#gaz fest drabbles

[sprout-fics]

Gaz and fem!reader on their wedding day? At a garden or forest of sorts in the English countryside?

Oh I adored this

------

“Stop fidgeting.”

Gaz straightens, swallowing thickly on years of posture from his military training. Soap is at his side, voice low so as to not draw attention from the guests sitting in their chairs before them. It’s a perfect spring day in the English countryside, in the manor they’ve chosen for the ceremony with its lush rose garden, carefully manicured with unfurling pastel blossoms.

It should be something out of a fairytale, but Gaz is nervous.

What if he slips up? What if he stutters on his vows? Bloody hell, what if he cries?

His agitation is clear, and he again tells himself it’s only nerves, that there’s no way he wouldn’t go through with this, it’s just all this pomp and circumstance is starting to make him jittery. He feels like he’s under a microscope of the idling guests, his mom with her absurdly green garden hat she insisted on wearing, his two older sisters chatting conspiratorially in the front row. 

“Ghost says he’s got a jeep with half a tank of petrol in the car park if you need an escape route.” Soap mutters as he leans over, noticing Gaz’s bouncing foot.

Gaz frowns severely at his friend, and there’s only a mild sense of guilt in the Scot’s eyes, hidden by mirth.

“That’s not funny.” Gaz forces himself to say sternly, but his best friend can tell how his smile is infectious, and even as he mumbles a ‘Aye, sorry, sorry’ he’s containing a grin all the while. 

“Mind your manners, Soap.” Price says from Johnny’s other side, and the reprimand has the Scot straightening on instinct, hands held behind his back with a small clearing of his throat. Then Price slides his eyes over to his protégé, a brief smile of amusement tugging his lips as Gaz’s vaguely worried expression, but saying nothing.

There’s music then, and it takes a moment for the crowd to rise. The throng of people briefly blocks Gaz’s sight, and he feels Soap likewise stretch beside him to catch a glimpse of the bride walking down the path towards the altar. There’s a flash of white for a moment, and Gaz’s heart leaps up into his throat before at last his eyes land on you. 

You’re beautiful. 

Gaz has seen many things in his lifetime, both violent and radiant, but nothing compares to the sight of you in your dress, holding a bouquet of English roses, eyes welling with emotion as you meet his gaze. 

It summons such a sudden severe wash of desperate affection and tenderness that Gaz has to force himself to just breathe. His chest feels suddenly tight, the words he can’t wait to say to you threatening to bubble up prematurely at the vision of his fiancé walking towards him, one step at a time, ready to spend the rest of your life with him.

Fuck it, he’s going to cry after all.

Soap seems to notice, and there’s a little nudge in his side as the Scot tries to steady him from his wobbling lip. “Steady, mate.”

Gaz pays him not attention, because as you finally reach the altar and hand off your flowers, Gaz reaches his hands for you and feels emotion roll warmly down his cheeks. It seems to surprise you, and in turn your own gaze grows watery. You smile as you reach a hand up to cup his face, and Gaz can’t tell if it’s a sob or a laugh that forces its way up your throat. 

“You’re crying.” You mutter, soft so only he can hear.

“You’re crying.” Gaz chokes back with a grin, seeing tears bead in the corner of your eyes. He doesn’t wipe his tears, doesn’t want to draw attention to it, so it’s your thumb that smears it away in a gentle touch. 

“Fuck.” Gaz gasps softly for a moment, forgetting himself, and he can hear Price make a sound of disapproval at his language in front of the altar. Gaz pays him no attention. There’s no one else in the world right now other than the two of you, and as he turns to press a kiss into your palm, his voice is filled to the brim with overwhelming emotion.

“I can’t wait to marry you.”

#Gaz x reader #gaz x female reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #gaz x you #gaz fest #gaz fest drabbles #This is so tooth rottingly fluffy my god

[sprout-fics]

Hello! For the Gaz requests, how about Gaz being a total gym rat when he’s on leave and reader really benefitting from his spike in libido after his work outs please and thank you. I’d love if you can make it kinda silly. 

“You’re stinky.”

He huffs a laugh into your neck, arms encircling your waist as he crowds you against the kitchen counter. It’s true. He smells like the sharp scent of sweat that he hasn’t bothered to rinse off before finding you and pressing kisses up your nape in a clear sign of eagerness. You had counted the steps he’d taken as he opened the door, had heard the thump of his gym bag in the hallway before he’d embraced you from behind, one hand teasing the bottom of your shirt suggestively.

He presses a kiss to the underside of your jaw in an insincere apology. You can tell, he’s smiling against your skin. 

“Sorry.” He offers noncommittally, and there’s laughter in his voice. It warms you through, this pleased, sunny mood of his that bleeds into your soul and sparks a tender flame of affection. “Just got back from the gym.”

“I can tell.” You remark wryly, and make a point to sniff loudly with a little grimace. 

He flips you in his arms, lifts you so your balance on the counter. He’s wedged between your legs, a hand on each thighs grasping you firmly to keep you there. The shirt he’s wearing exposes his arms, the toned musculature shiny with exertion. Sweat glints off the silvery scars of his life’s work, and for a moment you allow yourself to become distracted by them, by the legends written across his flesh. 

Before you can be too distracted, Gaz’s nose bumps against your cheek, and instinctively you lean into his familiar kiss. Yet then you make a face and pull away.

“Lime Gatorade, really?” You ask, and his eyes twinkle as he smiles and kisses you again, open mouthed so you make a whining noise of complaint. Gaz shifts between your legs, arches and then rolls his hips into the junction of your thighs in clear suggestion. You can feel the growing hardness of him, and it elicits a little sound of surprise from you that he drinks down greedily. 

“I am not having sex with you when you smell like this.”

“But you will have sex with me.”

You try to hide your grin beneath a roll of your eyes, press a hand to his nape to drag him back into the kiss. 

“Only if there’s a shower involved.” You pant as he rolls his hips forward again, feeling arousal pool in the friction where he meets you. Gaz nips at your ear cheekily before his words ghost across your skin with a husky breath. 

“Don’t know how much cleaner I’ll get.” He tells you, and you can hear the eagerness in his voice as he trails kisses down your neck. “...Or you, for that matter.”

You laugh, reach down a hand between you to cup him through his joggers, and Gaz buries his head in your shoulder as he moans.

“I think we’ll deal, stinky boy.”

———

Note: previous version listed this as grape Gatorade, which has been pointed out as a stereotype. It has since been corrected.

#kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #gaz x gn!reader #gaz fest #gaz fest drabbles #I love this idea sm you don't understand #I love soft intimacy Gaz

[sprout-fics]

Honestly, I want to spoil Gaz, whether that’s in bed or out and about, I want to spoil that man. He deserves it for being as sweet and amazing as he is (and falling out of two helicopters) so just describe all the ways to pamper this man (that can fit in a post).

Also stop reading papers and rest from your cold or I’m gonna fly out there and restrain you in blankets.

I too, would like to pamper this man

So, in my opinion, Gaz's love languages are words of affirmation and quality time

He's a little bit of a people pleaser, so the most direct way to express your appreciation to him is to say it outright. You love the way his eyes light up with his smile, the little kisses he gives you in return

The way to Gaz's heart, however, is just by spending time with him. He likes to do things himself, so acts of service are a bit redundant, and don't have the impact you think they do

So arranging a day trip, an outing, a date, time dedicated for the both of you makes him so happy. Even if it's an entire day dedicated to being just at home, he enjoys spending time with you

Curled up on the couch watching his favorite movie, helping him cook a meal, playing video games, cuddling and listening to the rain, spending hours in each others arms just talking about anything and everything, he can't get enough of it

The reward for his work is to come home and know you love him, that you'll spend time with him, that you'll help him through things, that it's you

Still, there's other things can do to show your appreciation

Like pressing kisses to his jaw as he wakes up in bed, letting your lips trail down his chest to his waist, one hand cupping his growing hardness through his pants as you slowly slide down

As much as Gaz loves to please, he's never one to turn down your efforts to please him

You suck him off slowly, relishing every little sigh and buck of his hips, the way one hand reaches for you and the other grips at the pillow. His brow is scrunched, trying to keep his eyes open but it feels so good

Better yet if you throw in a little bit of praise, telling him how proud you are of him, how much he deserves this, how you adore him

It's enough to undo him, and you adore the punched out little sound Kyle makes when he comes, hips stuttering and breath uneven with his orgasm

He likes to have you in his lap, hips rolling into him nice and slow, lips moving together in a sensuous kiss as the movie plays forgotten in the backgrounds. His hands cup your ass, help you gyrate on his lap as he moans openly against you

Slow, gentle sex is always such a treat for him. It's a reminder that there's no rush, that he doesn't have to grab his kit or watch for enemy fire, that he can just be here with you, taking his time

It's that same affection that goes for all things you do for him. Tender, unhurried, letting him bask in your presence and forget the things he's seen, the lives he's taken. Here with you, there's nothing else, just the forgotten tick of your heartbeats synchronizing in an everlasting echo

#kyle garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you #kyle garrick x you #gaz fest #gaz fest drabbles

[sprout-fics]

From the previous vampire!Gaz thot drabble, his new prize lover cant drink his blood or theyll become like him, what if they accidentally bit too hard? Not accidentally but they thought about what he said about wanting to stay together forever, but didn't consider that his lover is human so they took it upon themselves to try and become like him?

I've had this sitting in my inbox for WAY TOO LONG anon I am SO sorry.

It’s a curse to love a vampire.

Love for you means red dripping into pristine white lace, wet gasps into dark skin, glinting pale fangs and the shine of gold that overtakes warm brown eyes. It means candle lit castle halls that you roam endlessly, hands tracing along flowering wallpaper and ancient murals of ages long past. It means you only ever dine alone, with his company and his plate empty of mortal food. It means you’ll age, unlike him, will eventually grow old and watch your body outgrow him. It means Gaz was here since before you loved him, and he’ll be here after you’ve gone. 

You try not to think about it. Neither of you speak of this curse that has befallen you. Neither of you speak of the fact that every time Gaz drinks from you that he’s leeching years off your life. You don’t speak of the fact that you offer yourself a willing sacrifice to his sacrilegious altar, expose yourself to his fangs and whisper his name in heavenly adoration. 

He’s refused to turn you. You asked only once, and Gaz’s eyes had turned to you in despair, grief for a lifetime of no end written across the warm brownness of his gaze. 

“You’ll never die.” He whispered to you, holding your face so he pressed a beloved kiss to your forehead. “You’d live and live and live only because you take the lives of others as you do.”

“I’d live with you.” You’d whispered in return, eyes closed as you tried to imagine your death without him. 

“You’d have to kill to do it.” He rasped, heart aching, holding your face between his palms. “I don’t want that, and neither do you.”

You hadn’t asked again. 

Yet as time passed, as you woke in the mornings without him and felt the ache of loneliness dwell between your ribs, you wondered if you’d spend the rest of your life like this. You’d grow old and grey and he would remain unchanging, youthful and beautiful even in his danger. 

It’s in a fit of despair that you do it. 

You're seized with emotion as he drinks from you, fangs sucking against your neck as he makes little wanting sounds of pleasure. Braced in his lap, your nose buries into the skin of his shoulder, brow scrunched with mild discomfort. Every drop of crimson he drinks down is another hour, another day you won’t get to spend with him- a lifetime cut short for the curse of loving something you aren’t.

He’s warned you before that you can bite him, but you can never break the skin. He can drink your blood, but for you to drink his is to inhale his curse, to change yourself into something far beyond mortal, a creature of the night like himself. It would be excruciating as your body rewrites itself from the inside out, and the hunger-

You see a vision of him laying your withered form in red thorny roses in the graveyard, of using them to pierce his heart in his grief. 

You bite down onto his skin. 

…Red.

Like the molten interior of a dormant volcano now rising to the surface, it explodes across your tongue. Yet you swallow, feel the fire of it course down into your stomach and set it ablaze in violent attrition. Gaz’s yell of surprise and pain is muffled by the sudden blinding  pain that erupts across your form, mouth dropping open in a ragged, breathless gasp as your body seizes in rebellion of the crimson curse you’ve swallowed. It steals the breath from your lungs in consuming heat, makes you throw your head back and gaze at the canopy of his bed unseeingly. 

It hurts. It hurts. It hurts unlike anything you’ve ever felt in your life, an incomparable pain that you think will consume you instead of change you. Your scarlet stained mouth parts in a feverish, wrecked cry as Gaz hauls you from his form, lays you into the silk sheets and braces above you. The world spins, and the only thing you can focus on is him.

His eyes are full of grief. 

“What have you done?! He asks in cracked despair, raising a hand to your face. It burns. 

You want to tell him you did it for you both, that you want to be here with him forever, that you can’t stand another daylight without him. 

You want to tell him you love him.

Instead you arch off the bed in a soundless scream, his blood dripping down your chin as the curse lays itself against the marrow of your bones. You feel the wetness of his tears drip onto your cheeks, hear the wail of his voice as he holds you through the pain. 

“What have you done?”

#gaz x reader #gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x you #gazfest2023 #gaz fest #gaz fest drabbles #vampire Gaz

[sprout-fics]

Hiya lovely! Welcome back to writing ❤️❤️ hopefully this doesn’t get lost in the flood of requests but I’m just thinking about Gaz the first couple days he’s back home and how soft and sweet he would be. Like he’s been off doing some brutal things so when he comes home he likes to dote on you and take care of you as a way to balance it out sort of.

LET 👏 HIM👏SPOIL👏YOU👏!!

Wakefulness doesn’t come to you easily, blanketed in your comfy, downy cover. You curl into it with a little whine, tugging the tangled blankets closer around you to ward off the chill of your room. You’re still caught halfway in sleep, wanting nothing more than to let the gentle drizzle of rain outside your window to lull you back into dreams. It’s Sunday, you’ve nowhere in particular to be, and you look forward to the long, luxurious day of staying in bed with your boyfriend, home from his campaign as of last night. 

Yet when you reach over, the other side of the bed is strangely empty. 

You make a little questioning noise to nobody in particular, cracking open one eye to see the tangle of pillows and blankets where Gaz should be. But isn’t. 

It forces you finally into a semblance of wakefulness, and you stretch under the covers, thinking perhaps he’s just run to the bathroom and will soon crawl back into bed with you. Yet as the minutes pass, you find yourself waiting with no end in sight. 

“Gaz?” You ask drowsily, but there’s no answer from the bathroom. It does, however, perk your ears to the noises from downstairs in the kitchen, the scent of coffee billowing across your nose. 

You force yourself from bed, grabbing a robe and slippers, not bothering to wash your face yet. You’re still rubbing the sleep from your eyes when you shuffle through the door to the kitchen. It’s only then that you finally find your boyfriend, standing before the stove and wearing one of your aprons. He grins at your sleepy appearance, and you whine at him, moving to hug his front and bury your face into the silly little heart of the ‘I love the chef’ atop his chest. 

Gaz’s arms wrap around you, tugging you closer, and briefly he rocks back and forth with you. He makes a little cooing sound at you, lifts your face only so he can press a chaste little kiss to your forehead, which you lean into eagerly. 

“What are you up to?” You ask, arms still wrapped around his waist, pressed to his front. 

Gaz grins. “I’m making breakfast for my favorite girl.” He announces, waving the spatula in his hand with a flourish. 

You hazard a glance at the clock. It’s still early, and considering how late he got in last night, t’s a wonder he’s awake at all. 

Gaz follows your gaze, and then looks back to you with a little shrug. “Couldn’t sleep.” He supplies. 

You frown at that, stretch up so you press a soft little kiss against his cheek. 

“Nightmares?” You ask softly, and Gaz’s eyes grow a little distant before he shakes whatever is haunting him away. 

“Wanna talk about it?” You offer worriedly, one hand toying with the apron bow at his back. Gaz only smiles at you, leans down so he kisses you properly this time, a lingering contact that makes your stomach flutter with familiar warmth. 

“Later.” He promises in a whisper. “Let me spoil my girl first.”

You smile at that, the first smile of the morning, seen only by him. 

Gaz carefully pries himself from you, turning back towards the stove, where eggs sizzle against the pan. 

“Now.” He announces, looking over his shoulder sunnily. “Waffles or pancakes?”

#kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you #kyle garrick x reader #gaz fest #gaz fest drabbles