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mockerycrow · 1 month

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ON MY MIND (Roommate!Gaz x GN!Reader)

roommate!gaz masterlist

summary; you wear kyle’s hoodie and he’s forced to confront some suppressed emotions.

[WARNINGS; gaz is a smoker & is emotionally weary, fluff!]

“Kyle!”

His head tilts a bit from the call of his name, muffled and frustrated. His eyes focused on the glass plate in his hand, his other hand scrubbing the thing with an overly-used sponge. “Yeah?” He calls back, only turning his head by his left shoulder a tad bit so you can hear him better as he’s assuming you’re not near the kitchen.

Kyle hears you shuffling around, your shoes scuffing against the floorboards. You don’t respond for a second, but Kyle knows you’re focused on.. Whatever you were doing. He puts the soapy plate in the other side of the sink in the next tub, reaching for the next dish. However, his sleeve slips down his arm a bit, getting wet and soapy. “Ah..” He cringes out loud, his lips pulling uncomfortably as he uses two fingers to tug the now wet sleeve back into place.

Kyle hears your footsteps approach from the next room, causing him to tilt his body so he can keep his wet hands over the sink whilst also looking at you. You enter the room with a frustrated look upon your face, your eyebrows furrowed and your lip curled ever so slightly curled. Kyle chuckles, unable to help himself at how pathetic you look at the moment and he knows it’s not over anything important. “What’s wrong?” He murmurs, already amused.

You’re holding up one of Kyle’s hoodies, one the ones that has his last name sprawled across the back. He blinks for a moment before you begin to speak. “I gotta run to the corner store real quick and all of my hoodies are still damp in the dryer,” You exclaim, putting the hoodie down a bit so you can look at him. “Do you mind if I wear your hoodie to walk down there?”

Kyle’s lips purse for a moment, a weird sensation manifesting in his chest cavity as he thinks about wearing his hoodie. “Go ahead, don’t need you getting sick, yeah?” Kyle utters as he turns back to the sink, pinching the front of his shirt and pulling it from his chest as if it’ll ease the sensation. “Sick! Thanks, Kyle. You want anything?” You ask, quickly pulling the hoodie on, adjusting the sleeves.

Kyle’s back is to you as he grabs another dish, mindlessly cleaning it. “‘Course, sweetness. Grab me some crisps, won’t you?” He says, putting the.. clean(?) dish into the other side of the sink on top of the soapy plate. “Yep, I got it. Bye, Ky!”

The door shuts.

Kyle blinks, staring at the soapy water with the tightness in his chest remaining, even after your exit. He sighs slowly, pushing his thumbs into the corners of his eyes—then he shouts, because now soap is in his eyes. “Shitshit—” He hisses, quickly turning on the faucet to wash his eyes out.

Kyle never asked for his hoodie back—a part of him expected for it to appear folded on his bed, washed and taken care of and the other part wished he never saw it again except for you wearing it. You always seemed to lose your hoodies after that, or you went through your collection much faster than you previously had. Neither of you pointed it out, especially Kyle. He was quite alright with a couple of his hoodies disappearing conveniently right at the times you were planning on leaving for a store, or just an outing in general.

Something sickly sweet twists in Kyle’s gut when he sees you wearing his hoodie. It’s something clawing at his insides, gnawing at his bones—energy that makes him want to bash his head into the wall and he isn’t completely understanding why. The second he sees you wearing one of his hoodies, especially the ones with his name on it.. It’s like a little feral squirrel in his body goes wild.

Kyle turns in his bed, groaning softly as he rubs his hand over his face, trying to focus on the coolness of his sheets as he rolls over. He thinks about Soap and Price, thinking about the night where you embarrassed him in front of his mates. Kyle stares into the darkness of his room as he thinks about how proud you seemed to be after making them laugh—how you seemed to beam at him after sharing a reassuring look.

“Bloody hell.” Kyle mumbles, his words muffled as he turns his face against the warm of his pillow, his breathing harsh for a moment. A pleasant warmth trickles into his chest as he thinks about his missing hoodies. How he isn’t able to help the giddy smile on his face when he sees you walk through the door, coming home wearing something with his name on it. His. His. His.

Kyle lifts himself from his bed, grunting as his feet hit the cold floor. He patters across the floor, quietly exiting his bedroom. Kyle’s heart thumps harshly against his chest. He shakes his head and gently slaps his cheeks as he walks down the hall towards the living room and kitchen, trying to rid himself of these thoughts—of thinking of you like that. He pauses for a moment when he hears the television on, playing at a low volume. Kyle slows his footsteps as he makes his way past the hall, coming into the living room.

The television is gently illuminating the room and he hears you before he sees you. You’re sleeping on the couch, your favorite blanket sprawled across your lap, your back and head supported by the stupid throw pillows Kyle insisted that you two needed for the couch. Your head is tilted down in a position that looks slightly uncomfortable, your lips parted—wearing his hoodie.

Kyle stares for a minute, his eyes softening as he leans forward, his fingers gentle as he takes your head in his hands and slowly but surely, adjusts the positioning of your head. Kyle watches the way your eyebrows furrow for a moment, your lips pressing back together closed. His lips twitch into a soft smile as he watches you shift in your sleep, your face leaning more into his palm.

Kyle’s heart stops for just a second before he brushes the pad of his thumb against your cheekbone, your skin hot under his touch. So warm and full of life.

His chest tightens again and Kyle carefully pulls his hand away from you, his feet quick as he grabs his cigarettes and lighter from the counter near the backdoor, escaping out the back to forget about what his feelings truly mean.

🏷️; @kivino @mlmxreader @soapybutt17 @microwavedcheetos @frazie99 @narcolepticduck @ch3rrykoolaid @kimdiedlater @glossysoap @thisuserloveshalloween @ornateorchid @missborntodiex @indefenseofkara @lieutenantlashfaz @queen-leviathan @specter319 @theunplannedvariable @spacelia @1117sblog @snoowply @dumb-fawkin-bitch @abigatorchomp @s8nsbride @talooolalolla @sstormyskyess @spicyspicyliving @nyushkawritesstuff

this is from my overall taglist which you can find here. if you would like there to be a roommate!gaz taglist, comment below! mistakenly tagged/wrongly tagged? let me know, no hard feelings.

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tfmerc · 2 months

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What I imagine your camera roll looks like if you’re in a relationship with… Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick <3

fem version!! … pls send in requests of who’d you’d like next, im also open to writing blurbs!!

more bellow the cut :3

#kyle gaz garrick #gaz mw2 #gaz mw3 #gaz mwii #kyle garrick #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz x you #gaz garrick #kyle gaz smut #call of duty mw2 #call of duty #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #mw2

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meowpupp · 5 months

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i don’t think people realise how confident gaz is. he has such BDE. and he’s such a smartass???? but so respectful??? honesty, all the cod men are great and i get the appeal, but if we’re being real, Gaz would be the best one suited for a relationship. he’d ADORE his partner, send them stupid texts of cats n shit, be your parents best friend. he’d be the one who gets invited to christmas before you do, the one your mum asks about when you call her.

gaz is genuinely so underrated. i wish i could write for him more, but i genuinely have no ideas. the others, i can imagine all sorts of gross freaky shit because i feel like they have it in them.

but gaz? nah. he’s the type to be doing face masks with your little sister, or teaching your little brother football. he’s the type to kiss your forehead and say “yes maam” whenever you tell him to do anything, bring your mum flowers when you visit your parents.

HE IS BOYFRIEND. HES THE DEFINITION

#playing the mw2 campaign and getting brain rot #i have over 300hrs in this game #top 1% of players #I LOVE HIM #kyle gaz garrick #gaz mw2 #gaz mwii #mw2 gaz #kyle gaz smut #estelle talks #mw2

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minkei · 6 months

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Leyendecker Study of my favorite military man ever 🫶🫶

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konigsblog · 2 months

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What do you think gaz’s favorite sex position? :))

doggy style, and cow girl (?) perhaps... ;3

i know he's an ass man, absolutely adores seeing your ass, groping it and kneading it between his scarred fingers, the flesh spilling from his hands. he'll watch you bounce against his broad hips, grinding down against him, your cunny wet and slicken, stuffed full with his veiny, hard dick!

during doggy, he'll have his muscular chest pressed against your back, firmly holding your hips, sucking hickeys and sloppy kisses down your collarbone and shoulder, or onto your bare neck. otherwise, he'll be leaning back and admiring the way your slick, tight walls grip his shaft, biting his bottom lip before cumming all over your back, his hot and wet load running down your ass.

whenever he's feeling rougher or in need to let out some frustration, he'll spit between your ass cheeks, grunting hoarsely and quietly as he pulsates inside your tight asshole, fucking you harder than usual !! you'll have him cumming in minutes, dove... absolutely loves all ass sizes, and would use it as a pillow, honestly... 💗

#orla speaks #gaz x female reader #gaz x you #gaz x reader #gaz x y/n #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz call of duty #kyle garrick cod #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick #gaz mw2 #gaz garrick x reader #gaz cod #gaz modern warfare #gaz mw3 #gaz mwii

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kkvqwrites · 1 year

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You Flinched | 141 Headcannons

Don't mind me, just some 141 boys reacting to finding out reader has a history of abuse or DV. We all know that our boys would never harm a loved one, but I began thinking about them responding to their loved one being triggered. Because trauma isn't rational.

CW: DV mentioned/alluded to (not on-screen), trauma

Characters: Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, John Price, gn!reader

Word Count: 2,833

A/N: Yes this is self-indulgent because I have my own history and use my comfort characters to help. So I hope it can help someone else in the same way it helps me. Also forgive me, I threw it together on a whim and didn't really edit it.

Simon "GHOST" Riley

Simon is usually very careful with how he presents. He knows he's big, he knows he's intimidating, and most of all he knows what it's like to be vulnerable and scared of someone bigger than you. He knows when to use his voice/stature to his advantage (like on the battlefield) vs when to tone it down (like in private). He never wants to be scary to those he loves, ever. In fact, he wants his loved ones to have the opposite experience from what he had growing up.

That said, we all have our moments. It was, you both could admit, a silly argument over what ended up amounting to a non-issue. He was fresh back from the field and sleep-deprived and you had had a long shitty day and so a small disagreement became an argument. Somewhere in the bickering Simon decided he was over it. He stood, crumpling the paper he was holding into a fist and raising his voice, which he almost never did.

The combination of the fist and the yelling was what did it. He stood up so tall, so fast, and suddenly you were eight again, hiding in the cupboards and terrified to make a sound. Not knowing what would happen if you were found, but knowing for certain it wouldn't be good. When your parents went into their rages, there was nothing to do but hide and wait it out. As if reciting a dance you knew by heart, you shrank back, hands coming up defensively.

Simon noticed instantly, despite your best attempts to play it off. He knew all too well the look of a terrorized inner child and recognized it immediately in your pale face and shrinking posture. It broke his heart; he immediately regretted lashing out as it was, but this was even worse.

He'd step back, giving you space. He'd ask permission before approaching you and before hugging you, and once you gave it you'd be wrapped in an embrace that was both tender and hard as steel. He'd hold you for a long time, not saying anything. If you cracked and it all came spilling out, he'd listen intently. If you didn't want to talk about it, he'd respect it and not breathe a word about it until you were ready. You could feel in his heartbeat his need to make you feel safe warring with his desire to find whoever made you afraid and teach them a lesson about fear.

Simon is a man of actions, not words, and he's never been a fan of "sorry" and instead prefers follow-through. Now, though, the word poured from his lips. Wrapping your arms around him in return, you forgave him wordlessly.

The next free time you both had, he'd surprise you by taking you to a shooting range. Another weekend, he'd teach you basic knife skills and how to throw a decent punch. If questioned, he'd say it was something he'd been meaning to do for a while with a dismissive shrug. But you had a hunch, even if he couldn't or wouldn't verbalize it, that he was sharing with you the ways he'd learned to overcome feeling powerless when he was younger. By learning to defend and fight back, you could take your agency back and walk into the world unafraid. It didn't matter that he'd grind anyone who bothered you into dust, because it was about you and making you feel empowered. Simon wasn't one to give you bouquets of flowers and poems, but he could give you this. And, slowly but surely, it started to work.

John "SOAP" Mactavish

You and Johnny were out with some mutual friends at the pub one night, drinking and having fun. Your boisterous Scotsman was ever the social butterfly, and he never failed to bring the party wherever he went.

You and a friend were laughing at something on your phone, and when you handed it Johnny to show him, you froze as your eyes saw an unmistakable silhouette over his shoulder. You recovered quickly, sure that it was a mistake, but not quickly enough. Johnny's face went serious as he studied your expression, which was suddenly tense.

You'd play it off, not wanting to ruin the good vibe. You'd even double check to reassure yourself that it wasn't him, but your stomach would sink once you looked back. In a corner of the bar, nursing a glass of dark liquor, was your ex. He noticed you at the same time, and the eye contact made you feel sick.

At this, Johnny would take a look for himself, and would pick out the man eyeing you from across the bar right away. After giving the man a once-over, he'd turn back to you.

"Is that who I think it is?" You'd nod. You had told him bits and pieces of how your ex treated you, but left out the worst of it lest Johnny go on a rampage to defend your honor. He's loyal to a fault and would not take kindly to anyone mistreating people he cared about.

The unfortunate thing was, being special forces came with an ability to read people and situations, and your reaction to seeing your ex filled in the gaps well enough for Johnny to understand what wasn't being said. You were scared, and the man seemed to know it by the smug expression he wore as he stared at you.

Rather than cause a scene, as you had feared, Johnny scooted so he completely blocked your view of the other man (and the man's view of you via his broad shoulders). Seamlessly, he'd continue the conversation with the folks around you as if nothing was amiss, despite his hand never leaving your thigh in a move that was at once possessive and reassuring. You leaned into the touch, comforted by Johnny's presence and relieved that the situation had seemingly blown over.

A bit later, Johnny announced he was going to the bar to get another round for the table. On instinct, your gaze shot to where your ex had been sitting, but his seat was now empty. Breathing a sigh of relief, your eyes turned to follow Johnny through the room. You could never get tired of looking at him. It wasn't until he reached the bar and clapped a fellow patron on the shoulder that you realized the individual he was talking to wasn't the bartender, but your ex who had moved seats. Keeping his hand on the man's shoulder, Johnny struck up a conversation like a true natural.

Oh no.

You braced for a commotion, but Johnny's expression and body language stayed friendly and open. You couldn't hear what he was saying to the man, and if asked he'd tell you he was just introducing himself. But when he let go of your ex's shoulder and flagged down the bartender to order a drink, the other man threw some money onto the bar and all but ran out the door.

The place would become a frequent haunt for your friend group, but you'd never see your ex darken the doorstep again after Johnny's talk with him. Good riddance.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

You and Kyle had been going steady for a bit now, and you were excited to introduce him to your family. Well, most of your family. You didn't have a good relationship with your stepdad, and Kyle respected that it was a sore spot for you. He would never pry, but he could pick up on how your tone would change when your stepdad would come up in conversation, how your posture would change when your mom dragged him into the frame to say hello during your video chats.

A big family dinner was the perfect opportunity to introduce everyone to Kyle, and you were looking forward to it. Truly. You had a nice outfit picked out and Kyle bought some fancy wine to bring, hoping for a good first impression. He needn't have worried; your aunts and cousins all fawned over him, and your uncles were endlessly impressed by his stories from his job. Long story short, he was a hit.

He stayed by you all night, stroking the back of your hand with his thumb as he made conversation. At first, you chalked it up to being the new guy in the room, but the ease of his posture suggested he wasn't nervous. Rather, his frequent check-ins started to make it feel like his closeness was for your benefit. You were the one who was nervous, looking over your shoulder every few minutes praying you didn't see a certain face in the crowd. You loved your family, but get-togethers always came with a certain amount of anxiety. Every time your eyes strayed around the room, Kyle's followed, taking in the crowd. Even more frequently, you caught him sneaking glances at you, as if assessing if you were alright.

You were alright, until the front door opened and you heard a specific voice boom in greeting. Your mom and stepdad strode in, late as always, your mom carrying the casserole dish and your stepdad slapping a case of beer on the counter. Your demeanor changed immediately, shrinking yourself as if you could become invisible if you just hunched enough. It didn't work, of course, and they spotted you within seconds. Before you could react, Kyle was in front of you, placing himself between you and your parents with a smile and his hand out to shake.

"I'm Kyle, heard lots about you," he said neutrally, shaking hands with both of them. They turned to you, but Kyle spoke again. "How was the drive? Heard you had to come across that new expressway, have they finished that yet?"

It was like that the rest of the evening. Kyle remained an immovable barrier between you and your stepdad, keeping him engaged in conversation and unable to address you. You and your mom were able to slip away shortly to help set the table and catch up, and every time you snuck a glance at the men out of the corner of your eye, the view was the same: Kyle orienting himself as a physical wall, keeping you out of eyeshot. His body language was at-ease, his smile friendly enough, but his eyes were tight, not like they had been when talking with everyone else.

When everyone grabbed a seat, Kyle pulled a chair out for you before quickly stealing the spot next to you from your stepdad. You looked at him with gratitude and he squeezed your knee reassuringly under the table, all the while maintaining conversations with those around him as if nothing was amiss. If you hadn't already loved him, you certainly would have after that night.

Captain John Price

Ah, spring cleaning.

Well, it was November, but still. It's refreshing to get rid of old stuff and start anew, but it's also essential when you're combining two households. John had finally convinced you to move in with him, so the two of you were creating piles labeled "Keep" "Trash" and "Donate". Upon reaching the bottom of an old box labelled "Miscellaneous," you came upon something that had your stomach churning. Old records: Johnny Cash, the Sex Pistols, the Doors. You hadn't realized you had them, and you weren't particularly fond of who they belonged to.

You didn't realize you had frozen in place until John snapped you out of it, coming up behind you with a hand snaking around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder.

"Whatcha got, love?" He whistled when you showed him.

"The condition those are in, you could get a pretty penny. I didn't know you collected vinyl, I'd have bought a player."

"They're not... mine." You explained, as briefly as possible, that they were your ex's and must have gotten mixed up in your stuff when you split several years ago. He hummed in understanding.

"Right, then. To the garbage with it?"

It was the logical solution. He hadn't asked after them, so he must not miss them that badly. You would rather lie down in traffic than have any contact with him. But John's comment about their value stopped you from throwing them onto the "Trash" pile. Damn your too-kind heart, always causing problems.

It was easy enough to find your ex's contact info; you had changed your number after the split, he hadn't. Soon enough, you had agreed on a time for him to swing by and grab the stuff when he was free. The rest of moving made the days go by in a blur of organizing and unpacking and bickering over where the toaster should go and which wall to mount the TV on. That is, until you looked at your calendar and realized that it was today. This afternoon was the interaction you'd spent the week trying not to think about. You'd stepped around the box of his things all week, mentally blocking out why it was sitting in the front hall. You'd managed to stay busy, and bury your anxiety in the endless tasks that come with setting up a new home.

But time had run out, and in mere hours you were going to be face to face with someone you had once sworn never to see again. The realization made the room feel too small, made the air feel too warm, made you feel like you were suffocating. Suddenly you just had to get out.

"We need... yogurt." You blurted, walking too quickly and too loudly into the foyer to grab your keys.

"Yogurt? Right now?" John called from the kitchen.

"Yes, right now! For... for a recipe," you mustered, hoping you sounded convincing. This had been a mistake, a huge mistake, and your brain was screaming RUN! RUN! RUN! as loudly as it could. Hand on the doorknob, however, you froze. If you left, John would be here when your ex arrived. He'd answer the door, introduce himself, and hand off the items. Shouldn't that be ideal? No contact between you and him, simple and easy. But rather than provide relief, the thought made you sick to your stomach. It felt like a defiling almost, to think of him entering your new sanctuary and meeting the love you thought you'd never have. It felt wrong on every level, and your feet rooted to the spot in agreement.

"Still here, love?" John came into view, the book he'd been reading in hand, finger acting as a bookmark. "I was thinking, I could go if you wanted. Just text me what we need. Don't you have someone coming by?"

Yes - that's it, you thought. Have John go, get him away from here before he could arrive. You'd handle it on your own; you'd done it before.

Nodding, you stepped aside, slipping your shoes off next to the door. John put his book down and approached, taking your place and grabbing his keys off the hook. He turned to kiss your forehead, but stopped short and stared at you. He noticed for the first time that you were fidgety, as if anxious for him to leave when usually it was the exact opposite. His ever-observant eyes spent several seconds taking you in, and you knew as he asked the question that he already knew the answer.

"Everything alright?"

Of course it was! How silly to think otherwise! You began playing it off, the same way you had gotten so good at doing back when you and he were still together and your friends would ask you the same thing. Just hyper, just busy, just this, just that, always an excuse to avoid saying "I'm afraid." Afraid of what mood he'd be in, afraid of what awaited you when you two would be alone later. Fear you hadn't felt in a long time, but could feel now just as bone-deep as it had been back then. As if your body had stored it as muscle memory just in case this day came.

"Are you nervous about something?" It was another question you could tell he already knew the answer to, and you wanted to feel irked about it, but looking into those eyes you suddenly just felt tired. Tired of carrying the fear and the uncertainty alone. So you exhaled for a long time, and slowly told him exactly what you were nervous about.

It felt good to get it off your chest. Until now, no one had ever known the extent of what had gone on. You expected John to explode into some fit of hyper-masculine protectiveness like guys on TV, but he didn't. He listened to you talk, and then he nodded and sat on the couch, reopening his book on his lap.

"What are you doing?" You eyed him suspiciously, unable to believe that that was the end of the conversation.

"Well, I'm waiting right here. And when this lad knocks, I'm going to answer the door and have a little chat with him."

#who would have thought I'd get wordy writing about Price #it's my older man kink #can you tell the writer juices flowed as I kept writing #mwii headcannons #task force 141 #141 headcanons #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #price x reader #no use of y/n #ghost mwii #soap mwii #gaz mwii #price mwii

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cloudofbutterflies92 · 4 months

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The underdog

A little moodboard that was requested by @chloekistune on Gaz because he deserves so much love 😌💕

#GAZ MY BELOVED #I protect him #kyle gaz garrick #gaz cod #gaz call of duty #gaz mw2 #gaz #gaz mwii #gaz mw3 #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty modern warfare 3 #cod mw2 #cod mwiii #cod mw #cod mw3 #cod modern warfare

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141wh0re · 20 days

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Been A Day - Rough Gaz

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Creampie, Fingering, Rough Sex, P in V, Unprotected Sex, Cunnilingus, Spanking, Squirting, Dirty Talk

WC: 1.5k

Pairings: Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x CivilianFem Reader

AN: I should be doing homework, but instead, I'm performing my civic duty and offering my contribution to the Rough Gaz hc. <3 c;

-skelly

The front door opened and closed with a harsh slam. Gaz stepped through the doorway, his face hard set in frustration.

Everything about this last mission had gone to shit. Everyone involved barely made it out by the skin of their teeth, and their target got away.

Price called off the mission, thinking it best to get everyone home safe and refreshed to come back with a better plan of attack.

Gaz tossed his gear into the hall closet, ready to let out his pent up stress and frustration out and lose himself in his girlfriend's tight cunt.

His shoulders were tense in his black hoodie, his cap still sat atop his head, and his heavy boots remained on his feet as he pushed further into their flat.

There you stood at the island of the kitchen, dressed in one of Kyle's T-shirts and a pair of his boxers, a warm smile already gracing your lips as he entered the kitchen.

"Welcome home, love," you greeted cheerily, continuing to mix a bowl of brownie batter.

The corner of Kyle's lip threatened to tug in a grin. He said nothing as he stepped behind you, wrapping his strong arms around your waist and pulling your back flush to his front.

He buried his nose into the crook of your neck and inhaled deeply.

His cock was already swelling at the smell of your scent mixed with the lingering scent of him on your skin.

"Missed you, princess," he murmured hoarsely into your neck as his large hands slid under the material of your shirt, smoothing over the skin of your soft tummy and meaty hips, gliding up towards your breasts.

A deep groan reverberated through his chest against your back, sending chills down your spine. His full lips pressed firmly against the junction of your neck and shoulder, pressing a line of kisses up to your ear.

Your lips parted in a breathless sigh, leaning your head back on his shoulder to allow him better access to your neck.

"Missed you too, love," you moaned in response, melting in his hold.

Kyle's hands grew rougher, his frustration still very much present from the rough mission.

He slid one of his hands out from under your shirt, moving to grip the front of your throat, his strong fingers squeezed the sides of your throat.

"Kyle," you whined, pressing the curve of your ass against his hardening cock in the front of his jeans.

He growled in response, roughly pinching your nipple with his other hand, emitting another whine from your lips.

"Gotta get you nice and wet for me, princess," he growled hungrily into your neck, sucking possessive hickeys into the sensitive skin.

Warmth pooled low in your abdomen, slick already forming in the material of Kyle's boxers adorning your hips.

Without warning, Kyle pulled his hands from your throat and breast, and shoved the boxers down your legs before kneeling behind you.

He roughly pushed your top half down on the counter top, using a large palm between your shoulder blades.

You gasped when you felt Kyle's rough hands firmly grip the globes of your ass, groping and kneading them before landing harsh slaps on the flesh.

"Fuck.." he breathed out as he parted your cheeks, exposing your puckered hole and slit, arousal already coating the inside of your thighs.

"Gonna let me fill all your pretty holes, princess?" he asked gruffly, hastily tossing his ball cap onto the counter beside you.

Your only response was a needy moan, ready for the assault he was about to unleash on your cunt.

He dove straight in, licking thick stripes from your clit to your puckered hole, making your knees buckle and your hands grip the counter top.

Kyle let out a satisfied groan as he buried his face between your legs, hungrily lapping at your slit, tongue swirling hastily between your tight entrance and swollen nub.

Strong, thick digits snaked up the inside of your thighs until they joined his mouth at your core, shoving two strong fingers into your tight entrance, sliding them in and out to be coated by your juices as his tongue mercilessly flicked at your clit.

Loud moans left your lips parted while your back arched, and you chased the pleasurable heat blooming deep within the pit of your stomach.

As soon as the pads of his fingers came into contact with the spongy pleasure point within your walls, he kept his focus there, hooking his fingers harshly to apply just enough force.

"Fuck- Kyle!" you cried out, seeing stars form behind your eyes as your lips were stuck in a permanent 'O'.

Kyle groaned against your clit, suckling harshly on your sensitive nub, before increasing the pace of his fingers until you were gushing on his fingers and tongue.

An animalistic growl tore through Kyle's chest before he pulled away, only to bring his palm to your folds and relentlessly swipe his fingers back and forth in quick succession until your juices are coating your thighs, the floor, his hand, and his jeans.

"That's it, princess. Make a fuckin' mess for me," he growled.

Your legs trembled beneath you as broken moans tore through your throat to leave your voice raw and hoarse.

Kyle pulled his hand back to support your legs while he gave you a moment to breathe.

But Kyle wasn't done with you yet.

He quickly rose to his full height and kicked your legs further apart. The sound of his belt and jeans being undone had your eyes bulging in panic.

Kyle pulled his thick cock from the confines of his jeans, veins bulging, shaft rigid with an angry red, weeping tip.

His left hand move to grip your waist, keeping you in place while his right hand guided his thick head to your throbbing core. He tapped his cock against your clit a few times, sending jolts of electric currents through you.

"Better hold on tight, princess. It's been a day," he grumbled before easing his thick shaft in your tight entrance.

The deliciously familiar stretch burned and eased as he rocked his hips gently at first before being fully seated within you.

Kyle groaned aloud as he felt your walls flutter around his cock, biting harshly on his bottom lip as he watched himself disappear within your folds.

His hand slid up the length of your back until his fingertips were snaking into your hair and harshly gripping it at the base of your scalp, tugging your face up from the counter to put your lower back in an almost painful arch.

Tears of pleasurable overstimulation formed in your eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment as his hips rutted into you from behind. The force of his thrusts had your hips slamming into the edge of the counter top. He set a bruising pace while simultaneously slapping your ass.

"Good fuckin' girl. Tha's right, take my fuckin' cock," he grunted out, punctuating each word with a deep thrust, effectively stealing the air out of your lungs.

The thick vein running along the underside of his rigid shaft dragged deliciously over the spongy spot within your gummy walls, the head of his cock angrily ramming against the spot until you were gushing for him with a loud cry. But his hips were unrelenting as he chased his own release.

"Milk me with your greedy cunt, princess. Let me fill ya," he rasped as his hand in your hair moved to caress the column of your throat, and his other arm wrapped around the front of your waist, keeping you flush to him as he rammed into you.

He squeezed the sides of your throat, controlling the oxygen flow to your already fucked out brain.

His hips were stuttering and faltering in pace as soon as he felt the tears you were holding back leak onto his forearm.

Kyle roughly pushed you back down against the counter, gripping your hips in a firm hold as he fucked into you faster.

A string of grunts and moans fell from his lips as hot ropes of thick cum painted your inner walls white with his spend.

Heavy pants fell from both of your lips as he stayed seated in you as his cock softened.

Kyle leaned down and pressed soft and affectionate kisses across your shoulder blades and up to your neck until reaching your lips.

"I love you, princess. Ya did so good f'me. Promise tomorrow's all about you," he murmured into the kiss.

A fucked out smile graced your lips as you lie spent on the counter top, "I love you too, Kyle."

He grinned down at you and slowly removed himself from your abused cunt before stepping back to admire the mess he made out of you.

His cum leaked from your throbbing, swollen cunt, and mixed with your juices coating the inside of your thighs.

He hummed in approval before scooping you up in his arms and carrying you towards the bathroom where he ran you a nice hot bath, keeping you tucked firmly against his chest as he cleaned and showered you with affection and soft praises.

______

@going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @crashtestbunny

My offering to you goddesses 🥹🙏🏻🖤

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kivino · 6 months

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EVERY TIME, I FALL FOR YOU || KYLE ‘GAZ’ GARRICK X GN!READER

Word count - ~1,1k

Tags/Warnings - Gn!Reader, suggestive, fluff, Kyle is pining for you HARD, idiots in love :)))

Summary - Kyle fell for you hard, but he doesn’t know if it’s mutual.

A/n - just wanted to write something cute as a formal apology to gaz nation for my last fic, there can be no happy ending for that one, but here’s a little treat! i love you, i promise!!! c:

ao3 link for this fic

Kyle knew it from the moment he saw you - you were trouble. And he liked that, really. Sometimes too much, even, judging by how hard his heart fluttered in his chest when he felt your eyes catching his and giving him a passing, mischievous wink, reserved only for the two of you. Kyle is stunned stupid each time you pull something like this, cheeks burning, pupils dilating, and hands digging into the muscle of his thigh inside of the pocket of his jeans. He is fighting demons so he doesn’t grab you right then and there and pull into a warm, tight embrace just to hide his expression in your shoulder.

He wished he was as nonchalant as Ghost is, or as experienced as Price, or as approachable as Soap, but he was just…himself. With all his unresolved feelings and unreciprocated affection bubbling inside of him, only for this piping hot mixture to pour over the edge more often than not.

Kyle didn’t know how you still hadn’t noticed just how much he was falling for you, each second more and more. It felt more like tumbling down flights upon flights of concrete stairs, than gradually descending the pipeline of pure adoration towards you. God, you were so stupid. Both of you were, actually. But at least Kyle was self-aware about it.

He doesn't want to talk about it. Not about the way you make his day better by just existing in the same space as him. Not about the way you’re so stupidly fucking beautiful. Not about your shitty movie taste. And definitely not about the way he wants to pull you into a passionate kiss each time you start ranting about whatever thing you like at the moment.

Kyle didn’t catch the moment when the childish, a bit boyish, and bashful “I like you”s his thoughts would regurgitate when he saw you turned into “I love you”s. And if you were not there to see it, his head would drop right into his hands each time. He wasn’t sure if it was frustration or knowledge that it was just fucking stupid.

He tried his best to repress those things he felt for you. For the sake of you and him both. Oh, how miserably Kyle failed to keep his promises to stop pining for you.

Kyle loved you at your best and your worst, it didn’t matter to him, really. As painful as it was for him to feel you crying into his shoulder at two in the morning, trembling and clinging onto him, swiping hot tears and snot all over his jumper, it was still you. And how can he not love you like this as well? Just like he loves you when he sees your eyes crinkle as you smile at him, sunshine playing in your irises through the dark lenses of your tac eyewear.

When your head inevitably falls on Kyle’s shoulder while you’re coming back from a tiring mission he can feel your soft breathing on his neck. His fingers immediately reach towards your hair, swiping it off your forehead and running his fingers over the shorter parts. If you had been in the field for several days and hadn't had the chance to take a proper shower and wash your hair, he would mutter some snide remarks about Price letting you run wild through rows of chicken coups, barnes and haylofts, while his fingers picked out some debris from your hair. Kyle relishes in your warmth that he can feel even through several layers of clothes separating you. That’s one of the rare times he can enjoy your physical affection without having to explain himself. He’d trade his soul to stay like this with you forever. Kyle can feel his heart jumping out of his chest, head growing woozy with exhaustion and your overwhelming presence. The best type of daze.

This kind of relationship between the two of you was certainly…something. Kyle enjoyed it though. To him it was more than friendship. But god forbid he ever told you that.

Or so he thought.

Kyle decided to invite you to his place for your leave. He was living alone, in a good enough apartment, but it always felt a bit too empty and hollow. Like nobody lived there and no one was there to stay. Lack of any personal items or wall decorations, it only now started to sink in how unappealing it looked, after he briefly saw your place. It gave an impression of being looked after, well-loved even, with all the…stuff you had. When did you have the time to decorate your apartment anyway?..

It didn’t matter though, Kyle was just excited to spend time with you, ignoring the insistent jumps of his heart while he was waiting for you to finally arrive. Obviously you have visited him before, but not for such long periods of time, so naturally, he was nervous. But you were only friends, so why was he even getting so worked up over, essentially, nothing? He knew why. But thinking about it would only make all of it worse, so he preferred to pretend like those feelings were never there.

Kyle contained himself when he saw your beaming smile while he greeted you near the door. He kept it to himself when he observed you throwing together a quick snack for him, motions so fluid and relaxed. And god knows he tried keeping it together when he saw you walk out from the shower, hands ruffling some stray drops of water out of your hair. Of course he looks at you longer than usual. But he hopes you don’t notice.

He doesn’t initiate any physical affection in fear that this particular time it’ll tip him off. Kyle knows he won’t be able to stop himself if it ever comes to it. He doesn’t trust himself to. So when your hand gently cradles his cheek, fingers brushing over slight stubble and lips finally connecting with his, Kyle doesn’t tell you to stop. He only lets out a choked breath, along with a soft “please”.

He doesn’t tell you to stop when your fingers lace with his own. He stays silent and his eyes flutter closed when your lips trail over his jaw, peppering soft kisses over his heated skin. Instead of begging you to stop he only pleads for more, words stinging his throat.

And when Kyle comes to his senses it’s already too late, you’re curled into him on the bed, and exhaustion, as sweet as honey, spreads through his body in pleasant waves. He can feel lovebites stinging the skin of his neck and he shudders when you swipe your hand over fresh scratches on his back.

It’s already too late. But he just might be fine with it. He’s willing to give it a try. Maybe you’ll fall for him as hard as he did for you.

check out my masterlist or send me a request/comment!

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laitbanane · 3 months

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Kyle Garrick's love language is act of services and quality time.

He always makes sure Captain Price has the best cigars, that Ghost has his tea warm and sweet with just the right amount of milk in it.

He sits with Soap for hours when he makes new kinds of silly explosives to test on the training field, listens to him and praises him for his 'big brain'.

He helps his lieutenant and captain with paper work, making little jokes around the table to ease the tension of bureaucratic bullshit. Price laughs and he can sometime see a smirk behind Ghost's mask.

When Laswell is visiting, her motherly aura makes him happy and relaxed and they end up gossiping about what's going on base. Their favorite subject is the ambiguity between Soap and Ghost. They have a bet going on still about who will confess first.

He cherishes his team like family, born an only child wasn't always easy on him. The 141 taught him what's it like to be part of a fraternity.

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the-ineffable-cross · 7 months

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Gaz, who hates going abseiling because he doesn't like putting all his trust in a rope

Gaz, who has nightmares of falling through the sky

Gaz, who has scars from horrible rope burn on his palms

Gaz, who will never fall asleep while flying no matter how long the trip because he's scared of something happening

Gaz, who's hips tweak occasionally because of how hard he was jolted when the rope snapped taut

Gaz, who despises helicopters because of that one mission

#kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick #gaz mw2 #gaz mwii #gaz modern warfare #gaz cod #cod headcanons #gaz headcanons #kyle garrick headcanons #co

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4me2knowandyou2wonder · 8 months

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Soap having a soulmate string for ghost.

Ghost not being able to see that string yet for some reason or another. (Hasn’t realized feelings yet, just can’t see them, something on his end has to happen first. Whatever the AU dictates)

For years soap has been notoriously awful at finding exfil without being explained the directions like 3 times.

But now that ghost and he are on a team?

Soaps just starts using the string to get to exfil.

He doesn’t tell anyone why his sudden and significant improvement to finding the RV, but Price sure is wondering.

Also the fact that this new found ability seems to “randomly” completely disappear sometimes (on missions without ghost) I bet the first few times the Sargent regressed to his old ways Price nearly threw a fit.

Sillies ensue.

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hxltic · 26 days

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Omg omg I love your writing. May i please order a cup of Ghost, König, Roach (or really any other COD character) with an s/o who randomly decides to ask them what their bodycount is and then gets upset when it’s a lot ;( like their s/o asks them about their past hookups and they’re like 16 or something and their s/o gets all pouty and teary eyed cause they don’t like the thought of someone else touching them in an intimate manner. SORRY IF THIS IS TOO DETAILED OML

I really wanted to do one of the three you named but I’m gonna do Gaz cus he’s hot and young and the least traumatized out of all of them LMAO IM SORRY (this is so late but I have motivation again and I’m back!!)

Gaz connects the silver chain around his neck, watching his reflection copy in the mirror, then he shines a smile that hides the strawberry gum he’s chewing somewhere behind his teeth. Once he’s satisfied with a simple black tee that hugs him in all the right spots, he leaves the bathroom with a spritz of his expensive, vanilla scented cologne hanging in the air.

On his few days off duty, who better to spend it with than you?

He pours himself a single shot before you stroll out of your shared bedroom. Makeup done, heels high, and dress short— you were more than ready.

“Damn, you look good. You trying to kill me?” He rubs his jaw as he scans you.

Giggling, you twirl in your skin-tight dress, “Maybe.”

“Alright, let’s go before I do something I’ll regret.”

. .

You arrive with his arm slung around your waist as you pass the foyer and into the living room. Some of his high school friends await, new faces to you. They catch sight of you first, then him, and it instantly switches the mood when they holler out happily.

“Yo, Kyle!”

“Long time no see!”

A few hugs and handshakes later, you both take a seat and sink comfortably into the couch. His arm switches to rest over your shoulders protectively.

He inquires, “So, this is her right?”

“In the flesh,” he responds casually.

The man leans over from his spot and reaches his hand out, hoping you’ll take it. Your lips curl upwards politely when you do.

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too. He talks about you all the time, so when I saw you, I knew who you were immediately. I’m Tyler.”

“Does he now?” Your shoot a curious glance to him who’s watching the conversation unfold. “And what would he say?”

“All good things, all good things,” Kyle jests. His thumb caresses your shoulder. Tilting your head to lean into his neck, faint cologne seems to override everyone else’s in the room when his two-toned lips kiss your forehead.

“It’s good to see him finally settle down. Out of your ways, right man?”

Tyler mindlessly giggles as what he said runs over your head. Then, it takes a U-turn and comes back, dropping your expression to a blank stare at nothing in particular as the cogs turn in your brain.

Out of his ways. You repeat. What were his ways?

Unaware that he’d single-handedly ruined your night, Tyler continues talking to his friends. One of which was Kyle, someone trained to pay attention to those around him, so he notices your switch in demeanor but truthfully has no idea why.

To be completely honest, you didn’t know why either. He was a good man, one you trust with your life (literally), so why do you care about who he was? You didn’t know if this was riding a thin line of slut-shaming, but you were so curious that being lost in your train of thought negated the feeling of his hand resting on your bouncing knee.

“What’s the matter?” He tucks a strand of your hair back gingerly. “Let me fix it.”

Even if he didn’t know what it was, he always said those four words. “Let me fix it.” If it was things he couldn’t fix, he’d sure as hell try.

Your eyes dart to his soft ones. He gazes at you like you’re the only person in the room; the only girl in world. “It’s nothing.”

“If you don’t want to talk about it now, I’m askin’ again later. Would you prefer me do that?”

You consider his negotiation, running the scenario of later through your head, then nod quietly. He nods back but it’s evident he isn’t completely enjoying himself the rest of the night. How can he when you aren’t?

Half-assed responses and deep sighs fall from his lips, the irritation growing despite the previous longing to hear from his old friends. He began to grow overstimulated from that point on, but not wanting to ruin the mood, he kept his mouth shut.

. .

The second you slipped through the door, fast food in hand (from his efforts to lighten your mood), the tension transferred from the majorly silent car ride to your home. Your breaths were shallow as if the thoughts circulating overwhelmed you.

Nothing matters beforehand. Your relationship was still fresh, there wasn’t even enough time for him to have a “military girlfriend”. But could that mean you’re next? You trust him, just not your judgement.

“What’s wrong, beautiful? Ya barely ate.”

He closes the door behind you, treading carefully around your emotions as to not hurt you more. As much as you wanted to curl up in a ball, unfortunately, there’s nothing to fault him for in this situation, so you can’t do anything but talk about it. The guilt eats away at your love for him as you gather the words you call shameful.

“If you had to guess, how many people did you date before me?”

His eyes widen in surprise, then fade away as he searches his brain for memories.

The deliberation of the question should let you know the status of what he did. They could have been one night stands— and the thought makes you cringe— but nothing would evoke the most culpability than it being various, genuine relationships.

“Three,” he states. There was no extra talk, even though you’re sure he had pieced together why you were asking.

“How many different people have you been intimate with? Including me?”

“Uhh…”

Answering wasn’t the problem. It’s just that if it made you this upset and you hadn’t even known the answer yet, hearing the actual reply would absolutely crush you.

He chose against saying it, just releasing a deep sigh, which is basically the same thing. It told you all you needed to know.

“Hey, look,” he begins walking toward you and his logic is warred with his heart when you don’t step away, but just stand there sadly. There was nothing to be afraid of, and you weren’t scared of him anyway. “I know this feels cliché, but you’re the one I want. Ty wasn’t lyin’ when he said I’ve settled down.”

Both of his hands gently find yours as if he were attempting to telepathically transport his sincerity to you. “I love you more than you’ll ever know.”

And he shows it, most certainly— the kiss he sweetly places to your temple nothing but evidence— yet all you can think about were your previous thoughts. What if you’re next?

“So what’s the answer?” Your focus remains to the hardwood floor, attempting to look for invisible specs of dust to avoid the tears threatening to swell in your eyes.

It shocks him because he didn’t think you’d speak, concluding you were too upset. One of his hands removes yours and drags it over his face. “Fuck, baby— I don’t even have count.”

He was right, it did upset you more, but there wasn’t anything you could blame him for. And living in uncertainty within a relationship that he promises he’s dedicated to sounds like hell. He hasn’t done anything to prove you shouldn’t, so your best option, quite literally, is to trust him. “Okay.”

“Look at me, love.” He slowly raises your chin by a few fingers, only to feel a painful throb behind his ribs at the sight. “I was young, and stupid, and wanted the wrong things from the people around me. I joined the military because of it, and thank God I did. I found the right values of life.”

There was a wetness to your cheek that he wiped away with his thumb, but you wouldn’t be able to tell why it was there. Overwhelming affection or sadness?

“In fact, there isn’t anything I can thank more than the world for the time we met. Now, I can cherish you in a way I wouldn’t have been able to before.”

You listen closely to the words, just thinking of how okay you’ll be. He was a good man, and if you unintentionally painted him out to be anything otherwise, it would show. But until then, you two would be fine (assuming he wasn’t still a man-whore, of course).

©️ hxltic

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vangoghcoffeeco · 5 months

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have a dumb comic based off of this quote from @warenai that i used for drawing practice. enjoy.

#kyle gaz garrick #Gaz #kyle garrick x reader #call of duty modern warfare ii #incorrect call of duty quotes #kyle garrick #Gaz cod #kyle gaz garrick x reader #mwii #Gaz mwii #call of duty #my art tag 🦢#ignore the issues with his head in the first panel <3 #I’m stupid <3

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a-small-writer-in-a-big-world · 8 months

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Love Letters

Pairing: Kyle Gaz Garrick x reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, happy ending

Words: 1.9k

Synopsis: Gaz sends you letters while on deployment…

Part of Gazfest @glitterypirateduck

One shot with the prompt: What did you just say?

Love,

I’m so sorry.

I miss you. When I find the time to sleep, I think of you constantly. I think of the way your warm skin feels against mine when we’re in bed together, how you fall into my arms every night even when you’re halfway across the bed.

I always sleep better when I’m with you.

I don’t think I can go on without you for much longer. You’re constantly on my mind. Your voice. The way you can’t sing worth anything but it still sounds like music to my ears. Your smell. Fuck, the shirt you wore stopped smelling like you months ago and I think that’s when I went mad.

I fight with myself every night. Sometimes I hate this job because it keeps me from you. I can’t call you, can’t even text you, I have to send these letters and wait weeks for your response and hope that you’re not going to tell me to piss off because you’ve finally grown sick of this. Of me.

You sounded sad in the letter you sent. I’m sorry. I know you’ve been crying and it hurts me to know that I’ve hurt you. You have every right to be upset with me and I don’t care that you’re mad, just please stay. I’ll make it up to you, somehow I will and I shouldn’t ask you to wait more but please just wait for me.

I love you. With every part of me. I can’t imagine me without you. I love you so much and I will say it until I can’t anymore.

I wasn’t lying when I said I would come home those months ago. I promise I’ll be home soon.

I love you,

Kyle

Your eyes burned with the promise of tears that never appeared as you reread the letter in your hand. You couldn’t stop yourself from staring at it even if you wanted to, not when this was the last thing you had received from him in months.

You knew when you had started dating him that he would disappear for long periods of time. It was something that you had come to terms with a long time ago and though it was hard to not see him for long stretches of time, the letters he sent you were enough to at least fill some of the void until he came back.

There had been some hope. He had told you he had been coming home, that he would make up for the fact that he missed your birthday and your anniversary by doing whatever you wanted.

You’d been ready to see him, ready to feel his arms around yours and hear his voice, ready to sleep in the same bed as him and eat breakfast with him in the morning.

You waited.

And he never showed.

You hadn’t meant to sound so upset when you wrote him back, asking where he was, hoping that he was still alive and that he hadn’t forgotten to come back to you. You didn’t want him to feel guilty for doing his job because you knew that he loved it just as much as he loved you, but you missed him so much.

You couldn’t sleep when he was gone and you had also noticed that the smell from his shirts had disappeared long ago. That was when you knew he had been gone from you for too long and that he needed to come home, no matter how important the mission was.

He thought you were going to leave him.

It made your stomach tie up in knots and you felt like you were going to be sick. It had never crossed your mind because even though he was gone a lot of the time with little contact, he was the only one for you.

You could only imagine how he felt. He must’ve panicked which is why you received a letter with handwriting that looked as if it had been written in a hurry, like he was trying to get out everything he felt in that moment in hopes it would convince you to stay.

You sent one back, telling him that you were still here, you were still waiting for him, but it had been radio silence since.

Now you were laying in your bed, clutching onto the letter like it was your last hope as you waited for either the front door to open and your boyfriend to walk through or for Price to show up and tell you he wasn’t coming home.

A shaky sigh left your chest and you swallowed hard.

You refused to think about that. He would make it home to you, he always did, no matter how bad the injury or how long it has been. So you pushed those thoughts away from your mind and instead let your exhaustion consume you.

You dozed off eventually. You weren’t sure if you were fully asleep when you heard movement around the apartment sometime later into the night, but you attributed it to your mind playing tricks on you in your sleep deprived state. You didn’t have the energy to open your eyes or get out of bed to investigate, so instead you just hid your face into the pillow in an attempt to stay asleep.

There were heavy footsteps throughout the apartment before they approached the bedroom almost in a frantic state before they stopped abruptly in the doorway.

“Fucking hell.” A sigh of relief before the footsteps grew closer until the mattress dipped under new weight.

The letter was taken out of your hand and your eyebrows knitted together. You let out a soft groan when you felt arms wrap around you and pull you into a warm chest that filled your nose with the familiar scent of home.

“Baby.” Kyle whispered in your ear as he hugged you tightly. “I love you so much.”

It was a cruel dream but you weren’t surprised that your mind was giving it to you. With the amount of times you had thought about him coming home you were bound to dream of him coming home to finally hold you in his arms.

“I love you too.” You mumbled in your sleep as you placed your hands over his arms.

Kyle pressed a soft kiss to the back of your neck and trailed more down to your shoulder as he rubbed his hands over your skin. He breathed in deeply and nestled himself against your back, pressing you against him as firmly as he could while you happily let him, still believing that this was a dream.

For a moment he was silent as he held onto you. He pressed his face into the crook of your neck while you found yourself actually falling asleep. He nearly would’ve let you, especially as he felt himself fall into the clutches of sleep that had previously been out of his reach due to the fact that you weren’t with him.

“Will you marry me?”

Your eyes snapped open and you blinked the sleep out of your eyes. It took you a moment to get past the disorientating feeling of having forced yourself out of sleep so quickly before reality came crashing down on you quickly.

Somehow you pushed yourself out of Kyle’s arms and turned around to look at him with wide eyes.

Kyle stared back at you with nervous eyes of his own. He looked exhausted, with bags under his eyes and judging by the fact that he was still wearing his work clothes he must’ve crawled into bed as soon as he had gotten home. Yet despite that, he stared up at you with as much love and affection as the day he first fell in love with you.

He raised his hand and brushed his fingertips across your cheek, gently caressing your soft skin with the calluses from months of being away from you and gave you a soft smile.

You did the same, bringing your hand up to hold his face, touching him as if you couldn’t quite believe he was here in front of you, in the same bed as you.

“You’re home.” You whispered as a few tears escaped your eyes but he quickly wiped them away.

“Yeah,” He breathed out as his eyes bounced around your face. “Said I would.”

You smiled and leaned down, pressing a kiss to his lips that he happily returned. It was tender and he pulled you on top of him as he held onto you as if you’d disappear right in front of him. You could feel every emotion from him, every word that was left unsaid in the many letters he had sent you over the months as you held his face.

It wasn’t until you remember what he said to you just moments prior that you broke the kiss and stared down at him with a look of confusion.

“Wait, what did you just say?”

Kyle grinned and let out a soft chuckle despite the nervous look in his eyes. His hands moved down to your hips where his thumbs rubbed circles into your skin.

You stared down at him with anticipation. For a moment, you wondered if maybe you had dreamt it, or maybe that you had misheard what he said because you were so tired. But judging by his reaction, you knew that it wasn’t your mind playing tricks on you and suddenly your heart began to race.

“Now you wanna talk about that?”

“What did you say, Kyle?”

You were shaking slightly and all you could do was stare at him as he licked his lips. You waited with bated breath as he took a deep breath as stared into your eyes with a serious look full of the most love you had ever seen him have towards you.

“Will you marry me?” He repeated softly and your breath hitched in your throat.

God you loved him but this was really not the way you had imagined this going. You’re not sure if this is how he imagined this going either, since you knew he probably had something grand planned for you but he must’ve been either too excited to stay on that plan or too scared you were going to be gone before he could say it.

You were sure that later on he’d do it “the right way” and give you everything you wanted, though you were fine with anything if it meant that he was the one that you got to spend the rest of your life with.

“Yes!” A grin stretched across your face and you nodded frantically.

Kyle grinned as well and began to laugh when you leaned down to pepper kisses all across his face, not sparing an inch of his skin. He held onto you, trying his best to return the kisses but you were too quick, causing him to give you fake complaints while you showered him in love.

You yelped when he rolled you on your back onto the bed, a laugh escaping your chest before he locked your lips in another tender kiss. You melted into him, holding onto him as tightly as you could while he hovered over you.

When you broke apart for air, he rested his forehead against yours and the both of you smiled like idiots.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

A/N: I'm sorry this is kinda short but I was worried that I wouldn't be able to get this finished in time for Gazfest. I'll end up writing more Gaz fics soon though

#gazfest #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick x you #gaz x reader #gaz x you #gaz cod #kyle gaz garrick #gaz mw2 #kyle garrick #gaz garrick #gaz mwii

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