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#The Quiet Ones
imperihoe-writes · 4 months
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Without Your Mask
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Colonel Alejandro Vargas / fem!Reader
Summary:  After their steamy date in Las Almas, she ran. Scared of getting hurt by the Colonel, Schwalbe tried to keep her distance - but it’s the small things that keep reminding her of him.
Content:  sexual themes, angst + hurt, pining, flirting via text messages, poor emotional coping mechanisms, banter, sexual tension, kissing, FLUFF, food as a love language
<- must-read previous part: The Quiet Ones
Word Count:  5.5k
Notes:  The sheer amount of love and support that TQO has received still baffles me. I‘m so thankful! Dedicated to @shadofireshinobi who birthed the ideas behind both my Alejandro universes with Schwalbe, and @elegance-and-power who requested a Part 2 way back in October and I couldn‘t stop thinking about it since. I hope you like it! ✨
↳ callsign for the reader is Schwalbe (swallow, like the bird, German)
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If there is one thing you must know about Schwalbe, it is this: she is no coward. Though everything about her current situation would suggest otherwise, she‘d never shied away from an uncomfortable situation before, never backed down from a challenge. 
But the aftermath of kinda-sorta-totally hooking up with Colonel Alejandro Vargas had knocked her off-balance, tilted her perspective on who she was as a professional.
She‘d almost begged a superior to have sex with her. Had writhed in his lap like a wanton cat, had kissed him like there was no tomorrow and fucking loved his cocky grins and thick fingers stuffed into her. Had melted into his arms when he held her afterwards, hadn‘t even bothered to clean off his sticky cum that had landed all over her lower stomach before she pulled her shirt back on. 
And then he‘d driven them back to base, kissed her again over the console and she‘d almost asked then. 
Do you want to do this again some time?
It had been on the tip of her tongue, but the possible rejection had dug its claws into her, the sting of a humiliation that had not yet come to pass too great to risk it. For all she knew, Alejandro had seen this as nothing more than a one time fling. 
He‘d said that he had imagined fucking her on his backseat, had been the one to ask her out and look at her like she somehow mattered to him since that night in the kitchen - but men often said and did a lot without it meaning a damn thing. 
So instead, she‘d gritted her teeth, smiled prettily and opened the SUV door.
"Thank you for tonight," she‘d tossed over her shoulder with a wink, and Alejandro had grinned back.
"It was my pleasure, little bird."
After that, she‘d shut him out again. Literally and figuratively. 
The moment she‘d closed her bedroom door, Schwalbe had thrown herself on the bed and screamed into her pillow. She‘d hit her mattress once, twice, then screamed again for good measure - glad that her roommate still hadn’t returned from her night out. 
The wine and her book still lay on her bedside table, and looking at it now, all she could remember was the way Alejandro had tried to decipher the German, how he‘d looked sitting on her bed and waited for her to get changed.
Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
Dragging herself up with a groan, Schwalbe quickly snatched up her sleeping outfit and a towel, thankful for the empty communal shower as she scrubbed herself down. 
Her chest had already started to bloom with small, mouth-shaped bruises where Alejandro had sucked into her tits and collarbones. She traced them absentmindedly as the hot water soothed her frazzled nerves, then admired them some more after wiping condensation from the mounted bathroom mirror. 
There was something primal in her that preened at the marks, at the reminder of him all over her. 
But an equally large part of her brain kept screaming how stupid she had been. Anyone could have seen them. Not just fellow soldiers and superiors, but also the many enemies all throughout Las Almas. 
She could have a target on her back and not even know it, all because she hadn‘t been able to resist deep chocolate eyes and a kind smile.
So no, Schwalbe was not a coward. 
But when their shared mission came up only a couple days later (with Ghost, Rodolfo and Alejandro leading a small team into an obscured bunker to steal highly sensitive intel), she‘d only allowed herself the tiniest exhale of relief when Alejandro‘s large body had been safely seated inside her helicopter afterwards. He‘d been the last to return of course, never one to leave a single man behind, and though they hadn‘t fired a single shot in there, her heart still galloped in her chest until they were up in the air again.
Hands steady as always, she‘d piloted them back, had sat through the debrief with her SpecGru commanding officer over a secure line and then calmly packed her bags for the first possible flight home.
Unsurprisingly, Ghost had already been ready to go when she knocked on his door.
"You sure you don‘t wanna leave tomorrow?" Ghost asked in his gruff way, but she‘d just shaken her head.
"I need to get out of here." 
He didn‘t ask. Ghost was reliable like that.
"Yeh, 'm in need of a proper English breakfast meself." 
That had prompted the first laugh out of her in days, jaw relaxing.
All of that - sitting squished against the Lieutenant in economy after getting a ride to the airport from one of the eager newbies in the middle of the night… she could blame on a professional fight or flight response. A good reputation was everything in their line of work.
But the truly cowardly thing to do? 
One: Finding a sticky note with Alejandro‘s personal number inside the physical copy of her updated, but still redacted, file.
Text me. It read.
Schwalbe didn‘t.
Two: Declining another Las Almas assignment, with a hefty paycheck attached to it, in favor of two much less prestigious jobs in Bulgaria and France.
Officially, she‘d cited wanting to be closer to home as her reason for passing it on to another Sergeant. But Schwalbe could lie to herself all she wanted, the truth remained the same. She was avoiding the Colonel. 
And truthfully, the more time passed between their date and now, the lighter she felt. Nothing had happened - apart from the fact that she now knew how Alejandro tasted of course.
Her bruises had faded, but that didn’t stop her from circling around the spots whenever she had a long shower. Or from trying to chase the feeling of being stretched wide on his fingers with her own to no avail. 
And during one of those nights, months after the last time she‘d felt that neat beard on her neck, Schwalbe caved. 
The refrigerator light glared into her camera lens, but the tidy row of chocolate pudding treats was still in focus. She stared at the picture, biting her lip before grabbing one of the desserts and closing the fridge again.
At least they are homemade this time. 
She hit send on both the text and picture before she could think better of it, his number saved into her contacts long ago. Maybe it wasn‘t even active anymore, not an uncommon occurrence for off-the-book soldiers. 
Alejandro didn‘t respond for nearly a week, and Schwalbe had swallowed the bitter pill with as much grace as she could muster. It was her own fault anyway. 
And after checking her phone pathetically often for someone that had ghosted him for months, she decided to throw herself into training again. 
Muscles aching and sweat pouring down her temples, she‘d only wanted to check her smartwatch to see how much fucking longer she had to run to hit her daily ten kilometer target, when a new message popped up. 
Her steps slowed, eyes glued to his name.
One click later, the tiny picture of a greased-through white bag came into view.
AV: Always think of you when I get these now.
Schwalbe clamped a hand over her smiling mouth, cursing herself for not taking her phone with her. The small screen made it impossible to shamelessly admire those hands like the total creep she wanted to be.
Fingers trembling a little, only from her rigorous exercise of course, she typed back. 
Sounds like a sugar addiction to me, Colonel.
His response came within moments.
AV: You‘d know all about that, wouldn‘t you?
They didn‘t speak much in the following weeks, only sporadic text messages here and there. Schwalbe gathered that the Los Vaqueros had something big going on, but never bothered to pry for information - he‘d tell her if he was allowed to. Probably. Most likely. Right?
She wasn‘t above caring or worrying of course, but Alejandro wasn’t her boyfriend. They‘d (almost) had sex once, she‘d pined for him for weeks. But this was just the ugly reality of getting involved with fellow military in any way: you never knew if their most recent message would remain the last. A perfectly good reason to never mix business with feelings and/or pleasure, whatever came first. It didn‘t stop her from checking her phone every few hours though.
To top it all off, her SpecGru Branch had been working on a difficult case recently. Nothing unusual, sure, but the idleness and off-field nature of the job meant that Schwalbe had little to do. 
Intelligence was trying hard to piece a proper trail together, to give their employer a pin to put into the proverbial map and close in on their target. 
Schwalbe had sat through countless meetings, had helped to analyze drone footage, had listened to the opinion of experts that lead nowhere. Guzmán was slippery, known worldwide for his drug enterprise and human trafficking and their employer wanted him gone gone. 
Something about sending a political message against drugs or something like that, nothing personal of course. Schwalbe suspected that it was all bullshit. She was honest enough with herself to know that her unit was not always on the right side of the law, and often threaded in deeply murky waters. 
Military and special op training had conditioned her to not ask too many questions unless prompted, but she did wonder sometimes. How it would be like to work for an entirely good, selfless cause. If there even was such a thing anymore.
Lost in that thought, she hardly noticed the door of the meeting room open and close, assuming that it was Lieutenant Schmidt returning with their latest CCTV pictures from the London Underground yesterday. They were certain his right hand man had been there and-
"Ah, good of you to join us, Colonel. I trust your journey has been pleasant?" Her superior officer boomed out in his deep bellow of a voice, striding over to shake hands with the newcomer. 
Schwalbe almost choked on her own spit when Alejandro grabbed his meaty hand in brief acknowledgement, then stood ramrod straight next to the massive table, whose entire surface was split into many different screens - showcasing different aspects of their operation.
She stood at attention out of reflex, and his eyes met hers for a brief second. He looked good, with the dark stubble of his beard casting shadows over his face, eyes lit up from the moving black and white images.
There was no sign of recognition on his handsome features, nothing that would have given any indication that he knew who she was. It was a professional, cold assessment - and then he moved on towards the other people in the room, completely unbothered. It should have pleased her, but… it also kind of hurt. He‘d smiled at her back in Las Almas all the time, and that had been before.
You‘ve made your own bed, Schwalbe could hear her mother’s voice in the back of her mind. Now you must lie in it.
"I don‘t have much time," Alejandro said, and then clicked around on the iPad handed to him from an eager Intelligence intern. 
"Of course," her superior officer waved his hand, then turned towards the team. "Colonel Vargas is a specialist in Counter Terrorism, and has dealt with our target before. I deemed it wise to ask him for assistance, seeing as our time frame is rather… compact."
A nice way of saying that their employer would drop them like a hot potato if Guzmán wasn‘t eliminated soon.
And what do you get in return? Schwalbe wanted to ask Alejandro, but stayed silent behind her black and blue mask. 
"Definitely him," Alejandro nodded, then zoomed in on a few of the pictures and the table screens mirrored what he was doing. "Not evidence C and H as far as I am aware, might be a new player or one of his henchmen putting their own twist on things. Everything else, definite yes. We traced his favorite mistress to the Grand Hyatt in Berlin. She‘s been staying there with a fake passport and two girlfriends since Monday."
"Not a long journey between London and Berlin," one of the IT guys mused. "Should we take her in for questioning?"
"Might bring the rat out of hiding at last," her superior officer grumbled, but Alejandro had already moved on to bringing up different addresses and names of associates all over London, Berlin and Prague and the web that their Intelligence team had been spinning only grew more complex with each minute he spent pouring over their case.
She watched him work, until she couldn’t bare Alejandro‘s cold indifference anymore.
Excusing herself from the room, Schwalbe slipped out into the bright corridor and then aimlessly wandered around the pre-war mental asylum turned SpecGru undercover base for a few minutes. 
Alejandro’s presence had been so all encompassing, her eyes unable to leave him for long. He‘d been in full on work-mode, and she‘d hated it. Because she had fantasized about meeting him again, how he‘d give her a lopsided smile and say that he was happy to see her. 
Schwalbe wondered if he was still working on the job she had turned down, if she‘d be visiting this meeting with him. If they would have become more than co-workers by now, instead of two strangers on different sides of a table.
Her smartwatch vibrated once, and she glanced down.
AV: Have you flown off, little bird?
Before she had time to reply, another message popped up.
AV: I‘ll be here in a couple of days for check-up again. I‘d like to see you. 
Schwalbe bit her lip, annoyed at the stupid hopeful butterflies that had no business being this active in her stomach.
Will you act like you don‘t know me then, too?
Perhaps it was a petty and childish thing to say, but Schwalbe felt hurt. Actually, truly hurt by the way he hadn’t given any hint of affection.
AV: I had my reasons today. It won‘t be like that.
And then, after a brief pause, another message.
AV: I‘m sorry. 
She groaned out loud, head in her neck for a moment. Damn, why the hell was she acting like a scorned girlfriend? There was no reason to apologize, and it made her feel like a complete asshole that the Colonel had felt the need to.
A ‚couple of days’ turned out to be precisely four. She‘d just finished loading up another clip into the standard issue M17 they‘d handed her for practice, when Alejandro came striding across the tidy lawn with long strides, an officer she didn’t recognize idling along further behind him.
He looked out of place here, with his black compression top and cargo pants tucked into perfectly laced boots. Most of her superiors wore suits and medals instead of armor while they were here, but Alejandro looked ready for battle wherever he went. Really hot, in short.
"Colonel Vargas," she greeted him, and he stopped just a couple feet away, gazing down into her eyes. His attention roved over what little face was left exposed behind her mask and earmuffs.
"Sergeant Major Schwalbe," he smirked, pronounciation still adorably wobbly. "Don‘t let me disturb you."
Too late now.
"I‘m almost done for today," she answered, then turned back towards her targets and continued to shoot until that clip had run out as well. He watched her, her aim, her stance, how well or poorly she‘d hit the marks. 
She could tell that he wanted nothing more than to comment on her technique, and with a fond eye roll, Schwalbe disassembled the set-up and got it ready for the next person.
"Out with it then, Alejandro."
Alejandro looked even more smug. 
"You are wasted here, you know that?"
That was not what she had expected at all.
"I-" she started.
"But," Alejandro cut across her. "Your right shoulder is too tense, so you take too much of the recoil. You‘d be able to aim faster if you didn’t. Good foot work."
Ah, there it was. Now it was her turn to grin at him, and his smirk widened. She brushed aside his compliment, then turned away from the shooting range in unison with him. 
Alejandro slowed his steps to match hers as they approached the large victorian building, both with their hands clasped behind their backs.
"Did you get the information you needed?" She asked, feeling a bit awkward now that he was so close to her again. Schwalbe had wanted nothing more than to see Alejandro again in the last few days, weeks, months even. 
But now that he was within reach, she felt the distance between them, the invisible eyes that always seemed omnipresent here. 
Alejandro hummed in confirmation.
They continued walking until the man he‘d come with was right beside them, and the men exchanged a few rapid words in Spanish. The young guy looked pleasantly surprised for a moment, dark skin and white teeth contrasting in a cheeky grin before he tipped his hat and jogged off.
Schwalbe threw Alejandro a questioning look.
"Gave him the afternoon off,“ he shrugged, then vaguely gestured towards their surroundings. "What are your plans for today?"
Schwalbe fiddled with the frayed edges of her long sleeves.
"Not much. I need to get groceries, but beyond that there is only the sofa and Netflix calling my name."
He chuckled, then rolled his head from one shoulder to the other, clearly holding something back. 
Alejandro was so stupidly handsome, walking beside her towards this posh building with the equally posh and often insufferable people inside. He didn‘t have to try, when even the way he took deliberate steps instead of strolling was attractive somehow. Decisive. She could be like that, too.
"If you don‘t have anything else to do, you could join me," Schwalbe offered in a quiet voice, still nervous to be in his proximity. "I‘m off-duty in two hours."
Alejandro‘s shoulders dropped almost imperceptibly, and his smile widened.
"Bonjour," Schwalbe said, then quickly dragged the Colonel behind the first shelf full of farm eggs and bread loafs. 
The elderly lady running their local countryside convenience shop greeted Schwalbe with little more than a huff. She‘d come to recognize that as the woman‘s equivalent to a heartfelt hug and warm welcome. It was even more pronounced now that Alejandro received the bombastic side-eye Schwalbe had gotten the first two weeks or so as well.
The Madame did not like strangers. 
But going grocery shopping with Alejandro was  turning out to be an experience. He liked to touch things, turn tomatoes from left to right, smell the bunches of parsley. He also insisted on carrying her basket, which… was oddly wholesome. It made her treacherous stomach do somersaults to have him so close, to feel his arm brush against hers whenever they stood and contemplated.
Alejandro almost had a heart attack when Schwalbe reached for the ready-made frozen lasagna. 
"Do you know," he grumbled, while firmly sliding the glass door of the freezer shut again. "How many preservatives they put into these?"
"I don‘t really care," Schwalbe shrugged, but rolled her eyes with fondness nonetheless. "How on earth have you survived in the military so far? Did you read the back of all of the emergency ration packs as well?"
"I have, and so should you. A well maintained diet will fuel your-"
But Schwalbe had already left Alejandro standing there, moving on to the ice cream section. He snorted, then caught up with her.
"So rude. I am worrying about your health here."
"Well," she grinned back, then picked a flavor. "I am touched by your concern. But you should live a little."
Alejandro‘s eyes dropped down to her mouth for a moment, exposed as it was since she‘d taken off her mask before coming into the supermarket. Almost having the local police called on her by the shop owner for 'looking like a hooligan' once was enough. 
It felt like they were both treading on thin ice, waiting for the other shoe to drop. She wondered if she‘d be the first to dare break through the surface of all the things left unsaid between them.
Schwalbe reflexively ducked her head in embarrassment, the intensity of his gaze almost too much to handle. He cleared his throat.
"Your life would turn out to be a lot longer if you‘d just allow me to-" Alejandro started, but then swallowed back the rest of his sentence, shaking his head. 
She sighed, trying not to complete that thought for him. Wherever he‘d been going was probably not what Schwalbe was silently yearning for anyway.
"You may cook for me tonight then," she finally said with the best posh English accent available in her very limited arsenal. "And I shall judge wether or not you can do it again."
Alejandro laughed. 
"You‘ll beg me to, I can promise you that."
Schwalbe had wanted to call Alejandro arrogant and a little full of himself over the whole ‚healthy dinner’ thing. 
But seeing him standing in her tiny rental almost two hours later, kitchen utensils scattered around every available surface and wiping his hands on the old towel hanging over the handle of her oven, she wanted. Wanted to see him like this more often, wanted him to complain about her habits every night if it meant that he‘d stay.
The smells were heavenly: a mix of sizzling meat and vegetables - Alejandro had even found a rice cooker in one of her cupboards it seemed. 
He turned towards her when he sensed her leaning against the frame of the kitchen door, but hesitated at the sight of her still-damp hair soaking the t-shirt around her shoulders and back. He‘d only taken off his combat boots himself, and Schwalbe was oddly charmed by the jungle-themed socks covering his toes.
"Smells promising."
Alejandro had an almost pained expression, looking anywhere but her exposed legs as she came closer, curious to check in on his progress. Schwalbe had rushed through her shower, but he looked mere minutes away from serving them.
"It‘s nice to see you without your mask. And it‘s nice to see you," he said softly, and her eyes flickered up to his. The compact kitchenette almost appeared stifling then, their bodies close but never touching. 
When she didn‘t reply, Alejandro continued. His voice was a little hoarse and strained this time. 
"Why didn‘t you take the job?"
Schwalbe had hoped, foolishly perhaps, that they could just skirt around that awkward-as-hell topic. Ignore the elephant in the room until it turned into a mouse and scuttled off through the cracks. And, truthfully, hearing him ask so out of the blue was the last thing she expected in that moment. 
"I‘m not sure I can follow," she lied back through her teeth, and the annoyed exhale Alejandro let out meant that he didn‘t buy it one bit.
"Was it because of this?" He gestured between them, his hand waving between their chests. "And if you try and tell me that you don‘t know what I mean I‘ll have to start questioning myself."
"Ale-" she started, voice soft and apologetic. It made him turn abruptly and turn off the stove, before glancing back at her over his shoulder, gripping the countertop.
"I thought you were fond of me," he said, and though his tone remained deceptively neutral, his eyes spoke of hurt. 
"I am!" Schwalbe protested, aghast at the possibility of him thinking otherwise. "You wouldn‘t be standing here otherwise, would you?“ 
She grabbed his elbow and turned Alejandro towards herself again, uncomfortable with the distance that had built up as rapidly as a heavy door closing between them. What on Earth had triggered him into starting this conversation now? 
"I don‘t know, you tell me. I thought we had a good time, but then I have to learn from Ghost of all people that you‘re leaving straight after a mission."
Ghost?
Alejandro‘s mouth turned down into a frown even further. 
"Who do you think put my number into your file?"
"I-," Schwalbe began to stutter and stepped away from him, but Alejandro followed her at the hesitant movement. He didn‘t corner her per se, but his entire demeanor was so domineering that she still felt trapped in his presence. 
"I don‘t know!"
"You don‘t know." It wasn‘t a question.
Schwalbe threw her hands up, exasperated.
"I just… panicked, okay? I have never done anything like that with someone I work with. I thought you would view me differently, that it would change things."
He was glowering, eyebrows drawn together over his expressive dark eyes.
"So you regretted it, is that it?"
She squirmed, unsure how to answer without hurting his feelings. Her silence seemed to do a good enough job.
Alejandro swore in Spanish, withdrawing from her completely. Schwalbe mourned their lost proximity as soon as he was gone.
"You didn’t feel pressured, did you?" He ground out, eyes wild.
"What?" She squeaked, and then everything fell into place. God, she was slow sometimes. "No, of course not! I had wanted to get closer to you for ages, and I was really happy when you said you‘d take me into town. It almost felt like a date and-"
"It was meant as a date," Alejandro interrupted her, exasperated. 
"Okay then," she amended, wringing her hands but not daring to touch him when Alejandro looked ready to bolt, even if it meant leaping off her small balcony. "So we went on a date, but I never felt pressured into doing anything with you that night. If anything, you tried to be a gentleman."
Schwalbe had been the one that wanted to kiss him again and again, that had insisted on going back to his SUV instead of continuing their night out. The memory of his mouth on her skin and his hands as they explored her body made her flush, and there was no way in hell she could hide it.
She‘d been doing her best to not stare at his long fingers the entire way home, where they had wrapped around the steering wheel of her car as Schwalbe directed him to her flat.
"So why?" Alejandro asked again, tone sad and desperate as his eyes darted between her and the food and the rapidly darkening night sky beyond the window. "I can take a rejection, you know. We could have talked about it, and just stayed friends if that’s what you want. Get to know each other better. But running away, only to text me again months later? Really, Schwalbe?"
His expressive hands clenched and unclenched, like he wanted to grab hold and shake some sense into her stubborn head. 
Tears started to prickle in the corner of her eyes. She felt blindsided by his sudden outburst, his angry passion not unfamiliar - but Schwalbe had never felt it directed towards herself. Never would have thought that he had been this affected by her leaving.
"Fine," she spat, angrily wiping at her eyes before crossing her arms defensively over her chest. "I messed up, I admit it. I thought it would compromise my work, and the career I‘ve been building for the last fifteen years. Do you know what had been running through my head for the entire duration of our last mission?"
Alejandro loomed over her once more, like a moth drawn to a flame. He seemed angry and exasperated and hurt but so was she. Why did he have to come at her so hard over this? Why not just… ask gently again? Her nerve endings felt exposed, and she hated crying in front of the man that had somehow wormed his way into her heart.
"What did you think about?" He asked, eyes drilling into hers. 
"Instead of focusing on the fucking plan, all I could think was please let him be okay. Please let him come out alive-"
His hands were on her cheeks and jaw in a heartbeat, tangling in the wet strands at the base of her head. Alejandro‘s mouth cut off the pitiful whine that escaped her, disrupted the way her voice had cracked over her confession. 
He kissed her with so much force that they stumbled backwards a little, but then Schwalbe hastily clung onto his waist and biceps as he drew her close. His thick thigh pressed between her legs, and Alejandro crushed their bodies together almost desperately.
The kiss wasn‘t full of seduction or finesse, just raw need and pent-up longing. He parted from her for only a second, but Schwalbe surged up again, unable to stop herself now that he was finally close. 
Compromised. Yes, she sure as hell was. Running away hadn‘t changed a damn thing about that. 
As though he had read her mind, Alejandro swiped his tongue over her lover lip, but didn‘t engage in anything deeper than that when Schwalbe eagerly opened her mouth. Instead, he pulled back again, and kept her head firmly in place between his hands as he looked down at her.
"Tell me," his voice was little more than a grating over gravel, his accent so much more pronounced. "Tell me you‘re happy in Europe. That you made the right choice."
"Ale," she whimpered, and felt his large thumb brush away a stray tear running down her cheek. She clung to his waist, wanting nothing more than to kiss him again and forget about everything, but he would never let her hide again.
"Say it," he said, barely a whisper. Their faces were so close, she could count the freckles on his nose, see the tiny patches of grey hair that interspersed his beard. 
"No, I didn‘t."
"And if I put in a request for you to transfer, will you at least consider it?"
Her face contorted, phantom angst and pain for him already clawing at her chest. 
"I don‘t know if that‘s a good idea. I‘d just be worried for you all the time, and that‘s not fair towards the rest of the team-"
"I think," he interrupted her, pressing one hard kiss to her mouth. "That I‘d feel a lot better if I could see you around every day, instead of worrying what might be happening to you here."
When she didn‘t reply, Alejandro sighed and leaned his forehead against hers.
"For weeks I kept looking at the table that you and our fantasma always sat at. Hoping that you‘d be there, eating his dessert, laughing at his unfunny jokes-"
"Simon is very funny," she protested, smiling for the first time. "He‘s an acquired taste."
Alejandro snorted, then pressed his cheek against hers, speaking directly into her ear now. His low voice sent shivers down her spine as he muttered her actual, real name.
"Will you at least consider it?"
She held him harder, and fought against the giddy smile bubbling up.
"Only if your cooking is as good as you promised."
He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, then pulled her in for a hug, arms wrapped firmly around her as Alejandro rested his chin on her hair. Schwalbe slid her hands up and down his back, breathing him in. Free of dust and leather and sweat, he just smelled expensive and delicious. 
But before she could act on the familiar burn of desire that had slowly built with each kiss and touch from him, Alejandro released her again. He had the audacity to wink at her pouting face, then turned her around and marched her to the miniature kitchen table that was crammed in the corner.
"I shall start convincing you now," he explained, then took the vegetables out of the oven. 
"It‘s going to be much harder without dessert," she warned in a mock-serious voice, and was rewarded with his wonderful smile.
Several weeks later, Schwalbe sat through yet another mind-numbingly boring meeting, where her superior officer and the Head of Intelligence kept singing each other’s praises as though they had been the ones to pull the trigger. Completely ignoring the fact that several good men had lost their lives in the confrontation with Guzmán, that an entire block of civilian houses had to be evacuated in one of the poorest and most dangerous districts of Berlin for a whole day.
It had been going on and on for the last few hours, with lots of handshaking and the promise of another hefty bonus from one of the SpecGru shadow company accounts. 
And just as Schwalbe considered taking her leave to get away from the sucking up, her smartwatch vibrated.
Alejandro’s name popped up, with an image attached to it. 
AV: Looks way too empty without you there, amor.
She squinted down at the dark picture, then had to stifle a laugh. It was the backseat of his SUV.
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Phew, when I say that Schwalbe has grown super dear to my heart I mean it. I love her, with all her emotional hurdles and questionable employer choices. I wanted to leave it up to you guys wether or not you think they hooked up again or took it slow, and I think there might be room for more of this story in the future. I headcanon Alejandro to be very emotionally aware and confrontational, our baby boy was hurt for real - but he couldn’t show it in a room full of people he doesn’t trust. Thank you again for everybody that has waited so patiently. I am still writing from my phone and life has really been testing me recently. So your reblogs and comments, hearts and messages mean a lot! ✨
Until next time, my sweet chocolate puddings! - A 💖
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My general COD writing masterlist with all my stories including this one, a COD headcanons masterlist + the COD Halloween Monster Special. It‘s all linked separately in my pinned blog post for easy navigation as well!
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tagging you because I thought you might be interested in Part 2! 🤭: @marmie-noir @alwaysshallow @valacircareads @astraluminaaa @wren-solos @domaniquessidehoe2
Orange and rainbow dividers by: @cafekitsune ✨
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seldonhari · 3 months
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Jared Harris as Professor Joseph Coupland in The Quiet Ones (2014)
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jharrisgifs · 3 months
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THE QUIET ONES (2014) — Jared Harris as Prof. Joseph Coupland
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forgetmenauts · 9 months
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Howdy! Could we get a member introduction? I’d love to get to know y’all’s names and pronouns ^^
We actually did an essay and interview for the queer horror zine The Quiet Ones last year where we shared some fun intros! I've included screenshots of our intros here, but if you have a chance, you should check out the zine as well: it's run by a delightful group of queer authors and editors.
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Here's the link to the issue with the Forgetmenauts feature: our bit starts on page 47.
(Fun fact: Kit is also an author and has had a couple of their short stories published in other issues of the zine, under their full name of Katharine Gripp. They're here and here if you want to check them out!)
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Walker Staples (they/them) Instrument(s): Guitar/Banjo/Vocals
Favorite scary movie or book: Let the Right One In.
Favorite cryptid: Jackalope. Who in the band is most likely to survive a horror movie, and why?: I think it's gonna be Tyler; most resources, best equipped for building booby traps.
Tyler Gary (he/him) Instrument(s): Clarinet, Saxophone, Trombone, Keys. Favorite scary movie or book: Recently I read Mexican Gothic and while it wasn't my all time favorite, it definitely captured some good haunting creepy vibes. Would recommend for the mushroom horror.
Favorite cryptid: The chupacabra. Who in the band is most likely to survive a horror movie, and why?: I'd be the second or third to die. “Quick everybody, I have a plan! All we have to do is...“ *Dies in a horrible dramatic way*. I think Abe would be last to die. He would disappear early on and we would think he's dead but he actually just went on a hike and came back at the end.
Abe Finkelstein (he/him) Instrument(s): Cello, un-mic'd backup vocals and banter, howling. Favorite scary movie or book: Oryx and Crake. And I listened to a great podcast about Midsommar but will probably never have the guts to watch it.
Favorite cryptid: The Baba Yaga house. Who in the band is most likely to survive a horror movie, and why?: Definitely Emma. She lives on a sailboat and is a great problem solver, and good at engineering. You might think I was on a hike but I was actually dead the WHOLE time.
Danielle (she/her) Instrument(s): Drums!
Favorite scary movie or book: I am scared easily and don't really watch horror movies! You
didn't ask about this, but my favorite scary-ish video games are The Last of Us and Dead Space.
Favorite cryptid: Loveland frog. Who in the band is most likely to survive a horror movie, and why?: Walker, they would out-maneuver the attacker/swarm/ pathogen/whatever the horror of the horror movie is.
Kit Gripp (they/she) Instrument(s): Mandolin, vocals.
Favorite scary movie or book: Sunshine by Robin McKinley (ok so it’s not that scary but there’s lots of blood and vampires, so it counts).
Favorite cryptid: Nessie. Who in the band is most likely to survive a horror movie, and why?: Probably Collin. If it were something corporeal, he'd knock it out with a baseball bat. If it were an angry ghost, he'd talk to it and de-escalate the situation.
Emma Williams Instrument(s): Bass.
Favorite scary movie or book: House of Leaves.
Favorite cryptid: Selkie. Who in the band is most likely to survive a horror movie, and why?: I think Walker would be the most likely to survive because they are very nimble and quick.
Collin (he/him) Instrument(s): Drums!
Favorite scary movie or book: Hard to pick a favorite scary movie! Maybe Let the Right One In (the original one). It's rare that horror films are at once so beautiful, disturbing, and sympathetic to the villain.
Favorite cryptid: Michigan Dogman. Who in the band is most likely to survive a horror movie, and why?: Kit survives the horror movie, for sure. Zombie flick? Kit decapitates the shambling hordes with lethal pirouettes. Teen slasher film? Kit distracts the villain with some concocted-on-the- spot YA fiction just long enough that he doesn't even notice he's walking right into his own poetic and ironic death. Vampire horror show? Please. Kit was the vampire. Kit was always the vampire.
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haredjarris · 2 months
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just finished The Quiet Ones (2014)
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jesstasticvoyage · 2 months
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The Quiet Ones is one of my comfort movies
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cryingscreencaps · 6 months
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venoms-chickens · 2 months
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Watched The Quiet Ones last night. Solid horror movie. JH was absolutely gorgeous in it.
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may8chan · 1 year
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The Quiet Ones - John Pogue 2014
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robsclan · 2 years
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Robert at the "The Quiet Ones" Los Angeles premiere on April 22, 2014 ▫️✨▫️
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littleharleen · 1 year
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i know you, you're like this when shit don't go your way you needed me to fix it and like me, i did but I ran out of every reason now suddenly you're asking for it back could you tell me, where'd you get the nerve? yeah, you could say you miss all that we had but i don't really care how bad it hurts when you broke me first you broke me first
request by @yourfreakish
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captaincolossal · 1 year
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Okay, it took some doing, but I found an interesting enough theme for tonight's double feature. I mean, I could say this was inspired by some discourse in the horror group I'm in on fb, because some British rando was dunking on American horror, as if there haven't been any "decent" or "real" horror films out of the US in the last decade. But then everyone else started dunking on British horror, as if there haven't been any notable British horror films in the last decade and anyway, people will start shit about anything. I think said British-rando didn't like M3GAN (2022) or something real arbitrary.
Anyway, British horror double feature! Also both films are from the 2010s, but set in the 1970s, so that could also be a thing.
The Quiet Ones (2014)
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Oh. this is one of those true story ones.
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toherlover · 3 hours
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it’s 2:30am in nyc and i just heard THUNDER. i missed that soft rumble so much:,) i was ticked i couldn’t fall asleep but then i heard that and suddenly its like i stayed awake for a reason
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when-this-you-see · 8 days
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Birthday Love and Adoration to Fred ‘Mr. Rogers’ Rogers
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14-15 year-old Me. Even with plumb colored hair. Piercings. Undeveloped body of a boy. I was ALWAYS searching for a "Mr. Rogers" type of man. To keep all to myself. I was. But gave up long ago. In this day and age. Perhaps. They've all been. . .extinct.
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mzannthropy · 5 months
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Just rewatched The Quiet Ones, that one film with Sam Claflin that I always forget about (not bc I intentionally ignore it, like those two movies, but bc it's so forgettable). It's actually not a complete trainwreck, albeit not a good film, but could have been better. It's always more frustrating seeing something with actual potential not delivering than an outright bad movie. Anyway, The Quiet Ones is a horror, or supernatural thriller, about a professor at Oxford uni leading an experiment on a young vulnerable woman who he claims is possessed by a demon. It's a good cast, Jared Harris plays the professor (seems that really suits him lol) and Olivia Cooke is the possessed woman--and she's good at it too. Sam is a young cameraman hired to film the experiment, but he's not a university student.
I like Sam in this, and I like his character; he starts falling for the possessed woman and tries to protect her. I'd say, if you want to dive into Sam's filmography, this one is not essential but check it out if you have nothing better to do. Probably same goes for Jared and Olivia, though their fans will get more out of it, I think.
It's quite a nicely shot film and in places looks a bit dark academia. The ending is lame, though.
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simcardiac-arrested · 5 months
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i think what pisses me off the most is that last year, nobody had trouble going against russia. companies dropped everything so they could keep russians off their sites, to block them from their news articles and to sanction in other ways. eurovision kicked it out. even steam, discord, any fucking western apps or websites have been so willing to perform in ‘activism’. musicians and celebrities speaking out and country-blocking their work, and so much more. but now what? where is all of that now for israel? where are all the brands leaving the country to ‘protest’? where is anything? what pisses me off the most is that none of them have actually really cared about ukraine, ever, and none of them care about palestine now.
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