I just want to put out some more details about my blog here, especially if you’re wondering about what i write for and about.
I write for cod, rdr, frankenstein, and more, but that’s the main ones. I write a lot of unconventional scenarios—at least, I want to—so that includes horror-like scenarios (dead dove, do not eat). None of that is to be taken literally. These are fictional characters, and I use these themes and plots to explore the characters more in depth.
I also wanna preface by saying that all of what I write is x reader, but I do have some biases. Because of this, in my head while writing, reader is chubby with curly hair and AFAB, and an American raised in Appalachia, so please be aware while reading. These biases can fluctuate
I do take requests! Feel free to send some, or to just DM if you wanna talk :)
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hi hi. just want to say i love your drabbles and everything 🫶
but, uh… i hope this isn’t too weird or freaky to say but i love the idea of fat!pope cody; it just makes me feel some type of way, i can’t explain it. like, i desperately need him 🙈 need something written for him, ughhh (no pressure and you absolutely don’t have to!) 🥺
I LOVE FAT POPE and thank you so much!! here’s something i wrote more private ab him! ->
fat Pope who could just pick u up and fuck u on himself. like from under your ass, u don't even have to do much but keep your hands steady on his shoulders, occasionally grabbing his chubby biceps that bulge up ever so slightly. letting him bounce you on his cock, essentially using you like a fleshlight.
“god baby, feel so fucking good. love using you like this, know that? my pretty little doll..” he’s got his glasses over his sweaty curls, mouth agape and chubby cheeks reddening.
and when his triceps get tired, hell wrap his arms around your body (yes and your arms) and just shove you down while he fucks into you from underneath. simple. the former feels amazing, but the switch in position makes you both go crazy every time :3
I feel like Pope Cody trying to drop hints that he liked you would be like a bird trying to court another. Mainly in the way he would throw shiny stuff at you.
He’d get interested in only robbing high end jewelry stores, and if any of his family asked, he would simply say they were the most reliable in getting money out of.
The day after a heist, you’d wake up to the tings of a 24k gold ring being batted across your floors by your cat, just to find enough jewelry to pay for someone’s mortgage on your coffee table. Tiffany, Swarvoski, Cartier, Van Cleef, all in a pile. It had to be intentional—all the necklaces, bracelets, and anklets were clasped to ensure they didn’t tangle. You probably would have no idea who it is.
And when you confide in Andrew Cody, a acquaintance in your life, he just shrugs his shoulders and points out how a lot of the jewelry has your birthstone.
I LOST AN EDIT I SAW ON TIK TOK OF NURSE DANA TO THE SONG ILL BELIEVE IN ANYTHING BY WOLF PARADE AND IT HAS DR ROBBY TALKING IN THE BEGINNING PLS HELP ME FIND IT 💔
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I love how "Sinners" didn't villify the sinners in the movie. Sammie's father told him that playing music for "drunkards and philanderers who abandon their family responbilities to sweat all over each other" was a sin. And he was right about the kind of people going to the juke joint: Delta Slim is an alcoholic, and Pearline a cheater. It would have been easy to villify them, but the movie tells us that despite their flaws, they are humans worthy of love, respect and freedom.
Delta Slim drinks because he's traumatized by the horrors Black people of his time face. And he's kind and compassionate, encouraging and reassuring Sammie, and sacrificing himself to save everyone else.
Pearline literally saved Sammie's life and sacrificed herself to protect him, a boy she had only known for a day. It shows her kindness because she could have easily stayed back when Remmick tried to bite Sammy and not endangered her life more than necessary.
The movie shows us that preachers blindly condemning those sinners are wrong: Sammie is only alive because drunkards, philanderers and gangsters (Smoke) gave their lives to protect him. They are people, with flaws and qualities.
I love how nuanced the movie is: Sammie's father is not wrong about the kind of people Sammie wants to associate with and their potential bad influence, but he's wrong about them being evil and not deserving of respect.
There is something to say about how people bitch and moan and say they have no culture because they’re American, but then will turn around and wish death to rural areas and call them backwards and behind.
thinking about jack making reader squirt for the first time cause ex!robby never made them do that🤭
MASTERLIST(S) | PREVIOUS PART | INBOX ✉
˙⋆✮ JACK and ROBBY'S EX!READER are fucking... and jack has this trick that can make you temporarily forget that robby ever existed. warnings include language, jack pov, attending!reader, fingering, squirting, bodily fluids
"baby, you keep squirming like that, 'n i can't help you."
you're trembling so hard that your teeth might be chattering, hanging onto jack's thighs with your back to his chest. both of you against the headboard, the man's got his grip all over and inside you. one hand, his palm, is pressing warm below under your belly button. the other has two fingers pumping inside your hole, making sure to curl right into the spot he's been massaging long enough to have you sweating and slurring your words.
"…f-uh-ck you," is all you breathe back, and jack kisses the side of your head before pressing his cheek into the same spot with a silent laugh.
"would," jack croaks, bending his arm to stuff his fingers a little deeper. just because he can. "but 'm kinda in the middle'a something, if you haven't noticed."
a strangled noise cracks out of your throat, and jack hums as to say, yep, right. exactly.
"see, i got this sweet thing wrapped up nice here, who claimed i couldn't make them squirt like a fountain, and yet…" jack trails off to a concentrated, lip-bitten pause at the feeling of a familiar clench around his fingers. grunting, he pumps away until a pretty splash gushes from between your quaking thighs. "here you are. my fuckin' fountain."
jack keeps moving, squelching his hand from you just so swipe flat fingers across your clit to keep you flooding his sheets. even though his lips find your ear to rasp you through, jack can't really talk. too busy watching the way your skin shines and stomach flipping at how you're grabbing at him and begging for something only he's been able to give you.
"i know, baby… i know."
jack helps you loop your arm around his neck as another anchor, patting your belly while you try to breathe between shakes.
There is just something about girl with shortish hair—like a bob—with like very messy hair and big fat chunky glasses that makes me wanna just like do things to her. Like. Idk. Like a very nerdy one too…
I am a girl with short hair and chunky glasses but I fear I will never be like other girls with short hair and chunky glasses 😔
Just Phillip who’s been mouthing off to you all day, even as you’re trying to ride the attitude outta him.
“C’mon, girl,” he grunts, gripping your hips with a bruising hold, fingers digging into supple flesh. Your lips purse, but you don’t stop him, because you have hope he’ll knock it off soon. The biggest problem? He’s fighting off his own orgasm to make this go on longer, like a bad lil’ dog fighting off sleep, barking because it can’t sleep even though they’re keeping themselves up…
You grind your hips down on to his pelvis harder, hoping to sedate him. Instead, he suddenly grabs your arm to keep you in place, while simultaneously groping your ass like he was a virgin, bouncing you up and down along his dick himself, while also thrusting messily. It was just bad, and he knew it was, he was just being an ass.
“Yeah, take it you fucking tramp—“ he’s only able mumble the beginning of a slew of obscenities before you pop him in the mouth with a quick flick of your hand, and that’s what does it. He moans like a bitch as he comes, blood dripping down his chin from his lip catching on your rings. Hell, you might’ve chipped his tooth.
But the pain and pleasure felt so good, all of it feeling like fireworks inside him.
Afterwards, he drops his forehead against your shoulder with a mumbled sorry. But, before he can even get out of the aftershocks, you’re yanking his head back up by his hair, and holding your vibrator to his tip, since he just had to have it.
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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Anya is LIVE right now
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simon 'ghost' riley x reader in which !reader makes him better in bed. because chances are? he's probably not great, no matter what we all like to collectively think. but he can be taught. and reader is not suffering through mediocre sex (promise).
for all the times you'd heard ghost fucking through your shared barracks wall you thought he'd be at least okay in bed.
wrong.
turns out all those whimpers and moans you'd heard from his… partners were award winning acting on their parts. if they ever needed a new job, porn would be more than happy to have them.
because now, with ghost’s body hovering over yours after a few too many drinks at the pub off base, all you can think is “christ, this shit is terrible”.
okay there's a modicum of effort there. it's not like he didn't try to prep you - if a few kitten licks of your clit and some fingering so bad you feel like you're fifteen and behind the bike sheds again could be counted as prep.
you hoped the penetrative sex would be better. his cock was beautiful - thick but not long enough to feel like it was spearing your diaphragm, curved in a way that meant the head of it dragged over the squishy spot on the front wall of your cunt that made your breath hitch - but no. he’s fucking you like a dog; erratic, rhythmless and sloppy.
you can't even bring yourself to fake a moan. you're just lying there almost limp, mind wandering to all the other things you could be doing with your time rather than suffering through less than mediocre sex.
when he snakes his hand between you to rub your clit - trying, at least - you finally snap.
“fucking hell simon, not like that. are you trying to friction burn my clit off, you complete prick?” you hiss at him, shoving your palms into his chest to get him to back off.
he looks shocked. like no one has ever called him out for his lack of sexual prowess before.
“wha’?” he sounds genuinely confused, “the fuck love? thought you were enjoyin’ yourself.”
he slides out of you with a slick pop, eyebrows knitted together in disbelief. you roll your eyes. “what gave you the idea i was enjoying myself, ghost? my utter silence?” it's dry, deadpan.
he looks halfway between dejected and pissed. like no one has ever even hinted that he's anything less than jaw dropping in the sack.
“well ge’ the fuck out of my bed then.” he snaps, defences immediately in place. you roll your eyes again at the fragile masculinity, completely unperturbed by the tension in his voice.
“nah.” you reply, eyes narrowing. “lie the fuck down. i'm gonna do you a fucking favour and show you where you're going wrong.”
so that's how you end up straddling him, hands on his broad chest as you grind down against him; not letting him slip inside yet.
“first of all? fucking ask what people like ghost.” you murmur, throwing your head back and whining as the ridge of his head catches your clit. “some of us like it rough. some soft. just…ask.” you grind against him again, his cock slipping through your now slick folds, “and for the love of christ don't ever just choke someone without asking. last guy who tried that with me ended up with a broken nose.”
ghost nods slightly, eyes flicking between your very serious face and the way you're simply using him to get yourself off.
“if you're eating someone out - get the fuck up in there. make out with their cunt. little flicks of your tongue are just… tickly.” you add thoughtfully, slipping a hand between you to guide his throbbing head to your entrance. “and if you're using your fingers? don't just fucking ram them up there, that shit is just painful. have a bit of technique to it - some people like a crook, some prefer more of an in and out. communicate ghost. and i know you can do that because you're pretty fucking clear over comms.”
he actually groans when you sink down onto him, head tipping back against the headboard; brown eyes fluttering shut.
you flick him in the forehead. hard.
his eyes slam back open, wide and vaguely shocked at your audacity.
“pay attention.” you snap out, as you take him all the way to the base, clit rubbing against the wiry blonde hairs on his pelvis as you move your hips in little circles. “look, i’ve got a rhythm, right?” you add, shifting from your knees to your toes. “i’m not just moving, i’m purposeful.”
you demonstrate with controlled bounces, dragging your walls up and down his length, chasing the pleasure he couldn't give you himself.
“righ’, righ’.” he mutters back, “so wha’ was i doin’?”
you level him with a look that would turn a lesser man to a crying pile on the floor. “you were fucking me like we were in a shitty porn film. no rhythm. no consideration. just… poking at my insides.”
ghost actually blushes slightly. he has the sense to look vaguely embarrassed under your glare.
“and don't get me wrong - there are people that like that. probably. but I'm not one of them.” you continue, unbothered. “so find a rhythm that works for both of you.”
you demonstrate again, a controlled movement that has you both gasping slightly; cunt clenching onto him for dear life as he drags through your walls.
you lean forward, changing the angle slightly, dropping your forehead to his and whining against his mouth. “see? that's what someone sounds like when they're actually having fun, simon. can you hear the difference?”
and ghost hates to admit it, but he can. he can hear the real pleasure in your noises in comparison to the breathy, high pitched whimpers he usually gets. “yeah. yeah. can ‘ear it love.”
“you try.” it's an order rather than a suggestion, body stilling on top of him. his hands find your waist, fingers digging into the flesh there as he bucks up once, tentatively - immediately reassured when you let out a low groan. so he does it again. and again. settling into a rhythm that has you both gasping.
“tha’ better?” and this time he doesn't sound disgruntled, he sounds almost hopeful.
“mm, much better simon.” you grin at him, catching his lower lip between your teeth just to hear the way his breath catches in his throat. “just keep doing that. same pace, same depth.”
so he does. he's good at following clear, specific instructions - not that you expected any different.
you keep your chest pressed against his, face tucked in his neck whilst he fucks up into you; letting the feeling wash over you now it's actually good.
“i need you to play with my clit if i'm gonna cum.” you murmur into his ear, dragging one of his hands between you. “use two fingers to spread the pressure. firm but not fast.” you demonstrate for a moment, hand guiding his until you're sure he's got it. and oh. turns out with guidance ghost can be good in bed. “oh - fuck - okay ghost, keep doing that.”
and he does. he moves exactly as you've told him to - deep, steady thrusts of his cock inside you as the pads of his fingers circle your clit.
“fuck - yer gettin’ tighter love. fuckin' squeezin’ the life outta me. am not gonna last. the fuck?” he manages to hiss out just as you tumble over the edge he's dragged you to with a low moan; forehead dropping to his again as you gasp into his mouth. it's a wave that starts at your cunt and travels up your thighs and stomach, rippling through your nervous system as you go rigid on top of him before just melting into a puddle of flesh shaped like a human being.
ghost tips over the edge right after, hips stuttering as he spills into your still fluttering cunt with a hiss of your name and a flick of his brown eyes into his skull.
there's nothing but trembling breaths for a moment, no sound other than the two of you coming down from a shared high.
when you're settled next to him, arm slung over his waist as he rests his chin on the top of your head he takes a deep breath, before asking almost hesitantly, “why was yer cunt doin’ that? squeezin' me?”
you sigh, glancing up at him. “congratulations simon, you've just given someone an orgasm. apparently for the first time.”
the expression on his face is priceless.
there's a beat of silence and then, “can… can we do tha’ again? for the… practice.”
