#kyle gaz garrick angst

[sinkovia]

Silence

Kyle Garrick x Fem!Reader

Angst, violence, blood, mention of death.

Masterlist

For weeks, he had been planning to propose, to ask you to spend the rest of your lives together in love and happiness. He had envisioned the moment countless times in his mind, rehearsing the words he would say and imagining the joy on your face when you said yes.

But fate had other plans, cruel and unforgiving. On what was supposed to be a routine mission, Kyle and you found yourselves captured by the enemy. Bound and helpless, you both were subjected to interrogation, the enemy demanding information that could jeopardize the entire team.

In the danger surrounding the both of you, the thought of the proposal lingered in Kyle's mind. He couldn't help but wonder if he would ever get the chance to ask you to marry him, to express his love and commitment in the way he had always dreamed.

As he felt the weight of the small box in his pocket, Kyle prayed silently for a miracle, for a chance to make his proposal a reality and to begin building the future he had envisioned with you.

They observed the way you and Kyle gazed at each other, bound in chairs mere feet apart, the silent communication of love and desperation passing between you. It was a connection they sought to exploit.

A vulnerability.

With brass knuckles clenched in their fists, they loomed over Kyle, their intentions clear in their presence. One of them approached you, his voice laced with malice "Answer our questions, and we won't hurt him," You could only nod in response, your heart heavy with the knowledge that any refusal would only result in pain for Kyle.

Despite the agony of betrayal that gnawed at your conscience, you answered every question they posed without hesitation. Laswell and Nikolai's names spilled from your lips, your loyalty to Kyle outweighed only by your determination to protect him from harm. It was a choice made in an instant, fueled by love and the primal instinct to shield the one you cherished most from suffering.

As their focus shifted back to you, the tape sealing your lips felt like a cruel reminder of your helplessness. Despite the fear and pain that gripped you, you found solace in the unwavering trust you held for Kyle. In the depths of your soul, you knew he would do whatever it took to protect you.

As the men approached, their footsteps echoing ominously in the cramped confines of the room, you met Kyle's gaze with unspoken reassurance. You trusted Kyle implicitly, knowing that he would give them the answers they sought in order to spare you from any harm. Kyle had always placed your well-being above his own, never hesitating to shield you from danger or sacrifice his own safety for yours.

You knew he would do the same for you just as you did for him.

“Where is John Price?” Kyle remained resolute, his jaw clenched in a defiant line. He couldn't bring himself to betray the trust of his comrades, couldn't sell out Price and the others to save himself or even you.

Your heart sank as you witnessed Kyle's refusal to comply with the enemy's demands. Desperation clawed at you as you attempted to provide the answers they sought, but your efforts were futile, your words reduced to muffled noises by the tape sealing your lips. The realization that Kyle's silence was placing you in imminent danger filled you with a profound sense of horror.

With each passing moment, the torment inflicted upon you only heightened Kyle's anguish. The sight of their cruel hands leaving bruises on your skin, the sound of your muffled screams echoing in the room—each moment tore at Kyle's soul, filling him with a profound sense of helplessness and despair.

Every fiber of Kyle's being screamed for him to intervene, to put an end to your suffering, but he knew that yielding to their demands would mean betraying everything he stood for. He couldn't allow himself to falter, couldn't let down Price or the team, even if it meant sacrificing everything he held dear.

Kyle clung to the hope that the team would arrive in time to rescue you from this nightmare, to put an end to the agony and bring you both to safety. With each passing moment, he prayed silently for their arrival, willing them to come to your aid before it was too late.

With each brutal blow that rained down upon you, your world became a blur of agony and despair. Your vision swam, the relentless assault leaving you feeling as though your very essence was being torn apart. Despite the overwhelming pain and the sensation of your body betraying you, a flicker of strength remained within you, allowing you to cast a desperate gaze toward Kyle.

But to your dismay, Kyle's gaze remained averted, his attention fixed elsewhere as though he couldn't bear to witness the torment he unwittingly allowed to unfold. The realization pierced through the haze of agony, leaving you reeling with a profound sense of betrayal. How could the man you loved, the one you thought would always be there to protect you, turn away when you needed him most? In that moment of anguish and despair, the truth hit you like a sledgehammer.

Kyle's loyalty to the team outweighed his love for you.

The thought cut deep, shattering the illusions of security and affection you had once held dear. As the pain and betrayal consumed you, you couldn't help but wonder if the love you had believed in had ever truly existed.

“Dead already?”

As the echoes of their callous laughter reverberated through the room, Kyle's heart sank like a stone. Slowly, he raised his tear-streaked gaze, his eyes falling upon the devastating sight before him. There you were, slumped over in the chair, your once vibrant spirit extinguished, your form shrouded in a veil of crimson.

The weight of your lifeless presence hung heavy in the air, a chilling reminder of the irreversible consequences of his silence. Tears streamed down Kyle's face unabated, his hands trembling against the restraints that held him captive.

The unbearable burden of guilt pressed down upon him, suffocating him with the crushing weight of remorse. With each tear that fell, Kyle's anguish deepened, knowing that his refusal to speak had sealed your fate.

As the team finally arrived to rescue you both, Kyle's heart shattered into a million pieces. He fell to his knees before you, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch your bloodied skin.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice choked. "I should have protected you. I should have never let this happen."

He begged for your forgiveness, his apologies a futile attempt to atone for his unforgivable failure. His words fell like broken fragments against the silence of the room, each apology a futile attempt to turn back time and undo the horror that had unfolded before his eyes.

Your lifeless form slouched in the chair, surrounded by a pool of crimson. Kyle's pleas for forgiveness fell upon deaf ears, his words lost in the suffocating silence that enveloped the room. The team watched in solemn silence, their hearts heavy with grief, as Kyle's agonized apologies echoed through the chamber.

In that moment, as he knelt there beside you, Kyle couldn't help but imagine a different scenario. He envisioned himself on his knees before you, a ring in his hand and a question on his lips, ready to pledge his love and devotion to you for all eternity.

But now, as he stared at your lifeless form, battered and broken, he realized that he would never get the chance to ask you to be his wife. The future they had once dreamed of together lay shattered at his feet, a casualty of the silent agony that had consumed him.

With each passing moment, the weight of his failure pressed down upon him, suffocating him with the knowledge that he had failed you when you needed him most.

As he continued to plead for forgiveness, his voice lost in the emptiness of the room, Kyle knew that he would carry the guilt of your death with him for the rest of his days, a haunting reminder of the love he had lost and the promises left unfulfilled.

[katzenmas]

just imagine cbf!Gaz seeing you again after ten years. Last time he saw you was when you guys finished your GCSEs. somehow you still looked the same even after all these years. the loud laugh that you barked out in the midle of the supermarket made him do a 160 degree turn.

he knew that godawful laugh, and it belonged to a snarky mean girl he knew as a kid. she was awful, always making fun of him in some way or another, showing up at his house like she owned it, eating his snacks and staying for dinner that his ma prepared. you were a nuisance at first. just some kid that moved in two houses down. then you became a thorn at his side when you caught him staring at your old my little pony dolls.

that very day, under the hot summer sun, napes sticky with sweat and lips tugged into smiles while you and Kyle played with your dolls, a beautiful friendship was born.

both of you started school, as fate would have it, you were conveniently placed as classmates. always going to and coming back from school together. never once did you grow apart. during those eleven years in school you and kyle both got new friends, different friendgroups but never lost sight of each other.

but then he joined the military. he finished his exams and got his acceptance letter into bootcamp the same day. his excited expression fell from his face when he saw how you clutched the letter he gave you a bit more tightly. your eyes looked up into his, with white molten rage simmering in your irises.

' I will be protecting you! protecting the whole country' he was screaming. nervous hands running to run his fingers through his hair, small puffs of air heaving out of kyle's chest.

' Yes by killing other people who are doing the same thing Kyle! don't you get it? you are just a body to them, you will be replaced by some other idiot kid who thinks he can be a hero' your yell tore through his room. you two have been at it for hours now. his whole room was a mess, things were thrown in the heat of the moment, some old football trophy lay broken next to a sweater of his that you threw at kyle's head.

'please, just stay' you were much quieter, your tone pleading, begging him to reconsider. ' just stay with me, be safe with me'

next morning he took his bags and left for bootcamp.

it's been ten years since that. turns out you still live in the small town you guys grew up in, or maybe you're visiting our parents? kyle's mind is running a hundred miles per hour, looking over at your form, trying to notice what had changed.

the first thing he noticed was your hair. it was no longer styled in the edgy way you liked to keep it during your rebellious teenage years. it was your natural hair color, a few strands framed your face and shook round as you laughed with your shopping partner.

the next thing he noticed were your hands. your fingers more specifically. kyle was looking each of your fingers, trying to notice even the smallest flash of metal. of a ring. he came up empty handed.

before he could choose another part of you to analyze, the loud sound of glass breaking got him to look up.

the jar of pickles you were holding slipped from your hands. your fingers were shaking, eyes trained on him, frozen in stupor. kyle saw the gears turn in your head, he could almost see the memories of your fight flashing by your eyes. your friend placed a hand on your shoulder but you ignored it, staring kyle down with a cold gaze.

a few beats of silence streched for far longer than kyle would have liked, so he broke it.

'hey there! its been years' he tried to sound casual about it but it came out a bit forced, his voice sounded like there was soemthing lodged in the back of his throat. he outstretched his arm and moved closer to you, but was left frozen mid action as you turned your back towards him and just picked another jar of pickled from the shelf in front of you.

you did not dignify him kyle with a response, hellbent on acting like he was not even standing there. you shook your head and turned to your friend, a smile graced your lips again as you pushed your trolley past Kyle, never looking at him again.

' did you know that guy?'

'i dont think so, can't remember him' kyle felt his heart shatter.

-----

idk where i was going with this. it was supposed to be a smutty one at first and then i was like hmmm... haven't written agnst yet. so yeah.

[sofasoap]

First time - part 1

Pairing : Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x F!reader

Summary: years of pinning, you find an excuse to get close to your best friend, Kyle.

Part of Gaz Fest 2023

Warning : M rating. Slight angst. Pinning. Friend to lovers. slight talk about bedroom related stuff.

A/N: Thank you @glitterypirateduck for organising the writing festival!! * cheering *

Enjoy!!

Master list

“Kyle.”

“Mmm?”  Sipping on his beer, he answered absentmindedly as he watched their group of friends playing darts, competition heating up. 

“Can you take my virginity?”

Gaz nearly choked to death. You sighed and lightly thump his back. You knew it was a bad idea. Before he does anything you probably kill him with a heart attack and choking to death with liquid bread. 

It took you weeks of self deliberating with the demons and angels and logic vs heart to summon up the courage to ask your friend.

Your best friend. 

Your partner in crime

Your childhood crush. 

The (one sided) love of your life. 

“You… You want me… “ still coughing away, he pointed at himself , and back at you. 

One single strong nod, you averted your eyes downwards, your hand fidgeting with the tumbler glass in your hand, not elaborating more. 

Shuffling closer to you as he lowers his voice, “Are you Ok? Someone pressuring you? Who’s the asshole?“ Getting agitated, he stood up from chair, ready to defend your honour. To protect you. 

Shaking your head as you take a sip of the strong whisky you decided to order to help you loosen up and gives you a bit more courage to ask him. “No one pressured me Kyle. I promise.” 

“Then why–” he opened his mouth, confused and … is that bit of hope? As he stares at you, waiting for an answer.  

“I… I am just.. “ You are just sick of people’s judgements. All your other friends and workmates talk enthusiastically about their life and sex lives, and you just felt… left out? You don’t know how to contribute to the conversation, since you don't have any stories of your own. The logical side of you knows it’s silly to think that way. You are not a teenager anymore, why would you care about others opinion or letting the social norms affect you?

Or , deep down, you just want to fit in. Want to be part of the “club.” Or the selfish part of you is just trying to find some sort of excuse, to be intimate with Kyle. 

And you are just too scared to declare your love to him, straight on. 

You have had a crush on Kyle since the day you met him. His family moved next door to yours when you were five. 

You hid behind your mum as his parents stood at your door, introducing themselves. You saw a boy, not much older than you, with short curly hair, standing between them. 

The two of you became fast friends. Getting up to all sorts of mischieves around the neighbourhood. He was the brain of the plot and you were the executor of the plan. 

You slowly fall for him as you get older. That little butterfly that starts flipping in your stomach every time you see him. His brilliant smile shows his pearly whites every time he sees your face. The way he greets you is always different from his friends, protecting you, entrusting you with his greatest secret. Make you laugh. Comfort you in sadness. How he always prefers to sit beside you at gatherings, and offers to take you home.

Both of your parents thought the two of you will end up together, since how well two of you get along with each other. So did you.

Your heart was totally crushed when he introduced you to his first date, excitedly.

“ I want you to be the first one to meet them. Since you are my best friend.” 

The amount of tears that you shredded that night. And the night after. But you put on a brave face, for yourself, for your family, for your friends. 

And for him. 

You don’t want him to be laden with your worries. You know him too well, even if he doesn’t love you the way you love him, he still cares about you. 

Protect you and ready to defend you when he senses a change of mood in you.

Your knight in shining armour. 

The brother you have from a different mother. But nothing more.

Reaching out and patting his hand, trying to reassure him and also calming down your own nerves, “I am fine. Well, sort of. But.. I've been thinking lately. I just.. “Shaking your head, “ I just want to experience what it is like, “ To be with you.  “There is no one else I trust more than you, to take care of me.” 

He frowned as he gripped your hands tight. “I am not going to do it if there’s no love involved.”  he insisted. Pressing his lip together, contemplating something before he open his mouth again. “Let's forget about this. You are drunk, sunflower, come on. Let’s get you home.” 

You feel like your heart has been shattered again for the second time. By him. That pet name just added to the pain. 

“Sunflower?”

“You are like a sunflower!” Kyle smiled. The families were on a camping trip once, and two of you were lying on the field of grass after running around and chasing each other.  He sat up, looked down at you with his signature smile, “You brighten up my day, and I am always in a happier mood after I see you!” 

Grabbing your bag, you stood up immediately, ready to dash out the pub door, embarrassed. You shouldn’t have asked. Well done, You think to yourself. Now you have totally ruined the friendship. How stupid can you be? There was that little sliver of hope when your mutual friends gave you the nudge and shove;

“You still haven’t told him your feelings?” “Shhhhh shut the hell up!!” you hissed. Clamping their mouth with your hands. “Can you be any louder???” 

“You…” your friend swatted your hand away, looking at you as if you had grown a horn on your head, “are you kidding me.. “ they mumbled. “ Look, you know what, just talk to him. You might be surprised.” 

You ignore his calls and the way your friends look at you, holding tight onto your jacket and bag as you hold back the tears that threaten to burst the dam. Before you could raise your hand and call for a cab, you felt a hand around your waist, pulling you in. 

That familiar warmth. Your once safety net. But now it hurts too much to be so close to him, to feel him.

Because he doesn’t belong to you. 

“Kyle.. Let go of me.” whispering, trying to hold yourself together, but you can feel your voice cracking. 

“No.”  pulling you into his chest, he buried his face into the crook of your neck. “I am sorry.”

“For what?” 

“For hurting you.” 

Wriggling around to face him, putting your hand on his chest to create a bit of gap between you and him, but keeping your head down, “I should be the one apologising, I shouldn’t have asked you such stupid thing.” your voice barely above a whisper as you try to push yourself out from his embrace. “Let’s just.. I am going home.”

“And not going to hear my answer to your request?”

You froze. 

I don't know what this is. but def smut coming next chap. of sort. * blame the three glasses of reds I had * I keep changing my mind what I want to write, from crack to fluff to one shot, and now it's turning into two-part series.

Tag list:

@deadbranch

@kaplerrr

@homicidal-slvt

@voxyin

@lia0-0

@floral-force

@saltofmercury

@siilvan

@rileyslibrarian

@mistydeyes

@okayyadriana

@a-small-writer-in-a-big-world

@jynxmirage

@nrdmssgs @schr-torta @glitterypirateduck @devcica @cumikering @roosterr

@groguspicklejar

@obsolescent @whydoilikewhump

[soapybutt17]

You Are My Sunshine

Summary: In which a year into your relationship, you began wandering if it's time to tell your father about your secret relationship. Characters: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Price!Female Reader. John Price. Simon Riley. Soap MacTavish. Word Count: 2,441 Chapter Warnings: None A/N: Got Carried Away and just turned it into a whole ass one shot series.

for @glitterypirateduck's GazFest 2023 Category: One-Shot Prompt: "I always knew this day would come"

Masterlist | Series Masterlist || Request are Open

“Really sure I can’t drive you up to your boyfriend’s house?”

Trust your father to make things more complicated than it needs to be. You know what his true intentions were and you weren’t about to bite—yet. You shared a knowing look with the man that was not just your father (step-father, but it was beside the point anymore) but was also your Captain. So much was riding out on his offer and you weren’t about to deal with the mess that would come after.

“I’ll be fine, Dad.” You reassured hugging him hoping it was enough to distract him. “I’ll call you when I get there, I promise.”

With a sigh, his arms wrapped around you in his resignation for the topic. You truly didn’t know until when you could keep this charade up with him. Especially with the man he was hunting down so close to the both of you. Maybe it was time to finally come clean and maybe it wouldn’t be as hard as you think it would be,

“Maybe bring him in for the New Year? I’m sure your Mum would love to have him over.”

You rolled your eyes realizing your father wasn’t relenting on this topic just yet.

“When I’m sure you’re not gonna threaten him—or kill him, I’ll think about bringing him to meet you and Mum.” You gave him the option instead.

“Fine.” He muttered finally pulling away from you. “Keep safe and if you change your mind, I’m one call away, I’m sure your Mum and brother and sister would love to have you for Christmas.”

You sighed.

“Maybe next year, Dad. Please bring the gifts I’ve sent to them with you, okay?”

You heard a knock at the door and the sight of one Kyle Garrick had interrupted the little moment you had with your father. You shared a knowing look with the man and knew his reason for coming to your father’s office. It’s time for the both of you to head out.

What you father didn’t know and hopefully the rest of the people in the base, was the small fact that the boyfriend your father and both Ghost and Soap were more than willing to hunt down was within arm’s reach. The cheeky bastard even played the part so well in having his own ideas of beating the living shit out of himself with the rest of the team. Oh if only they knew.

“Ready to go, Nyx?” Gaz inquired.

You noticed your father’s brow raising in question.

“Gaz lives nearby my boyfriend, Dad.” You explained so easily. “Thought I’d save gas and drive with him to my boyfriend’s place.”

“Alright.” He nodded before his attention slowly turned towards your secret boyfriend. “You know what to do for me, Sergeant?”

“Yes, Sir.” Gaz answered so easily.

“No, Gaz. You will do no such thing.” You snapped turning your attention to your father. “Don’t drag Gaz into this mess.” You muttered making your way towards Gaz.

“Send the coordinate to me when you can.” Your father continued but the smile on his face was enough of an indication that he wasn’t serious about it anymore than he really was.

“Dad!”

“Have safe drive you two. Call me when you get there, understood?”

“Yes, Dad.”

“Take care of my daughter, Gaz.”

“Yes Sir.”

Walking out of your Father’s office, silence had enveloped the two of you as you walked further away. When you were certain the distance was good enough, you finally held onto your boyfriend’s hand, how easy it was for him to hold onto your own in a firm grip.

“You think we should finally tell your father about us?” He inquired turning his gaze towards you for a moment before his eyes turn back in front of him as you two continued walking.

“I always knew this day would come.” You groaned rubbing your temples with your free hand. “Think you’ll be ready to deal with my Dad?” You inquired.

“More than I already do? I think I am.” He snorts. “If it means not having to lie to everyone’s face and we could be less—secretive and I think the reward would be better for everyone.”

He was right.

You know your father had this unprecedented rule in the base that so many other base have enforced with an iron grip. Relationships within the base were allowed to a degree, for as long as no one would let it hinder with their jobs or missions. It was a small little change that had so much impact for the entire team. Ghost and Soap were also few of the people that made the most out of it with their own significant others working in with the Medic Team.

But amongst the leniency that Captain John Price had decreed, there was an open secret that every single personnel was informed off, some even say that it was one of the first rules given to the new recruits when they arrive. No one is to date his daughter.

“After the Holiday?” You offered hoping it would be enough time to prepare for the inevitable chaos that would happen after the holidays.

“Enough time to enjoy the last days of my life, I think?” He teased.

“Kyle.” You warned, already worried for his safety now.

“Everything is going to be alright. We can ask Nikolai for help if we ever need it.” He continued earning a light nudge out of you.

One mission that had you, Gaz, and your father, it was somehow prophesied by one Nikolai that you and sweet Gaz would have cute babies together just to get a rise from your father. But that somehow, you end up getting together with the Sergeant just a few months after and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Eventually, with your bags gathered and the two of you now shoving everything you have onto the truck it was time for the couple of hour long drive to the Garrick Household for Christmas.

“You think they’d like me?” You inquired leaning against the door of his red Opel Corsa car he got with his first paycheck.

“They’ve been pleading to meet you for months now since they learned about you. I doubt anyone would hate you.” Gaz reassured cupping your checks.

You took a moment to check your surroundings for anyone that could possibly recognize you before you wrapped your arms around your boyfriend. His own arms pulled you right into his chest.

“Even if I’m a Military Brat?” You asked, knowing it was the preconceived notion everyone had on you when they found out about your association with the Captain. You wouldn’t be surprised if his family would also share the same view the moment they meet you.

“Far from it. Mum and Dad are already planning our wedding and how many kids we would have. So I doubt they think so lowly of you.”

You laughed at the statement. You did envision yourself with Gaz and the little family you could have in the future. But it was all too soon to think of in the present. But it was a certainty that you hope would happen in the future you have together.

“Can I named the babies or do they already have name planned as well?” You asked nuzzling your cheeks against his chest.

“A few name suggestions were thrown, but we can veto some as far as I’m made aware.”

“Kyle Junior would also be a good name for a baby boy?” You continued hands rubbing his back knowingly. “You’d like that don’t you?”

“We’re not playing this game in the middle of the parking lot, Love.” He groaned.

“Inside your car would seem a better setting then?” You egged him on.

“Nyx.” He warned, hands falling to the curves of your ass.

“I’m joking.” You giggled pulling him in for a quick kiss before finally letting go.

You tensed as you looked out into the base, the sight of Ghost and Soap gaping at the sight of the two of you.

“Let’s go.” You muttered opening the door immediately giving Gaz a whiplash for the sudden shift in your attitude from a few seconds ago.

“What?” He turned and from the window of the passenger seat of the car, you could see the shock also written on his face as he made beeline to the driver side of the car.

Without another word, Gaz had started the car without turning back or even acknowledging the fact that your secret was now exposed to two of the last people you would have allowed to know about your relationship now.

“We’re fucked.” You muttered under your breath as soon as you heard the familiar ring tone of your phone and the all too family name of your father that was now made aware of the little interaction you had with one Kyle Garrick.

~

“Now I understand why you love her so much.” His mother was quiet for the most part, allowing him and the rest of the members of the Garrick Family and extended family to bring life to the childhood home he had grew up in.

Kyle could only nod, watching you as you continued on with your conversation with his sister and brother-in-law about some TV series that you’re excited to begin watching again while off-duty. It brings so much warmth inside of him to see you like this, so comfortable and in peace in a place that was his own.

All the worries of his family not liking you or the chaos that came with Soap and Ghost finding out about your secret relationship was put in the backburner for the time being. All that was important was the moment where you two were.

A time where he wasn’t out in some isolated country or in knee deep shit looking for enemies alongside you. You both were in a normalcy that doesn’t come often with either of you anymore because of your chosen profession.

“Hey Mum,” Kyle finds himself turning his attention back to his mother. The smile on her face as she caught him looking at you was all the sign he needed to push forward with what he was about to ask. “Think I can cash in on your offer about your wedding ring in the near future?”

Christmas in the Garrick Household was a success and true to Kyle’s words, everyone loved you. It was just like you to be loved by anyone and everyone you would meet. Contrary to your call sign of Nyx, you were a ball of sunshine that constantly lights up the room, only dimming at the most frail state of mind or during missions. You gave him the sunshine he had thought was lost in him throughout the time of blood and gore he had experience in his career.

Who would have ever thought the incident in Piccadilly would not only shape his career, but the future he never thought he was still allowed to have in his life when all was said and done.

“No funny business.” You had teased him the moment you both settled into his childhood bedroom for the night.

“Never said there was.” He teased you right back, pulling you into his bare chest.

The single bed wasn’t really good for either of you to stay in, but it was better than having to sleep in separate rooms for the night. He maneuvered the two of you until you were now resting completely under him. A smile was on your face, eyes a little glazed over from the few drinks you’ve shared with the rest of his family and your skin tinted a few shades of red because of it. But you were still the most beautiful woman he has ever laid eyes on.

“I’m happy.” You spoke plopping your face onto the crook of his neck. Arms wrapped around his chest.

“Meet too.” He admit. He was happy with you in his life, happy that there would come a time in his life that he would want to hang his boots and throw his uniform down the deepest depths of his closet but he would still have you in his life. It was worth being happy about for him.

“I never thought they’d actually like me.” You continued.

“Didn’t I say that a few good too many times throughout the car ride?”

“You did. But still. Actually seeing that they would like me was something I never thought would happen.”

“I can’t see a reason why they won’t like you if I’m being honest.”

“You’re just saying that because you love me.”

“Touché.”

“Now I’m actually excited for you to meet my Mum too.” You pointed out, heading lifting up to meet his own. “My Mum would love you. She already has an idea of you from Dad but genuinely meeting her in person, I know for a fact that she would love you just as much as I do.” You beamed.

“Will she now?” He smiled, surprised by the sudden shift. “And your Dad?”

“It might take a while for him, but I know he’ll come around. He’s just always been like that growing up.” You shrugged.

“How about we head to your place for the New Years?” He inquired.

With his phone shut off and your own turned off after sending both of your parents a quick text of arriving in your boyfriend’s home safely, he thought it would be a better time as any to finally have clean slate and throw the cat out of the bag.

“Really?”

“Better to rip the bandage off now than when we’re back in the base.” He shrugged, he could only imagine the drills he will be thrown in because of this.

“If you’re not up to it, we could wait a little longer.”

“We agreed that we’d do it after the holidays but since the jig is up because of the two bloke, I think it’s a good time as any. Good to also meet your Mum and siblings while we’re at it.”

The smile on your face grew bigger as you slumped right back to him and peppered his face with kisses as you continually thanked him for dealing with you and for anything that your mind could come up with.

But what you didn’t know was the small little box hidden deep inside his bag and the question that he was about to ask from your father when he meets him—after a good beating if he’s lucky enough to come out alive from.

Part Two: Light of My Life

[yooopii]

apologies, apologies MDNI

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Female!reader

wc: 3,640

co-written with @ems_tpwk!!

During a mission, you ignore your sergeant’s orders. Back at base, you provide him with an apology in return.

“Shit– They're gaining ground on us!”, your radio shrieked. You and Gaz were behind a collapsed wall, taking cover as bullets whipped right by their heads. Price was in another building with Ghost and Soap flanking him. To say the pain radiating off your entire body was bad would be an understatement. More like excruciating. You could feel bruises blooming on your thighs, arms, chest, and even on the side of your head. The mission wasn't going as planned, defending a military base and then getting out. It was supposed to be easy, especially with five heavily trained SAS soldiers, who passed top of their class. Even though, you called in backup as the five of you were losing the fight fast. Your brain was scrambling to find a solution to this, and it couldn't find a safe way out.

Gaz had a nagging gut feeling that you would use one of your stupid and dangerous ideas, and had already given you an order not to do any of them. He wasn't about to risk your life over a dumbass suggestion. He assumed you would ask for cover while focusing on one enemy, instead, you didn't give warning before you reloaded your gun and quickly retreated from your position into the clear to shoot at the hostiles, uncovered. As you filed multiple rounds into their vests, arms, and heads, you heard Gaz’s booming voice through the radio, yelling at you to stop and get back to position immediately. As your mind was preoccupied with something else, you didn't pay attention to his orders. When you did, you heard that he wanted you back where you were, in position, covered.

The hostiles fell like dominoes as you fired through them, bullets dropping on the floor with a sharp, high-toned noise. You stopped shooting as the last one fell, and lowered your gun slightly, which was smoking and almost orange-colored from the heat of the bullets. You breathed heavily, looking at your sergeant, who had a concerned and irritable expression on his face.

You quickly looked away and called for Price’s status on their building, feeling your face heat up with a blush as moments passed. The radio responded with a quick and stern “clear”. You nod to yourself as Gaz retreats from his position, and it's clear that he has something to say. He doesn't act on it and speaks into the radio. “Approaching extraction point now” Gaz speaks up as he starts walking at a quick pace toward and up the staircase, expecting you to follow suit behind him. You follow from a safe distance as you rendezvous at the heli point. As you both approach the roof, the rest of the team gives you looks. You stop right next to Gaz, the irritation on his face clear. They all turn to you for an answer, confused about why he seems so ticked off.

You shifted uncomfortably as you tried to voice what happened, Gaz glaring daggers at you to tell the entire story. As you did, Nikolai landed the heli and you all got on, as you continued your story nonstop. As you were finishing up your story with a quiet voice, you could hear Soap and Price mumbling to themselves about the same thing Gaz did- a stupid fucking idea. Ghost spoke up, his voice a little raw from all the commands yelled into the radio from earlier.

“We all know that wasn’t a smart idea, what you did back there, Y/N.” The way he was standing outside of the light filtering into the helicopter, only the whites of his eyes and his mask showing made him seem like a real ghost. “We all trust that you won’t do that again. No matter what orders you are given, or which you aren’t.” He glanced at Garrick at that last part, noting he ordered you multiple times to retreat back into position.

“Y/N, disobeying orders from and squad member is against protocol training.” Price added, stepping closer to the both of you who were sitting down. “You will be given disciplinary orders when we get back to base,” His gaze flicked to you, with a spiteful and annoyed glint in his eyes. “Which may include saying out of missions until monitored and approved to return.” You noticed Gaz shifted uncomfortably as Price spoke of the punishments, but you played it off by thinking he was just uncomfortable and wanted to take a shower or something.

Stepping out of your captain's office was relieving, and you let out a sigh that you didn't realize you were holding in. Holding the booklets of papers you needed to read through though? Not exactly. You pressed the back of your head on the door as you sighed, and you finally faced the hole in your chest for your sergeant. He saw you risk yourself, your life, for no reason. The bare minimum would be to apologize.

Standing up straight and stepping out of the hallway, you went straight for the barracks. You passed countless doors before staring at the gold sign, plastered with his name, “KYLE GARRICK”. Knocking on the door, keeping the booklet behind you hidden, you hold your breath. Was he even in there? Would he even hear you out? You don't know if you'd survive that much embarrassment.

Your heart was beating a mile a minute as you saw the door handle jiggle, then open. You glanced up at the man who opened the door, with a broad chest with arms crossed in front. He didn't seem happy at all to see you, and you held your tongue before anxiety got the best of you.

“I- uhm… Kyle, I need to apologize for what I did today. I should've obeyed your orders, and I should not have done that. I won't risk myself like that in the future, I swear on my life.” Stumbling over your words was a sure way to get him to accept your apology, great job. Your face felt hot and red, as you felt the booklet of papers get wet from your sweaty palms.

“Really now? Maybe it's too late for an apology.” His face was blank, and he seemed bored and out of it. He was very obviously annoyed by your presence, but you needed to salvage your friendship with him in one way or another. As you glanced up at his face, you noticed his face got softer. Considerable softer, for someone whos supposed to be very pissed off at you.

“I don't think I overreacted for what you did, Y/N… but I forgive you. Just don't try that shit again, alright? Come on in.” His voice carried around you like a warm hug, and you broke into a huge grin as you capture him into a tight hug. His chuckles reverberated through you, as he grabbed you by your inner thighs to pull you up. He held you with one arm, holding you like a sack of potatoes as he shut the door with you pressed up against it. You could hear the little “click” of the lock. His face was right up to yours, and you could feel his breath on your face, your noses almost touching.

“Would you mind showing me how sorry you are, my love?”

You could feel his hand snake up your thigh, teasing you through your pants. Looking at where his hand was placed, where it was pulling you closer, you nod. Gaz grins, his hand riding up your leg to under your shirt where they run over the fabric of your bra, which in turn rubs against the sensitive skin of your breast, and eventually to your nipple. 

You bite your lip to stop moans spilling out of your mouth as his fingers softly rub against your sensitive skin, his eyes trained on yours as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear that just keep getting you wetter and wetter and wetter. As he pressed his midriff to your waist, your legs wrapped around his waist tightly. You held his shoulders, loosing your grip as his hands managed to take off his shirt, and then yours. Your hands slid down the soft skin of his chest, which was littered with scars, little pepperings of curly chest hair, and cut with muscles galore.

It was obvious he was holding back with you, but you weren’t having any of it. Your hands slid up his chest, to his neck then to the sides of his head where your fingers were tangled in the short, black curls on his head. His brown eyes glinted with lust, as you stared deep into them.

“Kyle. Stop with that bullshit and fuck me.” You barely finished your sentence before he kissed you roughly, his tongue sliding against yours as you held his head. Your smile grew against his face as you felt the stubble of a mustache tickle into your top lip. The little scars on his lips, and the taste of the mint toothpaste he always used.

As you pulled apart, you realized he had moved you to his bed, where he had left you on the edge with your legs splayed open. He dropped to his knees and looked up at you with needy, lust-filled eyes. You broke into another goofy smile and nodded, and you could feel his hands already going to town on your belt and cargoes. He pulled them down, staring at your pink panties which already had an obvious wet spot on them.

You leaned onto your elbows to watch him, giving you a perfect view of him and how he was staring at you with hooded eyes, and how he bit his bottom lip with anticipation when he thought about your aching cunt. In a heartbeat, he had pulled down your panties and they were on the floor, fallen somewhere. 

You were too busy thinking about how handsome he looked in between your knees, to not realize his head was already in between your legs until you felt his hair tickling your belly button, his nose nudging your clit. You held in a moan, threading your fingers into his hair, to find any bit of purchase.

He licked a stripe up your cunt, slick collecting on the tip of his tongue as he licked right curled on your clit. He moaned at the taste of you; before taking the small bud in his mouth and sucking as he swallowed all the juices you had made. 

The way the stubble on his upper lip tickled you down there, it was breathtaking. His hands had curled around your legs, pulling you impossibly closer to his face as little whimpers left his mouth, sending vibrations right to your brain. The smell of arousal made the air in the room thick, and your moans got louder and louder as you chased your high.

The sly man in between your thighs removed one of his hands holding your thighs, to go under his chin to tease your tense hole. He let go of your clit, just to lick your cunt again. He spat on your hole, your knees fluttering from the sudden feeling. His fingers worked their way into your hole, your walls fluttering about his thick, calloused fingers. You clenched around them, softly moaning as they went deeper into you.

"Fuck darling, you’re so tight for me..”

As he flattened his tongue out, he pressed it on your clit as he just barely moved it from side to side. The coil inside of you just got tighter and tighter, abdomen flexing and pulling taut. Your legs shook, almost seeing new constellations. The pleasure was overwhelming, and your moans could’ve made you star in a porno with the way he was eating you out. His fingers curled into that gummy spot, making that coil snap in half, and making you come.

You practically screamed as he didn’t stop fucking you with his fingers as you came, your slick being pushed in and out from his relentless fingers. You were panting as he pulled back, watching as he licked his fingers with a pussydrunk smile on his face. He had seemed like he just ate the best meal money could buy, and he didn’t seem mad about it.

“Garrick.. god, fuck, my lord.” In the midst of having your soul sucked out of you, he had unzipped his cargoes, slipping them off as he grabbed his cock. He was staring at you with hooded eyelids over closet eyes, as he fisted his length as soft whimpers left his mouth. You both got up, and your eyes widened at the size of him that was right in front of you. He was long and big, with a dark pink tip, and chances were you wouldn’t be able to fit him all.

He smirked as you stared at the sheer size of him, watching as bubbles of precome slip out of his slit. You watched it bob and glanced up at Kyle before moving to your knees. You replaced his hand with yours, pumping his length a few times before leaning down and taking the tip in your mouth.

His pre-come tasted oddly salty, but you could care less. You sucked on it a bit, before taking him deeper, getting half his length down your throat. You were almost gagging, but you continued until you physically couldn’t take more. You held the rest with your free hand, the other finding purchase on his thigh. You bounced your mouth once, twice, and thrice up and down, tears pricking the back of your eyes. His hands tangled into your hair, his fingers softly massaging your scalp as your tongue rubbed under him.

You closed your eyes as you bottomed out, holding back your gagging as he hit the back of your throat. Your hands were holding onto his thighs as you sucked as best you could, staying there until tears fell and you needed more air. You pulled back, a hand going to replace your mouth as you regained yourself. You put him right back into your mouth, the free hand going down to the base to carefully massage his balls, making him curse, his abs tighten and his breath quicken. You quickly pulled back, opening your mouth with a pop as his tip rested on your tongue, coating your mouth with his come.

The corners of your mouth pulled up as he threw his head back, the view from where you were was majestical. You stare at him as you snake a hand down your body, slipping them into your newly slicked folds. You rub your clit as you watch him recover, staring right back at you.

You’re about to speak when he presses his lips to yours roughly, hands sliding to your hips as he pushes you, making you fall back on the bed. It wasn't gentle, but it wasn't rough either. Your hands wrap around the base of his neck as the kiss deepens, his hands beginning to wander up and down your chest, from your shoulder down to your lower abdomen. They start drifting to your back, going up slightly till you feel his hands undo the clasp on your bra. It undoes, and he quickly pulls it off to the side.

You reached down and pulled his cargoes most of the way off, your legs helping the rest of the way as they fall pretty much to his ankles. Your legs wrap around his waist as his tongue mingles with yours, the familiar taste of cigarettes creeping into your mouth. His hands drift to your breasts, going from palming them to squeezing as his thumb runs across your nipple every so often, making you shudder.

He breaks the kiss quickly to reach a hand over to his nightstand drawer, pulling out a foil-wrapped condom. Ripping it open with his teeth, you watch in pure lust and admiration as he effortlessly rolls it onto himself. You're surprised you aren't drooling at this point with the way you're looking at him. His cock rests in your inner thigh, dragging his dick up and down your slick folds.

You could tell that he was taking his sweet ass time enjoying this, and as much as you were too, you couldn't wait any longer. You break the kiss to speak, “ Kyle, I swear to god, if you don't fuck me right now this instant I’m gonn-” You're cut off by a sharp inhale and gasp as he pushed into you with no warning, one thrust was all it took to be fully inside of you, as he waited for your walls to adjust to his size before he started to slowly move.

You whined out as he was going detrimentally slow, your nails making red lines down his back as your hips bucked in need of more. He can sense you’re about to protest about his speed, a smirk falling on his face as he slams into you with so much force you get pushed further to the headboard, the bedframe creaking.

Involuntary moans and small whimpers are spilling out of your lips as his thrusts get faster and more harsh. Your nails sink into his broad shoulders, your arching back pushing your two stomachs together. “Oh my god.” 

“You feel so fucking good, Y/N..” he murmurs into the crook of your neck as he keeps his pace. His lips press against your collarbone, kissing up your neck until they meet yours and they crush together in a mind-numbing kiss. If his rough thrusts didn’t make you feel like jello, that kiss surely did. He removes the hand that was gently massaging your breasts and slowly trails it down between your mingled bodies, pressing a firm thumb against your swollen clit as he rubs it in small circles until your back arches as much as his chest will let you. You have no choice but to stop your end of the kiss as you can’t keep your jaw from opening slightly in pleasure. 

He hums against your parted lips. his lips drift down to the spot on your neck right under your ear as he whispers breathlessly, “You gonna come all over my cock, Y/N? Cmon, give it to me…” as those words leave his lips your entire body tightens and you let out soft curses and moans as you mumble his name almost incoherently as your orgasm hits you like a truck. 

His soft lips press a small kiss on your forehead before grabbing your hips and flipping you over to where you’re now laying on top of him, his cock still hard and desperate as he stays buried to the hilt inside of you. 

"That was...”, you pant. "You are...Did you finish?"

“Not yet my love. m’ wanna watch you ride me..” He pants slightly as he gives you the slightest cheeky smile. Your eyes glimmer and a light smirk crawls onto your lips at his words. 

You sit up from his chest so you‘re now straddling his waist as your hands brace on his abs. You then slowly pull up on his dick, then at the same pace you slide yourself down achingly slow on his dick, taking every inch as you let out the faintest moan as your head tosses back. You continue the process lifting yourself up and down at a steady pace, not to tire yourself out too quickly as you feel his muscles flex under the weight of your palms. 

He tries to keep control and let you keep your pace but he can’t hold it in anymore. His hips snap up to meet every single one of your downward thrusts. you fall forward onto his chest as you mutter breathlessly, “Oh god..fuck right there…” He bucks his hips up, going a bit faster than your original pace as your hips still match his every thrust. 

You spit out incoherent mumbles as your thighs begin to burn and shake. You go to warn him about your quickly approaching high, but you’re too late as your entire body convulses and you instinctively bury your face in his neck to conceal your moans and whines as you come. He lets out strings of groans and curses mingled with your name as he finishes alongside you, keeping your body tightly pressed to his chest. 

After a few seconds of heavy pants and sighs he carefully flips you over so he’s back on top of you and pulls out slowly not to hurt you or make you more sensitive. He reaches a hand down and discards the used condom, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on your forehead before moving off of you and the bed, walking to the bathroom to get a towel. 

He comes back to the bed and parts your legs slightly, wiping you down. Your knees involuntarily twitch inward in sensitivity. He smiles and gives a light chuckle as he continues wiping you down. After he’s finished he tosses the towel aside and looks for your scattered clothing. 

You maneuver yourself upward into a sitting position as he hands you your clothing. You smile up at him and start to get dressed not with everything you came in, but to where you aren’t fully naked. He does the same thing and then climbs into bed next to you, pulling you flush against his chest. you bury your head into his chest as you smile. 

“Was that a good enough apology?” You look up at him, your eyes slightly droopy from your previous experience, giving him a sleepy smile. He returns the expression, looking down at you with the same smile. “the best one you could’ve possibly given.” He presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

thank you all for reading!!

[celenawrites]

play pretend

pairing - Gaz x Reader

warning - Just some light angst. Nothing graphic, as far as I can remember.

word count - 1.1k

AO3 Version

note -

This is a product of a medicine reacting badly + with migraine + sleep deprivation. I am unhinged and I regret nothing, except for not proofreading this fic before posting. Bone apple tit, y'all!

You can tell that Kyle is falling out of love with you.

Distance seems to have that effect on people it seems - it has the strange ability to turn companions who have promised each other affection for an eternity and more into mere strangers in the blink of an eye. 

You had sworn to yourself that you won’t let this happen to you. 

And you’re failing miserably. 

His deployments now last for months (going as far as stretching up to six or more months), and sometimes you forget what he looks like - his face turning into a blank haze of nothing as you desperately look at photographs you have of him and you try to remember the love of your life between hysterical sobs. He’s eager to please his squad and make his leader proud (you had met Price only once and he had seemed a kind enough man, and he cared deeply about Gaz) and despite your objections, you swallow your words and see him off with a watery smile and a light kiss against his cheek.

You rarely call, and his muffled voice from the mobile speaker sounds foreign to you as he promises to return home to you safe and sound. You hum at him, not entirely trusting his light promises and the background noise of your television sounds more convincing anyway. Otherwise, the pre-recorded sound of his voicemail message greets your ears whenever you muster up the courage to give him a ring, and when the beep follows soon after, you find yourself staring dejectedly at the phone in your hand before you press the red button to end the call.  

It’s easier to text him, easier to pretend over carefully typed out letters and words over the small screen device than to admit to yourself that the grasp you had over this frail relationship is slackening. The man of your life turns into someone different, someone unfamiliar day by day and you’re not sure you can fight fate for the demise it has in store for your relationship. 

He comes back after eight months of distance and unbearable silence.

You’re a light sleeper, so you feel his warm arms wrap around your waist tightly and you breathe lightly and pretend that he has not just dragged you close so that his bare chest touches your back as he falls asleep in a proper bed for the first time in almost a year. 

You act as if you didn’t notice how his arms hold you more out of force of habit than out of love. How he didn’t gently wake you up with a soft kiss against your skin, reverent as he turns you over to face him and let him memorize each square inch of your very being, memorize the love his heart holds solely for you. 

In the morning, it is strange to see him occupy the empty spaces that rightfully belong to him - the chair beside yours at the dinner table, the extra pile of war books he has recently borrowed from the local library, and his aftershave and toiletries all stocked up in the vanity cabinet of the bathroom.  You’re not used to it. 

The atmosphere at your home is stifling - you can tell he’s trying to make up for lost time; he invites you to the sofa to watch a romance movie, like you used to. He offers to order takeout for dinner, and even tries to fix up your car engine that keeps on whirring weirdly. You politely refuse his kind offers to assist you throughout the day with a myriad of excuses - legitimate and forged  (the idea of spending time with Kyle making your heart ache). 

All this progress for naught, you think. 

Things will go back to the way they used to be when his burner phone rings with a familiar number and his captain summons him back for another long mission. You pity him, really. 

A high-stake job where he could lose his life, and a girlfriend he could not fully commit himself to; a shitty girlfriend who’d always want more out of him like a bottomless pit of despair and want - more love, more attention, more time. 

More More More More-

No wonder he doesn’t love you anymore. 

When you come back home from work, you find Kyle plating up takeout from your favorite Vietnamese place - pho, bánh xèo, and cao lau noodles. He invites you to eat first before you dress down into PJs and go to bed. The food is steaming hot, and he laughs as you burn your tongue on the steaming broth. It reminds you of when you first fell in love with him. 

He tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, and you cannot help but blush at the gesture as he asks you to pick out a movie for both of you to watch while he cleans up the plates and the takeout bags set on the dining table. He settles down beside you as you press play and watch ‘How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days’ before you settle in for the night. 

What an apt choice, you think in dry amusement as you curl up on the sofa and cover yourself up with the throw blanket kept nearby. 

The warmth of another body sitting beside you is welcoming yet unfamiliar. Kyle focuses his sharp eyes on the screen and his arm slowly stretches behind you until he finally gets the claw clip out of your hair and his deft fingers curl up into your scalp, gently massaging your stress away. You almost melt at the gesture, your spine tingling with comfort and pleasant shivers as your boyfriend plays with your hair at intervals for the duration of the movie. 

There’s an air of finality in the room that you can feel as you lean onto your boyfriend’s firm shoulder, your head resting on him as your heavy eyes focus on the stream of color and blur of characters the big television screen reflects back to you and illuminate the otherwise dark room with. 

You know what will follow next after the night is over. You’ve worried and cried and mourned over the untimely death of your relationship for weeks now. Your tears have dried up, and despite the sweet gestures Kyle bestows you with, you know that this will just make it harder for you to deal with the final blow. His sweetness just makes it harder for you to deal with all of it. You’d rather deal with him being mad, or being an insufferable asshole - anything that will make it easier for you to accept the end of your wonderful relationship, instead of him being his amazing self after so long and giving you a glimpse of the past you so cherish and miss dearly. 

But for tonight, for your sake and his, you play pretend that everything is alright. This is just another night of the many nights you have spent with Kyle. Everything is alright, and Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick is still madly in love with you, as you are with him. 

Everything is the way it should be. 

[mlmxreader]

I'm Still Here | Kyle Gaz Garrick x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Can I request the prompt “I love you. I'll wait for you. Come back. Come back to me.” with Gaz please?

Thanks ❞

: ̗̀➛ Gaz isn't going anywhere, he's never leaving... he just wishes that you could see him.

: ̗̀➛ major character death, swearing, injury detail

↳ DNI if you interact with rape porn, proship, profic, DDNE/dead dove, etc. stay the fuck away from me <3

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

Gaz sat on the kitchen counter, watching you carefully as he idly kicked his legs, the backs of his heavy combat boots hitting the wooden cupboards but without a single sound. His hands planted firmly on the marble counter top as he dared to smile.

He loved to watch you so much; to see you go about your day and to get better and better every day.

The last few months had been so tough on you, Gaz felt so awful; seeing you stay up late every night, crying and sobbing and wailing until you passed out. You would sleep until the afternoon, wake up, and then spend all night either in bed or sitting on the sofa crying and snivelling.

If he had been able to, Gaz would have cried himself; he promised that he would never hurt you, that he would always protect you. But he had failed you; he couldn't protect you any more, he couldn't keep you safe at all.

It was all his fault.

But seeing you now... vibrant, full of life, singing along to old Sodom songs. It did bring a smile to Gaz's face as he leaned back a little, folding his arms across his chest. He listened keenly to the sound of your voice, and watched you like he always used to.

His dark brown eyes completely and utterly focused on you, and only you; as if you were the only thing that mattered in the world.

He reached a hand down to his stomach, feeling the cold gush of nothing as a soft draft seeped through the open and gaping hole; the jagged edges and bits of organ that hung and clung onto the bottom. The burn marks around the inner rim.

He frowned. He thought he was going to get used to it after a while, but not anymore.

He wished you would look at him, that you would meet his sunken and empty eyes; he wished you would put your hand next to him, and feel the cold spot that had formed there.

They seemed to be all around him these days, cold spots and flickering lights.

But you hardly seemed to notice. He would scream at the top of his lungs, call your name as he stood in front of you, and you didn't even hear him; you didn't even see him standing there with his voice breaking and hoarse.

He slid himself off of the counter, his heavy duty boots making no sound as he paced around you, nudging your cup slightly so that it wouldn't fall. Flicking the spider away from the tap so that you didn't accidentally touch it; he knew how much you would have hated to startle the poor thing.

But then the phone rang, and Gaz frowned as he looked at the caller ID; Price. You picked it up, sniffling.

"Hey, John."

"Hey," Price sighed. "How you holding up?"

You shrugged, swiping a hand down your face. Gaz knew you were about to lie, you always did that when you were lying. "I'm okay... I'm okay..."

"The funeral's next week," Price told you. "You think you can make it?"

"I have to," you scoffed. "He was... Gaz is everything to me. I have to be there."

Gaz cleared his throat, watching as he tried to put his hand on your shoulder, only for it to sink right through. "Don't lie to him, darling. Please. He can help you."

But you didn't hear a single thing. "Look, John, I appreciate the whole caring, considerate bullshit you have going on, but I don't need it right now."

Gaz frowned, shaking his head as he begged for you to open up and to talk about it; you didn't have to suffer silently, and nor did you have to suffer alone but... but then he looked at the picture on the wall, and he sighed heavily, knowing why you were being that way.

You had always been one another's confidants and most trusted friends; there were things that you would only talk to Gaz about, just as there were things that he would only talk to you about. Forever joined at the hip. The picture on the wall, taken just after you had gotten together, only reminded him of that.

You looked so happy. So comfortable.

He paced around a little more, only to pause when you called his name.

"Kyle, I dunno if you can hear me," you murmured. "But if you can - I love you, I'm never gonna forget you. You know that, right? I dunno... I dunno if you're here, or if you've fucked off somewhere, but... I don't wanna bury you. I really don't, I mean how... how do you bury your best friend, your husband, and act like you're alright?"

Gaz swallowed hard, shaking his head as he wiped his aching eyes and moved back to you; he put his hands on the side of your head, despite his fingers sinking into you like he was made of nothing, and pressed his lips to your temple. You didn't feel anything, didn't even flinch or wonder why it had gotten so cold suddenly.

He sighed as he pulled away, moving to stand in front of you even though you couldn't see him. "I'm never leaving you. I'm not. I love you. I'll wait for you."

"I love you," you whispered, closing your eyes and sobbing quietly. "I love you. I'll wait for you. Come back. Come back to me. Please... please... Gaz, pull a pet sematary for all I care, just... come back."

"But I'm right here," he told you. "I'm already here. I'm not leaving you, I'm not going anywhere. I just... I wish you could see me. I wish you could hear me."

You moved away, shaking your head and making your way to the sofa, leaving your phone on the counter; Gaz followed, not wanting to leave you alone for even a second.

He loved you.

He wasn't going anywhere.

[homicidal-slvt]

"It's Okay To Love Him"

-

MDNI

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Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x GN!Reader

Civilian|Y/N

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A part of Gazfest 2023

Category: 1

Prompt: 8

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Warnings: Angst, Death, Trauma, Hurt + Comfort

-

Sometimes things don't go according to plan- Gaz prided himself on his planning abilities. He knew of course plans could fall through- but this one... This one felt fool proof.

He was so sure about everything when it came to you, the way your eyes lit up everytime you saw him. Steady heartbeats and touches that lingered for a bit too long to be platonic.

"No."

An empty silence fell as he took a second to process what you just said, bouquet of sunflowers clasped tightly in his hand.

"Oh... I see."

"I'm sorry Kyle... I just..."

"No no- it's okay. You have nothing to apologize for."

He reassured you so quickly that it made your heart ache even more, a part of you wanted to say yes but you were scared.... Scared of losing him.

His line of work terrified you.

It's stupid to think that hiding your feelings and being friends will somehow protect you- but you can't help it.

You know what it's like to lose someone you love dearly- you saw your mother's grief. That attachment is terrifying.

It destroyed her.

-

"Momma...?"

The wailing was something you swore could shatter glass, watching as the woman you knew to be so strong sink to her knees in the kitchen. Flag clutched in her hands and soothing words coming from a man you didn't recognize.

It wasn't until later she explained your father wasn't coming home. Ever.

She tried to pick up the pieces but no part of her was ever the same, the house felt so cold and lonely. Like both parents had truly died and you only lived with ghosts.

Family photos only served as a reminder of something you would never have again.

-

"Dandelion?"

Your eyes dart up from your lap to meet a pair of dark brown ones, seated out on your porch having a nice glass of tea. Lemon wedge carefully placed on the side of the cup.

"Kyle..."

Things had been slightly awkward since he asked you out but not too much had changed. He recognized that distance in your eyes- he's never pressed. Never asked why you seem to hate your family photos. Never poked and prodded at you like most did.

He wanted to ask- he gave you the option to tell him. Stayed near if you needed it.

"Kyle... Don't die."

There was a prolonged awkward pause as those words left your lips, he didn't exactly expect you to say that.

"What?"

"I'm scared I'll lose you too... I'm scared if I do I'll lose myself... I just... I'm so afraid I'm so-"

"Hey, hey..."

You were quickly shushed as he moved over to you, taking the glass from your hand and setting it safely on your little porch table. Arms slipping around you in a warm embrace.

"Just breathe... I'm not goin' anywhere. It's alright."

"Is that a promise?"

"Damn right it is."

One thing you knew about Kyle.... Come hell or high water he kept his promises. He's not going anywhere- not anytime soon.

It's okay to love him.

-

{This was originally gonna have a sad ending but it hurt too much so scrapped it LOL}

-

{@glitterypirateduck @sofasoap @gothgirl6-6-6 @soupbinsoup @sarraa-26 }

-

{More Content}

[blckbrrybasket]

Unraveling the heart

Drabble (implied one-sided gaz x gn!reader)

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: angst

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 433

ɴᴏᴛᴇ: this is a crossover from my ao3!

Life in the military was lonely. Life when you’re in a task force that moves around constantly is even more lonely. It doesn’t support the idea of best friends in general, much less civilian best friends. This doesn’t stop others from forming bonds though.

Such is the case with you and Gaz.

From the time you’d met Gaz to now you had always been close. It made sense with the structure of the team, but that never seemed to play a factor in it. You were kismet. That’s what Gaz thought at least.

Gaz always claimed you were his best friend and by all accords you did the same. That’s why it was such a surprise when he heard someone call you their best friend. Technically he wasn’t supposed to hear. The task force needed to come off leave early which wound up with the four men of 141 coming to your apartment…or approaching it that is.

Their first priority is to make sure it’s safe and clear of other civilians. They don’t know what you’ve told others about your job with the limited information you can give away and they try to avoid cases of accidentally messing up any white lies or exposing classified knowledge. They had cased your place quickly and moved in when they figured it safe. Though, the plan was quickly hindered with the random arrival of two individuals.

The group of men quickly turned and glanced down the hall of the apartment building, pretending they belonged there (and definitely were not there for you.) They tried to give you some privacy, but with a girls slightly louder voice it was hard to. “There’s my bestie!” Bestie? No, bestie was just an endearing term, plus you weren’t even the one to say it. Even with that knowledge something chipped at Gaz’s heart and he ‘unintentionally’ glanced back at your open door.

That’s not what stung most. What stung the most was the man who walked through the door. The one who you so graciously welcomed, throwing your arms around his neck and proclaiming his name loudly. The mans lips pressed to the junction between your cheek and ear, his arms sliding around your waist. Suddenly it felt too intimate to be there.

Gaz’s cheeks burned with embarrassment as he looked on. Embarrassed that he liked you, embarrassed that he thought you’d like him back, and embarrassed that the whole team’s gaze fell on him because his crush was painfully obvious to everyone but you.

Soap winced at the sight, “I’m sorry mate.” “Don’t,” Gaz whispered back.

That was that.

[criminalamnesia]

Simon x Reader whose already work with TF 141 for a pretty long time. And one day, there's a traitor around the base, leaking their information. All of the proof are leading to reader but reader always deny it! And they interrogated reader, and reader always deny it! And he's (with other 141 members, of course, but it mostly him) do their torture methods to get information out of reader. They keep doing it until someday, the real traitor finally captured!

And make the reader traumatized, pls. Like, she would have trust issues, trauma, and others. She wouldn't forgive them, tho.

ooooo the angst. had to sit on this one for a few days before I wrote something, but here goes nothing.

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

when you blink open your eyes, the room is dimly lit. it’s silent save for the sounds of your labored breathing.

you must’ve passed out. one second johnny— a man you’d known for years—was slicing into your skin with a knife. the next, you’re staring into an empty room.

your hands jerk up involuntarily. still bound. the rope holding them to the arms of the chair have rubbed them raw. the skin is bright red and bloody. it makes you grit your teeth.

you look down at your lap, taking inventory of the parts of your body you can see. large gashes break up the fabric of your tac pants. the blood surrounding the deep wounds is dry and crusty.

one of the cuts looks like it’s getting infected. you swear you can see bone.

you’d taken this kind of suffering before. been capture by enemies, held and tortured and pushed to the brink of death. this was different. this was being done by your team. men you’d bled with. cried with. laughed with.

one you’d even slept with. the same one you loved. the one you called yours.

the door to the room swung open, hitting the wall with a metal thud. your head slowly lifts, eyes squinting to see him. by his stature, you know it’s simon.

he doesn’t bother shutting the door behind him. instead, he walks towards you slowly. as he comes closer, can make out his eyes in the sea of dark paint he smears around them. the same paint you’d helped him apply a time or two.

“back for more?” you say, and it’s meant to sound sarcastic, but all it sounds like is pitiful. your voice cracks, and pain seeps into your tone.

the first rule they’d taught you about scenarios like this was to never let the enemy know it’s working. never let them know that they’re hurting you— that they’re slowly wearing down your defenses.

well, you’d just broken that rule, and you hadn’t even meant to.

you didn’t know how long you’d been tied up, subjected to torture by men you had once called your family. all because a fucking liar whispered your name into their ears. all because they fucking believed it.

apparently the years meant nothing to them. to him, least of all, considering he’d done more damage to you than the rest of them.

simon comes to a stop in front of you. his hands are empty by his sides, but that’s not reassuring. there’s a table full of weapons off to the side. he would have his pick of the litter.

“ready to talk yet?” he says, and his voice is gruff. his tone is hollow. he’s speaking to you the same way he’d spoken to countless enemies. it makes you sick.

“fuck you, simon,” you spit out.

the betrayal of john, gaz, and johnny had hurt. but simon’s betrayal? that was enough to almost put you in the ground.

you’d stopped pleading with them the second they tied you to the chair. now, you were angry. furious. rage filled your veins, and if you weren’t beaten to all hell, you’d find a way out of these fucking restraints and strangle the man in front of you to death.

the man you loved. you’d thought you meant something to him, but apparently not— because who tortures someone they love?

“if you talk,” he ignores your outburst. “it’ll be easier. quick.”

“fuck. you.” you enunciate the words, your jaw impossibly tight as you grit your teeth. “im not the fucking rat.”

“all the evidence,” he starts as he disappears from your vision. you know he’s going to pick his weapon of the hour. you force yourself not to shudder.

“points to you.”

“take that bullshit evidence and shove it up your ass, riley,” you seethe, ropes pulling taut as you lean forward in the chair.

he’s back in your line of sight now, brandishing a large knife.

“you’re only making it harder on yourself, love,” he tuts, and then he’s swinging the knife down, right onto one of your fingers.

you scream as the blade cuts right through skin and bone. your teeth dig into your lip, drawing blood as you refuse to give him more of a reaction. it fucking hurts, but you’ll be damned if you let yourself cry.

“feel like talking now?” he asks, watching as half of your left pinky finger falls to the floor.

“or should we take off another?”

you look up at him, hoping he can see the hatred in your eyes as you speak your next words. “you could take the fucking hand off and I’d still have nothing to tell you.”

“let’s see how true that is then, eh?” he replies, and raises the knife again. he’s about to swing, when someone comes running into the room.

“ghost!”

it’s johnny. he’s obviously winded as he stops beside simon, dropping his hands to his knees as he struggles for breath.

“what, mactavish? im busy.”

“they’re—” he gasps. “they’re not— the— rat.” he says between breaths.

the room goes impossibly still. so quiet you swear you could hear the men’s heartbeats (or maybe that pounding in your ears was your own).

“you sure?” simon’s voice is softer as he lowers the knife and turns to johnny. the younger man nods, his eyes trained on you. you can see the regret in them, the sorrow.

“it’s fucking shepard.”

it’s not funny, but at the news, you burst into laughter. the men stare at you in confusion, but you can’t stop.

you’re laughing so hard you’re crying, and they’re just standing there.

“are you alrigh’?” johnny’s asking as he moves towards you. he’s fully recovered his breath now, and he drops to a crouch to be eye level with you.

you don’t answer— you can’t. you keep laughing. distantly, you hear the knife simon was holding clatter to the ground. can just make out the sound of more footsteps out in the hallway, coming towards the room.

you pass out.

when you wake up again, you’re in the infirmary. your eyes open slowly, adjusting to the bright fluorescent lights.

“easy, love,” a voice to your right drawls.

your eyes are fully open now. you look down at yourself, noticing the lack of bindings. noticing the iv taped to your arm, the stitched cuts, the black and blue bruises, the missing fingernails and missing finger.

the person sitting next to you clears his throat. that’s when you look up and meet the eyes of your captain.

your captain. the man who was supposed to lead you, to keep you safe. what a fucking joke. he’d started the damn witch hunt.

“how d’you feel?” he asks, his words soft, like he’s trying not to scare off a timid animal.

you stare at him for a beat. then two. then you’re moving, pulling the iv from your arm and shakily pushing yourself up in the bed. price is telling you to stop, reaching out to push you back down, but you slap at his hands.

“get the fuck off me!” you shout, and that takes him aback. he stops, frozen, as he watches you shift in the bed. you throw your legs over the side of it and prepare yourself to stand.

“you really shouldn’t—” he begins after he’s regained his senses, but you pay him no mind. you place your feet on the ground and start to stand. your legs wobble, almost give out, but you’re able to stand. barely.

“shut up,” you growl, stumbling forward and towards the exit. he’s moving to cut you off, and you slide him a gaze that’s sharper than a knife. “and leave me the fuck alone.”

he halts again. he seems almost scared of you— but that can’t be right. even on your best days, he would still beat you in hand-to-hand combat.

he’s not scared of your threats or your frail body. he’s scared of what he’s done to you.

just then, johnny and gaz come through the infirmary doors.

“cap, y’alright? we heard yellin’—” johnny begins, but his mouth snaps shut at the sight of you out of bed.

you’re heaving from your spot next to the bed. your legs are shaking violently, threatening to give out any second. you feel nauseous and numb.

“let’s get you back into bed,” gaz says, and he starts towards you, but you stop him as your gaze snaps to his.

“don’t come any fucking closer. any of you.”

“bonnie,” johnny murmurs. he sounds miserable, but you don’t care. don’t give a fuck about how any of them feel.

“don’t. im leaving,” you grunt out, moving a foot forward slowly. you’d be damned if you fell in front of them.

“you can’t, love. you’re in no shape to be walking.” john says, and you snarl.

“and whose fault is that?”

the men stay silent as they watch you slowly shuffle towards the foot of the bed. you’re bracing yourself to walk on your own when simon walks in.

“get back in bed,” his tone is blunt. you ignore him.

you remove your hand from the bed, move to take a step forward without support, and you begin to crumple to the floor.

simon moves forward, quick as a cat, and catches you. he lifts you into his arms bridal style, and you’re screaming hysterically. your limbs are flailing the best they can in such a battered state. you’re in fight-or-flight mode, your body betraying your desire to put up a steely front.

your palms slap against simon’s upper body and his masked face. he gives no reaction. he doesn’t say anything. the others are watching the exchange silently. the room is buzzing with tension.

“get off me!” you screech, landing a slap to simon’s cheek. “let me— let me go! let me go!” you’re gasping for breath, tears streaming down your cheeks. you’re panicking. your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest.

“put me down! get— get— off me! stop—” you sob.

the doctor rushes into the room then, yelling at the men for allowing you out of bed. you can’t make out what she’s saying over the rush of blood in your ears. you feel light-headed. you can’t breathe.

“put them down, now!” the doctor yells at simon. “they’re having a panic attack— I thought I told you four to stay away from them? they’re too vulnerable right now—” the doctor is chastising them as simon places you back in the bed.

spots are dancing in your vision. you don’t even feel it when the doctor sticks another needle into your arm. the words being exchanged above your head are muffled. it’s like you’re underwater.

john’s face comes into view, then johnny’s, then gaz’s. as your eyes start to close, you notice the only face you don’t see again is simon’s.

when you wake up again, it’s been two weeks.

the doctor had put you into a medically induced coma to allow your more serious wounds time to heal, without risking another episode. unbeknownst to you, the members of your team had stayed by your bedside almost the entire time— minus simon. he hadn’t come within ten feet of the infirmary since the day of your panic attack.

there’s fresh flowers on the bedside table. a steady beeping of the heart monitor. a fuzzy feeling in your head.

it feels like a dream, all of it does. none of it feels real as you settle into your body again. but then the hurt starts, and you remember the truth.

your family betrayed you. your lover betrayed you. they locked you up and tortured you. they didn’t believe you.

when the doctor came to your side to check your iv, she smiled.

“how’re you feeling?”

you look up at her, and it takes a moment for you to speak.

“don’t,” you begin. your mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. “don’t let them…in here. don’t…wanna see them.”

the doctor nods in understanding, and she doesn’t say anything else to you. she turns and walks out of the room.

the door clicks shut behind her. she lets out a sigh before turning around to face the three men.

“they don’t want to see you.” she tells them, and their expressions drop. they don’t protest, and like wounded puppies, they walk off.

no one else comes to check on you for a few hours.

you’re in and out of consciousness— can’t tell what’s real and what’s a dream. flashes of your torture come back to you. flashes of a smile. of a scarred face. of hands on your hips and—

you crack your eyes open, and the room is dark. the only light is the blinking of some of the machines. it illuminates the room enough to allow you to see a large, dark figure slip from the room. the door clicks shut so quietly it’s almost imperceptible.

that’s when you notice fresh flowers on the bedside table.

your eyes start to droop once more, and you chalk up whatever you just saw to a dream, while simon exhales heavily on the other side of the infirmary door.

————————————————

authors note:

I hope this alright! it’s one in the morning (and I’m half asleep writing this) so I apologize for the errors that are most likely present, and the sense this most likely lacks. I feel like I could write a whole book about this idea, but im cutting myself off to sleep lol.

thank you for the ask, I hope I did your idea justice. 🫶

[stinglesswasp]

Forehead smooches 💋

It's important to smooch your Soap at least once per day <3

[a-b-riddle]

Can’t stop thinking about poly141 who get so wrapped up in their own bullshit they begin to neglect reader. So you leave 🤷🏼‍♀️

It wasn’t a big deal at first. You understood that their jobs were intense to say the least. You own a bookshop, which in itself was exhausting, but you understood how they could get carried away with work.

You had excused the many delayed returned texts or missed FaceTime dates when they were deployed. When they came home, they almost always made it up to you. Showering you with attention and quality time.

But the past two returns home have been… different.

Usually at least one of them made a beeline to your shop or your loft if it was too late in the evening. You always held your breath when it was just one of them.

“They’re okay.” Was the usual answer. “Everyone made it back okay.” It was only then that you could melt into whoever’s hands you were in.

After one of their recent returns home you had voice to Price that you didn’t appreciate several days passing after they came back and no one had bothered to tell you. He had snapped. Arguing that a mission doesn’t finish just because they land back on soil. There was paperwork and debriefing to be done. If and when they wanted to see you they would.

He didn’t apologize until later. Crawling into your bed, using one of the keys you had given them. Blaming the stress. How they had almost lost Johnny for the reason of his outburst. What else could you do but forgive him?

So you had given them space after that one. Not holding it against them to decompress before seeing you.

The next time was the final straw. Solidifying how little they cared about you and how much power you had given them.

Johnny had come in around 7 one evening. He was dressed nicely, for civilian standards. You were reading a book on the couch when he had let himself in. You were wearing on of Simon’s sweatshirts and panties. He took you in for a moment before scooping you up.

He fucked you absolutely stupid. Adamant on having you cum on his tongue, his fingers and his cock. You were only able to bask in the afterglow of him filling you up before he started pulling his pants back on.

“What are you doing?” There were times that you would practically need a crow bar to get Johnny detached from you just long enough to relieve yourself. You had gotten many a UTI courtesy of Mr. John MacTavish.

“Dinner with my family tonight.” He explained by the time he was already buttoning his shirt. “The youngest just graduated and ma’ feels the need to go all out.” Now came the tie. Johnny was actually wearing a tie. To go to dinner. “A fancy dinner in London.” He huffed. “Meanwhile I’m out scufflin’ with bloody fuckin’ terrorists and I get a pat on the back.” He gave you a peck on the cheek before heading out the door. Promising to call you later.

You just sat in your bed. Still naked. Almost in shocked. He had fucked you and just… left. You were close to a panic attack as you called Simon.

Simon wasn’t the one to cuddle and coddle. But there was something so soothing at the sound of his voice or even how his heavy body felt perfect laying on top of you. Yes. Simon wasn’t the time to lift you up with words, but he was your own security blanket. Just having him close helped.

“Can you come over?” It wasn't unusal for Simon to be the one to come later in the evening. Insomnia was a bitch to deal with and you could sleep through the sounds of whatever he played on the tv. Most of the times you were content laying your head on his lap as he ran his hand along your head as if he were petting you. It was a bit cringe, but it knocked you out every time.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. The low timber of his voice already calming you.

“Johnny came over.” You sniffled. “He just fucked me and left.”

“Not surprised.” He scoffed. You could almost see him rolling those deep brown eyes of his. “If you wanted to cum, I’m happy to come over and help.”

For whatever reason, that only seemed to make you more upset. “You’re not listening.” You said, trying to spell it out for him. “He left. Like didn’t even stay and cuddle just left. Fucked me and left.”

“That’s why you’re calling me crying about?” He almost seemed… annoyed.

“Yes!” You said, nearly snapping. All of the tension from the last several months coming to the surface. “I’m not just a warm body to keep a bed cozy until you assholes decide you need to get one off.” Assholes. You called them assholes. “This isn’t what we agreed to.”

“Johnny is Johnny.” Simon tried to defend, not really caring to continue the conversation now knowing that you weren't in any sort of physical harm. “He wanted his dick wet and from the sound of it, that’s what he did. Don’t hold it against him because he had other things to do.”

“It’s not just Johnny leaving.” Your throat felt like it was tightening. A telltale sign you were close to crying. Whether from sadness or anger you weren't entirely sure. “The only time any of you want anything to do with me anymore is to fuck.” You missed date nights and lunches. You missed texting any and all of them about your day, about theirs. About new books. You had been trying for months to tell them over dinner one of your books got picked up. Yours was being traditionally published.

None of them had bothered to even try penciling you in.

“You got yours.” You heard the popping of a can top. Simon was settling in for the night. Once he popped a top at home there was no getting him out. He wasn't coming for you. “I don’t understand what you’re bitchin’ to me about. Yeah, in the beginning we indulged ya a bit? Dressed you up, took you out. But you should have known spreadin’ them legs of yours wouldn’t end with one of us puttin’ a ring on your finger.”

You didn’t know what to say. What could you say? These were the men that pursued you. Initially, individually, but when tensions became to much they offered a solution. All of them. Four times the attention, of the affection.

Four times the love.

But also four time the neglect. Four times the amount of heartbreak and disappointment. Loving all of them meant putting yourself in a position to let each of them hurt you in their own way and they had.

John's constant state of snapping at you as if you were one of his men.

Johnny swinging by as if you were just a fuck buddy. Not even bothering to give a peck before leaving.

Kyle essentially ignoring you for weeks now. Ghosting you for hours or having to cancel on date nights last minute or claiming that he really did forget that the two of you had planned to meet for lunch.

And now there was Simon. Telling you that all you meant to them was what was between your thighs.

Spreadin' them legs of yours wouldn't end with one of us puttin' a ring on your finger.

None of them ever intended on making this into something more. That much was clear now.

You didn't know what to say to Simon. You couldn't think of a witty retort. You couldn't find the proper insult to whirl his way. You couldn't convey just how much his words had hurt.

So you did the only thing you could.

You hung up.

[sofasoap]

First time - Part 2

Pairing : Kyle “Gaz” Garrick x F!reader

Summary: years of pinning, you find an excuse to get close to your best friend, Kyle. Now Is he going to say yes to your plan?

Part of Gaz Fest 2023

Warning : E rating. Slight angst. Pinning. Friend to lovers. Insecurity. Smutty smut.

A/N: Thank you @glitterypirateduck for organising the writing festival!! * cheering *

Enjoy!!

Master list

His hand glides back and forth the small of your back, the other slides up along the spine, coming to a stop at the nap of your neck, lightly holding it. 

Leaning closer, he whispered in your ears.

“I have one condition.” Pulling back slightly, staring into your eyes with the usual softness you noticed that is only reserved for you. “I’ll treat you to the full package.”

“Full package?” your eyes narrowed slightly, confused. 

“Like I said before, Sunflower, I don’t want this to be a loveless sex.” You open your mouth, trying to say something, but the gentle caresses of his thumb along your neck, rubbing little circles stopped you. “I want you to treat you to dinner,” Clearing his throat, “A…  a date, first, if you can call it that.”  Please call it that. You thought pleadingly.  But you know he doesn’t mean it by a real date. “To, to get you in the mood.”  Why is he getting flustered and nervous all of sudden? You wondered. 

“And um, then, we can. Proceed. With ..” stuttering slightly, he took a deep breath.

“The deed.” 

You suddenly burst out laughing. Breaking the moment. 

Biting your lip to try to control your laughter, leaning into his shoulder. “I am sorry if I am pressuring you into this, Kyle. You don’t have to go through with this if you don’t want to. I can find someone else. “ letting out a sigh as you finally calm down from your laughter.  “Sam seems to be pretty enthusiastic when I mention to them last time that I haven’t had anyone…”

“No. NO please, let me do this. I don’t trust anyone else looking after you.” There’s his knight in shining armour attitude again. Always there to protect you. That is why you fell for him. Love him. He’s always looking out for your back. As you do for him. 

Straightening himself up, gaining his confidence back slightly as he plastered his signature smile on his face. 

“So, Sunflower, where would you like to go for the pre-deed date?” 

“You look very lovely with that dress, Sunflower.” He smiled.

You are sure there’s one. Yours. You are for sure he is going to break your heart again for the second time by the end of the night. Shattering it even harder than the last. When both of you part ways. And with possibly complete change in your friendship. 

Your mouth gaped as you see there, stands Kyle Garrick, in dark colour tight jeans, long sleeve turtle neck with a sand colour leather jacket. With a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Ready to pick you up for … the supposed pre-deed date.

How many hearts has he captured and broke with his handsome look?

Before you spiral down too far, you decide you should just enjoy this moment, living out your fantasy. The fantasy of Kyle Garrick has finally asked you out on a date, to be his lover, the one and only, your happily ever after. 

He isn’t joking when he mentions to get you into the mood during the date.

“You know that is my favourite dress? It really accentuates your figures well.” 

“You smell really nice. New perfume?”

“There's a bit of chocolate on your face…Let me wipe it off for you.”

“Come. Hold my hand. So I don’t lose you in the crowd.”

The few comments and warm looks from the passerby as the two of you standing by the dock, watching a cruise ship slowly pulling away from the port, sailing into the distance, chatting about the possible destination of the travellers.

“Oh,aren’t you two a cute looking couple. I remember my husband used to take me walking along this Strand for dates when we were too poor to go on proper dates in a restaurant..” The old lady smiled and looked up to the old man beside her, who was lost in his own fond memories. 

You can almost feel Kyle's smile as he kisses the top of your head, pulling you tight against him before replying, “Oh, this is why I am bringing my beautiful girlfriend here now, creating memories so we have something to look back to when we grow old together.”

To anyone’s ears, this would certainly be a possible marriage proposal. But you know it isn’t. 

That sincerity in this tone just makes your heart flutter and melts. You start to waver, does he really mean what he just said?

No. he makes it very clear. This is only a pre-deed date. Just to get you into the mood.

And he certainly has done it. 

Now, standing in the middle of your bedroom, clasping both of your hands together,  you look down onto the floor at your own feet. 

You couldn’t stop shaking as both of you waited for each other to make a move. 

Maybe this is a bad idea after all. Maybe you should have just faced the fact that you're going to stay a virgin until you die. Or you will never have Kyle to yourself. Not even as …… 

“We can stop here if you want Sunflower. I don’t want you to think we have to go through with this.” Sensing your hesitation and discomfort radiating through, he took a step forward, breaking your thought, gently enveloping your hands with his, caressing your knuckle with his thumbs. “We can just end the evening here, I’ll just … “

“No!” Coming out slightly more forceful than you expected, you gulped as you shake your head before tilting your head up, glossy eyes slowly blinking with a softer but determined tone.

“I want you, Kyle. Take me. Please.” 

He lets go of your hands, slowly sliding up your arm, towards your shoulder, your neck, and comes to a stop as he cups your jaw, leaning down with his lips hovering over yours, as if asking for that final permission again. 

Tilting your head slightly, closing the gap. Feeling his warm and slightly chapped lips on yours.

Since when you hit adolescents, when you realise your attraction to him is not just mere childhood crush. 

How you have dreamt of this moment for a long time. YEARS. 

Maybe there was some teenage hormone rage happening at the same time. But even now, there are nights of dreaming about him, trying to relieve that ache with your own hands, it was never enough.  Nothing ever satisfied you. 

Boldly, sliding one of your hands behind him and sliding down between the gap of his pants, grabbing onto his butt, the other underneath his top, feeling both of his firm abdominal muscles, lightly scratching it with your nails. Teasing him a bit. 

That seems to tip him over the edge. He grabbed you by the waist, pulling you closer to him. 

“For someone who claims never had any experiences before, you are certainly a tease. Look how hard you make me.” Rolling his against you, feeling the almost hardened cock even through the material. 

Fuck. If you weren’t aroused before, now you were pretty sure your core is dripping wet. You never heard him talking in such a dark and lusty tone before. You wouldn’t say you dislike it. What you will do to hear more of it. 

“Lacey lingerie? All for me? What a pretty girl…” you can hear his amused tone as he turns you around, pulling down the zipper of your dress, letting it drop down to the floor. 

Your body is heated up with his comment. You have debated days ago if you should wear something special underneath, or just a plain safe option of your normal underwear. But now you are glad you bit the bullet and went to the shop and got the lingerie set after hearing his praises. He leans down and plants light kisses trailing down from the tip of your ears down towards your neck and shoulders. 

“Kyle….” You whimpered as you tighten your thighs together, trying to get a bit of relief. He quietened you with a little shush, before coming back up and kissing your temple. You need him now. You can’t take anymore of his teasing. 

“Just relax. I will take care of you, love. Don’t worry.” lightly grabbing onto your breast, teasing the nipple through the thin fabric, as the other hand slights down, cupping your sex, and slide his hand back and forth

You moan and gasp as he pushes the fabric aside and slides one of his fingers in, rubbing lightly on your clit with his thumb and slides his other fingers through the slit. 

This is better than your own finger. Even better than you imagined. 

Before you know it, your first orgasm hits you fast as he rubs circles with his thumb on your clit, eyes closed, you lean back against him, biting your own lip trying to suppress the urge of screaming out loud. 

He slows down his ministration as you ride out the waves of your orgasm, whispering words of praise. If not for his strong arm circling around your waist to hold you up, your jelly like leg wouldn’t even support you up. 

Oh. 

Slowly pulling out his fingers and after tilting his head down to give you a deep kiss, he bent down a little, arm behind your knee to scoop you up into a bridal carry.

Carefully lowering you on to the bed, taking a moment to admire you, he stood back from the bed, slowly undressing himself. His beautiful toned body slowly reveals as he shreds each piece of clothing. Until the last one disappeared onto the floor. 

OH. he is. 

Well endowed. 

Like the rumours you have heard. 

Jokes have been made around the table amongst close friends how “well grown” Kyle has been, but you always thought that is just shits and giggles amongst the mates and men throwing at each other, but seeing is believing. 

Rumours confirmed. Fact. Ticked. 

You tense up. Feeling like a novice jumping straight into the hardest setting in a game, you wondered how in the hell are you going to take him?! 

Snapping back from your thought, you saw Kyle crawling onto the bed with a box condom and a tube of lubricant. 

“I, ah, didn’t know if you have any so I brought some for you..” he smiled shyly, holding the items up. 

The ever thoughtful Kyle. It's actually quite touching.

When he was about to grab the packet of condom, your hand reached over, asking in a quivering tone.

Your shoulder relaxed slightly, nodding your head as silent thanks. He edges forward on his knee, and nudges your leg to spread open slightly. Although you only just came down from your orgasm, you feel like you are ready to go again with his fingers works around the area, gently applying the lubricants.

You don’t think you will ever get enough of his touching you. Nor you touching him. 

“Can.. can I.. put it on for you? Can you please teach me how?” you pull a nervous smile, asking him for permission. 

His gentle hand guides yours towards his arousal, taking in a sharp breath as you hold the base of his cock and slowly roll the condom down his length.  

Aiming at your sex, he slowly and gently pushes his tip in, inch by inch, letting you get used to the stretch.

“Try to relax, love.. Take your time. No pressure here..” he leans forwards, giving you light kisses on the face as he notices your face contorted with discomfort and pain. “You are doing so well.. Taking me…just tell me when I can move, at your own pace.”

Grabbing onto his shoulder, you try to relax as much as possible, nodding your head to urge him to push on, until he is fully seated inside you. 

Such a strange sensation, him inside you. So big. So hot. You feel like you are melting into one with him. 

You take another deep breath in, looking up at him with your hooded eyes. You can see his jaws tighten and eyes full of lust as he looks back down at you, trying to control himself for your sake. 

“I am ready. Please. Kyle.” You begged. 

Starting slowly, he slides his cock out, before thrusting it back in again. And repeating the motion, again and again, but you can feel he is holding back slightly, afraid to hurt you if he moves too much. 

You throw your head back, reaching your second orgasm of the night, screaming out his name. Amongst the haziness of orgasm, you feel him going for a few quick short sharp thrust before reaching his own high, groaning out loud as he rides it out. 

Slowly the discomfort and pain is taken over by that familiar feel of delightful heat pulling around your lower region. You start rocking your hip upward, to meet with his thrust, trying to chase that bliss that you have felt earlier on.

He pushes your legs towards your body more, hitching the feet onto his shoulder to get a deeper angle, you let out a loud moan as he has hit the perfect spot. One of his hand made its way towards your clit, pinching it lightly.

Collapsing on top of you panting away, he buried his face in between your breast, trying to steady his breathing. 

“Heaven..… I can’t believe it.. Oh gosh.. I love you.”

Your head snapped up from the pillow, looking down at him. You felt him tensing up as soon as he realised what had slipped through his mouth. 

“You…“  Did you hear him right? “You.. love me?” you asked in a very small voice. Body starts to shake. This must be just post-sex brain talking, right? There is no way possible he loves you. 

Awkward silence lingers, you try to push yourself up, trying to get away from him, but he grabs onto your arm before you can fully pull away, and head raises up and looks at you, with pleading eyes. 

“I.. I never intended for it to come out this way. I am sorry.” he replied in an almost choking voice. 

See? He is regretting what he said already. There is no way he loves you.

“That’s why you refused.” you whispered.

“You don’t know how happy I was when you came to me about your… proposal,” he continued.  Closing his eyes, recounting the memory. “I don’t know how you feel about me, other than being a close friend. I didn’t want to take advantage of you.”

He nodded. Face falling back in between your breast again, feeling his hot breath on your skin as he let out a breath. 

“But I was so heartbroken seeing you running away from me..planning to run away into another person’s arms with the same proposal. How can I let that happen? I want to be your special one.. I want to be your first.” he gulped, “I want to be loved by you.” 

“Way too long. Even the others have noticed it.. I suspect.” 

“Kyle…” you lift your hand, running your finger through his short curly hair. “I.. I've been in love with you since we were young.” You confessed. His head snapped back up, suddenly hope glittering in his eyes, “I .. never thought you will return my feeling, I was too scared to make a move, and I was sick and tired waiting for you to make a move.” tears streaming down your face, he reaches up gently, wiping it away. “And I thought, using this excuse, at least.. At least I can be with you first and last time, and move on. Forget about going after you. Just keep our relationship as friends.”

“Oh my Sunflower…” he leaned his forehead against yours. “Looks like both of us have been hiding from each other. For a long time.”

Kyle’s eyes snapped open, brows raised. 

“One of them pushed me to just get on with it and ask you.”  you smiled. “ and I am glad they did.” 

“So do I..” After a brief pause, Kyle wriggling himself around a bit, to pull out from you, throwing away the used condom. You moaned slightly at the loss of the heat and feeling of him.. 

You raise your eyebrows as he grabs another condom from the box, and his cock already recovering from the session. 

“We gotta make up for all that lost time, right?” he winked. 

Oh, you wouldn’t say no to that. 

“Like I said, my Sunflower, there are still a lot of tricks up my sleeve I need to show you.. We have all night to go through it all.” 

@deadbranch

This chapter went on way longer than I expected. oops.

@kaplerrr

@homicidal-slvt

@lia0-0

@floral-force

@saltofmercury

@siilvan

@rileyslibrarian

@mistydeyes

@okayyadriana

@a-small-writer-in-a-big-world

@jynxmirage

@nrdmssgs @schr-torta @glitterypirateduck@devcica @cumikering@roosterr

@groguspicklejar

@obsolescent @whydoilikewhump

[soapybutt17]

Call Me Little Sunshine

Summary: The Captain was a reasonable man that cared less about most of the rules in the base. You can have a relationship with whoever you damn well please as long as it does not affect your work. But there was one rule that he stood by until the day he dies: No one would touch his sweet daughter. Too bad Gaz has a thing for breaking the rules. Characters: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Price!Female Reader. John Price. Simon Riley. Soap MacTavish. Warnings: AU. Pre-Established Relationship. Mostly Crack! Fics. Smut. Canon Typical Violence. Mostly Fluff. A Dash of Angst.

You are My Sunshine

Light of My Life

[yooopii]

another life is ours

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Female!reader

wc: 2,483

co-written with @ems_tpwk!!

You’re sent on an important mission. In the midst, it doesn’t go exactly according to plan.

The mostly quiet clink of Price’s mug of tea being placed on the wood table was one of the only sounds in the mostly quiet common room. He sat down next to his other squadmates, who were busy conversing in-between each other as they played a simple card game. Soap was donning a plain t-shirt with leggings, while Ghost wore a black compression shirt and grey sweatpants. Price himself was wearing a semiformal white V-neck button-up, along with blue jeans. Ghost mumbled something about having shit cards, and Soap threw down one of his and chuckled as Ghost placed a hand on the bridge of his nose.

The door to the common room opens, and the three men seated at the table look up at the both of you. They watch as Gaz nods and greets everyone in the group as he walks to the table, you trailing right behind him, not so far behind. Gaz is wearing a comfortable blue sweater, with black sweatpants, and his famous blue cap. All around the board, everyone looks nice and comfortable in their casual clothes. You were wearing a black hoodie, along with similar sweatpants to Gaz. The both of you take a seat at the table, with you right beside him. Leaning onto him as he asks to be dealt into the game. You loved little domestic moments like this with your taskforce, as rare as they are, as comforting as they are. You hoped you'd get to see more domestic moments with your fiancee, thought. It was his hoodie you were wearing, after all, the smell enveloping you as you took deep breaths in.

You two decided not to hide the fact you were newly engaged, but not to tell it outright either. The compromise was wearing each other's rings, the small, golden band on your finger with an emerald gem on top sparkling on your right ring finger, along with a flat, thick version of yours on his own hand. It had been barely a month since he asked you to be a Garrick, and you were over the moon. You oh so gladly accepted. You two have been through thick and thin together, so why not make it forever?

Price, who knew all too well of the little mannerisms new couples, or old ones for that matter, always did. As he took long sips of his warm tea, he glanced at the two right next to each other. You were wearing Gaz’s hoodie, which was his long ago when he first joined the military but it quickly became too small as he started gaining muscle daily. Gaz didn't exactly like much physical contact for him, maybe a pat on the shoulder every once in a while was fine but full-on leaning, almost considered snuggling? That was unheard of, he knew something had to be up between the two.

“Gaz, Y/N.” He spoke quickly, making both of them wonder if they fucked something up. The two of you look over to your captain, who is wearing a smug smile as he places his mug back down.

“Why did the two of you,” He glanced in between you, making you squint in confusion. “...ask for time off, at the same time, for the same time?” Gaz’s eyes widen just a smidge, and glances over to you, who sighs softly as nods at him with a half smile. It was time to tell them the news anyway, even if they were getting the invitations later that month. Soap and Ghost glance over at you, curiosity filling their gazes, wondering if he was about to admit a deep dark secret of his.

“We’re getting married in a few weeks,” You added onto that, with a bigger grin this time. “And apparently, nobody here has enough patience to let us create an email… we haven't even sent out the invitations yet.” She smiled as she hugged her lover's arm tighter, watching as the other three’s eyes widened, Price giving a content chuckle and nod as he congratulated them. Soap and Ghost do the same with a smile on their faces, but then Ghost kicks his leg under the table. Soap scowls, mumbling some incoherent shit about betting against shit he knew he was going to lose. He dug into his pocket and fished out his wallet, throwing down two notes on the table as Ghost laughed and pocketed them both. Gaz noticed the transaction, and laughed himself hoarse, asking in between strained breaths if they really bet about him and you being together. Soap grumpily explained the bet, and even Price couldn't hold in his laughter. Neither could you, as your shoulder shook with silent chuckles.

A couple of days later, your captain had called for a briefing. He had said that he had received information that Konni was in London, that they had complete access to the train networks, and that Makarov planned to take over the tunnels and destroy them with civilians still inside. That leads you to where you are now, TF141 along with SFO’s, headed to the channel tunnel where your info said Makarov would be. Your task force had to split up into two groups; you, Gaz, and Price in one, along with a handful of SFOs. Ghost and Soap lead the other, with the remaining SFOs.

Trains run through the tunnels as Konni gets a hard grip on the network. You had multiple intense shootouts with Konni as they defended their plan as you attempt to pursue Makarov until he's marked as confirmed KIA. Minutes later, you and your group find an active bomb, which is close to detonating. You and Gaz end up stuck trying to disarm it, while Price and the SFOs defend off the Konni as you two desperately try to disarm the bomb. Price calls for reinforcements over the radio, your palms getting more sweaty as each second ticks by. Gaz asks for a couple of things needed to disarm it, like the manufacturing logo and the serial ID. You hurriedly repeat them back, looking over at your fiancee as his finger touches the very button needed to disarm the bomb, but he is rudely interrupted. The tablet gets knocked out of his hands. “Bloody hell—” He barely gets the sound out as he turns his head, and sees the very person you're trying to kill, Makarov.

Gaz raises his gun in defiance, but before he can make any decision on what to do next, his gun gets knocked out of his hands, and he takes a bullet in the shoulder. He hits the ground with a wince, watching as you get the same fate as him. You hiss at the pain radiating off of your shoulder, but you ignore it as you watch Konni surround him. “Y/N! Shit—” He curses out as he's dragged off the ground harshly, landing on his knees as he attempts to fight back, but it gets him a hard punch to the cheek. “Tie them up.” You hear Makarov’s degrading voice order, sending a nasty glare his way.

Your lover's hands are roughly yanked forward as he grits his teeth, whispering curses to the Konni doing this to them. He is now immobile as his hands are tied above his head, his feet being handcuffed and tied. His shoulder was bleeding tremendously, but he ignored the pain radiating off in waves through his body, it was the least of his worries. He keeps searching for you in the chaos until he finds his love tied up on the ground in front of him. Price was dragged right next to you, with the same fate. He growls curses at their attackers and does his best to escape, but that leaves him with a blow to the head from the butt end of a gun, his head falling limp to the side. You call out his name, but there isn't a response. That sends a shock of worry and fear down your spine, eyes widening as you realize the SFOs have all been killed.

A warehouse door opens, revealing Ghost and Soap, along with the rest of the SFOs, who have gotten to the scene too late. They're immediately surrounded by hostiles, unable to break through the wall and get to the three of you. At this point, the only thing on Gaz’s mind is that his fiancee is bruised up, bleeding, and tied up in front of him. You were about to speak, but Gaz beat you to it. “Let her go, you fucking bastards!” He curses out, as you spit insults at the men, never staying still for them. Makarov slightly side-eyed you as you spat curses at him and his men, but the annoyance dribbled away as he noticed a glimmering gold, emerald gem ring on your right hand.

“Well, well… look what we have here.” He chuckles as he approaches you, crouching down as he rips the rings off your finger. You go to protest, but you realize it wouldn't get you literally anywhere. He orders his men to do something in Russian and they all nod, checking Price and Gaz for a ring as well. One of them calls out, claiming he found a similar one on Gaz. He pulled it off of his finger as he gave it to Makarov. You grit your teeth as your head hangs low. Makarov lets out a low chuckle as he takes the ring, a malicious grin on his face.

A chuckle vibrates low in his throat before speaking, “The one-four-one…back at it again, huh?” He smirks. “Shadowing your failures with the aspect of love? Чертовы тупицы.” He looks back down at his hand, the two rings shimmering in the dull light, then back at the three tied-up members on the cold concrete.

“Убей его.” One of the men quickly raises their gun to Gaz’s head and your eyes widen in fear, and your pupils dilate as well. “DON'T!” You scream out and try to free yourself of your restraints, but it’s no use as Makarov points his gun at you, keeping you still. Tears beam at your eyelids as you realize this isn't something quick and easy you can get out of. This is the end for either You, Gaz, or both of you.

You blink rapidly in an attempt to get rid of the tears, but it only makes them worse. You look into your lover's eyes, yours saying much more than words could ever speak. He returns the expression by staring into yours. His eyes have a mix of sorrow, and a very apologetic look. One loud ringing shot in the air, one shot was all it took for your fiance, the love of your life, your soulmate, to fall limp on his side, blood pooling near his head.

Your eyes widen big, more than you thought possible as you inhale a giant shaky breath before letting out the loudest ear piercing scream known to mankind. You dont have a chance to do anything else except stare at his lifeless body before you barely hear Makarov order something in Russian to the men. If you weren't stuck staring at his dead body, you would have seen Ghost and Soap starting to push through the men surrounding them.

Two of his men come up to you and grab you by your underarms. “NO! DON'T TOUCH ME!” you try to fight against your restraints as your eyes don't leave Gaz. You scream out for him to no avail. Ghost and Soap barely catch a glimpse of you before going to disarm the still ticking bomb, the British Police covering for them as they do so. You keep screaming till your throat is raw as tears flow freely down your face, not being able to hold them back anymore as they drag you away from your dead fiance.

They finish disarming the bomb as you're no longer able to be seen. “Bombs disarmed.” Ghost speaks to Soap who is now staring at their dead squadmate. To make matters worse, you were nowhere to be found, and Price was still tied and passed out, along with you and Gaz’s emerald engagement rings tossed next to his lifeless cold body on the hard concrete.

You wake up in a dazed panic, your entire body slightly throbbing in pain. Your eyes widen to take in your surroundings. You remember very few things, trying to disarm a bomb, it all going to shit. You remember one very clear image, your fiance on his side, seemingly passed out, but that unfortunately was pushed to the back of your mind as you try to lift your hands, finding them tied to a chair and unable to move. You try your feet, only to find the same outcome. You curse to yourself, looking down at your clothes to see they were changed. It was a flimsy shirt that barely covered you fully, along with poorly bandadged shoulder from where you were shot. At least they did that much. Shit, what did they do to you? 

You sigh as you realize that they probably marked you as KIA. There was no way of contacting your task force even if you tried. There was no way of figuring out time, or what's going to happen to you now.

Minutes later after lots of thinking, you hear that grating Russian accent. You glance up to see the same person who you were targeted to kill. Makarov. You snarl as he comes closer, trying to raise a hand in defense when you seemingly forget your hands are still bound behind you. 

“Ah, can’t do that can you? I need you to answer my questions, and who knows, you might even escape.” His voice has a sickeningly smooth edge to it, knowing very well that he has the upper hand over this siuation, and even your entire task force. You waited till he stood directly in front of you, taking the chance to spit on his vest.

He scowled as you did so, staring at the spot on his vest where you spat. He pulled a hard punch on the side of your jaw, making your head cock in the direction of his fist.

“You will answer my questions whether you like it or not, truthfully, and no hesitation.” He rubbed the knuckles on his fist, glaring at you with a hatred you could only mirror in your own eyes. He puts a sadistic smirk on his face, “Now…let's get started shall we?”

thank you all for reading!!

part 1 / part 2

[celenawrites]

safe and sound

Pairing - Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick x f!Reader

Warnings - Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots-in-love, pining, mentions of injuries and blood, mentions of needles, mentions of death, mentions of religious metaphors and the like (is it obvious that I have some religious trauma?), lots of yearning and tender moments(they should probably talk it out, but they won't - what a bummer), kinda whump/whumpee scenario, Gaz is forward with the praise, a lot of subtle yearning, somewhat open-ending.

Summary -

You're bleeding and bruised when he finds you.

Category -

1. One-shot

8. Safe House

Prompts -

5. 'I'll take care of you.'

11. 'Let me see you.'

14. 'Stay still.'

15. 'Take it off.'

Word Count - 2.8k

AO3 Version

Note -

This fic was written for 'Gazfest 2023' being organized by @glitterypirateduck. This event has led me to discovering so many writers and so many great stories for Gaz!

Check it out here: - Gazfest 2023

The mission had gone smoothly, for the most part. 

No one had died, no one was compromised and your team had been able to locate the weapon cache the cartel had been hiding in their expansive warehouse - stashed in the very heart of their operations, surrounded by drugs, guns and blood money. 

And yet you cannot help but feel like you have failed somehow. 

You lean against the wall, sitting on the island of the wash basin as you calmly debate the merits and demerits of forgoing a much-needed bath. You make a little game out of it - writing in your little mental lists about how fucked you’d be if you decide to not clean yourself up. 

Pros - you can go to sleep on the uncomfortable cot laid out in the small bedroom, you can go eat some awful MREs, you can talk to your captain and get an update on when you will leave, and did you mention that you can finally hit the hay?

Cons - you stink, your uniform is soaked in blood and sweat, you have injuries that you need to tend to (something that you do not look forward to), and you’re sure that you’d feel so much better if you take a steaming hot shower. 

Too bad that the water runs cold here. 

It is when you’re wholly absorbed into completing your mental checklist, when you see the door in front of you shake and hear the incessant sound of someone knocking on the wooden barrier as if it has personally offended them. 

You call out hesitantly, unsure about your ability to get up from your uncomfortable seat without worsening the injury into the side of your torso. 

“The door’s unlocked”. 

And that is where you seem to have messed up. 

The doorknob twists and the door is pushed open to the side, revealing a very pissed Sgt. Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick standing on the threshold of the room. You stare at him with wide eyes, and he wears an almost enraged expression on his handsome face, despite his best efforts in schooling himself to appear nonchalant to you. 

He has shed off his heavy jacket, his undershirt peeking from the few buttons of his military shirt. In one of his hands, he carries a first aid kit. And you take a secret oath in your mind to kick ass of whoever tipped him off about you. 

Probably Soap, that fucker-

The sergeant was the last person you wished to see at the moment, within reason. 

There has been a weird tension between you and him for the past couple of weeks. Ignored texts, brushed off advances, physical barriers and distances initiated by him that made you wonder if the bond you shared with the man had been nothing but a mirage that helped you tether your sanity as you survived the everyday grimness that haunts a person working in the military.  The ache in your heart had soon turned into a silent indignation of sorts, egging you on to match each action of his with a petty counteract of your own.  You refused to seek his company, and malevolent compliance had been your best companion when the direct chain of command forced you to listen to anything the sergeant requested; clearly the head on your shoulders worked well enough for you to prioritize the mission and the safety of your comrades over anything else, but it was extremely satisfying to watch your friend (The same friend who had just cut you out of his life in all regards like an invasive weed - forgetting that once its roots take place, the weed is nearly impossible to get rid of; and you’d be damned if you let him get rid of you so easily.) seethe in anger as you obey his commands on your own terms.  It all came to a head a week prior to the mission you were supposed to go on with the entire team. You had been minding your business, really - barely sparing Garrick a glance as you went about your way to brew yourself a pot of coffee when you heard him muttering something under his breath. You ask him to repeat himself, and next thing you know is that both of you are screaming your heads off - him for your ‘insubordination’ and you for him being a major bag of dicks.  With defeat sagging your shoulders and a deep exhale to calm yourself down, you detach yourself from the scene, leaving the man behind to his own devices in the rec room. It’s a miracle you didn’t raise your fists against him - you’d certainly have ended up with a broken wrist had you not retreated like a poor prey with your tail between your legs. And Gaz would’ve ended up with a broken nose.  It was more astonishing that the angry cacophony of yelling had not summoned your captain to the scene of the crime. 

You hadn’t spoken to the man since then. 

He takes long strides towards the wash basin, and you are mere inches away from your superior - close enough to take note of the pensive look on his face, his eyebrows furrowed and enhancing his crow’s feet under the pathetic yellow glow of the shitty bulb-light illuminating the otherwise grim room. 

If this was a lighter moment, you’d have eased the tension by pressing between his eyebrows - massaging away his tension with a simple roll of your thumb against his skin. If you were not mortally wounded and your sergeant wasn’t pissed at you right now, you’d have cracked a joke at your expense to see him laugh, his chuckle warming you up like the flames that licked at your fingertips whenever you got close to the fire to cook at home. 

Unfortunately, this is not the moment for you to attempt to make merry. 

He slams down puts down the kit on the island, next to your thigh and you flinch at the sudden movement. Your skittering only seems to make your injuries sting worse, and you grab at your abdomen, groaning at the sudden pain that shoots through you. You look down at your clenched hands, and notice how the blood paints them red. Your eyes widen a little at the scene, your fingers shaking with tremors as you try to appear unfazed at the crimson staining your skin and your clothes. 

You are always surprised at the mortality you possess whenever you get a close brush with death, not knowing when it will be your last. 

Gaz opens the metallic box open, meticulously pulling out various instruments to put at his disposal - gauze, bandages, rubbing alcohol, sterilized needles, and sutures. He looks up at you, his eyes narrowing as he takes in your pained expression and your crimson fingertips twitching mid-air.

With a ticked jaw, he demands, “Take it off”. 

“W-What?” you mumble out the question, slightly confused at his sudden order. 

With a sigh, he repeats himself for you, “I said, take it off”. 

The blood loss, while not fatal, seems to be impairing you cognitively. 

Dumbly, you ask again, “Why?”

He rubs at his forehead in frustration, and you’re almost inclined to apologize for worrying him. You wish to run your nails through his curls, quietly pinching at his nape as you rest your forehead against his and beg him to forgive you for being such an idiotic mess. 

Instead, you lean against the tiled walls like a delirious fool, losing blood fast. 

Patiently, he explains to you, taking into account your slowing brain, “You need to get those wounds checked, don’t you now?”

You nod at him with pursed lips, not at all happy at your current predicament. You can try and refuse, and he’d only end up butting heads with you again. Or you can swallow up your pride, and let him fix you up - awkward as that might seem. 

“Let me see you, then”, he asks you, and the shake in his otherwise firm voice makes you comply. 

Silently, you unfasten the buttons of your military-issued uniform shirt with shaky fingers. 

One by one. 

One by one. 

One by one. 

Your fingers give up on the task just shy of the last two buttons of the garment, the tremors making it almost impossible for you to even steady your aching arm. 

“Shit, shit, shit”, you curse to yourself, your fingertips constantly missing the plastic buttons on the shirt despite your best efforts. Irked at your inability to master such a simple task, you cannot help the tears of irritation that well up in your eyes, blurring your vision and giving you a much harder time with something you could’ve been done with in seconds. 

Calloused hands touch yours, and you can feel your skin set ablaze at the fragility of the touch as you look into the eyes of your dear friend and coworker. Glassy eyes look into his dark ones, conveying every little thing you wish to tell him - anguish, yearning, guilt, remorse, and  love. 

Every little thing that you fail to put into words and speech because your mouth is suddenly very dry, as if you have swallowed cotton and your tongue is weighed down by a block of lead. 

He always made you feel so nervous. 

He calls out your name (it sounds so sweet, so pristine when he says it - he exhales out each syllable of your moniker in reverence, as if you were a prayer to be uttered with utmost vigilance and devotion) and you snap out of your thoughts - your ears heating up partly due to embarrassment and partly due to the sudden proximity you share with the man standing before you. 

“I’ll handle this, ‘k?” his fingers toy with your button, and you do not protest as he unbuttons the last few of them near the hem of your shirt, leaving the center of your torso exposed. The cotton fabric sticks to your skin, thanks to the oozing wound on your waist that you had been nursing in the bathroom for the past half hour or so. 

You feel bashful, and yet you do not have the energy to express it - your eyes feeling heavier with every blink and the deft fingers of your sergeant feel warm against your cold, pallid skin. You fight yourself to stay awake, not eager about sleeping with untreated injuries and the dizziness that plagues you due to blood loss. 

You feel him tap at your arms, and you raise them just high enough so that he can lower down the sleeves of your shirt and undress you, leaving you in nothing but in a pair of khaki pants and your plain black bra. This is the closest you have come to being nude around the man, and if you weren't in enough pain to want to shoot yourself in the foot for your stupidity, you’d have tried to cover yourself up with your hands at least. 

Sadly, all modesty flew out of the window the moment you decided to get hurt on the field. 

Sometimes, modesty seems to leave your brain whenever you’re around him too. 

Kyle observes you with narrowed eyes, assessing the damage you had accumulated because of him. A lapse in judgment on his part had resulted in him not keeping a close eye around him and almost taking a bullet to his head - had you not tackled the henchmen to the ground; the scuffle had ended when you had slit his throat with your favorite knife, but not before taking some injuries of your own. 

When he had asked you about it, you had shrugged it off at the moment, assuring him that whatever you are inflicted with is something you can handle just fine. 

Clearly that was a lie, if your bloodied body is anything to go by it. 

Your face bears a few nicks and cuts that have already ceased bleeding - nothing too bad. Your body from neck down, however, seems to be a macabre masterpiece. Purple and yellow bruises litter across your shoulders and love handles. There are a few cuts that are closed up with dried blood; some of them are long enough to warrant some surgical assistance for recovery. And then he takes into notice your bloodied waist - the gash still oozing with fresh blood. 

You probably got it from the henchmen who almost blew his head off. 

He cannot believe he had let you get hurt on his watch. And he chides himself even more for believing your lies so easily. 

He is still so angry. At you. At himself. 

He tears out a piece of gauze from the packet he had laid out beside you, before slowly soaking it in a generous amount of rubbing alcohol. Your shoulders tense at the implication, and Gaz notices. (Of course, he does. He always noticed everything when it came to you.)

“This one’s gonna sting” is all he says before he’s pressing the gauze against an open wound and you prevent the scream that works up your throat by biting your tongue, grinding your molars against the muscle and tasting iron in your mouth. 

Your body twitches like a wild livewire as Gaz tries his best to treat your wounds, barely giving you a warning before you can feel the alcohol burn into your skin. You do not scream, but your sensitivity to pain leads you to shed a few tears of agony as you wait it all out with baited breath.

“.....So fucking stupid”, you hear the sergeant grumble to himself in your haze as he cleans your wounds and every time the gauze touches your skin, you cannot help but inch away from his hands, unable to handle the painful aftermath. 

“Cannot believe…”

“You really had to-”

He cuts himself off before he could finish his sentences, or maybe your brain is on a gradual process of shutting down - making it harder with each passing moment to pay attention to what he has to say to you. Through your muddled thoughts, all you can decipher is that he sounds angry. 

He’s angry. 

You shift just a little, hoping to brace for the pain by moving away from it - your pain-addled brain making you believe that prolonging the contact with the rubbing alcohol would help you recuperate from the pain much better. It only made the wound in your side bleed more, the droplets of crimson flowing down your abdomen like an endless rivulet.  

Kyle notices that, and he quickly grabs you by your shoulders to stop you from moving too much. You squirm under his touch; his palms are far too hot for your freezing skin, and you’d have probably jumped at the impact, had it not been for the indestructible hold he has of you. 

“Stay still”, he commands you, and you stop any and all movement immediately. You’re not sure you wish to fire the fuel that has been ignited in him when he saw your injured body on the island slab of the basin. 

“That’s it, sweetheart”, he assures you, his hands playing with the tips of your hair to soothe you, and you can feel shivers run down your spine. It’s soothing, to still be able to feel and react to his touch as if it’s the first time. 

“It hurts”, you sob out to him, your hands itching to grab at the wound near your waist - desperate to put any pressure on it, to stop the red liquid from leaving you lifeless. You’re scared and it shows. 

You won’t die, not yet anyway. And that is the only comforting thought you can muster to hold onto. 

You won’t die, even if your insides scream from the agony it feels from all of its open wounds and the ache your relaxed muscles throb with incessantly. 

You feel like you’re dying, but God has favored you today yet again. 

You wonder if the reason is divine intervention or a divine curse haunting you. 

“I know, sweet thing. I do. You did so good out there, having my back, yeah?” he asks and you nod eagerly in response, hoping to make amends with Gaz just in case. 

Just in case you breathe your last right here right now. In case you have run out of favor with the unknown deity who has protected you all this time without you knowing. 

“I got this, okay? I got you”, he leaves a soft kiss on your forehead, murmuring the affirming words against your skin. You feel yourself lighten up just a little at the gesture, knowing that this was not only to console you, but his own peace offering to you for earlier. For every little transgression he had committed against you. 

For the fight. For everything. 

“I promise everything will be okay. I’ll take care of you.”, he assures you, and for a moment you have faith that you’d live through the pain if he’s the one tending to it. 

Note -

I saw Prompts 5, 14 and 15 on the list and I couldn't resist writing a 'tending to your beloved in the bathroom while they're sitting and you're standing in front of them' scenario. Also a long lost fan art of the bathroom scene between Kaz Brekker and Inej Ghafa is a huge inspiration for this fic. (I have the books but I haven't gotten around to reading them. I have seen clips of the show, and I regret not having Netflix. Also, the yearning between the two is immaculate and the fanart is like stuck in my head, so if anyone can find it and send it to me, I'd appreciate it a lot.)

This is my first time participating for an event (at least for this fandom and blog). I seldom do these challenges because I tend to procrastinate for too long and forget to write before the due date.

When I finally finished the initial edit of this fic this morning, I almost entertained the idea of extending this fic, maybe by writing a second part of this story and incorporating a few more prompts in the Gazfest. But I have way too many WIPs to pay attention to, an original manuscript I need to start working on (and another one I need to edit), and I need to prepare for my final year of college too - so this is all I can offer, I am afraid. Maybe I will write a continuation of this, maybe I will write things from Gaz's perspective, but I won't be able to finish it in time, I am afraid. But I hope you enjoyed reading it, just like I enjoyed writing it. :)

Also, nevermind the title. I suck at naming things and I suck with names - can never get it right anyway. (also the Taylor Swift song being used as a title was purely coincidental - I swear on it)