kyle thinks he loves you like this, all ruined and dazed under him. there’s a faraway look in your eyes, and you’re barely present.
the only things you’re aware off are the way his hands are holding you up, one by the neck and the other on your waist, and he’s so fucking deep inside the plush of your walls, throbbing, you can feel him in your lungs because it burns when you try to breathe in.
you are hyperaware of the way your knees sink into the mattress, the way there’s a thin layer of sweat clinging to your skin, moreover you’re focused on the way his fingers dig into your skin, and it’s all too much.
you claw at his arms, begging him to move, but he doesn’t budge. kyle is enjoying this too much for his own good, the way your walls are clenching around has him losing his goddamn mind.
he pulls you even closer, until your back is pressed firmly against his chest, your spine is arched sinfully, which only presses his cock deeper against your core, tearing out a moan from your lips—one of kyle’s favourite sounds.
“patience, sweetheart.” he murmurs in your ear when you push back against him, begging him to move.
cw: mdni. fem reader. mirror sex, mean gaz. not proofread or edited.
a little different than my other recent posts, going back to my roots, smutty cod fics.
kyle was driving you crazy, the way his hands roamed your body with the absolute need to pull you closer to him, to destroy any space that dared you exist between the two of you.
the two of you sat naked in the middle of your bed, he pulled your back flush against his chest, your bodies pressing together, one hand on your hip and other on your neck, forcing you to look at the mirror, straight into his eyes as he stared at you. he looked no less than a predator, and you, his precious prey. all for him to devour tonight, laid down on a silver platter.
a broken sound left your lips when you felt him push into you with a swift motion, your hands finding purchase on his arms, nails scratching against his skin. his hands immediteplay wrapped around your torso, keeping you pressed against him as your back arched.
all your resolve had crumbled the moment he’d walked in the bedroom and saw the brand new mirror standing in front of your bed.
“fuck, baby.” he moaned against the skin of your neck, sucking, nipping, leaving marks all over.
you could feel him so impossibly deep in this position, you squirmed, signalling him to move, but he had other plans.
“be patient, yeah?” his deep, hoarse voice made your insides clench. he pressed a chaste kiss under your ear, before blowing on it, you shuddered at the sudden coldness.
he went back to leaving marks on your neck, shoulder, anywhere he could put his mouth. licking, sucking and blowing on it just to see you squirm and lose your composure.
taking his sweet time, he was all but devouring you, once satisfied with the trail of marks he had left along the expanse of your neck, he began leaving open mouth kisses below your jaw and you cried out in pleasure, throwing your head back into his chest.
he was being so, so unfair today.
“eyes on me,” one of his hands squeezed your cheeks, and you met this eyes through the mirror. he looked smug and proud of the way he’d reduced to nothing but whining mess in his arms, all for him to ruin. “be a good girl, won’t you?”
“do that for me, yeah?” you clenched at that, your walls tightening around him. he let out a dry chuckle at that, and you whined.
he continued his attack on your neck, his hands now moving up to play with your nipples, circling them with precise pressure. kyle had memorised all the ways you reacted to him and had no reason to not use them, god, he could just finish from this alone, slowly watching you loose your composure in his arms.
he wanted to consume you, mend his body to yours.
slowly, one of his hands reached between your legs and started caressing the soft skin of your thighs, terrifying close to where you needed him, and all you could do was desperately gaze at him through the mirror. you wanted to scream.
“kyle.” you begged, so utterly needy.
“yeah, sweetheart?” he answered with faux concern, his fingers gently kneeding the flesh on the inside of your thigh, your sticky juices coating his fingers. “anything you need, my love?”
you could feel your patience snapping at this mocking tone, you were about to object when his fingers found your clit and pinched it. you staggered forward with a squeal, as a jolt of pleasure ran down your spine.
once again, he pulled you flushed against his chest.
“feeling better?” his hot breath fanned your ear, and you nodded immediately, he snickered once again when he felt you clench around him.
snaking his arm around your throat, he forced you to stay upright as his hand wandered between your legs again, tracing painfully slow circles on your clit and you whined. you had been so utterly destroyed by the man behind you, you could barely focus on anything but the way his fingers pushed you closer to the edge.
and just when you were about to finish, he withdrew his fingers, leaving you feeling cold and empty. his hand moved from your waist and you felt yourself falling forward on the bed unable to keep your balance.
you cried out to him, in response he only pinned you back to his chest again.
“crying so soon?” he cooed, before licking the tears that ran down your cheeks. you hadn’t even noticed, so blinded by pleasure. “we haven’t even started, baby.”
you whined again, slumping against his chest, unable to form a proper response.
he started his ministrations again, playing with your clit but kept a firm on your lower abdomen, just above your core, it drove you crazy, the pleasure grew exponentially, and before you could realise, pleasure burned through you.
“fuck,” kyle couldn’t take his eyes off you as your legs shook and you came around him, he kept the consistent pressure on your lower tummy, and his fingers never faltered even as you began squirming in his arms, drawing out your orgasm longer than intended, and all you could do was sit there and lose yourself the mind numbing pleasure.
“just like that, love.” he pressed delicate kisses behind your ear. “doing so good for me.”
when he finally pulled his hand from between your legs, you entirely collapsed against him, still buzzing from the aftershocks of your climax. everything was blurry, you were so out of your mind, you barely felt the kisses kyle left on your shoulder.
a few moments pass, before you regain your footing. kyle is tracing comforting patters on your arms , you turn your face to his, pulling him in for a kiss without a second thought.
he doesn’t hesitate wrapping his hand around your throat once again, the other intertwining with your fingers. he deepened the kiss, pouring all he has to offer and he pushes his tongue inside as you gasp, his hands on your hips pulling you closer to him, you grind on him and feel him twitch inside you, warmth spread in your core once again at the loud groan that erupted in his throat.
you pulled away for a breather, but kyle wasn’t hvaing it, he couldn’t bear a single moment away from you, he chased you down, capturing your lips again in a searing kiss again, teeth knocking against yours and you chuckle at that. he pulls away with a wide grin, resting his head on your shoulder.
but all that is forgotten as soon kyle’s gaze falls on the mirror again, and your reflection. the way you look so positively ruined, hair sticking to your forehead, sweaty body leaning against his for balance, trying to catch your breath, the hazy look in your eyes and the way you bit your lip as you admire him. his jawline covered in light stubble, his disheveled hair and the crazed glint in his eyes.
he moves again with newfound determination, his one hand pins your arms to your back, and the other on your shoulder pulling your arched back to his chest. you yelp and the air is punched out of your lungs as you feel him reach impossibly deeper, moulding your insides to remember the shape his cock.
gaz insane doing all that while he was inside.
might write a pt3 idk (this is shorter than i intended) this man drives me crazy.
he is so criminally underrated like wdym, im a sucker for ghost but gaz makes me weak in knees. drooling at the thought of ghostgaz x reader actually.
It wasn't often that the team was attending something requiring them to wear their dress uniform. You had been with the team for a little more them half a year and in all this time it had never happened. That is, until today.
And when Gaz sees you he just... frizzed.
"That uniform..." He started, voice barely audible.
"Is ugly and out of date? I know. I keep asking to have a new one but you know how the army is with paperwork. If its not urgent, it might as well not existed." You sighed out.
"I would have said more... vintage." He said breathlessly. And very fucking sexy. but he wouldn't dare say that part out loud.
"You said you asked to have it changed?" He asked, swallowing thickly.
"Multiple times. Its almost as if they keep loosing the paperwork..."
And thank fucking God for that. He thought. For once he won't complains about the inefficiency of the military bureaucrats since their incompetence meant he was blessed with that heavenly sight.
"I swear, if you tolled me that thing was from the ww2 era, I would almost believe you. Bloody thing even came with its own garter belt..." You kept going on your little rent, oblivious to how many time he had to readjust his pants already.
"And all those medals?" He asked, trying is damn best not to moan out the question. God, why was seeing all those medals on you this fucking hot??
"All rightfully mine of course." You say proudly and the only thing he could think was: hot, hot, hot ,hot, hot...
"CanweskiptheceremonysoIcaneatyouout?" He blurted out extremely quickly.
"What?..."
"What?" He chuckled out nervously before you left out a sigh.
The sound of metal scraping against metal echoed through your tiny kitchen.
“Who the hell installs copper pipes and plastic joints?” Kyle muttered, his voice halfway swallowed by the cabinet. “Feels like sabotage.”
You sat cross-legged on the cool floor just beside him, your shoulder brushing the wooden cupboard as condensation dripped from your popsicle onto your thigh. His toolbox lay open nearby, screws and fittings scattered like candy.
“I told you it was leaking like crazy,” you said between licks, sticky sugar cooling your tongue.
“Didn’t know it was gonna be a whole plumbing mystery.”
You grinned. “Well, lucky me. I got Kyle ‘Fix-It-All’ Garrick on speed dial.”
That earned you a low laugh. “Don’t gas me. I’m sweatin’ bullets under here.”
And he was.
The summer air pressed in thick through the open windows, the faint hum of a fan doing nothing but pushing hot air in circles. The sticky heat of summer had your curls clinging to your cheeks, and your AC, bless its dying heart, had long since given up. The only breeze came from your screen door, and it smelled like heat and cut grass.
Your shirt stuck to your back, his shirt, technically, from a night he didn’t plan on staying over but ended up passed out on your couch anyway. You never gave it back.
Kyle glanced at you when you shifted your weight, the movement pulling the shirt higher on your thighs. You caught the flicker of his gaze, quick, instinctive. Then he dipped his head again, back under the sink.
“I heard you had words with someone in your class?” he prompted, as if trying to distract himself.
You let out a groan. “Don’t even get me started. Group project from hell. This guy literally ghosted me the day of the presentation. Left me to do the whole thing by myself.”
He let out a low whistle. “That’s mad.”
“I swear, if I ever see him again—”
“You’ll hit him with your PowerPoint clicker?”
You scoff out a laugh. “Damn right I will.”
He chuckled under his breath. “Dickhead move.”
“Right? Like—”
But your voice started to trail off. Not because you’d run out of rage. But because something else caught your attention.
He dove back under the sink, but you weren’t watching the pipes anymore.
His shirt clung to him with sweat, riding up slightly to expose his waist. The muscle. The curve of his spine. The soft trail of hair disappearing into the band of his jeans. Your eyes lingered longer than they should’ve. Your heart did a little skip when your gaze drifted lower, his fly straining slightly against the curve of him, his thighs tense as he adjusted position.
You swallowed.
Maybe the heat was getting to you.
Kyle’s voice snapped you out of it. “Almost got it,” he said, his tone rough from the exertion. He twisted something beneath the sink, biceps flexing as he leaned further in.
You looked away, heart thudding too loudly in your chest.
“I should be paying you for this,” you muttered, suddenly shy, biting at the tip of your popsicle.
He huffed. “You? Never.”
“Still… you didn’t have to come all the way over here.”
A beat of silence.
Then: “You called.”
The words were simple. Steady. And they rooted into you.
You peeked over at him again. He’d pulled back a bit to rest on his haunches, wiping his brow with the hem of his shirt. It lifted just enough to show more skin, more temptation.
And he saw you looking.
His eyes lingered on your bare legs, your parted lips, the popsicle you were gripping like it was suddenly fragile.
“Y’alright?” he asked, quieter now.
“Hot,” you said, meaning more than just the weather.
He nodded, like he understood.
“I’ll be done soon,” he said, voice low and thick.
You nodded too, unsure if you wanted him to hurry or never finish at all.
The silence stretched comfortable and electric.
Then he added, with a crooked half-smile, “Don’t suppose I’ll be gettin’ that shirt back anytime soon, yeah?”
You looked down at yourself, then up at him again. “Nope.”
His gaze softened. Something unspoken passed between you.
“Good,” he said.
And then he turned back toward the sink, leaving you dizzy and burning with all the things neither of you had yet to say.
Kyle was leaning against the door frame, just silently watching your snakes move and sometimes nip at your ears, when a thought popped up that wouldnt leave his head.
"love? How do you wash your hair er… snakes? I know how washday with dreads and afro hair works but snakes is a new level" one of the cheekier snakes on your head hissed in his direction as if to say ‚youll see someday‘
You were looking up now from the book you were reading.
"mhm? Oh I dont wash them in that sense. I just use clear water and a bit of scalp peeling and oil every once in a while. But when covered in blood?“, you sighed in mock exhaustion, „I have to scrub them one by one with a toothbrush. They love it even if its a pain for me. If i'd use shampoo and conditioner i’d waterboard those little guys‘, you ended, lovingly petting them now.
Gaz chuckled as he imagined you standing in front of a mirror, armed with a toothbrush and a head full of bloodied snakes.
„Next time you need help, call me. The little ones seem to like me enough to not bite straight after an op“
Cheeks heating up, you pushed a snake from your forehead. „thanks i’ll keep that in mind“, you mumbled with a sheepish smile.
Damn your snakes for showing favouritism.
Gaz couldnt wait til the next op. Hopefully it would be bloody enough.
Kyle is shocked to find you sniffling on the couch when he comes to visit. you don't yet live together but he pretty much frequents your little apartment, to the point he has a key and doesn't even text you before he comes over anymore. he is thinking about asking you to move in together but he doesn't wanna scare you off by moving too fast, so this is the best he can get right now. but finding you curled up on the couch wasn't what he was expecting. not one bit.
he makes his presence known with a soft 'hey, hey' as he sits down next to you, wrapping his arms around you to pull you in close. tucks your head against his chest, cradling you with a firm hand that doesn't give you any room to pull away if you wanted to. "what's the matter, baby?" he asks gently, fingers gently scratching the back of your head - but all that comes from your lips is a soft, heartbreaking sob. he frowns, holding you to his chest tighter, dipping his head to rest on top of yours. it takes a few minutes of just quietly soothing you, before he speaks again. "talk to me sweetheart. what can I do to make you feel better?"
"make me stop thinking.."
he stops for a moment and looks down to you. contemplates what you just said, makes a soft 'hm' sound, fingers still massaging your head. "just how do you want me to do that, angel?" he asks, his voice gentle. it's a sentence that usually falls from your lips when he's got his hands all over you, pinned down to the bed with him wearing your ankles as earrings, when he's balls deep inside you and trying to push deeper. surely thats not what you want now, right?
the way you look up at him tells him differently. the way your big, teary eyes look up at him, your wet eyelashes blinking up at him softly with your lips slightly parted and your cheeks hot. you don't wanna say it, you know how inappropriate it seems right now, how out of place the request is, how you shouldn't be asking this right now. but its all you can think of, the only way to make it stop for a bit. you've tried to help yourself out but it was no use, but now with him here? it might just work.
"are you sure?" he asks gently, cupping your cheek with one hand, thum rubbing over the damp skin and wiping a tear away. you nod, sniffling softly. he can't help but shake his head and chuckle in disbelief, letting his head hang down slightly. "you're truly something else baby." he gives you a gentle squeeze. "how do you need it?" the question makes you flustered.
"I.." you struggle to find the right words, almost scared it'll creep him out. "make me cry again.." it's the most appropriate way of asking you can think of right now, the least graphic and embarrassing. he raises his brows but nods, kissing your forehead.
"alright.. I can do that for you. I'll make you cry, angel." he winks, then stands up with you still in his arms, shifting you around so you're wrapping your legs around his waist, his hands groping your ass in order to hold you up against him. "hold on tight." he orders softly, carrying you into your bedroom. "anything you're really in the mood for today? or not at all?" he asks, kicking the door shut behind himself. you shake your head. "alright then.. you remember your safewords?" you nod, he smiles, kissing your cheek. "good. i love you, angel."
"thank you kyle."
its the last words that come out of your mouth before he dumps you onto the bed, making you yelp. you close your legs out of reflex, he clicks his tongue. "certainly not." his hands make quick process with forcing your thighs apart, delivering a sharp smack to the inside of each of them, making you wince. "keep 'em open or I'll make sure you do." he orders, his tone strict, his hands finding their way to your hips. you nod quickly, mumbling a soft apology, but before you can speak up he pushes his lips against yours, swallowing the words. hands slide under your shirt, gently caressing the skin for a moment - before cupping your tits and squeezing them harshly. "look at these.. y'know what i love about them?" you shake your head, his smirk widens as he pushes your shirt up, exposing them to the cold air of the room - suddenly delivering a harsh smack to one of them, making you cry out. "this. this is what i love about them." He delivers another, and another smack, making them jiggle as you writhe underneath him. he keeps going until you cover your chest with your arms, the slight swelling from the rough treatment already evident.
"aw, does it hurt too much already?" he grins, leaning down to kiss your neck, his hands fumbling to get your shirt fully off of you. "thought you wanted me to make you cry, you didn't change your mind already, did you?" you quickly shake your head, making him laugh. "don't worry, I'm just messing with you baby. I'm not stopping till you tell me too." He kisses your forehead, just to smack you across the face, making you gasp. his hand lingers there, soothing the burn and checking your reaction, happy to see you nuzzle into his hand. "thats my pretty angel." another smack lands on the same cheek before he sits up, opening the string of your sweatpants, taking them off slowly. he can't help but admire your form underneath him for a brief moment, only covered by your underwear now, the only thing separating him from what he really wants.
"God, I love you." the words are soft and gentle, not fitting his actions at all, but God, they hit the spot. he knows just what to say to you, just how to handle you, it makes you feel excited and giddy, despite your earlier emotions. his fingers hooked in the band of you underwear, pulling it down almost teasingly. "could always leave them right where they are, you know." he hums, thumbs grazing the fabric slightly. "can always just pull them aside, or give that little pussy a few smacks like this." you bite your lip, gripping the sheets tight, but he just laughs. "but where would the fun in that be? putting a damper on it and giving it protection that it doesnt deserve.. not that you'd want it anyway." he laughed at his own words, mean and mocking as he finally pulled the fabric off of you, leaving you bare.
"fuck.." he groaned. "its already fucking soaking. gonna ruin the sheets if you keep it up." he scolds - you're not sure whether he's talking to you or you cunt - before bringing the back of his hands down hard on it. you cry out and jump, closing your legs, not from pain but from surprise; but he isn't having that. Kyle grabs your thighs quickly, pulling you closer before forcing them open, shifting around to pin them down with his knees. you gasp as he puts his weight on them, squirming and panting, flinching as he lifts his hand to bring his knuckles down on it again, and again, and again. he keeps it up, making it swell and jiggle, his knuckles already sticky with your slick as he makes you writhe and try to wind out of his grip.
tears start dwelling up in your eyes, you throw your head to the side with a soft sob - not realising that his free hand is fiddling with his pants. you can only gasp as he pushes himself inside you in one go, pussy aching from being smacked by him for so long. he keeps pushing, forcing himself in until his tip gives your cervix a rough kiss, making the tears spill over and roll down your cheeks; all he does is smile.
"there we go.. that's what I like to see." he coos, thrusting slowly the first few times, leaning over you now. his knees are still on your thighs, one hand propping him up next to your head, the other cupping your cheek gently. "good job baby.. let those big feelings out.." he slaps you across the face again, using it to distract you from the change in rhythm. his hips slap down against yours with a fast, deep pace, balls smacking against your ass with each thrust while you cry harder. Kyle can't help but smile down at you as he hears your sobs, getting louder every time he hits your cervix again. "there we go.. that's my baby.. letting go is so easy like that, huh?" he chuckled, pushing some hair out of your face before slapping your tits again. "next time you call me and let me fix it for you, alright? that's what I'm here for baby, fixing whatever you need me to.."
Out of all the 141 boys, Gaz is definitely the fuck boy. EVERYONE SAYS ITS SOAP. Look at that man, look at that man and tell me he has any fucking sense. That’s how he caught Ghost, cause only another person without any house training will put up with him.
Gaz is able to pull just about anyone he wants. He knows he’s pretty, but beyond that he’s charismatic and charming. And more than that, he’s not trying. It comes easy to him and it’s so genuine, too. And when he’s surrounded by try hard, macho military men who would rather get shot then have an emotional conversation, that gets him pretty far in the dating scene- and that’s not even necessarily including his squad.
He’s not overbearing, his voice has a smooth cadence that feels intimate without feeling creepy. He’s good at getting people talking without it feeling like he’s pulling teeth. And he seems really interested, asks good questions and has this rumbling laugh that sounds like it comes straight from his chest. Before you know it, you’re both in your own little world together and his hand is on your hip and when he asks if you can continue this somewhere else, you would be dumb to say no???
And he delivers, okay? He’s great at kissing, like, damn. He’s able to go with the flow depending on what his partner is feeling like. He takes care of your needs, repeatedly. He helps clean you up, holds you to his chest and you both come down together. Feels like true love shit.
And then he’s rolling out the bed and tugging his pants back over his ass. He’ll give you one more kiss and give you that sweet smile and swear that he’ll call, and he’s dipping out of your room without another word.
