𝑺𝑶𝑪𝑲𝑴𝑬𝑨𝑻

You had been there long enough to build a reputation for yourself as a capable hunter whose skill had been earned through skill rather than privilege.

The clan accepted you.

It wasn't easy, even with your earned respect, but eventually, they all accepted you.

You had fought beside them, trained beside them, bled beside them, even if your blood is a different colour.

Over time, their respect had become something genuine rather than merely tolerated.

Some still viewed you as unusual, a human occupying a place no human was ever meant to stand, yet none questioned your right to remain among them.

Least of all the King.

In hindsight, perhaps that should have been your first clue.

The trophy itself had been magnificent.

You still remembered the day he presented it to you.

The hunters had only recently returned from a difficult journey beyond the northern territories, a journey that had apparently ended with the death of a creature so dangerous that even veteran warriors spoke of it with admiration. When the King entered the gathering hall carrying the enormous skull in one hand, every eye followed his movements as he crossed the room with the confidence only he possessed.

Then, to your complete surprise, he stopped directly in front of you.

Without a word, he lowered the skull onto the table.

You stared.

The entire hall stared.

The King stared.

There was a moment of silence before you finally leaned forward to examine the trophy more closely.

“By all the stars. This thing is incredible.”

The creature’s teeth alone were nearly the length of your forearm, while deep scars carved across the bone hinted at the ferocity of the battle that had claimed its life.

Your excitement grew with every second.

“How large was it?”

The King straightened slightly.

“Large.”

“Obviously.”

You reached out carefully, tracing one of the massive fangs.

“Where did you find it?”

“The northern ice valleys.”

“How many hunters went after it?”

“Twenty.”

Your eyes widened further.

“And only one skull came back?”

A low rumble sounded from his chest. You would later learn that it was meant to be a pleased sound.

At the time, you assumed he was simply proud of the hunt itself.

“Thank you. This is one of the finest trophies I’ve ever seen.”

The King remained perfectly still.

You smiled.

Then, entirely unaware that you had just destroyed months of preparation, you gathered the skull and carried it back to your quarters.

The King watched you leave.

Across the hall, several older hunters exchanged knowing looks.

One of them quietly left before the King could decide to take his frustration out on somebody unfortunate enough to be standing nearby.

Unfortunately for the King, things only became worse from there.

Several weeks later, another gift was presented.

This time, it was a collection of claws taken from a vulture capable of tearing apart heavily armoured prey.

You loved them.

You mounted them on the wall.

You thanked him enthusiastically.

Nothing changed.

Months passed.

The gifts kept on coming.

A polished spine from a desert beast.

Rare hides from distant worlds.

An enormous set of horns that barely fit through your doorway.

Every single time, your reaction remained exactly the same.

You were delighted.

You were grateful.

You were completely oblivious.

Meanwhile, the King’s confusion grew into genuine frustration.

By Yautja standards, his intentions could not have been more obvious.

He was presenting trophies.

Valuable trophies.

Personal trophies.

Trophies acquired during hunts which were important enough to become part of clan history.

The message should have been unmistakable.

Instead, his chosen human only kept thanking him.

At one point, he personally dedicated a successful hunt in your honour.

You thanked him for that as well. By the end of the year, nearly the entire clan knew what was happening.

More importantly, nearly the entire clan found it hilarious.

The King did not.

Eventually, after presenting what should have been an absolutely undeniable display of courtship and receiving yet another cheerful expression of gratitude in return, he reached a decision that wounded his pride more deeply than any weapon ever had.

The problem was not him.

The problem was humans.

Human courtship made no sense.

Determined to solve the mystery, he began gathering information from every source available to him, questioning traders, translators, scholars, and elderly humans who had spent decades living among Yautja clans.

The answers only made things worse.

Some claimed humans preferred flowers.

Others insisted on jewellery.

One particularly confusing individual spent nearly an hour explaining poetry.

Poetry.

The King genuinely considered throwing him out of an airlock.

Then, finally, one elderly woman offered information that actually seemed useful.

“Historically?” she said thoughtfully. “Warriors sometimes exchanged weapons. A fine sword was a very meaningful gift.”

A weapon.

Something practical.

Something valuable.

Something worthy.

For the first time in months, he finally felt hopeful.

And thus began the creation of the sword.

Not just any sword.

Your sword.

The finest weapon he had ever commissioned.

Every detail was chosen specifically for you, from the balance of the blade to the shape of the grip, while master craftsmen spent months refining the design until it matched your fighting style perfectly. Alongside the weapon came armour crafted with equal care, a set designed not merely for battle but for status, its markings and decorations making one fact abundantly clear.

Whoever wore it stood beside the King himself.

By the time the presentation day arrived, the entire clan already knew what was happening.

The only person who remained unaware was you.

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

In fact, your whole body felt that heaviness. Completely dead weight and useless. The most movement you could manage was a twitch of your fingers. Was this what sleep paralysis felt like? You’d never experienced it before but you figured it probably felt an awful lot like this.

When you swallowed, your throat ached- dry and sore- thanks to whatever was shoved down it. 

You managed a whimper, barely audible around the thing in your mouth, and tried to pull your arms up to remove it. They didn’t respond like they were supposed to but you did manage to lift your hand this time. Progress.

Behind the seal of your eyelids, an alternating flashing light of blue and red seared your retinas and a low thrum whirred around you.

You were laying down in a bed of sorts, that much you did know, you could feel the softness of a mattress against your back, but you seemed to be covered in a plastic sheet from your head to your toes.

What was happening?

The loud sound of a zipper followed and you were blasted by the frigid air of a room and bright, bright lights. Squeezing your eyes shut, you wiggled your body some more. You were starting to regain some feeling.

“Body movement detected. What is two plus two?”

A woman’s voice? Except it sounded wrong, too perfect. A computer?

You hummed behind the thing in your mouth.

“Incorrect. What is two plus two?”

You ignored the voice. A whir sounded, followed by a tug on the thing in your throat. The slow drag of the silicone against your esophagus had you gagging, choking around the intrusion. When it fell free, you were racked with violent coughs. For the first time in what felt like ages, you willed your lungs to work on their own without the help of a machine. Chest heavy, choking and still regaining the feeling in your body, you really tried not to spiral. What had happened? Where were you? Who were you?

Your eyes slowly, painfully, began adjusting to the fluorescent lights enough to lift your heavy eyelids.

Shapes were a blur, and all you saw for several seconds was white. After a couple of blinks, a dark blob took form above your head, followed by a web of lines. Tile? A ceiling? It must’ve been. 

“Eye movement detected. What is two plus two?”

Blinking your eyes again, you tried to clear them of the layer of film that coated the surface while a soft tune met your ears. It sort of sounded like a hum, a song maybe but there were no words and no distinct rhythm to it. Some clicking followed. Ever so gradually, your vision cleared.

You could see that what you’d thought was the oddly patterned tile of a ceiling was actually some kind of barrier above you. Clear like glass but held together with some sort of darker adhesive that created a geometric hodgepodge of triangles. Beyond the clear barrier, a normal looking white wall could be seen, along with the source of the annoyingly bright lights. You weren’t focused on the lights or walls for long. 

On the other side of the glass right above where your chest lay, was a pile of… rocks?

Rough in texture, a mixture of browns with teal green spots and some leathery bands. It was unlike any pile of rocks you’d ever seen. But when the rock moved, tilting this way and that, tapping part of itself against the clear barrier in three distinct taps with something that looked an awful lot like a finger, you realized that the pile of rocks was alive.

You tried to scream; tried to back away. Unfortunately, your raw and scratchy throat was barely able to make a squeak and your body remained prone.

The creature stood from where it had apparently been sitting down, revealing 5 rocky appendages attached to a larger rocky body. A stream of musical sounds erupted from it- somewhat whale like and mixed with trills like a bird. It was dancing around, spinning in circles above you and waving its arms in the air. It didn’t have a face, not one that you could see anyway, so you weren’t sure what emotion it was conveying.

You’d been abducted by aliens?! Oh, God… had you been probed? Experimented on? You couldn’t remember. Hopefully you were unconscious for all of it if you were. In fact, you couldn’t remember much of anything- just your name and basic facts about yourself.

Your tormentor seemed to be talking to you; gesturing to you, to itself, to the room. Your chest heaved in fear. What was it going to do to you? Were more of its kind going to rush in and start conducting ruthless experiments? You could barely move, unable to defend yourself or run away. You would be completely at their mercy.

You pleaded for your body to move, barely able to find the strength in your arms to press against the mattress and push your body up. Doing so, you were able to get a good look at yourself. Tubes were everywhere. In you, on you- electrodes covered your major muscle groups and you were wearing some kind of skin colored, translucent plastic body suit.

What?!

The alien moved some more, walking back a step so you could see it better. It held up a hand (?) and held up one finger (?), repeating a two-noted sound. You shook your head and frantically moved your heavy head around to look for an escape route.

“I don’ kn’w wh’ y’re sayin’,” you coughed, your throat painfully dry and scratchy. Your words were barely words. “Wh’r ‘m I? G’ ‘way fr’m me.” You tried to look over the side of the bed to see how far of a fall it would be if you tried to roll off. You sort of felt drunk… or high… maybe both.

The rock seemed to get a little frantic, again holding up a finger and repeating the notes with more urgency this time. Was it telling you to wait? Well, you weren’t about to wait for some alien scientists to come in and cut you open.

Your head was pounding as you moved to sit up properly, vision swimming as blood rushed from your head for the first time in what felt like years. It didn’t help when your forehead knocked against the clear barrier that separated you from the rock with a loud thunk.

The alien made a sound of alarm and pawed at the glass next to your head like it was worried. You groaned and pressed a wavering hand to the clear surface to avoid hitting your head again as you tried to get your legs to respond. They stayed limp and useless.

“C’mon,” you cried, pounding at your thighs with a fist. You felt like you were running out of time. If the alien was trying to get you to stay, that meant it probably notified the others that you were up and trying to flee. It did make you feel a little better that, for whatever reason, the creature stayed on its side of the barrier and didn’t venture into yours.

No time to ponder! Blinking rapidly to get rid of the stars that danced in your vision you moved to grasp your calves and physically lift them over the side of the bed but pounding footsteps rang through the room and you knew it was too late.

Tears sprang to your eyes as you looked in the direction of the sound, waiting for a hoard of aliens to charge at you to tie you back onto the bed. Instead, a single figure ran into the room from the depths of whatever facility you were in. And it was a man.

A normal looking, human man.

You instantly felt like you recognized him but couldn’t remember how or where. He was tall, wearing a tight t-shirt and what looked like the bottom half of a jumpsuit with the arms tied around his hips. Glasses sat over the bridge of his nose and his hair was damp and wild, like he’d just gotten out of a shower and ran a towel through it. If you weren’t terrified for your life, you would’ve ogled at him.

“You’re awake!” He smiled, a cheesy excited grin that had you momentarily forgetting why you were even scared of him in the first place. He approached your bedside in quick strides and gripped the edge. “I thought you were brain dead in there and the system was malfunctioning thinking you were still alive. I would’ve tried to wake you up earlier but I didn’t want to risk any complications of pulling you out of your coma prematurely so I just held out hope that you were ok in there and-” A disbelieving laugh. “-you were!”

He seemed so happy to see you, this man you maybe knew but didn’t remember. And… a coma? You’d been in a coma? Were you sick or something? Recovering from some horrible injury?

The guy must’ve noticed your racing mind because he nodded like he could read your thoughts. “It’s a lot in the beginning, but I promise your memories will come back with time. I’ll explain everything but I promise you’re safe here… er- I won’t hurt you at least. If that’s what you’re worried about. We can discuss our situation later but for now you need to take it slow and eat something.”

Now that he’d mentioned it, you did feel hungry. And tired. And gross. He seemed trustworthy enough so maybe it would do you well to listen to his advice. You calmed just the tiniest bit and he seemed to notice that too because he suddenly rushed forward to fold you into a hug.

If your legs weren’t useless piles of mush, you would’ve kicked him. But when you felt him sigh, shaky and relieved, you stopped yourself from shoving him away. The way he held you, gripped at the back of your plastic bodysuit and tucked his face against your dewey shoulder, had you wondering how horribly he needed this hug. From how tightly he was doing so, it was probably a lot.

You let him sit there for a while, let him breathe and feel the warmth of your skin under the plastic while you blinked away his hair that poked at your eye. You felt all sorts of awkward but let the stranger do his thing. Wondering how long this hug would last if you didn’t put an end to it yourself, motion caught the corner of your eye.

The alien- you’d completely forgotten about it. Maybe it was a weird trick of your imagination after you’d been asleep for so long and the alien wasn’t real. It was probably some ceiling fan you’d mistaken for a- nope. It was still there. The rock alien, standing close by and, you supposed, watching this long, intimate hug with interest.

Fear kicking back in, you made a sound that sort of resembled a yelp and gripped at the man’s t-shirt. “There’s n’ alien-” you fell into a coughing fit, feeling as the man finally released you to press a comforting hand to your spine. He asked for water- asked a cluster of robot arms that you hadn’t even noticed in your panic, and a pouch was pressed into your palms.

He didn’t seem near as worried as he should be, looking perfectly at ease in the presence of the creature. While he helped you open the pouch and sip water through the straw, he scowled at the alien.

“I told him not to put his tunnels above your bed like a creep but he didn’t want to hear it- he said I wasn’t watching you well enough so he was going to take over. He’s been pretty concerned about you.”

You couldn’t decide what part of his sentence you wanted to mull over.

The man waved his hand at the alien who chirped something and balled one of its claws into a fist. “Sorry, I left the laptop in the control room. Don’t know what you’re saying.”

The alien spun in a circle and sat down again with a thump, looking agitated at the spectacled man’s words, a stream of chords spilling from him. Some that sounded much harsher than others. Your head was truly spinning now.

“I tried to explain what medical comas are but I don’t think he really understands so he’s been pretty diligent at keeping an eye on you when we’re not busy. Rocky’s been watching you sleep to make sure you’re safe. It’s an Eridian thing, I’ll explain it later. He’s been very excited to meet you, by the way- has been ever since he realized there was another human here besides me. He’s interested to see how other humans compare.”

Eridian? Watching you… while you were unconscious? This man talked about this alien, Rocky apparently, like they were best friends. They bickered like best friends. Or an old married couple. You felt like you were going to puke.

“Enough about that, let me go get you some actual clothes. Can you move your legs?”

Right. You were sort of naked. “I-”

“Here, let me help.” The blonde tucked an arm under your knees and helped turn your body so your legs dangled off the edge. Your grip stayed steadfast on his shoulder. When he moved away from you, you didn’t let him go. He paused to look at you in surprise.

“Don’t leave me with…” You didn’t say his name, but you glanced at the thing in the glass tube.

“Oh-” The man blew out a laugh, “Rocky? He wouldn’t hurt a fly. He might run your toes over but other than that, he’s harmless. Don’t try to have a private conversation around him though, because he can and will eavesdrop. Give me two seconds, be right back!” 

You had no choice but to let go of his shirt, watching helplessly as he hurried out, but not before turning over his shoulder to yell out, “My name’s Ryland by the way! If you don’t already remember!”

You didn’t.

As the sound of his footsteps faded, you warily turned to look at ‘Rocky’ who’d scooted closer to you again, perching right next to your head. He let out a sound, a coo, and rested a little claw against the barrier. 

Tap tap tap. Then a thumbs down.

You had to give it to the guy, he was kind of cute now that you looked at him with a little less fear. Still cautious but… a little less guarded. And the thumbs down was kind of funny.

Rocky perked up and swayed back and forth with a chirp of definite happiness when you hesitantly gave him three taps back.

“I love watching you come apart like this…” You murmured, dropping your mouth to his jaw, sliding your slick tongue against the sweaty skin before nipping at the spot right where his mandible met his skull. Your hands left his hair, trailing slowly down his chest until they rested on his thighs, your fingers digging into the hard muscle there. Ryland reacted with a tiny yelp as you massaged.

“G-gosh…” Was all Ryland managed to say, his azure eyes squeezing shut as you continued your calculated movements.

Deep down and instinctually, it was only fair of Ryland to help. He raised his hips, his jeans gaping a bit in the back around his waist before he settled back. He just needed more. Friction… pressure… whatever you were willing to give. Ryland whimpered as that spot between your legs kissed him again, almost relishing in the sensation the rough denim gave both of you simultaneously. The dual feeling of your weight pressing him down and the relentless grinding against his clothed cock was clearly unraveling him, piece by brilliant piece.

You slowed your movements, giving the blonde beneath you a long, lingering press of your hips against his. That drew a frustrated whine from him, a smile of satisfaction curling onto your face as he drew his hands back down to grab your hipbones as if demanding to take command but there was no power in his grip. It leaked determined desire.

“W-what do you want, Ryland?” You whispered breathlessly.

As if on cue, his eyes fluttered open, pupils blown wide but his eyelids only halfway open as if that was the only thing he could manage as he looked at you through his thick eyelashes. Something in you prickled at the sight of his baby blue eyes almost completely consumed by black dilation.

“Y-you…” He choked out, adams apple bobbing for your hungry eyes to devour. “Just… ple-please don’t stop.”

Who were you to deny such a kind statement? You resumed your movement, setting a pace this time that was faster and watched your boyfriend tense beneath you. Your hands slid up from his thighs to grip his waist, your thumbs stroking the sensitive skin just above the waistband of his jeans, trailing along the silken hair. His eyes fell shut again, a groan of desperation leaving his parted lips as he bucked partially into you.

His fingertips dug into your hips hard enough to bruise, but that was all the more thrilling. You loved it. Knowing you could bring this calculated, composed man to nothing more than a whimpering mess with just your body. The wetness pooling between your thighs caught on your underwear, was evidence of how much this was affecting you too, an undeniable ache that demanded attention. But… not as much as Ryland needed at the moment. 

Ryland’s breath hitched in the hollow of his throat as the pace increased. You ground down harder against him, imagining how hard his cock must be and how much you wanted it buried in you. The sounds he was making were becoming more uncontrolled, a disgustingly guttural tangle of choked moans and murmured pleas, sweetly dancing along with your name falling from his lips. 

You could feel Ryland getting close in the way his muscles tightened, his air capacity severely limited as he tried to erratically capture air in his lungs.

“C-close…” Ryland gasped out, his eyes rolling back as you shifted slightly, changing the angle just enough to hit that perfect spot that caused stars to burst behind his eyes. “I d-don’t want to… Mmm… in my jeans..."

You leaned down to whisper in his ear, your voice a low promise. “It’s okay, baby… I-I’ll buy you a new pair. Just… cum…”

Ryland whimpered again as you brought your mouth down against his jugular, feeling his heavy heartbeat under your grazing kisses. One of your hands left his waist to cup his  stubbly jaw, your thumb stroking his cheek as you held him in place. 

That’s all it took.

Ryland’s body arched beneath yours, a strangled cry escaping him as he orgasmed, the warmth spreading through his jeans as he pulsed and strained pitifully against the now stained fabric. The sight of him… God, Ryland’s head tossed back, blonde hair splayed, mouth opened in a yummy silent scream and face completely contorted in pleasure behind his glasses was the epitome of perfection.

You didn't stop. You continued to roll your hips, a slower, more deliberate rhythm now, milking every last drop of pleasure from his overstimulated body. Each movement drew a fresh, choked whimper from Ryland’s pink lips, his hands weakly gripping your hips as if to push you away, but his fingers only tightened, holding you in place. 

You could practically see his cock twitching beneath you, a final, lewd motion to seal the deal. You craned your head down, pressing a soft, open-mouthed kiss to his swollen lips, swallowing Ryland's final, breathy gasp. You finally came to a more languid pace, resting your forehead against his, his ragged breathing the only sound in the room as he drew his hands up your back to press you against his still wanting body.

"Wow. “Ryland breathed out when he finally found his voice, his soul now returning to his body. "Just… wow." You smiled, pressing a small kiss to his forehead. “Yeah. Wow.”

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