АЛЕКСАНДРА

🇬🇧🇷🇺 cod men obsessed🎀

[aaalexxxandraaa]

hii everyone! suddenly im motivated to post on tumblr?? but anyway i just thought i’d tell everyone that i have a c.ai account and i make bots! the username is @pricesdolly i hope you enjoy the bots and please reblog!!

here is the link 🔗🩷💬

https://share.character.ai/70U7/i08evquq

much appreciated!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

[fuzzyautumninmetal]

Simon 'Ghost' Riley is a simple, plain man. Meaning he hates spending money on himself unless it's absolutely necessary, this man has thousands in the bank because he just doesn't spend it.

That's why Simon loves high maintenance women, specifically you. He loves that you get your hair done every month, loves that you get your nails done, eyelashes, facials, pedicures. God he absolutely loves providing for his woman.

The only problem is that you're not used to spending other people's money. You work, and you work hard for your money.

"Bye Si. I'll see you later," you shouted as you put your shoes on, just about to head out the door.

"Where you going love?"

That made you stop and slowly turn to face Simon. "I've got my nail appointment today." You said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, which it was. You had wrote it on the calendar.

"Hm and who's paying?"

"Um... Me?"

"Guess again," Simon was already in front of you, placing his bank card between your cleavage.

"Simon."

"Don't 'Simon' me," he mumbled as he kissed your forehead. "You know the rules. You look pretty and I pay for it." And you couldn't argue because Simon smacked your arse before pushing you out the door and locking it.

Oh, and don't bother trying to pay. Simon already took your credit card.

[silverlullabies]

when he’s got you folded in half, knees to your shoulders, and his tummy bulge is rubbing juuust right on your clit with every thrust

[emp0ria]

It sure is hot out…

[adelineriley999]

pranking simon gone wrong

it was one of those silly little pranks you'd like to pull on simon, nothing too dangerous...or so you thought.

the tiny belt of a shorts were in your hands, ready to cause havoc as you innocently placed it on the drying rack. that thing was barely 4 inches long and looked weirdly out of place. perfect.

you made your way to the couch, waiting for simon to come pick up the laundry.

"love, seen my grey shirt?", his voice came through the hallway.

"must be on the drying rack!", you responded, trying to tone down the excitement in your voice.

you mock busied yourself with a book, as he made his way towards the rack.

"huh", he mumbled, confusion lacing his voice. "and what exactly is this supposed to be ?", he asked with the shorts hanging from his fingers.

"they're my shorts", you bluntly responded, as if it wasn't already obvious.

"these are your shorts?", simon questioned, raising a brow.

you mocked annoyance, "uhm yeah?, i wore them last week remember, when i went out with my girlfriends?", you explained, eyes still on the book.

"you wore these out ? these?", he said looking almost horrified as he walked up to the couch, where you sat.

"well, what did you were underneath?"

"thongs, of course"

silence followed, as he stared at you as if you'd gone insane. you could tell he was starting to get pissed by the tension in his jaw.

"oh my god its just a prank..", you say giggling, unable to hold it in anymore as you got up. "you think i would actually wear these out?", you grin, snatching the shorts from his hands.

simon gave a long exasperated sigh.

"now where'd you think you're going ?", he whispered in your ear, grabbing your waist from behind. "you gotta pay up lovie".

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------

5 minutes later he had you bent over the kitchen island, in a pair of thongs and those damn shorts.

simon shoved the thongs side and slid two fingers in your soaking cunt. "honestly don't mind you wearing these at home", he retorted as your back arched.

"it was a p-prank si, d-didn't know- ahh", you blurted out as the sensation of him pumping his fingers in and out of you, took over. he continued his ministrations until you were practically begging for release, your back arching deeper.

"fuck", simon hissed as you came all over his fingers with a sharp cry, holding on the counter for support.

"that was so cruel.....do it again", was all you said panting, before simon landed a loud smack on your ass.

"bold of you to assume i was done", simon grunted as he took off his shirt.

best prank ever.

p.s. not proofread

[maladaptivewritings]

John Price has a thing for intox. He can't help it, honestly. He loves trying to get you to smoke with him and to drink with him as such.

He'd tease ya as your face got hot, from the liquor and the way his hands just trace you.

By no means is he walking away bored,

Round 2 or 3 hit the table before your cup is empty.

Another sly joke, his hands learning the hem of your skirt so well now.

Vision blurred as he ventured up and down your thighs.

Oh, oh, how he could be so coy...

[softspectre141]

Painfully shy reader getting absolutely obliterated drunk at the pub, losing all sense of timidity, and telling Gaz and Soap "I bet the reason Ghost actually hides his face is 'cause he knows everybody'd wanna sit on it".

Ghost overhearing, leaning over your shoulder, and letting you know "I'm just keeping your seat clean until you're ready to sit on it, love".

Obviously Simon fucks the embarrassment out of you the next day, but only after making sure you get your reserved seat nice and wet.

[moonlightdollx]

ᴊᴇᴀʟᴏᴜꜱ!ɢʜᴏꜱᴛ ɴꜱꜰᴡ

𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝖻𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖺𝖼𝗋𝗈𝗌𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗋, 𝖺 𝗀𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗌 𝗈𝖿 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗌𝗄𝖾𝗒 𝖼𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖼𝗁𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍𝗅𝗒 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 𝖻𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍, 𝗀𝗋𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗅𝗒 𝗍𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖼𝖺𝗉𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝖿 141 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝖺𝖽 𝗌𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗆

𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗁𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗅𝗒 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗋𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝖺𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗌, 𝗌𝗆𝗂𝗋𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗍 𝗀𝗁𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝖺𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗉𝗎𝗋𝗉𝗈𝗌𝖾𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗌 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗍 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗆𝖾𝗇

𝗂𝖿 𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝖾 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍’𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝗆 𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖿𝗎𝗇?

𝗁𝗈𝗐𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗍 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝗎𝗋𝗉𝗋𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖻𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗈𝗆 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗄 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗅𝖾 𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗌 𝗋𝖾𝗅𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗅𝖾𝗌𝗌𝗅𝗒 𝗂𝗇𝗌𝗂𝖽𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝖽𝗈 𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗓𝗒 𝗆𝗂𝗋𝗋𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝖺𝗌𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖺 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝖽𝗀𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖻𝖾𝗀𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌

[templeofsoot]

simon is a horrible partner to sleep with in this weather. he wears only his briefs and gets clammy five minutes after falling asleep. you have to scoop to the very side of the bed because he's just too big and likes to dig his shoulder into the split between the mattresses (he's too cheap to buy a matrimonial) and you can feel the heat billowing off him even when inches apart.

he's always warm, maladapted to the mugginess, and you're not that different.

you touch each other less and less, nerves overstimulated by the temperature. he keeps muscling his way into the shower because its the only place you'll let him fuck you.

you wake up in the middle of the night with sweat in the divot of your spine and stare up at the ceiling in irritation. he doesn't care because he keeps sleeping.

rationally, it's not exactly his fault. he's just made of fat and brawn which heat up quick, and you like it in the winter, that the little space of the bed forces you two to squeeze together. its nice and you miss it.

your body is still somewhat asleep and not opposed to the idea of some touching.

you decide to test out that instinct by sliding a leg over his pale thigh, shuffling closer over the humid sheets. the regret is immediate, starting your retreat the moment your ankle itches with the warmth of his skin.

simon tries to fish for you with his eyes closed, and you swat his hand away before it can make contact. "no," you bleat, already back to irritated.

he grunts his disappointment while digging his face into the pillow. you can't stand the bed anymore.

its around three and you paddle down the hallway into the kitchen. the portable AC hooked into the glass door tempts you with the beeping of its spy light, but your feet drag past it — all the windows are open, wishing to catch some stray night breeze, and it'd be a bore to shut them close.

you think about pulling a knife from the drawer and hacking at yourself from the nape down. you want your skin off. instead, you open the fridge door for some water.

the cold air is so inviting that you forget about it and stand still in front of the appliance. it brushes against your exposed midriff and under the fine fuzz on your thighs. somewhere in the back of your skull your brain protests something about electricity bills and food preservation, but you really don't want to move.

"oi." simon pads behind you, and you realise you've been standing in place longer than planned. "yer lettin' the cold out."

"go back to bed."

"s'you can hog the fridge? move over."

you feel him on your spine and keep your elbow from wanting to knock him in the jaw. "go away."

he burrs that rumble that stands in for a chuckle and puts an arm over the top of the freezer, bumping his bicep into your crown. his belly is sticky when it slots into your back, perspiration blooming there immediately, so you slouch further towards the fridge.

"fuck off. this is my space."

"th'is my space," he singsongs, and he tugs the hem of your shorts over your ass, not even bothering with the front until the cheeks are out. he knows you don't wear anything under because his thumb pads at your labia to nudge it apart.

something makes you wince, his touch or the cold air or the heat. your body prims in interest, legs widening when he rubs the tent of his crotch up and down between your cleft.

"s'too hot," you try, but his shoulders are already pressing you down into more of a bend and sliding the fabric away from your pussy until it bunches at the top of your knees. he sticks his tacky fingers over your tacky clit and gives you a couple of good rubs.

"no, its not."

he decides for both of you. you feel light-headed and don't say otherwise.

he gives up too soon the effort of coaxing you away from sleepiness in favour of spitting into his palm and smearing the thick glob over your slit, wedging between your bodies. you want to scold him because saliva is terrible for your pH and he lets you open your mouth before he pushes two fingers inside, three knuckles in until you yelp.

when he fucks you, you have to press your cheek against the freezer door to not fall forward. it's too lazy to be any true shade of good, too pleasant to be any way of bad. he pins you there with his mouth on the bone and coos that your cunt's like a bloody fever, that you're such a wet girl, it's embarrassing. you're both aware most of the moisture between you is sweat.

simon bends his neck to lap at it on the start of your spine and you shiver when he tugs down your top so he can circle a nipple until it hardens in the cold air. you think that if it weren't for the fridge you'd pass out.

his thrusts are pushes, pressing against the fullness of your ass, made less to savour the back-and-forth and more because he likes how you pulse around his cock when they force you on your tiptoes.

he doesn't pace himself, and when you feel him throb, you almost stomp over his bare foot. "make me cum," you remind him, agitated, "simon, don't you dare- ah!"

you feel him grin with all his teeth, but he strums his fingers against your clit nonetheless. "shut up," he sighs, almost annoyed, nose fitted on your occipital. his hips smack against the back of yours when the motion of his pads has you tightening. "alrigh'. yeah, you cum too... tha's it..."

his spent slides down your legs into the gusset of your shorts, and you knock your knees together to keep it off the parquet.

"darlin'," he sniffs, like it's your fault, "look at you. yer all sweaty."

you hate him a little when he hounds you into the shower. you hate him a little less with cold water washing over you.

this time in bed, you're both naked, cool enough that you risk plastering under the wing of his lateral muscles. it still takes him only five minutes to get clammy, holding you prisoner under his arm.

[softaestluv]

And you really thought Simon would be a little mean during sex. He had to be a sadist after everything he’s been through.

So, when he’s between your parted thighs, you’re shocked when he speaks to you so softly. Quietly begging in your ear, cock pressed to the hilt, for you to be good for him.

And everytime you let out a whine, fingers tightening at his shoulders because he’s massive and you feel like you’re splitting in two with every thrust; he shushes you. ‘You can take it. Yes—yes you can.’

And when you clench tighter around him because the cadence of his voice licks warmth in your core, he smiles. ‘There you go, baby. Just like that.’

[cherricherrypie]

Fucking hell I need a man like John Price

[tojisun]

you think that you are sooo good at hiding the fact that you like missionary and prone bone because of the way that john is pressing against you—crushing you with his weight, and rutting the two of you on the bed in a messy tangle of salt and warmth —until john finally croons at you about it. he praises you, says how you are so cute in the way that your body is anticipating the drop of john's weight—cunt clenching around him even tighter, your moans splintering into shattered rasps of john's name.

the denial comes quick. "no- john, i-"

john tells you that you don't have to deny it. that you don't have to lie.

"i love it," john murmurs, a satisfied preen coating his words. he nuzzles his scruff against your shoulder, nipping at his baby's flushed skin because vulnerability is closing in. "i love how you love my body, baby."

you cry, cumming weakly at john's confession and throughout the tremors overtaking you, john holds you tight. he humps into you shallowly, trying to coax one more orgasm, and you do give a weak squirt just as his cum fills you, and it is thick and hot and delicious.

he slides his hand down to cup your gut, fingers dimpling your skin. "there," he rumbles. "now you're full too."

[welshj03]

+No cracks version

Simon art before I lock in with comms and artfight 😭 I will answer asks soon as I am free!

[dwidkwite]

smut, afab!reader, cuck!price and cocky!simon.

price could be an asshole sometimes, he knew it. and you knew it too. he always made you cry during arguments, storming out of your shared place by slamming the door and only coming home the next morning with an apology and some flowers.

you always forgave him, much to his surprise.

but today was different, he had been really mean and price knew that he messed up badly this time. he hated how he could be when angry.

"i forgive you" price eyes looked up to you, a hint of hope in it.

"are ya serious ?" he asked with his rough voice, his heart beating a little faster. he released the breath he didn't even realize he was holding when you nodded yes. you opened your mouth, "one condition" you looked at the floor, "I want to spend one night with lieutnant riley." price cringed at the way you said his name, bliking at you with big incredulous eyes.

"she really said tha' ?" price hated simon's smug smirk, the man visibly flattered by his captain's woman's wish. "who am I to disappoint the missus"

price hated even more watching you and simon have sex, even though he insisted on being here.

your body was smashed against the mattress, the bed hitting the wall as the lieutnant's hips roughly pounded into you. you were enjoying it, john knew by the loud moans that were uncontrollably leaving your mouth. he saw how you tried to hide it at first, probably in order to not make your husband insecure ; however as simon fucked you dumb, you became a moaning and drooling mess.

price clenched his jaw as he watched you both make out, he couldn't help but observe intently how simon's angry cock would thrust in and out of your pink pussy, all slick with the previous orgasms you had.

"gonna cum..." you whimpered pathetically as you shut your eyes, your nails piercing the lieutnant's back. a whimper escaped you as you felt simon's hand come rub your clit to help you climax, the delicious feeling making your toes curl.

after you came, price watched you lay on your shared bed, completely cock drunk. he completely ignored the cocky expression simon had on his face.

"next time don't be a dickhead, captain" price mentally cursed as the lieutnant walked out of the room, enjoying the situation too much for his liking.

[konigswaifu]

Evenings with Simon were.. complicated. To say the least.

Anxiety pulsing through him as he prepared himself to fight invisible demons that plagued his dreams.

Though.. those nights came fewer and far between since he's met you.

A soothing hand at his back after you'd filled his belly, snuggling close to check some awful B-rate flick on the telly.

"Proper shite, mm?" A grumble of a protest, though still laced with amusement. Didn't matter to you what was on, honestly. Reality shows, some game he threw on. Mattered not.

You give his tum a gentle pat and sigh contentedly and he returns the sigh with a grunt of his own. "Right then. 'Spose you could make that again, yeah?" A right fan of your cooking.

A night in, stomachs full of homemade goodness and a warm body to nuzzle into. Hauntings of any kind stood no chance here, not in your arms, and certainly not in his.

Didn't take long before he relaxed enough to even fall asleep like that, tangled on the couch, empty mug on the side table and you in his arms.

"Could get used t'this..."

He could. And he did.

[rawme-price]

Inspired by [this] post by @bluecarolina

Ghost is hardly a jealous man, he doesn't really care about things enough to be jealous.

Well, except for you.

You, and the bloke who's practically been attached at your arm for the past two weeks. You two talk like old friends, like you've known eachother for years. Ghost knows from eavesdropping that "me and him were always close, you know? Kind of impossible not to miss eachother after I had to move."

The thought of it makes ghost seethe. It's a startling feeling considering he's never felt so territorial over someone before. All ghost wants is a moment alone with you, just to talk, and everywhere he turns your boyfriend is there.

Well. He assumes boyfriend, with the lack of a ring. But it's impossible to know when ghost avoids him and by proxy you. The worst part? Ghost didn't realize he liked you until that dickhead came around.

"Oh, ghost! I've been meaning to catch you!" You smile when ghost finally breaks during lunch, boyfriend sat across from you at the table.

You gesture to him, missing the way ghosts hand pulls his balaclava just above his nose, "this is my—"

Ghost kisses you, both hands holding yout jae steady.

The whole mess hall goes dead silent, not that he'd care. He leans in further, having to bow down at the awkward position, licking into your mouth with a wet tongue. You can't help but melt into it a bit, ignoring the gasp from next to you.

When you finally pull away, ghost is blushing beneath the mask, your own face heated.

"This," you say, all smug and pleased as you point to the man ghost has genuinely considered killing, "...is my brother. He's visiting for the month.

....oh.

....ghost grabs your arm and drags you away. He can deal with an angry brother later, right now he's aching to kiss you more and he knows you are too.

[amaranthinespirit]

gymbro!simon riley being an awkward perv

he doesn't know you. yet. he just knows that you're new to the gym, based on the fact he's never seen you around. simon would've remembered a girl in tight biker shorts and skimpy sports bras, taut workout jackets, and the occasional oversized hoodie. adorned with a cute matching water bottle to whatever you wore that day and headphones.

he's never seen someone so polished for...the gym. a place meant for getting dirty and sweaty after a good workout, but he doesn't mind. not at all.

especially when you're doing leg and glute day. bending over for stretches, squatting with a full rack of weight—or whatever your body can carry. the grimace on your features with a heavy hip thrust. it rushes all his blood down south.

it's barely been a week since you'd joined this gym, and he's already enthralled—and a downright dog.

but he wasn't used to talking—just staring someone down until they noticed, which he did a lot. when he approached you, he didn't know what to say, and you felt the looming presence over your shoulder. well, there he was, staring you down.

lifting off your headphones, you spared him a sweet look, "you need something?" he just pointed to the machine you were using. "oh! i'm almost done, you—"

he threw you a thumbs up and turned away as quickly as possible, leaving you dumbfounded. instead of continuing the exercise he interrupted to approach you, he sat back on the machine and watched you finish your set. adjusting his heavy erection that wasn't hidden by his gym shorts. you felt his eyes but didn't dare look his way.

just as you finished and were about to clean off the seat, he appeared at your side and stopped you. simon was filthy, seeing the sweat marks left on the seat made his cock throb. "'s fine." he grunted, sitting his heavy body right down. your perfume still lingered when he did.

it wasn't even part of his strict workout routine. he was working legs that day, you were doing arms. he didn't care.

numerous other times stuck out. moments you caught him turning his head over his shoulder to stare at your ass when he walked by, picking machines right behind where you squatted, hijacking your machines after a heavy workout, or picking a treadmill right beside yours when all the others were empty.

until he finally worked up the courage to ask to spot you. he knew you didn't need it, but god, it was the only way to get close to you, to touch you.

he was surprised you even agreed, but you saw what he did. perving on you any time you went to the gym at the same time—which was often because he learned your gym schedule.

he was helped you squat, hands unnecessarily on your hips, chest way too close to your back. every so often, a certain squat slotted his hard cock against your ass, and he didn't hide the grunt. adjusted himself shamelessly while he did so.

it's not like you reprimanded him, but you also didn't feed into it—though, by default, not saying no to him was a greenlight in his eyes.

just ignore the way his breathing picks up and a choked groan escapes him. he definitely didn't just finish in his shorts.