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kakujis · 1 year

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do you love me? 3;

synopsis: they wake you up at 3am and ask if you love them. 1 + 2 + 4

ft: hanma, ran, and rindou.

warnings: gn!reader, insecurities, clingy bfs, jealous!rindou, swearing, mentions of drinking, not proofread, reader is a lil mean in hanma's ): and thaat should be it!

a/n: is it me or are these getting longer?! anyways, here's part 3! the last one will be mitsuya, draken, and chifuyu! i’m running out of steam thinkin’ of scenarios uh oh. anyway, writing ran's bit was so much fun, since i feel like he's a goofy loverboy. i kind of struggled w rindou’s but i hope it still falls together nicely! ALSO WHY IS HIS SO LONG WTF and here's a special lil tag for @fuyuluvr ♡

the city is quiet as the hum of a motorcycle comes to a stop. hanma’s not sure how he ended up here, well actually he is, subconsciously driving straight to the one place that always riles him up, setting his veins on fire faster than the rush of a zipline.

he hums to himself, taking off his helmet, and nudging down his kick stand. he looks upwards, toward your bedroom window, his heart already starting to flutter in his chest. stuffing his hands into his jacket, he walks up, getting ready to scale up towards your window. he glances around, although no one’s around in this dead of night, he would rather not have anyone calling the cops on him.

they’re probably asleep, he thinks, as he peers back up, nails digging into the stone as he uses his leg to boost himself up. he hoists himself until he’s up to the sil, laughing a little to himself when he notices you left it open like you were expecting him.

he tumbles in, knocking over your lamp in the process. “oops.” he says. meanwhile, the crash has you bolting awake, screaming, no, screeching as you grab your alarm clock, holding it up, ready to throw or swing.

he throws his hands up defensively as he approaches, “it’s me!” and in your sleep deprived state you scramble back, the grip on your device tightening.

hanma barks out a laugh, before he switches on your bedside lamp. “hi baby. ♡” he chirps, seeing your shoulders slump as you settle, a particularly loud sigh escaping you as you place one hand over your chest. he kicks his shoes off as he jumps onto your bed, diving straight into your comforter, laying on his stomach.

“you scared the shit out of me!” you yell, “besides, what time is it?” you look at the device in your hand before you realize it’s off, ripped straight out the socket. frowning, you toss it onto the floor, before crossing your arms and facing him.

“you were really gonna fuck me up, huh?” he muses, honey eyes twinkling at the idea of you actually swinging on him. he would’ve dodged of course, but it would’ve given him an excuse to grab you and have you underneath him.

you sigh again, “shuji, i don’t have time for this. i’ve got a work meeting tomorrow morning.” you grab your blankets, shimmying underneath them and pulling them up, “we can hang out this weekend or something,” you yawn.

“eh?” is all you hear as you turn over, shutting your eyes in hopes of getting some sleep. maybe he’d fall asleep with you or maybe he’d leave, but the only thing that’s really on your mind is this stupid meeting. just a few more days until the weekend, has been your new mantra, if you can just tough it out, you’ll be golden.

it’s quiet for a few minutes, but the dip in your bed is still there and soon enough he’s asking, “do you love me?”

“no, shuji, of course i don’t…” you start, sarcasm tinting your voice as you roll back over, but you stop when you see his defeated expression. it’s different from the shuji you know, his solemn eyes studying you, as he nervously plays with your sheets in one hand.

hanma shuji has been so damn bored. it’s been like this ever since you got a job, constant “i can’t”s, and “maybe next time, shu.” he wants so badly to go on late night rides with you again, the sound of your laughter ripping over the roar of his motorcycle.

he wants to stay up with you until sunrise, at the top of your favorite hill, hands intertwined and shoulders brushing. he wants to snap pictures of you at the top of this hill, thinking you're prettier than any sunrise. you make him feel like he’s invincible and that everything’s okay.

shuji has been so bored, but more so than that, he’s been lonely, unsteady. he misses you so fucking much, nothing’s as fun without you, everything’s dull like the world’s covered in sepia.

“c’mere,” you say, opening your arms and he crawls forward, collapsing into you. “i love you, shuji, i do.. and i’m sorry.”

you realize now how distant you’ve been. unbeknownst to the two of you, just how stressful a new job could be, you were just trying to jumble a new set schedule but you had been snappier, neglectful, and even downright mean at times.

shuji tried his best to accomodate you, going off on night rides by himself, always saying, “it’s alright.” when you’d turn him down again. he tried to busy himself more with his friends, but his mind always wandered to what you’d be doing - did you miss him too? - checking his texts every now and then in hopes there’d be a new message.

“shuji?” you whisper when he doesn’t respond and you think he has every right to be upset with you. but instead he says, “yeah?” his face suddenly dangerously close to yours, the tip of his nose lingers by yours and your face heats up at the proximity.

“um,” you stutter and soon there’s a smirk dancing on his face, “d-did you hear me?”

“i heard you. loud and clear, ♡” he says, lips ghosting over yours, “i was just replayin’ it in my head.”

shuji always has you melting and tonight is no different, so you close your eyes and let him kiss you. deep, sweet, and full of all the things the two of you don’t know how to say. you pout when he pulls away and he grins, “so cute.”

an idea strikes you then as you gaze at the love of your life. “hey… wanna go for a ride?” besides, what's the harm in losing a little sleep?

the way he perks up has you giggling, you’re sure if he had a tail it’d be wagging a mile a minute. he’s practically beaming, as he starts to pull you up and off the bed. he stops for a second, head tilted and finger on his chin, “wait, don’t you have a meeting at in a couple hours?”

you nod, “yeah, so bring me home by 5?” you smile at him as you reach for a jacket.

“i can do that.”

ran:

for the first time in his life, ran haitani cannot fall asleep. he lays there, one arm resting above his head, the only noise being the sound of your soft snores as his mind continues to wander. he thinks about the dinner you two had earlier. it was dumb, the entire situation, your friends were clearly too drunk to be saying reasonable things. ran knew this, he’s been the same way countless times before.

but when she hiccuped, arm slung around you, “maann, can’t believe you ended up with ran! you used to only talk about rindou in high school ehe.” ran felt his stomach drop.

you froze at that, quickly glancing at ran whose face was otherwise unreadable. she continued, incessantly giggling, “seriously seriously! everyday was ‘man rindou looked sooo cu’-“

“thats enough!” you had said, placing a palm over her mouth to muffle her. “lets get you home, okay?” desperately glancing at the rest of your friends, who took the hint and helped her out of there.

ran remembered how after everyone left, you had tried to talk to him, “listen..” your hand reaching towards his.

but for some reason, he had stopped you. “it’s fine, people say dumb shit when they’re drunk,” he mused, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “don’t worry about it.”

and maybe the reason was that he was scared, scared to hear you admit that yeah, you did like his brother. and when that didn’t work out, you settled on him.

he shakes his head, getting up from the bed and padding over to the bathroom. turning the faucet, he douses cold water on his face. don’t be stupid, ran.

when he walks out, he stops when he sees you sitting up, sleepily rubbing your eyes. “ran?” you mumble, “are you okay?”

he settles back into an easy grin, walking over and climbing back in. “yeah, i’m alright.”

“liar.”

he blinks. “what’d you just say?”

“i said, you’re a liar.” you huff, placing your hands on his cheeks, swiveling his head towards yours. “you’re upset.”

“and why do you think that?” he says, but there’s a red tint dusting on his cheeks, and his eyes flicker from you to various objects around the room.

“first of all, you’re awake,” you emphasize, “when is ran ‘if i don't get enough sleep i’ll kill you and your family’ haitani awake at 3am? hm?” you dart your head every time he tries to look away trying to stay in his vision.

he sighs, “okay, you got me.” he stills, looking at you with a crease in his brow. “do you love me? and.. was what your friend said right? that you used to like my brother?”

you soften at his question, “of course i do. i love you and only you. let me explain?”

he nods and you drop your hands, opting to intertwine them with his. sighing, you begin, “okay so, in high school there was this… friend- okay no i hated that bitch-“

you give ran a look as he whistles, caught off guard by your vitriol, as he motions you to continue on with a little grin, “don’t mind me.”

“there was this acquaintance,” you continue and ran nods, “and every single guy i was into she would try to take them from me, so i pretended to like rindou because.. i was scared.. she would actually get together with you.”

its your turn to burn with embarrassment, looking down at your interlocked hands as you reveal the secret you kept for so long. you glance up at ran and groan out a “what?!” when you notice his shit-eating grin.

“i’m really a catch, eh?” he teases and you scrunch your nose. “don’t make that face,” he points, “you’re the one who tried to gatekeep me.”

“ugh fine,” you pout, your face on fire, “this is so embarrassing… ah!” ran pulls you down, hugging you tightly. “ran?”

“man, i feel like a million bucks! who would’ve thought the person i’d been chasin’ all throughout highschool felt the same way. i should’ve asked you out sooner.” he pinches your cheek, cooing, “my baby.”

you can’t even focus on the fact that he casually mentioned the two of you were mutual crushing for so long. if you could die from embarrassment you would. on the flipside, if ran could die from love, he would. he’s never admitted it before, but he’s always felt a little insecure, so he hides it behind a mask that only you get to uncover.

“did i ever meet her?” he asks, face to face with you. he can’t stop smiling, instead continuing to poke your cheek as you pout.

“hmm, maybe. i dunno, i tried to avoid her a lot of the time.” you answer, “why?”

“cause if i did, you wouldn’t even have to worry about it.” he says, running the pad of his thumb over your cheek. “i’ve only had eyes for you after all.”

was he always this cheesy? seriously, you might die. “i’m gonna die,” you profess, your face and body on fire, moving your hands up to hide your expression behind them. “if you continue, i’ll seriously die.”

“dying in my arms is super romantic though.” he muses, “i bet it’d be a dream come true for you.”

“shut up!” you groan, burying your face into the pillow.

“babe, seriously, it’s a dream of mine. romeo and juliet, who?”

“ran haitani, shut up!”

rindou:

rindou haitani was seething. on the outside, he had it all. a club that he owned with his brother, able to play his music to an excited crowd, and to top it all off, a loving partner who did their best to support him. but on the inside, he was someone who hid from his emotions, snuffing them out before they had their chance to reach the surface and maybe that’s why, in rare moments, when he couldn’t snuff them out he waited until you fell asleep to think about them.

maybe it was his fault for inviting you out, but it’s always been a dream of his to watch you dance to his music. at first you refused, something about how crowds aren’t really your thing. but he persisted, noting how you always dance for him when he plays his music so why not do it at his club?

“besides, you always get along with everyone you meet, just try it.” he insisted, beaming when you said “okay, just this once.”

he wasn’t usually jealous, something he prided himself on, that you could hang out with whoever you wanted whenever you wanted and he’d have no issue. but tonight things were different. you looked amazing under the neon, pulsing lights, feeling the beat down to your bones as you swayed and moved on the dance floor.

ran was supposed to stay close to you, but the two of you got separated by the mass of bodies. from his view up top though, rindou could see you clearly, and when someone came up to you to dance, he was sure you would deny them. but perhaps it was the slight buzz of alcohol running through your veins or maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through you that caused you to say yes.

you didn’t grind on them, thankfully, but still, the way you laughed and cheered, eyes fully on them was like a kick to rindou’s gut. at one point, they leaned in to say something to you and rindou almost stopped his set, wanting to take you home immediately. but instead, he grit his teeth and kept playing.

he didn’t have the heart to tell you anything on the way home either, the way you excitedly bounced up and down detailing to him about how much fun you had and how you’d love to go again. he shut those emotions down again, instead laying a hand over yours, smiling and saying, “i’m glad you had fun, love.”

but now as he lay there in your shared bed, one arm around you as you slept on his chest, he was steaming. he has a continuous fight with himself in his head over it, how he isn’t the type to dance anyway, so it’s fine if you have fun dancing with someone else. but also, have you ever had that much fun with him before? like you did tonight with some stranger? he’s so pissed off he can’t remember, especially when he thinks about how close they were to his baby.

when rindou is lost in his head, he never notices the things he does outwardly to keep himself calm. like the tapping on your arm or the shake of his leg, but you do, rousing out of sleep, peeking one eye up at him.

“rinnie?” you croak, voice hoarse from the amount of shouting and laughing you did tonight. “you okay?”

he looks down at you, unable to control the frustration clearly etched across his face. “i’m fine. go back to sleep.”

“no.” you say, even in your half-asleep state you can tell that something’s up, “what’s wrong.”

“nothing.” he huffs, trying his best to not let his emotions get the best of him. but if there’s one thing rindou hates, it’s talking about his feelings.

you pause, trying to think your words over carefully. “did i do something wrong?” he doesn’t respond, and you mull it over again, when an answer comes to you. “oh… i won’t go to the club anymore, if that’s what you want, i bet i looked pretty lame dancing out there-“

“no!” he interrupts, “no… you looked amazing…besides, i love watching you dance.”

“then what is it, rindou? i can’t read your mind, y’know?” you remind him and his face softens.

“i know…” he replies, and you wait for him to continue. that’s something that he’s grateful for, that when he does talk, you never rush him, letting him go at his own pace. “it’s just… did you have to dance with that guy tonight?” he mumbles, voice trailing off so that it’s barely audible.

“hm? i didn’t hear you, did i have to..?” you ask, tilting your head.

“did you have to dance with that stupid dude tonight?!” he nearly yells, rushing out his words and you blink, a little taken aback.

“oh…” you realize, he’s jealous. you realize now that from where he was looking it probably did look bad, his partner, dancing and laughing it up with a stranger. “i’m sorry, i didn’t know that bothered you so much…”

for some reason, that sets rindou off and he scoffs, pissed off once again. of course he’d be annoyed, of course he’d be jealous. you’re his partner. “do you love me?”

his question comes out more like an accusation and you hate it because it stings. in turn you say, “i do. do you trust me?”

he wants to bite back, but when he looks at you, he can’t. you look so hurt, he sighs, rubbing his temple with his free hand, “… sorry. i do trust you. i’m bad at this.”

“i know,” you say and he glances at you, surprised, which makes you smile. “you’re awful at telling me how you feel, so you act all cool and tough instead.”

“aren’t you mad at me?” he asks, your sudden smile catching him off guard.

“hmm… not really mad, just a little hurt is all.” you say, because even though he was the one who told you that you get along with everyone you meet, you know rindou inside and out, culminating from the many years the two of you have shared together.

rindou doesn’t want to seem controlling, but because of that he neglects to establish his boundaries, too focused on how comfortable you feel. it’s his own weird way of control, if he doesn’t push you, let’s you do your thing, then you’ll stay. you won’t leave him like he’s scared you’ll do if he ever says no.

he apologizes again, his frustration turning to shame. you're so patient, even when he snaps at you or can't find the words. but you shake your head, “thanks for telling me. let me know what bothers you, please?”

“i’ll try,” he mumbles, glancing away, and you know that means that next time he probably won’t. he’ll most likely bury those feelings deep inside until you catch wind, but it’s the fact that he’ll at least try that makes you happy. it’s okay, you’ll always be there when he needs it.

you settle back into your original position, closing your eyes and within a few minutes, you’re dozing off asleep.

tonight really did a number on you, he thinks, while playing with your hair, maybe i should be more honest with you… i love you.

but there's a few things that rindou doesn’t realize. like how he’s talking out loud, or that you’re still just barely awake, his “i love you,” warming you up like the morning sun. as much as you wanna mention it when you wake up, you also don’t wanna embarrass him. for now, you’ll keep this a secret.♡

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers x reader #hanma shuji x reader #ran haitani x reader #rindou haitani x reader #hanma shuji #ran haitani #rindou haitani #pibby writing #RANS WAS MY FAVORITE JSYK !!!!

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 3 months

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Hello hello!! I was not expecting requests to be open again so fast, but i am DEVOURING your writing, so i shan't complain!

What about Dogday getting saved by a teenager who’s desensitized to the horrors of the factory? Like of course, they’re perturbed, but aside from initially seeing Dogday(because holy shit), the biggest reaction they’ll give is a cringe and a “eugh” or some other mild exclamation of “that’s fucked up.” Essentially just Dogday interacting with a kid who’s weirdly chill with the circumstances and tries to be silly sometimes despite the persisting horrors.

Thank you so much and have a wonderful day/night!!!

Awe thanks! Have a good day/night too!

.......

"You..you're Poppy's angel..come to save us-"

"Eugh..what the hell happened to you?"

While back in the day, Dogday would've scolded you for using profane language...he finds it understandable considering you discovered him in his....erm..current condition.

The initial shock of seeing him would have anybody from outside the factory deeply disturbed.

But he's surprised that you're not fully freaked out and didn't run away.

Instead you manage to get him out of the Playhouse (while curbstomping a few little critters who tried crawling into his body along the way) and found a safe spot to rest.

Despite his insistence that you should leave him, you point out that he mentioned you saving him earlier.

"When you said "us", I thought that included you, too."

"I-I meant the others. The ones who can still walk..and still have a fighting chance. Look at me, kid. All I'm gonna do is weigh you down."

"....I mean, you are kinda heavy. But I've lifted worse with this grabpack. I got you."

He's confused by how oddly calm you are about everything.

If you were able to get down this far in the facility, you would've had to cross paths with Huggy, Mommy, Catnap, and Miss Delight at some point.

By all accounts, you definitely should've been traumatized at least from seeing all the bloody toys laying around.

Yet you're cool as a cucumber as you try your best to fix him (with assistance from Kissy, Ollie, and Poppy, of course, who are stunned you came out of the Playhouse alive)

Dogday remembers how scared the children were during the Hour of Joy, comforting them as he helped them flee the terror...so to be comforted by a kid now felt strange.

Yet your calm demeanor helps ground him whenever he starts to have a panic attack over Catnap finding him or if he feels like a critter or two is already inside of him, trying to take hold and eat whatever organs he had remaining (but it's just a sensation he feels from time to time).

You snap him out of it by asking rather silly questions.

"What if I stuck a flare in your mouth? Would that deter them?"

"...what? Um...I-I suppose that could work, but hopefully it's not a theory we have to test anytime soon.."

Even if Poppy decided to show you the Hour of Joy tape (which he had to look away from and tried persuading you to do the same), your only reaction is a slight grimace and a simple "damn wtf....you guys think any of those workers were running late or didn't go in that day?"

Dogday is shocked you'd joke at a time like this...but she knows you better and tells him you're just like That(tm).

You do care about them. You do wanna destroy the Prototype and save whoever you can along the way--including him.

It just may take some time for him to get used to your personality.

#clanask #poppy playtime x reader #ppt x reader #dogday #smiling critters #teen reader #headcanons #platonic

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queenimmadolla · 2 years

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hope you're taking requests cause hear me out: what about reader waking up from a nap and eddie goes to hug her and realizes that she's really angry because she had a nightmare where he cheated on her with another girl. He's like wtf and she's like yeah you know what you did asshole (except he doesn't). Pls i am so in love with joseph quinn that i've been thinking about this all day 😩

I can't blame you, I think about him all day, too. This one was quite easy for my fingers to runaway with. Hope you like it!

𝐈𝐧 𝐌𝐲 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬

(Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader)

warnings: little bit of angst, imagined infidelity, plenty of comfort and fluff.

Your eyes glare daggers at the back of Eddie’s head, simultaneously willing him to look at you while also kind of wanting his hair to spontaneously combust into flames. You were curled up on his bed, bundled up in blankets with your head pressed into one of his flat ass pillows. You’d been awake for a good ten minutes, having ‘accidentally’ fallen asleep when Eddie brought you over after school and you immediately settled into his bed with the excuse that you were simply resting your head and would not fall asleep on him, fully knowing that was your intention from the moment you’d sealed your fate last night and watched The Dark Crystal again. You’d stayed up until almost 3:00 a.m. to finish it. But it wasn’t your fault! You couldn’t be blamed, it was due back at Family Video and your mom planned on dropping off the rentals on her way to work so you had to squeeze in one last watch, for Fizzgig.

You were regretting it now as a mixture of anger and anxiety swirled deep in your stomach, you’d had a bad dream, a nightmare. Not anything gory or violent, although you thought you may have preferred to have Freddy make a shish kabob out of you or even Jason shanking you with his machete, anything over seeing Eddie cuddled up with a girl who most definitely wasn’t you. The longer you stare at the back of his head, at the frizzy mess of curls while he scribbles fervently in his DnD notebook on the ground, back leaning up against the bed, the more you think about the evil scene you’d been forced to witness in your own damn dream. It felt so real, and you hated it.

You’d been on your way out of the school, easily maneuvering through the crowd also headed for the school entrance to flood out into the parking lot where you knew Eddie would be waiting for you by his van. Only he wasn’t waiting for you. He had Roxy Campbell—the pretty, stupid Volleyball player who made her interest in Eddie ridiculously clear despite the fact that he was yours—pressed up against his van. It was obviously an intimate moment, you could see her stupid, pretty blue eyes staring coyly up at him through her lashes as he pressed his forehead to hers, whispering something that made the corners of her lips curl up into a flirtatious smile as she reached a finger, you wanted very desperately to break, up to twirl a lock of his hair around before she grasped the back of his head and yanked him down to meet her in an open mouthed kiss.

Your eyes had shot open the moment you had felt your dream heart plummet from its place in your chest to a deep, dark cavern you didn’t know existed in you. Your actual heart was beating wildly, tears already prickling at your waterline regardless of having just woken up. And despite your biggest fear coming true in a hellish nightmare, your Eddie wasn’t making out with Roxy by his van. Yet.

You’d allowed yourself to just lay there as your anger brewed, mind racing with various scenarios regarding what the dream could have meant; all of them coming to the conclusion that Eddie fucking sucked. The girls on the Volleyball team were well known for their asses, mainly because of those ludicrously tight, booty shorts they wore, but your ass was significantly better than Roxy’s and you both knew it. Along with being with Eddie, it was one of the reasons why she despised you and you were proud of that. So why would Eddie want her instead of you?

Think of the devil, Eddie glances over his shoulder, his dumb beautiful, baby cow eyes lighting up the moment he realizes you’re awake.

You scowl back and hiss out, “Bitch.”

Then you yank the blankets up just below your nose and roll onto your other side, leaving your back to him.

Eddie’s mouth drops open, eyes wide in disbelief at the sudden anger you were directing at him. The fuck did he do?

“Excuse me?” He closes the notebook, before tossing it and his pen aside as he stands and leaps onto the bed. You pay him no mind, scowl deepening as you’re jostled by his actions. Eddie doesn’t let that stop him; despite how tense you forced your body to be, he drags you into his arms, attempting to cuddle you.

“I didn’t quite catch that, wanna repeat it for me?” He mumbles, nuzzling his face into your neck as he presses a kiss just below your jaw. You refuse to budge, aware that he’d heard you in the first place. When you don't respond, Eddie just keeps pressing kisses to your skin, nose brushing up against your neck as he begins to trail kisses up towards your ear. “I said say that again, baby.”

But you refuse to comply, it was obvious he was daring you to repeat your insult, goading you to give him a reason to snap. Normally, you loved to play his games, but you weren’t in the mood now.

“‘Lemme alone, don’t act like you don’t know.” You demanded, voice muffled by the blankets but you knew he heard you when he went taut and then he pulls away, a ring covered hand grabbing your shoulder to press your back to the mattress, forcing you to stare up at him.

Eddie’s eyebrows were pulled together in exasperation as he glowers down at you. In any other circumstance, you’d find him and your current position ridiculously hot but right then you could only feel satisfaction at having got on his nerves. Serves him fucking right.

“Okay, what the fuck is your problem?” Eddie cuts straight to the point. He’d tried playing nice, but he knew you; knew you wouldn’t succumb to his seduction, encouragement or coaxing and he knew he didn’t have the patience to wait around for you to eventually tell him what had you so upset because you were prone to holding everything in, happily hanging on to any grudge you could develop, so there was a legitimate chance that you’d just never tell him and hold it against him instead of working it out. You loved to self-sabotage but he wasn’t about to let that happen.

“You!” You lower the blankets, reaching a hand to push him off of you. Eddie was much stronger than you, though. He didn’t budge, still glaring down at you as you try to wiggle away.

“Me?” Eddie’s annoyance morphs into confusion, nose scrunching up as his eyes squint, “What did I do?”

“You kissed her!” This time when you shove at him, Eddie’s body gives away, he allows you to scurry off the bed, though you didn’t do much but crawl towards the dresser, back pressed up against it as you turned to face him, expression still set in a scowl. Despite your current brattiness, Eddie couldn’t help but think about how fucking cute you looked all worked up. Your hair was a mess, but that just made him want to tangle his fingers in it, and your lips were pursed in a pout that he was fighting to not kiss away.

Speaking of kisses, “What?! What are you talking about? I haven’t kissed anyone but you!”

“Roxy!” You spit out, body heating up with your anger.

“I have never, ever kissed Roxy. Nor do I want to, where is this coming from?” Eddie moved to sit on the edge of the bed, legs spread out as he leans his elbows on them, watching you with careful eyes.

“You kissed her in my dream,” you knew the moment you said it, he’d probably think you were being irrational but you didn’t care. He wasn’t the one that had to imagine the person he loved kissing someone else.

Eddie’s exasperation returned, “You’re mad at me for something I did in your dream?” See? You knew it! He was making it seem like you were being childish and maybe you were but, again, you didn’t fucking care!

“How am I supposed to control that?! It was just a nightmare!”

“If it was a nightmare, then why did it hurt my feelings?” You snap back and Eddie softens, he had chalked this all up to you being bratty but it was obvious to him now that you were genuinely upset about it. He could see how glossy your eyes were, and now he could make out the hurt beneath the rage. You’d had a nightmare about something you were insecure about, you were hurt by a version of him—trusting and loving all versions of him—so you lashed out and here he was being an asshole instead of comforting you.

“Dreams mean things, Eddie! This one was a-a bad omen! Or something! Clearly, you want her or you’re interested in her, or there’s some sort of underlying issue!”

“Oh, there’s definitely an underlying issue,” Eddie sighs and stands, making his way over to crouch near you and you tensed further, like you were waiting for him to confirm that you were right and that makes him feel even more guilty, “the love of my life believes there’s a chance that I’d want someone else when I’d rather die and go to my own personal hell where I’m forced to watch a cheer squad composed of clones of Principal Higgins’ in a pep rally, that never ends, than be without her.”

You want to be angry, you really do because the moment your anger is gone you’ll just feel silly but you can feel the tension easing away from your body and you play with your fingers, refusing to meet Eddie’s eyes, “. . . Really?”

Eddie hooks a finger under your chin, tilting it until you’re forced to look at him and you can see the sincerity and love in those pretty, chocolate eyes. You’re positive you’re melting. “I’m in love with you, only you. Told you I’m gonna marry you someday, and I mean that. Besides, Roxy tries to steal Jonathan’s seat in front of me during History sometimes and I’m now keenly aware that she doesn’t wear deodorant or any alternative so I promise you, baby, she is not and has never been your competition. No one compares to you. Even if she did smell decent, you’re the only person I’ll ever want, ‘kay?”

You launch yourself at him and both you and Eddie go crashing to the floor behind him, though he breaks the fall for you, arms winding themselves around your waist to hold you tight against him as you pepper kisses all over his face. When you pull away, you admire the kiss stains, left behind by your lipstick, that map his face and he’s staring up at you, looking absolutely love sick, if he were a cartoon character, his pupils and irises would be heart shaped. You were wrong; Eddie doesn’t suck. He’s the most loving boyfriend to ever exist, and he’s yours. And your Eddie, in the flesh, is better than any Eddie that can exist in your dreams.

“I love you.” You smile, leaning down to nuzzle the tip of your nose against his before giving it a kiss.

Eddie’s hands finally get to tangle in your hair as he angles you down for a kiss, if it can even be called that. He’s smiling too much for you to even do it properly but you don’t really mind. “And I love you. I’d fuck up that other Eddie though, no one hurts my girl’s feelings and gets way with it.”

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kittievampire · 1 year

Note

There's this text message from Simeon where he doesn't know how to take pictures on his phone. MC offers to help and he says that Lucifer would be impressed to see his pictures if MC taught him what to do.

My headcanon is that Simeon isn't as naive as he seems tho (cuz how you gonna be an angle and be dressed in the most slutty outfit huh). So MC goes to purgatory hall, helps him out, then "helps him out" wink wonk and he uses his 'new' camera skills to take pictures of her. And a couple 'accidentally' make their way to Lucifer.

I think it would be best if the way Simeon acts genuinely makes mc believe that he's innocent so she's not just naive, he's playing her ya know? Fuckboy Simeon? Gaslihhting? Imagine if he said "you know what you're doing". Okey tanks <3

So jealous cause I never got this text from Simeon >:(

Like, does bro not love me too? Wtf?

Anyways,

Lemme see what I have in my bag, dear~

Click here if ya wanna request!

Taking Photos is Hard!

Warnings: Cursing, Smut, Feigning Innocence (Gaslighting), Fuckboy! Simeon x Fem! MC, Photo/Video Exhibitionism, Creampie, Mention of Facial, Lucifer is the real victim here

Enjoy.

Simeon wasn't the best with technology, and you knew this.

That's why you were so compliant when he requested your assistance.

"I'm sorry, again, for inconveniencing you, MC." He apologized once more as he stepped aside, allowing you entry to his shared room with Luke. "Luke is out right now. He and Barbatos had planned a baking marathon, and Solomon wanted to tag along as well, so it's just the two of us in here."

You nodded your head in understanding, sitting down on the white sofa. "Ooh, this is comfy," You said with a small smile. "Okay!" You clasped your hands together. "You said you needed help with photos. Do you know how to get to the camera?"

Simeon pulled the device out of his pocket, pinching his brows together as he swiped through the applications. "Yes... I believe so, I've been there once... What does it look like?" He asked, eyes flicking to meet your gaze for a mere moment before looking back down at the screen. "It has a camera icon," You said, gently grasping his arm and tugging at it so he'd sit down beside you on the sofa.

The angel sat himself down beside you, and you peered over his shoulder to look at the D.D.D., pointing at the camera icon. "Right there." He clicked on it, screen immediately presenting a closer look at his crotch area. You could've sworn you saw a tent in his pants, but you quickly shook it off with a blush.

"Okay, so, do you see this huge white circle right here?" Simeon nodded. "That's what you're going to click to take a photo."

The angel stared down at the D.D.D. "Oh, what does this thing do?" He asked, swiping to the video option and pointing at the red circle. "That's to take a video. Go back to the camera."

There was silence for a moment.

"How do I do that?" You let out a small sigh, swiping back to the camera option. "Try taking a photo, I'll be your model!" You joked, leaning back onto the couch. "Ah, okay! Wow, you sure know what you're doing!" Simeon shot up with a smile, holding the D.D.D. in each hand horizontally. You sighed in relief, thankful that he knew how to, at the very least, hold the damn thing when taking a photo. "Tilt your head to the side a little? Put your knees together, and push your arms against yourself, but leave your hands on the sofa!"

"Wow, you're really getting into the modeling thing," You chuckled softly, following directions and adjusting your position as per requested. The camera flashed and Simeon repositioned himself. "Turn over,"

After adjusting your position multiple times in this little photoshoot, you found yourself bent over the sofa, skirt at your ankles, and Simeon slowly pulling your panties down to your knees. "S-Simeon, I don't think this is necessary!" The angel frowned, gently running a hand over your ass and caressing your lower back, which made you shudder. "Come now, MC. I'll let you photograph my most intimate areas as well if you be good for me." His voice was so sweet, almost as if he wasn't caressing the nakedness of the lower half of your body.

Simeon pulled his hand away, pushing his white pants down with one hand. "Stay just like that, Dove," He murmured softly, swallowing a lump in his throat as he saw your drooling cunt spew more of your essence onto your panties. A shudder sound was heard and you could see the wall glow a bit as the flash went off. Your breathing hitched as you felt your juices running down your thigh, pussy absolutely soaked in anticipation.

You wanted—

No, you needed him to do something. Anything!

Instead, Simeon stood behind you, snapping photos (mainly close-ups of your sopping cunt), while fisting his weeping hard cock. He then paused for a moment, swiping to the record option and hitting the red dot. "Dove," He moaned out softly, reaching out the hand that was getting himself off to gently run his fingers over your slit. You gasped. "What's this, hm? Why are you so wet?" You shook your head, burying your face into one of the pillows on the sofa. "I didn't know you were so perverted, Dove. You're dripping," He cooed, shifting his position so that he pressed the blunt tip against your entrance, precum oozing down to your clit. "W-Wha—?!"

You felt like the air was punched out of you, letting out a sharp gasp as Simeon slammed his entire cock into you in one go, your walls squeezing his length. You cried out, only for the angel behind you to shove your head into the pillow to silence you. "Shhhhh. MC, your voice is so angelic, but I want to hear what this cute little pussy of yours has to say as well," He said, angling the camera to capture how he thrusted his hips forward, cock slamming into you, earning a squelch from your cunt and a whine from your mouth, one that was muffled into the pillow. "There you go," He moaned out softly, moving his hand down to gently caress your ass.

Your walls clenched tightly around him, eyes rolling back as tears started to gather at your lower lash line. You squeezed the pillow in front of you, body jerking forward in protest to his rough fucking. Your vision was going blurry, and it felt like your brain was melting. All you could think of was Simeon and his huge cock that was fucking you into the sofa.

Simeon grasped one of your legs, lifting it and pushing your knee against the couch. This new angle allowed him to shift closer, thrust deeper into you, slamming into the spot that made you scream. "Quiet, MC," He warned softly, one of his hands moving down to circle your throbbing clit.

The stimulation from the bundle of nerves, as well as from his merciless thrusting, was sending you near the edge. "S-Simeon!" You moaned out, hugging the pillow close to your face. "That's it, Dove, let everyone know who's fucking you so good." His voice was so taunting yet so smooth, a sharp contrast to your shaky and slightly raspy voice.

He felt your walls convulse around him, letting out a gasp at how tight you were. "You're close, aren't you, MC?" Simeon stopped himself from leaning forward to kiss you, as that would screw with the camera angle. He chuckled softly. "You're squeezing me so tight, how naughty."

With a muffled cry of his name, you felt him slam into your sweet spot once more, and your orgasm racked through your body harshly, juices gushing out of your cunt, further lubricating his cock. Simeon started thrusting faster, the tip of his length bullying your cervix as he chased his own high, free hand gripping one of your hips tightly. "Gonna cum in you, Dove—" He groaned— "Take it! Take it all! Take all of my cum like a good girl, MC!" He whimpered out, almost begged before he buried himself deep inside of your cunt, moaning as he came. You could feel him filling you up, a white ring of his cum forming just around his cock as he painted your walls and filled you to the brim. He thrusted a few more times, riding out his high, before slowly pulling out of you.

Simeon zoomed in on your pussy, that was drooling with his cum, before stopping the video and taking a few pictures.

You turned your head to the side so you could breathe, panting heavily as you tried to gather your thoughts and come back to reality. That was, until you felt something poke against your cheek. You glanced over to see Simeon holding his cock up to your face, looking up to see Simeon holding the D.D.D., camera pointed directly at you.

"You didn't think we were done were you?"

Lucifer was in his study, stressed out from the stack of papers that still needed to be signed. He decided to take a short break and scroll through his D.D.D., though he wasn't expecting to get a text from Simeon so late into the night.

With a raised brow, the eldest looked at the notification.

Simeon: 3 attachments

"So he finally learned how to send pictures," The Avatar of Pride mumbled to himself, clicking on the notification before catching his breath in his throat. Lucifer nearly choked at what he saw.

The first picture was of your naked body sprawled out on a bed, a lewd expression on your face, and what he assumed was Simeon's cock balls-deep inside of your cunt. The second picture was of your face in front of the same cock, coated in cum with a dazed look on your face. The third was just of your pussy with cum pouring out of it, streaming down your thighs, as if you'd been stuffed completely full.

Lucifer felt his pants get tighter around the crotch, failing to notice the three dots that indicated Simeon typing.

Simeon: Oh, I'm so sorry, I didn't know that would send to you!

Simeon: How do I save these to my gallery?

Hope you liked this anon!

Masterlist

#obey me #obey me mc #obey me simeon #obey me simeon smut #omswd simeon #simeon smut #simeon obey me smut #om! simeon smut #simeon obey me #obey me simeon x mc #obey me mc x simeon

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sexydoffyman · 8 months

Note

IT IS I…..

I have RETURNED TO THY WITH ANOTHER REQUEST!!!!!!!! I ALSO LOVED THAT YANDERE KONIG HC I ATE THAT SHIT UPPP HOLY LIKE YALL R SO GOOD WTF

🔥

anyways ignoring my crazy ramblings,,,,,,,,

this time I have dropped on by to request some DRAMA AND TEA, maybe headcanons on ghost, soap, and konig fighting over the m!reader’s love

YOU HAVE CREATIVE LIBERTY, GIVE US MORE HCS PLEASEEEEE and take ur time!!! U CAN MAKE IT SPICY OR NAW BUT I NEED TO SEE THIS

MAYBE SUBTLY FIGHTING OR NOT… I MEAN,,, I MEAN,,,,, YOU CAN ADD MORE PPL IF U WANT…….. I DONT MIND BECAUSE I NEED TO SEE THE TEA UNFOLD

FIGHTING OVER YOU

navigation

p1 p2 p3

genre: romance?

characters: Ghost, Soap, König

A/N: You may have just become my favorite requester.🦑

artist @ave661 check their stuff out, my fellow humans!

Soap and Ghost definitely mock each other. Ghost saying, Soap is a Leprechaun. Soap just says, "Go brush your teeth." in the most British accent.

They are rivals. Both have the same goal.

The mockery is just a "play fight" since they know each other.

With König tho. When he joins the fight over your attention, all hell breaks loose.

He's tall and intimidating, and they don't know him.

Those two stop arguing so fast.

Now, they have a common enemy.

To be honest, any two of them would gladly team up to ruin the third ones attempt to get your attention.

Ghost and Soap would threaten König when they see him eyeing you.

It's not the "Don't touch him, he's mine!" kind of threat. It's the "I will haunt you and everyone you ever cared about down." kind of threat.

It progressed from mocking each other, embarrassing each other, pulling each other away from you to blood on their fists and faces.

They fought like damn animals.

Soap had his face obviously bruised.

Ghost had his balaclava slightly torn.

König broke some of his gear.

They were trying to rip each other to shreds.

All just to get your attention.

Not even Price could've stopped the fight.

They just tired each other out so much they passed out.

Their way of fighting lacked any morals.

Trying to poke each other's eyes out.

Breaking a couple of ribs along the way.

Price was not in the room when they passed out. There were just a couple of new recruits.

All of them didn't dare to get close to them when they saw how brutal they were.

When they got up, they were at each other's throats once again.

Not caring about the injuries they had.

The room cleared, with no one wanting to get caught up in the fight.

Soap was about to throw a punch at König but stopped.

Ghost took that chance, punching him to the ground.

He soon realized why Soap hesitated.

You ran up to the hurdle of tired soldiers.

They all loosened up, releasing anyone from their grip.

"Holy shit, ya'll fucked each other up!" You exclaimed.

Ghost's eyes filled with embarrassment. You could swear he was blushing under that mask.

Soap smiled at you awkwardly, hoping that you didn't lose interest in him because of his brutality.

Königs eyes softened. He felt so relaxed when you talked to them.

You bent down next to them, examining their wounds.

Soap and Ghost were just waiting for you to look at them with disgust. Meanwhile, König was admiring you.

"BUHAHAHA" You laughed at them. "What kind of disagreement made you fight like this?" You wondered giggling.

If only you knew.

The three of them looked behind you, seeing another dude look at you with a smirk.

There, it was decided.

They were gonna work together to make this dude piss his pants.

Now, you have scary dog privileges.

A/N: I can see myself writing p2 of this so feel free to request for this again.

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red-viewe · 10 months

Text

general lilia x reader thoughts 🔫 (part three 👌)

COLORED LETTERS IS FAE LANGUAGE, (tw swearing)

Part 2 part 1

"Please pay attention to me, your grace~" a young lady says as she touches Lilia seductively, before he pushes her away and walks away, rolling his eyes.

'Ew.'

"C'mon, Duke! Look alive! You're the famous general, you should enjoy the fame!" A soldier playfuly shouts, as the party gets louder and louder.

The war has finally ended after 3 years, peace taking over both sides of the war. The borders are open, and many expected years of prosperity and peace.

'3 years since I've seen them, 3 years since I've felt their warmth.' Lilia sighs, massaging his temples.

'Just a few more days until i see them.

Just a few more days....'

----

"Y/n, my love and life, please take this ring and marry m-"

"Absolutely not." You slam the door, annoyed. It's been 3 years since Lilia left, and the war ended, meaning that men and women are coming back home to see their families, some looking to start one. As a hot asf, unmarried, somewhat financially stable person, you were expected to be popular among the marriage market in both women and men.

'Dude, i did not know i had this much game.' You thought, peeking out the window to see a line of people waiting at your door. 'WTF I DON'T KNOW HALF THESE PEOPLE. IT'S LITERALLY 3 IN THE MORNING. '

Sighing, you quickly pulled out a peice of paper, writing in bold, thick letters, 'NOT ACCEPTING MARRIAGE PROPOSALS' and stuck it onto the window.

'What if he forgot about me? Should i just give up on waiting?' Fuck no. Why would you do that to lilia?

'Genuinely fuck this shit.' You sighed, going back to sleep.

-----

'Knock knock knock'

'Ugh, dude i swear, if it's another suitor I'm moving.'

You slowly walk to the door, opening the door.

"I said no more suitors! Read the god damn sign!" You say, annoyed, looking up to see a man with long, black hair with red highlights. You slam the door, and go to walk back to your room.

'Wait.' You pause to think. (For once)

Long black hair with red- OMG YOU JUST SLAMED THE DOOR ON LILIA.

You rush back to the door, now fully awake and quickly open the door.

"LIlia!" You jump to hug the fae, his eyes widened at the sudden embrace.

"Beastie! I thought you forgot who i was. How mean of you to slam the door on your love." He hugs you back, pouting and nuzzling his face into your neck with warm cheeks.

"W-we don't talk about that..." You look away, embarrassed.

"Pft, it's quite alright, my love." He pulls you in for a soft, deep kiss. "So I hear you had many suitors, hmm? Planning to marry someone who's not me?" Lilia smirks, pulling away to cup your cheek.

"I swear i can explain-"

-----

"And thats how me and your mother/father met snd fell in love." Lilia giggles at the memory, "Ahh, young love." A young silver haired boy looks at his father, now filled with questions.

"But father, but isn't y/n a human? How can they live so l"ong? Also, what happened to all the suitors? And the bar?"

"Hmm, now now, silver, that's too complicated for your young mind to understand. I shall tell you when you are of age." Lilia smiles, as he rocks the boy to sleep.

"Everytime you tell that story, Silver always ends uo falling asleep." You walk in, taking Silver from Lilia's arms to transfer him to his spiderbat bed.

"It's our love story dear, I'll tell it again and again untill the whole world knows how we fell in love."

"You're lucky I love you, you cheeky bat." You pout, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.

"I love you too, beastie."

----

Authors notes :D

I THOUGHT I PUBLISHED THIS BEFORE GOING CAMPING IM SO SRRY

Also this is probably the end of the general lilia x read thoughts series, but I'll definitely be making more stories on other characters and lilia.

Also if you guys want side stories on this series lmk(Requests r always open btw GIMMIE UR IDEAS)

(Taggies: (SRRY IF UR TAG DIDNT WORK) @rainingdandelion @rincommittedarsin

@ayachansan @sugarkitty839 @oogly-oogly @rainbowcake1212 @kitsune25 @ninjalizards

@thi3u @nico707 @mistuna @otomyoli @syndyj @ftyaftya @secret-potion @cottage-clockwork @raaawwwr

#twsited wonderland #twst x you #twisted wonderland #lilia vanrouge #twisted wonderland lilia #lilia vanrouge x reader #general!lilia x reader #lilia x you #red-viewe

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shuchu · 8 months

Note

i like to imagine shu & ikes thrusts be short, slow yet sensual, but it evolves to harsher and faster thrusts but still maintaining the short distance

meanwhile mystas, voxs and lucas thrusts are long, fast and harsh, but it starts out slow in a grinding like motion

🫶

ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod i'm losing my mind over this, i'm going absolutely feral wtf

i went absolutely insane for mysta and shu lmao enjoy the food lovelies ♡

nsfw, minors dni

i agree, vox's thrusts are long, he likes to start off slow, pulling it out till it's just the tip nestled in you before slamming his length back into you. sometimes he takes it out and slides the tip against your entrance a little before sliding it back all the way.

he also likes to do little figure 8s, stimulating you in a different way that makes your tongue loll out and your eyes roll back. he loves doing that because he loves that look on your face, he'd coo at you, "awww look at you, it feels good huh? mmm...fuck- you take my dick so fucking good."

he then picks up the pace, his thrusts turning fast and harsh. it constantly hits that sweet spot making you clamp around his length, making him groan lowly.

"fuck- cum for me sweet thing..."

"mmm...just like that- ah fuck! i'm gonna cum too-"

mysta's thrusts i imagine to be long as well, but he likes to pull it out all the way to slide the tip against your sopping slit before entering again and bottoming out. he would do this a few times and the way you would whine and squirm against him makes him smirk. he likes when you make those noises and beg for him to fuck you.

"yeah? what do you want babe? use your words."

after he feels that he's edged you and teased you enough he sheathes his stiff and leaking length inside you, a mewl escaping your lips and you start moving your hips. he'd start off slow, doing long thrusts, making you claw down his back in frustration. he'd groan and pick up the pace, fucking into you harshly. he can't help himself anymore, the way you're squeezing around him like that begging to be fucked. the tip of his cock would constantly be hitting the opening of your womb, making you gush around his cock, drenching it in your fluids.

"ngh- fuck...yes...cum all over my cock..."

i feel like with luca, it depends on his mood. if he's feeling all soft he'd do long sensual thrusts, making sure you feel every inch of him in you. he'd hold your hips steady while he fucks into you, swallowing your moans with his lips.

whereas if he's feeling particularly feral and horny that day ─ perhaps after being away from you for a while or after you've teased him till his breaking point, he'd do short but harsh thrusts. you'd be on all fours and he'd pull your hips back onto his, slamming you onto his length. all you can do is just scream out in pleasure and whimper from how good it feels.

"hah...yeah? it feels good hmm?"

"cum for me baby...cum for me, cum for me please..."

"ngh- yes...just like that...aah-! fuck..."

i feel like ike would be like luca, he'd start off with slow, long thrusts. slowly sliding his length in and out of you, making low groans and receiving sultry moans. but you'd encourage him to go faster and harder, he'd hesitate but eventually, he would just rut his hips into you with short but harsh thrusts ─ fucking you just the way you like, making your toes curl and moans turn into whines of desperation to cum.

"i know you're close my love, ah- fuck! you're squeezing me so tight..."

the short but harsh thrusts really stimulate your sweet spot making you cry out and release all over his cock.

"ngh- ah-! i'm getting close too..."

shu would definitely start slow too but he'd do short but sensual thrusts, he'd pull out slightly before sliding into you again. moments pass and both of you would get impatient, he'd want to take his time with you but the growing knot in both your abdomens say otherwise. so shu would start thrusting into you faster and harder, rubbing that spot that feels so damn good.

"mmh- yeah? it feels good? ah-! you want me to go faster?"

he quickens the pace once more, the skin of your ass slapping against his thigh and the obscene squelching stimulating you further towards your release.

"yeah? that feels good...?"

"oh god...you're squeezing around me so tight...a-aah!"

"mmh- y-you feel so...good..."

he'd kiss you as you scream in pleasure from hitting your climax, his hips still fucking into you at the same pace, making him reach his climax too ─ coating your walls with his cum. his hips slow down, sliding in and out of you languidly while the both of you come down from your highs.

#hana replies ♡#🫶 anon ♡#luxiem #luxiem x reader #vox akuma #vox akuma x reader #mysta rias #mysta rias x reader #luca kaneshiro #luca kaneshiro x reader #ike eveland #ike eveland x reader #shu yamino #shu yamino x reader

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keresnotceres · 9 months

Text

Say You’re Mine (Good, Good, Great pt 2)

Ghost x Fem!Reader

[nsfw] cw(s): rdr is being a slut again, jealousy, possessive undertones, SEX, rough sex, oral (m receiving), throatfucking lol, p-in-v sex, ghost getting called ‘big boy,’ unsafe sex oops.

4.7k words In honor of 200+ followers (wtf guys thank u) & by the request of many, I present to you: Good, Good, Great pt2 :) This is just shameless porn with an egregious amount of plot. Enjoy my lovely dovies <3 (Also Ghost has a short refractory period for uh,, plot reasons).

A few months after his jealousy at Myth, Ghost gets sent on leave. When he arrives home at 12 AM on a Friday night, he promptly decides to pay you a little visit at work. You, however, are once again testing his patience (and he doesn’t take particularly kindly to that).

Roughly three months later, you’re working a busy Friday night at Myth, and damn it, you’re making sure that you’re making good money tonight. Flirting was easy; men were easy. Just making them think you were the least bit interested did wonders for your tips. Sure, you didn’t make as much as the girls on stage, but it was pretty damn close to it.

You made your way downstairs after taking a few orders from assorted tables upstairs, going to the servers closet to ring them into the system when the hostess scurried over and told you about a party of 8 at Center Table 3 before skittering on back to the stand to greet another guest or five. After putting your tables’ orders, you began to prepare yourself for the nightmare that this 8-top was about to be.

It was only 10 PM, and you had hope they wouldn’t stick around until closing. As you make your way through the sea of customers on the first floor, you spot the table; even better, you spot the perfect person to flirt-till-you-die with.

He was rather young, maybe 21 or 22, and looked like he would see white if you even smiled at him. He came in with some sort of bachelor party, and you were expecting the worst sort of groom-to-be and his just-as-bad groomsmen. Your target looked the most frightened to be there, like if he said the wrong thing he would be thrown to the curb; which meant he was the perfect man to squeeze some money out of. The men around him would probably cheer him on for getting special attention.

You walk over to the table with a smile etched onto your face, swaying your hips just enough to be noticeable, and put a small bounce into your steps. You stop next to the man at the head of the table and wait for the group to quiet from their unnecessarily in-depth conversation about their favorite actresses.

“I’ll be taking care of you guys tonight,” you introduce yourself. “Can I get you guys started with a bottle or are you looking for something by the glass?” You look down at the man you’re next to, tilting your head a bit.

He looks up to you, not even bothering to hide the stare he gives your tits. “What beers do you have here?”

You nod a bit, launching into the list. “We have Budweiser, Guinness, Foster’s, Carling—” The man put his hand up to stop you, making some sort of interrupting noise.

“I’ll take a Foster’s,” he says blandly. He gestures to another one of his friends to order, head swiveling back over to the stage as a dancer makes her way on. If you didn’t want to take a glass and shove it up his ass at that moment, the following hours of their presence would definitely make you want to.

You stretch your lips into the kindest customer service smile you can muster and look at the next man. When you get to the last drink of the table, the poor man you were planning on hitting in til’ he couldn’t see straight, you step closer.

“And what can I get you?” You make your voice just a little bit sweeter and lean down a bit.

His eyes dart from your face to your breasts, then dart back up. “A whiskey sour,” he blurts out, tacking on a quiet ‘please’ as a second thought.

“Of course,” you smile at him, then look up to the rest of the group. “I’ll be right back with those drinks.” You turn away, and as you’re walking towards the servers closet, you can hear some cheers and a catcall from the table.

Once you’re in the server's closet, you drop the painfully plastic smile and fish a coworker’s Elfbar from the pile of check books and pens on the table below the kiosk. As you enter drink after drink, you take a hit from the vape, letting the nicotine take the place of smacking your head against the wall repeatedly.

You send the final drink, a fucking whiskey sour of all things, and groan. Another bottle girl comes speeding into the server’s closet, a sour look on her face.

“What’s it today, Mel?” You ask, eyebrows raised as you lean against one of the walls.

Mel looks at you disgruntled, like she was about to lose her shit. “My table just tried to order five espresso martinis and then got mad at me when I said we couldn’t do them tonight.” She taps a few buttons of the kiosk rather aggressively. “Then proceeded to ask for an extra strong vodka cran, but to only be charged for a single.”

Mel taps on the mixed drink button, then on the vodka button, then cranberry, then double. “Fuck her,” she hisses, taking the Elfbar right out of your hands.

It’s only after she takes two hits from it that she asks whose it is. You don’t know either.

The night continues like that, with Mel being perpetually pissed off at a table and you staving off the urge to bash your skull in with a vaguely blueberry smelling vape.

When the clock hits midnight, you don’t have the Cinderella moment that some part of you wishes you could have. You don’t get to rush home, fall asleep, then wake up to your prince charming searching for you. No, of course you don’t.

Instead, you get the worst hit from someone’s cart that leaves you fighting for your life and, much worse, the nightmare bachelor table waving you down.

“What can I help you guys with?” You look around the table, waiting for someone to speak up.

One of them takes one for the team, finally. “We wanted to get a bottle of something, but Nick here decided to wave you down before we figured out what to get.” He jerks a thumb in the direction of the man you decided to target.

So your victim's name is Nick, huh?

You put a hand to your mouth and force out a laugh; a man likes it when you laugh at things he says. “It’s alright, I don’t mind waiting for you to decide.” Your eyes flicker to Nick, meeting his for a fleeting second.

It was almost too easy.

You smirk at him, putting on your best charm. “Since you gave me the false alarm, how ‘bout you buy me a drink?” A few of the guys at the table chuckle, as expected. You take the opportunity to walk up to him, getting closer.

You put your hand on the back of his chair, leaning your body weight into it, your fingers facing him. Nick looks up at you like a girl looking up at some ugly guy she’s giving a blowjob to, and it takes everything in you to give him a simple, sultry smile in response instead of a fit of laughter.

You look over to the groom-to-be, waiting for him to decide on the table’s bottle. And then you see a familiar jacket in the corner of your eyes, with a familiar build and a familiar surgical mask covering half of a very familiar face.

God damn, Simon Riley might just be everything you needed tonight.

Once again, he didn’t even bother to call to tell you he was coming home. You couldn’t stay mad at him for long, though. The rational part of your brain blue-screens, leaving only the work-oriented brain and the stupid slut brain left. And the work-oriented part of your brain wants to make good money, so that’s exactly what you’re going to continue doing.

There’s something about fucking with Simon that thrills you. Maybe it’s the fact you know you’ll get something good out of it, or maybe you’re just a little messed up in the head.

You look away from Simon and swivel your head back down to the poor soul you’ve chosen to pay off your car insurance. Your hand shifts so that your fingertips rest gingerly on Nick’s shoulder, and boy does it do wonders.

His look of ‘blowjob innocence’ morphs into ‘holy shit a woman is interested in me’ and some of his friends croon oohs, another whistles. You peel your eyes away from Nick and look to the groom, “have you decided on a bottle?”

He looks over at you from the bottle menu with unfocused eyes. “We’ll do, uh, a bottle of Jameson and,” he squinted back at the menu, then looked at a friend. “What vodka did you want?”

The friend looks up from his lap, his illuminated face darkening. “Oh,” he leans over to look at the menu, then looks at you. Or, rather, he looks at your tits. “Grey Goose.” You fight the urge to raise your eyebrows and question him, but manage to smile politely and nod.

“I’ll bring those right down for you boys.” As you leave the table, you let your fingers trace Nick’s shoulder lightly. Your gaze slowly finds Simon when you turn away, and he simply stares at you, his usual bourbon nestled in a hand.

With a cheeky smile on your face, you skitter over to Simon to greet him.

“Hi there,” you croon, “what’s a big boy like you doin’ here?” Simon gives no hint at a change in attitude, you don’t even see a single hint that he’s smiling under the mask. You pout at him, “at least say hi.”

His eyes are unusually steely, like they had been months ago during his surprise visit. “Stop touching him.”

Your faux pout melts into a grin, “jealous?” You ask, stepping forward. “Again?”

He looks away from you, eyes flicking to the dramatic scene of some random movie playing on one of the bar TVs. “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

You lean into him, breasts pressing up against his bicep. “Come on, big boy,” you goad, “no need to act nonchalant.”

He lifts his arm to push you off, not even bothering to look at you. “You heard me,” he says, “don’t touch him again.” His words only push you to question him further, if anything, they make you want to get more handsy with — what was his name? Nate?

“Or what?” You press, cocking your head to the side to catch his eyes again. “You gonna kill him?” Simon’s eyes flit to you, flashing with some sort of challenge.

His eyes bore into yours, “maybe.” His gaze moves away from you again and his free hand slips up to pull down the surgical mask and take a sip of bourbon.

His lackluster response leaves you itching for more. You huff at him and slink away to the server’s closet to put the two bottles on the bachelor party’s tab. You trudge up the stairs to the second floor, eyes sweeping over the chattering people at tables.

You grab the two requested bottles from the upstairs bar before visiting a few of your tables on the second floor, checking in with a sweet smile before heading back down to the bachelor party. You give your poor cheeks a rest as you bounce down the stairs, your face falling into a bored resting face before it stretches right back into that damn customer service smile that you managed to perfect over the years.

You pass by Simon on your way back to the bachelor party, his eyes give you a brief warning before they flick back to the TV screen. It only makes you want to make him mad.

After you’ve set the bottles on the table and brought over new glasses (including a few shot glasses) for their liquor, you go right back to flirting with whatever-his-name-is. Your hand rests fully on his shoulder as you chat with the table, paying special attention to Nigel (or was it Nico?).

You can practically feel Simon’s eyes burning a hole through you as you do so, and it makes you wonder just how much he really cared about this little stint of yours. Nevertheless, you let your victim of the night continue to think he’s special, you even get roped into feeding him a shot of the Grey Goose.

Nick (you were reminded of his name by one of his friends goading him into taking shots) starts to get more handsy with you, to which you kick it up a notch. As you gently hold the shot glass up to his lips, his hands snake up and rest on your hips, keeping you in place as his friends count down until he has to take the shot.

You lean forward with the shot glass after someone shouts ‘zero,’ basically shoving your tits into his face as he took his shot of top-shelf vodka. You congratulate his semi-decent shot taking skills in an effort to make yourself seem like you really like him.

“Good job,” you purr, hand raising to stroke his hair once before falling back to your side. “Took that so well.” When you step away, the man looks like he’s in a stupor.

You turn to look at Simon with a cheeky smile engraved on your lips, only to receive a very pointed glare.

When the bachelor party finally leaves at around 1:30 AM, after what feels like for-fucking-ever, you wander over to the table to pick up the check. Your flirting really paid off.

A tip of £200 on a bill of roughly £600 — almost a 35% tip. Making money off of men was ridiculously easy. Even better, you finally get to go the fuck home! You silently thank your manager for not giving you the closing shift and get your shit before anyone can pester you to stay longer.

Simon’s waiting for you at the door, staring straight through you as you make your way to him with your work bag slung over your shoulder. He doesn’t make any effort to speak, and you’re frankly a bit too burnt out to comment on it. You pass him your car keys, unwilling to drive after your nightmare shift.

The drive home is quiet, not even the cheesy radio music breaks the silence despite the volume being on level 30.

As soon as he pulls into your parking space of the building lot, he turns the car off and flings your keys back over to you. You amble into the building,

Simon’s hands are on your waist before you can even put your keys down, you barely register that the door shuts behind the two of you as his fingers dig into your hips.

You snicker at him, “you weren't jealous, huh?” Simon doesn’t respond verbally, just hoists you into the air and puts you over his shoulder like you weigh absolutely nothing.

His reaction is nothing he hasn’t done before, but there’s a heat in your abdomen that tells you that you’re going to call out of work tomorrow. Well, that, and the fact that Simon’s had a hard on for the entirety of the drive home and you really wanted to fix that problem for him. Bottom line is, you’re horny, he’s horny, it’s going to be a long fucking night.

It’s what you needed after around 7 months without being stretched out by Simon. It’s what he needed after watching you get touchy with someone who wasn’t him. If you didn’t end up sprawled out on Simon’s bed, incoherently moaning words as he fucked you dumb in 30 minutes, you were both going to have an issue.

As expected, when he got to the top of the stairs, he turned right instead of left, going into his room instead of yours. His room was mostly untouched, the comforter a little crumpled from the time you passed out on it after taking one too many blinkers a few weeks ago (you’ve found you really like being in his room when you aren’t sober).

He shuts the door behind him and drops you on the bed on your back, further disheveling the dark gray comforter. You push yourself up onto your elbows, encouraged by the rustling of Simon’s belt coming undone.

“Get on the floor,” he tells you, “on your knees.” You make an absentminded noise in response and shuffle to the end of the bed, sliding off with relative ease. He tells you to do something else, but you’re too absorbed in your own world to hear him.

Simon walks towards you, hand resting atop your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he sits down on the edge of the bed in front of you. “Not fuckin’ listening to me anymore, huh?” His grip on your hair tightens and he moves your head back and forth.

“You’ll fix that tonight, yeah?” He eyes you like a man starved, you can’t find the words to speak, nor can you move your head under the grip he has on your hair. He seems to take your silence as a ‘yes.’

Your eyes roam to his torso, to which part of you is disappointed by the presence of his shirt. Then, you look further down to the very obvious tent in his briefs. Your head goes to move closer on instinct, but Simon holds it back.

You struggle against his hold for a few seconds before sighing and giving up, looking up at him with a frown. He looks down at you, a cocky smirk adorning his lips.

“You need to learn patience,” he grumbles, pushing your head to the side and retracting his hand to move the waistband of his underwear.

Your head returns to its original position almost immediately, anticipation coursing through your body. You’re basically salivating at the thought of having Simon down your throat.

In all honesty, Simon should be grateful you were taught manners at a young age, because otherwise you would’ve slapped his hand away the second his head popped out of the dark fabric and taken him all for yourself.

In substitute, you shuffle closer to him, knees scratching against the carpet.

Simon pulls his cock out, finally, and gestures for you to have your way. You pounce on the opportunity, hands flying up from your sides. One settles on his thigh as a support as the other slips down, thumb pressing against the tip. You can feel Simon jerk under you from the contact, and it only makes you dart forward and press your closed lips to the side of his cock.

You part your mouth and flatten your tongue against him, dragging it upwards until you reach the head again. You let your mouth part further and take him in slowly, teasingly.

Simon’s hand grips your hair, pushing your head further down on his cock. A low groan escapes his throat as you take him in your mouth and his fingers twitch in your hair.

He bucks his hips up, watching as you take all of him in diligently without even so much as gagging. He doesn’t expect anything less from you. He keeps an even pace until the need gets to him, until the haze ends and he remembers why he has you on your knees; why he’s not supposed to be nice and even.

He picks up his pace, rutting into your mouth quicker than you can take, leaving you gagging on his cock as he holds your head in place. Your moans turn staccato, the sound of Simon’s balls slapping against your chin falls behind your stifled gagging. It’s a rhythmic disaster, but fuck, it’s music to his ears.

At some point, he stops thrusting into your mouth and simply pistons your head up and down his cock with a hand. You’re nothing but a drooling mess, looking up at Simon’s face through your eyelashes, blinking through tears. He appears to be the polar opposite of you. His eyes are calm and his lips are settled into a thin line; the only thing that lets you know he’s relishing in this is the twitching of his cock down your throat and the low groans he lets out occasionally.

That is, until his jaw sets and his grip on your hair gets tighter. His other hand takes a fistful of your hair as well and holds your head in place again, his hips thrusting forwards and retracting faster than you can even react to. Your hands fly to his thighs, nails digging into the denim as he ruthlessly ruts into you. You’ve given up on trying to breathe.

Simon’s mouth opens slightly, a shuddered breath tumbles out and your lips quirk up ever so slightly. “Fuck,” he hisses, dull fingernails scratching your scalp in a mind-numblingly good way. He bucks into you harshly, then again, and a groan feathered by pants fills the air as cum drips down your throat.

His cock is heavy on your tongue as he pulls out and you’re quick to dart back to it and lick small beads of cum off head. His torso spasms at the action and his hands yank you back by the hair. You whine, trying to wriggle loose of the iron grip the man has on you, but stop once he lets go.

Through labored breathing, he tugs you off of your knees and pulls you up to him. He falls back onto the bed, taking you down with him. You quite enjoy straddling over him, breasts dangling below you as your hands press into the mattress on either side of his head.

You give him a stupid smile, “out of breath, big boy?”

He scoffs at you, the only evidence that he just came in your mouth is his lack of a boner. “Don’t say things you’ll regret, love.” The pet name sends a swarm of butterflies to your stomach, (rather, your ovaries). His hands come out of nowhere, grabbing your wrists and holding them behind your back, suspending you in the air over him. “Don’t think I forgot what you like,” he muses, “what a slut.”

His eyes gloss over you, when he gets to your skirt and fishnet tights, he frowns. “Told you to take ‘em off,” he mutters, moving so that both of your wrists are held in just one of his hands. It’s both a blessing and a curse that he’s built like a tank. His free hand snakes down and tugs on the edge of your skirt, making you splutter out a few words of warning.

“Let me undo it,” you plead, “you’ll break it.” He looks at you unimpressed as you try to get him to not ruin your favorite skirt. He relents, miraculously, and maneuvers you to straddle over his thighs. You don't bother trying to take your time as you undo the inner clasp of your skirt before unzipping it. Your right hand grips his as you shift your weight onto your right knee while the left hand pulls the skirt off of you, then vice versa.

Simon’s patience runs thin when it comes to your fishnets, and pushes you down onto his chest by the shoulders. With your ass in the air, he simply rips the fabric until he’s satisfied. Now you’re even more horny, but you also have a giant hole in the crotch area of your only pair of fishnets.

He makes a noise somewhere between a grunt and an appreciative noise. “Better.” His fingers brush over your underwear, letting out a quiet laugh at the damp fabric. Your hips jerk against the ginger touches from his hands, making him pull his hand away.

A whine breaks through your throat, your lips pulled down into a pout. His eyes flick to yours, the look sending shivers of ecstacy down your spine.

“You don’t deserve that,” he murmurs. “Come on, you know the rules.”

You give him a pleading look, eyes straining to see his from your face-down ass-up position. “Please?” You know it won’t work, his resolve is entirely too strong to be folded by the likes of your begging.

You get your answer as he grabs you by the waist and tosses you to the side. Faster than you can even make a remark at, he’s looming over you, hips trapped between his knees, dog tags dangling down.

“Don’t try to beg,” he chastises, voice low. A hand moves your soaked underwear to the side and he gently presses his tip against your pussy. It’s nothing but a tease, but it has you squirming for more, and there’s a vicious little grin on Simon’s face that sparks something in you.

He doesn’t bother to warm you up, and, really, you would’ve been frustrated by having his fingers stretching you out rather than his dick. Is that a safe sexual practice? No; but right now, you didn’t care about that, you just wanted to get dicked down.

After what feels like an eternity of teasing (in reality, likely just about five minutes), Simon finally pushes the tip of his cock into you. He pauses, then slowly pushes inch after inch into you until he’s balls deep in you and you’re damn near rolling your eyes into the back of your head from the feeling of him.

It had been too fucking long since you felt him inside you, since he stretched your insides to fit his cock so perfectly that he mumbles compliments into your ears when he feels like being nice.

He stays buried inside your pussy and looks you in the eye, another challenge. “You wouldn’t let him do this, would you?” He asks, arms lifting off of your body to cross over his chest. “No,” he responds for you, his hands darting back down to grab your waist. “You’re mine.”

And, oh, that admission sends waves of giddy excitement through your body.

“And I’ll prove it.” It’s a rather ominous statement, but he doesn’t even give you the time to register that before he pulls out from you and slams right back in. Then again. Then again, and again, and again until a rough, even pace is set.

Even, however, is not what you wanted. You wanted rough, fast. You could mumble for him to go faster all you wanted, but Simon wouldn’t budge. If he wanted to, he could go as slow as he possibly could just to keep you frustrated.

But even Simon is only human, and he can’t resist the urge to rut into you with reckless abandon.

His hips jolt against yours, a muttered expletive turns into a pant of ‘fuck’ and barely contained groans as Simon all but slams into you. The sound of skin hitting skin accompanies the noises falling out of your mouth, Simon’s hushed tones, and the bed frames occasional creak to create a melody of pure lust.

You find yourself unable to hold yourself together any longer, thighs twitching and abdomen getting tighter as Simon continues to pound into you like there’s no tomorrow (would it technically be ‘no today?’ It is 2 in the morning, after all). You can’t even bring yourself to form the words before you’re cumming on Simon’s cock while it’s thrusting in and out of you.

A whine builds in the back of your throat, your legs tighten around Simon’s waist, trying to pull him closer into you as the heat builds in your abdomen. One of his hands lifts from off of your waist and runs through your hair.

“I can tell,” he manages to get out through almost undetectable grunts. “You’re barely hanging on, huh?” He’s taunting you. “Go on,” he mutters, shifting just enough for him to rub against you in an entirely new angle.

You make a collection of noises, a moan that devolves into a whimper, and eventually squeaks as Simon continues to fuck you through your orgasm until he eventually starts pouding into erratically, an uneven pace that only gets more and more mind-numbing until he’s pulled out of you and you can feel your lower stomach be painted with his own orgasm.

It’s just seconds later that he leans his head down and presses his forehead to your. A simple, but oh so damning gesture of intimacy. His breath puffs against your face, warm and quick, but you can’t help but lean into the touch.

🍒: @xaestheticalien @clear-your-mind-and-dream @stunkbiggu @abbiesxox @nijiru @lanu-la

#cod mw2 #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #mw2 x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x female reader #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley fanfic #simon riley mw2 #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader smut

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lycheedr3ams · 8 months

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Okay. I just had to tell you that the emotionally unavailable König piece stays on my mf*ing mind. I don't know how but you managed to stir a dragon or corrupt me, I don't know, I need therapy I know but I feel so addicted to that drabble. I've read it over and over again.

Like, the little details how he treats you purely professionally when you're not fucking, how he wraps himself with that condom every single time and doesn't even feel bothered, how he chooses solitude (or someone else who knows) over you whenever he wants, how he doesn't seem to even feel much of anything besides the occasional lust?! It's DEVASTATING and I'm frothing at the mouth. I need help haha

Oh and even the pic at the top, that lonely ethereal unseen message "I dream about kissing you often". Wtf dude. Jesus Christ.

Brilliant. I'm just. Out of words. That drabble is art, thank you for sharing ❤️❤️‍🩹❤️ (Also please wish me a speedy recovery)

i think you have just melted my heart❤️❤️❤️

it is a huge compliment for me when people say they reread my fics. this ask has given me inspiration to do a drabble of the situation from könig's perspective.

warning: this may break your heart too...

part 2 of Relapse

part 3

TW: mentions of NSFW below the cut, self-hatred, könig being kinda toxic, brief brief mention of self harm, mentions of canon-typical violence, obsessive!könig, MDNI and just block me atp

the moment könig laid eyes on you, the task force's incredibly skilled - and beautiful - sniper, he hated you. or rather, he hated how much he was obsessed with you. he wasn't stupid; he knew how all the men on base would stare at you, the way they'd talk about you as you walked by, not even realizing how good your ass and hips looked in your uniform cargo pants. but unlike most guys on base, he saw more than just your curves and feminine charm: he saw a soldier who gave her all to get to where she was, a soldier who dedicated her entire being to her profession and was damn good at it.

unlike him, you never so much as moved a muscle when you lay prone with your sniper rifle. you never fumbled while you reloaded or looked around anxiously, fiddling with a knife so your hands never felt empty. you interacted with others with ease, never seeming to second-guess your words or demeanor. you were the best shot on the task force (don't tell ghost, though), you had the best concentration, and you were irreplaceable. sure, könig was irreplaceable too: no one had his aura, his physical prowess, or his intensity that made enemies flee the moment he saw them. but to könig, that didn't matter: you were everything he could never be.

he knew - thought - that he had no chance with you. you were secretly desired by almost every man on base, so why would you choose him? the jittery and intense newest addition who was just a little too tall, who fidgeted a little too much, and whose accent, he thought, was a little too thick to be alluring. but he also just hated you. hated to see a little woman like yourself literally living his dream of being a sniper. he was usually assigned to guard you when you lay prone while sniping on a mission, and when könig was sure you weren't paying attention, he would glare angrily at you, staring daggers into the back of your head. his eyes would lazily take in your body, but not in a lustful way. könig hated how still you could lay, how you could just concentrate simply on what was through your scope rather than what was in your mind.

but könig couldn't deny the part of himself that just simply wanted to take you. despite how much he hated your skill, he couldn't deny your soft curves, your pretty smile, or how you always wore your favorite perfume when off duty. many nights when könig lay alone in his room on base, he would furiously jerk off the thought of you while clenching his teeth in self-hate, absolutely disgusted with himself for desiring the person who was everything he could never be. könig also hated the way he would come so hard to the thought of forcing you on your knees, making you take all of his throbbing cock in your mouth, fucking into your throat roughly, punishing you for being the soldier he could never be. he loved to imagine the tears that would spring in your eyes at the burn of his thick cock stretching your throat. but worst of all, könig hated himself for wanting to ruin such a pretty little thing like you.

that was, until you began talking to him. the first time you approached könig, you said you were curious about his knives. he froze, thankful that his sniper hood hid his almost blushing cheeks and agape mouth. but könig couldn't help the excitement of your question. someone was interested in something he liked? with quiet, jittery movements, he quickly took out one of his favorite knives from a pants pocket and shoved it almost right in your hands, talking about it wildly in german before you looked up at him with a confused smile. he blushed under his hood and began to speak calmly and quietly in english about his favorite knife that you now held in your small, soft hands. even when you handed the knife back to him after learning all about it, the warmth from your skin lingered on its cold hilt. könig's eyes widened slightly when he felt just how warm it was, and he couldn't help but wonder what other parts of your body were just as warm, or even warmer.

könig began to grow more and more at ease the more you approached him. the night that your conversation ended up with you naked on his bed, he truly thought he was living a dream. the way your soft, feminine curves lay on his bed in his room, how you looked like an absolute goddess surrounded by his knives and guns lying around, was mesmerizing to him. his hatred of you be damned, könig needed you. so he took you just like you wanted and craved.

but even though you had willingly spread your soft, wet folds for him, könig could never bring himself to voice his desires for you. so the next time he saw you in the hallway, his eyes widened as he slowly approached your form, unaware that he was behind you. könig tried to open his mouth to say something - anything - but his mouth went dry and his throat tightened. so instead, he decided to gently cup your waist as you walked past, and went right towards his room. you smiled to yourself and followed him. könig was grateful that no words were needed between you two.

but despite how much he loved being able to be so close to you, to touch you, to be inside you, he could never allow himself to get too close. könig would've rather slit his own wrist than kiss your glossy, warm lips. you were a succubus, he was convinced. if his lips touched yours, he would have been yours forever. and that was something he could not have, no, not with how his hatred for you still lingered in the back of his mind. but the way you'd look sad about his lips never touching yours would make his heart twitch, just a little. some nights könig was so desperate to feel your skin on his tongue that he would gently lick your neck or your breasts, just to get a taste. but könig was used to living without the things he wanted.

there were many nights when könig was too deep within his darkness to reach out to you. he couldn't bring you down into his self-loathing spiral, or show you his weaknesses. on the nights he walked by you without even acknowledging your existence, he simply couldn't bring himself to look at you. if he did, he knew he would budge instantly and gently touch your waist once again so he could take solace in your warm, soft walls. but no, he would rather drown himself in the abyss of his heart than bring you down with him. you had things to live for: friends, family, incredible skill. but könig only had his guns, knives, and a large hand to wrap around his aching length. he never slept with another woman on base. but you were not to know that.

even more so, könig took to the box of condoms like a lifeline. if he kissed you, you'd have his soul. but if he allowed his cock to be fully surrounded by your warm, wet walls? no, no. you would've tied him to you for eternity. that was something that könig could not have, no matter how much he wanted it. he always made sure that condom was on perfectly, making sure that not a single inch of the skin of his cock ever completely touched your walls. even when he would tease the tip of his cock on your clit, there was a layer of thin plastic separating you. (he just loved the way you would gasp and blush when he did that). könig would never allow himself to truly take absolute pleasure in you, no matter how badly he just wanted to fill your womb entirely with him when your legs were pried open perfectly against his broad shoulders, with his sweaty forehead pressing into the mattress.

but as your relationship - if it could be called that - went on, könig realized that he never hated you. he only hated himself for never being able to be the person he wanted to be. you were everything, and he was nothing. you were caring, friendly, warm. but he saw himself as distant, cold, and aloof. sunshine could never reach the deepest, darkest caves under the earth, he thought. what could könig even say to you now, after you two had been with each other time and time again? what could he possibly say to the woman who unknowingly ripped apart old wounds he thought he had stitched? what could he say to the woman who achieved everything he could not? what could he say to the only woman who had ever shown him kindness, the only woman to have ever let him touch her, hold her, fuck her? so, könig opted to only ever say things to you that were necessary to work with you. he could never treat you poorly, not after the way you unknowingly healed the very wounds you created for him, not after the way you welcomed him into your body like he was an extension of yourself.

it was easier for könig to pretend that you weren't somewhat emotionally dependent on him. he could never pluck the flower whose roots were shallow. he was a monster enough as it is, but to just trample and rip up an innocent and beautiful thing? even he couldn't bring himself to do that. so, könig tried to water you in the only way he knew how, but he guarded his life-giving waters from your fertile womb, and only ever teased you with the nutrients you needed. it was enough to make you come back for more whenever he asked for it, but he couldn't allow himself to take advantage of you, too much. könig wanted to see you grow and blossom, not to be the one to dry you out and wither you.

so könig chose to edge you with his affection whenever he chose, and hoped that you would understand. he hoped that you wouldn't grow tired of the balm he offered you on the nights that he was able to crawl out of himself; the balm that was covered in blood and semen and tears.

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peachesofteal · 10 months

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Simon praising Darling for being a good girl when she announces she’s pregnant 😮‍💨 like I’m sorry sir, who gave you the right to be so damn hot when you’re FICTIONAL?!

And Darling is just confused af about wtf he means. Like does she ever find out they fucked with her BC and knocked her up?? I must know, I must have more 😈🤭

He's like, 'you've done so well, darling' and she's like 'wait, what the fuck just happened?'

AU - not canon for Dead Disco Warnings-tags: 18+ Minors DNI. Brief mention of smut, mature themes. Angst. Vomiting. Doctors. Pregnant reader. Relationship issues. Dark themes.

"I've got ya." Johnny coos while he rubs your back where you are kneeling over the toilet, breakfast and bile coming up your throat with every other heave.

"I hate this." you moan between pants, propping your arm up to rest your head. He clucks his tongue, standing to run a cloth under the sink and returning to press it to your forehead gently. It's cold, and soft, and moving in easy circles.

"I know, darling. I know." You push away, slumping into his arms, letting him cuddle you close while he leans back against the bathroom wall and you count his heartbeats from where your head lays on his chest.

The door creaks open, and Simon's halfway inside, peering down at the two of you, mild concern in his eyes while he studies your slouching form.

"Third time today." He notes with a frown, and you nod. They count, keep track of everything, so they can recall it for your doctor's visits and make sure everything is still within 'normal' range. Morning sickness, your doctor has assured them too many times to count, is very normal.

"Morning sickness, the nausea, vomiting, is all normal."

"She's sick multiple times a day." Simon grits out. Johnny shifts his weight nervously, while you sigh and pat his hand comfortingly.

"If we were seeing drastic weight loss, or the panels were coming back outside of normal range, I would be concerned. But that's not happening. So, you've nothing to worry about." You give her a relieved smile, and hope they'll actually listen this time, although you know it's kind of pointless. "So," she claps her hands, and then motions to the table, and Johnny visibly brightens. This is everyone's favorite part, the ultrasound. You always glue your eyes to the screen, holding you breath to see the baby, the little blob in black and grey, your own little bean. You're obsessed with the sound of the heartbeat, taking comfort in its strength, its steadiness. So much so you bought a fetal doppler, just so you could all hear it at home. "Should we take a peek?"

"I'm fine." you assure him, holding a hand out. "Help me up." He grips you by your elbow, pulling you to your feet and into him briefly, so he can nuzzle his nose into your hair with a deep breath. "Now get out, I'm gross. Need to wash my face." You insist, pushing both him and Johnny into the hallway playfully before closing the door.

You have a lot of drawers, in this bathroom. Almost all of them actually, and most of them are a bit of a mess, unorganized, things strewn about. Sometimes, like now, you have to dig around for things. You're looking for something specific, a heavier moisturizer, one that can combat some of the dryness around your nose. Your fingers flip through tubes and tubs and creams, old mascara and half busted hair clips. You tsk, irritated that you're having a hard time finding the blue jar, until-

Your fingers brush against your old birth control pack. Encased in a cream colored piece of plastic, little pills lined up in a row. Just the sight of it frustrates you. After so many years, it finally failed. Finally let you down.

You don't know, but you pull it out. Maybe to look at it closer, to see if it will be expired by the time you finally need it again, or maybe, just to look at the thing that was your one constant since you were practically a child.

Either way. You study it closer, and that's how you notice the corner of the pill tray. The little foil piece on the corner is lifted, just a smidge, just enough for you not to notice, but when you peel it, it comes away so easily, so perfectly, with minimal adhesive. Like's it been pulled away before and put back in place. Like it's been moved.

When you realize, the floor room spins. It shudders around you, bathroom walls curving closer and closer to where you stand in front of the sink, eyes wide, dumbfounded. They wouldn't. They wouldn't. Would they? You blink at yourself in the mirror. You look, tired, but mostly healthy, a true testament to absolute hovering that has been occurring in your life over the past five months. You never lift a finger, you don't want for anything.

Because you're pregnant.

Because you're pregnant, with their baby, that you thought you got knocked up with on accident.

Your stomach curdles. They did this on purpose. Your fingers clench against the stone of the sink while you remember, all those nights when they pressed you to the mattress and made you see stars, while they filled you with their come over and over, every day. They were actively trying. They wanted this. A giant black hole rips open inside of you. It sucks your joy, your happiness, your dreams of future into it immediately. It dismantles everything you thought you knew as truth, takes a hammer and smashes apart every single second of the last five months.

They took your choice away. You stomach flips, and the you’re flinging yourself back in front of the toilet, bile spewing on your lips while you dry heave. It burns, the sting matching the sear of the tears that track down your face.

How could they do this?

#dead disco #peaches asks #peaches writes #ghost x soap x reader #soap x ghost x reader #tw pregnancy #baby trap au

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