For the Mermay requests, can I please request a story where the merfolk community and human community must intermarry for political reasons? Are there social customs each have to adapt to?
I loved this request! I didn't do much with the social customs aspect but leaned into the political angle for the worldbuilding.
Male merman x female human
Arranged marriage || Regency era || NSFW: 2 🍆, 1 p in v 🍆, creampie 💦, fingering 👆, oral (f receiving) 👅, breast play 🍈, mild breeding kink 👶, pregnancy 🤰, mentions of war and military conscription, angst || 3.3k words (14-minute read time)
🧜♂️
Pairing humans with merfolk was a mutually beneficial arrangement: the merfolk gained the protection of the English Navy, and the English gained half-breeds to use in their wars. Everyone knew that half-breeds were superior to full-bloods of either species. A half merfolk had legs to walk on land, giving them more mobility and versatility, but could still swim faster than any human, could breathe and see underwater, and was considerably stronger than either race. By the time of the war with Napoleon, the crew of every English Naval ship had a large contingent of merfolk half-breeds.
Knowing that it was beneficial to their countries did not make this particular merman and his new human wife any happier to have been forced together, however. For the first few days of their arranged marriage, they spent no time together in the house the Crown had provided for them to live in, carved into the cliffside. When the tide was out, the woman left the house to visit with other humans in the village, and before the tide returned to fill in the front of the house, she dutifully returned to her new home, but her merman husband did not come in with the tide.
She was beginning to think he must have simply abandoned her when he finally returned after nearly a week's absence. He stuck his head out of the pool at the base of the parlor. The woman, standing atop the dry platform, folded her arms and scowled down at him. “So you have finally come home.”
He sneered. “This is not my home. This is a prison constructed by your king.”
She rolled her eyes. “Your king was just as complicit in this arrangement, not to mention your own parents.”
“I would thank you not to remind me of that fact,” he said irritably, flicking his tail under the water with enough vehemence to splash water on his head, which was covered in rows of thin blue braids.
“But have you finally decided to do your duty?”
His lip curled as he looked her over. “I thought we should get it over with.”
She kept her face hardened against him, unwilling to show him how much that sentiment hurt. “Very well. I will go prepare.”
The woman slipped into the bedroom at the back of the house, and emerged a few minutes later in only a chemise. She did not hesitate to step down into the pool and settle herself on the underwater ledge. The water was warm, heated by underwater springs that the merfolk had engineered into each of the cliffside houses, but she felt no warmth for her husband. “Get it over with, then,” she said.
The merman scowled. He didn't want to mate with her, but he wasn't going to hurt the little thing. “That is not how it is done.”
“Those were your words,” she pointed out.
“I meant—ugh, never mind. The point is, I need to ready you.”
“Do whatever you must,” she said, closing her eyes, waiting for him to take her despite his talk about readying her.
But his hands were gentle as they settled on her waist, his thumbs tracing circles on her clothed belly. “First, I must get you wet,” he said in a low voice.
“I'm in the water; I cannot be any more wet.”
He snorted. “Yes, you can.”
His hands shifted, pulling up her chemise just enough to reach under it. They stroked up the soft skin of her thighs, making her shiver, then nudged at her mound. She couldn't help the small gasp that escaped her lips, and had to bite down to prevent a second one when his fingers parted her folds and slipped inside. He rubbed up and down her slit tenderly, then pressed harder at the top, a spot that sent heat shooting out from her cunt into her belly and limbs.
She gripped tighter to the ledge, and without meaning to, started to rock her hips into his hand. His finger dipped lower, pressing gently to her entrance. “Have you ever put your fingers inside yourself?” he murmured.
“I…I…y-yes,” she stammered without opening her eyes.
“Good,” he said, and slowly pushed his finger inside.
She moaned as it filled her, and it felt ever better when he started to slide it out and in, again and again. When he added a second finger, she hummed in approval, and shifted her hips forward to draw it deeper.
“I think you are ready,” he said a few moments later, and withdrew his fingers.
She opened her eyes then, and was shocked to see how different he looked. His skin, which before had been a pale blue-green, was now flushed to a rich indigo. The fins that had laid mostly flat against his neck and back now stood up rigidly. His normally milky blue eyes were now heavy-lidded and glowed almost purple, but he did not meet her gaze with his own. He kept his eyes averted from her face as he took hold of her hips and tugged her forward on the ledge.
She looked down between them to another shock, the sight of his erect member. Or, rather, members, plural, because there were two purple shafts emerging from a puffy slit in his tail, one curving upwards, the other jutting straight forward toward her sex. She could not look away as he aligned this one with her hole and began to slowly ease it forward.
Her lips parted for him, spreading wide for his inhuman girth, straining open around him, and though the pressure was intense, there was no actual pain. Still, she groaned as he sunk into her cunt, and he raised his head to look in the direction of her ear, rather than her eyes. “Does it hurt?”
“N-no,” she breathed. “It’s…it’s good. You may continue.”
He did so, sheathing the remainder of his length, then slowly thrusting, and the feeling of pressure blossomed into pleasure, especially as the second cock rubbed against her clitoris every time his body met hers. Her mouth dropped open, her breath coming fast and ragged as the heat within her built and built, until suddenly there was a break, a snap as everything in her seized and shook. A strangled cry escaped her throat as it stretched back, her eyes staring unseeing up at the stone ceiling of her cove.
The merman trilled as her cunt clamped tighter to his cock, and sped the motion of his tail, sending water sloshing up onto her chest. He wrapped an arm around her back to jerk her to his body and speared deep into her delicious heat. It felt so good inside her, warm and exceedingly tight, yet he fit just right, like he was meant to be there despite her being a different race than him, and with another throaty trill his seed rushed up both cocks and spurted free, one filling her, the other turning the water between them creamy white.
His fins trembled and gills flared as he fought for breath through his climax. When his heart slowed, he pulled back from her, letting his softening cock slip free of her cunt and drawing both of his shafts back inside his slit.
He did not look at her face. “There. I did my duty.”
The woman wrapped her arms over her chest, hiding her brown nipples from view through the wet white fabric of her chemise, though he wasn’t looking at her. “Indeed.”
He bowed his head in her direction. “Good evening, then.” And he slipped under the surface of the water and flicked away.
The woman expected not to see him again for another month, when he might return to see if their mating had been fruitful, but instead he came back at high tide the very next day. “We should ensure that my seed takes,” he explained, and she shrugged and went to strip down to her chemise.
Their second mating was much the same as their first, pleasurable but largely silent, neither of them looking at each other or touching more than necessary. The third and fourth were also similar. But on the fifth day that he returned to couple with her, she held to his shoulders rather than the ledge as he took her, and he stared at the wet fabric clinging to her bouncing breasts. On the sixth day, he took a breast in his hand, squeezing and pulling at her clothed nipple, making her moan. And on the seventh day, he spoke to her while he touched her.
“You use these to feed your young, yes?” he panted as he thrust. “Our child will suckle here?”
It shocked her to feel a bolt of pleasure shoot up her spine at the mention of their child. She never really let herself think about the fact that that was what they were doing together, making a child, but the idea thrilled her, now. “Y-yes.”
“May I try it?”
She stared wide-eyed at him, but his eyes were downcast, staring at her breast. “If you wish.”
He ducked his head and closed her mouth around one nipple, sucking hard, and she could barely feel the thin cloth in the way of the heat of his mouth. It sent warmth swirling and pooling down in her belly, and she moaned out a long ohhhh.
He cooed and swept his tongue in circles around the peak, and without thinking she grabbed his hair to hold his head in place. He grunted but did not protest, still pumping steadily into her as he suckled at her chest.
After they had both finished, he met her eyes. “Thank you,” he told her. She blinked. He had never said that before. And then he was gone again.
He could not get enough of her breasts following this encounter. Every time they would couple, his mouth would fall upon them, licking and sucking greedily, fondling the other in his hand. “Will you take this off?” he finally asked one night, tugging at her chemise. “Please.”
She was just as eager to feel his mouth directly, and once the flimsy fabric was gone, she could not understand why she had ever bothered with it to begin with. It felt exquisite to have his tongue directly against her skin. “Oh yes, darling,” he mumbled around her nipple, and her belly clenched at the unexpected endearment.
The next day was the first time she saw her husband outside of the house, at low tide. She was walking along the beach with a basket from the market, when a familiar blue-green head popped up out of the waves, then speedily approached her. She stayed planted at the water line as he pulled himself out of the sea on his thickly muscled arms. The scales of his blue tail gleamed in the sun like sapphires, and she was struck by how handsome he truly was.
“What brings you here?” she asked.
He quirked a brow at her. “I live here.”
She waved a hand at the sea. “You live there.”
Their house was only a hundred meters or so down the beach, and he felt rather hurt that she didn’t consider him to live there too, but then again, he could not really blame her. He had never spent any time in the house except to breed her. For the first time, he considered how lonely that might be for her, and felt a touch of guilt. He had an entire pod to live with, while humans seemed to habitate with only their mate and offspring.
“I wanted to see how you are doing,” he said.
Now it was her turn to quirk a brow at him. Since when did he care how she was? “I am well. Actually—” She cleared her throat and shifted her basket in front of her belly. “I have been meaning to tell you that I, ah, I might be with child. My courses were supposed to begin several days ago, but so far…”
His heart kicked in his chest. “Really? So, we might have been successful?”
She gave him a crisp nod. “Yes. And I suppose…you do not need to come to me any longer.”
His heart fell into his stomach. “Oh. Yes. I suppose you are right. No need for that now.”
“Right,” she said faintly. “No need.”
He dropped his eyes to the wet sand, tracing his finger through it. “Well. That’s excellent news. I will visit periodically just to make sure you and our child are well.”
She nodded. He looked up at her. “Goodbye, then.” And with that he dragged himself back into the waves and flicked his tail to dart away.
The merman kept this word, visiting every few days to check how his wife was faring in her pregnancy. The first few times, he hoped to arrive to find that she was mistaken, she was not actually pregnant, but her courses never came, and when she became sick to her stomach, he knew it was certain. He felt guilty for wishing her not pregnant, for he did truly wish for a child, but he did not wish for a child that would be used to fight wars and die for a human king. And he missed the intimacy he had felt in coupling with his wife. He was shocked by how greatly he yearned for her.
On one of his visits, he found the parlor empty, and when he called out her name, got only a moan from her bedroom in response. Alarmed, he pulled himself out of the pool onto the dry floor and quickly dragged himself into her bedroom. “What’s wrong?”
She lifted her head from her pillow. “What are you doing in here?”
“Making sure you are alright. What do you need?”
“I feel so sick today,” she groaned, rubbing her stomach. “For some reason, I really want fish to eat, but I cannot muster the energy to get up to go to the fishmonger.”
He made a sound of angry disgust. “The fishmonger! My wife, eating that garbage!”
She frowned in confusion. “You eat fish.”
“Exactly!” He twisted himself back toward the door. “I will take care of it,” he said firmly as he left.
He returned half an hour later with a filet of raw fish wrapped in kelp. It smelled strongly, and the woman suspected it would have disgusted her a month ago, but at that moment, it looked heavenly to her. Still, she had to point out that it was raw. “That doesn’t matter,” the merman told her. “It’s very healthful. Eat.”
He fed it to her, and it tasted splendid, exactly what she wanted, leaving her feeling so much better afterwards. She thanked him for it, and he darted off to hunt and bring her more.
After this incident, his visits increased to daily, and he spent longer with her at each one. He brought her fish to eat, and then sometimes shells and stones that he thought she would find beautiful, and she did. He pulled her into the water with him to rub her back and hips when they ached, and they shared stories from their very different lives in the sea and on land.
One evening, they were sitting on the underwater ledge together, the woman leaning back atop his lap, his hands curled around her growing belly to rub gently. He enjoyed the contrast between his blue-green skin and her brown, and wondered which their child would have. “Do you worry what is going to happen to him someday?” she asked quietly.
He knew she meant their child, and yes, he worried about it tremendously. But, he didn’t wish to upset her. “Perhaps it is a girl. Then she will not have to fight.”
“Yes,” she sighed. “But then she will just be forced to marry another half-breed and produce more sons for the war.”
His hands stilled. “Like you were forced to do.”
She was quiet for a few moments. “Like me,” she finally said in agreement.
“I’m sorry. I know this is not the life you wanted.”
She turned her head to look over her shoulder at him. “It’s not the life you wanted either.”
“No, but…” He swallowed hard. “I cannot say that I dislike it.”
“You don’t?”
“No. I think I quite love it.”
“Oh,” she breathed.
“May I kiss you?” He had never once done so in the six months they had been married.
“Yes.”
He tilted his head, and their lips met, tentative and soft at first, then pressing together with more purpose. At the first touch of his tongue to her lips, she hummed and opened to him, and he gently licked inside, tasting of salt and sending tingles shivering through her.
Without breaking from her mouth, he lifted her from his lap and turned them to set her down on the ledge, bobbing in the water in front of her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, but he slipped down out of her grasp to suck on her nipple, now even more sensitive due to her pregnancy, making her moan. Then, he slipped down further still, his head disappearing under the water, and pushed her thighs apart to nuzzle up between them.
“Oh!” she cried when his tongue dragged through the petals of her sex, then lapped at her pearl. She moaned his name, watching him through the water, and his eyes flicked up to hers, a fond smile dancing in them. He had never done this to her before, and they had not had any form of marital intimacy since they discovered her pregnancy months ago. It felt divine to have him pleasuring her again, not only in terms of physical pleasure, but also with a feeling of emotional connection.
He slid a finger inside her and pumped it in time to the lapping of his tongue, and she squeezed tight around it when her orgasm washed through her only a few minutes later.
He popped back up out of the water, smiling at her and leaning in for another kiss. “Was that agreeable?”
“Oh yes,” she sighed. “And now you…?”
He shook his head, the motion flicking water on her face. “That was just for you, darling.”
“‘Darling’?”
“Well, you’re my wife—why shouldn’t I call you darling?”
A bashful smile overtook her face. “I just didn’t think you thought of me that way.”
“I didn’t at first, but now…” He rubbed his knuckles along her jaw. “Now I think of you as the most beloved creature in my life.”
“I feel the same,” she admitted, and giggled when his fins popped up to tremble happily.
Her merman husband was with her as often as possible for the rest of her pregnancy, doting on her, pleasuring her, fussing over her every need. She took care of him too, in whatever way she could, helping to braid his hair, scratching at his fins to make him trill. He taught her how to hold tight to his top cock as he fucked her with the bottom one, each thrust driving him into both her cunt and her fist at once, until he'd spill groaning her name and how much he loved her.
When their son was born a few months later, she cried, partially from happiness to have such a precious child of her own, and partially from fear of what would happen to him when he became a young man. Her husband soothed her worries. “Nothing will be asked of him for many years yet. We will let him choose. If he wishes to become a sailor, he may, and if not, we will take him away from here. Your king cannot have him. He is ours, our beloved son, and I will never let any harm befall him, my love.”
“Do you promise?”
His eyes glinted purple, fierce with protective love for his wife and child both. “I promise.”
Gratitude and love swelled in her chest. “How lucky I am to have been chosen to marry you, dearest.”
He had once considered his marriage a punishment and this cliffside cove house a prison, but he spoke true when he replied, “Not as lucky as I was to be given such a treasure as you, darling.”
🧜♂️
This is one of those stories that I feel like could be turned into an entire novel, especially if I covered what happens to their son as he grows up and how they escape from the king.
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Finally off the major meds post surgery and able to get editing and writing again!
As there's no new chapter of Moonlight & Masquerades today, here's a sneak peek of my current art project - a Regency set of my Kanera historical paper dolls to match the fic. I'm also working on some backdrops to go along with the new outfits!
(Riding habits for them both based on images from the Regency era fashion magazine Costume Parisien)
This year, I posted 46 fics on AO3, plus 49 stories on my sideblog @regency-monster-love. I've put ⭐stars⭐ next to the ones I'm particularly proud of.
Beauty and the Beast 1991 fics
Bull in a china shop - E - 371 words
⭐ He only lives to serve - E - 1,633 words
Beauty and the Beast kiss ficlets - T - 448 words
An impossible thing - G - 894 words
Barely even friends - G - 631 words
[Podfic] How Do You Define Success? - G
⭐ All he is - E - 24,766 words
Joy in the bubbles - G - 365 words
Family portraits - G - 659 words - "Transformation" series
Marked with scent and seed - E - 2,630 words - "Scent" series
Superman 2025 fics
⭐ Bubble bath routine - E - 1,172 words
Human superpowers - T - 944 words
Kryptonian breeding season - E - 1,347 words
⭐ Clark’s super sex problem - E - 10,812 words
Sun-kissed Sunday morning - E - 1,918 words
Clark craves couple clichés - T - 806 words
First taste - E - 578 words
⭐ Purely pretend or pure instinct? - E - 4,308 words
A hero by any other name - G - 451 words
Pride and Prejudice fics
⭐ The men shan’t come and part us, I am determined - G - 886 words
A collection of cousins - G - 966 words
Pride and Prejudice kiss ficlets - T - 879 words
Mistress of Pemberley - E - 6,482 words
Persuasion fics
⭐ Dare to hope - T - 1,220 words
Persuasion kiss ficlets - M - 1,173 words
⭐ 66% agony - M - 2,495 words
Every happiness - G - 550 words
Under the blankets - T - 338 words
Home above the sea - G - 562 words
Swelling the fleet - E - 1,942 words
Northanger Abbey fics
Uncovered - T - 391 words
Northanger Abbey kiss ficlets - M - 654 words
Teased awake - M - 562 words
⭐ Nice - E - 1,821 words - my 69th fic
Persuasion/Northanger Abbey crossover fic
⭐ In the Churchyard - G - 2,354 words
Sense and Sensibility fics
Sense and Sensibility kiss ficlets - T - 501 words
Consummation preparation - E - 1329 words
Regency monster OC fics
In 2025, I posted 49 fics, many with several chapters, to @regency-monster-love, so I won't list them all out here again. I will, though, give a special shout-out to my ⭐grumpy orc⭐ and ⭐gargoyle lord⭐ series, and then direct you to the master lists on the other blog for the rest:
My favorite monster fics of 2025 | My full Regency monster master list
NSFW: dubcon, p in v, breeding, rut, mating press, oral (f receiving), loss of virginity, forbidden sex | Regency era
The monster slipped from the bedroom loaned to him, still unsure if he was on his way to burst into the human woman’s bedroom or throw himself outside and take his chances getting home on foot in this snowstorm.
Her scent was stronger here in the hallway, making him clench his teeth. Oh, she smelled so ripe! He’d detected it as soon as he arrived at the dinner party that evening, of course, but the competing smells of food and satisfying that manner of appetite had kept him distracted from the scent of her heat and its own accompanying hunger. Besides, he need only resist the temptation of her for about two hours or so, after which the party would be finished and he would be back home, away from her.
But he had not anticipated getting stuck in this small house overnight with everyone else in the party, thanks to the blasted snowstorm which had blown up out of nowhere, and he’d now been steeped in her scent for six hours and counting. It was too much for his body to bear, putting him on the brink of a rut. And if that started, he would never be able to hold himself back from breeding her.
He needed to get away before he lost control and did something deeply improper and wholly irreversible. He strode down the stairs, determined to plunge himself into the snow—but before he could do so, he was hit with an even stronger wave of the woman’s scent than he had smelt upstairs. It was the most tantalizing aroma that had ever reached him. It clouded his mind with primitive need, all of his consciousness narrowing down to finding that scent, demanding he pursue and claim, and his feet carried him to its source and sent him bursting into the drawing room.
A figure sat up quickly from the sofa with a sound of surprise at the same moment that her ripe scent flooded him. There was just enough moonlight reflecting off the clouds and snow outside to paint the side of her face and unbound hair in pale silver, illuminating her alarm and beauty at once.
“What are you doing here?” he growled through clenched fangs.
“I could not sleep with my mother, her snoring—what are you—”
The reminder that her mother was in the same house at that very moment should have restrained him from going any further with said woman’s daughter.
It did not.
He was across the room in an instant, dropping down onto the sofa to cage himself over her as she tumbled back down, eyes burning into hers. “I need you. You are in heat, and you have put me in rut, and if I cannot breed you I will tear this house down upon our heads.” He dipped his face down to her neck, drawing in a deep breath and nosing at her skin, making her gasp. “Tell me that I can have you. I have never needed anything more,” he bit out, voice sharp with warning and demand.
She was terrified, and yet something about his feral energy drew her to him too, stoppering up any screams for help she might have thought to unleash and making her wet against her will.
The smell of her slick destroyed the last scrap of civility he had left—he ripped away the blanket and yanked up her nightgown to bury his face in her cunt. She cried out, but not loud enough for anyone asleep upstairs to hear over the sound of the snowstorm that still raged outside. Pleasure raged inside, too, blazing through her veins as he devoured her, despite the way she shoved at his horns, writhed, sobbed, and in a staggeringly brief amount of time his tongue had sent her to a dizzying peak of ecstasy.
He pulled up, ripping open the front of his trousers. “Tell me that I can have you,” he demanded once more, but she could not think, could barely breathe as her release still worked its way through her body.
“We, we should not…cannot…” she panted, bracing her tiny hands on his broad chest as if to push him away.
“We must. We will,” he snarled, as he shoved her thighs to her chest and speared his thick monster cock into her virgin cunt. A slash of heat burst from the spot where he split her open and joined himself to her, forcing a fresh cry from her hoarse throat, but he muffled it with his mouth, forcing her to taste herself on his lips.
He was fully lost to rut now, and that inescapable instinct powered each of his thrusts with bruising force, a savage beast fucking into her with no regard for her pleasure.
But she felt pleasure anyway, so much pleasure, filling every inch of her whether she wished for it or not. It built and burst in a glorious release as strong as the first he stole from her, and the way she clenched around him made his cock swell and then erupt inside her, unloading all of his potent seed into her womb.
“Take my seed, female, grow my cubs,” he rasped out. She could do nothing but groan as he filled her.
But he was not finished yet—the rut demanded more, his cock pistoning through the cum he just deposited. She was so slick, so tight, the perfect hole for him to breed.
She had stopped struggling against him long ago, and now began trying to snap her hips up to meet his thrusts. It was difficult in the mating press he had her pinned in, however, so he yanked himself out only to flip her over and slam back inside.
His claws dug into her hips as she pushed them back to meet the drive of his fat cock, helping him force its inhuman girth as deep as possible in her cunt.
He painted her pussy with his cum again and again. She was so full, cunt swollen and aching, body boneless, wheezing and whimpering, when the monster finally erupted for the last time and stilled. He did not pull out, keeping her stopped up to protect his seed and give it time to take root.
He draped himself over her much smaller human body, gently tracing a claw over her bloated belly. Despite the cold outside and lack of fire in the grate, she was drenched in sweat. He listened to the snow beat against the window, the wind howl at the chimney, and hoped that the storm would continue for some hours yet, so that no one would hear him when he was rested enough to start round two.
~ 😈🎩 ~
Inspired by the sudden snowstorm during the Westons’ Christmas dinner party in Emma. But, like, way filthier and dark. Written for @breedvember!
All my Regency monster stories: full master list or #my writing
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.
Orc master list | All my Regency monster stories: full master list or #my writing
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Male werewolf x reader (female genitalia but gender not explicitly stated)
Summary: You guide a werewolf through his first time having sex. 754 words/3-minute read time.
Tags: NSFW 🌶️, oral (f receiving) 👅, p in v 🍆, knotting 🪢, creampie 💦, mild praise (m receiving) 👏, loss of virginity (m), first time
Your werewolf is nervous the first time he takes you, partially because you're a delicate human and he doesn't want to hurt you, but mostly because he has never done any of this before.
You have. So it's up to you to teach him.
You start with how to use his mouth between your legs. "Gentle," you remind him as his clawed thumbs spread your folds open, but he's already moving with the slow reverence of someone handling a fragile and priceless treasure.
His first lick is more tentative than savoring, but soon he's lost himself in the taste of you, digging his tongue into your cunt to get as much as he can before returning his attentions to your sensitive pearl, back and forth, so eager as you praise how lovely he is making you feel.
"That's it, yes! Oh good boy! I'm going to come, I'm coming!" you cry out as your orgasm buries you in an avalanche of pleasure. You're breathing too hard to hear his tail joyfully thumping against the bed as you throb on his tongue.
But a minute or two later, he's a little nervous again as he starts to ease his cock inside you, his eyes darting between your face and your cunt—he wants to check your reaction, but also watch how something so small can swallow up something so long and thick.
He whines when he gets deep enough for his knot to nestle against your spread lips. "So tight," he whimpers. "Need to..." His hips cant backwards on instinct, pulling his cock out nearly to his head before smoothly burying himself again. "Oh God," he chokes out as you moan, too, at the delicious pressure of being filled.
At first, you direct the rhythm and angle of his thrusts, and he does everything just as you say. "Like this?" he asks.
"Perfect, you're so good," you croon, and he groans at your praise.
It's heady, feeling as if you're in control of someone so powerful, a force of nature that you have subdued to your will. He is at your mercy, his pleasure in your hands.
And yet, it is just as intoxicating to cast away your control once he gains enough confidence to take the upper hand in your lovemaking, moving himself the way he chooses and taking you along with him. It's freeing and exciting knowing you are powerless against a creature like him, and yet trusting him to use his power to please and protect you, never to hurt. His claws press into the flesh of your hips, but never pierce. His fangs scrape over your nipples, but never bite. The way his huge furry form completely envelops you sends a sharp thrill through your blood and a soft warmth of safety into your chest at the same time, driving you toward a staggering second peak.
"My knot!" he gasps as it starts to grow outside you, so close to spilling.
"Lift my hips!" you cry, and he hefts you up, changing the angle to let him get deeper.
He snaps his hips harder, urging his knot to part you, and suddenly the whole thing slips in and immediately swells sharply to lodge itself against the squeezing walls of your cunt. The sudden stretch rips a strangled gasp from your throat at the same time that your werewolf's entire body jerks against you, and he tips his head back to howl as he erupts inside you. Jagged little rocks of his hips punctuate each spurt of his seed, his thick knot rubbing so tight and hot against a pleasure spot within your cunt that it tips you over the edge into your own release.
You ride out your orgasms together in a noisy mix of moans, whimpers, and growls. He drops your thighs to tip forward, catching himself on his arms, but they tremble with the force of the bliss still coursing through him. You push on his chest to urge him to fall to his side. It pulls you with him, of course, the knot on his cock still tying you together, and then you're laying side by side, legs tangled, facing each other.
A smile curves across his muzzle, and his tongue is suddenly all over your face, licking excitedly while he mumbles out thanks and praise. You laugh, and try to lick him back, telling him how well he did, your good boy.
This time you do hear the happy thumps of his tail wagging on the mattress.
~ 🐺🎩 ~
Based on a request. I realized I had yet to write werewolf x reader, so I had to correct that oversight asap. There's nothing in this that makes it explicitly Regency, but there's nothing in it that makes it not Regency either, so imagine it however you like!
All my Regency monster stories: full master list or #my writing
I’m so proud of what I accomplished this year, and so thankful for everyone who has given my fic a kind comment or reblog, or sent me enthusiastic asks! Your support has made this blog a joy for me and inspired so much of my writing. Thank you!
I was going to put together a 2025 master list, but because I started this blog in late 2024, almost everything on my existing master list was written in 2025.
So instead, I'm going to highlight the 2025 fics I'm particularly proud of, as well as those by other monster writers that I really enjoyed.
My fav fic series
Garek and Esther - grumpy male orc x female human - An enemies-to-lovers romance between a grumpy orc who hates humans and a sunshine female human who just might be his fated mate
Hugo and Winifred - gargoyle lord x female human - An arranged marriage romance between a gentle giant gargoyle and sensible human with a bit of pining and lots of spice
My fav standalone OC fics
Demon x female human - Demon corrupts an angelic looking harpist + part 2
Merman x male human - Rescues naval captain and claims him as his mate
Nature spirit x female human - Cernunnos explains sex to innocent virgin selected as his "offering" in a spring festival
Orc x female human - Orc gentleman obsessed with breeding his wife for an heir
Unspecified monster x male human - Nurses wounded soldier back to health as they fall in love
My fav standalone reader fics
Demon x female reader - Demon bodyguard shares a bed with you at an inn
Minotaur x female reader - Falling in love with a widowed farmer minotaur
Orc x female reader - You learn the romantic orc mating customs involving hair
Vampire x female reader - Yearns to taste you but never wants to hurt you + part 2
Shapeshifter x gn reader - Transforms his cock over and over as he breeds you
My fav fics by others
I did a really poor job keeping track of this over the year, so I'm sure I'm missing lots, but here are some of the monster fics I particularly enjoyed.
Lost in Translation by @slightly-knot-insane: I love the culture clash, the orc chieftain fawning over her while she's completely oblivious to it, her feistiness, the way he calls her "little wife," and their sex is so hot!
Elevator Ride by @slightly-knot-insane: So fun and hot having sex where you shouldn't
Spark by @slightly-knot-insane: Amazing dirty talk and breeding!
Tusk Benefits by @aelia-likes-monsters: I love how they gradually grow closer, and I love a respectful orc
Internal Affairs by @aelia-likes-monsters: Scorching hot angry possessive office sex with a werewolf!
Just the Tip by @macabrebatz: I'm not even part of this fandom, but the size difference with these orcs is insanely hot
Home Workouts by @monstersholygrail: Such filthy dirty talk yesss
Jock-cock by @monstersflashlight: The backstory is touching, and their dialogue and dynamic is so cute and hot!
Put an (ear)ring on it by @monstersflashlight: I love some sweet monster mating customs
My fav monster books
I am notoriously picky about monster romance novels, so most of them rate 2 or 3 out of 5 stars on my Storygraph. But, I have to give a shout-out to the "Monsters of Faery" books by Mallory Dunlin (@menagerie-of-monsters). I read four of them in the series in 2025, and they were all 4 or 5 star reads, which from me is saying a tremendous amount. My favorite was the first one, Captured by the Fae Beast. Looking forward to reading more from the series in 2026!
What if you get into an accident, or get very sick, and when the Monster Physician steps into your room to treat you, the scent of your blood slams into him and makes him stumble—you're his mate.
But you're also his patient, and he needs to stay professional, so he fights against his mating instincts the entire time he's treating you. It's maddening.
His fingers shake—he can touch you only to heal, not to give you pleasure.
He tenses his arms—to prevent himself from wrapping them around you and pulling you to his chest, yearning to comfort his unwell mate.
He clenches his jaw—his instincts demanding he snarl and snap at your own family members in the room with you, to drive them away so only he can protect you while you heal, because you're his.
But you're not really his, not yet. You don't even know him.
He could bite you and make you his, right now. You couldn't stop him. You're confined to bed, weak. His tongue runs over his aching teeth.
—No. He has to act professional.
His instincts scream and every part of him aches.
~~~~
Edit: there's a master list for all #monster physician snippets now
