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imrowanartist · 7 days

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How about some Rosie AU?

Kyle and John are back from the hospital with baby Rosie and trying to readjust to a life with a newborn. A night time feeding turns into an opportunity to reminisce and dance.

Tags: implied trans pregnancy, tooth-rotting fluff, slow dancing, newborn baby things. Continues under the cut.

In the past two weeks Kyle has become so good at warming up the baby bottle that he should list it on his CV at this point. Apply for a promotion. He can see the title, Captain Baby Formula. The Milk General. He’d finally outrank John.

Rosie huffs quietly as she drinks, eyes drooping a little as she greedily chugs down the formula. Kyle has found that she fusses less when he walks around a little, and tonight their nightly wanderings have found them in the kitchen. The microwave clock shows 3:14 in the morning. This used to be the worst night watch during missions… Something in the hours between 3 and 5 in the morning killed the soul. It was impossible to sleep after the watch was over, and if you woke up after 2, it was pointless to try and go back to sleep – you’d just have to gather yourself and turn into a person who could keep watch for two hours and still be trusted with a firearm.

Kyle doesn’t know if this is any easier. At least he’s not expected to snipe enemies at this hour, but he’s instead trying to feed a newborn and that feels somehow equally, if not more, daunting.

He barely notices when John passes them on his way to the loo, they just nod at each other like colleagues, and Kyle doesn’t question why he’s awake. Both of their sleep schedules have been fucked beyond recognition – at some point they’d dreamed of doing this in shifts, so that one of them could catch some shut-eye in-between feedings. That dream was immediately shattered as they came home with the baby, because Rosie does not really give a shit about their set schedules and both John and Kyle are light sleepers from years of missions out in the field… but it is also nice to have someone awake with you, Kyle has found.

It reminds him of the times they’d keep night watch during missions. Before they’d stumbled into bed with each other, before secret kisses out of sight, they’d often sat together watching the sun rise and fall. Sharing a smoke, exchanging stories from their times in training and service, Kyle remembers those moments when he would sneak glances at John, watch his face in the changing light; how the burning feeling inside him yearned to reach out and touch, to follow the frown wrinkling his brow with his fingertips, to muss his hair once the bloody hat came off. He started carrying a lighter with him soon enough, just to have the excuse to keep those moments going. He’d watch John in the glow of the struggling flame as he lit his cigar. At some point, John started looking back and Kyle would concentrate on the glowing embers of the cigar instead, feeling like he was aflame as well.

Rosie coughs a little and Kyle is brought back to the moment in a snap. She doesn’t even cry, just attacks the bottle again with new fervour and Kyle sighs in relief. He really doesn’t have the energy to deal with her crying right now. Rosie merely sighs like she’s been working a tough 9 to 5 at the office – though Kyle guesses that growing is a hard job in itself. He squeezes her a little closer in his arms and she gives him a confused side-eye.

God, he loves her.

Rosie doesn’t react to the sound of the toilet flushing or the sink running as John washes his hands. Kyle listens as John carefully opens the door, doing his best not to make too much noise. To his surprise, John doesn’t immediately beeline back to bed to try and sleep a bit more before Rosie wakes them again but instead joins them. He plasters himself against Kyle’s back and hums some form of greeting which had ceased to be English about two feedings ago.

“Hi,” Kyle whispers and smiles when John’s hands find their way to his hips, the touch light but needy nonetheless.

“Mmh,” John murmurs back, the low bass of his voice resonating in Kyle’s chest. He presses a dry kiss against the nape of Kyle’s neck, and then hooks his chin over Kyle’s shoulder to look at Rosie. “Alright?”

“All clear. She’s being very good.”

“Takes after her father, I see.”

“And who is that a compliment to, hm?”

Kyle feels rather than hears John’s quiet chuckle andresists squirming when John’s cold nose nuzzles against his skin. He can’t help his smile breaking into a giddy sort of grin when John kisses his neck again, then another spot as if it’s imperative, and then Rosie makes a noise that captures their attention again.

“No distractions at mealtime,” Kyle chastises him with a whisper.

“I was being bad,” John admits, sounding sufficiently pathetic and apologetic as he addresses her, “but sweetheart, you must understand… when someone looks this lovely, it’s hard to resist.”

Rosie, their new overlord and ruler of attention, squints at them as she drinks, and Kyle has to bite his lip not to let the laugh bubbling in his chest out.

“She looks quite put off… You might need another strategy to be forgiven,” he says softly. John is so warm against his back, he can’t help but lean into him and enjoy the closeness. John’s chest against his back is steady, rising and falling with his calm breaths, and in that moment, cuddled against John and with their daughter in his arms, Kyle feels such a strong flash of contentment that it surprises him a little.

It’s a terrifying thing, to be this happy. It’s like his luck could run out at any moment, and at the same time, he finds immense comfort in the fact that this will be the rest of their lives – perhaps not the night feedings, but John right here, to share this terrifying, exciting new life. Their sweet little Rosie in his arms, so trusting and small; it feels so right that he doesn’t know what to do with himself, other than bask in the love that consumes his entire being right now.

Or maybe it’s just 3 AM fucking with his head. He’ll probably feel less loving and grateful when he has to wake up again. But for now, he’s going to enjoy this.

“How about a little dance?” John asks and Kyle hums, considering it. As if on instinct, he begins swaying side to side.

“It can be arranged,” he states. Rosie sighs in his hold again and Kyle tilts the bottle a bit. Not much left. Kyle’s prediction of getting her to fall asleep quickly looks more and more promising. He smiles down at her. The corners of her lips twitch. It probably means she’s starting to feel gassy, but Kyle’s heart still leaps in his chest at the sight.

“Look,” he whispers conspiratorially, “she thinks it’s a good idea.”

John’s hands are steady on his hips and guide Kyle to an easy rhythm of swaying back and forth. They somehow press even closer and John’s arms rise to wrap around Kyle’s as if they’re holding Rosie in tandem, including her in their silly dance. He’s mindful of Kyle’s surgical wound, careful not to pull on the stitches, and truly, truly Kyle could spend the rest of his life like this.

They sway to imaginary music, standing in place. Rosie offers no protests, just blinks at them with her huge brown eyes and wonders at the world and it kills Kyle a little inside to know that soon enough she’ll stop being this tiny, stop needing them as much as she does now. But right now, she’s small and trusts with her whole heart, and—

Has finished her bottle.

“Oh,” Kyle chuckles, “and she’s done.”

“The meal dance helped,” John replies and Kyle nods sagely.

“Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Well, don’t make me feel too useful,” John mumbles and Kyle lets out a noise that might be laughter. At this hour he’s not certain himself.

He switches Rosie to his shoulder (they both say “scrunch” out loud as she does the newborn scrunch, curling up her arms and legs towards her body like a little frog) for burping, and turns around in John’s arms.

“Good evening,” John says and Kyle bites his lip, trying in vain to stifle the smile.

“It’s night,” he argues, patting and rubbing Rosie’s back gently. He keeps swaying, as he can’t walk around with her now, and John matches him as always, his hands warm and possessive on Kyle’s lower back.

“It’s the worst watch,” John retorts back and Kyle must be hysterical because the smile breaks free again either way. It’s like he’s being flirted with and he feels flustered.

“Well, Cap, what will you do without the 3 am cigar?” he flirts back, and isn’t it funny how he can still be so freshly smitten with the man who is the father of his child. Rosie makes a faint, unamused noise, and Kyle keeps rubbing her back. She’ll be ready soon.

John rolls his eyes. “That was an excuse. Don’t need to tempt you for a smoke anymore. I can just have you here.”

“You knew, and let me buy a lighter for you.”

“I liked knowing it was for me,” John says quietly. “Don’t need to keep you at arm’s length anymore.”

Kyle chuckles. “Clearly not,” he says, hoisting Rosie a little and they snort as she finally lets out a satisfied burp, those pesky air bubbles now successfully ejected into the atmosphere. “Do you want to see if she’s going to be this agreeable going back to sleep?”

He readjusts Rosie again, bringing her back to a cradle in his arms, and is once again struck by how tiny she is. She’s basically just the size of his hands. How can anything be this cute?

John seems to be on the same wavelength, looking down at their little girl with a smitten expression. He swipes her cheek gently with his fingers and she seems to lean into his touch, like a little flower reaching towards the sun, and when John looks back up at Kyle, he looks like he’s ready to melt on the spot.

“What wouldn’t I do for you two?”

While it’s sweet, it’s in Kyle’s nature to tease.

“Buy your own lighter, apparently.”

John bites back a smile and scrunches his nose in mock distaste. It’s devastatingly adorable.

Rosie’s beginning to blink slower, her eyelids heavy, and it’s time for this cute moment to be over, as much as Kyle mourns it.

“Time to put her back to sleep,” he sighs. John’s thumb rubs over his spine slowly, and he looks like he’s mulling over something.

“Can I?”

Kyle raises his brows. “Do you really want to?”

“I’d like to hold her for a bit,” John says and his smile turns a little melancholic at the edges. “I won’t have many chances soon.”

Well, there’s something they have avoided addressing, and Kyle certainly isn’t going to fight him here. More sleep? He’ll welcome it any time.

“Alright,” he agrees and then gently, carefully transfers Rosie to John’s arms, where she settles with minimal squirming – poor girl all tuckered out from her feeding. John’s attention is completely focused on her, allured by Rosie’s sleepy charm, his eyes soft as he just stares at her like he’s mesmerised.

“See you at the next watch,” Kyle quips and leans in to kiss John’s cheek. John just hums, and Kyle puts away the bottle and the formula while John takes Rosie to their bedroom. Kyle soon follows suit and climbs gratefully into their bed, tempted to just burrow under the covers – but he resists sleep, watching John walk around as he prepares Rosie’s bassinet so he can set her in once she finally falls asleep.

Kyle should just close his eyes and let the tiredness take over. Exhaustion pulls his eyelids closed and his body feels so heavy. God, he wants to sleep, knowing he’ll have to wake up in a couple hours to feed Rosie again.

But he wants to watch this. He wants to witness John murmur softly to their daughter, humming a little tune under his breath, wants to see how Rosie, despite fighting sleep herself, keeps looking up at her Da like she wants to stay awake for him too.

The night watch used to be their thing, something Kyle would look forward to with each mission, as crazy as it was. Soap used to make fun of him for it, but it really was a special time, staying up with John. Being close, building a relationship, catching his eye, and leaving him breathless with anticipation as the tension grew. Falling in love was such a gradual, devastating thing, something he knew to expect but was caught by surprise nonetheless – and in the quiet hours of the night the feeling grew and took root, so strong he couldn’t tear himself away, too close to thrash away without damage.

And now he’s here, with a child and a new kind of night watch, a new kind of responsibility and a new kind of fondness flickering into life from the embers of what was already there, nurtured and cared for.

He pulls the covers over himself and closes his eyes.

Captain Baby Formula signing off.

End.

#yeeessssss #i love themmmmm #pricegaz #gazprice #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price #rosie garrick price #rosie au #other people's writing

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imrowanartist · 14 days

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Gaz dances with Rosie, while also realizing how fast his little girl is growing up 🥹

Tags: toothrotting fluff, humor, established PriceGaz, SFW

About 1200 words, continues under the cut

—

Afternoons like these, Kyle has found, are quickly becoming his favorite. He’s settled at the kitchen table, going over some paperwork, while over in the living room, there’s the soft rustling of paper as Rosie is keeping busy making drawing after drawing at the coffee table.

It’s peaceful. The sound of an animated film on the telly plays softly in the background and provides just enough white noise to keep Kyle’s focus on his work.

Today’s pick is Anastasia, and Kyle actually remembers that movie from his own childhood. It’s a sweet story and it’s even sweeter to see how much Rosie loves it. She’s been on a creative streak lately, redrawing her favorite characters from films, shows, and books alike. It’s something that Kyle and John have been supporting wholeheartedly, nurturing the imagination that she seems to have in abundance.

Lost in thought, Kyle doesn’t notice it when Rosie gets up from her spot and pads over to him until she’s suddenly pulling on his sleeve. He blinks back to the present, looking right into his daughter’s questioning face.

“Dad? Will you dance with me like they do in the film?” she asks and Kyle looks from the puppy eyes she’s giving him to the scene currently playing out on the telly.

It’s a ballroom scene with a whimsical song playing over it and he smiles when he remembers some of the lyrics.

“Of course,” he replies, in the most posh accent he can manage as he gets up. “May I have this dance, Princess Bee?”

He bows dramatically then swipes Rosie up in his arms as she giggles, “Dad, it’s Princess Rosanna—“

“Deepest apologies, your Highness.”

He turns up the sound of the telly, then starts swaying around the living room to the rhythm of the music, taking one of Rosie’s hands in his to mimic a ballroom dance. Her other hand is warm on his shoulder and her laughter in his ear is infectious.

Someone holds me safe and warm Anastasia sings and Kyle can’t help but press his daughter a little closer against him as they make another circle around the coffee table. They hum along to the song together as Kyle tries to take it all in, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. She’s growing up so fast and he’s all too aware that moments like these will not last forever.

He dips Rosie down, then pulls her back up, her cheeks flushed red and eyes wide with joy.

Things my heart used to know, things it yearns to remember

Kyle swallows against the lump in his throat as he suddenly remembers another instance of swaying around their flat with Rosie held in his arms. Though that had been in the middle of the night and she’d been only a few weeks old at the time; he and John sleep-deprived as they got up every few hours to feed her. It seems a lifetime ago now.

He’d do it all over again, knowing that it means he gets to have this.

“Do a pirouette!” Rosie demands and Kyle grins as he spins around in place until they’re both dizzy and breathless with laughter. As the song ends, he hugs her close and kisses her cheek over and over until Rosie giggles and pulls her face away with a mock grumble.

Behind him, Kyle can hear the front door of their flat opening and closing.

“Da, we’re dancing!” Rosie calls out and Kyle turns with her still in his arms to see his partner shrug out of his coat, back from running his errands.

“Are we now?” John smiles, toeing off his shoes and stepping towards them.

Kyle leans forward to snatch the remote from the table, rewinds to the start of the song, then drags John in by his sleeve.

“Her Highness Princess Rosanna-Bee demands it,” he says, gently swaying his hips as the music slowly intensifies. John holds his gaze for a moment, eyes twinkling and a smile pulling on his lips.

“Haven’t danced in a while, might step on your toes,” he comments, bringing his right arm around Kyle’s back to join them in their dance.

Rosie pats his shoulder in consolation. “That’s okay, Da. Just try your best.”

Kyle has to keep himself from snickering at her completely honest tone and the affronted look on John’s face in return. Then he pulls his partner along in a repeat of before, swirling around the living room to the beat of the music.

It’s clumsy and unpractical, with Rosie on his hip —who’s definitely not a toddler anymore, John’s arm around his back, and all three of their hands held together, but Kyle doesn’t care. All he cares about is the pure joy on his daughter’s face as he sings along to the lyrics this time, pitching his voice to reach the high notes.

They do another spin, and just before the song ends, Kyle trips over the coffee table and with an exaggerated cry, lets himself fall onto the sofa, on top of John, Rosie still held in his arms.

John lets out a loud oomph as he gets stuck underneath them, causing Rosie to laugh so hard she has tears in her eyes. She wriggles in Kyle’s grip till they’re face to face.

“A real Prince wouldn’t have dropped me,” she says pointedly and this time it’s Kyle’s turn to look affronted, feeling John chuckle underneath him.

“Excuse me,” he returns dryly, “A real Princess wouldn’t have a table in the middle of her ballroom.”

She scoffs, then climbs down from the both of them, dusting off her clothes like a real pretend royal. Before Kyle can get up too, he feels John’s arm snake around his waist and his beard nuzzle his neck.

“You’re still a real Prince to me,” his partner mumbles and Kyle just about melts in his grip. He shuffles around until they’re side by side, the sofa barely able to hold them. Kyle takes a moment to study John; the added grey in his hair and the wrinkles around his eyes. It only makes him look more handsome in Kyle’s humble opinion.

“If I’m a Prince, what does that make you? My dashing Knight?”

“Sure,” John hums, before leaning in for a kiss that Kyle returns happily. He could stay in this moment forever, just enjoying his family.

His daughter has other plans though.

“Ewwww,” Rosie groans, already tired of their mushy behaviour. She throws a pillow at them and they break apart with a laugh.

As she skips past the sofa, Kyle reaches out on a whim and pulls her back into his arms. He kisses her hair and the freckles on her cheeks and her nose, despite the loud protests in between her laughter.

She’s growing up so fast. It feels like Kyle has just blinked and here she is, eight years old already. With a curious mind and her own opinions, while it feels like yesterday he was still changing her diapers. He’s afraid that if he blinks again, she’ll be a teenager already.

So he presses her close against him, as he feels John’s arms around his waist, enjoying it all while he still can.

#kyle gaz garrick #captain price #pricegaz #gazprice #call of duty #modern warfare #Rosie garrick price #ro writes

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