Tell me baby if I fuck you right,
Can I fuck forever?
He's fucking you, taking you apart and putting you together like his life depended on it. You're a sight under him, beautiful body covered in hickeys, sweat, cum—his and yours—and you're holding on to him, clawing at his back, legs shaking and barely holding on to his waist, he's fucking you so good.
Fuck, is this what it feels like? Pure fuckin' nirvana? He's hitting spots, holding and molding you in ways you didn't even know existed, bringing out so much more than moans and orgasms, making you goddamn addicted, and the bastard would be lying if he said you didn't have that same effect on him.
You say his name like a prayer, like a fuckin' prayer, and he thrusts harder, faster now, so close, so damn close, the crescendo of your moans music to his ears, warmth tightening around him, arms and legs keeping him in a vice grip, fuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK—
You cum. He does, too, but it ain't enough.
Not for you, sweetheart.
Gonna love you some more. He's gonna love you until you can't think of anything else. Until you can't think of anyone else but him.
He doesn't stop. He keeps going, keeps fucking you through the overstimulation, wanting to hear more of you, watching the tears of pleasure sit on those pretty lashes, fucking you—making love to you—like it's the last thing he'll ever do.
Say it, baby. Say it.
"Tell me you fuckin' love me," he begs, words slurred, lost to the pleasure, helplessly in love, and lost in you.
Would you ever write more about Kyle "Gaz" Garrick and his fwb girl? Like where she finds out he’s lying so she goes and fucks soap and gaz walks in or she just stops fucking with him all together
We should look more into fuck boy Kyle and his crazy fwb that he's leading in circles.
Previous
Pairing: K Garrick x reader and introducing my new baby daddy Mace.
You're not one for revenge fucking. But with the way the girl in the video is grinding up against your Kyle, you feel more than green with envy. Then again, he isn't really yours. He's for the streets, the pavement, and community dick as far as you're concerned. You had followed the profile 'Dawn Dish Insurgent' after figuring out it was his roommate Johnny. It was a private Instagram, and he didn't recognize you, and you were suddenly aware of how played you were.
"Fuck his boss." Your best friend told you. "You can probably get him to trick on you."
"Fuck the dude in the mask." Another friend suggested, "I bet his dick is bigger."
You wanted to, if for the sake of getting back at Kyle Garrick. But you didn't want to ruin his relationships with his friends in case you and him worked it out...fucking pathetic but you held out hope.
It was your aunt who laughed and said "Fuck someone who is better than him and make it known."
And fuck if the next guy wasn't better.
You met him at a bar while out with your friends. He introduced himself as Mace, just Mace, and that should have been your first red flag. He was tall, broad, dark, and handsome. Rugged in the way a man that is definitely bad news is. He wasn't covered in tattoos, but neat raised scars. When you traced your finger tips over them, he smiled over his glass of brown liquor and explained that they were crocodile scars.
"I have more in other places." The smile he gave you made you temporarily forget the whole point of why you were there, and that was to get your lick back.
The only lick back you ended up getting that night was Mace throwing your back out at your place. He was right. He did have the scars in other places. Across his chest, down his back, it was a fine gradient of scarred skin to smooth skin at his hips. His dick had practically impaled you and knocked the good sense from your head. Each kiss he left on your body was like being branded with fire.
And when he folded you in half, his hand gripping your neck and pressing down, he was at his worst. Whispering what had to be filth in whatever native tongue he spoke. His thumb kept your mouth open as he dropped a glob of his spit into your mouth and followed it with a kiss.
You felt possessed after that move. Your screams and cries of pleasure mixed with the chanting of his name. Ankles around his shoulder dangling uselessly as you gripped the sheets for dear life. When he finally came, he didn't pull out, he pressed his hips closer as close as possible to you.
"Ungowam ngoku." He grunted.
You didn't know what that meant, but you only nodded too tired to ask.
Kyle hadn't heard from his girl in three days. Normally, by now, she's blowing up his phone, sending messages, asking for him to carve out an hour at least to come by and fuck up her insides. He could have skinned Soap alive when he found out she had seen his Instagram and, by extension, the video of him with some girl dancing...in a not so appropriate way. It didn't matter. He would swing by her place with some flowers, and honestly, coupled with a few nice words, she'd be putty in his hands.
It takes longer than expected for the door to open after he knocks on it. When it swings open, you're standing there, in muscle tee and basketball shorts that he does not recognize. He doesn't wear muscle tees and finds them ridiculous for guys to wear them. You don't rush to hug him, pull him into a kiss despite the knowledge of him being with another woman. You lean against the door frame and stare blankly at him.
"Yes?" The way which there is no sweetness to your voice makes him wince a bit, and he knows he's probably in the dog house.
"Bae," he leans in to kiss you but is shocked when you turn your head and the kiss lands on your cheek. Oh, he really is in trouble, "I missed you."
You take in the flowers, regular run of the mill compared to what is sitting on both your vanity, living room, and kitchen table. "Did you now?" You scoff and roll your eyes so hard, it's amazing how they don't fall right out of your head.
"Yes, I did. Now, can I come in or-" He pauses dead in his sentence when the front door opens up a bit more. The anger is almost instantaneous, the heat of that and embarrassment swirling together at the sight of another man - shirtless no less - in his girl's house.
You feel absolutely smug and over the moon at how speechless Kyle suddenly is. Eyes wide as they flick between you and Mace. You fake concern in your voice, "Oh Kyle, meet Mace, my friend. He's in town for work and is just visiting." You glance at Mace with a loving smile, the kind you always give to Kyle, "Finish getting ready. When I'm done with this conversation, we can head out Sugar."
Mace keeps a very stoic face but nods his head, "Don't take too long." He gives Kyle one last look over before leaving.
"What the fuck?" Kyle hisses immediately, eyes narrowing. "What's this shit about? Why does my girl have some fuck in her house and wearing his clothes?"
"Your girl? Please, " you sigh, and there's an evil glint in your eyes when you say this, "Don't be weird about this. He's just a friend that's visiting." It's similar cadence and words that he's said to you before in the past.
There's a sick satisfaction swelling in your chest as you watch Kyle storm off. Flowers he got you tossed aside. You hope it's the same feeling inside of him that eats him alive that has bothered you non-stop.
Vanta Note: 👀 what next? Also special thanks to @umber-cinders for mentioning off handedly about the idea of Mace speaking Xhosa and a special thanks to @demothers-empty-blog for introducing me to Mace who on this blog will be called '#ego boy'
Jolting up, he looks around quickly, military training kicking in. He searches for any threats and, once he spots none, he relaxes, groaning as he rubs his face and rolls over to face you.
"Sug, what...?" He glanced at the time. 04:37. Jesus. "Why did you wake me up?"
You shift a bit, holding your phone. "I was hungry and was gonna order something. You want anything?"
He blinks at you, disbelief coating his face.
"... you goddamn big back bit– babe, darlin, it's four in the fucking morning. It's– it's stupid o'clock, and you wanna eat?" He asks incredulously, rubbing his face.
You just shrug, completely unashamed. "I woke up. My belly was cramping. And I felt weak. I wasn't about to fall back asleep.
"Now, do you want anything or no?"
Mace stared at the ceiling for a bit.
"... where you ordering from?"
Fifteen minutes later, Mace sits beside you in bed, lamps on, a towel set over his lap as he eats a burger with you. He shoots you an occasional mock-judgemental look as you eat three burgers and a large fries.
A/N: Written for January Jumble Scribbles. Prompt: “I actually watch her back and not her backside.”
Word Count: 247
The soldiers stationed at the SagDeg station received a ping on their visors indicating their updated assignments. The elite task-force was being split up into two parties to repel the invasion from the Andromedans.
"Of course the Captain chose Mace to go with her for the mission," Johnny rolls his eyes.
"I don't get it either," Lloyd concurs. "I'm the best fucking fighter here and she never chooses me for the sneaky stuff she does."
"I bet they're banging," Johnny snickers. "That's the only reason Captain Ice Queen doesn't choose better soldiers like me."
"They've gotta be," Lloyd jeers.
"Actually," Mace interrupts, "The reason she always picks me is because I actually watch her back and not her backside. You know the visors track where you look when you're on mission, right?"
The two other men freeze, realization hitting them like a tsunami. That and not wanting to get pulled from the mission for insubordination.
Mace makes no further comment and goes on to meet up with you. Inwardly he smiles. They don't need to know that the two of you actually are sleeping together. They can go through all of his records and they won't find a damn thing because he can compartmentalize and prioritize. As much as he enjoys seeing your backside, when he's in mission mode, it's be professional or you both could die.
But right now, the night before the deployment, he gets you all to himself. And he will treasure that time.
Ask about their manhood size Headcanon (Call of Duty)
Headcanon for my beloved masked men from Call of Duty. What are their sizes down there?
NSFW Content. MDNI.
Jackal
He hid his surprise under the mask when you asked the question about his private part. Not that he hates the question; he is just surprised...
Around 8 1/2 inches.
He has a shower-type cock. So you won't see much difference when he is soft and hard.
Same color as his skin.
Not clean-shaven, but also not bushy. Well-trimmed. It is for the sake of cleanliness, he claimed.
He is proud of his size. He believes that this is the perfect size to satisfy you.
Never, ever joke about his manhood. Because if you do, he will show you what this cock can do until dawn.
"Come on, try to keep up," would be the last thing you hear before you collapse in his arm.
Mace
He will just drag you to the nearest toilet and let you find out with your own eyes. Or hands.
Judging from your eyesight, that should be somewhere around 7-8 inches, give or take.
Trimmed, almost fully shaven.
What surprises you is that his cock also has a crocodile scar, similar to what he has on his body.
He would ask you if you wanted to feel how those scars worked inside. And luckily, your curiosity is likely to win over reason and logic this time.
Ghost
"Confidential," he said.
But if you insist on him enough, with some help from a shot of Baileys, he will give you a hint.
"Can you see a watch on my wrist? Flatten it. That is the exact same length as what I have down there."
Luckily, you and Simon have the same model of watch. So you just flatten it on the counter bar to see the answer.
Let's just say you are more than satisfied with the truth that has been revealed.
"Now that I tell you about my secret, you gotta tell me yours to," Ghost said shortly in a husky voice, but his eyes surely mean he looks for something more than just a typical secret from you.
Oh... you think you know where this is going now.
Nikto
"нет (No)" He answered coldly. And no matter how many times you beg, he will not answer.
Until one day, you find him naked in the locker room by accident.
It is neither that big nor that long, probably because it is soft now. So you think it is quite normal size.
But the main event is what happened after. You are not sure why, but probably because of his nervousness, his manhood suddenly grows—rapidly, tremendously.
6 inches total, with somewhere around 5–6 inches of girth. It might not be that long, but the girth is insanely huge. You wonder if someone would be able to take all of that in.
Now that he is fully erected, he has to find someone to take responsibility for this matter. And then his eyes were drawn to you.
"Take care of this now, сука (bitch)," Nikto said as he held his shaft that pointed directly to you.
How COD characters react to you admitting you've faked an Orgasm
Angst with minor fluff
Note: There are many reasons someone might fake an orgasm. Someone could not be in the mood anymore, feel uncomfortable in the environment, get tired, and several other reasons. That is what this fic is about, not about 'weak dick game'
Ghost:
•When you dropped that bomb on him he froze. He didn't move, speak, or even blink. He just sat there, staring at you. His mind is racing. He always felt like a Shitty partner and he feels like this proves it.
•Once he found his ability to move he only took a breath. Then after a few seconds took your hand and looked into your eyes. You try to explain your reasoning but he still felt like shit.
•Finally he mutters softly "Why didn't you tell me?" He genuinely feels heart broken that he left you unsatisfied and you didn't voice it to him sooner.
•He sits down and has a long discussion about the why and how. He wants to know how to be a better partner and to make sure you're always comfortable telling him if you need more from him.
Soap:
•He thinks you're joking at first. He makes comments like "yeah right, totally." But once he finds out you're telling him the truth he freaks out.
•He grabs you and and almost crys. He feels like a bad partner and tries to come up with ideas on how to make sure you're alway satisfied with him.
•Sex becomes very different. He's constantly changing positions and asking if he's doing this right. Everytime you two get intimate he seems nervous and tries to solely focus on you.
Price:
•Stunned by the news. He stamers and look embarrassed. He stares at you like you grew wings and flew away. You can tell he's trying to keep his cool but it's not working.
•He buys you multiple gifts ranging from flowers to vibrators. While he does this you notice sex becoming less frequent and when you do have sex he seems less in it.
•When you ask about it he finally breaks down and cries. He says he feels like he can't satisfy you anymore. "What kind of boyfriend/fiance/Husband am I if you have to fake it just so you don't make me feel bad!?" After a talk he kinda gets over it but he doesn't like talking about it.
Alejandro:
•He also thinks your joking at first, but after you tell him you're not lying he stares at you. He starts to curse in both English and Spanish and gets upset. He throws a plate at the wall before slumping on the kitchen counter.
•"Why did you wait to tell me, mi amor!?" He says while not looking at you. When you explain he's quiet. After a while he asks how to make it up to you.
•You bet your ass he's going to pamper and worship you in anyway you please. Makes you promise to tell him and never fake an orgasm again.
Roach:
•He immediately hugged you and nuzzled into your neck. He let's you explain why you faked it and understands that it wasn't his fault. He thanks you for telling him and keeps close to you for the rest of the day.
•The next time you guys had sex he made sure you came several time. He has a little bit of doubt when it comes to his performance but over all just happy you told his so you could work it out together.
Gaz:
•Freezes up and after a minute he's leaves the room to be by himself for a while. He goes over every Sexual encounter he's had with you to try and figure out the when and why.
•Once he thinks he's got it he comes back to talk to you. He wants to know how to make sure you're satisfied. He seems to move on pretty quickly. But everytime you have sex he confirms with you that you at least orgasmed once.
König:
•He stares at you in shock like a deer in headlights before running aways. He hides in his room and has a anxiety attack. He feels like a horrible partner. All that runs through his head is the idea that you're going to leave him for someone that always satisfys you. It shatters his heart to know that he, at some point, neglected your needs.
•Once he calms down a bit he finds you and begs you to let him make it up. "I'll do anything, Schatz! Please I can be better!" You try and comfort him be he won't stop until you tell him what you want and/or need. It doesn't even have to be sexual related, just something to ease his mind.
Rudy:
•Is in denial. He doesn't want to hear it but you notice he takes more time to focus on your pleasure. Or at least, more than before.
•It secretly eats at him for weeks. This has never happened to him before. Then he starts to spiral. What if this wasn't the first time, just the first time someone's told him about it...he dies inside just a little.
Mace:
•He takes a second to soak in that information then he holds you tightly. He kisses you jaw and calmly asks if he can make up for those unsatisfactory nights.
•If/when you agree he gives you the best head of your life. He stays down there for what seems like hours. He checks in on you and apologizes every once in a while.
•After words once you two are ready you guys talk about proper ways you satisfy you and make sure you feel loved.
Warnings: Space mission tension, flirting, suggestive banter
Words: 295 words
A/N: Entry for June Jukebox Scribbles over @societynsoelsscribbles
Prompt: June 7th - Jump (For My Love) - Pointer Sisters/ “Where no one’s ever gone before.”
The observation room was the only place on Icarus II where silence felt intentional.
Everywhere else hummed: vents, panels. In here, it was only dark glass, distant fire.. and Mace sitting close enough beside you that his shoulder almost touched yours.
Almost.
“You know,” He started eyes fixed on the impossible burn beyond the window, “statistically, this is a very romantic setting.”
You turned your head slowly. “We are on a suicide mission.”
“Romance loves urgency.”
“We are flying a bomb into the sun.” Men were so weird sometimes.
His mouth twitched, gold light cutting across the handsome line of his face. “Warm lighting.”
A laugh slipped out before you could stop it, small and startled in the quiet.
Mace looked pleased with himself, which made it worse.
“You’re not going to start flirting with me in space,” you scoffed, trying for stern and landing somewhere dangerously close to fond.
“Start?” His brows lifted. “That implies I haven’t been doing an excellent job already.”
“You have not.”
“I’m optimistic, considering the mission profile.”
You bumped his boot with yours. “Mace.”
“What?” He leaned back against the wall, arms folded, but there was something softer under the usual blunt edge. “We’re farther from Earth than anyone gets to be. Floating through the dark. Where no one’s ever gone before.. Well almost”
“And your thought is sex?”
“My thought,” he started, very seriously, “is that it’s going to be a long trip.”
You looked away first, because smiling felt like losing.
mace doesn't like waiting, he's not exactly patient, and sure as hell doesn't have the time, nor the patience, to be waiting ‘til you're ready.
at first, he listened and tried to obey your wishes — although, he didn't enjoy having to jerk off as compensation because you refused to allow him to take your precious virginity. he was sick of waiting, sexually frustrated and fantasising about your tight, unused pussy around his thick, warm cock, pulsating inside your drooling heat.
so, instead of waiting patiently and respectfully, he began to use other methods and techniques at breaking you in. first, it was manipulation; he had to get it into your stupid, little head, that what you were doing was unfair - i mean, don't you feel bad for poor mace? secondly, it was drugging you; slipping an aphrodisiac into your beer, getting infuriated when you instead excused yourself to the bathroom, rather than letting mace have what he desired and deserved.
although, after a couple drinks and aphrodisiacs, suddenly, you were intrigued and began to unfasten his leather belt, biting your bottom lip with heavy eyelids. you looked at him with a crooked smile on your face, giggling drunkenly as you slipped your panties to the side, sinking down onto his hardening cock, held firmly by you. mace's hands grabbed onto your waist, bouncing you up and down on his weeping shaft, whilst you cried at the stretch and pleasure washing over you.
poor, little thing... so confused and drunk, the feelings of pain, agony and delirium fucking with your head. :(
