#i had a great time with this and i hope that even though i didn't quite honor the letter of the prompt the spirit is still there!

[celiababy]

Ain't Right part 3

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel thinks you deserve better.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT MDNI, age gap (56/20), swearing, unprotected p in v, fingering, oral f!receiving, cockwarming, size kink, skinny dipping, angsty, kinda asshole/grumpy Joel, mention of alcohol

Celia's note: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG OMG. but i threw in that much request angst i hope yall enjoy!!!!! Also happy valentines day!!! peace n luv fr

Aint Right part 1 Ain't Right part 2

Recently, life has been great for you.

Winter was gone as fast as it came, and spring started to take root in Jackson. Your favorite season.

The months that passed since Christmas had been like a dream. You and Joel's relationship had been all unicorns and rainbows—well, to you, anyway.

Finally, you were starting to pry open the gates to Joel's thoughts. Becoming close with him meant so much to you, even when he would off-handedly share information about himself by accident, you'd immediately commit it to long-term memory.

He didn't like to talk about himself much, but when he did, you were all ears.

Joel, on the other hand, didn't have to try as hard with you.

There was a constant flow of words out of your mouth, especially around him. You couldn't help it, really. You talked when you were nervous, and you were always nervous around Joel—that never went away.

But all in all, you were overflowing with happiness.

Joel, however, was feeling a little differently.

Ever since this relationship with you started, he's had this subtle ache about it.

His insecurities of being an old man were eating at him, day by day. His conscious just couldn't stop pestering him with the idea that you deserved better.

He felt that by being intimate with you, as much as he liked it, was holding you back from living your life.

By allowing you to indulge in this relationship with him, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was setting your life up for failure.

He was picturing some White Fang situation where you were some wild animal that was getting too close to him, and in order to prevent you from getting hurt by domestication, he'd have to throw rocks at you and tell you to 'go on an' git'. Even though he deeply cared about you.

These insecurites really came to the surface whenever you two were in bed together.

He was 56 years old, for crying out loud. He had two rounds in him max, anything more might give him a heart attack.

He'd clock the little disappointed pout you'd make when he couldn't go again, even when you tried to act otherwise. He was just in his head about the entire thing—which was so unlike him.

You were doin' things to him, thats for damn sure.

Joel couldn't deny the affect you had on him anymore. You were starting to become a top priority; he was unable to stop himself from putting you first.

How was it so easy for you to become to important in his life?

He pondered this thought while coming back from a supply run, riding in on horseback. The sound of hooves crunching twigs and rocks was an oddly theraputic sound, one that helped stop him from thinking so much.

Upon his return, Joel drops off his supplies and guides his horse back into its stable. He gives it a few loving pats before leaving, walking down the main road with the breeze in his hair.

His eyes scan the people crowding the streets, hoping to catch a glimpse of his favorite face.

And he does.

Eventually, Joel spots you, helping an older lady up her porch steps. You’re smiling, eyes sparkling like everything in the world was all fine and dandy.

It never got easier seeing you wear cooler clothes in public.

Sure, he's seen your naked body plenty of times, but there was something about you in a tank top, jean shorts and cowboy boots that just did things to him.

His heart tugs in his chest as he watches you complete the kind act, skipping back down the steps once the lady waves you goodbye.

That’s when you see him, across the street, just staring at you.

Your face lights up like fireworks when you notice. It always did. But Joel never got tired of seeing it.

He watches you jog his way, nearly running straight into him but managing to stop yourself last second.

“Hey! How’d that run go?” You ask, beaming up at him and trying your hardest not to smack his lips with yours.

“Good.” He nods, clenching his jaw.

Jesus, you looked so good right now—Joel was having a very hard time focusing on what to say when you were distracting him with your bangin’ bod.

“Good.” You copy, finding a moment to assess him. He seemed tense, more tense than usual. Joel knows you’re about to ask him what’s wrong—and he can’t face that question right now.

So he speaks before he knows what he’s saying. “You should come out with me again, next time, I mean. Actually try n' help instead of.. flirt.”

He's disgusing his intense feelings for you with an insult, because of course he is.

You scoff at his diss, rolling your eyes. “You loved my flirtin’.” You copied his texan drawl to mock him, earning you a glare.

“Well, I’d love to. Is it a date?” You purr, stepping into his personal space, prompting Joel to make quick use of his self control.

If he could act on his impulse, he would have bent you over and fucked you right there on the sidewalk.

He clears his throat before nodding. “Sure. Tomorrow. It’s a date.” He bites out like it pains him, because in truth, he'd rather take you out to dinner or something than another stupid supply run.

You’re smiling again, swaying on your feet. You make a few glances around to make sure no one’s watching before popping up and kissing him on his cheek.

“Kay, see you then." You chirp ever so sweetly, walking away in your small jean shorts.

You were really tugging on his heart strings.

When tomorrow comes, you're sitting on your porch swing, waiting for Joel to come and get you.

You were excited—mainly because you two would be out of sight from prying eyes. You could act on all your impulses.

You didn't mind people figuring you two out, you're kind of sure they already had, but you felt that Joel did care, and you wanted to respect his boundaires. Even though he never made those clear.

But, you felt you were pushing it with that kiss on the cheek yesterday, and you didn't want him upset with you.

The sudden thought made you worry.

Maybe he was upset with you. He did glare at you yesterday.

You probably did something, your anxious mind tells you.

You're snapped out of your thoughts due to the sound of hooves clopping against the road. Looking up, you're met with the pleasure-inducing sight of Joel.

He's walking with a horse beside him, holding its lead with a trained hand.

He's wearing that faded gray shirt and those jeans that seem like they're hanging on by a thread. So casual.

But, then you take a closer look at his appearance. He...trimmed his beard and attempted to slick back his hair...?

...Was he trying to look nice for you?

"Did you get all pretty for me?" You ask with a giddy smile, skipping down your steps.

He grumbles something incoherent under his breath before rolling his eyes. Yet, you swear you can see the faintest bit of blush on his cheeks. "You ready to go?" He asks, gesturing to the horse.

He's trying to change the subject, but you need to let him know you appreciate his efforts.

"You look really good, Joel. I mean—you always look good, but today especially." You bring your hand up to feel his hair, smiling happily. He can tell you're being geniune, but he's never been good with compliments.

"Thanks, sweetheart—now get on the damn horse." He sounds exasperated, but theres a small smile on his lips.

He helps you up onto the back before climbing on himself. "Wrap yer arms 'round me. Don't fall off." He murmurs, steering the horse towards the gates.

You slide up so that your chest is pressed against his back, and outstretch your arms to wrap around him. Once you two successfully leave the town and no one is watching, that's when you rest your cheek on his shoulder blade.

It's cozy. It's intimate. It's Joel.

You could fall asleep against him like this.

He remains silent because he knows how peaceful you feel right now. He wants to let you enjoy the moment.

You're admiring the forest scenary, occasionally resting your eyes. You don't know where Joel is taking you—maybe he's heading straight towards the middle of nowhere to drop you off and leave. Getting rid of you probably would've been in his best interest.

You're smiling at the thought because you know yourself. Even if he did do that, you'd find a way back to him. Like a loyal dog.

"Wait," Your voice cracks through the silence. Joel stops the horse, turning his head back to look at you. "Is that a lake?" He turns his head to where you're looking, his eyes catching the blue water that you're so enamoured by.

"Don't know what else it would be."

You roll your eyes at his smartassary. "...Can we go?"

"To the lake?" He reiterates, a confused look on his face. "'N do what?"

You shrug your shoulders, feeling stupid for asking all the sudden.

Immediately, Joel notices how you shrink into yourself. He wants to punch himself in the dick because he's being an asshole.

To fix his mistake, he makes a clicking sound with his tongue and steers the horse down to the body of water.

You're giddy again in no time, a soft but excited squeal escaping your throat.

He manages to find a small clearing within the brush; open tall grass, a fallen tree trunk perfect for sitting, and direct access to the lake.

"So pretty." You muse, simply in awe of the nature around you.

You didn't really leave town much—only when you had to. So, seeing stuff like this, really meant a lot to you.

Joel gets off the horse and immediately turns to help you down. His hands find themselves on your hips while yours latch onto his shoulders.

He lowers you effortlessly, his grasp lingering for longer than it needed to.

Your skin lights on fire at his touch, dirty thoughts instantly flooding your brain.

The lake, the seculsion, the tension...there was really only one thing you were thinking about right now.

"Hey, what if we just...didn't go on that supply run?" You muse, avoiding eye contact for a moment because no matter how close you've gotten with Joel, he still made you nervous.

He shoots you a questioning look, which gives you the idea to show rather than tell.

You step closer to the waters edge, beginning to take off your boots. Joel's watching with that stern look, but it quickly fades, replaced with lust when you start shedding off your clothes.

First your shorts, then your tank top.

"Let's go swimming!" You say with that happy smile, the one that makes his heart beat soar.

He can't stop his eyes from devouring every inch of your stark naked body.

Not only did Joel enjoy your pert breasts and supple ass, he was also equally obsessed with the not overtly sexual things about you. Your hair, shoulders, collar bone, forearms, the curve of your spine—everything, he was consumed by it all.

He realizes that he needs to answer you, but all that comes out is a scoff.

"Hey—no. We don't know what the hells in that water." He huffs as his boner peaks through his jeans.

"Fine, guess I'll swim alone then." You say nonchalantly, knowing if you went in, odds were, Joel wouldn't be far behind.

And you were right.

As soon as you enter the cool water, you see Joel starting to undress in the corner of your eye.

You pretened you're not watching, and eventually he joins you in the lake.

You've waded out rather far into the water, waiting to speak until you know Joel is close.

"Doesn't it feel nice?" You ask, letting your body float above the surface, limbs outstretched while you stared up at the fluffy clouds.

If you could do this forever, you would. Naked as the day you were born, floating in warm spring water with Joel's company—maybe this was heaven.

Sure felt like it.

You almost don't even notice Joel's palm run up your shin and thigh, only when his hand lightly drifts over your lower stomach, is when you become all too aware.

Yet, he doesn't venture south.

Instead, he makes a path further up your stomach, then your ribs, then the valley of your breasts, until he rests his hand over your heart.

You stare at his face as he completes this insane act, completely baffled at the fact that he seemed so entranced and calm, while you were trying not to freak out.

He notices your stare, and finally meets your eye contact. No words leave his mouth—he can't seem to find any that feel right.

But he's thinking about how beautiful you are. How sweet and doting, how smart and witty. Everything about you encompassed into a few short words just didn't feel worthy enough.

But you can't just leave things the way they are.

Slowly, you situate yourself around him, attaching to his body like a koala bear. Your arms slide around his shoulders while your legs wrap around his waist.

Skin to skin, face to face, so fucking intense.

Joel's strong arms find themselves around your torso, keeping you close to him.

"Yeah, it does feel nice." Joel replies, his voice soft, his eyes even softer.

You smile, big and geniune, a feeling of bliss taking over you. "Isn't this so much better than some silly supply run?"

Joel rolls his eyes, which spurs you on even more.

"Come on, admit it; you'd rather be out here with me, than some stinky convience store looting pills." You tighten your legs a little around his torso, feeling your cunt become flush with his bare stomach.

You feel a surge of pride when his breath hitches and his erect cock prods at your ass.

But it doesn't take long for his expression to fall back into its natural scowl.

"M'not admitin' shit." He murmurs, bringing a hand up to move your wet hair over your shoulder and onto your back. It's an absentminded motion, one that Joel isn't really thinking about doing.

He just felt the urge to touch you.

You giggle at him, dropping your forehead to his shoulder to laugh.

Joel huffs, trying to stop smirking because your giggle is contagious. "Quit." Is all he says, shaking his head. "Can't believe you got me out 'ere doin' this shit." He grumbles, adjusting his hold on you slightly.

"What 'shit'?" You mimick him and his texan drawl, earning you a stern glare.

"Naked in a lake like m'some fuckin' teenager." He speaks with an unamused expression, before his eyes land back onto you and his gaze softens. "What're you doin' to me, huh?"

It's a rhetorical question, but he says it like he's truly desperate for an answer.

You're not sure how to respond. His eye contact is making your brain all foggy.

It's silent.

You can only hear the rustling water, your breathing, and the general nature sounds in the distance.

Joel knows he confused you with his words, so he takes a moment to look away.

"Alright," He huffs out eventually. "Time to go."

He doesn't give you a chance to protest because he's already walking back to the shore, his arm remaining secured tightly around your back, basically carrying you.

You're not ready to leave, but you know Joel is, so you just opt for a dejected sigh.

He lets you back down on your feet when you're both on the grass, lingering his hand on the small of your back when he picks up your clothes. He uncrinckles your shirt before opening it up so you could easily put it on.

"This is becoming a habit of yours." You murmur softly, putting on the tank top and cringing at the way it sticks to your wet skin.

"Mm?" Joel doesn't know what you're referring to. He's never realized his pattern of clothing you. It was a simple act, but one you found endearing.

"Nothin'." You chirp, sliding on your shorts and boots.

Joel looks at you assessingly while buttoning his jeans back up, sucking in his stomach to zip them.

You're looking right back at him, admiring the way his wet hair looks, how the grays peak out in the most perfect way.

In a nervous manner, you shift on your feet, sliding your hands down into your jean pockets. "You sure you don't wanna...fool around?" You muse, looking at him with raised eyebrows.

Joel smirks down at the ground as he continues to button up his shirt, shaking his head.

"You're too late kid, should've asked when we were naked." He's teasing, walking back over to the horse and gesturing for you to come.

You groan out, dragging your feet as you walk over to him and the horse. You were being dramatic, and Joel see's right through it.

"Quit whinin'. C'mon," He mutters, grabbing you by the hips to hoist you back onto the saddle.

"You're no fun, old man." You mumble, which freezes Joel in his tracks.

He doesn't know why, but that one off-handed comment ignites a blazing string of destructive thoughts.

As if he wasn't already insecure enough about being old and no fun.

His brain is jump-starting the self-depricating train of thought he had grown accustomed to, only this time, it had more fuel because you unknowingly confirmed it.

Of course, that isn't what you meant at all. It was just a teasing little comment, one you didn't think twice about. You weren't actually upset—at all.

Nevertheless, Joel's already in deep.

Slowly, he swings himself behind you onto the horse, grabbing the reins and starting forward.

You're quick to notice his demeanor, but choosing to keep your mouth shut.

The entire ride back is silent.

It was just like the ride there, only with a more suffocating air.

You have an inkling, but you have no idea the extent of his turmoil behind you.

Eventually, you two make it back to the stables. Joel helps you down from the horse, moving like a robot with no facial expression.

He's got that look in his eye that worries you. Every atom in your body wants to ask him what's wrong, but you also don't want to pry.

However, Joel would never open up to you unprompted. So, you at least try.

Your hand drifts upwards to his face, smoothing some of his hair down by his ear. "Is everything okay?" You finally ask, your voice purposefully soft and light so you don't startle him like he was some wild animal.

He inhales through his nose and clenches his jaw.

Oh.

Something was really wrong.

Your gaze goes from slightly weary to concerned in a flash, nervously biting down on your lower lip. "Is there anything I can do to help?" You ask, very evidently willing to do whatever he needed.

Joel had never been good with emotional timing. At the end of the day, he was still a man.

“We’ve gotta stop this.” He blurts.

You’re still for a moment, confused with his abrupt and vague words. You wait patiently for an elaboration.

Eventually, one comes, to Joel’s own dismay.

“We can’t see each other anymore—not like this.”

A beat passes.

Then another.

And then another.

You’re frozen with dread.

It’s like your body has forgotten all functions as you sit there and stare at him.

Surprisingly, the only thing you’re able to think of in this life changing moment, is the Christmas party at Maria and Tommy’s.

You’re thinking about how Joel fucked you in the guest bedroom, and how he said he didn’t want you having sex with anyone else.

You remember how happy you felt—like you two were exclusive or something.

How stupid were you?

With a quick intake of air, you swallow and look away.

“Did I do something wrong?” You croak, your voice akin to a wilting flower.

Joel is wracked with guilt the moment he hears you. But his mind is forcing him to do this.

“No—no. You haven’t done anythin’ wrong. This is all me, I fucked up and let this go on for too long.”

His answer provides no relief.

“But, I thought we—I thought you liked me?” You’re stumbling over your words because you’re so distraught, trying to blink away your persistent tears.

Shit.

Joel can hardly look at you. He would crumble and die if he did—the sadness in your expression is like several stabs to the gut.

Truth is, he did like you.

Thats why he wants to end things.

“I’m sorry.” Is all he can manage, head hanging down to look at the dirt.

You’re not looking at him either, instead opting to blankly stare at one of the horses in the stable.

“So,” You start, your voice cracking because you’ve started crying at this point. “You don’t wanna hook up, does that mean we can still hang out?”

Joel takes a big deep breath before answering.

"It would be best if we didn't see each other at all." Finally, he makes eye contact with you, and immediately regrets it.

You look like you've just been shot, for christsake—might as well have.

It was like he just tore your heart out, threw it to the ground, curb-stomped it, and kicked it down a gutter.

"Okay," you murmur, nodding slowly, trying to seem some-what chill about things. Inside, however, it was like World War III. "Uhm, I'm just gonna go home." Your voice is a croak, and Joel watches with the utmost remorse as you walk away.

It feels like shock.

Was this a break up? Were you even together in the first place? Why didn't he want to see you at all? Questions, questions, and more questions rattle in your brain as you shuffle away, hands shaking and eyes pouring.

You look down at the ring Joel gifted you on your finger, debting whether you should take it off or not.

Joel feels awful.

And it's not like the awful he felt the very first time he regected you—this time it's far more painful. It's a deeper wound, an uglier, gross, puss-infested cut that keeps getting worse the farther you walk away.

He thought he'd feel some relief.

He thought that after ending things, he would be rid of that nagging voice in his head.

But no, it remained.

Only now, it barked thoughts of wrong-doing.

'Why would you do that? Things were going great, you've fucked everything. You just broke her heart—’ and it goes on and on and on.

For a moment, the panic he feels registers in his mind as a heart attack. Thats what it felt like, anyway.

He has to brace himself against one of the wood beams in the barn, aggressively rubbing his chest to try and get his heart rate normal. Joel loses his breath in the process, not realizing that he's having a panic attack.

Whatever happens next, you don't see.

You never looked back after you walked away. *** "I don't know why you're all caught up about this, Joel." Tommy admits, a disappointed expression on his face.

Joel glares at his younger brother from the bar top, clearly disgruntled by Tommy's inability to understand his side of the situation.

It had been exactly 17 hours since Joel cut things off with you. He'd been drinking for at least 10 of those hours.

Somewhat drunkenly, he had told Tommy a very short and curt version of what happened.

But he got the picture. Tommy sighs, hanging his head for a minute before bringing it back up to speak again. "All m'sayin' is, it's the end of the damn world, Joel. Her 'future' ain’t graunteed; she'll be lucky if she makes it past 30 with the way things are. She's been 'round long enough to know that herself, n'for some fuckin' reason, she wants you—"

"She don't know what the hell she wants."

"See—that's where you're wrong, Joel." Tommy slams the whiskey glass that he was cleaning down on the bar, fed up and frustrated. "I've known 'er longer than you. She's a smart girl n'you're sellin' her short. Wake the hell up." He bites out before walking away, clearly finished with the conversation.

He had been watching and listening to Joel mop and groan about it all day and night—he had enough.

Other than the anger from being talked to in that manner welling inside of Joel, there was also a moment of clarity.

As much as it killed him to admit, Tommy was right.

He was selling you short.

The world is too ugly and fucked up for him not to act like everyday might be his last. He would be stupid to not just settle down and be happy with you for however long he had left.

Shit.

All alone in Tipsy Bison, Joel was slowly beginning to realize how majorly he screwed up.

He ruined things because he was too damn scared.

He didn't think there was a worse feeling than this—dealing with this huge fucking mistkae.

He wasn't sure if he would be able to come back from how things ended.

That look that you had in your eyes...Fuck. Joel didn't think he even deserved a second chance.

But goddammit if he didn't try.

After throwing the rest of his whiskey back, Joel got up from the barstool and hurriedly walked out, slamming the doors behind him.

He marches all the way to your place, ignoring whoever tried to talk to him on the way.

He had to do this. He couldn't live with himself if he didn't.

Finally, he makes it to your quaint little home, haulting in front of it. There is some imaginary force stopping him, something pulling him back.

It's that nagging voice in his head again, the one that caused this whole mess in the first place.

But this time, he ignores it, and trudges up your porch steps.

Joel knocks rather forcefully, his jaw clenching when you don't answer within seconds.

He bangs on the door again with his fist, hard, his patience wearing dangerously thin.

When you still don't answer, he enters anyway with your spare key (he always kept it on him), calling out your name as soon as he steps inside.

You hear him from your bed upstairs, though you honestly think you're hallucinating. You've been crying for hours, the only sound in your ears were your sniffles and sobs.

His heavy footsteps seem to get louder and louder, and when he calls out your name outside you're door, that's when you realize you weren't hallucinating at all.

You sit up just as Joel opens your door, your eyes wide with shock and tears.

He takes a couple steps inside before he sees how utterly devastated you looked. The sight of you renders him immoveable.

He feels…like the biggest asshole-asshat-douchebag-fuckwad-dickhead thats ever walked the planet.

“Why…are you here?” Your broken voice asks, trying your best to hold back tears.

Even after all he did, you still spoke so softly, all your respect for him still there.

He had talked himself up the entire walk over, but all his words were dying on his tongue.

He was beginning to think that there was nothing he could say that would make what he did right.

“Babygirl I—”

He sees you psychically flinch at his voice, and it makes his heart break all over again.

His feet carry him to the edge of your bed, hands coming out to hold your face.

You’re not sure how to process his touch, not sure how to process any of what’s happening, but you’re trying your best.

“I was wrong,” his thumb is wiping off the tear stains on your cheeks, a forced gentleness to his touch. “So fuckin’ wrong, babygirl. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Upon hearing his words, you can’t stop the floodgate of your tears. You start bawling, your shoulders shaking with each sob.

“I was so scared.” You cry, bringing your hands up to latch onto him. You wanted to explain more, explain why you were scared—because having Joel and then suddenly not having him, was like ripping your heart out.

He can’t scoop you up in his arms fast enough.

He gets in the bed with you, lifting you onto his lap while he cradles your head to his chest, kissing the top of your scalp.

"M'not lettin' you go. I promise." He husks, his grip on you strong.

And Joel kept this promise.

He held you the entire night, ensuring that you were secure and warm.

In the morning, you immediately asked what changed his mind.

"I was frustrated." He starts, exhaustion etched into his face. "I couldn't understand why you wanted me. Felt I was keeping you from some great life—a young husband n' some white picket fence. But..life here is probably as good as it's gonna get. And this," He looks to the both of you, alluding to the relationship you shared. "Is really fuckin' good."

Your heart is crumbling at his confession.

Discovering that he spent so much time insecure about things, both infuriated and saddened you.

When you were about to respond and explain away his worries, he speaks again.

"M'not lettin' you go. What I did was a mistake. M'sorry."

You're crying again, sniffling softly against him.

"You should've just fuckin' talked to me," You whimper, burying your face into his neck. "I could've—”

"Ain't nothin' you could'a done. You never did anythin' wrong." Joel reassures, pulling you from his shoulder so he can look at your face. "You gon' forgive me?"

"Obviously," you mumble, looking at him with a fake frustrated expression. "I meant it when I said I've always been yours."

And just like that, things were resolved.

You brought your hand down to grip his flannel, sighing into his chest. Joel also sighed in relief, realizing that you weren't going anywhere.

To raise the spirits in the room, you crane your neck up to look up at him, a soft smile playing at your lips.

"M'still mad at you. How are you gonna make it up to me?" Initally, you weren't really insinuading anything sexual—you were thinking he could take you for dinner or ice cream or something.

But Joel has something different in mind.

He gently grabs your jaw, angling your face so he could kiss you how he wanted. His tongue is warm in your mouth, his mustache prickly against your face.

When he breaks away, you're out of breath, looking up at him with wide eyes.

"I got an idea." Joel mumbles, carressing your jawline with his thumb.

Slowly, he sits up only to position himself between your thighs. With his calloused hands, he slides his palm up the planes of your legs until he reaches your pants.

You shiver when he dips his fingers under your waist band, pulling them down agonizingly slowly.

"This okay?" He asks in a gentle tone, one that makes your stomach do flips.

"Yes," You say immediately and breathlessly. "Very okay."

The corners of his mouth turn up to resemble a smirk, before his gaze returns back to the area between your legs. He runs his fingers down your clothed slit, feeling the way your wetness coated the stringy fabric.

You let out a soft gasp, slightly bucking your hips, hungry for more of his touch.

He plays there for a while before finally taking your underwear off, setting it somewhere on the bed.

Joel inhales through his nose when he sees your glistening cunt, trying to not cum in his pants at just the sight. He doesn't stop his impulse to pull your folds apart, running his thumb along your lips.

He's being so slow and gentle—it’s making your heart rate each dangerous levels.

His thumb then ventures up to lovingly rub your clit, his eyes scanning your face to watching your reaction.

Your legs are shaking as you kept them apart for Joel, your hands fisting the sheets as you cope with the sensations he's allowing you.

Your chest is heaving up and down and your eyes are glazed over with a hazy fog—one that Joel loves to see.

Then, out of nowhere, Joel lowers his head and connects his lips to your clit.

The act makes you jolt, mostly because you weren't expecting it.

His tongue laps at you, slowly at first, but then something shifts in Joel.

It's like the hunger for your cunt overwhelms him, and his grip on your thighs tighten. Within seconds, he's devouring you like a man starved, licking long strips up your cunt before focusing on sucking your clit.

You can't stop the moans and mewls slipping past your lips, and you don't really want to. You want Joel to know how good he's making you feel.

"OhhhfuckJoel," You whine, shooting your hands down to grab his salt and pepper hair. He focuses solely on your bundle of nerves with his tongue, using his fingers to give your desperately empty hole some attention.

When he slides two fingers inside, you effectively fall apart.

Tear prick in the lining of your eyes, your thighs clamp around his head as you cry out his name.

The fact that he's never eaten you out before and he's been this good at it the entire time, felt criminal. You honestly might've been more offended that he waited so long to reveal this talent than when he tried to end things.

"Dontstopdontstopdontstop," You sob, feeling yourself reach that climax you craved.

You come with a loud moan, and Joel lets you ride it out on his tongue and fingers.

When your body goes limp, thats when Joel lets up. He brings his head out from your legs and slips his digits out of your spasming hole.

You mewl at the feeling, looking at him with teary eyes.

"Where the hell did you learn to do that?" You asks, voice quiet and cracked.

"M'fifty-six years old—been around the block, babygirl." He's face is glistening with your juices, and his mouth is wearing that lopsided smile of his. It makes you wanna smile back.

"...Damn. So I'm not the first, huh?" You huff, not upset in the slightest, just wanting to tease him a little.

He chuckles and unzips his pants, letting his cock slap against his stomach. "No sweetheart, you ain't the first." He rasps, effortlessly manhandling you to straddle his lap. "But you are gon be my last."

His hands caress the plush surface of your hips, kneading them like dough while his eyes scan your face.

You're blushing so hard, your face probably looks like a spanked ass.

He really did have a knack for leaving you breathless with those one-liners of his.

You steady yourself by placing your hands on his shoulders, looking back down into his big brown eyes. All you can do is stare, because your brain is too focused on how hard your heart is beating to come up with a response.

"What? Now you ain't got nothin' to say?" He husks, his massive palm venturing down to your grab and squeeze your ass. Your back straightens and your lips part like you want to say something—but you're not quite sure what. "C'mon, use those pretty lips."

An idea pops into your brain.

"I'd rather use these lips," You whisper close to his mouth as you raise your hips up to hover over his member, slowly dipping his tip inside your warm hole.

"Fuck," Joel grunts, exhaling through his nose.

You grin at his reaction, lowering yourself down further with bated breath. You watch as his head lolls back and his grip tightens on your waist.

"What? Now you have nothing to say?" You mock, even though you're equally as breathless as he is.

He flashes you a glare before sliding a hand up to the back of your neck, pulling you in for a searing kiss. His hand doesn't let you break away from his lips, and you don't plan to.

His tongue establishes dominance in your mouth, which you eagerly let happen. It's passionate, deep, bordering on punishing—sometime during, he manages to rip your top off, leaving you completely nude. But sooner or later, you both decide breathing might be a good idea.

You break away, chests heaving, mouths panting.

Eventually, you sink all the way down on him, giggling deliriously when you make eye contact again. You decide to forget your fake little fued, nuzzling your head into his neck.

"Have I ever told you how big your dick is?" You mewl, squirming your hips around a bit but not lifting them up and down. It has Joel reeling.

His hands are holding you so tight, you're sure that it'll leave a bruise. "No," Joel huffs out rather distractedly, his eyes laser-focused on the way your cunt is gushing all over his lap. But you swear you can see the faintest blush on his tan skin.

"Well—your dick is real big." You whisper nearly inaudibly, making Joel snap his gaze back to your face. A lazy smile curls at your lips before you begin dragging you tight cunt up and down on his violently erect cock.

Joel shakes his head in disbelief, as he often does, but is unable to answer becase the feeling of being inside you is rendering him speechless. His hand absent-mindedly dips down to rub your clit—the act has you doubling over onto his shoulder, starting to bounce on him like your life depended on it.

"OhJoel, Iloveitsomuch," You blabble into his ear, noticing how he had taken the reigns at this point. He was manually lifting your hips, bringing them down with intense vigor.

He was stretching you out so good and his tip was so fucking deep—you were having a hard time staying conscious and not going brain dead.

It appears Joel's in the same boat too. "Fuck—you're killin' me." He grunts, bucking his hips up to meet you.

You giggle airily before immediately getting your karma—his dick paired with the position and the way his face looked—your cunt clenches down on him and you cum hard.

Your body jolts as you grab onto him, not expecting him to keep fucking you. But his grip on your hips doesn't falter, and Joel continues to bounce you up and down.

The sensation is unlike anything you've ever felt. Just letting him manhandle your body and do what he wanted was a surprising relief—even if you did just come.

You're reduced to whimpers and moans as you slump into his chest, letting him ground you and fuck your abused cunt.

Finally, slams you down one final time, unloading deep into your warmth. His groans sound like music to yours hears, especially because you know it's you that's making him feel so good.

He's panting in your ear, slowly starting to move his hands up to wrap around your torso.

He's hugging you before you can register it; his big arms securing you tightly to his chest while you both tried to catch your breaths.

Seconds pass...which turn into minutes, and you're wondering if Joel ever plans on letting you go.

He's made no efforts to remove his dick from inside you—it's soft now, but still buried deep nonetheless.

Your pussy will occasionally flutter around him, which'll earn a soft sigh from his lips.

You place a soft kiss on his temple before straightening your back to look at his face. "You tryin' to make sure your seed takes or something'?" You murmur, that teasing lilt in your voice that Joel is all too familiar with.

"Somethin' like that." He mutters into your chest, pulling you down with him to lay on the bed. "Want me to pull out?" He asks after a moment, scanning your face for any traces of displeasure.

You nestle into his chest, hooking your leg over his waist to lodge him deeper inside. "Never."

You and Joel fuck all day, all night and even into the morning. With, of course, breaks in between so Joel can recharge his stamina.

It happens multiple times in your bed, in the shower, on the couch, in the hallway, and even in the kitchen come morning.

Joel was making coffee while you were traipsing around with just his flannel on—humming along to some made-up song. It was like you two were an old married couple; him hovering over the moka pot and you scowering the fridge for some breakfast.

"Blueberry pancakes orrrr...." Joel watches as your head is stuck in the fridge, trying to find ingredients for meals. "Blueberry pancakes."

He snorts. "Surprise me." He huffs sarcastically, knowing he'd be eating a plate of blueberry pancakes.

You grinned and started making the batch, feeling Joel's eyes all over you because of the way his flannel was slipping off your shoulder because it was far too big on you.

His stare was turning you on—so you just bent yourself over the cool surface of the countertop and Joel did the rest.

Eventually, your safari of fun had to stop sometime during lunch. You both had succesfully cleaned yourselves and had started dressing for the day.

"I just told Maria I'd help set up." You murmur distractedly, tying your hair up in the bathroom mirror. Maria was holding a little town party in one of the recreational centers, and asked you, as well as some others to help her with the decorations.

There's a pause before Joel steps into the tiny bathroom, situating himself behind you and sliding his large hand over your stomach. He places a soft kiss to your head before dropping his hands to softly squeeze your hips.

"I'll walk you there."

A beat.

"You will?" He nods in confirmation, which has you turning around to look at him. You smile and tilt your head playfully. "You gonna walk me to first period too?"

Joel immediately rolls his eyes and scoffs, though you swear you can see him smirk.

"Smartass." He huffs out, grabbing your forearms to move you out of the way.

"Kidding." You chime, leaning on your tip toes to kiss his cheek. You weren't sure why you were so surprised by his offer, but you could tell it was a sign of something.

Maybe he wasn't stressed about people finding out about you two anymore. He never said that he was—but you could tell.

And it wasn't like he was embarrassed of you or anything—he's just always been a private person. It wasn't anyone's business who he was falling asleep next to every night.

But you—he'd be willing to change that for you.

When you both are ready, you exit your house, locking the door behind you. You look up to see your neighbor watching as you and Joel descend your porch steps.

You never liked her—gossipy woman who was always sticking her nose in places it didn't belong.

Quickly, your gaze snaps to his face, wanting to see if he was okay or anxious or whatever it may be.

But Joel's just looking right back down at you. "Lead the way, pretty lady." He murmurs lowly, his jaw clenched but his eyes soft.

You smile, and fall into step with him as you both walk down the sidewalk. The birds are chirping, the breeze feels amazing, and Joel is cracking smiles at your jokes.

Life felt good again.

Suddenly, Tommy appears out of nowhere, as he often does, blocking you and Joel's path.

You freeze, trying to keep a neutral face. You still weren't sure how to act around people with Joel, so you were just planning to play if off like you guys were just two buddies walking or whatever.

"Hey," Tommy greets, looking at you and then Joel, his eyebrows pinched together like he was confused at seeing the two of you in the same vicinity.

Oh. He probably knew what happened, or bits and pieces of it.

For some reason, you feel anxious that Joel might be feeling anxious, so you look down at your feet and nervously fidget with your hands.

"What're you two doin'?" Tommy asks, a detective look in his eyes as he shifted on his feet.

Joel clears his throat before looking down and grabbing your hand, intertwining your fingers with his calloused grip. He can't help but glare at Tommy with a stern face, squeezing your hand reassuringly.

Your breath catches.

Tommy's eyes venture down to your joined hands, then you, then Joel.

After a beat, a sharp and knowing grin spreads across his face.

"Well I'll be damned." THE END.

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

When I saw ur post that you'll do Cookie run kingdom, I IMMEDIATELY jumped to this!

Beast Cookies (The 3 Playable ones rn) vs The Ancients fighting for their attention to dear Cookie!Reader in their cookie kingdom. But Cookie!Reader is very oblivious to their affection, and they just think they're getting along swell, buts its VERY obvious to the other cookies about the attention.

Yes yes YES! I've only finished SMC's arc but I read the others on the wiki page. So hopefully I did them all justice

.............

Shadow Milk/Pure Vanilla

In the Cookie Kingdom, Shadow Milk hasn't entirely changed his ways, although he promised to stop turning cookies into puppets/tarots/chess pieces (which surprisingly wasn't a lie).

He simply settled for creating mischief and making himself quite the nuisance to Pure Vanilla Cookie (since he's still a bit petty about the whole soul jam situation and all).

However, he's been going the extra mile lately because of you, a Cookie who was one of Pure Vanilla's closest friends.

Unlike others who had the usual reactions to his pranks (horror, anger, embarrassment, or sometimes all three at once), he notices that you don't give him the reactions he hopes for.

Instead you just laugh and say "you almost got me there, maybe next time!"

He thought you were mocking him, but when you insist you're being honest, he backs off.

Since you're so interesting to him, he keeps watch over you...and pouts every time he sees you with Pure Vanilla, becoming determined to have your attention all to himself.

Once, he snuck one of his cream sheep (in literal wolf's clothing) into the cotton candy ranch pen while you were assisting the healer in harvesting wool.

His plan was to distract him so he'd be able to "kidnap" you and leave his counterpart to deal with the chaos of a dangerous creature threatening the flock (even changing the "no wolves" sign to "wolves allowed").

Instead, you immediately saw through the facade and thought the wolf was lost, gently sweet-talking it and guiding it out of the pen without causing any commotion.

Shadow Milk appears and whines about you "spoiling" his fun, although he's confused when you ask him if you could keep the wolf.

"Really? Even though I......wait. No, of course not, dummy! Get your own pet." He's quick to snap his fingers, creating a portal that sucks the canine back into the other-realm.

But since that interaction...you believe he's starting to warm up to you, always wanting to hang out and show off.

He'd would make up little lies and truths about his encounters with Pure Vanilla, including what happened at his spire, putting on dramatic displays/shows to make himself out to be the "hero".

Of course, you know better than to believe most of what he says, but you still give him your time of day.

Pure Vanilla did once mention the small droplet of loneliness he sensed within Shadow Milk, so you figured he just needed a friend--something he vehemently denied when that offer was first extended, but eventually learned to accept once he got settled into Cookie Kingdom.

You think you've been making great progress in your friendship with the Beast, although lately a rumor's been circulating (one that he didn't create, and thus was unaware of), that he had a crush on you.

Why else would he want you all to himself? And try to drag you away from Pure Vanilla anytime he saw you both together? And make you more of the witness--instead of the victim--to his latest pranking scheme?

90% of the time he acts like he caught you "cheating" on him...and you're just like "but I'm not even dating anyone???"

Since Awakening, Pure Vanilla has grown to have a lot more patience with him, but he still thinks his antics are childish and would say "just tell them how you feel".

However, he knows Shadow Milk is not one to wear his heart on his sleeve, and would rather put on grand puppet shows and shapeshift as other cookies you've befriended than ever admit he likes you.

But he believes that one day, you'd be the one to crack through that exterior. Just as he did.

Mystic Flour/Dark Cacao

In her weary world of white, you were a cookie that brought just a smidgen of color back into her daily life.

Within the kingdom, she found cookies who remind her of those who used to flock to her Ivory Pagoda with selfish desires and obsessive wishes, taking and taking.

Seeing them dart around and act the fool makes her ponder over whether they should be enlightened or not...

Loving, befriending, working, creating...what was the point if none of that will matter in a hundred years? Do they ever stop to ask themselves if any of those deeds will be remembered? Why bother?

While her powers are severely diminished, leaving her unable to summon a flour storm, she still tries spreading her message to those willing to listen.

Most try to stay away, as her words are rather depressing, but you're actually curious about why she thinks that way.

You feel terrible after learning her story before and after she had her soul jam stripped away, although she assures you not to mourn--for she found comfort in apathy, and asks if you'll do the same.

But you respond that while it is inevitable that everyone crumbles and returns to flour no matter what, life is still worth experiencing, and wanting to help the kingdom grow is something you enjoy and want to keep doing.

"But kingdoms rise and fall. This one, too, shall follow. All these monuments will become mere piles of sugar dust. These waterways will soon dry up and-"

"That may be true, but who's to say we can't rebuild? This isn't your traditional kingdom with a single ruler." You point out. "We've got plenty of hands to help put up new statues and fill the rivers."

"...hm."

Dark Cacao was..less-than-pleased to see you chatting with her, considering she brought the Pale Ailment to his kingdom and nearly killed him trying to obtain his soul jam.

It's a grudge he hasn't fully let go of, and he made it known to you that he'll fight any of her attempts to "corrupt" your mind with her twisted ideals.

He'd try to keep you away from her--which is unusual for the typically reserved Ancient Hero (unless you were from the same kingdom, and in that case you'd understand Your Majesty's protectiveness).

Unfortunately for him, Mystic Flour finds your presence..intriguing. Even when your time is up, she'd certainly want to remember everything about you, so she wants to know more about you here in the present.

While she observes you handling tasks with grace, she'll notice Dark Cacao glaring at her from across the way, pondering why he kept looking at her like that.

Could he have been...jealous?

Yet another frugal emotion he would've been liberated from had he listened to her...

You think the two have been getting along a bit better, considering they could be in the same space without him brandishing his sword....but in reality, even other cookies can sense their tension, the air too thick to be cut with a butterknife.

Burning Spice/Golden Cheese

When you heard news of Burning Spice Cookie joining the kingdom, you were informed to stay FAR away from him, as he was one of the most violent Beasts the Witches have ever known.

Golden Cheese told you about her battle with him, bitterly recalling how he tore her own wings off and caused destruction simply out of boredom--so she's rightfully concerned for your safety.

Unfortunately for the queen of abundance, her counterpart's eyes have been on you the moment he noticed you both talking to one another.

But instead of allowing him to goad her into a rematch, you offer to show Burning Spice around the kingdom.

He welcomes the change, considering there's no singular ruler, although he expected this one to crumble like many before.

"Let's see how long it takes before I grow bored of this....place." He sneers, keeping his weapon at the ready-

Although he noticed a statue built in his likeness (alongside SMC and MFC) and paused.

This kingdom honored the Beasts despite all of their horrific crimes?

"I dunno when those showed up, but-"

"I like 'em. It's a nice surprise. Whoever sculpted this paid extra attention to my physique and might. I give them my thanks. Nice to see that someone here knows I'm the greatest." He snickers.

Yep A simple statue satisfied his ego enough to spare the kingdom from having to spend fortunes on property damages.

As you began spending more time with Burning Spice, you show him different (and better) outlets for his anger, providing him a home with training grounds in case he needed to let off steam.

Forget about trying to put this Beast of Destruction to work---he'd grind the sugar cube quarry to dust and burn down the lumbar production facility.

Golden Cheese--being greedy over not just ownership over her soul jam, but also for her friends--isn't too thrilled with Burning Spice "pretending" to be your best friend, knowing he could crumble you with one claw should you let your guard down.

She has Smoked Cheese Cookie spy on you from a distance to ensure you're safe....but you're oblivious to her concerns.

You had no idea the two were even have daily quarrels over which of them "deserved" your attention more.

If anything, you assumed they were still fighting over their soul jam.

[sscieloz]

Cherry Sky

mean girl!Minnie Yontararak x university student!reader

Synopsis: Minnie needs something to play with after having a shitty day, shitty month, shitty year. Yuqi, as the great friend she is, gifts her something to take off her frustration on: you.

Warnings: nsfw. +18. smut. bites, scratches, bruises, mentions of blood. pain/pleasure mix. mommy!minnie

Word count: 6.1k

Notes: happy valentinesss ˆˆ, this is my morally questionable gift to you, my babiess. I wanted for it to be freakier but I’m also lazy so I’ll stay lacking.

“There you go. Who would’ve thought you could look this pretty, mhm?” Yuqi told herself, even though your eyes interlocked through her closet’s full-length mirror.  “You look like a doll, y/n. I knew you weren’t a lost cause!”

Your classmate’s round, almond eyes might seem innocent to some, but her dirty smirk was a clear statement of all the harsh, subtle comments she chose not to say. You were familiar with her passive-aggressiveness— in fact, you’ve grown somewhat used to it, from observing those same expressions during the many classes the two of you shared for nearly an entire semester.

Out of her evil little friend group, Yuqi was the last one you would’ve guessed to be a STEM major. You still remembered the surprised huff that left your lips when you first met. The blonde girl had thrown her stuff in the seat next to yours, chewing on her gum while ignoring your existence for weeks before even greeting you hello.

There had to be more to her than snappy remarks and a head full of blonde hair. Something intriguing, unsettling enough to keep you up at night, thinking about what else she kept hidden until she was bored enough to stir up some trouble.

It didn’t take long for her to prove she was more than the dumb, fake bitch you imagined. Contrary to popular belief, Yuqi was insanely smart.

It was easy to notice, even with her small, direct answers to your professors during classes. She’d make it clear that this class— and perhaps the major you shared, was something too easy for her. Which, looking at her endless As, indeed it was.

“Are you sure about this, Yuqi?” Your tone was as uncertain as your whole body language, frowning as you hugged yourself to cover up a bit more.

She dismissed you, kneeling to grab one of her pink Adidas samba shoes. To your surprise, she helped you put them on, unexpectedly sweet as she tied your shoelaces without rush.

“I’m serious, Y/n. Relax! God, you’re so tense all the time.” It was her turn to frown at the way you shivered. “You’ll get horrible wrinkles if you act like a granny.”

Your nervousness wasn't from the cold, and even though Yuqi knew so, she didn't comment on it. A small peace offering; one you gladly accepted.

“Relax, of course.” You murmured to yourself, sneaking one last look at the mirror before your classmate dragged you out of her mansion, dodging hallways until you reached her massive garage. Yuqi took her time choosing her car for the night, smiling as if she was having the time of her life. “I’m relaxed.”

“Great! Composure is the key to luck.” Yuqi nodded in approval, starting the car as you shrank under your seat. Her smirk grew dangerous, then, as the vehicle made a curve. “And you’re going to need it tonight, doll.”

For the sake of your mind, you hoped she was wrong.

—

“Damn, a 47%?” Yuqi’s whistle hurt your pride, as she lurked over your shoulder to get a glance at the paper handed to you by the teacher. “For someone who studies so damn much, Y/n, you’re pretty fucking dumb.”

“Do you ever mind your business?” You shot back, shoving the paper in your backpack in hopes your grade would disappear too. Besides sitting next to each other for months now— since none of your friends attended this class and the seats were paired, Yuqi had never talked to you in a tone that wasn’t drenched in poison or mockery.

You hated her guts.

Although you had to accept your defeat, this time. As much as her words were harsh, they weren’t untrue. The majority of your free time was spent hidden in the darkest spots of your university’s library, rereading textbooks and preparing flashcards in hopes you’d understand what the fuck was going on in your classes.

Such impressive, useless dedication. You would’ve probably scored higher without studying a thing.

Yuqi knew that and was eager to rub your failure over your face. There wasn’t a single thing happening at university that she wasn’t aware of, although being a topic of her attention was rather amusing to you.

After all, you were just a stupid, struggling student— much different than Yuqi, who came from the elite and was one of the most popular girls around.

The girl and her friends were the closest thing to royalty in campus. Nothing happened on university grounds without Soyeon, Miyeon, Minnie, Suhuha, and Yuqi’s endorsement. More than idolized, , they were icons: adored, feared, and respected. People clung to them as if they weren’t simply snobbish, greedy, judgmental women with a keen eye for fashion and a weird obsession with humiliating random people for the sake of boredom.

That was, of course, just your humble opinion. Other than that, you kept to yourself, living a quiet life without being involved in any dramas or gossip scandals.

Still, Yuqi’s scrutinizing stare didn’t waver. If only, she was sizing you up, deciding whether or not to make use of her evil mind.

“I can help you if you want.” She commented, adjusting her stuff in her backpack as the entire class prepared to leave. Even though she was pretty good at keeping up with her careless, relaxed reputation, it was obvious she was hiding something.

Her movements were too precise, fingers twitching and twisting like she was desperate for something you couldn’t quite grasp.

You raised a brow, unimpressed. Curiosity got the best of you. “Help me with what, exactly?”

“With your grades, obviously,” Yuqi stated, as if you were stupid. She snapped her fingers in front of your face, “I can round them to like, a 90 or a 95% real quick.”

“My oh my.” You whistled, smirking at her. Truthfully, you found her hilarious. “Am I getting private lessons from the Song Yuqi? I feel honored.”

The blonde scowled as if the thought of spending time with you was out of the question. “Don’t be ridiculous, Y/n. I have way better methods. Besides, with that miserable grade, I doubt you’d learn anything anyway.” Yuqi got up with grace, paying no mind to your incoherent curses as she winked at you. “Think about it, ok? You can message me later.”

As if you had any intentions of doing so. People like Yuqi never truly let go of a deal. Accepting such an offer would tie you to her for a long time— she would be able to manipulate and blackmail you as she pleased. To hell with that; your grades could suck, but you were smarter than this.

Although you screamed back, just to tease. “You didn’t even give me your number!”

Yuqi laughed, not turning around as she disappeared down the crowded hallway. You both knew why: there was no need to. She was already all over the place, anyway.

And she was pretty positive you’d find her soon.

—

“How much did you say you needed for this class again?” Yunjin asked, unpacking her bento box as you sulk beside her. It was too cold to eat outside, but the cafeteria’s seats were already all occupied by the popular crew and their eager minions.

All of those who dared to find a seat at one of the tables were immediately met with straight-up threats; the last thing you wanted for the day was to undergo any further stress.

Sometimes you had to pick which battles to lose.

“An 82%.” You whined, hiding your face in between your hands as you tried not to panic. “I need to score a freaking 82% to pass, Jen. In this hellhole of a class! Sooyoung scored 86% on our last test, and she’s the smartest student at this uni.” With a deep sigh, you shook your head. “I’m so fucked. ‘Gonna fail this for sure, oh my God. My parents are going to kill me. They’re going to cancel my scholarship and I’m literally—“

“You’ll pass, Y/n.” Chaewon chimed in, with her calm, reassuring voice after kissing Yunjin’s cheek. “We’ll study with you. I remember going through hell in this class when I took it, too.” She squeezed your arm, in hopes of bringing you comfort. “It all works out in the end. Try to not freak out too much, please. You can do it, seriously.”

But you were already lost to anxiety, replaying future scenarios in your head. Failing this class would be the end of you. There was no way you could afford it.

“You don’t get it, Chaewonie.” You muttered. She truly didn’t. Your parents would most certainly not accept it, nor would your brain ever allow you to rest if you didn’t make it. “I’m fucked.”

Yunjin patted your back, encouraging and supporting you as she’s always done. Both girls let you sulk this time, offering solutions and options of what you could do to get yourself out of this problem.

The topic changed quickly, soon replaced by an avid discussion about one of your classmates and the other classes you shared with Chaewon and Yunjin. Not that you were listening. If anything, your fingers scrolled down on your phone.

With a distracted mind, you pressed on Instagram. Yuqi’s profile wasn’t hard to find, and you were quick to send her a message. Truthfully, there wasn’t not much to dwell over— you’d back down from her deal if you thought about it too deeply. Submitting to her offer was a terrible idea, after all.

I’m in.

To your surprise, her answer came immediately. She texted an address and a time, nothing more. Although that part was expected. Yuqi wasn’t one to justify herself.

Everything so you won’t fail, you tell yourself.

This is just so I won’t fail.

—

Yuqi’s final destination was a mansion just as lavish as the one you were previously at. You had never seen such thing before: the front garden was neatly trimmed, with a fountain adorning the pavement and tall wooden doors. The lights were arranged so the white construction was glittering in pink and red. Just above the door, a big sign made no mistake of the party’s theme.

Minnie’s Valentine Wonderland.

Embroiled in neat, cursive handwriting, the words made you understand Yuqi’s fuss over the crimson dress she had insisted on you wearing.

Minnie loved being a host. Her parties were always the best; people looked forward to them all season, always eager for an invitation or a hint of the themes she so vehemently insisted on having. It was a fun way of making people put at least half an effort into looking a bit different than their shitty university-sleep-deprived selves, as she frequently mentioned. With Valentine’s Day being so close, it made sense that would be the chosen theme of her first event of the year.

Even though the place was crowded, there was still plenty of space for all the people who gathered on the main floor. You’ve been to one of her parties, once— as a freshman, you had been invited to one of the welcome-to-university parties she organized, as the head of the reception committee, and it was surely one of the best ones you’ve attended in your entire life. Everything had been impeccable, then: the food, the music, the drinks… you excepted no less than that, this time.

After all, Minne has always been one of flattery.

The music inside was loud enough to hurt your ears, but you didn’t mind. If anything, the nerves were taking too much of a toll on you; your sweaty hands refused to go away, no matter how many times you brushed them on the hem of your dress.

During the entire day, all Yuqi had done did was give you orders: sit here. Stay still. Put this on. Ugh, I didn’t like it. Here, try this other one.

You stood true to the older girl’s wishes. With a dress so red you were sure you looked like a car sign, you clung to Yuqi, flustered and exposed at her friend’s party, as she confidently parted her way through the crowd and dragged you around like a doll.

After what felt like an eternity of being under so many pairs of attentive, judgmental eyes, the blonde stopped by the darkened cushions.

Located in the middle of the dance floor— or rather, the living room, given the size of the room and the paintings that weren’t hung to prevent being stolen, you recognized the three intimidating girls that stare down at you. Miyeon, Shuhuha, and Soyeon seemed as disgusted by your approach as you thought they would be.

As if you ever wanted to take part in whatever it was that Yuqi’s evil mind had planned.

“Look who we have here.” Soyeon tossed her drink towards you and Yuqi. “Who’s the lady you’ve got for the night, Yuqi?”

Instead of answering her friend, as a normal person would, Yuqi turned her head around, “Where’s Minnie?” She asked, grumpy to not have met her friend immediately.

Suhuha snorted, falling into laughter while Soyeon rolled her eyes and shrugged, not at all bothered by Yuqi’s petty attitude. “Not here, thank God. She’s even more insufferable with Valentine’s Day being tomorrow, and all. You know how insufferable she’s been ever since Lisa dumped her, that fucking b—”

“Don’t worry, girls.” Your classmate smirked, holding you by the shoulders as she showed you off. “This won’t be an issue even longer. I’ve got one of her favorite presents! Now, just gotta find her. If you’ll excuse me.”

The girls all mumbled together in confusion, screaming for Yuqi to get back and explain her words to them any further. They all sighed, except for Soyeon, whose eyes you still felt burning on your back, as the engines of her brain worked perhaps too fast.

She knew what Yuqi was capable of, and, as of late, that wasn’t an argument she was willing to get on about. So she finished her drink in one go, dancing with her friends in hopes her curiosity would be washed away, too.

—

The grand staircase to the second floor was completely blocked by two fridge-sized men. All it took was a subtle nod from Yuqi and they opened some space for you to ascend the way. Like every other bit of the white-marbled mansion, the place was neat, polished, and strangely empty. Besides the few sculptures in between the hallways, the place lacked warmth.

You’d be at university 24/7 too, if you lived in such a strange place. Although you guessed it suited Minnie. An icy, impersonal place for an equally cold woman.

“Quite a place, don’t you think, Yuqi?” You scoffed, trailing your fingers over the cold walls as you rushed to keep up with her pace. "Very cozy. Gives off some haunted vib—”

Yuqi was done with you. In a swift move, she pulled you to the wall, placing one of her arms over your shoulders so you’d be partially unable to move.

“Listen, smartass.” She spilled, poking the center of your chest with her bony fingers. "Do you know something Minnie specifically hates?”

“Controlling friends that go manipulative behind her back when in reality, they can’t stand her?”

You’ve always failed to understand why Yuqi’s friend group was so feared by others. They were so pretty, so small and contained… you knew of the terrible things they’ve done to others simply out of boredom, but still couldn’t feel intimidated by them at all.

Although, staring at Yuqi’s darkened eyes in an empty corridor made you understand those people a bit. You gulped, suddenly hyperventilating.

The blonde girl followed your chest’s movements, lost in thoughts for a moment. Seconds linger for perhaps too long, and you were about to question what was so interesting when your classmate straightened her posture as if nothing had happened.

“Defiant fuckers.” She muttered between closed teeth, so close you could smell her minty breath, “So how about you close your damn mouth and act like a good, obedient little doll, huh?” You were released from her grip after one final, harsh pull, just as Yuqi added, with a low tone that managed to be even more intimidating than her usual lousiness. "Remember your part of the deal princess, and I’ll remember mine.”

The way Yuqi pronounced any of the pet names she so frequently liked to address people made you sick to your stomach. Still, you couldn’t help but murmur, as the blonde gestured for you to enter a big, spacious room.

“So polite, you are.”

Yuqi closed the double doors with careless strength, her tone strained. “Y/n.”

“Okay, okay!” You raised your arms in defeat. “I’ll be good, promise. Your friend’s good little doll, or whatever her sickening fantasy desires. Now where is she?”

“Well, isn’t that the million-dollar question.” The blonde murmured. Pointed to the middle of the bed, then, instead of answering you directly. “You can sit over there while we wait. Do you remember the rules?”

The room, like all the others, was pretty big, but too light. The wallpaper, the wooden furniture, the canopy bed… all white and impersonal. You felt the need to punch this house’s designer in the guts.

You rolled your eyes, reciting Yuqi’s words in a poor imitation of the older girl. “Just say red if I want out. It’s that simple. Now, where is your damn friend? I’m starting to think you’ve made her up, Yuqi. She’s never around when I bump into you, at campus, and now she’s nowhere to be seen…”

Your provocations irritated her. Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Yuqi turned towards the door in expectation. “You’re unbearable, Y/n. Just shut the fuck up, for lord’s sake.”

The door opened before you cursed at Yuqi. Instead, you both fell silent as Minnie walked in.

You’ve seen her before, obviously, but no everyday look would ever do justice to her party outfits. She looked pristine, impeccable in her pink dress, and long, pitch-black hair cascading down her back.

“What is it, Yuqi?” Minnie’s hard, demanding voice had both you and Yuqi straightening your posture. Her eyes met both of you with annoyance, something somewhat comforting.

Yuqi stood quickly, caressing her friend’s arm as she placed herself beside her. “Well, you’ve been bitching so much about being so stressed and pent up…” The blonde made a brief pause, stretching her arm out in your direction. “So as the perfect friend I am, I decided to get you something for you to play with and cool off a bit, for the night.”

For the first time, Minnie seemed to take you in. How your dress was so short half your thighs were exposed, your white, pearled stockings, the big bow carefully arranged behind your back. Yuqi had indeed wrapped you like a present, all for her precious friend.

Only because the blonde was staring at you like her eyes were going to fall off her orbs, you added to her phrase, with a low, sultry tone. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Minnie.”

Minnie’s provocative smirk vanished immediately. She walked to you, deadly serious.

“And what a pretty little doll you got me, Yuqi.” She stopped when you were close enough you could reach out to her without even stretching your arms. “You do know me well. Is she all mine to play with?”

You hadn’t excepted for her to be so… powerful, in every sense of the word. Minnie’s presence was suffocating, and she hadn’t even talked to you yet. How would you not be intimidated? Rumors regarding Minnie’s… skills and preferences traveled freely on campus, so it was only natural that you were both thrilled and curious to see if she’d live up to them.

This time, your trembling fingers and rapid breathing were not from something bad. Rather than that, you were still wary, of course. But also thrilled— and aroused. You could feel your insides starting to get sticky with the anticipation.

Yuqi might have provided the bigger picture, back in her house while dressing you up, but the result of your imagination went far beyond her simple phrases and grunts.

“Remember,” Yuqi told you, diverging your attention from Minnie for the last time. “If you happen to want out anytime, just say red, and she’ll stop. Deal’s still up, even then.” She meant to speak some more, but Minnie’s impatient grunt had her sighing and walking away. “Bye, Y/n. Have fun.” The last part was meant for Minnie, yet you couldn’t help but be curious by the way she kept looking back at you so much.

If you hadn’t known your classmate to be the insensitive, mocking bitch she was, you’d say her tone was a bit pitiful. Surely, you were imagining things by now.

Yuqi was not one to pity anyone, much less you, whom she made sure to mock and laugh over for nearly an entire semester.

Luckily, there was no reason for the two of you to ever meet again after that night. One night, and you’d have all of your issues solved.

You’d just have to survive the charming, devilish girl who stared at you like you were a piece of flesh for a woman starved.

—

Minnie’s had a terrible month. Everyone seemed to have chosen all of their actions strictly to piss her off. The most simple things were enough to throw her off, let it be someone accidentally bumping into her in between the hallways or her professor giving her a 98% instead of 100%. Either way, she has been acting even more insufferable than her normal self for weeks, now.

Naturally, everyone around her had to suffer as well. If she was irritated, they’d have to pay. It was simply how things worked. Her annoyance would only fade if she let it cool off; physically, preferably.

Usually, Minnie would just scream at whoever was nearby, and throw some stuff around until she was tired enough to recompose herself into her well-known steel princess title.

Now, her best friend had provided something even better. A gift, all for her to ruin as she pleased. To take off her frustration until she was satisfied. A girl so angelical, sitting eagerly on the edge of the bed with big, careful eyes that stared at Minnie, waiting.

Minnie would sure make good use of Yuqi’s little doll.

“You really are a beauty.” Minnie licked her lips, tapping your thighs so she was able to position herself between you. Her hands traveled to your chin, inspecting your face with her big, judgmental eyes who seemed to like what they saw. With a caress, she added, “Yuqi chose wisely. You’re just my type. So, tell me, my dear: what can I do to you? How much will my doll take?”

There was no need for Yuqi to tell you to speak nicely. Now, with Minnie hovering over you with her big hands, you realized there was no way you could ever misbehave. In fact, you were glad to be sitting over on the bed, or else you’d fall right away. Each word that came out of her mouth made you shift uncomfortably, unable to close your legs or hide the way she turned you on by being so… powerful. Her assertive, disregarding tone was so hot, and sultry in a way you’ve never experienced before.

Even if you were cheating your way from a class, you felt the need to earn that through the conditions Yuqi had placed under you. Despite her giving you an outing, you’d do no such thing. You’d be Minnie’s perfect doll, and take whatever she gave you.

For your class, naturally. This was all so you’d pass the class you and Yuqi shared.

Purely because of your goals, you looked at Minnie behind your lashes. Your answer came in a tone as low as hers, barely a murmur. “Whatever you think is fit for me to take.”

Minnie’s eyes grew dark with your response. She hummed, clearly pleased, smiling so brightly her pointy canines showed in both corners of her mouth. You were eager to have their marks on your skin. “Oh, she speaks.” Her hands are placed to your legs once again, as she adjusted your thighs so they’re impeccably in place. Always taking her time; going slowly, running her fingers down your skin as she got familiar with your body’s reactions.

“I have a name, you know.” Her thumb parted your mouth, and she watched you suck on eagerly. “Would you use it for me mhm? It’s simple: just call me Mommy.”

She didn't wait for you to gather yourself as she moved her hands all over your body. Squeezing your things, sizing you up. You were eager too, “Yes, Mommy. I can do that.”

“Wonderful.” Minnie’s hand stopped in your clavicle, tapping your wishbone before bending over to whisper in your ear, “Now say it again, baby.”

You gulped, wishing for her to not notice how fast your heart was beating. Still, you did as told. “I’ll take whatever Mommy thinks it’s fit for me to take.”

“Very well, then.”

That did it. Minnie sealed your lips with her own in a possessive, restless kiss. Her tongue invaded your mouth, dominating, dictating the pace as you tried to keep up with her wishes. Surprisingly enough, she tasted sweet, like strawberries from the peak of the season. She took her time, pressing wet kisses on your skin until she pressed her face against your shoulders and bit, harshly. Minnie laughed when you screamed, out of breath from the sudden pain. She dragged your arms to her own shoulders, delighting herself as she traced her nails over your marked skin. More come afterward, as she kissed and bit your arms, neck, and breasts… owning you all over.

You didn’t expect to like the pain. Certainly did not anticipate how much you’d crave the sinking of her teeth, along with the endorphin that came with her kisses soon after.

“My pretty little doll.” Minnie sang as she took a step back to appreciate her work. She frowned upon your disheveled state, clocking her head sideways. Before you even blinked, she was all over you again, pinning your arms up as she tied them against the bed frame with a rope. “Does it hurt?” She asked, running her long nails down your arms with a sickening tone.

Your breath hitched. It burned a bit, and was surely uncomfortable, acting like a constant reminder of your vulnerability. Somehow, you didn’t mind. You’d do anything to have Minnie look at you with such delight in her eyes, anyway. “It’s fine.”

Minnie’s stare was cold enough to cut ice through it. Shivers ran down your body as you remembered your deal, correcting yourself. “No, Mommy.”

“There you go.” She praised, massaging your thighs once again as she adjusted her hair so it stayed out of the way. “Just such a smart, pretty girl you are.”

Yuqi had spent an excruciating amount of time playing dress-up with you, earlier on. She’d dressed you in white stockings and ridiculously small, red panties that had your face burning when she handed it to you.

All the preparation had been worth it. Minnie licked her lips, certainly imagining all the ways she’d ruin you, make you beg, and cry her name out loud. The wet patch in your panties was even a bit embarrassing. But how could you not be desperately wet, from the way she could barely contain her excitement to touch you? You’ve never felt so desired before. So empowered, even if you were currently restrained and wearing clothes that left little to the imagination.

A warm tongue on your clit brought your focus focus on Minnie. She was quick to ruin your pantie's thin fabric, leaving your pussy bare for her delight. Your wetness was obvious, you were sure of it as she hummed and licked until you were a breathless mess under the woman.

It was agonizing, not being able to tangle your fingers on her scalp and push her deeper into your cunt so she’d stop with this slow, taunting pace of hers. Grunting, you pouted, moving your hands in hopes the knot hadn’t been properly sealed.

“Be patient, doll.” Minnie laughed, looking down on you. Smacked her lips, then, satisfied. “I was just getting a taste of what’s mine for the night.”

Instead of her fingers, you were met with a vibrator humming directly into your clit. You roll your eyes in pleasure, moving your hips aching for more. Minnie gritted her teeth, slapping your thighs repeatedly to get you to stop moving.

“You’re moving too much.” She complained, scratching your thighs with her long, carefully styled acrylic nails. They were painted red, too, with tiny sparkles that have her fingers shining even in the dark. “Do I have to tie your legs, too?”

You shook your head, trying to argue against it. There wasn’t a single, coherent thought going through your mind— all you could think about was Minnie’s touch, so harsh against your skin, not satisfied until every inch of your body was left raw, red, and sensitive, and the vibrator sending continuous waves of pleasure to all of your body.

Minnie’s fingers hovered over your abdomen repeatedly, and it took a while for you to realize she was writing small words against your skin. Doll, pretty, hole…

You moaned louder at the realization. Truth be told, you’d do anything to have more of the tingling sensation that was building up in your stomach. You needed more, or else you’d explode.

“More, please.” You asked, taking a deep breath to keep the tears from rolling down your watery eyes. Patience was something you lacked, especially when it came to getting yourself off. “Mommy. I n-need more. More i—inside.”

It was so easy for her to ignore you. Minnie paid you no mind, biting your waist as she reached up to one of your nipples and tugged harshly. Your small breasts allowed her to cup them entirely, as she did. Minnie gripped, smacked, and turned both your tits into stress balls as she made her way to suck on them. It was certain that they’d be sore and bruised in the morning, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

The only thing you could do was moan like a slut, desperate to get more of the pleasure Minnie was so good at offering. She laughed again, so mean and full of herself as she looked down on you. If you still had the smallest bit of pride, you’d be offended by the filthy names she whispered in your ear.

Instead, your moans were lustful and high-pitched.

“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” Minnie shoved her long, thin fingers inside your mouth, careless as you gagged and tried not to throw up as she pushed them deep. They were gone as soon as they appeared, and you couldn’t help but whine at the lack of contact. “You want my fingers, doll? I did my nails today. It’s definitely going to hurt.”

Minnie’s canine teeth always appeared when her smile turned wicked. She showed you her fingers, making scissoring motions like you’d beg for her to do on your pussy. At your desperate nods, she brushed them past your slit as the vibrator’s level increased. “But you like that, don’t you? You like the pain.” There was nothing you could do but agree with her. You needed it, needed the pain mixed with pleasure to add to such a delicious feeling you were experiencing. “Like the slut you are. Don’t worry, love. I’m going to give you just what you need.”

Two of her fingers made their way inside your cunt, moving at a quick pace to match the vibrations. It was, too much, and it burned.

Such an amazing feeling, to have every inch of your body filled by Minnie, the sensation of an orgasm approaching; you can feel it everywhere.

You knew it was how Minnie liked it: messy, hard, and with a bit of pain in the mix. Yuqi had mentioned it as if daring you to back away and call off your deal, but you couldn’t help but think you deserved it.

For not doing well in your exam, you’d feel better with a bit of pain. And it was such a good mix, with the pleasure it came with. Minnie’s lovebites drew blood from your skin, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

All you wanted was more: more of her, more of the fingers that filled you up, more of the hand that tapped your neck, silently grabbing you with possessiveness.

“D-don’t stop, oh fuck. Please never stop please I need this need this so bad I’ll” You were too drunk in pleasure to warn her you were about to cum.

With a high cry, you squirted, arching your back as you gushed all over Minnie’s fingers.

Instead of being grossed out, or even mad you hadn’t warned her like you’d expected, Minnie kissed your neck, pulling you in for a reassuring kiss.

“You look even more beautiful when you cum.” Her praise sent another wave of pleasure into your sensitive body.

You were shaking, thighs moving uncontrollably in hopes of escaping the vibrator that is still pressed to your pulsating clit.

Instead of removing the stimulation entirely, Minnie turned her toy into a quiet hum. You clenched, closing your legs as you arched your hips.

“Take it off.” You cried, breathing heavily. It was too much, your body felt on fire and you were still shaking and breathing heavily.

Surprisingly, Minnie listened to your plead. She pulled it away, forcing your legs open as she resumed her fingers’ movements into a gentle caress on your inner thighs.

“Can’t my doll give me one more?” She asked, kissing and running her teeth through your jawline. Your mind was still fuzzy, hazy from the strong orgasm she’d just given you, and tone was the same one she used to get everything she wanted. Sweet, gentle, and patient. “I’d give everything to see you do that one more time. Fuck, I’m so wet. You were so good for me…”

There was no way out of her trap.

All it took was a nod from you and Minnie was all over your body again. The dress you were in was made for ruining— or perhaps it was Minnie who was too aggressive, too fond of ripping stuff. She quickly got rid of the rest of your clothes, gripping your naked body with a content smile on her face.

“My perfect doll.” She murmured. “Our night is just starting.”

Somehow, you couldn’t wait for her to ruin you even more. You were her doll, after all.

—

“I told you! We always knew you’d nail it!” Chaewon bumped into you, laughing playfully as you stared at your final exam sheet. It had a 100% marked in red, along with a Congratulations :) Good Job you were almost certain that wasn’t written by your professor. “Now, summer break!”

As always, Yunjin's support came in a calmer, soothing way. She smiled just as brightly, moving your shoulders excitingly. “You did, Y/n! Congratulations!”

“Thanks, girls.” You told them smiling shyly as you supressed a shiver. There was an uncomfortable feeling crippling your skin, and you couldn't help but feel like you were being watched. After making sure no one was paying you or your friends any attention, you sighed. “I worked really hard for it.”

The three of you prepared to leave, trying to make your way among the hectic, noisy crowd of students eager to leave university after a full day of classes. You were so engulfed in your friend’s frenzy celebrations you failed to notice an attentive pair of eyes, following your every move through the open area.

Minnie stood idly against the glass floors a few floors above, waiting for you to get past the entryway before returning to her friends, at the cafeteria.

[sanguineterrain]

the worst day of february | jason todd

Summary: Cold and defeated on the worst day of February, you stand on your apartment rooftop, contemplating giving up. Then the Red Hood drops in and makes you tea in your apartment.

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader��

Word count: 2k

Warnings/tags: suicidal ideation, disordered eating and sleeping habits, depression, reader doesn't attempt suicide but thinks about it a lot. a sort of hopeful ending. jason being a really really good guy.

please take care of yourselves - don't read this if you think it'll upset you.

divider

One day in February—it doesn't matter which day; it might be someone else's day too, but it doesn't matter, and it doesn't matter which February either—you realize that you've forgotten how to be happy.

When you think of February, you don't think of much, except that on those big visual calendars of the months that they put up in kindergarten, February is always pink. Pink like an organ. Pink like guts. Pink like love.

But your February—all the Februarys you've had—is blue-gray. It's like someone's cast a moody shadow over your February. It's the director's choice, clearly, to light your February like you're at a wake. It's not your choice. It's never your choice.

Here is the problem. The problem is that you're too scared, but you want the attention of someone who's killed themselves. Shame digs its claws into you at such a perverse thought. But it's true. Even if it's one person who takes a moment to inspect your guts on the sidewalk, or your body in the bathtub, you want them to hold your rigor mortis and say, what a loss. Is there anything I can do?

And then you'd pop up from the bathwater and say, why yes, there is something you can do, would you mind changing the lighting? It's bringing me down.

You're on the roof of your apartment. You don't know why, because as stated, you're too scared. And it's nighttime, and you're a speck of dust, which is comforting at times and haunting at others. Dust on a roof. Easy to be carried off by the wind.

You don't want to die, exactly. You want to rest. No amount of sleep destroys the exhaustion. Instead of marrow in your bones, it's the desire for rest that only comes through death. Unfortunately, despite not wanting to die, death seems to be your only path.

His footsteps are quiet. You don't realize that you're not alone until he's there next to you, hunched over the ledge on his elbows.

You flinch.

"Sorry," Red Hood says, and there's no smoky breath that accompanies his words like they accompany everyone else's. You wonder where the air from his helmet's filter goes.

"It's fine," you say, even though your nervous system is still reeling. It's not fine, because you hate being scared, but it also doesn't matter, so it's fine in that way.

You have a great view from the city up here but appreciating the city is difficult when it's all blue-gray shadows. Your stomach hurts. You've never felt more unbearably yourself in your life.

"Everything okay?" Hood asks.

"Yeah," you say, not bothering to lie. Not bothering to tell the truth either.

"'S cold up here."

"I'm not gonna jump."

"Didn't say you would," Hood says mildly.

"That's why you're here. You think I'll jump, and it's your duty to make sure I don't. But I won't. Too scared. I just wallow instead."

"Wallowing ain't so good either."

"Yeah," you say, throat hurting like you've swallowed a splinter. "Probably not."

An audience would see your funeral-lit life and make the obvious prediction that something bad is about to happen. The director is telling a story, and he's giving hints. You, as the protagonist, are expecting bad things too. Perhaps this is where it starts.

"You live here?" Hood asks.

There should be a curl of fear that strikes you, because Red Hood—terrifying, gangster, born and bred Gotham Red Hood—shouldn't be landing on your rooftop and checking to make sure you aren't gonna spill your guts.

He doesn't seem so terrifying, though. He doesn't seem like a gangster either. And what's wrong with being born and bred Gotham? You like it. Hood is familiar even though you've never met him before. Something about his voice, his stance, the fact that he gives a shit enough to talk to you for a minute. It feels like maybe the universe doesn't want you to kill yourself right then.

"I live here," you say, taking too long to answer.

"Alright," he says. "Lead the way."

You look at him. He's turned around now, facing the roof access door.

"What?"

Hood points a thumb at the door. "Let's go to your place."

"Why?" Why, you ask, instead of the fuck?

"'M thirsty," he says.

Well, if he's here to assassinate you, it won't matter if you bring him to your apartment or not. And now that he's mentioned it, it is cold. Probably because you're up here without a coat. A coat hadn't seemed important when you were in your apartment choking on stale black air.

Maybe you should warn Hood about the stale black air. But you feel like he won't let you return to your apartment if you do.

Hood goes first, leading you back inside. He goes down the stairs slowly, letting you drag and set the pace. It's so stupid. You feel like crying. Why is he going down the stairs with you at your stupid slow pace?

You stop two floors down. This would be another hint to your audience, the fact that you're so close to the roof that you can just climb a couple flights.

You open your apartment. You'd left it unlocked.

"Do you often leave your place unlocked?" Hood asks.

You shrug. "I don't go out enough to get the chance."

Hood doesn't say anything else but he does do the deadbolt when you're inside, as well as the chain lock.

"Shoes off?" he asks. You nod. You both remove your shoes.

Then you stand like you're not in your own apartment. Hood herds you like a sheepdog to your tiny kitchen table. Then he starts opening cabinet doors.

"Got a kettle?" he asks.

You stare at the back of his helmet, your eyebrows knitting. "A kettle? How many Gothamites do you know own kettles?"

"It's the only dignified way to make tea," he says.

Maybe Hood isn't so born and bred Gotham. "Were you raised by British monarchs?"

"Kinda," he says. He evidently gives up on finding a kettle and instead puts water to boil on the stove, even though you have a microwave. Weirdo.

Suddenly, you realize you haven't thought about death for a whole five minutes.

"Got any decaffeinated tea?" Hood asks.

You have a barely opened box of Sleepytime. You point at the top shelf. He hums and retrieves the box, taking out three tea bags to drop into the boiling water.

Hood takes out two mugs. He's surprisingly apt at navigating an unfamiliar kitchen.

He gives you your mug and sits across from you at the table. He's huge at your table, but he gracefully crosses his legs despite the limited space.

"Didja eat?" he asks.

"I had some cereal a few hours ago," you say.

Hood nods. "Fine. But you gotta eat real dinner too."

You don't think it really matters what a corpse-in-training eats, but you nod anyway. Hood's tone invites no deliberation.

"What's your favorite food? Drink your tea."

You scrunch your face and take a hesitant sip. The hot liquid burns your tongue for a moment before you swallow.

"I like pizza," you say. "And burgers. And ramen. But lately, everything tastes like nothing."

You'd tried to find joy in food a few days ago because you couldn't find it anywhere else. You'd torn open a pack of Swedish Fish and shoved the box into your drawer after eating two pieces because it'd tasted like melted plastic to you.

Then you'd bought an expensive brand of chocolate bar, desperate to be happy, desperate to be flooded with dopamine. Nothing. You'd tossed the chocolate, feeling distinctly broken. What monster doesn't find joy in their favorite candy?

You only eat to cure the hunger pains, because you can't take anymore pain. You eat to survive. Not because you want to, but because dying by starvation takes too long.

"That's okay," Hood says. "'S good you're eating."

You scoff. "I don't need consolation."

Hood doesn't give you the satisfaction of an argument. He's going to make you feel alive in a gentler way, even though you don't deserve it. "Drink your tea."

You drink. His mug remains untouched. You feel like you're in a play. This isn't even real tea, it's just colored water. And Hood's stage direction is to not drink his colored water. It's just for show.

You look out the window, expecting to make eye contact with an audience member. You're waiting for the second act. You're waiting for the end.

"I don't want anymore," you say when your mug is half-finished. Trying to finish the tea feels like prolonging the inevitable. The audience wants to go home. They have lives to get back to. They can't live with you and the stage forever.

To your surprise, Hood nods. "Okay. C'mon."

He stands up from the table. You follow him to your bedroom. He pulls open your shirt drawer. You notice the two guns strapped to his hips, two strapped to his ankles, and one bigger gun on his back. You wait for the director's guidance on how you should feel. None comes, so you remain apathetic.

"Choose a shirt," he says. You pick a plain pink t-shirt. Hood closes that drawer and opens your pants drawer. "Choose."

You take a pair of worn pajama shorts because you overheat when you sleep, especially when you're depressed. You're sweaty from your lie-in till two that you took earlier today. Your face is greasy. You're sure your hair isn't nice either.

"Go change," Hood says, walking out of your room. "I'll be outside." He closes the door behind him.

You change, if only out of shock of the Red Hood giving you orders.

"Done," you say, probably too quiet for anyone to hear. But Hood comes in. He looks you over.

"Good." He points to the bed. "Lie down."

You do. Your sheets are gross. They haven't been changed in at least a few months. You're suddenly swollen with shame that anyone, even the Red Hood, is seeing you in this state. Your eyes fill with stinging tears. You should've died before it came to this.

"I'm sorry you had to stop to do this," you say.

Hood's silent for a moment. Then he walks to your side of the bed. He crouches down. His helmet eyes glow in the dark. You've never been less afraid.

This is a plot twist you did not foresee. A new character. A guardian angel. Red in your blue-gray.

"'S not always gonna feel like this," he says.

More tears, more splinters in your throat. "It's felt like this for so long."

"Yeah," he says gently. Gentler than you fucking deserve. "I know."

The writer has overridden the director's wants, and has introduced some new foreshadowing. Should your audience believe it? Or is this a fake-out?

You lie back and want to die a little less. One young woman in your audience chokes up. She believes that you believe you’ll live. She will stay here for as long as it takes for you to make it through act two.

"If you have to go, it's okay," you say.

Hood settles against the wall near your bed. He pulls one knee against his chest. It's almost like you have a friend.

"Nah," he says. "I don't have anywhere to be. I finished my patrol. I'll stay till you fall asleep."

He doesn't ask to stay, and that feels good, not having to make the choice, to face the shame of wanting another person to care about you.

You screw your eyes shut. "Thank you," you whisper.

"I'm gonna bring you a kettle," Hood says.

You laugh. It's small and brittle but it's real. "Okay." You'll have to make it through the night. Red Hood is bringing you a kettle.

You lay there for a long time, not sleeping. You keep your eyes closed. You focus on keeping your breathing even. Then you open your eyes to check.

Hood is still there, sitting against the wall. You wonder if he's fallen asleep too. His voice startles you.

"Still here," he says. "Said I wouldn't go till you sleep. Meant it. Don't worry."

Maybe tomorrow's sun won't be so blue or gray. You fall asleep.

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 143 (The Wedding Reception)

After the newlyweds and their guests posed for photos, they had just enough remaining light to mingle before the caterers - Suri and her grandmother, Clara Bjergsen - put out the food. With permission, Ash raced into the spiral maze to take a selfie with Sophie the Snail, searching for treasures in the ferns beneath the carved stone slug.

What he found looked confusing - like a mint green box with a circle of numbers wearing earmuffs, and Ash raced back to ask his family what it was. "I think it could be a telephone," Heather guessed. "They used to be plugged into walls."

Felix smiled. "I haven't seen one of those for at least sixty years! It's a rotary dial phone. You dial the number by spinning the wheel. But people used to think this took too much time, so they invented phones with buttons and speed dials, and these fell out of use."

Ash was enthralled by what Felix knew of history. "Will it still work?"

"I don't think so. Most landlines have been discontinued because everyone uses mobile phones these days."

Ash glanced eagerly at Heather and Conrad. "Can I still keep it? It looks so cool!"

Heather smiled. "Of course you can. That's how Sophie the Snail works. Leave something for someone else to find, and whatever you find yourself is yours to keep!"

Curious Conrad looked at the old fashioned phone. "I wonder who left it there."

"Do you think it was the time traveler Emit Relevart is looking for?"

Heather shrugged. "I looked him up online after we saw the report on Simlandia National, but I didn't find out anything they weren't already reporting on the news. He loves science and technology, believes in time travel, and has blue hair."

Felix and Lilith perked up as Lavender called her mother's attention. "You saw the news report, too? I've been trying to convince Felix to take a detour to Willow Creek on our way back to Britechester to see if we can find him."

The former ghost smiled at his beloved. "After everything with Ash in Sulani, you still want to jump through time? I've told you the past wasn't nearly as wonderful as the present."

"Right, but you said it wasn't as wonderful because I wasn't there. My podcast would blow up if I could talk about what it's like to time travel! But more than the podcast, I want to see things you've seen, with you, and I bet a time traveler could help us!"

Though less enthusiastic, Felix took seriously his responsibility to make Lilith happy. Love like this was exactly what he'd stuck around for, waiting for his chance to live again. "It would be a dream to walk miles of old streets with you, Lil. We'll go to Willow Creek, find this 'Emit,' and we'll see what he knows about the future."

To make it to Willow Creek and home to Britechester before too late, Felix and Lilith left soon after food was served. Kris also returned early to San Myshuno with Betta when the four-year-old grew tired and cranky, but there were still plenty of loved ones left to enjoy the buffet-style spread, including fruit-decorated cupcakes instead of a cake, just like Lavender had requested.

They were grateful to Suri and her grandmother for providing such wonderful food. Conrad even gave Suri a huge amount of money autonomously (all of it wtf?! At least we have a money tree), calling it an investment into her takeover of the Salty Paw, and her hope to turn it from a dive bar to a slightly more upscale licensed cafe.

"I can't believe you and Heather would do that for me," said Suri with a smile and warm embrace for the groom. "My catering rates are a lot lower than this!"

"You're a great chef and we believe in your ideas. Hazel loves you, and Heather and I believe in your plans for the Salty Paw. Just try not to lose that smell about the place. We'll miss it if you really clean it up."

Suri laughed. "You're in luck. I don't think that smell would disappear even if I tore down every single wall and built from the ground up."

Heather spent extra time catching up with her sister Holly, who she hadn't spent meaningful time with since the winter holidays. "Life is busy in the city with Kris and two busy girls, but that's nothing compared to what you've been through lately."

"I really think Ash has been okay since it happened, but we're going to take him to a counselor, regardless. He has a lot of questions about everything, but he really seems like himself."

"But how are you doing? Your son was kidnapped!"

"Honestly? As long as I remind myself he's okay, I don't beat myself up with guilt. But sometimes I watch him sleep just to make sure he's still there. Conrad wants to put a sofa in his bedroom so I get enough rest for the baby."

"And his ex is definitely going to prison?"

Heather nodded. "She's not getting a jury trial and Rafa gave up details on several unsolved cases, plus the whereabouts of some weapons stockpiles around the city, so Felix is fairly confident he'll get his sentence down to a year, at most, because he was a minor for most of the stuff he's wanted for."

"He killed all those men; aren't you worried he's dangerous?"

Heather shook her head. "I used to be, but I met him. And after everything he's done, I'd trust him with my own life. We would have wanted him here for the wedding if he wasn't in custody."

As the night wore on, guests ate and chatted while Lavender occupied her doting grandparents' attention, and Heather finally found a moment to chat with Mortimer about her recent trip to Selvadorada. She'd been meaning to ask him about the medallion she and Spencer had seen at the museum, inscribed with a message from Malcolm A. Landgraab to Lady Victorine Goth, but she'd been so busy since her return.

"Lady Ravendancer was my great-great-grandmother," admitted Mortimer, his brow creased in thought. "Family rumours of her infidelity to my great-great-grandfather, Lord Samuel Goth, have carried for over a century, but the medallion would be the first piece of evidence to support it."

The writer smiled to himself as he considered the historical discoveries he might find - a dramatic story of betrayal and spellcaster magic, if they were lucky. "If my great-great-grandmother had an affair with a Landgraab, it could explain how the families became such fierce rivals in business. The Landgraabs wanted to settle the west, but the Goths wouldn't let them do it alone."

"Do you think it has anything to do with the old pirate's curse you told me about?"

Mortimer shot her a look of sympathy. "It might. I should make a trip out to visit the family archives in Willow Creek; it might give more insight on this medallion in the jungle."

She thanked him as the moon came out above the trees. Lavender curled into a ball to nap on the benches near her sleepy Aunt Hazel and Uncle River - it had been a long day and was now well past her bedtime - and the guests slowly began to wish the newlyweds well and head home. Ash made his way to the treehouse to play, changing into warmer attire as a sign the wedding festivities were drawing to a close.

Heather and Conrad had no time for a honeymoon and returned to their busy lives in Brindleton Bay, but they would cherish the memories made today for the rest of their lives. ->

<- Previous Part (Wedding Album) | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

NOTE: And that's it! Conther is married!! I realize this reception was a lot of just letting sims do autonomous things and didn't have any photogenic traditions like first dances and cake-cutting, but letting sims be sims gives surprising plot sometimes! It led to Conrad and Heather giving money to Suri "to invest in her upscale cafe," which I didn't plan for but it's indicative of how supportive this legacy family is, and they've accepted Suri despite the scandalous start to her relationship with Hazel, so I liked it! (After getting over the initial shock of having zero simoleons out of nowhere! This autonomous interaction is always such a jump scare, like 'where is all my money?!' 😂)

I also got to send Ash for a selfie with Sophie, to mirror the one his mother took at the statue in childhood because someone (I think @pixeldistractions? I'm sorry if I'm misremembering!) suggested making it tradition, while also tying it in to the Blast From the Past event. No he didn't really find the phone under there as part of the quests but since it's a common hiding place for some exciting things, I had to pretend he did. He really found some snowdrops, which is cool because winter just ended for the next 16 years! Nonetheless, he'll hold on to them, because my sims hoard things in their inventories like mad, just in case I can use them later.

[hirschkuh-traumvoll]

Breakfast with my love

the plot is: waking up and having g breakfast with alastor

words ≈ 2.9

warnings: slightly suggestive by the end but all in all very fluffy; alastor is a bit ooc

author's note: it was published before on my shadowbanned blog, and i'm SO SORRY @kikihikaru if it was not visible for you that i tagged you 😭😭 it was a great pleasure to write this work and i hope you like it 🥺🥺

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

Alastor tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear. With the back of his hand he gently brushed down your cheek, his arm slid to the small of your back and in your sleep you clung closer to him. You huddled up, snuggling closer to Alastor under the blanket, as if you wanted to melt in his warmth. He softly chuckled, he liked this time of day, these morning hours, when you pressed yourself so tightly to him, avoiding your waking up. Though you used to complain how much you hated mornings, Alastor wondered if you were honest about it, because, judging by the genuine smile adorning your face when you left your sweet somnolence, all you felt was quiet happiness. Your eyes radiated tenderness, your voice spoke sweet greetings to him, arms weakly embraced his waist. No, since you had moved to Alastor's room, you felt no hatred for awakenings, nor for mornings, nor for hell itself. And Alastor was glad he was the reason making you cherish the hours you once cursed.

But wasn't it too long for sleeping? Alastor glanced at the clock above the fireplace, it was almost breakfast time. Alastor sighted and patted your head, his claws just slightly brushed your scalp, sending shivers down your spine. You moaned sleepy and hid your face in his chest.

“Darling. Darling, wake up.” He whispered in your crown. Though he hadn't been sleeping, his voice sounded husky after keeping silent for the whole night. “Darling.”

“No.” You muttered in his pajamas, and Alastor felt how you clenched the fabric of his shirt in your small fists, clinging even closer.

“Darling, it's breakfast time.” He pronounced a little louder but still softly enough not to break the morning peace. “We’d better go downstairs, dear.”

“No.” You refused again and nestled your leg between his, throwing another leg on his hip. You showed how stubborn you were in your attempt to prolong the cosy morning. Alastor was so warm, his arms on your body were so heavy, and the static noise he made lulled you back to sleep so gently, how could you resist? No, you didn't want to leave bed even though now you could feel not even Alastor's tummy-rumbling but yours as well. So unnoticed by you, you fell asleep again. Alastor understood it as he heard your faint wheeze. What a sleepyhead you were!

You stayed in bed for some time. Alastor enjoyed the landscape of the morning bayou shrouded in haze, he kept you close and listened to your heartbeat. But as he felt another annoying grumble in his stomach he took his eyes away from the woods and looked down at you. You were sleeping so peacefully.

Alastor tucked you tighter in the blanket, put his hands under your waist and knees, and lifted you with the blanket he wrapped you in. He left the room with the sleeping cocoon you turned into.

The first sinner he met was a tall and awkward snake, who nervously waved at him and stuttered, “G-good morning, Mr. Radio Demon Ssssir!” and stayed at the door he had just locked. Alastor glared at him, baring his gums in a grin, worried that the shout of this idiot could wake you up. The sinner pressed his body to the wall, heavy blush on his dark scaly skin, as Alastor passed him by.

“And good morning to you! Ah, ow, she's sleeping, I'm ssssory.” The snake man put his hands on his mouth, finally realising that his exclamations only disturbed and were not wishful. But who it even was..?

Alastor narrowed his eyes at him…

Ahh! The one who ruined his coat! Well, that sinner didn't deserve his attention. But perhaps only…

“Good morning, my friend!” Alastor expressed his scorn in the sharpest grin of his yellow fangs and low whisper. The lights in the room went dimmer, making the red glow of his eyes brighter and more ominous.

The sinner gasped, pressing even closer to the wallpaper behind him and swallowed hard. The scones lit up again and with a smirk Alastor went forward.

You woke up because of a strange rocking feeling, as if you were drifting somewhere in the waves. You lazily opened your eyes, the so familiar corridor with maroon walls and carpeted floor stretched forward, rocking up and down before you.

Immediately you realised that you were being carried in the arms. You were still wrapped in the soft blanket, strong arms tightly held you, and your head propped against the shoulder of the only one who it could be. You looked up at your beloved. Alastor smiled down at you with a mix of pride and tenderness as every time he held you this style. But this was the first time when you were a cocoon wrapped in a duvet, while he was carrying you down the corridor. Well, it was even better than when he just carried you bridal-like. You smiled at him, lay your head on his shoulder and felt how he pressed his cheek to yours just for a few seconds.

“Oh my Satan, good morniiiiing!” You looked in the direction of the cheery voice. Charlie, of course. For your standards Charlie’s energy in the morning was rather frightening, but Vaggie's frown, piercing right to your side, was even more intimidating, as if it was your personal fault that morning was so disturbing. Well, perhaps there indeed was a little bit of your fault — her gaze was concentrated on the hands holding you and it was common knowledge how much Vaggie disliked Alastor. You felt your cheeks blushing, understanding that you were in Alastor's arms in front of the girls and it seemed he wasn't to put you down, moreover he slowed his pace as he reached the couple and stopped in front of them. His smile became more smug.

“Good morning, my dear.” He said to the princess, who brought her palms under her face, cocking her head in adoration, watching you two.

“Oh, you look so good together. I've never thought-!” Charlie interrupted herself, panicking she chose not really suitable words, but immediately continued her short eulogy with the same passion as in the beginning, “Oh, I mean, I-I always believed… but I also always doubted that it was possible for you, Alastor! But look at you now! Both are so lovable and sweet! Tell them, Vaggie!” Charlie shook Vaggie's shoulder, waiting for her response. Charlie's eyes radiated rapture, her shining smile infected you, and you couldn't help breaking into a shy smile, imagining how cute you looked wrapped in the blanket, carried in your beloved's arms.

Alastor seemed not very impressed with the speech, but nevertheless nodded to Charlie, thanking her, not really knowing for what exactly but considering it was expected from him. As much as he loved being with you, holding you, kissing you, talking to you, he loved to share these moments privately.

Vaggie raised one brow and sighted,

“Can't you walk yourself?”

“C'moooon, Vaggie, aren't they adorable?” Charlie threw her head back in frustration. But before you could give a proper answer, Alastor pressed you closer to his body and purred, looking directly at Vaggie,

“Of course she can but why would she need it when there is a gentleman like me nearby? Right?” And he winked at you. Vaggie crossed her arms, looked at you. She never trusted Alastor and always worried about you. And now there were doubts in her look but also something glimmering as hope. And you gave her a smile, a sincere and the one you'd been suppressing all this time. You also let yourself relax in the arms holding your, loosened your embrace around Alastor's neck, let your head fall on his chest. Vaggie's eye widened and she lowered her head, hiding a forming smile. She looked up at you again,

“Alright, lovebirds, we will be downstairs soon. Don't drop her!”

“How funny.” Alastor hissed through his grin and passed the girls by. You chuckled at how Alastor twitched at Vaggie's sudden ‘lovebirds’. You followed with your eyes: Charlie bent to her girlfriend and whispered to her something with blooming cheeks, her angel only nodded at her and, seeming to feel your gaze on her, cast you a look. Then she turned to Charlie, replying to her something, and next second the hotel's corridor filled with the cheerful “Hooray!” of the princess.

Your face lit up with a smile again and returned your look to your beloved. What a handsome man he was! You simply couldn't take your eyes from his face, adoring his profile, lips, hair, eyelashes… everything. The flickering lights fell on his face, giving his ashen skin a warm hue as if he was in the sun, and these lights reflected in his crimson eyes. You could discern thin raspberry lines raying in his irises, as if the red sun was caught in his eyeballs. So many shades of red were in his eyes… His profile was something too perfect to belong to a sinner from hell. He had a high forehead, a pointed up nose with a smooth bridge and thin nostrils, thin and pale lips adorned his face in a self-confident smile, and looking how his chin jutted out you couldn't suppress your desire to leave a quick kiss there. Immediately you were rewarded with a strict sideway glance which looked so funny with a pinkish blush on his cheeks. But a joke forming in your mind had to be forgotten because of a sudden and indeed loud rumbling of your stomach. Alastor cocked his eyebrow at you,

“Was that peck an attempt to have me for breakfast?”

The dissatisfaction of your belly became louder, and you clung closer to your man, cooing against his neck,

“I really want to eat, Alastor…”

“Want to eat me?” He dramatically raised his voice, making a shocked face and then shook his head, “Darling, you can only hope.”

It wasn't your intention to make your statement sounds equivocally, but played up to Alastor anyway,

“No, I'm so hungry, I'll literally devour you!”

“You can try.” He purred, giving you that look which made your cheeks burn brightly.

“No, that's too much for morning.”

You and Alastor turned to the low voice. Husk sent an accusing glimpse at your side and closed the door of the room, before he could make a step out of it. Alastor narrowed his eyes at the door as if attempting to burn a hole in it and right into the cat's back. But there was another grumbling, causing you to roll up more in your cocoon.

“Let's go, Al, or I'll really eat you up.”

“Would you like to have some beignets, dear?” He continued the way.

“Mmm… I adore them, you know.”

“Very well.” He whispered close to your ear, so close you could feel his wet breath on your skin.

On your further way down the corridor you met Angel. He'd just left his room and was heading to the stairs when noticed you. He froze with his arms outstretched and his mouth opened in a yawn, lips immediately curved in a smirk and arms fell on his hips. By the way he cocked his eyebrow and crossed his arms under the fluff of his chest, you knew that you would hear some obscenity now.

“The night was so rough, can't even walk now, babe?”

“Enough.” Alastor stopped.

All he wanted to do is make that morning delightful for you, but why on earth (or hell) did everyone think that this was their business as well? As if their ridiculous commentaries could gladden you, as if their waves and smiles could rejoice you more than his ones. Nonsense! Your happiness was only his, Alastor's, business.

A huge shadow raised from below as if appearing right from the air and enveloped you and Alastor from head to toe until your vision completely dissolved. In cold darkness you still felt Alastor's hands on you and only that let you not to surrender to the increasing panic that pounced at anyone who travelled through the shadows. You gave in to the heat radiating from Alastor's body, closed your eyes, though all you could see was darkness anyway. And when the static noise in your ears died away you opened your eyes and found yourself in the hotel's kitchen. Cold slid from your limbs away.

Niffty, standing at the table and preparing breakfast for the residents, heard the familiar popping of white noise and turned around. Alastor had just put you down in a soft armchair. He conjured two wingback chairs and a round coffee table in a corner of the room especially for you two. It was sweet how he built secluded islands for two of you to bask in intimacy away from prying eyes.

It was pretty hot in the kitchen, so you let the blanket slide from your shoulders, and Alastor left a little kiss on your shoulder, promised, whispering in your ear, that breakfast would be very soon. You watched him coming up to Niffty, greeting her with a simple “Good morning” at which she responded with a wide smile. Perhaps a little demoness was the only person in the hotel he didn't mind meeting now. She was the only one who didn't react to his relationship with you, and it was just what he wanted everybody to learn from her. She took this relationship as self-evident and didn't stress (unlike others) what kind of gaze Alastor gave you, or how you touched his hand, or how he carried you to the kitchen when you were still too sleepy to move your legs or anything else. In her eyes you and Alastor were just what you had to be and there was no need to create a buzz around it.

Less than twenty minutes later Alastor put two plates on the table, and Niffty placed two big mugs. You breathed in the bitter aroma of black coffee, blended with the sweet scent of fresh beignets.The powdered sugar melted on gold buns and you hastened to take one in your hand. Seemed like Alastor used his magic powers to fry the dessert so quickly, but you absolutely liked it, because you felt dying for the second time of hunger.

“Bon appetit!” Niffty wished with a shining eye, and you barely had time to thank her with a mouthful before she slipped off to the dinning room where the hotel crew had already gathered. The hubbub and loud laugh reached your hearing as Niffty opened the door, and you mentally thanked Alastor for always finding a quiet place for you. The door softly closed, muffling the uproar, and Alastor took his place in front of you, crossing his legs. He placed his chin on his hands, feasting his eyes upon you. He swung his foot and it touched your calf as if accidently, but by the playfully smile on his lips you knew he was doing it on purpose. And he only stopped when you ran your foot up his calf.

“Hm. You know, my dear, we will never go through these corridors again.”

“But why?” You chuckled at him. Of course you knew why, but wanted to see how Alastor would explain it. He always looked annoyingly sweet justifying his decisions.

He took a sip from his mug and said,

“Because in the morning, my dear, I want to hear only your voice, and I want to see only your face. And I, if I may go as far, want to have a tete-a-tete with you.” He added, placing the mug on the table and leaning forward, “Can we arrange that? After breakfast, of course.”

“S-sure.” You said with a little cough. You almost choked with coffee you drank under his ogle.

“Marvellous!” He started eating but looked up at you again as you spoke,

“You know I loved this journey so much. It was so good to be in two of my favourite places at once.”

“How's that?”

“Under my blanket and in your arms,” You smiled coquettishly.

“Hmm.” Alastor tapped his chin with his forefinger, as if thinking about something thoroughly. “And I thought there was another place pleasing you.”

“And what is this?” You tilted your head.

Instead of answering he tapped his lap.

“No.” You laughed, feeling the air in the kitchen becoming hotter. Or perhaps it was your cheeks.

“Why not, my dear? We're alone now.” And with a roll of his eyes he added, “Finally.”

You cleared your throat and left the armchair to slowly come up to Alastor and sit on his lap. Immediately his hand found your waist, pressing you closer.

“Don't tell me, you'll feed me.”

“Oh, I will.”

And nothing disturbed you from each other while you were having breakfast, Alastor being leaned back in his armchair, and you leaning against his chest. You insisted on feeding yourself, but a compromise was letting Alastor bring a beignet to your lips so you'd take a bite. Everything was peaceful with Alastor's palm on your waist, with his breath fanning in your hair, with your hands bringing him his mug of coffee, with your back against his beating heart. Indeed it was the morning worth awakening.

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

[adhd-fandom-hyperfocus]

✧₊⁺ Remember ✧₊⁺

Pairing: Raserei (Primarch oc) x Reader

Summary: To stop the freed Primarch of the 2nd legion from suicide missions and to maybe clear the dark malaise that plagues him, Guilliman assigns a personal remembrance to his brother. However, most of the Imperium at large have not seen the rumored fiend primarch of the 2nd.

Part 1/?

Arthur's Note: I am terrible at keeping POV when writing in the third person and try to do omniscient, but again I am no real writer.

Warnings: general gimdarkness.

18+ Minors DNI

★。------ ＼｜／------。★

Raserei struggled to find a place in the world he had woken to. Every trace of his homeworld was gone, not a single missive or breath of his people ever existing, his legion slain or absorbed into other legions. Though with careful mindfulness their gene-seed died out; his gene-seed. Even his false sons were robbed of him. A primarch of nothing, a specter to nothing in particular. A failed project not cared for enough to properly discard of.

Heavy, dark thoughts swirled in his head, threatening to allow little fissures into his mind; his fabricated soul and let the whispers of those who sow ruin in. It was that which moved his hand over the parchment. This need to push back the side of him he hid from Guilliman, hid even from The Emperor; at least he believed so. Perhaps his creator always knew there was a tinge of black in his soul. Something hollow always looking for something to fill it. A beast that lurks just below the skin that is stretched too thin.

The pen moved with grace as he tried to put memory to it. Planes of their faces. He had to remember because everything was getting foggy; had been foggy since he awoke. Weren't their minds supposed to be perfect? So why was his fading? Why couldn't he fully remember their faces anymore?

A knock at the door to his chambers stilled his hand. Though the pacing of the knocks were calm; they were too heavy for one of the baseline serfs, and too out of sync to be one of Guilliman's sons. Raserei felt the corners of his lips twitch. He wondered if Roboute knew his knock sounded more human than his sons? How inhuman they really were at times.

"Enter," Raserei said, moving his project inside one of his desk drawers.

The Fiend Primarch of the second held a callous stare as Guilliman entered his quarters. While their relationship has grown, there is still much tension between the two demigods. The reasons for Raserei's erasure from history and memory caused great strain between the brothers. As Guilliman's memory of the events was murky, clearly a sign his mind had been tampered with. But that did not mean he trusted the man's recollection before him.

As Guilliman entered the room he stood to the side revealing you to the daemon-looking primarch.

Raserei craned a brow before returning his attention to Guilliman, "I will assume there is a reason why you are disturbing me?"

Guilliman nodded, "I know," Guilliman paused ever so briefly, knowing the weight of what he was about to say. How hypocritical it would sound to his lost brother, "All of your past deeds have been stricken from Imperial record. That things are not what they seem, or perhaps how I remember...But I wish to try and amend this. I present you with your own Remembrancer. They were not formed yet in the early days of the Crusade, but they have become quite beneficial in recording events and people of the Imperium's histories. A good number of us had them before..."

Raserei held a massive clawed hand up to quiet his brother, "I have heard of this order. However, I was under the impression they were all on Terra, merely writing history and not living it. And why would I need one?"

His brother frowned deeply, "I cannot replace what was lost, but I hope to keep and save what happens forth. Perhaps you could tell her about what was lost?" the last part Guilliman said quietly.

The lord of the 2nd didn't speak, nor move his gaze from his brother. Finally, he spoke, "No."

Raserei's tone was deadpan, and upon delivering his answer the monstrous man seemed to go about ignoring the pair in his presence, as if the matter was handled.

"No? I am not giving you a choice in this," Guilliman's voice was firm. He did not wish to start an argument, nor to explain that this was a ploy to get his brother to stop flinging himself against the enemy so wantonly. The Avenging Son knew what a death wish looked like, and Raserei screamed it silently, "I am assigning them to you. The Imperium has fallen in it's ability to account for things, and this is my way of making sure such details and events are properly recorded."

Raserei glared at his brother, but as soon as he went to speak Guilliman was already guiding you in and making his exit.

༺═──────────────═༻

You were told it was a great honor, but you knew it was punishment. Honor would be following the Regent Lord, one of his champions or even the Primarch Lion or Dante. No, being sent to be a personal remembrancer for the possibly heretical primarch of the 2nd was unspoken cruelty by those above you who were angered by you daring to point out their errors.

Though, when Guilliman himself told you he saw this as a great chance to make amends for something he never elaborated on, it did make you feel somewhat better. After all you got to meet The Avenging Son yourself! Stand in his presence, and it was him who asked for this. So perhaps this was in it's way a blessing from the Emperor!

As you followed him through the halls of the ship, to where his brother and his men stayed, the primarch of the second explained how the 2nd Legion was small in number and not ready to man a ship of their own, yet. So you will have the honor and glory of accounting for their reformation and rise to greatness.

But when you stopped at a door, your heart pounded. No one had seen this lost primarch before, only rumors spread through the Imperium. How, the God-Emperor's chosen almost censured Guilliman for him being released. Everything was shrouded in mystery and darkness regarding this primarch's return.

Guilliman cleared his throat and stood aside, leaving you in the unforgiving stare of a creature nothing short of a daemon. Your chest tightened and your lungs refused to fill with air. His gaze was crushing. The inhumanness of his nature was more oppressive than the Lord Regent. You try to bow, but your knees buckle as your legs wobble.

Meeting the Lord Regent left you awe-struck, but seeing the man, no creature before you made you fearful. Was this why this primarch was stricken from all histories? All records? A daemon among the God-Emperor's sons?

The hold of his gaze released you as he refocused on Guilliman. The exchange was brief and you were soon being ushered into the room to be alone with a clearly disgruntled primarch. Your ears burned hot with fear. You couldn't move or speak. His gaze fixated on you. There was something in that pale eye of his that held you in place. Like it was searching, rending your soul bare. It was like death was looking at you and judging if you were to be reaped. A look of the grave. Cold and still.

"I do not know who you angered to be sent to me, but do not stand there like a scared animal," he smirked at you, "You have nothing to fear, I already ate."

And then there was crushing darkness.

[palettepainter]

EDIT: Lowkey kind of already attatched to Cuddly-

Changed his human name so he has a different surname, realised I accidentally gave him the same surname as Kevin

Also some funfacts about him that I either couldn't fit on his ref sheet or I just came up with and wanna share

-He acts a lot like Kissy. I like to hc that as the security Huggy is more intelligent then Kissy, or is at least better at making decisions in spur of the moment type situations. Cuddly is a lot like Kissy in the sense he is often curious, kind and on occasion timid

-Cuddly's bigger body experiment was a trail run to see how successful experimenting on especially young kids could work, and with Cuddly being marketed as the baby to Huggy's and Kissy's husband and wife dynamic in marketing, Cuddly wasn't given the same deadly features as them. He has teeth, but they're more like nubs, they're not as sharp as either Kissy's or Huggy's

-Not sure if I'll make this one cannon to him but these are living toys, anything is possible: had the idea of Cuddly having retractable teeth. Due to him being designed as the 'baby' to the Wuggy family, Cuddly was designed in mind to interact with the younger kids (toddlers and babys, kids no older then 6), and especially around babies Cuddly had to be designed carefully to ensure no accidents would happen. His gums can sort of fold backwards to hide his teeth

-As well as velcro hands and feet, Cuddly also has beans in his hands, feet and body, so there's a very soft thud to his padded feet when he moves about. The bow on his body is also made of felt and is attached to his body, this was to lessen choaking risks since he'd be around little kids and babies

-Since Cuddly spent a lot of his time around the younger kids, and young kids - especially babies - don't have a real grasp of fear at such a young age, Cuddly is in some ways the same. This can lead to him sometimes wondering off too far without actually realising how far he's gotten

-This one will depend if we ever hear Kissy or Huggy speak, but if Cuddly could talk, his speech would be very broken and it would take great effort in his part to pronounce even the most simplest of words. Since his bigger body counterpart experiment was a trail run, once the scientists were assured that Cuddly would proove to be a success, they didn't develop his vocal cords much, hence why he would struggle to talk

-As well as his vocal chords, his intelligence also isn't the greatest, hence why he is so curious in nature because he often genuinely doesn't understand things. He can understand people and toys fine, but overly complicated requests or shouting can lead to him sort of freezing up on the spot

-Like Huggy and Kissy have been shown to do in the game he can make little shrieking noises and often prefers this to talking

-Kissy and Huggy are canonically 18ft tall, Cuddly is much, MUCH smaller then them, and stands a bit taller then the average person at 6ft

-(these dates may be wrong I'm not good at remembering dates) Huggy's bigger body was created in 1990 so it's safe to assume that from a logical standpoint Kissy was created sometime after, then Cuddly. Cuddly was created sometime after the Rowen Stoll incident, by putting this child based toy around Huggy Playtime Co hoped to ease any suspicion or unease Rowen had created amongst the other workers

-The introduction of Cuddly greatly help ease Kissy's anxiety and anxious tendancies, and Huggy got to learn how to better act around small ones. Being a security measure Huggy is good with kids, but personally I like to believe Kissy excels with kids more than him

-Cuddly's bigger body is a far bigger success then the small toy versions of him, having him be at a closer height to a human made him less intimidating and daunting to little kids. Playtime Co made Cuddly an exclusive at Playcare to make the kids feel comfortable (this sadly though caused Kissy's anxious tendancies to return and for Huggy to go back to his viciousness when it came to handling security)

So uhm...I didn't plan to make more Poppy playtime OC's, but like...theoretically, if I DID...what would you guys think about that??

[samwellwinchesterthebrave]

BuckTommyFluffebruary day 16: Waking up Together for the First Time

This is day 16 of the challenge by @bucktommyfluffebruary and this is also the only prompt I switched out. It was originally AU: didn't know they were dating and I switched it to waking up together the first time. A little bit of angst and a lot of fluff

In Your Arms

Read on ao3

Rating T / Words 940

Buck slowly rose to consciousness feeling warm, comfortable, and safe. A heavy weight spread against his back, an arm slung over his belly. There were legs tangled with his and, his thoughts moving like molasses, he marveled that his partner had long enough legs to do that.

He stretched a little against the weight at his back, a couple vertebrae popping. It felt good and he let out a quiet groan. It was matched by a decidedly masculine sound from behind him and the arm over his belly tightened.

Wait.

Masculine.

Wait.

His eyes snapped open. Buck's sleep-fogged mind wasn't able to parse the sound his partner had made. His mind was empty, no answers coming to him. He looked down to see a (familiar) masculine arm holding him. But, other than that first flash of surprise and anxiety, he felt great. That this was perfect.

This was right.

“Evan?” a gravelly voice whispered in his ear. The timbre sent a pleasant chill down his back. “You okay?”

Turning his head, Buck saw Tommy’s face tucked into his shoulder. A soft wave of affection flowed through him and Buck smiled. Memories came back. Their date last night, the second since Maddie and Chimney's wedding. They'd walked a hiking trail in the park then sat on an outdoor patio for dinner. They'd come back to Buck's loft and had spent a good hour just kissing each other. Their hands had roamed but above waists.

They were taking it slow. Not that Buck didn't think he'd enjoy sex with Tommy. He was looking forward to that. But because this felt momentous and they wanted to savor every step. Besides, he was rapidly becoming addicted to kissing Tommy.

“Yeah,” Buck whispered. “Absolutely. Good morning, Tommy.”

“Mmmm, morning,” Tommy replied.

Nuzzling against Buck's shoulder, he pressed a kiss to the curve. Then he cracked his eyes open and looked at the window. It was still dark outside, though there was a faint gray tinge to the sky. False dawn.

“Not quite morning yet,” Tommy continued wryly. He smiled when Buck chuckled. After pressing another kiss to Buck's shoulder, he continued, “How are you feeling? You were kind of stiff for a moment there.”

“Just... getting used to it,” Buck admitted after two heartbeats of silence. “A guy in my bed. A guy wrapped around me. I'm not often the little spoon.”

“We can move,” Tommy offered immediately, starting to pull his arm back. “I can even go to the couch. I don't want you to be uncomfortable.”

“No, wait,” Buck said, grabbing Tommy’s wrist. He could feel tension in the muscles along with a slight tremble. Looking over his shoulder, he saw a flash of worry and hurt in Tommy’s eyes. “I want you to stay. Please.”

“Are you sure?” Tommy pressed after a deep breath. He stayed completely still, eyes on Buck.

“Yeah,” Buck nodded, pulling Tommy’s arm back over his belly. He slid his hand up Tommy’s and tangled their fingers together. “It wasn't bad. Just the opposite. It was just... new. I'm sorry if I freaked you out.”

“It wouldn't be the first time a guy regretted waking up with me in his bed,” Tommy muttered, looking away. “I don't want you to feel like you have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

Buck laughed then, let go of Tommy's hand, and rolled over in his arms. He wrapped an arm over Tommy's hips and pulled their bodies close. Then he waited until Tommy looked at him.

“Hey, I know how to say no,” Buck murmured, leaning in and pressing his forehead to Tommy's. “I don't regret having you in my bed at all. It feels like you belong here. I want you here.”

Tommy studied him for a long moment. The hurt had faded and the worry had turned into a growing hope. Buck put everything he was feeling on his own face, how much he enjoyed being in Tommy’s arms, how comfortable it was waking up with him, how much he enjoyed Tommy’s mere presence. It must have worked because Tommy smiled wide enough that his eyes crinkled and his nose scrunched. He leaned in slowly, keeping his eyes on Buck until their lips pressed together. Then, he sighed into the kiss as both their eyes closed.

Their lips moved against each other slowly, no urgency or heat in it. Just touch and the feel of skin to skin. They broke the kiss to lean their foreheads together and breathe quietly. Their shared breaths feathered over each other's lips.

“Promise me that if you ever do feel uncomfortable or not ready for something, you'll tell me,” Tommy murmured, his lips brushing against Buck's as he spoke. “Like you said, this is new for you. I want you happy.”

“Promise,” Buck said, stealing a quick kiss. “As long as you promise too. We're in this together, right?”

“Right. I promise,” Tommy nodded. He tightened his arm over Buck's waist, hugging him for a moment. “How about we get a few more hours’ sleep? The day hasn't even started yet.”

Buck nodded, sighing happily and tucking his head under Tommy’s chin. It took a little reshuffling as they were basically the same height but Tommy seemed happy with it. At least, to go by the way Tommy was running his hand up and down Buck's back. He pressed a kiss over the center of Tommy's collarbone and closed his eyes. Then he drifted off to sleep, still safe and warm in the arms of a man he very much liked, soothed by the motions of the hand over his back.

[hailturinturambar]

Cursed Song.

Pairing: Sauron/Annatar x Mirdania

Word count: 2.955

Request: “I'll do anything with Mirdania/Annatar”

Author's Notes: English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes or confusion. Requests are open, check the information before requesting. I am a great apologist for my girl Mirdania who fell for the seducer Sauron's lies. I don't blame her, I would be the same. And this is what should have happened in that damned forge! This is my Valentine's Day gift to you. This story will have a part two.

Warnings: Manipulation, Coercion, Minor sexual content.

Summary: Mirdania lived many years in Eregion before Halbrand's arrival, and when she discovered that this lying Man was an Emissary of the Valar, she could no longer hide her guilty passion for him. And even Sauron could not pretend to be indifferent to her.

Part I

When Arda was in its youth and the Valar led a war against Morgoth, and Arda underwent countless changes, Beleriand disappeared forever. And so did all the tragedies and wars that had taken place in those lands. The survivors scattered across Middle-earth in search of new refuges, new homes.

These stories were not strange to Mirdania, of course not. She knew all of them deeply, even though she was young at the time when ruin fell on Beleriand. Many tragedies followed her family, and the few who survived lived as wanderers for many centuries, wandering aimlessly. With the passing of the ages and the spread of the Orcs' dominion, Mirdania was all that remained.

There was a place for her, the surviving elves told her. The Kingdom of the Elven Blacksmiths. Her family knew blacksmithing and Mirdania had learned a lot from her father. And perhaps the Lord of Eregion would take her on as one of his apprentices.

Lord Celebrimbor had a special nose for talented Elves, and he recognized Mirdania's talent when he met her. Mirdania proved her ability, and indeed, Celebrimbor promised that she could live in Eregion for as long as she wished. She would be safe with them. For Mirdania, Celebrimbor was like a father.

For many centuries Mirdania lived happily as an apprentice in Eregion, until she formally became part of Lord Celebrimbor's smiths. She truly loved assisting Celebrimbor and taking part in his magnificent creations. For Celebrimbor, it was not just an art, but a blessing that should be shared with all the peoples of Middle-earth. It was contagious.

Middle-earth might be at war, but Eregion was the jewel in the elven crown, the realm for the most skilled elves to show their worth. A different kind of peace reigned over those lands, with their birds singing at dawn. It was as if they lived in a small, forgotten part of Valinor.

However, all this happened before the fall of the Great Tree of Lindon. Lord Celebrimbor was desperate, as was High King Gil-galad. Without the help of the Dwarves, the Elves would be forced to return to Valinor or perish.

They did not wish to return to the land of the Valar, to live as apprentices and no longer masters. Mirdania, of course, understood Celebrimbor's concern. Because she didn't wish to return either. She was happy in Middle-earth. She had been born there and had lived there with her family. Those lands were the last memory of everything she had lost and loved most.

Celebrimbor told Mirdania of his intentions to turn to the Dwarves of Khazad-dûm. It wouldn't be easy, he said, but with calm and intelligence they could heal Middle-earth. The cure, however, took longer than they had hoped and Elrond did not get the result he had hoped for.

King Durin III refused to give the Elves any help, and hope seemed lost. Mirdania had an idea, a risky one, she knew. Her family had been on good terms with the Dwarves for a long time, and perhaps they would remember her.

Lord Celebrimbor reluctantly agreed to her departure, but they had no choice. Even more so when Elrond returned from Lindon to tell them of the Elves' immediate departure.

Only Eru knows the mysteries of Arda and Mirdania never knew that Halbrand was in Eregion while she was traveling to Khazad-dûm. King Durin III received her for old times' sake, but his answer was the same. The Elves were on their own, but he would like Mirdania to spend some time with them.

It took time for Halbrand to convince Lord Celebrimbor of his new ideas for healing Middle-earth. A blessing, perhaps, was that the paths of Mirdania and Halbrand did not cross. Sometimes the Valar have curious ways of running Middle-earth.

Not wishing to abuse Durin III's hospitality, Mirdania returned to Eregion. Celebrimbor was very shaken when she returned. Furious, even. He didn't tell Mirdania what had happened during his departure. Perhaps he should have.

The new forge in Eregion was responsible for the greatest creations seen in Middle-earth in that era. Mirdania had almost forgotten Celebrimbor's unusual behavior. Until Halbrand arrived.

The gates of Eregion were thunderous, though light, and Mirdania walked up to Celebrimbor's Tower to observe the new travelers. She didn't know him, she would have remembered if they had met before. Matted brown hair covered part of the man's face and Mirdania suspected he was mortal.

“Mirdania?” Celebrimbor's voice called out.

“Here, My Lord.” She said, noticing the blacksmith standing next to her. “Do you know him?”

The traveler, whoever he was, was watching Lord Celebrimbor carefully, and Mirdania was sure that they knew each other. Celebrimbor, if we were honest, seemed reluctant to answer his blacksmith.

“Well, My Lord? Do we grant him entry?”

“No.” Celebrimbor replied quickly, startling Mirdania.“Forgive me, my dear. I just didn't expect him to return so soon…"

“Should I ask him to leave?” She asked helpfully, trying to comfort Celebrimbor.

“Yes, yes. I'd like that.”

Mirdania agreed, leaving Celebrimbor alone with his thoughts. She sighed, trying to remain calm. If Celebrimbor wanted him to leave, well, his motives should be reasonable enough.

The courtyard of Eregion was bustling, with many Elves chatting with merchants and apprentices. But that Man with nothing going for him seemed to stand out more than any of them. Alone, he stroked his horse, waiting for an answer from the Lord of Eregion.

Before Mirdania reached him, she noticed that he was watching her. He was laughing, was that it? But it didn't sound like a wicked laugh, more as if he was assessing her, watching her steps with deliberate attention. Almost malicious, even.

“Lord Celebrimbor regrets to inform you he's unable to grant you entry.” Mirdania said seriously, trying to ignore the traveler's smile.

“Mightn't I speak with him directly?” He smiled seductively at her, somewhat comfortably.

“My Lord is occupied.” Mirdania kept her voice steady. “But he wishes you good fortune on your journey.”

He seemed to know how beautiful he was and to use that to his advantage. A great seducer, she realized, trying to win her trust with his charm. Well, she couldn't deny that he had a knack for it.

“Are you asking me to leave?” Halbrand asked with a dazzling smile, noticing that Mirdania blushed at his words.

“The Lord of Eregion is asking you.”

Mirdania tried to turn away, but he knew how to be insistent. He hoped that Celebrimbor would change his mind, but Mirdania doubted that her Lord would think otherwise. She herself was tired of him, despite his charm.

However, she couldn't remain indifferent when she noticed the marks on his back. He must have been in terrible pain, traveling for so many days with those wounds still so alive on his skin.

Halbrand, of course, if he had been an ordinary man, would have succumbed to the Orcs' attacks. But Sauron was more powerful than that. He would suffer many attacks before he agreed to fall into the Orcs' hands again. And he couldn't help but notice the pity and concern in her eyes. Mirdania, he had heard Celebrimbor call her.

She was attractive, he himself wasn't blind to that fact, and she didn't know his past. It would be a good way to spend his time in Eregion, as long as Galadriel didn't spoil his plans yet again.

It had been easy for Sauron to isolate Eregion and fall into Celebrimbor's good graces. Just a few sweet words, a few lies about his origin and return, and not even the greatest of Elven smiths was able to see behind Sauron's deception.

For many weeks, Sauron kept Celebrimbor in his grasp, trapped in his web, blinded by his lies. But the Rings were beginning to worry the Elf. Why couldn't he understand that this was the only solution to save Middle-earth?

He wasn't as ambitious as Sauron had hoped, but this could be solved. He knew how to be patient. After so many centuries of living as a formless being, his mere consciousness crawling through a cave, he knew that he would soon achieve his goals.

And he was no stranger to Mirdania's gaze. Oh, if she had felt sorry for Halbrand, she would simply have been fascinated by Annatar. Who wouldn't be? An emissary of the Valar themselves, living with mere Elves in Eregion. An honor without a doubt.

Mirdania thought she was being discreet, but Sauron could easily see what she was feeling, how she always seemed so willing to accept everything he said, everything he asked for. She was also his great defender, always speaking on his behalf.

When Celebrimbor began to lose his mind, Sauron knew he would have to use all his tricks. He hadn't expected Mirdania to be able to see his true nature. He didn't even expect the cursed Ring to work on her. But of course, being so determined to please him, she did her best to create that Ring.

If he wanted Mirdania to stay by his side, to help him when Celebrimbor could see his deception, he needed her to trust him completely. He wouldn't lie that it would be unpleasant to distract Mirdania.

She really was beautiful, a beauty that attracted him the moment they met. She wouldn't be like Galadriel, a problem he would need to remove before the truth was exposed. Mirdania didn't even suspect him, that much he was sure of.

Annatar could hear Mirdania crying in the forge, after all the Elves had left. She was still very shaken. Oh if she only knew that the emissary of the Valar she had been so enchanted by was nothing more than the Evil she had glimpsed when wearing the Ring.

Gasping, he could hear Mirdania trying to hold back her sobs, lest a passing Elf notice her state. Calmly, Annatar entered the forge, observing the Elf sitting alone, her face stained with tears.

“My Lord Annatar!” She replied in alarm, rubbing her reddened eyes. “Sorry, I thought you were alone.”

“There's no need to hide, Mirdania.” Annatar said, compassionately. “Not from me.”

“I look like a complete stupid here, alone.” Mirdania sighed.

Annatar denied it, walking towards her. She was so much smaller than him that it somehow sparked something in him, made him feel powerful. So haughty and majestic that she couldn't take her eyes off him. His presence was intoxicating for her, and that made everything so intoxicating for him. Maybe certain types of company weren't so bad after all.

Standing next to her, Annatar noticed that her breathing was calmer, his mere presence soothing to her. It was almost unfair, he had to admit, the power he had over her. It wasn't even a challenge for him. This, in fact, made it all the more exciting.

“You are very brave.” Annatar approached, standing facing Mirdania, his body almost touching her legs. “Some who behold the Unseen eorld are never quite at home in this one again.”

“Have you seen it?” Mirdania gasped in surprise. She hadn't imagined that an emissary of the Valar would know such a thing.

“Yes.” Annatar smiled. “In its light, things appear as they truly are. Beings of differing shades of light. And its darkness.”

Annatar spoke with regret, pretending to be deeply hurt by everything that had happened. Mirdania didn't hesitate for a second, trusting his words. It seemed impossible to her, yes, that Celebrimbor was being corrupted by the Rings. But was it really impossible?

Annatar was an emissary of the Valar, he better than anyone could recognize the darkness that dominates a spirit. And Mirdania was so shaken, so frightened by what could have happened to Celebrimbor, that he was beyond salvation.

Mirdania agreed with Annatar, feeling that she had little choice. Only he would help Lord Celebrimbor, only he could cure the Evil that was taking hold of the Lord of Eregion without anyone else noticing. She would keep his secret safe, and be at Celebrimbor's side.

“How strange.” Annatar smiled, staring at Mirdania, as if he really noticed something different about her. “When the light caught your hair, for a moment, you seemed her perfect likeness.”

“Whose likeness?” Mirdania asked in confusion.

She didn't even understand the change of subject between them, trying to understand what Annatar meant by those words. But she would never understand. Because for Sauron, that moment was a revelation. A realization that he didn't need Galadriel. That he could achieve his goals, with other allies, he would say.

“Why, Lady Galadriel's, of course.” He answered so lightly, as if it were obvious.

Mirdania smiled, feeling her face flush. Lady Galadriel was loved by many in Eregion. Mirdania had seen her only a few times, but she was always happy to be able to talk to a Commander of the High King Gil-galad. And Galadriel was always so kind to her. It was a great compliment indeed.

Lost in her thoughts, Mirdania took a moment to notice Annatar's hand approaching her hair. His touch was light, unassuming, tossing a golden lock to one side. He smiled all the time as he did so, as if he knew how embarrassed Mirdania was, how nervous she felt around him.

“Can I trust you, Mirdania?” He whispered, wrapping a lock of her hair around his finger.

“Of course, My Lord.” She said quickly.

Annatar looked at her, without moving his hand from her hair. Sauron wondered where she had been when he was first in Eregion. She wasn't there, he was sure. He would have noticed her there.

Who knows, maybe it wasn't such a big mistake to find a distraction, someone to ease the burden of being stuck there with a reluctant Celebrimbor.

“Would you do something for me?” Sauron asked, analyzing her reactions.

“I'll do anything.” Mirdania said.

It was so easy that it was cruel, but Sauron was never one to throw away small victories handed to him so easily. Especially when an Elf was trusting completely in his words, in his intentions, which would never be as pure as she had hoped.

Sauron's hand, which was holding Mirdania's hair, grabbed the back of her head, startling her. Despite this, she didn't pull away. Sauron smiled, taking this as encouragement. His legs forced Mirdania's away, getting between her legs. She breathed fast, raggedly, their faces so close that their breaths began to mingle.

Sauron would accept that little guilty pleasure handed to him on a silver platter. He was quick, pressing his lips against Mirdania's with impetus, with fervor. Because everything in Sauron burned like the flames of a forge and his desire was not gentle.

Mirdania let her hand reach Annatar's golden hair, returning the kiss. She was perhaps not as innocent in her intentions as Sauron believed her to be, not when she gave in so willingly to him, with such uncontrolled desire.

Sauron intensified the kiss, pushing Mirdania's body onto the forge table, letting his body hang over hers. It was brutal how he couldn't resist her. It was supposed to be a game, a way of achieving his goals. But he knew he wouldn't be rid of her any time soon when he felt her lips on his.

When he tugged on her curls, Mirdania moaned into his mouth, testing Sauron's lack of control. He was never good at keeping his emotions contained for long. He let one of his hands free Mirdania, going down to her leg, gripping her thigh tightly, forcing the green dress up.

Anyone who came in could see them there, so exposed in the flames of the forge, but for the Valar's sake, he didn't care about anything else now. He deserved that, didn't he? He was also working hard at forging the Rings, in his quest to heal Middle-earth.

Mirdania moaned as his fingers gripped her leg tighter, lifting her body up so that they were impossibly closer, almost as if she wanted to merge with him. He didn't need to invade Mirdania's mind to know that she wanted to be his, that she longed to be taken and remade by his hands. Emissary of the Valar or not, he was sure.

But the cursed knocks on the forge door distracted Sauron and he growled against Mirdania's lips, disgusted by the interruption. He groaned, his body so on fire against hers, a sensation almost unknown to him in recent eras.

“Lord Annatar?” Murmured an embarrassed voice.

Annatar sighed, lifting his body from Mirdania's as she stood up from the table, doing her best to make herself look presentable, as presentable as her swollen lips, flushed face and messy hair could hide.

“Yes?” Annatar muttered, before forcing a smile in the direction of one of Celebrimbor's personal guards.

“Lord Celebrimbor requests your presence in his chambers.” He said, without looking in Mirdania's direction, his face turning as red as the embers of the forge.

“Tell him I'll meet him soon.”

The guard agreed, turning his back on Annatar and Mirdania. Irritated, Sauron clasped his hands together, trying his best not to let Valinor's facade of calm and kindness disappear from his face. Uncertain, Mirdania stood behind him.

“I'd better go.” She muttered, starting to walk away.

“Mirdania?” He called out, seeing that she quickly turned to him again.

Walking over to her, Sauron held her hand gently, a delicacy that seemed false even to him. She, however, didn't seem to notice, looking at him expectantly.

“In time, I will reward you for all your efforts.”

Annatar whispered, heading out of the forge, while Mirdania was left behind, trapped by the words of the Lord of the Gifts.

Was it mean of me to end it like this? I know, I know. But things are going to heat up soon. I had to do this little mean thing to you, sorry!

I hope you enjoyed it. Reblogs, comments and likes are always welcome! And please don't copy my work or post it anywhere else.

tag: @valar-did-me-wrong @redrosesandcharmingsouls

[omppupiiras]

saw my queen yesterday ❤️ lady in red <3

[nach0]

wanted to draw fanart for @remxedmoon's isatscryption au but i realised i didn't actually know the plot yet which. whoops! so i settled for chucking my oc at it

OH YEAH INSCRYPTION IS 60% OFF ATM!! Consider this my official propaganda to go get this game

[ie-dilf-tournament]

Kidou Yuuto Has won the Inazuma Eleven Dilf Tournament!

[rawliverandgoronspice]

One thing I really like is that the whole Unhallowed Vespers trilogy (so Litany, Descant and Antiphon) is that is really served as my brainstorming test grounds for Thralls.

There are ideas in there I realize I don't like as much as I thought in hindsight, or conflict with other stuff I decided I'd rather pursue instead, and I get to have explored them before committing to those in a more long-form kind of project --or some that are too subtle or complicated to be carried out outside of writing (mostly thinking of a ton of Ganondorf character details, some things about gerudo culture that I want to tweak, characters that are getting axed because We Don't Have Time, etc).

On the contrary, there are things I set up in there I never actually got to explore, and I get to pull out that thread in here instead (basically every single of the hylians' character arc roughly, Nabooru, even Impa in a way). It's pretty weird and interesting to revisit the same core ideas twice, but in a different medium and with different character arcs in mind starting off the same thing.

[megroha]

.

[snekdood]

still looking through old art and im writhing with disgust at the fact that i tried to make taos nose smaller to make him look more like my abuser for them 🤢🤢🤢