When on a relationship break, you decide to have a bit of fun at the bar, no friends, no Kyle, just you. But when your teasing reaches a certain point and Kyle witnesses it, he decides that two can play this game...
Cw: 18+ mdni, Possessive!Kyle, Kyle is not nice, Kyle and reader and both slightly toxic, reader being called names (pathetic, whore), public sex (public toilet), orgasm denial, mentions of drugs (a plug is mentioned once), reader flirts with a stranger, implied on and off relationship, reader is lowkey bratty, walk of shame lol, lmk if I forgot anything else
You had a fight with Possessive!Kyle, reason irrelevant, but you ended up having a break. Not a breakup— just a break. But he still went to the pub his plug told him you were sighted at "to rewind" and keep an eye on you.
The moment he got there, his eyes scanned the area to catch your figure, expecting to find you at the bar alone or with a friend, instead his eyes caught sight of you hitting on a man, a stranger.
Your dress had a low neck line, showing a lot of cleavage and the man's disgusting eyes were dragging down your body in hunger and filth. Kyle saw red, you were his and his only, and he made sure to make that clear.
He strides to where you were located at the bar, legs moving with purpose and precision, grips your wrist firmly and drags you away from the not-so civil conversation you were having and into the pub toilet.
The space was small, barely taking the two of you. He slams the door and locks it whilst ignoring your protests of 'What the fuck, Kyle?' and 'I was having a conversation! You can't just do that-' yada yada yada, he just had to shut you up himself.
And so he turns you around so you can see your reflection in the crooked dirty toilet mirror, eyebrows scrunched up in semi-anger and arousal, hands placed on the sink for support and neckline so low you could nearly see your areolas from this position.
Heat crept up your spine, wondering if this is what the man was seeing for the past thirty minutes. He probably thought you a whore, but it's too late to ponder about that now. Kyle already caught you and he was pissed from the looks of it.
It was his non-verbal way of showing you how well he can fuck you up.
He bunches the dress skirt that was barely there up your thighs and traces the lines of your lacy knickers, "My favorite too. You knew what you were doing, huh?" his voice whispers with a hit of mockery there, the smell of musk and whiskey faintly waving off of him. "Probably wanted that fucker to be here instead. Bend you over, fuck you senseless, hm?" his voice was full of anger, the words seeping through your skin, bones and settling into the marrow.
You turn your head slightly to look at him as he kneads your supple flesh in his hand. "What a frickin' view, luv" a lazy smile grazes his lips, showing his white pearls. "Fuck you, Kyle" a small pout of frustration forms on your lips. You felt called out, exposed, humiliated.
Kyle places his hand on the back of your neck and pushes your head to lean on the mirror, making you grip the dirty, unhygienic sink tighter "Oh that I will, luv. No rush, hm?" He leans his head beside yours, lips grazing the shell of your ear before whispering darkly, all amusement leaving his tone "Thought I'd remind ya who you belong to, luv. Since it seems as if you have forgotten."
A shiver ran down your spine and straight to your throbbing clit, anticipation and excitement washing over your body. Sure he was an asshole, and sure you were on a break, but that never means you'll leave him or lie with another. But you'd rather die than admit that now, so instead you bare your teeth at him slightly. "You don't own me." You bite at him, voice filled with irritation and a hint of pain.
Kyle hums in amusement and snakes his hand to your front, pressing a firm finger atop your throbbing nerves between your legs, making you shiver and throw your head forward slightly.
"But you're wet already." he says it so casually, like a fact, like its common knowledge, which in this case it is.
He finally yanks your panties to the side, exposing your entrance to the cold air, and traces a finger through your plush folds and straight to your clit. The mixture of friction and cold air exposed to your pussy has you buckling back at him and whining, the sound filthy and disgusting making him chuckle.
"What a whore." He tuts and lets his index finger circle your entrance to collect your slick just to slide it over to your clit and repeat.
Your hips move with his fingers, eyes shutting and breath quickening. Kyle knows what he's doing, he's not denying you fully, yet not giving you quite the satisfaction. His fingers are just present there, "Greedy."
He clicks his tongue when your hand reaches back to stall his movement just so you can grind properly. His fingers lace around your wrist and pin it to the mirror in front of you softly "Patience, luv. Keep your hands to yourself," you whine in response, frustration simmering beneath your skin and your face feeling hot from all the tension.
His fingers come back to your core, tracing the slit so agonizingly slow, your body was barely getting oxygen at this point, your pants fogging up the mirror in front of you and your back arching in hopes of getting any source of proper friction, having his fingers hovering not quite doing the job, just like an animal in heat, just how Kyle likes it.
After fifteen long minutes of teasing that felt like agony, Kyle finally presses a finger inside your dripping hole, the penetration feeling so delicious and good after all the ridicule he had you go through, and the moan you let out was so whorish and raw that you're pretty sure the whole pub heard you. And that's probably what Kyle was after, for the whole pub to know who you belonged to.
"Fuck, luv. So frickin' perfect for me, aren't ya'?" His grin reflected in the mirror, meeting your tired hooded eyes that can barely stay open.
"More, Kyle." a sigh escapes your lips and another moan fights its way from your vocal cords, all shame leaving your body when he curls his finger just right, the tip grazing the spongy wall you can't reach so easily with your own digits.
"All of this from one finger?" he chuckles, voice low with amusement, "Pathetic." he spat out, voice dark and filled with something that's not quite lust, but more possessive.
"You're always good for me, right?" He smiles that disgustingly sweet smile he always gives you when you're ruined and all you could do is nod your head pathetically. Though he wasn't feeling nice today, "Use your words." His free hand gripped your hair and pulled your head back, a small broken sound leaving your throat at the slight sting in you scalp.
"Y-yes, Kyle! Just for- ah- y-you!"
You didn't care that you still had an unfinished drink out there, or that the whole pub and that irrelevant man most probably heard your moans by now, all you wanted was to fucking cum, which Kyle made so fucking hard with how he maintained the slow and agonizing speed of his fingers. When did he even add another? You were probably too lost in pleasure to feel it slipping in.
Kyle's pace gradually sped up, making you roll your eyes and mumble a series of 'yes yes yes's and just when you were about to come over the edge, your voice turned hoarse and you were babbling incoherent nonsense of 'i-i'm about to c-cum!' his fingers disappeared.
His whole body disappeared, nowhere near you. No heat radiating into you, no hand gripping your neck or pushing your back into a deeper arch or even fingers inside you for god's sake.
Orgasm denied.
You quickly turn around, a scowl finding its way into your features once more to find Kyle with a smug smirk on his stupid face. Then he stretches his lips to the disgustingly sweet smile you hate, eyes wrinkling sightly at the corners.
"What the fuck, Garrick?!" You spat out, turning around to face him and pushing his at chest, tears finding their way into your eyes out of frustration, but you wouldn't dare let them fall in front of him.
"This 's supposed to be a punishment, sweetheart. Not my fault you enjoyed it too much." he emphasized the nickname, a chuckle escaping his cords. He extends his clean hand to catch your wrist, halting your movement when you move to smack his chest again.
"Fix yourself, Luv. We're going home." and by home he means his flat, and with that he's out of the toilet, fingers plucked between his lips as he sucks his fingers clean, letting your sweet arousal coat his tongue.
You turned around and briefly looked at yourself in the mirror. Hair a mess, mascara a mess, clothes a mess. Gosh, you hated yourself, and you hated Kyle even more. Cocky bastard.
You bent down and washed your face, trying to cool down your sizzling nerves and heated face. You grabbed a paper towel, wiped beneath your eyes at the black mess there and trashed it at the bin beneath the sink.
You took a deep breath, trying to not overthink what happened just now, because if you do you'll stay here all night refusing to leave the new sanctuary.
The walk from the pub to the car was agonizing, the walk of shame was unbearable; your drink was no longer at the bar, meaning the barmaid wasted it, the pub wasn't quiet, yet it wasn't as noisy as when you disappeared. The guy you were talking to prior just gave you a quick glance before quickly turning towards the new chick he found, already realized you're not available.
You reached the pub exit where Kyle is waiting, your purse and phone in hand. "Ready, sweetheart?" You wanted to curse him out, embarrass him in front of everyone just how he did you.
Maybe if you've actually came it probably wouldn't feel this humiliating, but it's on you after all for trusting Kyle when he gave you that tooth rotting smile and didn't even kiss you. You should've seen this coming, but what can you do now but suck it all up?
You quietly followed him outside the pub and into the car, slipping in when he opened the door for you. If he hadn't just denied you your orgasm, you would've thanked him or blushed at the thoughtful gesture, instead you settled on the car seat in complete silence.
The door on his side open and he climbs in, casually closing the door and inserting the key in the ignition lock, "You're silent, unlike you." He comments casually as he revives the engine, his hand placed behind your headrest to reverse the car out of the parking lot.
"And whose fault is it?" You reply, but there was no bite in it, only defeat and some sort of disappointment.
Kyle glances at you silently and smiles to himself, but you catch a glimpse of it, the fucker thinks he tamed you. He'll see next time, you'll edge the fuck out of him.
While you were planning your revenge, he moves his hand from the gear stick to place it on your thigh, his palm warm and calloused, making you snap out of your thoughts.
You didn't get a chance to comprehend the touch before he's lifting your dress and tugged on your panties "Off." his voice carried something different now, something dark and real, unlike his meaner sarcastic undertone earlier.
You look at him in confusion, and he raises a brow "Don't you want to cum, sweetheart?" he asked, lust coating his words.
You quickly took your panties off, discarding them on the footwell before spreading your legs a bit wider for him, exposing your glistening pussy to him, making him chuckle and rotate the wheel to take the road with the least amount of red lights, wanting to get home asap to deal with you.
kyle garrick x reader | gifted to anonymous for their donation to the Mikinakoos Children's Fund
prompt: Exhausted but silly and sweet wedding night. Sappy me up please and thank you
You’d stared at him, when the veil had been lifted. The shock of seeing Lord Garrick - Kyle, your Kyle - standing before the priest had nearly made you stumble as you stepped up onto the dais before the priest. Kyle’s eyes light up with his smile as he clasps your gloved hand in his.
CWs: MDNI/18+, cis woman reader, newlywed bliss, first time, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving) frotting
Note: Written as a part of this initiative. I'm honored to join some talented writers in gifting fanfic for donations raised to help Indigenous communities in Canada affected by wildfires. if you're interested in donating money and getting a fic gift, please follow the link!
The dress is beautiful and ornate. And you start crying actual tears of mirth and exhaustion when both you and Kyle struggle with all the fiddly little buttons. It takes ages, the two of you standing in front of the dressing table as he works the gown and you focus on the jewelry weighing you down from crown to collar bone. Through giggles, you have to tell Kyle to stop leaning down to kiss your back every time he manages to work a button open.
“You know,” he grumbles as you work on all the little pins. “Riley said he cut his bride out of her dress. I thought he was just being odd and uncouth, but maybe he was onto something.”
“Riley?”
“The Ghost,” he mutters under his breath. “His lady seemed charmed by him, and I hadn’t understood it. But now, I can kind of see why.”
Another giggle bubbles from your throat. “Oh! Do you know I thought I was going to wed him?”
That shocks another laugh from Kyle, which does not help you undress any faster. But eventually, the heavy fabric drops to the ground, leaving you in a simple chemise that feels light as a feather. You set the last of the hair pins and beaded flowers on the table in front of you before turning to face your husband.
Kyle has long stripped down to an undershirt and trousers, and you can’t help but admire the slope of his shoulders, the shape of his arms as he takes you in. His smile and laugh, the way he kept looking to you at the party, is all very much the boy you remember. But now, staring at you with hunger in his eyes, it’s hard not to see the man he’s become. But where other men’s eyes on you feel like something dangerous, Kyle’s eyes are a heat you want to throw yourself into.
“I think,” he whispers, “that tonight I want to kiss you, everywhere.”
You don’t have a chance to ask what he means before he’s sweeping you into his arms and kissing you with much more ardor than he had in front of the priest. When he starts kissing down your neck, drawing you toward the bed, you shiver at the ticklish sensation of his lips brushing sensitive skin.
It shouldn’t be a surprise when he lays you out over the sheets, but you can’t help the gasp that leaves your lips. His mouth drifts lower, pressing nibbling kisses to your collarbones and shoulders. A calloused hand smooths over your breasts until his fingers pluck gently at your nipple through silk. The way he chuckles at you makes the butterflies behind your sternum flutter.
The thin layer between you slides away as if by magic, and then his skin is really against yours. He groans as he cups your breast in his palm, and you echo the noise when his lips tease over the point of your other nipple. The appearance of his tongue surprises you, again, and you can’t help but grab at his shoulders.
“Kyle!”
He huffs a laugh and blows a cool stream of air over your skin. “Yes, my love? Feeling good already?”
Fabric bunches between your lower bodies, and he’s so hard as he rolls his hips into yours. You shiver as you open the cradle of your hips to him, have to drag him up to kiss him again, wet like you’ve only ever been after touching yourself for long minutes alone in the dark. You pant into each other’s mouths as he adjusts himself to shove away the last flimsy barrier between your bodies.
And then he’s pulling away to sit back on his heels, eyes hot as he takes you in. Whatever shyness you might have is overshadowed by your own lust as you drag your eyes down his body. He looks very different from when you were younger. All of the lankiness of youth has long been replaced, his time in the military turning him into a man capable of wielding a sword.
Your eyes dart down between his thighs.
A rather large sword. You giggle to yourself.
Kyle grins. “I never imagined how lovely it would be to see my wife smiling, naked, in my bed.”
Even as your face gets hot, you can’t look away from his eyes. “I had never dreamed I would smile at my husband in his bed.”
“Well,” he declares with a nod to himself. Shuffling back, he drops down until his shoulders are between your thighs. Strong hands arrange you until he can kiss the sensitive skin on the inside of your thighs. “I’d better give you more reasons to smile.”
You think you will be ready when he kisses you where you’re wet, except you very much are not. He moans when you grip at his short hair, and then his tongue touches gently at your pearl and you nearly jump out of your skin. You’d read about this, but even the most flowery prose pales against the reality of him using his lips and tongue to explore you, savor you.
Your husband is ravenous, you realize, as one of his fingers dips into you. The sensation is startling in its intensity, and you can’t help the way your hips pulse into it. Moans you didn’t know you were letting out stutter with your breath. Tension starts to coil in your belly, tighter and tighter as one finger becomes two that stroke at something inside of you, sending lightning up your spine.
You trip over your tongue as your peak rolls over you. “Kyle!”
“Fuck,” he moans, and then he’s up on his knees again, fingers still inside of you as he strokes and thrusts his cock against your pearl with loud, slick sounds. The feeling makes your hips jump again, jostles his fingers inside of you until you’re shivering and moaning as he spills over and into you.
“Gods.” He kneels there, panting, and slowly keeps stroking his fingers in and out. The noise makes your face heat again, and he chuckles when you cover your face with one hand. “You’re so beautiful.”
He withdraws his hand, slow and easy, and then flops onto the bed at your side. You make a confused noise when he pulls you against his side.
“Are we not…?”
He chuckles, pulling you close so he can press a kiss to your lips. “Not done with you yet, love. Got all night, and the rest of our marriage to learn exactly how to please each other.”
I'll turn these into full oneshots if anyone wants it.
Price: (141!Reader, alcohol use)
The typical post-op pub crawl is a sacred ritual for the 141. For whatever reason, the group wanted to switch things up and oder some shots after the first round of usual drinks. Everyone took turns choosing, but by the third one you were all rather loose-lipped.
Someone got the conversation onto past hookups and the guys share their respective conquests and incredible fumbles. Finally, you're asked for any good stories. "I dunno," you slur with a chuckle. "Never tried it."
"Never tried it?"
"Nope." You pop the 'P' sound, wisely reaching for the glass of water a waitress had brought over with your guys' second shots. "Besides, none of you seem like a good fuck anyway."
The guys take your tease in stride and laugh a little too loudly. Price, however, who had been secretly eyeing you for months now, stored your words away for later. By the end of the night, half the group was barely able to stand. Ghost and Gaz took a cab, Soap went home with a stranger, leaving yourself and Price to somehow get home safely.
"My place is closer," you suggest. "I have a guest room."
"Sounds good."
The drive is quick enough and the two of you stumble through the door and land on your couch. Somehow, you guys think it's a good idea to share a glass of wine as if you weren't tipsy enough. That's when Price brings up your earlier comment.
"So... you wouldn't shag any of us?"
You laugh, give him a once over, and shrug. "I mean... you're hot an' all, but like... you're kinda my boss."
"Doesn't matter to me." He leans in, glass placed on your coffee table before he takes your chin into his hand. "Besides, who better to learn from than your Captain~?"
Gaz: (Roommate AU, Queer-Platonic Relationship, Ase-spec!Reader (maybe))
It's lunchtime, barely past noon. What better time to discuss your sex life, or lack thereof, with your roommate? It started with Gaz joking that joining the military was "the sluttiest decision" he'd ever made. He tells stories about how soldiers take to working out post-mission adrenaline with a very special form of partnered cardio.
"I'm serious!" He claims as you laugh. "Soap and Ghost practically mate each other, and I'm pretty sure Price and Nik got somethin' goin' on too!"
"I don't know, I just don't get the appeal."
Gaz quirks a brow. "What? Telling me you've never had a good shag?"
"I've never 'shagged.' Period."
Gaz moves his plate to the side, attention now fully on you. "Really?? But you're, like, fuckin' hot."
You flick a wrapper at him. "Shut up. I've just never really cared. I mean, I think about it, I guess? But not even in a sexy way."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean... like I wanna experience how it works, but like... without actually fucking someone. Is that weird?"
Gaz laughs, but there's no judgement behind it. He can understand the curiosity, and has never been one to shy away from an 'experiment.' "I can help with that. If you want."
You snicker. "You just want me to touch you." He flounders in response, but doesn't deny it.
"All I'm saying is that I'd feel safe with you, even if yer just prodding my dick for research purposes."
"Right. I might be able to pencil you in."
"I've got a pencil to put in you--"
"Shut the fuck up."
Soap: (Established Relationship, makeing out)
Lazy mornings are the best. No work, no expectations; just you and your favorite person snuggled together under fresh sheets and basking in the gentle glow of the early morning sun. It's far too early to be awake on a weekend, yet you and Soap find yourselves lovingly gazing at each other, sharing little kitten kisses here and there.
"Yer so bonnie, lovie," he murmurs in that raspy morning voice of his. "All mine, too."
His hands wander down your back and sides then up again. The gentle caress is nearly enough to lull you back to sleep. He brings you closer, then his hands find their way down to your ass and thighs, hidden behind the joggers you wore to bed.
"My pretty thing..."
His voice fades as he captures your lips once more. You follow his lead, lips parting to make room for his tongue to explore your mouth and pull sleepy yet satisfied sighs from you. His hand slips past your waistband and nearly reaches your front when you jolt. The sudden movement alarms the Scot and he pulls back.
"Sorry, too much?"
"No, no, sorry," you chuckle, a little embarrassed. "I've never... done anything before."
He blinks, almost in disbelief, but doesn't let it linger. "Oh. Tha's perfectly fine, bon. Nae shame in it."
Relief washes over you. You'd be lying if you said you weren't expecting some light teasing, he's usually cheeky like that. You could handle it of course, but sex is a vulnerability that doesn't need that kind of attention.
"We don't have ta do anythin' more if yer no' ready," he assures, then his smile grows more playful. "More than happy to lay out the candles and rose petals if ye prefer."
You giggle, hands cupping his cheeks to place a kiss on the tip of his nose. "I mean... I'm interested~ And you know you're always welcome to buy me flowers."
"Aye, I will." He peppers kisses from your cheeks down to your neck and collar. "Any ones ye want. An' I promise to be gentle."
Ghost: (Established Relationship)
You and Ghost had been going strong for a few months. Sex hasn't been discussed or initiated between you two at all. Literally. Kissing didn't go further than a little making out and touching never drifted below the belt. You figured he was just being respectful and waiting for you to tell him when you wanted more.
So, you took it upon yourself to sit him down one night to talk about it. At first, Ghost genuinely thinks he's in trouble -- mainly because the text he got from you as he was leaving base was simply "can we talk about something important when you get home?"
He drops by your favorite restaurant for takeout and that late night cookie spot you like as a preemptive apology for whatever he did wrong. The food and his nervous demeanor surprise you, but once you get talking, Ghost relaxes almost instantly.
"We've been together a while, and I figure we're going to be getting more physical soon," You start, picking at your food. "I just wanted to be open and honest, and let you know I've never had sex. I trust you, and I'm happy to have my first time with you. I just wanted you to know in case you had any expectations I don't meet."
His eyes soften the more you spoke. He'd never set any expectations of you, especially not like that, but he understood your worry. "That's alright, love. Doesn't bother me none."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," he assures. "I'd be a bloody hypocrite if I did."
Your brows furrow. "What do you mean?"
"I've never had sex either."
Your knee jerk reaction is to be surprised, but given his past, it kind of makes sense. He's been through so much that sex was the last thing on his mind. Between his father, Roba, and the 141, physical intimacy just never took priority.
"Awe... we get to be each other's firsts. That's kinda sweet."
Ghost shrugs, never having understood why virginity is seen as an equal to innocence. But if you like the idea of sharing that special first time together, he's not going to burst your bubble. Plus, he think's it's cute that you're already planning on being soft with him.
Gaz x Reader, past!Johnny x F!Reader, 1387 count, T
summary: dating again, thinking about your future, you never thought you'd get there.
content: trying to let love in with past cheating, former no comfort, Reader's working on themself
previous | forward
Two months of coffee, lunch, and the occasional breakfast date. And texting when you can, trying to check but admittedly you found yourself out of practice. It made you smile that he wished you a good morning every day, but you still forgot some days to return the message. When you see a cat on the street on your evening walk through the neighbor hood, you send pause to send him a picture.
You find you really like Kyle, well, you really like parts of Kyle that you can resonate with — busy guy, career taking priority, habits that he's working on trying to cut back on. He's funny, and smart, and kind. Everything you could possibly want, there's Kyle. But you also have a bit of a problem opening up about yourself, you're realizing.
It's hard to figure out where the lines are. Where you want them to be. And how much you want to lay on the table.
It was easiest to start with the truth. So you tell him your last relationship was pretty serious but it didn't end well. You tended to focus on your career, but you'd had an amazing four year focus, with a recent breakthrough that made everything feel like you'd made the right choice. No family to speak of but very close friends that fill that role in your life, have for years.
And Kyle listens, understands a lot of what you say, hand warm on top of yours when you let that sit at the admission. There's no judgment, and… that that's what you really like about Kyle. Your face burns when he leans in to kiss you after your latest date, but you don't shy away, letting yourself lean in.
His beautiful brown eyes on you as you pull away make you want to fall into them. Dark and warm and you almost ask him back to yours.
Almost.
(Nothing you've said is a lie, not outright. It's not that you don't want to tell him about Colin, but your son is solely yours. No reason to bring him up with a man who you saw sometimes. He wouldn't understand why your new friend disappeared if this didn't work out. You don't know how to share him, not really, and you're not ready to try with anyone who hasn't been there from the start.)
The results coming back from your sister labs are positive. Almost one-for-one, which was… promising. And you definitely hadn't been tossing and turning for the week since their last update.
You tell Aisling first, a longer than you'd meant paragraph that you slammed with a send before you could back down and not tell your friend how relieved you were, to forget to share the good. Your brain felt a little clearer, it was nice to remember that you deserved to relax.
Maybe you'd finally ask about checking out that new restaurant. The menu looked just as good as you remembered, calling to you.
Seeing the notification, you send the link first, and there's a giddiness as she immediately begins to type.
Sounds good. What would you think of dinner? I'm back in town.
And the proper grammar and punctuation makes you snort. Obviously. What was better than take out and Ghibli.
But a notification catches your attention, hoping it was nothing serious as you open the message.
You, me, our son pizza????
And it does take you a moment, blinking at your phone as it settles on you. That you'd just opened the message with your word vomit that had ended in a crying emoji and a heart. What you'd sent her.
You take yourself back to your messages. Kyle's name just below hers.
Dinner.
You'd never live this down, and worse because… well, because you really wouldn't mind getting dinner with him. You almost feel a little silly as you ask if actually would she be willing to babysit, yes it was short notice, but he liked Thai food.
Which was very promising.
You can practically hear her fingers clacking on her screen as her reply appears.
PLEASE TELL ME its dinner with handsome Mr Garrick?? If you dont ill never talk to you again
So your choice was made for you.
You type out and erase your response, before finally settling on.
Sounds good. Meet you there at 6?
Was that too early? You didn't know anymore.
But his response is instantaneous.
I'll wear a red carnation.
Why did his words always make you feel like a schoolchild with their first crush? It wasn't the first time you'd had dinner with someone you were seeing casually. But Kyle was , well Kyle. Not too intense, not disinterested, nothing like-
You don't like thinking about him.
Especially now that you've got a date to get ready for. You weren't going to ruin your mood thinking about him, them, it, him.
Your nail catches as you slam your car door, finally making your way into your home.
Okay, so you had to file those down now. Was it too late to paint them?
You had dinner to get ready for.
He wants a puppy.
Your darling, baby boy — light of your life — wanted a puppy, and you know damn well you don't have the psychological, emotionally, or physical fortitude to care for one the way it deserves right now. But saying that would break his heart, and you weren't going to start that this early.
It wasn't all because Aisling's neighbor had gotten one, and his children were around Colin's age and played with him not infrequently when he was over. Which was usually a gift.
And now you were listening to him happily tell you all about what the admittedly very cute puppy had been up to — damn Ash for taking pictures.
You could not bring a little dog who needed potty training and attention and toys and love, sure you had the love but the time? No. You could not do that to a puppy.
You refused.
Not that you were going to say that, tonight especially.
So you listen to his happy chatter, fighting your smile as you carefully applied eyeliner.
Still, you don't tell him you'll get one. Not today. You let him tell you how much he loves Cú. And maybe, maybe, one day you would have a dog too maybe.
That one was hard to say no to. You didn't like lying to him, but you expected your idea of one day and his idea of that time were very different.
When Ash gets back on the phone you try to admonish her, but it's hard staring at the picture of your boy and the handsome poodle. You can hear the smile in her voice when she asks for a selfie, because if she couldn't be there in person, damn if she wasn't going to start gassing you up now.
Damn, you looked good.
Kyle's already got a table when you arrive, smile spreading across his face when he spots you and standing to greet you. His kiss lands on the corner of your mouth, and you can't help the smile that tugs at your lips.
When you take your seat across from him, a waitress appears, glasses filled with water before two additional drinks are set down.
"Hope you don't mind, I ordered some specials," he smiles as he turns his attention back to you after thanking her.
A sex on the beach.
You stare at the cocktail in front of you, stomach twisting uncomfortably as if you'd just run into an old best friend on the street, but you force a smile, ignoring the dryness of your mouth. "Thank you, but, I, uh, I don't, uh, sorry, wasn't planning on drinking."
So what if you had, prepared to look at the wine menu and maybe split a bottle.
You didn't want to explain that it used to be your favorite. That you'd met your ex ordering one.
Johnny'd always laughed, offered to take you outside.
The father of your son who'd fucked your sister. In your condo. On your bed.
There's a flash of worry on Kyle's face as he quickly apologizes. "I'm sorry, luv. I didn't mean anything, I should have asked."
-> contents :: death described + mentioned in different ways ,, somewhat cult like activites mentioned ,, different stages of death (bc i am a mort student) mentioned ,, military inaccuracies ,, mentions of eating flesh and enemies
-> word count :: 4k
-> an :: ty for the wait and being patient :D !! sorry for the descriptions with death ,, im a mort science student so rlly im just writing what ive learned so far 😞🫣 theres more hints at reader’s past + what they are :) good luck taking any guesses hehe ,, also not sure if it should just end there or if it should continue with the story 🫣
You remember the first time you enlisted in the army. The strange looks from your platoon mates and how you never truly got in trouble with your drill sergeant. How different military systems have grown throughout history, and yet they still had some appeal to your curiosity on how people work and function.
You've seen your bunkmates get scolded often by the drill sergeant, how often those around you got on his nerves.
You just hoped your disguise would hold up.
It was definitely hard at first, having to force down the cuisine they offered and learn to adapt to having to fit in. You were lucky to get at least one good friend during your time, even if he did have a loud mouth and couldn't keep a secret.
It wasn't everyday someone came up to where you sat and confront you, quite loudly, about your lack of eating in front of everyone. Your eyes narrowed at the man, muttering a small excuse that he didn't buy at all. From that day on, he sat next to you and watched as you ate.
He would complain if you didn't eat enough, saying you needed the food and nutrients for training later. Not that you actually needed it, as your diet didn't compose of what the earth provided. Your tastes were far different, more akin to that of a creature from a horror movie.
It would be stupid to give up your act now. You just had to make it through training, and hope that it would land you somewhere in the field. Anywhere, even though active warfare wasn't something that always happened in the U.S. military, it didn't mean it wasn't happening at all.
You'd heard the stories from your time spent moseying through the morgues, the cries of stories shared at funerals of military personnel. Their bravery during different areas they were stationed at, making it through shrapnel and gunshot wounds.
It seemed like a better place to find food rather than your usual scuttering around the world. Different disguises and false names, ones you've come to forget as the years pass and the world around you grew. You remember how easy it was for criminals to get away with crime due to the lack of surveillance, and now there were cameras at every turn.
It wouldn't take long to be spotted for your gathering methods, your only way of getting food. The military was simply a different method you were testing to see if it would work. If it did, it would make the following years easier.
Besides, it's not as though you were planning to fatten yourself up on human flesh.
Those days in the platoon were memorable, a few earning a very rare chuckle from your lips. Could you truly call them yours though?
Your friend made during training, who had moved on to a new rank, made it far in his new career. You remember his family coming to 'tap' him out of position when he graduated from training. How happy they were for him, and the proud look on his face.
You almost craved it, knowing that there was someone waiting for you. Yet, no one was. You stood, all while the others around you left. Your expression didn't falter, keeping a blank and desolate face in front of everyone else until the drill sergeant you've grown to like came up.
His face was one of pity, yet he didn't say anything as he tapped your shoulder and told you to follow him.
When it came time to serve, you were more than ready. Your new sergeant wasn't as nice as the drill sergeant in your training. He was rougher, harsher, and didn't care about what you had to say for yourself when you gave some of your MRE to another soldier.
He chastised your every move, eyes calculating and voice gruff as he spat words in your face. It didn't matter, you've heard worse said, and not even from humans.
A few of your mates gave you pitiful looks, but they didn't speak up against their sergeant. It didn't matter how well you did in the field, how sharp your aim was or how well you crawled through the thick mud. It seemed as though your sergeant didn't appreciate anything you did. He always found a reason to growl an insult at you.
He didn't even listen when you warned him of a sniper on the other side of the mountainous reign. He only scoffed, and that was the last noise he ever made before he was shot down from the other side.
That was the first time you felt the bile crawl in your stomach, a reminder that you failed your duty.
Even if he wasn't the best human, you should've done more to prevent the blood from spattering against the grass and his body hitting the ground. He didn't struggle as much against death, his eyes blinking a few times before they finally stilled. You could see the algor mortis take place around an hour into his death, the other soldiers calling over and over to a higher command to get their sergeant's body.
When you served again, you were a corporal and had earned your rank through a few more rigorous years and help on the field. You found your friend from training in your new squad, almost at ease upon seeing him still alive. At least he was there.
You would do better this time around, you would protect him from the harsh reality of the other side. You wouldn't allow him to meet the same fate as your past sergeant, wouldn't allow him to die in the field. He deserved to grow old and be cherished by his family, by his spouse and surrounded by children.
Yet, fate wasn't always on your side. It seemed from the first moment you made your appearance on this earth, fate had other plans for you. Everything you grew to love and cherish had died. The ones who worshipped and loved you the most, who fed you often and in return you protected them from the dangers of the world, had been killed by its hand.
Not too long into your new site, into the field and under the hot sun, had he been killed. There were too many enemies, and not enough soldiers on your side. Arround you, soldiers started dropping like flies. Higher command had started to panic, trying to keep their tone steady as they barked orders to keep heads down and weapons up.
You should've died with the rest of them. It would've been easier to explain to the next chain of command that came to retrieve the bodies of their fallen. How were they supposed to believe you alone took out the rest of the enemy?
You've never seen as many body bags as that day. Decomposition had already started, rigor mortis making it difficult for some of the men to move soldiers into the bags. The heat didn't help either, and you tried your best to keep them in the shade.
At least you had somewhat of a feast whilst you waited for the planes to arrive. The flesh you feasted upon would last you for longer than before, your last true meal had been a few years earlier.
It felt wrong to eat them, you didn't deserve it. You failed to protect once again.
The first time you met the task force, you were intrigued. You'd been around high ranked individuals of different professions, and yet this would be the first time you would meet those of the military. Their faces were hardened, postures straightened as you walked into the meeting room.
Only a week ago you had met Mrs. Laswell, unsure as to what it was that made her consider you a prime candidate for this team. There was nothing on your record, that you made sure of. At least, you assumed there wasn't.
Little did you know, however, was that one of the missions in the past raised a flag red enough to land you under a different supervision. From there, they observed your abilities to test whether or not you'd be capable. Which led to a week later, sitting across from this british task force meant for more dangerous and private operations.
"It's nice to meet you," you gave a small, forced smile to them all. Even through these years of being around humans, you still weren't able to fully mimic their emotions and mannerisms.
They didn't smile back as much, except for one with a estranged haircut. One you've seen time to time from those wandering on the streets in America.
From there, you were slowly accepted into their team. They were closer to each other than you would ever be. You'd rather keep it that way. They were trained to notice the unknown, the unfamiliar. The last thing you needed was them to raise one too many suspicions about who you were.
You knew the Lieutenant Ghost was already aware of your unfamiliar mannerisms. As hard as you tried to fit in with humans, there were still things you didn't pick up on.
You didn't think it strange when they asked about your habit of not eating, at least with them.
"Why don't you eat with us?" One of them asked, to which you waved your hand at him. "I ate earlier, don't worry about it."
Every time, it held up enough for them to believe, mostly at least. Your stamina in training made it even more believable, to the point where they stopped asking questions.
You didn't try to stand out, keeping your pace average to the sergeants around you. If you beat their time, it would only lead to questions. Ones you'd rather not have to answer.
Even through the suspicious nature they all shared about you, they eventually let you come around. They grew comfortable, letting themselves slip into an ease of routine around you, even Lieutenant Ghost dropped most of his guard.
Soap started to invite you to the pub with them on days they returned from harsh missions. You never drank anything there, claiming you had no interest in alcohol and had other means of relieving the ache most soldiers in the military felt. Except, it was a lie. You didn't partake in humans habit of smoking or inhaling vapors, nor would you indulge in the alcholic beverages they created. Drug usage was of little importance to you.
As long as you were able to fill your belly of human flesh every now and then, you'd be perfectly fine.
Which made you sloppy the next time around. You hadn't ate for a while, and your stomach was pulling at itself. The pain was bareable, nothing you weren't used to. Even then, human's pain meant little to nothing to you. You've experienced far worse from the other creatures that lurk in the universe.
The next mission arrived, and there were more than a few enemies dead that your teammates wouldn't bat an eye at if they happened to go missing suddenly. You allowed yourself to indulge, perhaps a little too much.
When they called your name over the radio, your senses sparked back into play. The blood was thick on your hands, and yet the flesh in your mouth tasted better than anything a michelin restuarant could cook up.
The blood dripped down your chin, quickly wiping the red liquid away and hurrying to your feet. You didn't take into account how stained your uniform was when you returned to Captain Price and Sergeant Gaz.
"Bloody hell, did you take a hit?" Gaz asked, hurrying over to your form with his eyes narrowed at where the blood stained the abdominal section of your uniform.
"Ah, uh.. one of them grabbed my ankle and tried to take a knife to me. It's alright, promise." Captain Price didn't say anything at that, only giving your form a glance down before trailing his eyes back up and barking an order to be more careful next time.
Gaz didn't let the worry leave his eyes, yet he stayed by your side for the rest of the mission.
“Just watching your six," he said when you asked.
It felt nice, to finally be apart of something once again. Memories of your past would flood your thoughts at night, sleep never coming. Why would you need to sleep? There was no need, your true body is in a state of sleep most the time.
This form didn't need to sleep, you only needed it to continue your days on this planet. Living the years in a meaningless timeline, waiting out the day it felt right to truly awaken your body and leave the planet. Yet, that would possibly resolve in the destruction of some part of the earth.
You're sure you've grown in your time laying dormant, the flesh you've eaten amongst the thousands of years starting to add up over time. Your power would be strong, and you would be able to find a new life form to protect.
You regret not protecting all those before you, and you swore you'd do better this time with humanity. And yet, every time you try to protect, you ended up failing.
The last thing you saw before everything went dark was the glare in Ghost's eyes. The grass felt itchy against your hands, crawling on your stomach through the field. You were close to where Ghost was, nearing the edge of the forest line before foreign language filled your ears. The bang that radiated through the field was enough to make anyone's blood run cold.
It was hard to reconnect with your body, separated from reality in the meantime. This was a major mess up on your end, and you weren't even sure how to fix this mishap. 'Dying' in front of your supposed higher up won't be easy to clear up.
The profile you finally worked hard enough to curate for yourself was now diminished to nothing. Your hard work of fitting in alongside your fellow soldiers was gone, and so was your status. It would be unlikely you'd be able to list again, which made it even harder to find a new identity.
You've gone through the process many times, creating a fake persona to live as until something happened. Different aliases you've gone by to ease your way through life.
Your hunger was growing, having not ate for a while. The last time you were truly able to eat had been a few months before you joined the taskforce. You'd managed to slip away undetected from your team, feasting on the remains on some unknown enemy soldier.
What little was appetizing enough had sustained you for the next few months. You didn't have to eat often, but with the energy it took into the false body you wore, your hunger grew quicker than usual. The training you had been put through didn't help that fact either.
It'd be times like these when your control was separated from the body you wore, left with your true self to reflect on the past. How easily food came to you, with those who worshipped you leaving offerings. You fattened up on their dead, and offered protection instead.
How you failed to do such an easy thing. Stories and hymns passed through generations, a whole society based on your being only to be wiped away from something even you couldn't protect them from.
You'd failed your duty, failed at protecting them.
You'd grown since then, taking up a fake name and body to fit in with the times moving forward. The old earth you grew to love and cherish had been changed into one that was cold and unforgiving. You could easily move on, find somewhere else to lay dormant and feed upon whatever lifeform that was offered. Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to remove yourself from the planet.
Too many memories, too attached to the human race despite how often they've proved unworthy. Little moments on the planet has been the delay of your presence leaving. You'd almost feel as if you were abandoning them if you were to leave.
The others would surely detest your sentiment towards the planet.
It wouldn't matter. You couldn't care less of what they thought, their actions fueled by the hunger they bare and the power they craved to hold over those who were lesser than them.
Simon had seen death often, especially of those close to him. His family had been more than example enough of how cruel humanity can become. How easy it was to lose everything in an instance. And yet, it didn't make it any easier when the barel of the gun was pointed at your head, the way your body slumped to the ground.
It wouldn't be till later that your body had been retrieved, eyes dull and mouth agape. Algor mortis was already taking place in your body, and rigor was slowly working its way. He almost felt sick feeling how stiff your arms were, how cold your skin was against his gloved hands.
He wondered if there was something different that he could've done. If only you were ahead of him then maybe this wouldn't have happened.
It didn't matter how short your time was spent in the task force, you were still one of them. Still one of the soldiers under his command, and he'd let you die under his watch.
Simon couldn't care how weird you seemed now. Every little thing he noted about you seemed insignificant to your death now. He's seen how the mood around base has dimmed since then. Soap wasn't as lively, and even when he was it wasn't the same.
Price had gone through the paperwork for your death. Your file had no family to contact, nobody to reach out to. With Price being your superior in the army, he'd flown to the United States to sign the papers needed. The other members tagged along, as though it was the right thing to do.
If you didn't have a family to care for you, they would stand in their place.
Price's meeting with the coroner only ended with confusion. Nothing made sense to him, and it sure didn't make sense to the coroner either. He'd almost accused them of playing in his face, telling him lies when they announced your body had been dead for years.
That was impossible, there wasn't any possible explanation for that. He'd seen you alive and well just a week ago.
Yet, the readings on the machines and obvious signs of decay underneath the skin. The coroner wanted an autopsy done, to search for any answers. He should've agreed, and yet he didn't. He wasn't sure why, but he denied the autopsy and asked for a cremation to be done.
There wouldn't be a funeral, just a tossing of ashes where you had been born. He already contacted the appropriate authoritative figures to arrange for such, to allow them to spread your ashes where it would matter the most to you.
Everything would go back to normal after that. At least, that's what he told himself until he got a call in the middle of the night from the funeral home your body resided at.
They had notified him of your lost body, searching everywhere throughout the home and looking through documents and paperwork to find you.
Security cameras in the area didn't help either, with one of them being unavailable during the time of your disappearance.
It didn't take long for you to re-establish your connection with your body, your control growing once again. The air was cold and crisp. Chemicals were prevalent, their stench staining the air you breathed. They thought you were dead, must have assumed so. It wouldn't be your first visit in the morgue.
Your hands traced your body for any sutures made, any sign of incisions made. Only one was found, along your arm. It had been stitched up nicely and fixed, yet no other incisions were made. Nothing to hint at people finding something they weren't meant to.
How lucky you were. Your identity still had some secrecy to it.
It wasn't easy escaping the funeral home. The freezer room camera was already faulty enough for you to alter its recording, but slipping by the workers would be harder.
Not to mention the panic that would arise from a missing body suddenly gone from their care. It would be a stain in their reputation, and impossible to explain.
You had to pull yourself together, create a new identity once again. Your plan in the military worked, and no one batted an eye if an enemy's body had gone missing. It was too good to pass up again, and with the money you've earned during the years you could fix yourself a new fake identity that will place you somewhere better.
Yes, it could work. As long as you didn't see anyone from the past few years, you would be fine.
Even months later, your death and disappearance didn't sit right with the task force. Ghost should've done more to help you, yet dwelling on the past never worked in his favor. His finger traced the rim of the glass he was nursing, Johnny was already shitfaced as he worked his way up to another shot.
Gaz was beside him, laughing in content to Johnny's slurring jokes and quick rebuttals. Price hadn't spoke much, eyes dancing around the pub every so often before snapping back over to his team.
Ghost shot him a look, silently asking what it was.
Price only coughed into his hand and tilted his head in a direction, Ghost's eyes following to where Price was looking beforehand.
Sat in a booth was a familiar figure, suit wrinkle free and hat doing little to hide your face. You knew you'd been spotted long before they had sat down on the other side of the pub. You shouldn't have even shown up, shouldn't have shown your face in Britain alone.
Yet you had to know. Did they make it out? Were they okay? Did they die alongside your past self?
You should have left when they showed up in the pub, should have become scarce from the area. Yet you stayed, feeling selfish and using the excuse that you wanted to make sure it was them.
You smiled at Soap's jokes and teases, savoring Gaz's smile. Ghost and Price seemed to enjoy themselves, at least from your viewpoint. You knew Price had spotted you almost instantly from the moment he entered.
Nothing got past your past captain, after all. It was what made him so capable, as a leader outside and in the field.
When Ghost's eyes met yours, you nearly froze on the spot. You needed to leave now, or else they would start asking questions about your sudden appearance. You knew them enough to be wary of these things, especially since you were shown as dead in front of them.
With one last sip of the burning alcohol in the tiny glass, you payed and hurried your way to the door.
The air was damp from the fresh rain that had poured not long ago. They were behind you, you knew of it. At least, one of them was.
"Excuse me, but do I know you?" A hand clasped on your shoulder. You could smell the cigarette stench already, it wouldn't be easy to slip past Captain Price of all people. You gave a short shake of your head, "I don't think so." Was all you said, and shrugged his hand off.
Surprisingly, he let you walk ahead and didn't pursue. You were only focused on escaping this situation, hurrying to your hotel. Besides, you needed to be ready for tommorow. You would meet your new team, a certain private military company that operated in Europe.
꒱ ♡ ₊˚‧long distance longing- a gaz x reader fic ‧˚₊♡꒱
despite being surrounded by his team and some new friends, despite celebrating a successful operation, he only wants you.
Contents: afab reader, lil bit of dirty talk, almost phone sex, takes place right after the events of MW2 (NOT canon compliant, 141 fucked off back to Mexico so they could chill with Alejandro and the rest of LV instead of the bar scene happening directly after the last mission, just go with it)
Word Count: 2.8k+
MDNI! Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked!
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You were halfway to being passed out. Your hand rested in the bowl of leftover Halloween candy, still clutching an empty wrapper. The movie you were no longer paying attention to droned on in the background. The living room was bathed a muted purple from the Halloween lights you hadn’t taken down yet and sleep sounded divine. But before you could truly drift off to sleep, your phone rang and your eyes snapped open.
It’s three a.m… Who in the fuck… With a tired groan, you grabbed your phone off of the coffee table and glared at the screen.
Under any other circumstance you would've cursed the name of the caller and ignored it, however your screen displayed the name of your roommate and best friend who you haven’t seen or heard from in a week now… Kyle.
Well, 'best friend with benefits' might be a more apt term for what your relationship turned into over the past year. You’ve known each other since your early teen years, so you and Kyle knew basically everything about each other. Your favorite foods and drinks, pet peeves and phobias, turn-ons and turn-offs… And over the years, your bond strengthened into something unbreakable, something that made living together feel like the most obvious choice for both of you.
It's been a week since he left for an important operation, and you could only assume it's over from the text he sent you yesterday with two photos. The first one was the view from a plane window, a sea of clouds just below the wing of the aircraft. The second made you smile since it was proof that Kyle was alive and well, a photo of him leaning back in his seat, his iconic blue hat missing and a tired smile on his face. The message attached read:
done and dusted, see you in a few days ✌🏿
And when you asked when he'd be back, his response was simply:
whenever we stop celebrating lol
I'll let you know, headed back to Mexico for a couple of days
Right... Mexico. He mentioned something about assisting the Special Forces there. You figured that he'd probably just enjoy himself and forget to call, maybe hook up with someone or multiple someones... Which would mean hooking up with someone other than you for the first time in probably a year or two... Which is fine since you're not exclusive.
It wouldn't feel right to let him go to voicemail and you did miss hearing his voice, so you answered the call on the third ring.
"What's up, Ky?" You tried to sound nonchalant and not like you were dying to hear his voice... Even if the anticipation was killing you now.
There were voices on the other end before someone shushed the voices... The voices quieted down ever so slightly before Kyle's voice came through clearly.
"Hey, wasn't sure if you were even awake," he said, and you could just hear the smile in his voice. You could imagine it as clear as day, but you wanted to actually see it more than anything. "So, have you completely lost your mind to loneliness yet? Has my absence driven you mad?"
You snorted softly and stood from the couch, placed the bowl of candy on the coffee table before you began to pace a bit. "Oh yeah, I couldn't take it," you mused sarcastically, a soft chuckle followed your words. "So I invited some of the neighbors over, told them to bring anyone and everyone that they knew... The house is trashed."
"Oh yeah? Did you invite... What's that cabrón's name again? Caden, Haden..." He teased, laughing when you muttered 'fuck off' quietly.
"Aiden, and why are you still hung up on him? I have him blocked, like, everywhere." You rolled your eyes and paced to the windows, turning the purple lights off. As much as you hated reminders of your shitty ex, Kyle hated him even more. "And cabrón...?"
"I'm 'still hung up' on that pendejo because he made you cry... And he stole my leftovers that one time. But hey, I trust that you didn't invite that thing over again." Voices faded in the background and returned occasionally, which probably meant that Kyle was pacing too, avoiding bumping into his mates. "Anyway, the Colonel promised to teach me some Mexican curse words. I was just putting them to good use."
"So what I'm hearing is that your new buddies are bad influences? That's it, get your ass back home now, Garrick." Your teasing got another laugh out of Kyle, so you doubled down. "I mean it, tell your little friends that you gotta go, you're in big trouble."
"Oh, am I now?" He asked, his voice dropped slightly. Something dangerously close to the sultry purr he used whenever you two were in bed. "You got a punishment in mind for me when I get back?"
"I might... Why, do you want to hear what I'd do to you? Because I have some ideas." Your pacing led you down the hall and right to the space between yours and Kyle's doors. You stopped between them, shifting on your feet slightly... Contemplating.
The line went quiet for a moment, save for the muffled overlap of voices. Kyle's voice joined them as the voices grew closer, and you caught "room" and "privacy".
"Oh, you need some alone time with tu chica?" Teased a voice you didn't recognize, but it was the first voice you could actually make out. A raspy, accented voice that might've belonged to the colonel. "Upstairs, second room on the left... Don't make a mess, comprendido?" Snickers and a few "ooooh"'s followed his remark.
"Understood, Al," he said, sounding like he was trying not to laugh himself. "Gracias, hermano."
As other voices told Kyle to get some rest and ribbed him, and you made up your mind. Instead of going into your own bedroom, you wandered into the room right next to yours.
Your bedrooms had become basically interchangeable since you started hooking up, but the distinction remained. Personal items and clothes in your respective rooms, the more neat setup of his room versus your organized mess. Though more than anything, Kyle's room still smelled like him. It was getting fainter by the day but it still lingered. His bed was still made, though there were some wrinkles and the blanket was slightly askew from when you flopped onto it after the trick-or-treaters stopped coming to the door.
A door clicked shut on the other end and Kyle spoke up once again. "Sorry about that, I didn't need the guys overhearing," he said as you crossed over to his bed. "Where were we, then? You were going to tell me what you'd do if I was there?"
A snort of a laugh left you as you shook your head slightly in disbelief. You were kidding, just teasing him... Probably. Honestly, there were a few times where jokes and teasing turned into something more with you two. It was a paper thin line and you couldn't even tell if he was serious now.
"Maybe I didn't have anything planned," you said as you settled on his bed. "What're you doing right now? Or what were you doing... Did you eat, have something to drink? You should probably go back to the guys."
"Listen, I love the guys but I think I've had enough for tonight," he replied, and a quiet creak followed his words. "Had a few shots, the colonel made a killer carne asada and taught me some things..."
"Bad influence," you muttered.
"Shh, he's educating me just in case," Kyle said, sounding like he was trying not to laugh. "And the asada was good, but... I think there's something else I'd rather eat." The sinful purr was back in his voice, and a familiar heat began to spread through you.
You decided to play dumb as you laid back against his pillows. "Oh yeah...? Maybe you should go back downstairs, see if they have anything for dessert."
"Mm-mm, no... They don't have what I want," he took a deep breath and you heard another shift. "What're you doing right now?"
"I figured that the couch wasn't a good place to fall asleep, so I'm just lying in bed now," you said as you rested your free hand on your stomach. "Your bed... Hope you don't mind."
"Fuck, of course you are..." Kyle said with an amused huff. "And I bet you're wearing my clothes too, right?"
"You know me too well, Kyle."
You gazed down at your hand, which rested against the fabric of one of his old shirts... One that he didn't wash before leaving for the operation. Your scent was slowly replacing his, but it still lingered enough for you to still wear it.
"It's the dark blue tee, the one you got from the aquarium and said you wouldn't be caught dead wearing in public." Which was true, he relegated the shirt to be a pajama top due to the goofy, cartoonish shark on the front.
"Yeah? It always looked better on you anyway," he teased. "What else... Did you steal my pajama pants too?"
"Nope. No pants..." You could hear his breath hitch slightly, so you decided to give him a bit more. Slowly, your hand crept further down to the hem of the oversized shirt. "Just my panties, the black ones with the lace trim..." As you spoke in a sultry voice that was just above a whisper, your fingers slid over the lacy waistband in question.
"Fucking love those ones... Easy to just pull them to the side," he said in a strained voice, and the tormented tone of his words made heat bloom between your legs. "I wish I was there so I could..."
He trailed off, and your fingers made slow circles over your clothed sex. You were hanging on his every word just like you always had. Even if he was talking about the most mundane thing... You just loved his voice. Even more so when he was about to tell you what he'd do to you.
"Could... Fuck me? Taste me? Make me scream your name?" You prompted, a sigh left you as you applied some pressure to your most sensitive part. "Tell me, Kyle."
There was another moment of hesitation before Kyle let out a long exhale. Your hand froze completely, because that didn't sound like a breathless sigh of arousal. He sounded tired, maybe even frustrated as he finally spoke.
"Honestly... If I was there right now, if I walked into my bedroom and saw you on my bed in my clothes I'd..." Kyle said in the same low voice from before, there was no longer a suggestive purr present. You heard in real time as it vanished from his words. He huffed out a laugh, though there was no humor to it. Was he nervous? "Uh... Neverm-- Look, I think I'm just tired and not thinking straight. What would you want me to do...?"
Those were not the confident words that he usually used in these situations, he sounded unsure and it bothered you to your core. Your brow furrowed slightly as you sat up, the hand that was once between your legs instead rested on the bed. Idly, your fingers rubbed against his blanket.
"Hey... What's on your mind, Ky?"
"Nothin--"
"And don't say 'nothing', because that's bullshit," you swiftly interjected. "Just talk to me. We don't have to... We don't have to make it a sex thing if you're not feeling it right now."
There was a sound on the other end that sounded like sheets rustling, or like something just flopped down onto something soft. "Okay... If I was there, you know what I'd really do right now?" He asked, but didn't wait for an answer. "I'd just wanna hold you. I would hold you and not let go, I'd put my head on your chest just to hear your heartbeat."
There was heat blooming inside of you once again, but it was unlike heat from before. Something softer yet more intense, fluttering in your stomach and a jump in your pulse. As much as Kyle turned you on, he did an excellent job of making you question what you truly saw him as at times.
"Is it because of the mission...?" You knew that sometimes he'd come home unable to relay too much, but you knew when he needed space and tenderness instead of what you two normally did.
For a moment his voice was muffled, as if he was scrubbing a hand down his face... Or burying it into a pillow. "A lot of shit happened and I just need to touch you to know we're both alive. But I've wanted to do that for a while, I've wanted to just fall asleep with you in my arms."
"You've done that before, though," you reminded him. Whenever you two hooked up, it ended with spooning or just lying in bed together. He's absolutely held you while you both slept before.
"No, I mean just holding you. No sex beforehand, nothing like that," he explained quietly. "I miss you, you know...? I always do, but lately it's just been... Fuck, it's been getting worse and I don't know what to do."
Your heart ached for him, and you knew exactly how he felt. It had been a year since your last exclusive partner (goddamn Aiden)... And probably two years for him. Most of his dates were one-offs and he never slept with any of them. Part of you cheered for that fact, and you always felt weird about it... Maybe a little guilty for wanting him for yourself. But you two... You're not exclusive, you never discussed being exclusive. Just BFWB, just roommates, just the closest two people could be without being in love.
But what if you... What if he... Oh. It was a realization you might've already had a while ago, but snuffed out and forced yourself to forget whenever it reared it's head.
The possibility of you being in love with Kyle was very real, and you knew it was more than a possibility.
Kyle was seemingly collecting himself on his end, and you took a deep breath before talking again.
"Alright, if you were here right now... Do you know what I'd do?" You asked softly.
"Huh...?"
"I'd let you hold me for as long as you want to," you began, shifting slightly on the bed so you could fully lie down with your head on his pillow, letting what was left of his faint scent fill your senses. "And while you were resting on my chest, I'd cradle your head and kiss your forehead. Keep you there 'till we both fell asleep."
A soft, muffled laugh came through and you smiled softly. That was the kind of laugh you wanted to hear. "Oh, yeah? God, tell me more..." His voice was that of a tired but happy man.
"I'd let you spoon me... I'd spoon you if you wanted me to," you said with a soft chuckle. "And we'd fall asleep to an old, corny horror movie since you weren't here for Halloween..."
"That's it... I'm telling the lads that I have to go first thing in the morning." Despite the laugh that followed his words, you could tell he was pretty serious. "I need all of that as soon as possible, you have no idea."
"I need it too, babe," you said before realizing what you said exactly. Babe? You never called him that, and he definitely noticed because he inhaled sharply. "Kyle... Ky, I mean..."
"Nope. New plan," he said, and the sound of fabric shifting told you that he probably sat up suddenly. "I'm telling them now and seeing if Al can get me a flight over..."
"Kyle! No, no, you lie back down and get some rest!" You laughed, rolling onto your side. "I mean it... You need sleep. I'll be here when you get home, I'm not going anywhere."
"...Promise?" He asked as he stopped moving.
"I swear... I'll be at the airport for you, then we can do everything we talked about when we get back home. Alright?"
"Alright... Fine," he agreed as he laid back down, sounding like he rolled onto his side too. "But could you just stay on the line...? Talk to me until we both pass the fuck out, just talk about whatever."
"Alright... So, I didn't actually host a party... Pretty sure you figured that out," you began before delving into the neighborhood gossip that he missed, everything that happened at your job since he left, and the events of Halloween night.
You talked until his breathing evened out, and you kept talking until you couldn't anymore. His breathing lulled you into the best sleep you had since he left, and you just knew that it'd be even better when you could physically be in each other's arms.
Kyle could have made some big deal of what he was going to do, Certainly Soap would have. Flashy and showy, talk shit about stealing someone's girl before actually going to do it. But that just simply wasn't his style. after all, one of the things he always prided about the SAS was the not quite moto "Move in silence, do the job, melt away." And while he wasn't planning melting away from you, the first two bits would absolutely be used with expertise.
The town you lived in was nice, midsized he'd say, not quite anything massive and sprawling like London or Manchester; but not some quiet hamlet where everyone knew everyone's business either. It was a nice place, he thought, as he'd spent his first two days getting to know the town. He was roughly aware of your schedule, it hadn't taken much, just a little malware a buddy set up for him, attached to something he'd made seem like it came from Johnny; it had quietly attached itself into your phone, allowing him to have a duplicate. One with your schedule, not as filled out as he might have liked to make it easy, but that was all part of the enjoyment of the chase.
He at least had the expected times you worked, already knew where from previous information diving. A few important meetings outlined, doctors appointments, you apparently liked to have a monthly Sunday brunch with someone. He wasn't sure, as you didn't mark who, and it didn't seem like you or your mutual's you had on socials posted anything about it. Really it seemed like you didn't post much of anything on social media other than things related to your job, random animals or things you found cute or funny, or something that you made.
He liked that you seemed cautious, too many people offered far too much up through social media these days. Truly the amount of leads found from social media blabbing was comically far from zero. But there was nothing wrong with a bit of ground work, and by the end of the week, he had a much more solid schedule in mind for you.
He was looking for a good in to finally introduce himself, hard to when you didn't really go out to bars. But his in had fallen into his lap as if ordained by some higher being in the form of a dog. Specifically a dog that some dumb teens had decided to torment. It wasn't hard to chase the little bastards off. What was harder was getting the thing to trust him once the kids were gone. Which was thirty minutes sitting in a dirty alley way, far from the worst situation he'd been in.
The thing was so matted, it was hard to tell what it was, he isn't much a dog person. He's say maybe a poodle with it's fur texture? After a once over he easily scooped up the dog. Something like thirty pounds, underfed certainly. It didn't take him long to get to the shelter you worked at, your sweet angelic face behind the counter tightening into a look of focus as he got in. A soft question of how you could help today and, god hearing your voice properly for the first time? It made his heart stutter a slight bit.
"Yeah, sorry to be trouble love, sure you all are busy enough. But found this guy getting tormented by some kids. He didn't seem to have a collar, probably needs shaved down or something." Kyle offers as you get a slip lead over the matted brown fur. Your so soft and sweet with the dog, it's weakly wagging in minutes, and Kyle can't say he wouldn't be doing the same if he had a tail.
The conversation feels tragically short, because well, obviously the concern is the wellness of the creature. Not getting to know the stranger that walked into the shelter past his name and basic details about what happened before leaving him to head off. He held onto every detail he could, your smile, how soft you were both physically and just the general air from being around you. He was certainly looking forward to when he'd get a hug out of you. But not now, now was biding his time for another meeting. Something he got a chance for two days later.
***
It had been another long day at the shelter, but at least for the most part, it was steady. Early mornings, always, but it never had you in past four most days, the absolute latest had ever been six. Which left you a decent amount of time to enjoy the day. And on Wednesday's, included a trip to the library after your shift. It was a welcome change from the often loud and unfortunately smelly job you held. Quiet, with the light scent of books. The book you'd checked out the week before turned in before you went to stalk the aisles for something interesting. Just browsing when you'd finally settled on something only to find yourself grabbing for it at the exact same moment as someone else.
Snatching your hand back at light speed, already flushing, "Sorry! You can have it, I was just looking." You spit out in a defensive way to spare yourself further embarrassment. But you find the book being offered out to you.
"No foul love, I'm doing much the same. More than happy to let you take it, I can just take a photo for next time."
And so you take it hesitantly, tucking it under your arm. "Oh, if your sure..." You say, then furrow your brow, getting a better look at him. the face and voice tickling in your brain for semblance of recognition.
"Though, since we seem to have similar taste, perhaps you can suggest me something else to read?" He says in a soft tone that makes a far from unpleasant shiver crawl up your spine.
"Yeah, I think I've got one, if you like Sci-Fi like this one was." You say, stepping a shelf to the side, looking for the blue cover of one that you had checked out a few months back. You pluck it, the familiar blue butterfly on the cover. "The Adoration of Jenna Fox?" He questions as you pass it over, nodding. "Yeah, It's about a girl who wakes from an 18-month coma with memory loss after an accident, and struggling to reconnect with her life. There's more but I don't want to spoil it, but I'll just say it's a really interesting dive into what makes a person themselves." You gush a little, excited to share, "Say, do I, know you? from somewhere?"
He seems to think for a moment, fingers tapping on the spine of the small book you've handed him before giving a small 'ah', "Yeah, I think you were the one at the desk when I brought in tha matted poodle to the shelter. How is he?"
"oh yeah! Kyle, right? He ended up looking more like he was a Barbet once we shaved him down. Definitely underweight, some skin issues with the mating and fleas, had to get them in a cast on his back leg." You titter, happily pulling out your phone to show him pictures of the poor thing cleaned up.
"Wow, he's looking loads better, sweet too." Kyle comments, looking them over with a soft hum, "I wish I could take him, but my job doesn't really have space for pets."
"Oh, what do you do?"
"Um, military, on leave for the moment, just enjoying time off."
"Oh! I've got a -uhm, friend who works military as well. what makes you come out here for your time off." It felt weird, relegating the Scotsman to call him a 'friend'. He'd said he didn't want anything "official" but it felt odd calling someone who'd manhandled you and fucked you silly more times than you can count on your hands just " a friend". If Kyle saw the hesitancy he didn't say anything.
"Change of scenery, a squad mate mentioned passing through and liking it, and seemed as good a place to hole up for the month. Seems it was a good idea, getting to save a cute dog, meet a lovely woman with what I'm guessing is an excellent taste in books." He shakes the book in his hand for emphasis. "Say, since I'm in town for a bit, would you mind getting dinner with me sometime? I'd love to pick your brain on the book once I finish it, say Friday?"
And now you're cheeks are burning again for an entirely other reason. because god he's so, so confident. Similarly to Johnny is yet at the same time, worlds apart. Before you could answer he was taking on to himself.
"To be honest love, I really wanted to ask you out when I first met you, but I make it a rule not to ask people out at their jobs. It just seemed like fate running into you again. Long as your not seeing any one, which is probably a long shot, a woman like you probably has plenty of men crowding you."
And god if the honesty of that didn't just gut punch you. He seriously had wanted to ask you out Monday? when you'd already changed twice because of getting various fluids on you and frazzled from the sudden influx of animals from the hoarder house that had been served papers. You had probably looked like hell warmed over when he'd come in finally that day, and he'd truly felt that way?
"I- uh, yeah, sure, I could do Friday" You didn't have the heart to say that no, no one really ever asked you out. Even the guy who sort of did had given up on 'dates' by now and turned into just a series of crashing at your flat to fuck whenever you were off. "If you give me your number, I can message you some restaurants in town that are good if you want to pick someplace from there? But, maybe like seven, just so I have time to not reek of whatever fluids and animal I dealt with that day?"
"That sounds perfect, though trust me I've probably smelt worse. But if you need more time, we could meet later?"
"No seven is good, I promise." you reply, taking your phone back after
"Friday at seven." Kyle nods, and you can't keep the grin off your face as you head off to check out. Blissfully ignorant that this was hardly "fate" pushing you two together.
This was originally going to be for Kinktober then I realized I may not have the time to fully commit to that but I'm not about to rob you guys of this because I fear I may have cooked :)
Also I actually wrote the some of the sex scene instead of leaving it open ended are you guys proud of me
CW: MINORS DNI. Smut, AFAB!Reader, gender neutral pronouns, reader has vaginismus, sex toys, anal, oral, dirty talk
TL;DR: a couple that experiments together stays together <3
Gaz learned it pretty early into dating you. By the third date, when things seemed to be becoming more serious, you mentioned having Vaginismus. Gaz had maybe heard the term once before hand, but honestly didn't care. He looked it up after the date, not wanting to research it right in front of you -- that would just be rude -- and the diagnosis didn't faze him.
So you couldn't have PIV sex, that's fine. Gaz isn't insecure nor an asshole, he doesn't need to get his dick wet. Plus, there's plenty of fun ways to get you off without sticking anything in you. He's tried eating you out, which was great until his tongue ventured too close to your entrance and your muscles cramped up. Making out while jerking each other off is always fun, but it does get repetitive and your wrists often get sore. So you started looking into getting sex toys.
External vibrators work wonders for you while you suck him off, wands or the notorious rose toy are your go-to. Even those vibrating grind pads are pretty good! Gaz goes along with anything you're interest in trying. He gets a kick out of online window shopping with you and laughing at some of the more intense-looking choices. The two of you ended up finding a pretty decent sized strap-on. The belt was a high quality leather material, soft on the user's skin while being "incredibly durable, lasting through hardcore sessions," as the site said. The attached dildo was fairly basic in comparison, a phallus with a couple prominent veins for texture and a rounded head. Textbook penis.
Gaz, who laid on top of you, his back to your chest as you browsed, looks up at you with an innocent bat of his eyelashes. "Would you strap me down, luv?" He teases, honey dripping from his voice as he laughs at himself. You quirk a brow but he's scrolling again before you can comment. You file the question away. It's not like you haven't thought about it before -- he does have a very nice ass -- you just never thought he'd bring it up.
Gaz is away for the next two weeks for work and the idea of spearing him on a strap doesn't leave your mind. You eventually decide to hell with it and go find that strap. If he asked about it, even jokingly, maybe he wants it too? If he doesn't… well, you're just down sixty-something dollars. Could you return a toy even if the box is unopened? Probably not. The package comes (hehe) within a few days and you stash it in the bedside drawer with all the other toys. When Gaz returns, he's quick to seek you out. The flowers he brought are quickly placed in a vase but he drags you to the bedroom before you can offer to order takeout.
Equally thrilled to hold the other again, your lips meet in a heated kiss. Clothes are practically torn off while two sets of hands explore the other's bodies like it's the first time again. You fall into bed without care, him atop you. Gaz sits up, knees planted either side of your hips. He runs hot kisses and gentle nips down your jaw, neck, sternum, all the way to your ribs. A few little marks bloom following his path, nothing compared to what you've left on him. He rolls his hips against you eagerly before checking in to make sure you're ready. He then reaches over to the bedside table and opens the drawer to find…
"Baby?"
"Yeah?"
"What's this for?"
He holds up the box for the strap. He knows what it is, it's pictured on the side showing off all that's included: belt, phallus, and a small bottle of lube. Your face heats up, the purchase having left your mind the second you got your hands on him again.
"Do… you remember the other night before you left? You asked if I'd ever…"
His eyes widen. Of course he remembered, he just didn't think anything of it at the time. He glances between you and the box, expression unreadable before a gentle laugh escapes him. He drops the box to the bed before slinking his arms around you with a tease on his tongue.
"Answers my question then. You wanna?"
You sputter. "Only if you really want to."
"Sweetheart, you should know by now I'm yours to have however you like." Gaz leans back, pulling you to sit up with him. "There's not too much I won't try, honestly. Long as you're gentle, I'm down."
Your eyes meet his for a moment, softening. You really lucked out with him. Receptive to your body, receptive to your wants and needs, and a genuine heart -- he's perfect. So perfect, in fact, you're quick to flip him over, earning a squeak of satisfaction from the man. You take his wrists and pin them to the pillow on either side of his head, a silent command to keep them there that Gaz smirks and disobeys immediately by moving to rest his hands under his head as you unbox the strap. You slip it on with ease that has the sergeant asking if you've done this before.
"Nope. Have you?"
"Nah. First time for everything, innit?"
You nod before situating. His legs move to accommodate you between them. He's hard, it's unknown if that's a result of the foreplay or simply by the idea of you fucking him like this. He'll never tell. You start by applying some lube to your fingers and rubbing them against his hole. He jerks, complaining the lube is cold and making you laugh.
"Easy, hun. Do I have to tie you down too?" You tease. Gaz's smile only grows. "Don't give me ideas~"
Rolling your eyes, you finally slide a finger inside. He clenches immediately but is quick to relax. You work him with the lone digit, watching intently for his reactions. Then you add another finger and curl them.
"Shit--" He gasps. You pause for a moment and he mewls. "No, no, keep going, love. Please."
Precum drips onto his abdomen as you work, coating the trial of hair that decorates his pelvis in slick. Once you deem him ready, you retract your fingers to prepare the dildo. He watches your every move. You seem confident, but he knows your silence is a tell to your nervousness. As you stroke the lube onto your cock for the evening, Gaz pulls himself into your lap to kiss you.
"Felt good, baby," He assures with a moan. "Love you."
You return his kiss and help him settle on your thighs. He bucks his hips, leaking cock rutting into your silicone one. You hoist him just enough to press your tip to his hole. His grip on your shoulders tightens for a second before he lowers himself. From there, you let him set the pace. "Shit…"
You wipe a bead of sweat from his forehead. His brows are furrowed and his eyes screwed shut. The intrusion may be a little much, but he seems eager to keep going, even as you assure him he can take him time. He stays fully seated for some time to let his body adjust and relax. After a few slow, testing thrusts, he meets your eyes again.
"Your vibe charged, love?"
"Should be."
He nods, retrieving your preferred vibrator from the stash. He clicks it onto a low speed before handing it to you.
"Only speed it up when I do," he orders. "Gonna fuckin' ride you 'til dawn."
