Orc Boyfriend: Ozren (complete)

Obresh hadn’t been a planned destination at all, it was simply the first place where you had just enough money to stop. You have saved and saved for years to get away from your hometown. You want to start fresh and simply live your life according to how you dictate rather than how others do. 

For the time being, you rent a room in a boarding house. The place is constantly filled with people, but they all seem to pretty much keep to themselves. The place is very nice, and the lady who runs it is extremely kind. You start saving again while staying there and working at a pub just down the road. It isn’t your first choice of employment, merely the easiest one to come by. The pub is fine during the day, which is when you try to work most. But you usually find yourself working shifts in the evenings, when it’s busiest. 

Obresh is an odd sort of place in that an Orc Tribe practically runs it. Because of this the town is kept safe, and conflicts that usually occur in other towns are frowned upon. The Orcs take care of domestic abuse and similar crimes with a firm hand. There is a price for this, though - once a season, the Orcs perform a reaping. They come into town, take a human off the street, and claim them as their mate. 

It sounds like a scary situation to you, but hopefully, it won’t be worrisome. You keep your head down, do your work, and try to stay out of anyone's way. So far it seems to be working, as you’ve not ruffled any feathers or caught anyone’s eye.

Like most pubs, you have your regulars. Some people are there every single day until dawn. Others come by a handful of times during the week, and some once a week at the same time every time. You are just getting to know everyone by name, which helps make work a little more comfortable.

One such regular comes in a few times a week, although since you started working, his once- or twice-a-week visits have become an every-other-day sort of thing. He’s an Orc, and a rough-looking one at that. Most Orcs are big and burly, but he is something else. 

Ozren is his name, and he works for the lumber mill. He often comes in bragging about the massive trees he cut down, or stumps he pulled from the ground with his bare hands. He is missing a finger on his right hand and has a wooden replacement, something he teases you with the first time you meet him. He has big hands, big enough that both can wrap around your thick frame and still meet behind you.

He has long, curly hair, which he is proud of. The dark locks are peppered with strands of silver and white. The wild, uncontrollable curls barely stay in a tie, and simply fight their way free. His smile is a bit crooked, as his tusks are different sizes. One is smaller, the other is bigger and crooked to the side. A childhood affliction, he says. 

You can hear him come laughing down the street, guffawing so much it makes his belly jiggle. At least he comes with his own warning alarm, you think to yourself. There is nothing particularly wrong with Ozren. He is loud, he likes a ruckus, but it is the way he pays attention to you that you aren’t too fond of. He always insists you wait on him, he talks to you all the time, and shows off. If you were a different sort you might have liked it.

“There’s my rose!” he drawls as you come into view. “Come over here and let me see that face a bit. Atta girl.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek. “Same as always, Ozren?”

“Look at ‘er, trying to rush me. I like a woman that can make up me mind.” He laughs, elbowing his friend beside him.

You fidget in place as you wait for him to confirm his order. “It’s going to be busy tonight,” you mumble. “What with the Reaping tomorrow.”

“Ah!” Ozren sighs. “That’s right, that is.” He holds his chin in his hand and gazes up wistfully at you. “Never done one of those personally.” He moves his jaw from side to side. “Never found a reason to. No right woman, you understand,” he chuckles. “Just happy living my days and working me ass off.”

“Then why have you still got it?” his friend jibes.

You smile slightly and nod. “You’d best order quickly. We expect to run out of ale tonight despite the stock.”

Ozren smiles up at you. “Taking care of old Ozren,” he chuckles. “Aye, bring us as much as you can carry. Ole’ Phobos here has plans for tomorrow, and we’re going to celebrate it!”

You bow your head. “I’ll be right with you.”

“Do hurry, my rose,” Ozren says. “As much as I enjoy watching you walk away, I prefer to see your lovely face.”

You bite down on your cheek again as you walk away. Going back to fetch the ale for the table, you take a few deep breaths as you try to calm yourself. You’re uncertain if Ozren is poking fun at you or not. But how could he not be? Part of the reason you left home was because you had become the butt of everyone’s joke. Always chubby, you were teased for most of your life. Now, you feel like Ozren is doing the same.

You gather your courage before returning to the table, placing down the pitchers of ale and their glasses along with a bowl full of dried, crusty bread tossed in herbs and spices. “Will that be all for now?” You force a chipper tone into your voice.

“For now, my rose,” Ozren says with a smile. “Thank you for all your hard work.”

You nod to him. “I’ll check in with you in a bit. Enjoy.” You start to walk away when Ozren taps your arm. “Wait a second,” he growls. He takes hold of your hand and places two pieces of gold in your palm. “I don’t care who orders. You keep our mugs full, and I’ll see you get two more before I go.”

You stare in bewilderment at the coins, then at him. “I knew you were daft, but not this much.”

Ozren grins from ear to ear, getting a look like an excited child. “I told ya, we gots reasons to celebrate tonight, we do!” He squeezes your hand so your fingers close over the gold coins. “I don’t like to ask for any sort of special treatment, my rose. But tonight is a different one. Make me special, won’t ya?”

Your guts squirm, but hell, money is money and you need all you can get. You bob your head to him. “You got it. You’re special, Ozren.”

“I could eat you up, I could,” Ozren laughs as he keeps hold of your hand. At last, he lets you go. “But roses ain’t for eating, are they?”

You force a laugh and make your escape, pocketing the gold coins in your blouse where they are snugly protected by your breasts. 

Throughout the evening, you keep your word to Ozren. He may make you nervous, but by making four gold coins in one night your savings could be close enough to get your own place. You keep Ozren and his friends full of drink and food, visiting their table throughout the night so their pitcher never runs dry.

As the pub begins to empty, Ozren is one of the few lingerers. You are getting ready to leave, exhausted from the busy night, but you decide to pay Ozren one last visit. He is singing to himself in his booth, seeming to enjoy the dull quiet around him.

You pat his shoulder. “Best you be heading on home,” you say gently. “It’s best one gets some sleep before the dawn comes.”

Ozren chuckles. “Oh, my rose,” he sighs. A bit of drool glistens on his lip. “Checking up on me, that’s nice, that is.”

You wonder if he’s too drunk to function. “Do you need help getting up?”

“When you’re around, my rose, I have no issues with that!” he chortles, then finishes off his mug of beer.

You grimace, unsure how to take that. “Yes, well, can you walk at all?”

Ozren grunts as he reaches into his pocket. “I’ll be fine, my rose.” He places three gold coins before you.

“That’s too much!” you gasp out loud.

“Nah, nah,” he burps. “You earned it.” He wobbles as he stands up and pats the top of your head. “Be safe out there today. Don’t let just anyone scoop you up.” He chuckles as he leaves, bracing against the door for a moment before he disappears outside.

You head home, tucking away your money before you go to bed. You wake up a little later than usual, and have to rush through your routine. You don’t have a chance to style your hair and tuck it away, so you leave it down around your face and shoulders. 

You come out onto the street just before the pub to see people lined up all along the sidewalks. Some are cheering and waving bouquets in the air. Applause and laughter rings through the streets as the bells of town hall begin to toll. The Reaping is happening!

You watch for a moment and see a herd of Orcs come walking up. Some already have humans tossed over their shoulders, and others are taking people right off the street. You frown a bit, fussing with your loose hair as the procession passes by you. You just want to cross the street and get to work.

A shadow passes over you. Looking up, you see Ozren approaching. You wonder if he’s come seeking that third gold coin. He grabs you, and his thick hands hold your hips firmly as he lifts you from the ground and places you over his shoulder.

Stunned into silence, you lay there staring off into the distance. Ozren carries you off with a laugh, taking you towards the woods.

“That’s my rose! Did exactly as I asked you to!” He seems to strut with pride. 

You gasp and wriggle a bit. “What are you doing?” You snap at him. “I have to go to work! Put me down.”

“Nuh-uh,” Ozren chortles. “I’m not setting you down until we’re home.”

Your mouth flops open like a landed trout’s. “Home?”

“I have it all nice and pretty for you, my rose,” Ozren grins. “I’ve been fixing the old place up. I even got us one of them nice big beds so I don’t suffocate you when we snuggle.”

“Snuggle?” you shout.

“Why so surprised?” Ozren asks, his chipper tone rising into confusion. “I thought I made myself clear this morning?”

“No!” you grunt, trying to wriggle away from his arm looped around your waist. “Put me down, right now!” You slap his meaty forearm. “I mean it!”

“Well, perfect timing, then.” Ozren places you down on the ground. “We’re home.”

You scowl as you look at the house, but that melts away when you truly take in the adorable stone cottage before you. Around it is a garden that has been neatly tended to, and a clothesline. The facade of the house is polished brown and golden stones, and the front door is painted green.

“Well!” Ozren puffs out his chest with pride. “What do you think?”

“Uh, well...” You shake your head and turn back towards him, still in disbelief. “I’m not sure. You reaped me?”

Ozren grins. “That I did! You’re my rose, after all!” He claps his hand down on your shoulder. “Come, now, let me give you a tour of our happy home.”

The front door opens into a kitchen and dining area. There is a fire going, and a cauldron suspended over the flames. 

“You won’t have to worry about anything today. I intend to take care of you until you get used to it all,” Ozren boasts. He shows you to a room with wide, cheery windows filling two walls. The sunlight pours in, making it warm and cozy. 

“Just made this,” he says. “Took me ages, too!” He walks in ahead of you to show you that the wall attached to the house is covered with shelves with sparse books on them. There’s also a wood stove. “Was told women enjoy special rooms like this. Thought you might like it!”

You look around in awe. “It certainly is nice,” you murmur. You still feel so uncertain. “I didn’t even realize you could make rooms like this.”

“I’ve been building houses since I was your size,” he winks. “I can build a house out of just about anything.” His hand moves to your back. “The next room is my favorite, though.”

He takes you through the house and into the bedroom. The bed takes up most of the space, but there’s a wardrobe on each side of the room. “I want to spend as much time here as possible!” Ozren laughs.

Every hair on your body bristles, and you move away from his hand. “This is all very nice.” Your voice trembles. “But I think I really need to go.”

Ozren cocks his brow. “Why would you need to go? This is your home.”

You twist and tangle your fingers in your hair. “It don’t think it’s right. It’s all very nice, really. But I just don’t think it’s right.”

Ozren scowls. “I made it for you.”

You duck your head down.

“I’ve been working hard to make this old place a home ever since I first laid eyes on you, my rose,” Ozren frowns. “If it’s not enough for ya, then I guess I ought to get back to work.”

You look up at him as he takes off his shirt and tosses it aside. “That’s not what-” You break off and look away from his bare chest.

“I’ll work off another finger if it needs to be that way,” Ozren says. “I won’t rest until you’re happy! That’s how this works.”

You bite down on your cheek.

“My rose will have everything she needs, and even some things she doesn’t.” Ozren places his palm on the top of your head. “Ozren keeps his promises, that he does.”

You push his hand aside. “You don’t need to do all that. Really. Ozren, it’s very nice, but-” The words catch in your chest, and you can’t bear to say them.

Ozren kneels before you with his hands on your shoulders. “What troubles you now?” His voice is tender and sweet. “You scared of me? Nothing to be scared of. I may look like a bully of a thing, but I roll over to get my belly petted like any dog.” He gently brushes a knuckle against your cheek. “Why, you’re probably tougher than old Ozren here. Bet you could take me down easily.”

You blink a few tears from your eyes, and Ozren’s whole expression and demeanor change. Everything about him seems to soften. His expression is pained as he moves closer to you. 

“Now, now, my rose,” he whimpers. “Don’t cry now. You’ll make me cry too with them… sad eyes and… rosy cheeks and… that cute little pout. No. No.” 

“I’m sorry,” you sniffle.

Ozren’s eyes have grown wet, and his breath shudders out of his chest. “Nothing for you to apologize about, my rose.” He swallows back his tears. “You tell me whats wrong. What’s causing all this?”

You shake your head. “I can’t say.”

“To me,” he pounds his fist against his chest, “you can!”

You shake your head, then bury your face in your hands. “I don’t deserve this!” you sob. “I don’t! You made a mistake.”

Ozren growls. “I make lots of mistakes, that I do. But I don’t think I could have possibly gummed this up.”

You rub your eyes. “I’m not worth all this. I’m just…” you hiccup, “I’m fat, and short, and I’m ugly.”

“You hold that tongue of yours!” Ozren whispers warningly. “You are a rose, my rose. You’re beautiful and delicate, lovely as a fresh peach.” He cups his palm around your cheek. “Who filled you with such ideas?”

“No, no.” You shake your head.

“What can I do to convince you?” he whispers. “I ain’t saying words to hear myself talk and I wouldn’t lie to you.” His thumb sweeps under your eye to move aside the tears. “My rose,” he purrs. “Not to be a crass lout, but the first time I saw you I had the dirtiest of thoughts. I thought about how wonderful that ass of yours would feel in my lap.”

You sputter, laughing despite your tears. “Oh, stop it.”

“I’m serious,” he grins. “I thought how plush those thighs of yours would feel against my ears.”

You giggle, covering your mouth with your hands.

“I bet your peach is plump and fuzzy,” Ozren grins. “But that’s something I’m willing to earn.” He dries your eyes. “Such tears do not suit your pretty face. I much prefer you smiling, my rose.”

“You’re very sweet,” you sniffle. “But are you sure?”

Ozren kisses your forehead. “More than anything, my rose.”

For the next few days, Ozren tries to prove himself to you. He cooks for you every day, and while his approach is basic, it’s wonderful to be taken care of. At night he gives you the bed, while he sleeps in the reading room. In the afternoons he goes to work, and when he comes back he always has something for you. Sometimes he brings flowers, and sometimes an object he’s carved from a scrap of wood at work. But what you enjoy the most is how happy he is to see you, and how happy you are when he is.

One day as he returns from work, you notice a bandage wrapped around his forearm and crusted with blood. In your shock, you drop everything and rush up to him on the path.

“What happened?” You grab his hand and look over his arm. “Are you okay?”

A smile appears on his face. “Nothing to worry about, my rose! ‘Tis simply an axe wound.”

“What?” you screech. “Axe wounds are not a ‘simply’! And this bandage was applied improperly! Get inside this instant!”

You get him inside and sit him down at the table. There, you take off the bandage and clean the wound. Luckily, it is not as horrible as thought, mainly messy. You clean him up, wash away the dried blood and apply a balm to the wound before wrapping it in clean bandages. Then you place a kiss on his knuckles.

“You know,” he purrs, “there is something you could do to make me feel better much faster.”

You chomp down on your cheek. “Oh, yeah?”

Ozren brushes his fingers along your cheek. “Just a small one.”

You close your eyes as he comes close, letting his lips touch yours. Your heart is hammering hard. and you find yourself pressing closer. You place your palms against his chest and his hand wraps around the small of your back.

“You sure you’re okay?” Your voice trembles as you pull away.

“I’ve had worse,” he chuckles. “You should see the scar on my thigh.”

You giggle as your cheeks blossom bright red. “A rather suggestive spot, don’t you think?” you smile.

“Aye,” he winks. “That ax tried to get right fresh with me.” His fingers knead at the small of your back. “How was your day?”

“Fine,” you murmur. “I made some fresh bread.”

“I told you not to cook until you...” he hesitates and his brow pinches, “got comfortable…”

“We had that leftover meat, so I thought some sandwiches would be nice.” You sit down in his lap. “Also, a bit easy. You’ve been working so hard.”

Ozren loses his breath for a moment. “I don’t mind.”

“I thought, maybe,” you murmur, “you’d like to rest before dinner.” You fidget with your hair. “Maybe lie down in bed for a bit.”

Ozren smirks at you. “In bed, you say?”

You nod. “The big one.”

Ozren kisses your temple and cheek. “I think I’d enjoy that.” 

You take his hand and lead him to the bedroom. You fluff up his pillow, which you took from where he slept in the reading room. Ozren sinks down onto the bed, and stretches out with a grunt and a few pops of his joints.

You crawl up beside him, laying down with your head on the pillow. “It was a little chilly today,” you murmur.

“It was,” Ozren rolls onto his side. “I’m pretty warm, though, if you’re cold.”

You adjust yourself, wondering if you should move closer. Then you scoot towards him, placing yourself in his arms. You snuggle against his chest, his soft belly, and his arm rests protectively around you.

“Now,” he sighs. “Isn’t this nice?”

“It is.” You brush your fingers down his chest, touching the thicket of dark curls. His scent is very masculine, and it does things to your mind. You press a kiss to his bare skin and Ozren lets out a low groan. You kiss him again to hear the pleased sound, and this time it’s followed by a laugh.

“Is it okay?” you ask timidly.

“More than okay, my rose,” Ozren grunts. “But if you keep going, I’ll be in all sorts of deep trouble.”

“What kind of trouble?” You press a kiss to his neck.

Ozren growls, and his hand moves over your rear. “Big, hard, kind of trouble. I wouldn’t want to scare you with it.”

You bite your lip. “That bad, huh?”

“Awful,” Ozren smirks. He kisses your temple. “So you best keep those lips to yourself for now.”

You press a kiss to his jaw, and his breath quivers again. “It’s okay,” you murmur.

Ozren’s hand firmly gropes your ass. “Is it?”

You gulp and nod. “Yeah.”

His strong fingers knead your legs, slowly hiking up your skirt. He finds purchase against bare skin, making you tremble slightly. 

“Mmm,” he groans, “very soft.” He pushes your skirt all the way up and palms your bare ass. Then he moves you, rolling you over and placing one of your thighs over his leg. His hands rub and massage your inner thighs as he growls directly into your ear. 

“Oh...” Your voice escapes in a tortured sigh. Ozren nuzzles your neck, growling as his fingers slip along your mound. He squeezes, and a nervous squeak leaves your lips.

“Your nectar is spilling already,” he says. “Juicy peach you are.” His fingers sink into your plump flesh, moving slightly so he actually presses inside you. “Oh, fuck,” he moans. “You’re perfect!”

You squeeze around him with nerves and bury your face against the pillows. His two fingers move inside you, gripped tight by your inner walls. He breathes into your ear as something hard grinds against your ass.

“That’s it,” he moans. “Just like that.”

You roll your hips to urge on his fingers, panting hard as you clutch at your own chest. His fingers are thick, stretching you just enough. He feels so good inside, so warm and snug. His fingers crook just right to hit something inside that turns your legs to pudding.

“This sweet, juicy peach,” he growls into your ear, “I don’t deserve it.”

You gulp and sigh, unable to think, let alone talk anymore. He drives his fingers in faster, and moves his other hand so a finger rubs against your clit. You spasm hard, nearly jerking away from his grasp. 

His tongue licks your neck and swirls in your ear. “You’re so lovely,” he purrs. “My perfect rose. Come for me.”

“No, I-” you whimper. Your breathing has become shallow, and your body moves of its own accord. You stretch, and your legs kick as an overwhelming pleasure washes over them. It suffocates you for a moment before you release a strangled cry. His fingers press hard inside you, releasing the powerful swell overtaking you.

There’s a slick pop as he removes from you. Ozren kisses you all over until his soaked fingers press against his tongue. Then he lays you on your back and removes your clothes. As you tremble from your orgasm, he kisses you all over - your breasts, your plump belly, your thick thighs. He licks your peach clean with a hungry growl.

“Ozren,” you mewl.

“I know.” He moves back up and kisses your cheek. “I’ll make you come whenever you need it. Seeing your writhe like that makes me a happy man.”

You meet his kiss, wrapping your arms around him. “What about you?”

“I’ll be fine,” he grunts. “I’ll jump in the river if need be.”

“That’s awful.” You reach for his pants, undoing the laces there.

Ozren tries to pull away. “Now, now,” he moans. “You ain’t gotta do a thing to me just because I did that.”

“I want to see how bad it is.” You pull out his cock and let it lay heavy on your thigh. He’s thick and hard, throbbing as he rubs against your soft skin. “Not that bad,” you purr. You wrap your fingers around the shaft and Ozren loses his breath.

“You sure?” he whimpers.

You say nothing. You simply wrap yourself around him. His cock slides against your slit, becoming wet with your nectar. He grunts, shivering as he kisses you. His hips buck, pushing hard before slipping up along your vulva. With a shaky hand he guides himself into you, pressing towards your opening until he pops into place. 

Ozren pushes deep, sitting up so he can see. He sucks in his belly to watch as your labia wrap around his shaft. He grunts, chomping down on his lip. He leans over you again, grinding inside you as he holds his breath. 

Inside, his girth opens you, stretching you more than his fingers, and the feeling overtakes you. You sigh and gasp as he moves, loving it when he goes deepest inside. You can feel his balls slap against you too, something that makes you giggle for a brief moment. 

As he moves more, you start to get swept under again. You cry out and grab hold of him, locking your legs around his waist. You know he’s not going anywhere, but you are making doubly sure. Ozren kisses you hungrily, thrusting himself inside. His moans become lower, and his hips jerk forcefully.

You tremble, dragging your nails down his back as yours arches. You cry out, and he roars. Deep inside there is a heat that overtakes you. You lose your breath and melt away into nothing. You quiver all over, basking in the wonderful glow that envelopes you. 

After a few moments, Ozren props himself up. “You alright?”

You nod silently. 

Ozren chuckles and kisses you. “My rose,” he purrs, “you’re a blessing.”

You meet his kiss a bit lazily. “My head is still swimming,” you sigh. “What on earth did you do to me?”

“Something good. Something I’ll do as often as I possibly can for you.” He slowly pulls away and flops down on the bed beside you. “I’m yours forever now.”

You curl up against him and lay your head on his chest. “You mean it?”

He rubs his hand up and down your back. “My beautiful rose,” he laughs, “you know I do.”