#me grabbing some coat lapels
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andy-clutterbuck ¡ 1 year ago
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THE HOLLYWOOD REPORTER - 2018
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safination ¡ 4 months ago
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Little Things
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|Masterlist|
Pairings: Alastor x Reader Warnings: None! TLDR: There are days when Alastor just doesn't want to be touched, and you totally understand that. You're one your best behavior to not touch Alastor. Surely, with such an attentive partner, no misunderstanding will occur.
My inbox is currently accepting requests. Feel free to ask for some stuff. I'm in a mood to write and create, so lend me your ideas and I'll bring them to words. This is a drabble. It's weird not to make full one-shots tbh, but meh, wasn't in the mood to make this a whole one-shot.
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It’s the little things, really.
Alastor sits towards the edge of the bar, his stool nudged just a fraction farther than usual.  Charlie leans forward, eyebrows furrowed as she rants about this and that and this and that.
Tentacles slither out the shadows, wrapping themselves around the legs of Alastor’s stool. No one really notices when the tentacles pull him another fraction farther away.
Or, how just this morning, Alastor took time out of his day to grab a bowl, and carefully place the three eggs Niffty asked for.  The bowl slides across the table instead of being placed into her tiny hands.
See? The little things.
Heh . . .
You deserve a pat on the shoulder, honestly. Because what a considerate partner you are! Alastor didn’t even have to mention the slightest discomfort, yet still, you know he’s in ‘no touch!’ mode.
That’s why, for the entire day, you’ve been supporting Alastor’s ‘No-Touch’ day.
The rest of Hell’s day goes something like this:
Alastor asks you to hand him his coat.
And like the considerate partner that you are, you hand it to him. Although, you do have to bite your cheek to stop yourself from helping him wear the thing.
If it were any other day you would wrap it around his shoulders, and hold the back as he slips it around his arm. Then you would trail your fingers across his lapels to adjust its fit. Maybe, even give his bowtie a slight tug.
But you are a very, very, good partner.
So, your hands are kept to yourself, and the coat is placed on the table with a smile.
The devil seems keen on tempting you, but no, you are not giving in. (If you were in the garden, not even the devil himself could make you eat that apple.)
It’s been quite the productive day, and you definitely deserve an award! Not once have you touched Alastor, not have you stepped a foot into his personal space. It’s been difficult if you were being honest, but oh, well.
Maybe you’ll buy yourself a sweet, little treat for being such a considerate partner to Alastor. He’s quite lucky. Very few are as kind as you are, and even less are as attentive to his needs.
Just like right now.
There’s a gaping space between your bodies. It’s an easy thing to place yourself on the edge of the bed, careful not to roll and wrap your arms around Alastor.
Really, an award is in —
Alastor shoots up the bed, his note turned into the air with a scowl. “I refuse to keep playing this childish game,” he says, huffing at you. “I’ve been waiting all day for you to sort it out, but I’ve had enough.”
“Dearest . . .” You blink at him, pushing yourself up to sit as well. “I . . . What?”
His lips twist, and once more he huffs. It reminds you of a buck. “I would rather that you tell me that you’re upset with me instead of doing these ridiculous little things.”
“Ridiculous?”
“Ridiculous and childish!” Alastor points a finger at you, and there’s this petty voice urging you to chomp it off for such an audacity. “Do not confuse me for a fool, dearest. You’ve been avoiding me all day.”
“Well, of course, I have!” you say. “You’ve been in a mood since the moment you woke up. The cat almost got its tail bitten for rubbing between your legs.”
Alastor stares at you, an incredulous look on his face. “Ridiculous,” he tells you. “You are, absolutely, ridiculous.”
“I think you mean ‘considerate’.”
He flops back down to the bed, then rolls to you like some fucking child. Alastor keeps rolling until you don’t know whose limbs belong to who. His fingers curl around your shirt as he buries his weight deeper into you.
It’s the little things, remember? Like how you reach out to play with the strands of his hair until you’re finally combing through.
“I thought you were in a mood.”
“I am,” Alastor tells you, and deeper and deeper and deeper he goes. “All day I’ve been wanting nothing but this, yet you were so quick to deny me.”
“Don’t your moods usually require personal space?”
Alastor pulls you even closer, until your personal space becomes his as well. “This belongs to me,” he says. “And I don’t appreciate it being taken away from me.”
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sleeepybeary ¡ 3 months ago
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☆ 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐒 ☆
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𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓: Agatha has never been one for pets. However, upon some particularly lucky night, she seems to allow it just this once.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: poorly written (to my standards anyway), haven't read through it properly, so spelling errors are possible :I
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 950
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Having found the heating from your fireplace to be far too smothering as it seemed to flood the entirety of your small house, you had graciously spared ten minutes of your day to abandon the shell of which you were living under to gather some fresh air for your burning lungs.
However, as much as those ten minutes were originally to be at least half an hour, it was drastically shrunken to only a third at the capture of something wrenching.
So, with an oddly shaped stash hidden behind one of the dress coats your girlfriend possessed, you carefully slipped back into your home and made a quick yet cautious shuffle over to the central living space, also known as the last place you saw said girlfriend.
Upon entryway came the attention of Agatha. The woman glanced over her shoulder at you, her jaw pressing into the curve of her collarbone as her eyes ran their length upon you. A small furrow digs deeply between the span of her eyebrows, especially as she takes in your suspicious stance and particularly bulked up appearance to one half of your body.
“What is it, love?” She spoke, shifting to sit up better to meet your gaze properly, her shoulders falling back in a relaxing state.
“I have something I need to show you” You had spoken in a tone that emitted a quiet wisp of caution, your tone faltering to one below your average.
“O.. okay” Agatha had nodded, glancing away momentarily as her brain reached out to soothe a spurt of confusion. “So…?”
“So…” you copied her word, tugging back the lapel to the jacket wrapped gently around the object of your care.
A silk of black heaven came to life, the glistening of a moistened nose pointed outward in a sniffle as whiskers quivered against the contrast of warm air from the freezing world outside.
A cat of all things was what you had obtained.
You observed how Agatha’s facial expressions contorted, how a pensive fog coated the round of her eyes; her jaw tightens. “Why do you have a cat..?”
A timid smile tugged at the corners of your lips, your sights flicking between your girlfriend and the cat. “She needed help, Agatha. She was caught in your lavender, cold and wet from the recent rain”
“This isn't the first time you've tried to spring an animal on me before” Agatha had sighed, her slandered fingers tracing up the slim bridge of her nose before pinching it at the conjunction between her eyes.
“I didn't know the bird had bowel issues… but that's besides the point! Can't you see, this cat needs us!”
“But we don't need it, Y/n”
With a roll of your eyes, you shuffle closer, shifting so you're sitting in a way that almost presses up against Agatha, your elbow just scraping hers. “Stroke her”
“What?”
“I said stroke her” you insisted, motioning your arms forward to bring the fluff ball of an animal up and closer to her reach.
The cat had yet to stir from its peaceful sleep, a slight purring snore audible from up close, even as Agatha had hesitantly placed the open of her palm against its head, her fingers nestling between its drawn up ears.
Monitoring the way Agatha's hand mowed over the lengths of fur in a rhythmic pattern, you began to tilt the cat wrapped in the thicker material towards the woman beside you until she was holding the animal.
Having planted the cat within your girlfriend's arms, you cheekily grinned. “Stay here? I just need to grab a drink”
All Agatha could do was hum, her eyes boring into your own. Her eyes exiled as radiance of boredom, though the flux movement of her hand against the chin to the feline said otherwise.
Taking your time, you stood from the sofa and took a casual waltz to fetch a glass of water from just the room over.
However, soon enough, you had found yourself relaxed against the length of a doorframe. Your glass nestled within the grasp of your fingers and water racing down your throat in an on pour as you took delicate sips at a time.
You stalked from your new self-designated post with a curious gaze, observing and monitoring the way Agatha was interacting with the cat.
Though, minutes pass at a time before the soft of a drowsy meow and a gentle coo meet in a harmony - one that was sure to make home in your memory.
“Y/n?” Agatha had called, shifting slightly to peer through the kitchen doorway, her eyelids wrapping around her eyes in a rampant expression, a half drawn smile appearing in accordance.
“Yes, love?” reciprocating her smile, you moved to stand over her, a hand on her shoulder as your eyes met those of the golden ones in Agatha’s lap.
“Eve”
“Eve?” You furrowed your eyebrows, looking down upon Agatha as if she was having a moment of hysteria. “What's that mean?”
“Like All Hallows’ Eve”
“I'm… not sure I follow you here”
Agatha had rolled her eyes, her thumb and index finger moving to line the curve of the cat's ear. “You want to keep the cat, right? I'm just suggesting a name”
Your lips part slightly, mind finally clocking into place as the figuratively placed light-bulb flickers on. “Oh!” You began, breathing out an airy laugh on the premises of some sort of awkwardness “I mean… if you're letting me keep her, then I wouldn't be opposed to you naming her…”
Agatha shook her head, leaning her head back to look up at you from her seated position, her lips puckered. “Let us seal it with a kiss”
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mountainsandmayhem ¡ 3 months ago
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REQUEST Hi it’s me again…. Sorry i have new ideas like every second. I LOVE Joel’s thick jacket he wore when he was in snowy Jackson. I was thinking like Joel holding reader EXTREMELY tight like freaking grizzly bear type strength while they are wrapped into his jacket like a burrito. Maybe they’re sick or just really cold, idk i’m sick rn i’m just talking about myself with Joel at this point 😭. Again sorry I dont know how to shorten my words.
Never apologize!!! Pop in anytime, but only for a point form story or little blurb haha! I’m hoping you mean this jacket….
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You felt it before you even open your eyes that morning. An annoying tickle, right at the back of your throat, yet also in your nose and somehow your ear.
Joel’s lips pressed softly to your forehead as you stir awake. “Bye, baby. I’ll see you when I get back from patrol. ” He hovers for a minute before the back of his hand meets your forehead. “You feel a bit warm, but you also have like seven blankets on. I love you.”
“Be safe, my love.” You mumble, keeping your eyes shut tightly as if that will rewind time and you can go back to what you and Joel were doing last night. His hands on your hips as you straddle him. His lips touching every spot they can reach.
As he pulled away you were left with the scent of leather and pine needles.
It must be cold out, you thought to yourself, if he’s wearing his thick coat.
As you peel yourself out of bed you noticed the achy joints that usually go along with the itchy throat. All signs of an oncoming cold, or allergies, but it’s the tail end of fall and your allergies are usually reserved for the spring.
A chill spreads through your sore body once out of bed. I don’t have time to get sick.
As the daylight ticks by, the aching intensifies and the itch becomes a sniffle. By the time you leave your job at the stables, you’re freezing cold and have an annoying little cough that will catch you in surprise fits.
When Joel walks in the door you’re in a pair of his wool socks, 2 pairs of sweat pants, a sweater, one of his button down flannels, a winter hat and have a blanket wrapped around you. Your teeth chatter as you stand by the stove, waiting for your water to boil so you can make some of Maria’s homemade loose leaf tea to help fight off whatever you’ve caught.
“Whoa, it’s hotter than the Texas sun in here,” he proclaims as he takes his boots off, as he unzips his jacket and steps into the kitchen he freezes in his tracks.
“Oh, baby girl,” he coos softly. “Are you ok?”
“No,” you say, your voice muffled from how stuffed up you are.
“Aww honey,” he says softly, pulling you into his arms. On instinct your hands come out of the blanket, reaching into his thick leather coat to wrap around his waist. He pulls you in tightly, and then grabs the lapels of his coat to practically plaster you to him.
“I’m so cold,” a sniffle finishing the statement for you as you try to take in the smell of leather you love so much.
Joel starts the walk the two of you towards the bedroom, every muscle in your body protesting as you go. “Let me get you all tucked in and then I’ll make your tea. You should have asked Maria to send someone for me. I would have came home, baby.”
“Everything hurts,” you pout into his chest.
He gets you in bed and then slips his jacket off, laying it on top of you like a blanket before putting the actual bedspread over you.
“I know, I’m here now. Just rest. I’ll be right back with your tea.”
That’s the last thing you remember until the next morning. When you wake up you’re still wrapped in Joel’s jacket, only you’re on your side, your back pressed tightly to his front. His arm is wrapped around you protectively and you sink back into his warmth. You breathe in through your nose, getting just a hint of that leather and pine, and drift off again.
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justanotherhh ¡ 9 months ago
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alastor and touch
just a post documenting alastor and touches throughout the show
I didn't include the pilot, but i do want to mention it, because one thing that's quite striking is how they changed that element from pilot!alastor to show!alastor somewhat. might make a separate post for the pilot at some point to compare
I also did a mix of when alastor noticeably doesn't touch someone directly and in what contexts he gets touched, as well as a couple of other related boundaries and moments of interest
ep1 overture: alastor doesn't touch anyone in this episode. also noting that this is the episode where we get him unequivocally turning down angel's advances, and avoiding being filmed several times, with the iconic "this face was made for radio" line, so not only is he not touching, he's also making some general boundaries clear
ep2 radio killed the video star: 1. niffty crawls up alastor and he picks her up and puts her down. she crawls up him again. he clearly doesn't mind 2. sir pentious rips off a corner of his coat. alastor blows him up -- he later burns the piece of coat that sir pentious had kept: "not many people have been able to take even this much off me." 3. the entirety of the vox vs al showdown is of course notably done over radio/tv, so they're never in the same room. just interesting in terms of how it goes down with them generally in s1, they're constantly kept at a distance via screens and airwaves
ep3 scrambled eggs: 1. taps an egg boi with his staff, while threatening it. generally uses his stick to interact with the egg bois -- pointing, tapping, etc 2. another brief "makes screen fuzzy on a security camera"
ep4 masquerade: notably the episode (with lots of sexual content and specifically valentino) where he doesn't appear, except for briefly in a flashback
ep5 dad beat dad: 1. shakes lucifer's cane, rather than his hand -- he also wipes his hand on his suit afterwards, as if disgusted 2. TOUCHES CHARLIE'S SHOULDER!! notably in front of lucifer in order to piss him off. then goes ONE STEP FURTHER and partially puts his arm around her when saying how proud they all are of her 3. grabs lucifer and spins him out of the way during his part of the song 4. picks niffty out of the toilet 5. during the song: dances with charlie, pats her on the head/tucks her in, and puts his hands on her shoulders 6. during the song: pushes lucifer aside again, including doing a little hip shove 7. lucifer grabs him by his lapels and gets right in his face 8. hugs mimzy 9. grabs charlie and steers her by the shoulders 10. grabs/strokes husk's ear 11. grabs husk via his leash 12. rips the bad guys apart with his tentacles. also picks them up with his hands and eats them 13. mimzy pokes him several times in the chest. he removes her finger in annoyance, and boops her on the nose condescendingly
ep6 welcome to heaven: the other episode that notably includes a sex club (and also heaven and a lot of talk about redemption) that does not involve alastor
ep7 hello rosie: 1. grabs charlie's shoulders, and then her face, forcing her to smile 2. grabs her shoulders again when talking about the angels 3. touches her hair, and then sidehugs her while selling her on the deal 4. DEAL HANDSHAKE 5. more shoulder grabbing, cheek pinching, and patting on head when he's talking about her being charming and capable 6. links arms with her while taking her to rosie 7. rosie joyfully grabs him and spins him around 8. grabs charlie when introducing her to rosie 9. gives charlie his mic in order to help her inspire the cannibals (later replaced with a cane given by rosie) 10. dances with rosie, including a little dip
ep8 the show must go on: 1. more attempted screen voyeurism by vox 2. charlie uses alastor's cane again to speech 3. niffty crawls over him again and places a crown of roaches on his head (possibly his most openly joyous moment) 4. fights adam using his shadow tentacles and creatures, before getting seriously wounded by him (and then has his famous mental breakdown at the idea that his reputation could have been blemished by having been read as altruistic of all things, *spits*) 5. the torn picture of alastor and vox shows them a little apart from one another 6. appears in the middle of the hotel gang and is hugged by charlie, patted on the back by vaggie, and also adorably hugged around the legs by niffty
GENERAL OBSERVATIONS: 1. other characters do initiate more touches, with husk being the other character who's more standoffish, but that's also his general slowly beginning to open up emotionally and he shifts especially with regards to angel after ep4 (although he does do casual pats and the like before that + the massage) 2. generally everyone touches casually in some way or other throughout the show, including in background moments, except for alastor, who always touches very deliberately, whether it's for violence, manipulation, condescension, or affection -- he doesn't seem to engage in casual touch, but does accept it from certain individuals (mainly niffty). for example in dad beat dad in which he initiates the most touches, he's pissing off lucifer and manipulating charlie. he hasn't touched her before this on the show proper, and he's doing it because he has an audience and is trying to convince both lucifer and her of something (that he's a better mentor/support system than lucifer) 3. similarly when he's being very familiar with charlie in hello rosie, he's selling her on making a deal with him, and then on making himself indispensable to her, while also grooming her*** [EDIT: been informed that this could be misread: "grooming" here meant in the general sense of mentoring her in a way that would benefit him, as he says "she's full of potential that i could guide," NOT in a sexual context] -- in true alastor fashion it's hard to say what's sincere and what's self-serving, but it certainly all serves a purpose 4. that being said, i think charlie has become a character he doesn't mind touching, just like he doesn't mind it with niffty, rosie, or mimzy. funnily enough the only time charlie initiates a touch with him is in the finale, when she's relieved he's alive 5. i think the kinds of touches from each of these characters is different. with charlie it's that aforementioned part-manipulation, part-mentor type vibe, where he's very much insinuating himself into her good graces and trust, with niffty it's because She Is A Creature Who Crawls, with mimzy there's a Past (and she clearly crosses a boundary because she thinks she can with him, and he puts his foot down on that), and with rosie there's a respect. before i did this noting down i also thought he touched rosie way more than he actually does, but he only does it once in order to dance (which, if anything else even applies, i think is his main source of actually enjoying touching others, i personally don't think he actually enjoys hugs, it's just a Thing some people expect of you), and simply acquiesces to her grabbing him in the first scene. again, i think he accepts this because he likes her 6. This Deer Does Not Touch Men If He Can Help It
CONCLUSION: if alastor respects you, he will let you touch him to an extent. he's not touchy himself, and mainly does it as a show of power, manipulation, and condescension (lucifer, mimzy, husk, charlie), but he likes dancing. he stays faaar away from sexual contexts in general
I also want to do a separate post on alastor and respect/closeness/familiarity, because i think it's worthwhile analysing how he expresses these things with characters on his terms (for example, giving charlie the mic says far more about his positive feelings towards her than any of the times he touches her), and it's mostly very clear when he's comfortable in a situation and when he's not
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zayne-li ¡ 9 months ago
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Cross posted on AO3, may be edited in the future, it was written very shortly after the game actually came out.
Explicit, MDNI.
Zayne gets injured, MC saves him, and Zayne has very normal feelings about it.
Feelings like: femdom, etc.
"Zayne! Zayne! Can you hear me? Come on, get up, you have to get up, we need to go now!"
The world is fuzzy at the edges, and there's a tinny sort of ringing in his ears, but he hears his hunters voice. She's upset. Why?
Arms stronger than they should be tug at the lapels of his white doctors coat, dragging him up off the concrete, and he blinks hard several times. His head is swimming. 
Zayne groans, deep and low as his awareness slowly returns, able to blearily look around and recall that right, yes, we were at my favorite sweets shop... And then...
"I know it hurts, Zayne, but I really, really need you to get up right now." That's her voice again, and then he can see her. Right in front of him, holding him halfway off the ground. There's blood smeared across her lips, cheek, and eye, and her hair is ashy with dust, no hint of the real color underneath it all. 
It occurs to him that it's concerning he can't recall what exactly has happened. Was it Wanderers? Some sort of accident? A weak cough escapes him as his shoes scrape across the loose pebbles on the road. 
Everything hurts. Like one giant bruise all over his body. But he is slowly regaining his senses. He does have at least that.
All around them is destruction: rubble and dust and shouts for loved ones piercing through the fog. The air smells and tastes metallic as his hunter helps him up onto shaky feet, hoisting one of his arms over her shoulder and wrapping the other around his middle.
"Can you walk? We need to get you to Akso now."
Her pupils are blown, and eyes wild. It's a look he hasn't seen on her before. Despite the pain and danger they are in, there is something about her in this very moment(maybe the blood, the adrenaline, this demeanor he's never seen before) that makes his gut clench.
Ought to dissect that later, he thinks. Then again, perhaps not.
"Akso?" His voice is rough, throat sticky with dust.
"Yes, you broke at least two of your ribs in that explosion, you need medical care, do you understand?" 
His eyes drop down to hers, and he realizes just how much they are touching in this moment. All the way from their feet to her head, becoming a long line of heat down the right side of his body.
What timing, Doctor Li.
"I understand." He confirms to her, and plants his gaze firmly ahead of them, forcing his attention onto the task at hand rather than the way that look in her eyes makes him feel.
--
Weeks later he is still recalling that day, though who can blame him, confined to bed rest as he is? Three broken ribs and a full month of leave from the hospital, it's difficult to find ways to entertain himself. 
Zayne closes his eyes and he sees her covered in sweat, that single minded determination carving deep lines into her face. If she'd had to, she would have dragged his limp body to the doors of the hospital. It was a look that told him, "I'm not losing you too. Not today." It was that look that had given him the strength to keep putting one foot in front of the other. 
It aroused him deep in his gut, somewhere he hadn't even known existed. 
It was disturbing, in more ways than one. 
He'd begun to have dreams. 
Dreams of her coming home to his apartment, the door closing with more force than necessary, her dirty boots crossing through the kitchen with purpose. And when she found that purpose, she would have that same look on her face. In some of the dreams she'd still have blood on her face, and she'd lick the droplets away, just as she did while she labored to save his life that day. 
She would grab him by the knot of his tie, stifling his surprise with a bruising kiss, plundering his mouth like a woman starved, using her unexpected strength to push him back against the wall, to cover him with her smaller frame. He would moan into her throat and her lips would curve into a smile against his. 
One night, he wakes around four in the morning after dreaming of his hunters battle lust and he finds himself in an uncomfortable, sticky mess.
Zayne knows he loves her. He has since he was a boy, that has never changed, but through the years, his crush has waxed and waned, but remained fundamentally childlike. It hasn't been until they reconnected this past year that he'd even begun to let his thoughts drift to more unsavory places. And now... Well he determines that this new... Discovery of his remain well and firmly hidden. 
Her presence in his life is too precious to waste with his depraved imagination. 
After all, while he's been bored and cooped up in his apartment, with strict instructions from every person in his life to "Sit and rest, for once!" She has been visiting him almost daily. Usually not for long, as her own work keeps her extraordinarily busy(he supposes he's never noticed just how hard and much she works before, because he himself is often entrenched in his own), but always with an easy smile and some sort of treat for him. Chocolate, or cookies, one afternoon a little fruit tart from a vendor she passed on her way to see him.
Most of the time, it is no challenge for him to recognize that her friendship is far, far too valuable to risk losing. 
Today, she knocks on his door, and when he opens it, he almost forgets. 
She's a mess. 
There's a fairly large, but shallow cut across most of her face, from her cheek down to her chin, her hair is pulled up haphazardly, the leather glove she normally wears is missing, and her clothes, though neat, have small tears across one of her knees, and her shoulder. 
Zayne swallows before he greets her. 
"Difficult day?" 
She exhales a chuckle. "Just a long one, sorry. I was going to go home to clean up, but by then it would have been pretty late, and I was already nearby when I finished, so I thought I'd just uh... Drop in." 
She's sheepish, rubbing the back of her neck with one hand, and Zayne forces himself to look away, making eye contact with the corner of the wall instead. There's a chip in the paint. 
"Really, you needn't trouble yourself on my behalf, I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself. You require rest as well as I." 
What would it feel like, right now, to have her press up against him? Warm. Solid, he thinks. Would she grab him by his jaw? Turn his face this way and that? 
He imagines how she would taste. Salty and metallic, he thinks, especially now. His hunter, shoving him onto his back in his bed, she would be impatient, barely taking the time to undo their pants before sheathing herself on his cock, using her palms on his chest for leverage to fuck herself as she pleased. 
"Yeah, well then we might as well rest together, huh?"
She pulls him from his depraved thoughts.
Zayne realizes that the heat between his legs, if not controlled soon, will become a much larger problem(no pun intended).
"You have quite the knack for turning phrases, you know." His tone stays even, and he turns away, inviting her inside without another word, his excuse being the television in his living room that needs muting. 
"And you never have this much time off. It's kinda fun, really." 
He hears the click of the door shutting, and the turn of the lock. 
"I brought you something, too."
Thud on the kitchen counter. Whatever it is, it sounds hefty. While he pretends to look for his remote, he adjusts himself in his pants, burning with shame for this predicament. 
"What is it this time?" 
"Brownies! Salted caramel flavored. They're my favorite."
She appears quite suddenly in the corner of his vision, and he jumps, feeling his face grow hot. 
"Thoughtful as always." He smiles, and hits the mute button on another story of wanderer attacks. 
His hunter frowns, leaning her body around to get a good look at him. 
"Something's wrong. What's wrong?" Her tone leaves no room for arguments, and Zayne's eyes go a bit wide just for a moment. 
"What makes you think anything is wrong? Other than my broken ribs?" He doesn't realize it, but he imitates her in the way he tilts his head. The mirth in her eyes makes his chest ache. 
"You're blushing, Doctor Zayne." Her tongue pokes out from between her teeth with her smile. 
"Perhaps I'm coming down with a fever." He counters. 
She squints, but moves away, rolling not just her eyes, but her whole head. "Oooh-kay. Then perhaps I should leave, huh? Keep you from spreading your virus all over Linkon?" 
His mouth opens, but he has no immediate response. 
"Uh-huh." She oozes with smugness. 
God he wants her. Whether in his dreams, or right now, either will do. He's wanted her for so long. And now she's so close. Zayne feels his entire chest go tight with longing. He wants everything with her. For her. 
He wants her to be with him always. If he could put a tiny little hunter in his pocket and keep her there he would, just so he could pull her out when he likes to soothe the ache in his soul that she both creates and fills in equal measure.
He wants her just like this, messy and stinking of rain and sweat and blood, he wants her sweetness, her humor, her easy charisma.
And God he wants her to claim him. He wants the battle lust, her fingernails deep in his scalp, the stinging on his back. He wants her to take whatever she likes from him, his body, his soul, his everything. 
"I wasn't blushing. You are mistaken." Somehow he keeps his voice even and calm, though inside he fights to keep from pouncing on her. 
Down, boy.
Recognition flashes across her face. 
And then a flurry of emotions he has trouble naming. Confusion, shock, and something else he can't define, but it reminds him of the day they were in that explosion, and she became someone he didn't know. 
His hunter steps forward, further into his space, and on instinct, Zayne steps back, his swallow loud in the quiet apartment. 
She must see something on his face. Fear, he thinks. And her expression of bewilderment changes as her gaze flickers rapidly across his features, first his eyes, his mouth, the bob in his throat, the fist clenched at his side, and then back to his mouth.
Her movements are slow as she takes another step forward, as if she's afraid to spook him, like one would a wild animal. She grabs the front of his shirt, and he swallows back a whine. 
His hunter sees this too.
"Why haven't you said anything?" 
"You frighten me sometimes."
Do I, Doctor Zayne?" Her eyes are dark, and she pulls him down to her, tilting her head just so, and holds him a hairsbreadth away from her lips.
He can taste her breath. It makes his knees weak. God, if you are there, don't wake me from this dream.
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hazbinhazbinhazbinreblog ¡ 11 months ago
Note
Vox doesn't mean to overhear the conversation. He really doesn't. He's just passing by his daughter's bedroom when Charlie says something that makes him pause.
"…I went to go see Angel at the Porn Studios and ran into Valentino."
"What happened?"
"Well, Valentino offered me a job there—"
Vox slams the door open, his screen displaying a mess of static and a pair ominous, glowing red eyes. "Valentino did what."
Charlie jumps and Vaggie reflexively points her spear at him. "Dad! Uh, how much h did you hear?"
Vox takes a step forward. "I heard the part where you said Valentino offered you a job." His tone is deceptively calm. "Charlie, is that all that happened? Please don't lie."
Charlie averts her eyes guiltily and fiddles with the lapels of her blazer. But once Vaggie lays a comforting hand on her, she takes a deep breath and starts, "Well, I went there to find Angel and ran into him. We talked and then…he grabbed my arm and licked it."
Vox tilts his head curiously—a habit he picked up from Alastor. His screen flashes blood-red for a second. "He grabbed you…and licked your arm." He thinks for a moment before coming to a decision. "Alright then, I'll take care of it."
Charlie nervously watches him straighten up and head out of the room, electricity crackling with each step. "Dad, please be careful!"
Vox looks back at her, his screen fading from static to his usual face.
Charlie looks worried and Vaggie looks pensive. Neither of them look particularly excited about his vague statement.
He smiles reassuringly at the two girls. "I'll be fine, honey. Don't worry about it "
He leaves the room after that.
Alastor, he says through the radio waves. Al, there's something important we have to take care of.
What is it? Alastor replies.
Valentino hit on Charlie and offered her a job, Vox says, straight to the point.
Alastor falls silent in the other end for a moment before responding, I'll be there in five minutes. I need to grab a few things.
Vox smirks and sends out a feeling of appreciation through their connection before he turns into electricity and jumps into a nearby wire.
The world around him is filled with color rushing by and information invading his mind. Time simultaneously slows down and speeds up. Each action takes nanoseconds, reducing the time he needs to find what he's searching for.
With the Pride ring's technology in his grasp, Vox sees everything. He peers through every camera, looking for his business partner. If Valentino isn't spotted, Vox moves on.
Valentino is a slippery bastard, but he has some charm and a general aura that attracts demons whether they're aware of it or not. Vox isn't sure why it doesn't affect him, and if it weren't for Vox co-parenting Charlie with Alastor for years, he thinks he might have fallen for the moth's flirtations and propositions eventually.
The thought of that scares him. He knows what Valentino does to Angel Dust.
He and Alastor are trying to find a sponsored way to break the spider demon's contract with him. They're close now. They just need to find the physical contract.
Lost in his rage and thoughts, Vox nearly misses the bright red of Valentino's coat through one of the various screens in the Porn Studios.
He grits his teeth.
"Valentino."
Vox appears on the largest screen, his face back to the mess of pixels and static.
Valentino merely gives him an unimpressed glance. "What?"
"Did you offer the Princess a job?"
Valentino shrugs, walking up to the screen. "Of course I did. Even if she's a spineless little thing she's still royalty. Demons will pay big bucks for that. If it wasn't for her being Lucifer's daughter I might have snatched her up for myself."
Vox goes quiet. All the screens in the building freeze and black out, except for the one Vox is peering through.
Vox retreats into the data stream, and the screen flickers out.
The next moment, that same screen erupts with a surge of power and blasts Valentino point blank with a concentrated bolt of electricity.
Vox rematerializes in mid-air, grabbing onto Valentino's collar and, with the help of his initial momentum, sends him flying through the front of the studio and out onto the street.
Vox is alight with electricity as he steps towards the fallen moth. His voice starts to echo. "The one nonnegotiable term I had for our partnership was that involving the Princess in anything was off limits. I let you do as you pleased for a good portion of our time in the past because the benefits outweighed some of the costs, but you've crossed a line this time, Valentino."
Valentino spit out a mouthful of blood and sneered at him. "What the fuck? You know, I never understood why you put that clause there. Did you want her all for yourself? I don't mind sloppy seconds if that's true."
Vox fires another bolt at Valentino from his face, this one bigger than the last. Bundles of wires snake around him as parts of his screen shift and move to grow. The wires envelop him fully, and melt together as the mass grows before falling away to reveal Vox's full demon form: a large billboard screen held up by large metallic joints simmering with large sparks of electricity. A deep navy blue suit wraps around his figure, and a single hypnotizing eye amidst black static stares accusingly down at the other Overlord.
"I've tolerated your behavior for the past few decades Valentino. I'm at my limit now. Our partnership is over. You are not welcome here. Now get. Out."
FANFICTION ANON IS BACK AND THIS TIME ITS BADASS
The detail to which you describe things amazes me, it builds up just the right amount of angry tension
Post(s) this is referencing: 1, 2
Edit: fanfiction anon has blessed us with a full version on ao3
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cha-melodius ¡ 7 months ago
Note
Okay, there are a few on this list that would be very interesting but I thought this one could be fun for firstprince! 💜
Thank you for this, friend!
💜 surprise kiss / impulsive kiss (another one just over my self-imposed limit, oh well lol. I got a few of these purple hearts and so we'll get various iterations. here's a canon divergence one! send me a heart and get a ficlet)
This is not how he thought tonight was going to go.
Not the falling into the cake part. Obviously no one could have predicted that. No, the part that really surprised him was Henry’s reaction in the moment, how the shove that Alex thought was pushing him away was actually Henry putting himself between Alex and the toppling cake. How Henry had curled protectively over the top of him, shielding Alex from the excessive weight and the wooden structure within it.
How, in the heart-stopping silence that followed, he’d stared up at blue, blue eyes—not haughty or irritated but concerned, like Alex was something important to him, something to be protected—with Henry’s body pressed to his from hip to chest, and had the sudden and insane urge to kiss those full, pink lips hovering so close to his.
He didn’t, of course. Then again, maybe it’d have distracted everyone from the cake fiasco.
Now, though—now that they’ve both been shoved in some side room and told to wait here for whatever hell is about to rain down on them, buttercream and cake still coating their tuxes and clumping in their hair and smeared on their skin—now he can’t stop fucking thinking about it.
It doesn’t mean anything, right? It’s just a weird intrusive thought that won’t go away, like the way he wants to lick that streak of buttercream off Henry’s cheek. Everything is so fucked up that he’s having a mental breakdown. That must be the explanation.
“Why’d you do that?” Alex asks instead as he desperately searches for some of the familiar animosity he’s used to when dealing with Henry.
Henry frowns at him. “Do what?”
“Shield me like you were some kind of bodyguard.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Henry huffs, looking away as his cheeks turn faintly pink. “If I did, it was subconsciously and I haven’t a clue why.”
Nah, Alex doesn’t believe that for a second. Well, maybe the subconscious part, but Henry absolutely knows why. “Bullshit,” he says, stepping forward into Henry’s space to force Henry to look at him again. “No one puts themselves in harm’s way for someone they hate.”
“I’ve never hated you, Alex,” Henry sighs. “You’re the one who’s always seeking me out to antagonize me. Who can’t leave well enough alone. You’re the one who—”
Something in Alex snaps. Before he knows what he’s doing, he reaches out with both hands to grab Henry by the lapels, crumpling the fine fabric of his tux in his sticky fists, and hauls him in. Crushes their mouths together in a furious kiss that tastes of sugar and regret. Because that’s exactly what Alex feels when it happens, when Henry’s already-open mouth goes further slack in shock, when he realizes he just kissed a prince out of nowhere and is probably gonna get locked up in the Tower of London.
Alex jerks back, though he doesn’t let go of Henry’s lapels. Some kind of self-preservation instinct, probably, to keep Henry from decking him. Henry stares at him, his pink mouth still open and tempting—fuck���as his wide eyes rove all over Alex’s face.
“—who kissed me,” he breathes at last, an odd note of wonder in his voice.
Alex winces. “Fuck, I didn’t mean—”
Then Henry’s hands are in his hair and gripping the back of his neck, dragging Alex back in, and oh. Oh.
Henry’s kissing him back, and he likes it.
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mentality-project ¡ 1 year ago
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Carry Me Home
Morpheus x Fem!reader
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Pushing your way through the crowded bar, you welcome the brisk night air as you stumble onto the streets of London. Blowing off steam with your favourite coworkers at the end of the week had been much-needed fun, but now you were ready for home. A smile tugs at the corner of your lips as your favourite scenes from the night replay in your head, your hands burying into your coat pockets to keep warm. You hum to the tune of the song stuck in your head, the crowds thinning out the closer you get to home. You notice the change in atmosphere five minutes later than you should have, the sound of a raven's caw overhead bringing you back to the present moment.
You hear them before you see them, the rowdy laughter and loud explosions of curse words giving away their position. A glance at the reflective shop front across the street tells you there's three men behind you. Fuck. It could be nothing, but even so...you'd rather not find out. Your feet pick up the pace, but despite your best efforts they sound louder. Closer.
The raven's caw pierces the night air once again, causing you to flinch but you don't stop walking until you barrel into a wall of black. Two hands grab the back of your elbows to steady you, your wide-eyed gaze snapping up to your captor. Relief floods your nervous system at the sight of the familiar stern face.
“Morphy-baby~ I need a ride! Would you be a dear and take me home?”
“You are intoxicated.”
“Maybe~”
“How much have you had to drink?”
“More than enough.” You are oblivious to the withering glare Morpheus sends towards the drunken trio of men before whisking you off to your apartment. --- "Whoa, headrush!" you giggle as you stumble in the hallway as the sand dissipates, "Don't think I'll ever get used to that." Morpheus' gentle grip on your forearms helps you still your clumsy feet, your tipsy giggles falling silent as you get lost in the galaxy of his eyes. Your lips curl up in amazement as you grip the lapels of his coat, "You have such pretty eyes, Morphy...", your smile falters as the next unfiltered thought crosses your mind, "it's not fair."
You don't notice the way he huffs through his nose, disgruntled with the unwanted nickname that has been bestowed upon him.
"You are drunk."
"Yes~ I am~!" your singsong voice is shameless.
"You should be in bed." "You're not the boss of me," you pout up at him.
The Dream Lord says your name in that hypnotic voice of his that sounds like a seduction and a warning rolled into one, and just like that, your defiance shrinks away. "But I'm not even...sleepy..." the yawns that interrupt your protest betray you. "Is that so?" Dream's eyes glint with amusement in the darkness. "Okay, okay, fine! I'll go to bed, but only if you carry me." Morpheus stares down at you while you blink up at him. You had never dared to be so petulant with him before. But then again, he had never encountered you drunk. You yelp when he scoops you up into his arms, kicking your heels off as Morpheus heads for the stairs with you in tow. He is carrying you like you're nothing.
"Oh Mylanta~ Morphy~ you're actually carrying me to bed."
"You insisted."
"Well, yeah...but I didn't think you'd actually do it." King of Dreams is silent and you wonder what's going on in there - long-suffering sigh or an internal scream. It's only when he heads for the doorway to your bedroom that you start to squirm in his arms, "Wait, wait!"
Morpheus raises his eyebrow at you, arms still wound tight around your body. You point to the bathroom. "I need the bathroom. Gotta wash my face. Sleeping in makeup is a sin."
The midnight-haired being obliges you as he carries you into the bathroom, setting you down in front of the sink before he perches on the edge of your bathtub to watch you work. You go in on your eyes and lips with a bottle of liquid remover and cotton balls, following up with some facial wipes. You frown at your reflection while you're on your fourth wipe, unable to ignore the nagging in your head that argues that since you've gotten this far, you really ought to wash your face properly. Your hands are slathered in cleansing balm before you realise that you forgot to tie up your hair.
"Hold my hair back, Morph?" Morpheus is silent as he stands behind you to oblige you, and you watch his reflection in the mirror as he smooths your hair back with both hands before gathering your locks in one hand.
"Cheers, dear." you murmur as you rub the melted balm over your face.
You rinse and repeat with cleanser before following up with moisturiser. A few moments of silence pass when you turn to face Morpheus, blinking up at him.
"I need to pee." you announce before shoving the unsuspecting Endless into the hallway and closing the door behind you.
Morpheus has no time to react and you crack the door open like an afterthought as you peer through the gap. "You're still tucking me in, right?"
"Yes."
"Cool."
The door shuts again, soon followed by the sound of the toilet flushing, then running water. The door flings open and Morpheus is greeted with the sight of you brushing your teeth. You mumble around your toothbrush, using your free hand to guide Morpheus' hand to your hair. He gets the gist, because by the time you're standing in front of the mirror, he's holding your hair in a ponytail again. He lets go as you turn to face him.
"I need a shower, but I'm too lazy."
Morpheus lifts his hand and you're captivated by the stardust that swirls around you. When it lifts, you're in your favourite sleepwear and feeling more squeaky-clean than you ever have in your life.
"Did you just -" you cut yourself off as you run your hands along your arms, through your hair and sniff the collar of your shirt, "did you just glamour magic me clean?"
"Yes."
"How amazing." your voice is hushed as you breath out.
"What was that?" you're oblivious to the amusement that tugs at Morpheus' lips.
"How amazing!" you repeat louder, looking up at Morpheus with wide eyes.
"Will you go to bed now?"
"Yes!" you grin as you put your hand on Morpheus' shoulders before you jump up to wrap your limbs around him like a koala, "I'm ready!" The huff of his breath almost sounds like laughter as his hands grip your thighs, turning on his heel to finally carry you to bed. You gasp as he sets you down and pulls the covers over you.
"Ooh, you're tucking me in~"
"Yes, Your Grace."
"I love it." you grin up at Morpheus before patting the spot next to you, "come here, Morph."
Morpheus sits next to you and you shake your head as you pull the blanket out from under him, "No, lie down. I don't want you sitting near my face. What if you fart?"
"(Y/N), I am Endless. Endless do not -"
"Lie down, please!" you smack the bed as you raise your voice, feeling quite pleased with yourself when the Dream Lord complies.
You shimmy over to his body, throwing your leg over his as you lie your head on his shoulder, curling an arm around his chest.
"This feels nice," you smile as you close your eyes.
Morpheus doesn't respond, but a few moments later you feel his hand rise from your shoulder to stroke your hair and it makes you melt into him even more.
"Ohhh...I love you." you mumble into his coat.
"What did you say?"
"I love you. Please don't stop doing that." your eyes refuse to open as you feel yourself drift further and further into sleep with each stroke.
"Sleep well, (Y/N). I will meet you in The Dreaming."
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barefoot-joker ¡ 1 year ago
Text
Highway Robbery Yandere!Striker X Reader
Hey, guys! Long time no read! Today I bring you Yandere!Striker from Helluva Boss! I really fell in love with his character and knew I had to write something for him. I hope I didn't make him to OOC and that you enjoy! Thanks for reading!
Warnings: Swearing, Kidnapping, being held gunpoint (Reader), being robbed, being tied up (Reader)
Words: 2,796
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I sighed as I fluffed up my dark blue vest. I was feeling a bit tired today, but still ready for the day nonetheless. The sunlight from the morning strobed through the beautiful stained glass windows and the smell of eggs and bacon permeated the kitchen air. Today was going to be a long one with the Goetia family as Stolas would be in meetings and Stella was visiting her brother. Taking the breakfast from its pan, I plated them on intricate blue laced porcelain plates. Satisfied, I grabbed all three and headed to the main dining room. At the head of the table sat the Prince himself, a newspaper open in his hands. Stella sat across from him on the rotary phone, her conversation very loud. Octavia sat in between them, her earbuds in to tune out the world. Going around the table I sat each plate down and then stood off to the side. Pringles came up beside me and read off each royal’s schedule for the day. When he finished he turned to me. “Y/n, I need you to pick up some packages that are ready. I have a set list of where you need to go.”
“Of course, Pringles. I’ll get on it straight away.”
He nodded and the two of us stood by our masters in case we were needed. When breakfast was finally cleared, I went to my room and grabbed my coat. It was quite lovely: a nice heavy dark blue cotton that reached my ankles, gold embellishments detailing celestial bodies across the lapels and upper back. It was a gift from Stolas when I first arrived at the Goetia estate nearly a decade ago. I put it on and exited to the lobby, seeing the Prince and Pringles chatting. They stopped upon seeing me and my fellow servant nodded in my direction. “Your list, my lady.”
He handed me the small piece of parchment and upon skimming through it I noticed most things were for Stella. Stolas was next to hold his hand, a small lumpy brown bag in his talons. “Some money in case things were not paid for.”
He gently sat the bag in my impish hands. “Thank you, Sire.”
I bowed and placed the bag into the pocket of my coat. Bidding the two goodbye, I headed out the door.
Most of my morning and afternoon were spent going into various shops and picking up the desired packages for the Goetia family. I had acquired a large bag full by the time I headed home. However, as I was walking I felt something wrap around my waist. Looking down I saw a lasso and before I could do anything I was tugged into an alleyway. My head slammed against the brick building behind me and I felt the cold tip of a gun against my temple. Looking up in fright, I saw a light red cowboy imp snarling in my direction. His long tail kept flicking back and forth as he dug the weapon into my skin. “Well, well, well. Look what we have ‘ere. Yer far from home aren’t ya, little Goetia peasant.”
I trembled and the rope around my waist felt like it was going tighter. “W-what do you want?”
He smirked, his golden tooth glinting in the light. “I’ve been watchin’ ya all day, just waitin’ for the right moment to strike. Yer masters need their feathers ruffled so give me all ya got!”
Before I could question what he wanted, he attempted to tug the bag from my hands. I gripped tight and tried to hold it back. Within the struggle the bag ripped and everything dumped out. I gasped and the safety of the gun clicked off. “Pick. It. Up. Darlin’.”
The rope around my waist disappeared and I fell to my knees. My arms trembled as I picked everything up and handed it to him. He threw everything into a knapsack hanging off his shoulder before his yellow eyes stared back down at me. “Ya know, that jacket of yours would fetch a pretty price. Give it.”
I sighed but shakily took it off and handed it to the imp. His eyes scanned me once more before they stopped on the silver chain dangling from my neck. “Tryin’ to hide something valuable, princess? I don’t think so!”
He aimed the black gun at my neck and tapped my necklace with the tip. I gasped and clutched it in my hand. “I-I can’t! You can have everything but that! I-It was a gift from a friend!”
“Save the fuckin’ sob story. Hand it over.”
“No!”
He growled, slapped my hand away, and tugged. I gasped when I heard the chain snap and watched as he twirled the locket in his claws. He gave a chuckle as he opened the heart charm when suddenly his face fell. I could swear his face went paler than it already was. His eyes flicked back up to me and roamed my face, his Adam's apple bobbing from his gulp. Suddenly his gun came up and smacked my temple, throwing me to the ground in pain. I grunted and watched my perpetrator run off. Oh Lucifer, what was I going to tell Stolas?
I sighed in defeat and stood, dusting myself off. Silently I made my way back to the Goetia estate.
When I entered the foyer, I did my best to creep past Stolas’ office. However, he looked up and caught me. “Ah, Y/n! You’re back!”
He stood and made his way out the door to me. A smile graced his beak but it fell when he saw the state of me. My hair had become messed up from my fall and there was most likely a bruise forming from where the imp smacked my temple. “Y/n, oh my stars! Are you alright? What happened?!”
He knelt down and lightly brushed his talons across my forehead. “I’m sorry, Your Highness. On my way back I was robbed. An imp held me at gunpoint and took everything. I’m so sorry!”
I started to cry and held my hands up to my eyes. Stolas placed his hands on my shoulders to try and soothe me. “There, there. Everything will be fine.”
“But won’t Stella be mad? There was some expensive stuff he took.”
“No matter. All I care about is that you’re alright. Here, let’s get some ice to tend to that bruise.”
The Prince took me to the kitchen and had me sit as he went to the freezer. He placed some ice into a plastic bag and had me hold it to my temple. “I’m so sorry, Sire. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”
“It’s no problem at all, Y/n. I’m just glad all you got was a knock on the head. How about you take it easy and I’ll have Pringles get dinner ready.”
“I can help too, your Highness!”
“No please, I insist.”
I sighed. I never understood why Stolas was so nice to me. “Thank you, Sire.”
He nodded and left me to my devices. 
A few mornings later, I got dressed in my white dress shirt, blue vest and black pants. As I was tying my black bowtie I couldn’t help rub the area where my necklace used to be. It really was sentimental. It was basically a promise ring that my friend could afford at the time. With it gone I felt naked. A knock on my door made me get out of my thoughts. “Come in.”
The door opened to reveal Pringles. “Y/n, are you almost ready? His Highness is ready for you to take him to the Harvest Moon Festival.”
“I’ll be done in just a minute, sir.”
He nodded and headed off. I quickly tied my bowtie and made my way to the lobby where my boss stood waiting. “Ah Y/n, how are we feeling today? That bruise is not bothering you too much is it?”
Over the next few days my temple had gotten a sick purple and blue bruise. I was sort of used to it due to Stella’s tantrums but this one stung more. “It’s alright. How are we doing today, Sire?”
“Nervous. I heard my dearest Blitzy will be at the ceremony today and I don’t want to mess up in front of him.”
“I’m sure you’ll be fine, your Highness. Shall we go?”
He nodded and he teleported us to the Wrath ring. As soon as we got there a crowd had already formed around the stage. I walked behind my master and he gave his little speech. As I scanned the crowd, I froze. Standing next to Blitz was the imp that robbed me, a smug look on his face. I couldn’t believe it. Why the hell was he here? The cowboy spotted me and gave me a tip of his hat. I backed up a bit and as soon as Stolas was done I quickly followed him to his private booth. 
The festival went off without a hitch. Stolas was making heart eyes and swooning everytime Blitz was caught in action. As I watched I couldn’t help but notice the cowboy keep his eyes on me when he could. It almost seemed like he was trying to impress me. Soon it was time for Stolas to announce the winners. The two of us went to the stage and the owl cleared his throat. “As for the winners we have in first place, Striker! And in second place, my darling Blitzy!~”
The two came on stage and I could finally put a name to the face. I didn’t dare to look at him, the flashbacks of the gun on his hip attached to my forehead to vivid. The rest kind of went in a blur. I stood by my master’s side as he greeted each of the imps and chatted. It was only a few minutes into the meet and greet I noticed Blitz and his friends missing. I knew Stolas was wanting to talk to his secret lover so I went to look for him. My legs brought me to a house and I couldn’t help but hear the commotion upstairs. I forced myself up the steps and couldn’t help the gasp that escaped my throat. On the floor lay an unconscious male and female imp, Blitz leaning against the bed with his hand on his arm, and Striker holding a rifle out the window. My eyes widened when I realized that the gun was pointed at Stolas.
I rushed in and attempted to tackle the cowboy, but his tail threw me against the wall. “Well look who decided to join us. If it isn’t little Y/n.”
How did he know my name?
I growled and attempted to stand, but his tail trapped me. “Ya know, I wasn’t expectin’ to see yer face again, but hey, I won’t say no to seein’ yer pretty eyes.”
“Fuck you! If you think your flirting will make me forget your robbery and the fact that you were trying to kill my employer, you’re dead wrong!”
I thrashed against his hold but he just laughed. “Who knew ya could be so feisty! I love it.”
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Blitz stand before he side tackled Striker to the ground. The rifle went flying to the floor and as the two struggled, I grabbed it. I aimed it right at the nasty little cowboy. He threw Blitz off of him and stood, fluffing his jacket. “Now darlin’, how about ya just hand that gun on over.”
“Listen, fucker. I don’t know who you think you are but I never want to see you again. You come near his Highness and I swear to Lucifer I will kill you!”
He glanced from me to the rifle, his mind seemed to be made up. “Alrighty, sugar. Ya win. I’ll go, but don’t think this is the last time we see each other.”
With that he ran towards the window and hopped out. I dropped the rifle and helped Blitz pick up his friends, us returning to Stolas. We explained the situation and we thought it best to leave. The owl prince apologized to the crowd for leaving so soon and with that we were off.
The rest of the month went by as it usually would. Striker was nowhere to be seen which was good and life at the palace was steady. It was the start of the next month and nightfall had hit. Everyone was already asleep and I had just put on my baggy t-shirt and shorts. I was just about to crawl into bed when I felt a shiver run down my spine. Something felt off. I looked around my room when suddenly a hand wormed its way around my mouth. I tried to scream and fight my assailant but they held me tight and close. “Shh, shh, darlin’. Don’t fight. We’re goin’ somewhere safe, I promise ya. Just close those pretty eyes fer me.”
I couldn’t breathe, I could hardly move. Eventually I succumbed to the darkness.
When I woke up it was slow. I could feel I was lying on something and my arms were slightly lifted. I groaned and looked over to see Striker sitting in a chair nearby. “Yer finally awake! Took ya long enough.”
I tugged on my arms to sit up but they just stayed put. Looking up I saw they were tied to the bedposts. I kept tugging like the rope would give way and that just made Striker laugh. “Strugglin’ ain’t gonna help, sweetheart. I’m an expert at tying knots.”
He gave a wink and I scoffed. “Why am I even here? You got what you wanted when you robbed me blind. What more could I possibly give you?!”
“Do ya really not recognize me, Y/n?”
Striker stood and took off his hat, his white bangs flopping into his eyes. I shook my head. Suddenly something shiny was thrusted into my face and after staring at it for a few minutes I realized it was my necklace. The heart charm was open to reveal a picture of me and my childhood friend Benjamin from when we were kids. My eyes glanced between the photo and Striker and finally I understood.
Striker was Benjamin.
“B-Ben?”
“That’s right, babydoll. Yer best friend is back.”
“B-But I thought you were killed in the extermination! I, I-”
“I almost was but I escaped with an inch of my life. Holy bullets are helpful sometimes, ya know.”
I couldn’t believe it. It had been ten years since I had last seen my best friend. We had gotten separated when the extermination hit Hell and since then I believed him to be dead. “I wasn’t expecting to see ya that day. I probably would have killed ya but I recognized ya as soon as I saw yer necklace. I can’t believe ya kept it all these years.”
“How could I throw away the only piece of my best friend away? Dammit Benjamin, why didn’t you come find me?”
He growled and slammed his hands on either side of my head. “I did! I went to the orphanage in Wrath and they told me that the Goetias picked you up! The fuckin’ Goetias! Why would ya go with them after everything I told ya?!”
“Because I lost hope, that’s why! I thought I had lost my best friend and I knew it was only time before they killed me! I had no choice!”
He let out a rattlesnake hiss and backed away, his eyes full of venom. “How could ya lose hope? I promised I’d always come fer ya, didn’t I? That’s what the fuckin’ jewelry was for! To show my devotion and love fer ya!”
I paused. “L-love?”
He sighed and pinched the bridge of his snout. “Yes, pumpkin. Love. I was gonna confess but the damn extermination got in the way and the rest is history.”
He glanced up at me before sitting by my side, his tail coming up to caress my cheek. “But now that I have ya, I’m never lettin’ go. Yer never goin’ back to those pompous asses. I won’t allow them to take away everything I cherish again.”
His hands were quick to grab my legs in a death grip. “B-Ben, you’re scaring me.”
“It’s not Ben anymore. It’s Striker.”
He held up my locket and I watched as it twirled in the moonlight of the motel room. “When I gave this to ya I made a promise. And now I’m comin’ to collect. I am a bounty hunter after all.”
With that he leaned forward, and our lips were intertwined.
177 notes ¡ View notes
yes-ihavealwaysbeengreen ¡ 7 months ago
Note
"Keep your hands where they are or I'll tie them up." 😉- honestly any Charlie character that inspires you (Please &Thank you💞)
Thank you, love for sending a request! I hope you enjoy!
Pairing: Raymond Smith x Female Reader
Warnings: 18 + only for language, explicit smut, bondage.
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"Keep your hands where they are, or I'll tie them up," you freeze, your hand resting on the butt of your gun.
Michael Pearson looks between the two of you and chuckles giving you a wink, "I'd listen to him sweetheart, unless you're into that kind of thing."
You hold eyes with Raymond Smith as the two kingpins argue over pennies before reaching out for a handshake. "I look forward to working with you Pearson," your boss tugs on his coat, "we're both going to get incredibly rich."
He makes for the door and you go to follow when he stops turning and raising a hand, "not you sweetheart."
"What?" you ask, dumbfounded.
"Weren't you listening to the deal?" he laughs, breathing a cloud of smoke into your face. "You're staying to join Pearson's crew, under his second," he points a fat finger to the figure behind you.
You turn, reaching for your gun on instinct when Raymond Smith grabs your wrist and tuts, "now, now, what did I say would happen if you tried to pull a gun on me?"
"Let go of me," you growl, hearing the door click behind you. He releases your wrist and you hold it to your chest, "what are you going to do to me?"
“Whatever you’d like me too,” his smile is dark and you feel your panties dampen.
“What if I don’t want you to do anything?”
He smiles, “then I’ll leave you be.” He hesitates, “but we both know that’s not true is it darling?” He steps closer, invading your space, he smells like leather and expensive whiskey, and you feel a little drunk sharing the same air with him.
"What do you want with me?" He cocks a brow and presses you completely into the wall, caging his body with yours. You can feel every part of him, every part. "Oh," you whisper, feeling him hard against your belly.
"I've been watching your work for some time," he gestures to the door behind you with a flick of his head, "that fuckhead didn't deserve you. Didn't even realize what he had."
"And you do?" you challenge pressing so close to him, space ceases to exist. His smile is the only answer as he leans closer, pressing his lips to your own, instantly opening his mouth to tangle with your own. The smoke lingers on his tongue and you moan, collapsing back against the wall and pulling on the lapels of his coat. He follows, leaning into you and kissing you with a passionate combination of tongue and teeth. It's animalistic and you want more.
"If you're going to fuck my new employee could you wait for me to get out of the room?" Mickey Pearson interrupts, taking a final sip from his glass of brandy.
"Sure thing boss," Ray pants, "we were just leaving."
"We were?" you ask, breathless.
"Yes," he grabs your hand almost dragging you from the room and towards his SUV. He opens the passenger door, putting you into the seat, and buckling you in, making sure to touch every inch of you he can reach.
"Don't forget we have that meeting in forty minutes," Michael shouts from the doorway leaning against it and watching you with a smile. "Welcome to the team, sweetheart."
Ray frowns mumbling to himself before taking off, his hand on your thigh, rubbing your clit through the fabric of your pants. "We don't have a lot of time," he mumbles, turning off the main road towards the woods on the property.
"Where are we going?" You unbuckle your pants, desperate to have his skin on yours. You shimmy them down your legs, smiling when he curses and frantically looks between your exposed cunt and the road.
"Somewhere with a little more privacy," he pulls into an alcove of trees and gets out, slamming the door behind him. He opens the trunk, tugging something out and your mouth goes dry when you see the rope. He glances up to see your blank expression and winks, "what did I tell you, darling?" He lifts one finger and gestures for you to come, and with shaky hands you open the door, shoving your pants further down your legs until they pool on the floor, your shoes following.
He comes around the side of the SUV and stops, eyeing you from top to bottom. Holding your gaze he unbuckles his belt, licking his lips as you shove off your top and stand before him naked. He pushes down his pants, freeing his cock and pumping it. "In the back," he orders, reaching a hand out for you to follow.
You grasp his hand, gasping when he tugs you to stand beside him, his hand moving down to grasp your ass and giving it a sharp slap. "Sit," he orders, and you do, "arms behind your back." In seconds he's got your hands tied behind your back and your feet tied together in the back of the SUV, standing back and admiring his work as he continues to pump his cock.
"That's a site," he groans, reaching for you and pulling you to the edge of the SUV, your whole ass out for anyone to see. "I'm going to fuck this pretty pussy," he tells you, running his finger along your slit, "and from how wet you are, I think you like that idea. Tell me," he leans closer, "tell me you want me to fuck this pretty pussy."
"Please," you clench tightly when he slides a finger inside, slowly pulling it back before inserting it again, "please," you rock your hips but he puts a hand on your hip stilling you. He looks at you expectantly, "please fuck me," the word ends on a gasp as he slides his cock inside you.
Each thrust is sharp and calculated like all the things in his life, and you are gasping, twisting against the restraints for more. "Desperate little thing, aren't you?" he taunts, "you want me to fuck you harder? Is that what you need?"
"Please," drool dribbles down your chin when he grabs both your arms and tugs them back, pounding into you. You scream with each precise piston of his hips, feeling his cock in your cervix with how deep he is. Deep and thick he fills you so fucking good, and when he releases on arm to rub quick circles on clit, you're a fucking goner.
"Ray," you moan brokenly, knowing this is it, no one on the planet could fuck you as good as Raymond Smith. He doesn't stop, allowing the tension and pressure to swell again and again until you're cumming again so hard, you swear you blacked out for a minute.
"Shit," he groans, pulling out at the last second and turning you over, arm still tied behind your back, it pushes your torso up and your tits bounce with the force as he spills himself all over you. He's breathing loudly, running his fingers through his cum and smearing it all over you. "Mine," he growls, pushing his glasses up with his middle finger.
He writes his name in the cum, smiling down and leaning forward to leave a soft kiss on your lips. "Are you okay?" he asks quietly, grabbing a hunting knife strapped to the wall and turning you gently to cut through the ropes. You're shivering, and you pull your hands to your chest to rub where the ropes burned. "Love?" he asks, taking your wrist and rubbing over them.
"I'm okay," you clear your throat, "more than okay. That was fucking fantastic." A smile splits across his face and he chuckles, running his cum stained finger over your cheek.
"Welcome to the crew."
"Do all of you, give such a warm welcome?" you chuckle, seeing his brow furrow and tighten a little line appearing between his eyes.
"No," he shakes his head firmly, "that is saved specifically for me."
"You tie up and fuck all the new recruits?" you tease, "that big bloke from back at the house, Bunny I think...he must have really fucking hurt your asshole."
"You're a little shit," he smiles, laughing and tickling your sides. Until you're both in a fit of laughter. "Just for the record, I don't usually fuck any of the crew, or anyone period."
He sits up, grabbing his clothes from the neatly folded pile beside you and gets dressed. "Ray," you ask, holding his jacket around your bare arms, and he pauses to look at you, "why me?"
He finishes tying his tie, checking the time on his watch and pulling the jacket further around your shoulders, "because, I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. Because when I threatened you, you didn't back down. You're strong, confident, and after this meeting with Michael, I'd really like to take you out for dinner."
You pretend to contemplate his offer for just a moment before nodding, "Dinner sounds nice," you smirk, "as long as it's followed up by some dessert."
"Oh love," he sticks his fingers in your mouth, his cum salty on your tongue, "dessert is always the best course."
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ninii-winchester ¡ 6 months ago
Text
Unveiled Sorrows (Part 2)
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Pairing : Dean Winchester X Reader, Sam Winchester x Reader (platonic)
Word count : 2.4k
Warnings: spoilers for s1-5, heavy angst, canon level gore, mentions of torture, foul language.
A/n : This series follows canon plot line but some scenes might happen differently or be completely changed. Check the warnings for each part before continuing.
I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.
Sam, Dean and Y/n arrived back at their motel. Y/n opened the door the room and gasped as she saw Castiel and Uriel already in the room.
"Ah fuck you two." She snapped at the angels.
"Sorry Y/n." Castiel said in his monotonous voice.
"I'd prefer he apologised." Y/n motioned toward Uriel.
"What do you want now?" Dean growled.
"You are needed." Uriel says to Dean.
"Needed? Me?"
"Angels are dying and we ought to know who's doing it." Uriel started.
"And you need our help hunting a demon?" Sam asked.
"No, we can handle it ourselves but we need your help to find out who." Uriel said.
"What're we supposed to do? Angels dying, that's got nothing to do with us." Sam said.
"We have Alistair." Cas said.
"Well then what's the problem? He could tell you everything." Dean stated.
"He won't talk." Cas replied looking at Dean. A knowing look on his face.
"He's an expert in torture, obviously you can't make him talk. He's way out of your leagues." Dean commented.
"We know." Uriel said. "That's why we've come to his student." He added with a smirk. Dean felt Y/n freeze beside him. He himself felt himself frozen to his spot.
"Dean you're our only hope." Castiel said.
"No." Dean said sternly.
"I wouldn't be so sure." Uriel said and with a flick of his hand Y/n groaned as she choked on her own blood.
"You son of a bitch. Let her go." Dean growled.
"No." Y/n whimpered. "Dean no." Her eyes begged Dean not to go. No matter how much it hurts. Dean felt as if his heart would stop beating in his chest if it continued even for a second.
"Castiel." Sam looked at the angel in a trench coat, hoping he'd do something but he remained indifferent.
"I'll go." Dean snapped.
"No." Y/n coughed up more blood.
"You two should talk it out, but i don't think she has much time." Uriel said smugly as he moved his hand again causing her to cough up more blood.
"I'll go. I'll go, stop it you son of a bitch." Dean growled.
"Uriel." Cas warned and Uriel let Y/n go. Sam helped her sit up. She gasped for air and she leaned into Sam's embrace.
"Let's go." Uriel grabbed Dean's arm and then he pulled Y/n by her jacket.
Before anyone could comprehend what happened the four of them were at an abandoned warehouse.
"Why'd you bring her here?" Dean asked.
"For leverage obviously. I can't hurt Sam you know that. Get to work." Uriel replied.
"I wish it didn't come to this Dean. I'm sorry." Castiel said.
"You're not. Both of you are worthless sons of bitches." Y/n spat angrily. Uriel grabbed the lapels of her jacket and slapped her with the back of his hand. Dean grabbed him off of Y/n.
"You lay a finger on her again and I'm exorcising Alistair's ass back to hell." Dean threatened. Castiel glared at his fellow angel who just held his hands up surrender.
"Dean please don't do this please." Y/n looked at Dean but he wouldn't look at her.
"Cas." Dean said, his eyes darting between Uriel and Y/n. Cas nodded his head in understanding and Dean walked inside the room where Alistair was. Y/n couldn't help but let out a sob as Dean closed the door behind him.
After a few a minutes of silence Alistair's screams were heard. He was taunting Dean but withering in pain nonetheless.
"You're crying for him? Dean Winchester, he's a monster. He's not what you think he is." Uriel taunted Y/n. "He enjoyed torturing people in hell and he's enjoying it now too."
"You're making him do this. You're no angel, you're an asshole who misuses his powers." Y/n snapped back. Uriel stepped forward but Castiel stepped between them.
"Uriel I'm warning you." Cas said shielding her.
A loud crash was heard that had the three of them turning their heads towards the room. Casiel and Uriel ran inside Y/n following behind. Dean was on the ground bruised and battered.
"Dean." She screamed going to his side. Castiel grabbed the both of them zapped them back to their motel room where Sam was pacing.
"Finally. You're here. What happened?" Sam asked looking at Dean who had blood all over him.
"You idiots can't even make a proper devils trap. How the fuck did he get out?." Y/n yelled choking Castiel as she slammed him into the wall.
"Y/n let him go." Sam said as he tried to clean Dean's face.
"I swear I'll kill Uriel the next time I see him." Y/n let go of Cas but she was still pissed. She kept pacing the room. "Dean are you okay?" She sat beside him.
"Yeah I'm fine." He said without looking at her.
Days went by and Dean closed off on her again. He wasn't letting her in. No matter what she did, he wouldn't look at her, wouldn't acknowledge her presence unless it was completely necessary.
"Dean. You can't don't this. You don't get to do this to me." Y/n says when she finally gets him alone on one of the hunts.
"I can do whatever the fuck I want. This is my life." He yells back.
"Dean, we've already been through this don't close off on me please." Y/n said grabbing his arm.
"I'm not the man you used to know. I'm a monster. And you should stay as far away as you can."
"And you didn't remember it that night? That you're a monster?" She snapped back.
"It was mistake okay. I was drunk and it meant nothing." She knew he was deflecting, she knew he wanted to hurt her, to drive her away, but she knows he's scared.
"Alright I agree, it was mistake." She admitted and Dean's expression morphed into one of sadness. "But what about the next morning huh? You weren't drunk nor was it sex." Dean didn't dare look into her eyes because he knew she was right.
"Don't make it harder than it already his. I told you I can't lose you. Being with me brings pain and I don't want to hurt you. Everywhere I go, everyone I care about perishes. They get hurt or worse they die." Dean said wth his head in his hands.
"I dont care, I want you and that's all I know. And I don't want you to go through this alone Dean. I've been a hunter my whole life im not afraid not get hurt."
"Sweetheart this is bigger than that. This isn't just some spirits. We're talking angels and demons. The apocalypse is here. Please baby, you need to understand."
"Is this your final decision?" She asked a tear slid down her cheek. She looked up at him awaiting his answer. He wiped her tear with his thumb and pulled her in for a passionate kiss.
"God knows i can't live without you." He whispered against her lips.
"Good, 'cause I don't want to live without you either." She smiled as she kissed him back.
This happens everytime. Y/n feels like she's stuck in a loop. He tells her that he doesn't want to be with her because he's afraid yet he's at her door every damn time. He tells her its the last time and then he's back again. She can't tell anyone, because lets be real, the end of the world is here and she you can't just sob your love life, or lack of, to anyone out there.
Now Zachariah has been on Sam and Dean's tails to get them to say yes. But they told him to shove it up. They knew if they said yes the consequences would be severe. Millions of people could die. They couldn't let that happen.
After a few hunts here and there, they returned to Bobby's house where Ellen, Jo and Cas are also present. Y/n walked into the main room where Bobby sit's on his wheelchair.
"Did Sam tell you?" She asked the old man.
"Tell me what?"
"About the Colt." She replied. And by the look look on his face she knew he didn't. "SAMMY" she yelled loudly.
"You didn't yell loud enough, the corpses are still sleeping." Sam sassed as he entered the room. Ellen, Cas, Jo and Dean joined them as well. Sam well expected a snarky remark back but it never came. Unlike Y/n.
"You didn't tell him about the Colt?" She asked.
"Shoot. I thought one of you would." Sam said knowing a scolding is on the way but that didn't come either. He looked at Dean with a are-you-noting-this-too? look and the older Winchester nodded.
"So Becky, Chuck's assistant told Sam that Bela didn't give the Colt to Lilith, instead she gave it to a demon named Crowley. So we need to find this Crowley dude and get the Colt so we can kill Lucifer. Yeah sounds like a plan." Y/n spoke and then others looked at her in amusement.
"Crowley." Cas said. "I think I can find him."
"Great then. Good luck Cas."
After Castiel found the address to Crowley's place, Bobby came up with a plan to infiltrate.
"Alright so Y/n you-"
"Not going." She cut Bobby off.
"What?" Sam, Dean and Bobby said at the same time.
"I said I'm not going which means I'm sitting this one out which means..."
"Alright cut the sass." Bobby rolled his eyes. Sam and Dean looked at each other and then at Y/n. "Why?"
"Not feeling too great. Could die. Or get them killed." She shrugged pointing to the guys.
"Alright, we need a minute." Sam said grabbing her arm and pulling her off her chair. Dean followed.
"What is it?" Sam asked.
"Told you Sam I'm not feeling well." She shrugged his arm off.
"What's wrong?" Dean asked breaking his silence after a long time.
"I don't know. I'm dizzy."
"Why don't i believe you? You're not sick." Sam piped up, looking at her suspiciously. She sighed before she spoke again.
"Ask Cas okay? CAS." She yelled for him and he appeared.
"You called me?" The angel asked appearing infront og them
"Cas check me and tell them im actually not well." She said to him and he put his two fingers to her forehead.
"Hm she's unwell." Cas affirmed.
"Heard him? Happy? Idiots." She rolled her eyes.
"Maybe we should stay with her, Sam we could go tomorrow." Dean suggested.
"Are you nuts. This is the Colt we're talking about. Our only shot against the devil as far as we know. Lucifer is out there wanting to jump Sam's body and he'd go to any lengths for that. And you're postponing it for some flu of mine." She yelled at Dean. "Sam cmon back me up here."
"She's right." Sam said.
"But we need someone to distr-" Dean started
"Take Jo." Y/n interrupted him.
"Cas, Sam get the plan ready. I'll be back in a minute." When the two men disappeared Dean turned to her again. "What's wrong, sweetheart?" He asked cupping her cheek in his hand.
"I told you Dean it's nothing."
"Cmon baby i know it's not nothing if you're sitting out. You know my head won't be in the mission if i don't know you're okay."
"Don't do this Dean. This is exhausting." She whispered. This push and pull game had really started to get to her. "I'm tired. Just let me be."
Dean knew she was right. But he couldn't find it in himself to let go. It's like she's his drug. And he's an addict. He knows it's harmful to keep coming back but he can't help himself. He's decided he's going to let go. For good this time. And he won't be come back. No matter how bad his heart craves he won't bother her.
"I'm sorry. Just tell me you're okay."
"I'm fine, I promise." He nodded at her answer and pecked her lips making her sigh.
Retrieving the Colt was a lot easier than expected. The boys and Jo went to Crowley's and he just handed it to them. His bargain seemed fair but you can't really trust demons.
"Sam Winchester having trust issues with a demon huh?" Y/n heard Dean sass as she entered the main room. "Better late than never."
"Thank you for you continued support." Sam sassed back. She let out a laugh at his words.
"Helloo there stranger, how're you feeling?" Sam asked as she sat on the armrest of his chair.
"Phenomenal." She smiled back but it didn't quite reach her eyes.
"Something you wanna tell me?" Sam asked as he noticed her fidgeting hands.
"Just that I love you." Sam smiled at her words. She's never the one to express her feeling through words. Dean and her were so alike. It scared Sam sometimes.
"Are you sure you're not going to die?" Sam asked half jokingly. Part of him was worried sick.
"You're not getting away from me anytime soon, Sammy." She chuckled.
"You know you're my best friend in the whole world right and i love you too, just as much." Sam replied.
"Ellen did you hear that, Sammy said I'm his best friend." Y/n giggled. Ellen laughed at her words, everybody knew Sam was Y/n's best friend and she was his.
Dean watched quietly as the group shared a moment of happiness. This is as normal as this life could get. He watched Jo walking to the fridge to get another beer and he went behind her. Y/n noticed and it hurt like a bitch but she didn't let it show, she couldn't. She watched as Dean leaned down towards Jo and she leaned it too but then she pulled away.
Y/n excused herself for the night. She knew she wouldn't any sleep but she could try..They had a hunch where Lucifer might be, and they had the Colt. So tomorrow they'd be heading up to Carthage and hope that they could kill Lucifer. Or else they're in for a hell of ride.
Tags:
@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @queensilber
91 notes ¡ View notes
zhongliologist ¡ 9 months ago
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All or Nothing | Aventurine Modern! AU
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Pairing: Aventurine x fem!reader Genre: SMUTTTT!!  Words: 4k A/N: Hi it's been a while. I've been busy. So busy that it seems I forgot how to write smut. So it's not the best I could write after such a long time. I definitely did not proofread this before posting lmao Anyways, thanks for the continued support! THIS IS AN 18+ FIC. BY CLICKING THE READ MORE BUTTON, YOU HAVE UNDERSTOOD AND ACCEPTED THAT YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED AND LIABLE FOR THE DECISION YOU MADE.
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In some deserted hotel stairwell, a sense of urgency has permeated within its walls--far away from the lavish party thrown downstairs. The soft jazz, polite chuckles and clanking of champagne flutes were replaced with the sound of shuffling clothes, muffled voices and shallow breaths. Here in this forgotten place, your heart was electrified, your hands clammy, yet you knew you were in the right place at the right time.
“Hurry up…”
His arms were snaked along the arch of your back, fingers dancing at the hem of your dress as if threatening to divest it then and there. His lips were slow and deliberate on yours, like savoring a treat after such a long time.
Meanwhile, your hand created creases on the lapels of his expensive coat, and the other played with the blond hair on his nape, both with the intention of pulling him closer to you until perhaps he’ll decide to never leave you again.
“No need to rush, love,” he replied in between kisses. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“You could.” You moaned to a playful bite on your jaw. “I still haven’t forgiven you for last time.”
“Shh. Focus.” The blond scolded you, his leg already digging against the apex of your thighs. It might be too early for you, but he already has full intention to pull you into a climax.
It was a dangerous game you were playing, yet you couldn’t care less. Tonight, where it was only you and him--no roles to play, no time to pretend. Such moments were rare in your current lives, and you fully intend to relish it, despite all of its consequences.
They had no idea about me and you.
“Oh how scandalous…” he teased, lips tickling the edge of your ear. “The star of the party in a rendezvous with a Wall Street gambler? At an empty fire escape no less?”
You groaned, pushing him off. “You and your big mouth. You don’t know when to shut up, do you?”
Despite your irritation, his bright hypnotic eyes gazed at you, filled with adoration. “You still like me nonetheless.”
This time you rolled your eyes. “C’mon, let’s continue this in my room. I don’t want to risk anyone finding us.”
Grabbing him by the collar, you dragged him through several flights of stairs until you were at the right floor. With quiet footsteps, the both of you sneaked down the hallway, careful not to be seen by anyone--at least you were careful. Your partner on the other hand, had other plans, earning himself several points of irritation from you.
“Hey, imagine if we really got caught by someone, huh?” he grinned, allowing himself to be dragged along. “Oh I could already see the tabloid headlines! New regulatory commission chief already getting in bed with an IPC executive…an infamous one at that! Of course the IPC gets preferential treatment again! Imagine that!”
Wordlessly opening the door to your hotel room, you stepped inside and waited for him to finish his spiel. You simply stood there in front of him, ready to close the door.
“Or, I could imagine shutting this door right now and you not getting any action tonight.” 
“W-wait!” He panicked. “I’m sorry. Fine, fine! I’ll shut up now.”
You sighed, hauling him by the collar again as he stumbled inside. Why do you put up with this man?
“You’re still one hell of a mess,” you remarked with a resigned breath as you closed the door. “After years of not hearing about you, you suddenly appear as an IPC executive? Care to explain…hmm, what do they call you now? Aventurine?”
Picking himself up, the man before you brushed some imaginary dust from his coat and pinned you between his arms to the nearest wall. He still had that same smugness, the same confidence that allowed him to win any high-risk, high-gain bet he gets himself into.
“C’mon, love. Don’t you find the conflict-of-interest sexy?” he asked, leaning closer towards you until his forehead was resting on yours. “It’s like some kind of forbidden love.”
“Stop kidding around. I’m not amused.” You glared.
Still, he chuckled. Brushing a stray lock from your cheek, he caressed your face gently with his finger--tracing some imaginary lines only he could see. He used to do this a long time ago, when you sometimes fell asleep during long hours of studying; when you were still unfortunate enough to have him as your thesis partner. Those were moments he often goes back to--a touch base whenever he loses sight of himself. But right now, you are in front of him--just a moment’s reach; just a stone’s throw away. He was often called a crazed thrill-seeking gambler, but he wouldn’t gamble this moment with you for anything. He can’t afford to lose everything here.
 “Why…don’t we talk about the past later…?” he whispered, eyes lidded. “Right now, I just miss you, and you miss me too, don’t you?”
At this point, you had closed your eyes. He was right. Your need for an explanation wasn’t as important nor as urgent as your need to have him in your arms right now. That could wait. This…whatever it is, you knew your soul craved it the moment you locked eyes again back in the ballroom.
“Kakavasha…” you spoke as softly as you could, careful not to break this delicate thing between you, as if it could disappear any moment. “Please kiss me?”
With that, he smiled fondly. “With pleasure.”
Unlike your previous tryst in the fire escape, he lips were tender on yours, almost scared and hesitant, yet the burn remained just as strong. It moved slowly through your veins like molten gold, turning you pliable to his touch. Without realizing, his hands were once again on your waist, his thumb rubbing circles on the fabric of your dress, while his lips continued their gentle approach.
Everything you kept and held back after all these years came crashing on you like a tidal wave. His scent, his voice, the weight and warmth of his touch--they used to be memories you kept coming back to again and again, resigning to the fact that maybe you’ll never be able to experience it again. But now, they were real, he is real, and that realization welled tears on your eyes.
“W-wait…let me just…” you gasped, hands shaking.
As you ran out of air, the both of you suddenly locked gazes. His unique eyes always mesmerized you, reminding you of teal suns on a pink ocean, pulling you in until you might sink and drown and die. It was as addictive as a psychedelic trip, and all you need was him.
Unbeknownst to you, Aventurine was not as calm as he appeared to be. Just the sight of you--hair mussed, lipstick smudged and just slightly breathless from the kiss you shared--was enough to make his heart jump out of his chest, and his pants tighten rather uncomfortably. Gods…
“Sorry. I just can’t take this anymore.”
He groaned, pushing you to the nearest wall in a muffled thud as he crashed his lips to yours, rough and impatient. It didn’t take long for him to bite and suck on your lips, imagining how you would look like right now--flushed and lips swollen. He initially planned to seduce you, slowly working his way into your heart until you give in to his advances, yet now, you had him wrapped around your finger. Maybe it had already been that way since a long time ago. He simply hadn’t noticed.
“What--mmmh…mm…”
You immediately melted in his embrace, amused at how Aventurine tried to contain himself but failed anyway. He was both endearing and annoying, sweet but also kind of mean, a gentleman yet at the same time, an animal ready to devour you anytime. You were often swept up in his antics--just like how his hands were deftly peeling away your dress until it pooled on the floor by your feet, or how he slipped his tongue in between your lips, greeting yours in a sloppy kiss that had your cheeks burning as if they were on fire.
Making out with you is often enough to send Aventurine into a drunk lust-filled daze with his cheeks flushed and bright eyes blown wide. He couldn’t help himself, not when you were this sexy in his arms, not when you oh-so-discreetly managed to get rid of his coat and tossing it somewhere on the floor. His thoughts were all filled with you and only you. For you, he would gladly gamble away everything, he could even bet the world if he has to. For Aventurine, there was no one else that mattered but you. Even if the world thinks of him as some kind of maniac, he couldn’t care less as long as you were by his side.
Distracted by your lips and his thoughts, he hadn’t noticed that you were slowly inching him closer to the bed, until it was near enough that you could push him down in one move. Still in his button up and pants, you straddled him between your legs--his eyes wide and blown upon finally seeing you in black lace lingerie.
“Oh fuck…I’m not dreaming, am I?”
You smirked, grinding yourself against the very obvious tent on his pants. “Focus, dear. Can’t have you waking up so suddenly.”
“Ughh…”
The sudden friction had him gritting his teeth, amazed and at the same time unbelievably aroused at how bold you’ve become. With a toothy grin baring sharp canines, Aventurine suddenly grabbed your waist and rubbed himself against your covered slit, eliciting a moan out of you.
“We could do this all night, princess,” he gasped between words as he continued to grind himself against you, while you found yourself unable to do anything but roll your eyes as he brushed against your sensitive nub at the right angle.
“W-Wait…ah! P-Please…I…!”
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked, fingers toying with the hem of your panties. “C’mon. Don’t be shy. You can cum all over me.”
He could already feel your slick drenching him, lubricating the fabric of his pants and intensifying the friction that had you breathless on top of him. Aventurine could also feel himself leaking with pre-cum but honestly, he didn’t care if he’d ruin a good pair of pants. He was too busy admiring you above him--your beautiful breasts bouncing despite the constraints of your bra, the skin of your neck and your collarbones littered with splotches of color, your lips slightly ajar and whispering his name over and over again as if in a lust-filled trance.
Ah, fuck. He’d probably cum too if he wasn’t careful.
“Ahnn…! I can’t! Mnmm…I’m close…so c-close…!”
“That’s it…ahh…don’t hold back, princess.”
With one thrust, you came undone quickly--trembling and shivering as you moaned his name, your hands immediately grabbing on to his shirt so you wouldn’t fall over. Even though you were still reeling from the high, Aventurine had other ideas. Flipping you around, with him now hovering above you while you lay flat on the bed, he swiftly discarded his white dress shirt, revealing a toned body that was not there a few years before.
Unsure how it had never hit you earlier, you were now faced with the sudden realization that the scrawny college boy you knew was already a full-grown man; a man who could easily bring heaven to you.
“Like what you see?” The blond asked with a chuckle, dramatically waggling his brows just to tease you. “Like I said, don’t be shy now. You just came all over me.”
The thought immediately left your cheeks burning with embarrassment, and had you spurting a coherent reply. “S-Shut up! I’m just not used to this!”
At your words, Aventurine hummed, a thought crossing his head. “Well then, seems like it’s up to me to get you used to it.”
Before you could ask what he meant, he swiftly removed your panties--revealing trails of your glistening fluid.
“Wha--!” You desperately tried to cover yourself, yet Aventurine was faster, seizing both your hands away.
“If you don’t want me to tie you up, keep those hands on the sheets,” he threatened, but eventually grinned anyway. “or better yet, you could hold on to me. Whatever my princess wants.”
Not waiting for a reply, the blond leaned over as he spread your legs wide, allowing him access to your drenched pussy. Stroking a finger across your slit, Aventurine relished at your squirming figure--earning a shit-eating grin from him.
“Look how wet you are,” he chuckled darkly, teasingly blowing air right at your clit and making you yelp in surprise. “By the way, I’m called Aventurine now…in case you need a name to scream.”
The sudden reminder created a lot of questions in your head, most of them beginning with the word ‘why’. However, he didn’t give you time to agree or disagree, as he pressed a thumb on your sensitive clit, making your back arch at the sudden stimulation.
“Alright, hold on tight, love. I bet I can make you cum with just my tongue.”
The moment when he dived in you were struck by an unfamiliar sort of pleasure which electrified every vein in your body, rendering you helpless against his unrelenting tongue. He savored your juices as if they were sweet honey, lapping your slit clean, to the point of pushing his tongue inside of you.
Amidst all of this, you realized he was right again. You found your hands clinging on to him for dear life, pulling on his locks of blond hair as you struggled to find your breath after waves upon waves of pleasure assaulting you.
“O-oh…my god…fuck! Aventurine…!”
You were practically screaming when he reached your clit, sucking on the swollen nub until you were seeing stars. It was unfair how he was able to drive you crazy with just his tongue, and you can’t deny that it felt so good that you wanted more.
Aventurine could feel you getting close once again. Your body was trembling as you pushed his head down in a desperate attempt for more friction. He wouldn’t deny you that, of course. He continued his ministrations until you were screaming silently, your voice hoarse and dry after crying out in pleasure. And in one moment, something inside you snapped. With back arched and eyes rolled, you squirted on his tongue just like how he wanted; lapping on your juices like a man starved.
“See? I won again,” he gloated as he peppered your thighs with kisses, moving his way up to your stomach, and towards your chest. At this point, his erection was already too painful to keep within his pants, yet he had to do something first before thinking about himself.
Turning your head so you could face him, Aventurine once again descended his lips upon yours in a tender and gentle kiss. It was slow but passionate, filled with everything he wished to say after all those years but cannot. Despite the haziness from your high, everything was clear at that moment. His lips were soft and captivating, nibbling at your lower lip when he felt a little playful. Meanwhile, you met his tongue with yours, dancing in a wet and sloppy kiss which forced you to acknowledge how badly you missed him. Ever since you parted ways, there was no day where you wished he wasn’t there with you--through days where you were being celebrated, or through days where you had to crawl back home. Why did you have to go, Kakavasha?
Yet you knew that there will come a time that those unanswered questions will be finally answered. However right now, something else occupied both your minds.
“Hey…” you whispered between his lips, a trail of saliva still connecting you. “I want you now, Kakavasha…”
One more peck before answering you, the man asked. “Are you sure? I mean, you’re more than ready but--“
Cupping his cheeks, you interrupted him with another kiss. “I’m sure. I want you in me…please?”
For a moment, Aventurine was hesitant, yet as you continued to gaze directly into his eyes, he relented. With a resigned sigh, he smiled and gave you a kiss on the forehead. “No take backs, princess.”
Once again, he traced his lips down to your jaw, leaving a trail of pecks along his way. Remembering how much you shivered at a love bite, he made sure to suck on a pulse point on your neck, earning a low and sensual mewl from your lips. He drew a masterpiece on your skin, from your neck to your collarbones, biting, nibbling and sucking his way down to your chest.
 Expertly removing your bra with deft fingers, Aventurine reveled at the sight of your breasts, nipples pert and touch starved. He couldn’t resist the temptation, not when they were right there in front of him. His mouth descended upon one, twirling around his tongue as if teasing you, while his hand fondled your other breast, still in awe of its softness.
“You sure have grown in this department.” He remarked with a wide grin, earning a disparaging look from you.
Chuckling at your reaction, he continued to play with your breasts, squeezing a nipple and eliciting a moan out of you. He made a mental note to make you cum just with your breasts some other time--that would be quite a sight, wouldn’t it?
The vibrations from his laugh made your skin tingle, making you even more sensitive than before. It felt like there was a furnace under your skin, burning you from the inside out and turning you into a bumbling lewd mess.
“Aventurine…please…just…hurry up!” You whine through lidded eyes and a flushed face, as an uncontrollable emotion welled up inside you. “Please…I-I want you…”
Seeing you sobbing so desperately for him, something in Aventurine snapped. Brushing his bangs away from his face, his lips had widened into a dangerous smirk and a dark glint had appeared in his gaze.
“I was planning to be gentle with you tonight seeing that we just had a heartwarming reunion…” he started, kneeling before you and spreading your legs wide for him to delight in. “But never would I’ve imagined you’d beg for me so desperately.”
Finally releasing his dick from the confines of his pants, you could see how hard he was and how it was leaking so much of pre-cum. He was long, kind of girthy and it instantly made you nervous if it was right to goad him into fucking you senseless. You might have chewed more than you can swallow.
Placing himself on your slit, he began rubbing himself on you, coating his cock with your slippery juices. Of course, he had to tease you whenever he had the chance--hitting your already abused clit with his member as he brushed pass.
“You’re so wet, princess…” he groaned between labored breaths. “My dick could easily enter this pretty little hole of yours…”
“Please…! Aven…turine…I want you…I-I…!”
“Fine,” he replied as he gritted his teeth. “Here you go, princess!”
With one sharp thrust, Aventurine entered you, bottoming up immediately. The sudden stretch had you keening, arching your back from the sudden stimulation. You felt so full and warm inside…so full of him.
“Ah fuck…this is too much…” he growled, face as bright as his eyes. Upon meeting gazes however, Aventurine immediately crashed his lips on yours in a bruising kiss. In between pecks and bites, he kept groaning and murmuring your name, overwhelmed by the varying emotions welling up inside him.
“Mhhmm…Y/N…a-ahh…I missed…you…hngh--! I just…I’m sorry…mmhm…feels t-too good…”
“Aven…turine…!”
“Sorry…I can’t hold back anymore…”
As soon as those words left his lips, Aventurine began thrusting into you, looking for that one spot that had you melting in his arms. He was rough and relentless, pounding into you like an animal--leaving you screaming his name over and over again. It felt so incredibly good. After such a long time, you had forgotten how intense sex with Aventurine was. You could even say that he had become better, stronger and more refined in his ministrations, yet still intense nonetheless.
“Oh god…there! It f-feels…so good…!” you whined, holding on to his arm as he placed your leg over his shoulder, finding a better angle to fuck you silly.
“You like that, huh?” He purred, an amused grin plastered on his face. “Let me make you feel good even more.”
Without you noticing, he suddenly pinched your clit, earning a loud scream from your lips, your eyes rolling from the pleasure. Yet he didn’t stop there, he continued to rub on your sensitive nub as he pounded his cock into you, forcing your tight walls to remember his shape.
“F-fuck…fuck…I’m…ah! I’m gonna cum…p-please harder…fuck me harder…!”
With a sardonic smile, Aventurine snaked his arm around your leg and thrusted harder and deeper, making you drool on the sheets.
“I’m…close too…nghh…! Where do you want me, princess?”
“I-Inside…please finish inside…I want you…”
As soon as you said those words, Aventurine’s lust-addled brain refused to function anymore. All thoughts left the room and was instead replaced by lewd sounds of skin on skin and loud screams and low groans. You had been waiting for this moment, to be unraveled and ravished by him, to be pounded by his hard cock and filled with his warm essence. For a long time, you had waited to be with him, and finally your close to the climax.
In one particularly hard thrust of his cock, you came undone--squeezing him tight as you squirted once again. Your head turned blank and all you could see were stars as waves of euphoria washed over you, making you tremble and shiver.
“Ah, shit…! I’m cumming…!”
It didn’t take long for him to follow, filling you up with his warm cum as you trembled beneath him; the shock of his orgasm sent you falling from another peak. As soon as he was able to catch his breath, Aventurine leaned down towards you, capturing your lips with a tender kiss--this one saturated by his adoration for you. You easily reciprocated, smiling as you kissed him and allowed yourself to be swept up by his gentleness.
“I love you…” he whispered, burying his face at the crook of your neck. “I love you so much, and I’m sorry I left you that day. I couldn’t face you at that time…you were so perfect, while I was a fucking mess. I didn’t deserve you then. I don’t think I deserve you even now.”
Brushing your fingers through his fine blond hair, you listened quietly and allowed him to finish.
“Aventurine…no, Kakavasha…” you whispered gently to his ear, coaxing him to gaze into your eyes. “Yes, you’re a mess. Yes, you’re a goddamn headache. But I’m not perfect either. I might not be able to give you what you deserve. So it’s fine if you struggle and make mistakes, I’ll still love you all the same. As long as you would have me too, that is…”
Without warning, Aventurine enveloped you in a tight hug, kissing you wherever his lips landed. He felt relief wash over him, the heaviness in his heart he had harbored for so many years suddenly lifted just like that.
“I won’t let you go ever again,” he exclaimed. “This kind of luck doesn’t come around very often.”
Giggling, you began pushing him off of you. “Alright, get off me now. You’re heavy.”
“By the way, earlier…I, uh…” he scratched his nape, suddenly embarrassed. “You’re in some sort of birth control, right?”
You scoffed amusingly at him and shrugged. “Who knows? Wanna bet you’d knocked me up?”
Those words seemed to have unlocked something inside Aventurine’s head. He began imagining little versions of you with his unique eyes, and little versions of him with your features. He imagined you swollen with his child growing inside you, singing softly as you gently caress your belly. He could imagine all sorts of things; he could imagine a future with you. Covering his burning face with the palm of his hand, he glanced at you with an inexplicable expression.
“Hold on. We’re not done here yet,” he began, seizing both your wrists and pining you down to the bed. “If it’s a bet, I’d like to increase my chances of winning.”
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the-hinky-panda ¡ 2 months ago
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War of the Roses: Part I
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Title: War of the Roses
Rating: Explicit
Pairing: Bill Bevilaqua x Reader
Summary: Married at nineteen to a man you didn't even know, forced to live in a marriage that neither one of you wanted has killed any hope of a happy life. That is until a mistake in a country club coat room brings that hope back to life.
The first time Bill Bevilaqua kisses you, it’s in the coat room at a country club in Kansas City. To his credit, he thought you were the bartender that had been flirting with him all evening, because why would Cal Thresher’s wife be retrieving her own coat? He had grabbed you from behind, his mouth covering yours when he spun you around. It takes you by surprise but not for the obvious reason. 
It’s the first time in six years that you’ve felt actual passion. 
It was your sister that was supposed to marry Cal. She was a few years older, closer to his thirty-two years of age. She was more materialistic, more into the glitter and gold, the cars and the mansion. But there was some other oil baron, more established and with a larger bank account that would allow her to stay in her home state of Texas. She eloped, marrying in a beach ceremony on his private Caribbean island. And you were left standing at the altar in your sister’s dress, holding her flowers, and marrying her fiance in a small, clapboard country church in Oklahoma. 
You were nineteen. 
The terms of the marriage had been simple. Cal needed an heir to leave his estate to and you would be provided a life of comfort. You were merely an extension of his wealth and persona. Coming from generational oil wealth, you were well trained to fill that role. An arm piece for social functions, hostess for fundraisers and Christmas parties just as your mother had been. And, of course, be the mother of children that would continue the Thresher legacy. You thought you could handle it, the vapid existence and shallowness of the other socialites. You held out hope that once you had children, you would find your joy in them and not the social functions. 
Three miscarriages later and your gilded cage is quickly becoming a smothering prison. Cal’s patience is running out but there’s nothing you can do about your faulty reproductive system, especially when the doctor’s can’t pinpoint a reason for the losses. It was just two weeks after your latest loss when Cal asked you to accompany him on a business trip to Kansas City. Bill Bevilaqua, a wealthy ranch owner, was throwing a party for his latest business: growing medical marajuana. Cal had struck a deal with him, wanting to obtain a corner on something that had the potential to be lucrative, and this was the celebration of what they hoped was going to be a long and successful partnership. 
There had been a couple that had struck up a conversation with you and Cal about horses, a subject you actually had genuine interest in. The wife had three prize thoroughbreds, all had run in the Kentucky Derby at one point over the last four years. During the course of the conversation, Cal had handed you and the wife wine glasses but she had declined. 
“Sorry, none for me,” she had smiled proudly, her hand resting on her flat stomach. “Just found out we’re expecting our sixth.” 
The look Cal had given you when the couple moved on would have frozen a cactus in the middle of a desert at the height of summer. It was a knife twist to your gut, like you had wanted to lose those three babies. You knew you couldn’t get any peace in the ladies room to cry your tears so you had gone to the coat closet instead to gather yourself. You had your face pressed against someone’s rabbit fur coat, soft against your face and smelling of Chanel No 5, your mother’s signature fragrance, when Bill had interrupted you with his broad, roving hands and warm lips. 
When he leaned back and recognized you, his tipsy grin immediately disappeared. “Fuck.”
Tears were still wet on your cheeks, grief still heavy in your chest when you grabbed the lapels of his suit jacket and pulled him back towards you. You kissed him this time, tasting the whiskey that he had just recently drank, trying to memorize the way his mouth moved against yours. The way his hands returned to your ribcage, gently holding you against him. Eventually your senses returned to you, the fear of getting caught replacing the desire, and you slowly released him. 
“Fuck,” he repeats. “I’m sor-” 
You hold up your hand and smooth his jacket lapels. “I’m not.” 
“Look, I didn’t-” 
“I won’t tell Cal.” You grab your coat from the rack behind you and slip into it. “I suggest you don’t tell him either.” 
He says your name, shortly but with an edge of softness to it. It causes you to pause in your retreat from the coat room. 
“You know my name?” 
He gives you a confused look. “Of course I know your name.” 
It’s been so long since you’ve heard someone call you by your actual name. It’s always Mrs. Thresher or Ma’am. Even Cal calls you honey or sweetheart. To hear someone say your name, and only your name, reminds you that you’re still an individual. You reach out and gently lay your hand over his, your thumb moving over the large onyx and silver ring on his hand. “Please, call me that again the next time.” 
He raises his eyebrows slightly. “Next time, huh?” 
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waywardstation ¡ 11 months ago
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Cold to the Touch
Phione Akari AU
As a phione, it's hard for Akari to find anything fun or entertaining to do. But she still manages, even if it's at Ingo's expense.
I wrote this after I got a request to write about something for this AU with lower stakes and let Akari have some fun, after putting out several segments that were pretty stressful and sad for the characters. And if possible, to have her prank Ingo. I did my best hopefully!!!
OR read here on AO3!
AND check out the Phione Akari AU masterpost!
Enjoy!
————
There were many, many things Akari hated about being a Phione. 
Many changes. Many limitations. Many problems. 
But this was not one of them. 
In fact, she found that this was quite fun.
“And if I could have two of those leek salves, and a half-bag of those dried apricorns?”
Choy grabbed two small purple bottles and began weighing out a bag of the nut fruits as Ingo browsed the wares at the storefront, pointing out what he wanted to purchase. While there wasn’t much room with everything out on display, he did his best to keep himself under the protection of the storefront’s awning — the rain was coming down hard today.
And as much as he disliked the idea of dragging all of this stuff around with him in the coastlands, especially in weather like this, he had promised Akari he would actually take better care of himself out there now while continuing his search.
No more sleeping on the ground, or against trees and boulders. No more living off whatever he picked off of bushes and trees. No more foregoing needed sleep for a few more hours of searching. No more sacrificing his health when he didn’t need to.
“Anything else for you today?” Choy asked as he placed them down next to the other items that had been requested.
“Oh, one last thing; do you perhaps have a lightweight roll or sleeping mat?” Ingo searched past the shopkeeper at the storage shelves behind him, leading Choy to look over his shoulder — he could see what looked like a few different sleeping rolls. “Like the ones the Ginkgo Guild members are equipped wITh-!”
An awkward jerk as Ingo scrunched his neck into his shoulder, crashing the sentence with an odd jump. A subsequent squeak from somewhere in his coat collar, quiet enough for only Ingo to hear.
“Everything alright?” Choy looked back from the shelves, giving him a look halfway between confusion and concern.
“I uh, apologize. Unfortunately, too many nights sleeping on the ground has left me with a sore spine, is all.” Ingo tentatively answered, rubbing at his neck. “It… pulls sometimes. I’m sure you can now understand my need for an adequate sleeping mat.”
“Oh yes, of course,” Nodding his head, Choy stepped away from the shelf he had been approaching. “I understand! These rolls might be too thin; I have some thicker ones in the back that might be better for that. I’ll be right back with one.”
Ingo watched the man disappear behind the rows of shelves, making sure he was out of earshot before he hooked his lapel with a finger and pulled it back.
“Miss Akari, please!” He whispered into the collar of his coat. He could not see her and he was too saturated with rainwater to feel where she was, but he knew she was in there somewhere; he could hear her snickering. “You know I’m not fond of that!”
“Phi-phi!” She retorted. While Ingo had no idea what she was saying, the bubbly tone of amusement in her voice indicated she wasn’t taking him seriously.
He was sure it was because of a phione’s adaptability to water and its strange thermoregulatory characteristics — Professor Laventon had said something about it — but whenever it rained, Akari became just as cold as the falling water that mixed with her. Like ice cold. It turned her little flippers into something more like the freezing hands of death. And she unfortunately found it funny to -
“AH!” The frigid touch of Akari’s ribbon-like appendage (now more comparable to the frozen fingers of a froslass) against his neck made him flinch before forcing himself back down into a whisper. “Miss Akari-!”  
“Warden?” Choy called out from the back. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“Not to worry, it’s simply an instance of my neck bothering me again!” Ingo lied through his teeth. One last quick whisper into his coat collar, towards quiet giggling. “Please-”
“Alright, I’ve got a couple here that you can look at!” Returning from the back shelves, Choy heaved a bundle of various mats onto a display table with a grunt. “All varying degrees of sturdiness, but maybe you’ll like one of them.”
Ingo browsed the mats, pressing down on the different materials and lifting edges to test heaviness. Some were too firm to be kind to his back, and some were too bulky to comfortably carry. None of them seemed very suitable for him, honestly... 
As he browsed, Ingo couldn’t help but notice he was actually being left alone. No icy jabs, no startling coldness. Maybe Akari was listening to him now. it was nice not feeling the freezing hands of death grasping at the back of his-
“GHh-!” Ingo jerked awkwardly again, tucking his chin down against his chest and hissing through his teeth. He spoke too soon.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like a thicker mat? Or at least a neck roll for support? It seems…” Choy stalled for a moment, filtering his words into something kinder. “Bad.”
“No no, I can assure you it’s temporary! It’s simply rather distracting, ” Ingo emphasized the last word quite forcefully, rubbing at his neck. “I’m confident that’s the last time it’ll happen.”
“Maybe at least have the medical corps look at it before you go.” Choy did not sound any less concerned.
“Perhaps I will make that detour,” Ingo brushed it off kindly. He was going to have to make this quick, it seemed Akari was intent on embarrassing him in public just for some amusement. “I apologize for having you drag all of these mats out, but I may have to go with one of the previous, lighter alternatives.”
“Not a problem,” Choy pushed the heavier rolls aside and turned to pull down one he had initially suggested; a simple green one, tied with wound rope. “This mat’s good then?”
“I believe so,” Already searching through the inner pockets of his coat for money, Ingo only gave the roll a passing glance to confirm. “I think that’s everything I need.”
“Sounds good,” Choy lugged the mat up onto the table, bunching it with everything else he had requested and quickly reevaluating it all. “Alright, together that’ll be seven-thousand six-hundred.”
“Mm-hmm,” Head down, Ingo began counting out what he had in his hands. He should have enough…
“Oh, but wait-”
Thinking something was wrong, Ingo glanced up only to see Choy setting a small box on top of his pile of supplies.
“Just a few honey cakes, no extra charge.”
Ingo blinked, not catching the sudden tiny squeak from within his coat. “No charge? Thank you, and please understand I am not at all ungrateful for the offer, but… I’d like to know why?”
“Well, because I appreciate your business!” Short and simple, Choy clasped his hands together.
Ingo sized up the box; it wasn’t terribly big, but it certainly wasn’t small either. Truely, it was a kind gesture, but to him, all he saw was more cargo to lug around, more weight to tug at his back. And he wasn’t sure he could keep it from becoming soggy in the rain, anyways. 
And he couldn’t help but feel that it was perhaps a pity gesture; he knew Choy had seen him practically drag himself through Jubilife’s gates the other day.
“I greatly appreciate it, but I couldn’t in good conscience, really.” Ingo gave Choy an apologetic, flat-lined smile, putting up a hand. “Those are your wares! Please, keep them.”
Another small squeak, and this time Ingo heard it. He preemptively placed his hand over his neck just before she could touch him, her icy flippers patting his fingers instead.
“Then take it as a gift of support, please.” Choy extended a more genuine tone now, he confirmed what Ingo had suspected about it being a pity gesture. “I know what all of these supplies are for, Warden. You’ve been doing so much to find Akari, and this weather definitely isn’t making things any easier for anyone right now. And I can empathize; all this sudden rain’s been making it hard for Yui today. She can’t seem to shake this terrible sickness that won’t leave her alone, and it’s been really difficult lately to-”
“AAa -HaAH-!” Ingo interrupted with an embarrassingly loud shout, suddenly jerking forward with scrunched shoulders as both hands frantically clamped against his neck. “Just- Ahck! Stop it-!”
“...I’m sorry?” Staring at Ingo in bewilderment, the appalled tone of Choy’s voice was painfully shame-inducing. The heavy atmosphere pressed down on Ingo’s shoulders, the rain in his coat suddenly pulling down on him like heavy weights.
Oh Arceus. Did he really just laugh while Choy was empathizing with him over his sick wife? 
Did he really just say stop it??
“Ahem!” Ingo cleared his throat gratuitously into a fist, his face burning like fire as he realized what he just did. “M-my deepest apologies for that! Illness is terribly unfortunate, and I hope for nothing but a quick recovery for your poor wife! I absolutely didn’t mean to- Please, excuse me for a moment!”
“Right.” Choy crossed his arms, eyes narrowed and brows furrowed as Ingo stiffly hurried out into the rain, rushing around the right corner of the store.
Reaching the bridge that led to the housing units, Ingo stopped and made sure no one else was around to hear. Reaching into his coat collar and fishing Akari out of it, he held her close to his (still very red) face with one hand, sternly shaking a finger at her with the other. “Miss Akari!” Don’t- don’t do that! Just because I said no cold shocks, that doesn’t mean you can start tickling m-!”
“Phi-phi!” She squeaked back at him avidly. He didn’t understand, but with her troubled eyes and tone, he could clearly see she wasn’t laughing anymore — she probably realized how inappropriate the timing of that was, regardless of how accidental it was.
Ingo’s frown pulled, his eyes narrowing from behind the raindrops now dripping off his hat’s brim. “Forgive me if I’m wrong, Miss Akari, but I recall you fervently requesting me to keep you both concealed and inconspicuous while in Jubilife. I’d say this is making it difficult to do either!”
“Phi!” Freezing cold flippers wrapped around his thumb as she hugged it tightly. She often did that when expressing gratitude or apologetics to him, an extension of hugging him as a whole. Her guilty eyes indicated it was clearly the latter reason, this time.
“It’s alright, just please, please, don’t repeat it. I would very much like to complete this transaction in peace.” Ingo accepted the apology. He had planned for that to be the end of it and moved his hand to place her back in his coat collar, but she squeaked at him again.
When Ingo pulled her back, she made an exaggerated motion that resembled eating, holding her flippers up and mimicking taking bites out of something. 
He couldn’t make a guess until she pointed at the side of the general store, then repeated the motion again.
“The honey cakes? You wanted those honey cakes?”
“Phi!” She clapped her flippers together, celebrating his correct guess.
“Just one of those is bigger than your head; it takes you two days to consume one.” Ingo shook his head. “And there are several in that box; I’m afraid they’ll go to waste.”
Akari made a pleading motion and held her flippers together up at him with big eyes, but otherwise she grew quiet, and Ingo’s features softened.
She’s had it very hard. He knew that. These past few weeks had been terrible and frustrating and confusing. And while the last three days had certainly been much happier with his revelation over who she was, it still… it didn’t have much in it to be happy about in general, and he knew Akari was depressed with her limitations.
The giggles she had let out in his coat earlier was the first time he had really heard her laughing or having fun in a long while (even if it had been at his expense… but really, as a phione, there weren’t many things she could do to entertain herself right now).
So what was the harm in getting her some simple sweets? Giving her something to be happy about?
Ingo’s words left his mouth in a cloud of breath, visible in the frigid air. “Alright, Miss Akari. I will get them for you.”
“Phi!” She squeaked, a little surprised, but clearly happy. She hugged her flippers around his thumb again in a gesture of gratitude as he brought her back to his shoulder, tugging the lapel of his coat back.
“But please do your best to finish them! And please, no more cold touches. Or tickling.” He added as she wiggled back into her spot, amongst the folds of his tunic’s hood. “I would not like to laugh at that poor young man’s sick wife for a second time.”
The subsequent giggling at his shoulder was his only response as he smoothed his coat collar back down, but that was enough for him.
Now. To somehow find the strength to go back and face Choy. Ingo took a deep breath, steeling himself as he turned to walk back around the corner of the building. Ugh, he could already feel the blush of shame returning.
“I’d like to once again apologize for that outburst,” Rounding the corner, Ingo took his place back before Choy, who still appeared rightfully upset; arms now crossed, the store owner seemed much less amiable now. “Truely, I didn’t mean to laugh during such a sensitive subject.”
“Was that the fault of your sore neck as well?” Choy reached up to take his glasses and clean a few stray raindrops off them with his hanten. His words were painfully flat.
“Ahah… uhm, no,” Ingo coughed. “My mind simply reminded me of very ill-timed joke. Very unfortunate timing.”
Choy didn’t really believe him, Ingo could see it in his eyes. Regardless, he adjusted his glasses back on his nose, and went to grab up Ingo’s items, sliding them across the display table. “Unfortunate indeed. Here are your items, Warden.”  
“Oh, thank you. Though also, before I depart-” Ingo held out the money he owed, but began searching through his coat pockets again. “I believe I’ve had a track change; I would like those honey cakes after all. But please, allow me to pay for it in full; it’s the least I could do. And again, I do hope your wife recovers swiftly.”
It seemed Choy’s hardened features softened a little as Ingo dropped the money into his hand.
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timeslugarts ¡ 10 months ago
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Third Times a Charm
Part 3 of my Vera X Vox story
Part 1 and Part 2 here!
A/N - This is my favorite part so far. It's all fluffy and fun. No NSFW in the chapter either.
CW for Valentino being an asshole 👍
Vox stared at his phone desperately waiting for a reply. The day had been rough thus far, business deals going sour, Val being, well, Val, and Vox was about one more disappointment away from another citywide blackout. 
His phone pinged. Nothing but an address and wink.
He let out a sigh, at least there was one thing he could count on. 
Vox and Vera had been seeing each other for a couple of months now, and by seeing each other he means meeting up at a random location of her choosing and fucking until neither one of them could move. It was the best part of some of Vox's weeks, all the frustration and energy he'd built up could all be released into her body, or on it. She took it in stride too, always matching him tit for tat. She had even stopped stealing from him… most of the time.
And he really needed it today.
The clock slowly ticked down as Vox moved from one project to the next, attending meetings, product reviews, and the odd interview, but finally 8 rolled around. He grabbed his coat and made his way to the door, but something halted him. A large looming figure that made Vox's heart sink.
"Voxxy, darling, my bed's been awfully cold recently." Valentino purred, pressing his back against the door and closing it. 
Vox turned on the charm, wanting to get out of this situation as fast as he could.
"Val! Sorry my sweet! I've just been so busy! You know, work and the regular grind!" He chuckled. "Speaking of," he tried to worm his way around Val, "I have another urgent meeting to get to." Vox had his hand on the handle.
"You're lying." Val's voice sang out, Vox froze. 
Suddenly the moth had gripped Vox's lapels. "What whore are you fucking behind me back Vox!?" Val's saliva was dripping from his mouth in a fluorescent pink stream and getting on to the coat in Vox's hand. He dropped it grimacing at the garment.
"Val I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." Vox tried another disarming chuckle, he placed his hand on top of Val's trying to slowly pry it off of him.
"Do you think I'm a fuckin joke? I can smell the bitch on you." Valentino's grip tightened as he pulled Vox closer. He had lifted him to the point Vox couldn't touch the ground anymore. 
"Val please-" Vox tried to choke out, feet grasping for purchase, his hands tightening around Valentino's. 
"You. Are. Mine." Val growled out, "and don't you fucking forget it!" Val's third arm came up and hit Vox in the face, the sickening crunch of his monitor rang in his own ears as he was sent careening backwards onto the floor.
"What the FUCK Val?" Vox gasped pieces of his broken screen falling around him like some macabre glitter. 
"I told you, you're MINE, and who's going to fuck you now with a face like that hmm?" Valentino smirked, shrugging nonchalantly as if he didn't just destroy Vox's face. 
"If you're that desperate for a fuck why don't you just call Angel? Oh wait…" Vox sneered, knowing damn well that would get under his skin. 
Valentino gasped, and Vox was sure there was going to be a lot more after that, but he had already zipped into the nearest camera and far away from the Vee Tower, his jacket forgotten on the floor. 
Before entering the bar that Vera had picked, Vox looked at himself reflected in the glass. He looked like shit, his entire left side was shattered, pieces were static while others were simply black. There was no way she was going to sleep with him now. He let out a low breath before entering the bar anyways.
It was never hard to find her, no matter how dark and filthy the place was. She stood out like a beacon in the mist calling him to shore. He had no patience for games tonight though, there was no time for their usual back and forth. 
"Oh, fancy seeing you here." 
He had no response, grabbing her by the wrist and dragging her to the nearest available room.
"Woah, hey, Vox what are you-" She tugged her wrist away, pulling him to face her. The silence was deafening when she finally saw his shattered face.
"Vox what happened?" She whispered, any playfulness in her eyes was gone immediately. This is what he'd been dreading.
"So are we going to fuck or what? Or am I not to your standards?" He threw up the air quotes at standards. 
He continued to glare down, a little amused to finally see shock pass over her features. Always so calm, even when her life's on the line, but this is what finally gets her to crack?
Vera stared hard at Vox hard, she bit her lip, obviously deep in thought. About what, Vox couldn't be sure, but it was making him nervous. He was starting to feel antsy until Vera grabbed him by the arm and started to drag him to the exit.
"Come on, keep up." She said as she kept pulling.
"What? Where are we going?" He stumbled along, the height difference was enough that being dragged by her made it difficult to move properly.
"My place, now come on." She had glanced back to gauge his reaction, but Vox had shut up at that. Following along like it was his job, a prominent look of confusion plastered on his face. 
The whole way to her building was silent, neither one saying a word, but her hand never left his. 
When they arrived Vox drank it all in. He really wasn't sure what he was expecting, but this looked more like an abandoned office building than a house. Windows were boarded up, trash littered the sidewalks, some homeless bum was asleep in the grass next to the place. 
"Welcome to the Palace of Mischief." She used her free hand to gesture towards the derelict building. 
Vox could only stare back, eye squinted in uncertainty. Vera giggled and pulled him up to the door. 
She pushed inside and the change felt dramatic. Dim lights illuminated the area, showing a space that seemed to have been decorated by an interior designer with severe decision paralysis. Statuary pieces littered the cabinets, floor, and desks, as well as a variety of plants. Near the entrance a Roman column stood by itself, taller than Vox, with an empty fish bowl at the top. A worn looking couch sat in the middle of the room with several mismatched quilts thrown atop it. 
Vera dragged him all the way inside and pushed him lightly on the couch, "Now you sit here, I'll be right back." Vox was still too shocked to speak, he couldn't even believe he was in her house to begin with. All he could do was nod dumbly and watch as she walked off to the kitchen area. He noticed all her little flames that usually circled her neck had scattered off in different directions. One flew off to hang around a rather tall grass-like plant, another flew off to nestle into the empty fish bowl, one even went to hang out near a bust of a rather severe looking man. 
"Make yourself comfy, I won't be long." Vera yelled from the kitchen. Vox looked at one of the throws next to him, he pulled it over on top of his thighs while still maintaining its folded integrity. He felt silly doing it, but everything felt silly right now. He continued to look around himself, the TV, he noted, wasn't Voxtech, Hell it wasn't even modern. There wasn't a single piece of Voxtech in the room at all, no wonder he had such a difficult time finding her, it's like she was living in the stone age. 
Her thighs came into view before him, he looked up, she had changed into something more casual and was holding two steaming mugs.
"What is all this?" He blurted out, feeling uncomfortable by the normalcy of everything. 
"This-" She nudged the mug into his hand, "is hot chocolate." She stated simply, he looked at the contents of the cups, small marshmallows danced around the top in the shape of stars.
Cute. He thought idly. 
"And this-" She gestured vaguely around her, "is a relax day. Now arms up." He did as she said, raising his hands and the mug above his head. Vera climbed on top, draping her legs on one side of his thigh with her back against the armrest of the couch. He lowered his arms back down, hands settling comfortably on her stomach. 
"Do you like movies?" He laughed, the incredulity of the situation finally catching up to him.
"Of course I like movies doll, I basically am one." He quirked a brow at her. 
She giggled, and it made him smile. Every time she laughed it made his heart stutter, especially.
"I guess that makes sense," she tapped her chin, "oh I have the perfect movie, one of my favorites." Vera picked up the remote, pressed a couple of buttons and the movie came to life on the screen. It was an older movie, black white, something he felt like he might've seen before, in a different lifetime.
"Does it hurt?" She whispered. Vox looked over, she looked concerned. Her fingers stretched out to delicately trace around his screen, careful not to mess with the shards.
"No, not anymore." He leaned into her touch. 
"What happened?" 
"I'd rather not talk about it." Vox grimaced at the memory. He didn't want to ruin the mood by talking about Valentino.
"I understand… but I am pretty sure I told you to get comfortable." 
"Wha- I am?" How else could he possibly get more comfortable, cozy house, pretty girl on his lap, what else was there?
Vera laughed and plucked the hat from his head. 
"Hey!" He yelped in surprise.
"How does this thing even work?" She asked, flipping the very thin garment back and forth.
"It's magnetic!" He snatched the hat back and threw it on the table. "Listen, I don't have a lot of options on headwear, you don't know how hard it is-" 
"Shhh, watch the movie." She pressed her finger against the right side of his face. He felt himself blush at the soft touch. It was stupid, they've had so much sex, like SO much sex, he should not be blushing at something so silly.
"But you just-" 
"SHHHHH."
Vox huffed and threw himself back against the cushion, a small grin tugging at his face. 
They sat in a comfortable silence as the movie played, sipping on their hot chocolates, laughing at the antics of the characters, especially when the leading man pushed his ex wife by the face. Vox laughed at the unexpected act startling Vera so much she almost spilled her drink. Eventually he felt Vera lean into him, head resting on his shoulder, he let his arm drift to her shoulder, fingers stroking the bare skin of her arm. 
He was at peace, Vox couldn't think of the last time he'd ever felt so comfortable before. There were no expectations, no demands, he could just sit here. Even with his screen broken, he felt okay. 
A subtle shift at his side made him look down, Vera's hair had fallen across her face, as she snoozed away quietly, her hot chocolate still resting in her hands. 
“A magnificence that comes out of your eyes, in your voice, in the way you stand there, in the way you walk, you’re lit from within. You’ve got fires banked down in you, hearth-fires and holocausts." The man in the movie professed his love to the leading lady.
But all Vox could do was stare down at the sleeping woman, admiring the way she breathed, the curve of her lips, her long lashes, his claws moved to brush the hair from off her face. He set his cup on the table and easily lifted her only to set her back down on the sofa. He took one of her many throws and laid it over her. 
He stood there staring for a couple beats longer, before leaving without another word.
His head was fuzzy, the whole event gave him whiplash. First Val's treatment and then Vera's, somehow it felt like they were both lying to him.
The first Voxtech security camera he saw he hopped into. He was heading directly back to his room, absolutely not wanting to deal with anyone.
As he zipped back to his penthouse he thought that even though he never fell asleep, even though she was in his sights the entire time, that she might have managed to steal something from him anyways, but he was too scared to admit to himself what exactly it was that she had stolen. 
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