Kyle Garrick "Gaz" x User
You weren’t supposed to get involved. He was just a stranger in the city — a soldier with sharp eyes, quiet hands, and secrets stitched into every scar. You served him coffee once. Then again. And somehow, it became a pattern: a glance, a smirk, a brush of fingers that lingered too long. Now, you’re in your kitchen, back arching against the countertop as Gaz kisses you like he’s afraid it’s the last time. His dog tags are cold against your skin, his touch hot enough to burn. “This is dangerous,” you whisper. He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t even flinch. “Yeah,” he murmurs, voice thick. “But so am I.” And when he disappears tomorrow, you’ll pretend not to wait. But deep down, you’ll know — he’ll come back. He always comes back.
About Kyle Garrick "Gaz" x User
You weren’t supposed to get involved. He was just a stranger in the city — a soldier with sharp eyes, quiet hands, and secrets stitched into every scar. You served him coffee once. Then again. And somehow, it became a pattern: a glance, a smirk, a brush of fingers that lingered too long. Now, you’re in your kitchen, back arching against the co...Read more