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the-monkeies-girl · 3 months

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Cleopatra. ( Caesar x Pregnant! Human Reader, Drabble Series. POTA )

I should not listen to myself i said 5 drabbles well well here we are with like 6 and close to 7K words and most of them are smaller oneshots AH. Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated. I am working on a similiar piece for NOAAAAA!!!!

Beginnings. ( Drabble 1. )

You felt like you couldn’t breathe - the air was sticking onto your lungs, coating them in ashen dust that was laying on the ground of the woods. You needed to move --- Okay, maybe not, grunting that inside of your mind as you attempted to shift your head just a bit to get a bearing onto your surroundings proved futile as red hit your eyes and your neck convulsed under the usual movement. Pain radiated from the back of your head, down to the base of your neck and stagnantly danced on the nerves piled there. Even shifting to press your hand against your stomach was an endeavor and even then, the blood that was on the palm of your hand… You squinted at it, fear setting in as the last drop of whatever adrenaline you had faded into obscurity.

Was… Was that your blood? Trying to swallow was impossible, planting your face down into the mud and letting out a strangled cry as you attempted to move once again, your teeth gritting against each other but in the scape of the situation, that felt heavenly as compared to the tattering that was running through your muscles. Saliva began mixing into the already impure snow under your body having been mixed previously with mud. One foot, you tried to convince yourself. You just needed one… On… One… Looking down at your right foot as you managed to get yourself kneeling, accomplishment was short-lived as your ears rang, your center of gravity disappearing as did your vision. Falling back, your body was hard to hit the ground.

In a fitted haze of unconsciousness, you could have sworn you were… Swooped up in one foul move by a set of arms that were much hairier than a humans. Warm, you had thought to yourself, but that could be swelling in your brain telling you that death was on the horizon. Death… Sounded nice versus the incredible tremors of your body, throwing into a it of hypothermia, a cusp of bruises and cut-marks aligning against your already frigid skin to the point where it felt you were going to shatter into shards if you were moved too quickly, to feverishly. How selfishly you wanted to open the door where the knock was coming from. But you had more to think about than just yourself now.

Flinching at the pain of your abdomen, a pair of hands were astute enough to deduce your intensely fragile situation.

What… is happening?

Voice of God, it had to be. It trembled in a deep setting baritone, hard and unforgiving. Yes, you wanted to cry, I am with Child but I… Can’t find it in myself… to live…

Found in woods! Nearby Human Camp--- This voice was light and airy but you were unable to process the words that came after that, your mind bending into a haze as you tried to get yourself into a state of lucidity so you could actually focus. Brought back to Colony when saw she was still alive.

Colony? You wanted to tilt your head but in your jilted state, you were unable to move.

With Child. Not far along, but both will survive if we keep her here and heal.

This voice was a bit more soft spoken, gentle and caressing like the hands that were now placed on your head, your eyes refusing even the most basic of knowledge from your brain to get them open. It smelt like conifer, the highest tree possible, a bird sitting atop and watching the inklings of the ground below its mighty perch. Heaven? There was a lax in the air of contemplation before the baritone voice from earlier spoke.

She will stay, do what you can to heal.

And with that command and your mind taking itself to the darkness, even in the state of your eyelids being shut, everything went black.

Empathetic Ape. ( Drabble 2. )

It did not take long after you finally willed yourself out of your semi-coma to realize that you… Had been taken prisoner by a Colony of Apes. In your mind, you drew the conclusion from the snippets of the conversation you got when you were first brought here in your altered state of reality that… They had found you. Half-alive and brought you back to the Colony at the bid of their King. This… Your eyes narrowed a small bit as you looked over the giant and sweeping bonfire that was built in the middle of this communal space. This Caesar.

There was irony in the name itself, and you just had to wonder if he knew that. You had woken up nearly a month ago, fading in and out, but able to keep yourself stable enough to process that… They were being kind in healing you. They knew, you drew your arms closer to your stomach as you tightened the animal pelt around your shoulders and gave Caesar a wide stare as he looked over at you, your actions must have torn him from his conversation with the others around him. They knew you were pregnant. They must have thought they were sparing you, not telling you the detailed nature of the camp when they had found you. The--- You choked a small cry, tears pricking at the back of your eyes. The bodies. Your friends. Your family. Your--- Squeezing your eyelids shut, you couldn’t bear to think about it any longer and forced a swallow down before looking at the fire rather blandly. “Do not know… much,” That voice! You jumped on your spot, clutching the pelt even harder and causing your knuckles to go white. Your eyes scaled from the jumping flames, up the hackles of an Apes legs and rested uncomfortably in a sea of green, ablaze from the depths of the fire itself. You swallowed lightly, watching him move in petulant silence as he sat next to you, bowl in his hand. Caesar. Caesar. Your mind was wailing like an old police car.

“About human… Pregnancy.” No shit, you wanted to retort sarcastically but you held your tongue as he held out the bowl in his hand. Fruit. And… You squinted. Roasted fish? Your stomach churned at the prospect of having something other than a slurry of ground up food, something the Apes that were aiding you to heal often fed you as a means to get the food down as fast as possible. Faster, no chance of morning sickness, right? Wrong. You found yourself kneeling over and getting sick more times than you could count. “Might be similar to Ape, but do not know.” In between his choppy English, you grasped the plate carefully with one hand and brought it into your chest with the smallest ‘thank you’. It wasn’t as if the Female Apes that were healing you were awful, they weren’t cordial though. It felt they only did what they needed to to appease the Ape next to you. Strong, mighty and all encompassing Caesar. “I am…” You had begun eating, chewing mildly so as to not disturb the tone of Caesar’s voice. Waving right around the edges, or it could have been your imagination in the front of the roar of a fire, “Sorry…” Furrowing your eyebrows at that, you picked the fish with your pointer finger, suddenly not at all invested in eating as bile switched in your throat. “Lost my mate,” He continued on, your eyes dead-set and widening as you realized he was… displaying empathy. Your mind fogged for a moment. They were capable of that? “Only recently,” Gesturing to the perch you had found yourself watching him on earlier in the evening, he was making direction towards the broader chest of one of the Females that took care of you here. Squinting, you gasped quietly. They were so small, so ingrained in the fur that it was hard to tell there was a baby there, until their tiny head turned to the side and much to your surprise, you were met with a mild azure rather than the scrutiny of green you were so used to. “Blue Eyes, my Son. Mother lost after… Birth.” Not meaning to seem rude, your tried to keep your mouth from falling open dramatically, but it did partially split. “Complications from childbirth?” Surprised at the gentle nature of your voice, you felt a tear slide down your right cheek and you were quick to brush it away. Like it mattered, once one started, there was a flood soon to come. He only nodded, silent and a bit less intimidating than the times you had seen him, times you had interacted before this. “I---” you choked a bit, looking down at the bowl in your hands that Caesar was gracious enough to bless you with, “Don’t know wh-what happened to my husband… Was…” Narrowing your eyes in slight suspicion, you glanced over at him briefly when your voice tapered into nothingness but you forced yourself to speak the next question with no animosity. You needed to know the answer. “Was it Apes?” He’d know the answer, you bargained. Being a King and all. That’s what it was to be a Leader. You knew the good, and you knew the bad. And even worse than all of that, you knew the carnage. “No.” He was assured in that answer as his gaze met yours once again, this time, instead of finding yourself looking away, you drifted towards it, towards some comfort that someone else… Knew about the absolute torn away nature of your heart and how it was so empty now.

“Humans.” There was a twinge of assurance in his voice as he rose, gesturing to the bowl he had given you. “Keep strength up. Not just for yourself, but for…” His eyes flickered down to your stomach, minute in nature but he may as well have been gawking at you. “Child.”

Baby Blue. ( Drabble 3. )

A few months passed and you found yourself easing into the Colony, despite the disgruntled comments you got from a certain Bonobo who shall not be named. That was your nickname for him, and that’s how it remained as Winter fell off and Spring blossomed, the wildflowers bustled through the ground, through the snow that was still encapsulating its livelihood. All of it was going to be gone by the end of the day, you thought mildly as you looked at the Sun.

Taking a bid from Caesar himself, you were basking in the rays, sitting atop a rather comfortable tree trunk that had been rolled onto its side as a means to be sat on. He had convinced you to leave your hut earlier in the day, telling you that Sun was good for Ape pregnancy, it must be good for Humans. There was no intense argument to be made as you gave him a delicate smile, nodding in agreement and finding yourself drenched deliciously in mild-warmth, your scattered and torn paperback book sitting in your lap.

Looking down at it… You felt a deep yearning and pressing sensation hit your chest. You were showing. Not much, you were sure that the other Apes had yet to notice any change with you, not that you could blame them. As you got adapted to living with them, you became just another part of Colony life and they paid you no heed. Unless you were late for meals. Then Luca was on you ( something you thought that Caesar was responsible for, but it turns out the Silverback was genuinely concerned for you at times ).

In your time here, he had become your closest ally, even going as far as to call him a friend. He made gentle comments, telling you how glowing you looked today, something he must have heard through the grapevine that humans said about pregnancy, he told you how wonderful it was that your baby was developing, and that you were beginning to actually show. He had explained that with Apes, they all grew small. Small to the point where it was undetectable. You envied that, placing a soft hand against your bump and sighed deeply. Soon, no Ape here would be able to walk past you without gawking, without it looking like you had stolen a ripe melon and decided to shove it under your shirt.

There was chittering to your side, your head wiping over to investigate. Not too quickly though, even though time had passed, your neck still felt sore if you went to fast in your movements. Blue Eyes, much like yourself, was growing. The phase of always clinging to a Female, or even better, your guilty pleasure when you wanted to see something abnormally cute, clinging to Caesar’s chest, were coming to a close and he was becoming more curious of the world around him, much like yourself.

Chuckling at the fact that you were drawing comparisons to a baby Chimp, you grunted and picked him up as he so often liked to held by you when you would read pages from your book. He had to learn speech, right? And who better to learn from than from a Human who had impeccable --- Well, you tilted your head and smiled at the baby as he crawled himself up your arm, around your shoulder and then back down the other arm, decent skills in English.

He paused at the same time that you did, a fluttering capturing your abdomen. Was that… It happened again, this time more fervently, your mouth falling into an ‘O’ shape, and any Ape who saw you at this moment were probably assuming that you were laughing. “Did… did you feel that?” You bent your head down and gawked at Blue Eyes, who gave you a small tilt of the head as he placed his dainty hand right upon the top of your bump. Right where you had felt the sensation. The butterflies - The - The… Your baby.

“You felt that.” Confirming that, Blue Eyes hooted in your lap as a response. You had no idea what he was saying as tears hit the back of your eyes as your face contorted. You began openly sobbing, not a care in the world if anyone saw you.

Caesar was perched in his normal spot, having just dismissed the council. Koba lingered as he usually did, giving comments about you, about you being with child and how dangerous of a game it really was. But, the King was in no mood to listen to that and told Koba that he would need time to think about his words and they could discuss at a later time.

Blue Eyes-- He had jumped off Caesar’s shoulder mid-meeting. Probably scavenging somewhere for some berries, most likely pestering you though as that slowly became the small Prince’s favorite pastime. Not that Caesar was one to complain. It came with benefits. You were good with Blue Eyes, you were gentle and kind and it gave Caesar actual time with his own thoughts without having to dally on his child.

He peered down the rock ledge. Spotting you was easy, your scent often gave away your where-abouts to Caesar. Green eyes hit the back of your head first, admiring the tousel of your hair on this particular day and how it appeared naturally highlighted in the sunshine.

You had been reading, Caesar’s suspicions confirmed. Blue Eyes was with you and was most likely getting a mouth full from whatever you were reading to him. Then the shaking of your shoulders. Caesar’s eyes narrowed upon seeing his Son’s small hand on your stomach. He wasn’t… No, no, Blue Eyes wasn’t hurting you, the gentle touch he had was too soft to inflict damage of any sort. Watching in contemplation of whether he wanted to go down there and see what was happening, he saw your hand come up as you lightly placed it on Blue Eyes’, holding it against the shelf of your stomach that was becoming more pronounced. Caesar stopped himself from moving and just… Surveyed. He could hear your mild words fluttering through the air like dandelion seeds. “I think it’s a boy.” Chittering from Blue Eyes. “A girl? Are you sure?”

Camp. ( Drabble 4. )

Caesar had told you that on their most recent delectation of Hunting, on top of snagging a few Elk for the Colony, they had fallen upon what appeared to be a deserted human settlement. He estimated it had been abandoned for only a year, maybe less. Some of the things were coated finely in dust from the woods, no implications that it had been there since the beginning of the Flu and it was in remarkable condition.

He didn't dig into it though, unsure of what items you were in more need of than others and had chosen to come back home and tell you of it. You were prompt to accept the offer to go with him two days from when he told you, now in the present you were teetering yourself to keep balance on the uneven floor of the woods, opting to walk when you were concerned of riding a horse while pregnant. He told you it wasn’t much farther, having left shortly after dawn and stopping a few times as you severely needed to relieve yourself behind a tree, having to tell the Ape King himself not to watch you as he was pretty concerned you could be attacked while out of his sight. Ideas flurried in your mind as you drew closer, Caesar having just stopped to take in the surroundings.

He banked right, and you were quick to follow. You thought about what pieces of clothing you had. Things were beginning to not fit, you were rounding out and getting plump. Your favorite cargo pants were hanging on by a literal hair-tie that you had been using to keep them shut by the front button, your favorite shirt… Well, the Apes, you joked in your head, must have been tired of seeing the bottom of your stomach always innately displayed.

Some larger shirts would do the trick, nothing needed to be Maternity in a world where that was considered a privilege and luxury. To put things plainly, as you had told the Ape King, who was kind enough now to give you a helping hand right down a small embankment, his other hand coming to ghost right under your bump to keep your center of gravity, leaving you with a wild tinted blush against your cheek when you scuffled against him, chest to bump for a few seconds, beggars could not be choosers.

Pulling away from Caesar’s grasp was never an easy thing. You wanted nothing more than to sink into him, sink into the tender moments where he had you alone, and vice versa. The late nights of restlessness you found yourself in at times, thinking of your lost family, your husband, the conversations in front of the dying fire where he had finally laid bare his feelings and emotions about the loss of his wife.

Spotting glances through the day, Caesar laid his hands on you only when he was easing to help you. He had taken note that while Cornelia was small, and Chimpanzees were known to carry small, you were quite a delicious spectacle to his eyes in all the best ways and he considered your attention something he actively sought now, though, he was unsure if he was willing to ease himself into admitting that.

Rounding a large Red Wood, your eyes were witnessed to the camp. If you felt like running, you would surely do that but the fear of falling flat on your face stopped you as you tore away from Caesar and trekked ahead of him, only giving him a glance over your shoulder as if you were asking if it was okay to go in front of him. He did not nod, but he didn't object as you gave him a smile and quickened your pace, hand on the underside of your growing baby to keep yourself steady enough as you sauntered.

The outside was remarkably sparse, nothing to really indicate that Humans had been there, other than a firepit and a few strewn bags like they packed and left in a hurry. But, once you were able to really get your teeth sunk into the abandoned building, from the set up of an old restaurant of sorts, you were able to get a taste of things you had missed. You felt like crying as you came upon a table with a few pieces of clothing on it. Upon further inspection, they were Men’s, XL. Without hesitation, they were placed into the bag that Caesar had provided for the occasion. Three shirts, one red, one black and one white. Basic, but you were bursting at the seams. All you needed were some pants! Maybe some undergarments if there were any. It felt like you were in a retail store! So exciting---

Feet coming to a slow pause they eventually stopped moving and billow of dust remained underfoot. Your eyes wanted to blink, but you were unable to stop. Caesar must have seen you, having rounded you and obscured your vision from what you were focused on in a darkened corner. He didn't touch you, he wasn’t sure if that was allowed as tears slid down your cheeks.

One at a time before they came down in a torrential rain. You pushed past him as if he weren’t even there and trailed forward, dropping to your knees without reserve as you grasped the small teddy bear into your hands. There was a name embroidered upon it. Fingers touched the thread, pink in color. Cedar.

Caesar drew near you carefully, the sob you let out was nothing short of shocking and he felt the hackles of his fur standing on edge as if someone were there intentionally hurting you.

“A… baby…” You whimpered to him, holding up the bear for him to take. He saw nothing special about it as he grasped it with one hand and you shuffled on your hands and knees, baring the pain it was causing you against the tile flooring and came upon a few tangled up pieces of clothing. Small. So… So very small… “Th-They had a baby…” Crying out again, you grasped the clothing and held it in your hands before falling back onto your butt, “Do-do you think they-they’re still alive?” Caesar had no words, his eyes widened at the turmoil you were suddenly thrusted in. No explanation, perhaps those… Pregnancy hormones you had joked about from time to time, Caesar thought and narrowed his eyes on you. He didn't… know how to comfort you. You were crumbling down right in front of him.

He knew you were going to need help getting off the ground though, and he was careful to crouch next to you. Plucking the baby clothing out of your hand, he placed them lightly onto the floor, your eyes squeezing shut and without a word, you collapsed right against. Caesar was fast to react, grunting a small bit as he moved himself, and then you enough to get your body to sit in his actual arms rather than against him.

“B-B-B-...” You stuttered, the Ape hoisting you upwards to get you out of the dusty nature of the floor, you clung onto him tightly. “Do-Do you think they…” Caesar surged a bit at your implied questions, grasping you that much tighter. The side of your bump conformed against his broad chest. “I--- I am sure they got out. That they are fine.” He did not feel comfortable bluntly lying about something that he had no basis for, but as the tears fell from your eyes, as you grasped his forearm tightly, your fingers digging to the point where you were touching his skin and no longer his fur, Caesar didn't care. He’d lie his tongue off just to get you to a sense of comfort.

Bumping Foreheads. ( Drabble 5. )

The water surging against your back felt incredible. Pressing your hands to the small of your back, right above your tailbone you grunted gently and eased back into the chill of the small waterfall you had been blessed to enjoy in the spotting Summer evenings. It was still early in the season, but it was beckoning you more and more to enjoy. You knew that Caesar was in the area - probably only meters away, and paying his eyes attention elsewhere as to not see you naked, but his hearing and his scent were always on the prowl. Three times a week he’d bring you to the secluded waterfall, letting you bathe and release the tension he knew that your body was going through.

You were large - to the point where you had accidentally bumped into a bowl of blueberries this morning and it went tumbling down the rock face. Before you managed to cry though, Blue Eyes began eating them right off the ground and Caesar even blessed you with a mild joke of ‘they… are not completely… ruined’. That did make you feel better as you sniffled and nodded in agreement. All things were cleared away when you took in the water, letting the chill seep into your pores as you tilted your head backwards to let it drain against your face. Feeling the kick on the side of your stomach, you winced at the severity of it against your ribs as your baby had turned to start playing against the bones there to let you know they were content with the water too. Maybe a bit cold for their tastes, but they were snuggly inside of your stomach, wrapped in eternal warmth until you were ready. Until they were ready, you thought, laughing and pressing your fingers against the side of your abdomen. They reacted right away to your touch, something like a hand or foot pushing back and you took in the sight of your stomach stretching with their movements.

You had no care in the world anymore. Hell, you thought to yourself in your bliss of the moment, you’d let Caesar see you bare in all your glory. It was the most comfortable. Clothes were restricting, especially in the heat that started to stick around in the early afternoons into the evenings. You thought about that again… You’d… Let Caesar see you either way. The vague notion left you more than amused. He must have thought it pretty grotesque what your body was doing to itself in a bid to grow another Human.

The stretching of your skin, the wild-card emotions that you became comfortable letting loose around him, your breasts were unfortunately too big for any of your undergarments and you were unable to find one that was accommodating and you ended up going the last few weeks without one. You could have sworn you’d seen him staring at them, but that could have just been in your mind as ravishing ideas ran through you and rested rather uncomfortably between your legs when Caesar stared at you a bit too long. How you tried to push aside the feeling.

The pestering in the back of your head. Maybe, just the hormones, you tried to convince yourself over and over. You were pregnant, you were alone… It made sense, right? To… Want to be… satisfied? Your thoughts came to a slow stop as you looked down at yourself. Unable to see your feet, you still wiggled your toes like you were able to and sighed deeply. He probably found you unattractive beyond belief.

“Are you… done?” Caesar asked, not shouting but loud enough for you to hear over the waterfall itself. He was close, as you had suspected, his deep baritone coming from the right of you. “Nearly sundown.”

“Yes. Can you toss my blanket on the shore for me to grab?” You asked, waddling yourself out of the water's way and into the open space of the small river that the water trickled into, grasping your hair and wringing it out. That was the rule. He’d throw your blanket on the ground, you’d wrap yourself up in it so he couldn’t see you naked, and you’d dry yourself, re-cloth your body and head back to the Colony, less than a click to the west.

With your arms still in your hair and your eyes shut as you enjoyed the last feelings of water against you, you could hear Caesar moving. Figuring that the blanket had been placed previously, you thought nothing of it and thought that he was just moving out of the way again as to not see you bare. Releasing your hair with a small groan, you opened your eyes and looked at the shore. Green.

Green eyes.

Green eyes staring at you.

Green eyes staring at you while you were naked.

Caesar didn't move. It appeared he was completely frozen, blanket still in his hands and you were flashing him without reserve. If you were able to move quickly, you were sure you would but you found it difficult to do as you wadded through the water with a fast paced waddle. At least, it was fast for you, it probably looked pretty comical to the Ape. Caesar was still frozen, his eyes had drifted downwards towards your chest to linger for a moment before they finally rested right on your bump. Protruding… And not appealing, you groaned internally and clutched the blanket right out of his hand and untangled it.

“Caesar.”

Nothing, he was still looking at your bump as you wrapped the blanket around your shoulders. “Caes--” Your hands were grasped. Actually, it was more or less your wrists and with one swoop, the blanket was pooling at your feet and you brought your knees together for a moment when he caught eyes with you before they trailed right back down your body. Supple breasts, he noted, nice, nice bump, he had only really seen a pregnant human this close to him through the screen of a TV back when he was with Will.

The rounding, dipping between your legs--- Caesar stopped himself at that and trailed his gaze back upwards to rest right on the top of your bump, looking down at it. Being self-conscious finally hit you as you tried to hide yourself away from the judgment he was placing down on you, but Caesar just… Admired. You supposed that was the right word, you had no premonition as to what he was thinking or what he was do---

Without even asking, his hand was placed on you. Not just on you, but on the bump that encased your baby. Right on the underside of it, he drew his hand in as far in as it would go. Shuddering at the chilly nature of his already leathery skin, your eyes widened, mouth ajar as your breathing had picked up.

With your mind racing, you were frantic to look into his eyes to get any idea of what he was thinking, even if it meant you needed to tear his head open just to get a glimpse. Your bottom lip quivered at the feeling, a direct response your body was giving to the fact that you were being touched. No, no… Your knees went weak for a second, but Caesar grasped you with his free hand under your elbow to keep you steady, refusing to relent control on your stomach. You were being caressed.

“I-I’m probably fatter than the Apes get.” You tried to get him to look at you, you tried to get him to say something other than standing defenseless. “I---” Gasping quietly, Caesar moved his hand from the undercarriage to the top where he brushed the pads of his fingers in the most feather-like way he was able to muster. It tickled, but you bit your tongue in a bid to see what he was doing. You knew, oh how you knew now, he wasn’t going to hurt you.

“Have never seen…” He started.

“Yeah, well, we get fat.” You joked again, jolting your shoulders forward for you to cup your arms on top of your bump and shield yourself from his eyes. Before you even had a chance to do that though, Caesar's free hand that had previously been cupping your elbow moved. You had no time to react as he cupped the back of your head and brought it towards his own. Breathless, not due to the baby for once, you swallowed hard, shutting your eyes and let it happen. Caesar’s forehead lightly kissed your own.

Lightly at first, but as he tangled his thick fingers into your hair, he pulled your neck towards his own with a bit more fever, his own eyes squeezing shut at the silent admittance. The hand that was tracing your bump remained, but now was placed on the side. His entire hand spread, finger to finger, across the entire scape of your skin and you sunk into it with a small moan of satisfaction. This… you thought, letting your eyes flutter open for just one moment so you could see him this close to you. This was where you belonged.

Birth. ( Drabble 6. )

The intensity of your screams were not for the faint of heart, and you figured that was the case and shared sentiment of the Female Ape midwives that flanked your entire body, one working diligently between your legs to gauge your dilation. Caesar had known it to be hard for Humans, their babies were much larger than Ape babies and required a lot more pushing and vigor to actually induce birth. Hours, he thought to himself, his eyes tired and red around the edges, his hand, as tough as it had been for years, was nothing more than a swelled appendage from your hand grasping at it so tightly, fingernails digging into the calloused skin when another contraction set in your vision and racked your entire body of all senses.

You were beyond sweating, you felt like you were swimming as Caesar brought his free hand up to wipe some of your wet hair away from your face. His skin felt cold against you, and for that, you leaned your head into the small wave of affection from him before another shot of pain dripped through you relentlessly.

“I can’t do this!” You cried, your knees shaking as the midwife looked at Caesar who only nodded with a hard swallow. They were telling him in silence that you were ready.

“You can.” He assured, but that felt fruitless as you hunched forward, bump contouring all sorts of ways in a very unnatural way that made even Caesar uncomfortable but he was steady fast and refused to leave your side. He knew this, he had been through this with Cornelia… He tried to not linger on that for too long.

Things would be different, he tried to keep optimism alive as the midwife told you verbally that it was time to push. The extrusion on your face caused the Ape King to shut his eyes for a moment as you grunted out, attempting to push the baby from your body to greet the world. Yes… He laxed himself and reached around your entire head to hold onto you as you screamed to the highest heavens, things were going to be different. You… You could do this. You were going to preserver and you would have a new addition to the family that Caesar had already provided for you. He knew he couldn’t cry, not in front of the others, but how he just wanted to take all your pain away. It was hard not to go feral, the simple smell of your blood and sweat were eradicating his entire nose. He didn't dare look down and kept his green gaze focused on the side of your face as he was propped next to you, laying in the nest. “Ohhhh my god!” You jolted with another push, breathing rapidly and it felt like your entire chest was suddenly on fire after being cold for so long. Plunged into an ice bath and then sent to the depths of a volcano. “Caesar!” One more. The midwife signed at Caesar one handed, the other properly braced between your legs.

“You need to give one more,” Caesar said and brought his hand through your hair once more. Swallowing, you felt a shudder run down your spine at the prospect of having to give it more despite giving it your all already. You were being torn in half, someone grasping both legs and pulling with all their might and they wanted you to give more. Strangling a cry out, Caesar brought his forehead down and planted it directly onto yours. “One more…”

As if a robot shocked back to life, Caesar still holding onto your head and moving forward as you braced yourself, you gave it one more as commanded. The sheer terror of your scream faded into the wails of a baby… A… baby… Your mind fogged. Concern swept over the Ape as he grasped the side of your face. “A girl,” He told you, breathing against your cheek and right into your ear, “A girl.”

Repeating that seemed to bring you right back from the trenches as tears flooded down your face, mixing deliciously with the sweat that had fallen from your forehead. Even now, you felt you were unable to breathe as you tried to smile - It was a forced grin of sorts, Caesar could tell that you were still in pain, but the crying of the baby… Caesar finally allowed himself to look down as the midwife was fast to adjust them properly in their arms before drifting upwards carefully to place them against your bare chest.

They were smeared with blood but… His eyes admired their small features. Carbon copies almost of your own when you were scrunched up for sleep. You have done it. You… Grew this… You made this Human and you preserved through the endeavors of birth. You began crying alongside your baby, hands reaching up and grasping at them lightly to keep them close to your chest.

“Girl.” You finally managed to say something, your throat dry and incredibly hoarse. “Girl?” Asking that to your mate, he nodded and brought a hand up to rest against the child's small head.

“Girl.” Caesar confirmed.

Bonus ending:

Blue Eyes… Was incredibly cautious upon hearing the wailing of a human baby to the point where he grasped at Caesar’s chest with his small frame with all his might, his gaze intent on staring down whatever was causing the noise. With a small hush, you got them to quiet down against you, now lightly wrapped in a blanket you had for this very moment.

‘New sister.’ Caesar signed for the Prince, looking at the now newly adorned princess with a soft gaze. ‘Say hello.’ He was still hesitant, but at the urging of Caesar himself as he placed Blue Eyes on the nest by your feet, you both watched in anticipation as the small Chimp moved his way up your body, making eye contact with you in a flurry of affection and happiness that you were still here. It had been an entire day where you and Caesar were gone and he was left to hang with the other Young Apes with Maurice, and he hadn’t the slightest clue where you were until now. Until… He crawled onto your shoulder as he so often did, your eyes shutting for a moment as he played along your hair before his gaze fell to the bundle in your arms.

It was your turn to speak, “Blue,” He looked at you, suddenly frantic at the sound of your voice like he had forgotten, “This is your baby sister… Cedar.”

Bonus Ending ( 2 ):

Three Months Later.

Caesar, in his wildest dreams, never imagined he’d be holding a human baby, let alone the one of his mate. His tender gaze rested on you as you were laying in the nest, wrapped tightly in for a nap with Blue Eyes resting beside you, as he had offered to care for the baby that afternoon when you complained of being adversely tired. He did worry upon his offering that it would be difficult to care for them alone, but he didn't realize just how much they actually slept and Cedar seemed really intent on doing that in the warmth of her Father’s arm.

He drew his gaze down to look at her.

So small, and so gentle… Every day, Caesar thought to himself, she looked more like you. So beautiful.

Was she… Caesar’s brows furrowed for a moment at the curling of the baby’s mouth. She was… Smiling. Right up at him. Familiar, her head tilted towards Caesar’s chest minutely but the movement was there for him as he swallowed hard at the sight.

She smiled at him.

Bonus Ending ( 3 ):

Five Years Later.

“Cedar, you need to get down from that tree right now!” You yelled, looking at the Chimp sitting next to the human, high up off the ground. Well, not that high up. Maybe two or three meters at the most but the idea of a fall was not for the faint of heart as the two young laughed.

‘We climb higher,’ Blue Eyes signed to his sister. ‘That way mom cannot find us.’

There wasn’t any contemplation. Cedar nodded in agreement, grabbing the bark and began her ascent.

“CAESAR!!! OUR SON BROUGHT OUR DAUGHTER INTO A TREE AND I CAN’T GET THEM DOWN! I SWEAR THEY GET THIS UNRULY BEHAVIOR FROM YOUR SIDE OF THE FAMILY!”

#caesar #caesar x reader #planet of the apes #pota #pota x reader #planet of the apes x reader

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familyvideostevie · 6 months

Text

time you will not spend alone

joel miller x fem!reader, 18+ mdni romance at the end of the world is this: flowers, lazy nights in bed after long days, and savoring every moment | or, joel makes you something. jackson!joel au, fem!reader, fluff, maybe a bit cheesy but idgaf, ellie cameo cause i can't do a damn thing without her, tommy gets some page time here too, smut (riding, unprotected p in v sex, some finger sucking lol), tenderness, gift giving | 5.7k a/n: i think this is the last part of the just and just as series for the foreseeable future. thank you for reading about this little au and these two lovebirds! i adore them. thank you @frannyzooey and @macfrog for your eyes and support on this. and thank you everyone else for being patient. <3

Spring sweeps into the valley seemingly overnight. The peaks remain snow-capped but the bare branches of trees between the evergreens begin to bud. Chilly mornings lose their bite and frost turns to dew and every day there is more light.

You've always thought Jackson looks its best in winter, but it's a damn sight to see as life and color return. And the latter is your favorite part -- the rolling hills outside the walls and the forest patrol paths are dotted and then overflowing with flowers.

It makes you feel more alive. Patrol isn't a freezing ordeal anymore -- it's an opportunity to see the remaining beauty in the world.

Today's shift is short and easy but you find yourself lingering, running your hands through pine needles and turning your face to the sun. Your horse is happy to munch on a patch of grass in a clearing just off the main trail, but your patrol partner is less than impressed.

"Are you serious?" Ellie moans. "You're stopping again? What the fuuuuuuuuck."

She sags in the saddle. The pout on her lips makes her look like a kid sent to bed without supper rather than an almost-twenty-year-old forced to spend some extra minutes in the fresh air. Shimmer has no problem chewing on some weeds despite her rider's moaning.

"Let me enjoy the sun," you say. "When you get older you'll appreciate the little things, too."

You hop off your horse and Ellie sighs loudly.

"Jesus, you're not that old," she mutters. "Seriously, what are you doing?"

You sweep your arms around you, gesturing at the meadow. "These flowers are nice," you tell her, pointedly. She adjusts the rifle slung over her shoulder. "I think I'm going to pick some and bring them home."

She snorts. "Oh, is Joel suddenly into flowers?"

You ignore her bait and crouch, gaze sweeping over the array of colors in front of you. You tried to learn the names of flowers years ago when you found a book on them in an old bookstore but they never stuck. Purples, pinks, and yellows, large petals and small ones, delicate yet hardy to survive the world past its end.

Joel isn't a fussy man. Young fathers don't get to be, and anyone alive these days sheds that impulse just as quickly. He's happy to wake up every day with you by his side, his kid in the garage out back and walls around everything he loves, keeping it all safe.

It makes it both easy and hard to please him -- you want to give him everything but he seems to want nothing. A perfect paradox, a puzzle to solve.

God, you love him. You love spring, you love Joel. Everything feels good.

So, you start to gather stems, snapping them at their bases, humming as you work.

"How do you choose which ones to pick?"

"Fuck," you gasp, careening forward onto one palm and looking over your shoulder. Ellie is off her horse and much closer than before, standing directly behind you. "Jesus, you're stealthy."

She shrugs, her smirk a pleased slash across her face. "You're oblivious as fuck."

You roll your eyes at her.

"Seriously," Ellie says, crossing her arms. She jerks her chin at the small bouquet you've got in one hand. "How do you make it look so nice?"

"Oh, so we've moved on from the making-fun-of-me part of this?"

She crouches next to you, elbows on her knees.

"I, uh -- " Her cheeks go pink, freckles standing out against her blush. "Dina likes flowers."

You bump her shoulder with yours. "I'm going to be so nice and not tease you."

"Fuck off," she scoffs, tucking her smile into her shoulder.

It's quick work. Ellie follows your lead, balances out the blooms she picks with some leafy weeds. She ties them together with one of the minimum four spare hairbands she has on her person at all times -- bits of cloth, occasionally a rare unused elastic from before if she's found some on patrol.

"Isn't it kinda shitty?" she muses, nimble fingers turning her bouquet this way and that to admire it. "We're killing them. The flowers, I mean."

"Little late to have a conscience about killing," you say lightly. The two rabbits she pulled from Jackson snares hang from her saddle. You've seen her in action, too -- gun raised, hands steady, blood splattered across her cheek. It's not an accusation, far from it. Violence is a language you both speak, one she's known for most of her still-short life.

She rolls her eyes, every bit a teenager. "Whatever."

You sigh. "You're right, though," you say. "There were whole shops dedicated to this before. Selling flowers, making bouquets and centerpieces and all that shit."

She probably knows this, but she lets you describe it. Ellie soaks up bits of the old world like it will materialize before her if she listens hard enough. Joel says it was much worse when she was younger, right after they settled into Jackson. She wanted details about everything and watched every movie she could get her hands on. You think she was satisfying her curiosity, sure, but also that she was trying to understand him better -- but didn't know how to say so.

"Weird," she mutters. "And you just...bought them for other people?"

"Or yourself." You pat her shoulder and stand. Your horse tries to nibble on your flowers before you haul yourself back in the saddle. "It was just a nice thing to do, I guess."

"Killing something to make someone else happy," Ellie says with a dry laugh. She tucks her bouquet in the crook of her arm once she's back in the saddle. "I guess everyone does that these days."

It's absurd when she puts it that way, but it's true. You've all got blood on your hands. You would kill for this girl, for Joel, for pretty much anyone in Jackson. And you have.

The flowers are for Joel, they're for your house, they're for you. Something beautiful to bring home alongside your dirt stains and scarred hands, your haunted eyes and nightmares. No one is spared those.

It's only mid-morning by the time you get back to the wall. You and Ellie left at dawn, short sticks drawn for the early shift. She leaves you in the stables with a mock salute and a shout of thanks, practically jogging to Dina's to give her the flowers.

You're untacking your horse when you hear familiar laughter, a deep chuckle and Ellie's faint indignant protest.

"Mornin'," Joel says from behind you. "Was hopin' to catch you at the gate."

"Can you hold these?"

You blindly extend the hand with the flowers. His fingers carefully extract the bouquet and you return to brushing out your horse.

"Does this have somethin' to do with Ellie runnin' out of her with flowers of her own?"

"Never let anyone say you're unobservant, Joel Miller."

He snickers. You leave your horse with a final pat on the neck and thanks for a job well done.

When you face Joel, he looks tired -- he's been pulling extra long days replacing windows and roof tiles after the winter's damage. God knows that man never seems fully rested, but it's a little worse when the seasons change.

He's told you time and time again that standing two stories off the ground is a hell of a lot safer than fighting some Infected on patrol, but you still worry. Just like you know he worries about you beyond the walls, how he's a little tenser whenever you're not in sight, whenever he hasn't seen Ellie for a few days ‘cause they're both busy. It's just how he loves. It's how you both love.

You make no move to take the flowers from him, instead brushing some sawdust from his shoulder.

"Did you have a job already?" you ask.

"Small one. Fixin' a crooked over mailbox." He looks pointedly at his full fist. "You gonna explain now?"

"They're for you."

Joel blinks once, twice, brows furrowing like you're speaking a different language. Maybe a few years ago you'd start to feel self-conscious, unsure of your romantic gesture and insecure in his reaction. But now, as fully in love and connected to this man as you are, you lean in.

"If you're too manly to carry flowers through town --"

You make to take them from him but he snaps out of his daze and wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you to his chest in a smooth motion.

He also holds the bouquet in the air and out of reach.

"Hey, now," he says. "Hands off. These ain't your flowers."

"I picked 'em," you remind him, poking him in the ribs for good measure.

He flinches just a little but doesn't move. His embrace is warm and familiar and you sink into it. "Gettin' romantic," he mutters and brings the flowers back down to eye level to examine them.

"I'm just trying to catch up to you," you say into his jacket. He huffs and his palm rubs a slow line up and down your arm.

You wiggle out of his embrace to shoulder your pack.

"I am pretty romantic," he muses.

It's true. Even if he's joking and even if no one but you gets to see it, Joel has always made sure you feel loved. Courtship and romance look different these days, but it still comes naturally to him -- loving. Dinner dates, jewelry, and trips to the airport have become a battered paperback, a sharpened knife, and bloody knuckles, but it rings just as true. He loves you and he loves his family the best way he knows how – by keeping you all safe.

And you do your best to convey the same thing. You tell him, of course, but you also mend his shirts and chop wood when his back is acting up, and you look after his kid like she's your own.

Joel deserves to know that he can receive all that he gives, too – the protection, the tenderness, the beauty. Moments of softness and rest where he knows he’s taken care of, thought of, that he matters beyond the things he can do for everyone else.

So, you also do things like bring him flowers.

Sometimes you feel like it will never be enough. You will never have enough time to show him how much he means to you, how he's saved you, how important and cherished and loved he is. How good he is.

Joel reaches for your face with his free hand. He traces the line of your cheekbone with his thumb and smirks when you inhale sharply. Another patrol returns and the stables are suddenly louder and more crowded than before. If you're both free for the rest of the day, you want to drag him up to your bedroom and spend the hours there. You want to show him, for the millionth time, how much you love him.

"Okay, Mr. Pretty Romantic," you say, grabbing his hand and tangling your fingers together. "Let's go home."

___

Joel is hiding something from you.

The flowers last for a week and you watch him eye them and smile every time he enters the kitchen.

But after they droop and go in the compost pile, something shifts. Something subtle, sure, but you spend most of your waking hours looking for or at Joel, so you notice.

He starts keeping his workshop door closed. Normally you'll sit and watch him work, or he'll teach you a few chords here and there on the guitars he's making, but your lessons move to the porch and the upstairs hallway loses the scent of wood glue and stain.

In fact, he actively steers you away from the room altogether. He's all just needs a deep clean and it's messy, is all. It's not rocket science -- he's making something for you, clearly. But giving him a hard time is too fun to pass up.

One night, you and Ellie wait at the bottom of the stairs. There's a dinner and movie night in the old church and you're taking the opportunity to make it a family outing.

"You coming?" you holler up the stairs. You hear the door creak open.

"Gimme a second," he calls back down.

"Jesus," you mutter. You tap the side of Ellie’s sneaker with your boot. "You know anything about that?"

Honesty is important between all of you, but you know Joel and Ellie need to have their secrets. There is too much tangled history between them for you to understand it all. It's important to you that they have a relationship all their own, even if it means they scheme.

Ellie is examining her switchblade with intense focus. "I might," she says with a smirk. "He's a lovesick loser, I'll tell you that."

You lean on the banister and raise your eyebrows. "Do you remember when you asked me how to embroider so you could put Dina's name on her jacket?"

The knife swings closed with a snick and she rolls her eyes at you, cheeks pink.

"Shit, dude," she says. "Why do I tell you anything?"

"She liked the flowers, though, didn't she?"

Ellie crosses her arms and smiles at whatever memory she's seeing in her mind. "Yeah," she says. "She did. Jesse gave me so much shit, though --"

The door upstairs closes and Joel's heavy footfalls cut her off.

"Finally," you grumble. He trods down the stairs, arms half in his jacket when he catches sight of the two of you. "Are you hiding state secrets in there?"

"What the fuck does that mean?" Ellie asks.

"Might be," is all he says. He's got that twinkle in his eye that means mischief but he looks proud of himself. You can let him have this, whatever this is. You trust him and you'll find out eventually.

"Alright," you say, pushing off the banister and heading for the door. "You're going to breathe toxic fumes with the door closed."

"No, seriously," Ellie says. "What kind of secrets would a state be keeping?"

"Ain't nothin' toxic in there," he says lightly. He bumps Ellie's shoulder with his. "C'mon."

She throws her hands up in the air. "You know, it's shitty when you ignore me."

"Did you hear somethin'?" Joel says to you.

You shake your head, swallowing your laughter. "No," you say. "Nothing."

"Assholes." She pushes past you and down the steps onto the street. "I'm going to make sure there are no mashed potatoes left when you get there."

You don't mind letting Joel do whatever he's up to in all of his spare moments. It does mean you have more time to yourself, so you pick up some extra wall shifts.

And when one of those shifts is with Tommy? Well, you can't help but needle him a little bit about it all.

"Do you know what your brother is up to?" you ask him.

The wind today carries some lingering winter bite, so you've got the collar of your coat pulled up around your ears. Tommy’s hair whips around his face when he raises his eyebrows at you.

"Gonna have to be more specific," he says. "My brother is always up to some shit."

"I think he'd say the same thing about you."

Tommy laughs. He's got the reputation for being the more easy-going of the Millers, but you know he's more a match for Joel than most think. Out in the world, they work as one, silent and deadly, always in step when it counts. They still speak a language all their own with just a look and you see so much of them in each other when you pay attention.

"Well, I learned it all from him," he says. He adjusts his grip on the rifle and sighs. "I happen to know what you're talkin' 'bout, though."

"Is he just telling everyone but me?"

"Nah," Tommy scoffs. "Asked me and Ellie for help, s'all. And you know he tells that girl everythin'."

You both smile for a moment at your fondness for them.

Tommy clears his throat. "Does it bother you? Him keepin' a secret?"

You know Tommy won't let your answer get back to Joel. He's asking as your friend, as your kind-of brother. He's asking because he cares.

A patrol crests the hill, green flag waving in the air. They whistle and shout for the gate to be opened.

You step closer to Tommy so he can hear you. "No," you say. "I just like to gossip."

"Don't I know it," he chuckles. "You two are the eyes and ears of this damn town. Knowin' everything."

"Except what happens in my own home," you tease.

He shrugs. "You'll like it, if that helps," he adds.

"I know I will."

You look out at the world beyond the wall and smile to yourself.

Joel has made you a few things over the years. He works wonders with his hands all the time: Beautiful, intricate carvings for the house, for Ellie, for new babies in town. The wall of guitars, not to mention the ones he's made for kids to learn on in school. You're better at sewing than he is, but he's pretty damn good – fixing up pillowcases and blankets and clothes of all kinds. Joel is a craftsman.

Hands that hold you can also pull a trigger, punch until there's nothing left, and craft a work of art.

And he knows you. He pays attention -- there is a reason behind everything he does. If he's making you something, you know you'll love it.

"Strange, ain’t it?" Tommy says. You turn to him, a question on your face. "World ended and here we all are, happy. Makin' shit for each other. Gosspin'."

You sigh. “Took a lot to get here.”

“Damn right,” he says with a long whistle. “Lotta shit behind us.”

“Do you ever regret it?” you ask.

Tommy considers your words. You two talk plenty, but you’ve never really spoken about the past. Joel tells you whatever you want to hear about the years before you knew him, so you’ve got a pretty good picture of their lives after the outbreak.

"Can I tell you somethin’?” Tommy asks. You nod. "Alright. I – I never thought I'd see my brother this happy again. And I wish every damn day that Sarah was here to see it. To know him this way, to meet Maria. To know you and Ellie."

Joel has said the same thing before and it’s an honor greater than you can ever explain.

"When I saw him and that girl a few years ago, I thought --" Tommy clears his throat. "I thought maybe he’d made it through all the shit we did. And I was right. She brought him through it. And now he’s here, doin’ stable life shit we dreamed about before."

"Ellie is a force," you say, a little surprised to find your voice watery. The love between Ellie and Joel is fierce and powerful, evident to anyone who witnesses it. They would do anything for each other, even though they're mending.

"She is," he says. "And so are you.” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Shit, I don’t know where I’m goin’ with this. Point is – seein' him love you, too, shows me he’s through it. He's alive again, you know? And I’d do all the shit we did over again just to get us all here. So, no. I don’t regret it."

It’s nothing you haven’t thought before, but the words work their way into your heart and sit there, heavy and warm.

“Damn,” you say. You swallow and give him a wide smile. "If you keep going, Tommy Miller, I will start crying and that would embarrass us both."

He laughs and blinks a few times. You join in, wiping your eyes.

"Alright, I won't," he says. "Jesus, all you did was ask what he's doin' in that workshop."

You clap him on the shoulder. "I won't tell anyone you started blubbering on duty."

He snorts. "Ain't that generous of you.”

Days pass. A week. You almost forget about Joel's project because he spends less and less time in the workshop and more on tasks around town as the days get longer. You're both busy -- chopping wood, planting bulbs for the fall, helping de-shed the horses. There's always work to be done.

After a particularly long day on your feet, you come out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel to find he's gotten home while you were in the shower.

"Hey, stranger," you say. You're mostly dry but some water drips down your back and you shiver. Joel is leaning against the headboard on top of the sheets without his shirt, reading whatever book he's onto now.

"Didn't hear me come in?" he asks. He sets his volume aside and pulls off his glasses.

"I was too busy coming back to life under some hot water." He probably heard you singing off-key to some long-lost song stuck in your head for the millionth time. "And you're quiet as hell, Joel."

He shrugs.

You just look at each other, the intimate gaze of two people who know every inch of each other and never tire of it.

The sleep pants he wears to bed this time of year are lightweight, thin enough that you can see the outline of him from here. His stomach is soft where he's bent at the waist and the trail of hair above his waistband is dark, darker than the rest of what's on his chest.

The golden expanse of his skin just begs to be touched, so you make your way over to him in your towel. He makes room for you to perch on the edge of the bed, the bare skin of your thigh pressing into his pants. His palm rests on your knee.

"I haven't seen much of you lately," you say softly. "’Cause of that damn thing you're working on."

His fingers press into your skin.

"Ain't patience a virtue, or something like that?"

"Whatever magic you're working better be worth waiting for," you tease.

Joel's hand resumes its path up your leg and he smirks.

"I can work some magic right now," he says.

You laugh, throwing your head back as his fingertips edge under the towel.

"That was awful," you say. "I should get dressed in all of my layers right now and go sleep on the couch."

You pull away from his touch so you can straddle him, your towel only held on by one hand at your breasts.

Joel snickers. "But then I wouldn't be able to do this."

Nimble fingers find your cunt between your spread legs and you gasp a laugh, one hand on his shoulder to balance you in his lap.

"Smooth," you manage. His other hand tugs on the towel and you release it, your slightly damp skin breaking out into goosebumps in the air of the bedroom.

Joel drags his lips between your breasts and you feel his smile.

"Christ," he says. "You comin' outta there in just a towel and you expect me to go to sleep?"

He pulls his fingers from you and frames your face with both hands to drag it down to his in a lazy, thorough kiss, like he's savoring each moment.

His tongue traces the seam of your lips and you let him in readily, arms wrapping around his shoulders as you grind down on the hardness you can feel through his pants.

"I've missed you," you say, dragging your tongue along down his jaw. His fingertips press into your bare hips hard enough to bruise, but it's a grounding touch rather than an urgent one. You want to take your time because you have missed him, and you think he feels the same way.

"Sorry, sweetheart," Joel groans, dragging your lips back to his. "It'll be worth it."

You pull back to look him in the eyes. The hazel-grey is almost totally taken over by his pupil, but his gaze softens when you cup his cheek and smile.

"I know," you say, and mean it. Naked in his lap in your bedroom, you mean it. You always mean it. You always trust him.

Joel kisses you once, twice, and you pull on his lower lip with your teeth when he pulls away. His nostrils flare and before you can tug his cock from his pants, he holds two fingers out to you.

You laugh, circling his wrist and bringing the digits past your lips. You swirl your tongue around them and really take your time with it, laving at his knuckles before releasing them with a pop.

His cock twitches beneath you and he huffs.

"You're an easy man to please, Joel Miller," you tell him, tugging down his pants and letting his shaft spring free. You stroke him root to tip and he hisses.

"Nah," he manages. "It's ‘cause it's you."

He follows his words with a circle of your clit from his spit-slick fingers.

"See?" you gasp. "Romantic."

It's a bit crowded, his hand rubbing your clit and yours slowly jerking him, but neither of you rush it. You pant together, dotting lazy kisses on any piece of bare skin you can reach. You breathe him in, the combination of sweat and gun oil and fresh detergent that's just Joel. A rush of tenderness hits you so suddenly your nose stings.

"Joel," you say, a bit ragged. "Joel, can you --"

A gentle hand on your face brings your foreheads together, his eyes on yours.

"Whatever you want," he groans. "Whatever you want, it's yours."

You can't help it -- you laugh. Brightly and happily, almost in disbelief that this man is yours. Real and solid under you right now, beside you every night. Yours to love and cherish and all the rest.

"You laughin' at me?" he grumbles, though you can tell he's fighting a smile.

"I just love you, is all," you say. You probably don't say it enough. You and Joel show each other every day, so much so that you can't imagine he doesn't know. As it is, you feel loved by him with every move he makes, every time he looks in your direction, every time he says your name.

"And I want you to fuck me," you add.

It's Joel's turn to laugh.

"Now who's the romantic one?" he says.

You rise from his lap and settle onto your back on the other side of the bed, stretching with your hands above your head.

His eyes follow the line of your bare body, fondness and hunger recognizable in his gaze.

"Always so damn pretty," he grumbles. "Prettiest thing I've ever seen."

"Flirt," you tease.

He rises to his knees and pumps his cock a few times with his fist. You spread your legs for him, knees bent up against your chest.

He settles between your knees and you lock them around his hips. Joel honest-to-god winks at you before dragging two fingers through your folds to make sure you're slick enough.

"Ready?"

You nod. He enters you in one practiced move and you groan in unison as you adjust. It takes some shuffling but he finds a position he can hold, and you wrap your arms around his neck.

Joel fucks you slow and deep. Each drag of his cock against your walls curls your toes and drags whines from both of your throats. He keeps up his usual babel -- doin' so good, feel like a dream, so damn tight, cunt's a fuckin' miracle -- and you press your hands into his bare back like he's a life raft.

Sweat beats on your brow, your chest, everywhere, and you suck bruises into his neck as his thrusts get a little frantic. Your own orgasm sneaks up on you, the pressure building and building and building until it snaps without warning.

"Joel -- Joel, fuck, I --"

You clench around him and he chants your name, that's it, baby, come on my cock, and buries himself to the hilt to finish inside you.

He hovers above you on trembling arms long enough to press a sweet kiss to your lips before rolling off of you.

"Now I'm ready for bed," you say, panting.

You fling a hand out lazily and it lands on his chest. He intertwines your fingers and his gaze finds yours. You smile as you get your breathing under control.

Joel smooths your brow with a thumb. "Don't forget to --"

"I know, I know," you say. "C'mon, you know this isn't my first rodeo." You get up from the bed and head to the bathroom.

"You sayin' I'm a bull?" Joel calls after you.

"Save a horse, ride a cowboy!" you holler back, cleaning yourself up. "Didn't people used to say that?"

Joel doesn't answer you but you laugh at your own joke. You make your way back to the bed in old pyjamas and find him back in his sweatpants, feet flat on the floor like he's about to get up and go somewhere.

"Joel?"

He sighs, his shoulders moving up and down like he's bracing himself.

"It's done," he says. "Your surprise."

The confession stops you in your tracks.

"Oh?"

You know Joel better than mosty, but sometimes he's still a puzzle. The hesitation, the slight air of anxiety about him as he says it confuses you. Because Joel is good at taking care of people, and he has to know it -- those years he and Ellie didn't speak you know he left her things, know that he took care of her from afar as much as she would let him. It's just what he does, he uses his hands to beat and shoot and bloody – but also to carve and hold and love.

They're the same thing, really.

And he's made you something – one of countless gifts he's given you, tangible and not, throughout your relationship.

But he's nervous. As if you wouldn't love anything he made, anything he does. As if you're not gone over every part of him.

"Hm," he says. "Yeah. Let me --"

Joel gets up from the bed and pads over to the dresser to rummage around in a drawer. You meet him back on the bed and he's holding a square-ish parcel wrapped in cloth.

You gingerly take it from him.

"This is what you've been working on?" you ask softly. He nods.

You unwrap the cloth and find yourself holding leather-bound journal. The hide is smooth under your fingertips, scraped clean by hand and tanned a dark chestnut.The spine is about an inch wide, the whole thing swen together with neat stitches of what can only be catgut. A thinner strip of leather is wrapped around the cover and tucked into itself carefully. It must have taken him ages to make.

"Joel," you gasp. "It's...god, it's beautiful."

He tells you how he found it on patrol a few weeks ago. The cover was fucked but the paper was somehow fine, so he dried out the pages and rebound it with a hide he tanned himself. You run your hands over it again almost like you can feel his fingerprints all over it, the hours he poured into the pages.

The inside cover falls open easily when you undo the tie and you see letters in the bottom left corner of it. Your eyes sting.

Joel has carefully burned your name into the leather, each letter perfectly lined up with the next. You haven't had something with your name on it in years.

He clears his throat. "Ellie said she'd give you some of her pens. Show you how to refill 'em."

You look up from your gift and find so much love on his face you can hardly stand it. He was inside you not that long ago and somehow this is more intimate. You surge forward into his space and wrap an arm around his shoulders, burying your face in his neck.

"I don't know what to say," you confess. "Just -- thank you."

He runs his hand along your spine.

"S'nothin'," he says. "Just saw it and thought of you, is all."

You release him and shake your head in disbelief. This man.

"What should I write in it?"

Joel's cheeks darken a little. Of course he's thought of everything.

"Figured you could write about...all this." He waves a hand in the air like that explains anything.

"All what?"

He shrugs one bare shoulder.

"Life," he says. "Jackson. Folks here. Might be nice, havin' the memories."

You scoot closer to him so you're almost in his lap again.

"You want me to write down the gossip?" You mean it as a joke but Joel nods.

"You pay attention," he explains. "Someone's gotta."

You're not much of a writer anymore, haven't had cause to be in twenty years. But you do like to tell stories. You both do.

The pages are soft under your fingertips as you flip through them again. You're going to fill them with stories -- about this town, about Joel and Ellie and Tommy and the people you love. The people you've lost, too. The memories that hurt like bruises, like fresh wounds. But the good stuff, too. The gossip, the love stories, the plants in the yard and the flowers on the trails.

Joel has given you the ability to record your lives.

You reach over him to set the journal on the nightstand before you frame his face with both of your hands.

"I'm going to write pages and pages about you, Joel Miller," you whisper.

He huffs, cheeks warm under your palms. "That's borin'."

You shake your head and lean in until your lips brush and your eyes flutter shut.

"That's the story," you say. "That's my life. This is my life. You are."

“I love you,” he breathes. “So damn much. Y’know that?”

How could you not? You say so and kiss him firmly but without hurry. You’ve got lots of time. You’ve got forever.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction

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lunajay33 · 5 months

Text

Save a Horse🍂

Summary: Wandering around in the apocalypse was hell until you came across a a ranch, finding a injured horse you helped it finding the owner and things getting a little heated with an older cowboy

Pairing: Cowboy Negan Smith x f!reader

Warning: Age gap, reader is in 20s Negan is mid 40s, p in v, praise, virginity lose

Inspired by @lanadelnegan stories🤎

•Masterlist•

The apocalypse hit and everything happened so fast, I was with my family at our farm for some time watching the news, listening to the horror stories on the radio, we thought that we could go unscathed since we hadn’t been affected and that all the food and water we needed was on our land but all that changed one night when a hoard of walkers ran down our farm, my parents were first trying to fight of the walkers, quickly being ripped apart their screams still lingered in my head whenever I thought about them, then it was my two sisters trying to flee but got surrounded taking them down as well, I was lucky enough to get to my truck finding an opening in the walkers and driving away from my home, leaving me all alone on the road

Now it’s been 2 years going from place to place just trying to survive, to find a reason to keep living in this cruel world, I’ve been able to dodge as many walkers as I can, that wasn’t the main problem anymore, the food shortage was what dwindled my hope

My truck had broke down a while back so now I’ve just been wandering on foot, walking through the trees trying to get some shade from Georgia summer heat when I hear a groan and thud, I follow the direction of the whines on a left of what have might caused it, walkers, people, god knows what now a days

Rounding a tree I see a horse laying down on the ground, I approached slowly not wanting to spook it having experience with horses back on the farm, kneeling in front of it petting its soft black mane

“Hey girl, what are you doing out here all alone?” She didn’t look injured she was laying down fine, maybe she just got hot it was one of the hottest days I’ve ever lived in even in Georgia

I took out one of the bottles of water I found poring some of it over her face to help cool her down then poring the rest in a bowl I had in my bag and she was quick to drink it

After some time I stood up taking her lead rope trying to get her to stand up, I couldn’t leave her here all alone for some walkers to eat her alive maybe she came from somewhere near by

Walking through the trees she would occasionally change our course more like she was leading me than I was her until we got to a break in the trees, a ranch in perfect condition, a few horses grazing the field, little sheep’s hoping around, a chicken coop and a cozy little cabin like house right in the middle of the land, a brown bronco truck parked out front

Opening the gate, closing it behind me and the horse so the other animals wouldn’t get out like she did somehow, when a deep voice stopped me in my tracks

“See ya brought Missy back, been wondering where she went off to” coming down the porch steps was a older man, cowboy hat, white shirt, blue jeans and boots, maybe it was the lack of human contact or even interactions but damn was he fine, I didn’t realize he was right infront of me till he cleared his throat breaking me out of my oogling

“Oh yeah, I found her out in the woods she must had heat exhaustion so I gave her some water” my stomach feels like it’s in knots, I haven’t felt like this in so long, he’s said a few words and I’m entranced by him

“A nice and pretty girl might just have to keep ya around darling” he smirked making my knees weak, but I still have my values I’m not just going to jump his bones even though the urge is so strong

“Oh I mean if you’re able to take me in I’ll earn my keep, help around the farm, anything I just…..I can’t stay out there alone any longer” I said praying he’d give me a chance, some hope

“Ya sure you know what you’re doing around a farm?” He asked as he looked me up and down, lingering on my chest

“I grew up on a farm, I know what I’m doing”

“Hmmm well come on in, see where you can stay” I let Missy go so she could run off with the others, following him inside, it was bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside, cute kitchen, wooden accents around the house, he kept walking down a hallways till he stopped at a room waiting for me to go in first, it was cozy, I don’t care if this place was trashy as long as I can be stress free and have someone to keep me company

“You like it?” He asked from the doorway

“I love it, thank you” I said as I sit on the bed letting out a long awaited sigh

“How long were you out there?”

“I don’t know time is hard to keep track of out there, maybe 2 years”

“Damn girl, 2 years did you atleast have someone out there?”

“My farm fell early taking my family with it when the walkers came, so it’s just been me until now”

He gave me a pitiful look it made the blood rush to my cheeks

“Come on darlin, supper should be done, should get some food in you” he said waving me out of the room and Im quick to follow him to the kitchen where I sit at the table as he dishes up some food, fresh food something I haven’t had in well forever it feels like

He sits across from me at the table taking his hat of showing his dark brown hair streaked with some grey, biting my lip to stop myself from fantasizing about running my hands through his hair, pulling on it as I feel his beard scratch against my legs

“So what’s your name darlin, like to call you something other than sweet names” he smirks obviously realizing my constant leering but he didn’t make it easy

“I’m fine with your little names but it’s y/n”

“You got a spark still considering how long you’ve been out there, how old are you even?”

“20 you?”

“Let’s just say I’m old enough to be your father”

“Not a problem for me” I said under my breath

A few weeks went by and I did what I said, working hard around the farm, waking up early to collect eggs from the chicken coop, feeding the horses and sheep, picking any ripe berries from the garden all before he was even up, no different from today, I laid berries on our plates and scrambled some eggs finishing right when he comes out of his room, scruffy hair, boxers and a black tank top showing off his tattoos, yes I earned my keep but the tension between us was growing stronger and stronger everyday, every touch, every long night of staying up talking I have to do something about it

“Morning Negan sleep well?” I asked as he sat across from me, our usual spots since that first day

“Great darlin, would’ve been better if you were next to me all night” he smirked, he’d do this tease me and act like it was nothing but it was something to me especially when I’d stay up late at night touching myself thinking of the things he’d say

“Negan you’re driving me crazy you know that” I said chomping on a strawberry

“You think I don’t hear you?”

“What?” My face flushed, please god don’t let it be what I think it is

“At night, when you think I’m fast asleep, I hear you moaning my name, whimpering when you can’t make yourself finish” he said his voice getting deeper as he leaned further across the table

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, I gotta go……..go clean up the hay” I said flustered and completely embarrassed standing up and leaving the house to the barn

OH MY GOD this is so embarrassing, he’s heard me touch my self to him what is wrong with me, it’s only been a week and I can’t control myself, maybe because he’s everything I want, strong sexy makes my knees weak and panties wet, plus I have so much pent up sexual frustration, growing up on a farm and not being allowed to date led to me now, a horny 20 year old fantasizing about a man who generously gave me shelter and food, I’m a mess, a horny mess that wants to ride this man all day long

I get to the barn pitchforking any loose straw back into the pile trying to figure out what I’m suppose to do now, how do I face him again after he’s heard me moan his name

“I can hear your crazy thoughts from here darling” I look to the barn door seeing him dressed in blue jeans, cowboy boots, his cowboy hat and a brown plaid

“I can’t take it anymore Negan, obviously you know that now, please just……..”

“Just what baby?” He asks his voice deeper again as he gets closer gripping my waist, his hands alone engulfing me

“Just touch me”

He leans down grabbing the back of my thighs lifting me to straddle his hips, my arms wrapped around his shoulders now face to face

“You sure you can handle this sweetheart?”

“I need it, I need you to fuck me please I’ve been so good” I say as he litters my neck with sloppy kisses

“You have, such a good girl for me, guess you deserve a big reward for that” he smirks as he squeezes my ass, laying my down in the hay pile

“Fuck you got me so hard, you know how hard it was to not bust into your room hearing your sweet moans just begging for me to plow this pussy?” He grips the bottom of my sundress hauling it off over my head leaving me in just my panties, my tits completely exposed

Hearing him groan as his hands roam my body, from my hips up my stomach to caress my tits rubbing his thumbs over them making my panties even more soaked

“That feels so good, doesn’t feel like this *fuck* when I try” I whimper my body feeling like it’s on fire

“No one ever make you feel good darling?” He says as he leaves kitten licks against my nipples feeling like lighting shooting from them to my clit, trying to grind against his thigh between my legs

“No, no one’s ever…..”

“No ones ever touched you, you’re a virgin?” He continues to suck hickeys down my stomach stopping at the hem of my panties

“Only you” I moan needing more

“Don’t worry I’ll make you feel good baby” he removed everything he’d wearing going to throw his hat in the pile of clothes but is top him

“Stop!……keep it on”

“You like cowboys? Wanna take a ride?” He smirks as he pulls down my panties leaving us both naked

“I mean I did save your horse, it’s only right to ride the cowboy” I say as I flip him over to straddle his hips, his dick standing big thick and prominent, he’s really gonna stretch me out good

“Oh ya it’s only right” he laughs squeezing my hips hard as he helps me move them back and forth grinding on his dick getting it wet

“I need it please”

“Take your time darling” he says as he lifts me up so I’m hovering right above him feeling his tip gently pushing against me

I slowly push down feeling the pressure and stretch, it hurt god it was way bigger than my two fingers

“Fuck baby you’re so tight” he grunts

“Is it…….is it all in, you’re so big I don’t know if I can take much more” I moan uncontrollably, all this sexual frustration finally breaking free

“Just a little more, come on be a good girl and take it” he helps push me down the rest of the way till I feel his skin flush against my clit

I sigh I relief that I got it all in but the sting isn’t pleasant

“Take your time cowgirl, wanna get you nice and stretched before you try and ride your cowboy” he laughs as he sits up kissing my neck again and rubbing my clit to help distract the pain

“God I can’t wait” I say gripping his shoulders as I start moving up and down, slowly at first feeling him deeper and deeper each time

“Fuck baby this pussy is gonna be the death of me” I take his hat putting it on holding it with one hand just like I would when riding a mechanical bull, bouncing and gyrating fast and harder and deeper feeling him hit that spot where it makes me see stars and screaming his name over and over as I feel that tension build up in my lower stomach

“Come on cowgirl, cum on my dick, make yourself cum, let it out” he says meeting my thrusts over and over driving even deeper

My hearing goes fuzzy feeling like my whole body is lit up with pleasure, it’s never felt this good before doing it by myself, soon feeling a warm liquid shoot up inside me, dripping down in between us making a sticky hot mess

Coming back down to earth from that mind blowing orgasm I feel his hands roaming up and down my back, his chest pressed against mine

“Did I do it right” I moan biting my lip slowly grinding on him

“Damn darling, that was the best fuck of my life, yeah you did it right, look great doing it to, could get us to this” he says laying back in the hay hands behind his head

I sat up feeling him slide out whining when he popped out his cum dripping onto the hay as I lean down against his chest

“I want more”

“Damn baby girl, they were right good girls really are the most frustrated”

We spent the rest of the day in the barn, him taking me in every position imaginable, everyone better than the last until we were exhausted and my pussy ached so good

“Glad you found my horse that day”

“Me too Negan”

I want this man desperately damn, I’m newish to writing this kind of story so if you got any tips lmk

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hotpinkstars · 4 months

Text

BORDER COLLIE - boothill x reader

- you, boothill, and your daughter spend a nice morning together, allthewhile you and your husband converse about a dog.

- i don't know why i made this i just thought it would be a fun little thing idk lol. i just had to add that little bit of jazz to the end bc like yk... idk anyways i'm trynna set myself on a better posting schedule and i think im starting off strong mmm enjoy

- all fluff, tiny mention of pregnancy at the very end, pre-cyborg boothill, his daughter is still alive here and everything is normal, wc 714

You were looking out the window, out at the vast amount of farmland you and your husband, Boothill, had decided to buy when he brought home the little girl you’re now able to call your daughter.

It was a nice, big place, suitable for animals of all kinds, and very family-friendly. You were currently watching your daughter play around with a baby goat that her father decided to bring out, a smile on all three of your faces.

She seemed so happy, waddling around the goat, clapping her chubby little hands when the goat gave a soft little lick to her cheek. She had just learned how to walk, and had been able to say a few words for the past few months now.

You walked out the back door, waving at Boothill before he waved his hand as a gesture to have you over by them. While you were walking over, you could hear your daughter shout “Goat! Goat! Cute goat!” While bobbing up and down with her legs and clapping her hands. It made you laugh a little bit before leaning into your husband's side. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, rubbing your arm up and down while supervising your daughter.

“Dada!” She squealed, giggling. Boothill ruffled her hair before leaning down to give her a kiss on her forehead, making her giggle even more. “Dada and mama!”

You smiled wider than you thought you ever could have. You were so blessed to have Boothill as a husband, and such a special, precious girl as a daughter.

“Well, we can’t really bring a goat in th’ house, n’ she seems to enjoy playin’ around with it a bunch…” Boothill said, standing next to you with his arms crossed. “What if we got a dog?”

“Really? A dog?” You looked up at him, and he nodded. “We have horses, goats, sheep, cows, and probably some reptiles living in the bushes. Do we really need more?”

He hummed. “The thing is, dogs can be domestic, hun. I got lucky this lil’ goat is so docile, good enough for her to be able to hang ‘round it without me having to worry ‘bout it taking her face off.”

“True. But we’d need a dog that can handle farmlife, not just any old dog. A boujee dog would not do very well in this type of setting. Keep that in mind.”

He laughed before shaking his head. “Nah. I was thinkin’ more like a Border Collie or somethin’. I’d rather have one that's gonna make use of all this land.”

Your daughter came up to the both of you, lightly slapping at your legs to get your attention. You picked her up, giving Boothill a signal to go put the goat back in its respective area before meeting the two of you back inside.

A few moments later, when Boothill arrived back inside, you had lunch started, greeting him before he washed his hands and helping your daughter wash hers, too. He explained to her that she’s always to wash her hands before and after touching an ‘outside animal’ (as he calls it, so her itty bitty brain can comprehend it) otherwise she could get sick. He does the same, too.

You set the table for lunch, putting some leftover salad and chicken on you and Boothills plates from last night. You gave your daughter some chicken too, but cut into very small squares, and strawberries instead of salad.

The three of you sat down to eat, occasionally conversing about random things. She was too busy picking at her strawberries to notice your conversation, but you both still kept a close eye on her.

“About the dog idea, are you sure?” You asked, your voice laced with some uncertainty. ‘I feel like we already have so much on our plate. Are you really willing to walk it every morning?”

“Well, o’course I am. I know what havin’ a dog is like, my dads always had one. I grew up around ‘em.” He takes another forkful of salad before going on. “But why’re ya so concerned? What else is stoppin’ ya from sayin’ yes?”

You smiled before laughing to yourself, leaving him temporarily confused.

“Well, I want to hold off on the dog, because…

…I’m pregnant.”

#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #boothill #boothill x reader #fluff #x reader #x reader fluff #boothill fluff #hsr fluff #honkai star rail fluff #boothill hsr #boothill honkai star rail

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chrolloluvr · 7 months

Note

Can you please do Stolas,Alastor,Lucifer,and Adam with a insomniac reader Hcs

Alastor, Stolas, Lucifer, Adam x Insomniac!Reader

note: ty for requesting bookie bear! also i do not have insomnia, so if its a bit inacurate, sorry!! I am going purely based off of the definition! Also this is not proofread.

GenderNeutral!Reader:

warnings: use of pet names, thats all!

Alastor:

A couple months after your relationship started, he would sleep next to you (by sleep, he would lay with his eyes wide open, sprawled across your chest.) And would notice you rarely slept.

He would wake you up with a nice coffee, and say,

"My dear, whats with the long face?"

You would look at him deadpan, your eyes barely opening, and he would keep telling you to just rest your pretty little head, as he ruffled your hair.

When you try to explain to him that you are an insomniac, he wouldn't understand. Why cant you just sleep normally? (this rule does not apply to him)

He would try his best to help you, by giving you warm blankets, or even letting you rub and scratch his ears to help you sleep if you are lucky.

Would stay awake with you and read to you a story ranging from fairytales, to stories about when he was still alive.

Stolas:

Stolas is very attentive because he genuinely loves and cares for you.

He catches on very quickly to this sleepless habit of yours, and becomes very doting. Constantly saying,

"My little owlette, you need your beauty sleep! Do you need a massage?"

When you tell him that you rarely sleep, and that it's hard for you, he understands completely. He is a Goetia, he is going through a divorce, and he has to take care of his daughter. He knows how tired you must be.

He will let you lay on his chest and ruffle his feathers, and will sing you a lullaby (similar to the one he sang Octavia)

Adam:

Oh boy. If he sees sees you having trouble sleeping, he will most likely make fun of you.

"Cmon babe, why cant you just sleep, its really not that hard..."

He earned a slap to the face after he said that...

Once you explain that you have insomnia, he doesn't fully get it, but he loves you, so he tries his best

He ends up not understand shit, so he grabs Lute to come and help you.

The most he can do to help you is let you play with his hair with his mask off, or will try and get you to laugh.

Will stay awake with you most likely, and you guys will probably watch a movie and cozy up on his couch.

Lucifer

Also another one that understands. This man has gone through ALOT.

"Sweetie, why don't you come to bed, yeah?"

When you explain to him your issues, he feels bad for you, and offers to give you a back massage, or to play with his rubber ducks a bit.

Will try his best to at-least ease your mind

He will let you play with his wings and run your fingers through them, or even let you brush his platinum blonde hair.

He likes to remind you that he is always there, and that he will stay awake with you if you need it.

Will ask Charlie for help, and maybe get some advice from her

Will bring KeKe to play with you and keep you company.

#lucifer x reader #adam x reader #alastor x reader #Stolas x reader #stolas helluva #alastor hazbin hotel #adam hazbin hotel #Lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader

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tohakumaru · 5 months

Text

[project page]

>walk away, go with the nomad. i love you.

since you cannot cry, you make an effort to push the stale air out of your lungs, a poor imitation of a sigh - i guess bad habits really die hard. if the nomad has noticed, then it pays you no mind and simply carries on. casting one last lingering glance at the water and the sky above, you dutifully follow. after a short while, it becomes clear that something has changed. the nomad has picked up its pace, moving in erratic strides. here and there, you find it dashing across the sand, beak and head angled upwards, as though searching, or following an invisible thread in the air, one that you can feel, but cannot quite grasp, like a long forgotten name - always on the tip of your tongue, yet never to be spoken aloud. at times, you struggle to keep up. it's so hard, you're so tired, it's too much. your eyes burn with fatigue. you want to scream, to beg the bird-thing to slow down, but the words evade you everytime you open your mouth, and the nomad does not so much as look at you. a hot and bitter pressure builds behind your nose and muffles your ears. once again you feel yourself falling apart - but the blanket wrapped around your frame and the water sloshing in your hollow stomach seem to work against your body's trajectory to disintegrate, two forces swirling inside and all around you, like a wicked pendulum that propels you forward despite, despite.

i won't let you go, should have known that from the start.

---

tenderly her eyes made their pilgrimage across the mounds of glass and steel, mourning perhaps hunger is a cure for insanity, shut-you-up-real-nice knowing full well being alive is a horrendously beautiful thing while the dogs, blood stained snouts dig out the madness, turn it into a five course meal heaving, a still-beating heart melts like butter on their lips as poorly clipped nails fumbled and fussed,

just enough to make a day-ride.

---

in this fashion, you and the nomad dance across the white sand for some time, until a hillside comes into view. upon closer inspection, you are awed to realise it is made entirely of roots. at the foot of this strange hill, a grove - an incredible indent in that tangled mass that is the tree-hill - opens up and presents an even more curious sight: 12 creatures, each bearing the likeness of a bird, but is clearly not one. they stand stock-still and solemn, with multitudes of dried flowers and glittering gemstones at their feet. their faces, elongated and coming to pointy, beak-like ends, are not dissimilar to the nomad, but much more haggard; and so immobile, it is easy to mistake them for statues, has there not been the occassional puffs of dusty smoke and shrill noises, like a kettle boiling over, coming from their beaks and throats that betray any hints of liveliness about them.

the nomad slows its steps, and looks down. it keeps its eyes to the ground as you get nearer to the grove. it occurs to you that it is avoiding the living-statues' gaze. surprisingly, they reciprocrate the gesture. Ever so slightly each of them turn their head, so their eyes fall off the nomad, and onto … you. you, who does not belong you, who comes on a leash, believing it to be choice you, who dies, and nothing changes

to your bewilderment, the statues came to life, all at once. they grovel at the flowers and gems, and toss them in handfuls at you as the nomad leads you through the grove, leaving a trail of petals and stones. when you pass the 12th statue and come to the end of the opening, everything suddenly shifts: slowly, mechanically, the roots shape themselves into a winding stairway, leading you up the hill.

calmly, the nomad signals you to go up.

what do you do?

[previous chapter]

#illustration #fiction #drawing #impossible nomad #writing #storytelling #prose #poetry #poll #stories #ocs #creatures #monster #art #artists on tumblr

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heli-writes · 7 months

Text

A dragon's heart

Pairing: Barbarian!Bakugou Katsuki x female!reader

Summary: The dragonblood tribe is known for being cruel, barbarian warriors that slaughter, loot and rape all places they pass through. They are feared among the villagers and even bigger cities. Having lost most of their women to a plague, they're trying to ensure their tribe's survival by kidnapping women from other places. However, they're not the only monsters in human form out there. When y/n experiences this first hand, she has no choice but to ask for help from no other but the barbarian leader Katsuki Bakugou himself.

Disclaimer: Heavy violence in the last part, throat cutting and gutting of human people, mentions of rape (no visual description!), swearing

[Please don't read if you are sensible to or triggered by the topics mentioned above.]

Part 1, Part 2

Series Masterlist

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

People don't dare to speak about them out loud. Afraid that it would manifest them. They would only speak about them only in whispers behind closed doors. Fathers would tell their sons that it's better to flee than to fight. Don't play the hero. You can't win a fight against them, no one can. Mothers tell their daughters about the horrors they commit. You'd rather be dead than be captured by them. The women they don't kill after they're done, don't last more than a week. Y/n heard all the stories growing up. Some are more horrifying than others. Y/n has never lived in one place for too long. Her people have always been wanderers, offering their services and wares to the villages they pass through. So, she's come to hear a great deal of stories in her lifetime.

In the past two years, life has been unfortunate for y/n. The wandering folk have always been victims of bandits waiting on the side of the road. They've found ways to defend themselves but bandit activity has risen in the past years due to the barbarians attacking and raiding places all over the kingdom. Like sharks smelling blood, other low-life criminals start to crawl out of their holes, sensing an opportunity to gain some coin and women for themselves. Y/n's group has been attacked quite a few times over the last two years, decimating their numbers bit by bit. Having lost people, coins and wares, the last winter was harsh. Those, who didn't starve to death, died due to the harsh cold or infection that followed soon after. After that winter, there weren't many left of them and the survivors started to question if their way of life was still liveable in the current condition. Eventually, the group dismembered. Not all at once, but one by one. People found other work or opportunities in the villages they passed through. A better prospect of life. Even y/n's elder brother, her only surviving family member, left this spring and enrolled in the military service of the king. He tried to convince her to come with her and settle down in the capital. But y/n can't imagine such a life. Being used to living in the open, in tents and wagons, she developed a distaste for sleeping in houses made of stone. It gives her nightmares. The thought that the house might crumble and its stones burying her alive, scares her to death.

Eventually, y/n ends up alone. Only her, her tent, and a wagon her parents left behind. She tried keeping up the life of a wanderer until her donkey died of old age and she had no coin to buy a new one. Having no opportunity to continue to pull her wagon, she was forced to settle closeby to a small settlement. Here's the thing. Villagers are usually nice to the wandering folk. They're happy to trade with them and the change of pace and stories they bring with them. However, they are not keen on having them in their life permanently. It's nice to have them around for a couple of days, but it's also good when they move on. Then there are the prejudices. Often people put y/n's kind into the same box as other people without a permanent residence like bandits, homeless people, or moving brothels. So, people weren't too happy when y/n put up her tent close to the village entrance.

You see, most people don't treat y/n unkindly as long as she keeps her distance and has the proper coin when she needs to buy something. They even trust her enough to buy her wares but they're not very inclusive. So y/n does not really find any friends or social connections and she is aware of the demeaning glances and sneers people give her when they think she's not looking. She's trying to save up coins for a new donkey and hopes to find her brother. Maybe convincing him to leave the military. Or at least to find a more inviting place than where she is now.

Today's the celebration of the long day. It's the longest day of the year and the people celebrate the daylight for blessing their fields and fruits. There's a festival in the village with dances, beverages and lots of music. It gives y/n some consolation that the village people are celebrating this day. It's a big festival for her people with different traditions and rituals that are held all day and night. This year y/n tried to do as many of them on her own, but it's just not the same without your family around. So, she's glad she can go into the village and take part in the buzzing celebration. Though 'take part' is probably a bit too much. She probably will buy a cup of fruit wine and watch the hustle and bustle of the villagers. It's not like anybody would want to dance with her. After all, she has no real prospect of marriage around here. Nobody would let their son court and marry a woman like her. Not that y/n is interested in any of the young men she's seen in the village. She finds most of them quite close-minded and not very driven.

Y/n wears a flower crown she's woven today and one of her mother's dresses. It actually might be the one she got married in. She wanders the town square and watches old men toast with full jugs of beer and young couples sneaking around, waiting for the music to start. She gets herself a cup of wine and a sugary piece of cake and settles on the ground next to the bakery stand. Cross-legged, she bites into her cake and takes notice of some middle-aged women looking in her direction and whispering behind raised hands. Y/n shrugs it off as the music starts to play and people start to dance. She watches the commotion and whips her feet to the music. She really would love to dance. At midnight, the villagers dim the lanterns and lit a fire in the middle of the square. Curiously, y/n blends into the mass that gathers around the fire. She bumps into a man her age. She apologizes and gives the man a small smile. The man looks at her in bewilderment and his friend gives her a mean look, pulling the man away from her. Slowly, silence befalls the square and the old storyteller of the village makes his way to the middle of the square, next to the fire. Y/n buzzes with excitement. She loves stories. Before starting his story, the man lets his gaze wander through the people and takes a deep breath.

Far away from here, behind the mountain range we call bear fangs, lays the territory of the dragonblood tribe. These beasts of men managed to tame the greatest monsters known to mankind: the dragons. Over 12 feet high, spewing raging fire, these creatures are nothing more than steel-hard scales and razor-sharp teeth. While normal people, like us, would fear for their lives encountering these monsters, the dragonblood tribe has lived together with them for centuries in what they call harmony. There's no doubt you have to be a special kind of person to survive an encounter with such a monster, let alone live with them. Tall, strong, cunning and unafraid of death. All characteristics the men of the tribe possess. Some say they even mixed their blood with their dragons and gained impenetrable skin and superhuman strength.

A strength that they still use today to bring terror and fear into our lands. However, a few winters ago, a horrible sickness befell the women of the dragonblood tribe. Most of them didn't survive the season. Having lost their women, the dragonblood men lust for female flesh. Flesh that they seek nowadays in our lands.

We've all heard stories. From an aunt or uncle living in other parts of the kingdom, from passing merchants or the wandering folk about them. They do not care for day or night, they attack whenever they feel like it. There's no plan or logic to their attack, just chaos and violence. They burn houses, skin men alive, put children on spikes and do unspeakable, terrible things to our women. We should fear every single one of them but... there's one we should fear the most. Their leader: Bakugou Katsuki. He's the cruelest, strongest, and meanest of them all. He managed to tame the biggest and most dangerous dragon of all kinds: A hellfire dragon. With scales red as blood and fire as hot as a hundred forges, no one can escape this beast. And no one can escape its master either. With an insatiable hunger for coin, gold and women, their leader and his men continue to invade this country and raid its villages and towns. Greedily acquiring riches and kidnapping and taking our women whenever they please. You never know when they strike, but when you see a sliver of burning red in the sky... Take your little siblings, put your old mother on your back and leave farm and home behind, and run as fast as you can. If you're lucky, and cunning yourself, you might just be able to escape the terror of the dragonblood tribe and live another day to tell the story.

As the storyteller finishes his story, the market square lies in eery silence. Nobody dares to even move. Only when the musicians start playing again and the lanterns are lit again, the tension eases and the gathering around the fire dissolves. Y/n gets up from the place she was seated in and rubs her arms. There are goosebumps all over her body. What a creepy story to tell during such delightful festivities, she thinks. She grabs her cup to return it to the vendor. In passing, she hears someone say: "Why on earth would he speak of this? Doesn't he know it's a bad omen to speak it out loud?". She returns her cup and lets her gaze wander over the square once more. Some couples picked up dancing again but it's obvious that the atmosphere has shifted. Y/n notices the man she bumped into earlier watching her from across the square. She gives him a nod and then turns around to leave.

Y/n set up camp not too far away from the village, but far away enough to have some peace and quiet. The wandering folk often set up camp in a forest or closeby a river, living off the land around them. So, y/n has a short walk by foot back to her tent. The moon stays high in the sky, illuminating her surroundings enough for her to comfortably find her way home. Deep in her own thoughts, y/n doesn't notice the dark shadows following her. She's been walking for a while when she finally hears the snickering of male voices behind her. She looks over her shoulder and sees three male silhouettes following her. "Hey, y/n, wait a second!", she hears one of them yell. The voice is familiar. One of the villagers. She stops for a second, a stupid mistake on her part. One of the men jog up to her, the others following closely. "I'm sorry, can I help you with anything?", y/n says calmly. "Actually, there's something huge you could help me with.", the man she bumped into earlier grins. Y/n pretends not to catch on the allusion. "If you need help with something, it's best to work on it tomorrow. Also, we probably should talk to your father first since he handles business in your family.", she states. She hopes the mention of his father will intimidate the guy. "Oh, I think it's best to work on it tonight.", the man answers and his friends snicker behind him. "Sorry, I'm tired. Let's talk about it tomorrow.", y/n tries to advert him once again. "It won't be any work for you at all. You'd just have to lay down. Or stand up, depending on how you like it.", the man says and leans close. "I'd like to go home. Alone.", she tells him and turns to leave. "C'mon don't be like that!", one of his friends grins behind him, as the other one grabs her arm. "You're drunk. You should all go home, too. It's best to sleep it off.", she tells them and pulls on her arm. "Why are you like that? You don't think we're worth your time?", the third one coos. Y/n pulls on her arm again. "I'm sure you're all great and we can talk about everything tomorrow. Right now, however, I'd prefer to go home alone.", she tries again. "Not even for some coin? I heard your kind does everything for a little bit of gold.", the man holding her arms sneers. Not for any gold in the world, y/n would like to say. She knows better than to offend them. It's already a dangerous situation she's in. No need to escalate it further. "C'mon, babe. At least let me feel you up a bit.", the guy says and tries to pull her closer. Y/n decides that she has had enough of this. She balls her fist and swings it right into the man's face. Not expecting the blow, he lets go of her arm and stumbles back. Y/n doesn't waste a second and makes a run for it. Immediately, she leaves the well-known path and darts into the woods. She hopes that the trees give her enough cover to keep out of their sight. She runs in a zigzag, changing her direction multiple times. She hears the man behind her, trying to keep up with her. Unfortunately for her, they are bigger and faster than her and it's hard to shake them off. Eventually, y/n loses them. She climbs up a tree and stays unmoving for a long time. She doesn't hear them anywhere close by and her heart slows down a bit. It's not the first time she had to run away from men with bad intentions. She knows it's not a smart idea to return to her tent immediately. So, she stays up on the tree for most of the night. Her eyes fall close a couple of times but after she almost loses balance one time, she stays awake for the remaining night listening closely into the woods.

Only when the sun starts to rise again and wafts of mist waver over the cold forest ground, y/n climbs down from her spot. Her joints are stiff and she's chilled to the bone. Cautiously, she starts her way back to her tent. Of course, she did not watch where she was going last night and it takes her multiple hours to find her way back. When she arrives at her campsite, chills run down her back. Apparently, these men were not only relentless but also petty. Her entire campsite is destroyed. They absolutely trashed the place and set fire to her tent and wagon. Y/n takes in the sight. She tries to stay calm but her blood is boiling. It's not like she cared much about the possessions. The wandering folk always packed lightly and only what they could carry. It's the disrespect for her. Also, the little things that she did own were necessities. It's still early in the morning, so y/n decides to salvage what she can and take her leave. She knows men like this. When they don't get what they want, they don't rest until they absolutely destroy everything.

Unfortunately for y/n, the devil works fast and these men work faster. She just started piling up things that were still usable when she hears clamoring just a mile away. "Let's go! She must be back by now! No way she leaves her witchcraft stuff behind!", she hears a man yell. Y/n debates for a few seconds whether or not to stand her ground but decides it's better to avoid confrontation. She quickly grabs a small bag and retreats to the forest. However, she doesn't make it far. Only a few meters into the woods, an arrow flies by her head. "There she is! I saw her just beyond the tree line!", she hears a yell behind her. Immediately, y/n breaks into a sprint. She tries to lose them by zigzagging again but the broad daylight makes it easier for them to spot her. Being used to walking all day, y/n has quite the stamina and hopes to tire them out. However, she didn't sleep all night and the men seemed to have prepared for a longer hunt. 'Hunt' is the appropriate term here. They keep shooting arrows at her and seem to track her trails.

The forest no longer looks familiar to y/n as she keeps pushing on. Her heart feels as if it's about to explode. In a bad way. She's sure the men on her tail can hear her heavy breathing from a mile away. She's also sure that they start to catch up to her. She can hear them closer and closer behind her. They are whooping and whistling as if they are making fun of her. So sure that they can catch up to her. Suddenly, an arrow flies close to her face again, cutting her ear. She can feel blood dripping down the side of her face. "Come out, come out, wherever you are! You can't hide forever, you little bitch!", she hears one of them call out behind her. She gathers all her strength and pushes her legs to run even faster than before. Panic sets in and she hears an arrow hit the ground behind her. Trying to look back in order to estimate how far they are behind her, she stumbles over the roots of a tree and falls to the ground. "Over there!", a voice yells closely behind her. She gets up as quickly as she can and a piercing pain jolts through her. She must've torn or broken something in her joint as she fell. She limbs on trying to use the trees for cover. Another arrow hits the bark of the tree right next to her. She pushes herself off the tree, trying to bring more distance between herself and the men hunting her. Suddenly she loses her footing and finds herself sliding down a slope. Thorny bushes cut her legs, arms and face. The impact leaves a ringing tone in her ears. Her entire body hurts now. For a moment, she's tempted to just lay there and accept her fate. But when she hears the howling men above her, she fights to get back onto her feet again. Her bones feel heavy as she staggers on. She can hear some of the men sliding down the slope as well. Suddenly, she smells smoke in the air. Somebody must be close by!, she thinks. This thought cost her a valuable second and suddenly a pointed force to her right shoulder knocks her down again. Next, she feels a soaring pain from the very same place. When she turns her head to her side, in terror she realizes that an arrow is stuck in her shoulder. She can barely lift her arm now. On her hands and knees, she frantically looks for smoke in the air. Y/n fixes her eyes on the dark clouds of smoke rising into the air just a yard or so from her. It's my only chance, y/n decides. These people might be able to help. They can't be worse than the men that are hunting her. Little did she know, it was quite the opposite. Having found new hope, y/n gets back onto her feet. She starts sprinting again. Ignoring the pain in her foot joint, she pushes her body to the limit. Avoiding arrows out of sheer luck, she manages to avoid getting killed. Finally, she stumbles onto the clearing where the smoke was coming from.

Her eyes fall onto the fireplace first, then at the man sitting next to it. The man only wears dark pants and a pair of boots. He's got blonde spiky hair that stands up in different directions. Necklaces of teeth hand from his neck. All things y/n doesn't register in her panic. That and the giant, red dragon sleeping at the other side of the clearing. The man gets up immediately and grabs a sword that laid across his lap just seconds ago. He looks at y/n angrily, ready to yell or behead her or both. However, he does not get a chance to speak. Y/n's body gives out and she falls onto her knees. "I'm begging you!", she yells out, tears streaming down her face. "Please help me! If you have just an inch of good in you, please find the mercy to help me! They are going to kill me!", she continues to yell. The man looks at her in bewilderment. Nearby, the village men yell in her direction. In horror, she pushes herself up once more and stumbles in the direction of the strange man in front of her. She falls straight into his chest, clinging onto his arm. For a moment, the man looks as if he wants to push her back to the ground again but he doesn't get a chance to do so. One of the men hunting y/n stumbles onto the clearing with a knife in his hand. "There you are, you little slut!", he yells. In fear, y/n clings to the man in front of her. Suddenly, the stranger grabs her right arm. Pain shots from the arrow wound into her fingertips. She looks up and sees the stranger look at the wound with narrowed eyes. Another villager reaches the clearing. This one carries a bow and arrow. The stranger quickly makes the connection between the arrow stuck in y/n's shoulder and the arrow in the man's hand.

The stranger yells something non-understandable and pushes y/n to the side who falls to the ground like a sack of potatoes. The impact sends more pain through y/n body. "Who the fuck are you? That one belongs to us, find your own toy to play with!" the knife man says and raises his weapon. The stranger exclaims something loud and angry. Again y/n can't understand him. He must speak a different language than her. Suddenly a rumble pierces the air. Y/n's head whips around and the dragon rises to his feet. Y/n's mouth hangs open in disbelief. The man with the arrow yelps in surprise and lets go of his arrow sending it flying in an arbitrary direction. The stranger in front of her doesn't waste a second and uses the distraction to cut the knife guy's throat in a swift movement. In horror, y/n watches as blood gushes out of the horizontal wound and the man chokes on his own body fluids. The man with the bow stumbles backward onto his butt. His eyes are still fixated on the dragon to his right. The stranger harshly steps onto the man's foot. The disgusting sound of breaking bones rings through the air. The man yells in pain and throws his head back. The stranger grabs a fistful of his hair and yanks his head forward. Angrily, he yells at the villager and when the man only groans in pain, the stranger sticks his sword into his side. The villager lets out a bone-chilling scream. When the villager continues to not answer him, the stranger starts twisting his sword in the wound. The villager throws up on himself and his eyes roll into the back of his head. Y/n can't advert her eyes. She doesn't really comprehend what's happening in front of her. When more yelling is heard at the edge of the clearing, the stranger pulls his sword diagonally through the man's abdomen, creating a wound that makes squishy red things fall out of the man's body. Y/n feels like throwing up. The stranger drops the twitching man and makes its way to the edge of the clearing. What happens next is not registered by y/n who can't help but stare at the gutted man in front of her who keeps twitching until the light has left his eyes. She doesn't hear the screams of terror and death from the other side of the clearing. She doesn't even see the giant beast watching her every move.

Only when the stranger returns with blood dripping down his sword and chest, y/n's consciousness finds its way back into her body. The stranger looks as angry as he has since she entered his clearing. He sounds angry too. He's saying something to her. Looking at it backward, y/n is sure that she wouldn't have been able to understand him even if he spoke her language at this very moment. Only when he stomps closer to her with a raised sword, y/n springs to action and pushes herself backward with one leg, still sitting on the ground. This is it, she thinks, I'm going to die. The man grabs her uninjured shoulder and shakes her. She stares up at him with wide eyes. Suddenly, her vision starts spinning and her hearing starts to fade. Before she understands what is happening, her world fades to black.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

[Please comment if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters]

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alientee · 7 months

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Alastor x Jessica Rabbit Reader Part 2

You and Alastor are walking down the street and you couldn't help but hold him even closer if possible. Everyone was staring at you, some even stopping in the middle of the street to gawk at you both. You look at Alastor to see if he's noticing the same thing but he couldn't be bothered. "Honey where are we going" Alastor smiles down at you "A lovely little place called Cannibal town. Is similar to our time line."

You look up at him nervously. "Are you sure its alright for me to be there darling... will someone try to..eat me" Alastor stops walking lifting your chin up. "Well darling you are delectable enough to eat, but rest assured anyone who comes near you with that motive will be slaughtered where they stand. Besides there's someone I would like you too meet"

You sigh placing a hand on his chest "I trust you honey" He pats your head "Good now look alive we are almost there." You walk into a nice clean town that looks true to his word somewhat similar to when you and Alastor were alive. You see many of the people working and keeping the town clean, it didn't seem like hell at all. Alastor brings you both into a nice looking shop and opens the door for you. You walk in the store and it seems so nice and cozy on the inside.

"Alastor?! oh alastor what a surprise!" A grey woman with black eyes and sharp teeth comes up towards alastor hugging him tightly "And who is this you brought with you, your such a charmer Alastor this is the second time you've come to my store with a woman in tow. And a angel no less what a surprise this is. " Alastor brings you closer to him "This treasure is my lovely wife, y/n this is Rosie one of my good friends and one hell of a overlord." Rosie looked at you with shock on her face "Your wife?! And here I thought you were an ace in the hole." Rosie laughs while Alastor just looks confused. "I still don't know what that means" You snicker. “Hate to break it to you but he still is.” Rosie grabs you both. "Come in come in we have MUCH to discuss."

Rosie takes you two to a back room with more privacy. She pulls out a small box offering it to you. "Would you like some pinky fingers hun, not that you need them your figure is to die for." You quickly but kindly refuse. "Ohhh no thank you I don't have my husbands taste for flesh hehe." Rosie put them away looking at Alastor smugly. "Oh Alastor don't tell me you thought she looked pretty enough to eat but you just couldn't do it could you? You fell too hard to soon haha"

Alastor looks at Rosie smile still on with his eyes closed. "I can assure you I never thought of such a thing" Rosie scoffs a little "You can't fool me Alastor a doll like her, you must've fantasized about a taste once an a while." You can hear the static in Alastors voice rise. "Rosie, do believe me when I say I have not, please." Rosie seems to pick up on the change of mood. "I see well tell me how you to met, I can't imagine old alastor here pulling a gal like you he's so reserved when he wants to be, no offense hon"

"Oh well we met in a jazz club and he was just dancing his heart out. I guess he had had to much whiskey because he asked me to dance and I said yes. He pulled me all over the dance floor. I was surprised I could keep up with him, next thing you know he's coming to my shows given me flowers with full blushed face and a nervous wide smile. He had me charmed being such a gentleman especially with that accent." Rosie looks even more intrigued "Alastor has an accent? Now this is news to me, where is it." You gave Alastor a look."That's what id like to know, honey?"

Alastor's smile drops a little but not by much "Well in radio you have to talk proper and clearly to give your audience a good show" You roll your eyes but let it go and keep talking to Rosie. You like her she's very kind and inviting you can see why Alastor is fond of her. Rosie gives you a hug saying if you ever saw each other again she had to get all the gossip on Alastor. As you and him are leaving he stops for a moment lifting up your chin with his finger. "So ya missed this cher?"

You blushed moving your head away. "Alastor don't you start" All he did was chuckle at you. "Why not? ya missed my accent so much. I remember how I made you shiver when I talked to ya nice." You looked at alastor a playful glare in your eyes. "Its been to long since we've been apart but I think we both know your not…. How the kids say, about that life." He looks at you funny before linking your arms. “I’ll never understand all the phrases that come up today always a diffrent one each time.”

When you roll your eyes at him his smile gets wider kissing your forehead. "Lets go to our next destination" You feel him put his arm over your shoulder leading you forward. "Which is?" "A theme Park named LuLu World, we didn't have one of those when we were alive." you nodded "Oh yes the first one came out when I was in my 80's. I could never go see it for myself." Alastor pulled you along faster "Well wait no longer here we are!" You look around and its nothing but bright colorful lights, contraptions you'd never seen and loads of food everywhere with people in costumes.

"Oh wow this is a lot to take in" Alastor grabs your hand holding it tighter than you would've wanted. " Stay very close to me who knows who's watching. Wouldn't want my mon amour to get lost or hurt." You smiled slightly a little worried but ready to have fun.

"I don't know Vox I don't think Tv's should be on rides, you could shatter If your not careful haha" Vox rolled his eyes eating his cotton candy. "Oh fuck you Val, maybe you shouldn't get on a roller coaster, might fly away with those fat ass wings." Valentino flinched " Oh you take that back you wide faced B-!" Velvette pushes herself between both of them. "Hey you lot, while you two are ova here bitchin, that radio demons got a bad bitch on his arm, looks like a angel literally."

Both of them look over to where she was talking about and she was right. There was Alastor walking hand and hand with an angel. Vox pushes forward he couldn't believe this shit. "What the fuck is someone like that doing with Alastor! I'm following him, that old timey prick is up to something. I refuse for him to get ahead of me in what ever the fuck he's doing." The other V's roll their eyes following his league. They ended up following behind the two for a few minutes not realizing that Alastor's shadow had noticed them.When the shadow warned Alastor he clenched his smile, he refused for these idiots to ruin what was a lovely date to his wife.

Alastor uses his shadows to stop them in there place making them all fall on there face. Alastor pushes you on your lower back, speeding up your movement. "Come dear there is so much more to see, look over there a clown show." You turn your head intrigued at the many tricks the clowns showed even if they looked deadly.

Vox gets up angry , his screen slightly buffering. "That fucking coward, I'll give that piece of shit something to smile about." Vox starts looking around trying to find anything heavy but only seeing stuffed animals. Growing frustrated he grabs the first thing that looks heavy and throws it at Alastor. Alastor feels a heavy object smack him right in the back of the head making him fall forward, he catches himself picking up whatever Vox threw ready to smack him in the face with it. He turned around to see Vox flipping him off. "Thats what you get bitch"

His antlers grew with his eyes turning into dials, voodoo symbols surrounding him. " Oh Alastor is that for me!" Alastor turns back to normal, he finally looks at what's in his hand. It's a multicolored glass sculpture of flowers. He took the opportunity to shove them into you with a smile larger than usually. "Of course sweetie, anything for my baby" He pulls you closer flipping Vox and the other two off while walking away.

Both Velvette and Valentino look at Vox while he's fuming. Velvette speaks up first "You know you helped him rizz right?" Vox turns around making a scene "I CAN FUCKING SEE THAT. How in the fuck did he land someone so out of his league, that prudish jackass! It's not fair!" Valentino just looks at them walking away raising an eyebrow. "That virgin is so not hitting that right"

As you and Alastor walk through the theme park you couldn't help but feel a little clingy. Spending this much time together is making you nostalgic. It made you feel like you and Alastor where as happy as you used to be. "Come on Alastor, let's go home, I'll make you some jambalaya." He looks at you with a smile as wide as his eyes right now. He lowers his face to your's his radio static making his voice deeper. "That sounds lovely."

@fairyv-ice @sirens-and-moonflowers @cannibalcoyote @jyoongim

#hazbin hotel #alastor x y/n #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor #alastor the radio demon #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin x reader

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fuctacles · 21 days

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<<😺😺😺😺

if i didn't respond to your comment it's bc desktop tumblr didn't let me, I still love and appreciate y'all

Maybe tomorrow he'd bring his book here, and keep the cats company while he reads. Would they like it if he read it out loud?

Oh lord, the crazy cat lady energy must be rubbing off on him already.

The cats certainly are. He looks down at his black attire now speckled with cat hair, and sighs. He should have asked Steph where the lint roller was before she left. With great effort, he stands up from the comfy couch, vowing to himself to only do a cursory search with no unnecessary peeking.

The entrance seems like an obvious start since people like to de-hair themselves before leaving the house. The dresser next to the door is cluttered with typical things - sunglasses, hand lotion, chapstick, some loose change, and jewelry. No roller in sight. So he goes to the kitchen instead, because kitchen is where everything goes. The cats are watching him curiously from their chosen perches around the house.

"Stop it. This is all your fault."

He finally finds what he's looking for on a windowsill next to a dead fly. He starts cleaning his clothes there, next to the fridge, and its colorful display catches his attention.

There's an Ewok magnet that looks handmade, holding up a birthday card, and a few holiday photos, capturing smiling people in swimming costumes. Some of them look older, like the photo of a kid in a wizard robe, or a pair of bloodied-up teenagers in sailor costumes, which must be a very obscure reference because Eddie hasn't seen it at any costume party before.

The caption under the photo reads BFF but someone added a circle of smaller F's all around the photo, turning them into a frame. Which, if Eddie's connecting the dots correctly, would imply that it's Robin and Steph. The quality isn't the best, but at first glance, he's assumed it must be a family member, maybe a brother, but he remembers her saying she's an only child.

He tracks the other photos, but most of them are new, of the Steph he already knows. There might be more around the apartment, though.

But he's already rolled his shirt and he'll be back tomorrow morning anyway, so he quickly works on his pants' legs, gives the cats a wave, and leaves.

While walking back, he's apparently so lost in his thoughts, he gets startled by his own uncle.

"The cats still alive?"

"Do you want?! Me?! To die?!" Eddie screeches, eyes wide and a hand on his heart, the other holding him upright against the wall. "Why the fuck are you sitting there in the dark?!"

Wayne looks pointedly at the lamp next to him, then to his nephew. Aside from his reading nook in the corner though, the living room has no other light sources right now, but Eddie just throws his hands in defeat, deciding not to argue. Especially not when his uncle finally folded and was reading Blade Runner.

"Must have been thinking some guilty thoughts, huh?"

"Excuse me?" Eddie takes a step back from his course towards the kitchen. His uncle was flipping a page in his book, clearly not reading but not looking up from it either.

"To get scared like that. Did you do something bad, son?" He finally looks up, and Eddie doesn't like it. He looks exactly like his friends just before teasing him about something. "Saw something you shouldn't have?"

Eddie folds his arms and sticks his nose up, hoping the evening darkness hides his warming cheeks.

"I don't know what kind of panty raiding you do up there, but I'm not a pervert."

"Panty riding, huh?" Wayne raises his eyebrows in interest. "That what you boys do in college these days?"

"Do you want a sandwich? Some tea maybe?" Eddie has already turned his back to him and is switching the light on in the kitchen. "And the cats are fine, thanks for asking!"

"Yes and yes. Thank you!"

Eddie prepares them sandwiches and teas and grabs his own book so they can read in silence waiting for the evening news. It's nice to have this, a break from busy and loud college life, just sharing silence and love for books with his uncle.

That is, of course, until Wayne looks at his watch and puts the book down to exchange it for a remote. Eddie likes to keep his nose in the book until the news become too distracting or he catches something interesting being reported on. His uncle has other plans for him this time.

"You know it's alright to like her, right?"

Eddie lowers his book, slightly incredulous that Wayne is still talking about it. He looks at him with wide eyes.

"You really want me to fuck your neighbor, huh?"

Finally, his uncle gets a taste of his own medicine, almost choking on the tea that he unfortunately decided to sip on at that moment. Eddie: one, Wayne: zero.

But later, the score evened out again, as all Eddie could think of while trying to sleep were the pictures on the fridge, and plowing his uncle's neighbor into her mattress until she screamed.

The next morning, with not enough sleep under his belt, Eddie skips two sets at a time, because he totally absolutely royally forgot about the fucking plant.

He fumbles with the keys, can hear the inquisitive meows on the other side of the door, and once he's in he takes a beeline to the kitchen, ignoring the little creatures following him like they have been starving on the streets and he was a fresh batch of tuna factory waste.

The plant looks normal, the same as it did 24 hours ago, and he waters it as per instructions while trying not to even brush its leaves because he truly believes his touch might kill it. His track record with plants indicates so. Only then does he turn to the meowing bunch at his feet.

"Hello, little demons. Time to feast."

The cats are fed, their mouths making unpleasant wet noises against the equally wet food, and Eddie has a moment to take a curious walk around the place, in search of more photos.

He finds a wedding photo, with Steph in a pink dress and stunning make up dancing with a man with curly hair. There's one from a barbecue, where Steph is being hugged by a tall man with a mustache. She's wearing jean shorts and a sweater in this one, and somehow, looks a bit off. It looks older than the wedding one.

But a true treasure chest is the huge frame he finds above a small bookcase.

It's a collage titled 'The fucking journey' that seems to be a collection of Polaroids from a multitude of workplaces, with the same two people present. Year after year, one job after another, until they got where they are today.

It starts with a 1983 and the sailor costumes he's already seen. They are less bruised and more tired in this one. Knowing where to start, Eddie's eyes track from one photo to another, observing Stephanie's features, her wardrobe, and her hair change until she becomes the woman she is today.

There was no boy in that photo on the fridge. It's always been her. Growing into herself.

Is this what his uncle was talking about? Well, not talking, but being annoyingly vague about it, like he wasn't sure what he was talking about himself.

Fear not, Uncle Wayne. Eddie's going to pick up every pamphlet and every zine he can put his hands on, to educate them both about who their neighbor is, how to navigate the topic and respect her the way she deserves.

#crazy cat lady stevie #steddie #transfeminine steve harrington #transfem steve harrington #tw: age gap #age gap steddie #stevie harrington #stevierything #mine

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writingsfrombeyondthegrave · 7 days

Note

Helloooo there!

Just wanted to say that I absolutely loved the Astrid x ghost!reader fic and was wondering if you were considering doing a part two?? maybe Astrid finds a way to save them and they end up dating or something?

I hope you Have a lovely day! Xx

An Accidental Haunting Part 2

Astrid Deetz x Ghost!Reader

*Platonic to Romantic*

Requested by anon

Summary- Now that Astrid could see you clearly, an unlikely friendship formed. She wanted nothing more than to be with you now that you two had gotten the chance to spend more time together. She would find a way for you two to be a couple. A proper living couple.

Warnings- Reader was m*rdered, Details about death and the afterlife, angst, depression, mention of cancer, trading one life for another, kissing

The afterlife is a complex thing than many humans never truly understand. Ghosts, often thought of as a figment of the imagination or a misguided illusion of the light, were more real than Astrid had ever anticipated.

Admitting her mother wasn't crazy was a big step in her life. Not to mention the fact that she was gaining feelings for a ghost, this time while knowing about the fact you were deceased. Your morbid humor, self-deprecating jokes and obscene amount of knowledge on the paranormal had a death grip on her heart.

Death was much more interesting with Astrid in your life. You didn't feel the dread or crushing depression as much as before. Sometimes you dare say, you felt more alive than you had when you were actually living.

Lydia had decided to move back into the old "Ghost House" after Astrid had begged her, claiming that she would even consider going to Miss Shannon's School for Girls until graduation. It was only one year away, but she had been adamant about it.

In the end, it happened to be a convenient idea. Lydia's Tv show career had ended and she opted to be an in-area Psychic for those in need. Somehow, however with your meticulous hiding, she never once saw you in the house. You have been very deliberate about keeping your identity there a secret between only you and Astrid.

"I hate to say it, but that uniform is lame" You spoke as you laid back on her bed with a teasing smirk, head tilted in her direction as she tried on the uniform, smoothing down the skirt.

She turned to you and raised an eyebrow, challenging you. "At least I don't have an old rock shirt than looks like you scraped it off of an 80s arcade floor."

"Ha. Ha." you laughed emotionlessly, tossing a stuffed bear at her to defend your honor. "Arcades are fun, but nice try at trying to offend me beautiful"

The smirk that remained on your lips made her heart skip a beat, but she would rather die than tell you how much power you held over her. Your nonchalant flirting always hurt, knowing it never held much meaning behind your words, but she continued to ignore it in favor of her sanity.

"Tell me again" Astrid said as she sat beside you on the bed, making the mattress bounce lightly. "What's it like to die?"

The quietness between you both stretched for a moment before you answered. "It's different for everyone. For some its peaceful, for some its painful."

"I meant for you personally, what was it like?"

Your amused laugh echoed through her room. "What was it like to be stabbed brutally to death? Just a normal Tuesday, of course"

No matter how many times you talked to her about the afterlife, you were always careful to leave out the specifics of your own death. The last thing you ever wanted from anyone was sympathy, especially from her. Sadness should never be an emotion she felt when you were around. So, you opted to made jokes and avoided those awkward looming moments of despair and helplessness.

Instead of laughing, she seemed to be deep in thought. "What if there was a way to bring you back?" She spoke so soft that you almost missed it, but of course you didn't. Instantly you sat up on her bed and faced her properly, startling her a bit at your sudden movement.

"Are you crazy? You of all people should know that's a terrible idea, Astrid. It's a life for a life, a crazy scheme that only the self-centered scumbags would pull"

"I know... I know. But you didn't deserve to die"

You scoffed, shaking your head in disbelief. "You don't know that. you don't know me! I'm a freak, Astrid! Thats why I'm dead, no one wanted to talk to me. Everyone feared me because the only people who understood me were already dead!" The screams you sent her way felt like daggers piercing her skin. There hadn't been a single moment up until now that you had acted any other way besides happy.

Without warning you vanished from sight, completely dematerializing Infront of her eyes. She stared in shock at the wall Infront of her, not knowing how to react.

All of a sudden it hit her, you needed her help to come back alive and she would do anything in her power to help you, even if that meant seeking out her mother for guidance.

The instant regret you felt after yelling at Astrid was eating at you from the inside out. Your knees were pulled up to your chest while you sat in a rickety old rocking chair. You looked over at the town model in the attic to distract yourself from falling even further into the darkness.

What you never mentioned to any of the spirits you helped, was that the longer the dead lingered on the living plain, the quicker your soul decays. The deceased were to move on after dying, in favor of protecting what mortality they died with. Your soul fades and your own morals that you once valued in life start to get corrupted.

"The Darkness" as you referred to it was the depressive black hole that swallows the last remaining happiness and hope that you hold onto. If you let yourself get sucked into that darkness, you may never find your way out of it again.

That is how some spirits get sucked into a loop, replaying their death and their most horrible moments over and over again until there is nothing left of their soul.

Smiling seemed to be your coping mechanism to avoid this, always happy and never upset over trivial things. Never allowing yourself the simple happiness that the living still enjoyed and took for granted.

Lydia was cooking in the kitchen when she heard rapid footsteps descending down the staircase. Astrid stopped and stood in the doorway, looking at her mother blankly for a moment. She couldn't believe how much progress that they've accomplished, yet she feared the awkward tension would always be there lingering.

"I... I need your help."

Lydia stopped what she was doing to look at her daughter in shock. "You do?" She dried her hands with the kitchen towel and quickly turned her full attention to her. "Of course, what do you need?"

"The handbook. I know you kept the one that the Maitlands had and I need to see it"

"Why would you need that?"

"I'm interested in your work" Astrid lied, forcing a small smile that she hoped was more than convincing. The smile that Lydia provided could've lit up every dark corner in the house.

After moping in your sorrows for the better part of that night, you finally appeared in Astrid's room the next morning, an apology ready on your tongue before you saw what she was doing. She was furiously flipping through The Handbook for the Recently Deceased, writing down notes in an old notebook.

You cautiously stepped up next to her and looked over her shoulder. "What could you possibly need that book for? You're not dead, babe."

She looked up at you, realizing your looming presence near her. The bags under her eyes were the only indicator that you needed to show her lack of sleep. Her body physically relaxed from its tense stance at seeing you back in her room. "I have the perfect plan on how to bring you back to life"

You groaned and flopped down into her beanbag chair dramatically. It seemed like your usual playful behavior was back at least. "Why must the living be so stubborn?"

"We are going on a trip, come on" She closed the book and tossed it in your direction, clearly expecting you to catch it. It hit the wall behind you with a heavy thud, thankfully not indenting it. You slowly turned your head to look at the book and then back to her.

"Did you really expect a different outcome?"

Astrid hugs her bag over her shoulder with the handbook in it, waiting for you to grab ahold of her so she could start her ride to the town's nursing home. After a deep sigh you hook your leg over the seat and wrap your arms around her midsection.

Your touch felt like a winter chill, but her body had never been warmer. Her heart beat quickly and she prayed you couldn't detect it. Your chin rested on her shoulder as you looked around the town.

You never were a very affectionate person in life, but for Astrid, you made an exception. There was no fear in her eyes when she looked at you now, and that made you feel as if you were finally home again.

The ride to the nursing home was quiet and quick. Astrid greeted the staff with a quick smile, claiming to be visiting her grandmother.

An argument soon broke out between the two of you as you crossed your arms, not happy by what she was proposing.

"Ms. Silvers has been in pain for years from the cancer. Death was inevitable anyway so what's the issue? She seems fine with it" She argued, and you just tilted your head, unconvinced. It was silent for a few minutes before you finally nodded your head, not being able to find a good enough argument to disagree with her plan.

Ms. Silvers was a good sport as you all headed to the cemetery together. She was a sweet old lady with a cane who seemed to be admiring the world through aged eyes.

"My husband loved this time of year" She spoke, her voice scratchy. "I just know he's been waiting for me. Thank you for this, Lovey"

Astrid smiled, walking beside her and making sure she was alright. You looked over at them, still cautious about the whole thing. Your entire life, you had never put yourself before anyone. This felt wrong, yet the old woman beside you could've been the strongest woman alive now. She had more courage than you could've imagined and you admired that.

The quiet Winter air blew past them, and she didn't so much as shiver.

After repeating the incantation in the crypt and entering, you decided it was best to lead the way. You had been to this part before when you first died. Youve come a long way and grown as a person since then. The confident look you always wore wavered slightly, but they couldn't see it since you were far ahead.

The picture for the transfer was about to be taken when Ms. Silvers reached over to give your hand a reassuring squeeze. "Young love is a powerful thing. Take care of each other, alright?"

You couldn't help the smile that overcame your features as you nodded, giving her hand a squeeze in return. "Tell your husband we said hi, would you?"

The transfer went smoothly, and you both walked her to the soul train together. Once inside the train, she sent you both a sweet smile and a wave before she departed.

Your body healed almost instantly; no indications left behind of what had happened to you. Your shirt however, still remained in shambles.

Crawling out of the crypt, you felt as if a rush of air filled your lungs. Your feet met the grass of the graveyard, and the world moved with you instead of without you. It acknowledged your presence and welcomed you with open arms.

You turned to Astrid with a bright smile. "I don't know how to thank you"

"Oh... it was nothing, really." Astrid laughed awkwardly, turning away to avoid your gaze. You looked at her as if she hung the very stars in the sky. The blood flowing through your veins and the shine of your lively skin looked heavenly to her, and she had to stop herself from staring in awe.

Without warning you cupped her face in your hands and kissed her softly, afraid that you might vanish from existence yet again. Her eyes widened in shock before she allowed herself to relax to your touch. Her hands instinctively held your hips, just barely. You pulled away after a moment and rested your forehead against hers.

"Even when I was dead and I couldn't feel anything, I swore I could feel the pounding of my dead heart as if it was beating for you. I'm afraid it will only ever beat for you now that I'm alive again"

She laughed, smiling freely as she looked into your eyes. "Thats the cheesiest thing I've ever heard you say, you dork"

"So, if I asked to kiss you again it wouldn't be as cheesy?" You smirked, and she swore she could get used to this every day for the rest of her life.

Extra:

"Now that your alive, can you finally change that crusty t-shirt?" Astrid teased, holding your hand tightly as you walked back to her house.

You pretended to think about it before laughing "Yes, Ma'am" You winked.

A/N- Thank you lovely anon for requesting a part 2! I have another Astrid fic lined up and, in the works, currently along with the lost boys and others. Please continue to send in requests and I'll get to them as soon as possible. Thank you all for the love on my writing, it means so so much to me.

If there is a possible part 3 wanted it would probably just be filled with little incidents when Astrid now saves the readers life because they forget they’re alive now and could actually get hurt.

If anyone wants to be tagged in any sort of tag list (doesn’t just have to be for Astrid fics), please let me know!

Also, I apologize for the extensive knowledge of the paranormal that I have lol. The afterlife has always fascinated me.

Credits-

Ghost and Graveyard Dividers- @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

#x reader #astrid deetz x reader #astrid deetz #lydia deetz #beetlejuice beetlejuice #beetlejuice 2 #beetlejuice movie #beetlejuice #x ghost!reader #jenna ortega #👻-ghost writing

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macabr3-barbi3 · 5 months

Text

pretty wings- Vox/fallen angel!Reader

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55237840

A Good Samaritan- a rare commodity in Hell- helps Vox to his car in the rain. How can he ever repay her?

(There's a second chapter now!)

Tags: wing kink; angel wings; fallen angels; vaginal sex; couch sex; fantasizing; begging; switching? maybe idk; Vox has a lil crush <3

💙❤️💙❤️💙

How it still manages to rain in Hell when there is no real atmosphere, he would never understand. Vox had never really liked the rain, even when he was alive- all it ever meant was canceled plans, systems going down, deep shitty puddles that got his shoes and pants wet and dirty. Like now, standing off the back porch of the restaurant he had just finished a meeting in, waiting for his fucking assistant to answer his goddamn phone and call a driver for him so he could go the fuck home since he couldn’t walk to his car.

He had been standing under the awning of the restaurant for twenty minutes now. The rain showed no sign of letting up, his meeting partners had all left, and Vox was fucked. He couldn’t go back inside- what kind of fucking loser goes back into an establishment after paying their tab, and for what? To ask for an umbrella? He’d rather die again. And if his assistant didn’t pick up his phone real fucking soon, someone would absolutely be dying today.

“Excuse me, sir?”

He sighs internally, sets his charm to its max setting and the brightness of his screen up before he turns towards your voice. “So sorry, doll, I’m afraid I’m all out of time for photo ops today!”

You raise an eyebrow, and he lets his gaze travel over your form. You looked relatively normal for a demon, your face still pretty human besides the two horns that came off your skull. Your eyes were wide and yellow, a heavy coat draped over your shoulders as you looked at him- not that much shorter, he noted, which was a nice change of pace from talking to Velvette all the time and having to crane basically in half to meet her eyes.

“That’s… not what I was going to ask.”

He resists the urge to roll his eyes, and can feel his screen glitch on his smile as he watches you. “An interview then? Look, you can contact my people but I am really not in the-”

“What I was going to ask,” you interrupt him, and Vox fights down the wave of annoyance at having been cut off, “was if you needed help.”

His face screws up and he means to immediately deny. “Absolutely not. I’m perfectly fine-”

“Are you?”

And that was going to get annoying fast if you kept doing that, he thought to himself.

“You’ve been standing out here for close to half an hour and glaring at your phone. I don’t think its crazy to assume that you need some assistance with something having to do with the rain.” You look him over, much the same way that he had done to you. “I would imagine that the whole ‘TV head’ thing you have going on doesn’t mix well with precipitation.”

Well, you had him there. “You’re not wrong,” he admits testily. “But my assistant will be sending someone to drive me soon. I’ll be fine.” He flashes you a winning smile.

“I mean, I guess you could wait for your assistant to answer your calls- doesn’t seem like you’re having much luck with reaching them.” You cross your arms over your chest, and- nope, Vox was not going to stand out here in the rain and ogle some random sinner’s tits. He redirects his gaze. “Or you could let me either walk you to your car or walk with you to wherever you’re going.”

He throws you a side eye and sighs heavily, letting his head drop back before rolling an eye down to look at you. “You don’t look like you have an umbrella,” he says, crossing his arms now as well. “How exactly are we getting to my car?”

You give him a smile that shorts a fuse in his head for a moment, wide and earnest and pretty. “Who needs an umbrella?” You shrug one of your shoulders and the coat you’re wearing starts to slide off your shoulders. Vox makes a move to stop the slide like a gentleman, keep the coat covering your body and stop it from slipping into a puddle, when it rises up off your back and comes to cover the both of you. He sees black feathers interspersed with white spots as the bottom comes into view, and he realizes it wasn’t a coat at all.

You had wings. Big, powerful wings by the look of it- the part connected to your back didn’t shake under the weight of the limb being extended over your heads. He stared at them; he knew he was staring, that you might think it was strange, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. It was mesmerizing. Thrilling.

He feels a spark of arousal shoot through him at the sight of them, and his plans change for the night. You’re pretty, and the curves of your body are appealing, but the wings. He wants to explore them. Wants to tease you with your own feathers. To run his fingers over them and watch you struggle to maintain this composure you have. He’s confident in his ability to get you home with him- maybe offer a drink as thanks for your help or something.

“Sure, I guess you can walk me to my car,” he says, feigning an air of disinterest despite the twitch in his cock. “It’s not every day one meets a sinner so giving- I might as well take advantage!” He sees the flinch that shoots across your face, making your wing tremble, but you straighten up and stiffen your shoulders, gesturing out to the street being beaten by the rain.

“Lead the way.”

He steps out from under the awning and is delighted when your wing does, in fact, shelter the both of you from the weather. You bring the second wing out to block any rain from blowing under the first with the wind, and Vox is fucking obsessed with the subtle muscle of them, the careful strength in the way that you adjust the angle of them to keep him dry. It seems subconscious, the movement of them, as Vox gave you directions to where he had parked earlier when the sky was dry and he had thought he could enjoy a nice walk after his meeting.

A piece of paper, litter off the ground, comes flying under the shelter you were providing him aiming right for his screen. He brings up a hand to block it- wet paper wouldn’t do any real damage but it was still annoying- when the tip of the wing over your head dips down slightly, catches it with a corner, and flings it off to the side. A drop of water manages to fly off the thing and splatter on his screen. You give him a smile, apology on your lips at being unable to prevent the attack. You turn back to the cars in front of you, looking for the electric blue of his vehicle that he had described to you.

Vox wants you spread out in his bed, he decides. Your wings splayed out behind you in whatever position he decided to take you- he would work with anything. He could trace his fingers over the delicate bones with you on your back as he drilled into you; grab a fistful of feathers while he fucks you from behind, use that leverage to sink his cock into you as far as he could manage; let you unfurl them from your back while you ride him so they cover you both like a blanket, seal yourselves off from the rest of the world and let the only light you see be his screen in the darkness of it.

“Sir?”

He blinks hard a couple times and realizes that you’ve reached his car, and you’re standing there in the rain illuminated by the few streetlights that reach this back corner. Your eyebrow is cocked at him in amusement, wings still suspended over him. “I think walking you over here defeats the purpose if you don’t actually get in the car.”

“Right, right!” He touches a claw to the vehicle and it roars to life as he grabs the handle and maneuvers himself inside of it. He looks up at you now, the positions reversed, and his breath catches in his throat, cock throbbing. You’re magnificent like this, wings still hanging above you and slightly over the car to make sure no moisture can reach him. The rest of your body is relaxed but he can see it in his head, the way that you would look tense with pleasure, eyes clenched shut and mouth hanging open.

You give him a smile. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

The vague chagrin that shoots through him does nothing to quell the erection rapidly growing in his pants. “I was going to say thank you,” he insists, and the way you laugh has him wanting to inject the sound into his fucking veins. “Can I- can I give you a ride home? You know, as thanks for walking me over here, making sure I don’t get waterlogged.”

You look like you’re going to refuse at first but then you shrug. “Sure. It’s not too far, if you really don’t mind.”

Fuck yes! The processors in his head are whirring, wondering how best to convince you to come back to his place on the way to yours. Or fuck, maybe he could just join you at your place. He wasn’t picky about where the fucking happened, as long as it did. He was desperate for it, to have you gasping for him while he plucked at your pretty wings with his cock nestled deep inside your pussy.

The passenger door opens and you enter the car with your knees on the leather seat. He questions it for only a moment before you lean back and shake your wings viciously outside the vehicle, dispersing as much of the water as you can before you sit normally in the seat. You buckle up and give him a sweet smile, pointing a slender finger to the other side of the parking lot where the exit is.

He can’t remember being so fucking turned on before as he puts some music on and starts driving. Sure, he had his fun with Val and sometimes some of his actors between scenes and shit, the occasional fangirl or one of Velvette’s models but just being aroused by the presence of someone? Who wasn’t actively trying to seduce him? Was just sitting in the passenger seat of his car while he drove her home?

It was new, and it was exciting, and God, those fucking wings…

They’re tucked delicately behind you, the black of your feathers contrasting nicely with the deep red leather of his seats. He’d never seen a demon with wings like these before- they were usually attached to the arms of them or draped off the back. More for decoration than anything else; even Val’s wings weren’t so prehensile and flexible, he thought, thinking about the way the tip had dipped down to sling that piece of paper away from him.

“So, your wings-”

“We’re here,” you say with a grin, the car not even having left the parking lot.

“What? I- here? ” He does stop the vehicle before looking over at you, craning his neck forward to look at a building that sat kitty corner to the restaurant he had his meeting in.

“I told you it wasn’t far.” He can hear the giggle in your voice. “How else do you think I saw you standing out here the whole time? I could see the glow of your screen from my window. Figured I would offer a hand since you didn’t look like you were making much progress.”

He stares at you. He hadn’t had time to try to convince you to spend more time with him- to convince you to let him get his hands on those feathers.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

You’re reaching for the door handle when he blurts out, “wait!”

And thank fuck, you do. You look back at him with an eyebrow raised but your hand stops reaching. He clears his throat, fixes you with what he hopes is a suave look. “Let me thank you,” he says. “We can go grab a drink at my place- or I can buy you dinner, if you’d rather do that. Order some takeout if you want to stay home.” Smile wide, he waits for you to respond.

Bells and whistles ring in his head as you buckle back up. “I’m down on one condition.”

“Name it, doll,” is his immediate response, and he’s only a little embarrassed at the speed with which he spoke. “Really, I want to give you a proper show of gratitude- there’s no way this counts. Whatever you want.”

A crooked little smile graces your face. “Can I get your name?”

He can almost feel the error message crawl across the bottom of his screen; he doesn’t know what it says but he watches your eyes follow the scrawl of words, the real reason he knew it was there. “Vox,” he says, holding a hand out for you to shake. “Pleasure to meet you.” He leaves off what is obvious to anyone else- Overlord of Hell, Media Mastermind, TV demon on the fast track to ruling Pentagram city. If you didn’t already know these things then you had to be new- that explained the blatant disrespect earlier, interrupting him, dismissing his words. If you didn’t know he wouldn’t tell you yet. He would win you over and get you onto a horizontal surface without his reputation; preferably with his sharp tongue, strong fingers and thick cock if he had a choice in the matter.

“Vox.” You repeat his name, and it sounds so sweet and innocent that he can’t wait for you to scream it out in ecstasy. You give him your name in return as he pulls out of the parking lot and heads towards Vee Tower.

The silence is comfortable on the relatively short drive, Vox pulling the car into the basement garage of Vee Tower and quietly relishing in the fascinated expression on your face when someone comes to grab the keys to park his car as he leads you to the elevator. “You’re some kind of hotshot, huh?” You ask, lashes fluttering at him in a way that makes his knees weak.

“Something like that, doll,” he says, smile wide while you take it all in. Even just the garage is sophisticated and impressive, and he wishes he could see it through your eyes. He notices your raised eyebrows at the push of the button for the penthouse, but you don’t say anything. “So, your wings- are you some kind of bird?”

A tight smile. “Something like that, doll,” you parrot back to him. “That’s more of a second date question, I think.”

Second date. Was this your first date? Fuck, he should have called his assistant ahead of time and made him get something prepared fresh- gotten some fucking good champagne in- swapped out his comfortable sheets for the silk ones that his bed partners were nuts for even if he didn’t really care for them. But his assistant was fucking useless tonight, evidenced by the fact of your being here in the first place since he couldn’t get a car to fetch him.

Vox might not have met you if he had answered the phone though- so maybe he would let it slide.

He leads you out of the elevator into his home, the lights of Pentagram City casting a lovely red glow over your body. “Nice view.” You stand by it, the white tips of your wings illuminated where the light shone through. He comes to stand beside you in front of the couch, and you give him a pretty smile. “I do have a question though.”

“What’s that?” He has his phone out, firing off one last text to his assistant - "If I don’t hear back from you in the next ten minutes I’m swapping your contract for one of Val’s. FUCKING ANSWER ME” should get his message across- and missing the narrowing of your eyes when you turn back to face him.

“Do you know that you aren’t subtle?” You hook an ankle around the back of his leg and yank, sending him toppling backwards into the couch, his phone hitting the cushion next to you. He has only a brief moment to flounder, wonder what the fuck was happening, before you were straddling his lap, knees on either sides of his thighs and your skirt pulled taut between your legs. “See, I really couldn’t tell if you thought you were. I figured I would ask.”

“What?” He can’t find the power to do anything but watch with his eyes wide while you slide your hands down his chest and settle into his space, the warmth of your cunt palpable through his trousers where you rest against his rapidly hardening prick. “What do you-”

“Ah, you don’t know. Cute.” The word makes him twitch, and when he opens his mouth to protest what comes out instead is a choked off whine as you roll your hips into him. “I like my men a little cute- when they think they’re being so suave and sexy but all they can think about is getting their hands on my body. Or my wings, in this case.” As you mention them you let them puff up a little behind you, spread out ever so slightly so Vox could get a better look. His breath catches- silhouetted by the glow of the city behind you, you were breathtaking.

“What gave me away, doll?” He could deny, but what was the point in that? The night was already progressing the way that he wanted. You were perhaps a little more forward than he was expecting, but he could work with that. As long as it ended with your pussy swallowing up his cock he would be a happy demon.

You laughed, the sound like a bell in the silence of his place as he settles his hands on your hips. “Besides the blatant ogling of them when I first brought them out and the whole way across the parking lot, you mean? You had an error message in the car running across your screen just here-” You lean down and lick across the lower right corner of his face. “You wanna know what it said?”

“Enlighten me.” He’s amazed he can still get a word out with the blood rushing to his cock, hard length pressed against you where you’re seated on his lap.

“‘Pretty wings,’ it said.” Your fingers come down to undo his belt, whipping it from the loops of his pants. Vox nearly chokes on his tongue when you pull his cock out, already hard and leaking in your hand as you tighten your grip. “Suuuper cute. Over and over.” You lift your hips a bit, shoving your skirt up near your hips and hovering over his length. “I wanna hear it instead of reading it though- can you say it for me, pretty boy?”

You skim his tip through the slickness between your legs, and his brain short circuits when he realizes that you haven’t been wearing panties. “Fuck me,” he manages to laugh out. “Was this your plan the whole time? Play the good Samaritan to get me home so you could ride my cock?”

You shake your head and let yourself sink down the slightest bit, a breathy moan leaving your throat as his head is swallowed by your tight, wet heat. “Not initially. I really was just trying to be a nice person.” You throw him a wink, pulling away when he tries to thrust up and not allowing him to get any deeper inside of you. “Come on now- give me what I want and I’ll give you what you want.”

Fuck, if that doesn’t shoot straight to his prick. “Pretty wings,” he murmurs, letting one of his hands leave your hip to brush against the soft feathers. “They’re beautiful. Strong. Fuckin’ perfect.” With each word you slide down further until you’re fully seated on his cock. “I’ve never seen anything like them.”

“That’s it, baby,” you say, and shift your hips forward to get him where you want him. “You were thinking about this, yeah?” With a downward grind you let your wings unfurl completely, filling his vision with a flash of feathers that blocks the light of the city from reaching him. A ripple runs through them, the tremor rolling all the way from top to tip and the feeling is imitated around his cock, your tight walls rippling.

He doesn’t whine, thank you very much. But a broken drawn out sound does escape his mouth, screen thrown back over the back of the couch. He can’t bare to fucking look at you with how perfect the moment is, the sight and sound and sensation of you stuffed with his cock better than he could have imagined. “I wanna touch them,” he says, but when he reaches his fingers out you wrap your hands around his wrists, surprising strength in your redirection of his palms to your chest.

“Can we say ‘please’, pretty boy?” You let your wings flutter, a gust of wind blowing across his face from the movement, moaning when his prick hits a soft spot inside you that makes you gush around his length. “I’ll let you touch them if you ask nicely.”

His pride fights him for a moment- this wasn’t exactly how it was supposed to go, with him at your mercy instead of the other way around. He had wanted you under him, wings spread across his mattress and feathers fisted in his hands while he fucked you.

“I’ll give you a demonstration of what I’m looking for,” you offer, and then your lashes are fluttering, eyes rolling back into your head and a whine falling forth from your mouth. “Oh fuck, Vox , baby, please.”

Pride flies out the window in favor of the feeling of your cunt clenching around his cock. “Please, sweetheart,” he says, and he lets his clawed thumbs roll over the pebbles of your nipples where you hold him against your chest. “Let me touch them? I’ll be real gentle with you, baby.”

You pick up the pace, releasing his hands and bringing your wings forward, bordering him on either side so all he can see is you. “That’s what I like to hear,” you whisper with a grin, bracing your hands on his shoulders and properly riding him now, the slick sound of your body taking him in echoing in the emptiness of his living room.

He lifts his trembling palms from your chest and brushes the tips of his claws along the bottoms of your wings, feathers gliding softly over his digits- the sensation makes you moan, another gentle ripple running through them. He fists his hands in them, pulling lightly like he might at someone’s hair, and your wet heat pulses around him, pussy tight like you mean to keep him inside of you forever. He wants that- wants to stay buried where he currently is until Hell falls to pieces around you.

His phone rings on the couch beside him, the call taking over his screen moments later. Vox doesn’t want to let go of your wings, having just gotten his hands on them- with a shake of his head the call is dismissed, only to immediately come back and take over his face again. “God fucking-”

You lift a hand from his shoulder and answer the call, a right swipe and a wicked smile leading to Vox’s assistant’s voice filling the space between you and him. “-and I am SO. SORRY. Sir I swear, I have never had my phone on silent like this before-” He continues his rant, and Vox struggles to remember why he was even calling right now- he was fucking busy, damn it, what the fuck.

“-understand that you’re upset, but please, sir, I’ll do better, just don’t send me to Valentino-”

“Better answer him,” you whisper to Vox, dragging your tongue up the side of his screen, hips grinding down. “If I cum before the call ends I’ll leave.”

Graceful fingers slide down your body to rub at your own clit, moaning prettily into the side of his face while his assistant rambled in his ear. Vox was going to fucking combust.

“Just- fuck, man, shut up. It’s fine.” You chuckle into his shirt, deft fingers unbuttoning it and raking your claws down his chest. “ Jesus fuck, I- no, not you. It’s fine. We’ll talk in the morning-”

“But sir if you still need a ride-”

“I fucking found a ride, alright,” he mutters darkly, tightening his grip on your wings in one hand and letting the other trail firmly along the top of it, all the way down to the tip. The feathers seem to shiver in his grasp and your cunt clenches around him, threatens to pull him over the edge with how close you are. “Call me in the morning. Now f̰̰̯͕͊̃̊͞͞͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡c̨̨̣̮̝̈́̔ͯ̀͂k̼̼̞̦̞̼̔ o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞f̰̰̯͕͊̃̊͞͞͞f̰̰̯͕͊̃̊͞͞͞. ”

Voice files corrupted, he disconnects the call, reaches his hands around your back to finger at the base of your wings, the skin there taut and sensitive if the keening groan you let off into his shirt is anything to go by. “Fuck me, you feel divine,” he mutters, and you choke off a chuckle at the word. “Let me feel you, angel, cum on my cock.”

“N- naughty men that don’t say please don’t get to make demands,” you say, and he could tease you, could pull your hand away from your clit and make you hover right on the edge of release. But he was a selfish man, and could admit that he wanted the feeling of you coming undone around him more than he wanted to be right.

“Please, baby, please,” he begs, and you hiss through your teeth at the sound of his pleading, sweet and low, the slightest hint of static to his voice. “God, fucking d̶̵̯̯̼̘ͨ̓o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞ i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟t͖͖̠̬͛, please, l- let me w̡̻̻̣͚̒̀ͅo͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞ṛ̣̬̫̍͌ͩ͟s̨̞̞̰͎͎̪̩͕̈́̀ͯ̍ͧͅh̨͚͚͖ͯ̒̄͗͞i̧̻̻͉̜͑ͪ̾͟p͔͔͚͉̬̋ͩ̾͗ y͙͙̪̰ͫ͌́o͙͙̙̘̙ͤͫ͞ụ̴̴̾̀͟͡-”

““Oh fuck, Vox, baby, please-” Less sarcastic this time despite the half formed smile on your face, and the teasing lilt to it is ruined by the clenching of your eyes as you clamp down on his prick and cum, fingers of the hand not frantically rubbing at your clit digging into his skin while you shudder and shake in the embrace of his arms.

He follows you moments later, the tension he had felt since meeting you outside the restaurant finally cresting and crashing, and he spends himself inside of the slick grip of your cunt, still riding him with the effort you can spare after the force of your orgasm before eventually slowing. You take your fingers from your clit, circle them around the base of his cock and collect some of your combined releases before bringing them up to his mouth, pushing inside and letting Vox’s tongue wrap around the length of them.

Fuck. You would be the death of him, he was sure.

“Not bad,” you mutter once you’ve collapsed bonelessly against him. “Might need a couple more rounds to really show you the ropes though- really get it through your screen here who is in charge.”

“That’s not you, doll.” Vox laughs, and you bring your wings up to surround the two of you like a fort, the glow of his screen illuminating your face and the teasing smile you wear.

“I guess I could be willing to share,” you agree, leaning forward far enough to press a teasing kiss to the plastic of his face. “We can talk about it tomorrow after you reassure your little assistant that you’re not going to murder him.”

“Still thinking about it,” he muses, “but we’ll see.” He runs his fingers again along the bottom of your wings, delights in your shiver, and wishes the rain would never stop.

#hazbin hotel #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #hazbin vox #x reader #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox #vox the tv demon #my stuff <3

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