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fic-heaven · 26 days

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Ghost x witty! Reader x Price

Jealous much?

You spent too much time with Price.

Of course it was on purpose, if anyone asked you'd agree, after all, you are no liar. But who could blame you? It was so much fun to piss Ghost off this way.

Since the day you first paired up together in your first solo mission you were like finger and nail, deadly separate but even deadlier together. Your partnership bloomed into a friendship so rare even the captain couldn't believe it at first... The big bad Ghost willingly attached to a sassy clown like you? Wasn't Johnny the closest thing to a friend Ghost had? Obviously no, because the way he'd joke, train, protect and tell you everything that reached his ears spoke volumes of his deep attachment to you.

You knew this, of course. And although you felt just as close to him that didn't stop you from forming other friendships of your own and Simon was indifferent of this until he wasn't.

He'd wait wait for you on your room's door, respectful of your space and privacy but you never open, so him being worried decided to let himself in only to see you were already gone, to later be informed by Soap that you are having breakfast with John Price.

That happend THREE times in a week.

Ghost would wait for you on the stairs closest to the gym eager to spar with you and enjoy the funny remarks you did about anyone who crossed you or just pretty much hear whatever the hell you wanted to say without him having to saying much in return. Because that's your routine, so where the fuck are you? He sees you carrying a stack of papers laughing with the captain only giving Ghost an apologetic face before returning to your riddles. That happend TWICE.

See, Ghost is a patient man specially with you being a walking headache, but this? You knew he wouldn't hold it any longer. And you were eager to see how he'd explode.

His last straw was during a mission where you had to rescue a number of hostages. You two behaved with the same professionalism as always with a non so professional comment here and there, all normal, until you met with the captain and Ghost felt you instantly untangle yourself from his presence. Like Price's dry comments and even dryer humour was more interesting than Ghost's.

You were well aware the lieutenant wouldn't say a word about his obvious discomfort because what reason would he have? You were just attentive to your captain instead of your lieutenant, woops. Also considering the way Ghost is, he would never admit he has a crush on you unless he's provoked too far. So you'll use Price to give him a little push on the right direction.

Out of pure entertainment obviously, not because you loved that bastard too much to confess yourself. Yeah...

Simon didn't have a good enough reason to be pissed so that any person would understand without thinking he's jealous until you gave him one: At your captain's command, you two launched an ambush to the enemies corralling them dangerously close to the hostages, once they were eliminated, you three made a quick work of gathering the hostages out of the boat they were previously captured to wait for the rescuing helos to land while keeping them as far as possible from the bomb the enemies had planted. The moment you rushed inside the boat, Price had to tackle Ghost to the ground so he wouldn't run after you, it didn't take long when you trotted back to them with a few files in hand and a couple of minutes later, the boat exploded. Price smiled proudly, praising you with enthusiasm. "I knew you could do it, hon. Well-fucking-done! This calls for a celebratory drink, don't ya think?"

Ghost didn't speak to you for the whole flight to the base, his eyes were glaring daggers at your form while you discussed the content of the files with Price, seemingly careless about Ghost's state. Of course you were worried about him when Price said the tall brit tried to go after you, you asked if he was alright but the brief "m'fine." he gave you seemed to be enough answer for you to turn around and chat with the captain.

During morning drills, Ghost sat on a chunk of grass near the fences. His imposing presence did wonders making the soldiers around focus on their training, chores and other tasks, Price deeply thanked him for it because apparently he was busy with other matters of his own, surely with you. He sniffed trying to focus on finishing painting the mask he was holding and totally not thinking about you and Price alone somewhere far from him.

How dare the captain confide in you to gather important Intel he could had easily ordered Ghost to pick quicker than your short legs could carry you?

How dare Price spend more time with a stupidly annoying Sargeant instead of his loyal lieutenant?

How dare you enjoy Prices' presence more than Simon's? Was it because he was more handsome? Because he spoke much more than him? He surely didn't tease you the same way Simon did... Right?

He saw a flash of light from the corner of his eye, raising his gaze up without moving his head an inch he saw your dog tags dangling on your chest reflecting the light of the torching sun almost blinding his him.

The moment you spot your lieutenant you giggled and it irked something ugly in him. Were you mocking him?

You shot Ghost a challenging look he was soon returning with a tilt of his head as to say "oh really? I'll show you." He dropped the mask he was holding to the grass, abruptly standing so fast some passerby yelped in horror, Simon rapidly approaches you from the other side of the training field aggressively bumping into other operators who didn't see him but turned white at the sight of the angry lieutenant glaring ahead, a few rookies looked at the scene about to unfold in fright, some ran to find the captain thinking this would end up bloody.

-"What's got your face like a teapot funeral, lieutenant?"

-"Who do you think you are hiding crucial information of the mission from your superior!?"

-"We were reading the files on the ride here. You chose not to read them, Sim-"

-"Don't fucking call me that! I'm your lieutenant! Got it!? If someone farts I hear it first, if Price has something on his mind I'll be the first he informs, if Intel must be gathered I'd have to know."

You listened with humour all over the face, he was getting so frustrated he looked like an angry two-meter tall pitbull. "My my, if I didn't know any better I'd say you're jealous."

-"I will rip you apart. Hang your corpse on a pole for everyone to see..."

-"That a promise? I'd make a beautiful flag~"

Ghost was on your face huffing like an angry bull, his shoulders heaving with the force of his huffs. He was frustrated as hell with your enchanting wit that did nothing but enamour him further and the fact that he could literally intimidate anyone but you. It was driving him crazy.

You sighed "Are you really THAT mad, dear? I mean come on. You know you are the Captain's favorite but I deserve some of his time too."

He opened his mouth, his skull mask looming over you so close he did you the favor of shielding your face from the sun until "HEY!"

Price stepped between you, but you rose your hand to stop him with a serene look. "No need to baby us, cap. We were just having a peep talk."

Ghost took your arm dragging you away to a quieter place after you calmed your captain but John wasn't so convinced sprinting to you and stopping Simon by gripping your other arm. In that moment they looked like two kids fighting for a toy. You couldn't help but laugh out loud your head falling back not breaking the increasing tension among them.

-"Lieutenant Riley, you are out of line-"

-"I'm out of line? YOU are out of line! Fraternizing with this sargeant, giving her additional support and exposing sensitive information to her like she's ranks above her current one!"

-"Watch your accusations, you won't like the repercussions, besides you are no saint either threatening the life of this Sargeant in front of the others. This is unacceptable behavior from a lieutenant!"

-"OH wanna talk about unacceptable behaviour!? I've kept quiet for far too long. You wanna fuck this woman so bad you risk your position as our captain, it's pathetic... I never expected something like this from you Johnathan."

Your half lidded eyes shot to Price waiting for an answer, the wide smile you held slightly turned downwards at your captains silence. He looked stoic but there was a slight hint of nervousness that manifested in the way he pursed his lips and glared at his lieutenant.

"For real?" You asked. Ghost tsked, Price's hand never wavered from his position gripping your left arm, Ghost didn't either.

"Wanna know something funnier?" You asked, and finally they both broke the eye contact to look at you. "You two wanna fuck me so bad it's getting too obvious. So I suggest something: Do whatever you planned for today, come to my room at night TOGETHER and make up by doing whatever you planned to do to me."

Ghost's eyes widened and Price looked down trying to come up with a replay clearly as stunned as Simon.

"Think of it as a... Hmmm... A bonding exercise! Also a way to make peace. We will all benefit from it, and afterwards we won't have to talk about it if you don't want to." The way you spoke, so sure of yourself made the two men rethink whatever the hell they wanted to spit.

Ghost finally spoke lowly "And if we want to talk about it...?"

Your smile widen, your hands softly took the arms that gripped them making them both shiver as if they had been electrocuted for a moment.

"Then I'm sure we can come up with a deal." You looked back at Price who still had his blue eyes firmly planted on the ground. "Captain?"

"I have a meeting with Laswell at nine o'clock." Price finally rose his gaze to your face, his cheeks were dusted pink in embarrassment accentuating the beautiful constellation of freckles on his face "I'll cancel and skip dinner."

Ghost nods at his captain's decision, you look at the masked brit waiting for his own response "I had to be with Johnny and Kyle somewhere t'night. They'll be well off without me."

"Fantastic! My room at nine, then." You chirped until Price stopped you.

"No-" He abruptly interrupted. Ghost and you looked at him in surprise, nervousness lazed on Price's voice after he shook his head and recomposed himself "My office. We'll go there, that way people will think we'll be addressing the matter of Ghost's public outburst."

Ghost growled out "Public outburst?" But you nodded enthusiastic "Perfect plan! Also it wouldn't be far from the truth at all, am I right fellas?"

By that point the two men had let go of your arms but kept a closer distance to you, their previous angry expressions had softened seeking your eyes with desire, the voids of their pupils were so dilated you could see your smirk reflected on them.

"This will be quite the experience."

Who should I write next ;) ? Requests open!

#simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #cod #john price #john price x reader #price x reader #ghost x reader x price #price x reader x ghost #witty reader

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morticiahumbertunderwood · 8 months

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Leech

MDNI - 18+ - smut - fluff - blood - violence - trauma - ptsd

"…" - talk '…' - thoughts cursive - flashbacks

1. Fight or flight

It was a cold winter morning in London. You woke up with the usual headache in a messy room, blinds letting in the blueish early light without a care of your state. The radio was tuning in just in time with the newest catastrophies of this world. "Two people killed, five injured in another terrorist attack by the infamous Al-Qatala. We can confirm that one of the victims…" You sigh and rub your eyes. 'Another one…great. Khaled won't stop any sooner I guess. Hopefully they leave me out of it this time.'

A man with a skull mask is getting into a black van. Ghost. Inside are soldiers staring at him, not saying a word. The air is so thick, you can cut through it with a broken blade. Nobody dares to say a thing as the big man sits down and slams the back door shut. The man on the passenger seat turns around and gives a short motivational speech as the engine starts. "Right chaps, let's get this straight, it's too early for anyone to disturb us. But…as some fellows need to work as early as we do, try to keep them alive and quiet. He or she is probably asleep and we have an easy target. Not on the silver plate but a pretty lil' bird we can catch without causing havoc, right?" Everyone nods and looks around. "Are you all deaf, answer your captain when he asks!?", Ghost barks out. The voice so raspy and deep, the hair on everyone's neck standing up by now. "Sir, yes sir!", the soldiers shout. Clashing their weapons against their heavy armed chest rigs and vests. The captain now looking through the faces and landing his eyes on the skull. "Keep an eye on my boys out there Lieutenant. 's the first big thing for them and I don't want to lose all of them right away, clear?" "Copy that, sir!" The captain just nods with a mischievous grin and his thumb and pointing finger slightly lifting his boonie as if it was a cylinder. Captain Price. Ghost nodding shortly with glistening eyes, black eye paint smeared around them, his eyelashes almost white from the faint light on the car's roof.

You start to stand up walking towards the old coffee machine and turning it on. The cup under reads SEE YA LATER FOLKS with a cute old drawing of a little girl waving goodbye and walking into an airport. Just like the drawings in your old orphange books. And it depicts perfectly what you can do best. Leave. You always were quick to get away when the situation got sticky. Same went with working for Khaled. You were there for the job but as quick as you were in installing your explosive artwork, the same went for leaving the scene before the big blow. Your whole life you ran away from any big thing. It was easier. Cleaner. Quiet. At least in your mind. The other children in the orphanage gave you a nickname and it suited your whole life. Leech. You only took what you needed, sucked out the next big fat thing without any regards and without causing a big scene. The pain came crouching and slow and without big recognition. As soon as they saw you…you were gone. That way you always had enough food, enough money, enough safety. You listened to the song in the radio, an old classic and shook your head. The coffee warmed your insides and you sighed into the mug. Any minute the only other person awake at this unholy hour would close his apartment door and start walking to the staircase with a rather quiet whistle on the lips while the old flooring is creaking under his big boots. The big bellied neighbour who went for work. The only constant in your life giving you a perimeter for safety. You waited in your usual position against the counter and listened to the door next to yours closing. 'There he goes, old man.' The whistling started, you smiled slightly into your mug. He walked by your door. The floor creaked in a familiar tone. 'Now the stairs.', you thought to yourself. The steps grew further away and suddenly the whistling stopped. Why did it stop? The floor was also not creaking as it should anymore. 'Wait a minute. What…' BOOM You turned around and as you saw your door being kicked in like cardboard and out of its hinges, your coffee mug fell down and shattered into pieces, hot coffee hitting your bare feet and legs. "Shit!" You started to think, but your brain was not fast enough. Not awake enough. Fight or flight? Fight? Or flight? 'Shit!?'

The two vans made halt in front of an old apartment building. The cold wind roaring through the narrow street. Each of the 6 soldiers got off their respective car and ready as quiet as possible. The drivers remained in their seats in case of a quick retreat or failure. The captain checked his boonie, tucked one hand into the upper part of his vest and lit the prepared cigar in his mouth with the other. The spark illuminated his face as he inhaled deeply. Removing the cigar into said hand, he corrected his posture: "Right gentlemen, I expect a clean retreat. No unnecessary casualties, no unwanted noises, no longer than it needs to be. Understood?" A hushed "Aye, sir." was heard from all getting ready, checking their weapons routinely as a mohawked man made his way to the skull masked one with a big smile on his face patting his shoulder: "Oi L.T., good to be back in action." Soap. Ghost glanced over: "As long as you won't let yourself get shredded into pieces again, I won't complain, Johnny." Soap pouted and the nearest soldiers huffed a small laugh in their direction. "It's not my fault Al-Qatala had a fookin wizard in their ranks, aye? I mean even ar dogs were unable to find out where the C4 was hidd'n, m'I rite captain?" Price nodded, pointing to the top of the building: "That's why we are here, Johnny. Let's get this guy asap and stop another maniac in his dirty tracks. Everyone ready in 5."

Ghost looked up and breathed deeply for one last time. "Let's do this, Soap behind me with Bravo-19!" The mohawk and Bravo followed, the rest forming routinely around the captain and behind the two groups. The building was old without an elevator which made Soap huff out tiredly. "Ghost, please tell me we have a bloody elevator hidden in the wall next to us." "Negative." Ghost inspected the staircase and started to get up the stairs. The formation following, pointing their weapons in perfectly coordinated directions. The whole building slept. It was only 4 in the morning so the top floor was quickly reached. Soaps breathing being faster than usual made Ghost look over his shoulder. Soap flinched slightly and found composure. His leg burned. Still bandaged from the injury committed by the "mastermind of explosions", the "artist", the "leech". What a name. He had to find out what the name had to do with his profession after the mission. Ghost shook Soap out of his thoughts with loading his gun as around the corner a door was being opened and closed carefully in the hallway. 'Shit', Soap thought and saw the fist of his lieutenant up in the air. The signal being known all too well, he hoped it was someone lucky this time. The floor started creaking slightly under the person's weight and a quiet whistle sound could be heard. Before the man could go around the corner, the lieutenant grabbed him and shut his mouth with one gloved hand. The man's eyes were wide open now, hands in the air. Soap holding the weapon to his head, one finger on his lips. The man nodded and was passed to the back to another soldier escorting him out. Now they had no time to lose. Ghost held two fingers up, waving into the direction and giving wordless instruction. 'The first door in the top hallway. Just like the briefing said.', Soap thought to himself. And it took over the whole team. Even the newest soldiers acted in pure muscle memory. The door was kicked open and the men stormed the apartment with such precision, the target would have no time to even think about running or getting a weapon. Ghost took the left corner with Soap close behind as backup. Price went to the right into a small bathroom with another masked soldier. "All clear in here!", he shouted with a raspy timber. Two other soldier stormed forward to the couch seconds after the first four: "Clear!" Weapons searching the room precisely. Ghost looked into a small open kitchen, dishes in the sink, the smell of coffee. A broken mug on the ground, the spilled coffee still hot. He started opening the bottom cabinets with Soap holding his weapon directly next to his right ear. In the last cabinet under the sink he suddenly heard something rumble faintly. Soap hissed his breath in and corrected his posture. The cabined flew open and his eyes widened. Ghost stood still and was not moving, his weapon on the…woman?

"Please! Whatever you want take it, I am unarmed!?" Your voice came out more as a shriek then a shout. Your hands up in the air peeking out of the cabinet under your sink. The skull masked giant stared at you with a fire in his eyes you rarely saw in soldiers. Your flight instinct betrayed you into simply hiding in plain sight. Like in a bad horror movie without a way out. The mohawked man behind the skull held a big gun over the skulls shoulder also pointing at you. His gaze was sort of softer and you got the courage to shout. To play the victim. A role you also perfectioned over the years. The mohawk pushed the skull to the side and reached out a hand to you, the other still pointing a gun at you. His gaze softened a bit more and he smiled slightly: "Come on lassie, we are here for the bad guys. You are safe." The skull shrugged irritatedly and still fixed his gaze on you. The mohawk looked to his right: "All clear captain, only a female civilian hiding!" You took his hand and tried to sneak past him as a big hand grabbed your shirt and pulled you into his body. The captain ran into your direction pointing his gun at you. The skull reached around you and the mohawk stood in shock looking between the skull and his captain. "Bloody hell, what are you up to birdie?" You looked into the eyes of captain John Price. 'Birdie…' How on earth did he found you? 'Shit, Karim will kill me if they don't do it first!', you remembered what happened in Al Mazrah 6 months ago. The big boom was perfect and nobody should have come out alive. Apparently some did. "I…I can explain…", you stammered. The grip behind you got only stronger. You turned your head around. "Calm down you fuckin' beast, I am all yours in a second. Let me talk to John first!" The skulls eyes widened and he looked up to Price, who shook his head. "You want to talk?" The soldiers gathered behind him. Some left talking into their coms. 'The routine…it's all the same bullshit. No matter which side you are on.'

"Give me one good reason not to knock you unconscious to have a nice and quiet ride back with you, sweetheart." John's eyes flickered and he looked at you rather disappointed. Your gaze flew to the ground and your hands gripped the big arm holding you in place. "I…have intel?", you tried. He chuckled and shook his head. "Okay! Okay…I am not responsible for the last one. I swear! Khaled has another guy. Some russian idiot without discipline. No muse. No artistic feel to it. I…I retired 5 months ago after Al Mazrah, John!" Soap bored his eyes into you: "Wait what? She is the fookin' leech?" He looked up to Ghost and he nodded shortly. "Hol' up, Ghost? Yar knew about the whole ordeal?" He huffed out a shocked breath. Price put up a hand: "Soap, let me explain later, we…" "SHE ALMOST RIPPED ME IN PIECES BACK THERE ME CAPTAIN!?" He was slightly more furious than appropriate for the situation. Ghosts grip got a bit softer and you breathed in a big breath of air before he corrected the tightness. "Okay big boy, you are squeezing me to death and I would love to put on some pants and a bra maybe before heading to Kate. John, am I allowed? I won't run, I know when I am defeated." John nodded to Ghost. Soap still in shock looking between the two of you as in a tennis match. Ghost loosened his grip and a click followed by the cold metal on your wrist let you freeze in your actions. "Oh come on…", gazing at Price you put your head to the side pouting. "Birdie, it's to our all safety. Ghost will follow you and you can get dressed. He will look away, don't worry." Price made way and there were only you four, all other soldiers left or leaving and waiting in the hallway. You started to walk to your couch grabbing the bra, your black jeans, boots and an old oversized hoodie. Ghost followed you with his left hand in the other handcuff. You blushed at him standing right in front of you as you turned around: "Listen mister…Ghost…I dare you to look and your skull is the last thing I'll see before my rage." He chuckled and made way for you to lead into the bathroom. Price watched after you and Ghost and Soap started to argue as soon as you two disappeared in the bathroom.

Part 1 is done. Well 2 and 3 as well but I have to reread and correct some stuff. Lmk what you all think and see you soon!

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bigguyenthusiast · 2 months

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COD P★ LINKS

Yawll……dis is horny… so like fair warning

John price

Price tying you up after he catches you disobeying him by touching yourself :(

Overstimulation with John <3

Price eating you out after a loooooong mission

More price eating pussy (the guy LITERALLY looks like him or am I tripping)

Since you like using them so much, this shouldn’t be a punishment for you, correct ?

John getting you to ride his thigh

Theres a reason why they’re his favourite

Kyle Garrick

Gaz after ruthlessly fucking you for three hours ;3

What you get for flaunting yourself in front of his mates :(

Lazy night in with gaz

Shhh don’t want anyone to hear you

Late night humping with your clingy boyfriend

Roommate! Gaz getting tired of your horny whining

Simon Riley

Just a quick reminder of where you belong

Quick polishing’

A goodbye gift

A welcome home gift

Roommate! Ghost pounding you till you wake up :(

Owner! Ghost with his lil pup

Little film for later

Gettin’ crafty

John McTavish

Riding him until he’s dumb <3

Mornin sex with Johnny boy

Self restrain

Virgin! Johnny

Just his doll

Convincing your friend, Johnny to join your live 🫣

König

Hes just too big you needed a photo for confirmation

Need your colonel to reach you a lesson?

Just a quickie before he leaves for work

Quickie part 2

Good girls beg

#okay yall lemme go to bed #call of duty #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #cod x reader #ghost x reader #captain price #ghost #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #konig x reader #konig #konig cod #captain john price #john price x reader #john price

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metallictastinglifesupportliquid · 3 months

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Y/N: Hi I'm your medic and I'll be drawing your blood today, as soon as I finish this capri sun Y/N: *misses the hole four times then finally punches the straw through the side* Ghost, sweating: PRICE

#incorrect cod quotes #incorrect quotes #cod incorrect quotes #incorrect call of duty quotes #cod x reader #cod x you #cod x y/n #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x y/n #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost #ghost cod #captain price #john price #captain john price #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty

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whateveriwant · 5 months

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Task force 141 reacting to their very pregnant wife still trying to clean, cook etc

This turned more into ‘Task force 141 preventing their very pregnant wife from trying to clean, cook, etc’ lmaooooo I hope that's alright

Price

HA! Good one!

No seriously, it's actually hilarious that you think you'd do anything for yourself when your hubby's around

That man has been waiting on you hand and foot since you first got together. So now that you're pregnant and you think he'd let you so much as lift a finger? You must have a serious case of pregnancy brain, sweetheart

Price is doing all the cooking, the cleaning, the running errands, etc. throughout the entirety of your pregnancy (and at least the first several months postpartum)

He's kept you practically bed bound these last few months to the point where you think there's a perfect indent of your body molded into the mattress

Seven months in, he's suddenly called away to a quick mission halfway across the globe, and you think finally you'll get some of your autonomy back...

Well, think again because who should show up at your door the next morning than your mother-in-law herself, ready to pick up where her son left off

She came at the behest of your husband, of course, and was armed with a detailed set of care instructions

What does your husband think you are? Some sort of one-of-a-kind, priceless artifact that needs special handling? (Actually that's exactly what you are. Price-less… I'll see myself out 🚶🏻‍♀️)

Ghost

When it comes to having some semblance of independence during your pregnancy, Ghost will give you a bit of a longer leash than Price, but only just so

You’re going for a walk around the neighborhood? Hold on, let him grab his coat to join you. Or you're going into the backyard to tend the garden? He'll pull the weeds while you water the plants

But when it comes to letting you do certain things, there are some hard nos that he will absolutely not budge on

You try to use a stepladder to reach the top of the cupboard? Stop! You'll break your neck! You try to pick up anything heavier than 10 pounds? Stop! Give it here! You try to drive?... Don't even fuckin' think about it, precious.

The farther along your pregnancy progresses, the better he gets at predicting (and intercepting) your next move

You were gonna do laundry today? Well, wouldn't you know, he's already got a load going in the washer. You were about to make dinner? Well shucks, he just ordered takeaway from that Greek place you love

His ability to read your mind is honestly impressive once you get past how damn annoying you find it. Just because you're pregnant doesn't mean you're incapable of fending for yourself, and you're tired of him acting as if otherwise

But really, you can never get mad at anything he does for you. After all, what kind of a husband would he be if he didn't take care of his missus and your little one?

Soap

If you take Ghost’s cautiousness, mix it with Price’s thoroughness, and crank it up to an 11, you get Soap

From the moment he found out you were pregnant, he put your house into full lockdown mode, stopping just short of booby trapping the front door in case you got any funny ideas

You want some fresh air? Just open a window. You want to go for a walk and stretch your legs? Just take a few turns about the living room like you're some Austenian heroine

Don't let him catch you doing any kind of physical labor, because so help him Jesus he will grab a spray bottle and use it like you're a feral alleycat he's trying to house-train (he wouldn't really... but don't test him)

You try to unload the dishwasher? Ehrr! Wrong move. You try to remake the bed? Ehrr! Nice try. You try to mop up your own mess. Ehrr! Enough already. You try to– OCH, WOULD YE BLOODY SIT DOWN, WOMAN?!

For nine long months during his requested leave from work, your husband is attached to you like some kind of loving, smothering barnacle

But doesn't he miss his job, or the lads for that matter? What if the world needs saving? What will they do without him?

Well, (in his exact words) fuck the rest of the world! You're his world, bonnie, and he'll give you everything you could ever wish for and then some

Gaz

By far, you have the most independence with Gaz than you would with any of the other three men… at least, at the beginning of your pregnancy, that is

Once you get to around five or six months he becomes just as helicopter-y as all the others; he's just ever so slightly more bearable, perhaps

There's lots of peeking his head around the corner to check on you throughout the day or appearing seemingly out of thin air whenever you're doing something he'd rather you wouldn't

You've lost count of the number of times you've been in the middle of cooking or hanging up the laundry or whatever and his hand has suddenly appeared out of nowhere, gently taking the object from you before directing you to sit and rest

And like, look. He knows you can handle yourself. He knows you could conquer the whole world if you wanted to. That's one of the things he loves about you the most

But seeing you like this – so fragile, so vulnerable, so beautiful and soft and pregnant with his child; his child – it just… It makes him…

He just needs to do these things for you, alright, love? Just let him take care of you, please? Would you let him do that?

You already have so much you have to carry. Let him ease some of the burden off your shoulders. Let him do these small things for you because they don't even compare to all that you're doing for him 🥲

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karliiiis · 4 months

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ok but

being a part of the 141 (+konig) and having to dress up in disguise for a mission in some rich, fancy casino. the boys are waiting on you, talking amongst themselves.

you walk out wearing a slim black dress, low neckline exposing the top of your cleavage. the dress is fitted to your curves and loose at the bottom to hide the pistol strapped around your thigh. you’re looking down, smoothing out your dress, you don’t notice how every head snaps up at the first sound of your heels on the hard floor.

you don’t notice the way ghost straightens up from leaning on the table, arms still crossed and mask hiding the red creeping up to his cheeks. you don’t notice the way konig shifts awkwardly on his feet, blue eyes darting up and down not knowing where to look. you don’t notice the way gaz bites his lip, almost hard enough to break through the soft flesh and draw blood. you hear soap let out an exaggerated breath, a quick “godda-“ before he’s cut off by a smack to the back of the head from price.

you whip your head up at price’s chuckle, seeing soap rubbing the back of his head. “does this look alright? you can’t see my gun, can you?” you ask turning around to show them the back of your thigh where it’s strapped tightly. you miss the way ghost bites his fist, eyes rolling to the back of his head as soap nudges his shoulder giggling like a school boy.

#call of duty #ghost cod #cod #simon ghost riley #konig #john soap mactavish #john price #simon riley x reader #konig x reader #soapghost #soap cod #task force 141 #kyle gaz garrick

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bleuu-moon · 3 months

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no masters or kings

prologue.

note: here she issss!!! finally after putting it off so many times because i’m a shit bag lol. me 🤝 combining my unhinged obsession with price, ghost and zombie media and making it into my dream fic <3

pairing: john price + simon ‘ghost’ riley x f!reader

tags: zombie apocalypse au, slow burn-ish, smut, poly relationship (price + ghost share you gahhhh). she/her pronouns used, but no physical description of reader. word count: 1.5k warnings: 18+ mdni. mentions of blood, gore, death and violence.

Everything hurts, aches and burns.

You’ve been on the move for days, constantly moving forward on a desperate search for salvation, refusing your body of any sort of rest it’s crying out for. Your exhaustion makes the rough, solid, wooden floor seem like a California King. Your rucksack like a memory foam pillow. Just grateful for the relief you feel for not being on your feet anymore.

The rain batters against the old cottage’s roof and windows. Luckily, this time, you managed to seek shelter before the incoming shower got too heavy, only leaving your clothes slightly damp in its wake.

Darkness fills the room you’ve comforted yourself in, too dark to see what occupies inside, only able to make out the silhouettes of randomly placed heavy furniture.

You know it was stupid to just assume it was safe, it was something your father had scolded you for in the past. However, with the knowledge that the area was sparse for dead ones, and with the door being firmly bolted with a dated, rusted lock, accompanied by nothing but the smell of damp and dust in the air, you figured that the possibility of running into other survivors inside, was slim.

So, after a hard knock on the frame of the door, and no movement as a result, you claimed it your sanctuary for the night.

You shiver into your utility coat, pulling your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt to create any sliver of warmth. However, with the dampened fabric that sits on your skin, it only makes the chill in the air even more prominent.

A fire, even a shitty half melted candle would have been accommodating, but with your lack of resources, the function of your own body is the best option you have.

The more your body shivers, the grip on your knife tightens, as you lie slightly next to the door, just behind where it swings open. Barely something you could call a strategy, but something that gave you somewhat more of chance at a defence.

An advantage of some sorts, just in case someone decides to slaughter you before you have chance to wake up.

After what seems like hours of your mind being unable to forget the bitter cold that nips at your body, and the ache of hunger that rattles in your stomach, you drift towards sleep. Thinking back to the days when you would spend your evenings in front of your parents’ log fire and the hot chocolates that warmed your hands, sounds of laughter and music filling your ears.

You think about that time at the camp, the intense heat that tingled on your face as fires raged through the tents, vehicles, people. Screaming and wailing erupting into the air as you raced towards the woods—

It grips at your throat, forcing you to be unable to breath. It feels like you’re choking on your own air. Chest becoming tighter and tighter with each gasp, anxiety consuming you even in your unconsciousness.

Images flash around your mind, those of bodies, some burned, some deceased, some both but still walking. Snapping teeth and hands make their way towards you, belonging to those who you once considered friends, family.

Your father. A face so familiar yet so unrecognisable, it’s him, but not really. Eyes glazed over with milky white, blood pooling from his mouth and nose, snarling as his frame lunges for you. You want to run, need to run, but you’re frozen with fear. Just as your feet are about to step back, his large body falls on you pinning you to the ground. You fight, and fight and fight, pushing against anywhere you can, but it’s no use.

And only thing you have the strength to do is scream—

Click.

Your body jerks awake with a gasp, eyes snapping open.

It’s a sound you’ve heard before, one that you never forget.

“She’s awake.”

The air is knocked from your lungs as a man’s voice hits your ears before you can fully grasp your surroundings, groggy from the sleep you’ve been ripped from. You don’t see him, only the barrel of the gun that’s being held in the direction of your head.

“Don’t speak.” He spits, before you could even master up the courage to talk. His accent is heavy, Scottish. You watch as he nudges the gun slightly to the side. “Sit up.”

His orders are snappy, full of seriousness that makes a lump form in your throat. For a moment, you feel so numb you can’t move, but when he growls at you to move, it kicks your arse into gear. Obeying his orders, you gulp as you quickly rise from your place on the ground, leaning your back against the wall, pulling your knees to your chest.

Moving helps you get a better look at the man behind the gun. He seems a similar age to you, even though he’s wearing thick garments covered with a heavy packed tac-vest, his muscular build is obvious.

His blue eyes are piercing into yours, before they flicker down to the knife that still resides in your hand, nodding his head, signalling you to discard it. You hesitate, feeling uneasy about giving up the only thing you have to defend yourself, but his eyes narrow, brows pulling downwards in frustration.

Usually, you’d try to put up more of a fight, but something irks at you. The gun he easily holds in hands isn’t like one you’ve seen in person before, its bulky, long, like something from an action movie. The vest that wraps around his body is heavily layered and stocked with what you can only assume is ammunition.

He wasn’t just someone who managed to get their hands on big gun, he was someone who knew exactly what to do with it.

And with the understanding of that, you slide your knife towards his boots.

“Look, I—"

“Check her bag.” He cuts you off, seemingly speaking to someone else. Someone you were unaware of.

Another man appears from the side of you, surprising you as he stomps his way over and grabbing your rucksack off the floor.

Like the other, he’s similar in age, and dressed in the same intimidating attire, except he's slightly taller and sporting a very worn cap on his head.

“How'd you get in here?” He asks firmly, unzipping your bag. He sounds southern English.

“I—um, picked the lock.”

He only hums at your response, raising his brows momentarily before beginning to dig through the contents of your sack. There’s harsh silence as he does, an overwhelming feeling of being a deer in some headlights as your eyes flicker between the two men.

“I didn’t know it belonged to anyone.” You’re finally able to look around the room, now that daylight is allowing its contents to become visible. It’s barely filled, derelict and tired, only a few pieces of tatty furniture scattered around. “I was just looking for somewhere to hold up for the night.”

They don’t reply, only a look from the man who’s searching through your belongings, as other remains still, gun still pointed towards your face.

“Are you going to kill me?”

“Only if you give us a reason to.” The man in-front of you snaps.

“There’s nothin' in here…nothin' useful anyway.”

The rucksack ends up beside you again, landing on the floor with a thud.

"Am curious.” The Scot sounds prying. “How've you manage to survive this long with a shitty knife and an empty rucksack?”

“I—”

You stop yourself. Gulping down the lump that has seemingly formed back in your throat. You don't know these people from Adam, they're strangers, and strangers, especially in this day and age, meant fucking danger. Those who are left aren't people that you can be open and honest with, letting all of your vulnerabilities lie bare, it only gives them opportunities to use it against you, and then they take, and take, and take.

But, what do you really have to lose? The worst thing that could happen is they think you're lying and it ends with a bullet hole in through skull. And when you think about that, it's not even really the worst thing.

“I’ve only been on my own for a couple of days. I was in a camp but we—” You look down at the floor. “—it’s gone now.”

“Gone?”

You nod gently, eyes still burning into wood in-front of you.

“Another group, they came, and they just destroyed everything…murdered everyone. There's nothing left.”

“Where?” The man to your left quizzes, your eyes meeting his. His intense glare has been replaced by something that resembles sympathy and concern.

“Near Burnsall, about a mile down the river, on the golf course near it.”

The two become silent, you watch as they both turn to each other. Eyes saying more than words, a mute conversation unravelling between them. You become on edge, your mind starting to work overtime, thoughts tripping over thoughts, wondering if they were about to end your life, change it, or make you wish that they chosen the first one. And once you see the Scot shake his head at whatever the other was getting at, you become even more alert.

Suddenly, you jerk as he lunges towards you, his gloved hand wrapping harshly around your bicep and hauling you to your feet.

“Well, looks like it’s your lucky day…ya comin' with us.”

#captain john price #simon ghost riley #price x reader #ghost x reader #price x female reader #ghost x female reader #apocalypse au #price x reader x ghost

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bagofshinyrocks · 5 months

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Government name vs Military callsign

Prompt: What scares them worse? Addressing them by their full government name, or addressing them by their military callsign?

Featuring: Task Force 141 (CoD: MW2) - John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish (separately) x GN!Reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Warnings: none

John Price

Government name.

Calling him Captain or Skipper just ends with him sauntering to where ever you are and ask (in an obnoxiously self-satisfied voice) what you wanted. Like a cat pretending it can’t hear the urgency in your tone when you say to get off the counter.

“If you want me to ‘shake a leg’, call my name, luvie.”

Now if you holler “Jonathan Price”, he’ll drop something. Either the newspaper in his hands, or his heart into his stomach. He sure as hell moves his ass with a purpose, and he’s peering into the room with an apology on his lips.

“Yes, luv? What’s wrong, poppet?”

“Lift the other end of the couch, would you?”

He does, and you shimmy it further back in the room. “Anything else I can do, love o’ my life?” He’s hovering, and gently coaxing you into his arms. Gauging how mad you were at him. You curled into him and kissed his chin. Then stepped away with a pat to his chest.

“No, sweetheart, just wanted you to shake a leg is all.”

When he remembers your previous conversation, he groans and tells you to fuck off.

Simon Riley

Military callsign.

When you two are alone, and he’s already given you permission to call him Simon, don’t call him Ghost. When you say that word, he assumes one of his mates are at the door or on the phone, and goes from Simon to Ghost. Stalks into the room with narrowed eyes, only to find you in the kitchen. By yourself.

“Ghost, you want a sandwich too? Turkey and cheese.”

“Fuck you callin’ me that for?”

Once he sees you’re alone, he swoops in and wraps around you like a hoodie. A firm kiss to your ear, then your cheek, then spun you around. Back pressed to the counter top. Settles his face right close to yours.

“We playin’ games now?” You didn’t want to upset him, so you pressed a kiss to his nose. His grumpy look faded a bit.

“Sorry, baby.” Arms wrapped carefully around his shoulders. And your fingers scratch his scalp. Another kiss to his nose. “I’m sorry for playing games with you. Simon Riley.”

Hearing his name on your lips finally cracked, and he gave you a smile. A little scar on the upper lip. You gave it a kiss, and then pressed a kiss to his lips.

A quick surge forward, and you only just had time to shove aside the things behind you before you found yourself on the countertop.

Kyle Garrick

Government name.

He doesn’t mind being called Gaz, and you’ll use Kyle and Gaz interchangeably. Doesn’t even mind if you use “Kyle” or “honey” in front of his squadmates. Though “Kylie” he does have some displeasure with.

“I’ll have you know, Soap is still calling me Kylie, you asshole.”

Call him ‘Garrick’, and he knows that you are pretending to be mad at him. He slinks over and rubs his face against your cheek. He’s too cute for you to stay mad.

If you shout “Kyle Garrick”, he comes running. He could have sworn that he put his clothes in the hamper. And did the dishes. And taken out the recycling. Damn, what was it that he forgot?

“Kyle Ga-”

“Yes, dear!” Shit, he didn’t mean to ‘yes, dear’ you. “Yes, my dear, I’m right here.”

You pause your laundry folding and summon him with a crook of your finger. Once he’s close enough, you tap your lip with the same finger. “I need a kiss.”

He blinked once. Then twice. “God damn you.” He squishes your face in his hands and gave you a quick, firm kiss. “Don’t stress me out like that. Thought you were mad.”

“Give me another kiss, or I will be.”

He rapid fire kissed your mouth, chin, and cheeks, then gave you a smack on the ass before returning to the living room.

“In my own fucking home,” he muttered.

John MacTavish

Military callsign.

He’s got some thick skin. And he’s had his name shouted angrily many a time. He would all but skip into the room with a big smile on his face. The only people who shouted that name (and wore out the scare-factor on it) were his family members. Shouting “John MacTavish” meant you loved him. You were also mad at him, but you loved him. That was more important. Even with your scowl and the gross pile of garbage he kept forgetting to take out. You loved him.

Now shouting his callsign reminded him of his superior officers.

“SOAP!”

Shit shit shit. He put down his beer and ran from the garage to the backyard. Leg brace over his sweats, low cut muscle shirt that you also wolf-whistle at when he wears. You were only weeding the garden boxes.

“JOHNNY!”

“I’m here, bonnie,” he hollered, rounding the corner. You were sitting in the dirt, a tidy pile of weeds and dead plant bits next to you.

“C’mere, c’mere.”

He leaned down next to you, hand on your shoulder and good knee on the ground. “Wassit?”

You pointed to the leaf in your hand. “A caterpillar, Johnny. An itsy-bitsy caterpillar.”

He sighed heavily and kissed your shoulder. “Bonnie, I thought something was wrong.”

“Hm?” You spared him a glance. “What are you talking about, bubba?”

“You called me Soap.”

“Did I? Didn’t mean to spook you, loverboy.” You gave him an apologetic kiss on the lips. “Just wanted you to see the caterpillar before he wiggled off.”

Posted: 2023 Dec 10

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frogchiro · 3 months

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Maybe an unpopular opinion but a domesticity kink + dry humping is one of the best combos out there EVER

Like imagine this big, strong, burly man like Price or Simon or Graves being absolutely wild and soft for you, the pretty housewife that drives a man crazy♡ All soft curves, nice ample breasts and soft, broad hips with a pretty floral apron tied around your waist as you cook a nice hearty mean for your tired man and greet him with that beautiful smile of yours :((

It honestly would make them soft, desperate, hating the idea of being even a second longer away from you, all pent up and horny so they just cling with their big, rough hands to your hips and they can't helo themselves but thrust their quiclly hardening cocks against you, effectively humping you like an animal in heat but even your soft whines that you need to finish their dinner doesn't stop the man; he needs to fuck, needs to be close to his girl♡

#kin speaks #hhhrrrnng #just men being desperate enough that even dry humping would be enough for them💔#cod x reader #cod mw x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #philip graves x reader #graves x reader #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #price x reader #simon riley cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley #philip graves #cod graves #captain john price #john price

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chamomiletealeaf · 6 months

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Thought of this at work today lmao

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loveindefinitely · 3 months

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task force 141 with a controversially young civilian girlfriend.

-> mentions of large age-gaps, referenced sexual content, alcohol use. afab!fem!reader. minor dubcon (everyone's drunk.)

thinking that you're studying in uni. working on the side to try and afford rent and, if you're lucky, some noodles every other night. you don't really get seen compared to your friends, who go out clubbing and spend their spare time on dating apps.

one time, your friend drags you to a bar. not usually your scene, considering its clientele is more for tradies, and military-type men. not like the stuck-up blue collar boys at your uni.

cue you getting drunk off your ass, barely even standing, when you bump into one johhny mactavish.

he holds your elbows, your chest crashing into his. gentle with it, too -- kind and sweet and grounding.

"y'alright, lass?" he asks, a small smirk on his face, eyes darting across your frame greedily. he, in all fairness, looks nearly as drunk as you. he stumbles a little with your weight.

you giggle, tilting your head to look at him. say something stupid like, "you don't look like a student."

his brows raise, his dimples deepen. "aye, very smart, hen."

you preen with the compliment, a cheesy grin stuck to your face. you make no move to stand up and leave. you think your friend just left with a guy anyways.

johnny moves you, muscled arm around your waist as he takes you to a booth.

three other men sit in it, only one looking somewhere in a ten-year age bracket to you. they're all impossibly large, filling out the space with ease. your stomach swoops, but you easily blame the alcohol.

manoeuvring you so you sit in his lap, johnny's hand is a comforting weight on your waist. he huffs a laugh.

"didn't realise we were goin' for jailbait, soap," the youngest one chimes, dark features shining in the pub's dim light. his eyes trail your frame silkily.

you can't stop the roll of your eyes -- your inhibitions have made you senseless. "'m not, 'm completely," you drag out the syllables, "legal."

a hand on your thigh makes you jolt, and when you look over, a blonde man with a black medical mask raises an unimpressed brow. "got a problem, kid?"

you shoot him a weak glare. "not a kid. weirdo."

the arm around your waist tightens, as does the weirdo's hand encompassing your thigh.

"not scared of anythin', are you darl'?" the final man in the booth asks, hands folded together where they rest at the table. he looks at least double your age, and that simple fact along with his drawling words has your core tightening.

"what's there to be scared of?" you ask, stupidly. your head tilts to the side, unknowingly moving to rest on johnny's shoulder. he doesn't comment.

"miss bein' young and drunk," gaz sighs, hand softly gripping the gin sat on the table in front of him.

"you look young," your brows furrow, not understanding. how old could he really be, to act so nostalgic of your current predicament? "how old are you guys?"

it's an embarrassing question -- makes you feel like a child all over again. but your interest is quickly peaking, and your need for answers overpowers your need for decorum.

johnny's the one to answer, his lips brushing your ear as he whispers.

"gaz, the pretty one over there, he's twenty-eight," he murmurs, heat stirring low in your gut as you nod mindlessly, meeting gaz's eyes.

johnny stokes his thumb over the skin of your hip, and you curl into him further -- stranger be damned.

"i'm thirty," he hums, and god, he sounds so fucking sensual you're about to melt into his arms. if you aren't already.

"the guy in the mask?" said man's hand tightens impossibly against your skin, fingers just shy of grazing your aching pussy, "he's thirty-seven. got a lot of experience, aye?"

you shudder.

"what about you?" you end up voicing, shyly meeting the last man's gaze. he takes a slow sip of his whiskey.

he leans back into the cushion, eyeing you carefully.

"forty-three."

your thighs squeeze together, and fuck, if that's not a turn-on. no matter how unsafe you should feel, surrounded by four military-grade, older men, it only manages to have you wet beyond belief.

all you can manage is one question.

"take me home?"

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alwaysshallow · 6 months

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boys trying to survive nnn with their partner (141 + los vaqueros + könig x f!reader)

a/n: if it wasn't for @blissful-bunny, there wouldn't be nnn. LMAOOO i hope y'all will enjoy, it's my first time doing something like this... and i think i don't hate it as i did before!

mdni, as always. nsfw below + keegan's version here

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Being around Ghost durning this time is funny, to say the least. You know about this bet from Gaz, when you invited the whole Task Force 141 for dinner. There wasn't much of a reaction from you, just a nod and a hum that's interesting to hear that. Nothing more, until your boyfriend's friends went home, and you stayed with him, washing dishes.

"You think you're gonna last?" you ask, and you pretty much can't stop yourself from laughing when he gives you a side eye.

"'s just a month." he grumbles, and you know, you somehow irritated him. Or, the bet did, you're not really sure. "Been through worse."

Theoretically, it is true. He's military, he has seen things that you won't ever see, something so stupid like this challenge shouldn't be something hard to do.

Practically? Practically, he takes every fucking chance to get closer to you. You're making breakfast, showering, washing the dishes? He's gonna be right behind you. It's not surprising at first, he liked to be near you always, but it has a malicious intent to it, when he drags his clothed cock up and down your ass, grunting right into your ear. He gets you worked up, and you're pretty sure he's gonna lose, but he stops right before he cums.

You can't really decide if it's funny or sad to see him like this. It's his pained expression that he gives when he bites on his lower lip, grumbling something about watching you touching yourself, so it will be better. You can't really say no to a man starved, so you put out a show for him, thinking how so much better his fingers would be in your pussy.

If it would depend on you, you'd kneel and relieve him, but what can you do, when he has this ridiculous challenge of his?

He breaks after two days, when he sees you in your shared gym, exercising. It's unexpected, when he puts down dumbbells you were working with, doing squats; you want to ask what's wrong, but when he lifts you up, your back hitting the wall, you just know. You even forgive him when he doesn't prep you enough, and he just thrusts into you without much thinking of it, his balls heavy.

You know you won't leave this gym for a long time.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

"You're participating in what?"

To say it was weird, was one thing. To say that Kyle does it, was even weirder, especially that he was straight from two months of deployment. Needy. You knew it, as you were with him almost three years by now, he had always spent hours in bed with you because he missed you like a madman. These two months were pretty much the longest you've been separated with him, so, you can imagine your surprise, when you learned about the challenge, when you two were cleaning your apartment. He was touching you every now and then, giving you little kisses, and now he was talking about something like this.

"I'm—"

"—No, I heard you" you chuckled, shaking your head. "I'm like… trying to understand who convinced you to do so."

"Bet with Soap. Lad thinks 'm not gonna last with you." he murmurs, and you just know that this motherfucker made this as a personal challenge. So, you just nod your head, to Kyle's surprise on his pretty face. "That's… all you're gonna say?"

"What else I'm supposed to say?" you raise your eyebrow, amused. "That I feel sorry for you, this will do?"

"That ain't funny."

"It is, kind of funny." you grin, as you kiss his forehead, at which he closes his eyes, so you repeat kissing his forehead a few times. "I'm gonna support you in this, yeah? So it's gonna be easier."

It wasn't easier. You could see that he glances at you every now and then, when you are doing domestic things around the house, giving him little, encouraging smiles. Little do you know that Kyle's bulge is growing larger and larger every time he looks at you.

Gaz is pretty calm, at least until he sees you in his t-shirt (that is way too big for you) and just panties underneath, sitting right beside him with a bowl of popcorn. You two planned to watch a movie, but your boyfriend quickly brushes it off, as his hand wanders under the hem of your panties.

"Kyle, you—"

"I know." he almost growls, as he puts you on his lap.

The moment he feels your wetness, he's a gone man; he makes you ride him, and the challenge is just a fading memory, when his lips attack yours.

John "Soap" MacTavish

Soap is absolutely offended when everyone in Task Force 141 tells him he's gonna lose the challenge. He can't shut up about it for an hour straight, as he lays with his head on your lap, telling you something about celibacy and being true lover, not some "horny arse like the others". You listen to it with a small, amused smile on your lips because as much as you love your boyfriend, everyone is right about it.

He's not gonna last, and he knows it personally too, but you say nothing about it. You just listen to Johnny's ramblings, until his eyes are on you, observing your reaction so casually.

"What do ya think? 'm gonna beat it? Be the best?" he tilts his head like a puppy, squinting his eyes. It's an icy ground you're standing on right now.

"I think… it's gonna be hard." you answer; slowly, reluctantly. It's not something that he wants to hear though, as he groans, shaking his head with displeasure. "What? You asked!"

"I ken it's gonna be hard. 'm askin', if 'm gonna beat it" he emphasizes his last words, and you can feel he barely holds himself from rolling his eyes.

"…well, baby, as much as I have faith in you in other things…"

It's not a good answer for him, nor for a challenge, considering that you end up getting fucked by him – it's some kind of punishment, he tells you, when he folds you in half. He tells you that he also didn't lose the challenge, technically, as you had sex November 1st , at 3 a.m. You nod, hesitantly, so you could go to sleep without causing him to ramble about it again; you are exhausted.

It takes him three days of fucking you in various places to finally come into the conclusion that the challenge isn't for him. Three days of promising and hearing him whining that it's gonna be 'st the tip, baby, to feel you good.

"Good that you've figured that out." you say with a small smile, in restaurant's bathroom, his forehead against yours, as his cock is still buried deep inside you.

"Lasted longer than lads. Sure of that."

John Price

You want to think of your husband highly, when you hear of this stupid thingy. The authority, someone that leads the Task Force 141, setting the example for his younger proteges with his willpower. Someone who actually cares about engaging in challenges, even if they're stupid, even if he shouldn't even look at something like this.

Yet, you know John, you're married to him, for God's sake – and you know his sex drive. When this man is home, nothing and no one stops him from getting what he wants, and that's on you. In your mind, there's a core memory of him saying that he absolutely loves your pussy, multiple times.

So it's not a surprise that he doesn't participate in this challenge. It's not a surprise when he babbles about having kids with you while he fucks you wherever he can; kitchen counter, under the shower, your couch. His obsession over kids grew over this month more than ever, and you were happy to meet his expectations in a middle, since you thought of having a little angel in your small family for a longer time now. Having a dog wasn't enough.

A surprise comes when he proudly admits that he won in the end of the month. Boys are pretty much shocked by this, considering that their Captain didn't even look frustrated once, and he was in better mood than usual. Yet, they don't have a place to complain, so they accept the defeat with a frown on their faces, and a quick comment from Soap that he for sure cheated.

"You didn't win, honey." you laugh to him, sitting at his lap, when he's in his office, alone.

Price arches his eyebrow in amusement. "I did."

"That's not really—"

"Listen, we were tryin' for babies, weren't we? It wasn't egoistical fuckin'." he explains, completely serious.

It takes all in you not to either gasp or laugh again. "So, if it would be without the intention of making babies, you'd lose?"

He gives you a quick nod. "Exactly, missus. Exactly."

Alejandro Vargas

It's easy to last a few days for Alejandro. Maybe even a week, or a bit more. With his kind of work, being a Colonel, you often didn't see him for days, or even weeks if it was a bad time. Right now, with working over destroying a Mexican cartel, being home was rare for him. Was it saddening? Of course, but you knew what you were doing when you married him, you've talked with him about it for days, maybe weeks, even.

So, maybe that's why he didn't really think much of a challenge when he agreed to it, one of the nights he was drinking with Los Vaqueros. Just for fun, just to make a fun memory in this mess they were in. Days were passing in the blink of an eye with the same routine; a few hours of sleep if he's lucky, patrol, documents, action and repeat. Nothing too fancy, nothing too new for a man of war like he is, he got used to it all.

Harder was the moment he came home to you, where you were waiting for him with your open arms, all needy for his presence, for his touch, but somehow, somehow he managed, giving you the best orgasm of your life with his mouth only, even if he was in need too.

"Cariño?" he calls you, confused, when he doesn't see you in bed in the next morning. In his sweatpants only, he goes to the kitchen, following the sound of pan that sizzles lazily in the background.

"Makin' breakfast, Ale!" you reply, looking behind your shoulder with the biggest smile that slowly falters the moment you see his eyes darkening in the span of seconds. "What's with the face?"

He approaches you slowly, caging you between his arms. "Just… appreciating" he says, as he starts kissing your neck "my little wife. Who's been really patient with me, gone for so many days. And now, you're making me breakfast—" he groans, shaking his head. You can feel his growing bulge, as you grind your ass against it.

It's obvious that Colonel lost the challenge, after he arrives to his work with his wife, his arm possessively around her. Why? Maybe it's your neck covered in hickeys, your trembling legs, or his arms visibly scratched, but no one says anything about it in the base.

Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

You have a kind of forbidden romance with him; you're the one of Los Vaqueros, and the romance is absolutely prohibited here, to prevent the collapse of the squad. Not to mention that he's a right hand man of Alejandro, so he has to follows the rules directly. Maybe even more than anyone here, to be honest; setting an example that he's not a exception to the rule.

It doesn't help that you're so kind. That you nod every time you see him as a silent greeting, and then you rush to do whatever you have to do today. It doesn't help him that you're helping everyone around you with a smile that could light up the whole town, and he smiles every time he sees it, too.

Everyone pictures that Rudy would win the challenge easily, since in their heads, his head wasn't occupied with anyone, and he could easily withold himself with his desires.

And maybe he would. Maybe he would, if you weren't the one guarding the base with him, if you weren't the one who was smiling at him with those plump lips of yours.

"If you'd only know how much I thought about… hah—" his breaths are ragged, as the pace of his hips gets quicker. His lips finds yours, as he kisses you with such hunger, you know without a doubt that he means what he says. It automatically makes you smile.

"It's fate that binds us, then" you say, your fingernails clutching at his arms; you're sure that you're the creator of bloody crescents here, but you can't care less about it. Not when the man of your dreams is fucking you.

He smiles at your words.

Rudy never been a good liar, and you painfully learn it, when Alejandro asks him why he's so happy; as you stand nearby, you hear the whole conversation. It's cute in some way, the way he's a blabbering mess, without any sense of it.

It takes Colonel's one look at you, and he knows.

You never walked faster to your work, neither did Rudy.

Konig

If you think he's gonna even try playing at this, you're in deep denial. Maybe if he'd be alone he could try of a genuine curiosity, but not when he has you. Such a pretty, obedient girlfriend, that he has wrapped around his finger, and a girlfriend that is pretty much at his service every time he wants.

He's a man to laugh about that challenge with his squad, telling them that they're filthy, and he would last the whole month, maybe even longer, if it weren't for you. Because he's such a caring boyfriend, he listens to your needs, even if you're whiny.

At least, that's the story that his squad knows.

He tells you about this while he folds you in half, that he needs to act a little grumpy around his squad, to put a facade that he's hungry because it's the right thing to do. When you suggest that he could even try, he barks a low laugh, while he pumps his cock before thrusting into you.

"Schatz, as if. Not gonna play the kids game." it's all he says, kissing you with affection on your swollen lips. "I do not intend on torturing you like this. You wouldn't survive a day without my dick."

There's some truth to it — but you're truly wondering if that's you who wouldn't survive without his dick, or he, that wouldn't survive without your pussy and sex, considering he is even more of a maniac than you are.

dividers by cafekitsune

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