#Rocky clouds in the nights | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

razzle-n-dazzle · 7 months

Note

Hihi!!

Can I ask for some Adam dating headcanons?

MY MAN NEEDS LOVEE

ᯓ★ "Alright, Sugartits. You, me, you know what we're going to do." Adam / reader | Headcanons This man deserves so much more love!! >:v

ᯓ As the first man, and proclaimed original dick, Adam not only is rather obnoxious with his titles though can be rude and a bit sexist. At least, that is what you first thought when you met him all those years ago; what felt like years but had actually been a few decades.

ᯓ You first met Adam in a council meeting, having been recently promoted to sit upon the council (or having been a sinner that Charlie was trying to redeem). Either way, you were not safe from Adam and his mischievous nature and it was like he could pick out new blood in the court room like a shark closing in on it's prey. You had been minding your business at first, settling yourself before you heard the sound of large wings flapping in your direction and a pair of footsteps landing behind you. Followed by another, smaller pair. The marble floor wasn't great in hiding their landing, but you guessed they weren't trying to be sneaky the moment that Adam had opened his mouth.

ᯓ "Shit, you're the new guy that Sera was talking about? Man, you're even shorter than I thought you were, Babe." Adam would laugh, jutting out his arm to measure the height comparison between you and him. You would turn around to this, and was quickly unamused by his antics. "Adam, I presume?" You would mumble back to him, face dropped in annoyance that he didn't seem to pick up on. He just seemed rather overly excited that you had knew his name. "Oh fuck! Mortal souls still talk about me down there on Earth? Well, I wouldn't expect anything else I fucking rock."

ᯓ He was pretentious, that was the best word you could describe him as. Rude, arrogant, obnoxious, pretentious. He boiled your blood anytime he opened his stupid mouth and you often just wanted to shove your hand down his throat just to rip it out. He would constantly barge into your office and appear behind you in court just to annoy you and see "what you're working on," since he's technically "your boss" and he just doesn't see anything "wrong with it". You've had to shove him out of your office so many times; had even complained to your superiors about his behavior and yet no one seemed to take you seriously. They would shrug their shoulders (especially Sera) and just claim: "That was Adam" and you just had to "deal with it." Oh and that made you want to punch the little fucker even more.

ᯓ Your 'professional relationship' with Adam started off extremely rocky and you tried your best to avoid him in the halls and courtroom at all cost. The less you had to see him, the less you had to hear about him, the less your had to hear him or even stand to be near him, the better.

ᯓ And Adam noticed. He noticed really quickly actually.

ᯓ Not like it was hard to notice, you basically avoided him at all costs. Taking another hallway if you saw or heard him coming down one, shoving past him if he tried to block your path, ignoring him if he tried to talk to you, and so much more that he brushed off. Constantly, you heard him turn to Lute and point at you, jokingly telling her: "It must be that time of the month." With his stupid grin and cheesy smile. (Does this even if you are male) And you thought it was just him trying to get under your skin and annoy you into talking to him again; or even acknowledging his presence. You also had a hunch that it was him trying to save his 'precious little ego' that makes him so insufferable to be near.

ᯓ Yet, it was odd. For how much you hated, no loathed Adam, you couldn't get his stupid face and idiotic voice out of your head when you were along, shrouded in the dead of night. Especially on nights like tonight: Where you were sat along in your office, the chimes of midnight ringing along Heaven, as night clouded and contaminated the once gleaming city of day. You were leaning over your desk, trying to finish an assignment given to you by Sera; an assignment that was important to your continuation of climbing the council ladder. And yet all you could hear was that stupid fucker's voice in your head constantly. His remarks, his tone, his- ugh! His stupid, stupid voice why couldn't it just leave you alone.

ᯓ Why couldn't he just leave you alone?

ᯓ . . . but, dammit, why did you feel comforted by the thought?

ᯓ In reality you shouldn't be, you should never feel comfortable around a prick like Adam who only searches for one thing in women; sex, ass, and tits. Three things, okay, but it's all in the general same category. He was the man who would be at the top of your hitlist, if you could have one in heaven, yet his voice was the only thing keeping you up right now; Letting you fight off sleep for another night and finish this report sooner than Sera said she wanted it just to show her how capable you are. And as you continued to scribble away, letting the moon crescent slip back under the clouds to let it's sister sun peak over with it's gleaming light, it hit you. And the realization of WHY hit you hard, and the truth made you stop in your tracks. The final period to end your assignment taunting you along with your thoughts:

ᯓ Somehow, someway, you had started to grow a crush on that fucker.

ᯓ Somehow, by some grace (more like punishment), of God did you begin to harbor something other than loathing for Adam. For the annoying Adam who constantly picked you out in a room and came over to talk to you. The Adam, which you never noticed, began to grow more tolerable even if you kept up your act of avoiding him. The Adam, who constantly comes in to see what your doing but then asks you a million and one questions, not because he cares about your work but because in some twisted sense in his mind, that's him caring about you or trying to get to know you. The Adam who called you Sugartits and Babe all in your first 2 seconds of meeting. "Fucking Adam.." You would grumble under your breath, slamming your pen down to finish that last period as a mix of emotions boiled in your blood.

ᯓ "Fuck me? Kinky, but what the fuck did I do to you, I just got in!" Shit. Well, this is such a great start in trying to get to know Adam better. (I hope you can hear the sarcasm that is basically pooling on the floor)

ᯓ Yet, somehow, no matter how rocky the situation ship started, somehow Adam had a big enough of an ego to see it through and you had gained enough patience to put up with his bullshit. And trust me when I say, you need either need to match his energy, yet in a more responsible way, or have enough patience to deal with this man or your drowning under his egoistical bullshit. (Adam needs a Hispanic wife desperately. /j)

ᯓ For the most part, your relationship is actually rather lovely. Most wouldn't believe it, seeing as Adam is.. well Adam, but you were able to see the weirdly good intentions behind his rather questionable and problematic choices. As for such, when he had gone to Sera to start the extermination, during the whole meeting all he could think about was keeping you safe. What was the best way to keep you safe? How could he keep you from being entranced by Lucifer or Lilith and their sin and evil? He didn't want to lose you like he lost Eve and Lilith. Sure, he joked about being a fuckboy and a player (at least that's how he comes off) yet he never has actually touched anyone after Eve. He was waiting for someone, someone like you, to capture his attention and soon after his heart; and he chased after you and he was going to keep you, and he was going to protect you if it was the last thing he did. Because as much as Adam hates to admit it, he is terrified to be alone; to live all the rest of his immortality by himself, going home to an apartment with no one to share the warmth and feeling that empty wound in his heart.

ᯓ Adam, on the lighter note, is also the type of man who will go to a restaurant with you and claim he'll try something new; i.e. lobster. You had known, at an instant, that it would go wrong and decided to order any sort of red meat you could find that you knew Adam would like. And, wouldn't you know it, when you two got the food he couldn't bare eating that lobster. So, you offered to switch your plates and he was more than happy to. You don't think he's caught on yet, but you'll keep it a secret just to be able to see the excited grin he gets before snatching your plate with a "Thanks Babe!" and even kissing you later.

ᯓ You learn very quickly the only way to get Adam to start cleaning around the house is to either A) let him play his guitar for you, to simulate that he's helping by giving you motivation (and swooning over his voice a little) or B) playing music similar to that Adam plays (like AC/DC, Imagine Dragons, anything Indie-rock) and give him small tasks to do that slowly equate to one larger task. And then, of course, there is always his favorite option C) hug your waist and make it impossible for you to clean your shared apartment as he basically speaks dirty into your ear with his classical snicker.

ᯓ You're guys sex life is amazing though, Adam makes sure of that (so that cunt Lucifer can't take you from him like he did Lilith and Eve, through 'temptation'). But, honestly, you're the only person he has given head to or has eaten out, pick your choice. Either way, man goes crazy if you tug on his hair or tell him you won't ever leave him.

ᯓ The first time you saw Adam with his mask off was an experience, both for you and for him. For a long, long time Adam kept his mask on around you, even while in private, and you've always asked why he did so but he would never give you a straight answer and would brush around it. You often chalked it up to be a comfort thing for him, to make him feel stronger than he actually was and you didn't bother him much. Yet one day, you got oh so curious about what his face was like under the mask that you couldn't help yourself: Sitting next to Adam outside on the balcony, you listened as he prattled on about his work day all the while he ate. He was having some burgers you had cooked for him before he got home, as he exclaimed about, "These bitches don't know who the fuck they were talking to! I mean, hello, I'm fucking Adam I'm the dick master and I would have fucked them into next Friday! I'm like 10 times cooler and stronger than them, bitches thought they could come into the exorcists and make fun of me, well I-..." Adam paused unnaturally, a confusion sweeping over his digitalized golden-accented features. "Babe, what the fuck are you doing?" He would add on no more than 5 seconds later, noticing had you had moved from your seat and basically were straddling him right now. Though you didn't hear him, well you did but you shut it out as soon as he opened his mouth again; "You know, this is making me fucking hard right now and if you just wanted your sweet little insides-" "Adam." You hushed him as his arms wrapped around your waist and brought you closer. There was no missing the way his eyes widened in suprise at your sterner tone. Though his grin returned, another crude comment about to slip from his lips before he hushed again; Doing so as your hands had meet and cupped his cheeks in such an oddly tender way. And Adam had a hunch what you wanted to do, or well what you wanted to see, and he felt those same nerves churn in his stomach again anytime this topic was brought up. Yet, no matter how much he noticed the want in your eyes, you didn't ask him. All you simply did was lean towards him and place your forehead against his, closing your eyes. And all Adam could do was stare at you, stare at your beauty in the light of the setting sun, and feel those nerves slowly string loose. And he felt safe; for the first time in a long, long, time he felt safe. "Babe.." And his voice cracked, causing your eyes to shoot open with worry. You drew away from Adam, your hands darting down to his shoulders as you wondered if you had somehow offended or harmed him. Yet all he did was smile softly at you as his wings fluffed out, basking in the light for a moment, before encapsulating the both of you. He was hesitant, his eyes drawing away from you as he took a moment to gather himself before he pulled off the mask for the first time. And you swore, in that moment, you somehow both practically died again and fell for him. "Oh shit.." You would mumble, catching Adam's attention rather quickly. You saw the worry contort on his face, "You've been hiding this handsome face from me, Adam what the fuck?! I would have much rather look at this than your fucking mask when you were blowing my brains out you b-" "Woah babe," Adam's hand rushed up and covered your mouth. You saw his scheming smirk playing onto his lips, "I can fuck you now if you want to, but I thought we were having a moment! Look at you, ruining it this time instead of me!~"

ᯓ Oh the fucking tease.

ᯓ Adam isn't perfect, far from it, but you aren't either. You honestly probably help each other over come traumas of the past and heal together. After all, you're both just a burning pile of hot mess, so why not be a burning pile together?

Home | Masterlist

ᯓ★ All posts/fanfictions posted under this blog is owned by @razzle-n-dazzle. Please do not steal, copy, or plagiarize the works! Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated.

(Hope this was good! :D I haven't written since I had gotten sick and writer's fog/block, so this might be a little more shaky than my regular work. I would appreciate any constructive critiques you may have!)

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin adam x reader #adam x reader #not proof read #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel adam #god help me please #hazbin hotel lute #hazbin hotel season 1 #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin headcanons #x reader #headcanons / ooc.#headcanons #there is swearing and sex jokes in this my god #help

2K notes · View notes

queers-gambit · 1 month

Text

The Black Dread part one

prompt: after word is sent for Dragonseeds to raise up, you shockingly claim The Black Dread. knowing your stance would all but determine the war, both Alicent and Rhaenyra send emissaries to persuade your allegiance through means of marriage. when tragedy strikes, you fly to war. -> in this part - you claim Balerion and emissaries are sent.

pairing: Jacaerys 'Jace' Velaryon x female!Tyrell!reader pairing: Aemond Targaryen x female!Tyrell!reader -> hair color specified reader -> technically Targaryen!reader -> ALL characters aged 18+

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

series masterlist: The Black Dread > > > next part, part two: read here

word count: 4.9k+

note: ALL characters are aged up - they are NOT minors

warnings: hair color specified reader but it's paramount to the story. Dance of the Dragons AU, Balerion lives AU - kinda heavy introduction. political manipulation, i guess no Baela, Rhaena or Alys romantic interests, ALL characters are aged 18 or older, Muses aren't in this part much, stolen Olenna Tyrell quote(s), Dylan Thomas quote.

though Balerion is not shown in the shows [HOTD or GOT], these are some of author's personal favorite fan art pieces: this this one, but maybe this color

Considering the climate, environment, elements, and location of each region with no true diverse distinction or transition between seasons, summers varied in each corner of the Seven Kingdoms. Notably, the mainland experienced vastly different summers in comparison to the constantly humid Westerosi islands.

This was expected.

Where the weather endured in King’s Landing is dry and stale - lacking cloud coverage, baking all forms of life under the unforgiving sun - Dorne was ideal: temperate, tropical, the temperature usually consistently comfortable.

Northwest of the continent, off the Westerlands coast in water of Ironman's Bay so dark, secrets remain hidden, summers on the ratified Iron Islands were cold due to the winds blowing from the North. The rocky region wet and slippery from rain; never humid, usually biting.

The Reach boasted pleasant summers; lush and green with fully bloomed gardens, perfectly balmy. The Stormlands lived up to its name and was plagued with frequent storms. These were usually warm rains - opposite the Iron Islands. The Crownland's annually hosted hordes of tourists at their ever popular summer attraction: temperate beaches. And why wouldn't they? The Crownlands's usually kept moderate temperatures and plenty of vast coastline to offer reprieve in the surf.

However, the only exception to sweltering, stereotypical climate that ransacks the Realm is the North - an expansive outlier. You see, in the North, summers are cold but winters are REALLY cold. From Bear Island to White Harbor, the dreary, overcast summer sky reflects on year-round, bright, pristine summer snow, making it glitter and blindingly glow. This results in the curation of a blue-grey filter naturally exclusive in the North.

However, tonight - You weren't ankle-deep in North summer snows. You weren't wheezing in King's Landing. You weren't vacationing in Dorne. You weren't sloshing through the Stormlands.

Tonight, you weren't on the mainland.

Tonight, you were on Dragonstone - ancestral home of your distant, estranged family.

Bullfrogs belted their croaky song, loud and incessant; as if trying to individually greet each twinkling star in the inky sky - the ever faithful audience; intrigued by this reckless and dangerous suicidal showdown you embarked on. Crickets chirped in a soprano choir; dotting around the maze of tide pools - cratered by the same porous, jagged, volcanic rock that defines the unpredictable, natural coastline. Frothing alto waves of dark navy, violent, salty sea brutally crashed against rock - the booming baseline of the frog's and cricket's private duet sang in perfect harmony.

All that was missing was a little red crab with a Jamaican accent encouraging you "kiss the girl".

Night had fallen. The winds were cold as a storm rumbled overhead. Rain fell sideways. Lightning streaked the skies.

You navigated through the dark - a slippery, dangerous feat.

Few windows of the castle gave a subtle, dim light; indicating the residents were more than likely turned in for the night. Still, despite the lack of patrolling guards and other witnesses, you remained in stealth mode. Only fools allowed themselves to feel cocky when their guards go down. When someone allowed their defenses to go down, mistakes are made, capture is imminent, the mission is a failure, and surrender to the enemy's mercy is forced.

Your presence on Dragonstone wasn't for romance - no girls (or boys) for you to kiss. This wasn't a social visit to recreationally mingle with the Velaryon Prince or Targaryen Princess Twins. You're not conducting research curriculum - no time to study flora, fauna, volcanic activity.

To the winged terrors, Dragonstone Island is a recognizable safe haven that promotes healing - the one place these miraculous beasts could relax, ease their defenses; be vulnerable with lowered guards. This sense of safety gives freedom away from the confines of Dragon Riders - simply allowed to be true, authentic, and animalistic.

Currently, a couple dragons sought refuge on the island, nesting, minding their own business; others sought rest, retirement, peaceful isolation. Several took advantage of the heat and loitered around the volcano, the Dragonmont.

They weren't just any dragons, some were rogue, wild; some released after captivity; all unclaimed, riderless. This tempted several persons to rely on arrogant luck and try their hand at harnessing the terrible beasties - but they never returned.

Summer days stretched long, giving limited time to move under the cover of darkness, and the nights progressively shortened each day leading up to the solstice. Your journey was miraculous, having never navigated open water before yet somehow arriving at Dragonstone after setting sail from King's Landing by yourself. Perhaps you had a hidden talent, a subconscious sailor mentality; maybe you were just lucky, or maybe your boiling emotions made you defiantly determined - running on pure spite to stay alive, unharmed, and without capsizing in an effort to complete your mission.

Most of the time, you relied more on logic than emotion, something that helped keep you balanced, grateful, rational. Leading with logic arguably "made" someone intelligent; solution oriented, stubborn, hardheaded, unwilling to compromise (a common foundation when leading with emotion).

Yet logic made you very black and white - no grey area. Logic is cut and dry. Logic is sometimes sophisticated. Logic is also stubborn. Logic abandoned empathy. Logic could be explained. Logic identified applicable reasonings and explanations. Logic is hard to argue against. Logic sustained battles of wit. Logic is sometimes discriminatory. Logic always tells the truth. Logic has limited loopholes.

Logic is fact driven, and when paired with your own rooted moral and religious beliefs, made you subconsciously judgmental.

There's a well-known proverb, quote, "it's not the destination, but the journey." Yet some philosophers think the destination is mundane, anticlimactic, boring, sometimes disappointing and unfulfilling while the journey is much more fulfilling. The journey is what's worth; an adventure, where development inflates, where a story worth telling lies.

Logic is the destination. Leading with emotion is the journey.

Leading with emotion develops thoughtful decisions. Emotions sharpen empathetic abilities. Emotions sometimes changes perspectives, broadens horizons. Emotions allow for differences in opinions. Emotions curates safety. Emotions heightens generosity. Emotions expands willingness to help. Emotions softens situations with compassion. Emotions often strides towards peace. Emotions structures harmony. Emotions accepts all. Emotions could be overwhelming. Emotions don't always have one, single, clear victor.

Leading with emotion makes you easily reactive, being why you made a conscious effort to engage logic; keeping yourself in check.

You often never lost your cool; always having a handle on things, but sometimes, it was a challenge. Emotions demand to be felt, and no matter how hard you train yourself and practice relying on logic, you were still human.

Both leading with logic and emotion made you passionate, sometimes synonymous with stubborn. Either way, you ended up here - on Dragonstone - slinking around in the dead of night as if a criminal on the run, trying to avoid the Rogue Prince's nefarious, outlandishly violent City Watch.

You were dedicated to the truth, hence your willingness to embark on this suicide mission. You know it's out there, becoming desperate to find it; never settling, fed the fuck up of mindless gossip the court whispered and hissed about. Enduring years of scrutiny and unfiltered rudeness made you confident, wanting, and energized to justify your claims, prove self-worth, assign relief, terminate turmoil, tension, and assumption.

Yeah, yeah, yeah - but what truth are you dedicated to? Your family's lineage and heritage, your birthrights, your position in society. Your contributing livelihood. They only thought you a young lady boasting the Tyrell surname - a broodmare to sell off. After Queen Rhaenyra proclaimed herself, you became incessant to prove you were so much more than a pretty fragile rose to be set in a vase.

Truth became your Eighth God; being a dedicated, loyal, trusting, worshipping follower. And the truth was, you're a Targaryen as much as a Tyrell, and by all means, had as much of a right to claim a dragon as any of the rest of them.

You refuse to take detours, cut corners, violate, or cheat to obtain your goal(s); arriving at your desired end result with integrity, completing your mission by barreling through obstacles with laser focus - like a predator stalking prey.

Boots slapped and clicked on wet rock, splashing in puddles, splattering mud up your legs to soak into your breeches. Heavy humidity - thick and muggy air - coated lungs and stuck in nostrils, being suffocatingly stuffy; breathing becoming difficult. You could physically feel the condensation in the air - hair adopting a mind of its own; beaded, clammy skin becoming uncomfortably sticky, palms slick with sweat. You missed the dry heat of the capital.

Dark hood of your cloak hid your vibrant hair; the material swishing, swirling airy fog low to the ground around your creeping form, creating an ominous energy. You half expected a ghost to appear at your flank.

The clanking of the night patrol's armor was heard first, alerting you to a diminishing window; sliding into the mouth of one of the dragon caves in time for the White Cloaks to stalk around the castle's perimeter walkway.

Even with thick rock cocooning your form, the rumbling of the nested dragon's slumber was heard; loose pebbles, dust and other debris showered from the cave ceiling. Despite the heat of the Dragonmont, you heard the slow echo of dripping water.

Your choice to come to Dragonstone, was it a logical decision? Or driven by emotions - fed up with the rumors, sneers, disrespect, critical judgement from everyone in King's Landing? ...yes.

Navigating a dragon lair was dangerous, but navigating a dragon lair with ZERO experience was an anticipated disaster. Surely, you must've lost your mind because no mentally stable person would dare step foot in this cave - let alone scale the depths in search of an ancient beast that could (and possibly wound) treat your charred body as a BBQ appetizer. With a gasp, you slipped on the rocks, hissing when the heels of your palms took the brunt end of impact and slit open; tiny pebbles sticking to your open flesh. You whimpered gently, jagged rocks digging into your knees as you cleared your hands and slowly found your feet.

Even with knowledge of your heritage, you hadn't grown around the scaly Targaryen counterparts like any and every other legitimate offspring. You were long divided from that side of your family, missing out on fascinating Valyrian traditional customs. It made you a slightly bitter.

No dragon egg in your crib. No hours-long practice in the Dragon Pit. No reptilian anatomy studies. No personalized leather saddle embellished with a three-headed dragon. No claim to ancestral privilege or birthright. No unique morality, nor holier than thou complex. No generational beast to inherit.

Skin free from the lingering, invasive, embedded stench of dragon hide.

You used to think learning Ancient Valyrian was a redundant waste of time, education, and resources. You were raised in the ancestral keep in the Reach's capital, Highgarden, under your father, Lord Tyrell, and his beloved wife - the Vanished Princess - which made this secret sleuthing harder to rationalize or explain, given no Targaryen ever lived in Highgarden. Never before were dragons hosted in The Reach, and therefor, a Dragon Pit was never erected.

So, you know how when you're a kid and see something at the store that you really want but your parent says no because you already have too much shit? They might've made their point by saying something, like, "Where do you think you're gonna put all that?"

Well, Highgarden is the toy box and you intend on bringing home one of those enormous stuffed animals won at a carnival / festival.

If anyone knew of this plan, they might've sent you to the medical institute the Citadel in Oldtown operates; involuntarily commit you to the structured research program that studies different mental and physical medical phenomenons.

Truth was, this wasn't even your idea. Your grandmother, who definitely either spent time in one of the Citadel's cells or should, encouraged you. Perhaps that should've been a red flag, but it was too late now, her words echoing in your mind ―

Be a dragon.

The gardens you walked through were in fragrant, full bloom; providing a sweet air to combat the foul words you admitted with your arm looped in your grandmother's. You paced evenly through the overgrown foliage, the bees buzzing to drown your words.

"Perhaps, something is wrong with me," you sulked, "because surely, it cannot be this difficult to find a match. It seems I need to lower my standards, I could not attract a decent man if I were covered in honey and he were a fly."

"Perhaps try covering yourself in shit, then," she advised with a knowing smirk.

"Grandmother."

"Well, it's curious, isn't it?" Celia asked.

"What is?"

"All your life, you've always been more Targaryen than Tyrell; fierce, loyal, impulsive, strong, enduring. Yet now, you return nothing more than a rose wilted from King's Landing's stench, moping about failed relations. Have you ever considered that simple men are incapable of supporting the love and marriage of a dragon?"

"Half blooded does not make me a dragon."

"No, but the spirit, wit, intelligence, spunk, ferocity, cunningness, and determination you display proves it." She paused your stroll, secluded canopy shroud by foliage to provide a moment of privacy.

"Not all would think so," you let your eyes roll.

"Who do you speak of?"

"Those who think I am lying about my own Targaryen parentage, citing the color of my hair as evidence. You would think I'm one of the Queen's sons, the way they whisper."

"Do not listen to busy mouths, sweet child, hair cannot be a sole indication of parentage. I know it's easy to cite, but not all descendants of Valyria have silver locks, and should anyone have anything to say, know they are merely bitter and jealous for your hair is the perfect blend of Tyrell auburn and Targaryen silver. A color that is hard to ignore."

"Yet it's not enough to prove myself to them, Grandmother."

Now Celia sounded determined but angry, "You are every bit Tyrell as you are Targaryen. While you might not appear to their biased eye, there's never been denial that you are made in your mother's fire. Pure blooded or not, you're a dragon, my sweet petal."

"So?"

"Oh, for the love of the Gods - so, be a dragon! Dragons do not fret because men don't blink twice at them, they eat those men! Don't beg for approval; maintain your dignity, instill a new opinion, demand respect! Prove your strength, skill, and capabilities - everything the courts would deliberately overlook. Prove everyone wrong, offer contribution to this war, become a valuable asset who would be foolish to send away. Establish your seat at the table and never let anyone talk down on you again," your grandmother snarled with passion. "There's more than one way to prove you have the blood of the dragon."

"Such as? What would you have me do?"

"I hear rumor there remains a host of unclaimed dragons on Dragonstone. The Queen's son and heir, Prince Jacaerys, has called for dragonseeds to try their hand - they need more dragonriders for their war. Claiming your birthright might be the fastest, easiest way to earn the Realm's approval; doubling as undisputed evidence of who you are."

"What a terrifying thought."

"But what a statement it would make," Celia's lips pulled in a smirk, wrinkles deeper, more prominent on sun-soaked, wrinkled skin. "Tyrells might be flowery, we might sigil a rose - but we are resilient and refuse to wilt; even in the heat of dragon fire. The Realm thinks Tyrells are only pretty faces; pretty flowers meant to be seen and never heard, whose sole purpose is to be left on display. Preconceived as uselessly inexperienced during wartimes; criminally green, pure, innocent - judgement that makes them shockingly unprepared for how deep our thorns prick." Both of Celia's hands grabbed yours, squeezing, advising, "Do not go quietly, my petal, make those who doubted you be haunted by their foolish choice to challenge the wrong woman. Let them seep in humiliation and regret their judgement. Allow your successful conquest to be the biggest 'fuck you' to prejudice, the final nail in any coffin of doubt. Toss your wilted rose of fear aside, petal, embrace the fire that burns in your veins; you are Lady Y/N Tyrell of Highgarden, daughter of The Forgotten Princess, and you will not go gentle into that good night. You will be a dragon."

You were ensuring passage by morning light, intent to deliver yourself to Dragonstone.

Parts of the cave glittered with unharvested gems; a lost collection of rarities nobody dared pursue out of fear of the ancient, terrible Valyrian beasties that dwell in those caves. The walls sweat from combined dragon and volcanic heat, tunnels jagged and uneven; zero holes, cracks, or slits the sun could leak through (if it were up); everything terribly dark. At least there was a scattered pile of preprepared torches to light the way. A permanent odor of limestone and fractioned corpses assaulted your sinuses, dried puddles of blood seeped into rock, the scurrying critters who used dragons as hosts echoed with a twinkling charm - the least menacing reminder that you were not alone.

Claimed dragon chambers varied in size; pitstops along the winding pathways that ended at the largest chamber - a dead end. While other chambers were large enough for sometimes several dragons, this final stop could only be described as a jarring, stomach churning, hauntingly pitched ebony abyss of incalculable depth that played tricks on the mind. An abyss. It was like you were staring Death in the face and anxiety was dredged forth from white hot fear.

With a flickering torch alight in a trembling hand, you slowly stalked down the chiseled causeway that ended several lengths into the expansive, bleak nothingness. Pitch black shadows danced; the air felt electric, seemingly vibrating - alive and judgmental.

The glaring cavern besmirched your family name, hauntingly reminding that your disinheritance resulted in your late dragon bloom. The ebony airy sea identifies and heightens fearful insecurity about your estranged family's rejection, their lack of interest and care for your side of the family stinging; their rejection of familial relationships. The darkness predicted your failure, inability, and humiliation.

The cavern challenged your confidence and determination, your staked ownership and proclaimed lineage; labeling your bravery, beliefs and ambition as arrogant. It sneered about your stupidity, weakness, fear, and anxiety; belittled applied effort and desired goals; questioned your true desires and needs; tested your loyalty.

The cavern rejects any and all attempts before you could even try; unraveling your logic, shunning your emotions; proclaims reactive decisions as immature and lacking control, crowning you as dangerously naïve.

The cavern mocked your desperately pathetic need for station and acceptance; revoking and nullifying public (and private) ladyship, dubbing you unladylike - which, in itself, was insulting to your womanhood. Why do men get all the exciting adventure, but when a woman tries, she's crucified for being irresponsible? Smooth ebony waves reflected your maddening, constant effort and want for acknowledged contributions.

To the naked eye, the cavern appeared uninhabited, assuming the habitat was abandoned. The silence was eery; air buzzing with alarm, deceiving humans that attempted to see through the waves of darkness.

To a "true" Targaryen, this was just a sheet of camouflage the fire breathers wield for their privacy.

No wonder the Red Sowing was so... Bloody and devastating.

A growl was heard, something gravely and deep, intimidating and impressive. You frozen, eyes wide as if it would give you night vision, torch flickering, hands starting to shake. Then you saw prominent movement, lungs stalling and heart hammering. Slowly, a large, scaly, stained snout emerged at a sail's pace.

The more the beast stepped into your sight, your mind could only scream one thing - was coming face to face with a dragon logical or emotional? Because whether logical or emotional, this was a dumb fucking idea there was no turning back from.

So, you steeled yourself in position, dewy sweat lining your forehead to soak your hairline.

112 years After Conquest, dragons flew to war at the behest of the Targaryen family over Rhaenyra and her half-brother's claim to Aegon the Conqueror's Iron Throne. Sister-wife, Queen Visenya, rode Vhagar - said to have been the smallest dragon with bronze hide, yet, as rumor had it, still large enough that a horse could ride down her gullet. Sister-wife, Queen Rhaenys, rode Meraxes - who was larger; big enough to swallow horses whole with silver scales and golden eyes.

Then, The Conqueror, King Aegon Targaryen I, rode Balerion - the fiercest and largest, who’s wingspan could shadow entire towns, swords-long teeth assisting his ability to swallow mammoths whole, and who’s scales, wings, and fire were pitch black. Balerion was called the Black Dread and was so powerful, he could melt steel, stone, and fuse sand into glass. He never lost a battle - against human or dragon.

Balerion was also the dragon responsible for the Burning of Harrenhal, largest castle in Westeros.

In the year 2 BC, Aegon began his Conquest and engaged King Harren Hoare the Black in his keep, Harrenhal, who refused the Conqueror and was met with Balerion’s flames. In fire so hot, it melts stone like candles, the entire House Hoare was extinguished when Harren and his sons perished in the largest tower - later named Kingspyre Tower - though it’s said they haunt the Wailing Tower.

Since then, of Aegon's Three Dragons, only Meraxes boasted a single rider, but to be fair, in 10 AC, during the First Dornish War, allegedly, both Queen Rhaenys and Meraxes met their demise. Vhagar knew Prince Baelon Targaryen, Lady Laena Velaryon, and Prince Aemond as riders. Balerion knew Maegor the Cruel, Princess Aerea, and King Viserys, who, in the year 94, retired The Black Dread - thinking the beast was nearing his end. The dragon outlived every single rider.

In the year 129, Viserys died and The Black Dread stared you in the eye; curating a vibrating rumble deep within his chest that made the darkness dance. It'd been decades since anyone dared face this terrible beastie, thinking he wasn't long for this world; the pair of you curious about the other, no moves made yet.

There was no backing down, there was no turning away. This is what you wanted, for Aegon the Conqueror's mount to see you as you are - worthy of your of blood. You refused to be told you did not deserve your lineage, the Targaryen name, you would not endure disrespect any longer! You would earn your place in this Godsforsaken family, earn station in this Godsforsaken world, or die trying...

That night, Balerion took to the skies again, doing several laps in the air, soaring over King's Landing to let the residents of the Realm know - he flew again.

Your father's family hailed from The Reach, specifically Highgarden; colorful, temperate, lush, bountiful, and abundant. Your family oversaw 75% of the country's sole wheat, barley, grain, and corn production, even germinating the country's most grand gardens - which decorated a rather generous estate.

Despite the vast, open lands, there had never been need for a dragonpit before, so, when you landed your mount, he was left exposed on the outskirts of the Keep. Considering he was the largest thing, you know, ever, Balerion seemed content out there - so, you didn't worry.

It was strange, however, to see anyone without white hair on dragonback. Even stranger to the Realm to learn of your accomplishment; adding fuel to several fires.

The Green King Aegon asked lazily, a hand waving in the air, "Who?"

His mother, Dowager Queen Alicent Hightower, reminded, "She is of Targaryen seed on her mother's side, but was raised under the Tyrells. She sits to inherit all of The Reach, she will be Lady of Highgarden - "

"Until," Grand Maester Orwyle interjected softly, "her young brother, the Young Lord Tyrell, comes of age."

Aegon waved their words off, complaining, "Yes, yes, but why do we caaaaare about some red headed bitch?"

See, where the Targaryens had trademark white locks, the Lannisters had golden strands. The Starks had deep umber brunette color hair, and while both the Tully's and Tyrell's erred more on the reddish side, the Tully's had darker overtones, like an auburn, and the Tyrell's had lighter, coppery-amber waves. North of the Wall, they say "kissed by fire".

"Because Lady Tyrell has laid successful claim to The Black Dread! To Balerion!" Alicent snapped, quickly adding the snarky punctuation, "Your Grace."

"Well, we have Vhagar - "

"With respect, Your Grace, Balerion could give a singular chomp to any living dragon as Vhagar did Arrax and it would prove fatal," Otto Hightower, the King's grandfather and Hand, quickly stepped in to save his daughter from losing her temper.

"Well, she doesn't even speak High Valyrian," Aegon scoffed, rolling his eyes; lip curled, slouched in his chair.

"Neither do you," Aemond quipped in his Father's Tongue.

Otto continued loudly to prevent Aegon's response, "With The Black Dread now officially out of retirement and in play, the only choice we have is risk facing him in open battle, or..." His eyes shifted to Alicent, pausing, sighing and revealing, "Send an emissary to negotiate terms of an alliance."

"Meaning...?" Aegon drawled.

"Meaning a marriage pact, Your Grace," Otto supplied sternly.

"With respect?" Larys Strong spoke up, "But the Crown is lacking in their eligible bachelors for such terms."

"Or perhaps, what of someone outside the family? Marry two strong allies of the Crowns? Alliances henceforth might not have to include Targaryen marriages," Jason Lannister threw in quickly, but every Small Council member denied him just as swift.

It was reminded, "There's Prince Daeron."

"Lady Tyrell is actually the same age as Prince Aemond, I do not think she is looking for a husband so many years younger than her."

"Didn't Prince Aemond already secure the Baratheons through a marriage alliance?"

"Technically," Otto agreed slowly, "but given the circumstances and turning of tides, Lord Borros can be treated with in other ways should we need to offer Aemond for Lady Tyrell's willing support."

"Rhaenyra will send terms, as well," Alicent reminded. "Lady Tyrell is Prince Jacaerys' age, she might consider breaking his engagement, too."

The Small Council continued their plotting. Prince Aemond remained silent. Nobody so much as threw him a glance.

When the Black Queen Rhaenyra was informed of your heroics and your identity was questioned, her uncle-husband, Daemon, informed, "Daughter of the Forgotten Princess."

And Rhaenys affirmed, "My sister's daughter... Do not mistake her lineage for guaranteed alliance; her mother and I are long estranged, she's lived in The Reach her whole life - she does not know us. Nor owes us any loyalty."

"Perhaps she could be persuaded," Corlys wondered. "The Lady Tyrell is unwed, is she not?"

"As far as accounts go, yes," his wife reported.

"Perhaps a marriage alliance?" Corlys glanced around the table.

"To whom would you propose?" Queen Rhaenyra asked, all sat around the Painted Table.

"If I may be so bold...?"

"Please."

"Given your marriage to Daemon and his daughter's are shared with our own daughter, Laena... Is there truly need for a marriage pact between the children?"

Rhaenyra cocked her head, "You mean to... Disengage my son from his intended, and engage him again...? Like a pawn in chess? My son, Heir to the Iron Throne, married to Lady Tyrell?"

"Why do you sound displeased by the prospect, Your Grace?" Corlys wondered. "I hear the Lady Tyrell is most beautiful, and we need the Tyrell's wealth like we need their dragon, Balerion. If used properly, he can melt castles alone, Your Grace; burn towns, extinguish entire bloodlines, torch this country, melt the bloody Wall. No living dragon rivals him in size, in ferocity, in age nor experience. He's been at rest for decades now... Something tells me there's a reason he's come out of his nest."

"An omen," Rhaenyra agreed, straightening her spine.

"Precisely - the portents are cast, Your Grace."

"Lord Corlys makes a point," Daemon chimed in, "if by marriage, we secure The Reach and take back the Iron Throne with little to no carnage. Should the Greens fight, not even Vhagar could stand against Balerion."

"Prince Jacaerys is a handsome match to offer," another lord agreed, "which should help sway Lady Tyrell to our side."

"Which also frees both Lady Baela and Rhaena for other pacts - if need be."

"But if we have had this thought, I promise so has Alicent," Rhaenyra stood from the table, staring at the triangle of King's Landing, Dragonstone, and Highgarden. "Who would they offer? Who do they have, unwed, unpromised?"

"Well," Rhaenys stood to meet her Queen, "if we had the thought of a marriage alliance, and the thought to break off one engagement in favor of another, who is to say the Greens would not consider the same?"

It was quiet, a shiver shooting down the Queen's spine. "Vhagar and Balerion are familiar with one another," she grit her teeth, "and Aemond is the False King's brother. He's an attractive match, too."

"I think it's worth making the Tyrell's an offer," Corlys sat back in his seat. "They will receive us both and decide their allegiance - just as the Baratheons did, just as the rest of the Realm has or must do as well."

"Let it be done - if Prince Jacaerys agrees," Rhaenyra nodded, looking to her son - wanting his consent and participation in his own fate. Jace proudly lifted his chin and puffed his chest, nodding while nobody noted the looks of near relief on Lady Baela and Rhaena's faces. In a moment, they had been engaged to Jace and Luke without their thought, input, nor consent. In another moment, they were single young women with the tantalizing prospect to marry outside the family.

"I consider Her Grace's offer an honor."

> > > next part, part two: read here

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

The Black Dread masterlist

i'm already writing it, but, poll for the end ―

413 notes · View notes

fhrlclln · 21 days

Note

I don’t usually do ask but I DESPERATELY need a qimir au smut😭 idk about what but I just know I need it

in the darkness | qimir

SUMMARY -> abandoned by her own family and order due to her curse and having no husband, they leave her on a remote planet surrounded by water and grey clouds, as said in her cruel prophecy that her supposed betrothed awaits for her there to take her. but this husband of hers is no ordinary man as he always wears a mask.

qimir x fem! reader

masterlist

GENRE -> nsfw/smut

WARNINGS -> eros & psyche inspired au, unprotected p in v, mutual masturbation & sensory deprivation

WC -> 6.09k

a/n: hope this satisfies your req, anonzz!! sorry it took so long for me to write!!

likes, comments and reposts are greatly appreciated !! <3

enjoy !!

the waves thrash against the rocks as the harsh winds blow across your face.

you clutch your cream scarf tight around you, the grey clouds loom above you menacingly and you can smell a storm coming. you blink wetly, your chest feels heavy and you feel somewhat terrified and betrayed. your father had forced you to wait here, leaving you behind with only a few words of a sorrowful goodbye. you couldn't blame him really... you knew you were cursed, as said by the elders in your order your family is apart of.

"you would never know love with that darkness inside you."

you could not understand what that meant. you were a normal child growing up, always following your family's footsteps and obeying the order. what darkness shrouds inside you? that it would forbid you to love or be loved.

"but someone will want her darkness and they will be waiting for her in a place surrounded by endless water and shores filled with grey sand. her betrothed awaits there, that is her destiny."

you thought for a moment that your supposed prophecy was just a means to make your family usher you to find a husband, for in your age you were supposed to be married by now. all of your sisters were bethroted and you were the only one without any prospect. your mother had been disappointed that you being the eldest was unwedded and you were the shining beautiful daughter she prided in, putting a lot of expectations in you. yet, after the elders had announce your cruel oracle, none of the possible suitors wanted your hand anymore which made your mother's frown deepen.

and you, in-fact, were more displeased in yourself more than anything. you had wished that you were born different... born normal. alas, you couldn't change your life. and here you are, waiting by the grey rocky shores, standing by the waters crawling up to gently touch your sandaled toes. you breathe in the sea air, anxiousness clouding your mind.

who would want you?

or instead... what would want you for you and your darkness?

the anticipation lingers as you watch the sky slowly turn more greyer. was night falling? was that how long you have been waiting on this deserted planet? the hurt inside you grows, and you shiver at the coldness of the weather. your lips tremble, and you curse yourself for being this way instead of living a perfectly normal life in coruscant. you look to the horizon of endless oceans, you had to accept you were either going to die alone on this planet or suffer the loneliness if you will yourself to make this your new home. you now stand up, opting to walk by the shores before the night captures the dull grey sky.

"are you her?" a feminine voice suddenly asks from nowhere. you halt from where you stand at the sudden presence of another person. "are you the wife my master was promised to?"

you turn your head around to be met by a young woman dawning a dark purple cloak and a wool black and grey gown underneath. her hands are clasped in front of her, you look up to her face but you are only met with her eyes that were slightly covered by her hood and her braided hair. the half of her face down is concealed by a bandana similar in color to the clothes she wears. you blink, registering her question and throwing away the curiosity in your mind about how she managed to appear in thin air moments ago.

"...yes." you merely answer with a soft and slightly questioning tone. her eyes do the talking and she seems relieved. you wait, curious to know who is she and what she is to the supposed "betrothed" of yours that she calls her master.

"come, he's waiting for you." she gestures her head to the caves up the island's hills. your gaze follows there, and a chill runs up your spine when you see the dark opening of a cave. someone is watching you. you look back to the strange woman and nod. she walks first and you follow. the gravel is rough underneath your feet in each step you take. you stay quiet, not knowing what to ask of the mysterious woman.

the path to the cave opening was an easy one. You should have noticed a dirt path when you first walked around the shores, and you wonder why you hadn't turned your attention to the rocky hills then. You look beyond the mysterious woman's shoulder and see that you are almost nearing the cave. you let out a tiny sigh of nervousness, and your mind conjures scenarios of what may lie ahead when you meet your husband-to-be.

will he be kind?

would he hurt you?

would he be neglectful?

"my master awaits for you in here." the mysterious woman's voice snaps you back to reality. your breath hitches, and you nod as you look ahead to see only darkness in the cave. she steps aside for you to enter and you step forward. before she could leave you behind, you stop her for a moment.

"I didn't catch your name." you said, and she halted her departure.

"mae, you can call me mae." she answers, her tone light than before. you nod and offer a small smile in response.

"thank you, mae." she nods at you and leaves you alone to face the prophecy of what lies inside. you almost wished that you had asked mae to stay for a while until you entered the vast darkness in front of you.

enough stalling now. your mind scolds you, and you finally take a step in despite the pounding rhythm your heart is doing. The darkness envelops you for a moment, but as you take small steps forward towards the little light at the end, you are met with an unexpected sight of a well-furnished room. the interior walls were of the caves,' but the interior looked like what your home used to look like in coruscant. it felt... nostalgic in a sense. you stand in the middle of the supposed living and dining room, waiting as you look around.

"hello?' your voice echoes throughout the home. you wait for a response, but your eyes catch an unusual object on the wooden dining table. you walk towards it, feeling an unexplained sensation of something pulling you to it. your gaze is attached to the peculiar object and once you near it, your mind is curious to see a saber of all to catch your attention. the saber was like the elders' in your order, similar style, yet somehow this one had a gravitating and oddly weird aura. you lift your hand to touch it, yet a voice scares you.

"you are a curious thing, aren't you?" a deep modulated voice interrupts your curiosity. you jump at the sudden presence of another. you swiftly turn around, clutching your hand around your scarf. you were met with the sight of a masked stranger dressed in black robes. a poncho-like robe concealed most of his stature, but the peek of his arms made you feel relieved that he was human.

this is your betrothed, then.

strange he's wearing a mask.

"forgive m-me." you meekly say and step away from the table. you hear him walk towards you and your heart skips a beat.

"welcome, wife." he greets you, and you look up at him.

"thank you, husband." you nod and your eyes roamed to examine his mask. it was eerily scary seeing how it had multiple lashes, and the design made it seem that it had teeth. but... you can't help but feel more comfort than fear for this mysterious husband of yours. this was entirely different than what you were dreading when you were alone by the shores.

"are you hungry?" he asks, and you shake your head. your fingers fiddle with the hem of your scarf, feeling shy all of a sudden. despite his mask, you could feel a smile creep behind it. he takes a step to you, and you avert his gaze even if you can't see what lies behind the mask.

"do i frighten you?" he cocks his head to the side, curious about your reaction. you momentarily glance at his masked face, wanting to question why he doesn't let you see his face yet you look away, not wanting to offend him.

"no, j-just... nervous." you confessed.

"why?" he asks, and you shrug.

"not to you! i mean, i'm nervous about what lies ahead... about all of this. it's baffling to think i already have a husband that i haven't met or known yet." you sighed at yourself, fearing you have ruined your first impression towards him. "sorry."

"you don't need to apologize. i completely understand your reasons." he assures you, and your shoulders drop at the sudden relief.

"what about you? isn't this prophecy of mine baffle you? that you would want my..." you try not to say that word that has been thrown around on your face.

"it doesn't." he suddenly holds his hand out, and you glance down in curiosity. "i am looking forward to knowing you, wife. whatever the prophecy might say."

you don't have words for that. even though his voice is robotic and you can't tell if it's genuine, you know he speaks the truth, somehow. you slowly raise your hand and place it on his waiting palm, and sparks ignite when the rough callous of his hand touches yours. it felt warm inside that this mysterious person had accepted you despite what was said.

and you feel like this is the start of a life you always wanted now.

・゜゜・．

the days passed since you have been living on the remote planet with your husband. you have grown a tenderness for the mysterious man even though you both barely know each other. he was kind, that was given, caring in a way you never expected, yet he was secretive for the most part. he would always go out, but he would still remind you before he departs, yet he never tells you what he does. in the days that you have been adjusting in his home, there were unwritten rules, or rather what he implies, that you have followed as you got to know him. you two did slept in the same bed, but for the first few days, he gently told you that he'd let you sleep alone for comfort. once you had told him that you were fine and you two were technically married in a sense, he did agree yet he strictly had said the lights had to be turned off.

that was one rule. you never should turn the lights on once he lays with you. and the second was mostly obvious...

you aren't supposed to see his face.

you always wondered why and you did ask him this night as you two readied for bed.

the room was pitch black, you were snuggled in the shared blanket as you felt his body near yours. the sheets shuffled, and you bit your lip if you should ask him the question repeating in your mind. your heart thumps as you hear him let out a relaxed sigh; you wish to see him, yet you know better than to not respect his one wish.

"why do you wear a mask?" you asked, feeling nervous, but eager to hear his voice than the modulated one.

you hear him chuckle; it makes your chest feel tight and how deep and raspy it is. "many reasons."

"can you tell me one?" you ask again, feeling courageous. his voice was beautiful to hear the first time you heard it. and it made you even more curious to see his face that matched his voice.

"why do you ask? are you eager to see me?" he teases you and you pout. he chuckles again, and you wonder if he can see your reaction despite the darkness. you are about to turn your back to him, yet you are surprised when an arm wraps around you, pulling you close to his body. your hands instinctively go to where his chest is, and you are met with the touch of smooth, warm skin. you feel hot all of a sudden as you feel his chest rise.

"for your safety, you can't see me." he merely says, and you blink at that. "i don't wish to put you in any harm."

"why? are you... ashamed of your face?" he laughs at that, a heartful one, and you are pleased to hear it. his hand caresses the side of your waist, and you shiver at the feeling; your legs rub against each other, and you wish to see his smile. the warm feeling of his body against yours, with the shame you can't see his face, is starting to get to you.

"on the contrary, i am not ashamed of my face, wife." his raspy tone makes you squirm for a bit as his hand caresses down to your hip. his touch wasn't foreign to you this moment; he had been respectful the first night when you two slept together, opting for distance. but as the days passed, you two had grown to entangle with each other. you both are technically married, and you knew at some point that this would become normal. but you can't help but mourn the fact that this came with the obstruction of the pitch-black room, even though it brought you comfort still. you loved it, the feel of his body to yours.

"i understand." you say to him as you lay your head on his chest. you sometimes hope you'd catch a glimpse of him in the morning but he always woke up before you. you dismiss the other questions in your mind you want to ask him, you need to show him that you wholeheartedly understand his reasons, no matter how vague they are.

"what do you want to eat for supper tomorrow?" he casually asks and you nuzzle your face against his skin. "will you be cooking?"

"mhmm, can you pick up a couple of cooking herbs? I'm hoping to make a stew for you." you respond, eating times were also a big disappointment for you. you always would eat first, and he would eat after, but you still cook for him, knowing he loved your meals from how he would always if you would cook again.

"alright." you feel his face nuzzle against the top of your head. this affection you two had made was astounding to think that you both were already acting like a married couple in mere days. even if you barely know what he does, you do know small things about him. he often bathes in the lagoon, since he would always smell like the sea. he likes to walk along the shores, and sometimes you'd join; you know that he was like a teacher to mae, saying that she's a student of his. you also know that he apparently is a heavy drinker, judging by the bottles of alcohol you'd see by the counter. and that he's also been living alone on this planet for a long time, and he apparently hates the rain.

"good night, qimir." you yawned, saying his name sleepily. and you also knew his name. the name was unique, and somehow, you felt like you heard it before.

"good night." he whispers softly as sleep takes the both of you.

you wake up suddenly from a strange feeling that's poking against your bum. the darkness still is blinding your sleepy eyes but you squirm at the strange sensation. qimir's chest was pressed against your back, and his arm was lazily draped across your torso. his breath tickled the nape of your neck as you unconsciously push your hips back, wanting to get rid of the object poking your rear. did he forget to take off his belt? you thought as you sleepily sighed, still squirming in his hold.

an elicit groan from him fully awakens you and you freeze in place. qimir's arm tightens around you, his hips suddenly press against your rear, and the poking sensation makes you ponder for a moment if you should wake him up. you close your eyes, still wiggling your bum until a tingling sensation on your neck stops you.

"stop moving." he whispers in your ear, hoarse and... agitated? you're confused for a moment until he softly traces his lip on your neck again. your eyes widen at the realization of the moment, and you suddenly feel embarrassed.

"sorry." you whisper back as you lay your free hand on his arm. "h-have i awoken you?" you try to mask the quiver in your voice of how close he is and the thing of his poking your bum.

"no." he answers, but there's a beat. "...maybe."

you're about to apologize again, but his lips suddenly trace from the nape of your neck to the side wherein he hovers above a particularly sensitive spot.

"you've been moving in your sleep." he says. "bad dreams?"

"not really." you confessed, and he suddenly kissed the sensitive spot on your neck. "q-qimir!"

"do you want me to stop?" he hoarsely asks as his hand softly traces the plane of your stomach.

"no." you immediately answer without much thought than to feel more of his lips and his addicting touch. his hand moves downward to where your ache is, the ache that has been pestering you for the past few days since you had been living with him. your mysterious husband, one you desperately want to see his face than his mask. the one that you have been imagining day and night since he welcomed you into his home despite the cruel curse that has been placed upon you.

"i have been holding back from touching you like this out of respect... but it seems like i have deprived you, my wife." you gasped when his hand gripped your nightgown as he scrunched it up to your waist. your grip on his arm tightened as his hand delved down to the center of your thighs slowly. "i did, did i?"

you could only nod slightly as he nipped your soft flesh. "please..."

"you sing so sweetly for me." he groans as his fingers are met with your wetness. your legs open slightly and you could feel him grind his crotch slowly on your rear.

"husband..." you whined when he rubbed soft circles on your pulsing clit. you wondered how he managed to do this in complete darkness. you let go of his arm, wanting to do something for him. he continues his ministrations as his other hand moves to fully embrace you since you were still laid sideways from him. his hand gripped the soft flesh of your breast while the other pleasures your core. your back was flushed against his hard chest whilst he grinds his hard cock against your ass.

you let your one free hand touch him from behind, it was a little uncomfortable that you had to find the prize you were seeking, but once you felt the tent of his crotch touch your fingertips, accompanied by his low groan, you immediately palmed his clothed cock slowly. the darkness of the room was making your senses sharp. even though you mourn not seeing his mouth open in pleasure from the way he is breathily moaning against your ear due to your hand palming his cock, it did make everything feel more heightened. his scent envelops your senses with his warm body heat has you letting out more noise with the way he's rubbing circles on your clit.

"want you inside of me." you moan out as your hand massaging his prick searches for the hem of his wool pants. your hand glides down from his abdomen to be met by the warm flesh of his cock. you grip him, and he bucks his hips toward your hand with a breathy moan. qimir removes his hand from your dripping cunt while you pump his aching cock.

"open your legs." he suddenly says, and you squeal when he suddenly grips the underside of your thigh and lifts it up. you obey him as you spread your legs slightly for him. you remove your hand from his crotch when you feel him shift in his position to lower his pants down. your heart is beating loudly and the anticipation gnaws you. the act of marital duties wasn't unheard of you from your sisters, your mother would always put on a strict lesson for them of what to expect on the night after their marriage.

a prodding sensation touches your wet entrance and you brace yourself, not entirely sure what to expect. you almost expect qimir to fully take you, but you are surprised when he rubs his cock slowly, making you let out a pleasurable sigh.

"you smell so sweet, so pretty, so beautiful..." qimir huffs as he positions the tip of his cock to your entrance. "and all mine."

you let out a moan when you feel him enter you finally. he's gentle and slow in the process, ensuring you were comfortable. he wraps his arms around you tight, as if you were going to leave. you feel your breasts spill out of your top as the cool air hits the skin of your chest. he cups one and pinches your nipple as he fully sheathes in you. you grind back, feeling full. the darkness of the room is a pleasant sensory sensation, you thought you would be disappointed at the aspect of not seeing him. but he made it pleasurable, which makes your heart skip a beat for him.

he thrusts into you at an agonizingly slow pace that has you pushing your hips back to him. he alternates gentle bites and sweet kisses from your neck down to the slope of your shoulders. you close your eyes, wanting to feel all of him as your free hand finds its way to his hair. you want to touch him as well, and you feel satisfied when you interlock your fingers with his soft hair.

both of you don't know how much time has passed. you both were too into the heat of the moment, not wanting to rush things but to just feel each other. your walls clamp around him as qimir's thrust went from being slow to now setting a steady pace. your moans and his groans fill in the void of the room. you could feel his thumping heart from your back and he could feel your heartbeat under his hand.

your mouth hangs open in pleasure. you feel yourself nearing your high as his other hand dives down to rub your clit. you call out to him, and he calls out to you. he fastens his thrusts, cock hitting that spongy spot in you, and you soar high. he lets out a moan of your name when you squeeze him tight with your orgasm. he shakily thrusts into you, and with a loud groan, he follows through, fucking both of your orgasms into completion. his cum spills on your walls, painting you with his seed. your wetness coats his cock entirely and he halts his thrusts, feeling spent like you are.

a moment of silence transpires, heavy breaths are only heard. his cock is snuggled inside you, and you feel exhaustion and sleep taking over. he loosens his arms around you, still holding you close. you hadn't realized that a small smile graces your lips as you feel him kiss your neck, soothing the intense aftershock. you caress the side of his face, and his lips touch your fingertips. nothing else is said other than sweet caresses and kisses on the skin. sleep seems to take both of you as you let exhaustion null you to sleep.

・゜゜・．

you feel like a whole new person waking up after that night. you were only disappointed to see your husband not by your side when you had awoken. but the sweet soreness of your legs and the dampness of your core were enough to rectify your displeasure of him not being beside you in the morning after. you wobbly did your morning routine and dressed yourself in one of the dresses he had gifted you, a black dress that matched his clothes and your own jewelry, and draped your cream scarf around you since it was cold.

once you had properly dressed yourself, feeling a little giddy when you looked in the mirror to see marks on your neck from his doing. you went out of your shared bedroom and were surprised to see mae sitting by the dining table. qimir was by his workbench, wearing his mask as usual but dressed in clothes you knew he would be going somewhere.

"good morning, mae." you smiled at her, and she nodded at you in greeting. her scarf that concealed her face the first time you met her was gone. you could now see her truly, which made you happy. if only your husband would do the same.

"good morning."

"do you want something to eat?" you asked her, going straight to the kitchen to prepare something for yourself.

"no need. i already ate..." she says, yet there's a concern in her voice as she looks at you. "are you alright? you look tired."

your cheeks heat up all of a sudden. "y-yes, i'm alright. why do you ask?"

"you're walking funny." she points out, and you hear your husband let out a robotic chuckle. you feel embarrassed as you shoot a glare at qimir from his workbench. mae stays silent, a little confused, but you change the topic, noting that they both seem dressed for something.

"are you two heading out?' you ask, and mae nods.

"i'm preparing a lesson for mae in euda. it shouldn't take too long as she will need to learn it herself." qimir answers you as walks towards where you stand. you nod in understanding, finishing up your breakfast.

"will you be here before supper?" you ask him, since sometimes he'd be late.

"i will." he promises as he caresses the small of your back, knowing you ache below. mae watches the both of you with subtle curiosity, and qimir seems to sense this. "wait by the ship, mae. we'll leave soon."

mae nods. "yes, master." you wave goodbye to her as she heads out. only the two of you are alone at last. he presses himself against, and it makes your heart beat loudly at what he's doing. you tilt your head to see his masked face, but you can feel his tension.

"come back safely." you softly say to him as you turn around, and his hands drop to your hips. he squeezes them as your hands caress his chest.

"always." he assures you. the way he's touching you makes you want to kiss him. and you suddenly realize you still haven't kissed him yet. you already had him inside you and the thought of you two not sharing a kiss baffles you. before he could leave, you stop him.

"i want to kiss you..." you pout and his grip on your hips tightened. "for luck."

you see his chest rise and you smile at that. his other hand lifts his mask up slightly and you watch in anticipation to see a peek of what he looks like. he holds his mask up and you are met with the sight of his pink lips surrounded by facial hair. you thighs clench, knowing that those lips were the cause of the marks that are on your neck.

"are you just going to stare at me, my beautiful wife?" a grin spreads across his pink lips. you roll your eyes as you tiptoe up, wrapping your arms around his neck to finally kiss him. his lips are soft against yours. you let out a noise when his hand gripping your hips pulls you close, and he deepens the kiss. you moan, almost wanting to pull him inside the bedroom, but you let go, and he seems to chase after your lips, which makes you laugh.

"go, mae's waiting." you could see him pout before he adjusted his mask to cover his entire face. you feel a little disappointed he has to hide again. he lets go of you, and you watch him leave, feeling happy. but the gnawing curiosity of what he looks like still itches you now, even if everything is perfect.

・゜゜・．

in truth, you knew in yourself that the one forbidden rule he had said would come to you. you feel guilty that you are still thinking about it... but how could you not? you lay beside him in the darkness again, your head laid on his naked chest and your body pressed against his. you convinced yourself you can live like this with him, that you can learn to love him even if you would never see him for what he is until you die. qimir made everything perfect despite there being clear flaws. you can't sleep, you feel restless, and the desire to see him is strong, but something else bothered you.

"you would never know love with that darkness inside you."

those were the first words the elder had said to you when she prodded into your mind and future. you were terrified... would you know love with qimir? you haven't spoken to him about what your prophecy truly is. and it frightens you to think that maybe this would all fall apart because of you. your brows furrow and a dark feeling encapsulates your chest as something calls out to you.

you lift your head gently, feeling through the room, careful not to wake your sleeping husband. the strong hum of the force calls out to you, so familiar that you cannot place what it is, but you know where it is. you quietly detach yourself from qimir, trying your best to make as little noise as possible as you guide yourself to stand up and let the force guide you. your feet walk on its own and you are pulled to somewhere in the dark room.

your hand stretches out, and you feel cold sweat envelop your whole body when your hand grips a metal object. you let out a shaky breath, and your fingers grip it as your thumb presses against a button. your eyes widened as a red glow enveloped the pitch-black bedroom. you gasped, you were holding a saber. a lightsaber with its color that was forbidden in your order, for it tells a story of its connection to anger, hatred, vengeance, and all things that were forbidden. you freeze in place, seeing that the hilt of the saber is familiar. it was qimir's-

"my love?" you turn around quickly to hear your husband's voice, still holding the illuminating saber. you watch in horror as the red glow reveals his face.

he's beautiful. his face is chiseled, his skin is smooth, and his messy black hair matches everything. even if red illuminated his face, his dark brown eyes are a wonder to stare at.

and you recognize him.

"qimir-" you were cut off when the saber in your hand suddenly flew out and landed on his outstretched hand. his black hair is messy, and his eyes shine a pain of betrayal towards you. your heart stops, and guilt washes over you for what you have done. he switches the saber off, and the darkness meets you again.

"wait, qimir!" you call out to him as everything happens so fast. In the blink of an eye, the bedroom door opens with light, filling the dark room again. you watch your husband without his helmet leave hastily and the one thing you feared most comes to you.

he's going to leave you.

your eyes water as you rush to follow him. a sudden gush of harsh winds makes you falter when you see that the front door of the cave has been opened. you follow still, desperate to make this right for him. you huff, stepping out to see the blue hour of the day. your eyes scan down to see him walking hastily towards where the lagoon is- to where his ship might be. your chest feels heavy as you quickly ran to get to him before he leaves.

stupid, stupid girl. the cackling noise of one of the elder's taunts you in your mind. always playing with the darkness.

tears stream down your face. how could you do that to him? the one thing he asked for you not to do, and you completely disobeyed him. your feet ache as the gravel wounds your bare soles. you see his figure near your line of sight, you had to make this right. you love him-

"qimir! p-please! i'm sorry." you sob out. he suddenly halts in his steps, his grip on his saber tightens and you fear for the worst. will he kill you? now that you have seen him. you stop in your steps as your chest heaved with utter sadness and guilt.

"you can't see me. you're not supposed to see me- why did you..." the hurt in his voice pains you.

"i'm sorry." you bowed your head, ashamed.

"i-i..." you aren't sure if you should say something. you knew his face back in the order, one of elder vernestra's students in her stead. the one that disappeared one day without any trace. rumors that he went rogue on the order, communing with the dark side of the force. and rumors that the order threw him out. while you were by the sidelines, doing your duty as the eldest daughter, you had seen him around years ago in the temple in coruscant. he was a knight and you remembered when one of your sisters gushed about a handsome knight coming out of the temple. tall, black hair, a charming smile, and a skilled warrior. you never once dallied with your sisters' hushed talks about handsome men. but he made everyone stare at him when he entered a room. it's a shame you can't remember his name back then, but all is pieced together now.

"and now you know where i fleed. you must have a lot of questions." he sighs as he finally turns around to you. your heart still beats loudly, seeing his face now. you stay silent, unsure of what to ask him.

"i don't have any." you decided, and that surprised him. "i'm sorry i did that."

his brows furrow. "that doesn't matter now. don't you understand? i am the one the elders of your order who warned you all about-"

"i don't care. you're my husband." you cut him off as you step towards him. his chest rises when you near him as you shakily place your hand on his where he still grips his saber. "they don't matter anymore, qimir. i haven't been in contact with them since i've been here."

"really? did you know that they threw you away as well. haven't you wondered why they suddenly placed a prophecy upon you?" he asks, and you think about that momentarily. he was trying to let you see the seriousness of it.

"i know..." you nod, deep-down you knew why they carelessly threw you away. maybe your own insecurity had taken over when they had said that to you, and you believed them.

"when i heard about your ridiculous prophecy, i knew they were using you to find me." he confesses, and you frown at that. his other hand lifts up to caress the side of your face. there's a tenderness in his eyes, and you understood why he chose not to let you see his face.

"but it seems like i find myself not caring about that anymore."

he looks deep into your eyes and you feel the weight on your shoulders lighten. "i love you, my beautiful, beautiful wife."

"i love you too." you say to him as you pull him down for a kiss. the morning sun shines between you both, no need for hiding now. qimir happily reciprocates the kiss, dropping his saber to the ground as he scoops you up in his toned arms. the salty breeze of the planet is a nice touch to this tender moment, wherein all are finally coming to peace.

and you were right, this is the life you always wanted now.

#qimir #qimir x reader #the stranger #the stranger x reader #qimir smut #manny jacinto #the acolyte #fnhrlcllnwrites #eri’s request box 📦 ｡･:*˚:✧｡

274 notes · View notes

the-monkeies-girl · 4 months

Text

Head First. ( Noa x Human! Reader.) Part Four.

man i may as well write a whole book lmao

Title: Head First. Fandom: ( Kingdom of the ) Planet of the Apes. Rating: T. ( Tiny bits of fleeting injury mention, some mating innuendos. The same as the rest of the series lol. ) Words: 7.3K ( Holy SMOKES- ) Pairing: Heavily Implied Noa x Human!Reader ( HEY WE MOVED UP A BIT ) Summary: You could grovel. You could beg forgiveness for being offended... Or you could just wait in silence for Noa to speak. They all seemed like such good ideas. READ THE SERIES HERE.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・

Silence fell over the two of you, a consequence of the circumstances you supposed. Not supposed, you knew better, but that’s just how you put it to keep the guilt at bay, to keep it from eating you from the inside out. Fingers finding a new home in the rocky sand underneath your body, you contemplated and tried so desperately to reason with the part of yourself that was telling you to gravitate closer to him, pull yourself nearer, let him know with just your body that you were sorry, that you couldn’t bear to be without him.

Scoffing quietly at that, your more rational side came back with its own rebuttal. Just talk to him. It’s the least he deserved after the cold encounters you’ve had since your hunting trip. The stares of conflict from across the communal dinners, the times when you were with Soona, having to stand down and excuse yourself if you saw Noa approaching, the intense scrutiny Noa found himself in when you had turned your attention towards him. Scrutiny not just from you anymore. He could feel it coming from Anaya now who had a true lack of understanding. That’s how Noa urged himself to feel better after the argument earlier in the day. No, no… He shook his head and shut his eyes for a moment. The disagreement earlier in the day. That was better.

The sun setting was nice, you thought numbly to yourself in some subtle attempt at not letting your eyes dig into Noa. The way that the sun dipped in shades from bright oranges near the horizon, all the way to the fluffy and pink nature of the clouds that were hovering so delicately over the landscape, maybe ready to turn for the worst as it was the time of year for those storms to brush the area during the early evenings and into the late nights. If only you were in a different juxtaposition… You would look at that setting sun and beg to think that it was a romantic setting if you weren’t so aware of the choked tension floating between one mind all the way to another.

Pulling your hands upwards, you wrapped them around yourself and traced the lovely nature of those clouds with your gaze, clasping your elbows and smearing dirt to your skin as a result of your hands previously being buried in the Earth. It appeared like you were a small child, looking at Noa, how tightly sprung together he was, and decided to take the same position yourself. Your ribs pressed against your knees as you pulled in on yourself. In no way was it comfortable but there was a calming sensation that rolled over you at the idea of squeezing yourself out of existence. There was nothing tying your eyes to the sky and they fell like a hardened raindrop to the Chimp in front of you.

The way that his shoulders were dominoing in, the way that his breathing was slow, pensive and full of thought. Fur was a bit on edge, raised around his shoulder blades and on his neck. He had acknowledged that you were there when you first stumbled upon him. He hadn’t heard you move away so the safe assumption was that you were both sitting in deafening silence out of pride. Which one was more stubborn, Ape or Echo?

Deep down, you hoped it was your resolve that was going to persevere.

You had to be judging him, he figured and out of mild self-deprecation, he’d in turn think that he was deserving of that… Deserving of you scolding him with the heat of your gaze, deserving to never be in your presence again… How he just wanted to be near you again, even if it was in dull conversations that served no consequences from either one of you. It should have stayed that way, Noa beckoned to himself, a bemused chortle hitting the back of his throat at the idea. Flicking the water with his fingers, he watched as a ripple effect took hold and scattered like the wind along its surface. It should have stayed simple… Should not have ever happened, he spent so much time now convincing himself that the feral pull he had towards you meant nothing, and that he just wanted to go on with his life. You didn't want to be with him. He didn't want to be with you. Apart, separated by years upon years of misunderstanding and battling cultures.

Despite trying to convince himself otherwise, his feelings were the polar opposite. It made him ache, pulling at a part of him that he didn't even know existed. A part that would disappear the day you decided to leave the Eagle Clan to go back and live a decent life of normalcy, maybe even finding another group of Echo nomads.

Twitching his right shoulder at that, he tried to shake it off. The thought… of you leaving… Noa never seeing you again, Noa never being able to hear your voice in his head, holding out on some immature thought that maybe you’d come back to him. Noa knew that if that’s what you chose, he’d have to stand down and let you do it. There was ultimately nothing he could do to get you to stay, in fact, he wondered at times why you did. You held no bonds here, maybe Soona and Anaya as they were becoming your friends, but other than that? Noa shook his head and huff, chest heaving out hard and then collapsing back in. no reason, no reason at all…

Alas, sitting behind him with that all familiar glow of heated glances laying waste to his shoulders, you were only wondering what was going on inside of his head. You found the fist of judgment coming down harder on yourself than on anything Noa could, or potentially could, ever do to you. If you were to talk to him, what were you going to say? An apology made sense in most scenarios you ran your way through but… You also felt entitled to an apology yourself and you wondered for a split second if Noa was in the same throes of contemplation, essentially playing a game of Chicken to see who would falter first.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・

There was no solace in dreams. You tried to push that small disappointment from your thoughts. You doubted you’d be able to have any semblance of a good dream given the absolute nightmare you just had. Alone in a room with three strange Apes… Chimpanzees, your mind corrected itself, prideful that it was able to remember such a detail. You drew a deep breath in, trying desperately to ignore the burning feeling of your throat. It was screaming for water. Your mouth felt dry too, parched to the point were you felt the beginning of cracks at the edge of your lips. The mild aching in your head returned, most likely now due to a mixture of your injuries and dehydration. All this aside, you didn't want to open your eyes in some hope that maybe you could beckon a dream your way. A good one. Something to distract from your previous nightmare.

Moving quickly, you were sitting straight up with a gasp falling from you body once you felt the pestering pounding on your temple. Grasping your head for a moment, you tried to get your bearings back. It was just a nightmare, you told yourself over and over again. Squinting, your eyes came into focus; slowly but surely you were able to make out mild details in the room. Feeling like you were about to lose whatever sense of pride you had left, you gazed at a form in the corner. It seemed human, at least in the low firelight, and it was moving. At least, shoulders were. You peered at them, tilting your head in hazy confusion. Your body felt like it was crunching with the movement, you knew that to be from dehydration for sure. You just had to think to yourself again; how long had you been passed out?

Shoulders were moving, right right… Shoulders… moving… Hands were doing something, you could tell, seeing a minor sheen coming from whatever they were holding and fixated on. You shook off the grimy feeling of your hair, actually your entire body, and felt your breath catch in your throat when you finally deduced the form to not be that of a human. Oh… Oh! You groaned audibly, grasping at your head again with both hands as it thrusted. It almost felt like your brain was rattling around your skull like it was in a cage it was trying to escape from.

Within a split second, you were face to face with… A Chimpanzee. You wanted nothing more than to move, get away from their stare as they were curious of the nature of your previous sound. It felt overwhelming to move, especially when your head was whirling. When your muscles felt tense, when your back felt sore… You thought about your ankle and the lack of pain radiating from that. Had… Had that Ape… You were having a difficult time remembering their name, had they done something to help your pain there? You remembered the rooty paste splatting on your skin, you remembered there being three of them before where there was only one now. Double vision hit you as you looked down. They were holding something for you. A crudely sculpted bowl of sorts. It was made of clay from the valley, you noticed the deep red color.

What was in it… You squinted again, seeing a ripple of sorts as they finally held it out between your two bodies. There was… Was no way… Your mouth parted and without hesitation, you grabbed it roughly and consumed what was in it. Briefly, their hand lingered in the air before falling back to watch you. Water dripped from your face, drawing themselves into the cracks that reside on the corners, down your chin to drip onto your lap. You wanted nothing more than to place your entire body into water, but the water from the bowl did well enough. Lifting a hand, you wiped the remaining traces from your face and placed the bowl down next to you. Your head was still beating, but as you came to incredible and appreciated lucidity, it slowly tapered to an ignorable throb from your temple.

Noa. That was the name of the Ape here, you recognized him from the details of his face from his pure proximity the first time you woke up. Soona and Anaya were the other two. Two males, one female. You were impressed with your ability to remember despite passing out shortly after processing the fact that you had been saved by them. You stopped moving at that, staring at him in front of you as he placed his body down to sit. They had… Saved you. They could have very well left you there to die, they very well could have taken it upon themselves to take your life, it would have been incredibly easy because you were already on the doorstep of death.

But, they made the choice not to and went through what you imagined to be a rather difficult transverse, to bring you back to their Clan and heal you. Well, to an extent. How much about injury did they know? Obviously, enough to get the spear head out of your leg. Enough to get the bleeding to stop with a paste, that you deduced must have had natural numbing abilities for the bottom half of your calf was of lesser feelings as opposed to its thigh or foot counterparts.

Swallowing, you finally felt good enough to talk. Felt good enough did not equate to actually talking as you still held a frantic force of hesitation; rightfully so you thought to yourself as you saw Noa move, this time being able to actually process how he moved, how he was quick to grab the bowl from you, how he traced back to the corner of the room, hand free but his other appendages were what was keeping him in his hunched position. You could hear him filling the bowl back up, returning just a second later. He handed it to you, flinching back at the mere ferocity you had grabbing it and consuming again. Water fell down your face again, this time getting caught on its way down along your neck. The water shone and reflected against the firelight. Noa noticed you didn't take any time to wipe the water off this time, his attention being drawn back to your eyes that had not left his body once.

“Many days asleep. Three nights… two days. Night now.” Noa looked over at a window that led to the outside. If you focused, you could hear a bit of a bustle. Hoo’s, hoots, hums… So many types of sounds and they were surrounding you. There were more Apes. Obviously, you mentally slapped your forehead. Obviously there were more!

You processed his words, trying to get past the gruff nature of his voice. He was obviously well versed to speak verbally, but from the awkward placement of his tone, it sounded like he wasn’t used to speaking for prolonged periods, or at the very least, used to talking in full sentences or enough to give you insight. At least, that’s what you assumed. He was telling you how long you were out. You figured that his analysis included the few minutes you woke up in a panic before subsequently falling to oblivion again. “W…” You started and felt your throat almost collapse in on itself out of fear of appearing vulnerable. But, out of your own mental sanity, you needed just one more answer from him, “What happened…?”

Noa hesitated. He could answer one of two ways. Honestly or less honestly. Honesty; it would be the truth. Soona, Anaya finding you half dead from being hunted, Noa then proceeding to tell them that the Eagle Clan did not kill, even mercy kill. Taking you back to the Clan, forcing his friends to transfix with him as he pulled the spearhead from your leg and urged them to help him keep an eye on you. Urged them to help him help you. Less honesty; it would be the same as the truth, maybe taking away the meager details of Noa forcing his friends to help. He contemplated and figured that in your Echo nature, you would always assume the worst and think that his force towards his friends meant that they didn't want to help you and you could potentially take that as a way towards assuming they were ultimately going to kill you once Noa wasn’t there.

So, he went with the less honest truth.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・

‘I do not understand.’ Those four signed words left you reeling, almost chomping at the bit just to get the confirmation that he was actively not ignoring you and that your speculation was correct. He was deep in thought, waiting for the moment when it was all tied together neatly. When he could talk without another fumble, or at least, hope that another mistake, another mis-interpretation, was far off in the distance. He had fumbled with you once. He had fumbled with Anaya and tried to keep that out of his mind, pinning that he would find a way to solve it once he got his issues solved with you.

It had taken some time, the sun now dropped behind the curve of the Earth, the only light now being that of lingerance, beams sinking into the cold blue sky that had shifted to that color in the blink of an eye and replaced the previously enjoyed oranges and pinks with its first tease of glowing lights that speckled the heavens on a nightly basis. You felt cold, goosebumps rising themselves along your bare arms as the mild chill of the dead night began to set in despite it still being light evening. Baited in anticipation, you weren’t sure if your goosebumps were from the brisk air or from the excitement it gave you that Noa was finally talking, albeit, using sign language.

‘Do not understand,’ He repeated and rolled his shoulders once more. His moniker when nerves were running rampant and he had no other outlet available, often choosing to subside and tinker with things than talk them through, “Echo.” Oh, if you could jump with joy without reserve at the sound of a voice, you’d have done just that as you reveled in the sound of it encapsulating your eardrums. You wanted to pull it in closer, closer… Whisper just to me, your senses screamed at Noa, you’re just for me…

Drawing your bottom lip in at the statement he had made, a blend of delicious verbalization with signing, you understood the notion. He was now looking over his shoulder, right at you a few feet behind him. The dark that was setting in now made it difficult to see his expression against the backdrop of his dark fur and with that, he turned back forward and you were stuck looking at his back. Again.

You needed to muster yourself to say something. The bold accusation you had about Noa, thinking that it was all his fault, thinking that you were the one who deserved an apology was quickly thrown out to the wind and carried off. “I’m sorry…” You whispered again. “I-I don’t know why… I got so mad. Offended…”

“Echo is confused of Echo.” Noa observed.

You huffed out a sarcastic laugh but his observation wasn’t too off the mark. You have felt confused now for weeks. Confused since you first talked about romantic love. Confused at the feeling spurred deep inside of you listening to Noa talk about rabbit mating, confused by the entitlement that you felt, wanting him to only look at you when his attention was elsewhere contradicting the absolute befuddlement you got when he looked at you… You picked your body up from the ground, shaking a few small pebbles and sand off your backside as you trailed towards the Chimp, quite on your feet but you knew he was aware of your body and its placement. If he could be the first to talk, you could be the first to move. Compromise, right?

Noa acknowledged you, tilting his head briefly towards you as you bent down before his focus drifted back towards the water, this time, making small traces along the waterline with his gaze. You were confused when he looked in you. He was intense with his watching, bordering on absolute obsession. It felt like it left burn marks on your own irises when you made eye contact. He was grabbing your throat metaphorically, hot in his hand, small in his hand, and forcing you to drown with him and you never stopped it. You… You didn't want it to stop.

You wanted nothing more than to grab his chin and force him to look at you in this moment, but you feared the repercussions. Noa snapping himself out of your touch, Noa refusing eye contact, mimicking you when he asked you something you didn't know how to answer, refusing to… to… Your hands had balled into small fists as you crouched down next to him. Not sitting, you were teetering on balancing yourself on the balls of your feet.

“It is… my fault.” Noa was quick to draw the blame solely on himself. It was habitual behavior, you noticed he’d rather apologize himself and get it out of the way rather than point the finger at someone else. You wondered if that was a quality his Mother had as opposed to his Father, the late Leader of the Eagle Clan, who from Noa’s words, was courageous and did what he could to save his people.

“Push… Pushed too far with Echo, Anaya was right. Should have known better, Noa should have known, should have never---” He came to an abrupt stop, not willing to give either of you the satisfaction of his next words but they still teased at his tongue in a bid to just admit. It pulled him in for a second with the promise that it would feel better if he just told you how he felt, what was going on but on the other hand? Absolute chaos could ensue. You could reject him, you could choose to find another, either Echo or Ape. What would Noa do then? He felt uneasy in the pit of his stomach like he was in freefall.

He’d suffer, he’d never find another mate, he wouldn’t want to. You weren’t even his mate now and he’d vow to never find another unless he won the chance with you if you gave him the option. Hm… Noa didn't sit with that word now… If.

Pessimism went a long way, much further than optimism.

He was unraveling faster than he was able to cope with and it left you to back track and replay what he told you a few times. Details were spilling you had no idea about. When did he talk to Anaya about all of this? What did he tell him? What did Anaya tell Noa? Swallowing hard at the prospect that Anaya now despised you, you shook it off and looked down at your hands. Noa was careful, you were sure he selected his words with Anaya and you weren’t going to lose a friendship… or two.. You glanced at Noa. Whatever kind of friendship this was. Were you even friends? Or just a naive Ape and a scared Echo who had mutually understanding that it would be beneficial to tag the notion as friendship, just to supersede and stroke both their egos? You didn't want to think about that; about the idea that Noa was just using you for the human knowledge you had and it was nothing more than surface level. Maybe, he was pitching a fit because if you didn't talk to him, he didn't get information.

You felt a burning sensation at the back of your throat as you tried to stifle down any attempts at crying. Noa hadn’t ever seen you do that. He had seen you melancholy, sad at times but never actively crying. Did Apes cry? Did they know what it meant? What would Noa’s response be? The emotional release was seducing you, one tear at a time as they began falling from your eyes, rolling down your cheeks in utter silence before catching a ride down and collapsing against your hands below. Quickly, your hand shot up upon feeling wet and you were wiping your eyes and telling yourself to stop… Stop, stop, stop. Noa would just feel worse if he knew you were crying, if he saw you crying in front of him.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・

Eyes stared longingly at the window as sunlight drew its beautiful face into the room. Finally, after what felt like eternity, you could see the room for what it was. A small wooden structure, walls slanted in to a point at the very top but with enough space left to vent, letting smoke of the fire escape without smothering the occupants. A very simple but a very sophisticated design. There was a pile of items in the corner, none of which were instantly recognizable other than the jar that held the paste that so deliciously kept the wound on your leg from bleeding and from general feelings of pain. It was incredible and you wanted to ask what it was but felt it stepped over whatever cordial boundary was set by Noa, by his Clan.

The last three days were incredibly… Boring. You hadn’t been permitted to leave the space you had become so accustomed to save for the occasional guarded times you were let outside to relieve yourself. You didn't get much for your bearings from doing that, the times you have, it was either too dark out and you found it difficult to really assess the village, or Noa purposefully kept his entire body in your line of vision. You had to bark at him the first time, explaining that it was private when he didn't turn away, your hands freezing as they made work to unbutton your pants. He didn't question and turned around quietly and paced forward a bit, perplexed at the severity of your demand.

Privacy, he noted, was a virtue it seemed, at least for Echo’s. Who was he to deny when he had no alternative motive? You hadn’t been allowed to bathe, only eating when Noa supplied you with sustenance, three times a day, on a schedule it seemed. You were lucky to have your backpack with you and were silently grateful to Noa and his friends for not discarding it. It held your clothes and a few small personal effects. If you couldn’t bathe, at least you could have a change of clothes. One dirty pair to another slightly less dirty pair.

He was never late for your meals, showing up at sunrise as the sun peaked itself onto your eyelids, spurring you out of your sleep, at mid-day when the sun tickled your shoulders and right about now, when the sun was flirting on the horizon and threatened to disappear. And he never stayed longer than he had to. He’d watch you eat, never taking in the pleasure of eating with you as it would give cause for Anaya or Soona to presume that Noa was bonding.

Your meals were usually a few pieces of roasted fish, some berries, and nuts in the morning and evenings, your mid-day meal being a bit more light on the fish with a flashy assortment of roots of varying colors. Some brown, some purple, some red. Potatoes, maybe? Whatever it was was good enough to eat. Simple again, and it kept you energized enough to heal your body.

Luckily, the banging from your head subsided yesterday and only hurt if you were too fast to quirk your neck in movement. The bruise on your shoulder blade was nothing more than a light pink, the burns around your wrist from rope was healing tenderly into a small line of pink. They might completely disappear if they chose not to scar you. Your leg was doing its best with what was given. You were just thankful that it didn't have any adverse signs of infection.

As if at your beck and call, Noa propped the door open with his free hand, sauntering rather gracefully as he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. Made from simple thickets of wood bound together by some twine, it looked lighter than it actually was, the weight behind evident in the small grunt that Noa made handling it with one hand. Feeling your stomach churn from excitement, you were quick to take the bowl once he offered it to you in his usual silence, not anticipating much back in return. You didn't converse outside of him asking how your calf felt, asking if you felt better. He was surprised to hear the utterance of a tiny ‘thank you’ under your breath and it left him feeling bewildered.

You went for the nuts first; always the easiest as they came to you already deshelled. Eagerly placing them in your mouth, you almost groaned out of satisfaction as your teeth came crunching down on them, the noise reverberating in your ears. Licking your lips, you peered over at Noa who was back to his usual spot. The corner, he must have had a good view to watch over you from there. Able to see if you’re gravitating towards the door, able to see if you’d even consider crawling out the window.

Huh, you hadn’t thought of that but now that it was in your mind, it wasn't terrible--- You stayed quietly still, watching with confusion as he placed a bowl in front of himself, hunching his rather broad body down and picking at the contents. Was he… You tilted your head and felt your fingers brush over some berries. One smooth, one a bit fuzzier. Blueberries and raspberries, you figured. There was no way he was eating with you, right?

Drawing your pointer finger to your lips, you licked it and made eye contact with Noa, who in his fit of confidence that shifted him to eat with you, watched the movement with a vague sense of perplexity, green eyes narrowing as your tongue sapped the juices of a berry off your fingertip before you dropped your hand back down, now slightly encased with saliva. Noa watched it glimmer as it caught the light of the sun rays before you picked at the berries, searching for another red one.

Echo’s were weird, he kept telling himself and tucked into a piece of fish. He’d be absolutely foolish to not notice your eyes on him. The way they seemed to glare as he took a bite, canines more evident than ever as he tore apart the skin of the fish to get to the tasty meat inside. He made it look so easy, you felt a pang of jealousy at how slow you were to dismantle the fish. You avoided it; picking now at the berries and nuts, not sure if your lack of hunger was from actual lack or the fact that Noa was sharing a meal with you.

“Do you…” You perked up at the sound of his words, mustering a tiny reverb off the walls of wood around you. “Not like?”

Ah… You slid yourself to sit cross legged and looked at your bowl. He must have noticed you taking less interest in the fish. Noa knew it wasn’t like you to skimp. In fact, he was pretty adamant about getting you to eat, knowing that it would somehow aid in your body’s ability to heal. The faster you heal, the faster you can be released, was always the feeling you got for him, no personal attachment to the situation outside of not wanting you to die. You didn't answer him right away, staring contently at the food he so graciously gave you day in and day out.

“I um…” Drawing your bottom lip in, you chewed at it roughly. Enough to leave indentations of your teeth against the sensitive skin, but you reminded yourself not to go too hard otherwise you were going to end up with a mouth full of blood from breaking the skin. Noa took note of that action. Nerves, he had figured out. You did that when nervous, put on the spot. “I-it’s good.”

How were you supposed to make small talk with an Ape? What were the common grounds you could find? Obviously food, Noa brought it up first. The weather? Oh! Your hobbies, of course. He must have wanted to know all about those, you murmured sarcastically in your head. You had no idea the social etiquettes of Apes and it was evident with how he held himself that Noa thought the same about Echo's.

“Can show you,” He manifested right next to you, causing your heart to jump into your throat. You tightened your shoulders and looked at him, mouth open in surprise as you simply didn't see him abandon his spot to come sit next to you. Were you really that deep in thought? "How to take fish apart."

You blinked once, looking down at his hands as he was now holding an entire fish in his grasp. You blinked twice, bringing your eyes back up to captivate his gaze with fleshed out fear but simmered curiosity sat behind that. He had to have seen it sitting so close to you, the proximity leaving very little threshold. It was apparent that personal space was not a concept to him, but you took mild interest in the way his breathing collapsed against your shoulder with each out-stretched exhale. Wordlessly, you nodded and he began a very intricate breakdown of how to work around the skin, work around the bones… You watched him, flickering between both his hands and his face, like a child being taught something new. You retained nothing from the lesson, more perturbed as before. He was so… remarkably human.

A part of you shifted with uneasy thought.

Maybe… He was more like you than you cared to admit.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・

Luckily, you were able to stave off crying audibly but now you dealt with the consequences of your eyes burning from the tears still lingering behind them. You fell back from the balls of your feet harder than you anticipated, bringing your body in to sit next to Noa. You weren’t going to move for a long time, you decided, maybe even pulling yourself into a tightly sprung ball and just sleeping by the creek rather than making the trek back to your make-shifted nest for what you would assume to be a rather fitful night of sleep. Laughing to yourself, you thought you’d sleep better on the cold hard ground rather than in your securely knitted bed.

What you so desperately wanted was for the Ape next to you, your shoulders brushing once with loose connections, to take you into his arms and pull you into his nest for the night. You’d let him, you’d let him hover above you in devotion, crashing down on you like waves of the ocean, you’d let him sleep next to you in comfort to drift to a place full of dreams… Your knuckles were flushed with white as you had tightly curled your hands into fists, a violence shaking through you at the unsatisfaction that you were more than likely never going to experience those things with him. A reality that was set in motion the moment you met. The day he chose to save you instead of letting you die like you were supposed to.

“Noa does not understand Echo…” That was a clear moment of self-admittance and it stung a bit to think about. You shared the same sentiment but had the impression that Noa already knew that and was focusing on his own turmoil in hopes that maybe it would solve yours as well. You had given him so much but so little at the same time. So much about your humanness, but not enough about your own self; shutting him down completely the moments when conversations turned too personal. All personal items he knew about you came from picked apart conversations between the two of you, conversations he pretended to not be invested in when you talked to Soona, Anaya and even his own Mother. He was always listening, always holding himself out to get more, more…

He wanted it with such fever, such carnal intent that he’d consider begging for it but never did out of self-reservation and some sickening idea that he was too important to do that; his mind would yell at him. He was the leader, he was the Eagle Clan. He should only make others beg, he should only make his Eagles follow his commands, Noa wasn’t built to take them from others. But, if you asked him to? If you commanded Noa to beg? Oh, Noa would grovel on his knees just for a speckle of your attention, just for an insight to you, not just as a figment in his imagination anymore, but as a real possibility, an avenue for him to take.

Your fingers twitched in desperation to touch him. Just a sparing graze of your fingers along the bridge of his brow, a fluttering sensation of your hand against his bicep. There was that incentive to comfort but he was giving you nothing to work with. He was still rigid next to you, his breathing paced and steady. If he were putting effort into making it so, he was covering it up very well. Swallowing back a lump that had formed in your throat, you scooted closer to him and let your shoulder make brief contact with his own. Thick fur tickled at you, primal feelings resting in your spine to just lean fully against him, knowing he’d let the weight of your body collapse against him and he’d hold you in place. That’s what you thought would happen in your mind; nothing from Noa gave you intent to think otherwise. He’d probably let you fall if you did that, not understanding the pure intimacy of the gesture.

“I…am sorry. Should never have asked… about mating… ” That tore you out of a mild daydream. Noa’s voice came out softly as opposed to the usual awkward placement he found himself in trying to form words.

Acknowledging the apology for what it was, you sighed a small bit and nodded in acceptance. Noa saw it out of the corner of his eye. So… That was that. You both apologized, you both looked out at the creek in front of you, watching as the water lapped its way across the landscape. The sun was gone, the sky was turning from that lovely blue-ish purple to a deeper setting midnight navy. Soon, there was going to be no illuminance to see the features of his face next to you, to trace his furline on his brow, to sweep yourself in the intensity of his eyes… Sighing gently, you shuffled next to him once more, shoulder bumping rather than grazing.

“I never have.” You said to him with a flash of a smile more at yourself than at him. You were trying to keep yourself calm and grounded, trying to convince yourself that you were doing the right thing by opening up. By admitting something to him that no one else knew about. “Mated… You uh…” Drawing your bottom lip in, Noa sunk happily into that. Some sort of normalcy back in this whirlwind of two weeks that took almost all his willpower to overcome. “Asked me about… that the first time we really talked. I never answered you and I--- I should have…”

Quietly, Noa turned his attention to you, green reminiscent of leaves with dew on them burrowing holes into your own. Whatever it was that you were doing, groveling, bargaining… He didn't want it to stop as the sound of your voice drew him back to some realm of peace and when you turned his face to continue speaking, he could feel your breath against his cheeks, against his eyes and he shut them for a moment to relish in the sensation. “I had nothing to hide with my answer… You… Were just asking me a perfectly acceptable question.” You laughed, “I mean, I’d want to know if you were mated in case they came for you.” Pausing at how stupid that must have sounded, you gave him one bit more, taking the entire concept of the last few conversations into your own hands, “ I’ve never even been kissed. Wh-When I told you all about that.. I don’t even know how it feels.” You laughed a bit at that. The concept of embarrassment hitting you like waves. Now he knew. Now you knew he knew and that was okay. What Noa chose to do with the information was now the question in the air.

“Thank you…(Name).” He was soft beside you, the nature of your name coming out of him sounding more enticing the more it replayed in your mind, starting the moment it hit your ears. This was the first time he called you that, and not their rudimentary ‘Echo’. With widened eyes, you looked at the side of his face, trying hard to find what he was thinking, how it must have felt to say your name… Was it good? Did… did he like the sound of it? Your mouth fell into a state of awe, almost slack jawed. You wanted him to say it again. Your hands grasping at his fur in your head. And again. His hot fur against your body. And again. Him making you his.

You nodded at his gratitude, unable to verbally say anything in fear that you were going to absolutely come crumbling down. Slowly, as the way he said your name beat its way around your skull, you began convincing yourself to get up and go back to the village for the night. All these thoughts despite the gravity pulling you to Noa. It wasn’t meant to be this evening, Noa must have figured the same and stood beside you. He was fast with his actions, holding a hand out before you even garnered enough energy to get your legs moving. You looked at it right in front of your face, admiring the longevity of his fingers for a split second too long.

With a surge of unfamiliarity resting in your stomach, you granted permission and a few seconds later you were holding onto his grasp and he was hoisting you up with ease like you weighed nothing more than a little leaf. Staggering once your feet planted on the ground, you were oblivious to your hand adjusting itself away from Noa to grasp at his forearm to garner you some balance. You were closer than you had been in quite some time, nearly chest to chest as he could have very easily poured himself right over you. But, as soon as brisk contact was made, it was lost and you felt your hands momentarily reaching to bring it back as he had been the one to move, now a few paces ahead of you, leading the way back. You followed obediently, not even beckoned.

‘Talk tomorrow?’ Noa signed at you once in visible light from the many spires of fire around the village. You traced his hands with your eyes and nodded wordlessly, feeling a sense of vibration hit your senses. You were either really tired or really wired. You had a feeling it was the latter, only accelerated by the way that Noa was staring at you. Deep in thought it looked like his green and golden orbs were hiding behind the dilation of his pupils. Your confirmation made him swell a bit, his chest broadening at the idea of seeing you in just a few hours time. There was a silence that fell around the two of you. There was no one else around, well… Noa tilted his head and peered into your nest for a split second before quizzically looking around. There was no one at the creek, but now the idea hit him. You could invite him in, you could ask him to stay, you could…. How he’d love to fall inside with you. He opened his mouth to speak, “I---.”

“Do you want to come inside?” You asked gently to him, your voice wrapping him in chaos. You… Wanted him to come in? Maybe, you were just being polite. He knew that from time to time you did things that made you uncomfortable for the comfort of others, Noa recognized it well because he was the same way. Or was it… having read the look on his face and recognizing he must have processed your words from earlier, he now had questions he wanted answers and wouldn’t sleep well unless getting instant gratification?

He hoped he wasn’t that easy for you to read otherwise the conversation pieces in the future he wanted to delve into were going to give away a lot of his inner thoughts. Admittedly though, you were on the same boat and wanted to give him his answers which spurred you to invite him to join you. In your personal space. Alone. With… Just… Noa… The back of your head zinged. Your ears felt prickly, your feet felt heavy, your breathing picked up but oddly enough, your lungs felt like they were full of water.

You couldn’t stop now though- Your eyes watched as he shifted himself onto all fours and he settled himself inside of the small hut you had made your home. Wordless, but just as graceful with his body as he always had been.

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・●・○・ Tag list: ( tumblr i am begging you please tag these correctly or i will cry ) @ohwaitimthewriter @hera-annwn @saturnnie-03 @filliandkili

@hadesbabygurl @supergoat12 @moonchild1433

@kaenalsha @unsteady-bitch @whamsworld

@yummyfanta @nuhteyam @babylockley @edynmeyer1 @callsignwidow

#noa #noa x reader #noa x human reader #kingdom of the planet of the apes #planet of the apes #planet of the apes x reader #owen teague #pota #kotpota #emmy writes #fanfiction #fanfic #noa pota

368 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month

Text

The Depths 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: fisherman!Geralt of Rivia x artist!reader

Summary: your sleepy existence is thrown into chaos by a mysterious man.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The water crashes onto the coast. The sound is dulled by the distance of your perch. The sky melds into the lake's surface as the sun hides behind a swathe of clouds.

You lean in to squint at the strokes on the canvas, sweeping your brush in repetition of the rippled horizon. You use the wnd of the brush to scratch your cheek.

Almost...

You peek above the easel and watch the small speck growing larger as it moves across the water. The fishing boat is there so often that you've added its silhouette to the acrylic tides. A stalwart to your early mornings and listless afternoons.

Day after day is layered before you in shades of cerulean, slate, and lavender. The grey sky with a tinge of golden sunlight, the waters stirring in sparkling shades of aquamarine and pearl, the coast rippled in fawn and umber. Another eye might see it and deem it finished but not you.

You step back to let the paint dry and rinse your brushes in the jar. Hmm. You're out of clean water.

You close up the easel and hook the canvas on the backside, carrying it like a briefcase as you pick up your canvas bag with your roll of brushes and pots of paint, your palette around your index finger.

You make a slow descent down the cliffside and curl around towards the shore. You veer away from the dock and head down into the silt. You put your stuff on a flat rock. You take the used brushes and palette to rinse in the shallows.

The water laps over your sandals as you linger in the soothing cool foam. The approach of evening skews the water with emerald and jade. You shake it all off and step back to dry it with a paint-blotted cloth.

You rearrange the bag so it all fits and hook it over your shoulder. You look down at the your linen apron. You can recall where every splotch and streak came from.

You take your easel and canvas and head back up along the dock. As you reach the post, the fishing boat knocks against the other end. You peer over at the man that lays a board across the spanse between.

You see him every night. You couldn't forget a man with snow white hair and golden eyes. His age is less than his locks might suggest and his eyes seem to look through you, not at you.

You smile, like you do every night. He doesn't react. Just like every other time.

The smell of fish wafts in the boat as he drags his net across the wooden ramp. You turn and press on. He's much to busy for you. It doesn't bother you. You came out here to get away from people.

Your feet leave divets in the dirt as the rock of the boat knocks in a rhythm against the dock. The man's toil adds to thunks and thuds and they fade behind you. The peace here is immaculate, you wouldn't want to ruin it for anyone else.

Past the seaside houses left vacant in the colder seasons and the smaller basins of the lake, between the rocky ridges and grassy knolls, you return to your little house.The cornflower paint chips from the wooden siding and the stairs are worn in the middle from the tramp of feet. A bench stands on the other side of the white railing between a plinthed flowerpot and folding table with a book forgotten on its slats. Home.

The spindly wreath on the front door rattles as you push through and the screen door snaps behind you. The evening breezs drifts in through the mesh as you set your easel down and rest the canvas on crate just beside the mat. You put your bag in front of the wooden stand and bask in the calm.

You hang your wicker hat and untie your apron. Your hands are covered in paint. You'll wash them before you eat. You leave your wet sandals at the door.

You pull out the pot of chowder you made two nights past from the fridge. You put it over a burner and wait for it to warm. The fare lasts you near a week when you take the time to put it together. Every ingredient must be used to its last, especially when it is so far to market. And expensive.

You scoop out a bowl and eat it on the front porch. Your eyes are too tired to read. When you finish, you recline on the bench and yawn. You lay in the dimming hue of the evening as the stars wink down at you.

A whistle carries on the wind. You sit up and look for the culprit. They are close enough to hear but that could still be far. It could even be a bird.

You take the empty bowl inside and rinse it. You retreat to the bedroom and change

You open the window to let the night in. Around here, you can do that. Not like the city and its grated windows.

You laze in the dusk shade and drift slowly into yourself. Sleep enshrines you atop the cushy bed, the water stirring from afar, the loons calling into the dark. Tomorrow you'll figure out the exact right colour for the undertow.

You're more than due to sell a new piece. You need to if you want to stay in paradise.

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt of rivia #dark!geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #the witcher #au #series #drabble #the depths

183 notes · View notes

wynnyfryd · 10 months

Text

Trailer park Steve AU part 23

part 1 | part 22 | ao3

cw: alcohol, recreational drinking

Steve fusses with his hair in the side mirror again, tugging awkwardly at his borrowed clothes. He feels stupid, standing here fidgeting in the parking lot like some kind of nervous freshman, but half of Hawkins seems to be here tonight and Robin’s got him dressed like a loser — worn green flannel and a ripped black tee with a faded picture of The Smiths. Jesus. “Did you really have to dress me like this?”

“What? You look cute!”

“I look like I raided Jonathan Byers’ closet.”

“No, you look like someone a certain neighbor is going to be drooling over all night.” Steve’s grateful for the dark then; for the blush it hides on his cheeks. “It’s not my fault you don't know how to make a deal; if you wanted to borrow a specific shirt, you should have said so before we shook on it.”

“Besides,” she ignores him when he rolls his eyes at her, “you wouldn’t even let me smudge eyeliner on your lower lash line like I wanted to, so I really don't feel like you’ve earned complaining privileges.”

“I’ll complain if I fucking want to,” he grumbles under his breath. He runs a hand through his hair one more time, then forces himself to look away from the mirror. Rolls his shoulders back and down. “He’s not even here, anyway.”

“Ah-ha! So you did check.” She links their arms together, starts dragging Steve across the uneven gravel, her ankles wobbling in her low-heeled boots. “‘Just looking for a good parking spot,’ my ass. God, I’m always so right about everything. I'm, like, cosmically correct. I should really play the lottery next time I visit my grandparents..."

“Uh huh.” He’s not sure what luck and correctness have to do with each other, but sure.

She stumbles over a rock; pushes into his side, grinning, “I’m serious! I’ll play the lottery, and I’ll win big, and then you’ll see. Might even split my winnings with you if you’re nice to me.”

“I’m literally so nice to you all the time, but okay. Can’t wait to take half your earnings when you get ten bucks off a scratcher.”

“Hey, five bucks is five bucks! That’s like an hour and a half of our lives.”

Jesus Christ. “That’s just depressing.”

They walk arm and arm down the narrow footpath to the party — ferns brushing their calves, dry dirt beneath their shoes kicking up tiny clouds of dust — and as the path opens up Steve sees the place is packed. More packed than the overstuffed parking lot let on. There are people scattered over the picnic grounds in groups of fours and fives, a full dance floor under the main pavilion; a DJ set up at the front with food and drink stands to the side; a giant bowl of spiked punch; a tower of solo cups; a couple of coolers filled with beer.

In the surrounding grass he sees more tables, more people. A couple of guys he remembers from swim team rally around an arm wrestling match; another group plays beer pong on a brown fold-up table that they definitely stole from someone’s church. There's a circle of burnouts playing hacky sack behind a tree.

The bonfire burns brightly on the hillside in the distance, and beyond that he spots the faint glow of trail lights leading up to a bridge under the falls.

Part of him wants to follow the trail. Shake Robin off, pretend like he’s going to take a leak. Find a nice rocky overhang to camp under for a while.

Listen to river sounds. Gentle slosh; cricket buzz.

Maybe he gets drunk up there alone. Maybe he just enjoys the solitude; lies on a rock on his belly by the icy river’s edge, swirls his hand in frigid water and doesn't dream of dark brown curls.

“Steve?” Robin nudges him. “You good?”

Another, much less annoying part of him reminds him that he’s Steve Goddamn Harrington. He knows how to have a good time at a party.

Who cares if he feels too old to be here, or if it’s weird to see so many faces that used to call him Captain or King? Who cares that he's one smudge of eyeliner away from looking like a full-blown new wave art freak?

He’s not about to slink off to do depressed weirdo wallflower shit when the DJ’s playing Wham!

“Yeah.” He squeezes her shoulder. “You want a drink?”

“Yes, please.”

—

The drinks are strong.

Steve’s pretty sure the punch bowl is a lot more hunch than punch, but there’s still no sign of Vickie, and Robin’s getting that sad little stress wrinkle between her brows about it, so Steve says bottoms up and starts chugging.

They wince their way through two cups each. Robin plugs her nose on the second one like she’s about to do a high dive, and Steve laughs and takes her hand, leading her into the crowd just as Take on Me comes on. The lights all blur together as they shimmy and shake and twirl, moving like a couple of dorks, but Steve’s having a great time. Bobbing his head to the beat; a big, dumb grin on his face as he moves his hips. Robin shouts “Watch this!” over the music, and the next thing he knows they’re competing to see who can bust the worst dance move.

He brings out all the big guns, the full-groan dad maneuvers.

The sprinkler, the lawn mower, the fucking disco finger.

Robin answers with a sloppy attempt at the robot, so he makes up a new move he calls be kind, rewind, and she laughs like a horse and pretends to walk down a flight of stairs.

She’s crouched into a goofy lunge, two steps into the ascent back up, when the song fades out and a ballad takes over. The crowd presses in to slow dance; Robin steps on someone's toes.

“Hey, watch it!” the person hisses.

Robin startles hard; knocks herself off-balance when she tries to stand up straight, babbling, "Oh, my god, I'm so sorry! Are you- are you okay? I'm such a klutz, oh, my god, I'm—"

Steve snatches her up under the armpits; puts her back on her feet. Then he looks up and realizes who exactly she just stepped on.

Well, shit.

—

part 24

tag list part 1 below the cut, let me know if you want me to add you tomorrow (21+ only, please confirm your age if you're asking to be tagged)

@a-little-unsteddie @ahsokatanoss @aliea82 @alyelf @anne-bennett-cosplayer @aol19 @awolfstudio @bambibiest @bananahoneycomb @bookbinderbitch @bronwenmarie @cheonsazu @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @courtjestermunson @cuips-not-cute @dauntlessdiva @dawners @dontwasteyourchances @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple @eriquin @estrellami-1 @fandomfix8 @gregre369 @griefabyss69 @grtwdsmwhr @hallucinatedjosten @hellion-child @hiimlevi @honoragreyskull @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @kas-eddie-munson @kingelyx @lifeisacrisis @littlebluejane @marvel-ous-m @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @milklechee @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @munsonslure @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @phoenixtheone @questionablequeeries @runninriot

#trailer park steve au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic #st fic #robin buckley #jonathan byers #my writing #my fic

633 notes · View notes

utterlyotterlyx · 6 months

Note

4 and/or 25 with Eris, please!

Lost In The Fire

Eris x Fem!Reader

Warnings - mentions of arranged marriage, suggestive comments, lots of fluff

(not spell checked sorry x)

What if you - If you're really about to suggest that I sit on your lap, I will kill you. Don't leave me here alone.

Balls had never been, nor ever would be, your thing.

The opulence that came with them was sickening, a waste of precious resources that could be put toward something more beneficial. The gold on display, the mountains of food that hardly anyone would touch that sat as a putrid reminder of power and wealth, and the stench of ale made your stomach churn with distaste.

You would forever curse your brother, Thesan, for giving you over to the Autumn Court, you understood that you had a duty to fulfil, and since you were the sister of one of the more liberal courts, with unmatched spiritual abilities, it meant that you were a high prize indeed.

You had long lost your usual clothing, red and gold loose fitting robes that still had the power to accentuate every feature you held lay dormant in your wardrobe and had been swapped out for tighter fitting garments in an arrangement of greens and browns and oranges. By order of Lady Autumn, of course.

There would be a day when her title would belong to you, and you always had to look the part.

It was a part you played well.

Marriage to Eris, the Heir of the Autumn Court, wasn't nearly as bad as you had expected it to be. It was lucky that your talents in spirituality were so advanced, and you were also lucky that his knowledge of your gifts was so little when you had first met.

Despite his cold exterior, you saw a small boy within him wanting more than anything to break free from the chains that bound him to his position. It was his only defence against his father. But, he knew that you could see through it, see through him in a way that no one else could and part of him was relieved to finally have someone who could understand him.

Things were still rocky, you struggled with their way of life, something Beron despised and spoke of frequently, saying he did not want you leading his court if you couldn't bend your morals and do what was needed. If turning your back on the people who needed you was too stiff, then you didn't want to be leading his court anyway.

But everything with Eris was good, more than good actually, you had actually come to care for him beyond the requirements of your marriage. Eris had moved your rooms opposite his own to have you closer to him, to have you speak him into newfound calm when his duties became too much; to have you closer to him so that he could soothe your clairvoyant episodes that pounced on you from nowhere.

It was meant to be a marriage of convenience, a marriage to forge new power and bonds and produce a litter of children who possessed both of your abilities. A new path for Autumn, a stronger path.

The clouds darkened on the horizon, the moon poked through their curls and illuminated them with a faint pale blue glow. Lanterns lined the garden paths below your window, Eris had made sure to give you the room with the best view, and you watched idly as high born nobles and invited guests to the nights festivities strolled down the cobbled stone paths arm in arm, pointing at the array of intricately carved white marble statues and fountains littered across the lawns, scattered between the hedges and lush flowerbeds.

Ladies swarmed you, tugging at your limbs and shimmying skirts up your legs before huffing and ripping them down again, tapping your calves to tell you to lift your feet so that they could try the next one. Lady Autumn ordered that racks upon racks of opulent dresses be wheeled into your chambers, it was important that you look your best in front of all of the nobles attending that evening, from Autumn and those from other courts.

Even Beron knew how powerful your opinion was to others, not like he would ever listen to it himself. You had been the one to accompany your brother to the High Lords meeting to find a path forward against Hybern. It was your grace and elegance that kept the meeting from boiling over since you were able to feel the emotions of others and force them to simmer down before they consumed the room. It was you who had been able to tell them all of Hyberns movements which no doubt gave them the edge they needed. It was you who saved dozens upon dozens of soldiers from all courts.

You had been the one to help Feyre with the complications with her pregnancy, you had been there for the birth of her son and had given a kernel of your own gift to keep her alive; it made you a very trusted ally to the Night Court, a friend. Helion wrote to you often asking for you opinions on research and inventions, even went as far as to ask for your input on some new policies he wanted to introduce to Day.

It was stupid to suggest that you wouldn't be the perfect High Lady.

Diplomatic. Gifted. Elegant. Poised.

And Eris adored every part of you that you decided to show him, he basked in it actually.

You weren't really paying attention as the ladies around you tugged at your hair and pulled another dress up your body, fitting it tightly around your breasts and hips before standing back and humming in approval. Then you looked.

An assortment of shimmering golds, burnt oranges and flecks of silver, all weaving between one another like the summer tides. It was sheer, enough to be endearing and elegant but not enough to appear indecent. There was a cut out half sphere below your breasts and the bodice flared upward like streaks of sunshine at the crack of dawn. Even you had to admit that it was a stunning piece indeed. Like a stained glass window glowing with dawns kiss.

"This is the one," your fingers brushed around your hips with a faint smile, your hair was unbound and simple, a perfect compliment to the other-worldly dress you adorned, and your makeup was a picture of dewy perfection, shimmers along your cheekbones and forehead, arched brows, glossed lip. "Thank you," you had dismissed the flock of women as soon as they strapped your shoes to your feet, taking a moment for yourself before you slipped from the room.

The quietness of the hallway was enough to tell you that Eris would already be in the ballroom, no doubt sassily quipping the other High Lords and Ladies with cold eyes and a stiff spine. An act that would melt under your presence.

You weren't wrong.

As soon as you had entered the room, it was encapsulated by you. Feyre and Mor rushed to greet you, stroking your hair and running their hands down your skirts, begging for you to tell them where had gotten it. Cassian bundled you into a boisterous embrace which earnt him a curt jab from Nesta for the inappropriateness, Azriel kissed your knuckles as did Rhys, and Helion kissed your cheek in greeting, muttering to you how beautiful you looked in a hushed tone.

No reaction compared to that of Eris however as he remained glued to his seat with lips agape as his russet orbs scoured your figure, the mere action of his eyes on you making heat rise to your cheeks.

Tables lined the room with benches on either side, all packed with goblets of wine and mugs of ale, platters of food scattered at intricately measured intervals. Only Beron and Lady Autumn sat at the head of the hall, the latter of which examined you with approval.

Everyone had floated about you, stealing your attention from the one you desired to give it to. From Rhys asking you, jokingly, to revolt against Autumn and find sanctuary in Velaris, to Thesan pulling you to the side to inquire if you were being treated well. Helion had updated you on the policies you had so gracefully aided him in implementing, and you found a moment to catch up with Kallias and Viviane.

Then you made your way over to Eris who was wrapped up in a conversation with Lucien and Elain, whose gaze jolted from cold to warm in a split second when he saw your dress glistening in the corner of his eye, "Hello, Embers," his voice was as smooth as freshly cracked open whisky as he prodded you with the nickname he had given you, he thought you glowed, not brightly, but like embers on a dying fire, low and warm.

Eris was extremely proud to call you his wife, not only were you clearly beautiful, but you had a heart of molten gold, people sought you out for comfort and aid, you were graceful and poised, and could change the world with your bare hands if you wished it. It was what he needed, a chance of a real future with the woman he was falling in love with.

He couldn't blame you for your feelings toward him, you didn't exactly have a choice in the marriage but you had tried to make the most of it, and you had let him in and spent more time with him away from the duties required of you. Eris thought that you had finally started to feel a certain way toward him as well, from the faint shine in your eyes when you looked at him to the real laughter that sliced through the fogged atmosphere when he quipped something to you. You made him melt, you made him be who he always wanted to be.

"Hello," your voice was as soft as drizzled honey and your hair fell over your shoulders as you leaned forward to place a kiss on his cheek, a necessary act to display your strength as a couple.

Eris felt your eyes trail down his chest and arms, the open collared cream shirt and chestnut brown jacket and pants; he had styled his hair the way you loved it, tamed but still with a playfulness to it, tousled slightly as if he had been stood on the balcony in the wind for a few moments. "Do you like it?" Eris motioned to his suit with that gleam in his eye that made your knees weak, it was certainly a good thing that he wasn't an empath like you, otherwise he'd know his effect on you and no doubt tease you for it.

Just because Eris couldn't feel your emotion doesn't mean that someone else couldn't read you like a book.

You're blushing, a voice infiltrated your mind and you did well to keep a stoic face against Rhys' shit-eating smirk he was no doubt wearing from his seat across the bench from your husband, with his arm loosely wrapped around Feyre's waist, sipping from his goblet with a teasing glint in his eye. Someone might say you might actually feel something for the man.

Ignoring the voice in your head, you spoke, "I love it, we're basically matching."

You'll definitely be matching when both of your clothes are on the floor tonight.

Go fuck yourself, Rhys.

I don't need to. Not when I have my lovely mate.

The walls in your mind flew up then, trapping his talons against the roof of your consciousness with such force that the High Lord visibly winced and rubbed his temple tenderly.

"You look angelic," Eris stood before you, taking your hand in his and pressing his lips against the back of your hand, dipping low and peering at you through his lashes, making no effort to mask the desire in his emotions.

"Thank you," it came out as a whisper and he placed your hand back to your side, sitting down again beside his brother, allowing you to glance along the table which housed not only Eris and Lucien, but also Elain, Rhys, Feyre, Nesta, Cassian, Azriel, Helion, and your brother, meaning there was no space for you, "I suppose I'll go and sit with Kallias and Viviane," you picked up your skirts to turn away when Eris' hand shot out and secured around your wrist.

Eris' eyes glowed in the candlelight, you could see the flames flickering in his russet orbs that had you in a constant chokehold, "What if you-"

"If you're really about to suggest that I sit on your lap, I will kill you," Azriel choked on his wine and coughed as Rhys and Cassian howled in laughter, even Eris chuckled and ran a hand through his hair at your words, standing to tower over you and cup your face in his hand.

"Perhaps later," he smirked and you visibly blushed at the words, even Eris couldn't miss it and he stroked a thumb over your rosed cheek.

In defence, you quipped, "Maybe I'll go back to my chambers then," the words flew from your mouth and you only realised how they sounded when Eris' focus darkened, the tension between you both was palpable to the point that even Azriel let out a whoosh of air he didn't realise he was holding in his lungs.

"So tempting," he took a step closer to you, wrapping an arm around your waist and speaking a low, rough tone, "Don't leave me here alone, you know I don't do well without you."

"Fine," you strained and he grinned victoriously before ordering his brother and Elain to scooch down slightly to make room for you, and you slotted beside Eris like the final piece to his puzzle, thanking him for the goblet of wine you had taken from his offering fingers and looking upward at Rhys and Feyre who both sent you a knowing glance.

Knocking on the doors of your mind, you allowed Rhys to slip in, doing your best to stay distracted against Eris' hand on your hip that sent fire coursing through your veins and heat pooling between your thighs.

I've never known him to be like this, you know.

Like what?

Rhys' eyes flickered to Eris in examination before finding you again whilst Feyre kept the heir ignorant to the conversation between you and her mate.

Soft. Caring. He loves you, Y/N.

Well, it's a good thing I love him too then.

Rhys smirked, raising his goblet to you to which you clinked against your own, sipping the spiced wine and smiling with happiness at his words.

Eris sighed and turned to you, placing a kiss to your cheek, allowing his lips to graze against your cheekbones and his breath to fan down your neck. The rest of the room had moved on, wrapped up in one another, wrapped up in the ale and music, leaving you and Eris alone and untouchable in your little bubble. His eyes scanned you, sketching every part of you onto the canvas within his mind, "Your presence has impacted me so deeply that I'm convinced that if we never met then something would feel missing," he rested his forehead against your own and his hand gripped your waist as his gaze bore into you, "Don't leave me alone, don't ever leave me," a breathless plea that stole your heart.

"I will never leave you, Eris. I will be here to watch all of your dreams come true, I promise."

Flames danced in his eyes and he became unbothered by who could be watching, "They already are," his finger stroked a line up the curve of your throat as he lifted your chin up, wasting no time in pressing his lips to yours in something you could only call ethereal, so tender but passionate that you felt your heart burst with golden light in your chest.

Eris smirked against your lips, a knowing thing, like he knew exactly what had just happened, pulling away, you gasped as your hand ghosted over the fabric of your heart, "You knew?"

"From the moment we met at that meeting in Dawn," his nose brushed against yours, "You were too busy helping Thesan and keeping Tamlin under control to notice, but I saw you, and I knew I needed you."

"You never said anything."

"How could I?" Eris pressed a kiss to your nose, "You had to fall for me on your own, I couldn't influence that."

You inhaled his scent, of crackling firewood and spiced oranges and sighed, you curled your fingers around the lapels of his jacket and kissed him again, more forcefully, and luckily for you both, the room hadn't noticed your infatuation due to Cassian's well played distraction to give you both a moment, one that you needed.

"I need to get you out of here before I take you on this table," his voice possessively growled and it made you shudder in intense delight.

Rhys watched from across the way as Eris took your hand in his own and pulled you from the room, smiling at the large grin on your face and the faint giggles passing through your lips as he saw the silhouette of Eris flinging you over his shoulder cascaded in shadow onto the white stone floor.

If anyone deserved true happiness, a life of wonder and love, it was you, and it was something Rhys believed Eris was now fully capable of providing for you.

Author's Note

Back from Paris in love with the idea of love so expect lots of fluff coming your way x

350 notes · View notes

mamaestapa · 10 months

Text

Daylight|| Jack Hughes x reader

•pairing: Jack Hughes x reader

•summary: Your best friend makes you realize that love is golden, and not black and white like you always thought it was

•warnings: best friends to lovers, slight angst, smut (fingering I DIDN'T EXPECT IT GO THIS WAY BUT I HAD AN IDEA AND RAN WITH IT OK), but mostly fluff!

taylor swift song imagines masterlist

————————————————

You walked into your apartment in Jersey, the air tense as soon as your boyfriend of two years slammed the door.

"You were flirting with him."

You closed your eyes as you sighed deeply. Here we go...

"Ryan, I wasn't-."

"Don't lie to me. I saw what I saw."

You rolled your eyes at your boyfriends accusations. This was the second night in a row he's decided to pick a fight with you over your friendship with Jack. Pair that with the two other fights he's started this month, it's safe to say yours and Ryans relationship has been quite rocky recently.

"Ryan," you said, turning around to face him, "I don't know what you think you saw. I was not flirting with Jack."

"Yes you were, Y/n!" He snapped, the slight raise in his voice making you jump slightly. He never raised his voice at you, only when it came to Jack. Ryan has always been wary of yours and Jack's friendship. He refused to let you hang out with Jack by yourself, and he always had to know if Jack was going to be there whenever the two of you went out it with a group. It's safe to say that Ryan has never trusted Jack. He has no reason not to trust the middle Hughes brother, he just simply doesn't because of how close the two of you are. When you first started dating Ryan, he made you un-add Jack on both Snapchat and Instagram. You didn't think much of it at first, but it only got worse from there. Which brings you to tonight.

You and Ryan met up with some of your mutual friends at a local bar for a casual night of drinking and catching up. While you were there, Jack and his best friend Trevor, who was in town for a game against the Devils, showed up and joined your group. You hadn't seen neither Jack nor Trevor in weeks, wanting to respect your boyfriends wishes to keep your distance from your friends. The night was going well, everyone was having fun and knocking back as many drinks as they could handle. After about three shots of Malibu and a vodka cranberry, you were pretty tipsy and your judgement was clouded. You ended up spending the rest of the night talking to and catching up with Jack. You talked about the current hockey season and your new job. It felt so natural talking and laughing along with Jack. Maybe it had to do with your past relationship...

A small smile pulled at your lips as you thought about your interactions with Jack at the bar. Ok, maybe you were flirting with him. But Ryan didn't need to know that.

"What makes you think I was flirting with him?" You asked as you crossed your arms over your chest. Ryan rolled his eyes, giving you a look of annoyance.

"Oh I don't know," he said sarcastically, "maybe by the way you were touching him." You scoffed, "Way I was touching him?"

"Your hand never once left his thigh or bicep."

"I was just being nice!"

"Yeah because gripping his body is nice, Y/n!" He seethed, glaring at you with an incredulous look. You rolled your eyes once again, this time making sure he could see them.

"Oh don't start that shit with me, hon." Ryan said, voice rising as he shook his head at you. He moved closer to you, bringing his hand up to run through his blonde hair. However, he did it in such a way that made you think he was going to put his hands on you. You instantly flinched, backing away from your boyfriend as tears welled in your eyes. Ryan narrowed his eyes at you, confused at your sudden movements. His gaze softened as he realized why you backed away from him so suddenly.

"Y/n, baby," Ryan pleaded as he tried to reach out for you, "you know I'd never-."

"No," you said sternly as tears threatened to fall. You backed away from him even more, "I can't do this anymore. We're done, Ryan."

You made your way to the front door, ignoring your now ex-boyfriends pathetic pleas and apologies as you exited the apartment, and texted the person that started this fight in the first place.

~time skip~

Jack was sitting on his couch watching Shameless when his phone went off with a text from you. All it said was: "I'm coming over." He was getting ready to get a glass of water from the kitchen when he heard a knock at his front door. He set the glass on the counter, quickly making his way to the door. He didn't know what to expect when he opened the door, so he took a deep breath before reaching for the handle and opening it.

There you stood, standing in his doorway with red eyes and tear stained cheeks. Jacks heart dropped as he took in your distressed appearance.

"Oh sweetheart," he cooed softly, "what happened?"

"Ryan," you croaked, "Ryan happened."

Jack frowned and wrapped his arms around your body, bringing you into his apartment. Of course it was Ryan that had you feeling like this. Jack never did like him. He thought he was a douchebag with zero good intentions. Jack could treat you so much better than him...

Jack led you over to his couch, keeping an arm around your body as he sat you both down. As soon as you felt the soft white cushion beneath you, you burst into tears. Jack felt his heart break as the sounds of your harsh sobs filled his silent apartment. He adjusted his hold on you, wrapping both his arms around you and pulling you into a tight embrace. You wrapped your arms around Jack as sobs wracked your body.

"Shh," he shushed gently, stroking your back as he spoke, "It's OK. You're OK."

You let out another harsh sob as more tears poured down your cheeks and splashed onto Jack's red New Jersey Devils t-shirt. He continued to console you, murmuring sweet nothings as his hands continued to gently stroke your back. You hadn't told him what happened with Ryan, but based on how you were reacting, he knew it couldn't have been good.

After a few minutes, your sobs eventually died down to the occasional hiccup. Once you were calmed down enough, Jack decided to ask you about what happened with Ryan.

"Y/n," he said softly, "You don't have to tell me, but I think it might help. What happened tonight?"

You let out a shaky breath as you lifted your head up from Jack's chest. You sniffled and wiped the remaining tears off of your cheeks before looking up at your best friend with a pained look on your face. Jacks frown deepened as his eyes scanned over your features. It hurt his heart to see your beautiful face blotchy and wet with tears from your cruel boyfriend. You sniffled once again and sighed deeply as you tried to find the right words for Jack.

"We had a fight," you started, voice quiet, "a bad one. He got upset, raised his voice, accused me of flirting with you the whole night, you know the usual."

Jack couldn't help but chuckle at that. Ryan accusing you of flirting with him was the usual?

"What do you mean the usual?"

Jack's question made you tense up. Oops.

"Yeah you know," you laughed lightly, "he always thought I'd rather be with you than him." Jack raised his eyebrows at your statement, "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah..." you trailed off. Jack didn't reply, he just looked at you, noticing the color rising to your cheeks. You were growing flustered as your mind wandered. You totally forgot about Ryan, instead having thoughts you shouldn't be having about your best friend...

Jack broke the silence a few minutes later with a question you weren't expecting.

"Would you rather be with me?"

Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach as your breath hitched in the back of your throat. You always did have feelings for Jack, but you never thought he felt the same way about you. After all, you ended your fling two years ago with each other because your friendship was "too important to lose."

"I..." you stammered. You were at a total loss for words. Jack's gaze softened as he reached out to gently cup your cheek. Before you knew it, the two of you were leaning in, eyes fluttering closed as your lips pressed against each others. The butterflies swarmed in your belly as your lips moved in a perfect slow and sensual rhythm with Jacks. You pulled away from Jack, letting your forehead rest against his as you looked into his blue eyes.

"I love you." You said quietly, your confession making Jacks face light up.

"I love you too, Y/n."

You smiled softly at him, leaning in for another kiss, one that was much deeper and full of even more passion. You knew exactly what this was going to lead to...

~time skip~

You bit your lip at the sight in front of you. Jack stood in front of you clad in black boxers. His thick thighs on display now that his sweatpants were off, and his broad chest, defined abdomen and muscular arms looked absolutely divine in the lighting of his bedroom.

"Like what you see sweetheart?"

Your cheeks grew red, the pet name making you feel your pulse in other areas of your body. Jack chuckled as he took a few steps closer to you. You laid back on the bed, propping yourself up on your elbows as he passionately kissed you. Jack gently pushed you down on the bed, his lips still attached to yours. You wrapped your arms around him, letting your manicured nails softly trail down his bare back. He pulled back from you, looking at you with his lust filled eyes. You eyed Jack as you hooked your index finger under the waistband of your thong, pulling the lace material down your legs. Jack glanced down, a smirk on his face as he saw your glistening folds.

"You're so wet and I haven't even touched you yet," he smugly stated.

You whined at his words, your hands reaching out to grasp his biceps. He leaned down and smashed his lips against yours, both of your mouths moving in sync. He pulled away, his blue eyes soft but full of so much lust.

"I want to touch you Y/n."

"Please..." you whined.

As soon as you gave him permission, Jack brought his hand down to your right thigh, stroking the soft skin of your inner thigh. Your eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of his hands on your skin. His fingers hovered over your clit, making you squirm with anticipation. He placed one finger into your entrance as he circled your sensitive clit. You gasped at the feeling, beginning to buck your hips beneath his touch. He pushed your hips down with his other hand, pressing onto your lower belly to hold you still.

"You gotta stay still for me."

You just nodded, arching your back slightly as Jack started to pump his fingers in and out, rhythmically.

"Hmph-Jack." you moaned out. You were completely taken over by a feeling of bliss, feeling yourself grow closer and closer to your orgasm.

He smirked at you as you grabbed onto his forearm, digging your nails into his skin as his muscles flexed with each swift movement of his fingers.

"Jack," you breathed out, "I'm so close-uh."

He thrusted his fingers into you one more time before pulling them out which caused you to whine. Jack eyed you carefully as he brought his fingers up to his mouth, sucking your juices off of them. He slowly removed his index finger from his mouth with a pop. You bit your lip as you watched him clean his fingers off. Only Jack could make eating cum look sexy. Jack chuckled at your reaction as he disappeared into his bathroom. He came back out with a wet wash cloth to clean you off with and one of his t-shirts for you to wear. Jack pressed the warm cloth to your thighs and core, wiping up the remnants of your orgasm. After cleaning you up, he slipped the t-shirt on over your head. The sight of you in his shirt made Jack's heart swell with love. He didn't want to look at anything else now that he saw you in his clothes.

Jack climbed into bed next to you, your bodies immediately turning into each others. All of you, all of him, intertwined. It just felt right for both you and Jack to be wrapped up in the others embrace. You hummed contently as you laid your head against Jacks chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

"You know," you spoke up softly, making Jack hum in response.

"Ryan used to make me believe love was black and white," you craned your neck up to look Jack in the eyes. You placed a soft kiss to his lips, a wide grin appearing on both of your faces as you finished your thought.

"You made me realize it's golden."

hi loves!!

here’s the first taylor swift song imagine! i decided to do these at random and not in order because that’s just what i prefer to do. i put all of the songs into wheel decide and daylight was the one that was chosen first lol (which i’m not complaining because i LOVE jack🤭)

also- i didnt plan on this being smutty at all, BUT, i got an idea (all thanks to @emaanemaa hehe) and i just went with it. i actually like how it turned out though, its the perfect mix of angst fluff and smut ;)

i hope you all enjoyed this! this was my first time writing for jack so i hope it was good enough for all of you jack girlies out there🤍

as always, thank you for all of your love and support! it means so much to me. i also really appreciate you all being patient with me when it comes to updates. i know they’re super slow, and i know you’re waiting so long for me to write something, ANYTHING, but your patience means a lot🤍🤍

love you all! thank you for reading!

#jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagines #jack hughes x y/n #jack hughes x you #jack hughes smut #jack hughes: daylight #taylor swift song imagines

433 notes · View notes

yaut-jaknowit · 2 months

Note

So just finished the wonderful work that is Baby sister and I am here to request a part two of sorts

Was thinking that perhaps before the reader could choose to do a natural birth or not, the readers body chooses for her (probs early) Unfortunately when this process starts while Gawtin is away and by the time she gets there, the pup isnearly born. Gawtin helps deliver the pup and at the end of it all it turns out fine, maybe a few close calls but the both of them get to enjoy this new bundle of joy

- 🥤

Baby Sister Part 2

Pairing: Gawtin x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: semi-descriptive birth (I think that's all...)

Word Count: 6807 (Twevle. Fucking. Pages)

Summary: The pregnancy conitnues one like normal. Or as normal as it can be when it comes to be pregnant with a hybrid. Worries and concerns of the future cloud your vision. While relaxing, you beg for Gawtin to get some of your favorite fruit you were. Oh, how you were going to regret sending her away. Only Qui'oky was at your side.

Author Note: People may wonder why it takes me so long to get to an ask or wrist something... It's because I don't know when to stop. Clearly, I hate myself when I write so damn much. Towards the end, I did slightly rush. Sorry about that but after twelve pages, I just wanted it done. ;(

Part 1

Masterlist

Ao3

Months go on by with little trouble. One you’re more than thankful for. This pregnancy was your first and your last. Nothing could go wrong. Not with a hybrid that no one knew was possible let alone to safe to carry all the way to term. Yet, you believed this was on last gift from Bgwil. One last parting gift before he had joined Cetanu. Paya allowed for this miracle to form.

When Gawtin had helped you with… your problem, that had opened up a pandora’s box. The steady ground you once stood upon cracked underneath your feet. You didn’t know where you stood with Gawtin. Whether this was mutual between two people grieving or if this was true. Did she actually want you?

Surely that night, it felt like it. Since then, you’ve allowed her access to whenever your breasts. They’ve never once felt sore afterwards.

Fourta was a little confused you were producing such a quantity earlier than usual than a human would. Her research had brought nothing to a conclusion officially. Of course, the head medic had theories and ideas. Mainly the fact your belly has grown bigger than the average human. She swore there had to be two babies but the ultrasound brought up nothing. Only one large baby who sat very low. A baby girl.

Her best guess was your body knew the baby was large needed more nutrients. A good sign. Fourta was happy to see this. She had created a serum to boost any nutrients or vitamins you needed. Despite your rocky start with her, you were warming up to the medic. Her main goal was to keep both you and your safe all the way through your pregnancy and even past birth.

This type of kindness you weren’t used to amongst other Yautjas. They are brutal as a species. Hunters, through and through. Fourta was meant to be a medic.

Your hand subconsciously rubbed at your belly was sitting out on the porch. The thatch overhang protected you from the harsh suns that beat down upon Yautja Prime. Added protection against the harsh rays were needed if you stepped out of the house. With the baby, you only seemed to grow more sensitive against their suns.

Gawtin had to buy you UV protective clothing with the use of sun screen. Even then, you still stay under the protection of a tree or awning. Or else, you’ll come home with redden skin. Yet, your body craved to be outside and enjoy the constant fresh air that their wild jungles brought. An open window wasn’t enough. No matter what Gawtin attempted to argue you with about.

Today was no different. The shiny, reflective cream had been slathered head to toe all over your skin. A floppy hat sat upon your head, adding an extra cover. The heat was at an all time today. That left you with a pair of shorts and a tank top. Well, it was more of a crop top since you hadn’t expected your stomach to grow so large. The hem barely even touch the middle of your belly.

A book was in your hand. One that Bgiwl had gotten you a while ago. You’ve read from front to cover plenty of times, over and over again. To the point the spine was barely holding the pages together. It wasn’t from mistreatment but a statement of a well-loved book. You are going to frame it after this last read to forever preserve this gift from him. Hopefully, your child will be able to read it herself.

Besides this book, you’ve read your fair share of Yautja pregnancy norms and the culture around it. They carry for about a month and half longer than humans do. A slow grow to ensure strong, capable babies to survive.

That lead you down a rabbit hole of hybrids. On this side of the jungle biome, the clans and tribes are more lax. They aren’t oppose to hybrids but they aren’t the most accepting. They are consider unpure, not a true Yautja. Which means your daughter will have to fight for her place ten times harder than the average Yautja. Her life will be a struggle, yes. As her mother, you will be at her side till the end.

You shook your head to get rid of the dark thoughts attempting to crawl into your mind. It was hard to deny the fear creeping up inside of you. The fact someone could kill her for just being different. This difference doesn’t harm anyone. But, even before she is born, you know she is strong. She has both you and Bgiwl’s blood running through her. Her heart is mighty.

A presences was sensed. Your head whipped around to find Gawtin leaving through the front door. The giant female lumbered over to you. A wide smile spread across your face as you titled your head back. “Good afternoon, Gawtin,” you greeted and set your book off to the side to give her your full attention.

Gawtin chuffed with a short purr and blinked slowly at you. “How are you feeling? Enjoying the outdoors?” That last part was to tease you about fighting her. She should know not to deny a pregnancy person what they want.

One of your brows quirked up but there was a smile on your face. You filled your lungs with the fresh air. “Actually, yes. I am. It’s wonderful to be out here and relax in the heat.” You stuck your tongue out at her.

The Yautja chuckled deeply. “You’re not going to relent, are you?”

Only one of the corners of your smile quirked up higher. “Never.” Your arms crossed. She sighed and let her shoulders drop. “It was a good try though.” She growled with no intentions at that.

An idea hit you though. For how big your belly has gotten, getting out of chairs or bed had become a hassle. That’s why you looked at Gawtin with a pleading look. She grunted at you to spill it. “Well, you know those fruits I’ve fell in love with. Plus the dipping sauce too.” Gawtin just nodded her head. “I’m out. Could you go to town and get some for me?”

It was yesterday when the last one was consumed by your hunger. That left you in a teary mood that Gawtin attempted to soothe with other snacks. You thought there was a chance to survive a few days without them, but your mind made it impossible.

Her purple eyes narrowed then flickered down to you expanded belly. The Yautja disliked leaving your side for very long. This trip would take up to a day to head into the neighboring town to get what you desired. That was far longer than Gawtin would ever leave you this close to your estimated due date. Her displeased face was something to go by.

“No,” she firmly denied. Your face twisted into a glare. You struggled to sit up higher but succussed in doing so.

“Excuse me? What do you mean no? I need those. I’m not asking much. I’ll be fine too. I can watch over Qui-oky for you as payment.” Not like you had much to your name let alone coins to pay her back for what she spends on you. You craved for those little fruits that you’re about to go out yourself and get some. A very bad idea, specially for you being pregnant.

The other animals that roam this planet aren’t as civil compared to the Yautjas. You being pregnant would only attract danger straight to you. Your scent a beacon that you were easy prey.

“If you don’t want to go, I’ll go myself,” you threatened and acted like you were going to wiggle your way onto your feet. Gawtin stepped closer and crowded you back into the chair.

She bristled, mandibles clicking against one another. “You are to stay here. Where it is safe for you.” She used a hand to keep you pinned to the chair. Then, a sigh escaped her. Her head bowed with defeat. “I relent. I will go get the aqiual and vix for you.”

A massive smile broke across your features. “Yes! Thank you so much,” you cheered and thrusted both of your arms high above your head. “Thank you.” Finally, your craving could be fulfilled after all this time.

Gawtin huffed and stood back up to her full height then pointed directly at the door. “Inside, now,” she demanded and left no room for an argument to build. Not that you could complain. Not while she was going out to the neighboring town to retrieve what you desired. You looked up at the tall female and extended both of your arms out to her. Only one of her arms were required to lift you up and back to your feet. “Inside.” You kept smiling and waddled into the house.

“I cannot believe you have talked me into this. I should not even leave the house let alone our village for this, this quest,” the green Yautja muttered and grumbled to herself. She stomped around while gathering what she needed for the trip. “Not with you so close to your due date. But you look so helpless when you look at me like that. I cannot say no.”

Deep down, a hidden part of yourself felt slightly guilty for pulling the pregnancy card hard. Yet, it had worked in your favor considerably. You were getting those fruits and dipping. Those mixed together were similar to pickles and peanut butter. Not normal to the average person but pregnancy cravings were hitting you hard. You barely keeping it together at the thought of tasting those again.

“I do greatly appreciate this, Gawtin. A lot. I thought I could last until afterwards but alas, I’m only human after all.” You shrugged then rested a hand on your extremely bloated belly. “I’m sure we’ll be fine. I’ll have Qui’oky to watch over me. Such a sweet boy.” Since he wasn’t running a muck through the house, you speculated he was down for a nap.

A pouch was slipped over her head. The green Yautja spun on her heel and marched up to you. Despite a nagging thought in the back of your head demanding you run, you stayed put. There wasn’t not even a chance she would or could harm you.

Her hand cupped your chin. “If anything and I mean anything happens, even the littlest of pains, you call me immediately. Then, call Fourta. I will be back as soon as possible.” Her palm slid down to your neck, coarse finger tips leaving behind a trail of goosebumps. You shuttered when her limb left your skin. “I will be back.”

The repeat of her words felt more for herself than you. You weren’t nervous. All you wanted was those stupid fruits and dipping. That would make your day better tenfold. Then, you would be happy as a clam.

The last thing Gawtin wanted to do was leave your side for more than was deemed safe. Under her mindset. To leave you while towards the end of your term was dangerous. But your demand for a specific craving forced her hand. Gawtin would make this trip the fastest ever known Yautja.

When Gawtin left you to your own devices, you headed back inside. As promised, you made your way into Gawtin’s room where little Qui’oky napped. His small form set upon a small nest of blankets and pelts his mother gotten him. His chest rising and falling in slow breathes. You smiled and leaned against the door. Your ankles were constantly swollen at this point. There was no break from the ache.

This was to be your life soon. Your hand rested on your belly. A little one just around the corner. You were nervous, of course. But, the excitement bubbling inside of you was hard to deny.

After some research, naming the suckling before its birth is bad. You should wait ten days for the name to form. That’s what this side of the jungle does. To name them before their birth or those ten days can mean the child isn’t meant to survive its chiva. Though, as a human, you didn’t fully believe these… ideas or myths, but you aired on the side of caution. You wanted your child to survive. She was all you had left of Bgiwl. Her death may break you.

Since Oky was still napping away, you waddled your way into the kitchen to feast on something to subdue your hunger. At least until Gawtin get’s back. Your mouth salivated at the thought of those delicious fruits and dipping. Call yourself crazy but that combination was the best thing to walk into your life. The looks you get from other Yautja may say other wise. Though, it’s mostly the males. The females understand a pregnancy craving.

You wanted to go back outside but with it being the hottest part of the day, you feel like you’ve sweated enough. Instead, you lumbered back into the bedroom and mindfully lowered yourself into the bed. The nest of pelts was carefully avoided as you maneuvered yourself to curl towards said pile.

The weight of your belly was mostly off of your spine and aching feet. You could mostly breath normal and took in a deep inhale. Gawtin’s overpowering, intoxicating scent filled your scenes. Your eyes closed on themselves.

Similar to a baby, you needed to take a short nap in the middle of the day. Yautja Prime’s hours were longer than earth’s. If you wanted to be up with Gawtin, a short hour nap was all you needed to survive.

When Oky was down for his nap as well, you would come and join him. He slept longer than you. A short time to have cuddle time with him. Thankfully, he wasn’t a fussy kid when he slept. He knocks out and is out for about two hours. Depends on how hard he’s been playing for the day.

The bowl of dried fruit left at the edge of the concave bed. You pulled the lightest blanket over your legs then finally found the perfect position. Then, you were out like a light.

A gasp tore at your throat. You jolted awake and tried to sit up when lightning struck you deep in the belly. A hoarse cry surpassed your lips. You flopped on your back again and clutched the pelts underneath you tightly.

Movement at your side caught your attention. You turned your head to find Qui’oky stirring awake. He squirmed and whined. You whimpered and struggled to sit up again. The pain tried to knock you flat on your back once more but you powered through.

Wetness between your legs had your jaw dropping. No… You lugged up to your knees and looked between them to find the pelts and your pants darkened. Terror seized your feeble heart. Your head spun around to find where the tablet had been left. Gawtin. Needed to call her. Get her back as soon as possible! You couldn’t do this alone. You didn’t want to birth your child alone!

Qui’oky blinked awake and rolled to sit up. Tears streamed down your face as you looked at him. He chirped happily then tilted his head. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re awake, Oky. I need you to grab the tablet, please.” Your hands lifted to make a writing motion but a strong cramp in your belly had you back on all four. “Fuck!”

It didn’t help your breathing began immediately picking up. Your body shaking.

The small green child wobbled over to you and squeezed your cheeks between his hands. Unfamiliar and baby talk chittered from the toddler. You reached up and held his tiny hand against your cheek harder. “Please, I need the tablet to call your mommy, your bearer.” You prayed to Paya that he understood just a lick of what you wanted from him. “Tablet. Tablet.”

He gave a squeak then clambered out of the concave bed. Hope filled your pounding heart. You used an arm to hug your hurting belly.

Painful cramps worked up the base of your spine. Your toes curling with each one. The sight of the child was lost when you bowed your head and braced for what had to be a contraction. You moved the arm not holding your upper body up to run through the ruins of your bedridden hair. Knots caught on your digits and only frustrated you more.

This… why did this have to be your luck?! The one time you wanted something nice, your plans are ruined by, by your child. Fuck, your child was coming. She was going to make her way into the world today. If she doesn’t kill you on the way out.

Impatience and concern swirled deep in your belly. There wasn’t a second to be wasted. You did your best to ignore the pain and started to crawl out of the bed. Every movement was an uphill battle. Each step forward took a lot out of you. But, you mustered up the strength to get out and crawling towards the open bedroom door.

The pitter-patter of feet stomping their way through the dwelling caught your attention. Your head whipped up to find the stumbling form of Qui’oky making his way towards you. If you weren’t in the amount of pain you were in already, you would’ve cheered outwardly. He came up to and offered the tablet to you with lots of chitters.

“Yes, yes, thank you. God, I love you so much, Oky. I’ll-ow… I’ll tell your mom how much of a good helper you are for me.” You sat down on your calves and took the tablet. The screen lit up, telling the time and day it was. It was quickly dismissed. You moved onto the contacts and instantly tapped on Gawtin’s.

Not even two second later was the call answered. “I’m coming back.” Her voice was airy as she panted.

“Please,” you begged. She instantly knew by the call what it had meant. “Does birthing a child always hurt this much?”

Crunching of leaves and whistling wind sounded from her end. “The first time is always the worst. I will be there. Call Fourta. Let her know I will be there in thirty minutes,” she ordered but left the call open. You silently nodded to yourself, preparing to end the call.

“Okay,” you sniffled and hesitantly ended it. When the quiet of the room flooded back in, you swiftly scrolled through your contacts. Fourta’s was easy to find. You pressed on her contact and listened as it rung.

A couple of rings filled the tense air. “Gawtin,” Fourta’s voice filtered through the speaker. Your hands were shaking badly, trying to hold onto the tablet. Another cramp sent lightning bolts down to your hips. Your gasp echoed back at you. Your name was spoken through the speakers. “Where’s Gawtin? How far along are the contractions?”

“She… she was going to get some food,” you sputtered and had to set down the tablet on the ground. Oky whined and sat down on his haunches to look you in the eye. “I don’t know. It… it hurts a lot. She’s coming back. In thirty minutes.” The green child raised a hand to cup your cheek again. You leaned into the comfort and closed your eyes for a short moment.

On the other end, Fourta cursed with growl. “I told her not to leave you!” You winced and shook your head.

“No, no. It’s my fault. Really. I was in need. Pregnancy cravings. I really, really wanted them.” Stupidly, it was your fault for begging her for those snacks. Or else you wouldn’t be kneeling on the ground, panting and crying from the pain. A pain you’ve never felt before.

A sigh came from the sea green Yautja. “I shall be over in less than five.” The call ended. You whimpered at new silence of room. Oky just watching you. You picked your head up and gnawed on your bottom lip.

“Everything’s going to be fine. It’s okay, Qui’oky,” you soothed him but tried to help yourself through the process. You bowed your head, his hand slipping off. He reached down and tapped on Gawtin’s contact again.

The call didn’t even ring again before she answered. “Did you get to Fourta?” she instantly asks, panting as she pushed her body to the limits. You squeaked out an affirmative. “Good, good.” It seemed like a great weight was lifted off of her shoulders.

Qui’oky squeaked in baby talk. Your face broke with the hint of a smile. “Qui’oky, are you watching over them? Taking care of them?” Gawtin panted then landed down from a great height by the sounds of it.

He chittered to his mother and clapped his hands together. Despite it being baby talk, Gawtin understood what he meant. “That’s such a good boy. Dam’s proud of you.”

“Yeah, he’s been helping. Grabbed the tablet for me,” you groaned and bowed down to press your forehead on the ground besides the device. “Fuck, Gawtin. I don’t know if I can do this. It hurts so much. I-I’m so scared right now. I love the kid… but I need you, please.” You were kicking yourself over and over about the fact you had sent Gawtin away. It was like the world was punishing for such a stupid move. Not that you blamed it. It was your fault she wasn’t here.

Gawtin growled. “Fourta will help. I will be there. Just breath. Take deep breaths in, hold for three seconds, and exhale. It helps with the pain. Are you laying down?” You began to follow her instructions of breathing. It brought down your heartrate and started to ease up the pain cramping in your belly.

“No. Hands and knees.” You got back onto one of your hands while the other tried to soothe the cramp pulling in your right hip. Lying on your back was the worse position to be, that you’ve heard. Squatting or the position you were currently in was the best. But, you didn’t want to give birth yet. Not without Gawtin. You needed her here.

“Good, good position. Stay like that. That will help too,” Gawtin grunted, wood creaked underneath her form. “How far out is Fourta?”

More lightning struck you in your pelvis. You gasped and reared your head back. Qui’oky whined and squished your cheeks between his hands again. It took a moment to gather your thoughts again let alone an answer for Gawtin. “About… about five minutes. Probably less. Hopefully less.” You prayed it was less. You couldn’t bare to be alone with just Qui’oky. There was nothing he could do to relieve your pain.

A hum sounded through the speaker. “I am twenty minutes out,” she said. Had it been ten minutes already? Or was she pushing herself beyond to get to you? No matter what was the answer, you were thankful she was getting here.

You nodded and groaned, eyes slipping shut. Oky chirped and poked one of your cheeks. “Just stay where you are. Fourta will help set up the bath when she gets there.” A squeaked ‘okay’ left your chapped lips.

Gods, this was really happening. If it wasn’t for the pain, you would’ve pinched yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming.

The front door slid back. Your head whipped to face the sound. Fourta was in the door before it had fully opened. At the sight of the healer, you felt a good portion of the cumbersome weight lift off of your shoulders. She was instantly at your side. Qui’oky chittered to her and patted your head. The healer only hummed to entertain him as she tugged on your wrist.

“Fourta’s here,” you spoke up with relief pooling in your voice.

“Fourta, tell me everything,” Gawtin demanded in voice that left no room for arguing.

Soft fingertips pressed against your pulse point for about thirty seconds. “Heartrate is high. I will need to figure out how far apart the contractions are. Then, I will set up the bathtub. They are in good hands, Gawtin.” Her words helped a little to ease your thundering heart. Your wrist is let go. She stays kneeled at your side though.

“Tell me when you feel a contraction or cramp,” she firmly states. You swallowed down the lump in your throat and timidly nodded. Despite being thankful she was here and you weren’t alone anymore, you desperately wanted Gawtin. She would be much nicer about this than the way Fourta was acting.

As if on cue, your pelvis cramped up and caused you to cry out. “Now!” you shouted. Fourta began to count out loud while her eyes were trained on you. Your hands were curled into fists. You had to bow down and press your forehead against the cool wooden floor. Oky’s palms left your skin.

Another one hit you. Your nails bite harshly into the soft padding of your hands. “Fuck, another,” you cursed and panted heavily. Was the birthing process this painful? Could it be just the fact your baby was massive for your body? The way your belly was incredibly bloated was a great answer to that.

“Five minutes,” Fourta announced then stood up. “I’m going to fill the bath.” You watched as the healer left you on the floor. New tears prickled the corner of your eyes. Fourta was gone from your sight.

“Gawtin?” you croaked and hoped she hadn’t left you to.

“Yes?” she asked, voice airy and light compared to her normal grumble. “I am halfway there. I just passed the pond I have taken to you before.”

Memories flood your mind at the mental image. You’ve nor only been there countless times with her but Bgiwl has taken you there before. Many times. Your last time was three months ago. Before you scent had doubled and could bring in predators for miles. Gawtin deemed it too dangerous for you to go out that far anymore. Not when you already looked nine months pregnant at that point. Running was impossible and you were just waddling around. Sometimes Gawtin would carry around, specially when your feet ached.

“Think she’ll be as strong as Bgiwl?” you whimpered. An added painful pressure forced your legs wider. You needed something to distract you. Even if it was just a little.

“Of course. She will have your courage and bravery as well. An combination of the best of two worlds.” The corners of your mouth quirked up in a short smile.

With your child being a hybrid, you wondered what she would look like. What features of both worlds would make her up? The mandibles? Incredible scent? Hair or tresses? Would she be smaller like a human? That could be an advantage; to fit in smaller places than the average Yautja could.

As a hybrid, there will be difficulties. “She’s not going to be accepted easily,” you muttered with worry full in your voice. That was truth.

“Yes, you are correct. She will have to work twice as hard to prove herself. But, she is of your blood and of Bgiwl’s. You have endured a pregnancy that was likely to fail. That endurance will be passed down to her,” she spoke truthfully.

A few tears dripped down your cheeks. The sweet words making you cry more than the mess you already are.

Two small hands patted the top of your head. You smiled and peered up at Oky. The child was doing his best while not completely understanding the whole the situation with you in pain. But, you were thankful you weren’t entirely by yourself. You couldn’t even fathom the thought being alone while dealing with this.

A pained cry left your lips. Lightning shot through your pelvis. Your forehead was against the floor once more. The cool wood was a comfort.

Once it passed, you asked, “can you tell me abo-ow… about your first pregnancy?” Anything to distract you from the pain and discomfort with Fourta readying the bath. Qui’oky could only do so much in the moment.

“My first pregnancy?” she hummed as if it was a distance memory. That only made you question internally how old was she. She didn’t seem incredibly old compared to some of the elders you’ve seen. “You’re making me go back four hundred and fifty years in memories.” Your jaw slackened. Four hundred and fifty. Four hundred and fifty?!

“It something I won’t forget. Though, she is gone. Cetanu rest her spirt. Her father was the biggest male anyone had seen. A large male from the mountains.” From there, she goes on about her first pregnancy and childbirth. She, too, struggled like you were currently. The pain, something she hadn’t experienced before. Neither was she prepared to feel like she was being ripped into two.

The contractions went on. You suffered through the next three when the front door was nearly bursted through. In came crushing through Gawtin in all of her panting, sweating glory. A thick sheen of moisture stuck to her scales. It dripped off of her. She knelt down at your side in a blink of an eye.

One of her hands lightly rested on your lower, pained back. The other grasped your shoulder. She leaned into frame. A hoarse, crackly purr poured from her throat in a fast pace. Her purple eyes scanned over your sweaty, teary features before straightening back up. “Fourta!” she growled through the small dwelling.

A blue head peered around from the bedroom. “Good, you made it. The bath is almost full. I’ve added some herbs to the water. That will help ease some discomforts,” she explained then walked around the corner, folding her medical pouch back into place.

During the last twenty minutes, she’s only checked up you on twice. For your contractions and heartrate. Then, she would be back in the bathroom.

Gawtin nodded her head then helped you to stand. Rather than letting you stumble your way to the bathroom, she carefully scooped you up into her arms. You could care less about the moisture she just rubbed onto you. You were beyond thankful she had finally made it.

The sight of the massive bathtub filled with semi-purple water was relief. To wash off the horrible mess that had been created when you first woke up from your nap and even to now. You could feel more wetness between your legs not from the fact your water had broken.

With Gawtin’s help, she gently sets you on your own two feet. Your hands are gripping her shoulders tightly. She grasps the hem of your shirt then stops, eyes peering into yours. All you do is give her a slight nod. The green Yautja softly removes both pairs of clothing adorning your form until you’re naked like the day you were born.

Even with Fourta still in the room, you didn’t care she was seeing you naked. There was something worse she’ll see in the upcoming day or hours. Now, it was only a waiting game that your child decides to make an appearance. Gods, it really was happening. You had to remind yourself this was the real deal.

Her large hands guided you to the edge of the warm water. Gawtin slipped in first and stood in front of you, shorter than you now. Both of her hands were held in front of you, palms offered to you. You took a deep breath then carefully used her arms to first sit down then slide into the bath.

The temperature of the water was perfect for your thinner skin. The Yautjas could take on the harsher heat, but Fourta knew exactly what you could and couldn’t handle. Despite her cold exterior at first, she seemed to actually care about your health in the end. You smiled softly at the thought.

A deep, primal groan left your lips as the weight of your pregnant body was eased off tired, strained muscles. Baths were your favorite. There wasn’t much to get you out of a bath later in your pregnancy.

Green arms drew you close to a form you’ve grown familiar with. You tilted your head back to find Gawtin already looking down at you. Another smile graced your features as you nuzzled against her chest. She begun to purr again and rubbed one of her hands up and down your side.

The purring was soothing. The tense, tight muscles that lined your back were the first to relax. Then, you sunk against Gawtin. Letting both the water and her hold you in a softly, comforting embrace.

Your half hooded eyes watched as little Oky waddled in the bathroom with a couple of his toys. Fourta cleared her throat. “I shall be back. They will need a fruy. It will curve the pain some and help relax them for the pushing process.” Fourta gave a nod to the two of you before spinning on her heel and leaving the two of in the tub. You were thankful she had left.

Now, it was just you and your small adoptive family you weaseled your way into. This was going to be the long haul.

Worst of all, your nap had been interrupted. That left you with less energy dealing with giving birth to your child. You were slowly starting to feel the effects seeping into your veins. It dragged you down like molasses. Your head rested against her chest, eyes closing just. For the moment, you just focused on your breathing and Gawtin’s heartbeat strong in your ear.

You weren’t alone. Gawtin was here. Qui’oky was here. Fourta helped you. You had your family here for you. For the first time in a while, you were able to take a deep breath of relief. All you had to do was give birth to a massive child.

A green hand softly caressed your belly. You groaned, toes curling when more cramps fluttered to lift. “Fuck, Gawtin. I don’t know how you’ve done this countless times,” you said and doubled down on focusing on her heartbeat. It thundered in your ears. A powerful war drum.

Laughter bubbled up inside of her, causing her purr to become choppy. “After a point, they practically slip out. Qui’oky was out in two minutes,” she answered and let you float on your back with a little aid. “The water helps wonderfully.” You hummed in agreement and nodded. “Have you thought of names?”

This time, you shook your head. “No, I’m going the traditional route. I’m going to wait the ten days then name her. I may not believe in your gods, but I do respect your culture. I want her to have the best chance at survival. No matter what.” Since living on Yautja Prime, the one-eighty of cultural differences had shocked you. Yes, Yautjas and humans do have similarities, but they also have some things completely wild. Nudeness was a huge change for you. Clothes are worn but they were very… lacking.

Until you found out why when the heat and humidity struck you in the face. The jungle wasn’t even the hottest place on this planet.

She hummed and soothed down your wet hair. “Then, you will have to present her in front of Baroness Ma’tan-Aih.” You tensed. Gawtin’s mother. A force to be reckoned with. You steered far away from the green Yautja as much as possible. She was not nice, not polite, and didn’t take any crap from anyone. She was a brick wall to either talk to or run into. She ran the village you currently stay in and was heavily disgruntled when Bgiwl brought you here, into her home. At that moment you saw her, you thought you were going to die. Either from a heart attack or her snapping your neck.

In the end, she let Bgiwl have you as his mate.

Fear ate at your heart, seeping cold water into your veins. “I-I don’t know. Your mother… she already doesn’t like me. Won’t she… kill my child for being a hybrid?” That hurt to say, pained you worse than the contractions. Yet, it was an honest fear.

Baroness Ma’tan-Aih was the leader of the village. Plus, she was massive. Bigger than Gawtin herself. She commanded. If she didn’t want the child to live simply being a hybrid, she could make the decision. And you… would be unable to stop it. Not even a mother’s strength could fend off a hoard of Yautjas at the baroness’s beck and call.

Clicking growls erupted from Gawtin’s throat. She pulled you in close to her with a gentle but firm hold around your chest. “No, she will not.” The Yautja stopped her growling and released a deep breath. “I see you have done your research about the matter.”

You solemnly nodded. You were one of the lucky humans who has ever met a Yautja and lived let alone to live on their planet. To meet Bgiwl, from this side of jungle, you had to count your lucky stars. Because, if it had been someone say from the mountain region, you would’ve been most likely watch as they killed your child. It is against their code to kill something harmless and defenseless but to let an abomination continue life was worse.

It's considered ‘impure’ to the Yautja bloodline. It could be a threat to all Yautjas. So, to rectify this issue, to put down the newborn. The action is seen as mercy.

“I have. I want to be prepared fully for… today. I’m just really scared,” you whimpered and curled your arms close to your chest. Another contraction ran its course. Gawtin used a hand to pet down your back.

“That is completely understandable,” she rumbled then leaned in close to your ear. “Did you know I was scared the first time I gave birth? It is a natural process, yes. But to birth life is something no one can prepare you for.” Gawtin, the giant goddess looking alien behind you, had been scared when she gave birth the first time?!

With one of her hands splayed just above your breasts, you wiggled your digits between hers. Despite the large size difference, you hold onto the back of her hand. A smile graced your features while looking at your connected hands. “You were probably more prepared than I am. It seems… a more covered subject here than back on earth.” Man, it sounded weird talking like. You never expected to leave the atmosphere of your planet, let alone be so far from it.

Hours pass with only little hiccups. The contractions only grow closer and closer together, signaling the inevitable. Then, you felt the need to push with a pain that had worsen.

Your free hand reaches up behind you to grasp at the back of Gawtin’s neck and hold on. “Gawtin… I-I think it’s time. I feel a need to push,” you whimpered, toes curling while you held back the need. Not until you were told it was okay.

A course palm ran over your belly. “Listen to your body. Let it tell you what to do. It knows what its doing. Just remember to breath as steadily as possible.” Breath. Got that. You can do that.

One more glance over your should up at the green goddess, you closed your eyes focused on tensing your muscles. The pain wasn’t anything you’ve experienced before. It was on a different level, a different scale that sent fire burning in your pelvis and vagina. You screamed out, back arching. Your nails dug into the thick palm of Gawtin’s hand. She acted no different.

Tears stained your cheeks with each push. Your lungs attempted a steady breathing cycle but you would hold your breath before baring down.

“You are doing great,” Gawtin’s whispers into your ear. She was the perfect anchor to the real world. She kept you from floating away into the blazing pain.

There was a sudden pop before you felt the rest slide right out. You gave another hoarse cry, head rolling back for only a moment. Your eyes opened and found a dark red blob floating on its back. Instantly, you scooped the crying child from the water and held her securely to your chest. “Shush, shush. It’s okay, sweetie,” you soothed the sobbing child now in your arms.

Once she quieted down to only a few hiccups, you carefully held her up for Gawtin to see. The giant female purred before it was cut short. Paranoia seized your heart. Your eyes shot to your child, worried Gawtin saw something you couldn’t in your daze, exhausted state.

Gawtin reached behind the child and pulled something into view. A tail?!

#yautja #predator #yautja x reader #yautja x you #alien vs predator #predator x reader #yautja x human #predator x you #predator x human #x reader #Gawtin #Baby Sister

131 notes · View notes