#F!Reader

[ghouljams]

Gaz knows he's your child's father in the regency au, how could he not? He'll never forget the soft noble girl that made her way to the officer's quarters with a fire in her eyes. How out of place you'd seemed sneaking along with the ladies more used to that sort of thing. How you'd sighed and pet your hand over his head when he put his mouth on you, and told him he was so much better than you ever would have imagined. He could never, he would never, forget the way you clung to him as he eased his cock inside you. The tinge of blood on the sheets the softly spoken vow that he'd find you again, the rejection.

"Just to take me off the market." You'd told him, and he'd felt his blood boil at the thought that you could be taken from him after this. But you were gone in the morning without giving your name, and he was deployed for harder beds.

The one that got away, the diamond that never wanted to be a diamond, the woman he'd spend the rest of his deployment thinking about every time he had a spare moment to wrap his fingers around his aching cock. And when he found out about the perfect little baby you'd had? The one with his smile and warm complexion. Of course he couldn't let you get away a second time. He was already intent on marrying you, this just sealed the deal.

#cod x reader #x reader #x oc #cod x oc #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz x you #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz mw2 #gaz modern warfare #gaz cod #gaz x reader #gaz call of duty #oc: birdie #f!reader #regency au #im thinking many regency thoights today

[cordeliawhohung]

Core, what about a bit of competition with ps! Gaz? Some new girl who think's she's already the darling of the studio takes a liking to Gaz, but finds out about his ties with reader.

The one time she gets to film with Gaz, she overplays her role and absolutely covers his neck, collar, shoulder, everything with hickeys, hoping it will deter the reader.

So imagine her shock when the next day, she pops into his dressing room and finds the reader in there as well, applying foundation over the marks and littered with dozens from Gaz himself. ❤️

(I realize how dumb this sounds as an ask but it's been rotting my brain for days and I desperately need it gone so I can focus on my college classes 😭)

thanks this has also been rotting my brain because i just love putting people in their place (: more ps!gaz here <3

The crux of your ass sits in perfect place on Kyle's thighs while your legs straddle the expanse of his hips. Warm hands rest on your waist as you manhandle his jaw, tilting his head side to side to get better access to his neck. Thick, round hickeys litter the delicate skin around his throat and down to his shoulders in angry, red pinpoint marks that break the beautiful and even tone of his skin with something revolting. They look like proper bruises rather than the after effects of a... wild video shoot. As if someone had tried to strangle him rather than make love to him.

You remember the video well, along with that new model with her fake blonde hair and even faker tan that they had paired Kyle with to shoot the other day. You had only seen her in person one time, and you vividly recall the way her blue eyes rolled over your body, assessing every inch of you before ultimately deciding you were worth very little time. Confidence was a must when you worked in the porn industry, but her attitude borders on an arrogance you haven't seen since your teenage years in public school.

As you apply yellow color corrector onto the dark marks on his skin, you nearly shiver as the images of her stained lips suckling on Kyle's neck flood your mind. There was little room to feel jealousy about her ravaging your favorite co-star when you were too busy cringing. So childish. Over zealous. You nearly cried tears of laughter when you noticed Kyle's expression, grimacing at the wet tongue and annoying teeth that nipped at him, yet still having to pretend to enjoy it. Even the comments on the video joked about it.

Put him back with the other model.

"If I didn't know any better, I would have thought someone tried to strangle you," you tease.

"She might as well have," Kyle sighs. He adjusts his shoulders against the back of the chair, bare pecs flexing with the movement, bringing your attention to the uncovered marks that line his collarbone. "Haven't been able to go out in public without a goddamn turtleneck 'cause of her."

You chuckle as you finish applying and buffing out the rest of the color corrector along his skin. It leaves him looking sickly and discolored, which oddly enough is an improvement to what it looked like before. Setting the corrector to the side, you grab foundation next, hips swaying as you attempt to get some movement in your aching knees. Holding that position for so long without moving had them burning with fatigue.

"Need a break, doll?" Kyle prompts, hands sliding from your waist to your thighs.

"Don't know if we have time for a break. Got a lot of ground to cover before we start," you humor.

Kyle sits forward, throwing you off balance, yet he doesn't let you sway very far before his arms wrap around you, hands supporting your back. Adoring eyes crease as a grin floods his face. Even without the aid of studio lights he glows like a god as he leans closer and places a kiss on your neck.

"Show can't start without us," he says, teeth grazing your skin as he wanders down to your collarbone. "Could always give you a few hickeys to match, if you want."

He doesn't wait for you to answer before his tongue glides across your clavicles just for his teeth to follow right after. A chuckle rumbles in his chest at the tightening of your legs around his hips, and his hands only pull you closer. It doesn't take much for you to give in. Head rolling back, muscles melting as his lips conquer everything you're willing to give him. It's a delicate softness mixed with a brutal bite, something that leaves you gasping as he pulls the very air from your lungs and feeds on the sounds.

Kyle is more starved for you than usual. Sick of the fake, over dramatic screeching he got last week with that other model, he's hungry for the real thing. Hungry for you.

The unopened foundation falls free from your loose fingers and rolls along the floor into some forgotten corner when his hands wander underneath your shirt. It's a dance he has memorized; unclasping your bra without a second thought and tearing both it and your shirt off in a single, swift motion. He gives you little time to recover before his mouth is on your tits, kissing a sparse trail until he's rolling a perky nipple between his lips.

His bare skin feels like heaven underneath the palm of your hands as you grip his shoulders for stability. He'd take you on the cold, dressing room floors, you knew he would. A part of you wanted him to. Fuck the shoot, they should've learned well enough to put cameras in the dressing rooms by that point with how handsy Kyle Garrick always was with you.

"Can't wait until we get on set to try and undo me?" you ask breathlessly.

"Doll, I'll undo you right here and then again on set if you asked me to," he mumbles into your skin.

A quiet squeak interrupts your moment and the ambiance of the room shifts when the door to Kyle's dressing room opens. His hands grow stiff against your spine as you look over your shoulder at the figure in the doorway. You smell her perfume before you recognize her. Something drowning and floral, like a mall department store. It burns your nose, yet you're too distracted by the slack-mouth surprise etched onto the features of the new blood's face.

It's cute; her confusion. How her eyes flicker over your bare back and Kyle's hands pressed against your skin like he's cradling the only thing he cares for in the world. The dots just can't quite connect in her mind as to why he hasn't completely fallen for her yet, as if the only way she knows how to lure men is by butchering their neck with discolored marks. She can't comprehend why he'd rather have you in his lap than her.

Kyle draws a shocked groan from you when his teeth nip at your shoulder, and your eyes have no choice but to fall away from the woman in the doorway as he pulls you closer to him. His chin gently rests on your shoulder as he stares at the model, hands moving to rest on your hips.

"Need somethin?" he asks, bored.

There is very little you wouldn't have given to see the look on her face, but the small huff followed by the door slamming shut is good enough. Small giggles rattle your body as you lean back to get a better look at Kyle, as if your body would throw a fit if he wasn't within your sight. There's an inexplicable relief that floods his face as he looks up at you, and he mirrors your smile.

"What?" he defends. "Only asked her if she needed somethin."

"I think you broke her heart," you patronize.

"She'll live," he mumbles, lips falling against the crook of your neck again. "Your heart is the only one I care about, anyway."

#pornstar!gaz #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x reader smut #cod smut #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader smut #f!reader

[buccini555]

𝐓𝐨𝐤𝐲𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭: 𝐬/𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐮𝐝𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞

★ H e a d c a n o n s, fem reader.ᐟ

★ They reacting to y/n walking around the house practically without clothes

★ 𝑭𝒕. Kakucho Hitto, Izana Kurokawa, Manjiro Sano, Kazutora Hanemiya, Ran Haitani, Rindou Haitani, Sanzu Haruchiyo and Hanma Shuji

★ Suggestive words, petnames (baby girl, baby)

𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐨

He would have just returned home and it wouldn't take long for him to notice the presence of his girlfriend, as soon as he noticed that she was walking through the house practically naked at first Kakucho would be a little thoughtful about why she was walking like that, but it would end questioning her at the same time.

"We'd better go to my room, don't you think?" Hugging the girl from behind and holding onto her waist, he would ask gently.

𝐈𝐳𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚

In front of his aquarium Izana would be busy watching his goldfish when he noticed the presence of his girlfriend passing by in the hallway in front of his room, as soon as he saw her and noticed her lack of clothes, Izana immediately turned all his attention to the girl, getting up and going after her.

"What do you want, baby girl?" Holding her waist, he would question in a low tone of voice.

𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐫𝐨 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐨

Manjiro would be as distracted as he had just woken up, even so, when he suddenly saw his girlfriend walking around the house practically naked, he would stay awake at the same moment, going to the girl curious to know why she was walking like that.

“Y/n, are you okay?” With a small smile, he would say as he approached his girlfriend.

𝐊𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐚 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐲𝐚

He would have just arrived home and would sit on the sofa to rest for a while, but suddenly he would see his girlfriend walking around the house, at first, Kazutora wouldn't pay much attention until he saw that the girl was practically undressed, when he realized , he got up and went after her at the same moment.

“Isn’t it too late for you to tease me like that, Y/n?” Hugging her from behind in surprise, he would speak in a mischievous tone.

𝐑𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐢

Ran had practically just woken up and was having his breakfast in the kitchen, when he turned around at the counter, he immediately saw his girlfriend walking practically naked down the hallway, at the same moment, Ran went to the girl and gently held her by the arm.

"Let's go to my room and sort this out before Rindou wakes up." Letting out an ironic laugh with a subtle smile, he would say, taking the girl towards his room.

𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐢

Lying on the bed, Rindou was just listening to some music with the bedroom door open, from the corner of his eye, he saw his girlfriend walk through the hallway practically naked, at the same time, he got up, leaving his things aside and went to the girl , Rindou gently held her arm and brought her to her room.

"Are you crazy, Y/N? Do you want my brother to end up seeing you like this?" Placing a blanket over the girl's body, he spoke, trying not to be distracted by her body.

𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐲𝐨

Haruchiyo was lying in bed just about to fall asleep, but upon seeing his girlfriend passing through the hallway in front of the room without wearing any type of clothes, Sanzu would immediately wake up, leaving his sleep aside at that exact moment as he wondered why. of the girl being like that.

He would get up, go to the girl and grab her by the waist. "What are you doing, baby?" Pulling Y/n closer to him, Haruchiyo would question in a serious tone.

𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐦𝐚 𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐣𝐢

He would be distracted smoking a cigarette on the balcony while watching the cars pass by on the street, as soon as he turned around after finishing his cigarette, Hanma would be surprised to see his girlfriend walking around the house with practically no clothes on.

"What are you doing? You're not cold, are you?" Going up to the girl and hugging her from behind, he would ask with a sideways smile.

#kakucho tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers kakucho #izana imagines #izana headcanons #mikey headcanon #tokyo revengers manjiro sano #hanemiya kazutora #kazutora tokyo revengers #ranhaitani #haitani ran #rindou fanfic #rindou haitani headcanons #sanzu tokyo revengers #sanzu haruchiyo headcanons #tokyo revengers hanma #hanma tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers #tokyorev headcanons #tokyo rev x you #tokyo rev #tokyorevengersheadcanons #tokrev #tokyorev x reader #tokyorevengers #tokyo rev hcs #tokyo revengers x female reader #f!reader #tr x y/n #tokyo revengers x you #tokyo revengers headcanons

[midnightarcheress]

Simon thinks he could live like this.

pairing: bodyguard!ghost x actress!reader cw: nothing he's just down bad 7 | gold rush masterlist.

“are you insane?!” Daniel shouts, slamming the door behind him and stomping his feet towards Simon with a menacing look, “you think you can just move her around like this?”

“she wasn’t safe in that house, this is for her protection,” he answers promptly, crossing his arms and taking a step in front of you, covering your frame from the irate man. if he could, he’d land a punch on his face in no time, not caring that technically he’s his boss.

“yeah? and you simply have to be here with her, right?” he scoffs, rolling his eyes at him. you watch the scene unfold from behind Simon, brows knitted together and bottom lip nearly bleeding from biting too much. he’d managed to momentarily tranquillize you, bring you back to earth after the terrifying panic state, but the anxiety kept simmering underneath your skin, just waiting for another chance to take over your body.

“the shitty security system you put in her house wasn’t enough to prevent the bastard from intrudin’, the bloody alarm didn’t even go off,” he retorts, eyes shooting daggers straight ahead, “so yeah, i’m gonna stay with her for as long as it’s necessary. contract says to protect her, doesn’t it?” 

the two of them stay quiet, a silent staring competition on Daniel’s side, a mere warning on Simon’s side. he won’t budge, won’t allow you to go back to that house, hand you on a silver platter to the grim reaper hiding behind letters and eerie messages. 

Dan leans on his side to look at you, ignoring the mass of a man in front of him. “are you sure about this?” his tone is strangely soft, like a switch flipped in his mind, all anger vanishing. you nod, offering him a small smile that does a poor job of concealing how nervous you are about the situation. he purses his lips, taking one last glance at Simon’s unwavering posture before sighing in defeat.

it’s been two weeks since the mirror message that led Simon into comforting you, and two weeks since he had to control his own panic, trying his best not to spiral. it had been a while since he shared a living space, so staying with you feels like a dream that he’s constantly afraid of turning into a nightmare by saying the wrong thing, acting the wrong way, or even thinking about what’s happening. 

the safe house Price arranged is far from the size you’re used to, being at least three times smaller than your own house. but to his surprise, again, your reaction to it contradicts his expectations. it could just be you being a phenomenal actress, covering your resentment behind a beaming smile, but you seemed to have grown accustomed to his presence easily, didn’t protest once, never lamented the loss of luxury and privacy.

he wanted to deny the feeling, shove it deep down in his brain and lock the safe, but it was nice, the domesticity of it all. it was nice learning little details about your routine; how you only get out of bed the second time your alarm rings; how you’re definitely not a morning person, judging by the gruff good morning you mumble when you slide to the counter stool; how you love trying new recipes and quietly dance in the kitchen, freezing when you notice him watching you; or how you’re always carrying something to read, it being a book or a script.

it was nice making you coffee in the morning and seeing you rub your sleepy eyes, nice hearing you humming a song in the shower, nice catching a glimpse of you in lingerie when you forget to lock your bedroom door, nearly making him choke in his own spit by the sight of the small tattoo on your hip. is it a star? a flower?

he felt like he was playing house with you. a game where you’re his loving wife and he’s a devoted husband, where he could feed his delusions, live everything he was convinced he’d never have in this lifetime. inside those walls, he could do it all, except the one thing he longed the most – touch you. kiss the top of your head when you’re baking in the kitchen, run his fingers through your hair when you’re curled up on the couch, feel your soft skin under his fingertips when you lay in bed, bend you over the table when you pass by him in skimpy pyjama shorts.

“do you... wanna watch a movie?” you ask, remote in hand and head leaned back on the sofa, chewing the inside of your cheek and attentively glaring at the television. he tilts to the side, stirring his thoughts away and taking in the view of your features illuminated by the bright lights coming from the screen. it was easy to get lost in how beautiful you were, a magical creature brought to earth to bewitch him. 

your head suddenly shifts to where he’s sitting, and it hits him that you’re still expecting an answer. fuck. “uh, yeah, sure.” he mumbles, snapping back to the telly, swallowing the desires his throat dared to spill.

later that day, Simon steps onto the front porch for a much-needed nicotine fix, dark blues painting the sky as the last rays of sunlight vanish from the horizon. he hates the burning sensation of the smoke in his lungs, but always craves the lightheadedness and dopamine flush in his veins, no matter how many years it takes from his life. 

“god!” you jump, looking behind you and putting a hand over your chest to steady your rapid heartbeat, “you really are a ghost, aren’t you?” a chuckle falls from your lips after the startle, travelling the air like a lullaby, and he ignores the flutter in his chest that happens whenever you laugh.

“sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” you shrug and turn back to your initial position, sitting on the steps and watching the crunchy tree leaves dancing in the breeze. he follows your gaze to the front lawn, bringing a cigarette from the pack to his lips, debating if he should truly smoke with you in there. you never complained, but he’s caught you frowning at the thin cardboard a few times around the house, so he decides not to light it.

“can i ask you something?” you blurt out, lifting your chin to face him, eyes searching for his, and his head dips, irises focusing on yours. one brow raises at your sudden curiosity and he nods, back propped against the column, waiting, “why Ghost?”

his jaw tenses, gaze shifting from you to the carton in his hands. the ever-dreaded question. “dunno. just a nickname.” lie. he couldn’t tell you how everything was taken from him and he faked his death years ago; how he truly became the ghost of man. you don’t deserve to be burdened with that knowledge, so it is just a nickname. 

he looks back to you, gauging if you bought his deflection or not. you’re still focused on him, vision flicking at every crease of his expression, waiting for any falter, but it doesn’t come. “you can call me Simon.”

the thin line of your lips breaks into a smile, cheeks rising and making his heart skip a beat. so much for easy detachment, “okay, Simon.”

the way i still have at least ten parts of this story in my outline but i'm so unmotivated to write it :(

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #ghost cod #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #f!reader #fem!reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost imagine #ghost fanfiction #bodyguard!ghost #bodyguard!simon #actress!reader #bodyguard au #cod mw #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #gold rush #bodyguard!ghost ☾ #nyx writes ☾ #midnightarcheress

[writeforfandoms]

The Name of the Wind 4

Find the series masterlist

Here we finally are continuing with this story! I'm trying to match up the timing on everything between these thee stories in the dragon riders 'verse. Yes, three. Our two special guests in this chapter will be leaving to their own story.

It'll be fun, I swear.

Warnings: Swearing, idiot in love, clueless reader, scheming riders, seriously the whole garrison is invested by now.

Word count: 1.8k

Dinner seemed nothing special, in the way that you'd become accustomed to meals here. There was the usual assortment of foods at every table, riders and staff settling down to eat. 

Alejandro was at the table you'd unofficially labeled his - not in the center of the room quite, but still easy to get to. Some of the usual people were there already - Rodolfo and Marin both nodded to you. 

The two new people were there as well, seated side by side across from Alejandro.

“Our guests for tonight,” Alejandro told you, motioning you to sit next to him. “Alex and Frank.” 

You greeted them both, settling next to Alejandro. They'd both cleaned up since you saw them earlier, though Frank hadn't bothered to shave. You'd never seen them before, and you were curious as to how they got here, and how long they'd be here. 

“You must be new here.” Frank eyed you, openly appraising. 

“Yes,” you admitted, a little surprised. 

“New rider?”

“Not exactly,” you hedged, on the border of being uncomfortable, and not sure why. 

“She is a leather worker,” Alejandro answered smoothly, one knee pressing into yours under the table, his elbow gently jostling your arm. “Quite skilled, as well.” 

You warmed under both the praise and the touches, shoulders relaxing even as you leaned ever so slightly into his space. 

Frank held your gaze for a moment before he nodded. “Then we'll be seeing you around again.” 

“Are you here often?” You took a tray from Alejandro, serving yourself food even as you glanced at the two men. 

Alex shrugged, a secretive half-smile twitching his lips. “We come through every so often.”

You looked between the two, seeing clearly that this was some kind of joke. But Alejandro nudged your knee again under the table, and you didn't ask. 

The conversation moved on from there, Rodolfo chiming in with daily reports. Another rider came over to talk to Alejandro for a few minutes, mostly ignoring Alex and Frank. They seemed content to be ignored, talking quietly to each other. 

You squashed your curiosity back down and ate your dinner quietly. 

Frank and Alex stood to leave in tandem, and Alejandro nodded to them. 

“Who were they?” You asked very quietly once they'd left. 

Alejandro hummed for a moment, arms crossed loosely over his chest. “You will see them from time to time,” he said slowly. “But you cannot ask what they do, or where they go. It is confidential.” 

“Okay.” You could do that. No problem. 

Well. Okay. You'd have to remind yourself not to ask, but you'd manage. 

He looked down at you, amused. “You won't see them so often it will be a problem,” he assured you. “Don't fret.” 

You chuckled. “Sure,” you agreed easily. “If you say so.” 

Alejandro shook his head but smiled, getting to his feet. “I will see you tomorrow.”

“Good night.” You watched him and Rodolfo walk out together, shoulders nearly pressed together. 

The view was quite nice, after all. 

Shaking your head at yourself, you cleared your place at the table and made your way back to your room. You had a little time before bed. Plenty of time to stuff your emotions back down. 

You were still trying not to find Alejandro attractive… but it wasn't easy. He made it very difficult, in fact. Especially when he sought you out at meal times, and took you on a flight, and promised he wouldn't let harm come to you… 

Really, how were you expected to not find him attractive? 

You squished your face in your pillow to squeal, just a little bit. 

The problem over the next few weeks wasn't work. It wasn't the dragons, as they had all learned that you were to be treated gently.

No. The problem was Alejandro. 

He ate most meals with you. He took you on two more flights. He made a point of seeing you at least once each day. 

He was distracting, but in the most pleasant way. Intriguing and courteous and funny. 

He was a major problem. 

You looked for him, almost automatically, every time you went to eat, or when you were in the dragons’ nesting area. Any time you heard his voice, you paused what you were doing to look. 

Honestly, it was a bit ridiculous. You were embarrassed at yourself. 

But you still looked. 

One night after dinner, Alejandro asked if you'd take a walk with him. You agreed, heart fluttering. 

“I will be gone a few days,” he said as the two of you strolled down empty hallways. “I need to go to the capital.” 

“Oh.” You couldn't help the way your heart sank with disappointment. 

“Rodolfo will be in charge while I'm gone,” he said, looking at you and away again. “It will only be a few days.” 

“I hope you have fun?” It came out for too much of a question, and you grimaced at yourself. 

He snorted. “I will not, but thank you. I dislike going, but I must sometimes.” 

“Why do you dislike it?”

He shrugged. “Politics,” he answered dryly. “There is an overabundance of people who feel far too self-important.”

You laughed, unable to hold it in. “I'm sorry,” you managed, still giggling. “But the look on your face.” 

He huffed, smiling. “It is never a hardship to make you laugh,” he murmured. “Is there anything you want from the capital?”

You blinked at him, taken completely by surprise. “I don't know.” 

He eyed you for a moment before he nodded, just once. “I will find you something, then.” 

You almost protested, except he turned to face you fully, two fingers under your chin tipping your face towards him. Your eyes went wide. 

“I will think of you,” he promised, low and quiet. “I need to go, because I need to wake early. I will see you in a few days.” He leaned in, and for a wild moment you thought he'd kiss you. Your heart leapt and then pounded, lips parting ever so slightly. 

But his lips landed on your cheek, soft and chaste. Your eyelids fluttered, a soft breath escaping you. 

The two of you stood perfectly still for one moment. Then Alejandro stepped back, his fingers falling from your skin. 

You watched him go, hand rising to touch the spot he'd just kissed. 

You hadn't imagined that. He had really kissed your cheek. 

Oh, you were way past trouble now. Now you were in deep. 

You meandered back to your room, completely distracted and oblivious to the world around you, replaying those precious moments over and over again to make sure you remembered them. 

You didn't sleep well, half-remembered dreams of flying then falling interrupting you through the night. 

You were surprised when Marin sat with you at breakfast. She asked about your day, and seemed genuinely interested. Which was… weird, but okay. 

But the weirdness didn't stop there. 

Various riders popped in to your workshop throughout the day. Some just asked how you were doing, while some asked about bringing you things for repairs. One even brought you a canteen of water, saying she'd noticed yours was empty. 

You were deeply, deeply confused. 

But you didn't actually object. 

Rodolfo gently herded you to the normal table at dinner, but he didn't try to make you talk. Just made sure you had food. 

Alejandro left for a few days and the whole garrison went extremely weird. 

Maybe they just needed some sleep. Or something. Maybe you needed sleep. 

Except the next day passed in much the same manner. You hadn't had so much conversation… basically ever. And with so many people! Even one of the kitchen staff found you to ask if you had enough scrap leather to make a holder for a knife. 

Which, of course, you did. Not that you'd tell her, the poor woman seemed easily flustered to begin with, but you weren't using scraps for this. 

You were also debating between telling Alejandro the entire garrison went nuts while he was gone, or never mentioning any of this again. 

You skipped breakfast the next day, sneaking some bread from the kitchen to tide you over until lunch. This, apparently, was a mistake, as what felt like half the garrison showed up at your workshop before lunch. Not all at once, thankfully, mostly alone with a few pairs or small groups showing up.

But still. Highly annoying while you were trying to work. 

You were gearing up around lunch time to yell at the group of three hovering outside your door when a dragon trumpeted outside. All three riders perked up, and the youngest (and boldest) of them darted inside to grab you. You barely had time to yelp before the three were half-dragging you off, your feet barely keeping up. 

Bright sunlight blinded you for a couple moments as they dragged you clear outside. But you felt the ground-shaking thump of a dragon landing. 

You didn't even have time to ask before the three abandoned you. You nearly stumbled, but managed not to. Huffing, you shaded your eyes to look. 

Your heart fluttered in your chest. 

Caba stopped just in front of you, rumbling a friendly greeting to you, head lowering to breathe hot air on top of your head. You couldn't help but laugh a little, reaching up to pat his snout. 

“You're here.” Alejandro sounded surprised but rallied quickly, throwing one leg over Caba's back and sliding down the big dragon's side. He landed easily, making you the teensiest bit jealous - you still nearly faceplanted every time. 

“I am,” you agreed, a little perplexed but mostly just happy to see him. “How was your trip?”

He waved a hand, dismissing the question. “Uneventful. Not worth it, as usual.” He paused a moment before he smiled. “But I did find this.” 

He produced a flower from nowhere, petals marbled pink and white. 

“Oh, it's beautiful.” You smiled, leaning closer to see if the flower had any fragrance. It did, and it smelled wonderful too. 

“It's for you.” Alejandro took one of your hands, curling your fingers delicately around the stem.

Your eyes blew wide and you jerked your gaze from the flower to him. He just smiled at you, warm and soft and so pleased. 

Excited not-exactly-whispering behind you made both of you turn to look. Alejandro's smile dropped and he huffed softly. 

“Excuse me, I have some riders to speak with,” he growled, much less happy now. But he paused and cupped your cheek, leaning in close to whisper, “I'll see you later.” And then he strode off, like a man on a warpath.

You dropped your gaze back to your flower and hid your smile behind it, inexplicably giddy.

#the name of the wind #dragon riders au #alejandro vargas x reader #alejandro vargas x you #f!reader

[nebbyy]

Hi! I'm not sure if you are currently taking requests, so feel free to ignore mine if you aren't! If you are taking them, however, would you please write something for King Baldwin IV overhearing reader sing and falling further in love with her because of her soft and sweet voice? Upon realizing that he's there, she becomes extremely flustered and apologizes for disrupting his peace and quiet. Thank you!

King Baldwin IV x reader - Sweetest of melodies

A/N: omg it’s been so long since I’ve received a request! I can’t lie, Baldwin is my supreme comfort character, I think I’ll never stop writing fro him because it gives me sooo much joy😩😩😩 I personally like to think of this piece as taking place a few months after Baldwin’s and reader’s wedding, so it could be considered a sequel for my first fic ever. Also, the song mentioned in this piece is a real song from the 12th century called "Can vei la lauzeta" (in English,"When I see the lark") by Bernart de Ventadorn, and the painting is "Lovers in a garden" by Charles Edward Perugini!!

Oh btw!! I’m working on a long ass series about him, based off of a prompt by @phantomsghoulette  which I absolutely LOVED. Sooo all the KoH fans stay tuned for future updates🤭

Warning: nothing really, just pure fluff. Maybe you could say that religious innuendos could be something triggering for some people but I don’t know. There might be ONE, SLIGHTLY spicy mention but only if you squint really really hard. Also, keep in mind that the historical accuracy in my fics is rather relative, I try to add some details here and there but I don’t have the knowledge (nor the skills) to write a piece 100% accurate to the real history. Also, reader’s gender is female and uses she/her pronouns!!

Word count: 2918

Someone would say Baldwin's patience could already be put to test by only his illness, which she ruthlessly does not grant him a moment's respite, the eternal enemy of his body and his spirit. But no, to this perpetual torment of his had to be added the perilous duties of a king. And it was certainly not governing his people and lands that sucked what little energy he had left; this duty of his, given by his father and willed by divine design, he had long since embraced.

It was the nobles, the leeches who had drained him of his lifeblood lately. It was their endless demands, the insidious words that hissed behind his back, the languid bows and sleazy gifts designed only to gain some favor from him. Looking around him, he seemed to see only vices and sinners, power-hungry beasts just waiting for his moment of weakness so they could feed on what Baldwin had under his power.

In fact, not without reason in the past the young monarch had attempted to abdicate the throne and leave it in the hands of one of his sisters, rid himself of this burden and devote the rest of his short life taking care of his declining health and to nurture his mind away from so much corruption. At times he dreamed of retiring to France, experiencing for the first time that cold climate and verdant landscape of which his preceptors and advisors told him so much.

In fact, not without reason in the past the young monarch had attempted to abdicate the throne and leave it in the hands of one of his sisters, rid himself of this burden and devote the rest of his short life taking care of his declining health and to nurture his mind away from so much corruption. At times he dreamed of retiring to France, to experience for the first time that cold climate and verdant landscape of which his preceptors and advisors told him so much.

And he dreamed of taking you with him, imagined how sweet his life would be if his only concerns were taking care of his health and you, faithful wife, sole blessing in his life battered by such burdens. How he would wish that his days would revolve around you, that his first thought in the morning would be riding by your side through the flourishing meadows, and his last thought in the evening would be caressing your face as you lie slumbering in his arms.

It would have been a blissful fate his, if only Sybilla's husband had not died at the very moment when he would have needed him most. If only his mother had not convinced him that Guido de Lusignan was a good fit for his sister and had continued to seek a new consort for her, perhaps that fate would not have been snatched from him so early. Too late to repent now, for Baldwin would have preferred to die agonizingly on his throne rather than leave power in the hands of that bumptious and arrogant lord, who was noble only in title.

And so he found himself in this sort of hellish limbo, forced into a position that should never be required of a man in his condition, but prevented by his morality from abandoning his reign, impelled by faith in God's greater plan, that his suffering should not be in vain.

And his faith always seemed to strengthen when he had a way to escape the stifling air that characterized the throne room, always packed with knights and crusaders and nobles, when he had a way to retreat to the palace gardens, one of the few verdant places in all of Jerusalem.

With slow, swaying steps, Baldwin strolled slowly among the local palm trees and flower beds from the faraway lands, those where men speak Italian and the more distant ones, those from which his fathers came. Exotic fruits mingled with those more congenial to the French, who out of nostalgia for their lands and fields did what they could to bring the seeds of these plants with them to overseas.

His mind seemed to go out, shifting his attention from the constant buzz of court demands and duties to the chirping of birds perched on the roof, to the eviction of the soft branches that shielded him from the scorching sun. He enjoyed the refreshing air that reigned in that small oasis of greens, which was able to infiltrate the fabric of his white robes, crossing the bandages that covered much of his body and finally reaching his skin, numbed by leprosy. 

To tell the truth, of that refreshing sensation little reached his damaged nerves, if not for those few points that had been spared by the merciless disease, from which departed that unusual shiver that caused him a delicate smile of relief, enjoying the refreshing breeze. Then he closed his eyes and breathed in, discovering with satisfied surprise that that light gust was also a harbinger of an intoxicating perfume, a mixture of exotic and familiar.

How funny to think of the concept of "exotic", for an Angevin born and raised in the unknown lands of the east. For him it was exotic French fruit, exotic were the green plains and heavy clothing that brought his allies from the northwest, and equally alien to the snowy mountains and forest beasts that he saw drawn in detail in his childhood books. It was these changes of perspective that stimulated his mind in a myriad of thoughts and reflections, but in a pleasurable way for him, not as exhausting as his daily duties.

His reflections on exotic and local made his mind travel, wandering until he came to a subject very close to him: Muslims and Jews, reflecting well on the landscape in front of him, recognized that he could share with them the same concepts of what is foreign and what they can claim the original belonging. And he could not but reflect on how it must have been for the first inhabitants of Jerusalem to observe the Franks who came as conquerors, and filled their gardens with such foreign plants as those pale warriors who had taken possession of their dwelling... But after all, the French soldiers who were emissaries of God’s will needed something familiar to stabilize them as they fought to reclaim the Promised Land, ut Deus voluit.

But all his brooding over these matters of conquest and submission ended up in the background in his mind, when a colorful scarlet sphere caught his attention. An exquisitely red apple seemed to tempt him from a branch just above his head, beckoning him to be picked and savored by the king, that he might lose himself in the juicy sweetness of that fruit with origins so far removed from the Holy Land. But the king's modesty prevented him from yielding to that temptation, wanting to avoid exposing the advanced state of deterioration in which his mouth was.

And in fact if that temptation had been alive it would have pale in front of something much more captivating, a sound that echoed in the most melodious distance of the song of any nightingale. Baldwin was surprised to think that he had not realized before the melody that inibriated the atmosphere around him, so taken by the tribulations of his mind that he almost missed such an intoxicating song. He did not know what he felt once he arrived in Heaven, if he had ever arrived in spite of the unjust fate in Hell that the evil Saracens wished him. He didn’t know it, but if one ever had to imagine what Heaven sounded like, that song would come to mind.

When I see the lark beating 

Its wings in joy against the rays of the sun 

That it forgets itself and lets itself fall 

Because of the sweetness that comes to its heart

She sang in Occitan, the beautiful one in the distance. The voice of his people, of his lineage, that few in the palace can pronounce after so many years of distance from their homeland in Provence. Paying more attention to the echoing song, he would not even have had to approach it to give a face to that melodic voice: he knew how to recognize his wife’s voice.

Yet it was a new context in which he saw you, new facets of you that he had not yet had a chance to observe. Your voice, sweet as honey, venerable like all your other traits, he had never heard it except in speech, when you were proclaiming orders before your subjects with the authority fit for a queen, or when you laughed at the poems and performances of the court singers, or when you whispered in Baldwin’s ears sweet words, while you lay with bodies merged between the soft silk sheets. Always spoken, but never sung.

Alas! Such great envy then overwhelms me 

Of all those whom I see rejoicing,

But though he didn’t need to approach you to recognize you, the desire to see your face exceeded any of his other needs. As if mesmerized by the sound of a siren, Baldwin was advancing towards you, with steps so slow that it seemed a hunter about to catch a deer in the woods. He wanted nothing more than to hear you sing again, that you continue to bless him with that angelic melody. What worse sin would there be than to interrupt your song, more sacred than a prayer?

His stomach filled with butterflies and turned upside down like the beasts' jugglers, his breath seemed to stop in his throat, depriving him of the breath he no longer needed, as long as he could hear you sing a moment more. And her cheeks warmed, when finally she saw you among the white lilies, more beautiful than divine salvation.

I wonder that my heart, at that moment, 

Does not melt from desire.

Baldwin wondered if you sang with him in mind, if those words of love reflected your own emotional turmoil. 

Oh, if only it were so, and your singing equalled his own words inscribed in the sonnets and poems he composed in your honor, which he himself commissioned from your favorite singers to perform at banquets, only to steal an embarrassed smile and to see the blush of your cheeks, along with the glint in your eyes.

Whether it was or not, the outcome remained the same since he was at that moment in your proximity, in the same state mixed with adoration, love and wonder at the bold gesture. But if only he had confirmation from your words...

Alas! How much I thought I knew 

About love, and how little I know, 

Because I cannot keep myself from loving 

The one from whom I will gain nothing.

"My angel, your voice sounds like heaven but your words are false." Baldwin practically saw you blow up from your session, completely taken aback by his sudden appearance, unaware that your husband has been acting as a secret public all this time. Your initial surprise quickly turns into a laugh to mask your embarrassment for being caught in a moment like this, when you thought you were alone to be able to run the streets of music with your voice.

"I beg your pardon, I thought I was alone in the gardens," your eyes met his own only for a moment, before you turned your face to try and hide the blush of your face, "it was just a silly song I heard singing to the Provençal knights. I hope I did not disrupt your walk, my love..”

He laughed softly, trying to hide his amusement from having caught you off guard. He approached you more quickly than when he did just a few moments before, but with the same phlegm that managed to inspire a feeling of safeness in you. Sitting by your side on the bare rock, he raised his bandaged hand to gently cup your face and make you turn your eyes towards him. It was only then, when you had no choice but to look at Baldwin in the face that you noticed how his eyes, the only part of his face exposed to the outside world, formed two half-moons, and you came to find that it was because of how widely he was smiling, as you lowered the veil from his face. 

He was making fun of you, you realized. With that swagger in his manner, you understood that his amusement came from your embarrassment at that silly misunderstanding. Laughing softly, he gently shook his head before bringing both hands to your face, holding it as if it were the most sacred of relics. "As much as I would love to hear you sing of your affection for me, just to hear your voice echoing in the air is the sweetest of gifts. How could you deprive me of this blessing thus far, my dear?"

You could do nothing but giggle at his sweet words, bringing your hands to his wrists to feel him closer to you. "You flatter me, my king. My voice boasts nothing more than those sweet melodies that the singers in the palace sing. Mine is only a dabble."

His gaze softened, his playful spirit addicted to your presence. He took the floor again, in a tone as soft as cotton, "At least this once, my queen, allow me to disagree with your words. My life may be short and my reality small, but never have I heard such an angelic voice, singing such sweet melodies. And God may not yet have granted me the ability to predict the future, but in my heart I know well that never will any singer be able to hold a candle to your beautiful voice, never will any song be able to express the same feeling of ecstasy.

"You, my angel, have managed to make a simple ballad an absolute work of art through your voice. I think I should take you with me into battle next time, for with your mere voice you could addict Saladin and his entire army.

"And seeing you here, angelic and perfect like the lilies that surround you, singing so softly that it would make any bird jealous, that I realize that whatever toil, whatever challenges God has stored up for me, and all those that still await me in my life, are worth it, if at the end of each of them there is you, voice of an angel, to hold a place for me in your arms of heaven." 

You were sure you were on the verge of crying a flood of tears, the result of pure emotion at his sweet words. It was not new to you that Baldwin worshipped you as much as the God to whom his kingdom was consecrated, from the first moment he got to hear your voice and admire your face, and you knew at once that he had become yours, body and soul. But it was new to you to see him like that, completely entranced by your simple being-it was something new. A wonderful newness that made you feel like the most desired of women on this earth.

Taken by a rush of boldness, you practically jumped into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck; you ended up on top of him, with his hands around your hips. You both laughed, like two little boys frolicking in the gardens. And you left a kiss on his left cheek, then on the bridge of his nose. A kiss again on his forehead, and then down on the side of his lips. When you were about to give him another kiss, just where he most yearned for your lips, against his, you stopped a few inches away, with a wide smile, before speaking again, "If so little is enough to make your happiness, then I will sing to you every day, whenever you ask. Let me be your nightingale, your morning song and your lullaby all at once!"

"I couldn't wish for anything else, my dear. Now, however, I beg you, sing one more melody for me, before my duties drag me back to the palace, and I shall consider myself a blessed man."

"With great pleasure, my love." Your voice was now little more than a whisper. With a languid movement, Baldwin moved his body to rest his head on your lap, and you eagerly greeted him. After slightly moving the hood that veiled his head, so that you could play with his golden locks, you began to sing a new melody, one that this time spoke of reciprocated love, of the joy of being able to hold your loved one in your arms. But the words you sang barely reached Baldwin before his sky-colored eyes closed softly, his mind giving him at least a moment's despite from his perilous life. You continued to sing, caressing his face, which from day to day appeared more and more mutilated by his disease, singing the sweetest of melodies so as to prolong this idyll in which you and your husband found yourselves in. 

For with you Baldwin had a way of putting the crown aside, and being nothing more than a foolish young man in love, whose only duty was to love you, to love you with all the love that an angel like you deserved.

@sweetworkoffiction hope you like it <3

#fluff #writers on tumblr #f!reader #kingdom of heaven #king baldwin iv #king baldwin x reader #king baldwin x you #koh #medieval fiction #historical fiction #writing requests #requests open #anon ask #anon request

[solomon-wife0w0]

Run little girl||Replaced mc au x taylor!mc||

Summary:

mc returns back to the human realm after the demons' brothers, royals, angels, and Solomon decided to make the new exchanged student take mc place as the official exchanged student.

after almost a year past, Mc gets summoned back to devildom since the exchanged student was struggling to keep her grades up. but when the brothers, royals, angels, and Solomon were shocked when they meet mc again. after a few months past they didn't except Mc to change into an entire new person, as she looked tired as had bags under her eyes and she was more serious than before but what surprised them was the hatred in her brown eyes.

#Spotify #school bus graveyard #obey me #replaced mc au #sbg #school bus graveyard x reader #sbg x reader #taylor!reader #f!reader #obey me x f!reader #school bus graveyard x f!reader #sbg x f!reader

[schrodingerscougar]

Summary: roommate!Simon is possessive.

Simon is practical. Why would he have an apartment of his own when he’s away so much? It would be better to rent a room, have someone who collects his mail and keeps the place clean while he’s gone. It doesn’t even bother him that his roommate is a woman in her twenties because they barely meet anyway. But when Johnny finds out, he goes feral and can’t stop bugging him about it. 

“She’s cute,” he notes after his superior showed him your Instagram profile. “And you say you haven’t made a move on her? What a shame. If you won’t do it, I will. Could use a pretty little cock sleeve like her.”

He has no idea why, but Simon gets mad at the Scotsman for calling you that. If he wasn’t so good at controlling himself, he would have punched him in the face without much consideration. You’re a nice girl; smart, kind, beautiful, and understanding. You don’t get mad at him if he arrives home in the middle of the night and wakes you up by accidentally kicking something loudly in the dark. You don’t get mad if he forgets to help out around the apartment with the chores when he’s home. You don’t get mad if he forgets something that was on the shopping list. 

Letting out a sigh, he leans against the wall and puts his phone back into his pocket. “She wouldn’t let you close enough for that,” he finally tells Soap. 

But he doesn’t seem offended, in fact, he takes it as a challenge. “Just introduce me to her. Let’s see if I can get into her pants.”

“Not gonna happen, Johnny.”

And just like that, you remain his well-guarded secret. You remain his, and only his.

(part 2)

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost #john mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap #modern warfare #mw3 #mw2 #call of duty #afab reader #f!reader

[planetsano]

warnings: hybrid talk, master/pet, heats, knot mention.

gojo satoru would be the best caregiver looking after his hybrid girl. you’re so precious and sweet to him, you can barely string together a coherent sentence but satoru’s long since come to understand what you’re trying to convey. he thinks it’s so cute when you get frustrated that your words aren’t matching with the big emotions you’re feeling in your chest and it makes your bottom lip quiver and tears well in your eyes. but he understands— he makes you feel seen, heard, understood and loved.

if you’re a little lamb hybrid, you’re so gentle with kind demeanor, but you’re also timid or shy. gojo tries to get you out of your comfort zone by making you ask the cashier for your own ketchup and extra napkins.

if you’re a little bunny hybrid, you’re curious, friendly, and a bit mischievous at times. he can’t get enough of touching on your little cotton tail and soft, floppy ears. the way you eat your fruits is SO fucking cute because you space out while you nibble.

if you’re a little puppy hybrid, you’re curiosity gets you into a bit of trouble because you get into things you’re not supposed to. your demeanor is bubbly, energetic, and eager to please. you love to play fight and go outdoors.

but that’s neither here or there, really. satoru knows it’s wrong.. perverse to stick his cock in you even if you’re in heat. your tight little cunt is visibly dripping, pulsating for something to fill it right up like a fucking plug. he’s your master, right? you don’t understand why he’s hesitating so much but in your simple little mind, you don’t think about the nuisances that come with having sex in humans. it’s already viewed as taboo to own a hybrid in today’s society. he’d just be fitting out the stereotype.

gojo isn’t a pervert.

but how can he say no when you’re pawing at his crotch, sniffing his scent with a shaky whine in your throat? you’re just a precious and you’re begging for it— but he soon realizes you’re starting to beg for a knot he just doesn’t have. it disappoints him a tad bit that he can’t satisfy you in a truly primal way. so he fucks you until you’ve passed out from exhaustion and he’s shooting blanks. too much pleasure turns into pain after a while.

so he tells you he’s gonna get you some yucky pills that are supposed to “help” by suppressing your heats monthly.

but satoru can’t help but to think about the memory of how sloppy, hot and wet your cunt felt around him— he’s never had a cunt so good before. maybe he’d opt in for a more.. “natural” way of getting you through your heats..

#┊ ➶ ｡˚ ° bria writes! #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo smut #jujustsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jjk gojo #jjk x reader #female reader #f!reader

[ghouljams]

If I may,

For your regency AU, does Gaz get to meet and or hold bug before they get married? When does he learn that he has a baby? Does Birdie recognize him? ((What's her moms reaction when they learn that bugs his kid))

Please and thank you! I have so many questions!

Kyle treats you like he's known you for years, he talks about you like he knows everything about you and as of yet you've had no reason to stop him. It's hard to say you recognize him or don't, you spent so much of your time with him with your face buried against his neck, with his face obscured by your cunt, or with your eyes shut tight against the pleasure he sent coursing through you. The only real remnant of the man that took your virginity nearly two years ago is your child, and it's hard to say you recognize a baby's face in Kyle's.

But he gathers you in his arms and kisses you, and it feels like something you've forgotten. His warmth beckons you home, itches at a memory that's had you with your hand between your legs more nights than you care to admit. He's determined to marry you, and though you like him more than any of the other suitors that have tried to claim the same prize you value your freedom far more. You've been wracking your brain for reasons to reject his proposal and he's countered each and every one. You're running out of options. You decide to take a page out of your friend's book; if you can't convince a man with your words, you'll do it with your actions.

"I have a child." You tell Sergeant Garrick over tea. You mother nearly spits. Sergeant Garrick only pauses, his cup raised, his lips just grazing the edge of the china. He lowers the cup back to its saucer and takes a deep steadying breath.

"What she means-" your mother starts, already trying to spin your sin to something less wonderful than it is. She's cut off quickly.

"May I meet them?" Sergeant Garrick asks, his hands folded neatly in his lap. Your mother's neck nearly breaks with how quickly she turns to look at him. You blink in surprise. He raises a brow, holds your gaze, calls your bluff. "Unless they're not here."

You settle your cup down, watch the soft sway of tea against the floral pattern. You can feel your mother staring at you, daring you to make another move that will doom you to spinster-hood. "Of course," You smile, brushing your gloved hands against the front of your dress as you stand. Sergeant Garrick stands as well, and offers his hand to guide you around the table as your mother balks. He holds your fingers tight as you lead him to meet your baby.

Despite your mother's insistence, the town's supposed value on reputation, and whatever other forces may be, you love your baby. You'd wager they're the sweetest thing that's ever graced the earth. A little angel from heaven, all smiles and coos. You push the nursery door open and hold your finger to your lips to keep the good sergeant quiet. He looks as serious as death following after you, his brows drawn together as you lift your sleeping infant from their crib.

You kiss their sweet little head, and sweep the little curls from their forehead so Kyle can get a better look at their face. He steps closer, his hand sliding around your waist to rest against your back. The movement surprises you, he must sense as much the way his thumb rub soothingly against your skirt. He raises his other hand, brushes his fingers over the baby's cheek, as gentle as a spring breeze. Something softens in his expression, and he pulls his hand from your back to reach for the baby.

"May I?" He asks, his voice low. There's no insistence to it, no malice, only a soft imploring tone that makes you shift your grip so he can take them from you. Your baby settles easily in Kyle's arms, and he's quick to tuck their swaddle more tightly around them. "Beautiful," He whispers.

You suck in a breath, unaware you'd been holding it, and reach to take them back. Something nervous and fluttery in your stomach urging you to get your baby back where you know they're safe. Kyle catches your hand and tugs you sharply, catching you against his chest. You push against him and his grip tightens around your shoulders.

"Sergeant-"

"I should have married you when I had the chance," Kyle tells you, leaving no room for discussion in his tone, "I'm not going to make that mistake again."

#cod x reader #x reader #x oc #cod x oc #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #kyle ga #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz modern warfare #gaz cod #gaz call of duty #gaz x reader #regency au #oc: birdie #I had to go back through my tags and find Bug's name #it's Jamie :) which I think is very cute and could be short for anything #oc: bug #f!reader

[cordeliawhohung]

whispering to pornstar!gaz that i want him to breed me and have his babies mid shoot just to see what happens

mans would be so mad, because that really gets him going. like i'm talking, you whisper that in his ears and he's pumping two more times before he's filling you with cum. can't even think of a response. and you laugh and giggle like a little menace as he hides his face in your neck while everyone on set is just like "???"

chastises you. tells you that you can't say things like that to him on set. complains how you're gonna be the fucking death of him. but maybe he wouldn't mind that either, lmao.

#core responds #pornstar!gaz #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #f!reader

[bakubunny]

currently thinking abt satoru who’s into size humiliation and needs to be bound and cucked once in a while. it doesn’t matter if he’s small, average, or simply big but smaller than the other guy in the room. your boyfriend throbs when you tell him he can’t satisfy you, can’t fuck you as good as other men can because of his dick. he cries the prettiest tears when you make him rut into a pillow while you use a toy on yourself because he’s not big enough to fuck you. and he looks adorable when he watches you get fucked so hard and good you’re drooling, his dick drooling pre onto his stomach as much as you’re making a puddle in the sheets.

“suguru, fuck - ahh! so b-big, y’so fuckin’ big, holy shit, please don’t stop,” you moan.

your babbling has satoru whining and bucking his hips next to you, pulling on the restraints of his wrists above his head. “please, can i try? need you so bad, baby, pleeasee.”

suguru grips you by the hair and pulls up your fucked out face for satoru to see. “you really think you can give her what she needs, satoru? think that pathetic dick of yours is good enough for a pussy like this?”

satoru’s cerulean eyes turn glossy, cheeks red. “yes, been so so good, please, i-”

“shut the fuck up,” suguru says. he leans down into your ear, his pace hardly faltering. “tell him what you said earlier, princess.”

“p-pussy is for big boyyyss,” you slur, all the taunt in your words gone under the weight of suguru’s long, fat cock.

“that’s right. pussy is for big boys, not whiny brats with baby dicks,” he replies.

suguru lets your head fall back into the sheets. he grips your hip tighter and somehow plunges into your sopping cunt harder from behind, skin clapping so loud and fast it’s ringing in your ears. you cry out his name and your eyes roll.

“give satoru your hand, angel,” suguru says.

you whine, bones like jelly underneath him.

he grins. “i know, s’hard to move when i fuck you like this, huh? c’mon, you can do it.”

with the strength you have left, you reach your hand over and wrap it around satoru’s aching, leaky cock. you give a few weak strokes.

“thank you, fuck, thank you.”

“that’s a good girl…. just relax, okay? satoru knows what to do,” suguru coos.

satoru’s hips push into your hand as he whines. he sets a sloppy pace, trying so hard to fuck your hand in time with suguru’s punishing thrust into your cunt.

“yeah, that’s it. try to fuck her hand half as good as i’m fucking your girl. maybe you can fuck her pussy next if you don’t cum all over yourself.”

that, unfortunately for satoru, was all it took for him to spill ropes of white, hot seed over your fingers and up his torso with a groan.

suguru huffed a small laugh. “fucking pathetic.”

gremlins: @arlerts-angel @dcsiremc @bookcluberror @zazter-den @neon-gothicc @breadandbutter33 @i-literally-cant-with-this @rinalouu @stvrfir3 @r4td0lll @emmab3mma @aria-chikage @liliththeunqualifiedsimp @yazt09 @doumadono @dreamcastgirl99 @maddietries @jazzafayesworld @karebear5118 @unofficialmuilover @cherriluvs35 @erensslut @ruu-https @hana-yuri @keiva1000 @katsul0vr @trickster-kat @flamgosstuff @mistressreaper @angelltheninth @anonymously-ominous @amberexe2 @hisconsistency @223princess @honeeslust @naughtygobbo @acenanxious @blumoonwisteria @chaos-gem @levizonlywife @kxtsxkii @katsuslover @nuttyunknowndetective @yooxverse @jjamiee21 @levis-fav-brat @heartofjasmina

#i’ve rly been on a humiliation kick lately #this was supposed to be dom/switch reader but i failed lmfao #x reader #f!reader #jjk #jjk smut #stsg x reader #satosugu x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #gojo satoru #geto suguru #jjk x reader #gojo smut #geto smut #bakubunny #getou suguru #satosugu #satosugu smut #stsg #stsg smut

[fairyvtale]

I’ve been obsessed w the movie since seeing it! Could you write something for ryan gosling Ken! where reader (a Barbie lol) compliments him on something and he then start’s following her around like a puppy and she invites him over for a sleepover (Barbie’s never miss girls night but she’ll miss it for him) just fluff maybe some cuddles with Ken having his hair played w and some kisses I just need to give him some love thank you <3

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ you are Kenough

ryan gosling! ken x f! reader

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

IT was a pretty normal day in the barbieland. you were chilling at the beach with your best friend, — allan. it isn’t surprising that you spend almost every second with him; you didn’t expect that it was going to change anytime soon. right now, you and allan were "drinking" your colorful drinks with paper umbrellas as decorations. it was a beautiful day (to be honest, every day in barbieland was just perfect).

“hi barbie!” you heard ken calling your name as you just smiled at him and waved.

“hi ken!” you have always liked Ken; he was hilarious, and sometimes he could be really sweet. “i really like your outfit today, ken, it suits you.” you smiled nicely, being honest with him.

“thank you, barbie, you also look pretty” he said, and you only smiled shyly at his compliment. allan sent you a surprised look because he didn’t know that you would like Ken. maybe it was fear that he would lose you (of course it wasn’t true). but at the same time, you knew that he was supporting.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

barbie doesn’t knew that it was only the beginning.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

AFTER this situation, Ken started to be your shadow; he was in every place you were. he always wanted to make you happy with compliments and sweet gestures. other barbies also found it sweet because he was just the perfect ken for you.

today was girls night at the stereotypical barbie’s dream house. you loved them, and you always have the best time with all barbies. but today you wanted to spend time alone with ken, you loved sleepovers with allan, so why don't you do it with ken instead? you find Ken standing on the beach doing nothing, so you come to him and poke his arm to get his attention.

“hi barbie! how are you?” he asked as you smiled at him.

“i’m doing fine, thank you. i was wondering if you want to have a sleepover with me today?” you asked him, wishing that he would say ‘yes’.

“as a girlfriend and boyfriend?” he crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. you nodded excitedly, and he instantly agreed.

“what will we do as a boyfriend and girlfriend?” ken asked you as you two walked to your house.

“we can hold hands, we can kiss our cheeks, and we can cuddle,” you answered as he smiled at you sweetly, grabbed your hand, and kissed your cheek as you smiled flatter.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

YOU two were at your house, sitting on your bed under the pink fluffy blanket. you knew that you skipped the girls' night, but you were happy to lay and cuddle with ken, and girls night was every night, so you could spend this one time doing something else.

you closed your eyes and placed your head on ken’s torso.

“i love to be your girlfriend, ken” you admitted with a shy smile.

“and i love to be your boyfriend, barbie” he said happily.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

it was so nice to write it, cause it’s just a fluff and ryan as a ken was incredible!

i hope you liked it!

#barbie #barbie movie #barbie x reader #ken x reader #ryan gosling #margot robbie #imagines #barbie 2023 #fluff #request #requests are open #f!reader

[guacamoleroll]

𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖉 「𝔩𝔲𝔠𝔦𝔣𝔢𝔯」 ೀ⋆｡˚

content. f!reader. discussions of separation/divorce, friends to lovers, (name) is a fallen angel, sexual harassment, insecurities, discussions of mental health, spoilers for hazbin hotel season finale, implied/referenced not-safe for work. not proofread. 3.3k+ words.

author's note. i'm not sure if i'll be making a valentine's day post, but i haven't updated in a while, and i wanted to post something. so here's another hazbin hotel oneshot that's been in my drafts for a while! (sorry to all my bsd readers, i will be posting content soon!) i hope you guys enjoy ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-

would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!

synopsis. two fallen ones, cut from the same cloth, destinies forever intertwined by the choices you made as young seraphim.

OR someone comes in to try and ruin your relationship with lucifer, and he isn't happy about it.

You remembered the sensation of an eternal inferno, the mark of damnation that scorched your fingertips, submerging your divine being within a cluster of flames. Exiled from the heavens—a fate worse than death to most became an accepted element of your newfound reality. You never belonged perched atop clouds, even with the virtue nestled in the recesses of your heart. A part of you feared the unknown as you descended through novas and clouds, but it felt like a pressure had lifted from your being as those imposing gates shrunk behind you.

As the first of a cluster of falling stars, your impact landed you on the steaming ground of a new, hellish landscape, your mind scattered from the force of the fall, limbs trembling with their aching joints. And that was when you saw him, a brand-new man who held out his hand, smile desperate yet reassuring. The Morning Star himself, brought upon the same fate, still shaken from the tragedy of his descent—it had been much more personal for him.

“It’ll be okay, (Name),” his familiar voice reassured, but it was impossible not to hear the waver in his tone as your hands intertwined. “It’ll all be okay.”

And with a single touch, traversing hand-in-hand through this foreign land, you knew that someday, he would be right.

But that happened many millennia ago, a tale for storybooks rather than a memory that should’ve constantly been on a loop in your mind, held onto during the dead of lonely, bitter nights. Despite your long-standing friendship, the both of you held very separate lives—him with his family, you with your industry. You worked in tandem in relation to the public and aristocratic duties but otherwise barely spoke past the occasional smile and wave. And no, you couldn’t help the desolation that had sprouted inside your heart, the muscle aching as you observed his radiant smile from across ballrooms, the king exchanging affectionate glances at his wife while coddling his sweet daughter. But you were happy for him all the same. He deserved to be surrounded by those he loved, deserved to be happy after years of heartbreak, even if you weren’t in the picture.

But you knew that you could depend on each other, even if you hadn’t spoken in months. It was an unspoken connection between you, a rule unbroken. Which was the reason you knew his midnight call one evening had been serious. His voice was flooded with anguish, sputtering out incomprehensible words as his breath caught with every beat. You dropped everything, the paperwork and meeting planning, flying over with speed so fast that the denizens of Hell whispered for days about the shooting star that had flown across the sky that evening. 

In your journey, there was one persistent question that kept bothering you—why wasn’t his wife the one to comfort him? It wasn’t that you minded, not at all, but the entire situation struck you as odd. However, your answer became clear as you cracked open the doors to his bed chambers; the room was frozen and still as if left abandoned. However, the knocked-over furniture and smashed artifacts only made it look like it was robbed, which you highly doubted. And there in the center of the chaos was the Morning Star himself—no, Lucifer. Simply Lucifer. His body crumpled to the ground, painful hiccups leaving his lips. You slipped inside with ease and were about to grab his attention, and then you spotted it, the large lettering of a familiar type of document—a divorce agreement.

You were aware that the relationship between Lucifer and Lilith wasn’t perfect, not by any means. When they had fallen in love, there wasn’t a guideline for navigating relationships and marriage. They had to play it entirely by ear, leading to rushed decisions and a shaky foundation. You had always believed that they were each other’s perfect half, but it was only because their punishment and subsequent banishment had tied them together and forced them to suffer the same fate. At least, that was their belief for a couple of millennia. It didn’t mean that the split that was bound to happen didn’t hurt.

His cries had been hard to hear, throaty and painful, his body trembling as he mourned on the floor. It took a culmination of your mental and physical strength to unravel him, forcing him away from those papers and into an embrace, slowly steadying his breath with yours as he clung to you as if you would leave if he let go. That night set the standard for weeks of a miserable routine, with the former king reduced to sobs and silence. It was unbearable, especially as he pulled away from those who cared for him—his fellow sins, his friends, and especially his daughter. But you continued to hold on, not leaving even with his harsh utterances and occasional outbursts. You wouldn’t let him be alone, couldn’t let him be alone, moving into the broken family’s manor to care for him full-time.

And he would always be thankful for that.

His mental health was climbing uptick for years, fluctuating back and forth until he had stabilized, at least in comparison to his state before. He became fantastic at masking his depression, brushing it underneath the rug as he delved into his own creations, pushing many of his relationships even further away as he stopped leaving home. You were the one to bring him food and clean the estate—his staff had drifted to other careers over the past few years. You were the one assuring that he wasn’t left hunched over a bench in the worst posture possible, toiling away with his latest obsession, no matter the cuteness of the ducks.

In his more conscious moments, you would listen as he ranted about his issues, even though you both were aware they were a product of his self-isolation. But in those instants, whispering quietly as if the heavens still held onto your every word, hiding from its light as if the touch of it would scorch your skin, an intimacy blossomed from the depths of your former friendship. It had remained idle for centuries, underlying the foundation of every interaction and word, leaving fleeting touches and shared laughter in your blissful youths for stern support and brief softness in your demonic adulthoods—neither of you ever noticed that you saw the other through heart-shaped lenses. Two fallen ones, cut from the same cloth, destinies forever intertwined by the choices you made as young seraphim.

But that had been the norm for thousands of years.

And without knowing, you had fallen into a relationship stage humans had archaically dubbed as “courting,” traveling outside the estate for the chance to spend time with one another, exchanging personalized gifts whenever the opportunity arose, swapping words of encouragement and affection. It was only after you had kissed him on the cheek one night that you both realized your feelings, and it only spiraled on from there. There were scars from his past love—undoubtedly, you had nurtured them with care—but even despite those, you worked to establish a healthy, balanced relationship as you navigated this strange stage in your lives.

However, there was someone who had not been quite so fond of this new development. You had attended meetings with the Heaven Embassy for many years as a favor to Lucifer, his absence becoming common after his separation from Lilith, but you could still remember locking eyes with the first man as you entered the room, dropping the chicken drum in his hands as his mouth widen agape.

“Hot damn.”

His flirtatious and oftentimes self-centered advances didn’t fly past your head like you wished they would. It seemed despite having thousands of years under his belt, he was unable to learn any kind of manners, but he had been the original sexist prick. And for his status as a divine man, he fucked around a lot. You didn’t doubt that was due to his own insecurities about both of his wives preferring someone else’s dick over his.

Once you and Lucifer had started dating, you happened to make the mistake of slipping that information to Adam in the hopes that he would back off, but it only seemed to provide him a challenge as his flirtations increased tenfold. From then on, your meetings no longer consisted of the same old information surrounding the exterminations; rather, they were him pointing out the many sexual accolades that he had roped under his belt and the way that apparently made him better than Lucifer—his favorite line was always that “that snake must have a little snake.”

Your disdain was obvious, repeating over and over for him to shut his mouth, but he would only smirk, taking your response as a sign that he had struck a nerve and that it was an opportunity to dig deeper. You decided to take over all the meetings with the embassy, keeping Lucifer away from the lecherous banter of the man, no matter the discomfort that formed in your gut from his unabashed perverseness and the predatory stares at your body.

“Come onnnn, babe,” Adam whined, in the middle of biting the meat off a chicken bone.

You shot him a look. “I’m not your babe, Adam.”

“Babe.” If you were able to reach over and strangle him, you would’ve. That was probably the reason the coward used a hologram instead of coming here himself. “A guy like that couldn’t possibly please you the way I could.”

You massaged your nose bridge, pointedly ignoring the flicker of his eyes from your face to your chest, unable to maintain stable eye contact. “Can we just get on with the meeting?”

“You know I’m right, but I’ll let you off the hook for now.”

You groaned, slamming your head onto the table.

From years onward, his nerve only increased, but he had never shown his bloodlust to you before until the exorcist army descended from the heavens to wreak chaos and death upon the doorstep of Lucifer’s only child, Charlie. You and the ever-so-optimistic princess of Hell developed quite a soft spot for one another, which wasn’t difficult since you had already been considered family in centuries past. The title of your romantic relationship with her father initially came with questions and a couple of awkward moments, but it wouldn’t stop either of you from growing a deeper friendship and understanding, walking through the process together. And it definitely didn’t stop you from defending the girl you had seen for years as a pseudo-daughter, along with her noble ambitions.

“Charlie!” you yelled, knocking Adam away from her as he attempted to strangle her. Charlie sputtered, holding her throat with a pained cough, and you raised a steady hand to her back, helping her rise to her feet. You gave her a once-over, relieved to find that she had no substantial wounds besides a couple of cuts and bruises.

You sighed, cupping her rosy cheeks. “Thank goodness you’re alright. Sorry for being so late. Your father will be here any moment.”

Her formerly desolate expression quickly changed into a beaming smile, eyes glimmering with revitalized determination. “Good! We need all the help we can get.”

However, the moment was cut short by the overexaggerated breaths of a particular man, Adam wobbling to his feet as he cradled his bruised ribs, which you didn’t doubt had been cracked in the impact. It was hard not to smile as he struggled to stand, a wave of retribution twitching through your fingertips.

“You bitch,” he groaned between shallow gasps, though his voice drifted into a humorous lilt. “You know, I’m all for feisty women, but this shit’s a bit extreme, don’tcha think, babe?”

“I am not your babe, Adam.”

You cringed at the moan that left his lips, knowing it was not from the pain of his bruises. “God damn, I love it when you say my name.” He chuckled. “It’d be better if you screamed it.”

“You couldn’t have been that good if both your wives left you for someone else,” you muttered, swallowing your bodily urge to vomit as you rubbed the burgeoning headache coursing through your temples.

His expression drained of any warmth or humor, only leaving behind the rotted, sinful corpse of a man that he pretended not to be. “What the fuck did you say to me, bitch?”

“Hmmm,” you hummed, rolling your eyes. “Did I strike a nerve there?”

His mouth contorted into a snarl. “You know, the only reason that snake keeps your ass around is because he needs a couple of assets,” he barked, curving his hands to gesture toward your curves. “To distract him!”

“Hey! Don’t talk about him—”

He cut you off, his imposing figure towering over you. “You’re only a convenience. A pretty face and a hole to fuck.”

You gasped, but he didn’t let you speak, a smirk curling up on his disgusting face. “You don’t mean anything to him, hun,” he sneered, his voice sickeningly sweet as he grabbed your chin, craning your neck at a muscle-aching angle to stare into your eyes. “You had a chance at heaven, slut. A chance to be with me. And you fuckin’ blew it—!”

He didn’t have a chance to finish his sentence, a bone-crunching punch tunneling into his face, his body cast off the hotel, which rocked under the aftershock, before it started to crumble like a deck of cards. With no time to waste, you and Charlie haphazardly jumped from shrapnel piece to shrapnel piece, able to land on the ground with barely a tumble as it collapsed into your foundation. The moment would’ve been devastating if your focus hadn’t been pinpointed elsewhere, the screams of a dying man drawing everyone to the impact pit.

“You have a lot of fuckin’ nerve,” a low voice scowled, sweltering steam blocking everyone’s vision away from the pair until it evaporated into the air, and that was when you spotted him. His voice was barely recognizable. The duplicated tones and whispers surrounding each word made him unidentifiable. But you knew who it was; those familiar sets of wings and the eyes of his tailcoat were clues enough. You hadn’t seen him take this form in decades, centuries even—he had no use for it, and to go to such an extreme was unlike him. He was shaking more than ever before; his fists balled up Adam’s collar as he pinned him to the ground.

“Intruding on my fuckin’ realm. Hurting my daughter.” And with each offense, another blow was added to the first man’s face, which looked more like roadkill than a former human with each malefaction. “Harassing and insulting my future wife!”

“Don’t you mean your little whore?” Adam managed to utter, that cocky tone still persistent. 

But that was a terrible mistake.

Lucifer did not respond to his comment, not at all. Instead, he paused, finding himself unprepared for the sheer audacity of the man underneath him, a man only clinging to life through recesses of holy power and spite. To the unsuspecting bystander, it would seem the king had calmed himself down, but instead, an inferno blazed between his fingertips, his form threatening to tear with the amount of heavenly light that he balanced on his palms. The ire of his many eyes looked upon Adam, and they saw to it that his judgment day had come early.

“Die.”

“Dad!”

Luck seemed to have Adam’s back as Charlie intervened, one of the few people who could ever draw her father out of such an irate warpath. However, it was only after a moment of contemplation from Lucifer, whose eyes stared at Adam, his face unreadable as his fingers twitched before he cracked a wicked smirk.

“How’s mercy feel, bitch?”

The next moments were a blur, though those eyes had turned towards you instead, not with the anger they had towards Adam, but of sheer contemplation—not that you paid attention to them, watching Adam’s death unfold in an ironically anti-climatic sort of way. You would’ve felt bad if your mind didn’t remedy the guilt in your gut with memories of your several encounters, most of which were not PG-13. The rest of the staff and residents gathered their bearings, joining to work on rebuilding the hotel, but you did not have the strength to. Instead, you took a moment for yourself, thoughts toiling through your head as they often did, not understanding the icky, nauseous feeling pooling at the bottom of your stomach.

You flinched at the brush of a hand that rested on your shoulder, only to find that it had been Lucifer, his brow furrowed in that same contemplative expression. And much like those times alone in the estate decades prior, a patient silence persisted as he sat next to you, gauging each touch as he pulled you closer, allowing your limp body to lean into his.

“You know none of what that asshole said is true, right?”

Is that what you had been so concerned about? You couldn’t tell. Your thoughts surrounding your relationship, especially in the context of his former love, had always been indecipherable, even to yourself. His question brought a small beam of clarity into the shadowed pits of your darkest thoughts, but it wasn’t the time to talk about it. Not now, at least.

“Yeah, I know.” Your voice was more shaken than you wanted it to come out, but he understood the underlying message. He could tell it wasn’t the truth, not entirely, and that the roots of your insecurities weren’t something to be remedied through a singular conversation. But it was a start. He intertwined your fingers, caressing the bare area of your ring finger.

“I wish you would’ve told me,” he spoke, his voice soft. “I would never have let you go to those meetings.”

You stayed staring out into the distance. “It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

However, he believed differently, tilting your chin as he cupped your face, much more loving compared to the hands that had grabbed you prior. And his eyes, ones that had been filled with hatred, now glinted in sharp concern. “But it is a big deal. That’s sexual harassment.”

“You were going through so much,” you replied. “It was just one additional thing I didn’t want you to deal with. Another burden on your back.”

“(Name),” he said, voice stern.

The gruffness of his uncompromising tone drew your eyes to your hands. “Any insult to you is an insult to me. Always has been, always will be. People don’t get to talk to you like that. It doesn’t matter what shit I’m going through. That doesn’t mean you get to be thrown under the bus.” He cracked a smile. “And anyone who even thinks of treating you less than the perfection you are deserves to be roasted alive. You’re not a burden. You’re priceless.”

“You’re really into those cannibalism metaphors recently,” you quipped, a bit of your reprieve and humor returning back. He laughed, his heart falling into ease, though he recognized the nod towards his disdain for a certain radio demon, his expression contorting in disgust.

“I’m not gonna eat him! Think of how gross that thing would taste. Just awful, bleh—!”

You cut him off with a kiss, making his rosy cheeks redden more. “Thanks, Lu.”

You tried to stand. His arm braced underneath your back, a hand brushing across the sensitive skin of your waist as he hovered above, his lips locked onto yours. You sighed into his mouth as his fingers mapped every beauty mark of your face, only for him to split, panting. His eyes shone with recognizable desperation, but the smirk on his lips told you he was prepped to tease, brushing the stray baby hairs out of your face that had been ruffled in the fray.

“If someone ever bothers you like that again, you tell me. Got it?”

You only sighed. “Lucifer, I can handle my—”

He pressed a kiss to your knuckles, mouth upturned in a cheeky grin at the way it cut you off. “It’s not smart to fight without your shield, now, is it?’

You relented, unable to withhold your bashful grin. “Of course.”

A silence persisted.

“Your future wife, hm?”

“…shit.”

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @little-miss-chaoss

© ɢᴜᴀᴄᴍᴏʟᴇʀᴏʟʟ 2024 — ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ʀᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ. ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏᴍᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇɴᴄᴏᴜʀᴀɢᴇᴅ

#muse's anthology ‧₊˚ ⋅ #f!reader #starring: lucifer .ೃ࿐ #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #queued ═ ꒱ˎˊ˗

[lyxandria]

patience breeds success - dr. ratio x f!reader

cw: nsfw- mdni; smut; piv; multiple orgasms; missionary; mating press; prone bone; edging; overstimulation; size kink; begging; breeding kink; creampie; no protection used; dubcon; talk of pregnancy; praise kink (reader referred to as "good girl"); female-bodied reader.

are you challenging me? he asks, his hips stopping mid-thrust.

yes, you reply breathless, annoyed he has stopped fucking you. dragging your hands down his muscular back, you dig your nails into the soft flesh of his backside. pushing his cock deeper in your pussy as you press your hips up to meet his.

are you aware who you are talking to? he scoffs at you as his tall body looms over yours. your body caged under his, his eyes narrow to slits as he stares at you with the ferocity of one of the great felines. 

of course i do. your pussy clenches, squeezing his shaft until he lets out a soft and delicious groan. you're dr. veritas ratio. a genius more intelligent than anyone else. a man who can do anything and everything he sets his mind to.

that's right, he chokes out with pride as you squeeze his cock again. 

and that's why I want you to fuck a baby inside me. you look up at him, your smile wicked. tempting. he wants to wipe that smug smile off your face.

and destroy you.

are you up for the challenge?

he dips his head low to meet yours. foreheads touching, his breath like fire on your lips, he lifts his hand and ghosts your cheek with his fingertips. you press your face into his touch, the gesture soft and tender.

he quickly covers your mouth with his as he moves his hand to your hip, his fingers digging into your precious skin, sure to leave bruises tomorrow.

i hope you know what you're asking for, he whispers between kisses. he pulls away as he withdraws his cock until only the tip remained inside you. he waits a moment, enjoying the soft look on your face, knowing it's the last time he will see it until he is done breeding you.

without warning, he slams his hips against yours, his balls smacking your ass, the air in your lungs pushed out as he buries himself deep inside your walls.

you best be prepared for what you asked for. his thrusts are merciless as he drills your pussy with his cock, his tip reaching deeper and deeper with each rough stroke.

his hand finds yours. his fngers interlacing with yours, he brings your joined hands to your belly. he presses your palm against your skin just a few inches below your belly button. do you feel me? is this deep enough, you think? 

you look down at your where your palm is, the outline of tip of his cock pushing up on your skin. your breath hitches, having never seen anything more sexy, you're afraid you’ll come right there and then.

as if reading your mind, he slows his strokes, denying you your release. Please, you beg. it feels so good.

not yet, he coos in your ear. i have a job to do tonight, and i've never failed in performing any task. you whimper and whine, your body thrashing against the sheets, seeking some form of relief from this crual frustration.

he slows his thrusts so much, your pussy is simply warming his cock. his gaze meets you, frustration, too, written all over his handsome features – clearly not the only one who is hungry and needy for more.

closing your eyes, you try to relax your body; he might have the upper hand now, but you have no intention of giving in and begging.

he takes advantage of your diminished senses and utilizes that precise moment to resume pounding your pussy.

biting on his shoulder, your body is wracked with pleasure as he ravishes you. veritas truly is the best at all he does – he is a skilled lover, knowing exactly where your sweet spot is. the one that when he hits just right, you scream out the most lewd and obscene noises as your pussy clamps down on his cock.

make as much noise as you like, he encourages as he continues to impale your sweet spot with his cock. your sounds are like sweet music to my ears.

unsure you could take anymore, you succumb to his cruelty, his hard thrusts getting rougher as he fucks you harder. 

that's it, he praises, you’re taking me so good. your pussy feels so good, so tight, he grunts as he slams his hips into yours the pleasure building inside you until it is overwhelming.

come for me. cream on my cock, he urges as he buries his cock deep inside you, your walls tightening and spasming as you cum all over his cock.

you are still riding the waves of ecstasy as he begins to rock his body against yours. he laughs when he notices a look of confusion on your face as you realize his cock is still buried inside you.

he starts to rail your blissed out body. unable to move much, your pussy becomes a glorified fleshlight for veritas to fuck as he sees fit. his pace increases, his shaft sliding deeper and deeper inside your tight walls. 

he slows his strokes, guiding one of your ankles over his shoulder. you're certain of this? his voice is gentle, all traces of his earlier audacity now gone. 

your eyes meet him and you nod. he gazes back at you intently, needing to hear the words you said to him earlier again.

i want you to breed me, you sighed, so desperate to be filled with his seed. i want you to fuck a baby into me tonight.

veritas smiles at you, eager to complete his task.

it would be my pleasure, he whispers. guiding your other ankle over his shoulder, your legs spread wide open, pussy exposed. he withdraws his cock fully, then rubs his cock along your slit.

please, you beg, desperate and needy. i need you to fill me up with your cum.

as you wish.

with your thighs spread, he slams into you, his cock easily sliding in with one hard thrust. his name is but a moan on your lips, your breasts bouncing vigorously with each rough stroke from his cock.

take it, he grunts as he pounds you, the pleasure building in both your bodies.

i can't wait, you whine loudly, needing your second release.

not yet, just a little longer. he snaps his hips against yours, his balls slapping your ass on each stroke. i know you can take me deeper. he presses his palm against your belly. almost there, he coaxed, his cock already so deep he is rearranging your insides. 

you're almost there, he praises you. just think of how beautiful you will look when your body swollen with my child.

titling your head back, you cry out as your orgasm rips through your body, your pussy creaming on his cock for a second time this evening.

only after you reach your peak does he increase his pace, his cock throbbing as his tip seeks your womb. with a loud grunt, he rams his cock inside you and fills you with his seed, painting your walls white.

your walls squeeze his shaft, milking him of every last drop, not wanting to waste any of his seed.

that was amazing, you whisper, your combined juices mixing and already flowing down your leg. despite his cock softening, he was still buried inside you.

the night is young, he says with a wicked grin. he pulls out, his cock semi-erect and rolls you onto your belly. wrapping a hand around his thick shaft, and it only takes a few hard tugs before he is hard again

climbing atop your prone body, he lines his cock to your entrance and begins to push inside.

no! you begin to protest, your body screaming in pain as he slowly thrusts inside you. it hurts. so big, can't fit all of you. your words are an incomprehensible mess as he continues to slide his length into your sore and abused hole.

he presses gentle kisses upon your cheek. shhh… he soothes. it's okay. i know you can take it all and make me fit inside your tight pussy. tears roll down your cheeks as he ignores your tears and continues to pound deeper inside your pussy. don't forget, you're the one who asked for this. you asked me – no, begged me – to fuck a baby inside you.

with one rough thrust, he buries his cock inside you, your body ripping in half as his cock is swallowed in your folds. 

ahhh… it hurts! you scream out as he pushes your thighs closer to your torso, bending and breaking your body in half.

he looks down and admires the sight below – his thick cock plunged deep in your tight pussy, your combined arousal leaving a ring of white around where your bodies are joined.

he kisses the rim of your ear, his kisses hot and biting, like the words whispered in your ear.

take a rest if you like. allow your body to pass out, if you can. you'll certainly need it; we will be at this until the sun comes up, my dear.

#Honkai star rail x Reader #Honkai star rail x Reader smut #Hsr x Reader smut #Hsr x Reader #Honkair star rail x f!Reader #Hsr x f!Reader #Honkair star rail x f!reader smut #Hsr x f!reader smut #F!reader #hsr dr ratio #hsr dr ratio x reader #Honkair star rail Dr ratio #Honkai star rail Dr ratio x Reader #honkai star rail smut #honkai star rail #dr ratio #veritas ratio

[12welveinched]

Y'all literally write fanfics like you're men. How is it that in your own fantasy world, you're not getting pleasure from it? With every reader x character, it's you pleasuring the character. Women write fanfics like how men view porn.

You're so feminist that even in your own fantasies, you think that you are ugly and that this character would never want you. So unless they're degrading, using, and beating you. That's the only true way you think that they could ever desire you.

I'm not even going to get started on the of-age-reader x underage characters because if I need to tell you why that's wrong, you need to be put on a watch list.

#eddie munson x reader #sukuna x reader #yuuji itadori x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #arthur morgan x reader #levi ackerman x reader #billy hargrove x reader #tony stark x reader #leon kennedy x reader #john marston x reader #jjk x reader #f!reader #steve harrington x reader #daryl dixon x female reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barns x reader #geto suguru x reader