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#callsign datura
callsign-datura · 1 month
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denial. imagine just sitting with simon on the couch. not watching tv, just laying there and listening to the rain hitting the roof. he's on his back with his shoulders against the arm of the couch, his head lolled back as you're sprawled on top of him. he likes cuddling with you on top; likes the warmth you provide. although simon is almost always warm to you, he always feels inexplicably cold. your soft warm body wrapped with his is the perfect solution to his consistent cold temperature. your fingers toy with the strings of his hoodie, wrapping it around your pointer finger and tugging it a little as you move further up. you never sit still, he's realized. always squirming. "quit movin', luv."
he warns quietly, tilting his head forward to kiss your forehead. you give a quiet whine in response before you settle into his broad body's warmth. your hand leaves his hoodie string, and you wrap your arms around your torso, fitting yourself snugly against him. his hands slide down from your back to your hips, and his thumbs slip into the hem of your shorts, resting on the curve of your hip bones and rubbing small circles. he hums to himself at how warm you are, and you whine at how cold his hands are. he chuckles in amusement, his hands leaving your hips to cup the back of your thighs and bring you further up, straddling his lap a bit more. you follow his lead and shift forward, legs resting on either side of his. you shift your hips a little into his, and you feel that warmth pooling in your belly. you act on the feeling, and you pepper little kisses over his chest and take his wrists, guiding his hands to your ass. he follows suit and cradles the flesh, kneading the fat for a few moments before he shifts and sits up, cocking his head forward to ghost kisses across the span of your neck. he breathes a little sigh as you grind against him, your warmth transferring to him and melting his worries away. a little whimper leaves your lips as your grip tightens on his arms, the warmth pooling in your belly further as you feel him shift underneath you, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer.
"c'mon, dove," he murmurs, his tongue darting out to travel along the length of your flesh. he feels you shudder, and a smirk curls his lips as you grind against him a bit more. his grip on you tightens and your movements stutter. he gently pushes you off of him, and you exaggerate the movement, falling on your back towards the other end of the cushion and huffing out. "hey!" you exclaim, lifting your head and sitting up. confusion is etched on your face and he chuckles. you note that sparkle in his eyes as he crosses his arms and leans back. "not now, eh? we were havin' a moment, and you come n' make it somethin' else entirely." he teases quietly, his eyebrows coming up as his gaze travels your face. your eyebrows knit together, and he rolls his eyes, the smirk never leaving his lips.
"show me how bad y'want it, pet, and maybe I'll indulge ya."
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teddiesworldd · 12 days
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here are some wonderfully talented call of duty creators you should check out in my absence! i'll probably continually add to this list so feel free to keep checking for updates
˚✧. writers ˚✧.
@dante-mightdie, @simonzmama, @tacticalprincess, @lovelyghst, @cntloup, @bi-writes, @rowarn, @konigsblog, @stargirlrchive, @miserycanary, @shotmrmiller, @simonrillleyyysss, @ghouljams, @vanillaberrychills, @closets-closet, @thexsilentxwordsmith, @obsessedduh, @euno11a, @victoryverse, @kechiwrites, @callsign-datura, @mrsariariley, @circlebuttons, @qtboni, @violetsareblue24, @warenai, @jackactuallywrites, @merakidoll, @chocolate-pies, @hischokehold, @scribbledghost, @pearlofthesirens, @feralforfrank, @suguann, @notjoelmiller, @boowritess, @nova-amor, @gaysindistress, @deadbranch, @xoxunhinged, @whateveriwant, @lovifie, @mactavishsgfandwife, @writingsonsaturn, @sinkovia, @iliektehhaxs, @glossysoap, @carmischa, @crashtestbunny, @fivechapters, @ellaa-writes, @cordeliawhohung, @i-am-hungry-24-7, @eskeptical, @captainfern, @incorrectcodquotes, @sunsetsimon, @landojpg04, @numberonecodwomenfan, @dashofghost, @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries, @midnightarcheress, @ultravioletrayz, @suimon, @dammn-dean, @iite-cool, @simon-sehs, @indecisivekitty
˚✧. artists ˚✧.
@wombywoo, @ave661, @lettaniko, @elysianvrt, @spiltspit, @valiants, @yooo-lets-go, @bluegiragi, @mindie-arts, @ramvur, @antomatkoen, @cobaltbeam, @al4thea, @tobascoart, @milomossy, @rusticfurnace, @lolsivol, @shkretart, @orbuz228, @lights-on-the-ridge, @lyralein, @eldritchdilf, @eracrow, @tapemouth, @helcef, @gurlidk-slay1, @oceantornadoo, @temeyes, @nachtart, @fludderpy, @eyesofsix, @skvaderpie, @hopefulonion, @stinglesswasp, @mibgl, @gold0kapi, @lilacakey, @mewmosh, @mibgl, @g8se
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callsign-datura · 1 month
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quit talking.
frustrated simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader warnings: smut, obviously. mentions of putting a muzzle on you, not dealing with feelings, unprotected sex, bro is def a tits man (he sucks on em), oral sex (f recieving), light choking, creampieee a/n: 1k? how the hell?? thank you! :)
If there's one thing you know how to do, it's piss Ghost off. It's not really fun to you, it's more of a competitive thing. He's been in this line of work for much longer than you have, but you've been in it for long enough that you should be treated like a valuable ally than an untrained soldier, or a rookie. But for Ghost, that nickname has stuck. "C'mon, rookie, get your head straight."
"Eyes up here, rookie."
"Are you listenin', rookie?"
Your blood boils every time the word slips from his mouth. Every time he does it, you keep yourself from snapping at him. You put a smile on and follow his directions.
But sometimes it isn't so easy.
He orders you around, and tells you what to do; like a lieutenant should. Yet for some reason, you feel your chest tighten when he gives you an order. You know damn well it's a personal issue. Probably some feelings you haven't dealt with yet that you aren't ready to deal with. But you butt heads. You can tell that your defiance pisses him off and the flicker in his eyes makes something in your heart surge; something you tell yourself is satisfaction. Recently, it's been worse... maybe it was the mission last month where you were stuck in a closet together and he couldn't keep his hands to himself, or the fact he acted like it didn't even happen after. Probably both.
---------------------- "Rookie."
That damn nickname again. You snap quickly, against your better judgment; but he can't blame you. It's been a hard day of biting your tongue. "How long have I been on this team, sir?" "Not long enough to be givin' me so much attitude." He snaps back just as quickly, and usually it'd be enough to extinguish that fire, but today, it's not.
"It's been two years." "Two years of you talking' like you've known us for ten. Sorry to burst your bubble," he barks, turning his body to you as you recognize that look in his eye that you shouldn't be messing with him today. "You haven't. I'll keep callin' you 'rookie' until you get that in your head." His arms hang at his sides, his fists idly clenching and releasing as he steps towards you. "You got a problem with that?" Your eyebrows knit together and you tilted your head back as he gets close, his upper body curling to lean over yours and stare you down. Cold, brown eyes staring into yours; something that would normally give you chills. But not today. "Yes, actually, I do. I'm not a rookie anymore, I've been working with you long enough to the point I should have earned the respect I deserve." The words are slipping out. You realize how stupid it sounds and how you should have just been quiet and stopped fighting, but it feels good to get it off your chest. So you keep talking. "I'm a valuable asset to the team. I'm a good medic, a good ground unit, I'm damn good with a knife and I have good survival skills. I think those are grounds for respect from my lieutenant. Everyone else treats me well, but you." He rolls his eyes so strongly that you think it probably hurts. "You wanna know why they treat you well, rookie?" He retorts, his voice low and husky and raspy. His face is inches from yours and your senses are flooded with him; it's almost enough to get you to forget about why you were fighting in the first place. "It's 'cause everyone else knows that bein' nice to you and lettin' you act like a proper twat is better than tryin' to discipline you. You act like a child and they let you because you're too damn stubborn to get through to." The words piss you off again, and you open your mouth to respond, yet nothing comes out. "Don't." He warns. "This is ridiculous."
"Ridiculous? I just want to be respected." "Nobody gives you shit anymore, rookie, but me. It sounds like you're mad that I'm the only person who gives you shit and doesn't let you get off easy."
"Because it's bullshit-" "I only give you shit when you're actin' like this." The glimmer in his eyes changes, and it becomes something you can't entirely put your finger on. "I only give you shit when you're yowlin' about 'not being respected' when you know damn well you are, you're just angry that I'm mean to you." "'Cause you are!"
"I am because I know that's the only way you listen." He says, his voice returning to something stable. "It's like you hate me."
Oh. His eyes flare again, this time with recognition. "That's what this is about? You think I hate you?"
"Well, sometimes..." Your voice lowers and you avoid eye contact with him, trying to focus on anything but the monster of a man in your proximity. "Sometimes it feels like it."
"Really? And that's why you're constantly puttin' up such a fight with me? 'Cause you think I hate you?" His voice turns... amused. Jesus Christ, he's enjoying this. "Yes, and--" You try to retort, but you can't think of anything. Your mind blanks. "And..." Embarrassment burns hot on your cheeks and you shut your eyes. He chuckles quietly. "That's fucked, sweetheart. You're not gonna believe me, even if I talk till I'm blue,"
"As if I could see." You snap, looking away. "...N' even if I talk, you'll interrupt me." He chuckles again. His voice tenses a little as if he's irritated. He grabs your hand and starts leading you somewhere and you start talking again. "I don't know where you get off on being rude like that." He laughs, in disbelief. "I could ask you the same thing." "You haven't said anything to me about that mission," you begin. Your voice is shaky. These are untrod waters, but you want an answer. "Not a damn thing. Not a text, hell, you barely look me in the eyes." "Mm." He responds, his voice higher-pitched, once again with recognition. "So it's that, too." He glances back at you, and you barely even realize where he's leading you until he pushes open the door to his quarters and pushes you inside, stepping in too, and shutting the door behind him. "You're mad about that? That we haven't talked about that?" You open your mouth, but the surprise doesn't let you say anything. So you nod, looking around the room. It's bland. Very... Ghost. "I haven't said anythin' to you about it 'cause even thinkin' about it makes it difficult for me to see you in a professional light." He pauses. "It shouldn't have happened. If anyone finds out, it'd be me taking advantage of you,"
"That wasn't what happened, though. I was asking you--" "Quit." He snaps, his hand coming up to cup your chin and hold your jaw, urging you to stay quiet. "Quit interruptin' me, fuck. You talk a lot, you know that?" His other hand goes to the zipper of your jacket, pulling at it and unzipping it. Your eyes flicker down to watch his hand, and you stay quiet.
He chuckles again and shakes his head, his eyes wide with disbelief and amusement... some mix of the two. "Now you're quiet. When you're gettin' what you want. Dunno what I expected." He lets go of your jaw and pulls your jacket off, tossing it to the side and turning both of you, backing you up against the door.
"I don't hate you... Quite the opposite." He murmurs, his voice softening. You watch as his thumb hooks into the bottom of his mask, pulling it over his nose as he leans in and puts his other hand on your waist. He goes for your neck, and you tilt your head instinctively. More than happy to obey. "It's jus' the fact that this is entirely unethical. No matter how we put it... it's unethical." He kisses the flesh of your neck, lips dancing along the softness there, testing for any sweet spots. He nips when he feels you tremble. "...Now that isn't to say I didn't enjoy it... 'cause I did. I dream about it, pet," his voice shakes and his grip on you tightens. "Fuckin' dream about it."
The vulnerability at this moment makes your body heat up. Warmth is building in your lower stomach, and a soft noise leaves your lips as you tilt your head back against the door. Your back arches as his breath ghosts your neck.
"Dream about you... n' this body, n' your voice, and your whimpers. I look at you, and I remember." He starts kissing your neck again. They're rough, and his breath is hot. You tremble again as his lips travel down, stopping at your collar as he reaches and slips the strap of your undershirt off your shoulder, and kisses the span of flesh that's been uncovered. Tongue darting out, following the contour of your collarbone, teasingly; leaving tingles in its wake that send heat straight to your cunt. "Makes it so goddamn hard to treat you like you're my teammate and not a person who haunts my dreams."
Another noise leaves your lips, and his hands slide up your sides, bringing the fabric of your undershirt with it. You lift your arms to let him, and you lock eyes for a moment. His are sparkling with lust, and he chuckles before his hands travel up your back to unclasp your bra. He pulls it from your body and drops it to the side, and his lips are on your flesh again. He nips at certain spots, nibbling gently and sucking deep marks into the flesh. His kisses go from your collarbone to your breast, and his lips close around your nipple. Your body tenses and goosebumps prickle over the flesh of your chest, and you tilt your head back again, legs pressing together as his hands rub up and down your sides soothingly. His tongue laves over it, sending tingles of pleasure through you as your eyes flutter shut and he grunts against you. His teeth nip at it gently before he releases it, switching sides. His hands slip down your sides and move to your pants, undoing the button of your jeans and tugging them and your panties down around your legs, detaching from your nipple to do so.
His gaze is immediately dragged to your cunt, and he hums low in his throat before he looks up at you. "C'mon, dove. Give me a taste, mm?" He asks, teasingly; but meaning the question entirely. Your expression twists in embarrassment, but your desire for him overrides any hesitation. And you nod. One of his hands cups the underside of your leg, lifting it up and to the side as he litters kisses along the inside of it. Having him so close to you makes your entire body shudder and a moan leaves your lips, your hand coming down to cup his head as you watch him. It's a lewd sight, but the view makes you tingle. He bites down lightly and a whine leaves your lips as you lightly swat his head. He chuckles in response and looks up at you, pulling away from your thigh to litter kisses over your cunt. You're wet enough to the point he can fucking see it; and your face flushes a bit more in embarrassment and you tilt your head back. You shudder, tilting your hips forward and chasing a bit more friction... and he delivers. His tongue darts out, dragging up between your labia to catch your clit. Your body shudders and you give a sharp whine. The feeling is electric, and you already feel something building in your stomach, yet you try to suppress it in turn for just feeling the sensation. His other hand comes up and his thumb pulls at the flesh, lightly spreading you out for his convenience, his lips closing around your clit as he grunts and the vibration of it turns into straight heat and makes you twitch. He sucks gently and you mewl, your hips shifting away from the unfamiliar sensation, forcing him to detach before he pulls you back in and clicks his tongue.
"Come on now, pet. You wanted this, didn't you? Stay still." You whine in affirmation, looking down once again and gasping as he buries his face into you once more. He dips his tongue into you, and his eyes roll briefly as he grunts at the taste of you; something that he'd get addicted to easily. Hell, he's already addicted to you; why not? He pushes his tongue into you for a moment, groaning again. His grip on the underside of your thigh tightens and he brings it upward a bit more, resting it over his shoulder as his hand slips up your tummy, giving the pudge there a little squeeze before he switches his attention to your clit, lapping his tongue over it slowly and gently. Each swipe sends heat into you, your walls clamping around on nothing, moans leaving your lips as he keeps his head buried into you. The sensations are mounting and he laps his tongue a bit faster to elicit more reactions from you.
Your hips buck into the sensation and a squeal leaves your lips. His hand slips back to cup your hip, pulling you further into him as he laps at your clit again and again. The hand keeping your labia spread shifts downward, and you jolt as he presses his middle and pointer finger against your hole, circling the flesh to gather your slick. The movement of his tongue stalls for a moment until he pushes his fingers into you, and he laps again, but much faster this time, grunting out in satisfaction at the way your walls flutter around his fingers and suck them in more. Moans leave your lips and your body tenses up, a cry leaving the moan before you shift down a little to push into his fingers. He curls them, feeling along your inner walls slowly and gently to find that spot that'll make you quiver, and he does; your hips buck again and you cry once more, the pleasure overloading your senses and rendering you to a whimpering mess. He laps away at your clit again, eating like a man starved; curling those two fingers on your g-spot and rubbing his fingertips against it slowly, gently.
The sensation causes the cord in your tummy to tighten. It doesn't take more of his assault to throw you over the edge; he continues, with an increased fervor upon feeling you tense around his fingers and hearing your noises take on a desperate edge. He pulls you closer, grunting into your pussy as you cry out and ball your hands into fists, grinding a little into the friction as your vision goes white and you sob his name. You continue, riding out your orgasm and whimpering his name quietly. His movements stop after your noises quiet, and he withdraws his fingers and pulls back to look up at you, making sure you're looking at him before he pulls his fingers apart; showing you the string of your fluid that connects them between breaking. He chuckles a bit and stands up as he looks you over. Your eyes flutter shut and you whimper softly, tilting your head back. Your body relaxes, but not for long as you hear a zipper being undone. Your eyes open just as he turns you around and pins you against the wall. One hand against the wall between your waist and your arm, his lips on the back of your shoulder as his other hand comes to your waist, pulling back you back against him. You give a surprised noise and he chuckles. "What? D'you think we were done?" You don't respond, and he hums. "Good. 'Cause we aren't." He pushes against you as you arch your back, your eyes widening as you feel his cock pressing against your cunt; a whine leaving your lips before he pulls his hand from your hip to wrap around the base of him, adjusting himself to rest the tip of his cock against your hole, watching as you flutter around him. He chuckles softly at the sight, and puts his hand on your lower stomach, slowly guiding his hips forward. His cock slips into you with ease, and you feel a faint stinging pain from the stretch, but the full feeling his cock gives you distracts you from the pain. It's familiar, almost; like your body remembers how he fit inside you. Your slick coats his cock, making the fit a bit more easy. He groans softly into your ear, the feeling of you around him more than heavenly. "Fuck. S'fuckin tight. Mm... like you were made for me, hm?"
He grunts quietly as he feels you pulse around him, and he tilts his hips slightly, cupping your lower tummy as he grinds into you testingly. A whine leaves your lips, but you don't stop him. The pleasure is overwhelming, and you feel some sort of sense of relief at finally being filled; by him. His breath fans over your shoulder as he grinds into you slowly, rolling his hips into yours; pulling out a bit before pushing forward and rubbing his hips into yours. He continues like this, one hand sliding up your front and wrapping around your throat, a gentle hold that keeps your head still. Your eyes keep shut, eager moans leaving your lips as you push back into him. For a few moments he continues this movement, just reveling in the feeling of your cunt around him before he begins thrusting. Slowly, at the same pace, raking his cock in and out of you, sending shocks of pleasure through you as you tighten a bit around him, eliciting groans from him. His movements speed up and the hand on your lower stomach slips downward, his middle and ring finger rubbing circles over your clit. You lurch a little and give a little cry, still feeling a bit overstimulated from the previous activities.
That sensation leaves almost immediately as he thrusts into you quickly, the sounds of your bodies together filling the room amongst his groans and your squeals. You lift one of your legs, tilting your head against the wall and his grip on your throat tightens as he starts rutting into you; the feeling of you is getting to him as much as the feeling of him is getting to you. Your moans increase in pitch, and your mind is scrambled by the pleasure. Your walls quiver as he continues, bullying into your cunt. He's chasing his high, and the circles he draws on your clit also increase in pace. The cord in your stomach draws taut, signalling your incoming orgasm; you can tell by his pace that he's close too. "Fuck-- Gonna cum." He warns into your shoulder, yet his pace doesn't falter.
You whimper and your chest tightens at the thought of him pulling out; wasting his cum like that. "Inside," you babble out quickly, hands balling into fists against the wall. "Please, inside." You stutter over your words as he continues thrusting into you, but he understands you immediately.
You don't have to say it twice. After a moment, he bucks into you up to the hilt, and a shaky groan leaves his throat as he cums; hot, thick ropes that flood your cunt with his spend. The sensation, mixed with the feeling of him rolling his fingers over your clit is enough to make you cum as well, and you cry out, walls quivering on his cock before tensing, milking him. Your body trembles and he pulls his hands away, holding you close to him, hums of affection leaving his throat as he thrusts into you a few more times before his movements stall. There's a bit of content silence before his voice breaks it. "Still think I hate you?" You pause, then you murmur in response shakily, "Mnh-mnh. Thank you..." "You're welcome, pet. But next time you need my cock, say it instead of being a brat." "Then the next time you dream about me, tell me." "...deal."
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callsign-datura · 3 months
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simon... he was your everything. you'd move mountains just to get to him, you'd throw yourself into a pool and swim to the bottom just to drown with him, you'd throw yourself in front of him and catch a bullet meant for his heart. he was your everything. you'd do anything to have him. nothing was going to stand in your way. not when he looked at you so prettily, blonde lashes fluttering as his eyes brimmed with tears, his earthen brown irises focusing on you. his pupils dilated, and a breathy moan left his lips at the way your lips closed around his cock. he fit so perfectly into your mouth. fit so perfectly inside you. you can imagine it now. hips buried into yours, cock nudging your cervix as you ground down into him, giving slow lithe rolls to make sure he felt how deep he reached inside you. the thought had you moving against your own hand, middle and ring finger rubbing over your puffy clit. your tongue rubbed against the underside of his cock and another one of his perfect fucking moans left his lips, his hips bucking upward as your other hand applied light pressure to keep him from moving too much; it was the perfect angle, and with this, you could bob your head slowly without making yourself gag on his ridiculously thick cock. "fuckin' hell, love. takin' me so goddamn well. makin' me think you were made for me." the words that left his lips made your heart flutter, and you mewled on his cock, beginning your pace again with renewed fervor. he was close, teetering on the edge for the past thirty minutes. you hadn't been meaning to edge him, but you were finding yourself lost in him. his scent, the feeling of his heavy cock down your throat, the feeling of drool and precum dripping down your chin as you bobbed your head lazily, your jaw burning with effort. your eyes focused on his, and his eyebrows knit together as you started bobbing your head faster, pulling your hands away and wrapping them around the base of his cock, working what you couldn't fit in your mouth. "yeah, yeah, baby, s'fuckin' it-- mmh, keep going. so fucking close. love you so goddamn much, fuck..." he growled, throwing his head back against the couch as his hips bucked upwards to hit the back of your throat, causing you to whimper and clench your eyes shut. despite the jolt of pain you kept going; eager to make him cum. so fucking eager. and when you pulled back and sucked on the tip, that was it for him. and you. your hands worked the length of his thick cock as he spasmed slightly underneath you, his big hands coming to the back of your head and shoving you back down, a breathy groan leaving his lips as his hot white cum spilled down your throat, coating it in his spend; marking you. simon was your everything. he was yours, and you were his.
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callsign-datura · 4 months
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Both you and ghost hiding feelings for each other until you make a decision on a mission that saves his life but nearly results in you getting killed. Argument leads to angry sex that melts into soft gentle adoring sex
About A Girl
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A/N: anon this is my favorite ask of all time pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader, reader's callsign is raven synopsis: ghost gets hurt, you cover it and nearly get yourself killed. he doesn't want to lose you. Simon "Ghost" Riley doesn't make mistakes. Not when he's stressed, not when he's under pressure, not when people are looking up to him. He doesn't make mistakes, and that's just who he is. When he looks at you and his heart thrums in his chest, he gets distracted. When he feels that tickly feeling in his stomach whenever you look up at him with those eyes of yours, he feels something. And to him, those things and feelings are what cause mistakes. And Simon "Ghost" Riley doesn't make mistakes.
"You're gonna be getting intel from a cartel-run trading port together." Price's voice is low and hoarse as he twirls a pen in his hand before tapping it against the edge of his desk. Ghost's tall, menacing form stands beside you, his arms folding over his chest as he stands. His eyes are cold, neutral, and murky as he stares holes into Price.
You stand beside him, smaller in comparison, your hands slipped into your pockets. His presence is suffocating and to you, it feels like he's taking up the entire damn room. "Just the two of us?" Ghost asks. His voice is husky and raspy, a sexy tone that has your knees knocking. "No backup?"
"No. This'll be a mission I can only send our best on. The place is fortified and you'll be going in, finding the woman and getting the intel, and then getting your asses out of there before the entire place knows you're there. Understood?" His eyebrows rise and he looks from Ghost to you, giving you a brief nod as if he's trying to make sure you have your attention on him. Ghost doesn't say anything. He turns on his heel and starts walking towards the door, and you look at Price and utter a soft, "Understood." before following him out.
"You're leavin' tonight. Get geared up." You look back at Price and nod, and when you look forward, Ghost is already halfway down the hallway. You sigh and you go the opposite way towards the armory to get your gear.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Tell us where Dimitri is." Ghost's tone is terse, snapping. His words are short and cut, and even though he's not talking to you, even you feel slightly intimidated. His hands are placed flat on the table in front of him, and he leans forward on it, brown dead eyes trained on the lady tied to a chair at the other side of it. "Fuck if I'm telling you," she laughs, accent cutting through her words as she struggles against the ropes. She avoids his gaze however, her eyes cast down and away. "Look, Lana, if you tell us where the man is, we'll let you go." You're lying. Ghost glances at you and his eyes narrow briefly before he looks back at her. Lana Antonova. Russian financier working under a mysterious person named Dimitri Kulikov, the guy who's supplying the man we're looking for-- Red Spirit, a man who's at the head of a cartel. Multiple fatalities as a result of the escapades he and his men went on, including the murder of one of our informants. "I'm not telling you!" She hisses, jerking her body against the ropes. Her voice is shaky, and she's on the verge of breaking. Ghost sighs and pulls away from the table, pacing at the far end of the room. You approach her and lean against the table with your hip, holding your rifle with one hand and putting your other hand on your hip. "Why aren't you telling us? Is it 'cause you're... involved with this man?" Lana pauses for a second, and then she scoffs, her eyes going up to yours. "...No." "You're lying again," you say, your voice taking on a higher tone, like you're mocking her. "I'm sure those ropes are uncomfortable. Tell us what we need to know and we'll release you." "No." She repeats, her gaze going back down again. She jerks against the ropes once more, and you sigh. You look back at Ghost and you see him rummaging through the various cabinets in the office. He's searching for something on her. You look back at her. "If you tell us where Dimitri is, we'll take him into custody and he'll get a lighter punishment. But if you don't tell us, we'll have to find him ourselves... and if we find him ourselves, we'll have to kill him if he gets combative. Do you want that?" Your voice is condescending, but it's obvious this gets the gears working in her head. She scoffs again and looks away. "I know you're looking for Red Spirit... I have logs on the supplies Dimitri bought. Where the supplies went, when they were bought, and when they arrived at their location. I'll tell you where those are. Just... leave Dimitri alone." You stand up straight and look at Ghost. He looks back at you and gives a nod, before coming back over. "Where are they?" "They're... in this office. In that desk." She nods with her head, and you go over to the desk and rifle through it. "It's a USB drive... insert it into a computer and it'll start a download of all the purchase logs and delivery reports." You find a small USB drive, and you hold it up. "This is it," you say, looking at Ghost. He nods again, and you put it in your pocket. He leaves the office. "Hey! Aren't you going to let me go?!" You go over to her and pick up a roll of duct tape on the table, picking it up and ripping off a strip before putting it over her mouth and smirking at her. "No chance, lady."
You turn around and jog out of the office, locking the door behind you. Ghost is waiting in the hall. He looks at you. "Got the drive?" You nod. "Good. We're going." Then he starts jogging down the hall and out the door you both came in through. You follow suit and he leads you out of the building and down the road leading to the docks at the shore. Waiting further up the shore is the patrol boat you used to get there. Halfway down the road, when you're catching up to Ghost, gunfire sounds. Your head whips back and you see about five men at the top of the road, shooting down at the both of you. You're about to start running, but you see Ghost using a wide tree as cover. He has his back to it and he has one hand on his leg like he's been injured. You turn around and return fire, taking cover behind another tree further up the road. Whenever you've taken out four of the five men, you go to Ghost's side. He's bleeding pretty bad from his leg. "Shit," you hiss. "Come on, let's go." You move to help him limp further down the road to get to the boat. "No, just go. You have the drive." he grunts. Millions of things are running through his head, and he'd rather get left behind than risk you getting injured just because you're trying to help him. Gunfire sounds, and his heart thumbs in his chest.
"If they find you, they'll kill you!" "Just go!"
"No, the boat is right there--" You take his hand and start leading him down carefully. He's limping, and it's taking some effort. You don't stop. You help him down to the boat and into it. You get in as well, and there's more gunfire. You look up as the patrol boat starts pulling away from the shore, and there are more men lined up at the cliff. He knows he should be grateful. But for some reason, he's angrier that you risked your life saving him. You don't say a word, and neither does he. He's just stewing in his own anger, packing his wound. He shouldn't be angry at you. But god, he is. He's pissed that you'd even think about risking your life for him. For some reason, he's angry that he was more worried about you getting shot trying to help him than he was worried about the thought of you possibly leaving him behind. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It's a few days later. You waited to talk to him in hopes some of the energy from the mission had diffused. You went to his room, took a deep breath, and knocked on the door. He was sitting inside, on his bed, reading a book. He was doing better now, and the injury he sustained on the mission was a graze from a bullet and a pretty badly sprained ankle. He sets the book aside and gets to his feet, going to the door with no trouble, pushing open the door and peeking out. Once he sees you, something bubbles up in his chest. It's a mix of happiness that you came to see him, guilt that you went out of your way to help him, and anger that you risked your life. He never really dealt with all of the feelings that came with the encounter. "...Hi." You say, your gaze darting down to his leg. "You're doing better, huh?" He steps back and nods, gesturing for you to come inside. "Was jus' a graze and a sprained ankle." "Explained the limping." You say, stepping into his room. It's meant to be a playful joke, but you can't tell if it landed or not as he stares at you. You swallow slightly, crossing your arms. "...We gonna talk about what happened?" He says, his voice low and raspy like usual as he leans against the wall, mimicking your body language. "What is there to talk about?" You act nonchalant. "You saved me." He says matter-of-factly, staring at you a bit harder now. "I did."
"You risked your life to do so. Why?" His tone takes on an angry note; different from how he usually sounds, and you can tell all the emotions are resurfacing. You take a step back, looking at him. "I wasn't just gonna leave you behind, Ghost, that's not what a teammate does--" "No, I'm not jus' your teammate. I'm your lieutenant, and you're supposed to do what I say. I say run, you run. I say leave, you leave." "Are you seriously pulling rank right now?" You genuinely can't believe that he's acting like this, and the look on your face must show it. He scoffs a little. "I'm not pullin' rank, I'm tellin' you that you should have listened to me." "You were telling me to leave you to die!"
"And you should have listened." He pushes himself off the wall and goes toward you. "You're my subordinate." He gets in your space, and his face is a few inches towards yours. Suddenly, you're incredibly aware of everything. The way his brown eyes focus on yours, glittering with anger, the way he leans over you, and how big his hulking frame is in comparison to you. He notices the way a blush spreads across your cheeks, and he pauses for a second. He notices that you're looking everywhere but his eyes. He glances down at your lips and he takes a step forward. "You're an idiot, s'what you are," he grunts, his eyes trained fiercely on your lips. He takes a step forward, shutting the door behind you and pushing you up against it, leaning in and reaching one hand up to pull his mask over his mouth, his other hand tilting your head to the side as he leans in and starts planting rough kisses along the span of your neck. The audacity of this man makes your chest bubble with more anger, but you can't find it in you to push him away. His kisses feel heavenly. You bring your hands to the fabric of his shirt and you ball it up in your fists tight, grunting. "Yeah, well, you're an asshole." You mumble, tilting your head and shutting your eyes as he keeps kissing your neck.
"I might be an asshole but you're still the one who risked your life for me," he grumbles, nipping at the flesh of your neck as his hands find your waist and you pull him closer. "Yeah, well, what would I do without your smartass mouth ordering me around all day?" You mumble, your voice shaky as his touch sets all your senses alight.
He scoffs under his breath and he laps his tongue over your pulse, his big hands running underneath your shirt and gripping your hips. "I'm the one with a smart mouth? You're the one talking back to your superior." He grunts, leaving a light hickey on your neck, then another, then a darker one.
A moan that's badly muffled leaves your lips. He pulls your shirt up roughly, and you lift your arms to make it easier. He throws it aside and moves on to the next article of clothing, unbuttoning your bra and throwing it to the side as his kisses trail down. Over your collarbone, towards your chest as his calloused hands run over every inch of your bare skin. "You've always been so damn reckless," he grunts, lapping his tongue over your soft flesh and leaving more hickeys as he moves down. Your head falls back against the door and your shoulders draw together as he kisses down. One of his hands moves up and he starts playing with one of your breasts as he takes your nipple into his mouth, running his tongue over it and closing his lips around it before giving a little tug on your other nipple with his thumb and pointer. His other hand is busy unbuttoning your pants, and his hand leaves your breast to pull them down around your hips as he detaches from your nipple and huffs. "So damn reckless, so damn stupid. You don't even recognize the fact you could have died trying to save me."
"I-I know damn well that I could have died, but I wasn't thinking about that at the time--" Your breath hitches as he tugs your pants and panties down around your legs. You kick your shoes off and he pulls your pants and panties off of you, leaving you entirely naked and subject to his gaze. He pulls back and his gaze roves over you, and his gaze softens just slightly before it hardens again and he stands up, leaning back into your neck and littering more hickeys there as your hands paw at his chest and tug at his shirt. You whimper whenever he takes your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head, a silent order for you to be patient. You're not having it though, and you grunt under your breath, pulling your hands free and bringing them to his shirt. He looks alarmed for a second and using his surprise against him, you pull his shirt up and off, and he grunts immediately.
"Damnit, girl," he hisses, but he lets you anyway. Your hands move to his pants and you start unbuttoning them, and he continues his ministrations as he kisses and bites your neck. One of your hands slips down his front, your eyes fluttering shut as you gently pull his cock free from the confines of his boxers. He's big. Not incredibly long, but he's thick, and heavy in your hands. You gasp and bite your bottom lip, trying to hide your satisfaction as you pump your hand around him, from base to tip. "Fuck." He hisses. He's going to stop you, but it feels too damn good to stop you just yet. Besides... this is the same thing he's dreamt about for months, and it's finally happening. He lets you continue for a few more seconds before he quickly hoists you up by your thighs, pinning you against the wall with his body.
Your gaze travels over him, taking in every inch of him. From his muscled chest, his arms, the tattoos on his arm, and then his hips-- his v-line, and his happy trail. Your gaze goes back up to his face, still partially obscured by the mask. So you reach up, tugging at the hem of it lightly to signal, 'off'. He chuckles just a little, feeling his chest swell slightly. He hesitates. His lust and that fluttery feeling in his stomach override his sense of rationality, and he lets you pull it off and throw it aside. You stare at him wide-eyed, taking in his features. He moves and grips the underside of your thighs a bit tighter, shifting a bit against you. You jolt when you feel the tip of his cock rest against your hole, and he leans forward, putting his face in your neck and slowly pushing into you. It doesn't hurt, not at all. You gasp when he sinks his cock into your heat, and your arms wrap around his neck and you cup the back of his head. He makes you feel so full, and your heart swells a little when you realize you're finally getting what you've wanted this entire time. He litters kisses and bites over your neck, his grip on your thighs tightening. He pulls his hips back, dragging his cock out of you before he bucks back into you, the head of his cock knocking against that gummy spot inside you. You mewl, tilting your head back as he bites down on that spot that makes your insides spasm on his cock.
He grunts and bucks into you once more, before adopting a smooth, rhythmic pace. He drags his cock out of you and then bucks back into you, the tip of it hitting that spot inside you each time. The sounds of wet skin on wet skin develop quickly, and he's grunting and groaning into your neck. He pulls back to look at you and his expression softens, his thrusts stuttering a bit. Your head is tilted back and your lips are parted as you whimper breathlessly, and it's like he's seeing you for the first time-- looking at you in that same loving, bewildered manner he did when you introduced yourself to him. His eyes sparkle, and a smile spreads across his lips.
"Fuckin' hell, girl... you're pretty, you know that?"
Your breath hitches whenever he addresses you so affectionately, and you lean forward to kiss him. He follows suit, and the moment your lips are on his, his hands slide up to cradle your ass as he adopts a new, quicker pace. You whimper into his mouth, and his tongue darts out to prod at your bottom lip, asking for entry. Your lips part and his tongue dips into your mouth, flicking against your own as his cock bullies into you over and over again, reaching deeper as he leans back and holds you up so your weight leans forward onto him a bit. You pull at his hair gently, teasingly, and he grunts and kisses you harder. You're moaning and whimpering. You have to pull away from the kiss to breathe, and when you do, his lips are on your neck again. Leaving dark hickeys, teeth nipping at your flesh as he pushes you up against the wall again and wraps one arm around your waist, his other hand sliding up your back and tangling in your hair, and he pulls it in retaliation to you pulling his. You whine when he does, and he bucks into you a particularly rough time, drawing another mewl from you. The way he's fucking into you has you seeing stars, and your eyes are rolling back into your head. All you can focus on is the sensation of his cock pumping into you over and over.
His grip on you tightens, and you feel his cock twitch inside you. He continues his pace, but you can tell he's getting close when he groans softly into your neck, tilting his head to nestle into your neck as he continues thrusting. You're getting close too, whining when that coil in your belly winds impossibly tight. You wrap your legs around his waist and you whimper. "Fuck, Ghost, m'close--" You feel his thrusts stutter again before he's groaning into your neck. "Say it, love." "Ghost..." You whine, your grip on his hair tightening when his thrusts suddenly cease, the pleasure fizzing away. "No, sweetheart, my real name. Say it, 'n that pretty voice of yours, and I'll consider letting you cum." You pause, and embarrassment swells in your chest, but you can feel your orgasm slipping away and you're quick to plead. "Simon, please..." "Yeah?" He chuckles quietly, kissing your cheek as he starts bucking into you again, a bit rougher this time. "You wanna cum?" You whimper in affirmation, and he whispers, "Then cum for me, sweet girl."
That's all it takes. Not even a second passes, and your walls squeeze on his cock and you're mewling as your orgasm wracks your body. His grip on you tightens and he leans in to kiss you and muffle your noises, nipping at your bottom lip as he bucks into you and buries himself into you as deeply as possible, bottoming out. You whimper when you feel ropes of his cum spill into you, and you're moaning breathlessly into his mouth and pulling his hair. (You're almost positive you told him you loved him.) He grunts and stays inside you. Your cunt spasms around him, and he grunts, withdrawing himself from your pussy. You feel just a bit of his cum dribble down your inner thighs as he slowly lowers you to the ground, littering loving little kisses over your face and running his fingers through your hair as the haziness of your orgasm fades. He guides you over to his bed and shifts you down onto it, getting himself dressed before he comes back to you with tissues in hand, wiping his cum from your inner thighs and pulling your panties back up your legs. He runs his fingers along the inner side of the hem to make sure they're in place. You're still panting, and a bit out of it from the entire experience. He pulls away and grabs one of his shirts, gently helping you put it on. You're enveloped with the scent of him, and it's a warm feeling. You feel the bed shift as his weight is added to it and he lays beside you, pulling you close and tucking your head into his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. You coo quietly and nuzzle into him in response, holding him close and tight. Your body is still thrumming with the aftershocks of pleasure, and being in Simon's arms has a smile spreading across your lips; one you just can't wipe off. "You know, if sprainin' my ankle and gettin' grazed by a bullet results in this... Might just do it again." "...Don't you dare."
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callsign-datura · 2 months
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Hcs or works for a touch-starved reader dating 141+ Alejandro and Konig? She never initiates but the second they cuddle with her or put a hand on her waist she just gets embarrassingly turned on?
Ghost was a little surprised. He could tell that you craved physical intimacy, but you never once initiated it. You always lingered, always leaned, always stood near-- but you never said a thing about what you wanted. He started taking note of it a while into your relationship after he became comfortable with physical intimacy. Each time you cuddled, you were always pressed tight to him; clinging onto him for dear life, it seemed like, as he dragged his calloused hands up and down your back. To him, it was a gentle moment, one where he was quietly demonstrating to you that he loved you. To you? Jesus Christ, you were DROOLING. Your eyes were screwed shut as you shuddered through the feeling of his fingertips on your bare skin, a breath leaving your lips as your grip tightened on him almost barely. He took note of this change in behavior almost immediately, and his eyes fluttered open and he looked down at you. His left hand slid up your shirt, sending you shuddering once more as he cupped your waist with his right hand. He leaned down and kissed your head, and he felt something in his chest bubble whenever he heard that little whimper that left your lips. "Gonna tell me what y'want, babydoll, or are you gonna suffer in silence?" Price always felt like your behavior was a little odd. He never said anything about it but he noticed it. The way you trembled in his hold as he cuddled you close to his chest, the way you whimpered when he put his face in your neck and the stubble on his chin grazed your soft flesh. The way that you'd shift back against him just a little whenever you were the little spoon, the way your grip on his wrist would tighten when his hand drifted southward; he could tell, and he liked it. Liked hearing those shuddering breaths, liked teasing you about it until you were huffing and puffing about how mean he was. It was one of the nights you were cuddling. You had your back to his chest and he had his chin resting on your shoulder. It was a normal cuddling session, one you always shared before you fell asleep. His touch was getting to you, as it always did. He took notice of it this time and decided to go further with it. His hand drifted underneath the waistband of your pants and panties, and he littered little kisses over your shoulders. He tensed up a moment upon feeling how wet you were, and a strained hum left his lips. "Christ. This turned on from a little cuddling, love? What m' I gonna do with you...?" Soap, bless this boy, he was oblivious for the longest time. Oblivious to the way you squirmed and shuddered and whined in his grip, always equating it to you being you; playful and restless. It took you alluding to it very strongly for it to click in his head. When it finally did, he didn't say anything; just decided to play on it. Spent the day holding your waist, your hips, putting a hand on your back or cupping your face when he got the chance, laughing to himself each time your face flushed and a breath left your lips. He knew he was going to make it up to you. He just wanted to see if your little problem was as bad as it seemed.
You were definitely on edge the entire day, and when you finally got to be alone with him, he was immediately making out with you... intent on making it up to you. "M'sorry, dove, gon' make it up to ya, okay? Jus' bear with me... wanna make you feel good now." Gaz could tell something was up. He knew immediately and immediately had to say something about it. The conversation wasn't... embarrassing, per se, it was just interesting to see his response to how you felt and how his actions affected you. Gaz is always a very physically affectionate person. Holding you, caressing you, kissing you when he can; and to hear that those little things turned you on so goddamn easily? He was thrilled.
He loved being intimate with you. It was an experience he adored; he loved being able to bond with you in that way, loved being able to be so close to you. Knowing that this would just make way for more passionate sex... ...So he started playing on it. Teasing you with this shit-eating grin on his face about the entire thing, running his hands up and down your sides as he kisses your shoulders and his eyes twinkle as he looks at you. "Mm? What's wrong? ...Again?" Konig... He also knows. I mean, you were never necessarily subtle about it. He picked up on it right away and at first decided to give you some grace. Less touches that could set your body alight, more nearness rather than touching. But he found himself missing your body heat, missing the way your flesh felt underneath his hands, missing the way you shuddered and panted just from him holding you. Trying to make a situation less difficult for you quickly ended up starving him of what he needed from you so badly. So he decided to give in to his desires, and yours. It happened one night when you were both lying in bed. Content with being near each other yet craving something more, Konig's head tilted in your direction and those baby blues of his sparkled as he shifted a bit closer to you. Draping an arm over your midsection, he held your belly and kissed your shoulder, trailing them up your neck as he nuzzled his face into you, taking in your scent and feeling the tent in his pants grow more by the second. He grunts quietly. "I can't do it anymore, Schatz. Have to have you..." Alejandro is a very passionate lover. Expect to have sex often. It's not very often your needs go unnoticed, however, as he quickly notices the look on your face when he holds you. His hands on your hips from behind as you make a meal, his face buried into your back as he breathes in your scent and whispers sweet nothings to you, enjoying the closeness. You'd told him about your little habit, so it was always present in the back of his mind how you'd respond to these little displays of affection. Your body tenses, and he feels your muscles flex underneath his grip. His hands travel from your hips to your abdomen, his thumbs rubbing along the flesh and cupping the curve there as he sways you back and forth. He pushes against you from behind teasingly to see how you respond. When you gasp, he feels a sense of pride come over him. "Something you need, cariño? Use your words... I'll be happy to make you feel good if that's what you're craving, mm?"
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callsign-datura · 3 months
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hi! so idk if you've already done this before but... cockwarming simon/price while they fill in reports?
simon doesn't do it that often. usually when he's too fucking busy to indulge his pretty wife's desires, so he offers to let you sit on his cock while he does reports. as soon as he sees you in the doorway, dressed in that silky lace slip you wear to sleep, he's leaning back in his seat and patting his thigh in a silent order to get your ass over to him. when you're standing between his legs, he has his hands on your hips, feeling you up and going over your curves, the pudge of your belly and relishing in the way your soft skin feels in contrast to his calloused flesh. his fingers grip your hips and he makes a soft grunt as you pull his mask up, crawling into his lap and straddling him, your back arched so pretty. he feels the plush of your tits against him and he's drooling, the ever-building heat in his body growing as he cradles the curve of your ass and pulls you into him. he scoots forward in the chair, your arm locking around his neck and your other hand coming between your bodies, unzipping and unbuttoning his jeans and taking out his cock. semi-hard, you give a few lithe pumps before you're lining yourself up. he jolts when he feels your bare cunt against him. "no panties, mh? dirty girl," he clicks his tongue, hands finding your hips and guiding you down on his cock. it's a slow movement, and he's grunting as he sinks into the plush of your heat. your cunt tightens around him and flutters before releasing and he sinks himself further into you, the full length of his cock nudging into you. the head knocks against your cervix and you're panting already. he wraps one arm around your waist as both of your arms lock around his neck, and he goes back to filling out reports, his chin set on your shoulder and his eyes focused on the boring paperwork in front of him. though his mind is dragged to the feeling of your tight cunt wrapped around him occasionally, he tries his best to get the work done so he can fuck you right. sometimes he'll buck up into you just to hear you whine, the hand around your waist gripping your hip to stall you as you try rocking yourself on his cock. he can't help talking to you, though, encouraging you to stay still; cause he knows it gives you butterflies when he does, and he loves feeling your velvety walls tighten on him. "c'mon, pretty girl. jus' a bit longer, then i'll fuck you proper. gonna have you spread out on m' desk in a bit, promise..."
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callsign-datura · 3 months
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mhm just read your fuckboy!ghost and what if reader decided enough is enough, like she’s tired of the fwb and wants a real thing but ghost are too afraid of commitment alright? ok but what if she ended the thing by ghosting him and he regretted for not making the reader, his girlfriend iskdkdjeksn idk im in a mood angst LMAO
"Ghost, come on, we've been at this for months." You plead, your hands clasped together as you stare up at him from your position beside him. Your eyebrows knit together as you see a glimmer of emotion flicker in his eyes. A low sigh leaves his chest and his response is low. "I can't, doll. Every time we've talked about this, I told you. I. Can't." He says, turning his head towards you and looking down at you.
God, you were so... cute. Cute, in a pathetic way. With rosy cheeks, glassy eyes, and quivering lips. He almost wanted to kiss you. He knew that was what you wanted, it was what he wanted too.
"Well, I can't with the fact you're somehow perfectly okay with not having a relationship. Fucking three times in one week, then you ghost me for two. It's getting really fucking tiring, Simon." Your voice is exceptionally sharp, and you're getting stern. He hasn't heard this from you before and it's odd to see you respond so strongly. Normally you're so passive, and... he would be lying if he didn't find it hot. But a familiar twinge of fear made his stomach flip, and he started feeling uneasy. His eyebrows knit together as he looked down at you, brown eyes swirling with a mix of fear, desire, and hurt.
As he stared at you, disappointment made your heart drop and your shoulders sag. "Whatever, Ghost. I'm sick of just sitting by and letting you walk all over me as if I'm just some toy to you."
"Doll, you know that's not true," he grunted, panic rising in his throat. Normally he wouldn't get so emotional or defensive, but hearing you talk like that made him scared. What if he lost you? "I lo- I care about you. This isn't some... one-time thing, and I thought that would've been obvious by now."
"But why don't you want to start a relationship with me? That's all I want and you know that it's all I want." "I-I can't... I just can't." His voice trembled for a moment, but then he realized you were going to continue pushing him on this. "I can't." "Why can't you?" Your voice rose slightly, the anger in your tone unmistakeable as you used your hands to gesture; a small effort to expel some of the adrenaline building in your body from finally confronting him on this. "I just can't, okay? Drop it. Please, let's just--" "No. I can't go back to the way it was." Your voice lowered slightly as you looked up at him, tears building in your eyes and your voice trembling slightly. Your chest tightened. "I love you, Ghost, and I want to hear you say it back. If you can't... we're over. I'm done." Silence hung in the air between him and you. The panic was rushing in his body, and for a moment you saw genuine fear in his eyes. The words weren't coming. His brain ran over all the things that would happen if he finally admitted it. Would you see him as weak? Would he ruin this relationship just like he's ruined his other relationships? Is there any way out of this that doesn't involve revealing how weak and pathetic he is? "Doll, I--"
"Say it. Say it, or..." you paused to take a breath, your lips parting and your chest rising as you gathered the courage. "I'm leaving. I can't deal with this anymore... I can't see you every other night, get reminded of how much I love you, and then you're gone the next day." Your voice broke, and he was reminded of how much of a shitty person he was. "I can't... lay awake, wondering if you love me back. I can't deal with you not opening up to me."
His heart broke when he saw that tear roll down your cheek. He hated seeing you cry, he hated seeing you hurt. He wanted nothing more than to embrace you and comfort you. He doesn't know what he'd do if he did. He just doesn't want you to leave, but ironically that's the same thing that's pushing you away. The silence continues, and your expression morphs as the seconds pass. "Fucking hell, Ghost, I--" You grunt, cutting yourself off before you twirl on your heel. He blinks, and you're gone.
He stares at the doorway you've gone through, and his heart breaks again as he watches your form disappear around the corner. Tears stung his eyes and he brought his hands to his face, the balaclava feeling suddenly claustrophobic as it clung to his face. He stood there for what felt like hours, his heart in his stomach and the fabric of his balaclava damp with a mix of sweat and tears. He takes a shaky step towards the door, and he shuts it. His breath is shaky and he can't stop himself from tearing up once again, tears falling and smearing his eyeblack as he moves and sits down at the edge of his bed. The mattress creaks under the addition of his weight. "Christ, I'm such..." He couldn't find the words. You were gone. Gone and he was alone. He lost the one thing he thought he'd cherish forever. Just because he couldn't admit that he loved you. His hands shakily find his phone, and he draws it from his pocket, turns it on, and flips to the contacts screen. He finds yours, and he taps on it, opening your message history; filled with sentences from you, checking on him, asking him if he needs anything... and his replies, just one word. He lets out another shaky breath and he wipes away the moisture from his eyes with the back of his hand, moving to write a message. "Please. I'm so sorry. I love you. Can we talk about this? I'm sorry." He taps send. It doesn't go through. His gaze focuses on the message, and he realizes what he's lost. He's an idiot. You're gone. Why couldn't he have just said the words you wanted to hear? His fear doesn't mean anything compared to the pain he feels knowing he's just lost the most beautiful thing in his life. He's lost you. His flower, his darling, his sweetheart, the one he dreamt about pouring his heart out to, the one he dreamt about going on dates with, the one person he thought he might actually let love him. You're gone and he feels emptier than ever. You're gone because he was too stupid to make it clear that he loved you. And now, he'll never get a chance to show you that he loves you.
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callsign-datura · 3 months
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omg so im making these bracelets with like 141 and konigs names on em 😭😭 how do u think they would react? 😝😝
Price wouldn't wear it. He doesn't want it to get bloody, but he WILL clip it to his equipment. Wears it proudly in that manner. Would probably get immensely pissed if he broke it somehow. He cherishes it and every time he sees it, he gets this smile on his face. He'd probably buy you a gift or something as a thank you. Definitely the type of guy to go, "Didn't know you loved me so much." when you show it to him. Ghost would wear it 24/7. Happily. His love made him a bracelet? Fuck yeah, he's wearing it. He's probably going to chew anyone out who comments on it, especially if it's a bright color he never wears. Bro would wear that shit like a TROPHY. Flaunts it. Rolls up his sleeves and chuckles a bit to himself every time he sees it. And if it gets bloody or dirty, he won't wash it immediately. He just sees it as a symbol of what he's fighting for. If you see this man as a man who draws, he will draw you in return. Soap? Oh my god. Baby boy is so happy. He would probably make one for you, too, just so you can match. Probably doesn't wear it for the same reason Price doesn't wear his, so it doesn't get bloody or dirty. Absolutely adores the fact you care about him enough to make him something like that. Gaz is wearing it. No doubt. On his left hand. Has it under his sleeves most of the time so it doesn't get dirty, but every time he glances at it he's immediately reminded of you and in turn, how much he loves you. He'll probably buy you something as a thank you. I mean-- when you get so damn happy when you see him wearing it, how could he NOT wear it all the time? But he'll feel slightly guilty if you spent a lot of time on it. Konig. This man is a big man. Thick wrists. He had a feeling you were up to something when you measured his wrists, but when you present him with a CUTE ASS BRACELET? Bro is wearing it 24/7. To bed, while he's cooking... everywhere but in the shower. When he isn't wearing it, he has it in his pocket. You put so much effort into it, and he loves the fact that you love him enough to do something so goddamn adorable.
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callsign-datura · 3 months
Text
putrid pride
pairing: simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader warnings: ghost being a dick, unrealistic character, sexual tension, oral (f receiving), ghost not fucking you as a punishment for you being a little brat a/n: he's had me in a chokehold for the past year. i kinda want to do a character analysis series not gonna lie song: get stoned ~ hinder
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Sometimes you wondered why Price assigned you to be his partner. He thought it'd be a good learning experience for the both of you. Since you were a sergeant you were bossed around by everyone else already, and you've only been there for a few weeks. In most missions you've been assigned, Ghost has been part of it one way or another and you noticed that he treated you differently than his mates. Whether it was the fact you were a woman or the fact you were a talented sniper, or what, you didn't know. He always made these little jabs at you that could be passed off as light teasing or playful banter. You felt a bit crazy for thinking he was being rude to you because he wasn't rude to anyone else; why you? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Damnit," he grunted, his back towards you. "You always fuckin' do this." His tone was laced with anger and venom, and your heart sunk. "You never fuckin' listen." he hisses, turning around and taking a few steps towards you. The look in his eyes pissed you off. You made the right decision, or so you thought. Sure, you disobeyed his direct orders and nearly got yourself killed, but you completed the objective and came back in one piece. You got the intel, confirmed the target's identity and best of all, did it quick and quiet. Why was he angry? You did everything you thought you were supposed to, but here he had you, in his office and standing in front of his desk and staring at him blankly.
"You never fuckin' listen, always disobey my orders despite th' fact your ass would be dead right now if it weren't f'me." His accent is thick, his voice steadily rising as he gets more pissed. "Jesus fuckin' Christ!" In truth, he didn't even know why he was so angry. Was it because you had disobeyed his orders again, or was it the fact you almost got yourself hurt? Or maybe it was the fact you did the mission better than he would have? "I don't know why you're so intent on breakin' the goddamn rules, but it's gettin' old." He snaps, brown eyes piercing yours as he splays his hands out on the surface of his desk, leaning forward so his face was inches from yours, his breath fanning over your face, hot and smelling faintly of alcohol.
"Look, Lieutenant. I may have disobeyed your orders but I saved lives in the process--" "Nearly losing your own." "But I completed the objective." "But you put yourself in danger." "I came back in one piece, didn't I?" "Barely. You escaped that goddamn explosion by a hair." He hisses through gritted teeth, leaning back and putting his hand in his pocket. "You're always so reckless. Do you have no sense of self-preservation?" "You're one to talk about self-preservation," you snort, your eyes widening slightly in disbelief at the mention. "Don't tell me you've already forgotten the time you hopped in front of a bullet to keep a sergeant from taking it?" His eyebrows knit together and his eyes narrowed. "I knew what I was doin', girl. Don't question me or my choices. It's not your fuckin' place to do so."
You snorted again. "Oh, yeah? Don't like it when I call you on your bullshit, huh? If you would have done this, we would have been expected to thank you and ignore the fact you could have been killed. But the moment I do it, you get on my ass."
"I am your lieutenant. I make decisions, you follow them. You don't question why I do what I do. When I tell you to do something, you do it without a second thought. When I order you to not engage, you do not engage." He spits, his eyes narrowing further and his chest tightening in barely contained anger. "You're lucky I don't fuckin' suspend you. The decision you made was a thoughtless, reckless and stupid one." "At least Price would understand where I'm coming from."
His eyes widen, and he laughs. "You think he'd take your side?"
"I think he'd understand why I did what I did. I think he wouldn't give me bullshit for making the right decision."
"Well, sweetheart, that's the thing. He isn't your CO, I am. So if I'm givin' you bullshit for makin' a decision, you stand there and take it and make a goddamn change." You shake your head and laugh. "I know what I did was right. I'm not going to stand down just because you think my execution wasn't proper." He's practically fuming now. He feels his chest tighten further, and he balls his hands into fists. "You're such a brat. For what? Just because you wanna be right?" He steps around the desk, moving and getting in front of you, his frame towering over yours. "You wanna be right so goddamn bad because you're new, huh? You don't want people to think you're weak, hm?" He leans in, his face inches from yours once again as his hands tremble at his sides. Your eyes focus on his brown ones, piercing with a newfound depth you haven't seen before. You take in a breath through your nose and against your will you take notice of his cologne; woody, citrusy. He's so close to you. You feel your body start to tingle a bit from the closeness and the tension.
"Oh, well, look at that..." His head tilts, his eyes softening for just a moment. "Now you've got nothin' to say?" He says, his tone faintly mocking as he backs you up against the wall. He's painfully aware of this situation and he's painfully aware of the source of these feelings, but he's refusing to see it. He's stubborn and he knows you are too. "Nothin' to fuckin' say cause I'm in your face?" He growls, his gaze burning holes into you. He brings his hands upwards and cages you against the wall, looking down at you with an intense mix of lust and anger. To him, it's just pure emotion and you feel slightly intimidated by this newfound situation. So, you do the only thing you know how to do. "Fuck you," you hiss, moving onto your tiptoes to get in his face in return. A chuckle leaves his throat in a growl and he doesn't back down. If anything, he finds this show of dominance to be... charming. Endlessly fucking irritating, but charming. Some twisted part of him wants to crush it; crush your insubordination, make you finally respect him. He takes in a breath and the hairs on his neck stand up as your scent wafts over his senses, and his eyes twitch briefly before he grunts and moves closer. "So fuckin' feisty. But we both know you've got nothin' more than bark." He murmurs, his voice raspy and low and with a tone that makes your heart thump in your chest and your cunt pulse between your legs. Despite yourself, you feel him leeching the fight from your body. You growl slightly. "You don't know what you're talking about," you grumble, your tone just as low as his as your gaze searches his for something other than this overwhelming lust.
"I think I do." He murmurs, tilting his head and leaning in so he's right near your ear. You ball your hands into fists. "I don't think you can fight me, cause you don't wanna. You like it when we get into this, don't you?" He questions, one of his hands coming up and cupping your cheek. "I think you like seein' me pissed. I think you like bein' a fuckin' brat 'cause you know it irritates me, an' you wanna see what I'll do..." He smirks, and you can hear it in the way he talks. "Well, I think I know how to solve your little problem now, eh?" He moves, his hand coming down and cupping your throat, applying gentle pressure to keep you against the wall as he moves back, pulling his mask over his nose and leaning back in to nip at your earlobe. You grunt and you feel yourself melting in his grasp. His other hand comes and holds your hips, his fingers slipping underneath the hem of your shirt as he tilts his head and kisses at the flesh of your neck his hand doesn't engulf. Your body heats up and you suck in a gasp, tilting your head back slightly and unintentionally revealing more of your neck to him. "Mm-hmm." He murmurs. "Yeah, all bark, no fuckin' bite. You wanna be all tough? Takes more than just an act, sweetheart," he grumbles, words punctuated by rough little nips to the flesh of your throat as he withdraws his hand and slides it down your side and to your hips. He moves and lifts your shirt and once again, despite yourself, you lift your arms to make it easier for him. He throws it aside and his gaze travels over you hungrily, focusing on the curves of your chest and your waist, and the way your jeans sit on your hips. He grunts quietly and dives back into your neck, holding your hips and drawing you against him as he starts kissing and biting at your neck with renewed vigor. One of his hands slides to your ass, giving a little squeeze as he hoists you up, still assaulting your neck with kisses and bites. You whine out at him, the sensation making you shudder. He chuckles against your flesh and his other hand is already working at the button of your jeans.
He sets you down, working your pants and panties down your legs, tugging them off hastily before he's kneeling in front of you. A wave of embarrassment comes over you as he gazes up at you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. He grunts slightly and his gaze flickers to your cunt. He slides his hand up the back of your thigh and down before cupping your knee and pulling your leg up and to the side, humming in satisfaction at the way you follow suit and open yourself up for him. His gaze focuses on your cunt, glistening with your slick. You're soaked. He sees it, and he smirks and chuckles a bit when he sees your cheeks flush red. "Pretty fuckin' cunt," he murmurs, before leaning forward and letting his eyes flutter shut as he drags his tongue along your folds, letting out another hum as he tastes you. He grunts and his grip on your leg tightens, his free hand cupping your ass and squeezing as he slips his tongue between your folds and drags it upward along your clit. He swirls it with the tip of his tongue before closing his lips around it to suck gently, grunting as he tastes you and he feels you tremble. Your eyes roll back in your head and you tilt your head back against the wall, your hips arching forward in attempt to get more of that stimulation. He chuckles at your eagerness, giving your ass another squeeze. "Patience, dear." He murmurs against your cunt, before swirling his tongue over your clit with ease and pushing it down, teasing your hole with it before he pushes it inside briefly, moving back up to flick his tongue over your clit in a new pattern that has you trembling and whimpering in seconds. The hand gripping your ass comes to your cunt, and he rolls his pointer and middle fingertip against your hole, gathering your slick. You jolt at the feeling of his cool flesh and you whimper eagerly yet again, a harsh gasp leaving your lips as he pushes those fingers into you. Your walls make an embarrassingly wet noise as he sinks his fingers into your plush heat, and your face flushes and warms up. You're too distracted about how good it feels. He grunts in satisfaction once more, curling his fingers and brushing the tips against that spot along your walls that has your vision going white.
At the same time, he swirls his tongue a bit faster over your clit, using the opportunity of dual stimulation to send you spiraling. And he does, successfully. Your leg trembles and tenses, and your walls squeeze around his fingers as he laps at your cunt like a man starved. He grunts against you as you mewl and the coil in your belly tightens before releasing. Within seconds, you're coming undone on his fingers your back is arching, your hips are bucking, and your hands are pulling him closer. Your vision goes white and you throw your head back, your lips falling apart in a whine of his name, your fingers grasping at the fabric of his balaclava. Your walls tighten again on his fingers, and he helps you ride the orgasm out before he's gently pulling away and dragging his fingers out of your sensitive cunt. You pant and tilt your head forward, watching him withdraw his fingers from you. You whimper at the feeling and you tense up, your gaze flickering to his mouth. You're sensitive, but as you watch him kneeling under you, you find yourself wanting more. He smirks as he notes the way you're looking at him. It's taking a lot of restraint for him to not bend you over his desk and pound you senseless, but... he has a point to make here. He gets to his feet and he looks down at you, cupping your face and placing a chaste kiss to your forehead. "Get yourself dressed. Y've got some training to do." You swallow and blink up at him. "W-Wait... that's... it? You're not gonna--" "Fuck you?" He laughs, as if the suggestion is odd. Your face flushes in embarrassment. "Not after the way you've been actin', love." He murmurs, kissing your forehead. "If you start behavin', then maybe I'll consider givin' you what you really want, eh?"
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callsign-datura · 4 months
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konig who eats A TON to maintain his weight x reader who loves to cook for him but hardly eats?? so cutee omg
You Want The Rest?
pairing: konig x reader
You were both sitting at the table in your shared apartment. He wasn't in uniform. He was sitting with a plate in front of him, piled pretty damn high with eggs and bacon. You always made more for your favorite boy because, well, he was a big guy. A tall ass guy with a good bit of muscle and a bit of belly pudge. He always ate a lot to maintain his weight and you knew this; so you did a lot of cooking and packing non-perishable lunches for him while he was off away on a job. He shifted in his seat and scarfed down what you'd made him, and you were picking at your own food as you scrolled aimlessly on your phone.
He chewed the bite he'd just taken, swallowing as his eyes went up to yours and he leaned over to look at what you were looking at on your phone, taking the last bite of his food as his gaze caught a video of a cat you scrolled by. His eyebrows knit together and he reached out with his other hand, scrolling back up with his thumb so he could watch the cat video. You chuckled a little and shifted so you sat beside him instead of across from him, bringing your plate with you and setting your phone down so he could watch while you finally took a bite of your eggs. You watched him as he watched the video of the cat rolling around and eating catnip, his eyes practically sparkling. You chuckled again and put your chin on your hand, your gaze going back to the phone.
"Cat in German is... Katze, right?"
His eyes went up to you and he smiled, nodding a few times. "Yes, yes, very good." His gaze immediately went back to the phone and he kept watching, somewhat mesmerized by the cute kitty. "You gained any weight since you last checked?" You asked, feeling slightly bad for getting his attention again, but you wanted to know if he was making any progress towards his ideal weight.
His gaze flickered around the phone for a few seconds and he answered in a quiet tone. "No... lost weight. 210 last week."
You frowned a little and glanced back at your plate, then you pushed it towards him. "You want the rest of this?" He looked at the plate, then you, and he smiled. "Schatz," He leaned over and kissed your forehead, petting your hair before eating the rest of the food left on your plate. He took your plate and his own, getting up and going to wash them in the sink. You watched him and crossed your arms, turning your phone off. "You want me to make something special for dinner?" He hummed as he washed the plates. "Whatever you want... but can you make more of those protein peanut butter cookies?" He asked, looking back at you and smiling a bit. "Yeah, of course," you answered quickly, smiling all big at him as you put your phone in your pocket and went to his side, kissing his shoulder once and then taking the plates he washed and drying them off before putting them away. Yeah... you'd definitely make those cookies for him.
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callsign-datura · 3 months
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Heyy
So what about Simon Riley with an independent f!reader
Like she’s just so used to doing things on her own (her being me)
Anyways here’s a flower for u 🌹
thanks for the flower dear! simon 'ghost' riley was independent too. he was used to taking care of himself, leaving no room for anyone else and just being on his own. he wasn't scared of being alone. in fact, he enjoyed it; his alone time charged his social battery and it gave him time to focus on his hobbies.
it was odd when he saw you. you were independent too, quiet and just like him in many ways; it was only normal for you both to drift together as if it was fate. he found himself believing that it was; you were his fate.
when things got serious, he started dedicating things to you. he understood how difficult it was to allow someone to care for you and in the same way he was beginning to allow you to take care of him, he was implementing small ways to care for you. making dinner so you didn't have to, washing your laundry and sorting it just how you liked, leaving money for you to go out and do things. it became normal for you both. he was a bit more open and dependent on you for certain things, but you were a bit more withdrawn, and he understood that. it was hard, and allowing himself to be like this with you was taking a leap of faith.
he gave you time. time to adjust, grow, and flourish; and he couldn't explain how much he loved seeing you depend on him for things. of course, you still both had things you needed to do on your own, and that was a mutual agreement between you.
it was a night when everything had gone to shit for you that he realized that you'd finally adjusted to his presence.
---------------
You swung open the front door with an exasperated sigh, the wind from the outside brushing into the warm house like a cold front. Your eyes stung with tears from work stress, and your footsteps were heavy and tired as you entered the cozy home. You shut the door behind it and rested your back against it, tilting your head back and taking in a deep breath to let yourself release some of the emotions that built during the day. Your boss is a dick, spilling coffee on your favorite work dress, getting reminded of some tragic things that happened in your past--
"darlin'?" You were drawn from your thoughts by the familiar voice of your boyfriend, and you blinked blearily at him as your eyes focused on his form peering out from around the corner. His gaze was concerned, and though you couldn't see much of his face due to the mask he always wore, you practically felt the worry wafting off of him. His hulking frame stepped out into the hall and proceeded towards you with silent footsteps, those brown eyes focused on you as a wave of relief and appreciation fell over you. Tears stung at your eyes again and as soon as he was at arms' length, you embraced him. You never really hugged him that often, and it was odd for you, too. Though as his arms folded around you and you felt the warmth and safety of his hold, your face nuzzled into the bulk of his chest.
"s'alright, love. let it out. 'm here, yeah?" He murmured to you, placing a kiss on your forehead through the fabric of his mask. The tears spilled before you could stop them, and your chest heaved against him as your breath hitched and your grip tightened on him. You balled the fabric of his hoodie up in your fists, and you pulled him closer. Being in his arms was such a relief, you were cursing yourself that you didn't do this sooner... before it got to this point.
A mix of concern and relief welled in his chest as he held you. He rocked you side to side as you sobbed into his chest. Once your cries were muffled, he held you a few minutes longer before pulling away and cupping your cheek, tilting your head back and wiping away the tears from your red cheeks.
"tell me what happened, lovie," He began, his voice low and raspy but so fucking comforting. A few more tears fell and he kissed them away, pulling back so his gaze could focus on yours.
"don't wanna," you responded simply, burying your face back into his chest with a little pout in an attempt to lighten the mood. "boss was just being a dick, and... work was just so overwhelming." your voice was small and meek, and his heart swelled at the sound of it. His chest rumbled with a laugh, and he stroked your hair as he held you.
"well... les' forget about that. you get changed and take a bath, n' I'll order takeout while you're in there. we can watch a movie, too. how's s'at sound?"
You nodded, sniffing quietly. "jus' hold me a bit longer... please?"
He smiled under the mask and he nodded. "however long you want me to, i will. i'd hold you for eternity if it meant y'were safe and happy in my arms."
And he meant that.
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callsign-datura · 4 months
Note
141+ konigs fav position?
Pairing: 141 + Konig x Fem!Reader Ghost? He doesn't have a favorite position. He mostly goes with whatever feels right, but he favors missionary or cowgirl cause he wants to see your pretty face. Cowgirl because he can slip his hand into your hair and pull it back while he's fucking up into you and kiss your neck, leaving heart-shaped hickeys over the flesh while he's pulling at your hips and guiding the pace. Missionary, he likes putting his hands on the backs of your thighs and pushing them up and apart, or pinning them to your chest while he fucks you like a man starved. He loves that look you get in your eyes when you're gripping the pillow you've laid your head on, or when you wrap your arms around his torso and dig your nails into the muscled flesh of his back-- no doubt leaving a mark or two. Price's favorite position? This man fucks from behind, strictly. Likes fucking you doggystyle or reverse cowgirl so he can pull your hair and smack your ass. Sometimes, on nights when he's feeling more sensual, he'll bend you over a dresser, wrap both arms around your torso, and kiss your back as he thrusts into you nice and slow. Sometimes, he'll angle his hips so he hits that spot inside you. Soap... This guy likes any position you do as long as he gets to see your face. Likes putting you on your back on a table and holding the back of your legs and thrust into you quick and hard. He loves seeing your eyes roll back into your head, and he'll get even hornier if you slip a hand between your legs and rub your clit while he fucks you. He also likes leaning over you and pinning your hands above your head, getting a chance to kiss you while you're fucking. Gaz... This guy? Loves fucking you against a wall. Specifically, if your back is against him and he can lift up one of your legs to increase the stimulation he gets from fucking you... something about it... he fucking loves it. Likes choking you from behind or pulling your hair. Usually moves you both onto the bed and either fucks missionary or... ...probably has a thing for prone bone. He'll pick that position when you've had a hard day, or... if you're into somno? He's into that too, fuck yeah, baby. Konig's favorite position-- cowgirl... he's a big guy, so he likes giving you the liberty to control the pace with cowgirl. Likes watching you fuck yourself dumb on his cock; knowing he's practically impaling you? Makes his cock twitch. Like... seriously. If y'all ever fuck doggystyle he'll definitely end up picking you up and holding you up COMPLETELY with a hand around your throat while he pulls you back into him and thrusts into you at the same time so you meet his thrusts. It feels a bit weird but... ngl? he likes the idea of treating you like a ragdoll. He'll never tell you that tho.
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callsign-datura · 2 months
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Hiya! I hope you're doing well, I really really like your writings, I was wondering if you'll do a second part to the "ghosting fuckbuddy ghost" wherever it's to get him to apologize to reader in person, a happy ending or just making amends, have a wonderful day!☆
a/n: thanks! appreciate the love!
He'd been trying to contact you for days. Literally days. Texting you. Not trying any of your social medias because he had no idea if you had any other accounts and at the time he didn't give enough of a shit to figure that out. He was thinking over the development of your entire relationship and kicking himself over everything. Kicking himself for being so goddamn stupid as to fuck up the best thing in his life, kicking himself for being so rude to you... He'd made peace with the fact you probably wouldn't want to be with him anymore.
His texts... he tried his best to make them seem remorseful. Not that he wasn't feeling remorseful, because he definitely fucking was, but he was trying his hardest to portray that in one of the least reliable formats possible; but the only one he could use. He didn't expect a text back but he was hoping for one.
He was sitting in his living room, a book in his lap and his phone in his pocket when he felt it buzz. He took it out of his pocket to check the notification, and his heart sunk... a text from you. "you fucked up, simon. i appreciate the fact you're trying to make up for this and apologize but i can't accept it knowing you'll just take this for granted again." He immediately opened the message, and started typing in a response. "i realized that i fucked up. i know i took you for granted and I'm sorry. you don't have to give this another try and I'm not expecting you to by any means, i just want you to know that I'm sorry. so goddamn sorry for not realizing what i had before it was gone and so goddamn sorry for bein an idiot. if you were to give me another chance i'd do everything in my power to make sure it wasn't wasted." He pressed send, and he watched as the message bubble appeared on his screen, then the text beside it changed to "read". His heart sunk further and he put his phone down, waiting for your response. A moment later his phone buzzed again. "i can't do this unless you're willing to give a relationship a try, or at least go out on a few dates with me. i can't deal with being your fuckbuddy." The word 'fuckbuddy' stung his heart. His vision blurred for a moment but he couldn't help but be filled with a sense of hope at your response. "does 'going out on a few dates' mean starting over and giving this another chance?" No response for a minute or so... "i think starting over would be the best thing for both of us" He stopped for a moment. He blinked and released a relieved breath. "you wanna go out for coffee sometime, then? whenever you're free" A smile spread across his lips as he shifted in his seat and read your response. "i'd love to." "how does tomorrow at 6 sound?" His heart swelled.
"yeah, of course. tomorrow at 6." He put his phone down and he rubbed his face, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding as he tilted his head back. He was more than happy at the fact you were willing to give him a chance... and he vowed to himself that he wouldn't fuck it up this time.
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callsign-datura · 2 months
Note
simon would love puzzles
for real. it's something about doing them. slowly finding the pieces that fit together to make a bigger picture, the simple joy of seeing it come together. when he does them with you? it's even better. the way you make a noise when you find pieces that fit together, the sparkle in your eyes that he shares at the image starts to come together... it's a hobby you share and boy does he fucking ADORE watching you do them. after a while you've learned to do them faster and faster, and sometimes he has to remind you to slow down so you don't finish it faster than you can start to enjoy it.
every time he goes to a store, he keeps an eye out for an aisle that has puzzles. finds ones that have your favorite animal in them, or ones that have landscapes. starts buying puzzle glue and framing them in the house. smiles at the sight of them and is reminded of how you guys love doing them; together.
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callsign-datura · 3 months
Text
price and gaz really do not get enough love like dawg yeah ghost is hot but JOHN PRICE AND KYLE GARRICK?
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