l0velylecter

[l0velylecter]

WOW WOW WOW WOW !!! thank you so much for tagging me in this masterpiece darling, i cannot wait to see more of your works !! 🤸‍♀️🫶🏻

Graves//Reader: “My Girl.” |NSFW|

Notes: What it says on the label, baby. It’s 2AM, I wrote this in 15 minutes after binge reading every available piece of Graves smut on this site. @l0velylecter your content sustains me. Thank you for feeding into my little obsession for this silly little war criminal.

Warnings: Smut, smut, smut, mentions of choking, just a word vomit I don’t even remember what I wrote I have work in a couple hours I’m borderline delirious but it’s when I’m at my peak. AFAB reader. End me and make it quick, the neediness I have to please this man is ridiculous please anYONE.

-*-

Your pulse thrums under his fingertips.

He can feel it. The flutter of your heart as his fingers squeeze just so, almost a threat, bordering dangerous. He would never hurt you though. You, his most prized possession, despite being the CEO of an entire Private Army. No, you were far too valuable to him to even dare consider harming in any capacity.

But the control. Fuck, the control makes his head swim. Increases the burning pleasure that seers through his groin as he fucks in and out of you, tenfold. And you trust him wholeheartedly. Never waver, just whine and whimper and cry for more as he takes what he wants from your body and then some.

“Philip-!”

You’re going to be the death of him.

“I know, baby. I know,” he chases where his fingertips had been with his lips, feeling that same stutter in your pulse with his tongue and he groans, “I’m right there with you, doll.”

Your thighs squeeze his waist, tight, cunt a vice around the thick cock that’s making you feel stupid. The air is so thick with sweat and musk that you could choke on it (if his hands don’t get you there first) and you love it. Every second of it. Love how he commands authority in everything he does, right down to the way he wrings pleasure from every fibre that weaves the fabric of your body together. And fuck, the sounds he makes. That rumbling purr of pleasure just sends you spiralling faster and you gasp around the sensation buzzing at your navel.

“C-Can’t- Ohh, fuck, m’ gonna cum-“

He growls. Hips making obscene sounds as they connect with the backs of your thighs, forcing you to take every inch of him with no room for reprieve.

“Cum on my cock, baby,” he says, no, demands, sitting back up on his knees and putting a calloused hand back at your throat, “wanna fuckin’ watch.”

And who are you to deny the Commander anything but what he wants?

You’re beautiful as you come apart, he thinks. Always are, no matter the time of day or how put together you are. But this? Seeing you depraved, hanging off of every word he says, every jerk of his hips, every silent demand from his body? Shit, he’d throw in the towel on his life’s work for it if he were ever forced to choose. It had his hips stuttering, body shuddering as his dick pummels into you, harder, more desperate. And when he fills you up with his cum, he does it with a loud groan of your name, a death-grip on your body like it’s all that’s keeping him grounded to the moment.

It goes quiet after that, save for two pairs of lungs panting in greedy breaths of air. He stays inside you, keeping you stuffed and filled and the sensation has you wriggling with a whine.

“Easy, baby girl,” he shushes, “you did good, honey, so proud’a you.”

His accent is thick. Always is when he’s tired, but still, he hunches forward to catch your lips in a slow, deep kiss. The words that follow mumbled into the softness of your mouth.

“My girl.”

[l0velylecter]

hey darling, how are you doing?

Hi lovely, I'm feeling much better now thank you for checking in ❤️ the past couple of days have been really tough for me, and he situation is still weighing heavily in my heart, but i'm glad to say that i've gone back to my usual routine for uni ! i'm going back to classes and studying so i've been keeping myself busy, not to mention that i've been rewarding myself with some movies to watch at night so... baby steps 🛀🏻💖 i've even gotten a journal to write my thoughts down and it's been really helpful ! Thank you for all of your support, checking in on me means a lot ! have a nice day cowboy dear 💞

[l0velylecter]

Hello, dearie. You've brought so much joy and comfort to so many people through you're writing, and if it's time for you to take a break that's alright and a perfectly good choice. ♡⸝⸝ Take some time to pamper yourself and relax. Everything is going to be okay! Things might be scary and stressful and sad right now but everything happens for a reason. Dawn always follows even the darkest night. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

Hi anons, i hope you don't mind me combining your messages so i can reply to them together ! Thank you so much for the kind and sweet messages, I really appreciate them 💌 The past few days have been rough, and since the situation is awfully complicated it still bears a heavy weight on me today. However, seeing your kind and sincere words in my inbox gives me strength. It gives me reassurance and support, and it warms my heart to know that there are people out there cheering me on. You are all right : i'm human and life happens, i need to take time to heal and the sun rises after every night. Thank you, simple words like these go a long way 💐 I love you all !!! *virtual hugs!*

[l0velylecter]

announcement + update

hi everyone, how are you all? as you’ve noticed, i haven’t been writing a lot for the past few days. my inactivity is caused mostly because i had a really bad argument with one of my irls, which lead to the end of our friendship... someone whom i really trusted had hurt me very deeply and i don’t think i can be writing anything anytime soon. i have some headcanons and blurbs sitting in my drafts, maybe i can piece some of them together to publish, but i fear the quality will drop or not be the same...so in the meantime, i apologise : i need some time for myself and to reflect. but once i’ve gathered my thoughts and move on from the hurt, i’ll be more happy to come back here.  thank you for your understanding 💐

[l0velylecter]

Hello there! I just wanted to tell you how much I appreciate your work and all the details you put in every single story! The latest one I had the delight to read was just the König one, and you have no idea how much I appreciate the details with the paintings. I'm a big fan of symbolism and such, and you managed to somehow choose some of my favourite art pieces! You always find a way to write beautifully, with real meaning behind your words and I feel lucky to be able to read them. Thank you so much for sharing what you do with us Readers, it truly makes my days seeing you post yet another piece <3

thank you so much lovely anon ! This is such a beautiful compliment, as a fellow art enthusiast this makes me so so happy. I'm the lucky one to be able to have such a platform to share my ideas in and to have amazing readers like you who are super supportive and thoughtful 💌 it makes my day to receive messages like this, love and kisses !

[l0velylecter]

Girl I just need to vent for a second I've been having such a stressful past few months and today I found that I've lost my wallet with ALL of my information and important cards 🥺

AW BABY 😭😭😭😭 Feel free to always rant to me, I can't do much except to remind you to block all of your cards and file in a police report ( which i'm sure you have ). If I'm not mistaken, the next step should be reporting to your local municipality or government body to assign you new identity cards/licence etc. I'm sorry to hear that the past few months haven't been so kind to you, and I might sound repetitive but hang in there ! The storm will pass and the sky will clear, it will be okay in the end, even if it doesn't seem like it. Keep your support system close and your courage closer, you got this anon ! All the best ! 💌

[l0velylecter]

GOODNESS ME !!!

old money - phillip graves au x fem!reader

description: you made him feel normal and worthy of being cared for. his title and his money, none of it mattered to you. it made him want to empty ever dollar in his bank account to see you smile. based off of this moodboard 

an: more parts to come, they can either be read as a series or read separately. requests are open!! (for this au or whatever else)

warnings: SMUT 18+ (not super descriptive), swearing, phillip is in his 20′s (recent college graduate)

Keep reading

[l0velylecter]

speechless…. my brain’s fried

Accidentally calling 141 boys by their code names while making love?

Hi! Thank you so much for your request! I really like this spicy idea hehe. (I was finished writing this and somehow deleted everything, so this is a rushed rewrite, apologies) NSFW Below! AFAB!Reader

Simon "Ghost" Riley

He tries to keep his military life very separate from you. You don't even often see him in the mask, but you remember the times you did and how flustered it made you.

Your mind manages to wander there when you're making love to Simon. You remember the darkness of his piercing gaze and the intensity of his presence.

He's taking you slow and hard. His cock sheaths against your cervix with each thrust and he nuzzles his face against your clavicle, murmuring gentle, loving words of praise.

You don't mean for it to happen, but somewhere in your cock-drunk haze, the fantasy bleeds through into your reality.

"Oh, Ghost," you moan.

He freezes momentarily. "Pardon?"

You briefly explain your fantasy, and he seems bemused.

"God, you filthy little thing. You want me to take you with my mask on? Fuckin' nutcase. You don't know what you've gotten yourself into, love."

Simon makes love, but you quickly find out that Ghost fucks.

John Price

John likes to have control of both his career and his sex life. He's definitely more of a tender lover, but he certainly has a dominant side that's more prevalent when you're being bratty.

He's grinding into you, deeply. He's trying to maintain eye contact with you since he loves the intimacy, but you keep tossing your gaze away shyly or throwing an arm over your face. It can get a little intense sometimes.

He'll grab your arms away, binding your wrists together in one large hand. "Going to need you to keep your eyes on me, love. Want to see you whilst I fuck you."

It's devious, and you can't contain the words before they spill out. You less than secretly love when he takes control. "Yes, Captain."

He flashes you an incredulous, yet slyly impressed grin. "I know that's right. Say it again, love. Who's cunt is this?"

"Yours, Captain."

John won't ever be able to hear you call him Captain in a casual or professional context ever again because it will instantly turn him on.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

You most commonly see Johnny in his civvie gear, dressed down and casually clothed.

He's an attractive man, but the first time you see him come home in his gear (since they were the only remaining clothes he had left) you're completely floored and it's safe to say you literally pounced on him the second he walked through the door.

You don't even make it to the bedroom. He's still half-clothed when he fucks you on the sofa. You're gripping his biceps for support as his dog tags dangle in your face, swaying with each intense thrust. The angle on the sofa is a little odd, and he's strained to keep going but he certainly tries his best to keep up, especially considering you're a moaning, writhing mess underneath him.

The name on the tag catches your eye, and you're so intoxicated by your arousal that you can't help but moan, "Oh, Soap, keep going!", and yank him closer by the silver chain.

He might short-circuit for a moment, but he'll fuck you with renewed vigour. Might even throw the dog-tag necklace around your neck.

"There ya go. You belong to Soap, ain't that right?"

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Kyle might seem like like he has a normal nickname turned codename, but it is absolutely unnatural for anybody outside of his professional life to call him Gaz.

You've teased him with the name before. It makes him cringe and he always dismisses you, so you save it in the arsenal to wind him up whenever you get the chance.

You don't, however, expect to be moaning "Gaz," into the pillow when he fucks you, mercilessly and skillfully. He reaches forward, grasping you around the swell of your throat, and yanks you upward so that your back presses to his chest.

"Best be careful with your words, love. Don't know what you're in for."

He may allow you to call him Gaz from now on.

"Sounds pretty when you moan it, love."

Get's a little hot and bothered when he's back on the field, constantly reminded by his codename of the sex you had. Price is bound to notice.

[l0velylecter]

PLEASE I’m begging you, on my knees, with tears down my face, to tag me in the graves fic when it comes out. PLEASE 😭😭🫶🏻🫶🏻

au’s ive wanted to write but instead made mood boards for

(yes I listened to lana while making these)

includes: graves, price, ghost and soap

phillip graves - old money au

think ivy league graduate

expected to become mayor like his father and grandfather (i def listened to national anthem while making this one)

shows off his wealth as a way to get your attention

he takes you on his yacht everyday in the summer (you live in your swimwear at that point)

dresses you in the finest clothes he can find

spoils you rotten. basically anything you desire is yours

you craved pizza once and he flew you to italy

everyone in his life can buy anything they desire, but none can have you.

he thinks about that a lot and shows you off like his finest prize

simon “ghost” riley - old western au

heavy red dead redemption inspo for this one

also cowboy-ghost inspo obviously

he’s a cold hearted vigilante, his face constantly covered by a bandana

you run into each other while hunting down the same man

he prefers to work alone, yet always runs into you on his adventures

you both discover that your ways of handling problems are very similar and it would be best to work together

he doesn’t ask you to work with him, you just start to follow him and he doesn’t tell you to stop

starts realizing how much he cares for you when you are nearly killed

lots of blood on his hands if someone dared to disrespect you

captain john price - royalty au

okay i’ve had two ideas for this one, first one is bodyguard!price

he’s a professional man, he would never think of falling in love with the princess he was hired to protect

but he didn’t account for how much time he truly has to spend with you

he listens to you speak day after day about all the hobbies you love

slowly falls in love with you as each day passes

he comforts you after the weight of becoming the future queen finally topples you over

in a sudden move you brings your lips to his

as badly as he needed to, he couldn’t pull you away

OR

assigned marriage au

he is the wealthy king that you are assigned to marry

you are both incredible leaders doing what is best for your country

it starts out as strictly an agreement but quickly becomes more personal

at first you assume your feelings come from his chivalry

you go nowhere without his hand grazing a part of your skin (your hand, the small of you back, etc)

it all changed the day someone got a little too close to you

“keep your hands from my wife or I will have them removed”

my wife…those words, while not untrue, felt different than they had in the past

he was no longer an associate in your business agreement, he was your husband-only yours

john “soap” mactavish - greek mythology

look at the way this beautiful man is built and try to tell me he doesn’t resemble a greek god

he’s powerful, generous, and perfectly sculpted. most of all, he was a romantic

he was addicted to you

the sun rose and set because of your very existence

he worshipped the ground you walked on

a trail of beautiful flowers following every step you made

you were his addiction, his forbidden fruit

he would kiss from the bottom of your feet to the top of your head each day when you awoke

he would clear the skies of clouds before the raindrop could fall within a mile near you

he’d bathe with you in the nearby lake, taking each moment to worship the beautiful curves of your body

god forbid if anything happened to you-the world would see nothing but fire

[l0velylecter]

let me talk to those pinkcore girlies bae 😤cause i promise that’s not what we stand for 😭🫶🏻🤞🏻

As much as I love pinkcore girlies god DAMN you bitches are so MEAN.

[l0velylecter]

shining like gun metal, cold and unsure — könig / f!reader

HE TOLD YOU IT FELT LIKE HIS HEART WAS COLLAPSING ON ITSELF. Followed by light-headedness and the need to sit down, König made it sound like you gave him a stroke. Stendhal syndrome, he calls it. A psychosomatic phenomenon where an object of great beauty overwhelms a person to the point of sickness. Shy and unconvinced, you drop your gaze. Seizing the rare moments when he has his hood up to the bridge of his nose, you trace your fingers across his cheeks, asking him if he really found you that beautiful.

“ Natürlich,” He whispered, breath hitching in his throat, “ You consume me, häschen.”

summary : war and art are best observed from a distance ; and yet König finds himself drawn to your beauty, as he is to all things dangerous. [ told through snippets + each scene inspired by a painting ] pairing : könig / f! reader fandom : call of duty modern warfare ii rating : m for mature and suggestive themes, minors don’t interact (mdni!), not safe for work (nsfw!) warnings : brief mentions of injuries tags : afab! reader, female parts, könig being absolutely down bad for you, references to art history / pieces, he doesn’t actually have this aesthetic sickness he’s just trying to rizz you, size difference, tender love making, he gives off the vibe as someone who’d get infatuated ( not in a toxic way tho lol ),  told in parts, small details about reader like wearing earrings mentioned, mild background for reader nothing complex.  word count : 1.3k note : font is normal sized under the cut ! song used for inspiration : art deco by lana del rey 

01| He couldn't pull his eyes away. In rapt attention, he observed the slight tilt of your head, the flutter of your eyelids, and the tremble of your bottom lip. Even when your cheeks were stained with soot and grime, sporting a small, thin cut that burned bright red, you still rendered him speechless. Tears were sliding down your chin. König was never good with people, never good with words. But when you were shivering next to him, frozen in shock — how could he not try? 

He dragged his thumb experimentally over your fingers, testing the waters. You lifted your head to meet his eyes for the first time, and König instinctively looked away, overwhelmed, intimidated. So he settled for cradling your hands, hoping it would ease the fear off your body.

And when your fingers curved around his, gentle like a scallop shell, smooth as a pearl, he let out a shaky sigh: a half gasp that sent you smiling. 

02| It was strange to finally have a face to accompany a name that has always been there: on every contract, every license, every delivery— your small and neat signature would end each sentence like a punctuation mark. An anonymous benefactress, hidden in plain sight. But now, you were speaking on the phone five meters from him, brows furrowed and shoulders slouched. He can sense the worry rolling off you in echoes, and even as he dragged the cloth over the nozzle of his sniper, he kept his gaze glued on you. The pearl earrings clipped against your ear, shining as you turned around. Your eyes glided over his, doing a double take. Curious. Caught in the act, König didn't bother hiding it. Your eyes trailed down the arch of his nose and the chapped skin of his lips, and he realised then that his hood was dangling across his nose. With half his face bared to you, his right hand instinctively flew to rub his stubble, nails scraping the dried gunpowder. The person on the other line called for your attention. Once. Twice. But you were too busy staring back, fingers unconsciously ghosting across your lips. That was his cue to duck his head and pack his gear, leaving you to continue your conversation.

03| König pulled you out of the water, hoisting you to the shore with one arm around your waist. In the background, his company scrambled to get water out of their lungs, some rushing past him to salvage whatever gear they had left. Yet the world fell on deaf ears to König, focused on how you were limp and draped over his chest, numb and cold. 

He pressed his lips against yours, administering two rescue breaths. And he repeated the motion, sealing your mouth over his to blow. When you remained limp, he undid your bulletproof vest, removing the already tattered and soaking shirt underneath to press an ear above your sternum: hoping, praying, for a heartbeat.

With an index finger beneath your ear, he continued with compressions, pace growing sloppy with each second.

Then you started to cough, gasping for air. A few seconds passed where all you could hear was the sea crashing in on itself: the bird, the wind, the rise and fall of his chest. Ignoring the taste of metal and salt on your tongue, you chose to gaze up at him.

It was as if someone had turned the lights on. The tides came to lift the curtains, sweeping away his mask to reveal his face. Drops of seawater from his hair trickled down your cheek. 

When the team found you, König had wrapped a dark, dry cloak over both your bodies to chase away from the cold. With his hand swung protectively across your shoulder, fingers tugging the fabric to cover your bare chest, you sink further into his half-embrace. Even when you were both kneeling, with his size, König covered you: his warmth already taming the goosebumps. The entire time he had his eyes on you, checking, guarding. Without his sniper hood, his pupils shined clearly, a reflection of the sea behind you. A gust of smoke flew overhead, whatever remained of your plane sinking into the waves. The flowers crept from the fields ahead, blooming in between your knees. 

04|The straight razor made a light clink as you lowered it next to the sink, and in the small space of the single-spaced bathroom, you leaned forward to reach for the towel behind his head — his forehead brushing against your ear. You ran your hand over his face, patting the wet cloth gently, checking if the water was warm. And underneath your fingertips, König bloomed: leaning against your touch and chasing after it when you retracted your arm. Outside the window, the clouds began to oppress the sun as it set over the horizon, casting dark, blue shadows over the two of you.

“ You look handsome,” You whispered, earning a small, bashful smile. Beneath your palm, you traced the scars that littered across König's face.

He raised his hand to dwarf yours. Even in this position, with him seated across you, he didn’t have to look up to reach your eye level.

“ And you’re beautiful.”

He told you it felt like his heart was collapsing on itself. Followed by light-headedness and the need to sit down, König made it sound like you gave him a stroke. Stendhal syndrome, he calls it. A psychosomatic phenomenon where an object of great beauty overwhelms a person to the point of sickness. Shy and unconvinced, you drop your gaze. Seizing the rare moments when he has his hood up to the bridge of his nose, you trace your fingers across his cheeks, asking him if he found you that beautiful.

“ Natürlich,” He whispered, breath hitching in his throat, “ You consume me, häschen.”

“ Consume you?”

“Ja. All of me.”

The words came out like a confession, a breath of devotion — reverent and akin to worship. And then, you were kissing him. Two comets stuck in orbit finally colliding, collapsing.

His mouth tasted like when the sky finally breaks to relieve the earth of the heat: cooling, soothing. The first rain in spring. His tongue was eager and heavy against your open mouth. König inhaled the little noises you made, answering in low, long groans, hands desperate against your waist as they pulled you flush against his bare chest. The rain outside growing louder by the minute.

05| Here in the dark, König was a painter, and you were his muse. His hands expertly glided over your over-sensitive bud — dragging his thumb like a brush over your slit. With concentration, he worked you open. Your internal muscles fluttered around him, the jolt of pleasure up your spine stealing your thoughts for a moment.

König continued exploring, working you, his mouth moving over the expense of your body as if it was his canvas: from your neck to your breasts to the inside of your arm, his tongue found pleasure points you didn't even know existed.

The sheets were cool. A delicious counterpoint to the heat. As you arched, legs on either side of his waist and ankles raised to his shoulder, König’s breath hitched as he pushed inside you. Slowly, gently, making you feel every stretch, every inch. 

And within this symbiotic relationship between art and artist, just as he breathes life into you, you inspire him back: dragging your fingertips down the expanse of his shoulder blades as they curl and stretch, leaving a few scrapes and scratches. Your mark. Your signature. 

It was almost comical how a man who screams of death managed to ease you back to life, winter meeting spring, the land dancing with the sea, the sun waiting for the moon: König's grip on you tightened as release washed over you. His lips kissing away the tears down your neck, his chest pressed against yours, heartbeats lulling into one. He followed soon, jerking inside you, mouth eager and wanton against yours. 

Schöne, he tells you.

Schöne.

a/n : this is mostly writing practice / a blurb which is why there’s soo many descriptions + i’ve been getting back into art history so i wanted to see how i can relate the two... i’ve always wanted to try out writing soft and intimate love-making scenes lol i hope i did well. enjoy könig lovers ! <3

information on the paintings 🖼 ( to better understand why i chose them ) :

01| the birth of venus by sandro botticelli it depicts the goddess venus arriving at the shore after her birth, when she had emerged from the sea fully-grown. plato further argued that contemplation of physical beauty allowed the mind to better understand spiritual beauty. so, looking at venus, the most beautiful of goddesses, might at first raise a physical response in viewers which then lifted their minds towards the godly

02| girl with a pearl earring by johannes vermeer some of the first literary treatments of the painting were in poems. for yann lovelock in his sestina, "vermeer’s head of a girl", it is the occasion for exploring the interplay between imagined beauty interpreted on canvas and living experience

03| the kiss by gustav klimt ( he’s austrian so könig probably knows his art well) gustav klimt depicts the couple locked in an intimate embrace against a gold, flat background. the two figures are situated at the edge of a patch of flowery meadow that ends under the woman's exposed feet. the man wears a robe printed with geometric patterns and subtle swirls. art historians have also suggested that klimt depicts the tale of orpheus and eurydice. more specifically, klimt seems to be showing the exact moment when orpheus turns around to caress eurydice and loses his love forever.

04| the kiss by edvard munch the outside world appears vibrant and lively, whereas the interior of the room is timeless, with the couple frozen in their embrace. in this motif, the couple's abstract form, in which the faces of the two appear to be merged as one, indicates their sense of belongingness and togetherness

05| death and the maiden by egon schiele  the painting was created when the painter, after marrying edith harms, was drafted into military service in the first world war. the presence of death, but also the connection between death and eros in several of his works from this period, is associated with this event.  in this painting, the woman clutching the shape of death as her lover, in a monk's robe, loses its horror. 

[l0velylecter]

Hi darling! I just wanted to let you know how enthralled I am with your writing. You have such a way of describing fluff, angst, etc. in a way that feels like I’m watching a movie in my head. Everything is so beautiful and raw and authentic I’m just— literally no words for how nicely and charming you write

Every time I read your work it’s like putting lovely rosey glasses on or being thrown into an aesthetic Pinterest board lmao

Like I’ve mentioned before, your writing style is literally “milk n honey” personified

Incredible

*mwah*

AWWWWW you're literally the sweetest ! Thank you ❤️ I genuinely want to screenshot this message, print it and tape it over my study table so I get to stare at it for motivation every day... genuine, heartfelt, compliments like these always make me smile. Thank you for taking the time to tell me this, creating a dreamy & poetic atmosphere has always been my goal, I'm glad to read that it's working 💋( and fr aesthetic pinterest boards really keep me going ! ) love love love you sm for this, hope both sides of your pillow are crisp and cold, enjoy your day 💌

[l0velylecter]

Thank you for writing from a girly/feminine perspective! A lot of popular writing styles nowadays stick to the very tomboy-ish and gruff "not like other girls" perspective and I have trouble relating to that. I hope I'm not offending anyone with this ask but it's nice to find a writer, especially in the COD fandom, who doesn't perceive femininity and gentleness as a weakness.

Hi, darling anon! 

Thank you for this sweet message. Before I continue, I just want to clarify that :

There's nothing wrong with tomboy-ish and gruff girls, but you are right: there is something wrong the moment their authors use them to bring other women down for being the opposite.

Whatever I will say next is just my opinion, nothing is fact-checked, so feel free to disagree if you do 

I noticed that a lot of times, things get lost in translation very easily when writing about women. And in this block of text, when I say women, I also refer to non-cis women. Often modern media have, unfortunately, conditioned us into thinking that women are inherently weak, so we tend to either accidentally (or with purpose) make women 'different from other girls / unlike other girls.' to have people take them seriously.

But the real question here is: What's wrong with other girls?

There are many ways to uplift women other than bringing each other down. Of course, girly girls can co-exist with adjectives like smart, badass, powerful, strong, and independent. 

And honestly, as a girly girl, I am quite tired of girly-girl erasure. And I am tired of girly girls being portrayed as only two-dimensional characters with no worth or substance to the story. Always the punchline to an overused and unfunny joke. 

And even if these headcanons and imagines are all so well written, as lovely as it is to see kick-ass readers/characters who can let's say: physically fight, use a gun, and are part of the military, as a girl who can't even lift her suitcase I find myself unable to relate to these pieces. One might say: ' But it's just fantasy, it's supposed to be unrealistic.' 

I agree, however, I want my fantasies to also cater to my perception of reality if you get what I mean — my preferences and style. Maybe it's easier for me to see myself as a benefactress to a private military unit than a soldier. This is why I prefer to write about readers as civilians, non-active duty personnel, people in non-military professions, etc. because I can picture it better. And as a writer, my skill of writing can also improve and expand, sooner or later I won't be that restricted in writing and can write about all sorts of readers in all sorts of scenarios. Because I know I cannot put women into boxes, certainly not one that excludes people from enjoying a fandom: which in this case is call of duty.

By the end of the day, my wish is to see more inclusivity in writing about women/female characters! women are allowed to be traditionally feminine, women are allowed to be kick-ass, women are allowed to be smart, women are allowed to be brave, women are allowed to be strong, and women are all allowed to be all of the above at once! 

If you don't agree with how an author writes their reader, it's not difficult to scroll and find something more to your taste. I have received a few messages in my inbox complaining about how I am writing unrealistic reader povs, I never reply to these because by the end of the day: this is all fantasy. And I'm sorry, but to quote one of these messages: maybe it is difficult for certain anons to see themselves as an 'it girl'...but not me though ( stay safe💋) 

In conclusion : women of all backgrounds and settings are not weak, and women shouldn't be restricted to just a 'trope' or a label. there is strength in being gentle and there is courage in being kind. 

Again, please correct me if I use any wrong terminologies, and these are all just my opinions. Thanks for this wonderful compliment anon, you gave me a chance to speak out about what I've held in my heart for a long time. You made my week <3 

smooches x

[l0velylecter]

Hi darling! You've mentioned you're in university a few times so I thought I'd ask, if it's not too evading, if you have any tips on studying and handling the workload? I'm going back to school, which is something I never thought I would do, after one failed term years back and I'm a little nervous of messing everything up again.

hi dear ! thank you for this sweet ask, i'm honoured to hear that you trust me enough for advice, its super sweet hahaha 🙈

first and foremost, i just want to congratulate you first! you've worked so hard to get up to this point, and the most important part is getting back on your feet despite everything. you're amazing 💖

second, one of the first things i usually do is determine what kind of learner i am. there are four common types of learners: Visual learners, Auditory learners, Kinesthetic learners, Reading/writing learners. When my parents signed me up for an aptitude test, which was super helpful, they discovered that i am a reading/writing learner ! ( clinical aptitude test aside, you can also find out through the ones online or you can consult with friends / family/ etc. ) 📝

Which leads me to my third step, which is determining a study period + method. I always attend class, and even if I miss it because I'm sick or have an appointment with the bank, I always ask someone to help jot down notes to me, and I get it done in the same day. This is so the workload won't pile up, because my motto is that : if I let it slide once, I'm gonna let it slide twice, thrice and more ! So consistency and discipline are super helpful, especially for my study method, since I revise by writing/reading, so it takes a lot of effort and time for me to absorb the knowlege. I need to make notes, flashcards, and even study with a friend so we can practice outloud together ( this is super helpful because morale support too ! ) 📖

Some people do better studying under pressure or within a shorter time frame, and some people do better studying when they're relaxed and not when they're cramming. It all differs, which is why getting to know yourself is the best bit. I know for sure, I study better when I can revise little by little, but consistently every day, so usually I study months in advance for an exam. I've been studying for my upcoming exam for two months now ! It's exhausting but I know it'll be worth it 📚

Last but not least, setting goals. My goal personally is not to achieve a certain grade or a certain threshold, but it's to try my best and see the result. Whatever happens, happens, and I have faith in myself that my results will be a reflection of my hardwork ! And if it doesn't work out, perhaps it's not my path or not for me, but that doesn't mean I can't try other things and find other ways. When one door closes, another opens for all of us. I'm sure of it ! And goals also differ for other people, but goals are vital to keep us going, so find your core and remember :

enjoy going back to school ! it's about enjoying yourself 💞

for example, if everything goes well, I'll graduate my bachelors next year, and take my masters after. it's a daunting journey, and plans can change, but whatever happens, i'm glad i'm in it for the ride ! 🎢

if you genuinely enjoy what you do, then even when you have to make sacrifices and suffer a little bit, it'll be worth it in the end 💌

oh and remember to rest, take breaks, and put yourself first when needed ! 🛀🏻 best of luck, i believe in you sweet anon ! ❤️

[l0velylecter]

3k notes... omg thank you, i love you all 🥺

HI IM LITERALLY OBSESSED WITH YOUR WRITING

Anyways- could I possibly request headcannons of how ghost, soap, alejandro and köng would react to someone like a random dude getting aggressive (physically or verbally is your choice) with their partner bc I love my protective boys ☆☆

Love you and your writing remember to stay healthy and take care of yourself!!!

— the cod : mw men + being protective !characters : simon ‘ghost’ riley, john ‘soap’ mactavish, alejandro vargas, königfandom : call of duty modern warfare iitags : gn!reader, headcanons, drabblerating : t for teen and up audiences , minor descriptions of violence, sfw!

Keep reading

[l0velylecter]

announcement and life update <3

hey besties ! i know i should really get back into writing requests but i’ve been bombarded with so many og ideas lately : i’ve got a könig fic lined up and i’m already thinking of squeezing another ghost angst too !! 😭 super sorry and thank you for waiting to those who sent in requests before they were closed, i appreciate your patience ! 🙏🏻 once the writer block comes off, i’ll get back on them 💖 but for now.... so far, my 2023 looks like this : 

university has been kicking my ass

exams are only a month away and I am terrified !

also... three days into the new year and i’m already consumed by drama 😪 it’s exhausting... i need to be compensated with a certain southern shadow company ceo on my bed !

just watched annihilation two days ago and i absolutely LOVED it !

started listening to this playlist to calm myself down whenever i’m overwhelmed

spilled my starbucks drink in front of everyone 💀 but the barista was super sweet, she gave me a new one on the house

helped a friend through a terrible heartbreak 

getting complimented about how i’ve improved tremendously on my writing... tearing up rn, ily all of you 

anyways, i hope you’re all doing good, how is your 2023 so far loves ? <3 

[l0velylecter]

you're not my homeland anymore (so what am I defending now?) — phillip graves x afab!reader

THERE'S SOMETHING INTIMATE IN THE WAY HE POISONS YOU: even with his hand around your throat, fingers slowly constricting, you can't seem to fight him. A snake trying to subdue its victims, Phillip dragged his thumb lazily across the column of your neck to check your pulse — eyes flickering to the rise and fall of your chest. He was ready to devour you, sneering because he knew you'd let him.

summary : After his betrayal in Las Almas, as Shadow Company’s Quartermaster, you were left behind to clean up after Grave’s mess. It’s not easy to pick up the pieces of the life he shattered, but it’s even harder to heal when he keeps coming back to undo the stitches. pairing : phillip graves / afab!reader fandom : call of duty modern warfare ii rating : e for explicit, minors don’t interact (mdni!), not safe for work (nsfw!) warnings : descriptions of violence, cursing, descriptions of sex tags : afab!reader, female parts, some plot, somewhat toxic/unhealthy relationship, manipulation, mild backstory for reader, choking, he’s a red flag but red is my favorite color, reader has a ‘i can fix him’ mentality so read at your own discretion, rough sex, angry sex, edging. word count : 2k note : font is normal sized under the cut ! song used for inspiration : exile, taylor swift

01| Twenty minutes is the fastest recorded time of death caused by snake venom, not a second less, not a second later. And twenty minutes is all it took for Phillip to betray you. Your hands were trembling around the monitor while he aimed his rifle at Soap. Knocking a stack of papers in the process, your fingers flew across the keyboard to call for help — Laswell, Price, Garrick, anybody: you were desperate, choking in your guilt as a bullet struck the sergeant. With tears streaming down your face, you screamed into the comms, begging for him to cease fire. The analog clock beeped. Eleven minutes. Then without warning, the noise disappeared, leaving you to listen to the harsh rain against the pavement.

You slumped against your seat.

" Phillip...what have you done?"

Fifteen minutes. After a few seconds, his voice emerged, distant and faraway, distorted by the static.

" It's nothing personal, baby. It's just business." He chuckled. Your face crumbled at the airiness of his tone, bile rising in the back of your mouth as you imagined the smell of blood.

Seventeen minutes.

"I'll see you soon."

The silence that followed was almost deafening, echoing throughout the room. Phillip cut off all communications: ripping the camera from his chest before crushing it under his heel. The sharp ring of the mic's feedback made you rip your receiver out. Nineteen minutes. You caught your reflection against the monitor's dark screen. Even with the blood tricking down your earlobe, you couldn't move.

When they brought you in for questioning, they found you doubled over the table: earpiece dangling weakly from your palm. They needed to take note of the time. They said it was protocol. Twenty Minutes. You tell them as they cuff your wrists. Not a second less, not a second later.

02| The court proceedings ended in autumn. It took months before all charges were dropped: compliance, conspiracy, tampering of evidence — just like that, 'treason' was no longer in your record. One final act of mercy they gave you before cutting you loose, knowing that it was easier to sweep their fuck up under the rug this way. You rewind the tape from your interrogations, closing the blinds shut.

" And what was your affiliation with Phillip Graves?"

Crossing your legs on the couch, you pulled the laptop closer. The audio was muffled, bleeding static: a consequence of the metal walls which surrounded the scene that unfolded.

" I worked for Shadow Company.” You replied in the footage, “ I was his quartermaster."

Your interrogators shared a look. His. Not theirs. The needle of the polygraph jerked sideways. Suspicious. Compliant. You cleared your throat, opening your mouth to rephrase.

" I worked in logistics. Mortuary Affairs, subsistences. I distribute materials and brief them on satellite-based imagines. I knew nothing about the missiles or conspiring with Shepherd."

" How could that be?" The man on the right crossed his legs, arms folded around his chest.

Ink continued to glide across the graph paper.

" Evidence showed that you were...intimate with the commander."

Feeling scrutinised, you scoffed. 

" What does that have to do with anything?"

" It has to do with everything. Surely, you understand how it makes it difficult for us to believe you were completely in the dark when you and Graves were so...close. Do you deny it?"

Blinking in disbelief, you slumped against your chair. For a brief second, you felt it. All of it. The weight of his arms around your waist. His fingers down your back. You thought of the moon and how his eyes melt into silver under its light. You hear his laugh when you fail to flip the egg against the pan. The scars littered down his spine as he lays next to you. Patchouli and sandalwood crowd the bathroom as you smear your fingers with his aftershave. The gunshots as they cut through the downpour.

The graph wavered. " Do you deny it?" They repeated.

You inhaled deeply, wiping your face with your palm. 

 " No. I don't."

The curves on the paper thinned into a vertical line. The men scribbled into their notebooks, gesturing to the cup of coffee they had given you. You tell them it's gone cold and stale. And under the yellow lamplight, the officer on the right stared at you almost apologetically — noticing how you’ve been staring at the printed picture of Graves strewn across the table.

“ And whose fault is that?”

That night you deleted all the files on your laptop before unplugging the USB, contemplating whether to flush gigabytes worth of confidential information: videos, pictures, documents down the toilet.

You ended up leaving it above the bedside table.

03| You used to like how warm Phillip's hands were. The weight of each finger pressed against your palm will usually shut you up from complaining about the cold. You've memorized every inch of his skin, the roughness and weight, too familiar to miss. Which is why you didn't need to raise your head to know it was him standing behind you: hand across your mouth. 

" It's been a while."

He maneuvered you against the hallway, slamming you with his arm across your waist. When you struggled, he only tightened his grip, lips ghosting against the junction of your jaw and neck. Shhh, he cooed, and you obeyed.

You hated yourself for complying. Noticing this, he let out a small chuckle — lowering the palm across your face down your chin to tilt your head upward, ignoring the small thud your skull made with the hard surface. 

" Did you miss me?"

You searched his eyes: cobalt blue, ocean-strong. They shined under the half-light pouring through the window.

Recoiling at his voice, your words were barely above a whisper, " How could you? You fucking snake."

He skimmed your cheek with his thumb. Once. Twice — Smiling at you as if you were having a regular conversation.

" We all need to shed our skin, baby. It's part of the food chain."

There's something intimate in the way he poisons you: even with his hand around your throat, fingers slowly constricting, you can't seem to fight him. A serpent trying to subdue its victims, Phillip dragged his thumb lazily across the column of your neck to check your pulse — eyes flickering to the rise and fall of your chest. He was ready to devour you, sneering because he knew you'd let him.

" You used me, Phillip. And you want to justify that by calling me weak? " You gave him a rough push, struggling against his grip. " I trusted you." "And whose fault was that?" Your breath hitched, heart heavy against the pit of your stomach. “ So was it all a lie then ?” His expression faltered. “ Not all of it.” “ Bullshit,” You spat, “ If you really did care then why didn’t you take me with you ? And what are you doing in my house ? What do you want ?” He laughed, teeth bared and head thrown back as if you’d just tell him a funny joke, before taking your mouth in a hard, biting kiss.

You startled, hands automatically flying to grip his tactical vest to kiss him back. Ashamed at how the response was almost automatic, you tried to break away.

“ I left you?” He fumed, “You think I abandoned you ?”

Phillip pulled you against his chest, breath ghosting against your lashes, “ Last time I checked, you were the one who got too fucking comfortable with one-four-one. Weren’t you the one who wanted to transfer units ?” 

You reeled at his aggressiveness, letting his tongue push into your mouth : hands tight around your body.  “ That letter to HQ was supposed to be confidential.” You reasoned, pulling away for air, “ And I wanted us, you and me, to transfer. Shepherd’s using you ! He’s going to sink your company and you’re going down with it !” He slammed a fist against the wall right above your head, the loud noise rolling down the empty space. Phillip growled, leaning down for your mouth. His hand hoisted your face up, teeth tugging at your bottom lip : forceful, all-consuming.  “ You’re a hypocrite, you know that? Spewing all this righteous horseshit when your hands are just as red as mine.”  “ What do you want, Phillip?” You sobbed, eyes screwed shut to stop the tears squeezing their way out. Your cry was silent, almost soundless. 

He loosened his hold, boots squeaking against the floor as he took a few steps back. You could have used this opportunity to make a run for it. To escape, to leave. Phillip was giving you a choice. Always, he gives you a chance to leave. But you never do. Instead, you submit yourself to this want, this need.

His hands were warm and familiar, running down your body, scooping you up, carrying you toward the bedroom.

His hands set you on fire, and you'd let him burn you.

04| The heat was blanketing your back, licking up your spine, sucking on your earlobe. His cock, driving in and out of you. Phillip pulled your hips up a little higher, and the change in angle dialed it up even more. White spots flaring in your vision —

“ It’s too much,” You sighed, and it sounded suspiciously like a sob, muffled by the pillow underneath. 

Your knees were trembling, struggling to support you. And you would have collapsed if he didn’t hoist you up against his hips. His pace was ruthless, hungry. 

And when your arms buckled as you relinquished control, boneless and submerged under the shudder of lightning-hot fire sweeping through you, body strung tight and just on the edge, Phillip suddenly stilled.

You tightened around him, begging him to move.

“ Please,” You whined, “ Phillip, please.” You can sense him watching you claw the blankets underneath, the cold surface of the fabric relieving you of your fever. You tried to wiggle yourself against him, but he had a vice grip on your hips to restrain you. The stillness was almost as painful as the lack of friction.

Without warning, he turned and lifted you to sit astride him, hands holding you against his chest to guide you down onto his cock. You nearly screamed as he set up a new rhythm, fucking you deep, making you take all of him. You clenched around him each time he pulled you up to drop you back down, feeling so full. Past your lips was a high, helpless noise as liquid, molten heat spread inside you, shaking every muscle. When you tried to hide it by biting into his shoulder, Phillip roughly pried you away: hands gripping your chin to look at him in the eyes.

“Look at me,” He commanded, anchoring you.

Your nails left trails of red, crescent moon against his back, orgasm within reach again. You were whispering into his neck, babbling nonsense as everything goes tense and bright — and suddenly you were hit with the feel of your breast against his ribs, the cologne you got him for his birthday mingling with the smell of sweat and sex, his heartbeat racing against yours.

Phillip groaned, voice husky and low as he cursed, hips stuttering to come inside you with desperate, shuddering pulses. 

And when you tip to the side and he guides you under the blankets, hands slack around your waist, you asked him again if it was all a lie. You were being lulled to sleep by the exhaustion when you feel a weight against your mouth, a phantom kiss, ghosting against your lips.

05 | Maybe you dreamt it. Maybe you didn’t. 

But the next morning, the space beside you was empty. Left with nothing but the imprint of his body against the sheets, your arms and legs ached in protest, as a slow, dull ache took root inside your chest. 

The USB by the table side was nowhere to be found. 

a/n : first fic after two days, and first fic of 2023 ! What a way to start the year : angsty, angry sex with phillip graves 🤭 i made him so toxic here but dw i know deep down he’s not always like this ( maybe i’m the silly little reader with the ‘ i can fix him’ mindset ) i hope you all enjoy this ! <3 

for graves fuckers : @cowboybxtch , @nfr89s​ , @kenobisjedi​ & more ! 🥴🥂