#*hears screaming* gender

[zer0pm]

Imagine waking up with Luis sleeping on top of you while you both take shelter from the storm.

Warning: suggestive content 🤫

A/N: editted for mistakes and added upon by just a little for your reading pleasure ;) thanks for your time

“Think it’s safe?”

“Only one way to find out. ¡Vamos! Into certain danger we go!”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and groan. This man’s optimism was breathtaking, confident in his strides towards the abandoned looking house that you two discovered. You follow behind him, careful in your own steps and had your gun drawn at the ready in case of any unfriendly encounters. Thankfully, your entrance went unanswered and after a thorough search of the building, you both confirm that the coast is clear. Finally, a safe space to squat and wait out the storm.

Sighing in relief, you didn’t realize how exhausted you were until you took a seat on a rickety wooden chair in what you assumed to be the remains of a dining area. Running around avoiding countless plaga in the pouring rain took a lot of your energy and your weary state did not go unnoticed.

Luis speaks addresses you. “Why don’t you take a rest, my friend? There is a bed upstairs. I do not think the owners will mind it.”

Your brow lifts upon reflex, tempted by the idea of laying on something soft after hours of running for your life. However, the consideration of well-being for your present company outweighed your desire to address your own. So you counter him, “And what about you? You look just as bad as I do.”

The man dismisses your suggestion with a wave of his hand, “I’ll keep watch. Make sure no scary monsters come bumping in the night. No te preocupes, I’ll be fine.”

Always the gentleman this one.

Still, you weren’t going to let him get away with it. Especially at the sight of the dark circles beneath his eyes. Chivalry be damned. You take a moment to absorb your dusty surroundings and listen closely to the weather. The two of you were lucky to even find this place amidst the pouring rain and you were certain there wouldn’t be any uninvited guests coming in to hack you both into pieces anytime soon with how bad this storm is raging.

“Pretty sure we’re safe here, Luis. Can’t see anything in this damn rain and place looks like it hasn’t been occupied in ages. Plus, with Leon Kennedy roaming about, think Saddler is commanding his minions to focus more on him than us.” You wave your finger around the air, figuratively drawing the argument back at him. “So if you need some shut-eye too, I was told there’s a bed upstairs.”

Luis chuckles breathlessly, evidently amused at how you effectively countered him. He then hums aloud, seemingly taking your reasoning with careful consideration before a coy smile curves upon his handsome face.

“Qué lindo. So stubborn just to get me to lie with you.”

The color drains from your face in an instant.

“Now hold on a minute-“

The man cuts you off with a rambunctious laugh. “You’re much too easy to tease, my friend. Very well, then. You win!” he says with an affirmative clap before making his way to the stairs. Halfway up, he stops in his tracks to look down at you. “Well? You coming?”

You wait to see if he would follow up with further teasing. When he didn’t, you wordlessly got up from the chair and joined him. As he said, there is indeed a bed on the far wall of the room. Like the rest of the house, it looks like it had seen better days but neither of you were in a position to be picky especially when sleep was beckoning. You approach the bed and lift the sheets off, dusting as much as you can before setting it back down and doing the same for the pillows. The bed was big enough for two people, so it should be fine to share without worrying about bumping into one another in your sleep.

“There,” you huff, satisfied with how you prepared the bed. “Is there a side you prefe-“

Your voice catches in your throat when you turn around and take in the sight of Luis’ bare back. It was only when you see him fidgeting with the zipper of his pants did you find it again.

“What are you doing?!” you practically screech.

The dark-haired man glances casually at you over his broad shoulder, not at all bothered by your sharp tone.

“What does it look like? I’m making myself comfortable,” shrugs Luis. “I suggest you do the same. You’ll get sick if you sleep in wet clothes.”

The desire to argue for the sake of arguing was strong, but you found yourself distracted by his physique. For a man who claims to be just a “simple researcher”, he is pretty cut. The definitions of his muscles are both impressive and pleasing to the eye. It didn’t help that the man is devilishly good-looking as well, not that you will ever say that out loud. The man’s ego was big enough as it is.

If you were taking too long to speak up, Luis didn’t say. He turned his head away from your direction. “I won’t look, prometo. And I’ll take the left side. Muchas gracias.”

A man of his word, Luis did not once look your way as he wordlessly went to his side of the bed and slips himself beneath the sheets. After a moment of inner conflict, you heed his advice and strip yourself down to your underwear as well, taking your clothes and his to hang off the stair railing. Finally reaching the bed, you see that Luis was still lying on his side. The heavy breathing your ears pick up suggests that he’s fast asleep. Although your heart was beating frantically, you settle under the covers as well. Your form mirroring his with your back towards him. Sleep came quickly.

You’re not sure how much time has passed when you woke up, you only know that it is still storming outside… and Luis Serra is on top of you.

His whole body is practically draped over yours. He partially lied with his chest both against the bed and on your side. The heavy weight of his right arm was wrapped around your middle with his hand resting almost possessively on your hip. You can feel his breath fan against your neck, leaving warm, lingering tingles upon your skin. It suddenly felt impossibly hot in this chilly room.

You didn’t need to see the man’s face to know he is still sleeping, snoring soundly against your ear. Careful not to wake him, you tried to move away. However, the moment you fidgeted, Lus stirs and his hand moves from your hip to your shoulder, effectively keeping you in place.

Well, then. This is awkward.

The idea of waking him up came to mind but you thought better against it. Why embarrass you both and deny the other some meaningful rest? That was the excuse you came up with as you feel the man nuzzle against your neck and shoulder. The scratch of his facial hair feeling wonderful against your skin. An involuntary sigh of pleasure escapes your mouth and you had to bite your bottom lip to stop more from coming out. You needed to pull yourself together. The man is sleeping, for god’s sake, and here you were, getting hot and bothered.

Just as you were about to accept your situation with grace, you feel Luis move once more. Followed by a lethargic groan, he twists until he is on his back, withdrawing his hand from your person until it rested on his sculpted abdomen. His eyes are still closed. His expression is peaceful, absent of the coquettish mask he usually wears. The man looks impossibly beautiful like this and you found yourself reaching a curious hand towards his face. You manage to stop right before his cheek, mesmerized by his sleeping form. If lives weren’t on the line, you’d watch him forever.

“How long have you been awake?”

The sound of his thick accent made you jolt, retreating your hand back to your side. You almost thought you were imagining Luis’ voice until your eyes catch the flutter of his lashes. Grey eyes peeking in your direction.

Unable to think of anything better to say, you candidly answer back, “How long have you?”

The Spaniard grins wryly. “Tocado. Point taken.”

He turns his head, his expression telling that the man is well-rested and now focused entirely on you. There was something in his eyes that you cannot place. Or more accurately, there was an emotion within them that you recognized all too well as you were certain you had the same burning in yours but dared not to acknowledge our loud. You mimic his movements, ensnared by his magnetic gaze. When he turned his body so that he was completely facing you, you did the same. Neither of you have broken eye contact. In the corner of your vision, you see him lift his hand until it hovered over your hip at the exact same spot it was before. Luis doesn’t lower it, however, his eyes silently asking for your permission. A slight nod from you was the sign he was waiting for and you are graced by his warm touch once more.

His thumb caresses soft patterns against your hip bone, teasing the skin beneath the band of your underwear. Your breath hitches, his subtle touches already stirring something fierce inside you.

“¡Mierda! Don’t make that face.” the man growls, wearing a serious, pained expression. You blink in confusion. Instead of elaborating right away, Luis earnestly squeezes your hip, earning a wanton gasp from your mouth, and pulls you in against him by the curve of your back.

“If you keep looking at me like that, mi amor,” he says through gritted teeth, his hot breath mingling with yours. “I won’t be able to savor you slowly.”

That undid you.

You weren’t sure which of you two closed the distance. While the storm was pouring freezing rain outside, you and Luis kept one another plenty warm inside.

.

.

A/N: Thanks for reading. You can find the next (Rated M) part here ;)

[epavirees]

sorry my audio quality is So Bad but honestly i'm still reliving this exact moment in my brain, such a life-altering moment

[rivilu]

quick! in the (more) fucked up and evil timeline where a durge joins the party,

[binders-and-beanies]

.

[clonerightsagenda]

I think what strikes me most about Marissa having the same talent as Lucy is how much of a betrayal it is. Because of his past, Lockwood hates ghosts and wants to destroy them. George finds them scientifically interesting but not due the same respect as a living human. And that's all a lot easier if your experience of them is 'scary apparition that hurts me'. But Lucy can empathize with them. She feels their pain and sorrow. Even when she can't speak with them directly, she still tries to communicate and find out what they need. Marissa can do that too. It's ambiguous how much she's been psychically enthralled, but she more than almost anyone can understand the dead, and she builds a whole industry on treating them like vermin while trapping them in hell as livestock.

[kruxton]

absolutrly no way j had the most fucked up dream ever last night. oh my GODDDD

[abyssalpriest]

And now I can physically smell the sea oh OK. Hold on

...... I Je Rudra yeah you sure are

[nellectronic]

people who have changed their names. how do you Know

[kirishwima]

my friend: yeah i believe non-binary isn't a thing and it's dumb and bs

me, non-binary: :) okay

[ahalliance]

i cannot express how much the words ‘miss/mademoiselle’ piss me off. love the double whammy of getting misgendered and a reminder of the weird fucking double status when it comes to men and women’s titles

[famewolf]

the most wild shit happened at work yesterday and while i dont really want to go into it publicly, I will say that I hope this lady is fired.

[inkskinned]

what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?

i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?

a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?

in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.

girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.

there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.

for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.

something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.

is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.

most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."

a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.

[betterthanmemelous]

Love the people who would rather talk about removing human rights instead of our planet fucking burning.

[lazi4ss]

That's Not My Milkman

masterlist

Warning: slight gore but not that detailed, doppleganger Francis

Gender neutral reader

(NOT MY ART, I FORGOT WHOS TIKTOK THIS IS FROM BUT CREDITS TO YOU!)

"So... Is everything in check?"

A tired voice mumbled out as your eyes trailed up from the ID and entry request in your hands to the source of the sound. Tired hazel eyes stared back at you as Francis rubbed the back of his neck.

You felt bad, here you were double and triple-checking everything while the exhausted and probably underpaid milkman was there standing and waiting to be let in. But it's for everyone's safety so don't feel too bad. You gave a small smile as you handed back his paperworks. Everything seems to check out and you were going to let him in but... what's that on his uniform sleeve?

You squinted your eyes as you scanned the cuff of his right sleeve. His gaze travelled to where you were looking and with a shrug of his shoulders he lifted his hand to give you a clear view. And it is in fact blood, and by the looks of it, quite fresh too. How come you didn't notice it before?

You raised an eyebrow, one hand slowly inching closer to the danger button as you tried to be subtle and casual about it. Because what the heck? He was confident enough to show you something so suspicious without batting an eye.

"Sooo... Uhm. Anything you want to share?"

You casually asked, yet nervousness was laced in your tone. He sighed, keeping his composed and nonchalant act as put his hand down, burying it in his pocket as he dragged his free hand on his face. If he's a doppelganger then he's really going the extra mile to act or seem believable.

"Mmm. I know you're on edge."

He mumbled, gaze traveling from your hand that was ready to press the danger button to your face. Staring a little too long as he examined your features. You got a very pretty face yet it was filled with mistrust. Shame. Catching himself, he quietly scoffed under his breath. Good job Francis, already had the doorperson suspicious of you.

"But this is not what it looks like. I injured my hand earlier with a broken glass, blood must've gotten on my uniform accidentally."

He finished, not breaking the staring contest you two have started. You don't quite seem to believe that story, but it was plausible. There was a tense silence for a while before you broke it.

"Show me your wound."

You requested and again, another tense silence. He didn't look like he was going to comply. Just you and him staring down at each other. No one backing down and tearing their eyes away.

"... Fuck."

He quietly hissed and that was enough confirmation for you. You pressed the button immediately, grabbing the phone as you dialed the D.D.D. A familiar voice on the other end confirms and tells you that agents are on their way.

You sighed in relief, although that didn't last long as you heard banging on the glass pane separating you and the doppelganger. Thank God those were strong enough to withhold the assaults. You should've been shaking in your seat right now, and you were albeit not so intense, but it was the first time you came across the quiet and aloof milkman's doppel.

Hell, it was the first time you even saw Francis up front, not just out of the picture in the folder provided for your job. Out of curiosity, you raised the metal shutters to take a peek at it. And what greeted you was a snarling, red-eyed Francis. His features twisted in rage as he banged on the glass repeatedly.

"Let me in, Y/n!"

He growled, to which you shut the metal blinds again on his face in response as you heard the agents barge in. You thought it would be like last time, after a while they would let you know that the cleanup was successful and that they would be on their way back. Easy peasy, right? Oh how wrong you were. Turns out, this one was putting up quite a fight.

You could hear shouting, a lot of screaming, and the sound of something sharp slashing at flesh. Wet sounds of people gurgling in what you presumed to be their own blood... That was disturbing. You were almost too scared to pull up the shutters to see what was going on. But suddenly the noises stopped. Did they catch him? Was it finally over?

With shaking hands, you pressed the danger button off. The blinds slowly ascended and holy shit, the sight was like something out of a nightmare. It was straight up a blood bath. The agents' bodies were piled on the right side. Some missing their heads, missing their upper or lower half, and others' stomachs were ripped out and just generally shredded and torn. But that wasn't what you saw first.

It was Francis, or well, his doppelganger, with blood splattered on his clothes and a little getting on his cheek. His forearm was resting on the glass as he leaned. His mouth opened and formed a smirk as he panted, breathing heavily while glaring at you. His left hand fiddled with the blood-drenched tie on his neck.

If he wasn't a murderous doppelganger, you would've swooned. But alas, you can't have nice things in life. You blinked at him before pressing the button again,

"Wait- damn it!"

He called out but the windows were closed off again as you dialed the number quickly. Yet again, the same old thing was said, another batch of agents were dispatched. You waited, fidgeting in your seat as you heard him call out to you.

"Come on... I'm sorry Y/n, I didn't mean to frighten you. Can you open the door?"

He tried to coax you with that voice... That smooth and deep voice that sounded so tired, on the verge of begging you... Wait what-

You shook your head, patting your cheeks lightly because what the hell was that? Such intrusive thoughts are not welcome while your life's in danger!

More screaming and shouting was heard as the agents arrived and you could tell they were much more prepared than the last batch. Gunshots can be heard but another animalistic growl pulled you out of your thoughts. Everything went silent again. You stay rooted on your spot as the only thing that can be heard in the air is your quivering gasps and heavy breathing on the other side of the glass panel.

Is he still there? You thought as you turned off the danger button again. More bodies were piled up on the left corner and surprise surprise, he was still alive, albeit in a rougher shape than previously. He wasn't wearing his milkman hat anymore, letting his brown messy hair show. His uniform was missing three buttons at the top, slightly showing his chest, bowtie was nowhere to be found.

He was still drenched in blood but what stunned you was what he was doing. His form raised and dropped as he inhaled and exhaled heavily, tired hazel eyes staring back at you as his eyebrows scrunched up. His hands pressed together in a pleading manner. Is he actually begging?

"Y/n, let me in... Please?"

[euthymiya]

[ ASKING PRICE — FT. KINICH ]

synopsis: kinich isn’t so happy that you spend time with ajaw. you’re more than willing to pay the price to make up for it

before you read: gender neutral reader ; established relationship ; slightly jealous kinich (of ajaw getting more attention) ; ajaw cameo! ; lots of kisses ;) (kinich not ajaw)

You laugh, and Kinich’s vein all but pops.

Normally, he’s agitated by Ajaw on most hours of most days. That much is a well known fact. But not today, though—because today, he’s absolutely infuriated. (And no, this is not on a limited, conditional, restricted, contractual, partial, temporary basis. This anger is very much here to stay and not go anywhere.)

You’re here to complete a commission with him, not spend your time giggling with a certain saurian. And your kindness is very much wasted going towards someone as pompous as Ajaw—still, there’s a part of him that admires it. Only you could manage to be kind to someone as difficult to get along with.

What he doesn’t admire, however, is that you happen to be the one person Ajaw also doesn’t mind being kind to. (Well, as kind as someone like Ajaw can get, that is.)

“—and when the Almighty Dragonlord, K'uhul Ajaw summons the howling winds, and sets the whole world ablaze, you can be the only survivor!”

It’s a grating voice, Kinich thinks distantly, rolling his eyes at the way you chuckle and give a grateful nod, entertaining the pure nonsense of a fool. Ajaw has approximately the same brain power as a dead saurian. That’s to say: none. How you manage to laugh at jokes made by such a simpleton is beyond the comprehension of someone like Kinich—but he supposes you’ve always been kind to a fault. A pity laugh certainly isn’t something you’re above, he supposes.

“Will I have the luxury of ruling by your side as your trusty sidekick?” You play along. It seems to please the dragon, earning a haughty laugh.

“I suppose you can have a small corner to call yours,” he agrees, “just make sure you push that slimy, slithering, miserly worm off a cliff and I’ll allow it.”

You glance over at Kinich as soon as the words are uttered by the obnoxious loud mouth beside you, and he can feel the last of his veins snap—that is, until you smile, giving him a playful wink.

“I’ll see what I can do,” you giggle.

“See?” Ajaw turns to look at him, making Kinich’s eye twitch ever so slightly. “You should be more like this one! The Almighty Dragonlord—h-huh? Hey!”

“Kinich!” You scold, watching as Ajaw cuts himself off with a scream, flying off into the distance from one irritated flick of Kinich’s fingers.

“What?” He huffs, crossing his arms as you throw your head back and laugh.

“You’re cute, you know. When you get like that.”

“Like what?” It comes out as a grumble. A rather petulant one, at that—he almost cringes hearing it in his own tone.

He knows what you mean, too. You know he does, so you reach over to ruffle his hair as his lips curl into a deeper frown. It’s not lost on you, however, that he almost seems to lean into your touch, almost seems to savor the feeling of your palm against his head.

“It’s cute when you’re jealous,” you tease. “Adorable, you know? Seeing you sulk is a bit rare.”

“I was not sulking,” he protests. That, of course, pulls a laugh out of you that makes him sulk even harder. “And I’m not jealous. Being jealous of Ajaw is absurd.”

“Oh but I think you were,” you nudge his shoulder, lips stretching into a knowing grin as he grunts. “Don’t worry, I’d never push you off a cliff.”

“That’s because you’d never manage to,” he shrugs. You give him a playful scowl as you huff, you don’t know that, under your breath. He fights back an amused smile, trying to keep his seriousness in tact. “Have you had enough fooling around? We have a commission to complete. You’re going to make me lose out on mora.”

“Is that so?” You say thoughtfully.

By now, Kinich knows that face. It’s not a very welcomed face, either—it means trouble for him. Some form of scheming on your end that almost always ends with you getting what you want, and almost always ends with him walking away as a loser of sorts. It’s his own fault, of course. Being powerless against your charms is a weakness he’s not entirely managed to overcome yet.

But he’s trying—and he’ll get it one day. He’s sure of it.

“I don’t like that face,” he says dryly, eyeing you cautiously.

“What face?” You gasp, mock innocence feigned even as the mischief creeps into your eyes. He can see it. Sense it. Feel it. Almost like he can tell a foe is coming even before they strike—it’s a practiced precision of sorts.

“That face you make when you’re up to something. I can tell you have something up your—”

You cut him off with a kiss to the corner of his mouth, making him go silent almost instantly. A small part of him can feel his cheeks burn, but the bigger part of him melts before he can even comprehend it.

“What if I paid you a better price,” you murmur, “and commissioned some of your time?”

A hand trails up his chest, rubbing slowly against the expanse of it over his shirt, stopping just over his heart. Evil, he wants to tell you, how evil you are to rest your palm right over his erratic heart.

Like you sense the pounding beat, you grin sweetly.

“You’ll need a better price than that,” he mumbles quietly when he finally finds his voice, clearing his throat subtly.

“Haggling over prices with me?” You pout. “Not even I can get a discount.”

“Of course not,” he says stubbornly. A strong arm wraps around you, pulling you against his sturdy chest as you bite back a grin. “I only accept offers with appropriate prices.”

“Fine,” you pretend to roll your eyes in defeat, leaning in to press a firm peck to his lips. “Will that cover it?”

“Not quite,” his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer. Impossibly closer. So close, you think his lips could knock into yours from a gentle breeze alone.

But he’s still. Patient. Painfully observant as his eyes stare into you and wait for what he wants—and, well, Kinich always gets his asking price. One way or another, he never walks away short of a single mora.

Or kiss.

So you lean in, pressing your mouth to his as your hands cup his face, tracing the skin above his cheekbone delicately as he sighs softly. His eyes flutter closed, and briefly, he thinks how nice it is when it’s just you. And him. And no Ajaw.

He should keep it like that more often.

He needs it, you think. Needs to feel you up close and personal, needs to know you’re here and staying, needs to know you’re his and only his.

He lets out a soft sound of protest when you finally break away, earning a quiet chuckle from you before you plant a sweet kiss to his jaw.

“How was that?” You whisper, kissing along his jawline, earning a small shiver of approval from him. “Was that payment enough?”

“I suppose for now,” he mumbles.

“Now you’re just being greedy,” you tease, grinning against his skin.

But you know as well as he does, you’re than happy to afford his prices. And then some, too. You’re as generous about spending as he is enthusiastic with taking.

“Or maybe you’re just being stingy,” he shoots back. With a fond shake of your head, your lips are back on his, cradling his face as he leans into you until he can’t tell where you start and where he ends.

It’s hard not to give into your charms, but he’s not so sure it’s a losing battle. It feels suspiciously close to a win, in fact—that is, if Ajaw stays far, far away. (And again, it would be nice if it was not on a limited, conditional, restricted, contractual, partial, temporary basis.)

He’s sooooo cute and his backstory literally haunts me I want to kiss him so bad you guys don’t get it. I was supposed to skip him but 173 wishes later I now have a c4 diluc and a c0r1 kinich 🥹

[obsessivevoidkitten]

The Ogre Prince of Breakbend Isle

Male Ogre Yandere x Feminized Male Reader

CW: Noncon, drugging, aphrodisiacs, aphrodisiac cum, kidnapping, voyeurism, masturbation, big musky ogre cock, cockwarming, somnophilia, multiple orgasms, feminized reader, belly bulge from absurdly huge dick, belly bulge from absurdly large amounts of ogre cum, sweet yandere, general yandere behavior

Word Count: 1.4k

(Started writing this last night before the cat thing, then worked more on it until 5am, then finished it up this evening. REALLY hope you all like it, pretty please comment <3)

Breakbend Isle. Not a place any human should ever be. It was a medium-sized island filled with ogre villages. Yet you were there. A storm had taken your tiny fishing ship and washed you up there. The boat had broken hopelessly too. 

You were stranded in dangerous territory. The ogres had a reputation for being brutal and violent towards trespassers, as none who had set foot there had ever returned. 

And you were no exception. Despite your best efforts, your cooking fire was sniffed out miles away by Rahtrig the Wrathful. Prince to the leading ogres of Breakbend Isle, son of a the fiercest ogre warlord in human history. He took after his father, over 7ft tall and all muscle.

He had been hunting for deer but found something far more appetizing for a completely different type of hunger. 

Instead of just walking up and snatching you, he was captivated and wanted to just… watch. You were so pretty. Most ogres found humans to be exceedingly beautiful. No matter the human's gender they made cute little wives. 

Their delicate hands and tongues could greatly pleasure an ogre's prick or massage his big nuts. Rahtrig rubbed his aching crotch in anticipation.

The ogre prince watched you as you ate some fish you had caught. Your tiny little meal that you ate with your delicate little mouth. Then he stared as you disrobed and got into the nearby stream to bathe.

Rahtrig stared in rapt attention at your form. Your perfect small human cock was just so cute. He'd definitely let you grind your cock on his big tongue and let you spill your seed on it. 

He started stroking himself as he watched and fantasized about all the amazing things the two of you could do together. He came quickly, spilling thick cum all over the ground. 

The ogre had to stifle a moan. He wasn't yet ready to steal you away. Instead, he continued to spy on you until you went to sleep on a pile of leaves with only a jacket to cover you.

Rahtrig crept closer and gazed upon the serenity of your sleeping face bathed in the soft moonlight. Then he imagined more domestic and romantic things for the two of you. 

Having you sleep with your head nestled on his huge pecs, lightly drooling on him because of how safe and comfortable you feel. Coming home to you after a long day of hunting or patrol. Maybe even adopting an orphan ogre child and raising it as your own together.

You awoke to find yourself carried over the shoulder of a massive ogre. He stroked your back to comfort you while you cried, kicked, and struggled. 

"Shhh, my small flower, would never hurt you. I'm your husband, Rahtrig!"

Did you hear that correctly?

"What? No! You're not m-"

He chuckled loudly, cutting you off. As if the notion that he wasn't your partner was genuinely hilarious.

"Will feel lots better once we get you on my dick. Will be all you want for days~"

His promise to fuck you until you were a babbling cock addicted mess did nothing to calm you down. His deep, rumbling voice didn't exactly help soothe you either. 

You continued kicking and screaming the entire way until you were just too exhausted to continue.

When he got into the walls of his village, every ogre that happened to see what he was carrying congratulated the both of you on your upcoming marriage. You saw that there were more than a few humans that averted their gaze as Rahtrig passed by with you. Some of them were accompanied by half-ogre offspring.

The ogre holding you saw you staring at the humans and their children.

"You can't get pregnant; it's fine. We'll adopt!"

Your mind swirled with the image of an ogre child much larger and stronger than you running to you and hugging you half to death. And how would you deal with a rebellious teenager that could kill you with one smack? You barely even noticed when he opened the door to a large ogre hut and stepped inside.

Rahtrig sat you down on the bed. You shook in fear as he started a fire. After that, he lit a few candles around the room.  With the hut illuminated, you could see your surroundings clearly.

It was all one room; on this side was a bed and some furniture, and on the other there was a kitchen and eating area. Dried herbs hung from the ceiling, as well as strings of small bones. The heads of various frightening beasts were mounted upon the walls.

You wondered if any of those bones were human and had never wanted to bolt more. But you were in a close walled ogre village, there was really nowhere to run.

With his task of lighting the place done, he turned his attention to you. Much to your dismay.

He took off his large fur loincloth and belt. They were all he was wearing, given the warm climate and the fact that he had only been on a hunt. 

His massive cock sprung free; it was far thicker than your arm and least three feet long, uncut and dripping with precum. It was a slightly darker shade of steel grey than the rest of his body. The musk hit you from several feet away, a heady and manly scent, not exactly unpleasant.

He grabbed a vial of liquid before walking closer.

His balls swung heavily beneath him as he got onto the bed with you, ready to empty their contents deeply into your soft ass.

You cowered and shrank against the wall that the bed was situated beside. Rahtrig could smell your fear. It was unpleasant. You were so obviously stricken with terror. 

That wouldn't do at all. That's the scent you want on prey. Or an enemy you were about to strike down in combat. Not on your pretty bride.

"Calm down, princess; this'll help. Would never hurt you."

Undeterred by your kicks and protests, the ogre prince pulled you over to him carefully and flipped you over on your belly.

Rahtrig opened the vial and slowly poured all the contents directly on your hole, making sure to massage it in as well as possible. You gradually calmed down as it took effect, though you were still quite scared that his cock would simply split you in two.

When he lined up with your hole and sunk into you, though, all remaining anxiety and fear melted away before the pure bliss you felt. 

"Wh-what was in that?"

"Magic potion. Makes humans relax. Also makes em stretchy to take ogre cock."

You only responded by moaning lewdly and pushing your ass back and forth on his dick. Impaling yourself down to the base and creating a perfect stretched outline of his prick in your tummy. 

Rahtrig licked and nipped at your sensitive neck as he thrust slowly. He continued at that leisurely pace until you whimpered for him to go faster. He smirked. He knew once you had been lubed up and then filled with ogre precum that you'd be addicted. Both were potent aphrodisiacs, as was his actual cum.

He pulled out of you and moved you over while he got situated in the bed, lying on his back.

The ogre situated you on his dick and let you ride him at your own pace.

After over an hour of riding him, you had cum several times but were still gripped with arousal. He had cum a few times too; your belly distended with cum that slowly leaked out of you and dripped down his shaft and nuts.

You started crying because you needed more but were just too tired.

Rahtrig wiped away your tears and let you lay on top of him and go gently to sleep as he kept his cock in you to fuck you to sleep.

Eventually his cum and the lube from the vial would wear off, though that could take days. You'd always crave his dick, though, no matter what after the first dose. Though you may still try to resist, it could take a while for you to bond with him. 

He was sure you'd be the perfect wife eventually, though. Even if it took a while for you to be willing. All the humans who landed on the island settled in at some point.