#mw2 imagines

[prettyoatmeal]

Warning: Fem!Reader nsfw, mdni A/N: I hope my absence wasn't too long. I hope everyone had a lovely christmas and happy new year <3 Anyway, soft!Simon has been on my mind so I had to write for him.

“So pretty,” his soft lips pressed a kiss against your swollen clit, making you let out a high pitched hum, "so fucking pretty."

You whined in response, squirming and bucking your hips against his mouth. But Simon just shook his head, not taking any of your whinging.

"Gotta appreciate her first, love." his hands laid perfectly along your hips, digging his rough fingers into your soft flesh. Tongue flat against your clit, revelling in your taste and how reactive you are to his touch. It was heavenly, but he was going just too damn slow for your liking.

You squirmed again, testing his patience, but you couldn't bring yourself to whine again. He was being too good to you. But finally he got the hint.

"I'll give you want you want, lovie, I promise."

His lips enclosed around your sensitive bud and the shock of pleasure made you jolt, arching your back further into him. His hands only encouraged you further, one gripping your waist as the other slid down to your lower back.

Keeping you as flushed as possible against his mouth, you knew it was going to be a long night.

[ragingbookdragon]

She glowered at the man. “I know I get paid an awful amount of money, but I do not get paid enough to be a goddamn babysitter.”

“You’re not babysitting.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing if you send me. I’ll be babysitting.”

Price sighed. “Why do you think you’ll be babysitting?”

She grunted. “Because Ghost’s going to be a dick to Soap and then Soap is going to whine to me that Ghost’s being a giant dick to him and I’m gonna have to intervene like a babysitter. Babysitting.”

“Did you stop to consider that your expertise is what’s sending you on this mission?”

“I’m considering that I’m no longer your favorite child. That’s what I’m considering.”

“I don’t have a favorite and you know that.”

“Oh, fuck you, it’s Gaz and we all know it.”

“I’m the favorite?” Gaz asked and she glared at him until he pursed his lips.

“I’m not going.”

“You’re going.”

“No, I’m not.”

Price sighed and looked at Ghost. “You work her.” He waved and walked off, leaving the room.

“I’m not going,” she repeated, and Ghost stood, walking over. “Don’t you dare try to intimidate me. I know what you’re gonna do and it’s not gonna work.”

Ghost stood in front of her, gazing at her, then he gently took her hand and caressed it, asking, “Love, will you come with me ‘n Johnny to Mexico?”

Her mouth opened and closed, flopping like a fish as her cheeks heated and she muttered, “Oh, you bastard.”

“Please?” he murmured, squeezing her hand. “You know we’re gonna need you.” He leant over, slate gray eyes pleading as he added, “I’m gonna need you with me.”

She let out a groan and gingerly fell into his arms, letting him carry her. “OH, FINE!”

Ghost pressed his masked lips to her head. “Thanks, love.” Gently, he set her down on the floor and stepped over her, leaving her in the floor.

She lay there, staring at the ceiling, then Gaz said, “You are so weak.”

“Oh, shut up! No one likes you.”

He grinned. “Someone’s jealous of the favorite.” Rising from his seat, he walked over and bent down, patting her shoulder. “Have fun babysitting.”

As he walked away, she called out, “Noooooooo! Don’t leave meeeeeeee!”

[bunny-extract]

Can you. Can you do... könig eating out fem!reader? However you see him when hes going down on reader i wanna know 👀

Drooling while writing this and not from my mouth

Warnings: NSFW//Minors DNI,

Thanks for your request, and feel free to send more <3

- A service top until the end, König loves having the focus turned to you during any kind of sex, but with oral he’s little more than a man possessed.

- When he’s doing something he’s good at, König gets cocky - and he knows how good he fucks you.

- He doesn’t like quickies, not the traditional in-out-come-done kind, but in the moments neither of you have much time to spare he isn’t above dragging you somewhere semi-private, undoing your pants with quick, deft jerks before you’re fully behind cover.

- He’s eager, a bit deranged when he first slips his tongue against your clit, the stubble on his chin scratching where his lips soothe.

- When he leaves the hood on, draped over your mound to hide his work from your eyes, you’re left shaking with anticipation for the next lashing of his tongue, pleading with the black-smudged eyes barely visible behind the crudely cut mask.

- You might whine for him to just fuck you, but he’s already got your taste in his mouth. Pushing at his jaw or shoulders is a dangerous thing but you’re empty and he’s being greedy, König, please—!

- When he pulls away you remember that it’s best not to disturb an animal while it’s eating - even if it’s eating you.

“Beg from your knees, then.”

- And if you think for a moment you’ve got him, that when he rips your panties down your thighs and spreads your lips that he’ll cave, even when you hear him undo the buckle of his belt

—wrong.

- He takes a solid and heady line licked from your clit to your ass, burying his nose there while gathering your slick from the source.

- He likes embarrassing you with the noises sex makes. Egregiously slurping and lapping his tongue between your folds. When your feet come to kick at his back he takes pleasure in hiking your hips up further, challenging you to fight more. “You’ll have to try harder to keep me away, won’t you.”

-Cocky, yeah?

- When you both can afford the time, he really likes to draw it out.

- He just loves the way you fuss when he takes his time tracing the pulse at your neck, rubs his hands over the hardened tips of your breast until you’re pushing at his wrist, urging him lower. He’ll follow, but it’s the give your thigh he’s after, “Everything about you is so soft—”

- He’s always had a fixation on your legs, his heavy stare seeking out the contours of your thighs and the slope of your hip whenever you’re near. He’s learned to keep his head high and his gaze forward instead of low and to the ground, but sometimes the training slips out of him.

- He’ll strip you of your pants but keep you in your underwear. König might not tell you this without a little coaxing, but he likes keeping your panties on as long as possible.

- Strokes his thumb over your clit while mouthing at your inner thigh, eyes watching the cotton try to soak up all your slick.

- When you’re just as needy as he is, he concedes, watching them roll down every inch of your legs. It’s his favorite part to slowly reveal the mess beneath. Your puffy lips soaked with your own need, begging for him.

- König might think about pocketing your panties every time, but worries it might be too much. Instead he drapes the wet cotton over his crotch, happy to ruin them further.

- Takes his time fingering you, even if he’s not going to fuck you proper. Twists and curls each digit against your walls until they’re slippery enough to pump his cock with, the wet noise of it causing you to whine.

- You can feel the shiver that drags up his spine, the flex of his shoulders.

- My god this man’s shoulders.

- The image of having your thighs spread on them, his black-smudged eyes watching you from between is enough to keep you from going insane when he isn’t there. When all you have are your own wet fingers, helplessly lost trying to navigate your own body with just the memory of him.

- Insufficient, not when you could have him fucking you with the thick of his tongue instead.

- You come on his face with little effort, you have been over the course of him taking you apart. He doesn’t take it as a cue to stop, just to let you rest.

- Goes back to nipping at your ankles, his head pillowed against the softness of your thigh. He looks up at you like a puppy begging for a walk, eyes big and soft. Patient, but so, so eager.

- It’s a few more boneless orgasm later that he moans against you, panting hot against your clit when he finally pulls off. Eyes dazed like he was the one that—

Wait did you…?

Heh. I’ll need a moment.

- His hands drag up from your ankles and down to your ribs, roaming at your nipples lazily. Aftercare is sweet, quiet. Wet kisses against your knees and a finger tracing the shell of your ear.

- When it pulls, you moan. “You look hungry, little thing.”

- He’s caught you looking down at him, where his cock is now half hard. Still slick and dripping with both of your arousal. He pinches your jaw between his fingers, forcing your eyes up to his.

- “Would you like a taste?”

- Greedy.

[sailorsolar12]

Homecoming (Alejandro Version)

Character: Alejandro Vargas

Pairing: Alejandro x Reader (y/N is not used)

Words: 1.1k

Warnings: None

A/N: Please be nice. :)

Alejandro Vargas had spent the last eight months on a deployment that seemed like an eternity. From the arid deserts to the freezing mountains, he had faced it all, serving his country with unwavering dedication. He had fought alongside his comrades, forged unbreakable bonds, and witnessed the chaos of warfare up close. But through it all, he held on to a single image that kept him going: the warm embrace of his significant other eagerly waiting for him at home.

As the transport plane touched down on familiar soil, Alejandro felt a mix of emotions bubbling within him. Relief, exhaustion, excitement—they all blended into a symphony of sensations that tugged at his heart. The scent of the homeland filled his nostrils, and he couldn't help but crack a small smile. The anticipation of reuniting with the one person who had been his rock throughout this ordeal was almost overwhelming.

His journey home wasn't long, yet every minute felt like an eternity. His mind raced with memories of the countless conversations they'd shared over choppy satellite connections and the letters that had kept their connection alive. Those letters—scribbled with ink and filled with sentiments of love and longing—had been his lifeline, a way to stay grounded in the midst of chaos.

Finally, the cab pulled up to their shared apartment building. As he stepped out of the vehicle, Alejandro's heart pounded like a drum. He glanced at the window of their apartment, a small light glowing from within. His hands trembled slightly as he inserted the key and turned the lock. The door swung open, revealing the haven he had missed so dearly.

"Hey, I'm home," he called out, his voice filled with a mix of exhaustion and eagerness.

The apartment was warmly lit, and there they were—the one who had stolen his heart, their significant other. With short, vibrant hair and a beaming smile, they rushed towards him, moving with an energy that could light up the entire room. Alejandro's heart soared as they leaped into his arms, wrapping themselves around him in a tight embrace.

"Welcome back, hero!" they exclaimed, their voice filled with genuine elation.

Alejandro held them as if he never wanted to let go. The smell of their hair, the feel of their warmth—it was all so real and surreal at the same time. He closed his eyes and simply breathed in, feeling a sense of completeness that he hadn't experienced in months.

"I missed you so much," he managed to whisper, his voice choked with emotion.

"I missed you too, more than words can say," they replied, pulling back slightly to look into his eyes. "But now you're here, safe and sound."

They stood there for a moment, just looking at each other, their eyes communicating volumes beyond what words could convey. Then, as if unable to contain their excitement any longer, they pulled him towards the living room.

"Sit, sit! I've got something special for you," they said, their voice a mix of mischief and anticipation.

Curious, Alejandro obliged and settled onto the couch. They disappeared into the kitchen briefly before returning with a plate of homemade cookies. It was a simple gesture, but it spoke volumes about the depth of their connection. These were the little things he had missed—the shared moments, the ordinary pleasures of life.

"Cookies?" he chuckled, raising an eyebrow playfully.

"Hey, a hero deserves the sweetest welcome home," they retorted, winking at him.

As they sat there, munching on cookies and catching up on each other's lives, Alejandro felt a sense of ease wash over him. The weight of his experiences abroad was still there, but being with them made it all feel a bit lighter. They had a unique way of grounding him, of bringing him back to the present moment.

In the days that followed, Alejandro and his significant other fell into a rhythm that felt so familiar, yet so new. He reveled in the little things—the scent of their morning coffee, the way they hummed as they cooked dinner together, and the comfortable silence that they could share without any awkwardness. They spent hours talking about everything they had missed, and Alejandro found himself opening up about things he hadn't even shared with his closest comrades.

One evening, as they sat on the balcony watching the sunset, Alejandro found himself overcome by a surge of gratitude. He turned to them and took their hand in his.

"You know, coming back to you is the greatest gift I could have asked for," he confessed, his voice soft yet sincere.

They smiled and leaned their head against his shoulder. "And having you back here, safe and sound, is all I ever wanted. You're my hero, Alejandro."

As the weeks turned into months, Alejandro continued to adjust to civilian life. It wasn't always easy—there were moments when the memories of the battlefield would resurface, but his significant other was there to hold his hand and remind him of the strength he possessed. With their unwavering support, he started attending therapy sessions to process his experiences, slowly finding healing in their presence.

One day, as they walked hand in hand through a park, Alejandro turned to them with a thoughtful expression.

"You know, I've been thinking," he began, his gaze earnest. "I've been through so much, seen things that I can't even put into words. But through it all, you were my constant. You kept me grounded, reminding me of the goodness that still exists in the world."

They stopped walking and looked at him, their eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and affection.

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you," he continued, his voice steady. "I want to wake up every day and know that you're by my side, facing whatever challenges come our way, just like we faced my deployment together."

Tears glistened in their eyes as they realized the weight of his words. Without saying a word, they pulled him into a tight hug, their embrace saying more than any words ever could.

And so, in that park, surrounded by the beauty of nature and the echoes of their journey, Alejandro Vargas knelt on one knee and asked the question that would seal their fate. "Will you marry me?"

Their joyful laughter filled the air as they nodded enthusiastically, tears of happiness streaming down their cheeks. Alejandro slipped the ring onto their finger, sealing their commitment to a future filled with love, resilience, and shared experiences.

From that day forward, their story continued—a tale of two souls who had faced the trials of war and the challenges of life, only to find their way back to each other's arms. With their love as a guiding light, Alejandro and their significant other faced each new day with renewed strength, knowing that as long as they were together, they could conquer anything that came their way.

[chaosandmarigolds]

Simon Riley! who isn't traditional in the gross way but in the he wants to protect you and make sure you don't feel like you have to provide for yourself, he wants to be a safety net, something to rely on

Simon Riley! Who made it a point to buy your dream house as soon as you were married,

Simon Riley! Who didn't expect houses to require so...much...work

"Baby! The water won't turn off?"

"The fuck you mean it won't turn off just-" Simon grumbled as he dropped the moving box and walked into the kitchen, grabbing the handle of the faucet and trying to pull it, only for it to come flying off. Leaving him dumbfounded and you a giggling disaster.

Simon Riley! Who likes handy man tasks as much as the next guy but the people at the store are beginning to know his name

Simon Riley! Who didn't have a dad to teach him some stuff like plumbing and whatnot so he calls Price

"Oi, Cap-"

"She came to her senses and ran away, yeah?"

"No...I need you to tell me ho' to turn off th' water."

Simon Riley! Who does know how much you love watching him do yard work but doesn't dwell because these godddamn weeds-

Simon Riley! Who loves nothing more than watching you paint the walls of the house, finds it like to be a scene of a movie and it would be a lie if the reality was much better than the cinema

Simon Riley! Who hates facebook because you would randomly send him across the city because you found an old China cabinet you thought would be perfect

Simon Riley! Who doesn't care how his buddies tease him about becoming a domestic civilian so soon, because he would happily fix a thousand houses if it meant a thousand more years with you

(Comments and feedback make my day! annnd yeah that's it <3 )

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Simon Riley was a man who hardly praised anyone. As a man of few words, a simple nod was all he’d give to anyone who managed to impress him.

At first, you were no different. Even when it came to sex, the most you’d ever get from Simon was a soft smile, or the occasional grunt and groan that he let fall from his lips.

That was, until one night, when Simon was balls deep inside of you, a simple “good girl” escaped from his lips. He didn’t miss the way your pussy tightened around him, the soft mewl that fell from your pretty little lips at his words.

“You like that, huh? You like being called a good girl?” Simon teased, stilling his cock inside of you. He watched with a grin as your eyes fluttered open, your bottom lip pouting out slightly.

“Simon.” You begged, tightening your hold on his shoulders. “Please.”

“You do, don’t you?” Simon cooed, sliding his cock out of you painstakingly slow. “Are you my good girl?”

You gave a lazy nod, causing your lover to chuckle softly. You felt a kiss pressed to your temple, as Simon’s cock rammed back into your tight hole once more.

“My good fucking girl, always taking me so well.” Simon chanted, relishing in the way your walls squeezed around him yet again. “This pretty little cunt was made just for me.”

It was as if that night had awoken something within him, and the soft praises continued to fall from his lips from then on. Simon found that he fucking loved to praise you, his pretty girl.

After all, you were his good girl, and you deserved to be treated as such.

[suguann]

When you first introduce him, Simon instantly knows that he hates your now ex-boyfriend—especially after he broke up with you only two months into the relationship, and the reason behind it sets his teeth on edge.

You’re perfect and so sweet; how could he—

“He broke up with me because…I um…Do I really have to say it? It’s embarrassing.” 

He bumps his knee into yours because he really fucking sucks at saying the right thing when the moment calls for it. “You don’t have to say anything.”

With a huff, you get a little flustered and glance down into your glass of beer, brows furrowed. “I couldn’t make him fit.” 

It’s so soft, but he hears it as if you’d shouted it across the bar.

The only thought he can think of is that your ex-boyfriend is an idiot once he has your back pressed up against his chest and trembling thighs spread over top of his. Three of his thick fingers already work deep inside of you, filling the room with filthy squelching sounds and your breathy moans.

His thumb carefully drags over your clit, loving how you twitch in his arms. “See? Someone just needed to stretch your little pussy properly, huh?”

“Mhm.” You nod, pressing yourself further into him, thighs butterflying open. “It feels so good.”

“You’re so loose and wet. I bet my cock would slip right in.”

Your walls clench and flutter around him, and it takes everything in him not to toss you onto the bed and fuck you into his sheets. “Simon, can you fuck me? Please?” 

It’s hard to deny you when you ask so sweetly, but he can’t give you what you want—not yet. You whine when he pulls one of his fingers out, but it cuts off into a surprised squeak when he grabs your smaller hand to bring it between your thighs. 

“Put one of your fingers inside your pussy.”

You turn your head to look up at him, kiss-bitten lips pulled into a pout. “But—”

“Come on, love, be good for me.” Teeth nip your jaw as a warning. “I know you can be so good for me.”

Slowly, you ease your finger in beside his with little pants of his name. His cock jumps against your back as he watches your cunt open up to suck in the intrusion—it makes his stomach twist. Simon traps your finger between his and curls them alongside his inside you, tearing a sharp cry from your chest.

“You’re so gorgeous.” His words are raw, rumbling somewhere deep within his chest. “I’m gonna make you feel so good. So full. Better than your boyfriend ever could.”

Masterlist

[yawnderu]

There's only 3 people Simon follows on social media. Gaz, Soap... and a pornstar he's been obsessed with for months.

He loves coming back from missions and seeing you promoting your new content on Twitter, always getting fucked by a different person— never the same man or woman twice.

He'd be lying if he said he doesn't think he can fuck you better than the men jackhammering into you without care, or the women who keep staring at the camera rather than focusing on your lovely body. He could do it so much better, stuffing your pretty cunt full of eight inches of thick, veiny meat.

Warm water runs down his body as he rubs his throbbing cock, calloused hands toying with the angry, red tip before he smears it all over his shaft, almost cumming at the wet sound that rings around the shower when he jerks off again.

His leaking precum sticks to his hand, begging him to keep going while he scrolls down your Twitter. Half-lidded brown eyes struggle to stay open when he sees a new photo of you, groaning at the way your bright smile overpowers the thick cum smeared all over your lovely tits, looking so proud of finishing another man off and getting marked.

His boner is almost painful at this point. He's sure his arm is going to get a cramp after this, but he's too far gone to care.

Simon's fantasies run wild as he keeps scrolling and liking your new content. He's barely lucid enough to register the newest video, looking at the skimpy clothing you're wearing being ripped off by an older man, cock thrusting into you wildly, almost punishingly. There's nothing more lovely than your expression when you get penetrated, wide eyes looking at the camera and pretty lips turned into an "o" shape before you smile, clearly enjoying every single inch of meat stuffed into your needy cunt.

“Fuck.” His hand works faster down his shaft, the familiar tight feeling in his heavy balls returning while he lets out a low moan. A tidal wave of euphoria hits him when his half-lidded brown eyes return to the video, muscles flexing and tensing up as he releases thick ropes of cum onto the floor, letting the water wash it away.

His hips buck uncontrollably as he squeezes the last drops of thick cum out of his cock with a couple of low groans, hand finally slowing down.

His muscles finally relax, chest rising up and down while he tries to recover from the intense orgasm. He can't help but look at the ropes of release being washed away, secretly hoping they were in you instead.

His phone vibrates in his hand, and he immediately looks at it with a raised eyebrow, breath catching in his throat when he reads the notification announcing that you follow him back.

Part II | Part III

[v1x3n]

[ch1n1tahwrites]

Husband!Simon

i think i have a problem yall :) :(

Husband!Simon who would fix all the things in the house, even if he didn't know how to do it because "Why do i nee' someon' in my house fuckin' aroun''

Husband!Simon who would walk around the house shirtless

Husband!Simon who had a whole plan to ask you to marry him, but you found the ring in his underwear drawer (smh)

Husband!Simon who either way, still proposed to you in front of the ferris wheel, like your mother had told him was your dream.

Husband!Simon who if you already had kids, would always make breakfast for them

Husband!Simon who would turn the A/C up to 67 degrees so you would cuddle next to him

Husband!Simon who would have a breeding kink

"Cmon darlin' let me cum in that beautiful womb"

you whine and buck your hips at his remark

"Oh yeah hun you woul' like it huh?"

Husband!Simon who would watch you do your makeup outside the bathroom its gonna get ruined later anyways

Husband!Simon who would spoil you. tax season, oh baby they're done already. Pandora bracelet? oh its coming in two weeks. A baby? oh he'll happily deliver :)

Husband!Simon who would leave marks all over your body, he just couldn't have people not knowing you were his, what was he supposed to do, its totally not like you have a 24K diamond on that ring finger....

Husband!Simon who would love you will all of his heart, in sickness and in health and definetly in that pussy.... :3

yall i need help....... :3 ALSO THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE ON MY PAGE I APPRECIATE IT SO MUCH, ISTG I DIDNT EVEN REALIZE I WAS BLOWING UP UNTIL I CHECKED MY LIKES AND FOLLOWERS IN SCHOOL THANK YOU SLUTSSSS

[prettyoatmeal]

Simon that cries during sex!!

He just can’t help shedding a tear or two.. or maybe a few more while he’s inside you.

He’ll come home from duty and he’s so pent up. He’s missed you so much and needs you so bad.

It gets him on his knees begging.

If you’re asleep by the time he comes home, he’ll wake you up with wet kisses on the back of your neck as he grinds against your ass.

“Please, Doll. Need t’ feel you around me.”

And he’s barely able to choke out any more words as he lubes you both up, sliding into you, filling you up so perfectly and moulding your insides to the shape of his cock, taking in every shudder and breath and moan you let out as he uses you.

He almost just wants to stay like that all night because you feel so good, so slick, so tight. Your walls pulse around him so deliciously. But he also needs to cum so bad.

He starts thrusting but he’s so pathetic about it :( burying his face into the back of your neck and whining as he slowly takes you from behind.

“Missed you.. N-Need you so bad.”

It’s just so intimate, you letting him use you like this.

His feelings get to him, barely able to keep his pace going, hips stuttering before he spills himself deep inside you and chokes out breathy sobs into your shoulder. Half because he‘s so grateful and loves you so much, and half because he feels bad about not waiting until you’ve finished.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’ll make it up to you in the morning, I promise.”

And he’s pulling you right up against him, his sobs going quiet and slowly stopping. He’s wrapping his arms tightly around you as he’s cock warming you all night and making sure his cum stays nice and deep inside you.

Masterlist here!

[ragingbookdragon]

He glowered at her, seething, “You cannot just come into my work and berate me like this.”

She glared right back at him, retorting, “I can. I did. Here I am, tough guy, what’re you gonna do?” She thrust a finger into his chest. “You are a child. How many times do I have to tell you to put your coffee cup in the dishwasher or back by the coffee pot when you’re done with it?”

“I forgot.”

“Oh ho! You forgot? Do I need to staple a list of instructions for basic house rules to your forehead, Alejandro? Put your clothes in the hamper! Put the toilet seat down! Lock the doors!” her glare darkened, and he got nose to nose with her.

“Vete a casa. Ahora.”

“Con quién joder crees que estás hablando?”

“Estoy hablando con mi esposa que necesita recordar quién soy.”

She went silent, eyebrows raising on her forehead and Rudy put a hand over his mouth, muttering, “Oh mierda.”

“What? What’d Alejandro say?” Soap whispered.

“The wrong thing to the wrong woman.”

Her expression turned of one from shock to resignation and she crossed her arms over her chest as she said, “You can sleep at the base tonight.”

Alejandro matched her demeanor. “Sometimes I sleep at the base just so I can get away from you.”

“You’re such an ass,” she scowled.

“Te casaste conmigo,” he shrugged, and she growled at him before turning on her heel and stomping for the door. “I love you, mi alma!” he shouted after her.

She flipped the bird over her head. “Don’t be late for dinner, you ass!”

He hurried around the table, cupping his hands to his mouth. “Dime que me amas!” he shouted. “Mi alma! Dime!”

“I love you!” she yelled back. “But go straight to hell!”

“No puedo esperar a verte allí!”

Soap blinked, looking between the apparent wife as Alejandro chased after her. “What the fuck just happened?”

Rudy exhaled through his nose. “A daily occurrence. C’mon,” he said, tipping his head to the side. “We’d better start getting this planned out.”

“What about Alejandro?”

“Oh, they’re gonna be busy for about an hour. In her car. If you catch—”

“I got it!”

[bunny-extract]

HIIIII can I put in a request for task 141 + Alejandro for a reader who smokes a lot (like weed and is kind of a chain smoker) and how they would act while high?

did someone post a copy of my diary ,,, i got obliterated while writing and hardly remember these sooo if they’re a lil self-indulgent you can’t blame me!

141 & Alejandro x Stoner!reader

est. relationships, mostly …sfw but they’re high and in love what can i say mdni

Captain John Price rolls the fattest, filthiest spliffs, there’s nothing you can say to change my mind.

When he splits the skin of one of his cigars and sprinkles globs of mossy green throughout you, for maybe the first time in your life, think you should say no to a blunt. It’s a behemoth of a thing, and he takes his time wetting the leaf on his tongue before deftly, delicately putting it back together. His fingers are sticky with crystals and you want - not for the first time, not by a long shot - to suck the aged taste of cigar off of each one.

Price catches you staring, an eyebrow raising in cheeky greeting when you bring your focus back to him. The tips of his fingers brush against your anticipating lips, and you’re half high before you even taste him off the leaf.

Whatever shit he’s getting, it is strong. You have to tap out before the thing even begins to burn properly, wordlessly trying to communicate that when you bury your face in his shoulder. His amusement is smokey, seen in the creases at the corner of his crescent eyes, contouring his cheeks. Smooths his arm over you to keep you tucked in while he cuffs away.

Price likes getting to a state of couch-lock when he smokes, valuing tenfold the luxury of sitting still when it’s not on his belly looking down a scope. If not for the help he’d be wired, mind racing, surely aching, even if he won’t admit it. Price groans up and down like he’s got grandkids, swears it’s for laughs and not because he is old and weathering—not at all.

(“What about the knee popping, sir?” — “Come lay over them and tell me, sunshine.”)

Woof. Price needs more than just a bit of weed to turn off. Few orgasms ought to do.

—

Simon “Ghost” Riley doesn’t smoke weed, but is particularly fond of teasing you about the habit. He’s just a lover boy who likes bullying his schoolyard crush. Pretty typical.

It isn’t your fault while waiting for him to pick you up you took a few pulls from your pen, maybe hitting it a little more desperately when you heard his bike purr around the corner of your street.

Through his balaclava and helmet, Ghost can smell that burn cart you refuse to get rid of on your mouth, eyes paying close attention when you fit the offered helmet on, shyly smiling when you can’t get the clasp into the right spot.

“What am I gonna do with you?” he chided, words coming through the built-in headset where the bass of his voice was felt right against your ear. Sinful fucking investment you didn’t even have the chance to steer him away from. Simon knew what he was doing—yours is the nicer one, anyway.

Ghost was quick to swoop into your space, knocking your knees apart to insert himself as close as possible. “Already smoked yourself stupid, hm? Need me to do everything for you?”

Your eyes roll, maybe flutter. Head screaming yes, yes, yes.

The tugging on his gloves caught your attention, the reveal of his long, notched fingers churning anticipation behind your navel. Your skin was burning even before his hands made contact, firm but gentle while lifting your chin, teasing where they lingered against your pulse, the center of your throat.

“How can I be sure you’re not just gonna fall off? Having a hard time standing upright,” he mocks, pushing your legs further apart. Your hand reaches out, clutching his jacket to balance yourself

“Be nice to me,” you plead, tone sweet, a bit helpless. Ghost has always pretended it had no effect on him, but he’s been sloppy and you’re too sharp for your own damn good. “C’mon, I’m sensitive when I’m high.”

“I’ve noticed,” he muttered back, the blunt tips of his nails drawing a down the hollow of your neck. You can still feel how the shiver that knocked up your spine pushes you further into his hands. Orchestrated with an intimate knowledge of your strings.

It’s the half-there look that always gets him, every bit of dreamy and dumb. He knocks his helmet into yours, trying to pull himself away. You spot the pink along his cheekbones when he helps you onto the bike and smile. Beneath his layers of protective padding your fingers found the familiar wave of his happy trail, locking your hands there beneath his jacket. . “Forgot my gloves. You don’t mind, right?”

He was never that good at hiding it.

—

John “Soap” McTavish’s only experience with the stuff was the dry, seedy ditch-weed nabbed by the sewers outlets in his hometown. Curbed him from the habit, not that he didn’t find is indulgences elsewhere. Honestly, he thought the stuff didn’t work on him.

Shrugs when you offer him an edible and just stares at the little gummy in the center of his palm.

“This all I need?” he’d asked. “That’s all you need,” you answered.

Then again ten minutes later. “Should I feel it yet?” — “No, Johnny.”

Twenty. “I think I feel it…” — “Probably not.” — “Yeah, no. Sure they’re not duds?” — “Careful,” you chimed with sage warning. “Say that now and you’ll be on the moon.” — “Bleedin’ counting on it, bonnie.”

It’s a good hour later while you’re both splayed on the floor playing Smash Bros that all of a sudden Soap starts actually being funny. For half of his banter you aren’t entirely sure you can unravel the English from his Scottish, accent thickening tenfold, while the other has you incapacitated, writhing on the floor.

Soap is certain that shit they lit on fire in a water bottle was literally just a bunch of weeds.

Johnny’s got a good sense of humor, but it’s impossible how funny he is high. He doesn’t realize the comedic timing he has sometimes, making his already theatrical expressions even more fantastic. It coaxes you from the giggles to that kind of full-belly laughter leaving you watery eyed and gasping for air. Leaves him looking flushed pink, chest puffed with pride and eyes practically lit up with little hearts.

Johnny had grabbed your ankle, dragging you toward him with only half his strength behind it. “And what’re you laughing at, aye, bonnie? What’s ticklin’ ya?”

Game forgotten, Soap ducks to your ankle to kiss, then the back of your knee. Keeps you squirming when he grazes his chin over the curve of your ass, small of your back. Crawling up your body until he’s stretched over you and can whisper in your ear,

“Don’t stop yet, love. Sweetest fuckin’ noise I’ve ever heard.”

He’s slumped to the side of you, the edible starting to roll over him in dizzying waves. Happy little noises leave his half-parted lips while your nails follow the planes cut by corded muscle across his arms, barely tickling the dark hair there on every odd pass.

He might feel a bit bad for letting you dote over him while he just lays there, but greened is an understatement. Soap understands your sage bit of warning earlier. Feels it from the weightless, blinding surface of the fuckin’ moon.

—

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick likes to take ‘walks’ when he smokes. This is a hike, Garrick — Keep up, love, or this is all mine.

A true gentleman, Kyle already has a perfect pearled joint tucked behind his ear when you meet up. He lights it between your lips and wipes the tears off your cheeks when you get overconfident and hold it wrong, making you cough. “Easy does it now,” he’d sooth, a touch smug. He always is when you agree to go along with his ideas. There’s just always a catch, you know it.

The trail you follow is simple, the wire of his headphones stretching between you, a playlist of songs you’d collected specifically to show each other in your ears. While your eyes are lost in the oversaturated scenery, Gaz is studying the way your lips move along to the music, the curve of your nose. You pass the sweetened paper back and forth until resin is staining the filter and your heads are as syrupy as the smoke.

Kyle keeps a hand tethered to you at all times, like a boy with a balloon. His smooth fingertips are a pillar of support against the fleshy back of your arm, barely there but exactly what you need to keep upright.

Depending on what he’s smoking it’s either endless chatter or deep, musing silence until he’s a bit more back in his body and less in his mind. When it’s the former you’re always treated to his quick wit, and expectant of the most beautiful bullshit prose about leaves blowing in the wind, or the meaning of life, and insists it isn’t just because he’s high. It is very much because he is high.

You keep a Notes page to write down all of his delirious predictions and proclamations, both brilliant and absurd. One definitely outweighs the other. You and Gaz cannot agree which that is.

—

Alejandro Vargas doesn’t smoke, and is pretty intolerant to the stuff. He’s got neither the time or desire for it. The Colonel, famously, doesn’t even drink, love.

This is all information you learned after you found yourself in his lap, a half-smoked joint tucked behind the ear his lips were barely moving against, whispering what you could only half translate. A lot of ‘I want’ and ‘you have’ going around, hot and promising when they moved over your thrumming pulse. It had you giggling, trusting his broad hands to keep you upright while you turned to jelly against them.

The talk catches you quick enough, and though you’re a little embarrassed the news struck with a wash of emboldened delight when Alejandro sought you out again and again.

There’s no pressure from him to cut your habit, but you stick to edibles and blasting through carts in the bathroom instead, always making sure to cover up the scent.

Alejandro is, unsurprisingly, aware every time you do it. His nose is too sharp not to be able to pick it out, and though he hates the smell of pot, Alejandro found himself drawn to the lingering, heady mix of it on your skin since that night, seeking it out on the collar of your jacket, against the corner of your mouth. It’s rare these days that he catches it, but when you join him in bed after a small walk around the backyard, he finds himself wishing you hadn’t blown the smoke downwind. Makes him think of that night, and he breathes against your ear again, heavy.

“What am I going to do with you, pajarito.”

From where you lay against him, your fingers traced the word over his flank. It was cute, little bird. You’ve been called that before.

Your voice was thick with sleep, eyes barely closed when you asked, “Do I look like a bird, Ale?”

The hand still tracing the word is pressed against his lips, humor rumbling and coy when he kisses your knuckle, the flat of his teeth felt between his split smile. Not an answer, but you took it for one, and drifted.

Against your ear, Alejandro half-whispered low in his throat, “It isn’t your features. It’s because you get high like you have wings.”

Through your sleep, you smiled. Checks out.

[sailorsolar12]

Homecoming (Price Version)

Character: Captain John Price

Pairing: Price x GN Reader (Y/N is not used)

Words: 998

Warnings: none

John Price had spent the last six months in the midst of chaos, his life consumed by the demands of warfare. As a battle-hardened soldier, he had faced countless dangers, survived unthinkable situations, and witnessed the brutality of conflict. But now, the time had finally come for him to return home.

The plane ride back felt surreal. The roar of the engines and the turbulence beneath him seemed distant and unimportant, as his mind was fixated on the thought of being reunited with the one person who had kept him going through it all. As he gazed out of the window, he imagined the moment he would step off the plane and into the arms of his significant other.

Finally, the wheels of the plane touched down, and John's heart raced with anticipation. He collected his belongings and walked down the gangway, his steps quickening with each passing moment. As he entered the bustling terminal, he scanned the crowd, searching for the familiar face that had sustained him during his deployment.

And then, there they were – standing near the arrival gate, holding a sign that read "Welcome Home, John!" Tears welled up in John's eyes as he rushed forward, dropping his bags and pulling them into a tight embrace. The embrace was filled with all the longing, relief, and love that had built up over the months of separation.

"It's really you," John whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

They pulled back slightly to look at each other, their eyes locking in a gaze that communicated more than words ever could. In that moment, the war, the distance, and the pain all faded away, leaving only the present, where they were finally together again.

"I missed you so much," they said, their voice trembling.

"I missed you too," John replied, his voice a mix of gratitude and vulnerability.

As they stood there, holding each other, the bustling airport faded into the background. The noise of the crowd was replaced by the beating of their hearts, a rhythm that had somehow stayed connected despite the miles that had separated them.

Eventually, they pulled away, and John wiped away the tears that had escaped his eyes. "I can't believe I'm finally home," he said, a smile breaking through his exhaustion.

"Well, you better believe it," they said, their energy infectious. "Because we have a lot of catching up to do!"

They linked their arm through John's, leading him towards the exit. As they walked through the airport, they chatted animatedly about everything that had happened while John was away – the little moments, the triumphs, and even the mundane details that had become so important in their absence.

Outside, a cool breeze greeted them, and John took a deep breath, savoring the sensation of freedom. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden glow over everything. It was a stark contrast to the war-torn landscapes he had become accustomed to.

They led John to a car parked nearby, and as they drove through the city, John marveled at how much had changed and yet how much remained the same. The city lights twinkled like stars against the darkening sky, and for the first time in months, John felt a sense of peace settle over him.

Finally, they pulled up to a cozy apartment building. "Welcome home," they said, their voice brimming with excitement.

John stepped out of the car and followed them inside. The apartment was filled with warmth and the comforting scent of home-cooked food. It was a stark contrast to the barracks he had called home for so long.

As they sat down to eat, John listened intently as they recounted their own experiences over the past months. Their stories were filled with laughter, anecdotes, and a contagious enthusiasm for life that was both uplifting and soothing. For the first time in a long while, John found himself genuinely smiling, his heart feeling lighter than it had in a long time.

After dinner, they moved to the living room, where they had set up a cozy spot with blankets and pillows. They sat close, their fingers intertwined, as they talked about their dreams, their hopes for the future, and all the plans they had for the time they would spend together.

As the night grew darker, they shifted the conversation towards lighter topics, sharing funny anecdotes and playful banter. They spoke about the quirks that had been revealed during their time apart and reminisced about the memories they had created together.

"You know," they said, their voice softening, "even though you were far away, I felt your presence with me every day. Your strength, your courage – they've always been my inspiration."

John looked at them, his heart swelling with gratitude. "And you, my love, were the light that guided me through the darkest moments. Knowing that I had you waiting for me kept me going, even when things seemed impossible."

They leaned in, their lips meeting in a gentle kiss that held all the tenderness and passion that had built up over the months. In that moment, the world around them ceased to exist, and there was only the two of them, bound by a love that had proven unbreakable, even in the face of war.

As the night grew deeper, they settled into each other's arms, finding comfort in the closeness that had eluded them for so long. The war was still a part of John's past, but in this moment, it felt like a distant memory, overshadowed by the love that enveloped them.

As they drifted off to sleep, entwined in each other's embrace, John realized that coming home wasn't just about returning to a physical place. It was about finding his way back to the heart that had sustained him, the heart that had been waiting for him all along. And as he closed his eyes, he knew that no matter where life took them next, their love would always be his guiding light.

[simonzmama]

‘magin sweet virgin simon finally hittin it.

your legs sit hiked up on the thick muscles sittin’ atop his hipbones, his fingers digging deep into the sheets, practically twisting em off the mattress as he breathes out lowly.

his hips press forward further, his cock burning n stomach rolling into taut knots that have his nails digging holes into your pretty pink sheets.

you drag your hands up his chest slowly watching as the muscles pull tight n his hips stutter. his eyes flicker up to yours, skin breakin out in a mess of tender of goosebumps. “breathe, baby. you’re goin’ red on me, si.”

he laughs lowly, throat thick as he bottoms out. his thighs press against the back of yours, neck rolling as he tries his absolute best to contain the way his orgasm shivers down his spine.

“oh my… fuck,” he groans, teeth takin ahold of his tongue to silence the multitude of noises rising up his throat. his eyes flutter to a shut slowly as he tries to get the image of your sweet body outta his mind, or the fact that your cunt is suckin’ n holdin’ him there so tightly.

his head drops into the crook of your neck as he slowly pulls back, teeth nippin at your soft skin as your head arches back. his teeth bare in a soft hiss, jaw ticking against your chin. you drag your nails down his back gently, a pretty moan spilling free off your lips at the soft drag of his thick cock against your warm, silky walls.

n that’s what does it for him, the sound of that melodic whine. it plays n plays in his mind on repeat until he’s suddenly forcing himself back into you, hips a shaky stuttery mess.

n the groan, the drawn out whimper that tumbles off his lips is cruel. his teeth sink down into your skin as his hips ground forward, desperately attempting to fuck his seed into you. his eyes roll and his fingers grasp at the soft hair lining the nape of your neck.

“simon?” you murmur softly feeling his thick, hot release fill you full. “lemme look at you, wanna see that pretty face.”

zamnnnn. dis sounded better in my head 🤦‍♀️✌️

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

Simon Riley was a man who was quiet in bed. Occasionally, you’d hear a soft groan, or a curse escape his lips as he buried himself further inside of you. But other than that he was relatively mute in the bedroom.

Tonight, you decided, would be different. You would do anything in your power to hear those sweet noises you just knew your husband could make.

He was above you, languidly and silently thrusting into you, save for a small grunt here or there. He was very much a man that liked to be in charge, liked to control the pace.

So to say he was surprised when you flipped both of you over, was an understatement. You hovered yourself over him, your soaked core practically dripping onto his cock.

Simon looked up at you with a hint of a smile dancing on his lips. “Well, this is a treat. You wanting to take charge, baby?”

You bit your lip softly as you got yourself comfortable, your fingers finding purchase on Simon’s chest. “Wanna make you feel good, Si.”

When you rammed yourself back down onto his thick length, Simon let out euphoric moan causing your walls to clench down around him. He sounded fucking heavenly, and you needed more of it.

“Need to hear you, Si, please.” You begged, your eyes fluttering shut as you continued your steady pace. You always loved this position, you loved when Simon let you be in control. You loved to be the one fucking him.

Simon gave you a wicked smile, his hands giving your hips a firm squeeze as he helped guide your hips. “That right, sweet girl? Does me making some noise make that pretty little pussy clench around me?”

You bit back a moan at his filthy words as your walls clenched around him once more, your nails digging crescents into Simon’s muscular chest. “P-please.”

“Go on then, love. Be a good girl and make me.” Simon was an absolute tease in the bedroom, but you fucking loved it.

Your hands found Simon’s, moving them up slowly so that they now rested on your breasts, his large hands completely encompassing each of them. The way he squeezed at the supple flesh had your wet walls closing down around his length, practically holding it in a vice grip.

Simon truly wanted to tease you further, he loved riling you up to the point where you’d get that cute pout he’d loved so damn much- but the way you looked fucking yourself stupid on his cock, mixed with the way your pussy felt just so fucking good clenched around him, he lost all his willpower.

“Fuck, that’s my girl. Taking my cock so fucking well.” Simon groaned, his pretty scarred lips falling open, his brow furrowing slightly. A string of moans left his mouth as you dug your nails further into his chest, the movement of your hips growing frenzied as you chased your high. “So good for me.”

Simon no longer bit back his moans, no longer held in his soft cries of pleasure, he became a grunting, groaning mess beneath you. The pleasure for him was overwhelming, between the way you took charge, the way you clenched around him and the way you yourself sounded? He was fucking ruined.

And you fucking loved it.