cupid !* @cupid-grl - Tumblr Blog

cupid’s blog 🐇

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 🗝️ cupid 🐈‍⬛: she / her , 20

* : this blog is 18+ , all works whether sfw or nsfw are catered towards a mature audience . minors & ageless blogs who interact will be blocked. *

: all my works can be found under the tag #cupid hour

🏹— recent work found here.

: messages are open for anything! fandoms range from cod, dbh, dracula (2025), antiviral (2012), byzantium (2012) (can you tell i’m hyperfixated on caleb landry jones teehee), etc. so— request away!

#simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #ghost call of duty #simon ghost riley #cupid hour #konig x reader #konig mw2 #konig call of duty #konig cod #cod mwii #call of duty #modern warefare ii #dbh connor #rk800 x reader #dracula 2025 #dracula a love tale #detroit become human

cupid-grl

sweetest thing

dracula x f!reader

cw: smut, vampire!reader except it’s not too vital to the storyline. tw for blood play & cunnilingus. minors DNI!

the cranking of the brass music box echoed in the dimly lit room, dancing in the aroma of roses, candlewax, and a hint of sage. warm light emitting from the fireplace embraced your figure as you swayed gently to the melody, eyes fluttering closed and arms moving with your body. the ajar window before you welcomed in a gentle breeze, and the full moonlight kissed your skin, basking it in a sheer glimmer.

it didn’t take long before your lips curved into a smile, eyes still closed as you could hear the approaching footsteps of your prince. you’d learned that the music box was a way of calling for him. and without fail every time, he came.

strong hands were quick to find their way to your waist, fingers carefully pulling your gown down so the prince could press his fingertips onto your bare skin, running down against the softness of your flesh.

“my beloved.” he mumbled, his lips brushing against the pulse of your neck. a hand crept its way up from your sides to the middle of your chest, until it wrapped around the curvature of your neck.

a hum escaped your lips, the vibration bouncing off onto his lips which gently planted kisses down your neck, his fingers curling into and slowly your gown down your shoulder, further exposing more of your flesh to him.

“i missed you today.” you whispered like a prayer, words turning into soft pants and sinful curses under hushed breaths as his lips latched onto your neck, teeth digging into you just enough to draw drops of blood. you were sweet, cold and a bit bitter. the price you paid for this new life, but your blood tasted divine to vlad. it was unlike anything he’s had before. it, unlike the blood of many, was addicting to him. his thrive and need for survival, he called it.

a whimper escaped your parted lips, your brows scrunching up in pain as your inability to hide your reocurring aches escaped. the prince was quick to draw back, turning you to face him swiftly. you took a quick breath, distracted momentarily by his appearance.

tussled hair that resembled the night sky, cold yet kind eyes that glowed amongst pale skin. he hadn’t gone out today, you took note, as he remained in his bedroom attire. he’d probably spent his afternoon within the castles confinement, seeking his own company every now and then.

his face read signs of worry, eyes drawn to your face, in search for any sign of pain or discomfort. cold hands reached the sides of your face, cupping your cheeks as his thumbs caressed your skin. “my beloved, did i hurt you? was i too rough this time?”

you shook your head, lashes fluttering as your eyes shifted down to his lips, your own turning into a slight frown. “no, my love, you did nothing. i started my cycle today.” you mumbled, your hands holding onto his forearms, thumbs mimicking the actions of his.

he sighed abruptly, a relief to his soul as the sole thing he feared in this world was hurting you. vlad placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, pressing it against his own. “my princess, how can i be of use to you? do you want me to make you feel better?”.

“hmm.. i have a few ideas. i don’t know if you’re willing, though..” you replied, adding the last remark as a means of teasing. through the pain, you somehow managed to find light in the situation. and your cycle never stopped the fire in the pit of your stomach from erupting into wild flames at the sight of your husband. your body, if anything, learned to crave him even more during this time of the month.

“you offend me, my darling, to think i wouldn’t go to the ends of hell for you.. anything you say, anything you want, it is yours. just say it.”

“anything?”

“anything, my wife.”

you looked at the brunet with a cheeky smile, eyes drawn to his lips which slowly revealed he had gathered an idea as to what you were implying. and in that second, his eyes seemed to glow in a new light. darker, with hunger, crave and desire. still, the adoration and admiration he held for you seemed to be permanently etched in his look, never undermined by anything other than that.

there were no more words that needed to be said, no glances to be exchanged any further. the count wasted no time in pulling your gown down until it fell flat onto wooden floor. vlad took a step back, a soft exhale leaving his parted lips as his eyes fell down with the robe. he basked in the beauty of your body, exposed to his hungry eyes. you took notice of the way his chest rised up and down a bit more rapidly than before. he always admired your naked figure as if it wash the first time all over again. and just like then, the shyness somehow never seemed to fade even with time. as you felt a sudden heat rise throughout your body, mainly lingering in between your legs, you were about to ask him if he was done staring, before vlad took a quick step in front of you and kneeled down.

“you are as beautiful as ever, so beautiful..” he whispered, audible enough for you to hear thanks to the breath you struggled to let out as he kissed your thighs, hands gripping at the plump of your skin. the sounds of his lips leaving wet spots all over your thighs was erotic, and was enough to have you leaking more than you already were. fresh blood mixed with your arousal, and the warmth and sweet aroma that hit vlad was almost enough to have him dig his face into your heat and devour you whole. but as greedy as he was, he was a gentleman. and in times like these when you were most delicate, vlad was extra cautious in attending to your needs.

your hips involuntarily bucked towards him, a sharp exhale leaving your mouth as your clit briefly met with the tip of his nose. you looked down, seeing the red now smeared on his face. the prince only smiled at you as he slowly inched his face closer to where you needed him most, tongue almost instinctively going to collect the blood that had begun to drip and bead at your clit. a groan echoed out from his chest, hands gripping tighter at your legs. you took notice of the way his brows furrowed in pleasure as he gently sucked at your pulsing heat, and the occasional bucking of his own hips suggested the confinement of his pants was easing his ache a bit.

the room filled with tiny gasps and groans, curses beneath shortened breaths and praises from vlad. your back arched off the cold wall, one hand gripping your husbands hair while the other laid flat on the wall, nails scratching at the surface. his tongue laid flat against your entrance, allowing the sweet mixture of your cum and blood to coat his tongue. he drew back, looked up at you with his crimson red tongue sticking out, and swallowed every drop without breaking eye contact.

“so good.” though muffled, you couldn’t help but let out a shaky laugh at his comment, followed by a sharp inhale as his tongue dipped inside you. his teeth carefully nibbled on your clit, nose pressed up against your skin, and all you could hear was the sound of suction and quick breaths he was making. you silently praised him, moving his stray hairs out of his face so you could both get a better look at eachother.

vlad’s eyes, usually a resemblance of the cold sea, looked up at you with a much darker hue. despite the moon's best attempt to illuminate his usually bright features, in this moment, he was a man surrounded by a sort of darkness that didn’t intimidate you. rather, it lured you in; and easily, you fell.

he was rabid, starved, wild in moments like these. the few times in which your body didn’t confine you in bed for hours in pain, you allowed him the pleasure of tasting you. and everytime, you were never one to regret it. as he increased the pace of his tongue dipping in and out of you, and the way his hands left a burning sensation in your legs from every squeeze he gave them, you couldn’t differentiate you cumming from you bleeding. you would never know and neither would he as both releases fogged up vlad’s head and sent signals to his groin that even the prince himself had a lack of control of.

“my prince, oh my–” you choked on your words, unable to form a coherent sentence as you felt the muscles in your lower stomach contract as you began to feel that all-too-familiar burning sensation creep up. you yanked him closer– if he wasn’t already – into you, lifting one leg up to rest over his shoulder. vlad’s hand ran up the smooth of your leg, and held onto the plump of your ass to help balance you, his free hand traveling up to the small of your back and embracing your invitation. his tongue moved in circles, occasionally dipping inside you, though he knew you were getting closer by the second, and he was determined to let you release as much as your body could handle onto him.

a small gust of wind emerged from the ajar window, sending a chill down your body which only seemed to further push you closer to the edge. throwing your head back and squeezing your eyes shut, an erotic moan erupted from your throat, and you bit your lip hard enough to draw some blood from them. tasting yourself, that was all you needed to buck your hips onto him one more time, before your legs nearly gave out on you had it not been for his immediate reach of your hips, which forced you to stay up. your hands gripped onto his wrists, feet practically floating up from the ground as you squirted on his face. vlad didn’t allow a drop to be wasted, his tongue quickly darting out and latching back onto your clit to consume every last bit of you. the scene alone would’ve had you going again, had it not been for the fact that your body had completely given out at that very moment. exhaustion, overwhelming pleasure, and ultimately no more fluids in you, limited your ability to continue. finally gaining the strength to tilt your head back down, you took a second to adjust your eyes to the darkness as the light helped you take in the sight before you. vlad gently kissed your throbbing clit before looking up at you, giving you his usual smile, pearly whites now coated with a bright red that smeared all along his mouth and nose.

“ah, let me help you..” he said in a matter-of–fact tone, as he stood up from his kneeling position, one hand remaining on the curve of your waist and the other now reached up for your face.

you had completely forgotten about the bite you’d given yourself on your bottom lip, until a gentle finger swiped over your lip and dipped into your mouth. you didn’t retaliate, humming as your taste mixed with that of his skin was savoured, tongue wrapping around his pointer finger. the two of you shared a look, smiling innocently at one another. your mouth made a pop sound once he freed his finger from your tongue, replaced by his lips.

the kiss tasted salty, with a hint of metal and honey. it wasn’t animalistic or rough, but gentle and warm; a contrast to the heated moment you two had just shared. as you parted, you now felt the drying of your own fluids staining your face.

“how are you feeling now, my beloved?” he whispered, tilting his head as he caressed your wet jawline. his fingers carefully danced along your bone structure, as if his muscles were memorizing your face.

“wonderful, you made me feel so wonderful.” you responded, still in a daze and a state of utter relaxation and happiness.

“good, i hope to be of use to you more often. you are the sweetest thing,you bear a fruit more savoury than any garden has ever seen.”

(a/n: guys.. it's been a minute since i wrote anything. if this sucks no it doesn't, no it doesn't.)

sweetest thing

dracula x f!reader

cw: smut, vampire!reader except it’s not too vital to the storyline. tw for blood play & cunnilingus. minors DNI!

“you offend me, my darling, to think i wouldn’t go to the ends of hell for you.. anything you say, anything you want, it is yours. just say it.”

“anything?”

“anything, my wife.”

“ah, let me help you..” he said in a matter-of–fact tone, as he stood up from his kneeling position, one hand remaining on the curve of your waist and the other now reached up for your face.

“wonderful, you made me feel so wonderful.” you responded, still in a daze and a state of utter relaxation and happiness.

“good, i hope to be of use to you more often. you are the sweetest thing,you bear a fruit more savoury than any garden has ever seen.”

(a/n: guys.. it's been a minute since i wrote anything. if this sucks no it doesn't, no it doesn't.)

#cupid hour #dracula a love tale #dracula 2025 #dracula x reader #dracula smut #caleb landry jones #dracula #vampire x reader #vampire smut #smut #caleb landry jones fanfiction

the music of the night

phantom of the opera!dracula x reader

cw: this was a desperate attempt to be as movie accurate as possible in accordance to both the films timelines and plots. bare with me :’)

every ballroom attended, every society joined, and yet no trace of his beloved elisabeta. arriving at paris, france, vlad prepares for the celebration at the hotel du louvre: where his servant promised to return his lover back to him. in the midst of this, he decides to take one last stroll around the city of love.

——————

the paris opera house, 1889.

behind the opera house curtains was a surge of movement, a restless ambience filled with the hurrying steps of dancers, orchestra musicians dusting themselves and their instruments, seamstresses adding last-minute touches to costumes, stagehands peeping into the dancers fitting rooms and watching the ladies drown themselves in cheap beer those pervs would sneak in for them. everyone had their own place, their own duties and groups. no body laid still, as the opening night would be nothing short of chaos in the opera house.

you were a performer amongst the sea of other dancers. young, full of life, and a captivating beauty that drew you plenty of attention. in and out of the establishment, all eyes were on you no matter where you went. despite your humble background, daughter of a tailor who unfortunately passed when you were younger.

your father was a kind man, generous and honest. or so you were told, the memories with him faded with age. all you knew was the opera house and the ballet mistress, madame giry.

a poise, well-respected woman who kept the girls in check. she’d taken you under her wing and allowed you a comfortable life at the opera house, so long as you performed well as a dancer. not a job, she told you, just something to keep you occupied until you find your own path.

you were good at what you did, beauty aside. your image was alluring, your movements flowed effortlessly and you were a quick learner. a promising talent, very promising. all praises you'd received from madame giry and her daughter, whom you'd grown very close to since you met her at the age of seven, meg giry. with hair that shined like the sun on a warm day and honey brown eyes, she was a living angel in your eyes. the two of you rehearsed together, spent countless nights up and daydreaming about the futures you wanted for eachother. she hoped to find a wealthy man and have a family, you often said nothing.

"do you think you'll end the night empty handed?" the soft voice that emerged followed by the provocative language belonged to none other than meg, breaking you out of your dazed trance. taking your hand as you passed by the drunkards loitering the halls. you hadn't noticed you'd been positioned in the same place for a while, looking over the railing onto the first floor where the dancers stretched and laughted amongst eachother. maybe you were nervous, maybe you'd prefer to sleep in just this one time. maybe both.

"i think i'll end this night sweaty and tired, miss giry. and good afternoon to you, too." you laughed, following behind the blonde as you two hurried down the spiral staircase to join the rest of the ballet in their rehearsal.

the sun began to set as rehearsals went on, until madame giry dismissed the girls and suggested they explore the city, as tonight was the centenary celebration of the french revolution. paris was crowded, much more than usual. families gathered at the nearby festival, hotels were filled and the laughter of people echoed across the city.

meg accompanied you as the two of you left the opera house, the two of you changing into gowns suited for going out. her hand lost grip of yours as soon as you arrived at the festival. beaming lights and lively crowds, the alley was filled with tourists and families. the air smelled of cinnamon and hot chocolate, a warm and inviting scent.

your hand found comfort in gripping the handle of your black umbrella, fingernails tracing the textured grip around the bar. eyes searching endlessly for meg, you gave up and decided to enjoy the night alone. either way, you two were to report back to madame giry an hour before the opera house opened to the public once again.

one hour to myself, you thought. might as well make the most of it.

you started at the hot chocolate stand. the smell drew you to it, naturally, and you purchased a cup for yourself. two small marshmallows floated above the brown liquid, steam emitting from its surface and hitting your face. your eyes looked around, blinded by bright lights and colorful decorations scattered around the street. most of your time was spent at the opera house, in the dimly lit hallways and the small comfort of your shared room.

you received special privileges being so close to the giry family, you and meg were able to share a room. the rest of the ballet shared one room, which probably explained why you felt so astray from them. they were their own clique, their own kind of popular in their eyes. maybe it was envy of your skills, of your ability to perform almost effortlessly, of being able to dance with the wind. you were not blind to the fact that you clearly had more experience and talent than the girls. you weren’t one to brag, but they were some to bitch. that’s why you preferred having meg as your only companion. life was simpler that way.

—------------

the crowds did not surround him this time, they did not lay their greedy eyes onto his own that lacked life. the warm bodies he moved past were laughing amongst eachother, embracing one another and filling the atmosphere with a feeling vlad could only describe as a distant memory. no matter where he was, whether the skies illuminated rays of colors in the night, or the plains were covered in the brightest of flowers, he could not allow himself to enjoy any beauty in his life. for the beauty in his life died when elizabeta did, too. for now, his body devoid of life roamed endlessly in this world. there was no peace on this planet he could find that would allow him the chance at moving on, not without her.

with a glimmer of hope in his heart, vlad continued on his stroll, hoping this would ease his nerves before he returned to the hotel where him and his lover would possibly reunite.

the smell of fresh baked goods could not mask the warm, iron-like aroma that filled his nostrils, being so close in proximity to people. it was nice blending in, not being fawned over or condemned. it allowed vlad the opportunity to bask in the moment, to allow his mind to lower its volume and just be.

“forgive me!” a soft voice erupted the silence in his brain as a strange body nudged against his, followed by the gentle caress of a hand on his bicep. eyes narrowing down to meet the owner of such melody, his eyes met with yours. dark, ominous, you couldn’t quite tell what it was in his look that sent a warmth to the core of your stomach, and an everlonging feeling for more. but more of what?

“you are forgiven.”

his voice bled thick of a romanian accent. it was deep, alluring. the words, only kept brief, rolled off his tongue like a purring cat. his lips curved into a barely noticeable smile, so subtle you wouldn’t have noticed it if he hadn’t perked his head to the side, eyes now glaring down your frame. he looked at you with softer eyes than you've experienced, after years on stage, at the eyes of lustful men.

his lacked that; they held something kinder, purer. it was as if the longer he stared at you, the more he would learn about you. and yet, he didn't. it unnerved you what he was thinking, why he made you feel a familiar yet distinct warmth in your heart you couldn't recall ever feeling. he himself didn't understand why he swore he felt his heart pulsing 400 years later, and why it felt like how it used to around his first and last love.

you were no extraordinary being, you were quite beautiful, vlad could admit that. you smelled divine, the blood pulsing through your veins didn’t pass him. your skin, surely made of the sweetest of sugar, was inviting; it was comforting, familiar. it smelled of a home he once had before his lover took it with her. she took the idea of permanence, of belonging, from his life. vlad was unsure why in this moment, though, he felt something similar to home standing in front of you.

a minute had passed before the staring grew too intense, and the silence between you two became almost unbearable. assuming you had bothered him upon accidentally bumping into him, you were about to bid farewell before he interrupted your train of thought.

“excuse me, i seem to have lost my mind and my manners. vlad the second, prince of wallachia,” his hand extended to grab the soft hand once on his arm, leaning his head forward ever so slightly and carefully bringing your hand up to where his lips brushed against your knuckles, “count dracul.”

his lips hovered there for a second longer, eyes peering up at yours as he placed a gentle, feather-like kiss on the back of your hand. his lips were cold but soft and gentle, like a snowflake had fallen on your bare skin and left a tingling sensation afterwards. it left you longing for another chance to feel his lips on you again.

it was intoxicating and unnerving how quick you were to find interest in this stranger. it was nothing like you’d ever experienced before. keeping yourself indoors for most of your life, surrounded by the same group of people, it was not often you had the chance to speak to a man outside of the stage crew or guests at the opera house. unless it was business manners, conversing with a gentleman was out of your norm.

you watched as he rose back up, straightening his posture and allowing your arm to fall back at your side. he guided your arm down before he realized he had been grabbing ahold of it the entire time, and let go. despite his touch being cold, your skin seemed to feel more exposed to the cold of the night the moment your contact broke.

clearing your throat, you introduces yourself and returned that subtle smile back to him. despite his striking beauty, you reminded yourself not to give in so easily. if you learned anything about men from the other dancers at the opera house, is that they are very good at using their charm to get their way. and you would rather die than allow yourself to fall victim to such tricks.

“now, what is a thing like you doing here alone? it is so easy for a flower like you to get lost in a crowd like this.” vlad did not know what possessed him in that moment to continue this interaction with you. he didn’t need the attention of another to occupy his mind, and yet he found himself indulged in this conversation.

“i’m enjoying the festival until i must return back to the opera house.” you weren’t sure what possessed you either, as you had no issue in blurting out personal details about yourself, completely ignorant to the fact that this total stranger could have ill intent towards you. That worry did not cross your mind once during this time, he didn’t seem the type. didn’t feel the type.

“ah, you are a ballet girl.” his tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth, a proper smile forming on his pale lips. a pair of lips you caught yourself staring at for a second longer than you intended, a stare that he was not blind to.

“yes, sir, i am.” you nodded, flustered at the way his discovery seemed to satisfy something within him. “tonight we open the opera house with the very first performance of the season.”

vlad stayed silent for a second, and an unreadable expression came across his face. as if he was pondering, all whilst examining you. eyes tracing over your features, down to the way your hands found comfort yet again playing with the handle of your umbrella that rested in front of your hips. he was unnerved by the thoughts that raced through his mind. you had just met, and yet he already contemplated taking your comment as an invitation.

it was a gesture of kindness, an opportunity to indulge in art before he continued with his plans for tonight. he would not allow himself to be distracted, especially not tonight. but seeing you perform for a bit wouldn’t cause any harm. or so he thought.

“well, i wish you the best of luck with your performance. it was a pleasure meeting you.” his hand grabbed the front of his top hat, his free one gently tugging at the front of his black coat as he bowed, taking one last glance at you before giving you that soft smile and walking away. you stood dumbfounded, eyes still staring at the spot he once occupied, before you turned your head to look for him. and in a matter of seconds, he had vanished. and though he was physically no longer in view, you found yourself still feeling the lingering of his gaze on you throughout the night.

—-

carlotta, the leading soprano of the house, quit right before the doors opened. you had arrived through the back entrance when madame giry stopped you once you reached rhe stage to join the rest of the dancers for a quick debrief. you heard the voices of people arguing as you grew closer to the scene, overhearing something about carlotta complaining about things happening, and her refusing to perform until said things stopped happening.

the redhead was always complaining about something, so it came as no surprise to you that tonight was her breaking point. you were too busy watching as she stormed off to notice that two older gentlemen were arguing over who would replace the soprano, if they would have to refund a full house. until madame giry’s voice interrupted the tense moment, suggesting you could sing for carlotta.

“what- the chorus girl? don’t be silly.” the shorter grey haired man scoffed, facing away in frustration at what he assumed to be a joke.

“let her sing for you, monsieur, she has been well taught.” madame giry insisted, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. you looked at her, then the pair of men standing before you. a sigh emerged from the brunets mouth, before he threw his hands up and exclaimed.

“fine, fine!”

tonight, you wore a costume different than you were ever used to. a white, off the shoulder sparkly gown adorned your body, flower jewelry falling down your hair like raindrops. the stage lights were shining down at you, and only you.

the roaring of applauses echoed in the grand house, flowers being thrown at your feet. and for the first time, you felt seen. tonight was the most cherished you’d ever felt, ever since the interaction you shared with the prince. his lingering gaze still burned like a fire in your mind, it almost troubled you during your performance.

madame giry accompanied you to your dressing room, belonging to carlotta, before she left the house in a fit. upon entering, you were met by dozens of bouquets scattered on tables, chairs, and the vanity across the room where your reflection stared back at you.

the older woman congratulated you once more, before giving you privacy. your feet mindlessly found themselves walking to sit at the vanity, eyes still captivated on your gown. your hands placed on your lap, your fingertips danced along the knuckles of the hand that was caressed earlier. your eyes closed momentarily, basking in the scent emitting from the fresh flowers besides you. envisioning the brief interaction you shared with the prince, your fingers were replaced by his lips in your mind.

a sudden draft of breeze made you shudder, eyes opening to look at the reflection behind you. the window that was usually kept locked was now cracked open, the whistling of the wind filling the silent space. the candles lit and placed around the room flickered, dancing and casting shadows on the decorated walls. you stood up, brows furrowed as you reached to close the window and lock it, staring out at the busy city. you thought about the encounter

once more, before brushing it aside.

turning around, you shrieked as the man from earlier had appeared just where you were sitting, hands folded in front of him. that damned smile was plastered on his face, and despite the circumstances, he looked just as good as you remembered.

“you! how- how did you get in here? don’t take another step or i’ll scream! ” your voice caught in your throat as you placed a hand on your rapidly beating chest, staring at the intruder in disbelief.

“don’t be afraid, i mean no harm.” his voice was sincere, soft, like it was a few hours ago. his hand rested above his heart as he began to take small, calculated steps towards you. “i merely came to congratulate you personally for an exquisite performance.”

“you…” still unable to formulate any coherent words, you looked away, lashes fluttering as if to clear your vision from the hallucinations you were sure you were experiencing.

“my apologies for scaring you, the door was unlocked and i forgot to knock. please forgive me.” vlad stepped closer once more, now only a few feet of space dividing you two.

you had so many questions, yet your brain fogged up in that very moment as you looked up at the prince. he had that same look in his eyes as he did earlier. you couldn't understand why he seemed so keen on studying you. it made you uncomfortable, though not out of discomfort, but rather his staring made you awfully self-conscious.

vlad's mind couldn't help but see your face and elisabeta's, like a glitch in his vision that would warp both your faces into one, then two, then one. his mind and his heart fought a silent interal battle, a battle in which his beloved and the new beauty before him took control of his mind.

he then remembered maria told him to meet at the hotel at 10 sharp. the brass clock resting on the dresser besides you warned him.

09:51.

he did not leave. this would trouble him later on. yet, that was a problem until then.

“thank you.” your voice faded into nearly a whisper, unable to look away from his face. in the candlelight, you were able to see a faded scar running down the right side of his face, beginning underneath his eye.

“your voice, it was like a liquid sunlight during cold winter nights like these. i am glad to have seen you tonight.” it was almost like a confession he dared not to admit. it felt wrong, experiencing these feelings of need and want for another body. another soul. it felt even more wrong that you had managed to let elisabeta slip from his mind for the first time in 400 years of longing.

vlad took another stride at you, his hand subconsciously moving up to reach your jaw, a gentle caress of his thumb tracing over your skin. you did not look anything like his beloved, you were a different kind of beauty. not one that replicated that of elizabeta, for nobody could replace her. though, yours was, too, irreplaceable. it was haunting, haunting him for his inability to control such feelings. this craving that he had not felt since he became condemned from death finally resurfaced and nestled at your feet.

your eyes trailed down to his parted lips, unaware of the space between you two slowly closing in. you felt like you were no longer in your body, like your soul was stuck somewhere in limbo and his body was this magnetic force, and you could not stop yourself from moving closer to him. your faces, only inches apart, and lips close enough to eachother that a slight shift from either of you would give you the satisfaction you’d yearned for all night.

"i have a feeling this won't be the last i'll be seeing of you."

#cupid hour #dracula a love tale #dracula 2025 #count dracula #dracula x reader #phantom of the opera #vampire x reader

vampsstan

obsessed with his sad eyes

cupid-grl

need him on a level beyond unholy

cupid-grl

18+ mdni this is filthy and disgusting. mentions of period blood + cunnilingus (you know where i’m getting at)

könig is a whore for the divine waterfall between your legs. absolutely no force in the whole world could stop him from devouring your nectar whenever he feels like it.

and that doesn’t exclude when you’re on your cycle. god no, if anything it fuels him. that humid scent radiating off you, pheromones attacking his nostrils like a drug. this is when you’re at your most raw, most feminine. it’s just so you, it brings him weak to his knees.

he’s having to beg for you to let him eat you out, despite you barely being on your second day of your period and it’s like a crime scene down there. nonetheless, your excuses fall deaf to his hears. all he can think about in that pretty, sick head of his is your sweet cum mixed with your bitter blood pooling his mouth and that’s good enough for him.

next thing you know könig’s ripped the blanket covering his personal altar you hold between closed legs, prying them apart with a quick nudge of his elbow as his thick fingers hook around your panties, mouth immediately latching onto your already leaking bud. teeth digging into your hardened pearl as his tongue darts out to collect your sticky residue followed by the bright red liquid flowing out of your cunt. the sounds he’s making are raw, hungry and disgusting. your hands cover half your face in shame, utter embarrassment as all you can do is moan out his name like a weak prayer.

könig knows he won’t be able to get enough of you tonight, willing to go on for hours lapping at your dripping folds, panting and groaning against your sensitive pussy while his hands knead at the flesh of your thigh. the cocky bastard will only pull away from your soaked cunt to look up at your fucked out face, giving you a teethy smile with blood coating his white pearls and dribbling down his chin.

icedheartss

I think I have a type . . .

felrija

Give me a chance

cupid-grl

18+ mdni.

simon “ghost” riley is absolutely the type of man to fall asleep while giving head.

dooon’t care what anyone else has to say. i know he’ll come home, exhausted and sore everywhere. he doesn’t even have the energy to pound his meaty cock into your tight little precious cunt. all he can think about is having you lie back, and bury his head deep into the softness of your thighs and eat you whole.

he’s lapping at your folds like a starved man, those half lidded eyes looking up at you as your face is glistening with sweat and your cheeks are all red and hot. his hands grip onto the sides of your ass so tight you wanna cry but he feels so good, you can’t tell him to move. he’s too pussy drunk to realize his grip is gonna leave purple hand marks on you tomorrow.

and you’re so focused on trying to reach your high, that when you finally look down the valley of your stomach, realize that simon had stopped working his skilled tongue on your pussy. his eyes closed, lips squished between your folds and he’s.. snoring?

poor baby was so tired, he tried to please you and himself the best he could. but you were so soft and so warm he couldn’t help but doze off on the comfort of your warm, wet pussy.

but don’t worry because when he wakes up, still half asleep, he’ll lazily begin drawing circles around your swollen clit with his warm tongue, before the twitching inside his trousers wakes him up and he’s back to tongue fucking you so good.

cupid-grl

casual

mdni.

with simon’s head so deep in between your legs as his tongue savors every inch of your arousal, you can’t help but feel so in love.

so in love with the way he caresses the sides of your thighs, squeezing them against his face.

so in love with the way he’s humming praises against your soft flesh, planting kisses on your inner thigh every now and then.

so in love with the way he looks up into your fucked out eyes, a small smile forming on his lips as he continued his attack on your sensitive clit.

you can’t help but fall in love with him. and that was your first mistake.

with your bodies so close together, pressing your back far into the passenger seat as he’s kneeled before you. you’ve never felt so intimate, so close to him.

with your free hands intertwined, he begins tracing soft circles on the back of your hand. he’s so gentle and so sweet with you, you almost forget you aren’t anything at all. just friends, he said. nothing more than that.

you don’t realize tears begin blurring your vision, and you don’t realize they’ve began to fall down your rosy cheeks until simon looks up at you, stopping for a moment.

“you okay, love?” he asks, placing a soft kiss on your inner thigh, one hand still caressing your side with the other still holding your hand.

you quickly wipe your tears away, offering him a small smile as you look down at him.

“mhm, jus feel so good, baby.” you reassure him, lying through your teeth. and he seems too lost in the moment to realise how bad you suck at lying.

he simply kisses your thigh again, continuing his assault on your clit. at this point, you aren’t sure if you can still focus on your building climax. your moans turn into soft breaths, which later turn into forced moans as you pretend to reach your high. you’ve never had to fake your orgasms with him, and this time he didn’t seem to notice anything different about it now.

the silence in the air is deafening, as he moves over back to the driver seat, sighing as he cleans his face off with a rag he had laying around. you watch as he cleans up your love from his face. he offers to take you home, to which you reply with a weak smile .

"can we just sit for a while?” it felt almost humiliating, like you were begging for just a moment of his time. sitting in here, just the two of you, no strings attached.

"i got work in the morning, lovie. how 'bout tomorrow we stay out longer, 'ey?" his voice is so sweet and condescending, like he's just desperate to get you out of his car. after all, your job here was done. you'd forgotten that after all the sweet talk in bed, or all the sweet talk he'd throw at you with his head buried in your legs, it was all just something in the heat of the moment.

he could tell from the frown on your face and the slight scrunch of your nose that you were disappointed. sighing, he threw the rag in the backseat, turning the car ignition on as the engine started. it was the only sound filling the awkward silence, his hands gripping the steering wheel as he stared intently outside the windshield. neither of you spoke a word.

"why don't you see yourself with me?" you spoke up, your words heavy and filled with hurt. his least favorite version of you. the version of you that was hurt by his own feelings, the ones he lacked, the ones he couldn't change. not even for you.

"god, lovie, can we not? thought i made things clear last time, i 'ont wanna hurt you, i 'ont wanna lie to you, either." his voice was so harsh and cold, he couldn't even pretend to sympathize with you. though he was right, and that part hurt the most. he'd made it clear to you from your first time.

"i'm not lookin' for anything serious, you can back out if you want."

you still remember how naive you were, how stupidly you expected yourself to change his mind. after all the late night pillow talks, all the little dates he'd take you on before you'd end up in his bed, with him inside you yet you still felt so empty inside.

"same time tomorrow?" he broke the silence, backing out of the empty parking lot as he took a quick glance at you, pretending not to see the tears that yet again threatened to spill from your pretty eyes.

"mhm" you replied, as you ignored the growing lump in your throat and the sound of your voice cracking, betraying your attempts at remaining calm. like none of this bothered you at all.

and he said nothing as he began driving off, leaving behind the little bit of hope you had for either of you to have something meaningful. to maybe be anything other than a fling, a casual, meaningless fling.

"casual" by chapelle roan inspired this little thought and now i am so :( because this is so canon of ghost im sorry i love my men evil.

pink in the night

i think hopeless romantic simon isn’t appreciated enough on here. aside from being an abusive sex animal i strongly STRONGLY believe this man is an absolute dog for love.

given his childhood, love was something that he never really felt. never really experienced that motherly love from someone who only wanted to care for him. he didn’t really think he would ever get that, honestly. but then he met you and he felt like maybe he did have a chance at love.

simon riley who is so head over heels for you but is so scared of that. so scared of loving something and caring about someone so much that the thought of them not being in his life anymore is too much for him. he’s lost so much, he was always a man that never had anything to lose anymore. but now you’re here and he can’t risk losing this.

simon riley who is unsure of how to love right. who is scared that his touch will hurt you or scare you and push you away. who distances himself when he feels like you don’t want him around, like he’s being too clingy or too loud or too scary. he doesn’t mean to scare you, he’s just scared himself— of himself.

simon riley who had accidentally taken off his mask around you and all he could do was freeze up, didn’t even bother to pick up his mask as you stared at him in awe. studied him like art and devoted your life to loving all of him. made it your job to show him how beautiful he was as you kissed his face, with his consent of course.

simon riley who cried in your arms and apologised for being so vulnerable with you, and you cried with him because how could he be sorry for that?

simon riley who is scared of loving you, who is more terrified of losing you than death. losing you would be death itself.

simon riley who learns to love you via google searches and books he finds himself digging through for hours on end, because all he wants to do is love you right. to love right, for once.

simon riley who lives to love you.

#iamsosadandsolovesick #simonrileymybelovedsweetheart #ghost simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #ghost angst #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cupid hour

cupid-grl

rein raus

mdni.

“come on, meine liebe, take all of me.” groaned könig through labored breaths, low lidded eyes looking down at your fucked out body that laid beneath him. your shaky legs wrapped around his bare waist, his unbuckled belt still looped around his pants that fell just above his knees. tits bouncing with every slow thrust and coated in sweat, nipples hard from him occasionally squeezing and slapping them. your nails dug against the flesh of his lower abdomen, trying to pry him off you because it was too much. too much for your little cunt to handle his fat cock, which had been ramming into you for what seemed like an eternity now. pussy so bruised and your clit so swollen you felt like all you could do at this point was let out little gasps, throat dry and raspy from all the previous yelling you’d done.

your scratching didn’t seem to stop him, neither did the squirming around or the silent pleas for him to stop. it did quite the contrary. könig vowed to you and himself that unless the safe word was said, he wouldn’t stop ‘til your pussy was bleeding and all you could think about for the next week was the soreness of your pussy and his tip kissing your cervix with every slow, painful stroke.

“can’t take anymore, fuck i can’t.” you cried out, tears streaming down your rosy cheeks and falling down to your hair, mixing with the sweat beads that had already drenched the sides of your head. he ignored your pleas, ignored any slap or scratch or squirm your body made. he kept filling you up so good, you were thankful he didn’t listen.

you gripped onto the sheets of your bed, which had been squeaking so violently you were scared you’d break it like you did the last three beds. the wooden headboard smacked against the wall, and you’d prayed that everyone on base was dead asleep.

“look, meine mädchen, look at it.” his hands dug into the plump flesh of your hips, veins popping out as his grip only grew stronger. when you refused to look down, he inched his face closed to yours, foreheads touching as one hand reached to the back of your neck, gripping it as he pushed it to look between the two of you.

“look.” könig demanded as his thrusting came to a halt, and this time it didn’t seem like you had much of an option but to look. your eyes traveled down his bare chest, following his happy trail which led to the bush surrounding the base of his veiny cock. and with a pleased hum, he began to slowly move in and out of your drenched heat.

“rein.. und raus.” he moaned out, followed by a loud and throaty groan as his cock began to pump into you, making sure he went deep enough for his balls to slap against your ass every time. you two watched as the mix of both your cum left a trail from his soaked bush and your leaking cunt, the sound causing you to cringe. it almost embarrassed you how much of you had dripped onto him and down your ass, feeling a wetness puddle on the bottom of your cheeks.

you choked halfway through your moans as könig’s quickened his pace, moving away from your face and moving his hand from the back to the front of your throat, the curve between his index finger and thumb grazing your windpipe while the rest of his fingers squeezed the sides of your throat.

“feel all of me, meine hure.”

#stillthinkingboutthisugh #konig x reader #konig smut #konig mw2 #könig cod #cupid hour

rein raus

18+ mdni.

“feel all of me, meine hure.”

#könig cod #konig smut #konig mw2 #konig call of duty #konig x reader #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cupid hour

18+ mdni.

thinkin bout perv!könig who can’t help but feel disgusted with himself over the fact that he’s lusting over his friends daughter. she’s barely old enough to legally drink, and he was almost old enough to consider retirement.

he thought his growing desire couldn’t get any more serious, but oh he was so wrong.

whenever visiting your dad, he’d make sure to avoid all eye contact with you and greet you with a quick mumbled hello, austrian accent running thick in his voice. and then there’s you, so cheeky and welcoming. so eager to meet new people, so hospitable as the older man over a foot taller than you is barely able to meet your gaze.

and imagine how stiff he is in more places than one, when he feels your arms barely managing to wrap around his big muscular torso. you’re so touchy when excited, you can’t help it. he begs to any god that you can’t feel the growing tent beneath his cargo jeans when his eyes catch your pretty boobs squeezed against his chest. darkened eyes travel down the valley of your tits, whilst his face flushes red and he’s all hot and bothered. but all he can do is pat the small of your back as a way to reciprocate your affection, afraid of groping you while his friend is in the same room.

the cheeky smile you give him with those pretty doe eyes looking up into his own, trying to make out his features beneath the handmade veil draped across his head. but you can’t, though it doesn’t brother you. and you don’t dare ask him to lift it up, the last thing you’d wanna do is scare off your dads new friend.

and he’s so glad you can’t see the red, sweaty mess he is beneath it.

you’re just so caring, so inviting whenever you ask him to come into your room. so naïve and innocent when you sit him down on your bed and show off anything and everything in your room. it’s so pink, so pretty, so you. he says nothing as you show off the new skimpy dresses you bought yourself, thinking nothing of it when he asks if you can show him off.

let me see if it fits, might have to return it if not. just to be sure, he says.

and of course, you’re so excited and think he’s the smartest most caring man alive.

you change out of your regular clothes, leaving you in nothing but your underwear and bra as his eyes gawk at the sight of your exposed body. he can’t take his eyes off your pretty tits when you bend over, giving him a clear view of what they’d look like dangling above him. can’t keep his eyes off your ass as you wiggle your way through the variety of dresses you try on.

and when you ask for his help taking the dress off? oh he’s quick to stand up and unzip it, taking his time when it reaches just below your ass. his fingertips graze down the middle of your ass, accidentally brushing against your clothed cunt. he apologises right after, and you forgive him right away. silly könig and his slippery fingers! accidents happen, you remind him.

if it’s a movie night and your dads too busy to watch with you, don’t worry, because könig is quick to sit next to you on the couch.

can i watch with you, liebling?

and who are you to say no? you allow him to cuddle you from behind as you two try and lay on the small furniture. but he’s so big and muscular, you both struggle to fit so he suggests you lay on top of him. könig always comes up with a solution to everything, always so helpful with you.

you don’t question when he pulls you flush to his chest, telling you it’s to prevent you from leaning over the edge. your sweet, caring könig was only ever looking out for you.

and you don’t question it when his hand moves from the curve of your waist, down to the waistline of your shorts. where his fingers tug beneath the fabric, tracing alongside the hem of your underwear.

or when his hand manages to accidentally slip past your underwear, strong fingers finding their way to your already hardened clit, middle finger running down your soaked slit to gather lube up both his fingers. you don’t question it when könig begins circling your clit with his middle and index finger, his movements so soft and slow. you can’t help but quietly whimper at the friction, hips rocking against his fingers while he wraps his free hand over your mouth, gripping onto the sides of your face. poor perv!könig jus wants to feel how soft your clit is, to feel the warmth of your slick against his cold fingers. jus wants to feel all of you.

häschen, he whispers against the crook of your neck, followed by light kisses on your neck.

his throbbing bulge pressed against the plush skin of your clothed ass, hips bucking against the softness for any sort of relief. your eyes widen, and you can’t help but imagine how much better this would feel. he feels so big from behind, you’re almost scared of actually seeing it.

all you can do is cry out into the palm of his hands when his speed picks up and he sticks his two digits inside your aching cunt. the coils in your stomach begin burning and you can feel your arousal travel down to your core. you clench around his big fingers, squirting all over his hand and your leg, arousal dripping onto the couch.

the movie had finished by the time you did, credits rolling down the screen as you’re trying to catch your breath, while könig brings his glistening fingers up to his mouth and licks at your juices. he removes his fingers from his mouth with a pop, planting a kiss on your ear.

can’t wait for more of you he whispers as you both stand up, fixing yourselves as your dad walks in the living room, seemingly unaware of how your hair was messy and how the stitching of your shorts didn’t align right with your body.

könig excuses himself, announcing to your dad that he’ll be going now. your lips form into a pout, brows furrowing as the two men give eachother a side hug goodbye. könig turns back to look at you, and from the crinkle of the skin around his eyes, you can tell he was smiling at you.

you return it, and as he turns to leave, he speaks up one more time.

i will see you next week. and you know it was meant for you. you know he was meant for you.

a perv!könig who can’t wait for the next time he sees you.

#cod mw2 #könig cod #konig x reader #konig mw2 #konig smut #konig call of duty #cupid hour

18+ mdni.

simon “ghost” riley is absolutely the type of man to fall asleep while giving head.

poor baby was so tired, he tried to please you and himself the best he could. but you were so soft and so warm he couldn’t help but doze off on the comfort of your warm, wet pussy.

#wheresmysimonsigh #cod mw2 #ghost simon riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #simon smut #ghost smut #mw2 #simon ghost riley #cupid hour

casual pt.2

part 1 here

18+ mdni.

the past three weeks were the same. work, get off late, shower, get picked up by a very horny simon, either fuck in his home or in his car, and get dropped back off. it was a very simple routine you'd grown used to. neither of you brought up the conversation (if you could even call it that) from a few weeks prior. the following day he seemed normal, so normal it pissed you off more than anything. why wasn't he conflicted? why didn't he spend nights up late, crying into the pillow that smelled so much like cigarettes and pinewood, wondering what to do to be loved by the person he exposed himself the most to?

you'd never felt so used before. so worthless, with only one sole purpose. where the only time you felt close to him was when he was beneath you and his arms were wrapped around your body, where the only time you felt full of his love was when he stuffed your sore cunt with his aching cock. where the only time you could cry about him was when he was reaching your sweet spot so good, you almost completely forgot why you were even in his arms in the first place.

he'd feel warm tears land on his exposed, sweaty chest. and he wouldn't even mind it, assuming you were just feeling so good because of him. or maybe he did know, but he was too pussydrunk to stop and just hold you. why couldn't he just hold you?

simon was half asleep, laying on his bed stomach first and his hand dangling over the queen sized mattress. dark grey covers sprawled out messily across his lower half, a mix of sweat and your juices drying onto the thin material.

his eyes watched as you stood up, searching for the clothes he had thrown off you. you could feel his icy blue eyes piercing through your body, and you felt so naked in this moment. aside from the fact that you were literally nude, you felt so exposed. so alone, vulnerable. it was a nasty feeling you couldn’t get rid of, as you struggled to put your stretched out underwear on, watching as the lace on it that was once neat and sewn on, now ripped with a few strings of yarn hanging off the sides. simon never cared about being delicate with you, he couldn’t even spare your clothes.

your bra was next, followed by your similarly stretched out shirt and jeans. words weren’t exchanged between either of you, there was nothing to say.

this was how it was. after you had both reached your climax (you haven’t, not since that one stupid night), he wouldn’t say anything to you. whether you were changing into your clothes to leave, or he was dropping you off at home. he said nothing, a man of no words. and you didn’t once complain.

you walked up to the small mirror placed above his dresser, fixing your smeared lipstick and trying to detangle the knots in your hair, in a desperate attempt to look clean. the aftermath of your nights together always left you looking so fucked out, and it only made the pit in your stomach grow.

“you got a li’ stain back there.” simon mumbled, his face against the cold covers of his bed. you turned around to face him, he wasn’t even looking at you.

your hand reached to your calves, to where a few droplets of his cum remained. you hadn’t even felt it, it was almost fully dried down now. you weren’t sure why, but the feeling of the cum drying down and tightening your skin made you more upset than before. maybe it was the lack of aftercare, it was probably that. you can remember the only night he ever cared enough to take care of you after sex.

“did so good f’ me, love. i got you now, get some sleep.” simon whispered, his legs tangled with yours as he held you so close to the warmth of his chest. his warm covers wrapped around your naked bodies, his big hands hugging your body so close to him like he was afraid you’d go away if he didn’t. you were clean, well fed, and you didn’t even move a muscle.

you’d sworn you’d never felt so much love before. so much intimacy, you could cry. and you did. just a bit, before simon wiped away your tears, consoling you before you could start full on sobbing.

“you’re okay, love. so precious.” he chuckled, his face buried in the crook of your neck while soft kisses trailed down the curve of your neck and down your arm, his hands lifting it up as his mouth traveled all the way down to your fingertips.

and that night was the first and last night you meant something to him. it was good you didn’t get used to it, but it didn’t stop you from expecting that one day, he’d offer to clean up his cum from your face, or the curve of your back. it didn’t stop you from expecting a soft kiss on your forehead after he filled you so deep with false promises, with praises telling you how good you did and how much you mean to him.

"thanks." your voice was hoarse, you tried so hard putting on this nonchalant act that seemed to get you nowhere. you mirrored him, trying so hard to give the english man a taste of his own medicine. though he swallowed without a budge, disregarding the bitter taste on his mouth. he didn't care. not a care at-fucking-all.

there were no further words exchanged between either one of them, simon remained on his bed while you grabbed the remainder of your belongings and headed out the door, body limping from the harsh fuck you endured. he was so good at making you feel like shit, physically and emotionally.

and maybe it was the change of temperature in the air, or his cum still leaking from your sore pussy, or maybe it was the way you could still feel his mouthwash on your lips. you found yourself marching back to his door, knuckles banging against it a bit harsher than you intended to.

you could hear a groan and the heavy sounds of his feet hitting the wooden floor beneath him, as he swung the door open, the gust of air lightly hitting your warm face.

"forget somethin' ?" simon looked down at you, with that same stupid unreadable expression on his face. he remained shirtless, with his black boxers having been put on in a hurry as the lining of it was a bit crooked from his hips. his neck bruised up from your earlier assault, hair still all over the place from the result of your own hands. your lipstick still smeared on his own thin lips.

"yea- no. no, i didn't." you pushed past him, catching him by surprise as he stepped aside and shut the door behind him. your breaths became more unstable, your heart beating in your ears as you could hear a million tiny voices telling you to go.

run, you dumb bitch. there's no use in talking. run.

he sighed, already aware of what was to come as you sat on the edge of his bed with that all too familiar conflicted look on your face. your brows furrowed and your teeth nibbled on the inside of your cheek. simon didn't bother saying anything as he walked over to the corner of his room, mini fridge sat in the middle of the cold floor as he kneeled down, grabbing a water bottle. the sounds of his bare feet stomping around, and the creak of the armchair that remained against the wall across from you filled the silent space. simon spread his legs out just a bit, just enough to remind you of how it felt being in between them.

"i can't keep doing this."

"doin' what, love?"

"this, simon. you know what i'm talking about, you can't dance around the subject because i won't forget. i won't ever fucking forget."

"look, you're a sweet girl. you're fun an' all, but bloody 'ell you are so fuckin' annoyin' ." he laughed dryly, almost like he was mocking you. simon's patience seemed to run thin, as he stood up, walking over to you and towering your figure. in this moment, you'd never felt so small and defenseless before in your life. it felt like all eyes were on you, when it was just him and you.

"well i am really sorry, si. i'm sorry i want to be something other than a quick fuck, i'm sorry i don't wanna stick around waiting for the day you tell me i'm not just useful for only that." angry tears pooled in your eyes, and you didn't bother wiping them as they fell.

simon looked at you in a way where you swore he almost felt pity for you, and you'd rather not feel anything from him at all if it was just out of pity. he remained silent, looking at you with blank eyes. nothing was left in those ocean blue eyes.

"and i know you made it clear that we want different things, and i thought i'd be okay with that. and i know it's my fault for sticking around despite the fact that i'm just hurting myself in the end, but you're just at fault if not more. why couldn't you do the sensible thing and stop seeing me? stop coming back to me and treating me so good for a minute then leaving me to clean myself up and leave without a fucking goodbye?"

"a man has his needs, a'ight? i'm not gonna give up an opportunity to get a quick fuck. there, is that wha' you wan'ed to hear?" his accent ran thick through his words, which were coated in venom. each word was so enunciated, so harsh. it hit you like a ton of bricks, though your gaze didn't wander off and you didn't dare walk away.

"i really don't know what else i gotta tell you, love. this," he pointed at himself, then you. "isn't happening. not today, not tomorrow, not next fuckin' week and surely not the week after. you are free to stop talkin' to me because 'm tellin' you for the last time, i don't want you. i don't need you."

you really wished he lied. just this once.

salty tears streamed down your face and you couldn't do anything but stand there as he simply watched you. your sobs echoed in the room, and simon finally sighed, wrapping his arms around you.

"no use in cryin', it won't change my mind. 'm sorry, love, 'm jus' not the man for you. please understand that." he whispered against your forehead, planting a light kiss on the warm flesh. you wondered why it took you to be a sobbing mess in his arms for him to have a heart, but you didn't question it. you knew now, it was better not to question anything.

you didn't move away as he caressed the sides of your shaking shoulders, the flat of his fingertips rubbing circles on the warmth of your skin.

"i hate you for what you're doing to me." you'd cry, while simon gently kissed your hair.

"i know." he'd reply.

and that was the last time you ever spoke to simon. he didn't text you after, not to check up on you, to make sure you got home, not even to apologize. but what was there for him to be sorry for? he didn't lead you on, this was all your doing. it was your fault for staying and expecting for him to come around, to grow to love you.

you didn't text him, either. not to go off on him, to tell him how much he meant to you and to beg him to atleast try and feel the same. you didn't text him when you'd see him out in the city, hanging out with the group of people you met him through by the pier. you didn't text him when he started hanging out with a new girl, who seemed to bring out simon's genuine smile more than you ever did. you didn't text him to ask why he always had his arm around her when you saw them, you thought he hated pda, he told you so himself. and you didn't text him when you found her social media, spending hours stalking her feed to learn that she'd been posting him from the moment you two stopped seeing eachother. and you surely didn't text him when she announced their engagement via a lengthy paragraph online, only a few months after the two of you cut all contact.

did i cry while writing this perhaps is this based off my current situation perhaps. this was a little shorter than i anticipated but i hope you all enjoy part two of this evil evil story.

@going-through-shit i hope u enjoy!!

#simon ghost riley #cod mw2 #ghost simon riley #ghost angst #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #cupid hour