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yandere-daydreams · 5 months ago

Text

Title: Honeysuckle.

Pairing: Butterfly!Fae!OC x Reader.

Word Count: 4.2k.

Written For A Very Lovely Anonymous Commissioner.

TW: Non/Con, Fem!Reader, Aphrodisiacs, Dehumanization, Unhealthy Relationships, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, and Borderline Monster-Fucking.

The moment you saw her, you knew that she had to be the most beautiful creature that you would ever see.

Her wings were what struck you first – about ten feet tall and five across, the upper arch curved downward to better complement the large, black splotches currently prying into you through the shadows of the unlit garden. Swirling patterns of orange and red danced across a rich, dusty sort of brown, while white framed the outer perimeter, standing out sharply against the dull foliage. Although you’d initially mistaken her for one of the large, nocturnal birds that’d taken to crashing into your sugar water dispensers in the early hours of the morning, it was clear that she was more or less a woman – her long, sculpted legs bent and tucked against her chest, the arch of her back clear even in the dim light of your lantern. What seemed like hundreds of thousands of braids cast in the same shades as her wings hung to her waist, a pair of furred antennae tangled among them, and domed eyes larger than your fist and blacker than the night sky stared you down, unblinking. It was only when your eyes met hers that you realized your own gaze must’ve been just as invasive, and found the will to turn your attention to more important things than her (admittedly, extremely strange) appearance.

Instead, you poured your energy into the only other thing you could think to do: speaking. Or, attempting to, at least. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” And then, after a sharp inhale, a steadying breath, “I—I’m staying in the cottage this garden belongs to. Are you hurt, or injured, or—god, do you even speak English?”

If she had any intention of responding, she didn’t plan to do so vocally. The creature—the woman remained where she was, utterly motionless, utterly silent. It was only when you hazarded a step towards her that she reacted at all, her wings fanning to either side as she—

Ah.

So she was hurt.

The position of her wings had hidden it before, but you could make out the cause of her distress clearly, now. From the uppermost tip of her left wing to the lowest curve stretched a jagged tear, as if someone had taken a knife to it. Instantly, a new irritation blended with your prior concern, but you forced yourself not to dwell. There were more important things to focus on, at the moment.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” you repeated, edging that much closer. When she curled further into herself, you paused, lowering yourself onto your knees and placing your lantern on the ground in front of you. “I understand, you’re hurt, and there’s not much I can do to help you, but—” Holding up one hand, you shoved the other into a pocket of your apron, fishing out a single, palm-sized peach. You picked it earlier, planning on eating it yourself, but you’d never been so glad to have forgotten a meal. “You… You like sweet things, right? Are you hungry?”

Tentatively, you held the peach out to her, and before you had time to process that she’d moved at all, a hand had lashed out and snatched it away. You watched with rapt interest as her lips slit apart and a pair of pointed fangs (her maxillary palps, you figured, although you couldn’t be sure) dug into the peach’s tender flesh, her curling tongue lashing out to lap at the flesh and lick up the juice dripping down her fingers. While she was distracted, you moved closer, kneeling less than a full arm’s length from her wings to better admire the way they fluttered with every little movement, seemingly indifferent to her injury. There were more details you hadn’t noticed – she wasn’t wearing any clothes, but her entire body was covered in a fine, brown setae that grew thicker around her neck and chest and thinned as it reached her face and hands. She had an extra pair of arms, too, currently crossed over her chest, tucked so neatly underneath their more expected counterparts that you hadn’t been able to see them at all from a distance. Despite everything, you found yourself smiling. “If you’re in any pain, I can help with that. And—And, if you’re sensitive to temperature, you’re more than welcome to spend the night inside, but only if you’d like—”

Your attention drifted back to her face, and immediately, you cut yourself off. Her gaze was trained not on you, but on the space behind you – more accurately, on your lantern, still where you’d left it on the grass. “Oh,” you muttered, laughing to yourself. She must’ve been more moth-like than you’d realized.

Taking it by the handle, you offered it up to her as well. “I know it’s not much, but there’s enough oil in it to last until morning. If you get cold, I can bring out some blankets, too.”

It was obvious she didn’t understand a thing you were saying, but still, she eyed the lantern wearily. After a moment, she raised the lower of her right hands, angling her fingers and flicking her wrist. As if by magic (most likely because it was, probably, by magic), a perfect ball of light appeared in her palm, stagnant for a moment before rising a few inches into the open air. Wordlessly, she held it out in your direction.

For a long moment, you were silent.

In the even longer moment following, you were also silent.

Finally, when you started to think she might lose interest in you entirely, you managed to spit something out. “C-can you do that again?”

For the first time since you’d stumbled onto her, you saw the corner of her lips quirk upward.

You spent the rest of that night watching a strange, ten-foot-tall butterfly woman conjure strings of light until the sun rose and you fell asleep in the grass.

And at the time, you didn’t know to be anything but relieved that, upon waking, she was still by your side.

She healed remarkably quickly – a near-transparent chitin film appearing over the missing portion of her skin within twenty-four hours of her initial appearance. Still, Leo (as you’d started calling her when you realized she could only express her own name through a series of swirling patterns of light and borderline inaudible clicking sounds) seemed to have little interest in leaving your cottage and even less in leaving your line of sight. It took her less than a full two days to start trailing after you as you did your daily work around your garden and the forest that surrounded it, less than a week to start knocking on your windows at night, pouting when you tried to explain the concept of sleep through a language barrier, and today, on your one month anniversary, you’d finally gotten her to come inside properly. Currently, she was poking through your bedroom while you worked at your desk, transferring a never-ending list of borderline meaningless statistics from your roughly handled field journal to more appropriate sheets and charts. Or, trying to work, anyway. Admittedly, it was difficult to take your eyes off of her.

And, as you heard something large and fragile hit the floor and shatter, you were forced to give up any pretense of attempting to. Sighing, you twisted around your seat and immediately found Leo, standing next to your bedside table, what used to be a lamp sitting in shattered pieces at her feet as she stared down at it with a hawk-like sort of vigilance. Her wings were tucked cautiously against her back, lips pursed in concentration. You could only shake your head, grinning as you sighed. She was smart, but curious, and painfully unfamiliar with anything remotely human. It was cute – just how little she seemed to know about you.

(You were aware, somewhere in the back of your mind, that your judgement around Leo was skewed. Mostly, you could chalk it up to scientific curiosity, not wanting to disturb a live specimen as it would act in its natural habitat and all, but even you knew there must’ve been something else to it, something more selfish. It might’ve just been her naivety. It was hard to get mad at someone who didn’t know she was doing anything wrong.)

Eventually, her gaze shifted to you. “Broken,” she said, assertively.

You couldn’t stop yourself from chuckling. She was getting better at your language, even if the words still sounded somewhat awkward on her inhuman tongue. “Very broken,” you agreed, waving her over to you. “I’ll clean it up later – have a look at this for me, first.”

Turning away from her, you fished a thick, leather-bound book out of the chaos that was your desk and opened it to a marked page. “I think you might be one of these,” you said, pointing to an illustration of a half-moth, half-man type creature. Admittedly, the written description lacked many her more other-worldly traits, but there were only so many types of butterfly people to choose from. “They’re supposed to be—uh, extra-dimensional, I think, which would explain your more supernatural abilities, but they’re kind of, um—”

“Hideous. Very hideous.”

“Yeah,” you chuckled. “That.”

She reached over you, one left hand resting on your shoulder while the other flipped through yellowed pages. She’d only been searching for a minute or so when she seemed to find what she was looking for, pointing decisively to an illustration of an extremely beautiful woman kneeling in front of a disemboweled man’s body, her mouth dripping with blood and one of her hands still buried inside of his torn-open chest. The caption underneath it read ‘Fae, neighbors, folk of the air’ in golden illuminated manuscript.

You pursed your lips. Fairies weren’t real, but this illustration did look a lot more like Leo than yours had.

By the time you looked towards her, she’d lost interest entirely, instead fiddling with a picture frame that’d previously been on the corner of your desk. In an instant, you felt your blood run cold. You could’ve sworn you’d hidden all your framed samples before inviting her inside, found every single pinned-up dragonfly, moth, and butterfly and stuffed them all into the deepest, darkest closet you could find. You couldn’t imagine how you would’ve felt – stumbling into an alien creature home only to find a miniature version of your own carcass nailed down behind a pane of glass. She must’ve been so afr—

The frame tilted towards you, and you managed to pull yourself out of your panicked spiral long enough to realize that she was not looking at a preserved insect, but a picture of your housecat – a cute one, too, taken while she was leashed on your patio, sunbathing on her back. You sighed, sinking into your chair and smiling up at her. “That’s Missy. I thought about bringing her, but she’d be a terror on the local wildlife.” And then, more hesitantly, “Do you have any pets?”

You couldn’t imagine Leo taking care of anything, but she seemed fond enough of birds ‘and other insects. Plus, if she did have a pet, it’d tell you something about where she came from – if she had a house, or migratory season, or there were other people with wings and antenna and a spare set of limbs lurking just outside of your peripheral. It was a good place to start, but she didn’t seem to understand the question – only pursing her lips. “…Pet?”

“Like, an animal that you take care of, that you love,” you started, gesturing vaguely, as if that’d make your point any more clear. “Most people have cats and dogs, but—”

“No cats.” Her wings fluttered, her gaze narrowing at the picture. “Big teeth. Sharp claws. Violent.”

“Got it, no cats.” You slung an arm over the back of your chair. “It’s too bad. Missy was a good girl. You two would’ve gotten along.”

She seemed to think for a long moment, considering. Finally, as one of her free hands came to rest on the top of your head, she glanced towards you. “You are… pet?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “No, no, I’m a friend. Do you know what that is?”

If she wanted to answer, she didn’t seem to think of it as a priority. Her hand fell to your chin, another rising to cup your face entirely. Her thumbs traced over your cheeks as she smiled down at you, and with an airy laugh, you melted into her palms. “Good girl,” she cooed, her voice saccharine, her tony sappy. “Very good girl.”

It would’ve been a sweeter moment if you hadn’t heard the familiar sound of glass shattering at your feet, your picture frame dropped and discarded with just as little thought.

As far as you could tell, her wings were necessary for flight, but not actively a part of it. As the chitin film healed over entirely, the shape and color of her wings seemed to shift, taking on a luminescent green overtone, the eyes on the upper segments fading as their lower counterparts sprouted a pair of long, curling tails. Her fur and hair followed suit, and by the time she was able to get her feet off the ground, she was practically unrecognizable as the creature you’d first taken in. You were proud of her, even if you doubted she needed your support. Or, you wanted to be, at least.

Even after Leo had all-but recovered, she stayed nearby – rarely leaving your sight for longer than an hour. If you hadn’t been so curious, you might’ve been concerned. Butterflies were short-lived, migratory creatures. It wasn’t normal for them to stay in a single place for so long, not unless they were looking for a ma—

You were drawn out of your thoughts as you felt something light hit the top of your head – flower petals, you realized, as pieces of shredded coneflower and button bush trickled down into your lap. You tilted your head back, immediately finding Leo hovering about ten feet above you; tearing apart a handful of flowers petal-by-petal. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to – grinning as she motioned for you to follow her. You didn’t bother trying to resist, only pushing yourself to your feet and trailing after her.

She landed on the very outskirts of your property – where your garden met the forest proper. It took a few minutes of wading through foliage, but eventually, you managed to join her in her makeshift clearing.

The smell of iron hit you, first.

Not rot, but blood – fresh and metallic, strong enough to make you reel back. You almost stumbled, almost tripped, but a larger hand caught your wrist, trapping you where you were. You made no attempt to pull away. No, you were too focused on the—on the corpse in front of you, all blood-soaked feathers and broken bones and spilled viscera. It must’ve been a hawk, or a falcon, something with an absolutely massive wingspan and claws to match. Any other identifying features had been crushed, bent out of shape, or reduced to a fine, liquid pulp that was slowly soaking into the ground.

Your gaze flickered back to Leo, her grin just a touch more satisfied than it’d seemed, before. “Leo,” you started, forcing an unsteady smile. “I know we talked about pets, but—”

“Not a pet.” The correction was as swift as it was sugary. “A treat. A gift.”

Huh.

You didn’t remember teaching her that one.

It was more startling than you would’ve expected – waking up to the feeling of feather soft hands.

You guessed that wasn’t entirely true. They weren’t feather soft, and you should’ve known better than to say they were. Velvet would’ve been more a more accurate comparison, or satin – anything soft and rich that seemed to melt where it touched your skin. You couldn’t have been waking up, either, because that would’ve meant you were asleep, and there was no way you could’ve been asleep and staring up at the ceiling of your bedroom, feeling more exhausted than you ever had before. You would’ve liked to sit up, to see what was going on, but you couldn’t seem to move.

Leo was above you, straddling your waist. In her new form, she was practically iridescent – her wings reflecting the dull moonlight as if she was the one glowing. She was summoning her lights, again – drawing strings of silver drew drops with one hang while the other shaped them absentmindedly into a ring, one large enough to fit around your thigh. Or your neck.

For whatever reason, your mind was unwilling to linger on the thought.

She lifted her head every so slightly, her inky gaze settling on you. She was already touching you, one hand cupping your cheek while another brushed through your hair, but it took you longer than it should’ve to recognize just how warm your face felt, to put a name to knotted tension resting heavy in the pit of your stomach. You wanted to push her away, but your arms felt like lead at your sides, and— oh, she was already dipping down to your height, nuzzling gently against the top of your head before her hand found your chin, raising your head as her lips found yours.

It was less of a kiss and more of a prolonged collision, her tongue slipping easily past your parted lips, raking over your own with a measured kind of slowness. Her taste was as sweet as her voice, as her touch – all honeyed nectar and syrupy ambrosia and pure, liquidized sugar. It was beyond overwhelming. It was beyond euphoric. You were melting into her before you could so much as think about stopping yourself, letting out a fractured whine as you moved her lips sloppily against hers, as the tapered tip of her tongue hit the back of your throat and—

And you drew back with a sharp gasp, shuddering as you pressed yourself into your mattress. You shouldn’t be doing this. You couldn’t do this. She wasn’t an animal but god, she wasn’t far off.

“Leo,” you managed, trying to keep your tone gentle, soothing. If she heard, you couldn’t tell – her attention only falling to the crook of your neck, then the dip of your shoulder. “I—I’m not really sure we should be doing this, and I really wish you wouldn’t touch me, and—”

“Quiet.” Just like that, your jaw went slack, that sugar sweet scent intensifying and dulling any coherent thought you might’ve had to a numb, blank static. A deep, rumbling sort of reverberation sparked in her through as she nuzzled into your chest, her body slotted against yours. While one of her hands remained on your cheek, another found the hem of your dress, toying with the fabric for a moment before moving her attention to your neckline, instead. The first tug was gentle, experimental, but her impatience must’ve won over her curiosity; the sound of tearing material filling your quiet bedroom as a single, pointed claw traced a jagged line from the base of your throat to your midriff, the ruined fabric falling away without resistance. “Useless,” she muttered, half-under her breath. “In the way.”

It was an awkward position, her back arched, her wings clasped tightly against one another, but she didn’t seem to mind – her lips trailing over your collarbone, then the curve of your breast. You shut your eyes, but it would’ve been impossible not to feel her tongue lapping shallowly over your nipple. Your hands balled around the sheets as her lips wrapped around the sensitive bud, more of whatever awful substance she produced dripping down your skin, pooling on the flat plain between your breast, spreading a terrible sort of heat to everything it touched. She rotated between sucking and laving, a hand coming up to knead at the unassulted side of your chest with just a touch too much force to be for the sake of your pleasure.

You didn’t want to feel anything. You didn’t want to react. You didn’t want to, and yet, you couldn’t seem to swallow back the low, cracked moans and hitched whimpers spilling past your lips. Leo’s purring grew louder, her spare set of hands finding your hips as they bucked pathetically against nothing. It was almost a relief when she pulled away, lifting her head. Through your eyelashes, you watched her eyes narrow, lips pursing. If you hadn’t known better, you might’ve thought she looked disappointed.

You tried to call out again, to tell her to stop, but your voice remained despondent as Leo repositioned herself, slipping into the space between your open legs. What was left of your nightgown as done away with entirely, and with a hand wrapped around either of your thighs, she bowed her head, her tongue dragging over the length of your clothed slit. Instantly, her expression brightened, and for the first time, you were forced to acknowledge the slow, viscous heat slowly leaking out from between your thighs, forced to listen as she hummed in delight and tore through your panties, the silk as easily defeated as your nightgown had been. Tears formed in the corners of your eyes as her tongue dragged over your now-exposed pussy, lapping up the slick staining the inside of your thighs. Her nose ground against your overly sensitive clit as she buried herself in your cunt, less focused on your pleasure and more dedicated to eating you alive – pointed teeth scraping against tender flesh as she ran the flat of her tongue over your entrance, refusing to let a single part of you go uncared for. Because she was caring for you, like a lover, like a nurse.

Like an owner.

You dug your teeth into the inside of your cheek with enough force to draw blood. She was not a lover, or an owner, and she wasn’t taking care of you – nothing about this could be called caring. You tried to snap your thighs shut, to pull yourself up, but the blunt tip of her prolonged tongue dipped into your entrance and it was all you could do to scream – the noise tearing out of your throat as something pathetic and miserable. If Leo noticed your agony, she wasn’t in a place to care, too busy curling her tongue inside of you, grinding against the clenching walls of your cunt and abusing every spot that made you shake and moan and drip. It wasn’t hard to see what she was motivated by, what she was chasing after, but knowing why she was doing this didn’t make it any easier to endure. You’d never be able to look at her again, after this. You wouldn’t be able to let her stay with you, anymore. You’d have to make her leave.

That was, if you ever found a way to.

You managed to get an arm underneath you, but it didn’t matter. Her unoccupied pair of hands clamped down around your hips, your thighs forced onto her shoulders as she straightened her back and threatened to fold you in half, all-but devouring your cunt with a renewed gluttony. Fuck. Fuck. Her tongue was too fast, too flexible; twisting inside of you, filling you entirely. The pressure on your clit, while not deliberate, wasn’t helping, and it was only a matter of time until you could feel your legs twitching where they were propped on her shoulders, until your vocalizations turned form moans to whines to muttering – all ‘stop’ and ‘no, don’t’ and ‘not there’, hasty and incoherent and humiliating. You couldn’t stop yourself, though.

You were starting to think you’d never be able to do much of anything ever again.

She didn’t stop when you came. You doubted she even noticed; her purring only growing louder, the movement of her tongue taking on a more wild sort of pattern. No, she drew back after you’d gone limp underneath her, your voice dying until those little, keening nothings were the only noise you could make. Distantly, you could feel your body being lowered back onto your bed, Leo shifting above you, then two fingers swiping over your cunt. You felt something prodding against your lips, and too exhausted to resist, opened your mouth. “Good girl,” Leo cooed, her inflection mimicking that of someone talking down to something smaller, something lesser. The taste of your own slick mixed with her saliva flooded your senses, as vile as it was saccharine. “Sweet, and pretty, and good. My good girl.”

Her head dipped, her lips finding yourself. This kiss was softer than her first, tender rather than hungry, lingering rather than desperate. As she held you there, you felt something wrap around your throat – cold as ice and soft as velvet. When you found the will to open your eyes, you looked not towards Leo’s expression, her dazzling smile, but to her right hand and the beaded silver cord tangled around it.

You didn’t have to guess what the other end was connected to.

“All mine.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere oc

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2-dsimp · 3 months ago

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Is Temothy milk-able? asking for a friend-

also I want to press his face into my tits (34DDD in US size apparently, is that consider big to yall?) thanks

Cw: NSFW MDNI fem reader! Bull milking, titty sucking, slight overstimulation, Temothy will always be pent up.

Yandere Bull! Whose balls are so congested that you’d need to expel the backlogs of excessive precum clogging up his rich sperm. You’d have to take a sit on the stool and spend half an hours coaxing his pre jizz from his cockslit either by hand or mouth. Though you may risk getting doused in sticky pregame or possibly drowning if you try to swallow it all. Until you can finally get to that pure dick milk from his heavy bull balls.

Yandere Bull! Who’d needily bury his face into your breasts and would take a whole tit in his mouth sucking one it like a babe. After begging for a taste with teary doe eyes from how fucked he was from being continuously milked by his darling boss.

————-/———/———

A/n: (I honestly dunno, heck I don’t even pay attention to my own bra size. But all I know is that they can be a nuisance at times lmao. Also hope that friend of yours got the stamina to milk a bull 👀)

#Temothy the Bull #monster x you #monster x reader #yandere monster #yandere hybrid #yandere male x reader #tw monsterfucking #monster fucker #fem reader #yandere smut #monster smut #smut imagine #smut scenarios #smut headcanons #smut blurb #smut drabble #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere x y/n

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teratosfavouritesnack · 4 months ago

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"Ishtà-kurme"

husband!orc x chubby!fem!human x husband's sons - orcish mating traditions, your first time with your husband, voyeurism, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, unprotected piv, multiple orgasms, loads of cum, cum eating, family bonding (let's call it like that lol), soft doms, your husband's sons' very first time (just to be very clear, there's NO INCEST here, his sons are not yours), slight language barrier, romantic fluff <3

Your husband needs you to take part in his sons' rite of passage to adulthood.

+12 k.

The long fabrics of your dress brush against the smooth stones on the ground as you walk at a brisk pace towards Mauhul - your Mau. You can feel butterflies stir in your belly, your heart racing in anticipation at the prospect of making love for the first time with your beloved husband.

When he called for you, requesting your presence in his chambers, you felt it in your bones; you would finally consummate your marriage and start your new life together. You’re not sure why it didn’t happen on your wedding night, nobody even mentioned the matter before or during the ceremony. After the festivities, you and Mauhul had simply parted, retiring to your own separate quarters for the night. And you did so for the following nights as well, after spending a lot of time together, snuggling in the sunlight. You had concluded that perhaps the orcs didn’t follow the same customs of your people and so you had tried to not give it too much importance. Sooner or later you would be intimate, that much is certain, and so you went on with your life, hanging out with your husband, deepening your bond, while waiting patiently for that special moment to arrive.

And you think that moment could very well be upon you.

Your hand shakes a little as you push the door to his chambers open. You pictured this moment in your mind so many times: your tall, buff orc lying on his bed, already fully undressed, waiting for you to join him, beckoning you over with an inviting grin on his lips…

The scene you’re presented with, however, is quite different. Your husband stands by the crackling fire, half-naked, in the company of his two sons… who are also half-naked. Loincloths made of animals pelts cover their modesty, leaving the rest fully exposed. Their mighty builds, broad shoulders, massive chests, thick arms and thighs are all in full view, making your eyes widen even further and your now tensed hand linger on the steady surface of the wooden door. Your stunned stare darts from one orc to the next, until it lands on your husband with a silent questioning look.

Mauhul's black eyes instantly light up as they meet your gaze, watching you as you hesitantly stand by the doorway. The chief orc smiles and steps away from the fire to welcome you.

"Ah, my love, come in," he says, extending his hand. His sons, Tarek and Moth - spitting images of their father - watch you as you approach, their dark eyes flitting between you and their parent with a mix of curiosity and something else that you can't quite decipher.

There's some tension in the air that makes you nervous. His sons' presence in his chambers cannot be left to chance. You can sense there's a reason they're here and for you to be here as well, with them.

"We were just discussing something important," your husband says. His movements are fluid despite his immense bulk as he walks towards you.

You try to mask your apprehension as you step closer until you're standing right in front of him. He’s so much taller than you that you have to crane your neck to meet his eyes.

"W-What… about?" you ask him hesitantly, voice trembling slightly. Your hands fiddle with the drapes of your long dress, the fine fabric creasing under the pressure of your nervous pinches.

"Their coming of age.” His answer is simple, though it makes you uneasy.

Mauhul watches you closely. He senses your discomfort and can see the slight tremors that run through your hands as you toy with the fabric of your dress. His large, calloused hand reaches out to cover yours, stilling your fidgeting. His touch is tender, a stark contrast to his intimidating size and looks.

"Their coming of age?" you repeat, the words heavy on your tongue. Your eyes dart to his sons, who seem to be watching you and their father with bated breath.

"This is a significant rite of passage for them," he states, his voice soft and soothing. "They've grown strong and capable. And I, as their father, must ensure they realize the importance of the role that they're about to hold in the clan," Mauhul adds, his fingers trailing down your arm and raising goosebumps across your skin.

You swallow and blink up at him, puzzled. You're not sure what the implications of his words are or how you fit into this scenario, but you can feel the tension in the room getting heavier and heavier by the second.

Mauhul's free hand goes to rest gently on your chin, tilting it upward so you focus on his eyes, his gaze intense and almost primal.

"And as they approach adulthood, there are certain... traditions that must be observed," he says, his fingertips slowly tracing the line of your jaw, leaving tingles in their wake.

You shudder under his delicate touch, his words making your stomach turn. Your body seems to be catching up on the undertone of this conversation long before your mind.

"W-What sort of traditions?" You inquire cautiously, unsure whether or not you genuinely wish to know.

Mauhul's nostrils flare slightly as he inhales deeply, taking in your scent - a blend of fear, excitement, and innocence that only adds to his yearning.

"There are rituals that mark an orc's transition from young to adult," he says, his voice dropping to a rumble. "Rituals that involve you, my lovely wife. Tonight, you'll be their partner in this rite."

You blink, your eyes widening and flitting to the young orcs before returning upon him. You gaze into your husband's kind eyes, hoping to find some answers into the depths of his dark pools to the myriad of questions spinning inside your mind.

"I..." you stutter, your stomach churning. "I'm afraid I don't u-understand..."

Or perhaps you’re choosing not to understand. The more you think about it, the stranger it all sounds. What kind of partner would he require for his sons' transition from orclings to adults? How could you possibly assist them?

Your breath hitches, your brows furrows. Surely, he doesn't mean...

Your gaze darts back and forth between him and his sons as you subconsciously back away, your mind finally catching up to what has been left unsaid.

"Mau..."

Mauhul's smile fades slightly as he senses your anxiety. He steps forward again, closing the distance between you two, his hand coming up to gently cup your chin, making you look back up at him.

"My love," he murmurs, his voice softening slightly, "This is an important rite for my sons to go through. And you... you have an important part to play in it."

His other hand comes to rest at your hip, gently pulling you closer. "Do you trust me, kisee ?"

Your wide-eyed stare searches his face, with a trace of panic in it. You swallow again, attempting to soothe the furious hammering of your heart, but with little success. The prospect of taking part in such a rite causes your body to oscillate between uneasiness and wicked trepidation.

Of course you trust your Mau, but you're confused by what's being asked of you. You also can't help but think of your unconsummated marriage. If what you assume this rite is about is actually true, does that imply you will be intimate with his sons prior to your own husband? This notion doesn't sit well with you.

"But, Mau... W-what about us? We haven't..." Your voice trails off as you frown up at him.

A faint smile flickers across Mauhul's lips as he watches the plethora of emotions dance across your face. He can see the panic in your eyes, the trepidation, the confusion, and the trust you have in him... all mixed in a beautiful, confusing whirlwind. He leans down, brushing his lips against your ear, his breath warm and soft against your skin.

"I know, mìzaah ," he murmurs, his hand at your hip pulling you closer, his body pressing against yours, "But that will change tonight. I will claim you as my wife, completely, and my sons will be here to witness it."

You gasp sharply at his words, your body instantly warming up. Your hands reach up to tug at his long braid, your wide eyes meeting his again. Now you understand. He has been delaying your intimate union precisely for this moment, precisely for this rite.

You glance back at his sons, looking at the young orcs as if you're seeing them now for the first time. You haven't had time to build a closer connection with them yet, they're almost strangers to you and the mere idea of letting them witness your lovemaking sends your body into a frenzy.

"Will they only... watch... or...?" You express your concerns, dropping your voice so that only your spouse can hear.

Mauhul smirks, clearly aware of your body's reaction to his words and touch. He draws you in closer, his hand on your hip going around your waist and pulling you flush against him. He glances down into your eyes, his gaze glazed over with desire.

"They will watch," he declares, stooping down to whisper in your ear, his breath fanning your skin. "They'll watch as you become entirely mine. Learn from it. And then... join in."

You breathe in sharply once you hear him confirm your worries.

Your fingers dig into his braid, lightly tugging on it. Your wide eyes lock onto his face again, boring deep into his own, seeking confirmation, reassurance... guidance.

His intense but reassuring gaze is fixed on yours, ensuring that intense connection you've become so addicted to.

"Trust me, my love," he murmurs with a deep rumble. "I will guide you through it. You have nothing to fear. And I'll be the one to claim you first. My sons will learn from me... and then they will learn from you, as you please them as well."

His sinful words send chills down your spine as they snake their way through your mind, bringing to life vivid images of the scenario they depict. However, the shivering rapidly gives way to a warmth that pools between your thighs. You can't deny the growing dampness there, or how your nipples harden against the silky fabric of your dress.

Your heart stutters, your body trembles, and your doe eyes gaze straight into his as the words leave your lips in a shaky whisper.

"If this is what you request of me, husband..."

Mauhul nods, his smile broadening, his eyes filled with possessive pride, delighted by your trust and devotion, moved by your willingness to please.

"It is, my love," he replies, lifting his hand to cup your face, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheek. "I would never ask this of you unless it was of the utmost importance to our tribe."

He bends down and gently captures your lips in his, his hand on your hip pulling you closer. The tender but meaningful kiss has you melting on the spot and your mind spinning, your lips chasing his even as he moves away.

"You'd honour me... and my sons with your willing participation."

Your gaze lingers on his lips, filled with increasing yearning. Your hand relaxes its grip on his hair, traveling up his torso to rest on his tattoo-covered chest.

"I'll be honored to take part in your tradition," you say softly, your eyes meeting again. "And help your sons in their coming of age."

The sight of your small palm on his chest, your eyes glazed with need, sends a rush of primal satisfaction through Mauhul's veins. His massive hand goes from your face down your neck, tracing the curve of your shoulder before resting on your lower back and pulling you close against his strong body.

"You are... perfect, mìzaah ," he murmurs, his voice a deep rumble, filled with desire and admiration. "Your trust and willingness please me greatly. And my sons... they will be grateful to you as well. They will know what it means to honour a woman... to worship a woman as she should be worshipped."

His remarks, praises, and probing hands make your body tingle, and your cheeks flush crimson with heat. A soft hum escapes your lips as your hand glides from his chest to his cheek, stroking it lovingly.

Mauhul closes his eyes for a moment, savouring the gentle gesture. When he reopens them, they are filled with a burning longing. His hand on your back squeezes, bringing you closer.

"We shall begin the ritual, then," he announces, his voice thick with lust.

He glances over his shoulder to his offspring, who are still standing by the fire, observing the two of you with ardent looks. "Come closer, sons."

Your gaze shifts to the two young orcs as he urges them closer. Your eyes rake over their forms, taking them in. It's equally odd and comforting that they resemble their father so much... Although, given your understanding of what is about to occur and their role in it, you can't help but flush in embarrassment at the sight of them.

As the lads approach, their steps slow but deliberate, Mauhul returns his gaze to you, his hand firmly spread across your hip. Your stomach flips under his possessive touch, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your belly from above the fabrics of your dress.

"Kneel, boys." he gruffly instructs.

You watch in amazement and awe as they drop obediently at your feet. Their gazes are keen and fascinated as they take in your smaller stature while towering over your frame even as they stand on their knees.

Mauhul instead moves to stand tall behind you, one arm wrapped around your waist, possessively holding you close while his free hand traces idle patterns along the curve of your thigh. Seeing you marvel at his sons then look up at him expectantly, uncertainty clear in your expressive eyes, he gives you a reassuring nod and a warm, indulgent smile. His eyes glow with pride and affection for you. You're such a delicate creature compared to his burly sons, to his burly self as well, yet here you are, ready to undertake this crucial task for his family.

"This is their chance to admire you properly," he explains quietly, leaning down to murmur in your ear, "to appreciate the beauty and delicacy of the female form... before they learn to ravish and conquer it."

His large hand trails lightly up your side, brushing the outer swell of your breast before cupping the back of your neck in a gesture that feels both protective and possessive. He draws your head back so you can meet his piercing black gaze without straining your neck.

"They must show proper respect first and look upon you..." his gravelly voice drops to a conspiratorial purr, "...upon your pure unveiled beauty.”

You shiver at his purr and look up at your husband as if mesmerized. Your lips part but do not form words. You simply nod your head in consent, ready - as if you could ever be ready for something like this - to do whatever he asks of you. Your body suddenly grows too hot under the fabric of your dress.

With a satisfied grunt, Mauhul allows himself a moment to admire how beautifully you submit yourself to the situation - your eagerness to please him evident in every trembling breath and flustered blush painting your delicate features. Then, with a firm but gentle tug, he begins to untie the laces at the back of your gown, his fingers deftly working the knots of your bodice loose.

"Mmh. You wore your best dress for this, kisee …" he murmurs appreciatively, his breath warm against your skin as he exposes more of your delicate flesh inch by tantalizing inch.

"Oh..." a soft gasp escapes your lips at his praise. You did choose this dress in the hopes he would take his time peeling it off of you. Your eyes flicker to your bodice coming undone and pooling at your wide hips. A red shade dusts your cheeks as you briefly glance at the two orcs kneeling before you, noting how hungrily they are drinking in the newly exposed sight, before you bashfully avert your gaze and bite down on your lip.

Mauhul chuckles deeply, amused by your modest reaction despite the situation. His rough hand slides up from your thigh to rest on the bulge of your soft belly, pressing your body closer to his towering form.

“You've got nothing to be ashamed of,” he assures you in a rumbling tone, tracing the edge of the fabric that now clings loosely to your curves. “They are honoured to witness such beauty.

“And so am I.”

With a final yank, Mauhul pulls the gown completely off your shoulders, letting it pool at your feet. You stand now before him, clad only in a simple linen shift that does little to hide the enticing curves of your body. Your breasts strain against the thin fabric, nipples hardening in the humid air of the hut.

His sons' hungry gazes drink in every detail of your exposed form, their breathing growing heavier as they marvel at the contrast of your delicate features and petite frame against the robust, muscular build of their father, standing behind you like a looming shadow.

Your instincts urge you to press your thighs together and lean back against your husband's chest, as if seeking shelter. You refrain however from draping your arms across your torso to conceal your obvious arousal, visible even from beneath the linen shift. You keep your gaze away, a bashful look engraved on your face, yet you still try to catch his boys' gazes, ashamed albeit curious about their reactions. It's strange; deep down, you actually want his sons to like you so as to please your husband, to make him proud.

“You needn't be coy with them, my love” he purrs, grazing his tusks along the sensitive skin of your throat. “They hunger for you, just as I do.”

Turning your face toward his, Mauhul captures your lips in a searing kiss, plundering your mouth with his tongue and staking his claim for all to see. When he finally breaks away, he looks down at your flushed face with satisfaction, noting how dazedly you meet his heated gaze.

“You please me greatly,” he whispers, his hands trailing up your arms, his calloused fingers gently peeling the strands of your shift down the curve of your shoulders. “And you’re about to please me even more.”

You feel a rush of satisfaction as you hear the praise. Your hooded eyes are fixed on his dark, mesmerizing pools. A soft, fond smile blooms on your lips as you keep staring up at your spouse, as if he is the beacon you follow, while he undresses you entirely.

As the last threads of fabric fall away, exposing your full form to his hungry gaze, Mauhul lets out a low, approving rumble. The sight of your delicate skin bathed in firelight is enough to stir the beast within. His sons' eyes widen in unison, relishing the sight of your creamy, supple curves.

“Beautiful…”, he mutters reverently, his gaze roving over every inch of your exposed flesh. From the swell of your breasts, down to the soft narrowness of your waist, to the roundness of your hips and thighs – each part molded with flawless generosity.

Mauhul reaches around to cup one of your breasts, his calloused palm enveloping the soft mound. He thumbs your hardened nipple, eliciting a startled moan from your parted lips.

“And so responsive too,” he praises, his voice dripping with adoration. “Such a treasure to behold and claim.”

His sons watch, transfixed, as Mauhul continues to fondle and tease your sensitive breasts.

Your body arches against his under his eager touch. Soft moans leave your lips in appreciation, your skin tingling all over and rising with goosebumps. Your thighs squeeze together again, this time to create friction for the ever-growing ache in your core. This is the first time your husband touches you in such an intimate way and you're already lost in the pleasure his warm, rough palm brings you. You almost forget his sons are watching and are soon to witness their father claim you as his.

Feeling your thighs clamp together, Mauhul chuckles lowly, the sound vibrating through his chest and against your ear. His grip on your breast tightens, squeezing the soft flesh firmly as he watches you react.

“So impatient, aren't we?” he teases, pinching your nipple harder, drawing another sweet moan from your plump lips. “But we mustn't rush things, my love. This will be a long night.” his growl vibrates against your skin. “I will savour you and make sure you remember this night for the rest of your days. Just as my sons and I will.”

His free hand moves lower, skimming across your soft stomach until it finds its way to the moist heat between your thighs. As his fingers delve into your slick folds, he finds your swollen clit, circling it slowly.

The moment his thick fingers meet your nub, your breath hitches sharply and your whole body jolts in pleasure, knees buckling under your weight. Your head falls back against his broad chest and your eyes flutter closed.

A guttural groan escapes Mauhul as he feels how wet you are already. His thumb rubs your clit faster, coaxing more sounds of delight from your quivering lips. His other hand squeezes and kneads your breast, tweaking the nipple roughly between his thumb and forefinger. With your back pressed against his front, Mauhul can easily feel every little response to his touch. Your walls clench around nothing, desperate for something to fill them. He groans deeply, feeling his own desire spike at the thought of taking you, finally claiming what’s his.

“See? Such a responsive little thing you are”, he murmurs into your ear, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive lobe. “You were made for me, weren't you?”

He continues to circle your clit, applying just enough pressure to make you squirm. His other hand leaves your breast, tracing down your side before gripping onto your thigh firmly and lifting it, stretching your cunt. In this position, his touch feels even more intense, the thrills of pleasure coursing through your body are even sharper.

His sons watch, enraptured, as Mauhul's large fingers work magic on your quivering flesh.

With practised ease, he begins to rub faster, applying pressure that sends shockwaves of delight through your body. Your cries fill the air, mingling with the crackling fire and his son's heavy breathing.

"Oh, Mau-!" you whimper, writhing against his chest, hips seeking and at the same time trying to evade his greedy fingers.

Hearing his name fall so sweetly from your lips only fuels Mauhul's desire further. His movements become more purposeful, and relentless. He presses two thick digits inside your slick warmth, relishing the way you cling to him.

“You like that, do you?” he asks gruffly, curling his fingers upwards to stroke against your innermost walls.

The boys continue to watch in reverent silence, their eyes wide with fascination and barely concealed lust. Seeing their father take you so eagerly only serves to inflame their own arousal. Their erections already strain painfully against their loincloths, yearning for release.

Mauhul adds another finger, stretching your tight pussy even wider. Each thrust sends ripples of pleasure through both him and you.

You writhe against his firm body, your walls throbbing around his thick fingers stretching you out. Your hooded eyes look up, searching his gaze as you pant heavily. You can feel a hot pleasure coil in your lower belly, and your legs twitching more and more as the climax gets closer. The squelching sound his fingers produce by pumping in and out of your wet cunt drowns out every other noise.

Mauhul's eyes burn with primal hunger as he watches you lose yourself to the sensations he's creating. Your needy whimpers and the sight of your succumbing to his touch are intoxicating. Feeling your impending orgasm, Mauhul quickens his pace, driving his fingers deeper and faster. His thumb still circles your clit relentlessly, pushing you closer to the edge.

“That's it, cum for me,” he urges in a deep rumble. “Come apart on my fingers like the good little wife you are.”

He pistons his digits in and out of you rapidly, each thrust hitting that special spot inside you. Mauhul's own need is becoming unbearable, his cock throbbing painfully in his loincloth, pressing against your spine.

His words send you hurtling over the edge. Your pussy clenches tightly around his fingers as you cry out, your body spasming with the force of your orgasm. Mauhul keeps pumping, milking you for every drop of your release and you almost feel yourself faint from the overwhelming pleasure you experience. Heavy and loud pants fall from your parted lips as you sag against him, nearly dropping on the ground when your knees give out under you.

Feeling you come undone on his hand elicits a growl of satisfaction from Mauhul. He revels in the way your body trembles and in the vice-like grip of your spasming pussy around his fingers. He slows his motions, letting you ride out the aftershocks of your orgasm and holding you steady, one strong arm hooked around your middle to keep you from falling.

As you regain some semblance of control over your limbs, Mauhul withdraws his fingers from your dripping pussy with a lewd squelch and brings them up to his mouth, where he laps at them hungrily. A low grunt escapes him at the salty-sweet flavour, fueling his desire even more.

Slowly, deliberately, he sinks to his knees behind you and pulls you close, letting you lean your whole weight on him, your ass pressed against the upper side of his chest, your arm latched around his shoulders. He prays your trembling legs open again, holding your thigh up with his forearm and allowing his sons a perfect view of your glistening sex.

"Behold," he announces reverently, "the most precious prize. My wife’s sweet honey."

He dips his fingers in your juices again, splaying them all over his palm, then presents it to his sons’ hungry gazes, stretching his fingers to display your sticky essence.

“Why don’t you give them a little taste, hm my love?”

His free hand nudges your own and your hooded eyes flicker to his face. Your mind is still hazy after your intense release and you struggle to register his words.

Seeing your confusion, Mauhul takes your small hand in his massive one and guides it towards your soaked folds. His sons' eager eyes follow the movement, drinking in the sight of your delicate fingers coated in your own arousal.

“Let them taste you,” he explains, his voice a low rumble. “Feed them.”

With Mauhul's encouragement, you hesitantly extend your fingers towards the boys. They hungrily lean in, their tongues darting out to lick at your sticky digits. Moans of pleasure escape their lips as they savour your unique flavour.

Your chest heaves with a shuddering breath upon feeling their avid tongues swirl around your fingers. The haze in your mind is slowly fading and the realization of what is happening has you blushing all over again, especially as you notice how their eyes remain locked on yours, watching your reaction intently.

Noticing your blush, Mauhul smirks, pleased to see such a response from you. The sight of his sons worshipping your fingers like precious gems is incredibly arousing. He can't help but let out a satisfied groan, the sound vibrating against your back. He leans into your neck, whispering words meant only for your ears.

“Enjoy this, mìzaah . This is how you deserve to be treated – to be worshiped like a goddess.” His voice is a rough purr, filled with promise and intent.

Mauhul slips his hand up to cup and squeeze your breasts, thumb brushing over your hardened nipples. Shifting a little on his knees, he gently pushes your thighs wider apart. Your folds glistening wetly, inviting and tantalizing. His gaze shifts back to his sons, still licking and sucking thirstily at your fingers.

“Do you want more?” he questions them, voice laden with promise. Their nods and hums of approval are quick to follow and you can see their pupils dilate at the inviting sight of you stretched out so open for them. They glance back at their father, seeking his confirmation before they crawl forward, almost bumping their heads against each other in their eagerness to taste your juices directly from the source.

“Careful boys, there’s enough for the both of you.” he teases with a hearty chuckle, playfully squeezing your thighs as you whimper at the contact of their greedy tongues meeting your sensitive pussy.

Mauhul’s presence is large and imposing, yet his touch remains gentle as he helps you maintain balance while the boys worship your cunt. Their tongue action intensifies, their slurping sounds echoing in the room and their excitement palpable.

Looking down at them adoringly, he speaks in an authoritative tone, “Clean her properly, make sure you get all of her precious nectar.” His eyes land back on your face and an amused grin spreads on his face. “It will make you grow even stronger.”

Your arm squeezes tighter around his neck, seeking his grounding presence as his sons make you squirm and writhe against their tongues. Your head drops against his, your cheek pressing over his own, your shallow breaths fanning his skin.

The boys listen attentively to their father's instructions, their tongues swirling and probing deeper into your slick entrance. Mauhul's laughter rumbles through him, vibrating against your ear and sending pleasant tingles down your spine.

Watching his sons work diligently on pleasuring you only fuels Mauhul's own desires further. He can't help but let his eyes roam over your curves appreciatively, taking in every quiver and gasp that leaves your lips. With deliberate slowness, he slides his hand down from your breasts to trace along the side of your hips.

"Look how beautiful you are," he murmurs huskily. "My wife… my treasure."

His touch is tender yet possessive as he runs his rough fingertips across your soft skin, outlining each curve like he’s memorizing them.

The combination of your husband’s praises and reverent touches and his sons’ eager mouths sucking and lapping at you is too much to bear. A series of ever louder mewls fall from your lips, your grip tightening on Mauhul’s neck, as you feel another overwhelming orgasm crash onto you. Your body contorts sharply and your eyes roll back as white-hot pleasure blinds you.

"That's it, my love," he coos, his voice a soothing rumble. "Let go, let us take care of you."

The boys continue to lap at you, prolonging your bliss until you finally start to come down. As your tremors subside, they look up at their father with proud, satisfied grins, their faces smeared with your essence, their cheeks flushed and chests rising and falling rapidly due to their exertions.

“Good pups.” Mauhul looks at them fondly before turning his attention back to you. He tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his intense, dark gaze. "Aren’t they good pups, hm?”

You're still trying to ease your breathing as your heavy-lidded eyes meet his. You barely have the force to nod your head but take a deep breath and glance lazily at his sons, wishing to praise them for how amazing they made you feel. "G-Good pups..." you manage to say in a breathless and shaky voice.

A pleased smile curls at the corners of Mauhul's mouth, delighted by your response.

“You heard her, boys?”

The pride in Mauhul's eyes is unmistakable and so is the reverent awe in his sons’.

He gives your chin a gentle squeeze before releasing it. His gaze never wavers from yours, filled with a depth of affection and possession that sends warmth spreading through your entire being.

"Now, we show them how a true mate submits to her husband... and how a true husband worships his mate."

With a swift motion, Mauhul grabs hold of your hips firmly, and hoists himself up from the ground, bringing you up with him as well. He cradles you in his arms like a precious treasure and carries you towards the centre of the room, where the firelight casts long shadows across the ground.

"And you, my sons," he addresses the boys over his shoulder, "watch carefully and learn. This is what it means to belong to someone."

With that said, Mauhul lies you down on the furs, positioning you right in the middle. The boys watch their father with wide-eyed fascination as he eases himself down on top of you. There's an air of expectation and anticipation amongst you all – eager for whatever comes next.

Your hooded eyes are locked onto him, unwavering from his towering muscular form; they lazily roam over his bare chest, lashes drooping slowly as you breathe deeply, still trying to regain control of your pounding heart. Yet, it is difficult for you to prevent your heart from stuttering at the sight of your handsome partner and the prospect of what he is, finally, going to do to you. You melt into the warm, soft furs beneath you, your tender body still trembling from the unparalleled ecstasy you've just experienced. Your hair is scattered all around your head, and your thighs are clamped together, curling lazily on top of one other. All the while, your eyes marvel at him.

A low growl escapes from deep within Mauhul's throat as he hovers above you, his massive form casting a shadow over yours. He reaches out with one hand, tracing the delicate curve of your jawline with his calloused fingers before cupping your cheek gently.

"You are so beautiful, my love," he whispers, his voice low and husky with desire. "I could stare at you forever..."

Slowly, deliberately, he leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. It's a kiss filled with passion, hunger, and adoration. His tongue delves into your mouth, tangling with yours in a slow sensual dance as he explores every inch of your mouth. When he pulls away, his breath mingles with yours, and his eyes burn with a smouldering intensity.

“Feel me”, he whispers hoarsely, his hot breath sending chills down your spine. His hands gently take hold of yours, guiding them to his taut muscular chest. “I am your protector, your provider, your lover.”

Your hands reverently plane over his muscles, lingering over his heart, feeling its steady beat under your palm and his muscles flexing beneath your touch. Your eyes rake over his body, taking in his powerful physique, each mark on his skin telling a story of triumphs and failures. You bask in his warmth and the trepidant feeling buzzing within you. You're about to finally consummate your wedding with your husband, to be united with him in the most intimate and primal way. You don't even think about his sons watching you anymore, it's as if there's nobody else in the room but you and your beloved.

You meet his gaze again. Your eyes sparkle with pure devotion. The flickering flames of the fire are reflected in your big doe eyes, looking up at him so earnestly and expectantly.

There’s no mistaking the tenderness emanating from Mauhul’s touch as he lets go of your hands and begins tracing patterns along your exposed curves - mapping out every part of your body as if he has already learnt every curve and dip by heart.

His large hands slide down your sides, then grip your waist firmly, lifting you slightly to position your buttocks on his thighs. He captures your lips in another heated kiss as he presses his hardness against your core. He grinds slowly, relishing the sweet friction and the gasp that escapes your lips.

Your body arches instinctively into his touch. You are so ready, so wet, so incredibly eager for him.

With a tug he strips off his loincloth, revealing his fully erect cock to your hungry gaze. It stands tall and thick, a golden ring sitting at the base, its rosy head dripping with pre-cum, a visible testament to his keen arousal.

Your eyes widen at the sight of it, at its veiny-mapped look and mighty size which seems to stir something within your very core, a thrill running down your spine straight to your throbbing sex. There’s a hint of apprehension now clouding your gaze too, your body tenses just thinking of his thick, lengthy cock shoving its way into your hole.

“Trust me,” he murmurs as if sensing your concern, his voice rough yet reassuring. “I would never harm you.”

You nod and bury your hands in the furs at your sides as you brace yourself for what's coming next, anticipating both pain and pleasure. But he takes hold of your hands again, holding them tight in his warm palm, settling them on your lower belly. His eyes bore deeply into yours, engulfing you with a soothing warmth that permeates your whole body.

He lifts your legs higher with his free hand, spreading them wide across his hips as he aligns himself with your slick entrance. With deliberate slowness, he pushes in – just enough to breach that tight barrier, stretching you open inch by agonizing inch until he's buried balls-deep inside you, the golden ring is cool against your hot flesh. His eyes never leave yours.

Your walls stretch to accommodate him and clench tightly around his shaft. A groan rips from deep within his throat, pleasure coursing through his veins at this first intimate connection with his wife, as he feels how snug you are around him – how perfectly you fit him.

Mauhul drinks in the sight of you, his pupils dilating at the raw emotion shining in your eyes. He feels a surge of possessiveness and protectiveness wash over him, knowing that this precious beauty belongs to him now, body and soul.

Your body is shaken by faint tremors, your muscles tense, your walls throbbing around his unmoving length. Your locked eyes say everything about your connection, and the way he's gazing down at you, holding your hands and pulsating within your walls makes you feel so utterly... loved.

He holds still for a longer moment, savouring the incredible feeling of being completely enveloped by your warmth and tightness. His heavy lids briefly drift closed as he revels in the blissful sensations, letting out a low, rumbling moan.

A few beats pass, and then with a guttural grunt, he begins to move, withdrawing almost completely before plunging back into your welcoming heat. He sets a slow, deep rhythm, relishing each stroke as he fills you again and again, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with a lewd sound.

His gaze never departs from your own, drinking in the play of emotions dancing across your face – the initial tension giving way to relaxation, to acceptance, to growing pleasure. He can feel you responding to him, your inner muscles rippling around his shaft, urging him deeper.

"You are truly mine now," he growls, punctuating each word with a powerful stroke. His hand tightens on yours as he picks up speed, driving into you with increasing urgency, chasing the blissful release you both crave. “And I am yours. Completely.”

Shivers of pleasure consume every cell in your body as he thrusts in and out of you at the most tantalizing and blissful speed. You can feel his length sink deep into you under your palms resting on your lower belly, where his hand keeps them still as if aiming to make you feel even more connected to him. "Mauhul, ohh... gods-" you whimper breathlessly, your eyes crossing slightly as the pressure in your stomach mounts.

The sound of your sweet cries spurs him on and he increases his tempo, pounding into you with relentless fervour, driven by primal urges and a deep need to claim you thoroughly. His hips slam against yours with each powerful thrust, the force sending jolts of pleasure radiating outward from your joining point.

He can tell you're nearing your peak, your moans turning to breathy cries of ecstasy, your hips bucking against his to meet each of his powerful thrusts. His strong arms wrap around your smaller frame, dwarfing you, and making you arch against his body. He leans down, capturing one of your nipples in his hot mouth, sucking hard on your sensitive button as he continues to plunge into you with unyielding force, setting a relentless pace designed to drive you wild with pleasure.

The dual stimulation sends shockwaves through you, intensifying the throbbing contractions of your pussy around his cock. Your hands reach out to grab onto something, finding his thick biceps. His muscles flex and ripple beneath your fingers as he drives into you with abandon, the rhythmic slap of flesh on flesh filling the air.

His dark eyes lock onto yours, watching intently as tears well up in your eyes due to the overwhelming sensations. Pride, satisfaction, and adoration mingle together in his penetrating gaze.

“Come for me, mìzaah ,” he urges, his voice husky with desire. “Let me feel you squeeze my cock as you come undone.” He rocks into you harder, faster, seeking that perfect spot inside you to send you over the edge.

His lips leave your nipple to trail searing kisses along your jawline, nipping and sucking at the tender skin there as his cock drills relentlessly into your slick folds. He reaches down with one large hand to press firmly against your clit, rubbing the swollen bud in time with his thrusts, intent on throwing you over the edge into a shattering climax.

And he does push you to the brink of madness, sending your body convulsing against him, with cries of ecstasy tumbling out of your parted lips. Your walls clench tighter around him, milking his throbbing shaft, drawing him closer to his own peak.

He revels in the sensation of total possession, feeling you unravel beneath him. His grip tightens on your curves, dragging you along the slippery fur bed as he seeks out every last drop of pleasure from your coupling.

With a savage roar, he tightens his arms around you and buries himself to the hilt, his shaft pulsing as he erupts inside you, flooding your womb with his hot seed. Wave after wave of intense pleasure crashes over him, his vision blurring as he loses himself in the all-consuming bliss of your joining. For long moments, he remains buried deep, savouring the aftershocks and the feeling of your still-clenching warmth around him, while you’re lost in a haze of ecstasy.

You’re still panting heavily, feeling thoroughly spent as your hooded eyes slowly regain focus, landing on your husband, taking in his dishevelled state, his sweaty skin, his long black braid draped over his shoulder, his blissful expression... and you feel your lips curl up into a lazy but content smile.

As the waves of pleasure recede, leaving behind a sense of profound satisfaction he pulls out slowly, allowing his spent length to slide free from your clenching walls with a wet pop. The sight of his cum dripping down your thighs and tainting the furs elicits a primal satisfaction from him, a grin spreading across his features.

“Mmh, ùmah (mine),” he coos racously, brushing a calloused thumb over your slick folds, smearing his seed over your soft skin and pushing it back inside your walls. He draws lazy circles around your clit, teasing it gently until you flinch away in protest, still too sensitive to touch.

His eyes roam hungrily over your flushed skin, the sheen of sweat glistening on every curve and valley. His fingertips proudly trace over the mark he's left on your breast with his tusks, as though claiming ownership of your body once more. His fingers then trail back downwards, following the gentle slope of your stomach until reaching the apex of your thighs. He gives your mound a playful smack, chuckling deeply when you squeal in surprise.

His laughter is rich and full, echoing off the stone walls of his chamber as he teases you mercilessly with gentle slaps and pokes, enjoying the way you squirm and writhe beneath his touch, and the lazy breathless giggles that escape your lips. He leans down, planting a series of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your lower belly and inner thigh. Reaching the apex of your legs, he parts your folds with his thumbs, exposing your sensitive pink flesh to the humid air of the room. His nose brushes against your sex, inhaling deeply the intoxicating scent of your arousal mixed with his own essence.

"Mmm, you smell like spring," he growls appreciatively, before he moves lower on the furs, spreading your thighs wide with his massive hands. His tongue darts out, flicking across your wetness in a slow swipe, tasting your juices mingled with his own.

“And you taste like victory,” he declares, dipping his head further between your legs to feast upon your sweetness. Each lick is drawn out, each suckle meant to draw forth another whimper of delight from your quivering form.

His onslaught on your still sensitive bundle of nerves has you wriggling and trashing on the furs, soft strained whimpers falling from your mouth, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging meekly on it. But suddenly you freeze, your heavy eyes landing on the two figures kneeling just a few feet away from you. His sons. How could you forget that you had an audience? They have been watching you coupling as part of their rite! Lost as you were to pleasure you didn't pay them any mind. But now, all at once, your husband's words rush back into your mind, bursting through the fog that has been numbing it. "My sons will learn from me... and then they will learn from you, as you please them as well." Your cheeks flush crimson again at the realization, and they only get hotter when you notice the massive bulges under their loincloths and the way their bodies tremble as if they're about to explode.

Mauhul feels you tense up and follows your startled gaze to where his sons kneel nearby. A low rumble emanates from his chest, somewhere between amusement and paternal pride at the sight of them, so aroused and fascinated by the act of mating. He knows they're learning valuable lessons today, about the power of desire, the thrill of conquest, and the depths of passion that can exist between husband and wife.

“Ah, look at them,” he says, his deep voice laced with mirth. “Look how much they enjoyed watching us. They've learned much about how to please their future mates.”

He shifts, laying beside you, propping himself up on an elbow to look down at your form sprawled languidly on the furs. His rough fingers trace the curve of your hip gently before resting on your plump belly, feeling it rise and fall with each ragged breath you take.

With a nod, he gestures for his boys to come closer, his voice low and commanding. “Approach, lads. Come to claim your new status.”

You watch in both apprehension and trepidation as his sons scramble forward eagerly, their cocks straining against their loincloths as they reach your side. The youngest, Moth, looks a tad more composed, although his breathing is uneven and quick, betraying his internal turmoil. Beside him, Torak appears visibly shaken; beads of perspiration trickling down his forehead, his normally resolute countenance displaying palpable trepidation. Yet both share the common hunger, the craving to experience such carnal intimacy like their father just has, guided by instinct and nature's demands. None move into action, waiting for their father to give them instructions.

Mauhul watches his sons approach, noting the mix of excitement and nervousness etched on their faces. He feels a surge of pride seeing them so eager to claim their place as adults, to follow in his footsteps and assume their roles as warriors and protectors and fathers.

He leans down, pressing a kiss on your shoulder, before sitting up straighter and addressing his offspring.

"Torak, first," he simply states while directing his attention to his eldest son. His tone exudes authority, demanding utter compliance, to which the firstborn responds by taking a tentative step forward, his large hands fumbling with the leather ties that hold his loincloth in place. The material drops away easily, revealing his throbbing cock, fully erect and pulsating with unspent lust.

Your sight settles on his veiny meat, and you linger there for a moment. It's not nearly as large or long as his father's, but it bends slightly upward, giving it a wicked look that makes your walls flutter.

Mauhul glances at you, your face showing signs of nervousness mingled with lustful curiosity – the perfect mix for this particular scenario. There’s something intensely satisfying about watching his family unite like this, bonding through tradition.

“Show her what you’ve learned,” his voice booms through the room, filled with pride and expectation.

Torak’s hands tremble slightly as he reaches out to cup one of your breasts. His touch is tentative at first, unsure, but quickly gains confidence under his father's approving gaze and your soft hums. He leans down, taking a hardened nipple into his mouth, sucking gently while his hand continues to knead the other breast.

Watching his eldest son attend to you stirs something primal within Mauhul, a surge of possessiveness mixed with satisfaction. He leans back on his heels, allowing Torak space to explore and learn while keeping a protective eye on the proceedings.

A smirk plays on his lips as he watches the young orc's tentative touches blossom into confident caresses, spurred on by your moans and the way you arch your back, offering yourself further to his son’s attentions.

You bite onto your bottom lip to muffle your moans as you feel the young orc’s hand travel along your stomach and slide between your thighs. Your lashes flutter and your head cranes slightly to the side to search your husband’s gaze. One of your hands reaches out as well, seeking contact with him. Your fingers find his thigh, resting near your head, and dig slightly into his tight flesh.

Mauhul meets your gaze, his eyes burning with intensity as he allows you to ground yourself through the touch. He covers your hand with his own, holding it firmly against his thigh, the contact a reminder of your connection amidst the sea of new sensations washing over you. His other palm comes up to brush stray hair from your sweat-dampened brow, tucking them behind your ear tenderly.

His voice is a low rasp when he speaks, meant only for your ears. "That's it, kisee . Let yourself feel everything. Remember, my sons are learning from you too - teach them well."

The praise sends a shiver down your spine, his words igniting a fresh wave of arousal but also a deep sense of responsibility. You think you realize now how important this moment is. How meaningful your role is in this rite. And so you brush aside the lingering awkwardness you feel towards this unorthodox orcish tradition, releasing your inhibitions to try and take on the duty your husband has bestowed on you.

Your free hand moves down towards Torak’s head to gently stroke his long dark hair tied in decorative braids, your fingers weaving carefully in his loose roots.

“You’re doing good, Torak.” you praise him softly, a gentle smile tugging at your lips. "Don't be afraid to touch me as you wish." Your stomach flutters when you see the young orc look up at you in a mix of shock and awe, then the instant glint of confidence that flashes across his eyes before he lets his fingers brush against your wet folds and rub around your entrance. His eyes are locked onto yours to gauge your reactions. You moan and nod at him in approval, your hands tightening their relative hold on Torak's hair and your husband's palm.

Mauhul's grip on your hand also tightens reflexively as he watches his eldest son gain courage from your encouragement. Pride swells in his chest, not just for Torak's growing boldness, but for your poise and grace in guiding his son. You embrace your role as a mentor with a natural instinct that takes his breath away.

The sight of Torak's fingers disappearing into your slick heat sets Mauhul's blood aflame, but as much as he longs to join you and stake his claim once more, he knows he has to wait. This is his sons’ moment and he won’t rob them of it. Instead, he leans in close to your ear, his hot breath fanning across your neck as he murmurs, "Such a good mate you are. My precious little wife… helping my sons become Shakran’z. "

Your heart leaps at his words, your languid gaze flickering up to briefly meet his eyes before you lock it onto his firstborn’s expectant look once more. Your fingers curl around the end of his braid, gently pulling on it. Your attention seems to spur him on, leading him to push his thick fingers inside your already thoroughly stretched and naturally lubed entrance. He’s still slightly hesitant in his actions, but you smile at him and roll your hips against his hand, to reassure him that he’s on the right path. “Yes, like that, Torak. Curl your fingers…”

Mauhul delights in the spectacle before him: you, the precious gem of his tribe, deflowering his young in service of mating traditions, but with all the grace and love of someone who genuinely cares for those they guide. It ignites a fire within him unlike anything else.

"That's it, Torak," his voice breaks through the silent haze of lust that fills the hut, gruff yet filled with paternal pride. "Please your mate before you claim them."

His father's words further encourage Torak to be more confident in his actions. His fingers curl and start to slide in and out of you, teasing that spongy area inside of you that has you instantly moaning in pleasure. His other hand moves to your lower belly, positioning his thumb over your clitoris just like he has seen his father do earlier. The pad of his thumb draws uneven circles on your swollen nub, managing to elicit shivers to run through your body.

Your head falls back on the furs, your body writhing and arching under his ministrations. Your palm tightens on Mauhul's hand and he squeezes it back as he watches intently, drinking in every detail of your shared intimacy. The flush spreading across your cheeks, the way your breasts rise and fall rapidly with each moan escaping your lips, the sway of your hips matching Torak's rhythm.

"Good boy," he praises Torak, his voice rough with need. "Make sure she’s ready for you... Make her cum..."

A whimper falls from your lips as Torak quickens his movements, wanting to take you over the edge just as his father said. Your hips buck against his hand, your eyes squeeze shut as you feel that pressure growing in your lower belly all over again.

"Yes... Oh... Yes..." you encourage him, cradling his braid in your shaky fingers until you can't take it anymore and start to convulse in pleasure, a muted scream falling from your parted lips.

You don't have time to recover, however, because feeling your walls clench around his fingers has sent Torak's hunger to the roof. His instincts kick in, overpowering his lack of experience. His eagerness to finally claim his maturity is so deep and ardent that he grabs his cock and pushes it inside you while you're still spasming.

"Oh! Gods!!" you cry out, eyes widening in shock and landing on Torak's hips just as they start to move back and forth with an erratic and disjointed pace that makes your whole body shake and jiggle.

With a low growl, Mauhul witnesses as his eldest plunges into you. Watching as his progeny claims you with his throbbing cock brings forth memories that burn bright within his chest - his own rite of passage decades ago, the impatience of youth, the yearning, the awake of his primal instincts, the overwhelming sensation of completeness, the deep-seated need fulfilled. Your pleasure-laden screams fill the air, mixing with his son’s huffs, setting off an echo of past bliss inside him.

“Easy now,” he growls soothingly through clenched teeth, giving his son a pointed look, to which Torak immediately responds by steadying his thrusts, even if only barely. Since the start of the rite, he’s felt his length throb maddeningly, an ache which only worsened as he watched his father claim his wife. And now that he is finally inside you, he can't hold back any longer. His grunts become louder, his eyes squeeze closed and his warm palms grab onto your hips as he plunges deeper inside you, seeking his first release. Release that comes quickly and overwhelmingly, with hips bucking erratically against yours as his hot seed fills your channel.

Your stunned gaze flashes towards your husband, searching his face, silently questioning if his son was supposed to cum inside you. The proud look etched onto Mauhul's face is enough to convince you that Torak's did exactly what was expected of him. You feel his palm squeeze yours as he cups his son’s jaw, drawing his hooded eyes on him.

"Let it be known," he declares in a loud, clear voice which echoes through the room, "That Torak, my firstborn, has finally become a Shakran .”

The sound of Torak’s shallow breaths mingling with the crackling of the fire and the gazes of the three orcs so full of intensity and pride creates an atmosphere that is both raw and sacred. You don’t even dare to breathe as you lie there on the furs, your mind spinning and walls twitching around Torak’s softening cock as you stare at the scene in awe. Your wonder only intensifies as you catch your husband dipping a sharpened bone in a pot of ink and puncturing his son’s skin with it, skillfully etching a marking onto his chest. You’re not sure what the intricate lines mean but you’ve seen identical marks on your husband’s chest and you can definitely tell how significant they are. Torak’s passive reaction to the puncturing is also worthy of notice; he maintains his attention on his father and keeps his muscles from twitching despite the droplets of purplish blood rolling down his thick green skin.

Once the marking is completed, Mauhul gives his son a final proud nod. You can feel his seed leaking out of your walls, as well as the humid air meeting your wet folds, as Torak slowly detaches from you, but not before smiling down at you and whispering, "Raak ut, ishtà-kurme."

You've been with the clan long enough to grow familiar with the way the orcs express their gratitude, although perhaps not long enough to understand what the term 'kurme' means. Now, however, there is no time to dwell on translations because, while one son has completed his rite, another has yet to go through the passage. And so, everyone's attention is drawn to the youngest, who has been patiently waiting, in reverent silence, for his turn.

As soon as Torak pulls away from you, leaving behind a trail of your combined fluids, Moth steps closer to take his place between your legs.

Leaning back on his heels, his large hand finding your hair, Mauhul allows his eyes to roam over the youngest orc. He’s not particularly large like Torak, but he carries a strength in himself, an aura of determination. The same determination that was in Mauhul when he became an adult, years ago. Even you can notice the uncanny resemblance between the two now that Moth is so close. Both of his boys resemble your spouse in more ways than one, but the youngest exudes the same calmness and tenderness that Mauhul has. The way his palm reaches for your face to gently wipe a stray tear from your cheek - a tear you had no idea you shed - and his kind eyes smile down at you as if he's the one supposed to reassure you only serve to reinforce your impressions.

You’re so lost in his dark eyes, marvelling at just how much his gaze resembles that of your beloved Mauhul that you barely manage to catch a glimpse of brownish freckles scattered across his throbbing length before he rubs its head along your slit and gently but firmly pushes inside, eliciting a soft gasp out of your lips. He feels larger than his sibling as he stretches your walls. The wet sound of flesh slapping against flesh soon fills the room again as Moth picks up the tempo, his pace much more controlled and steadier than Torak’s. One would almost think this was not his first time, although watching his father first and his brother second must have given him enough visual clues to know what to do. Soft whimpers fall from your lips as your body is rocked by his thrusts, your heavy-lidded eyes unwavering from the youngest's face.

“Strong, steady strokes,” Mauhul advises softly, his voice carrying an air of approval. He feels a surge of pride swell in his chest seeing how Moth seems to have taken in everything, moving with such control and purpose. It reminds him of himself, years ago, determined to make the most of this rite, eager to prove his worth. He runs a comforting hand over your sweat-drenched hair, noting the exhaustion etched on your face but also the satisfaction shining in your eyes.

Moth nods, acknowledging his father's words without breaking the rhythm. Yet, it's clear that he needs no prompting, every thrust a deliberate caress designed to elicit moans both from you and him. His hands cup the soft mounds of your breasts, thumbs teasing your hardened nipples, adding to the rousing sensation. Each stroke sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through your body, causing your walls to clench tighter around him.

“...You're doing well, my son.” Mauhul praises him, his massive hand slides possessively over your stomach, feeling the tremors beneath his palm as you respond to Moth's attention.

Your eyes meet the dark pools of your husband's, and even through the haze, the exhaustion, and yet another orgasm brewing in your belly, you find yourself smiling up at him, searching for his touch with your smaller hand, his name falling from your lips in a hushed plea.

The sound of his name rolling off your tongue causes something to stir deep within Mauhul. A warmth spreads across his chest, mingling with pride and love, a blend that makes his heart throb painfully. “My beautiful kisem… ” he murmurs, leaning down to capture your lips in a tender kiss. Meanwhile, the rhythm between you and Moth grows more frantic, your hips rolling lazily to meet each of his powerful thrusts. Your body moves of its own accord, responding naturally to the sensations flooding through you. You're teetering on the edge once again, the pressure building in your core threatening to burst forth at any moment.

Moth’s fingers meet your swollen bundle of nerves, interrupting the kiss by eliciting a loud whimper from your lips. Your hooded eyes meet Moth’s again, his gaze locked onto your face, eager to capture your every reaction, ready to change his actions accordingly.

You only have the force to rest your free hand upon his - the one still squeezing your breast - and nod meekly in approval before you drop your head back, resting it on your husband’s thigh. Every nerve of your body is awake and on fire, your muscles tensing, your thighs twitching at every stroke of his cock and flick of his finger against your clit, your face contorting in pleasure as one more orgasm rapidly approaches.

Mauhul’s hand caresses your hair, providing a grounding presence amidst the storm of sensations overwhelming you. The sight of you losing yourself to pleasure over and over again is intoxicating, he’s already grown addicted to it and he can't wait to witness it every day from this moment forward.

Moth seems to sense your impending climax, his movements becoming erratic as he chases after his own. His strokes grow shorter and more insistent, his fingers rubbing tight circles around your sensitive nub. With a final, deep thrust and a low grunt, he buries himself to the hilt inside you, holding still as he unleashes ropes of cum into your channel. He doesn’t stop pleasuring you though, even as he reaches his first release. Only a few moments later your back arches and a strangled cry tears from your throat as ecstasy crashes over you in waves.

Mauhul watches in awe as you shatter apart, your entire body trembling and writhing against his and his son’s. Pride swells in his chest at the sight of his youngest son bringing his wife to such heights of pleasure. He leans down to scoop you into his arms, cradling you against his broad chest. "You did wonderfully, my love," he praises softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple, his tusks grazing your sweaty skin.

His gaze shifts to Moth, who is withdrawing from your quivering body, a satisfied smirk playing about his lips. "It seems my young warrior has inherited his father's prowess in the art of lovemaking." he announces with a smug, then looks at Torak and adds, “Both of my young warriors. You have made me very proud.”

His look then turns solemn once more as he fixes his dark eyes on his youngest son and declares: “Let it be known that Moth, my secondborn, has finally become a Shakran .” And just as he did for Torak before, he grabs the bone from the floor, dips it in the pot of ink and brings it to his son’s heaving chest. Mauhul presses his other palm on his skin and looks at him with affection and reassurance as his son’s body gradually eases its tremors. Only then does he start to mark his skin with the same intricate lines as earlier. Even through your droopy lids, you can’t help but reverently watch as your husband’s hand makes quick work of the tattoo. Your tired eyes rake over the young orc’s skin, rising to his face. He’s calm even now, a perfect picture of serenity, which deeply amazes you. He too, just like his brother has done before, moves his gaze back to you and smiles as he whispers the same orcish words with a devotion that makes your still racing heart miss a beat. You cling to your husband’s side as you nod at his son, acknowledging his words despite not fully understanding their meaning, already thinking of inquiring about them to Mauhul later.

With the completion of the ritual, Mauhul sets the bone aside and pulls you closer, his embrace enveloping you completely. As he rests his chin atop your head, his voice booms out, filling the room with a mix of pride and love.

“You've earned your rightful place among our adults,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “Today, you became true Shakran’z - protectors, providers, and lovers. May these marks serve as a reminder of your role in our tribe. When the time comes, you’ll carry on our line of truebloods by providing your seed to the clan’s zàgartha but you will also take wives and repopulate our tribe with strong warriors, children of the bond you will build with your drùda’z.”

Mauhul's gaze drifts to you, looking exhausted but content in his embrace. He brushes a strand of sweat-dampened hair from your forehead, his thumb tracing the curve of your cheekbone.

“Tomorrow we will celebrate. Now… you may go.” he dismisses his sons in a whisper, without taking his eyes away from you.

He wraps his massive arms around your tiny frame protectively, holding you close against him. The warmth emanating from his large body envelops you in its cocoon-like embrace as he cradles you.

You struggle to keep your eyes open, feeling too spent, drained of all your forces after the physically straining rite you've taken part in, your body still buzzing from the intense series of orgasms you've just experienced. Your sweaty forehead rests on his chest, your frame sagged against his muscular torso.

"Mau?" you meekly call out for him. Your droopy eyes lock onto his, your fingers lazily drawing patterns on his broad chest. You wait for him to hum back before speaking again.

"Your sons have called me… 'kurme'," you point out, curiosity twinkling in your tired eyes. "What does that mean?"

A deep, rumbling chuckle escapes Mauhul's chest, resonating through your frame pressed against him. He looks down at you adoringly, his expression softening at the adorable sight you present - so exhausted yet curious like a mouse. His broad hand strokes slowly down your back in soothing circles as he responds.

“That is the orcish word for mother,” he explains in hushed tones, his dark eyes beaming down at you. “However, they have not simply called you mother but ‘ishtà-kurme’. Guiding mother. The mother who lights the path.” His thumb draws idle figures on your bare shoulder. The gentle motion seems to ease your strained, tender body.

“In our culture,” he starts again, his deep voice growing serious. “It's a term of utmost reverence and devotion. To a Shakran orc, the ishtà-kurme is someone held dear and sacred. They have shown you immense respect by calling you that, my love. They will hold you in high regard for their whole lives for what you have done for them today… and for all the things they will learn from you in the days ahead.”

Slowly he lifts his hand, cradling your delicate face gently within the expanse of his huge, calloused palm. He lowers his roughened lips against yours, capturing them in a tender kiss, conveying a wealth of emotion that words cannot match. “You became their yazàkurme , chosen mother, the moment I took you as my kisem… ”, he pauses as a fond smile curls up his lips, his black eyes sparkling as they reflect the warm glow of the fire. “My kisee -” he coos affectionately in a softer tone, making your stomach flutter. “My wife. And one day you’ll be kurme to our children.”

You sigh, feeling your heart swell with love. “Those are a lot of names…” you quip back with a soft huff of a chuckle, your tired eyes crinkling in both amusement and affection as they gaze lovingly up at him.

With a hearty laugh, Mauhul’s deep voice fills the room, echoing off the stone walls. His laughter fades into a soft hum as he gazes down at you, his eyes sparkling with undisguised adoration.

“Indeed, many names for one little human,” he muses aloud, a touch of pride evident in his voice. “But each one holds its weight in significance. For us orcs, titles matter. They define bonds, roles, and responsibilities.”

He releases your face, allowing his roughened hand to slide down your neck, coming to rest on the swell of your breast, just above your heart.

“You lost your name when you left your village to join us,” he whispers solemnly, his eyes flickering to his hand as his fingers splay over your soft flesh, feeling your heartbeat under his palm. “So we shall give you many, in return.” His eyes meet yours again, a genuine and fond smile blooming on his lips, one that causes your heart to stutter under his palm. “But one will always stand above all. And that is mìzaher. My mìzaah, that's what you are. My life companion, my only love.”

Your palm comes to rest on his cheek, softly cradling his face as you gaze deeply into his eyes, a faint veil of emotion blurring your vision as you return his adoring smile. You're physically drained, still a tad unsure of what has just occurred and what it all means for you, but one thing is certain: the overwhelming feeling of being loved, treasured, and protected that envelops you fully now as you rest in your beloved husband's arms. You wish for this feeling to last forever.

Mauhul leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a brief moment as he savours the gentle caress. When he opens them again, they shine with a depth of emotion you have rarely seen in another being - pure, unadulterated love.

"You need rest, mìzaah, and a bath," he murmurs, his voice a low rumble that vibrates against your palm. His eyes crinkle in amusement as he adds: "I can gift you more names tomorrow."

He shifts, carefully scooping you into his arms without breaking eye contact. Your legs wrap instinctively around his waist as he stands, cradling you against his broad chest.

“You can close your eyes. I’ll take good care of you.”

🪷. You can leave me a tip on ko-fi if you want to support me ♡

a.n.: any kind of feedback is highly appreciated! Let me know what you think pls 🥺

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ozzgin · 9 months ago

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Yandere! House Monster x Reader (II)

It’s officially a smutty sitcom: you, the oblivious gamer boyfriend, and the tentacle monster lurking in dark corners.

[First part]

Content: gender neutral reader, monster smut

Do monsters have a sense of humor? This creature seems to be greatly amused by the little "game" you've devised behind your boyfriend's back. Although you don't have much input in the affair, and most of the time you're merely a witness to the events unfolding before you (or in you).

First, there's the mild, inoffensive annoyances. "Babe, did you see my controller? I swear I left it on the couch". Some pranks are harder to swallow than others, such as the occasional lack of Internet. You know exactly when it happens, because you can hear your boyfriend's enraged shouts and rattles. It's always during important matches. No one knows why it happens. The repairmen who cross your threshold can only scratch their heads in confusion, confessing that nothing is out of the ordinary.

Then, the unfortunate coincidences. "How about we have some fun after my game?", the boyfriend will suggest with an anticipative grin. Alas, moments after he stands up, he is overwhelmed by a nauseous feeling. His stomach twirls and throbs, and he curses under his breath. "Some other time, perhaps", he concludes begrudgingly. You see, the creature is very possessive. The only thing that has saved your beloved partner from being torn to shreds already is his crassly comical obliviousness.

The mischief aimed towards the boyfriend is, however, a secondary source of entertainment. Nothing could ever come close to spending time with you. Yet another irony to this ridiculous situation: you haven't been caught yet, despite the rabid clinginess of the tentacled monster.

It just loves surprising you. For example, when you exhale dramatically at the end of the day, relaxing in the bathtub and enjoying your peace. Just as you hear an impatient knock on the door, you notice a familiar dark tendril slithering its way out of the water. You won't be leaving the bathroom anytime soon. "Did you steam yourself over there? You look like a lobster", the boyfriend will remark with a raised eyebrow upon seeing your panting, feverish face. "Y-yeah, I guess so." You limp outside, struggling to hold the towel around your body. Or more specifically, around the many marks left on your skin by hundreds of suckers.

In fact, its shamelessness reminds you of a poorly written erotic scenario, the likes you'd see on some adult website with a clickbait title. How would you name this current setup? You grip the edge of the table, pursing your lips to prevent any moans escaping your mouth. Your boyfriend is, once again, scrolling on his phone, indifferent to your presence. The water boiling on the stove drowns the wet, slippery sounds of the appendages pumping in and out of you underneath the table. “You might want to give it a stir in a moment, or it’ll overflow”, the boyfriend remarks without lifting his gaze. You mumble in agreement, slapping a hand over your mouth. You’re at your limit.

One may be tempted to ask, is this entity bound to its house? You pondered the same question until your recent IKEA visit. You and your boyfriend had been looking for a new wardrobe. "What do you think of this one?", you asked, closing the door and turning around. Your eyes scanned the empty model-bedroom. The jackass had wandered ahead without you. You sighed and were about to go find him, when a cold grip suddenly tightened around your wrist. You winced and snapped your head back. Thick tendrils had made their way out of the closet, tugging you to join them inside. So it can follow you around, you thought, climbing into the cramped space. Between the silent whines and breathy begging, an idea emerges from your dazed mind. New hypothetical video title: mercilessly molested in the IKEA store by monster partner.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere imagines #monster x reader #monster x human #monster boyfriend #tentacle monster #monster smut #terato #teratophillia #monster fucker

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year ago

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Sea Creature Reader is moved to a petting exhibit during the grace period right before their heats when they are most docile - the calm before the approaching storm. They sit quietly in their barred cage, chittering softly and sucking up the attention and treats guests and caretakers shower them with. Staff is instructed to immediately return them to their tank when they show signs of arousal, but how are they supposed to resists when their sweet baby guides their hands lower and looks up at them pleading with those big wet eyes. Sea Creature Reader uses all the vocabulary they've managed to pick up during attempts to teach them human language and general conversations as they cry out to anyone would will listen-

"...Hug.... Want.... Hurts... Open... Please.."

Their loyal caretakers are quick to unlock their cell and pull them into their arms come to find the "hug" the monster wanted involves dragging them into their cage and breeding them well past closing hours. Their caretaker babbles on about taking proper care of reader and their young, but the creature could hardly care less about their rambles as the sound of slapping skin all but drowns them out. Their caretaker proudly shows off their bite and claw marks to jealous coworkers the next day while the creature howls for more release they're sure to find sooner than later

#yandere oc #yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere x you #sea creature reader #yandere smut #monster reader

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yandere-sins · 1 month ago

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Monstober - Day 9: Folklore Creatures

Spin on "Little Red Riding Hood" anyone? What could be better than someone so obsessed with you, they simply want to eat you up?

Prompt: Folklore Creatures | Cautionary Tales // Truth // Naivity Warnings: Yandere, Violence (non-main character murder, Blood Mention, Implied Bullying of the reader (off-screen)), Topic of Jealousy, Posessiveness

"Love you, hun."

Pressing a gentle kiss to your head, your boyfriend got up, stretching his arms high over his head and popping his neck before he got to his feet with a sigh. "Where are you going? Do you really have to leave?" you mumbled, the disappointment unmistakably in your voice. It had been like this for weeks now, where you two spent a passionate night before he slipped out without a trace to find him all day.

"Mhm," he sighed, leaning down to you again to catch your lips once more. "You know how much it pains me, but I got to go before it's too late. Wouldn't want to awaken the monster in me, would you?"

He said it as if it was a challenge, and you giggled, thinking it was just another innuendo. "Wouldn't let me get out of bed, huh?"

"Oh, I'd gobble you up, darling."

Laughing, he stepped away, putting his shirt back on as he dipped into the bathroom of your small apartment real quick. The moment he disappeared from view, you couldn't help your expression from showing the disappointment and frustration you felt. It had been almost a month now, and you two never went out together in the daylight, never saw each other except when he picked you up for a night out in the club or came to watch a movie that was never finished.

It felt more like you were his friend-with-benefits—you didn't even know his last name.

As if you were the other one.

The thought made your blood boil. You weren't proud of it, but in a moment of jealous weakness, you had checked his phone, seeing countless messages where he told people how excited he was to hang out and make appointments with them while he never seemed to do the same for you. It didn't seem like he had another partner in his life, but how could you be sure when he played the role of the mysterious night visitor rather than your wholesome boyfriend?

Was he ashamed of you? Were you not good enough? Did he just keep you around for his entertainment? The questions plagued you as he never gave you a good answer. He wouldn't even entertain the discussions, only vowing that he loved you and his work was very important and took him all day.

So why was he meeting other people then?

There wasn't much time once he said his goodbyes, his kisses nothing short of loving and sweet. For a possible cheater, he was good at what he was doing. You only had a few seconds of self-doubt about what you were going to do before you were out of the door and hunting after him, long coat and sunglasses on in true stalker-fashion. It felt wrong, and you hated yourself for mistrusting him so much, but at the same time, you two were still practically strangers, knowing so little while still being so in love. A little craziness was inevitable, right?

However, as your boyfriend turned from the main street into the shady path leading to the central park of your town, you suddenly felt a sense of panic. What if you accidentally got involved with some shady fellow? What if this was a drug deal or worse? Why would someone need to go to a park in the middle of the night?

You had assumed he was leaving you alone every night to hook up with other people or go back to an unsuspecting partner, but as you gently brushed through the thicket, trying to stay out of the moonlight that would give away your presence, you suddenly weren't so sure anymore.

You could still see him as he walked further into the park. It should have been your sign to leave, get away while you could, and cut all contact... but you had already gotten this far. Following closely by hiding behind trees and the occasional park bench, you tracked him through the greenery. Once, he almost seemed to spot you, but you ducked into a bush just in time, regretting this move only when the thicket tore at the fabric of your coat, making unnecessary noise. Still, you managed to stay hidden, heart racing and always alert.

Eventually, your boyfriend sat on a park bench in front of a pond. Nothing much happened for the next few minutes, and you were about to call this mission off, seeing how relaxed he was. It was as if he simply enjoyed hanging out in the park at night like a semi-normal person would.

But footsteps crunching over the gravel made you cower lower, your eyes fixating on the person approaching. Your boyfriend lifted a hand in greeting, and the person sprinted forward, hood falling off her head, revealing a cruel sight.

Because you knew the woman your boyfriend was meeting.

Your bully.

Heart sinking into your stomach, you watched as she jumped into his arms, giggling as your boyfriend spun her around. The only reason for them to meet you could think of was that the two set you up, made you fall in love with him so they could laugh at you behind your back. It really broke your heart to watch them cuddle on the park bench, your boyfriend—ex-boyfriend—ruffling her hair.

You didn't want to stay to see this.

It was a good thing you found out, but with tears filling your eyes, you knew you had to leave before you were discovered or hurt yourself more by watching them. This trainwreck wasn't one you should have been observing, and it hurt enough that you wanted to never come out of your home again.

"You know, [Name]?" your boyfriend suddenly asked, the sound of your name on his tongue so bittersweet.

"Who? Oh..." your bully replied, thinking for a moment. "What about them? They are a loser, not worth your time."

"Is that so? Because they told me about you, lots of things."

"You're ruining the mood. Isn't it enough that I agreed to meet you here? It's so creepy! Did you know how they found quite a few bodies lately around this park? We should go clubbing or to a bar, why are we even here talking about some loser?"

Your bully let out a frustrated sigh, throwing her hair back over her shoulder before leaning close. "You know we never even kissed until now. Don't you think it's such a waste of those lovely lips to talk when we could make out instead?"

Letting out a dry laugh, he didn't seem flattered at all as she tried to avert the topic of you. Good, you thought, because you really weren't up to hearing about yourself from the bully and the traitor. Even so, you couldn't move. As if you were frozen to the spot.

"Good thing you mentioned that. I prefer not making my partner worried about whether I'm cheating or not."

"Partner?" your bully spat, scrunching up her nose, the ugliness of her expression matching her personality. "Don't tell me you're fucking with that. I thought you had better taste when you asked me out to dinner the last few times. Thought you'd appreciate beauty more--"

Her words were cut off as your boyfriend's hand wrapped around your throat. He brought her face closer to his, sounding more enraged than you had ever heard him before. "How dare you talk about them like that. They are perfect. Wonderful. Special. It's filth like you that needs to be taken out so my love can be happy."

The two rose from their seat, and you watched as your boyfriend seemingly effortlessly hoisted your bully into the air. Something felt off, and you couldn't look away as you watched the clothes on his body tearing apart, your bully struggling as his fingers stretched and wrapped around her neck completely. She let out mewls and gasps as she tried to kick him, tried to make him stop, but the horror was in both of your eyes as you watched your boyfriend transform.

Skin turned into fur, mouth into snout. His posture changed as his body grew taller, monstrous, into a beast. Part of you couldn't believe your own eyes as you watched him take on canine features as if you were in a movie, watching a werewolf transform, but by the way, your bully was struggling harder, unable to scream, you realized it was real, and she saw it too.

Horrified, you could only clasp your hands over your mouth, containing your shivers. Doggish years popped up from his head, twisting and turning towards your direction. You had to be quiet, undetected, or surely, you'd be the next prey of that monster. His snout opened, long, sharp teeth glistening in the moonlight, and you heard the gurgled scream of your bully before the beast pounced, biting between her neck and shoulder.

Your bully was still kicking and trying to break loose as blood gushed from the bite, her sounds turning into gurgles before everything quieted out, and she stopped moving. Even though your eyes were so wide open, you couldn't believe them at all, couldn't understand what just happened, only listening to the sound of fluids gushing out and dripping to the floor, bones breaking beneath the claws and massive jaw, and eventually, her body simply slipping from his grip, seemingly meaningless.

"[Name], [Name], [Name]. Isn't it so impolite to eavesdrop on others?" the monster suddenly grumbled. Its massive head swung in your direction, eyes scanning from one side of the thicket to the other before finally settling on you despite the greenery. "I didn't want you to find out like this. We could have talked about it some other time—like on a picnic!"

Putting his feet into motion, you were still completely frozen as you watched the creature march towards you. If this was a bad dream, now would have been a good moment to wake up. You two held the eye contact, even as you watched the grotesque features slowly turn back into a human, first the head, then arms.

"Well, it is your business, too, I'll admit. I've been doing this all of you. Was I not a good boy, taking care of all these mean people for you?"

Until now, you had never taken much notice of the people you disliked disappearing. If anything, you were glad they weren't around anymore. But now that he was pointing it out, a cold shudder ran down your spine, guilt overcoming you.

"They were in the way of your happiness, and I need a good meal every now and then. We both got something out of it, you sweet, sweet thing—look at you cowering. Are you scared? Of the big, bad wolf? What if I'm a nice wolf, will you come to me then? Don't worry, no one's going to hurt you, I'll take care of all that try."

Even with the words so sweetly murmured, you didn't dare move and fall for his promises. He was a fucking werewolf or any other kind of monster! But werewolf made the most sense. It also explained so much more, for example, how he knew exactly where you were. It only made you wonder if he knew all along. Let himself be exposed to you. Wanting for you to see this.

See him.

Now back in his human form, he reached into the bush, parting it aside to reveal your cowering form. His grin widened as he watched you trembling in fear from him, this... other side of him probably enjoying a primal thrill at the prey he had caught.

"What... what are you? You had those big ears-"

"-to hear your thrilling pulse, darling."

"And your eyes were-"

"-so I could spot you and make sure you'd not hurt yourself, sweetheart."

"A-And your mouth was... you know."

At this, he simply grinned, and you gulped down any other word. "Gobble you up," he said earlier that night. It had not just been a sexy innuendo.

"Are you... going to kill me, too?" you asked woefully, feeling like your fate had already been sealed.

"You? Now, now, who'd do such a thing."

Clicking his tongue at you as if you had just insulted him, your boyfriend stepped through the gap in the bush, crossing over into your hideout, destroying every safety this thicket had provided with his presence. He leaned down, picking you up with what you now knew was unnatural strength and holding your bridal style as he carried you back towards the pond. The moonlight shined down on you two, the reflection on the water's surface blinding you. But it wasn't enough to make you forget about the body that laid just below you.

"I'm glad you could make it here, though. I wanted to enjoy the full moon with you for so long, you know? But you did interrupt my meal, how are you going to make up for it?" he asked, not a hint of seriousness in his voice. As if this was all a game rather than the brutal reality you had only just learned about.

"I--" you sputtered, unable to answer that. Your mind kept coming back to realize you were the next best meal to have and served as if on a silver platter as he carried you.

"Juuust joking," your boyfriend laughed. "How about we go home and order some late-night food? I'm so hungry!"

Ignoring the dead body on the floor, he merely stepped over it, chatting about whether he wanted burger or tacos as if he hadn't just revealed himself to be a fairytale monster and killed someone.

"Or, you know, we could make this fun. You could run, and I could catch you, have a nibble of those sweet cheeks; how about it?"

You felt the blood drain from your face, and his grin diminished as he watched you cower into yourself, his grip tightening around as you grew tense. "Okay, too early, got it."

"You're really not going to kill me?"

"Nope. Can't. You're my mate. You're what all werewolves crave—what I crave. Your happiness is all that satisfies me."

"Then... you'll let me go if I want to?"

His expression turned into a frown, and he shook his head. "There are rules," he said factually. "I'll explain them to you someday. But basically, they don't allow us to tell people about our existence. If I let you go, you might tell someone and--"

"I won't! I promise! I'll take your secret to the grave, please!" you pleaded, and your boyfriend grimaced, looking unhappy at your determination.

"And even more importantly-" he continued, raising his voice threatingly to make you behave. "-they teach us to never let our mates go, as there won't be another one. And living without is torture for a werewolf."

"Never?" you whined softly, and the smile returned to his face. Now he looked almost completely back to normal, like the sweet boyfriend you fell in love with. But you couldn't ignore the wolf in a sheep's skin—not with the blood of your bully still clinging to his chest.

"Never," he assured you firmly, and you knew instinctively that he meant it.

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mayullla · 10 months ago

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Title: He took away his own kind.

Character(s): Kitune (Original Character) Summary: You were a weak yokai, one who was loved by your own followers and you loved them back. Unknown to you tho, a powerful yokai had taken an interest in you and want you to be his. Warnings/tags: Yandere Kitsune x Kitsune!reader(fem), yandere themes, drugging, non-con relationship, manipulation, 5k word count

You had always been a little kinder compared to the other kitsunes, a little more gentle with your followers and the people who believed in you. You were more docile compared to the more mischievous ones. You were a small yokai, recently born compared to those who lived hundreds of years. You had fewer followers than them, with no more than 100, most of them older. Maybe that was why you were more cautious, watching over them rather than teasing them.

You acted almost like a caretaker to them. You were a kitsune with one tail, still young in the eyes of other yokai, yet with just enough power to give a little relief in the lives of those who believed in you. But you didn't lose that mischievous part of yourself. While limited, you often teased the little boy, the son of a widow. You would appear in front of him, playing with him, only to disappear when the mother showed up.

You were the boy's friend, playing with him when he seemed lonely, showing him small things that you could do with magic. The brightening of his face always made you smile. You took care of the people who lived in a small village, and more often than not, they would leave you sweets or food that they made on the windowsill, which you often snacked on.

While yokai could appear in front of humans, they mainly changed their appearances when doing so, which was the same for you, as you hid your tail and ears while chatting with the elderly. You were known to be somewhat mysterious, yet many were still welcoming towards you.

Your personality was different for a kitsune. While you did have some personality traits, it would have still been obvious to any yokai that you were different. It was that personality that made you leave the village just for moments to follow and protect your followers. The child that you grew to care for so much was leaving as his mother wanted to make money in the city.

It was not the first time you had gone to the city, having followed many of your followers before out of curiosity, now mainly out of worry over them as they aged with white hair while you stayed the same.

The two of them planned on going to the city nearest to the village, a place you often visited compared to other places. You followed them, thinking that you would only stay for a moment to see if they reached to the destination safely and found a place to sleep. After a week of travel, they and you stepped into the gates of the city.

Unknown to you, shared eyes watched you from afar, already having noticed your little visit to the city where those served him.

He was the same as you, a kitsune but born longer than you and worshiped by the whole city. Living in the tallest building of the city, canine eyes watched you from far away as he licked his lips. His nine tails swayed softly as if excited and somewhat expectant, seeing you finally come back after what he thought was so long.

It was only by chance that you two had met a few years ago. He was sure that you had already forgotten, but for him, it was just so difficult to forget such a cute lady. Back when he had changed himself into a civilian, he remembered bumping into a lady at a corner of a small shop. You were in disguise too back then, yet for someone as powerful as him, it was easy to identify that you were not human but a yokai kitsune like him. A quick apology and both of you were on your way. He thought he would forget the young kitsune.

Till he saw you again, this time without a disguise yet hidden in the eyes of the humans, watching some travelers, an old couple that wanted to sell their harvest. Your eyes were watching them, both fox ears trained towards them while your tail lightly swayed side to side. On top of the roof of a building you sat, yet you were elegant and sophisticated yet unexpectedly innocent. You were not like what he had expected, though this was his first time actually seeing you, he had his expectations over his own kind after living for hundreds of years.

A lot of kitsunes lacked care over humans, having more selfish desires and thoughts. They thrived off entertainment like mischievous pranks or lust. They were mainly self-centered and greedy, thinking only for themselves. He was the same when he was younger, but as he continued to live, a lot of those interests started to dwindle as he had gotten bored of doing the same thing over and over again.

Instead of focusing on his greed, he created a city of his own that worships the ground he steps on. He had everything in his hands, yet even that quickly grew boring.

He was bored out of his mind, wondering what other entertainment he should search for as he continued to stay in the land. He watched you silently follow the couple, hopping on the roofs of the buildings and making soft taps on the bricks roofs with your wooden slippers.

He didn't follow you and didn't see you again for a few months. He had already forgotten about you as he stared down into the buildings from high up in his tower. He was still bored even after some entertainment with other yokai, wondering what to do, when he saw you again entering the gates. Invisible to the naked eyes of humans, you followed another person who came to the village to trade. The Kitsune had figured out that you had come here following those who believed in you, as many yokai disappear when no humans believe they are real.

Yet he still couldn't make sense of your decisions. Many choose to make more followers and believers, leaving those who already believe, if not with a little scare if they felt generous. Yet you would go out of your way to watch the people who followed you. Truthfully, he would find it dreadful to even think about following a human. They live such slow, boring lives, and it would be painful for him, who craves entertainment, to watch over a person like that.

Yet his eyes would not leave you, picking up a grape from the bowl and tossing it into his mouth. There were many yokais that came here, a place packed with people. While they could stay as long as they didn't cause any huge problems, he personally didn't care much for what they did. The more he watched, the more he realized that he could not help but stare at your eyes. He had met quite a few kitsunes in the past, and many younger kitsunes most of the time didn't really know what they were doing, often showing in their eyes that they were without a goal, while others were mainly obsessed with material things or fame.

Your eyes were different. If he had to pick a word, it would be cute. Your eyes held so much affection towards your followers, caring and concern for their well-being. It was both amusing and entertaining to him that he could not help but watch.

Over the years, he would look forward to your visits. Your cautious eyes, when you finally noticed someone watching, made him excited as he watched you look left and right, wondering. He found your affection wanting, the attention you give towards those you like. He wanted your attention, wanting no more than to tease you some days, wondering how you would react if someone were to take away the people you give all your care to.

Yet his tails could not help but stop for a moment as he watched you. Your ears down nearer to your head while your tail was down, almost as if saddened. There was a smile on your face, still with affectionate eyes, yet they were mixed in with sadness. He could just stare at you, for the first time he had ever seen your face express another emotion other than what was normally seen. Your lovely face as you waved goodbye at the little boy who just for a moment looked back and saw you. The smile that spread on his face as he raised his hand to wave at you.

"Bye bye!!"

His mother had asked him who he was waving at, but the boy didn't answer, instead grinning at her.

As you watched them go, unable to follow them for fear you would not be able to leave if you did so, you stayed still for a moment. When you could not see them in the crowds of people, you took a step back and walked the opposite road, completely unaware of how lustful someone was looking at you.

He adored you. He adored you so much. His precious little tempting fox. Your little saddened face was just so delicious in his eyes, far more compared to your startled expression when you watched one of your older friends suddenly trip on a rock. It drove him insane how cute you were.

He had to have you. He would drag you back to his home and keep you with him like a little wife pet. Your innocence compared to his hundreds of years of knowledge would make it so easy to keep you in his arms, even if you tried to escape. Your crying face would be a delight to see. He wanted to see it. Nothing could get him more aroused than your own tears. He watched you leave, moving when he could not see you anymore, his heart beating like crazy as he continued to think about your lovely innocent expressions, all belonging to him. Touching his face with his cold hand, his long nails lightly digging into his cheeks, he felt how warm they were.

It was soon that you reached your village. The villagers greeted you with smiles on their faces as you tried to greet them back. But it seemed that your sadness may have showed when a grandmother patted you on the back. "There, there, child. You shouldn't be so sad." The grandmother explained that people come and go in the village due to its small inhabitance. "The little boy will remember you and come back one day. But for now, focus on the present. I heard from a friend that you don't have a lover yet! You are a very beautiful soul; you should be searching for one now! Otherwise, it will be too late to have a child of your own!"

“Have a little boy just like that kid, you could adore.”

The grandmother gave more words of comfort, even though you were older than her by a few years, and some of her words were a little much. Even if you were older, you could not help but flush at her words, causing her to laugh.

"Hahaha, you remind me so much of my old friend. We were friends at such a young age, yet she had to move away after I got married. Even she was someone easy to fluster like you." The grandmother told you with a wide smile on her face. "Unfortunately, it is quite difficult to keep in touch, so I don't know how she is doing now, but I hope she is doing well."

You couldn't help but smile at the old lady who was reminiscing about the past. "I think she is doing fine for herself," you said with confidence, which made the grandmother look at you in surprise but burst out laughing again. "She probably is. Probably found someone nice and living her life with 10 kids of her own and 20 grandkids." "I- I am not su-" "Nah, she is too pretty for her own good and has always been the type to care for others. I doubt that the man could not help but give a few more." The old woman cackled again at her own joke as she walked away, waving at you and stating that she had some rice cakes that you and her should eat.

It took some time, the lack of that boyish sound left a hole in your heart, but like any other time, you knew you would heal. Watching over the houses, you noticed some carts coming into the village. Fancy transport carriages; you thought there was someone important visiting here. You couldn't help but become curious as you stepped down to the grassy floor, changing to your disguise as you hid your ears and tail, and drew closer to the stopped carriage. Curiously looking at the servants talking with the mayor of the village, for what you could gather, they seemed to wish to stay here just for a few nights.

The mayor was unsure about the whole situation, as not only was this sudden due to how fancy the carriage was, he wasn't sure if the village had the means to serve the guest, but the servant reassured them that they don't need to do anything.

Walking up to one of the villagers, you asked what was going on. "Ehhh, just some rich man wanting to stay here for a while. Probably a break from traveling, but really it is just too sudden," an uncle answered your question, crossing his hands as he looked judgmentally at the cart when it suddenly opened.

From the cart walked out a very handsome man. Tall with a lean figure and a bit of muscle. He had a smile on his mouth as he walked toward the mayor. "Please do not worry about the service. I know we had come without any prior notice," his voice was deep and velvet as he continued to talk, his narrow eyes staring kindly at the mayor. Even with a smile on his face, there was something intimidating about him. You watched quietly, wondering if this was really okay, but without causing any trouble to anyone here, you couldn't do much.

Silently, you watched the mayor and the travelers go, the old man taking them away to a place where they could rest, leaving behind whispers between the people.

While most didn't care much for the arrived guest and his servants, many of the younger ladies were extremely excited when they saw his face. They talked among themselves about how handsome he was, wondered if he was married, and daydreamed about being picked up by such a man. You didn't care much for such topics. Turning on your heel, you left, deeming that there should not be any problem here. Planning on going back, you stopped and turned around, your eyes widening in caution.

You felt someone watching you.

You turned left and right, searching for them, wondering if it was a yokai that was looking at you, yet you could not find one that had a stare that made your back so heavy and raised the fur on your tail so badly. It wasn't the first time either. Many times you felt that stare when you were in the city, yet you never seemed to find the reason why or from whom it was coming. You thought that here you would not have to experience this, that in your safe haven, unlike the city, you would be able to avoid it.

But you could find nothing, and almost everyone except for the chatting girls was all gone, busy with their own days...

A day passed since those people came. You chose not to bother with them after sneaking in last night to check on them, wondering if they were really good people. As you watched them interact with the head in a kind manner, you decided to leave them be.

On your own, you chose to take on your human form as you watched the villagers care for the fields. Taking a seat on top of a branch of a tall tree in the mountain, you watched from afar. After the boy had left, you had become too bored, feeling solemn, mainly as the child who you were close to had to leave.

You knew that it was bound to happen, yet you could not help but miss the boy. The smaller yokais told you to just take the boy, take him away from the world and to the yokai one and keep him for yourself forever. But not once did you entertain that thought; the idea of taking the boy's life away was horrible in your eyes. His mother was also someone you held affection towards, a kind lady who had invited you to her home many times in the past, even when they barely had much to eat.

You wanted the little one to stay, but you also knew that you could not trap him, yet your heart was sad.

"Hello, there." Your tails and ears almost poofed into view at the voice, your body raising up from its relaxed position as you looked at the back. Under the tree on the side was a man alone, looking at you with a smile on his face. "Ah... sorry, I didn't mean to startle you like that." He looked amused due to your reaction. You tilted your head in wonder as you looked at the man, recognizing him from yesterday as he and his entourage had chosen to stay in the village for a few days.

"Did I scare you?" He asked, raising a brow. You narrowed your eyes a little at him but chose to nod. It wasn't like you could even deny it. "Don't you know it is rude to creep up on someone like that?" Your voice a little snappish as you tried to contain your annoyance at the fact that your alone time had been taken away, and that you were also taken off guard.

Haha... Sorry, I will keep that in mind."

You examined him from head to toe, wearing a yukata and cleanly put, you could not help but stare at his face. His smile and his narrow eyes and sharp features made him look almost like a fox.

"What are you doing? Is the view from there nice?" he asked, and for a moment you thought about whether you should actually continue to talk to him. Not having the heart to decline as the man acted more from harmless mischievousness, you didn't push him away. Instead, you invited him up the tree.

He complimented the view of the place from the tree, stating that he mainly lived in the city, so it had been a long time since he last took the time to relax in the countryside. The topics you chatted between the two of you were mainly surface-level topics, nothing deep, yet hinting at reminiscing the past.

You almost felt seen by him. It was something hard to explain, yet because your lifespan was so much different than that of humans, there was a bit of a gap when it comes to understanding. They would never understand what you feel because they would never live that long.

You didn't count the time, yet as you noticed the sun now in a different position in the sky, you realized that you have been here for a few hours. "I must leave now," you told him, for it wasn't long until you have used a lot of your powers and need to change up.

A frown graced the lips of the man looked beautiful under the sunset. "Ah, that is such a shame. I was enjoying talking to you," he stated, and you could not help but feel the same. "How about we meet again here if you are not busy tomorrow?" He offered.

You looked at him, his smile still with its mischievousness, yet a hand reaching out as a kind gesture. You thought that it would be okay. The loneliness you had in your heart was stilled just for a moment after the boy and his mother left that you could not help it when your mouth and head moved, agreeing to meet him again here at the same time tomorrow.

You met him the next day, the same place. He was sitting on the same spot of the huge tree as he looked at you with a smile, offering tea. The rich flavor that coated your tongue was delicious. The man laughed at your face, teasing you when you asked him why he was laughing.

There was no tension in the air. Time flew too quickly when you became comfortable around him, able to open up your feelings when it usually takes a long time when it comes to others. Almost every day, you met him under that same tree.

"I see our young lady finally fell in love?" The grandmother chuckled when you choked on your tea at her words. Grinning like a cat when you looked embarrassed. "Finally, time you found someone who could take care of you."

"Please don't say that... we are mere... acquaintances," you said hesitantly, unable to call that person a friend nor anything more than that. The old lady laughed again, patting your shoulder. You knew that she understood your feelings but also wanted only the best for you.

"So we are acquaintances?" the voice was too low, too muffled to hear, even for your ears to hear as you glanced at him blinking. He laughed on the other side of the branch, stating that it was nothing.

"I am going to be leaving soon." His words made you snap your head at him, in shock, then realizing what you just did, tried to calm yourself. "Oh..." you said hesitantly, looking away from him. "That... that is unfortunate." You were a little saddened, to be honest, that he was leaving, but it was coming after all. The crew was only resting here and needed to leave at one point.

“Yeah..." He passed you a cup of tea that he had brought again to drink here. Taking the tea, you took a sip of it, yet the flavor wasn't as strong or vibrant as before, dulled by your own feelings as you watched the liquid ripple in your hands. "Some business that I need to get to," he told you as you took another sip of your tea, still feeling your throat parched.

"Oh..." You said again, unsure of what to say. He had told you that he was a merchant travelling and just happened to arrive here at some point.

"Hey..." his voice was hesitant, yet for a silent moment he took a deep breath. "Why... why don't you come with me?"

You looked at him, surprised by his words again. You saw how determined his eyes were as he looked at you. "Please... please come with me! I like you a lot, and I promise I will take care of you if you choose to follow me," the man said, leaning towards your branch with a hand on his heart. "I have a difficult time being around people sometimes outside things related to business, yet with you, I always have fun. You are kind and thoughtful, you care so much about the people here. It is heartwarming to listen. If you want me, I promise I will make you happy."

You leaned away, almost intimidated by his actions. "Huh...? What are you talking about?" You didn't understand at all what he was talking about.

"Please marry me," he told you, finally spilling the words after having a difficult time holding it in. "I will make you the happiest woman alive."

Staring at him and his proposal, you thought about the time for the past few days, the bond that you started to form with him. It was often that within a few days of knowing each other, people tend to marry here.

But words clogged your mouth, unable to leave. While you do treasure the time you spent with this man, the village that you lived in for much longer was still your priority because even if he did understand your feelings, the time you spent with people here had much more value to you.

"I-..." You wanted to decline. After all, you were also a kitsune, a different kind of species compared to him, a human. You wanted to say that when the world suddenly blurred. "I-..." You wanted to get the words out, but dizziness stopped you again.

You saw his eyes, the realization that you planned to reject him, you just needed to bring those words out. "That is…" You didn't know what happened, nor what had caused you to lose all your energy all of a sudden. When the world turned upside down, you felt the wind on your face as you fell from the branch.

How did you become like this?

You thought your sudden fall would hurt yet instead of reaching the grassy floor harshly, you were gently lowered into the arms of another. You tried to open your eyes, wondering who caught you, and saw a man with ears like yours holding you. He was far more handsome than the merchant, but had a more cunning look and a more wicked grin compared to the mischievous smile the merchant had.

You didn't know this person. Your eyes widened as you shoved him away, hopping away from his hold and distancing yourself from him. Your disguise cancelled away as you glared at the yokai, who was the same as you. When did he come so close? How did you not see him? Multiple questions went through your brain as you bared your claws at him. Counting his tails, you knew he was far stronger than you. If he was maybe a three-tail, maybe you would have a chance, but he was triple that.

“Who are you?” You demanded, wondering why he was in your territory.

“Got your little claws out, huh? I am hurt, dear, especially when we had so much fun together these past few days.” He raised his hands, showing that he meant no harm, but you didn't believe it at all, trying to stay away even as the thing in your system continued to cause you to be so tired. “I never met you,” you growled at him.

“Oh? How can you be so sure? I was right beside you, sitting on this tree this whole time.” He raised a brow, a mischievous grin on his lips that was too similar to a certain someone. Your eyes widened as you took a step back. How did you not notice? Why did you even let your guard down?

“You… you lied to me!?” you demanded an answer as the man shook his head, sighing as if your anger was nothing more than a child’s tantrums that he needed to care for. “You would not let me get close to you if I did show my real self,” he talked as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You didn't understand why he did that. Why would a nine tail kitsune take such an interest in you that he would pull a prank like this? But it seems that he was able to read your mind, crossing his arms, his golden eyes watching you. “I have taken an interest in you, my dear. The many years that I watched you visit my place has always been a delight for me, that when you didn't come, I could not help but be a little upset. But it is okay, I will always forgive you.” He took a step closer to you, watching you as you continued to lose strength. “Yet to only watch for so long has its limits, don't you think? When you are so adorable skipping around my own turf, don't you think it would be difficult for me not to get my hands on you? I just thought that maybe you would prefer something romantic.”

“I am hurt, dear, that you would still deny me like that when I went through all that trouble. But it is okay, I will forgive after we fix your habits a little at my shrine.” You growled at him, refusing to follow him, pushing yourself to even stand at this point. “Now, now, you shouldn't push yourself too much. The tea was drugged a little, something I made just for you if you had chosen to be a little naughty. Nothing dangerous, I assure you. All you have to do is just relax, and I will take you home.”

You tried to make a run for it, but your powers were restricted, and when your leg caught your own, you fell to your back. You could not catch yourself, as your energy continued to be sucked away from you. You thought that you would hit the floor again when a pair of arms caught you again. “Tch, tch, my little kit is so weak and clumsy when she is tired, hmm?”

He laughed, golden fox eyes staring at you. You felt something furry touch your cheek, moving your hair away from your face. “Don't worry, dear. I will help you learn how to use your powers well, and you will now be mine and mine alone.”

You tried to move your body, tried to push him away, but it was as if weights were placed on your body, preventing you from moving even just a little. You tried to stay awake, to make sense of all this, yet nothing seemed to work as sleep slowly took you away.

“Don't worry, my dear little fox. You will be my lovely mate, and I will take care of you from now on, okay?”

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