Tille

"Oh I don't normally use AI, I just wanted it to plan my trip"

You lived on this planet for decades, you know what you like, there are hundreds of websites where you can type into any search engine " things to do in [area]" and have at least a hundred different options.

"Oh I only use it so I can figure out what to make during the week with what I have"

The most popular website as you type in "recipes" into google have sections where you click dinner- quick and easy and those usually rely on staples + 1 or 2 items. I found 30 recipes on chicken alone.

"I had a writing idea, so I typed a few sentences into Chat GPT and I was able to write 20 pages with it."

He's gotten good at it, tricking his body to avoid those long days spent mostly sleeping and losing productivity. Light meals, keeping warm, plenty of caffeine. Down to a science.

The team knows to let him be, it's not unusual for hybrids to skip seasonal habits in the military.

Something that you, his maybe-sorta-partner, absolutely despise.

You've read all the studies and medical info videos about the dangers of disrupting natural biological patterns. Look, if your maybe-hopefully-future-husband is allowed to follow his own rules in war, then you're allowed to follow your own rules in caring for him.

Which means feeding him...without him noticing.

Lucky for you, price's instincts want to eat.

Snacks left on his desk for him to mindlessly pick at, insisting you're too full and he should finish your portion. Small things that price won't notice, comfortable as he is in not needing to notice the signs. You've got him waking up at night just to clear out the fridge in a matter of weeks.

Price? He doesn't notice until he wakes up one day after sleeping for 38 hours straight.

Hair a mess, mouth dry, still sleepy.

"I'm hungry," you said in a flat tone. It was just a passing comment. Nothing serious.

​"Hungry? What do you want to eat, dove?" Soap took out his phone, waiting patiently for you to say what you wanted.

​"Oh. Em, I was joking..." you whispered. Maybe you weren't, but you were too shy to admit it.

​"Come on, bird, tell us what you want," Price looked at you with a little smile on his face.

​"Sushi..." You turned your head, trying to avoid their eyes.

​"Sushi it is." Soap started to search his phone for the nearest sushi restaurant.

​"Fuck, my room door is stuck and won't close. I need to fix it. Where's the toolbox?" you said, entering the common room and waiting for an answer.

​"Are you fixing it by yourself?" Gaz asked, raising an eyebrow.

​"Yeah?"

​"Hell no." He stood up from the couch, grabbed the toolbox from one of the cabinets, and walked out of the room.

​Thankfully, your door ended up looking like nothing had ever happened. Thanks, Gaz.

​This was your third lap running around the base.

​"Soldier, stop right there," you heard Ghost shout at you, and you obeyed instantly. "Your laces are untied."

​"Oh, yeah, I will—" You were cut off abruptly in the middle of your sentence, watching in shock as Ghost knelt down in front of you, tying your shoelaces.

​"There you go. Watch out next time," he said, looking at you flatly before standing back up.

​A meeting at 7:00 AM? Boring. But you had no choice. You were just about to put your hand on the doorknob when another hand stopped you. Price opened the door.

​"Ladies first." He stepped aside to let you go first.

Gaz wouldn't say he has control issues, because that implies his need to control things isn't good. Sure, whenever gaz is in a relationship he wants to pre-pick the date options and the housing arrangements and the schedule. But that's not because he has issues.

Gaz is just realistic. He's seen couples going about their day suddenly stopped dead in the middle of their lives by a bullet, or a bomb, or whatever fucked up thing they didn't expect to happen in such a normal and public space. Gaz likes to think he has the advantage, that he knows what could really happen, and having control over the variables keeps him and his partner safe.

...people don't seem to share that sentiment, as he's learned.

He expects you to be the same. To grimace when he tells you to grab a different pair of shoes, or to argue about his choice of restaurant. Gaz expects the same argument, the same hasty break-off.

Except...you don't? You don't get upset with kyle despite him choosing when you shower or when you go to the movies. You just smile, offer him a "sure thing, kyle." And amble on to do whatever he instructed.

It's weird. Unique. Dangerous if he doesn't understand the intentions.

Only, when gaz asks you why the hell you put up with it, you shrug and say "I'm comfortable, aren't i? You handle all the stressful decisions, and I sit here and enjoy things and look nice. What's not to love?"

"independence?" Gaz offers, sure there must be something you don't like.

"babe, c'mon." You snort, looking down at your cozy pajamas and the game console in your hands "if I had independence I'd be choosing to do the exact same things I do now. You're not trying to make me miserable, so I don't see the harm."

Gaz settles into it, after that. He really lets his tendrils spread, takes over the things you prefer not to deal with happily.

Others might think he's pampering you, or that he's keeping you trapped. If anything it's the other way around. Gaz has never been happier in a relationship, and he's not sure he'd be willing to part with you after growing so attached.

Gaz wouldn't say he has control issues, because that implies his need to control things isn't good. Sure, whenever gaz is in a relationship he wants to pre-pick the date options and the housing arrangements and the schedule. But that's not because he has issues.

Gaz is just realistic. He's seen couples going about their day suddenly stopped dead in the middle of their lives by a bullet, or a bomb, or whatever fucked up thing they didn't expect to happen in such a normal and public space. Gaz likes to think he has the advantage, that he knows what could really happen, and having control over the variables keeps him and his partner safe.

...people don't seem to share that sentiment, as he's learned.

He expects you to be the same. To grimace when he tells you to grab a different pair of shoes, or to argue about his choice of restaurant. Gaz expects the same argument, the same hasty break-off.

Except...you don't? You don't get upset with kyle despite him choosing when you shower or when you go to the movies. You just smile, offer him a "sure thing, kyle." And amble on to do whatever he instructed.

It's weird. Unique. Dangerous if he doesn't understand the intentions.

Only, when gaz asks you why the hell you put up with it, you shrug and say "I'm comfortable, aren't i? You handle all the stressful decisions, and I sit here and enjoy things and look nice. What's not to love?"

"independence?" Gaz offers, sure there must be something you don't like.

"babe, c'mon." You snort, looking down at your cozy pajamas and the game console in your hands "if I had independence I'd be choosing to do the exact same things I do now. You're not trying to make me miserable, so I don't see the harm."

Gaz settles into it, after that. He really lets his tendrils spread, takes over the things you prefer not to deal with happily.

Others might think he's pampering you, or that he's keeping you trapped. If anything it's the other way around. Gaz has never been happier in a relationship, and he's not sure he'd be willing to part with you after growing so attached.

You recently got your hands on a field guide of animals in your area, one you've been waiting months to arrive, and couldn't stop yourself from barging into ghosts room to show it off.

"It's perfectly set up for quick identification, too–" you ramble, showing ghost the pages while he pulls you into hid lap with a grunt. He's never been one to chat idly if it's not for a joke, but ghost loves hearing you speak.

"See, you look at the silhouettes and follow the page number and— oh!" The hand slipping under your waistband makes you freeze, warmth pooling low and face heating all at once.

Ghost gives your sides a squeeze, chin hooked over your shoulder "ahm' listening, keep going. What after the page number?"

...you keep talking, stuttering over your words when ghost really starts working at you. He grumbles something about you being too damn hot for him not to touch, but always directs you to keep talking about your book.

But then a few days before the party, you overhear him on the phone with his new military friends. "Can't come out and drink this weekend," he tells them gruffly. "Nah, I wish." A pause, then his laughter. "Yeah, the old ball and chain. Y'know how it is."

The words don't just devastate you - they anger you. You've never known this man to be dismissive of your relationship, let alone to spew blatantly sexist platitudes.

You're icy with him for the rest of the evening as he begs you to tell him what's wrong. You finally relent after going out for a drive to cool off. "How could you talk about me like that?" you ask him, mortified that tears are welling in your eyes. "I never asked you to plan this party. You know I wouldn't have cared if we celebrated my birthday on a different day so you could hang with your friends. I just - is that really how you feel about me?"

Gaz's unfairly adorable puppy dog eyes widen as he takes in what you're saying. "Oh, sweetheart, no no. Please don't - you're so right. I shouldn't have said that." He sighs, sounding disappointed in himself. "I was just selected for a new task force and I'm the least experienced one. I know the captain, but not the other blokes. And us military types? We're dogs, love. Awful. It's either locker room talk and rude hand gestures, or silence and grunting." He tentatively sits on the couch and opens his arms to you, hoping you'll cuddle up next to him. You acquiesce, but not without a frown to let him know you wish his earnest apology wasn't working on you.

"You're better than that, Kyle," you tell him quietly.

"I am. You make me better than that." He kisses your hairline. "The promotion to this task force is the best thing that's happened in my career, and I am terrified about fucking it up. But that shouldn't come at your expense. Tomorrow at work, I'm showing everyone the photo of you I keep in my vest and letting them know how much I love you."

A gasp escapes you. "What! Don't show them that."

He smirks. "Oh no, the one in my vest is from Joanie's cookout. The one I keep in my cap is what you're thinking of."

He's true to his word, boldly sharing his relationship status and bragging about your brilliance the next time he's with his team.

And that's how Gaz learns that Johnny has a common law marriage with his high school sweetheart, Simon has been in a long distance Internet relationship for multiple years with a bird he's never met, and Price is currently wooing a single mother he is determined to make his third wife.

====

or how you and Kyle fell in love over doing his hair

kyle “gaz” garrick x reader

a/n: is this entirely self-indulgent? yes. is it my personal belief that if kyle garrick joined the military at 16, like canon suggests, this man would’ve relied on two-in-one for most of his young adult life? also yes!

You know as soon as the door opens.

Kyle stands in the entryway, duffle bag slung over his shoulder, boots heavy and worn, whistling as he drops his keys into a bowl.

The hat is what gets your attention.

He freezes when he sees you on the couch. Kyle has never performed guilt well; his mom claims he learned how to charm his way out of anything by the time he was speaking full sentences.

“No,” you say.

“I didn’t say anything.”

You narrow your eyes and a smile flashes across his face before he forces his face into something serious.

“Which is how I know you’re up to something. You have that look on your face.”