#kyle garrick x female reader

[mangowafflesss]

Wrong Room | Gaz x F!Reader

Paring: Uni!Gaz x F!Reader

Summary: After fleeing a party you seek solace in an empty bedroom which turns out to not be empty... {FLUFF}

WC: 1,887

Part 2

Rushing inside, you shut the door quickly behind you and let out a deep breath and close your eyes as you rest your head against the door. The loud music coming from outside makes your head pound and you want nothing more than to go home, but sadly you can’t without your roommate. 

Opening your eyes you’re immediately met with the concerned look of Kyle Garrick, who is sitting at his desk playing a video game - which is currently paused due to your intrusion.  

“What are you doing in here?” His headset was slightly askew on his head and you just blink at him, did you really just walk into the wrong room?

“Hi. Um- I’m sorry I got the wrong room” you turn to exit the room but fumble with the doorknob and it falls off in your hand. “Wait-” his words were too late as the damage had already been done. 

Turning back around with the brown sphere in hand, you give him a wonky smile and blush with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry…” he stands from his chair, which rolls back against his bed and walks over to you. 

“Yeah, it uh needs to be fixed and if the pin has fallen then well… we’re stuck” he gets onto his knees and checks the door and as he tries to put the knob back on. It falls again. 

Gulping he looks up at you and he could see the tears forming in your eyes already. “Hey hey, it’ll be okay we just need to get someone to open it on the other side” he shrugs his shoulders and your eyes glance over to the door where loud music is still blasting. 

Reaching down to your bag you realise you left it in the other room, the one you were supposed to go into originally. “Shit, do you have your phone?” You ask and watch as he reaches over his bed to grab it. Unlocking it and passing it to you, your fingers fly over the screen trying to find Johnny’s number “C’mon Soap answer please” you tap your foot on the ground and when he doesn’t answer you roll your eyes and sigh. 

“Why does Soap never answer his phone” you groan and look through his contacts for anyone else you knew was out there, but sadly he doesn’t have many. 

“Well your first mistake is ringing him in an emergency and I also don’t have your roommates number so I think we’re stuck” realisation sinks in as you hear him say he doesn’t have Farah’s number, you’re going to be trapped with Kyle in his smelly bedroom. Rushing over to the door you bang your fists against it hoping someone would hear you over the music. 

“No one will hear you” he was sat back down at his desk and you eventually drop your arms by your side. Sulking, you drop on the edge of his bed and sit there with your head in your hands. “I didn’t even want to be here in the first place” you mumble to yourself but Kyle heard what you said. 

“Then why come? No offence but if I didn’t want to do anything I wouldn’t do it” 

“Is that why you trapped yourself in here all night” you removed your hands from your face and pointed to his computer monitor. 

“Exactly! I didn’t feel like doing anything and this is Soaps party so why not hide in my room, also if I’m in here no one will have sex in my bed” he seemed really proud of that fact and you smiled at him. Maybe you could at least enjoy your night in here away from everyone. Even if you don’t really know Kyle that well. 

All you knew was, he is Soaps roommate and also was doing the same degree as him. You’ve only ever spoken to him a handful of times and it was either hello or goodbye. Perhaps it was a good time to get to know him better, seeing as he’s technically a friend. 

“What are you playing?” You question as you watch the screen flicker and light up the room as he… shoots people? 

Standing from the bed, you stand beside him and rest an arm at the top of his chair. He could smell your perfume waft towards him which makes him lose focus and die. “Oh damn, was that my fault?” You place a hand on your chest and play with your necklace. 

“No don’t worry about it, do you want to sit down?” You look around the room for another chair but frown when you don’t see one. When you felt him tap you on the arm you look at where he was now stood and furrow your brows. He points to his chair and you make an ‘o’ shape with your mouth. “I can’t break your door handle and steal your chair” you say shaking your head and he grabs a wooden crate and stands it on the side. 

“I’m alright here, you sit there” he pushes the chair towards you and you hesitantly sit down. It was super warm from his body heat and you find yourself snuggling into it. As you were too busy getting comfy you flinch when you feel something touch your ears, looking up you see Kyle smiling down at you with another headset in his hands. Grabbing it from his hands you put it on and listen to the sounds of the game filter through your ears. 

You occasionally looked over at where he sat and watched how he bites his lip when he’s concentrating. You couldn’t believe you were saying this but maybe it was also the little alcohol you had in your system making your brain a little fuzzy. As you stared at him you thought he looked quite… pretty. Ethereal. The way the screen lit up his face made it stand out the best parts of him, including the scar on his face you just want to reach out and touch. 

When he caught you staring he slid off his headphones and you did the same. “Are you okay?” Nodding your head you let out a yawn and give him a small smile. “You can lay down if you want” he points at his bed and you start to giggle to yourself. 

“You want me in your bed Kyle?” You tease and watch as he becomes flustered and start to play with the drawstrings of his hoodie. “I’m just kidding, I know you’re not like that” you give him another friendly, genuine smile and stretch your back. 

Kyle looks you up and down and notices the probably uncomfortable dress you were wearing, his gaze lingers slightly but he shakes his thoughts away and stands up, walking over to his dresser. 

Opening the broken drawer you let out another giggle and he looks over his shoulder at you “Is anything in your room not broken?” 

“Probably just my bed” he huffs a laugh. 

He pulls out something with a triumphant sound and you tilt your head trying to see what he’s got. He holds out a dark grey T-shirt and you look at him confused. 

“So you can sleep, I’m sure that dress isn’t comfy to sleep in” 

“Hmm I don’t know, it’s pretty comfy when blackout drunk on the bathroom floor” you smile ear to ear and take it from him. Looking around his room you make a clicking sound with your mouth when you figure out where to get changed. 

“Could you… turn around” you ask and see his eyes avert from your body and he turned so fast. 

“You know, I’ll probably not sleep with that music still playing” 

“You don’t have to sleep, maybe we could watch something, if you like” 

There was a still silence through the room as you got changed, Kyle stared at the wall twirling his thumb around the other waiting for you to finish. 

“Umm do you have any pants I could wear, this shirts a bit short” 

“Shorter than that dress?” 

“Obviously! Unless this was your intention all along Kyle Garrick” your tone was playful and you could see his back tense up and freeze. 

How could someone be so attractive from behind? 

You see him move over to the drawers and dig through his things “I threw some stuff out so how about a pair of boxers?” He holds them up for you to see over his shoulder. 

“Sure, I guess they’ll do. Don’t want you staring at my ass” you whisper the last part into his ear as you take the briefs out of his hands. 

“Okay, I’m done!” you shout to him and go over to his bed. Pushing back the covers you climb inside and fluff the one pillow that’s on your side. 

Kyle watched you get yourself comfy and broke out of his trance and grabbed his laptop. He throws it onto the bed and then takes his hoodie off, you see the small slither of his stomach as his shirt rolled up and avert your eyes. 

He slides into the bed beside you and bumps his shoulder against yours. Ignoring it, he grabs the laptop and opens it. “So… what do you wanna watch?” he asks while tapping in his password. 

“Whatever, I’m not picky” you slide down so you're on your back and watch his movements as he finds something for you both to watch. 

Once you’re both settled and watching the movie, you both speak lightly and eventually you both forget about it.

“I can’t believe he would flood an entire house with bubbles!” you were grabbing your stomach as you laughed, the image of the incident fresh in your mind. 

“Yeah at least he got an annoying nickname out of it” 

“Mm, you know what Kyle. I’m glad I came in here tonight, you’ve been the best company I’ve had for a while” you smile as you mean every word. 

“Well, I didn't have a choice. Someone broke my doorknob” he gave you an accusative look and you frown and push him away “Don’t blame me! You just said its been broken since you moved in”  

“And you beat me up in my own bed” he tuts while shaking his head and holds his arm where you pushed him feigning pain. 

Yawning once more you realised you’ve become more tired. Laying down with your head against the pillow you turn your head and see him do the same. 

“Do we need a pillow wall or can I trust you Garrick” you smirk and watch as he turns the other way. 

“I don’t know, can I trust you?” his voice was muffled but you just laughed and turned off the lamp next to his bed. 

Several Hours Later

“Oi Kyle, I’m so sorry dude I lost my phone-” Soap burst through the door and stops as he sees the sight before him. 

“Farah! Come see this” he whispers and the brunette comes in and gasps.

“They look so cute!” 

You were cuddled up against Kyles chest as he has his arms wrapped around you. Both of you looked at peace and slowly both of them walk out of the room and close the door - making you both stay in there for longer.

#gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz cod #gaz mw2 #kyle garrick #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick x you #gaz x you #gaz x female reader #Kyle Garrick x female reader #gaz call of duty #call of duty modern warfare ii #call of duty mw2 #call of duty

[gloomwitchwrites]

Break Up with Your Toxic Boyfriend (1 of 4)

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: emotional hurt/comfort, brief discussion of verbal and emotional injury, protective Kyle, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

With no one to turn to, you contact Gaz, knowing that he'll listen. But old instincts are hard to ignore, and Gaz comes to you because your current boyfriend isn't worth your love. He needs you to understand that.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // break up with your toxic boyfriend masterlist

It’s late. The colors on the television are bright in the dark room. Sound is off but Kyle isn’t watching. It’s more for the background. A distraction. All the muscles in his body ache. That’s how it always is when he returns from another deployment.

Everything is fine until he arrives home and plops onto the sofa. Like a slumbering bear emerging from winter hibernation, his body reacts to the sudden silence of rest as if peace isn’t something Kyle deserves. It’s why he’s always gone, and because of his continuous absences, you left.

Lonely. You were always lonely with him, and it’s because Kyle made it so. It’s a constant regret that sits in the back of his throat like spice buildup. It burns. Rages. Simmers.

When Kyle’s phone starts buzzing, he doesn’t notice at first. The screen is bright like the television, but it isn’t until its rattling boxy body shifts that Kyle’s gaze glances downward. He considers leaving it, allowing the caller to fall to voicemail, but something stirs in his stomach. It hooks his attention.

Perhaps it’s the late hour or the sudden tightness in his chest. Something is bothering him like stubborn sticky spots on the kitchen floor.

Kyle sits up, reaching for the vibrating phone on the tabletop.

Your name scrolls across the screen.

At first, Kyle’s mind cannot comprehend it. The letters that make up your name move over the screen of the phone in a blur, almost like they’re moving too quickly. But that isn’t possible. Kyle’s mind simply cannot comprehend why the hell you’re calling him this late at night.

You are no longer his. The two of you aren’t together. You moved on and rightfully so. Kyle has seen all the social media posts, and sometimes the blokes at work might bring you up, usually to provoke him. But the fucking joke is on them. The separation was mutual. It was kind and calm and fine.

But that doesn’t mean Kyle hasn’t thought about you. There is no box inside his head to put you in. There is no hole or lock or key or barren wasteland where he could simply toss your memory into and forget.

Kyle didn’t want to pull away. He didn’t want to let you go.

But you weren’t happy. He was always gone, and still is. Kyle never figured out how to be a partner to you when he was a partner to his work.

He regrets not fighting for you. He regrets not speaking up instead of gently bowing out.

And it’s late. It’s fucking late. Why are you calling him?

Hope—or a sliver of it—blooms in his chest, twisting around inside his body like ribbons around bone. When the feeling pulls taut, that excitement slides into worry.

The two of you are not together.

You rarely call him.

But his phone is buzzing.

And you are waiting on the other end.

Kyle’s slides his thumb across his phone’s screen, answering the call. He brings it up his ear, and that is when he hears it—a choked inhalation. It is one he recognizes. You’re crying, and trying to hide it.

“What’s wrong?” asks Kyle automatically, the instinct to take care of you rising to the surface.

There is a soft sniffle before you speak. “It’s—fuck. I’m sorry for calling you this late. I didn’t think you’d even pick up. Or be home. Are you home? Shit. I—”

“What’s wrong?” he repeats, because there has to be something wrong. You’re calling him, not your boyfriend. “Are you hurt?”

The idea of someone putting hands on you builds in his mind. It is followed by so many other possibilities. A wrecked car. Someone following you home. Everything.

“No—I mean.” You pause, sighing. The difficulty to communicate doesn’t sit right with him. You’re clearly in distress and the need to fix it is unbearable.

“Are you at home?” This time Kyle lowers his voice. Makes it soft. Gentle.

“Yes,” you answer.

He nods as if you can see him. “I’m coming over.” Kyle is already pushing off the couch, shrugging on his coat, and reaching for his keys.

“Kyle.” You say his name—just his name—and it says so much.

The ribbon between his bones loosens. Tightens. Ties his emotions and memory of you all together until your face is all he can picture.

“I’ll be there in twenty.”

Kyle makes it in fifteen.

When you answer the door, Kyle shatters like glass hurled against the wall. Your eyes are red and puffy from crying. The look on your face dances between anger, sadness, and relief. He has no idea where on the spectrum he currently sits but this vision of you only puts him back to those days when he’d come home for a few days, taking off again, leaving you with nothing for stretches at a time.

There are no awkward greetings. No embarrassed flushes. Kyle does not hesitate, and you open for him. He reaches for you, and you answer in kind, embracing Kyle so hard you might squeeze the air from his lungs.

That would be fine. Kyle would happily suffocate.

Kyle stands and holds you, breathing in your familiar scent, pressing his face into your hair. His eyes close, and it’s just like before. Like you never left him. The sensation of you this close ignites every possessive part of him. It tells him to not let go and to keep you close.

But you are not his woman. Not anymore. And yet you should be.

He does not pull away until you do. But you don’t retreat into your flat, or slip out of reach. You stay right where you are, the two of you hovering just inside the doorway. On instinct, Kyle is touching you, one hand cupping the side of your face, your tears staining his skin where he touches your flesh. His other hand is on your upper arm, thumb rubbing across the bare skin there in gentle strokes.

You begin to melt, the muscles in your body relaxing. What Kyle wants to do is to take you to the couch or the bed, to drape you over his body, to place you in his lap. That is the intimacy he craves. It’s what he would do if you were still his.

Those gorgeous lips of your part, mouth opening as if you wish to speak, but whatever you want to say is lodged in your throat. In their place come fresh tears and sudden shifts of emotions that range from frustration to despair.

You’re hurting. You’re hurting so much, and Kyle only wants to fix things.

“Look at me,” murmurs Kyle, both hands now cradling your face. “Let’s get you settled. Yeah?” You nod, your small smile forced. “Come with me,” he coaxes.

He draws away and gently reaches out to take your hand, guiding you over to the sofa. He instructs you to recline, grabbing a few more pillows and a blanket. Once you’re all tucked in, Kyle digs around in your kitchen searching for snacks while the kettle boils for tea.

The need to take care of you is overwhelming. Kyle’s head throbs from the incessant voice that tells him to get you calm, to make you comfortable, to listen when you’re ready. The routine is easy, and Kyle provides, executing what you need without prompting or even second guessing it.

And you open up for him. Thank him. Reach out with your hand to hold his as he sits next to you on the couch. You’re calmer now with your tears wiped away and your face no longer puffy.

“Ready to talk about it?”

Your thumb runs along the edge of your mug. “Still want to hear it?”

“You can tell me anything,” he replies automatically.

You lick your lips and inhale. “He yelled at me.” By the defeat in your tone, Kyle can immediately tell that this isn’t the first time.

Kyle stays quiet, allowing you to take the lead, to tell it however you need to.

“This time it happened after we met up with some of his friends. I called him ‘boyfriend’ and got a few odd looks. In the car he told me not to call him that. I didn’t understand so I pushed.” You glance down at your tea. “He screamed the whole ride home. Dropped me off here and wouldn’t even look at me.”

Kyle goes cold all over. You’ve been with this guy for almost six months and he’s upset that you referred to him as your ‘boyfriend?’ No. Fuck him. That’s fuck boy behavior. That’s a man who wants all the benefits without any of the commitment. You don’t deserve that. And this fucker doesn’t deserve you.

Sighing, you reach for your phone and unlock it, turning it around to present it. Kyle takes it, staring at the screen. There are texts upon texts from the guy, all of which you’ve left unanswered. It starts as an apology and quickly becomes angrier as he scrolls.

But you did answer him. It’s the very last message. You sent it just before you called Kyle.

We’re done, it reads.

And there is no answering reply. There are no pulsing bubbles to even indicate that he’s formulating a response.

Good. Fucking good.

Kyle extends his arm, returning the phone. You don’t lock it. You shut it down, tossing it onto the table. Placing the mug of tea down, you sit up, staring intensely into Kyle’s eyes. There is so much he sees there, but he won’t move first even though he wants to, even though he wants you to return to his arms so he can remind you just how perfect the two of you are for each other.

But sometimes memory and the movement of it are just the length of a singular breath.

Maybe it is Kyle that moves first. Maybe it is you. In moments—seconds—you are straddling Kyle’s lap, arms laced around the back of his neck, your mouths pressed together in perfectly wanton need, a reunion that shakes every bone in his body.

You are fresh air. Cold ice cream on a hot summer day. Strawberries with sugar and cream. Sweet. Perfect. And only for his consumption. That is always how it should be.

Kyle’s hands slide up your body, over every curve.

“I miss you. I miss you all the time,” you confess, fingers digging into the front of his shirt.

Your admission is validation.

“I’d never tell you to not call me ‘boyfriend,’” murmurs Kyle against your mouth before going in for another kiss. “I’d want to hear you say it all the time.”

His words are a promise. An invitation.

Take me back. Please. Choose me.

Your lips part and Kyle slides his tongue inside, relearning your flavor. It is heaven dissolving on his tongue. He chases it, chases you, until you’re tugging at his clothes, wanting them gone.

It doesn’t matter that this is your sofa. If you want him, Kyle will lay himself bare, let you have whatever the fuck you want. There isn’t much to remove from you, but once the two of you are bare and you are straddling his lap, Kyle gives all his love and attention to these next moments.

Your body briefly resists, and then it melts, allowing him entrance. Kyle wraps one arm around your waist, hand splayed over your lower back to support your weight as you roll your hips up and down his cock. His other hand holds onto the side of your throat, keeping your gaze on him as you fuck yourself on him.

It’s glorious. Perfect. You are so slick and warm around him. He never forgot, but the real thing is better than memory. Better than his hand in the shower or the dark. You are moaning, light and wavering and only for him.

Your fingers dig in, nails clawing but not tearing. On the next rock of your hips, Kyle slides deep, and the sound you make nearly snaps his control. He holds fast, hand sliding to squeeze your ass as your movements become frantic and with no purposeful rhythm. You’re seeking your end, and Kyle wants you to have it. He needs you to have it.

“Come on my cock, love. For me. Yes. Like that.” You squeeze and Kyle groans loudly. “That’s it. Fucking hell, love.

You turn your face into his neck to stifle the cry that erupts from your throat as your orgasm hits you. Kyle nearly finishes himself, your pussy a vice around him, claiming him. A shudder runs through your limbs, and then you’re nipping at Kyle’s neck and jaw.

“Finish inside me,” you whimper, drawing back enough to gaze into his eyes.

Kyle doesn’t need you to say it twice.

Changing position, Kyle slides both hands to the curve of your ass. Lifting, he shifts you until he’s propped up on his knees. Your legs drape over his arms, completely open for him. You cling to him and Kyle brings your bodies together over and over again.

He will finish—he will, but Kyle needs to hear that word first.

“Are you mine?” he asks between clenched teeth. It’s the only thing keeping him steady. He’s ready to snap, ready to release.

You nod and it isn’t enough.

“Say it.”

“Yours.”

“Mine.”

Kyle grinds his pelvis against you, rubbing perfectly across your already sensitive clit. You cry out, clench around him again, but still, he needs to hear you say it.

“What am I to you?”

“Kyle,” you moan, and he laughs.

“Not that.” A little spasm runs through you and Kyle feels it reverberate all the way to his brain. “Won’t give you what you want until you say it.”

You gasp as the next thrust punches the air from your lungs. “Boyfriend,” you manage to whimper. “You’re my boyfriend.”

Fucking right.

Kyle immediately takes you to your back on the couch, thrusting a few more times before pressing taut, sealing your bodies together as his own release overcomes him.

His mouth meets yours and Kyle’s body is singing, pulsing, and bright.

You are his.

You are his.

You are his again.

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[the-whispers-of-death]

Do you have plans for any updates to pretend boyfriend!Gaz? I love the ones you’ve already written. ❤️☺️👏

- A Gay Gaz Lover 🫡

I wouldn't usually answer this, but I will because it's Gaz & I've had this idea for the next part in the Pretend Boyfriend!Gaz Drabble series but I've written it.

If you're new here and don't know the drabbles I'm talking about here, here is part one & part two.

CW: There's a creep, but Gaz gets him to leave you alone.

Since Thanksgiving, your family was begging for you to bring Gaz around for Christmas. You two talked about it and decided you'd continue the ruse, which made your heat race since you were falling in love with him.

You two were in a store, buying Christmas presents for your family. You were standing in the action figures section, looking for your younger brother's favorite character so you could give it to him for Christmas. You didn't truly know where Gaz was, but you figured he was in the next section, the candle section, looking for your oldest sister's favorite candle.

"Hello there," a man beside you said, his voice husky and clearly filled with flirtatious intent. "I don't usually approach strangers in a store, but you're just so breathtaking and I had to shoot my shot. I'd love to take you out for a date sometimes."

You gritted your teeth, hating the fact that this random man was hitting on you. "No thanks," you replied, thinking that was that.

You moved further down the aisle, trying to get far away from the man. But he followed after you, clearly not taking no for an answer.

"Aw, come on, don't be like that," the man said, catching up to you easily. He caught up enough to reach out and grab your wrist tight, stopping you in your tracks. "Why not give me a chance?"

"Let me go," you hissed, tugging your arm as you tried to get out of his grip. "Leave me alone!"

The man simply tightened his hold on your wrist, using his grip to pull you closer. "No, not until you tell me why you won't give me a chance. You'd be lucky to get a date with me."

You were about to respond, but you didn't need to because you saw the shadow of Gaz's figure before he appeared in your field of vision, appearing behind the man who could tell there was someone behind him.

"I suggest you let my partner go, because I won't ask you twice and you're no a match for me if we get into a fight," Gaz said, his usual snark gone from his voice and there was only anger there. He stood taller than the man in front of him, his brown eyes unusually cold.

You had seen him pissed off only a few times and yet, his anger didn't scare you. His anger, his protectiveness, it made you want to melt into him.

His anger did scare the man holding your wrist, however. The man let go of your wrist almost instantly, but he didn't leave. No, he whirled around to face Gaz and pretended he wasn't scared.

"Oh, you're their boyfriend, huh? They could do better than you," he sneered.

Gaz didn't blink at the insult. "Perhaps they could. But they definitely could do better than you, and they did. Hell, they deserve way more than even I can give them. So go, leave us."

He grabbed the man by the shirt and turned with the man in his hands, moving the man from where he was standing in front of you to behind you two. He pushed the man away, forcing him to retreat.

"Go on, go before I decide I really do want to get into a fight today. And learn to take the answer no at face-value, asshole."

The man seemed to take Gaz's words at heart, or he was too shocked and scared by how easily Gaz had picked him up and moved him aside like he was nothing but trash, because he left shortly after, leaving you two alone in the aisle.

You smiled at Gaz when he looked back at you. "Thank you for that," you said, breathing a sigh of relief now that the other man was gone. "You didn't have to use the ruse to get me out of the situation, though. I'm sure you could've gotten him to leave without saying you were my boyfriend, since you know, it's just a ruse. You didn't have to say that I deserve more than you can give me."

Gaz's brown eyes were softer now and he stepped closer towards you. "And what if it wasn't just a ruse? What if I actually meant what I said?" he asked, his voice soft like you would run away if he spoke any louder.

"Heh, but it was just a ruse," you replied, determined to think this was just your brain making signs where there was none. There was no way Gaz, your best friend, felt the same way about you than you felt about him. "You're not actually my boyfriend."

"I want to be," Gaz murmured, his hand reaching up to gently cup your cheek. He was so close to you that you could feel his breath hitting your cheek. "I didn't realize it until you asked me to pretend to be your boyfriend, didn't realize it until Thanksgiving when I met your family and spent the night sleeping beside you on that air mattress. It felt so right to tell your family how much I love you, how much I want to have a future with you."

He gently pulled you closer, his head ducked down slightly to brush his nose against yours. "I can't think about what my life will be like five years later without thinking about you right beside me. I crave you and I feel like I shouldn't because we're best friends. But you bewitched me, endeared yourself to my soul. I can't sleep a wink without dreaming of kissing you."

His words seemed breathless, like a weight was lifting off his chest by telling you all this.

"Please, if you don't feel the same, know that I will always love you and I can't lose you in my life. I'd watch you be with another if it meant I was still in your life, being warmed by the warmth of your smile. Nothing has to change if you don't feel the same."

"But things do have to change," you responded, making Gaz frown. But you continued on, "Because I feel the same. I want a future where we're together, happy and living a life side by side. My heart skips a beat thinking about you telling my father you love me. I need you in my life, Kyle."

"You'll have me, {Name}," Gaz said, a soft smile forming on his lips as he seemed relieved to know you felt the same way about him. "You'll have me for as long as you'll want me."

You couldn't help but to smile back at him. "What are the chances we'll kiss right here, right now?" you asked, half-joking.

Gaz tilted his head slightly, like he was about to kiss you. But he instead just rubbed your noses together. "As much as I want to," he murmured, "I want to take you out on a proper date before I kiss you."

Your smile grew wider at his words. He just couldn't help but be a gentleman.

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)

#tyler's asks #tyler's inbox #tyler answers asks #answering asks #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #kyle gaz #gaz cod #kyle gaz garrick x male reader #kyle gaz garrick x gender neutral reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x female reader #kyle garrick x male reader #kyle garrick x gender neutral reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick x female reader #kyle gaz x male reader #kyle gaz x gender neutral reader #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz x female reader #gaz x male reader #gaz x gender neutral reader #gaz x reader #gaz x female reader #cod #cod modern warefare 2 #cod mwii #cod mw2 #pretend boyfriend!gaz #:)

[chaosandmarigolds]

“No, no no, baby-baby let mama talk-“ much to your dismay your toddler already took off with the tablet down the hall with your husband on face time. With a disgruntled huff you walk down the hall and move to open the door only to falter for a moment as you hear your husbands voice.

“Takin’ care of your mum, bubs?”

“Des sir.”

“Why you runnin’ from her then?”

“Caasaaus I wanna talk to you and when mummy starts to talk to you she doesn’t share.”

A gruff laugh, “Alright alright, well what do you wanna talk about then, lad?”

You stand outside the door for a solid ten minutes before you knocked on the door and moved your son to your lap to smile down at your husband.

“Hey, honey.”

“Hey, hot stuff.”

You see him roll his eyes and you bite back a smile.

“Lad told me you’re not sharin enough.”

You playfully gasp, which triggered your sons giddy laughter, “No! Really??”

“Really!”

#lil blerb #simon riley x y/n #simon ghost x reader #johnny mctavish x reader #john price #john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle gaz x reader #johnny mactavish #cod x y/n #cod x you #tf 141 x reader #tf 141 #cod imagine #cod fluff #simon fluff #soap x reader #soap fluff #simon riley x female reader #x female!reader

[the-californicationist]

They Help You Practice

Task Force 141 asks you to be the bait for a secret assignment. So, they make you audition for the role. You end up getting gangbanged by the whole team and loving it!

TW: gangbang, vaginal sex, anal sex, oral sex, gay sex, degradation, explicitly consensual, spit? please check AO3 link at bottom for full tag list

You let yourself into his office, shutting the door behind you, and stood before him at a sharp parade rest, waiting to be informed about your fate. 

“Sergeant, thank you for coming. There is no need for formalities. This is just a chat.”

You moved to a more relaxed rest and nodded. 

Price continued,

“This is going to be quite the ask. Would you be willing to perform duties which are…outside of your current scope?”

“Yes, sir,” you responded just as you should have, as you were trained to, but Price was hoping you would understand exactly what you would be getting yourself into. 

“I need you to go undercover to a Konni restaurant cover in Minsk…as bait. Am I making myself clear?”

A pause. But, to your credit, you didn’t flinch. You did raise an eyebrow and ask a clarifying query,

“What kind of bait, sir?”

“Our next target, Dimitri Sokolov, will be at the Black Pearl bar in Minsk tomorrow, and we won’t get a better chance to lure him away from his bodyguards. He almost never makes public appearances, so he must be making an exception. Sokolov has,” he paused for a moment, trying to find the words, making general, suggestive motions over his own chest, “particular tastes in his women. You just so happen to have the right profile for the job. Again, this is not an order, Sergeant. I need to know if you’re willing to accept.”

“Yes, sir,” you tried to appear fully in control. You knew your breasts were large, but you had never been asked to use them as a weapon. There was a first time for everything, you supposed. You would do anything to help the team.

The captain loved your composure. He knew you would be perfect for the job. 

“Good. Let's brief the team.”

Price walked with you down to the meeting room at the end of the hall and found Soap, Ghost, and Gaz sitting in the desk chairs every way except the way they were designed, lounging over the furniture like big cats, melting into the various surfaces they encountered. They fixed themselves when the captain walked in. 

“Gentlemen,” Price opened, “this is our bait. Her code name is Rabbit. Rabbit, this is Soap, Ghost, and Gaz.”

You nodded politely and resumed a semi-formal rest position. 

The men had noticed you around the base but hadn’t been formally introduced. You were a desk rider, but still, you were hard to miss. The baggy military clothing had almost managed to conceal a bounty of soft curves, but your lush body persisted beneath it, and the outlines of your feminine form made heinous suggestions in the fabric. Unfortunately for them, you didn’t hang around the gym or the common area enough for them to have generated a fully accurate image of your enticing body, but they were certain it was delicious. They watched you like peckish wolves. Waiting hungrily, shifting in their seats in anticipation. For what, you weren’t sure.

“Rabbit is going undercover for us to take down Sokolov, Vladimir Makarov’s new shipping controller. He has a particular penchant for,” Price paused just long enough for anyone to understand his true meaning, “certain types of women. Rabbit fits the mold, so all she needs is the gear and the training.”

Price cut open three large cardboard boxes to reveal slinky dresses and a number of questionable garments. 

“I’ll need to try them on,” you offered, “Do you want me to get changed, Captain?”

“Sounds good. Come back in when you’re all set,” he smiled, enjoying the view as you left the room. 

Ghost crossed his arms, clearly with quite a mouthful to share and but refusing to. Gaz stared down at the knife he was playing with, bashful. But Soap would not be cowed, and as soon as you left, he said,

“Feeding her to the sharks like bait, Captain? I dinnae ken any of us was so expendable.”

“Soap,” Price warned, “the sergeant is more than capable of handling -”

“I wasnae askin’ about the lassie’s capabilities. Send her in to slit his throat with a knife in her hand, for all I care. But to send her in unguarded, unarmed? No. It’s not right,” Soap crossed his arms. 

“He’s got a point, Captain. Why take the risk of losing an operative?” Ghost spoke coldly. 

Price furrowed his brow at their short-sightedness,

“And do what, exactly? Have the Russians scurry back underground at the first hint of an assassination attempt? We’ve failed that mission three times, boys. I’ll not have this go south again.”

“I’m sure she is capable, Captain. But, is Rabbit committed to this plan?” Gaz asked. 

“Sure,” Price tried to sound reassuring, “we spoke in my office. She agreed to come down here. Besides, she’ll have you three as backup. You won’t let anything happen to her.”

Gaz did not seem convinced. All three soldiers wore a scowl on their faces, and even though Ghost’s was obscured by his mask, his body language communicated his displeasure. Price carefully ashed his cigar to renew the glowing tip, taking a long drag while they waited for you to return. 

You were back without too much of a delay, but when you walked in, your colleagues were visibly stunned. They didn’t recognize you at first. A short black dress had replaced your camouflage fatigues, showing off miles and miles of smooth, shining skin. Your thick thighs stretched the silky fabric, and your ass threatened to escape from the edge of the dress with every step you took. Your new heels clacked sharply against the cold concrete, making your legs flex and tense, showing off your well-formed musculature. You did not miss squat day very often, apparently.

But, the assets you were trying to use for this particular mission were the real stars of the show. Your heavy breasts battled against the low dip of the dress, providing a deep display of cleavage, hinting at pink perky nipples hidden just below the line of the black silk. Your tits jiggled as you struck the floor with each careful step, making the room full of men breathe a little heavier at the sight. 

Soap’s big mouth betrayed them all,

“Christ in Heaven. There you are, bonnie.”

Ghost backhanded him hard on the shoulder. Price glowered.

You had put on a little more makeup than might be socially acceptable in an office setting, making the suggestive outfit complete. Finally, as you stood at the head of the meeting table, you took out your task force regulation braid and pulled your fingers through your hair, breaking up your long waves as they spilled down your neck and back. 

You smiled,

“Well, do I look the part?”

Price coughed, inhaling too much smoke on accident. Gaz hadn’t moved since you walked in the room. He just stood there, dumbfounded, arms held at an odd angle as if frozen in time. Ghost cleared his throat to save them,

“Yes, Rabbit. You clean up very nicely, don’t you?”

“Well,” you sighed, “this is sort of the raunchiest outfit I found in the box. I was going to go with something a bit more casual, but I thought I’d better be noticeable if we’re going to nail this asshole.”

Gaz finally came out of his locked state, aghast,

“Noticeable? Sweetheart, this is more than noticeable. Goddamn.”

“You think it’s too much? I don’t really know what would get his attention,” you shrugged, looking shy as you confessed, “I don’t get asked out very often.”

“You could go out with me, lassie,” Soap edged his way closer to her, slinking around the table, “We’d have a hell of a time, so we would.”

“Don’t listen to Johnny,” Ghost stood in front of him a bit, snaking an arm around your cinched waist, “He thinks takin’ his birds to the dog races is a good date idea.”

“Well, isn’t it?” Soap protested.

Gaz grabbed your hand tenderly, examining your fingers like they were a precious work of art,

“Maybe you could come with me to Berlin next weekend, babes. There’s a killer music festival going on, and we could have a really good time. How does that sound?”

“Boys,” Price interrupted, “I’m sure she has plenty of work to finish here; can’t just be galavanting off with you muppets. In fact, why don’t you stop by my office after this mission, bunny rabbit, and we can work on your projected shipment dates together? You know, I used to be a logistics man, myself.”

Ghost rolled his eyes at the Captain,

“Please, logistics? You drove a truck back and forth on base delivering food to the canteen twenty years ago. I’ve read your file.”

The men all started talking over each other, forgetting your presence in favor of coming out on top of the dog pile. You smiled to yourself, eager to push more of their buttons. 

Slipping one skinny strap down your shoulder, you spoke through the din,

“You know, this dress can be strapless. Do you think Sokolov wants it up…” you locked eyes with Captain Price, seeing his throat swallow hard as he watched you in the silence you had created, “or down?”

The other soldiers were stunned, unable to look away as you slipped both straps off of your shoulders and tucked them into your dress. One strap was still partially visible, and Ghost slowly moved one gloved finger up your arm, tracing your skin lightly, and finished tucking it in for you. He lingered, caressing the side of your breast as he removed it. 

“You gonna be able to seduce this Russian bastard, Sergeant? Or, do you need some practice?” Price asked with a low, threatening tone. 

The whole room held its breath waiting for your answer. The four men towered over your short frame, casting shadows over you like black spells, hoping you would relinquish your control over them. All of their eyes watched as you slowly, achingly lifted a hand and traced it up Gaz’s canvas pant leg, stopping when you discovered the heavy head of his cock, hardening down toward his knee. With the back of your hand, you pet it like a skittish animal, reveling in its smoothness and warmth. Your eyes found his as they fluttered, blood rushing through his body in a panic,

“I think I could use some practice, Captain.”

You felt Gaz’s rod leap at your answer. He bent down to kiss your mouth, slanting his lips fiercely against you. 

Soap came up behind you, gripping your ass through the silk of your dress roughly,

“We’ll help you, lass. We’ll help you practice, won’t we, boys? Jesus, you smell so good,” he buried his face in your neck and sucked against your skin. 

Ghost found your other hand and held it tightly, using it to steady you from Soap and Gaz’s assault. Price moved Gaz out of the way, earning himself a glare, and peeled the dress off of you in one fell swoop, revealing the expanse of uncovered skin underneath. 

“Holy shite,” the captain breathed, whispering his lament, “Sergeant, where are your knickers?”

“I guess I forgot them, Captain,” you blushed, batting your eyes up at him, doing actual damage to his psyche.  

He didn’t have much time to savor the moment though because Ghost was shoving him out of the way to pick you up by the thighs to lay you on the table. The giant knelt between your legs, pulling you by the knees until your ass was hanging off of the low wooden planks. He lifted his mask just enough for you to see him lick his lips over sharp, white teeth before feasting on your wet folds, letting the cloth of the balaclava hide most of his efforts. 

Ghost created a soothing, yet electrically wet warmth in your core which made you keen loudly, only to be muffled by Price’s smoky kiss. You could taste the burned tobacco on his tongue and your skin was scraped by his thick mustache. 

Gaz’s voice got your attention. He had freed his cock from his pants and started to stroke it, standing by your side and playing with your breasts with his free hand as Price savaged your mouth. He tugged on your nipple and told you,

“You know, Rabbit, you’re going to have to really put yourself out there tomorrow. Show him these gorgeous tits of yours. Make him think you’re hungry for his cock,” Gaz rubbed his head, hard and hungry for you, “Can you do that? Let us see how good you can be, princess. We need you to ace this mission”

You felt Ghost dip his hard cock between your pussy lips, distracting you from Price’s tongue in your mouth. You broke the kiss and looked up at Ghost, dazed, into his masked face,

“I promise, sir. I’ll be good,” you looked around at all four of the men, reaching out to grab Soap’s cock that he was stroking for you, “Will you show me how?”

You didn’t give Soap time to answer. The Scot gasped as you devoured him, sucking him down into your throat, making yourself gag as he fucked your throat in and out in long thrusts. He tangled his fingers in your hair. Ghost matched his rhythm below you, pounding his cock into your wet hole. You thought you could feel something on his dick. Was he pierced? You could see your slick gleam on his lips and chin where his mask was still askew. 

“Yeah,” Ghost smiled haughtily, “you like those piercings, don’tcha baby?”

You didn’t have a chance to respond. Price pulled your head away from Soap’s dick, kissing your mouth lewdly again before giving you an order,

“Open your mouth wide for me, love.”

You obeyed. Then, he spit onto your tongue, warm and bubbling, before shoving your face down onto his own fat rod. It made your lips burn with its cruel girth, even though it felt relatively soft, and you thought fleetingly that there was no way your poor little cunt was going to be able to take him, Ghost was big enough to be filling, but the captain was carrying around a true weapon. 

He pulled your head off of him roughly, watching as the strings of drool connected your tongue to his cockhead, growling in short, lustful breaths. 

“Alright, boys. Make sure she’s good and ready for me. You know the drill,” Price barked, and then he was gone. 

The drill? You looked for him, confused, and only found Gaz, who was now slapping his long dick on your cheek, knocking for entrance. He let you take his head into your mouth, having a much easier time than you did with your captain. You bobbed your head up and down dutifully, not realizing just how long his cock was until he tried to force it into your throat. He held you down for a moment, moaning shamelessly, before releasing you to let you breathe. 

“You alright, babes?” He laughed.

You nodded, moaning. Ghost took himself out of your wetness and pulled you off of the table. Soap hopped up to lay where you were, and you moved to ride him, making sure to get right to the edge with him to let Ghost back in. You’d never taken two men at once, much less four, but there was a first time for anything, and you were a quick learner. 

Spearing yourself onto Soap felt like someone had created a warm, custom, living dildo just for you. He was a perfect fit, and you both cried out in pleasure from the sensation. Ghost slapped your ass, hard, and you screamed, clenching around Soap’s cock. Soap moaned darkly. 

“Keep suckin’ that big cock, baby. Need to teach you how to multitask,” Ghost threatened as he bent to eat your asshole, wiggling his tongue into the tight rim to gain entrance.

He started to fuck you with it, his long wet muscle moving in and out as Soap thrust himself up into you, hitting your g-spot every single time like magic. You took Gaz back into your mouth and tried your best to take him deeper into your throat. Every time you did, you would gag, and your muscles would involuntarily clench, and the whole room would moan. You started to come, feeling yourself flood around Soap, whose mouth had latched onto one of your nipples, suckling like he was trying to feed from you. 

You could see Price out of the corner of your eye. He had lit another cigar and was smoking it, stroking himself, still not at his full capacity. You were scared of him. He looked like some sort of demon, breathing fire, as big around as your forearm. He wasn’t as long as Gaz, nor as delightfully curved as Soap, but he made your legs shake without even touching you. When he did touch you, rising from his chair when he wanted to fondle you, pinching a nipple, pulling your hair, forcing your head down on Gaz, it lit you up like you were kerosene and he was the match. 

Suddenly, Ghost’s tongue was gone, only to be replaced by his heavy head. He was going to fuck your ass, and there was nothing you could say to stop him. You’d only done anal once or twice before, and you knew it might hurt. He went so slowly that you could feel each and every piercing as he popped them into you, one by one. Then, as he pulled back out, you felt them pop as each one went through you again, raking himself in and out gently, as careful with you as he could be. When you were more pliant, he began to throw his weight into each thrust, and Soap started to groan below you from the sensation. 

“Don’t you fuckin’ dare, Johnny boy,” Price threatened, his voice full of stern warning. 

You weren’t sure what he was warning him about until Soap pulled his cock out of you and came all over your stomach, Ghost’s thrusts making the fluid smear between you two, rubbing your bodies together. Ghost pulled out next, and you felt his hot, thick ropes spray onto your ass cheeks, melting down your thighs. 

Gaz abandoned your mouth and took over for Soap, feeding himself inch by inch until he found your end, leaving some of his cock out in the cold. He fucked you faster than the others, not caring to move out of the way as Soap rolled off of the table, whining like a whore the whole time. 

Captain Price came around to your face, holding your chin in his hand, looking down at you without pity,

“Garrick’s got a long cock, don’t he, love? You’re being so good for my men, such a good girl. Sweet little slut, hm? You’re going to do so well on this mission. Those areholes won’t know what hit ‘em.”

He grabbed your hair fiercely, hurting your scalp, forcing you to turn and look back at Gaz. Price took a long puff from his cigar, blowing it past your face, 

“Baby, he could fuck you for a hundred years. He’s not gonna come until you scream his name.”

You heard Gaz moan louder at Price’s suggestion, so you did. You screamed for him over and over, not caring who might have heard you, begging for him to come in you. 

“He’s not allowed to come in you, love,” Price kissed your open panting mouth, “But, don’t worry. It’s about to be my turn, and you’ll be feeling my fuckin’ come drip out of your cunt all night long.”

Price’s voice made your blood run cold with fear. He wasn’t making threats. Those were clearly promises. Predictions of the future. His cock was tucked back into the band of his pants, but it lay in wait there like a serpent, eager to strike.

Your heart pounded in your chest as Gaz pulled his long shaft all the way out of you, his come shooting onto your lips and ass, feeling him use his hand to rub it into your skin, making you sticky. Your captain gave him a warning look, and you realized they had done this sort of thing before. Perhaps many times before. As you watched Soap and Ghost comfort each other, breathing close together, touching themselves, you wondered if they ever fucked each other as well. Picturing the four of them rutting into each other made you hungry, deep in your belly, starving to witness such an act. 

Finally, it was your captain’s turn. The look in his eyes made you tremble. You knew he wouldn’t be cruel, not on purpose anyway. He wasn’t a heartless man, but he wasn’t one to hold himself back from what he wanted either. You knew that he would fuck you the way he wanted to, as hard as he wanted to, no matter how much complaining you might do about how his cock would stretch you out - even to the point of pain. 

“On your back, love. Legs up. Spread that pussy open for me,” he commanded. 

You did as he told you, opening yourself up shamelessly, letting your folds spread wide. 

He walked around the table to gaze upon your form, staring at your pink flesh like it was a hot meal, and he was starving. He moaned, rubbing his hand across your sticky mons, 

“Mm, that’s my pretty little Rabbit. Now…” he paused for effect, sinking three fingers into your hole roughly but ever so slowly, twisting his arm as he did, corkscrewing his knuckles into you, “...I want you to understand that there’s a reason I’m last in line, love.”

You cried out from the pressure of his huge hand. It felt like you were going to tear. Then, after a few hard thrusts, he released you. The emptiness you felt was heartbreaking. You looked for him, pleading with your eyes for him to return to you. He pulled his cock free from his waistband, unable to connect his finger to his thumb as he wrapped around it. You whined involuntarily, something animal in you recognizing its fate. 

“Shh, baby, I know,” he drug out his voice, “I know…”

He positioned the heavy shaft on top of your body, measuring himself from base to tip, reaching your navel. As he slapped it against you, it made a loud thudding noise, slamming into your muscles like a fist. Price was so heavy. You’d never even imagined a man could feel like he was pure, warm, thick marble. Your pussy seemed to understand the panic you were feeling, flooding itself, preparing for the upcoming invasion. 

“I’m so fuckin’ eager for you, love,” he slapped you again, quick taps right to your swollen clit.

Then, he put his head inside of you, squeezing himself in. He left it inside of you and started to pump himself with his hand. Between the vibration from his fist and the fact that it felt like you were sitting on the end of a steel bat, you couldn’t hold back your keening, loud and high-pitched. 

Price began the steady, slow march forward, swelling harder and harder by the moment, making your walls feel like they might break. It seemed as if all the blood in your body was rushing down your belly and up your legs, hurrying to your core. 

Your eye were wild, full of your fear, tears forming at the corners of your eyes,

“I can’t, please! I can’t. It’s too big, fuck…”

Price didn’t stop. He just kept feeding himself in and pulling himself back out, wetting his cock’s skin with your soaking hole. 

“You can, and you will, love,” the captain growled, “Now, shut that pretty mouth and take it.”

Your cheeks were wet and your eyes burned, he was so deep within you that it felt like he was thrusting into your throat. You couldn’t breathe.

Suddenly, Soap grabbed your hand, kissing your palm, using his tongue to lick your skin,

“It’s alright, bonnie. I’m here, lass. Breathe with me, lass.”

He bent down to kiss you, but he didn’t quite connect, letting his lips graze yours featherlight. Soap breathed in and breathed out in steady, measured beats. You felt yourself begin to relax. It had such an immediate effect that you heard Price groan, able to slip himself a bit deeper than he had done. 

It was like a chain reaction, the more relaxed you became, breathing with Soap, feeling him suck and lick your nipples softly, the more Price was able to squeeze himself in. 

Finally, you felt his hair at the base of his cock, thick and curled, and as he sighed, he settled inside of you, impossibly pressing against your whole body, making a clear outline of himself in your lower belly. He rubbed it, almost fondly, and you felt every inch of him throb against your walls, his head bullying your womb.

You cried out again from the strain. Ghost and Gaz joined Soap. Gaz began to suckle from your breast on your left side, fondling himself as he did so, getting hard again. Ghost was at your head on the end of the table, and he bent to kiss you, upside down, his tongue running all the way down your throat, long and slippery against your own. 

He pulled away, petting your cheek as Price began to grind himself into you,

“You alright, Rabbit? You enjoying your captain’s cock, hm?”

“Mm hm,” you whispered, whimpering through your tears.

Ghost smiled, and his straight, white teeth looked menacing as he did, sharp, wolf-like,

“I know you are, babe. You’re doing so well. Look at him. You can see him inside of your cunt.”

He lifted your head by your hair, showing you the grotesque shadow of Price’s heavy rod as it shoved itself into you. You reached your hands down to it, feeling it through your skin. It was so unique. His size wasn’t like anything you’d ever experienced, and your body was sending confused signals of passion, your orgasms coming in shattered, broken waves. Feeling incomplete. Too powerful, and yet drawn out like the last note of a symphony. 

As you touched him from the outside, Price moaned aloud for the first time. It shocked you. You looked up at him, managing to meet his eyes.

“Fuck,” you moaned, “You feel so good inside of me, Captain.”

“Mm, yeah?” He replied, using his hands to press yours down onto his cock, making you gasp, “You like it, baby? I’m gonna make sure you never want anybody else.” 

Price reached down and grabbed you by the throat, scaring away Soap and Gaz. He lifted you up, making his dick fit inside of you that much tighter with the change of angle. Then, he began the true performance. He thrust himself in with fast, punishing strokes, slamming himself into you. You were sure you would bruise, and you felt dizzy, almost like you’d pass out. 

Soap was at your side again, holding your hair away from your face,

“Look at you, lassie. Such a good girl for your captain. Takin’ that cock so damn well. Can’t wait to be back inside you, girl.”

He kissed your cheek, palm massaging his dick which was back to full mast, eager again. 

“Alright, Johnny,” Price grinned, “Since you asked so nicely.”

Without any strain whatsoever, Price lifted you up by your hips and held you in the air as he fucked you, bringing you around the table so that Soap could position himself at your asshole. Ghost’s earlier efforts had made it ready for him, and you could very acutely feel how much he was throbbing to be inside of you, pulsing as he fit against Price. 

“Ungh, fuck, lass,” Soap groaned as he began to thrust into you, pistoning with the captain, “He’s got you so tight for me.”

“Yeah? It feels so good. Mmm…” you whimpered, feeling more full than you’d ever been. 

Johnny was holding your breasts as Price lifted you up, brutalizing your pussy. Every thrust felt like an electric pulse, making you cock-drunk and mindlessly pliant. 

They worked in tandem for what felt like eons, pistoning in and out with each other. Eventually, after he had felt you come, Soap addressed his captain directly,

“Sir, I’m…please, sir, can I?”

“Can you what, soldier?” Price grunted through gritted teeth, testing his sergeant.

“Can I come, sir? Please, Cap…”

“Yeah, Johnny. C’mon, mate. Let her feel it.”

“F-fuck! Fuck…” Soap groaned, pushing himself flush against your asshole, pumping his come into you. 

He caught his breath while he was still in you, kissing the nape of your neck, and then he pulled away slowly. He helped Gaz replace him, holding your ass wide apart so his comrade could position himself inside. And just when you thought your poor pussy would have room to breathe, Gaz’s incredibly long shaft was piercing your hole again. 

You felt him sigh, his breath against your neck. He took over holding you up, and Price praised him,

“That’s it, Garrick. She’s all yours. Take it.”

Gaz reacted to his words in a way that made you rethink their entire dynamic. Then, you remembered how he had come when you said his name. He seemed to get harder and harder the more Price praised him, and you wanted to give him that same validation. 

“Gaz,” you whispered, leaning your head back to rest on his shoulder, “It’s so big, baby. It’s like I can feel you in my throat. Oh, Gaz. Gaz!”

“Mm,” Price put his mouth to your neck, groaning, “That’s it, love. Tell him how much you like that long cock.”

“So much, Gaz. It’s so good,” you added. 

Then, Price took his left hand and wrapped it around the back of Gaz’s neck in a moment of surprising intimacy. As Price kissed the front of your throat, Gaz kissed your shoulder and nape. You felt like a peeled fruit being shared between them, a ripped rind, your juicy flesh being split in two; two halves of a ripe orange. 

Gaz lasted longer than Soap had when he fucked your ass, but Price’s attention seemed to spur him on. His movements were slippery, and you could feel the remnants of Soap’s come frothing around your entrance, easing his efforts.

“Captain,” Gaz whined, desperate for more of that approval. 

“C’mon, Kyle. She’s ready for you. Good lad.”

The use of his first name made Gaz thrust up into you with a feverish pace. He cried out as he came, hard, into you. Feeling him fall back out of you made you imagine the tendrils of a giant kraken, seeming to travel forever just to remove himself from your body, slithering out of you with a terrible squelching noise. 

Gaz let Price hold you again, and you turned, expecting Ghost. Price laughed at you, chuckling softly,

“Missing your masked man already?”

You looked at Price, feeling raw and used, waiting for an explanation,

“He’s a little…preoccupied.”

Price laid you back on the table, letting you turn your head to see Ghost, buried in Soap’s asshole up to the hilt, furiously jacking him off, slamming into him a little too roughly for your liking. It was violent, but Soap seemed to be enjoying himself beyond measure. 

Your pussy, though, disagreed with your assessment, clenching around Price’s cock while you watched Simon abuse his friend’s hole. 

“Mm,” the captain moaned, feeling your muscles react, “You like that, love? You wanna be fucked rough like that?”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer. Price wrapped your legs beneath his chest in a full mating press and wrecked you, pounding into your body like a giant fist. You felt your bones shudder beneath his behemoth form. Just when you thought you might puke from how overstimulated you were, you felt him pause. Then, your pussy felt like it was leaking, and it was. Price’s come just kept milking its way out of you, his cock pulsing inside, making your walls throb. 

When he finished, he kissed you on the mouth, almost lovingly, reverently. He started to slide out of you, being extremely careful, and you’d never felt so empty in your entire life. It was as if you’d never be full again. You found yourself whining, whimpering for Price to return. 

“That’s right, pretty girl,” Price smiled, “Never gonna want anybody else, are ya?”

You smiled, shocked and in considerable discomfort. Gaz scooped you up off of the table, cradling you, sitting down with you in his lap in a large chair. He reached down for some water and handed it to you, helping you recover. 

Price was standing with his hands on his hips, panting from his exertion. Ghost and Soap were connected like two hounds, locked together, the Scot cock warming his tall lover, groaning on every exhale. 

“Well, what do you think, lads? Do we have a winner?” Price asked.

“Yeah, we fucking do, Cap,” Gaz pet your head, moving your sweaty hair out of your eyes. 

“Fuck yeah, mate,” Ghost growled, pawing at Johnny again, rabid for him. 

“Hear that, bonnie?” Soap managed to ask, still moaning in little breaths as he was being speared by Ghost, “Got  yourself a new permanent assignment.”

Price walked over to you, grabbing you by the face and kissing you once more,

“You belong to us now, love. Perfect little slut.”

AO3 Link

#call of duty fanfic #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod #call of duty #tf 141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #tf 141 #141 x reader #call of duty mwii #x female reader #x fem!reader #captain john price #johnny soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #the gang's all here

[smutstationchoochoo]

Desperate

COD Men x FemReader

Hear me out: a sex pollen fic where reader isn’t affected but he is and he is gone.

Word count: ~3.6k

A/N: It’s just the poorly written sex pollen drabble of my dreams, it’s fuck or die lads. Insert your favorite COD man here. Please forgive me for any spelling/grammar mistakes and my complete lack of knowledge regarding military things, all I know is that these men are hot and I love them.

Warnings: sex pollen, unprotected PIV (wrap it up), overstimulation, dubious consent (consent is sexy folks)

Banner credit: @cafekitsune

You all had been briefed at 0200. The flight to Berlin left at 0300 where the team would be infiltrating a terrorist hideout, a suspected manufacturing site for a new chemical agent. You were told that as long as you didn’t ingest it, you would be fine.

The fact that it had been made airborne was not in the fucking briefing.

The team had been split into pairs, you and he took the North side of the suspected warehouse. The size of it should have tipped you all off. Everything was running smoothly until 3 combatants had come from the door at the end of the corridor. He called for cover and ran ahead. You dropped two before he even got a stride in. The other he disarmed in seconds and then with a deafening crack, both men slammed through a door and into the resulting room. A brief struggle then silence. You heard him start to call the ok, his voice in the comm sounding clearer than earlier, then a noise, a pop, and the sound of air. You froze, watching a gas spill from the open door and dissipate immediately. Just when you started moving again, a growling, “Don’t,” tore through the comm. Then, the sound of ripping Velcro and something hard (his helmet you realized with a sickening drop) hitting the concrete floor echoed out to you. Soft murmurs that grew into angry outbursts of fuck fuck fuck transformed into one that became a groan of what sounded like complete and utter pain. You didn’t even have to think, the severity of the situation settled in. “It’s a gas,” you barked into the comms, “Northside hit, need medevac in 30, going dark.” You waited for confirmation, seconds after getting it and receiving news that the warehouse was almost cleared, you went to find him.

You knew what it did, you all did. Jokes had been made, smirks shared, but you all knew how bad it was. You weren’t even close to prepared. He was sitting against the far wall or rather pressed into it using it to keep his now shaking frame upright, gear strewn around the room, combatant on your immediate left with a mask (his mask, the masks you all were wearing just in fucking case) gripped in a dead hand, an empty canister mockingly sitting in the middle of the room. 

You gripped the combatant by his legs and dragged him to the hall, before slamming the door shut upon reentry and grabbing a near chair to jam the door. You immediately began stripping yourself of your outer tactical gear until you both matched in only your boots, pants, and base shirts and then you turned your attention to him. Now kneeling by his side you took him in, looking for any other injuries noting nothing serious. That almost made you laugh with relief until you saw the front of his pants and him frantically palming the growing outline. You swallowed and quickly looked at his face shocked back to the reality of the current situation. The usually stoic, always larger than life, incredibly strong man in front of you was reduced to tears dripping from his now blown and hazy eyes, falling down flushed cheeks and landing on the front of his shirt that clung to his hyperventilating chest. You knew he had been shot, stabbed often, and left for dead a time or two, but this…

Shiny and new neurotoxin, you remembered the brief, attacks the nervous system, causing the mark to feel intense arousal and as if they have been lit on fire, specially formulated not only to cause pain but a complete and utter breakdown of will as victims often experience hallucinations and loss of self. If left in the system, it raises the core temperature until convulsions set in, and then heart attack occurs. Do not touch it.

No one had to ask how it was worked out of the system. Then again, they all believed they were too smart to touch the shit. Couldn’t do much about breathing it in when your mask was ripped from your face though.

  Your hand pressed to his slick forehead now radiating heat, and feeling as if it could burn you like an open flame. At the touch of your blessedly cool hand, he hissed a low fuck through his gritted teeth, keening into your touch. You swallowed, hand tilting his cheek to look up at you when you asked, “Can I help?”  His hair was sticking up at all angles from the helmet being hastily pulled from his head, and he looked up at you and gave one weak nod, “Please.”

Upon looking at the desperation pooling in those dark eyes (those eyes you often were caught staring at) any small reservations evaporated from your body under his burning gaze. You swiftly reached out, mercifully helping him escape from the now too-tight pants, the bite of his zipper. The moment your skin brushed against the head of him he was bucking up against it. You had to reach the other hand out to steady yourself against his shoulder, another touch that jutted his hips and had him twitching into your grip.

“Is- is this helping?” you croaked out, struggling to swallow, struggling to contain the wave of arousal that was threatening to course through you. He nodded, chin slack against his chest as he watched your hand work against him, moving up and down against the veins seemingly trying to break through his skin. No thoughts went through his mind other than the knowledge that you were jerking him off and that it felt so good that he could cry in relief. But then something shuddered within him, something loud and fast like a wildfire, burning just as much, and hot thick ropes of cum spilled over your hand. He couldn’t even cry out, it happened so fast. His breath was coming out in loud pants, when a new thought, the thought that he had just come in maybe thirty seconds flashed through his mind but it was quickly replaced with the horrible realization that the feeling of being on fire wasn’t going away. It was getting worse, out of control, containment measures failed. At this, he let out a sob as his hips moved of their own volition into your still soothing grip. It wasn’t enough, he knew, you knew, it wasn’t enough.

 You stood, and he whimpered at the loss of your touch but all sound stopped in his throat when he watched you decisively unzip your pants and pull them down to your ankles underwear included, kicking off a boot, and one pant leg. When you straddled his lap he desperately pulled you down onto him, your exposed core grinding down where he wanted you, where he fucking needed you, that’s when he began to talk. Begging you to help him, saying that he’s sorry over and over, that he needs your help, incoherent babbling from a breaking mind, please it hurts so bad, I-I don’t, I can’t- fuck, I need you... All cool, calm, collectedness burnt to fucking ash. Just a man reduced to pure longing and want. A longing and want that might be what was threatening to kill him, not the toxin, just the build up over the days, weeks, months he had been around you threatening to crush him. He almost wants to die, this was never how it was supposed to be. He wanted it to be good for you, you deserve that, you deserve better, he could have given you better-

But now what was he? A heaving chest under a sweat soaked shirt beneath eyes that watch you like some feral animal. Hands wanting to claw at the clothing now so heavy, hot, and itchy against his burning skin, but instead were gripping onto your hips like it’s going to save him from burning to a crisp. The broken moans tearing their way from his throat when you line up his painfully hard cock to your entrance makes you throb, and then his choking cry as you slide down on him punches the air from your chest.

“Does this feel ok?” you panted out after a moment, struggling, trying not to drown in the pleasure of him stretching you, filling you. He couldn’t form the words, couldn’t even nod. His forehead falling to your shoulder in utter relief, mouth dropped open as he repeats your name over and over like an apology, a thanks, a goddamned prayer. How all he can do is sit there on the floor of some warehouse, back against a wall, the only thing resembling his usual strength is that ironclad hold he has on your hips as he helps you drag yourself up, then, accompanied by the tortuously obscene sounds of your wetness, back down. Brokenly pleading with you not to stop, don’t stop, fuck p-please don’t stop. You feel like molten heaven against his cock, your moans like angels (or devils, he’s too far gone to care at this point) singing through the blood rushing in his ears. One of your hands again steadies yourself on his shoulder, the other steadying him, an anchor point, with your achingly gentle hold on the nape of his damp neck (so gentle that it breaks his fucking heart, he wanted to give you more, you deserved more) as you ride him. Your hips rock once more, twice more, before his body seizes up with electricity that ricochets up his spinal cord and reverberates through his skull. His fingers dig into the soft skin of your hips, teeth grinding and eyes slamming shut, as he releases inside of you with a shattered cry. The sound of you gasping, now clutching, raking your fingers into him, has his hips continuing their rutting up into you, pushing his cum as deep as he can within your walls.

He stills for 10 seconds at most, panting breaths thunderous between you two, before pulling you into his chest, his hips slamming up into you, hard and hot as if he didn’t just fuck you until he could see every neuron firing behind his eyes. His hot open mouth finds your shocked one in a perfectly surprised “o,” more apologies pushing from his lungs and into yours between loud wet kisses as he listens (is blessed with thank you God) to you beginning to come apart. You couldn’t help it, as you ground down into his thrusts, even though you knew the threatening climax was going to be terrifying. Your breathing was ragged now as well, the air becoming harder and harder to drag into your lungs in between you cursing and moaning, and then- fucking hell- you’re at the precipice. Before you can even utter a syllable you are being flung over the edge. The pleasure rips through you, waves breaking against the rocky shore, with such intensity that it hurts, causing you to dig your nails into his skin, and bright spots to dance behind your closed eyes while the distant feeling of wetness registers from between you two. He explodes again with a gasp, feels you clench around him like a vice, his name, his real name, forcing its way from inside you and into his mouth with every pulse and it tastes so so good that he can’t stop, he never wants to stop, just filling you up until it drips from you, filling you with him because you’re his, his. Even when you both whimper and shudder with overstimulation, his arms shaking in their grip around you, he can only press his forehead to yours, rolling it desperately, as he begs for your forgiveness. I can’t stop, it won’t stop, I’ll make it good, please next time I’ll make it good.

“It is good,” you whisper to him with hitched breath from each thrust, trying to reassure him, “It’s ok, it’s ok.” You don’t know if he can hear you, his eyes are wild and don’t seem to even register that you are actually on top of him, that he’s inside of you, that he has made you yell out his name over and over and over. You don’t think he even knows what he is saying. Next time.

 His own voice comes to him from somewhere far away, through the flames licking at his mind, please- fuckin’ hell please, just a little more- I just need one more, I need you, please don’t stop, I don’t want to stop nearly unrecognizable as he comes inside you again and again and again.

It isn’t until the medevac came and he was sedated that what just happened began to sink in. For a week, a fucking week, he’s in critical condition. No one talks about it, at least not in the way you all did before this. You saved him, you’re told. You don’t want to think about it, if you think about it then you think about how good it felt, how fucked it is that it felt good, and how everything is gone. If you think about all he said, you’d overthink, give meaning where there was none. He probably won’t be able to look at you anymore. You went to see him that first day. You sat next to him for mere minutes before bolting, the fear of him waking up and looking at you with disgust, telling you to get out in that icy voice you knew so well, sent you running straight to the mats to train until you wanted to scream. That’s all you did now, and that was where you decided you would stay until you died. That is until someone came and found you, told you he was awake, and that he had asked for you. The whole walk to the infirmary had adrenaline coursing through you, you wanted to run, to fight, to freeze right there in the hall and never move another fucking muscle. The thought of losing him, him being there but not wanting to be near you anymore made you feel sick. It had been so long, so long of repressing those feelings that flared in your chest when he smiled at you during sparring, the feeling of him seated next to you on a flight, his eyes catching yours just so you could stay with him. Well, you thought with dripping ire, that had literally and figuratively been fucked now hadn’t it?  

You knocked, heard his gruff voice, and entered. You stopped dead in your tracks three steps into the room after mistakenly looking up and finding him staring at you from where he sat on the edge of the bed, already dressed, looking like he was about to head out on another call. You were desperately trying not to shake but your hands gave you away. You could take on a man twice your size without batting an eye but this?- you were terrified.

The moment you walked into the room, all his time that morning when he first woke thinking about what he would say to you, how he could face you, was knocked from his mind. You had saved his life. He never wanted that. He wanted to give it to you, it was yours after all. He didn’t know when it had become yours, every single part of him, but if he had to wager a guess it was the moment he found you in his life. And it might all be ruined.

The memories had started coming to him immediately after waking up, almost more clear and real now than in the moment.  It jolted him awake so hard that the attending ran into the room for fear that his hammering heart had in fact given out. Once his breathing had calmed a little, he tried to sift through the fog. His recall of the smell of you, the arousal dripping from between your legs, mixed with your sweat and the familiar scent of your grapefruit and ginger shampoo, nearly pulled a groan from his chest. The soft touch of your hands, cool and strong against the fire that spread through his blood, had brought him back. The feeling of you breaking, the soft whines, the way you said his name… the things he had said, he couldn’t just shut the fuck up could he?

He had to bring his hands up to cover his eyes, willing the images to go away, just for a moment, please, he just needed some time, if only he had time- next time. Next time, he had told you. A desperate promise, a reassurance, trying to tell you that it wasn’t just the chemical coursing through him, it wasn’t just his hijacked nervous system. Did she know? Did she understand? That’s when he asked for you, without thinking, just wanting to see you, to explain. He had never been good with words unless it was biting sarcasm across comms or coolly delivering ultimatums in an interrogation. Then he remembered, the thing that sent his heart barreling through his chest for the second time, the machine next to him screaming. It is good, you had said, it’s ok, it’s ok, you had whispered.  

He ripped the monitors off his chest, ignoring the doctor's protestations, found the clothes that had been brought in for him and got dressed. Now that you were standing here before him he was unsure. You looked scared, and he could count on one hand all the times he had seen you in such a state.

His staring was unnerving, more unnerving than if he had shouted, yelled, grabbed you, anything but this, this was fucking torture. You had to leave, just get off base, go somewhere, anywhere but here- the sudden sound of your name shook you from the reverie. The tone had your eyes finding his immediately.

He stayed seated, scared that if he stood, if he made his way to you, you would run, and you both knew that you were much quicker than him. If you ran, if you left, he would never catch up.  Only when his knuckles began to ache did he realize how tightly he was gripping the edge of the mattress in an effort to keep himself there. It was hard to look at you and not remember the way you had looked when you pressed your hand to his forehead, when you had thrown your head back in pleasure, when you had grabbed his face when he was too exhausted to continue but thankfully no longer felt like he was burning alive. It was hard to remember and not stride across the room and hold you. He took a breath and forced his shoulders to relax in a way that he had done so many times before.

“I-,” he started, his voice cutting through the room, his normal voice, the one you recognized as him and it set you slightly at ease from sheer familiarity, “I’m so sorry.” Now he had to turn his eyes downcast.

“What?” Your response, the shock in your voice, forced him to look at you again. Your hands itched at your sides, confusion rippling across your face.

His eyes narrowed, he knew you so well. Always blaming yourself. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, “I’m sorry that happened, I’m sorry you were put in that position,” the word choice made him nearly cringe. He continued, “I never-I didn’t want it to happen that way.”

Your brain jolted, standing there in shocked silence, his words thundering through your ears accompanied by the pleading of next time.

He pressed on, desperately trying, “I know you, you’re going to think this was your fault. It wasn’t. There was nothing either of us could do, thank you for your, uh, help. Just- fuck, please just say some-,”

Shock still swept through you, the words escaped your mouth before you could think, “Did you mean it?” You figured by the way he leaned back that he knew what you were talking about. Then he held out a hand, palm up, an offering. Before you knew it, you had crossed the room, putting your hand in his and letting it gently pull you between his legs. His giant frame meant even sitting on the gurney that his gaze was level with yours, and those eyes searched your own when one word sounded through the room.

“Yes.”

This word broke you. One fucking word, one word that answered every glance between you two, every smile shared, a word you brokenly whispered into the night when you had a hand between your legs thinking about him knowing you shouldn’t. You hadn’t cried all week, but now the giant tears rolling down your cheeks felt like a release. When his free hand, warm and rough, swiped them away you couldn’t help leaning into it, just as he had done. All tension, all fear, dissipated from the room. That hand continued to just below your ear, cupping your neck, and gently pulling you forward to press his head against yours, eyes shutting, just resting there against each other in the moment.

“What the fuck are we gonna do?” you sighed.

You could feel the smirk that you knew was slipping across his mouth.

“Well, I did say next time.”

This time when you rode him with the small bed creaking beneath the movements, he stopped you any time you tried to speed up (it was your turn to beg and plead), keeping you at a languid torturous pace. That way the bastard had all the time in the world to whisper into your mouth, letting you taste each word, all the things he would do to you next time and all the times after that.

Thank you so much for reading, please let me know what you think! :)

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod x reader #female reader #codmw2 smut #smut #smutty #smut fanfiction #smut fic #captain john price #simon ghost riley #johnny soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #alex keller #alejandro vargas #rodolfo rudy parra #keegan russ #Kim Horangi Hong-jin #ghost x reader #könig #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #john price x you #konig x reader #konig x you #captain john price smut #sex pollen

[whateveriwant]

I just read your pregnant wife with 141 but that got me thinking. What about horny pregnant wife with 141

Feel free to ignore this if you feel uncomfortable writing it 

-🍱 (if it’s not taken)

I haven't written smut in ages so forgive me if I'm a little rusty. 18+ only pls and thx (vaginal sex, cunnilingus)

Soap

Hooo boy! Alrighty, here we go

So for starters, that man is PENT UP. Like seriously, he's so backed up, he thinks he can feel it all the way to his esophagus

Since you first got pregnant, it's been nothing but morning sickness, aches and pains, and a total and utter lack of desire on your part

Trust him, he's tried taking care of himself in the meantime, but it's never really gotten the job done since it wasn't with you

But once you enter your second trimester and the desire has come back, it takes everything in him not to ravage you the moment you give him the green light

Why? Well, truth be told, he's scared about potentially hurting you or the baby

You know how he can get in the sack. What if he dents the wee bairn’s poor head? He's knocking (more like pounding) right on the little one’s door after all

You have to assure him that he's not going to hurt you or the baby (and please, never refer to your cervix as a door again)

So he'll start slow and gentle at first, not wanting to be too harsh, but it won't take much to get him back to fucking you hard and rough like you're used to

He's got your knees up by your chest (or, as close as they can get) while he’s drilling into you from above, snarling like an animal

When he finally finishes, it's loudddd, slamming the headboard against the wall, and he pushes his hips as far forward as they'll go while he empties four months worth of cum inside you

Ghost

I'm so sorry to have to be the one to inform you, but you're not getting that man's cock while you're pregnant

It's not because he's overly rough when you make love normally; it's just that he's not willing to take any chances when you're in such a delicate state

However, the man is inherently a giver, so with just enough whining and begging and pleading from you, he'll oblige you to some degree

He'll stick mostly to his fingers or his mouth, maybe a toy or two if you're really needy, but he's generally going to rely solely on his own skill to get you where you want to be

He'll have you recline against a mountain of pillows while he settles himself between your legs, his arms looping around your hips to hold you still for him while he works

But he doesn't just dive right in, oh no siree. The man loves to tease you – kissing your thighs, the inside of your knee, the bottom of your belly first

He'll turn you into a pathetic little thing squirming desperately for his touch, before finally granting you mercy by giving you his tongue

He'll make you cum so hard with just his mouth alone that you'll temporarily lose all thought of that gorgeous dick of his

But afterwards, if you want to return the favor, you certainly won't hear him complaining about it

Oh but trust that the moment the doctor gives the okay after you’ve given birth, he's gonna be all over you, making sure you walk funny the next morning (and the following week after that)

Gaz

Like the other two, Gaz is concerned with potentially putting you and the baby in a dangerous position

But the man is a sucker for your puppy dog eyes, so it doesn't take much convincing to get him to take you to bed

But he still wants to be safe about it, so he researches the best positions for couples to have sex while pregnant

That's how you find yourself in his lap, naked back to his chest, as he sits in one of the chairs he dragged in from the dining room

You're bouncing on his dick, hands braced on his thighs, ass smacking off the hard plane of his lower stomach as you lift up and down

His hands on your hips are more of a placeholder than a guide as he lets you set the pace, just sitting back while you take what you need from him

It doesn't even matter if he cums or not, that's honestly the farthest thing from his mind. All he cares about is making sure you're satisfied in the end

Need him to snake his hand forward, tracing the curve of your belly down, until he's circling your clit in fast, tight motions? Gladly, love.

Your thighs may burn and your eyes may water, but there's something about this position that makes him hit so deep that it leaves you gasping for more

Ultimately, your orgasm will trigger his own (nothing gets him there faster than the sound of you cumming), and afterwards he'll help you into the bath where he'll clean and massage your aching muscles better

Price

Unlike the other three men, Price is eager to fuck you the moment you show even the smallest inkling of want

What's that? His poor baby needs him to fuck her right now? Say no more, sweetheart. Hubby's come to the rescue

That man is dicking you down anytime, anywhere he can

Just got done shopping? He'll find a deserted road to pull over on. Just stepped into the shower? Might as well kills two birds with one stone

Really, it becomes a challenge to find where in your house he hasn't had you in these last few months. The kitchen, the garage, the back porch. You name it, he's done it (multiple times, in fact)

But his favorite – oh boy, his favorite without a shadow of a doubt – is when he takes you in front of your bedroom’s full length mirror

He'll hold you up from behind, standing you both on your feet, and just watch as he fucks you nice and slow

Seeing it in profile is fun when he wants to watch his dick slide in and out of you, but he's especially fond of having you directly face the mirror

There's just something about getting to watch you – that pretty face, those juicy tits, that fucking delectable rounded belly – that makes him blow his load faster than a damn rocket launch

With the number of times he's had you like this, you swear, that man of yours is trying to knock you up a second time (But shhhh. Quiet now. Don't go giving him any bright ideas, sweetheart.)

#wiw asks #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader #female reader #john mactavish #simon riley #kyle garrick #john price #tf 141 x reader #task force 141 x reader #cod x reader #cod mw3 #call of duty #modern warfare 3 #🍱 anon

[mangowafflesss]

Bandaged Fangs | Vampire!Medic!Reader x Gaz

Summary: You hide a big secret but what happens when a certain patient finds out that very secret.

CW: Blood (obviously), Poorly written smut cuz I'm BAD at it, unprotected sex, blood sucking/biting etc, Gaz fucks a vampire? idk bro nothing bad tbh...

Word Count: 3K+

Mythic Month HQ

★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★

You were supposed to be out on the field right now but instead you stayed behind. Some other medic practically begged you to let them go, and who were you to say no to someone wanting to gain experience. You had been the team's medic for around eight months, you had run away from where you previously resided due to your secret getting out and you had to unfortunately dispose of them before leaving. 

You missed your home in Sweden but nevermind, mistakes happen and you weren't going to let that happen again. Whenever the guys asked about your past you always gave them vague answers which seemed to satisfy them until they invited you for drinks one time and bombarded you with questions. You couldn't get drunk anymore unfortunately, so your acting skills had to be put into fruition.  

Rubbing circles into your temple you sat leaned back in your office chair with your feet up on the desk with the lights off and blinds closed. Your head was pounding which would usually be strange to you but you knew exactly what was happening. 

You hadn't had any blood in a while so your need and desire for it was getting worse with every month you don’t consume any. It wasn't common for one to go for as long as you have and it was starting to show in your behaviour. 

You were snappier with your colleagues and the work you did on some of your patients was shoddy, it was disgusting to even call yourself a professional sometimes. 

You would go snack on the nearest blood bag but even in the comfort of your own office you can't seem to be alone for five seconds without someone wanting your attention. 

“What?!” you say in a rather frosty attitude as your door is wretched open by your movements. “We've got a few casualties coming in from a mission” Alison tells you with a fearful look in her eye. “Thank you, now go do something useful” you shut the door and let out a sigh as you let out your frustration on a nearby chair, the leg snapping upon impact. You don't know how you're going to explain that but that's something to worry about for another time. 

Right now you've got to get through this mess and retreat back to your office to deal with the monster of a headache you've got coming along. “Let's get this shit over with” you mumble under your breath before storming out of your office. 

Blood filled your nose and you felt a wave of nausea come over you. This wasn't good… you were really in dire need to feel the warmth of someone's blood trickle down your throat while they let out those cute little breaths under you. 

“Hey! You're standing in the way” your head turns to the voice and you give him a death glare as you turn and walk towards where there's a mass of soldiers waiting for medical attention.     

Your gums ached as you walked but you ignored it and threw yourself in your work, it's what you're here for anyway. 

Your eyes were met with the brown ones of Sergeant Garricks and your mouth started to water. You’ve had fantasies for months of tasting his blood, the scent alone sent you wild the first time you caught a whiff and ever since you've taken the opportunity to help him out with his injuries. Many of your colleagues think you've got a little crush on the brunette but they couldn't be so wrong. 

All you wanted was his blood.

He smiles when he sees you and walks over to you with his hand clamped around his arm. “Hey Angel, think you can fix me up with those wonderful hands of yours?” you steer him to a clear space away from everyone and also where no one else could see.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t get injured again?” you say while unwrapping whoevers attempt at first aid this is. You lick your lips when you see the glistening red hue of the blood that surrounds his arm. “What can I say, I'm a liar. I deserve to be punished for my lies” he jokes while dramatically holding his hand over his heart. The heart that's beating quite fast right now under your touch. 

You couldn't deny the fact you know the Sergeant has some sort of crush on you, it was obvious but you like to watch as he makes a fool of himself. Who knows, this may all work in your favour. 

“What would you like your punishment to be?” you ask as you clean his skin, the smell of the antiseptic makes the blood become unrecognisable under your senses which makes you snarl. 

“What do you have in mind for me Angel ” he asks innocently tilting his head to look you in the eyes but all you could make out was the lust in them. Leaning closer to his ear you're careful to not hurt his arm and get as close as you can.

“What's your deepest fear, sergeant?” you felt his heartbeat jump at how you say his rank which makes you smile into the side of his head. You stand straight again when he doesn’t answer you which makes you look at him just to see if he's still conscious.  

“Vampires.” he states blankly, which makes you stand there frozen while blinking at him like a fool. 

“Vampires? Did you hit your head today?” you laugh hiding the fact that you were on the verge of running out and never coming back. There's no way he knows… right? It was very random to bring up out of everything but perhaps he's being serious. 

“No, I’m completely fine up here” he knocks on his head and then flashes you his toothy smile which would make anyone swoon. “Would you make that happen though Angel?” he asks and you tilt your head while looking up from what you were doing “Make what happen?” 

“Dress up as a vampire for me” 

You almost choked on your spit at his words but by the look on his face he was being deadly serious without any hint of playfulness in him. “You could make that happen right?” 

“Sure…” you weren't really paying attention as you stuck out your tongue in concentration as you wrapped his arm. Once you were finished he hopped off the bed and brought you into a hug, your mouth was so close to his neck and his pulse was driving you crazy. You could smell him and your mind went into some sort of haze until you felt yourself being pulled away from the hug. His hands rested on your shoulders and he gave you a smile which you reciprocated for some unknown reason. 

“See you later then Angel, make sure you wear the teeth!” he shouts as he walks away and leaves you standing there confused as to what just happened.  

When you finally retreated back into your dark cave you like to call your office, you slumped in your chair and covered your face with your hands. Your day was terrible and mixed with the hunger you were experiencing you wanted to rip someone's head off. You oversaw a blood transfusion today and the ‘b-’ on the bag made you think of a certain someone. 

Brown eyes and those curls made you slam your fists onto your desk in frustration. Your conversation from earlier made you nervous but somewhat excited. You could finally, maybe, get your fix for his blood and finally be back to your normal self or he could go off running and telling everyone what you are because you mistook him. 

It was around eight in the evening and you were still in your office filling out some paperwork until your phone pinged with a text. 

No one who wasn't important had your number which confused you until you picked it up and looked at the screen. 

Still waiting for my Vampire ;) 

Narrowing your eyes you looked at the time and got up from your chair, it's now or never. You texted him to ask where he was staying and gave you the exact directions from your office all the way to where he was. It made you giggle a little as you turned down different left and rights to get to him but when you stood outside of his door the ache in your gums was making it difficult to focus on the door opening.    

“Hi Angel” he was leaning against the door with one arm, he didn’t have a shirt on but you just coughed and peered into his room under his arm. You saw his messy bed and laughed “I thought you guys were more disciplined than this” you say while walking in and pushing him to the side while pointing to his screwed up sheets. 

“Didn’t think you'd mind, apologies” he flicks it up into the air and it perfectly rests on top of his mattress. You didn't really care about it but you had to break the awkwardness somehow, you had no idea why you came but he wanted this. 

He stood in front of you and your eyes locked onto one another before he reached out a hand and grabbed yours. You were very confused as he placed your hand on his neck where his pulse was beating rapidly. 

You felt the unsteady rhythm under the pads of your fingers and smiled because of his unnatural heartbeat. “Are you okay Kyle” you felt his pulse skip as if it was doing jump rope and you hid the laugh threatening to escape your throat. 

“I want you to bite me” 

If you still had a heart that beats you are pretty sure yours would be jumping up and down. “Excuse me?”

One of his hands moved to grab your cheeks and he squished them, your lips pouted and he kept squeezing until your mouth opened on its own. “I saw them. I know what you are” you pushed away from him and he looked at you in shock. 

“Are you sure you didn’t hit your-” 

“No I didn’t hit my head Angel. I’ve been watching you for quite a while, you’re very interesting…” he stepped towards you but you took a step back until your back touched the door. 

“Three months ago we went for drinks, you hardly ever touched your drink so I watched you” he stepped closer until your feet kissed and he peered into your eyes, you could see his pupils were blown wide which made you swallow thickly. “When that bar fight broke out and there was blood I still watched you, the way you licked your lips and how your pretty canines grew. You quickly hid your mouth by holding the glass up to your mouth, pretending to take a sip”  

You knew Gaz was smart, he was probably too smart for his own good sometimes. Your faces were just a breath apart and you felt his fingers trail up your throat until he tilted your head up by your chin. “Will you let me see them? Please?” 

Your thoughts were racing, the dangers were like warning sirens but you sighed and opened your mouth. His hand cupped your cheek as you did so and your gums felt relief as you extended out your fangs. His eyes widened as he took them in, long extensions of your own flashed in the dim room and he was completely fixated on them. His thumb ran along your lip and then did something that took you by surprise. 

He kissed you. 

His heart was beating so fast and you couldn't focus on anything else, you could feel it in your own chest as he pushed his against yours. It wasn't slow or gentle but fierce and greedy, one of his hands was still holding your cheek while the other gripped your hip in a possessive grip. 

“Fuck I’ve waited so long to do this” he breaths out before capturing your lips again, his tongue liked along your lips as he forced his way inside of your mouth. Your tongues danced together until he started to suck on yours, he moaned and you felt him press himself up against you. He was hard and you were starting to wonder how many times in these past three months he's thought about this very moment.   

He pulled away suddenly and then grabbed your hand while walking over to his bed. He sat down with his back against the headboard and then pulled you into his lap. Your legs straddled his thighs and his hands rested on your hips and pulled you closer to his body. Your hands rested on his chest as he looked up at you with those lustful eyes. 

“I’m at your mercy, Angel” he says, baring his neck for you to take.        

He rubbed circles into your hips which drove you wild. Bending down, you pressed gentle kisses from his jaw down to his neck. You flattened your tongue and licked a stripe up the length of his neck, his pulse quickened against your tongue and your fangs grazed against his skin but before you sunk them into him you kissed up to his ear “I need your consent before I bite you” you ask and a shiver runs through his body, he nods his head an you sigh “Use your words Kyle” his hands gripped you tighter and let out a shaky breath.  

“Yes, I want you to bite me” 

You return to his neck and lick your lips before finding your favourite spot and sinking your fangs into his warm body. He lets out a gasp and you hum as his blood trickles down your throat. It was addicting and you wanted all of it. 

Kyle's hands move from your hips down to your ass and he gives it a squeeze, grinding yourself against him he lets 0ut a moan and moves you against him. He lets out the sweetest sounds into the air and you could taste the change in his blood, he was sweeter due to his aroused state. 

“You taste so good” you say pulling away from his neck, you need to be careful and not drain him completely. You see his blissed out eyes and smile softly, the bite mark on his neck stands out and you watch as a small drop slides down his chest and over his nipple. You attach your lips to his chest and swirl your tongue around spreading the blood over his skin. Sucking slightly you feel his nipple pebble in your mouth but slowly move upwards, following the streak of blood to the source.

Sitting up straight you feel him hard and big under you which makes the pool in your panties turn into a waterfall. His thumb swiped at your chin and then he pushed it through your lips into your mouth. You begin to suck the blood off his thick thumb and he watches you with an intense stare, your hips still rocking against him with a steady rhythm. 

Removing his thumb he grabs the back of your neck and brings you into another kiss, the taste of his blood still resting on his tongue. You didn’t know if he would even like it due to its metallic taste but he doesn't seem to care as he ruts himself against you. 

His hands skirt under your shirt and his fingertips tickle your skin, raising it further up your body you lift your arms and let him discard the material somewhere in his room. Pressing open kisses to your neck and chest you arch your back to get as close as possible to him and feel his hands crawl up your spine to where the clasp of your bra is. 

His mouth is hot against your skin and you feel his teeth graze across the perked bud of your breast. Your fingernails scraped against his scalp as you pushed him further onto your fleshy mound. 

“You're perfect Angel” he whispers into your skin but with your hearing you could hear it and begin to smile and pull him off you with a pull at his hair. He detached himself from your breast and you could see his lips glistening with his spit. 

Scooching down his thighs you play with the waistband of his sweatpants waiting for his confirmation before pulling them down along with his boxers. He kicks them off and you remove your pants with speed. 

Reunited with the comfort of his lap he grabs his cock and rubs it against your clit and your folds which are dripping for him. You feel the head prod against your entrance and you kneel higher before aligning him with your aching cunt. 

Sinking down on him you both let out a gasp as you feel your walls stretch around him, you don’t feel pain but you could've sworn you felt something sting. Staying seated fully sheathing him he looks you in the eyes and kisses you again. 

You grind yourself against him and feel him moan into your mouth, you bite his lip which starts to bleed and lick up his delicious blood which would make any vampire come on the spot. 

“Ah- fuck bite me” he sounds so whiny but you couldn’t do it just yet, he pawed at your body and your hips, gripping them tightly as he pounds into you. His thumb played with your clit which makes you clench around him. “C’mon Angel, come on my cock” your head was in the crook of his neck as he fucks you deeper bringing you closer and closer to an orgasm. 

When you're close, your fangs extend to their fullest and you pull his head back by the hair, his neck was on show for you and your fangs dug into his flesh and his blood began to flow again. Your tongue licked and gathered the liquid in your mouth and you groaned at how good it was.  

Pulling you off him he presses you against his mattress with him hovering over you, pulling your legs over his shoulders he enters you again in one fluid motion. He fucks you ruthlessly, your body tightening and sucking him in. 

Drops of blood fall from the fresh bite mark on his neck and land onto your skin, painting you like watercolours. It was a sight to see and Gaz blew his load right there and then, his movements slowed as he pumped you full of his seed and released your legs from around his shoulders. He kissed along your thighs and saw his come leak from your pussy, pressing a finger inside he bends down and licks the blood from your body.

Humming in content you run your hands through his hair as you feel him finger fuck you through another orgasm. “Fuck yesyes” your back arches and you feel him remove his fingers and lick them clean which doesn’t surprise you. 

Catching his breath he gives you a kiss on the nose before getting up and grabbing something to clean you with. When he's done he gathers you in his arms and pulls you on top of his body. You could hear his calm heartbeat and smile before sitting up and looking deeply into his eyes. 

“Was my Vampire costume okay?” 

He let out a laugh and the rumble of it shook you, “There wasn’t a cape sooo I would have to give it a three out of ten” 

“A cape? Really?” you deadpan and he smiles stupidly at you. “Well next time get someone else to bite and fuck you” you go to move off him but he pulls you back and kisses you deeply.

“I’m just joking Angel, I give you a ten out of ten” rolling your eyes you lie back down on his chest and close your eyes, you feel so full and needed to rest.

As you were drifting off you felt his lips next to your ear “Seriously though, next time wear the cape and nothing under it”

#Mangos Mythic Month🦇˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.: #kyle gaz garrick x female reader #kyle garrick x female reader #gaz x female reader #gaz smut #gaz cod #gaz call of duty

[gloomwitchwrites]

By the Belt (2 of 4)

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: established relationship, undressing, talking through it, praise, vaginal fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie, cowgirl position

Word Count: 1.5k

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

Gaz tells you to take what you want.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // by the belt masterlist

The light on the bedside table is on. Its warm glow rolls out across the bedroom, illuminating the room enough to cast long shadows against the wall.

Kyle stands just shy of the end of the bed, his black suit jacket tossed onto the sheets. Tugging on the tie at his neck, Kyle’s gaze is focused on the phone in his hand. He’s tapping away, his cheeks slightly flushed with a rosy hue from the amount of alcohol the two of you have consumed this evening.

The top two buttons of his white dress shirt are open, revealing skin and the faintest fluff of chest hair. He sighs, tapping again, sending something out before opening up another message. It’s likely all work related, an aspect of him that never seems to shut off.

Slowly, you stalk from the bathroom doorway to Kyle in nothing but your lingerie. You’re already out of your dress and heels, only wanting for him to put his phone aside and relax. The moment you walk up to him, Kyle reaches out almost on instinct, his gaze still on his phone but his hand seeking you.

His palm makes contact with your bare skin, and you slide your fingers into the belt loops of his perfectly tailored dress pants. Pulling taut, you draw Kyle against you, bodies pressed close together.

Kyle’s gaze immediately shifts to you, the concern in the middle of his brow softening to affection. His mouth stretches into a smile that he only ever gives you.

“Baby girl,” he croons, the backs of his fingers tenderly skimming along the edge of your jaw. “You can have whatever you want.”

The two of you stand in the middle of the bedroom, pressed close, your hands between your bodies. It’s late, and the flow of traffic is almost non-existent. It’s unusually quiet, just your breath and his.

Kyle is the handsy one. He loves touching you, reaching for you at every possible moment. Sometimes it’s blatant, squeezing thigh and hip, while other times he is subtle with just passing touches.

“I want you,” you murmur, because it’s the truth, and you also want Kyle to relax, to be present in this moment. The entire evening has been a whirlwind.

Sometimes Kyle reaches for you and almost isn’t aware that he’s doing it. You are not nearly as generous or bold with your touches as he is, so sliding your fingers into the belt loops of his pants to pull him closer might come across as forward.

But Kyle doesn’t seem all that surprised. The sultry smile on his face is enough to send heat racing to the space between your legs.

“You want me,” he repeats back. Kyle doesn’t need to question your motives. His is aware of just how much you love him; of how much you like to just linger in his presence.

“I’ll always want you,” you murmur, tipping your head back as a silent invitation.

Kyle locks his phone and tosses it onto his suit jacket. “But how do you want me, love? Be specific. You can take what you want, but you need to tell me.” The fingers brushing at your jaw rotate, tracing the curve of your bottom lip. “Direct me,” he murmurs. How do you want it?”

The way he’s speaking to you doesn’t make the dominance in you flare. If anything, it drives you toward submission, to lay on your back and welcome him in until you feel him for the next few days.

Slowly, your fingers slide out of the loops, travel upward to undo the buttons on his shirt one at a time, revealing chiseled chest. Kyle does not move. He waits for you to help him out of it, to toss it onto the bed before transitioning to the front of his pants, undoing buckle, removing his belt, opening the front only to push it down his legs and hips. You stay down there, unlacing his dress shoes and rolling off his socks. They’re kicked off. Tosses to the side. Entirely forgotten as you return to standing.

The moment you’re staring into his face again, Kyle moves, sliding his arm around your waist, head dipping like he’s about to kiss you but pauses at the last second.

“Where do you want me?” he asks softly.

“On the bed.”

Kyle shakes his head. “Be specific.”

“Reclining,” you answer.

“That’s it, love.”

Kyle teasingly clips the underside of your chin before he picks up his phone and suit jacket, bringing them to the dresser and returning to the bed. He slides into the middle, leans back against the array of plush pillows, spreading his arms wide.

He is entirely naked. Completely bare. And Kyle hides nothing from your gaze. He is displaying himself, knowing that you’re absorbing it all, taking notice of the hardening length of him.

You crawl up the bed to straddle his lap. Kyle keeps his arms outstretched, not touching until you give him the next instruction. Your hands rest on his chest, pressing into him, lips coming together in a slow kiss.

“Touch me,” you murmur against his lips.

“How?”

You reach out and guide one of his hands between your legs. “Touch me here.”

Kyle lightly rubs his palm over your pussy through the fabric of your delicate lace underwear. He sighs deeply, one finger sliding underneath and then another before pushing it to the side.

He plays with you at first, exploring like he’s just now learning your body. Then, he isn’t. Then he is circling your clit in little swirls that draw up the gentle roar that sits low in your belly. Already, you need him, and Kyle knows this.

He moves away, testing to see how wet you are. Kyle moans softly when he finds your excitement dripping onto the tips of his fingers. One finger easily slides inside, and Kyle begins to pump casually, simulating sex, lightly curling the very tip to draw against that perfect spot inside you. His thumb takes up residence against your clit, moving in time with his pumping finger.

Your eyelids flutter, then shut as your back arches, moaning loudly.

“Is that what you want, love?” he murmurs, coaxing an answer from you with a perfectly placed stimulation of your clit.

“Yes,” you manage to breathe, the word stuttering out.

The orgasm is sharp and quick, giving you the release you need and yet driving your desire even higher.

Kyle slowly continues to pump his finger. “More?”

You shake your head. “I want something else.”

“What?” he asks, automatically.

Leaning back a bit, you reach behind you to grasp his cock, stroking him gently. Kyle groans, his hand not occupied between your legs reaching out to grasp your thigh, fingers digging into your flesh.

“You know what to do,” he says through gritted teeth.

With one hand around his cock to guide, you flex your hips up, slowly sinking down on him. You roll up, and then back down, hands returning to Kyle’s chest as you seat yourself entirely on him. The head of his cock sits deep, and your fingers dig into his chiseled pectorals.

Kyle’s eyelids and brow are soft as they gaze on you. Whimpering, you come up and go right back down, the angle hitting that sweet spot.

“Good,” he breathes. “Doing so well, love. Just like that.” You repeat the movement and Kyle fails to stifle a groan. “Fuck—oh, fuck. That’s right, sweetheart.”

His praise warms your skin and blood. Sliding your hands upward, you hold onto his shoulders, using them as leverage to rock and bounce back on him. Kyle’s breathing lengthens, nostrils flaring as he tries to retain control of himself. Kyle’s grip on your thigh changes. Moving closer toward your pelvis, Kyle finds your clit with his thumb, stroking it in just the way you need to, causing the muscles in your legs to quiver.

He sends you over the edge in moments.

“Kyle,” you groan, his name dripping from your lips to stain the air.

“Fucking hell, love,” he moans, his other hand sliding up to grab the back of your neck, keeping you anchored against him.

“Fuck me, Kyle. Please. Please.” You need to feel him everywhere, to remember the stretch of him inside you for days after.

Kyle answers by meeting each roll of your hips with an upward thrust. The two of you come together repeatedly until his own thighs tense beneath.

“Inside me. Please, Kyle. Please. Please.”

You’re begging at this point, the words falling into bursts of air that Kyle pulls from your body with each thrust of his hips.

He holds you flush against him as his release hits him. No words are spoken, just sounds that speak to pure contentment and bliss. Collapsing against him, Kyle wraps his arms around your back, holding you close, sinking further into the pillows and bedding, your bodies sticky and sweaty.

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @miaraei @contractedcriteria

#kyle gaz garrick fic #kyle gaz garrick smut #kyle gaz garrick fanfic #kyle gaz garrick fanfiction #kyle gaz garrick x you #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x female reader #kyle garrick fanfic #kyle garrick imagine #kyle garrick fanfiction #kyle garrick fic #kyle garrick smut #kyle garrick fluff #kyle gaz garrick fluff #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick x you #kyle garrick x fem!reader #kyle garrick x female reader #gaz imagine #gaz fanfic #gaz smut #kyle gaz x reader #gaz x reader #gaz x you #gaz x female reader #kyle gaz garrick imagine #cod smut #call of duty smut #call of duty fanfiction #cod fanfiction

[the-whispers-of-death]

Pretend Boyfriend!Gaz

This is the masterlist of all of the Pretend Boyfriend!Gaz Drabbles. This reader is gender neutral.

Asking Gaz to Pretend to Be Your Boyfriend

The Thanksgiving Dinner

Christmas Shopping

This may not be a completed list (it may be expanded upon)!

#kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #kyle gaz #gaz cod #kyle gaz garrick x male reader #kyle gaz garrick x gender neutral reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x female reader #kyle garrick x male reader #kyle garrick x gender neutral reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick x female reader #kyle gaz x male reader #kyle gaz x gender neutral reader #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz x female reader #gaz x male reader #gaz x gender neutral reader #gaz x reader #gaz x female reader #cod #cod modern warefare 2 #cod mwii #cod mw2 #pretend boyfriend!gaz #:)

[fallenneziah]

Overstimulated reader whose cum more times than they can count on their fingers, desperately trying to crawl away and save themselves from any more. Squirming and begging for it to end because of how blissed and fucked out they are.

And he pulls you back, large hands on your thighs, yanking you back over, bending over you to growling in your ear. "Where do you think you're going, sweetheart?"

And he continues to torture your spent organ, making you quiver and moan, shaking as he pulls another orgasm from your body. Telling you how pretty you look like this.

And as you continue to try and squirm, he holds you down in place, keeping you still until you can't fight anymore and give in to everything he has to give you...

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x female reader #simon ghost riley x reader smut #captain john price x you #john price x reader smut #captain john price x reader #smut #reader insert #fandom drabbles #john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz smut #cod smut #can go for any fandom really #the he is unnamed

[sombrashe]

Gaz' porn search is just

Chubby girl porn

Chubby girlfriend porn

Eating chubby girlfriend out

Chubby girl x soldier porn

Chubby girl x strong guy porn

Fucking chubby girlfriend first time

#im sorry for how its all fem language but im afab and am ok with being perceived as female in this sense #call of duty #cod mw2 #call of duty mw2 #call of duty smut #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #gaz x reader smut #operator writes

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

Hello, Congratulations on the 5k follows!!

I discovered this fandom a few months ago and have been living for your writing ever since.

I was thinking as a drabble of the taskforce gentlemen coming home at the crack of dawn from a long mission and seeing their spouse's hand, limp on the ground peeking out from the side of the couch. All the panic and worry going thru their heads, so much bubbling up, horrible scenarios. They rush over and find you sleeping on the floor. The power had gone out last night and the hardwood floor was the coolest place to be (you didn't want to open the window because you know how they worry), so you were watching stuff on your phone and drifted off. Crisis averted!

Thank you for your time 💜

—Wide-Eyed Panic

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [Why were you behind the couch?] ❞

I’ll start by saying all of them would be concerned and immediately go into panic mode—why were you behind the couch? Why was your hand sticking out? Why, in God's name, were you not moving? Cue the horrible thoughts and flashes of what went on in their work lives.

John Price ➺

John entered the house with a sigh, slipping off his boots as the door was closed and deftly locked behind him. Grunting under his breath, the man rubs over his face, the lights off as he calls out with a tired grumble to his voice. 

“I’m back,” his voice echoes, the tone moving through the darkness far louder than it should have. There’s no answer. “Love…?” Pausing, John blinks slowly at the wall, ear twitching to the utter silence of the home. No water in the pipes. No buzzing of electricity. No you. Eyes rising, they dart around quickly as his finger moves out to the light switch. A small push elicits nothing, just as he thought. The power was out. 

Dread slowly creeps into John’s chest.

Hand reaching behind his back, the man’s fingers inch over the smooth metal of a pistol, grasping the weapon before he begins walking forward. He keeps silent, feet moving to where he knows the wood won't creak. 

His mind runs. 

Why was the power off? Where were you? Why didn’t you respond—were you hurt? John’s mind goes to blood and bullets, his jaw clenching tightly as the pistol comes out to rest in front of him; hands shifting the grip as he takes a soothing breath. Panicking wouldn’t help anyone, but it would be pointless to lie about how his heart hammers. 

“Fuck,” he growls, eyes going tight. 

That’s when he sees it. Blue eyes widen sharply. 

“Love!” John shouts, all other concerns about intruders meaningless to him. Your hand was sticking out from behind the couch, a dark shadow in the low light. He rushes over as you jerk, yelling in alarm as he rushes to grab you, pulling you up into his arms and pulling you away into the closet across the room.

“John!” You blink rapidly as you’re set back against the wall. 

“Shush now,” he grunts, eyes panicked. “Keep awake, let me look.” A hand moves all over your body, searching and pulling at clothes to touch the skin for any wounds. “Tell me where it hurts, then. Quickly. We have to move—”

“John, what the hell,” you push at him, moving him back. Your eyes try to adjust to being so rudely awakened at such an hour. “What are you doing?!”

You weren’t hurt. 

The Captain’s face pulls in with confusion, back against the closet door and now in more darkness than ever before. He can barely make out your face before you sigh and put your hands against his arms. 

Things begin to calm down as his hand rests at your hip, nearly tight enough to bruise. In his other is the gun just before you put your hand to it and softly peel the item away from him—putting it on the shelf that you know is to your left. 

Hands find John’s cheeks as he pants.

“John,” you say his name again. “...what happened.”

“Why were you on the ground?” He forces out firmly, voice a low grunt. “Why were the lights not—”

“The power went out for everyone, okay?” You speak slowly, rubbing your thumbs over his beard. “It was on the news. I didn’t open a window because I knew you would worry about that—the floor was cool and it was getting too hot in here.” 

Your mind tells you to explain quickly and fluently. You move forward and press your forehead into John’s as he sags with a great exhalation of breath—his arms circling you tightly until your spine might crack. 

He doesn’t speak for a long while, just holding you.

“Scared me,” he mutters, missing you deeply on the forehead, speaking into your skin. “Fuck, you scared me.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

He keeps you to his chest, eyes fluttering shut and his spine hunching over you, fingers splayed over your back. You run your hands through his hair and calm the swelling of your heart.

You can feel his pulse mirroring your own.

Simon Riley ➺

When he sees your hand, he freezes. 

Simon wasn’t a stranger to the lights being off in the home—you opted for lamps and low light more often than not; this wasn’t new. He had only quirked a brow when he came home to the pitch-blackness, off from his recent deployment and eager for a warm bed to fall into. He admits he’d let himself calm down on the car ride home—your home was where he could relax and release tension until it became as unimportant as an ant on the pavement. 

But when he’d closed the door silently behind him and walked the few steps it would take to enter the living room, where he was sure you were still up either reading or watching something on your phone under a blanket, his body had stiffened immediately. 

Your hand sticking out from behind the couch. Limp. 

Lifeless.  

He’d been staring at it for only a few seconds before the memories came back—the ones of gore splattered to the walls and ceiling of an old flat back in Manchester. 

Simon’s thoughts had hit him like a bullet.

Not again.

Rushing forward like a bear, the man slips along the hardwood as his knees go down, shaking the home at the force at which he grabs at your body and flips you from your side to your back. 

You gasp awake and instinctually throw out a fist, connecting with a stone chest as you hiss and blink in panic. 

Fingers ruthlessly dig into your shoulders, wide brown eyes open, and…and afraid. 

“Simon?” You mutter softly, all fear in your heart is squished in an instant. 

The man breathes through wheezes, balaclava fabric moving from the force of his breaths. His fingers are shaking, blinking as his head jerks to look your lying form up and down swiftly. 

You hesitantly put a hand on his cheek and he flinches before nuzzling into it. 

“Don’t…” he takes a quivering breath into his lungs, and after, loosens his grip on your skin. Simon’s hands go to your waist, dragging you up and stapling you to his chest. “Don’t do that again.”

His voice is low. Vulnerable. 

You blink, hands holding him back on the floor. 

“...The power went out,” you try to explain only half of it softly, muffled by his neck. 

He only holds you harder, eyes open and blankly staring at the floor a foot away.

Johnny MacTavish ➺

Johnny hums a song under his breath, hanging his keys on the hook near the door.

“Dearie!” He calls to you loudly, itching at the side of his head and chuckling. “Don’t run too fast to me now, I’m all yours for two w—”

The light switch is moved by his finger, but no light illuminates his path to the living room. Pausing in the entrance, the man’s brows furrow tightly, speech cutting off like scissors to paper. 

“...eeks?” Johnny ends his sentence, turning back around to look at the switch in confusion. “The hell’s going on with that?” He mutters to himself, a frown growing on his face before he refocuses on his mission to find you—now with the added task of figuring out why the power was out in the house. 

“Swear,” the man grumbles, huffing while he runs a hand over his face, “if those kids down the street did something I’ll be livid. Little devils, I swear.” 

Johnny steps farther into the living room, glancing around. 

“Dearie?” He pauses, listening before calling out your name. “Where’s she off to?”

He sighs softly, wanting to hold you now that he’s home to do so—squeeze you in his arms and take in your scent again; he’d missed you immensely while he was away.

Johnny came across your hand sticking out from behind the couch by accident, moving to make his way into your bedroom thinking that you were sleeping. He sees an odd shape in the blackness and pauses, feet slowing to a stop. 

When he notices that it’s a hand—your hand, he doesn’t even realize that he’s completely gripped the side of the couch and wrenched it back until the scratch of the wood floors screams in his ears. 

You wake up to hands on your cheeks, sharp yelling, and your head being shaken up and down until you’re conscious. 

“Dearie, hey! What the fuck,” the last sentence is growled on fast lips. “What the fuck.”

Your hands slap to Johnny’s wrists, nails digging in. 

He breathes out quickly, looking into your eyes to look for dilation as the darkness forces him closer. “There we are, tell me where you’re hurting, now, yeah? Did you hit your head? Let me take a look. It’s okay, I’ll get you all fixed up, there’s no need to worry.”

“Hey!” Your hands push at his, trying to shove the brick wall away from you. “Quit it! Johnny! I’m fine! ”

The man pauses at your animated movements, blinking rapidly before his grip loosens. 

When it’s obvious that you’re perfectly fine, he moves back and groans, thumb and forefinger digging into his nose bridge. 

“Hell’s bells, Hen.” You glare, panting on the floor before you push yourself up. 

“‘Hell’s bells’, me?” Johnny’s head plops to your shoulder. “You just shook me like a fucking rabbit!” 

“Scared the shite out of me, you terror.” The man huffs. “Need to put a heart monitor on you.”

“Piss off,” you sigh, putting a hand to your chest to feel the pace of your pulse and the blood that runs furiously.

Johnny, moments later as he’s still resting on your shoulder, starts…laughing. Low at first, then gaining noise the more it goes unchecked—a deep rumble into chest-jerking amusement. You look down at him, the couch tilted and long scratches over the floor. Pausing, you blink at his shaking shadow before your lungs start quivering. The two of you bend over one another with shared, house-shaking laughter. 

“What the fuck were you doin’ behind the damn couch?” Johnny grabs you close, kissing along your neck as he picks you up, dragging you to your feet. 

“The power went out!” You giggle, chest hurting from the fast gasps of breath as more kisses are spread over your skin. “It was colder down there and I didn’t want to open one of the windows because I knew you’d throw a pouting match about it.”

“Christ, Dearie.” Lips meet your own. “I had half the mind to think you had a heart attack. Nearly gave me one.”

Kyle Garrick ➺

Kyle sighs as he rubs at his jaw, itching the skin and slipping out of his jacket. 

“I’m home, Love!” He says, his voice echoing over the flat. “Want me to start on supper or have you eaten yet?” The man smiles, taking off his cap and putting it on the coat rack, sighing softly. 

It was good to be back. 

Bending down to unlace his boots, he pulls at them until they’re loose enough to slip out of, thumping to their sides on the rug until he reaches out and fixes them. 

“What’s that, then?” He calls into the darkness, not hearing your answer as he quickly checks the time on his phone. “Fuck, it’s late,” Kyle utters to himself. 

Walking into the kitchen, he touches the light switch only to be met with nothing. Pausing, the man’s face pulls in—fingers twitching at his sides as he glances at the window and the moonlight that seeps in to glare along the floor. 

A deep frown takes hold of him, and he looks around once more before backing up.

“...Love?” Kyle wasn’t too concerned—the building wasn’t always the best, and power outages weren’t unheard of. But, damn, if the high of getting off of a deployment didn’t put him in a negative head-space when it came to a change in routine involving you. 

Why weren’t you answering him?

Walking slightly faster into the living room, his hand nearly reaches into his pocket to call your phone if you didn’t end up in any of the rooms—pulse beginning to be infected with a steady injection of adrenaline. 

Brown eyes find your hand behind the couch when they’re about to shift to the open door of your bedroom. A sharp gasp is inhaled instantaneously. 

Kyle races over, grappling to it and pressing his fingers to your neck for a pulse. You softly breathe, none the wiser as you lightly shift and sigh in your sleep; a delicate hum moving out as familiar fingers dig into you. 

It’s through his panic that a thought quickly cuts through the man’s mind. You’d mentioned this before. 

Kyle pauses, just about to loudly wake you. 

‘It gets hot when the power goes out, Kyle, I swear one of these days I’m going to just fall asleep on the floor. At least it’s cool down there.’

Well, the power was out, and, it seemed, you really had fallen asleep on the floor. Now that he thought about it, the flat was running hot—and he also knew that you knew he had gotten nervous of late when you left the windows open at night. 

“Bloody hell,” the man releases a long breath, free hand moving to grip the back of his head. A few seconds later, Kyle chuckles to himself, shaking his head with a small smile. “You are losing it, Mate. Losing it.” 

Without another word, he grips you, and with a grunt, picks you up and takes you to bed, setting you down on the pillows and making sure to leave the sheets off of you so you don’t grow uncomfortable.

A kiss is pressed to your forehead, and you hum in slumber, smiling unconsciously.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Love.” 

He leaves to go make a quick supper of cereal and milk.

#tw ptsd #tw mention of violence #cod #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty #x female reader #call of duty x you #cod mw22 #mw2 #mw2 2022 #141 x reader #cod 141 #john price x reader #soap mactavish x reader #simon riley x reader #kyle garrick x reader #cod x female reader #x fem!reader #female reader #cod mw x reader #mw x reader

[moondirti]

kyle yearns for his captain's approval. you're the perfect medium through which he can secure it.

featuring: gaz x fem!reader x price. very consensual. fondling. inspection. fluff. praise kink. objectification. cucking? anal play. mentions of dp and breeding. 4k words of nonsense.

when price asks gaz if he's got anyone at home, gaz answers.

truthfully. he'd be hesitant to admit that he does to anyone else – soap especially, what with his track record of worming his way into people's pants – but his captain is... his captain. jonathan price. a real force of nature, cursed with an uncanny determinism and a habit of getting what he wants regardless of if those around him are willing. gaz knows that price will find out eventually; when the ring he's been planning to purchase for months finds it's way onto your finger, and he requests a change be made to the dependants section of his paperwork. perhaps before then too, if he really did some digging. but gaz also knows that, if there were anyone to trust with this precious knowledge, it'd be him.

so, he tells him about the little number he's got tucked away in a home in south oxfordshire. it's the lazy afternoon before a big mission, and he shouldn't be drinking but he is, a tumbler cradled between his palms and the burn of rye whiskey loosening his tongue. price doesn't speak, just listens, as the sergeant gradually devolves into more and more detail about your meeting, your courtship, the work you distract yourself with when he's not around. and despite his reverence, he admits it all breathlessly, a sheepishness pervading every word. how is he expected to keep his composure when the air is so heavy? unrelenting scrutiny and the potent waft of cigar-smoke draw a hot flush to his skin, the older man humming every so often as a prompt for him to continue.

he wants to, oddly enough. gaz is a reticent man, second only to ghost when it comes to keeping his life private. but something about this circumstance has him ready to lay it all bare. he wants to tell price about how you kiss his neck, the wicked fucking ways in which you use your mouth to milk him dry. he wants to pull out his phone, scroll through the hidden album full of pictures of your tits, of home-made films that paint you in a cum-covered, dazzling light. he wants price to know that he chose right, wants to hear the praise whispered in his ear as his captain lays a sturdy clap onto his back.

instead, he shrugs.

"not much more to tell, cap."

"damn shame." price taps his cigar to rid of the ashes. "sounds like a proper match, garrick. good for you."

and it's enough. a big enough lump of wood to keep the needy fire in his belly roaring. he shifts in his seat to dissuade the heat, rubbing his jaw in contemplation like he hasn't already thought of a perfect way to reap more.

"tell you what, sir. we survive this next assignment, i'll bring you over to meet 'er."

it's a hairbreadth escape, but they do manage to make it back alive, albeit a bit more scarred than they once were. gaz gets home late at night to find you awake, waiting on him despite the incredibly short notice he'd given you for his arrival. it's there – in the foyer, his nose buried in your neck as you babble on about how much you missed him, and what you'll make for breakfast to celebrate, and questions like hey, are you okay? that cut looks fresh or when was the last time you slept? – that he breaks the news. you'll be having his captain over for dinner in two week's time.

of course you're overjoyed. you've been begging to meet the people he risks his life with ever since he told you what he did for work. the planning is immediate. you're dumping recipes on him the next morning, asking for his opinion on what appetiser, main, and dessert your guest of honour would enjoy best. and what's his poison, anyway? i can get my hands on a nice bottle of scotch if you think it'd be worth it. kyle doesn't have the heart to tell you that nothing you'll do would matter much, that price has already taken a liking to you. besides, if anything, your homemaking ability makes him chub up in his pants. best not to rob himself of that delight.

the night arrives as quick as it had been put forward. gaz has to dodge your attempts to put a tie on him, stifles your complaints with a kiss and insists that it's not that kind of dinner party. you're confused (bless you) but flit around making last minute preparations in your bustier midi-dress anyway, kitten-heels clicking against the polished hardwood floors. at a certain point, he can tell that you're fussing over nothing and pulls you by the hand to stand by the doorway with him.

"there's something i didn't mention earlier." he whispers when you're finally settled, tucking his index finger under your chin. your brows knit anxiously. he pecks the canyons between them, stroking your bottom lip until the frazzled energy bleeds from you.

"why would you wait? there's not enough t–"

"not exactly something you can plan for, doll. s'just gonna happen." when you fail to push him for more context, he sighs. "price is expecting to see you."

"sure... that's the whole point, isn't it?"

"no, sweetheart." gaz's free hand wraps around your waist, lowering until it reaches the plush sweel of your ass. his touch lays breadcrumbs for you to follow, leading you down the very depraved path he's trekked a million times the past few weeks. "i mean all of you."

your lips part in realization. oh. he's scared straight for a second, heart hammering like it always does when he reveals a darker fantasy to you. but you merely smile – anxious, sure, pupils clouded with fresh concern, but a smile nonetheless – and accept his admission gracefully.

"and you want me to let him?"

gaz nods. "if you'd please."

you place a chaste kiss on his cheek, careful not to smear your makeup onto his clean-shaven skin. "okay."

he visibly slackens, an edge of playfulness cutting it's way back into his tone. "what's say we take those panties off, make things easier when the time arrives?"

"can' remember the last time i had a beef welly this good, love. family recipe?"

"yes, actually! but it took me some time to perfect for my own. the original called for sherry in the duxelle, but i always thought wine was better suited."

kyle doesn't know if he's ever been more proud of you.

you're a vision. the paradigm of charm. he half feared things to would be awkward following your conversation at the doorway, but aside from the first few minutes of price's arrival – the time it took everyone to thaw the ice of unfamiliarity – you've been anything but stilted. in fact, he worries that you missed the true implication of his request – of the direction things will take later – given the way you laugh openly. the ease in which you bridge conversation topics. your attentiveness, eyes roving over both your boyfriend and his captain to ensure everyone has everything they need. you certainly don't act like a girl who's going to be nakedly appraised tonight. all the expected clumsiness, the stumbling over your own words, replaced instead by eloquence and quick wit.

sweet girl. bloody... beautiful, darling girl.

price seems to think so too. he chuckles heartily at the stories you offer of kyle failing learning to waterski during your anniversary trip to mauritius (and offers his own insight too, something along the lines of how you'd expect the sergeant to be better balanced, given he's survived hanging off a helicopter before). offers some solid advice on how to deal with the ostentatious coworker whose been bugging you for months. and when you question him about his personal life – a line every good soldier knows not to take with their CO, which has gaz wincing internally – all your guest offers is a genuine, crinkle-eye smile. no doubt appreciative of the non-intrusive manner you ask.

he shoots gaz a look before answering, and it's one full of tacky warmth. a look he's seen several times on the field, molasses sweet and satisfying, one that invades his private thoughts too often to admit. whose effect he knows only comes off in a cold shower, a quick pump to his cock if you're not around to help relieve it. something like approval. unspoken praise.

"wish i could say i've been blessed like the two of ya. married to my work, m'afraid."

"oh." you wave your arms, standing to clear the table of dirty plates. "don't be ridiculous, john. you're a wonderful man. put yourself out there and i'm sure it'll come to you." you say it like it's breathing, and just as easily prance away to the kitchen, your voice losing to the clatter of silverware in the sink. thus, when you yell out something about dessert (price is really only able to decipher i made madeira! over the illegible chorus of cabinets closing) kyle is the one to answer you. well-trained in untangling your voice from any sort of ruckus, poor cell reception and moans and drunk gibberish and the obstructive fabric of his hoodie when you sob into his chest.

"maybe later, doll!" he voices back, scratching the back of his neck as he takes in the food still laid out in front of them. picked apart by hungry forks but still, enough to make up days worth of leftovers.

"mm. the girl stuffed me full, garrick." price stretches from his seat. "if i didnt know any better, i'd reckon you lot were fattening me up to feast on me come winter."

gaz stores the remains of your meal into nearby tupperwares then follows suit, urging his captain to follow him into the lounge. "please," he laughs, nodding when the man pulls a cigar from his pocket and twists it in a silent question. "she thinks they starve us out there. tries to make up for it by feedin' me into oblivion when i'm home."

"speak for yourself. i could do with a home-cooked meal every now 'n' then." the captain takes a puff of the maduro between his fingers, lets the smoke cloud his hindbrain. your house smells so much like you, like kyle and you – warm laundry and anise and jasmine – that he feels a quick lick of guilt at ruining the fragile balance of it. too little too late, too – the scent of leather and oily spice pervades the space.

but you don't mention it once you waltz back in, smoothing your hands across the back of your dress. "if we don't get a chance to try the cake tonight, remind me to send you home with some, john." gaz poorly conceals his laugh with a cough, sinking into the cushion when you shoot him an offended look. "what?"

"nothing," he pouts, then hides his next words behind the back of his hand, whispering to price. "i told you."

"i can hear you, you twat!" you flick his ear, brows furrowed in faux irritation as your boyfriend wraps an arm around your legs.

"i know! hey– i know, gorgeous. was only joking." his forehead nudges your tummy, restless until you comb your hand over his tight curls. "th'captain knows that too. isn't that right, sir?"

"of course."

"you laugh now, but wait until you're halfway through a month long mission. you'll wish you had me around!"

"don't i know it." kyle murmurs, the fingers at the back of your thigh slowly creeping upward. the skirt of your dress slips, climbs up your legs with the motion of his forearm, and all too suddenly he remembers your lack of undergarments.

fuck. he almost forget he pocketed your panties. and you... you've been so natural, such a good hostess despite the cold brush of air constantly on your cunt. it flips a primal switch inside him – that same trigger that'd prompted mention of this night in the first place. blood rushes to his cock so fast it hurts, desperation flooding his lungs until the only thing he can breathe out is your name.

"hmmm." you smile in return. and if price weren't here, he'd bury his nose into the canyon between your legs and take a deep inhale of your natural musk.

but he is, and so all gaz can manage is a quiet: "how about you show the captain our little surprise?"

"oh?" the man in question hums. dangerously relaxed, two legs spread and his posture curved as he watches the little display you put on for him. "what's this about a surprise, then?"

you bite your lip, raking your nails down from your boyfriend's neck to his shoulder and placing a tight, reassuring squeeze there before breaking away. nothing is said as you push an ottoman between price's knees, making sure it's steady before pushing him to rest against the back of the couch.

"do you like my dress?" you practically purr, bending over as to pronounce your tits. kyle's breath stutters, watching for the way superior's eyes take in your form. gratification swells in his belly when he just smiles, patting your hip.

"s'that really a question that needs to be asked, lovie? you know the answer."

an adorable mix between a shrug and giggle is all you give. "kyle says you want to see me."

"aye. i do."

"and i wanna make him happy."

"same for me."

and kyle thinks he could just cum in his pants if this keeps up. he feels filthy, both an observer and the main act in this spectacle. the knowledge that his captain doesn't just want you, the love of his life, but him too works away at him, hollowing him out until he's nothing but a husk of docile yearning.

"so, what'll it be?" you say.

"turn around. elbows on the ottoman, knees on either side of my thighs."

you obey instantly, lamplight catching the heated flush of your skin while you position yourself according to price's wishes. your back arcs so that your ass is prominently within his view, plump even beneath the loose material of your dress.

"kyle."

"sir." he coughs, shifting to conspicuously adjust the aching mass tucked in his waistband.

"on your knees, son. righ' here beside me. when i ask a question, you're expected to answer."

"yes, sir."

"got tha' that, lovie?" he grunts. "respond now, and then it's silence from you."

"okay!" you wiggle your hips, forgetting yourself for a moment. "sir!"

this gaz can do. following orders. grounded pragmatism, however far this is from a professional setting. he figures price has gleaned as much, has given him this task so he doesn't flounder off track throughout the evening and ruin things for everyone. the hard part is over then, all of that hesitant foreplay – of opening up, getting you to agree, of the stretch of time it took for everyone to warm up to one another – wrapped up for something simpler.

all he has to worry about is answering promptly and correctly while he watches his captain–

flip your skirt over your hips.

a low whistle. then, two hands on your backside, kneading the soft flesh there. working either globe apart like dough, the glistening seam of your most private parts spread open to prying eyes. price appraises your cunt for the first time like he would a winning showdog, or the sky on a particularly pleasant day. all utilitarian-like. if it weren't for the bulge in his trousers, your boyfriend would almost be offended.

"no panties, hm?"

"no-" you start, squeaking out an apology when you earn a firm swat to your thigh.

"i asked her to go without them tonight. thought... you'd appreciate it, sir." kyle replies, swallowing the saliva that arises upon seeing your lips flutter.

"good lad." a hot flash of arousal breaks across his chest. the captain lets go of his grip on your ass, watching how the fat jiggles back into place, then returns to squeezing it. "surprised i couldn't smell 'er, way she was dancing around us all night."

it isn't a question, so gaz stays quiet.

the groping continues. sometimes its light – brushes of calloused palms across the area, disturbing the stillness like a rock skipping over water. you ripple when he pokes, shake when he taps. other times, and increasingly once price notes your resilience to pain, it borders on rough. moulding your flesh into compact pinches, jabbing his thumb into the softness so hard it'll bruise. you take it all with grace, a low whine building in your chest that he let's go unpunished.

"she's taking this well. you rough her up often?"

"when she asks, sir." he thinks for a moment, catching your wily smile from the corner of his eye. minx. "likes it more than i do giving it to her."

"need someone to take care of the both of ya." price chuckles, then moves on, oblivious to the way the sergeant's hips buck at his implication. or, maybe he notices – probably does – and stores it away for another time. "looks like a greedy little pussy to me." his thumbs hook onto either side of your labia, pulling it apart like fresh bed to reveal the sloppy mess between. your clit is enflamed, angry for being neglected for so long. if you were allowed to speak, kyle can guarantee with almost a hundred percent certainty that you'd be whining to be touched. "look a' tha'." price's accent grows thicker. "fat little thing just jumping for attention."

he curls a finger, then flicks the swollen bud. a loud moan bursts from you, your face falling between your forearms as you hold yourself back from begging. gaz would've acquiesced by now, would've rubbing the bundle of nerves raw the second you fanned your pretty lashes up at him.

but price snaps it three more times in rapid succession, which apparently is too much for you to handle because you yell. "p-please!"

he remedies your slip up with a slap to the same area. the crack on impact echoes long enough to tell him that one hurt. "shhh. so spoiled, sergeant. how often do you make her cum?"

"a-at least three times a go, sir."

"what's the record?"

"eight."

"and the longest you've held off?"

kyle hesitates, bowing his head for the reprimand he knows is coming. "never... never tried. sir."

"tch."

a precision blow. swift but petrifying. the captain's managed to find both your loose strings in a matter of minutes, tugging to see them come undone on his lap. gaz has got the unwavering urge to rest his chin on his strong thigh, put it on the record that he isn't weak willed, just indulgent. something that can be easily remedied, with his guidance. if he'd let him.

and you...

you're gyrating your hips, begging for some pressure on your aching centre. price gives it to you, though not in the way you expect, pinching your clit and tightening his hold until you're motionless, muscles trembling but otherwise perfectly poised.

so the inspection continues. he fans out your vulva, exposing the hole that clenches around nothing. a laugh wracks his frame at the sight, the aftermath of it husky. amused. "begging to be filled, a'right. how many cocks has she had in 'ere?"

"just mine, sir. and her toys."

"how about at once?"

kyle's never been so bold with you; has always held back that godless part of him, that needy dog he sees his comrades often embrace. pure, unfettered degeneracy. you're soft, and pretty and good and a high-functioning member of society. and he's never once wanted to see you hurt, uncomfortable or bite-mark-bloodied, despite the way his mind screams at him to at least ask. see if you'd be willing to appease that side of him.

yet you visibly shiver at the thought proposed by price, gooseflesh pocking your skin, and he knows he should have thrown caution to the wind.

"one, sir."

he watches the man's finger outline the circumference of your opening, dipping in by the millimetre to test the waters. "shame. could probably stretch her out. get 'er nice and loose for whenever you wan' something to keep you warm without the commitment."

the finger plunges in.

gaz watches you swallow his superior to the last knuckle in what must be a world-record, no time to blink lest he misses it. price goes with the motion, setting his free hand onto your ass to keep you steady as he wiggles his digit to make space amidst the tight embrace of your walls. or, that's what he thinks is happening. the only indication he has of things are the lewd squelches your cunt emits and the face of pure ecstasy you pull. but he's well-versed enough in your bodily functions that he's sure of his estimate.

"scratch wha' i said. nothing beats this." his superior groans, and for the first time that night, adjusts himself in his pants. kyle wishes he would pull it out, allow himself the relief of freeing a raging hard-on from its confines. but kyle also wishes that he could be given something to do, something with his mouth perhaps, to sate the unaddressed thrill in his bones. it wouldn't take a smart man to figure out that both wishes are very much correlated. "fucking suffocating clutch. wouldn' pull out if my life depended on it. pussy like this isn' made for that, garrick."

"sir?"

"you cum inside her, lad?"

"i- yes. i-i do. she's on birth control."

"best to see to that, then." he says, like the contraceptive is an obstacle and not a consolation. you release another, long-winded moan, to which price pulls his finger out to pat your vulva. like taming a wild animal. "though what i said still stands. could always do with a loose hole."

his hand inches up.

this time, it's gaz who groans.

loudly. his eyes fluttering halfway shut, hands tugging at the tight fabric over his groin. you throw a curious look over your shoulder, concern glossing your pupils until you confirm that the source of the sound isn't pain, but pleasure. ecstasy at finally having his wants vocalised, that incessant impulse that nags and nags and nags anytime he's fucking you from behind, tight rim practically leering up at him, tempting him to thrust upwards and 'accidentally' slip in.

"you like that, sergeant? hm? ever use this asshole? it looks unbroken to me."

"y-you're... not wrong, sir. i–"

"but you want to?" he finishes for him, scooping some of the abundant slick from your cunt and slathering it onto your back entrance. it's not enough lubrication to do anything but press one thumb in, but he repeats the process to push the other in alongside it.

"yeah."

you give him a look that can't mean anything except we'll talk about this later and he can bloody kiss price if he was given permission to, if not for anything but helping him open this impossible subject with you.

"we'll see to tha' some other day, then."

his thumbs retreat. your hole winks shut again. gaz is torn between looking at you or his captain, but the latter man robs him of the indecision by bringing his dominant index and middle fingers to his lips. they're shiny with the remnants of your fluids, as if he needed any incitement to wrap his mouth around the digits. he works at them until price's fingers prune, laving his tongue around the knuckles, against the nail beds, all the way through to the fold of skin between them.

so desperate to please, to see to it that 'some other day' is everyday henceforth.

a future with price by your sides. beyond just the field. the bite in your supple existence. spice supporting anise and jasmine, some aphrodisiac blend that'll carry you through to the end of your lives, happy. sated. a mediator. commander. captain. his captain.

"that's a good boy."

he could really get used to this.

#unedited! #this idea's been over my ass like a symbiote #cackling and rubbing its greedy little hands together #kyle 'gaz' garrick x reader x john price #kyle 'gaz' garrick x reader #john price x reader #john price x kyle garrick #pricegaz #kyle garrick #gaz garrick #captain join price #john price #x reader #female reader #call of duty