#Rod’s happy trail save me…..Rod’s happy trail…..save me Rod’s happy trail

[wildeoscars]

I think it’s a good day to remember this photoshoot

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Hi, if you're still doing cuddle prompts, could I request Mayday with hugging from behind?

If you want to, and have time, no pressure.

Life Day Comes but Once Each Year... but Mayday Doesn't

A/N: Happy Krampusnacht, Nika! My deepest apologies for the long delay on this fic, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. You can blame @cloned-eyes for my clone!Krampus obsession. Their Krampus Bad Batch art has been living rent-free in my head for a year, and I am definitely on the naughty list. Thanks for that.

Pairing: Krampus!Mayday x Reader (fem; has hair)

Rating: M (mature content intended for readers 18+; minors DNI)

Wordcount: 2.7k

Warnings and tags: established relationship but it’s complicated; fluff; domesticity; SMUT with the tiniest scrap of plot to explain how TF Mayday ended up as Krampus; allusions to spanking/flogging; monsterfucking but make it tender because it’s Mayday; oral sex; fingering; PIV; creampie; body worship; more fluff; crack treated seriously; Mayday wants to wife you up because it is literally impossible for me not to see this man as husband material; mention of wanting children; if horns not for grabbing, why handle-shaped? 

Summary: He’s a monstrous immortal who has carried out the duties of Krampus across the galaxy for a millennium. But for one night each year, just before Life Day, he’s yours.

Suggested Listening:

This fic smells like: Apres by Ellis Brooklyn (evergreen trees, snow-capped mountains, bourbon on a cold night)

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The cabin was dark, save for the soft, warm glow cast by the lights of the Life Day tree and the flickering illumination of the fire that blazed in the wood stove. Outside, the wind howled with menace as the snow whirled in a blinding flurry, but the cabin was sturdy, and the winter storm battered fruitlessly against the walls. 

On the caf table sat two empty schnapps glasses and a half-finished puzzle, abandoned with its incomplete pieces scattered across the tabletop and the floor around it. The Life Day album you’d been playing had long since ended, and now the only sounds in your living room were the faint crackle of the fire, the muffled roar of the wind, and the quiet ticking of your cuckoo chronometer.

The scene was disgustingly wholesome, considering the decidedly unwholesome activities that had occurred on top of that very caf table not much earlier, but you were too drowsy and comfortable to care. You were curled up across Mayday’s lap, with your head tucked into the crook of his neck and your hand resting flat against his chest, just over his heart. You could feel the beat of it, steady and warm beneath your palm, and for a moment, you closed your eyes, just to listen to the sound of his breathing.

“Tired, love?” he asked, pressing his lips to the top of your head. His fingers trailed over your shoulder, down your bare arm to your elbow, and back up, again and again, in a hypnotic rhythm.

“Hm-mmm,” you lied. “Wide awake.”

His quiet chuckle ruffled the fine hairs at your hairline. “You know liars go on the naughty list.” 

You smiled and tilted your face up to kiss his cheek, brushing your fingertips along the curling length of one of his horns. “I’m pretty sure at least half of the things we did earlier were enough to land me on the naughty list in perpetuity.”

“A permanent fixture,” he agreed. His solemn tone was belied by the smile that faintly creased the corners of his dark eyes that glimmered red in the dim light. “I have a special place on it, just for you.”

“I hope it’s at the top.”

“Is that where you want to be?” He grazed the tip of his nose down your cheek and then bit your lip softly.

“On top, underneath, on the floor, on my knees—anywhere you want.”

“Careful, darlin’. That kind of talk will get you in trouble.”

“Oh, no, I would absolutely hate it if you felt the need to punish me with those birch rods of yours,” you murmured.

He chuckled quietly as his hand stole up your thigh to massage over the fading red marks and gently squeeze your ass. “Did you not get enough earlier?”

His hands slid languidly up your body, gathering up your oversized knit sweater and pushing it up and over your head, leaving you completely nude.

“You know, there’s a snowstorm out there,” you teased. “I’m going to get hypothermia.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep you warm.” His lips trailed down your throat as he leaned you back against the small mountain of throw pillows and began to kiss his way down your body. “Your sofa is much more comfortable than your caf table. We should have done this earlier. Take pity on an old man’s knees.”

“I wasn’t aware that immortal, mythical beings had joint problems—Oh, that’s nice, keep doing that.”

“With pleasure.”

He draped one of your legs over your shoulder, and the other he pinned between his body and the back of the sofa. He gripped your hips, holding you in place while he took you apart with meticulous thoroughness. Your fingers tunneled through his shaggy hair and then wrapped around his curling horns, shamelessly using them for leverage as you guided his head exactly where you needed him. 

“Just like that,” he murmured, his voice vibrating over your flesh, driving every thought from your mind as his lips moved softly against your cunt and his forked tongue swirled over and wrapped around your clit. “Do that again. Show me how you want me.”

His long tongue slid deeper, caressing insistently inside your body, focusing on the places he knew so well and working you with agonizing precision. Your hips twitched up off the couch, moving without your permission as you let out a sudden gasp. His strong hands tightened around you and pressed you back down.

“Liked that, did you?” 

His tongue slid back inside, repeating the exact motion until you were shaking and whimpering beneath him, desperate and balancing on the knife edge of pleasure.

And then he withdrew, the monster.

You swallowed a choked sound of protest and suppressed the urge to grab his horns and press him back down. He smiled wickedly up at you and licked his lips.

“I could feast on you all night, love,” he said.

Then why the kriff did you stop?! You wanted to scream, but you knew it would just make him more determined to draw out your torment.

“I’d let you,” you replied breathlessly, hoping that he’d take the karking hint and put that lovely tongue back to work.

No such luck. He dropped his head back down, but instead of going where you wanted him, he pressed a kiss just above your pussy, then another, a little higher, and another, higher still, until he had kissed a trail halfway up your abdomen. He buried his face against your belly, using you as a pillow, and you were just beginning to wonder exactly what the punishment would be for murdering your teasing godsdammned Krampus lover, when he spoke.

“I missed you this year.” His quiet, surprisingly vulnerable words melted away your irritation like snow in spring.

“I missed you, too.”

He tilted his head to look up at you with soft eyes. “What did you miss?”

“Your extremely long tongue,” you quipped, determined to keep things casual despite brushing painfully close to confessing the decidedly uncasual nature of your feelings for him. 

He laughed. “Anything else?”

“Your extremely thick—Oh!” Your words were cut off by your own gasp as he slid one of his big fingers into your cunt.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Let me hear you.”

You would have levitated off the couch if he hadn’t been holding you down. As it was, you let out a sound that would have been embarrassing if you’d been cogent enough for it to register. Instead, you writhed and whimpered, and when he slid a second finger in next to the first, it was all over for you. The orgasm he’d teased you with crashed into you, and your body thrashed beneath him as you cried out hoarsely. 

“There it is,” he growled. “There’s that beautiful sound I’ve been dreaming about all year.”

He watched you with voracious eyes, a subtle glimmer of red flashing in their depths as his clever fingers wrang every last drop of pleasure from your body, drawing out your climax until you felt as though your entire body was unraveling. Knelt between your thighs, with a sinful grin that flashed his sharp canines, he looked like the devil himself, come to steal your soul away.

Except he wasn’t satisfied with only your soul. He wanted all of you: heart, body, and mind, and damn him to the seven hells, because you’d given them all to him.

The sofa creaked under his shifting weight as he began to crawl up your body, still working his fingers inside you, his lips and tongue grazing softly over every curve, every freckle, every centimeter of your smooth, warm skin. 

“My sweet, perfect little one,” he murmured, withdrawing his fingers at last as he settled between your thighs.

It had been strange at first, all those years ago, to feel the thick, warm fur of his thighs when he moved inside you. You had long since grown accustomed to it, and you sighed luxuriously as he pressed into you. His hand glided down your thigh to wrap it around his hip, and suddenly, he paused.

“What’s this?”

He pulled his hand away and held up a puzzle piece he’d found stuck to your leg.

“That was definitely your fault,” you laughed.

“Guilty as charged.” He tossed the puzzle piece over his shoulder and captured your hand instead, drawing it up over your head and interlacing your fingers with his own as he held it in place. 

“Kriff, you’re so fucking tight,” he panted, his breath hot against your throat as he tucked his face against your shoulder, kissing and softly biting, careful not to break the skin but letting you feel the sharp points of his teeth nonetheless. “Your pussy is magic. You feel incredible. I missed you so much—I missed this.”

Your legs twined around his waist; your free hand tangled in his hair and then glided down the back of his neck to hold him close.

“Kiss me,” you said, and he did, without hesitation. 

His tongue swept between your lips, and you could taste the wild, heady flavor of your own body in his kiss. He began to move, setting a languid pace but thrusting hard. 

“Gonna fuck you so deep you’ll never forget me,” he whispered.

As if you could ever forget him when you felt him in every beat of your heart, every breath of your lungs, every pulse of blood in your veins. He owned you without ever staking a claim. He owned you, and he didn’t even know it.

“Yes,” you breathed. “Make me feel you for days.”

He took his time, savoring you as if every tick of the chronometer didn’t steal away another second of your dwindling moments with him. But he knew what he wanted, and he pursued it relentlessly, refusing to take his own pleasure until he’d built you inexorably to another climax. Only when he felt you clench around him and cry out his name did he finally let go. He pounded into you hard and fast, gripping your hip in one massive hand to hold you in place until at last he came with a silent snarl, flooding you with molten heat.

He collapsed onto you. You reveled in his weight and warmth, burying your face against him and inhaling his scent as if you could brand it on your memory. After a moment, he shifted off of you. He tucked you against the back of the sofa and stretched alongside you, resting his forehead against yours as he wrapped you in his arms.

“Magic, huh?” you murmured with a tiny smile.

“Magic,” he repeated. 

He tugged the throw blanket from its crumpled heap on the floor and settled it over the pair of you, and within seconds, you were asleep.

The cabin was cold when you woke, and Mayday built the fire back up while you brewed a pot of caf. It had been little more than a power nap, but still, you felt a pang of regret that you’d wasted even that much of your limited time with him in sleep. You could sleep after he left, after all. You would have a whole year to sleep.

You stood by the window, hands wrapped around your mug of hot, fragrant caf, silently observing the scene outside. The storm had exhausted itself overnight, and the resulting thick blanket of fresh snow was perfectly, eerily peaceful. It was dark yet, but the pale light of dawn had begun to outline the mountains in a narrow strip of gold.

“Sun is coming up,” you murmured. “You’ll need to leave soon.”

He came to stand behind you, slipping his hands around your waist and wrapping you in his arms as he pulled you back against his chest and rested his chin on your shoulder. “I don’t want to go.”

“I don’t want you to, either,” you confessed.

“Maybe I should stick around.”

Your heart panged, and it actually stung that he would even joke about something like that, but you refused to taint the last few moments you had with him this Life Day by getting weepy, or gods forbid, begging him to stay.

“How would that work? Considering you’re, you know…”

“An ageless, unkillable monster tasked with punishing evildoers each year before Life Day,” he supplied helpfully. “Or as I prefer to think of it, enforcing the naughty list.”

“Yeah, that.”

Your wry tone pulled a reluctant laugh from him, and he tightened his arms more securely around your body, pulling you close. “Because it’s the final year of my contract.” 

“Contract?”

“I died,” he explained quietly. “A long time ago, on a planet far, far away. In the bitter winter, under the pitiless gaze of a man who saw me as less than nothing.”

You sucked in a sharp breath, tamping down your rage at this unknown man, knowing that right now, he needed your understanding, not your righteous indignation. “What happened?”

“The Force saw it differently. I was offered a chance. An opportunity for another life.”

“And the catch was…” You reached up behind you to trace your fingertips along the curve of one of his horns. “... this?”

He nodded. “One thousand years of service.”

One thousand years. Gods.

“Was it worth it?”

He huffed softly, and his hand flattened against your belly and slid up your rib cage until it rested just below your breast. “Ten years ago, I would have said no. Ten years ago, I would have said it was a cosmic kriffin’ joke.”

“Ten years?” you whispered. “That was—”

“When I met you,” he finished. “Ten years is nothing to me. I was so close to the end of my contract that I could taste my freedom. But ten years is a hell of a long time for a mortal. I knew there was no way I could ask you to wait for a creature like me—someone you only saw once a year.”

You rested your palm over his hand and then lifted it to your lips to press a kiss against his wrist. “Good thing you didn’t have to ask.”

His hand curled around the side of your head, and he turned his head to kiss your temple. “I want to marry you.”

Your heart stuttered to a halt before giving a violent thump. “... What?”

 “I knew from the first time I saw you.”

“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” you demanded.

“I never propose before the tenth date.”

“That’s not funny!” you exclaimed.

“They can’t all be zingers.”

“Be serious, Mayday.”

“I am serious,” he said softly. “I want you to be my wife. I want to wake up next to you every morning, instead of alone in an empty bed. I want you to be the mother of my little hellspawn babies.”

You snorted, and he smiled, pressing one last kiss to the side of your head. For a moment, you allowed yourself the indulgence of imagining a future of this: waking up with him, having these moments of quiet intimacy every day, instead of squeezing as many as possible into a single day each year. It was a lovely fantasy, but your pragmatic mind refused to let you dwell on it for long before logic started poking holes in the idea.

“But you’re immortal,” you protested, “and I’ll be gone in a blink of your eyes.”

“Not after this Life Day,” he replied. “Once my service is done, I’ll age like any other human.”

“But you’ll keep the horns, right?” you blurted out before you could stop the words.

He smirked. “I think that could be arranged.”

“And really, we’ve only known each other for ten days.”

“I’ve thought about you every single moment in between. I’ve crossed the galaxy more times than I care to count, and I have seen more things than you can possibly imagine. And in all my long life, I have never seen anyone more perfect for me. I was never meant to find anyone, but I found you, and I can’t imagine letting you go.”

Oh, that’s just… That’s just playing dirty. Damn him and his silver tongue. His lovely, long, forked—FOCUS! This isn’t the time to be making decisions with your ovaries!

“You’re just bewitched by my magic pussy.”

That startled a laugh out of him, and he tilted your jaw up for a kiss. “Stop talking like a degenerate and say you’ll marry me.”

“Fine. But if baby Krampuses come out with horns, we’re getting a divorce.”

If you haven’t seen @/cloned-eyes Krampus Bad Batch art, you need to. Wrecker, Hunter, Crosshair, Tech, Echo, Wolffe.

More Mayday: Fluff and spice.

Taglist:

@523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @merkitty49 @arcsimper5 @clio3kantarella

@cloneloverrrrr @goblininawig @ladytano420 @arctrooper69 @sunshinesdaydream

@littlemissmanga @stunkbiggu @marierg @idontgetanysleep @lonewolflupe

@moonlightwarriorqueen @dudewhynotthis @sleepycreativewriter @tcwmatchmakingau @littlemissbshine

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@lightwise @swcowgal @vrycurious @thora-sniper

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@dangraccoon @transactivecybermemory @etod @ivyyyyy @somewhere-on-kamino

@burningnerdchild @saneabandoned @heidnspeak @maniacalbooper @rebell-ious

[bunnist4rz]

A PERFECT DAY AT THE BEACH; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; On a beautiful beach day, you and Gojo savor ice cream as the sun sets, enjoying the peacefulness of the moment. As you stroll along the shore, you reminisce about your first visit and share sweet conversations that deepen your bond. Gojo expresses his appreciation for the day, and a tender kiss solidifies your feelings for each other. After returning home, you create a loving note for Gojo, who wakes to a beautiful morning filled with promise. Together, you embrace the day ahead, knowing that every moment spent together is a cherished memory in your love story. word count; 2.5k content; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, set in canon au, fluff very silly guys, introvert/extrovert a/n; Hi guys :33 sorry for like going on hiatus for like a week ive just been like battling a illness and i couldnt write 🙁🙁 but i hope this makes up for it!!

The sun was setting, painting the sky with strokes of vibrant oranges and pinks that mirrored the color of our melting ice cream. You had spent the entire day playing in the waves and lounging in the sand, and now you were enjoying the sweet finale of our beach escapade. The coolness of the ice cream was a stark contrast to the warmth of the sand beneath you, and the sound of the waves was like a gentle lullaby, soothing my nerves.

Gojo's arm was around your shoulder, and you felt safe, protected from the whispers of the world that didn’t matter anymore. You took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of his sunscreen and the faint hint of saltwater from his hair. "Isn't this the perfect end to the day?" you mused, leaning into his embrace.

He smiled, his eyes reflecting the fiery horizon. "It really is. I can't think of anywhere else I'd rather be."

The beach was slowly emptying, families collecting their things and children being herded towards the parking lot. The air grew cooler as the sun dipped lower, leaving behind a trail of fire across the water.

As we finished our ice creams, you felt a sense of contentment wash over you. You looked into Gojo’s eyes and saw the same happiness reflected there. His thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping away a stray drop of melted chocolate. “Let’s take a walk before we go,” he suggested, standing up and offering a hand.

"Sure," you replied, taking his hand. "I'd love that."

You took it, allowing him to pull you to your feet. Your bare feet sank into the cool sand as you strolled along the shoreline, the waves playing tag with your toes. "Remember the first time we came here?" you asked, a nostalgic smile on your face.

Gojo chuckled, the sound mingling with the ocean breeze. "How could I forget? You tried to build the biggest sandcastle and ended up burying me instead."

You laughed, the memory bringing warmth to your heart. "I guess some things never change."

The horizon was a canvas of color, the light dancing on the surface of the water like a million shimmering jewels. It was a moment of pure magic, unmarred by the troubles that waited for us beyond the beach.

As you walked, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace settling in your chest. Gojo’s hand was firm in yours, a constant reminder that you were not alone. "You know," you began, your voice soft, "today really meant a lot to me. Thank you for bringing me here."

He squeezed your hand gently. "Anything for you. Seeing you happy makes me happy."

The waves grew quieter as the sun disappeared, the sky darkening into a velvet curtain studded with stars. The beach was almost empty now, save for a few lingering couples and the occasional night fishermen setting up their rods. The sound of the ocean was a rhythmic lullaby, and the cool evening breeze whispered sweet nothings in your ears.

You stopped walking, letting the waves kiss your ankles as you gazed into the horizon. Gojo stood behind you, his chest pressed against your back, his arms wrapping around your waist. His breath was warm on your neck as he leaned in to whisper, “Thank you for today. I needed this more than I realized.”

You leaned back into him, feeling his warmth and strength. “Thank you for making sure I felt like I belonged here with you,” you said, your voice soft.

He pulled you closer, his embrace tightening. “You always do. No matter where we are, you’re my home.”

The stars began to twinkle, their light bouncing off the gentle waves. It was a moment frozen in time, a memory you’d hold onto tightly when the world grew stormy. But for now, you had the beach, the stars, and Gojo.

And it was enough.

You turned in his arms, looking up at him with a smile that spoke volumes of your affection. "You know, I was worried today might not go well with everything that's been going on."

Gojo’s eyes softened. "I know you've been feeling overwhelmed. I'm glad we could take this time together."

His eyes searched yours, as if trying to read the story of your soul. In that moment, everything was silent except for the whispers of the ocean and the pounding of your hearts. He leaned down, and you closed your eyes, feeling his lips brush against yours in a gentle kiss that seemed to hold all the love in the universe.

When you broke away, breathless and smiling, Gojo took your hand once again. The stars had taken over the sky, casting a soft glow over the beach, making everything seem otherworldly and perfect. The sand was cool underfoot, but the warmth between you two was enough to keep you from shivering.

"Come on," Gojo whispered, pulling you towards the shoreline. "Let's make this night last a little longer."

Walking hand in hand, you found yourselves lost in a silent conversation, one that didn’t need words to convey the depth of your feelings. The sound of the waves was your music, the stars your spotlight, and the beach was your dance floor. You spun around, laughing, letting the breeze twirl your hair as Gojo watched you with a fond smile.

As the night grew cooler, you decided to head back to the car. Your feet left footprints in the damp sand, a trail of moments that would soon be washed away by the tide. "I don't want tonight to end," you confessed softly.

Gojo glanced back at you, his eyes reflecting the moonlight. "It doesn't have to. We can come back anytime."

In the quiet of the evening, as you drove home, you felt a sense of tranquility settle in your heart. The whispers of the beach and the warmth of Gojo’s hand on your leg reminded you that love isn’t about grand gestures or fighting off competition. It’s about moments like these, when the world faded away, and all that mattered was the two of you, the salt air, and the promise of forever.

The car’s headlights pierced through the darkness, illuminating the path ahead. You leaned your head against the seat, watching the world pass by. Gojo’s hand found yours again, and you squeezed it tightly. "Tonight was perfect," you whispered.

He nodded, his thumb gently stroking your knuckles. "Every moment with you feels like a dream."

You knew that no matter what tomorrow brought, tonight was a treasure, a memory to hold onto when the storms of life raged.

And as the beach grew smaller in your rearview mirror, the horizon a line of fading light, you felt a surge of hope. Because with Gojo by your side, you could face any challenge, conquer any fear, and create a future as beautiful as the sunset you had just witnessed.

The story of your love was still being written, with every kiss, every shared laugh, and every quiet moment of understanding. And as the stars twinkled above, you realized that sometimes, the simplest days could be the most profound, leaving an imprint on your soul that no amount of time could ever erase.

The drive home was filled with the same easy conversation and occasional bouts of silence that you had come to cherish.

As the car rolled to a stop outside your apartment, the world felt a bit brighter, a bit warmer than it had when you had left that morning.

You stepped out of the car, the cool evening air kissing your skin, and took a deep breath. The scent of salt and the sea still clung to your hair, a reminder of the day’s adventure. Gojo opened the trunk, grabbing your bags with a yawn. “I can carry yours too, if you want,” he offered, his eyes sparkling in the dim light of the streetlamp.

You smiled, shaking your head. “I’ve got it,” you said, taking your bag. The weight of the day’s memories felt good in your arms. As you approached the building, you could feel the exhaustion tugging at the edges of your consciousness, but the happiness from your time at the beach was a balm to your soul.

Inside, the quiet hum of the elevator was the only sound as you ascended to your floor. When the doors slid open, Gojo leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, lingering kiss. “Thank you for an amazing day,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble in the stillness.

You stepped into the apartment, the warmth of the lights a comforting embrace. "It's been a perfect day," you whispered back.

Gojo followed, his eyes scanning the room with a fondness that made you realize just how much he enjoyed the simple moments with you. The mess of shoes by the door, the pile of discarded clothes from your quick change, it was all part of the story of your life together.

With the windows thrown open, the sound of the distant waves seemed to follow you into the apartment. You watched as Gojo shed his wet swimsuit, his muscles flexing as he moved with an easy grace that never failed to make your heart race. "Need any help?" you teased, reaching out to trace the patterns of sand on his skin.

He laughed, the sound resonating in the room. "I think I’ve got it from here."

But you couldn’t resist, moving closer to him. "Not if you want some help."

He chuckled, leaning into your touch. "Alright, but only if you promise to make it quick."

But first, there was the promise of a hot shower to wash away the salt and sand. You stepped into the steaming water, letting it cascade over your body like a gentle embrace. As you washed the remnants of the beach from your hair, Gojo joined you, his hands strong and sure as he lathered soap over your skin. "You smell amazing," he whispered, his eyes meeting yours in the mirror.

The intimacy of the moment washed away any remaining insecurity from earlier, leaving only the warmth of his touch and the knowledge that you were exactly where you were meant to be.

Afterwards, wrapped in towels, you curled up on the couch, the salty scent of the ocean clinging to your skin. Gojo pulled out a movie, something light and romantic, and you snuggled into his side. "Pick something we both love," you suggested, feeling the day's tensions melt away.

His arm was a warm band around you, and his laugh was a soothing balm to your spirit. As the credits rolled, you looked up at him, your heart full. “Thank you for today,” you said, your voice thick with emotion.

He kissed the top of your head. “Always, my love. Always.”

The world outside could wait. For now, all you needed was the warmth of Gojo’s embrace and the promise of forever.

As the final credits danced across the screen, Gojo turned off the TV, the room bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight that streamed through the open blinds. He pulled you closer, his arm tightening around your waist. You nestled your head into the crook of his neck, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath your cheek. His scent, a mix of saltwater and sand, was comforting, a reminder of the carefree hours spent at the beach.

"I love nights like this," you whispered, tracing patterns on his back.

He smiled against your hair. "Me too. They remind me of how lucky I am to have you."

You felt his thumb tracing idle patterns on your arm as his other hand found yours, lacing your fingers together. Your breathing synced with his, lulling you into a peaceful tranquility. It was moments like these that made you feel invincible, as if nothing could ever break the bond that you shared.

“Do you remember our first date?” Gojo’s voice was a gentle whisper, breaking the silence like a soft wave against the shore.

You smiled, the memory as vivid as the day it had happened. “How could I forget? The way you looked at me, like I was the only person in the room.”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest. “I knew then that you were special. And every day since then, you’ve proven me right.”

Your heart swelled with affection, his words resonating deep within. You sat up, turning to face him, your gaze searching his eyes. “And do you remember what you said to me that night?”

Gojo’s expression grew contemplative for a brief moment before his eyes lit up with recollection. “I said that I’d do anything to protect you, no matter what curses the world threw our way.”

“And you have,” you whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek. “Every single day, you’ve kept that promise.”

He leaned into your touch, his eyes filled with a love so profound that it stole your breath away. “And I always will,” he murmured, before pressing his lips to yours in a kiss that was as warm and deep as the ocean itself.

The night grew late, the moon high in the sky, but neither of you made a move to go to bed. The pull between you was too strong, a magnetic force that didn’t care about the ticking clock or the responsibilities of tomorrow. As your kisses grew more passionate, you felt your fears and worries dissolve into the night. In this moment, there was only Gojo and the love that bound you together.

With a soft groan, he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. “I never want this to end,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

You brushed a strand of hair from his face, smiling through the mist of happiness that clouded your vision. “It never has to. We have an eternity of moments like this to cherish.”

He leaned in to kiss you again, his lips tender and reassuring. As you melted into the kiss, you knew that no matter what the future held, you’d face it together. Hand in hand, heart to heart, you’d conquer each new day, creating a love story that was uniquely your own.

And as you eventually drifted off to sleep in the safety of his arms, the sound of the waves from the beach carried through the open window, a lullaby that whispered sweet dreams and promised more days of joy, laughter, and endless love

[all-eyes-lead-to-the-truth]

All Eyes Lead to the Truth | Unruhe (4x04)

TW: CSA

The night he lost his sister was the first time he felt the howlers. When he opened the bathroom door and saw her seizing in the tub, he felt their hands grip his throat. In his rush to get to her, he tripped over the power cord that was running across the floor and over the lip of the tub. He tried to catch himself against the porcelain, but it caused some of the water to slosh onto his skin. The water burned and he felt a stabbing sensation behind his eyes. That’s when they entered his body, causing him to fly back as the black, smoky howlers danced around him in a thick, suffocating plume — that’s when they started taunting him.

You should have saved her.

His father said she was a Jezebel with a guilty conscience.

His Freud-loving doctors said suicide was common after paternal sexual abuse.

His howlers said it was all his fault.

The howlers never slurred their words and he never needed an appointment to hear what they had to say.

***

Sometimes it felt like he spent every day resisting their efforts to drag him to hell. He knows other people can hear them… can see them. His skin stung from their claws digging into his flesh. He can’t shake them no matter what he does. Maybe they’re a part of him by now, maybe they always were.

After all, if it was really just “schizophrenia” then why did his father have them too?

“I don’t know why I do the things I do, Gerry.”

“She looked so pretty… just like her mama used to.”

“Something inside me just snapped. I had to show her what her life of sin would lead her to. If she wanted to act like a woman, I needed to treat her like one.”

He usually only talked about his howlers after a few drinks, but Gerry could see the regret in his eyes. Howlers could be very persuasive, especially when it was impossible to drown out their voices.

Gerry knew the howlers were why his father would go into her room every night. He knew that was the only reason why a father would lust after their daughter, why a man would seek release in a child.

You can save him.

He raped her.

He liked it.

Avenge her.

It was the howlers that told him where to find the axe.

***

When he was in the institution, his roommate told him all about Rosemary Kennedy. An icepick to the corner of her eyes, and she became a new person. She went from troubled to happy in a moment. That’s what he wanted.

Gerry thinks that if he could just forget those memories, his life would be better. He loved his sister, not as much as Father did, but he got sad every time he thought of her. He just wanted to savor the happy memories of her singing around the house with her nightgown trailing behind her.

But he couldn’t forget. He was plagued with unrest. It wasn’t until he saw that first troubled young woman that he realized if he couldn’t save his sister, he could save other women who were suffering. 

He wished he had thought of the twilight sleep before the first one, maybe then she wouldn’t have been so scared. When the metal of his tool caught on the skin of her bottom eyelid while he pulled the rod out, she let out a guttural groan that sounded like a strangled scream.

“Wie fühlen Sie sich?”

Her attention locked onto him, but all the earlier fear was replaced with something that looked like contentment. Her mouth opened and closed like she was going to say something but forgot what it was before she could find the words.

Trying again, he asked: “How do you feel?”

“Adjuh-juh,” she slurred, glassy eyes looking around the room.

He waited, allowing her a moment to collect her thoughts. When she blinked, it looked like a strained effort, but she didn’t seem bothered, even as the movement caused little rivulets of blood to trail down her cheeks and onto the fabric of her nightgown. Her head lolled onto her shoulder, and the suddenness of it made her lips quirk into a small smile.

You saved her.

“Für Sie wird es keine Unruhe mehr geben,” he reassured.

She looked up at him, blinking slowly. “U-un-ru-”

***

His face twitched and he closed his eyes shut until the howlers faded against his eyelids, floating into a familiar face before laughing at him.

They’d been getting louder. He spent so much time trying to forget, but this FBI woman and her partner were only egging the howlers on. 

“Gerry, help!”

“Daddy, stop!”

“It’ll only hurt for a second, baby.”

The taste of iron in his mouth made him cringe as he soothed the bite mark on his inner lip with his tongue. He had to do this. He needed to save enough women to make up for all the times he pretended he couldn’t hear what was happening on the other side of the wall.

Gerry knew she needed his help the moment they met. There was a howler inside of her head — a black mass invading her body and mind.

“Aufhören! Ich habe keine Unruhe. Ich habe keine Unruhe. Ich brauche nicht gerettet zu werden,” the woman pled.

She doesn’t know.

“Yes you do. Everybody does, but especially you,” he stated firmly.

Ihre Unruhe bringt sie um.

Sie liegt im Sterben.

For the other women, he always feared he might make a mistake and end up hurting them, but she was different. Not because she had his sister’s eyes or because she could speak in his father’s tongue, but because he’d never seen such malignant, cruel howlers. She may not be able to hear them, but she was being consumed from the inside out. He needed to help her before it was too late.

Read the rest of All Eyes Lead to the Truth on Archive of Our Own

@gaycrouton

[selenekallanwriter]

WE FOLLOW THE STARS by Selene Kallan.

"I see coffers full of gold and diamonds as large as your fist, my liege," the fortune-teller said, her melodic voice otherworldly.

The king laughed, and his court followed, their drunken, slurred, false praise filling the stale air.

Emmy clutched the pitcher of wine to her stomach, back pressed against the wall, silently begging the goddess to protect Adrienne—the fortune-teller—from the whims of the King.

"More! Tell me more!" the King demanded. 

Dread coiled in Emmy's belly as Adrienne's eyes took on a ghostly glow.

"I see blood on stone and hear the vengeful cries of a starved kingdom," the fortune-teller said in a tremulous voice. "Your greed will be your downfall, my liege."

Deafening silence spread across the room. 

Emmy placed her hand above her thrumming heart. 

'What have you done, Adrienne?' she agonized.

The King's drunken good grace evaporated, face blotchy with fury as he ripped his meaty hand off the small, brown shaking hands of the fortune-teller.

"You have cursed me," he accused, his voice thunderous in the foreboding quiet. 

The fortune-teller stood on quivering legs, stepping back from the dais and shaking her head, dark curls swaying. 

"Guards! Arrest that sorceress!" he commanded.

No! Emmy wanted to scream, but her throat was tight with dread as she watched two burly guards dragging Adrienne away—her only friend, her heart.

"Please," Adrienne begged the King and his court. "There is still time. You can change your future if you rule fairly. Your people starve while you feast. You are the maker of your own demise. Can't you see?"

Emmy's hand flew to her neck, the feel of her collarbone under her palm one more reminder that Adrienne was right.

"Toss her into the dungeon!" the King snarled. "In the morning, she will burn!"

The Court roared their approval and launched insults at Adrienne until the massive doors closed behind her, resounding with the finality of the King's sentence.

"More wine!" the King barked.

Emmy approached with the pitcher, hands shaking as she poured the dark liquid. 

The faces of the court and the King spun around her in a kaleidoscope of sickening cruelty.  

But something burned within her, not the fire of despair, but the flame of bravery. Because she'd die before doing nothing to save Adrienne.

***

It was easier than Emmy believed. The guards didn't look at her as she poured them more drinks. They didn't notice her wild blue eyes barely hidden behind a curtain of dirty blonde hair. They tasted nothing wrong with the wine, laced with a sleeping draught. Didn't stir as Emmy took the keys from their belts.

Heart in her throat, Emmy unlocked the dungeon's entrance and ran to the furthest cell. Her hands shook as she fumbled with the keys.

The sound made Adrienne lift her head from her knees, her tear-streaked face full of surprise. "What are you doing?" she whispered.

"What does it look like?" Emmy asked dryly, finally unlocking the cell, marching in, and seizing Adrienne's wrist.

The fortune-teller's chocolate eyes widened. She pulled, trying to set herself free of the servant's grip. "No, Emmy, they'll kill us both. You can still live—"

Emmy stopped in her tracks in the middle of the dusty corridor, facing Adrienne. "I'd live. But would I feel alive if my heart dies?"

Adrienne sucked in a breath, heart swelling in her chest. 

Emmy gulped, not quite believing she'd dared to confess. Impending death could make you brave, she supposed.

Adrienne linked their fingers together, tears bright in her eyes. "Then let's go, my heart."

Emmy smiled, pulling Adrienne along the torch-lit corridor, her happiness shoved aside as male screams reached their ears—the guards were on their trail.

So they ran, faster than ever before, until they reached the bars separating them from freedom. Their half-starved frames fit through the iron rods, just as four burly men in armors reached them, cursing and grunting as they hit the bars with their swords.

The women ran further away, reaching the terracotta stone cliff overlooking the rolling sea.

"This way," Emmy said, pulling Adrienne along the precarious stone ledge that circled the mountain. The castle looked small on the very top. 

“Oh, goddess,” Adrienne muttered, dark eyes bright with fear.

"Do you trust me?" Emmy asked Adrienne, just as the sounds of whirring metal and heavy boots reached their ears.

Adrienne met Emmy’s gaze and took a deep breath. "With my life."

Hands entwined, they jumped, leaving the stupefied guards behind.

The water wrapped them in an icy embrace, trying to pull them apart. But, hands entwined, they fought against the current and swam to the shore. Their limbs were sore and heavy when they finally reached the white sandy beach. 

They lay there, in a heap of trembling limbs and shared body heat. The stars sparkled in the moonless sky.

"What now?" Adrienne dared to ask.

"We follow the stars," Emmy said.

Foreheads touching, they shared a kiss, lips cold and shaking with relief.

They had nothing but each other, and that was more than enough.

©We Follow The Stars, Selene Kallan, 2023.

[heisenbergresimp]

Little Mouse

A karl heisenberg X fem! Reader fanfic

NSFW Do not interact if you are under 18.

TW: Non-Con Play (but is in fact consensual), rough sex, degredation, bondage.

it was a chilly spring evening. the snow had just melted but the earth was still frozen under your feet. you had been late at a friend’s house, sipping tea and talking. so, you had failed to notice as the sun began to drop in the sky.

once you had seen what time it was you had grabbed your shawl, thrown it over your shoulders and headed out.

you lived on the outskirts of the village with your lover. it had made you a bit of an outcast in the village. some people looked upon you with disgust, while other looked at you with pity. but your friends and remaning family seemed to understand your choices.

you didn’t care, you were happy with your beau.

to get home you had to head over to the ceremony site. moving the large stone chalice -hidden nearby - over the Dias to take you down to where the bridge was. from the bridge it was just a short walk home.

Normally the bridge was empty, very few people had a way to get to the bridge, which meant the walk was quiet and peaceful.

except today. today a large man was leaning against the crumbling stone on the bridge smoking a cigarette. the village knew him as one of mother Mirandas four lords, her lieutenant. Lord Heisenberg.

you felt yourself talked a big gulp of air before deciding to scurry over the bridge.

"Now, now, now little mouse. where do you think your going, not even going to say hello" the man said, taking a drag on his cigarette.

"s-sorry lord Heisenberg, I’m just heading home"

"Home? oh you’re that girl who lives near here. going home to your lover aren’t you, surprised he isn’t here to make sure you get home safely. lot of bad men in these areas"

by now he had dropped the cigarettes, extinguishing the bud underneath his boot. you could see his eyes behind his glasses, predatory, like a wolf stumbling upon a rabbit.

"Thank you for your concern lord Heisenberg, but I’ll be fine"

you tried to turn away, to get away from the dangerous wolf but he stood to his full height and walked in front of you, blocking your exit. you couldn’t help but o looks up and see his smirk. "Oh, don’t leave yet, little mouse. not before the fun has begun"

you raised your knee into his crotch. oh, you were going to pay for that later, but no one could blame your gut reaction. he took a s step or two back his eyes wide, wondering if you had actually just tried to kick him in the nuts.

he chuckled "you didn’t think that would work, did you little mouse. you’re going to pay for that"

you tried to run past him, but he grabbed you and threw you to the ground. while getting on top making sure to pin you down by your hips. "Stop wriggling or 'ill tie you up"

you don’t listen, just try to scramble away. you can see him grow more frustrated as he keeps having to pull you back. eventually he grabbed your hands and pinned them over your head while a piece of metal flew overhead. the metal wrapped around your hands and dug into the ground.

now you were truly trapped to this beast of a man.

he leaned down, warmth breath sliding over your air. the cold spring air mixed with the warm breath made you shiver "Guess you’re all mine now pet, I wouldn’t try to yell. even if anyone could hear you, they wouldn’t save you"

he bit your ear, nibbling it for a second before moving down to your neck and then your shoulder taking bites and leaving bruises. you could feel a moan bubble up in the back of your throat and bit your lip to keep it in.

"Oh no, little mouse. don’t keep those moans in" he grabbed your bottom lip and pulled it out from your teeth.

eventually he got to your chest. instead of unbuttoning all of the little buttons he simply grabbed the collar and yanked. buttons flew everywhere while your breast became exposed to the cold air.

Normally he would have a smart-ass quip but instead he just leaned down taking one nipple into his mouth while using a gloved hand to manipulate the other before switching, making sure both stood to full attention.

"Mmm, stop, someone might see" You beg, its pathetic but you have to at least try

"Who cares, worry they'll see what a whore you are, writhing under me"

he doesn’t bother to take off of the rest of your clothes, just lift up your skirt and pull down your underwear. you can see the wet spot on your panties.

"Wet for me? I knew you were a slut"

you try to disagree but he grabs you thighs and pulls them apart so he can have an uninterrupted view of your rosebud before going down on you. his tongue circles your clit sucking and nipping while your hips buck.

despite the cold whether sweat begins to form as you push your pussy closer to his face. Like a man starved he dives in, his tongue circling your clit. He knows exactly how to manipulate the little pearl till you’re a moaning mess

just as you begin to see stars, he pulls away. but its too late, your orgasm still happens and he watches as your hole contracts around nothing.

" I think your pussy needs something to fill it pet. I got just the tool."

he's taking off his clothes, letting you see the dozens of scares that mar his skin, the salt and pepper body hair that trails over his chest and from his navel to his rod which is engorged.

"You- you can’t, Lord Heinsberg" you pant "My partner, he's expecting me home soon"

"Oh, but he can’t make you feel this good, can he? now be a good slut and take me in."

he's on top of you now, lining up and entering you. you feel the metal binds on your arms fall away allowing you to wrap your arms around his shoulders. "Hold tight doll" is the last thing he says.

your sex turns animalistic, grunts and pants and moans as he pulls in and out of you, the occasional swear from his lips. you feel him move in and out of you, finding rhythm. in your ecstasy you indent your nails on his back and scratch.

at one point he flips you till you on your hands and knees and he behind. then he thrusts again taking you like a bitch in heat. he gets rougher and rougher, pulling your hair and forcing your head up so he can give you a bruising kiss.

his movement gets jerky but he reaches round and plays with your clit again so that you can cum.

his hips are moving frantically and every nerve in your body is alight with pleasure.

you come first milking his rod. he swears before giving you every last drop of his cum.

you collapse to the ground, feeling the cold stone underneath your face while he sits on his ass behind you.

a few moments passes and you feel him drape his trench coat over you. "Good girl, didn’t even use the safe word once" he says, wrapping his coat around you and lifting you up and on his lap.

"You okay, I didn’t mean to kneel you in the balls"

he chuckles "I’m fine, hot damn you were amazing. you played the helpless village girl to a tee"

"wasn’t hard, I played her for years before coming here"

sure, you had not one but two intense orgasms, and normally you wouldn’t want to get up from Heisenberg’s embrace, but today you were covered in dirt from the bridge.

"We should go home; I need a shower"

"Well let’s head back" he said lifting you up, bot even caring he was buck naked. "Keep this party going somewhere a bit warmer".

[thefloorisbalaclava]

I had a dream about fishing last night (and I hate fishing) but it made me think of mechanic Frankie taking reader up to his secret cabin that he owns that they had no idea about for a first real weekend getaway, just them, and reached them how to fish. And he’s sitting there relaxing looking over at them and just thinking “wow, I get to be this happy again.” 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Pairing: Francisco ‘Catfish’ Morales x F!Reader

Warnings: You check Frankie out quite a few times in this, kissing, we’re getting there (if you know what i mean), Frankie doubting himself. Also please don’t kill me for the ending. I have another ask I’m saving it for.

The girl scout story in this fic is completely true lol.

A/N: This got a little longer than I expected clocking in at a little over 2.5k but it’s all just fun and flirty and a little sexy too.

[mechanic!frankie masterlist]

Frankie was proud of himself. After years of being single, of not even dating, he was a boyfriend and a damn good one if he went by what you told him. You loved all the dates and places he took you, but there was one place he still hadn’t shown you. He was afraid to.

He wanted to take you away for the weekend, but he was afraid that it was too soon to ask you for something like that. He didn’t want to scare you away by asking you to join him at his cabin this weekend. Maybe you would think that he wanted something from you. Yes, that something. The thought alone made his face get hot and he quickly pushed it from his mind. It wasn’t what he wanted from you at all even if you two were up there alone. Just waking up beside you sounded nice.

“Frankie, are you okay?” you asked, nudging him gently. “Your ice cream is melting.”

He looked down. “Oh!” He quickly brought the cone to his mouth and licked the mess from the side of the cone and his hand. You looked away, pretending to be distracted by the birds in the sky.

“Something on your mind?” You looked at him out the corner of your eye to make sure his tongue was back in his mouth. When you saw that it was, you turned to him and touched his thigh for reassurance.

“No...well, yeah, but...uhhh...” He sighed and looked down at his ice cream again. “There’s something I want to ask you.”

“Well, ask me.” You waited with bated breath. When he didn’t speak, you checked your watch. “You’re gonna have to head back to the garage soon. You wanna talk about it later?”

“No. If I don’t do it now then I never will.” He took a deep breath and looked you in the eye. “Would you maybe want to...go away this weekend? W-With me?”

“Go away? Where?” you asked excitedly.

“I have a cabin near the lake. Maybe we can...fish and stuff,” he said nervously. “You don’t have to. I know this is weird. I shouldn’t be asking you to go away with me so soon and-”

“I’d love to go,” you told him then licked your ice cream. His eyes wandered to your lips then back up to your eyes. He was quiet until he realized what you said.

“Wait...what?”

“I said I want to go to your cabin this weekend. I need a little getaway. It will be nice to really have you to myself,” you said. You squeezed your eyes shut. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It sounds selfish.”

“Selfish? I’m flattered,” he chuckled. “You can be as selfish with me as you like.”

You turned to him again. “I can’t wait to see your cabin.”

“I can’t wait to show you.”

It had been so long since Frankie had been up to his cabin with someone. After his wife died, he rarely made the drive and when he did, it was to be alone. He would sit there and wallow the entire time, missing her, missing what he had. Now he had you—someone to share it with and happy to do so.

He waited by your door as you scrambled around grabbing a few more things. You finally walked over to him, bag in hand, and smiled. “I think I’m ready now.”

“I’ll take that for you.” He took the bag you were holding, sneaking in a quick kiss as he did.

“Thank you, sir.” You walked out side-by-side and he carefully placed your bag in the back of his truck.

“It’s a little over an hour away. I hope you don’t mind long drives,” he said as he climbed into the truck.

“Are you kidding? I love long drives.”

He beamed at you. How did he get so lucky to find someone who loved the things he did again? Better yet, what did he do to deserve this again? He put on his aviators and started the truck as you sat back and smiled out the window.

On the drive, Frankie discovered that he would never hear a better sound than your laugh. He would never tire of the way your voice went up a few octaves when you got excited. No one had made him smile that way in so long.

“Oh my God, babe look...horses!” You grabbed his arm excitedly. He wondered if you realized you had called him babe.

“I see ‘em,” he chuckled. You turned to him and looked him up and down. “What?”

“I like that shirt on you.” Your eyes trailed down to his neck and bit of exposed chest since he hadn’t buttoned the shirt up completely. The shirt was black with what looked like palm trees and water patterned all over. He had the sleeves rolled up, so you got a good look at his forearms as well. You realized that you had been ogling the poor man and quickly looked up only to see a smirk on his lips.

“I can buy you one just like it if you want,” he offered.

“Nah, I’d rather just see it on you.” Since when were you so flirty?

Frankie had never felt better about himself. As he carried the bags into the cabin, he couldn’t stop smiling. He stopped to look at himself in the mirror as you looked around outside. The shirt did fit him pretty well and the undone buttons gave him sort of a bad boy look. He pushed the aviators up onto his head and winked at himself.

“Frankie!” you called, and he jumped, clearing his throat as you walked into the cabin.

“Yeah?”

“It’s so beautiful up here.” You ran into his arms and hugged him. “Thank you for bringing me.”

He smiled as he put his arms around you. “Thank you for letting me.”

“So...fishing first?” you asked, pulling back to look into his eyes.

“Yeah, if you want. You don’t want to rest first?”

“Nope. I wanna see everything.” You walked back outside and waited for him. “Are we walking to the lake?”

“Sure, just let me grab the stuff. By the way, I didn’t stop for bait so we might have to dig for our own,” he warned.

“Okay! Need me to carry anything?”

“No ma’am.”

You watched as he grabbed the fishing poles and then reached for something higher up. You had no idea what it was because you were too busy ogling the man again—the little bit of his lower back that was exposed as he reached up, the way the shirt stretched over his shoulders and back, the sinew of his tanned forearms.

“You coming?” he asked, and you blinked a few times.

“I-what? I mean, yeah.” You had to take a few quick steps to catch up to him so that you could walk beside him. You both kept catching each other staring before looking away, laughing. When the lake came into view, you gasped.

“Like it?”

“It’s perfect, Frankie.” You glanced back at him happily and he smiled.

“Before we do anything else, we gotta get bait. Good thing it rained a few days ago.” He placed the fishing rods down gently on the dock before walking back and looking under rocks and digging in the dirt for worms. “There’s a bunch over here,” he called, and you ran over holding a few of your own.

“Got some too.” You placed them in the small bucket Frankie carried.

Once you both had enough, Frankie walked out onto the dock and kicked off his shoes and socks before rolling his jeans up. You did the same then closed your eyes and inhaled deeply. The air was so clean and fresh.

“Do you know how to fish?” he asked.

“Well, at Girl Scouts camp we used to find long, sturdy sticks and tie fishing line to them then tie on the hook. One time, we couldn’t find worms, so I playfully took some bread and put that on the hook, and I actually caught a fish!”

“Girl Scouts camp, huh? How long ago was that?” he joked.

“Hey!” You nudged him as he laughed. You loved making him smile and laugh just to see that dimple—the deepest dimple you had ever seen.

“Well, would you like me to show you how to use a fishing rod?” he asked, and you nodded. “Okay...do you mind if I...” He moved behind you and put the fishing rod in your hand.

“N-No, I don’t mind.” You could feel his warmth radiating against your back. With each breath he took, you could feel his chest and stomach move against you.

“Right...so...” His voice was so close to your ear, you wanted to turn so badly but then his lips would be right there, and it would be so tempting. “Get yourself a good grip.” He guided your hand and squeezed it lightly. “Like so...”

“Okay,” you breathed.

“Stay just like that.” He moved away and you already missed his warmth. He knelt to put a worm on your hook then stood behind you again. “Pull back nice and slow and...” He moved your arms back with his then swung forward expertly. “There we go.”

“Now what?”

“Now we wait.” He wrapped his arms around you and the dock swayed with the water, making you both sway along with it. It was relaxing and comforting and what made it even better was that his arms were around you.

You wished you two could stay that way forever.

You stomped into the cabin, pouting like a petulant child.

“Sweetheart, there’s no reason to be upset. Even pros don’t catch fish all the time,” he said, kicking off his boots by the door.

“But...I wanted to,” you complained. When you turned to him, he was grinning. “It’s not funny.” But it was and you both started laughing.

“Maybe next time,” he told you.

“Next time? You wanna bring me again?” you asked.

“Yeah, of course.” He stood there looking at you and you at him. How many times were you going to stare at him today? “Still like this shirt on me?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” you murmured as you made your way over to him and kissed him. Hard. He made a sound of surprise but kissed back in earnest. He held you close, his soft lips claiming yours. You made him stumble backwards until he hit one of the wooden columns in the middle of the room. He grunted and his hands moved slowly to your lower back. Your fingers tangled in his curls, and you pressed your body against his even more.

Frankie couldn’t remember the last time he had been kissed that way or even wanted to kiss someone that way. Your body fit so perfectly against his that he had quietly wondered if you were made for him. He’d never forget the way you gasped against his lips when his hands slid under your shirt and touched that soft skin for the first time. He’d never forget how your lips looked as you pulled away and just looked at him before slowly moving your thumb along his lips.

“You have...lovely lips,” you told him before kissing him again.

He was feeling things he hadn’t felt in so long and... he was embarrassed. As you pulled away to kiss along his jaw and down his neck, he felt as though he would stop breathing.

“Wait...wait...,” he breathed, and you stopped immediately.

“I-I’m sorry, Frankie.” You backed away, looking down at the floor.

“I just...I need some air.” He swallowed hard then walked past you and out the door. He took a deep breath then cursed quietly as he kicked at a rock in front of him. “You fucking idiot.”

You walked upstairs full of regret. You had initiated that kiss and it had made him so uncomfortable that he had to leave the cabin.

As you showered, you thought of all the ways you could make things right again if he even wanted to keep seeing you after this. That thought scared you the most. You didn’t want to lose Frankie, but you couldn’t help but think that maybe you did.

It was a good thing you had separate rooms because that would give him the space he needed away from you. You were so embarrassed, so ashamed of yourself. You made sure to stay in the room for the rest of the day, settling into bed when the moon was high in the sky.

As soon as you closed your eyes, Frankie knocked on your door and you sat up. “Yes?”

“May I come in?” he asked.

“Sure.” You rolled out of bed and threw a hoodie on over your pajamas. The door opened and Frankie stood in the doorway, filling it with his broadness. “Come in.”

“I’d like to explain myself,” he started.

“Frankie, you don’t have to do that. I overstepped and I apologize.”

“Overstepped? No, I just got nervous. I panicked. It’s been so long since I felt...that way. I was embarrassed, still am. But I appreciate that you stopped when I needed you to.” He smiled and you nodded.

“Of course I did. I would never want to make you uncomfortable.”

“It wasn’t that I was uncomfortable.”

“Oh?”

“I just knew what it would lead to and...it’s been so long for me. I don’t want to disappoint you,” he admitted. His face was on fire.

“Disappoint me? You could never do that, Frankie.” You moved closer to him slowly.

“The truth is that I feel like I need to learn how to do that all over again and I should know, you know? I was married. Three years though...” He shook his head.

“There’s no rush. I’d be happy just having you hold me until I fall asleep.”

He scoffed at himself. “I don’t deserve you.”

“You do.”

This time he walked up to you and kissed you. “I want to be worthy of you,” he said against your lips.

“You are.”

“I want...to make love to you,” he confessed.

You pulled away and looked him in the eye. “You can...” He kissed you again before you could speak. When he stopped, you spoke. “...but only if you are comfortable. Remember, there’s no rush.”

“Can we just take it slow, take our time?” he asked.

“Of course we can.”

“Thank you,” he said before kissing you some more. You don’t know how long you two stood there just kissing, all you knew was that you could do this every day for the rest of your life. “So...I may be a little rusty, but I’m pretty sure I’d like to be doing this in bed. If that’s okay.”

You grabbed his hand and led him to the bed. You both sat on it and looked at each other before laughing. “Are you sure?”

“Yes.” He cupped your face with one hand. “I’m ready.”

frankie taglist: @strangelittlenobody @ithinkimhardcore @damerondala @arellanofelixboys @skvatnavle @tobealostwanderer @surfsup666 @gingib @paperbag33 @anothersherlockian @grogusmum @lestradeslover @lazybeeches @shameless-h @over300books @pinkrosethorne @petty-as-usual-darling @icanbeyourjedi @findhimfives @djvrins @queridopascal @sweet-black-magic @tayloramato @ks04 @hnv-escape @linnie0119 @hb8301 @the-bird-suit @barnes-and-bitch @noromeojuliet @slugbuggie @astoryisaloveaffair @swol-bear @jeeperky @littlefairygirlx @appleheard @allthingsnarcos @darlingdin @hunnambabe @triggerhappyflygirl @stardust-galaxies @fuck-goes-on @dwarfplanet69 @the-page-mistress @mikahowl @dandywinchesterbras @xserenax-13

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*If your url is crossed out its because tumblr won’t let me tag you for some reason. sorry!

[voidstilesplease]

xenogenesis

word count: >1k words | tags: extraterrestrials (mention), a questionable negotiation, aliens have invaded Earth and are possessing human bodies to survive, nods at Meyer's The Host

Theo hisses under his breath as he collides against a wayward trolley cart, sending some of its contents – a stainless steel tray full of unused syringes and blood vials – clattering and rolling across the sterile floor of the long corridor. Stiles doesn’t even glance over his shoulder at the noise and continues walking further away from Theo.

Theo swears. One guess on who arranged the trolley exactly along the path of anyone who turns the corner, in perfect position for a collision. Stiles is many things, and little shit is most of them.

“You won’t get there in time to stop the extraction!”

“And your shorter limbs can’t catch up to me in time to stop me.” Stiles angrily replies without pausing or looking back. “We all know the cryopod is barely fixed to sustain the Soul once extracted, so I don’t know what the fuck got into your heads to make this decision. Its best chance is staying inside its host,” Stiles makes a sharp turn to the left, and Theo groans as he picks up his pace once more. Stiles's furious voice carries even with his body out of view. “So, keep the human host alive to keep it alive. We are not killing my subject today.”

It’s too late to break his momentum when Theo turns the same corner hot on Stiles’s trail and walks straight into a portable lab coat rack this time, smacking the bridge of his nose against a steel rod.

“Motherfu –“ he curses, rubbing his injured nose. Having had enough of Stiles’s petty stunts, Theo growls and shoves the rack aside, unmindful of where it ends up, and shouts at Stiles’s retreating form. “I have already agreed to host it!”

A telltale squeaking of shoes halting mid-step echoes around the hallway following Theo’s statement. There’s a second of pause before Stiles whips around, whole body, mouth hung open and eyes bulging out of the sockets. Despite his raging jealousy, Theo crosses his arms and smirks in victory. Stiles has always boasted about being able to predict Theo’s next moves because in Stiles's words: 'he’s surviving on exactly one brain cell'. Not too predictable now, is he.

Spiteful, he watches as Stiles cries in his outrage and barrels over to him in long, fuming strides. It’s true that Theo can’t catch up to Stiles. It’s much more satisfying to reel him back in, anyway.

“Are you insane?” Stiles hisses up at Theo’s face when he gets close enough. “We spent years fighting them, doing our best to save as many human hosts as possible, protecting our bodies from becoming their possession. And you’re just giving yours willingly?”

“Oh, come on, Stiles.” Theo scoffs, shaking his head in scorn. He lets his arms fall to the side and sneers. “Aren’t you happy to hear you’re not going to lose your extraterrestrial boyfriend?”

Stiles narrows his eyes dangerously. Slowly, but with an obvious warning in his tone, he says, “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

With venom in his smile, Theo closes their distance by another step. “You know precisely what I mean,” Rage builds inside Stiles’s eyes when he catches the knowing look from Theo. He starts shaking his head in disgust, but Theo doesn’t back down now that he’s got the attention he wants. “Sympathizing with your ‘subject’ is one thing, Stiles, but engaging it sexually? That is too random, frequent, and passionate to be related to your goal to assess your 'androgyne theory'? You’re fucked up.”

“You’re fucked up,” Stiles retorts hotly, nostrils flaring at Theo. “What, have you been watching?”

Theo scoffs, “You’re fucking the alien inside your lab, Stilinski, in a compound full of your fellow insurgents. You’re not exactly the epitome of discretion.”

“So, what’s this?” Stiles grits his teeth, losing his composure. “Are you going to use what you know to blackmail me?”

“I said,” Theo enunciates, slowly, to make his point. “that I will host the Soul when its current body dies – and we both know it will. It won’t be able to repress me like what it did to its present host – you made sure of that. We will cohabitate, like what your research always meant to test. I’m giving full consent. So, where is the blackmail in that?”

Stiles looks shell-shocked for a moment but quickly regains his faculties enough to accuse Theo again, “I know you,” he hisses in loathing. “Too well for my own good, Theo. You’re not helping Derek out of the kindness of your heart. You want something. So, tell me, huh. What’s in it for you?”

Derek. Theo wants to gag. He’s even addressing it with the name it chose for itself upon its initial inhabitation of the host body instead of the serial code tattooed on the left wrist of each Soul-possessed human host. Stiles is gone on this invader. And if Theo didn’t intend to use that to his benefit, he’d have puked from revulsion. But considering his less than noble intentions, he can’t really pass judgment. Because from the same terrain or not, they’re all creatures of habit – selfishness is the way of life.

“Well,” he starts, lightly brushing his thumb along Stiles’s jaw. He enjoys how it ticks under his finger. “You’re in love with a bodiless Soul, and I’m in love with you –“

Stiles sucks in a sharp breath.

steo a-z: part 24

“Use me to get what you want to give me what I want.” Smiling winningly, Theo concludes, “It’s a win-win situation, wouldn’t you say?”

***

[xgryffinwhore]

mama i’m in love with a hitman

summary: two years with barry what could go wrong? oh yeah hes a murderer-

warnings: some angst, marriage proprosal oop-

you had originally begun acting because it was the only affordable option to get you some time away from your family. ya, you still lived with your family.

anyways, acting became kind of like a release for you. you had been going for about 4 months now, you loved everyone you worked with, they were such great people.

then one day, barry berkman showed up,

and basically changed your life.

the first day you saw him, your heart basically feel out of your ass. holy shit was this guy hot; tall, mysterious, and awkward as hell. perfect.

you took him under your wing, immediately engaging with him and bugging him about his person endeavors and whatnot. you two became inseparable, youre bascially the only reason he even uses his messaging app.

you showed him the ropes of LA, giving him tours of sketchy venues, shitty Chinese restaurants. you always felt so awful for him, dragging him around to every place.

"I'm sorry, barry, im just trying to give you the full LA experience"

"its ok, being seen with the prettiest girl in LA isnt so bad"

yeah, one thing led to another, and you had moved into barry's apartment a year after. your relationship was strong; you cuddle, argue, fuck, all of that modern day romance contraband.

everything was exceptional, other than the fact that he was dragging his feet on marrying you...

yeah, you had dropped some major hints. wedding magazines everywhere, leaving honeymoon deals up on the desktop, evening face timing your friend and talking obnoxiously loud about the idea of getting hitched.

tomorrow was your two year anniversary, and you two had been buzzing about it all week, all the lovey dovey language and such.

"babe, tomorrows the day" he squeezed your shoulders from behind you. you were sitting at the coffee table, and he had just served you toast. "i know old man, didnt think we'd last did ya?" "first of all, im only like four years older than you, second" he kissed you on your temple "i knew you were the one."

in the midst of sipping your coffee and passing back and forth news papers, barry’s phone begins to vibrate; the name “Fuches” catches your eye. who was fuches and why did barry have to step out of the room to answer it?

when he came back he looked ghostly, his complexion pale and his lips quivering slightly. “all ok?” you ask, trying to sound lowkey; “uh um- yep. just have to head out for a bit, they need me at work.”

he left abruptly after, grabbing a hat and his black coat. weird. it was the middle june.

you hadn’t heard from him all day, except for a text at lunch that said

barry: Won’t be home tonight, dont forget to lock up.

your heart sunk, the day before your two year. i mean really what was his damage? you didn’t realize how hard it was to fall asleep without him, you tossed and turned until you eventually caved in and called.

ring...... ring.....

ring..........ring......

‘hey! it’s barry berk-uh um block! leave a message if you want to i guess um ok bye howthefuck do i turnthisthing off-OHH!’

oh how you missed that dorky man, true, it had only been a few hours but his touch was your saving grace. the line beeped and you decided to leave him something

“aha hey bar, y/n here. beds cold without you. miss you. be safe.”

the night way cold and long, you were drifting to sleep. but you heard the front door jangle. you sleepily run down the hall way and run straight into barry. you hugged him, his bosy was stiff and he was trying to inch away from you. "bar!" you whined looking up at him, his nose was bloody and he had a black eye.

“bar?” you wiped his cupid’s bow, the sleepy haze quickly wearing off. he pushes past you “just fell, please just wait for me in bed.” by the time you caught up with him at the bathroom, the door was already shut.

you heard the shower turn on, and you could hear him faintly hiss in pain. he was in there for a while, by the time he got back you could hear the birds chirp, which means it must have been close to 5 am. the sun was still down, and you watch his dark figure slip into bed next you to.

“i love you.” he whispered

“i love you too.” you turned to face him, you knew something was up, you knew he had been hiding something.

“you always leave in the night, when i’m sleeping you always leave barry. is it another women?” barry’s face contorts into a confused scribble. “y/n what? you’re the only one.”

“then why don’t you tell me what you’re really up to. go’s we’ve been dating for two years and you can’t even tell me why you sneak away in the night?!”

barry grabs your hands and puts them close to his face “god y/n i’m sorry happy two years” he gushed and kisses your fingers. a tear trailed down his stubbly cheek. “there are just things i can’t tell you because i don’t want to lose you.”

this hurt you, barry knew all of your deepest secrets, the things you never told anyone other then him. all of this had you worked up, how could he speak to you this way the day of your two year mark? despite his protests, you packed a tooth brush and drove to your friends to stay the night. this was just too much for 3am, you needed space. to clear your head.

you didnt sleep at all that night, you nodded off from 8am to 10, your friend waking you up. "girl i know you dont want to hear this... but barry is outside, hes been parked here since 9" she threw your jeans at you "now go outside and work this shit out, im not prepared to deal with your heart boken ass."

so you put on jeans, and headed for disaster.

you came outside, 'sleepy always looks so good on her' barry thought to himself. you loved him so much, it was so hard to fight with him.

"listen bar, im sorry im just sensitive you know th-"

"y/n"

barry never interrupted you. for as long as you remember there has never once been a time where barry talked over you, or interrupted what you were saying. its something you loved about him, he always seemed so interested in what you had to say, he thought your words where so important.

"yes?"

he pulled a rolled up magazine out of his pack pocket, it was yours, it had faded circles on what cakes and dresses you wanted. he unrolled it and scurried to the 5th page. he pointed at the big raise ranch that you put exclamation points next to.

"this house, i want this house."

he went to the 8th page.

"and this car, we could have that if i stop going to wendys so much"

he giggled to himself and mumbled something about how he knows a guy that can re pair a cooling system.

'uh-um ok barry, what does this have to do with anything? house, car, is this what you drove over here to tell me? you want a better car? you need a bigger house."

he shook his head and trialed to the second page with that beautiful sheath wedding dress, you remembered that.

"youll wear this yeah? some time in the early fall. wouldnt that be nice, still warm, and the leaves-oh the leaves- orange and yellow bring out your eyes so i just figured."

he pulled out the rock, and shit, it didn’t disappoint. you’re not materialistic but what the FUCK?! how did he even afford that-

he slipped it on your finger and you both embraced. messy kisses all over whatever skin you two could find. it was bliss, it was happiness.

you hugged for a while. just sat there reflecting on how far you two had come, and how happy he was going to make you feel for the res rod your life. it’s crazy, you thought marriage wasn’t in the cards for you. but with barry, you can see 5 kids, a dog, and a stupid picket fence.

you were so captured in this moment, you didn’t notice barry’s demeanor change. you looked up and him, he was pale white, staring behind his shoulder at the street. you leaned over his forearm and saw a beat up mom car.

in it was a shaggy dude, didn’t look too much older then barry. he was plump in the face, and his face was aged.

“fuches!?” barry exclaimed.

“come on. we have a hit, i habe your sniper in the back. now.”

another WHAT?

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

I wrote this the other idea. And then a thought happened.

Enjoy.

Gender Neutral Reader Insert

_____________________

“I’m going to take you out.”

You hum in response, pulling at the last part of the cardboard box. The tape snaps, a soft pfft echoing. You bought new curtains for the kitchen. It was premature given that the curtains would only really go once the backsplash was done and the cabinets repainted. Your delay for both of those was Calum. Though you had painted cabinets before while helping a friend move into their place, Calum insisted that the two of you be the ones that redid the kitchen. Not just you.

The project inevitably got delayed. Calum dragged his feet on nonessential things and with things slowly moving back to normal, he was busier than ever with the band. So you understood--that took priority over cosmetic changes to the house. And you know that you couldn’t nag him into doing anything. So you poked him in a different way, buying the kitchen curtains that would only sort of match with the rest of the kitchen. It wouldn’t bother him at first. It would take a couple of weeks before he sighed, pulled out his old t-shirts and the sandpaper and paint that you had already bought.

Calum hums in your ear. “What do you say? We dressed up fancy too.” He punctuates the end of his sentence with a kiss on your neck.

“Fancy? And go where?”

“Oh, that’s for you to decide.” He rests his chin on your shoulder, but you don’t miss the way his arms snake around your torso.

“When did you want to go? This evening?”

“No,” he says and then drags his lips up your skin. “Right now.”

You chuckle, though the end of it is interrupted by a sigh, the tingles running down your spine. “There’s nowhere fancy to go in the middle of the afternoon. And why fancy?”

“Because you have that outfit in the back of the closet and I think it’s time to break it out.”

You originally bought it for your anniversary with Calum two years ago. But the pandemic through a major wrench into the plan. That one passed and so did another and you weren’t sure when you’d be able to wear it ever. But couldn’t return it because you adored it too much.

His lips are hardly touching your skin, but you feel electric. “You know, we could just make this easy,” you return, pushing your hips back into his. “Besides, you said you were waiting on a call.”

His teeth nip at your skin and the heat of his breathe trails up to your ear. It doesn’t shock you when his tongue teases the shell of your ear, but it does make a warmth spread through your stomach. “I can take the call anywhere.”

“Then take it from the bedroom.”

Calum laughs before pulling away completely. “Oh, I absolutely could. But I want to take you out. Because I know this week I’ve been holed up with writing and you deserve more of my time. And we’re dressing up. And you’re going to think of the place right now.”

Without the pressure of his weight holding you to the counter and the warmth of his kisses, you can think a bit clearer. Somewhere fancy to go in the middle of the afternoon felt insane. You turn, using the completely deconstructed box as a shield. “You’re a dangerous man when you wanna be,” you tease.

He smiles, a bit of a blush taking over his cheeks as he leans into the counter next to you. He makes a show of holding his arms to his chest. “I can behave. When I wanna.”

“When you want is so important. But I don’t feel like I’m getting less time. I know this record’s taking some extra TLC.”

“And my darlin’ deserves some TLC too. So c’mon. It can be anywhere. We’re just getting fancy is all I’m asking.”

“The only thing I can think of is a museum? Contemporary Art?”

Gently taking one of your hands, Calum presses a chaste kiss to the back of it. “I’d be honored. I’ll hang these curtains and then get ready.”

“Thank you. I’ll take Duke out.”

He nods and watches you, eyes taking in the length of you. “And I know the curtains are you trying to get me moving faster about the rest of the kitchen.”

“The only thing about the kitchen I want to hear is if it’s on fire or if you’re planning a day to remodel it.”

Calum shakes his head with a hiccup of laughter coming from him. Of course, you would. Of course. He grabs the stepstool you keep between the fridge. It’s not long before he gets the curtains switched out--thankfully the ones you bought fit on the rod already installed. The scratch of Duke’s paws coming closer to the kitchen alert Calum that you’ve gotten back inside.

“What if we do the cabinets on Saturday?” he asks, hearing the fridge crack open. He shakes out some of the creases in the last curtain.

“I’ll be disturbing you bright and early then.”

“Sounds lovely,” he returns, stretching up just a little to get the first part of the curtain onto the rod. Just as he steps down, a cup settles onto the counter in front of him. Water by the looks of it in the glass and then your feet shuffle down the hardwood floors.

You and Calum manage to get finished at about the same time getting dressed. But it doesn’t get past you that a few buttons on his dress shirt are not all the way done as he moves to pass you to grab shoes from the closet. “Sir, I don’t know what you’re playing, but those few buttons are playing with fire,” you tease getting the last of your outfit into place.

“Look who’s talking,” he laughs but steps back over to you. “Hmm, everyone warned me about you.”

“Warned you about me?” This is the first time you’re earring of anyone having a problem with you.

He nods. “They told me I’d fall in love.” The rapid rate of your heart starts to slow.

“Well, did you?”

“Do you not see me dressed to the nines just to take you out? I am whipped.”

Cupping his jaw, you press several chaste kisses to his lips. “Good. I ordered our tickets--so we don’t have to wait in any line.”

“Ah, I knew I found a good one. Thank you.”

“Uh-huh. You’re welcome.”

With Calum’s shoes on, and the tickets saved on your phone, the two of you head out. The drive to the museum feels much too short--between you belting out the songs on the radio and the laughter--you’re not even thinking about the fact that you’re about to head to an art museum dressed like you’d go to an award show with Calum. You hadn’t been to many of those, opting at the beginning of your relationship to hang back from that world.

“Why do this?” you ask softly right as the songs change. The radio host advertises something, you’re not sure what, but you can hear their voice excited as they talk.

Calum takes a brief second to glance at you. “What do you mean? I thought I answered that.”

“No, no, you did. But I don’t know. I’m just shocked.”

It goes silent for a moment. You hear the soft squeal of the tires and you know Calum should’ve taken his car to the shop a month ago, but again, he dragged his feet on some things. But you don’t think to say anything, not now at least.

“You mentioned it,” Calum starts, turning his gaze away from the red light. “When we first started dating, you mentioned that you wanted to get dressed up one day and just go somewhere--it didn’t matter where. But you wanted to go on a date and get fancy and go to a random place in the middle of the afternoon like it was a movie. And I thought and I thought and I even asked the guys where to take you but none of them knew. And then I had this whole plan for our anniversary to get dressed up and go the park. But I got scared and changed it to dinner because I didn’t want to ruin your fantasy. We have lists of them and we make them up all the time. But this one mattered.”

“They all matter. That’s why we create them, that’s why we write them down.”

“But this one mattered to you. There are plenty that we do together. But this one mattered specifically to you and I knew I couldn’t just give up on it.”

Your mouth hangs open for a second and then the car lurches forward, you fall back into the cushion of the seat just a hair but then regain your balance. “You told me once that you missed when you and your sister would sneak these biscuits after dinner. And your mother always knew you two were doing it. So I bought some and put them on the highest shelf. Because that’s where your stash is and I never wanted you to run out so every couple of weeks I do a second trip to the grocery store to buy them. And I’m not sure when you realized I was buying them because at one point there were two and three packages on that shelf, which I knew meant you didn’t know I was buying them. But now there’s only ever the package that I buy.”

“I’ve known for months now, love. I didn’t say anything but honestly, I liked it. But I will admit I’m shocked you didn’t stop once you realized it.”

“I kept doing it because I wanted to give you a tiny piece of home. It’s crazy I know. But I try.”

“I am home. With you.”

“I know, but like your childhood. The things that no one really knows but you and what you’ve decided to share with me. I want to bring that to you.”

“Baby, I-I don’t need that. I appreciate it. I know you feeding me until I become round is your love language but I am more than satisfied to create new things with you.”

“Your trainer cancels out all my attempts. You, sir, will keep your toned abs and biceps for at least another twenty years.”

“Only twenty?”

You laugh, leaning over the console to kiss his cheek. “Once you marry me, baby, you’re getting happy weight and I won’t stop.” The sentiment is punctuated with a pat to his stomach. The only thing Calum can do is laugh.

“I look forward to it.”

“Oh, so you agree, you are going to marry me?”

Calum never thought he’d get here. Not pulling into the parking lot of a museum with the love of his life, dressed in clothes he only really reserved for the stage, a heartbeat away from admitting, “Yes. I am agreeing that I am going to marry you.”

The moment lingers for a beat, then two and Calum’s heart is racing because this isn’t how he had planned on asking. Shit, he thought he’d need another six months before he’d have the guts to even admit it to the boys. But right now, it just feels so right to admit. Your arms are winding around his neck and he’s leaning as far as his still buckled seatbelt will allow him. And you’re kissing him and he’s inhaling your laughter. And somehow the most backward-ass things feel the best.

“You-I need to get you a ring. I was going to do this all differently,” Calum rushes out, holding onto your cheeks. His head shakes, eyes wide. “I swear I was going to do this all differently.”

Your smile is blurry in his vision. But he hears your laughter. “I don’t need it any other way.”

You wipe the tears from his cheeks. “Now, can we please go look at the pretty art with my soon-to-be husband on my arm?”

“Of course.”

The air of the museum is cold and it chills you for a second but it’s coupled with the fact that Calum’s thumb is stroking the back of your hand. The two of you glance at each other, wide grins and giggles falling from your lips. It’s a wonder, as the two of you stroll through the museum. You in front, gravitating towards the brighter works and Calum follows, your pinkies hooked together to keep you two from getting too separated from each other.

All he can do is stare, watch you and your ever-shifting gaze. You float over the floor of the museum as if your feet could never really fully touch the ground. And he’s powerless to it, the following the visible string pulling him to you. At your pause, Calum slides up behind you. His hands settle at your hips first briefly before he catches himself. “Yes, Cal?”

“Nothing.”

You cock your head to the side and then ever so slightly push back against his hips. “Just as I suspected. A lot of something. Approximately several inches in length.”

Calum barely holds the howl of his laughter in before spinning you around. “Do not ever--”

“Or what?” you ask.

“You know I’m not going ever taking you out in public again.”

You take a glance to the left and right, before slipping your hand between your bodies. You palm his length through his dress pants. “Oh what a shame,” you state and then step away to a sculpture.

Calum exhales hard at the action and takes a moment to steel himself before following after you. The teasing continues on back and forth, him passing in front of you and feeling you over the material of your clothes, gently brushing his hands on the back of your neck.

Calum moves to another room and you watch him go for a minute before following behind him. The shivers of his still nibbles on his ears rocked you more than you anticipated. Sliding up behind him, you encase your arms around his torso. “You sir, are just begging for us to get kicked out.”

His small chuckle is interrupted by the buzz of his phone. Calum reaches into his pocket and sees the numbers. He glances around and slides to answer the call. “Calum speaking,” he whispers. You step away and point out a sign pointing to some restrooms. Calum smiles at you, kissing your forehead, and then heads over that way.

You wait in the same area, not wanting to go too far in case the call is quick. You take your time looking at each piece in the room. It feels long but then you can hear the clack of dress shoes on the floor and turn to the sound of it. Calum returns, his face a little pensive.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, just--uh.”

“We can go if you need to. Is it work?”

“It’s just bullshit. Something bout a demo needing to be recorded. And I don’t--this is important to you. I don’t want to ruin that.”

“One more room and then we can go back home.”

He takes your hands. “If we do one more room, I won’t have time to take you back home. I’m sorry.”

“Well, our fridge magnet collection needs another one. And I don’t mind if you have to drive to the studio and then I’ll take an Uber or something back home.”

“Or you could stay with me?”

“I’m not about to make life harder. C’mon. We got a fridge magnet to obtain.”

The gift shop is hardly busy. Calum takes a second to text the guys that he’ll be over to the studio soon. It’s not hard for you to pick a magnet. But you look at the postcards, all the colors. “Grab a handful, love. I see you eyeing them.”

You pick up a few and then head to the register. Calum seems to be distracted by something, but you don’t think too much of it as you pay. Especially since he seems to slide up right behind you. At the front of the shop, Calum warns it’ll be a bit of a drive so you scurry to the restroom.

The sun’s brighter than you anticipated and you squint against the sun as you walk back out into the parking lot. As you slide into the truck, you toss the magnet and card onto the back seats, on the blanket Duke lays on. And then another small bag lands on your lap. “What’s this?”

Calum says nothing as he buckles in.

“Oh don’t get all silent on me. Don’t you fucking dare.” You turn the back upside down and a box lands into your lap. Your heart races and then you realize it’s too small to be a ring box though it could be the right size. “Calum,” you sigh and crack it open. A small enamel pin stares back up at you. You laugh.

“You got me good that time.”

“I’ll do one better when it’s an actual ring.”

“I like gold,” you tell him, taking his hand gently and kisses the back of it.

“Trust, I am well aware.”

[itsthestutterforme]

Forgotten 1/2 (Supernatural)

Summary: Y/N commits suicide and the Winchester tried to cope with her death. Jack refuses to believe it so he brings her back to life. He thought things were fine until he realized Y/N didn't have any memories of them.

Warnings: mentions of depression and suicide. Make sure you check in on your friends and family. You don't know what they're going through and staying quiet about it.

Characters: Jack x reader, Sam x reader, Dean x reader, Castiel x reader, Henry Cavill as Ruben

--

The bunker sounded quiet and lifeless without Y/N there. The past few months, she's been going through a rough patch with her. One day, the Winchesters came back from a week long hunt to find her in the bathtub with her wrists slit.

Dean pulled out her of the tub and wrapped her in a bed sheet because he knew that Sam couldn't see Y/N like that. He also know that Sam didn't have the heart to bury her, but the image of her pale, lifeless corpse was forever seared in their brains.

This happened a few weeks after Jack killed Mary and they are barely holding themselves together. Y/N was like a big sister to Jack, and when Castiel told him what happened to her he was heartbroken. He snuck into the bunker before they burned her body and transported her to a random warehouse.

He hovered his hands over her and snapped his eyes shut to concentrate all of his power to bring Y/N back to life. After a few minutes, your body jolts up and you gasp for air. "Y/N?" Jack says excitedly.

Your Y/E/C scanned the room of broken windows and brick walls starting to detierate. Your eyebroes furrow when you see a young boy staring at you happily.

"I'm sorry but.. who are you?" You asks. His smile falls and his eyes saddened. "What? You dont know who I am?" You shake your head and add, "No idea." "I need to call Castiel," he says slowly. His jaw clenched as he eyes focused on a random spot on the bed. He reaches into his pocket for his phone and dials a number.

"Please stay here," "Who's Castiel?" You ask. "Someone you care about you. Just please stay here until we figure this out," he says, clearing in distress. "Okay." He walks towards the doorway but doesn't leave the room. "Cas, something went wrong." "Jack, what did you do?" A man with a low, scratchy voice says.

"Y/N is alive. I brought her back to life before they could burn her body," Jack explains. Burn my body? Was I murdered? Is he my killer? You think to yourself. "You what?" "She's awake now but she doesn't know who I am and I don't know what to do." Jack says all in one breathe. "Okay, where are you?"

"I don't know, some warehouse a few miles from the bunker." Jack answers. "I'm on my way, just keep an eye on her." Cas says before hanging up. Jack's gaze fall on you and your heart starts to race.

He makes his way towards you and sits back down on the chair. "Don't be nervous, Y/N. I would never hurt you. You're like a sister to me."

"What happened to me?" "I think Cas is better at explaining that than I am." You cross your legs and push your hair back so it's out of your face. "Can I lay on you?" He asks. "What?"

You barely even know this kid, but honestly, he does look like a kid. A kid that's been through a lot more than he should have, you give in.

You let out a slow sigh before scooting over on the bed. The bed creaks with every movement and you were surprised it didn't collapse under you.

Jack sits down next to you and lays his head where your shoulder and chest meet. A soft sigh leaves his lips and there was a moment of silence before you hear a sniffle.

"You okay?" You say, looking at him. "I really missed you, Y/N. You're really important to me and I'm sorry I could be there for you when you needed me." He croaks. "Jac-" "Jack!" Castiel's voice echoes through the warehouse.

Jack stands up from the bed and says, "In here." Cas follows the voice to the room and stops when he sees your laying there, staring at him.

You stand up from the bed too and Cas rushes over to you. He takes you into his arms and you stand there awkwardly, letting your arms dangle by your side. "She doesn't remember who you are, remember?" Jack says. Cas pulls away, wiping away some of his tears. "Right, I forgot about that. Sorry," Cas says to you.

"That's okay," you say with a soft smile. Cas matches your expression and his eyes fixated on yours, like he was having a conversation in his mind. "Her not remembering us may be for the best, Jack."

Cas looks over his shoulder at Jack. "What? No, I need her. We need her." Jack explains. "This life had already taken enough away from her. She needs her life back."

"You love her. How can you let her go?" "Sometimes, you can love someone so much that you know letting them go is what's best for them," "We just got her back." Jack says, on the verge of tears. My heart sank into your chest.

"Name the place, and we'll take you there with a snap of our fingers." Cas says, returining his gaze back you. You glance over a Jack and say, "A road trip doesn't sound like a bad idea."

"He's just a kid, Castiel. He needs emotional support," you add and a small smile tugged at his lips. "What?" "You're sounding to act a little but like yourself," he explains. You exchange a smile and Jack asks, "What about Sam and Dean?" "I'll handle it," Cas says.

**

It's been two months since Castiel and Jack dropped you off in Chicago. You had enough common sense to live in a city, and there was something drawing you to Chicago. But you have no idea what it was.

One night you were walking out of the subway to walk a couple blocks from your apartment. You were grabbed and dragged into an alleyway. A hand was pressed to your mouth and you stared into the eyes of a fairly attractive man.

His navy blue eyes search yours and he moved his plump, pink lips to whisper, "Don't say scream or making any noise. You're being followed."

He pulls his hand away and looks over at the sidewalk you were just walking on. His has a well groomed goatee and get black hair that is combed to the side in a thick swoop to the right.

He looked like a classic mobster. He even has the black trench coat and all and you eye him suspiciously. You look to the sidewalk with the shadow of a large figure grows closer.

Your heart is racing but nothing is telling you to run. Everything is telling you to fight. The man was still relatively close to you and not moving. "What are you doing?" He leans in closer and crashes his lips onto yours.

He cups your cheeks and tilts his head to the side to gain more access to your mouth. Your body plattens on the brick wall and footsteps walks passed the alleyway.

The man finally pulls away and you lift your leg to kick him away by the solar plexus. He falls flat on his back and you say, "What the hell was that for?" He up from the ground and said, "You're a tough broad, aren't you?" "Damn straight. You pull anything like that again and I'll do alot more than kick you."

You hear a woman's shrill and the hairs stand up on the back of your neck. You rush into the alley way and run towards the sound of her screaming. You slide to a stop to see a man trying to drag a woman I to the alleyway.Your eyes scan around for a weapon and you find an iron poker. Thank God you have your tetanus shot.

You keep a tight grip on the rod and swung the rod at the arm. The man grunts in pain and let's go of the woman. "Run," you command. She looked at me reluctantly. "It's alright." She shakes her head and says, "Girls support girls." She pulls out her pepper spray from her purse and we both turn our attention to the attacker.

He was still cradling his arm and when you take a step towards him. He stumbles backwards and says, "I-I'm not looking for any trouble." "Oh, I thin-"

"You okay, darling?" Your boyfriend, Ruben, asks. He walks up behind me and slides a hand down my arm. "Yeah, just think about how we first met," "Oh you mean when you kicked on my ass like a rag doll?" He teased as he sat down across from me.

"To be fair, you kissed me randomly and I didn't know who you were. And the guy that attacked Y/F/N worked for you."

"Well can you blame me? You're drop dead goregous and I wanted to know what you were made of." "So you tried to attack me?" "You can learn a lot about someone by how they fight. Most girls either run away or fight to run away. You fight to protect others." "And that's when I knew I had to have you." He adds, tapping his thigh for you to sit on.

You stand up and sit down perpendicular to his body. His hand trails down to your lower back and presses his lips against yours in a soft kiss. As the kiss intensifies, his hands fell lower and lower down your leg.

He pulls you so you're straddling his lap. He grips your ass and your roll your hips a little, making him moan. Who knew that you would end up falling for a mobster?

**

You've grown quite used to be Ruben's right hand woman. He made me in charge of the tactics and strategy because you have strength in planning and preparation. You were in the middle of planning for a drop off and pick up back while Ruben was out conducting business.

You hear a loud struggle and grunts. You look up from your notepad to see some henchmen walking a taller man into the red room. All of them were bloody and disheveled from fighting. "What happened to you guys?" You say as you approach them. "Y/N? You're really alive?" The man asks.

"How do you know me?" You ask. "He doesn't. He's just trying to save his ass because he knows he's going to meet his maker," one of the henchmen says.

The man reaches and touches your face. You gasp in shock of his warm, calloused hands but you only felt it for a second before he is shoved to his knees. One of the henchmen pulled out his gun and cocks it.

"Hey, trigger happy, put the gun down " you command. "Boss says to kill anyone who interferes with our business. We found him tearing one of our warehouses apart."

This man's touch feels familiar and something tells me to let him live. "Let him go," you state. "What?" "Did I stutter? I said let him go." He puts his gun away and you help the man up.

"Look, I don't know you, b--" "Dean. My name is Dean." He interupts. "Dean, you need to leave Chicago and never return." His hazel green eyes scan your face and he nods. You motion to the door and he says, "I'll always love you, Y/N." You two lock eyes for a moment before he walks out of the door.

"Boss will-" "I'll tell him what happened, don't worry about it." "Worry about what?" Ruben says, making the henchmen jump. "Privacy," you tell them and they all walk away. "Worry about what, baby doll?" "One of the warehouses was trashed," you say with a sigh.

You walk into your office and lean against your desk. "Did they find who did it?" "Yes," "Did they toss them in the red room?"

"No," you say. You eyes dart away from his gaze and he asks, "Why not?" "I knew him." "Y/N, you made a vow to not let personal affairs mess with business."

"I know, okay. I'll pay whatever price. I'll pay for the damages out of my own pocket and go to the warehouse to cl-" "You're going nowhere near that warehouse," "Come on, baby, talk to me." He adds, sitting next to you.

"Remember how I said that I had a life before I went to Chicago but I didn't remember it," "Because of your head trauma, yeah." He answers.

"I think he knew me before then. He knew who I was but I had no idea who he was. All I know is that his touch was familiar an-" "Wait, he touched you?" His jaw flexed and he stands up from leaning on the desk.

"Y-yes, but only for a second." "He's a dead man," "Ruben, please," you say, standing between him and the door. He steps so close to you that your chin gently grazes his chest.

He lifts your chin so you are looking straight up at him "You're mine, you know that right?" "Yes," you say softly. "We're going home," "But what about the tactical plan f-"

"You can finish it at home after I edge you for an hour," "Damn it," "Should've thought about that before you let him touch you,"

**

An unknown number has been calling you the past few days. Ruben always warned you about answering calls from unknown numbers.

Since you were a part of his business now, that put a target on your back. You had to be vigilant and careful with your words. You never know how is watching or listening.

The same number called you for the fifth time today and you slam on the answer button. "Hello?" You answer. "Hey, sweetheart," Dean deep, velvety voice says. "Dean, what are you doing?"

"You're in danger, Y/N. We're coming to get you," "First of all, I'm Nuben's girlfriend. I'm always in danger. Second of all, no you're not because they have a shoot to kill order on you."

"I don't care, Y/N. Lucifer is after you and we're not sure why," "Lucifer does not exist outside of the bible. "You're wrong about that, sweetheart." "Stop calling me sweetheart," "You have to believe us, Y/N. You're life is at stake here. If Lucifer finds you, you and your little boyfriend is a good as dead."

His words echo in your head and your mind started to disassociate. Series of images flood your brain and there was a sharp pain in your head.

You hiss and drop the phone on the floor as you hold the sides of your head. Voices of different people you've never hurt before echoed in your head and images of a man with dirty blonde hair and stained t-shirt and jeans.

His eyes glowed a crimson red and with the snap of his fingers, he could make a person's neck snap of their entire bodies explode. Then some images of you and Dean came into mind.

You were laying next to each other talking about something and he kisses you. Then the images were gone and you looked around frantically. "What the hell was that?" You say to yourself.

[drainthehero]

Ultraboy, Chapter 3

Ultraboy, still feeling horny after leaving Chip’s apartment, flew directly toward the docks where he could make out flashes of light and sounds of conflict. As he flew he adjusted his semi hard cock through his speedo to make it less obvious. The wind brushed over his smooth muscled physique and caused his cape to flick at his muscled calves, thighs and buttocks as he sped quickly over the city.

When he got closer he saw a large metal… thing, which he presumed must be the robot. It was big, around 9 feet tall, with a shiny silver outer casing. It was also humanoid in shape walking slowly on its shiny legs, so Ultraboy presumed it was human made. It was currently firing some kind of energy weapon from the end of one arm and it had a gun-like device attached to it’s shoulder which was also firing.

It looked as though the police forces had tried and failed to contain the construct, as there were vehicle wrecks in a trail behind the machine. The remaining police had fallen back out of its range and were trying to draw it toward them and away from populated pockets.

Ultraboy quickly scanned the area and spotted a number of people unable to flee. Making them his priority, he swooped down to grab the first two, wrapping a strong muscular bicep around each, before lifting them away from danger, keeping his body between them and the machine. He felt a few impacts hit his back.

After moving them to safety he returned for the third person, crouched behind a wrecked vehicle. He landed in front the man in his classic hero pose – legs apart, bulge smooth and large, chest out and proud – with his hand outstretched. “Take my hand, sir.” The man looked up at the bulge and muscles in clear lust and took the offered hand. The young hero pulled him close against his hard muscles to fly him to safety.

“Thank you for saving me, Ultraboy,” the man said in a shaky, but husky voice. One hand trailed from his massive pectorals down to his purple clad bulge and cupped his manhood while the other grabbed a meaty cheek of his ass. “I would only be too happy to find a way to thank you.”

Ultraboy gulped in shocked surprise, by both the boldness and the response from his super rod. The young heroic hunk had never had a member of the public be so brazen in their appreciation of his hunky physique. “Umm.. err, sir?” he coughed awkwardly and blushed, not sure what to say. He continued to massage his cock and ass cheek, eliciting a soft moan from the lips of Ultraboy, who could feel the stiffening shaft under the shiny purple fabric.

Finally he arrived at a safe location and set the man down. “Um… stay safe” he didn’t know where to look but could feel the semi poking a tent in his purple bulge so he flew away to deal with the robot. I guess I’m still horny from my time with Chip. Need to get back to him soon!

As he approached the robot, he contemplated the best approach. He usually tried to reason with criminals, as he hoped they would realise the futility of fighting the superpowered young hunk, but he wasn’t certain that would work here. He wasn’t even sure if this thing could hear or communicate. Still, it seemed the best place to start.

He landed about 20 feet in front of it and took up his heroic pose with a held hand up toward the machine in a motion to get it to stop. “What,” he paused, “or who are you? You need to end this destruction or I will be forced to stop you.”

The machine swivelled its attention toward the teen muscled superhero and paused for a moment. Script flashed up on an internal display within the machine as inputs were received and commands calculated and issued. As the image of Ultraboy filled a sensor array a set of commands – in bold, caps and red – flashed up on the screen:

OBJECTIVE 1 – COMPLETED

OBJECTIVE 2 – OBTAIN SEED OF ULTRABOY – DETECTED

OBJECTIVE 3 – CAPTURE ULTRABOY – DETECTED

NEW OBJECTIVE 2.1  – SUBDUE ULTRABOY

Ultraboy watched the machine while it processed commands and thought maybe he had made an impression. While he stood there holding his pose, muscles bulging across his body thought to himself, I could have used a fight though, after the humiliation of being defeated and milked by the Cleaners. The memory of that defeat, and the ease with which they had manhandled his huge muscled body still burned him with shame and humiliation.

As he finished his thought, Ultraboy moved to try further communication with the machine. At the same moment it executed its own command. In one swift and smooth motion, the energy weapon swivelled toward the super powered teen and released a blast at him.

Ultraboy was taken by surprise and the blast hit him directly in his washboard abs. “Ooof”, uttered the teen hero as the force of the blast propelled him backwards in a U shape, with arms and legs trailing behind his body. He slammed into the wall of a building, bringing it down on him in a flash of brick, dust and rubble. Ultraboy could be seen lying under the debris with a muscled leg and bicep sticking out.

Ultraboy sprang up from the rubble, unhurt physically thanks to his super powered impervious skin. “Fine,” said the young hero. “You want a fight, you’ll get the big guns.” He could not help but lift his arms and flex his big biceps in a display of strength and control. Looks like I’m going to get a fight after all, he thought to himself with satisfaction.

He flew directly at the machine and – slipping under its guard – landed a solid blow to the body casing. His effort was rewarded with a sore hand, a small dent on the machine, and the pleasing sight of it being lifted off the ground and carried back roughly 20 feet to land on its back on the road. He moved in to take advantage of the prone position, but the machine quickly propelled itself up from the road to resume a standing position.

For a second time, it swivelled the energy weapon toward Ultraboy and fired. The teen hero was more prepared this time and braced himself, flexing muscles and using his power of flight to steady his position. The blast hit him again in the abdomen and knocked him back, but he was able to correct his own course and, using the momentum of the blast, flew around to the side of the machine and aimed directly for the energy weapon arm.

Ultraboy grabbed the end of the arm with both hands, planted his feet on the body pulled, flexing all the muscle groups up and down his legs and arms. He felt little give from the machine as he strained and flexed his big muscles, beginning to worry that he may not be able to tear the arm off. However, assistance came from an unexpected source. The robot discharged the energy weapon again, hitting Ultraboy at the base of his pectoral slabs.

Ultraboy was again thrown backward from the huge force. But he was rewarded by the feeling of metal still in his hands. He looked over and, sure enough, the force had been enough to pull part of the weapon free of the arm. It was sparking enough that Ultraboy assumed it was now out of action.

Back inside the machine a few alarms were flashing as self-repair systems initiated. The screen flashed up revised instructions in bold, red and caps:

THREAT REASSESSMENT COMPLETED

THREAT UPGRADED

ACTIVATE OTT MODE – OBJECTIVE 2.1

Suddenly the robot flashed itself over to Ultraboy as the muscled teen was finding his feet. Ultraboy sensed the threat, but the robot delivered a powerful punch to the gut of the superhero. “Urgghhh,” exclaimed Ultraboy, clutching his stomach in surprised pain. “Aghhh”, he exclaimed. While he was clutching his stomach the robot delivered another punch to the chiseled jaw of the heroic teen.

The force of the blow smashed to the young hero to the ground, where he lay face down. His cape was flung to the side and his muscled arms and legs lay limp while he was momentarily out cold. His back was exposed and the delicious bubble butt was sticking out, encased within the shiny purple speedo.

The robot ripped the cape off the hunk and picked him up by one leg to drag him back to the road. The muscled stud was still out cold and so his arms dangled loosely behind him, as his speedo clad shaft and balls were also dragged along the ground.

While being dragged, Ultraboy awoke with a start and realised his predicament. This thing is stronger than I expected, better take more care. He bided his time at first and waited until the machine flipped him over onto his back, arms and legs outspread and purple package exposed. However, before the machine could do whatever it had planned, Ultraboy rolled to the side and sprang up into a defensive stance.

He stood there, partially crouched, waiting for the robot to make the next move. His jaw hurt like hell and he could feel bruises on his chest and stomach. Wow this thing is tough. What the hell is it made from?! Thought the young hero. “What do you want!?” he yelled at the thing.

The robot processed and calculated before engaging the projectile gun at its shoulder. It swivelled to the rear and fired behind itself.

As calculated, the young hero leapt into action and flew off in the direction of fire to see if anyone needed assistance. But as the muscled youth flew past the robot it latched onto a purple boot and swung the hero around and smashed him down on the surface of the road. “Oooof. Urgghh!” said Ultraboy, feeling some pain from the impact. For good measure it flung him overhead and smashed him onto the ground on either side multiple times. Ultraboy could only groan weakly as his body was smashed repeatedly into and through the bitumen surface.

The robot then took full control. Leaving Ultraboy laying prone on the ground, it launched a series of physical attacks all over the muscled body of the superpowered teen. Punches landed on his arms, face, legs and chest. Finally he lay still feeling tired and defeated. Ultraboy could only mutter a pained grown, “ooohhh, urrrgggghh…”

The robot stood over him as if to deliver some kind of final blow. But the young hero was not finished yet. He took all his strength and delivered a powerful kick to a leg of the robot, feeling a rewarding crack as his blow landed.

Ultraboy was exhausted but the blow to the leg of the machine had lifted his spirits. The teen hero started to get up slowly, ready for another round. As he stood his ground, recovering his breath and strength, the robot snaked out with its good arm and latched the hand-like end to the purple pouch of the superhero. Once in position it separated the orbs of Ultraboy and squeezed them.

“Ooof, urrghhh, argghhh!” Ultraboy writhed in pain as the metal hand of the robot sent shooting pain through his normally invulnerable nuts. His biceps flexed as he put his hands down to try and wrench the arm away but his massive muscles were too weak from his ordeals. “Ohhh, god. The pain. Please stop! Please…” Ultraboy whimpered weakly.

Unseen – but definitely felt – by the teen hero, the robot then slid open a compartment in the hand to release a dense mallet like object. This then assaulted his orbs like a battering ram. Ultraboy felt it smack, smack, smack, smack repeatedly into his testicles and thought he was going to die from the pain.

Ultraboy could only whimper and shriek. It felt like his balls were being repeatedly smashed between huge steel anvils. His head was lolling around loosely and his arms had gone limp at his side. Tears trickled down his mask and beautiful face. Still the machine pounded the precious and sensitive orbs of the young hero. The pain was simply overwhelming and Ultraboy just wanted to curl up and cry.

The robot then released the abused shaft and balls, leaving the young hero to slump down onto his knees. Ultraboy, the most powerful superhero the city had ever known, slumped in defeat. His huge muscles weak from exertion and bulging arms hanging limply by his sides. His head was pressed up against the groin of the robot as it stood there, seemingly contemplating its victory.

Back inside the machine alarms were still flashing and many systems were showing failure. The screen however was still operating and it flashed up new instructions in bold, red and caps:

THREAT REASSESSMENT COMPLETED

THREAT DOWNGRADED

OBJECTIVE 2.1 – COMPLETED

OBJECTIVE 2 – COMMENCING

After a few moments Ultraboy started to regain his senses. He stood up in front of the robot. He was weak and dizzy, having been tossed around like a rag doll. His body felt on fire everywhere. Muscles screamed in pain and his poor balls were so badly beaten that he feared they may cracked. As the young hero could barely stand, he swayed on the spot as weakness and defeat overtook him.

He contemplated flying off to lick his wounds, but that was not the way of the hero – he also was not certain he even could fly at this point. He looked up at the robot, which now felt like it towered over him and tried to devise a plan.

While Ultraboy was thinking, the robot swept the muscle hunk up in a tight bear hug, the robotic arms wrapped around the muscled chest of the teen superhero. It applied pressure to the hug and started to restrict both blood and oxygen to Ultraboy.

“Urgghhh!” Ultraboy groaned from the pain caused by the intense pressure as he struggled to fill his lungs. He lifted his mighty muscled arms above his head and brought them crashing down on the head of the robot. “Let. Me. Go!” he bellowed defiantly. The teen superhero felt the thing shudder under his blow, but it had come at a great cost to Ultraboy.

Still the robot squeezed. The heroic teen lifted his muscled arms for another blow. The blow landed in the same place but it delivered far less power this time. Ultraboy was weakening further and his once mighty muscles were almost spent. Ultraboy writhed in the arms of the robot as the pressure threatened to overwhelm his consciousness.

“Urgghh…. Please… letttt,” Ultraboy trailed off, sounding groggy as he started to black out. “Pleeeasse…”

He started to lift his huge arms for one more blow. But as he lifted them high, blackness took him and he hung limply in the arms of the robot, the superpowered muscle teen having finally succumbed to the robot. The arms and legs dangling weakly and loosely from the muscular body. The robot jiggled him about to ensure he was out cold. The huge muscles were completely slack and there was no flexing left in the boy. They just sloshed around like slabs of meat at the market.

Finally convinced, the robot dropped Ultraboy onto the ground, and spread out the muscle bound arms and legs. To ensure there was no further disruption, the robot retrieved huge slabs of steel from the wreckage and pinned the hands and feet of the teen hero. At full strength the young muscle hunk could have easily moved them, but in his current predicament they would keep him bound and immobile.

The hero was now lying on his back – head tilted and eyes closed – oblivious to the actions going on around him. His massive chest moved slightly up and down as small amounts of precious oxygen started to reenter his blood stream. His huge biceps and thighs were helplessly spread eagled. The purple pouch which housed the super cock and balls of Ultraboy was sitting exposed and vulnerable.

A compartment opened in groin cavity of the robot and a series of implements issued forth toward the prone hero. A tube was deployed between his lips, pouring a liquid down the throat of Ultraboy. A knife shot forward and swiftly cut open the speedo, exposing the thick shaft and balls to the evening air.

The smooth balls of Ultraboy were bruised and misshapen, having taken a beating from the relentless pounding by the battering ram of the robot. The testicles of any mortal would have been smashed into a creamy paste by the force of the repeated and relentless beating, but the ultrapowered body of the young hero had at least prevented his testicles from caving in under the pressure.

The liquid was clearly taking effect, as the cock of Ultraboy started to stretch and grow in the cool night air. It slowly filled like a balloon as precious blood and oxygen was diverted to his manhood. As the cock filled up, it started to harden and moved its position. By the time the super cock fully erect at the proud 8 inches, it was pointing directly at the face and chest of the beautiful sleeping hero.

Once the robot detected the erection, a much larger tube was deployed to cover the shaft of Ultraboy and commence suction and stimulation. The robot had detailed software for stimulating the male penis and did not suffer any human desire to rush or hurry. Additional snake like appendages sprang forth to caress and fondle the muscled body of the young hero.

They would land on a nipple, testicle or muscle and apply tender pressure while excreting a drug designed to enter the blood stream, increasing arousal and enhancing sperm production. They notably avoided the tight ass and hole of the young hero.

The various implements were doing their job with the hard shaft of the young hero being jerked efficiently.

It was at this moment that Ultraboy roused and saw the situation that he was in. “Ughh. Owww,” he muttered as he slowly regained consciousness. He tried and failed to move his arms and legs. He noticed the weights pinning him down and realised he had no hope of moving them in his currently weakened state. His huge muscles were groaning from the abuse he had suffered and to make matters worse he was hard yet again and it felt as though an expert cocksucker were going to work on his shaft and glans.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed weakly when he saw the pump working his cock. “What is the obsession with my cock lately?” Although he complained, he could not help but feel the positive glow as the drugs were spread throughout his system and his still sore balls were sucked and lashed.

At that point he felt a rising pressure in his balls and shaft and knew he was close. No matter how much the young hero tried to fight it off, the inevitable was about to occur. The robot increased and switched up the drugs so when the orgasm blossomed across his muscular body, Ultraboy convulsed in a feeling of ecstasy and joy. “Ahhhh! Fuuucckkk. I’m coming. God that feels good,” he confessed inspite of himself. “Ohhhh, fuuuuckk!”

The power of the gem gave Ultraboy the ability to rapidly create sperm and so the robot kept jerking, sucking and massaging the balls and shaft to get a very large sample.

After roughly three minutes, even the might superpowered balls of Ultraboy stopped churning and he writhed, wriggled and begged as the sensations drove him wild. “No! Please! Stop. The pain is unbearable. Pleeeassse. Please!”

When it had finished, the robot retracted the implements to its groin cavity and stored the sample safely within an internal mini cryo vault.

Back inside the machine the screen flashed a further update:

OBJECTIVE 1 – COMPLETED

OBJECTIVE 2 – COMPLETED

OBJECTIVE 3 – CAPTURE ULTRABOY – COMMENCING

Ultraboy lay on the ground, his still raging hard on snaking up his abdomen and his mighty limbs splayed out helplessly, restrained by the heavy weights. The young hero had regained some of his strength but he honestly did not see how he could escape this predicament. He also had no idea what the robot was going to with him now it appeared to have what it wanted.

The robot then removed the weights, finally freeing the arms and legs of Ultraboy, then lifted him upright. It was a shortlived freedom as shiny silver bands snaked out from within the body of the robot and encased him tightly, binding his arms, chest and legs. He stood there in his new bondage. His arms were pinned by his side and his legs trapped and unable to move. He could barely keep his balance.

His cock was still up and proud and was now bouncing along with the movement pointing out and slightly up. He contemplated flying off, but just then a device lashed out from the robot and encircled the base of his cock behind the balls and tethered him to the robot.

As the robot started to walk back in the direction it had come the tether tightened and pulled at Ultraboy. The pain was severe and so the young hero had to follow like a sex slave or risk his balls being crushed by the silvery metal ring.

Ultraboy felt defeated and hopeless. He had been defeated while fully powered by the gem. Not just beaten actually, but soundly thrashed, ball bashed and milked of his cum. To top it off, he was now going to be paraded across half the city looking like a sex toy being taken to its master. All his muscles and strength had not been enough to save him from this fate.

From the corner of his eye he saw a flash of light speeding in his direction and he tensed his muscles, bracing for an impact.

The flash of light was intended for the robot. It struck the robot at base of the tether, which freed Ultraboy from his slavery and sent the robot careening off to the side. Ultraboy felt a flash of hope and flexed his muscles for all he was worth. He drew on the power of the gem and was rewarded with a fresh surge of energy and strength.

He flexed his massive muscles again. This time the bands surrounding his body broke under the immense pressure of his powerful body. He reached down and ripped the remaining bonds and tether from his body. Ultraboy stood free again, his glorious muscled physique once again flowing with strength.

To his right a quick scuffle ensued between the flash of light – which Ultraboy could now see was a young male – and the robot. The robot flung the young male into a wall before initiating thrusters from its legs and flying away at great speed.

Ultraboy moved over to see if the young man needed help as he had hit that wall with great force. When he got closer he saw a superhero in his early 20s standing up from the rubble, dusty but unhurt.

The hero wore a white spandex suit, purple speedo and purple cape, which Ultraboy found strangely similar to his own. He also had a white mask to protect his identity and blonde hair. He was extremely handsome with a lean, muscled body like that of a swimmer. Ultraboy felt a moment of guilt as he felt attraction and heat toward the new sexy hero. This was confusing for him as he had already started to feel a strong connection with Chip and was looking forward to returning to Chip’s apartment.

“Thank you for the help back there,” Ultraboy started politely. He followed up with, “uhh, who… are you?”

The young hero motioned towards the groin of Ultraboy and the raging erection on display, which is when he remembered he was completely naked. Blushing in furious embarrassment he muttered, “oh my god. I’m sorry”. He removed and replaced the gem quickly enough that his identity was hidden by the purple field with his costume being replaced.

“I… uhh,” he started nervously. “That… er, thing decided to milk me dry.” As he said the words he blushed an even deeper shade.

The young hero then indicated that Ultraboy should follow him. Ultraboy didn’t even think about it. This hero had just clearly saved his life so he agreed and they flew off, Ultraboy following the unknown masked superhero.

The robot landed at the remote location and was met by the Coordinator. The robot merely issued the words, “Objective 1 and 2 complete. Objective 3 failed.” The Coordinator looked at his creation, lip curving in disdain and marring his otherwise beautiful face. The Director would definitely be pleased about 1 and 2, but would likely fly into a rage at the last piece of information.

Still, a relatively successful – if extremely costly – outing. The Coordinator retrieved the two compartments from his creation and issued the self-destruct command. Nobody could be allowed to discover their plans yet and so all evidence must be erased.

As he walked back to the camouflaged compound, the robot launched itself directly up and curved around the globe toward the sun. It would never make it that far of course, but it didn’t really need to.

[silverwhiteraven]

Wings of Broken White - Ch. 4

Tag List: @marichatmay

[ Posted on Ao3 ] [ Chapter 1 ] [ Chapter 3 ] [ Chapter 5 ]

[ Summary: Alya takes Marinette somewhere, and it turns cute. ]

Alya decided that Marinette wasn’t getting out enough despite the fact that they shouldn't be going anywhere when it was still late winter.

“Girl, you hardly go anywhere anyways unless it’s for someone else!” Alya argues as she dragged a snugly bundled Marinette down snow and salt dusted sidewalks.

“Hey, I went to the school’s Valentine’s party last month, that should count for something!”

Allya scoffed at the weak defense. “You were, like, a ninth-wheel, Marinette. Rose and Juleka, Nathaniel and Marc, Mylène and Ivan, Nino and I, we were the wheels on that bus. You on the other hand…” She trailed off to emphasize her point.

Marinette scoffed. “I think you missed a set of wheels, Als. Max and Kim were there. Chloé and Adrien showed up, too.” 

“Max was there sporting an Aro-pride flag pin and keeping Kim company,” Alya shot back. “They were just being single-wheels, together. And Adrien, with Chloé? More like she had kidnapped him to a secondary location! Adrien clearly wasn't the one to decide to show up. And remember the color coded cups? He was using the one for the ‘Single, just here to support my friends’ category. Just like Max, just like you. So my point still stands: You need to get out more often, just for yourself.”

Marinette sighed, relenting. “Fine, but next time, I get to decide where I go, so no more surprise trips.”

“Yesss,” Alya pumped her fist in the air victoriously, her wings spreading out, too. Marinette laughed and pushed her hand back down to her side while she dodged out of the way of one fairly the overexcited wing.

“Anyways, where are we going? You said something about, ‘You’re going to love it, my treat!’” Marinette quoted in an exaggerated mimic of Alya’s voice, causing both girls to burst into giggles.

“Just a café,” Alya says coyly, almost teasingly. It made Marinette squint in suspicion.

“It wouldn’t happen to be the same café you mentioned two weeks ago on the Ladyblog, right? The one they planned to theme after Paris’s new heroes?” Marinette asked, teasing her friend right back with her confident guess.

“You remembered! Yep, that’s the place! And it’s not just any regular themed café, either. It’s a cat café,”Alya revealed dramatically, while spreading her wings again to wrap them both in a mock cocoon of unnecessary but playful secrecy. Marinette balked.

“Wait, so you’re basically taking me to a ‘Chat Blanc emphasis-on-the-Chat’ Café?”

Alya snorted, pulling her wings back. “Yes, but it’s actually called ‘Hero Rescue Café’. They work together with the animal shelters around Paris, most of the cats they have are available for adoption. The profits are even donated back to those shelters to help keep the animals cared for. Isn’t that cool?”

“Mhm,” Marinette nodded along as Alya continued to rave excitedly and lead the way to their destination. I wonder if they’ll have any cats that look like Blanc? Probably not. Blue-eyed white cats were already popular, and no doubt are even more so now. Not that I could adopt a cat anyways, but it’s a niche thought. Wait, why is it a nice thought? It’s not like I like Chat Blanc or anything, no way! I don’t do crushes! Oh, who am I kidding? Marinette groaned in defeat to her own thoughts, making Alya stop talking and look at her.

“Something wrong, Marinette?”

“Oh! Sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you, I was just thinking about how sad I’m going to be if I see a cat I really want to keep but can’t?”

Alya nodded in acceptance of the awkward excuse, and Marinette sighed in relief. I can never tell her about my crush- I’m scared to find out what kind of match-maker she would try to be. Or even worse, tell me I have no chance! I mean, I know I have no chance, but still, ow. Would Ladybug have a chance? Wait, she and I are the same person! If I don’t have a chance, neither does Ladybug! Hold on, why am I even thinking about this!?

“We’re here~!” Alya announced, breaking Marinette free once more from her internal chaos.

“Is that a cat in the window? There’s a cat in the window!” Marinette let herself get distracted by the café and Alya laughed.

“Duh there's a cat in the window, it’s a cat café, what else would be in the window?” She teased, but Marinette only laughed.

“Well I know that, but I can still be excited over a cat, can’t I?”

“Save it for when we go inside,” Alya winked, opening the door for them both. There was a second set of doors past the first, and Marinette realized that they did the smart thing and made an enclosed entryway.

“Oh, this is to keep the cats from dashing outside, like at a dog park,” she mused, making Alya chuckle.

“Yeah, and gives people a fur-free place to hang up their coats. Oh, look!” She added excitedly, pointing to the opposite wall from the hanger rod. There was something that almost looked like a long shawl or a barber cape. Marinette recognized it easily. “They have wing-covers for patrons to borrow, in case we don’t want the cat’s playing with our feathers. That’s so thoughtful. They really went all-out on this place.”

Marinette smiled and nodded in agreement as she slid off her jacket and hung it up. “It really is sweet of them. Are you going to use one?” Alya shook her head.

“Nope. My wing’s are tough, I can handle a few clingy kitties,” she declared with a proud smile, and Marinette only chuckled as she opened the next set of doors for them both.

Unsurprisingly, Marinette enjoyed the café. She spent a lot of time admiring their logo that was embedded in the resin coating of their tables. The stylized lettering was inspired by some of the animal-themed Akumas. Then the entire name was encircled by the white belt of Chat Blanc and the red and black yo-yo of Ladybug. Symbolic of two heroes saving those in need. They really thought this out. Maybe Ladybug should show her respect here some time.

Surprisingly, the café’s cats also enjoyed Marinette. Alya was convinced they had met every single cat in the building before they even got their drinks. Marinette was just embarrassed and spent a lot of time spreading her attention between each feline before shooing them all off towards other guests. One of the cats, sleek black with yellow-flecked green eyes, was too stubborn to leave, so she let him claim her lap indefinitely. 

But, completely unbelievably, the café got a surprise guest. Chat Blanc himself showed up out of the blue. Alya had spotted him running across a rooftop across the street, and proceeded to book it out the door, fly after him, and then shamelessly ask to take a photo of him with the cats that were inside the café inspired by him and his partner. He was stunned at first, but agreed, soon enough beaming happily as he surrounded himself with cats.

“Is he crying?” Marinette whispered to Alya as she recorded the feline hero sitting on the floor with at least five different cats climbing his back, shoulders, and into his lap.

“The happiest tears I’ve ever seen,” Alya confirmed.

Once Alya was satisfied she had taken enough pictures and video footage for the blog, she turned her focus to getting a few personal memorabilias.

“Mari! Come here! Take a pic of me with Chat, please? I want something for my desktop background, this would be perfect!”

Marinette agreed, to the annoyance of the cat in her lap. She managed to get the photo, a cute scene of Alya, her nerdy school friend, and Chat Blanc, her dorky friend-but-only-because-she’s-secretly-Ladybug, doing a silly pose with their arms linked, wings flared out, and several cats surrounding them.

She gave a thumbs up, and Alya whooped, standing to take back the phone. Marinette stepped forward, only for the clingy black cat from earlier to entangle himself with her ankles.

With a squawk, she went tumbling, but was deftly caught in the arms of Chat before she could meet an untimely end via a floor of cats.

Marinette flushed scarlet. Chat Blanc smiled shyly. The black cat jumped up on them, getting his lap-seat back. Alya, of course, got another photo.

All three of them managed to laugh it off, but not without Alya demanding another picture of the two and the cats before she would let them stand up.

“Marinette, I’m texting you copies to keep for yourself. Sorry, Chat, I’d send you some but-”

“No worries,” he chuckled and rubbed his neck, waving her concern away with his other hand. “Secret identity means secret number. You’ll be using your own pictures on your computer, though, right? Consider me honored by that,” he bowed dramatically and the two laughed as he straightened. “And Marinette, I’d be more than happy to let you do the same if you wanted, too,” he played the comment off with a wink.

“Time for me to go,” Chat Blanc continued before either girl could respond. “Chat out!”

They watched him dash out the doors and off over the rooftops.

“Girl...Did he just flirt with you?” Alya looked at Marinette, awestruck.

“What? No! There’s no way! Nope!” Marinette flustered and started walking out in a feeble attempt to escape the accusation.

“Uh-huh, because feeling ‘honored’ to be a screensaver for one girl and being ‘happy’ in case it were to happen by a second girl, is totally the same thing,” Alya followed after, determined to tease the life out of Marinette.

“Yes, exactly! Completely the same! It would have just been awkward to say the same line twice, so he just reworded himself, that's all! He was just giving permission to use his picture for personal use, nothing more, nope!”

Alya laughed before winking playfully. “Yeah, girl, sure. That was all, nothing more, nothing less. Whatever you say.”

“Thank you,” Marinette nodded in finality, ignoring the teasing sarcasm from her friend.

Later that day, Marinette saved one of the café photos as her phone’s background, making sure to put a completely different photo as her lockscreen to avoid any further notice or teasing about her and Chat Blanc.

[hanmajoerin]

So my original plan was to write some stupid text post about Gramps grumbling about that one time InuYasha fucked up his bonsai trees and it became ✨so much more✨. This is now my first little Hanyo no Yashahime ditty!

I wanted to hold off on writing for HnY until the show started airing and we could get a better understanding of exactly what’s going on but 🤷🏼‍♀️. I did some adlibbing on Moroha’s motivation and fears, her childhood “alone,” and the OG crew being alive somewhere (🤞🏻) but hopefully you can run with this and enjoy it while we wait for October 3rd to finally come around.

This fic is titled “From Now On” and it’s a little sloppy by my own standards so I’m not sure if I would like to post it on AO3 or FF right now but it is still pretty solid and I wanted to share it with all of you!

“I...” It’s not like Moroha thought she had to practice this speech. She’d never spent a day of her life preparing for anything like this, but her surroundings were swarming with unfathomable gadgets–smells and sounds–and there were three pairs of eyes tracking her every breath. She felt cornered, like prey before the slaughter. “I... I don’t remember my parents very much,” she confessed. The sentence was one she’d uttered countless times in the past. It came with having no family but needing teachers and money. But now, Moroha had a family–three strangers who knew her parents better than she ever did–and having to admit it left her palms sweaty.

Brown eyes stayed low, finding comfort in the familiarity of red gloves until the sound of something breaking had her whipping her head upwards. The woman, her grandmother, was gasping at the confession. She chose to clutch at her chest instead of hold steady to the tray of tea she’d been bringing to the table. “Wha..?”

It was her great-grandfather who managed to bark out an entire sentence. “How on earth can you say such a thing!?”

Still, Moroha had trouble shifting her focus. She couldn’t continue, too preoccupied by watching her grandmother slowly bend down to gather the shards of glass. Hands. Her grandmother’s hands looked delicate, as if they shouldn’t be placing the broken glass back onto the serving tray. Moroha had been there before, so many times. She wondered for a moment when she'd finally picked up her last pieces. She couldn’t remember.

“That means ‘Sis is...” her uncle trailed, combing his fingers through his thick, black fringe. “And what about InuYasha? The guy’s an unstoppable force!”

Moroha swallowed. “I’m sorry.”

Her grandmother stood up, walking away from the table to grab a few towels. “So your mom...”

Moroha nodded solemnly. “The night Towa went missing, there was a big fire caused by a demon. My old man left me this,” Moroha briefly motioned to her crimson cape. It had lost its magic years ago, but the sensation of her dad draping it over her head–the way he squeezed her shoulders before walking out of Kaede’s hut with her mom–that was a magic all its own. She could still see his two amber eyes gleaming; in her memories, they were always brighter than the flames. “My mom told me to stay in the village with the other kids but they were gone for a really long time. Everyone was worried and Towa, Setsuna, and I decided to go looking in the forest. That’s when we lost Towa and... and that was the last time I saw my parents.”

The air yielded to a pregnant pause. Moroha saw how words were hiding carefully behind closed lips. She could only guess that everyone wanted to speak but their sentences were paralyzed from the news. It was a lot to take in, after all. That was something she’d finished experiencing already. Clearing her throat, the quarter-demon chose to keep talking instead. “After it was over, we all searched for them. Even after the village stopped, I kept going. I didn’t think I’d ever return.” Return to Kaede’s village, see Setsuna, find Towa, be in the future, see her mom’s old world, be with the family she didn’t know she had.

Her great-grandfather was the one to break the silence again. He’d thumped his fist onto the table, two teeth peering out, strengthening a disgruntled scowl. “It’s all that demon’s fault! He was always so reckless. I mean, how many things did he break around the shrine? It’s no surprise that—”

“Father!”

Uncle Sota had risen from his chair, choosing to slap his palm against the table instead of copy the motions of his grandfather. Moroha clutched onto her robe of the fire-rat. Had Towa explained anything to them? Did they know that her parents were still...?

“Don’t you remember when the well disappeared? Without InuYasha, Sis never would have made it back. Whatever happened, I’m positive InuYasha protected her.” Hearing an uncle talk up her old man was a totally new experience.

“Besides, how can you say such a thing when his daughter is here?” Her grandmother asked, walking over and placing a supportive hand on Moroha’s shoulder. Her touch had the quarter-demon’s back straightening like a rod. “This is my granddaughter—your great-granddaughter.”

Moroha wasn’t one to gaze up while her chin hung low, but she was nervous. Would a family member hate her because of her heritage? She wasn’t a stranger to the discrimination—her fangs and claws had gotten her into a fair amount of sticky situations in the past. But the longer she stared at her great-grandfather, the warmer his features grew. Wrinkles retracted, his frown straightened out, shoulders drooped, and he eased back into the chair, crossing his arms over bright white robes. “I suppose that boy did bring something good into my home,” he muttered. Moroha couldn’t stop a small smile from forming.

“Moroha Dear,” Her grandma began with a tentative squeeze to her shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”

“You’re sorry!?” Moroha nearly shouted, springing up from her chair and banging her fists onto the table. She was beginning to think that “hand banging” was a signature Higurashi family move. Shaking her head a few times, Moroha recalled the matter at hand, the reason she’d objected in the first place. Her grandma was apologizing even though Moroha was the one who’d failed to realize that her parents could be saved. It had been an entire decade and instead of dedicating it to finding them, she built a life without them.

It wasn’t long before two arms surrounded the quarter-demon, leaving her struggling to abandon them. It wasn’t that this woman felt untouchable, as a matter of fact, her yellow shirt was softer than most of the clothes she’d ever come across, but she didn’t understand why it was happening. “What are you doing?” Moroha finally asked as she stilled in her grandmother’s fierce embrace. She wondered if her own mom had been in this exact position before. Moroha chanced leaning into the touch.

“I’m sure you’ve heard the legends about the Bone Eater’s Well,” Her grandmother began, taking a deep breath. “That’s how your parents were able to meet. I still remember the first time Kagome came home, it was the one time she considered staying with us for good. Of course, she’d only been home a few hours before InuYasha burst through those doors and made a big scene. He always was so spirited and passionate; it wasn’t any surprise that Kagome started traveling between our two worlds shortly thereafter.

Their journey wasn’t easy, but they learned to support each other and fell in love. Afterwards, the well took InuYasha home to his era and Kagome remained here. We all missed your father but I was able to find peace just having Kagome near. She was restless, unable to find that same peace and when the well opened up for the last time, I gave her my blessing. I’ll never forget how she jumped into the well without looking back at me.” Moroha found her shoulders being pushed back so the two could look at one another. Her grandmother reached forward to caress her cheek. The bounty hunter swore she spotted pieces of her mom in her grandmother’s smile. Maybe the way the light from the ceiling lantern reflected in the older woman’s auburn eyes was the same too. It was all blurry. Moroha anchored herself to the floor, tucking those thoughts under her toes. That’s when her grandma started up again. “Since then, I chose to believe that your mom found the happiness she was searching for.” Tears like the teacup fragments glistened in those eyes now, adding a depth that Moroha’s mom simply couldn’t understand. “You’re my proof that Kagome lived a good life. The idea that she could–that InuYasha, too–it never crossed my mind. Moroha, things were very different for you.”

“Grandmother...”

Her grandma wrapped her back into an embrace quicker than Moroha could think. She couldn’t fight it off this time even if she tried. “It must have been difficult for you, I’m sorry.” And there it was, the sentence that left the so-called destroyer of lands a sniffling mess with hot crocodile tears and warm snot marring her ferocious features. “Even though your mother is gone, you’re our family and you are always welcome in our home.”

“But that’s the thing, Grandma! We can fix this! Aunt Kagome’s not dead, she’s still alive,” Towa exclaimed, effectively reminding Moroha that the others were still here. It left her tears drying up quickly.

“But how can that be?” Grandpa asked. “I fail to see how my precious granddaughter would just abandon her own family.”

“She hasn’t! Not really. She and the others have been trapped and now we know how to save them. We’re going to get them all back.”

Sota stood up from his chair again, abandoning his spot to make his way over to Moroha and her grandma. He placed his hand atop her head, ruffling her hair and stirring up a bunch of flyaways from her ponytail. “If there’s a way to save my sister and InuYasha, too, I’ll do whatever I can to help!”

“Really, Dad?”

“You realize this isn’t the first time the Higurashi family has dealt with a time traveling daughter,” he all but deadpanned, eyebrows pointed sharply at Towa.

Moroha felt her grandmother’s laughter as it echoed against her frame. “Yes, we’ll certainly be falling into an old routine.”

“At least the first-aid kits have gotten better over the years,” Sota offered with a shrug.

It was all so casual the way her family handled the situation. In the past, Moroha chose to stay away, but things had changed. There was new information, there was hope. If there was a way to resolve an issue then she’d face it head on. The thought guided her trademark smirk back to her face. A familiar determination began spreading through her veins. “From now on, we’ll do everything we can to find my mom and dad! We won’t let you down!”

[abizarreyodelingincident]

LU: We’re all heroes here, right?

It was all coming together. The great showdown between the Heroes of Courage and their shadow. The ultimate conflict between legends and their inner demons given form. Soon, the demon thought to himself, soon, the pieces would fall into place, and only darkness would stand triumphant in blood.

"Surrender, Dark Link," the one they called Warriors demanded, sword raised in askance.

"Me? Surrender?" he asked, gleeful. "When it is finally time for you to listen to your repressed darkness? I know it, I see in your hearts, and long ago, you've fallen to temptation, to anger, to hatred. Why don't you reveal yourself, Fallen Hero?"

Shock covered all faces, none too slow or too quick to materialize. Expected. No hero that had turned his back on the goddesses could hope to survive eight of his heroic companions if they found out. But here and now, before the throne of the royal family, in the presence of a potent ally...

Nervous glances flew between them. The poor heroes. They could not possibly believe that one of their own, one they had trusted so long would suddenly turn cloak. They wouldn't believe it! But on the off-chance... if there ever was a possibility...

The harmonious, almost elegant formation loosened. Its members more tense. Backs shifted away from others, subtly, at first.

It was all Dark Link had known it to be. If only one of them shouted 'Liar!', it would make the perfect cue for the fallen hero to reveal himself and take his rightful place at his side. Then, together, Tainted Light and Bloody Shadow would storm the Sacred Realm.

So easy. Trauma had erected walls between them, and now, none could move before it was too late.

Victory was his!

"Alright, fuck it!" Legend suddenly broke, nimbly jumping back away from the others. "I'm the one! I have had it with the quests and the trials and the tears every time a god wakes up from its post-orgy nap and realizes that thousands are suffering somewhere. I've spent more years away from home than within at this point. I endured and endured and then..."

Silence reigned for the span of a troubled heartbeat.

Legend's gaze searched and found Twilight, and the anger shining found a mirror.

"Then that fucking fish ripped my last hope for happiness away from me."

"Veteran..."

"Traitor," Warriors sneered, his weapon drawn.

Flames lit at the tip of Legend's fire rod, casting their glow upon his tempered sword. "Well, even if I hadn't been one, I still would have wanted to punch you in the face, Captain."

Dark Link muffled his own cackling, for fear it would spur the heroes away from this outcome. A drawn-out battle between heroes, weakening both sides before he could swoop in and massacre the rest. Oh, it was just as he had hoped when he had sensed the hidden darkness below the heroic spirit they all carried.

They were conflicted, hesitant. Easier preys, a balancing factor in the soon-to-be fight. A few, more decisive, but the deciding moment, the instant that would cut this moment from history as the triumph of darkness, had yet to come. A question was ignored, discarded outright. And Legend's expression tightened. Braced itself for violence...

"Wait!" called a man's voice.

That part, Dark Link hadn't anticipated.

The heroes froze, metal clanking where swords were hastily pulled back and bonked against armors or shields. Then, one broke away from the group, standing taller than his fellow traitor, with more hesitation.

"I can't do this. You'll have to do it to me too."

"Twilight?!" gasped Wild, though for some reason, it didn't sound as betrayed as it should have.

"Pup...?" Time asked, his gaze heavy. Not yet hostile.

Twilight rubbed the back of his neck, his slanted grin a good display of country boy charm. "Yeah, me too. For the same reason, actually. I... I never asked for it, spirits and gods toyed with me and convinced the one I love that she should exile herself away from me forever. I ain't proud." He paused when Legend shouted 'fuck that!' and pondered. "But I want my pound of flesh. Honestly, I didn't think I'd get this far." He lifted a hand a summoned an energy ball black as night. "I use dark magic all the time. Thought one of you would have beheaded me by now."

Four, Time and Wild nodded, forced to concede the point. "I suppose it says something when your inner self is a feral predator that tears monsters' throats out," Four said. "Though, for the magic, that's more understandable, I think the only one that can really tell is... "

As he trailed off, his eyes widened, and so did the rest. Warriors gasped and scurried away from their wanderer.

Legend looked as if the Wind Fish had smacked him in the face. Jaw slack, and a faint shimmer of hope behind a whole lot of shock.

"Well, I wasn't going to say anything," Hyrule said, biting his lips. "I didn't want to be judgemental. Also, the hero before me went on like, ten quests and the world is still a desolated apocalyptic wasteland. Everything's poisonous or venomous, or some strange combination of both. I never knew water was drinkable before meeting you. I saved two different princesses and neither rewarded me with riches, so I've decided to pull the plug before a third needy damsel pushes me through months of fighting for my life against hordes of monsters."

With tears in his eyes, Legend rushed to envelop his successor into a manly hug.

Dark Link slowly raised his sword, clearing his throat. "Pardon, Heroes of Courage? And Traitors against the Goddesses, I guess, perhaps we-"

"Speaking of post-apocalyptic worlds," Wild began, not noticing he cut off their archenemy.

Twilight's breath hitched, his eyes suddenly watery. He seemed to be fighting a smile. "Cub?"

"Hylia really fucked up the timing of her divine intervention, " he said with a shrug. "I lost everyone except Zelda. Even lost myself. And yet, she never says a word... I just... I do hate her."

A bear hug cut off the tears before they could fall. Twilight lifted his little brother off the ground, whispered reassurances in his ears whilst his wolf hood was used to bury Wild's face into. The remaining Links let them share the moment, looked aside despite the uneasy detente this sudden spill of secrets had caused.

"Well, if we're playing cards on the table..." was Four's preface.

Groans mixed in with a growing sense of incredulity.

Four shot a wistful look to their common enemy, then back to a small, pocket mirror. His reflection's lips were a thin line. "My brother might have been born of darkness, but he had light in him too. He didn't deserve to fade away into nothing... I'd do anything to get him back."

He looked up again, a hint of nerves in his stance, but otherwise decisive. Twilight opened up his free arm and invited him with a wink. For once, there wasn't a protest at being treated like a kid. Just a quick sidehug and a few smirks exchanged on the side of evil.

"So," Legend drawled, waggling eyebrows at Warriors, "looks like you're outnumbered now. Five to four. Still interested in some vigilante justice?"

Warriors pinched his lips together. A series of emotions flashed in his eyes, his stance, and that would have been fine and good, except Legend, for all he wore the tag of an uncaring bastard, knew his companions very well by that point. It wasn't exactly horror that came to the front of his mind.

"... Seriously? You called me 'traitor!' Turned on me and everything!"

Warriors' expression twisted again. He tried his usual nonchalant hairflip but only managed to dishevel it some more. "What? I had to be convincing. How was I supposed to know I wasn't the only one with resentment issues?"

Hyrule snorted. "We share the same spirit, don't we?"

Something dawned on Twilight, his face lighting up, hope renewed, but before he could act on it, Legend tilted his head. A smirk sharp enough to draw blood.

"So, what's your story, captain? Lost your shampoo?"

"Was turned on by most soldiers in my own unit for being the target of a lustful stalking sorceress. Apparently," he drawled, venom on his tongue, "it was my fault the war happened. I shouldn't have existed. And those were people I'd fought side-by-side with for years. Imagine what strangers think."

The Links winced.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Legend said, and by all accounts, meant it.

"... Thanks."

The moment passed. They shuffled awkwardly. Neither very willing to say much after an unexpected heart to heart.

A little way away from the rest, Time frowned. "Didn't you lead the army to victory though?" he asked, pensive.

Tossing his arms in the air, Warriors huffed. "Well, yeah, I wanted revenge on the sorceress too!"

Dark Link gulped. All eight of the Chosen Heroes had nodded in unison at the explanation. Discreetly, he took a couple of steps back toward the darker corners of the throne room with a thought for the nearest exit.

(Unfortunately, Dark Link had, very consciously, chosen a room with no exit to avoid any chance of his preys escaping. He thus saw a crucial flaw with that plan.)

A few feet away, the tension had all but melted. "Old Man?" called an hopeful Twilight.

"After a decade of peace fighting through the trauma of my adventures and finally getting to marry the woman of my life, I did not take the call to adventure well." His hand went to his adventurer's pouch and his items, where his descendant knew a certain mask had been hidden. "I came prepared this time around. What's one more dead god if it means this is the last time I'm stolen away from my family? Although," he added, glancing at the assembled fallen heroes, "I had not anticipated my family growing this large this quickly."

"Sap," Warriors said, but he strongly patted Time on the back nonetheless. "So, that's seven now? Sky, anything you want to confess?"

The question, it seemed, wasn't even an 'if' anymore. More of a polite 'why?'. The unspoken undertone had similarly evolved to suggest that 'why not?' would be considered an acceptable answer at this point.

Sky wilted under the pressure. "I tried. To break the curse, I mean. Demise's curse. I found the triforce, spoke with the goddesses." The soft angles of Sky's face sharpened. "But it was pointless! Couldn't do it. Wouldn't. T-they told me that the wheels of fate had turned or some bullshit and I just had to make peace with the idea that my Zelda, that my reincarnations and hers would be plagued by a demon god for all eternity! I know Hylia... Zelda's different. She's hylian. We belong to one another."

The general surprise brought a blush to his face.

Clearing his throat, he said: "Anyway, erm, yeah, I'm doing it for my Zelda, our descendants and, well, all of you. I'm sorry I didn't solve this in my own lifetime, but since we have the opportunity."

"Attaboy, Chosen," Legend crooned. "I knew my inner bastard had to come from somewhere."

Loving teasing followed that comment.

As one, eight heroes turned toward Wind, who had yet to speak. Unbothered, he shrugged, his giant bone hammer hefted across his shoulders.

"What? I told you guys I'm a pirate. Raiding, pillaging, treasure hunting and underage drinking, all that. Hell, the closest thing to a dad I have is a cowardly conman who works me to the bone. I'm down for some godslaying."

Warriors and Sky highfived him. Which was followed by a noogie, a punch to someone's kidney and a bit of a chase around the throne room. All under the (non-evil) laughter of the onlookers.

Then, it dawned on them.

"So, we could have dropped the charade from the very beginning?" Legend asked, incredulous. Months of pretending! Dancing around the subject!

With a sigh and a mumble that might have been a 'typical', Warriors nodded. "That's what happens when members of a team keep secrets from each other."

"To be fair," Four said, "we had good reasons to believe we should keep our true allegiances secret. Who wants to say 'I'm a disciple of darkness' to eight heroes of legend?"

"Hmm, hello?" Legend waved at himself, unamused.

Time breathed deeply, a twitch working under his jaw. "Never say that again," he hissed. At the curious looks he got, he added: "You wouldn't understand."

"So," Twilight said, clasping hands together, "how do we go about this then? Does anything change or...?"

"Besides the obvious?" Wild snarked.

"Yeah, besides that," Twilight replied, equally deadpan.

Warriors slid back between them with his usual flourish, though his focus was spread across the whole group. "I say we need to at least re-establish our priorities, now that it's out in the open."

Thus, they gathered much closer than before, shoulders to shoulders. Dark Link had long abandoned the idea of a surprise attack. Messing with heroes was fun, idiots had lines they didn't cross. Those gremlins he'd led on a wild goose chase apparently had more teeth than sharks. Evil, malice-infected sharks.

"Alright, so we are in agreement," Time said once the group talk had ended, "we will kill all the gods and remake the world in our images. Lost loved ones will be restored as will lost civilizations. Orphans and toddlers won't be drafted into hopeless battle against monstrosities. Sleeping-in will not be a pipe dream. Water will be drinkable. As will be booze."

Wind pouted. "I still say the booze to water ratio should be higher."

Warriors chuckled and ruffled his hair. "One cannot live entirely on booze, little brother."

Wind shot him a weirded out look. "What are you talking about? The hell do you think pirates live on?"

A gloved hand moved between the two before the argument could be taken seriously.

"There will be time to discuss the details later. For now, we ought to make progress on our primary objective."

At this very moment, one of the pillars in the throne room wobbled and toppled over, crashing with such ruckus that even a comatose Sky would have been awakened. Behind the dust cloud created from the impact, a frozen Dark Link stared at them all with the confidence of the mouse before a pack of wolves.

"Well, this is awkward."

"Shut up, Legend," Twilight groaned. "Just because we're all openly evil instead of covertly doesn't mean you should snark more."

"Bite me, wolfboy."

"You wanna go, bunnyboy?"

Warriors separated them. It was far too early to lose someone to in-fighting. At least a day needed to go by before that would be considered acceptable. There were rules to proper evil forces, after all.

"Right, anyway, Dark Link," - Time smiled tightly, eight bloodthirsty fallen heroes behind him, eyes alit with malice - "how about we make a deal?"

[iloveyou3thousand]

Tony's birthday is coming up and Peter doesn't have any money for his boyfriend.

I’ve had this idea for a looong time so I’m glad I’m finally getting a good excuse to write it :p Enjoy :)

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Peter takes a deep breath in, and a deep breath out, and opens up the jar to empty the contents onto his empty desk.

He’s been saving every penny he can spare, putting them all into the jar, and now it’s time to see how much he’s accumulated over the past few months.

He tries not to think about the few times that he needed to take a couple of dollars out of there to get something fixed, or to be able to go out for lunch with his friends, or to put towards some new clothes from the thrift store. Even despite that he must have been able to save quite a bit, right? He’s been putting money in the jar for what feels like ages.

But when he’s done counting every single coin, he’s just a few pennies shy of twenty dollars, and his heart sinks into his stomach.

The best he’s going to be able to buy with that is a half decent box of chocolates. But that’s not anything special. He needs to have something special.

He’s been with Tony for about eight months and some change now, and his birthday is coming up, and Peter wants so desperately to give him something special – but how can he give him something special when Tony is a man who practically has it all when all Peter has to his name is 19 dollars and 86 cents?

It nearly makes him cry, dropping his forehead to his desk with a loud thud. What is he going to do now? Tony’s birthday is in less than a week and he’s got nothing to show for it. He’s not going to ask other people for money because then it won’t be his present when he gives it to Tony, and anyway, he doesn’t even know what he wants to buy for him.

Peter puts the money away again and just tells himself that he’ll find something. Hell, maybe he’ll just…steal some of May’s lingerie that he pretends he doesn’t know about, and show up on Tony’s doorstep half naked. That’s something that people do in movies sometimes. Peter is half convinced that Tony would like that, too.

The next day and five days to Tony’s birthday, there’s aliens in town again, and while they’re in the middle of battle, suddenly Peter has an idea.

He locks himself into Tony’s workshop the minute they get back to the compound, and doesn’t get out the rest of the day.

Technically this might be cheating, but it doesn’t matter. It’s something that’s going to take Tony by surprise, and that’s really all that Peter can ask for at this point. He just wants something that will make Tony smile.

It takes a couple of days to finish because whenever Tony is in the workshop, Peter can’t really work on it. And Tony is in the workshop a lot.

He works all throughout the night the day before Tony’s birthday, and even manages to convince Tony to go and get some sleep, that if he does he’ll have coffee ready for him in the morning.

And Peter does.

Around 5:30, he finishes his project and swings into the city to spend his last couple of dollars on a box of donuts from a 24-hour place that Tony loves, then comes back and brews a big pot of coffee for him, making it nice and strong. Tony’s alarm goes at six as it always does, and when he wakes he’s met with a text from Peter telling him to come directly down into the workshop.

Peter’s standing by the door to greet him, looking visibly excited and nervous at the same time. He leads Tony over to his workbench, which Peter tidied up earlier so he could display the pot of coffee with Tony’s favorite mug sitting next to it, the box of donuts right beside it, both surrounded by some decorations that Peter threw together.

“What is all this?” Tony asks, puzzled.

“Surprise!” Peter exclaims.

He pours Tony a mug of coffee while Tony picks out a donut and takes a big bite.

“What’d I do to deserve all this?” He asks when he’s washed the mouthful down with a swig of hot coffee.

Peter gives him a look as if to say ‘like you don’t know’, and produces a sleek black metal case with a white bow that Peter fashioned out of a piece of paper on top, biting at his lower lip to try and contain his excited smile.

“Happy birthday, Tony,” he says. Recognition sparks in Tony’s eyes before he looks down at the suitcase with a curious kind of wonder.

“Don’t tell me you put all your life savings into buying me a gift, Peter,” Tony warns as he puts down his donut and coffee and wipes his hands before he carefully takes the case.

Peter shakes his head. “I didn’t. I spent those on the donuts.”

Tony looks horrified for a second before Peter flashes him a grin and taps his arm quickly. “C’mon, open it!”

Tony sets the case down on the workbench and flips the locks to open it. Inside lay two hot-rod red, metal devices. They look familiar and yet not quite. Like he’s supposed to know what they are and yet it takes Tony a second to realize what he’s looking at, taking one of the devices out of the soft foam that holds them in place.

Peter is watching Tony with bated breath, his heart racing all the way up in his throat. He almost feels sick with nerves. If Tony doesn’t like this then he doesn’t know what he’s going to do.

He feels like he’s about to burst when Tony picks one up and turns it around in his hands.

“They’re webshooter extensions,” Peter pipes up, unable to keep the words contained any longer, unable to watch Tony fumble, and once he starts he can’t stop, “For the Iron Man suit. I haven’t been able to actually test them out on one of your suits for obvious reasons so I have no idea if they really work and I mean you probably won’t use them anyway because the Iron Man suit doesn’t need anything like that and you’ve always got me there to help you out if you do anyway but Aunt May said…”

He trails off, and takes a deep breath, trying not to get flustered by the way Tony is looking at him.

“Aunt May always says that it’s the thought that counts. Do you…like them?”

Tony hasn’t said a word yet and Peter is anxious for some answers, although he is looking at Peter in that fondly exasperated way he always looks at him when he’s said too much. Or just a lot, all at once.

Tony slowly puts the extension down so that he can turn to Peter and wrap him up in a tight hug. Peter immediately hugs back and lets out a soft little ‘oh’ when Tony presses a kiss to the crook of his neck.

When he pulls back, Tony’s gaze is just as soft as his words as he cups Peter’s cheek.

“Peter Benjamin Parker. I have never loved anything, or anyone for that matter, more than I do this, and you.”

Needless to say, it’s a pretty successful birthday.