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calisources · 1 month

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𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂, 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋, 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒.

All sentences have been taken from different media to be compiled into a list. This is not a meme for minors, the content here goes from mild to highly sexual, topics like dominance, submissive, bondage,praise kink and breeding are all present so discretion is key. Change names, pronouns, locations as you see fit.

You are perfect. And now you wear my mark, your ass is mine.

Tie me up, please…

Kiss me hot,heavy,wet & angry with that attitude like you do when your mouth yells it hates me but your tongue screams it can’t wait for me.

Let me undress your body, caress your skin and wetly massage your mind back into making love to me again.

They wanted her. They all loved her. And they wanted to keep her.

A little vanilla never hurt anybody.

If you have any sense you’ll stay away from him.

Touch me, like this, like a good girl.

That’s it, use your tongue.

I'd planned to have you on your bed the first time, but maybe I should take you here, by the mirror, so you can see how splendid we are together.

I’m not going to deny that I want to fuck you. I cannot do anything else, But I will say that I have plans for you if you say yes.

I’ll fuck you so good, for so long that the only thing you’ll crave is my hands on your skin, my cock deep in your pussy.

I want a second serving of you. I’m hard just thinking of your perfect breasts and hard nipples.

As much as I appreciate that, right now you’re all I want to eat.

Now will you please sit on my face already?

You are corrupting me, Theo.

But you like being corrupted, don't you, sweet girl?

The destruction of something beautiful can appear so entertaining.

If women were totally satisfied with their sexual and lovemaking experiences, women would welcome the lovemaking experience as much as men.

I want to learn from you. Teach me what you know.

Once I make you mine, you will be mine forever. I will call you and you will come, in more ways than one.

What have I taught you? Show me, sweet girl.

Use your thighs, ride like it’s your last day on this earth.

I been aching to be inside you since we met, you devil woman.

Hands braced against the wall, and open your legs.

You tasted sweet, like oranges, liquid sunshine in my mouth.

I need you. Every pore of my being is begging. This is what we do.

The things I want from you, darlin’, will give you nightmares, ones like you’ve never had before.

If you could read my mind, I’m pretty sure you’d either be traumatized, sexually aroused or both.

The nicer you treat her outside the bedroom, the naughtier it will get inside the bedroom.

Sex is a part of nature. I go along with nature.

That’s it. You can take a lot more, don’t you? Hold on to me.

If you behave, I’ll let your hands go and touch me.

I love your skinny legs, and what's between them.

I don't want words, but inarticulate cries.

All you have to do is beg, and I will give you what you want.

I want you splayed out on the table like my own personal feast.

I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets.

You make the sweetest little noises. But I need you to be louder, let everyone know.

It's like an itch, isn't it? You can feel it in your throat. You want to scream for me.

Every time you move tomorrow, I want you to be reminded that I've been here. Only me. You are mine.

I felt like an animal, and animals don't know sin, do they?

And ye whimper under me, and struggle as though you wanted to get away, and I know it's only that you're struggling to come closer, and I'm fighting the same fight.

I can help you with that.

Forgetting him. Moving on. I’m okay with being your rebound. I’ve already said that I want you.

You’ll give yourself to me? Let me take control? Let me send you over the edge of ecstasy time and again until you awaken?

Possess. Have. Hold. Enjoy. Control. Dominate. Pick your verb, Ms. Fairchild. I intend to explore so very many of them.

I feel claimed.

You’re so primed. I can feel that hot little pussy clenching around me every time I move a muscle or say a word.

Yeah, arch your back so I can look at you going nice and tight around my fingers.

Pet, I give you permission to be as vocal as you wish, because I am going to blow your mind in a few minutes and I want to hear how much you enjoy the ride.

If you want me to touch you, all you have to do is ask. It would be my pleasure - and yours.

Watch me make love to you.

I'd like to bite that lip.

I want you sore, baby.

I cannot let you burn me up, nor can I resist you.

There is no room in my body for anything but you.

Eat me, drink me; thirsty, cankered, just take me as I am.

I live for sex. I celebrate it, and relish the electricity of it, with every fibre of my being.

I’m not wearing anything underneath. Want to see?

You will be staying here until I’ve deemed it safe for you to go back to your life. Do you understand me?

Dominate you? Yes. Master you? yes. Make you yield to what you want, make you surrender to who you truly are? Yes.

Why don’t you scream my name? Let every other man and woman who you belong to.

I don’t want to think, I just want to feel.

I taught you everything you know. Every man after me is just a shadow of what I did to you.

I knew you could be a good girl.

You were fucking made for me.

God is not gonna save you from me, baby.

My mouth wants you, I want to feel you in my mouth, way down in my mouth.

I am moist between the legs.

I came three times. During sex.

Do you know all the ways a Lady can be seduced? The things I could teach you?

You stay right where daddy puts you, baby girl.

Wait until you taste her. She is fucking delicious.

Lick my fingers and feel how wet you are.

Are there big, bad monsters in the woods who want to eat me up?

Right there, don’t stop. I can feel it.

Please come in me, I don’t care, I want to feel you.

Where do you want it, baby girl? Your cunt, your mouth or your neck?

Close your eyes and relax. One kiss. I don’t bite.

Seriously? In the morning, again?

You said to rest but I can feel you hard against my back.

You can do all the rest sweet, let me take care of you.

I want you to fuck me, Chris.

A little playful banter never hurt — or did it?

One should always explore something, before one goes in deeper.

Come here and undress me.

How am I supposed to do my job when all I can think about is getting back to you?

Someone could walk in on us.

Better be good and come fast, then. Or everyone will see you begging for more.

I can imagine my hands getting your fucking clothes off right now.

Do not shy away from the sensations I create, Cherry Blossom. Take pride in them, as I do.

Am I doing it good, baby? Just like you taught me?

Tell me I’m a good girl. Your only girl.

When I come, I come for you. Because of you and your mouth, hands, and insatiable little cunt.

My tongue, my fingers, my cum inside you. Just you and me, Eva. Intimate and raw.

How many have been with you ever since? Or no one compared? Tell me.

Show me then. I demand that you show me. That’s an order.

#roleplay memes #sentence meme #( cali meme. )#rp memes #rp prompt #rp musings #roleplay prompt #smut prompt #kink prompt #usft tw

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ghouljams · 3 months

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Læknir [Chapter 5]

prev part

Tags: Viking au, Viking!Soap, highlander!reader, healer!reader, Soap x f!reader, medical procedures, bodily fluids(blood and puss), slow burn, Gaz is here Hi Gaz

Summary: It's funny, you don't even think about what your participation means, whether it will be seen as compliance, or an acceptance of your situation. You're a healer, and you have patients to treat.

You peak over the fur lined bedroll you’d spent most of the night tossing and turning on. Mactavish sits beside you in the same cross legged position he took last night. His eyes are fixed on the tent’s flap, something cold and impenetrable holding his features. Somewhere in the pit of your stomach you pity him. You don’t know for what, or why, but the moment is broken when his eyes dart to yours. He seems to pull his charm on like a well worn cloak, his smile bright enough you almost miss the way it barely touches his eyes. You wonder if he slept any better than you did, if he slept at all. Though any sleep would be better than what you got. Every shift in the wind had woken you last night, every creaking footstep, every howl of some poor distant animal making your bones quake. You’ve been brave enough for a lifetime, you’re not stupid enough to sleep.

“You were busy last night,” Mactavish quips as you sit up. You shoot him a quick glare, and don’t bother entertaining his teasing. The soft grey light of morning is filtering in under the tent flap and you’d rather be up before anyone can force you up. “There’s breakfast,” He tries a different approach.

“You don’t have anyone better to bother?” You ask him quickly, biting the hand that tries to feed you. He doesn’t flinch.

“Captain hasn’t come lookin’ for me yet.”

As if on cue the tent flap is pulled aside. You’re unsurprised to see a viking, you wish you could find it a relief that it’s one you almost recognize. The dim morning light washes all the warmth from his dark skin, but Mactavish smiles a little more genuinely when he sees him. Having more men in the tent makes you nervous, you try not to let it show on your face.

“Captain wants-” Your tired brain does its best to translate as the viking speaks, you pick up on pieces of words, try to parse together a sentence. You catch the tail end of it, “out” and try not to settle yourself in doom. Mactavish nods. You always fancied yourself smart for being able to translate an unfamiliar tongue. He makes you feel stupid, a viking better than you at something you prided yourself on.

He speaks in the harsh tongue easily, pulls the words together like a musician. You hear his tone shift to the affirmative, and a “Thanks mate.” in your own tongue. You wonder if you’ll fall into such easy switches. You hope not. You hope that this tongue, this culture keeps its hooks out of you for as long as it takes you to find a way to freedom. Mactavish turns his attention to you.

“Gaz is gonna take you around to check the other men,” He tells you. Gaz. You file the name away for future reference.

“Where are you going?” You ask, some sick rolling thing in your stomach hates him for abandoning you so soon after stealing you away. His brows draw together in confusion, you wonder if he knows what made you ask, if he thinks you have any sort of draw to him.

“Have to deal with a couple things, you’ll be alright without me,” He assures you, “Gaz won’t let anythin’ happen to ya.”

You glance at Gaz, he smiles at you. Again you find a spark of pity in his eyes. You wish he’d turn that wretched emotion on someone else.

Mactavish touches your arm and you jerk away from him, his fingers tighten into a fist in response, almost as quickly as you’d moved. You don’t bother looking at him, despite the way you feel him stare, and grab your pack as you move around him, ducking under Gaz’s arm and into the open air. The morning’s chill makes you deflate a little.

The high cliff face separating the beach from the highlands feels insurmountable. A giant wall set up between you and the life you once led. You’re struck by the gnawing pit in your stomach that whispers to you, you can never go home. Gaz comes to stand beside you, eyes fixed on the dark cliffs. He must have come from somewhere too, right? What does he see, what wall has been erected by the gods to stop him? You push the thought from your mind. Pity does nothing and serves no one. It’s a connection you’re eager to set yourself apart from.

“Over here,” Gaz tells you, turning away from the cliff and walking towards the still burning fire. He doesn’t touch you, and for that you’re grateful. You follow after him, if you’re going to pretend to be a healer you may as well make a play at actually healing.

Vikings huddle around the fire, talking and laughing, the warmth of it still radiates strong, the smoke still billows. It’s funny how much you can hate something that once brought you so much comfort. Your eyes fix on it too long.

“Læknir,” Gaz calls, and you jerk your head, sure he’s talking to you. You file the word away, ashamed to think you might ask Mactavish about it later. “Look after the men,” He continues once he has your attention. You glance at the vikings sitting around the fire, and nod. If you’re going to survive, and you must survive, it’s better to be a healer.

There’s a palpable distance between you and the vikings. Gaz hovers nearby, waiting to help translate as best he can, and you catch the other men glancing at him occasionally, but for the most part the vikings don’t stop their conversations as you check them over. Most are in good health. Their scars are pink and silver, others more purple, healing, healed, well taken care of. You wonder what their healers back home are like.

You poke at one of the viking’s shoulders and he hisses. You’re quick to grab at his cloak, tugging at the fur to get a better look at what’s causing him pain. Your bedside manner has always left something to be desired. The viking looks startled, more confused than you really expected him to be. You give another tug and he grabs at the edge of his cloak to wrap it around himself more securely. Big baby.

Gaz says something, covering barely contained anger. The viking responds and Gaz hums. “Læknir,” He settles a hand on your shoulder and you glance at him, “you need to ask.”

You look back at the viking who looks a little put out by your insistent yanking. You- you think you were hurting him. You forgot. You forgot that you could hurt these men. Something akin to guilt flashes hot in your stomach, twists in on itself until you feel sick. It isn’t the fact you’ve hurt someone that does it.

It’s the way you want to feel good about hurting him. You want to feel some sort of vindication, like this is their penance for stealing you away. If you can hurt them, maybe you can do more than just bide your time. The thought sickens you. You hope there never comes a day where these men force you to become as violent as they are.

“I need to look,” You tell the viking in your stilted, inelegant translation, “please.”

The viking sighs and unclasps his fur, his cloak, lets you pull his loose shirt to the side to check his shoulder. You palpate the area with your fingers, checking for breaks and dislocations. It’s sort of… squishy? Moveable but in a way that makes the viking hiss. There’s a fresh scar running along the length of the bump you’re pressing. You think you remember this happening to one of the men in your village, an excess of blood and phlegm built up under the skin. The elders had brought you and a few other apprentices to watch the extraction of it.

You turn to rummage through your bag to try to find your notes. There are few things more precious to you in this world than the bag you carry at your side, the last remaining vestiges of home and a firm reminder of what you are. You pull a book free from its pocket, and flip through the carefully penned pages. Your crude sketches and quick handwriting aren’t anything to boast about, but the knowledge contained within them is more than you’re sure vikings have.

“I need,” You fish for the correct word as you pull your knife free, the blade flashes wickedly, you look up at Gaz, “He needs to bite.” You make the motion with your teeth, clenching your jaw to be sure he’s got the point. He’s smart, you’ll give the viking that much, Gaz rummages through his own pockets and pulls a strip of thick leather free. You nod quickly and stand to hold your knife in the fire.

If you’re going to do this under scrutiny you may as well take every precaution. A hot knife stops bleeding before it starts, though the smell of it is… unpleasant. You can only thank the gods that you keep your tools sharp, staring at the blade as it darkens with heat. You know the metal is heated enough when it hurts your hand. The heat biting into your palm almost feels good. Penance for cooperating with the wolves.

When you turn back to your patient he’s got the leather strap between his teeth, and two more men holding him steady. You almost feel bad, but it isn’t your job to feel bad, it’s your job to fix. It’s your job to be quick enough that your patients don’t suffer unnecessarily. You move close, side step around the vikings to push your fingers against your patient’s skin, feeling the squish that needs to be excised.

You press the blade of your knife to the viking’s shoulder, and he tenses with a low groan of pain. Less than you’d expected. You suppose these men are used to pain. Your cut is short, but deep enough you can feel where the skin breaks for puss. You can see it too, the viscous yellow that spills over the edges of the wound. You grimace when it flows, warm, over your fingertips and reposition your hand around the edges of the squishy pocket. Gaz hands you a cloth, exchanges it for your knife, and you hold it under the wound to catch the sickness that you carefully squeeze out.

You push against the viking’s skin until it’s just blood running from the wound. When you’re satisfied you’ve gotten all the sick out, you hold the cloth out to Gaz. He grimaces, and jerks his head towards the fire. Ah. You chuck the soiled linen into the blaze and ignore the crackle of fluid heating. You dig through your bag again, pulling needle and thread free of their places, and carefully knot a few stitches in the fresh wound. It’s ugly, but it does the job keeping the skin together. You’ll have to check the wound again in a few days to be sure the puss hasn’t come back, but it doesn’t seem like you’ll be going anywhere.

You shake the blood off your fingers, letting the red splatter on the grey rocks of the beach. It’s sort of satisfying doing your job, you’ve been training in it long enough. Turning your attention back to the viking he’s attempting to pull his shirt back into place. You’re quick to try and stop him, fussing with your bag and tugging a jar free. You open the seal and dip your fingers into the golden honey within, smearing it over the fresh wound.

Gaz hands you another length of cloth and you tie it tight around the viking’s shoulder. It’s dirty work, but between the two of you it’s been quick. That’s good, less risk if medicine is quick.

You cap the honey, wiping your fingers on your skirt. More stains for the unassuming fabric, but better this than dirtying your earasaid. You look away from your patient as he pulls his shirt back into place, refastens his cloak, and make eye contact with the captain. His gaze is just as flinty as it was yesterday, hard as stone and just as unyielding. Mactavish is next to him, and smiles when your eyes dart to him. The captain turns and shifts his attention back to his crew. You turn your attention to reorganizing your bag as Mactavish makes his way towards you.

“You keep honey on you?” He asks, snatching the jar from where you’d set it. You’re just as quick to snatch it back. Your annoyance flares.

“I found a hive while I was in the forest,” You tell him, keeping your eyes focused on your work as you settle your book and the jar reverently into their places, “wasted too much time collecting it, you wouldn’t have-”

You bite your tongue, cut yourself off. If you hadn’t wasted so much time on the honey you might have finished gathering herbs in time to avoid Mactavish. Maybe then you could have done something to help your family. Or perished with them, a quiet voice whispers to you. It would have been better than this, you tell the voice.

You look at Mactavish when he’s been quiet too long. His face is unreadable, but his posture is rigid. He isn’t here just to bother you. You straighten from your rummaging, afford yourself all the height you can steal to meet his eye.

“What?” You ask.

“You’re hired,” He tells you, though it does nothing to ease his posture; you blink at him and go back to your bag, untwisting the strap to pull it over your shoulder, “and-”

“And I don’t have a choice in the matter” You grumble. Mactavish grips your chin with firm fingers, turns you to look him in the eye again. His eyes are stormy, the brilliant blue yielding to clouds the same way the sky does. It startles you enough to keep you still.

“And we’re going home.” He says home like a finality, like the last wheezing breath before death. He says it like he means you to know his meaning without his saying it.

“Home.” You swallow and he nods.

“Aye, home.”

Not your home, you think, theirs.

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sincerelyyuu · 7 days

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"in the end, it's still you." p2.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ synopsis: you never thought the day would come where you would have to choose between your two best friends. but how do you say goodbye to someone who became one of your reasons for living? ➼ pairing: gojo satoru x fem!reader, geto suguru x fem!reader ➼ content/warning: angst with tons of pining and heartbreak, sfw, heavy s2 spoilers, pet names, cursing, mentions of death ➼ wc: 3.1k words ➼ a/n: here's the anticipated part two of this fic! can definitely read this part on its own as a standalone, but highly recommend reading part one for the full angst effect ♡ ➼ part one, part two, part three

You didn’t know how you got here.

One minute you were on a mission. The next minute you were a fugitive on the run.

When Suguru and you left for the village, you didn’t expect to be standing in front of a caged cell that held two little girls. They were twins and looked to be no more than the age of five. Crouching down to match their eye level, you saw just how disheveled and scared they were between the bars. Clothes tattered, skin covered in dirt, eyes wide with fear. How cruel.

“Hello. I’m (y/n). That’s my friend Suguru,” you introduced softly, not wanting to spook them. Suguru nodded at them in greeting with a smile. “What are your names?”

“Nanako,” the light brown haired twin answered in a near whisper.

“Mimiko,” her black haired twin counterpart responded after.

“It’s nice to meet you both,” you smiled, leaning closer to them to whisper so that only they could hear. “Let’s get you out of here quickly, yeah?”

The girls looked back at you with surprise before a small smile appeared on their faces, nodding. You and Suguru were the first people to show them any form of kindness in this village. Unfortunately, their happiness was short-lived.

“These two are crazy! They used their mysterious powers to attack the villagers, right?” a male villager accused them both.

Furrowing your brows, you exchange glances with Suguru who shared the same sentiments as you. You both had already exterminated the cause of those incidents when you arrived.

“No, it’s not them,” Suguru exhaled, a hand on his head as he massaged his temple in disdain.

Ignoring his words, an older woman added more fuel to the fire, “My granddaughter was nearly killed by these two, too!”

Nanako defended, “That’s because she-”

“Shut up, you monsters! I knew we should have killed you two as babies!”

“Watch your mouth,” you snapped, maneuvering your body to shield the twins from the vile woman. The girls immediately sought refuge behind you.

You couldn’t believe the words coming from them openly talking about killing the girls when they were sitting right there. You felt so sorry for the two. Based on what the villagers were saying, these poor children most likely hadn’t received an ounce of love in their lives. Instead they were treated like animals.

It was just like you to put yourself in harm's way to protect others with no hesitation. It was one of the reasons that made Suguru fall in love with you. It didn’t come as a surprise to him to see Nanako and Mimiko already taking a liking to you.

Looking at the three of you, something in Suguru snapped. Lowering beside you, he offered you a gentle smile.

“Do me a favor. Once I step out, let the girls out and cover their ears. Stay here. I’ll come back for you three when I’m done,” he instructed.

“What? Why?” you asked in confusion. “Sugu… What are you about to do?”

He ruffled your hair playfully. “I’ll be right back. Now be a good girl for me.”

You looked at him wearily. There was something different about him right now that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. You also didn’t like how vague he was being. Still, you hesitantly agreed. Satisfied, Suguru stood up to face the villagers in the room.

“Everyone, shall we step outside for a moment?” he asked, a sickeningly sweet smile gracing his face.

You were prepared for when you successfully freed the girls from their confines with Mimiko and Nanako instantly falling into your awaiting arms. Instructing them to cover their ears, you held them close and placed your hands behind their heads, letting them rest their faces against your chest.

“It’s okay, I got you. You’re safe now,” you promised them. “They can’t hurt you anymore.”

What you weren’t prepared for was the fiery blue flames that illuminated the village and the screams that ensued after.

A few days later, it was a beautiful day in Shinjuku. People were going on about their business as they maneuvered among the busy streets. The air was full of chatter with the hustle and bustle of city life.

“I’ll go ahead and ask. Any chance the charges are false?” Shoko inquires with a smile.

Suguru shakes his head at the female sorcerer, “Nope. Unfortunately not.”

Shoko takes a drag of her cigarette, blowing white whips of smoke that dissipate into the air. “You know what, I can expect you to be able to pull off this kind of thing. But did you really have to drag (y/n) with you too? Where is she anyway?”

Suguru fights the urge to grin at the mention of your name. Crossing his arms, he peers up at the clouds drifting across the azure sky. “She’s-”

“-right here.”

The two turned their heads at the sound of your voice as you approached them, a bag full of pastries in tow. You waved shyly at Shoko who was relieved to see you unharmed. You were one of the few female friends that she had at school. It came as a big surprise to her when she heard the news of your shared sentence with Suguru. It didn’t seem like you to commit mass murder. Then again, neither did Geto.

“There’s Ms. Partner-in-crime. I was just about to ask Geto why this little situation came to be,” Shoko filled you in.

You shift awkwardly in place, unable to find the right words to respond. Sensing your discomfort, Suguru swiftly answers back, “I’m going to create a world of only jujutsu sorcerers. (y/n) here is the lucky girl who gets to help me.”

“Is that so?” the brunette laughs. “I don’t get it.”

“We’re not children. I’m not holding out hope that everyone will understand,” Suguru responds. He glances over at you as you stare into the crowd and zone out of the conversation. As long as you were beside him, he didn’t care if no one else understood. At least he had you.

Shoko whipped out her cell and promptly entered a series of numbers before placing it to her ear. “Hey, Gojo? I found Geto and (y/n). Yeah, Shinjuku.”

Hearing Satoru’s name, your body immediately went into flight mode. Breath quickening, heartbeat accelerating, and anxiety swirling in your stomach. You felt like throwing up. You knew it was inevitable to see him when Suguru suggested going to Shinjuku for the day under the guise of buying treats for Nanako and Mimiko. But you weren’t sure you were ready to see him yet. What could you possibly even say to him after what happened?

Before your thoughts could spiral even more, you felt a warm hand slip into your left and the pastry bag removed from your right. Looking up, Suguru didn’t make eye contact with you, only squeezing your hand in reassurance. He always had a sixth sense for how you were feeling.

“Excuse us but we have somewhere to be. Goodbye, Shoko,” Suguru waves at her nonchalantly as if it were any other ordinary day and like he’d see her in class tomorrow.

She waves back and turns to make eye contact with you, an unreadable expression on her face. Before you could analyze it, Suguru gently tugs on your hand and leads you away with him and into the bustling crowd of Shinjuku. The two of you walked for a few minutes in silence before a familiar voice reached your ears.

“Explain yourselves.”

Stopping in your tracks, you felt a lump form in your throat. Your nails dug into Suguru’s hand, leaving red crescents upon his pale skin. Suguru tried not to flinch at the pain. He knew that this moment would be hard for you.

After receiving Shoko’s call, Satoru wasted no time and immediately teleported to Shinjuku in search of his two best friends. All he can think of is, why? Why would you both do this? It didn’t make any sense. He needed answers and he wasn’t stopping until he got them.

Among the sea of people, his eyes searched and searched until it finally landed on one of his targets. He didn’t need to see your face to know that it was you. After all, he had engrained every detail of you into his mind from the way you looked to the way you moved. Your name lingered on his lips, longing to call for you.

“You already heard from Shoko, right?” Suguru answered him back without turning around. “That’s all there is to it.”

Unhappy with his response, Satoru felt his blood begin to boil in anger. “So you’re just going to kill everyone that isn’t a sorcerer? Even your parents?”

Maybe it was the way your heartbeat was beating so loudly in your ears, but you could barely hear what the two men were saying despite being right there. You knew they were exchanging words but your mind refused to process them. Instead it focused on the way Satoru’s voice was plagued in confusion and betrayal. You and Suguru, his two closest friends, had betrayed him without a word.

“You’re going to kill all non-sorcerers and create a world of only jujutsu sorcerers? You know that’s impossible!” you heard Satoru bellow from behind you.

“You could do it, couldn’t you, Satoru?” the black haired sorcerer retorted back, now facing the enraged male. “Are you the strongest because you’re Gojo Satoru? Or does being the strongest make you Gojo Satoru?”

You felt a chill go down your spine from Suguru’s cold tone so different from the honey one he always used towards you. Was this the Suguru you’ve known until now? But then you remembered everything Suguru had gone through up until this point. Swallowing disgusting curse after curse with nothing to show for it for himself. Watching his friends and comrades die in front of him. You understood the shift in Suguru’s beliefs.

That being said, you also understood where Satoru was coming from. You knew deep down that this wasn’t right. Innocent lives were taken to create a world that may not even be possible. However, there wasn’t anything you could do about it now. You were in too deep and if this was the hill you’ll die on, so be it.

Frustrated with the conversation with Suguru, Satoru knew there was no changing that man’s mind. Suguru had zero regrets and had every intention of carrying out his new life goal. Shifting his focus to you, Satoru felt the anger clouding his vision slowly diminish, a sense of yearning overwhelming his senses.

His voice dropped to a low cry as he called out to you, “(y/n)...”

The moment your name left his lips, a wave of guilt settled into the pit of your stomach. You wish he hadn’t done that. In a perfect world, you would have turned around and ran into those strong arms that have held and protected you more times than you can count. You felt your resolve chipping away piece by piece.

But this world was far from perfect. You can never go back to the way things were. Still, you owed it to Satoru to properly say goodbye because you weren’t sure when you’ll ever see him again.

You took a deep breath and stepped to turn around. Halfway through your turn, you felt Suguru’s grip on your hand tighten, looking at you in confusion and slight alarm. Were you changing your mind and leaving him? However, his tense shoulders eased when you squeezed his hand back in reassurance, communicating with your eyes that you weren’t going anywhere. Nodding his head, he let go of you.

What the fuck? Satoru thought to himself.

Watching the scene unfold between you two, he felt an insecure stinging pierce in his chest. His six eyes bored holes at your interlocked hands. An unsettling feeling gnawed at him at the fond look in Suguru’s eyes which stared directly into your own. It was the same way Satoru looked at you.

Fuck. His best friend, Geto Suguru, was also madly in love with you.

“Satoru.”

Satoru could almost cry hearing you call his name. You took a few steps towards him, maintaining eye contact as you did so. He also took a step towards you but immediately halted when you raised your hand up to stop him from getting any closer. Standing a few feet from each other now in silence, you felt your heart break at the sight of your once confident best friend who now looked so small in your presence.

“...Why?” he asked, the tension growing thick in the air.

Fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, you replied, “You don’t understand-”

“Then, make me understand!” Satoru shouted.

Storming directly to you, he stopped so that he stood inches away from your figure. One more step and he could pull you to him and away from whatever this was. It would be so easy. He stood before you with his infinity off, silently granting you the opportunity to reach out for him. He never had it on whenever he was with you. He trusted you to let his guard down because you made him feel safe.

Satoru continued to interrogate you as he struggled to keep his emotions in check. “(y/n), I know you. I know you didn’t lift a finger to kill any of those people. You would never take the life of another if they didn’t deserve it. So, why are you doing this?”

“I can talk to the elders. I can convince them to reverse your sentence because you didn’t do anything. They’ll listen to me,” he begged you, voice quickening with every line.

“Is it because I’m away all the time? I’ll stop taking on more missions or have them assign you with me. Just come home.”

He was beginning to ramble now as he felt himself grow more desperate to keep you. Satoru was never the type to get down on his knees for anyone except you.

Throughout the years, he fell for you hard. You had the power to render him weak with just your smile, the air leaving his lungs at the way you took his breath away. Your calming presence grounded him and brought him back to reality whenever things became too intense. It was the way you understood his thoughts and feelings before he even knew of them. You held his heart in the palm of your hands and right now you were completely destroying him.

Against your better judgment, you caressed the left side of Satoru’s face. The man immediately leaned into your hand as he melted at your touch, placing his hand over yours and seeking your affection. Brilliant blue eyes filled with anguish met your sorrowful ones.

“Toru,” you smiled bittersweetly at him. “I can’t. The moment I go back, they’d kill me in a heartbeat. It’s too late for me. At least this way I’ll be protecting you.”

“It’s supposed to be the other way around. I’m the one that’s supposed to be protecting you,” he argued back. “Sweets, this is insanity. You can’t possibly be okay with this. Do you honestly agree with him and this crazy non-sorcerer world bullshit?”

You let your hand fall from his face, watching him grimace from the action. “It doesn’t matter what I think. What’s done is done. I made a promise to Suguru that I’d be there for him.”

Satoru scowled, “And what about me, (y/n)? Don’t you see that you’re hurting me?”

That wasn’t fair. How do you explain to him that you were doing what you thought was best? As the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, Satoru will always have a community rallying behind him. Suguru had no one. You didn’t want Suguru to live a lonely life alone. You cared too much about him. Hence, you promised to be that one person he needed.

Satoru felt like ripping his hair out in agony. He could feel it. He could feel him losing you. Any traces of anger slipped out of his body. He looked at you desperately, looking crestfallen and utterly wrecked as he felt hot tears burn in his eyes.

“Baby, please,” he begged, voice almost cracking in the process. “I’m already losing one best friend. I can’t lose you too.”

Closing your eyes to stop your own tears from falling, you could only whisper an apology back, “I’m sorry.”

Satoru didn’t need your apology. He knew that you could apologize a million times and in the end, he’d still forgive you even if you were tearing him apart. He also knew that you were extremely stubborn and even more loyal. You had made up your mind and this was you saying goodbye. His fists went rigid causing his knuckles to turn white from the intensity of his grip.

“So, this is it? This is the life you’re choosing?” he let out an empty laugh, the smile leaving his face once his gaze met Suguru’s who awaited behind you. “You’re choosing him?”

Shaking your head, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled his tall figure down to you into a tight embrace. Arms wrapping around you, he held you even tighter against him as if his life depended on it. In a way, it did. Breathing in your scent, he felt goosebumps rise on his skin when your lips brushed to whisper against his ear.

“This is me choosing you.”

Ripping yourself away from the snowy haired man, he stood stunned at your declaration and could only watch as you made your way back to Suguru’s side. The said male extended his hand back at you once more, pouting as you shook your head no. Vision blurring with tears, you walked past him and continued walking down the street to get as far away as possible, willing your broken heart not to look back.

Suguru could only sigh deeply. You just needed more time. Whenever you were ready, he’d be there every step of the way with open arms, forever set to love and protect you. Looking back at Satoru, he shot the distraught male a smirk and threw up a peace sign. Tucking his hands into his pants pockets, he trailed after you before you could get too far.

In a moment of panic, Satoru raised his hands to prepare an attack towards the raven haired male. After a mental struggle, he ultimately dropped his hands to his side, fists clenching hard. He couldn’t do it. He didn’t have it in him to harm his best friend or else he’d risk harming you as well.

Satoru watched your figures disappear deeper into the crowd for perhaps the last time he’ll ever see you.

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undercoverpena · 6 months

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ii. the borrowing of honey

joel miller x f!reader | chapter two of honey stained hands

Chapter summary: lifting his chin, he finds you already watching him. “What’d y’like me to call you?” Your hands pause, flour clinging to your palms, your hands. “I like that you call me Honey, Miller.”

wordcount: 3.9k warnings: no physical descriptions. joel calls you honey (ellie calls you bee - because you look after the bees). no use of y/n. typical canon-angst. brief mentions of reader handling some raiders (murder couple yesss). my spelling. joel trying to fit in and be good for ellie. an: doesn't matter how much time passes, i still get so nervous when it comes to sharing joel.

Your name is present on the tip of his tongue whenever he sees you.

It’s there when he watches you walk by; when he finds you in the centre of the sheep pen, Ellie and other kids circling you, listening attentively.

For Joel, what he likes the most, is the teeth showing when Ellie grins, when she moves closer to you, when it’s clear in the way her arms aren’t folded anymore, that she trusts you—this person, this neighbour of theirs.

Against all odds, he has also found your name coming to him with ease when he opens his door to you, the chill of the outside air mixing with the warmth of his home.

Your appearance, as always, knocking him off balance, especially when he spots that apron again—flecks of flour, a stripe of it against your cheek.

You don’t happen to have any honey, do you, neighbour?

From morning to night, it’s there, ready—hanging on the tip of his tongue.

He swears it’s as though your name has been scratched into him, etched into some space he hadn’t known was still there, existing, being.

A pull within him.

One that led him to your door the following day, a book in hand—one you’d lent Ellie and had been meaning to return—as he found you baking. All smooth movements, unbothered by him stopping by as you combined ingredients with your hands.

Hands he was unsure how they’d made it here. A question, that circles his brain in constant whirrs.

Because, until the scent of honey hit his nose, Joel wasn’t sure you could appear any sweeter.

“What y’baking?” he’d asked, nodding to the jar of honey open beside you—the one he’d given the day prior, the label scratched from his thumb picking at it as the two of you idly chatted. Talks of the day, whether he’d had any more run-ins with the animals.

Your lip tugged into your cheek, pausing in your crumbling to wipe your forearm across your brow. “Shortbread—but it’s only my third time making it.”

“Three times more than me.”

Snorting, you grinned. Large, unfazed—as though the world had never ended for you. “When you’re done fixing fences and homes, I can teach you.”

“Not sure I can learn much, honey.”

“I think you sell yourself short.”

Smirking, he nodded, mumbling a funny as he continued to watch, and admire. Paying attention to how your hands moved, how they rolled whatever you were making inside the bowl before you held up your dough.

You hadn’t shared much, just that you had learnt to bake when you were younger—something you’d begin doing when you couldn’t sleep. How the honey had been an easy (in terms of sourcing) replacement for sugar. That, you’d amassed too much once, so you shared your goods, left treats at the Tipsy Bison, took some to the shops that could spare some cheering up.

Joel didn’t share much either, just nodded to the questions you asked, whether he’d travelled far, whether he liked fixing porches and whether it was true a sheep had tried to eat his lace.

The main things that Joel learnt, was that you were too good for a person like him.

A person maybe years and years ago he’d have been able to entertain with witty stories and charisma. But both were few and far between now. That however you’d survived, however you’d made it here, had been likely on luck and not because you, like him—and likely others—had found themselves in the shadows of who they once were.

Then, he saw a different side.

Your name almost hangs from his lips when he watches you dismount weakly, almost stumbling—falling before you catch yourself.

There are snowflakes in your hair. Ellie had said the weather is ‘all fucked. Now, he can see it for himself. How drops from the clouds had clustered, clung to strands, it almost making you look innocent—like the version of you Joel had sculpted in his mind.

That is except for the scarlet splattered across your clothes and face—chunks of something mattered in your hair. It’s sticky, that much he can tell. It catches the sun's rays, reflecting across the parts that haven’t dried. Lit up further by the wild look in your eyes, the one that makes him realise, that for all your sweetness, there’s something uncaged inside you. A look, that is both a mix of haunting and adrenaline, thrumming in the depths where he’s usually basked in goodness.

The earlier thought, the one which had been irking him—festering in the back of his mind—wondering how something so kind had managed to survive, is now answered. It is on display, proudly there for him to see. You’d done well to drill it down, hide it deep inside of you, conceal it, but it was bellowing now, hammering its fists on your chest, all proud to be out, breathing, living.

Because you disguise it too, the monster. Thing so many of the people around the two of you aren’t. But a beast recognises another—and Joel sees yours.

There’s no mask or sheet big enough to hide it now. No way he can’t see where it’s stitched itself to the person you were before civilisation snapped in two and hell poured out from the core.

It’s that, he reasons, as to why he steps closer—tries to stabilise, soothe. Even if your body is calm, barely a shake in sight—no infliction as others come to your ‘aid’ that anything is even wrong—less so when the questions begin to rise.

You—a clever thing—wait until Tommy arrives. Letting him, and only him—guide you, lead you. Those who need to, follow, and Joel finds his feet carry him too. Joel finding a spot, remaining stood, just watching from the corner as you begin to share what had happened on patrol.

Your report is clinical, stiff. All to the point.

You speak it as though you were itemising, giving a list, and he suspects it isn’t because it’s a coping mechanism. It sounds normal from your tongue, loss—death. It’s all a matter of fact, with no emotion—no semblance of kindness or grief as you describe how your patrol partner was gutted in front of you. How they talked about you, not realising, not knowing…

He listens as your voice trails off then. Knowing, more than many of those who have been comfortable here for too long, what it is you’d left unsaid.

Then, you’d added Raiders. You chin lifting, eyes cold, unbothered, adding, low-level ones—as if there are grades to this shit.

“Do we need to send others out to deal with them?”

A valid question, asked by someone Joel has no fucking clue what his name is.

Instead of replying, your eyes flick to his. A momentary hold, a prolonged stare. It doesn’t claw at him to steal his breath or dig in to take a swipe at the fractured parts of him. It is just a stare—an almost cold one—as though he could have been replaced by anyone else in the room, and it would have been the same.

But you sought him out. You looked for him—stamping the answer into him. The one you say in a second or two, but makes him body relax before the rest of them can think of doing as much.

Because Joel knows this is you showing him who you are, the monster unwilling to be caged—the demon inside of you still breathing, snorting and spitting smoke.

“No,” you say, devoid of emotion. “I sorted it.”

Somehow, even after spending the night watching you bake, he doesn't doubt that for a second.

He knows something shifted, changed, the day after your patrol.

Something ebbing, flowing—commutated in the way he finds your eyes even through a sea of people. Mostly, he discovers that he doesn’t hate it when you find yourself beside him, sun in his eyes making him squint, you leaning close by as he repairs whatever is on the agenda.

The times begin to bleed into one. Something he’s distantly aware means something—even without Ellie pointing it out.

Because even she knows you, more than bits and bobs—more than someone who teaches them things. But intimately. You, who the kids have dubbed Bee likely due to the bees you’re often around and the honey that you tend to. Something that makes him smirk, a thing he struggles to hide.

He knows things have changed. Had known it the moment you stood giving a detailed account—letting another man’s blood dry on your face—that he had misunderstood you. Joel had made an assumption based on those he’d come across before, kind things—soft, pliable souls.

Now, he couldn't unsee the fire. The ferocious thing inside of you that you stuffed away and hid behind baking and tending to fucking bees.

“Didn’t realise you had access to all the honey, honey.” “You trying to flirt with me, Miller?” “No jus’… trying to figure out why you needed my honey.” “Maybe I thought yours would taste better.”

He was aware the idle chatter had turned flirty—more tinged in power, dominance. Who could make the other uncomfortable, snap or make the move first. Each day, the answer was different—sometimes him, sometimes you, oftentimes both.

Joel was old, worn—aching all over—but he didn’t like the idea of bowing, not after all he’d done to get here to begin with.

“I think you’re softening to me, Miller.” “You’re just my neighbour.” “Yeah, yeah. That’s what it is.”

A part of him reasons that he goes to the Bison to see if you’re okay, spotting you in the corner, at an empty table—a book open in your hands before you nod at him to join you. You tell him, quickly, he doesn’t have to make conversation, turning your attention back to the book, just no point sitting by yourself being ogled at.

Joel found he did talk.

First, about the book in your hand, and then questions about other things—the two of you floating them back and forth. Nothing major, nothing too deep. Enough to spark a smile or a laugh here or there.

No more pages of your book were read, not even as you eventually closed it—bidding him goodnight. He’d almost let you walk home alone, almost. A sudden emotion flared in him as he downed the drink and hurried after you.

Knowing you were safe mattered.

He repeated the sentiment over and over as though it was the only reason—or, better yet, the only one he wanted to believe, especially when the two of you stopped at the steps of your porch.

A goodnight rises, sitting on his tongue, but it never forms. Your eyes stare at him, shimmering, but you blink it away and replace it with a smirk. Because he’s sure if you were any other woman, you’d be jingling your keys and sending him all the signs. But you’re not like those women.

It’s the reason you’re the only one he doesn’t want to roll his eyes at when you speak.

“I’m not someone you should want to be more than friends with, Miller,” you say gently, shifting the book over your front.

“That so?”

Nodding, you flash him one of your usual smiles, dropping your eyes to the floor. “Yeah, I bite.”

Joel tells himself there’s plenty to do when he’s alone.

He can read—learn about space, study carpentry, maybe even just be, relax. He could pick at guitar strings until chords and melodies came back to him.

Instead, he finds himself in front of your door, knuckles out, hammering away at the wood until he hears you shouting for him to come in.

Fuck. The sight of you knocks into him, more prominent this time—more air stolen than just a gasp. Finding you hidden behind your kitchen counter, lips spreading into a smirk, he wants nothing more than to rid.

Powder streaking your cheek, your face free except for it—all bare, natural—the strap of your bra having fallen, all black—lace. The rest of it is hidden beneath a white vest top, your apron shielding the rest of your attire except your bare legs. Bruised, healed scars and thick woollen socks.

“You here to fix somethin’?”

He shouldn’t feel so much from just a smirk, but his mouth is dry, eyes glazing up and down your frame as you lick your lips.

“Or you here to see something?”

Lingering, he digs his hands into his jacket pockets, finding the usual leaning post of your doorframe—watching, secretly admiring but not admiring.

“Your silence doesn’t intimate me, Joel. If anything, it just allows me to talk more.”

Snorting, he shakes his head. “S’not what I’m doing.”

You stop mixing, hands hovering over the bowl, eyes narrowing, assessing, but smiling. “Right. Of course.”

He doesn’t like it. The tone. The way you let each letter fall from your tongue, laced in something he can’t quite work out. So, he steps closer, boots booming as he moves more into the kitchen.

“Whatever errand Tommy has you on, I’m fine. It’s only me here now, anyway.”

He nods. “Y’have someone else here then? Before.”

Before, even he hears how it moves around the room, pulsating, thickening. Your eyes drop back to the bowl, moving ingredients and making flour dust tinge in the air.

“A while ago, yes.”

For you, it’s curt—sharp. Another notch rallied against the evidence that sweet and fucking kind wasn't all there was to you.

Then you lift your eyes, devoid of all he’s used to in them. “I don’t need anything fixing, Joel.”

He stands. Loiters. A part of him wondering what you mean by fixing, because he suspects you don’t mean furniture, porches and doors. He suspects there’s more ravelled inside of you, a thing he wants to tug on, yank at—let it unspool out until he can digest it all, and consider, just maybe, if he can unspool his out too.

It’s why he’s unwilling to leave, more out of sheer stubbornness because, in truth, you’re the only one he doesn’t despise talking to. One of the few who don’t look at him with questions, with a scowl. A scarlet letter stitched into him, sewn by the things he’s done to breathe and survive.

So, he remains. Watching as your movements become more erratic, more charged. Your anger ploughed into the dough, it forming, thickening at your fingers as though your whispered hissed sweats were like enchantments getting it to form.

“No good comes from staying, Miller.”

He lifts his chin, brow raising. “That so?”

Nodding, you lightly smirk. “Yeah. Because then you’ll realise I’m not all that to be around, and it’ll mean you have to talk to another human.”

Moving to your side of the counter, he stares at the contents of the bowl. “Y’not too bad to be around.”

“Fuck, you flatter me, Joel.”

It’s there again. That sparkle, the shimmer. The glint in your eye that shoots down to his cock, the same one from the porch. The one he sees when he passes you in the street, and you tell him he’s looking good—

“Why d'the kids call you Bee?”

“Because I didn’t like that they called me miss, and you know, I’m often with the bees.”

Something uncurls inside of him—a fire partially ignoring, a fuse switched. A thing which made him feel both young and old all at once as he leaned, the scent of you mixed with whatever you were baking, all intoxicating—enough to burn the odour of decomposition from his memory for life. A smell that is so reminiscent of you, so genuine and real.

Lifting his chin, he finds you already watching him. “What’d y’like me to call you?”

Your hands pause, flour clinging to your palms, your hands. “I like that you call me Honey, Miller.”

Nodding, he smiles, folding his arms as he leans again—just like he had done over a week ago. “Honey, it is.”

He doesn’t just see you around, he begins to see you in his dreams, too.

Not frequently, but when he’s able to enjoy a night’s sleep not ruined and tainted with nightmares, you’re there. Sometimes fleeting, sometimes more present. A thing, an anchor—looping yourself around him, figuratively, literally. A different kind of heat on his cheeks when he wakes after those, a different fist to his chest as he tries to level his breathing.

He doesn’t show it when he’s awake. When the bitter chill in the air makes his hands rub together and your eyes find his over the top of Ellie’s head, her interest suddenly in bees is unsurprising. Joel has learn, that anything that stings, seems dangerous, or kicks, seems to get the kid intrigued.

Joel just smiles at you, burning a thank you into your eyes—for doing this for her, with her. Giving her something to chatter incessantly over food with him. But it’s the one you give him back that sticks in him, remaining with him until he closes his eyes—it’s another one added to the collection which you wear like an accessory when he dreams.

He likes that you’re there. In his newly formatted dreams—greeting him there too. Little flashes, soft smiles and alluring stares hide your monster and make his bury itself in his chest. Sometimes, you wear white, the picture of innocence—all pure and unbroken. Others, he finds you coated in scarlet, a beautiful oxymoron—his own real-life Carrie.

It’s why he misses your usual comment when you pass his house on the way to the pen. It’s why he looks out for you when he’s tending to some shop door—why Tommy finds him looking around when he’s packing up.

“Y’missing something—or someone?”

Shooting a look, he’s met with a snort, a grin.

“Get outta here, will you?”

Tommy just snorts louder, “She don’t work today—Bee.”

He almost shoots back that’s not your name. It all unfurled on his tongue, the weight of it sitting there. But he swallows it.

“Don’t know what y’mean.”

“Come off it, brother—you’re across the street from me. I see things.”

It lingers with him. Sticks. Clinging to him as he trudged back, Ellie hammered her feet down the stairs to greet him, a thousand and one things shooting out at him. Question after question—some he hears clearly, others get lost in the excitement. More names, more people she’s made friends with—

“So can I?”

“Can y’what?”

She shifts—shyness present, a look he’s not used to seeing on her. “Can I go watch the movie at theirs?”

All he can think is, that she looks like Sarah—that same permissive look that children adopt when talking to their parents.

The unease. The hoping—but not wanting to show too much. Just in case. As though by expecting, it’ll hurt more if he says no.

Not that he would. Not that he does.

Her chorus of thank you’s painting the house in glitter and gold, his smile challenging to hide as he puts away the toolbox—and removes his boots.

“I heard Bee’s at home.”

Turning his head, he knows he’s pulling a face. A mix of how do you know and what you getting at, all mushed and rolled into one.

Ellie just shrugs, that annoying knowing one that he remembers back when she cracked the radio. The look of deviousness and mischief swirling in her eyes and spreading to her lower face.

“Get outta here, kid.”

You bought him a batch of shortbread.

They’re encased in a tin—it’s small, circular. It’s old, likely restored as best as it could be from wherever it was taken from. But, the contents are new—sweet, rather perfect, even if your note attached had been describing them as anything but.

Joel hadn’t been here when it arrived, coming home to the lid already off, a small plate next to it, adorned in crumbs. He supposed if Ellie liked it, he would—and fuck did he.

“So, she just baking you things now?”

“Looks like it.”

He knows all of Ellie’s faces—each emotion stitched into it. A scowl here, a surprised look here. Tonight was a cross between sarcasm and, really, man.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Shifting his weight, he dips his chin. Staring, right over his nose as she holds her hands up, excusing herself, dashing up the stairs before signalling his lack of an answer with the slam of her door.

He could admit that each time he sees you, you flirt—that you’re still all kind, sweet. But, Joel knows there is an edge to it. Something simmering, bubbling. A current attempting to wrap itself around the two of you and pull you under—laced with flirtations, them prickling in the air.

It reaches a new height quickly, his fingers plucking at strings as you walk past. Your eyes glazed, the night heavy—a storm brewing in the air, something he can feel, half-expecting rain to fall down and do its usual cleanse of the soil, leaves and muck.

He had seen you pause, turning your frame to his porch. Climbing it, stopping yourself from stepping on the top step.

“Y’good, neighbour?”

He snorts. “You’re drunk.”

“Merry.” Your correction comes with a smirk. “Drunk makes me sound like I can’t handle it—and I can handle it.”

Sliding the guitar from his lap, he looks at you leaning, that same smirk. The one that’s been growing over the days, weeks. One that makes his blood boil and his jeans tighten.

“You know, if you ever feel like playing with something that sounds just as pretty, Miller, you let me know.”

Whatever retort he’d been about to give, fizzles, dies. It slides back down his throat as you throw up a wave, practically skipping down his steps. Not even looking back as you walk that bit further to your own place, before you’re out of view.

He should go in, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he watches your home, as you flick a light on as you move through your home—hidden by curtains and blinds.

Joel can’t hear anything, but a part of him wishes he could.

Wondering whether you sing to yourself, whether you’re clumsy—and you paint the air with fucks and shits. Whether you’re thinking about him…

Joel picks up the guitar again, calloused fingers ready to brush over strings.

But he just hears you. A ghostly echo of your statement, humming, swirling around the porch.

Leaning it against the side of the house, he stands, bones creaking, porch chair groaning, as he heads inside.

Needing another door and wall between you and your confession and the relief he needs to find to be able to look you in the eye tomorrow.

CHAPTER THREE ->

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x y/n #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #pedrostories #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

413 notes · View notes

theminecraftbee · 8 months

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so a thing this fandom does that remains FASCINATING to me, as a function of the fact a lot of this fandom is people's first fandom or only current fandom, is just... assume a lot of things it does is a scourge that this fandom has invented or doesn't exist outside of it? or like, is uniquely bad here? and i won't deny that sometimes mcyt fandom is a bit more intense by virtue of numbers, but like...

duo names: confusing fandom-injokes to describe duos and groups tend to be an anime fandom thing specifically for many historical reasons, but they're not uncommon. hey quick--if you haven't been in KHR fandom, can you guess what 1827 is? no? i'll give you a hint: that's actually a ship name. or, ygo fans, tell me the difference between puppyshipping, prideshipping, violetshipping, and rivalshipping. my hint is that they're all kaiba ships and two of them are actually the same ship. good luck!

reducing characters to a specific trait: have you read fic in another fandom before? i would recommend you go do so and come back to me. my example here is "sasuke likes tomatoes", for the record.

common au fanon that's confusing to outsiders: my deep cut here is "when i got into certain tv fandoms i was baffled by the existence of sentinel/guide fics", which is a slightly older tv fandom thing so many of you probably don't know what i'm on about. but trust me: in certain fandoms it's ubiquitous and unless you've watched a completely different tv show you're gonna have to entirely pick it up from reading fic. oh hey, hybrid aus and watcher!grian, nice to see your relative here,

fanon being treated as canon: did you know there's this whole bnha character, naomasa, who is treated as canonically having a lie detector quirk? did you know that, best i can tell, that's not in canon anywhere, it just got echoed through fanon enough that everyone treated it as canon? 'fanon trait becomes so ubiquitous everyone assumes it has to be there' is not a new thing. also, batfamily fans, i have been lead to understand the tim and coffee thing is also this.

characters being treated badly to make a different dynamic look better: the fact we have the term 'character bashing' tells you all you need to know, here. if anything my one complaint on this front isn't even that it's happening--it's that i wish bashing and/or "not [character] friendly" was tagged a little more frequently, haha.

characters being reduced to their family dynamics: tale as old as time. "even the family dynamic thing" yes even that. just because this fandom tended to be particularly ship-adverse in the past didn't mean it didn't do basically the same behaviors as any fandom with shipping did with those dynamics, just gen. and other gen fandoms also do that. yes, down to the "and shipping reduces them to a ship, unlike my gen dynamic, which is very in-character; why can't people just be friends?" thing. some of you have to have been marvel fans right.

characters being reduced to their ships: some of you have to have been marvel fans right.

The Discourse: yeah this is an "actively running show" fandom thing, but also a hiatus fandom thing. ask a homestuck about vriskourse sometime. as much as i hate to say it, it probably made doomsday discourse look cute.

and those are just like... some things i've seen people complain about on my dash recently. idk it just hit me there are probably fans in mcyt fandoms who are assuming that some things (like hybrid aus or duo names) are the kind of things that only happen here, so i thought i'd offer some examples of other places they happen! i also have even more examples if you'd like.

to be clear: this isn't shaming anyone for complaining about any of these things. lord knows i go complain to my friends about it all the time, just the other day i was complaining in the category of 'they keep bashing my guy'. it's more of just... a gentle reminder that maybe we're big, maybe we're loud, maybe we have problems... but these problems aren't always unique.

so uh. we're all suffering together i guess...?

#discourse #<- because. yeah.#this isn't meant to start a discourse this is more me laughing about Fandoms Is The Same #its also why i'm not bringing up the More Serious types of Fandoms Is The Same because i don't want to make light of it #and am instead bringing up the pettier ones #this sparked initially by someone acting like duo names are a this-fandom only phenomenon after years of being a ygo fan #and i was like. oh i've done this song and dance many a time.#and then i was thinking about posts complaining about things like fd and ships and everything else and i was like. oh that's an OLD song #so here. so we all remember sometimes that we all suffer together lol #this isn't a vague of anyone in particular i just constantly waver about making this specific post #anyway back to my usual discourse-free self

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flamingpudding · 6 days

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I had a crack idea that I was thinking of so you know in Dan is Klarion au I was imagining a au based off of that one where all of Danny's children are Klarion is like the robin thing for Batman it started off with Danielle when nabu insulted Danny as the Ghost King and Balance

Ever since Ellie decided that she needed to get back in blood so she made the chaotic antihero Klarion and and her suppose it familiar 'cat' Teekl the way to help out her mother and mess with Dr Fate/Nabu Teekl is actually a bear with an illusion on that makes him look like a cat in the human's eyes

Whatever since the anti-hero Klarion in The Phantom family has been passed down each of them giving their own flair to the persona of Klarion with a different animal every time that they had pretending to be a cat

Tell her to finally passed on to Dan it is an honorary sibling thing each of them has their own antihero name once they passed down the title of Klarion

Diana's query and takes after his father's style of dressing and his tickle is a phoenix

First of Thanks for the Ask! Inspirational as always! Helps with my writers block [insert awkward laugh]

Either way because this is split in two asks... you get two version! One focused on how it started and the other on the reveal! Though the might be some little Shorts... Also there is something really funny to me about a giant bear letting Illusionen into a cat... So Enjoy!

(BTW still thinking over the other ask... and working on it don't worry!)

------------------

Ellie huffed as Danny reprimanded her for her actions. She just huffed crossing her arms. She was just helping Danny. Her mom got a lot on his shoulders and she as the sort of oldest saw that the best. Sure technically Dan was older then her but, he shrunk down to kid level again and now she was the oldest.

Well if she ignored her other brothers but they were only saved recently and still in treatment with Frostbite. So she was the oldest. End of story.

"Ellie you can't just go off like that you know that messing with an Ancient is not-"

"Mom, That Nabu-Guy was being a pain in the a- " - "Ellie!" - "A PAIN, babbling on to much about Order here Order there. How keeping Balance means keeping Order and bla bla bla!" She cut in stopping her mom before he could go on another rant about the Ancients, she needed to treat with respect.

"He doesn't respect you, the Ancient of Balance! You are the literal Symbol of Balance between Life and Death! Aside from being the Ghost King. So of course I had to mess with the one HE mentors!" Ellie added huffing as she crossed her arms.

Danny pinched the bridge of his nose. "Ellie, you created an entire alternate persona!"

"Yea so?"

"You used an illusion spell on Fluffels!"

"And? Any good Anit-Hero needs a Mascot." Ellie shrugged once more looking up at her mom before looking over to Fluffels, her pet ghost grizzly that was pretty much double maybe even tripple her size and the fluffiest ghost grizzly you could find in the entire Ghost Zone, and the cutest.

Danny on the other hand groaned, wondering if he had done anything wrong while raising Danielle. Sure he had been a teen himself but good damit why the hell did Ellie decided messing with the Ancient of Order or rather his mentee was a good idea. "I am calling Jazz! You can explain to her what you were thinking!"

He was definitely to overworked and stressed to deal with Ellies mischievousness right now. Well she did call her alternate persona Klarion, Lord of Chaos. Nope! He was not dealing with this right now, so Danny did the sanest thing he could think of. Turning on his heel and walking away. Where to? Who cares maybe he would check in with his old man Clockwork and see what Ellie had actually been up to, instead of just reading through Nabu's complains.

Ellie on the other hand blinked watching her mom leave before calling after him. "Does that mean I have to stop, being Klarion?"

"Mom?!"

"MOM!"

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"Well hello my lovely Amadillos! Long time not seen!"

Ellie shouted cheerfully as she twirled into appearing hair styled into a horn like form, black suit and she might have over done it a little with the black eyeliner but hey it was an iconic look wasn't it. She smirked as Fluffles growled which translated into a meow for the mortals before her thank to the illusion spell.

The mortal teen looked up at her surprised as she floated down her hand glowing with red ectoplasm (a color change from her usual green ectoplasm that had taken a while to learn from Pandora). Young Justice was currently transporting something of interest to her. Well of Interest for the Justice League, really but Doctor Fate was involved which meant Nabu was involved, which naturally meant she would get involved. It didn't hurt that she would also get to try to try some new tricks.

"You got something interesting there... and I want that." She grinned. Ellie didn't give them long before she acted using the new tricks she had learned.

"Woah! Hey there, watch the pointy and sharp thowies!" She laughed making a quick shield as she blocked some batarangs and arrows before blinking.

"Hey they look different. Robin, did you change equipment? Did you get a new haircut too?" She asked curious but didn't really receive an answer as they ignored her questions and shouted something about distracting her while the others continue the transportation. Still she bend down to pick one of them up twirling it between her fingers. "What gives didn't they have a different design before?"

In hindsight it was probably not a good idea to just abandon her original goal but Robin was making her curious. And she could always find a different way to mess with Nabu. Her mom had given her an indirect okay years ago anyway.

"Teekl!" She called out and only her eyes could see how Fluffles jumped at the call growling in response as he swatted away some of the more annoying Young Justice kids. To the mortals it probably looked like Teekl was using ectoplasm, or well magic, in their eyes.

She used that change to go up into Robins face smirking widely as she looked at the other more closely, trying to get a read on him. "You are different! You aren't the same Robin I meet before!"

She ducked in time avoid Superboy as she hopped back excited with a new idea for her family.

But first she would have to deal with the little chaos and mischief she was creating.

------------------

".....and that is how I learned that the Robin title is getting passed down. So I was thinking of doing the same!" Ellie broadly stated looking at all her younger siblings before her. "We all get pretty annoyed with the way Nabu treats Mom so there always has to be a Lord of Chaos to 'balance' Nabu out!"

She grinned at her siblings expecting the same kind of excitement she had and they didn't disappoint. Danny had been there for all of them, even going so far as in to find a way with Clockwork to save some of their lives. So of course they all would jump at the change to mess with the one Ancient that was badmouthing their Mother just because Balance didn't entitle Order the way they wanted.

After all Chaos was needed to Balance Order out.

This was going to be fun...

[Follow up part Linked here]

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aokoaoi · 1 year

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Hey, I know you're writing more stories but if you have time could you write a oneshot? Y/n is mate of Ao'ung and eldest daughter of Jake and Neytiri and in the battle she dies instead of Neteyam taking the bullet instead of him, I know it is a bit angst but for me it's a good idea🥺

Thank you❤️

— pairings : ao'nung x fem!reader.

— warnings : avatar the way of water spoilers. angst. character death. mama neytiri suffers again<\3.

— author's note : this feels just like my first neteyam post all over again but different characters😭.. anyways this was so fun to write imao, i hope you like it<3

It was clear Ao'nung was your favorite amongst the Sully siblings. It wasn't said that he never picked on you, but he rarely did it. After all, you're the eldest siblings of the family, which meant your also older than him.

He respects you of course, more than he respects your younger brother, Neteyam.

It was then he grew some sort of admiration towards you, and the situation turned into a blossoming romance between you two. He has seen the way you act differently towards him as well, you were more soft spoken and casual, rather than stoic and fierce.

It was as if he met another version of you when he managed to befriend you. Since you were just a year older, you treat him as if he was some disobedient child when you get the chance. Whenever he's messing around, you'd be the one scolding him and such.

He'd never go against your words though. It would be like playing with fire.

The boy noticed how you acted more like your mother, you were fierce and responsible on the outside, but in the inside you were actually shy and a softie. Imagine his reaction when he saw you get flustered over his words for the first time.

He was in awe, I tell you.

Greatmother, he was so smitten for you. Absolutely head over heels It drove him insane. He even went to his sister once to help him with his feelings, and Tsireya was just as surprised as he was.

He was planning on telling you his feelings soon, but he felt that it wasn't the right time yet. But as he lost his chance, time had gone thin.

"Where are you going?!" Ao'nung harshly grabs your hand as you tried swimming away with your Ilu. Kiri had justed used some weird reef telekinesis earlier to save all your lives, but your mind was on the battlefield.

"To fight!"

Ao'nung sneered at you words, shaking his head. "You can't go out there! Didn't you see what they had as weapons!? You'll be killed!" He hisses, his grip on your forearm tightening.

"I'm fighting for my brothers and sisters, Ao'nung. I was born to fight! This isn't my first battle." You tell him, trying to jerk off his hold on your hand. He let's out a frustrated breath, brows furrowing.

He hesitantly soften his hold on your arm, and you neared him as he did so. Your hand comes up to his cheek, forcing him to look at you. "I'll be back, okay? I promise." You softly spoke.

He watched as you dived down into the water with your Ilu, eyes brimming with irritated tears. Rotxo comes from behind him, grasping his shoulders. "She'll be alright, mate. (name) is a strong girl."

You emerged from the water with a quick breath, ordering your Ilu to swim faster ad you neared the attack scene. There was so much going on, not to mention Lo'ak's tulkun literally slaughtering the people inside the small boats.

Your breath hitched as an Ikran drops from a rock beside you, aiming a spear at the animal until you saw the familiar patterns and colors of the creature. "Mother." You sighed. The woman shouts your name, hastily yelling at you to come on.

You did as you were told, biting your lip as your feet scrapped on the sharp edges of the rocks. Your mother immediately gets back to flight, barely missing the boat that was being thrown onto the rock.

Your fist tightly held your bow has you aimed on the unprotected sky-people, shooting your arrow at one. You grunted as you hear bullets being shot at your direction, and you turned to see the same Avatar from back home.

Neytiri recklessly dodged the shots, and you aimed a spear from the Metkayina clan at him. Your father then emerged from the water, shooting at the Avatar as your spear was sharply thrown at the demon-blooded's Ikran.

The Ikran falls down into the water with a pained hiss, along with the demon-blooded who bonded with it. You let out a yell at your actions, grinning from ear to ear as your mother does the same.

"Mother, fly by that boat!" You instructed your mother, pointing at the said transportation. She immediately does a sharp turn, hastily flying to the boat.

You dropped down at the thick metal right after your mother hands you your bow, surprising the three as you saw your brother already helping them. "Big sister!" Tuktirey let's out a cry, you simply smiled at her as you brought out the sharp knife from your waist-trainer.

"You okay there, bro?" You asked Lo'ak, watching as he rolls his eyes. "Who is the mighty warrior?" You hear Neteyam tease the boy, Lo'ak scoffs, but doesn't hide his obvious smile.

"Come on! Let's not waste time." You scolded the two as they laughed together, hitting the back of their heads as they let out a yelp. Neteyam grabs your hand as you two tried to jump from the boat, but you see Lo'ak at the corner of your eyes go the opposite way.

"Lo'ak!" You hiss. You ran towards him, tugging on Neteyam's hands as he looked at you, confused.

"They have spider, we have to get him." He tells you. You furrowed your brows together, unsure of what to do. He slowly stands back up, obviously serious of what he's saying. "Come on you two, we can't just leave him!" He complains.

Neteyam looks at you, and you groaned in annoyance. "Fine! Skxawng." You sneered, grabbing your bow harshly that it could practically break. Lo'ak grins at your agreement, and you you followed after him into the boat.

You carefully leaded the way as you now had an eye on where spider was. You aimed your bow at a man, shooting immediately when you had a clear path on his head. The sky-people watching spider let's out a yell, and immediately your brothers dropped down, attacking them.

You hung your bow on your back, grabbing the arrow your used to shoot the man in the head as you sharply drew in through the nearest sky people beside you before they could shoot at your brothers.

You grabbed another one by the neck, standing up straight and pulling him up with all your strength, basing his head onto the metal railings on top of you as you head the breaking of glass from his mask.

Grabbing your knife from your waist-trainer, you spot another human struggling to reach his gun. You pushed Lo'ak away as you used your strength and threw the knife at him, watching as the blade jabbed his chest. Lo'ak looks at you, surprised.

You breathed heavily, scowling as you watched a grin form on his face. "You should teach me that move sometime."

"First, we got out of here. M'kay?" You sneered passively. You grabbed his forearm as you dragged him with you, following Neteyam as he heads the way.

You hopped down from the short staircase, watching as Spider does the same. "Thanks guys." The human says. You waved your hand at him dismissively, your eyes scanning the area. Lo'ak spots another demon blood, and raises his gun.

"No!" You yelled. You let out a hiss as you feel a bullet shoot through your hand, making you instantly grab Lo'ak and drag him to the nearest corner to take cover. Neteyam followed right after, watching the bullets hit the metal railings.

"Give me that!" Neteyam grabs the gun from Lo'ak, reloading it as he pulls the trigger, carelessly shooting everywhere. "Go jump in the water!" You told the two boys. They looked at you hesitantly, and you sneered. "Goddamn it, hurry!" You growled.

They instantly jumped down, and your hastily grabbed the gun from Neteyam. "Let's go!" You yelled. He goes after Lo'ak, jumping in. You let out nervous breaths, your ear twitching as you hear the footsteps nearing your direction.

You took big steps forward, running towards the water and diving in. A stinging pain swelled up in your chest, but before you could let out a pained yell, you dropped into the water.

Hurriedly swimming back into the surface, you watched as your brothers celebrate their escape. Tsireya arrives with her Ilu, instructing you four to get on. Neteyam glanced at you as he notices you struggling to swim, his smile dropping.

"(name)—?"

His eyes then lingered at the blood seeping the water near you, and his heart dropped at the sight. "Shit!, (name)–" He jumped from the Ilu, swimming towards you as you struggled to keep your head above water.

"Oh no." Tsireya gasps, gaze on the bloodied water.

"Hold her up!" Neteyam hisses at spider as he placed your body on top of the girls ilu. You growled and slapped Spider's hand away, but then choked when your hand pressed against your chest.

"It's okay, sister. I've got you, okay? D-dont close your eyes." Lo'ak says, stuttering over his words. "S—skxawng. Why would I do that." You hissed harshly, your voice wavering as you struggled to breathe for air.

"Let's go!"

"But— they have Kiri and Tuk." Tsireya speaks up. Your ear twitched at her sentence, you kept a hand on your chest as Neteyam does the same, his hand over yours while he applied pressure.

"Just breathe, sister." Neteyam softly said, his voice wobbling.

Your brother leads the Ilu towards a rock, spotting your father. "Dad! Dad, help!" Lo'ak shouts. They carefully carried your body as they placed you on the rock, careful not to hit your head. Tsireya sobbed at the sight of your bloodied torso, shutting her eyes.

"Father—" You spoke up, your blurring eyes seeing the figure of your father next to you.

"Shhh," he turns your body over, seeing that the bullet had completely went though your chest. He mutters a cuss as you wheezed for air, coughing and choking as your lungs tightened up from the struggling.

He gestured over Neteyam, grabbing his hands as he instructed the boy to put pressure on your chest. Your brother does as he was told, and you yelled at the feeling of the pressure.

You sobbed at the aching sensations swirling through your chest, eyes blinking the tears collecting in your eyes as it refused to fall from your cheeks. Your mother the arrives after hearing your yell from a small distance, eyes widening at the sight of your blood on your brothers hands.

"No! No, no, (name), don't do this." She let's out a cry, kneeling down beside you. "My sweet girl.." neytiri sobs at your cries, your chest heaving as the pressure Neteyam was putting on your chest only made the feeling worst.

"Ma—"

Neytiri sharply inhales at your call, her big hands grasping your own as she let's the sensation of your hands caress her cheek, "Yes, ma child? Speak to me."

"I'm sorry." She shakes her head at your words, breaking down. "I'm so sorry, mother— I let you down." You heaved for air desperately, watching as your mother sobs harshly.

"No, child. It's gonna be okay, I'm here for you. We're all here—"

"(name)?" Tsireya turned at the sound of her brother's voice. She let's out a tight exhale as she stood up, walking towards her brother as she immediately engulfed him into an embrace.

Ao'nung walks away from his sisters embrace, walking towards you. He kneels beside you, eyes scanning your face as he watches the trails of previous tears make wet patterns on your face. "Ao'nung." You coughed up.

"Shit, just breathe, okay? You're gonna be fine— you're fine," Ao'nung continued to convince himself that as he placed a hand on top of Neteyams hand when he saw the bloodied wound. You shake your head with a tired sigh, blinking repeatedly as it was already hard to keep your eyes open.

You smiled at him before your last breath slipped from your mouth, your struggled breathing halting as your choking seized. Neteyam snapped his attention to your face, seeing how you've completely gone cold. Ao'nungs hand twitched as he feels your chest stop beating, blinking repeatedly.

Neytiri cries out in anguish, the palm of her hand touching your face as she cradled your head. "My child!" She exclaims, bringing your head up to her chest as you didn't move a muscle.

Ao'nung's breath trembled as his hand slipped from your skin, looking at the light from your eyes disappear, and it was replaced with a blank, empty gaze. "No."

Tsireya sobbed at his words, watching as he shakes his head repeatedly. "No, (name), you can't do this to me." His voice trembled as he hicced, sniffing harshly. "You promised!" He yells, his voice loud and clear despite your mother's cries.

Tsireye looks down as her brother leaned against her, his head on her shoulder as he sobbed on her shoulder. "She lied."

"Im sorry, brother." Tsireya sympathetically spoke up, wiping her tears as she wrapped her arms around her sobbing brother, feeling his shoulders shake from his trembling cries. "She promised me, Tsireya. She promised to come back." Ao'nung harshly breaths.

Your father looks at the two upon hearing Ao'nung's words, sighing as he embraced his wife was she continued to cry out for you, begging for Eywa to bring you back.

"I didn't get to tell her." Tsireya hushed her brother, cradling him against her as she took in his sobs.

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thelunarsystemwrites · 1 month

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Agere terminology!

Originally posted on QuoteV!

(Please keep in mind, at the roots, Regression is a coping/defense mechanism that many rely on. If it makes you uncomfortable, that is fine, you are entitled to your safe space. But please do not shame us who do it, and understand that it is in no way a kink, or anything sexual. It's always SFW!)

(Also, mentions of panic attacks, trauma, and the term sexual are used here. But NEVER in detail! It is only for educational purposes.)

Age-regression: Is when someone mentally reverts back to the mindset of a younger age. This can range from a few years younger, to that of an infant. Those who are in the mindset of a child, can not consent to things they normally could. (Example: Alcohol.)

Pet-Regression: Is when someone mentally retreats to the mindset of similar to an animal. This allows our wilder sides to be free. Those who are in the mindset of an animal can not consent to things they normally could. (Example: Alcohol.)

(Note the difference between Retreats and Reverts. Retreat implies it is a mindset that was not experienced before, but still used. Revert implies that you are going back to an age you once were! :D both are very valid coping mechanisms!!)

Age-Dreaming: Is when someone acts, and often wants to be treated, as though they are a specific age of their choice. This can be a coping mechanism, or just for fun. But never is it sexual in any way. Those who are Age-Dreaming are still fully or partly in the mindset of their actual Age, and is still 100% valid.

Pet-Dreaming: Is when someone acts, and often wants to be treated, as though they are a specific animal of their choice. This can be a coping mechanism, or just for fun. But never is it sexual in any way. Those who are Pet-Dreaming are still partly or fully in the mindset if their actual species, but is still 100% valid.

Caregiver: Sometimes known as a Caretaker, is someone who is responsible for caring for a regressor and or dreamer. The Regressor/Dreamer that they are caring for may give them a nickname like Papa, Daddy, Mama, Sissy, Bubba, or whatever else makes them happy. (Note: Some chose not to use nicknames, others might use specific names that are a version of their caregivers name, and or a specific nickname that doesn't relate to being parental. There's no right or wrong way to do it! ^^)

Babysitter: A person who isn't the primary Caregiver(s) of a Dreamer/Regressor, but May watch over them for certain periods of time, especially if the Caregiver isn't available.

Flip: Is someone who fluctuates between being a Regressor/Dreamer, or both, and Caregiver/Babysitter.

Agere: An aberration of Age-Regression.

Petre: An aberration of Pet-Regression.

Agedre: An aberration of Age-Dreaming.

Petdre: An aberration of Pet-Dreaming.

CG: An aberration of Caregiver.

Voluntary regression: Is when someone will purposefully regress into the mindset of an animal/younger age. This can be done for coping, stress relief, fun, etc. And can done by colouring, playing with toys, listening to baby music, or other things that make you feel safe, bring positive emotions out, remind you of your childhood, or the childhood you always wanted. (And hey, some like playing games like destiny, ark, etc! Or like listening to rock, watching shows for older people, it's about what makes YOU feel regressed!)

Involuntary regression: Is when someone will go into the mindset of an animal/younger age. This can be triggered by stress, fear, over or understimulation, or a variety of negative feelings.

Partial-Regression: Sometimes also uses the term Age-Dreaming. Is when someone is only partially in their headspace. Those who are partially regressed can still not consent to what they normally could, as they may not be fully coherent.

Full-Regression: Also known as just Regression. Is when someone is fully regressed, and will think and act as the age, or animal, they have regressed to.

Slipping: Somethings also known as regressing, or dropping, is when someone regresses. (Example: "Mary started to slip into the age of a toddler.")

Littles: Are someone who primarily regresses to the age, or around, 8 and under. This may fluctuate.

Middles: Are someone who primarily regresses to the age, or around, 9 and older. This may fluctuate.

Regressors: The general term for someone who regresses/chooses not to label themself!

Dreamers: The general term for someone who dreams.

Littlespace: Sometimes spelled little space or little-space, is the mindset of someone 8 or younger. (Example: Mary slipped into Littlespace.)

Middlespace: Sometimes spelled middle space or middle-space, is the mindset of someone 9 or older. (Example: Mary slipped into Middlespace.)

Petspace: Sometimes spelled pet space or pet-space, is the mindset of someone who is pet regressed! (Example: Mary slipped into Petspace.)

Headspace: Sometimes spelled head space or head-space, is the general term for Littlespaces, Middlespaces, and Petspaces.

Positive regression: Previously known as Pure regression. Is when regressed, you might feel happy, bubbly. It can involves playing, laughing, and or other things associated with the happier side of regression. (Note: some still chose to use the term Pure Regression, and that's absolutely okay!)

Negative regression: Previously known as Impure regression. Sometimes known as Vent Regression. Is when regressed, you may feel sad, moody, angry. It can involve tantrums, crying, kicking, and or other things associated with the less happy side of regression. (Note: some still chose to use the term Impure Regression, and that's absolutely okay!)

Little gear: Sometimes spelled littlegear or little-gear, is the supplies used while regressed/dreaming, this can include, but not limited to: Pacifiers. Blankies. Bottles. Fidgets. Diapers. And or other things used by Regressors/Dreamers, that fit their age and preferences! (Note: Little gear isn't required to regress! ^^)

Petre gear: Sometimes spelled petregear or petre-gear, is the supplies used while regressed/dreaming, this can include, but not limited to: Chew toys. Teethers. Treats. And or other things used by Regressors/Dreamers, that fit their animal and preferences. (Note: Petre gear isn't required to regress! ^^)

(Often both can be shortened to just Gear if wanted!)

Positive triggers: Are something used to trigger someone into Voluntary regression. (Example: Colouring, Music, Dancing, Etc.)

Negative triggers: Is something that triggers unwanted memories, Involuntary regression, panic attacks, or other things that are unwanted to the regressor.(Example: a Negative trigger caused Mary to have a flashback.)

In the closet: It is when someone who is part of the Agere/Petre community is still secret. Sometimes, they are also known as Discreet Littles! (Generally, "closeted" means you are secretly, or not directly promoting that you are in a certain community. The term is often associated with it's use in the LGBTQIAP+ community!)

Finally, if you know a term that I don't, do not be afraid to share! And remember, not all regressors/dreamers are the same! One may love Pacifiers, the other may strongly dislike them. That's okay! We're all different and unique in our own ways!

Remember that Agere is beautiful, all sides of it. Sometimes you have to have negative regression to feel better, it's okay! All sides of it are needed, and rather voluntarily or not, it's your brain trying to help you, and cope! It's a completely healthy coping mechanism, as long as you don't let it become your life 24/7. (That goes for all coping mechanisms, becoming obsessive over something is a big factor in it becoming unhealthy!)

Please try to hydrate! Stay safe! And have a wonderful day/night/evening my friends!

(To confirm: When regressed, you are still valid if you like swearing while regressed. You are still valid if you like playing/watching more mature games or shows or movies while regressed. You are still valid if nobody can tell you're regressed without you telling them. There are no rules to regression, expect that it's never sexual. Cater to how YOU need to regress, not everyone fits into the same box, and that's the beauty of diversity in how we each do it.)

Remember I'm not an expert! I've been in the community for years, and I'm trying to share my knowledge! :D

Bai!! ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🩷🩵🤎🖤🩶💛

207 notes · View notes

coffeecubes · 1 year

Text

𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬

✩ 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✩

⚡ 𝙄𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙂𝙤𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙏𝙝𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙨 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙖 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙗𝙞𝙙𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙘𝙚𝙧𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙡. 𝘼𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚, 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙡𝙮 𝙗𝙚𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙛𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙞𝙣 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙝𝙞𝙢 𝙩𝙤𝙤 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙤𝙤 𝙨𝙝𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙛𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙝𝙞𝙢. 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙪𝙚𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙡 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙪𝙣𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩𝙪𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙣𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩, 𝙨𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙣𝙩 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙. 𝙔𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧, 𝙝𝙚 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙙 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙫𝙤𝙬𝙨 𝙩𝙤 𝙣𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙚𝙩 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙜𝙤.

⚡ 𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 ⚠️: 𝙨𝙢𝙪𝙩, 𝙨𝙚𝙭, 𝙡𝙤𝙩𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙚𝙭, 𝙖 𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙚 𝙗𝙞𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙥𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝 𝙨𝙚𝙭, 𝙙𝙤𝙢/𝙨𝙪𝙗.

⚡ (Name) didn’t know much about her early life. All she remembered was fighting and before she knew it, her parents were slain in front of her. Her mind didn’t think straight as she was sold off constantly by greedy gods who could pay anything to get their hands upon her because of her ethereal beauty.

She didn’t have much hope in life despite being a deity, until one night where she was sold off again. This time, she arrived at a huge castle that was made of what looked like gold.

Here, she met her new master and his son.

Odin was much kinder and reserved while his son Thor, the God of Thunder, was a god of a few words. The Allfather assigned (Name) as Thor’s personal maid and the first time the two met, the god himself was taken aback by her appearance.

He had never seen anyone like her before, his eyes taking in this newfound female. Pretty soon, (Name) would make herself work under Thor.

(Name) would work endlessly to please her god, cleaning his bedroom, changing his sheets, wiping the floors, arranging his artefacts, and many other housekeeping things. She didn’t mind working as Thor’s maid, since it was a much better life compared to the ones with her previous masters. The other maids were also kind to her, and it was the first time (Name) called a place like Asgard home.

Thor and (Name) never talked despite being so close to each other. He didn’t like socialising and (Name) thought he wouldn’t be interested in talking to a lowly maid like herself, because of his high status.

Though as time flew by, she noticed that he would always glance at her whenever they were in the same room. When (Name) was busy doing her work, she could feel his piercing golden eyes from where he was standing. Everytime when she was alone, Thor would show up moments later to do his own thing.

Once in a while, (Name) would meet his eyes by accident and she would offer a small smile. Her own talking skills were pretty bad itself because of her hard past, so she wasn’t good at striking up small conversations.

Thor was extremely kind and patient with her. There were times when the head maid would inform (Name) that the lord wants her to rest. Her schedules would also change from time to time, where she would go to complete her task, only to find it finished. Maids would tell her that Thor ended up doing it in her place, making (Name) start to feel warm and giddy for the first time.

Even Huginn and Muninn would begin to notice Thor’s interest in this particular maid, and they would sneakily inform Odin about it. The Allfather didn’t care one bit, since he knew (Name) wasn’t dangerous.

Speaking of the two birds, they would quickly favour (Name) over the other maids because she would feed them little treats from time to time that she baked during her free time.

Thor would notice this and he would admire her from far away, thinking that a brute and daunting man like himself, didn’t fit in with someone like her. It was a forbidden love between a god and a maid, but it was so tempting and rebelling.

He would watch as she fed Huginn and Muninn with the treats that she made, along with other animals that roamed around the garden. (Name) was different as she never bothered him and respected his privacy, a contrast to the other maids that would admire him verbally -- too verbally, from afar.

He watched how beautiful and happy she looked, a contrast to her sad look the day she arrived here. There were times when he would hear her sing or watch her paint, and he noted that he very much preferred her smiling face.

Just seeing her, even if it was just a glimpse, was enough to make Thor’s heart ache.

But someone as gentle as her could never be with someone as rough as him.

Little did he know, she fell in love with him too.

(Name) didn’t know if he loved her back but she doubted it. He was the almighty and fearsome God of Thunder and she had a good feeling there were tons of goddesses and deities who were interested in marrying him.

Even some maids developed a crush on the silent god, diminishing (Name)’s chances even more. There was a time on “Lovers’ Day” - made by Aphrodite, where the divine can give each other chocolates and small gifts to express their gratitude.

(Name) ended up making her own chocolates and vowed to herself that she would give it to Thor. Only to watch from afar as multiple maids laid their own basket of goods in front of his bedroom door. Feeling casted out, (Name) didn’t give her chocolate, since she knew that Thor wouldn’t care anyway.

Unknowingly to her, the God of Thunder was looking through the pile of chocolates for her very box, but there was none.

This lonely and far love would continue until one unfortunate night, a night where Odin, Thor, and Loki were not home because of a meeting with the Greek gods.

Taking the chance that the Allfather, the God of Thunder, and the God of Mischief were not here, the Jötnar took this chance and invaded the vulnerable Asgard. Angels and the present warriors fought with all their might to fend them off, as the maids and residents of Odin’s castle ran for their lives.

(Name) tried her hardest to run and hide but she tripped over her own white dress, as the incoming giant hand came closer to grab her. Just seconds before her death, she thought about how much she regretted not telling Thor her true feelings.

She wanted a second chance.

And maybe she might get one.

As Forsetti came and grabbed her, the two ran off. (Name) was soon separated from the God of Justice during the catastrophe, the last sight of her body was her being forced out of the walls of Asgard.

When Odin heard about this news, they quickly came back but Thor had other things in mind. He dispatched the giants with little to no effort, killing every single one of them in one sweep.

His golden boots stormed towards (Name)’s room, his heart beating fast and his hope high, praying that she was alright and still alive. Bursting into her room, he was met with the sight of a messy and destroyed room, the once clean and shiny place that (Name) cared for, now a deserted mess.

(Name) was nowhere to be found and Thor looked for her everywhere in Asgard, trying to think of where she could be. It was only when Forsetti came and explained to him that (Name) was pushed out of the walls, was when Thor began to search outside of his home.

Only to gain nothing.

That girl with (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes was nowhere to be found.

Thor looked and looked, trying to track her down but to no avail. Soon months passed and Odin told his son to forget about (Name) and that he should move on. There were plenty of maids and if Thor wanted someone that could work just as hard as (Name), Odin would find his son another one.

Thor was enraged with his father’s decision, as he didn’t understand why (Name) was so important to him. Thor continued to search but (Name) was never found.

Years passed and to this day…

Thor still hoped that she would come back home.

To him.

---

⚡ Six years had passed and after the events of the Jötnar’s invasion, (Name) found herself on earth, selling knitted clothing and paintings that she made to earn money for herself. She had escaped the invasion unwounded but she ended up in the human world, with no idea how to get back.

She never met any god or deity here that can help her. With no other choice, (Name) made herself at home here, finding a little abandoned cottage where she can stay for the rest of her life.

Time flew by and as (Name) made more paintings and clothing, she soon realised that more than five years had passed since she arrived here. Something that always stuck to her was there was always a strong thunderstorm on the day she arrived at Asgard and the day she left it.

A part of her thought if Thor missed her but it’s not possible.

There might be another maid that can be better than her, more beautiful than her, and she knew by now that Thor must be married to a wealthy and powerful goddess. The only thing she regretted was that she never told Thor her love for him.

Even if he was taken by someone else, she would continue to love him, even if he’ll never know it.

(Name) waved goodbye to a customer before she went inside to get something to eat. As she prepared food, she failed to notice the two birds perched on a tree branch. They soon flew away, eager to let someone who never gave up on her after all these years.

(Name) was busy tending her garden when she heard the sound of footsteps coming her way. She stood up and wiped her hands clean before she turned around to greet her customer, only for her eyes to widen.

There standing in front of her, was Thor, who stared back at her with his golden eyes.

“(Name)...” he said her name for the first time, “you’re alive… I’ve finally found you…”

(Name)’s eyes widened as she took in the god before her. He looked the same, handsome as always with his red hair dancing in the wind and his trusty hammer by his side. This was the first time he talked to her, and she felt a chill run down her spine from his voice.

Was he looking for her this whole time?

“Six years and you are still as beautiful as ever…” Thor told her, his feet stepping closer.

His hand reached out to (Name), waiting for her to grasp it.

“Come… I’ve come to take you home.” Thor said gently, as if scared that he’ll frighten her.

“Lord Thor…” (Name) whispered his name and his eyes softened.

She was still as she gripped her dress. He sensed her hesitation and he came closer until their bodies were just centimetres apart. (Name) looked up to see her god, his hand slowly raising to touch her until a voice stopped him.

The two turned to see a couple of mortal customers, blinking with confusion at the sight before them.

“Um… is the shop still open?”

---

⚡ Evening came and pretty soon, all the customers had left. (Name) had invited Thor into her home as she went over to assist the humans. After that, she cooked some food for the both of them, trying to ignore the fact that Thor was exploring her home she made for six years. When it came to dinner, the two ate in a comfortable silence, though Thor almost ate her whole kitchen clean because of his big appetite.

Now, (Name) washed the dishes while she felt Thor’s stare on her, awaiting her answer. As she was placing the dishes back into the cabinet, she froze when strong muscular arms went around her waist, as Thor placed his head in her neck.

“I’m sorry.”

(Name) blinked from his words as she glanced at the god.

“I’m sorry about the invasion.” Thor spoke into her skin, “I should have stayed there. I shouldn’t have listened to my father and went to the party. I should have stayed and protected you… because of me, I lost you all these years.”

“If you don’t want to come back-”

“Lord Thor!” (Name) gasped and he raised his head, “please, it’s not your fault that the Jötnar attacked. You shouldn’t place the blame on yourself because of the inevitable.”

His eyes softened at her words as (Name) stroked his cheek, her soft thumb caressing his golden markings.

“This is the first time we spoke together…” Thor hummed and (Name) nodded, “I like it. I like your voice.”

“I like your voice too.” (Name) smiled.

“I missed you.” he told her tenderly, and her eyes widened.

“I-I missed you too.” she whispered shyly.

He soon leaned in until their lips were just millimetres apart. (Name) felt her heart begin to beat as his golden eyes bored into her own (e/c) ones.

“I love you.”

With that, he kissed her deeply. (Name) closed her eyes and she kissed back, feeling Thor kiss her with every fibre of his being. His hands soon found her waist as he pulled her in closer, while her hands cupped his face and caressed his skin.

The desire and love for the six missed years soon came in as Thor broke apart. (Name) was out of breath before she gasped when he attacked her neck, bruising and kissing her thin skin. His hands that were on her waist took hold of her form and he picked her up, before throwing her onto the bed in her bedroom.

Thor removed his gloves and set his hammer in front of the closed bedroom door and closed the curtains, before he climbed over (Name) and resumed his marking. (Name) whimpered and moaned when his teeth bit down on her sweet spot, as the god began to mark her deeply as his own possession.

His hands wandered around her body, exploring and massaging her breasts that were covered by that damn dress. The heat in (Name)’s core was getting stronger as Thor kissed down her collarbone before he began to untie the back of her dress.

Soon enough, the cold air hit her skin and her nipples perked, making (Name) grow shy as Thor took all of her naked body in. Feeling self-conscious, (Name) covered up herself with her arms, but he took them away.

“Don’t hide yourself from me, (Name). You’re so beautiful…” he kissed her deeply, before he took off his own clothing.

(Name) watched how hard and ready he was for her as Thor’s hands found their way on her round breasts, playing and squeezing them tenderly. (Name)’s moans at this point was uncontrollable as she gasped when Thor began suck on her nipples with his mouth, while his other hand slowly rubbed her other breast in a circular motion.

Letting go of her nipple with a pop, he gave the other breast the same treatment, as the God of Thunder relished himself with her soft mounds, while the female was losing control of her cries.

Her hand went to her mouth as she feared her sounds would be heard by any travellers, but Thor leaned in, his patience with her getting very thin.

“Cover yourself up again and I won’t be afraid to bind your hands up.” he threatened, before his voice softened, “I want to hear all of you. Let the whole world know who’s going to fuck you.”

(Name) blushed from his words as Thor kissed her breasts down to her stomach, before he made his way towards her entrance, dripping with wetness. His large finger slid open her bottom lips, before he curiously pushed one in, making (Name) gasp.

“M-my lord…” she whimpered, as he began to pump the digit in and out.

“You smell good, (Name).” Thor grunted, adding another digit in to prepare her further for the height of the night.

(Name) whined and mewled, feeling his fingers move in and out of her, as they rubbed her walls mercilessly. One of his fingers touched her g-spot, making (Name) flinch, but Thor caught on. He then nudged his finger at that spot, staying there for a while, making (Name) moan messily with pleasure.

She felt her orgasm come when he began to scissor motion his fingers, but just when she was about to release, he pulled out.

(Name) looked at him with astonishment but Thor didn’t care, spreading her legs far and wide as he poked his hard member against her aching womanhood.

“Lord Thor-”

“Shush, my precious princess.” he shut her up, his own body wanting to take her right away.

He teasingly rubbed his head against her fold in a cruel manner, causing her body to shiver.

He was about to push himself in when (Name) took his arm and pleaded.

“Lord Thor, i-it’s my first time.” she told him, “please be gentle with me.”

“I will, my little beautiful dove.” Thor replied lovingly, “I’m happy to be your first time. It’s my first time too.”

(Name) smiled as he towered over her, before he pushed himself in. (Name) shut her eyes and held his beefy arms, feeling how thick and big he was. Thor held himself back from fucking her into oblivion, as he didn’t expect her to feel this good and to be this tight.

(Name) was trying to adjust to his size, her legs shuddering. Her breath went fast from this new feeling, the pain being present as Thor kissed her face and mumbled comforting words to her.

Soon, the pain went into pleasure and feeling her tighten even more around him, Thor gripped her waist and began to move gently into her. (Name) moaned and hugged his large frame, as he thrust gently in and out of her vagina, the head of his manhood digging further and further inside of her.

This slow pace was absolutely torturing Thor, as he was trying to contain himself. He didn’t want to hurt her as he gritted his teeth, trying to keep this slow rhythmic tempo of thrusts.

But it was almost impossible, seeing her beautiful face contorted and shifted into bliss and happiness, her lips babbling only his name.

Yes, only Thor will make her feel this way.

No other man will touch her.

Thor grunted and growled, feeling himself lose it amidst the pleasure, as he gradually picked up his pace. Pretty soon, the promised gentleness was all gone as Thor pounded into her like an animal gone wild. (Name) whimpered, feeling his hands on her breasts once more, squeezing them as he moved his hips into hers.

A wet sound was heard in the room along with skin slapping on skin, as the god took her like a ravaging beast. (Name) cried out each time he hit her g-spot, feeling his large and thick member rub deliciously against her walls, as the pit in her stomach began to grow bigger and bigger.

Thor caressed her thighs, loving the feeling of her soft skin, staring at the way her flesh curved in from his hands gripping her. He watched his member go in and out of her wet cunt, his pace now inhumane.

(Name)’s breasts bounced with each thrust as she gripped his gorgeous red hair, until she finally released. Her eyes saw stars as she slowly rode down on her orgasm, but Thor continued on his thrusting.

“My lord!” (Name) cried out, and Thor lost it even more when he heard her voice.

“Love…” he called her, on the verge of exploding into bliss.

Seeing her release also made Thor come, as he grunted and spilled all of his godly seed into her womb, filling her up. He rode out his high by thrusting gently until he pulled out, watching the liquid that was inside of (Name) drip out.

“So wet…” the female thought, feeling all the contents come out of her.

(Name) was gasping for breath until she blinked when she was turned over by Thor and was laying on her stomach. She gasped and turned her head to see Thor, caging her with his giant body from behind, as he prepared himself for another round.

“W-wait, my lord--” (Name) pleaded, “let me rest-”

“I’m not finished.” he quiet her down once more, “let your lord fuck you. It’s your punishment for leaving me alone for six long years.”

(Name) yelped with pleasure and surprise when he inserted himself into her once more. She was very sensitive now as he felt even bigger than before. (Name) laid on her stomach, with her hands beside her head, as Thor placed his larger ones over them, intertwining their fingers together.

He soon began his rough and dominating pace again, making (Name) moan shamelessly into her pillow. She had never felt this good before, and it felt even more special when it was the man she was in love with.

His golden eyes watched her butt bounce from each of his thrust, his giant hands placing themselves on her cheeks.

(Name) mewled when he began to massage her buttcheeks cruelly, before she yelped when he spanked it gently. He continued to spank her soft butt, feeling rewarded with each cute noise that escaped from (Name)’s lips. Thor watched her butt slowly turn red from each slap, before he moaned and picked up his pace.

“Fuck… you’re so beautiful, (Name).” Thor grumbled, while (Name) let out a pitiful mewl in response.

“So cute…” he leaned in and wrapped his arms across her body, bringing her to his chest, “and small… tight… fragile…”

He bit her cheek gently, gripping her face so he could kiss her on the lips.

“And all mine.” he smirked against her face.

His hands gripped her ass and he lifted it into the air, proceeding to ruthlessly bang and pound into her. Precum was dripping from their love making, as his hands mushed themselves into her ass and Thor reached deeper into her.

The sound of their skins slapping together made (Name) gasp, her body fidgeting around and her fingers gripping the bed sheet.

(Name) couldn’t take all this pleasure any longer and she released for her second time, making Thor wince from how tight she was once more.

He chased his own climax, his hips smashing (Name)’s own as his hands gripped her ass cheeks tighter and he let out a sigh, letting his seed flow into (Name)’s womb, claiming her a second time.

(Name) panted with exhaustion when Thor let go of her ass, her body tingling from the aftereffect of their love making.

She collapsed on the bed, trying to catch her breath, feeling Thor’s heavy body on top of her. His arms carried his weight from crushing (Name) as he rolled over to lay beside her. His arms reached out and he brought her into his chest, his lips kissing her face as the two soon settled in.

(Name) leaned against his chest, her sleepy eyes staring at the golden marks upon his shoulder. Her hands traced against his chest and muscles, while his hands were wrapped around her body, his own body emitting a comforting warmth against her.

(Name) was just about to doze off to sleep when she looked up, feeling Thor’s lips upon her forehead. His lips lingered against her forehead for a while, before he pulled away, his golden eyes pouring into hers.

“Don’t ever leave me again.”

(Name) blushed from his words and she reached up to cup his cheek.

“I won’t.” she told him genuinely, kissing his lips, “I promise.”

He smiled for the first time and (Name) noted how pretty he was when he did. He brought her closer and pulled the blanket over both of them, their bodies exhausted from the night activity they did.

(Name) cuddled into his arms and just when she was about to sleep, Thor’s voice broke the silence once more.

“Marry me.”

(Name) felt a smile form on her lips and she looked up at her lover, her eyes brimming with tears.

"I will."

---

⚡ “Hey, where did Thor go? He’s been gone for a long time now.” Loki muttered, looking at his nails.

Odin didn’t reply, his one good eye staring at the pile of papers in his hand.

Meanwhile on his shoulders, Huginn and Muninn were cowering and putting their wings upon their ears, trying to get the sound of what they heard at the cottage out of their brains.

✩✩✩

Next: Hades or Qin Shi Huang

My yandere Record of Ragnarok story: Infatuation

Hope you like this smutty smut!

#record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #record of ragnarok x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie x reader #snv thor #ror thor #snv x reader #record of ragnarok smut #snv thor x reader #ror thor x reader #ror smut #snv smut #ror thor smut #ror x reader #snv loki #ror loki #thor

3K notes · View notes

sanjisprincesss · 3 months

Text

It’s a date

ੈ✩‧₊˚Content: what kind of dates the jjk men would take you on.Teeth rotting fluff. With visuals.Gender neutral. Pet names like “darling” “sweetheart” “pretty”

ੈ✩‧₊˚a/n: wrote this watching Hamilton.

ੈ✩‧₊˚Characters: Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Nanami kento, Kamo Choso, Fushiguro Toji.

ੈ✩‧₊˚GOJO- Amusement park

ੈ✩‧₊˚He would take you to a Amusement park.

He would take you to an amusement park. He’s been planning this date since he met you. With that being said satrou wants to make the best first impression possible.

Satrou is down to win you anything stuffed animal prize from any game. By the time you too get home he will be carrying six small and big stuffed plushies with a prideful grin on his face.

Don’t get me started on the sweets. This man will be trying everything sweet pastry he can get his hands on. You too would be rating each treat together. It truly warms his heart to see you smile and giggle at his sweet tooth.

To end the night you too love birds, ride on the fairest wheel together and take in the colorful view of the park. Having a good flirtatious conversation. Overall he just wants you to have a fun time with him.

“What was your favorite part of tonight?”

Gojo grinned at your question as you too watched the firework show. Put his arm around your shoulders as you rest your head on his shoulder. “When you pushed your head against my shoulder when we were on that one roller coaster. You were soo scared!” You both chuckled at the memory you looked away from the show to look at his pretty face. “I was not.” You said pouting at his teasing words.

“My favorite part was the face that the game owner made when you won the bean bag toss on the first try.” You too give each other a knowing look before bursting into laughter “you should have seen it, he was so shocked!” You both stopped laughing and looked at each other “where do you wanna go next pretty?” You grabbed one of the plushies next to you on the bench you and him were sitting on “It’s getting late we should probably head back to the droms, yeah?”

He looks you in the eyes for a second before saying “As you wish sweetheart.” He smirked as you too got up to make your way back to his car. This was definitely a night to remember.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ GETO- Art museum

Suguru would take you to an Art Museum. I have a feeling this man loves a good conversation and wants not a better place to have a semi deep understanding conversation the an Art Museum🤷🏽‍♀️.

You too look at the pretty art and artifacts that catches your eye and try to find the meaning of each piece of artwork. Finding favorites and telling each other what they think of them.

I think he would see it as a way to get to know each other better and see something in a different perspective.

You too definitely create your own names for each art piece. Asking the art museum attendants questions about what certain pieces mean.

“What do you think this one means y/n?” You both looked at the detailed artwork on the wall. You take a minute to gather your thoughts before saying. “ I think it represents romanticism and loyalty. What do you think it means Geto?” There’s a comfortable silence between you too before Suguru turns to you. His caramel colored eyes looking in yours. “Looks like you read my mind, I was thinking the exact same thing.” He smiled softly at the coincidence. Walking to the next artifact. Side to side you both make eye contact with each other before you ask the question “ What should we name that one?” He brushed a strand of your hair out of your face before he said “ Should we name it fondness?” You shook your head yes before looking at the piece again. “Yeah, I love that.”

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ NANAMI- FANCY DINNER

Nanami would definitely take you to a fancy restaurant. He’s keeping it classy with a reservation for a table of two and a glass of wine.

He’s all dressed up in his suit and tie mmm. A live band playing soft jazz in the background. A rose scented candle light on the table. Speaking of roses his man definitely brought you your favorite flowers.

Nanami is a gentleman, he’s the type to take your coat off when you get to the restaurant. Pull your chair out of the way for you to take a seat. Champagne and a beautiful view of the city. This man went all out for you.

I think kento would see the first date as a good way to get to know each other better and make a good impression. Like I said he’s classy for the first date.

“Do you like the view, darling?” Nanami says looking at you with a soft smile on his face. You turned your head away from the sight and looked at him “Yeah, it’s stunning.” “Not as stunning as you, y/n.” You smiled to yourself as you took in what he just said. It was such a romantic moment. The sound of the live band playing in the background was an added detail to the beautiful scenery before your eyes. Everything fits into place. From the smell of his expensive cologne, to the taste of the champagne in our glasses, to the scenery of the city In the distance. Everything in that exact moment felt right.

@luffysvalentine ||||

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x y/n #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #geto x reader #nanami x reader #choso x reader #toji x reader #jjk

235 notes · View notes

cupcakeinat0r · 4 months

Text

Broadway Baby ch.2

Happy New Year, Pookies!!! Here, as a treat<3

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

Summary: The new patron has a thing for you.

Warnings: NSFW, masturbation, mutual pining, and fluff ( a lil more plot building still, sorryyyy <3 )

Tags: sugar daddy AU, Miguel is a lonely+horny Dilf (not for long), reader is latina-coded (written by a Latina), yummy age gap

Word count: 5k

Ch. 1

“She’s very pretty”, “She is, isn’t she?” Miguel responds to his enthused daughter. The whole way home, she went on and on about the show they had just watched, the main item of her praise being you.

Her little voice, filled to the brim with elation, yapping about the way you danced and “how high her legs can go!”, your effortless pirouettes, the effortless vocal olympics, and your convincing storytelling that had Gabriella hanging onto every single word you delivered. Little did Gabriella know that her father was watching with the same amount of revere, only difference is his eyes may or may not have gotten stuck on your sculpted legs and fat ass a few times. His thoughts had strayed in those moments, imagining what great pillows your thighs and juicy derrière would make. He’d rub his stubble as he fantasized about stuffing his face between them, eating your pussy out like a wild animal until his face was covered in your juices. He clenched his jaw trying to dismiss any other lewd thoughts and actually pay attention to the plot of the story.

Once Gabriella was bathed, changed into her unicorn pjs, was read her bedtime story and given her goodnight kiss, Miguel turns the lights out, retiring to his study; a corner of the house that he spent majority of his time in.

It was no question that Miguel felt lonely for the past 4 years, and in these hours late in the night, he felt especially lonesome. As he walked through his two story, million-dollar home toward his study, it was very quiet. It felt cold and empty. Miguel stops and looks around at the living room, hands on his hips, letting out a discontented sigh, the only light coming from the moon through the glass sliding doors leading to the enormous backyard.

It was like this every night for the past 4 years.

He’d pick up Gabriella from either day care or her grandma’s place, feed his child, prepare her for bed, then go to his study to do even more work, his only motivation being to provide for his precious daughter; his entire world and reason for living. Days like these where he was able to take Gabriella out for daddy-daughter dates weren’t as frequent as he wanted them to be. When those days did come, though, that was him driving her all over the city to do whatever her little heart desired. Ice cream. New dolls. The Park. If she named it, she’d have it.

He turned the light of his office on, then plopped down on his leather chair, tired eyes boring into a computer screen. This man had horrible posture. Normally, he’d be able to accomplish a couple of hours worth of work then head to bed, but he’s sat there for like 15 minutes, and hasn’t even done a single thing. His mind was on something else.

He turned from the computer and grabbed his phone sitting next to him. He unlocks it, going to the photo app and pulling up the picture he took about an hour ago.

The photo of you and Gabriella.

His tired eyes faintly lift, his lips curling into a soft smile. Still holding onto the phone, he props his head onto his elbow on the desk, his hand resting against his chin and mouth, staring at you.

Your smile is the first and foremost thing he notices, studying and admiring it. Your soft and full lips carving into the most gorgeous smile, one that he could’ve sat and stared at all night long. The way your eyes sparkled, falling on the camera beautifully.

You just emanated this warm glow that he felt like he needed more of; the very thing the house was lacking.

He then studied your body, remembering the way it looked up close when you had stood from kneeling for Gabriella and thanked him for coming to the show. All the right curves in all the right places. The way your leggings hugged your hips, the crease where the top of your thighs and butt met, resembling an upside down heart. Your thick thighs that looked like they belonged to a goddess. You were a total babe.

An idea flickered in his head.

He sat his phone down, returning to the computer and started typing. Hunched over the keyboard, he typed in your full name, remembering it from the playbill that Gabriella kept showing him before and after the show, clicking ‘search’ and finding all that he could get his hands on.

Mans was down bad. If only he knew you were on the other side of the city thinking of him, in bed, your hand in your panties rubbing your wet clit, breathlessly moaning out ‘daddy’ while replaying the same 2 seconds you had with him in your mind because that’s all you had to cling onto.

He managed to find a ton of stage pictures of you, a few premiere photos, as well as some modeling gigs you did a while back. Mierda, Que hermosa (fuck, how beautiful), he whispers to himself.

He also found a couple of videos of you, too. He immediately clicks on one of them, it being an interview for one of the shows you did last year. You were so adorable. He couldn’t help but fold his arms on the table and rest his head there, watching the video completely smitten by you and your little mannerisms, your accent, and soft giggles. You were so humble and down to earth, yet you demanded respect and exuded power. Fuck, it was hot.

It’s been a minute since Miguel had been back in the dating realm, but he needed to get to know you so badly. Even just a chance with you. He didn’t know you, the only insight to your personality being all the interviews he just binged watched, but he felt like you were just perfect. It was like a thousand hands pushing him toward you.

Adding another tab on his computer, he researched the theater that you were currently working for. He reads that they were looking for a new patron…

Who better than the CEO of Alchemax, right?

Miguel sits back with a smug look in his face, his hands floating to the back of his head as he relishes in his newfound pursuit. The opportunity was too good to pass up. Your theater will definitely be receiving a call in the morning.

Just as he was about to exit out of all his tabs and head to bed, the tab on you made him do a double take. There was a video he missed, one of you doing choreography… the thumbnail showing you in six inch heels and nothing but a sports bra, fishnets, and a thong.

It was a hip-hop heel class you had taken recently in the city. Your friend was the choreographer, and they were always so fun to attend! Miguel clicked on it instantaneously, curious as to what it was. The video starts, and the next thing he knows, all of his blood is rushing toward his cock. You were a little too good at throwing it back, hitting the splits like it was nothing, your long dark hair all tussled and messy. He could feel the crotch of his pants tightening, his breathing becoming labored. You occasionally would stare into the camera with the most seductive glare, his manhood twitching in his pants at the sight. You were mouth-watering. He bit at his bottom lip, hand gradually making its way under the table and mindlessly unbuckling his pants. God, how he wished he would’ve said something back at the theater when you were signing Gabri’s playbill. Maybe he would’ve gotten your number or at least something, then taken you out for the boujiest dinner, send Gabriella to her grandma’s so that he could fuck you dumb in his bed afterward, telling you that you can dance, sing, or act all you want for who ever, but at the end of the day, this pussy was his.

But no. He wussed out and stayed quiet, so now he’s in his study, watching you shake hella ass for the camera, head thrown back, murmuring curse words in Spanish, his thick, angry cock freed from the restraint of his slacks, and his thumb circling his already dripping tip, teasing himself before pumping real slow and trying his very best to replicate how it would’ve felt had it been your plump ass bouncing on his dick instead of his hand.

“Mierda, necesito ese coño tan mala… ah fuck…”

(Need that pussy so badly)

He’d periodically look down at the screen to watch the way your body grinded and jiggled, the slick sound of pre-cum against his calloused hand and his own groans filling the study. His pace on his girthy cock quickened as he got close, the other hand white knuckling his leather chair, and his brows furrowing in pleasure as he got more and more desperate.

“Aw f-fuck, fuck, fuckk-…” he whimpered through gritted teeth as he neared his peak. His hips lazily bucked into his fist once, twice, and three times until he came, strings of come spilling back on his hand, lap, and lower abdomen.

Miguel was a horny man with a capital H. The poor guy hasn’t had sex in 4 years… he has needs. As a matter of fact, this was a nightly thing, this just so happens to be the first time he had a specific person in mind, that person being you.

Yes, he might be the most eligible bachelor in Nueva York (and the richest), but Miguel has his reasons for being single all these years. Like you, Miguel was a picky guy, especially since Gabriella is in his life.

For starters, he didn’t want to rush into any relationship. Moving on from the death of his wife was already hard enough. Then, actually getting a second date after sharing that he had a daughter was almost impossible, so he sort of stopped trying at some point. And most importantly, Miguel wanted someone that was willing to love Gabriella like she was their own. He wanted someone that Gabriella would approve of more than anything, because the last thing he wants is for Gabriella to feel like she has a ‘wicked step-mother’ like the ones she watches in her cartoons. These reasons and a bunch of others were factored into why he hasn’t been in the game, until you, that is.

So far, you seemed to check all of his boxes.

What he wants to know is if he checks all of yours… and he’ll find out soon. He just had to be patient now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Here he stands, on the stage with you, the cast, and your director. He’s just dropped 10k on the house, with two conditions that he:

- Gets a say in casting

- And has access to the theater

In return, the house gains an extremely lucrative patron and a very good business man. It was a win-win deal.

Being a geneticist, he didn’t know the first thing about theater. He’ll deal with that later. The mission at hand was to get your attention.

Whilst your director introduces him to the cast, his eyes travel across the stage and it’s actors, seeking out your beautiful self.

There you are.

Both of your eyes meet, and after smiling back at him, you look away, flustered. He was happy to know he had an effect on you. His eyes traveled down your figure. If this is how you dressed for rehearsals, he wanted to be present for all of them. Still looking down at the floor, bashfully smiling, you can feel your body heating up, an effect of Miguel’s eyes trailing all over you. You feel naked and like your under a magnifying glass.

He quickly had to refocus himself, almost forgetting he was there when he hears the director call his name.

Once Miguel gives his few words, your director sends you all back to rehearse. Miguel takes a seat amongst the ocean of velvet chairs. He can afford to spend an hour or two to observe. He was the CEO of his company, anyways. He was his own boss. He could do whatever he wanted.

Now you were getting nervous. Had you known he’d be sitting in and watching, you would’ve tried a little harder on your outfit and makeup.

You try to disguise your timidity as tunnel-vision focus as you finish stretching for the day, your eyes maintaining an inward gaze. As a little treat, you decide to show off a bit. A small, spontaneous burst of boldness, if you will. You get into your splits, leaning your head back and lifting your back foot, so that they meet in the middle. You do the same for the other side. Next, you hit your middle split, chin on the floor and all. And last but certainly not least, you stand on your feet, and while balancing on one foot, you lift the other so that your knee meets your chest, and extending it into a beautiful leg extension hold.

You do all this and act as if Miguel isn’t right there, practically drooling. It was like you were putting on a little show for him.

You lil minx.

And it succeeds it’s job, too. Seeing how bendable and supple you were, Miguel is literally losing his mind, going rock hard in his pants. Good to know he could bend you into a pretzel as he bullies his cock into your luscious cunt. Thank God he decided to sit a few rows back because surely someone would’ve noticed the tent forming on his thigh.

After finishing your stretch, you stole a quick glance his direction, averting your gaze just as hastily. He had that same cold stare that he had when walking in. He was a bit hard to read, but the hopeless romantic in you wanted to keep trying to get his attention without having to outwardly ask for it. You had hoped that those smiles he had given you last night and this morning were something more than just friendly.

“Alright, guys, gals, n’ everyone in between, let’s take it from Act I, scene 3, please. The blocking for that was iffy last night, I just want to go over it and drill it real quick.”

Just your luck. The starring man of your sexual fantasies shows up to your place of work and the first thing you’re asked to do is your solo. Just great.

He was here last night watching you, you can perform in front of him again. Not that deep.

You’ve literally been performing for almost 7 years now, you should be over that “stage fright” phase by now. At least you thought you did until this fine ass man showed up. Now you were shaking like a leaf. You swallow your doubts down, taking front and center. You can’t see it due to the intensity of the stage lights drowning everything out, but Miguel smirks as he sees you take your place, his crimson eyes not looking at you but looking into you. If it was up to him, the whole show would just be you.

The accompanist starts the song. You take a breath, and you just let go.

Like always, your voice is divine. The vibrato fills the room, your dynamics are bewitching, and your tone provides tranquility. You really were an angel up there. Miguel relaxes in his seat, his face muscles unwinding from how peaceful your voice sounds. He honestly could listen to you all day. He closes his eyes, creating a scenario of you and him in his home. He’s imagining you singing just like this, but with Gabriella in your arms, who is falling asleep peacefully. He smiles at the thought as he takes in your angelic voice. He’s startled by an eruption of applause and hollering. That’ll be your cast mates cheering you on for your performance, meaning your song was over. Miguel begins clapping as well.

“Good girl, y/L/n! As for Soraya, Vincent, and Mira, y’all’s port de bras were still a bit off-“, the director continues giving notes to your other costars as you break from the rest of the group, going on a water break. As you take a sip, you take a look over at Miguel, who happened to also be looking at you at the same time, so you immediately look away.

Go say something, idiota! (Idiot) You yell at yourself in your head. You should! The man has been eyeing you since he walked in here. He won’t you!!!

Stop acting like a child and say hi. You’re literally just gonna say hi. That’s all. Can’t possibly mess that up.

You’re already walking in his direction, rehearsing the different potential opening lines over and over again in your head.

Miguel sees you walking toward him in his peripheral, and he mentally celebrates. To be honest, he had actually planned on coming to you first, but he was just waiting until you weren’t busy with rehearsal. He’d hate to interrupt your work, but with you coming over, he wasn’t gonna protest.

The sooner, the better.

As you near his vicinity, your heart beat quickens. You hated initiating conversation. 99% of the time, you didn’t even know if what you were saying made sense, but you felt like you had to say something, even if it was a simple ‘thank you’ for his generosity toward the show and the house.

He sees you approaching him, offering you a warm smile as he sits back on his seat. You accidentally look down and see the way his jeans strain around his thick thighs and his still very obvious excitement, and Miguel catches this, quickly covering his hard dick by crossing his legs.

Dirty girl. You’re not as innocent as you look.

You immediately look back up and you’re now standing in front of him.

Act like you’re normal, Puta! (Bitch)

You push any and all anxiety downwards in your body and give him a cheesy smile best described as one that customer service workers give. It doesn’t matter that you were terrified of socializing, it’s time to put those acting skills to work and portray the most sociable person possible.

“Hi! Gabriella’s father, right?”

Miguel stands from his seat with a smile, dwarfing you when he does. “Yea, that’s me! Last night, she couldn’t stop talking about the show or about you. You made her night. It was a struggle getting her to fall asleep, actually.” He ends with a chuckle. It was such a simple gesture, but it was one that could’ve made you fold like a beach chair. You chuckle as well, your hands slightly shaking from the possibility of stuttering or stumbling on your words like you normally did when nervous. English wasn’t your first or strongest language.

Which, if you did, Miguel would’ve thought it was incredibly adorable.

“Aw, I’m glad she enjoyed it! As for bedtime, I guess I’ll take the blame, sorry for that!” You finish with a giggle, your voice as sweet as sugar. When talking to someone new, you always had that Disney princess voice. You don’t why, it’s just a habit. Miguel finds it cute, your breathiness and sweetness going straight to his cock, so that’s a plus.

“No, please, no need to apologize, really. Seeing her like that makes me happy. Thank you for that, and… for saying all those things about ‘following her dreams’. You know, I’m always telling her she could be whatever she wants, but it’s different when you hear it from someone else, someone you idolize. It also means a lot to her to see someone who looks like her on the stage, so… thank you for doing that for my daughter.”

He speaks so gently with you, a completely different tone from what he had used earlier this morning when speaking to the cast and director (and at his work, but you didn’t know that). You’re having to listen with even more intention than normal since if you don’t, you might get lost in those kissable lips of his. It was starting to get annoying. How dare he have those plump lips and you can’t kiss’em.

“Awe, oh my goodness, it’s my pleasure. That’s why I do what I do!” You say with a wide smile, which softens when you meet his gaze. You can feel yourself begin to calm down around Miguel.

“Well, now it’s my turn to thank you. I just wanted to let you know how appreciative I am. I know I can speak on behalf of the cast and crew and say that… we’re all extremely thankful of your generosity. It means a lot to us.” You fiddle with you fingers a bit as you speak, your eyes occasionally meeting the mahogany of his gaze before shying away again.

Miguel’s face softens at your gratitude and your evident shyness. Now he’s the one looking down with a giddy smile. His smile alone made your pussy quiver. Something’s meowing down there.

“You’re very welcome. After last night’s performance, I had to get involved. Besides…” he took a step closer, prompting you to look up at him, your smile faltering as your nerves fired up again. He was looking down at you, those broad shoulders practically casting a shadow over you, with that intense glare again, like you were forbidden fruit. You looked nervous with those innocent doe eyes, but on the inside, you’d never been more aroused in your life.

“I had to repay you somehow.” He says with a rather husky tone. You can only achieve a meek smile, your thoughts running with the multiple ways you wanted to be held by this man. With how low and gravel his voice sounded, something within you was unleashed; something that you’ve never experienced before. You could feel a flipping sensation in your stomach. You could’ve sworn your cunt was throbbing. You’ll have to change your thong for sure after this.

“I, um- well- thank you!” Is all you get out. Your mouth felt dry.

Muy bien trabajo, pendeja (Very good work, stupid).

“Well… sorry, I should probably get back to work“, you stutter. “Oh, of course, please, no need to say sorry. I should be the one apologizing for keeping you from rehearsing, sweetie.” He says, his hand grazing your side, making that area of your body tingle. Oh, your knees almost gave out. You had to escape the scene immediately or else you’ll burst right then and there.

You’re almost turning to walk away, giving him a small wave when his hand reaches for it.

“Encantada, y/n (nice to meet you) .” He says, the breath of his voice tickling your hand before planting a soft kiss. He pulls away with a small smack. The way his eyes peer from under his lashes as he holds your hand for a moment is making you melt. He stands straight again so that he could go back to his seat, and you return to the rehearsal.

“Egualmente, Mr. O’Hara.” (Likewise)

You’re gonna need new panties.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the days go by, Miguel starts showing up to rehearsals more and more. The two of you had this unspoken routine; the occasional glances you’d steal of one another, the ‘accidental’ brushing of hands, etc. As a matter of fact, you two have formed a bond, having short conversations here and there during breaks and intermissions. Miguel had become interested in your background, how you got into this industry, what training was like, and sooner or later, he’d start asking more personal questions. Questions like how’d you grow up, what you do outside of theater, etc. You were really glad to be able to connect over being Latin, sharing one another’s experiences that were unique to being Hispanic.

Yes, you were glad, but you were also a bit disappointed. You’d started forming a major crush on the older man, and it didn’t help that every night you came home, you’d lay in bed and fuck yourself with your fingers wishing it was his much thicker ones. If he hasn’t made a move at this point, surely it meant this was all he saw you as. A friend. You were being antsy, though. It’s only been, like, a week since he’s become the patron. You were over thinking again.

Miguel was just as happy to have gotten to know you. With each conversation he had with you, he was just falling deeper and harder. He had you right where he wanted you. It was only a matter of time before he asks you out. His patience was wearing thin, though, as he fucked into his hand each night pretending it was you. He’d call out your name, imagining how tight and warm that cute pussy of yours would be. He often wondered if you tasted as sweet as your personality. His dick leaks with precum just at the thought of it. He just had one more thing up his sleeve…

One afternoon, the show was cancelled due to technical difficulties, so you decided to rehearse in the studio backstage. You were practicing your solo, playing on the piano as you accompany yourself.

Being deep in your own mind, you didn’t realize that someone had walked in on you during the second verse, the tall figure leaning against the door frame as they watch. When you were finished singing your song, you hear clapping that scares the living daylight out of you.

“Oh!” You instantly jump up onto your feet, startled.

“Ay, perdoname (oh, forgive me), I didn’t mean to scare you.” He chuckles with his hands raised in surrender.

You let out a heavy sigh of relief, a small laugh falling from your lips as you do, “oh, it’s alright, don’t worry. I was just practicing.” You say, a shade of pink beginning to form on your cheeks. Miguel walks over to you, leaning on the other side of the piano. He wears a suit and tie, muscles bulging out of his shirt and pants, and his hair neatly slicked back. It takes everything to not reach out and touch them. He’s doing this on purpose. It’s not fair.

“I was dropping off another check to the directors and chatting with them for a bit just now, then I heard the most beautiful sound from backstage as I was leaving, so I had to investigate.” Miguel shoots you a knowing smirk, the ones that always made your knees buckle. You giggled, looking down again as to avert you blush from his gaze. “Oh, you’re just saying that.”

“I’m serious, y/n. You’re extremely talented. I’ve actually been meaning to ask you…”, he rubs the back of his neck.

Oh god, this is it. This is the moment.

“… if you give lessons?”

Wait, what?

“Como?” (What?)

“Well, you’re obviously multitalented and have an extraordinary gift, and I was wondering if maybe you’d give lessons to Gabriella, if you’ll have her?” You only look at him blankly, trying to process his words.

“I’d pay you, of course. Name your price, anything. You would come over and teach her. She’s been dying to learn and I was hoping to give this to her as her birthday present coming up.”

You cleared your throat. This was not what you were expecting.

“I-I don’t really teach… um… H-however,” you looked at Miguel’s eyes, and they were almost pleading you to take this offer. Gabriella seemed like an adorable little girl as well. Before you could finish your response, Miguel adds, “And just to make sure you have time for the lessons, I’ll pay you way more than what the diner is paying you right now, so you could leave that job if you’re comfortable with that.” This offer is sounding even more enticing.

You giggle at his eagerness. “Well, what I was going to say was, it’d be an honor. Gabriella seems like a total angel, and I’d love to teach her.” Miguel smiles warmly at your acceptance. “muchas gracias, y/n. I really appreciate this. Now, let’s talk business-“

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly name a price, I-I would even do it for free-“ Miguel waves his hands at you, brows furrowed, “Absolutely not. I wanna give you what you deserve. Name your price.” You think hard for a moment. You think back to your older friends who’ve been teaching young children for years and what prices they charged. You hated asking people for money. You hesitantly propose a starting price. “Seeeventy?” Miguel raised his eyebrow at this. “Is that for a one hour lesson?” “Claro (of course), I’d be teaching her one hour of piano once a week.” Miguel chuckles at this which confuses you. You’re so cute. So innocent.

“Alright, sweetie, let’s take that seventy and triple it, because I’d like for you to come in three times a week. One for piano. One for dance. One for voice. Let’s call it $600 per week.” Now you were the one chuckling. “Mira (look), I’m no mathematician, but last I checked, seventy times three does not equal 600.” He shrugs. “I might’ve rounded up a bit.” You shot him a concerned and confused look. “Look, sweetheart, I can afford it. Let me give this to you, por favor?” You felt bad. You didn’t want to take advantage of him, but he seemed like he really wanted to give this to you for whatever reason. Maybe since you’ve been a good friend?

“Wow, Mr. O’Hara-“ “Please. Miguel.”

“Well, Miguel, this is extremely generous of you. I-I don’t know what to say.” “Just say you’ll accept.” He says with a soft smile, his hand out for you to shake. You look down at it. You gently reach out, his hand taking yours and it feeling severely small in his. You both shake hands when you almost get lost in each others eyes. His hand feels so warm.

It’d look better around my neck.

You feel his thumb softly rub a circle on your hand. You both kinda wanna stay here, but you end up shying away, clearing your throat, “well, I look forward to coming in…?” “Tomorrow. Are you available tomorrow?” “Sure!” “Awesome. Here, add your number.” He says, giving you his phone. As you excitedly add your number, you both bask in this newfound partnership.

“Great. I should be getting back to the lab now, there’s this important project I should be overseeing.” “Oh, please! Go!,” you say, shooing him away, “Break a leg!” You use theater talk, which Miguel has been getting a hang of. He lets out a small laugh as he leaves. “Gracias, hermosa (thank you, beautiful),” he winks at you.

You blush at the sudden nickname and flirtatious gesture. The way his low, stern voice calls you little pet names creates a pool in your panties. You give him a small wave as you watch him leave. Your eyes never fail to fall on his irresistible tight butt. It should be a crime for a man to look this good.

Miguel leaves the theater feeling like a total champ. Everything is going along just like he hoped they would with you. Now he was gonna see how you were with Gabriella.

Then he’ll make his move.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed!!! I promise, there’ll be toe-curling smut in the next chapter<3 Imma make it up to y’all<3

Hope u liked it. Until the next chapter, mwah <3

Ch. 1

Ch. 3

- Princess<3

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