Orctober, day 22: Hair + Mating customs
Male orc x female reader
SFW but suggestive: wedding night, reference to oral (f), hair pulling and brushing, monster mating and marriage rituals, romantic fluff
To an orc, nothing held more intimacy and hidden passion than hair.
You, a human, did not fully understand this until your wedding night, when you gave your new orc husband a fine green jade comb as a mating and wedding gift. The expression on his face was remarkable—his mouth dropped open and eyes shone with tears, the look of tender joy so incongruous with the blunt angles of his rugged features.
He was struck with even more emotion when you used it on him that night. As his wife and mate, you had become the only person who was permitted to see and touch his hair this way. “No one has seen my hair unbraided since I was a child,” he told you, his voice shaking, as your fingers carefully pulled apart the plait. Once all of it was free, hanging in pitch black waves halfway down his back, you used the gift to comb it, slow and careful, while a low hum of pleasure rumbled in his throat.
His sister had explained all this to you before you were married, since you had no orc mother yourself to do so. To orcs, hair was a symbol of strength, so to see it unbound was a token of deep intimacy, and brushing another’s hair a deeply intimate act, demonstrating your willingness to serve your mate.
When you had finished combing, he turned to you, and his eyes were shining even brighter now, sparkling with gratitude and excitement. You ran your hands over the thick, smooth strands that fanned out over his broad shoulders. “You look exceedingly handsome and strong with your hair unbraided, husband,” you told him, and the compliment pleased him greatly, for he swiftly captured your lips to kiss you with unbridled fervor, his tusks pressing into your cheeks.
Before anything could progress further, however, it was his turn to serve you by caring for your hair. You had no braid for him to unbind, but he had never seen your hair down, making it thrilling to let him pull out each pin as it tumbled from atop your head piece by piece, until it too was hanging down your back, and he too was combing it with reverence.
When he took you that night, both of you had your hair unbound, flying about as you moved vigorously, then sticking down against your skin as it became slick with sweat. It thrilled you to see your monstrous husband looking so truly wild, and he felt the same about you, his little human gone feral, which bolstered his stamina for several hours.
You both fell asleep without cleaning up, hair left in a disarray that signified your unfettered ardor for each other. When you opened your eyes in the morning, it was to the sight of your orc husband already awake, gazing at his hands, where he was twisting a piece of your hair around his meaty finger, the strands’ color and sheen contrasting so starkly with his gray-green skin. “I’ve admired your hair since I met you,” he murmured. “I didn’t dare to dream that I would one day be permitted to touch something so beautiful and precious.”
He kissed the coil of it around his finger, then kissed your lips, and when his mouth next ended up between your thighs, he directed you to hold onto the ends of his long hair and pull on the two ropes of it like reins. His eyes rolled back into his head when you did so, and he repaid you handsomely for the pleasure you gave him.
After you had cleaned yourselves, you both repeated the combing ritual, in reverse. This time, it was taming chaos, smoothing away the wildness, putting yourselves back in order, a symbolic control over the raw passion that only the two of you can see from each other, behind closed doors.
You were responsible for dressing each other’s hair as well. For him, you worked his hair back into a braid, but wove green beads into it, signifying that he was now married and mated. He pulled his braid over his shoulder to look at it when you were done, running his blunt, calloused fingertip tenderly over the shining beads with a broad smile curving around his tusks.
For you, he also braided your hair with the green beads, and then you showed him how to coil and pin it into a chignon. He finished it with the wedding gift he had given you, a long, gleaming, copper hair pin topped with a moss-green peridot gemstone.
“The only thing that could make your hair more beautiful now,” he said, “was if we were blessed to adorn it with blue and yellow beads as well.” In orc tradition, blue beads were added for daughters, yellow for sons, and both highly treasured. “But there is no rush for that, and until then, I shall cherish the sight of these, my wife.” His hand slipped back from your cheek to pet over your chignon, tiptoeing his fingers across the green beads.
“Are you allowed to touch my hair, or me yours, when we are in the company of others?”
“Certainly not.” The very idea was shocking; for an orc, it wasn’t as forbidden as seeing hair unbound, but touching another’s hair at all was still a deeply intimate act, requiring privacy, even when done innocently.
“Very well. Then I shall have to get one last touch.” You ran your hand down his thick black braid, where it still lay draped over his shoulder, and when you got to the end of it, gave it a sharp tug. “There!”
He let out a surprised, guttural sound that was far more animalistic than gentlemanly. His amber eyes flashed a tantalizing warning at you. “If you’re not careful, I will have to take your hair all down again, wife, and see how well you like it when I pull yours.”
You liked it quite a bit.
~ 😈🎩 ~
I wouldn’t say I have a hair kink, but I do enjoy thinking about the intimacy of hair. If you liked this ficlet, you might also like my Beast/Belle fic that is completely focused on hair in terms of affection, intimacy, romance, and sex.
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