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honestsycrets · 10 months

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starved | [miguel o'hara x reader]

❛ pairing | new papi!miguel x new mami!reader

❛ type | oneshot: explicit content

❛ summary | peter says he's sex-starved. he isn't. he's just... adjusting to less time with his wife.

❛ tags | breastfeeding miguel, lactation kink, slight pregnancy kink, touch starved, pissy miguel, spanish is not translated, mention of violence, some cursing, f!reader.

❛ sy’s notes | written as per poll request! thank you everyone who voted.

Miguel likes to work.

Or, he thinks he likes to work.

The fate of the multiverse and all that boring ass bullshit. Peter has heard it all, twice, thrice over. What he knows is what he sees. What he sees is an overworked man running through anomaly files, sending out orders, and not spending time where it really mattered.

“Is that who I think it is?” Peter’s annoying ass house slippers flapped over the ground by Miguel’s feet. Peter’s hands rubbed together, sparking little bursts of heat between his palms. “It is! Mireya!”

Mireya, the newest addition to his small family. She was nestled comfortably in the crook of one of Miguel’s muscular arms as if it were the safest place in the entire world, suckling on what was left of a bottle of breastmilk. Miguel turned to place the empty bottle down on his desk. Peter followed, peeping over Miguel’s arm at her. Despite Miguel’s reservations, her bright brown eyes bored Peter with interest. She cooed at him. “Can I hold her? Let me hold her, it’ll be great! Aw look, she has curls.”

“My daughter isn’t your doll.”

“Look how pretty, she’s just like her mami. All sunshine and dimples and--,” Peter reached forward, easing his scrawny hands under her plush little arms and picking her up. Miguel’s hands fell onto his hips, shifting weight from one foot to the other, glancing down at his feet expectantly. “You know, for a new dad, you’re grumpier than usual.”

“Peter.”

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” he bobbed back and forth, spinning in a circle. She giggled the kind of laugh that was all sugar, making Peter grin even harder. “I mean, wasn’t Mireya your idea? Are you-- y’know?”

“Y’know?”

“Sex starved,” Peter whispered like it was a great, terrible secret. As if in this vast space of silence, someone might catch his words and convict him because of them. Miguel’s half-lidded eyes slid against one another, held for a second, then spread open in an annoyed flick. He fluttered his gloved fingers at Peter to hand Mireya over.

“I’m just saying if you need a night alo--”

“I don’t. I’m not sex-starved.”

He waved him off. His eyes fell on his daughter, boring back up at him with those beautiful eyes he had waited so long to see. He shifted his weight from one leg to another, lulling her back into her late-night slumber, cradled against his chest.

Sex starved, he said. What a shocking joke.

His room was no place for a child. It was perpetually dark, dimmed for his sensitive eyes. So, at the end of the day, Miguel had your room to return to. A real home, one with more than a ratty run-down chair and a lifetime of regrets. A home that he couldn't make alone. Miguel pressed past the bedroom door where he found you overcome by sleep. Just like Mireya in his arms.

He turned his gaze down to Mireya once more, her soft and squishy body a vision of peace. Tiny fists balled up over her belly as she slept in her soft velvet onesie. The whole world in his hands: the start of a happy little family. Only right now, it didn’t feel so happy. Those were the cycles, the push and pull of life.

Tonight would prove to be another silent night with his thoughts. His chest swelled with a rush of air, bunching up his shoulders as he moved to the adjoining room to set Mireya into her warm crib. Torn from his warmth, her palms stretched out, ready to wail. Miguel placed his hand along the wooden rail, his stomach flopping into throbbing anxiety in his stomach. She could wake you up. "Shh," he set his finger in her tiny palm. Mireya’s small hands rested listlessly around her head. The wail never came.

“Mi vida,” your sleepy voice fell over his ears, a gentle caress. He longed to hear it from your lips again. “Is she already asleep?”

“Sí--” he glanced over his shoulder, catching just a sight of one of his favourite little slips. Dusty rose with delicate lace details. He studied the edge of the gown, flowing over your thick thighs as you walked. Shock.

“You look beautiful." You looked down at your soft belly, a mincing smile pulling at your lips. He knew you were nervous, the way your hands obscured your plush belly. Mesmerized, his finger fell away from Mireya's soft grip. Peter's words echoed in his mind, a deep annoyance. It made his skin crawl, this growing annoyance in the acknowledgment that he had no sex in weeks, months. He took a step forward.

“I hope she doesn’t sleep through the night. My breasts are full,” Your fingers skimmed the taut skin. The glint of your wedding band invited him forward as if… you should be his tonight. You were his wife-- and though he didn't expect you to give him relief, he missed you. Miguel dipped his head, stroking the sore muscles of his neck.

Are you, y'know, sex-starved?

“When does she ever..." he couldn't help from saying. He grazed his fingertips over the swollen skin of your breasts, glancing from the skin to your deep, shy eyes. His breath thinned, realizing that you were disengaging, too scared to look him in the eye.

“She does, Miggy,” you breathed. His jaw worked, annoyed. “Lately. You’d know if you came home at night.”

If it was lately, he had no knowledge of it. Every lab screen he pulled up, every status report from Lyla, and every silent night in the lab, obsessing over how his little girl was doing-- he missed it. He should be coming in more often, crossing the threshold of work to family life. His hand cupped the underside of your breast. You winced, embarrassment working on your face. You pushed his hand away, likely feeling exposed by his touch on your tender skin.

“Does it hurt?” He leaned down, mingling his smoky, musky scent with your delicate one. He leaned in to place a soft, open-mouthed kiss along your neck, the warm pulse of your skin against his plump lips.

“Miggy, you’ll wake her up.”

Your fingers laced in his before you pulled him out of the room with a click of the door. He settled his hand on the middle of the door, sliding his hand up your waist, the soft fabric crinkling over the movement. He glimpsed a look at your soft panties cupping your round ass. “Miggy, I… I can’t. I’m tired.”

Of course, you were tired-- He underestimated how much work you took on in her care. He willed the wisps of his desire to snuff out. The distant flicker of hope followed promptly after. Maybe, one day, you would want him again. It wasn't today.

“Ya veo,” he suppressed his frustrated growl, wrinkling his forehead. “Another time.”

It wasn't the next day. Or the one after that. Or the one after that.

The anomaly whirled along a cobblestone street, exploding in a cloud of dust and stone. Its many black dipped hands flickered, dulling into little more than a negligible tremor of their limbs. Everyone else noticed the complacency that came with loss of consciousness. Miguel did not.

Miguel sauntered forward, dragged it by its muddy boots out from the crumbly remnants of the wall, and whirled it into another. It wasn't moving. It was done, tired, exhausted. He didn't care, his large hand encompassing its tendril hair and smashing it over the dusty floor. A violent crack, crack, crack of its head scratched his inert need to destroy something, anything, anyone. It fell from his hands with a slump. Miguel spat a bit of blood to the side, his cheek chewed raw under the tension of the moment.

“You need to take Peter up on that offer.”

Miguel stretched his neck one way. Then the other.

“We’ve been over this,” Miguel grumbled, hiking the pummeled body over his shoulder. It gushed blood, streaming into a diluted pink with the downpour of rain. A simple contusion, Miguel said. It was just a contusion. And a concussion. Maybe a gash or two. It would heal if the thing woke up. “I don’t need help.”

“You thrashed it, whatever it was,” Jess said pointedly. Miguel’s finger ran across his watch. The air was stale without an acknowledgment of Miguel’s churning temper, growing into a churning tempest by the passing minute. He stared long and hard through his mask. She drew out the silence as she waited for his response.

“It’s a contusion.”

The portal whirled to life before them in a slurry of vivid color, an unforgiving abyss. Jess slumped her bike with weight on one thigh, hand on her belly. The longer Miguel stared at her, so full and pregnant, the more he was reminded of you. He pinched the bridge of his nose. There was no use-- he saw visages of you everywhere he looked.

“Doesn’t look like any head contusion I’ve seen,” Gwen slid into the portal. His lip curled, annoyed by the obvious objection to what he was saying. If they would let it go-- he could go on about his life, wait for this obsession with his sex life to abate. Wait for you to come back to him.

“You can’t keep taking out your—“

“I am not sex-starved!”

“Convincing.” Jess sped into the portal.

Miguel soothed the stress out of his forehead, opening and closing his palm, a current of energy coursing through his palms. They picked— and they picked— and they picked at him. At some point, he was bound to explode. He only hoped you wouldn't be in his way when it happened. He whipped the anomaly through the portal and followed after.

On the other side of the portal, there was Peter— again. Cooing with his hands on his daughter— again. His dark mask faded away, his suit wicking water off his frame. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he located you beside Jess and Gwen. You nudged its crumpled body with your shoe. He didn’t often feel ashamed of his actions. Usually, they were necessary. Something was wrong, your face pinched and curled in disgust. He felt the string of your disapproval pulling through his arms, a slight, incriminating tremor flickering through his finger. He willed it away.

“What did you do to this poor thing?” you turned to Jess, a click-click-click off your tongue. He’d hardly call it poor. “It’s overkill.”

“Girl, ask your husband,” Jess folded her arms, reclining on her bike.

“Mi Miggy?” you went to him. You leaned over, pecking his cheek with a terribly insulting kiss, tickling his jawline. He swallowed. Blinked. Then frowned and brushed off your fingers, finding the care misplaced. You could care for an anomaly but didn't care to ask him how he felt. What he needed. Your voice wilted that sunshine quality, dropping almost to a whisper. “¿Qué te pasa, Miggy?”

“Nothing.”

“Miguel--"

“I said nothing!” He knelt down, grasping its ankle and dragging it down the long, drab hall that stored a variety of anomalies. A line of blood soaked the floor, swerving after his rumbling steps. You took a step forward, snatching his wrist between your fingers. He whirled around, a tremble on his lips firmed out into an unforgiving glare. You let up the pressure on his wrist, allowing him to spin his hand free. “Déjame en paz! There is nothing shocking wrong!”

Mireya cried. So did you.

The admittance that Peter was right wasn’t one that Miguel was about to make openly.

Although he showed up that night, as you informally requested, the night proceeded awkwardly. There was no talk over dinner, not as he watched you feed his little girl, swaying by the window of the enormous city below. As you gazed into the sea of twinkling lights, Miguel came up behind you. His palms encompassed your slight shoulders, moist against your exposed shoulders. His naked chest grazed your back.

"Are you going to apologize?"

Why should he have to? If anyone listened to what he was saying-- he wouldn't be in this mess. Still, Miguel steeled his face. He placed a mincing kiss on the top of your head. His voice thinned out, barely a feather on his lips.

"I snapped."

"You did a lot more than that. You scared her."

You let him sit with his regret until you fell asleep. He debated returning to the lab or his room to try again tomorrow. But he knew his wife. You were attentive to everything that he did. You might take it as a sign of his disinterest. After minutes turned to hours, he breached the door and slid into your bed when he was sure you were asleep.

When his eyes coursed over your figure, he realized all he missed. It was too long since he felt the warmth of a real kiss. Not the brief pecks on his lips as he rushed out the door to help Jess or Gwen or any other number of spiders demanding his attention. He missed the warmth in your eyes, the way they turn into crescents with a happy smile or jaunty laugh. He longed for that sensation of your fingers combing through his hair, taking your time and curling his fluffy hair behind his ear, eyes trained on his alone in a sea of spiders. That… sensation of being the only one that you wanted.

Mireya was that for you now. He longed for it every time he came into the room, seeing you sway with his child in your arms, cradled against your breast, feeding her into a restful sleep. What he thought was a mere seed of jealousy turned out to be a terrible beast, tendrils of resentment that you can’t see what he needs. He needs you. And it isn’t his beautiful Mireya’s fault, no. It’s his.

Instead, he lay there with his palm wretched around his cock, soaked in the artificial lubricant, throbbing into his hand. He remembered his words that night. A begrudging -- Mami, give me a baby-- and how well you took him. Your body seemed to know what he wanted, swelling with his child after a few weeks. He buckled into his palm, cranking around the base and swirling up to his leaking tip, bubbling with his need. He circled his finger over the head, swiping the fluid away.

“What are you thinking about?”

Miguel paused, sweat crept down his thick throat over his broad chest. He shuddered under the weight of your silken words. His hand coiled around his cock in one more jerk, somehow accepting that he had been caught.

“Are you thinking about me? Or is there someone else?”

"Someone else?" he breathed. His lips dropped into a frown, agitation simmering to a boil. It cooled when you looked at him-- but really looked at him. The bed shifted under your weight, ruffling pillows aside. You hoisted your legs over his body, pushing his cock against your soft vulva and his stomach, breasts pushing into his face. So close that Miguel inhaled the uniquely sweet smell of your milk obscured by thin lace.

“Why would I have anyone else?” he asked, his chest distantly aching. His gaze tracked from one breast to the other. He stole a glimpse at your face, stricken with shyness. The slight pout of your lips, eyes refusing contact. “Do you even want me?”

Undoubtedly yes.

“You don’t come to see me. You don't fuck me. You don't even--"

"You're always tired."

"But you could wake me.”

“Could I? To deny me again?” It hadn’t meant to come out so passive-aggressive, but with the natural inflections in his voice, he knew you could read him like a book.

“Oh, papi," not that soft voice. He might hope again. "I always want you.“

Hmpf. Debatable.

“Even when you’re jerking off in my bed. Or couch.” You slid your pink tongue along your lower lip, guiding your body against his. The wet draw of your juices over his dick drew his sharp scarlet eyes to the sight, knocking your stiff clit with his dick. For a moment, his words failed. He should have known you would watch him.

“Is that why you're so... angry? Because of me?" He made a small noise, barely a huff. You drew his hands to your full breasts, obscured by a thin layer of fabric. This time, he smothered a groan in his chest. How pathetic, he thought, to be moaning from something as simple as your firm breasts back in his hands. What was he-- twelve? "Have I been neglecting you, Miguel O’Hara?”

“Yes-- you've neglected me,” he murmured, dragging the lace underneath each breast, knocked together by the straps of the fabric. He melded your breasts again between his hands, massaging the sore skin. His thumps flickered over your nipples, stiffening them into peaks. With a small pinch to your breasts, milk dribbled over his fingertips.

"I won't do it again," he wondered if you missed his touch by the full, grateful hum of your lips, your palms disappearing into his dark hair. You coursed along his dick again, eliciting another piteous noise of longing from his throat. "I promise."

“Hm," was the only agreement. "What a mess,” he teased, not bothering to look at you. It had the desired effect, your shoulders shyly bunching up, the cute pout of your lips, warmth in your cheeks, quivering eyes. He loved it when you looked so fucking shy, so vulnerable, and all for him. "You're leaking all over my hand."

“I’m-- sorry,” you flushed, “It… happens.”

“Mhm, you're full,” Miguel flicked his pink tongue along your stiff, fat nipple, drawing it into his mouth with a suckle. Sweet milk soothed his tongue. He hungrily drank it up, shifting his other hand back to angle his cock at the entrance of your core. A hand left his thick locks and jerked to his broad shoulder, stabilizing your hips down to sink onto him. Blood welled to the surface with your claws scratching piteously along his sunkissed skin. With a bit of resistance, he slid perfectly into your body, just like he always did. A satisfied sigh escaped his lips against your breast. It was somehow different-- the tug and stretch of his cock-- as he fucked the mother of his child. Maybe it was all in his head. “Shock, you’re gorgeous on my dick.”

“Miggy--”

He shifted to the other breast, his hands nearly stapled on your hips, encouraging you to do the work. Your warm milk slid into his mouth, down his starved throat. The pleasure of knowing he was draining you of your milk was tempered with the ever-present fact that soon, you’d have his spunk in your belly again. Your hips flushed, drawing around in quick circles, flushed with his pelvis. Small waves of pleasure grew in your belly. Your stiff clit glided against his skin, again, and again with the undulations of his hips. You felt pinned between his mouth and dick, restricted in movement, but all his, devoured by his need.

“Come here, mi hermosura,” Miguel released your breast from those lush lips, sliding his tongue along his lips to catch the remnants of your sweet milk. He slid down along the pillows, flushing your chest to his, and propped his legs slightly for a better angle. His muscular arms wound around your back, cock pumping into you with renewed vigor. He knocked against your cervix in this position, holding you fast and tight in his arms. You nestled against his sweaty chest, accepting his thrusts so well.

“Miggy-- I’m not-- on anything.”

“You're breastfeeding, close enough,” he mused in your ear as though it were a joke.

You might have argued with him if you weren’t so blinded by that fantastic juddering of his hips. As it were, pleasure rocked all thoughts of birth control out of your mind. Miggy, an ever-present lover, groaned as he held out through your orgasm milking and soaking his swollen dick in your cum. Not a moment later, Miguel forced a long stroke of his dick inside your cunt, reaching his climax buried deep in your tremoring walls. You squeezed him tight, milking him dry of his orgasm until it all faded into fuzzy pleasure. You sighed as his arms loosened, warm and full of Miguel after so long. His soft dick slipped free, cum oozing onto his thighs, but he couldn’t be bothered to deal with the mess.

He set a kiss on the top of your head, then your forehead, and eventually snatched your lips in a warm kiss. You could taste the sweetness of your milk on his tongue and flushed. Your head dropped down on his chest, listening for the gentle whining of your daughter. It was silent but for the intermingling of your heaving breaths.

After all the issues: the disappointment, the fighting with Peter and Jess, Miguel couldn’t help but chuckle. All it took was jerking off in your bed. He should have known-- you never did like to be left out on his fun. You were always a jealous lover, even at the threat of his own hand.

“Hm? Why are you laughing?”

“Peter said I was sex-starved."

“Well," you glistened a smile, kissing along his jaw. He huffed. "He wasn't wrong."

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katsukiizmoon · 7 months

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╰┈➤ ꒰🕸🍒 ┊IN THE CAR WASH | Katsuki Bakugou꒱

『♡』 18+, F!reader, handjob, blowjob, mild overstimulation, cum eating, established relationship, you put a finger in his ass 『♡』 aaah this was supposed to be a drabble in tumblr mobile but ended up being a little under 2k. Happy kinktober lmao. -> I was listening to this

The car vibrates, music playing low in the background. Your hand under his as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. You hum and chew your bottom lip. Cool air blasts through the AC and onto you, he makes a turn and slows down to stop for a red light.

You hit skip on a song and Katsuki frowns a little, turning his head to the side and sticking his tongue out at you. Studs in his ears glisten and his skin glows with the presence of the sunlight.The cycle has a while to go with another two sides set to turn green before yours. A thick hand squeezes your palm as the large man to your left taps his foot to the beat. His lips move slightly as he mimics the words near silently, merely hushed.

Taking in the image in front of you, you sigh. The black compression shirt highlights every muscle he has. Perked nipples press against the fabric as if they’re begging to be put on display. Your eyes trail down his body for a moment, tongue flicking out to wet pretty lips. Something thick like honey starts to settle in your veins and slowly it begins to cloud your thoughts.

You bring his hand up to your lips, kissing the back of it and setting it down near the gear shift. He doesn’t pay any mind to it, too preoccupied with watching traffic and listening to music. Nimble fingers slowly reach toward his thigh to slide over the fabric there.

Katsuki’s tapping stops. His mind halts momentarily, carmine eyes glancing down, before he taps to the rhythm again. A horn blares in the distance and the AC is no match for the way his body is beginning to heat. The faint smell of caramel seeps into your senses and sets you on fire. It makes you bold, whispers little things to you.

But Katsuki? His mind races and goes over every possibility on the planet of what you have planned. It settles on something innocent. You’re just wanting to rest your hand there, he thinks.

He is wrong.

Your fingers trail little circles over dark fabric in repetition, while moving closer to his inner thigh. The music changes and you feel the need to wet your lips again. Katsuki begins to get cotton mouth but he swallows spit down to soothe it.

Don’t blame me, love made me crazy, if it doesn’t you ain’t doing it right.

Katsuki thanks his lucky stars that the light turns green with a fuzzy mind. The bottom of his shoe presses on the pedal and the car begins to speed up. He tries not to think too much about your movements. But he his only a man, who’s slowly being put into a trance.

Lord save me, my drug is my baby. I’ll be using for the rest of my life.

He swallows again and presses a button on the steering wheel, murmuring lowly to the slowed down song. The blonde beside you seems to be unaffected in your eyes. That just won’t do. He feels your fingers move upwards toward his clothed cock that’s beginning to chub in his pants and lets out a deep sigh. It goes on like that for a while, you brush your palm over him a couple times and feign innocence. And he just keeps driving, seeming unaffected despite your best efforts.

You glance over at him, his jaw is set and eyes narrow. Tension makes the air thick like the hardening length beneath his belt. You look back at the road, then lean to the side and begin unbuckling his belt. That makes him freeze. His body feels like it’s on fire.

God knows he’s at your mercy. Forced to drive while you’re toying with him, playing him like a fucking fiddle. He doesn’t even remember where he’s supposed to be going anymore, at some point he just kept driving without thinking. He lets out a slow breath to settle himself when you unzip his pants.

“Babe.” Katsuki grits, only to hear an innocent hmm? Sound in return.

He’s going to start leaking soon, cock straining against his boxers. And your start palming lightly at it like the little minx you are. He spots a massive car wash that appears vacant out of the corner of his eye and flicks on the blinker.

Your hand’s started rubbing and palming at him through his boxers. The head of his cock smears precum on the inside of them, body covered in a thin sheen of sweat. His hand shakes while turning the AC on full blast, desperate for something to cool him off. Glancing at the mirror, he merges over a few lanes and turns into the car wash.

When the car pulls in, you remove your hand and blink a little. Katsuki wordlessly grabs his wallet from the center console and shoves his card in, picking the most expensive and extensive wash he can.

“I thought we were going home..” Your brows furrow, looking around a little.

“Nope.” He pops the “p” and pulls in before putting the car in park and unbuckling his seat belt. His seat slides back a little to give him some leg room. Large sprayers begin to cover the car in foam and soap. The loud scrubbers going to work.

Katsuki tugs at the waistband of his boxers, setting his cock free. It springs up toward his tummy while slick substance dribbles from the tip of it. He gives it a little stroke as his head falls back, teeth digging into his plush bottom lip. His eyes are half lidded when he looks at you and grunts.

“Get the fuck over here and suck.” He reaches a hand under the side of his seat and leans the seat back a little more. You nod and unbuckle the seatbelt.

Your fingers wrap around him and stroke in a wringing motion. His cock twitches in your hand and he pants. Heat spreads all over both of your bodies and the car wash is so loud you can only hear eachother. His breaths come out in short pants like he’s catching it.

“Fuck, yeah, like that pretty.” His tanned jaw drops a little when your tongue lays flat against the head.

You lap at the precum like it’s your favorite thing on the earth to taste. His fingers thread through your hair, tugging at the roots and pushing your head down. Katsuki resists every urge to buck up into your mouth the best he can despite the coil tightly winding in his tummy. But you’re doing so good.

Sucking him like a champ, slurping and making a mess. Spit dribbles down toward his balls but soaks into the waistband of his boxers. And then you’re sinking down and humming, hand reaching down. He grabs at the side of the car door and braces himself. He can’t keep quiet, letting out long strings of groans and moans. The praise makes your pussy soak through your panties and you think about rubbing your clit for relief.

“God, take it. Suck my cock, yeah, yeah, shit.”

That’s all it takes to spur you on. You press a finger near his taint and watch his face scrunch. The car smells like his sweat and those stupid air refresher clips in the vents, leather seats becoming slippery from your fun. Your lips pop off him wetly and you look up to him with such pretty, doey eyes, that he almost cums then. His forearm veins peek out to play as the car door gets squeezed in a death grip. Your lips wrap around the head of his cock and you suck. Hard. Simultaneously you press the finger past the ring of muscle and up to a knuckle. Your hand strokes what you can’t fit in your mouth, trying to focus.

And just like that the band snaps. Euphoria wracks his body and he fucks up into your mouth, head thrown back as he sings expletives and spills. It seeps from your lips, despite you trying to swallow it all down, but you use a tongue to swipe it up.

“Oh god, god-” He whimpers out while riding out the high.

Katsuki feels like his entire body is strung high for a moment. His chest heaves and his fingers shake when you pull your mouth off him and give him a quick kiss.Your pussy is soaked and your clit throbs like it has a heartbeat of it own. Sweat has built at the back of his neck and his nipples stay perked. You glance at the lights in the carwash and see there’s still four other things left. Something about scent and bug shield— you don’t know, there’s suds of different colors all over the windows.

You swipe a thumb over his nipple while keeping a finger still in his ass. He whimpers at that and presses his lips into a thin line, gripping your arm so hard it might bruise if he squeezes any tighter. But you persist and stroke his cock with fever.

“I can’t, oh, god baby I can’t it’s-” Katsuki whines out and shakes. His voice goes up in pitch for a moment while desperately trying to hang on to his sanity. You tighten your fingers around him and start pressing the finger inside him upwards.

His body spasms then goes completely still. Katsuki’s entire body is tight on a string, the only thing keeping him on this god forsaken earth being your pretty hands. Heaven wraps him up in a blanket and makes his chest wrack. Carmine eyes roll back, the hand that was once gripping your forearm now dragging nails down it. Your pussy clenches around nothing and the breath is knocked out of you in awe.

Hot white ropes spill all over your hand. You quickly move the finger out of his asshole and instead use it to anchor you on the seat while you suck the cum off of his cock. It twitches in your hand and mouth with sensitivity. You’re addicted to him, is reactions, his cum— like they’re a drug.

Lust clouds your mind heavier than it possibly ever has when you look into his half lidded eyes. He’s swallowing your pretty little soul whole and making it a home, making it his. Cum dribbles off the corner of your lip and Katsuki leans forward to lick it off for you.

His breathing slows and he tosses his head back with a breathy laugh. The car begins to be rinsed and you reach into the console for emergency wipes and toss one on his softening member. He cleans up with a wince and wipes some from your neck while you focus on your hands getting clean.

“We should come here more.” Katsuki suggests wit a cheeky grin, brow raised and pants now buttoned again.

“Absolutely. For now.. Let’s get home before I make you pay for another round and eat me out.” You buckle your seatbelt and roll your eyes with a snicker.

You look at him with a fire in your eyes and puffy lips. You grab his hand and kiss his knuckles again, this time linking your fingers together before he pulls out of the car wash and heads home.

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lure-of-writing · 2 months

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Kick your ass

Note: Hi everybody long time no see! I would assume that is doesn't come as a surprise when I say being a flight attendant leaves no room for writing much less doing anything else but sleeping but here we are after what I'm sure can be counted as forever. Anyways I feel like this story is when your partner just isn't getting it right and it's driving you crazy and you get a little ( or a lot) sassy. I'm so happy to have finally written something in so long and I hope you love it!

Word count-2.3K

Warnings- none unless you count cussing

Summary: Lately all your mate does is piss you off. And don't get it wrong you love him but you are more than ready to kick his ass.

You love Azriel with all of your heart, your whole being if you're being completely honest but lately he has done nothing but piss you off. It first started with him going on a mission during the middle of your cycle. Since the moment you knew Azirel was your mate you gave clear explicit instructions that Azriel was to be no more than five feet away from you during that time of the year unless it was for something of the utmost importance and could not be handled by anyone else. Imagine your surprise when he started grabbing his leather clothing after he had made you breakfast and had gotten you comfortable in your bed that could fit three grown Illyrian men.

“And just where do you think you're going?” Azriel could feel like distaste dripping off of your words and hitting him in the back as he was faced away from you. It was no secret that Azriel loved you more than life itself and would do absolutely anything to keep you safe and happy but when you were on your period you could be a handful and more often than not you tested his never ending patience until you actually found the end of its supply. With a slow release of his breath he turns around to find you perched on the edge of the bed throwing an angry glare in his direction. “Listen baby” the shadowsinger slowly approached you like you were a wild animal ready to strike at any moment and honestly that comparison isn’t too far off with the way you look like you're ready to rip his head off of his shoulders. “You know I wouldn’t go unless I had to, yeah?” he kneels before you gently rubbing comforting circles on your bare thigh while giving you a soft smile reserved for only you. “Is the information you retrieve from this mission of that great value?” he watched as you paused waiting for the answer that both he and you already knew. “Is there no one else beneath you who could do it instead?” And while yes there were people beneath him that could handle this task, Azriel is a perfectionist and would like to make sure things get done right. “Is it so important that you must leave your mate during their cycle knowing the excruciating pain I endure? It's so important you must put this before your mate?”

Azriel knew this conversation was a losing battle on his end but he also knew if he would like to be able to sleep next to you tonight that he must offer something to make up for it. “No my love, there isn’t anyone else who can handle this as they are all busy at the moment but don’t worry I will be back before dinner.” Even as you glowered down at him all the shadowsinger could think about was two things. One, he is definitely in trouble and two, how stunning you look. “I don’t care if no one else can do it, get that brute of your brother to handle it.” You waved your hand in a dismissive way as if to send Cassian on this mission yourself and Azriel couldn’t help but lay his head on your legs and laugh and your attitude.

The next time Azriel made you mad was during a family dinner with the inner circle. At first with all the new people, family dinners were a little awkward and unbearable mostly due to Cassians pinning over Nesta and her constant blatant rejection but also because of the middle sister's fascination with your mate. Did she know he was your mate? Yes. Did that stop her from having a crush? Absolutely not.

As you were getting ready to head down to Feyres and Rhysands new house you had made it clear he needed to put his foot down and tell Elain he was not and would never be interested in a relationship with her otherwise you would handle it yourself and Azriel knew that meant you would become your own nasiter version of Nesta and you would tear her down until she couldn’t even look you in the eyes. It may not be the best way to handle her crush but until Azriel when it came to dealing with people who had a crush on him you tended to leave your manners at the door.

Everything was going well at the river house until you walked into the dinning room with Amren and spot your mate seated next to Elain on one side and Mor on the other side. The whole group could feel the shift in the temperature as it dropped and you gave a cold and pointed stare to your mate. Possessing the same powers as Rhysand you barged into his mind “What the hell is this?” without responding he gently shakes his head in a not right here manner and pleading with his eye for you to just let this go. Silently you take your seat across the table from him and sit next to your high lady and Amren. For the rest of the dinner you say nothing as your pin Azriel to his seat as your seething anger radiates off of you and hits him like a tidal wave over and over again never once giving him a break.

“Y/n” Azriel had waited until after you had taken your bath and done your fifteen step skin and body care route and had gotten into bed with your current book you picked to read before approaching you. He gently sat down on the bed next to your legs and hopped you don;t make him sleep on the couch tonight. “I know you're upset with what happened at dinner but it just happened one minute I was talking with Mor and the next Elain was ushering us all in to eat dinner and she just happened to sit next to me.” As he gave his explanation of the night's events you had closed your book and laid it in your lap and nodded silently in understanding waiting for your mate to be done talking. “Is that so?” you asked in a thoughtful way. Now Azriel has been with you long enough to know that tone of voice and that statement should strike the fear of every god into him and it definitely did. “Yes, I promise that's what happened.” Once again you nodded in understanding before tilting your head to the side with a confused look on your face. “So if that's all that happened then why would Elain feel comfortable sitting next to you knowing that you have a mate who cannot stand her crush on you? And didn’t I tell you to make sure Elain knew in no uncertain terms that her fantasy of having a relationship with you was nothing more than a fantasy and if she tried I would kill her?” Azriels heart dropped to his stomach as he listened to you talk, he had known that there was something he needed to do but as soon as he entered the house Cassian gave him a cup of a mysterious alcohol and Rhysand had beckoned him over to fill him in on the status of a mission one of his spies were on. And before he knew it Morrgian had whisked him away to talk about her journey on the continent and the information she had obtained while there and the next thing he knew he was sat between the girl he used to have a crush on and the girl who currently has a crush on him. Candidly he knew he was fucked.

“Let's go with your version of events like you said they happened shall we? I am going to assume you got too busy with everyone to tell Elain to knock off her childish behavior, which you would have done in a much nicer way because you are you. Then why didn’t you say anything to her when I walked in or better yet why didn’t you get up to sit next to me instead?” As a professional interrogator your mate knew you had just walked him into a trap and for a split second he wondered why you didn’t have his job instead. “Baby you know both of those options would have been rude and probably would have ruined the dinner.” Nodding in fake understanding you inspect your nails giving it a brief second before responding “And you are the shadowsinger of the night court. One of the most feared males in Prythian and you couldn’t muster up the courage to say something to Elain? How ironic is that.” You scoffed and shook your head in a surprised manner and needless to say he ended up sleeping on the couch that night.

The last straw was watching Azriel train the valkyries and watching them not so subtly drool over your mate. You wouldn’t be one to blame them if they had done so in a respectful way but they were bluntly flirting with your mate right in front of you. One thing you loved about Azriel was how secure he was in your relationship. No one could make him look in the direction that wasn’t you, if someone was trying to flirt with him he didn’t register it unless it was you. And normally you wouldn’t have a problem with that except three girls were currently trying to make a pass at him and he had no reaction. Most would take that in a positive way but not you, you wanted him to shut that down the second it started and make a clear line in the sand on what was expected from the student-teacher relationship amongst him and the Valkyries he was training. “Azriel!” You had barely shouted his name from across the training platform on the house of wind but it felt as if you had. He turned around to see you leaned against the wall with your arms crossed over your chest and face set in a scowl while glaring at him. Turing to look at the trainees before him he instructs them on what to do next before quickly making his way to you. “Yes my love?” he asks in such a hushed and concerned tone that you almost forget what you called him over to yell at him about, but over his shoulder you see one of the girls check him out and suddenly you remembered all over again what it was that you needed to speak to him about. “You need to tell your students to stop checking you out and to close their mouths before they start drooling all over themselves.” Your mate's face scrunched in confusion. Azriel may be an excellent observer but when it came to himself not so much. He couldn’t see his own beauty that was hand crafted from the gods themselves, he couldn;t see how his quiet and standoffish personality drew people in, he couldn't see all of the things that you loved about him could all be the reason that other people lust after him.

His shadows gave him a play by play of what his students had been doing while he wasn’t focused on each person in particular and how you had been brewing in your anger in the corner by yourself. As soon as you put on your fighting leathers this morning Azriel knew he was doomed as it was your ritual to fight each other everyday during training but seeing you in the corner pissed that other people had been checking him out brought his demise to a whole nother level. Azriel subtly glanced down at where your arms were crossed over your chest and he thanked the gods for your outfit. “You sound a little upset, my love.” Once more you send him one of your signature pointed looks “Yeah you would be upset also if the roles were reversed.” He shrugs slightly while tilting his head and wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer to his body. “You’re not wrong I would be upset because nobody gets to look at you that way unless it's me.” He pulls you even closer to his body until you’re chest to chest with him and he bends down to whisper in your ear. “Beat me in a match and I will make sure they know I’m no one else's but yours. I'll let you claim me anyway you want, hell I’ll even let you do it in front of them if that will make you feel better.” Both you and Azriel knew the game he was playing at but neither of you cared, well him less than you. You pulled away slightly to look up at your mate and see the smirk resting upon his very kissable looking lips “Sounds like a deal to me because I’ve been wanting to kick your ass all week.”

The shadowsinger followed behind you with a laugh and he shook his head in amusement while taking in your figure from behind. He watched as you got into your fighting stance and waited for him to do the same. He held his hand up to signal you to give him a moment. Turning around to look at the Valkyries in training he gathered their attention without saying a word. “I think it's about time to see what the last remaining real valkyrie looks light during a fight and maybe then you can aspire to be a fraction of as good as my beautiful mate is.” He turned back around to see you glowing with confidence, determination and love, but also the want to make sure you won his bet. Gods he knew this was going to lead to some great sex after you kicked his ass and he couldn’t be looking forward to it more.

#acotar imagine #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel imagine #azriel one shot #azriel shadowsinger

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suraemoon · 26 days

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Rosie Rosenthal Headcanons

~Mr. and Mrs. Rosenthal Edition ~

🌹: Hi, Mrs. Rosenthal. Hope you’re doing well. How’s the hubby? These are some Rosie x Reader cute and domestic headcanons that cover some tiny details that make married life even more special

♥️: Fluffy fluff. If you’re feeling horny, stay to the end and I’ll help you, doll. Thats really it. Hope u enjoy.

Humming. He hums softly during the most comfortable silences, making them even more cozy. You could be reading a book on a quiet May afternoon, watching him work at his desk on a cold January night, holding hands while watching the August sunset from your balcony.

Whenever you’re singing a tune, he’s going to hum along with you

Can’t remember the name of that one Ella Fitzgerald song for the life of you? Hum it together until a namesake lyric pops into one of your brilliant minds. Followed by a “Ohhhh, you’re right. It is that one!”

A comfortable hum during the times when you’re crying on his shoulder, his hand rubbing your back in small circles, your cheek against the fabric of his grandpa sweater

Rosie’s blue eyes have always been one of your favorite features of his.

They are as vibrant as technicolor, always displaying so much emotion.

Looking into Rosie’s eyes is a constant reminder that as long as you have him, life will never again be sepia toned.

Rosie spoils you in the most nonchalant ways. Buying his wife a gift is never made into its own big event.

He notices how you eye a certain sparkling necklace while walking hand in hand by the jewelry store window? The next day, those same diamonds are lying on your vanity, waiting to be worn.

For some reason the flowers in the vase on the dining room table never seem to die? Hmm I wonder why.

Little do you know, those roses were replaced with fresh ones last night

Rosie buys beautiful bouquets of flowers as pink as his wife’s cheeks on a chilly day

Hides them in places you’d never look until the sun goes down to rest for the night and you are securely fast asleep next to him

As soft light floods through the windows in the morning, the glass of the vase creates a rainbow and the flowers sitting delicately on display look new as ever

Another small detail that your home would like an incomplete puzzle without?

Him and Hers plaid robes hang gently on delicate hooks behind the bathroom door

Technically, both robes were bought and owned by Rosie before he even met you

But they’re so damn comfy that they’ve become happily coparented between the two of you

Whenever your choice of robe starts to lose the distinct and comforting scent of your beloved husband, the two of you switch in order to replenish

A constant cycle of robe wearing

The record player is the most used and well loved item in the household

Soft jazz fills warmly lit rooms

Not much of a dancer are you? Rosie insists that the two of you slow dance to his favorite love song anyway

Don’t worry, it is not a game of skill. Maybe he hits a silly dance move now and then to distract you from the worry of accidentally stepping on his feet.

He spins you around like Prince Charming does Cinderella until both the rotating and romance makes you a little lightheaded.

He also loves a good candle. (Don’t we all?)

Not only for when he is trying to set the right mood for homemade dates at the kitchen table and nights full of lovemaking in your bedroom

but also to further enhance the warm and comforting atmosphere that fills any room that his love steps into

Cuddling in eachother’s warmth where the cold evening air of the bustling city outside cannot touch you

What else sometimes happens while you two lying in bed on a weeknight? Gossip.

It’s a safe space to talk about anyone or anything

When your little ones start school and the two of you join the PTA, the reason being not because you want to but instead having the “new parent” fear you were the only ones not in it. Do you regret it? No. The tea is unexpectedly piping hot.

“Remember how late we stayed up making those cookies after finding that bake sale flier at the bottom of her bookbag? Today, the Joneses went on and on about how they had a family recipe. Guess what?…their brownie container had a price tag, Rosie.”

Maybe a family member said something utterly ridiculous at the family reunion that you aren’t able to talk about until you’re in the comfort of your own walls

Something that even has Rosie uttering “Now if I was his wife…” or “I don’t know about his mother but if my mother caught me doing that…”

A lot of “I can’t believe that happened” head shakes

A lot of “You were right about that, honey” nods in agreement

Rosie also takes the time to tell you about his cases. Him and his co-workers always act so professional but sometimes you need an outside opinion to confirm how ridiculous some people are.

That outside opinion is Mrs. Rosenthal sitting on the bed stirring a cup of cocoa

Speaking of drinks, Rosie likes his coffee black

You learn that the morning after you spend your first night at his

What else do you learn after that riveting first night? Your man fancies a bath. A warm bath after sex is only part of his phenomenal aftercare routine.

He puts oils into the water, massages your sore thighs, and wraps you in a comfy soft robe when you get out

You two don’t argue often but when you do? You hate to admit it but Rosie is usually right

Even when he isn’t right, he has you second guessing yourself because…he’s a lawyer and being a good arguer is part of the job description

He’s a “I need to get the last word in” kind of person, even if it’s just a snarky or sarcastic comment

You two always make up though!

Make up, makeout, and make love is always the order

My last thot for today…dad jokes

If Rosie is going to do one thing, it’s make you laugh

He’s goes out of his way to see your pretty smile as much as he can

Your sweet giggles can easily compete and win against the sparkling sound of wind chimes

Your laugh is as melodic as his favorite song. It *is* his favorite song.

He’s so good at dad jokes, you have to make him a father. That’s good logic, hm? I definitely think so.

They’re purposefully bad and cheesy. So unfunny that they’re funny and trying to hold in the laugh always fails.

Your husband’s a dork and you love him that way

————————————————————————

Thanks for reading! If you’re like “Excuse me ma’am, wheres the smut?” I know where to redirect you. All my dirty thots went towards my friend Marina’s (@precious-little-scoundrel) lovely post about Rosie. It’s so chef’s kiss. 110% recommend. xxxx 💋

#rosie rosenthal #masters of the air #masters of the air fanfic #mota #mota fanfic #mota fanfiction #robert rosenthal #robert rosie rosenthal #rosie x reader #rosie rosenthal x reader #robert rosenthal x reader #masters of the air fanfiction #mota headcanons #headcanons

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scarletttries · 1 year

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Roman Roy (Succession) Fluff Alphabet

Pairing: Roman Roy (Succession) x Reader

Rating: Pure Fluff

Word Count: 4.9k

Author's Note: thank you so much to the lovely person in my inbox that requested the Fluff alphabet for Roman, you are an absolute genius 😍 this boy is crying out for 26 affectionate letters and here they are! Thank you to everyone else who has sent in Roman and Kendall requests during the new season, I am working through them ☺️♥️

a - affection (how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?)

Affection is hard for Roman Roy. He needs it, he craves it, he looks at you with sad, longing eyes until he gets it. And then when you wrap him in your arms, and pull him into your lap, letting your lips rest against his forehead ever so softly...he withdraws. He makes a quip and he's halfway across the room, panicking about the possible display of weakness, and steeling himself never to do that again. Until an hour later his head is slowly lowering onto your shoulder again and the cycle continues.

It will take months in your relationship before he finally lets himself just be held, and starts to initiate it himself; bringing his hand gently to the side of your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek while he leans in for a kiss, ignoring the warning bells going off in his head and just enjoying that he gets to do his with you. And how nice it is when you smile and kiss him right back.

b - beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? what do you think is beautiful about them?)

Roman thinks you are the most beautiful person he's ever seen, not because of the way you look, although he loves every inch of you, but because of who you are. The patience you have when he doesn't know how to do something simple because he was never taught. The warmth in your smile when he makes a dumb joke that makes him desperate to think of another. The way you move around him is calm and gentle, and every touch is soft, and no matter what, he never feels scared around you. Not even for a second. In fact when he looks into your kind eyes and you offer him a soft, warm hand, he feels truly safe. And for that you are a true vision of beauty, like a real life angel come to save his wretched soul and lead him to salvation.

c- cuddles (do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?)

d - dates (what are dates with them like? do they plan them out or are they spontaneous?)

Once the initial back and forth of trying to accept your affections is over, Roman will be big on cuddling you. Only ever in private, but he will practically collapse into your arms at every possible chance, losing the use of his spine the second you both settle down on his huge designer sofa, laying over the top of you so he can hear your heart beat with his ear to your chest, a constant grounding reminder that you're real and you're here with him. Run your fingers through his slicked back hair and rub gentle circles on his back and you've got a personal heated blanket for life. In public Roman is much less obvious with his affections, having to settle for leaning his shoulder subtly against yours for reassuring contact, hand trembling with anticipation the whole time.

e - ending (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

Not one for planning, dates with Roman would definitely be on the spontaneous side, and honestly probably a little weird to start with. He's never really 'dated' before, usually relying on Roy family events and galas to act as occasions to bring his 'plus ones' to. But with you he wants to do this for real, so he reluctantly asks Tom where he took Shiv on dates before 'their marriage imploded killing thousands.' He'll try the usual spots like museums, galleries, restaurants, constantly asking you what he's supposed to do next like he's missing something while you walk around together. Eventually you'll show him how it's done, setting up a blanket fort with movies and take-out in your humble apartment and teaching him that the only thing that matters about a date is that you get to spend some time comfortably together.

f - fiancée (how do they feel about commitment? how quick would they want to get married?)

Roman's the type of guy to overact to the smallest fight, make a cutting comment and then saying it's over, charging out the door before the other person can fathom a reply. He'd no doubt grow to regret his hasty decision after a while, but feel like going back would be showing weakness, resigned to moving on with his life. Luckily he knows you are far too important to risk losing, so even when he's desperate to slam the door and run away, he makes himself stay, knowing he never wants you to be someone he has regrets about.

g - gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

It would start with a comment from Connor after he's seen you with Roman at a few family functions, about how happy he seems with you, and how 'he didn't think his little bro would ever settle down, but to let him know when he needs the number of a good wedding planner.' Roman would panic at first, brushing him off with a sick joke about how he likes to 'live in more sin than Connor could imagine', and spiralling with the thought that everyone's expecting him to get married any day now, including you. He'd turn the thought over in his head while hiding in one of a hundred mansion bathrooms, feeling suffocated and left adrift at the same time. Like he has no choice but to ask soon because it's what's expected even if he doesn't want to, while also desperate to give you a ring that very second in case you think he never will and that'll make you leave him. After 15 minutes of hyperventilating on the toilet, Roman emerges from the bathroom to find you loitering down the hall. The second you give him that kind, reassuring smile and ask if everything's okay, he knows he's going to ask you, not because he should but because he wants more than anything for you to always look at him that way. It'll take him a while to build up to it, but he'll know pretty soon that it's only a matter of time.

h - hugs (do they like hugs? how often do they do it? what are their hugs like?)

Roman is simply the softest boi. A lifetime of being his family's punching bag mean he never wants anyone else to feel that way, so every feather-light touch will be delivered with a shaking hand, whether he's carefully steering you through a crowded room so you can both get safely to a quiet moment together, or he's caressing your arm before leaning in for a surprisingly sweet kiss. Aside from the obligatory snarky comments, he's gentle with his words too, going out of his way to thank you for the slightest favour, the tell you how nice it feels when you praise him, when you touch him, to always let you know that he's thinking about you, even when his head is full of Roy family toxic waste. Be sweet to Roman, the first true act of kindness he's ever really received, and you will get a kind, soft, sweet boy in return, whose been waiting his entire life for the chance to freely show this softer side of him.

i - injury (how would they act if they got hurt?)

You can tell Roman grew up touch starved and alone because every time you hug him he stands there, rigid as a board for a spilt second and then melts into your arms like he's been waiting for that feeling his whole life. Like with his need to cuddle, he's all over you at the end of a long day, collapsing into your arms, or pulling you on top of him to feel like he's offering that loving comfort back to you. His hugs are always long and slow, bodies entwining as much as possible, limbs wrapping around you until you can't escape his grip if you try, the comforting teddy for a wounded inner child.

When Roman gets hurt, no matter how accidental it may be, it's truly heartbreaking. The second you start to fuss and check he's okay, and apologise if it was you who slightly knocked him, he shuts down, withdrawing in on himself and turning all his pain inwards. He'll tell you it's fine, it's all his fault, he was in the way, you were right to hit him, he was being annoying, he's the one who should be apologising. It'll take a long time to slowly teach him that he never deserves to get hurt, and that he can accept your help safely, you're not going to tease him or make it worse, that it's all going to be okay. One day Roman will come crawling to you for help when he's not feeling well and it will take everything in your power not to cheer and cry with pride as you wrap him in a blanket and steer him back to bed.

j - jealousy (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?)

When you're hurt or injured I'm afraid Roman's useless. He's upset, he's overwhelmed, and you have to calm him down and give him very simple instructions if you need his help, praising him for each favour and telling him he's doing a good job at looking after you when he takes 45 minutes to successfully make a cup of tea.

k - kisses (what are their kisses like? where do they like to be kissed?)

Jealous Roman isn't loud or angry or the kind to make a scene. No, the first time he feels the green-eyed monster weighing down on his shoulders at some Waystar Christmas party, you the centre of attention for the half the fellas in the office, he just feels hollow. Despondent even. Like he was stupid for ever thinking he'd be able to keep you interested, that you wouldn't get a hundred better offers and realise you deserve better than the runt of the pack. By the time you see him skulking off down a corridor out the corner of your eye, he's all but resigned to you leaving here without him, feeling like he's nothing until you chase him down the hall, shouting his name with a cheerful tone that stings his heart even worse. He'd throw out some snarky line about' how he didn't think you'd notice him slip out through the fuckboy posse holding you hostage.' You'd laugh, but see the hurt underneath it, taking his hand in yours and asking if he's ready to get out there, or if he wants to go back in the main room and get inappropriately handsy with each other where everyone can see. He'll always choose to slip away quietly, but he wouldn't mind if a few of the guys from the office notice you two leave together.

l - love language (what is their love language?)

It took a long time for Roman to really ever want to kiss someone, so it still takes him a little by surprise when he has the overwhelming urge to feel your lips against his. At first his movements are awkward, his arms straight by his side as he presses his mouth a little too firmly against yours. Over time, you help him relax into it, letting your fingers rest at the nape of his neck and slowly moving your lips against his, letting him savour the taste of you and gradually chase each movement at his own leisurely pace. Once he gets the hang of it expect to constantly find him pulling your hips against his and cupping your face to gently bring your lips together, his tongue dancing over yours until you have no choice but to break for air, his eyes soft and loving as you pull your head away, knowing it won't be long until he needs to feel you close again.

I think the big two for Roman would be Acts of Service and Physical Touch. I think he's not gonna care that much about gifts given he's never really wanted or needed anything he couldn't get immediately, and he's constantly being lied to and manipulated, so just saying nice things doesn't affect him as much as truly showing him. He loves your quality time together, but the right five minutes with you can completely turn his day around.

For Physical touch it's already been covered, but give his hand a squeeze, his hair a gentle touch, his cheek a kiss? You'll have this boy melted into a puddle immediately. He's been so used to touches being rough or causing pain, that your soft, loving embrace is one of the ways he knows you truly love him, and he truly loves you.

m - mornings (how are mornings spent with them?)

Brought him a bottle of water because you notice he doesn't drink much? Brought his favourite shirt from his apartment because you knew he'd be sleeping over and you wanted him to feel his best the next day? Something as small as putting toothpaste on his brush and handing it to him before doing the same with your own would have him staring at you like you rearranged the stars for him alone. He can't believe you would go out of your way to do something for him, when you have to take care of so much more in your day to day life, so every tiny favour and gesture would make him desperate to try and make you feel that same joy. Even if he would most likely go overboard ranging from buying you a robot vacuum because you don't like cleaning to buying your apartment so you never have to pay rent again.

n - nights (how are nights spent with them?)

Roman is absolutely not a morning person. When he sleeps over be prepared to wake up to a very grumpy face, groaning in protest about the blaring alarms coming from both your phones. He'll insist on pulling the plush layers of duvet quickly back over the both of you, blocking out the daylight and the rest of the world in favour of just the two of you staring into each others eyes as slowly his demeanour starts to thaw and he accepts that you both need to get up. He'll steal a quick kiss for motivation before racing into the kitchen, putting on the coffee machine he has now very proudly learnt to use so he can feel useful in the mornings while you pull some breakfast together.

o - open (when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

Before you came into his life, most of his nights ended with him crawling into bed alone, slightly tipsy, mentally replaying all his perceived failures that day. Now his bedtime is preceded by 45 minutes of hassling you; lying on top of you on the couch so you can't get up for bed, hiding your pyjama top as you start to get changed and claiming he has no idea where it is, but you look great so he wouldn't worry. Once you finally get into bed prepare for an endless monologue of little thoughts and insights, the light flicking back on every time you try to turn it off until eventually he lulls himself to sleep, curling up right next to your back, no matter how much space is free on the kind sized mattress.

p - patience (how patient are they usually? what tends to wear their patience thin?)

Roman's openness is very similar to that of a specific kind of mysterious local corner store/bodega: Never open when you think it should be, but sometimes you'll happen to be walking past at an ungodly hour and it will be open AND have the exact niche thing you need, following seemingly no pattern for its operating hours or inventory. In the same way, sometimes you will ask Roman a simple, first-date level, personal question and get nothing in response but a snarky line and cold shoulder. Then at 2am you'll find him at your door with a story from childhood that leaves you in tears and his favourite candy because he wanted you to know that about him after all. It's a bit of trial and error getting to know Roman, but as he slowly learns that his thoughts and secrets are safe with you, then he stops locking the gates to himself and starts giving you a key to let yourself in.

q - quality time (how do they like to spend with you?)

Being a Roy means you rarely have to wait for anything that you want, and growing up surrounded by short fuses. This makes Roman a little bit quick to throw out a cutting remark and start to get snippy when things aren't going his way. He hates that part of himself though, and wants to be more patient and understanding like you, so he's quick to apologise, sometimes going a little overboard with the apology to show just how much he means it (like when he got a telling off from Logan for sending a hundred bouquets of tulips to your desk, disrupting Waystar for the afternoon and throwing the Dutch economy into turmoil.)

r - remember (what is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

Like how it was unnatural for Roman to start going on dates with you, given how little of his free time he's ever really been in control of, spending time together also starts off a little uncomfortable for him. Sure when you're at work at Waystar he's happy to just sit on the floor by your desk, chatting shit and ignoring the strange looks for passersby as they try to have normal work conversations with you. And if you go to a cafe or a bar after work and just spend your time talking about nothing and laughing at each others dumb one-liners then it's as easy company as Roman's ever known. It's when he tries to plan every second, desperate to make sure you don't get bored that you have to slow him down and take him by the hand and ask him what he actually feels like doing with your rare Sunday off, the response to which is pretty much always "Can we just do, like, fucking nothing?" Which you are more than happy to join him in, lounging across his living room while the TV blares in the background and you just enjoy being in each others comfortable company.

s - security (how protective are they? how would they protect you? how would they like to be protected?)

The first birthday he celebrated with you, before you were really an item, and you made him actually feel like this birthday was actually something worth celebrating. I have a whole section on this in these headcanons.

t - try (how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Growing up Roman always wished there had been someone around to protect him from his father and his family and the expectations of the Roy family name and now you do that for him effortlessly with your support and patience and kindness. So when Roman gets the chance, he's so determined to play the role of protector, making sure no one can ever make you feel like they have him. Be prepared to be the one reason Roman will stand up to his family and not let them lead him along, stopping any sly comments before they start. And when the inevitable workplace rumours start about the two of you, he'll find whoever dared start them and give them a stirring speech about how it would take him less than three phone calls to completely ruin their life, meaning suddenly no one at work has any opinion on your personal life. In return Roman wouldn't ever want you to stand up for him in an obvious way, he doesn't want to be accused of not fighting his own battles. Instead just protect his heart afterwards, piece him back together when he's broken down, remind him you still think the world of him, and you'll easily be his hero.

u - upset (how do they act when you’re upset? how do they act when they’re upset?)

Poor Roman really feels the pressure when it comes to special occasions. He's got all the resources in the world, but frankly a supreme lack of practical skills. He'll try to follow a recipe from a Michelin starred chef, only to realise nothing looks like it does in the video and now something smells like burning, and you'll be home any minute and the surprise will be ruined. You'll find him crouched under the dining table in tears while the smoke alarm blares, devastated because 'he can't do anything right, and you're going to realise that and run.' A few well timed kisses and a reminder that you know he's extraordinary even if he's not much of a cook, and that you're not going anywhere and he'll be back on his feet again in no time. While he might struggle with the big events, on a day to day level he always puts in the effort, coming to find you at every event and work day, learning how to do simple things to make your life easier, and genuinely being a surprisingly good person to live with when he sleeps over, something that doesn't go unnoticed by either of you.

When Roman's upset it takes a long time to try and coax it out of him, his instincts to just stuff it down and make a joke bubbling up to the surface initially. But slowly he'll learn that a problem shared is a problem halved and he'll start offering up his troubling thoughts before they overwhelm him and lead to a full breakdown.

v - vanity (how concerned are they with their looks?)

When you're upset, Roman is surprisingly empathetic. He likes that he gets to be the person to tell you it's going to be okay, and to listen to whatevers troubling you, rather than another source of vicious mockery when he's spent his whole life surrounded by that. He'll rage about how much bullshit things are when they're not going your way, wrapping his arms around you and grumbling adorable 'oh nos' into the top of your head until you can't help but crack a smile.

w - wildcard (a random headcanon for them)

Roman's never been hugely fussed by fashion or trying to look a certain way, he's had the same haircut since he was 19 and while he sometimes wishes he was as tall as his brothers, mostly he's more concerned with what's on the inside when it comes to his self-love, or self-loathing. That being said, if you were to call him handsome he'd spend the rest of the day with a cocky grin on his face and checking himself out proudly in every single reflective surface he walked past.

The first time you held Roman Roy's hand was a complete accident; he'd been walking backwards up a flight of stairs in front you, so he could continue the conversation he was enjoying so much with you that he didn't dare look away for a second, and almost tripped straight onto his butt. Luckily you managed to catch him by the hand at the last second, and as you pulled him back to his feet it was like his entire world stopped spinning for a second. The soft, warm feeling of your skin meeting his, the gentle squeeze of reassurance as you laughed at his lack of coordination, the couple of seconds too long he kept hold of you for, feeling like his blood was finally reaching his heart, hammering in chest for the first time he could remember. He was obsessed. He thought of nothing else for the next two days, staring down at his own palm to make sure the surge of electricity in his body hadn't left a mark when you'd touched him.

So he made a plan to feel that same way again, using the characteristic he was most confident about possessing; being annoying. He slunk over to your desk as usual, trying to hide the little smile he seemed incapable of wiping off his face whenever he saw you. You were focusing on your work, but gave him a little smile as he sunk on to the carpet next you, feeling his gaze fixed to your hand where it sat moving your mouse to and fro. He started the conversation as usual, complaining about the charity event he went to last night, describing every awful interaction he endured, whining about how much work he had to do today, despite being sat by your side. However every so often he'd slide his hand across your desk and nudge your mouse just as you were about to click. The first time you assumed it was an accident. Then every few seconds he did the same thing, pretending not to notice it was happening. Finally you noticed that every time he did it, he smiled a little at the contact with your hand, fondly remembering your stairwell embrace.

x-ray (how easily are they able to read you?)

So, hoping to succeed in his bizarre little game, the next time his hand moved to nudge yours, you moved a second earlier, capturing his hand in yours and threading your fingers through his. His giddy little giggle at your action confirmed your assumption about his motivation, so you spend the rest of the afternoon awkwardly trying to use your mouse with the wrong hand, while Roman happily clung to your other one, sighing happily every time you ran your thumb softly over his, content to spend the rest of his days right there.

y -yuck (what things do you do that they hate?)

This is not easy for Roman since he's used to being in a room full of people hiding their true motivations and playing verbal chess to try and get a few moves ahead. If you're having an off day, Roman might pick up on those vibes, but honestly he'll just assume he's done something wrong, and start trying to make it up to you somehow. You'll have to be a bit direct with Roman, but he'll always do his best to do what he can to help once he knows what you're thinking.

z - zzz (what is a sleep habit of theirs?)

While Roman loves being on the receiving end of your kindness and love, it makes his skin crawl when he sees you genuinely getting along with Connor and Willa. You can't help but find Willa genuine and interesting, and while Connor might be delusional and certainly not fit for the presidency, he doesn't lie and manipulate like the other Roys and enjoys having someone who really wants to hear about his camping trips with Roman and the parts of his youth that he rarely gets to remember fondly. Roman feels like there's something hideously wrong with the picture when he finds the three of you sat at the back table of a gala, avoiding business talk and just being human beings, but that's only because he doesn't understand that you and Connor have something very important in common; loving Roman.

No son of Logan Roys was ever to be permitted sleeping with a stuffed animal, so despite a childhood of nightmares and fear, Roman never had a teddy growing up. As an adult he's rarely spent the night alongside someone he truly cares about and trusts, so the first time he sleeps over you wake up to find his little fists clinging to you, like you might somehow drift out to sea in the night. When he realises he immediately apologises and makes a joke about 'not wanting you to swipe his wallet while he slept', but night after night you two always wake up to him holding onto you for dear life, to the point that you'll hold his hand as soon as you get into bed and watch him drift off to sleep so much easier. Bonus tip: when he gets sent halfway across the world on business and can't bring you with him, get him one of those special teddy bears you can record a message in and, once he's made a hundred ultra-masculine jokes about how ridiculous and creepy it is, it will become his prized possession.

#writing #fanfiction #one shot #requests #roman roy angst #roman roy fluff #roman roy imagine #roman roy x reader #roman roy #succession imagine #succession hbo #succession #succession headcanons #roman roy succession

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prodbymaui · 1 year

Text

What Goes Down

typa girl that you wanna take back to your mama's house

Maybe dragging Jaehyun with you as you paid a visit to your parents' house wasn't a good idea at all.

The supposed heartful lunch started cheerful and full of curiosities about how's everyone's doing, who's with who and some gossips such that to catch up with one another. It was peaceful not until you felt a hand touching your thigh, traveling upwards where the hem of your skirt ended.

Shooting a glance at your boyfriend, you almost clap by how great his charming smile and soft voice was concealing the dirty activity his hands were doing below the table. You made an effort to stop his fingers from feeling your core through your panties and cycling but was betrayed by your own body as it gushes out an amount of slick.

Your breath became heavy as Jaehyun put a pressure just right at your clit, circling it around in an attempt to make you moan, in which you almost did- almost, you quickly bite a mouthful of rice with some meat to prevent the sound from coming out. Jaehyun was watching, amused by how hard you were trying to hold back.

Shutting your eyes, you gripped Jaehyun's wrists as his fingers pushed the fabric barriers to the side, sliding a finger inside your wet hole. At your peripheral, you could see how Jaehyun licked his lips at the feeling of the wetness around his digit, curling them in search for your spongey spot. You'll be damned if you said that the perverted look on your boyfriend's face didn't turned you on.

Slouching on the chair, it was your effort to have the finger dig deeper into your cave, sanity slipping away from you as you focused on the pleasure rather than conversation around you. Fortunately, everyone's too caught up with the topic laid on the table because if they weren't, they would see that behind the hand you were covering your mouth with, was an O shaped lips- little whimpers escaping it as your other hand held the cutlery so tight.

Jaehyun smiled cruelly at your state, adding more fingers as his pace became quicker with a flick of his wrist. God, how he enjoyed the helpless look on your face while trying hard not to throw your head back and scream how good he was pleasuring you. Jaehyun forced himself not to scoff as watched your hips subtly-not-so-subtly grind against his palm, wanting a friction on your clit while getting his fingers deeper.

With a few rubs on your plushed clit and a curl of his fingers, you came quietly around his digits, grasping the fabric of your skirt as you leaned your head on Jaehyun's shoulder, hiding the way your eyes shut tightly and your tongue lolling out slightly due to the overwhelming pleasure.

Coming down from your high, you acted natural, not wanting any suspicions, sitting up again as you fixed everything you've touched involuntarily during the activity earlier.

Turning to look at your boyfriend, you didn't if you'll be annoyed or get more turned on by how he licked and sucked his fingers with your cum coating them, letting out a sound of satisfaction followed by, ''Oh auntie, everything you make is no doubt delicious.''

You swore Jaehyun was no way near talking about the food in front of him.

masterlist

#jung jaehyun #jaehyun smut #nct smut #nct 127 #nct #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun hard hours #nct hard hours #nct scenarios #prodbymaui

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ohdeersthings · 1 year

Text

Clouds of Rain

Neteyam X F!Reader

Part 3 of Clouds Series

Summary: Everyday you and Neteyam get closer, but now he's seen a side you want to hide

Warning: Toxic parents, a little angst, fluff moments between Neteyam and Reader, Neteyam and Reader are eyeing eachother 👀❤️

When the day had started, distant sounds of thunder echoed around the forest. Shadows crept across the moss covered floor as a storm rolled in. Many Na'vi relished in the rain, the prosperity it brought to the food and animals almost seemed mystical, but to you it brought a sorrow.

You weren't allowed out of your families tent on stormy days, even though you were seen as a grown adult, you were unmated, uncourted, so therefore, still a child in your parents eyes.

You longed for the sunshine and blue skies, but Eywa seemed to want a day of rest and restoring water to the cycle of life. "(Y/N)! Come here at once!" Your mother's voice cut through your day dream as you stared out into the vast mist of rain in the distance.

You stood from your position and walked with small steps to your mother. Your youngest sibling, a boy the age of three, sat in her lap fast asleep. You wished you could curl up like that, remembering the days she would coo at you and kiss you sweetly, that changed when more siblings came along and suddenly you couldn't do anything right in her eyes.

Kneeling in front of her, she spoke,"You are to go get us some fruit from the gathering circle, be quick, you are to come straight back, do you understand," her tone left no answer needed, it was a demand.

You nodded, going to stand but her hand tightly grapsed your wrist, pulling you back around to face her, her dull yellow eyes hard. "Answer me girl!" "Yes mama," you quietly spoke, eyes meeting her face but not her eyes, she hated when you looked at her in the eyes.

Releasing you, she waved you off and you quickly turned and hurried out. It wasn't usual for Na'vi to be abusive to their children, yet it wasn't unheard of. Your parents just happened to check every mark there was, verbal, emotional, mental, and physical. It just depended on their mood of the day to determine how your day would end.

Reaching the gathering circle, you picked the nicest looking fruit that you hoped would appease her rath, you began to walk back with it bundled in your arms, only to run smack into another person.

The fruit got squashed between both bodies, the juice sticking to your arms, chest and stomach, your mouth slightly open in shock. That was unexpected, but then again you were rushing with your head down.

"Oh Great Mother, I'm sorry!" Neteyams voice made you jolt up to meet his eyes, his face worried as he realized he ran into you. Just another foolish episode it seemed.

"(Y/n)! I'm so sorry, let me help you," Neteyam reached down to grab the fruit, but it unsavable at that point. You covered your mouth with a soft laugh, not wanting to upset the man in his rush to help you.

"Its alright Neteyam, no harm done," you assured, a smile gracing your lips. Neteyam was a light in your gray world, he could do no wrong in your eyes. The thought of the fruit left your mind, now focused solely on spending time with Neteyam.

"Come," you helped him up, his words stumbling over each other as he tried to figure out how to help, "B-but your fruit? Let me, let me help," you shook your head, waving it off, "There will be more fruit, but let's go get washed up," he let you drag him away, the fruit left forgotten on the floor.

Mother would not be happy later.

~.~

Laughing as you two walked up the edge of the village where vases of water sat, you let go and approached the water. Cupping your hands together, bringing the cool water to your face and neck, you breathed in a sigh of relief and shut your eyes, the water doing good to help rid the sticky fruit and seeds that stuck to your skin.

Neteyam allowed his eyes to trace over each water droplet that ran down your soft skin, going where only his eyes could imagine and where he wished he could touch too. Oh to be envious of water.

"Aren't you going to wash up?" Your soft voice broke his concentration, eyes looking to your face and seeing your glowing green eyes staring at him with your eyelids lowered, a look you weren't trying to give him but his thoughts quickly wondered and this caused him to rush forward, almost dunking his head into the water to cool himself off.

You giggled, having noticed his look from before and allowed your own eyes to slowly rake over his flushed body. His years of training doing wonders for him, the muscle and strength he held made your tail flick a few times before you willed it to stop and wrap around your leg.

"I am sorry, for ruining your fruit," Neteyam wiped his face of water, looking down at you though you smiled.

That pretty smile made him weak.

"Its alright, there will be more fruit later," you looked up at him, "let me make it up to you," he offered, though you grew confused. How would he make it up to you? Why did he feel the need? It was only a few pieces of fruit, surely you could replace it on your own.

"Oh? How?" You asked, arms crossing and staring at him intrigued, your hip jutting out a little causing him to gulp, trying to focus back on you as a whole.

"That's for me to worry about, now, let's go grab you some more fruit," he placed a small kiss to your head as he walked by, your face flushing as you trailed after him.

It was true you had kissed him before, a few weeks ago before he took you flying on his Ikran, but since then it had only been longing stares and a few light touches. A whisper here and there in the others ear, both of you too scared to ruin what you had going on. Scared that your realities would be crushed by the world if the true feelings were spoken out into the air.

~.~

Arriving back at the gathering circle, Neteyam grabbed new fruit to replace the ones he messed up, placing only one in your arms and he carried the rest.

"Oh no, Neteyam I can carry It really," you begged, not wanting him to follow you home. Not to the horrors that may await you. "Nonsense, allow me to help you, it was my fault," he grinned, not picking up on your worried tone.

It seemed he didn't have to, for your father's voice cut throught the air like a knife. "(Y/n)!" His deep, growl like voice caused you to freeze, Neteyam frowning when he saw the fear plaster on your now pale face. His eyes glanced behind you where two figures were appearing.

"Papa," you greeted, turning where the tall, brooding Na'vi man stood. He was one of the best hunters in the clan, your younger brother, only three years younger than you, trailing behind him with a small, smug look.

Your brother quite enjoyed when you got in trouble, but that's only because he himself didn't have to bare your father and mother's disapproving gaze.

"What are you doing? Your mother has been waiting and here you are, goofing off and laying around like you always do," Your fathers eyes made you shrink, head down into your shoulders hoping to disappear.

Neteyam placed himself between you both, chest puffing up to match your father. He didn't like how dull your eyes got, he hated how you tried to shrink instead of stand tall. "The fault is mine, sir, take it up with me. Leave your daughter out of this," Neteyam hissed, his tail lashing at the thought of what this man would say or do to you, his own child.

Your Father seemed to realize who he now faced, eyes narrowing suspiciously as they darted between Toruk Maktos oldest son, the future leader of the clan and his own child, his only daughter and oldest child.

The way the young man stood in front of you, challenging him to dare say another word had your father ask,"Who are you to tell me how to talk to my daughter? Have you courted her, mated with her," he knew the answer, but your father wanted to prove a point.

"No sir, but the fault is mine. I caused her to drop fruit and helped to clean her up, so any qualms you have you can deal them with me right now," Neteyam promised, knowing that the fact you two really weren't together stung, but he would defend you no matter what. He loved you that much.

It seemed as though Eywa had a saving grace, his own father, Jake Sully, appeared. "What's going on here?" Jake looked narrow eyed to the hunter in front of him, he knew (F/N) well, the man was very strict and harsh, but one of the best hunters to the clan.

You rushed forward, tired of all the arguing and not wanting a whole fight to break out. "Neteyam was helping me with fruit, I was clumsy and dropped it," you spazzed through your words, not turning to meet either Sully mens eyes behind you, focusing on your father instead, scared of what he would say more or do.

"I'm sorry Papa, I will be more careful from now on," Your father didn't want to cause a bigger scene infront of his Olo'eyktan, so he called for your brother to take the fruit who glared at you as if you had asked him instead of your father. "We will speak at home," your father leaned down close and threatened, eyes of green, though darker than your own, stared right through you. His words a silent threat that more than talking will be done at home.

"Yes Papa," you submitted, ears pulled back in fear and humiliation. Fear of what your father would do. Humiliation that Neteyam had to witness you like this.

Your Father and brother stomped away, your shoulders tense as you turned to see both men staring at you sadly.

"Thank you for helping me Neteyam, I'll see you around," you hurried out, words like mush as you trailed off into the direction your family had gone to.

"(Y/n)-" Neteyam reached out, but his father's hand on his shoulder stopped him, a huff of defeat in his lips as you disappeared from view.

"Give her some space, (F/n) is not one to mess with, getting her in more trouble may not be a wise case," Jake instructed, Neteyam clicking his tongue in annoyance and anger.

"(Y/n) shouldn't be suffering with them! It was my fault that the fruit fell, she shouldn't have to pay for that," he felt himself become hostile every second that passed, now beginning to pace in front of his father.

"(Y/n) deserves to be free! She is a grown woman, not a pet or a child!" He cried, Neteyam turning his body, eyes gazing after your invisible figure one last time.

"She so gentle, I want to watch her float on the clouds, not be tied down," Neteyam whispered.

~.~

Taglist: (there is a lot of yall 🤣)

@jaymiemallari21 @ssc7514 @itsemy01 @zbeez-outlet @danamq1 @cwufst @sourpatches111 @eywas-heir @heaven1oo4 @neteyamforlife @naynay2808 @msjae @ultimatebluff @jjkclub @ksata @otukirey @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @whenercolorfulrainbowlol @teyamdefender17 @tejas-kris @serpientez @thexplosivegirl @inluvwithneteyam @dead-28 @brooklynscherry-z @weridpersonhelp @he110hon @rainbowsocks @andromets @awriana @alldaladiesloveleooo @loves1ckgirl @pixiexdusts-world @yagirldd @wwwellacom @melllinaa @dreamingsmile @starstruckmentalitypaper @velvetskies @mxrgodsstuff @ambla-nezie @wiltedkyinn @giannadodson @glowbugsblog @boggiesho @mentallyillartist @hastalapastayuh @

@honeyluvsblog @blairrrrrr @heluvsst4rgir1

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sgt-seabass · 1 year

Note

Joining in on the clockwork fan train, I have a Drabble prompt if you are interested. Nick often plays fast and loose with reader’s safety, and although he’s a control freak so he thinks of everything to prevent her getting harmed (like using air rifle etc) I wonder how he might react if he goes too far/something goes wrong and she does actually get badly hurt from one of his games. Maybe playtime gone wrong or he misjudged his strength. Would he feel guilt, or shrug it off?

𝒔𝒊𝒑 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒍𝒚

pairing — mob boss!prime alpha!nick fowler x omega!reader w/c — 1.9k this is a dark fic. 18+ only. part of the Clockwork AU. listening to — ♫ sip u slowly warnings — general dark elements, smut (dubcon due to stokholm, p in v, cunnilingus), choking to the point of passing out and bruising, possessiveness, pet names (pup, puppy, omega), a/b/o dynamics, very light medical elements, reference to past minor character death a/n — i hope you like it! thank you so much for the support and interest in the Clockwork AU! written on my phone. thank you so much to @rookthorne for helping with beta and suggestions 🥺🥺💙 this was meant to be short whoops.

Nick had been insatiable, fucking you for hours and eating you out each time in-between sessions.

After a work deal had gone awry and lives had been lost, he wanted nothing more than to bury his problems in your tight heat. With your essence on his tongue, he could be absolved of his irreverence.

Nick was angry. He didn’t take to fuck ups well.

When he’d heard about an omega retrieval gone wrong that ended with the death of a few targeted girls, he was irate.

Nick had to murder his men for their actions. They were there to capture them, not kill them - professionalism was expected, mandated, in his organisation. Nick didn’t need more red in his ledger, yet it seemed to have a way of seeping in, tainting the pages and bleeding everywhere.

His temper was no more than his inner child locked in an endless cycle of self-flagellation, so he fixated on you to distract himself. He’d created you and turned you into the omega he wanted. However, the problem with manipulating is that you deny yourself the love and support that partnership provides. Nick knew he was fooling himself by thinking you were unequivocally his, so he wanted to show you how good he could make you feel.

The urge boiled beneath his skin, an unbridled need to claim you; to fuck you into oblivion.

Barely keeping himself restrained, he’d carried you to the bedroom just after dinner, and the sun had long set. His need for you continued into the early morning.

By the time the clock hit three am, you were exhausted. That much was evident by the way your eyes struggled to stay open even as you orgasmed. The little sounds Nick pulled from you got whinier and more strained the more your body tried to get its rest.

But there was no rest for the wicked, and Nick was certainly feeling sinful.

“Give me another, puppy,” Nick growled to you, face between your legs before moaning at the taste of his seed and your wet mixing.

“I’m tired, alpha. I can’t.” You whimpered, sweat dotting your brow while your back arched against the silk bedsheets. “S’too much.”

“Uh-uh. You don’t get to decide that. I’ll tell you when it’s enough, omega.” Nick’s voice reverberated against your clit before he gently sucked it, causing your fingers to fist into the sheets from the unrelenting pleasure.

This was Nick’s favourite way to have you. Crumpled from the euphoria he caused you. You’d fought so hard against him, but at the end of the day, you ended up right where you belonged.

In his bed.

Nick started slow, drawing circles around your clit before replacing his tongue with his fingers. He flicked his finger while his mouth pressed kisses along your hip and down your thigh. Nick couldn’t help himself when it came to tasting all of you, so he bit into the supple flesh of your thigh as he kept working your sensitive clit.

Your wail only served to make Nick bite again, closer to your cunt this time. Fuck, your tears were gorgeous. “Does it hurt, omega?” When you nodded in response, Nick slapped your thigh. “Use your words.”

“Ye— Yes. Hurts, alpha.”

“Mm, but you look so beautiful with my marks.” Nick looked at the teeth marks adorning your skin, smirking to himself before turning his attention back to your clit. “Tell me what you want, puppy. Tell me what you need.”

Your thighs clenched, and Nick chuckled dryly as he ground himself against the bed, his erection painfully hard. He wanted to do nothing more than fuck you senseless, but it was worth waiting if it meant he got to see you shatter.

“I need…” You stopped yourself, and Nick could see the embarrassment in your expression. It was beautiful. “I need your mouth, please, alpha.”

“Such nice manners,” Nick praised before giving you exactly what you wanted.

He drank you in slowly, running his tongue over your folds and watching how you responded. You were so tense. As if each muscle was waiting for the anticipated precipice. And Nick would give it to you, but he wanted his fun first.

Deft fingers pulled your folds apart, and Nick groaned at the sight of you. Glistening and inviting. “Such a pretty pussy, pup. Prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen.”

Nick ran his flat tongue up your cunt, starting with long, languid licks that began to gradually get faster. Nick placed a hand on your stomach to stablise you as his broad strokes got shorter, turning into quick flicks across your clit.

He didn’t stop, not tiring even as the clock ticked away on the bedside table.

The tell-tale signs of your impending orgasm started to show as Nick alternated between licking and sucking, his hand running up and down your thigh as the other held you down. Your body tensed, and it goaded Nick to go faster, gripping your flesh tightly.

Nick hummed against your clit, and the dams burst. Like music to his ears, your mewls turned high-pitched as you came, your juices gushing down his chin. Nick had lost count of how many orgasms you’d had tonight, but each one was better than the last. He’d never get sick of this.

“My puppy does love playtime, don’t you, baby?” Nick watched as your glazed eyes looked at him, surprised at the new pet name. Baby. It’s endearing. Intimate. “You’re going to sit back and let your alpha do all the work now, right? Puppies are just too silly to do anything but lay down and get fucked.”

Seeing you so raw, so vulnerable, was bringing out the beast in Nick. The further down this rabbit hole he fell, the harder it was to keep his semblance of control. If you tried to make a run for it right now, he might actually kill you, too lost in the chase of his prey to realise what was happening. But you don’t run. Instead, you shuffled a little up the sheets, so your head rested on one of the satin pillows.

You knew you couldn’t escape, so you prepared yourself to be comfortable. Nick crawled up the bed, cock standing proud between his parted thighs, and he loomed over you. “Are you scared, puppy?”

Nick smiled when you gave him an odd look like you weren’t sure what response he wanted. “You should be.”

His words were the only warning you got before he mounted you, sheathing his dick in your dripping cunt with one swift motion of his hips. Nick let out a growl, pulling out the pillow from under you so he could grip the back of your neck. “Fuck. Fuck. You feel like fucking velvet, omega.”

The teasing nature Nick had earlier was long gone, replaced with a feral alpha desperate to breed. His thrusts were deep, rutting against your hips as his heavy breaths filled the room, mixed with your moans. It was a fucking symphony.

“This little cunt is mine, isn’t it? Tell me,” Nick snarled, pounding into your sore, used pussy without resolve.

“S’yours. All yours,” you sobbed into the cool air, tears streaking down your cheeks.

“That’s right. You’re fucking mine.” Nick moved his hand to rest on the front of your neck. He tiled his head back while his eyes fluttered closed.

It was a complete state of bliss. Nick didn’t look down as he let himself be free. No control, no thoughts. Just alpha.

You moaned with each plunge of his cock, but Nick didn’t notice the way your moans were weakening under the sound of smacking flesh.

Your hands clawed at Nick’s arm, but he didn’t even register it.

It wasn’t until you went quiet altogether that Nick opened his eyes.

Suddenly, cold washed over Nick when he looked down, his hand tight around your neck and your eyes closed. Not even a squeak came from your parted lips.

“Omega? Shit. Omega, open your eyes.” Nick tapped your cheek, but you were completely unconscious. “Puppy, wake up.”

He shook your shoulders, pulling his now soft cock out of you before he placed his finger under your nose. A sigh of relief left Nick when he felt the soft blow of your breath against his skin.

Nick’s jaw clenched, guilt awash over him. He was so lost in the moment he didn’t realise he’d begun squeezing, and he’d choked you out.

Your lack of response concerned Nick, so he sat on the bed, pulling you to his chest. He cradled you, and suddenly he was like his ten-year-old self again, holding the body of his dead sister on the living room floor. “Wake up. Please. I’ll… I’ll get you even more strawberries. You love them, right?”

You didn’t wake. Still soundly asleep and unaware of your distressed alpha.

In making you vulnerable, Nick had actually exposed himself. Desperate and alone, he was nothing without something of his own. Without you.

“Beck! Bring your med kit!” Nick’s voice boomed through the mansion, a prime alpha call.

Only moments later, Beck came barrelling through the door with his doctor’s bag. His eyes widened at the sight of you in Nick’s lap, mottled bruises already beginning to spread over your neck. “What happened?”

“I didn’t realise I was squeezing,” Nick’s voice came out monotone, devoid of emotion. His heart had begun to lock down. He wasn’t ready to lose anyone else.

Beck rushed over, gently taking you from Nick and resting you back against the bed. Your alpha moved away from the bed, arms crossed and expression cold as he watched.

“She’s alive,” Beck commented. You were obviously alive, but hearing Beck’s assurance eased Nick a little. The alpha always managed to calm him down.

There was a flurry of movement as Beck checked you over, Nick watching closely, not moving from his spot. As if he were a statue, frozen by pain.

“She’s going to be fine. I think she could use an IV with some fluids, and I can do a scan of her neck if you’re really worried,” Beck sighed, standing up. “But she’s okay. We could put her in the medical bay?”

“No. She stays here,” Nick snapped back quickly. Beck didn’t flinch, not phased by the icy mood of his boss. “Do the IV here.”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll go get the stuff from downstairs if you want to get her into bed for me. Her body is pretty run down, so I imagine she’ll wake up when she’s got some energy back.” Not waiting for a response, Beck packed his things. On the way out, he passed Nick, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Accidents happen. It’s okay.”

Without further comment, Beck left, leaving Nick staring at you. He could have snapped your neck and not even realised.

Nick ran a hand over his face, the memories of his sister still fresh in his mind; he couldn’t protect her or his mother, but he could keep you safe. You were the only thing that had ever made him feel human.

After the loss of his family, he’d turned into a hardened shell. But something about you and your homely scent cracked his defences. Around you, his heart was exposed. It meant he could love with a burning intensity, but also hurt just as much.

Body tensed, Nick maneuvered you carefully so the sheet and duvet shielded you from the cool night air. You were covered in your slick and Nick’s cum, but washing you was an issue he’d resolve after you’d rested.

Waiting for Beck to return, Nick pulled up an armchair to sit beside you. He’d never let you see this side of him, not for now anyway. He wasn’t ready. But with you unaware, Nick leant forward to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I’m sorry, omega.”

To be updated on when I post please follow @sgt-seabass-library and turn on post notifications.

#ambs answers #cherished anons #ambswrites #clockwork au #nick fowler #nick fowler x you #nick fowler x reader #chris beck #sebastian stan #sebastian stan character #sebastian stan fanfiction #nick fowler fanfiction #dark fic

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klbwriting · 2 months

Text

Broken Prism

Chapter 19

Fandom: Red Hood

Pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader

Warnings: violence, suggestions of dismembering a body, smut, penetration, oral (both receiving), marked the smut with *** in case you want to skip

Summary: Joker is out of Arkham and Jason needs to kill him to free himself from the torment knowing his killer is alive brings

Notes: changed my mind about the fancast, I'm keeping Lewis in my posts, not worried about the anon hate I'm getting, figured out how to find/block them so like Jason I am free of my tormenters!

You noticed Jason starting to change as summer turned into fall. He wasn’t distant with you, but with the others he pulled away. He would mostly hide away in his room or in the tech lab in the cave, but only when Tim wasn’t in there. Or he would make excuses to be out, taking you on dates, going on extra patrols, doing rounds in North Gotham. Bruce kept asking you what was going on but, in all honesty, you weren’t entirely sure what was going on in Jason’s mind. As much as you tried to get him to open up fully, he still kept his cards close to his chest. You were trying to give him space, but you were getting to the end of your rope at this point. You needed him to open up just a little to stop you from worrying so much about him.

“Jason please, where are you going tonight?” you asked as you followed him around the cave as he suited up. He shrugged and you glared. “Are you going to tell the others?”

“Nope,” he said, emphasizing the p. You took a breath and he looked at you, then down again as he made sure his guns were loaded.

“I won’t tell them if you don’t want me to but just tell me, please, I’m so worried when you go out like this,” you said.

“Like what?” he asked, trying to sound casual. He had dark circles under his eyes and was gripping the table in front of him enough to whiten his knuckles.

“Like you’re about to explode,” you said, going over and setting a hand on his arm. You were gentle, wanting him to know that you were there for him. It was a bit of a cycle with him, doubt, insecurity first, then he would have days where he knew his worth, that you were there and he could confide in you, but then something in his mind darkened and he would go back to the doubts and insecurity again for weeks. Dr. Thompkins told you to be patient, he was getting better at opening up, and you knew that, but it was still frustrating sometimes.

“Maybe I will and then you can be rid of my annoying ass,” he said. You grabbed his arm tighter then, pushing his face to look at you.

“Don’t say that, ever,” you said. He looked at you and you saw the guilt flash across his face. “Please, you don’t have to tell me details just, generally, what are you up to tonight?” He looked at you for a minute before, turning and leaning against the table. He put his hands to your hips, pulling you close to him, leaning his forehead to yours. You smiled like you always did when he was affectionate with you.

“I’m sorry, I’m heading out to Amusement Mile,” he said. You looked at him, worrying your bottom lip with your teeth. He leaned in and kissed you, taking your lip and licking it gently.

“Don’t worry, I have a lead on Joker and well, I know Bruce won’t do it but I’m going to kill him. May not make everything in brain work the right way but I think it’ll make it easier to forget,” he said. Ever since Joker had escaped Arkham again Jason had been having worse nightmares. You were moved into his room with him by now and every night he would wake you, sometimes wailing in his sleep, sometimes when he had already woken up and just needed to feel your touch. You never denied him, holding him close until he fell asleep again.

“Ok, be careful, I love you,” you said softly. He smiled at you. It was weak, but it was there, and you felt some comfort from it. “I won’t tell the others, but keep your tracking beacon on just in case? I’m monitoring tonight so Alfred can have a break.”

“I promise, I won’t disappear on you,” he said. He kissed you again, holding it for longer this time. “Love you sweetness.” He grabbed his guns and headed out.

Jason prowled the old amusement park, hoping his contact had been right about Joker holing up there trying to gather followers from the houseless population that was squatting on the land. He perched himself at the top of the roller coaster, looking over the rest of the rides surrounding him. He couldn’t tell if the fact that Joker would hide out in the funhouse of the theme park was too on the nose or exactly what he would do. Then he saw a group coming out of the funhouse dressed like clowns, running from a small mob carrying various weapons. Joker walked out casually, following the chase at a slower pace.

“Get them! Have some fun!” he yelled after them, laughing. Jason’s entire body spasmed and he almost fell from the coaster. That laugh, that face, it was in every nightmare he had, it was the soundtrack to every horrible thought he’d ever had. He needed to end this. He desperately wanted to just sniper Joker right now, one through the head from a distance, but he needed to watch him die, make sure he was completely gone.

He snuck down the coaster, following Joker as he followed the hunting party. It was obvious that Joker knew he was there at some point. He stopped, turned and Jason came face to face with him. Joker cocked his head to side before smiling wide.

“What a look! O I love the nostalgia!” he said, almost giddy. “My look was more magician, but I love how you modernized it, just wonderful. Want my autograph?” Jason leveled his gun to him.

“Nah, just your blood,” he said. Joker’s eyes widened in glee, and he giggled again. He held up his hands, mocking Jason clearly but surprisingly Jason wasn’t fazed. Things were falling into place.

“OOO blood lust? My favorite kind!” he said. “Where do you want me? Right here is a little exposed, maybe we go back to my place?”

Jason walked over slowly, expecting it when Joker pulled the blade and slashed at him. He dodged, turning and hitting Joker in the face with his gun. The madman stumbled but recovered, slashing again at Jason, almost catching his chest. Jason hit him again, this time in the shoulder, dislocating it. Joker looked at his arm and switched his blade to the other hand. Jason sighed, just tired of this guy jumping around, messing with his mind, he shot him in the knee. Joker let out a pained scream and Jason couldn’t help the smile that came to his face. Good, let this fucker feel all the pain he could take. The blade fell from Joker��s hand as he clutched his leg. Jason walked over, slamming the butt of his gun into Joker’s head, knocking him out. He grabbed him, starting to drag him to where he had something set up, some fun of his own to have with this monster.

Bruce was back from patrol, seeing you still sitting at the Batcomputer, watching the screen. Jason had been at the amusement park for hours and you hoped it wasn’t because he was hurt. He hadn’t hit the panic button, you still could see the dot, red against the multi-colored satellite view of the city. He waited for you to notice him, but you were too focused.

“Is that Jason?” he asked finally. You jumped, turning to look at him. “What is he doing in…” He froze.

“Let him be Bruce, he needs to finish this,” you said. Bruce put the cowl back on, turning to go back to the Batmobile. You jumped up, running and grabbing his arm. “Stop!”

“I can’t let him do this, fall deeper into this empty well of death he seems so desperate to drown in,” Bruce said. You still pulled despite him just dragging you with him. “I’m going, you can get in if you want but I’m going, the least I can do is make sure he is safe.” You knew he wasn’t going to relent so you climbed in the car with him.

“This will be the end of the killing you know,” you said softly. Bruce glanced at you as he drove.

“You don’t know that,” he said. You sighed. “Once you start…”

“He’s already killed Bruce, you know that, but has he ever killed someone who didn’t deserve it? Drug dealers trying to get kids hooked on crack? Dead, no great loss, he made the rules, they could sell but not to kids, seems fine to me. Poison Ivy had literally killed almost forty people in the Iceberg Lounge, once again, she shouldn’t get away with that. Joker has graveyards dedicated to just his victims, I’m pretty sure the world can turn better without him in it,” you ranted. “Just because you are one death away from becoming a heartless serial killer doesn’t mean he is.”

Bruce stopped the car in front of the amusement park and turned to you. You saw something in his face you hadn’t seen before, shame. Guilt, failure, remorse, not open shame.

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe the problem has always been me,” he said. You rolled your eyes, plenty over this sad guy routine that Bruce and Jason seemed to trade off with each other. They could be the same person if not for their taste in costumes.

“Let’s just go find him, and yes you were a problem, but you’re getting better so stop being so mopey,” you said, getting out of the car. Bruce followed you, turning back into his Batman persona. You grabbed your own gun that Jason insisted you carry everywhere, and you walked into the park. You had never thought you would be walking into the lair of the Joker with Batman by your side, what in the hell had become of your life?

“He was in the tunnel of love right?” Bruce asked. You nodded, wondering once again if Jason and Batman were the same with their flare for dramatics. You both entered and looked around for awhile before turning a corner on the dry track and finding Jason sitting on the edge of the track, legs dangling over the side. He was covered in blood just staring.

“Red Hood?” you asked softly as Bruce jumped out of the track and onto the landing. You didn’t care what was up there, you just wanted to make sure Jason was alright. He looked at you. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” he said. He sat quiet again as Bruce came back down into the track.

“Joker is dead,” he said. You could tell that you were right not to go up and see, Bruce looked a bit green. “You should go, I’ll call Gordon and make sure no one takes the…body.” You reached up and took Jason’s hand, gently pulling him with you. He walked out easy, seeming to be in a daze.

“Are you alright?” you asked as you got to his bike with him. He gave you the extra helmet he always had for you, and you put it on, climbing behind him. He turned back to look at you.

“Its quiet, my mind is quiet,” he said before taking off back to the manor.

Jason heard nothing. The silence was bliss. He knew that Bruce would never look at him the same after seeing how he had dismantled Joker, but he didn’t care. He could live with it, as long as he had this silence. He never needed to hear that laugh ever again, that monster couldn’t hurt him ever again. He had thought he would feel more remorse, maybe feel a twinge of guilt like he did whenever he had taken anyone else’s life, but no, this one just felt good. Felt right. He stood under the hot water of his shower, getting all the sweat and blood that had seeped through his uniform off his skin, wash away that maniac forever. He felt free. He climbed out of the shower, threw on some sleep shorts and headed into the bedroom. YN was sitting on the bed in her pajamas, and he stared at her, hoping he didn’t see fear in her eyes like he saw in Bruce’s.

**********

“Feel better?” she asked, meeting his eyes. She looked at him like he was the most gorgeous person to ever exist. He let out a relieved breath, she still loved him. He nodded and she stood, walking over to him and hugging him tight. He held her close, burying his face in the crook of her neck, inhaling her scent. He didn’t lose her; she was still here. His lips kissed at her neck, hands gripping her hips tight. He was overcome with need to feel her close, know that she still trusted him completely. She made a soft noise as she turned her head to catch his lips, kissing him deeply, fingers tugging at his hair a little. He moved her back to the bed, unsure why he hadn’t thought to take this step with YN before. She fell to sit back and looked up at him, those eyes making him weak in the knees. He leaned in, kissing her again as he pulled her shirt over her head, kissing down her neck as he moved to his knees. He spent time kissing over her breasts, taking one nipple into his mouth, rolling and gently biting it to drawn out a sinful moan from her mouth before moving to do the same to the other before sliding to kiss further down, pulling her shorts and underwear off as he went. He felt her fingers tangle into his hair as he kissed her thighs. She tugged his hair and he groaned, kissing closer to her core. When he first licked his tongue over her center, he heard her make the most amazing noise ever and he dove in, making sure she kept moaning and whispering his name like she was having trouble breathing. He looked up at her and saw her watching him, mouth hanging open a little, eyes glazed in pleasure, and he was finally rewarded when her head fell back and she cried out, him tasting her completely as she reached her peak. She panted as she came down from her high, sitting up to stare at him.

“You look so good,” he whispered standing again. She moved forward pulling off his own shorts and slid her mouth over his stiff member, tongue sliding up the underside as she bobbed her head. Jason stared down at her, mesmerized by the way she was moving, her eyes looking up at him. They looked so innocent and he nearly lost in at the sight. A noise tore from his throat, a groan he didn’t know if he’d ever made before and she pulled off him, pushing herself back on the bed.

“Come here Jason,” she said, reaching for him. He crawled over, settling over her, feeling her legs open for him as he himself gently against her core. She moaned softly as he entered her, staying still for a moment, relishing in how she felt around him, how her arms gripped his back, nails digging into the skin in a way that felt amazing. He kissed her again, but this kiss wasn’t so needy, this was love, this was a feeling he didn’t think existed, the feeling of pure happiness that he had never felt before.

“You’re perfect for me,” he said softly. YN smiled up at him and pulled him to kiss her again. “I love you.” Another kiss. Finally he moved, pulling almost all the way before pushing back in. He didn’t move fast, setting a pace where he buried himself deep inside her and she squirmed a little, helping him find exactly where she wanted him to strike. The pace quickened as they both started to chase their high. She was already so sensitive from his earlier ministrations that he could see her getting closer much faster than him. He smiled, loving that he made her feel this good, loving that the only word she seemed to know as his hips pushed to meet hers, was his name. She arched to him, nails scratching down his back as she cried out her climax. It was enough to quicken his, a few more thrusts and he reached his own peak, saying her name as he held himself inside her for a few moments. She hugged him close and kissed him again.

“I love you,” she whispered as he settled next to her, letting her go. “I’m going to shower, why don’t you get some sleep?” Jason nodded but didn’t fall asleep until she was back in his arms again, feeling light and free for the first time. He had no nightmares that night.

#jasontodd #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #redhood #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #brokenprism

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corazondebeskar-reads · 6 months

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Kinktober 2023 - Day 20: Thigh Fucking (Joel Miller)

a home amongst the stars

Jackson!Joel Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 1.1k

Summary: Joel gets home after a late patrol and finds solace in your warm body.

Warnings: Explicit content, consensual somnophilia, vaginal fingering, thigh fucking, pre-book with your dentist 'cause this shit is too sweet, soft!Joel, Joel Miller deserves nice things

Inspired by the Kinktober prompts from @absurdthirst

also on ao3

When Joel gets home from patrol, the moon hangs low on the horizon, swollen and copper. He stops outside the door, wondering if you saw it before you went to bed.

“Oh wow, honey,” you’d have said, smacking the back of your hand against his chest to get his attention, “Look at her tonight, isn’t she gorgeous?”

The way you’d stop and stare drove him nuts when you first met. Always wastin’ time, not paying attention to your surroundings, all over the fuckin’ moon.

He gets it now, he thinks. The way it’s always beautiful, no matter how many times you see it.

When he gets up to the bedroom, he strips out of his jeans and button-up. You’re sprawled over the side of the bed, twisted with your face smooshed into the pillow and an arm dangling. He slides in behind you, sheets cold from the autumn breeze.

You’re warm. He folds himself around you, pressing a kiss into your hair. The exhaustion fades a little when he feels the sheer heat coming from your cunt, where his hips are pressed close.

The two of you are like specters in the house, the only signs of another person found in a drying coffee cup on the counter or damp towel hanging over the shower.

Joel’s been doing doubles as a favor to one of the men in town whose wife just had a baby. It’s been over a week, and he’s only seen you like this. Fast asleep. He knows you’ve been missing him, and you clearly spent the evening with your fingers stuffed up your cunt until you were worn out.

He’s jealous. He'd jacked off in the shower a couple days ago, but as he watched his cum circle the drain, he knew he had lost the taste for it. His drive wasn’t what it used to be, so it wasn’t like he was achin’ by the end of every day. He’d rather wait until he could bury himself in you.

You snuggle back against him, ass rubbing against his cock. It had wised up to the situation, and you moan softly as he pushes his hips just so, nestling himself between your thighs and against your pussy.

He ran a hand over your arm and slid it down to your hip, smoothing over your soft belly. You’d been in Jackson for two years now, and it had done both of you good, bodies secure enough to hold on to muscle and fat.

He cups a breast and gently rolls your nipple, savoring your soft moan and the press of your hips before hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties, intent on tugging them down until he could press into you. You loved waking up that way, with him already buried in your cunt.

“Nuh-uh, baby,” you swat at his thigh with a limp hand. “Y’can’t, it’s too close.”

Joel whines, wrinkle between his brows deepening. There was, of course, a downside to your recovered health. Your cycle had started back up about a year ago, and given that neither of you were interested in the life a baby requires and condoms are as common as a carnival, you kept careful watch.

“Just—mmm, just keep doing that.” You twist a little to see him, the way the shadows fall over the creases of his face, smoothing a little when he looks down and sees you smiling at him softly in the moonlight.

He gently rocks back and forth, fully hard now that you’re up and interested. If he angles just right, he can bump the head of his cock against your clit. Even with your panties in the way, you throw your head back and give him all the pretty sounds he wants to hear.

“S’that feel good?” he asks, mouthing at your neck and jaw.

“So good, baby,” you reach around with your free arm and clutch the back of his head, fingers tangling in his soft hair.

He dips his hand in the front of your underwear and swipes his fingers through your folds. You cry out, and it warps into a desperate whine when he draws his fingers out. He strokes your slick over his cock so it moves with ease between your thighs.

“Please, Joel,” you say, squeezing your legs tight to trap him where you want him.

How can he not oblige? His name on your lips is so sweet. He gives you what you ache for, steady fingers stroking at your clit. You find your peak moments after, crying out for him.

He eases up a little but doesn’t stop—he doesn’t like to finish until he’s pulled two or three out of you, at least. Needs the way your body shakes and clenches and grabs for him when you fall apart. But you’re not having it tonight, whining as your oversensitive bud aches at his touch.

“S-sorry,” you gasp. “It’s too much. I didn’t—ah—didn’t know when we’d have a chance, so I took care of myself tonight.”

He withdraws his hand and wraps it around your hips. “I know, darlin’. You were all soaked when I got here. You know I can’t resist when you’re all wet and waitin’ for me.”

You open your mouth to apologize, but he leans down for a kiss, instead.

He kisses like he fucks—tender and deep. You’ve always marveled at the way his love is so tangible. It overflows out of him, and you yearn to drown in it.

His thrusts are getting a little sharper, a little desperate.

“Fuck, baby, you close?” you say.

He moans and presses his lips against yours again, licking in like he can take some of you for himself and keep it. He spills between your thighs, leaking onto the sheet, and holds you close against him.

When he’s spent, he keeps you close but lets you roll over to face him. You lean up and press a kiss between his brows. The line there is carved deep, you know you’ll never be able to smooth it out. Decades of worry have done more than you can fix. But it always softens a little, like he remembers to relax when you kiss it.

“You see the moon tonight, darlin’? It’s real pretty.”

You light up, eyes sleepy but bright, and scooch out of his grasp to pad over to the window. He follows you and wraps his arms around your chest while you raise the blinds.

“Oh, wow,” you breathe, reaching up to hold onto his arm with both hands, “wouldja look at that?”

He understands completely.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #soft joel miller #jackson!joel #the last of us fic #the last of us fanfic #kinktober 2023

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bookofbonbon · 1 year

Text

cycles - rafe cameron.

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader.

Warnings: Implied abusive/toxic relationship.

Summary: This cycle of love is not a happy one.

Word Count: 545.

A/N: Previously: all of my happiness/greatest pain. A rewrite of an old fic so, it'll read familiar to some of you.

The night air is cool against your skin, hair sweeping across your face with the wind, skin becoming irritated as the strands stick to your wet cheeks and remind you of your earlier fight with Rafe.

Yet another one to add to the endless list...

The pool water that sloshes around with the wind eventually stills and you’re no longer able to drown out the sound of your own thoughts.

You weren't sure when it all went wrong, began to fall apart. Maybe it was somewhere between high school and the beginning of his drug use? Or perhaps between when he dropped out of college and the end of your relationship...

You breathe a laugh, biting down on your bottom lip as a lump grows in your throat.

If someone asked, you'd never be able to them.

That's what you told yourself at least. You had to. It was too painful to admit that your relationship with Rafe had always been doomed from the start.

“What are you thinking so hard about over there?” Rafe calls from where he stands in the doorway.

He leans against its frame, making circles in the air at you with the knife he holds in one hand; the blade being used to cut up the apple he holds in his other hand.

Your eyes trail Rafe, watching as he pushes himself off the frame.

He walks slowly, purposefully, closer to the edge of the pool as he pushes a piece of apple between his lips and chews lazily. His eyes never straying from yours as he takes a seat in the pool chair directly across from you on the other side of the pool.

"Hm?" he prompts, cocking his head.

“I wish I could leave you,” you tell him, voice hoarse and eyes watery. “Put you behind me and never look back.”

A flicker of hurt shines through the cracks in the wall Rafe had put up between the two of you, a slight and sharp inhale through his nose that you would've missed if you hadn't known Rafe for as long as you did, as intimately as you do.

"Then go," Rafe sneers.

Your lips curl inwards, face crumpling as you look away to wipe at your fallen tears. The feeling burns your cheeks but, it was one you had become all too familiar with.

The long silence that hangs between the two of you eventually broken by the clatter of a knife and a quiet fuck.

Warmth soon wraps around you, Rafe finding his place behind you and gently pulling you back between his legs to lean against his chest, his arms encircling you in an embrace.

“I love you,” Rafe mumbles, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“You’re not supposed to hurt the people you love,” you remind him with a hiccup.

“I know,” he sighs. “I’m sorry.”

Your breath hitches, broken heart breaking just a little more than the last time. The familiar apology signalling the restart of the same cycle you had been stuck in with him for as long as you had known him.

"Me too," you whisper, only for your own ears.

An apology to yourself as you tilt your head back, looking up at Rafe with shining eyes and forgiving him.

All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.

Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.

#rafe cameron #drew starkey #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n

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cooki3face · 8 months

Text

Divine masculine & Divine feminine update / twin flame update 🖤 : 8/30/23

message: I’m using the same cover photo for my Instagram post when I repost it, I don’t know whose aunt and uncle this is but I’ve had this picture in my Pinterest board for a really long time and I really wanted to use it, I usually use gifs for my banners on my posts but I thought I’d start using pictures too because I have so many I want front and center and blown up big. The time has come again for another divine masculine/divine feminine twin flame update. I hope you can find something here that will allow you to find wholeness within yourself and calm the mind and spirit. Twin flame connections can be rough but if you have a twin flame of your own know how special you are to have someone and be a part of a collective where you share a soul with another person. You could say we are all soulmates because we are deeply connected to one another and all have the potential to connect on such a deep profound level but how often can you say you share a soul with someone… yeah, exactly. 🖤

***

divine feminine update:

Divine feminine is experiencing a lot of raw emotion coming to the surface here, she’s trying to be strong and trying to stay grounded and steady while the energy in the air right now is really tempting her to message her divine masculine or come out of her feminine energy and go to him. She’s feeling the retrograde very strongly and is waiting for this heavy energy to subside. All of this energy that it’s taking not to go to him, and all of this energy that it’s taking to sit with all of these feelings that are coming to the surface in regards to how much she misses her divine masculine and how much she wishes he was here is making her very tired and a little emotionally drained and unstable. In some moments, she’s fine and she’s flourishing and is in an energy of love and acceptance and is perfectly okay with sending her divine masculine love and care from a distance but then at other times she feels reminded of his absence in such a way that makes her feel very needy, uncomfortable, sad and impulsive. Sneezing, allergies, itchy eyes, itchy throat, and feelings of hunger even after eating are all feelings divine feminine is experiencing. Divine feminine may be on her period, nearing the end of it, or is about to start a period here. The moon is significant, her cycle may be synced up with the moon. Full moon energy is producing even more emotional energy to come to a head.

Divine masculine hasn’t left divine feminines mind in a long while. He’s always in the back of her mind and her feelings for him are in a sense boiling over. She’s feeling an extremely strong pull. She may be dreaming of him every night. Maybe even stalking his social media or attempting to do so, looking at the social media of his mutual friends as well. Divine feminine has been focused on her career and material life at this time as well. Some money may be coming in for her or she’s focusing on building a stable foundation for herself as she’s been. Divine feminine is trying to trust in the divine and find it within herself to surrender but there is fear here that the more she opens herself up to the connection and accepts how much she loves him he will get further and further away. It’s almost as if the law of attraction feels as though it’s working against divine feminine or so she feels like it is. She may feel as though the more she loves him or the more she leans into this connection and her desire to be with him the further away he gets or the more spirit pulls him away from her. She may feel as though her spirit guides are dangling a carrot in front of her or she may feel as though she’s constantly running in circles.

Divine feminine may need to slow down and work on remembering that the twin flame journey is more about her than it is about her divine counterpart. That the twin flame journey is more about coming home to oneself and not to her twin flame. Common cold symptoms, runny nose, itchy nose, and maybe even a slight cough may be something divine feminine is experiencing without completely being ill or sick. She may experience these symptoms early morning or at night and may be experiencing headaches or vivid and crazy dreams or nightmares as well as nausea. Cold feet, cold hands, pain in the feet or in the hands. Itchiness. Divine feminine needs to work on her fear of genuinely loving her divine masculine and being open and accepting of it after building up walls to protect this life or bury it deep within her for fear that she won’t receive him if she loves him too much or is too open to it. Feelings of love and longing are coming up to reveal truth within her. She may feel as though she’s ready to scream that she loves her divine masculine from the rooftops here as well. Spirit is advising divine feminine to please find time to do some shadow work and work through her emotions and feelings. Many divine feminines are busy and on the move at this time and need to be taking time to slow down and focus on what’s going on internally so they can show up as their best selves.

Divine feminine may be feeling disconnected from others, disconnected from the collective, and disconnected from herself and her spirit. Her longing and desire for her divine masculine is significant because it shines a light on a disconnect from her own soul here since they share the same core soul frequency or spirit. To want something outside of yourself is a projection of a feeling of lack within yourself. Spirit advises divine feminine to find some self-compassion and understanding here and release any fears and limiting beliefs about love and her connection with divine masculine, bridge the gap between you and him by not continuing to believe the human idea that we are separate and that the two of you are still two separate individuals instead of one. That may not make the most sense but it might make sense later. Divine feminine is feeling very moody and potentially even jealous or possessive over divine masculine at this time.

Learn to alchemize your energy divine feminine by taking what we feel are negatives and karmic energies and transforming them into light and love or finding compassion for those things and being able to release them. Understand that any third-party interferences or karmics are required to allow your divine masculine to open up his mind and heart to this connection further and this current karmic is doing you a favor whether or not she realizes this because she’s only making him love you and what to be near you even more. You had your own karmic relationships and while they were difficult remember how you felt, remember the way you missed your divine masculine, how long and uncomfortable those nights were, how much of a temporary fulfillment intimacy was with that person, how much tension and emotional distress it brought from within you all so that you can learn and open your heart further to your connection. Divine masculine experiences all the same things. Don’t think that just because he is somewhere else or with someone else that he is not always thinking of you or having a hard time. Send him your love and your care and find gratitude in your position in your life at this moment and continue growing. He will come to you again.

divine feminine to her divine masculine:

“You’re a witch.” lol, I find it hilarious when this message comes out, I think it’s very interesting that this is something that’s coming out of the divine feminine collective. It’s as if divine feminine is feeling her divine masculine so strongly that she is wondering what he’s doing to her over there to make her feel this way.

“Don’t give my love to anybody else.” Here’s where this sort of possessive energy is coming out very strongly here. Divine feminine wants to know how devoted her divine masculine is to her at this time because she can’t see it. It’s time for her to continue to step out of the human way of perception. To have faith in her love and in what she believes in here. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean it isn’t there. That is a fundamental principle for all these magical and energetically complex such as the twin flame connection. The twin flame connection teaches us unconditional love, it teaches us true hope and perseverance even when things are incredibly difficult.

“I want to be with you so bad but I feel like things are in my way.” And this could be very many things, third parties, emotions, fears, distance, social media access, etc She may feel as though divine masculine is hiding from her or purposefully trying to avoid how much she is able to observe here in a physical and tangible way. I hear divine masculine remembering the past and remembering how much heartbreak and pain divine feminine had to endure in times when his relationships and connections with karmics were public or him just living, posting pictures, or going out places were public. He is not only hiding but he is trying to shield her vision away from what is going on in the 3D because his spirit knows he must undergo such things or sit in certain predicaments to learn lessons.

“You have so much power over me.” Divine feminine further awakening to how much she loves her divine masculine or how much his energy and existence moves her after a long time of trying to ignore this or hide this from herself and from him by taking up tasks, busying herself with other things or even potentially people and telling herself that she doesn’t care as much as she does.

“I’m not done with you yet.” Divine feminine knows in her spirit he will be back again despite fears and ego-based blockages. She knows that they will reconcile and come back to one another soon.

“You make me feel weak in the knees, I don’t want you to see that.” More hiding. Divine feminine and divine masculine mirror one another in trying to hold each other from seeing what is going on within their hearts and minds for fear they’ll be too exposed or feel too vulnerable. Divine masculines karmic energies reflect back to divine feminine her own. She must acknowledge those karmic energies and fears and find understanding and forgiveness and release them.

Detachment- “I had to let this go so I could clear my mind.”

New chapter- “I am trying to move on.”

Reunion- “we will always come back to each other.”

Confusion- “I feel unclear about where we stand.”

Soul tie- “ I always feel connected to you.”

Guilty- “ I feel pain from the damage I have caused.”

𝐴𝑓𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛: “𝐼’𝑚 𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑦. 𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒, 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑔𝑖𝑣𝑒 𝑚𝑒. 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢.”

***

divine masculine update:

Divine masculine is going through a lot right now. He’s ready to reconcile and apologize and take accountability for his actions. He’s done fighting, running around in circles, running from you, running from this connection. It’s almost as if he’s decided what he’s going to do he just has to figure out how he’s going to do it or how he’s going to go about it. This divine masculine puts on a really good poker face. He’s really good at facades and making things seem like they’re completely different than what they’re really like, or he’s really good at hiding the way he feels and making it seem like his emotions and desires don’t exist. I’m hearing he’s been pretending for a long time.

I’m getting imagery of Phantom of the Opera. I don’t even know what phantom of the opera is about, if you do or you know what the character is like from that Novel/opera please let me know. Or comment it in the replies so that everyone else can see as well. This divine masculine is really ready to move here or he’s coming into this energy of movement and I know that we’ve talked about this before multiple times here but I see this energy of your divine masculines true enemy being himself in one way or another. He feels tempted or he feels ready to come in or ready to move but his fear is the enemy, his ego is the enemy. He’s never been afraid of anything more than he is afraid of losing you or your rejection. It’s almost as if divine masculine is saying “I’m doing what I do because I’m afraid to lose you but if I keep doing this I know I’ll probably lose you anyways.” It’s almost ironic.

He doesn’t want you to go away. He doesn’t want you to slip through his fingers here, and he knows that creating space or running from you in the past has made it so that you felt needy or wanted to be around him and be with him even more and he could pick up on that energy from within. But the tables are turning here, he knows that you aren’t chasing him anymore and the ball is in his court here and he’s going to have to make a choice and surrender. Divine masculine is the runner in this dynamic. Or he was for a very long time, but look whose running now. You. And he feels that, he feels the loss and the longing and this switch makes him all the more compassionate for you and towards you and therefore brings him closer. Now it’s your turn to assess your fears and open yourself up to this and surrender. When he surrenders he will come in. When you surrender you will receive.

He feels alone although he is in the company of others or even a third party here. It’s like he’s coming to terms with the fact that your connection and the love you share is a long term investment and if he comes forward it has to be done right and he needs to be ready to give it everything he’s got. He knows the karmic relationship he’s in at the moment is temporary. I hear him telling you the connection was never meant to be forever or meant to be long term but it was convenient for him and it was a symbol of a deep karmic habit he needed to purge out and those moments of peace and quiet within you and those moments where you’re not concerned with this karmic or this relationship is the wholeness and knowing and awareness that he will come back to you and that this connection is temporary and that she is the representation of a karmic habit or an internal wound.

He’s about to come up with a way to communicate with you or an idea of how to come towards you. Or he will be given an opportunity from the universe. He may see you outside somewhere and pull you aside or show up somewhere where you’re at. He feels a little down on his luck right now and weighed down by the weight of this separation and he’s feeling as though it’s time for this karmic cycle to end. He’s about to break this cycle once and for a all and when he comes in it’s going to be very quick. I know we’ve been over this before and said all of this before but this Pisces moon / blue moon will most likely be a time of reunion for many twin flames here, and he may very well come in during this blue moon. Hearing blue moon by Billie holiday. His act of movement or him taking action will be out of love for himself and for you.

He’s about to bring in Justice to this connection.

The fall and winter months keep coming up again, he wants to spend the holidays with you or he thinks of you when it rains. You may think of him when it rains as well.

divine masculine to his divine feminine:

“The universe is protecting us.”

“I want to text/call but I don’t know what to say.”

“Please forgive me.”

“Don’t give my love to anybody else.” The synchronicities!!! You could be saving yourself for this divine masculine here or he’s hoping you are saving yourself for him. Not talking to anybody, not looking at anybody else, not sleeping with anybody else.

“I can feel you touching yourself to me.” He’s clearly very passionate. Give that man what he wants when he comes home lol.

“When I see you again, I’m going to show you just how much I love you.” He’s going to be big about it. Gifts, physical affection, everything!

“You make me feel weak in the knees, I don’t want you to see that.” Again, mirroring one another, hiding. Hiding how much you affect each other, hiding how much you love each other, hiding how you two truly feel.

Detachment- “I had to let this go so I could clear my mind.”

Responsibilities- “ I have to take care of my financial and emotional needs.”

Third party- “there were other things that got in the way of us being together.”

Shadow side- “you made me realize my flaws.”

Habits- “I don’t know if we will ever change.”

Dishonesty- “by lying I ripped us apart.”

Hope- “I haven’t given up on us yet.”

Overwhelmed- “the stress from this is draining me.”

Gossip- “I’m afraid of what other people will think.” Divine masculine has some sort of reputation, fear of looking vulnerable or having a weakness he feels someone will try and take or bring harm to in order to hurt him. This really reminds me of the song “Mercedes” by Brent faiyaz and these lyrics

𝐴𝑓𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛: “𝐼 𝑎𝑚 𝑟𝑒𝑡𝑢𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑏𝑎𝑐𝑘 ℎ𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑚𝑦𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓.”

***

Channeled extras:

Nostalgia, angel numbers, 222,333,444,555, fall and winter months, smooth jazz, rainy weather, vacation, honey moons, Seattle, lost AirPods, October 3rd, November 26,27,29th, September, July 4th, spotify, shared playlist, shared music, ceramics, art, drawings, poetry and creative writing

Songs 🎶:

Blue Moon - Billie Holiday

All of Me - Billie Holiday

April in Paris - Billie Holiday

Solitude - Billie Holiday

I Fall In Love Too Easily - Chet Baker

#self love #self improvement #dream girl #self expression #healingjourney #self care #self discovery #self healing #manifestation #divine feminine #divine masculine #twin flame #twin flame update #Spotify

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captain-mj · 1 year

Note

I CANNOT get kraken Price and sailor Graves out of my head…. Just something about the size difference and the monster fucking is so good. Sooo two month mating cycle? Wanna expand a bit 🫣?

I am always willing to expand, hell fucking yeah.

Price looked at the human currently sleeping in his lap. His arms were wrapped around Price’s torso, gently holding him closer like he might be swept away by the tide.

After some brief discussion and Price realizing he couldn’t keep Graves in the water the entire time, he found a alcove they could stay in. It was a section of the beach that made a semi circle, leaving plenty of room for Graves to sit on land while still letting Price be able to grab him whenever.

And he did grab him whenever. As long as Graves wasn’t eating or asleep, he was free game and Graves didn’t seem to mind. It had been a week, but he seemed content at the moment.

He had called Price over to hold him as he slept, looking very tired. Graves had laid his head in Price lap and fell asleep.

Price worried he was doing too much to him. Strings of bruises littered his body, along with an assortment of teeth marks and hickeys. Yes, he made sure Graves thoroughly enjoyed himself when they had sex, but still.

Graves started to wake up, stretching and slowly lifting himself from Price’s lap. He winced as he moved.

“Are you alright?”

“Sore. I loved it at the time, but I don’t think I can bend that much.” He moved to straddle Price’ “Need me?”

All thoughts of concern flew out the window because Price needed him so damn much. He took what Graves said into consideration though and when he tangled him in his tentacles, he kept him in a much comfier position. Legs spread gently and arms held above his head, making sure all of his weight was supported.

At first, he used his fingers, making sure Graves was still open from before. His humans moaned and wiggled excitedly and Price had to hold him tight to keep his hips from moving. When he was sure Graves could still handle him, he put him in his lap and gently slid him down onto his large cock. Graves pressed his face to his shoulder and relaxed, letting Price move him up and down like he was a sex toy. It took a minute before he bottomed out and Graves was already a mess.

“So good for me.” Price murmured, kissing along his throat gently.

“Don’t know how I can go back to humans after this.” Graves admitted shakily, shivering when Price pressed against a sensitive spot in his body.

Oh. Right.

This would end.

Price thrust into him hard and Graves wailed, thrashing slightly. “Don’t know how I will either. You’re so much tighter.” He twirled the tentacle in Graves, pressing hard against his prostate and going deep enough that he saw stars. “So much warmer. Like you were made by the stars specifically for me.”

Price knew he was being a little too rough. Later, Graves would limp and he’d feel bad but that was later. Right now, he wanted to forget that there was anything besides right now and he wanted Graves to forget too.

It was clearly working if the sobs and glazed expression were anything to go off of. His little moans and whimpers doing things to Price. Maybe he could keep him like this. Always filled by one of his tentacles, unable to think long enough to complain or escape.

Graves leaned forward, sloppily kissing along his jaw. So sweet. So very human.

No. He couldn’t be so selfish.

Graves came with a sob, nails digging in to the tentacles that were binding him as Price sought release. The pleasure was building, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the bulge in Graves’s stomach. He could see where he was tearing Graves to shreds. Could also see his leaking cock where Graves was enjoying it.

“Please. Please.” Graves whined to him and Price was worried it was too much. “Don’t stop.”

Price felt himself start to drool. He bit his shoulder, continuing. Graves was so warm and tight and soft inside. His hips started to stutter as he came in him, but he didn’t stop, like he was asked. He fucked the cum deeper and deeper into him, even as it started to leak from his body.

Graves trembled at the feeling, holding him as tight as he could. “If I wasn’t human, is this how you’d treat me?” Price couldn’t help it. He was being far, far too rough but with Graves speaking to him like this, he couldn’t help it.

“No. I wouldn’t cuddle you afterwards.” They’d be underwater and it would last a lot longer, but Price was a bit worried about Graves eventually needing to eat to do that. Also the whole He couldn’t breath under water thing.

Graves smiled, tears streaming down his face as he angled his face closer. He was being so good, taking everything Price had to offer. “Your species not do that?”

“No. But I don’t mind cuddling with you. Does it hurt?”

“Yes, but I don’t want it to stop.” Graves panted softly, their mouth so close together Price could feel it. “Feel empty when you pull out.”

Price slowed his frantic thrusting to instead gently roll his hips, making Graves whimper. “I got you. You just stay like this, doll. Long as you need.”

Graves nodded, body shaking. He clenched and Price jerked into him, pulling a moan out of him.

Price pet his hair, laying back and releasing Graves so he could wrap his arms around him again. He occasionally rocked into him, still achingly hard, but the pressure felt so nice.

Graves kissed him softly, holding his face. “Can you crash another ship to see if they have more of those cookies you got me?”

“Course.” He’d crash as many as he needed to find them. “Want me to see if they have any books too?”

Graves nodded. “Gets boring when you’re not around.”

“I try to stay on the surface as much as i can.”

“I know the sun bothers you, don’t worry. I sleep most of the day anyway.” Graves gently kissed along his jaw, almost lazily

Price put his hands Graves’s back, closing his eyes. “I could get used to this.”

Graves didn’t say anything back.

#cod #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #Phillip graves #John Price #Captain John Price #Price x Graves #Graves x Price #kraken price

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tropes-and-tales-archives · 4 months

Text

Whistle Down the Wind, Chapter Twelve

Word Count: 3155

TW: Idiots in love, mild angst.

AN: Part of a series. The series masterlist here.

You and Sonny eventually drifted to his bedroom, and you were both sound asleep well before midnight. You were exhausted from your flight. He was exhausted from being away from you for almost a year. Sonny didn’t think he ever had such a good night’s sleep – you in one of his oversized t-shirts, your arms and legs entangled with his. It was a wonderful way to start a new year.

You groused good-naturedly the next morning as Sonny made breakfast. You sat on the kitchen counter and watched him mix the batter for some pancakes, and he stole as many kisses from you as he dared despite his growling stomach. Eat, or take you back to bed. An impossible choice.

“We’re worse than an old married couple,” you grumbled at him. “That was the first time that I’ve ever missed midnight on New Year’s Eve.”

His heart clenched at your casual use of the word ‘married.’ “There’s lots of new years, depending on which calendar you follow,” he pointed out. He poured two perfect circles of batter into the sizzling pan, then leaned in for another kiss. “I’ll make it up to you.”

-----

It wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows at first.

With Nicole, Sonny was always tip-toeing around her moods. He was afraid to get it wrong because he had a mental image of what he wanted his relationship to look like. He had pictured cooking together and sharing little moments that could be a foundation to build a life on. That wasn’t how it worked out with Nicole, and at first, it didn’t work out that way with you either.

You weren’t used to living with another person. Where Sonny kept to a schedule, you moved more in cycles. It was your artistic nature, he figured. You’d let chores pile up and then tackle them all at once. You’d sit down for a twelve-hour day of scoring some new project and forget to eat. You woke up with a start sometimes, then scramble off to your makeshift studio in his living room to write down the melody you’d heard in your dreams before it slipped away.

Those weren’t bad things, in Sonny’s estimation. It was just different, living with a person of your schedules and temperament. He got used to it. You got used to him.

The other things? They were wonderful. Every moment with you was like the life he had pictured, and he didn’t know why he never saw what was right in front of him for all those lost years.

You were a decent cook in your own right, and you kept him fed when work was crushing him. You curled up on the couch with him and watched movies together: if the movie was good, you finished it, and if the movie was bad, you just ended up making out like a pair of teenagers.

Sometimes he came home beaten down by the world he worked in. He had to hide those bleak moods from Nicole, but he didn’t have to hide them from you. You always tried to get him to talk about it, and sometimes he did. You’d scratch his head in that soothing way you had and let him spill out all the darkness he accumulated in the day.

When he didn’t want to talk, you never pressed him. But you also never left him, either. Sometimes you just pulled him to you in bed, held him against you. Sometimes you harried him into the shower, and you’d jump in with him. Under the stream of hot water, you lathered him up and shampooed his hair and kissed him gently everywhere. It wasn’t sexual, but Sonny never felt so loved as when you did that for him. Those fingers of yours could coax music from any instrument, and they could coax all the misery from his body until he felt buoyant.

*****

Your first fight as a couple came a few months later.

The sublet on your old apartment was nearly up, so you flew out to L.A. to box up and ship the rest of your stuff. You had it all shipped to your loft in New York – not Sonny’s apartment. He took that as some sort of indictment on him.

“Why didn’t you ship it here?” he asked one night, and his voice didn’t have its trademark sunniness. Sometimes he flirted with arguing, and you thought it might be because you had left him for a year. As much as he had assured you it was fine, you thought it might not be.

“There’s no room here,” you pointed out as reasonably as you could. It was true. Sonny’s place was small.

He huffed irritably, and you just waited. He’d either argue or not. You let him set the pace he needed.

“Are you moving back to your place?” he finally asked. There it was: he was waiting for you to abandon him again.

You felt your own flair of irritation. You had busted your ass in L.A. to cram as much business into a year – less than a year – so that you could get back to him. It wasn’t your fault that he had kept you at arm’s length for years so that he could date mean, hot girls.

“I have too much stuff, Sonny. Instruments, recording equipment, speakers. Furniture, my record collections…”

“We could make it work here.”

You sighed. “Where would I practice though?”

Space aside, Sonny had a downstairs neighbor who was unreasonable about noise. You tried to keep your cello practice limited to reasonable hours – noon to five, say – but the old bat still screamed up at you. She already called the cops twice. Your loft was in a building full of eccentrics and fellow musicians, and no one there batted an eye at noise.

You had planned on keeping your loft as a sort of storage space and practice area. A place to work, while you stayed with Sonny. It wasn’t practical financially, but you knew that Sonny would take it personally either way. There’d be late nights up recording, after all. Nights where you stayed in your own bed instead of his. He’d feel each night apart like a life sentence.

He was already feeling it. You watched him, and his blue eyes looked furious. At you or at himself, you weren’t sure. His jaw was clenched, and you could tell that he was holding back.

You sighed again. You were tired. “Say what you’re thinking, Sonny. Just spit it out.”

He turned to look at you. “You’re still punishing me.”

“I’m not!” You crossed your arms and leaned against the kitchen counter.

“You are. You’re still pissed that I took so long to get my shit together, and you’re taking it out on me now.”

“That’s not it at all – “

“Yes, it is.”

You threw your hands up helplessly. “Fine! Whatever! But you’re still pissed at me for going to L.A. in the first place.”

It was his turn to look exasperated. “That’s not true. I’m proud of the work you’ve done – “

“But you felt abandoned.” You cut him off, and he stared at you a moment before he nodded slightly. So that’s what it was all about.

You walked over to him and took one of his hands in between both of yours. “Stretch.” You gazed up at him until he looked into your eyes. “Are you worried I’m going to leave again?”

Another pause, then another nod. You could see his point. He worked in a world where the bottom dropped out all the time: lives were shattered, cases fell apart, the bad guy got away. It was hard for him to have faith that good things could happen and remain.

It was easy to forget the toll his job took on him. Your work could be stressful, but it was all deadlines and imposter syndrome. Stuff like that. If you lost out on work, you moved on to another project.

You raised his hand to your mouth and kiss the back of it. “Sonny, this isn’t a personal thing. This is just…logistics. Your place is small and you have a witch that lives below you.” He snorted at that, and you continued.

“My place is good-sized, and I can work out of it. It’d be expensive, so it makes sense to just keep my stuff there. If I sleep there sometimes, it’s not a judgement against you.”

“I don’t want to sleep apart ever again,” he said. His voice sounded so sad, you kissed his hand again.

“Then we’re at an impasse,” you told him gently. “Unless we take a third path.”

“Which is?”

You smiled up at him. “Which is, we get our own place together. We can deal with some logistic issues while we look for the perfect place together, right?”

He tilted your head and kissed you lightly. “Yes, we can,” he murmured against your lips. “But I still don’t want to sleep without you.”

“Then you’ll have to resign yourself to the occasional night sleeping at my place,” you teased. He kissed you again, more firmly this time before he broke away.

“Deal.”

*****

It wasn’t easy, the back-and-forth. Sonny saw your point, of course: life and logistics got in the way sometimes. He knew you stressed about your lack of cello practice, and he knew you rushed some parts of your current projects to get back to his place in time to go to bed. Still, there were nights you inevitably spent apart, and he could barely sleep when they happened.

You told him all the time that you were in it for the long haul, but Sonny still worried. Constantly. He was in unfamiliar territory. He had known you longer than any other woman he dated, but he had dated you for the shortest amount of time. He had seen you seriously injured; you were proposing to buy a place together. All the steps were out of order. At what point should he propose? Was there an amount of time he should wait?

He tried to talk to Bella and Tommy for guidance over dinner. Even though she was his younger sister, she was an old married woman and had life experience that he didn’t.

“Just ask her when it feels right,” Bella said. She rolled her eyes at his anxiety – Tommy had been her only real boyfriend, so she didn’t understand Sonny’s concerns. “Tommy just asked me one day over lunch.”

“Don’t do that,” Tommy cautioned him. “Your engagement story is what people judge you by. I’ll never live mine down.”

Bella kissed the top of his head as she cleared away the dirty dinner plates. “It was sweet.”

“I proposed over capicola subs, Bella,” Tommy called after her.

“I probably won’t do that,” Sonny admitted, but he left their apartment without much added insight.

-----

The months passed, and the two of you settled into a wonderful sort of life. You were still halfway between his place and yours, but Sonny accepted the rare night apart because you did try so hard to make it home to him. And he spent a few nights in your loft too.

The search for a place together moved slowly. You needed space, and space was at a premium in New York. You didn’t seem concerned about prices as much as he was – neither of you had discussed finances, and Sonny knew you’d amassed an impressive little nest egg from your work. He didn’t know if you wanted to rent or buy, and that question added even more anxiety. If you bought, would you handle all of the down payment? Would he split the mortgage with you? Would both names go on the deed? His stomach churned with nervousness, but he tried to hide it from you.

He got home early one evening, and his arms were laden down with groceries. He had been putting in late hours, and he had the idea to make you a nice dinner. When he got home, though, you were already well into your own plans.

Sonny watched you in his kitchen for a moment, a smile ghosting on his lips. You were dancing in your bare feet, singing along with the song streaming from your phone. Here was the life he wanted. It was right in front of him. All the stuff he worried about was just logistics, as you said.

He walked into the kitchen, and you caught the motion out of the corner of your eyes. You turned and smiled at him, and your smile made him feel like the most important person. Like you’d been waiting all day to see him.

“Hey!” You sat down the spoon you were stirring with, and you rocked onto your toes to wrap your arms around his neck. You pulled him down to your level and laid a smacking his on his cheek, the sort that made him laugh. “Put your stuff down. I got something to show you.”

He put away his groceries and shed his jacket, and then he came to join you. You had all four burners of the stove going, and you moved around all the pots and pans much like you did when you conducted your pieces of music. With steady hands and a slight flourish. Sonny smiled to see it.

He saw the pasta ready to be boiled, the sauce simmering. A salad mixed and ready to eat. You grabbed a spoon and removed the lid to the sauce pot, and you ladled out a meatball. You handed it to him on the spoon and stared at him expectantly. “Try it. It’s a new recipe.”

Sonny blew on it and waited for it to cool. “Ma still won’t give you her recipe?” he teased. His mother was guarded with the family recipes. There was a story there, some third cousin who tried to sell the marinara recipe to a chain restaurant.

“Don’t need it, stretch. This is a better recipe.” He scoffed – this was dangerous grounds he was treading on. He took a careful bite. Chewed. Swallowed. Considered it. Took another, bigger bite.

“It’s good,” he mumbled through his mouthful. “Actually, it’s really good.” It was. The flavor, the texture….he reached past you and snagged another meatball, and he blew on it for a moment – then ate it hot, let it burn the roof of his mouth.

“Damn,” he said. “Where’d you get the recipe?”

You grinned at him. “Cookbook. And my own special twists.” You ticked off on your fingers all of your modifications: you switched the garlic powder with roasted garlic paste, and you reduced the oregano to allow the other spices to come through. “And I broiled them in the cast iron skillet to get a crust before I finished them in the sauce,” you added. Sonny grinned at your pleased look of satisfaction. You were always trying to live up to his mother’s cooking.

“You don’t know the trouble you’ve caused,” he said, pulling a serious face. “Do you understand the chaos that comes from an Italian boy finding a meatball recipe better than his ma’s?”

“Uh-oh.”

“Yeah, ‘uh-oh’ is an understatement.”

You crossed your arms and leaned against the counter. You shot him a skeptical look. “What recourse do I have? Gather the five families? Prepare for war?”

“You know nothing of Italian culture,” he replied sadly. “It’s not all mafia movies.” You snorted, and he continued.

“If you knew anything, you’d know that it’s a very special time in an Italian boy’s life, when he finds the meatball to usurp his mother’s meatballs.”

You laughed at his serious tone. “It’s the day that the Italian boy becomes a man,” you joked.

“I’m obligated to marry you now,” he joked back. He stepped over to you, and you uncrossed your arms to lay your palms along his chest. “It’s an ancient tradition.”

You laughed again, ran your nails against his pectorals. “Such a complicated culture, Sonny. I’ll point out that you’re Italian-American though.”

He nodded in agreement and gazed down at you. “So marry me then,” he said.

You smiled and shook your head. “You’re funny.” You stood on your tiptoes to kiss him on his cheek, and you went to pull away, but he held you to him. He felt a tightness in his throat, and it was a struggle to get the words out.

“Marry me,” he said, and he knew he struck the wrong tone. He tried again. “Marry me?”

It was probably the choked quality to his voice that got your attention. Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, and then you seemed to realize that he was serious.

“Sonny, are you – are you for real?”

He nodded, cleared his throat. “I mean, I didn’t know how to ask. But I’ve had the ring for ages.” He couldn’t read your expression – you seemed frozen in place, like someone had hit the pause button on you.

“No pressure,” he added hastily. “To answer me, I mean. Or – actually, pretend I didn’t say anything. I was just, you know. Really happy about the meatballs.” The longer you just stared at him, the more he babbled, trying to backtrack.

“Is marriage to only way to avoid a turf war with your ma?” you joked weakly. Sonny felt sick in the pit of his stomach, and he nodded so that he didn’t have to speak. Of course you weren’t going to marry him – you were going to leave him, you always were going to leave him –

You cut him off from his runaway thoughts. “Because I’d marry you either way, Dominick Carisi Junior,” you whispered, and he looked down to see you gazing up at him, your eyes wide and swimming with tears. “If you really meant it, I mean.”

The sick feeling fled, and he felt almost light-headed. “Of course I mean it. You’re my best friend and the love of my life. I want to be married to you yesterday.”

You let out a choked sort of sob at that, and it was all a blur after that – him scooping you into his arms as you cried, and then him crying too, and then happy kisses that turned rapidly more heated. He ended up carrying you back to his bedroom, where he stripped you of every stitch of clothing and then slid the engagement ring onto your finger – the ring he had bought almost a year ago.

And then you made love – first frenzied, then more leisurely – and by the time you both were harried to the kitchen by your grumbling stomachs, the meatballs were long ruined by overcooking, and your first meal as an engaged couple was a side salad and slices of Italian bread. To Sonny, sitting across from you in his Fordham t-shirt and your panties, it was as good as any feast he’d ever eaten.

#sonny carisi #sonny carisi imagine #sonny carisi x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction #tropes and tales

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ilovedthestars · 9 months

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Hello there, I am a space nerd, a fact I’m sure no one guessed from the fact that I go by Stars on the internet. I am here to explain how the moon works, because I think it’s cool and also something that most people don't know. This is mostly an infodump just for fun, but may also be vaguely useful for artists, writers & stargazers.

By “how the moon works,” I mean that although pretty much everyone knows about the moon’s phases, not everyone really gets how they affect things like when & where the moon is in the sky. See: the common idea that the sun is in the sky in the day, and the moon is in the sky at night. You know this isn’t strictly true if you’ve ever seen the moon in the sky in the daytime, but do you know how it actually works? If I gave you a moon phase and a time of day, would you be able to tell me whether the moon was in the sky or not?

I am here to (hopefully) explain how you can do that! With scribbly diagrams! Please join me under the readmore if you would like to come to my TED talk.

First of all, to avoid any accidental curse-of-knowledge assumptions on my part, let me define some terms!

First off, the phases of the moon, which you probably know most of, but bear with me. A “full moon” is when the moon is fully illuminated and appears as a circle in the sky. A “gibbous moon” is when the moon is more than half full, but not completely full—it appears large and roundish, but not a circle (not everyone knows the name for this one). A “half moon” is when the moon is half illuminated and appears as a semicircle—this one has some other names that I’ll get to in a second. A “crescent moon” is when the moon is less than half illuminated and appears as a concave curve. A “new moon” is when the moon is completely dark from Earth’s perspective and can’t be seen in the sky.

Also, “waxing” is when the moon is transitioning from new to full, or getting bigger in the sky, and “waning” is when the moon is transitioning from full to new, or getting smaller in the sky.

Speaking of “half moon,” I frequently confuse friends by calling this a “first quarter” or a “third quarter” moon. Those names refer not to the illumination of the moon but to the full cycle of phases. If you think of the moon phases as split into four quarters, starting from zero at a new moon, then halfway to full is 1/4, full is 1/2, halfway back to new is 3/4, and then we’ve reached the end/beginning of the cycle with another new moon. So one of the half moons is a first quarter moon, and the other (with the other half illuminated) is a third quarter moon.

This is where I have to add a disclaimer—I am in the northern hemisphere, and I am familiar with astronomy in the northern hemisphere. If you are in the southern hemisphere, to you, I am looking at the moon “upside down.” Yes, really. If you’re using my diagrams, flip them upside down. I’ll try to be clear when I’m talking about stuff that flips between the hemispheres, but it’s something that I struggle to wrap my head around too, so apologies if I’m confusing or miss something.

So, here’s a diagram of the moon phases to show you the difference between first and third quarter moons, but if you’re in the southern hemisphere, please flip it over to see what they would look like for you. (The chronological order still goes in the same direction as the arrow, the moon itself is just the other way in the sky.)

The fun trick I was taught to remember which way the cycle goes is “light from the right.” (Southern hemisphere people, you’ll have to flip this one.) Light, or shadow, moves from the right edge of the moon to the left. So if the moon is a crescent and the right edge is lit up, it’s waxing, or moving towards full. If the moon is a gibbous with a dark right edge, it’s just past full and will be waning towards the third quarter over the next few days. If you look at the diagram above (and imagine the crescent and gibbous phases transitioning in between), this might be easier to imagine.

Like I said, for the southern hemisphere this would actually be “light from the left.” If you’re near the equator and the moon is overhead, you could use “light from the west,” because that’s secretly the real rule. Another thing that’s useful to know for stargazing—the moon, sun and planets follow a path in the sky called the ecliptic, which is roughly over the equator. (Not exactly—it wiggles around relative to earth’s surface, because of the tilt of the earth’s axis that causes the seasons, but it stays near the equator.) If you’re standing in the northern hemisphere, the equator is south of you, so the ecliptic is also in the southern part of the sky. When you look at the moon, it will always be in the south, so the west-facing side of the moon will always be to your right. Likewise, if you’re in the southern hemisphere, the moon (and sun, and planets) will always appear in the northern half of the sky, so west will be to your left. Light moves across the moon’s surface from the west to the east.

Now you can impress people by looking at the moon and saying, “Oh look, what a lovely waxing gibbous!” (I don’t actually know if the is impressive, but I do it all the time. For bonus points, get an app on your phone that tells you the phase of the moon and check it frequently so you can plan when to stargaze. Then you can casually mention that the moon will be full in a couple days when it’s not even in the sky, and maybe people will think you’re a werewolf.)

Now that I’ve explained the moon’s phases, I get to explain how they’re related to the time and place that the moon is in the sky. See, most people (I assume) don’t think twice about things like, say, a book describing a crescent moon in the sky overhead at midnight. But that actually can’t happen! And it has to do with the moon’s position in the 3D solar system, and how that maps onto our sky. This is kind of hard for me to explain without a lot of 3D hand gestures and pointing at the sky, but I’m gonna do my best to show it in two dimensions.

So, most people probably know that the moon’s phases are caused by the sun’s light illuminating half of the moon, and since the relative positions of the moon, sun & earth change throughout the month, the half that’s illuminated moves around the moon and changes how it looks from our viewpoint. So, a very basic rule: the side of the moon that’s illuminated is the side that’s facing the sun.

So, when the moon is full, that’s because the side that faces us is also facing the sun. This means the sun is directly opposite the moon. Here’s a very scientific diagram:

In case it’s not clear, this is a “top-down” view of the solar system where the moon, earth and sun are all in the same plane (in this case it doesn’t matter if we’re looking at the north or south pole, the positions would look the same). It’s also obviously not to scale and very simplified, but the point is to demonstrate that the moon is opposite the earth from the sun.*

The little person on the earth is of course spinning around as the earth rotates once per day. But at this point in the lunar month, you can see that when they are on the side of the earth where they can see the moon, they are also on the side facing away from the sun. When the moon is full or close to full, it’s opposite the sun—it rises around sunset, sets around sunrise, and is at its peak in the sky around midnight. This is how lots of people tend to think of the moon rising and setting, but it’s only true when the moon is close to full!

If that doesn’t make sense, here’s a diagram of when the moon is at the opposite point in its cycle, a new moon:

When the moon is new, the side that faces the earth is dark, which means the opposite side is facing the sun. The moon is on the same side of earth as the sun is. The little person spinning around the earth won’t see the moon in the night sky, because the moon is close to the sun in the sky,* and it’s actually rising in the morning and setting in the evening at this time of the month! You can’t easily see the moon when it’s new, but it might be visible a few days before or after this as a crescent. You’ll only see a crescent moon in the sky during the day, or close to dawn/dusk—it will be close above the horizon where the sun has just set or is about to rise. (The light edge faces the sun, so if it’s near the horizon in twilight sometimes it will look like the light edge is actually pointing down, with the tips of the crescent pointing up in the sky.)

*A side note on eclipses: My diagram is oversimplified! The moon, earth and sun aren’t actually all in the same plane all the time, they’re slightly misaligned. So even when I say the moon and sun are “directly” opposite each other, or aligned, they aren’t lined up perfectly enough to cast shadows on each other most of the time. When they do line up perfectly at the right time, that’s when you get a solar eclipse (when the moon is new) or lunar eclipse (when the moon is full).

Okay, so when the moon is full it’s in the sky at night, and when the moon is new it’s in the sky during the day. What about in between? This is where it gets a little confusing, especially for those of you in the southern hemisphere, who are going to have to flip everything I say. Apologies in advance, but it kind of hurts my head even to explain how this works in my own half of the sky.

So, when the moon is half-full, at the first quarter and third quarter of the phase cycle I explained above, the sun’s light is coming (from our perspective) from the side. The moon is ninety degrees away in its orbit from full or new, and the sun’s light is effectively perpendicular to our viewpoint, instead of parallel. This time it matters which way we’re looking, so these are a top-down view from the northern-hemisphere side. If you’re in the southern hemisphere, I think you can flip which is the first & third quarter to make this accurate.

As you can see, when our little person is spinning around the globe, they’re going to be seeing the moon high in the sky right around the line between night and day. From a northern perspective, the earth spins counter-clockwise (vice versa from the south), so if you picture the person spinning around their little earth, you can see that the first quarter moon is going to be visible when they’re spinning from light to dark (sunset) and the third quarter moon is going to be visible when they’re spinning from dark to light (sunrise).

Bonus fun trick: If you remember the rule of “light from the right” in the northern hemisphere and how that determines the order of the phases, and look at these diagrams again, you can figure out which direction the moon orbits the earth from this viewpoint. (This is, in fact, the only way I can remember which direction the moon orbits the earth, despite being far more complicated than just memorizing it. If you’d like to make a game of it, I’ll put the answer at the bottom of the post).

Remembering how this looks from this top-down floating-above-the-earth perspective is hard, but you don’t really have to. I only explained it so it would make sense when I went back to my earlier visualization, from when I was explaining how “light from the right” works. I’m a very spatial learner, and I like picturing things relative to my own body, so this is how I remember when the different phases of the moon appear in the sky:

Imagine you’re standing, facing the ecliptic, where the sun and the moon travel through the sky. In the northern hemisphere, you’re facing south, with east to your left and west to your right. Imagine that the sun has just set, falling beneath the horizon to your right. Imagine that the moon is full, and hopefully I’ve explained well enough that now you know where it will be—cresting the horizon at your left. Imagine the opposite too—the sun is rising in the east at your left, as the full moon sinks in the west at your right. The new moon’s position, if you’d like to visualize that, is effectively the same as the sun.

Now, the difference between the two half-moons. Light comes from the west—in the northern hemisphere, your right—so when the right half is illuminated, it’s the first quarter of the lunar month, waxing to full, and when the left half is illuminated, it’s the third quarter, waning to new. One is high at dusk and one is high at dawn. Which is which?

You’re facing south. Picture a first quarter moon, right side lit up, at its peak in the southern sky. The light side is always facing the sun. Where is the sun? It must be to your right, touching the horizon in the west, setting. The first quarter moon is in the sky before, during and after dusk.

Picture a third quarter moon, left side lit up, at its peak. The light side faces the sun. The sun is to your left, touching the horizon in the east, rising. The third quarter moon is in the sky before, during and after dawn.

When I imagine this, I’m standing on my back porch, where I often go outside and stargaze. My telescope is small and one of the few things it can see with any detail is the moon. I want to be able to look at the moon just after dark, without having to stay up too late—and this memory device, of facing south and imagining the sun at my right hand to the west, is how I remember that the first quarter is the best time for me to observe the moon. It will be high in the sky at sunset, easy for me to see over the houses and trees.

If you remember that the moon waxes and wanes from the west (right in the north, left in the south), then you can fill in all the gradations of crescent and gibbous moon between the four main quarters. (As an example, if I wait a few days past first quarter to go outside and look at the moon, it’s waxed into a gibbous moon and it rises later in the evening, peaking in the sky closer to midnight. Another example: a waxing crescent is between a new moon and first quarter, so it will trail behind the sun and be above the horizon in the southwest at sunset.)

I hope that all of this makes sense and is useful to someone, whether for figuring out when you can observe the moon and where in the sky to look, or for thinking about how to place it in the sky in your writing and art. If nothing else, I hope I have brought you entertainment, and/or ruined the way the moon works in Minecraft for you forever. (It rises and sets directly opposite the sun!! Even when it’s a new moon!!! Light doesn’t work like that!!)

And finally, if you were trying to guess, the moon orbits the earth counter-clockwise if you’re looking down from the northern side.

#stars has thoughts #space #the moon #amateur astronomy #thank you for coming to my ted talk #and thanks discord friends for saying 'write the moon infodump post!!'#when i was like 'i wonder if i should write a moon infodump post'#i am a humble space nerd slash backyard astronomer with a 4inch scope #but explaining how i visualize and remember space stuff in simple terms is one of my favorite things to do ever #i could do a bunch of other posts about stuff like this. why venus is the morning star. how telescopes work (explain it like i'm 5 edition)#perhaps i will #undescribed #(i will try to come back with image descriptions later but i have already done all the explaining of visual concepts with words #that i can manage today. apologies)

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