#modern warfare reboot x reader

[sapchat]

I Have to Clean What?

Kyle Garrick x GN Reader No use of Y/N

This goes hand in hand with my ‘A Fucking Rat’ story I did for GPD’s May CoD writing challenge which you can read here!

Here’s Kyle learning to pet sit your horse! (Kyle would end up with someone who owns/leases a horse, he just screams horse bf/gf partner. Side note, you only actually have to clean these every 6-12 months and only when absolutely necessary.

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick x GN Reader     Fluff

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: I’m American so I use ‘thousand’ instead of… England terms. We talk about horse dick.

“Okay so it’s pretty basic, I mean you don’t really have to ride him, you can lunge him if you want. You’ve done both, granted I was here for it each time. It’s the same concept as then. But if you don’t ride him any, I’d at least lunge him, give him a quick wipe down like I’ve shown you then turn him loose in his paddock for a few hours.” You start telling him as you’re giving your horse Charley a thorough brush down. Kyle’s off to the side watching observantly as you do so, watching everything you do, as if he hasn’t watched you do this every time he joins you.

“Okay how about food? And what happens if he gets sick or anything and like… pukes?” He’s nervous as if he’s being left alone for the first time babysitting a child. It brings some enjoyment for if your relationship continues for future kids.

You give a small laugh, “Kyle, like I told you earlier, his feed schedule and info is on the little chart by his door, also if you think he’s sick, just call the vet. And if he pukes, then it’s… I don’t know what it would be, but horses can’t physically puke. So, if he somehow does, emphasis on call the vet. Granted Charley is also a dumbass and sometimes inhales his water and then coughs it up… so if he was drinking and then you think he puked, he’s likely fine.” You inform him, trying to ease his worries.

Kyle nods, and honestly you think if he had the choice of a note pad, he’d be taking notes. Like the good noodle he is. Such a good soldier. Charley, annoyed at the fact the attention has left him and turns to clack his teeth at the closest thing he can reach, that currently being Kyle.

The man makes a small noise at the thousand-pound animal and reaches a hand out to toy with his lips flickering at him. “Hey pal…” he mumbles playing with it, Charley’s head moving to bob up and down. “You get to be stuck with dad whilst mom leaves the country….” He tells him, as if he even knows what’s being said.

“You know if you don’t want to do this, or are… anxious to do this, I can just have one of the girls check in and take care of him…” You tell him, letting him know there’s nothing wrong with him waiting to take this step.

Kyle vehemently shakes his head, “No! It’s fine, it’ll give me something to do, plus give me time to bond with him. Besides, feel like this is the next step! Keep your pet alive and then we can… I don’t know start doing more things together with him.”

“Kyle dearie, you know you don’t have to take care of my horse for me for us to spend time together, you know that right?”

“Well, yeah… and I do spend time with you when you’re here already, but if I learn to do this, we can look about leasing my own horse, maybe even buying one… and then can spend even more time together.”

My god this man… the minute I’m able I’m sucking his dick.

“Figure helping here will let me get kinda an idea of what to expect.”

Dick is getting sucked.

“Kyle, you don’t have to do this to get a lease horse, or even buy one… And if that’s what you want to do, I’m happy to help, but if you think this is what it takes, then I guess I’m happy to help.” You tell him, it’s sweet he’s taking the time to do this to spend even more time with you.

In past relationships they’ve gotten pissy about the time you spend with your horse. Maybe it’s because he himself if gone for a few days to months at a time, so he knows what it’s like to be passionate about something.

“Okay, so feeding schedule is on his door, ride or lunge him, and I already know where his tack is in the room area place-“

“Tack room, but yes to everything so far.”

“After riding or lunging, give him a wipe down, I’ll make sure he’s cool before turning him into his little paddock area. Should I leave the back door to his stable open so he can come and go, or should I put him up before I head out?” Kyle continues, after your interruption and runs through the process, and then asks the question.

You sit for a second looking at Charley in the cross ties, “Uhh… check the weather. If it’s going to rain, or the temperature drops low put him up, the stables is heated but… there’s no brain cells in this massive head of his and he will sit outside in the rain or cold.” You inform, moving up to his head and giving his forehead some scritches as he chews on my shirt.

Kyle nods, “Gotcha, and his blanket if needed is also in the tack room?”

You smile at him, then walk over to Kyle, “He won’t need the blanket, it won’t be that cold, plus he still has some winter fur. Trust me, you’re thinking this is going to be the hardest thing ever, but he’s essentially a thousand puppy. He’ll he even plays chase. Don’t engage though he will win.”

Kyle gives a small laugh at that, moving to wrap his arms around you, “Any other way he can kill me?”

You blow a breath of air as you think, “Uh… hmm… you know how he likes nibbling on clothes? Well, his previous owner did warn that with men, he does like going straight for the crown jewels…”

Kyle sits for a second, as if taking that in. Tongue against his cheek as he kisses his teeth. “Okay… I’m going to find my old cup… And just never let his head be dick level.”

This causes a chuckle to be pulled out of you, “Yeah, the guy I bought him from was like ‘Urgh, by the way, he bites dicks.’ And I was like ‘well convenient for me, I’m not dating anyone!’ then turned out and ended up in a relationship.”

Kyle just gives his head a shake, “Okay anything else I need to do?”

You turn, placing your back to Kyle’s back as you lean into his arms, looking Charley over, then you see it. The… thing hanging from your horse as he sits relaxed in the crossties. “Uh… Can you bathe him for me at some point for me? Like a full body shampoo and hair wash, and don’t forget to like squeegee him off too?”

“Yeah, that’s an easy request. Does he have a skin care routine like me?” He asks, knowing you make fund of him for how good his skin looks.

You give a small snort especially because you know what you’re about to ask next will be fun. “Can you also clean his sheath? It’s due for a clean.” Your head tilts to look back at him for a second as you ask this, to see his reaction.

A confused look crosses his face, “His sheath?” He gives Charley a quick once over, trying to figure out what it may be.

You just nod, “His sheath. And he’ll know what’s happening when you take a wet rag to it and like… drop out.”

Kyle’s brain still seems to be making the connection, “Drop… out…?”

“Yeah. And the stuff for it is in the caddy that’s in my locker, and you’ll just get the rag super wet, and do a thorough cleaning.” You tell him, giving him a small motion with my hands to almost demonstrate the motion.

“Love… are you talking about his… um…” His head tilts almost as if he’s trying to figure out that’s what you are actually talking about.

“Yeah, I’m talking about his dick.”

“You’re asking me to clean his dick?”

“I’m asking if you would, I mean I can just do it when I get back, I guess.”

He gives a blink as an answer, still processing, “You have to clean their dicks?”

“You have to clean your dick.” You tell him, turning your head fully to look at him. Seeing the look on his face change from confusion to you don’t even know how to describe it.

“What about female horses? Do you have to clean their… areas?”

“No. Actually human women aren’t really supposed to, can introduce unhealthy bacteria. You knew that right? It’s important to me that you knew that already.”

“I… you… I have to clean what?” Kyle fully stops out, still seeming to try and connect the dots, even though he knows what it is you’re asking.

“Yes, dear I’m asking if you’ll clean his dick.” You finally turn to face him as you say it, ignoring whatever it is Charley is doing in the cross ties behind you. You place your hands on his chest, almost in an appeasing way, “It takes like… five minutes, it drops out of the sheath, you get the rag wet, throw some soap on it, lather it up then run the rag just… up and down him.”

“I’m starting to regret agreeing to pet sitting.”

I gave the horse such a backstory that it didn't need, not a specific breed, nor color, he's a gelding (no balls), his name is Charley, and his show name (the name he is registered under for showing) is Give a Charley Horse.

I'll eventually also do one for Johnny and John! :)

[omegapropaganda]

[gucci-ross]

These COD Y/n are not it!!

I’m tired of the barrack bunny stuff or the over exaggerated breasts and butts figure. AND saying she is a lieutenant around early 20s. That doesn’t make sense!!!

Girl- Gimme one y/n that makes people question about how old she is when she mentioned stuff she did in the 70s, 80s and 90s!!!

Mine [oc] is like that and have beef with Buses and electric cars.

I want Y/n to be like:

Y/n: Move your ass! What are you waiting around here for?! The bus!

———

Y/n: *smokes* i haven’t heard that song from Megadeth since they did an open performance for Dio…

Soap: how old are you again?

———

Laswell: I remember you got me to go to that party. Left me alone and shit.

Y/n: Hey! That got you to open up and meet your wife. I’m still bitter that you didn’t bring me to the honeymoon.

Laswell: You didn’t help.

Y/n: yes I did!

———

Gaz: Captain told me you got a tattoo.

Y/n: yeah *rolls up sleeve* here.

Gaz: not that one. You have another one.

Y/n: I’m not telling you, Kid.

Nik: *passing by* It’s a tramp stamp. That said Hugh Jackman.

Y/n: Bastard!!

Gaz: *wheezing*

———

Ghost: The Bus! It’s going to ram into the crowd!

Y/n: I never trust those things!

Soap: What?!

Y/n: shoot the wheels!

Soap: What?!

Y/n: Did I ask for driver to pull over?!Shoot the wheels damn it!!

———

Price: You would make a good captain.

Y/n: I would’ve been a terrible one.

Price: I know. *Chuckles*

———

Y/n: I need to be taken out.

Gaz: like on a date?

Y/n: No by a sniper.

Ghost: That’s one way to a man’s heart.

———

Gaz: you got kids?

Y/n: Yep. 2 boys.

Soap: wouldn’t mind looking after your wee lads if you croak…

Y/n: they’re in their 20s Soap. What do you mean croak? I’m old not that old.

Gaz: How old are you-

Y/n: Focus on the mission.

———

Y/n: Damn I can’t read this… *pulls out reading glasses from her vest pouch*

Price: *struggles to keep a straight face*

THATS WHAT I WANT!

[parkersbliss]

[local-crying-boy]

🅅🄻🄰🄳🄸🄼🄸🅁 🄼🄰🄺🄰🅁🄾🅅

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕜𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 - 𝔻𝕒𝕪 13

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚅𝚕𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚖𝚒𝚛 𝙼𝚊𝚔𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚟 𝚡 𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚝: 𝙳𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚢𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙳𝚊𝚌𝚛𝚢𝚙𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚒𝚊 (𝙾𝚋𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚕𝚢), 𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚍𝚎𝚐𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝: 974

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Translations:

понял? - Understood?

хорошая девочка - good girl

солдат - soldier

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Vladimir Makarov. The infamous Russian terrorist. Everyone who knew that man knew to think ten times over before they talk to him, watch their back with him, make sure to be on his good side.

Though, you were able to remain on the Commander’s good side no matter what. At first, people wondered why. Why was this one person able to get on Makarov’s nerves and not be yelled at, or punished, no matter what?

Well, there was a simple answer to that: the two of you were dating.

But you weren’t left unpunished, that was something Makarov made sure of. Even if his men didn’t see it, you weren’t let off so easily.

You first had reservations about dating your Commander, however, after some time, you realised that the authority that he had from commanding the Konni group, could be easily carried over to your relationship - just a little less harsh.

“Are you trying to humiliate me, hmm?” He questioned, his hands were pinning your wrists down to the desk he had you leaned against, his lips pressing against the back of your neck as he was buried his cock deep inside of you, pulling out and then slamming back into you with a grunt. “Undermining me in front of my own men.”

You gave him a quick shake of the head, panting as you tried your best to make coherent sentences, your eyes focused on the various different paper on the desk you were suddenly pinned to not moments ago. “No… no, of course not…”

“No?” He questioned, but he tutted, his hand trailing to the front of your neck, wrapping his fingers around it, squeezing lightly just to hear that pretty little moan from your lips. “Then why is it that you’ve been contradicting every decision I make?”

It had been an exaggeration, of course. But, really, it was an excuse just to get you in this position, ass planted against his abdomen with his cock deep inside of your pussy and his chest pressed against your back.

“I didn’t mean to-” you tried to explained, but was met with Vladimir’s quiet shush, his lips right by your ear as he did so, sending shivers down your spine.

“I’m your Commander.” He reminded, wet kisses travelling down your navel to your exposed collarbone, his hand that was holding your wrist down started to travel to your thigh. “You listen to me, понял?”

“Yes…” you whispered faintly, your breath hitching when you felt delicate touches on your thigh, his fingers that was caressing over the skin only going higher.

You wouldn’t even try and defend yourself now, you knew that, if you did, he would only prolong your organism, or he’d drag out more than he did the previous time, leaving you a shaking mess.

“Tell me you understand.” He growled, his fingers flexing around your neck as his lips pressed against your temple. His eyes were fixated on your figure, even if his face was closer to your hair, he loved to see how you fitted in his arms. Almost like a puzzle piece.

“I understand,” you whimpered under your breath, your hands were holding onto the wood so hard that they started to ache, but with a rougher thrust into your soaked pussy, after a loud moan, you added: “Commander…”

“хорошая девочка.” He praised, his index finger had pressed against your clit, causing you to let out a soft moan. It was barely anything. A light touch. A tease, really.

“Commander…” you mewled out, eyes squeezing shut as your felt yourself tightened around Makarov’s shaft.

“Ah, ah, солдат.” He tutted against, his hand squeezing your throat again. “Eyes open.”

You let out a small whine, taking a breath as your eyes opened again, finding somewhere for your eyes to fixate on while he fucked you.

A quiet ‘there you go…’ reached your ears, Makarov’s thumb gently rubbing the side of your neck, a stark contrast to how he had you in a harsh grasp.

The edge of the desk was digging into your skin, causing an uncomfortable sensation in your thighs, but mixed with how well Makarov could take you - cock buried inside deep and finger just lightly pressing against your clit - you were, ultimately, contradicted with sensations over your body.

“Oh, God… Vladimir….” You muttered, letting out a small whine, a shaking breath escaping your lips as your eyes started to water.

“You’re crying?” He mused quietly, a dark chuckle escaping his mouth. He tutted afterwards, thrusting deep inside of you. “Pathetic thing, no need to cry.”

You whimpered quietly, you were looking down at the desk, but your head was pulled up by Vladimir’s hand around your neck, causing you to let out a gasp.

“Maybe you’re right to cry,” he whispered in your ear, biting your earlobe. “Naughty girl like you, hm? Finally getting what you deserve?”

His thick cock thrusted inside of your tight, wet hole, his movements only getting faster, rougher. In the process, you got louder, cried and moans filling the room as you felt your pussy clamp around his member like a vice.

“You gonna come, солдат?” He asked, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine. “Hm? You gonna come around my cock? Go on then… cum for your Commander.”

He continued his relentless attack to your hole, grunting in your ear as he pushed his entirety of his length inside of you. You quivered and shook as tears started to stream down your cheeks, though the tears had seemed to make Makarov go even faster.

Your orgasm hit like a truck, a cry escaping your lips as you tensed up, Makarov’s hands tightening their already hard grasp. You heard his Russian accent, quiet ‘there you go’s and ‘that’s it’s meeting your ears.

He had slowed down, only to lean back into your ear. “I’m not done with you, солдат. You haven’t learnt yet, have you?”

“No, Commander…” you breathed out, your voice quiet and shaken.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Kinktober {2024} Masterlist

[lottielovelace]

technically

(Valeria Garza x Reader)

summary: You're working as KorTac's reserve medic on an assignment in Mexico, leading you to a "nameless" woman.

You don't know her name. You don't know what she's done and who she's killed. All you do know is that she is very dangerous, very powerful, and you're going to have to do surgery on her. In a bikini. No pressure!

Prior context if you haven't read the prior installments: Reader is König's long-lost half sister. Code name Prinzessin (Sinn for short). Recently graduated from Med school. There is more, but it's not relevant to this specific fic so I'll leave it unspoiled in case you end up reading the series. For people who have been following the series, Ghost x Reader is still endgame, but they aren't together yet and I think Reader's life shouldn't solely revolve around him. Plus she's going to go through the wringer later, so let her have some fun now. And in case it's not obvious, since this is in second person and you don't know Valeria's real name, you know her as Bravo-Three for most of this fic.

originally posted on ao3 (wordcount: 2.2k)

Rating: E

Relationships: Valeria Garza x Reader

Ao3 Tags: Improper Medical Procedure / Cunnilingus / Flirting / One Night Stands / (though actually more like a two night stand)

this is a part of a series

Many thanks to @xstanceh3x for beta-ing!

Technically, this was a work trip.

Only technically.

In everything but name, this was a reward. Your reward for graduating with flying colors: a trip to Mexico.

Now, technically, you were a reserve medic for König, Horangi, and their allies. But you weren’t working in the field—not yet at least. Instead of being in the thick of the action, you were nicely holed away in the villa of their contractor. Not half-bad.

Hell, so long as no one got hurt, it was a free vacation.

So of course midway through your pool lounging, your radio crackled with Horangi’s voice.

“Sinn, are you there? Over.”

“Loud and clear. Over”

“Bravo-Three got hit, I’m taking her to you.”

“How bad is it?”

“Stable, but needs immediate care. I could try taking the bullet out myself, but I figure your stitches will leave the smallest scars.”

“I’m not afraid of another cicatriz,” an accented voice drawled out. Bravo-Three. You didn’t know her name—it was redacted from the files assigned to you—but you knew her face. You’d been briefly introduced when you arrived at the house—her house. The files didn’t say it, but your brother privately divulged that she was the one bankrolling this entire operation.

She was beautiful, stunning in a way that kinda made you forget everything for a second (just enough time for her to gut you). She had a quiet confidence to her. If you looked close you noticed that, while lacking the bulk of her male compatriots, her frame was bound with muscle. Not that you’ve been staring at her, of course. 

Horangi made good time. You were barely able to get out your equipment before the elevator dinged.

Shit, you didn’t even have time to change. You hastily slapped on a mask and gloves. A bikini may be impractical, but so long as it was paired with other PPE, it wasn’t the end of the world.

Horangi stumbled in, Bravo-Three leaning on him. He gently deposited her on the sofa. Her forehead was slick with sweat, messing up her normally immaculate hair.

“This is your medic?” Bravo-Three sneered through gritted teeth.

“Graduated top of her class,” Horangi reassured.

You smiled at her, “I would offer my hand, but I think it’s best for the both of us that these gloves remain sterilized.”

Bravo-Three’s eyes traced your attire with an unimpressed eyebrow but an appreciative gaze.

“I see you have proper scrubs on.”

“Well you did catch me a little off guard.”

“You should be better,” Bravo-Three reprimanded. “This is a job, not a vacation.”

Her tone was firm, but she was not being nearly as harsh as she could be. You remembered overhearing her dress down a subordinate last night (something about some “product” being missing, you weren’t sure, you didn’t speak Spanish). It’d been terrifying (and a little exhilarating). Bravo-Three could be very cruel and very scary when she wanted to be. This was neither. Maybe she had a soft spot for you. Or maybe she was just taking pity on you (or the piss).

“If you want me to change, I’ll change. But I would rather treat this wound immediately.”

“Fine,” the woman relented, a shark’s smile emerging on her face. “At least it’s a nice view.”

You couldn’t stop your blush. You know she saw.

She takes the bullet extraction like a champ, barely wincing as the forceps pull the metal out. It lands onto the living room ashtray with what feels like a deafening clatter.

Changing your gloves, you allow yourself to breathe. Step one down.

Antiseptic in hand, you cleaned her wound before beginning to suture. Even though you were scared out of your mind, your hands didn’t shake. You were too well-trained and practiced for that. Still, your anxiety was noticeable.

“You’re nervous,” Bravo-Three all but purred.

“You’re kinda a big deal. I wouldn’t want to screw it up.”

“I already told you, I’m no stranger to scars chula. No matter how big or small it ends up being, it will be in good company. As long as it heals, all is good.”

She pulled the neckline of her tank top down to give you a visual demonstration. You paused your work to look up and scold her for moving, only to be struck dumb by the sight of bare skin.

Tattoos and scars crisscrossed over her tanned skin. She still had her sports bra on—just as clothed as she would be in the gym—but something about this felt incredibly intimate. Maybe it was the way her dark eyes stared into your soul.

You bit your lip, forcing yourself to focus on the task at hand.

“Just don’t take it out on my brother and Horangi. No matter what happens, pay them in full.”

“Don’t worry, I keep my promises. How did you know, I’m—”

“Your body armor. It’s the good stuff.” A half-truth. You weren’t going to rat on your brother, and her body armor was expensive (your time at the KorTac base taught you that operators had THOUGHTS on armor brands and styles). “Done.”

She looked down at your handiwork.

“Not bad… Princesa, isn’t it?”

Your call sign rolled off her tongue in a way that made you shiver.

“Yes.”

“Nice, very nice.” The woman leant in. She looked even prettier up close. “You know, I don’t like being indebted. I ought to repay you.”

“You don’t need to do that,” your voice was breathless. “Just doing my job.”

“Let me thank you.” Her hand found its way to your waistband. It rested there like a promise. “Would you like me to show my gratitude?”

Want thrummed through you, but your tongue refused to comply—still shellshocked that someone like her would want you. You settled for a nod.

The woman sank to the ground.

You still didn’t know her name. You didn’t know what she’d done and who she’d killed. All you did know was the following three things:

She was dangerous. She was powerful. And she was on her knees for you, wanting to make you feel good.

She parted your legs with one hand, untying your bikini string with the other.

Her touch was gentle but firm. She had a job to do, she knew how to execute it, and she was damn well going to see it through.

You hated to interrupt her but, “Wait, what should I call you?”

“What do you know me as?”

“Bravo-Three.”

“And nothing else?"

“I’ve heard… whispers,” you conceded.

Bravo-Three looked up at you, intrigue now mixed with her lust. “Yes?”

“That you’re known as… the nameless one? I don’t know. I don’t speak Spanish. Either way it doesn’t really roll off the tongue, especially in the heat of… the moment.”

The woman thought about it for a moment, before deciding: “You can call me V.”

“V,” you tested the name on your lips. Clearly another pseudonym, but you didn’t mind that. It was yours to use for, yours alone.

You had only one more request before you surrendered yourself completely.

“V, please don’t tear your stitches.”

----------

She started with soft, little licks. Exploring the way your body reacted. Learning what made your breath hitch and insides clench. She didn’t want to break you, not yet at least.

As she began to get a feel for you and the way you… tick, her movements increased in both speed and confidence. You always prided yourself on being able to keep your mouth shut, but V had this… unpredictability to her that allowed her to pull moans and gasps and other little sounds from you with embarrassing ease.

The noise seemed to embolden her. But you know what they say about cockiness.

She’s skilled. Obviously. Undeniably talented and experienced. But slightly and frustratingly off target.

She’s so damn close to where you need her, but ever so off.

“Harder,” you moaned out.

V’s tongue didn't move. 

But after you add a desperate “Please”, her lips do.

With a jolt you realized that she was smirking. She knew damn well what you needed and was pointedly refusing.

You couldn’t help but let a groan of frustration slip out.

Fine. Guess you have to do it yourself.

You began grinding your hips, rocking her tongue into your cunt, riding her face .

V paused her gloating for a moment, reveling in your movements.

She made a muffled noise. It rumbled against your lips, tantalizing vibrations that only brought you closer to the edge. A laugh, you realized.

Teasing you was fun, but she’d had her fill of it.

Lifting you with ease, she pinned you against the wall—tongue still buried in you. Safely against something sturdy, she started writhing her tongue like a woman crazed. It’s intense, setting every nerve of yours ablaze. Scrambling, practically getting fucked silly, you reach for something— anything to steady yourself. Your hand winds up tangled in V’s beautiful locks, much to her apparent delight.

In the end it’s her canine—not biting, but instead—grazing against your clit that does you in. The shock of cool enamel, the reminder of danger, of the sharp teeth hidden in her plush mouth… your brain went numb.

Your head snapped back and for a second everything was blinding white. For a second you didn’t feel the wall behind you, or V’s grip on your waist, or her arms holding you up. All your body could even comprehend was euphoria.

When you finally came to, it’s to those same goddamn teeth, smiling at you through lips covered in your slick.

----------

You do end up having to redo her stitches. V has enough self control that they remained intact while she went down on you, but when you returned the favor she got… carried away. Arched a little too quickly and they reopened. When you said you wanted her gushing, that wasn’t what you meant.

“It’s a compliment, cariño,“ she reassured as you fixed her up again.

“Yeah, yeah.”

----------

“Well done, the wire transfer should process in two to three business days.”

“That’s good to hear.” Even though your absence perturbed Horangi, the fact that El Sin Nombre was walking around and discussing financial details—relaxed and fully stitched—was a good sign. “How did Sinn do?”

“Nicely. She’s very good with hands. Talented.”

He didn’t like the smug smile plastered on Valeria’s face.

“Where’s she now?”

“Resting. She worked hard. Very hard.”

Horangi thought about it for a moment before deciding, “I don’t need to know the details as long as she’s safe and on the flight home tomorrow.”

Valeria rolled her eyes.

“Yes sir.”

Her words held neither ire nor deference.

----------

You woke up to V’s voice. You groggily opened your eyes to find her on a phone call. Even though she didn’t seem angry with the caller, her voice was sharper than it ever was with you. This was business. Talking in rapid fire Spanish, you didn’t understand a lick of what she was saying—and judging from her ease at discussing such sensitive information with you present, she knew it.

You sat up, eyes still half lidded. At the sight of motion from you, V hung up, redirecting her full attention to you.

“Looks like someone’s a dormilona.” You groaned in response. “There’s some breakfast in the fridge.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“You had quite the appetite yesterday.”

“That’s not…” you began to nod off before a gentle nudge from V woke you up once more.

“Come on, I know something that’ll wake you up.”

She ends up leading you downstairs, dressed in her pajamas, still half asleep. You two wind up at a door. V barked something at the guards down the hall. After getting acknowledgement from them, she opened it and flicked on the lights. Blinking away, your eyes adjusted to the brightness revealing a private shooting range.

“What are—”

“I’m not a very popular woman. I have enemies, enemies who’d like to hurt me through any means possible. Even if I never see you again, you’re still in danger. I would like to ensure you can defend yourself.”

“You do care.”

“You have such a pretty face. I’d hate to see it ruined. Can you shoot?”

“Long distance yeah, close range no.”

Her eyebrow leapt.

“How’d that happen?”

“Sniping is a family tradition. Plus the boys aren’t the biggest fan of the idea of me being in close combat.”

“With a chica like you, it’s a matter of when, not if that will happen. You know how to load a gun?”

You demonstrated for her. She tsked.

“Needs to be faster. While you’re fumbling for a round, someone else will have unloaded one into you. But speed only comes with practice, which we have no time for right now. Though when you get home… Anyway, let’s see what you can do.”

You tried your best to get into position. The handgun’s weight felt so unfamiliar, center of gravity completely different.

“This isn’t sniping. You can’t wait for the perfect shot to align. You need to make do. Your enemies already see you. You won’t be giving your position away.”

Her hands made their way to you. One landed on your waist, the other on your shoulder. After she noticed that “Dios you’re stiff,” she let her lips rest in the crook of your neck, accompanied by a simple order: “Relax.”

BANG

Even with noise protection, the gunshot and its recoil were more than enough to wake you up.

“Not bad, cariño. Again. Faster.”

Several rounds later V declared, “I think that’s enough for today. You have a flight to catch. And you should probably shower, I don’t know how your brother would react to you coming home smelling of me.”

You smiled at her from under your eyelashes, “All by my lonesome?”V chuckled, “Eres una chica muy traviesa, ¿lo sabías?”

[oaksgrove]

Perfectly Imperfect

Pairing: Alex Keller x Insecure!Reader

Synopsis: When Alex Keller takes an interest in you, your insecurities make it hard to believe his intentions are genuine. As the walls you’ve built around your heart start to crumble, you realize love might be easier to accept than you thought.

Warning: Mentions of self-doubt and insecurity, fluff, supportive themes, slow-burn romance, mild emotional tension.

The whir of espresso machines and the faint clinking of mugs created a cocoon of warmth on the otherwise chilly day. You sat in the far corner by the window, your hands wrapped around a mug of coffee that had long gone lukewarm.

Your eyes darted to the door every few seconds, your heart doing an anxious somersault every time the bell chimed. Meeting Alex for coffee seemed innocent enough. He wasn’t intimidating in the traditional sense—his easy smile, laid-back attitude, and relentless sense of humor had a way of putting people at ease. But for you, Alex’s charm was the problem.

It had been weeks of him casually dropping by your office, finding excuses to talk to you after briefings, and—most shockingly—asking you out for coffee. You’d agreed, though the moment the words left your mouth, you questioned what on earth someone like Alex Keller could see in you.

Lost in thought, you almost missed the sound of the café door opening, but when the cold breeze hit your face, you glanced up. There he was, scanning the room until his eyes landed on you.

"Hey," he greeted as he approached, his voice warm and familiar. He was dressed casually in a leather jacket over a sweater, his sandy hair slightly tousled as though he’d just walked through a wind tunnel. He looked effortlessly handsome, of course.

"Hi," you managed to say, your voice quieter than you’d intended.

"Sorry I’m late," he said, sliding into the seat across from you. "Traffic was a nightmare."

You waved it off, giving him a small smile. "It’s fine. I wasn’t waiting long."

Alex tilted his head, studying you. His brows furrowed slightly, and his smile dimmed, just a bit. "You okay? You seem... quieter than usual."

"I’m fine, just... tired." you replied quickly, your voice softer than intended.

It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either. The real issue was the nagging voice in the back of your mind that kept telling you you weren’t enough.

Alex didn’t press, but his perceptive eyes lingered on you, and you could tell he wasn’t convinced. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms in a way that somehow still felt relaxed. “Good. I’d hate to think you weren’t happy to see me.”

Despite your nerves, you let out a soft laugh. “I’m not unhappy to see you.”

“Good,” he said again, flashing you a grin. “Because I’ve been looking forward to this.”

To your surprise, Alex made it easy to settle into the conversation. He was warm and engaging, filling the space with stories that ranged from funny to downright ridiculous.

“So there I was,” he said, gesturing animatedly, “dangling from a helicopter, trying to hold onto this ‘perfect coffee maker’ my buddy swore by. He’d convinced the whole team it was worth the hassle. And do you know what happened when we landed?”

You shook your head, already smiling at the absurdity. “What?”

“The damn thing broke,” Alex said, throwing his hands up. “Completely useless. I risked my neck for nothing.”

You laughed, a genuine sound that caught even you by surprise. For a moment, your nerves melted away under the warmth of his presence.

“You think I’m making it up, don’t you?” Alex teased, leaning forward slightly.

“I think you’re exaggerating,” You laughed, covering your mouth with your hand. 

“Cross my heart,” he said with a grin. “You can ask anyone who was there.”

The corners of your mouth twitched, but your laugh faded quickly as you caught him looking at you—really looking at you.

“What?” you asked, your voice small.

“Nothing,” he said, his tone soft. “Just... it’s good to see you laugh.”

You felt a blush creep up your neck and quickly looked down, playing with your mug.

As the minutes turned into an hour, the tension in your chest began to ease. Alex had a way of drawing you out, his easy humor and genuine interest making it impossible to stay closed off.

When the date ended, Alex insisted on walking you home. You’d protested, saying it wasn’t necessary, but he waved you off.

“Humor me,” he said with a lopsided grin.

The evening air was cool, the city’s lights casting a soft glow over the streets as the two of you strolled. Alex talked easily, filling the quiet with lighthearted banter, but you couldn’t shake the nagging voice in your head, as you neared your apartment, the doubts you’d managed to push aside began to creep back in.

“Thanks for walking me back,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

When you reached your building, you stopped at the entrance, turning to face him. “Why are you doing this?”

Alex blinked, caught off guard. “Doing what?”

“This,” you said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “The coffee, the walk, everything. Why me?”

His expression softened, and he took a small step closer. “Why not you?”

Your throat tightened, and you felt a lump form as you struggled to find the words. “I just... I don’t know. You’re... you’re you. And I’m... me.”

Alex blinked, clearly thrown by your response. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re charming, funny, smart, and so confident,” you said in a rush, your words tumbling out before you could stop them. “I’m none of those things. I don’t even know why you’re here.”

For a moment, Alex said nothing, his brows furrowing as he processed your words. Then, with deliberate care, he reached out and gently took your hands in his.

“Hey,” he said softly, his thumb brushing against your knuckles. “you’re wrong. You’re smart—smarter than you give yourself credit for. You’re kind, you’re funny, and you’ve got this quiet strength that blows me away every time I’m around you.”

Your eyes began to sting, and you bit your lip to keep it from trembling.

“And as for why I’m here,” Alex said, his voice softening further, “it’s because I want to be. Because you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met, and I’d be an idiot not to want to spend time with you.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks despite your best efforts to hold them back, and Alex reached up to gently wipe them away.

“You don’t have to be perfect,” he said. “Nobody is. But you’re perfect to me, and that’s what matters.”

You let out a shaky laugh, a mix of relief and disbelief washing over you. “How are you so good at this?”

He grinned, his boyish charm returning in full force. “CIA training, obviously.”

The laugh that bubbled up this time was genuine, and Alex’s smile widened at the sound.

“Can I come in?” he asked after a moment, his tone turning playful.

You nodded, stepping aside to let him in.

Later, as the two of you sat on the couch with cups of tea in hand, Alex reached over and laced his fingers through yours.

“You’re incredible,” he continued, his voice soft but firm. “And if I have to spend the rest of my life convincing you of that, I will.”

“Thanks for tonight,” you said quietly, glancing at Alex.

He turned to you, his smile warm. “Anytime.”

As Alex leaned back, still holding your hand, he grinned. “Hope you know you’re stuck with me now.” 

The warmth in his voice and the steady way he held your gaze made your chest ache with a strange mix of fear and hope.

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips was undeniable. “I guess I can live with that.”

He chuckled, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.“Good. Because I’m not letting you get rid of me.”

taglist:

@honestlymassivetrash

[harveywritings92]

R/n: I got a cute idea; you watch me climb a tree and I refuse to come down! :3

Ghost: Refuse to get down...or can't get down?

{R/n sends pic showing they're already in a tree.]

R/n: Can't.

Ghost: I'll be right there....

[italktoomuchxd]

You are supposed to be nothing to him….

You are supposed to be nothing to him. Nothing but a 2-dollar whore...

 

It was the end of the month when he was mostly tight with the money. He grabbed his jacket to go out to get a few drinks, nothing more.

 

Then he saw you wearing Nothing but a cheap skimpy dress and makeup, the smell of sugary smell coming from you... He looked at you, the disgusting sight of you; you were waving at the cars. He drove his motorcycle next to you and asked for your price, which was lower than average. He took you to a cheap hotel, got his job done, and left. He took your phone number just in case he needed a cheap relax again.

 

That cheap relaxation happens more and more at another cheap hotel or your home... not his home; he doesn’t let a cheap woman like you get into his home...

 

As time went by, he learned your interests, your age, your name, your eye color... your favorite food, how you like the smoke after sex, and which brand you smoke, he learned you never celebrated your birthday before... He took you out to celebrate that night.

 

Now he’s there, sitting at his office, writing his day off paper. He needs a vacation. soon…  He’s looking at honeymoon suits in hotels. Even though you two are not even dating yet... He’s buying the plane tickets... a box of Viagra... Oh, he can’t skip buying you some nicer clothes, eh? You can’t wear your clothes with him; that would be humiliating!

 

Now he’s there, sitting next to you on the plane, smiling at you because of how nervous you look...

 

He’s teaching you how to swim in the ocean...

 

He’s chuckling while tending your sunburns.

 

Oh, he fell for you. Oh no, he fell for you hard.

[nrdmssgs]

It's not that Nikolai doesn't see himself as a handsome rascal. Quite the opposite: he knows exactly how to present himself to make a particular someone weak in her knees. He notices every glance stolen, every breath hitched. And gods, does he abuse this knowledge.

But when he's like that? Exhausted by the heat of the night, having almost completely thrown off the covers, he wakes up with a groan and brushes stray strands of hair from his forehead. Only to meet her gaze wandering down his soft belly. A guilty gaze and a hungry one.

She must have worked on something, but the documents are lying on the desk, forgotten and abandoned. Lips parted and still wet after she must have licked them unconsciously.

"How many times do I need to tell you to wake me up whenever you need me?"

"What made you think, I needed you right now?"

She turns away. Almost. Because Nik is a rascal. At the last moment, his hand casually slides over the thin, light blanket and, as if by chance, presses it closer to his body, showing her his outlines.

Nikolai is used to keep calm about others attention. But when it comes to her - he always needs more of it. He stretches and covers eyes with his arm.

"Fucking tease." Her voice is so much closer.

The blanket is being pulled down and Nik grins.

"Your fucking tease."

"Mine."

I miss them like hell, I slowly cook the Matters epilogue, I promise.

[sinaminviv]

(Please reblog to keep alive!)

Setting: (AU, University, Graves is football team Captain)

*Graves swaggers over to your table at the library.*

Graves: I got somethin’ you can get a closer look at, darlin’. What’ya say ya put that book away and come study me?

Y/N: *Snorts a laugh* I don’t have a magnifying glass handy.

Graves: *Smirks and chuffs a laugh* You got a mouth on ya’, sugar. I approve. C’mon.

*He leans in just enough for his breath to ghost the hair by your ear.*

Graves: Don’t make me beg.

Y/N: Mm, I like the sound of that. *Quirks a cheeky eyebrow, waiting*

[sapchat]

Where do y'all think Nik's hanger is in MW3?

Cuz like the quick little backgrounds we see it looks kinda like the Swiss Alps... maybe even the Scandinavian Mountains? But I wanted everyone else's opinion on it

I'm also trying to like base if off of how long it might take a helicopter to get from like Sweden/Switzerland to like the Ukraine region since Verdansk is slightly based off of Donetsk, Ukraine

Like... this seems like to me, coming from my little American pea brain to be the Swiss Alps... either way its pretty as fuck and I wanna live there.

Fucking Simon just standing there

[benslittlestarkiller]

Violent Ends.

A Vladimir Makarov x Reader story.

”You dare to disrespect me?” His voice is a low growl. Rarely does he ever use it on you. It sends a shiver up and then down your spine. You feel a tingle deep within your core. An ache. One only he could fulfill.

Notes: I decided to write another Vladimir Makarov this time sending it to my bestie for editing so hopefully this one is better than the others. Please let me know if you want a part two ❤️‍🔥🥀

Your love affair had passed in a blur of passion. Like the winter winds of Russia your relationship was turbulent. FIlled with the most glorious ups and the most horrid downs. But you wouldn’t change a thing. He was a traditional man. He demanded respect from you, but he loved when you refused to give it easily. Like today, when you ignored his call for your presence in his office. 

A noise alerted you to his presents behind you. Without even looking at him your could feel the tension radiating off him in waves. Slowly you turned to face him and you could see it in his eyes.

Fury.

”I’m sorry, Vladdy.”

“Are you really?”

”Yes, of course—“

“Tell the truth!” He harshly grips your shoulders, jerking you towards him. “When I give you a command I expect you to listen!” 

“You're not the boss of me!” 

“Oh, but that is where you are mistaken. As your husband, I expect complete obedience—“

And then you made a mistake. You stuck out your tongue at him. Vladimir saw red. But not only was the red he saw the color of fury, but also hot desire, burning lust… fiery passion. 

He pushed you backwards until your booty collided with the wall behind you. So harshly did he push you that your contact with the wall sent a painting falling to the floor. Glass burst, scattering out along the wood grain in all directions.

”This is how you treat your tsar? After all he has done for you?” he hisses out. 

You look up at him, craning your neck and giving him exactly what he wants. Submission.

He descends down like a bird of pray, his teeth digging into your tender skin. He marks you there before descending lower, marking your collarbone before capturing your lips like the Red Army capturing Berlin on the 2nd of May in 1945.

"I do everything for you,” he says, his breath ghosting along your skin, raising goosiebumps in its wake. “I take you wherever you wish to go, I buy you everything you desire… and this is how you repay me. I should punish you.”

"Please, punish me,” you beg. “I deserve it.”

He lifts you up with his strong, sculpted arms, his muscles hardened from a lifetime in the military, evidence of the many battles he had won. You felt your coochie tighten at the sensation of his virile form pressing against your softer, feminine form. 

“Please,” you say again.

”Tell me what you want, baby girl,” he says. “Tell your Vladimir.”

”I… I want… you!”

He pressed his thigh against your most sensitive place, the place where you desired him most, the place only he had ever visited. Your coochie gushed with liquid desire for him and him alone.

His ministrations continued until you both were panting into each other’s mouths. The grunts escaping his lungs doused the fire burning in you with fuel. You were like a living samovar, your lust for Vladimir boiling over inside you.

He reached a hand down between the two of you as he did away with the barriers between you. Your clothes and his fell away like the Berlin Wall crumbling to pieces as it fell on the 9th of November in 1991. 

Sliding your panties aside, he pressed his cock against your dripping entrance. He pushed forward slowly, so that the onion dome-like head, akin to that of St. Basil’s Cathedral, was inserted. But then something terrible happened… nothing happened. Vladimir ceased moving altogether. 

“Vladdy!” you scolded. “What are you doing! Don’t stop!”

He smirked down at you. You went to slap his chest when he caught your hand with one of his much larger hands, the knuckles of his hands dusted with a light smattering of dark hair, the nails trimmed and filed neatly. He brought your hand down to the stem of his fat cock. Slowly you began to pump it like one wrings a wrag after washing dishes at the sink. Though doing dishes and other housework tasks was not something you were accustomed with. That was work for your servants, in particular your maid. 

Your dainty hand glided over the smooth skin of his virile penis. He grunted low in his chest, his head falling forward, forehead resting against your shoulder as his breaths escaped him in pants.

"Please, I need you," you said, attempting to pull him closer to you.

"N-Nyet," he grunted. "This is your punishment."

You whined out desperately but your hand did not cease pumpkin him. His cockhead remained plugging up your entrance as your juice seeped out of him. The movements of your hand grew in intensity, a distinct squelching sound filling the room. A cacophony of your moans and his grunts also filled the room, the heat between you heating up like the inside of a samovar as the tea inside bubbled hotly. 

You felt the twitches in his dick as it erupted, white hot seed filling your insides before Vladimir finally thrust forward, making sure to deposit the rest of it deeply inside you. 

After a moment, your breathing evened out, and he placed you back down on you feet. "This time, it will take, and I will bear you a son. An Heir to the Empire."

[mockerycrow]

Price x GN!Reader where you’re a demolitions expert. Why would they bring another demolitions expert when they have both Gaz and Soap, you may ask? Well, this order came straight from General Shepherd—because you’re a demolitions expert, specifically with gas bombs.

And Nova Six has made an appearance after a long, long hiatus.

[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

Time for bit of fun? 🤭NsFW if you are keen.

I loved that render of Nikolai in armchair render from a while ago so much.. And it inspired me to write the Nik x Mini wedding night. Soooo from one of the scene.. Mini kneeling between his legs and.. Ahem, servicing him??

Thank you :D

Ok here goes my first attempt at suggestive NSFW...

...

I'm a fucking liar, I just haven't posted any. The things I've done would make peepaw Price blush

I'm putting it under a cut just in case lol, I hope you like it love.

Also, disclaimer: this is not a Nikolai faithful model as I haven't found any, is just a lookalike that @sofasoap likes enough to want to 'play'

[applbottmjeens]

I DREW MAKAROV INBETWEEN SOME THIGHS.

Villain head game strong. I promised, and now I deliver. I am also very sorry.