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Mission- Bucky Barnes
Wearning: +18,smut
Request: yes!
The jet lands with a jolt on the deserted runway of a private island. Outside the window, palm trees sway in the breeze, and a pink sunset paints the horizon. There’s no time to appreciate it, though. You’re here for a mission, and it’s already off to a bad start.
“I can’t believe I have to do this with you,” scoffs Bucky Barnes, throwing you a look of pure disgust.
“The feeling is mutual,old man,” you reply through gritted teeth. Your name, Y/N, is printed on the fake passport you’re holding, but your real task is far more complicated than maintaining a false identity. The mission requires you and Bucky to pose as a happily married couple to infiltrate an exclusive gala hosted by an international arms dealer.
“Wasn’t there literally anyone else available?” he asks, shaking his head.
“We’re not here for sympathy, Barnes. You’re the only one with a shady enough past to avoid suspicion.”
He laughs, but without a shred of humor. “And you’re the only one who speaks enough languages to keep up with a crooked diplomat. Just don’t expect me to pretend I enjoy being here.”
“And don’t expect a hug from me,” you reply with an icy smile.
---
The villa assigned to the two of you is luxurious: white marble, designer furniture, and an ocean view that takes your breath away. Too bad the tension in the room is heavy enough to crush any promise of relaxation.
“There’s only one bed,” you say, pointing to the massive king-sized bed in the middle of the room.
“Perfect,” Bucky replies, dropping his bag on the armchair nearby. “I’ll take the couch.”
“Not a chance. I need proper sleep for tomorrow night’s gala.”
“Don’t worry, princess,” he says with a smirk. “I wouldn’t come near you even by accident.”
You finally decided to share a bed. You were wearing shorts and a tank top as you stared at the ceiling.
Bucky lies next to you, tense and unmoving. Even without looking at him, you can feel the distance between you both, like a chasm that can’t be crossed. Your eyes wander to the ceiling, tracing the pattern of shadows in the dim light. Finally, he breaks the silence.“Do you expect me to believe that you actually need sleep?” he mutters under his breath.
"What?" You ask, turning to him.Bucky doesn't turn to you, but his voice is still laced with sarcasm. "You heard me. I know you're used to pulling all-nighters for missions. You don't exactly act like the type to need a full eight hours to feel refreshed."
You look at him with a twinkle of sarcasm. "Well this time it's different, I'm on a mission with you and I have to put up with you, so I need sleep".
Bucky rolls over onto his side, finally facing you. “Oh, so I’m such a pain that I keep you awake now?” he says with a smirk. “Is this how you treat all the people you’ve ever worked with?”
"not just old men who think they are better than others" you reply looking at him.“Old man?” He repeats, sitting up on the bed. “You’re really calling me an old man? Aren’t you supposed to flatter your partner on these missions? Or is that just reserved for the men you actually like?” he jokes.
You roll your eyes ignoring him.Bucky doesn’t get ignored easily, though. He scoots his way towards you in the bed, his prosthetic arm brushing against your arm. “What, no smartass reply? I can’t believe I’ve finally managed to shut you up,” he teases, his voice low and quiet.
“Keep your hands or I'll turn your other arm into vibranium too,” you threaten.
Bucky holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Easy, sweetheart. I’m just trying to get a reaction out of you.” He scoots even closer, so that you can feel the heat of his body next to you. “And I think I’ve succeeded.”
“Very funny arm wrestling,” you say sarcastically.“You got plenty of jokes, huh?” Bucky replies, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He leans in a little closer, the distance between you almost vanishing. “You know, I can think of a better way to occupy that smart mouth of yours, princess.”
You turn and find yourself a little too close to him. "Oh really?" you say sarcastically.Bucky takes advantage of your proximity, invading your personal space even further. His face is inches from yours now, his breath dancing across your skin. “You’d be surprised,” he murmurs, a hint of danger in his voice. “I’ve got some ideas….”
Bucky’s fingertips graze your jaw, sending a shiver down your spine. “I wonder if you’d be this sarcastic if I took away that smart mouth of yours.”He shifts his weight on the bed, pinning you against the sheets as he leans over you. He’s so close now that you can feel the heat of his breath on your face.
"What the hell are you doing?" You murmur, looking at him above you.Bucky smirks, relishing your surprise. “What does it look like I’m doing?” he asks, his voice a low growl. His head dips down, his lips brushing against your neck. “I’m testing a theory….”
Bucky's hands roam over your body, the metal one surprisingly gentle. “Tell me your theory,” you manage to gasp as his fingers tease the edge of your tank top.Bucky's lips find your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “My theory is that your smart-ass mouth isn’t as tough as you think it is,” he whispers, his teeth grazing your earlobe. “And I bet I could find a more entertaining use for it.”
“Your theory is wrong old men” you say.Bucky laughs at that, his chest rumbling against yours. “Oh, we’ll see about that,” he says, his hand sneaking under the hem of your shirt. “I’ve yet to see you speechless. I bet I could make you speechless. I bet I could make you forget every smartass comment you’ve ever thought and make you begging for more.”
“get your hands off me” you say looking at him.Bucky's hand stills, pressed flat against your stomach. “Is that what you really want?” he asks, his voice a low murmur. “Or are you just saying that because you’re too stubborn to admit you like my hands on you?”
"Why would I like it, hm?" You murmur, looking at him.Bucky grins above you, his eyes flicking down to your lips. “Oh, I think you do. I think you like me this close to you. I think you like the way my hand feels on your skin….”
His prosthetic hand travels up, pushing under your top until you can feel the cool metal against the skin of your stomach. “I think you’re just too stubborn to admit it,” he says, his voice a sultry whisper.
His fingers trace the edge of your bra through your shirt, a light touch that sends a shiver down your spine. “I think you’re struggling to keep hold of all those smartass comments, aren’t you?” he murmurs. “I think you’re about to lose your words completely.”
“fuck you” you blurt out looking at him.Bucky laughs, his voice a deep rumble. “Now that’s exactly the kind of dirty talk I like to hear,” he replies, enjoying your reaction. His hand slips down, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your shorts. “You know, you really should watch that mouth of yours, princess.”
You could feel his hardness touching you and you looked up at him. "You like this kinky game, yes?" you murmur.
Bucky’s smirk turns into a grin, his eyes darkening with want. “I like anything that gets a reaction out of you,” he replies, his hand roaming across your hip and up your thigh. “And you’ve been giving me quite the reaction.”
His hand slips under your top, his fingers splaying across your back. He pulls you closer to him, his hips grinding against yours. “But I have a feeling we could both have some more fun…”
You hold back a moan feeling his hardness more towards you.Bucky’s smirk only widens as he hears your stifled moan. “That’s more like it,” he says, his hand moving to the back of your neck. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to make a noise for me.”
"you won't get anything from me" he murmured not with the same certainty that characterizes you.Bucky laughs, his breath hot against your skin. “Oh, princess, I think you underestimate me,” he replies. “I’ll get you to make all sorts of pretty noises for me before the night is over.”
His lips find your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin. “And you can’t fool me,” he murmurs. “I can feel you shivering, I can hear your breathing getting rougher. You like this, don’t you? You like the way I’m touching you….”
His hand is roaming over your body, pushing your shirt higher over your stomach and your chest. “Go on,” he urges, his voice husky. “Say it. Tell me you like it when I touch you like this….”
“No, I don’t,” you say even as your sighs grow heavy.
Bucky laughs at your stubbornness, but there’s an edge to it. “Oh, princess, you’re a terrible liar,” he says, his hand moving to your waist. “I know you want this. I can feel it in the way you arch your back when I touch you. And I’m not going to stop until you stop pretending.”
His mouth is on your neck now, his teeth scraping against your skin. “Stop playing games, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “Tell me you want me. Tell me you need me.”
You moan at the contact. “no, I don’t” you say in a tense voice.
Bucky’s smirk widens, his hand sliding up your leg. “Your moans don’t seem to agree with your words,” he murmurs. “I know you can’t resist me. I know you’re just as much of a mess under my touch as I am under yours….”
His hand moves farther north, slipping under the hem of your shorts. “Give in, princess,” he whispers, his voice a low growl. “Just say the words and I’m all yours….”
You closed your eyes trying not to give in but you could feel Bucky's hand playing with your thong.Bucky lets out a low chuckle as he feels you react to his touch. “There you go,” he murmurs, his fingers playing with the lace of your lingerie. “I know you’re close to breaking, isn’t that right? I know you’re just moments away from giving in…”
His thumb brushes against your most sensitive spot through the thin fabric, drawing a gasp from your lips. “Come on, princess, I want to hear you say it,” he says, his voice dripping with want. “I want to hear you admit that you want this as badly as I do…”
You moan at the touch and arch. “I hate you so much” you murmur.Bucky laughs huskily, feeling your body respond to his touch. “No, you don’t,” he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. “You don’t hate me at all. You hate how much you want me…. How much you need me….”
His fingers toy with the waistband of your shorts, his hand edging them down your hips. “Admit it, princess,” he whispers, his teeth nipping at your earlobe. “Admit that you want me as badly as I want you….” His hand moves to your inner thigh, his touch light and teasing. “Say the words,” he urges, his voice low and rough. “Say you want me, princess. Say you need me just as badly as I need you….”
You bit your lip to keep from giving in but it was very difficult, you were wavering and you just wanted him to give you pleasure.Bucky lets out a low curse as he feels you resist him. “You’re such a stubborn little thing,” he grumbles, his hand tightening on your thigh. “But I won’t let you keep up this act, princess. I’ll break you, it’s only a matter of time…. Just say the words, sweetheart….”
His fingers slide further up your thigh, edging up under your shorts. “Just a few words, princess,” he urges, his voice rough with want. “Just tell me you want me, and then I’ll give you what you need…”
You moan again but you don't want to give in. "No".Bucky curses again, his fingers tightening on your thigh. “You’re so damn stubborn, princess,” he mutters, his voice tight with want. “But you’re also lying to yourself….”
Bucky finally leans down and kisses you passionately and hungrily.The kiss is almost violent, a clash of need and desperation. Bucky’s lips are hot against yours, his tongue seeking yours as he presses you into the sheets. He bites at your bottom lip, then leans back, his eyes dark with desire. “Say it, princess,” he growls, his hand still on your thigh. “Just say you want me….”
You moan and kiss him. Bucky laughs huskily, his hand moving up your body. “There we go, princess,” he murmurs against your lips. “That’s what I’ve been waiting for…”His lips move down to your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there and causing you to gasp again. “Say it, princess,” he repeats, his hand finally moving up to cup your core. “Just tell me you want me….”
You moan at his words and surrender to him. "I want you".Bucky lets out a low growl of satisfaction as he hears your words. “That’s what I thought,” he mutters, his fingers trailing against your skin. “I knew you couldn’t resist me for long.”
He takes your wrists in his hand, pinning them above your head. His body presses against yours, his weight holding you in place. “Now that wasn’t so hard, was it, princess?” he whispers in your ear, his breath hot and heavy.His hand slides down your body, his touch sending shivers down your spine. “But now that you’ve given in, I’m going to have some fun with you…” he murmurs, his voice dark with promise. “I’m going to make you scream for me…”
He kissed you again and put two fingers inside your panties and into your core making you moan into the kiss.Bucky lets out a low chuckle as he feels you arch against him. “That’s it, princess,” he murmurs against your lips. “Let it out. Let me hear how good I make you feel…”He moves his fingers slowly, finding a rhythm that makes you moan again. “I knew you’d feel good,” he whispers, his eyes dark with want. “
His fingers move a little faster, the pressure inside of you increasing. “But I bet I could make you feel even better…” he murmurs, his mouth moving down to your neck. “I bet I could make you scream for me".
“Bucky” you moan and arch once more.Bucky’s smirk is almost feral as he hears you moan his name. “There it is,” he mutters, his fingers working faster as they press deeper into you. “I knew you’d sound like that when you finally let yourself go…”
He bites at your neck, his teeth sinking into your skin. “And I know I can make you moan louder, sweetheart… if you beg me right…”
His fingers move again, finding a place inside you that makes you gasp. “Beg me, princess,” he murmurs, his voice rough with lust. “Beg me to make you feel good. Beg me to give you what you need…”
You felt his fingers go faster and faster inside you and you could feel yourself getting close. “Please Bucky,” you murmur.Bucky grins at your words, his fingers moving even faster. “Please, what, princess?” he murmurs, his mouth moving to your ear. “Say it. Tell me what you want me to do…”
“let me come please” You murmur moving your hips on his fingers.
Bucky grins at your pleading tone, his fingers finally getting the reaction he wanted. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. “You sound so pretty when you beg for me like that… so pretty when you ask for what you want…”
His fingers move a little faster, going deeper. “You’re so close, princess,” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. “I can feel it. I can feel your body tensing up… begging for release…"
He moves his mouth back to your neck, his teeth nipping at your skin as he presses his forehead against yours. “But you have to ask me nicely if you want it…” he mutters, his voice raw with need. “You have to beg me for what you need, princess…”
You whimper at his words. “please Bucky, I’m so close” you murmur.Bucky’s grin widens at your words, his fingers finally giving you what you’ve been craving. “Yeah, you like that, don’t you?” he mutters, his touch rough yet still gentle with you. “You like it when I make you beg for it…”
“please” you murmur moaning feeling yourself getting closer and closer.Bucky’s fingers move a little faster at your words, his touch more insistent as he moves against you. “Almost there, princess, you’re so close,” he murmurs, his voice a low growl. “But I need you to say those magic words. I need you to beg me one more time…”
"Bucky please" you scream.Bucky grins at your scream, his fingers moving faster than ever inside you. “There it is, princess,” he mutters, breathing hard. “You sound so pretty when you scream my name… now let go for me, sweetheart."
You moan at his words and come on his fingers. “fuck” you murmur, closing your eyes in pleasure.Bucky let out a low growl as he feels you come on his fingers. “That’s it,” he mutters, his voice rough with satisfaction. “That’s my good girl…”
He withdraws his fingers and brings them to his mouth, licking them clean. “You taste so sweet,” he murmurs, his eyes dark with lust. “I knew you’d be sweet"
Bucky leans down, his body pressing against yours. “But I’m not done with you yet, princess,” he murmurs, his voice low and dangerous. “Not even close…”
You look at him knowing you were in for a long night.
#bucky barnes drabble#bucky barnes fic rec#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes blurb#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes headcanon#bucky barnes headcanons#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes imagines#bucky barnes one shot#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes oneshot#bucky barnes reader insert#bucky barnes sex#bucky barnes x oc#bucky barnes x reader smut#james bucky barnes#james bucky barnes x reader#james bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x yn#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x ofc
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Harper Geraldus x Harper Bor (Boraldus) having a mermaid moment.
Snippet below (carries on under the cut)
Bor can hear Arthus shouting behind him, almost drowned out by the sound of his own thumping footsteps. The deck lurches as Bor runs - and for a moment he’s not stepping but flying - as the ship beneath them rocks.
The storm is getting worse. The sudden swirl of dark clouds above robbing the light.
His boots reconnect with the deck a moment later, and he keeps running.
“Bor don’t be a reckless fool - Bor -”
But his brother’s voice doesn’t stop him; and he sees Arthus’ face for only a moment, his look of anger and horror as Bor grins at him and throws himself over the gunwale into the roiling sea.
He battles the waves to swim to them, the stranded figure struggling in the currents, keeping his grip on the axe in his hand no matter how much harder it makes every stroke. The shadowy form is circling in the water, drawing closer - the threat of the storm no match for their hunger with prey in sight.
“Just hold on,” he calls, swimming past the figure - focused on driving away the threat.
He strikes at them, swinging the blade in the maw of a hissing, slithering thing half made of teeth. They keep coming, and he keeps striking; jaws clamp down upon the blade of his axe, and between the creature and the choppy waves the axe is pulled from his grip.
A poor weapon for a battle in turbulent water - as the creature snaps and jolts forward - Bor draws on his other, pulling on the fire in his blood, the frustration and fever of it - he won’t fail in this rescue.
He roars in its face, and clocks it right in the jaw with a sharp fist.
As it retreats, he tries to speak - turning in the water as best he can.
“Come on,” he manages, the words a struggle with heaving lungs and waves battering his sides, “we’ll get you back to the sh-”
Bor sees dark hair, big eyes - wide with alarm - and as his eyes catch their bare arms - their exposed collar - something brushing against his legs as he paddles in place - he realises this was no castaway thrown starboard.
No - this is a -
He barely has time to register the shimmering tail and the realisation of who - or what - he has saved when an errant wave overtakes him, and he’s pulled under the surface.
Like the hand of a colossus reaching up from the ocean floor to snatch him; the grip of the current around his body drags him down into the darkness.
The light of the surface is pulling away in his stinging sight, and in his mind is a distant thought; if I survive this, Arthus is going to kill me.
Not the most momentous final thought, but it is what he thinks as his lungs start to burst, the air choked out of them. The darkness swirls as he sinks.
Suddenly, air. Pushed with force into his starved lungs. Lips on his own, breathing into him with a kiss.
Bor feels hands on his shoulders; for a moment the air rushing out of his nose in a flurry of bubbles until he realises what is happening - the blurring visage of dark hair around him as lips linger on his own a moment longer.
Those hands grip him, his saviour moving around him effortlessly, gliding through the currents and locking around his waist, and Bor knows he needs to hold this breath as long as he can as he feels himself pulled through the depths.
–
He chokes out the water in his lungs, taking in heaving, painful breaths as his mind catches up; he’s on dry land - sort of - he blinks away the burning salt water and realises he is in a pocket of air, the stony surface below him a cavern, not sand.
Looking down at him, a pair of big eyes, a mop of sodden dark hair that is dripping on his face; and as he sits up he feels fingers retract from his chest.
Bor takes him in at last.
Snatched from death into the arms of one as beautiful as this; Bor thinks, and recognises the delirium in the words, but he is beautiful. Sweet, soft features - parted lips like a bow - and trailing back into the water - a tail of silver blue scales, tinged with gold.
He is tense, arms wired, eyes darting across Bor’s face with trepidation.
“Don’t be scared,” Bor says, and the words come out roughly - his throat is still raw, “I won’t hurt you.”
But he looks confused.
No - he’s not afraid - he’s wary - prepared to be attacked.
“Y-you’re not…” he mumbles, his voice small and soft, unsure, “you’re not afraid of me?”
The stuff of Harper superstitions and hushed warnings, and not a bit the vicious creatures we were warned about, Arthus will never believe this.
Bor smiles. How could he possibly fear him, with lungs still filled with the air from his own?
“Well,” he says, “I hadn’t expected to find out merfolk exist today, but I hadn’t expected a lot of things today. Why would I be afraid of you?”
“You saved my life,” he says, and holds out a hand.
The man looks at it, perplexed expression growing - brows drawn into a knotted frown.
Perhaps they don’t shake hands, Bor considers.
“I’m Bor,” he says, instead, resting his hand over his chest - feeling how his heartbeat is hammering under his fingertips.
His saviour understands, placing his fingers over his own chest in turn.
“Geraldus,” he says.
He gestures to him, repeating with a small, growing smile; a glimmer of excitement in his eyes, “Bor.”
#harper geraldus#bg3 geraldus#harper bor#bg3 bor#boraldus#bg3 harper geraldus#bg3 harper bor#harper bor x harper geraldus#harper geraldus x harper bor#fic snippets#mermaid au#meraldus#roaving stuff#bg3 fanart
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All Of Your Love
Hey yall, im back with part two of my first Richette fan fic. Here’s a morning after story for yall featuring some important conversations, smut and a guest appearance from Edouard. I hope you all enjoy!
Two things: 1. I know nothing about traveling on boats, so this will not be super accurate in terms of supplies and 2. I like the idea of Richter and Annette using their magic for domestic stuff
Part one is here and this story can be read on A03 here
All mistakes are my own
Warnings: smut, swearing
Richter dreams of Annette.
Even though his subconscious can feel his hands gripping her waist and the soft puff of air she lets out with every breath while she sleeps. He knows she’s in his arms, finally.
But still, he dreams of her.
They’re always pressed close together, swaying to music he either can’t hear or his mind can’t be bothered to create. Annette’s in a pretty lavender dress that bunches at her torso and flows down to her knees. She’s barefoot and so is he, their toes digging into sand though Richter never spots an ocean.
He says something to her, it doesn’t really matter what because her reaction is the same every time. She throws her head back and laughs, happily, beautifully, heartedly; Richter theorizes that in his dreams she’s always laughing because that’s his favorite way to see her.
Happy.
Content.
Being made to laugh by him.
She has begun to occupy his every waking thought, so he isn’t particularly surprised when she starts showing up in his dreams as well. He’s been having the same one, with only slight variations for a while now. And he’s not upset about it in the slightest.
He’s pulled from his latest one by the real Annette shifting closer to him. Richter blinks himself awake slowly, his senses coming in one at a time. And the first thing he sees, is her.
She is the most beautiful woman he’s ever had the privilege of looking at. There was no Queen, Princess, Aristocrat or socialite that came close to the goddess like beauty that radiated from Annette.
If Richter could, he would spend all his time simply staring at her. He’s already committed every detail of her face to his memory and when she cuddles closer to him, her bare breasts pressing to his chest; Richter bites back a groan as the previous nights activities come rushing back to him and his brain wants to commit that to his memory as well.
It’d been his name that Annette whimpered, moaned and screamed out. It was his shoulders and back that she scratched each time he plunged deep inside of her. It’d been his cock that she’d taken so well in her tight, warm—
Richter grunts when all of his blood begins rushing south. He tries to adjust himself, scoot back from her just a tiny bit but Annette snuffles in her sleep and refuses to let him, her lips brushing across his pec and making him shiver. He looks down at her, smiling fondly at the fact that during their sleep the two of them became truly entangled with each other. Their legs are wound together at the calf while his right thigh has nudged its way between hers. Shes no longer clutching at his neck but has instead crooked her arm over his side, her hand splayed in the middle of his back.
Slowly Richter traces his fingers along her skin, she’s soft everywhere he touches. His fingers able to grip, knead and tug at any part of her body; he loves it. He never wants to not be touching her in some capacity again.
Her deep brown skin contrasting with his pale body is now the only thing he ever wants to see and also the sexist one Richter’s ever been blessed to see. He’s very much hoping to see as much of her skin mixing with his as possible between now and when they finally make it to Haiti.
Richter squeezes her hip, his hand trailing a new path to her back. He’d kept her on it for the entirety of their love making last night, not on purpose but he’d been determined to watch her face crumple in pleasure and he craved being able to watch her cum.
Now as his hand smoothes from her lower back up, his fingers meet knotted skin and Richter freezes. It never left his mind that not too long ago, the beautiful woman in his arms had been a slave. She’d been taken from her home, brutalized, dehumanized and almost killed. Of course she would have scars from that time in her life, but for some reason Richter hadn’t thought about how he’d feel when his hands came across them.
He’ll never understand how anyone, especially his fellow pale skins, can hate someone for having dark skin. It doesn’t make sense to him and he will never try to make it make sense.
Richter knows that he can’t even begin to imagine the horrors Annette had to go through to get where she is now. She’s one of the strongest people he’s ever known and probably will ever know, but it’s the things she had to endure to get here that truly worry him.
He’s seen the vile things men do to those they deem beneath them. And he knows that more often than not Annette had been on the receiving end of that violence, but Richter will die before he lets anyone ever lay a hand on her again.
He will kill anyone who even looks at her the wrong way.
She deserves at the very least that much.
“You’re think way too hard.”
Richter blinks, his chin tilting down and he meets Annette’s sleepy gaze. She pulls her hand from his back and places it on his chest, her brows knitting together as she studied his face.
“It’s alright,” she says gently, knowingly. “They don’t hurt anymore, not really.”
Richter bites the inside of his cheek to contain his anger. Shaking his head, he tucks his chin and gently kisses her forehead; letting his lips linger on the skin as he tries to say evenly,
“They shouldn’t have happened in the first place.” His fingers dig into her lower back, just below where the first of what he can guess is many scars starts. “You’re a human being and it fucking infuriates me that people want to hurt you just because of your skin.”
Annette seems momentarily surprised by his words, but she pats his chest in comfort.
“Richter, breathe.”
His nostrils whistle when he excessively pulls in a large amount of air and the tension breaks as Annette dissolves into giggles.
“You’re so dumb.” She snickers, reaching up and tapping the tip of his nose with her finger.
He grins at her, “anything to make you smile.”
Annette rolls her eyes, and Richter knows she thinks he’s joking so he kisses fully on the lips. It startles a surprised sound from her and he slips his tongue inside her mouth immediately, it’s been less than six hours since last he tasted her tongue but Richter knows he can’t go that long without it again.
She pulls back first, the ghost of a laugh on her breath and Richter would chase after her if not for her hands on his chest. She doesn’t even need to apply pressure, he settles back into the pillow their sharing, watching her face as she glances up towards the tiny window on the other side of the room.
“The sun will be up soon, we cannot stay down here all day.” She says, her fingers tapping a contemplative rhythm on his skin. Her bottom lip disappears between her teeth as she stares at the slowly lightening sky.
Richter waits patiently, letting her build up to saying out loud whatever is on her mind. He doesn’t have to wait long because she dismisses whatever she’s thinking about, smiles at him, pats his chest and says,
“Come on. We should wash up, get on some fresh clothes.”
Richter groans, “I’d rather stay here until Edouard comes for us.”
Annette laughs, “let’s not make him go out of his way, besides the sooner we start the day the sooner it will be over and we’ll be back here.”
She kisses him softly then pulls away and sits up.
Richter misses her warmth already and is pretty sure that Annette shivers too as she leans over and gathers their supposed sleeping clothes from the night before.
“I think I saw a basin earlier,” she murmurs, more to herself than him but Richter nods anyways.
He pulls his pants on easily, tying the string that holds them on his hips and watching as Annette quickly pulls her top on and then steps into her skirt.
“I’ll be right back,” she says tilting her head as she surveys him for a moment. “And I’ll bring more aloe; you’re still too warm.”
Richter looks down at himself, he is warm but not so much that he thinks it’ll be a problem much longer. But before he can lift his head and tell her just the basin is fine, Annette is pulling open the door and stepping out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Annette finds that she’s in luck, there are two basins tucked away with some of the other supplies. She holds them under her arm as she travels on the tips of her toes towards Edouard’s room.
She only has to knock twice, she’s seen the hints that in his new form her friend does not require much sleep. He opens the door, his eyes teasing as he lets her in and Annette can’t help but suck her teeth as she passes him.
“Don’t start.”
“Not even good morning?” He chuckles, shutting the door behind her. “Did you have a good night? It would seem so….”
He grins at her as he moves back to his bed, thats still perfectly made, and taps her hip on the way.
Annette looks down, her hem is turned up on itself a bit and there on the skin that stretches across her hip bone are the beginnings of two finger shaped bruises.
She jolts, almost as if she’s been physically shaken; nearly dropping the basins as she yanks the hem to its correct place and effectively covers the evidence of Richter’s passion.
“Shut up,” she huffs, trying to ignore the heat in her cheeks.
Edouard waves a hand, his shoulders still shaking slightly in jest but he says. “I saved some aloe for you, I knew you’d need it.”
But Annette stays where she is, fingers still pressing against her hip. Her friend looks at her curiously, turning his body towards her.
“He says he loves me.”
The silence stretches in Edouard’s cabin for longer than she thought it would and Annette looks up to meet his gaze.
“Did you not already know that?” He asks, genuinely confused.
Her face heats up all over again and Annette sighs in exasperation, “I just didn’t…..I don’t…..it’s irrational to just assume that—.”
“It’s irrational to assume that someone like him would love someone like you?” Edouard asks, a tinge of sadness in his tone.
She bites her lip to keep from confirming that’s exactly what she wants to say. It is irrational and improbable and just plain dangerous for Richter to so freely admit his love for her.
But then again, nothing about the time she has spent hunting vampires has been exactly safe and sane.
“I think, with how far we’ve come, we’re not going to be able to assume that even our personal relationships will be safe in the standard of logic.” Edouard says thoughtfully, getting to his feet and making his way over to the one bag of things he’d brought with him.
As he rummages through his things, he adds remorsefully, “Be thankful he is here to shoulder the weight with you, you are not alone.”
Annette crossed the small cabin, her hand coming to rest over his shoulder. “You aren’t either, Edouard. I’m here with you.”
He nods, finding the small container he was searching for and stands to his full height slowly.
“You are a good friend, Annette.” He says as he turns to her and her hand drops from his shoulder. He presses the aloe into her hand and pats the back gently, “you deserve to be happy, don’t push Richter away.”
She snorts, rolling her eyes. “I doubt he would let me at this point.”
Edouard smiles happily. “Good, anything else on your mind?”
He means it as a parting but Annette glances down again and chews her lip.
“One thing,” she mumbles and Edouard pauses, watching her.
“I…..let him….finish inside of me, I wasn’t thinking and shouldn’t have—.”
One of Edouard’s dark claws hands comes up between them, laughter bubbling up from his mouth. “I’m sure there’s some ingredients around here to make a tonic. I will check.”
“I can do it later today,” Annette tries to protest but he simply shakes his head and begins to guide her to the door.
“It will give me purpose for the day, besides I’m sure the crew would rather work with a human than a night creature.”
He opens the door for her, squeezing her shoulder reassuringly. “The whole ship will be awake soon, go have a few more moments of peace with him. You both deserve it.”
Annette drops her shoulders in a dramatic sigh, but a smile tugs her lips up into a smile.
“Thank you Edouard, really.”
“We’re in this together Annette,” he tells her sincerely before another grin breaks out on his face and he teases, “let’s just keep babies out of the mix for a few years at least, please.”
He laughs at her squawk of surprise and quickly steps back inside to shut the door before she can turn to yell at him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Richter’s not proud to admit it, but he spends most of his time waiting for Annette to return in a panic.
Had he said something wrong?
Was bringing up her scars from enslavement an over step?
Did she regret the previous night with him and didn’t know how to tell him?
She’d been thinking about something so intently for a split second, the crease in her brow replays over and over in his mind as he spirals into a list of reasons Annette could decide that whatever this was between them could only be through the lens of friendship.
He’s just about to get up and go find her, when the door to their room opens again and Annette slips back inside. She’s carrying two empty basins and a small container that assumes more aloe for him.
“Hey,” she says closing the door softly and clicking the lock.
Richter stands, meeting her halfway and gently takes the basins from her hands. He places them on the nearest surface and then scoops Annette up into a hug.
“Richter? What is—.”
“I’m sorry if I’ve said or done something to upset you Annette.” He says squeezing her tightly when she doesn’t immediately hug him back.
“Richter, how could you poss—.”
“It’s not my place to bring up your scars or your enslavement and I should never put my anger about them above yours.” He says quietly. “I just don’t want you to ever feel like I don’t care about you.”
“My world Richter, stop talking!” Annette laughs, leaning back hard in his arms so that they can look at each other fully.
There’s amusement on her face as she smirks up at him.
“You really do think way too hard about everything.” She teases, her hands smoothing up and down his arms. “I’m not upset with you Richter. There’s nothing to be upset about.”
He blinks, digging his fingers into her lower back.
“You’re sure?”
She nods, pushing up onto her tiptoes and pecking at his lips that’s worried swollen by chewing on with his teeth.
“I am, come let’s sit.”
She snags the supplies she’d brought back on the way as she follows him back over to the bed they shared, both of them sitting crossed legged with their knees pressed together.
Annette smiles at him as she separates the basins and motions toward them and him.
“Some ice, if you please.”
Richter blinks, looking down and laughing when he realizes what her plan is. He smirks smugly, sticking both hands into the mini tubs and letting his magic flow through him enough so that he can pile two moderate mountains of ice into them.
Annette nods approvingly when he pulls back, closing her eyes she holds up two fingers brings them to her lips for a kiss and then gently taps the top of both mountains.
The ice melts, sloshing into water almost instantly and Richter feels pride spread through his chest at how well they’re able to work together. When he looks up, meeting her eyes he’s pleased that she seems just as happy at the small task they’ve accomplished.
Annette produces two square cloths the drawer of the bedside table and hands one to him.
“You remembered to bring clothes with you, right?” She asks playfully as she dips her cloth into the water in the basin closest to the edge of the bed.
Richter rolls his eyes, “I’ve got two whole sets with me, I’ll have you know.”
Annette laughs, wringing out the cloth and beginning to wipe down her dark slender arms. Richter chooses to start with his chest, the coldness of the water clearing his head of any lingering panic and fuzzy doubt.
She was here, with him. Washing up as if it was something they did together every day. He had no reason to ever worry or doubt her.
“I wasn’t mad this morning,” Annette says suddenly. “I just needed to make sure some things got taken care of.”
He raises his eyebrows curiously, he watches as she chews on her bottom lip and a blush stains at her bronze cheeks.
“We have to be more careful.” She murmurs. “Now isn’t the time to be adding a child into our situation, we’re running straight into war.”
Oh….Oh
Heat curls around his ears and Richter chokes a bit.
“You’re right Annette, I’m sorry, I hadn’t even considered those consequences.” He blows out a breath. “I shouldn’t have been so reckless, I mean I didn’t even ask if it was alright if I—“
Annette’s hand reaches out towards him, her fingers pressing into his lips and jumbling the his words.
“I wouldn’t change anything about last night Richter.” She says firmly. “It was perfect, and Edouard will help me make a tonic to take this time.”
He kisses the tips of her fingers, which are cold from squeezing her cloth free of extra water, and pulls them away from his mouth.
“You’re sure you’re alright?” He asks.
“Yes, my love. Im certain.”
She pulls out of his grip gently, returning her hands to the cloth she’d abandoned in the water. Richter drags his own under his arms a few times and didn’t his sides, shivering when the scratches left by Annette burn in the chilly air.
He ignores the sting in favor of watching her as she leans back a bit, dabbing at water droplets that escaped her cloth and race down her stomach. She glances up at him, surprised to see him staring at her and asks,
“Are you alright?”
Richter’s mouth runs dry a bit, remembering the way his hands swallowed her waist completely last night. He shifts a bit where he sits, nodding his head as he stammers out,
“Y-Yeah, I’m good. Happy that we have this moment before the day starts.”
Annette looks to the window again, there’s a fair bit of pink in the sky but only the beginning rays of sun are breaking the ocean line. The first barely tipping the bottom seal of their window pane.
She straightens back upright, purposely extending her spine and neck so that a bit of the light can shine on her forehead and eyes. Richter watches her, once again stunned by how beautiful she is and the fact that he’s been granted permission to see her in these private moments.
Annette blinks her eyes open to say something but the urge to kiss her fills Richter’s senses entirely. And he’s not one to ever ignore the things he wants.
“Richter?” She tilts her head curiously as he lifts both basins and steadily transfers them to the ground.
Then he leans forward, balancing on his right hand and uses the other to grab her by the neck and pull her into a kiss.
Annette squeaks, her hands scrambling to hold onto his shoulders as they both rush to thrust their tongues together. Richter unfolds his legs, straightening them on either side of her and in order to not break the kiss she comes up onto her knees.
Richter smiles into their kiss, tugging her with him as he leans backwards, his hand tightening ever so slightly around the delicate slope of her neck to guide her on top of him.
“Richter..” she sighs, her legs straddling his hips. “We don’t have a lot of time.”
“Don’t worry,” he bites her bottom lip and tugs on it. “I just want to help you clean up a bit.”
He smirks up at her grunt of confusion. Richter grips her waist with both hands, groaning lowly when he lifts her easily. Holding her steady, Richter shuffles down along the bed and promptly settles Annette on his chest.
Her eyes widen, objections rising in her throat he’s certain but Richter bunches her shirt up and digs the fingers of his right hand into the top of her thick thigh.
“Trust me, Annette, please?”
She licks her lips, nodding and slowly her fingers take hold of her skirt; bunching it up to her belly button.
“I trust you.” She whispers, letting him guide her forward even more until her knees come to rest between his shoulders and the pillow beneath his head.
Richter takes a deep breath, inhaling the musk that is Annette; earthy and sweet at the same time. He doesn’t think he’ll ever smell anything better so long as he lives.
Richter drops his gaze from hers, groaning at the spots along her inner thighs of his dried speed that decorate the tantalizingly dark skin. Her short curls are damp still, lips hidden by them already starting to become slick.
“Thank you baby,” Richter murmurs, licking his lips. “Hold on to me..”
He finally manages to pull her completely above him, lowering her pussy to her mouth and pointing his tongue to part her.
“Shit! Richter!” Annette hisses far above him, her thighs muffling all sound from him.
The taste of her spreads all over his tongue like honey, sticky sweet and painting his lips; Richter buries his face even more. His nose bumps along her clit each time he flattens him tongue to stroke the length of her and he moans when Annette’s hips rock forward to chase the sensations.
Her hand not wrinkling her skirt fists in Richter’s hair painfully but the feeling only eggs him on more. He laps at her rhythmically, faintly he’s sure that not only is it Annette’s essence that gushed onto his tongue but remnants of himself from the night before too.
Sharp spikes of pleasure tingle their way down Richter’s back, making him flex his hips; his hand on her thigh sliding up and around to grip the meatiest part of her ass help her hump into his mouth.
Annette yelps, her head falling back as she fights to keep her moans and whimpers quiet. He works at her until her thighs are shuddering on either side of his ears and he knows she’s nearly there.
Blindly, Richter throws one arm over the side of the bed, searching for one of the cloths they’d been using. He wrings it mostly free of water before wrapping his arm around her thigh and wiping at the stains from last night.
It takes a few attempts but soon for every stroke of his tongue between her folds, a bit more of her inner thigh is scrubbed clean. He keeps his pace steady even as the hand on her ass rounds under and his middle finger pushes up into her.
Annette released her skirt, blocking Richter’s view of her as the fabric flutters down onto the half of his face not buried in her pussy. Judging by her muffled moans, he’s sure she’s stuck her fingers into her mouth and bitten down.
In the back of his mind, Richter wishes he hand more hands.
He stuffs a second finger inside of her, curling them together in a sequence with his tongue that sends Annette into overdrive. Her fingers leave his hair, tugging her skirt up all the way over her head and when they meet eyes again, Richter moans at the lust and love that seeps out of her.
She’s chanting his name again, much in the same fashion as she had last night. Her brow crinkled in unbridled pleasure that matched the jerk of her hips into his mouth and Richter knows she’s close.
“Richter, fuck—fuck—I’m going to—“
Her voice is strained, hissing at him as she struggles to get words out; Richter twists his fingers inside her just to hear her choke on moan. She clenches at the digits, squeezing them with her velvet heat and Richter sucks her clit between his teeth, pinching just hard enough that Annette’s body snaps and her back bows forward.
Her whine is perfect, ringing in his ears while her thighs squeeze his head and her cunt tightens to the point Richter thinks she might take his fingers from him.
He growls, suckling her clit and helping her ride through the aftershocks, tossing the cloth somewhere off to the side so he can hold her with both hands.
Soon her body jerks and shes pushing at his head, trying to move her hips back from the onslaught of pleasure his mouth has provided her.
Richter lifts her again, shifting her down into his lower stomach. Annette falls forward, laying on his chest to kiss him deeply; her tongue curious to taste herself.
Richter holds her by the back of her neck, his fingers massaging at the tendons.
“I love you, Richter.” Annette murmurs into his mouth.
He smiles, a blush spreading on his chest but happiness roaring in his ears.
“I love you too Annette.” He nips her bottom lip playfully. “Forever.”
She smiles, sighing contently and hiding her face in the crook of his neck.
Above them, there are several thuds of boots walking across the deck; their alone time is up for now. Annette pats his chest comfortingly and slowly begins to pull away from him, kissing him one last time before she shakily gets to her feet and starts to get ready for the day.
Richter followers after her, content to spend the rest of his life trailing after the beautiful dark skinned woman that has invaded his every way of life.
He wouldn’t have it any other way.
The End
Let me know what you think! Like and reblog if you enjoyed ☺️🤟🏾
#richette#richter x annette#richter belmont#annette castlevania#annette#richette smut#richette fanfic#castlevania nocturne#castlevania#castlevania: nocturne#fanfiction#castlevania fanfiction#im very geeked to be able to post this part for yall#I hope everyone enjoys
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I want to finish our storage system but Iskall literally won’t let me pick up a single piece of diorite so I can create a sorting spot for it.
#pearl talks#system shenanigans#he’s just sitting in cocon watching me#and every time I pick some up#she pushes to front to throw it off the edge of the ravine by our base#or throws it into the ocean on the other side#like man cmon at least let me put one into the item frame#I get so frustrated when we don’t have a sorting system so I’m ensuring we have one from day one now
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I hope that it mattered, having someone beside you in the dark
I Am in Eskew, The Boy Who Saw the Cracks in the World / Fleabag, Episode 6 / Kate Bush, Wuthering Heights / Skip Liepke, Illustration for Wuthering Heights / Brendan Monroe, Two / Mikko Harvey, For M / Fall Out Boy, Love From the Other Side / Mitski, Old Friend / Langston Hughes, I Loved My Friend / Mel Gausden, One by One (Our Friends Will Move Away) / Ocean Vuong, Thanksgiving 2006 / Kaye Donachie / Ryan Ross / Louise Miller
#throws this and runs#parallels#web weaving#ocean vuong#wuthering heights#kate bush#fleabag#i am in eskew#fob#ryan ross#langston hughes#love from the other side#mikko harvey#in conclusion i miss everyone all the time forever and ever
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Lotd have mer y ADC looks so good with her new selfie. And she’s posting flowers as usual 🥹
And wearing a white shirt. I'll say this, you can't accuse the girl of not staying consistently on brand 🥴
I will say also, she's never escaping the Victoria Pedretti doppleganger allegations any time soon (although I guess it'd be the other way around since she's older. Whatever) Anyway they neeeeeeed to play sisters at some point cuz what the actual fuck are we doing here like what is the point of all this if that never happens
#anon#I'm sorry in advance but that last one gives me overwhelming AWTR vibes#Lexa's not much of a selfie taker by nature. she just doesn't see the point. “I know what I look like already Clarke-#i don't need to thousand pictures to remind myself. i bet I could even pick myself out of a lineup. no help needed“#cuz she's also a little smartass ya see#but this feels like such a AWTR Lexa thing to do#to have this little disposable camera that she takes with her on their trips - their honeymoon. their rides along the coast. apple picking.#and she just... takes pictures. of anything she feels like. moments that obviously meant something to her#or that's what Clarke assumes when she finds the thing tucked away in Lexa's bedside drawer when she finally packs up to move#2 days before she's heading to the other side of the country and she finds herself sitting on the edge of Lexa's bed holding this gd camera#that she's completely forgotten existed#an hour of trying not to throw up just touching it - an hour of driving to the nearest pharmacy that still prints these damn things -#and a day of waiting for the roll to get developed is enough to have Clarke walking around like the equivalent to an exposed nerve ending#the first half of the roll just makes her smile cuz it's exactly what she expected#pictures of leaves. bumper stickers she saw. shots of the ocean at sunset. a weird rock Clarke distinctly remembers Lexa calling ~majestic#too many shots of Clarke doing mundane things that Lexa apparently thought needed capturing#and then like a suckerpunch to the face... there's this#a shot that Clarke knows without knowing that Lexa took to finish out the roll#probably snapped in a moment of Lexa's little way of saying 'hi :)'#but all it feels like in her hands one last goodbye...#wow this got away from me#my bad#AWTR
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Alright. Okay. As an aussie who is firmly against guns and even visting america ever because of the guns im about to fucking fly over there, yank a weapon out of a toddlers hands, and start making some shots myself.
And im a much better headshot than your previous attempts have proved 🙃
#HOW THE FUCK! DID WE GET HERE? WHAT THE FUCK?!?? WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCKING FUCK WHAT IN THE EVERLOVING FUCKING SHIT#personal#not so casual reminder that YES! ITS OKAY TO PUNCH NAZIS! AND ENCOURAGED TO DO SO!!#hit them for standing there!! dont wait till theyve done something awful in front of you just start throwing punches literally immediately!#what the fuuuuccccckkkkk i dont. i dont know how to react to this. its 20fuckingtwentyfive you guys#really thought we as a species were better than putting literally the richest nazis in the world on public TV! and in office!!#anyway guillotines and gallows are good things to research theres a pretty good vid by a chanell called jacob geller on youtube#called The False Evolution of Execution Methods. i highly reccomend it in general but especially rn#im so angry. like how am i supposed to just casually go about my day knowing the Worst Peoples to exist in the modern day#run the powerhouse of the western world and that that effects me so significantly but im oceans away from doing anything about it#not anything. i resist and i donate and i inform and i support from here when i can. but how am i supposed to just like#casually do a silly DIY when on the other side of the world theres about to be more giant riots because yall let the worlds Smallest Cock#do fucking nazi salutes on live television as he worms his way into the control station of your country#what the fucking fuck man#what the absolute fucking shit#or not live tv but in front of a very large live audience with cameras. for fucks sake people!!
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They've found her again
#date of origin 12/26/2011#every once in a while this post gets a burst of 50 notes#then she goes back to sleep#apparently she was in a daily mail listicle in 2012#huh#believe in your dreams#do you believe in life after love?#like throwing a bottle cap in the ocean and finding out people on the other side of the world#take turns sleeping with it under their pillow for some reason
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MOON HOUSE CORE © novy2sirius
trigger warning: suicide, violence, eating, hypochondria, trauma, mental health issues ♡
this is just a random post abt things ppl with these placements could experience ♡
these r only abt isolated placements so take it with a grain of salt bc the whole chart matters ♡
a lot of these r experiences i’ve heard from my friends and ppl who’ve purchased readings from me directly ♡
moon in 1h core
not being able to hide ur emotions bc they’re literally evident on ur face, youthful beauty, constantly changing ur outlook on life depending on how u feel at the time, getting told u look young for ur age, getting mad bc boys/girls call u cute instead of hot, mothering everyone, likes to be pampered and babied, throws child-like fits if lower vibrational, being a lot like ur mom even tho sometimes u don’t wanna admit it, even if ur a boy having emotional responses like a teenage girl, growing up with parents that had anger issues so now u have anger issues, being asked if ur sad all the time by ppl when ur not even sad it’s just ur resting face, having a comforting aura, ur mood instantly being ruined the moment anything makes u insecure at all, looking good in light blue and white outfits
moon in 2h core
having a cute voice, wanting to spend all ur money bc u had a bad day and r emotional, eating bc u’re emotional af, ur comfort place being a restaurant/fast food spot, having a wife who brings lots of stability to ur life, having a good singing voice, feeling emotionally connected to inanimate objects such as ur stuffed animal, not feeling happy around ppl who bring instability to ur life, spending all ur money on things related to music/food, love language is gift giving and physical touch, not feeling loved by ur partner when they don’t hug u every second, feeling more comfortable around ppl who share the same values as u, only having a good work ethic when ur happy, caring abt ppl more when they spoil u with gifts
moon in 3h core
being extremely charming and able to persuade others easily, having a rly soft voice and being told u sound like a child, being scared to do anything when ur sibling/a companion doesn’t come with u, feeling more emotionally connected to ppl u share similar opinions/interests with, being more talkative around ppl when ur comfortable and quiet around random ppl, posting emo stuff on social media when u were in middle school, having a lot of the same interests as ur mom, being close with ur neighbors growing up and riding bikes with them around the neighborhood and selling lemonade on the side of the road, being obsessed with romance books
moon in 4h core
playing house a lot as a kid, either being rly close with ur mom or having extreme mommy issues, being obsessed with self care related things and not being able to go to sleep without doing ur skin care routine, being emotional just by existing, coming off as emotional even when ur not emotional, feeling deep emotion for ppl and feeling attached to them and then realizing that they don’t feel the same way bc u’ve literally only talked for a week and u just have a problem with getting attached to ppl easily, feeling most comfortable with people that make u feel feminine, being a talented nurse or realtor, having a very nurturing aura
moon in 5h core
having a lot of hobbies that don’t involve leaving ur house, being hot, ppl always telling u that u have celebrity/star vibes, having a bunch of creative ideas but being afraid to share them bc ur shy, being insanely dramatic and then later regretting it heavily, being a good actor, contemplating killing urself every time u got grounded as a kid bc ur dramatic, feeling happiest when ur by the ocean or water, being a hopeless romantic, falling in love w cancer placements but wishing u didn’t, loving mango/citrus flavored foods/drinks, being scared of violent video games and wanting to play sims or minecraft instead, being rly good with kids/kids naturally loving u, growing up with egotistical parents, rewatching the same films/shows over and over bc they bring u comfort
moon in 6h core
being able to tell how someone rly feels even when they try and hide it bc u can analyze ppl rly well, loves animals and feels better when they have an emotional support pet, love language is acts of service and gift giving, having rly bad anxiety any time u leave the house (and in general) these ppl r huge homebodies, being a hypochondriac and thinking ur gonna die every time u have a single bad physical health symptom and googling ur symptoms then becoming even more worried bc google says ur abt to have a heart attack, chronic overthinker
moon in 7h core
being rly charming and having a lot of secret admirers, being scared to come outside ur comfort zone without a companion/partner with u, being fruity af, making ur friends/lovers order food for u bc ur too shy to, wanting harmony/peace and hating when someone argues with u or tries to start conflict with u but unfortunately still managing to attract lots of enemies even when u try to avoid drama, being able to negotiate with others easily, trying to be nice to ppl and killing them with kindness and u still end up getting hurt, being attractive to society but insecure abt ur looks, feeling sad if u don’t look pretty at all times, moving to live near ur bf/gf bc ur too attached to be in a long distance relationship, hates hookup culture
moon in 8h core
being sexualized a lot, ppl randomly confiding in u abt their traumas when u didn’t even bring anything abt it up, not being able to hookup bc you’ll get too attached, having a lot of family trauma that has now affected u emotionally and made u rly defensive any time someone talks to u in a slightly off tone, being a witch, doing love spells on ur crush so they’ll like u, having dark humor, feeling like u wanna die on ur period and going insane and acting like another person and then when u go off it realizing how dramatic u were, getting a boob job, being sent d*ck/p*ssy pics a lot without even asking for them, getting inheritance from ur family, getting surgery when u were young, spiritually transforming the most when ur alone
moon in 9h core
wanting to leave ur home country and never come back, trying to run away as a kid and packing a bag then coming back bc ur scared after only getting half way down ur street, adapting to ur surroundings quickly and easily being influenced by others, having a closer connection with ur grandparents than ur actual parents, having good ethics and not vibing with ppl around u who don’t, having ur first romantic relationship in college, feeling more comfortable around cultures outside of ur own or feeling more emotionally connected to cultures outside of ur own, cutting out ppl quickly when they’re negative and when they don’t support ur plans in life, having a thing for athletic boys/girls
moon in 10h core
having a star-like quality, finding comfort in being a workhorse and working all the time and using it as a way to distract urself from all ur problems in life, feeling like life is meaningless if ur not constantly going out and doing things, trying to keep things private but they end up getting out anyway, having a reputation of being a softie, feeling closer to ur dad than ur mom or having extreme daddy issues no in between, leaving behind a legacy that inspires others and touches them emotionally, being talented in careers that r an emotional outlet for u
moon in 11h core
having a very friendly aura and being able to socialize well but still sometimes having a low social battery at the same time, having a lot of influence on others and attracting a lot of ppl that r fans of u, being easily influenced and sometimes easily manipulated, having a lot of mood swings, being emotionally unpredictable, fearing being alone/dying alone and ppl abandoning u, being able to social network rly well, being closer to a step/half parent than a biological parent, throwing the best house parties, forming closer emotional connections online than in real life, being closer to ur online friends than in person friends, having a deep desire for someone to just care abt u and give u attention
moon in 12h core
having a lot of dreams that weirdly predict things almost perfectly, being obsessed with the feeling of nostalgia but also hating it at the same time, having an ethereal beauty, using astrology as a way to get an explanation for ur trauma so u can feel more validated, falling into a deep depression every time u run out of shows to watch, imagining fake scenarios in ur head abt rly bad things happening and crying over it when ur bored, looking like a mermaid/man, dwelling on the past a lot, being able to mask rly well and pretend ur someone ur not and doing it sm to fit in that u don’t even know who u r anymore, struggling with mental health issues ever since u were a child and feeling like u were sad even as a kid but not knowing why, hearing ppl talk randomly when ur abt to fall asleep but no one’s there, having a lot of hidden enemies that u may have had a close emotional connection with before that end up stabbing u in the back, feeling alone even when ur not alone
comment if u want more of these 🗣️
#moon houses#moon#moon astrology#astrology#astrology blog#astrology chart#birth chart#astrology community#astro community#moon core#astrology core
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NEEDY
in which rafe just wants to nap
fem!reader x rafe cameron
fluff
warnings!: bit of sarah shade. cameron siblings getting along (iktr 🙂↕️), reader is from the cut and kind of a pogue idk,
a/n: hiii ! first rafe fic ever and first fic since 2023 (oops...) to my spiderverse readers i will write when they give us content and when the fandom is alive. hope this fic is good and people like it. it's not the best but i'm working on other fics so give me a chance please 😣. this ones pretty short. pls let me know if you enjoyed this or if there are any spelling errors. requests are open !
masterlist
summer in the outer banks was nothing short of fun. spending most days at the beach taking in the warm sun, relaxing and cooling down in the cold water, all while hanging out with the people you love most. but fuck, did it get so hot sometimes. unbearably hot. it wasn’t enough to cool down in the water, the intense sun on skin overpowering the coolness of the ocean. it was worse at the chateau, or anywhere on the cut. only a lucky few could afford the luxury of air conditioning. fortunately, you had a super awesome hot rich boyfriend with a mansion with air conditioning that ran 24/7.
you laid in bed with the youngest cameron sibling, helping her with online shopping for the upcoming school year. having been with rafe for just a couple months, you had become close with his sisters. you saw sarah at the chateau with john b more than you had ever really seen her at tannyhill. therefore, when you spent time at the mansion, you typically spent time with wheezie when you got bored with rafe.
“wait, that one’s cute,” you pointed to a crop top on wheezie’s laptop which rested on her knees.
“i think i already have that one though.” she looked around her room to see if the top was among the clothes on the floor before giving up and continued scrolling through the catalogue, “i feel like these clothes are too revealing.”
“cmon wheeze! this is nothing, you just gotta get out of your shell. it’s just clothes, try something new and i don’t know, maybe you’ll like it.” you tried convincing the younger girl. over the past few months you had become like an older sister to her, as sarah spent more time with john b and the other pogues.
“my dad would never let me buy these,” she turned her head to look at you.
“just put it on rafe’s card,” you whispered, “i won’t tell.” you stuck your pinky out and wheezie quickly wrapped her pinky around yours, giggling.
as wheezie finalized her cart a familiar voice began to call out for you, “babeee! babeee where are you!”
wheezie rolled her eyes, “speak of the devil,” she muttered.
“summon him and he shall come,” you smiled at her which she returned, “i’m in wheezie’s room!” you called back. on queue, you heard obnoxiously loud stomps coming up the stairs. “he is so dramatic and for what?”
rafe stood in the doorway looking at you and his younger sister, “why’d you steal my girlfriend, wheeze?”
it was your turn to roll your eyes, “she didn’t steal me, dipshit. you were too busy ignoring me for topper and kelce and your stupid game so i came up here where i am truly loved.” you sighed, wrapping yourself around wheezie who stuck her tongue out at her older brother. in return, rafe picked up one of the shirts laying on the floor and chucked it at wheezie.
“douchebag!” she yelled.
“cmon y/n, i wanna go take a nap.”
“but i’m so comfy here!” you whined cuddling wheezie tighter.
rafe walked over to your side and quickly got on the bed, spooning you and throwing one of his long legs over your body, reaching wheezie. rafe wasn’t an affectionate brother by any means, but when he was with you he definitely softened up with everyone around you guys.
wheezie kicked her brother’s calf, “ew get your nasty dogs away from me!” but rafe didn’t budge.
“what’re you guys doing?” he mumbled looking at the laptop screen.
“y/n’s helping me shop for school.”
“why? you have enough clothes. you don’t need none of those crop tops. no boyfriends till you’re 30.” rafe stated as he viewed the clothes on the screen.
you gently smacked the leg that was on top of your own, “don’t be rude! wheezie’s not little anymore.”
“hm, whatever.” he grumbled, nuzzling his face against your neck, eyes shut as he fully enveloped you leaving no space between your bodies. his hands found yours, wasting no time to intertwine your fingers.
“get off me, fatty!” you feigned disgust, as if you weren’t enjoying every second of rafe’s neediness to cuddle.
rafe grumbled, “only if you come take a nap with me in my room.”
“fineeee, get up then,” you reached behind to gently smack his butt and he quickly got up, no effort to hide his big smile, “sorry wheeze, duty calls.” you sighed, getting up following rafe as he walked to wheezie’s door.
before walking out he turned back to wheezie and stuck his tongue out as she had done earlier. with no hesitation, wheezie returned the gesture as you smacked rafe’s head and shoved him out the door.
#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fluff#obx imagine#rafe cameron#rafe cameron blurb#rafe obx
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'still wakes the deep' au
prompt: You're an environmental scientist conducting research on an off-shore oil rig with only a few days left before you're slated to leave. The eldritch creature they accidentally awaken throws a wrench in the works. First Meeting masterlist
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Choppy waters like Neptune’s eye meet your gaze when you look back at where you came from, the land on the other side but a beige striation on the horizon.
“Afraid of heights, doctor?” your escort asks, his amusement borderline distasteful. It must stroke their ego to watch newcomers come aboard and flounder, gawking at the swells and waves crashing against the oil rig, each wave so cataclysmic that it’s a wonder the structure stays upright. A wonder of engineering, that is.
The rig manager stands closer to the railing, staring without fear out into the ocean surrounding you. His sea legs are likelier studier than the ones that wash up ashore every fourteen days when he’s due for his OSHA mandated break. His knees don’t even buckle at the sight of the barnacles clinging nerve-wrackingly high up on the rig legs. Far too high up for comfort.
“No, sir,” you reply, shaking your head. “Just water.”
He barks a laugh at that. “Plenny o’ that around here. Wouldn’y go leaning my head over the rail then, if I was you.”
You take another look down, balking at the frothy white streaking the latticework barrier around the jacket legs. No worries there; there isn’t a chance in hell you’ll be going anywhere near the rails. You’re too high up to know for sure, but you wonder if there are sharks plumbing the depths beneath the rig, excited by the noise and activity on board.
You’d be shark chum if you went overboard. Beyond that, you’d be fish food; no sympathy from the sea to be found this far from land.
“Where should I set up?” you ask instead.
Sensing your eagerness to get started—and to get away from the edge of the rig—he gestures for you to follow him and sets off towards the door closest to you, leading you into the interior of the rig. “This way, doc—got a room already set up for ye. Cozier in there than out here.”
The first few days aren’t so bad after that. You spend the first day getting unpacked, your suitcase already waiting for you in your quarters, which doubles as your office, and then turn in early after prepping for the next day.
As anticipated, you spend the next day hunched over the toilet bowl, stomach roiling from spending too long staring at the turbulent waters below. You’ve done this before but it never gets any easier. Despite your chosen field of research, you’re suited for dry land, not the sea. It’s the price you have to pay though.
No coffee that first morning. Just tea to help settle your stomach. And it does for a bit—lets you get through your first day worth of tests without you upchucking while collecting water samples from the discharge point. You’ll save your indoor work for the days when the crests of the waves are high enough to spray the working deck. By dinner, your stomach is a little more settled, but still you elect to eat in your quarters instead of with the workers in the mess.
You haven’t been on the rig long enough to have made any enemies, nor do you think that’s something that’ll happen during your brief time on board, but you definitely haven’t made any friends. It comes with the territory. The men that work on these rigs out in the middle of the ocean—even the ones on land, for that matter—tend to view your kind with distrust at the very least, if not outright hostility.
It’s hard to blame them. The purpose of your visit isn’t to shower them with praises. You’re stationed on the rig for the next few days to collect data and samples to assess the environmental impact of the rig’s operations. It puts you somewhat at odds with them, the outcome of your work being potentially to the detriment of theirs.
Some whisper the word like blasphemy. Government worker. They say it like you’re the Baba Yaga or a witch living in a cottage at the edge of the village, like uttering the word too loudly will summon you. There’s too much work to do around the rig for them to cluck their tongues like gossipy hens, but the men find time for it anyway. You’d roll your eyes if you were any greener.
The truth is though, you’re used to it, and at this point in your career, you don’t have it in you to act like it’s such a shock that they wouldn’t give you the red carpet treatment. All you need is a hot cup of coffee, an office (or even just a desk) to write your reports, and some space to conduct your research without being badgered with questions.
Most of the men tend to blur together, a medley of fluorescent yellow hard hats and navy coveralls, respirators strung around their necks and goggles covering their eyes. It’s easy enough to mistake them for one another.
Only one of them has managed to catch your eye so far, though you can’t say it’s for a particularly good reason. Of the lot of them, he’s the loudest. Which is saying something, considering that the crew tend to speak in shouts and hollers to make up for the crashing waves beneath them and the howling winds above them. He’s also among the tallest, broad shouldered and muscled—a former first responder or military, if you had to guess, though you keep your assumptions to yourself.
You know better than to ask questions around him because you’ve learned in the short time that you’ve spent on the rig not to give him—Soap, they call him, or MacTavish when the rig manager is particularly pissed off—even an inch.
It’s another crew member that gives you that heads up. “Din’y pay him any mind.”
“Who?” you ask, looking up from your work.
The crew member nods to the man posted on the other side of the main deck. “Soap. Bit of a showboat, that one. Always stirrin’ up the boys, gettin’ ‘em all riled up. Din’y let him distract ye too much.”
“Oh. Thanks.” You look back down at the data sheets in front of you. “I’m not worried though. He hasn’t been too much trouble.”
Famous last words.
He isn’t too much trouble until he suddenly is; until he’s suddenly everywhere, always in your way somehow. Not so much underfoot as just always around the corner waiting with his stupid smug smirk that you’ve grown to despise and half-lidded electric blue eyes roving up and down the length of you. Aggravating you at every turn.
Your first meeting is an accident. At least, it seems that way, and likely is—he seems too blunt for coincidences or chance meetings, happy to tell you to your face that he manipulated the situation in order to get you on your own.
You’re wandering down one of the many circulatory hallways and slightly lost when a door suddenly opens, blocking your way. A jumpsuit-clad man twice your size walks out, his hair just brushing the top of the doorframe. Though you recognize him instantly, you’d never gotten close enough for the details to cement in your mental image of him. Up close, you get a better look.
The faint lines around his eyes and mouth betray either his age or the life he’s lived. Weathered; bronzed from days at a time spent under the sun. You’d noticed the mohawk earlier, but staring at the side of his head now, you can see the faint puckering of a healed wound splintering out from his temple into his hairline. Though the sides of his head are freshly shorn, the scar looks old—maybe a year, maybe more.
When he notices that he’s not alone in the hall, his head turns in your direction and he stops, one foot still in the other room. Two thick brows go up at the sight of you standing there with your tablet clutched to your chest.
“Hullo gorgeous,” Soap purrs, pupils suddenly pinpricks and your stomach drops.
Because of course he would. You’d long figured he might be an arrogant piece of work from what little you’ve observed of him from across the rig, but you should’ve known he’d also be a flirt. He’s too good-looking not to be one. Tall and broad, with biceps the size of your head. You’re sure he rolls his shirt sleeves up just to feel them strain against the muscles of his arms. You certainly can’t help the way your eyes are drawn there.
“Ah ken who ye are,” he says, taking a step towards you until the tips of his boots nearly touch yours. The door is still wide open behind him, swinging slowly towards the wall behind it. Soap towers over you easily, tipping his head to stare down at you. Your lips press into a tight line when his eyes drop to your chest, staring at the outline of your tits through your cardigan.
“Okay,” you say through stiff lips.
“Yer that lass from the government. Ah thought ye'd be auld,” he jokes, shit-eating grin on his face.
You nearly groan. It’s too early for this shit and you’re too tired from being up all night working on your report on the rig’s discharge water quality.
“Well, I’m not,” you reply woodenly instead, altogether unimpressed with him.
For as fit as he is, you’re not here to flirt or hookup, and you’re good at separating work and your personal life. If anyone manages to get under your skin enough to tempt you, it won’t be the man undressing you with his eyes while covered in a thin layer of grime and sweat.
“Nae, yer no’,” he agrees, voice a low burr. His eyes flick up to meet yours. “I’m John, by the way.”
“I know.”
“…It’s polite tae give yer name when someone introduces thersel's tae ye.”
“I’d rather you just call me doctor.”
“Doctor, eh?” Soap purrs, running his tongue over his bottom lip. “Dae ye dae house calls, doc? Hae been feelin’ a wee bit feverish lately.”
You can’t help the way your cheeks heat at his comment. “Not that kind of doctor. Do you mind getting out of the way?”
“Jesus, I din’y ken ye’d be so fuckin’ prickly. Thought ye government workers were cheery a' the time.”
“Not when we have work to do,” you bite out, decidedly uncomfortable with his shameless perusal and eager just to get on with your day. “Can you move please? I have somewhere to be.”
All that does is force him to take another step closer, toe-to-toe with you now. You should’ve known he’d take that as an invitation. He reeks of grease and brine, the smell pungent and clinging to his skin and clothes. Almost like he sleeps and works in the same pair of coveralls instead of bringing his dirty clothes down to the laundry facility like everyone else at the end of the week.
You tell yourself to stop staring at where his coveralls open to a sweat-slicked chest, dark hair poking up over the neckline, but your eyes don’t comply. A small cross dangles from a chain around his neck, nestled in the hair just above his pecs.
“Good Catholic lass, are ye?” Soap asks, noticing the focal point of your gaze.
You scrunch up your nose at that. “No. I didn’t—it’s none of your business anyway.”
The stutter is where his eyes light up, a little gleam in the blue that lets you know you’ve caught his interest. Like seeing a storm well off in the distance and bracing for it anyway, knowing that you’re in its path no matter what you do.
“A’right, doc, Ah'll leave ye tae it. Gotta get back myself anyway,” he says, rolling his shoulders back and standing up taller, and it’s only in that moment that you realize how low his neck had been bent in order to get closer to you. “Wait. I can’y let ye go lookin’ like that.”
You’re about to ask him what he means when he suddenly grabs you by the front of your cardigan and pulls you towards him, getting the grease on his hands all over the fabric. Your eyes nearly bug out of your skull as he pops the topmost button into its corresponding hole, the only one you’d left purposefully loose.
The only reason you don’t snap at him to take his hands off you is because your tongue is a knot in your throat.
“There we go,” Soap coos when the button is in, looking down at his handiwork all over the front of your shirt. “Lookin’ like part o’ the crew already.”
Your heart pounds in your chest long after he lets you go. When he steps to the side, the door flush with the wall by now, you dart around him, walking away as fast as your legs can carry you without sprinting. You ignore the way he belts out a laugh at your swift departure. Ignore the way your stomach cramps at the sound as well.
He might end up being more trouble than you thought.
#ceil writing#soap x reader#cod x reader#soap/reader#soap x you#john soap mactavish x reader#john mactavish x reader
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Well-placed Trust
As soldiers unpromptedly walk in on a maskless Ghost and you, your solution to protect his face is to shove it in your chest.
Tags: f!reader (boobs involved), civilian!reader, protective!reader, fluff + smut, Praise, Ghost is a menace (positive), boobs worship, 1k words.
Gaining Simon Riley's trust was not something you ever planned to achieve. However, now that you've had it, you were fiercely protective of it.
This would explain why, when you heard the door to Ghost's room randomly opening, and your eyes flew to the skull mask laying on his desk— barely a meter away but it might as well have been on the other side of the ocean—, your first instinct was to launch yourself at him. Bluntly shoving his face into your chest without warning, in hopes to conceal it from the newly arrived trespassers, and wrapping your arms around his head in a desperate attempt to hide his hair as well.
Nevermind that he's trapped right between your breasts.
You throw a mildly accusatory stare at the entrance, and coarse laughs ring out, followed by a barely believable apology.
“Oops, sorry. Wrong door. Didn’t mean to interrupt!”
You let out a relieved sigh as the door closes. However said relief is quick to vanish as you realize Simon hasn’t reacted at all this whole time. Not a word, not even a grunt; not a move, not even to repel you.
You let go of him like you've been burnt, even raising your hands in surrender.
“Sorry! Are you mad? I panicked, I was just trying to—”
Your waterfall of apologies brutally ceases when, after attempting to back away, you're stopped short by his embrace. You don’t know when he wrapped his arms around your waist. His expression still out of sight, anxiety nags at you, despite the logical part of your mind emphasizing that if he was actually angry, there's no way he'd demonstrate it by hugging you.
So you insists.
“Ghost?”
“Mmh.”
The sound is raspy, unbothered. He idly rubs his face against your torso, and the motion is enough to make your crotch throbs with arousal. Inhaling sharply at the unexpected sensation, you clench your thighs together.
“Simon,” you call again, trying to sound severe this time.
You have absolutely zero reservation in granting all the hugs he might crave, but surely they could be performed in a less… compromising position. Lest you end this cuddle session squirming with want. And a burning face. And the imperative need to never cross the lieutenant ever again, for fear that you'd spontaneously combust with mortification otherwise.
“‘M not mad.“
The gruff, familiar voice appeases your tension a little— the emotional one, that is. Not the physical one.
“You're not? You have a right to b—”
“I trust you.”
Your heart skips a beat at the confession. You suspected it, hoped for it— but hearing it out loud is another matter entirely. Simon Riley is a man of few words, but the ones he does pronounce are always sincere, to the point of bluntness. For him to feel the need to spell it out loud, it has to be important.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. You've put my comfort over yours, no questions asked. Couldn’t be more pleased, love.”
The gravel in his voice does funny things to your stomach— why, why, why? It never had that effect before.
You try to ignore the signals sent by your body, instead passing a hand behind your neck in self-consciousness.
“Oh… well. It was nothing. I'd do it again in a heartbeat—”
“You've been so good to me, sweetheart. Don't ya think you deserve a reward?”
Your brain short-circuits. Your skin gets even warmer. Surely you misheard him.
He finally unsticks his face from your chest, resting his chin above your sternum, only to stare with the start of some impatience drowned out in warmth and fondness.
He's a vision, one that takes your breath away and causes heat to pool in your stomach.
Heavy-lidded eyes, disheveled hair, ardent stare, he's a languid, lascivious mess.
“I need an answer. Preferably in one word. Yes, no, fuck off…”
In other, normal circumstances, you would have stayed mute from the shock, or helplessly stuttered, but the imperative desire to not disappoint him, to preserve the contentment he displays, takes over.
“Fuck. Yes.”
The low chuckle that escapes him in reaction to the eagerness of your reply makes you bite back a moan. Your hands close into fists on the back of his shirt.
He lifts your shirt— "hold this for me, love"— and effortlessly frees your chest from your bra. The second your skin is bare, he presses his face back into it, nuzzling against it with a blissful sigh.
With one hand busy grasping your top, and the other clinging onto his shoulder for balance, there's nothing you can do but submit yourself to his ministrations.
It's your turn to sigh in pleasure as he proceeds to kiss an invisible line between the bottom and the top of your breast, fingers stroking the curve between your ribs and your nipple.
“Never dreamed you'd let me get my face on those, love.”
Groggy, it takes a conscious effort on your part to register what he's saying.
“Such a generous thing. It's only right you get payback.”
“You're very… talkative all of a sudden.”
“S'that a problem? Think I'm not putting my tongue to use enough?”
Right after that, said tongue swirl around your nipple and you can feel yourself clench around nothing.
“Or maybe that's just not your thing,” he adds, casually, as if he hadn’t been shamelessly gropping, kissing, licking and sucking your chest.
“I never said that.”
Your reply had been straight off, out of fear that he'd take offense and puts a stop to all this.
“You know what to do to shut me up, anyway.”
You don’t react to his provocative tone, but you’re tempted by the invitation nonetheless— to muffle that smart mouth with your bust…
Just as his focus on your breasts threatens to not suffice you anymore, his thumb insistantly rubbs the apex of your thighs, and you push back against it openly.
“Easy there, sweetheart,” he soothes you, but you can see how pleased he is by your eagerness. “M just gettin’ started.”
Soon enough he disposed of your pants, and he's parting your knees to nuzzle against your inner thigh the way he was against your chest mere moments ago. You can’t help but close them partially, and instantly he's staring you down, eyes brimming with taunt.
“Gonna smother me with your thighs, sweetheart? Like you did with your tits, mh? Better be prepared in case we get ‘interrupted’ again.”
“Fucking hell, Ghost,” you groan, half exasperated, half even more aroused, as he finally steers his head towards your crotch.
#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost cod#ghost smut#cod fanfic#cod fic#cod smut#cod fluff#ghost x reader#forced to repost 😔#mine#1k#cod x reader#x reader
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— if you’ve been naughty, you get…
──────────── 𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞.─
summary: they say that the way you spend the new year’s night is the way you’re going to spend the whole year. you never took this expression to heart until now.
pairing: theo nott x reader
cw: 18+ smut, enemies to lovers, fingering, rough p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, semi-public sex, degrading/praise, cursing, italian pet names
wc: 2.1k
a/n: getting back to kinkmas at last !! enjoy some etl theodore filth babes <3
⟡ navigation ; m.lists ; theo m.list ; kinkmas 2024
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You had absolutely no idea how you ended up at the same party as the guy whose entire goal in life was to make yours as difficult as possible. To be entirely honest, you weren’t any better – your taunting seemed to mirror his in its viciousness, for no apparent reason on both sides. Somewhere, at one point, everything went to shit with you two. At first, it used to cause tensions in the friend group, because you just couldn’t stop constantly bickering and throwing all kinds of insults at each other, but over time, your inexplicable apprehension towards each other became a constant – a very annoying one, but a constant nonetheless.
Pansy promised. She promised that the New Year’s Eve party would stay Theodore Nott-free, he had some prior commitment, blah-blah-blah – irrelevant. Because right now, you were looking straight at his infuriating face as he was pressing you against the wall, his deep ocean eyes you couldn’t admit to finding captivating staring into yours. The sounds of the party were muffled, the beat of the music dully thumping through the narrow corridor, sending faint vibrations through the floor.
“You just couldn’t leave me alone, could you?” you hissed, crossing your arms on your chest in a manner that you hoped would come off as defiant, even though you knew it was a defense – same thing, different flavor.
Theo smirked – the smirk that always made your blood boil, a sign that he was enjoying himself way more than he should have.
“How could I ever leave you alone, tesoro?” he drawled, his voice mocking yet carrying a hint of intensity that you had never heard there before. Then again, with him, you could’ve easily just imagined it. “But if I had to guess, I’d say you can’t stay away from me either. And I wouldn’t be that far off, no?”
You huffed, rolling your eyes at his cockiness – it was in no way a surprise, yet it still made your irritation rise to the very top, bubbling up and threatening to escape in the form of another quip.
“Get your head out of your ass, Nott,” you muttered, raising an eyebrow in a silent challenge.
“Nott?” Theo taunted in response, leaning in just a bit closer – and that tiny little bit made your heart skip a beat, which you found to be a completely uncalled-for reaction. “Last time I checked, I was ‘Theo, please, faster!’.”
“Oh, fuck you.”
You hated the way your cheeks instantly flushed at his reminder – you did not need to remember that night when your entire composure crumbled to pieces, and you ended up in his bed, screaming his name so loud the walls were nearly shaking.
And you felt like you were on the brink of doing it again.
“If you insist,” Theo murmured, his lips now at your ear, nearly brushing against your skin – the bastard knew exactly how to get to you, unfortunately. You gritted your teeth, trying to resist for a fleeting moment, but when his hand slipped onto your waist, you gave up – and in.
“I hate you,” you whispered, roughly grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him into a heated kiss. Theo didn’t even gasp, which made a nasty thought spark up in your mind – he’d been waiting for this all along, and it probably wouldn’t be too far-fetched to guess that it was the only reason he came to the party in the first place. The kiss was all tongue and teeth, a stark mirror to the contradictory feelings you both shared – biting, rough around the edges, yet at the core of it there was passion that neither of you could bother to deny.
In a matter of seconds, both of Theo’s hands were on your hips, effortlessly lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. Your hands flew up to his shoulders, breaking the self-imposed physical barrier of your arms across your chest and also symbolizing the last bits of your composure withering away. Theo knew – he had to have known – that this would happen, because his palm was at the ready, closing around your breast as soon as it was free to touch. He kneaded the softness of your flesh, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip as his hips started slowly but firmly rocking against you. You felt his hard, already throbbing cock pressing into your clothed pussy, and once again, you were somewhat amused by his ability to get hard in seconds.
“Been like this all night, bambina,” Theo murmured into your mouth, as if hearing your thoughts out loud. So, not in seconds. “The moment I saw you in this dress… Fuck.”
His other hand gripped the hem of your sparkly red dress, lifting it up just enough for it to bunch up at your waist. His eyes flicked down for a moment, a needy growl escaping his mouth as he took in the sight of your fishnets doing a very poor job at covering up the red lace of your panties.
“Wore these for me?” he asked teasingly, although his hoarse voice completely betrayed the fact that he was insanely aroused. His fingers traced the edge of the lace with an almost reverent touch before hooking through the hole of your fishnets and suddenly tearing them apart.
Your eyes widened, not quite expecting the roughness, but you knew you should have – Theo wasn’t known to be a patient man when it came to getting what he carnally desired, and at the moment, the object of that desire was you.
“What the–” you started, but he quickly shut you up with a kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth and swirling around, effectively making you moan. The sound only got louder as you felt his fingers sliding over your panties, savoring the wetness that started to seep through the fabric; he wasn’t the only one with a one track mind since the start of the party – the sight of him in his dark green dress shirt, three buttons at the top undone, caught your eye as soon as he stepped into the room.
“Such a wet little pussy for me, huh?” he whispered breathlessly into your mouth, rubbing a circle over your clothed core before easily slipping underneath – the feeling of your soft, drenched skin made him groan, perfectly matching your own sounds. “Wish I could keep you like this all the time… So fucking pliant…”
And shit, you wouldn’t be able to deny his words even if you tried – you were pliant under his touch, you did turn into melted butter as soon as his index and middle finger slipped inside you, you did clench your thighs around his waist as he started pumping in and out. He was just as pliant, though – you could tell by the way his cock was poking into your inner thigh, straining against the fabric of his trousers. If you had half a mind to look down, you would see a wet spot forming at the front, clear evidence of the fact that he wanted you with the same ever-consuming intensity.
You grew a bit bolder, the pleasure making your brain turn off and forget all about your surroundings or the consequences of your encounter. Your hand traveled down, grabbing Theo’s cock and giving it a firm squeeze, as if to remind him that he was as crazy about you as you were about him. A groan fanned against your ear at the small yet impactful action – a satisfying sound of Theo’s need. His fingers curled inside you before sliding out with a wet pop. The next moment, your juices were being spread all over your lips, mixing with your gloss and creating a strange, sticky texture of sweetness mixed with the tartness of your natural slick. You parted your mouth, letting Theo’s fingers in, your lips wrapping around them and starting to suck, lightly, teasingly, as your hand continued palming his cock.
“Playing with the damn fire, tesoro,” Theo warned in a hiss, taking your hand off of him impatiently. “Naughty, naughty girl.”
In response, you only started sucking more, your head moving back and forth on his fingers. Theo’s eyes were fixed intently on your lips, no doubt imagining them wrapped around something else. He hastily unzipped his trousers with his free hand, pulling them down to the middle of his thighs along with his boxers. His erection sprung free, slapping against his shirt-covered stomach. You glanced down, feeling even more turned on as you drank in the sight of his swollen, throbbing cock, knowing that it would be splitting you open very very soon.
And it did. Oh, gods, it did. With a single thrust, Theo entered, his tip immediately reaching your cervix. You moaned around his fingers, your eyes rolling back at the mixture of pain and pleasure – the feelings he could easily elicit in you, both physically and emotionally.
He wasn’t holding back, not in the slightest – his pace was rough and unrelenting, fucking all his frustrations of the last year into you. Your back was moving up and down against the wall, the heated surface scratching your skin, your high heels digging into the small of his back each time he pounded. He didn’t mind the sting, though, just like you didn’t mind the dull ache of his hand digging into your hip, without a doubt leaving marks. Finally, his fingers left your mouth and grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you into yet another sloppy mess that could be called a kiss.
The combined sounds of your moans almost drowned out the chatter of the party, but still, you could faintly hear the crowd starting to chant the countdown to the New Year. You pulled away, ignoring Theo’s disappointed whine for a second, trying to hold back on your own noises as you listened.
“The count– The countdown,” you shakily breathed out, meeting Theo’s glossed-over eyes with your misty gaze. He groaned and shook his head, a clear indication that he wasn’t going to stop, not until you were both panting and sweating.
“Who gives a fuck?” he asked in the same breathless voice as yours, his cock somehow reaching even deeper spots, as if trying to coax any stray thoughts out of your head. “What, scared you’re not getting a New Year’s kiss?”
His ability to tease you even as he was balls deep inside of you made you want to slap him, hard. You almost did it, if only you had the strength to move your limbs.
“Yeah, wanted to make a wish,” you tried to retort, your words sounding less convincing than you’d like them to be. “To never see your stupid face again.”
“Oh really? And here I was, about to wish for your charming self every day.”
You would have rolled your eyes at his usual mocking, but they ended up rolling for a completely different reason as Theo pounded into you with an especially rough thrust at the ‘three’ sounding from the main party room.
At the ‘two’, one of his hands was on your cheek, his thumb pressing into the tender flesh. His eyes were fixed on yours again, the intensity from before making you question if there was any truth behind his words.
At the ‘one’, your lips were crashing together once again as the orgasm washed over the both of you, accompanied by the fireworks blowing up outside. Red bursts of light coming from the window on the other side of the corridor cast your flickering shadows onto the wall, the beautiful sight in the sky barely registering in your fucked out mind. The only thing you could feel at the moment was the warmth of Theo’s cum slowly starting to trickle down your thighs, staining Theo’s pants in the process.
“You know,” he murmured, hoarse and panting, his dampened forehead resting against yours, “you make really nice sounds when I’m fucking you brainless, tesoro. I’ll make sure they’re the only ones you’re making with me all year long.”
You breathed out a small chuckle, closing your eyes as you started to come down from the high you were both still stuck on.
“Is that a threat or a promise, Theo?”
“Both, baby. Both.”
#— witch’s works ☾#— naughty & nice ☾#theo nott#theo nott x reader#theo nott x fem!reader#theo nott x you#theo nott x y/n#theo nott smut#theo nott imagine#theo nott fanfiction#theo nott fic#theodore nott#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x fem!reader#theodore nott x you#theodore nott x y/n#theodore nott smut#theodore nott imagine#theodore nott fanfiction#theodore nott fic#slytherin boys#slytherin boys smut#slytherin boys imagine#slytherin boys fanfiction#slytherin boys fic#support divider by: cafekitsune
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mmm. being the final girl in ghost's slasher movie (dark!ghost x curvy!fem!reader, 18+)
his laughter shakes you to your core. you're cornered, in the very back bedroom under the bed, staring at the dull gaze of your roommate as she bleeds out on the floor.
she's gurgling. she coughs up mouthfuls of blood, and they trail down her neck like a spider web until it pools underneath her head, making the strands of her hair red and sticky. the slit across her throat sputters, and you watch as the white painted bones on the back of his gloves drips with the pretty crimson color. if it wasn't so cruel, if it wasn't blood, it might be artistic.
he takes a thumb and smears the blood over her skin. he draws shapes into her forehead and then both of her cheeks, and you clamp a hand over your mouth to stop from crying as she gasps, reaching up with a shaky hand, halfheartedly trying to push him off, but she's too weak.
he hums when he finishes, and your eyes well up with tears when he knocks her head to the side so she's facing you. he's written three words on her face, one word on her forehead, and then the rest on her cheeks, in her own blood.
I SEE YOU
you scream when he shifts, grabbing onto your ankles and yanking. you claw at the hardwood floor, trying desperately to get away from him, but it's no use. he has you, he found you.
no matter where you go, you've never been able to hide. no matter how far away you think you've gone, it never matters. no matter how long you go without hearing from him, it isn't a comfort, because that usually means the inevitable is coming.
he will never leave you alone. you will never get away. he will find you, he will have you, and every time you escape, it is always just him giving you the illusion of freedom, when in reality, he can have you as easily as he did before.
"givin' me a right headache, luvvie," he murmurs, flipping you over with not so much as a grunt and sitting on your hips. you squirm under him, but this behemoth of a man isn't something you can just push off of you. he's big and heavy, and with all his gear on, he must be thirty pounds heavier. you eye the gun strapped to his chest, but even at this distance, you know it won't matter.
ghost cannot die. that's how he got his fucking name. you've sunk a knife into his stomach before, you've shot him once, you've pushed him off of cliffs and down elevator shafts and watched him sink to the bottom of the fucking ocean, but he cannot die, he won't die, he will never leave me.
"fuck you," you spit, and he chuckles, pulling one of his throwing knives out of his boot and using it to pop the first button off the front of your shirt. it clatters somewhere in the bedroom, and ghost snarls when he sees the lace of your bra.
"expectin' someone?" he growls. "oi! look at me."
you glare up at him, tears sliding down your cheeks, and he uses the sharp edge to pop the rest of the buttons off, your shirt in tatters as it lays loose around your arms. he grunts as he sneaks it under where the cups meet, pulling upwards until he cuts the lace in half. you mewl when your tits bounce, falling free, and his pupils dilate.
"mmmm..." he pushes his mask up, leaning down, and you arch your back when he wraps his lips around one nipple and suckles. you reach up without thinking, your hands finding the back of his head and cradling it as he practically feeds on the fat of your breasts. "know how much you like tha'..."
you whine, and he lets go, pushing the front of his mask into your cheek, licking the skin. you scrunch your face, dirty fucking animal, and he mouths at your jaw.
"'f y'were just a good girl, wouldn't hafta do this," he taunts. you squirm when he lowers himself again, paying attention to the other breast and sucking it into his mouth. "y'make me do it, swee'eart. make me hurt sorry muppets...they're keepin' y'from me. and y'know tha' isn't allowed."
you cry out when he flips you over under him. he shoves your face into the floor, tangling his hand into your hair and yanking on it so that you're looking at your dead roommate, her eyes dull and lifeless as she lays there turning cold.
"look wot y'did," he growls. "look wot y'made me do."
she looks sort of pretty. she did annoy the shit out of you, you won't lie. she looks happier this way. quiet, relaxed, still. it's cathartic, to know that maybe this is what she was meant for. to die, that was her purpose. it makes a little sense.
"'m sorry," you whisper, and ghost loosens his grip on your hair. "'m sorry..."
he kisses the side of your neck, laughing a little.
"now y'r sorry," he says, amused. "y'r mine. when are y'going to learn tha'?"
you put your palms onto the floor, trying to turn over. he eases his weight up to let you, leaning down and putting both hands on either side of your head as he looks down at you. you meet his eyes, sniffling, and you shake your head.
"w-was scared."
"scared?" he tilts his head to the side, licking over his teeth. "scared of wot? would do anythin' for ya."
"i-i know," you sniffle. "just...n-never had anyone that...that would. i-i...i've never had anyone s-so good to me."
he grins, and you shiver a little, but not from fear.
"awww," he shakes his head. "y'r a bad liar, luv."
"i'm not lying--!"
he leans down, licking over your bottom lip, and you whimper.
"prove it," ghost rasps, and you blink up at him, swallowing hard. you push on his chest a little so he eases off of you, and you hook your thumbs into your jeans and shimmy them off. ghost watches carefully, his eyes flickering when you lay bare underneath him, and you bring your knees up before letting them fall. he licks his lips, his grin widening, and he meets your eyes when he sees what he likes. "bloody hell, y'r soaking the fuckin' floor, swee'eart."
you bite your lip, a little shy, and he grips your throat firmly before tugging you up to meet him. he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek, stroking your sweaty hair and humming low.
"y'r gonna run again, aren't ya, baby?"
you nod, closing your eyes, and you let a soft moan slip out when he settles between your spread legs, pressing his pelvis to yours. you feel that familiar hardness, digging into your sex, and you can't help the grind of your hips, wanting to get closer, needing to have more of him. he might be the craziest motherfucker you have ever known, and it's a shame he fucks like a pornstar.
you open your eyes, reaching down, and he smiles wickedly when you unzip his pants, shoving them low until his cock is free. like he knew this would happen, he's been leaking into his boxers, and when you pull him out, the tip is red and wet.
you squeeze your thighs around his waist when he sinks into you, grunting when his thighs press to yours, burying himself deep. you cry, your back bowing sharply, and he smooths his gloved hand down your bare stomach, licking his lips when he trails streaks of blood down your soft skin.
"'s olright," ghost mutters, "quite like chasin' ya. makes y'r cunny taste better. makes y'so fuckin' tight, too, fuck--"
"yeah--" you gasp, and he smiles again, disgusting, filthy, murderous, terrifying.
"say it. say it, and maybe i'll forgive this lil' stunt, and maybe i'll let y'cum." your eyes roll back, and he grips your face tight. "oi! say it!"
"i'm yours! fuck--yes! i'm yours..."
#yooooooooooooo wtf is wrong with me lol#i want him so bad#pleaseeeeeeeeee threaten me ill be so good#praise kink go brrr#possessive kink go BRRR#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost mw2#ghost cod#ghost call of duty#ghost mwii#ghost x reader#cod#call of duty#simon riley smut#simon ghost riley smut#simon thoughts#dark!simon
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🌙Things u should do based on your moon sign🌙
Cancer moon-you should do things that are more related to water (swimming, journaling by the ocean, driving to the ocean, bathing with crystals). Things related to emotions, intuition, something close to your heart. Take time for yourself. Cooking and preparing your favorite foods can be very emotionally fulfilling. Travel can also be part of this. Create a home that feels like a safe haven—a place where you can retreat and recharge. Spend quality time with loved ones, especially those who offer you unconditional care and support. Cancer Moons need to connect emotionally, so make sure you nurture yourself through self-care practices like cooking comfort food, taking long baths, or spending time in the arms of those who truly see you. Allow yourself to process your emotions deeply, and don’t be afraid to show your vulnerability to those you trust.
Pisces moon- you should do more things related to your subconscious. Something that will fulfill your soul. You like to have your private space. You should read more books. Sleep can also be very good for you. You can also you express things through art, music. Walks are also good for the soul. Create a sanctuary where you can retreat from the world. Meditation, artistic expression, and connecting with your intuition will soothe your soul. Compassion is central to your emotional life, so helping others or engaging in spiritual practices will replenish you. Pisces Moons benefit from creative or artistic pursuits that allow them to express their inner world. Embrace your emotional sensitivity and go with the flow of your feelings—don’t suppress them.
Scorpio moon- you should do things that are more related to your body. Sports like kickboxing, judo and other sports. Mainly because you can express your energy through anger. Diving could be one of the things you would also really like. You can really enjoy places that are darker. You like good wine and also a suspenseful series. Embrace emotional catharsis—whether through deep conversations, creative expression, or a form of therapy. Scorpio Moons need to explore their inner world, so journaling, meditation, or soul-searching practices are healing for them. Don’t shy away from emotional intensity or vulnerability—it’s through these moments that Scorpio Moons can truly heal and grow. Allow yourself to transform emotionally and embrace the process of shedding old emotional layers to make room for something new.
Aries moon- you should do more things related to your body and head. Something that motivates you and something you can compete in. Something that sparks passion in you and that you can be active in. You should do more things that involve you and your energy. Anything that involves a purpose gives you will. Find ways to express yourself through movement and energy—whether it's through physical activity, adventure, or taking bold steps towards personal goals. Aries Moons thrive when they can act spontaneously and take charge of their own emotional direction. Solo time to recharge and pursuing their passions is key to their emotional balance. Don't be afraid to ignite that inner fire and tackle things head-on.
Leo moon- you should do more things related to fun. You should express your childish energy more. Hanging out with friends, going to clubs. Something that involves creativity and also drama. Theaters or operas could be potential. Embrace your creative side—whether it's through performance, art, or taking pride in your achievements. Leo Moons thrive when they can be the center of attention, but more importantly, they need genuine admiration and appreciation. Spend time in celebration, whether that’s throwing a party or simply basking in the love of others. Practice self-expression and allow your heart to shine unapologetically.
Virgo moon- you should do more things related to your health, maybe even to other people. Something you can do to help or serve others. Cycling can be something that gives you a lot of joy. Organize your life—both physically and mentally. Creating routines and systems for emotional well-being is essential. Virgo Moons thrive when they feel helpful and productive, so offering practical support to others or engaging in meaningful service will nurture them emotionally. Be kind to yourself and allow for small, incremental steps toward emotional wellness. Mindfulness and small daily rituals can help them maintain emotional clarity.
Taurus moon- you should do more things related to your joy and feelings. Food can often be a part of feeling fulfilled. Listening to music, walking in nature. Gardening can be one of the things that can be very emotionally relaxing. Dinners with friends can make you happy. One of the activities that can be good is pottery. Create a serene sanctuary where you can rest your heart. Surround yourself with soothing, beautiful things—soft blankets, lush plants, and comforting smells. Taurus Moons need to ground themselves through the physical world. Trust in your ability to build a steady foundation for your emotions, and practice patience with yourself as you find emotional peace.
Capricorn moon- you should do more things that are not related to career and work. Even tho not all the capricorns are lovers of working. Maybe you'd be interested in things with history. Also really good book can be good for your mood. Museums can be very relaxing. You are often more productive in the evening, so evening classes can be very good for you. Focus on setting practical goals that align with your long-term vision. Capricorn Moons need to build emotional security through hard work, but they also need to find ways to express their vulnerability in a safe, controlled environment. Establish routines that bring a sense of stability and purpose. Mentorship or guidance from those you respect can also provide emotional support. Invest in your growth through tangible efforts that will lead to emotional fulfillment.
Sagittarius moon-you should do more things related to travel, beliefs, growth. Sports that may be good for you include; hockey, basketball, soccer. Active and daring sports can also be enjoyed as they are (skating, water skiing). You always like to learn something new and you like things that have some meaning. Myths about life and things are interesting to you. Philosophy and sociology are subjects that can excite you. Travel somewhere where is inspiring for you is very good for your soul. Seek out new experiences—whether through travel, learning, or exploring different philosophies. Sagittarius Moons thrive when they feel they can expand emotionally and mentally, so diving into new ideas, cultures, or beliefs helps them grow. Adventure can take many forms- explore your mind, read new books, or embark on a new intellectual or creative pursuit.
Aquarius moon- you should do more things that are related to group or are very different. You love everything related to technology, science, and innovation. Chemistry could be a very relaxing thing for you. Humanitarianism and charity, where there are more people, could be good for you. • Connect with like-minded individuals or engage in group activities that support your ideals and beliefs. Aquarius Moons thrive when they feel they are part of a larger collective or movement. Nurture your individuality and embrace your uniqueness. Self-expression and connection with others who share your progressive visions is key to emotional fulfillment. Take time for reflection and introspection—freedom is essential for your emotional well-being.
Libra moon- you should do more things that are related to other beauty, fashion. You love spending time with others, especially your partner. Which means you like it when you take a day off and spend it with this person and pamper yourself. A concert by your favorite band could cheer you up, a romantic trip, dancing. Shopping for new clothes and makeup is also something that can be very relaxing. Sometimes you can buy things when you're in a bad mood. Spend time with people who make you feel loved and cherished, and avoid those who drain your emotional energy. Work on creating emotional equilibrium, whether by resolving conflicts or seeking fairness. Engage in shared experiences that bring a sense of unity and connectedness.
Gemini moon- you should do more things related to communication, expressing yourself. Reading and writing can be very emotionally fulfilling for you. A very good and quality conversation can make your day better, especially since you are an emotionally stimulating person. You like to follow things you can learn a lot about, like the news. You are distracted by more things, which means that the more options you have, the more emotionally fulfilled you are. Surround yourself with conversations that make you think. Read, write, or take up a new hobby that feeds your curiosity. Journaling your thoughts or talking things out with friends will help you process emotions. Find outlets where you can express yourself freely—Gemini Moons need to be able to process emotionally through words and mental exploration. Find joy in learning new things or experiencing something different each day.
🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸
-Rebekah🌊🧚🏻♀️✨
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Title: Reciprocal.
Pairing: Yandere!Childe x Reader (+Scaramouche) [Genshin].
Word Count: 4.4k.
Written for a very lovely anonymous commissioner.
TW: Modern AU, AFAB!Reader, Non/Con, Oral Sex, Slight Corruption Kink, Cucking, Mentions of Blood/Violence, Obsessive Behavior, Implied Stalking, Reader and Scaramouche Are In A Long-Term Relationship, and Nonconsensual Drug Use. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.
Not a lot of people really understood why you loved your boyfriend as much as he loved you.
Not to say you didn’t get why. You knew he came off – rough, brash, jarring apathetic at best and openly antagonistic at worst. He was jealous, and childish, and you’d chided him more times than you could possibly count for arguing with your friends and picking fights with strangers and generally treating the world like a malicious, erratic entity that’d either take you away from him or turn you against him if given even the slightest chance. He wasn’t possessive, or over-protective, just… worried. In a line of work like his, he had a good reason to be, but that wasn’t exactly something you could explain to other people.
Kuni was aggressive, and loud, and disruptive. But, he was kind, too, and he had a soft spot for kids and animals, and he knew how to be gentle with you, even though you’d never taken the time to teach him. He bristled and pouted when you mentioned doing something without him, sure, but he’d never put his fist through a wall or pretended he could ever spend any amount of time mad at you, even if he didn’t like the things that took you away from him. His job was dangerous, and he had a right to be paranoid, but it didn’t matter how much of a drooling, snapping guard dog he made himself out to be to the rest of the world – not when he came home and fell into your arms, as docile and as loving as a housecat. Most importantly, Kuni loved you, and that was enough for you to love him just as much.
Hence why you panicked when you woke up hours past midnight to an empty apartment, the space next to you cold where your Kuni should’ve warmed it. Hence why you didn’t think twice before getting out of bed when you noticed an unread text sent from Kuni, asking you to meet him at his coworker’s apartment, vaguely hinting at an injury bad enough to keep him from coming straight home to you. Hence why you were now on that coworker’s doorstep, barely dressed and still holding your breath, in the middle of the night. Because you knew that Kunikuzushi loved you.
And, unfortunately, you loved him too.
You’d already knocked – twice, in fact – but you couldn’t hold still. You checked your phone. You tried to call Kunikuzushi, but to no avail – cutting straight to his voicemail after the first ring. You glanced to either side, wary of having to explain yourself to any passing residents before remembering that you were standing in front of the door to a penthouse in a building that seemed to balk at the idea of having more than one tenant per floor. Finally, you raised your hand to knock a third time, but the door swung inward before you had a chance. An ocean’s worth of relief washed over you all at once, and mindlessly, you threw yourself forward, wrapping your arms around Kuni’s ne—
“Woah there.” And then, with an airy laugh, “It’s good to see you too, (Y/n).”
You jerked back suddenly enough to throw yourself off-balance, but a pair of hands caught you by the shoulders, keeping you on your feet. For the first time, you thought to glance up, to recognize that the man in front of you was very much not your boyfriend and that you’d had very little reason to believe it would be. It took you a long second of staring blankly at his disheveled ginger hair and startlingly bright eyes for you to place him as ‘Childe’ – Kuni’s coworker, probably the one he complained about the most often. You’d known him as long as you’d known Kuni – met them on the same day, in fact – but the two of you weren’t close. He was the extraverted type, friendly to the point of agitation. The type of person that you felt exhausted after so much as thinking about spending time with, for lack of a kinder way to put it.
That didn’t matter, though. You’d spend the rest of your life singing his praises if he told you that Kuni was alright.
“Childe, where’s K—” You cut yourself, trying to remember what Kuni had asked you to call him around his work-friends. “Where’s Scaramouche?”
Another laugh, this one more full-bodied than the last. “Right, right. You’re just like him – all business, no pleasure.” He stepped back, retreating into his apartment and gesturing for you to follow. “Could you lock the door behind you? We’ve already had a pretty rough night.”
You nodded vacantly, only half-listening as you scuttled into his apartment and hastily slid the most accessible four out of a total six deadbolts into place. Childe walked ahead of you, making his way to an open kitchenette and riffling through his cabinets as he went on. “Sorry for dragging you all the way out here. Normally, I try to keep this place reserved for espionage-purposes only, but tonight was kind of an emergency. I’d give you the details, but—” He flashed you a smile, fishing two mismatched mugs from the highest shelf. “Ignorance is bliss, right?”
It took a remarkable amount of self-restraint not to scream. “Did Scaramouche get hurt?”
“Coffee? Tea? I’ve got wine, too, if you need something stronger.” You crossed your arms over your chest, digging your nails into your sleeves. “Oh, actually, maybe I don’t. Like I said, I’ve got a homier place out of the city, but my younger sister really loves the vi—”
“Childe.” Your tone was curt, cutting. Immediately, he shut his mouth, looking towards you. You sighed, taking pains to emphasize each individual word, as if he wouldn’t hear your desperation unless you all-but spelled it out for him. “Is. My. Boyfriend. Alive?”
Immediately, his expression softened. “Of course, angel – didn’t I mention that? He just got a little banged up. I think he’s still sleeping it off in my bedroom.” Instantly, you crumpled into yourself, shutting your eyes and letting out a deep, relieved exhale. Childe didn’t move to comfort you, but his voice took on a softer undertone – like he was trying to be a little more sympathetic. “I’m sorry. I should’ve known you’d want to see him right away, but it’s so late, and you seemed so worried, I figured a pick-me-up might be…” He struggled, his head lulling to the side. “…helpful?”
And people wondered why you preferred Kuni. At least he pretended to respect your time.
But, you were in Childe’s home, and he was right – it was very late and you were very, very tired. “…tea would be nice,” you admitted, collapsing into the nearest seat – the stool at a small, impeccably clean bar attached to his kitchen. “Thank you. And I’m sorry, it’s just— It can just be so much, especially with what happened to Signora. The stress gets to me, sometimes.”
Childe hummed. In less than a minute, a mug of hot, murky tea was set in front of you, and you drank greedily – suddenly aware of how strung-out you felt after rushing half-way across the city in the middle of the night. If he cared about your manners (or lack thereof), you couldn’t tell. Childe only grinned as he sat down next to you, propping his chin on his fist. “Honestly, I’m surprised he even told you about all this. My siblings still think I’m a toy salesman.” It was your turn to stifle a laugh. You were so used to Kuni that it was difficult to imagine him passing himself off as anything less than what he was. To a lesser extent, that went for Childe, too. His ‘innocent big brother’ act couldn’t have been very convincing. “It’s amazing that you’ve stayed with him. There aren’t a lot of people who’d put up with that, and Scaramouche doesn’t seem like the appreciative type.”
You shrugged, draining your mug entirely. “He’s hard to read, but he cares about me,” you replied, when you were finished. “The least I could do is care about him, too. Even if I do kinda wish he’d make it a little easier for me.”
Childe didn’t respond, not immediately. When you looked to him, his smile had softened into something more sincere, more sentimental. “Lucky guy,” he muttered, and you were suddenly aware of how long he’d been staring at you. “When you’re all mine, I promise I won’t stay out a second past midnight.”
It took you a moment to catch his phrasing (‘when’ rather than ‘if’), another to process why such a simple slip-up was enough to make your stomach turn. Rather than address it, you let your eyes fall back into your lap and drummed your fingertips nervously against the side of your mug. “…do you think Scaramouche’s awake, yet?”
“Oh, angel.” He leaned toward you, cocking his head to the side. The gesture didn’t seem as innocent as it had a few minutes ago. “You really believed that? And here I thought you just wanted to spend a little more time with me.”
Alright. Cool. Great. Without thinking, you tried to stand, but your body was suddenly uncooperative, less numb and more woefully disobedient. You tried to get your feet on the ground, to grip the edge of the bar, but as soon as you tried to lift your own weight, you crumpled; buckling onto the countertop as Childe watched on, passive and simpering. You tried to open your mouth, to yell, but your jaw suddenly felt so slack, your tongue heavy and beyond your control. It was all you could do to snap towards Childe, your panic silent but more than apparent. He just shook his head, letting out a low whistle as he pushed himself onto his feet.
“Your little boyfriend mentioned that you were a lightweight. I didn’t think it’d be this bad, though.” You felt his arm wrap around your waist, another looping under the bend of your knees. Effortlessly, he lifted you off of your stool and hauled you against his body, your shoulder knocking clumsily into his chest. You felt something nuzzle into the side of your neck, and choose to believe it wasn’t his face. “Can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting for this,” he muttered, his voice low and his delight palpable. “Try to keep your eyes open. I promise, I won’t do anything unless I know you’re here to enjoy it, too.”
The sentiment provided less comfort than he seemed to think it would.
Your body might’ve been out of your control, but you were still very much conscious and, even worse, very much aware. Your eyes flitted over the blank walls of his apartment as he passed through different rooms and hallways, eventually coming to a door nestled as far from the main body of the apartment as possible. With a shallow grunt, Childe shouldered it open and stepped into a bedroom – this space only slightly more personalized than the rest of his apartment. The walls were still that bland, non-descript grey, the bed sheets a respectable wine red, but you caught a wallet and phone left on the otherwise untouched dresser, the disparate pieces of a blood-stained suit hanging in the closet he’d left open. A few polaroids of a figure you couldn’t make out were piled on the bedside table, and your boyfriend was slumped over in a chair in the far right corner.
…
Okay, so maybe your mind was a little more affected than you’d thought.
Childe hadn’t been lying when he said Kuni got hurt. His shirt was unbuttoned, pushed far back on his shoulders, revealing the bandages wrapped around his shoulder, his side – both visibly damp with fresh blood. More damningly, he was restrained. Even at a glance, you could make out the silver cuff binding his wrists to the arms of his chair, the braided ropes doing the same for his ankles. He’d been gagged, but not blindfolded. You’d never seen his eyes so wide.
No amount of paralytics could’ve stopped you from thrashing against Childe’s loose hold. You squirmed and writhed, kicking weakly at his legs and shoving haphazardly at his chest – doing whatever you could just to get away from him. “K-Kuni,” you called, your voice hoarse and trembling. You heard him try to say something behind his gag, but if it was anything intelligible, it’s meaning was lost behind the buzzing in your ears, the sound of blood rushing through your veins. Childe made a half-hearted attempt to hush you, and you snapped in his direction, baring your teeth. “Let me go, I can’t—He’s hurt—”
“He’s fine, babydoll. Don’t pay him any mind.” You tried to throw your elbow into his stomach, but there was no real force behind the blow – a kitten burrowing its milk teeth into the throat of a lion. “Kuni…” He mumbled as if you hadn’t moved at all. “Is that his real name? You can call me ‘Ajax’, if you want. I don’t mind Childe, though, not when you’re the one saying it.”
You could’ve strangled him. You might’ve if he hadn’t abruptly dropped you, letting your body collapse onto the center of his bed. You made a desperate attempt to scramble to the nearest edge, but you’d barely hauled yourself onto your knees before he was on top of you - his hands around your waist, nudging you gently onto your back. Again, you tried to struggle, but all you managed to scrape up was an airy fractured whimper quickly drowned out by Childe’s laugh, the weight of his body as it slotted against yours. One hand remained on your waist while the other pressed into the mattress next to your head, his chest a hair’s width from making contact with yours. You’d never known Childe very well, and yet, it still surprised you to see just how lifeless his eyes seemed, when you thought to look closely.
“I’ve wanted to do this since the day we met,” he muttered, nearly under his breath. “We were on a job, had some time to kill between clients. He didn’t even notice you, just saw that I was about to get my hands on something I liked and decided to be competitive. I’m sorry about that. I shouldn’t have let him get to you first.”
He paused, his smile taking on a manic note. “I’ll never let it happen again.”
And then, he was kissing you. Surprisingly, you quickly found that you preferred his rambling. It was messier than it had any right to be, considering he was the only one moving. You liked the way Kunikuzushi kissed you – delicately, tenderly, never quite trepidatious but always careful enough to warrant your active and enthusiastic participation, if you wanted anything more than a quick peck to your cheek. Childe wasn’t Kunikuzushi, though, and he wasn’t careful with you – at least, no more careful than he had to be to make sure his teeth didn’t draw blood as they scraped clumsily over your lips. His tongue raked over yours, and as far as you could tell, he wasn’t happy unless he was on the verge of tearing your jaw from its hinges and making it that much easier for him to crawl inside of you. You were thankful when he finally pulled away, but it was difficult to appreciate the way he panted against the curve of your neck; pressing long open mouthed kisses into vulnerable skin as his hands fumbled with the hem of your top. You tried to sit up, to see Kuni, but you were too weak to speak, let alone move. That might’ve been a small mercy, in retrospect. The last thing you needed to see was the love of your life’s expression while his polar opposite sunk his teeth into your throat.
Your shirt went first – dragged over your head as Childe pulled you into another hasty kiss, this one blessedly short-lived when compared to the first. You’d gotten dressed in a rush, meaning you weren’t wearing anything underneath your shorts, something Childe acknowledged with a sharpened edge to his grin, a hopeful murmur of “All for me?” He pried himself off of you as he worked, settling into the space between your open legs. You heard something heavy and forceful slam into the wall on the other side of Childe’s bedroom, but didn’t process that it must’ve been Kuni for long, blissful minutes.
It was only when you felt his hand cup your cunt that you snapped back into your own mind – your hands darting to his wrist, as if that would be a violent enough protest to stop him. Of course, it wasn’t, and of course, his expression only grew more saccharine as he ran two fingers down the length of your slit, his gazing fixed unblinkingly on the apex of your thighs. “So pretty…” And then, making no attempt to hide his self-satisfaction, “Scara’s never been this nice to you, has he?”
Despite your lack of control, you felt your entire body stiffen. “You can’t—”
“But, angel, I think I have to.” He leaned down, his lips brushing over your navel, then the arch of your pelvic bone. “Can’t just let a pussy this pretty go to waste, now, can I?”
You shut your eyes, but not quickly enough. You still caught the sight of Childe’s hand curling around your thighs, of his tongue lapping over your cunt before everything went dark.
It was difficult to say why you and Kuni never slept together. Part of it was mutual aversion – he was cagey about everything, his body included, and even with more readily intimate partners, you’d never really had an interest in sex, especially if it meant pushing Kuni into something you didn’t want and that he wasn’t comfortable with. You’d been more than happy not to think about it at all, but looking back, you wished you had leaned a little more into it, if only so you weren’t so startled by the heat of Childe’s mouth against your pussy. Immediately, it was too much – your thighs snapping shut around his head as his tongue laved over you, circling your clit, dipping into your entrance. Childe only let a throaty moan, deep enough to leave you clenching your eyes shut that much tighter, gritting your teeth as you swallowed back your reactions – pained or otherwise. There was no way Kuni, your Kuni could’ve ever thought you were enjoying this, but still. You didn’t want to make this any harder for him than it had to be.
(You made a point of not thinking about yourself. You didn’t know if you’d be able to survive this, if you made the mistake of considering how you were supposed to live with yourself when it was over.)
For all his talk, he couldn’t have had much experience. He was experimental, overeager – never satisfied with abusing your clit or attempting to fuck his tongue into you when he could be splitting his attention between both. Eventually, one of his hands fell away from your thigh, his middle and ring fingers slipping into your (admittedly, humiliatingly accommodating) entrance and splitting apart, adding yet another sensation to the list of things you’d spend the rest of your life trying to forget. You wanted to cover your face, to pry his head out of the space between your thighs, but lifting your arms seemed like a Herculean task, and the most you could manage was digging your nails into the bed sheets and hoping, praying that it would be over soon.
It was a few seconds later that, with a bittersweet tinge, you realized you’d get what you wanted.
Childe was sloppy, but effective – a soldier left untrained but devoted to the cause, nonetheless. You felt something alien and amorphous tighten in your lower stomach, a new pressure joining the hollow weight in your chest as he curled his fingers and found something sensitive, something vulnerable, something easy to exploit. It would’ve been better to brace yourself, to pretend it wasn’t happening at all, but panic instantly overshadowed your sense of logic, and your mouth was open before you had a chance to stop yourself. “Don’t,” you spat, reaching out blindly, your hand finding his hair. This time, his reaction was less of a moan and more of a growl. “Please, stop, stop—”
If he cared whether you were begging him to get away from you or singing his praises, you couldn’t tell. He seemed to melt, nuzzling into the plush of your thigh while burying his face that much deeper into your cunt. You could feel his smirk bite into your skin as his lips sealed around your clit and sucked. Instantly, you were thrown over the ledge; your body stiffening as your vision burnt white behind your eyelids. It was a miracle that you managed not to moan, but the prolonged, wavering whine that was forced out of you instead wasn’t much better.
Your self-restraint was a miracle, and Childe’s impatience was a mercy. He drew back hastily, his mouth finding the inside of your thigh, then the jut of your hipbone – eager to keep some part of you pressed against some part of him at all times. It would’ve been more bearable if that kept his mouth too busy to talk, and yet, he still found a way to strip you of even that comfort. “So good for me,” he mumbled, interrupted constantly by his own desperate need to suck and lap at every softened, tender spot you had. “I knew he had to be neglecting you, no way someone like him could ever take care of something like this. You don’t have to worry – I’m not gonna be that mean to you. I couldn’t, even I wanted to.” He paused, bowing his head and stifling a laugh. “Don’t think I could ever go another day without taking care of that pretty pussy.”
But, his altruism proved short-lived. With a raspy groan, he pulled away from you, allowing just enough distance for the sound of shifting fabric and the sudden heat of something vile and unthinkable to fill the space. Again, you were talking before you could stop yourself – as if you hadn’t already tried asking him not to. As if the sound of your voice had done anything but spur him on. “Please don’t, I’m not—I haven’t—” And then, meeting his prying gaze, as every thought seemed to catch and stick in your throat, “I’ve never done this before, Ajax.”
He stopped moving above you, but his eyes never broke away from yours. “You’re a virgin?”
It seemed so juvenile when he said it aloud, so trivial. Reluctantly, you nodded.
Impossibly, his expression seemed to brighten.
He was so annoyingly vocal. There was another soft groan as he straightened his back, a grunt with no real strain behind it as he pulled your limp body into his arms. You almost let yourself relax as he carried you off of the bed and across the bedroom, but any relief you might’ve been able to feel evaporated in an instant as he all-but dropped you in front of Kunikuzushi, now rigid in his restraints. You could see dried tear tracks tracing lines down his cheeks, a hostile grimace in the corner of his lips. He must’ve been crying, but he wasn’t anymore. That was good. You’d always hated seeing Kuni cry.
Unable to support yourself, you started falling towards him, but Childe was there to catch you – his arm winding around your waist, pulling you into his lap. “You’re so perfect,” he muttered, before looking toward Kuni. “Be thankful. You’ve got the best seat in the house.”
There was a second of stilted silence, a reassuring squeeze to your side. Distantly, you felt Childe bury his face in the crook of your neck and drag you flush against him, aligning the head of his leaking cock with your entrance. His hips ground into your ass in a reflexive, sort of bucking motion, and just like that, he was inside of you.
You heard Childe’s breath catch, then a whimper in your own voice. At the same time, something cracked, and you noticed that Kuni was gripping the arm of his chair with enough force to splinter the wood. You hoped he wouldn’t hurt himself.
Childe proved to be tragically energetic. With another partner, your paralysis might’ve made things difficult, but he seemed more than happy to bounce you in his lap, grinding and thrusting into you from below in turns, moaning and mewling whenever your traitorous body tightened around him. Again, you found yourself wishing that you’d rushed Kuni just a little more – if only so you’d be better at blocking out the feeling of defined veins grinding against the walls of your cunt, of his considerable size stretching you to your limits. His hands were everywhere – kneading at your chest, groping for purchase near your waist, rubbing quick, tight, awful little circles into your clit – but you did your best not to care, not to react, not to acknowledge the airy gasps and miserable sobs trickling past your lips every time Childe’s body pressed flat against yours. You could hear him talking, something about ‘the next nine months’ and ‘loving husband’, but the specifics were lost on you. You’d never been able to stand the sound of his voice, and tonight hadn’t done much to endear you to it.
His climax (and, by extension, yours) was embarrassing. Best not to mention it.
The sound of Childe’s panting filled the room, only occasionally accompanied by your little, pitiful cries. His grip loosened at some point, most likely to let him admire the way his cum dripped from your entrance where it was still stretched around his cock, and only half-intentionally, you lulled into Kuni’s lap, crossing your arms over his legs and staring blankly at his beautiful face. It took a few tries, but eventually, you managed to reach up and hook your thumb around his gag, pulling it down with some effort. As the thin piece of fabric fell limp around his neck, he spoke.
“I’m going to kill him.” And then, his voice still cold as ice, “I love you.”
For the first time, you weren’t sure you entirely believed him.
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