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#kyle garrick fluff
aleskyyy · 2 days
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Saved — Kyle Garrick x F!Reader
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Three years of marriage with your husband who you thought would change for the better and he didn't. And finally being saved by someone who has been around you all along but both of you didn't know it.
Warnings — fem!reader, light angst, unhealthy relationship, cheating (not reader), attempt of sexual assault, a bit of violence/blood, fluff, fingering, oral [fem!receiving], cum eating, 18+ MDNI, etc.
3,2k words (maybe I'll make a second part, but I don't know when).
Main Masterlist COD Masterlist
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You know this is not a healthy relationship to be in. But you still hope your husband can change for the better, giving you the attention you deserve like when you were still dating. Even though you know all this is tiring, you still try to serve your husband well. Cooking food for him, cleaning the house and running errands for you and your husband.
Like right now, you are cooking dinner for you and your husband who will soon be home from work. You cook his favorite food and you hope he comes home from work in a good mood. Especially since today is the third year anniversary of your marriage. You really hope that tonight will go very well.
After your cooking is done, you look at the clock on the wall and it's already seven in the evening. Your husband should have been home half an hour ago. Without thinking about it anymore you immediately arrange the food onto the dining table. After finishing you hurry to clean yourself, you want to look very good in front of your husband.
After cleaning up, you return to sit at the dining table while waiting for your husband to come home. But until the clock strikes ten at night your husband hasn't come home. You tried calling your husband many times but there was no answer. You are very worried about him. You sigh and prepare to clear the dining table.
While clearing the table you hear the door being rudely opened making you rush over. You see your husband come home drunk and with his clothes all messed up. You rush towards him wanting to help him walk but he pushes you roughly.
"Dante, why are you home so late? I've been waiting for you and called you but you didn't answer," you tell him in a worried tone.
You again try to help your husband walk ignoring the smell of the woman's perfume and the color of the lipstick printed on your husband's shirt. You try to get rid of the bad thoughts that cross your head. This must be a one time mistake, your husband won't do it again. You're sure of this.
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It's been two weeks since the incident with your husband you are currently shopping for supplies that have been emptied. You're so serious about looking at every shelf in the super market that you accidentally bump into someone in front of you with the trolley you're using. Your eyes widened and you tried to apologize to the man in front of you.
"Oh my God, I'm really sorry. Does anything hurt?" you asked in a panicked tone. The man in front of you just laughs softly while shaking his head.
"No, ma'am. I'm fine," he says casually.
But you're not sure he's really okay, you're sure you hit him a little hard earlier. You try to look at him to see if he's really okay. But your gaze is distracted as you look at his handsome face, which is very sweet in your opinion. A gentle look on his face as he turned to look at you.
"I really apologize. I should have paid more attention to my surroundings," you say feeling embarrassed.
"It's okay. I'm Kyle by the way," he introduced himself with a smile on his face.
"Kyle..." you spell his name softly. Then introduced yourself to him with a smile.
"So, did you shop alone or with someone with this much groceries?" Kyle said as he pointed at the items in your trolley.
You look at your almost full trolley, you didn't think it would be this much. Especially since you came here by taxi. You really regret it now.
"Ah no, I'm alone," you reply as you push your trolley again.
You thought Kyle would leave after hearing your answer but you were wrong he walked after you. You walk side by side while talking casually, Kyle even helps you pick up the items on the high shelves. When you have finished shopping you smile happily because you were faster than usual, thanks to Kyle. You looked at him with a smile full of gratitude.
"Thank you Kyle, you shouldn't have helped me. But I'm really grateful and once again sorry for bumping into you earlier," you say to Kyle who smiles at you.
"I said I was fine, and I was happy to help you too," Kyle replies.
"But I made you stay longer, even though you didn't shop as much as I did," you say pointing at the groceries in his hand.
Kyle just laughs. He walks with you to the cashier. After you guys finished paying, Kyle took more of your shopping bags and helped you carry them out. You try to take your shopping bags from his hands but he still wants to carry your stuff.
"So where's your car?" Kyle asks.
You feel embarrassed again, you should have brought a car but your husband's car suddenly didn't start so he brought your car to work instead.
"I took a taxi here, just leave it and I'll find a taxi," you reply as you put down the groceries you're carrying.
"Let me take you home," he invites.
You can only shake your head. You've just met, you don't want to take any chances. Besides, it's not good to go home with another man when your husband isn't home. Kyle seemed to know what you were thinking, trying to calm you down.
"Believe me I'm not a criminal who would kidnap people," he said with a laugh.
You laughed stiffly at his words, Kyle who saw your expression at his unhelpful words scratched the back of his neck with an embarrassed smile.
"I'm sorry, I just want to help you that's all," he said.
You tried to consider his request. If you went with Kyle you wouldn't spend any more money than you had to. Finally, you nodded your head in acceptance of Kyle's invitation. Hopefully you made the right choice. Kyle carries your groceries back to the jeep that you believe belongs to him.
You try to help Kyle put your groceries in but he takes them all and puts them in by himself. Then he opens the passenger door and lets you in. Even your husband when you were still dating until now has never opened the car door for you. You thank Kyle and he follows you into the car. After starting the car Kyle asks where you live.
"What?" Kyle says after hearing where you live. You think he didn't hear you so you repeat yourself.
"I heard what you said, I just didn't expect you to live there," he says with a chuckle.
You looked at Kyle with a puzzled expression. "Why?"
"Because I also live there, if you know the house at the end of the street is my house," he said.
"That's your house?"
"Yes."
"But as far as I know it's often empty," you confirmed.
Kyle just nodded in confirmation of your words. "Because I rarely go home, if I come home from duty I always sleep in the barracks."
"You're a soldier?" You asked in a surprised. Kyle just nods answer your question while smiling at you briefly then refocuses on the road.
When you got to the road, you showed Kyle which one was your house. Until now you still don't believe that you and Kyle are neighbors because you've never seen him. Or maybe it's because you have a hard time socializing, is what you think.
When you get to the front of your house you panic seeing your car in the garage. It's a sign that your husband is home, but it's still noon and not even lunchtime. You and Kyle get out of the car to get your groceries. Before you can thank Kyle you hear your husband's voice yelling your name. You're so grateful that it's quiet in your neighborhood so you don't become the talk of the neighbors.
"I'm sorry, it looks like my husband came home early," you say while holding your groceries.
"Husband?" You hear the hesitant tone of Kyle's question.
"Oh God, I forgot to tell you that I'm married. I'm really so–"
Once again your husband's voice rang out loudly calling your name. You see your husband standing at the door looking at you and Kyle. Your heart was beating fast, you were afraid that your husband would get angry and do something bad.
"I apologize in advance and thank you for your help, Kyle," you say as you run a little with your groceries.
Kyle who saw you struggling to carry the groceries wants to help but he doesn't want to interfere in someone's household. But Kyle felt angry when he saw you struggling to carry the groceries but your husband didn't help. Still standing by his car, he saw your husband violently close the door to the house. Kyle sighed harshly, he was just attracted to someone but it turned out that the person he liked was married.
It's been three days since he met you, but Kyle is still thinking about you. He feels something odd that makes him not stop thinking about you. He knows he's wrong, you're married and he shouldn't be thinking about someone else's wife. But Kyle felt something was wrong. Since that day, every morning he did his morning running past your house but didn't see you come out of the house. He didn't even see your husband go to work.
It was the fifth day he saw you come out and it looked like your husband wasn't home. You were watering the plants in the yard. Kyle walked up to you and called out to you, making you startle and accidentally splash Kyle with water.
"Kyle!" you yell in surprise at him.
You frantically disconnect the water hose and walk towards Kyle. You tried to dry his face with your hands, Kyle could only laugh and said it was fine. Hearing the sound of his laughter makes you laugh too. Your hands return to your sides. You look at the surrounding area which is quiet because people have gone to work.
"Is your husband home?"
Hearing Kyle's question about your husband makes the smile on your face disappear. Ever since your husband saw you coming home with Kyle he had become more grumpy, especially with your husband having been fired from the company making him dare to hit you when he was angry with you.
"He went out," you reply. The truth is that you don't even know where your husband is at the moment.
Seeing the change on your face made Kyle try to change the subject. But before he could ask about anything else Kyle's eyes caught the bruise under your eye. Even though he knew you were trying to cover it up with makeup, he was sure it was a bruise. Kyle walks slowly towards you and holds your face gently which makes you surprised by his actions.
"What's wrong with your face?" he asked. His voice sounds different in your ears. You instinctively held the bruise under your eye. The bruise caused by your husband last night. You try to smile and answer that you fell in the bathroom last night and hit your face. But Kyle can see through your lie. He moves away from you a little, afraid that if anyone sees your closeness, it will become a problem for you.
"You know I'm here if you need anything, right? I can help you anytime, if I'm not home you can call me."
Kyle looked for something in his pants pocket and found a pen and a small book that he always carried around. He wrote down the number and tore off the paper to give it to you. You can only be silent while accepting it. You are so grateful to have someone like Kyle in your life even though you have only known him for a few days.
"Thank you Kyle, you have no idea how helpful you are right now," you say with a grateful smile.
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Tonight you're cooking for your husband who hasn't come home yet, the rain is pouring down with thunder and lightning. As you finish cooking you hear your husband's voice with someone else's voice that you never heard. You walk up to your husband and see a man who looks older than him.
"Dante, who is that?" you ask. But your husband is only silent while looking at the man who is with him. He whispers something to the man then walks out and drives back in his car.
"You know I paid a lot of money for this with your husband. I hope you taste as good as he says," the stranger says.
You try to process the situation in front of you. You try to run towards the door but are quickly stopped by the man. The man pulls you towards the sofa in the living room, he tries to rip off the clothes you are wearing. With all your might you try to escape his grasp. You grabbed the man's face and pressed your thumb on his right eye until he screamed and blood came out of it. He immediately releases you and holds his eye.
"Bitch!" he yelled at you.
Before he could touch you again, you picked up the vase on the table and smashed it on the man's head. After that you ran outside barefoot. The area near your house looks empty because of the heavy rain. You run towards Kyle's house at the end of the street. You hoped he was still home and not on duty.
When you get to Kyle's house, you knock on his door with all your might. Tears are already mixing with the rainwater on your face. Your body shakes with fear and cold. You feel like you're going to faint if Kyle doesn't open the door. He looks at you with a worried face and brings you in. Kyle hugs you from the side to take you inside his house. He finds clothes and towels for you to wear. He takes you to the bathroom and asks you to change without demanding any explanation from you. When you come out of the bathroom Kyle takes you to the kitchen and makes you some hot tea.
"If you're calmer and want to talk I'll listen," Kyle says as he places the hot tea in front of you.
"He wanted to sell me, my husband wanted to sell me to someone and that person was still in my house when I ran away. I wounded his eyes and hit his head with a vase. And I don't know if he's still there or not," you explain in a trembling voice. Your tears fall again remembering what just happened to you.
You see Kyle taking his cell phone out of his pocket and calling someone, you can only hear a little of what he's saying. All you know is that he's on the phone with someone he calls captain and there are strange words like 'ghost' and 'soap'. You try to calm yourself down and drink the tea Kyle made. Kyle sits back down next to you and holds your hand gently.
"Everything will be fine, maybe tomorrow I need you to answer some questions. So you can sleep here, I'll prepare a guest room for you," he said while stroking your hand.
And sure enough, the next day Kyle somehow got all the information about your husband. Even your husband was linked to the drug dealer. Kyle also got information about the man last night that you confirmed with his picture in the file. And a few hours later you hear the news that your husband and the man last night were arrested by the police but unfortunately the car carrying them crashed leaving your husband and the man dead on the spot. You know this all seems strange, but you ignore it all. In fact, you feel relieved when you hear the news. You didn't even come to your husband's funeral and let his family take care of it.
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You're washing dishes when you feel hands around your waist. You feel little kisses being placed on your neck. You can only laugh amusedly when your neck is bitten lightly.
"Kyle! I'm washing dishes here. Don't distract me," you said with a laugh. Kyle just laughed while kissing your cheek lightly.
It's been two years since that night, and one year since you and Kyle got together. He's been patiently waiting for you to open your heart to someone else ever since that night. He even moved out of the neighborhood and took you with him so that you wouldn't remember what happened that night. He took you to a house near the house of a man named John Price. And you know John Price is his captain and also the person who helped you that night.
"I want to take you out to dinner tonight. I hope you'll wear the red dress we bought earlier," Kyle said. His hand moved to graze your inner thigh which was only covered by his t-shirt.
"Tonight?"
Kyle just cleared his throat and went back to kissing your neck while giving a small bite there. His hand slowly touched your pussy from outside the underwear you were wearing. Kyle carried you straight to your room when he saw you finished washing the dishes. He immediately laid you on the bed and pinned you there.
"What are you doing, handsome?" You ask in a flirting tone that makes him laugh.
"You know what I'm going to do," Kyle said as he took off his your t-shirt. Leaving you with only your underwear.
Kyle kisses you passionately again, he plays with your breasts making you moan his name. Kyle is always gentle with you and focuses on your needs first. His kisses move down your neck and bite there, leaving a lot of hickeys. Then he brings his mouth to your breasts, taking turns sucking on them. He sucks one of your breasts and lightly nibbles on the other.
Kyle goes back down to your pussy and kisses it from outside the underwear you're wearing. His tongue plays with your pussy and makes you moan loudly and your back arches. Kyle quickly takes off your underwear and throws it in a random direction. His lips went back to kissing your pussy and suckling your clit.
Kyle puts one of his fingers inside your pussy and moves it slowly. Soon he fastens his movements after inserting another finger there and curls his finger on your tight walls which makes you cry out his name loudly. He also goes back to kissing your pussy and gives your clit a gentle bite. Your breathing has become ragged and your lower abdomen is tightening. Soon you will come and Kyle knows it so he quickens his hand movements and kisses your pussy even more.
"Kyle I'm coming, please, please, Kyle..."
"Come baby, come in my mouth."
Your hand gripped his hair as you came. Your body trembles and your toes curl. As you came Kyle kept licking your pussy which was leaking cum.
"Tonight baby, tonight I will fuck you so hard. I love you so much," Kyle said. He glanced at the bedside table drawer for a moment. Let's hope tonight goes well.
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bagofshinyrocks · 5 months
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Government name vs Military callsign
Prompt: What scares them worse? Addressing them by their full government name, or addressing them by their military callsign?
Featuring: Task Force 141 (CoD: MW2) - John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish (separately) x GN!Reader
Word Count: 0.9k
Warnings: none
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John Price
Government name.
Calling him Captain or Skipper just ends with him sauntering to where ever you are and ask (in an obnoxiously self-satisfied voice) what you wanted. Like a cat pretending it can’t hear the urgency in your tone when you say to get off the counter.
“If you want me to ‘shake a leg’, call my name, luvie.”
Now if you holler “Jonathan Price”, he’ll drop something. Either the newspaper in his hands, or his heart into his stomach. He sure as hell moves his ass with a purpose, and he’s peering into the room with an apology on his lips.
“Yes, luv? What’s wrong, poppet?”
“Lift the other end of the couch, would you?”
He does, and you shimmy it further back in the room. “Anything else I can do, love o’ my life?” He’s hovering, and gently coaxing you into his arms. Gauging how mad you were at him. You curled into him and kissed his chin. Then stepped away with a pat to his chest.
“No, sweetheart, just wanted you to shake a leg is all.”
When he remembers your previous conversation, he groans and tells you to fuck off.
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Simon Riley
Military callsign.
When you two are alone, and he’s already given you permission to call him Simon, don’t call him Ghost. When you say that word, he assumes one of his mates are at the door or on the phone, and goes from Simon to Ghost. Stalks into the room with narrowed eyes, only to find you in the kitchen. By yourself.
“Ghost, you want a sandwich too? Turkey and cheese.”
“Fuck you callin’ me that for?” 
Once he sees you’re alone, he swoops in and wraps around you like a hoodie. A firm kiss to your ear, then your cheek, then spun you around. Back pressed to the counter top. Settles his face right close to yours.
“We playin’ games now?” You didn’t want to upset him, so you pressed a kiss to his nose. His grumpy look faded a bit.
“Sorry, baby.” Arms wrapped carefully around his shoulders. And your fingers scratch his scalp. Another kiss to his nose. “I’m sorry for playing games with you. Simon Riley.”
Hearing his name on your lips finally cracked, and he gave you a smile. A little scar on the upper lip. You gave it a kiss, and then pressed a kiss to his lips. 
A quick surge forward, and you only just had time to shove aside the things behind you before you found yourself on the countertop.
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Kyle Garrick
Government name.
He doesn’t mind being called Gaz, and you’ll use Kyle and Gaz interchangeably. Doesn’t even mind if you use “Kyle” or “honey” in front of his squadmates. Though “Kylie” he does have some displeasure with.
“I’ll have you know, Soap is still calling me Kylie, you asshole.”
Call him ‘Garrick’, and he knows that you are pretending to be mad at him. He slinks over and rubs his face against your cheek. He’s too cute for you to stay mad.
If you shout “Kyle Garrick”, he comes running. He could have sworn that he put his clothes in the hamper. And did the dishes. And taken out the recycling. Damn, what was it that he forgot?
“Kyle Ga-”
“Yes, dear!” Shit, he didn’t mean to ‘yes, dear’ you. “Yes, my dear, I’m right here.”
You pause your laundry folding and summon him with a crook of your finger. Once he’s close enough, you tap your lip with the same finger. “I need a kiss.”
He blinked once. Then twice. “God damn you.” He squishes your face in his hands and gave you a quick, firm kiss. “Don’t stress me out like that. Thought you were mad.”
“Give me another kiss, or I will be.”
He rapid fire kissed your mouth, chin, and cheeks, then gave you a smack on the ass before returning to the living room. 
“In my own fucking home,” he muttered.
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John MacTavish
Military callsign.
He’s got some thick skin. And he’s had his name shouted angrily many a time. He would all but skip into the room with a big smile on his face. The only people who shouted that name (and wore out the scare-factor on it) were his family members. Shouting “John MacTavish” meant you loved him. You were also mad at him, but you loved him. That was more important. Even with your scowl and the gross pile of garbage he kept forgetting to take out. You loved him.
Now shouting his callsign reminded him of his superior officers.
“SOAP!”
Shit shit shit. He put down his beer and ran from the garage to the backyard. Leg brace over his sweats, low cut muscle shirt that you also wolf-whistle at when he wears. You were only weeding the garden boxes.
“JOHNNY!”
“I’m here, bonnie,” he hollered, rounding the corner. You were sitting in the dirt, a tidy pile of weeds and dead plant bits next to you.
“C’mere, c’mere.”
He leaned down next to you, hand on your shoulder and good knee on the ground. “Wassit?”
You pointed to the leaf in your hand. “A caterpillar, Johnny. An itsy-bitsy caterpillar.”
He sighed heavily and kissed your shoulder. “Bonnie, I thought something was wrong.”
“Hm?” You spared him a glance. “What are you talking about, bubba?”
“You called me Soap.”
“Did I? Didn’t mean to spook you, loverboy.” You gave him an apologetic kiss on the lips. “Just wanted you to see the caterpillar before he wiggled off.”
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Posted: 2023 Dec 10
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ethereal-night-fairy · 2 months
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Hi this is my first time doing this, I love your Christmas series, I thought of this idea yesterday- pre poly Task force 141 × reader where Ghost, Price and Gaz come to base late at night from a mission while reader and Soap are asleep, they come to base and see reader walking to Soaps room groggy with a pillow, and when asked, they say that Soap snores too loud so they will hit him with the pillow to shut him up.( maybe add a little reaction to them seeing reader wearing shorts and a tank top)
Thank you for sending in this ask. It's such a cute idea!! I hope you like what I wrote.
(Oh btw my blog can be quite dark with my other series, it would be much appreciated if you had 18+ or age in your bio so I know not to block you accidentally)
Sleepy
Pre poly 141 x GN Reader
Warnings: fluff, slight ideation to murder soap in his sleep because he snores like a horse, jealous Gaz, 141 ogling reader in sleep wear nothing too explicit though, sorry if I missed any. This is mostly just fluff though.
Comments and reblogs are appreciated 💋
Holiday drabble
Masterlist
Words: 1.5k
The rumble of the engine finally came to a stop. Price, Ghost and Gaz just arrived back on base after an excruciating intel mission. At least it was successful and with minimal injuries. They just needed to shower and decompress for a while in order to recover. Obviously no one was looking forward to the debrief the next morning, it meant they couldn't sleep in. They all file out of the humvee groaning out their grievances to the chilly night air, their breaths condensing into clouds due to the cold.
Price's muscles were killing him after that nasty fall from the second story. But he had wiped their servers of all the information they needed. Which he was happy about. He stretches and groans, hearing his joints pop from sitting in one position too long. He rolls his arms trying to get the knot out of his shoulders, while the other two do the same. They walk the hallways in silence hoping to get to their respective beds as soon as possible. It looked like no one was in the mood to share a bed tonight for obvious reasons.
“It's so unfair that Soap got to spend the last three days with them while we were busting our asses off”, Gaz groaned. He was the most annoyed by the mission arrangement. Especially since he was only just getting closer to you after your near-death experience. He was becoming more and more infatuated with you by the day. So much so that petty arguments were breaking out when one of the other boys spent too much time near you for Gaz's liking. He didn't complain as long as he was paired with you for almost everything.
“You know it's not like that, they were also working whilst we were away. He's probably driving them mad anyway. You know they have a special place for you in their heart”, Price countered. Soap and you were left on base since you two were gathering intel for an upcoming mission. It required a lot of attention so it was decided that you and Soap would stay behind to work on it.
“Obviously I'm their favourite…why wouldn't I be?…I treat them the best..”, Gaz continues to grumble quietly to himself. The other two men can't help but chuckle to themselves. He needed to learn how to share better. Eventually they turn the corner to their private barracks only to find you standing in front of Soaps door in the darkly lit hallway. It was jarring at first since they weren't expecting anyone awake at this time. You almost gave them a heart attack just standing there menacingly. You resemble the ghost with the way your hair was messed up and your clothes were rumpled. Were you sleep walking?
You hadn't noticed them yet, too occupied with staring daggers into Soap’s door while clutching a pillow to your chest. You looked groggy and had your lips situated in an angry pout. Everyone stood not knowing what to do. Price read somewhere you weren't supposed to wake someone who sleepwalks, that it was better to gently get them back into bed. But you looked like you wanted to murder someone. Just as Price is about to move to gently get to you a horrible sound rings out throughout the hallway. A sound akin to jammed chainsaw. A sound that was unmistakably Soaps loud snoring.
“I'm going murder him!”, you shout out, stomping your feet. The men flinch slightly at your outburst but it was a funny sight. Definitely welcomed after their exhausting mission, they try hard to keep their laughter contained.
“Who are ya plannin on murderin?”, you yelp and turn towards Ghosts deep manchester accent hastily hiding your would be murder weapon behind your back. In doing so your chest gets pushed out slightly highlighting your tight tank top with your equally tight short shorts. The fabric clinged to your figure giving the men quite a nice eyeful as you fumble with your words.
“Y-your back, so soon? W-we were expecting you tomorrow morning. Me? I-I wasn't doing anything. I was just going to have a friendly?..yeah friendly chat with Soap. I-I wasn't going to suffocate him promise!…though I could..I definitely could…b-but I wasn't going to do it..promise..m-maybe just smack him a little that's all. I haven't been able to sleep since you guys left…”, they watch you with amusement as you stutter, getting all your excuses out while the men try to hold their laughter in. Obviously they knew you wouldn't harm him seriously, you probably just wanted to hit him with the pillow to get him to shut up so you could sleep. Such an adorable thing you were with your pillow now clutched to your chest as you mumbles your frustration into it. It was a shame the pillow hid all the things they wanted to see but that was ok, they knew this wasn't going to be the only time they saw you in your sleepwear. Especially since they were growing closer to you. But that didn't change the fact everyone needed sleep right now including you. You looked ready to topple over.
Gaz is the first to move as he laughs openly at your antics. He envelops you in a bear hug while trying to get you out of your sour mood. “Come sleep in my bed. I'll put some white noise on so you can't hear him, I'll even make you some tea so you can settle down”, you whine in his hold telling him you've already tried that. Ghost walks by petting your head suggesting wearing ear plugs but you just shake your head into the pillow as you hear him enter his room bidding everyone goodnight. Another earth shaking snore rings out from Soaps room making you groan out in frustration. None of the other men minded Soaps snoring since they were so used to it. They also had their own methods of dealing with the noise. Ghost wore ear plugs but didn't mind the noise most days. Gaz used white noise and the captain was fortunate enough to have his room further away beside his office for easy access.
“Come sleep in my bed tonight sweetheart, you won't be able to hear him there”, Gaz lets you go to pout angrily at his Captain and lover. Price just smirks at him, it was fair game when it came to you. No rules or boundaries were established yet. He'll have to make it up to him later.
“Really? Is that ok captain…?”, you look at him hopefully with your droopy eyes.
“Of course..I need my soldiers in tip top shape. Run along now make yourself comfortable while I chat with Gaz”, you do exactly that after saying goodnight, probably extremely relieved you wouldn't lose another day of sleep. Gaz continues pouting as Price kisses him goodnight.
“Better luck next time love”, Price chuckles to himself as he hears Gaz groan and mutter to himself as he enters his room.
Walking in Price finds you fast asleep, curled up comfortably in the far end of the bed. You must have been really tired. He smiles to himself as he strips quietly to go shower off all the dirt and grime from the mission. Once he's finally scrubbed clean and smelling like his favourite body wash he gently climbs into bed making sure not to wake you. The soft bed is forgiving towards his sore muscles and even better yet that it has a soft body to keep him warm throughout the night. For a second he watches your gentle breathing before getting comfortable and pulling the duvet over you both.
Price is a gentleman..most days.. so he stays by his side but it seems your sleep deprived mind has other ideas because you curl against him the second he's beside you. You were basically treating him like a warm teddy bear, not the Price minded. He just needed to not focus on what you were wearing or else he wasn't getting any sleep tonight. You're probably too deep in sleep to realise what you were doing anyway. Such a feisty kitten you were when you were all tired and grumpy. He watches you move and get comfortable by placing your cheek on his chest as he settles into bed properly and wrapping his arms around you.
You'd do nicely as another addition to their relationship. He knew the boys were growing to love you more and more as the days went by. To the point that jealousy was being felt if anyone apart from them tried gaining your attention. The only question was how to approach the topic? You weren't the brightest when it came to things of this nature and they didn't want to scare or pressure you into anything. But that was a problem for another day. For tonight he was going to enjoy your warmth to the fullest.
“Our grumpy little sunshine, we'll make you ours just wait a little longer”, with that whispered into the darkness Price places a gentle kiss on your forehead before falling asleep as well.
Copyright © by ethereal-night-fairy. 2024. All Rights Reserved. Writing not permitted for reposting, transcription, translation or to use with AI technologies.
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alwaysshallow · 2 months
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141 react to their partner nightly routine (shower, hair care, face/skin routine, brush teeth, retainer, etc.)?
What if the partner has the night zoomies (late night burst of energy)?
gaz absolutely loves your night routine; he got interested in it when you two moved in together and you sat in the bathroom for more than twenty minutes straight, singing your favorite song in front of the mirror. he observed the process at first, but then got into it.
if he's not deployed, he does it with you; he even has his own products and all, you taught him well. insists on helping you with massaging etc....... since he adores how his hands feel after massaging it for you. if it comes to night zoomies, i feel he's trying everything to tire you lmao. or he just straight up does whatever you want!!!
ghost..... he's not that into night routines, no. it's good to observe you, you always manage to make him smile, but he's not into the skincare, haircare. this man uses 3-in-1 shampoo or your olaplex if you're gonna leave it because his hair smells nice after that lmao. but he always observes you, it makes him calm. if he has time when he's deployed, he definitely calls you on video so he can watch and hear about your day.
night zoomies...... the only answer is wrestling. he's a tired man, tries to have you around all the time when he can; he can't be bothered, really. he pins you down or allows you to pin him and fuck around a little because you're just adorable when you have too much energy.
price and a night routine.......... not into skincare, but more into haircare?? like, you once showed him how fluffy his hair can be and he didn't look back ever since. it applies also to his beard btw, he loves trying things and making you watch it (he's very proud.) skincare only when he's tired after deployment and thinks he looks the worst. week later, he's back to only haircare.
reaction to night zoomies.... he's similar to simon, can't be bothered, but if you want to do something, he's more than okay with that. or if you just need to ramble about your day, or maybe wrestle. or you can fuck and ride him.
soap and night routine oh my god. he's like a five year old mixing all the products and complaining about it after when it stings. he doesn't even read the labels, he does it for fun and thinks that the order doesn't really matter (it does). he's literally into anything you are at this point, following you around like a puppy.
if you have night zoomies, he's literally your soulmate lmao because this man is insufferable. suddenly, the world is his oyster and he can do anything he wants; at least, in his mind. in reality, after fucking around and scaring the neighbors (his favorite thing to do), he sleeps like a log.
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gloomwitchwrites · 1 month
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Break Up with Your Toxic Boyfriend (1 of 4)
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Female Reader
Content & Warnings: emotional hurt/comfort, brief discussion of verbal and emotional injury, protective Kyle, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie
Word Count: 2.3k
A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series
With no one to turn to, you contact Gaz, knowing that he'll listen. But old instincts are hard to ignore, and Gaz comes to you because your current boyfriend isn't worth your love. He needs you to understand that.
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // break up with your toxic boyfriend masterlist
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It’s late. The colors on the television are bright in the dark room. Sound is off but Kyle isn’t watching. It’s more for the background. A distraction. All the muscles in his body ache. That’s how it always is when he returns from another deployment.
Everything is fine until he arrives home and plops onto the sofa. Like a slumbering bear emerging from winter hibernation, his body reacts to the sudden silence of rest as if peace isn’t something Kyle deserves. It’s why he’s always gone, and because of his continuous absences, you left.
Lonely. You were always lonely with him, and it’s because Kyle made it so. It’s a constant regret that sits in the back of his throat like spice buildup. It burns. Rages. Simmers.
When Kyle’s phone starts buzzing, he doesn’t notice at first. The screen is bright like the television, but it isn’t until its rattling boxy body shifts that Kyle’s gaze glances downward. He considers leaving it, allowing the caller to fall to voicemail, but something stirs in his stomach. It hooks his attention.
Perhaps it’s the late hour or the sudden tightness in his chest. Something is bothering him like stubborn sticky spots on the kitchen floor.
Kyle sits up, reaching for the vibrating phone on the tabletop.
Your name scrolls across the screen.
At first, Kyle’s mind cannot comprehend it. The letters that make up your name move over the screen of the phone in a blur, almost like they’re moving too quickly. But that isn’t possible. Kyle’s mind simply cannot comprehend why the hell you’re calling him this late at night.
You are no longer his. The two of you aren’t together. You moved on and rightfully so. Kyle has seen all the social media posts, and sometimes the blokes at work might bring you up, usually to provoke him. But the fucking joke is on them. The separation was mutual. It was kind and calm and fine.
But that doesn’t mean Kyle hasn’t thought about you. There is no box inside his head to put you in. There is no hole or lock or key or barren wasteland where he could simply toss your memory into and forget.
Kyle didn’t want to pull away. He didn’t want to let you go.
But you weren’t happy. He was always gone, and still is. Kyle never figured out how to be a partner to you when he was a partner to his work.
He regrets not fighting for you. He regrets not speaking up instead of gently bowing out.
And it’s late. It’s fucking late. Why are you calling him?
Hope—or a sliver of it—blooms in his chest, twisting around inside his body like ribbons around bone. When the feeling pulls taut, that excitement slides into worry.
The two of you are not together.
You rarely call him.
But his phone is buzzing.
And you are waiting on the other end.
Kyle’s slides his thumb across his phone’s screen, answering the call. He brings it up his ear, and that is when he hears it—a choked inhalation. It is one he recognizes. You’re crying, and trying to hide it.
“What’s wrong?” asks Kyle automatically, the instinct to take care of you rising to the surface.
There is a soft sniffle before you speak. “It’s—fuck. I’m sorry for calling you this late. I didn’t think you’d even pick up. Or be home. Are you home? Shit. I—”
“What’s wrong?” he repeats, because there has to be something wrong. You’re calling him, not your boyfriend. “Are you hurt?”
The idea of someone putting hands on you builds in his mind. It is followed by so many other possibilities. A wrecked car. Someone following you home. Everything.
“No—I mean.” You pause, sighing. The difficulty to communicate doesn’t sit right with him. You’re clearly in distress and the need to fix it is unbearable.
“Are you at home?” This time Kyle lowers his voice. Makes it soft. Gentle.
“Yes,” you answer.
He nods as if you can see him. “I’m coming over.” Kyle is already pushing off the couch, shrugging on his coat, and reaching for his keys.
“Kyle.” You say his name—just his name—and it says so much.
The ribbon between his bones loosens. Tightens. Ties his emotions and memory of you all together until your face is all he can picture.
“I’ll be there in twenty.”
Kyle makes it in fifteen.
When you answer the door, Kyle shatters like glass hurled against the wall. Your eyes are red and puffy from crying. The look on your face dances between anger, sadness, and relief. He has no idea where on the spectrum he currently sits but this vision of you only puts him back to those days when he’d come home for a few days, taking off again, leaving you with nothing for stretches at a time.
There are no awkward greetings. No embarrassed flushes. Kyle does not hesitate, and you open for him. He reaches for you, and you answer in kind, embracing Kyle so hard you might squeeze the air from his lungs.
That would be fine. Kyle would happily suffocate.
Kyle stands and holds you, breathing in your familiar scent, pressing his face into your hair. His eyes close, and it’s just like before. Like you never left him. The sensation of you this close ignites every possessive part of him. It tells him to not let go and to keep you close.
But you are not his woman. Not anymore. And yet you should be.
He does not pull away until you do. But you don’t retreat into your flat, or slip out of reach. You stay right where you are, the two of you hovering just inside the doorway. On instinct, Kyle is touching you, one hand cupping the side of your face, your tears staining his skin where he touches your flesh. His other hand is on your upper arm, thumb rubbing across the bare skin there in gentle strokes.
You begin to melt, the muscles in your body relaxing. What Kyle wants to do is to take you to the couch or the bed, to drape you over his body, to place you in his lap. That is the intimacy he craves. It’s what he would do if you were still his.
Those gorgeous lips of your part, mouth opening as if you wish to speak, but whatever you want to say is lodged in your throat. In their place come fresh tears and sudden shifts of emotions that range from frustration to despair.
You’re hurting. You’re hurting so much, and Kyle only wants to fix things.
“Look at me,” murmurs Kyle, both hands now cradling your face. “Let’s get you settled. Yeah?” You nod, your small smile forced. “Come with me,” he coaxes.
He draws away and gently reaches out to take your hand, guiding you over to the sofa. He instructs you to recline, grabbing a few more pillows and a blanket. Once you’re all tucked in, Kyle digs around in your kitchen searching for snacks while the kettle boils for tea.
The need to take care of you is overwhelming. Kyle’s head throbs from the incessant voice that tells him to get you calm, to make you comfortable, to listen when you’re ready. The routine is easy, and Kyle provides, executing what you need without prompting or even second guessing it.
And you open up for him. Thank him. Reach out with your hand to hold his as he sits next to you on the couch. You’re calmer now with your tears wiped away and your face no longer puffy.
“Ready to talk about it?”
Your thumb runs along the edge of your mug. “Still want to hear it?”
“You can tell me anything,” he replies automatically.
You lick your lips and inhale. “He yelled at me.” By the defeat in your tone, Kyle can immediately tell that this isn’t the first time.
Kyle stays quiet, allowing you to take the lead, to tell it however you need to.
“This time it happened after we met up with some of his friends. I called him ‘boyfriend’ and got a few odd looks. In the car he told me not to call him that. I didn’t understand so I pushed.” You glance down at your tea. “He screamed the whole ride home. Dropped me off here and wouldn’t even look at me.”
Kyle goes cold all over. You’ve been with this guy for almost six months and he’s upset that you referred to him as your ‘boyfriend?’ No. Fuck him. That’s fuck boy behavior. That’s a man who wants all the benefits without any of the commitment. You don’t deserve that. And this fucker doesn’t deserve you.
Sighing, you reach for your phone and unlock it, turning it around to present it. Kyle takes it, staring at the screen. There are texts upon texts from the guy, all of which you’ve left unanswered. It starts as an apology and quickly becomes angrier as he scrolls.
But you did answer him. It’s the very last message. You sent it just before you called Kyle.
We’re done, it reads.
And there is no answering reply. There are no pulsing bubbles to even indicate that he’s formulating a response.
Good. Fucking good.
Kyle extends his arm, returning the phone. You don’t lock it. You shut it down, tossing it onto the table. Placing the mug of tea down, you sit up, staring intensely into Kyle’s eyes. There is so much he sees there, but he won’t move first even though he wants to, even though he wants you to return to his arms so he can remind you just how perfect the two of you are for each other.
But sometimes memory and the movement of it are just the length of a singular breath.
Maybe it is Kyle that moves first. Maybe it is you. In moments—seconds—you are straddling Kyle’s lap, arms laced around the back of his neck, your mouths pressed together in perfectly wanton need, a reunion that shakes every bone in his body.
You are fresh air. Cold ice cream on a hot summer day. Strawberries with sugar and cream. Sweet. Perfect. And only for his consumption. That is always how it should be.
Kyle’s hands slide up your body, over every curve.
“I miss you. I miss you all the time,” you confess, fingers digging into the front of his shirt.
Your admission is validation.
“I’d never tell you to not call me ‘boyfriend,’” murmurs Kyle against your mouth before going in for another kiss. “I’d want to hear you say it all the time.”
His words are a promise. An invitation.
Take me back. Please. Choose me.
Your lips part and Kyle slides his tongue inside, relearning your flavor. It is heaven dissolving on his tongue. He chases it, chases you, until you’re tugging at his clothes, wanting them gone.
It doesn’t matter that this is your sofa. If you want him, Kyle will lay himself bare, let you have whatever the fuck you want. There isn’t much to remove from you, but once the two of you are bare and you are straddling his lap, Kyle gives all his love and attention to these next moments.
Your body briefly resists, and then it melts, allowing him entrance. Kyle wraps one arm around your waist, hand splayed over your lower back to support your weight as you roll your hips up and down his cock. His other hand holds onto the side of your throat, keeping your gaze on him as you fuck yourself on him.
It’s glorious. Perfect. You are so slick and warm around him. He never forgot, but the real thing is better than memory. Better than his hand in the shower or the dark. You are moaning, light and wavering and only for him.
Your fingers dig in, nails clawing but not tearing. On the next rock of your hips, Kyle slides deep, and the sound you make nearly snaps his control. He holds fast, hand sliding to squeeze your ass as your movements become frantic and with no purposeful rhythm. You’re seeking your end, and Kyle wants you to have it. He needs you to have it.
“Come on my cock, love. For me. Yes. Like that.” You squeeze and Kyle groans loudly. “That’s it. Fucking hell, love.
You turn your face into his neck to stifle the cry that erupts from your throat as your orgasm hits you. Kyle nearly finishes himself, your pussy a vice around him, claiming him. A shudder runs through your limbs, and then you’re nipping at Kyle’s neck and jaw.
“Finish inside me,” you whimper, drawing back enough to gaze into his eyes.
Kyle doesn’t need you to say it twice.
Changing position, Kyle slides both hands to the curve of your ass. Lifting, he shifts you until he’s propped up on his knees. Your legs drape over his arms, completely open for him. You cling to him and Kyle brings your bodies together over and over again.
He will finish—he will, but Kyle needs to hear that word first.
“Are you mine?” he asks between clenched teeth. It’s the only thing keeping him steady. He’s ready to snap, ready to release.
You nod and it isn’t enough.
“Say it.”
“Yours.”
“Mine.”
Kyle grinds his pelvis against you, rubbing perfectly across your already sensitive clit. You cry out, clench around him again, but still, he needs to hear you say it.
“What am I to you?”
“Kyle,” you moan, and he laughs.
“Not that.” A little spasm runs through you and Kyle feels it reverberate all the way to his brain. “Won’t give you what you want until you say it.”
You gasp as the next thrust punches the air from your lungs. “Boyfriend,” you manage to whimper. “You’re my boyfriend.”
Fucking right.
Kyle immediately takes you to your back on the couch, thrusting a few more times before pressing taut, sealing your bodies together as his own release overcomes him.
His mouth meets yours and Kyle’s body is singing, pulsing, and bright.
You are his.
You are his.
You are his again.
taglist:
@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @miaraei @contractedcriteria
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theycalledhimastar · 2 months
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I may love Kyle, but I can totally admit when he acts like a total weirdo (he doesn't, he's perfect).
☄. *.
Alright, for starters, man takes up all the counter space with his stuff. Unlike Simon, he is very loyal to his brands and he has a longer face care routine than you do.
Just look at his perfect skin and tell me I'm wrong because you can't, that shit's flawless and he intends to keep it that way.
Every towel in the bathroom smells like him whether or not he's used it and you will never ever figure out why.
(It's because he probably used it-)
"Kyle, did you use my towel after your shower?"
"No, why?"
"Because it literally smells like your bodywash."
"How do I know you didn't just use my bodywash?"
Don't make this about me, Kyle Garrick. You know what you did, you're just lucky your shampoo is easy on the senses. He's the one task force member that seems to be able to differentiate between what smells good and what is altogether too much.
The type of guy to have long, gorgeous eyelashes and always, ALWAYS complain about them getting in his eyes.
Like suck it up pretty boy, you're literally living my dream here with those baby doll eyelashes of yours.
He also knows it pisses you off so he tries not to mention when it happens, so you'll just catch him sitting there on the couch blinking like a madman. Trying his darndest to get the annoying eyelash from his eye without drawing attention to it. Although really and truly this just makes it more noticeable and kinda funny to watch.
Applies Chapstick in that really weird way that guys do it where they make a duck face, except he's fully self aware, he just knows it weirds you out so he exaggerates it further.
"Babe what are you doing, that's not how you apply chapstick."
"What do you mean, there's no right way to do it." :0
SLEEPS WITH HIS SOCKS ON BECAUSE HIS FEET ARE ALWAYS FREEZING!!!
Like thank you for sparing me from those absolute ice blocks, but like babe, that is unnatural. It is cruel and unusual and I will not stand for it!!
(Socks stay on during sex-)
Also prolly wears long sleeves and pants to bed regardless of how warm it is because he swears its more comfortable. Bro going to bed fully dressed, all he needs are shoes smh.
On a similar note, his hands are always cold, but instead of putting them in his front pockets or his jacket pockets like a normal guy, he walks around with his hands in his back pockets given the chance.
Doesn't think it's weird, but he walks around leaned back in order to do it and it looks goofy as hell.
Willing to advocate for you and it's really sweet, except it'll be for every single little thing. Like not just ketchup that you ordered but didn't get, if you off-handedly mention that whatever you ordered is kinda cold, he is on it immediately.
"Hey, uh, my Partner here says their food is a little cold, is there any way we could fix that please?"
Like he's not rude about it, but you still want to die inside because it's not a big deal and he doesn't seem to get that you really weren't complaining or trying to get him to fix it.
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criminalamnesia · 2 months
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If it's not too much would you consider a roommates! Gaz and Soap where you need temporary housing and they offer to put you up for a couple of months in return for some housekeeping and cooking? But then it's awkward sharing a space with three people and two bedrooms so you end up a free use maid ✨
so I’ve been thinking about this,,, and I’m actually changing your idea a little bit (I hope that’s okay!)
also I got completely carried away with this and I miiight already be thinking about a part two where things get a little spicier, like you asked! 👀 keep a look out :))
(also I will 100% write for roommate!johnny&gaz eventually but I couldn’t get this idea out of my head!)
you’re soap’s sister, and when you tell him you need a place to stay, he doesn’t hesitate.
it didn’t click in his mind how your moving in may pose a problem until he’s helping you pack your stuff into a van.
one— he lives with gaz, and he may have forgotten to tell his roommate that they’re adding a third to their already small apartment.
two— there’s only two bedrooms.
gaz was currently on a special assignment, so these two things weren’t a huge problem at the moment. johnny shoots his teammate a text, informing him of the predicament and apologizing for just now telling him.
gaz responds, obviously a little peeved, and johnny’s suddenly absorbed in his phone, trying to soothe ruffled feathers and make this work.
you’re huffing as you keep shoving boxes into the van, your muscly brother now too preoccupied to continue helping.
“little help here, johnny?” you call from the trunk, and johnny startles from his spot leaning against the side of the truck.
by the time he clicks his phone off and resumes helping you, him and gaz have settled things.
you’d have johnny’s bedroom. johnny could sleep in gaz’s room until gaz got back home. and the rest would be worked out at a later date.
————————————————
you’ve never met gaz before. sure, johnny has told you all about his teammates and his roommate in particular, but you’ve never actually met the man until now.
he makes you screech in terror, holding the broom you’d been using to sweep the kitchen up like a sword. he chuckles.
“how’d you get in here?” your eyes are wide, taking in the man in front of you, and then it clicks. you remember the pictures johnny had shown you.
this was gaz.
and fuck, he was hot.
“I live here, love.” he says, his tone obviously amused as he looks you up and down. “gonna put that down? or will I be sporting some broom-shaped bruises for the next week?”
“oh, sorry—” you scramble to put the broom down, leaning it against one of the kitchen counters. “I didn’t hear you come in, and johnny didn’t tell me you’d be home today.”
“he didn’t know,” gaz shrugged, walking further into the kitchen now that your weapon of choice had been set aside. “where is he, by the way? we’ve got a lot of talking to do. gotta figure out this room situation.”
you pick at your cuticles anxiously as you shuffle out of the way, allowing gaz to open the fridge. he grabs a bottle of water and twists the lid off, and you’re mesmerized.
wait, what?
you mentally shake yourself from your stupor.
“um, he’s at the gym i think. he should be home soon.”
gaz nods, taking a swig from his water. his eyes settle on you once more as he shuts the fridge door.
“but about the bedrooms,” you start, taking a step towards him. “johnny can have his back. im fine with the couch, and—”
“oh, absolutely not, love. I’d sooner take the couch than make you sleep on it.”
“no no,” you say, shaking your head. “I’ve already caused enough problems by moving in. please let me—”
he cuts you off again with a dazzling smile. “it’s settled, love. you’re not sleeping on the couch. and your moving in isn’t a problem, trust me.”
damn, he’s smooth. you feel your cheeks getting hot, and you have to force yourself to look away from him before you melt.
“okay, well, if you won’t let me take the couch, at least let me do the chores and stuff, yeah? it’s not like I have much else to do,” you tell him with a dry chuckle. the whole reason you’d resorted to moving in with johnny was because you were between jobs right now.
you quite literally had all the time in the world to help around the apartment.
kyle almost looks like he’s going to protest again, but he doesn’t. he must see how much you want to do this, how badly you feel for ‘interrupting’ (you’re absolutely not, and although he’d been miffed about johnny not asking him about you moving in at first, he couldn’t care less now. you were stunning).
at his silence, you give a firm nod. “alright then,” you grin, and he matches your expression. “nice to finally meet you, gaz.”
“kyle,” he says, and your smile widens the tiniest bit.
“kyle.” you say, as if testing the word out on your tongue.
“sis, y’home? I was thinking chinese for dinner!” johnny calls out as the door to the apartment opens. he steps inside, toeing off his shoes before rounding the corner to the kitchen.
“you shite!” johnny laughs out as he spots gaz in the kitchen. they both chuckle, embracing each other in short hug, slapping each other on the back.
“y’broken?” you hear johnny ask, and gaz shakes his head.
“nah, all good.”
johnny nods, patting gaz on the shoulder before his eyes shift to you.
“see y’ve met my sis,” he says, moving towards you and ruffling your hair. you groan, slapping at his hand. gaz laughs. “hope she hasn’ given ya trouble.”
“I just came in,” gaz says, eyes meeting yours for a brief moment.
“so she hasn’ had the chance yet, then,” johnny jokes, and you roll your eyes. “chinese alrigh’ gaz?”
the other man nods, and the two soldiers fall into familiar conversation. you feel as though you’re intruding, and you attempt to slip out of the kitchen unnoticed, but gaz stops you by mentioning your name.
“I was just telling your sister that she’s not sleeping on the couch,” he tells johnny, and then his eyes slide to you. you look sheepish, like a kid caught with their hand in a cookie jar.
“oh, o’course not,” johnny agrees. “I can take the couch, she’s my sister.”
“we could switch, yeah?” kyle looks at johnny. “that couch isn’t that comfortable, mate. I don’t wanna be hearin’ you complain about your back in a few days.”
johnny laughs, but nods. “sounds good. looks like you’re livin’ the life then, aye?” he says to you, and you open your mouth to speak, but kyle beats you to it.
“actually, we were just talking about all that. your lovely sister here was saying she’d like to keep the flat clean.”
“s’that so?” johnny questions, eyebrows raised as he looks at you. “y’don’t have to do that.”
“I want to, johnny. it’s the least I can do after barging in on your lives.”
you can tell by the look on your brother’s face that he’s going to argue, so you swiftly cut him off.
“no arguments! it’ll give me something to do anyways.”
johnny concedes, then excuses himself to shower. you tell him you’ll order the food as he leaves the kitchen.
you and kyle are alone again, and his eyes are trained on you. you clear your throat before fishing your phone out of your pocket.
“what’s your order?” you ask him.
kyle grins. he knows what he’s doing to you.
god, this was going to be an interesting stay.
—————————————————
author’s note:
this is my first time really writing both johnny and Kyle, so I apologize if they seem ooc!
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dmitriene · 2 months
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THOUGHTS ABOUT VENTING WITH KYLE ON THE BEACH.
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cw: tooth rotting fluff, comfort, established relationship, intimacy, lot of kisses, massaging, teasing, flirting, pet names, just a lot of romantic couple things, reader described as wearing a swimsuit. pairing: bf kyle gaz garrick x gf fem reader
author's note: that's my first ever try of writing for kyle, so he maybe might seem to ya'll ooc, or something else, but i just wanted to try and post something with him, so i hope that those who'll read it enjoy.
✎ 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵. 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴. 𝘢𝘰3. ˑ༄
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the sun and slight coolness create a pleasant atmosphere on the morning beach, there are not many people yet, the pale sand has not had time to be filled with a huge number of plastic chairs and sun loungers, while the slightly warm rays play with reflections on the water and color the sand yellowish.
your trip to the beach with kyle was completely spontaneous, an idea that emerged during the dialogue that it would be nice to get out somewhere together to relax and unwind, especially considering that kyle has been sitting more at home lately, too tired from missions and definitely missing your presence to go somewhere from the comfort of home, therefore, the best option was the sea, light warmth, cool water, the images that popped up in kyle’s head, and not even yours, looked too tempting not to voice them
— “hmm, wha' abou' a beach, then, sunshine?„
that's why you were now sitting on his tailbone while kyle lay on his stomach on top of the beach mat, letting your hands touch his dark, sun glistening skin, starting from the bottom of his back and working up the white streaks of sunscreen, the cool, sticky texture making him shiver softly, practically arching, if not for the weight of your body pressing him down while you cover every visible part of his back with sun cream.
your hands slide to his shoulder blades, tracing the defined bones and muscles that tense and limp under your touch as your thumbs press in circular motions, moving to his shoulders, and kyle turns his head to the side, catching your slightly concentrated face, which causing him to have a wide, snow white smile, revealing his pointed fangs, while he practically purrs
— “can't really ge' enough of your touch on me, sweethear'„
his shameless flirting causes a small smile to tug at the corners of your lips as your body leans forward and you move your face closer to his, placing a quick kiss on his lips as he reaches back, propping himself up on his elbows and tilting his head to capture your lips with his, rubbing with his stubble against your skin and frowning his dark thick eyebrows with displeasure when you pull away from him, sliding off him and standing on the sand, flashing him a teasing smile and murmuring, playfully
— “well, i can't smear you with sunscreen until the evening?„
kyle laughs in response, propping himself up on his elbows and stretching to warm up after lying down for a long time, letting the sun's rays fall on his skin, illuminating him as his back and abs muscles work at the same time, rippling with every movement until he is fully on his feet, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you into the air without a single problem, narrowing his dark eyes in a smile, catching the sun with them and letting them light up as he lifts you slightly, placing his hands under your ass that is slightly opened by your swimsuit, allowing him to hide your pretty parts, while your hands rest on his shoulders
— “is tha' a question, sunshine? because my answer is definitely yes„
his slightly deep voice sparkles with perkiness, causing you to playfully roll your eyes back before you reach up to kiss him softly on the cheek, placing a warm kiss where he has a scar of two scratches, which brings a burning tenderness in his gaze, encouraging him to kiss you back just as reverently, fidgeting with his slightly plump lips against yours, his slightly shaved mustache tickling your skin as he presses closer to lick your lower lip and open a passage inside your mouth, freeing one hand from under your butt, and holding you on one, he touches the back of your head, pressing you deeper into the kiss, stroking your hair, until one of you pulls away.
and kyle does it first, allowing you to greedily draw in lungfuls of air through swollen and wet lips, not even paying attention to possible looks from the passing people, before you are brought back to reality by unexpected, literally childish behavior on his part, when he leans down and touches your nose with his, before biting the tip of your nose, and you gasp, your eyes immediately widening in surprise, before you furrow your brows and pinch his own nose, and he just breaks out into loud laughter, his body shaking and you with him while you mutter threateningly
— “you do this one more time and i would bury you in the sand, garrick!„
the laughter immediately becomes quieter, softening as he rubs his eyes from the slight accumulation of moisture there from approaching tears, before starting to walk towards the open sea along the sand, still holding you in his arms, even despite the slight frown in your eyebrows and feigned offense at his action, although it still touches him, which is why he bounces you slightly in his arms, jumping up, pressing his cheek against yours with an airy smooch and purring smugly
— “aww, come on, i'm sorry, sunshine, let's enjoy the woter, shall we?„
you look at kyle with suspicion, sincere, narrowing your eyes when he turns his head to look at you, smiling sickly sweetly, knowing that his charm always works without unnecessary problems, but you still give him a small warning, making him snort, but one way or another, listen to the end
— “don't try to pull out something silly again, i dare you„
he nods, as if obediently, but you see that sparkle in his brown eyes and it leaves nothing good to be desired, especially when kyle still gives you his answer, far from an agreement, but you can’t help but smile at his playfulness, sighing and resigned as you lay your head on top of his, kissing the top of his dark, curly hair, almost imperceptibly, but kyle is aware of your every warm touch
— “don' promise you anything, sweetie, but i migh' try„
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bagofshinyrocks · 5 months
Text
The Whole Bakery
Prompt: How will the boys respond to an S/O who slaps their ass out of nowhere? [Requested by @airghostlyfox]
Featuring: Task Force 141 (CoD: MW2) - John Price, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish (separately) x GN!Reader
Word Count: 0.8k
Warnings: expletives; lightly suggestive content
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There he was. Making his morning cup of coffee. Comfortable sleep clothes and sluggish movement. Your handsome partner. 
He had finally freed himself from the blanket web and your comfortable arms, with the intent to go through most of his “honey-do” list that weekend.
And he was so unaware.
That your arm was winding up for a powerful smack to his ass.
John Price
The sound was not as impressive due to his sweatpants, but the way he jerked and slowly put down the things in his hands was reward enough. He did not appreciate it. And he did not turn around.
“Luv,” he said in an even tone. “What the hell was that?”
You rubbed the offended cheek with the same hand, deciding against pinching, as he would win any fight you started. 
“My darling John. Your ass is just so wonderful, I can’t help myself.” 
Both hands gently squeezed his ass. And you pressed an apologetic kiss between his bare shoulder blades.
“You’ve got the whole bakery right here, bubba.” Gentle pats. Still no movement of his neck. “All these buns.”
Finally, he turned around.
He was trying very hard not to smile. Trying not to encourage you. But goddamn, did you look pleased with yourself. Strong arms wrapped around your middle, pressing you to his chest.
“You are-” Kiss. “Such a flirt.” Kiss. “And absolutely shameless.”
You kissed him back and lazily threw your arms over his shoulders.
Behind you, his arm raised itself and smacked your ass as hard as he possibly could. You folded into him with a yelp.
“GOD FUCKIN–!”
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Simon Riley
The moment your hand left his cheek, he had turned on you and grabbed you under the armpits.
“Uh oh” was all you had the chance to say before he dragged you off to the nearest wall. He was smiling, but it was the smile that meant you were still in trouble. You chuckled nervously as he settled you against the wall, caging you in and leaning in close.
“You are a cheeky one,” he purred.
“Yessir.”
“Any particular reason we’re playful this morning?”
You wriggled your arms out of his grip, and settled your hands over his ass again. He let you, one of his fingers tapping your nose.
“Well, if you must know, Simon,” you said, adopting a matter-of-fact tone. “It is because your ass is just so delicious looking.”
He snorted at your blunt words and hid his eyes with his hand.
“Bloody hell.”
“I mean, just look at it, lover.” You firmly gripped his ass, squeezing ever so slightly. “All this cake.”
He sighed, but he was still laughing. You’re adorable. He loves you.
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Kyle Garrick
You didn’t smack too, too hard. A peace offering for walking around in his boxers and nothing else. Your favorite outfit on him.
But he still jumped and gave you a dirty look.
“It is 8 in the morning, you shit.”
You turned him back around and massaged his ass, humming a cheerful tune. “I’m just gonna knead this yummy dough, don’t mind me.”
“You a cat? Making biscuits?”
You giggled and kissed the back of his neck.
“Oh, have you got some biscuits on you, loverboy.”
He couldn’t help but laugh into his cup, turning himself around and pulling you into his embrace. Soft, coffee-flavored kisses. Then his arms snaking lower, and his own hands settling on your ass.
“I think that’s one of the sweetest things you’ve ever said to me.”
“Sweeter than ‘I love you’?”
He squeezed your ass and pulled you impossibly closer to him.
“Mm,” he sighed into your mouth. “Tied for first.”
You pulled back and narrowed your eyes.
“What? Oh, right. I love you, too, baby.”
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Johnny MacTavish
Of all the boys, he has no right to complain. A chronic ass-slapper. Repeat offender groper. Can’t sleep without one hand one you, be it your arm, your stomach, or your leg.
He was singing some song to himself, dancing a little. Background noise that kept him from hearing you until it was too late.
“Steaming bloody-”
You hit him too hard. Oh no. Oh no, no, no. You ducked out of his grasp and started pleading for forgiveness.
“Baby, I’m sorry, that was harder than I meant. I’m sorry. I’m sor- shit.”
A mad scramble around the kitchen island. Never had you run away from your bare-chested Scotsman so quickly.
“Get your arse back here!”
“Nuh uh!”
“Fuck you mean-” He vaulted over the island and you screamed. Like a bird of prey, he grabbed you and dragged you to the couch, falling on top of you with all his weight.
“I’m sorry, baby,” you wheezed.
He smothered your face and neck in kisses, and accepted your apology. He would get you back later. With less force but greater number of ass slaps. You were sure of it.
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Enjoy reading this? Here's a link to my other works! Thanks for reading :-)
Posted: 2023 Dec 12
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ornateorchid · 4 months
Text
thinking about gaz with an elementary school teacher!reader.
he loves to surprise you on his days off by visiting your classroom. your students are infatuated with him, asking plenty of questions and getting all bouncy and cheerful. he's an exciting visitor and your kids are fascinated with the watered-down stories he tells about his job (he tells them about leaping out of flying helicopters and jumping off of burning buildings. they think he's some sort of super hero) gaz doesn't mind spending time in your classroom; it makes him happy that he's a memorable guest that your students constantly ask about.
the kids have a field day whenever he brings food or snacks with him when he pops in. their energy is sky-high, and it takes everything in them not to run up and tackle gaz. he doesn't mind the affection. it's cute to see their tiny little bodies wrap around his, their smiles so big and bright. it's just as adorable watching your students show him the pictures they colored while in art class or tell him about what they learned in science. gaz has a soft spot for kids and an even softer spot for your students.
he helps you with your workload by grading papers or assisting the kids with their work. he doesn't know a single thing about teaching, but gaz loves to help so you have more time for him at home :((
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eilidh-eternal · 3 months
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I need Kyle Master Chef™️ Garrick in my kitchen, in nothing but those slutty grey sweatpants, cooking me a bomb ass curry or jollof rice😩
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alwaysshallow · 3 months
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how you get the girl
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Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x female reader
READ ON AO3
You spend Valentine's Day with your best friend, perfectly oblivious to his feelings to you. (3k)
A/N: an exchange gift for @tokusho!! hope you like it; Kyle is a sweetheart!! a sweetheart that loved you from the very start, it would be proper to say. I wouldn't be myself if I wouldn't include smut in it lmao
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People love winter for multiple reasons.
First, school doesn't bug them that much. Sure, there’s always something to do, but it’s calmer around Christmas time and February, when all of the exams are over. Time for yourself, learning new hobbies or expanding current ones. Cute.
It's also the best to spend this time on travelling—around the world or near the area someone lives in. No matter where, it’s good to take a breath and visit your family or friends, too.
Or just to wander around your town, taking in nature and thinking about mundane things, far from the school, far from the boring reality someone is in. When you can just be amazed by the view right in front of you, thinking how small the world really is, how grateful you are to be here.
Secondly, it's a cozy season. You can get lost in watching those silly romcom movies, trying to bake something edible from the various cooking shows that are out here. Wanting to be at least half as good as Gordon Ramsay is, or to serve the best cake in the world. Everyone makes it so effortless, it’s only natural to want to try it too.
Does it work?
Well, based on your own experience, you're certainly better at it, but cinnamon rolls are by far the best thing you can make—mostly because it can't be too sweet. And your main problem? Making things way too sweet. Not because you like it that way, not because you have someone who likes it that way, you just… Well, let's say, you like to skip the amount of things you have to add.
Everything is "on eye" and maybe it works with cooking, but certainly not baking.
All of those reasons could be your reasons why you would like winter. Could—because you have one that is way more important than baking or being alone.
Because this is the season when you see Kyle Garrick after months of being apart. You see his dumb smile whenever you open the door for him, how happy he is to be here. How he literally can’t wait to step into your house and be here for a couple of weeks since that’s how he uses his leave. Couple of days for other friends and catching around. The rest is for you.
Kyle is your friend from high school. Years spent together in the same classes, parties, he was—still is—a dear friend that had your back, and you had his, always, no matter how shitty the situation was.
Inseparable, that’s what you were. Attending the same practices, no matter if it was a football one, art classes or something else; you always were here for a good laugh, especially if you sucked at some activities.
Everyone around always saw you together. There were even a few rumors about you two dating, but it never came down to this, to being together despite years of flirting and a few innocent kisses, there and there. You two didn’t even talk about this, much to your dismay.
Maybe you would, if he didn’t leave for the military. Tough separation, leaving you on ice with no one to help you to get up and get your shit together because life doesn’t only depend on one boy that you’re hopelessly devoted to. Took a couple of months, but you eventually got used to it—being with him for a couple of days or weeks to see him leaving for another couple of months. Weeks.
You sometimes wonder if he has someone out there. Waiting there for him in the military, even if it’s forbidden at some point. Or, maybe he has some medic that always patches him up after the missions, a small smile at her lips, keeping his secrets. Keeping his bed warm, making the whole thing easier because she’s always gonna be around. No matter what.
“—and he’s just a moron.”
But maybe if he did have someone, he wouldn’t spend Valentine’s Day with you.
You look up at him, a confused look on your face, but you manage to give him a smile. He probably talks about the movie that you two are watching; a classic romcom, Love Actually, but you’re not sure. You got too lost in your thoughts to know who he is calling a moron and give it more than a second of your thinking.
He seems to know that. An arch of his eyebrows exposes him, appearing when he always thinks of something a little too much. Military habit, he once explained, but it makes you chuckle every time.
“Who’s a moron?” you ask, deciding not to act dumb—it wouldn’t work in front of him. Not when he knows the pattern of your thoughts, not when you two know each other inside out.
“Him. I would give up on a girl that’s taken, sure, especially if she’s nothing but eye candy. A stupid desire that would end the friendship. But he literally filmed her through the entire wedding,” he mutters, his fingers curling slowly the ends of your hair. He repeats the action several times, even if he talks. You think it’s soothing him in some way. “She had to mean everything for him.”
“It’s about the art of letting go. She was in love with his best friend, it’s… not that simple.” You shrug; for some reason, Kyle barks a laugh at that. Startled, you punch him with your elbow and you take a little distance. “What? You don’t agree? Come on, you wouldn’t do it.”
“Well, ‘m not the one to do it normally, but if I’d be obsessed enough to keep my eyes only on her, I might as well give it a better chance before she gets married,” he huffs. If you didn’t know him like you do, you’d suspect that there's a bitterness somewhere in it, the way he says it. Mad, almost like it’s about him, and a single thought about it makes you sick in your stomach. “Wouldn’t you?”
You gulp. It feels like an interrogation, not a simple talk between two best friends about a romantic comedy that you just watched. There’s a hardness in his tone, demand for answer. “No. I’d put his happiness before mine. If he’s happy, if he has plans that don't involve me in some way, maybe that’s only right. Especially if it’s like this for some time right now.”
It’s not the confession itself, it’s not your feelings with your heart that you put on a silver platter for him to take, but it speaks. It screams, suffocated so many years under the water because you don’t want to ruin anything that’s between you two. Maybe it would be easier in high school, maybe before that prom where he went with Lizzie instead of you, but it didn’t happen.
So, in your mind, it’s something that needs to be buried deep. Six feet underground, where you could meet your feelings from time to time with all the memories that followed it. When you’d eventually move on, but it doesn’t happen.
A small ding in the kitchen rescues you from the fiasco that could happen with this conversation; suddenly, you have to check on your cookies and decorate them, as you always have. Year by year, something sweet; a recompensation for being single so many years in a row.
It doesn’t take much time to have Kyle looming over you like a vulture, curious what you have here. It doesn’t take much time for him to help you; clumsily, but he does a cute job with decorating, even if it’s way too much cream there and there. You have no heart to tell him that, though. And, it doesn’t take him much time to think that’s way too boring for now, so he should do something different.
Something different: dance with you, like he always has. An old song playing from his phone, one hand on your waist, while the other hand travels to make you move. He doesn’t talk (he never does when you two dance, not unless you’re gonna start doing that), he just looks at you. Chocolate brown eyes staring into yours, like they’re trying to see something in yours.
“Boyfriend material,” you could say; and you do, without realizing it at first—Kyle’s smile gives it away.
“I mean, can’t say no to that.” He grins, happy. You, right now, want to kill yourself in some way. “I’m pretty useful in many ways, if I have to say so myself. I mean, just think of how many times you’ve been impressed with me already.” He chuckles, turning you around and around with seemingly no problem. He’s always like this; charming, boyish. Making you fall right into the trap with his eyes, straight up from a fairytale.
He is, in fact, from a fairytale. Too perfect to be real and too perfect to be single, guys like him are always snatched from the public. Kept close the heart because every woman in the world deserves someone like him.
“Your ego could be tempered, though.” You poke his chest (ridiculously hard chest), while he laughs again.
“Always charming. You love my ego,” he points out. You might not agree out loud, but in your mind? Oh, hell yes. Not debatable.
You’d give everything to love him properly. To cherish him, to make him happy when he’s on leave with kisses, gifts, with taking him to your family so he’ll have a scrap of normal life. To wake up beside him in bed, arms sneaked around you with a dose of protectiveness that he always has, even if it’s not the romantic one like you want it to be.
“And you’re thinking way too much, pretty,” he chuckles, leaning over you even more. The size difference between you two is evident and big, encouraging him. Always had, especially when he knows how much of an impact he has like that. “Care to share?”
“Usual shit,” you answer, clearing your throat. Two beats of silence pass, when he sighs and turns you around one more time, pulling you closer to himself. Chest to chest, or—your head to his chest, to be exact. You have to look up at him to see his eyes. “Kyle—”
“—is it about that movie we watched? You love someone that you can’t have?” He shoots a question at you; unexpected, a swift bullet going right through you. Making you tremble, feeling like you’re not in a warm house, but in the busy, cold street in London in your underwear only.
“No, it’s—”
“—Because if so, why didn’t you tell me? I bet there’s a way—”
“—there’s no way, that’s the problem. That’s the problem because you’re funny, handsome and you probably have someone here, way more interesting than me, so I don’t understand why you are here right now. I don’t, I won’t…” You breathe. There’s a lot in you right now, way too much to unload it right now.
“You love me?”
The choice of words, so carefully avoided by you the whole time, dawns on you. Makes an unpleasant feeling in your stomach, the presence of thousands of butterflies informing you that, in fact, you do love him. Always had, even if you denied to use these specific words.
“Since high school.” It’s a quiet confession. Almost shy, but you look him straight in the eye when you say that, taking a step back when he takes a step forward.
“And why you… didn’t tell me sooner?”
“Wanted to. But when you took that girl to the prom, something…” You sigh. Taking a moment because for the first time, you need to be honest about your feelings. “I don’t know, something snapped. I thought it would ruin everything between us, I thought it’s not worth it to say that I want something more when you want someone else. And, after you got around the idea of being in the military—”
He steals the rest of the words with a kiss. Soft, indicating you don’t need to say more than you’ve already said because it’s all he needs to know, actually. It’s the first time he does it completely sober, not driven by alcohol, curiosity or some dare—it’s something that he wants to do, and you can feel it on your lips. The hot feeling of desire, when your hands travel under his t-shirt, where you didn’t have access earlier.
“Took her only because Jake said he’s going with you. I had no idea that he was lying,” he whispers out. Nervous, like he might spill some secret, while you just can’t keep yourself from smiling. “I wanted this,” he points at you and himself after another kiss, “since I’ve fuckin’ left. Got sick thinking of other bloody bastards that could—”
“Thinking too much?” you interrupt him, reminding him of his words from earlier. Words that, right now, seem even more appropriate given the situation between you two and how unimportant the past is.
Garrick huffs with disbelief, amused. “A fucking minx you are, y’know that?”
He doesn’t let you say anything in response, as his teeth clack against yours when he kisses you, hastily, like a man starved. Hands going around your waist just to transfer the two of you to your bedroom, decorated for Valentine's Day, unintentionally.
And maybe it makes sense, when you think of everything he has done for you, when he’s on top of you, placing a map of kisses on your body. Maybe it makes sense how he always brought you something on Valentine’s Day, making you feel special. Always saying that it’s a “commercial event” and nothing else, just a day, even if he always brought you flowers, teddybears and chocolates.
How he always spent it on doing your favorite things. Ice rink, going to a match, movies, it didn’t matter—what mattered was you. How he didn’t deny that you’re a couple when some strangers cooed that you two look absolutely perfect with each other. Only a big smile on his face, arm around you, protectively. Making sure that you’re here with him, not anywhere else.
He always keeps you close, even right now, insisting on holding hands when he fucks you, making you fall in love with the idea. Kyle moves slowly, like he wants to remember every inch of your body for the first time you’re so close with him, but it doesn’t last long. It doesn’t because it takes a couple of your moans and he goes mad crazy about the whole thing.
Between the sudden rough, fast pace of his thrusts, he talks a lot. You don’t get much of it, melted into a puddle of your own thoughts; you wanted it so bad. Fantasized, touched yourself to the thought of him to have him right here, right now, and now he’s rutting into you like a maniac. Spreading you open like it’s not even a challenge for him, which makes it easy to ignore the first pain of his cock in you.
When one of his hands circles around your throat (one hand still holding yours, fingers intertwined, like he insisted on doing), you pay more attention to his words, even if they’re incoherent. Messy, he lets every thought flow out of his mind, no matter if they have end or not, no matter if he said something similar or not. You are the one thing that entangles them, even if his words make you feel more and more weak in your knees. How good you are for him, how he’s not gonna give this pussy to anyone, how much your body will make him lose his shit.
He makes the whole thing way more intimate than it already is, luring you into the endless pleasure with him, when he leaves hickeys on your skin, a mark that he was here. Making you depend on him, intoxicating like a couple of colorful drinks, always making you dizzy, but nonetheless, you always want more, until you’re gonna see stars.
And that’s what you see with Kyle Garrick. It doesn’t even feel real, until your fingernails scratch his bare back and your fingers from the other hand tighten around his. Your legs are weak for him, your whole body is.
You feel it twice as hard when he comes too, babbling the whole time about you being the only woman in his life and marrying you. In a bliss, you only smile, kissing his forehead a couple of times, when he hugs you tight, like he doesn’t want you to leave the bed.
Not like you planned to do it anyway.
“Happy Valentine’s Day,” he murmurs against your shoulder, moving a little; you feel how his cum leaks from you. His softened cock still in you, as Garrick apparently doesn’t feel like pulling it out.
“The best Valentine’s Day,” you correct him with a lazy smile on your face. Content, for the first time in the while.
Garrick nods, slowly. “Yeah. Ended up in having sex, so—”
“—you’re the worst,” you laugh, shaking your head. Kyle seems almost scared for a moment, but when he sees that you’re genuinely laughing, he breathes out. “Only because of that? Not because your best friend basically confessed her feelings to you?”
“That too. Obvious option.” He grins, while you smack him with amusement. Kyle bites your shoulder, leaving another mark, while his other hand ruffles your hair.
You groan. “You’re gonna explain it tomorrow to my parents. All those hickeys and bites, young man.”
“You think they’re gonna be mad? Gonna tell them we’re together and they will ask about children,” he laughs; and he’s completely right about it, though. Your parents were cheering for you two from the start, they probably still do. “Anyway, we should order something. I don’t feel like cooking when I have you in bed.”
You huff, amused. “Romantic.”
“Very,” he snides, pulling you closer. His hand travels south, fingers circling near your clit. “Delivery will take some time, so we have to… make use of the time. You tired yet?”
“No, but—”
“—Fantastic.”
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gloomwitchwrites · 13 days
Text
Just Like Dad (2 of 4)
Content & Warnings: referenced military career, domestic fluff, some humor, canon-typical swearing, Kyle is a girl dad
Word Count: 935
A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series
An evening of peace is interrupted when Kyle has to answer questions about what he does for a living.
ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // just like dad masterlist
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Peace is shattered.
It always is when you have a kid.
It’s not just scraped knees or melted ice cream splattered on the pavement. Sometimes, peace is shattered because your child is a feral goblin who decides disturbing your sleep is the perfectly logical thing to do.
Wearing a pink onesie, standing in the bedroom doorway with her little fist raised and clutching a thin piece of paper, you and Kyle’s six-year-old daughter is ominously backlit by the hallway light. Kyle blinks, a little stunned by the sight before him. You shift beside him, one hand reaching out to him, murmuring his name.
There are a few seconds between her sudden appearance and the leap onto the bed. She spider-crawls like a thing out of a horror movie.
“Bloody hell,” groans Kyle, pinching the bridge of his nose as his daughter perches like a gargoyle next to him.
“Daddy,” she whispers.
You are already awake, turning over onto your back with squinted eyes as you’re blasted by the bright light of the hallway.
Before you can even speak, Kyle is shaking his head, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I’ve got this,” he groans, sitting up to turn on the bedside light. You glance at your daughter before returning to your original position.
Kyle rests his forearms on his bent knees, staring at his daughter who gazes at him with a peppy eagerness like she’s just eaten a cake heavily coated in icing. She shouldn’t have this much energy at this late hour.
“Go to bed,” says Kyle. “It’s past bedtime.”
She clutches the thin piece of paper. “I wanted to show you earlier.”
While Kyle is typically indulgent when it comes to her, he’s not feeling that way at the moment. He only wants to sleep.
“It’s late, bug,” he replies. “Tomorrow.”
She shakes her head, her tight curls bouncing slightly. “I didn’t know what to put here. You don’t talk about your job.” She points to a spot on the paper, and Kyle frowns as he peers closer.
Fuck.
It’s one of those questionaries where the child answers all these questions about themselves, and several pertain to her parents and what they do. She has left that entire section blank. Kyle understands that schools do this so that the students can build identity in their community while also making connections with classmates.
But she’s right. Kyle doesn’t talk about his job. At least not with her. You, his wife, are an entirely different story. You, the one who has been through nearly all of it, is the only person who truly knows everything. His daughter is far too young to know specifics or to fully comprehend the sheer violence of his work.
“You’re right, love. I don’t.”
“Why?” she asks automatically.
This is not a conversation he wants to be having. She needs to be in bed, and Kyle should be asleep and spooning you before he has to take this feral fiend of a daughter to school in the morning.
Kyle sighs and runs his hand over his face. “Where is this coming from?”
Her face falls slightly, and then becomes steel. “I want to be like you,” she says. “I want to grow up and be strong.”
No, babygirl. No. You don’t want to be like me.
You stir beside him, shifting like you’re about to turn and join the conversation. But Kyle knows you need your rest, and this isn’t the sort of conversation he desires to have this late at night.
That hardness melts away, and Kyle’s heart fractures slightly. She’s so small and yet so determined. Her little fist clutching the paper shakes slightly as if asking him is taking all her strength.
“Give me the paper.” Her smile widens as she hands it over. “And go turn off the hall light.” She groans loudly and Kyle shushes her as she throws herself off the bed and drags herself to the hall.
The light flicks off, and then she’s rushing back to him. He pats the side of the bed, and she crawls in, curling up next to him as he grabs the book off his bedside table.
“Pencil?” he asks, and she whips one out, her smile wide.
Kyle snorts and snags it, twirling it end-over-end as he tries to formulate an answer to the questions. Some of that gentle humor slips away, falling into memory, all the lead and blood and carnage comes back, roaring in his ears.
He takes a deep breath, silencing it all.
Graphite touches paper, and Kyle begins jotting down answers to all the things his daughter didn’t answer. She rests her head against his shoulder, watching the pencil scratch across the paper.
When he’s done, he presents the paper, and his daughter takes it reverently, as if all the secrets she doesn’t have are now suddenly before her. She does not take the pencil as she slips off the bed and starts to sprint for the door. She comes to a halt and turns on her heel, running back to him.
“Thanks, Daddy,” she says a little too loud before kissing his cheek and heading out into the hall.
The bed shifts, and Kyle turns to look at you as you twist to face him.
“What did you write?” you murmur.
Kyle sighs and shuts off the bedside light. He snuggles in, and you reach for him in the dark. Wrapping his arms around you, he pulls you close, inhaling your scent, allowing his mind to drift toward dreaming.
“A nice truth,” replies Kyle softly just before he slips into sleep.
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