Reblogged
never return (but I wish you did)
Reblogged godtrauma
Reblogged
look out for me
✦summary: after being woken up, soldier boy found a woman, promised he'd never leave her, then did. two years later, he's back and looking for one thing only. you.✦
✦warnings/tags: Soldier Boy x female!reader, no use of y/n, no description of reader, age gap (he's a hundred, it's to be expected), angst, softer!ben, canon divergance, pining, some plot to get to the smut (posessiveness, some spanking, dirty talk, teasing, praise and degredation kink, dom!Ben, fingering, begging, manhandling, nipple play, pussy slapping, fingering, oral f!reciving, edging, creampie, big dick ben, overstimulation, body worship, rough sex, just complete debauchery, dumbification, dacryphilia, finger sucking, squirting), love confessions, fluff✦
✦wc: 11.1k✦
✦author's note: made myself start drooling with this one. enjoy!✦
You had a secret. And you kept it buried in the deepest, most sacred corner of your heart. Not out of shame.
Out of survival.
It’s best to keep your head down, in a world like this one. Supes patrol the streets, and people who are a little too loud and unhappy get sent to their death. Vought says it’s just to be corrected, but you know. Everyone knows.
They’ve just all learned how to whisper about it.
And you’re braver than you wanted to be. You do more than you should be doing, when the most anyone should be worrying about is waking up in their bed the next morning. But there’s the teenage girl who lives down the hall from you, who got loud about hating Homelander in school, and almost got taken because of it. You helped her get out, and lied to the face of the people who showed up to find her.
You lied with a smile, too.
Reblogged
gentle intimacy
summary: leon would not describe himself as good or kind, and he's cut open and bleeding at your feet, but you know he can be gentle | leon kennedy x f!reader
word count: 6.2k
warnings: a sickening amount of yearning, leon taking care of you, seriously this guy is down bad, leon being self deprecating, alternating povs, acts of service as a love language, mentions of injuries, sherry birkin appearance /// 18+ MDNI, SMUT!!!, unprotected piv, oral (f receiving), creampie by technicality, trust me there's plot, this is LOVE MAKING at its core
notes: re9 gave me the leon bug BAD. personally, I wrote this with DI!leon in mind but re9!leon also works here bc that old man's still got it | ao3
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Reblogged
Now I know she'll never leave me, even as she runs away… she will still torment me. | Baelor Breakspear.
( Baelor Targaryen x fem!reader )
résumé: After years of loneliness after his widowhood, Baelor finds himself caught in an ethical dilemma because of both his carnal and emotional desire for his sons’ young governess. Will he be able to ignore his lust, or will he give in to temptation?
warnings: Age gap!! Reader is in her twenties while Baelor is 40 years old. There is mention of nudity, but no explicit description of it or of any sexual act. It’s only Baelor yearning, drowning in guilt, and tormenting himself with his own thoughts.
word count: 1,8k!
author's note: I’ll probably delete this later because I feel like it’s… too much, maybe. I believe that if Baelor were ever interested in someone younger than him, he would go through a complete crisis between his honor and his values, like… I’ll just leave it here 🫡
It was humiliating how a man who considered himself honorable could be reduced to ashes by your mere presence. Even without realizing it, you tormented Baelor wherever you went, and every time his gaze met yours, the guilt that flooded him would not allow him to eat for days.
You were the young instructress of his children, only a couple of years older than his prince, Valarr. You had always been warm and patient while teaching them. Even Matarys held immense affection for you, as you were the only one capable of telling him stories that soothed his curiosity.
You were only doing your job… your duty. And there was Baelor, wishing you would call him your king, even if it were pure blasphemy. Yearning to know whether your skin was as soft as it appeared, to trace with his fingertips the curves hidden beneath your garments.
