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punkshort · 16 days

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i know who you are | 6. the fight

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Word of Joel's indiscretion spreads quickly through town, leading to a vicious fight. When Joel begins to worry you may never forgive him, he sets into motion a plan to win you back.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, pining, sad!Joel, amnesia, slow burn, previous infidelity mentioned, violence (fist fight), blood, bruises, jealousy/possessiveness

WC: 8K

Series Masterlist

The thought of leaving your bed was excruciating.

For nearly three days, you could hardly do much more than use the bathroom and drink some water. When you heard Joel leave for patrol, his footsteps always pausing hesitantly on the other side of your door before begrudgingly going down the steps, you would eventually drag yourself downstairs and force yourself to eat something. Anything. It didn't really matter. You didn't crave anything. Didn't look forward to a single thing except the sweet embrace of sleep. But by the fourth day, you knew you would have to go back to work or else Nick would make a house call to check on you.

You had lied and said you hurt your back so you could get out of working for a few days, but enough time had passed, enough tears were shed, enough pity was wasted when you finally forced yourself to get up one morning and take a shower.

It helped more than you thought it would. The steam billowing around you in the confined space, the warm water pummeling your shoulders, working out the kinks in your muscles from too many hours hunched over in agony. If you had any self-awareness, you might have asked yourself why you had such a powerful reaction to Joel kissing someone else. If you had a clear enough mind, you might have remembered you didn't even react this badly when you woke from your accident only to discover your whole family was dead and the world went to hell.

No, you only seemed to fall into a deep depression over Joel finding comfort from another woman.

And not just any woman. Angie.

It still made your blood boil as you slipped on clean clothes for work. You should have known she was a shark, smelling blood in the water that very first night when she cornered you in the bathroom.

And to make matters worse, he had the audacity to accuse you of not caring. Not giving a shit about him, to be exact.

That fucking asshole.

When you came down the stairs and spotted the coffee maker still on with your favorite mug next to the carafe, you scoffed and kept walking to grab your coat. As much as you wanted some coffee, you were too stubborn to accept Joel's shitty gesture.

The winter sun was blinding against the snow. Or maybe your eyes were just too swollen and dry, too accustomed to staying in the darkness of your bedroom for days on end, but whatever it was caused you to wince and rub your face.

"Hey! You're alive!" you heard Ellie's voice call out from the driveway. She was walking up the path at the exact same time as you with her backpack slung over one shoulder and her winter jacket unzipped.

"Yeah, barely," you replied, wishing you had some of the coffee Joel had left behind. You took the porch steps carefully and met her out on the sidewalk, your pupils finally adjusting to the brightness. "How's it going, kid?"

She opened her mouth to reply but paused, giving you a funny look.

"What's wrong?" you asked, unable to read her expression.

"Nothing, just that nickname... took me by surprise," she laughed with a shake of her head, "you used to call me that before. Haven't heard it in a long time, I guess." You shielded your eyes and shrugged.

"Common nickname, I suppose," you reasoned, and she nodded in agreement.

"How's the back?" she asked with a point, and you almost had to ask her what she was talking about before you remembered your lie.

"Oh! Much better, thanks. Must've pulled a muscle or something, who knows."

"Well, that's good. Listen, I gotta get to school, but do you wanna get dinner later with me and Dina? Seth's making mac and cheese, and it's like, the fucking best, dude," she said excitedly, and you didn't have the heart to say no.

"Yeah, sounds great," you smiled, then gave her a quick wave before heading in the opposite direction towards the infirmary.

It was only a short ten minute walk to work, but the fresh air combined with stretching your muscles for the first time in days really did something to improve your mood. By the time you pushed open the door to the infirmary, you were actually looking forward to working again.

And so was Nick, apparently, because his eyes lit up and his body sagged with relief when he saw you.

"I was a few hours away from sneaking you the good pills and begging you to come back," he joked, then his face turned serious. "Everything alright? What happened?"

"Oh, I'm fine," you said, waving off his concern, "I slipped on some ice and pulled a muscle, it's all good now."

"Well, be careful out there, alright? You're the best aide I have."

"I'm the only aide you have," you corrected him before hanging up your jacket. "What do you need me to do?"

The morning went by fast. Nick had told you in the few days you were out, the clinic wasn't terribly busy, but he unfortunately did fall behind on housekeeping. So you busied yourself running loads of sheets and blankets to the laundry, then sanitizing equipment until Mr. Phillips came in after lunch with a laceration on his arm from working in the stables. It wasn't a bad injury, but it required some cleaning and a few stitches, which you were secretly eager to observe. You wanted to get more exposure to stitching in the hopes of being able to take care of non-emergency injuries by yourself one day.

It felt good to feel useful again. Staying busy forced your mind off Joel and the whole mess waiting for you at home, and you were grateful for the distraction. So much so that you decided to stay a little longer than usual and fold the linens that came back from the laundry. You were killing two birds with one stone: staying busy and avoiding going home in between work and dinner. By now, you knew he'd be back and likely waiting for you, and you still had no idea what you would say.

As the sun began to set and the world outside the infirmary grew darker, you slid your coat back on and locked the door behind you before heading for the dining hall.

Shoving your hands deep into your pockets, you tucked your chin against your chest, feet carrying you swiftly through the streets, eyes cast down and avoiding others as best you could. When you arrived at the dining hall, it was packed, per usual, but you did manage to spot Ellie and Dina holding a small table in the back of the room. As you weaved your way through the crowd, you noticed they were sharing some bread and butter and you felt your stomach rumble. For the first time in days, you felt excited to eat.

"Hey," you said in greeting as you dropped your coat over the back of an empty chair before giving them each a half hug. "Freezing out there."

"Give it a second. It's hotter than hell in here," Dina joked before pushing the basket of bread in your direction. You plopped down into your chair and moaned when you felt the bread was still warm, then tore off little pieces and popped them into your mouth.

"Hungry?" Ellie asked, only partially joking as you nodded vigorously.

"Did you order the mac and cheese yet?"

"Yeah, didn't want him to run out," she replied as she eased back into her chair and turned her head toward Dina. "Do you see Chris and Holly over there? What are they thinking? They know that shit'll get back to Claire. What a bunch of assholes."

"Who?" you asked, your voice muffled around the bread.

"Couple of kids in our class," Dina explained, nodding towards the other side of the hall. You twisted around, your eyes scanning the crowd until you saw a younger couple sitting together, the girl sitting on the guy's lap and toying with his hair. "That's Chris, and he's been dating this girl, Claire, for like, what? Six months or so? And look at him. Letting that hussy crawl all over him. Men are pigs."

You choked on your laughter and took a swig of water. If only they knew.

Ellie's eyes lit up as she looked at something behind you, and you turned around to follow her gaze, spotting Seth as he made his way through the crowd with three plates of mac and cheese. However, just over his left shoulder you happened to notice Joel for the first time since you arrived, but by the looks of it, it was not the first time he noticed you.

He was sitting at his usual table with Tommy and another guy from patrol you vaguely recognized, the other two men engrossed in conversation while Joel pinned you with his stare. You quickly turned away, your cheeks feeling flush, and tried to focus on your dinner.

"Shit, this looks amazing," you said, distracted by the cheesy, piping hot dish set in front of you.

"I'm telling you, man, it's the fucking best," Ellie told you before digging in. You had to stifle a moan when the food hit your tongue for the first time, eternally grateful for the impeccable timing because all you could think about in that moment was how good it tasted, Joel temporarily forgotten for the first time in days.

"Didn't you eat today?" Dina asked, her lips twitching into a grin, and you shook your head.

"Not really. Haven't had much of an appetite this week," you told her, and Ellie tilted her head to the side.

"Your pain was that bad?"

"Huh?" you asked, then it dawned on you once again. The Lie. "Oh, yeah. I mean, I ate a little, I just wanted to sleep, I guess."

"Joel didn't make sure you ate?" she pressed, her eyes flicking over your shoulder. You dropped your fork, scrambling to come up with yet another lie when her brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed, making you twist around to see what made her demeanor change so suddenly.

As you expected, she was looking in Joel's direction, but he was no longer looking at your table. It was impossible considering Angie was standing directly in front of him, blocking his view with her body, her hand resting on the back of his chair.

"What is she up to now?" Dina murmured to Ellie, but you could hardly register her words. The way your anger ignited deep within your chest and licked up your throat, it was a miracle you even remembered to breathe. Joel's legs shifted, knees turned away from her, but that was all you could see. You couldn't see the look on his face or hear what was said. You couldn't see where his hands were. But you could see Angie flick her long, straight hair over her shoulder with a flirty laugh that was clearly meant to pull attention onto her.

If you didn't have tunnel vision, you would have noticed she was successful. A few heads turned, men's eyes lingering on her backside while women's eyes darted in your direction, but you were incapable of processing any of it. Ellie was saying your name, but you couldn't hear her over the ringing in your ears.

It was less than a minute. Thirty seconds, tops, and she walked away from him with a sickly grin plastered across her face, her two friends returning her mischievous smile before flanking her side, making their way towards the exit like a swarm of bees.

Without even thinking, you stood up.

"What are you doing?" Ellie asked, but you ignored her. Instead, you pushed your way through the crowd in a trance, shouldering people out of your way without so much as an apology, too laser focused on your target to care.

"Joel!" Ellie called out to him. He was rubbing his face angrily, trying to avoid his brother's eyes glaring at him in disbelief over what he just overheard Angie say when he heard Ellie. Great, she knows, too, he initially thought, but when he looked up and saw Ellie and Dina, panic-stricken, making their way towards the exit, he realized something was happening. He didn't see you until you emerged from the crowd and reached for the door, swinging it open and allowing a cool blast of air into the room before disappearing outside.

"Oh, shit," Joel mumbled, snatching his coat and forcing his way through all the people as quickly as he could. Tommy followed, confused at first, until he realized you were no longer at your table and then it clicked.

By the time you made it outside, you nearly missed where they went, but luck was on your side because her high-pitched giggle danced through the bitter cold air and you twisted your head to the left, just in time to see the three women in the shadow of night round a corner and head down a residential street.

You were nearly running to catch up with them, but you couldn't feel your feet hit the ground or hear the gravel crunching under your boots. And neither did they, because when you found yourself less than ten feet away, they were still giggling and talking animatedly amongst themselves, completely oblivious to your presence.

Skidding to a stop, you shouted, "Hey!"

All three women swirled around in surprise, their eyes wide and their smiles slipping from their faces when they sensed the rage radiating from your body. But even still, Angie tried to play dumb.

"Can we help you?" she asked sarcastically with a dry laugh, but when you took a step forward, she went quiet.

"Yeah," you sneered, fists clenching at your sides, "I had a question for you, actually."

Angie looked perplexed, not expecting that, so she held her hands out to her side, urging you to continue while Ellie and Dina caught up, standing a few paces back.

"Did you run out of dick to suck in this town or are you just that fucking bored you thought you'd give home wrecking a try?"

Dina snickered behind you and Ellie gasped.

"Home wrecking?" she replied, raising her eyebrow and crossing her arms. "Is that what you'd call your man following me into the ladies room at the bar so he could shove his tongue down my throat?"

Your nostrils flared and your ears began to make that buzzing noise again, so you dug your nails into your palms, desperately trying to ground yourself.

"Can I even call him your man?" she taunted, feeling like she got the upper hand. "Are you even together anymore? You clearly don't fuck him if he was looking for it from-"

You couldn't even remember moving. Your feet had a mind of their own as you closed the distance between you with two long strides and swung your arm back with as much force as you could muster, backhanding Angie right across the mouth.

Her hands flew up to her face and her two friends stumbled backwards in surprise, but all you saw was red. Before she could recover, you grabbed her by the coat and threw her down onto the muddy street, knocking the wind out of her with a sharp gasp. Quickly, before she could get up, you straddled her midsection. With your left hand pressing down on her chest and your right balled into a fist near your head, you landed a punch right on her perfect little nose with a sickening crunch, causing a trail of blood to trickle out of her nostrils seconds later. But that didn't stop you. You kept going, your knuckles, now bloody, marring her flesh over and over again, but when you made contact with her jawbone, you flinched, a jolt of pain shooting down your middle finger making you pause.

That was when Angie saw her opportunity.

She vaulted you off her with her hips and she rolled to her side, pinning you to the ground with blood dripping down her face. She scratched desperately at your eyes and mouth, your hands coming up to protect yourself with a yelp, before she began landing weak punches against your cheek and mouth. And even though they weren't as forceful as your hits, her weight pinning you down kept you from reclaiming the upper hand.

Ellie and Dina were shouting your name, but you tuned them out. All you could focus on was Angie, blocking her punches as best you could while you waited for your opportunity to take her down.

Then, Angie's hand wrapped around your throat, her fingers pressing into your windpipe. Your hands grabbed her wrist as you fought for air and violently thrashed underneath her.

"Face it," she hissed, leaning down and putting more pressure against your throat, "If it was that easy, I was doing you a favor. He never really loved you, you were just an easy fuck before your brain got all scrambled."

Her words were exactly what you needed to get your second wind.

With an angry roar, you punched her right in the throat, and although you couldn't get much force behind it, it was enough to make her loosen her grip in surprise. And just as Tommy and Joel were running up the street, you tossed Angie to the side and scrambled back on top of her. But this time, you didn't stop.

You were merciless, your hands were a blur. Fists rained down blows upon her face while she desperately tried to shield herself, but it was no use.

"Stop!" she sobbed, begging, but the fear in her voice just egged you on.

Blood began to stain her yellow hair, her perfect skin began to turn red and purple while your fists never stopped, each blow creating a new mark or cut. You couldn't stop if you tried. Something snapped and you unlocked a part of yourself you didn't know, or didn't remember, existed. Some part of you that was a warrior. A fighter. A survivor. And it wasn't until Joel hooked his arms underneath yours and hauled you back that you finally stopped, your chest heaving and your eyes wild.

"Y-you crazy b-bitch!" Angie sputtered, blood trickling from her nose and mouth as Tommy knelt in front of her.

"You haven't seen crazy!" you screamed as you kicked and struggled to get out of Joel's grip. Tommy reached down to help Angie up and he motioned for her friends to come forward. "Stay the fuck away from us or I'll fucking kill you!" you shouted, "You hear me, you fucking whore? I will fucking kill you!"

"Calm down!" Joel yelled from behind, but your blood boiled as you focused your rage on him.

"Get your fucking hands off me," you snarled, wrenching your arms out of his grasp. "This is your fault!" you continued, pointing your finger in his face and backing away, ignoring the tortured look he gave you. A sick part of you was pleased to see the sting of your words land.

"I think she needs to see Nick," Tommy said as both of Angie's friends struggled to help her up.

"She's lucky she's alive," you snapped as you wiped the back of your hand over your bloody face.

"Holy shit, dude," Ellie murmured as you turned around, her eyes all wide with shock.

"I'm going home," you grumbled, wiping more blood from your cheek as you began the journey back to your house on shaky legs, wondering how on earth you were expected to share a space with Joel after tonight. Dina and Ellie exchanged some quick words as you left before Ellie quickly caught up with you.

"I'll clean you up."

"You don't-"

"I know. But I want to," she said, wrapping her arm around your shoulder, and it took everything in you not to lean into her and let her drag you home.

You were exhausted. Mentally and physically. And you just wanted to go to bed. But you were grateful for Ellie. Someone who cared, someone who saw you were hurting and needed help without having to ask for it. So you let her clean you up in your bathroom when you arrived back home, her nimble fingers delicately pressing against your wounds, cleansing them as best she could before pressing band aids and butterfly bandages against your cuts and then making you an ice pack to help with the swelling.

She tucked you into bed and made you drink some water before sitting down on the edge of your mattress with a sigh.

"I had no idea," she began, and you quickly waved her off.

"I know. It's... I know," you said, at a loss for words.

"You didn't really hurt your back, did you?" she asked, and you slowly shook your head. "That motherfucker," she seethed, "I can't believe him, I'm going to kill him, I swear-"

"Just leave him alone," you told her, "Let me handle it."

The two of you sat quietly for a moment, each of you lost in your own thoughts before she spoke again.

"It wasn't like that before," she began, and at first you weren't following, but then you realized: she was talking about before your accident. "You were crazy about each other. Angie was never an issue. Neither of you paid her any attention. She just saw an opportunity and took advantage," Ellie said as her fingers tangled in her lap. "I shouldn't even be saying this, it feels like I'm defending him, but I swear. I was with you guys all the time. You were in love, man."

"Things changed, I guess," you said sadly, but she shook her head.

"You guys are what inspired me and Dina to go for it," she said softly, avoiding your gaze. "We were scared, but I saw how you two were together and how you made it work and, I don't know," she said, picking at her fingernail, "I guess what I'm trying to say is, I look up to you guys. And it's kind of fucking with my head right now that all this is happening."

"Ellie, no," you said, shifting a bit in bed and reaching out to her. "Don't say that. Don't question what you and Dina have because of me and Joel."

She swallowed and looked at you, her eyes soft and worried.

"Why did he do it?" she asked quietly, and you could hear the pain in her voice. Pressing your lips together, you shrugged.

"It's complicated."

She nodded and looked away. "Will you do me a favor?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Would you give him a chance? Just hear him out and let him explain?" she begged, and you immediately bristled. "You don't have to forgive him. Just... don't give up yet. Please. He loves you, I know it, and... and I think you love him, too."

You scoffed then cleared your throat, your fingers coming up to press gently on your tender neck. "I don't love him," you croaked, but she shook her head.

"If you don't love him then why do you care so much?" she countered, and you fell silent, unable to give her an answer, eyes drifting aimlessly around the room. "Why did you almost kill Angie for sleeping with him if you didn't love him?"

"Sleeping with - no, Ellie. They didn't have sex. He kissed her," you quickly explained, and her eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"You rearranged her face because he kissed her?" she asked in disbelief, then laughed softly and stood up. "I'm not saying he didn't fuck up, but dude. Come on. You gotta see it, now, right?"

You took a deep breath and rubbed your eyes.

"Alright. For you, I'll... talk to him, or whatever," you grumbled half-heartedly.

"Thank you," she said, her voice sounding more like herself once again before turning to leave and allowing you to rest. If you had any inkling she was trying to manipulate you into forgiving Joel, it was quickly expunged because you awoke an hour later to her arguing with him in the living room when he arrived home, the conversation ending with her storming out of the house and then his weary footsteps slowly climbing up the stairs.

Once again, you watched as he paused outside your room, two narrow shadows cast by his legs breaking up the thin beam of light under your door until he thought better of it and kept walking, his own bedroom door closing softly with a click.

The pain was worse the next morning, but you refused to admit it. The cuts burned and the bruises throbbed, but you were too stubborn to let any weakness show, although one look at your bruised neck would tell anyone the truth. You forced yourself out of bed, feeling too guilty to bail on Nick after already taking so many days off to wallow in your own misery, and washed up before heading downstairs. Much to your surprise, Joel was sitting at the kitchen table, his big hand cupping a mug of coffee while he stared blankly at the wall, lost in his own thoughts. When you first saw his face, the bags under his eyes evident, even from across the room, it was clear he hardly got any sleep.

Good, you thought. Then you remembered your promise to Ellie and bit back whatever nasty remark you were getting ready to toss his way. Instead, you dragged yourself to the coffee maker, ignoring the mug Joel left out for you and choosing your own, unable to resist the urge to be just a little bit spiteful.

He cleared his throat as you poured your coffee, a warning he was about to speak, and your shoulders tensed.

"How're you feelin'?"

"About as good as I look," you muttered, bringing the coffee to your lips and taking a tiny sip before turning around. He looked up at you, for the first time seeing the extent of your injuries and he jolted forward in his chair, fighting back the instinct to stand up and inspect your wounds. He blinked rapidly, gaze skirting over your face and neck, worry etching his features until you sighed.

"It's not really that bad," you admitted, looking down at your feet.

"Tell Nick t'give you somethin' when you get to work," he said, voice strained. You nodded and took another sip of your coffee. He swallowed nervously before inching forward in his chair and clasping his hands between his knees. "I'm sorry," he said, the words laced with guilt and shame. "I'm so sorry, I fucked up. But you gotta believe me, I didn't go out that night lookin' for her or anyone else. I just wanted to drink and be alone for a little while." He rubbed his palms over his face while you still stared down at the floor, listening.

"I believe you," you finally said after a tense stretch of silence. He dropped his hands and looked up.

"You do?"

"Doesn't mean I forgive you, but I believe you didn't run out of here looking to shove your tongue down someone else's throat."

He grimaced and dropped his chin to his chest.

"D'you think-" he cut himself off and took a deep breath before forcing himself to look at you again. "D'you think you could ever forgive me?"

You closed your eyes and pressed your lips into a thin line.

"I don't know," you said quietly. Your head was pounding, so you rubbed your forehead, his eyes trained on you anxiously from across the room, knee bouncing slightly as he waited to hear you say anything that would give him a glimmer of hope. "You really fucking hurt me, Joel," you said, trying to hide your lower lip as it trembled, but he heard the pain in your voice and it broke his heart.

"I know, I'm an asshole and I don't deserve you. I never did. Not after what happened at the hospital and definitely not now," he said, standing up and taking a few hesitant steps in your direction, stopping when he reached the kitchen island. "But I'll do whatever it takes. I'll wait as long as I need to, I'll spend the rest of my life makin' it up to you, prove to you that-"

"I don't want to lead you on, Joel," you said solemnly, eyes watering. "I can't promise I'll ever move past it. I'm not sure we're strong enough to get through this."

"Yes, we are," he told you adamantly, "I don't want anyone else. I only want you. You ain't leadin' me on because I don't wanna go anywhere else. I don't care what that looks like in the future, I'll take whatever you give me, that's all I want."

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the wobble in his voice, and looked into the living room, the framed photo of your house that Ellie drew for you several Christmases ago, the same one you read about in your journal, catching your eye, and you felt yourself tear up.

I just want to go home, you thought, but home no longer existed. This was your home, like it or not.

You turned away, looking out the window over the sink blinking back tears, but Joel had already followed your gaze to the photo.

"I should get going," you said, voice thick. You chugged whatever coffee you could and dumped the rest in the sink.

"I'm gonna make it up to you," he said, following you to the door, "I'm gonna make this right." You scoffed.

"Yeah, okay," you mumbled sarcastically, shoving on your boots and coat before swinging open the door and heading out into the frigid winter morning, big flakes of snow slowly swirling and falling from the sky as Joel watched you trudge down the street, hunched over and curled in on yourself. A shell of the person he knew you to be.

He did that. He caused you pain. And it made him sick.

But at least he finally thought of a way he could prove how much you meant to him.

Sweat covered your forehead by the time you made it to the infirmary, your wool knit cap to blame for the excessive heat pouring from your head while your face was ice cold. You yanked it off your head and shed your coat before making your way to the back, your hair sticking to your forehead. Nick was nowhere to be found, but one of the exam room doors was closed and you heard voices murmuring on the other side. Assuming he had an early patient, you pulled your hair back and got to work. It was supposed to be a quiet day. Nick wanted you to work on an updated inventory list after getting a big batch of supplies two weeks prior from an unexplored hole-in-the-wall pharmacy.

The exam room door swung open, the voices clearer now, and your shoulders stiffened when you recognized the patient. You should have assumed Angie would be there that day, but for some reason it hadn't occurred to you.

Your anger had diffused a bit since the night before, that raw, exposed nerve quelled by time, but that didn't stop you from glaring at her as she passed by the inventory closet. Her swollen eyes widened with fear when she saw you and for the first time, you got a good look at the damage you inflicted. Her nose was clearly broken, she was missing a tooth and both eyes were black and blue, but the cuts on her cheeks and lips were superficial, at best.

She kept walking, not daring to say a word in your direction as your eyes followed her out the door. When she left, Nick turned around with a sigh and crossed his arms.

"How're you feeling?"

You shrugged and turned back to your clipboard. "I'm alright."

"You look like shit," he said, sidling up next to you and plucking the ibuprofen from the shelf. He tapped out two pills and dropped them into your palm before closing the bottle, putting it back where it belonged. "Did you eat?"

With just a shake of your head you popped the pills, swallowing them dry before turning back to your task.

"You gotta eat something with those, it'll tear up your stomach," he said, disappearing down the hallway and coming back a few minutes later with an apple. You grimaced but took it anyway, unable to stop your mind from replaying the memory of peeling apples with Joel just a week prior. Before everything went to hell.

Nick watched you quietly for a moment as you chewed your apple slowly and read down the list of medications on your clipboard.

"Do you, uh," he began, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, "do you need someone to talk to?" You glanced up at him in surprise and he dropped his hand back to his side. "We don't have to talk about it. But I know you still feel like you're a stranger in this town, and that's gotta be tough." He scratched his greying chin as he glanced around the room and you had to fight back the laugh that bubbled up your throat. You couldn't help it.

He noticed the amused look on your face at his discomfort and pretended to be annoyed when he muttered, "just come find me if you wanna talk or whatever," but you knew it was just an act. Nick was typically a quiet man, kept to himself and hardly ever spoke to his patients, let alone you, his employee, about personal matters. The fact he was trying now must mean he really thought you needed it.

The older man disappeared down the hall to his office and you smiled to yourself, then focused back on work, grateful for something that took your mind off your misery, even if it was just for a moment.

"What the hell do you want?" Tommy scowled when he flung open his door to find his older brother waiting on the other side, hands shoved deep in his pockets, weight shifting foot to foot in an effort to keep warm.

"C'mon, Tommy, I'm gettin' it from all angles, here."

"I don't give a shit," he spat, turning on his heel to retreat back into the house, but left the front door open. Joel took a step inside and quietly shut the door behind him, glancing around the entryway and peering into the living room as he took off his outerwear.

"Maria home?"

"No, she's down at the stables with Violet. Showin' her the horses, gettin' her outta the house," he grumbled, angrily putting away dishes as he spoke. Joel sighed and flattened his palms against the counter.

"I gotta ask for a favor."

Tommy scoffed and shook his head. "You're a piece of work, y'know that?"

"Yeah, I fuckin' know. Jesus Christ, Tommy, I made one goddamn mistake!" Joel yelled, slapping his hand against the cool countertop. Tommy twisted around, brow furrowed, and crossed his arms.

"Don't take an attitude with me," Tommy said through clenched teeth, "I don't give a shit if everyone's gangin' up on you. You deserve it! I thought she was the one you wanted to spend your life with? The one you'd do anythin' for?"

"She is!" Joel exclaimed, raking his fingers through his hair. Tommy's eyes softened while he watched his brother struggle, the enormity of what he did clearly taking its toll.

"Then what the fuck were you thinkin'?" he asked after a few moments, tone pleading. "Everythin' was goin' so well. You guys were havin' a nice time at the party, laughin' and smilin', we all saw it. Then you take 'er home and step out like that?"

"It's not- I was drunk and misread some things," Joel replied, rubbing his eyes with the pads of his fingers. "I tried to kiss her, she shot me down and I didn't take it all that well, alright?" Joel dropped his hand, exasperated, and looked at Tommy once again, taking a deep breath. "Went to the bar to drink and Angie sunk her claws into me. I got the hell outta there and confessed the second I got home but... didn't matter," he said, hanging his head between his shoulders.

"Angie said you followed her into the bathroom, Joel. Don't bullshit me, I was sittin' right there."

"I know, Jesus, it's my fault. I was drinkin' and upset and she was just... there. Pesterin' me and pushin' my buttons. It was only a second, Tommy. Nothin' else happened, y'hear me?" Joel's eyes were wide and desperate as he stared at his little brother across the kitchen.

"It's no excuse, Joel," Tommy said sadly. Joel pushed off the counter with a huff and yanked angrily at his disheveled hair again.

"I know that. I'm just tellin' you how it went down. But I gotta make it up to her. I gotta make it right."

"How the hell do you plan on doin' that? 'Cause from where I'm sittin', only way she could move past it is if I take her back out into the woods so she can hit her head again and forget," Tommy said.

Joel rolled his eyes and slumped into a chair at the kitchen table.

"I got an idea. Don't know if it'll work, but it's all I can think of to prove what she means to me," he said softly, staring down at his fingers twisting together in his lap.

Tommy sized his brother up and down before taking a few steps closer, his hands coming to grip the back of a chair as he leaned forward.

"Let's hear it."

Joel sighed and tilted his chin up. "I need a week off from patrol. I gotta leave Jackson. And I need a horse."

"What?" Tommy asked incredulously. "In the middle of winter? Absolutely not. You'll die out there."

"I survived out there before I came to Jackson, I'll be fine."

"Been a long fuckin' time and you weren't alone when you did it," Tommy argued.

"You offerin' to help?" Joel asked, and Tommy laughed dryly. But Joel continued to stare at him.

"You're serious, aren't you?"

"'Course I am," Joel replied, "she ain't ever gonna forgive me but I gotta do somethin', Tommy. I can't lose her, and right now, it really feels like I'm gonna lose her." Joel's voice cracked and he turned away, looking out the window so Tommy couldn't see the emotion behind his eyes.

Tommy groaned and yanked a chair out to sit down.

"What'dya need me to do?"

It was a long day on your feet and your face hurt more than you cared to admit, so by the time you arrived home, you decided to make yourself a sandwich and go to bed early, skipping an appearance at the dining hall where you knew half the town would be gawking at you and your wounds, anyway.

Fortunately, Joel was up in his room with the door closed when you quietly snuck upstairs with your sandwich. You were still emotionally exhausted from your brief conversation that morning and you were grateful he wasn't looking to have another one.

Nick had sent you home with one of the good pills, as he called it, so you took it with your meal and within the hour, you were out cold. Maybe if you hadn't taken the pill, you would have been awake to hear Joel's bedroom door squeak open, the rustling of fabric and the tinkling of metal cutting through the quiet hallway as he gripped his sleeping bag in one hand and his backpack stuffed with supplies in the other.

Like he usually did, he paused outside your room, his eyes lingering on the doorknob, ears straining for any sign that you were awake, that maybe you had a change of heart and he could call the whole trip off, but he was only met with silence.

He swallowed and turned towards the stairs, quietly tiptoeing down and packed another bag with food from the pantry before setting all three items by the door. At the last minute, he decided to leave a note, not even certain you would notice or care he was gone, but he knew Tommy would be furious when he found out he lied to him earlier and he really didn't want his brother to waste manpower trying to hunt him down in the wilderness. So he grabbed a pen from a drawer and an old envelope. The tip of his pen hovered over the paper as he struggled with what to say, then finally decided to keep it brief before scribbling his note, leaving it by the coffee maker where he knew you would see it.

Lastly, he strode into the living room and grabbed one more thing, shoving it into his backpack before piling on his layers and heading out the front door, giving the house one last forlorn glance before slipping quietly into the night.

It was your day off, so naturally you allowed yourself to sleep in a little, hoping that the extra rest would help your bruises to heal. At the very least, you were pleased to discover the pain around your throat was significantly better than the day before.

You didn't hear Joel when you got up, but that was typical. He usually had early morning patrol shifts and was back by the afternoon, but when you came downstairs and saw the coffee wasn't made like it normally was, you froze. Your eyes drifted around, noticing his coat and boots were missing.

Maybe he was running behind and just didn't have time to make coffee.

As unusual as that might be, it was the only logical conclusion until you walked over to the coffee maker and saw an aged envelope sticking out of your favorite mug. You frowned and picked it up, eyes quickly scanning the words once, then three more times before the panic set in, your stomach churning worse and worse each time.

Tell Tommy I'll be back in a week.

He knows why.

No matter what, just know I love you with my whole heart, in this world or the next.

Joel

Boots unlaced and coat unzipped, you raced down the street towards Tommy's house, the envelope gripped tightly in your fist.

What the hell did that mean? Where did he go? What is he doing? And why did he sneak out without telling Tommy?

You banged on the door, the wood rattling violently under your clenched fist, only afterwards realizing you could have been waking their daughter but fortunately when the door opened, you saw Violet and Maria playing in the living room over Tommy's shoulder.

"What's goin' on, sugar? You okay?" he asked, voice filled with concern when he saw the look on your face.

"Joel's gone," you said hurriedly before pushing past him and entering the house, yanking off your hat and exchanging glances with Maria from across the room.

"Gone? What'dya mean, gone?"

"I mean I woke up today and he was gone, Tommy!" you exclaimed, handing him the note. "Where did he go?!"

You were aware your voice was panicky, that your eyes were wide with fear and your breath was fast and shallow, but you didn't care how it looked to them in that moment.

Tommy scanned the note and sighed, rubbing his forehead before urging you to join him in the living room, where he collapsed onto the sofa.

"That idiot," he murmured under his breath, handing you back the envelope.

"Where is he, Tommy?" you tried again, hoping to sound less frantic this time.

He glanced at Maria before meeting your gaze.

"He was here yesterday afternoon. Told me he needed a favor. Said he needed a week off from patrol and a horse."

"To do what?" you pressed, sinking down into an armchair next to the couch.

"He said-" he cut himself off and looked down at the note in your hand, ticking his jaw to the side as if he was contemplating how much to tell you.

"Spit it out," you demanded, and his eyes snapped back up to you.

"Said he had a plan to make things up to you. For, y'know," he waved his hand in the air, not wanting to say it. You shook your head.

"What was his plan?"

"He wouldn't tell me everything but I offered to help," Tommy admitted, glancing guiltily at Maria who shot him a surprised glare. "Said he needed to go to California, that he wanted to bring a piece of you back. I'm guessin' you're from out that way?" Tommy asked, and you nodded slowly. "He said he would wait 'til I talked to Maria and worked out the schedule but I guess he decided to fuck off-"

"Tommy!" Maria scolded sharply, covering Violet's ears, and Tommy cringed.

"Sorry," he said softly before turning back to you. "Guess he decided to lone-wolf it."

Your eyes drifted back to the note in your hand, swallowing the lump in your throat while your mind raced to catch up.

"What if he doesn't make it?" you asked, eyes still glued to the envelope, "what if he dies out there and it's all my fault?"

They heard your voice waver and exchanged sympathetic looks.

"He made a choice, he knew the risks," Maria said, "but he's a capable guy. If there were anybody who could make it out there alone, it's Joel."

"Listen, I'd send a couple guys out there lookin' for him but there's a storm brewin'," Tommy said, rubbing his chin and glancing out the window. "Been watchin' those clouds build up over the mountains all week. Told Joel as much and he agreed to wait but reckon he changed his mind and wanted to get in front of it."

"Or it was his plan all along to leave alone and he just made sure no one would come after him," Maria said, making the three of you fall quiet.

"God, what do I do?" you murmured, burying your face in your hands.

Tommy glanced at Maria and she subtly nodded towards the kitchen. He stood and cleared his throat before reaching his arms out towards his daughter.

"C'mere, let's get you somethin' to eat before naptime," he said, lifting Violet and taking her into the kitchen to give you both some privacy.

"What's going on?" Maria asked softly as she sat down in Tommy's place on the couch. You sighed and dropped your hands to your lap.

"I don't know," you said truthfully, "I'm so fucking angry at him, but..."

Maria pursed her lips knowingly. "But you still care."

You groaned and leaned back into the chair. "Yes."

"It's not like you're telling me or anyone else something we didn't already know," she said, "not after what happened with you and Angie in the middle of the street. I mean, look at you," she pointed to your bruised neck. "No one fights like that for someone they don't love."

"I don't love him," you said sternly, eyes flashing angrily in her direction. "You sound like Ellie."

"Okay, so if two people are telling you-"

"I don't want to talk about it right now," you abruptly stood up, brushing your palms on your jeans. "Sorry to barge in like this. I'm sure he'll be fine. I'm actually looking forward to a week of quiet," you tried to say confidently despite how tight your throat felt as you headed towards the door.

Maria called your name as she trailed after you, urging you to stay and talk, but you just pressed your lips together and shook your head.

"Seriously, I'm fine," you said, forcing a smile across your face. "I have some stuff to do so I'll see you guys at dinner or something."

Before she or Tommy could say anything else, you slipped out the door and rushed down the street, back towards home.

It wasn't until later that afternoon, after you had scrubbed clean the kitchen and bathrooms, doing anything and everything you could to stay busy, that you noticed the missing picture from the wall in the living room.

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#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel the last of us #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #the last of us game #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #ikwya fic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou

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gojoroui · 2 months

Text

໒꒱ ‧₊˚ FELINE FIGHT — BLADE

content. fluff, you guys have a pet cat, cat relatively looks like blade — based on a twitter post, gn! reader, jealousy, not proofread!

note. i actually need to catch up on honkai star rail and genshin 😓 probably not how i wanted it to come out , but at least i’m posting 😀

“blade! what are you doing!?”

your black cat’s limbs dangled from where blade held it by the neck. they were having a staring contest.

this was common to happen.

whenever you told blade you would leave to run some errands for only an hour or two, there was always trouble when you came back. specifically caused by the two trouble makers — your cat and blade.

“i’m not doing anything.”

blade blankly eyed the cat — the cat he despised. the cat that stole his spot — in your arms. every night was him sleeping on the other side of the bed, just to give space to the black cat.

he couldn’t remember how many times he felt the urge to grab the cat and throw it out the window. but unfortunately, you denied that from happening.

“what do you mean you’re not doing anything!?” you stomped your way towards blade, “you’re holding the cat by the neck!”

blade grumbled. “so?”

“don’t do that!” you managed to get the cat before blade moved his arms higher from your reach. “it done nothing to you!”

rolling his eyes, blade made his towards the couch — putting arms around his head.

you scowled as you set the cat on the ground, “are you okay?”

the cat meowed profusely and rubbed it’s head against your leg. you pat its’s head before making your way to the bedroom — leaving the cat a few steps away from blade.

let’s hope nothing happens.

you just finished your bath and decided to check on blade and your cat — since your heard some meowing.

“bladie, what are doin-“

crash!

books flew down from their shelves and cat scratches were visible on the couch. hissing and high pitched meowing was heard as your cat was, again — dangling from blade’s hold.

“you little-“

“what happened?” you exclaimed.

blade dropped the cat on the couch — which it landed perfectly. silence filled air as blade avoided eye contact.

you seriously couldn’t get how much trouble the two could get while you were away — just for 10 minutes.

you crossed your arms and raised an eyebrow, “care to explain?”

“it was the cat.” blade said, blankly. “it scratched me, look.”

blade moved his bangs back to show the scratch marks — and oh and behold, there were cat scratches.

you swore your mouth dropped to the ground — you never thought your innocent cat could do such a thing.

“are you ok!?” you exclaimed — making your way to the first-aid kit.

dragging blade to a chair, you carefully dabbed some alcohol to his eye. muttering ‘sorry’’s and ‘my bad’’s whenever he hissed from pain.

you lightly add some ointment before asking, “what happed when i was gone?”

your cat walked up and purred against your thigh — acting innocent and pure.

blade didn’t answer your question and just muttered something that didn’t seem necessary for the situation.

sighing for nth time, you got up and picked up the cat. bringing it to it’s original bed that was at the opposite end of the room.

“you’re gonna be sleeping here tonight, okay? no trouble.”

the cat meowed and pawed your knee. you gave it a couple pats before walking over to blade.

smiling, you dragged blade into the bedroom.

“let’s cuddle now, you need rest for your eyes anyway.”

blade smirked.

oh how he loved karma.

but he’s gonna be the one to buy a new couch.

#. ࿓ : txt!#honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x y/n #hsr x reader #hsr x y/n #hsr x you #blade x reader #blade x you #blade x y/n #honkai star rail fluff #honkai star rail imagines #hsr fluff #hsr imagines #blade fluff #blade imagines

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bitterchocoo · 2 months

Note

Hey ! I wanted to ask for a Caelus (if you write for him) x male reader. The reader is like Alastor from Hazbin Hotel (or Medicine Pocket of Reverse 1999 if you didn't watch Hazbin Hotel/not comfortable with it).

Just some general headcanon about how they would be together.

Ignore it if you don't want to write it !!

Have a good day/night.

Caelus General Headcanon

Caelus | M. Reader as Alastor [Hazbin Hotel]

----------

"Salutations! Good to be back on the air!"

----------

First of all, the whole Astral Express will be telling him to stay away from this guy called, the Radio Demon.

They told him stories, tales, legends, all in efforts of trying to keep their newest member away from such a powerful being. One they shouldn't anger.

He kept that in mind of course, but somehow when he met you face to face he didn't even think that you're the one he's been warned about. You're just so.. friendly. With that constant smile and old time-y humor.

Penacony is an interesting place after all, so perhaps this deer-like man isn't that bad. You seem friendly enough. Plus, he wanted to have friends in this new place.

The moment he found out who you truly are, he was skeptical and felt a little betrayed. Someone he thought he could trust is... actually the last person you should ever trust.. He cut all communication after that, he just needs.. a little space.. some time to think through all of that..

Over the course of a few days, maybe even weeks. You two became acquainted once more. Long-story-short, you two started dating! Knowing how the others might react, you two kept it a secret.

How did you two meet? At The Reverie. You were walking through the corridors until some guy ran into you. How brash.. You were about to give him a piece of your mind. I mean—who in the universe has the audacity to do that to you? The Radio Demon. That is until.. you saw how pitiful he looked. Like a kicked puppy. So you decided to show mercy and leave the poor guy alone.

The second time you guys meet will be at the Dreamscape, more specifically the Golden Hour. He saw you walked out of the tailor and decided to approach you, apologizing for crashing into you and offered to treat you to some Penacony's delicacies as an apology.

Being the "kind person" you are, you accept his apology. This little apology is practically your first date.

He loves your radio voice, it has a certain appeal to it. He could listen to it all day. Even if he doesn't understand what you're saying, he will still listen just because he loves your voice.

If you tell him you have a radio program, he would listen to it all day just so he could hear your voice.

You became overprotective of the Trailblazer and so.. you sent one of your shadows to follow him. Doesn't matter what star system he's in, you'll make sure your shadow follows him and ensure your beloved's safety.

This unintentionally became a whole running joke amongst the Nameless, because no matter how many trash cans he digs through, how many times he goes through danger headfirst, how much he would do things out of impulse. Caelus never get sick nor injured. If only they knew..

Anyone who dares touch you will face the consequences, but anyone who dares touch Caelus will meet their maker.

You would sometimes send gifts with your shadows or in some rare occasion, you'll teleport to where the shadow was just to spend some time with your handsome boyfriend.

But whenever Caelus wanted to introduce you to anyone, you immediately disappeared without a trace. Where did you go?

The reveal of your relationship is filled with surprise and dismay from everyone. Caelus? Dating the Radio Demon? Did they hear that right? The Radio Demon?!

The first few weeks, maybe even months after the reveal they're still worried about Caelus. This is you after all! The Radio Demon! Why should they let their guard down around someone like you?! You could kill all of them in an instant! Especially with that smile of yours.. that uncanny smile that seems to be permanently plastered on your face...

But as time passes by, they see how you treat your beloved boyfriend and maybe.. just maybe.. you're not as bad as they originally thought..?

Will beg you to lend him your staff. He will also beg you to let him touch your ear/hair (?)

He will be your anchor, the one who will keep you grounded to reality and not go full demon mode on anyone. As much as he finds it hot whenever his boyfriend uses his powers to their fullest potential, he doesn't want anyone getting injured or dying.

He would spend a long time at the Data Bank just to learn about old history to impress you and would definitely try learning old slangs too.

He would 100% learn how to waltz just so that he could waltz with you at the Parlor Car. The phonograph plays slow music as the two of you dance along with the vast starie galaxy.

You're a demon, yes, but you're still an old soul. So he figures you would like these stuff more than let's say... Aetherium Wars. So he's going to try his best to learn these old time-y things just for you!

#x male reader #seme male reader #top male reader #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x male reader #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr x male reader #hsr caelus #caelus x reader #caelus x male reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #x reader

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pokedawriter · 2 months

Text

Nymph!Reader x Sumeru!Men

Gn!reader, you're a nymph

How would the sumeru men react to finding you and your grotto

I still have no idea what I'm doing

I've never written for Cyno, Alhaitem or Scara so forgive me if something is out of character

Cyno

He's patrolling the desert. There have been lots of cave-ins in the area recently and he wants to figure out if there is a specific cause that he can solve or if he should just warn people about the area

As he walks, he feels the sand beneath his feet begin to fall and he tries to jump away but it's too sudden and he falls

He braces for impact but lands into a net of vines that gently lower him to the ground

Your standing next to him, arm extended with the sunlight on your back, looking gorgeous and radiant, then you speak

"I can't be-leaf someone fell into here. Water you doing here?"

Archons, he might have fallen in love with you at that moment

He asks you about the recent cave in and you tell him it the Wenut mating season, and they're all trying to make burrows for their young. An inexperienced male has been digging here but didn't dig deep enough, which is why there are so many cave-ins. You tell him to just wait a month or two for the season to end

The hole is fairly deep and so you build him a ladder out of vines and he promises to return

After reporting what happened with the cave-ins, he returns and finds you've been repairing your grotto in the mean time, removing the dirt and stones that fell

You're very excited to see him and take him deeper into your grotto, further underground

It's beautiful, with purple, white and yellow flowers illuminating the area. Glowing stones are scattered in the ceiling like stars

He makes a regular habit to visit you and introduces you to Tighnari pretty soon (but he doesn't visit much due to his incompatibility with the heat). You all like to have Genius Innovation TCG together (Cyno teaches you and gives you cards)

He finds himself falling asleep in your grotto, surrounded by the glowing flowers and flowing water

He has to stop visiting for a few months due to work, but tries to wrap it up as fast can to see you

When be returns, he finds your grotto has been severely damaged, much of the flora dying. He searches high and low for you, going to the deepest part of the grotto where rocks fall away and reveal a very weakened you

You tell him people found out about your grotto and stole as many of your rare plants as they could, weakening you greatly and you had to hide yourself and your remaining plants away

He's furious and immediately takes action

He works with Tighnari and Lesser Lord Kusanali to make you and your grotto a protected space

And though he can't punish the researchers for over-foraging (since you and your grotto weren't legally protected), he does let other researchers know of their actions, resulting in those researchers being shunned

He helps you and your grotto return to full health and always tries to visit once a week to 'keep away any trouble makers" (but he just wants to visit you)

You both often fall asleep together in the deepest part of the grotto, happy in each other's presence

Alhaithem

He was looking through the old archives. The scrolls and books here were no longer scientifically accurate, but were kept for record purposes

He's found an old book about mythical creatures of Sumeru: Aranara, Nymphs, Djinn, Rocs, and more. He decided to rent it out and give it a read

Reading it at his house wasn't an option as it would be too loud (Kaveh, whom he didnt feel like dealing with today), the Academia students and researchers were always bothering him if he was around (especially after the 'hero' title), so he decided to leave the city for a bit.

As he walked, he found a small cave and decided to read there

Inside was larger than he expected, with a small moss-covered shrine and little yellow flowers. He sat on one of the rocks to read

It was wonderfully calm and quiet. The right temperature, the trickle of water from a nearby stream, the rustle of the leaves... it was all perfect

So, he came back here again and again, reading his books late into the evenings

He was in the middle of his mythical creatures book, on Nymphs, when he felt a presence and immediately looked for it

You sat on the shrine, staring at him, head tilted in wonder

He looked between his book and its description of Nymphs and you... and it seems he found a mythical creature. Regardless, he continued to read and you continued to watch him

Eventually, he turned to you and asked why you were just staring at him, to which you shrugged and said "If a man were to walk in your yard everyday and read, doing nothing else at all, wouldn't you grow curious?"

He was mostly surprised by the fact you could respond. The book said that Nymph's were shy creatures who couldn't talk

But to you, this man had been a regular visitor to your grotto for months now. His scent was just part of your grotto, like the duskbirds and rishboland tigers. He wasn't a stranger at all

Alhaithem decided to ask you a few questions about Nymphs which you agreeably answered, even showing in the deeper parts of the grotto that he hadn't noticed were there

You both fell into a comfortable routine of him visiting you on his days off to read in comfortable silence while you worked on your grotto

Despite being able to talk in every language he could, he realized you couldn't read at all

He helped you learn how to read and you helped him relax and have the perfect reading spot

You became reading buddies, and even though you would ask him with question on words, it never bothered or annoyed him

He subtly made your grotto a legally protected area so if anyone messed with it, they would have to pay

You were his safe space, and in return, he would protect you too

Scara/Wanderer

Nahida asked him to go outside and touch grass more

Just kidding, she asked him to find a rare flower, only ever found underground in rare Nymph Gardens

She gave him a rough idea where he might be able to find it and off he went, grumbling the whole way

Finding the entrance to the cave wasn't hard. All he had to do then was follow the smell of fresh flowers. It was so simple for him (and most certainly didn't take him several days)

When he finally found your grotto, he couldn't find the flower Nahida had described for him and grumbled under his breath about it

This is where you come in: appearing next to his shoulder asking about what flower he was exactly talking about

You stare at him innocently even as he hold a swirl ball of anemo energy

You ask again and he asks who you are, cautious

"I'm the nymph of this grotto"

That can't be possible, Nymphs aren't real, surely you're pulling his leg

But you have flowers growing on you, the plants lean towards where you step and life seems to exude from you

He'll dispell his anemo attack and tell you about the flower. You nod and scoop it up a bit of dirt and grow the flower on it

He's wondering if there's a cost to it. You tell him it'll hurt you when he leaves with it. He asks what he owes you and you shrug and walk away to play with the springyness of a new fern

He brings the flower to Nahida then rushes back. Not because he's worried! He's just curious about the affects of removing the flower from your grotto (Nahida gives him a knowing smile as he leaves)

When he arrives, you're laying on the ground, looking unwell. He puts his hand to your forehead, and you're burning up

Why would you give the flower to him if it would hurt you so much?

"Because you needed it," you say with a smile

He'll take care of you for the next few days, your waking hours being filled with scolding and mild insults about how stupid it was to give all thay power to a stranger. What if they wanted to take advantage of you?

You laugh and smile. When he's not paying attention, you'll make little figurines out of flower of him

Then he'll notice and scold you for not resting properly, idiot (he does think it's very cute though)

He'll protest even when you insist you are perfectly healthy again

You'll take him to the deepest part of the grotto where you made a picture of the two of you in glowing flowers. He says it looks stupid, but you notice his little blush and giggle

He has to leave for a few days and during that time, treasure hoarders find your grotto

They have no respect for your plants, so you hide, slowly growing weaker and weaker as they pick and burn your plants

Needless to say, when Scara returns and sees you hanging on by a thread, he's pissed

He wipes them out and tends to you once again. It takes months this time until you are healthy, but he's by your side every step of the way

"Clearly, you can't take care of yourself, so I'll have to watch out for you! Hey! Don't giggle! What's so funny, idiot?"

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soaringthroughthegalaxy · 5 months

Note

Hi. I read your work on Ao3 and I saw that you said we could come here and leave a request. Can you write something with Crosshair x fem reader with the prompt "What kind of spell did you put on me?" And if I can help you with the plot, maybe the reader could be a shy doctor who agreed to work with the boys when everyone else rejected it. There aren't many stories out there with Crosshair and a shy reader. You choose whether there will be smut or not. xoxo 🌺

Thank you so much, anon. Writing a shy reader was fun. I hope I did it justice! Kept this one SFW.

Cracks in the Wall

Not much could ruffle Crosshair's feathers or get past the wall he'd built around himself over the years - until he met you.

Pairing: Crosshair x f!reader

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: sibling banter/teasing, shy!reader, doctor!reader, Cross doesn’t know what to do with feelings but he’s trying okay, sprinkle of self-doubt from both Cross and reader, alludes to medical trauma, fluff, softness, cheeky lil’ kiss, pet names.

“Off somewhere?” Hunter’s voice cuts through their shared barracks, stopping Crosshair as he heads for the door. He’s careful to keep his voice even, suppressing the smile that’s trying to appear.

Crosshair grits his teeth, freezing at his older brother’s question. He’d hoped to get away with minimal fuss, but the Maker didn’t look to be on his side today. “Fresh air.” He answers cooly with a slight shrug, sliding effortlessly behind a mask of indifference.

“Right…” Hunter drags out the word, raising an eyebrow as he glances out the panoramic window. “In the storm?” He clarifies, knowing eyes turning back to his baby brother.

“Nah, he’s slinking off to see that pretty doctor again, ain’t ya?” Wrecker steamrollers, not one to miss the opportunity to tease Crosshair. He sits on the edge of his bunk, leaning forward like an excited child about to be told a deep secret.

Crosshair doesn’t dignify the question with an answer, though nerves have him sliding the toothpick between his lips to the other side of his mouth.

Tech knows he shouldn’t torment his twin, but when it’s been so beautifully laid out for him, he would be remiss not to. “Feeling unwell again?” He asks, tone neutral though the mirth in his eyes is unmissable.

The frustrated grunt Crosshair lets out makes his brothers chuckle, and he stalks from the room, the sound of their combined laughter only dying out once the door slides shut behind him.

Making his way down the corridor towards the medbay, the sterile white halls of Kamino make him squint, the light unnecessarily bright. He hates the constant noise and busyness here, the Regs sneering at him as he passes. He hates how sterile everything is and all the memories of being tested and tormented as a cadet.

But that hatred evaporates as he rounds the corner and spots your name on the board for ‘on duty’ doctors. At least there was one good thing about coming back.

Crosshair’s pace slows as he reaches the doors to the medbay, pesky nerves settling into his gut. He takes a moment to compose himself, adjusting his armour and smoothing a hand over his hair. He might be an expert marksman on the battlefield, but the prospect of a simple conversation with you has him feeling oddly out of his element.

You were the only doctor who’d tend to him and his brothers when they were injured, the only one willing to adapt how you worked to suit their differences. The memories of your considerate actions flood his mind – dimming the lights so he doesn’t have to squint, providing candy to uplift Wrecker’s spirits, explaining procedures to Tech, and creating a more comfortable space for Hunter’s senses. It wasn’t just out of professional duty; there was a personal touch, a kindness rarely extended to him and his brothers.

Somewhere along the way, Crosshair had found himself replaying your interactions like a cherished film, analysing every word and every gesture, searching for any signs that you enjoyed his company as much as he did yours. You never pushed or asked too much of him, never complained when he denied a test, and you didn’t draw attention to the way his body betrayed him by trembling ever so slightly whenever you approached with a needle for blood tests or booster shots.

With a deep breath, he pushes open the medbay doors. The familiar hum of medical equipment and the crisp scent of bacta greet him as he steps inside. Memories try to resurface, but he battles them down, even as his heart races.

The medbay is relatively quiet, with a few Regs resting in recovery beds and a medical droid diligently tending to its duties. And there, at the back of the room, head bent over a datapad, he spots you. He hesitates for a moment, watching you work. He shouldn’t be disturbing you; he knows you’re always busy, but since Tech had informed him that they were heading back to Kamino, he hasn’t been able to shake the urge to see you, speak to you, and exist in the same space as you.

As he approaches, his boots make a minimal sound on the pristine floor, and he clears his throat, his usually confident demeanour faltering in the presence of the one person who manages to unravel his composure. “Hey.” His voice breaks the silence, though it doesn’t draw the attention of the Regs or droids.

Caught off guard, you startle a little, glancing up. Your eyes widen slightly as you take in the man standing before you. Elation floods your body as you gaze into the sharp brown eyes you’d come to adore, and relief follows quickly at the realisation that he’s in one piece and has survived whatever mission he’d been sent on recently. For the longest time, you’d tried to convince yourself that your care for the quiet sniper was solely professional, but you were fooling no one. “Cross… you’re back.” You greet him, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

He’d never admit it, but warmth spreads through his chest at the nickname. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” He mutters, sliding his toothpick back to the other side of his mouth.

Your eyes track the movement of the toothpick before flicking up to meet his gaze, offering him a warm smile. “No problem. Just caught up in the datapad, you know how it is.”

He nods, though internally, he’s relieved by your easy response. The following silence is awkward, and your gaze dips away momentarily, but you take the initiative and set aside the datapad. “What brings you to the medbay today? Not feeling under the weather, I hope?” You inquire, concern evident in your expression.

Guilt churns in Crosshair’s gut, but he refuses to let it show. He can’t help himself. “Feeling off.” He states, the lie rolling from his tongue with ease.

With a slight frown of concern, you gesture towards the private consultation room, a familiar song and dance now. Crosshair enters the room first, depositing his toothpick in the trash can near the door before he slides himself up to sit on the exam bed while you enter. The door clicks shut, and you fall into a standard med check routine.

Crosshair answers your questions with his usual brevity, providing enough information to satisfy your professional curiosity and cover up that he’s lying to be here with you. As you work, the tension in the room eases.

As you move to the physical examination, you watch as Crosshair pries his left hand plate and gauntlet off, enabling you to slide your fingers under the cuff of his blacks, pointer and middle fingers pressed to his wrist, counting the beats of his heart.

Despite his best efforts to remain indifferent, he can’t help but feel warm at your touch, heart rate elevating.

Under your fingers, you feel his pulse quicken. It’s throwing off your count, and you know that once again, you won’t get an accurate figure, but you don’t draw attention to it, blissfully believing it was his anxiety at being in the medbay. Selfishly, you enjoy this part the most. Crosshair is warm to the touch, skin surprisingly soft, and you can stand a little closer than usual, enabling you to breathe in a scent you’ve come to associate with him – regulation body wash, blaster cleaner, and a sour sweetness you’re sure is from candy. You’ve seen how he eyes up the sour gummies you hand to Wrecker whenever you’ve finished patching up or looking over the gentle giant.

After a minute, you draw your hand back, offering a slight nod, which sees him sliding his armour back into place. Lifting your pointer finger, you wait for his gaze to snap towards it, and then you watch as he tracks it side to side, up and down, near and far. You’d recommended the addition of this check when you’d learned about his enhancements – never a defect, in your opinion – and how heavily he relied on his vision.

He tracks your finger with ease, eyes moving smoothly and quickly. “Everything seems to be in order.” You state quietly, reaching for a nearby datapad to update his medical file.

Crosshair can’t help but admire you as you tap away at the screen. He sees a great deal from afar, but being closer opens a new world. “How’ve you been?” He asks, finding himself genuinely curious. He hates small talk with a burning passion, but he’ll always make an exception for you.

“Good! It’s been busy. We had some of the boys from 184th come in, and their injuries were unlike anything I’ve seen before.” You paused in your tapping, glancing up at Crosshair, gauging whether to continue. His gaze was focused on you, and the fact he was still listening gave you the courage to continue. “I mean, I’ve dealt with blaster wounds, shrapnel, even the occasional strange accident, but this...this was something else.” You shared, focusing back on the screen before continuing the story.

“They had this inexplicable rash all over their bodies. I’ve never seen anything spread so fast. And the worst part? No one could figure out where it came from. We ran every test imaginable, yet their blood work was normal; there were no signs of infection, but this rash kept spreading.” You rambled, excited at getting to share this with him. It had been a highlight of the last few weeks – a break from the usual. “We started brainstorming, throwing around ideas, and then it hit me. We needed to check their gear, their uniform, everything. And you won’t believe what we found.” You paused again, looking up at Crosshair with wide eyes.

Did Crosshair give a damn about some Regs with a rash? No, not really. But he cared about you, and the excitement on your beautiful face, as you shared this story, meant he’d gladly listen to the tale a hundred times. “What did you find?” He asked, watching as you broke out into a smile. Sometimes, his heart ached at how easy it was to make you happy – that all it took was someone willing to listen to you.

“Coma-bloom flowers. They’d made camp beside a huge patch of coma-bloom and, while sleeping on the ground, had rolled into some of its pollen. It could’ve killed them if they’d accidentally ingested it, so thank the Maker, all they did was get it on their skin. But still…took a lot of meds, and a lot of showers, to get it out of their systems.” You explained. It had been a fascinating case, expanding your medical knowledge and driving you into exploring other fauna and flora that could be toxic to the men who swung by the medbay.

The realisation sank in quickly that you’d rambled for a while, excited over a case of troopers with a rash. Maker above, he’d think you were crazy. Head dipping a little, you tapped at the datapad screen nervously.

Your sudden shift in mood wasn’t lost on him. He’d seen his brother act the same way after info-dumping. “Smart girl.” Crosshair murmurs, a deep feeling of pride settling in his chest. The shyness that overcame you at his compliment made his gut twist. You were too sweet.

Warmth blooms in your chest at the compliment, and you busy yourself by sifting through his medical file, so you don’t dwell on the feelings bubbling inside you. “You didn’t collect the prescriptions from your previous visits...” You mumble with a frown, double-checking that you were reading his notes correctly. “Did the symptoms go away on their own?” You ask, glancing up at him.

Crosshair freezes, mind racing as he tries to devise an excuse. Any excuse would do.

They were shipped out before he could collect them? No. Once, perhaps, but more than that, and it would be obvious he was lying.

He could go down the route of feeling better before collecting them. But no, that would only make it seem like he’d been wasting your time.

With a sigh, Crosshair realises he only has one path. “They were never there to begin with.” He comes clean.

Brow’s furrowing, your head tilts ever so slightly, curious and concerned. “What? Then why did yo-“

“What kind of spell did you put on me?” Crosshair unintentionally interrupts, watching as your concern melts into surprise, your beautiful eyes blinking a few times. He reaches out, tracing a finger across your cheek before dragging his thumb across your lower lip. “You won’t leave my thoughts. Driving me crazy.” He whispers, loathing how vulnerable he feels but unable to stop himself now there are cracks in the wall he’d built up around himself.

“O-Oh…” You swallow, not sure what to do with such a confession, caught off guard by the intensity of the words and his gaze. The thud of your heart rings in your ears, and butterflies erupt in your stomach. “Urm, well, I’m so-”

Before you can finish the sentence, Crosshair presses his thumb more firmly to your lips. “Don’t you dare apologise, doll.”

Silence hangs in the air between you. Your thoughts are a whirlwind, processing the unexpected confession from Crosshair. His touch lingers on your lips, and you can feel the warmth of his skin against your face. The nickname catches you off guard, and a flutter of something unspoken stirs within you.

Crosshair, for all his stoicism, appears different in this moment. Vulnerability seeps through the cracks in his demeanour, and the intensity of his gaze makes your heart race. You can’t deny the attraction you’ve felt for him, the way your heart would skip a beat whenever he entered the medbay, but this...this is a revelation.

Finally, Crosshair withdraws his thumb from your lips, filling the room with a charged silence. It’s as if the atmosphere has shifted. “When are you next off duty?” He asks. He’d already shown his hand, and you hadn’t run away or demanded he leave – it was worth pushing his luck just a little more.

Confusion mars your brow. “Tomorrow.” You answer quietly.

“I know this great place on Kowak.” Crosshair pitches, anxiety clinging to his words despite his attempt to sound casual. He’s never been one for small talk or sweet gestures, but the prospect of spending time with you outside the confines of the medbay is something he finds strangely appealing.

Your eyes widen in surprise, the unexpected invitation catching you off guard. Kowak isn’t exactly a typical choice for a casual outing, but then again, Crosshair is anything but typical. “Kowak? Really?” You respond, a mix of curiosity and amusement colouring your tone.

He nods, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. “Yeah, there’s this little cantina with the best atmosphere. Quiet, secluded. I think you’ll like it.”

A genuine smile tugs at the corners of your lips. “I’ll take your word for it. Tomorrow, then?”

Crosshair nods again, a subtle tension releasing from his shoulders. “Tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at 0900 hours.” He shifts off the exam bed, booted feet meeting the floor. He holds your gaze for a second longer before breaking it and heading for the door.

A fleeting feeling of panic laces through you. You don’t want Crosshair to go, even though you’ll see him tomorrow morning. As he reaches to press the small button to open the exam room door, you call out his name, watching as he pauses. Feet carrying you across the small space, you don’t know where the courage comes from as you push up on your tiptoes, pressing a feather-light kiss to his cheek.

Crosshair freezes at the unexpected touch, his heart pounding in his chest. The sensation of your lips against his cheek sends a jolt through him, and for a moment, he’s unsure how to react. It’s a rare instance where he finds himself genuinely caught off guard.

He turns to face you, his sharp brown eyes meeting yours. The vulnerability in his expression is back, your small gesture cracking open another layer of the wall he tried to hide behind, and Crosshair finds himself at a loss for words.

You, on the other hand, feel a mix of bravery and uncertainty. You’ve taken a leap, and now you’re waiting for the reaction, unsure what it means for the dynamic between you both. His gaze lingers on you, and the air is thick with tension.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Crosshair breaks into a rare, genuine smile. It’s a subtle curve of his lips that transforms his usually serious countenance into something softer. “You surprise me, doc.” He says, his voice a low murmur. “But I’m not complainin’.”

With that, Crosshair steps back and opens the door, sliding a fresh toothpick between his lips. As he exits the room, he glances back at you, a lingering intensity in his gaze. The door slides shut behind him, leaving you in the quiet room, heart racing and mind reeling from the unexpected turn of events.

Tomorrow couldn’t come fast enough.

#the bad batch x reader #the bad batch x you #tbb x you #tbb x reader #the bad batch crosshair #crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair x you #tbb crosshair x reader #crosshair bad batch #bad batch crosshair #tbb crosshair #crosshair #crosshair x you #the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #star wars clone wars #ct 9904

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leeknow-thoughts · 4 months

Text

ELF TOY TESTING

rating : mature!!! (mdni)

tw(s) : enemies to fwb, switch!reader, switch!minho, reader and minho are both elves in Santa's workshop, mommy!minho towards the end!??!, all kinds of sex toys, petnames, praise and degrading, pegging, mean!minho, p in v, dom!reader for like 2 seconds

"It's either this or go back to that horrid job in toddler toys," Hyunjin tries to make you feel better.

You sigh, "what do they even do in Adult Gift Fulfillment?"

"Whatever it is, I'd choose it over my job training Dasher. I swear if he kicks me again I'm going to apply to work as a scout elf," Hyunjin rambles.

Your feet crunch against the snow as he walks you to the gingerbread house dedicated to the Adult Gift Fulfillment Center. "You'll do great, apparently this job is heavily sought after," Hyunjin tries to find the bright side.

You huff, "but apparently my business partner is a pain in the-"

"-It'll be okay! Promise you'll tell me all about it later tonight," Hyunjin cuts you off.

You finally notice you're in front of the large gingerbread house, you take a deep breath, trying to get rid of your nerves. You push open the door, instead of huge assembly lines and wrapping stations, you see desks where elves are reading papers and working on computers. "Oh I'm y/n, I'm the transfer," you say to the nearest elf.

"Oh hi, you're working in the product testing department I think?" the girl says with a confused look, "I'll show you the way."

You follow her up the stairs made of wafers onto the second floor. She stops and nods to the door of the Testing Department. "Just right in there!" she smiles with sympathy.

She must know how bad my new partner is you think.

You nod and thank her, open the door. It's unlike the large room downstairs, only a few desks with many rooms in the background. "Hi you're the new hire right?" A smiley elf with blonde hair, freckles, and kind eyes asks.

"Yeah, y/n, that's me," you smile at him.

"Felix," he pauses, hesitating what he's gonna say next, "this job is great, but uhm your partner is a little uhm..."

You interrupt him while he tries to find the words, "of an ass?"

"Yeah, you could say that," he chuckles awkwardly, "so I'm assuming you're a virgin?"

Your eyes bug out of your head, your jaw falling onto the floor, "a... huh? Excuse me?"

"A virgin?" he stops, "are you one?"

You feel your face heat up, unable to speak, nodding yes instead. He nods in understanding, "then I'll ask the toy makers to give you something easy, not too overwhelming y'know?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do you mean?" he shoots back.

"Like what did," you lower your voice, "my virginity... have to do with testing toys?"

He stares at you blankly for a second before he starts chuckling, "they're adult toys, y'know like vibrators and butt plugs?"

You feel like you're going to faint, "WHAT?" you scream.

"Well yeah, this entire department's job is testing sex toys," he says with an incredulous smile plastered on his, rather handsome, face.

He gives you a soft smile, "it'll be fine, you can hopefully do your first testing by yourself, maybe get used to it before you start testing couple's toys with your partner."

"I-I mean is anyone going to watch me?" you stutter.

"Unless you're testing with Minho no, all you have to do is test it and then answer some questions afterwards," Felix explains, "here let me show you to your desk," he smiles.

He takes you through the office space, unlocking a door into one of the rooms in the back of the office space, "here's your testing office," he opens the door and hands you the keys.

You take the silver keys from him, you look inside the room. Felix steps inside and you follow. Inside is a king size bed with two nightstands, one on each side. A television on the opposite wall from the bed. A chute on the wall to the right of the bed. "Inside the nightstands are lube and condoms just so you know, and after you're done y'know... doing whatever... you put the toy down the chute and the TV will put questions on the screen and you just use the TV remote to answer them. And that's it, it's pretty easy. Also you can watch porn on the TV if you need to to you know... feel... anything," he says the last part awkwardly.

"Seems simple I guess? Oh wait, where do the toys get delivered to me from?" you question.

"There," he points to the indention in the wall with a light overhead it that you hadn't noticed yet.

"Oh well thank you Felix, you seem really nice," you compliment.

"So do you," he smiles, "also if you want to you can keep the toys you test. Just so you know," he winks.

You feel heat in your cheeks. "Well my testing room is next door, so if you ever need anything let me know, bye y/n," Felix says with a bubbly voice as he walks out of the room.

After the door shuts behind him you look back at the room, it is cozy, the dim lighting and comfortable feel are enchanting. The light above the wall indention blinks three times. You walk towards it. A small piece of the wall slides down, a box sized hole in the wall is all that's left, another elf holds the box out to you through the hole, "here you go, since it's your first day I figured I'd give you things pretty easy," the elf's kind voice says, "but later today you do have to do a testing with your partner Minho, we'll just send him to your room," they wait for you to take the box from their hands.

You do, "thank you," you reply.

The other elf removes their hands and then the piece of the wall slides back to cover the gap. You fiddle with the box in your hands. Deciding to open it after staring at it for a good few minutes.

Inside something that looks similar to a rose, on the top a small opening. You press the 'on' button, a small humming is heard. The TV automatically changes to a video of a woman sitting on her bed, the camera leveled with her core as she spreads her legs. Her bare pussy taking over the screen.

You scramble to remove your clothes, but hesitate when removing your underwear. "So this is supposed to suck on your clit," the girl on the screen says.

You watch hesitantly while sitting criss-crossed on the bed, wearing nothing but your bra and panties with the toy in your right hand. You watch the girl on screen turn the toy on, before she places it on her clit.

Apparently it must have felt good because she let out an erotic moan. You sigh, breathing out all your nerves, you lay back.

Spreading your legs, you move your underwear to the side. You hesitantly rub your pussy, fuck, were you supposed to be that wet?

You hold the toy in your right hand and you copy what the girl from the video does, you place it on the throbbing bud above your dripping hole.

Oh. Oh.

That's why so many elves want this job.

You finished answering the last question with the TV remote, you decided to keep that toy for yourself.

You heard moans and whines from the room beside you, Felix, you recognized his deep voice.

You giggle to yourself. You found yourself still in a state of ecstasy.

A knock on your door before it opened up, you scurried to cover yourself with the bed sheets. The elf swiftly closed the door behind himself. His cat-like features were illuminated by the soft glow of lights in the room.

He takes one look at you and he smirks, "I'm Minho," he introduces himself smugly.

"I'm naked," you reply, "would you mind not looking at me?"

He rolls his eyes, but obliges. "You have nice tits," he comments whilst facing the wall.

"Excuse me?" you gaff.

"You heard, I said you have nice tits, and probably a pretty pussy too," he clarifies.

Your face is blank. There was no way they expected you to fuck him.

That was your first time meeting Minho, and it certainly wasn't your last.

The second time you met Minho you were testing a couple's toy, a strap on dildo. Minho was annoyed at you as he laid face down - ass up on the center of the bed, fingering his ass open. "God you really are incompetent, you don't even know how to finger someone. They could've at least not given me the Virgin Mary," he sighs as his fingers thrust in and out of his own ass.

The least you could do was jerk him off, you moved your hand down to his thick, long cock. "Squeeze it tighter around the tip," he critiques.

You follow his instructions, paying closer attention to his flared, dark brown cockhead. "Shit, maybe you're more of a slut than I thought you were," he rasps.

You continue your movements, until Minho stops you, "you can put it in now."

You grab the lube and squirt it on the dildo before you shift behind him on the bed, he looks back and guides the tip of the silicone toy into his throbbing asshole.

Once you bottom out in him you start moving, an awkward learning process, "God you dumb bitch, you don't even know how to fuck right!" he spits venom with his words.

You had enough, "shut up. I didn't ask you how you liked to be fucked did I?" you spit back.

You thrust your hips harder against him. Knocking the wind out of his lungs and the words out of his throat. You build up a rhythm for your hip movements.

"Huh? I want an answer Minho," you request.

His whines and moans grow louder as you thrust deeper and deeper inside him. "Huh? Too dumb to reply," you coo, "dumb little bitch."

Your hand comes down and you slap his ass. The action causes him to moan, "I-cumming-"

"Yeah, cum on my cock like the dumb bitch you are," you seeth.

The third time you had to test a toy with Minho he was having to wear a vibrating cock ring.

"Sure you can take it?" he raises his brow.

You scoff, but soon regret it when he starts moving. The constriction on his cock causing it to swell so deliciously. "Oh there you go, be nice and dumb for me," he mutters.

You throw your head back, you could feel all the ridges and veins of his fat cock inside your sensitive pussy. Everything felt surreal, so sensitive.

"Be a dumb little bitch for me," he smirked, "next time just come to me, I'll make you feel better than any of these stupid toys ever could."

And you were just a dumb bitch for him. Just for those moments though.

That's what you told yourself.

Yet here you were, your face shoved in Minho's couch pillows, while Minho landed a hard slap on your sensitive pussy.

"That's it, such a good whore, you like when mommy abuses your sloppy pussy?" he coos.

Circling his fingers around your clit, pinching it with his index finger and his thumb. Rubbing away all the discomfort in tight circles around your clit. "You have such a cute little clit," he muses with sugar in his voice.

So everytime you were still needy even after a day of testing sex toys, you could always swing by Minho's house. Taking his cock in whatever position he'd give it to you in.

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itsjusthockey · 4 months

Text

A Nonsense Christmas - Jack Hughes

(Fruitcake EP Series)

Finally.

Enjoy

Comment and interact, love u guys that do. Makes my night

w.c: 2,083 (credit to gif maker) (don’t steal my work)

“Isn’t this illegal?” You ask, following Jack down through the tunnel of the very dark and very closed Prudential Center. “Or at least frowned upon?”

He snorts in front of you and turns to meet your eyes, a cocky smirk playing on his lips as he leans toward you, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

“Being me has its privileges, baby.”

He throws you a wink, and you roll your eyes as far back as you can as you continue to follow him down toward the devil's locker room. You’ve been to the Devil's barn many times before, but never when it was this late and very obviously closed. This little rendezvous wasn’t your plan. Things that are this extravagant usually aren’t.

You are currently in Jersey, but only for a few days. The hockey world was about to go on break, and Jack had begged you to fly in before you both headed to Michigan for the holidays. You were a bit hesitant, but after a few bribes from your boyfriend, you ended up in Jersey.

Tonight is your first night, and all you want after a long week of finals and a tiring flight is to land face-first in Jack's bed and stay there—Jack has other plans. As soon as you land and drop your stuff in the apartment, he is quick to shoo you out the door again, explaining he has a surprise date night planned after your miserable finals, and you are going to love what he has planned.

At the moment, the only feeling that is plaguing your mind is nervousness. Jack’s too cocky, and he has a slight bounce in his step which usually means he’s up to no good.

You follow behind him diligently, and soon enough, you both enter the locker room. The space is as lovely as you remember it, and you follow Jack over to his stall, which is conveniently next to his baby brothers. You watch with slightly narrowed eyes as he grabs various items from his locker and hands them to you.

It isn’t until he opens his little cubby that everything falls into place. There inside is a brand new box, and when he opens it in front of you, his stupid little smirk grows even wider.

“You like?” He proudly pulls the new Bauer skates from the box, handing one over to you.

You take in the brand new pair of skates. They’re beautiful, custom, and just your size.

“You, sir, are evil.” You give him a false mean glare, but you’re slightly being honest with your statement. “You really bought me skates and trapped me here to force me to ice skate?”

He shrugs his shoulders again, smiling. “Yes, I did.”

You roll your eyes at the boy in front of you. You’ve been together for a while, a long time, and while you’re dating one of the best hockey players in the league, you can’t ice skate for shit. It’s not for a lack of trying; you really have given it your all, but you’ve just had terrible teachers. Jack has tried to teach you many times. Many, many times, to no avail.

The first time, you almost ended up with a trip to the emergency room. The second time you landed so hard on your back, you thought you were paralyzed. The third time, you almost got a concussion. So it’s simple to say you’ve tried your best, but you’ve decided to leave ice skating to the professionals.

“Come on, baby, tonight’s the night, I feel it.”

You follow him out of the locker room toward the ice. You pause when you get there, suddenly feeling a sense of nostalgia. The lights are on in the center ice, and you have to admit it looks serene and slightly beautiful in the late evening. You’ve only ever been here when it is bustling with fans, and you feel a little special getting to see it this way.

“Come on, stop stalling.” Jack teases, patting the bench for you to sit.

You follow him and seat yourself in front of him. He’s smiling big, and he looks ridiculously happy. He’s always like this when he’s here; he has a certain energy when he’s close to a rink. You’d never tell him this, but you love it when he tries to teach you, even if you are wildly nervous.

Jack kneels down, immediately getting to work. You wince slightly as he pulls the skatelaces impossibly tighter around your foot. He quickly loops them around and tucks them into the sides, ensuring there is no possibility of you tripping, which you may or may not have done before.

“There, how’s that?” Jack gently pats your ankle as he looks up at you, still kneeling on the floor.

You shake your feet around, and the brand-new Bauer skates don’t budge a bit; it’s really tight and slightly cutting off blood flow, but you would rather have that than a broken ankle.

“Feels good.”

He smiles again, standing up and grabbing your face. He pulls you in for a quick kiss, then sits next to you, pulling on his own skates. You watch as he tightens them in record speed, and soon enough, he’s launching himself across the boards.

You glare at him as he races around the ice. He skates forward, backward, and even does a little spin. He’s laughing as you’re watching him move around fluidly, and once he’s done, he skates back to you, leaning over the boards where you’re standing, safely behind the danger.

“Stop showing off J, you’re not cute.”

He barks out a laugh at your bitterness, but he smiles sweetly and extends a hand for you to grab. You hesitate, watching his open palm for a minute before you finally pluck up enough courage and swing yourself onto the ice.

As soon as your foot makes contact with the ice, you fall a bit forward, and Jack steadies your waist. You give him another glare when you catch his amused stare. He’s enjoying this way too much.

“Okay, baby, you ready for the basics?”

You nod and watch as your boyfriend goes into full teacher mode. He tells you how to go, how to change directions, and you’re off. You feel pretty good. You haven’t been injured yet, but you seem to be skating better than you ever have. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re on professional ice; maybe their talent is seeping in.

You’re moving pretty fast, actually very fast, and Jack has let go of your hands, letting you glide on your own. It isn’t until you’re getting a little too close that you realize he forgot to reach you, the most essential part of ice skating.

“Wait,” you screech a bit. “How the fuck do I stop!”

Before you can do anything, you smack into the boards and fall on your ass. You hit the ice pretty hard as you go down, and as soon as you fall, you just lay there accepting defeat.

You hear Jack's loud and annoying laughter before he gets to you. He skates up so close, and he hovers above your body, looking incredibly pleased with himself.

“You were doing so good. What happened?”

You huff in annoyance, and he holds out his hands to help you up. Once you’re back on your feet, you throw him another glare.

“I’m not having fun.”

He smiles and skates in a bit close, moving to kiss your pout away. He does, and when he pulls his face back, he gently moves a piece of stray hair out of your face.

“You’re doing good. It just takes practice.”

You nod, and a newfound sense of determination fills you. This is just ice skating, literally Jack's job, and you will fucking master it if it kills you. More so, you know for a fact that there is a family skate coming soon, and you want to impress people. You know you have it in you, so you grit your teeth, use Jack to push you, and you’re off again.

An hour later, you’re quite impressed with yourself. You’ve managed to skate around and haven’t fallen once. You’re moving good, and you’re finally able to keep up with Jack to a certain extent.

“You better watch out J, I think the league might replace you with me.”

You wink at him as he watches you proudly, and you can tell this means a lot to him, so even if it means you’ll fall a few times, you’ll do this every day.

“You’re a natural.” He circles you, and you try your best not to knock into him. “You just needed to get out of your head.”

You nod, smilingly, and you both skate for a little longer. Eventually, you grow a bit tired. It’s been a long day, and you find yourself skating toward the devil's bench in search of some much-needed water.

Jack reads your mind and beats you to the bench, swinging himself over and grabbing the water bottle. He grins a little bit and melts your heart. He shakes the water bottle and holds it high. You oblige and tilt your head back as he squirts the water into your mouth. He misses a bit, causing the water to dribble down your chin. You sputter a bit and wipe at your face, playfully glaring at him.

“Oops, my bad," Jack says, chuckling as he wipes the excess water off your cheek with his hand. "Looks like I need to work on my aim."

You shake your head, feigning annoyance, but you can’t help but find his boyish antics endearing.

“You're lucky you're cute," you tease, unable to hold back your laughter.

Jake grins impossibly wider, his eyes twinkling a bit with mischief. "Well, I guess I'll have to make it up to you then."

He reaches out and helps pull you safely off the ice. He makes quick work and cups your face with cold hands, leaning down to kiss you softly.

The familiar tingle of excitement rushes through you as your lips meet, and you melt into his embrace, warming yourself up. His kiss is passionate but sweet and tender; it sends shivers down your spine. The light sounds of the empty area fade, and you find yourself getting lost with him.

After what feels like an eternity, you pull apart, breathless but grinning from ear to ear. Jack's blue eyes sparkled as he looks at you with all the affection in the world.

“Better?" he asks with a smirk, his hand still resting on your cheek.

You nod, your heart swelling with happiness. "Much better," you whisper, unable to hide your adoration for this hockey-playing heartthrob in front of you.

You sigh wistfully and see the twitch of a smile tug at his lips as you cup his jaw and tug him down to meet you in another gentle, lingering kiss. The warmth of his touch sends a rush of emotions through you, and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

“Are you hungry?” Jack whispers in your hair.

You nod and loop your arms through his bent elbows, crossing it over his back. You press a soft kiss to his jaw, and he pulls you back toward the locker room. It doesn’t take long for you both to pack up, and you’re very pleased with the successful date night. It isn’t often you get to do things like this, and every time you do, you’re reminded how special your relationship is.

Ten minutes later, you’re packed into the Range Rover, and Jack is speeding toward his favorite late-night burger place. When you pull in, you see the hanging Christmas lights, and you’re reminded of the season. It’s Christmas, and you get to spend time with him, lots of time.

He leads you in hand and hand, and you can’t help but feel utter joy as you eat and spend the rest of the night together. The holdings season is shaping up to be the best yet, and you’re unbelievably excited to spend it by his side.

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luveline · 5 months

Note

how r our kbd babies doing today?

kisses before dinner —the harrington's recuperate at the end of a long week. 2k, mom!reader

“It's not so bad,” you murmur. “Just a little sting.”

Avery looks up at you with eyes widened. She couldn't look more like Steve. “How little?”

Bethie snores on your chest. You're laying in bed, Avery sitting on the floor in your room with a teddy in her lap. You'd pull her up into your bed if there were any room, but with Beth's leg hanging off of your hip and Steve curled toward you like a question mark, there isn't space to spare.

“They call it a sharp scratch.”

Avery came in with big questions this morning. Mom, what does a needle feel like?

“Does it leave a hole?” she asks.

“No, just a tiny dot,” you say, rubbing Beth's back. She's very warm, worryingly so. “Can you pass me Bethie's thermometer?”

“Will you ask me nicely?” she asks.

“Please could you pass Bethie's thermometer, my love?” you say. She smiles, indulged by your sweetend tone, and crawls forward to rifle through the mass of things you've accrued during Beth's flu and subsequent, semi-permanent stay in your bed after her last few days in hospital. Vitamins and mapap, melted cool packs and Dove's rainbow bear. She doesn't really know what's happening, but she knows her sister needs support right now, and so she's parted with her favourite bear.

Nobody ever mentioned how many plush animals you acquire when you have children. They're everywhere. At least two in each room.

“Can I put it on her head?”

“Sure,” you say, brushing Bethie's hair back to give Avery an uninterrupted landing pad. “Be nice, baby, please.”

“I'll be so nice,” Avery promises. She reaches up, tall on her knees, and smooths the thermometer patch over Beth's forehead.

“Thank you. Kiss?”

Avery gives you a kiss. Together, you watch the thermometer respond to Bethie's skin, and when the gauge hits the red that demonstrates much too hot, you bite back a spike of panic.

“Is she okay?”

“Yeah, she's okay.” You put your arm firmly behind Bethie's back and sit up with a wince. Steve stirs beside you. “Steve? She's getting hot again.”

He grunts in his dozing. You nudge him. You'll say sorry afterwards; this is not a nice way to wake up.

“Steve,” you say. Though it certainly isn't nice, you know he'd prefer to be woken up. You shake him by the shoulders.

He coughs as he wakes, “What? What?” he asks.

“She's at 101 again.”

Steve takes your wrist into his hand. He snaps into dad mode quickly. “That's fine, honey. 101 is fine. She's not a baby anymore, just take her blanket off and I’ll go get another cool pack.”

“Are you sure?”

His voice is gravel. “I promise she's just fine. We don't have to take her back to Urgent Care unless she's at 102 for two days in a row.”

And you already knew that, but you needed him to tell you. You lean down and rub your nose into Bethie's crown. “Okay,” you say shyly. Shouldn't have woken him. Shouldn't have panicked.

“You okay, mom?”

Steve peeks over your body to see Avery sitting on the floor. “Avery! My favourite toast maker, do you want breakfast? Let's make toast and get Beth some ice.”

Steve leans in to kiss you, then Beth. “Stay here.”

“No, it's okay, let's go downstairs.” You don't meet his eyes as you say it. You just don't want to be away from him lately.

“...Okay, no worries.” He yawns and puts out his arms for a transfer of the sleeping child. “Did you brush your teeth, Avey-bear?”

“No,” she says happily.

He heaves Beth into his arms, her head falling into the curve of his neck. It would've been nicer if he had a minute to come to, but he hasn't had time to himself in days, and he doesn't complain. Steve just holds Bethie close and gets to starting the day. “After breakfast, then. Come on, sweetheart.”

It takes you a few seconds to realise he's talking to you. Your face feels hot. “Coming.”

You make sure Wren's baby monitor is on and leave her sleeping in her crib though she's destined to wake up any time now, putting the twin in your pocket. Steve ushers Avery down the stairs first, following her with Beth cemented to his front as you check on Dove. She's awake but laying down still, blanket tucked to her chin and one of her small feet sticking out of the side.

“Hello,” you say, feeling the aches and pains of the last week echoing through your back as you lean against her door. “Good morning, beautiful.”

“Good morning,” she says back. Then, with a squint. “Yo'r leaving?”

You giggle at her funny pronunciation. “Not today. You want to come have breakfast?”

“Carry me,” she says, kicking off the blankets.

“Where's your sock?” You cross the room to pick her up. You don't want to carry her, it seems that the majority of your life is spent carrying these kids with legs of their own, but then you pick her up and feel her weight against your chest and don't mind so much. “Say? Where's your sock?” you ask, tilting your head to her.

“I had hot toes when I was– when I was sleeping.”

“Yeah? How are they now?”

“They're fine.”

You hook your index finger into her sock and pull it off.

“Can I have,” —she drags her nose against your shoulder— “waffles with syrup?”

“I think daddy's making toast.”

“...with syrup?”

“Whatever you want,” you say, dropping her sock on the floor for later laundry and carrying her down to the bottom of the stairs. She lounges in your arms.

From the stairs, you turn right into the hallway, which branches into both the living room and a small hallway to the kitchen. You go into the living room (which also, conveniently, connects to the kitchen), and find Bethie deposited on the big bean bag where she likes to nap, Steve kneeling by her side, a cool patch in hand as Avery fiddles with the TV.

“Are you feeling okay?” he's asking her, putting the patch on her forehead.

She smiles at him with a gaze clear enough to take some of the worry off your shoulders. “Yeah, daddy, just cold.”

“I know. You try and keep this on for me a little while so we can keep your temperature down, and I'm gonna go make you some breakfast. What sounds nice? You want jam and toast like Ave?”

“Can I have a… a peanut butter sandwich?”

He smiles at her like she's given him the secrets of the universe. “Yes. Absolutely you can.”

“Breakfast on the couch?”

Perfect. You put Dove on the couch next to Avery and turn the TV down to a quieter volume than usual. Bethie shivers at the cool pack but doesn't complain again, her attention drawn to the morning cartoons.

Steve's multi-tasking already as you prop open the kitchen door. Toast down in the toaster, elbow deep in a sink full of dishes. “Don't do those, I'll do them,” you say, “just make Beth her sandwich.”

“I got it. You make the sandwich, babe.”

“You make it.”

Steve turns around. He dries his hands. “Who the fuck are you talking to?” he asks, eyes wide and lips parted in a dramatised shock. “Me? Are you taking that tone with me?”

“Shut up,” you say.

He grabs you by the waist to pull you in. “You used to be such a nice girl, you'd make me cookies and ask me over for dinner, and when I'd take you out you'd try to hold both of my hands–”

“What does that have to do with anything?” you ask, startled and flush with remembering. You're still young, but you'd been so young. You love him more now than you ever did back then, but it's hard to forget the young love feeling of needing both his hands in yours, in wanting people to know you were together, but mostly of hoping he'd not want to let go of them.

“It means you used to be nice and now you suck,” he says, using the height he has over you to glare down at you. It doesn't last, five seconds at most. “Sorry, I didn't mean that.”

You laugh and put your hands around his waist. None of you look put together. His shirt is one of yours, your pyjama pants are about eight years old and don't fit right. Dove is in one of Bethie's nightgowns and Avery's trousers are a yard too short. Beth fares better in new pyjamas from her favourite uncle Eddie (please get well soon, baby Harrington), but they're ready for a wash. They all need baths.

“Today is gonna be a long day,” you say, blowing a breath against his throat just to see what he'll do.

Steve puts his arms over your shoulders. “I don't want a short one if it's with you.” He smiles, knowing it's a good line. “Can we still kiss?”

You used to have a ‘I haven't brushed my teeth’ rule, but more and more life together erases the embarrassment. “One. Close-lipped.”

“Yes sir,” he says, kissing you chastely. He makes it a good one, very loving, very can't-believe-I-get-to-be-loved-by-you.

You figure you might as well tell him so, in a way. “Steve?”

He steps back. You have the same idea at the same time, arms bashing into one another as you try to smooth his hair and he attempts to stroke your forehead.

“Yeah?”

“I'm sorry if I've been a lot. I know I haven't been as, you know, strong as you have. With Beth being sick.”

“You don't have to be,” he says. He talks gently, but there's more emotion in his eyes, a softness. “I can take care of all of you, I can. I wouldn't keep having kids if I didn't know I could take care of them and you.”

“But we're a team.”

“Yeah, we are, and I couldn't do any of this without you, but you don't have to worry about being strong. I can be enough for both of us while you're not feeling so sure.” He grabs your hand where it brushes his hair down. “Don't mess with my volume.”

“Steve, you couldn't have less volume right now.”

“I love you, and it's not just… comfortable. It's not just because you're the mom of my kids, or because it's been years. That stuff's obviously true, but I still love the girl who wants to hold both of my hands at the same time. I'd do this for you even if they weren't my girls, but they are, and you are, and it's not something you need to be sorry for.” He goes a little red at being so open. He doesn't know how endearing it is.

The toaster pops and makes you both jump. “Shit,” he says, turning around and sadly out of your arms.

“Are you burning the toast?” Avery shouts.

“Daddy's making a campfire in the kitchen,” you say cheerily.

Steve laughs infectiously, pulling the toast out with a knife. “I guess we get breakfast first today.”

You creep up behind him. “I love you so much,” you say, punctuating with a kiss to his warm cheek.

He abandons the toast as quickly as he'd tended to it to grab you for a squeeze. You groan as everything clicks and he leans into you, pressing love you's with every breath into the side of your head. “Things have been the worst but they're the best ‘cos we're together!” he insists. “You freak me out sometimes being sorry for stuff, why are you sorry? You could totally clock out and I wouldn't get mad, I worry about you. I've always worried about you and I'm gonna worry ‘till I die, I want to.”

“Don't wind yourself.”

“You're gonna make me crazy,” he says, kissing your jaw. “You really are.”

He hugs you for ages. Long enough that you end up eating chewy toast, but the girls get fresh toast and peanut butter sandwiches alike, so everything works out in the end.

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iovmegumi · 1 year

Text

sims 4 crystal legacy challenge

hello! here is a legacy challenge i created while playing the Garden Legacy challenge. i didn’t want to finish on my tenth gen and decided to create my own challenge, based on crystals. this challenge can be continued from a previous save or started in a new one! i also tried to implement base game options for those who don’t own all the packs! some gens do need packs but if you don’t have them, they may be skipped.

if you play this please tag me! or post your sims with #iovmegumi crystal legacy challenge

general rules ❥ you do not have to live on the same lot for all 10 generations if you wish. ❥ mods and cc are allowed! ❥ no money cheats ! ❥ i’ve assigned a colour to each gen so you may play with berry sims if you wish! ❥ i’ve decided that in each generation you may roll for offspring (rolling a dice or using a random number generator to decide how many children) unless stated otherwise in the rules.

gen one - rose quartz (pink)

a stone of unconditional love.

growing up, all you ever wanted was a family. leaving home young to start your life, you work on your career while trying to find the one, dedicated to cultivating the perfect life. you work hard to support your family and love your children so much, opening your heart and home to those in need of families as well. you cherish your partner and frequently find yourself going on date nights.

traits: family-oriented, romantic, perfectionist aspiration: super parent (PH) or big happy family rules:

❥ level 10 cooking ❥ level 5 gourmet cooking ❥ level 10 parenting (PH) ❥ master arts critic career or reach level 10 of painting while freelancing ❥ have four kids, one adopted ❥ marry your soulmate and stay together until death do you part

gen two - orange calcite (orange)

a stone for energy and creativity.

you had everything as a child, lots of siblings and loving parents. you took an interest in your house, specifically the furniture and decided that you’d love to create your own items. when you are old enough you begin learning how to make furniture and take an interest in repairing objects. though you grew such a passion for this, you found that you hadn’t really had time to make friends.

traits: loner, self-assured, maker (EL) or creative aspiration: master maker (EL) or curator rules:

❥ level 10 fabrication (EL) or complete crystal collection or both! ❥level 10 handiness ❥ level 5 gardening ❥ level 10 civil designer career - green technician branch (EL) or live off making creations ❥ have only one friend ❥ marry that friend ❥ complete aspiration ❥ roll for offspring ❥ fill house with furniture or items you’ve made

gen three - moonstone (white)

a symbol of light and hope and also encourages us to embrace new beginnings.

your parents were so focused on the world around you that you began wondering what else was out there. you grew a fascination for space and found the urge to explore outside your planet. you meet some different people, and even find yourself falling in love with one of them. how do you tell your parents that you’re marrying an alien?

traits: genius, family-oriented, clumsy aspiration: nerd brain rules:

❥ level 10 logic ❥ level 10 fitness ❥ level 10 rocket science ❥ level 5 parenting ❥ level 10 astronaut career ❥ complete aspiration ❥ have 4-5 kids ❥ marry an alien (if you have GTW) ❥ build & fully upgrade a rocket ship ❥ travel to sixam

gen four - sodalite (blue)

enhances communication and builds confidence.

having an alien background, you have never felt like you fit in. you dream of having lots of friends and living a normal life. you focus on trying to blend into society and try to be as social as possible, throwing parties and meeting new sims, even seeming to gain some attention on the internet too.

traits: outgoing, unflirty, party animal or bro and loyal aspiration: friend of the world rules:

❥ level 10 charisma ❥ level 7 comedy or mischief ❥ level 7 video gaming ❥ level 10 social media career - internet personality branch (CL) or entertainer - comedy branch ❥ complete aspiration ❥ roll for offspring ❥ throw 5 parties over the course of your life

gen five - pyrite (grey)

used for abundance, confidence & protection.

note: this gen requires Get Famous and may be skipped if you do not own the pack!

having a well-known parent thrust you into the spotlight from a young age and as you grew older, you found yourself loving it, wanting more. you dream of being on the big screen, your face plastered on billboards, your name nominated for awards. you’ll do anything to gain fame, even if it means use others.

traits: ambitious, snob, self-absorbed (GF) aspiration: world famous celebrity rules:

❥ level 10 acting ❥ level 10 piano ❥ level 5 violin ❥ level 5 guitar ❥ level 10 acting career ❥ complete aspiration ❥ become a 5 star celebrity ❥ have two failed marriages ❥ have only one child ❥ have a butler (VG)

gen six - amethyst (purple)

a powerful protective stone.

your parent was obsessed with fame, wanting you to follow in their footsteps. after seeing how little they cared about you, you decided to go in a different direction. your butler was your best friend and basically raised you, talking to you of how they used to love their family garden. you decide a quiet life is suited to you and put all your focus into working on a lovely garden dedicated to your butler.

traits: loves the outdoors, neat, vegetarian aspiration: freelance botanist rules:

❥ level 10 gardening ❥ level 10 cooking ❥ level 6 logic ❥ level 10 gardening career (seasons) or complete basegame plants collection or both ❥ have at least 3 kids ❥ lose one child to death ❥ be best friends with your childhood butler

gen seven - tourmaline (black)

promotes happiness and offers protection, inspires creativity.

losing a sibling was the hardest time of your life, and you found that your family never recovered from this loss. you hear a myth of a book that can bring people back to life and vow to return your sibling back to you and your family.

traits: gloomy, creative, paranoid or erratic aspiration: bestselling author rules:

❥ level 10 writing skill ❥ level 5 photography skill (GTW) ❥ level 10 writing career ❥ complete aspiration ❥ write book of life & bring back deceased sibling ❥ marry a bookworm ❥ roll for offspring ❥ adopt a cat (C&D)

gen eight - bloodstone (red)

for courage & justice, strengthens immune system & family bonds.

your parents had been stressed a lot of their life, working hard to bring your family member back. you were frustrated that they had to go through so much and decided to take it out on others. you grew to despise most people, working on creating enemies rather than friends, feeling a sense of justice for your parent. yet you still made sure to love your children, even if you may have not loved your spouse as much.

traits: mean, noncommittal, bro aspiration: bodybuilder rules:

❥ level 10 programming ❥ level 10 mischief ❥ level 10 criminal career (oracle branch) ❥ roll for offspring ❥ cheat on your spouse once all children are born ❥ get divorced as an adult ❥ get engaged again & leave new spouse at the altar

gen nine - amazonite (green)

a stone of peace, harmony, truth & communication.

the trauma of your parents rough marriage led you to pursue finding harmony and inner peace. you find this through yoga and painting, refusing to get a job so you can keep an eye on your spouse and make sure all your children feel loved.

traits: jealous, erratic, art lover aspiration: painter extraordinaire rules:

❥ level 10 painting ❥ level 10 wellness (SD) or level 10 violin ❥ level 5 knitting (NK) ❥ complete aspiration ❥ never get a job ❥ fill your household with children ❥ always celebrate the holidays (seasons) ❥ go to the spa once a week (SD)

gen ten - citrine (yellow)

attracts wealth, prosperity & success.

note: this gen requires discover university! but i have included a basegame option too!

your whole life has revolved around your siblings. you had nothing that was your own and desperately wanted to remove yourself from them, wanting your own success and your own name. you study and get a degree, priding yourself on your intelligence and work ethic.

traits: hot-headed, materialistic, overachiever or ambitious aspiration: fabulously wealthy rules:

❥ level 10 robotics or level 10 logic & charisma ❥ level 7 programming ❥ level 7 handiness ❥ level 10 engineer career or level 10 business career ❥ complete aspiration ❥ get a university degree (DU) ❥ own a dog & a cat (C&D)

#sims 4 challenge #sims 4 #ts4 #iovmegumi crystal legacy challenge #crystal legacy challenge #legacy #sims 4 legacy challenge #legacy challenge #10 gen legacy #the sims 4 #the sims 4 challenges #sims 4 challenges #basegame legacy #discover university #get famous #sims 4 seasons #berry sims #sims 4 berry challenge #sims 4 berry sims

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toournextadventure · 3 months

Text

everyone but her pt.40

Summary: Wednesday is on the hunt for whoever - or whatever - is attacking everyone. She just needs to make sure you both don't get in over your heads.

Word Count: 5.4k Warnings: swearing, mentions of attacks, descriptions of a dead body (nothing graphic) Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Reader (Masterlist)

As summer approached, Wednesday was no closer to finding the culprit that had attacked Ash and Joel. It wasn’t for lack of trying, of course, that much was certain. With your assistance, she had combed the woods near the attack, had talked with Ash and Joel, and had even done some digging into the past attacks since the group had started school.

Her investigation board was packed, every inch covered in research and police reports. It didn’t even include her own notes, which were in a folder on the side table. Or it should have been; it was currently residing on the table beside your side of the bed. She supposed it was nice to know you were interested in her research.

She just wished you would be interested without displacing her things.

Though she supposed she shouldn’t complain; any time you spent at the apartment was positive. After the events of the attack, you had made sure to keep both Ash and Joel within sight. It wasn’t your usual “Let’s hang out” attitude, but the one she recognised when you first got released from prison.

The nights, she realised, were the most difficult for you. Something about it reminded Wednesday of the days immediately following Mack’s death. Those nights where you wandered around, either too afraid or too wired to sleep. Sometimes you would end up staying in bed, keeping you both awake with your incessant moving, or your wings keeping her so warm she felt she might combust.

But at least she could keep an eye on you far easier.

Wednesday’s feet were suspiciously cold when she awoke. After so many years of you sleeping by her side, her feet had grown warm during the nights. You didn’t run quite as hot as Enid, but your temperature was nothing to scoff at. She had hated it at first; you were ruining her attempt at being as close to dead as possible. But she had grown used to it, and now it was uncomfortable.

She let her eyes adjust to the dark before moving. The sounds of your light snoring, or your wings twitching were absent in the empty room. Silence, much like her cold feet, was something she now found no pleasure in. For what was a room without your presence? Even just the sounds of your breathing was enough security to continue to face the days head on. Your presence was no longer simply a gift, it was a requirement in her life.

And you were no longer sharing the space with her.

She knew where you were; Wednesday always knew where you were. You had the ability to be silent, but you were not, on your own, silent. Whether it was the sound of the shower running in the bathroom, or the almost-inaudible program you had put on the television. There was never a time, in your shared apartment, that Wednesday was unaware of where you were.

So she wasn’t the least bit surprised to hear the television on and the soft drip-drip-drip of the coffee maker when she stepped out of the bedroom. Instinct had her looking at the couch, where she would more often than not find you unconscious in the most inhuman, uncomfortable position she had ever seen. When you weren’t there, she turned to the table.

That was where she found you. Sitting at the table with a coffee mug and the laptop in front of you. The back of the laptop was facing the hallway she was standing in. Your face was illuminated by the blinding glow of the screen. Even in the dark she could see the bags under your eyes and your slumped shoulders.

There were two ways Wednesday could get you back into bed. The first, which was only occasionally her favourite, was to entice you. Sometimes all it would take was a well placed kiss, right behind your ear or between your wings. One singular kiss and, if you were both consenting, you would carry her back to bed within an instant.

At that moment, Wednesday would have been okay with it. She would have revelled in it, actually. To feel you above her, your callused hands feeling impossibly soft on her skin. The feel of your lips on her neck, even just in imagination, was enough to have her shifting her weight between her feet.

Your head fell slowly before you jerked it back up and blinked rapidly. No, it wouldn’t take a well placed kiss to get you back in bed, not at that moment. Which left Wednesday with her second option and, quite frankly, her favourite. She made sure to emphasise each step as she walked toward you. You slow blinked once, but otherwise didn’t move.

By the time she finally approached you, you had leaned back in your chair. With the ease of a veteran, she sat in your lap. Her legs hung over your thighs and she could rest her head in the crook of your neck. You smelled of coffee and the slightest hint of whiskey.

Wednesday knew you didn’t drink, not really. Especially not after the frat party. You would, however, try on occasion. It occurred most often when you were worried. There was a singular bottle of whiskey in the top cupboard; you would usually pour it into your coffee on nights like tonight. She had never worried about it because you never went beyond a single, half-hearted attempt before you replaced it with your regular coffee.

On your laptop, there were numerous tabs open. She couldn’t read every title, but the page you were on was enough; some obscure website about the different Outcasts. There was a good deal of information just on that one page alone, and Wednesday could practically feel the mental strain coming off you. You weren’t unintelligent by any means, but you had never denied your distaste in lengthy readings.

“I don’t think it’s a shapeshifter,” you said in a raspy voice as your arms wrapped around Wednesday’s waist.

“It would explain the resemblance to Bianca,” Wednesday replied. Not argumentative; she never felt the need to defend her beliefs with you.

“I talked with Ash and Joel the other day,” you said. “They said they never saw anyone, just heard voices.”

“Joel said he didn’t remember anything.” She shifted on your lap so she could look at you. “He simply woke up in the hospital.”

“He lied,” you said with a shake of your head. “He told Ajax he heard you asking him to help you with something.”

Wednesday remained silent. She could feel you tensed up beneath her, your arms squeezing around her just a little too tight for comfort. It wasn’t painful by any means, simply more secure. There was no need to question the change.

“Sirens can mimic voices,” you continued as if nothing was wrong. “I don’t think it’s all of them, but some of them can.”

“You believe a siren is at fault,” Wednesday said.

“Doesn’t explain the wounds themselves,” you sighed, “but yeah.”

One of your arms lifted and you placed it on the table. You flipped through the tabs on the screen until you landed on a different page, this one looking far more like a - what had Kent called it - a forum. She didn’t try to read through everything seeing as you scrolled too quickly, but you stopped on one of the replies.

“This person is from Latvia,” you said as you pointed at the reply with your finger. “It’s a rough translation, but they said they’ve seen sirens and fairies team up a lot.”

“Fairies,” Wednesday deadpanned. “You believe a fairy attempted to kill our friends.”

You gave her a tired smile. “You said our friends.”

“Focus,” she commanded. Thankfully, you couldn’t see the light flush on her cheeks.

“I think it’s a possibility,” you said, looking back at the laptop screen. “I’ve gotta do some more research though.”

You didn’t make any sort of move to close the laptop. In fact, you continued to scroll, looking through more posts. Wednesday hadn’t thought you meant more research at that moment. There was nothing healthy about it. Even just the shake of your fingers was enough to confirm her belief.

She lifted her hand to cup your jaw, gently turning you to face her. As usual, you didn’t dare put up any resistance. You were nothing if not compliant to her every wish. Sometimes she found it incredibly attractive how pliable you were for her. Following her every command with an eagerness that was often found when you were seeking praise.

Other times, like that moment, made her sad. You followed without question not out of an eagerness to please, but an acceptance of authority. It was the way you had been when your parents still had some form of control over you; when Nicky was still alive, even if it was in the loosest sense of the word.

“No more research tonight,” she said. It was an unusual thing to come out of her mouth; she was usually the one staying up late to do some more research.

“I have to figure it out,” you said softly.

“Not tonight,” she replied just as softly, though no less stern. You could be upset, but she wouldn’t dare let you throw yourself into an endless pit of despair. That was her job.

You didn’t utter a sound as Wednesday slid off your lap and stood up. Her fingers locked with yours and, with the gentlest of tugs, pulled you out of the chair. The trust you put in her was unparallelled. You didn’t even question her closing your laptop, or pulling you back to the bedroom.

There was also no argument as she pushed you back onto the bed. Wednesday made sure she was gentle; she didn’t want you to crush your wings or bend something into an unnatural position. Only she could bend you unnaturally. You positioned yourself to be laying on your side, as usual, which left just enough space for Wednesday to crawl into bed in front of you.

It was instinctual after that much time for your arm to wrap around her waist and pull her closer. When she slept on her own - which so rarely happened - she still slept as she used to; on her back with arms crossed over her chest. But with you? There was an unexpected comfort in being enveloped in you. Your scent, your warmth, your touch, it was all so… horrifically wonderful.

Neither one of you said another word. She felt your lips press against the back of her neck before you fully sank into the bed. There was no joy in having to find more and more creative ways to get you to take care of yourself, but she would do them without hesitation. And if she slept better with you beside her, that had nothing to do with your health. It was simply a bonus.

—---

“Tell me again why we’re out here?” You asked from behind Wednesday.

“Because,” she said without turning around, “I need to read the autopsy reports.”

“That’s so weird,” you mumbled to yourself even though she could still hear it.

Wednesday smiled internally to herself. As weird as you supposedly thought it was, you were still following her down the dark street to the police station. After hearing your theories thoroughly the morning after that night, she had started to dig deeper. You were a surprisingly thorough researcher when it was something you were passionate about. It was far more attractive than she would have anticipated.

Though all of the joint research was moot when she realised she had no idea how the two fraternity brothers had died. Yes, the police had said a werewolf had killed them, but it wouldn’t have been the first time the police had lied. You yourself were proof of how far they would go to put someone specific behind bars. She wanted to see the reports for herself.

And the only way to do that was to get them directly from the police station.

Much to Wednesday’s pleasure, you hadn’t argued when she had first brought up the idea. Although she hadn’t expected much opposition from you, she felt you would voice a concern or two. She should have known better. You were nothing if not an eager accomplice.

However, it did not guarantee you wouldn’t find something to complain about.

“You won’t let them take me to jail again, right?” You asked, thankfully quiet enough for no listening ears to hear.

“Cara mia,” she said with a smile you couldn’t see, “you look stunning behind bars, but I prefer you with me.”

Behind her, you chuckled. “Save the dirty talk for the bedroom, dear.”

Thanks to walking around in the dead of night, the usual crowd was long gone. There was something comforting about an empty street in a town full of life. Eerily ethereal to hear the silence, backed only by the creaking signs or the wind blowing between the buildings. Your footsteps were light, and she could barely hear the ruffle of your feathers.

It almost made Wednesday laugh to herself at your ability to be silent when you really wished to. In the day to day, you were loud and a bit clumsy. Not that she still had an issue with it. If anything, she almost preferred it seeing as it was easy to keep track of you. It was simply humorous how quickly and efficiently you could turn it off and on.

“Did you want me to go in?” You asked when the police station appeared. “I can cause a distraction in the lobby while you go around back.”

“They know you,” she said with a shake of her head. “It would simply tip them off.”

“Well that’s no fun,” you mumbled.

You reminded Wednesday of the old days. She had thought it on a few occasions recently, this certainly not being the first. It was an oddity now for you to be more carefree and make jokes about everything. An oddity that she wished wasn’t reality. She may never admit it aloud, but she found a spark of joy in your lightheartedness of all situations.

As you both passed the police station to go to the back where it was pitch black, she could feel the energy radiating off of you. She believed it was similar to how the athletes you watched felt before a game. Even though she didn’t turn around to confirm, she could hear your feet hitting the ground a little harder than your usual walking.

Wednesday turned around to face you once you both approached the proper location. You had both scoped it out on numerous occasions the past few days. There was a singular spot to the left of the station, right underneath a window, that was outside of every camera. All they had to do was stick to the side of the building to stay out of view until they reached the blind spot.

She didn’t hide her miniscule smile from you when she saw you jumping on your toes and shaking your hands. You very much looked like the athletes you watched, with the exception of circumstance. It was endearing to see how excited you were to break the law with her. She truly couldn’t have asked for a better partner.

Both for life and in crime.

“I’ll hoist you up,” you said as you walked over to the wall underneath the window. “You’re sneakier.”

She nodded. “Whistle if someone comes near.”

“You got it, pretty girl,” you said with a crooked smile.

It was as if something had taken over her body. Before she stepped onto your thigh, she leaned forward and kissed you. She heard you inhale sharply before leaning forward into the kiss. When she pulled away, she could still taste your lips. Too sweet coffee with a hint of the marijuana you still sporadically smoked with Kent and Ajax.

“Hurry up already,” you said as you shifted into a better position. “I want another kiss like that when we get home.”

Wednesday simply gave you a small smirk before finally stepping up onto your thigh. Thanks to you being so much taller than her, it was almost effortless to reach the window. Much to her pleasure - though not surprise - the window wasn’t locked. Perhaps they believed it was high enough off the ground to be safe. How foolish.

The only downside to the window being so high off the ground was dropping into the room. It was the filing room, and the poorly carpeted floor muffled her drop. She took just a moment to dust the invisible filth off her clothes before properly looking around and getting to work.

To no one’s surprise, it wasn’t Wednesday’s first time searching for files in a police station. She knew her way around the unsystematic filing cabinets that called the room their home. It would be a waste of time to look alphabetically; she would just have to get started on the most worn looking drawer.

Which just so happened to be the one directly to her right.

Wednesday pulled out the small flashlight you had gifted her only a few weeks ago. It was small enough to remain unnoticed, yet held a bright enough light to assist in her late-night excursions. The filing cabinet creaked when she pulled on it, but otherwise slid open smoothly. She waited a moment to make sure no one had heard before she started to dig.

If she hadn’t been so focused on her mission, she would have paid attention to everything she came across. There was no question in her mind that she would find something good, something she could dig deeper into. But she was on a sole mission to find more information on those attacks, and that’s what she was going to do.

Or so she thought, until she found a file with your name on it.

A part of her mind told her not to touch it, to leave it where it rested. There was nothing in it that she wasn’t already aware of. You had told her everything, even if it was a time after the event. Nothing was hidden between the both of you, and she would have betrayed your trust if she looked through the file.

On the other hand, she couldn’t deny her curiosity about what the police were saying about you. Wednesday wasn’t ignorant of the tactics the police used to get what they wanted. Surely they would be aware of your past seeing as it was public record. Had they found a way to spin it in their favour yet?

Against her better judgement, she reached out and took your file. It was far thicker than she had anticipated; full of loose papers and sticky notes. Her fingers flipped through page after page until she finally opened it, looking down at the handwritten notes unceremoniously taped to the page.

Her heart stopped beating when she read the one on the top left.

Connected to Malcom Riley’s murder.

A whistle from outside the window made Wednesday jump and nearly drop your file. She looked around quickly to confirm no one was around before shoving the file back into the cabinet and closing it. It was stupid to look through your file, she thought as she started climbing out of the window. She should have been looking for the thing she had gone in there for.

She could think about your file later.

“What on earth do you two think you’re doing?”

Wednesday’s feet had barely hit the ground before she heard the familiar voice. It wasn’t even a shock when she turned around and saw Weems standing in front of you, her hands on her hips. For a moment, Wednesday felt like she was back in Weems’ office at Nevermore getting scolded for leaving the grounds on a full moon.

Oh, those were wonderful days.

“I finally leave my office for the night and see you two sneaking around the police station,” Weems said. “What do you believe you’re doing?”

“Some light reading,” you said with a shrug that failed to hide your fear. “The library is closed.”

“I didn’t ask for an excuse,” Weems said harshly. No one missed your slight recoil. “What are you doing?”

“Attempting to find more clues on who has been attacking people lately,” Wednesday said.

“And you believed breaking into a police station was the wisest decision?” Weems asked.

“It’s more than the police are doing,” you said, standing taller than before. Wednesday almost swore you were a little taller than Weems now. “They don’t give a fuck anymore.”

Connected to Malcom Riley’s murder.

“It is not your responsibility to find the attackers,” Weems said. “That is solely the responsibility of the police.”

“Then make them fucking do it,” you said quickly. “All they ever seem to do nowadays is question me for shit that I didn’t do.”

Connected to Malcom Riley’s murder.

“Perhaps if you stopped putting yourself in dangerous situations, they wouldn’t be questioning you,” she said harshly.

Wednesday looked over at you. There was a hardness to your features that she couldn’t quite place. She knew Weems wasn’t entirely incorrect in her statement. A lot of the situations were coincidence, of course, but even Wednesday couldn’t deny you somehow always found yourself at the centre of things. It was an unusual change of pace, seeing how it was normally her who was in the centre of trouble.

“You must be more careful,” Weems said in a far softer tone. “The both of you.” She looked at Wednesday for a moment before looking back at you. “What would Nicky think of this recklessness?”

“I wouldn’t know,” you said as you adopted the harshness Weems had dropped. “He’s dead.”

Weems looked at you with eyes that only a mother could have. It was easy to forget how much she loved you. There hadn’t been many talks between Wednesday and Weems, not when they involved you, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t see it. Only a mother could look at you the way Weems was; Wednesday wondered if you could see it too.

“He would be very disappointed in you,” Weems said in a small voice.

Your shoulders tensed at the words. Wednesday could only imagine what was going through your head. She wanted to reach out and comfort you. Take your hand in hers and remind you that you weren��t alone. She didn’t know if Nicky would have been disappointed in you or not, but Weems would. And if she dared to voice that belief, it must have been genuine.

You shook your head slowly. “He can get in line.”

Wednesday and Weems watched as you walked off, back to the sidewalk and, supposedly, starting the walk back to the apartment. She wanted to follow you and confirm you were alright. Well, alright, she was no professional with emotions but even she could tell you weren’t alright. At least she could make sure you were safe.

“She’s bound to get herself killed at this rate,” Weems said quietly with a shake of her head. “And I don’t know how to help.”

Wednesday stayed silent. Not out of the stubbornness she so often fell into, but out of not having a single thing to say. As much as Wednesday hated agreeing with Weems - out of principle - she did. She wasn’t quite convinced you would get yourself killed, but you would certainly get yourself hurt. Or in trouble. Or possibly both.

“Please look after her,” Weems said, and Wednesday finally looked her in the eye. “She loves and respects you enough to let you.”

Wednesday didn’t know what to say to that. She opted instead to nod in agreement. It seemed to be enough for Weems, who reached out to place a hand on her shoulder and give it a gentle squeeze. Part of Wednesday wished she would pull her into a hug. The thought quickly disappeared when it caught up with her that she did not like hugs.

You were turning her soft.

Weems bid her a goodnight as they both headed in opposite directions. Thankfully, Wednesday caught up with you at the apartment. However, what should have been the end of the night was turning into something else. Instead of your usual pouting and hiding in the room, you were rummaging around the apartment.

“What are you looking for?” She asked when you slammed the closet door shut.

“Your shovel,” you said. “It’s not in the closet anymore.”

She walked over to the bed and knelt down. The wooden floor was rough on her knees, but she quickly grabbed the shovel from underneath the bed and stood back up. Her skin pulled tight before relaxing again, and the ache around her knees quickly subsided. Only once it had eased did she hold the shovel out to you.

“Why do you need it?” She asked as you grabbed it and shoved it into your duffle bag.

Which also held a crowbar and what looked to be two flashlights.

“You remember our first date?” You asked as you stood up straight.

She thought back to all those years ago. “Yes,” she said slowly, “you took me gravedigging.” It had single handedly been the most amazing date she had ever been on. She would never forget it, in life or death.

“We’re recreating it,” you said with a closed mouth smile.

You hoisted the bag over your shoulder and grabbed her hand with yours. She didn’t have any time to protest or question you further before you started pulling her out of the apartment. A small part of her mind told her to convince you to go back inside and sleep off your emotions.

The much larger part was ecstatic to go gravedigging once again.

The streets were still empty as you made your way through town. Wednesday took note of how much more careful you were being; staying away from the street lights and cutting through alleys when necessary. It was admirable how you were sticking to the dark even when she knew you had the slightest fear of it.

“Here,” you said when you pulled her to the open, ungated graveyard. “Should only need one of them.”

You set the duffle bag on the ground and opened it, quickly pulling out the travel shovel you had also gotten her in the past. Now that Wednesday thought about it, you seemed to get her a lot of suspicious looking items. They were all things that she adored, but most would find it suspicious.

She loved that you always knew what she would want.

“Are you sure I can have the honours?” She asked as she placed the tip of the shovel into the dirt.

“It’s all yours, darling,” you said with a full smile that showed off the slight glint of your slightly larger than normal canines.

For the third time that night alone, Wednesday didn’t bother hiding her own small smile. You certainly knew how to woo an Addams. She didn’t even hesitate before pushing the shovel into the dirt and got to work excavating.

You kept a look out for any potential passersby. If you felt someone was near, you placed a hand on her shoulder to keep her still; only once the potential threat was gone did you let go and allow her to continue. Luckily for you both, she was a professional. She made quick work of the grave before hitting the top of the casket.

“Here,” you said as you squatted down and handed her the crowbar. “Make it fast, the keeper might come to work soon.”

Wednesday took the tool from you and shoved it into the thin crack of the casket. It only took a slight amount of effort before popping open, and you craned your neck to peer in. The smell was immediate, but it was such a lovely scent. Behind her, you did your best to hide your cough, and out of respect she ignored it.

“That’s nasty,” you mumbled even as you continued to look. “Check out the wounds.”

The body itself was already decomposing. It would be more difficult to tell the differences between wounds, but when you handed Wednesday a camera, she knew your intent. The first flash was enough to startle the both of you, and you looked around frantically to ensure no one had noticed. Only once you were certain did you nod for her to continue.

Wednesday took more photos, making sure to document every injury she could see. She moved clothing aside and took photos to be certain she covered every inch of skin possible. If she wanted to find the culprit, she would need solid evidence. Once she was completely sure she was finished, she closed the casket back up. You held your hand out for her to grab and pulled her out with ease.

She loved to see your strength in action.

“Let’s cover him back up,” you said as you started using your hands to push the dirt back into the grave. “I’m not getting arrested for grave robbing.”

It only took a few moments of frantic shovelling to fill the grave once again. Once full, you shoved everything back into the duffle bag and grabbed Wednesday’s hand, pulling her into a light jog back to the apartment. It was just early enough in the morning that a few building lights were starting to turn on as their occupants got ready for work.

“I’ll print them off,” you said the moment you shut the door to the apartment behind you. “Give me just a moment.”

Wednesday knew your determination wasn’t coming from a sense of wanting to know who the culprit was. She wasn’t in the place to have you explain. At the moment, you were keeping yourself busy, and she would allow it. Now that you were both back in the apartment, she couldn’t complain too much. At least you were safe.

While you were working on printing off the photos for her board, she sat on the couch and finally, finally started to consider what she had seen at the police station. That handwritten note had been bouncing around her head all night, and she wasn’t sure what to think of it.

You had been devastated about Mack’s death. If she was to compare, you were almost as devastated as Nicky’s death. Something about it had shaken you up to your core, and it had taken you months to sort out your grief. How could they possibly believe you were involved?

“Got it,” you said, pulling Wednesday from her thoughts.

She stood up and walked over to the table as you laid the photos out. Some were blurry and unusable, but most were of decent enough quality that you could see the individual injuries. The lacerations covered the torso and face, and they very much looked like claw marks.

To the untrained eye, at least.

When Wednesday looked closer, she noticed a few discrepancies. There were only three lacerations in each spot; from what she had seen on Enid’s wolf out, a werewolf paw would cause four lacerations. Then the depth varied from each injury, leaving not even an ounce of uniformity.

“What?” You asked when Wednesday stood up and sighed.

“You’re right,” she said, “it’s not a werewolf.”

“Was I right about the fairy shit?” You asked. “Because if so that’s cool as hell, it was a longshot.”

“No,” she said. “I don’t believe it’s a fairy.”

You looked disappointed even though you had already admitted you knew it was unlikely.

“What is it?” You asked again, leaning back over the pictures to attempt to see what she had.

“I believe they came from a knife,” Wednesday said.

You stood up slowly and looked down at her.

“The police said it was a werewolf,” you said.

The muscles in your jaw tensed as you looked back down at the photos. It seemed the police had lied to the entirety of the town. Which meant they had surely lied about other things in the process.

Which meant it was just you and Wednesday against the police.

This was going to be fun.

#wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams imagine #wednesday imagine #jenna ortega x reader #everyone but her au

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lanaslovelyletters · 2 months

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𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐝 ³

𝐑𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬...

Anakin x Princess!Reader

Part 3

Previous chapter: Part 2

Overall series warning: 18+ content (smut), mature themes, swearing

Warnings: Light swearing (but who cares about this)

Last chapter recap: “The dark lord completely ignored your question, letting himself calm down before backing off and walking towards the door. Before he left, he got a final word in, “We’re to wed in a week. You’ll stay here until then.” What..?”

Summary: He continues to fend off your questions until you decide to be bold, to which he retaliates…

Word Count: 1.5K+

Author’s note: So many people asked to be on the taglist and ily guys ugh❤️ Also, sorry for going AWOL. Had a lot of stuff on my plate<3 Btw, for everyone on the taglist, don’t worry if you change your username. If I tagged you before, I can tag you again<3

Taglist: @blackthorngirl @formula1mount @bby-imasociopath @anakinsbaee @darthgloris @tatumrileyslover @itzmeme @lunalitva @marvellover98 @rorysbrainrot @moonlight-dreamer04 @kittyrumbl3r @itsoneofusworld

“You’re not being serious.” You scoffed, almost grinning, but when you saw the look on his face— everything melted into dread and disappointment. He stared at you with stern-looking eyes before shutting the door behind him. You heard sharp noises emerge from the door, meaning he locked it.

“You’ve got to be joking.” You laughed dryly before your body hit the bed. It was fluffy and felt like a warm hug. A stark contrast to the situation you found yourself stuck in. It was unbelievable, really. You were seriously to marry a Sith Lord. A slave to the dark side. Sure, he was handsome, but only as handsome as an apple could be.

Alas, you were far too tired to think about the whole ordeal. Your eyes grew heavy and it was becoming increasingly harder not to nod off… and finally, it grew all black.

(Break)

You woke up to the darkness of space creeping in through the single window you had in the room. It was impossible to tell how long you’d slept and how long you’d be staying there. Nobody would tell you a thing, and the Dark Lord would certainly never give you any answers.

A sudden knock pulled you out of your little trance, and the door burst open. In walked two troopers. They marched in, picking you up from the bed with a strong force. Didn’t Vader mention I’d stay here for a week? What’s going on? Ironically enough, you decided not to struggle or fight back. It’s not as if going back home was a choice anymore. You knew the dark side wasn’t forgiving anyway.

“I’m not a rag doll. I know how to walk,” you complained, as you felt your body sliding across the cold, polished floor. When there was no response, you scoffed. It was loud enough for them to hear, but it wasn’t like they cared. They were simply following orders like mindless robots. It was as if it was their input.

After passing through several corridors and riding multiple elevators, you finally found yourself being dragged along to a dimly lit dining room. The layout was nothing fancy. A large table and chairs to go along with it. On one end sat Vader. He still donned his pitch-black suit, with his eyes trained on you. The way his hair fell around his face and the way his Adam’s Apple bopped as he gazed at you— it was to swoon over. You were made to sit opposite him. You didn’t dare move. You knew he could end me with the flick of his fingers.

“I hope you have an appetite.” Maker, his voice. It was rough yet smooth, velvety yet rigid… you were drowning in the octaves.

“Not much of an appetite when I’ve just been taken hostage.” No, you couldn’t give in. He was handsome to be sure, but he was still a ruthless sith.

“Hostage? You’re not a hostage, love.” Love. What was he playing at?

“I’m… not?” Your eyebrows were furrowed along with a scrunch of your nose.

“Hostage implies you’re here against your will and that I await someone to negotiate for you… I plan to keep you.” Though his words seemed daring and almost devious, his facial expression and tone told you a different story. He was a wall. Cold and without feeling. He seemed serious and determined.

“Why me? How did you know my father? Why did you want my family killed?” You furrowed your eyebrows. His gaze remained fixed on you, as he breathed heavily and got up from his seat. His boots hit the floor in a threatening manner. When he stopped in front of you, his gloved hand held your chin softly. So soft that you almost felt comfortable in his presence.

“Curiosity killed the cat, princess.” As you let your head be lifted ever so gently, you saw the stark contrast between his touch and his demeanour. His stare was blank and icy. It was as if no life existed behind his eyes. Eyes that were otherwise so… never mind.

“Luckily, I’m not a cat,” Bold. Quite bold. Did you care? No. You had about as much control over him as he did you. He wasn’t going to kill you. No, if he wanted to, he would’ve done so in a heartbeat. He wanted to wed you. To have you as his bride. As sickening as the idea of that was, at least you wouldn’t die anytime soon.

“You’re quite carefree for someone who’s lost her entire family and been taken against her will.” You could’ve sworn you saw a faint smirk swiftly make an appearance before being washed out by his brooding expression.

Oh, but there was something about his face. It did seem familiar. You couldn’t place your finger on it. There wasn’t anything that stood out in particular, but oh there was something about his face.

“I’m talking to you,” he spoke in a rough voice, before tightening his grip on your face, burying his fingers into your cheeks

“I’m not scared of you, Sith.” A grin. His lips contorted into a wide smile as he let out a scoff,

“You’ve got moxie. I’ll give you that.” Your eyes met his. Force, if I had ever seen a man—

“Moxie? I beg to differ. Why would I be scared of a lowly Sith Lord like you? You’re not even the emperor. Are you even strong enough to—”

“Princess,” he breathed as he snaked his hand tightly around your neck, the pads of his fingers snuggled themselves into your soft skin. The tension was palpable. It could be cut with a knife. The way you continued to defy him and resist him…he hated it. You were such a pretty little thing, but so stubborn too. Too set in your ways.

“We all have our… limits. You’re starting to test mine, your highness.” Something about him addressing you as ‘highness’ clashed so hard with the circumstances you found yourself in; it gave you whiplash.

“I want answers…” your whisper came out shaky. Not because you were starting to lose your footing. No, it was his grip on your throat. If anything, you almost found him humorous. He was creating a paradox and running around in circles; essentially embarrassing himself.

“I don’t want to give you any.” You didn’t understand. You couldn’t. His logic was deeply flawed and there was no wrapping your head around where it started or ended. It was a mess. A tangled mystery for you to sit and braid together to form a clear path.

“I don’t want to marry you, but here we are.”

“Let me rephrase. I can’t.” His gaze diverted to the floor. He was clearly struggling. Either to recall or decide whether or not to do so.

“I don’t understand.” Your throat was slowly released, as he walked towards the door to the room.

“Can you at least tell me why you chose me? Out of all the women in this galaxy… Why me?” Your feet had somehow carried you off to go after him. He walked with purpose through several corridors, taking swings and turns to try and throw you and the question off.

“Please?” Admittedly, you were getting impatient. Desperate.

“Say, would you like to know how I went about ending your father’s life?” He suddenly turned around with a menacing look on his face. It wasn’t maniacal. It was as if you were staring into a blank wall.

“Excuse me?” What the hell is wrong with him? Your eyes darted to the floor before you lifted your head back up to meet his.

“I asked you if you wanted to know how I killed your father. How I—“

“No, I heard you the first time. How does that have anything to do with my question?” He smirked for a moment before his smile faltered,

“You’re completely unphased. Didn’t think the king was that much of a horrible father.” How could he address your father like that? With that knowledge? How did he know your father like that?

“Yeah, well… he was. So give me an answer to my question. Why me?” The two of you stopped in front of a large white door. It had a face recognition lock on it.

“Because… I know you.” His voice dropped an octave as he stared at your reaction. You weren’t shocked, just confused.

He scanned his face and the entrance to a dark room was revealed. You were just about to follow him before he turned around,

“Do you wish to retire with me for the night?” What? Your brow bunched up together and you lightly shook your head,

“No… of course not.”

“Then I suggest you stop following me.” A grin was apparent on his lips.

“Evening, princess.” The door closed behind him and you were left standing there; completely dumbfounded. However, this unlocked a window for you to walk around freely, trying to find a way to escape. There didn’t seem to be any stormtroopers around. Marrying a Sith was that of nightmare fuel. It didn’t matter how gorgeously his hair fell around his face and how his scar elevated his overall appearance. He was a Sith Lord.

You needed to find a way out. By all means necessary.

To be continued…

Please DM, comment, or ask to be added on the taglist<3

Here’s the masterlist<3

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 2 months

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Night Moves Timestamp: Moving Day

Request: Hmmmm what about Night Moves? Or how soon before she asked Dean to move in with her?

Night Moves Masterlist

Pairing: AU!Dean x reader

Word Count: 600ish

Warnings: language

__________

“What are you doing?” asked Benny with a laugh, leaning against the back of his truck as you grunted. “I thought we told you to let us boys handle the heavy stuff.”

“I can help,” you said, reaching forward for the box again until Benny threw an arm around your waist and picked you up. “Benjamin!”

“Oh, somebody’s in trouble,” teased Jess, laughing as Benny carried you through the front door and out through the sliding door to the deck. “Not sure which one of you though.”

“Him!” you said with a growl.

“Deano will kill me if his girl gets hurt trying to lift that heavy old box,” said Benny.

“Oh my...why doesn’t Dean have scrawny friends!” you said, squirming a little as Benny carried you into the backyard, plopping you down at the shed where Dean was putting a few things away.

“Delivery service for Mr. Winchester,” said Benny, Dean poking his head out with a smile. “Watch this one.”

“I thought you were taking a break,” said Dean, crossing his arms.

“We’re almost done,” you said, swinging your arms around, spinning back around. You started to walk back around the house, Dean humming behind you. You glanced over your shoulder, Dean wearing a smirk. You made a dash for it and got to the front yard before he was picking you up, laughing as he spun you around a few times. He carried you around around the cars to see Benny and Sam carrying the box you tried to get.

“Oh, you tried to get that one? That’s got like a crap ton of books in it, sweetheart,” he said. “Put it in the office guys!”

“We better be getting pizza and beer after this one!” called back Sam.

“You moved like four boxes,” said Dean with scoff.

“We moved your entire apartment!” said Sam.

“Pfft,” said Dean, waving him off. Jess poked her head outside, laughing at you again.

“Oh, now I definitely know you were the trouble maker,” she said. Dean set you down, giving you a smirk as you grabbed her hand and pulled her inside in your house. “So...how long before I get to be maid of honor?”

“We moved in together. We’re not engaged...yet,” you said.

“Uh huh,” she said. “I give him two more weeks.”

“He moved in because his lease is up and Benny’s place is too small,” you said, cocking your head at her.

“No, he moved in because he’s in love with you. A months tops before he proposes,” she said.

“Would you go figure out how much pizza and stuff I need to order, please?” you asked. She hummed as you headed outside again, Dean sitting on the trunk of Baby, staring out at the street. “Dean? You alright?”

“Is this too fast?” he asked, patting the space beside him for you. You climbed up, Dean taking your hand in his. “We’ve only been dating a few months and the guys today have made so many jokes and I know they’re just jokes but-”

“Do you love me?” you asked. Dean nodded. “Well I love you too. I don’t see anything wrong with two people that love each other wanting to live together.”

“But even the I love you’s came so fast and that’s not normal and-”

“And we met on a hookup with some backseat sex. Our relationship has never been normal and I don’t think we should judge ourselves based on what other people think,” you said. “If we’re good, we’re good.”

“I am looking forward to living with you,” he said, squeezing your hand.

“Me too,” you said.

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#dean #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #dean fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean x cas #winchester #dean fluff #dean supernatural #dean spn #dean winchester x

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stories-and-chaos · 2 months

Text

Shrike: Deal Makers

[Hazbin Hotel reader insert as Alastor’s “darling life and death partner” Ace x ace relationship, both parties are moderately sex favorable.]

[One shot, word count 3629, Cw: violence, blood, death, attempted assault, cursing]

——————

The sounds of Pentagram City, gunshots, screams, and explosions, were a vague drone from within your home. Alastor was perusing the newspaper while you looked over the selection on the bookshelf. You’d read all the books at least once. Many were worn from being read multiple times over the decades. None of them was immediately appealing though.

You heard the crackle of radio static as your husband noticed your hesitation. The lanky demon set aside the paper to focus on you. “Trouble deciding my dear?” he asked, the hint of amusement in his voice telling you he had thought of something interesting.

You looked over at him, relaxing at the breakfast table. “Just a bit bored darling. Anything in the news I should know?” You poured yourself some coffee before sitting across from him.

“Hmm, nothing unusual. The rabble securing space before Extermination Day.” The yearly event was roughly a month away and demons were stepping up their preparations. It was similar to humans boarding up their homes before an incoming hurricane. You couldn’t stop the force of nature (or Heaven), you had to try to weather through it. “I’ll admit I’m feeling some ennui myself.” He sipped his coffee before continuing.

“Although…I did have a thought for some entertainment, cher,” he mused, his smile becoming more of a smirk as he raised an eyebrow temptingly.

“Really? Do share Alastor, don’t leave me in suspense.” You leaned forward, both elbows on the table as you cupped your mug in both hands.

His grin widened. “We know how desperate demons get around now, yes? Souls are easy pickings. So, let’s play a game my dear Y/N.” Your eyes brightened at the prospect and you could feel your wings rustling in anticipation. He continued, “Let’s have a contest between the two of us, cher. Who can acquire the most souls before Extermination Day? The one who loses…” he glanced around your home, trying to think of a consequence.

“The one with fewer new souls does all the dishes for a month. By hand,” you suggested. Neither of you enjoyed washing dishes and being able to use your wind or his shadow tentacles made the chore moderately tolerable.

The two of you had played other games and contests in your afterlife. The stakes for losing were ultimately low between you. You were partners after all. Trapping one’s partner in a deal had no appeal to yourself or Alastor.

Deal making with any other demon? That was entertainment.

“Excellent!” His ears perked up and his antlers stretched slightly as he agreed. This would be a perfect way to alleviate your boredom.

An hour later, the two of you strolled together to a plaza in your shared territory. Alastor took your hand and pressed your talons to his lips. “Bonne chance, cher.”

You used a bit of wind to raise you up so you could easily give him a peck on the cheek. “May the best Overlord win.” You backed up enough not to knock him over with your downdraft and took to the sky. Alastor twirled his cane and strolled off in another direction, humming in amusement.

It was times like this that you missed Husk’s casino. It had been an easy hunting ground. You tend to ensnare souls over time. Offer something small that they desperately wanted. Again and again, building up favors with the other demon. Eventually the favors could only be paid with their soul. Or if they had managed to keep their debt to you to a minimum, they would come to a point where what they wanted wasn’t something small. And if you could provide multiple small deals, surely you could make a substantial deal with them, even if it meant their soul.

The casino had been perfect for that, giving you ample opportunity to tempt Sinners with enough cash for another hand or another roll of the dice. And they always came back for more. A favor to a delicate little thing like you was essentially free.

Until it wasn’t.

But sadly, Alastor owned Husk now and his casino was safely tucked away amid dozens of other strongholds of former Overlords. So you had to find other places to play the game.

Of course there were other places to gamble in Hell. But you didn’t have the same understanding with the proprietors; waltzing in to offer collateral to desperate patrons wasn’t encouraged. Bars and drug dens had just as many degenerate souls craving funds you could offer.

At the moment however, the whole city was clawing to avoid Extermination Day. Being out on the streets was second suicide. If you couldn’t secure a hiding place on your own, working for someone who could provide one was the best option. Protection was worth more than money for the majority.

While Alastor looked like a powerful Overlord, you weren’t immediately intimidating. Sometimes you wished you were of a similar mold to Carmilla or Zeezi. Few doubted them, their presence was so powerful. You were what you were however. You hadn’t let your form stop you yet.

Landing in a distant section of the pentagram, you kept your eyes and ears open for potential opportunities as you walked. Sure enough, you found a perfect chance. And it reminded you of how you met Alastor.

A much more run down neighborhood than you frequented, the Sinners here had no issue with committing atrocities in the streets. Case in point; a trio of demons cornered a much smaller one. “You don’t wanna be all alone on Extermination Day, do you babe?” one of them said. He looked like a skeleton held together by acidic gel. One bony hand was pressed against the wall, cutting off the small cat-like demon’s escape.

The cornered demon shook his head mutely, his eyes pinning in fear. One of the other Sinners, this one a blue and orange cyclops, spotted you. “Whatcha looking at birdie? You can come along too, you’re cute enough.” The third demon moved to grab your arm in a lizard claw. His yellowed scales gleamed as he swung you up to the wall.

You could have broken away, but where was the fun in that? Besides, this was an opportunity to establish yourself in this area.

“Oooo, two for one special. C’mon bitches, we’ll keep you nice and safe from the big bad angels. All you gotta do is work for us.” The skeleton grinned, a green haze leaking between his teeth. “Couple cuties like you, we’ll make you bigger stars than that spider twink.”

The demon next to you shrank into himself, unconsciously hiding behind your wing. You put on a concerned air. “Oh mais la cher, I don’t think you can keep yourselves safe. You all look rather…what’s the word…pathetic, that’s it!” The cat demon looked at you like you were insane.

“What the fuck did you say?”

“I said you all looked pathetic. Weak? Unable to perform? I can go on.” The skeleton pulled back his arm to slap you. Or he tried. The instant he moved, you produced a stiletto that you jammed into his throat. He stumbled back, blade dislodging, with green fluid bubbling out from this mouth and neck wound.

“Bones!” the cyclops yelped as the gel melted away from the demon. That was his name?! You felt more than justified removing such a cliche punk from the afterlife. Before he could do more than yell, you thrust the blade into his giant orange eye. It was a much more convenient target than the man you first killed decades ago. Retinal fluid gushed out as he screamed, flailing at the stiletto.

The lizard demon backed away. “Fuck this shit!” He skittered away on all fours, disappearing into the sparse crowd. You let him go. Dead demons told no tales after all. If you wanted demons looking to you for protection, then you needed tales to spread.

Your talons had fluid splashed all over. “Ew,” you said mildly. The gore didn’t scare you, you’d gotten over that fear in life. But that didn’t mean you enjoyed being covered in it. You flicked your hands back and forth, a bit of wind helping to get the worst off and dry your hands.

The cyclops continued to moan in pain next to the pile of bones that was his buddy. You delicately sidestepped around him, avoiding the splatter of blood and fluid he was making as he thrashed around. “W-w-wait! Wait wait please!” came a shaky call from behind you.

You couldn’t help but grin before twirling around. The cat demon had stumbled forward, reaching for you. “You…you saved me.”

“I suppose I did. You’re welcome, cher,” you said in an airy tone as you started to move away.

“No, please! Help me! I’m not gonna make it through Extermination Day, please I’ll do anything!” he called, fear mixing with hope in his voice. Apparently he was having a very bad time in Hell and saw you as a lifeline.

“Anything? That’s quite a lot to offer to a demon you just met.” You faced him fully. Drawn by the cyclop’s cries and the sense of drama, a small crowd started to gather. “What’s your name?”

“André.”

“Y/N, the Singing Shrike.” There was a murmur in the crowd as some recognized your name. “If you’re willing to offer anything to an Overlord, then I’m willing to make a deal. My protection for your soul.” You held out your hand, still stained with retinal fluid and now emitting a silver light. “Do we have a deal?”

André’s ears flattened as he looked back and forth between your hand and the two demons, one dead and one dying, at your feet. “It’s a deal.” He clasped your hand firmly with his paw. There was a swirl of wind around you both that formed into a collar and chain on your new subordinate’s neck. It was only visible for a second. That’s one, you thought in satisfaction.

“Wonderful!” you chirped, clapping your hands once. “It’s always a delight to form new bonds, is it not? Now then, I’m feeling a bit parched. Let’s find something to drink while we discuss your future André.”

The reality of what he’d just done seemed to be sinking in, but he followed you anyway. It took a couple of blocks of walking before you found a decent looking coffee shop. You ordered two coffees, settled at an outdoor table and gestured at André to sit with you. The coffee was decent and you sipped the hot liquid before focusing on the cat demon.

“Now then. I’m sure you didn’t wake up this morning planning to sell your soul. You’re welcome to live and work wherever you like, so long as you understand that when I call you, you will be there. Follow my orders and we’ll get along fine. Now, what are your skills?”

It turned out he was a stage actor. He’d only been in Hell for a year and a half. The prospect of trying to survive Extermination Days every year made him a literal scaredy cat. Finding out he was an actor was a bonus. “That is perfect. Most of my followers are performers, you’ll fit right in, cher.” You penned an address on a card. “One of the theaters in my district. They’re auditioning after Extermination Day. I can set you up in our territory or you can keep staying where you are. Either way, I’ll call you on the Day to hold up my end of the deal.”

With that you sent him on his way; he said he’d take a look at your territory before deciding. Now you could drink your coffee and wait.

Before long, a female Sinner that had been in the crowd approached you. She looked like a luna moth, soft fluff and light green wings. “Miss Y/N? Are… are you… willing to make other deals?”

“Depending on the terms and the demon. Take a seat, cher, let’s talk.”

By the end of the day, you had five more souls in addition to André. The area you had come to wasn’t currently in dispute, but whoever was in charge was not doing a great job of maintaining any kind of order. So a decent handful were looking for someone, anyone, that could offer more security.

You were back home before Alastor and decided to start preparing dinner. Shrimp and grits sounded perfect after a day of negotiations. Alastor seemed to agree when he arrived. Over dinner the two of you compared your days.

Unsurprisingly, he had a slight number advantage already. But the game had just started and you weren’t about to concede to a mere three soul lead. He’d made a deal with a demon struggling to maintain a few blocks of territory. Once Alastor had the leader on a leash, the few souls he’d owned became Alastor’s as well.

For his part, your husband was thrilled at your disposal of two lowlifes and the lure you’d set in that area. “You’ve come a long way from a singer with a hat pin my dear.”

“So have you darling, from a radio host stalking the night with a knife.”

The month passed. Some days you returned to where you acquired André. Word had spread and other Sinners looking to avoid a second death came to offer their souls for safety. Other days you did offer small deals in other areas, building up to gaining a soul.

Some of your new demons spread word to their friends. And others heard of you from the lizard demon you let escape. Including the wannabe ruler of the neighborhood you were siphoning souls from.

There was a week left before Extermination Day and the end of your contest with Alastor. You had returned to the coffee shop you’d essentially taken over for negotiations. The owner had actually made a deal with you not too long ago, after witnessing you make so many without abusing your new subordinates. So she now had a source of better coffee and new machines due to be installed after Extermination Day. In the meantime she kept you and whoever joined your table supplied with drinks and snacks.

The crowd of Sinners approaching you now didn’t look like they were coming to negotiate however. They looked ready for a fight. One of the baristas whispered, “That’s the leader of the area and his gang, Miss.” You finished your drink and handed the cup to them. “Have everyone stay inside until I come in, cher.” The barista gladly dashed in the shop. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the workers and customers within scuttling about.

You leaned back in the metal chair as they came up to your table. The group of roughly a dozen demons was led by a skeleton with poisonously purple gel attaching all his joints. Fluid bubbled within the rib cage and a dull blue haze surrounded his shoulders. You simply waited, talons interlaced.

Your silence and slight smile irritated the tall creature. He was used to small female demons being intimidated by him and his goons. Evidently your calm was unnerving.

“So you're the bitch stealing all my people huh?” he finally hissed at you.

You tilted your head, “That’s a very interesting definition of ‘stealing.’ It’s rather difficult to steal something that doesn’t belong to anyone. And I can’t really blame any of the residents for coming to me after seeing the state of things here.”

He slammed a fist on the table, denting it. “First you kill my cousin, then you snatch away my people and now you insult me? I’m gonna show you your place girlie.”

His crowd of sycophants started hyping him up: “You tell her boss, fuck that bitch up, show her whatcha got Knuckles, she’s gotta pay for Bones.” This fool’s name was Knuckles? This lot was just sad if they couldn’t think of anything better.

The haze around his shoulders turned into flames as the bones of his hands grew. More flames erupted along his arms and fingers as his hands turned into spiked boxing gloves.

In response, you summoned dozens of stilettos into the air. They glimmered briefly before launching at the group. Squishy thuds were followed by cries of pain as the blades found their targets; eyes, throats, guts. Knuckles whipped his head around at his crew suddenly dropping in a dozen bloody messes.

You stood up, made sure of your footing, and leapt at the surprised bag of bones. You were too close to manage a flip, but a stab to the torso worked just fine. Or so you thought. As the leader stumbled down, carried by your momentum along with the sudden pain, the gel holding him together spewed fluid from the wound.

All that vibrant color was for a reason you realized as your hand burned with whatever the bastard was filled with splashed on your hand. “Fuck!” You kneed the skeleton in the jaw, sending him flat on his back, before quickly making a little whirlwind around your hand to get the fluid off.

Hissing through the pain, you planted a heeled foot on his skull. “Do you own any souls?” you asked roughly. Amazing how well the skeleton could show fear and confusion. You repeated the question, enunciating each word. He shook head. “Mais la, too bad.” You pulled your foot back slightly, turning his head. Then you kicked sharply with a gust for added power, twisting his head away and snapping his neck.

Stepping into the coffee shop, you called out, “All clear ladies and gentlemen. Zoe,” you gestured to the owner, “I need your last aid kit and the sink. And someone to clean up the mess.” You ran your burned hand under the water for a good twenty minutes, making sure you got all the acid(?) off. It was definitely a chemical burn but it was superficial. It would just hurt like a bitch.

Zoe helped you pay the area dry and wrap it in a clean bandage. “Are you going home Miss?” she asked nervously. You could guess any of the skeleton’s cronies that you hadn’t killed would be out for revenge once they realized he was dead. It was barely after lunch so there was ample time in the day for word to spread.

“And miss out on the next act?” You laughed as you settled back into your seat outside. “What kind of Overlord would I be if I left the job half done?” Only four demons came looking for trouble, but without you there that would have been even one too many.

Three joined their former boss in a heap of bodies. One, yet another gel connected skeleton with a blue color scheme, took a look at the pile of corpses, and decided selling his soul to you was the better option. Once you had the former grunt under your talon, you felt you could leave safely. You summoned a demon that had been with you for years. The hawk demon was used to being your occasional muscle. So you left the two of them to guard the shop. Meanwhile the body clean up decided burning the pile was their best option, especially with the acid skeleton mixed in. As you took off, they were lighting the gasoline drenched corpses on fire.

Alastor was home before you. Once he saw your bandaged hand he insisted on inspecting the wound. “Cher, how did this happen?” He asked, brows knitted as he unwrapped the bandage.

“Folly on my part. I didn’t realize the acidic looking demon was in fact, acidic.” Alastor examined the area and determined it was superficial as you thought. He applied ointment and rebandaged your hand. “At least now that I’ve killed that excuse for a gang leader it will be easier to acquire souls. I’ve got to close your lead cher.”

Your husband returned to the jambalaya he was preparing. “Are you still up to the contest my dear? I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to call it off now.”

“Of course I am!” You smacked the table with your good hand. “I’m not about to let a little injury stop me! I’m having too much fun.”

Your prediction was accurate. Without the neighborhood’s erstwhile leader and Extermination Day less than a week away, already desperate demons were losing their shit. You kept your new muscle, Calve, with you. He proved to be a decent informant. He resented you of course; you’d taken out his whole gang including his cousins. Your charm wore him down and by the end of the week he had a grudging respect for you.

Extermination Day arrived. The night before you had ensconced all your new souls into your territory. Doors and windows were fortified; the angels liked easy pickings and extra barriers meant they often went looking for other targets. It was only when they couldn’t find demons in the open that they started breaking down entrances.

In relative safety, you and Alastor finished your final tallies. 122 new souls for you and 124 for him. The last six days had helped you catch up but he still managed to squeak by a win.

“Ah, I do feel bad, making you wash all the dishes when your hand is still injured,” he mused as screams filled the air outside.

You examined your freshly bandaged hand. “Well, if you are that concerned, you can continue with the chore until I’m healed up. Should only be a few more days. I’ll even add a few days onto my end as an apology.”

“Hmm,” Alastor hummed, thinking it over. He grinned as another shriek pierced the air. “It’s a deal.”

———————

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