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deunmiu-dessie · 11 months ago

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ⅴ▬ ⁽ 𝑜𝓇𝒸 ⁾

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₅˖₇ₖ ˚₊·��̳͟͞͞♡

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : mdni----- unedited, NSFW, explicit content, teratophilia, orc/royalty!human, rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, overstimulation, breeding, spit kink, sloppy kisses, size difference, somnophilia, slight voyeurism, orcish, reader loses all forms of etiquette and just babbles-- stupidly, belly bulge. ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎: as royalty it's your duty to marry and provide heirs for the kingdom, however, your parents have a different plan for you.

꒰m!orc ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱

𝐹or as long as you can remember, you have been allured by the forbidden. Whenever your parents commanded you to abstain from a certain act or sternly prohibited you from engaging in another, it ignited a fervor within your being. And inevitably, you succumbed to its allure.

Your relationship with your parents was not a harmonious one. From the time you were but a child, they made it abundantly clear that you were not conceived out of their love for one another, but rather out of an obligation to the throne. To them, you were an inconvenience, a mere hindrance that they longed to be rid of. Thus, you existed in a perpetual state of unease, forever uncertain of their next move.

The castle bustled with activity this week, the number of knights seemed to have multiplied, and your encounters with your parents grew scarce. Your daily meals together became non-existent- not that you were complaining. Instead, during supper, they scorned and mocked you—drawing comparisons to your elder cousin who had recently become betrothed to a Duke. You were aware that they would arrange a marriage for you; it was inevitable, but you hoped it would be to someone who would eventually cherish you as you would them.

Verily, this day seemed naught but a replica of the day prior—a day draped in melancholy. The heavens were adorned with clouds of a somber ashy hue, obscuring the radiant sun in its entirety, and permitting but a scant ray of light to penetrate. You lay sprawled on your bed; the clamor from beyond your door kept you from getting any sleep, so you opt to lay there, eyes shut and breathing even.

The two hefty thuds at your door jolt you awake, your eyes snapping to the entrance. A servant girl stood there, her gaze piercing, and her upper lip curled in a sneer. "The King and Queen request your presence for a meal in the dining chamber."

You release a heavy sigh and nod. "Yes, I shall join them shortly, Nadia." she scoffs and closes the door with a soft thud. Rubbing the remnants of sleep from your eyes, you rose from your bed, slipping into your shoes with a sense of resignation. Hastily, you arranged your disheveled hair and adjusted your attire in the mirror, preparing yourself for the impending encounter. Finally, summoning your resolve, you embarked on the descent towards the dining hall.

Your stomach churns uncomfortably as you motion towards the knights, fingers twisting nervously as they swing open the heavy oak doors. Stepping into the chamber, you swiftly bow and linger there for a moment, awaiting permission to be seated. "Hail to the Sun and Moon of the realm." Your sire grunts and gestures for you to take a seat; you release a shaky breath and settle across from your mother, who pays you no mind.

Within the dining hall, a profound stillness prevails, accompanied solely by the gentle clatter of utensils upon porcelain plates. You dare to disrupt the silence, your heart constricting within your breast, burdened by your uneasiness. " Pray tell, have I heard true? Have the demons breached the borders, causing mayhem? Is that why the ranks of the noble knights have swelled in recent days?"

The older man looks up from his meal, steely eyes on your face. "I did not deem you astute enough to discern matters of such nature, but aye, it is true. The Orcs shall breach the barrier if we do not do something. The knights from Tvatian shall not grace us with their presence for a week's time, yet our defenses wane with each passing moment."

The sound of your mother's throat being cleared reverberates through the air, abruptly drawing your eyes towards her. "You shall soon attain the age of twenty, my dear. Do you have any intentions of entering into wedlock?" Her voice possesses a cloying sweetness, signifying her ulterior motives; she is forever scheming. As you carefully place your knife and fork on the table, you grant her your undivided focus. "Aye, mother," you reply, your words tinged with a touch of uncertainty.

With a disapproving click of her tongue, she gracefully lifted her goblet to her lips, attempting to conceal the mischievous grin that flickered across her features. "Verily, a little bird has whispered in my ear that Orcs take pleasure in having humans as mere playthings, using them as harlots and passing them amongst themselves. How dreadful."

Your hands clench beneath the table, and you struggle to suppress the bile that threatens to rise. Your heart thumps sporadically in your chest, almost painfully. What is she implying? "Pray tell, what is the essence of your words?"

"The royal family's expectations are not to be taken lightly, my child. If you persist in shirking your responsibilities by avoiding marriage and offspring, alternative measures must be considered. You shall be delivered to the head Orc at the border; mayhap that will pacify them until the Tavatian knights arrive." Your father had spoken this time, causing you to swiftly turn your gaze towards him. Tears welled up in your eyes, and a soft laughter escaped your lips. "Pray, father, assure me that you jest."

The answer lies within his silence. Your hands collide with the table, your head sways vehemently from side to side. "Nay, nay! You shall not subject me to this. What offense have I caused thee? I have obeyed all your commands unquestioningly, and you are planning to— Nay, I shall not proceed."

As the succulent salmon dances on her fork, your mother's laughter fills the air, resonating with a warmth that belies the gravity of her words. "My dear child, you find yourself bereft of options. You shall be deemed a traitor to the noble lineage and condemned to perish before your very birthday." A lump lodges itself in your throat, and tears stream down your face, as you rue the moment you stepped out of your room. "For what reason do you bear such animosity towards me?"

"Escort her back to her chamber; she's giving me indigestion," your mother states with a grimace. The knights pause briefly, uncertain of how to guide you away. Dismissing them with a wave of your hand, you rise from your chair and exit the chamber, tears clouding your sight. The journey back is unsettling, with the maids gossiping and gesturing, their disdain evident on their faces, and their disapproving gazes following you.

The door is forcefully slammed shut behind you, and with great urgency, your feet carry you to your bed, where you collapse with a heavy sigh. Almost immediately, your pillow becomes saturated with the tears that pour forth, and you huddle into yourself, simply becoming smaller.

Indeed, you knew this would occur eventually, but you hadn't thought you would be handed over to some hideous monster who would likely slay you upon arrival. Violent sobs wrack your body, shaking you to the core, while your nose runs uncontrollably, the pillow muffles a scream of agony.

After half an hour had passed, you lay there, sleep welcoming you with warm arms. The answer to this puzzle would reveal itself upon your awakening.

—

Woken by the sound of shuffling, faint whispers, and delicate clinks, you remain motionless, filled with trepidation, and unwilling to stir from your position. You quickly clench your eyes shut upon hearing the intruder approach. As much as you desired to confront them, you were also intrigued to uncover their intentions within your room.

"Seize her limbs; we must transport her to the dungeon." In an instant, your heart falters, trembling fiercely, and for a moment, your breath is held captive. As your eyes snap open, the ceiling of your chamber looms above you. Swiftly, you strike at the person nearest to you, expressing gratitude to the gods as you hear their curse.

Emerging hastily from the confines of your bed, you sprint towards the exit, a shrill cry escaping your lips as a hand clutches your ankle. You descend abruptly, your chin colliding with the cold marble beneath, silently expressing gratitude for the prudent act of placing your tongue against the roof of your mouth in the final moments.

Swiftly flipping over, you kick frantically, tears streaming down your face as your legs are forcefully spread apart, and the assailant inserts themselves between your thighs, seizing hold of your arms.

Your vision blurs as a heavy slap is brought across your face. The brief respite from your struggle grants the assailants the opportunity to lay a cloth upon your nostrils. Your eyes flutter shut, darkness casting a shadow upon your vision. The feel of your body being lifted is the only thing you remember.

Within the confines of the cell, you find yourself in a state of contemplation, your head gently leaning against the cold metal bars. The sharp sound of heels striking the ground causes you to straighten up. The passage of time remains elusive, yet the atmosphere hints at the arrival of a new day, shrouded in the quiet of dawn.

Your mother's face came into view, causing you to sneer in disdain as you buried your head in your knees, refusing to meet her gaze. The very sound of her voice sent shivers down your spine, igniting a mixture of anger and sorrow within you. She callously auctioned you off, displaying a complete lack of concern for your well-being.

"I reckoned it would be preferable for you to don your best attire, but it would be futile. A watchman shall be present shortly to guide you to the border, make no disturbance, do you understand? 'Twould be unsightly if you do."

You ignore her, but deep down, you are filled with dread to venture towards the border. You longed to weep and plead with her to refrain from sending you, but it would only wound your pride. Instead, she smiles and draws nigh unto the prison bars. "When we emerge victorious in this war, and if you are still breathing, I shall dispatch you to a brothel. I couldn't possibly have such a defiled child. Revel in your sojourn there, my dear."

The clatter-clack of her footwear slowly vanishing into the distance brings forth a torrent of tears. Why must this befall you? What sin have you committed to warrant such treatment? The jingle-jangle of keys catches your attention; the guard stands before you with a look of pity. "Your majesty, the time has arrived."

You nod in a pitiful manner and rise from the ground, using your soiled hands to dry your tears, leaving traces of dirt on your cheeks. As you draw near to the guard, he pulls down his sleeve and tenderly wipes your cheeks with a sympathetic smile. You bow softly in gratitude and proceed to walk with him to the carriage.

He assists you inside and closes the door; a click prompts you to peer through the tiny gap. A lock secures the door; as you lock eyes with the guard, he merely sighs and shakes his head. "The Queen has requested this. I beg your pardon, Your Majesty."

You remain silent, leaning back in the seat and staring blankly at the castle. You see your father standing at his office window, observing. You avoid his gaze, curling up in the seat. Then, as the carriage sets in motion, your heart swells, and tears flow.

The carriage's abrupt jolt awakens you from your nap; the sun is just beginning to descend, signaling the end of a day filled with endless riding. The only noise is the steady trot of the horses and the occasional whisper of the soldiers. Have you arrived already? You swallow nervously and flinch as the door is forcefully opened. "We have arrived, your highness."

You nod and sit up, clasping his hand to disembark from the carriage. Your eyes swiftly survey the surroundings. Despite the tales, the border seemed relatively serene. You couldn't hear anything from beyond the wall. At length, a throat is cleared, causing you to look up, and the guard beckons you along. You hesitate for only a moment before fortifying your resolve and walking forward.

After much anticipation, the distant voices grow more distinct. "Captain, 'tis here! Shall we unseal the gates?" The clamor of the ponderous wheels turning and ascending is loud in your ears. The gate opens enough to allow your passage beneath. They weren't wasting time at all. The guard places a hand on your lower back and pushes you forward gently. "The Orc General has agreed to receive you; he's on the other side waiting."

You suppress the lump in your throat and proceed, every gaze fixed upon you. The wall loomed thick and intimidating, and you couldn't shake off the fear of it collapsing on you as you reached the other side. However, as you eventually crossed over, your gaze locked with his.

Standing tall at a minimum of 9 feet, he possessed a powerful build adorned with thick muscles, and hair decorating his chest. Dark brown hair cascaded down to his waist woven into an intricate braid, contrasting against his pear-colored complexion and a thick beard enveloped his jaw. Scars crisscrossed his body, enhancing his rugged charm. Despite his blunt tusks, one of which was slightly chipped, there was no denying the outrageous attractiveness of this Orc.

As he takes a step forward, an instinctual reflex compels you to retreat, a shiver of trepidation coursing through your being. Your legs, heavy as if forged from lead, refuse to heed your desperate plea for escape. A subtle chuckle escapes his lips, the corners curling upwards in a smug grin. "Time is not a luxury I possess, little human," he mocks, his voice dripping with impatience.

You part your lips to utter a response, but only silence greets your futile attempt. The resounding thud of the closing wall seals your grim destiny, causing your weakened knees to buckle beneath you, surrendering to the tender embrace of the grassy ground. With a deep sigh, he strides towards you, casting a towering shadow over your slumped figure, a chilling reminder of his overpowering presence.

With utmost ease, he effortlessly lifts you, as if you were as light as a feather. Your body tenses in his embrace, a mixture of vulnerability and anticipation. The tears well up, threatening to spill over. Surprisingly, his touch is tender, his hands delicately traversing your legs and back. Summoning your courage, you manage to muster a question, your voice trembling slightly.

"Might I inquire about your name?" Despite your hesitant speech, he pays no mind, his voice resonating with a deep timber that sends a surge of desire coursing through your veins. A flush of warmth spreads across your face, compelling you to avert your gaze and focus on your lap. "I am Loran, the General of the Mammoth Clan."

Silence envelops the air for a fleeting moment before your voice breaks through once more. "My name is (Name)" He acknowledges your introduction with a subtle hum, and together, you navigate through the labyrinthine paths until you arrive at a large tent. With utmost care, he settles you upon a sumptuous bed adorned with furs, then proceeds to position himself near a table, obscuring its contents from your prying eyes.

A knot tightens in your throat as you summon the courage to voice your deepest fear. "Might you have intentions of devouring me?" you whisper, recoiling at the childlike vulnerability that tinges on your words.

His laughter causes a flutter in your chest; every aspect of him leaves your insides twisted. At last, he ceases his actions and pivots to meet your gaze, his arms folded. You had to physically remind yourself to avert your eyes from his well-defined muscles. "Would you like me to?" His voice carries a teasing lilt, yet his words hint at something more intimate.

You shake your head in denial and draw your knees closer to your body. He was nothing like the figure you had imagined; you were convinced that your life would have ended by now. Your gaze wanders aimlessly as you delve into your own musings. Unbeknownst to you, he crouches down before you. The calloused tips of his fingers grazing your chin send a shiver down your spine. Your eyes meet his, and you find yourself holding your breath.

"The hour grows late; retire for the night. "

You offer a silent nod, watching him leave the tent. Following his guidance, you settle back onto the furs. After the tumultuous events of the day, slumber swiftly envelops you, embracing the plush comfort of the bedding.

The warmth seeping into your skin prompts you to wriggle out of the furs. The weight of an arm flung over your stomach arrests you, dread settling in your heart and coiling around it like a vice. Though yesterday's events come rushing back to you and you relax, your tense body melting into Loran's embrace.

Despite the circumstances that brought you here, he had shown nothing but kindness, even playfulness - he didin't really make you uneasy, and it seemed as though a burden had been lifted from your shoulders.

In the realm of uncertainty, his actions remained capricious, yet amidst this unpredictability, a newfound liberation enveloped your being, you were free. Loran, with an irresistible allure, draws you nearer, your bodies melding as your front meets his. You place your hands on his chest and gently create distance, huffing as he cuddles closer.

After struggling a bit more, you come to a stop and seize the opportunity to examine him closely. Withdrawing your hand from his chest, you gently place it on his cheek, relishing its velvety texture. Loran possessed a striking appearance. Tracing your fingers along his lips, the sensation of his tusks lightly brushing against your fingertips captivates you once more. Their smoothness leaves you mesmerized. The rounded tips are gentle and harmless; they would not cause any discomfort if you were to share a kiss.

Blushing with embarrassment, your cheeks turn a rosy hue, and for a fleeting moment, you seek solace by burying your face into his chest. Raising your gaze once more, you cautiously wave your hand before his face, ensuring his continued slumber. With no signs of movement and a steady rhythm of breath, a sigh of relief escapes your lips.

Gradually, you shift your position, ascending along his form, while your heart flutters nervously within your chest. With a mixture of fascination and unease, you lean closer, drawn to an inexplicable magnetism emanating from him. His lips, so alluring, entice you irresistibly.

Placing your hand on his cheek, you lean in with deliberate slowness, capturing his lips with yours. The sensation of his tusks grazing your skin sends a rush of pleasure up your spine. With closed eyes, you deepen the kiss, savoring the unexpected softness of his lips. His taste is intoxicating, akin to a forbidden elixir. You have always been drawn to forbidden pleasures.

With a hint of reluctance, you retreat, allowing your eyes to slowly unveil the world around you. A startled gasp escapes your lips as your gaze meets Loran's. Despite your endeavors to break free from his embrace, his arms encase you like unyielding steel, entrapping you. Loran's chuckle resonates with a profound and drowsy timbre, while his hand ascends to firmly grasp your chin. "Do not flee from me, Sma ni." ( little one )

His lips are on yours, gentle and governing. His other hand gripping your waist and quickly lifting you onto his chest. The sensation of his thick and moist tongue overpowering your mouth elicits a fervent moan from deep within you, while your thighs instinctively clasp around his stomach. As his hands glide up your top, the pads of his fingers diligently work out the tension in your soft skin. Gradually, they find their way to your hips, expertly guiding them to grind against his abdomen.

With a soft whine escaping your mouth, you break the connection of his kiss, and your tongue lazily protrudes, leaving a trail of warm saliva on your chin. A primal growl resonates from deep within his chest, causing your thoughts to blur. Your hands instinctively find their way to his chest, the rough hair gently tickling your palms. The pressure on your hips eases, and his hand tightly grasps your hair, enabling him to sit up and halt the rhythmic grind of your hips.

A soft whimper escapes your lips as the throbbing sensation between your thighs intensifies. Loran's lips trail along the curve of your throat, delicately nibbling at your tender skin, while his tongue glides with ease. Suddenly, a tearing sound startles you and a rush of cool air caresses your newly bared legs. The remnants of your shredded trousers gracefully descend to the floor, leaving you vulnerable and exposed.

Upon the velvety fur, Loran tenderly positions you, his voracious eyes meticulously exploring the expanse of your body. In a swift motion, he removes the sole obstruction that conceals your body, leaving you vulnerable to his cravings. You clench your thighs, your pussy pulsating with emptiness. This man was sinful; he looked so delectable, his lips shimmering with the remnants of your passionate kisses, and his complexion adorned with a captivating flush.

He lets out a deep groan, settling himself amidst your thighs, the ache in your legs a mere whisper compared to the intensity of his touch, tongue dancing over your nipples, nipping and tugging. Loran's hand travels up your body, his thick fingers entering your warm, wet mouth. You suppress a gag and suck on them shyly, tears welling up in your eyes. As his fingers delve deeper into your throat, you grasp his wrist firmly, your hips grinding against his thick bulge.

Loran pulls his fingers from your mouth, watching the rivulets of saliva drip down his digits. Leaving a glistening trail of moisture along your body, Loran delicately caresses his fingers through the soft curls of hair on your pussy, teasing you with the soft touch of his fingertips. With deliberate precision, he gradually eases one digit into the confines of your snug entrance stretching you. You pull your fleshy bottom lip into your mouth, teeth digging painfully. Your lashes flutter, exposing the whites of your eyes as they roll back in blissful surrender, eyebrows arching. Your mewls are soft and pleading. "Mmph! L-Loran. Please "

Your voice is a siren's call to him, as you whimper and plead for him. His desire to possess you completely, to fuck you full of his cum, to have you swollen with his young, consumes him. The mere thought of it almost brings him to the brink of release. Granting mercy upon your adorable, fucked out face, he finally sinks his finger into your cunt, relishing the exquisite tightness that embraces him, while your delicate hands clutch his braid and tug.

With his other hand, he gently cups your cheeks between his large, powerful fingers, causing your lips to pucker. His mouth descends upon yours, messy and dominating, leaving a trail of mingled saliva that pools down your flushed cheeks. He chuckles as your eyes wander elsewhere, glazed and hazy with pleasure as he eases a single finger inside you.

A high-pitched sound escapes your lips as he expertly probes a sensitive spot deep within you, causing your hips to tremble and your inner walls to clench around his fingers. Leaning closer, his warm breath brushes against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "Ayh lat naka ve cum, sma shara? " His mother tongue is foreign to you, but it sounds absolutely erotic, especially while he's stroking your drooling pussy skillfully. You shudder fervently, emitting mewls and whimpers, as the squelching noises of his thrusts fill the confined space of the tent. “I—uhn~ w-wait p-please, Lor…” You babble nonsensically. ( are you going to cum, little human? )

Loran, in a teasing mood, complies with your dumb prattling, and moves away from you, fingers slipping out with an erotic pop. A soft whimper escapes your lips, your lower lip jutting out in a pout as tears well up in your eyes from the empty feeling in your pussy, your eyes widen at seeing him suck on his dampened fingers. “N-no, why’d you stop!”

With a chuckle, the Orc leans in to press a tender kiss on your flushed cheeks, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "I simply did as you asked, Faushnu," he whispers. Pulling back slightly, he studies your expression - your eyebrows furrowed, lips parted, and your chest rising and falling rapidly. "I did not mean for this," you whimper, grinding your hips against his growing bulge. “M-more. Give me more.” You give him a stern glare, that only turns him on more, his little hostage was so demanding. ( baby ) "Of course, Your Highness," he says, his tone dripping with playful mockery. Loran's large hands firmly grasp your waist, swiftly maneuvering you onto your stomach. With a gentle yet commanding motion, he elevates your hips, causing your face to be buried in the soft furs beneath you. The sensation is almost agonizing as your back arches, eliciting a sharp squeal from your lips. A glob of warm saliva unexpectedly lands on your moistened pussy, causing an involuntary clenching reaction. "What are yo--?"

Before you can finish, the sudden roughness of his tongue against your throbbing cunt has you seeing stars. His feral growls reverberate through the air, as his tongue delves and ravishes you with an insatiable fervor. Reduced to a whimpering wreck, tears of rapturous delight cascade down your flushed face. Desperate to regain control, you weakly press your small hand against the crown of his head, attempting to halt the relentless onslaught. "No more, please, m'gunna cum. Want to cum for you," you manage to slur amidst incoherent babbling, your words a contradictory mix.

Loran, enraptured by your musings, fingers your pussy once again, effortlessly finding that spongey nerve inside of you and deftly curling his thick finger into it, time and again. A torrent of scorching pleasure engulfs your entire being, as you succumb to an intense climax, your trembling thighs embracing his head while your pussy flutters around his finger.

" Loran! "You slur, thighs still convulsing as the feel of Loran's hands on the fat of your hips seems multiplied, your mind filled with goo. The rustle of fabric falling to the ground barely registers before his thick cock presses into your pussy, hands guiding your hips onto him. Warmth trickles onto your pulsing cunt, his saliva lubing where you connect. You clench around him, emitting obscene moans.

He delves deeper, your snugness yielding to his thick, heavy cock. You swear you can feel every pulsating vein, every ridge of him inside of you. You whimper and whine when he fucks half of his big cock into your tiny little hole, and you thrash and let out small mewls of pleasure. "Mmph, Lor--!! it won't fit!" you whimper amidst sobs.

"Hm?" He utters, his voice a low hum, as he observes with rapt attention as you stretch around his green, monstrous cock. The pressure within your abdomen steadily intensifies, inch by inch, until Loran thrusts in the last couple of inches, his large balls flush against your engorged clit. You're already fucked stupid, pupils blown, and moans strewing from your lips. The Orc takes hold of your hand, guiding it towards your stomach, allowing you to feel the undeniable presence of his shaft protruding from your belly. "Do you feel me? Feel my cock in your insides, my little human?"

With a forceful motion, he retreats, then thrusts forcefully into you, his grip tightening on your hair as he pulls. A fervent moan escapes your lips, as the resounding collision of his hips against your ass fills the air, the only thing you can hear. The wet squelching of your arousal intermingles with his precum, cascading onto the opulent furs beneath you. His name becomes a sacred mantra, slipping from your tongue like a fervent prayer. "S'good, m'gunna cum, let me cum, please, please."

With a gentle caress, Loran's hand ascends your stomach, pinching your sensitive nipples. You mewl, back arching as you clench and pulse around his thick length, cumming harder than before, a wave of darkness gently tinting your vision. A low, guttural moan reverberates from deep within you, harmonizing with Loran's unyielding thrusts. “That's a good fuckin�� girl.”

The Orc's hand comes down on your ass, observing the quivering flesh. Your violated hole trembles around Loran's thick length, and he snickers, his hips stuttering. "You're mine. Hm? Do you understand, pet?" His thrusts became more profound, faster, not giving you rest, groaning as you nod quickly, whimpering.

You turn your gaze towards him, his fingers constricting in your tresses. "Loran, want you to cum inside me, please." Your feeble arms emerge from beneath your form, delicate hands reaching to spread your pussy wider. "You will, right?"

Your wanton plea hurls the massive Orc over the brink. Loran's hips slam into yours once more as his scorching cum coats your walls; the copious amount of it had you cumming once more. Loran continues to pump his seed into you, his cock still hard and balls full of cum. He longed to see you swollen with his offspring; he wouldn't stop until he knew you were trapped with him.

You are not permitted to rest until the early morning, curled against his chest with his seed leaking from your stretched opening. Your body is tender, marked with bruises on your neck and chest. Loran places his large hand on your cheek; although he is running late for the meeting, he decides to allow you more time to sleep.

He lifts you gently, thankful that he has cleaned you up and changed the bedding. You snuggle into his warmth, almost convincing him to delay for another hour. "My zemar, it's time to wake up. We must rise before the sun sets." (my heart)

Stirring in his arms, your eyelashes flutter before you slowly open your bleary eyes. Attempting to close them once more, his hearty chuckle resonates, partially rousing you. Placing you gently on the bed, he drapes one of his shirts over you, guiding your arms through the sleeves. Loran picks you up again, cradling you as he carries you out of the tent, shielding your eyes from the glaring sun. The short walk to the other side of the campsite goes unnoticed by you.

He arrives promptly, his raven perched gracefully on its stand. A soft whistle escapes his lips, a signal for the bird to gather the troops. Loran takes his place at the head of the table, positioning you to face him, your legs wrapped around his waist. With spit on his fingers, he traces circles around your cunt, pleased that it had returned to its original state, tight and warm. After lubricating your entrance, he spits on his palm and wraps his member in a firm grip, ensuring that it's slick.

Loran aligns himself with your little hole and eases inside, emitting a deep groan at the vice grip; you let out a sleepy moan, tightening around him. His large hands grip the fat of your hips, guiding you down the rest of his thick length. He pulls his shirt over your ass, concealing where his cock is nestled inside of you.

He has to stop himself from fucking you on the table in front of all his tribe members. Once he had you in the perfect position, his soldiers began to file into the room. He couldn't help but notice how your warm, tight hole was becoming slick. Unbeknownst to you, his thick cock was already buried deep within you.

The meeting unfolds seamlessly. With nightfall as their ally, they conspire to dismantle the impenetrable walls of the Kingdom on the morrow. A sacred covenant governs The Mammoth Clan, dictating that the fairer sex and the innocent offspring shall be spared from any affliction. Thus, the innocent shall be granted mercy and protection.

Awakening towards the end, your pussy pulsating and enveloping something thick and long. A twitching motion stirs inside you, nudging your G-spot. A soft moan escapes your lips as you hide your face in his neck. Loran dismisses it as your mere awakening, soothingly caressing your back. Only a fool would miss the evidence of your arousal - the glistening juices trickling down your bare thighs and the hint of green meeting a clenching hole

" Dismissed. "

The orcs file out of the room, speaking amongst each other. Loran's gaze descends upon your petite frame, concealed beneath his garments. He looks feral. Once the auditory commotion subsides, you cautiously lift your head, locking eyes with his penetrating stare.

"Loran, please."

The Orc emits a deep snarl, his lips forcefully meeting yours as he firmly grasps the flesh of your hips, hoisting you off his slick member. Swiftly, he plunges you back down, thrusting into you with fervor, fucking you onto him. You're moaning mess, the spit from your sloppy kiss sliding down your chin and eyes rolling to the back of your head. The sound of wet slapping resonates loudly within the confines of the tent. With a gasp for air, you disengage from him, your hands finding solace on his broad shoulders.

A particular thrust causes the swollen, mushroom-shaped tip of his cock to abuse your g-spot and your moan is shrill. You climax, your body trembling around him, leaving a creamy, ivory ring at the base of his cock. Stars burst in your vision as you weakly press your lips against his throat, whimpering as he continues to thrust into you, your sensitive and throbbing core tender. " Lor-.. no more.. s’too.. much!" you sputter, sloppily pressing your lips to his and sucking on his large tongue.

Despite the roughness of his hips snapping into yours, he caresses your sides softly and pulls away from your kiss, licking his lips. "Be a good pet, hm? Let me use my pussy, can you do that for me? " You nod hesitantly, and he smiles, sending your stomach to unfurl languidly. "S'my good girl." You bury your face in his neck with a whimper, but when your blunt little teeth sink into his collarbone it pushes him over the edge; and he stands up with you still bouncing on his cock, thrusting so deeply that you hiss. Ropes of cum paint your pulsing walls, filling you up.

Loran's shallow thrusts ensure not a single drop is wasted as you envelop him in your embrace, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply.

Mayhap, the circumstance of being dispatched to this place was not as grievous as first imagined...

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azullumi · 11 months ago

Text

"once more to see you" ; aventurine

summary — to him, love was like a religion waiting to be discovered and he’ll find god in the way the sun looks on your skin; alternatively, aventurine thinks he’s rotten work and tiring to take care of but not to you, not if it's him (please get the reference).

pairing — aventurine (w/ gender-neutral reader)

tags — established relationship (but aventurine wants to de-establish it), somewhat fluff, slight angst with comfort, never proofread never what?!!, 1.3k ; ficlet

note — 2.1 broke me (the whole quest knocked at the door of my house, shook my hands, congratulated me, and invited itself into my home before pouring water on my face, slapping me, throwing me around, and left with the door open, all the while, my family watched). this is day 1 of writing for aventurine until i have him.

“you have a lot of moles.” his voice, despite a gentle whisper, tears through the silence of the night like a drop of water that ruptured and disturbed the surface of the pond. “especially here.” he gently taps on your skin; they seem like stars, he swallows the words back down.

you feel aventurine’s finger trace on the back of your neck and the curve of your shoulders, seemingly drawing—or connecting something. it was ticklish, the way he gently drags his hand and ghosts over your skin, a soft laugh slipping past your lips (you’ll capture his touch on your skin as if you were a sinner remembering how forgiveness tasted on your lips). there was something intimate that lingers in the air between you two as you lay in his bed with him, a fleeting moment that will be inked into your mind.

(the both of you leave your titles behind, mixed together with the scattered objects on the floor, laid on the cold ground to be picked up and worn later like a shiny medal even if you weren’t proud to have them.)

“they say it’s where your lover kissed you the most in your past life.” you stir in your position as you speak, coming to face him and meet his pretty jewel-like eyes—how alluring it was, painted with vivid colors yet it never shines. the sound of mirth laughter bubbles from his throat, a pleasant melody to your ears.

he asks, curiosity tracing the tone of his voice, “and from where did you even hear that?” and you shrug, bringing your form closer to him as you seek for more warmth, “i can’t recall. perhaps i heard it from topaz or maybe from one of the members of the ipc? they’re the only ones i often see and talk to.”

“the doctor?” he wraps his arm around your figure, his hand settling on the small of your back.

“that man will only scorn at that idea and call it stupid. he’ll most likely say that ‘only fools would believe such concepts.’” you mimic the way the esteemed doctor spoke, from the serious expression that he always don on his face to the deepening of his voice. your seemingly successful imitation earned a chuckle from the blonde-haired man before you.

“i’m sure he will.”

silence falls between you two and you took this time to adore each and every line of his being. a few strands of hair fall over his eyes—beautiful, captivating, mesmerizing, you could list out every word to describe his eyes but it would never be enough. you had always wondered why he would hide it until you witnessed the reason why he does so.

aventurine seems to study your expression at the same also, a soft look on his face as he did, and you can’t help but be curious. “what are you thinking about?” you ask him, breaking the silence that nurtured itself in the space between you and him.

you, he wishes to answer. how you look at this moment in his embrace: you were wearing one of his shirts, albeit, not exactly to your size but you insisted, saying that you liked it as it smelled like him. how gentle, loving, adoring, you were everything; he looks and thinks of you as if you were his everything (he doesn’t deserve you). but he doesn’t say it—the thought weighs too heavily on his mind, claws at his throat, and suffocates him—, instead he utters something entirely different that creates a shift in the air between you two.

“i don’t think i can do this.” he turns his head to look away from you, staring at the ceiling instead. it seems to extend itself far and far away from him.

the horrible part of being human is the tendency for destruction that lies in your bones. stained palms, calloused pads, despite the gentleness of your touch and the comfort of your caress. the desire to devour flesh and bones, to understand the underlying thoughts and meanings behind words and unexpressed feelings by consuming them. to submerge and drown in the depths of one's despair and desire (too close that the line blurs into one). the horrible part of being him was his tendency to destroy—hesitation and doubt lies in his being and aches at his chest, tugging on his heart’s strings, and settles on his throat—, it’s not like he doesn’t want to hold you, it’s just that he can’t.

“do what?”

“this.” you know exactly what he was referring to, know what he’s afraid of. he has laid himself bare and vulnerable in front of you countless of times that you have memorized the constellations that adorns his skin. you know him, you have known him enough to recognize the fear that tugs on his voice and see the walls that he tries to build up in front of you. you know him enough to know what thoughts are plaguing his mind.

“why do you think so?”

“don’t you think i��m too much to take care of?” he tries not to choke on his words and bite his tongue, careful not to let his voice crack lest he crumbles underneath your caress. i am undeserving of it. worthless. failure. selfish. discarded. coward. loser. nothing. you are bound to leave.

“not for me.” you caress his cheek and guide him to look at you—instead of the ceiling that seems to appear farther than it originally was in each passing second as the walls glean over him like a shadow—, to meet your gaze and see the sincerity that lurks deep within. “never will i get tired of you. so, let me carry your burden.”

he takes a few seconds to answer, uncertainty lingering in his tone: “it’s not yours to have.”

“it may not be.” you answer with no hesitation, “but it doesn’t mean that you must shoulder them alone.”

he opens his mouth to speak but unable to find the words to say, he closes them. there was a moment of stillness shared between you two. comfort, relief, assurance seeps into the ache of his bones and you say something too heavy even for this steady and silent night to hold, the words too much to be held—light spills in like a flood as if it was pouring out from the sun itself.

“i love you.”

“you utter such words as if it’s something easy for you.” as if loving him was just as simple as waking up in the morning and adoring the way the honey-light hugs your form as the dust settles in the corner of your room. when he’s stripped of everything and left with nothing, would you still love him the same? would you still kiss him as gently as you did? would you still hold the shards of his form even if it makes your hand bleed?

you spoke in a gentle yet firm croon, gaze unwavering, “because it is.”

you see the falter in his expression: his face, that once was crumpled, relaxed and so did his gaze soften. and you smile at him with only adoration in your eyes—like a devout follower to a divine being. “are you still afraid?”

“i don’t know.” he whispers.

“it’s alright. you have all the time in the world.” your hand weaves itself into his own, fingers lacing with one another, and you gently squeeze. it was a form of reassurance, a way of telling him that you’re here with him through all of it.

the warmth has settled in your being and you spill yourself into the cracks of his vulnerability. “i love you.” you say once more and you kiss the mark on his neck—lingering and soft as if you wish that it would take all his hurt away. the way he shudders underneath your touch, the hitch of his breath soon followed by a gentle sigh as he cradles you closer to him tells you everything that you wish to hear.

for once, he sleeps as if he had nothing to carry, nothing that shackles him to the stars that forsakes him.

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