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lalunanymph · 3 months ago

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୨⎯ 🖤⎯୧ 𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐃É𝐌𝐎𝐍

driven by a desperate need to uncover the truth behind your visions after the chaos at the auction, you strike a deal with sylus to unlock more of your memories… only to discover far more than what you bargained for

𓇢𓆸 MONSTERFUCKING, explicit smut with sylus in his demon form, cumflation, predicament bondage (he ties you up with his evol), mentions of pregnancy, mentions of miscarriage, nightmare landscapes, references to GOETHE'S "FAUST" AND HADES imagery for my rendition of sylus' origin, religious imagery, sacrilege, mentions of food, mentions of blood, mentions of death, reader goes insane, mentions of gore, mentions of violence, reader and sylus had a child together, sexy but it's also pretty angsty wbk, this is barely edited ... sorry ...

They say that no one understands human curiosity quite like a demon does.

Once angels with the entire heavens at their feet, their eyes now scorch the earth searching for souls to entrap and torture, striking deals in turn for pounds of flesh they devour once a mortal leaves the realm.

Demons were cunning and ruthless creatures who struck fear into every heart they encountered; whose natural oozing charm and demeanor could convince even the most stalwart of men to sell their soul in exchange for a paltry consolation prize.

In a way, Sylus reminds you of a demon.

If it weren't for the deal you struck with him to bring you to the auction at the hotel, you wouldn't be stuck in this liminal situation where you know too much, but not enough.

After the incident at the Salon Hotel where your memories were coming back in pieces and fragments, frustration stole the last of your rationality and you all but begged the towering, intimidating lord of the N109 underworld to help you gain more of your recollections back.

At first, he had refused to do so with no reason given.

But, just as you overestimate how stubborn he can be, he underestimates just how persistent you are in turn.

Sitting across from him in nothing but a scarlet robe he had gifted you, the runny morning sunlight spilling across the mahogany table does nothing to warm you up from the inside out. You're still jittery from the explosion and the fight with that strange looking Wanderer, all while your lover (partner?) appears both nonchalant and nonplussed despite almost losing his life a few nights ago.

"I can hear the wheels in your head turning, sweetie."

Sylus finally puts down the book he's been reading for the past half an hour, peering at you over his glasses.

You clear your throat and reach for the glass of pomegranate juice the personal chef had prepared, whetting your throat and your lips for what you have to say next.

"Sylus, it's been days since the last time we were at the hotel," you pause, biting your lower lip. "Don't you think I deserve an explanation of what happened? What I saw in those... flashbacks?"

If you could even call them that.

The dagger in your hand. The blood stains on your fingers. A towering, dark figure whose touch was more familiar than you could ever believe. It all felt too real and tangible.

Much, much too tangible.

As much as you try to ignore it, bury your curiosity six feet under where you could never see it again, your innate Hunter instincts tell you there's something big he's not telling you.

Something he can't tell you.

Sylus' exaggerated exhale grates your ears and he gives you a scrutinizing look all over.

"I told you—"

"You have no idea what set off those flashbacks, yeah, I heard," you bite back, seething.

A shadow of a grin teases the corners of his lips. "Seems like the little kitten has her claws ready. Whatever is bothering you, sweetie?"

Bristling at his patronizing tone, your glare sharpens, your grip around the glass tightening.

"I want to know the truth, Sy." You lean back in the chair and cross your arms. "The whole truth. And nothing but. Why did I have those visions? Why were you in them? Why can't my memories come back no matter how hard I try to remember?"

You expect him to scoff or play elusive with you like he usually does. But, for the first time since you've met him, Sylus is wearing a pensive look, one which draws the angles of his face to look older than his 28 years of age.

"Are you sure you want to know?"

His voice is hoarser than you expect, and you perk up in disbelief.

"You-you're willing to tell me?"

His crimson eyes flicker to the pomegranate juice in your hands.

"I would like to. But, it depends on if you can handle the truth, little bird."

You squint at him through narrowed eyes, trying to uncover the ploy he has up his sleeve. Trusting Sylus didn't come naturally to you, though you did try for the sake of the Aether Core bond connecting you both.

"I can handle it," you mutter decisively. "You've seen what happened after the hotel explosion—I can handle it."

The sunlight cascading behind you drenches half of his face in the shadows, a look of deep contemplation etched in his countenance.

"Alright." He stands up, and without another moment to spare, rummages in his fridge, fishing out a whole pomegranate and peeling it with nimble, sure fingers. Your curiosity simmers to a boiling point when he taps out a handful of seeds, placing it in a bowl and pushing it right towards you.

"Eat up."

Cautiously, you assess the blood red seeds, wondering if this was a test or some sort for him to evaluate you.

“What is this?”

Those crimson eyes glint with an unnamed emotion, and his expression remains unfathomable. Straightening to his full height, Sylus sauntered over to you, hands in his robe pockets; a teasing grin on his lips. He stops just shy of brushing his shins against your knees, and leans forward, broad shoulders blocking out the morning sunlight as he drenches you in the full shadows of his intentions and secrecy.

“You asked me to tell you the truth and I will. Consider these seeds a downpayment for what I’m about to reveal to you tonight.”

Adrenaline spikes your veins, and your breathing hitches with excitement.

Is he really…?

Your thoughts trail off, and you hum, reluctantly picking up one perfectly round, juicy red globe.

Faintly, your voice reaches him, soft and frayed with hesitancy.

“And if I do this, will you tell me everything I want to know?”

Striking a deal with Sylus is like striking a deal with the devil himself. You knew this—if it was too good to be true, there was something you had to give back in return. But… the idea of fully comprehending the horrible visions you saw is much too tempting.

In answer, he cocks his head to one side, regarding you curiously like how a raven might, his mannerisms bringing to mind a scheming Mephisto.

“Of course. When have I ever gone back on my deal?”

The allure of knowing is too hard to resist. As you bite down on the pomegranate seeds, its sweet juices coating your tongue, you never thought succumbing to temptation could taste this good.

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

It’s night somewhere in the recesses of your consciousness.

You should be in your own bed in Sylus’ mansion, high thread count sheets pulled up to your chin, but instead, you’re barefoot in this abandoned colosseum, staring up at the towering effigies of old gods long departed from this world. The state of these statues are in ruin; fragments of faces and bodies missing as if they were alone were the lone survivors of a universe-changing explosion.

Only the sound of your breath and the rustle of your footsteps whispering across the stone floor touched your ears. Your guard is up, and you think you’re fully here alone when a presence makes itself known behind you.

You feel his arms wrap around your torso, pulling you right to his chest. There is no need to turn around; you already know who it was.

Silver hair the color of snow shines in this drab, gray pantheon where old gods and a new world witness him getting to his knees, pressing his face right into your belly that, you realize with a jolt, is protruding slightly.

“I have missed you,” his familiar baritone sends sparks of longing down your spine, and you tangle your fingers in his hair, sighing deeply in contentment.

“My brother tried to keep me locked in the basement,” your words, though foreign to your own ears, felt right at this moment.

Sylus, dressed in a soldier’s uniform, kisses your stomach again, his yearning felt through his sigh when he caresses your hips with broad strokes of his large palms. “I only wish to be with you for the rest of my life.”

“That is my dearest wish, too,” you reply back in a shaky voice.

His smirk, though flashed centuries apart from the Sylus you know now, is still familiar and cheeky.

“Run away with me,” he decided, straightening up to tangle his fingers with yours, squeezing your hands tightly. “Run away with me and let us forget this horrendous fate, my love.”

Tears pool in your eyes, and you touch your belly, as if holding onto it for strength. “My love, my brother will be back and he will wonder where I am. It is not safe for you here. He knows what you have done to me—” your grip tightens further on your belly, “—and he wants his revenge for the grave error you have caused my family and I. You need to run—”

The touching scene is interrupted by a man clearing his throat. The both of you look up to find the wounded eyes of your brother searing through the two of you.

“Sylus,” Valentine snarled, and your lover is quick to hide you behind his broad build, unsheathing his sword.

“Do not harm her,” Sylus’ tone is low and menacing. “Your sister had no part in this debauchery. It is me you want.”

Your brother's eyes, so similar to your own, flash with a hunger for Sylus’ end and he swings the sword first. A bloody fight ensues, one man battling for your honor and the other for your love. Your cries go unheard, as if they are alike to the stone statues observing these conflicts with a detached eye.

“Sylus—noooo!”

His blade sinks into Valentine’s chest, cherry red blood spewing out onto the stone floors. You drop to your knees, cradling your belly in anguish as you cry out your brother’s name over and over again. Your brother’s blood seeps through your hands, staining your snowy white nightgown as you fail to staunch his life from leaving his shuddering body.

He’s dead… oh gods… he’s dead… My last family member is dead!

Devastated, you run off barefoot into the night, rocks and dirt cutting through the delicate soles of your feet as you scream and cry like a madwoman.

Sylus has killed my brother… he’s killed my mother…

This cursed child in your womb!

You want nothing more than to pull it from the flesh of your being, leaving it straggling and dying for breath. You want nothing of Sylus in you—there is an absence of everything warm and good in your shivering chest. All you desire for is his demise from this world.

Hurling yourself into an empty church, you stagger to the sanctuary, climbing the steps and crumble into a desperate, sobbing heap.

Tears drip down to the stone floor, and your sobs echo around the vacant space. Saint Verona gazes down upon you, heavenly in her glow of flowing blonde hair and esoteric glare, stoic and silent, as if she too has abandoned you from God’s good graces. A bubbling laughter filled with nothing but terror and hysteria bounces across the church’s walls and you cackle, tearing at your hair, your clothes, fists raining down onto your belly as you try to rid yourself of the monster’s child.

The scene changes.

Scorching earth fills your nose, and in your hand, a dagger prevails.

There’s a thundering of hooves, like a battalion of horses fighting in the distance, ringing through your hollow ears. The ground shakes and trembles from the force of the hundred horses, but when you look up, you see a familiar pair of red eyes burning through the dark mists surrounding him.

His name comes to you in a flash.

Sylus.

Those crimson orbs seem to float through the smoky composition of his face, though if you look closer, you can see the translucent demonic skin stretching over his towering form appearing in fleeting instances—proof that he was once human.

You glare at him, getting to your feet and wield the dagger, aiming it straight for his heart.

The second the pointed tip sinks into his chest, the world explodes in a shock of white light, and you’re back in the same, decrepit pantheon.

There is no longer a child inside of you, just hatred tearing through your heart as you bare your teeth at his demonic form, not afraid so much as devastated by his betrayal.

“You hurt me.”

Your voice rings through the empty halls with the conviction of an entire jury waiting to declare him guilty.

Sylus doesn’t respond, merely taking one step towards you. His demonic form towers above you by a few feet, but you tilt your head upright in defiance, unwilling to back down and grovel for a man who had left you in the lurch; abandoning you when you needed him the most.

A clawed hand drifts from his side, and you flinch when he touches your cheek, tracing his finger down to your jaw. The mists swirling around him recoil, as if waiting in anticipation.

“I’ve missed you.” His voice is a low croak, vibrating through your chest with the strength of his despair.

You shrink back from his touch, the baleful glare on your lips never fading.

“Why? After what you’ve done… after what you did to me…”

“I never intended for you to get caught in the crossfire,” he rumbled, taking one step closer to you. The tendrils of black mist move with him, and you feel them reaching out to you, caressing your arms, your hair.

One of them touches your cheek, and you’re surprised to find it warm and pulsing, as if human blood ran through its dark haze.

The tendril reaches to touch your lips, and those crimson eyes burn through the dark night, remaining steady on you.

“I only wanted to make sure you were safe. That is why I made the deal with Mephisto.”

You shake at the name of that cursed demon who had stolen your lover’s humanity.

“And why should I believe you now?”

Though in his demonic form, there are still bits of his humanity flickering through the amorphous slate of his once face. You can almost see his lips twisting into a frown, the desperation besmirching his brow with a furrow.

“Do you think I would’ve done this—any of this—if it weren’t for you?” Sylus takes one thundering step towards you, close enough for you to reach out and brush his translucent skin. “I love you! I love you so much, my beloved and here you are, boldly claiming I want to destroy you. It is absurd.”

“It is not absurd!” you cry out, raising your fists and slamming them onto his chest. “You took everything away from me! You stole my livelihood, my sanity, my… my family!”

Sylus caught you in time as your strength gives out and you crumple in front of him, tears seeping down your cheeks and staining your frock.

“Our child… you didn’t even search for me when you found out the truth…”

Your hands clench above your hollow belly.

For a palm with such immense size and width, it cups your face gently, bringing his face closer to yours, the love he feels for you desperately trying to bridge the distance.

“I made sure to speak to the underworld lords. Our baby is currently in paradise now, my love. Nothing can hurt her. Her soul is free,” his voice breaks at the reminder of the price he had to pay to protect you and the child you both made out of love. The price of his soul, bartered and bargained for with the devil himself so his human lover would never feel an ounce of pain in her life again.

You shake your head, tears staining the stone floor with dark droplets. “The price is too high, Sylus. It is too much. I should be taking on some of the burden—”

“You will remain in the above world, my love,” he reprimands you without an afterthought. “I will not ask you for much except to continue living as you would if I didn’t exist.”

What’s left of his human conscience aches at the reminder of what he has to say next. “You are free to love, free to get married, have more children if you like… Your freedom has been bought and paid for. You don’t have to suffer anymore, Y/N. It is done.”

He stands after a second of hesitation, but you desperately reach out for him, grasping onto his broad shoulders.

“I can’t live without you.” More tears gloss over your eyes, and you hiccup the truth through quivering lips. “Please. Sylus. There has to be a way we can be together.”

He remains silent, impassive in the face of your desperate plea.

The tendrils hovering around you are softer this time when they reach out to stroke your hair, grazing your cheeks and neck, leaving shivers of heat running up your spine. Effortlessly, like you weigh next to nothing, the wrap around your body, lifting you off the ground.

Your back meets stone, and your hands are tethered above your head by the dark mist, the aching silence too much for you to handle.

“Sylus…”

The sound of his name from your lips will never not be the sweetest thing he’s ever heard.

Despite being dark and imposing in his demonic form, it doesn’t scare you a single bit when he moves closer, face hovering inches from yours. The tendrils now stroke your bare thighs, feeling the tensing of your muscles under his touch, wrapping around your shapely calves to spread them wider.

“Do you trust me?” He whispers, low and inquisitive, filling your parted mouth with his hot breath.

You nod, unable to speak, but the devotion in your eyes never wavers.

“Yes. With all my heart and soul.”

Your soul. Sylus feels the last remaining stronghold of his patience snapping; he has to claim your body as his own.

There is nothing lewd in his touch when he caresses your hips, moving his sweeping palms to your chest as he squeezes your heaving mounds. Sylus’ mouth finds refuge in your neck, kissing a fiery trail up to your jaw as he tastes you with his tongue.

Your whimper fuels his sick need to claim you over and over again until you bear his marks upon your skin. Sylus lets the tendrils do their part in undressing you; those wispy curls slithering underneath the straps of your dress, drawing them down to let him feast his eyes upon your naked chest.

And you take these transgressions he inflicts upon with barely a grimace, encouraging him with soft moans and groans as the snakelike mist curls around your breasts, teasing your nipples to stiff peaks.

Sylus commands the mist to lift you higher, right at his mouth level and he takes his time to savor the taste of your skin—licking your tender nubs, biting down on them and leaving them stinging from the cold and his saliva.

Your abdomen constricts, and he sweeps a hand down the taut line of your body, humming in appreciation. It’s like he can finally see and touch you without any distance between your bodies; despite his sheer size and non-human composition.

For the first time since his perceived betrayal, you’re openly receiving him with your reactions and enthusiasm.

Sylus, you groan his name like it's a mantra.

The tendrils trickle to the split between your thighs, lifting the hem of your dress aside so he can appreciate the bareness of you beyond your inner shift. He doesn’t hesitate to tear off your clothes, hungering to feel your body quivering under his palms. When your bare body is revealed in the gossamer light, he takes a step back, eyes burning from how pure and sacred you look.

Inches of warm flesh, so different from the hardness of his own translucent skin, greets his claws and he takes his time to touch you; memorizing your shape and smoothness in case he may never encounter them in his existence again.

You throw your head back, baring your graceful neck, and his mouth sinks right into the tender skin, working a mark right on your pulse point.

“My love,” he groaned in between kisses. “My love. All mine.”

Your hips begin to twitch, and he takes it as a sign that you’re begging for more attention right where you need him the most.

He may be a demon, but as Sylus sinks to his knees, he feels like a sinner falling at your altar; taking you into his mouth like you’re the only covenant in the world he wants to keep.

Trembles tear through you like an earthquake, and Sylus has to sink his claws in the plush flesh of your thighs to keep you steady.

He runs his tongue over your clit, through your folds, the weeping wetness of your need running down his mouth, his jaw.

The taste of you pumps his veins full of ecstasy.

Your sounds, moans, cries all filling his stone dead heart with a staggering love one will never find in this universe.

Feels so good… you feel amazing…

Your desperate panting and moaning go straight to his fuzzy brain, and your hips are circling and undulating, desperately trying to get yourself off with his mouth.

Sylus doesn’t care. He wants you to use him; wants to be used by you thoroughly.

Those blood red eyes flicker up the length of your body, taking in the tendrils still cruelly teasing your nipples, your quivering thighs and endless streams of moans signaling you’re right at the brink of your pleasure.

Giving your sensitive nub a tender kiss, he rises to his full height, and prepares for the final claiming.

The way your eyes widen when he reveals his cock nearly makes him laugh, and you gasp, flinching back at the sheer size and girth of him.

Close to a foot long, you’ve never seen such… length on an appendage quite like the one Sylus was carrying.

He noticed your gaping stare, the petrified silence, and laughed.

“Don’t worry, my love. I will make sure to prep you very—” he takes one step closer, sinking his claws into your thigh. “—very,” you feel his lips brush underneath your ear, drawing a shiver of heat wracking through your body. “—very well.”

He remained true to his word.

Sylus spent what felt like hours between your thighs, giving your orgasm after orgasm, using his tongue, teeth, claws, and the mist to get you spilling for him until your every pulse wracking through your body was starting to hurt.

Your cries were eventually muffled by the tendrils stuffing your mouth, the cross-eyed expression you wore making it harder for him to deny the need to absolutely claim you with no mercy.

“No more,” your garbled plea reaches his ears, and Sylus leans back on his haunches, staring up at you with a raised brow.

Your exhaustion manifests in the tired droop of your eyes, tugging right on his heartstrings.

“Oh, my. Looks like I’ve tired you out, my love.”

Sylus gathered you in his arms, holding you tightly to his chest. Your head lolls against his broad shoulder, the exertion wearing you out and making you susceptible to his next ploy.

Lifting your hips, he tests the waters by sinking the tip of his tapered cock right into your heat.

Your eyes flutter wide open, a gasp ripping past your lips.

“Sy,” you stammered, and he shushes you.

Pain. A neverending stretch.

Your gasp is fused with panic, and you shake in your bonds, your body seizing.

“N-no… it can’t fit… it can’t…”

“Ssh.” He kisses your tears away, soothing your worries with his palms on your cheeks, thumbs stroking your jaw. “I’ll go slow, my love. I won’t hurt you.”

You hiccup and give a little, teary nod.

Sylus smiled at your adorable surrender, staying true to his promise and taking his time to slowly ease inside of you.

Without much effort, he’s halfway in and you gape, unable to believe you can take all of him in one go.

A mist tendril helps to keep your body keyed up for him, playing with your clit and rubbing the sensitive nub until you begin to shiver and shake.

You clench your hands into fists, unable to break the bonds that hold you fast to the sensations; that tie you down to Sylus.

He nips and licks at your throat, growling under his breath as his cock endeavors to plunge inside of you.

The need to fully bottom out, to have all of him buried inside of you is much too lustful of a temptation to surrender.

Sylus needs to see you struggling to make him fit. He needs to hear you say the words that will give yourself fully to him.

Oh… Sylus… oh gods… gods…

“No gods, my love,” he bites down on your earlobe, drawing a full-body shiver from you. “Just me.”

His crimson eyes glance down to where you’re connected, and he huffs a sound of satisfaction.

“Look at that perfect cunt, my love,” he guides you to look down, enjoying how your eyes widen and your breath falls out in a desperate puff. “She’s taking me so well… you’re taking me so well…”

One more inch, and the ritual will be complete.

Sylus can see the tip of his cock pushing against your stomach, and the idea of him being so deep, so intimately connected with you, makes his heart lurch and the blood rush to his ears.

“Gods!”

Your scream echoed around the pantheon, both a revelry and blasphemy at once.

His grip around your hips tightened, long fingers overlapping around your smaller figure as he waits for you to stop squirming, his jaw set tightly so he doesn't lose control of his urges and unintentionally hurt you.

“Darling,” his warning comes out as a low rumble. “Please, cease your movements. I am barely holding on by a thread.”

Your lachrymose eyes trail upwards to him, and something in his chest tightens at the look of pure trust and devotion you give him.

Tentatively, he shifts his hips forward, giving a gentle thrust to test the waters.

You respond instantly, back arching and hands turning into white-knuckled fists above your head that he thinks you might accidentally snap off your fingers. Your clenched jaw and quivering thighs fuel him to pick up the pace, and soon, the decrepit hall is filled with the sounds of your bodies messily meeting.

Each thrust he gives you makes your belly bulge, the sheer size of him driving you to the brink of madness as your eyes roll back into your skull, your mouth falling open and tongue slightly dangling past your lower lip.

He lives for the blissful look on your face, increasing his movements until he feels that familiar knot tightening deep in his body.

“You feel like a dream, my love,” his whisper lights up the lust-tinged room with a flicker of innocent love—a great divide bridging closer and closer from the power of his devotion to you.

The mists move by his command, pleasuring your erogenous zones—tugging and flicking your nipples, grazing firm circles on your clit.

Sylus needs you to be at the edge with him; needs to have you trust him enough to go off the deep end with someone as corrupted and wicked as himself.

Your choked gasps and stuttering hips bring about a whole new wave of love and fierce protection he feels for you.

Tangling his claws in your hair, he pushes your face up to meet his, devouring your entire being with his soul-sucking kiss.

The earth shakes, the walls tremble, and debris clatters to the ground.

Your orgasm comes as a jagged cry, and you shatter around him for the final time tonight, digging your heels into his broader waist; nearly losing yourself from the sensation of being completely tiny in comparison to him.

Warmth gushes inside of you. At first, you find it familiar—comforting, even.

But, it doesn’t stop.

Sylus keeps spilling inside of you until you hallucinate his taste in the back of your throat—salty, and musky desire.

His hips tremble with the force of his unholy release, snarls and gasps bouncing across the dilapidated walls demonically sinister.

You should be afraid—you knew that.

But, all you can feel in this moment is raging passion for the man who was once your entire world.

The mists release you and you tumble right into his arms, feeling much too small and weak in his massive arms.

Sylus’ demon cock remains hard and unyielding inside of you, and you think you feel him sloshing about in your inner guts.

Your belly is completely swollen, protruding from the copious amount of cum you hold inside of you.

It makes you shiver and keen at the strange yet welcomed sensation. Sylus, mortified, tries to pull himself out of you, but you shake your head, needing to hold him close.

He drags you to the ground, holding you steady in his hulking build, pushing what’s left of his human nose into your hair to take in your musky, sweet scent.

When you straighten to lift yourself from his cock, you wince and gasp at the amount of white that floods from your gaping hole, making you twitch and whine loudly.

Sylus too, groans at the sight, his head thumping back onto the stone floor.

“You will be the death of me, darling.”

His claws gently drag through your hair, and you sigh, leaning into his touch no matter how diabolical it may be.

Silence resounds around two lovers who are simply enjoying each other’s company. You press your head to his chest and he plays with the ends of your hair, content to nuzzle and cuddle you like he used to do when he was still human.

The thought puts a damper on your high, and you exhale, twining your arms around him.

As if he can read your mind, Sylus’ grip on your frailer body tightens—unwilling to let you go.

“Extend your palm,” his hoarse mumble draws you up short, and your look of bewilderment is second only to the confusion when he materializes a ripe pomegranate right into your outstretched hand.

Sylus’ claws wrap around your smaller hand as he curls your fingers around the rotund fruit, reluctant to let you go.

“This is part of our deal,” he rumbled. “Until I can manifest in a pure flesh form, I will come to you in your dreams. Eat this and think of me, my beloved, and I will be with you the very second I hear your call for me.”

You gaze at the fruit in confusion, about to open your mouth and speak when you realize he’s disappearing right in front of your eyes.

“Sylus!”

Your desperate cries mingle with your pained exclamation when you tumble to the hard ground, the warmth and strength of his body no longer under yours. The pomegranate in your hand rolls into a dusty corner, but you turn a blind eye to it—unable to believe he is well and truly gone.

“Sylus,” you begin to sob, clawing at the ground, as if you could dig up the stone flooring and bring him back into your arms.

“Sylus, you promised me! You promised you would never leave… you… you promised…”

You promised…

“...promised…”

Your eyes flutter open in the half-darkness. Tears are drying on your cheeks, soaking the pillow underneath you.

Numbly, you touch your stomach, thinking you can still feel the imprint of him deep inside of you. The sheets are tangled around your legs, and the emptiness yawns like a pertinacious monster inside of you, clawing through your soul till you think you might go mad with need.

“Sylus…”

You feel the shadows stirring, and without warning, his embrace returns to hold you tightly to his chest.

The familiar scent of him, coming back to you after lifetimes apart, destroys what’s left of your self-control.

You sob in his arms like a child, soaking his robe with your tears and sorrow.

Let it out, darling, he whispers in the darkness, those crimson eyes filling with grief and pain, his tears dripping into your hair.

Let it out… let it all out… I’m here… I’m here…

“Sylus,” you gasp, digging your fingers into the soft material of his sleeping robe, as if your touch alone could ensure he never leaves you again. “Sylus… I’m so sorry… I’m so…”

“Ssh,” he cradles you in his arms, rocking you from side to side like how a father might soothe a terrified child. “Oh, darling. There is no need to apologize. There is no need.”

Your shuddering, muffled wails pierce through the quiet night, and his eyes squeeze close, unable to bear the thought of you suffering from the same memories that never ceased to keep him up till dawn.

All Sylus has ever wanted was to protect you, but sometimes, protection comes with knowledge and knowledge is, in his experience, nothing but pain.

“Do you want to talk about this now or shall we wait till morning arrives?”

He wants to give you the choice he never had—a chance to confront your past and shape your future together, releasing himself from centuries of limbo spent navigating uncertainty alone.

But, you shake your head tiredly, a telltale sign of where your headspace was tonight.

“No. Let’s do it in the morning.”

Your arms tighten around him and he implicitly reads your unease and trepidation, letting you curl your body deeper into his embrace.

Sylus pauses for a moment, finding his center in your embrace, knowing that despite the centuries of turmoil you've endured together, come morning, you'll still be by his side.

“Of course,” he whispers, his voice threading through the comforting silence that envelops you both. He gently kisses the top of your head.

“Till morning, then.”

𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

dawn says: ngl i teared up writing this </3 goethe's 'faust' will always make me emo because all mans really wanted was to be loved by someone (and amass immense power but ... oh well ...)

i had to review a lot of notes on faust as well as this reddit post for reference in this piece so your reblogs and feedback will be extremely appreciated in return mwah

©️ lalunanymph. do not copy elements of my story, sentence structures and plot lines and claim it as yours. do not recommend and repost my stories on other platforms.

#🦢 writes #sylus x reader #sylus smut #sylus angst #love and deepspace sylus #lnds sylus #sylus x you #sylus qin #sylus love and deepspace #sylus l&ds #lads sylus #qin che #sylus #love and deepspace

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estapa-edwards · 6 months ago

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SUNSHINE - Q. HUGHES

paring: Quinn hughes x reader

word count: 1.8k

requested? yes - quinn dating an absolute ball of sunshine and just such a sweetheart and him being so grumpy but melting for her, his family falling in love with her when they meet her and seeing how much she loves quinn but how much wuinn needs her too

warnings: use of y/n.

*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨* ≈☆≈ *¨¨*:·..·:*¨¨*

In the bustling city of Vancouver, amidst the frenetic energy of professional hockey, lived Quinn Hughes, a young defenseman for the Vancouver Canucks. Known for his exceptional skill on the ice, Quinn was equally notorious for his serious demeanor off the rink. Yet, in the midst of his stoic world, there came a burst of sunshine named Y/N.

Y/N was a ball of positivity that seemed to radiate light wherever she went. Her infectious laughter and perpetual smile were like a beacon in Quinn's sometimes dimly lit world. They met by chance at a charity event organized by the Canucks, where Y/N's volunteer work caught Quinn's attention.

At first, Quinn was skeptical. He was used to the rough and tumble world of hockey, where toughness and resilience were prized above all else. Y/N, on the other hand, seemed like a delicate flower, too fragile for the harsh realities of his life. But as they spent more time together, Quinn discovered layers to Y/N that he never expected.

Y/N was not just sunshine and smiles; she had a strength of character and an unwavering spirit that Quinn found both intriguing and deeply comforting. She saw past his gruff exterior, understanding the pressures he faced as a professional athlete, and yet never once treated him like anything less than a human being.

The charity event buzzed with excitement as Quinn Hughes, clad in his sharp suit, navigated through the crowd with practiced ease. He exchanged obligatory pleasantries with fellow teammates and sponsors, his expression stoic and his demeanor guarded. Amidst the sea of faces, one stood out—a figure wrapped in an aura of warmth and kindness, her smile a beacon in the dimly lit room.

Y/N was busy at a booth, arranging pamphlets and chatting animatedly with volunteers. Quinn observed her from afar, intrigued by the genuine enthusiasm she exuded. She seemed out of place amidst the glitz and glamour of the event, like a wildflower blooming in a field of roses.

Quinn's curiosity got the better of him, and he found himself making his way toward her booth, his steps deliberate and measured. Y/N looked up as he approached, her eyes sparkling with warmth as she greeted him with a bright smile.

"Hi there! Can I interest you in learning more about our cause?" Y/N's voice was like a melody, soft yet confident, drawing Quinn in despite his initial reservations.

Quinn hesitated for a moment, unused to such genuine warmth from strangers. "What cause?" he asked, his tone gruff but tinged with curiosity.

Y/N's smile widened, undeterred by his demeanor. "We're raising funds for underprivileged children in the community, providing them with educational resources and opportunities they wouldn't otherwise have. It's a cause close to my heart," she explained, her eyes alight with passion.

Quinn studied her for a moment, his gaze searching for any hint of insincerity. But all he found was honesty and sincerity, a stark contrast to the superficiality of the world he was accustomed to. Despite himself, he felt a flicker of something—a warmth he hadn't felt in a long time.

"Tell me more," Quinn finally conceded, surprising even himself with his genuine interest.

And so, Y/N launched into an impassioned spiel about the charity's mission, her words painting a vivid picture of hope and possibility. As Quinn listened, he found himself captivated by her spirit, her unwavering belief in the power of kindness and compassion.

By the time Y/N had finished speaking, Quinn was thoroughly intrigued. He found himself drawn to her light, her optimism a stark contrast to his own cynicism. And as he looked into her eyes, he saw something he hadn't expected—a reflection of his own humanity, mirrored back to him in all its rawness and vulnerability.

Their relationship blossomed slowly, like a delicate flower unfurling its petals in the warmth of the sun. Quinn found himself opening up to Y/N in ways he never had with anyone else, sharing his fears and insecurities, as well as his hopes and dreams. And Y/N, in turn, showered him with love and affection, her unwavering support a balm to his weary soul.

Quinn sat in his dimly lit apartment, his hockey gear strewn across the floor like discarded remnants of a battle won or lost. He stared blankly at the wall, the weight of the day's game still heavy on his shoulders. It was a tough loss, one that left him questioning his abilities and his worth as a player.

Y/N sat beside him, her presence a comforting warmth in the otherwise cold room. She reached out and gently took his hand in hers, her touch soft and reassuring.

"It's okay, Quinn," she murmured, her voice a soothing melody in the silence. "You gave it your all out there. That's all anyone can ask for."

Quinn sighed, leaning into her touch ever so slightly. "I know, but sometimes it feels like it's not enough," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N squeezed his hand gently, her eyes full of understanding. "You're more than just a hockey player, Quinn. You're a person with hopes and dreams and fears, just like everyone else. And no matter what happens on the ice, I'll always be here for you."

Quinn looked at her then, really looked at her, and for the first time, he saw past the facade of sunshine and smiles to the strength and resilience that lay beneath. He saw in her eyes a reflection of his own struggles, his own fears, and he felt a connection—a bond—that went beyond the surface.

"I appreciate you saying that," Quinn murmured, his voice raw with emotion. "Sometimes it's hard to remember that there's more to life than just hockey."

Y/N nodded, her gaze unwavering as she met his eyes. "It's okay to feel that way, Quinn. But you're not defined by what happens on the ice. You're so much more than that."

In that moment, Quinn felt a weight lifted off his shoulders, a burden shared and halved. He realized that he didn't have to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders alone, that it was okay to lean on someone else for support.

Leaning in closer, Quinn found himself drawn to Y/N in a way he hadn't anticipated. He could feel the warmth of her presence enveloping him like a blanket, comforting and reassuring. And as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, he felt a sense of peace wash over him, a feeling of home that he had never experienced before.

But it wasn't just Quinn who fell for Y/N's charms. His family, initially skeptical of anyone who dared to enter their son's guarded heart, quickly warmed to her. They saw how she brought out the best in Quinn, softening his rough edges and encouraging him to embrace life with a newfound enthusiasm.

Quinn's parents, Jim and Ellen, welcomed Y/N into their home with open arms, treating her like one of their own from the moment they met her. His siblings, Jack and Luke, adored her playful nature and boundless energy, finding in her a kindred spirit who shared their love for life and all its joys.

The first time Y/N met Quinn's family was a nerve-wracking experience. She stood outside their doorstep, her heart pounding in her chest as she nervously smoothed down her dress. Quinn had assured her that his family would love her, but that didn't stop the butterflies in her stomach from fluttering anxiously.

As Quinn opened the door, Y/N was greeted by the warm smiles of his parents, Jim and Ellen. They enveloped her in a tight embrace, welcoming her into their home with open arms. From the moment they met, Y/N could see where Quinn got his kindness and warmth from; Jim's easygoing nature and Ellen's gentle demeanor instantly put her at ease.

"Welcome, Y/N! It's so wonderful to finally meet you," Ellen exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with genuine warmth.

Y/N smiled nervously, feeling a sense of relief wash over her. "Thank you for having me," she replied, her voice tinged with gratitude.

Quinn's siblings, Jack and Luke, bounded down the stairs, their excitement palpable as they caught sight of Y/N. They wasted no time in bombarding her with questions, eager to get to know the girl who had captured their brother's heart.

"Hi, I'm Jack!" one of them exclaimed, thrusting out his hand for Y/N to shake.

"And I'm Luke!" the other chimed in, grinning from ear to ear.

Y/N laughed, charmed by their infectious energy. "It's nice to meet you both," she said, shaking their hands warmly.

The evening was filled with warmth and laughter as Quinn's family gathered around the dinner table, enjoying each other's company. Y/N sat among them, her smile radiant as she shared stories and jokes, seamlessly fitting into the dynamic of the Hughes household.

Jim and Ellen exchanged a knowing glance as they observed their son and his girlfriend. They had watched Quinn grow from a young boy with dreams of playing in the NHL to the accomplished athlete he was today. But what they hadn't anticipated was the transformative effect Y/N would have on him.

"She's really something special, isn't she?" Ellen whispered to Jim, her eyes twinkling with affection as she glanced at Y/N.

Jim nodded in agreement, a proud smile gracing his lips. "She certainly is. I've never seen Quinn light up the way he does when she's around."

Across the table, Jack and Luke were engaged in a lively conversation with Y/N, their laughter filling the room. They had taken to her immediately, drawn to her playful nature and genuine warmth.

"You're the best, Y/N!" Jack exclaimed, his eyes shining with admiration.

Luke nodded enthusiastically, echoing his brother's sentiment. "Yeah, we love having you around!"

Y/N laughed, feeling a swell of affection for Quinn's siblings. "I love being here with all of you," she replied, her voice filled with sincerity.

As the evening wore on, Quinn's family couldn't help but marvel at the bond he shared with Y/N. They saw how she brought out the best in him, softening his rough edges and encouraging him to embrace life with a newfound enthusiasm.

But more than that, they saw how much Quinn needed her. They saw the way his eyes lit up whenever she entered the room, the way he leaned on her for support in times of doubt and uncertainty. They saw the depth of their love for each other, a love that transcended words and barriers.

And in that moment, as they sat together as a family, surrounded by love and laughter, Jim and Ellen knew that Y/N was more than just Quinn's girlfriend. She was his rock, his anchor in a sea of uncertainty, his guiding light in the darkness.

And as they looked at their son, his hand intertwined with Y/N's, they knew that he was truly blessed to have her by his side

#hockey #nhl x reader #vancover canucks #canucks hockey #vancouver #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes

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bilolli · 8 months ago

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Just Dance Care AU!

Ok ok so I thought of a story for this Au but it’s nothing really impactful or full of drama and angst like my other au’s, I wanted to leave this au easy and fun to play around, because, let’s say it. Just Dance and drama in the same sentence makes me laugh.

story and PNG version under the cut!

(I gave up on Y/n design because I couldn't figure out a general look for them. This is you we are talking about! Draw your own JD fit, I'll draw mine soon XD)

Anyway here’s the story so far:

Year 2029, videogames industry made a huge step forward and classic consoles and devices were substituted by the new and upgraded VR headsets with full body tracking. It’s something like the NerveGear in Sword Art Online without the kill switch. Some games still require you to actually move your body (like fitness games or sports because yeah, they don’t have a purpose otherwise).

Y/n wanted to buy the newest VR headset but, while searching for the best offer, they found out FazCo entertainment was hosting a giveaway, the prize? One of their prototypes, a VR meant to be released the next year coinciding with the opening of their first mega pizza plex.

(so the plex doesn’t exist right now). You decide to sign up for the giveaway and after a while you receive an email telling you you won the VR headset and that, to claim it, you need to read and sign a series of NDA policies (understandable, it’s a prototype headset that’s not even in commerce). Some clauses are a little bit concerning but nothing you hadn’t read on other electronics booklets, so you decide to sign. After, like, a day, you have the VR in your hands.

The box let you know with super saturated and colorful writing, that the VR came with a game pre-installed inside. Uh, that’s why they were giving one away, they wanted a free game tester…but you know what, it’s worth it.

You always liked Just Dance games, they make you think about happy memories of your childhood. This pre-installed game called “Five Dances at Freddy’s” is a close copy of your childhood game with original FazCo songs, characters, environments and also some collaborations with other famous artists. It probably will be the cause of a big copyright infringement report.

There are various ways to play it: story mode, Casual dance, Five Dances, and Just Dance Care.

The first one is similar to the casual dance mode but with little cutscenes between a dance and another to tell a tale, Casual dance is how you can play the collab songs, Five Dances is the multiplayer mode and Just Dance Care is a more uhhhh “hard” way to play the game with all the other modes mixed in it. You stare at the description of the last mode smirking and decide to try it first just to see how far you can get before losing (yes you can lose in hard mode in this Just Dance, but you don’t die, you just have to restart from the beginning). Turns out the FazCo wasn’t kidding when they advertised the new headset as a breakthrough in the world of virtual reality headsets, the thing TRANSPORTED you inside the game itself.

You almost have a heart attack when you can’t find your VR on your head, but before you can try something you are blocked by two tall individuals who you think are the “tutorial” characters.

Yadda yadda, tutorial, you can pause the game and exit whenever you need just by opening an hidden menu, you find out your tutorial characters are called Sun and Moon and that you are way worse than you remembered at dancing (damn full body tracking, there is no way you are going to do a cartwheel in the middle of a dance, you still don’t know if your body is inside your home and if you’ll physically feel pain if you fall and you don’t want to find out).

You pass an embarrassingly long time trying to win your first dance battle just to discover it was still the tutorial.

You try to go on with the story but you fail at the first real battle with a bear character named Freddy.

And guess what? You have to start again from the tutorial! Y/n is gonna spend A LOT of time with Sun and Moon if this goes on.

#JDCAU #Just Dance Care AU #bilolli's art

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edwinspaynes · 29 days ago

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Okay so here's something I've been thinking: as a consolation prize for canceling our show, we should be given a sitcom detailing Edwin and Charles's first year living together. Just imagine both the comedic and gut-wrenching story potential! We could have episodes where:

Edwin goes out into public for the first time in 1989. Cars are faster and there are a lot of cars

Charles does not want to believe Edwin that all food tastes like sand. He goes out to an Italian restaurant determined to get his much-coveted spaghetti. Edwin watches him with raised eyebrows as he spits it out, because Sand.

Edwin sees a World War II memorial like a week after getting out of Hell. He asks Charles what World War II is. Charles, who slept during 90% of history class, has to give an impromptu lecture. Chaos ensues and gets even more disasterous because Edwin is Upset at the newly-discovered atrocities that feel like they happened an eternity ago to Charles

Charles installs a doorbell on the Agency door after they move in. Edwin doesn't see the point of the doorbell and just knocks. Charles demonstrates that the doorbell is easy. Edwin rings it 17392291921 times for fun and then tries to disassemble it to see how it works

Charles says something about the USSR. Edwin asks what the USSR is. They have to study a map together because Edwin doesn't know current countries. Charles, on the other hand, is just extremely bad at directional sense and cannot read the maps

Charles learns about sock garters because Edwin wears them

And some more serious episodes like:

A sort of tragicomedy episode where Edwin and Charles sit down to discuss their lives. They're both saying absolutely horrific things, but since neither of them have any normal meter after their lifetimes of abuse, they're both like "haha yea"

An episode where Edwin sees a gay couple holding hands in public for the first time. He freaks out because he doesn't want them to be arrested, says so to Charles, and Charles thinks Edwin's homophobic and has to try and break him out of it. In the end, he learns that Edwin is not in fact a raging homophobe

Edwin casually uses racial slurs that were normal during his time. Charles does a double-take. Edwin reads up on appropriate terminology and figures out why these terms are harmful, thus demonstrating that anyone can unlearn such things

I rest my case. Also, since this would only really have two cast members (George and Jayden) and be very low on SFX, it would be pretty inexpensive to produce. Thoughts?

#im actually writing the one where edwin sees gay people at some point #but have too many projects rn #dead boy detectives #dbda #edwin payne #charles rowland

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crownofgildedlilies · 7 months ago

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oh, don't let your sunshine burn me!

in which: a son of hephaestus discovers a problem he can't solve. mainly, a daughter apollo who doesn't realize just how much her smiles hurt him.

pairing: leo valdez x daughter of apollo!reader

warnings: not proof read, slight cursing (otherwise, n/a)

tropes: friends to lovers, fluff, pining

word count: 3k

notes: my inaugural fic post on this blog. how special. plz enjoy. feedback is much appreciated.

Leo Valdez was going to lose his mind.

Or maybe a limb. Maybe that would get your attention. He wasn't going to pretend that he wasn't that desperate for you to turn your focus to him.

Stupid Garrett from stupid Ares. Why did he have to go and nearly get his head chopped off by Clarisse while sparring, stealing his thunder?

He should have done more than let his finger slip while hammering away in bunker nine. An exciting injury would have earned the most prized reward of your attention, for sure.

"Are you sure she's too busy?" Leo asked Will for probably four times too many to be considered casual. The blond only rolled his eyes and shoved an icepack into Leo's chest, nearly knocking him back a step, snapping him from his far too obvious admiring of you.

Even from across the infirmary, three hours into your shift, you stole the wind from his lungs. He was convinced you were a favorite of Apollo's, what with the way you glowed and lit up every room you were in.

Which is how he ended up in his current predicament. Absolutely desperate for any hint of your sunshine smile sent in his direction.

"Positive. Now, get out." Will confirmed, checking things off on his clipboard. Leo figured he was probably recording basic information like the patient—himself—had all his limbs, both eyes, ten fingers, and was practically drooling at his half-sister. Leo darted another glance across the room to you, still diligently assessing moronic Garrett from Ares who had been brain dead enough to accept Clarisse's offer of sparring.

Why were you blushing so much?

Something awful and too familiar twisted in his stomach, and all Leo could hear was Piper's voice telling him that he better make his move on you soon, because you were too sweet and too pretty to remain single much longer.

"When's her break again?" Leo asked, ignoring the way Will tipped his head back and closed his eyes, like he was praying for the strength to not hit his patient while under his care.

"And you can't ask her yourself because...?" Will prompted, dragging out the final word and forcing Leo to snap his attention towards the son of Apollo, his jaw practically open in shock.

"Because then she'll know I'm totally into her!" Leo whisper-shouted, waving his hands around as if to emphasize his point.

"You come in here everyday with a new injury asking for her to fix you up." Will pointed out, voice flat. "If she hasn't figured it out yet, I'm not sure she will. You should probably just be direct and ask her out."

Leo narrowed his eyes at Will, but on a rare miracle, he was at a loss for words. Maybe Will had a point. Leo was never exactly good at being subtle about his many, many, crushes, and if you hadn't realized he was hopelessly in love with you yet, then maybe he was safe from feeling the sting of your rejection.

"You're not going to talk to her, are you?" Will sighed, tilting his head slightly as he studied Leo, who, despite having already been given the magic remedy of an ice pack, remained perched on the side of a cot used as a medic's bed.

Leo shook his head side-to-side so quickly Will was a blur of blond hair and orange t-shirt in front of him.

"No can do." Leo said solemnly. "She's miles out of my league. Not even I'm stupid enough to think I have a shot with her."

"Well, at least Garrett isn't as oblivious as you," Will shrugged, shooting Leo a pointed look he didn't understand. The ugly feeling was back in Leo's stomach as he darted his attention towards you and the gods-damned son of Ares.

You were laughing, and Leo wasn't the cause.

Jealousy flared up in him.

You, on the other hand, were completely ignorant to the conversation occurring on the opposite side of the infirmary, far too engrossed in charismatic Garrett from Ares who was retelling the story of how Clarisse had knocked him on his ass and sent him to get bandaged up.

For a child of the war god, he was surprisingly graceful in his defeat.

"Next time, at least bring a shield with you." You smiled at Garrett, checking off the final few items on your clipboard. No major injuries towards his limbs, nor his ten fingers, neither of his eyes had been affected, and he was able to hold a proper conversation with you. "Otherwise I've got nothing else for you. Just an order to take the rest of the day easy."

"I can manage that," Garrett relented, which, for a demigod, was a pretty big ask. Taking it easy was never really an option when one of your parents was a god or goddess. "Hey, any particular reason Valdez is looking at me like he's going to send one of his inventions after me?"

Your heart skipped a beat, but you forced yourself to act casual as you turned around slightly, finding that Leo had in fact found his way into the infirmary and in fact was staring at Garrett like he might make a good snack for Festus.

You had been starting to worry, thinking that maybe he wasn't going to show up that day.

"Dunno," You shrugged, ducking your face into your clipboard so you didn't have to look at Leo, or Garrett, or Will—who was sending you a look that was both pointed and annoyed at the same time. "But you're set to go."

"Perfect," Garrett jumped off of the examination bed, acting like he hadn't been carried in by two of his half-brothers, a sly grin on his face. "You sure that's not jealousy on Valdez's face?"

"What? Why would Leo be jealous?" You were ashamed to admit you stumbled over your words, your face turning a vibrant shade of red, as you considered the implication of Garrett's words. That Leo might have been into you, enough that just the sight of you talking to Garrett might have been enough to turn his mood sour. "We're just friends."

"Sure," Garrett grinned wickedly, the kind of grin only children of Ares could ever create. The kind that told he totally didn't believe her rushed dismissal of his words. "All I want is an invitation to the wedding. Talk to you later!"

Garrett darted off before you could swat at him with your clipboard, your face flushed with embarrassment. Gods, were you really that obvious in your crush on Leo?

Sure, he came into the infirmary just about every day you were working, with some minor injury or another for you to tend to. And maybe you took a little longer to heal him than you did when Percy or the Stolls came in, were a little sweeter, but were you so transparent that even Garrett from Ares knew what you felt?

"For the love of all the gods and goddesses, would you please just go talk to him?" Will grumbled, borderline exhausted, as he appeared at your side. You jumped, nearly lost in thought, and narrowed your sunshine stare at your half-brother. "He won't leave until he gets the chance to brag to you about his latest made-up injury."

You didn't have to ask who Will was talking about. Leo was still watching you from across the room, rather impatiently. He'd managed to find a few loose bolts and washers and was currently inventing something you couldn't comprehend while he stared very pointedly at the ground by your feet, having averted his stare the moment you darted yours in his direction.

"Shut up," You mumbled to Will, but regardless you dashed off across the room with what felt like permission to engage in your favorite part of the day.

You had received Apollo's gifts of healing, not his poetic words. And every day you cursed that fact, because never could you put into words just how much being around Leo Valdez made you feel centered within yourself. It was like his very personality gave you permission to the version of you that was nearly lost to time and circumstance and the tragedy of being a Greek hero.

"What's the problem today?" You grinned, the smile your half-siblings claimed shined brightest in the camp plastered on your face almost of its own accord as you stood before Leo.

"My hand, Doc." He sighed, playing along and holding up his left hand while the right shoved the ice pack Will had already given him behind his back. You snorted a laugh, and Leo's grin broke out from the solemn facade he had attempted. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to work again if you don't help me."

"Well there's only one solution," You nodded, pretending to read something off of your clipboard—which was still filled out with Garrett's information.

"Anything you recommend is good with me," Leo leaned closer, trying to read over the edge of your clipboard, which you quickly tugged close to your body.

"Right, I've got it." You grinned, dropping your face closer to his, almost like your heart was in control of your body instead of your mind. Leo nodded, and you would have sworn you saw his gaze shoot to your lips for the briefest of seconds. "Amputation. Mr. Valdez, I'm afraid we're going to have to take your hand off."

"But, that's my pretty hand!" Leo protested, playing into your joke quickly. You couldn't even pretend to hide your smile, laughter falling past your lips just as easily as breathing.

"Then I'm afraid there's nothing else we can do for you." You shook your head, grinning widely at Leo, who was—for a guy with ADHD as severe as him—giving you his full attention. "You're free to go. I'll see you and your pretty hand at the bonfire tonight."

"Glad to hear you agree that my hand is pretty." Leo slid off of the examination bed with a grin that had you flushing and looking over the contents of your clipboard simply for something to do with your eyes. "See you later, Doc."

Waving, you sent Leo off.

Over the course of the following week, Leo had found himself at the infirmary—during your shifts only—six more times.

Three smashed fingers from equipment you knew for a fact he knew how to handle properly. One cut to his arm from a piece of scrap metal. A paper cut.

On Thursday, he came in complaining of a serious burn.

"Doc, you'll never believe it. My whole arm caught on fire."

Will hadn't let him into the infirmary, claiming that Leo needed a better lie than that to come visit, since everyone already knew he was fireproof.

Leo came back fifteen minutes later with a second paper cut. Will took his break an hour early, claiming he needed to for his sanity.

But then you didn't so much as catch a glimpse of Leo for four straight days.

You felt more than a little pathetic, jumping every time the door to the infirmary opened, hoping against hope that it would be the curly haired son of Hephaestus you so adored.

On the afternoon of the fifth day, the door opened and you couldn't stop the way your body instinctively twisted around from where you words repacking first aide kits that were left in various locations around camp.

But it wasn't Leo standing at the door, but Piper.

You weren't the closest with her, but you were friendly. So you didn't think she was there for you, at first, until you saw her talking to your half-sister Stella and pointing towards you.

"Hey," Piper's voice had an edge of seriousness to it that snagged your attention, halting your efforts of resupplying. "I was wondering if I could ask a favor of you."

"Okay...?" You trailed off, not sure what she could have needed from you.

"Would you be willing to talk to Leo for me? He's in Bunker Nine, convinced he's going to make some big breakthrough on whatever machine he's currently working on." Piper explained and you nodded slowly, not seeing the problem. From your conversations with Leo, he always seemed to be in the middle of some big breakthrough. "He hadn't come out in four days. It's not healthy."

You frowned, trying to recall the last time you'd seen Leo at any of the meals. And when your mind came up blank, you settled on your answer to Piper's request.

"I'll talk to him."

You had never been to Bunker Nine.

As much as you talked to Leo, pretty much everyday, it was always in yours and shared spaces. The infirmary, mainly, but every once in a while at the dining pavilion or at the camp bonfires.

But you could barely focus on any one thing in the bunker. Half-finished projects littered the space, along with countless tools, scraps, and blueprints tacked haphazardly against walls and bulletin boards.

Since it was nearly dinner, the bunker had cleared out of all but one of its occupants. Perched over a table, working so diligently he didn't hear you approach, was none other than Leo Valdez.

Without thinking of the consequences, you dropped the canvas bag you had brought with you on his worktable, startling him so much he jumped in surprise and nearly sent his latest project clattering to the floor.

"Gods!" He shouted, wide eyed and hand pressed to his chest as if he could physically calm his racing heart. You couldn't help the way you grinned, a little lopsided, wholly endeared by him. "Sorry, were you trying to kill me? Because, if so, mission almost accomplished!"

"Actually, the opposite." With a confidence you didn't really possess, you leaned against the worktable next to him and started pulling tinfoil wrapped sandwiches out of the bag. "Everyone's convinced I'm your appointed caretaker, since you don't seem to do it yourself."

Leo had the good sense to seem chastised by the glare you sent him following your words. It wasn't like he could deny it, anyways. How many times had he ended up on your patient list?

"Did Jason put you up to this?"

"Piper," You confirmed, pushing a wrapped sandwich across the table towards him. Next out of the bag was a metal bowl, the bottom slightly charred and filled with paper scraps and twigs. "Light this for me, will you, please?"

"Well, when you ask so nicely," Leo grinned, a ball of flame forming in his palm and igniting the twigs in the bowl. Without needing to be told, Leo unwrapped his sandwich and ripped off a chunk to throw into the flames.

You copied his actions. And if you made a wordless prayer to Aphrodite to ask for a little assistance, that was no one's business but your own.

"I've..." You hesitated, darting a glance to Leo before focusing on your sandwich, biting down your declaration that you've missed him in the infirmary. He had already started eating, only further proof that he had been skipping meals while holed up in the bunker. "How come you're always getting hurt, Mr. Clumsy? I thought children of Hephaestus are supposed to be good in the forges."

You would have sworn you saw Leo blush, but your attention quickly darted away from him the moment he lifted his eyes to yours.

"You sure you wanna know the truth?" Leo asked his voice a kind of serious that was almost out of character for him. You nodded, slowly, and forced yourself to meet his eye. "I've been getting hurt on purpose."

"Leo Valdez!"

"Wait, let me finish!" Leo held up his hands to defend himself from your words and your glare, the healer in your absolutely hated the fact that Leo would have done anything to intentionally cause himself harm. "I did it because I got an excuse to see you."

"What?" For a child of Apollo, you sure didn't have a way with words. Distantly, you cursed the fact that you were a gifted healer and not a poet, because you knew what Leo's words meant and yet you couldn't get your own to function. "Wait—"

"I know this sounds stupid," Leo dragged a hand through the dark, disheveled curls atop his head. "But Will wouldn't let me in to see you if I wasn't hurt! So I... maybe... lied, a little bit."

You frowned, in thought. Thinking back, you couldn't remember Leo ever actually being hurt beyond the occasional cut or scrap. You'd always been so caught up in him and his visits to notice.

"I swear I'm not weird. I just really like you." Leo winced, no doubt taking your silence in a bad way.

And you weren't one of Apollo's poetically gifted children, so you simply pressed your lips against his and hoped he got the message.

It was a short kiss, a good first kiss, you noted with no small satisfaction. Your lips tingled and your fingertips were buzzing—and Leo looked like he had just won the lottery.

"You're sweet," You smiled, a thousand watt one that maybe Leo adored as much as your half-siblings did, and nudged his sandwich closer to him. "But you're banned from the infirmary unless you're actively dying. And for real!"

Leo paused, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head, trying to create a scenario that would get him past the barrier of your totally official and absolutely within rules ban.

"I can make that happen,"

"No, you can't," You tried to shoot him a discouraging look, but your smile was far too wide to deal any real damage. "Or else I'll go to tonight's bonfire with someone else."

"Nope!" He shook his head quickly, hair bouncing with the movement and expression light with an impish grin. "You kissed me, Doc. You're stuck with me, now."

You smiled, silently deciding you wouldn't mind being stuck with him.

"That's what I thought."

Leaning over to press a second kiss to the corner of his lips, you pretended not to notice the sparks dancing in his curls.

#leo valdez #pjo #rays of sun #Leo Valdez fic #Leo Valdez x reader #Leo Valdez fanfiction #pjo x reader

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berlynn-wohl · 3 months ago

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All-Time Greatest Similes by Rob Harvilla on "60 Songs That Explain The 90s"

-"Celine Dion sings her songs like they owe her money."

-"The key change in Whitney Houston's I Will Always Love You is like being shot out of a cannon into another cannon."

-"Janet Jackson sings like she's hitting on you in a daycare during naptime and she's trying not to wake up the kids."

-"Listening to an 80's Metallica album is like falling down the stairs for an hour."

-"Goodbye Earl is like they built the whole plane out of the black box that was Johnny Cash's line 'I shot a man in Reno just to watch him die.'"

-"Paging through somebody’s Case Logic CD book in the mid-'90s was the single most intimate activity you could engage in with another human being. It was like drinking beer out of someone else’s mouth."

HONORABLE MENTION: "Direct quote from Salt [of Salt-N-Pepa]: 'An aquarium once told us that when they played Push It, the sharks started mating.' Yo, where...what...who...how...HOW was this discovered? Did someone just happen to walk into this aquarium with a giant boombox blasting Push It, or were the aquarium people sitting around like 'We gotta figure out how to get all these sharks horny' and Push It was some marine biologist's genius idea? Is this what marine biology is? You know how everyone in high school wants to be a marine biologist for like, ten minutes? I'd totally have gone through with it if I'd known this is what marine biologists did. If I'd known about this, I'd already have a Nobel Prize for playing Luther Vandross for some manatees. You want some variations on that joke? Sure you do. I got a list. I'd already have won a Nobel Prize for playing D'Angelo for some penguins. I'd already have won a Nobel Prize for playing Sade for some cuttlefish. That's the best one. I'd already have won a Nobel Prize for playing Jodeci for some polar bears."

#60 Songs That Explain The 90s #rob harvilla

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butterflybuckethat · 3 months ago

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Stranger Places ✶ Part II

Part I - 🦋 Masterlist 🦋

Notes: Carmen Berzatto x Fem!Reader; Carmy finds you drunk in the bathroom of The Bear. (1.6k words)

Warnings: Slow burn

You cupped your hands against the glass windows of The Bear. This felt like a never-ending nightmare, as if Dante’s Inferno was set in Chicago, as if the sky had fallen and you were the only one still trapped on Earth. It took all of twenty minutes after you left last night to discover that you had lost your watch, but you couldn’t go back, not when you knew he was still there. You figured now, at 6:30am, was a reasonable time not to run into him.

The restaurant was spotless, no trace of the confetti or glitter you had attempted to dodge on your way out, and completely empty. If you had left literally anything else you owned you probably would have abandoned it but of course it had to be your watch, your most prized possession. So you went around back.

Sleepless nights were not uncommon for Carmy; plagued with recurring nightmares, the exhaustion often felt more tolerable. This was not the reason he didn’t go home last night. He couldn’t get you out of his head.

He really didn’t know anything about you, not anything he could use to find you. Except for that name, Milly.

As morally questionable as the White Pages are, they did prove useful. It turned out that there were very few Milly’s in the Chicago area under the age of 80; two, in fact. “Are you still there?” This was one.

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry,” he said, juggling the duct taped landline and his pack of smokes. He had already been stuck in this conversation for fifteen minutes. He didn’t mind listening to her story, he had disrupted her morning after all; that is, until it turned into a pitch for Mary Kay. “I’m not really into makeup.”

“That’s alright sweetie. It has nothing to do with that.”

You froze as you rounded the corner to the back alley, there he was. You watched as he spoke into the phone, lit cigarette in his mouth. Even with the bags under his eyes and mussed hair, he looked great. You could always come back, you supposed, but there was something that pulled you toward him. A sense of familiarity, of attraction.

He nearly dropped the phone when he saw you, barely catching it as his posture straightened. You looked so different from last night in jeans and an oversized sweater. You were beautiful and fresh faced and Carmen felt a strange relief wash over him. You greeted him with a wave and a tight-lipped smile.

“I didn’t think I would see you again,” he said.

“I lost my watch.” You held up your empty wrist as proof, sleeve pooling at your elbow, and he gestured for you to come inside. “You can finish your phone call.” It took him a second to understand what you meant.

“Oh shit!” A burst of laughter spilled from your lips and it swelled in his chest. “I gotta go,” he spoke into the phone and hung up without waiting for a response.

Carmen ignored the guilt he felt on his hands and knees as he “helped” you search for the watch, acting as if he hadn’t meticulously cleaned every inch of The Bear just a few hours earlier. The watch wasn’t there and he was stalling your journey towards finding it but he just needed more before he could officially let you go. He wanted answers, he told himself, to the convoluted mystery you seemed to be at the center of. That was all.

“I still don’t know your name.”

“Why do you need to know it?”

His curiosity overrode your curt response, “I figure we’re trauma bonded now.”

“I traumatized you?”

“Well, you certainly made an impression,” he teased, emboldened by the upward twitch of your lips.

You told him your name and he knew he would never forget it.

You weren’t sure how he convinced you to stay for breakfast. Somewhere between his goofy smile and a twirl of your hair, you agreed.

You could hear the steady chop of Carmen’s knife as you went to search the restroom. You hesitated at the threshold, dread flooding your system.

“Where did you get the name Milly from?” you asked, honestly just looking for a distraction.

“It was the name your reservation was under.” You jumped, not realizing he was behind you. He must have noticed your apprehension because he wrapped his hand around the crook of your elbow, leading you away. “Your watch isn’t in there,” he confessed, explaining the nightly cleanings. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I didn’t tell you sooner…” You analyzed his face, looking for anything malicious or dishonest, but found nothing but open sincerity. “I just- I just didn’t want you to leave yet.”

Carmy, suddenly feeling very much like an open wound, went to check his quiche. He was almost hoping for a disaster, anything to distract from what a fool he’s been, but it was perfect. “I actually might have found Milly’s number, though!” He couldn’t help himself, grabbing the home phone from where he left it, he peeled up the post-it with the second name, Milly Walker, and began dialing. He could fix this for you. You might not find the watch, but at least he could give you some answers. The phone rang in his ear and he offered you a soft smile, putting it on speaker.

You were growing increasingly nervous. There was something you weren’t saying. Ring! Ring! It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Carmen because, weirdly enough, you did. It’s just, you left all this behind. Ring! Ring! You could practically hear your therapist's voice asking why you even went out with Mark if that were true. Ring! Ring! Your lips parted. Ring! Ring! “I actually know who she is, Milly.”

“Hello?” You lunged at Carmen, trying to get the phone. You both fell, landline skittering away, batteries popped and rolling in opposite directions.

“Do you think it hung up?” you whispered.

“Yeah, I would say so.” His laugh was low and breathy. Butterflies bloomed in your chest at the realization of his proximity. “You’re beautiful,” he said.

You tentatively touched his chin, trailing your fingers up his jaw. This was all so fast and way too good to be true. “You know nothing about me.”

“I don’t need to.” His voice was hoarse, eyes locked on your lips. You leaned in, prepared to set aside all your hurt and pain for just this one moment, and—

Ring! Ring!

You jumped, startled, away from Carmen and onto the linoleum floor. You stared at the phone, batteries still removed. “It’s alive.”

“We have another one,” Carmen said, amused, helping you stand. You followed him to the second phone, further into the kitchen, next to a bunch a hanging printouts of pastries and movie stills and more.

You watched Carmen adjust his clothes and his hair as if the person on the other end of the line was going to see him. You giggled, only a little, and he gave you a sheepish smile in return. You didn’t really date anymore, not really, not since Mark. It was just too difficult, the awkward first dates, one night stands that never turned into more, the managing of trust issues… So you decided, no more dating just to date. If you wanted to be with someone then that was who you would be with—that was almost a year and a half ago and no one seemed worthy. But maybe Carmen was.

Carmy picked up the phone, completely unable to tear his eyes from you. He still couldn’t believe you came back that morning, like that was a sign or something—not that he believed in things like that.

“The Bear. This is Carmen.”

“Ugh, thank god you called back.”

“Is something burning?” You whispered. Carmy furrowed his brows. The quiche!

“I’m sorry, who is this?” He was distracted, rushing to pull his slightly charred quiche Lorraine out of the oven. He covered the receiver, trying to mask your laughter.

“I spoke to Natalie a couple weeks ago about catering my wedding rehearsal?”

What the hell? Since when did they do catering? He poked you in the side before running to grab a pen and pad.

“My fiancé loved the pasta course so we were thinking that that could be the main focus, like elevated comfort food.”

“Okay, I made a note of that and will call back to confirm.” He was not going to agree to shit until he talked to Sugar.

“Oh, don’t you want the date?”

“Uh sure, yeah.”

“It’s in two weeks, on Saturday.”

“And what’s your name?”

“Milly Walker.”

#carmy berzatto #the bear #the bear fx #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x you #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto imagine #carmy berzatto fluff #carmy berzatto imagine #carmy x you #Stranger Places

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crosshairlovebot · 1 year ago

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birthday revelations / crosshair x gn!reader

pairing: crosshair x gn!reader (no y/n). reader has a nickname.

description: crosshair discovers it's your birthday, and in an effort to try and understand birthdays, he gets you a gift.

word count: 3,793

warnings: none. crosshair ovethinks a lot

Another request! Maybe not technically a request, but @starrylothcat sent in an ask for an ask prompt and said it would be nice to see me write a fic where crosshair buys a gift for the reader for their birthday or christmas and it's been stuck in my head since! so here you go! i hope i did it justice!

also posted this on ao3. feedback is welcomed, reblogs are appreciated <3

Crosshair didn’t like crowds. He gritted his teeth as he walked alone through the market on Sorgan, sidestepping people as they entered his path. It was noisy, but that didn’t bother him so much. Vendors called out to passersby, promoting their various goods for purchase with enthusiasm. Voices chattered and laughed. The smell of food wafted through Crosshair’s nose and his stomach tightened with hunger. Rations were poor choices compared to the sizzling of flavourful meat on grills, but he didn’t have enough credits to buy himself something to eat.

He only had enough to buy something for you.

He had been helping Tech with cataloguing files when he saw one on their nat-born medic. You had joined Clone Force 99 just over half a standard cycle ago with your plucky yet kind attitude, falling into the group dynamic easier than Crosshair had thought. Sure, it had taken some adjustment for him and his brothers to become used to another presence they had not grown up with, but it was inevitable you would eventually find your place in the team. You were hardworking, strong and compassionate. You paid attention to each of his brothers, giving them your undivided focus during conversation and indulging them in questions about what they were doing or their chosen skill. He had watched you talk with Tech about data decryption, Wrecker about proton-based explosives, Hunter about tracking strategies, Echo about ARC trooper training, and of course, him about sharpshooting.

He recalled the way you sat next to him for the first time on his bunk during their time in Hyperspace. He had disassembled part of his Firepuncher rifle, readjusting the scope and the barrel after it had unexpectedly jammed on their previous mission. He’d been annoyed – his prized weapon never faltered, and he was trying to figure out why it had failed on him when the thin mattress dipped next to him, and you asked what he was doing. When he’d given a particularly surly response, you nodded and then just continued to watch him. His eyes had slid to you.

“Can I help you with anything else?” He hadn’t meant it to sound so icy, but he had been frustrated with this rifle, with himself.

“Can you…explain what you’re doing?” you had asked hopefully.

He had looked at you sceptically. “Why?”

You just shrugged. “It looks interesting.”

He had studied your expression, trying to discern if you were being genuine. But you were. You always were with things like this.

So, he explained what he was doing, answered your questions and by the time his weapon was fixed, he didn’t even really remember his initial annoyance. You had smiled at him, your mouth stretching in a way that made your eyes light up. He felt a little flicker of something in his stomach before it was promptly extinguished.

Since then, you have spent time with him like that more often. Not just when he was cleaning his rifle, but other things. Like throwing Lula back and forth across the bunks as you both talked, joking about things that happened on missions. Sharing looks over briefings. Stealing Wrecker’s snacks.

But his favourite time with you was drawing on your datapad and trying to guess what the other was drawing. He had learnt you liked to draw and enjoyed drawing out something other than a medical diagram. He felt a sense of pride in making you laugh so hard you cried with his silly caricatures during long hyperspace trips. Exaggerated doodles of his brothers, tookas and the like, a portrait of you with a funny expression. You liked to draw him with a smile too big for his face, chuckling as you drew and then collapsing into laughter when you showed him. It always made the thing in his stomach flicker.

He really liked having you around.

So, when he came across your file when helping Tech, he couldn’t help but open it. You had told them all any information they had asked for, and information they had not. There wasn’t really anything you kept secret. But when he saw your ID holo looking particularly embarrassing: with wide eyes and a half-formed expression – like you were taken off guard by the photo, the corner of his mouth twisted up in an impish smirk.

He had intended to tease you about it; set the holo to the show on every Marauder screen so it was everywhere.

He opened the file to take a copy of the holo when he spotted details about your age and date of birth.

He frowned at the date. “Tech, what is today’s galactic date?”

Tech looked up from his datapad, adjusting his goggles before rattling off the date. “Why?”

He said your name before telling him, “It’s their birthday tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Tech blinked.

Age and birthdays were almost foreign concepts to clones. With accelerated aging and growing in a capsule, they didn’t really matter to them. Awkward to calculate, they weren’t celebrated. Crosshair had no idea when he had been ‘birthed’ or decanted, and if the Kaminoans documented such dates, then it was classified information. He knew his chronological age, but his biological age was a little murky. He knew he was a “mature clone”, however with the accelerated aging, he didn’t know where exactly he stood. None of their brothers knew any of these details. It was normal for them.

He read the date and your age. What would it be like to be so sure of something like that? To be sure of the parts that made up who you were?

Crosshair cleared his throat and closed the file without even copying the ID holo. He frowned to himself. Maybe he should’ve asked you about it before, but birthdays weren’t a part of his world, so he hadn’t thought to. But they were important to nat-borns, weren’t they? At least that’s what they’d all been told during their training modules.

When he lay in his bunk that night, he circled his mind for all he knew about birthday traditions. Gatherings. Food. Gifts. Would you like all that? Did you like all that? You seemed like you would. He didn’t know if it was something he would enjoy if he had a birthday…it didn’t really seem like his thing, but maybe he would. He would never know. He thought that Wrecker might be the only one who would enjoy a birthday. Maybe Echo too if you did it right. Same with Hunter.

But you hadn’t said anything about your birthday.

He had tossed and turned. You were part of their squad. You cared. Listened. Laughed. Did you not feel you could share the date with them? He didn’t know, and a part of him felt a little hurt that you might not feel you could. Were you not friends? Crosshair didn’t have many friends, but he knew they were supposed to tell each other things.

He turned again, crossing his arms against his chest as he faced the wall. Why did he even care? If you didn’t want to tell him it was your birthday, fine. He wouldn’t mention it.

He squeezed his eyes shut before sitting up on his elbows and craned his head to see you sleeping in your bunk. Through the darkness, his enhanced eyes saw you curled in yourself, and your nose twitched as you breathed deep and evenly. Something in his chest pinched. He sighed before laying back down and pulling the thin blanket over his head.

Now, as he found himself in this market the next day, he wondered what he was even doing here.

Once they had landed on Sorgan, they completed their mission easily with no complications. But Crosshair was still distracted by your birthday. You hadn’t even said anything when everyone woke up this morning. Just acted like it was any other day. You had just smiled at him as you tucked into a ration bar, saying good morning before throwing one to him to eat.

It puzzled him.

When you all started walking back to the Marauder after the mission, Hunter could tell something was up with him, nudging his shoulder.

“You alright?”

Crosshair had scowled at his brother. “…Yes.”

“You look deep in thought,” Hunter pointed out, falling into step with him.

Crosshair broke his gaze and looked away, back towards where they came, to the village they had just liberated. The thought had barely formed before he said, “Do we have time before the next mission?”

Hunter’s surprise showed in his voice. “We have a couple of hours, why?”

“I’ll be back later,” Crosshair walked off in the direction of the village before Hunter could say anything. His long legs carried him to the marketplace, where he stood now amongst the bustling bodies.

He just couldn’t get your birthday out of his stupid head; that you hadn’t said anything because clones didn’t celebrate birthdays. Just because he didn’t understand them, doesn’t mean he couldn’t try…for you.

He started combing through the vendors, most of which were finishing up resetting their stands after they fled suddenly several days prior. He moved from stall to stall, gazing at the different items over people's heads. Kriff, what were you even supposed to buy people for birthdays? Something they needed? Something they wanted? It was all a little overwhelming. And Crosshair didn’t get overwhelmed.

“Looking for something in particular, my friend?”

Crosshair startled and looked up to see the vendor, a greying man with a wrinkled face, horns protruding from his forehead and curled up in an elegant spiral shape.

Crosshair frowned, clearing his throat. “It’s…my friend's birthday today.”

The man’s face lit up. “Wonderful! Birthdays are special.”

Crosshair’s mouth tightened as the man continued to speak. “What were you thinking of gifting them?”

The hairs on Crosshair’s neck stood up with nerves. “I…I don’t know.”

The man’s face lit up. “Perhaps I can help.”

The man then went through the different items at his stand. He held up scarves, strings of beads, and handmade pottery. Crosshair thought they were all nice enough, but he wasn’t swimming in credits. And none of the items really felt like you. The vendor was patient, more patient than he should’ve been. Either he really wanted to help or was desperate for a sale in a competitive marketplace.

After many minutes and many items, Crosshair felt himself gradually stiffening, becoming more and more on edge and uncomfortable. He felt so out of his depth. He was always so sure of everything, and trying to do this thing he had no experience in, made him more vulnerable than he had in a long time. It was not a feeling he felt comfortable with. Never had been.

And as much as he liked you, maybe this was all a stupid idea. You hadn’t mentioned your birthday for a reason. He shouldn’t bring it up. If he did, he’d have to explain how he found out…and he didn’t want to go through that awkwardness. He was about to open his mouth and tell the over-enthusiastic vendor: thank you, but he wouldn’t bother with a gift, when the vendor clapped his hands loudly, making Crosshair jump.

“I may have something back here, hold on,” he said as he turned away to rifle noisily through a crate behind him.

Crosshair felt his fist curl at his sides, and this should’ve been his opening to slide away unnoticed until he looked down and saw a brown leather book. Crosshair halted and lifted a gloved hand to the soft worn cover, running his fingers over the engravings in the bound leather. He opened the cover, seeing it was a blank notebook, and it had a writing implement tucked into the spine. Not many people recorded things the traditional way anymore; datapads were much more efficient and stored more information than the pages of a notebook. He flicked through the pages, fanning them with his thumb. The dust drifted up and it was a smell he didn’t recognise, but he supposed it was the smell of paper.

“That’s a good choice.”

Crosshair retracted his hand as if he was a cadet being scolded, and looked up at the vendor, who held an oversized pot that would break the second it came aboard the Marauder.

“That would be a perfect gift,” the vendor continued, nodding at the notebook.

Crosshair looked at him before picking up the notebook – more surely this time, and turned it over in his hands. He imagined you in your bunk, scribbling in it at night with a torch in one hand. He imagined you keeping it under your pillow for safekeeping. He imagined you doodling in it, showing him your drawings with that smile on your face. He imagined drawing in it with you. The corner of his mouth twitched upward.

“How much?” Crosshair asked.

“It’s yours.”

Crosshair’s head snapped towards the vendor. “What?”

The vendor waved him away. “Take it.”

Crosshair blinked, confused. “…I have to pay you.”

“No, you don’t. I’ve been trying to sell that for years. You’d be doing me a favour.”

Crosshair furrowed his brow. “…Isn’t the customer supposed to be right?”

The vendor barked out a laugh. “Not this time, my friend.”

Crosshair dug into his pocket anyway and pulled out half the credits. “For your patience…at least.”

The vendor chuckled and took them. “Thank you. I hope your friend likes it.”

Crosshair didn’t respond as the man turned away, placing the pot down before calling out to other marketgoers, trying to entice them.

Crosshair walked back through the market, the notebook feeling heavy in his hand. Leaving the village, he made his way back to the Marauder, thoughts swimming in his head.

Kriff, what if you hated it? Or thought it was stupid? What if all his knowledge on birthdays was completely inaccurate and you would think him strange for giving you something? Or what if you just thought he was weird for getting you something at all?

Crosshair’s grip on the notebook tightened. He just wanted to do something nice. Like you always did for them. But this is why he avoided it. It was so vulnerable being nice. Being nice left you open for hurt, open for aching. It was much easier to keep it at bay, to restrict it. To hide it behind actions inconspicuously where it wasn’t out in the open. Being so open with it for you…he wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it scared him. The doubt crept in. Crosshair had conviction and confidence, and he wasn’t used to it wavering like this.

He was just about ready to throw the notebook into a bush and never speak of it again when he heard your voice ring out from the steps of the Marauder.

“Crosshair!”

You placed your datapad down and ran over to him. He hid the notebook behind his back with both hands, gripping it so hard he knew his knuckles would be white as you approached him with a smile.

“Hey,” he said, hoping he sounded normal.

“Where’d you go? You disappeared after the mission.”

“I was just…looking for something,” he said carefully. Dank farrik, how was he supposed to do this? He thought he might just leave it on your bunk when you were distracted with a little note written inside the cover saying, ‘Happy Birthday’. That way he could avoid your reaction when you saw it. He didn’t even know how to get into the Marauder with it now that you were here in front of him.

You tilted your head with a quizzical smile. “Looking for something?”

Crosshair nodded. “I couldn’t find it,” he lied.

“Oh…okay,” you looked at him weirdly. Would you look at him like that when you saw his gift?

Crosshair nodded to the Marauder, desperate to get on board and stow the notebook away until he could leave it on your bunk. “Should we go inside?”

You looked at him, narrowing your eyes. “What are you hiding?”

“I’m not hiding anything, meshurok,” he lied, his grip tightening again.

“Yes, you are,” you sidestepped him to look behind him and he leapt out of the way. You grinned. “You are! What are you hiding, Cross? Why can’t I see?” you tried to chase him around, but Crosshair kept angling himself away. Kriff, he had never felt so stupid in his whole life.

“It’s nothing. Get your meddling hands away from me, you di’kut,” he walked backwards in a circle, his face and neck hot.

“Crosshair,” you chided, smiling at him. “Come on, is it really that bad?”

“Go away,” he grumbled, hands aching from holding the damned notebook so tight.

“Crosshair,” you said his name again, and your face was stretched in that playful grin that he’d unwillingly memorised. That thing in his stomach flickered again.

Then he remembered how you didn’t tell him about your birthday. And how you were friends, but you didn’t say anything about it. And how he had this unexplainable feeling he couldn’t name sitting in his stomach that compelled him to go to a village market and pick out a stupid gift for a birthday tradition he didn’t even understand just to do something nice for you the way you did for him and his brothers.

Crosshair’s expression flared and he shoved the notebook at your chest. You startled at your hand came up to grab it, sliding against his like a searing snake. He pulled his hand back and balled both at his sides as he gritted out, “Happy birthday.”

All he saw was your eyes were wide before he stalked off, almost stomping his way to the Marauder. His face burned, and embarrassment flooded his body. He felt so stupid, and he hated feeling stupid. He hated the feeling of being on the end of someone’s judgement. He hated knowing that he’d just been forced to make himself vulnerable. But mostly, he hated the feeling of you not trusting him with what was supposed to be the important parts of you.

“Crosshair!”

Your voice came from behind him, but he didn’t turn around. He was already planning different ways he could avoid you. He was going to lock himself in the ‘fresher until the next mission and make sure Hunter placed him on watch at opposite times to you. Whatever it took. His heart panged. You were one of the only people outside his brothers he liked. He would mourn the shared jokes and laughter, and time spent with you, knowing it couldn’t happen anymore.

“Crosshair, wait.”

He felt a hand on his arm pull him back. He swayed backwards, but he let you stop him. He avoided your gaze, scowl burning an outline in his brow as he stared off into the middle distance. Your hand stayed on his arm, and he felt it through the plastoid wrapped around his forearm, squeezing him there. It felt like part of him, and that made him feel both warm with content and spiked with anger simultaneously.

“Cross, please look at me,” your voice said quietly, and his heart squeezed. He slowly moved his gaze, looking down, then sliding his eyes to your bare hand on his arm before they lifted to your face. Your brows were slanted downwards, looking at him with such softness in your eyes he felt the flickering in his chest again.

“How did you…” your voice was soft and trailed off, notebook in your other hand.

“It doesn’t matter,” he dismissed with gritted words.

He felt your hand flex with your grip. “It does to me.”

He studied your face carefully before saying, “…I was helping Tech with cataloguing his files. I saw your birthday in yours.”

You continued looking at him with an indecipherable gaze and moved your hand slowly from his arm to his wrist, your bare fingertips brushing his gloves. You gently grazed his fingers as you let his hand drop softly. He watched you as you inspected the book, hands turning it over, fanning through the pages. He studied your expression, trying to discern what you thought, feeling anxiety grow in his stomach, his throat tightening. He felt something hot poke inside him as he watched your mouth turn up into a smile as you gazed at his gift.

“I’ve been so busy this year that I forgot about my birthday.”

Crosshair hoped he hid his surprise. You not telling him about your birthday…it was never about him. Of course, you had forgotten. The past six cycles had been a whirlwind for you trying to adjust to a soldier’s lifestyle, countless missions and trying to fit in with his brothers. His face burned again. He was a fool.

You looked up at him, a smirk itching the corners of your mouth. “Been too busy keeping you boys in line.”

Crosshair scoffed lightly, letting a puff of breath out of his nose. Your smile widened.

“This is a beautiful gift, Cross. Thank you for getting it for me,” you place your hand on his arm again, squeezing gently to show your appreciation He felt his heart lift and his cheeks redden, but this time, not in embarrassment.

He nodded at you. “I’m…glad you like it. I don’t have much experience with birthdays.”

Your smile touched the edges of your eyes. “That’s what makes it even more special.”

You reached up on your tip toes and wrapped your arms around his neck, embracing him. Crosshair stiffened in shock and surprise before he slowly wrapped his arms around your torso. His fingers grazed your sides, and there was something wildly comforting about holding you like this. He could feel the side of your face pressed into his neck, just below his ear, and your breath tickled the sliver of open skin not covered by his blacks. You were so warm. He felt you squeeze him gently and he didn’t stop himself from squeezing back.

You were his best friend, after all.

You pulled away, but not before you cupped his face and placed a kiss on his cheek. Crosshair flinched and his eyes widened as you lowered yourself back down on flat feet with one of the most joyful smiles he’d ever seen gracing your face. The action had surprised him more than anything else had.

“I’m going to show everyone what you got me,” you said before running off towards the Marauder.

“No, don’t, they’ll—” Crosshair started but you were already halfway up the gangplank. His brothers’ teasing was going to be ruthless.

He sighed, shaking his head before following you, that thing flickering in his chest. He didn’t understand it, but he didn’t try to extinguish it.

banner art by @vimse

mando'a / meshurok = gemstone thank you for reading! i did find this one slightly challenging bc it's very much crosshair in his head and i tried to write him how i thought he would react to a situation like this, but if it's a little OOC, i apologise! but i think he would react like this if someone he cared about didn't tell him something important about them; someone who was his friend and who he liked very much. i think he'd be kinda mad and hurt but he cares too much to not do anything at all. i have more gen requests on the way, so stay tuned if you're interested! <3

tags @starrylothcat @sinfulsalutations @moodymisty @nahoney22 @freesia-writes @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @bobaprint @crosshairsnose @jesseeka @thegalaxys-edge @snarky-mans-gf @chopper-base @wenalena @shredderwest @leavingkamino @rexamongthestars @r2d2staser @bluebird-dreams @pb-jellybeans @a-streakofblue @theawkwardartist12 @mylifeisactuallyamess @padawancat97 @littlecrowtime @jedipoodoo

i now have a TAGLIST FORM!! please fill it out if you'd like to be tagged in future fics! (please let me know if there are any issues with the form)

(if i've already been tagging you and you've interacted with my work consistently, you will still be tagged, but filling out the taglist will ensure you get tagged in the fics you want to be tagged in! it also makes it easier for me in the future when i post my work.)

#larissa writes #crosshair x reader #crosshair x reader fic #crosshair fluff #soft crosshair #tbb x reader #the bad batch crosshair #tbb crosshair fic #crosshair fic #the bad batch fluff #crosshair the bad batch #tbb crosshair #bad batch crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair x you

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runninriot · 3 months ago

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Love Me Til It Hurts

written for @steddiesongfics

Becoming a monster had always sounded kind of… intriguing.

The reality of it, however, sucked big time.

And maybe that’s just due to the circumstances of how it happened. Because nearly being eaten alive by demon bats in a place that resembles more hell than Hawkins (or- now that he thinks about it, maybe it just shows Hawkins’s true face because his hometown kind of always had been hell) and the fact that it fucking hurt to be transformed into the human-monster-abnormality that he is now.

So, yeah. Becoming a monster had been a literal nightmare.

Being one, on the other hand, is even crazier than he’d ever imagined it would be.

Sure, it was scary at first, to suddenly see the world in a different light. Literally. And to suddenly be able to hear sounds he’d never heard before. To smell and taste flavours he never even knew existed. But he soon learned to accept it, made peace with his new self and all the traits that come with it.

Being a monster is kind of fun, to be honest, and to feel superior in a way, to be stronger, taller, more powerful than he could ever have dreamed of being is just a bonus. A little cherry on top. Something that keeps him sane whenever the memories of their final fight against Vecna replay in his mind.

Because now, he’s able to protect his friends. To watch out for them. To make sure they’re safe.

And giving up part of his humanity for that is a prize he’d be willing to pay all over again.

That and the fact that being this new, better version of himself changed his life in ways he never thought would be possible.

He’s been living in the Harrington home ever since they brought him back, with Steve helping him discover and... explore all the changes he’s been going through.

And that had been a wild ride from the start.

Nothing and no one could’ve prepared Eddie for finding out just how much of a freak Steve Harrington would turn out to be.

Because he is. Oh God, he is. Maybe the biggest freak of them all.

Freaky in a way Eddie still has a hard time believing is not just some side effect from being bitten by the same gnarly creatures, or maybe from swallowing that bat’s blood when he ripped it apart with his teeth, looking all rough and grimy and too fucking sexy, bleeding and bare chested and-

Where was he?

Oh, yeah.

Whatever it is, however Eddie got so lucky – he cherishes every moment of it. Because ever since coming back wrong, everything in his life suddenly went right.

🩸🖤🩸

When Steve offered his blood to Eddie for the first time, he nearly lost it because- shit, that was better than any trip. No drug could ever compare to the effect Steve’s blood had on him, finally scratching that itch that had been driving him mad ever since his transformation.

But it didn’t stop there, no. What Eddie initially thought was just one of the endless self-sacrificing acts Steve is known for, turned out to be so much more. Because somehow, Steve found a liking in Eddie’s new form.

It took Eddie a while to figure it out. To understand why Steve suddenly always came so close. Always in his periphery at least, always touching when they were sitting next to each other. Always right there, waiting for Eddie’s next blood rush, too quick to offer his wrist or neck for Eddie to sink his teeth in.

Look, call him stupid or whatever, but how the hell could Eddie have known that fangs and wings would do it for Steve?

And he should have been offended, really, when Steve finally confessed. Because-

Honestly, Steve? You’re telling me I had to literally die for you to finally notice me?

But let’s be real. Eddie would gladly let himself be turned into a fucking worm if it meant he could have Steve in return.

Yeah, that man’s definitely worth dying for.

If anyone asked him, he’d deny it but Eddie had a crush on Steve long before the world went to shit. But never – not even in his wildest dreams – did he dare to fantasize about a future where he’d know what Steve looks like underneath his stupid polos and illegally tight jeans.

And now he does.

Knows all the parts of him, even the hidden ones. Because Steve is a goddamn monster lover, in every sense of the word.

🩸🖤🩸

The first time Eddie realised Steve’s quiet whimpers were more than just a response to the pain of having the skin of his neck pierced by razor-sharp teeth, was a true revelation. He still remembers how embarrassed Steve had been when Eddie noticed the dark patch at the front of his sweats. He was still visibly half hard and Eddie – lost in the daze of drinking his blood – couldn’t stop staring.

He tried to apologise, tried to tell Steve that it was okay, that is was probably just his body’s reaction to being drained because that shit’s not normal, is it? But Steve just shook his head, took Eddie’s large, clawed hand and placed it right above the wet spot in the front of his pants.

Eddie nearly choked on his own tongue, overcome with a desire to take and claim, to touch Steve where his blood was pulsing hot and hard beneath the damp fabric.

He needed Steve in ways that should’ve scared them both but- did he mention that Steve’s a freak?

Because he didn’t even wait for permission, didn’t stop one second to consider how dangerous this was, or could’ve been, when he crawled into Eddie’s lap like a love-sick dog, whining and whimpering so sweetly against Eddie’s lips as he kissed him, deep and unafraid, uncaring of the bittersweet iron they could both taste when he pricked his greedy tongue on Eddie’s fangs.

It was fucked-up and dirty and so fucking frightening but Eddie couldn’t resist, couldn’t reject the offer when Steve was so ready to give him more than he ever dreamed of.

And it remains a dream, a wonderful fantasy each time it happens. Each time Steve gets this look in his eyes, full of want, full of unhinged desire to be taken apart. To be claimed by his monster, to be fucked and kissed and loved- God, Eddie loves him so much.

He worships him like a king – Eddie’s inferior to no one but Steve – and what he gets in return is more than just a taste of what his new form needs to thrive.

When his humanity takes a backseat while his monster self takes over, and the rioting rush of primal desire is clouding his senses, Steve’s touch is the only thing keeping him grounded. And it’s so much more than just sex. More than just two creatures giving in to their godless impulses to take and be taken.

It’s a beautiful mess very time Eddie leaves a trail of dark red love confessions on Steve’s skin just to kiss them better. And it feels like rebirth every time Steve comes with Eddie’s name on his lips, every time he falls to pieces in Eddie’s arms.

Every time they share each other’s blood and cum and spit, every time they crash and fall, sweat-drenched and breathless, it’s like Eddie is being transformed all over again, bathed in Steve’s light, graced by his lover’s mercy – really letting himself become the monster he is because his boyfriend likes him like that.

His boyfriend Steve, the freak. The one reason for Eddie’s stone-cold heart to keep beating.

Steve Harrington, the monster lover. His beautiful, insatiable boy, always so greedy for more.

“I love you, Steve,” Eddie whispers as he lets his hand glide over naked, burning skin. Careful this time, not to break any more of it.

“Love me, Eddie. Love me ‘til it hurts.”

Oh. But how could he not, when Steve demands it like that?

He’ll never get enough of it.

Because, yeah, being a monster is fun. But being Steve’s monster is everything.

#steddiesongfics #steddiesongficsaugust #writing prompt #steddie #steddie fic #Monster!Eddie Munson #Monster Lover!Steve Harrington

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citrusses · 12 days ago

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10 incredible fics by @oknowkiss 😘🎈

elaine's work was some of the first to grab hold of my arms and drag me headfirst into the full-on drarry hyperfixation. picking only ten fics I'm obsessed with was basically impossible--how dare someone be so talented??? if you've already read all these, go read the ones you haven't!!

9 to 5 (E, 2K)

Draco Malfoy hates Mondays.

e's microfic may is a genre in and of itself.

Hyacinth (M, 7K)

Draco receives a letter. Inside is a note from a lawyer and a single, purple petal, the same color as the hyacinths his mother used to grow. This is what happens after.

this fic broke my heart. it's so beautiful, you have to experience it to understand.

the long ways (M, 10K)

Five times Harry thought he was seeing Draco for the last time, and one time he didn’t. OR: what it’s like to fall in love, slowly and without realizing it, over the course of 20 years.

Falling in love over 20 years! Need I say more????

draco malfoy's substitute murder service (E, 10K)

When Harry joins the Curse Breakers shortly after his twenty-fifth birthday, he’s surprised to find himself assigned to the Department of Creatures, Cryptids, and Associated Calamities. OR: the one where Draco goes goblin mode, and Harry has a thing for monsters.

who else could come up with something this perfect, strange, apt, hilarious and tender?

a licence to kill (M, 11K)

Draco Malfoy has a licence to kill. Unfortunately, it expired last Tuesday. OR: how Draco Malfoy learned to stop worrying and love form AK-86-G

once again, the world-building this author is capable of in a fic of 11K is beyond comprehension.

any day now (E, 16K)

Draco supposes he should be grateful. The rehabilitation centres were the Minister’s idea, or that’s what the Prophet said anyway. Their stated objective is simple: to provide a safe space for low-tier Death Eaters and high-tier sympathisers to reconsider the entirety of their life choices. All guests–because no one is a prisoner here, the literature brags–are to be provided with shelter, food, clothing, and the guided support of a Mind Healer via a programme they call “ideological restructuring,” which is, of course, mandatory.

funny and clever and biting and sharp and a kick to the heart. one of my favorite fics.

Historians (E, 29K)

It’s the Dumbledore’s Army Reunion Holiday, and Harry’s found himself in hot water with his friends once again, after telling them he has a boyfriend he definitely does not have. In an attempt to fix things, he’s made it his colleague on Level Nine, Draco Malfoy’s problem too. Featuring a ski chalet in Switzerland, a pair of bunk beds, and an agreement that should’ve been simple, were it not for all the bloody feelings getting in the way.

I've made it this far into the list without mentioning that elaine writes the. hottest. sex. ever. see: how i raved about this fic when it was still anon.

À Bon Chat (E, 35K)

Draco Malfoy didn’t intend to lead a life of crime after the war. It’s just that being good had turned out so incomprehensibly boring. Now he's thirty-five, a fully redeemed member of society, the darling of the wizarding social pages, and a newly minted consultant for Gawain Robards' Investigative Research division. In his spare time, he enjoys good whisky, casual sex, and moonlighting as an art thief. His biggest score yet is fast approaching and he's got everything planned down to the minute. Everything, that is, until the unexpected appearance of a newly-divorced Harry Potter. Now that Potter's in the picture, Draco's no longer certain if he's the pursuer or the prize.

Cat and mouse Drarry! Art thieves! Such a true delight of a fic.

The Waiting (E, 43K)

It’s been almost ten years since Draco Malfoy disappeared during a routine Curse Breaker training exercise. Harry, his partner in more ways than one, is determined to figure out why. As the past resurfaces and the present fades into confusion, Harry discovers the only thing more unreliable than memory is love.

I can't do justice to this fic with my words (even though I, at one point, tried to). i stayed up all night to read it, crying silently into my pillow. it's an all-time favorite, it is a fandom classic, if you haven't read it i am begging you to (and dm me so we can scream)

The July Tree (E, 51K)

Neither rain, nor snow, nor sleet, nor hail… nor well-meaning friends, nor questionable communication skills, nor seven years of hating each other’s guts can keep Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy from falling in love.

The rec post I wrote for this fic two years ago is as true as it ever was.

#drarry fic recs #oknowkiss my beloved #citrus recs #happy birthday e!!

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solar-wing · 1 year ago

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⚣ Captor & Captive 🦍

Check out Parts One💉 & Two🔥!

⚣🦍 A/N → The final installment! Fair warning. For those who read the original version, this one is going to be completely different. With my updating and revising the previous parts, this is the ending I originally pictured but decided to not go with at first so I hope you all enjoy it. As mentioned in the last part, the full NSFW version will be posted to Patreon. WARNINGS: MALE INTERSEX READER. Canon-Typical Violence. Bondage & Gagging. Manhandling/Rough Treatment. Emotional Feelings. Some Comfort&Fluff Vibes, etc! All NSFW warnings will be on the full version.

⚣🦍 Summary → The moment has arrived. Conner's finally got you where he wants you and is ready to tear you apart from the inside (literally). However, a timely arrival from your friends could offer itself as a last chance to escape his grasp before he is able to claim his prize. Are your teammates up to the challenge though with the Kryptonian's increased strength and full powers?

⚣🦍 Words → 10.2K

REBLOGS and replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ Full Version 🦍

⚣ ENJOY 🦍

Today was really not your day.

How you ended up in this situation? No one knows, but what or who could you have possibly angered to have something like this happen to you? No punishment in the world you imagined could be as bad as that time you got in trouble for acting out in school and they called your dad.

He could be a frightening man when he wanted to be.

But nope, this outweighed that by so much. And the day started out normal as usual.

Well, as normal as possible for a young superhero with pyrokinesis who was part of an elite team of other young superheroes and vigilantes.

Usual shit, you know?

You woke up, got out of bed, and ate breakfast with your dad before running (flying) off to your university. Classes were boring, you and your buddies acted like goofy idiots all day, and you burned a few kids on the ass for being assholes to other students.

At the end of the school day, you made up an excuse of why you couldn’t hang out with your friends before rushing off to the abandoned photo booth/zeta gateway in an alleyway of your city to meet up with your team. The second you got there, Batman called you all into the mission room to give details of Professor Ivo’s newest schemes before sending you all off in the bioship to discover what he was up to.

Arriving at the abandoned warehouse where Ivo was sighted, it wasn’t long before things had gone from calm to chaotic. The dusty and dirty building was filled with a bunch of brand new boxes that contained an army of laughing MONQI robots, Ivo’s annoying little robotic henchmen.

It was a trap, one you realized a little too late when you got nabbed by a couple of the laughing androids. Superboy came to your rescue only for you to realize the set-up was for him when he got injected with a purple serum. After you got your bearings, you managed to trap Ivo and take out the last androids, but Conner was out clean, and you had no idea what they had done to him.

Red Tornado was able to deduce what the mysterious liquid was when Conner woke up after you all returned to Mount Justice and he began acting very aggressive and animalistic towards you. Let’s just say your scent was ‘desirable’ to him, and he was very keen on keeping it and you to him as long as possible along with other things. Details aren’t needed, but from many of his actions, the wind-controlling android figured the Kryptonian was injected with a hormone-boosting solution.

Its intended use was for him to turn into an angry, instinct-driven savage and kill you and your friends. Thankfully, you knocked the vial out of him before it could be fully administered, but his instincts were still amplified. Only instead of a murderous beast, he became the superhero version of a horny and aggressive brute dead set on fucking you stupid.

Thankfully, your friends and mentors intervened and managed to get you away from ‘Caveman Conner,’ as you dubbed this new persona. However, he did not make it easy for them at all as apparently, that serum made him extremely possessive as well, leading to him holding you captive on his shoulder like a potato sack while fighting your friends and mentors like they were world-class villains for attempting to get you away from him.

Whether that was a Conner trait before the injection or one that was created after was something you didn’t think about though, considering he acted nothing like this when he was with M’Gann.

This entire ordeal led you to discover Batman’s apparent insurance policy for the Kryptonian, in case he or Superman were to ever go rogue. It made you wonder if the superhero had backup plans like that for all the other members of the league, your meta and magical teammates, or even you.

As far as you knew, there wasn’t anything that could counter your powers as long as you weren’t extremely cold. And it wasn’t like there was a member in the Justice League who shared similar abilities to you that Batman could test something out on. But, of course, as cruel fate would have it, the Dark Knight did indeed have an insurance policy for you which Conner had discovered and taken advantage of after shutting off the electricity and luring you to the garage hangar when you and he were alone after everyone had left out.

With the power and communications off in the Cave, your powers nullified and the dark-haired boy’s own amped up since he apparently unlocked his full Kryptonian abilities due to the effects of the serum, you were trapped inside, defenseless, and at his mercy.

Not only had he forced you back into the Cave after you almost escaped, but he smashed the panel that controlled the garage hangar door rendering it completely useless before proceeding to handcuff and gag you while giving a pre-show of his intended plans.

Now, you watched in anxious anticipation as the Kryptonian carried you down to the hall to wherever with plans to ruin your body for his own carnal pleasure.

Yep, normal shit.

Okay, you knew where you went wrong now; you got out of bed.

The tight pressure and soreness in your abdomen had become like a throbbing sensation with every step Conner took that would slightly cause a repeating push against your waist from your position on his shoulder. You did your best to keep your body upright to avoid the very familiar feeling of blood rushing to your head and swimming around in your ears, but it seemed Superboy was taking his good ole time and your upper body strength was getting weaker and weaker.

You also tried to keep your mind off the ache and tingles running up and down your arms as they rested against your back with the metal of the cuffs weighing them down. The Kryptonian chuckles at your futile efforts to escape his hold, with your weak squirming and struggling as he continued fondling the soft flesh between your legs with the same hand holding your thighs against his chest.

He loved the sounds of your muffled whines and cries, feeling like the most powerful person in the world as you were virtually helpless and at his mercy. You would not enjoy the boost to his ego that was guaranteed to happen, especially after his little preview of your night in the garage hangar which you prayed to whatever deity watching that the cameras throughout the base were powered down to and didn’t catch any of that on tape.

The last thing you needed was your friends reviewing the footage and seeing you get violently fingered against the wall and splashing a mess all over the floor.

Speaking of which…

WHERE THE HELL WERE THEY?

Kal, M’Gann, and Zatanna had left on a walk around Happy Harbor almost 20 minutes before you decided to pack your things and head out. Your fight with Conner, including his little pleasurable fun with you had to also have been at least 20 minutes itself. So, if you were doing the math right, it’d been almost a little over an hour since they had left. What, did they decide to make a stop in Gotham too?

What the hell were they doing and why weren’t they back yet?!

Who were you even kidding though? Conner virtually made sure there was no way to get back inside the base without him knowing about it. And of course, if they did manage to make it inside, he’d be alerted well in advance and have time to do whatever with you before going to deal with him.

Of course, you could fight or melt your way out, but with this stupid cooling bracelet on your arm, that wasn’t happening either. You were trapped inside Mount Justice and the only way you were leaving was if the Kryptonian allowed you to.

Why was that low-key kind of hot though?

Despite how embarrassing this whole ordeal felt, you couldn’t deny how erotic all of this was. If it wasn’t for the emotional mess this would eventually lead to, you would have played the role of the innocent and helpless virgin, ahem, victim from the beginning, no questions asked.

His possessive attitude, treating you like the most valuable piece of treasure in the world and not wanting anyone else to have it. The aggression and dominance in how he handled not just those who dared try and take you from him, but how he dealt with you and your ‘bratty’ behavior.

What’s that purring sound?

Suddenly, Conner came to a stop. You tried your best to turn and see where you were before everything moved in a fast blur as the dark-haired boy turned to look at the two companions that were following behind.

“Stay.” He commanded in a gruff tone.

Wolf nodded at your captor, before planting himself right next to the door you were facing, Sphere going to the other side of it. The Kryptonian entered the room shortly after.

It was dimly lit by the red emergency lights of the Cave, and as the door shut behind you two, it became even harder to tell where you were. However, when you saw a few piles of clothes, some workout equipment, and a bin of tools in different areas, you quickly found the answer: Conner’s bedroom.

Well, at least he was considerate in choosing a more private place this time to have his way with you.

A part of you was excited at the thought of getting to have sex with your crush. But, the other side where logic and rationality were still speaking kept you apprehensive. When all was said and done and Conner (hopefully) came back to his senses, where would you and him stand?

You didn’t want to risk losing your friendship with the Kryptonian if it turned out he didn’t harbor any romantic feelings for you and this was some sort of anomaly. How could you both even work on the same team together if there was an awkward air between the two of you?

He walked across the room before you felt yourself being nudged up, one of his arms coming up to your back as he gently lifted you off his shoulder and deposited you onto his bed, a slightly relieved feeling running through you from the release of pressure on your abdomen. It was a surprising change of pace from the rough antics you were used to.

Conner brought his face directly above yours, staring into your own pupils with an expression that made you feel as if you were in trouble, which considering the previous events, you probably were.

What you didn’t expect was for his hand to rub down the side of your face in a soft caress, his calloused fingers somehow feeling soft to the touch. His eyes slowly traveled across your face, seemingly taking in every detail they could while you definitely did not snuggle your face into his hand.

You know what, you could have this moment. Just for a little bit.

Your soft whimpers were the only sound that was heard as the Kryptonian stared at your shiny, wet eyes before he leaned back up while his hands moved down to the front of his pants.

This was it.

The moment you fought so hard to avoid had finally come. You couldn’t deny the many parts of you that felt excited, the anticipation at knowing you were about to get something you’ve wanted for so long. Well, a part of something at least.

You could recall times when Conner and M’Gann were still dating and you’d feel jealous at the sight of her lips upon his. The Martian getting to touch and caress the Kryptonian in ways you thought you would never be able to. It was a bittersweet thought.

In the end, you did get to have something she may have never had (at least to your knowledge), but at what cost? When all was said and done, and the serum was fully out of Conner’s system, who said he would still see you the way he does now?

He could end up resenting you for tempting him with your desirable scent. Of course, that would in no way be your fault, but it was still a possibility.

Just as much as it was possible that he actually may feel some sort of feelings for you. It would explain why he was attracted to you out of everyone else, especially M’Gann, and why he’d act so aggressively when anyone else would try to take you away from him.

It was a nice thought, but in your mind, it was highly unlikely.

Just as he was about to unzip his pants, the sound of mechanical whirring and things powering on hit your eardrums. Your sight was blinded for a quick moment by the sudden return of the ceiling lights, illuminating the room where you could spot more details and items you couldn’t before.

‘Someone turned the power back on.”

It would seem Conner had the same realization given the enraged look on his face as he looked around the room. He hopped off the bed, you watching his tensed muscular back as he marched to the door before yanking it open and leaning out. He stood there for a few seconds before turning around, the look in his eyes even more irate as he stomped his way back over to the bed which could mean a lot of things, but more than likely one.

Your friends had returned.

The realization brought immediate relief to your body, but you didn’t have much time to celebrate as the Kryptonian lifted you into his arms in a bridal hold. You fought back as hard as you could with a renewed fight and energy.

Your goal wasn’t necessarily to escape this time (though it was still your end objective), but more so to create as much noise and commotion as possible to alert your friends to your location. And though he’d probably never admit it, the Kryptonian had a much harder time holding you still as he walked you over to his closet which was surprisingly tidy, unlike the rest of his room.

He had to keep your legs still with you kicking wildly while placing you gently on the ground in the closet. When you were fully inside, he gave you a stern look. His way of telling you to be quiet or else.

You had no plans to adhere to that warning. The second he closed the door, you swung your body around as best as you could and started kicking your legs against the door only to almost get singed by the red blast of the Kryptonian’s heat vision.

He was searing the door shut like he did with the garage hangar door to keep you trapped inside, and more importantly, keep anyone but him out.

You’d almost forgotten about his upgrade in power with the serum unlocking his full Kryptonian abilities. Now, not only did he have super strength and invisibility, but he could fly, had full x-ray and heat vision, and inhuman speed.

Your friends had no idea what they were about to walk into. Even though you held your own against Conner for the most part, it was easier to try to escape than fight him head-on, and that was when he just had his normal abilities. It’d be almost suicide to try and fight him if he was fully equipped, which he was in more ways than one…

Hey! No dirty thoughts!

You could hear him zapping his bedroom door closed, creating two fortified barriers in the event someone managed to figure out where you were. Even if you kept kicking and knocking yourself against the wall, all you’d do is manage to hurt yourself.

The only one who’d be able to hear you was Conner with his super-hearing which you’d bet money was enhanced as well from the serum.

Trapped once again and left in darkness, the only hope you now had was that your friends could subdue Superboy long enough for them to find and free you. Potentially, with all four of you, there could be a good chance of taking him down or if need be, calling Batman to find out where his supply of Kryptonite was.

‘C’mon guys, don’t fail me now…”

“Do I even want to know what that mess on the floor is?” Zatanna asked, pointing to the wet ‘spill’ on the floor and pieces of clothing scattered near the wall.

“Probably not. What I want to know is why the door panel was not only smashed to bits but the entire door welded shut and the power shut off.” Kal said while inspecting the crumpled piece of machinery.

“Who do you think could’ve done this?” M’Gann wondered.

“I have my suspicions, but we won’t know until we check the medical wing or at least find Y/N if he’s still here.”

“I’ll go check the mission room and see if the Zeta Tube logs show any transports to his city.” The Martian volunteered.

Kal instructed her to go in stealth, just in case whoever did this was still here and watching them. He and Zatanna started searching the different halls and rooms, hoping to find something, anything that could help them figure out where their friends were and what had happened.

When they reached the medical wing, Kal's suspicions were confirmed the second they spotted the empty medical bed.

“Great, so if this was Superboy’s doing and he still has the serum affecting his mind, there’s no telling where he could be.”

“What if he followed Y/N home? Red Tornado said Conner was focused on…mating with Y/N. If he left before or right as he was waking up, he could’ve followed after him.” Zatanna said, a visible disgust coming over her face at the mention of the mating part.

“Then, why was the door blocked and the power off? He couldn’t use the Zeta Tube if the power was down. And would he even know how? Red Tornado said Conner's mental thinking was reduced to that of a primate. I’m not sure how much they knew about computers and gateway technology back then.”

“Guys!”

The two turned around to see M’Gann flying up to them with a distressed look while holding something in her hand. She was breathing hard while checking her surroundings before she looked at her two teammates and whispered something they couldn’t hear.

“Huh? Say that again.”

She huffed before checking behind herself. When whatever she was checking for was clear, she turned back and leaned closer, this time speaking a little louder but not loud enough for them to understand.

“I’m sorry, we still can’t hear you.”

The Martian girl rolled her eyes before they went wide with realization.

‘CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?!’

Kal and Zatanna covered their ears in shock before giving an annoyed look to the green martian, “Yes, we can hear you, which ow, by the way.” Zatanna retorted.

‘Good. Sorry, and don’t speak out loud! He can probably hear us. Use the mental link.’ She instructed.

‘What are you talking about? Who can hear us?’ The sorceress asked, now also using the mental link as well.

‘Conner! He’s still here, and so is Y/N. When I went to the mission room, I checked the gateway logs and found the last transport going out to Y/N’s home city failed due to a power outage. Plus, his backpack was sitting next to the console.’

Kal and Zatanna's eyes both went wide as they looked at each other with realization.

‘Okay, kind of a smart move on his part. What better way to keep your captive from escaping than to lock them in an indestructible powered-down fortress?’ Zatanna said before something down the hall caught her eyes.

‘Indeed, a bit too smart for my comfort level. But, then why would Y/N seal the doors shut? He’s the only one who could weld it to the wall and floors like that.” Kal pointed out.

‘Guys…’

‘Maybe Y/N managed to escape and melted the doors to keep Conner from escaping.’ M’Gann suggested.

“Um, guys…”

‘Possible, but why was the panel smashed and why didn’t he come to find us?”

‘Guys! All legitimate concerns, I agree. But, we’ve got bigger problems!’ Zatanna shouted over the mind link before pointing towards the entrance to a very shirtless, very pissed-off Kryptonian.

They barely had time to react when Conner charged at them. He swung a punch aiming for Aqualad but only managed to hit the ground before they each ducked out of the way.

‘M’Gann, try and establish contact with Y/N now!’ Kal commanded while pulling out his water bearers to create twin swords.

‘Y/N? Can you hear me? Y/N, this is M’Gann!’

Not even a second later, they heard your voice screaming into the link, ‘CONNER HAS HIS FULL KRYPTONIAN POWERS!’

It prompted them to look up just in time to see Conner shooting his heat vision at them. Zatanna muttered a defensive spell that blocked the crimson beams from hitting Kaldur just in time while they turned and decided to run back towards the garage hangar.

‘Thanks for the warning,’ Zatanna said in the link.

‘No problem. Conner locked me in the closet in his bedroom and he used his heat vision to sear both the doors shut.’

‘That won’t be an issue for me. I can use the teleportation spell I used to get us inside.’

‘Alright then. Zatanna, you go and free Y/N. M’Gann and I will do our best to hold Conner off as long as we can.’ Kal said just as they reached the hangar. They heard a shattering sound and an angry scream, meaning Conner broke through the shield. Zatanna muttered a spell before she blinked out of sight with a small shimmer of light.

Just as she disappeared, Conner came flying around the corner looking more angry than before. Things were about to get serious.

The sorcerer appeared right in the middle of Conner’s bedroom, taking a moment to collect herself before she looked around the messy room.

“Ugh, boys…” She muttered before rushing toward the closet. “Y/N, are you in there?” She asked.

All she heard was muffled sounds and screams in response. She uttered another spell that would force the doors to fling open while hearing your warning screams in her head all too late before she got the shock of her life.

“OH MY GOD!” She screamed, before covering her eyes at the sight of your bound naked body.

The embarrassment you felt right now definitely exceeded what you felt earlier when your friends had to first rescue you from the Kryptonian. In your defense, you tried to warn her before she opened the door, but the girl didn’t listen.

You could hear her uttering another spell under her head before a new tank top and pair of shorts appeared on your body. When the dark-haired girl confirmed you were indeed clothed, she knelt down to untie the gag off your mouth.

“Not one word of this to the others,” You said the second you could spit the torn piece of your old shirt out.

“Agreed.”

Zatanna helped you out of the handcuffs before helping you to your feet. It took you a minute to get your balance back since you hadn’t been on your feet for a while with Conner always choosing to carry you every fucking where on his shoulder.

“What took you all so long?! Conner freaking shut off the power and trapped me in here, and then basically molested me in the garage hangar. He was just about to get his grand prize before you guys showed up. My therapist is gonna be banking off this for the next year.” You all but shouted while trying to get the cooling bracelet off your wrist.

“Okay first off, TMI. Second off, we would’ve been back a half-hour ago but we were stuck outside trying to figure out why the door wouldn’t open. Now, we know why. Speaking of which, why didn’t you just blast him or fly away and come get us?”

“Oh, you don’t think I freaking tried that?! Conner waited to surprise me with his new powers just as I got out and then as a bonus, decided to slap one of Batman’s insurance policies on me. This freaking cooling bracelet is blocking my powers, and I don’t know how to get it off!” You groaned while trying to pry the thing open.

“Ugh, hold still,” Zatanna said while grabbing your wrist.

You heard her speaking backward again before you saw the blue light on the bracelet suddenly turn green before it snapped open, falling to the ground. Just as earlier when Conner first put it on and you felt a rush of cold air, the second it was off, a familiar heat spread over your body as you conjured two fireballs in your hands.

“Have I mentioned how much I appreciate you?”

“No. But, if you order me my favorite takeout for dinner, I’ll consider it all forgiven.”

“Deal.”

Just as you both began to make your way to the door, you could hear M’Gann calling out to you on the link.

‘M’Gann, what’s wrong? I just got Y/N and we’re about to be on our way back.’

‘Don’t. Conner’s on his way to you now. Get to the mission room and use the Zeta Tube to get out of here. Kaldur took some hard hits. He wasn’t as harsh on me as he was on him, but I think he figured out our plan.’

As soon as she said that, the door was blasted off its hinges as the Kryptonian made his way through. When he saw you weren’t in the closet anymore (pun not intended) and that you were free of your cuffs, you immediately knew you were in for it by the vicious snarl he let out.

Thankfully, you had no plans of letting that happen.

He pointed his finger at you before pointing at the ground in front of him, reminding you of earlier when you first broke out of his hold. When this entire mess began…

You moved Zatanna behind you while staring at the Kryptonian in his blue eyes, formulating a plan in your head.

‘Zatanna, when I give the signal. Teleport us to the mission room.’ You instructed.

‘What about Kal?’

‘M’Gann will take care of him, I’m sure. But Conner won’t even waste his time on him. He’ll be too focused on chasing after me.’

‘Alright.’

Just like earlier, Conner could somehow tell you were up to something. You were counting on the hopeful fact he hadn’t noticed you were free of the cooling bracelet, which was met with joyous truth as he reacted too slowly to you blasting your own heat vision right into his eyes as you did earlier.

He shouted in pain while you yelled “NOW” to Zatanna who immediately grabbed your hand while uttering the spell. However, he recovered faster this time than before and immediately tried to charge at you in hopes of snatching you back before you could get away, but was too late as you both blinked away, popping into the mission room in a flash of light.

“Nice one,” You said while immediately running for the console and punching in the coordinates for your city.

Just as you finished typing, you heard an animalistic growl from behind you, turning to see a flash of white fur before you were suddenly knocked to the ground. A pair of snarling teeth were in your face as you felt Wolf’s paws on your body while Sphere held back Zatanna from trying to help you.

“Ugh, I forgot about you two.” You groaned.

He must have sent them here to hold you off, probably knowing if you managed to get free, you’d try to transport your way out of here since the garage hangar was blocked.

Out of patience at this point, you mentally apologized to the canine before letting your body be consumed in flames to force him off your chest. Yet again though, as the day was proving over and over, you couldn’t catch a fucking break.

The moment you were off the ground, Conner rushed in and immediately charged for you. One second, you were standing free and ready to make a break for the teleporter, the next you found yourself slammed against the wall with him gripping both your arms while he pressed himself against you to prevent you from moving.

A familiar rush of cold air spread over you, the Kryptonian not wasting any time slamming your good ole wrist jewelry back on.

“Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” You snapped while Conner had his arrogant smirk before tossing you back over his shoulder, not bothering to cuff your hands while making his way to the Zeta Tube.

“Zatanna, a little help!”

“I’d love to, but I’m kind of busy not becoming a bowling pin right now!”

You didn’t have time to throw back a witty remark before you felt yourself lifted and tossed into the open portal. The familiar tingle you always got when using the Zeta passageways came over but was stronger this time. Probably because your body was colder than its normal temp from the cooling bracelet, so it had more of an effect on you.

When the flash of light passed through your eyes, you found yourself inside the photo booth in the alleyway of your city. Knowing Conner would be right behind you, you figured one last-ditch attempt wouldn’t be too worthless. Maybe you could find a place to hide or catch someone’s attention to give you a hand.

Yeah, of course. Just grab the next random person’s attention and let them know a super-powered caveman Kryptonian is after your sweet little hole, and you need help escaping in their Toyota Prius or Nissan Altima even though he can move faster than the car.

Real smart idea.

Well, actually the Altima may not be a bad thought. Those fuckers never obey the speed limit.

The moment you exited the photo booth, it lit up again with your captor promptly exiting and smashing the booth to pieces, preventing your friends from being able to follow behind.

Because why fucking not?

You barely had a chance to turn around and run before he had you back in his grip, his smug look returning to your sight before you were lifted into a bridal hold with him taking off in the air.

‘Oh, god, I’m so fucked…’

The sound of waves crashing against land was the first thing you recognized when Conner finally landed somewhere. A salty sea smell assaulted your nostrils as you looked up and took in the deserted beach. The city lights in the distance added some illumination on the dark shore as well as the shine from the moon in the clear sky.

You could remember countless times when you’d come out here at night whether with friends or just yourself to fool around or listen to the sounds of the waves. It helped you relax, helped you think. It was where you made some of your biggest revelations and decisions, like when you first discovered your powers.

Ironic a person with pyrokinesis first thought was to run to a place filled with water. Actually, maybe it was kind of smart. If something went wrong, like you accidentally set yourself on fire, you had a quick way to put it out.

There were a lot of great memories with this place. It was comforting. It was peaceful…

He brought you up to a lone standing tree before setting your on your feet positioning you between it and him leaving you no place to move. He held your waist tight in his hands while pressing himself against you, staring down deeply into your eyes.

The shadow around his face made his strong chin and jaw look more prominent, but more than ever, his blue eyes seemed to shine brighter than the ocean right behind you two as he stared down at you with an adoring gaze.

Wait, adoring?

“Co-Conner? Is that you? Like, actually you in there?”

He stared at you quietly, his usual frown in place which only made you more nervous until the corners of his lips turned up into an all-familiar cocky grin, immediately putting you on high alert.

“Well, depends on your definition of ‘actually me’, but if you mean am I back to a regular state of mind, then yeah, seems so.” He responded.

Pardon?

“I- uh, I’m sorry, huh?” You stammered, words slowly escaping your mind.

“Think I can get a couple rounds in before the others show up?” He asked while taking a hand and palming around your stomach.

Bitch, what?

“Hold the fuck up!” You exclaimed, your hands fully planted on his chest as stared down at you with an amused raised eyebrow. “The hell you mean was that enough?! Were you actually conscious of everything this entire time?”

You may have sometimes been a little naive, a bit clumsy, and you often ran your mouth before you thought about what you were saying, but you were no fool. Boo-Boo was nowhere on your birth certificate last time you checked.

So, when Conner’s lack of confusion and surprise at the current ‘circumstance’ you were in failed to show, assumptions were made on your end. And they were not good, not in the slightest.

“Conner whatever your fucking middle name is Kent, I swear to whatever deity is listening to me right now, if you don’t explain what the fuck is going on right now, this whole beach is going to turn to glass in the next 10 seconds. Because if you’ve been playing games this entire time, pretending you were in some primal state of mind just to make a fool out of me, you’re going to realize that Batman is not the only one who has different ways of kicking your ass. And I promise you, that if-”

Your rant ended in a sudden ‘mmph’ sound when he pulled you into a sudden kiss. Out of all the times the hero managed to shock you into silence, this has to be one of the most surprising and satisfying ones.

There was a latent level of shock in your body, your wide eyes reflecting this, but the soft feel of his lips had them closing and you giving in to him within seconds. Despite his initial rough approach, there was a tenderness in the way he kissed you.

Before you even knew it, your lips were dancing right along with his. There was passion and longing in that kiss, leaving you more confused than 10 seconds prior.

The way he held and treated you was definitely different. The possessive grip he had around you didn’t falter at all. But, there was a newfound gentleness in his touch, like you were a prize to be cared for. Even if that was what you technically were earlier when he was in his conquest mode, this was not the same as that.

In those moments earlier, you were the kind of prize meant to be conquered. Here in this moment, you were rather something treasured.

Before long, your human lungs started giving you their red alert. Conner broke away the kiss not a moment later as if he already knew before you did. Your lips chased after his though, and he chuckled at your reaction before lifting a finger to your chin to tilt your head up toward him.

“Does that explain enough for you, or do you need a little bit more demonstration?”

Despite the blush written clear across your cheeks, there was a small smile appearing on your lips, as you took a few seconds to process what was going through your head and heart.

Satisfaction, physically speaking.

Nerves and adrenaline.

Ultra flamboyant giddiness.

Completely normal.

Yet, that nagging little voice in the back of your mind got louder with every fluttering heartbeat that pumped blood and butterflies throughout your veins.

What did this all mean?

“Hey,” You heard the Kryptonian speak, noticing the concerned look on his face, “What’s wrong? Did I do something?” There was a nervous tone in his words, almost vulnerable if you were listening hard enough which would be very different compared to the stark, smug confidence he showed you whenever he managed to toss you on his shoulder or dig himself inside your guts. Even before this serum fiasco, he may have been standoffish at moments and quiet, but rarely had you ever heard him talk like he was afraid of being hurt.

You felt for him in that moment, you really did, but you were also at risk of being hurt. And, rather than sit there and pretend like everything was clear and simple, you had questions that needed answering. For your own sake, and quite frankly, your own sanity.

“Conner, I-” The words seem to get stuck in your throat, with you trying to find the right thing to say, but what that exactly was couldn’t form a clear sentence in your mind. So, out of options, you just babbled.

“I don’t know what the heck is going on right now, and truthfully, I rarely ever do know what’s going on. Uh, wait, what was I saying? Oh right! This morning, we were friends, nothing more, then the warehouse happened, and started acting like a caveman and treated me like your prey or prize or whatever, not like it wasn’t super hot, because it definitely was and I shouldn’t have said that. Either way, you’re confused! No, wait, that came out wrong. I meant you’re confusing and I’m confused. Either way–

“Y/N!”

Conner shouting your name with a slight squeeze to your ass was an effiective way of shutting you up. Rude and hot, but effective nonetheless.

“I know. I was aware of everything going on.”

Now, that had you wordless.

“Well, actually, not everything. And I wasn’t in control of my actions at all. Well, not completely. Okay, now I’m confused.”

“You and me both.” You muttered under your breath. He responded with a light growl and a pinch to your ass.

“I’ll spank you.”

“Like you haven’t already done worse.” You said back with a challenging tone.

A stubborn grunt was let off before he gave you another small thrust as punishment for your smart quip, pulling a light whine from you. You could feel his cum dripping out of you slowly since his dick kept you plugged and everything inside, which you had a slight feeling he was doing on purpose.

“Alright, before any more smutty shenanigans ensue, can we talk about what exactly this is, and more importantly, why this even happened in the first place.”

Conner let out a sigh, looking down at you through his eyelashes before leaning down and giving your neck and shoulder light kisses. The giddy feeling in your stomach almost managed to cloud your rationality, almost being the keyword.

“Hey, don’t try to distract me.” You chastised him with a slight slap against his naked arm.

“I’m not distracting, I’m just enjoying the moment.” He said while giving you a few more light kisses.

Eventually, he moved you both over to the sand, setting you both down a little bit closer to the water while sitting you in his lap. However, you suddenly found yourself missing the warm contact of his skin pressing against yours.

When he finally had you both in comfortable positions, you resting against his chest and him nuzzling your hair, the intense beating in your heart that you had become used to from the day’s excitement had gradually started to slow down. You felt yourself nuzzling into his embrace more than you would admit out loud, but the man was comfortable.

After a few beats of silence, you heard Conner clear his throat. Though you didn’t want to move from the warm spot, you’d rather look the Kryptonian in the eyes as he explained himself. For your own sake.

“I was aware of what I was doing,” He started, which had your chest tightening and a sullen look appearing on your face which he noticed, “Only after you guys subdued me the first time, and like I said earlier, I still wasn’t in full control of myself.”

You could feel the confusion start to return to your mind, but rather than start rambling again, you just nodded to him to signal you were listening and let him continue.

“When I first woke up from the serum, Tornado was right. I was completely out of my mind and acting on pure animalistic instinct. All my senses were amplified even more than they usually are with my powers and all. So the onslaught of different smells and scents triggered me and I was about two seconds away from trying to kill you all, then I caught your scent out of everyone else’s, and the next thing I knew, you were all I could think about.”

Huh, nice to know you were what was stopping the team’s arguably most powerful member from murdering you all by just smelling good. Something you never thought you’d be thinking in your life, but there was a first for everything as they say.

“It started as a general curiosity, since at the moment, all my mind could think prior was anger and murder. But, of course, curiosity turned to excitement, and let’s just say I suddenly only had one goal in mind.”

“Doing me in front of friends?”

“I’d rather call it ‘mounting my claim.’ You know, animal terms and all that stuff.”

You rolled your eyes at his corny joke, before going silent again to let him continue.

“But, yes, for a lack of better words, all I could think about was shoving my dick inside you. You just smelled so good in that moment, you always have, but, the serum just suddenly made your scent feel almost irresistible to me, and all I could think of was capturing you in my arms and not letting anyone take you from me. Granted, I might have gone a bit far.”

“A bit? You call slinging me over your shoulder for half an hour while you leap, run, and fight our friends going just a bit far? Not to mention you choke-slamming Wally against the wall and damn near strangling him.

“Okay, one, you enjoyed that. I have the dried evidence on the shoulder of my shirt to prove it, spanking and all so don’t try and deny it.”

He got you there. Blushing cheeks (face and ass) and all.

“Second, I told you. Animal state of mind. In my head, I claimed you as my mine, and everyone else was a threat to that. What animal have you ever seen not defend their territory?” He asked, which you had to admit, he got you there as well.

Also, why was that kind of hot?

“You know I can still smell your arousal right? And the fact that you are in my pants and covered in my scent is not helping.” He said, to which you noticed the familiar feel of his throbbing organ below you wanting more action.

“Mind your business.”

“You’re currently sitting on my lap half naked while wearing my pants and covered in my sweat and cum. I think it’s safe to say you are my business at the moment.” He responded while tightening his hold around you.

Seriously, where did he get this smart (and hot) mouth from? That serum had to have more side effects than noted. But, you weren’t easily defeated in the sass factor. Conner may have you beat when it comes to raw strength and physical force, but wordplay? That was your forté.

“And who’s exact fault is it, that I’m even in this position?”

“Dr. Ivo.”

“Okay, well, after him.”

“Batman and Red Tornado for not making sure I was properly secured before leaving.”

“Okay! After them!”

“The others for not showing you the backdoor out of the Cave.”

“There’s a backdoor?!”

“Yeah, you didn’t know? M’Gann showed it to everyone on their first tour of the base. The garage hangar is considered the front door, and there’s a back door just in case. You didn’t think we’d only rely on the vehicle hangar or the Zeta Gateway if we had to make a fast escape did you?”

“I- … No comment.” You sighed in defeat, Conner chuckling at your tone while rubbing your back. You’d be having a word with your friends later when you got back to the Cave. Many words…

“It’s okay, I really didn’t give you many options either way. And even if you did manage to make it out the back, I would’ve just followed right behind as you already know.” The Kryptonian reassured you, which reminded you about the nagging question in the back of your mind.

“So, on that note, I’m assuming when you said you were aware of your actions, it was then?”

It was his turn to sigh after you asked your question, immediately knowing where this was heading.

“Yes. After Batman knocked me out with the Kryptonite, the serum lost some of its effect on me, but not as much as Red Tornado predicted. Kryptonite doesn’t just weaken my abilities, it affects everything in me, including my immune system. By the time I woke up, I was still very much under its influence, but I was slightly back to myself and could think and focus on more things other than sex and fighting.”

It made sense. You remembered the moment during your fight with Conner in the vehicle hangar when you realized how convenient and well-planned everything seemed. It was truly when your doubts and insecurities about everything started taking root, thinking all of it was just some game with you in the end being the actual loser.

Now, the time to find out if you lost was here, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to know.

Some would think that paying attention to Conner’s actions and words before this, would negate some of those concerns in your head, but, as life has proven many times in the past, things aren’t always as they seem.

But, that doesn’t mean it’s always in a bad way though…

“So, you were awake then, huh? When Wally and I were talking in the medical hangar…”

He looked down at you at that moment, his eyes softening as if he could sense the growing mental and emotional turmoil in your head and chest. You wanted to focus on his words, and his words only, but it was hard with the way you could feel him pulling you in closer, doing his best to comfort you as much as possible.

It was the fact that you couldn’t tell if it was for making you feel better in the moment to alleviate your worries or cushion the eventual blow that you were expecting to come soon.

“Yes, I was. I was actually up that entire time. The Kryptonite did weaken me enough to where I couldn’t react or respond like I would’ve if I could, but I wasn’t asleep or unconscious. Truthfully, after Batman and Tornado had left and it was just you and him in the room, I was planning to just surprise you both right there. Incapicate Wally in any way I could, grab you, and run for one of the exits.”

“What stopped you?”

All day, you’d been subjected to prideful smirks, arrogant grins, and cocky looks from the Kryptonian. An annoying, but definitely attractive sub-trait of his overwhelming confidence and stalwart courage. So, seeing his blushing cheeks and undeniable shy look on his face had you sitting up very suddenly.

Conner didn’t like it since it meant you could see his face more clearly, and unbeknownst to you, you were further away from him, and he liked the feeling of you cuddling against his body.

“Why are you blushing?” You asked, not letting him pull you back in his arms like he tried. It helped you were sitting on his still very erect penis at a slightly awkward angle which limited his movements. One wrong move, and he’d be in a very uncomfortable position.

“Would you stop it?” He pleaded, clearly already uncomfortable with the metamorphic spotlight that had been placed on him.

“Answer the question, and I will.”

“I thought actions spoke louder than words.”

“And suddenly, I can’t hear. Answer.”

“How will you hear the words?”

“I’ll read your lips. Answer the damn question.”

You were staring into his blue eyes by this point, fully waiting for your answer. The Kryptonian looked right back into your own before his hands grabbed the sides of your head, pulling you into another smashing kiss like the one against the tree earlier.

This was similar but still very different from the previous one. He wasn’t trying to shut you up (considering you weren’t even talking), but merely trying to communicate the words he couldn’t bring himself to say. Ironic how he has no trouble expressing how he feels in any other scenario whether it’s his anger about a mission or irritation with an order from Batman or your comrades, but this has him fumbling.

Yet, you were not complaining about how you moved your lips against his, bringing your hands around his neck. You could almost physically feel everything he was pouring into the kiss, and it was mind-numbing, to say the least.

Once again, your human lungs reminded you of their need for oxygen. Thankfully, Conner did the work for you and pulled away from your lips with you chasing after them. He placed another light kiss on them though, while opening his eyes to your closed ones, enjoying the pleasant view in front of him.

When you opened yours back up to him, he smiled at you, placing another peck on your lips while finally scooting you back closer to him, and re-adjusting himself into a more comfortable position.

“Does that answer your question?” He asked. Though there was no trace of sarcasm in his tone, you could still spy it in his face with the humorous glint in his eye.

“Maybe. I might need another one though just to be sure. I always like to double-check my answers.” You responded with your own smile.

He laughed at you before feeling himself nuzzling his face into your neck, taking in your scent which you now could admit was actually very comforting. Still weird, but you’d grown used to it by this point.

Your doubts had been quieted, and you felt you could trust his words without second-guessing or overthinking, something that was not an easy feat to do. That’s why when a few moments of silence passed, you decided to ask one of the other questions that had been nagging in the back of your mind.

“How long?”

“Since you joined the team. I was never good with my feelings, let alone expressing or even understanding them. It took some time for me to figure out what they were, and when I did, I was nervous and scared that you didn’t feel the same about me. I knew you liked guys, but I didn’t know if you liked me. And, even if you did, I didn’t know if you would like me for… well, me. So, I stayed quiet.” He admitted, immediately knowing what you were asking.

Thinking about it from his perspective, you could see his reasoning and why he chose to hide his feelings. If you were in his shoes, you’d probably do the same. However, it was clear neither of you was good at picking up signs considering he missed all the ones that showed you were into him. Not that you were trying to, but there were moments where it was plainly obvious, enough for Wally to pick up on them which led to him finding out.

Idiots in love, the both of you.

“When I heard you and Wally talking in the medical wing, and his little teases and performance, it was all the confirmation I needed. If it wasn’t for that, like I said, I probably would’ve just waited for the right moment to snatch you away from the others and find a way out of the Cave without alerting them. But, after hearing that conversation, I figured why not make it a little bit more challenging and fun. Didn’t expect you to put up as much of a fight though. Glad I had insurance.” He explained, his typical smirk returning to his face while he marveled at the accessory on your wrist.

Hold it.

“Back up. You mean to tell me you trapping me in the Cave, fingering me in the vehicle hangar, and locking me in your closet was all for fun and a challenge? I’m nervous to ask what your ideal idea is for a first date.” You stated. He gave you an unimpressed look while nudging his still-hard member against you.

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy any of it. Remember, I could hear, taste, and smell your arousal through everything.” He teased while nipping at your ear.

You ignored the horny pang in your stomach from that while pretending to be annoyed, “Whatever. Well, I hope you weren;t planning to try and do me raw. Last thing I need is to end up pregnant.”

“What if I want a kid? No better way to trap you with me than with a baby.” Conner mumbled while still giving you soft kisses behind your ear and neck.

“Then you can explain to my dad what happened if I end up knocked up. And I gotta warn ya, Kryptonian powers or not, that man is scary.” You chuckled, turning your head to look at the superhero, who would never admit that slight nervous look in his eyes at the mention of your father.

A slight laugh bubbled up your chest before you turned looking out to the sea. The feel of the cold piece of metal on your wrist became prominent and the silence and you looked down at the device, still slightly shuddering from the chill running through your body.

“How did you even know about this thing in the first place?” You asked, pointing to the cooling device on your wrist.

“Dick let me in on a few little secrets about the Bat, though he never did tell me where he keeps getting and storing all that freaking kryptonite. Anyway, when I heard you and Wally talking about Batman’s insurance plans, I figured if he had one for me, then he had to have one for every meta on the team and in the league. While you and the others were in the lounge room hanging out, I went searching through the libraries and rooms and found some of Batman’s secret compartments.” He explained.

You raised an eyebrow at that. “Hmm, so is that when you discovered your unlocked abilities?”

“Actually, no. Right when you managed to make it out of the door, I originally was just going to do the same as I did before and well… leap after you. Even if you got away, I could track you down since your scent is alluring, but definitely not subtle. Fire powers and all,” He said with a smug little chuckle.

“Yeah yeah yeah, I get it. Heat makes smell more noticeable. Gosh, you and Wally sure love harping down that tree.” You retorted with an actual annoyed eye roll this time.

“Hey, I said you still smell good. Either way, when I jumped after you I noticed instead of falling back down to the ground, I was still in the air flying. It didn’t take much for me to realize what was going on and I just flew into action, literally.”

“So the whole welding the door shut and almost barbecuing our friends?”

“Yeah, I might have overdone it on that one, but animal instincts were still in control. There was only so much I could do to hold myself back. Every time you fought against me or got away or the others intervened was another boost to my aggression and anger, prompting my hasty reactions. And it wasn’t just my instincts fueling all this. Like I said, there was a reason your scent stuck out to me the most. Your conversation with Wally just confirmed it was returned and it made me a bit more crazy to an extent.”

“To an extent is a stretch,” You muttered under your breath. Conner let out an annoyed grunt while giving you another playful nip on your ear.

“Super hearing, remember?”

You were fully aware of his ability, but, for his sake, you played along.

“Right, sorry.” He gave a kiss to your neck as a way of saying he accepted the apology. With a little time to process everything, you felt most of your questions answered. However, there was one that was remaining at the back of your mind. Probably the most pressing one to be honest.

“So, is that why you and M’Gann…”

“We broke up because I realized that there wasn’t any real spark between me and her. What started between us was curiosity, considering I didn’t know what romance and feelings and everything else was. I just went with what I saw and observed. Sometimes it was nice, many times it was confusing, and many times, it felt wrong. So, I broke up with her. She was upset about it a little and figured it had something to do with you. She was always suspicious, but never had confirmation until this happened.”

Conner pointed his fingers between the two of you, and the reminder of your earlier indecent actions had you blushing and smiling all over again. You had to admit, it was a nice feeling knowing that most of your doubtful and questioning thoughts were for nothing.

Well, it’s better to be cautious than to fall in blindly and get hurt. But, the satisfaction and happiness you felt in your chest bloomed over all of those past feelings.

Thinking about the day's events and how everything ended up happening, you had to say you were fine with how it all played out. However, you definitely would admit you imagined you and Conner getting together in an entirely different scenario.

Saving each other on a mission, getting into an argument and blurting things out, or even just the cutesy little moments where your friends stick their noses in and try to get you together were all ideas that came to mind. This scenario however with you sitting on the beach after he acted like a caveman and chose you as his new mate was not in the tarot cards for this category.

Though, the end result had you more than satisfied; both physically, mentally, and emotionally.

If there was anything to learn from this, you should listen to your instincts more, no matter how primal they are.

“So, are you going to take this off anytime soon?” You asked, once again pointing at the wrist jewelry you were currently wearing.

Conner smiled down at the item and you mischievously before running one of his hands over the device.

“Are you going to try and fight me again? I kind of like you being defenseless and helpless.” He joked though a part of you knew he was also partly serious.

Though, now, considering all that was said and done, it was your turn to have some fun.

“Well, considering you had to take away my powers to be able to catch me, I’d say your victory wasn’t really much of a victory at all.” You taunted while tracing a finger over his chest.

You could feel the vibration from his irritated growl under your fingertips, letting you know you hit the right button. Caveman or not, Conner both loved and hated being challenged.

“I mean, to me, it says that even with your full Kryptonian powers, you needed some cheap little trinket to be able to actually subdue me. Guess I’m just that tough of a prey to catch.” You continued your teasing, sneakily taking glances up at the Kryptonian, catching his hard and lustful stares at you.

“Is that so?” He gruffly spoke into your ear.

“It would seem so, at least to me, and anyone else watching. Don’t think you can say you claimed me if you couldn’t manage to beat me fair and square. But, it’s okay, I get it. Maybe you’re not up to the challenge. Maybe someone else will come along and prove their merit without needing to cheat.”

You barely finished the sentence before the sound of the clamp opening hit your ears. That familiar rush of warmth came over you again as your fire returned to your body. While you were distracted, Conner ripped the shorts off and his pants off of him before standing you both up, now fully naked to the world, minus your shirt.

“I dare you to say that again.”

You were really in for it now.

☀️ | Conner Kent/Superboy | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

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gingermintpepper · 1 month ago

Text

Day 4: Aristaeus

Interpretation notes and trivia below the cut!!

All rise for the entrance of my president !! Honestly, of all the figures and characters that were up for debate when I first started thinking about this story and who I wanted leading the charge Aristaeus was not one of them. Originally, I'd always known that Asclepius and Orpheus would be worked in somehow - they've always been favourites of mine in terms of children of Apollo (even if Orpheus as the child of Apollo and Calliope is less popular classically) and I expected my pick for the third child of Apollo to be involved to be similarly mortal like Iamus or Tenes but the more I looked into Aristaeus the more I fell in love with him! Ultimately, he's meant to be both a foil and a reflection of his father - a boy who grows up thinking his father's footsteps would always be warm only to realise that following in them would lead to death and destruction. While his status as a rustic and hunting god is still important here, Aristaeus' interpretation is much more focused on his connection to the Etesian wind and his quelling of the dog star Sirius which is why his hair in particular is so long and spiralling. All in all, more than any other figure I've chosen to interpret and represent in my work Aristaeus is the god I hope more people get interested in and research! I think there are a lot of important stories in his various myths and travels and I definitely want more people to discover and fall in love with them as I have!

Some fun trivia:

Apollo's firstborn son. Because he was born mortal on account of his very mortal mother, Apollo immediately took him to Olympus to eat ambrosia to begin his transition into divinity. Apollo would continue to feed Aristaeus small amounts of ambrosia and nectar for the next ten years until the child fully shed his mortal skin and was reborn as a god.

Due to the nature of making mortals deathless (namely the fun part of the process where they are completely remade and lose their mortal memories) Aristaeus spent most of his early life with his mother and siblings where they all pitched in to reteach him his family, his hobbies, his favourite things and ultimately how to live and love. Aristaeus was very attached to his maternal family because of this and his early acts of ingenuity were mostly born from his wish to make things easier for his family.

Aristaeus is the only one of his children Apollo hand raised full time. In those days, Aristaeus adored his father and believed him completely upright and blameless, the true face of a benevolent deity and the kind of man he aimed to be when he was full grown.

They would later have many bitter arguments and conflicts, the first and perhaps most impactful of all being their disagreement over Actaeon, Aristaeus' firstborn son. He wanted Apollo to teach him stating that it was a normal thing for a grandfather to do but Apollo vehemently refused to have any part of Actaeon's rearing, stating that he was not his child and that it was highly inappropriate for him to educate another god's son. When Actaeon later dies, Aristaeus blames a not insignificant part of that on Apollo - something that only worsens when he learns that it was Artemis who cursed the boy and that Apollo was always aware Actaeon would die young.

Spends most of his time travelling from place to place. Doesn't really like Olympus and prefers to spend his time minding animals or tending to fields. Is on wonderful terms with Demeter and Persephone and often makes decadent exchanges of olive oil and preserved meat for exotic flowers and fruit for his bees.

Big fan of wind and percussive instruments. Never liked the kithara because of how finicky it is and far prefers the hand drums and reed flutes of his mother's country. Exceptional dancer.

Will sell prized cattle for high quality and highly unique jewellry. Doesn't much care for gemstones but is an absolute gold fiend and has a massive collection of bracelets, anklets, nose and lip adornments and rings. Has never been north enough to hit India but got a ton of rare and different adornments from his Phoenician in-laws when he was married to Autonoë.

Hates dogs but doesn't mind wolves. Not a big horse fan either

Unlike other winds, he cannot transform into various animal forms. He's close enough to the Anemoi that he keeps up with the gossip but he's only really friends with Notos. Gets along poorly with Zephyrus whose preference for pretty youths has often led to them getting into physical altercations when they were younger. Aristaeus still holds a bit of a grudge about it.

Has a big stupid crush on Dionysus which is embarrassing because Dionysus also put him out of a job. Due to Dionysus' relative youth, he feels a bit conflicted about such feelings - mostly because Dionysus is on extremely good terms with Apollo and Aristaeus doesn't want him to get burned.

Despite kinda despising his father, Aristaeus is a pretty decent eldest brother and regularly keeps in contact with a lot of his siblings. He often delivers mead, flavoured honey and olive oil and uses it as an excuse to chat and catch up. Currently in a bit of a tiff with Asclepius because he's worried about him and his family.

Favourite colour is the rich gold of purified honey, favourite food is lokma and his favourite time of year is winter.

#ginger draws #pursuing daybreak posting #words cannot describe how much I love this man actually #other things Apollo has done that completely ruined his relationship with his firstborn include but are not limited to:#protecting and defending Aristaeus but letting Idmon die #giving Orpheus hope that he could recover Eurydice and not apologising for making Aristaeus immortal then raising him mortal #knowing how painful it would be to watch his siblings die #he firmly believes that Apollo knows a little bit of everything and could avert so much more pain if he just #warned people better #In a lot of ways Aristaeus still idolises his father - it's just that now he thinks of him as unfair and cruel instead of perfect #Apollo is content to let things be he's there when Aristaeus needs him but he won't force him to be around him #Aristaeus' intense reaction is why he started being more distant about raising his kiddos too btw #He can never detach himself emotionally but he tries not to be too permanent a fixture in their lives so they can learn about him #naturally from other people instead of growing up thinking of him as infallible or someone who would do things in their best interest #Apollo's beholden to Fate first and foremost - even his children can't change that #aristaeus #october art challenge #greek myths

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the-karma-cafe · 7 months ago

Note

Medium honor Arthur picks up character but it’s for a crime she didn’t do! Oh and outdoorsy love stuff

a/n: omg ok i dont know what you mean by outdoorsy love stuff is that SEX or is that FLUFF (im giving you both) thank you for the request !!

warnings: DID NOT PROOFREAD, sex (hell no !!!), spanking, he's a little mean but not really (as medium honor usually goes), mildly dubious consent

Warm | Arthur Morgan

It was the age-old story of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. When I discovered Mrs. Braithwaite on the floor一thick, wine-red blood pooled beneath her chest一I’d barely had a second to react before one of her sons screamed, tackling me to the ground. His fingers were bruising against my arms, shaking me, asking what the fuck was the matter with me, telling me I’d fucking swing for this.

I don’t even remember how I got away from him, slamming something into his skull and breaking free from that iron grip, leaping off the balcony without a second thought.

It was only miles away on one of their prized horses did it finally hit me that whatever case I’d had to defend myself with was long gone. I wouldn’t be able to show my face in Rhodes again一or really anywhere else一with a high-profile family like the Braithwaites on my ass.

I kept riding further north, hoping to put as much distance between me and that damn corpse as possible. Of all the people, it had to be her, and it had to be me.

By the time I reached Valentine, I’d felt more sorry for myself than I had in a long time. Thanked my lucky stars I always kept my money on me and bought some supplies there to… well, live on the lam, I supposed.

But for the first couple nights, I moped. Stayed in the saloon every morning and the hotel every night一not much else to do in a livestock town.

When I felt a bit better, I sold the Braithwaite horse. It was big and proud and all sorts of attention-grabbing. I bought a different one一drab and small, but fast.

Sooner than I thought, the news had travelled. A new bounty poster was slapped right on the wooden post outside the saloon, my sketchy reflection glaring back at me. MURDEROUS MAID.

I pursed my lips. They could’ve spared me the alliteration.

Tore it down, stuffed it in my bag, and left town. Wouldn’t take long for a small town like Valentine to put two and two together.

The bounty was nothing to sneeze at. I was almost flattered. Wanted alive, $500. I figured it’d take a lot to deter bounty hunters from $500, so I took to the mountains. It was likely just a matter of time, but by god was I going to make them work for it.

Now, here I was, having found some barn to hole up in, next to the remains of a torched homestead (I’d briefly picked through it and rescued a dented can of peaches and a lock box holding some fancy necklace). Would’ve preferred the house, but shelter was shelter. Peaches (affectionately named after said can) seemed to like it in here, at least.

“You want one, boy?” I held one out to where he sat a foot or so away from me. For only having just met me, he was a sweet horse, resting his head on my lap while I slept, following me around while I hunted (although I quickly found he loved to scare off game, and it took a lot of convincing to get him to just stay put, goddammit).

Peaches leaned his big head forward and sniffed at the proffered fruit. To my surprise, he snorted and turned away from it, flicking back his ears and giving me a severe side-eye. “What!” I laughed, bringing it back away from him. “Now you tell me.”

He huffed out of his nose, like it should have been quite obvious, thank you very much. I giggled and continued to eat, idly watching the flame flicker in one of the lanterns hung from the ceiling.

I eventually drifted off to sleep, still not any closer to figuring out my future than I was a month ago.

The next morning, I ventured back into the wilderness to hunt. So far, I’d been a bit less successful than I’d hoped, but I had done well enough for myself.

I breathed out slowly, my arm steadily following the movements of a buck a couple yards away. My breath puffed out white in front of me, warming my nose. This was the closest I’d ever gotten to game this big.

The buck lowered its head, nosing past the snow to the damp grass below. I kept my arrow aimed above, where I knew its head would return. A breath in. C’mon…

It raised its head, staring off to its right somewhere, and I stretched back the string, my grip still a bit wobbly against its force. Another breath out.

A whisk of air whooshed over me, and I startled, releasing my grip on the arrow. It flew a couple feet away before planting headfirst into the snow. Something forcibly tightened around my torso, crushing my arms against my sides. What the hell?! I yelped in surprise and wobbled from my perch, falling backwards.

My head dented the snow behind me, sending it down my collar and into my hair, freezing my neck and ears. “Ahh!” I struggled against the coil around me, simultaneously flinching away from the cold now assaulting my warm skin.

Footsteps crunched over to me, and an upside-down face and chest soon came into view. He looked down at me with a pleased expression on his face, or at least it seemed like it, it was hard to tell behind that high collar and tipped hat.

He rounded to my front and his gloved hands yanked at the rope, pulling me slightly up from the snow to face him better. He squinted at my face, now surely pinkened from the snow I could still see on my lashes. His chest rumbled with approval, and he nodded, more to himself than me. “Thought so.”

“What?” I exhaled, staring up at him dumbly.

He cracked a smile, and this time I could tell. “The murderous maid, I take it?”

My blood ran cold. Oh, fuck. I had almost forgotten, tucked away in this silent, snowy haven.

Apparently my expression was all it took to confirm things for him. His smile turned to a smirk and he tugged at the rope, bringing me up to stand. I instinctively pushed away from him, but he held me firmly to him, his arms thick and strong (my god this man was big). He looped the rope around me again before tying it securely at my front.

Then, he promptly threw me over his shoulder and began to walk.

“Let me go!!” I thrashed from my perch, kicking at him.

He growled and tightened his grip on my thighs. “Kick me again and I'll make you regret it, girl.”

A fearful whimper slipped past my lips and I stilled.

“That’s what I thought,” he grunted, but his grip didn’t loosen.

He whistled, loud and sharp, and I heard the familiar sound of hooves approaching. The image of Peaches by himself in the barn flitted through my head.

“Um, mister?” I whispered, my tone timid and polite. The tone I used to use with the Braithwaites.

He heaved a sigh, annoyed with me. “What.”

I bit my lip. I didn’t want to anger him further. “My… my horse. He’s in a barn nearby, I don’t want him to be stuck up here all by himself.”

He didn’t respond to that. I grimaced. If I’d kept the Braithwaite horse at least he would’ve saved it to sell it一Peaches was likely barely worth the walk to a man like him.

His horse slowed to a stop nearby, and the man none-too-gently threw me over its back. I winced, feeling its butt dig into my stomach.

The bounty hunter made quick work of me, tying my legs together and then securing me to his horse. He patted my thigh, “Comfy?” I could almost hear the smug look on his face.

“More ’n ever.” I grumbled, mostly to myself. He barked a laugh and pulled away from me, leaving me cold. He mounted up on his horse and began to ride.

I couldn’t see much from my “seat,” but I began to vaguely recognize the path he followed.

“Are you…” I started, my voice quiet. I turned my head to look up at him, and raised my voice. “Are you goin’ back for him?”

He didn’t answer, and made no move to indicate he had even heard me.

Not wanting to push my luck (or Peaches’), I stayed quiet.

Sure enough, we reached that barn and he dismounted. When he returned, Peaches was in tow, neighing happily when he saw me.

I laughed brightly despite the situation. “Hey, boy!!” The bounty hunter released his reins and Peaches bounded up to me, nuzzling and snorting into my hair wetly. I giggled and tried to move my head away. “Oh my god, Peaches, gross.”

“Peaches?” the man echoed, a note of disbelief coloring his tone.

I turned and smiled up at him. “What?”

He shook his head, gesturing to the horse. “Ain’t he a boah?”

“So?”

He snorted, but didn’t answer me, instead mounting back up on his horse. My smile faded from my face as we continued. My last days of freedom.

I stayed quiet as we rode, figuring that was the best way to get on his good side (I didn’t need to get smacked for yapping). The horse’s gait made me feel sick enough that I didn’t want to, anyway, its back poking into me, alternating between every corner of my stomach with each step.

Eventually, the snow began to taper off down the path, though a chill still hung in the air. I shivered, the back of my jacket still wet and cold against my neck. The sky was beginning to darken, subtly and colorlessly as winter skies often did.

Wordlessly, the bounty hunter turned us off the path and into the trees, likely seeking some spot to set up camp for the night. Peaches followed dutifully behind us, although he seemed to have sobered a bit, as if sensing my discomfort.

He must have found a spot he liked, as he dismounted and reached by my side for his tent and bedroll. He pulled them off and got to work setting everything up.

I felt my eyelids droop, my body finally able to relax with the horse stopped.

Not ten minutes later, I was jolted awake by hands grabbing me off of the horse and hoisting me up. I made a small noise of surprise in my throat, feeling him drop me back onto his shoulder, carrying me over to his makeshift camp. Truthfully, I had thought he’d just leave me on his horse for the night.

I wasn’t sure if this was better or worse.

The bounty hunter dropped me to the ground by the fire, and I huffed, adjusting myself to sit upright. The warmth wafting off of it confirmed that this was definitely better than being stuck on that horse all night. I leaned closer to it, and made to bring my hands up, but was cruelly reminded of the ropes keeping them by my sides. I heaved a sigh.

A bottle appeared in my vision. I blinked down at it in confusion, before looking up at the man who held it. “Whiskey?” I prompted.

“If there’s any time to drink, it’d be now.” He nudged the lip of the bottle closer to my mouth.

I held his gaze for a moment longer before turning to it. “…Can’t argue with that.” I pressed my lips against it. He lightly tipped the bottle, letting a good mouthful flow past my lips. I choked it down, then another, then another, then another, before finally wrenching my face from it, coughing. “Jesus!”

He laughed, corking it and tucking it into his satchel. He knelt down behind me and I felt a pressure on the ropes before they snapped away. I brought my arms forward slowly, rubbing my hands over them. He stood and rounded the fire, plopping down on the other side of it. I looked up at him in confusion.

He grinned. “Gave you enough whiskey that even if you try to hop away,” He paused, his grin turning wolfish, “You won’t get far.” He stretched out languidly, finally allowing himself to relax.

Heat crept up my neck, flustered at his reasoning. “You just get all your bounties drunk?” I spluttered.

He shrugged.

I huffed, holding out my hands towards the fire to warm them. “Creep.”

“I ain’t the one goin’ around killin’ old ladies.” He retorted.

I threw my hands in the air in exasperation. “I didn’t kill her!”

“Sure sounds like you did.”

I raked my hand through my hair. “Why the hell would I kill the woman payin’ me to live?” I met his gaze again.

He didn’t seem very sympathetic. Another shrug. “Lots of people wanna kill their boss.”

“Not me!”

He snorted. “I’m shoah.”

I shook my head at the fire, deflating. “I had it made working for her. Easy work, good pay, didn’t really have to talk to anyone, and,” I shrugged my shoulders, “best part of having a lady boss is she won’t let the men get away with being terrible to you.”

He stayed quiet, and I felt myself ramble more, “I mean, sure, she was a miserable old hag, mean ’n sour, but as long as you stayed out of her way and did your job, she was cordial enough.” The image of her on the ground flicked through my mind. “Shit.” I pressed my palms into my eyes, wiling them to cast it from my brain. “Can’t believe this is how it ends.”

The drink began to encroach further into my head, making my thoughts hazy. I cursed again under my breath, the reality of the situation truly, truly, settling in. This was it for me. Swinging from a rope for a crime I didn’t commit.

“You really didn’t do it.”

I scoffed, not meeting his eyes. “Been sayin’ that, haven’t I?”

“…That you have.”

Silence fell between us once more, each left with our thoughts. It felt nice to be believed by at least one person before the end.

A gust of wind blew by, and I shivered, reminded of the wet coat I was still shrouded in. I glanced over the fire at the bounty hunter, but he didn’t look up, eyes hidden under his hat.

“...Mister?”

He raised his head, and that piercing gaze met mine. I faltered, almost losing my voice to it.

He heaved a great sigh. “…Arthur.”

“What?”

He sighed, raising his hat momentarily to rake a hand through his hair before placing it back down again. “Call me Arthur.”

I smiled softly in spite of myself. “Okay.”

“…And what did you need?” Arthur prompted, as I had already forgotten. Perhaps he was right about that whiskey.

I rubbed my hands on my arms. “Do you have any… drier clothes I could wear?”

He nodded, pushing up from the ground. I watched him make his way over to his saddlebag, watched him rifle through it for something dry.

It had to be the whiskey. Or that he was the first to believe me. Or that he was really the first person I’d seen in weeks.

His back was just so… broad. My eyes followed how the muscles underneath his shirt moved, following his arms’ movements. My mind helpfully supplied how one of those big arms felt wrapped around my thighs, how that big hand felt patting my thigh, so close to…

He turned around, and I forcefully muted my thoughts, spreading a polite smile on my face. He made his way back to me, some bunched up garment in hand. I began to shrug off my coat, struggling with it as it snagged on my undershirt and held tight to my shoulders.

Arthur watched me try to figure it out, but eventually I just gave up, so fatigued from the day that I just didn’t care anymore. He chuckled, kneeling down next to me. “Outsmart you, did it?”

I rolled my eyes and sighed. “I’ll deal with it in a second,” I offered a small smile, “Thank you.”

“I got it,” he said, and at first I wasn’t sure what he meant. He dropped the coat in his hand and moved in front of me. I watched him wordlessly, suddenly feeling very tired of talking anyway.

Arthur’s eyes met my own for a moment, searching my face. Whatever he found there, he seemed satisfied with, and he moved his hands to the buttons of my jacket. He started from the top, unbuttoning each at an impossibly slow pace, or at least it felt like it.

He smoothed his hands up to my shoulders, and gently pushed off each sleeve, taking out my arms. I shivered again, my skin now freshly exposed to the cold. I spied the slightest twitch of his lips. He reached around me, his body hovering slightly above mine, his neck an inch from my lips. I felt myself lean forward, my nose brushing up against him. His hands pulled the rest of my coat off from behind me, and he sat back, bunching it into a ball. He then took his dry coat and pulled it over me in its place, rubbing his hands slightly up and down my arms. “There,” he said, and rested back on his heels again.

I blinked up at him, my lips slightly parted. His face softened, his lips pulling down into a teasing smile. He reached out and cupped my cheek, and I leaned into it almost immediately, not caring enough to be embarrassed by it. So big and warm. “Lookit you…” he cooed, his thumb stroking my skin. “Feelin’ that drink already?”

I hummed noncommittally, too focused on the newfound warmth from his jacket around me and his hand on my cheek.

Arthur huffed a quiet laugh, “Guess that’s a yes.”

He stood, dropping his hand from my cheek, and my head dropped slightly. I sighed, snuggling into his jacket to make up for it. It wasn’t the same.

“‘M still cold.” I complained.

“Yer insatiable.” He said, but knelt back down again nonetheless. I raised my head to meet his gaze. He thinned his lips. “Don’t think I’ve ever had such a whiny bounty.”

“Sorry, Arthur.” I mumbled, looking over at his tent longingly. It wasn’t my barn, but it would give at least some protection from this wind, as opposed to sleeping out here.

Before I could ask about it, air whooshed beneath me, and I yelped in surprise. Arthur had hoisted me up into his arms, and began to carry me to his tent. My eyes widened slightly. “A..Arthur?” I whispered, subconsciously snuggling into his chest. He was so strong, it was like I weighed nothing to him.

“You’ll just whine all night if I don’t let you stay in here.” He explained, ducking past the flaps to drop me down on the bedroll. He was probably right about that. Or maybe this was just another way of making sure I didn’t escape while he slept.

I rolled under the cover, snuggling into it as far as I could. I inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of him, so much stronger here than on his jacket. My eyelids fluttered closed.

I felt him sigh and enter the bedroll next to me. It was a tight fit, Arthur pressed against my back to keep any amount of cover atop him. His hand rested on my hip, heavy and possessive. “Warmer?” He whispered, his breath tickling my ear. He was so close.

“Mm-hm,” I hummed, my voice barely coming out.

I thought that was it, but then…

His voice dropped lower, quieter. “…You sure?”

A shiver ran through me. What? His hand squeezed my hip lightly, pulling me closer into him. His breath ghosted past my ear, against my neck. Was he…?

I exhaled shakily, some deep part of my whiskey-addled brain telling me that this was my chance. That if there was anything that would convince this man to let me go…

Lightly, I pressed back into him, sighing when I felt his hand smooth to the top of my thigh. “Could use a bit more,” I murmured.

It was all the prompting Arthur needed. Hot lips pressed against my neck, his hand insistent on molding my ass against the hard line in his pants. My breath hitched in surprise, and I felt myself rock back against him before I could think. He cursed under his breath, dragging his hand forward and between my thighs. I attempted to part my legs, allow him better access, but was met with resistance.

Oh, right. The rope.

He laughed behind me, smoothing his hand back to grab my ass instead. I squeaked in surprise, feeling him push me onto my stomach. “Don’t think you’re gettin’ out of those anytime soon,” he promised. I flushed at that.

Arthur yanked me back, forcing my ass into the air. I felt his hands palm me, smoothing circles into my pants. “Looks even better like this,” he muttered, and I couldn’t tell if he was talking to me or himself.

Before I could respond, he reached around and unclasped my pants (much faster than my jacket), pulling down at the sides just enough. The rope bound me mid-thigh, so he could only get my pants down so far. A cool breeze blew past the tent, and I felt a bit of it ghost against me. My face reddened, feeling all at once how wet I was. Really? I felt surprised at myself.

I squirmed, rubbing my thighs together. “Arthur, are-“

A slap to my ass silenced me. I squeaked and jolted forward, the heat in my face increasing tenfold. “Dealt with enough of yer whinin’ for one night.” He bit, soothing his hand over where he slapped.

I exhaled, burying my face deeper into the bedroll, feeling my hips sway against his hand, begging for more.

His hands smoothed down my ass, reaching down to squeeze my thighs apart, to better see me, see how wet I already was for him. I hoped he couldn’t see. It was bad enough to have him feel-

“A-Ah…” my breath hitched, feeling his thumb drag down through my folds.

He hissed, sliding the pad of his thumb against my clit. “Shit, sweetheart, you’re soakin’,”

I squirmed against his touch, trying not to moan, unsure if I’d be punished again for it. He pushed his thumb back up, pressing it inside of me, and I felt myself try to part my legs again, to feel more of him, deeper, and almost cried in frustration when I couldn’t.

I heard him chuckle again behind me. “Aww, I’ll take care of you, darlin’, don’ worry,” he said, moving his thumb out to trace back down to my clit, pushing another finger inside of me in its stead. I muffled my moan into the pillow.

Arthur continued working at me, circling my clit with those deft, rough fingers of his, slowly pushing in and out of me. I pushed back against him, desperately trying to feel more, but every time he just shoved me right back where I was before, keeping up his torturous pace.

All at once, he pulled away, and I whined. Another slap to my ass as a result, and I let out a muffled groan, feeling my eyes roll back. “What’d I say about whinin’?” He admonished.

I wiggled my hips back, hearing him undo his own pants. Please, please, please. He was all I could think about, my legs desperately trying to separate, to take in more, more, more.

I almost wept when I felt him nudge against me, coating himself in the wetness he’d created. I pushed back, trying to take him in, knowing if I angled it right he wouldn’t even need to help me. His hand kept my ass steady, soothing circles onto it. “So needy…” he mocked, smoothing his hand down to my hips, to my waist, squeezing there.

Slowly, god, so slowly, he pushed into me, forcing me open around him. I moaned obscenely, unable to keep it back anymore. He didn’t seem to care this time, letting out a low curse of his own under his breath. Almost there, almost there… and he thrust into me, making me gasp at the sudden movement.

He pulled back and rammed back in, setting a bruising pace. I pushed back into him with each thrust, the ropes cutting into my thighs with how I fought against them, trying to take in as much of him as possible each time.

His hands gripped the tops of my thighs and part of my ass like a handle, using me like some kind of toy. “God-damn,” his voice came out staccato, matching his movements, “you’re so fuckin’.. tight.. for me…”

I whimpered, arching back, so lost in pleasure that I truly didn’t care what he did to me. He could have whatever he wanted, as far as I was concerned.

Drool dribbled out of my mouth, wetting his pillow. I felt limp under him, only kept upright by those rough hands of his.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his movements becoming less regular, more frantic. He swore again before pulling out of me, spending onto my ass and back.

We stayed like that for a moment or two, catching our breath, before he swiped off my back with something and collapsed next to me.

I flopped onto my side to face him, my legs still bound together. “Thank you, Arthur,” I whispered, “I’m much warmer now.”

Arthur snorted, snaking his arm around me to pull me to his chest. “My pleasure.”

The next morning I awoke alone in his tent, hearing him shuffle around outside. I blinked blearily, reaching up to rub the crust from my eyes. I yawned, laying onto my back, stretching my legs apart.

Wait. Stretching my legs apart?

I glanced down to visually confirm the sensation, finding my legs freed from the rope. I also noticed my pants had been pulled back up to cover me.

I sat up, peeking through the tent flaps. He sat at the fire, his back to me. Was he just letting me sleep comfortably before we left?

Despite the threat of death hanging over my head, I felt myself warm at the thought. This was a much sweeter awakening than I had expected.

Before I could think about escaping, or at least putting off our trip to the hangman, Arthur turned, as if sensing I was awake. "Mornin'," he greeted, his voice soft and low. I shrank a little under his gaze, and whispered a greeting back before creeping out from the tent.

Once outside, I shivered, pulling his jacket tighter around me. Arthur grunted, beckoning to me. "C'mere,"

I obeyed, walking over to where he sat. He spread his legs, patting the ground between them. I blinked down at him blankly.

He rolled his eyes and snatched at my hand, pulling me to the ground. I made a small noise of surprise, falling to sit between his legs. His arms and knees caged me in, bringing me back into his chest. This was so strange.

But not unwelcome.

I snuggled back into him anyway, not about to turn my nose up at the last physical affection I'd ever receive.

We stared into the fire for who knows how long. I almost didn't breathe, trying not to remind him that we had places to be.

Arthur squeezed me lightly, propping his chin on my shoulder. "Y'can relax," he sighed, his accent thicker now, in the morning. "'M not bringin' y'in."

What? My breath hitched, my heart beating faster. Was he serious? I turned in his hold slowly, craning my neck to look back at him. I didn't trust myself to speak.

He met my gaze, his expression unreadable.

"...Thank you," I said dumbly, breaking eye contact. Well, now what?

Now, I certainly didn't want him to change his mind.

I turned a bit more in his hold to better face him, feeling his arms adjust around me. I smoothed my hands up his shirt and met his eyes again. He watched me carefully, suspiciously, like he was expecting some kind of attack.

I moved slowly, not wanting to startle him, inching my face closer to his. I watched his eyes drop to my lips, his own parting in anticipation. I hadn't noticed before, but I seemed to have some sway over this bounty hunter, readily accepting whatever touch I offered him.

I smiled softly at that, and closed the gap between us, gently pressing my lips to his. Warm.

He melted the slightest amount, his shoulders sagging, his chest leaning closer to me. He was sweeter, now, in the morning. Softer, more patient. I slipped my hands up behind his neck, scratching lightly at the hair poking out from beneath his hat. He sighed into my mouth, his arms squeezing me closer to him.

I wasn't sure how long we stayed like that, warm and close. When we broke apart, he cleared his throat, looking past me to not meet my eyes. "You..." his voice scratched out and he cleared his throat again, "Y'can stay with me, if you want. 'Till this whole thing blows over."

I had a sneaking suspicion it would be a long time yet. I nuzzled my nose against his jaw. Staying with him was safer than anything I would try on my own. "Thank you, Arthur."

He hummed.

a/n: on a scale of 1-10 how terrible is it that i posted this from class NOT WROTE IN CLASS posted from

anyway teehee hope you enjoyed and also hope it wasnt obvious that i kinda had no idea where to go with this teehee im just a girl

(also posted on ao3 under same user)

#fanfic #fanfiction #arthur morgan #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x you #rdr2 #rdr2 arthur #rdr2 fanfic #bounty hunter #request #requests open #reqs open #writing requests

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