Call of Duty Oneshots

Frolic in the Woods (Requested Zussman)

"I bet you can't!"

"I can outshoot you any day!" you stood up at the same time Zussman did.

"Mind if I take your daughter out for some target practice?" Zussman looked at your father and you swore his face lit up.

"Perhaps she'll hit you," your father made you giggle like a child. "No, I don't."

Robert Zussman smirked and led you out to the secondary garage, a big building filled with all sorts of tools and guns and dad stuff. You went straight for your old hunting rifle, resting a hand on it before Zussman could.

"That's cheating, we have to do something like this," he picked up your dad's old M1 Garland he'd had since World War 2.

"You've shot that before."

"I can swear to you, I never shot this one in my time of serving," he raised a hand and you slowly took the heavy gun from him.

"I don't know," you casually set it down.

As soon as you did, you were pinned up against the counter. Immediately, you looked up at Zussman's darkened face. His eyes held that distant want you experienced only a few times in your four months of dating.

Pressing his lips down on you, you felt his hips sway forwards into yours. With a groan, you lifted yourself onto the counter. Zussman gripped your legs, flicking his tongue skillfully onto the outside of your lips.

"Stop," you pulled away even though you really didn't want to. "Not here."

"You're right," he breathed. "How about that practice then?"

You made him carry the gun because you knew he'd be safer about it than you would. You, on the other hand, carried the targets to set up on trees. Since your parents owned a large cluster of land, you walked for a good mile before choosing a secluded spot with a safe backdrop.

"Perfect," Zussman helped you set up the five targets. "Am I going first or are you?"

"You can. I'll still beat you."

He smirked and then returned with you to the fallen tree the gun was resting against. You sat slightly behind him, watching as he loaded the gun and then narrowed down the sights.

"Iron sights are the best because you can see around you," Zussman spoke softly as he aimed at a target.

Flicking the trigger, two bullets went slightly left of the bullseye. You moved your dress so that it wouldn't get too dirty and moved forwards.

"My turn!"

"Fine," Zussman held the gun while you got into position.

"How's my form supposed to be again?" you taunted.

Zussman came down, his back against yours. A muscular arm held the gun tight in your hand while the other pressed the butt of the rifle deep into your shoulder.

You closed an eye and then shot twice. Examining the target from a distance, you noticed you were slightly high.

"You pulled."