

“Wait, you two know each other?” Luke asked you and you nodded.

“He came to my rescue at the fairground last weekend while you were showing that white rabbit the time of its life,” you grinned.

At that, Luke flushed. You weren’t the only one who liked Rhokann’s build, but the orc wasn’t looking at Luke’s incredibly toned arms, which were currently being deliberately shown off to amazing advantage by his tight, black t-shirt. No, Rhokann was looking at you like you were the most interesting thing he’d seen in a year, and it was enough to make a cloud of butterflies erupt in your chest.

“Damn,” Luke hissed down at you, smirking. “You weren’t kidding about the ‘super hot orc guy’ thing.”

At that, your eyes went wide with horror and you smacked him in the chest with a wild flail of your hand. “I can’t believe Lily told you I said that, but you didn’t have to fucking repeat it!” you hissed around a strangled yelp. “In front of him,” you added through gritted teeth.

Rhokann chuckled quietly from a few feet away, and you turned quickly back to look at him. He raised one thick, black eyebrow and you rolled your eyes.

Turning to Luke in desperation as a mild panic seeped across your brain, you blurted, “Didn’t you say they were super busy at breakfast? Come on, we’d better go…”

And with that, you bolted from the garage without waiting for Luke to follow.

You weren’t proud, and you were sorely disappointed in yourself for chickening out, but in your defence, your friend had just embarrassed the hell out of you in front of your hero of the day. What if Rhokann just thought you were some human with a crush now?

Luke caught up with you, looking back over his shoulder at Rhokann for a second, and then trotted down the road at your side. “Hey, wait, I’m… I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“It’s ok,” you groaned. “I know how it feels when there’s a gorgeous guy standing there looking like… that… In your case, stupid stuff falls out of your mouth. In my case, I clam up.”

“Fair, but still,” Luke groused, holding the door of the cafe open for you and letting you step in ahead of him. “I’m sorry.”

The scent of coffee and sweet icing sugar wafted around you and you forgot your embarrassment for a bit, but the way you’d scuppered your chances haunted you for the rest of the morning at work.

By the time you got home, you were fractious and stimming and in need of some space to slough off the day on your own terms. When your phone chimed a little while later, you assumed it would be one of your friends, but it was an unknown number, and your heart skipped a beat.

‘Hey, it’s Rhokann. I hope this isn’t presumptuous of me. Your friend Luke gave me your number and said it was an apology, but he didn’t say what for. Anyway, if you’re not interested, just ignore this and block my number, but I’d love to see you again. Let me know if you’re up for that, and maybe we can figure something out soon. If not, I’m glad I met you all the same and I won’t contact you again.’

No one had ever said anything like that to you, and you stared at the text for a full five minutes.

The first person you texted though was Luke to yell at him affectionately in all caps. He called you back, and you accepted the call with a little huff that made him laugh with quiet fondness. “I’m sorry, Titch,” he said. “But I fucked up, and I figured he’d been about to ask for your number before you bolted…”

“Yeah, but I would have had the chance to say no…” you said.

“True, and I’m sorry I interfered again,” he sighed, and then after barely a beat had passed, “So are you gonna meet up?”

You rolled your eyes and flopped down onto the sofa. “I haven’t texted back. But probably.”

“Yes! He’s stunning. You saw those caps on his tusks though, right? He’s old school… He’s probably gonna go all-out to impress you…”

“So long as he doesn’t literally hunt and catch dinner for me, I don’t mind. Lily told me about orc courtship, and I am not interested in a whole fucking elk on my doorstep or something…”

“Nah, but he might challenge the chef to a death match for the honour of feeding you…”

“Oh please don’t even joke about it,” you groaned, and Luke did laugh, long and loud. “I’m hanging up now, you bastard.”

“Love you too, Titch,” he said, and hung up for you.

It took a while to figure out how to reply to Rhokann, but eventually you came up with something that you hoped didn’t sound super desperate and strange. ‘Sorry I bailed earlier like that. Luke has no shame, I swear, but I’ve told him off for going behind my back and we’re friends again now. You free this Friday evening?’

Before you could chicken out, you sent the message and sat back on the sofa, wringing your hands quietly in your lap and breathing steadily.

His reply came five minutes later. ‘If it helps, he was really awkward about broaching the topic with me when he came to collect his car. And yes I am free this Friday. What were you thinking?’

‘All on me then?’

‘I have suggestions but I wondered what you wanted. Cocktails at ‘IceCube and Henbane’? Catching that new movie they’re advertising all over town? Dinner somewhere? A walk along the river and takeaway from one of the food trucks? Any combination of those?’

Realising he was probably letting you decide on something that wouldn’t be as overstimulating as the funfair had been, you decided to keep being playful first. ‘You know henbane is poisonous to humans?’

‘They serve human-safe cocktails too, and non-alcoholic ones too that are just as good. Steer well clear of the naga-specific menu though because that shit could clean out a drain. Or strip the rust off your buddy’s car.’

You barked a laugh that echoed off the walls of your apartment. ‘I’ll tell him you said that.’

‘Go ahead, I said as much to him already.’

His texts had a cocky kind of confidence that he’d not really exuded on the day you’d met him at the fair, but then you remembered how he’d drawn himself up to his full height to shield you from those artless onlookers and flexed his shoulders just a fraction to make them back off, and you figured the two sides of him could probably sit well on his bulky frame after all.

‘Oof, I bet his ego took a hit with that. Let’s do cocktails and then maybe walk them off along the river afterwards?’

‘Sounds perfect. Shall I meet you somewhere first or meet there?’

You looked the place up online, which you probably should have done first in case it was out of your price range, and hit the map on the website to see where it was. Having arranged to meet him there, you signed off for the night and tried to get your mind to stop spinning. Somehow, despite two missed chances, the universe had thrown you a gift and a third chance in the form of Luke’s meddling.

That Friday, dressed in what you hoped would be an appropriate outfit for a cocktail bar in a swankier part of the city, you headed out with your heart in your throat.

Rhokann was impossible to miss, standing under the soft, orange light of the lamp outside the cocktail bar, and wow did he look good in black dress pants and a white shirt. His twin silver tusk-caps caught the light, and you noted that this time he had his hair tied back off his face in twin braids that melted into a single rope that hung down his spine.

He spotted you and turned to watch you walk towards him, but he didn’t make any kind of move towards you until you came to a stop in front of him and looked up into his softly smiling face.

“Hi,” you said awkwardly.

“Hi. You look gorgeous,” he added, eyeing you up and down in a way that made his gaze feel like a physical presence against your skin, and it was all you could do to repress a shiver.

You swallowed thickly. “Likewise.”

“Shall we head in?”

“Lead the way,” you said, not really wanting to walk into the unfamiliar space first. Rhokann just nodded and pushed the door open, holding it for you to enter behind him before heading into the softly-lit, wood-panelled bar.

It had the cosy, secretive air of a speakeasy, and as you wove through the tables behind the server who had looked Rhokann up and down and licked her lips in a very unsubtle display of interest, you spotted someone playing an upright piano in a far corner. Rhokann thanked the server politely and let his eyes drift back to you a moment later, the woman apparently forgotten. Something warmed in your chest and you took your seat opposite him.

He was one of those people that had real presence, and it wasn’t just his size that conjured it around him like a tangible aura. There was something about him that made people look at him, but his eyes never left you. After two menus had been set down before you, he said, “Tonight’s on me, if that’s alright?”

“You’re sure?”

Rhokann inclined his head and you caught sight of an earring dangling from his right ear. It looked like a piece of jet shaped like a small fang, polished and set in silver and dangling by a single link to a ball stud in his earlobe. He had silver rings up the line of cartilage to the pointed tips of his ears, and in the lobe of his left he had a simple silver stud. At the artfully-open neck of his white shirt, you could see the hint of an orcish tattoo and a whisper of dark hair that made something thrum through you again.

In contrast to your habit of moving around, he seemed still and calm as a monolith, and you found yourself drawn to that; drawn to his steadiness in a way you’d never experienced with anyone. Over the course of the next two hours, the two of you also talked in a way you’d never found easy with anyone. He listened, and in a measured, easy, back and forth of conversational give and take, you got to know each other.

His family was wealthy and lived in the country for the most part, and yes, they were very traditional by modern orcish standards. “You might think I’m pretty formal when it comes to orcish ways,” he said, looking self-conscious for the first time all evening, “But you should see my parents and my two older brothers…” He took a deep draw of his smoky, whisky cocktail and blew out a breath. The tip of his tongue caressed his lower lip just a little as he savoured the lingering taste, and your eyes tracked the movement hungrily.

To distract yourself, you eyed his silver tusk-caps and said, “I was going to ask about…” and tapped the side of your mouth awkwardly, not sure if you should really be asking about his orcish jewellery and personal tastes so soon.

To your relief, Rhokann smiled and brought his finger and thumb up to the right hand tusk. He lifted the cap off and turned it over in his hand for a second before handing it to you to look at. The tusk beneath gleamed beautifully in the low light, and you had been correct in guessing that his tusks were tipped with wickedly sharp points beneath them.

In your fingers, the cap was practically the size of a tiny shot glass, and you could see the orcish patterns engraved into its surface all the way around. “It’s beautiful,” you said. “My friend Lily told me a bit about orcish culture, but she doesn’t really keep to traditions, so I don’t know all that much. Just the things she personally doesn’t like. Which, to be fair, seems like a lot when you get her started on a rant.”

He laughed and delicately took the silver cap back from you when you held it out to him. He slid it easily back into place and said, “You can ask me anything you like. I figured your friend didn’t like me much when she gave me the once-over at the fairground.”

“She’s protective of the people she cares for,” you said. “It’s the one orcish trait she hasn’t abandoned. That, and showing off her muscles for her girlfriend.” The heady atmosphere and the slight rush of adrenaline that was coursing through you from being so close to him at last was making you bold, and you spoke before you’d realised you might actually be insulting him, but Rhokann only laughed.

“Ahh, those traits are etched into our DNA,” he said. “You’re gonna have to go a long way to find an orc who isn’t protective, and who doesn’t like to show off just a little bit.”

You stared pointedly at his muscles beneath the white shirt and then looked him in the eye. “If you’ve got it, why not show it off a bit.”

“Only if it works…”

You cocked an eyebrow. “Can’t you tell?”

He leaned just a fraction closer and your heart skipped a beat or two as his big, brown eyes seemed to glow softly. “I’m getting some hints,” he purred. “You slipped through my fingers twice now,” he went on, bringing his hand up onto the table and laying it knuckle-down on the wooden surface between your empty glasses. “I’m not going to let a third time pass me by without a proper answer from you.”

“What’s the question?” you asked faintly.

He smiled. “Can I see you again after tonight?”

You nodded.

“You want to get out of here yet?”

Again, you nodded.

His smile returned, and you sat back in your seat while he hailed the server and paid for your drinks. He gave her a tip generous enough to make her blush, and then stood and looked down at you. “Ready?”

A third nod was all the answer you could muster, but he didn’t seem to think you rude.

He walked behind you this time as you led the way out, and when you stepped out into the balmy, end-of-summer evening, you heard him heave a huge sigh. Glancing back over your shoulder, you found him looking at you, and you flushed. “What?”

“I’m just glad I got the chance to see you again. I thought… I thought that was it when your friend bustled you away from me.”

“Why were you working there?” you asked bluntly. You wanted to know why he was working as a mechanic at a tiny garage on the edge of town too, if his family was so well-off, but you didn’t know him well enough to ask something so direct. “At the fair, I mean.”

He smiled. “I wanted to?” he shrugged. “I’ve always been the dutiful son — I went to a good university and got a respectable degree and got a sensible job, but I felt… choked.”

Rhokann sighed again and checked the street for traffic before gesturing with his hand for you to start crossing. You walked by his side as the pair of you headed towards the river, where a long, flat promenade stretched, and you listened to him talk. His beautiful, rumbling bass carried easily on the still evening, and it made you feel steady again amid the noise of the city behind you.

“I’m not on bad terms with my family or anything, but… after a close friend of mine passed last year, I decided that I was going to live my life on my terms, and not anyone else’s. My heritage is very important to me, but it’s not everything I am. My family doesn’t understand why I quit my career and got a summer job working at the fair of all places, or why I turned my love of cars and fixing things into a job as a mechanic.”

“If you’re happier now, that’s all that matters, right?” you said.

He grinned. “I’m happy tonight, that’s for sure.”

“You’re such a charmer.”

“If it works, right?” he chuckled. You got the impression there were depths to him that would slowly unravel to you over time, and you found yourself looking forward to it already.

“Yeah, it works,” you mumbled.

You walked along the embankment together for a while until his footsteps faltered and he asked, “Would you let me hold your hand?”

“Sure,” you smiled, hoping you didn't have sweaty palms.

His hands were rough and huge, but you made it work, and it was wonderful to have a physical connection with him after clicking over chat and drinks already.

In the lea of the oldest bridge that spanned the wide river, the two of you slowed and came to a natural halt to lean against the wall in easy silence, staring out at the water as it slid past in an inky, glittering ribbon.

Rhokann turned away from the view and the movement caught your attention, drawing your gaze up to his handsome face.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked in a hoarse murmur.

“Yes.”

Leaning down, Rhokann placed his palms on your jaw and angled your head gently upwards, but he didn’t kiss you right away. He bit his lower lip and although his eyes narrowed, you saw the way his pupils widened hungrily. “You’re stunning,” he exhaled. “I… I’ve wanted to kiss you all night.”

“Stop talking about it then, and do it,” you teased.

His eyes flashed and he closed the distance between you, hunching over and pressing his mouth against yours. His tusks framed your mouth beautifully, the silver caps nudging into your cheeks a little as he kissed you senseless. You’d never been kissed like that. His hands left your face and wandered down to your waist, where he tightened his grip and picked you up, setting you down on the wide, stone wall that bordered the river. At that height, it was much easier for him to reach you, and he stepped closer, parting your knees to stand even nearer to you. You hooked your lower legs around his hips and let him kiss you over and over until your body felt like it was on fire.

Your fingers found the intricate plait of the braids on the side of his head and he moaned when you ran your fingertips over the pattern. “I want you,” he said. “Not tonight if you don’t want it, but I need you to know I want you. However you’d like…”

“I want you too,” you breathed back in the scant space between you, foreheads touching. It felt more intimate than any words you’d ever spoken, but it also felt true.

Your hands moved to grip his huge, rounded shoulders and you squeezed before running your palms across his pecs. His chest heaved and he sounded out of breath when he said, “My place isn’t far from here. You want to come back to mine?”

You nodded.

He lifted you down and took a moment with his eyes closed to breathe carefully. In the light of a nearby street lamp, you could see the impressive tent in his trousers, and you bit back a smile.

“Told you I want you,” he said when he caught you looking. “Come on.”

Flattered and a little intimidated, you walked with him back to his apartment. It wasn’t anything showy like a penthouse overlooking the city, but it was in a nice part of town, and it felt secure and homely as you followed him into the lift. In a small rush of bravery, you placed your hand at the small of his back and you felt as much as heard the groan of pleasure he let out in the small confines of the elevator. His skin radiated heat through the fabric, and you splayed your fingers, feeling the solid muscle and the slight softness there too that made you ache inside and out for him.

By the time you got to his front door, he was taking deliberately steady breaths, but the moment you were inside, he lost a little of that composure. “I’d offer you a drink, or —” You silenced him by reaching up and pressing your thumb along his lip before drawing him down to kiss you again. Part of you wanted him to take you right there in the hallway, but you had hoped for something a little more comfortable.

Rhokann undressed you carefully but insistently, and between the front door and his stylish, modern bedroom you left a trail of your clothes and his, until you were both in only your underwear by the time you were standing beside his massive bed.

Dark sheets stretched neatly across its huge expanse, and he let you push him down to sit on the edge of the mattress, gazing up at you with his hands resting at your hips, thumbs drawing idle lines across the fabric of your underwear. The evidence of his arousal was obvious, and a darker wet patch had started to seep into the material at the tip of his cock.

His body was soft but strong in the kind of way that you’d always adored. His paunch was evident, but his arms were like anchor cables, and while he might not have had the lean look of a social media gym-junkie, he could outlast any of them in a show of strength.

“I never thanked you,” you said, reaching around to the back of his head for the plait that you’d wanted to feel in your hands since the first time you’d seen him.

“For what?” he asked breathlessly. His pupils were huge and the light reflected in his warm eyes like a cat’s in the dark. Desire swept through you in a heady rush.

Slowly, taking your time about it, you straddled his lap and sank yourself down to grind your hips decadently against his, and when his hard cock moved against your body, he let out a long, broken moan.

You tightened your hold on his braid and the sound he made would stay with you forever. The deep, guttural groan rumbled from his chest and his eyes rolled back behind fluttering eyelids. Beneath you, you felt his cock twitch.

“Please,” he gasped. His grip tightened on your hips and he shuddered like he was losing control of all his strength, fighting to keep from having his way with you. The jet earring dangling from his right ear glinted softly as it swayed like a tiny pendulum in the void between his earlobe and his shoulder.

“I never thanked you for taking such good care of me,” you said.

The orc responded exactly as you’d expected he would, and gave a throaty hum of pleasure.

“When I needed you, you protected me… got me out of there…”

You’d chosen your words very carefully, and Rhokann arched his spine, jutting his hips up and practically begging to fuck you without uttering a word.

You twisted his braid around your hand one more time and he tipped his head back, following the direction of the force you put on his head. The lick of red in his forelock looked perfect in the warm light of his bedroom, and you had been right about the orcish tattoos that covered his chest, right down to his hips. He also had the most delicious chest hair and the dark trail that ran down from his navel to the waistband of his tight boxer-briefs was gradually making you lose your mind.

“You were patient and understanding, and you didn’t mind that I didn’t have my words then,” you went on. “But I have them now, don’t I?”

“You do,” he choked. “You do. Please… Please…”

“Let me thank you properly then,” you said, and climbed carefully off his lap. You looked pointedly at his underwear and said, “Off.”

“Only if you do to,” he said, and you knew you’d met your counterpart in him.

He gave and took in equal measure, and as the two of you lost yourselves tangled in his sheets that night, you knew he was going to be the best thing that could have happened to you. The two of you moved in perfect synchrony, and you came apart within a heartbeat of each other. Rhokann made a mess of the sheets and you made more noise than you’d ever made coming in your life, and when the two of you lay back, sweaty and satiated at last, he wrapped his arm around you and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered.

“Thank the gods for third chances,” you smiled and he laughed quietly. “And meddling werewolves.”

“Indeed. Come here.” He tugged you against his body so that you were lying half-propped against him, with one arm draped over his soft middle, and you trailed your fingers up the centre of his chest. “You staying the night?”

You nodded, and hoped it would be the first of many.

__

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[mousey-writes-sometimes]

orc! price??

AN: brain = gone

!!MATURE CONTENT BELOW THE CUT!! YOU ARE IN CHARGE OF YOUR OWN MEDIA INTAKE!!

WARNINGS: Monster AU? you, your existence, mentions of cum, plugging, exhibition, pretty smutty, mentions of a belly bulge, readers gender isn't mentioned, reader gets called doll a few times.

if human price has a fat cock Orc! price has the fattest cock ever!! and its pierced (bc ofc it is), I reckon he has a prince albert and Jacob's ladder.

def gives you a belly bulge no matter what!! has a "bad" habit of pressing down on the bulge, i bet he lives in a village with other orcs too...

makes sure his neighbors could hear you (s)cream, for sure taunts you while you cum around him

"i can see myself deep inside of you doll, can feel m'self press down on your tummy."

WOULD TALK ABT HOW HES NOT EVEN THE BIGGEST IN THE VILLAGE.

makes your tummy swell when he cums deep inside of you, he'd plug you and take you to dinner stuffed full of his cum, would have a full conversation while you're dumb sitting almost on his round belly, keeps his hand on your tummy to feel is cum slosh around in his pretty fuck doll :((

he'd have you sit on his cock during meetings knowing how fucked out you look on his lap and not caring, i firmly think orcs believe in one for all <3

(he also tries to fatten you up for him but that's for another time)

AN: not proofread, i love monster AUs sm <3

<masterlist>

!!I DO NOT CONSENT TO MY WORK BEING PLEGERIZED, POSED ELSEWHERE OR TRANSLATED WITHOUT MY KNOLEGE AND PERMISION!!

(please do ask to write this into a real fic!! i just wanna know that ur doing it!!)

[bump1nthen1ght]

A Very Monstrous Kinktober (Masterlist)

Hello all and Welcome to Kinktober 2023! With October just around the corner, I thought I'd post this masterlist as my official announcement. Here you'll find each day and its assigned kink, which will be updated with links and greater details (such as the monster of the day) as the month goes on.

This is my first time doing a full-fledged Kinktober and while it was a lot of work I also had a lot of fun (*´꒳`*)

And so, hope y'all have a good October and a very monstrous Kinktober!

Links under the read more!

Day 1: Pegging (Fem!Orc x GN!Reader)

Day 2: Titfucking (Slime Girl x AMAB!Reader)

Day 3: Bukkake (Male!Orcs x Fem!Reader)

Day 4: Prostitution (Male!Android x GN!Reader)

Day 5: Collaring (M!Werewolf x GN!Reader)

Day 6: Dub Con (Merman x Fem!Reader)

Day 7: Stuck in a Wall (Male!Satyr x GN!Reader)

Day 8: Breeding (Male!Naga x Fem!Reader)

Day 9: Glory Hole (Male!Minotaur x GN!Reader)

Day 10: Praise Kink (Fem!Harpy x Fem!Reader)

Day 11: Petplay (Fem!Orc x Male!Reader)

Day 12: Somnophilia (NB!Shadow Demon x GN!Reader)

Day 13: Size Difference (Male!Dragon x GN!Reader)

Day 14: Orgasm Denial (Fem!Vampire x GN!Reader)

Day 15: Non Con (Orca Mermen x Fem!Reader)

Day 16: Public (Male!Vampire x GN!Reader)

Day 17: Threesome (Incubus and Succubus x Male!Reader)

Day 18: Spanking (Fem!Werewolf x GN!Reader)

Day 19: Exhibitionism and Voyeurism (Male!Troll x Fem!Reader x Male!Ghost)

Day 20: Mind Control (Male!Vampire x Male!Reader)

Day 21: Tentacles (Tentacle Monster x Male!Reader)

Day 22: Intercrural sex (Male!Centaur x Fem!Reader)

Day 23: Deepthroating & Facesitting (Genderfluid!Slime Person x GN!Reader)

Day 24: Sex Toys (Male!Minotaur x Male!Reader)

Day 25: Pregnancy (Male!Werewolf x Fem!Reader)

Day 26: Masturbation (Mothman x GN!Reader)

Day 27: Double Penetration (in two holes) (Male!Reader x Fem!Reader)

Day 28: Body Worship (Fem!Oni x Fem!Reader)

Day 29: Breathplay (Male!Octomerman x Male!Reader)

Day 30: Free Use (Male!Temple God x GN!Shrine Keeper)

Day 31: Surprise!

[grimm-writings]

Can I request something (I leave the format up to you) for Chilchuck x reader where the reader genuinely asks Chilchuck for his opinions and thoughts on things? (dungeon related things, union stuff, that sort of thing) Since he mentioned how he would like to be taken serious/respected like Senshi.

Basically reader respects Chilchuck and might have developed a little crush on him as well but doesn't want to make him uncomfortable by being unprofessional so they don't act on it. Maybe it's mutual.

Chilchuck is skilled as fuck and it would be nice if he got some well deserved genuine praise and appreciation for it.

mutual

…ft! chilchuck x gn! reader

…tags! fluff, headcanon format, some very very lightly implied maturity difference, marcille #1 wingwoman, reader is taller than chil

…wc! 992

…notes! YOU ARE SO CORRECT he’s genuinely such a valuable asset to the team!! every bit of praise here is well-earned!!!! 

You joined the party along with Senshi at the very start of their journey.  The group was rather small and you’d fear something might happen if they traverse the dungeon on their own.  You felt as if it were your duty to help out, eager to please as you are.

You realised fast that despite the dysfunctional way the group decided to acquire their food, they’re actually much more competent than you thought!

Though this is really you generalising your admiration for the picklock of the group.  Being more combat oriented, the ways in which Chilchuck easily bypasses puzzles and open doors left you rapt with his skill.

Before you knew it, you had acquired a notebook and pencil of your own (that you deliberated on robbing from orcs for a while before caving), and you were jotting down notes like nobody’s business!

(Only when alone or on night guard.  If anyone knew, you’d be so embarrassed…)

When Chilchuck offers a piece of advice about the social behaviours of adventuring parties, you notice.  When Chilchuck offhandedly mentions a tricky aspect of the dungeon, you notice.

When Chilchuck scolds Senshi for treating him like a child, you notice.

You had a feeling he wasn’t a child.  You were sort of observing him unendingly, and he seemed the image of a jaded, experienced adventurer.  You can’t help but feel your admiration for him grow upon realising that. 

It’s difficult not to come across too eager as you’re imploring him for more knowledge.  You’re just curious!  You’re expanding your dungeon knowledge!  He’s happy to tell you anything you need to know, as casually and calmly as any good teacher.

But you know deep down that you’re just really attached to the half-foot.  Maybe too attached…

When someone (Senshi) makes a comment about Chilchuck, even before he could retort like usual you’re standing in front of him telling him what’s what!  Chilchuck is too taken aback to make much of a comment about it afterwards, but he seems… pleased.

(It’s giving “his pronouns are they/them!”)

Marcille and Laios give each other a look whenever this happens.  Not saying you’re being judged, but…

Your earnestness to be the pinnacle of dungeon exploration gives Chilchuck pride in being your mentor.  He’ll make a comment about it occasionally but deep down…

You kind of wish it could be more.

You’re not young necessarily.  You’re years into your adulthood, but even with that in mind, Chilchuck already made it quite clear that inter-party relations are strictly a no-no.

And you just had to go and break rule number one!

It does leave you staring longingly at the half-foot’s peaceful expression when you’re supposed to be on night watch, wishing for a different reality.

It would be part way through your adventure, long after you’ve given up hope on your feelings being reciprocated, when Chilchuck gives you a spot of hope.

Just a run-in with a bicorn can really change your perspective…  Chilchuck actually asked if he could talk, just one-on-one, with you.

You had to contain yourself from exploding when you accepted, following behind him into a nearby corridor.  You pretend to ignore Marcille’s giggles and Izutsumi’s sigh and eyeroll. 

Just had to hold your breath…

Chilchuck turns to you, looking apprehensive.  You do appreciate his progress of trying to be a bit more open to people.  You’re always his number one supporter without even being coddling…  He takes a breath looking up at you.  If you only knew what you did to him with each round of praise and appreciation. …Well, only one way to get there, yeah? He says your name with a weight.  One you’re not able to put to name.  “I haven’t been… entirely honest with you,” he tells you. Your chest tightens and you feel your blood run cold.  “What… What do you mean?” “Nothing bad!”  He’s quick to ease your fears with a desperate wave of his hands.  He’s still working on this, and you can tell from how red his face gets that he’s definitely struggling with this.  You watch his Adam’s apple (small, but noticeable if you stare long enough) (not like you have) bob as he gulps. His gloved hands take yours.  You try your hardest not to blush. “You know how I keep telling you that you should get ahead?  Promote yourself to join the parties of more experienced adventurers?” “Yeah…?” “I was trying to push you away.”  He looks away from you, ashamed.  “So you don’t get any closer.  I also know… how you feel about me.” You’re back to feeling horrified beyond your wits. He's definitely going to reject you.  “I thought you said this wasn’t anything bad!” “I’m getting to it!”  He shoots back with the same increase in volume.  His nerves are getting the better of him. “Then by all means,” you say, “get to it!” Chilchuck’s hands over yours are shaking.  His mouth opens once more, but only a silent quiver of his vocal cords comes out.  He isn’t even looking at you anymore.  You probably think the worst of him by now, after all this time of trying his best to look his best, the image of professionalism. You know what?  Fuck this heart-to-heart stuff.  Marcille’s advice was shoddy from the start. The action is sudden.  Chilchuck unlaced his fingers from yours, and before you could process it, his hands on your shoulders, pushing you down to his height. And he’s kissing you.  A bit feverishly and you really would have thought he’d be a bit better at this considering his experience– But you kiss back, easing into it after your shocked “mmph!?”  He still definitely owes you for putting you through the five stages of grief twice though. Chilchuck breaks apart, and as you recover from your shock, he sighs and smiles slightly.  His face is nearly glowing from the heat; you can feel it quite plainly. “The feeling’s mutual,” he whispers.

[running-with-kn1ves]

 Masterlist~~ (OG Work)

ADVISATORY WARNING: This list potentially deals with yandere behavior, violence, death, non/dub-con, NSFT, etc.! Please read at your own risk.

Male love interest

Yandere! Killer Clown X Reader

Yandere Boyfriend X Insecure! Reader

Photographer X Reader

Stalker X Reader

Photographer X Reader

Masked Intruder X Reader l Masked Intruder X Reader Pt. 2 l Masked Intruder X Reader Pt. 3

Virgin! Best friend X Reader (NSFT!)

Yandere Masochist X Reader (NSFT!)

(NSFT!) Jealous Boyfriend X Reader l (NSFT!) Jealous Boyfriend Pt.2 (Valentines day) X Reader

Yandere Best Friend X GN Virgin! Reader (NSFT!)

CRUSH(ED)

Yandere X Amnesiac! GN Reader

Cannibal X Reader l Cannibal X Reader pt. 2

Rich! Husband X Reader

Stalker X Reader

Possessive Delinquent X Reader l Possessive Delinquent X Reader Pt. 2 l Possessive Delinquent X Reader pt. 3

Secret Admirer X Reader l Secret Admirer X Reader Pt. 2

Childhood Friend! X Reader

Yandere Soulmate! X Reader

Male! Yandere x Servant Reader (Drabble)

Christmas Intruder X Reader

Fantasy

Orc Tribal Leader X Reader

Manticore X Reader

Doll X Reader

Elf(Cirdan) X Reader

Elf (Cirdan) X Reader Pt. 2 (NSFT!)

Satyr God X Human Reader

Satyr X Human Reader Pt. 2 (NSFT!)

Elf Lord X Entertainer! Reader

Orc X Guard! Reader

Werewolf Elias X Reader

Werewolf Elias X Reader Pt. 2

Naga X Reader

Naga X Reader Pt. 2

Werewolf Boyfriend X Reader

Incubus X Human Reader

Alien X Reader

Alien X Reader (Pt.2)

Wraith X Reader

Mothman X Reader

Plant Creature X Reader

Shapeshifter X Reader

Symbiote Armor X Reader

Vampire X Reader

Mermaid X Reader

Female love interest

Baroness X Maid! Reader

CEO X Reader l CEOX Reader Pt. 2 l CEO X Reader Pt. 3 l CEO X Reader Anniversary l CEO X Reader Drabble

(NSFT!) Kidnapper (Maeve)X Fem! Reader

Fantasy

Dark Fae X Reader

Vampire X Reader

Cat Girl X Reader

Nymphs X Reader

Drider X Reader

Medusa X Blind! Reader

Lycan Gangster X Reader

Lamia X Reader (NSFT!)

AFAB! Reader

Ex-husband X Pregnant Fem! Reader

(NSFT!) Robot X Fem! Reader

(NSFT!) Kidnapper Drabble AFAB

AMAB! Reader

(NSFT!) Kidnapper Drabble AMAB

Male + Female Love Interest

Incubus + Succubus X Reader

Male! Yandere X GN Reader X Female! Yandere

[consistencynevermether]

The Garden of Heroes- Astarion X Reader

content- gn! tav x Astarion. angst (but kinda more bittersweet), with a good ending. sfw. cannon typical violence but nothing extreme. soooo many character deaths. Astarion and tav forever endgame im sorry to this man he will not be moving on

Summary: Astarion learns how to live on after you and the others are gone.

word count- 2.4k

Out of your party, Karlach was the first to die. It wasn’t unexpected that she would go first. She was always headstrong, rushing into battle and putting the safety of others before herself. She died a hero's death, and so she was honored as such. After all, your group had saved Baldur's gate, and not just from the mindflayers. Even after, your party continued to do great deeds of heroism across the sword coast. Sometimes all together as a group, and sometimes as individuals. Regardless, Karlach was a hero, and so when they buried her, they erected a statue in a beautiful plot of land outside of Baldur's gate, which they titled “The Garden of heroes”. A beautiful name but also a melancholy one. A reminder that her statue would not be the last one to be built in this grove. Losing Karlach, it was painful for everyone, Astarion included.

 But what really stuck with him was that garden's name. The promise it brought of more of his friends becoming just old statutes and legends. And of you, someone far more precious than a friend, becoming the same. 

Wyll was the second to go. Taken from you all far too soon, just like Karlach. And just like her, he died as he lived, honorably. Despite everything in life that tried to extinguish his spirit, nothing could. He was happy and kind and loyal till the end of his days. When his statue was put up next to Karlach’s, everyone grieved. But over time when your hearts all healed a little, Wyll’s proud, tall, beautiful statue made Karlachs look less lonely, like she had a friend now, and there was a certain comfort in that. But there would be no comfort for Astarion when the next statue would be built.

Because the next one was you. 

Tav. The great hero of the sword coast. Felled in battle. Your sacrifice had saved the world once again but left Astarion all alone. 

You died far before your time. How far? Were you an elf who still had hundreds of years ahead of them? Were you a half-orc who only had maybe 20 or 30 left? Regardless, it was too soon. Astarion had thought he’d have more time. More time to come to terms with you leaving him. That he would be allowed to let you go, not have you ripped from his embrace by this cruel twist of fate. 

And just like that, you were the 3rd statue in the Garden of Heroes. To everyone else that’s just how it was, another hero lost and life went on. But not for Astarion. The world seemed to stop for him. 

He knew it would happen one day. He probably told himself he would go on living even without you, that he wouldn’t waste his life mourning someone when he could still live. After all, he deserved that, he had been alive so long and yet had barely begun to truly live. Yet the gaping hole that you left behind in his heart could never be filled. 

Still, because of his experience with Cazador, he refused to let himself waste his freedom. Despite you being gone he didn’t want to stop living.

But he couldn’t bring himself to love again. Nobody could compare. No one’s laugh could make his heart flutter like yours, nobody’s kisses could be quite as sweet. You who loved him at his worst and showed him the light. You who reached out your hand to him, but ultimately let him become his own savior, letting it be his choice to be good. To feel good again. It was a tragedy that he had lost that love, something that made his world so much brighter. But he cherished the memories, and that made it easier to live on.

That is until the memories began to fade. 

He doesn't know when it started. It was definitely after Gale and Lazel had joined you in the garden. Shadowheart too probably. After all, they were all only human, Giyth, and half-elf, at most the oldest of them could have been Shadowheart at 200 years or so, and Astarion couldn’t ever forget you in such a short amount of time. 

He mourned all 3 of them of course, and Shadowheart’s lack of snark towards Astarion (which over the years had become just friendly banter) was missed. But it wasn’t the same as when he lost you. 

But after decades of them being laid to rest in the Garden of Heroes, he’d started to forget little details of his former party members. But he remembered every detail of you. He heard your voice in his dreams, imagined your smile as he daydreamed, and wore a piece of your jewelry as a reminder. Even though you weren’t here anymore, he honored you.

But as the years went on, it became… twisted. Some nights Astarion would wake up in a cold sweat, muttering to himself as he tried desperately to remember what color your eyes were. Every night his dreams of you became more fuzzy with time, and every morning he clinged a little harder to the little reminders of you. In the end, he was no longer honoring you, but instead clinging to a memory. He had promised himself, promised you that he would continue to live. Yet ever since you left he had just been alive. He was spiraling.

Why what happened next transpired isn't exactly clear to Astarion. Maybe it was you from beyond the grave, maybe it was some god your party had helped before, or maybe it was just dumb luck. But by whatever force, he was sought out by a young group of adventurers looking for help. 

They were inexperienced, reckless, and worked horribly together, which is exactly why they came seeking out one of the great heroes of the sword Coast, to help them. It was easy for Astarion to forget just how legendary he and his friends were. Don't get him wrong, he thought very highly of himself, but the way these inexperienced adventurers would look at him with wonder in their eyes whenever he mentioned your name, was…odd. On the one hand, it saddened him that you were nothing more than a mere legend now, but on the other, it gave him a strange sense of happiness knowing that your memory lived on, that even the people who didn't know you were influenced by you. And having a bunch of idiots to keep alive was strangely comforting. He often wondered if you had felt the same way when you had led the motley crew of tadpole-infected weirdos all those years ago, and it gave him a connection to you that made his heart ache, but in a good way. 

It kept those nightmares at bay and kept the loneliness from consuming him. It's what he needed, that human connection, to stand up on his own two feet and keep going. It would never be the same, he knew that. 

Sometimes, sitting around the campfire, eyes closed, he could almost feel like he was back there with you. The crackle and warmth of the fire, the overlapping voices in the background, the sound of the forest. Some things never changed, and sitting there, he could almost imagine you next to him, polishing some weapon next to him in the light of the campfire, its metallic glint bathing your features in warm orange. 

And when he opened his eyes and saw that you weren't there, and hadn't been for decades now, he was ok. The pain did not consume him, the sadness did not break him, and the hurt felt good in a way because it showed how much he was loved, and how hard he loved you back in return. 

Astarion wasn’t alone anymore. And he was able to truly live again. He imagined if you could see him now, you’d be quite proud. However, occasionally at night, his thoughts would wander to more than just imagining. In Faerun, there were many ways to speak with the deceased and even bring them back. But what stopped him was your last moments. Even now what you said was crystal clear, and would never fade no matter how many years went by, it echoed in his mind constantly:

“My only regret is leaving you behind.”

As much as it hurt to be alone, Astarion knew that you were satisfied with the life you lived. And loathe he was to admit it, deep down he always knew that if he suggested some way to make you immortal to stay with him, you would decline. You burned brightly and fast, it’s who you were. You lived your life the way you wanted to, and it wasn’t his right to drag you back up with him. He knew this. But it didn’t make the thought any less tempting. 

Whenever that temptation arose, he found solace in a bit of a strange place. Or more accurately, person. Halsin. Astarion and Halsin were never terribly close, the two just had quite different personalities. Not that there was any real bad blood, just never that closeness he felt with some of the others. But as the years went by, he and Halsin became the only two people left of the original group, and that caused them to share a few bittersweet bonding moments. 

Halsin was one of the few people Astarion could reminisce with. Not only that but someone who loved so freely yet lived so long the way Halsin did made him good at dealing with loss and grieving in a healthy way, something Astarion didn’t always excel at. So he frequently went to visit the Archdruid, and Halsin was always happy to see his old friend. After a while, they even started a tradition, once every 10 years the two of them would travel to the Garden of Heroes together. Not many words were spoken during those trips, but it meant a great deal to both of them. 

All too fast it seemed, the pair had visited the grove dozens of times. And every time Astarion couldn’t help but notice Halsin had more and more gray hair with each passing visit. Elves were long-living, but not immortal. Halsin would soon be gone from this world too. 

At this point, Astarion could handle the loss. He had learned to deal with the short lifespans of those around him, at this point the young heroes he had once traveled with after your passing were now seasoned, veteran warriors, or had passed themselves. It wouldn't be the loss of Halson that broke Astarion, it would be the fact that he would truly be the last of you all. 

After Halsin's passing, nobody knew enough about your group anymore to erect a statue of him in the garden. It had been centuries and you had faded from legend to myth. Ancient heroes of days gone past. So Astarion decided to take matters into his own hands and learned to carve stone. 

What? He was an immortal after all, he had eternity to perfect the craft. For decades he’d bring in stone slabs and practice carving, his reasoning being that no way in hell was he lugging around a Halsin-sized statue, but really your own statue looking over him gave him a sense of comfort. And when he had perfected carving stone, he sought other reasons to stay in the garden. After so many years it had become neglected and overgrown, so Astarion took it upon himself to take care of the place. 

After decades of staying in this garden turned to centuries, he began to become a legend in his own right. But not the heroic type you were known as. No, the tales people spun about him were quite depressing. He became known as the caretaker of the Garden of Heroes, and many theorized as to why he did this, spun many a dramatic and tragic tale to be told at the local bar or to gossip about with friends. He’d almost feel insulted, but he rarely left the garden anyway. Being there made him happy, and after so many centuries alive, that’s really what his main pursuit was now. Just happiness. It wasn’t truly living, not entirely. But he had done so much living, far more than even the longest-living elf had ever done, and he figured it was ok now. To just be happy was enough. 

There were rare times when he left the garden, when people came there asking for his help, or when there was a major threat to Baldur's gate, he would offer his aid. The centuries of living never seemed to dull his blade, and with everything he had seen and accomplished, there was no doubt Astarion was one of the most skilled people alive. He truly was a hero from ancient times. 

That’s probably why his death was even more legendary than yours. 

To lose a hero was tragic. But to lose someone who had lived for so long, known so much, seen so much, it was a different type of melancholy for the people of Faerun. Like they had lost an ancient protector. For someone who seemed mysterious, infallible, and all-knowing to fall was a scary thing in some ways. But it wasn’t also without honor.

The people of Baldur's Gate who lived during the time Astarion died probably had no idea why the garden was so important to him. But they did know it was important. So when he died saving Faerun, much like you had done oh so many centuries ago, they decided the most respectful thing to do was return his body to the garden to be laid to rest. Some even debated that he should have his own statue erected in the garden. Ultimately these people didn’t know the significance of this place, who stood here, and why Astarion cared for it, so they decided it would be best to simply return the body. Though later a statue of Astarion would be put up inside Balurs Gate, along with a plaque. maybe people would remember him a little longer than they had remembered you. But everyone fades to the sands of time eventually. Every legend is told one last time. 

Luckily for the rouge vampire spawn, his legend didn't end with his death. It ended when he opened his eyes a few moments later, a gentle touch awakening him. The feeling of fingers running through his curls, and he knew. He knew immediately. No matter how many centuries apart, he could never not recognize your touch. He didn't know where he was, where he ended up after death, but it truly didn't matter to him in this moment. Because wherever he was, you were there with him. After so many years of looking up at your statue, its face faded and details lost to time, he finally got to see the real thing again. He got to know the color of your eyes once more. And in Astarion’s book, that was the best ending he could have gotten.

[flowersandbigteeth]

Your orc husband comes to fetch you

A little thing to start 2024. I've gotten lots of requests for more orcs ^_^

General Plot: Your husband finds out you've been injured in battle and comes to fetch you.

Orc (Reven) x GN reader

Word count: 1K-ish

More SFW fics

TW: Mention of amputation, mention of break up, hurt comfort, sfw fluff, size difference

“Heard the news?” Reven’s client asked, a brave move considering the razor at his throat. 

Skilled fingers never wavering as he drew the blade across his client's chin, he let out a bored grunt, focused on his task.

“There’s rarely any news that hasn't made it through the shop.” 

His client’s eyes twinkled, eager to share some gossip. 

“They say the Dragon Slayer is retiring.” 

Reven’s graceful stroke paused, and he pulled his hand back before he sliced the man's cheek. 

“Oh? I thought they’d never give up their crusade.”  

“Word is the crusade is over. The dragons pillaging Walker’s Keep are dead. The slayer killed them all.” 

Reven took a deep breath before asking his next question. 

“Will they be returning to their homeland?” 

The client snorted. 

“If they ever leave the hospital. They were gravely wounded in the final battle. Thank the Goddess the dragon’s gone, they won't be doing much-” 

The razor clattered to the floor with a metallic clang, and Reven’s feet carried him out the front door of his barbershop without a word to the half-shaved client sitting in his chair. 

He left his crinkled apron in the dirt as he mounted his horse and steered her towards the road to Walker’s Keep. 

–

“Come on hero, eat a little,” one of the nurses at the clinic urged you, holding up a spoon of oatmeal. 

You waved it away with your remaining hand, your face a miserable, twisted version of itself. 

She huffed, getting annoyed. 

“You haven't eaten in three days! It's only a hand. Some of the people here have lost brain matter, their genitals…You've already killed the dragons. You don't need-” 

A clamor outside the door of your hospital room cut off her little tirade. 

An orderly’s deep voice drifted through the door. 

“Sir! Only family can-” 

“I am family, dammit. I'm their husband!” 

Reven’s familiar baritone made your heart flutter. Still, you were afraid. It had been so long since you'd seen one another. Three years and you hadn't parted on a happy note. 

The door flew open, and there he was, his massive shoulders filling the frame, emerald green skin as rich as you remembered it. He’d changed his hair, no longer cropped around his ears, but long hanging in a thick ponytail over his shoulders. 

He tipped his head to enter the room, dark eyes on you, and his lips twisted around his tusks in an expression you remembered as annoyance. 

“Get out,” he barked at the nurse, and she shuffled past him without question. 

Your voice was only a murmur.

“You came.” 

“Of course, I came. I would have come sooner, but someone failed to send their spouse a note mentioning they’d lost their hand!” 

Your eyes dipped, full of shame. 

You'd left Reven on a cold December night. He'd begged you not to go, cried, yelled, and made you a million promises if you'd just let someone else handle the mission. But no, you had to be a hero, and look what that brought you. You were broken and useless, alone in a hospital bed. 

“Stop thinking so hard,” he muttered, chestnut eyes roving over you, ever analytical. 

He crossed the room and plopped down on the bed, holding his hand out. 

“What?” you asked. 

“Let me see it.”

You stretched your bandaged stump to him, and he fingered it gingerly. For an Orc he had nimble fingers honed by years as a barber. 

“Bah…Just a scratch.” 

He gently placed it in his lap, twisting his body so the two of you were face to face. 

“It's my sword hand. I'll never kill another dragon.” 

His head tipped to the side. 

“I've heard the dragons are dead.” 

“They are, but-” 

“But nothing. You accomplished your mission…sacrificed for the kingdom…It's time to come home.” 

You blinked at him, tears burning the backs of your eyes. 

“You want me to come home? I'm…I'm useless.” 

He chuckled. 

“Nothing's changed without your hand. You've never been good at anything but killing.” 

“Swordsmanship was my only skill.” 

“A stupid one.” 

His lips twisted around his tusks again, but this time with amusement. Large fingers slipped over your cheek, and he pulled your head to him, brushing his lips over yours. His scent and taste were so familiar. It was as if you'd been holding your breath the three years you'd been gone and could finally get some oxygen. When he pulled back, he looked down at you, expression solemn. 

“I wrote you letters. You never wrote back. Did you toss them all out?” 

You shook your head, trying to hold the tears back. The Dragon Slayer crying was embarrassing. You nodded to the small chest where the nurses had placed your belongings. 

Reven crossed the room, opening the box and pulling out a stack of letters tied with a green ribbon you’d come across. 

“I didn’t know what to say. I felt…guilty…I guess.” 

He tossed them on your lap, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Hello. I love you, would have sufficed.” 

“I’m sorry, Reven. I left and ruined myself when I could have been home with you. I could have been happy.” 

“You killed the dragons, accomplished your goal…You aren’t happy?” 

“It feels emptier than I thought it would. I left you alone. Anything could have happened to you, and I would have lost my chance to see you again.” 

He chuckled. 

“I’m not helpless.” 

“I left you alone. It’s unforgivable.” 

“That’s for me to decide.” 

You looked up at him, searching his eyes. 

“You’d forgive me? I don’t deserve it. I got hurt. You told me this would happen, and I didn’t listen. Now I’m just a burden and a fool.” 

He sighed and pushed you to the side, sliding into bed with you before pulling you back into his lap. His nose grazed the column of your neck, and you felt him breathe in your scent.

“Maybe a fool, but never a burden, and being foolish doesn’t make you unlovable. I missed you (Y/N).” 

“I missed you, too.” 

“You weren’t the only fool.” 

“You started dating another bloodthirsty idiot while I was away?” 

“I should have come with you. I was angry at you, but that didn’t last long. Then I was bitter you hadn’t asked me to join you, and I didn’t insist.” 

“Kharma caught up to me.” 

“If you hadn’t lost your hand, would you still be gallivanting over the countryside fighting monsters?” 

“Probably.” 

He buried his face in your neck, and you felt the slight wetness of tears against your skin. 

“I don’t think it was Kharma…I think it was Fate.”

“Fate?”

“Fate spared two idiots unwilling to budge.” 

You sat on those words for a few minutes, the heat of Reven’s body seeping into your bones. You could never quite get warm the entire time you’d been gone, no matter how many furs you donned. You always felt cold, even with the heat of the dragon’s flame singing the tips of your eyelashes. 

“Don’t leave again,” he whispered.

“It wasn’t worth it. I’d read and reread your letters all those lonely nights, wishing I had the strength to abandon my quest and return. I was afraid…I’ve never been afraid before. I’ve killed monsters my whole life and never felt fear, but the thought that you might reject me if I walked through those doors…that I’d come home to find some other lover warming your bed…our home…” 

You felt Reven smile into your skin. 

“There aren’t too many half-feral sword-wielding jocks roaming around Elderoak. That’s what I go for.” 

“Thank you for coming to get me, Reven.” 

“I should have come sooner.” 

“I wouldn’t have listened.” 

“I’m bigger than you. I should have thrown you over my shoulder and taken you home.” 

“And now…?” 

“You could walk…or I could throw you over my shoulder anyway if you like that sort of thing.” 

You twisted your body to snuggle deeper into Reven’s arms. You finally felt warm for the first time in three years. 

“Did the doctor clear you to leave?” 

“They’ve done all they can…they were waiting on me to eat.” 

You felt his chest shudder as he chuckled. 

“You don’t want cold hospital gruel? Spoiled.” 

“Not spoiled enough. I miss your cooking. I want to go home.” 

He hopped to his feet, making you jump as he hoisted you princess-style into his arms. 

“I’ll come back for your things,” he promised as he carried you out the door. 

“Forget about it…It’s just armor and weapons I don’t need anymore. The letters are the only things I want to keep.” 

“Are you sure? They’re a little sad. I missed you so badly…I whined more than anything.” 

“I want them to…remember how unfair it was…everything I put you through to stroke my own pride.” 

He lifted you up to his lips to press a heavy kiss into your forehead. 

“Even if you forget, I’ll make you remember. You left, but I let you go. I’m sorry for that (Y/N).” 

“Then we’re both sorry.” 

Your stomach grumbled loudly, and Reven laughed again. 

“Sorry and hungry. Think you can get down some tavern food? It’s not my cooking, but you can’t wait to eat until we get back to Elderoak.” 

You looked up at him, cupping his thick jaw with your remaining hand.

“In your company, it’s just as good.” 

[constesplanetarium]

✩╔═*.·:·.✧✦✧.·:·.*═╗✩

Scales Scraping against Wood.

☾⚠︎ Stalker Naga x GN! Researcher-ish Reader

✩╚═*.·:·.✧✦✧.·:·.*═╝✩

✧─── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *.✦ .* :★. ───✧

a/n: something small, more in notes at the bottom. this is my first oc fic not made for tumblr, but instead, one i made on my own time :)

Darkness: 2/10: "The smallest mention ever."

TW!!! Light Yandere shenanigans (possessiveness, stalking, collecting your fallen things as a collection.).

Word count: around 800

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

Dark brown eyes look your way as the leaves and twigs crunch under you with every step. Shame you haven’t noticed him yet, up there in the trees, his pale white hands grasping onto the branches as he hopes, for just a little, that you’ll look his way. His tail flicks back and forth happily as he sees that adorable smile on your face that he loves so dear.

Humans never venture into this part of the forest, that he knows, so it’s intriguing to find you here, observing the wildlife without a care. Whether it be nagas like himself, or orcs, or even werewolves, you’ve seen it. Even more, this isn’t your first time. You don't even know about the poisonous, and perhaps carnivorous flowers that lie deep down here, do you? How silly.

Why do the other species get your attention, but not him? Why not?

Maybe one day you’ll observe him from afar, just like he’s watching you now.

White strands of hair fall off his shoulders as he stares at you dreamily, claws scraping at the darkened bark as his white tail, speckled with dark orange and brown, curls around the branch in content as you pick and peer at the daffodils, writing down some things in your small journal, than plucking some up and setting them into your basket.

What he would do for just a peek into your head…

Just a small one. It’s all he needs.

Having lived for so long, humans come and go everyday that passes, as he’s witnessed first hand, but why’re you still here? Why do you keep coming back after all of these days? What’s the purpose? To just gaze at the flowers? It must be more than that, surely.

Medicinal purposes, maybe? Or just for the sake of it?

He jolts up, breaking out of his daydream-like state to see you wandering off again, humming that familiar tune he’s heard from you before.

A wince forms and twitches on his face as he watches you go farther, and farther away from him, claws digging into the branch with frustration. You might hear him if he moves from branch to branch, so maybe moving on the ground is a bit better…

His eyes stay put on you for just a bit longer, watching you bend down to pluck up more flowers and herbs, and you set them down into the basket.

Finally, after some time, he sprawls out his body slowly against the trunk of the tree, claws digging into the bark as he starts to slither down.

The branch feels weak around his tail. Ah, wait, the branch-!

The branch snaps loudly as it falls to the ground with a thud, and you look around as your eyes dart to it, shakily grasping your journal harder as you fidget with the basket in your other hand, rising up onto your feet to make a run for it.

“Wait.” He tries to murmur, reaching a hand out to you, but before he can even get a syllable out, you’re already running away in fear, slipping onto some mud, in which the basket tosses itself out of your grasp. You wince, yet swiftly get up and run off, leaving the basket in fear of your life.

… How pitiful. How unlucky.

Or maybe not unlucky?

It looks like you left a small gift for him.

Slithering down the tree, he gazes dreamily at the fallen flowers on the ground, covered in dirt and mud with the basket beside it all. With a small look around to make sure no one's nearby, he scoops up the flowers and tosses them back into the basket, snatching the handle up. If only you had dropped your journal too…

Well, it doesn’t matter.

Wiping the filth and muck off the petals of each flower with a finger, and flicking it onto the ground, he holds a daffodil up to the sun, small bits of sunshine raying through the petals. He twists it around as the petals become semi-transparent due to the light. How pretty.

Oh, he got so lucky today, to finally have a small piece of you, after watching you for all these days and nights.

Hopefully, you do come back to the forest sometime soon. Did he scare you too much? Ah, what a terrible thing to think about! No way! No way, no way, no way! You’ll come back, won’t you?

Right?

Right? You will, right? Won’t you? He could even give you a small bunch of flowers from deeper inside the forest, so much deeper that no human in their right mind would go there! No one else would ever do that for you, so it makes him special. So, so, very special. And you're so special to him too, even from afar.

Without even noticing it, the flower he was holding has been crushed and ripped beyond repair, his twitching hands wrapped tightly around the basket as he fights back the urge to chase you, never stopping until he finally gets the chance to wrap his arms around you.

Please, do come back.

ミ★ 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴. ★彡

heyy, im back again, sorry for leaving :( i'm trying to get back into the swing of things, but it might take me some time.

it wasn’t burnout, i just had a really big disinterest in writing ever since thanksgiving, and i think its mainly bc of lack of ideas, but also restricting myself to that yandere label, so i think ima branch out a bit from here on out :)

still expect yandere’s though!!!

also i’ve been watching jujutsu kaisen recently, but lets not talk abt that…

[dr3c0mix]

Hi, I just started reading your works and they are fantastic! I saw on your request page that you do teratophilia, but I don't fully know if you do orc, so I wanted to know before I sent in a proper request. If you don't do orc I'll probably request something with a minotaur instead.

Little Duckling

Yandere!Orc x Gn Reader

cw: nsfw, kidnapping, stalking

⚔️ Valeth was a warrior, a dangerous, bloodthirsty orc. One who had the blood of hundreds in his hands. A scar-ridden man whose company consisted of the vile and ruthless, thieves and murderers.

⚔️ So why the hell were you in here??

⚔️ You looked so small, so weak. A tiny creature possibly from a far land from the look of your wide-eyed, innocent face.

⚔️ He stared at you from across the tavern as you happily scribbled on a notebook with a small glass of some sweet drink you ordered.

⚔️ He could hear the laughs and jeers of the other patrons, some giving you less than decent stares at your body, it made him sick.

⚔️ But why? Why is he suddenly so protective of a tiny, weak, small, soft, cute, adorable, fragile doll of a person like you?

⚔️ ...

⚔️ Shit...

⚔️ He pinches the bridge of his nose and gets up from his seat and walks over to where you're sitting.

⚔️ "You better get out of here before you get hurt Duckling."

⚔️ You look at him startled with the cutest eyes, fuuuuckk

⚔️ You ask why with the voice of an angel; the orc bit the inside of his cheek to stop him from smiling.

⚔️ "You new in Phenonia?" He crossed his arms, glancing at the others in the tavern, all of them looking away from you after meeting his gaze.

⚔️ You tell him you're a traveler in search of adventure. He lets out a laugh, giving you a tusk-filled smile.

⚔️ He offers you a walk back to your inn and you happily agree, skipping and rambling about your travels the whole way. Normally he would tune out someone as talkative as you, words he didn't understand going one ear and out the other, but you, you managed to hook him with your explanations of distant lands and the discoveries you made there. He even asked questions and gave you tips and advice for your future adventures in Phenonia.

⚔️ You reach your inn and you bid the large orc goodnight, shaking his calloused hand and heading inside.

⚔️ He stood there for a minute, looking at the hand that touched yours. He felt his face heat up a bit before he shakes his head, trying to get the image of your bubbly smile out of his head. He heads to his home to get some rest but all he can think about is you in the bed next to him. Its not weird is it? god what's wrong with me????

⚔️ You two ran into each other a few more times, Valeth always using the nickname he gave you; Duckling. He says it's because you remind of a little duckling always waddling and smiling at everyone all the time.

⚔️ He helped you out sometimes whenever someone gave you a hard time. It's like he would magically show up to protect you like a big green guard dog. You would always give him that damn smile and treat him to a meal.

⚔️ When you two weren't together, he would be watching you go about your day in a busy street or from behind a merchant cart or crate. He knew your set schedule like the back of his hand, where you'd go for breakfast, your favorite place to rest after a long day, the spot you would always draw at. He would pay friends of his to keep tabs on you to make sure you're safe.

⚔️ You left a scarf once and he found it with an adorable pin that was for favorite bug made from jewels of your favorite colors. He wanted to give it back to you, but he couldn't bring himself to part with it. he found himself taking in the scent of you from it. He imagined you actually there with him as he stroked his cock while moaning into your scarf.

⚔️ Eventually he had enough of merely watching you and quick hand touches, he wanted to know your touch, he wanted to know your taste, he wanted to know the sound of your moans under him.

⚔️One night after an exhausting day of trying to sketch a bird that kept flying away, you see Valeth waiting by your inn. You smile weakly at him and wave, but he just sighs and walks over to you.

⚔️ You start to get a bit uneasy and ask what's wrong but he reaches in his coat and pulls out a cloth.

⚔️ "Sorry for this Duckling.." He mutters to you before pulling you to him, covering your mouth with the cloth. You black out before you could even scream for help.

⚔️ You wake up in a bed full of warm pelts with someone lying next to you. You gasp, remembering what happened and kicked yourself off the bed.

⚔️ Valeth jolts awake and sees you scrambling to your feet on the floor next to the bed. He gets up and quickly pulls you close as you try to wriggle out of his hold.

⚔️ He tries to calm you down, whispering comforting things to you. You fight the tears threatening to run down your face as you feel his breath on your neck.

⚔️ His hands feel you up and down, rubbing you in order to comfort you, but it only serves as a way to scare you even more.

⚔️ He kisses your neck, licking your sweet spots, his tusks ghosting across your skin like a dull blade.

⚔️ "It's alright Duckling, you're safe, it's going to be okay. But you're gonna stay here with me now alright? I'll keep you safe, I promise."

⚔️ He reaches in the drawer next to you two and pulls out your scarf, he puts it on you, crying your teary face with the soft fabric. You hold the scarf close to you, but you still turn away from him.

⚔️ He sighs and puts his hand at the back of your head, bringing your forehead to his.

⚔️ "You'll understand soon enough Duckie...you'll understand how much I love you.."

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

⚔️ Valeth kept you locked in his home after that, always leaving to keep up appearances that nothing happened. Whenever someone asked where you've gone, he said you just left in search of more adventure as you do.

⚔️ He was as tough and stoic as ever when he went out but as soon as he comes back home to his modest house in the edges of the kingdom and sees you, he becomes a giant cuddle bug.

⚔️ This big battle-scared orc turns to putty when he hugs your small form.

⚔️ He still locks the doors and windows from the outside in fear of you leaving him, but it's ok! You can still write about your travels and such! He brings home things he thinks you'd like. Weird stones, leaves, trinkets, anything.

⚔️ He would do anything for you, and you're reminded every day when he cuddles you close, taking in your sweet smell. Everything. Except being let go of course.

⚔️ Sometimes you refuse to eat in hopes of ticking him off but he just laughs and holds you in his arms like a stubborn baby and spoon-feeds you.

⚔️ No matter how much you kick and scream, he's always stronger than you, always shutting down your tantrums as easy as placing his hand over your mouth.

⚔️ Eventually you learn to live with him and his affections, the pile of junk he brought home is rummaged through and actually paid attention to by you, meals are eaten, albeit with you staring daggers into him, but he couldn't be happier.

⚔️ He never forced you to do anything lewd you didn't want to do, but he would sneak off out of bed to watch you, sometimes touch himself to the thought of the day he finally gets permission to bed you.

⚔️ But now, he's satisfied with you just sleeping with him in his arms, his face buried in your hair.

⚔️ "You're mine little Duckling...only mine..."

Thnkank uouyu anon <3 <3 <3

[mlmxreader]

Kingslayer | Thorin Oakenshield x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Thorin

21 "I have spent a lifetime alone... and now I know I'll never be alone again"

36 "It's where I come from"

37 "You can take a lot of things from a man" ❞

: ̗̀➛ When Gandalf hires a sellsword, Thorin takes a liking to them a little bit much.

: ̗̀➛ mentions of murder

: ̗̀➛ @vampiboi

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

You were used to being alone. All your life it was all you had ever known; a cold bed, a quiet room, an empty chair opposite your own. All you had ever known was the cold hand of being alone, and it had become something you had grown numb to; you didn't take any notice of it anymore, as if the chill had become naturalised within your system.

You never knew what it was like to have somebody there with you; you never knew what it was like to be loved and to feel the warmth of home. Home was just some distant rumble amongst the clouds that you didn't understand; you laid your boots wherever you stayed for the night, and never stayed for long either.

Your talents as a tracker and a scout became useful to many, and when you met Gandalf, you were suspicious at first; with his thick grey eyebrows and the brim of his grey pointed hat covering his eyes, you could never be sure what great secrets he kept hidden within his long silver beard.

But money was money, so you agreed to lend him your sword for a while. A skilled fighter, you weren't exactly an uncommon sight amongst other sellswords; but for whatever reason, Gandalf chose you. He hired you for your sword, your tracking abilities, and your scouting skills; you never questioned any more of it, until he handed your contract over to Thorin Oakenshield.

"You're to obey his commands, now," the tall and booming wizard told you. "Thorin will see you are payed fairly."

Money was money. You didn't mind so much. Whatever gold your sword was worth, you weren't one to question who paid for it, or how. You had done many things for some coin in your pocket; slaying orcs, clearing out trolls from caves, destroying goblin nests, slaughtering spiders.

It was all the same to you. Loyalty was not your forte, and Thorin seemed to know that; you were distant from everybody else, and even when the Dwarves were destroying Bilbo Baggins' hobbit hole, you stayed outside. Guarding the door. Just like Gandalf, you were prone to wander and to scout ahead as much as run off to track down something to eat.

But every command Thorin gave you, you executed it without hesitation or question. His money was good, and he was a man of his word. While the others slept, you would stay up, guarding them and watching over them until dawn broke; you didn't have to, but if your employer was to be killed in his sleep, you wouldn't have anyone to pay you.

Gandalf would check in on you on occasion, but whenever he spoke to Thorin about you, he would receive nothing but praise. Thorin had a soft spot, it seemed, and it made the old wizard smile as he nodded along; it was why he had picked you to begin with.

After all he had heard from your previous employers, not only were you perfectly skilled and qualified for the adventure, but you were exactly the type that Thorin liked.

But as the others slept, Thorin couldn't; he knew where you would be, on the edge of the camp that they had made and smoking your pipe, and dragged himself over. Sitting beside you on a rather large rock. He noticed your sword, and the words engraved upon it in your own language; Kingslayer. He raised a brow.

"Kingslayer?"

You nodded. "I killed a king with this sword."

"Why?" Thorin asked, assuming that there must have been a good reason for it.

You shrugged. "He was killing children. Ordering his men to kill them as they slept in their mothers' arms. So I drove my sword through his chest until it came out the other side."

"Were you paid?" He questioned.

You shook your head as you let out a soft laugh. "No. I was paid to kill his second in command. So I did. But when I saw the order... I killed him, too. A bonus, I suppose. Compensation."

"That was noble of you," he said quietly. "Do all sellswords have morals?"

You glared at him for a moment with a raised brow. "No..."

"And what about you?" He asked. "If I offered to pay you, would kill children?"

"I'd have one question," you told him.

"Go on."

"How much?" You asked.

"You can do it yourself, but you don't like it when Kings do?" He asked.

You shook your head, clicking your tongue. "A king who gives the order should be the one to wield the sword."

"And what about me?" Thorin mused. "I give you orders."

"You pay me," you huffed. "I don't give a rat's if you're a king. Money is money."

"And what of loyalty?"

You scoffed. "I'm loyal to the highest bidder. I have no home, no banner, I have no king. I have nowhere, except whoever pays me the most."

"What if I were to buy your services permanently?" He asked. "Would you have a home, a banner, a king, then?"

"You couldn't afford it," you scoffed. "A sellsword is one thing, but a tracker and a scout are another - my rates are higher each day."

"I'm sure I can afford it once I take my home back," Thorin said assuredly. "Your skills are impressive, Kingslayer, you would do well as a guard."

"A guard?" You chuckled. "No one's ever asked me about that before."

"I'm sure no one else has seen how brave you are before," he admitted. "I could give you your own home. You would be your own master."

"But still employed by you," you pointed out.

"Would you consider it?" Thorin questioned.

"If the money was good enough," you agreed. "Thirty gold coins a day."

"I can afford it," he agreed. "Come here."

You stood up as he did, sheathing your sword as you followed him up the small hill, he positioned you in front of himself, and pointed over your shoulder.

"That mountain over there," he started, "it's where I come from. It's my home, and once we reclaim it, you will be my guard. My right hand. You will be in charge of my armies and my affairs. For forty gold coins a day."

You hummed, clenching your jaw at the closeness. There was no doubt that Thorin was beautiful; his dark hair with a spattering of grey here and there when you looked close enough, blue eyes that made sapphires look dull, and his voice... his baritone, thunderous voice.

You cleared your throat as you took a step aside, holding out your hand.

"I will hold you to your word," you warned.

"I'm a king," he chuckled, shaking your hand. "You have not just my word, but my family's honour behind it."

You smiled, still holding onto his hand. "I have spent a lifetime alone... and now I know I'll never be alone again."

Tugging you closer by the hand, Thorin smiled back as he nodded. "You will have me... and I'll forge you a new sword - one of the finest steel and with the sharpest blade. It will cut a dragon's throat."

"Like a black arrow?" You asked.

"Yes," he nodded. "You will shed your Kingslayer title."

You smiled as you laughed softly, shaking your head. "You can take a lot of things from a man - a title earned by action is not one of them."

"Believe me," he whispered, allowing his gaze to drop to your lips. "You won't be the Kingslayer for all time."

[shangchiswife]

dating aragorn headcanons!

hi guys this is the first time in a while that i've written something so i hope that you enjoy. i just recently rewatched lord of the rings and i'm obsessed with aragorn again so here are some headcanons!

aragorn x gn!reader

Aragorn is the biggest gentleman ever. You basically won the lottery when you started dating him.

The lyrics “In a world of boys he’s a gentleman” are about him 100%. Taylor Swift you are not slick at all.

Do not be fooled by his rugged looks, this man is the biggest romantic. He will plan the most romantic dates for the two of you even when he’s busy trying to be King. Even when he’s busy with his kingly duties he will still find a way to shower you with affection. Whether it’s leaving little love notes on your nightstand or bringing you a flower bouquet, he always wants you to make sure that you know that he’s thinking about you.

Aragorn’s love language is through acts of service. He wants to do everything for you. You are his first priority. You’re not feeling well? He’ll drop everything in his schedule to make sure you’re alright. Your weapons aren’t clean? He’ll clean them no problem. You’re cold? Bro will gladly take off his shirt and give it to you so that you’re not cold anymore.

When you guys were trekking through Middle Earth this man made sure that you got as much rest as possible

“Aragorn it’s my turn to take watch” you had said, rubbing your eyes with exhaustion. He walked over to you and put a hand on your shoulder. “You’re still tired, rest, sweet one, I’ll take care of it.” “But-” “No buts,” he said as he pushed you down gently. “Alright well I’m taking your shift tomorrow night,” you grumbled as you put your head in his lap and immediately fell asleep.

Let's just say he didn’t let you take the shift the next day.

He is soooo overprotective of you. He’s always been very protective over those he cares about but he’s especially protective over you since you’re his number one priority. Aragorn's actions are driven by genuine concern and love. He simply cannot bear the thought of losing those he holds dear and will do whatever it takes to keep them safe.

He’s the person who taught you how to fight. You were so embarrassingly bad at first but Aragorn never once made fun of you. He was patient even as you started getting annoyed with training. He was determined to make you a great fighter and it worked.

During the fellowship, you fought fearlessly alongside Aragorn and took down hundreds of orcs together. At one point, Merry even playfully called you guys a power couple because of how hard you both fought together, which made you both grin at each other.

You and Aragorn are basically the hobbits’ parents. They all love you so much and look up to you both with the utmost respect. You both admire them a lot too. Their loyalty and determination never fail to inspire both of you to keep going, even when things get tough and the future feels uncertain.

You’re also best friends with Gimli and Legolas. They have so much respect for you. They are also always trying to one-up each other when it comes to you so they can be your favorite. Spoiler alert you could never choose between them!

Gimli often pretends to be grossed out by displays of affection between you and Aragorn, and likes to tease the two of you with mock disgust. “Oh, just get a room already!” he’d say which would make you and Aragorn laugh. However, deep down, he secretly harbors a soft spot for romance and enjoys witnessing the love and affection between you two. He may grumble and groan about it on the surface, but in reality, he finds it heartwarming to see the bond you share and the happiness you bring each other. 

Aragorn isn’t really big on PDA but once you’re alone together, he's affectionate and attentive, making sure you feel cherished and cared for in every moment you share.

In public, he keeps it subtle with affection, but every now and then, he'll gently caress your palms or hold your hand, just enough to let you know he's there. It's his quiet way of showing love without drawing too much attention.

This man loves to give you forehead kisses. Whether you're feeling on top of the world or weighed down by the challenges of the day, Aragorn's forehead kisses are his way of saying that he’s always going to be there for you.

You often find yourself snuggled against his chest, your hand resting over his heart while his arm encircles you protectively. His fingers trace gentle patterns on your skin, a soothing sensation that relaxes you. 

He also has the softest singing voice. It’s so pretty. He mostly sings old Elvish tunes but sometimes he’ll sing some songs in English.

You and Aragorn both share a love for animals, and you often find yourselves adopting stray creatures in need of a home. He's clearly a dog person through and through (I don't make the rules), but he has a soft spot for cats as well.

You love it when Aragorn tells you stories about his past. Whenever he starts recounting his adventures, you're all ears, completely mesmerized by his past. Secretly he loves your fascination with his stories and it fills him with a quiet sense of warmth.

You have a shared love for adventure and often find yourselves exploring new places together, whether it's hiking through scenic landscapes or just going around Gondor.

He is also the best listener. You tend to yap a lot but he does not seem to care at all. He will listen attentively, asking questions every so often, drinking in your every word. He always wants to make sure that you feel heard. 

Aragorn also dreams about starting a family with you. He's always imagined the joy of being a father and raising children together, but he'll only take that step if you're both on board and excited about it. Your comfort and readiness are his top priorities, and he wants nothing more than to embark on this adventure together, hand in hand.

[bg-brainrot]

Hugs for a Vampire (Astarion x GN!Reader) - Chapter 4: After Encountering Araj

Chapter 4: After Encountering Araj

Each chapter can be read as a standalone hug.

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader (Rogue!Tav)

Genre: Fluffy, Filling in Canon

Rating: Teen

Tags: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, POV Second Person, Act 2, Canon-typical violence, cw: Astarion's past, Feelings Realization

WC: 3k words, 4/18 chapters

Summary: Set in Act 2 after infiltrating Moonrise and meeting Araj, a retelling of the Act 2 romance with some extra dialogue. The canon-hug!

Ao3 | [Hug3][Hug5] | Hugs for a Vampire Masterlist

Your team is tired. It’s been several days of travel through the Cursed Shadowlands, and you, for one, can’t wait for this damned curse to be lifted. You’ve done all you can with Halsin’s help, all that’s left is to defeat Ketheric. The man’s demise can’t come swiftly enough, especially after you had the absolute honor of meeting him yesterday.

Infiltrating Moonrise Towers was surprisingly easy for your group. You simply said you belonged there and everyone seemed to trust you, all because of the worm that takes residence in your skull. It probably helped that it was a short visit: free some prisoners, meet Ketheric, scope out the location, run into a slew of its inhabitants and leave as soon as you get the information you need.

There were a few moments of awkwardness in your adventure. You told off a disgusting drow woman who made Astarion uncomfortable, a cat insulted you and your hunting, and a half-orc was utterly entranced by your lust filled thoughts of Astarion. And that was all in the span of a few hours.

It’s no wonder that today’s been a bit calmer for you all. Your team is on the outskirts of the towers, searching the remains of its previously bustling settlement. However, being out of the lion’s den doesn’t mean you feel any less tense today.

Astarion has been oddly distant since you left Moonrise yesterday. You can’t help but worry for him, knowing that he takes to sulking alone at times. Perhaps the tower was a reminder of bad memories? Maybe the reality of your situation was just too much right now.

Either way, you know that it’s you that needs to get to the bottom of it, as he keeps sneaking glances your way. Each time you catch him looking, his gaze darts away and his brow furrows as he stares at the ground. It might be comical if it didn’t instill a deep concern in you.

Honestly, you’d ask him what was wrong here and now if it weren’t for your companions, Shadowheart and Karlach. They have certainly noticed something amiss, Astarion is almost never without a quick quip, but they decide not to acknowledge it. Despite his occasional bravado, he’s a private person, and it wouldn’t do to corner him as a group.

And so, the rest of your day is spent in an awkward silence, somehow amplified by the eerie stillness surrounding you. You decide to search through the Mason’s Guild, hoping for a palette cleanser to help your team feel like themselves again. For one particular teammate to feel like himself again.

As you had hoped, it’s not difficult work. At one point Karlach even whines to you, “Soldier, I’m bored. Aren’t we going to see some action today?”

She, of course, gets her wish moments later when your group faces off against some Shadow Vestiges. 

“Please be more careful next time,” Shadowheart chides, healing a wound on Karlach’s arm after the battle. “The Lady of Sorrows can only do so much when you charge into a group like that.”

The tiefling laughs at that and flexes her arm a bit. “How else am I going to impress our leader?” She shoots you a wink and a smile, which you deftly deflect with a thumbs up.

“Consider me impressed, Karlach,” you call into the wide room with an echo. “I’m swooning!”

She comments something in approval, but you don’t catch it as you see Astarion slinking off into the dark recesses of the Mason’s Guild. You excuse yourself, humor leaving your voice as you follow him into the shadows.

You think you hear Astarion muttering to himself, swearing, and you follow the sound to him. When you finally find him, the vampire just looks at you, eyes dark and face torn. It’s been too much for you to bear all day, and you can’t help but snap at him now, “Do you need to talk?”

“Later,” he says, through gritted teeth. His eyes close and he softens his expression, “Please, just come by my tent later.”

You relent for now, but it’s only a short while later that you decide to call it an early day. “For no reason,” you say to Karlach, when she asks why. “We’ve just had a rough couple of days.”

Shadowheart, catching the way your eyes trail Astarion, places a hand on Karlach’s shoulder. “You need to rest that wound of yours, alright?”

Karlach visibly slumps, but says, “Alright. Goddess’s orders or something, I guess.”

Finally leaving the land surrounding Moonrise in your dust, you head back to camp. 

___

You head toward Astarion’s tent at the first opportunity. You’re resolved to get to the bottom of what might be bothering him. Whatever it is, it can’t be worse than illithids or Cazador– in short, nothing that you can’t handle together. On the way, you try to convince yourself you would go to any lengths for all of your companions. Underneath it all, you know that you would go a bit further for this particular man. Leave it to me to link my happiness to the emotions of a vampire, you think to yourself, annoyed.

You shake the scowl off your face before turning the corner to Astarion’s tent. Once you approach, you find that he’s already standing there, waiting for you expectantly.

“I want to thank you,” he says, starting off the conversation once you’re close enough. He seems oddly unsure, either of how to approach the subject or of the very words coming out of his mouth.

Raising a single eyebrow at him, your worry takes a secondary role to the confusion his words cause. “You’re welcome?” you question, not sure what prompted such a sentence from his lips.

“For what you said, while I was in front of that vile drow,” he explains, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. His voice begins heating up as he continues, “I spent two hundred years using my body to lure pretty things back for my Master. What I wanted, how I felt about what I was doing, it never mattered.”

You take a step towards him, your heart reacting to the pain in his words, to the anger on his face. Despite getting closer over the past several weeks, you still feel scared to console him, afraid he’ll take off like a skittish cat. You decide that this is enough for now, saying just his name, “Astarion…”

He doesn’t startle, only continues a bit calmer, “You could have asked me to do the same– to throw myself at her, what I wanted be damned. But you didn’t.” He sounds in awe at the very idea, his red eyes wide. “And I’m grateful.”

Understanding fully dawns on you now, as you see the situation from his perspective. Leveling a serious look at him, you say earnestly, “I didn't want you to do something you don’t want to do. Actually, I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do.” You hope that your words ring as fiercely as you feel them.

“It’s a novel concept I admit. And a… a little intimidating.” His eyes are big, fear at war with a warmth at your words. “It would have been so easy to bite her. To just go along with what I was being told to do.” Astarion continues flippantly now, waving a hand as he speaks, “A moment of disgust to force myself through. And then I could have carried on, just like before.”

A transaction. He says it so casually, masking the pain that you know he feels. But you’re still a person, a person who might have been just another checkmark on his to-do list, another thing to force himself through. Despite yourself, you’re hurt. Afraid of the answer, but needing it all the same, you ask, “So why sleep with me? Did you think you’d get something from it?”

“Of course, I needed protection,” he laughs, and you can feel your heart pounding painfully against your chest in response. He remains casual though, so you temper your hurt, waiting for his full answer. “People don’t trust vampires– perhaps understandably– so I needed to get someone on my side. And seducing you was easy, frankly.”

You look at him skeptically, recalling that it was not, in fact, easy. “Huh, okay. We might be remembering that a bit differently.” But you motion for him to continue– as far as ‘thank yous’ go, this one has been distinctly gut-wrenching, and you hope that he’s reaching a point.

“So imagine how stupid I felt…” he says, eyes darting away nervously. Cautiously, Astarion returns his eyes to you– his face is open, bearing an expression more vulnerable than any you’ve seen from him. “When I started to genuinely feel something for you.”

Your breath catches in your throat, brain processing what he’s just said far too sluggishly. What, you think to yourself, did he say?

Reading the shock on your face, he continues to clarify, “Trust me, I was not happy about it. You were a complication I didn’t see coming. And yet…” His voice trails off, looking at you as if daring himself to be hopeful.

You already know your answer, what your heart feels. You’ve known for quite some time, resisting it all the while, thinking he could never feel the same way. But here you are now, his wide eyes and exposed heart waiting for you to say something– anything. Wracking your brain, you think of the skittish cat again. You don’t want to scare him or seem disingenuous, not now. You settle on a simple, achingly honest, “I care about you.”

“Really?” he asks, breathless in the moment, eyes wide in anticipation. The anxious optimism is written plainly on his face and your body moves, almost on instinct.

You’ve been so afraid to be tender before, worrying that he may not feel the same way or even believe you. Now though, you know this is the best way to show how you truly feel. To make him realize that you don’t see him as a body to take pleasure in or as someone who serves as a means to an end.

You close the distance between you, wrapping him in a full-body hug. 

He seems surprised at the sudden contact. Unlike any embrace you’ve had before, it’s not sexual, it’s not tentative. It’s simply full of all of the love you can muster.

After a second’s hesitation, you can feel him move to hug you back, his hands come to rest on your back softly. You squeeze him to yourself a bit tighter in response, and he leans into you, his head tucking into the crook of your neck. You stand like that for a long moment, the camp around you long forgotten, the world, your problems, they might as well be in another plane of existence. The feel of his arms around you, the tickle of his hair on your skin, the warmth you’re sharing – it feels so utterly intimate. More than anything else you’ve done together thus far.

When the time comes, you’re reluctant to let go. You know it has to be you to break it though. With the way he’s leaning into you, the pressure of his body pressing into yours, Astarion may never break this hug. But let go you do, standing back a step to take in the man before you.

Awe colors his pale face, as if he can’t believe that this is really happening. He takes a second to blink at you before saying, “You… you’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” 

You chuckle in response, shooting him a wry smile, “I think my feelings may only be a surprise to you, Astarion.” You have a sneaking suspicion that at least a few members of your merry crew are exchanging knowing looks at each other right now, watching this drama unfold from the comfort of their tents.

“Honestly,” he gives a shaky laugh. “I have no idea what we’re doing. Or what comes next.”

He slowly holds out his hand to you, a cautious invitation. It’s a simple gesture, but you’re not certain you’ve ever just… held his hand before. It almost makes you timid. You push down the butterflies and place your hand in his, looking up to find his ruby eyes intensely focused on you. The affection in his eyes wash away all of your nerves, and the smile that comes to your face is beaming.

Reading your expression, Astarion gets a step closer. He places his second hand atop yours and says, “But I know that this... this is nice.”

Then he just smiles at you, eyes crinkling in pure, unfiltered joy, and it reaches to your core. It feels like sunshine after a storm, a light in the murky depths of the Shadowlands. You think you could live off of his smile alone.

Again, you stand together for a moment, drinking in the feelings that have surfaced, basking in this nervous little bliss you’ve built together. By the time you break apart, your hand has warmed his cool skin and you can hear the sounds of your companions continuing camp life around you.

You give an awkward cough, not sure what to do next. The relationship between you has changed, but you’re not sure how yet, or how you should approach it. Nothing your usual wit can’t handle, you suppose. “And here I was, worried all day that some new, undying horror was plaguing you.”

“Gods above, I wish,” he says dramatically. “But no, it was the far more difficult matter of my stupid heart versus my beautiful, pragmatic brain.”

“I’m sad I didn’t get to witness the epic battle,” you give him a disappointed face that does nothing at all to mask the glee you feel at imagining his thoughts firmly revolving around you all day.

Astarion gives you a reluctant smirk before saying, “You missed a bloodbath. Last night, I stared at the roof of my tent, just considering all of the ways you may reject me. Like some kind of pining prepubescent boy.” His face winces at the image. “I thought I may never feel like myself again.”

While amusing, you’re surprised he thought you would ever reject him. “I always thought you were the perceptive one. Did you really not notice how I felt?”

He gives a light laugh at your incredulity. “My love,” your heart thrills at the new pet name. “I make hearts race regularly– whether from fear or lust, who am I to say?” Astarion gives you a sidelong look before continuing in a slightly sullen tone, “Besides, you’ve always seemed incredibly close to Karlach, I didn’t want to presume.”

“Ah, yes. She tried,” you look a bit abashed, thinking back to the night she asked you for something more. “But… I wasn’t sure what we had. And I didn’t want to ruin it, no matter what it was.”

“Seems I should have trusted your good taste.” He looks proud, but somehow you’re certain that it’s not just pride in himself. “You are incredible.”

You feel almost overwhelmed at his praise. If this is what being in a relationship with him is like, you’re not certain your heart will be able to handle it. While you consider that thought, the question of your relationship begins burning a hole in you. “So,” you drawl, not certain how to broach the subject. You’re still incredibly careful about scaring him off, especially when the connection you’ve built is such a new, delicate thing. “What exactly are…  we?” You add on, “To you?” as a safeguard. He needs to know that he can formulate his own opinion and you won’t push the matter. 

He produces an anxious little sigh, “I don’t know. But isn’t it nice, not to know?”

The look you give him is likely more nervous than you intend. “I suppose.”

“Ugh, you’re not a victim, not a target, not just one night it’s better to forget. But then… whatever in the world could you be?” Astarion looks confused, desperate for an answer he’s not ready for.

You know it’s not your place to give it to him. And, to be honest, even this admission makes your heart feel full, comforted. “That’s okay,” you respond. “Let’s take our time, figure it out together?”

“I’d like that.” His small smile is genuine and his hand is back on yours, squeezing gently.

An involuntary yawn escapes you, the day’s exertions catching up to you as the conversation winds down. “Oh, sorry,” you cover your mouth with your free hand. “I didn’t mean to–”

“No need to worry, darling.” He lifts the hand he’s holding to his lips and leaves a cool, gentle kiss before continuing, “It’s late. Our feelings will still be there in the morning.” He shoots you an anxious glance before continuing, “I hope.”

You grin at him, all too happy to reassure him. This is new to you both, but especially to a vampire who hasn’t known a gentle embrace in centuries. “I’m afraid you can’t be rid of me that easily. I’m not a wound that can heal up overnight, you know.”

Astarion leans into you to say, “If you were, I think I’d simply never sleep again.”

Your heart races at his weird little compliment. And, while your body begs you for the sweet relief of sleep, your head and heart scream at you to stay awake, to while away the rest of the night next to him and relish in whatever it is that’s blossoming here.

He can sense your hesitation to leave and tugs on your hand gently. “I’m probably doing this all backwards, but would you like to sleep with me? Not,” he stresses quickly, “sex. Just… resting together, perhaps?”

“Yes, please,” you say, earnestly. “I’d love to know what was so fascinating about the ceiling of your tent.”

Your new paramour shoots you an annoyed look, but continues to pull you after him, leading you to his bedroll. His hand is warm from your touch and you silently swear to keep it that way.