Loid Forger X Reader Novels & Stories

My library professor whose deep commanding voice made my thighs clench during lectures. The man I’d fantasized about bending me over these very tables and fucking me senseless until I can’t remember my name. I opened the book, and the dedication page read: For those who crave quiet darkness.” My breath hitched. I flipped to the next page and started reading. “She knelt before him in the silence of stacks, skirts pushed high, panties already soaked. “Read it out,” He ordered. “Every filthy word, while I taste how wet you’ve become for me.”

A bunny small. A gift so soft, it healed it all. “Do you like it?” Worry grew— “Like it?” I laughed, “I love it too.” His face lit up, the world felt right— A fleeting warmth, a fragile light. A scoff cut through—so sharp, so dry— Xavier’s voice, a bitter cry. “If this display is finally done, Can we eat? I’m starving, honestly.” The moment cracked. The warmth grew thin. The cold returned from deep within.

points or penalties. The burners were different. No tracking. No backdoors. No algorithm deciding who you could talk to or how often. Just freedom. A quiet fuck-you to the system that had turned human-vampire relations into a gamified spectacle since the Accords. He glanced sideways. Liora was two seats over—hoodie loose, sketchbook open, charcoal moving in slow strokes across the page. She didn’t look at him. Didn’t smile. Didn’t brush his shoulder. Just drew.

I do not recognize myself. "Is this what I look like to them?" I whisper. I look like a liar, a manipulator, and a stranger who walked into someone’s life and twisted it for gain. The words echo in my head louder and crueler. This is because a small and terrible part of me is afraid. I am afraid that he might believe it. Leander does not remember, and he does not know. I wonder if this will make him doubt. My bond mark burns in a way that is sharp and painful. It is as if it is reacting to the thought itself.

Half-done and his love is still in its careful cuts. Wrapped around the little bird, pulsing with faint green light, was the Scourge seed. It fed on a father’s lost love for months. The sight sickened Liora. This ritual was faster, harder, because of grief. Liora used no memory of her own. She poured the memory of Alistair’s pure love for his child into the seed, drowning its hunger. The green light fought, but the journal flared brightly, the silver scar glowing. Then the seed left the carving and vanished into the journal’s pages.

Five Years Ago – My Apartment, After Midnight He was soaked when he showed up rain dripping off his dark hair, coat clinging to his frame like the storm had followed him from hell. “Jesus, Rafe…what happened?” “I need to show you something.” He dumped the file onto my kitchen table. Dozens of photos. Transaction records. Names I knew names I trusted. Rowen. Silva. DA Monroe. “You’re lying,” I said, my throat tightening. “These are fakes. Fabricated.” “I stole them from my father’s vault an hour ago,” he said, voice raw. “You think I’d risk coming here unless it was real?” I sank into a chair.

Sleep transforms her into something almost innocent. I watch Aleta’s chest rise and fall in steady rhythm while my conscience wages war against five years of carefully cultivated hatred. Her face, relaxed in unconsciousness, bears no trace of the Ricci arrogance that has poisoned my dreams. Building lies requires more creativity than I anticipated. My laptop screen nearly blinds me in the darkness as I fabricate digital evidence of our supposed marriage—doctored photographs, fake certificates, invented memories that blend truth with fiction. Each keystroke should feel like victory, yet guilt creeps in.

I hissed, my eyes darting to the family portrait on the wall. I moved to the safe. I needed to do more than just take the data. I needed to leave him blind. I reached into the hidden compartment of my robe and pulled out the “Dummy Ledger”—a physical replica of the weathered leather book I had found earlier. Sophie and a team of forensic forgers had worked forty-eight hours straight to create it.

Nicknames: Hollows, T Age: 26 Birthday: October 23 Zodiac sign: Scorpio Nationality: American Race: Originally human Hair color: Dark brown Hair style: Medium length middle part Eye color: Emerald green Birthmarks: N/A Scars: Scattered across his body Height: 6’2 Weight: 152 Skin color: Tan Sexuality: Straight and polyamorous Relationship status: complex Beauty marks: rose sleeve tattoo Jewelry : protection bracelet made by a witch Personality: Mysterious, dangerous, flirty, charming, mean Style: edgy cowboy Outfit: Medium wash blue jeans, black band t-shirt, black belt, boots, leather jacket Love interest: Iris Friends: N/A Prologue This story is about love. Not the lovey dovey type you see

CONTENT: Big cock, passionate sucking, pussy rubbing, jerking off. CHAPTER 1 Sophia, an exhibitionist, enjoyed showing off her body, and this gave her so much excitement. This lifestyle had earned her lots of admirers. Her husband also liked the idea and encouraged her to do whatever her admirers asked her to do. It excited him to see her being led by vicious dominators. Sophia especially liked to submit to Derick, a guy she met on a dating/flirting website.