lovingapparition
Drabbles & stuff
multifandom writing |
minors DNI 🔞|
ask box is always open for requests!
(This is a sideblog so I can't reply to posts 💔)
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whenever I see someone use "unalive" in a serious context off tiktok i'm like 😐
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4.6k words and and I'm just now writing the spicy stuff 🫡
you guys are about to be eating good
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König's Love Language.
Words of Affirmation.
NSFW | Praise Kink | Minors DNI 🔞
At first he's very quiet around you, and the only times you two really interact are short and very formal.
When you get to know each other, he eases up bit by bit. He'll thank you profusely for helping him with smaller tasks, impressing upon you helpful you're being (like he needs help with anything, ever.)
One day he'll tell you that you look nice, and you just swear he was going to burst just from that admission; but you laugh easily and tell him he looks nice, too. After that it's like some kind of tension bleeds out of him.
He starts peppering you with praise for even the slightest things.
You made his coffee just right? Oh liebling, this is so wonderful, thank you.
You do well sparring with him in the gym? Du bist so stark!
You can't always understand him exactly (you're trying to learn as you go) but there's some sweet tone in his voice that makes your stomach twist up in knots every time he uses it on you.
There's a day where it seems like everything is going wrong for you, and he ushers you against his broad chest in a long hug. His impossibly large hands rubbing your shoulders as he murmurs the sweetest words you can hardly understand into your hair. He uses that phrase over and over, Meine leibe, with such a soft voice it has you relaxing against him like nothing ever happened.
He talks the most when you're in bed together, and it's a welcome surprise. It's a complete 180 to his regular, slightly awkward self.
He insists on looking right at you, Du bist so gut für mich, Gott, so good. His voice is wrecked, low and rasping.
When you cry out for him it's like he lives for the sound of your voice, does everything he can to draw out more from you, and he's very insistent on getting it. Sag mir, wie es sich anfühlt.
When you're done he holds you, quietly insisting on how well you did, how incredible you look, makes sure you feel taken care of.
Basically he's got no filter and he's so so in love with you lol.
Translations:
Oh liebling = Oh love
Du bist so stark! = You are so strong!
Meine leibe = My love
Du bist so gut für mich, Gott = You're so good for me, God
Sag mir, wie es sich anfühlt = Tell me how it feels
#Konig#könig#konig x reader#konig x you#könig x reader#love language#praise kink#words of affirmation
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you'll all be glad to know I'm writing rainy day fluff (and there's only one bed)
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cryptid bfs
it makes me so happy to see all the eldritch könig fanart/fic ❤️
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A Short Comic ft Price & Simon
This idea spawned from the thought:
What if Price knew Simon before Ghost? That's why he said "It's good to see you again Simon." during the whole mask scene. To me, Price is a guy that puts a lot on himself. So... this came out.
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Okay I saw that requests are open!! *Happy dance*
Okay so what about Eldritch!König and you frequent the beach? (I am practically a jellyfish from how much I like to be in the water and every time Im floating I can't stop my mind wondering to a certain masked man who may or may not have tentacles underneath said mask-
DONT JUDGE ME
-with love, ✨🌟⭐💫
please. i love this. i was eating this up AS i was writing it. i went a little buckwild, sorry!
The smell of sunscreen and the ocean in the air, the heat of the sun on your shoulders, the coolness of the ocean lapping it away. The perfect way to spend any and all of your free time. On the dryer part of the beach you've got all of your necessities tucked neatly beneath an umbrella. Your cooler, bag, and clean clothes all ready for you. Somewhere in the mix is a small pail of cool rocks and shells you've been collecting.
You'd come alone today, but it didn't feel lonely. People with their friends and families walking, splashing, and chatting around you. The sound of the gulls flying above, looking for the unwitting victim to snatch a snack from. Waist deep in the shallows, your own feet visible to you in the clear water, you couldn't help but feel at home. This was where you were supposed to be.
You're skating your hands over the surface of the water, sending ripples over it's surface as you carefully walk through the water. The ocean was beautiful, but it was easy to slip or step on a sharp rock. You'd learned that lesson too many times. It's when you're bending to examine a particularly weird clump that you can't help but feel.. seen. Watched. It was a given, considering you were dressed for the beach, but this feeling was off. It pinged some buried part of your lizard brain.
From a cursory glance of the shore, you couldn't really pick out anything in particular at first. Just families with their excited kids and mopey teens. Some ways off from you, closer to the shore, is a man. How you hadn't noticed him before was honestly kind of baffling, all things considered.
He was tall. Even from a distance it seemed like his shadow was stretching on and on. You figured the heat had to be playing tricks on your eyes, maybe you needed to get into the shade for awhile. What actually caught your attention was the black hood and clothes he wore. His face had to be hot as hell in that thing, you couldn't even imagine.
As you waded in his direction to get out of the water, you wondered if he was some kind of athlete based on the muscular build he had. Who knows, athletes do weird shit all the time, who were you to judge?
It wasn't until you were a few strides away from him that you realized he'd been intently watching you slowly inch back to the shoreline. Even from the distance still between you, his eyes were so blue. As if they were made of the ocean itself. You stared for an awkward second too long, enough that he tilted his head at you. It looked like something shifted beneath the mask, just slightly. You blinked once, watching it happen again.
Ugh, this heat. It was too much. You were starting to sweat, the brightness of the sun boring down on you now that you weren't so deep in the water. It must be bad if you were seeing things now. Dragging the back of your hand over your eyes, you continue back to your setup, and recline on the towel you'd laid out. Lazily, you toed the pail of rocks and shells to the foot of the towel.
It was better in the shade, on your back. You sluggishly drank from the water bottle you'd tucked in your bag, groaning softly. For awhile you let yourself relax, drying off slowly and feeling that odd feeling recede. You sit up to have a snack, just taking in the views, enjoying the moment you have to yourself. This place just drew you in, it couldn't help it if it hurt you little sometimes. That was the nature of the ocean, and you loved it anyway.
It's not long before you feel that same odd tingle of being observed. You're not subtle about looking around, checking over your shoulders. It's just the same scenery as before, the families and their loud kids. The tall man isn't on the shore anymore. You huff to yourself, trying to shake off that feeling. You decide to pull the pail over to your lap, excited to take a look at the day's haul.
When you're admiring a particularly shiny piece of sea glass, that prickle on the back of your neck comes back like cold water splashed on to you. You can barely contain your jump when you look up to see that man again. He's a respectful distance away from your towel, but he's looking right at you again. His head is tilted as he looks down at you, his wrist cupped in his other hand in front of his stomach. It seems like he might be trying to make himself appear smaller than he is.
It wasn't working.
"I've seen you here, a lot," his accent is like one you've never heard, it almost doesn't match his appearance, in a way.
Blinking up at him, you have to remind yourself to answer him. "Um, yeah- yes. I love this beach." It's not hard to see that, you've come better prepared than most ever do. "I've never seen you before, though. Are you from here?" You venture to ask, since he's not being too creepy.
He takes a step closer to your towel and kneels to sit in the sand. You're close enough you can see the texture of the clothes he's got on. They're damp from the ocean's spray, but he doesn't smell bad. You can't help but wonder if you've actually got heat stroke, from the way his hood keeps shifting like that. It's only ever out of the corner of your eye but it seems like the shadows on the fabric are moving.
You're busy looking at the mask when he answers you, "My family has been here for a long time." At your questioning look, he quickly adds, "We tend to keep to ourselves. I live near the beach." As he speaks, his fingers carefully trace a pattern in the sand you've never seen, and he wipes it away before you can get a good look. "Anyway. I saw you collecting stones, I thought you would like this?" His voice is a little strained, and you wonder if he might be nervous. The movement beneath his mask speeds up just slightly.
Okay, you're definitely not imagining that. Some alien part of you decides that you.. don't mind? What?
Out of his pocket he hands you a stone that you've never seen before. It's a rich blue, so deep in its center it looks black. It's cool and smooth and heavy, fitting perfectly in the center of your palm. Like it was made for your hand to hold it. You look up at him then, a strange feeling pooling in the pit of your belly. He watches your reaction carefully, blinking slowly. You could've sworn his eyes were a clear, bright blue earlier, but now they seemed to match that of the stone.
"I- are you sure? You don't even know my name?" You ask, dumbfounded. Even as you say the words, you can feel something in you that wants to keep the stone. It's yours, you can feel it. Without thinking you cradle it closer to your chest. That action catches his attention, and you can see his eyes carefully track the movement. There's a glint in them that, this close up, seems off. Not human. Right now, you're not sure if you care.
When he looks back up at you, you think he might be smiling, if it's even possible. "I would love to know it."
#konig x reader#konig#my writing#ask#hehehe this is so cute#i loved this#giggling and twirling my hair#konig x you#konig mw2#konig cod#eldritch!konig#i could definitely be persuaded into writing more of this lmao
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HOW DO YOUR POSTS NOT HAVE MORE NOTES OMG. YOUR WRITING IS SO AMAZING AIDJAKSKAKS
please. I am about to die. thank u, this has fed me for the rest of the year.
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I've Got a River Running Right Into You.
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Slow Blurn
Pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader
Warnings for descriptions of medical gore.
It's the morning after. Ghost is very sad and very tired.
NOT COMPLETE | NO BETA
Chapter One
AO3 Link
In the early hours, it's nearly silent in his curtained off room. He listens to the soft snoring of the person on the other side of the curtain separating them, and sighs softly. He'd woken up at some point when the pain medicine had worn off. No one has been by yet to replace it, and the ache in his side coupled with his healing stitches was ever present.
Ghost closes his eyes, breathing slowly. He inhales carefully, counting to eight on the exhale. The cotton sheets were rougher than the ones he had on his own bed, and they made him itchy. Moving too much to scratch at himself had nearly his entire body smarting the only time he’d tried, so he mostly lay motionless in the cot. He closes his eyes, trying to ignore the hum of the lights above him. There’s not much for him to do without clearance from the doctors, so he waits.
And waits.
He’s dozing lightly when someone clears their throat, rousing him. His shoulders tighten as he rouses, and he reaches up to make sure his balaclava is still in place. Sleeping in it wasn’t the most comfortable, but he wasn’t going to chance anything. He ignores the rough, dry feeling around the skin at the corners of his eyes.
“..Good morning,” you greet him, a tray of breakfast food in hand. He can see a small rolling cart behind you, empty. You must have saved him for last, still embarrassed from last night. He hums in response, slowly sitting up to accept the food. Rough hands brush yours when the you give him the tray, and he pretends not to notice how quickly you bring your hands back to your side.
“Mornin’,” his voice is rough, gravelly around the word. His brow is furrowed, you can tell by the wrinkle of his eyelids as he hunches over the tray. Without a word you replace his IV bag, offering a new round of medication and fluids. He watches you look over his chart and make a face, wondering what's coming next. He contemplates the answer over his fruit cup, picking around the cherries.
Before he can ask, the curtain shifts a little, and a familiar face peeks in. It's Soap, grinning tiredly at Ghost. He's got a sling on his arm and a couple butterfly bandages over his eyebrow. Nothing as severe as the shrapnel Ghost had caught, but not insignificant. You gesture for the man to enter, and Ghost scoots over a bit to give him room to sit at the foot of the cot. Ghost says nothing when Soap swipes his toast, letting him take it. You can recognize the significant moment building between them, and you turn your back while you write some notes into Ghost's medical chart.
"How're you holdin' up? Price told me you caught a leg full'a shrapnel, no?" Soap asks, his voice hushed. Ghost huffs at him, knowing he must've been worried. They'd not spoken since a brief moment during the excursion, and it had been a tense one.
Ghost nods his head in your direction, “I had some help gettin’ put back together,” he says quietly. “It wasn’t looking good there, for a minute.” There's a new tone in his voice that wasn't there before. It's subtle, but Soap notices, angling his body to Ghost's to face him head on. Out of the corner of his eyes Ghost can see your shoulders stiffen a little at the mention of the state he was in last night. He wonders how bad it had actually been, having been barely conscious through the majority of it.
Soap doesn't say anything, just pats his friend's calf over the blanket firmly. They share a quiet beat of commiseration, taking in the sight of each other; both safe and alive to see another day.
Silently, Ghost slides his fruit cup of uneaten cherries over to Soap, who takes them with a small smile. Soap looks back to where you're working with your back to them, and faces Ghost again with raised eyebrows. "And who d'we have here to thank for puttin' Humpty Dumpty back together again?" Soap asks slyly as he pops a cherry into his mouth.
Your posture straightens, and Ghost wonders what you'd been thinking about; if you'd been paying attention to his exchange with Soap. When you turn and give your name with only a small waver in your voice, Ghost takes a moment to really get a look at you. Last night he'd barely been able to concentrate on anything other than the sound of your voice, irritated and firm with him before you'd known who he was. Now, he makes sure to look you over.
His eyes linger on your gloved hands. He recalls the feeling of them on his thigh, under his elbow; how warm your hands felt. He glances back up to your face, looks right at you. Your eyes dip to watch the bob of his throat as he swallows.
"It was really nothing, I was just doing my job, sir," you insist politely. The shade of red in your cheeks was actually very nice, he thought. Soap makes a joke, teasingly asks if you got a look beneath the mask. Ghost chuckles dryly alongside Soap at your immediate spluttering denial. It's not often that people respect his decision to remain faceless, to have a stranger refrain from taking advantage of the opportunity was rare.
Soap leaves a bit after that, impressing upon Ghost the importance of actually resting for once. You wave goodbye to Soap, and then you're alone together.
For a short moment, neither of you move; each watching the other. Ghost breaks the silence with an inhale and exhale through his nose, his chest moving with the breath. "I wanted to thank you for last night." It's the most he's said to you at once, and he tries not to feel like an asshole about that. Fails.
You shake your head, waving your hands like you're trying to dispel the gratitude from the air. "Oh, no- I was literally just doing my job. You needed help. So I helped," you insist, eyebrows furrowed. If anything, it seemed to him that you felt guilty for the harsh attitude you'd had, given the sudden change in behavior.
Ghost hums, squinting a little at you. He leans back, laying his head back on the pillow. "Fine then," he rumbles. His pale eyes slide shut and you find yourself staring into the vacant skull mask. He should look vulnerable in this state, but the bulk of his frame and the still, almost chilling calmness about his demeanor suggested otherwise.
You wonder briefly how many times that mask has been the last thing anyone's ever seen.
Ghost allows you to settle him back in against his pillows, calmly gives you the answer of, “Six.” when you ask him about his pain scale. With a new IV drip in place, he’s back to sagging into his pillows. There’s a slump to his shoulders that hadn’t been there last night, and the tension he carries doesn’t seem to bleed out of him the way it had before. It’s like he can feel the pain medication in his veins, making his limbs heavy. He dislikes the feeling of not being totally alert and aware of himself.
He drags a hand slowly over his jaw. The sound of his stubble catching on the mask’s fabric is audible, and he sighs. He turns his head to look at you then, his eyes half lidded with that soft, tired look. Most of his eye black has been smudged away, leaving his skin cast gray and grainy. You can see a small scar just below his eyelid, he watches your eyes trace the shape of it.
Ghost swallows, cottonmouthed from the pain medicine. “Are you going to be by later?” he asks you, his voice carefully neutral. “With lunch?” he clarifies. He tries not to feel the disappointment drop like a rock into his gut when you tell him your shift is ending soon. There was no good reason for it, so he squashed the feeling. Any one of your coworkers could have been the one to patch him up last night, nothing special had happened.
He watches you clean up as the pain medication begins taking effect, lulling him into a murky and dreamless sleep. He doesn't stay awake long enough to see you leave.
#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley#cod mw ghost#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#my writing#ghost cod#ghost#ghost fic
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Royal-Ghosts -> LovingApparition
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y'all what the helllll 1k notes on my ghost love language drabble dkskfjskd THANK YOU GUYS
#ghost x reader#just waffling lol#life has been so stressful but im so flabbergasted lol i wrote it in like twenty minutes on my couch#love u guys
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