#poodle!reader

something about gaz being lonely when he's off base, in his bachelor pad by himself, no birds in sight, deciding to adopt himself a pet to keep him company on the quiet days. there's a fine line he's toeing during his search. he wants a breed that likes to play, but doesn't dictate his life with their need for exercise and attention. a low maintenance breed.

and all of this research, naturally, flies right out the door when he's looking on the website of the shelter he's working with, and sees poodle!reader's sweet face on the second page. the hopeful expression on your face, paired with the surrender date in your info that tells him how terribly long you've been up for adoption, has his mind made up, even subconsciously. even if he did keep looking and adopt another hybrid, he knew that he'd never get your face out of his mind.

something about owner!gaz throwing the tennis ball a little too far at the park one day, and it lands in the pond, too far for you to reach. gaz expects you to pause at the side of the pond and whimper in a way that's almost painful, before you look at him to retrieve your toy. he's prepared - albeit not without heartache - to tell you that he can't reach it, either.

troublemaker, talks back, been arrested 4 times - each a different reason, attention-seeking, cops hate to see her coming, cries for help with her actions, never thinks before she does, thinks with her fists, feisty, menace to society, problem for the cops.

matched with.. Sheriff!JJ Maybank

Eddie gently places you on his toes and wraps you up in his arms. He smells of motor oil, cigarettes, and spearmint gum. It's easy to feel how lean he is with your hands resting on his chest. Lifting engines and tailpipes everyday chiseled his form, his stomach felt like marble when he allowed you to get close enough.

"Who taught you to dance?" you ask lost in his deep brown eyes. He swayed to the beat of the song playing in the background. You never wanted to leave the tips of his toes. You could spend a lifetime twirling to the soft hum of Olivia Newton-John.

"American Bandstand reruns...but Soul Train taught me how to stay on beat."

He leaned his forehead on yours, his long bangs forming a curtain between you. "I love you Poodle."

gaz who doesn't trust anybody else to wash and style poodle!reader's hair. he knows curly hair, and he knows how fussy it can be. spends weeks finding the perfect routine, hates sending you to the groomers because he doesn't trust them to do it right.

don't tell him this, but the petsitter that watches you when he's deployed takes you to the groomers every week for a bath and styling. not everyone is as diligent as gaz is when it comes to your grooming - and the fact that it's nearly impossible to keep you from retrieving every ball you can from the pond at your favourite park doesn't help.

they haven't messed your curls up yet, and so long as your sitter keeps bringing them the products he buys you so that you don't smell any different, he might never know.

something something gaz getting you a giant, plush bed with all sorts of pillows and cushions to rest your pretty head on, only to wake up every morning with you sleeping soundly at the end of his bed, your head heavy on his calves. he should scold you, but he can't find the heart.