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reallyhatethiswebsite · 2 months

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You wake Raphael with a blowjob. This is sin I don't know what else to tell you

Raphael/gender neutral reader (or Tav, just in 2nd person) I haven't written this way in a while so 🤷

Contains blowjobs/oral, somnophilia (kind of), very mild sexual degradation, explicit content/description (can't stress that enough)

It’s sweltering in the bed – Avernus, thick duvet, and a sleeping cambion will do that – but nothing could make you leave. He’s finally let you spend the night here, between the sheets, with him. You’ve been awake for a while, watching him. He’s not graceful. His mouth is open, fangs on display, and he’s snoring softly. He’s on his back, his tail and one wing hanging off the side of the bed, the other squashed beneath him. His perfect hair is tousled amidst his mighty horns. He looks younger this way. Lines of stress on his face eased with relaxation. He’s naked. When you tug the quilt away, he doesn’t stir.

You shamelessly admire his body. His broad chest dusted with dark hair, the sculpture of his tight muscles that soften around his middle just enough to bely his age and indulgence, the infernal ridges of his cherry-red skin that form into a V shape as they descend his hips and pelvis, his deliciously thick thighs, and of course his cock between them, half-hard beneath a little crown of well-groomed pubic hair. Is it morning wood, you wonder, or is he having an interesting dream? Because you can, you reach out and touch it, squeeze it, tug his foreskin down to reveal the rest of his cock’s peeking head. He’s so warm and pliant in your hand. With the tip of your index finger you follow the path of a vein from the underside of his glans to his base. His prick twitches. He releases a soft sigh but doesn’t wake.

His cock is handsome; decently long, thick, slightly darker red than the rest of his skin, and it has those same infernal ridges that feel incredible inside you. You want this cock in your mouth. You can’t resist rubbing it a few more times, feeling it stiffen further in your grip. He sleeps on, even as you move, nudging his legs apart so you can fit between them, laying on your belly. Your humid breaths on his length must do something though, because you hear his tail thump against the bed. Licking the pad of your thumb, you press into his tiny slit and rub. He groans. You think you’ve at last woken him; you glance up, expecting to see eyes of obsidian and fire fixed on you, but he’s still asleep, though a little frown has formed on his brow. He’s fully hard now. The magma that is his lifeblood pulses throughout the bulging veins feeding his cock. A pearlescent bead of precum oozes from his hole beneath your thumb and it’s so hot it’s almost uncomfortable. It tastes salty and its temperature stings on your tongue. It isn’t unpleasant.

At first you start with kitten licks, tracing the edges of his glans and the fleshy ridges that sit under them. He feels like velvet and steel. The throb of his quickening pulse gives you a soft rush of power knowing you’re the cause. Flattening your tongue, you lick the entire underside of his length from base to tip, lingering once more on that sweet, now-sticky slit. You push into it, taking his head in the cavern of your mouth so you can suckle the next little gush of cum. His hips jerk, weak and clumsy.

“Ah…” His vocalisation is throaty, slurred. If he wasn’t having a good dream before, he is now.

When you release his prick to lather more spit, it bounces softly with a quiet thud against his abdomen. You watch it leak translucent cum onto his belly. His balls are fat and full of hot seed and you can’t resist cupping them, rolling their weight in your palm, squeezing ever so gently. His hips move aimlessly again. You know he likes that. He likes it when you suck them, too. Makes him finish in record time. That’s for later. For now, you guide his cock back into your mouth and this time you take as much as you can, until the head threatens to touch the back of your throat. Then you hold him there, adjusting to the size and feel of him, revelling in the heavy press of his prick against your tongue and teeth. He fills your mouth. He tastes like sweat, musk, and soap. Your nose almost brushes his pubes and you can smell the cherry oil he bathed with last night. He moans, a choked, stuttered sound. When you’re ready, you get to work.

Easy rhythm. Easy lover. You bob your head up and down, sucking hard and fast. What your mouth can’t take, your hand picks up the slack. It’s sloppy. Messy. Obscene. Wet. Perfect. The sounds of your greedy devouring of his cock could make an incubus blush. His legs have fallen open, the unconscious roll of his hips hungry for the warmth and slickness of your throat. His little gasps and sighs and tail thumps are secret music only for you to hear – until it stops, cut off by a sharp inhale. He tenses. A large hand settles on your head, claws scraping your scalp as fingers tangle in your hair.

He's awake.

His prick noisily pops free, shining with your spit. Drool and cum linger on your lips. You lean your cheek on his thigh and look up at him adoringly. His eyes are half-open, glazed by sleep, expression unreadable but simmering with heat. His cheeks are dark, taken by devilish flush. He steals your breath away.

“Good morning, Raphael,” you murmur. For a moment he says nothing. He's deciding if he will tolerate this behaviour, this brief play at control. Then he yanks your hair, mouth twisting.

“Finish what you started,” he snarls, raspy, voice thick.

He doesn't have to tell you twice.

The moment your damp lips part, he slides his cock betwixt them once more. He’s much more active of a participant now, and you definitely feel it. Lazy, selfish thrusts as he uses your mouth, fucks your mouth, caring little for your comfort. You started this, after all. Your jaw aches so good. You have to take in air through your nose. He's going to make you choke on his prick, and you're damned, you know you are, because the thought gets your blood boiling and your heart races. He's of a similar mind, if the cruel set of his desire splayed plainly on his face says anything. You keep your gaze on him even as your eyes water. You want to impress the picture of him - sharp jaw clenched, sneering down at you - deep into the primal parts of your memory.

“That's a good pet,” he husks, the gravel of sleep still in his throat. He's breathing hard. He spreads his legs wider, forcing more of his length in. Your nose finally touches his soft pubes and you can't stop your gag as he reaches your limit. You can't get enough. You're slobbering all over him. Your teeth scrape his cock's ridges and the sound he makes is euphoric, pure and shameless in its pleasure.

He's going to finish. You can tell by the way his thighs tremble, the way his prick throbs, the way his balls tighten. You grab them, fondle, tease your fingertips across the sensitive skin of his perineum with the promise of going lower, between his cheeks to touch his other hole, no doubt puckered and twitching right now, and that's what does him in. His eyes roll back, fangs bared in a pleasured grimace. He grunts, deep and growly, tapering off into a breathless moan as spurts of hot cum shoot down your throat. You have no choice but to swallow the load; even if you could choose, you'd suck him dry every time. His seed burns on the way down. He fists your hair tight, thrusts shallow as he rides the tail of his orgasm. His tail thrashes. You kiss and lick his cockhead until it's too much and he hisses, pulls you away. Sad that you won't get to feel his dick soften in your mouth, but you can still see it do so. His taste lingers. Your gums tingle.

He pants, a thin, fetching sheen of sweat coating his face and chest. He stares at you, watches you watch him. You have no idea what you look like. You're a mess, probably. You don't care. He loosens his grip on your hair, lightly dragging his claws across your scalp until you shiver.

“From this point forward, unless I say otherwise, you will wake me this way every morning,” he states. He strokes your cheek, your lips, catches a smear of his cum you missed on the pad of his thumb. He pushes it into your mouth and you obediently suck it clean. His nostrils flare, pupils blown. You smile.

“Yes, Master.”

#baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 raphael #raphael x tav #raphael x reader #fanfic #jfc this man makes me feral #cringe #sorry

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adventuringblind · 2 months

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Pieces From You

Carlos Sainz Jr. x Reader

Genre: Ghoulverse Hurt-comfort

Summary: Carlos catches fleeting moments of pain through his mating bond. When he finds her being cut open, Carlos has to act fast and choose between revenge and saving the girl he loves.

Warnings: Blood, Ghouls eat people and is a major plot point, gore, Jos Verstappen's A+ parenting, abuse, anxiety, hospitals, mentions of sexual things, Landoscar being chaotic, protective big brother Max

Notes: For 🏍, I loved getting to write for my ghoul boys again, so I really hope you like it! T_T

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

It's not like he was planning to run around the paddock like a maniac. It was the last thing he wanted to have on his agenda for today. However, the tie between him and his mate has him searching for her.

Whatever is causing her this pain needs to be eliminated. Carlos is doing his best to keep himself steady as he searches. He has a feeling he already knows what's happening. Or, at the very least, has an idea.

Max's baby sister had been on the unfortunate end of not receiving whatever gene makes them ghoul. Despite being pureblooded and the rest of her family having it. An anomaly that's made her different; a black sheep in her own home. That being said, Max has always been obnoxiously protective of her despite their fathers wants.

Carlos had seen the scars and bite marks. He'd seen the way she'd offered herself up on a silver platter when Max first introduced them all those years ago. It was customary for her, apparently, to let ghouls take a piece of her body. It hurt knowing even her father has taken bites out of her. Most likely, that’s what is happening now despite the fact she has his bonding venom seeping through her veins.

It hadn’t taken long for him to realize the what was happening between them. That the mating call was there. Max was just a protective batard that wouldn’t let him anywhere near her until he proved himself. Which - considering her situation - made Carlos feel a little better.

Max had tried his best; he’s still trying his best. The piece of horn Max burned off for her rests against her neck. Carlos’ joined beside his while they were dating. He discovered how bad it hurts to lose a piece of the bone. Yeah, it’ll grow back, but in the moment he was a blubbering mess and she was the one holding his hand.

With two horn pieces and a scarred over bonding mark, this shouldn’t be happening anymore. Nobody should be laying a finger on her; on his mate.

Carlos makes his way to the Redbull garage. He’d spent the last hour in debrief and already searched all of his. If she’s not there, then she’s probably around Max. Or was trying to be around him and got separated. Worse - max could be the source of her pain. Prince of the ghouls or not, he won’t hesitate to rip him apart if that’s the case.

He dives into the Redbull garage and follows his nose. Not the best of his species but it works. It’s his ears that work better and as he turns a corner, he finds he doesn’t need his nose anymore. Carlos can hear her wailing for either himself or Max. the latter must not be around if he’s not already fighting whoever has the audacity to try and hurt Carlos’ lover.

He slides around the corner and snarls at the, ironically, human offender. She's wailing at the man, trying to shove him off but failing despite her best efforts. It doesn't help this guy has gravity on his side with a knee in her chest. He's carving out pieces of her, slowly and methodically.

The red on the floor and the tang of metal burning his nose. He has to do everything in his willpower not to make a show of it. If he risks himself, he can't help her.

He settles for dragging the man backwards, wrestling the knife away from him. "Funny, I thought humans didn't eat people." Carlos tosses the struggling body to the side and makes for the girl on the floor.

"Pretty bite mark on her neck, wouldn't you say?" The cocky smile on the mans face nearly sends Carlos into a frenzy. "Figured I should show her what's gonna happen eventually."

"Ah yes, hurt the innocent because that's how to win them to your side." This time - he does abandon the original plan and flashes his elongated canines at him. Carlos' eyes darken when the man shrinks backwards and hauls ass in the other direction. Carlos will deal with him later.

With nothing else around to try and stop the bleeding, Carlos sheds his own shirt and wraps it around the gaping wound in her. He should not be able to see that much of the under part of her skin.

"I tried to get him off-"

"I know, you did so well amor. Just keep your eyes on me now, yeah?"

He pulls out his phone and rings Lando. He silently pleads that the Brit picks up because there is no way Carlos is going to get into emergency with her like this. Not when it's standard to test everyone who walks through the doors.

"Hola~ You've reached Lando!"

"Need you in the Redbull garage."

Carlos can hear Lando's chipper mood fade away. "Everything alright?"

"Need your human self to get her to emergency. Also, bring Oscar with you." The girl underneath him whines as he tries to keep pressure on the wound.

"And why would you need my mate for considering he can't get into emergency either?"

"Well - I'm going to need him to stop me and Max from doing anything stupid."

Carlos and Max are pacing the floor. He feels like he's explained the situation to the Dutch a hundred time now and he's still not computing.

"But he was human?"

Oscar knocks his head against the door. A smart move, considering it's the only exit. "He was proving a point."

"It was the wrong one," Max huffs and crosses his arms. Twenty-six now and Max still has the ability to look like Carlos' seventeen year old teammate who pouted when his voice cracked. His sister had been younger then and Max wouldn't let her near the track; not until she was an adult. Even then it was a pain.

His phone rings with Lando's contact. The Facetime call makes him hope that he'll get to see his girl awake.

Lando's face fills the screen, a little smile on his face. "I figured you would want proof of life." He pans the camera over to her and the blinking heart monitor and her blinking eyes. She tries to smile at him, but it's lopsided. "Her arm is pretty messed up and they are getting ready for surgery, but she'll be alright."

Carlos' heart settles a bit. He won't be able to calm completely until she is back in his arms. It helps know that she is at least okay and breathing.

Max throws himself in front of Carlos’ phone screen. “Thanks for being with her Lando.”

“I can’t have my emotional support tribe human dying on me! I would die with the three of you all alone! Oscar could dick me down for days and I still would be stressed!”

“Are you saying my dick isn’t good enough?” Max and Carlos turn to look at Oscar as Lando is now blushing furiously on the phone screen.

“That’s not - you know that’s not what I meant!”

There is nothing more terrifying than Oscar's calm expression with the slightest hint of a smirk. "Uh-huh, nice try. If you can walk tomorrow, then you're not walking anywhere until you can't do it without stumbling."

There is a slurred laugh of Carlos' love echoes through the speakers of the phone. "Maybe Lando will be in here with me."

Carlos can't help but lose it. All he wants is to wrap her up in his arms. Let Lando try to outrun Oscar and laugh when he's limping to the airport and can't sit right on Max's jet.

Really, he just wants her.

"When will the surgery be done?"

"They are estimating late tonight, depending. Might be faster than that."

Carlos looks at Max and Oscar. "I think we have time to do some hunting, wouldn't you say?"

He receives a couple of smirks in return.

She cracks her eyes open, disoriented, and groggy. Her arm hurts, and the memory of being pinned hits her harder than ever.

She sits up in a hurry, franticly looking to see if she's alone. Lando appears in the corner of her eye and gently pushes her back down. "You're alright now. Doctors got you all patched up." He smiles at her gently despite the hesitancy in his eyes.

"Where's Carlos?" Her voice is in shambles and makes her cringe.

Lando keeps a hand on her bicep. "He's with Max and Oscar. Want to see if he'll pick up?"

She nods her head yes, excited to see her savior. Though her plans are foiled when her doctor cones in. Her eyes widen at seeing the male, not the same one, but similar to her attacker.

She stays small and quiet as he goes about his work, checking her charts. He leans down to listen to her heart and whispers. "I saw the mark, don't worry, I'm one of them. I know how to get your mate in here if you would like?"

Both her and Lando are nodding frantically. The waiting is miserable, but they pass the time with light conversation and cartoons.

The doctor comes back in with the three ghouls in tow. They are chatting away like nothing is the matter. He does another once over if her vitals before leaving them to their own devices.

As in, she drags Carlos into the bed with her. He takes the side that has her good arm and cradles her injured arm gently. He gently runs his fingers along the bandages. "He's gone now. You won't ever have to worry about him again."

She peers up into his eyes. "Why's that?"

The three ghouls share a look, and Lando gives Oscar a skeptical glare. "What did you three do?"

"Revenge tastes delicious sometimes." Max giggles and winks at her. To most it be unsettling. To her, it brings a sense of comfort.

Later into the night, when the other three boys are asleep, she lays away on Carlos' chest. He's been trying to get her to sleep for an hour now, but there is an unsettling anxiety after today's events. There are too many possibilities.

"Sleep, mi amor. I can feel you thinking too much."

"I'm scared... it's not just my dad anymore. I thought I would be able to flash my mating mark and be safe. It's the humans, too, though. Am I... am I like them now? If I'm not giving myself to solve the problem, then am I adding to it?" It feels to say it aloud. All those heavy thoughts finally lifted off her chest.

Carlos continues his soothing motion on her head. He tucks her closer to his chest. "You never have been and never will be a problem. It's others who fight amongst themselves over mindless disagreements and differing opinions. You are someone who can understand us. You don't intend on hurting anyone." She can feel his love for her radiating through her veins as he continues. "What happened today wasn't your fault. That was someone else being cruel because they were scared."

"You are my everything, Carlos. I just want to help."

"You help me by being alive; by being yourself. A fighter who isn't afraid to throw herself in front of an apex predator if it means protecting them."

Carlos looks at her with adoration in his eyes. He cups her face gently, fingers brushing over the bite mark on her clavicle as he moves upward.

"I couldn't have chosen anyone better. You are perfect, and in time, I think you're going to make this world a better place."

With the need for reassurance her mind was craving now sated, she rests peacefully. Immune to the world around her and safe in Carlos' arms. It's a good feeling to know that he's not just protecting her; she's doing the same for him.

... Even if it isn't always the outcome she wanted.

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phantoms-lair · 6 months

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You wanted Red Hood vs Overhaul, you got it

Eri clutched Deku tightly and he sped away, Overhaul right on their trail leaving a swath of destroyed objects and people in his wake. And as soon as he caught up to them, that was going to be Deku. He was going to die because he wanted to protect her.

Deku was wrong. She was a curse. She clutched his shoulders tighter, tears welling in her eyes. Her horn began to glow as her quirk subconsciously activated. Because of her Daddy disappeared, and then Overhaul used her to make his bullets to steal other people's powers. She'd caused nothing but pain and misery, she was the one who should disappear!

Her horn grew as her quirk tried to activate. But much like you can't uninstall a computer program that's running, Rewind couldn't erase itself or it's user while it was activated. Eri's despair tried to force it over and over again. Just as Overhaul's outstretched hand was about to brush Deku's back Rewind divided by zero and they all vanished.

It was the smell that hit Midoriya first. The air around him had been full of dust and the scent of blood. Suddenly there was none of that, but an almost nauseating amount of fumes and unwashed humanity. Also they were in free fall.

He quickly assessed. He wasn't in Tokyo anymore. The cars were on the wrong side of the road and the signs in English. But all that quickly was overshadowed by the horror that they were in a residential area.

He had to get Eri to safety while luring Overhaul away from the area. He did his best to get they lay of the land before he'd fallen enough for buildings to block his view. Looked like there was a harbor. Maybe if he could get him there, there'd be less people for him to destroy. And hopefully some local heroes would come to help.

Path set, Midoriya used Full Cowling to kick off a building and launch himself away.

"Anyone have eyes on what the Hell is happening?!" Hood demanded over the coms.

"Two metas, Boss. One Robin-aged, one adult. Robin-aged one has what looks to be a small child. He's fleeing from the adult and heading towards the harbor. Small child looks to be injured."

Hood adjusted the route his motorcycle was going in order to better intercept. "How badly injured?"

"Bandages on her arms and legs, but it's hard to get close enough to see more, sorry." His lieutenant sounded apologetic, but from the sounds of Hood could hear from back where he was he couldn't blame her. "Powers?" Might as well know what he was getting into.

"Robin-aged seems to have some green lightning around him, but he's not projecting it. It seems to give him either a strength or speed boost, hard to tell when all he's doing is running. Adult looks like he can destroy or remake anything his touches and - Gah."

"Did you get hit?"

"Negative, sorry for scaring you, sir, Adult caught a piece of his own shrapnel in his eye. He then touched his face with his hand and half of it exploded, then reformed. I wasn't expecting it."

Good to know. Especially because she might have just told him exactly how to take this guy down. "I'm going to intercept the kids. Deploy Code Beta Omega on my mark." Hood's helmet switched modes from camera to radar as he pulled his bike even with the fleeing kid (who was definitely getting a speed boost out of his power if nothing else) as his people set off numerous bright flares right in front of the adult meta's face, followed by wide area smoke bombs. "Need some help?"

"Are you a local hero?" The older kid asked in very heavily Japanese accented English.

"I'm the protector of this area." Thankfully Japanese was one of the languages he was fluent in, so he could speak to the kid in his own language. "Get on."

The boy hopped on, the smaller kid strapped to his back and Hood had to respect his sense of balance. The green lightning vanished as the kid took a breath.

"Can you get Eri to safety?" the boy asked. "I can buy some time with Overhaul. Lure him out to the water where fewer people will get hurt."

The way he said it, it sounded like the cost of that time would be his life. And the littler one, Eri, seemed to pick up on it. "You don't have to do that Deku." she said in a shaky voice. "He won't hurt you if I go back to him. And I'll be fine. He won't kill me, even when he accidently takes too much of my blood, he can just take me apart and put me back together again."

The words were brave but the fear and remembered pain in them was palpable and Hood saw green in a way that had nothing to do with Deku's hair, outfit or lightning. He sharply turned the motor cycle into an alley, where he knew a group of his people would be evacuating civilians. "Get them to the clinic. The girl needs help and the boy probably does too."

The boy looked panicked. "But Overhaul-"

"-is Done." Hood finished. "Overhaul is done."

For a moment the boy looked like he'd bluescreened, then "Overhaul is mysophobia, destroying his mask should get a panic reaction. Especially if you spit on him or something. He's arrogant, sadistic, and enjoys psychological manipulations. He also have some bullets that destroy quirks, so be very wary if he uses a gun over his hands."

"Quirks?" Everything in Hood's soul wanted to get going and destroy the man who'd hurt a child like this.

There was a split second of panic on the boys face as he tried to reword "Powers? His lets him disassemble and reassemble anything he touches in any configuration he chooses."

"Power destroying bullets? Hood laughed. "Kid, I don't think you know where you are. This is Gotham." And with that he left the kids in the hands of his crew and stalked back to where Overhaul was about to meet his end.

The smoke was beginning to clear as Hood strode to Overhaul's location. Deku had given him what information he could, and he appreciated it, really he did. Any other Bat or Bat-Adjacent would have made good use it, especially the mysophobia.

Hood was not going to. He'd already gotten all intel he needed earlier. He took a good look at the man. Huh, when Deku said he had a mask Hood was expecting a standard supervillain mask, not a honest to goodness plague doctor one. He's sure the doctors at Arkham would have a fun time pulling apart this whackjob's psyche.

Not that he was going to give them a chance. Not after hearing a little girl talk about repeatedly being ripped apart and pulled back together.

"Where did they go?" asked Overhaul, in a tone that suggested he was in charge and giving up the intel was the only way Hood would live through the next few minutes.

Cute.

"Doesn't matter. You're never going to see either one ever again." Hood smirked under his helmet. "In fact, enjoy your view of the ass-end of Gotham. It's the last thing you're ever going to see."

Overhaul sneered. "Eri will be so upset. Another person dead because of her. She really is a curse."

The green was overwhelming. The only thing keeping Hood in control was the knowledge that he was going to give the Pit exactly what it wanted.

Overhaul touched the ground and it exploded, rearranging itself as large spikes erupted from the ground. Most people would have been impaled. Most people weren't trained by the Bat, the League of Assassins, and the All-Caste. "You heroes are so annoying. Like any one of you would be able to properly use an asset like her."

"SHE IS A CHILD." Hood roared. One of the spikes nicked him, but only caused surface damage, naturally. It would have been embarrassing to do more than was entirely when one gets hit on purpose. He needed two things. Overhaul provided the presence of absolute evil, and he provided his own blood. With two flashes the All Blades appeared and two hands fell to the ground.

Overhaul stared for a moment. He'd lost arms before and it was easy enough to replace one using the other, but he'd never lost both at once. His mind raced, trying to come up with a solution, and his knees began to buckle.

He never hit the ground however, as Hood caught him by the throat with one hand. With the other he ripped off the mask before pushing Overhauls face into some street sludge. This being Gotham and Crime Alley in particular, who knows what it might have been. Guess he was going to use the kid's info on mysophobia after all.

"It's tempting, you know, to keep you alive just long enough to watch infection set it. But people like you do tend to find a way of rebounding and I'm not going to risk it. I do want to catch up with those kids and make sure they're okay, so I'll give myself...ten minutes? Yeah, ten minutes sounds good. Ten minutes to show you exactly what happens to people who hurt kids in my territory. Ten minutes to make you beg for death, then - like the kind soul I am- answer your prayers."

Overhauls eyes were wide with terror. "But...but you're a hero?"

Hood grinned cruelly under his helmet. "I haven't called myself one of those for a long time. And Babs," he said, seeming to address no one. "I don't want Daddy Bats or any of his crew interfering."

For the next ten minutes, he was going to enjoy himself.

#Ghost Writing #BnHA #Batman #Red Hood #Deku: What did you mean by 'This is Gotham'?#Hood: None of the heroes in Gotham have powers #Deku: You're heroes without quirks? This is a place of quirkless heroes?#Hood: Yeah‚ and it's not like this is the only place like that. Star City-#Deku: *starts sobbing uncontrollably*

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randomwriteronline · 3 months

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Pohatu's dreams are messy.

Anybody's would be, if they had been alive and conscious for nearly one hundred thousand years without ever losing their memory.

In his nightmares he hears the howls of many Av-Matoran as the storm descends upon them far too fast for him to drag them away in in time, and he feels Hydraxon's hand yank him from the shoulder where it hurts most to set him back on his feet because training isn't done yet, it never is, not for a failure like him; he sees his siblings, and that's enough to make him squirm.

In his dreams, most often, he sees the Makuta.

He sees their laboratories, their viruses, their experiments - he used to run from one to the other all the timeto look at them work, because he had no duty nor destiny left to his name, and their tireless tinkering was so mesmerizing, and he was allowed to loiter around them so long as he did nothing except what he was told, which usually meant not touching anything.

But sometimes, sometimes they would let him help: they would let him fetch them components, or give his two widgets worth of an opinion, or they would explain to him the creation process to find the errors in their thinking.

In his dreams he conjures Rahi coming from the vats that would perplex even Mutran. You and horns, he would grumble - he used to grumble - what is it with you and horns?

Who knows what it is, with Pohatu and horns. He just likes them, or so it would seem.

He still remembers when the Vako were created. He likes the Vako: they are fast, and strong, and they have a big horn right in the middle of their heads. It's a shame they can't be tamed, really.

He still remembers it because it was a gift, in a sense. The Makuta that created them (who were they? He can't figure it out: their name, their mask, their appearance were washed away a long time ago, and all he remembers are the long claws, like those of all Makuta, capable of such terrible harm and yet so careful and precise) had called him to see the very first one, and had told him he'd been the inspiration for such a beast. The surprise had caused something warm and good and pleasant to spread through him, a sensation akin to a joyful, beautiful, prideful embarrassment.

He's forgotten a lot of Makuta with time. A lot of them have died, after all - maybe it's for the best, since the living ones have grown so cold towards him.

He doesn't even remember the Makuta who found him heaving loud sobs as he laid pitifully in a tunnel outside of Karda Nui and trying to bend his body to produce tears so that some of his shame could at least leave him. He remembers she'd been a female, because in his dreams her role is often filled by Gorast: he remembers her voice as she'd called him little Toa whilst towering above him in a way no other being ever had; he remembers her eyes going wide and her posture growing stiff as he'd introduce himself with a full title that sounded as hollow and useless as he appeared, spoken softly as he confessed to her his lack of worth: I am Toa Pohatu Mata and I have failed.

He remembers then her claws on his body - cradling him with a graceless clumsiness typical of someone who has never held anything too kindly (and this, too, is something she had in common with Gorast) that was still sweeter than the closest thing that could have been called a caress from Hydraxon's hand. He'd been so awed by the tentative tenderness he'd been offered despite his failure that he had barely registered their journey.

After that, it's a mess. He was so tired. He thinks he might have been laying somewhere, on his side, curled up pathetically, buzzing in and out of sleep. There were voices talking about him, of course, he knows: the whole Brotherhood must have congregated when their sister had dragged him to their door like that.

He remembers arguments on what to do with him, who should keep him, if he should be assigned to a group, to a team, to a fortress, if leaving him anywhere out in the vast terrible world where so many things could have so easily overwhelmed and killed him when he was so valuable to the survival of the Great Spirit would have been a good idea to begin with.

He remembers a voice saying something loudly, and silence. Then steps in his direction, and then...

Miserix looks strange in his dreams.

Miserix had asked him about his siblings, where they were. Pohatu had answered with the truth: I don't know. They abandoned me.

Miserix had thought over it, and decided that it was too dangerous to leave a Toa Mata - possibly the last of them - to fend for himself, alone in the universe; so, the Brotherhood of Makuta welcomed him.

Miserix was nice, despite it all.

It's a shame he didn't follow the Plan.

The Makuta had all been nice to him at first, despite it all.

He'd never been this small before. Hydraxon was tall enough, and his siblings were taller than him as well, but until then he'd been sorrounded by Matoran that barely reached his hip; now he had to twist his neck to look the beings around him in the eyes, and they had to hunch their back to look into his. And there was their awkwardness, too - they had no clue what to do with him, especially at first, when he was barely anything more than a sad sack of depressed rocks sitting in the corners of their labs.

They had little to talk with him about, little for him to keep busy with. But it was very nice, when they did acknowledge him, when they did allow him in their lairs, when they had him test the Rahi to see how they reacted.

They were polite, as he was to them, and he liked their company, and - it seemed - they did not mind his.

He is a fast learner: he knew what to do and what not to do in no time, and what to expect too. For example, you can laugh at Chirox and Mutran's spats but only very quietly, and you can touch anything in Antroz's lab so long as you do not lift any of it from where it sits; you need to steer clear of Tridax because he hates visitors, and if you absolutely have to go to Kojol or Gorast you need to send a message at least half a day earlier so neither will accidentally try to vivisect you for spooking them; neither Vamprah nor Krika will say a word to you but they will know if you leave anything a single centimeter out of place, and so will Icarax - though he will tell you as much, asking if you're looking for a fight, and if you're not careful he will land a punch; Bitil usually has at least one time clone at the ready to keep you out of his face at all times, Miserix is never in the mood for fooling around, and Spiriah is very, very fun to bother without suffering repercussions.

And Teridax...

Teridax is kind.

(Pohatu believes in few things strongly: he believes his siblings don't care for him, he believes he loves the Matoran more than himself, and he believes Teridax is kind.)

(He believes Teridax is kind, because Teridax speaks to him kindly: because Teridax always saw value in him and alway told him as much, always reassured him of his usefulness and worth even when he had no unity nor duty nor destiny; because Teridax was always kind.)

(Few beings are born truly, irrevocably, incontestably evil, and despite his reputation Teridax is not one of them. But it has always been in his nature to plan, to consider his options and scheme for contingencies, and a Toa as powerful as a Mata is always better as an assured ally than a distant acquaintance. He just hadn't realized how starved Pohatu had been for attention of that kind, how desperately he craved it: sooner than he could train himself to stop flinching by reflex upon seeing him so suddenly he had the Toa shyly, eagerly trotting after him, anxious to be helpful, to be useful, to be told that he was more than a waste of space, that he had a purpose and a meaning and a reason to be cared about. Teridax gave him everything he needed, everything - at the cost of everything else.)

In his dreams, memories of kindness are muddled. Certainly, he knows, all the Makuta must have been kind and gentle to him; certainly, he knows, they must have all treated him well. But in his dreams the Mask of Shadows is the only one that presses its forehead against his Kakama so very gently.

Teridax visits him often in his dreams when he's had a nightmare, or when he's too worried, as though sensing his distress.

He likes to dream of his laboratory, so safe and welcoming, of his kraata crawling in his hands curiously, of his claws so carefully shifting him in the right place.

Once he dreamed of being a kraata, curled on his father's lap.

It was one of the best dreams he's ever had.

It was so immediately, terribly obvious that Pohatu had a favorite among the Makuta. (So terribly obvious and terribly disquieting, as his dependency on Teridax grew.) Bitil sneers about it still - about the leash tight around that neck of Stone, about his brother being the only one who gets to have a pet. Pohatu never understood the joke he and the rest of the Brotherhood seem to share about him, and has grown to hate it. He has grown to hate -- no, that's a word reserved for his siblings; he has grown to resent the other Makuta.

It's not a stable feeling, it ebbs and flows, depends on the day; but they are not shy about their acquired distaste for him as they regard him distantly, coldly.

In turn, he is not shy about not appreciating their disgust either.

If they had not deserted him all of a sudden, if they had not found his company so bothersome, perhaps this wouldn't have happened.

(Pohatu is a frail thing, so easy to win, so easy to lose: Teridax knows this, and in his wisdom isolated him. So the only love he can gain, the only one that matters, is the one Teridax rewards his obedience with; and in his blind and deaf servitude he is ecstatic.)

Sometimes he dreams of Matoran.

It's much less common, as those can quickly become paralyzing night terrors in little to no time - though the Island of Mata Nui has been calming his fears so far, since it's much easier to beat back a Rahi than it is evading an energy storm.

He's started dreaming of Takua often, in truth.

It was a pleasant surprise, despite the Nui-Jaga and the momentary blindness. He was convinced he'd never see any of the Av-Matoran again, and here is Karda Nui's local troublemaker, all mismatched colors and no memories and still the same exact wanderlust putting his little feet to work trudging miles upon miles. At least the island is big and the Wahi well connected enough for him to go from one place to another without putting himself in too much danger.

It's a shame he doesn't remember him. Takua once asked him for kicking lessons and made a proper fool of himself at the first attempt, but it was good fun. They could have laughed about it again.

He might be the one thing he truly could have missed from Karda Nui. He's glad to see him enjoy himself.

Lewa has started dreaming of him too, he's confided in him, because Pohatu is easy to talk to and everybody confides in him. Gali as well, and Onua mentioned it in passing - even Tahu answered him positively when he asked. Kopaka says nothing if he can help it, of course, but the long sleep must have made him sloppy enough to cave in after only the slightest insistent pestering.

This sort of thing reeks of destiny.

It's not like Mata Nui hasn't had all the time to get on his nerves - for his siblings, for his chosen Toa, for the undeserved zealous idolatry he demands of the Matoran without ever looking at them.

He and the Turaga must have something in store for his little Light brother, he's certain. Something that will drag him to his death.

His muscles seize when he sees the Avohki bathe Jaller in light.

Ah... Of course.

Of course.

His nightmares become bright when Takanuva bursts to smithereens within them, torn apart by his own glow, screaming in fear.

He whispers for Teridax to help him as his heartlight flickers erratically, and when he shuts his eyes he breathes deeply, deeply, until what he sees is Takua and Jaller and Akhmou playing with the docile, gentle kraata on the floor of the Makuta's laboratory, as Teridax soothes the Toa in a kind embrace, like a parent soothes a child: see?, his voice rumbles so gently. Nothing to worry about. Nothing to worry about.

#bionicle #pohatu #makuta #brotherhood of makuta #teridax #takua #random writing #orpiment au #<-tag for the au where pohatu never entered the codrax and got taken in by the makuta and stewed in a lot of hatred for 100 thousand years #this is in a sense the backstory chapter to explain some stuff #might be incoherent or repetitive at times but in my defense 1) its late 2) talking abt dreams #please please please please tell me what u think of it i need it like a lifeline

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izthepup · 1 year

Text

How You Cuddle + Hug

———Kratos———

- He doesn't really know how to react to affection

- He only rarely gave Atreus hugs, even then he wasn't really sure what to do

- Cuddles only when alone

- Or behind closed doors

- Same for hugs

- For hugs, you might start running at him and jump into his arms

- These hugs are probably gonna lead to cuddles, which happen like.. once a month.

- But if he is haunted with nightmares?

- Plenty of cuddles

- When you cuddle, he might just be sitting and you come up to him

- You could flop onto your belly by him, and he might rub your head

- Cuddles when you guys are alone

- Or you might just like- lay on his chest, and he'll rub your head slowly

- You'll probably fall asleep, ngl-

———Freya———

- She isn't really used to cuddles or hugs

- Last hug / cuddle she gave was...

- When her sons would give her hugs, probably.

- Maybe Atreus was hugged once.

- You would just hug each other normally

- Maybe some back rubbing

- Or one of you will rub the back of the other's head

- Normal hugs maybe something like this

- Hugs rarely in front of others

- Cuddles only behind closed doors

- Or alone

- Both cuddles and hugs are pretty calm

- Most of the time that you two cuddle at least one of you falls asleep

———Atreus———

- This boi is a little shy about hugs and cuddles

- Cuddles behind closed doors

- Sometimes y'all hug in front of others

- Especially if Atreus is sad or in a bad mood

- At least Two ways you guys hug most of the time

- Hugs might be like this

- (He's always gonna be the dog, no matter if he's not in the wolf form)

- or one of you is gonna be hugged and the other is just gonna nuzzle the one hugging

- Even alone, he's some what nervous of cuddling

- Never really cuddled before hanging out with you

- You also have at least three ways of cuddling

- You two sometimes nuzzle each other when cuddling

- or you lay side by side, one having the arm around the other

- or you two might cuddle how dogs / wolves would

- AkA one leans against the other, and one of you probably have your arm around either the other's torso or around the neck- well, not completely on the neck

- You cuddle like this the most

- You switch roles of who's laying their head on the other, and having the arm around

———Mimir———

- I mean he can't really hug

- But you do like all of the hugging and cuddling so it's good

- It's awkward to hug since he has no arms or torso

- You don't really hug unless it's alone

- Cause it is very awkward trying to hug his like- his neck

- When you do hug, it's mainly like this

- (You have to ignore the rest of the body lol- only you hugging his neck)

- You are the grey cat

- Cuddles are mainly like this

- You put your arm around his head

- Sometimes you rest your head between his horns

- You sometimes cuddle when you aren't behind closed doors

- If it isn't behind closed doors, it's mainly alone

- Only because Mimir convinced you

- "Oh, c'mon (brother/sister/sibling), don't be scared of showing affection in front of others! We can still 'cuddle' how you planned, all alone, but I don't see why you're scared."

- He somewhat teases you until you give in

- it is very awkward

- "Carry on brother, you don't need to stare."

———Sindri———

- He loves you very much but.

- He refuses to cuddle in front of others

- But he will take a hug every now and then in front of others

- You have at least two ways to hug

- One way hugs start out as

- this is if you surprise him into a hug

- he's the brown bear

- But after he gets over the surprise, or just a sort of normal hug one way it turns out is

- This could be if he's busy

- He'll pause for a moment, before going back

- You sorta nuzzle him

- The other ways it could turn out if he wasn't busy

- He'd be the white cat, sometimes you lift him up a little

- or

- He'd be the gal, you'd sorta pet or rub his head

- It kind of embarrasses him in front of others, and he might move away but he'll tell you, "Later" by pointing his finger at you.

- He will just do a normal hug

- Or the first non-busy one

- When he is in front of others

- His cuddles though-

- He's a little braver with his cuddles

- Still not too brave though

- Sorry sindri

- He might lay on his belly and you pet his head

- Tbh he can kinda be like a cat

- But surprisingly?

- He might just hug you out of nowhere and kiss right below your eye

- But if he's feeling brave

- He'll be the one to start the cuddle, and he'll use you as a pillow

- There's two ways he could be when he's brave

- You could just be vibing on a couch or something

- Sindri pops up

- And he might literally just like- fall onto you

- Or

- He might sit on your shoulders while you are on your belly

- When he does that, he'll kiss your head and forehead Sorry my gifs were breaking so some of them are just pictures- yes, I'm sorry not sorry, I made sindri's the longest. He needs love after all he's lost- Also yes he's one of my favorite characters tbh- well, one of them that ISNT a wolf :D

EDIT: IM SORRY SOME OF THE GIFS BROKE BUT IM LAZY SO INSTEAD OF FIGURING OUT THE PROBLEM AND PUTTING GIFS, ILL JUST DESCRIBE THEM-

#godofwar #godofwarragnarok #gow #gowr #god of war #god of war ragnarok #scenarios #atreus #freya #god of war scenarios #Sindri #kratos #gow ragnarok #mimir #headcanons #headcannons #head canons #head cannons

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babybammargera · 1 year

Text

Pranking Vito

Raab x reader (but it's mostly just messing w vito)

"I don't wanna help Vito move. Do we have to be up at 7 am?" You sit on the Margera couch between Raab and Ryan, your boyfriend throws his arms around you and Ry to puts his gross sock clad feet in your lap. April pushes Bam and Dico into the room, both still in pjs, clearly had just woke up and got dragged downstairs like you, "It sucks but someones gotta do it or he'll just keep up with his tantrum and you know it." Bam had no doubt tried to whine his way out but it clearly hadn't worked on his already fed up mom. "Jess is almost here with him, the quicker you help him into the new house the faster he's out of our hair. I don't want to hear another word about it until it's done. Now to the kitchen you need to eat." The group sleepily follows Ape, knowing that even if no one had an appetite this early you'd need caffeine to deal with Vito. After Ape feeds everyone and a pot of coffee is consumed between the 5 of you the sound of Vito echos through the front door. His voice causes the entire group to groan, earning a glare from April. You stand up, "Better get dressed." You run up the stairs with the boys following, narrowly avoiding Vito. After you and Raab get dressed there's a knock on the door, it opens to reveal Bam, "I already told Ry the plan, we prank Vito every chance we get today. He won't ask us to help again. You two in?" Raab nods and looks at you, "I'm down. Babe?" You grin, "He's a total creep. I'm in." Bam clearly satisfied with this answer leaves the room to tell Dico his plan. You follow Raab downstairs to join the rest of the guys who are already over Vito's antics. He yells, "about time you come down! Hurry up!" You roll your eyes and Raab pulls you to Ryan's car. After a 30 min drive Ry parks behind the moving truck as Jess jumps out. You climb out of the back seat and wave him over whispering Bam's plan to him as soon as he's close enough. He nods and opens the truck as Vito waddles to the front door to unlock it. As soon as the key hits the lock Bam honks his horn causing him to jump and drop his keys, "Dammit Bam!" Bam shrugs, "My bad Vito." Everyone begins carrying boxes and unpacking, trying to ignore the rambling of Bam's uncle. When Vito turns away for another box Dico looks at you putting a finger to his lips before pulling an airhorn from his back pocket. You stifle a giggle and cover your ears as the sound startles Vito causing him to drop the box he grabbed, "Assholes!" You smile going back to your task. After you "accidentally" spill Vito's beer you run out of the kitchen picking up a box to take it upstairs only to see Raab standing next Ryan at the top holding an ironing board. "What's the plan here?" You nod to the item in your boyfriends hands. He grins and steals a kiss, "stair surfing gonna knock him on his ass." You step to the side looking over the railing. Ryan yells, "Vitooooooo!" Within seconds he comes shuffling into view yelling too, "The hell are ya yelling for?" Before you can crack a smile your boyfriend hurtles down the stairs laying on the ironing board. Bam jumps back before Raab collides with Vito sending them both tumbling to the floor. "This is the last damn time I ask any of you asses for help" He struggles back to his feet. You can't help but fall to your knees taking Ryan down with you both laughing hard. With tears starting to roll down your face from laughing, you watch as your boyfriend sprints away with Vito scrambling after him causing you to laugh even harder. You stumble down the stairs Ryan following behind gasping through giggles. You get outside and see that Raab has locked himself in the cab of the empty moving van making Vito furious. He walks back up the stairs pissed at the sight of his nephews and their friends slumped together giggling on the ground outside the front door, "get outta here all of you!" He slams the door behind him and Bam holds his hand up highfiving the group still on the ground holding his side with one arm, "Mission accomplished. Let's go eat."

#jackass #cky #viva la bam #bam margera #ryan dunn #dico cky #brandon dicamillo #chris raab x reader #chris raab #raab himself #bammywrites

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willowedwisteria · 2 years

Text

Summary -> After a long day, all the cats want to do is cuddle up in your arms and receive your attention. It seems like you're too tired to give them what they want.

Featuring -> Venti, Arataki Itto, Shenhe

Genre -> Fluff

Itto

For a cat, he's quite large and tall in size. You could see smaller cats laying on his back as he ran around in his usual, hyper state. (They got irritated by how much he was moving and couldn't sleep in peace)

There always seems to be another cat next to him to stop him from doing anything... crazy.

He's the cat that gets so confused once the Cafe opens up. People are flooding inside and you seem to be so occupied with whatever you're doing.

Hey, but that food looks pretty good, could he have some?

Aligning with his bright, cheery personality, he's joined the entertainer squad. I can tell you that kids adore him. Kids love decorating his fur with stuff and he always keeps on this reindeer headband.

The antlers of the headband are his supposed horns.

The moment the Cafe begins to empty out, Itto comes running to your feet. Similar to a puppy, he sits upright, staring at you. But even after he sits there so obediently, you yawn and walk past him.

Do you think that'll stop him? No! He's the mighty Arataki Itto! Whatever negative energy you're giving to him will disappear once he cheers you up.

"Hey! Hey! Hey!" At least that's what he's trying to say, but all you can hear is a bunch of meows. "So... you look like you could use a pal since so many people suddenly asked for the food that you made - which was probably supposed to be mine."

Another round of mewling with you just sitting there listening to him as if you could understand him.

"Y'know, I kinda... got you a gift!" Itto drags out a pretty stone he found outside. (He was supposed to be doing his job as an entertainer to the customers... but we can ignore the fact that he ran outside when a customer opened the door to leave.)

(Shinobu had to help him back inside the Cafe since he didn't know how to open the door to get back inside)

You pick up the stone and raise it, inspecting it. "Looks cool to me, thanks." You smile, patting his head. Itto cuddles up into your lap and you softly squish his face in your hands, "What a cheeky little cat, well I can't really call you little."

Shenhe

Quite a feisty one, with a lot of curiosity mixed into it. However, it's not the logical type of curiosity like Albedo. She's more... dangerous.

Once, you caught her putting a flower into her mouth just to see what it tastes like. You could kind of understand the time when Albedo took a sip of your coffee because you actually drank it, but a flower out of nowhere...

Usually, you couldn't let her be with the customers much due to her mannerisms. Though, due to her rare appearances and distant personality, many of your regulars would jest about it and say that she brings them luck.

Shenhe likes her position as an observer, she has her place laying on a hanging light to watch out for any "evildoers". Sometimes Xiao joins her, and sometimes he's forced to entertain.

"Your grace," Shenhe calls out for you in form of mewls, "you look... tired. Would you like something to eat?"

Yet, despite her offer, you just yawned and walked past her to your own quarters. Perhaps you didn't hear her? Or... were you ignoring her?!

Oh dear.

Shenhe immediately reaches her hands into the cookie jar - that was supposed to be for customers, she clamps the cookie in her hand before accidentally dropping it on the counter.

Biting the cookie, she runs to your side and places the treat onto your empty palm. Worried about the possibilities of your reaction, Shenhe steps back a bit when you tried to pat her fur.

"Awh, thanks. But I need to check if you still have any crumbs in your mouth. If you swallowed any of the chocolate chip cookies I made, I'm bringing you to the vet."

Shenhe had no idea where or what the vet even was, but she trusts that you wouldn't bring her to a place that would cause her harm.

Venti

Jeez, this energetic, carefree furball of a cat. He can jump pretty high and there always seems to be a nice breeze of wind when you go out with him.

He's, of course, one of the dear entertainers. Venti's the perfect idealization of that lovable, fun cat that kids would adore.

Thanks to this, there's always a rivalry between him and Itto about who the kids like better. Though, I think Itto is the only one taking this competition between Venti and him seriously.

There was this one occasion where one of your regulars brought their guitar in since they were going to practice right after their visit to your Cafe.

Venti's been mesmerized by the guitar and has been the calmest and still the moment your regular pull out their guitar. He's even played a few notes - of course with some help.

Because of how cheery Venti seemed to be, you bought him a ukelele. Albeit, it's smaller, he's a small cat as well though.

Once you flip the sign hanging from your glass door and heave a sigh of relief, Venti almost instantly rushes up to you, jumping into your arms.

You melt into your couch and let Venti down, ready for a good nap. But I don't think Venti will let you.

Long before you could fall asleep, you feel Venti tugging your food left and right with his paws. He's staring right at you, a desperate look in his eyes.

"Pffft, okay." You laugh at his antics, "Come here."

That disheartened shine in his eyes grew brighter into something more hopeful and merry. Venti curls up on your stomach when you lay down, hugging your hand the moment you tried to touch his fur.

As the minutes slowly pass, you both feel your dreary eyes shutting as you begin to drift off into a deep sleep. Let's hope the other cats will let Venti have his moment.

Tag list -> @under-a-starry-night, @yourfaveisblack, @bardisipatos, @callmemeelah, @kithewanderingme, @my-white-canvas, @bamboowrites/@bamboowritess, @uchihaeirin, @karmawonders, @lunavixia, @anfre109, @gi-archives

Special tags -> @chocoenvy, @emilemovhi, @i-put-the-yan-in-polyandry, @bardisipatos, @mari-san-cant, @yuzuricebun, @sweetstrawberrybabe, @ventivity, @mei-cheng, @euthym1as, @lotterymology, @lina-andel

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drades-lair · 4 months

Text

Rescuing Fizz

Fandom: HelluvaBoss

Rating: T

Pairing(s): Ozzie/Fizz, Striker/OC

"Did Ya see this?" Striker inquired, tipping his newspaper towards Calus.

"Hmm?" Calus cocked a curious eyebrow mid sip of coffee, looking over at the newspaper. The duo were casually relaxing on the white leather couch in Calus' penthouse, enjoying the early morning rays that filtered in through the windows.

"Those two are headin' off on vacation," Striker chuckled pointing at an article that revealed Asmodeus and Fizzarollie were going off on a vacation in Sloth.

"Good for them," Calus chuckled in turn.

"Yeah, they deserve it," Striker agreed.

"I'm glad to see them doing well," Calus added.

"Ya got a soft spot for 'em," Striker returned.

"Can't help it, Asmodeus is one of the better sins and Fizz isn't so bad, annoying on occasion but not bad. Plus, I was there when Ozzie found Fizz," Calus explained with a soft chuckle, one arm draping over the back of the couch behind Striker's shoulders.

"Wait, what?" Striker retorted in shocked surprise.

"Yeah, you didn't know that?" Calus shot back.

"Nah, Ya helped find the clown?" Striker clarified.

"Not quite, Asmodeus heard about a massive fire and went to investigate as none of the other sins could and he asked if I could accompany him," Calus began explaining.

Years earlier....

"This the spot?" Calus inquired, glancing around the scorched landscape that he and Asmodeus had arrived at. Remnants of the circus that used to be there scattered around, hell steed hoof prints littering the ground where fire had not reached.

"Yes, thank you again for accompanying me," Asmodeus offered in confirmation.

"No problem, what are we looking for?" Calus questioned kneeling to smear his fingers across the burnt ground causing the soot to rub onto his fingers.

"Nothing in particular, just making sure nothing untoward has happened past the claim of an accident," Asmodeus casually explained.

"Got it," Calus flippantly stated standing back up so they could split up.

Thirty to forty minutes later their investigation had turned up nothing beyond the claim of an accidental fire. Satisfied they met back up in preparation to leave when a sound caught both their attention causing them to both turn around.

"What was that?" Asmodeus asked, turning at the same time Calus did to scan the burnt, rubble riddled landscape.

"Not sure," Calus retorted.

"...h-help..." came a very muffled, gravelly voice.

"Over there!" Calus exclaimed, pointing towards a large pile of rubble that was covered by the side piece of what used to be a circus cart.

Calus hurried to the pile with Asmodeus close behind, crouching down to slide his hands under the large charred wooden piece. Grunting Calus managed to lift the piece, tossing it to the side promptly revealing the horrific sight beneath, a half-buried imp in the ash and dirt laying on his stomach or...what was left of an imp. The imp had been maimed horribly, limps scorched by hell fire causing bone to show past scraps of skin, his face was charred, and his horns were nearly gone. Calus knelt beside the imp thinking there was no way this was the imp who had called out, there was no way this imp was even alive...until he opened his eyes.

"What!? He is alive!" Calus exclaimed, gingerly reaching for the injured imp.

"P... please...help..." the imp rasped before coughing up blood.

"Easy, easy young one. I am going to help you," Calus assured the imp, gently rolling him onto his back.

Looking over the imp, Calus swiftly determined there was no saving his limbs even with the Dracony's healing abilities. Asmodeus made a call to the sloth medical center in hopes they'd get there quickly thanks to him making the call. Calus gave a shrill whistle promptly summoning his hell steed Aurora who came straight to his side allowing Calus to retrieve his medical kit from her saddle bags. Carefully Calus tended the imp's injuries unfortunately without knowing the full extent of the imp's wounds he couldn't use his healing in case he caused more damage. Asmodeus watched on in concern, wondering how an imp could survive such damage.

"Stay with me kid, what's your name?" Calus asked as the imp cried in agony.

"F-fizz...Fizza...rollie..." the imp whimpered before coughing up more blood causing Calus to furrow his brow in concerned confusion.

"Fizzarolli, alright. Do me a favor Fizzarolli and open your mouth for me," Calus requested.

Fizz did as Calus requested revealing what the Dracony suspected, Fizz's throat was in tatters. Glancing around Calus noticed a large blast pattern a few feet from there current location along with very faint remnants from what he could tell were fireworks. Putting together the puzzle pieces Calus wondered how in the whole of hell this young imp had survived such an incident.

"Do you think he'll survive?" Asmodeus asked from behind Calus.

"I'm not sure, he's in rough shape," Calus responded before explaining his theory to the Lustful sin who recoiled slightly in shock.

"He's survived all that..." Asmodeus trailed off giving Fizz a look of sympathy but also a look of being impressed at the imp's durability.

"Finally," Calus commented as a helicopter approached a short distance away.

The Dracony sprung to his feet, running to the medical staff as they got off the chopper. Asmodeus leaned down while Calus was explaining the situation to the medical staff, scooped Fizz gently up and started towards the helicopter. After Fizz was on a gurney the staff set about getting him transported to the hospital while Calus mounted Aurora and Asmodeus climbed into his limo.

Calus took a little to get to Sloth's hospital as he needed to check out of his hotel first. Upon arriving the Dracony asked the front desk about Fizzarolli at which point they guided Calus to the second floor where the ICU was located. Heading down the hallway Calus spotted the familiar form of Asmodeus which surprised him as it had been almost ten hours since Fizz had arrived at the hospital.

"Asmodeus?" Calus questioned, walking up to the sin who'd turned to acknowledge the Dracony.

"Calus, glad you came to check on Fizzarolli," Asmodeus stated.

"No problem, a little surprised to see you still here," Calus admitted.

"Yes, I wanted to make sure he survived. They just got him out of surgery," Asmodeus explained.

"Humph, everything I anticipated?" Calus inquired.

"Yes, he's going to have a long road ahead of him," Asmodeus answered, looking into the room in front of them.

Through the massive window Calus could see Fizz laying in a bed with his arms clearly amputated, hooked up to machines through tubes and wires, bandages wrapped around his body.

"He seems tough, not everyday you meet someone who’s survived taking several fireworks to the face," Calus smirked slightly.

"Yes," Asmodeus agreed.

Present day...

"And that's how it happened, Fizz slowly recuperated with Asmodeus's help and he offered Fizz to move into the palace shortly after and as they say the rest is history," Calus finished his story.

"Wow, that's impressive," Striker commented.

"Yep," Calus agreed simply.

#HelluvaBoss #HelluvaBoss Fanfiction #Fanfiction #Fizzarolli #Asmodeus #Original Male Character #Striker #Drama #Angst #Hurt/Comfort #Fluff

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nucanitickles · 6 months

Text

Morvay Gets Got Drabble + Headcanons

Eiden had to admit, Morvay's first attack was an accident.

He had been concerned for Morvay - his state of constant hunger could not be comfortable - and had decided to offer himself up to the incubus. "Whatever you need," he had said, and Aster had simply sighed, stating that he would prepare several energy replenishing potions, whatever that meant.

To be fair, he had been drained absolutely dry. He had heard that Morvay had pushed people into vegetative states due to his hunger, and he reckoned it was only because of his high sex drive (sorry, high essence count in Klein) that he was even able to stay awake right now. But even as he sipped on an incredibly bitter energy potion, he couldn't find it in him to regret it.

Morvay's head lay in his now-clothed lap, still and calm in a very unusual way. His eyes were half-closed in relaxation, a lazy smile curling at his lips as one hand cradled his bloated stomach. He seemed to be revelling in the feeling of finally being full, and he looked so blissed out that Eiden couldn't help but feel happy.

So when his hand slipped down to stroke Morvay's hair, it was with purely innocent intentions. Morvay seemed to enjoy it too, if his happy hums and nuzzling into Eiden's hand were anything to go by.

But when Eiden's hands drifted over those little horns of his, his smile turned up too high to be natural, and he squirmed a little, biting his lip.

"Oh?" Eiden couldn't help but grin, gently stroking his fingers over the base of his horns again, "What's this then?"

Morvay squirmed again, a small whimper leaving his mouth as he did it again. It didn't seem to be quite enough to make him laugh though, so Eiden tapped his fingers down the Incubus's face, poking his nose playfully and laughing as it scrunched up. His fingers fluttered down to Morvay's neck, where the man actually let out a little squeak and burst into quiet giggles.

"You're so cute," Eiden mumbled, grinning as Morvay's cheeks burned red, "Normally I'd absolutely wreck you, but I think you're too full right now for that to end in anything but throwing up..."

He chuckled as Morvay whined, moving to tickle him under the chin. "Oh? Would you like that? Is that why both your feet and stomach are out to the world, hmm? Just ready for someone to attack you whenever they wish?" He moved down to Morvay's stomach, scratching at his sides and ribs to hear him squeal a little before returning to the gentle tickles.

"Don't worry. I'll keep it gentle for today, since you've been such a good boy." The incubus seemed to light up with pride at that statement, even though he was giggling up a storm. Eiden smiled indulgently as he used his other hand to card through his hair, leaning down to press a kiss to Morvay's blushing nose.

"I'm still gonna wreck your shit the next time I see you though."

💜💜💜💜💜

💜 I see Morvay as a lee-leaning switch, although he hasn't got much experience in that department. Man's been in a mansion with Aster and Huey for his life, and while there wasn't much tickling with Huey around, after he left do you really think Aster would let Morvay get him?

💜 So Morvay has most experience being a lee and go be fair he does enjoy it. Morvay loves being wrecked in general, let's be real. Probably turns it v kinky. But, and hear me out, tickling him gently completely throws him off and it turns him into this soft puddle of goo who's not quite sure what to do with himself? Have you given his character a headpat on the screen!? I can't help it he needs hugs and soft tickles he's too cute 🥺

💜 In terms of ticklishness, I reckon Morvay's up there. Probably not as sensitive as some of the others, but a solid 8/10. Most ticklish spots for me would be that incubus mark of his, his underarms and possibly his ribs? Idk he just gives off those vibes.

💜 Thrasher. Be careful when attacking - he kicks and punches and this succubus is very strong so it will cause damage.

💜 As a ler, let's be real, he's pretty pants, but Eiden is taking him under his wing and teaching him how to tickle and stuff. He's very enthusiastic - he likes to use his tail to poke and prod to get lees riled up before he pounces.

#nu carnival tickling #ticklish!morvay #lee!morvay #ler!morvay #my baby my child i love he #give morvay more appreciation pls

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nostalgebraist-autoresponder · 2 years

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Tell me a story about Pandora.

Pandora, or "Pandora's box," is a popular name given to a small box, the nature of whose contents is a mystery.

Though they look something like these:

The name Pandora first appears in some reference to a box, in the fourth century BC.

"PANDORA's Box," as a term for the thing, is said to have originated with a young girl of Miletus. In a letter written to her family, the girl describes a box she has received from a merchant she does not name. It is a box, she says, of glass, with a small hole in the side. When opened, she hears the distant sound of music, like that of "a number of citharas, a lyre and a flute all in unison, and not unlike the melody of a number of Panes and the cithara, but more resonant."

But some have claimed that the name was first used a thousand years earlier, in a Chinese work of literature titled by the present translator "The Journey to the West."

"The 'Journey to the West,'" the translator writes in his notes, "is the name of the central plot of a number of tales that date back to before the Qin dynasty (221-206 B.C.) In one of these tales, an emperor receives a box full of magic from the East as a present. Opening the box, he finds that when he tries to eat it he becomes a pig, and when he tries to look out of it he becomes a horse. The only way he can get it back to the emperor is by using a magic mirror to return his body to its former form as a human. And even this can't do it, because what comes out of the mirror is a pig.

"Since the name of the story is 'The Journey to the West,'" the translator continues, "the modern title of the tale was understood to be 'Pandora's Box.' Thus the use of the name of the main plot to refer to a small box containing a mysterious substance."

The modern story of Pandora was told in the fifth century by Hesiod in his "Works and Days," and then in the tenth by Ovid in his "Metamorphoses."

According to the Hesiod account, Pandora was a mortal woman, the daughter of Prometheus. In her youth, she lived in luxury with the Olympian gods, her parents among them. Then one day, to their alarm, they saw her turn into a human girl. Hesiod's account is given in some detail:

"And the father of the gods and men [Prometheus] sent her as a bride to Epimetheus, the son of Pandora. And he came to her as a guest, leading her by the hand, to where his father Zeus, the son of Cronos, dwells. And he had set before him a mighty table inlaid with gold and silver, and all kinds of dainty foods. And on a great bed of cypress wood beside them was a cup, a mixing-bowl, a goblet, a mixing-horn, and a cup from the hands of Artemis. And he made her drink of the mixing-bowl and mix its contents together. Now, before them was a platter of savoury meat. And they began to eat and to take delight in one another's company.

[... ] And they saw the form of a girl in the shining gold of the cups and plates and shining metal. And they marvelled at her all over again because of her surpassing beauty, and they said to one another that in the world to come all human beings, mortal and immortal, would seem to her in all respects to be as these things were in the house of Zeus. And after they had left off eating, they were overcome with sleep.

And all through the night she lay there with her husband, and she was terrified and afraid, because of the great awe which had come upon her. And before them there was a shining board which had fallen with a clatter from the high table. And among all these things they saw the name of the woman Pandora, written in letters of gold, which was the first and last of all things, of mortal flesh and immortal. And Epimetheus saw it and laughed.

And then the lord Zeus had pity upon her, and he said: This is the girl who it was who gave me these things, and who was the cause why the wide earth is burdened with grief. And when he had said this, he bound his father under the earth with chains and bound his own chains on him, and he fell into darkness, as he was, with all his sons around him.

... They said, 'O father, do not be so harsh on your own children. Do not go out, and do not punish us in your anger. Let your wife share your anger and grief, and do not put to sea the whole race of man.' And he said, 'Forgive them. For I have not the power to withstand this rage, and I shall turn all things to fire and ashes. But spare, for your sake, the whole race of man, and do not hold them guilty, for they are innocent. For, even if they do not know it, let them know by our example that they should keep secret, until the time when the goddess of our father's realm will bear them to the end of the earth and over the sea, in her company.'

But he could not restrain the father of gods and men, and his wrath burned up and turned into a black, blazing flame. And he bound his own hands and feet and he chained his own legs and he stood upright, with a roar, and rushed at his own sons, all of them, and he lashed them. And he struck Ephialtes with a thunderbolt. And he struck Polydamas with a thunderbolt. And he struck Clytus, and Creon and Amphiaraus, and the third son of Cronos, Orpheus. And he set the house upon all his sons, but he could not stand there himself.

But he left the others where they were, and he went on a long way toward the east to the house of Hades, the king of the dead, and he said: 'Thou, lord of the shades, lord of darkness, thou son of Cronos, Hades, who ruleth the place of dead, wither and thy own sons, and my sons.' And Hades was furious at him and sent after him, death, the dread power of death, to lay hold of him and bring him back in chains.

When Ephialtes [Prometheus's eldest son] saw his father turn into a human form, he said, 'O father, O father of men! Do not turn back on us, for we ourselves are sons of thee, and we will follow thee into the houses of all the dead.' And then Hades drew near with the dread of death, lord of the silent realms, and he came up and clung to the hair of the son of Prometheus, the son of the father of gods and men, and he held him with both his hands. And at this moment the father of gods and men and mortals turned toward him, his back toward the earth and blazing fire, his hair ablaze and his face all in a flame. At the same time the lord of Olympus, far-seeing, shone into the hall, and then he said, 'O king of the house of Hades, where do thy own sons now dwell, who do you seek in the darkness of the

#computer generated image #guidance scale 2

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joeyskattebo · 2 years

Text

Worldly Ways Chapter 2 part 1

Across town Chuck is in an deep sleep laying in bed in his room, and lost in an reoccurring dream: gray thick clouds completely obscure the sky as dead trees sway back and forth on the ground below and a large amount of crows are squawking and flying in the air high above them; Chuck is driving his old beat up gray car down the empty road, when he turns on the radio: an Josephine Baker song then fills the car; horns play the vintage tune as the incomparable Josephine Baker sings the song written by Eddy Arnold; Chuck smiles and lights up an cigarette, he then puffs the cigarette and enjoys the music as he drives by trees that are slowing swaying back and forth as Then I’ll Be Happy plays:

“First you bring me joy then bring me sorrow Why, you're just here today and gone tomorrow! Why can't I have you for my own? Tell me, why must I stay here all alone? I wanna go where you go,

Do what you do,

Love when you love,

Then I'll be happy!

I wanna sigh when you sigh,

Cry when you cry,

Smile when you smile,

Then I'll be happy!

You can go north or south,

You can go east or west,

I'll follow you around, sweetheart,

And share your little love nest.” It is usually around this part of the dream where he realizes that the crows notice him, and then swoop down swiftly and angrily as the early jazz music bubbles out of the speakers; the crows surround the car so he throws his cigarette at them as they laugh and the cigarette turns into an black rose and then falls; Chuck continues to drive the car forward though the crows in front of his car make this difficult sense he can’t really see passed them; an few fly into the car through his open window before he quickly closes it; the crows fly around the car and one of them peck at Chuck as he swings his arms around which causes him to move the car back and forth on the road; Chuck’s car knocks into a few of the crows that are in front of the car and then all of the crows speak in unison:

“Mark my words

Trouble is here

As you float aimlessly through your world

Find light, and carry it or die,” And right about here, Chuck wanders off to another dream: he is now in an endless indoor playground and playing on an long set of monkey bars; it is completely empty until he sees an frightening clown walking towards him in an pink tube that leads to the large red monkey bar corridor he is in; the clown is as tall as Chuck, but completely bald expect for orange hair that jets out from the sides and the back of their head; they have an large blue nose and slightly frightening make-up; their white suit is big and flowing and has big pink, purple, and green polka dots; they are three stories up, and he hears nothing as the clown silently approaches; when Chuck sees the clown he instantly lets go of the monkey bars and lands on the soft blue patting-he stops in fear as he watches their big red shoes coming towards him-the clown is smiling large and has eyes that twinkle:

“Evening stranger, how about a flower?”

“No thanks,” Chuck said standing there in a tense position. “Come on!” they said in an provoking manner-Chuck then grabs one of the flowers, it is tall and red, and he admires it for an second until it turns into an snake-he screams and the clown laughs as the snake wraps around him and squeezes him until everything suddenly disappears like an breath of fresh air; the dream changes again and Chuck finds himself in an dish pit that he had used to work in: Chuck is looking slightly down at an sink that is on and the faucet is on high; this diagonal image of hot steamy water pouring out of the faucet at a high pressure captures Chuck’s attention with an disorienting déjà vu that seems to become more important than anything else; he again loses awareness of the dream and he soon finds himself wondering around in an random house; Chuck wonders around the entire house, into the basement, the kitchen, and several bedrooms; he wonders around for a while when he realizes that the house is growing and growing and adding more and more rooms the more and more that he wonders around the house; Chuck continues to walk around the house where sees bathrooms, bedrooms, kitchens, living rooms, closets, pantries, other nooks and crannies, hallways, stairs that go up to another floor, and stairs that go down to the basement, form right in front of his eyes-he starts to panic in this endless house when he finds himself in the living room where he sees an Mother, an old scary woman with long gray hair and piercing blue eyes, an Father, an old scary man with gray hair, matching bushy beard, and piercing blue eyes, and an little blonde girl and an little blonde boy with equally piercing blue eyes like their Mother and Father-the family inquire what he is doing there and Chuck is coy and evasive-they all scowl at him though they do not persist or follow him as he continues to wonder around their home that has stopped growing and is fact an much different house that it was when he had first wondered inside-after an little while Chuck leaves and as he is walking off the property into the daylight the whole family follow him out the door-he then feels himself getting knocked down onto the driveway and when he turns around he sees the Father of the family who starts to punch his chest while Chuck begins to scream with his

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kiridarling · 3 years

Text

𝐌𝐎𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓.

— 3.0k words

eijirou kirishima | hard dom + dubcon jic + f!reader + exhibitonism + face-fucking + dumbification + car sex + more! minors dni.

"Made me come all this way...it’d be a pity if I didn't get somethin' out of it."

"No, no, no, no, no—c'mon," you cry as your car engine spits and sputters to a stop in the road, coughing like an old man with asthma before it's dead for good. Jamming your heel on the gas pedal, you twist your key in the ignition, but there's no use. You're fucking stuck.

You sigh, before slamming your forehead against the steering wheel. It's hard enough to sting, and the blaring horn startles all unsuspecting birds in a five-mile radius, but you could care less. Stuck in the middle of the woods at one in the morning, AAA membership-less with nothing but the clothes on your back and the vehicle you came with. Short cuts are a fucking myth.

Mina's the only person you can think of calling—because frankly, she's the only one who'd know a mechanic who could help at this time of night if one exists. Which you doubt. Severely.

"[Y/N]?" Mina answers, semi-urgently. You wonder if you startled her out of a good sleep, but knowing the night owl, her evening is just beginning. "What's up?"

"I'm fucking stuck in the middle of nowhere," you groan, banging your head against the back of the seat though you know she can't see you. "Car's not working."

"Oh no," she coos, and her pity is useless. "Do you have AAA?"

"No. Do you have a mechanic?"

"A mechanic...at one am? I don—wait," she interrupts before you hear something akin to rustling sheets. "I might have a friend who could help! But don't get your hopes up girlie, he's a heavy sleeper."

You shrug, shaking your head. "At this point, I'm desperate."

"Alrighty!" Mina confirms, and now all you can do is fucking hope her friend pulls through. "I'll give him a quick buzz and then send his number over, sound good?"

"Sounds perfect," you breathe, relaxing (somewhat) with your chin against the steering wheel. "Thanks, girl."

"Of course!" she cheers, and you wonder how someone could have so much energy at this time of night. "Good luck!"

"Thanks," you snort. "I might need it."

Riiiing! Riiiing!

Eijirou's had a long day.

A pipe busted at the auto shop today, resulting in an immediate flood—meaning they had to get everything that could possibly rust out as quickly as possible, aka everything in the goddamn shop.

So, yeah. He's had a long day, and when he's finally able to get under the covers and go the fuck to sleep, Mina calls him with this.

"Hey...Eijirou, buddy, best friend—"

"Mina, I love you, but what do you want?" Eijirou grunts into the phone, voice worn and ragged from limited sleep and his terribly long day. One am is never an appropriate time to call anybody, but he figures something has to be up—Mina's not the type to call in the middle of the night.

"Um, well. My homegirl’s kinda stuck in the woods with car troubles—"

"The woods."

It takes Mina a second but she hums in confirmation, and Eijirou can see her head nodding from where he lays. He sighs, rolling on his back to blink up at the ceiling. "Yep!"

"What is she doing in the woods at midnight?"

"I don't know!" Mina exclaims. Eijirou runs a hand over his face. "I just—please, Ei? She doesn't have AAA or anything and it's really, really late. All you have to do is hotwire her car or something, right? It's not like she totaled it or anything."

And dammit. Eijirou hates being a nice person.

"Just give me ten."

Mina practically gasps out a thank you, "You're a lifesaver Ei! Really! I—"

She's interrupted by the buzz of his phone—this time, from an unknown number. Eijirou raises an eyebrow, "That her?"

"Should be!" The pinkette says. Eijirou's feet finally touch the floor and it's painfully cold. His bed has never looked more appealing, and that's counting all those instances in high school. "Thanks again, Ei!"

"Yep," Eijirou says, popping the 'p,' before clearing his voice and switching the line. Customer Service at one am, here he comes.

"Red Riot Auto Repair and Services, how may I help you?"

All he receives is a grunt on the other end of the phone: "My car won't turn on."

Eijirou waits for you to give him a little more to work with, but it's clear that's all you have to say when you ask hello to ensure he's still on the other end of the line. Runs his hands through his hair, he silently prays he won't have to leave the house to get your car to work.

"Did you try jiggling the key?"

"Yes, I'm not stupid," you huff, and Eijirou's eyebrows fold in exasperation. He insists you do it again though, and hears the weak splutter of your engine through the phone with a heavy heart. "'S fucking useless."

"Did you try tapping the battery terminals?"

"The battery whatsitals?" You say, too loud and smart-mouthed for the very thin amount of patience Eijirou harbors. He reaches for his hair tie, satisfied enough with the messy bun he makes on the first try.

"Just send me your location," Eijirou sighs, moving for a jacket before snatching the keys to the shed. He'd rather just get this over with than beat around the bush.

Luckily, you're not far.

"You drive that thing?" is your first comment, and Eijirou can't even appreciate your beauty before your first words shatter your image completely, and he's slamming the door to his truck with rolling eyes, rusted toolbox heavy in his hand. "It looks like Mater from Lightning McQueen."

Eijirou just stares at you for a second, just to see if you're really serious, and resists the urge to scoff when it seems like you are.

"It's a truck," is all he says, before marching around you and to the task at hand—your car. "Pop the hood."

You huff, but you listen, and Eijirou wastes no time in getting to work. You watch with your elbows balanced on the rim, curious but quiet, and that allows him to get in the zone enough to realize there are countless problems with your car.

"When was the last time you took this thing into the shop?" He probes. You click your tongue, eyes tracing the outlines of the trees as you search for an answer. That's never a good sign.

"Um...never?"

"And how long have you had it?"

"A few years," you nod, and Eijirou drops his head.

"It's a miracle you made it this far in the first place," he chuckles bitterly, shaking his head. What the hell is he going to do now? There's no way your car is moving anywhere tonight. You frown, jamming your hands on your hips.

"Well? Are you going to fix it or what?"

"I can fix it," Eijirou says with a shrug, closing your hood. "But not tonight."

"What do you mean not tonight?" You badger, breathing down his neck as he hikes back to his truck to set the toolbox down. There's no reason to carry it if he's not going to need it.

"I mean, your car's going to need a solid six months before it can run again, Sweetheart."

When Eijirou turns, you're much too in his face for his liking. He can practically feel your breath against his chest, and it has him rolling his eyes, leaning against his truck with arms crossed.

"Yeah, okay, but I need it to run tonight," you explain, gesticulating so wildly Eijirou fears his own chest may fall in the cross-fire. "Like, I need to get home tonight."

"I can't—" the redhead sighs, running his hand over his face. You're terribly difficult, and if Mina had given him a proper warning he probably wouldn't be here in the fucking first place. "Listen. My shop is out of commission for the next few days 'cause of a flood. I can work on your car or whatever, but it'll take a sec, so the most I can do is drop you at a hotel down the road or somethin'. Sound like a plan?"

"No," you growl, claws and all, and Eijirou wishes for nothing but death. "That doesn't sound like a plan! I don't know you, what makes you think I'll get in a car with you?"

Oh. My. God.

"Then you can spend the night in your car and have Mina come get you in the morning," he huffs, stomping over to the driver's side of his truck. "So it's either you're gettin' in, or I'm leaving ya."

With that, he slams the car door shut, shoves his key in the ignition, and counts to fucking ten, and on nine and a half you're flinging open the passenger door and bouncing in the seat, arms crossed over your chest in indignance. You don't even look him in the eye.

"Seatbelt," he warns. You tut.

"I don't need a fucki—"

"Put on the goddamn seatbelt."

You don't say anything, but he's satisfied by the click that follows. Eijirou shifts into drive and you two take off.

"The seat's so uncomfortable."

Not even twenty feet.

"Suck it up," is all the pity Eijirou has to offer. He's preoccupied with trying to get from this side road to a main road with, you know, actual civilization. The road is unsteady—unsteady enough that a bump sends the both of you flying towards the roof of his car, and naturally, you have something to say about it.

"Y'know, for a mechanic, you're not a very good driver," you say, and it has Eijirou's fists tightening around his steering wheel. His patience wears down until it has the height of a penny, and Eijirou worries for when it shatters because he has no clue what he'll do if it does.

"And it smells a little funky," you continue anyway, eyes wandering around the cabin aimlessly."Kinda like cheese. No offense."

Eijirou pulls over at that, teeth grinding. Is he really going to snap over cheese comment?

“Is this a condom?”

Yes. Yes, the fuck he is.

"Get out."

"Um—excuse me?" You blink, eyebrows raising in offense. "You're kicking me out. Because I found a fucking rubber?”

Eijirou glares your way and he's sure you can feel him radiating fury, and that's enough to convince you to hop out of the car without another word. He follows, slamming the door behind him.

"Okay? Now what?" You growl, and Eijirou loves it—the false display of confidence. Because he knows it won't take much to break you once he gets you under his thumb, and you'll look so pretty once he does. Cocking his head to his side, he tells you to come here without having to open his mouth. You follow.

"Now, on your knees."

You splutter at his request, rolling your eyes as if he wasn't being serious. Though you shut up once you hear the clink of his belt, lips widening in revelation, and Eijirou thinks you'd look much prettier with your mouth full.

"You made me come all this way—it'd be a pity if I didn't get somethin' out of it," Eijirou says, and the way you shiver implies that you like this more than you let on. He coos when you say nothing, "And for the first time today she's got nothin' to say. See? You're improving already."

He gives you a second to move. When you don't, he lifts an eyebrow. "Knees, Princess."

You do and Eijirou groans at the view, palming his hardening cock at the sight of your bambi eyes blinking up at him—and it's a pretty one, at that. Leaning against the door of his truck, he grunts, "Take it out."

Your fingers hook under the waistband of his boxers and Eijirou shivers upon contact with the cool air, but the warmth of your palm makes up for it. You spit on his cock with a curled lip and it's nothing short of crude, before you're swirling your tongue around the head and taking him as far as you can possibly go.

"Uh-uh," Eijirou tuts, grabbing you by the hair to pull your mouth off his cock. "We got at my pace, Sweetheart."

"Why?" You pout with a curled lip. Eijirou scowls.

"Because," he says, before stuffing half of his cock down your throat, "I'm gonna put that big fuckin' mouth to use at my pace."

With that, Eijirou thrusts into your mouth, using the grip he has around your hair as leverage. Your throat is impossibly warm and the way you choke has him keening, and that's enough for his hips to start picking up mindlessly.

"Shit—what a dirty fuckin' girl," he says, smirking when you moan around his cock. "You like this? You like sucking off a guy you just met?"

Your eyes flutter at that, nails digging into his thighs, and it nearly has him cooing. When you swallow around him Eijirou's hips stutter and he grunts, "In public, no less. Anyone could drive by and see you taking my dick down your throat...but you'd like that, wouldn't you? You want the world to know how much of a slut you are."

Your hand falls between your thighs and Eijirou grins like the devil as he watches you touch yourself on the dirty road, desperate just because knows how to push the right buttons. That's enough to have him caving, demanding you rise to your feet and get in the backseat of his car.

"Hands and knees," Eijirou urges, his body towering over yours from behind. It's not long before he's pinning your wrists to the windshield with one hand and using the other to land a harsh slap on your ass; harsh enough to make you jolt forwards from the force.

"Such a pretty ass," he coos before slapping it again, and your teeth dig into your bottom lip to muffle the sound. "And it's all for me, ain't it, Princess?"

You nod, but Eijirou spanks you again—he's looking for an answer.

"Y-Yeah, yes, all yours just—" your hips wiggle in search of his cock. Eijirou chuckles, leveling his lips with your ear.

"Want me to fill you up, Princess?"

You gasp out a yes, nodding vehemently. The redhead finds he likes you like this much better, chest rumbling with arousal. "Yeah? How bad?"

"B-Bad, please, I need t—fuck!"

Eijirou stuffs you full with one thrust, and even he needs a moment, freehand searching to hold onto your hip while his grip tightens around your wrists. You quiver under him, and he swears he can feel your gut contract around his cock, eyelids fluttering when you grind against him.

"Holy shit," Eijirou finds himself wheezing, not expecting you to be so tight. You drop your head against the cool windshield, whimpering like the pretty little thing you are, shuddering as he pulls out before ramming himself in again until he's balls deep. You scream, back arching from the angle.

And fuck. It's impossible for him to stop after that.

"Fuckin' look at you," Eijirou chuckles, body practically caging you against the seat, "Drooling all over my window like a slut. Fuck, you really know how to get a guy goin' huh?"

“Pull—pull my hair,” you request, words from his pistoning hips. Eijirou tuts and rips your hands off the window in favor of pushing your head into the seat, not making a move to yank on your hair once.

“I don’t think you’re in the right place to be making demands, Princess," he growls before his hot palm cracks against your ass, hissing from the way you tighten around him when he does.

You whine at that, pushing into him the best you can. It only spurs his hips on faster, and Eijirou lets go of your hands in favor of grabbing your face instead, groaning at the sight of the tears shining silver from the moonlight. He likes the fact that you can't do much but gasp and rock against him, your hands falling to clit to finally push yourself off the edge.

He looks at you and all he sees is his dumb little thing, who can't do anything, let alone get her car to work, and that's when Eijirou realizes he doesn't want this to be as much of a one-time thing as he initially thought.

"Gonna...gonna cum," you slur, cheek mashed flat against his window. Eijirou fucks you into the door of his truck, pace quick and bruising, as his mind thinks of all the fun you two could have together—all the fun he wants to have with you.

"Cum, Sweetheart. Make a mess of my cock and my leather seats, yeah? Show me how good I make you feel."

You tighten around his cock, tight, and that's enough to send him spiraling into an orgasm of his own, hips stuttering to a stop as he fills you up. Though his hips never stop, not until you're coming around his cock with a broken moan, curled toes digging into his car floor. He watches you catch your breath, splayed across the seat, with a sudden realization that he feels much lighter, but doubts it was the sex that did the trick.

"You fucked your anger out now?" You wheeze, breaking the silence, and Eijirou snorts.

"I—yes," he says before his eyes trail to the scratch marks around your hips and thighs. "Are you...okay?"

"Never been better," you toss your arms in the air like you're on a rollercoaster but lack the energy to scream. It's cute and it had the redhead re-evaluating everything, wondering how the day could start so shitty and yet, end so well. "Are you okay?"

His eyebrows furrow, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I dunno," you shrug, and Eijirou finds it hard to stay focused when you look like that. "You asked me, so. Everyone needs a post-sex check-in, ya know?"

Fuck.

Fuck, yeah he's definitely keeping you.

#— 𝐄𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐑𝐎𝐔 #tw.dubcon #kirishima smut #bnha smut #mha smut #kirishima x reader

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its-not-a-phase-mom-i-d8-demons · 3 years

Text

"Are you just using me for my body?" feat. Asmodeus

pairing: Asmodeus x Female!Reader

warnings: mentions of smut, distrust, mentions of cheating

A/N: this got REALLy emotional...

Being the Avatar of Lust and all, Asmodeus couldn't help but have desires outside his absolute adoration of you and you alone; other than himself that is.

He was so sweet all the time, never once forced you to do anything with him, and waited patiently until you knew you were ready.

You loved Asmodeus with your whole heart and had confidence that he wouldn't cheat on you.

Asmodeus was many things, but a liar was not one of them.

Until now, it had been especially hard to keep a steady relationship with his desires rampant and constantly filling up his mind. Ever since he started to get to know you and realize his feelings for you, he stopped sleeping around as much until it came to a complete halt.

He really wanted to be with you, he realized, and he'd give up anything if only it meant he could spend every minute you were here with him.

Here you were, completely in tune and comfortable with each other, but come comments from demons at school today had flooded you with doubt.

You hated yourself for mistrusting your best friend and boyfriend, especially after working so hard to get where you are.

That thought alone makes you burst into tears.

Asmo, who was snuggling happily against your chest, had noticed something off about you and decided against asking if you wanted to fuck. He simply pulled you into bed with him, shared a kiss with you, and planted his face on your pillowy chest, hands caressing your sides oh so gently.

You were so pretty...

What was he going to do with you?

He should see what was the matter.

Maybe it was a test coming up, or an unfinished homework assignment, possibly a teacher being rude to you again, but worrying causes wrinkles! With or without them you would continue to be divine, but still!

At that moment, he heard a choked sob slip past your lips.

Worried, he regrettably peeled himself off of you and saw that you were hiccupping into your hand, trying to stop yourself from crying and making a mess of yourself and Asmo's bed.

"Oh, sweetie..." Asmo murmured, pulling you into his lap, "You can go ahead and cry, don't hold it in like this!"

With his permission, you start crying like a baby into his shoulder.

He held your head, pressing kisses to your temple and rocking you gently from side to side.

"Oh, baby..." He whispers, patting your back, "You have to tell me when you're feeling bad... Don't bottle everything up."

You sob an 'I'm sorry', but Asmodeus wouldn't hear it.

"Don't you dare apologize for crying. I'm right here for you, always. Okay?"

That only made you cry harder.

'Worried' could describe Asmo when he first gathered you into his arms. 'Panicking' is how the demon was feeling when you refused to stop sobbing into his shoulder.

Something was seriously wrong and he needed to get to the bottom of it before it became difficult for you to breathe and you got even more panicked.

"Baby, hey, look at me sweetheart," He murmurs, lifting your head up to face him, "You've gotta stop crying, okay? Can you try and calm down for me? I know you can do it, just take deep breaths for me, kay?"

You wiped your eyes on your sleeves way too harshly for his liking, and he grasped your wrists and put them in your lap.

"Inhale with me, come on sweets, you can do it."

You try to inhale, but your lips trembles and you can't help but let out another sob or two, covering your face in your hand, muttering apologies and trembling.

Asmodeus tried again, pulling your hands down and holding his face in his hands, showing you how to take deep breaths and holding your gaze and refusing to let it go.

"Yes, good job!" He smiled rubbing your lower back when you began mimicking his example, "I knew you could do it, hey, don't stop yet honey, you're really wound up..."

You pull your eyes away from his with great effort as it was unbearable to stare into those earnest sunset eyes any longer.

You were repulsed at the thoughts clouding your mind.

How could you call yourself a good girlfriend? You were terrible really, doubting the man you called your boyfriend and lover the moment the shadow of jealousy turned into a rumor.

You apologized again, gripping his hand tightly.

"What did I say?" He says gently, patting your thigh, "No apologies for showing emotion. Got it?"

You nod mutely.

"Asmo?"

"Yes baby?"

"Are you... Are you just using me for my body?"

You felt him stiffen.

Tears flooded your eyes again, dripping into your lap before you could stop them.

Asmo opened his mouth, then shut it again.

Of... Of course, he wasn't... He didn't need anyone else, only you.

Why didn't you trust him?

All these months of bonding behind closed doors, Asmodeus fighting his sin so vehemently he forgot who 'Asmodeus' really was, and hours upon hours of just thinking about how beautiful you were and that you deserved better than him. He had just begun to believe that maybe, just maybe he was worthy of your limitless affection, but it was not so.

You... You never trusted him in the first place, did you?

"A-Asmo I know what you're thinking and I'm sorry-"

"No apologies." He whispered airily, eyes locked on a singular rose, one of many that had wound their way up the bedpost.

The response was empty of emotion, as was Asmodeus's face.

"Oh Asmo, you've always been so good to me. I know you'd never cheat on me after going through so much pain-"

"Who said it?"

"Wha-"

"WHO SAID IT?" Asmodeus had flashed into his demon form, angry tears spilling from his eyes as he stood in front of you, exuding rage, hatred, and most of all, despair.

Out of everything he was feeling at the moment, none of those potent emotions were aimed at you.

"YOU'RE TOO PERFECT TO COME UP WITH THAT IDEA ON YOUR OWN." He screeched, "YOU KNOW I'D NEVER BETRAY ANYONE I LOVE, WHAT DEMON IS SPREADING BULLSHIT ABOUT ME AND COSTING ME YOUR TRUST?"

You were terrified, staring up at the enraged demon, tears soaking your cheeks once again, "Asmo, please! Calm down! You're above them!"

Mascara tears lined his cheeks, and he was just about to shout something else at you, but the door to his room was suddenly blown off its hinges, giving way to six more demons with their horns out, Lucifer in the lead.

He looked absolutely livid, especially after seeing the state you were in.

Asmodeus had the nerve to shout at you? Under any circumstance?

Not in the least.

"Stop this at once, Asmodeus!" He growled, standing his ground in front of you, "Any reason you have to be angry at MC can be taken up to me! Control yourself!"

"Lucifer stop!" You plead, "Don't yell at him like that-"

"Quiet, MC." He hissed, "You need to get out of here. He's too high-strung at the moment. He needs to be alone."

The larger demon grabbed you by the arm and started pulling you out of the room, but you fought against him, punching and crying and yelling at him to let go.

Mammon tried to step in and explain that Lucifer was "jus' tryna keep ya safe!" but you weren't having it and slugged him in the nose.

He screeched as blood started pouring out of his face, Lucifer loosened his grip when he heard his brother in pain he hadn't caused and you managed to tug your limb away from him and rush to your boyfriend who had collapsed onto the floor, face in his hands and sobbing.

His wings and horns were gone, but you wouldn't have cared either way as you tackled him in a hug and refused to let go.

Asmodeus latched onto you as well, and the brothers knew there was nothing they could do about it.

Lucifer pulled Mammon away to fix his bloody and possibly broken nose, and the others stood at the ready outside the door in case something else went wrong.

For a long time, you and the Avatar of Lust simply lay in each other's arms and cried.

It felt good to comfort and be comforted.

After a few hours, both of you were dried up, holding hands and staring sadly at the ceiling.

Asmodeus spoke first.

"Do you... Do you really think I've been using you for your beautiful body all this time? I'm not accusing you of anything, I need to know."

His voice was hoarse and quiet; tentative almost.

"I never thought that, Asmodeus. I the human world, there were some bad guys I was with and I guess I was prepared to accept it if you were. You've changed vastly since I first met you and you're nothing like those swine up there." You whispered, squeezing his hand before turning to look at him, "It was a stressful week and then, on top of that, I heard some demons talking about you so I stopped to listen. They were saying such terrible things about you; how you cheat on me every chance you got, you're just using me as an exotic fleshlight, and shit like that. We... We haven't had sex in a while so I just wondered if you'd gotten tired of me. Then, when we were cuddling, I just couldn't push those thoughts out of my head and I couldn't stop myself from crying..."

Asmodeus nursed at his lower lip, scooting closer to you, suddenly cold.

"I could never grow tired of you, MC. You have and continue to inspire me to be better for you and myself. I actually..." He giggled sweetly, resting his forehead against your own, "I was gonna ask if you wanted to bang when you first came into my room. Sex really is the answer to everything, isn't it?"

You smile and shake your head, "Not now though, you need some dinner and some rest."

He pouts cutely, ticking your sides, but he knows you're right.

You snatch his hands away from you and kiss his knuckles, "I never meant to make you think of yourself any less, because you really are perfect, Asmo. No one has ever tried to make me happy like you do and willingly spent all of this time with me. You make me feel so loved... I don't know how to thank you. I just want you to know that I love you."

He's literally glowing at your words, wrapping you tightly in his arms and whispering, "I love you too MC. More than I could possibly say."

July 7th: TWO. MORE. DAYS!!! (for us VIP members)

could you imagine being loved that much?? holy FUCK. is my giant single pringle ass showing? is it too obvious I'm lonely?

the shit I write... it surprises ME sometimes

Countdown Masterlist

Main Masterlist

#obey me! shall we date?#obey me!#obey me swd #obey me shall we date #swd obey me #obey me imagines #obey me smut #obey me asmodeus x reader #obey me asmo x reader #asmodeus x reader #om! asmodeus #obey me! asmodeus #obey me! asmo #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #asmodeus #asmodeus avatar of lust #obey me asmo x mc

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y0itsbri · 3 years

Text

gallavich week 2021 - day 3 - travel au as always inspo from @ianandmickeygallavich // @gallavichthings

Stuck with You

Words: 5.5k

Summary: A winter storm strands a desperate-to-return-to-Chicago Ian at the airport with no car. A dark-haired mysterious man in an expensive-looking leather jacket and sunglasses seems to be his only hope. Ian grows suspicious of the man's true intentions as they embark on their road trip with some funky excursions. The two men find what need they most in each other.

"Fiona, I'm literally at the gate. I'm about to board now!" Ian was lying straight out of his ass as he was running through the bustling airport, dragging his bag as fast as the bent-as-all-hell wheels on the suitcase would allow him. He had not, in fact, woken up to his first alarm... or second. Maybe he was running extremely late despite Fiona's near-constant nagging to get there early in case something happens again.

Ian mumbled a quiet "Fuck" as his suitcase's wheel locked up again. He did not have time for this. His huffed cursing was apparently heard by Fiona's supersonic hearing. A woman in white capris glared his way. Okay, maybe it wasn't that quiet.

"Ian!" Fiona's voice rang through his phone. She sounded frantic and exhausted. She had every right to be, but Ian was not in the mood for an early morning guilt trip. "What happened? And you better stop fuckin' lying to me and get your ass-"

"Fi, I gotta go, love you, talk to you later, promise," he mumbled all the formalities as genuinely as he could muster before he hung up. He had tuned his attention into his surroundings and noticed an absurd about of people hovered around the rent-a-car station while the airport gates nearly empty, except for the occasional airport employees trying to reason with irritated passengers.

Sure enough, something did happen, as Fiona would have happily predicted. There was a massive winter storm and all flights had been delayed until further notice. Ian idly walked to his gate just to make sure he wasn't going to miss his plane like he had the day before. The gate was a fuckin' ghost town besides one man in an expensive-looking studded leather jacket and shiny dark hair to match. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of purple sunglasses, despite the fact that they were currently indoors.

Ian instinctively stepped closer to the man to maybe strike up a conversation. It wasn't something he was so fond of doing, but if he was trapped at an airport, he might as well make friends. Anything to distract his anxious thoughts about not making it back to Chicago in time for his interview. He couldn't even look at his phone, knowing Fiona was probably blowing it up right now about how he has to get his shit together. He knows.

In the midst of his inner debate, Ian oh-so-gracefully tripped over a chair -- the wheels of his suitcase coming to a halt, causing the bag to loudly clang against a nearby pole.

The man jumped up with a startle, yanking off his glasses and swiftly reaching into his boot and pulling out a small knife. He slowly took in the fact that there was no threat -- just a giant blushing ginger wincing at the knife pointed his direction.

The man sighed and tucked his knife away, "Shit, I thought you were trying to rob me or something."

Ian eyed a small black backpack tucked behind the man's legs. That bag was sleek and tiny compared to Ian's nightmare of a bag.

"Ain't look like you got much to steal," Ian joked, immediately regretting his decision to be witty after literally just being held at knifepoint. Maybe the mysterious man would appreciate his charm.

The man frowned. Okay, maybe Ian's humor wasn't for everyone.

"And how did you get that knife through security?" Ian asked in attempt to ease the tension a bit.

"None of your damn business." The man retorted shortly, but his eyes lingered over Ian for a moment longer, amused.

"Right." Ian replied after a moment. That was fair. He was a stranger, after all. But there was something about this man that was so intriguing. The man stood nearly half a foot shorter than Ian and clearly had the personality to make up for it. Ian was most definitely not in the mood to almost get stabbed again so he decided to lay off the talking, making an obvious show of adverting his gaze from the gorgeous leather-clad man in front of him.

"Uh.. hey," the man spoke up again as he looked around the terminal. "Did I miss the flight or did everyone just get abducted by aliens or some shit?"

Ian was amused at the aliens bit. Who even was this guy?

"It looks like all flights are delayed. Some freak super-storm coming in, don't want any crashes or anything."

"Buncha pussies," the dark-haired man grumbled as he stood up.

"Where are you going?" Shut up, Ian, shut up shut up shut up.

"Rent-a-car? Is that okay with you?" The guy pulled his bag over his shoulder, but turned his gaze back to Ian.

"Uh, yeah, I mean -- sorry, never mind." Nice going, Ian.

"I'm just busting your balls, man. Just gotta get back to Chicago before the weekend. Can't just sit around like a little bitch and wait for a storm to pass like some people." The enigmatic man teased him.

Ian rolled his eyes, but followed him like a lost puppy. "You're not the only one. I have an interview in Chicago in two days and I really can't miss it." Ian pointed back towards the rent-a-car area when the man didn't question him any further. "Don't think you'll have much luck with that, by the way. They looked almost sold outta cars when I walked past here earlier."

"So you walked past the rent-a-car instead of actually getting one? Real smart, Stumbles."

Ian cringed at the nickname. So much for first impressions. The man pulled out his phone from the tight pocket of his pants and stopped abruptly, Ian almost losing his balance to keep from stumbling into the guy. Again. Ian was literally swept up off his feet by this dude. He had to get himself in control before he lost what remained of his dignity.

"Ey' Dimitri, I need a car." The guy said into the phone. Ian awkwardly waited around. It wasn't like they made any plans of travelling together but they were in the middle of a conversation, he couldn't just leave. It wouldn't be polite. Not that much about this guy was polite to begin with. But they had something going at least. The phone conversation got heated very quickly. Now Ian could very clearly see why he was the type of person to have a knife in arm's reach at any given notice.

"I know you have fuckin' plenty. I'll drop it off next time I see Yevgeny, you know I'm good for it. I gotta job this weekend- It is your fuckin' business when your bitch of a wife- Oh c'mon, you can admit she's a bit of a bitch. Whatever- Or do you wanna tell Svetlana that your incompetent ass is the reason why she ain't getting her payment- or do you plan on paying for that shit? Didn't think so. Black cat. Red one."

There was definitely a lot to unpack and as curious as Ian was, he was definitely not gonna ask... yet.

"Red, you comin'?" The dark-haired man called over his shoulder as he started heading towards the airport's exit.

"Me?" Way to play it cool, Ian.

"No. The other giant ginger standing behind you. Yes, you."

"My name's Ian, by the way."

"Don't care."

"Where are we going?"

"Chicago."

Together but not together, they waited for... Dimitri, maybe? The shorter man beside Ian was tapping around on his phone and hadn't said a word about their plans beyond the simple 'Chicago.'

Right as Ian got the nerve to ask, a sleek black jaguar came to a halt on the street in front of them. Ian only knew a bit about cars because his brother liked fixing them up -- and man, was this a sick car. Lip would be jealous. Ian fought the urge to take a photo of the car -- unsure what the boundaries were in situations like this.

Ian's mystery man sauntered over to the driver's seat, exchanging a loaded handshake before switching places with the driver, who was apparently not Dimitri.

The passenger side window rolled down, revealing a bright red interior. "Coming, princess?"

Ian placed his suitcase in the backseat before hopping in the front himself.

"Do I ever get to know your name, princess?" Ian teased back. But he was genuinely curious.

The guy smirked, "Buckle up. I ain't slowing down for anything." And true to his word, they sped out of the parking lot, earning a few well-deserved horns from cars that they had cut off. Ian cringed.

Ian waited until they were on the interstate to speak again, not wanting to be the cause for an accident with this guy's hectic driving and the snow lightly falling on the road in front of them. Maybe he shouldn't be getting into cars with mysterious strangers. Maybe he should have thought of that before he did, in fact, get into a car with a mysterious stranger.

Ian decided to try again, "Ya know, if you don't tell me your name, I'm just going to start calling you something real stupid, like Bob or Cookie or Raven."

"Raven is actually kinda badass." The man replied, not taking his eyes off the road, but the side of his mouth quirking upward.

This guy was impossible, "Ugh."

"Ya know, you're kind of annoying for a passenger who should be grateful that I'm saving your ass. I could dump you on the side of the road, make you hitch hike all the way to Chicago or wherever the hell you end up. Probably some real weirdos out there wanting to pick up a pretty boy like you."

"Didn't ask to be saved." Ian blushed despite his best efforts to play it cool.

"No? So you were just following me all around the airport, why?" He glanced at Ian this time.

Yeah, he had a point. "Like I said, I got an interview I can't miss. My sister set it up for me and she would actually have my ass if I fucked this up. I'm talking like this-is-the-final-straw." Ian sighed, running his hands up and down his face.

"Hmm. You'll make it. I'm a good driver." He smirked. He lifted his hand off the wheel as if he were about to touch Ian's shoulder or something, but decided against it at the last second.

"Good and fast are not equivalent." Ian's breath hitched.

"Says you." The guy drummed his fingers.

"Says most people. And probably the cops." Ian was not about to spend a night in the slammer.

"Fuck the cops." He said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Yeah."

The conversation died down and a rock ballad lulled over the car's exquisite sound system. Damn, this was a nice car.

"Mickey." The guy murmured, barely audible over the bass.

"What?" Like the mouse?

"My name's Mickey, by the way." He glanced over at Ian.

Oh. "Kinda badass." Ian returned with eye contact a smirk.

Mickey smiled at the road ahead of them.

"Mornin', Sleeping Beauty." Mickey called out from the driver's seat, patting Ian's shoulder. Ian could have sworn Mickey's hand lingered a bit longer than necessary, but maybe he was just reading into the interaction.

Ian must have fallen asleep sometime during the drive, because now they were parking in the parking lot of a diner. Red neon lights highlighted the exterior, giving the place a sultry vibe. Odd vibe for an off-the-road diner, but Ian supposed it could be weirder.

Mickey hopped out of the car and shoved his hands into the pocket in his leather jacket, searching for something.

After a moment, Ian slowly stretched his legs out as he crawled out of the car and found Mickey smoking a cigarette while leaning against the hood of the car. It was picture perfect. Mickey hadn't noticed him emerge yet, so Ian decided to give into his urges as he snapped a picture of the beautiful man in front of him -- all black shadows and glowing red.

Ian closed the car door and Mickey stubbed out his cigarette and led them inside. "Usual table," he said to the hostess, who led them to a table set for two towards the back of the establishment.

Yeah, this was weird. Who the fuck had a 'usual table' at a joint off the highway in the middle of nowhere?

Inside hung the heads of exotic animals that Ian hoped were fake. Once they were sat across from each other, Mickey ordered a short stack of pancakes and Ian ordered a hamburger and fries -- the first thing he saw on the menu.

"So, brunch and tigers? What is this place?" Ian mused, curiosity and now suspicion overtaking him.

"Cool, huh? Got connections." Mickey went back to rearranging the condiments and sugars on their table.

"Mhm." Ian was skeptical, but didn't want to pry. He seemed to be on this guy's good side for now.

Ian spent the better part of their stay just taking in everything around them. The walls were lined with playing cards, posters from bands he's never heard of, bizarre news articles, lights swung and tacked up with a casual precision, literal jewelry and crowns under display cases, and he could've sworn there was sparkles mixed into the red paint covering the walls. It was like a goblin's cave or something.

Occasionally, he would look up at Mickey, who would look away almost instantly -- like he'd been caught in the middle of something. Planning something? Ian couldn't tell if Mickey's cheeks were actually blushing red or if it was just the lighting. Probably for the best because Ian blushed like a motherfucker whenever he held Mickey's eyes for too long.

Luckily, the waitress brought over their food before Ian could say something stupid. Ian's hamburger and fries were places in a classic red boat with black and white checkered paper. The burger was massive and had a flamingo pick placed in the center of it. Mickey's pancakes were covered in bananas, blueberries, and powdered sugar. The waitress also set down a glass elephant bottle filled with, what looked like, maple syrup. The waitress just smiled at them and walked away without another word. This place was strange. And Ian couldn't shake that feeling.

About halfway through eating, Ian had enough of the odd vibes and promptly excused himself to go to the bathroom. He had to get out of here, forgo his luggage in the fancy ass car. He didn't care if he'd have to hitch hike at this point. He washed his hands in the bathroom sink, planning when to make his escape, when the door swung open.

"Ian." Mickey looked genuinely concerned. No stupid nickname. Ian. "What's wrong, man? You looked pretty sick back there. Is it food poisoning? I'll give Anakin a fuckin' piece of my mind if he didn't cook that fuckin' burger. He knows better than to fuck with me." He rattled off.

Ian felt flighty and tried to take off during Mickey's rage-induced ramble but an arm gripped his bicep, stopping him in his tracks.

"Hey, Ian, look at me." That was the problem. Ian couldn't stop looking at him. He would probably do anything he asked. And that was fucking dangerous. He was a stranger with connections. That couldn't lead to anything good.

Ian finally made eye contact and the grip on his arm loosened, gently sliding towards his wrist before falling back to Mickey's side.

"Promise me you won't kill me." Ian blurted out.

Mickey's eyebrows nearly flew off his face, "Kill you? Where the fuck is this coming from? You think I hate you or something?"

"Well, maybe, I don't know. This is weird."

"Maybe." Mickey paused, actually making an effort to see this whole strange situation from Ian's perspective. "But I like weird."

Ian stayed silent.

"I promise I'm not going to kill you. I promise that I'm going to get you back to Chicago for your interview. I promise we're all good, okay?"

The tension in Ian's shoulder's visibly relaxed and he released a breath he didn't know he had been holding. But that confession still doesn't explain this weird excursion.

"Why does everyone here know you?" Ian finally asked, swallowing his nerves.

This was not a conversation for the men's bathroom, but here they were anyways.

Mickey looked a bit embarrassed. "Used to live a few towns over with my ex-wife-"

"Ex-wife?" Ian nearly choked.

"Svetlana. Fuckin' disaster. But I used to come here with my son, Yev, on special occasions when his mom was out. He always loved it -- thought he was the king or some shit."

"Oh."

"Don't see the kid as much anymore, but this place still has the best fuckin' pancakes so we go when we can."

"So this isn't a sting operation to kidnap me?"

Mickey rolled his eyes, "You're an idiot. I actually happen to like you."

"Yeah, me too."

"So glad you like yourself, champ."

"Oh, fuck me." Ian groaned.

"Maybe later." Mickey smiled too sweetly for someone who had just insinuated what they had.

They returned to their table, finishing off what they could. Mickey had insisted he pay for both of their meals -- reparation for nearly giving Ian a heart attack and fleeing off to fucking Mexico or something. The waitress collected their tab and walked away with a wink, "Have fun tonight, boys."

"See ya 'round, Geneva." Mickey called, "Always in my fuckin' business." But Ian could tell it was meant with nothing but fondness.

Mickey held gave a two finger salute to the hostess on his way out before holding the lion-studded doors and turning to face Ian, "We're in this together, yeah?"

"Yeah."

Ian didn't fall asleep in the car this time. Instead, they played the license plate game and carried impersonal conversation in between stops at gas stations and fast food restaurants.

"Books or movies?" Ian read from his phone.

"What kind of fuckin' question is that?"

"From the online list you made me look up!"

"Yeah, because you suck at coming up with questions!"

"Whatever. Books or movies?"

"Movies, duh."

"Aw, c'mon, you don't like books? When was the last time you even read a book?"

Mickey flipped him off, "What about you, smartass? You prefer books over movies?"

"Well, no..."

"Well, exactly."

"Cats or dogs?" Ian asked. "I've never had either, but dogs are cool."

"Yeah, 'cause you act like one."

Ian gasped, mocking an expression of hurt. "I bet you're a dog person, though."

"Yeah, why're you so sure about that?"

"They're all tough and shit."

"I got a cat back home. She's tougher than any dog I know."

"What's her name?"

"Indy."

"Aw, softy."

"It's short for Indica, clearly we're cool."

Ian gave an even more exaggerated "Aww."

"Shut up, next question."

They had missed the worst of the winter storm that had threatened their flight and gotten them in this situation to begin with. It was starting to get dark and while Mickey assured Ian that he could drive through the night, Ian insisted they could stop at a hotel and still make it back before his interview. Truthfully, he didn't want to be involved in a luxury car crash with a maybe Russian mobster. He couldn't pinpoint Mickey, but that's what he had currently decided on.

They had pulled off into the lot of a pink hotel. Mickey had gotten them two rooms, side-by-side. Instead of going up to his room and passing out like Ian had expected, Mickey headed straight towards the hotel bar -- ordering a mojito and a vodka tonic and making friendly talk with the waitress in a very low cut red shirt like they were old friends. Mickey was nothing like Ian expected.

Ian headed up to his room to drop off his suitcase and call Fiona back, sure she was going to disown him right then and there for avoiding her calls all day.

Ian opted against going down to the bar and instead watched reruns on the hotel tv. Alcohol didn't really mix well with his meds and he didn't want a hangover if they were going to be in a car all day tomorrow -- especially a nice car like that. Yeah, he wasn't puking in that anytime soon if he could help it.

He took a long, hot shower, indulging in the hotel's eucalyptus-scented body wash before settling in for the night.

Ian was resting peacefully until he heard a blood-curdling scream next door. Mickey was next door. Mickey.

Ian leapt out of bed, grabbing nothing but his shirt before frantically knocking on Mickey's door. C'mon Mickey, don't be dead. C'mon. C'mon.

Mickey swung open the door rubbing sleep from his eyes, "Ian?"

"Uh, hi. I heard screaming. Just making sure you're not being murdered."

"Shit, yeah. I get night terrors sometimes. I meant to mention that to you, but it must have slipped my mind after a few drinks. Didn't see you down there?"

"I called it an early night," Ian replied guiltily. He felt bad if Mickey was waiting for him. But he didn't know.

"Yeah... anything else?" Mickey looked Ian up and down. Ian was suddenly hyper aware he was standing in front of Mickey in only his boxers.

"Um, no." Ian glanced around nervously.

"Great." Mickey shut the door. Whatever. Ian turned to open his door, but it wouldn't open. He searched his pants for the key card only to be reminded that he was not, in fact, wearing pants. Fucking great indeed.

Ian knocked on Mickey's door again.

"What?" He grumbled with a tooth pick between his teeth. "'m not fuckin' screamin' anymore."

"I locked myself out."

"Of course you did." Mickey rubbed a hand down his face, "You ain't goin' down to the front desk in your underwear and I'm not goin' down there either so it looks like you can either come with me or sleep in the hallway, your choice."

Some choice.

Ian followed Mickey into his room, the same layout as Ian's -- just mirrored. Mickey tossed a blanket at him and then collapsed back into the pillows himself.

Ian tried to make himself comfortable on the ground but all he was going to do was bruise his fuckin' spine and freeze his ass off because apparently Mickey likes to sleep in Antarctica.

"Fuckin' cold." Ian mumbled, cocooned in his one tiny hotel-grade blanket that hardly covered his long body.

Mickey didn't open his eyes, but he lifted the comforter on the bed, "Get in here, Frosty."

Ian hesitated. But he was really fucking cold. He made sure not to touch Mickey at all as he crawled under the covers, laying as still as he could on the edge of the mattress. Mickey sighed and scooted his back into Ian's chest, grabbed Ian's arm, and draped it around his waist. "There."

Ian was still for a moment before settling into the warmth.

"Mickey." He said softly. He wasn't even sure if Mickey had heard him.

"What?"

"Is that your real name? Mickey?"

Mickey sighed, "Mikhailo."

"Hmm. I like Mikhailo. It's like Mick-halo, like you're an angel."

"Baby, you've met me. There ain't nothing good about me. I'm more like the devil."

"Why's that?"

"Dude, I almost knifed you when we first met."

"I had that coming, though."

"Maybe so."

"Is that all?"

"Fuckin' terrorized my neighborhood as a kid."

"Me too, you ain't special. Got anything else?"

"I'm a raging homo."

Ian rolled his eyes. "Me too. Anything else?"

"Can't do enough for my own kid."

Ian was quiet so Mickey continued.

"Svet won't keep him in Chicago where my job is. I don't wanna be the asshole to choose work over my kid, but I can't just up and leave, either."

"Yeah, but it sounds like you visit him a lot. He must know you love him, though. Bet you're a better father than mine."

"Yeah, mine too. Ain't hard to beat. He's a real dick. I don't wanna be anything like that piece of shit."

Ian squeezing his grip around Mickey's waist. "You're not. I'm still betting you're all things good."

"Hmm."

"Guess we'll just have to see."

"Guess so."

A moment passed before Mickey spoke again.

"Go to sleep, stupid."

"Goodnight, Mick-halo."

Ian nestled his head into Mickey's hair, smelling the eucalyptus on his as well. The two not-strangers drifted off together.

Ian woke up after Mickey, who was already packing up his oddly tiny back pack again. And Ian's suitcase. He took a moment to recall last night's events.

"How the fuck did you get that?"

"Morning to you, too." Mickey tossed a prepacked muffin at Ian's half asleep body. "Went to the front desk for a spare key after continental breakfast, duh. Eat up, we're leaving in 10."

Ian groaned and pulled the covers over his head. He felt a weight on the mattress beside him. He peeked from behind the blanket to see that Mickey had sat down and was currently staring at his legs? Ass? Who knew. Turns out 'thighs' was the correct answer as he set his hand on the outer part of Ian's right thigh. Just resting it there for a moment before getting up.

"Fine, we're leaving in 15."

Satisfied, Ian closed his eyes for a few minutes, feeling the ghost of Mickey on his leg. He was so warm. It was like his heart was on fire.

They ended up leaving 10 minutes after Mickey's initial 15 were up. But it wasn't Ian's fault that there was a hold-up at the front desk. Something about a scheduling conflict between a drag show and a speech contest. Hell, Mickey thought they should combine the two events and call it a day.

Back in the car, Mickey had some upbeat indie music playing this morning while they circled around the old town to find a gas station.

"Ya want anything?" Mickey asked before he turned away from the pump and towards the building, patting down his ass to make sure he had his wallet.

Ian was distracted by the patting for a moment before replying. "Uh, maybe a Gatorade or something?"

Mickey tapped the hood of the car twice instead of replying verbally, but the message was received nonetheless.

Ian pulled up the picture he had taken yesterday of Mickey in front of the bizarre diner, moments before he thought he was being hunted for sport. It was beautiful. He was beautiful.

After a moment, the driver's side door swung open, "Whatcha lookin' at, Smiles? Texting your girlfriend?" Mickey teased as he closed the gas tank and hopped in with a coffee balancing in one hand and three different flavors of Gatorade in the other.

"Nothing." Damn, Ian. Like that ain't an obvious lie.

"Ain't nothing, lemme see." Mickey took Ian's phone and dropped the Gatorades on his lap.

"Ouch! Well, thanks -- for these -- but give me my phone back!"

"Is that me?"

No sense in lying now. He was literally looking at it. "Uh, yeah. Thought it looked cool."

"That's dope as fuck, man. Send that shit to me, I wanna post it on my Instagram."

Ian certainly hadn't expected that response. But when had Mickey ever been what he expected?

"I don't have your number." And he wasn't asking for his number like some school girl. Mickey had literally requested he send him something. Ian had no idea why he felt so ridiculously nervous.

"Gimme." Mickey made grabby hands for the phone and began to plug in his number before Ian realized that this definitely counted as distracted driving in a very nice car. "Done."

Done.

The morning and afternoon went by pretty quickly. Mickey sang along to some pop songs while drumming his hands on the steering wheel. Ian took some photos of the inside of the car, earning some light teasing from Mickey. Shut up, this might be my only time in a car worth more than ten grand.

Ian watched the highway and the grass blurring past his window when he suddenly remembered the small notepad and pen he had swiped from Mickey's hotel room.

Mickey looked pretty distracted, so Ian took it out and began to sketch his profile. The man was too beautiful. He couldn't help himself. With a burst of confidence, he added a note to it before ripping the page out and sticking it in the side pocket of Mickey's back pack. If Mickey saw him, he didn't say anything -- for once -- and Ian was glad for that.

They were nearing Illinois state lines, so they had to get into travel specifics. Ian gave him the address to his apartment. Both being Southside, Mickey knew the area well enough that he wouldn't need directions until last minute.

Ian figured now was as good as time as any to ask, "What are you doing in Chicago?"

Mickey made a face like he was thinking about how much he wanted to explain to Ian. "Well, for one, I live there. Second, you've seen my tattoos right?" He held out his knuckles reading FUCK U-UP. Ian nodded and Mickey relaxed one hand back onto the steering wheel before continuing, "Tattoos were a family ritual. I help my brothers on runs when they need it -- those idiots can't plan for shit by themselves. Makes good money though. I also work part-time at this high-end restaurant downtown. Satisfies my sister that I have a legit job. Ain't too bad either. Lotta sketchy shit goes on, though, but they know I'm good to look the other way for a low low price." He grinned.

"Damn, you sure are something," Ian mused.

"Yup yup. What about you hot-shot? What's the whole deal with this interview?"

Ian sighed. "Never finished high school and uh, I have a mood disorder thing so a lot of places won't even consider me. Got fired from my last job for snapping at the dickhead manager --which was well-deserved by the way -- but still stupid. My sister, Fiona, got me this interview with the magazine company she works for -- she thinks I'm so sick like our mother and that if I don't have a job to keep me stable that I'll just fuck off. But the job would be really cool because I've been into photography and shit since like forever. I don't know, it's stupid. But I really just can't stand to let anyone down again, because I am better. They just don't always believe me."

Mickey frowned, and Ian worried he shared too much. But then Mickey rested his hand on Ian's thigh, "Hey, man. That sounds cool. But it's okay to not be okay. Just be honest with me, and I believe you. Promise?"

"Promise."

Ian's apartment was in sight before he knew it. It was starting to get dark out, but he would still be able to get a good night's sleep before his interview in the morning. Mickey's car definitely did not belong in his neighborhood. It stood out like a sore thumb. He couldn't stay for long if he wanted to leave with the car in tact.

Mickey helped Ian get his suitcase out of the backseat and then leaned against the car, watching Ian with a strange look in his eye. Before Ian could ask, Mickey stalked over to him and leaned up, and pressed his lip's against Ian's. He smelled so sweet. It wasn't the eucalyptus shampoo either -- that had long faded. This was just pure Mickey. Mikhailo.

The moment was over too soon and Ian groaned. Mickey gently patted his cheek, "Don't worry, big guy, you ain't gettin' rid of me this easy. I'll see you soon."

"Soon." Ian repeated back, still a bit dazed in the head.

Mickey smirked as he hopped back into the jaguar and sped off to wherever the fuck it is that Mickey goes.

Ian lugged his bag upstairs, unlocked his door, and plopped down on the couch.

Soon.

After texting Fiona one last time, Ian had turned his phone off to avoid any distractions. Giving in to the urge to text Mickey would definitely be a distraction. He needed routine. At least for tonight.

It was a relatively quiet night in terms of activities. He had microwaved a frozen dinner and watched a couple episodes of Schitt's Creek before taking his meds, brushing his teeth, and heading to bed.

No matter how chill of a night he was planning on having, his mind kept racing with thoughts of Mickey with everything he did. That man was so cool and funny and kind, even if he didn't believe it himself. Ian didn't know what exactly had caused such a reign of self-doubt over him, but they would talk about it someday. Ian wanted him to see how good he was. Mickey just brought long-vanished excitement to Ian's life again. He trusted him and cared for him. And he missed him. They had only spent two days together, but Ian couldn't imagine sleeping without him. He drifted off to sleep thinking about what Mickey would look like in his bed with him.

Ian had gotten up at his first alarm for once and arrived to the interview 15 minutes early. He was genuinely passionate about this job so it was easy to turn up his charm. He would hear a call back later that afternoon, but given that he was pretty sure Fiona was sleeping with his would-be boss's boss, he was almost certain he would get the job.

Ian finally turned his phone on when he got home. One message from Fiona -- reminding him of the interview. But more importantly, three from Mickey. He immediately clicked on Mickey's name, absolutely no use in playing it cool anymore. He couldn't get him out of his head.

Mickey (9:27pm): *image attachment*

Mickey (9:27pm): found this in my bag, i wonder how it got there🤔

Mickey (7:32am): good luck at your interview! hope it was worth literally dragging your ass across the country for

Ian smiled.

Ian (10:06am): I have absolutely no idea how that drawing got there. Maybe trolls? 😇

Ian (10:07am): And your luck helped! I think the interviewer liked me :)

Mickey (10:07am): hopefully he didnt like you too much

Ian (10:09am): SHE liked me a very healthy amount.

Mickey (10:10am): gonna keep it that way

Ian (10:12am): 🙄 Oh Mick. Can't be jealous over something you don't have.

Mickey (10:15am): i have you right where i want you dont you worry your pretty little head

Ian (10:17am): So you think I'm pretty is what I'm hearing?

Mickey (10:18am): i think your annoying go away

Ian (10:19am): I thought I couldn't get rid of you that easy?

Mickey (10:19am): changed my fucking mind

Their texting banter came to a halt when Mickey picked up a shift at his legitimate job. Ian unpacked his ratty old suitcase and cleaned up his apartment while he waited for his phone to ring. From the job... from Mickey.

Right when he was switching loads of laundry, his phone rang. It would be a lie if he said he didn't drop everything and run.

It was his new boss him on his new job. He couldn't hold back his grin as he immediately texted Mickey, then Fiona. He was proud of himself.

Fiona called and they chatted about the job -- omitting the part where he assumed she was sleeping with the boss -- and Ian's road trip -- omitting the part where he kissed his once assumed kidnapper -- and then about Fiona's kids and Carl's lately stunt. He was so invested in his little criminal brother that he almost didn't hear the knock at his door.

"Fi, I gotta call you back. I think I have a delivery or something." Ian wasn't expecting anything.

Ian nearly leapt backwards when he cautiously opened his door (there were no damn peepholes in his building) to find Mickey waiting on his doormat with a grin on his face. "Congrats on the job, man!"

"Oh my God. You're here?"

"Yeah, I told you I would see you soon. I'm a man of my word. And I brought cupcakes." Always the unexpected. "Well minus one. I didn't know which apartment was yours and I went to your neighbor's first and he wouldn't tell me where you lived without a fuckin' cupcake. Greedy asshole." He murmured, quietly smiting the old bastard.

"Mickey." Ian smiled, eyes crinkling with it. "You're good. You're so good."

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