I Need Rudy In My Life

Antique Soldiers | Ghost!141

Summary: Going into an antique store you're drawn to a beautiful box which is sealed until you take it home only for the inhabitants inside be released.

Word Count: 5K+

Mythic Month HQ

★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★☠︎︎★

You were going to stay inside today, maybe curl up onto your sofa and watch your favourite films but no. You decided to help out your friend instead, you loved her with all of your heart but sometimes you really hate the fact you can never say no to her, which means you agreeing to do things without even realising what you’re agreeing to. 

She was directing some production for her end of term project. Creating some sort of crack den for vampires. You weren't really paying attention to what it was about but you agreed to be on set design. You've never done anything like that before but all she said was it to be ‘spooky vampire vibes’. 

You had spent all last night in your bed with your laptop on Pinterest, you were so far into your research of ‘vampire vibe’ decor that you hadn’t realised the sun was starting to rise and you were significantly hungrier than before. 

Tugging your coat tighter around yourself you trek down the highly decorated streets. It was close to halloween so you dodged carved pumpkins and hanging cobwebs from shop signs and awnings. Your town always goes all out even though it really isn't a popular holiday around these parts.

You stop in your tracks as you spot your destination in front of you. An old antique shop that sells things for dirt cheap. The owner has lived above it for years, there's a silly rumour that they're actually a witch but you don't believe in such things. 

The front door opened with a jingle of a bell which echoed around the quiet shop. You felt uneasy as you ventured into the small space. There were so many things in here so you were careful to not accidentally knock anything over. You walked past a mirror that had definitely survived a fire or something, the reflection was all hazy and the outsides were black with specks of the original gold peeking through. It looked like there was someone else standing inside of it but you quickly looked away before you fully saw anything. 

Feeling a shiver go up your spine you have a sudden feeling you're being watched. You looked around you but couldn't see anyone - not even a worker. Weird. 

As you look through shelves of things, you come across a table with a small box sitting on it. It was absolutely beautiful, it was silver with blue gems embedded into different slots. Picking it up you look at it closer and feel something move around inside, feeling curious you try to open it but sadly you can't. 

“Beautiful isn't it” you flinch as you turn and see a woman standing next to you. Her dark hair covered part of her face but you could clearly make out the wrinkles decorating her face. 

“How much is it? There isn't a price tag” you blurt out and ask before you even realise you said anything. Is it weird to be drawn to something so much? The woman gives it a long look before smiling at you “free, take it” you furrow your brows at her and then look at the box in your hands. It looked so precious and expensive, why would she give it to you for free?

“Are you sure? I can always give you something” you offer while moving towards your purse but a hand on your arm stops you “take it, it's yours now” is all she says before walking away leaving you alone once more. 

You exited the store but then came to the realisation that you didn't buy anything for your set. You look back through the window of the store and see the ‘closed’ sign swinging as if it was just turned. “Great… just great” you huff and then notice that it's a lot darker outside. How long were you in there for?

Looking down at the box in your arms you groan at your stupid infatuation with it but hold it closer to your chest and storm back to where you parked your car. 

It had been a couple of days and you woke up to the feeling of your apartment freezing cold. Pulling on a warm jumper, you pull the sleeves over your hands to try and gain some warmth into them. Rubbing your arms you walk over to the thermostat, but when you see the temperature you become confused. It's a normal temperature so why do you feel so cold?

Moving further into your home the temperature changes and you test the different rooms. Every room was the temperature it was supposed to be except your bedroom. Walking over to your whiteboard of things to remember you write down ‘call maintenance’ onto the list.

Sighing you go back into your freezing bedroom and get changed then grab your bag to go to your first class. What you don't realise is that the pretty sealed box you bought a couple of days ago was laying wide open on the top of your dresser. 

Your day was long and your friend was breathing down your neck about this stupid set design so you stayed behind and finished it off. When you get home you go into your bedroom and get ready for the shock of a cold temperature but when it doesn’t come you freeze. “Hmm maybe I don't have to call maintenance after all” you smile before going to your board and wipe the note off but then see the black marker is smeared over the white background. Looking closer it looks like finger marks which confuses you “What the?”

*BANG*  

You flinch at the sudden sound and peer around the corner to where you heard the sound come from. You see your bedroom door is now shut and eye it suspiciously before taking a deep breath and slowly walking towards it. If someone was inside of your apartment you would have seen them due to the lack of size and space you have but then again how do you explain the wiped off marker. 

Either it was an intruder or your friend was playing a trick on you, she had a spare key and has loved playing pranks on you since you were in high school. Taking another big deep breath you shake off your tense shoulders and grip the bedroom door handle, twisting it fast and barge through the door to find nothing. 

“I must be going crazy” you huff a laugh and then stop when something catches your eye. There was a reflection in your mirror and it looked like a man but it quickly disappeared and you looked all around your room and your eyes landed on something else.

The box.

Slowly walking over to where it sat on your dresser, the blue silk interior grabs your attention and you eagerly look inside only to find… dogtags?

Reaching inside you hold one up in the air and read it “Kyle Garrick” quirking an eyebrow up you gather the others into your hands and also read their names “Well Kyle, Johnny, Simon and John I don't know if you're real but if you are why are you in a box?” you question and feel something breathe in your ear. You flick your head to the side and look behind you, you're starting to get freaked out now but something in the back of your mind is laughing at you. 

Your gut feeling was saying for you to run, your eyes look at your open bedroom door and you dart for it. As you were about to pass through the threshold it slammed shut in your face and you grabbed the handle which was red hot. Letting out a hiss you hold your hand and feel the top layer of your skin burn. 

Backing away from the door you look at your window and groan when you realise they don't open far due to you being so high up. Reaching for your phone you pick it up but then you see the battery is dead “What the fuck?” you could've sworn it was at least 40%.  

Throwing it down on your bed your mind keeps nagging at you to go to the box. Glancing over at the glistening silver material you hesitate before touching it again. The dogtags were still laying inside and you picked all of them up, holding them in one hand as you investigated the box. You felt along the silk interior for anything stuck into it but you couldn't find anything. Flipping it upside down however an engraving stood out to you with a familiar name carved in the silver. 

Your name was in bold capital letters, you ran your thumb along it and felt every indent of each initial. “This has to be some sort of joke” you put it back down and go to pick up your phone to charge it and call someone, you need answers and you have a feeling your friend was behind this. 

As you turn around you let out a scream when you see four men looking at you. Your hand tightened around the dog tags wrapped around your hand as you stood there frozen on the spot. 

Get out of there!  Your mind screamed at you but you were in some sort of daze. 

You tried to move but your feet were stuck and your heartbeat got faster with every breath you took. “Don't be afraid we're not going to hurt you” one says with his arms raised in the air, he took a step towards you but you managed to step back, your ass was pressed up against the dresser and you felt behind you. The box was in reach and you flung it at them but watched in horror as it went through them. The loud clattering sound was the only noise filling your senses. 

“What the fuck?” is all you managed to get out before making a break for it and ran towards them, all logic in your mind went out of the window at your actions but they were guarding the door and you needed to get out of here. 

Arms however wrapped around your body and you were flung to the bed and held down “let me go!” you wiggle around to get yourself free but it was no use, you were stuck and it sucked terribly.  

“Calm down! breathe in through your nose and exhale through your mouth” someone grabs your chin and your face to face with one of the men, he has scars on his face which somehow seemed to calm you down. Some connected with one another and you snapped out of it when you felt something lightly tap your face. 

“Hey… we won't hurt you, my name's Kyle. What's yours?” his voice was soft and you almost fell into the security of it until you came back to reality. The other man had already let go of you but you scrambled up your bed until you were sitting on your pillows with your back to the headboard. You were shaking slightly and the cold feeling from this morning had come back. You looked at each individual who was surrounding your bed, they watched you with curious eyes but they didn’t seem to look threatening. Okay maybe they did a little with their big bodies but there was something trusting about them. 

After what felt like forever you crawled to the bottom of your bed and reached out a hand, carefully pushing through the abdomen of the scarred man. “This is insane…” you breathe out and a shiver goes up your arm, goosebumps raising along with your hairs. 

You saw movement in the corner of your eye and another man stood before you with something in his hand. You looked at him and he dropped the item in your hand which was one of the dog tags. “Johnny Mactavish, is this you?” he nods his head and you grab the rest which are sprawled out on your bed and gather them in your palm. 

“These belong to all of you?” 

“Yes they do” 

“Why are they in a box though in some antique store?” you had to ask the question but maybe they didn't even know. “Dunno but it's stuffy in there” one of them jokes and you stare blankly at him. 

You're joking with ghosts… dead people are in front of you right now and you’re joking with them as if they are still alive. 

Sighing heavily you ask for them to introduce themselves to you and then they slip each of their tags around your neck, they jingled with every move you made but you didn't mind it. You didn't feel comfortable talking to them in your room so you asked them to go to the living room instead, while you thought they would open the door they didn't and instead walked through it. 

When you entered your living room they were all waiting for you, each with different types of smiles on their faces, you sat on the sofa with your head in your hands. 

“So you guys are ghosts”

“Yes” they say in unison and you run your palms down your face and groan “okayyy and how did you die?” you ask but then they begin to awkwardly look at each other clearly uncomfortable with the question.        

You felt something lower itself next to you and John looks at you with a solemn expression on his face “We were on a mission but unfortunately couldn't trust the information we were given, we were captured and executed on the spot, youngest first up to the oldest” you let out a gasp at his words and went to give him a friendly touch of reassurance only for your hand to go through him. 

“I'm sorry…” your hand hovers over where his shoulder is and he appreciated the gesture and placed his hand on yours. Your hand felt as if it was inside of the freezer by his touch and he could tell you were uncomfortable and retreated it. 

As you stared at his hand you were suddenly curious about something “How is it that I can see you guys?” you look over to the others and Simon steps forward “We're showing ourselves to you, also you have something we’re attached to” he points to the metallic chains around your neck which makes you look down at them and touch them. 

“Why can I only touch you some of the time?” You turned to John and he tapped his head “It takes a lot of concentration, can’t do it all the time or else then you won’t be able to see or hear us” you nod your head as you take in the information and then stand up. 

“I see… When did the box open?” you asked while standing there and tapping your pointer finger on your lip in thought. “Around this morning” Johnny says and everyone agrees with murmurs and nods. 

“So what you're saying is you watched me sleep and get dressed today” you looked at him and he seemed to freeze on the spot and become flustered. “Umm well uh…” he slowly disappeared from your vision and you sighed “Really? Even in death guys are still creeps” 

“We are not creeps! You just didn’t know we were there” Kyle states and you narrow your eyes at him before rolling them and walking to your front door.

“Well it was nice meeting you but you may leave now, go bother someone else” you motion to the hallway outside your apartment and they stay where they are and then Johnny comes back into view shaking his head side to side. 

“Come on, gooo” you move your arm quickly hoping it'll spur them into movement but they're all still rooted like a tree. 

“We can't. We're stuck here” Simon says flatly “You fucking with me right. No?” your mouth was open like a fish out of water and you slammed the door behind you not realising its currently very late and your neighbours are probably asleep. 

“Well if you’re going to be here all the time then we’re going to have to have some rules” you stand like a mother with your hands on your hips and giving each individual a look to let them know you're serious. 

“Of course. What are your rules?” John sits on the arm of your sofa and waits patiently, you appreciate the gesture and his respect for you. 

“Everyone just come over here please” you motion to your sofa and they all do as you say. You stand in front of them pacing. 

“Okay so first, no going in my room” they all nod and you bite your lip while trying to think of another rule. “Secondly, no - ummm. Bathroom! Do not go in there okay?” Kyle lets out a small giggle and you sigh. 

“That’s all I got” you say, shrugging your shoulders and collapsing into your armchair. You were exhausted from your busy day and the showing up of your new ‘roommates’. Running a hand down your face you let out a yawn and then there was a knock at your door. 

Walking over, the guys as well, you look through your peephole and see who it is. Opening it you see your neighbour standing there. “Thank goodness you answered, are you okay dearie? I heard you pacing around and… you talking to yourself” the older woman played with her cardigan button and you just stared blankly at her “Oh, I was- on the phone” you give her a smile but her eyes cast to the side of you which makes you panic. 

“Why is your hair floating?” She didn’t seem fazed by what she said but your shoulders tense when you feel a cool breeze run up your back. Reaching up to your head you smooth down the hairs, Kyle pops up next to you with a cheeky smile on his face but you remain calm in front of your neighbour who looks… worried for you. 

“I was rubbing a balloon on my head. The static and stuff” You state and she seems to become more worried “A balloon?” She looked down at her watch and then back to you “Sweetheart why don’t you go get yourself some sleep okay? And I’ll bring you some breakfast in the morning” she says, softly grabbing your hand in a caring manner. 

After saying your goodbyes you shut your door softly not wanting to wake your neighbours at 3am. Turning swiftly on your heel you march towards Kyle “That wasn’t funny!” You whisper yell but all he does is shrug his shoulders and laugh. “It was funny. For me anyway” he seemed very happy with himself as he joyfully walked around your living room, looking at the photos on the walls and knocking a blanket off the back of your sofa on purpose. 

“I'll put you back in the box!” you threaten and he turns around and puts his hands together while falling onto his knees “Oh please don't! I don't deserve such punishment” he laughs and you grumble something under your breath before slowly backing out of the room “John please keep him away from my stuff, you're my favourite as of now” “Hey what about me?!” Johnny shouts but you’re already in your room getting ready to go to sleep.

When you woke up in the morning you had hoped everything was a dream until you opened your bedroom door to a six foot something Simon. “Fuck me! Why are you standing there?” you placed a hand on your chest to steady your beating heart while walking through him. “I was coming to see if you were awake” he followed you as you walked to the kitchen and filled the kettle with water. 

“Why?” 

“The guys were annoying me”

“So you thought to come and annoy me” 

You were grabbing your favourite mug from the cupboard and prepared your drink for the water. “I wanted to ask you something” you hummed for him to continue as you grabbed a spoon. “The box had your name on it, why?” you stopped where you stood by the sink and turned to face him “Thank you for reminding me” you smiled before walking past him and going to your room to find it. 

When you entered it was still on the floor from when you threw it at them and your name was still engraved into the bottom. As it was tipped upside down something flew out and you looked down at the ground to see a piece of paper laying next to your foot. That most definitely wasn't there yesterday. Bending down to pick it up you turned it around and read the inky words on the page.   

‘May these souls be reunited with their owner’    

“Owner? That sounds like some bullshit don't you think” you look to your side but don't see Simon with you. Poking your head out to where your door is you see him leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. “Why didn't you follow me? I was talking to you”      

“Did you really forget your own rules already?” 

You did forget but he didn't need to know that. “No… but we were having a conversation so that means you could come in” you held your head high and he just gave you one look and came inside of your room. 

You show him the paper in your hand and he reads it, there wasn't any emotion on his face so you didn't really know what he was thinking. “Where did you get this from?” He points to the paper and then you show him the box that was tucked under your armpit. 

“It flew out when I was reading the bottom” 

He turned on his heel while holding the box and walked away from you. “Where are you going?” you chase after him and the tags around your neck clashed together as you did so. 

When you walk into the living room the guys are all there surrounding your coffee table as they stare at the box Simon placed down along with the note. 

“What does it mean?” “How do we know that she didn’t put it there last night” 

They turned to look at you in unison and you somewhat felt like you were under some sort of investigation. “Why would I write something like that? Even I don't know what it means” 

“Well clearly it means that she is our owner and this box belongs to her” 

“Why did you buy this box in the first place?” John asks you and you give it a look and walk towards it. 

“I was buying some things for a project and this was the only thing I picked up. I immediately asked for the price but the woman gave it to me for free, I never saw the engraving on the bottom” you say in the most honest way you could. “I was somewhat attracted to it” your eyes were glued to the shiny material. 

“Did the woman seem weird at all?” Kyle asks and you look at him and think “Not really… she approached me out of nowhere and that was it” 

“What did she look like?” 

“What's with all the questions? It was just some old lady who said I could take it and that's it” you don't know why you got so defensive but they were starting to annoy you and you've only known them for a day. 

“Black hair?” 

“Seemed like she would smell funky” you stared at Johnny and made a face of disgust “Uh yeah…” they moved in an instant and came towards you, their bodies were so close and you felt intimidated. 

“When we died we saw a woman like that and then she put us in that very box” John explained while pointing to the coffee table. “Should we go to the store and see if she's there?” you say looking at each of them and then shake your head as you remembered they can’t leave… or can they?

Turning around to your front door you opened it but then jumped out of your skin when you saw your neighbour standing there “Are you okay sweetie? I brought you breakfast” giving her a smile you quickly take it out of her hands and bring it inside before sending her back to her apartment. 

“Follow me” 

“We-” 

“Come outside, trust me” you beckon them over with your hand and they give each other a shrug before Kyle comes running towards the door. You watch from the hallway outside your apartment, him coming your way, you had no idea if it would work but it's worth a try - and he's really trusting you in this. 

He closed his eyes and ran straight over the threshold of your entrance. A smile spread over your face and the others inside looked confused “I think it has to do with these” you say while holding up the dog tags around your neck. “They were in the box, sooo if I take them with me so can you” that was your logic around it but you had no idea this idea would even work but you're glad it did. 

“Simon grab the box and let's go!” you march away until you hear your name being called “Aren't you forgetting something?” John says and points to your feet, nodding your head you go back into your apartment and grab some shoes and also your car keys. 

Walking down the streets with the knowledge that there are four ghosts with you and no one else knows makes you feel weird. You tried not to speak to them as you didn’t want the surprisingly busy streets to think you're talking to them or yourself…

You saw the shop ahead and headed towards it in a more hurried manner, you wanted to find this woman and wanted answers as to why she's given you four ghosts.  

Opening the door the same bell jingled above the door and a woman greeted you. You've never seen her before but walked up to the counter anyway. “Hi, I was sold this box a couple of days ago and I wanted to see if the woman who sold it me was here” 

The blonde gave you a smile and then frowned when she looked down at the item on the counter. “I'm sorry but we didn't sell you this” she says and you shake your head “No I came in here and picked it up from a table in the back” you point in the general direction but she gives you a disappointing smile and shakes her head. 

“Well is the woman here? Dark hair and around this height” you measure where the woman was up to you and the woman shakes her head yet again “I’m the only one who works here, I'm sorry I can’t help you”  

You watch as Simon and Johnny walk through the counter and investigate the back room, the girl must've felt the breeze of their bodies and turned around. You were so glad she couldn't see them. 

“Have you ever had anyone of that description come in before?” you question and she turns back around to you and taps the counter thinking of an answer. “Nope not many people come in here so I would remember someone like that” 

You see the guys reemerge from the back and Johnny gives you a shrug of the shoulders “Nothing there” Simon says and you admit defeat and pick up your box and turn to leave. When you walk back outside your shoulders sag and a frown appears on your face “I guess we’ll never know why she gave me this box” you kick a stone across the floor and walk back to your car with the guys behind you.   

“It'll be okay, you got four smoking men to live with now, anyone would die for that” you hear Kyle say from his place next to you and you let out a laugh and unlock your car. 

“I don’t particularly find dead people attractive, no offence” 

Weeks later you and the guys have been getting along. 

Price helped you build a bookshelf, which was collecting dust for years in its box. He couldn't actually do it for you but he told you where each thing went, it wasn’t helpful when Kyle stole one of the screws. Apparently he wasn't always like this, a jokester yes but never this playful. You didn't mind it really, it was a little annoying sometimes but he’d bring it back… after begging for it. 

Simon and Johnny helped you bake. You were making some cupcakes for your friend's birthday party and you were on strict duty to make your ‘yummy cupcakes’. They weren't even special but if people liked them, then that's all that matters. Johnny did tie the apron a little too tight around your waist but you didn’t mind breathing with how he smiled so brightly at the thought he was helping you. Simon read out the recipe - even though you didn’t need it - he did read it softly but sometimes his lieutenant side came out and yelled at you for not following them directly.    

You hadn’t gotten used to the fact that they just pop up out of nowhere. Playing tricks on you, making you jump or drop things when they reach out to grab you but don’t show themselves. It was as if they were trying to give you a heart attack and become like them.

You had found their social media that was never deleted and laughed at their pictures, they were bad… really bad. They didn't appreciate your judgemental looks and your laugh crying and threw things at you. 

Whenever you had friends over you would have to beg them to behave but you would see them in the corner of your eye touching your friends hair or making the room unbearably cold. You had to lie and say it was just your apartment because there was no chance they would believe you had ghosts living with you, 

Their dog tags were laid safely inside of the silver box on your dresser, you only wore them unless you wanted to take them out of your house, Johnny claimed it was as if they were your pet. You did remind him of the ominous note of you being their owner  and he ripped it up and threw it out of the window, very dramatic.  

You'd never see the woman again and you frequented the antique store after your class just to try to see her but you never got close. She just disappeared. 

It was okay though, living with ghosts isn't actually as bad as it seems.

The boys take care of you after a rough mission leaving you in the hospital🏥

CW: Mentions of broken bones

GN!Reader x TF141

After a mission gone wrong you were left in the bases hospital battered and bruised. The bones in your finger were crushed and your reward is a stiff itchy bandage. The lights above your bed buzz like swarming flies waiting for the opportunity to eat you alive. Constant beeping and buzzing fill your ears as you lay in a small sterile room unable to leave.

Your eyes grow fuzzy as everything becomes too much, everything feels so overwhelming. You want to leave, to run to the nearest exit and be with your team again. Muscles tense as you attempt to sit up but they buckle, you land back on the bed with a thud.

Right ad you were about to lose hope the door to your room swings open. John, Johnny, Kyle, and Simon have there arms filled with different things that they know will make you feel better.

“Can’t ‘ave our mate suffer ‘ere alone, gotcha some sweets”

Kyle chuckles elbowing Johnny in the ribs.

“You’re gonna rot her teeth Johnny, I actually brought something useful.”

You lift your head wondering what he has only to see your bed sheets from your bunk. He gently takes off the uncomfortable bedding and drapes the sheets onto your sore body. Immediately you relax feeling much more comfortable than before.

Johnny sets the candy onto the table next to your bed not without snatching one for himself pocketing it.

“The doctors been treating you good?”, Simon asks while leaning against the wall.

He holds his mask in one hand, his sandy blonde hair a mess and the eye black still smeared on his face. Despite that his eyes hold a softness to them genuinely worried about your well being.

“Yeah they’ve been treating me good. Nice to see you again Simon”

He hums in approval happy to hear your ok, its always a pleasure to see him without the mask. In your heart you know that he’ll only shed the mask for those he trusts. Its been a while since he’s been unmasked so seeing him without it makes this moment feel special.

John walks up to the machines with his hands on his hips looking at them for a moment before looking at you.

“Is the sound botherin’ you because I know for sure they are bothering me”

“I mean yeah I guess but you can’t just shut them off”

He doesn’t hesitate before going to the side of the machine turning off the constant beeping and noise.

“You can’t just do that they need to be on for stuff”

John turns to you with a smile and crinkle on the sides of his eyes. The beard he has only making his smile feel even more warm than before.

“Darlin’ we are constantly breaking the rules for what is right. Right now we’re taking care of one our own, you already know we’d break every rule in the book for that”

You just shake your head with a smile on your face knowing that theres no point in arguing with him. A yawn escapes your mouth and your eyes start feeling heavy finally feeling at peace. You fight it wanting to spend more time with your team.

A hand is placed on your shoulder, slowly you look up to see Simons face. His thumb caresses your shoulder softly.

“Rest up soldier, we’ll be here when you wake up”

With that you finally let yourself rest and drift off to sleep knowing your team is here for you.

HES SO HANDSOME😭💖

Yesterday i used the wrong account. So now im reloading it onto here. Lol.

*chefs kiss* absolutely amazing fic✨

ミ stay for something

🍓 pairing: kyle 'gaz' garrick x fem reader

🍓 tags: nsfw, ex-boyfriend!gaz, unprotected vaginal sex, lack of communication, jealousy, 'just the tip' trope, sex with feelings

masterlist

reblogs are always enormously appreciated!

You hate wasting a Friday night on a first date, but you had genuinely high hopes for this one. You had made such an effort, too; pretty sparkly eyeshadow, strawberry-flavoured lipgloss, a new little black dress.

You look good. You feel good. 

It’s just a shame that the guy is a bit of a moron. 

He talks about himself a lot over dinner. Like, so much. You sit and smile and pretend to listen, your gaze wandering, and wonder if he’s going to ask any questions about you. He does (eventually), but they’re short and perfunctory and he seems to just take your answers and use them as a springboard into his next topic of discussion.

It’s a little tedious, but hey. First dates usually are. You weather it, your polite smile turning a little stiff as you sip your wine. Truthfully, you have ulterior motives here.

You’re not proud of it, but you don’t think you can handle the dry spell you’re going through anymore. You crave touch, affection, some kind of connection. You’re okay with being single, but god you’re so hungry for intimacy that it’s led to you agreeing to a date with a guy that you honestly wouldn’t have normally been into just for the chance of getting some action.

Ben is a nice enough guy, and he’s certainly good looking; neatly groomed hair, straight white teeth, a nice physique. He’s in good shape, though you can’t help but subconsciously compare him to— 

No, you think sternly to yourself, Don’t do that.

When he leans into you at the end of the date and asks in a low, sultry voice if you want to continue the night with him, you agree a little breathlessly. God, it’s been a long time since you were touched.

Your place is closer, and you can’t help but feel a little illicit thrill as you lead Ben back. You never usually bring guys back to yours, especially not on the first date, but you’ll be the first to admit that you’re needy tonight. 

The weather is getting colder as winter creeps its icy fingers through the air, but you’re wrapped tight in your coat and kept nice and warm as Ben wraps an arm around your waist, kissing heatedly at your neck as you try to open your door.

You giggle, the wine from dinner making you all loose and happy and eager. You tilt your head to give him more of your throat, and he eagerly takes the opportunity to introduce teeth and tongue as he kisses the line of your neck. You fumble with the key, clumsy as your body heats up.

When you finally manage to turn the key and get the stupid door open, Ben grabs you by the hips and spins you around so that he can pull you into a proper kiss. The guy might have been a dull conversationalist, but you’re delighted to find that he’s a good kisser.

The two of you stumble through the door, your arms locked around his neck as he holds you by the waist. It’s a little embarrassing how eager you are for a guy that you really aren’t even all that into, but you guess that’s just where desperation has gotten you.

“Shit,” Ben hisses when you nip at his lip. “Fuck, you’re so hot. C’mere, take this off.”

He starts tugging at your coat, and you pull back just enough to shrug it off, letting it drop to the floor. He lets out a throaty sound of appreciation, before grabbing at your waist again and leaning in to trail another set of hot kisses along your neck and shoulder. 

You tilt your head back, thunking lightly against the wall, and your eyelids flutter at the nipping kisses along your sensitive skin. 

“Oh, god…” You breathe, blinking your eyes open again.

But then… you pause. For the first time, you notice that the lights in your entryway are on. Why are they on? You hadn’t turned them on when you came in, and you know that they weren’t on when you had left. 

Ben is still groping eagerly at your hips, one hand reaching around to squeeze at your ass, but now you’re distracted, on alert. Your eyes dart around, and fall on a pair of Adidas Superstars set neatly by the front door, and a big puffer coat that’s been hung up on the hook in the hall.

Oh no. No fucking way.

As if to confirm the path your thoughts had just taken, your eyes catch on a figure in the doorway to the living room, leaning casually against the doorframe. Just watching.

A scream catches in your throat, and you grab Ben by the shoulders in an attempt to stop him. He doesn’t seem to understand, because he just keeps squeezing at your ass, pulling your hips closer so that he can slot between your legs and grind against you.

The brief spark of arousal that shoots through you when he grinds his hard-on into the seam of your cunt through your underwear is significantly dampened by the awareness that someone is already in your home, watching you, and you already know who it is.

“Hey, baby,” Kyle fucking Garrick says, lifting a mug patterned with little cartoon cats to his mouth. “Had a nice night out?”

“Jesus Christ–” You hiss, shoving at Ben’s chest. This time, the push isn’t needed, because Ben has rocketed up straight at the sound of another man’s voice in your house calling you ‘baby’.

“What the–” Ben starts to say, his brow furrowing into a bewildered frown when he catches sight of Gaz standing in the doorway watching you.

“Kyle, what are you doing here?” You snap, mortified. You grab at the bottom of your short little dress, pulling roughly at it to try and make sure you’re not flashing anyone.

Gaz watches you, amusement shining in his dark eyes. He’s not even trying to hide the way his gaze is drawn to your legs, lingering where your dress has ridden up your thighs. He sips his tea, a poor attempt at concealing his smirk.

“Home from deployment earlier than expected, love.” He says, calm and casual as if he hasn’t just broken into your goddamn house to destroy any hope you had of getting railed that night. “No time to find accommodation. You don’t mind, eh?”

Ben’s head is swinging between the two of you, his expression blank as he tries to work out just what exactly is happening. He’s straightened up entirely, the presence of Gaz obviously putting him on edge. You can’t blame him for his confusion; Gaz is currently looking at you like he wants to fucking eat you alive, and you’re beginning to get hot and flustered under his stare.

“Are you–” Ben starts, his head still on a swivel as though he can’t decide who to address. “I’m sorry, who is this?”

Gaz doesn’t even bother to reply at once. He sips at his tea, and tilts his head as he lets his eyes wander over Ben lazily. It doesn’t seem like he’s all too impressed by what he sees, though he’s smirking as though he’s amused.

“Sergeant Kyle Garrick.” He says at last, with a nod.

You huff. You know what he’s doing – he never introduces himself by his rank unless he’s trying to make a point.

Ben goes stiff. He’s still pressed against you, and you can feel every ounce of tension down the line of your body. It seems like he’s just now clocking Gaz as a proper threat, and you take a breath as you realise that he’s about to split and leave you here.

And sure enough–

“I– Listen, I don’t know what’s.. what’s going on here, but I don’t want any trouble.” Ben says, finally pushing himself away from you. He’s holding his hands up by his shoulders as though he’s being held at gunpoint, and you roll your eyes impatiently at his dramatics.

“No trouble, mate.” Gaz says, his voice still cheerfully amiable. “Door’s behind you.”

“Gaz–” You hiss, incensed, but it’s pointless. 

Ben is already scrambling to open the door, heedless of the way you grasp onto his coat in protest. You sigh heavily as he tumbles out into the cold night, and the door slams shut behind him so loud it makes your head hurt.

You stand alone in your entryway, shivering a little in your tiny black dress and heels from the icy breeze that was let in from Ben’s escape. Your jaw is clenched tight, and you take a deep, deep breath as you turn to face your ex-boyfriend.

Gaz is still watching you, his deep brown eyes staring at you from beneath his long dark lashes. You try hard to ignore his expression, which is unmistakably hungry.

“You look good, baby.” He says, staring pointedly at the way your breasts are all pushed up in your tight dress. 

“Don’t call me that.” You grumble, teaching down to unbuckle your delicate heels. You cast them aside and kick them over so they’re laying beside Gaz’s runners.

Gaz just snickers, turning to follow after you when you march your way to the kitchen. Irritation is burning hot in your veins, your lips pursed as you struggle to bite your tongue. It’s so fucking typical that the exact night you try to have some cheap, meaningless sex with some stranger, Gaz has decided to land right into your home. It’s like he has a fucking radar for when you’re about to get laid.

“You could have gotten a hotel.” You snap over your shoulder as you make your way to the kettle. It’s already hot, but you flick the switch again anyway.

“Nah. They’re all booked out. Busy season, you know.”

God, he’s so full of shit. You both know he never even considered staying anywhere other than with you, just like the last few times.

Still, you persevere.

“You could have stayed with one of the guys.” You say, turning around and folding your arms over your chest.

Gaz glances down, and you realise that you’ve inadvertently pushed your breasts together and up. You hastily drop your arms again, and settle instead for planting your hands on your hips.

“Could have,” He admits, leaning against your kitchen table in a way that’s infuriatingly casual. “But they never offered.”

“Neither did I–!”

Gaz doesn’t even seem to hear you. He just steps towards you, reaching to grab an empty mug from the cupboard above your head. The movement brings him so close to you, close enough that your next inhale is scented with his fresh-sweet cologne, the one you always loved, and you find your eyelids fluttering as your muscles relax without your permission. He smells so familiar, so comforting. You hate it.

“Go get changed,” He murmurs, keeping his voice low like he knows the moment is delicate. “We’ll watch a movie.”

You’d love to get fired up, to shove him or curse at him, but it’s all you can do to find the strength to step away from him instead of melting into him. You’re pretty sure he deserves an ass-kicking for this stunt of this, but you decide to pick your battles. Or at least, to postpone them.

You waver another moment, debating over whether you should try to get the last say, but Gaz has already turned away to continue making the cup of tea that you had started. Recognising that the moment has passed, you huff a sigh and march out of the kitchen, making your way to your bedroom.

It takes quite a bit of wiggling to get out your dress – it might look good, but there’s an inordinate sense of relief when you finally tug it over your head and feel as though you can breathe unimpeded again. You unclip your bra and toss it aside, rolling your shoulders and sighing as your breasts are freed. 

Once you're dressed again in a worn-out massive t-shirt that drowns your body and some loose sweatpants, looking decidedly unsexy, you pad to your bathroom and start washing your makeup off. Now that you’re alone, that disappointment and frustration is settling in properly. Ben might have been boring, but if his kissing was anything to judge by, you might actually have had a perfectly enjoyable night with him.

Bare-faced and dressed for lounging in bed, you trudge back downstairs to your ex-boyfriend. It’s far from the way you wanted to end your night, but you’ve resigned yourself to your fate. You can hear the muffled sounds from the television as you make your way downstairs, and you redirect yourself towards your small sitting room.

Gaz is sat sprawled on the couch, his legs spread wide as he makes himself comfortable in your home. Something twists in your stomach at how comfy he looks, as though he belongs there. He looks around when you walk in, though your footsteps are quiet and muffled by your fluffy socks.

You look far from sexy right now in your ugly old loungewear and bare face, but Gaz brightens up at the sight of you.

“There she is.” He crows, though there’s something soft in his gaze that you can hardly face. “C’mon, love. Want to pick what we’re watching?”

You just look at him tiredly. He’s as handsome as ever; the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen. He must have come straight here once he’d gotten back from deployment because his eyes are dark and exhausted and stubble is a little more overgrown than usual. You hate that he’s able to come into your space like this so easily – like he’s never left.

“Gaz–” You start to say, but you’re cut off when he reaches for your hand.

He tugs you towards him, and you put a knee hastily up on the couch to prevent yourself from falling flat into his lap.

“Shhh, c’mon. Just sit with me.” He murmurs, looking up at you with those damn pretty eyes.

You waver, but then you turn your head to the side and catch sight of the second cup of tea sitting on the coffee table. Gaz has made it just how you like it, and in your favourite mug too. You crumble almost instantly. 

“Stick to your side of the couch.” You grumble, before dropping yourself down heavily onto the sofa next to him.

Gaz hums, and you can already tell that he has no intention of following that order. His arm is already sprawled over the back of the couch; it’s not touching you, but you have no doubt that he’ll try to before the end of the night.

He sticks on some stupid movie on Netflix. You don’t pay attention. It’s a rom-com, which is typical. He always pretends he chooses the sappy romantic films for your benefit, but you’re not fooled. You see the way he watches them with avid interest, the way his toes curl in his socks when the big love confession scene comes on screen. It’s always been something that you’re impossibly fond of.

The two of you are silent for a while, but it’s not uncomfortable. Part of you wishes that it was awkward – it would be easier, you think. But he makes it so simple, sitting with him like this as the cheesy film plays in the background. You’re still a little tipsy from the drinks you’d had at dinner, and you melt into the couch beside him a little quicker than you think you would have otherwise.

“You ruined my night, you know.” You say at last, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye.

To your surprise, he’s already looking at you. You glance away hastily again, not wanting to make eye contact.

“Nah,” He says, and you feel his arm dip down a little. He’s cupping your shoulders now, and you should probably move away, but you don’t. “If anything, I saved you from having a long, disappointing night with some tosser you agreed to pity-date. He didn’t exactly look like your type, darling.”

“He was a perfectly nice guy.” You bite out, crossing your arms defensively over your belly in your big t-shirt.

“Nice guys don’t end the first date by groping your ass and humping you up against your wall in your own house.” He says, and if you’re not mistaken you’d say he sounds a little bitter.

You cast a sideways glance at him. He’s sitting up, watching you closely and leaning just slightly towards you. He’s so intense about the way he’s looking at you, his arm dipping low so that he’s holding you properly.

“Stop it.” You say. It hardly even sounds like a proper protest. You’re so tired, still a little floaty from the wine you’d had at dinner, and desperately disappointed by the lack of sexual satisfaction you had been hoping for.

There’s a pause, and then Gaz gives a small shrug. He pulls his arm back to give you space, but he still has that stupid smirk on his face. You can’t even be angry about the cockiness of his expression when his eyes are that soft though.

“Sorry, sweetheart.” He murmurs. “I’m not being fair, am I?”

“No,” You say petulantly. “You’re not.”

He huffs a noise that’s almost a laugh, only he manages to stifle it so that it comes out as a cough instead. 

“Mm. I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to ruin your big date night, especially when you got done up so pretty for it,” He murmurs, his voice low and sweet as honey trickling down your spine. “Let me make up for it. Come on, get over here.”

You hesitate, but Gaz isn’t really giving you an option. He begins to shift, one of his strong muscled arms looping around your waist as he pulls you into him. It takes you a long moment to realise what it is that he’s trying to do. He lays back on the couch and pulls you with him, encouraging you to pull your legs up onto the sofa so that the two of you are laying on your sides, with Gaz spooned up against your back. 

It’s definitely a bad idea to cuddle with him on the couch like this. You’re trying to set boundaries, to make it clear that you’re just friends (if you can even call it that) after your breakup. And yet… you don’t offer any sort of protest at all.

“Relax,” Gaz sighs from behind you, and you feel his nose nuzzle against the back of your neck. “You love cuddling.”

You roll your eyes, turning your head slightly so he can see the unimpressed expression on your face. 

“This isn’t enough to make up for being such a dick.” You grumble. Despite your griping, you don’t actually make any attempt to get out of his arms.

He was right, after all. You do love cuddling. It was your favourite thing to do when you were together. 

But you’re not together anymore, and it’s hard to ignore the gnawing guilt that you’re letting this grow into something that should be avoided instead of nipping it in the bud. You and Gaz had broken up months ago, and it was a perfectly amicable split. You can’t even say that he was at fault for any of it; the strain of the long distance part of your relationship while he was on deployment just grew too much for you, the space his absence left filling with brambled loneliness that pricked incessantly at you. You had known what you were getting into with this relationship with him, and yet when it came down to it you got too greedy, wanting more of him than he was able to give. 

Tonight was a moment of weakness for you, and though your hopes for sex may have been thwarted, you can’t turn down the soft familiar intimacy of Gaz’s strong body cradling you close against him.

Maybe it’s the wine you had at dinner, but you find your muscles relaxing a little as one of Gaz’s arms loops around your waist, his big hand coming to rest across your belly.

“Mm. I’m being selfish, love.” He murmurs, and you fight a shiver as his warm breath ghosts over the delicate shell of your ear. “This is more for me than for you.”

You’re not altogether sure that’s true. It’s certainly doing an awful lot for you right now. Gaz is in just a t-shirt, the muscles of his biceps bunching up under his bare skin as he tries to subtly nudge you closer to him. 

You’ve missed being all wrapped up in the warm embrace of him; he cuddles with his whole body, the front of his thighs all pressed against the back of yours, his strong chest moulding to your back as his face nuzzles against the back of your neck. You always feel so safe when he holds you like this, like he’s blocking out the rest of the world for you. You can only guess he feels the same – he holds you that much tighter every time he gets back home from his missions.

You grumble quietly, but soon settle down. The repetitive stroking motion of his thumb over your hip is more soothing than it should be. You take deep breaths, trying to be subtle about it, because all you can smell is Gaz and his citrusy sweet aftershave and you just want to drown in it.

“You can’t keep doing this.” You mumble, though all the fight has gone out of you. “It’s not… helpful.”

There’s a moment of silence, and then Gaz shifts behind you. His arm tightens around your waist almost imperceptibly, as though he thinks you’re going to push him away. But you’re being selfish now too, comfortably wrapped up against his chest.

“We said we’d stay friends,” He says at last, and he’s so close that you can feel his lips move against the back of your neck as he speaks. “Nothin’ wrong with some platonic cuddling. You should see how close me an’ Soap have had to cuddle to conserve heat when we’re out on the field.”

You huff a small laugh, which is obviously what he had been hoping for. Platonic cuddling. This certainly doesn’t feel platonic, but you can’t bring yourself to push him away. You’ve been craving this kind of closeness for months now, so you just let yourself reluctantly enjoy it. It would have been so much easier if you were able to enjoy it with Ben, with someone who meant nothing to you and wouldn’t have brought with him such a complicated web of feelings and history, but there’s a real sense of comfort in the familiarity of Gaz’s presence.

The film Gaz had chosen to stick on is a stupid one. It’s half action, half love story, with a strong rugged hero and a too-beautiful love-interest whose main role seems to be throwing out quips for comedic relief. You’ve seen a hundred versions of this plot play out in other films, though Gaz is predictably glued to the screen. He’s always loved these stupid films.

You’re comfortable enough that you fall into a light doze, uninterested in the television as you relish the heat from Gaz’s chest. He’s like a fucking human radiator, so hot that you can feel a thin dew of sweat begin to break out along your spine. It chases away the chill of the night and makes you so sleepy.

You’re almost asleep when movement from behind you jolts you back to wakefulness. For a moment, you wonder if you’ve imagined it. Then Gaz moves again, and this time it’s unmistakable.

Gaz is hard, the thick ridge of him impossible to miss as he presses against your ass. You’re awake instantly, the slight tipsiness from dinner vanishing into thin air. You’re on high alert, eyes darting back to the television to see what the fuck has aroused him, but there’s nothing of note happening onscreen. It’s just a conversation between characters, exposition setting up the next stage of the plot.

“Gaz,” You say, and your voice comes out louder than you had intended. “Stop humping my ass.”

You’re half-expecting him to deny it, but he just huffs a quiet snort, his nose nuzzling against the back of your neck.

“Sorry, love.” He says, though he doesn’t sound sorry in the least. “Can’t help it. Missed you loads.”

You can feel his cock even through the layers of your clothing, and you swallow hard. God, you’ve missed it. You’ve missed him, though it doesn’t seem like the right time to admit it. How are you ever supposed to get over each other if he keeps coming to stay with you every time he gets back from wherever in God’s name he’s been, when he holds you so sweetly and talks to you like you’re still his girl?

His hips rock into you in a movement that’s almost imperceptible, except you’re waiting for it. His hands are gripping your waist, his fingers curling into the soft flesh there. He’s always enjoyed the way your body yields to him, so much softer than the hard planes of muscle that make up his own, and it’s no surprise that he goes straight back to holding onto his favourite parts of you even as he ruts against your ass.

“Jesus, Gaz–” You start to complain, but your voice is a little too breathy to be convincingly angry.

“Stop that,” He murmurs, his lips pressing against the side of your neck. “You never call me that.”

That is true – after the breakup, calling him Kyle just seemed too intimate. It’s a name that usually falls from your lips with care, in soft whispers made for dark rooms and quiet moments. His callsign offers distance, reminds you both that what you had is in the past. Or that it should be in the past, at least.

“Kyle,” You concede tiredly. “You dickhead.”

He just hums. He knows you well enough to know that you’re not really angry; you’re not even attempting to move away from him, though you know you should. The film is mostly forgotten in the background, though you’re vaguely aware that the two characters onscreen have now progressed to confessing their love before the big final battle. You just sigh; this little romantic film moment is only going to encourage Gaz even more.

Yet still, you don’t move.

The way he’s grinding his thick cock against the swell of your ass is making your blood run hot. The pressure every time his hips roll lightly against you and the way that he uses his grip on your hips to pull you back against him is making your brain all stupid and fuzzy. It’s the only reason you can think of to explain the way you shift, the way you allow your bum to brush back against him. It earns you a soft little grunt that’s mostly muffled by the way he’s mouthing at your throat.

Oh, it would be so easy to slip the sweatpants that separates the two of you down, to allow him to slide into you. A little woozily, you think it would feel like he was coming home.

But to actually have sex feels like too much of a commitment, too confusing a step to take when things between you two were already muddled and confused enough. You’re almost afraid to even turn around to glance over your shoulder at him, as though making eye contact might mean you’ll both wake up and stop.

Gaz’s cock has gotten even harder, filling out thickly as he slots against the clothed groove of your ass. He’s not even touching your pussy, and yet your knickers are slick and sticky. It’s embarrassing at your age to be laying on the couch, watching a movie and getting dry-humped like a fucking teenager, and yet your skin feels as though it’s been lit aflame.

Then rustling fabric breaks the silence, and Gaz shifts a little behind you in an odd motion as the insistent pressure on your ass is finally relieved. In its absence, you’re almost disappointed. 

You tilt your head, just barely turning it, just enough to see that he’s just pulled out his cock.

“Kyle–”

“Sorry, baby,” He says again, panting against the side of your neck and making you shiver. “– ‘m just too hard, getting uncomfortable. Ignore it.”

Ignore it? You think, a little hysterically. The gentle rocking of his erection into your ass was one thing, but how the fuck are you supposed to ignore the fact that your ex is all pressed up against you, still holding you by the waist with one hand as the other fists at his cock.

You glance behind you and down before you can help yourself, your self-control as lacking as ever. Fuck. You’ve missed the sight of that. He has the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen, even if right now it’s flushed dark and angry and painful looking. Your mouth waters. He was obviously telling the truth when he said it was getting sore, and you feel a reluctant swell of sympathy.

“Been thinking of you for months, baby.” He murmurs, placing a wet, messy kiss on your throat. “I can’t even fucking cum properly when you’re not around, it’s not the fucking same. God, even missed the way you smell–”

As if to punctuate that, he presses his nose in your hair and inhales deeply. You know you smell like the sweet perfume you had sprayed earlier, your favourite one. You know from experience that it’s also Gaz’s favourite one. You tell yourself it’s a coincidence.

“Why didn’t you fuck someone else then? Get it out of your system?” You say, and it comes out a little harsh, a little raw. It reveals more than you want to; you feel a little ill at the thought of Gaz with some faceless girl, holding her and making her laugh, her hands touching him like you do.

If Gaz picks up on the bite in your voice, he’s kind enough to ignore it. He just huffs a quick snort like the suggestion is ridiculous, his sloppy mouthing at your neck turning into a chaste affectionate kiss that feels totally at odds with the desperate motions of his hand pumping at his cock.

“Why would I do that when I had a girl waiting for me at home?” He asks, his voice so soft with you. “Never wanted anyone else.”

Your toes curl, guilt coiling in your stomach. You hate that you feel pleased that he’s waited for you, that he doesn’t want anyone else. You’re not being fair – it had been you who had broken it off, after all. He should be able to get with whoever he wants to. Conceivably, he is allowed to. Yet you can’t pretend that you wouldn’t have been sick to your stomach if he admitted that he had. 

God, you feel like such a hypocrite. Here you are, admittedly all too happy that Gaz has stayed faithful to a relationship that isn’t even intact anymore, and there he is, having just witnessed you come home with a stranger’s hands all over you.

“We’re not together anymore.” You whisper, when what you want to say is I’m sorry.

“I know.” Gaz replies, and it sounds like For now.

It’s not a surprise when the hand on your waist slips around to your belly, and then lower again as it slips beneath the waistband of your bottoms. You try and fail to suppress the wet gasp that’s pulled from your throat when his long fingers coast over the front of your knickers, finding your clothed clit with unerring accuracy.

“Oh, lace, baby?” He says, his breath catching in his eagerness before realisation seems to set in. “Oh. This was for your little date, eh?”

The guilt again, gnawing in your chest. You arch your back, simultaneously shying away and crowding your ass back up against him. It’s mortifying, being caught with your fancy underwear beneath your baggy unflattering sweatpants by your ex-boyfriend and having him know without a shadow of a doubt that you intended them to be seen by someone else.

“I was–” You start to say breathily, but Gaz doesn’t let you finish.

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” He murmurs, his lips ghosting along the shell of your ear. “I know, I know. But he didn’t deserve it, didn’t deserve you. Jesus, he didn’t even know what he fuckin’ had, ran like a coward–”

“Gaz–” You try again. You can’t help but feel as though you need to explain yourself, like the two of you should talk this through.

“You’re so soft, Jesus Christ.” He mutters, the side of his hand rubbing at the squishy flesh of your thighs as he strokes at your clit. “Were you always this soft?”

It sounds as though he’s trying to remember, desperate and wanting. You swallow thickly, closing your eyes as that familiar pleasure licks up your spine. He knows you so well, knows every part of you and exactly how to touch you, and you can hardly believe you ever entertained letting anyone else put their hands on you.

“I got a new body oil.” You breathe, distracted by his touch. “It’s– it’s vanilla scented.”

“Yeah,” He groans, and you shiver helplessly when you feel his tongue on your neck, licking a hot stripe up to your earlobe. “I can smell it.”

His index and middle fingers are so firm on either side of your clit, rolling circles around it without actually touching you properly. You sigh, back arching, but before you can actually enjoy it his hands are pulling away.

“Wait–” You gasp, your body crying out in protest as Gaz stops, pulling his hand back out of your pants.

Gaz just grunts, kisses your neck once more, then tugs your sweatpants down. You lift your hips up immediately, thoughtlessly, and then kick your sweats and knickers off impatiently. It’s a little embarrassing, especially when the cool air hits your slick, sticky thighs and you shiver.

“Oh god, fuck,” He groans, his plush lips dragging along the sensitive skin at the back of your neck. “You’ve ruined yourself, baby.”

It’s embarrassing to admit it, but it’s true. The dry spell you’ve experienced since the breakup has been little more than a mild inconvenience for the most part, but now it feels like your body is charged like a live wire. It feels like you’ve never been touched before, and you squirm backwards in an attempt to get any kind of friction again.

“Kyle–” You start to complain, but you don’t get to finish because then Gaz is slotting his cock in between your thighs.

He groans, taking a breath as he shuffles his hips closer. His pretty, glistening cock is wedged between the soft pudge of your thighs, the head of it nudging against the wet folds of your cunt every time he twitches.

“Let me put the tip in, baby.” He says, his voice gruff and wanting in your ear. “Literally just the tip, that’s it, huh? It’s not like actual fucking, right?”

In this moment, you think you’d agree to anything to get his dick into you. You had been all kinds of wound up even before you had come home to find Gaz waiting for you, but it’s like your body had some kind of Pavlovian response to Gaz’s touch because now you’re practically panting for him.

He’s right, after all. It’s not really fucking. It means that you can maintain the flimsy thin pretence that this means nothing.

“Okay.” You manage to say, though it comes out humiliatingly breathy. “Yeah, okay, the tip–”

Gaz’s cock is pressing into you before you can even finish your sentence, bullying into the wet grasping tightness of your cunt and making you gasp. 

You’ve gone long enough without getting laid that there’s a slight sting as he presses into you, but it’s overshadowed by the breathless relief. God, you’d forgotten how fucking good his dick felt inside you. He knows just how to use it too, and you wheeze slightly as he rocks an inch inside before pulling back again.

“Oh, fuck, baby.” Gaz moans throatily, the vibration of it rumbling right down your spine. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, you’re so tight.”

“Mph,” You manage to make a muffled sort of sound against the couch cushion your face is pressed against, your mouth hanging softly open as you pant for breath.

True to his word, Gaz just presses the first inch or so inside. You almost hold your breath, waiting for the rest to slide inside and split you open, but he doesn’t. He just rocks back and forth, just missing hitting the spot inside that makes your nerves sing.

You wish, stupidly, fervently, that just this once Gaz would go back on his word. That he’d abandon his promise to just stick that first inch of his cock inside, that he’d slam home and stretch you wide and let his cock brush against the nerves just a little deeper inside you. But that’s not Gaz’s style; you know he’s not going to give you any more unless you beg for it.

Gaz rocks his hips in teeny tiny movements, just enough to have you squirming in frustration. You’re so wet that you know he could slide deeper with ease if he only just tilted his hips right, but he remains doggedly steadfast in pumping just the barest inch into you, groaning with the effort it’s taking to stop himself plunging fully inside.

“Oh god,” He breathes, sounding wrecked in your ear. “You feel even better than I remember.”

You don’t know how he can even say that when he’s barely even inside you, but no matter how much you wiggle and squirm, he just won’t slide any deeper.

“You’re such an asshole.” You slur out against the fabric of the couch, your cheek squished against the cushions. Your chin is a little wet – are you drooling?

Infuriatingly, Gaz doesn’t even argue.

“Mm.” He grunts, kissing the curve of your neck. “What’d I do this time?”

The fact that he has the gall to ask only irritates you further. You let out a quiet, grumbling noise, but his hand grips at your hip and stops you from writhing.

“Just… just put the rest of it in.” You say, craning your neck to try and look at him. 

Your eyes are wide and wet, pathetically teary. You’ve been craving intimacy like this for weeks now. Maybe longer, if you’re being honest with yourself. It’s the kind of pleasure you’ve only ever gotten from Gaz, and you wheeze as your body opens up under his touch. God, you don’t know how you thought anyone would ever be able to fuck you like Gaz does.

“Mm, you sure, baby?” He murmurs, nosing against the back of your skull. “Thought we were just cuddling.”

“Don’t be a dick.” You snap, your patience reaching the end of its tether.

He just laughs, a breathless sort of amused gasp, before snapping his hips forward in one sharp movement and seating his cock inside you. Though it’s what you had been demanding, the abruptness of it startles you and you yowl, your back arching.

“Sh, sh, shh, sorry, love.” Gaz pants, before sighing in wordless contentment as his broad chest curves around your back, his strong arm looping around your belly. “Oh, fuck. Missed this so much, you have no idea. I swear you were made for me, I couldn’t fit as well inside anyone else.”

“Just– just move.” You whine, a little plaintive. It’s humiliating how desperate you are, but there’s no turning back now. “Please, Kyle–”

Gaz pitches into movement instantly, as though he’s got something to prove. Or maybe he’s just worried that you’re going to change your mind. His hips pull back then snap forward again, and again. 

He’s so strong, his rhythm steady enough to rock you wildly back and forth on the lumpy couch cushions. You clutch at the fabric beneath you, gasping as his arm pulls you back and keeps you pinned against his hot, hard chest. 

“Oh.” You breathe, tilting your head back with a pathetic little whimper as he fucks into you from behind, the two of you plastered together like sardines in the tiny can that is your sitting room couch.

This is just what you needed, you think a little wildly. God, you’ve been craving physical touch like this for months, since the last time you had seen Gaz. It’s galling to admit that any other man is a poor substitute, unable to fill the void that your ex-boyfriend has left in your life.

“Kyle,” You whine, searching for something. You don’t even know what you’re asking for, but Gaz is as patient with you as ever.

He just hums, leaning in over your shoulder and pressing hot, hungry kisses along your jawline where it’s exposed as you lean your head back. The arm that’s been wrapped around your belly coasts lower, until his big lovely hand is pressed against your cunt. His fingers search for your clit and find it easily, confident and familiar enough with your body that he barely even has to try to make you feel good. 

Gaz coos soothingly at you and rolls your clit between his fingers as his thrusts begin to come faster and harder; he builds up a steady rhythm, one that lets him sink as deep inside of you as possible and quickly renders you speechless. The living room is soon filled with wet slapping sounds from where Gaz is pounding into you from behind, the grunts and pants and moans that both of you make rapidly drowning out the stupid action sequence playing out on the television from the long forgotten film.

Unbelievably, you feel a sweet stirring in your lower belly already. It’s with a sense of tired resignation that you acknowledge you’re going to come on Gaz’s dick, despite your original intentions for the evening. Typical. 

But he’s not going to last either, judging by the strained moans in your ear.

“Shit,” He curses, and then his teeth sink into the side of your neck. You shudder, the feeling of him sucking a harsh hickey into your throat sending electric sparks racing through your nerves.

You think, judging from the desperate edge to Gaz’s humping into you from behind, that Gaz has been yearning in your absence in the same way you have for him. You’re biting on your lip hard in an effort to stifle the plaintive, wanting little moans that are threatening to spill over, but your attempts at quieting yourself are mostly unsuccessful. It makes you feel a little crazy, but Gaz doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, the evidence that you want him too only seems to encourage him. 

Your eyes are half-closed as you fuck your hips back on Gaz’s cock, relishing the satisfied little cries he’s emitting into the back of your neck. You clutch clumsily at the strong arm he has wrapped around your belly, crying out yourself as the head of his cock hits that one spot inside you that makes you feel gooey inside. Your toes curl as your head tips back, your skull neatly cradled in the space between Gaz’s head and the couch cushions as he peppers kisses along the side of your neck.

The wet slapping of your bodies colliding is obscene in the quiet of the room; the stupid film still playing does nothing to drown it out. Your body is as limp and relaxed as a doll, allowing him to fuck into you from behind in a frenzy. Right now, you can’t even recall why you ever would have tried to deny yourself this pleasure in the first place.

His hips clap against your ass, those wet sounds getting even louder and more obscene than ever. Gaz is viscerally pleased with the way your ass bounces every time he fucks into you, because he moans and picks up the pace as if he just wants to watch your glutes jiggle every time his hips slap against you. 

That familiar ball of tension starts tightening in your abdomen, your body winding up for a long-awaited and much needed release. It’s so typical that this orgasm feels like it’s going to be a big one too, as though your body needed Gaz to be there to guide you through it in order to achieve proper satisfaction.

But then, in a move so infuriating you almost burst into tears, Gaz pulls out and leaves you high and dry.

“No!” You blurt, and it comes out almost as a wail. “What are you doing?”

“Sorry, baby.” Gaz says a little breathlessly. “Need you to turn over. Want to see you.”

As soon as you realise that he’s not trying to stop and that he’s just trying to reposition you, you’re quick to roll over so that you’re facing him. It seems like that’s exactly what he wanted, because he grins wide and reaches for your hips, eagerly pulling you closer.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty.” He mumbles, his eyes like warm caramelised honey as they track over your face. 

You’re pretty sure he’s full of shit; you’re panting like you’ve run a marathon, you’re sweaty, your hair is dishevelled, and you’re still wearing the ugly sweatshirt you had put on earlier. Yet, even still, Gaz’s genuine little compliment has your heart flipping in your ribcage.

You can’t help but think that you and Gaz are like feral little animals right now. You can barely keep your hands off each other; now that you’ve rolled over to face him, his hands are roaming over your hips and ass like he’s trying to memorise the feel of you by touch alone. 

Embarrassingly, you’re no better – you lunge forward to kiss him, taking advantage of your new position, and he kisses you back hungrily.

Lying sideways on the couch like this is cramped, but Gaz uses his hand on your ass to tug you closer. Then he reaches down, long fingers gripping at your thigh before he pulls it up so that your leg is hitched over his hip.

Oh no, You barely have time to think it before his cock is pressing into you again, the slide made easy this time. Too intimate!

The panicked thought is swiftly dispelled the moment Gaz starts moving again, because goddamn this position is so much better. It’s almost difficult to tell where Gaz ends and you begin, so intertwined are your bodies. Gaz barely even allows for an inch of space. He fucks into you almost as soon as he’s pulled back, making for a fast, frantic pace that barely even gives you a chance to breathe.

You squeal, but your noises are half-moans as you rock your hips mindlessly into his rough, almost animalistic thrusts. Your leg hitched over his hip means that he’s grinding into you deep, deeper than you thought was possible. 

The way the two of you are fucking feels a little bit unhinged, rutting and humping your bodies together in search of mutual pleasure. It should be clumsy and graceless, yet somehow it feels good, as though your body remembers exactly how good Gaz has always treated you, as though your whole being is having a Pavlovian response to his touch. Pleasure burns in your gut, tight and hot, and you moan stupidly as Gaz pounds into you.

“Oh god.” You say without meaning to. The sound of your voice shocks you; you sound wrecked, as though you’ve been fucking for hours. It would have been embarrassing to reveal just how affected you were if Gaz wasn’t also clearly just as eager for it.

“Yeah,” He says, a hybrid of a groan and a gasp muffled against your lips as he clutches at your ass and drives into you wildly. “Fuck, I’m gonna come.”

You are too, you realise wildly. You’re struck by how quickly you’ve both gotten to this point. This whole encounter has been frenzied and feverish, as though the poorly stifled desire between you had turned explosive. 

Gaz kisses you again, and his teeth clack against yours slightly as he licks into your mouth. It’s messy and wet, and it sends a delicious throb of pleasure shooting through your belly. He’s acting so possessive that it’s making your head spin. It should definitely be sending warning bells ringing in your head, or red alarms flashing in your minds eye – it can’t be a good thing that your ex-boyfriend is currently fucking you on your couch like he’s trying to claim you. But you’re apparently a little stupid and very weak, and Gaz has always known how to fuck you dopey and thoughtless. Instead of worry, you get the edges of an orgasm beginning to fizz in your peripheral awareness.

Your pussy must flutter or tighten around him as that lovely sweet promise of release edges closer, because Gaz moans in anticipation and his eager thrusts take on an edge of purpose. You almost protest when he breaks off the kiss, but then you realise that he just wants to be able to focus on keeping his rhythm steady. It’s frenzied and hot, and you swear the air itself is crackling as he kisses sloppily at your neck and fucks you hard.

“Love you,” He slurs in your ear, breathless. “Love you so much, baby.”

His thrusts turn more shallow and far more forceful the closer he gets. Little moans and whines escape his lips between kisses, the sounds ratcheting up in intensity as the two of you rut together.

“Tell me you love me,” He pleads, “Please— tell me you fuckin’ love me, baby. I know you do. I know you—”

You shouldn’t say it. You can’t say it. Yet his cock is fucking you sloppy and stupid, and your mouth moves before you even register that you’re speaking.

“Love you too,” You whimper like a pathetic little idiot, revelling in the exquisite feeling of him grinding against your g-spot just right. It feels so good, you know you’re so, so close to orgasm.

The ache in your abdomen persists— you clench tightly around his cock, your body straining as the muscles in your core clench, trying so hard to push yourself closer to the orgasm you know is coming. You’re so close, so so close— it burns, aches, drives you mad. All you can do is mewl, wrapping your arms around his muscled shoulders as he pounds into you despite the awkward angle.

You can feel your clit throbbing, pulsing, your entire body trying so goddamn hard to climax that you feel like you’re about to cry. You’re burning beneath your skin and all you want to do is gnash your teeth into the elegant line of Gaz’s throat, to leave some kind of indelible mark on his lovely smooth skin.

“Please, please, please— yes, fuck— oh, Kyle,” Your words come out on the breath of an uneven gasp, stuttering with each movement of his hips, perfectly synchronized. 

His voice is low and hot in your ear as he pants, “Let me come inside you, baby— let me, please— fuck.”  

You should say no. Every logical part of you knows that you should tell him to pull out, and yet the wires are crossed when it comes to your actual response. Your leg tightens around his waist, heart seizing in protest at the idea of him pulling out.

“Yes.” You gasp, continuing your streak of impulsive decision-making. Your own hips twitch forward in weak little humps in an effort to fuck yourself onto his cock, your clit grinding against the dark curls at his pubic bone. “Yes, inside, please–”

Your breathy, eager permission seems to give him a burst of energy. He picks up the pace, his body curving into you as his arms wrap around you in a tight embrace. It feels as though your entire world has been narrowed down to Gaz, his broad shoulders blocking out your view of the rest of the room. You cling to him, breathless and messy as you whimper like a loser, your body trembling from the toe-curling zings of pleasure that keep shooting up your spine.

“Oh, oh.. Kyle, please–” You practically sob, your fingernails digging harshly into his shoulders. “Love you, love you, oh my god, I’m gonna come–”

Gaz grunts, obviously eager as his movements grow thoughtful and determined. He knows exactly what you want, what you need at this moment. His abdominal muscles tense and flex with every calculated, deliberate thrust. There is no way to escape the length of him moving hard and thick inside you – not that you want to escape so much as a second of it, of course.

“That’s my girl, always so fucking perfect.” He snarls as your body eagerly takes every dirty roll of his hips, palming at your thigh where it’s hitched over his hip. “Fuckin’ Christ, I’ve been dreaming of your cunt for fucking months, never wanted anything else–”

It makes no sense. Absolutely no sense, that those bizarre, lust-crazed possessive words are what drag you trembling, screaming over the crest of an orgasm so intense the walls of the room white out, each sweeping pulse leaving you unable to do anything but clench and shudder and arch beneath him.

Gaz fucks you like a damn machine; he gives you long, deep strokes over and over as you’re falling apart. Your body seizes around the hot flesh of Gaz’s cock, your mind going white as your cunt spasms, your hole clamping down and pulsing with every desperate, loud moan torn from your mouth. 

You feel like a sloppy little slut, your hips jerking towards him instead of away even as your orgasm washes through you and leaves your body tender and oversensitive. It feels so damn good to feel your mind washing blank and clear, not a single thought taking hold. 

When the toe-curling height of pleasure subsides, you find your nerves frayed and hyper-sensitive. A plaintive whine breaks out of your throat as Gaz keeps fucking you, beginning to thrust up frantically into your twitching pussy. Your body falls limp as Gaz bounces your pliable, warm body up and down his cock as he groans into your ear.

It’s like the rhythmic tightening of your drooling, creaming cunt has him losing his mind, because he grabs the meat of your hips and begins jerking your limp body back towards him. The slap slap slap! of the impact is so loud that every slap makes your breath catch.

“Fuck. I'm—” Your hands slap clumsily at his shoulders, reaching for anything to hold on to, but he doesn’t stop. "Kyle. Kyle—" It’s just your voice, hoarse, breathless, and Gaz bearing down on you, the sound of your bodies somehow growing sloppier, messier as he fucks you and it’s uncompromising, just skirting the edge of painfully overwhelming—

He breaks, shoulders trembling, head bowed into the curve of your neck as he lets out a long, desperate moan. It’s a drawn out, rough groan that is more sob than pleasure, and then you feel him inside you, spilling red hot and wet. Your own orgasm still isn’t fully finished, rolling leisurely through you in little aftershocks, your body still tightening and shivering, and it goes on and on and on.

He holds on to you throughout, as if he’s worried he’ll blow away into the wind without anchoring himself to you. His hips slow, but don’t fully stop. He rolls his hips into you slowly, leisurely, as though he has all the time in the world as he shivers in his come down. You blink, waiting for the colour to bleed back into your vision and for the ringing in your ears to stop, and for the first time all night you’re not thinking about anything at all.

“Please, Kyle.” You slur out stupidly. You have no idea what you’re even asking for; there’s just some vague, barely formed desperation floating around your painfully blank mind as you search for something.

“Mm.” Gaz hums. It feels like he’s everywhere, his broad chest filling up your sight and enveloping you. His hands roam over your body: the backs of your thighs, squeezing as his hands drift over your ass, up and down your back, your neck, his fingers catching around the thin strands of hair and the back of your neck, until finally he settles his fingers on your cheeks.

His palms stay there, just cupping your cheeks as the two of you struggle to regulate your breathing and regain your composure. That antsy sense of desperation eases a little when he leans in to nuzzle fondly at your face, dropping sweet little kisses along your cheeks and nose.

Gaz’s chest rumbles with a low, lovely laugh, his voice gravelly from his climax. “You’re overflowing, sweetheart.”

You let out a careless little sigh, before relaxing experimentally. You can feel a gush of warm seed begin to ooze out around Gaz’s cock, spilling out of your entrance and coating his balls. You wriggle lazily, cunt still pulsing as your wildly beating heart gradually slows to a lazy flutter.

You think you should probably be panicking now. You’ve just fucked your ex, told him you loved him, then let him come inside. With no condom. God, you’re stupid. But the wave of horror you’re expecting never comes. You feel too floaty to care; you suspect if it was anyone other than Gaz, the mortification would have knocked into you like a sledgehammer. 

“You’re gonna get cum on the couch.” You complain, the words coming out clumsy on your tongue.

Gaz just snorts. He makes no effort to pull out, and you have no desire to push him away. The intimacy of your sweat-slick skin pressed together is enough to take your breath away, and it’s only further compounded by the sensation of his cock gradually softening inside you.

“I’ll get it cleaned, love.” He drawls lazily, leaning in to kiss your swollen lips. “Or pay for a new one. Whichever you want.”

When you kiss him back he sighs fondly, one thumb stroking over your cheekbone. You’re still limp in his arms, boneless and spent as you wriggle greedily into his arms. His cock is still lodged inside you, and you’re sure he must be getting uncomfortably sensitive but to your relief he just moans in quiet appreciation when you try to worm your way closer.

“You made a mess.” You mumble against his lips. 

You’re being a little unfair, considering your own slick is coating your thighs and Gaz’s lower belly, but Gaz has always rolled with even the most unreasonable attitude you’ve thrown his way. So he just chuckles, and you feel a little insane as you wonder if anyone else would ever be as patient with you.

“Think we both did, doll.” He murmurs fondly. He leans in and catches your lips with his again, kissing you slowly with a lazy, lewdly open mouth. One hand curls against the nape of your neck, the other hand reaching up beneath your sweater and curling possessively against your left tit, sweeping over your sluggish, sated heartbeat.

You feel practically brainless after your orgasm, relaxed and loose in Gaz’s arms. There’s something to be said for how safe you feel with him, as much as you’d like to deny it, but reality is starting to slowly sink in.

You pull away from his mouth to try and collect yourself, unable to think when he’s kissing you like that. 

“Fuck.” You breathe, closing your eyes with a sigh. It’s slow, but you’re finally starting to think again. “We shouldn’t– we should have used a condom.”

Gaz’s eyes are lidded with fond amusement as he watches you quietly. His hand kneads at your breast absent-mindedly, as though he’s forgotten that he’s groping at you. 

“Don’t overthink it,” He murmurs, kissing your forehead again. “I saw your box of pills in the bathroom. And I’m clean. Haven’t been with anyone but you.”

You tremble a little at his admission, your fingers digging into his shoulders. You feel like you’re losing your mind. Gaz is the most beautiful man you’ve ever met, funny and sweet and always so caring. You love him, even if it kills you a little to admit it, and you don’t know how to respond to his admission that he’s been faithful to you during the long months you weren’t together.

Gaz misinterprets whatever expression is on your face, thumb stroking soothingly over your cheek again. “We can get you a morning-after pill, if it’ll make you feel better.”

You don’t bother correcting him. You’re not that fussed over the morning-after pill – you’re careful when it comes to your birth control, and Gaz had always cum inside you when you were together. The weight of his cock inside you is comforting almost, the wet slide of his cum dripping out of you makes you feel as though you’d never been apart in the first place. You wonder how you could ever have been thick enough to think that someone else could fill Gaz’s place in your life.

As if he knows what you’re thinking, Gaz’s lips twitch. “That pillock you brought home would’ve been such a disappointment, darling.”

You can’t stop your eyes from rolling, exasperated. 

“You don’t know that.” You grumble, though you don’t pull away. You’re still all curled up against his chest, skin still slick and sticky from rapidly cooling sweat, your leg still slung over Gaz’s hip to keep his now-soft cock nestled inside you.

“Sure I do.” He says, and that cocky arrogance that both drives you mad and makes you swoon is rearing its head. He reaches down, and his thick fingers roll over your much-too-sensitive clit. “She missed me, gorgeous. Don’t think she would have liked some strange tosser pounding away at her with no idea how to please her.”

The way he talks about your pussy as though it has its own thoughts and feelings has you rolling your eyes again, though your cheeks burn with embarrassment. To your immense irritation, you think he might have a point. You haven’t come that hard in months, not since the breakup.

“Oh, shut up.” You sigh tiredly.

He snickers, and then shifts. It takes you a moment to realise that he’s pulling his hips back preparing to pull out. Your brain stalls, and you wrap your arms around his neck and shoulders in protest. You’re not ready to feel the invasive, aching emptiness that will no doubt throb through your core as soon as he’s not filling you up. 

“Stay.” You say, and it comes out as an embarrassingly breathy little plea.

Gaz goes practically limp, as though your hoarse request had taken the wind right out of him. You’re not expecting the way he brings both arms around your waist before rolling over onto his back, hauling you up to lay over his chest. His cock remains firmly lodged inside you, though the movement has resulted in his white creamy spend leaking out onto your inner thighs.

“Not going nowhere.” He mumbles, one hand stroking over your flank to soothe you. “I’m on leave for at least a month.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” Gaz hums. He must sense that this is a delicate moment, because he doesn’t make any ribald jokes about having all month to fuck you like you’re expecting him to. He just presses a tender kiss to your temple, his lips lingering gently.

Usually, you’d probably be a little embarrassed by how clingy you’re being. You had been so damn determined not to fall into bed with Gaz after the breakup, but you’re so, so weak. His stupid honey brown eyes and gorgeous dimples and crooked grin is enough to send you to your knees. You rest your forehead against his chest as he holds you close; at least like this, you can’t see his stupid handsome face.

He’s obviously pleased with the way you’re snuggling into him, because his chest rumbles as he hums in satisfaction. He’s holding you tight like he thinks you’re going to slip away the moment he blinks.

“You okay?” He asks quietly.

You don’t answer immediately. There’s no way to brush this under the carpet, or to go back to pretending at detached disinterest. If you had wanted to play this off as just a bit of stress relief, then you should have rolled away from him the second he’d spilled inside of you rather than cuddling with him on the couch. There’s no way that you can claim that this was just a case of needing to get laid; you’re still clutching at him like a limpet, the two of you intertwined so tight that it’s difficult to tell when your limbs end and Gaz’s begin.

“I’m tired.” You sigh eventually, sidestepping the conversation that you know you’ll have to deal with eventually.

No doubt Gaz notices your not particularly subtle avoidance, but he doesn’t comment. He seems quite happy to indulge your every whim; he probably wants to avoid the this-was-a-mistake-and-we-need-to-maintain-boundaries conversation even more than you do.

“Let’s get you to bed then,” He murmurs, and then he surprises you by sitting up. You’re still laid out across his chest, which means that when he shimmies up into a sitting position, you end up sitting sprawled in his lap.

You’re still speared a little awkwardly on his soft cock, the sensation of him inside you making your eyelids flutter a little. You feel satisfied, your muscles still watery and weak, and you sigh a little mournfully when Gaz finally pulls his cock out of you. You ache, a deep throb that both stokes and settles you. It’s like a comfortable little reminder that Gaz was here, and that he left his mark on you.

You can feel the way he leans back just to get a glimpse of his spend trickling down the inside of your thigh. You pout and bury your face into his throat, your arms wrapped tight around his shoulders still as you try to hide your sudden self-consciousness.

But Gaz isn’t interested in giving you a moment to hide. You feel the edge of his teeth ghost the shell of your ear before he speaks, just low enough to make you shiver.

“Let me take you out tomorrow, sweetheart.” He says, and beneath his usual cocky countenance you hear the edge of a plea. “I’ll make up for ruining your date tonight. You can wear that little dress from earlier for me again.”

You feel exposed, stripped bare as you perch in Gaz’s lap. His hand strokes evenly over your spine, waiting patiently for your response.

“I want a fancy dinner.” You mumble, your fingers curling around his shoulders. “At a nice restaurant.”

You hear a shaky little exhale, and Gaz’s arms tighten around your waist. It strikes you that he’s relieved, and you feel your heart tremble in response. The knowledge that he wants you still is enough to have your own lungs seizing in response; you can’t quite bear to wonder if you’ve been wasting time for these past few months that you’ve been broken up. 

“Whatever you want.” He says it like a prayer, tilting his head in search of your lips again.

The kiss is easy, the months that you’ve been apart dissolving into nothing. You’re a little too stubborn to give in entirely and beg for him back just yet though, but you doubt it matters. You’ve already admitted your weakness for him in the middle of shagging, and you’re not stupid enough to hope that he’s somehow forgotten it. You’ve been trying so hard to shove all those feelings down deep, but you’re not too surprised that they’ve all come bubbling out. He’s got a month of leave. You have no doubt that he’s going to use that time to change your mind. You find that you don’t mind the idea as much as you thought you might; you suspect that you can be swayed all too easily.

You peek up at him, only to come face to face with his sweet, hopeful deep brown eyes. He’s not pushing, but you can see the weight of desire and yearning in every inch of his face. No doubt it’s mirrored on your own. You don’t think you could ever look into his pretty face and deny him anything.

You hum, then whisper the only answer you could ever give.

“Yeah. Okay. It’s a date, then.”

they really put their whole pussy into animating john price in mw3. every single pore, every follicle of hair. the faintest hint of a blush on his cheeks and nose when they're out in the cold. meanwhile half the time soap looks like a fucking Sim

I’m at a gamestop and I saw my pookies✨🥺

NSFW MDNI!

TW-Possessiveness, Semi-public fingering

Everyone thinks that Soap or Price would be the most possesive teammate on the 141 but really it would be Gaz.

The way he he’d drape his jacket over your shoulders when he sees anyone looking at you. He’d stare down the man pulling you closer to him as you snuggle into his arms. He’d leave his shirts and accessories at your home with the hope that you wear it out.

Eventually in your relationship you would be invited to have a pint or two with his teammates. You happily accepted wanting to meet the men he trusts his life with. Immediately you go to look for some outfits to wear but he stops you holding up his sweatshirt with his last name printed on the back.

“You should wear this babe it’ll be much more comfortable”, he says with a soft smile.

You smile happy knowing that he wants you to be comfortable, that you don’t have to dress up for him but theres much more to it than that. His mates have seen many photos of his darling but he needs to show them who you belong to.

When the two of you arrive at the bar he has his hand firmly on your hip as he introduces his friends to you. Their eyes are all on you, you’re more pretty than in person. Kyle sits next to John in the small booth and insists that you sit on his lap, smirking at Johnny across the booth.

The conversations between you and the others are pleasant not seeing Kyles glares at the men, especially Soap. You never once leave Kyles side and as you speak you feel his hands massaging your thigh. As the night goes on you feel his hand slowly go higher and higher, you slap his hand not wanting to make the men at the table uncomfortable.

You whip your head towards Kyle whispering in his ear,

“Watch your hand Kyle”

“I just want to make you feel good love, ‘sides I bet my mates would love a show from you”

“Theres people here we cant do this in public!”

“Look ‘round theres no one here beside the bartender and he’s busy on his phone. Let me make you feel good yeah?”

Before you’re able to protest his hand drifts below your pants and his finger finds your clit softly rubbing it in circles. Your head leans back as you sigh in pleasure, he lowers to nip at your neck.

“Gonna be a good girl for me babe and show them how good you are f’me?”

You look up and see there eyes boring into you, entranced by the thought of seeing you come undone before their very eyes. Ghosts eyes are clouded with a haze of lust, Johnny is practically salivating, and Prices face is flushed.

Price leans over to you putting a hand on your thigh.

“C’mon love give us a show, I know you’ve been treating your boy well. We wan’t to see what got him so worked up”

Kyle grabs Johns hand tightly looking him dead in the eyes.

“Captain, as much as I respect you don’t touch my girl.”

John looks a little surprised but nods giving him a smile.

“An’ that goes for all of you, look don’t touch”

Johnnys eyes open wide ready to object but Kyle cuts him off.

“No if ands or buts Mactavish. Your not touching my girl, so either leave the booth or sit there and enjoy the view”

You’ve never seen Kyle so possessive over you in your whole relationship but you find it so sexy. You bite your lip in an attempt to stop the moan coming out of your mouth. Kyles full attention goes back to you, his hands slowly move down your stomach.

“You like that hm? You like that your mine yeah?”

“Mhm I do”, you say shakily feeling his hand work your clit again.

“Good girl, are you gonna sing for me baby?”

A moan cuts off your answer as his fingers start to go faster. Your head starts to feel fuzzy at the pleasure building up in your body but suddenly it stops. You whine at the loss and look up at him saddened but he only tuts in response.

“You need to answer me baby, show me that your a good girl”

“Yes, yes, fuck I-I will!”

You gasp as his fingers start to move yet again. Moans fall from your lips not caring about how loud you are now enjoying the pleasure that your boyfriend is giving you.

The men around you palm their cocks over their pants watching you writhe in his lap. You couldn’t care about them totally focused on Kyle only. Kyle only smiles seeing that your lost in pleasure. His fingers leave your clit and stars teasing your hole.

“Johnny you need to find a girl like mine.”

You gasp feeling his fingers enter you, your head feels so fuzzy falling deeper into pleasure. You rest your head on his shoulder moaning as you feel his fingers drag against your walls.

“Shes so sweet and soft, you keep finding your ‘bonnie’ at bars and clubs but thats not a place where you can find a girl you can keep”

A warmth starts building up in your stomach feeling your orgasm quickly approaching. Kyles fingers thrust faster as he feels your walls start to tighten.

“You gonna cum baby hm? Tell me whos making you cum, tell me whos the only that can make you feel like this”

“You! You Kyle you’re making me feel so fucking good oh my god! Fuck!”

“Cum for me baby”

Your orgasm hits you, your vision is filled with white, your breath is shaky feeling fully satiated.

“Good girl”

Kyle kisses your temple slowly slipping out his fingers, you whimper from the stimulation slouching against his chest. Kyle takes his fingers coated with your slick into his mouth moaning at the taste. He licks the slick off his fingers as the others stare it him in shock and jealousy.

“You doin ok love?”

“Mhm, I’m ok but I want more baby”

“Your insatiable love”, Kyle says with a gentle chuckle.

He gently lifts you in his arms out of the booth ready to get home to give you everything you need.

“Alright then, I’ll see you next week mates I gotta take care of my darling girl here”

You giggle a little still feeling fuzzy from your orgasm.

“It was nice meeting you boys”

With that Kyle walks out with you in his arms ready to ravage you when you get home.

if this does perhaps trigger you or go against your guidelines please ignore this, but mayhaps I request a fic where it’s a beach day for the tf141 + reader and the reader doesn’t go in the water because of their hidden scars they have on their arms and they don’t show it until their buttoned up beach sweater falls a bit and it shows them their scarred arms?

Oh no it doesnt trigger me or go against my guidelines! Thank you so much for the request I really appreciate it!❤️

I’m sorry for the wait btw I’ve been busy with work but I really hope you still enjoy this story anon!

TW: unspecified scars on arms, low self esteem

Poly!TF141 x GN!Reader

A little bit of angst but mainly fluffy💗

Nicknames used: mo graidh, love, doll

For the first time in forever everyone’s leave of absence is at the same time. Your excited ready to rest after such a long hard op and so is the rest of the team. Despite your protest everyone has decided to go to the beach for a whole day.

As you sit on the beach you make sure your light jacket stays in place not wanting it to slip off. The heat is unbearable even while finding shelter under a colorful umbrella. You sit on an old scratchy beach towel watching your loved ones frolic in the waves.

You’re a new part of the polycule with them and it’s your first time ever being in a polygamous relationship. They’ve never seen the long gashes on your arms knowing they will only find them disgusting. Even though they have scars it makes them so much more sexy, for you though they were ugly splotches of damaged skin.

Johnny comes out of the water soaked to the bone, his mohawk plastered to the side of his face. His smile is brighter than the sun as he trudges through sand to your beach towel haven.

“Mo gràdh what are ye doin under tha’ umbrella? I don’ wan’ ye ta miss out on all tha fun”

“I’m just not really in the mood to swim today”, you say bashfully not wanting to say the true reason.

Johnny leans in a little closer his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes softening.

“Are yeh sure? Its steamin’ hot outside an’ I don’ wan’ yeh to get sick. If theres a reason ye can tell me ah wont tell a soul”

You look at him your heart pounding in your chest anxious to tell him the truth, ready for the weight on your shoulders to be lifted.

“I’ve been anxious about-“

Out of nowhere a ball hits Johnny square in the head. Your train of thought is completely derailed as Johnny’s face hits the sand.

“Oh my god! Johnny are you ok?”

You look around to see Kyle cringing at the scene with Ghost next to him and John on the other side of a net.

“Sorry mate didn’t mean to hit you!”, Kyle yells out.

Johnny pops up with a grimace on his face, your resolve dissolves after.

“What were ya saying after a very rude interruption?”

You laugh half heartedly, “just don’t worry about it, lets join them yeah?” It just isnt the right time, it’ll happen eventually right?

You stand up grabbing onto Johnnys arm and yank him up to his feet. You grab the volley ball and toss it Ghost happily.

After a long time of playing the sun is beating down on you. The heat is smothering and the sweat accumulating under your hoodie is making you go mad. They don’t seem like they are close to stopping and you don’t want to ruin the fun so you keep pushing yourself to the utter limit.

“Hey can we take a break for a moment, I just want to have a quick drink”

“Of course ye can love its not like we’re gonna yell at ye for it. How about we all take a break then we’ll start back up again, “John says with a wide smile

The others nod in agreement their skin flushed and their hair soaked with sweat. The water bottle is your holy grail, you chug it like theres no tomorrow. Once your done you crumple it up feeling only a little bit better but it doesnt gove you relief. The fabric clings to you and no matter how much water or wind there is, it wont give you relief like taking it off.

You don’t see that behind you, they are worried for you. With brows furrowed and hushed whispers they send Ghost to get to the bottom of this.

As you sit in the sand grabbing another water bottle you feel a hand on your shoulder. Its heavy and calloused but it gives you some peace.

“Love y’need to take off the jacket”, Ghost says quietly.

His hands gently wrap around the jacket pulling it down your shoulders. Despite you not wanting him to see you dont have the energy to push him away. His hands gently coax your arms from the sleeves, you flush in shame of the scars on your arms.

Ghost looks you in the eyes and you brace yourself for yelling, laughing, just something horrible to happen.

Instead you feel his hand gentle on your arms his thumbs running over the scars. His brown eyes are soft despite the furrow in his brow.

“Why didn’t you show us earlier?”, his voice as soft as it can be.

Your eyes start to water, looking away you wipe your tears and say quietly, “I-I thought you all wouldnt want me, I thought y-you would think I was ugly with all these scars”

You sniffle holding back the tears, Ghost pulls you in for a deep hug letting you spill your tears.

“Your absolutely beautiful hon we wouldn’t want you any other way scarred or unscarred”

As you burrow your head into his neck he waves the team over to help comfort you. The team sits kn the large towel around you concerned for your wellbeing. Kyle sits next to you, his hand smoothing over your back.

“hey, you doin ok babe? Whats wrong?”

You only burrow further into Ghost not wanting to say it. He sighs rubbing your neck as he quietly says, “She has a couple scars on her arms an’ she thinks shes not good looking”

Johnny immediately pops up outraged at you thinking your not the most beautiful person walking on this earth. A glare from Ghost and Price shuts him up before he said anything stupid.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry for hiding this from you guys. I was scared that if you saw me like this you wouldnt want me anymore”

Kyle keeps rubbing your back leans towards your ear, “Hon listen to me, you are the most beautiful person we’ve ever met. We would never want you in our life and we would never ever judge you for your scars”

You lift your head from Ghosts neck sniffling and rubbing the tears from your eyes, “Really?”

“Yes really love, I mean we all have scars. Johnny has one from fighting from a chicken and losing”

“AH DIDNAE LOSE AH WAS BEIN MAULED AN’ SURVIVED!”, Johnny yells angrily.

Despite your insecurities you laugh at his outburst, seeing your bright smile Johnny calms down a little more punching Kyle in the arm jokingly.

All of you sit together talking about the scars on each of your bodies and it makes you feel less insecure and more close to your boyfriends.

John stands up with sweat on his brow, “the sun is still beating down on us I think I’m gonna take a swim”

He reaches his hand to you with a soft smile on his face, “Wanna join us doll”

You look up at him unsure before taking his hand being lifted from the sand and saying happily, “alright sounds like fun”

The boys jump off the towel heading towards the ocean dragging you in.

New Years Eve Drabble/Thoughts

Imagine your at the base with the 141 on New Year’s Eve watching the ball go down with each hour. You don’t voice your thoughts to your teammates but you wish that you’d have at least someone to share a kiss with when the clock strikes midnight. As the night goes on and the drinks are plenty the clock strikes midnight. Everyone says happily “Happy New Years!” Before you can say anything, four lips are on your face kissing your cheeks, forehead, and neck. Your cheeks flush as you look up at Price, Gaz, Soap, and Ghost.

Gaz looks at you with a cheeky smirk, “Just for luck love. Now tell us, who do you want as your new year’s kiss.”

🌷SEND THIS TO OTHER BLOGGERS YOU THINK ARE WONDERFUL. KEEP THE GAME GOING 💗✨✨🫶🏻

AJSJFKDKKSKAKDKDKDKD HOLY SHIT MY HEART MAY HAVE EXPLODED (*'▽'*)