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#alejandro angst
sexydoffyman · 3 months
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Hi, could I request a cod x male reader specifically one with an insecure Alejandro who thinks his boyfriend might be cheating on him with another colleague of his. I love the possessiveness trope lol
CHEATING?
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genre: angst
characters: Alejandro Vargas
A/N: Lotta regret goin on here🐳
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He is jealous, very jealous. He used to be a fuckboy, and he definitely had more than one girlfriend in the past. But with his choice of women, he got cheated on a lot. That is where his insecurity began to grow.
He thought about it and came to the conclusion that he better try it with a dude. And again, now, due to his personality, he got cheated on multiple times. He was frustrated and tired. He wanted to give up on dating anyone.
That was until he met you. You were different because of one thing. He approached the other people. You were the one to approach him. You hung out, had fun, and eventually, you got together. But this time, Alejandro really fell in love. With the other ones, he had them to have the relationship status. He finally understood what it meant to love somebody.
And with his came a little problem. His insecurity really started to shine through. He was scared. Scared you'd find someone better. All it took was your friend to look at you suggestively.
He was fuming. As soon as you got home, he started breaking shit. You tried to calm him down. You wanted to talk to him about it normally. He started accusing you, "Why would you do this to me?" "Alejandro, you really need to sit down and chill out for a while."
He started yelling at you. You tried defending yourself by yelling back. Unfortunately for you, he was the bigger one, so he was able to corner you rather quickly. His hand gestures made you flinch. He was always really expressive with his body language, but you never experienced this.
"Just calm down for a while. Nothing happened!" "WHACK"
Your world went quiet for a while as you fell to the ground. He just kept on yelling, not having a care in the world that you had a bloody nose. He really caught you off guard. You finally caught your breath. Instead of fighting him, you just let him yell it out.
When he was done with his yelling, you finally spoke. "She's a lesbian." A long silence filled the room. "We went to school together, and we used to make sexual jokes all the time." You got up and looked him in the eyes. "You are not the man who I fell in love with." Those words stabbed him like little daggers.
"Wait!" He tried to stop you as you began walking to your shared bedroom. You stopped in your tracks to hear him out. "I'm sorry for accusing you. I should've listened to you." Anger filled your bones, and with one fast move, you punched him in the jaw.
It didn't really phase him. He just looked at you in surprise. When you actually faced him, he saw how angry you were. And the blood on your face that was now staining your shirt. "You didn't even bother to apologise for this." His face showed his horrified expression.
He really didn't want to lose you. He dropped to his knees and begged you to stay. You pushed him away with your leg. It was more of a kick than a push. You were livid. "You first accused me of being unloyal, then you hurt me, and now, instead of saying you didn't want to hurt me, you said you didn't want to lose me."
You sat down and cried. "I thought I found the one." He looked at you as if he wanted to give you all the love in the world, but you wouldn't let him. Tears started forming in his own eyes. "Let me make this up to you."
You ignored him and stood up to get your things. He got up and grabbed your hand "Please!" You slapped his hand away. "I don't want to be with someone as ignorant as you."
All he wanted was to not lose you, but because of his actions, he did exactly the opposite. He fucked up.
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Note
Hihi!!
I absolutely adore your writing!! I hope you’re having an amazing day/night!
If you don’t mind, could you please write ghost/Keegan/roach/Gaz/soap finding out gn!reader was falsely accused of being a traitor and tortured for information while they were away on a mission? Like they come back in the aftermath after the accusations were debunked and reader was proven to be innocent and tortured for apparently nothing
Please don’t feel pressured to write this!! I wish you the best <3
a/n: hi!!! I don’t know if you’re the same anon that requested and I answered but this ask is from forever ago- anyhow! Since I already did all these characters for this idea I’ll be doing some other ones :)
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Price:
-felt more guilty then anyone on 141. He was your captain. And your lover… and he managed to fail to protect you in both fronts over some silly reports and a few lacking papers and a mission he got stuck on
-couldn’t stand to even touch you. It felt like hurting you even further, or hurting your soul whenever he tried
-he knew you said you forgave him.. but how could anyone truly apologize nor forgive something like that??
-truly felt like a failure. He failed to protect you as a lover. He failed to protect you as a captain.. what if he failed again? To blinded with work like he was last time?
alejandro:
-about to find and KILL whoever reported you without him knowing. He was the colonel. He should have been TOLD.
-to see your wounds littering your body while laying next to you.. shattered his trust in Los vaqueros ever so slightly, and shattered his soul ten-fold
-found who reported you and almost killed them if Rudy hadn’t held him back and calmed him down
graves:
-held. Held it all in. All of his feeling and anger and the guilt whispering into his soul ‘if you had gotten back earlier they would have been okay’ or ‘how could you let your partner get hurt like that? Failure of a man.’ Haunting his very being
-tried to avoid it all, tried to hide like a coward, tried to ignore it and throw himself into mission after mission
-but he couldn’t ignore you.. and couldn’t face you either.. the only time you truly saw him was when you slid into his barrack to sleep next to him and even then he looked haunted
-eventually got the courage to apologize on his hands and knees. Breaking down and holding you tight in his arms
konig:
-the second he came back from mission he looked for you, only to be told you were a traitor. A scum. A sell out.
-he tried to not listen. He KNEW you, he knew how much you loved kortac, but the ideas slipped into his mind none the less
-the second he heard he was right? He was torn between beating up anyone he heard call you a traitor, or beating himself up for thinking the same
-when you were finally back on base, he picked you up and held you tight, tears sliding down and staining both his mask and your shoulder, apologies and ‘I love you’ falling from his mouth in shaky tones
-his strong hands were always on you from that moment on, his calloused hands running softly along your new scars or holding your hand in meetings
-he never went on mission without you again. He’d rather die in your arms then have you be tossed away and hurt where he can’t save you ever again.
rudy:
-seriously watched his heart fall apart to see your wounds after the fact, the feeling of helplessness looming over him like a shadow
-hated that anyone could have ever even thought someone as stunning as you would work for the cartel
-hovered over you and helped you with EVERYTHING. He couldn’t stand to apologize without crying, so he did so by acts of service as a apology
-he couldn’t tell if he was helping you simply to help you, or to calm the guilt raging in his heart like a burning fire he was stuck in the center of
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icarustypicalfall · 7 months
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LAPSE OF SOUL
Alejandro Vargas x fem!reader
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based on a request 𓆩♡𓆪
summary: lost between your love for him and the dangers surrounding you, your heart couldn't know peace.
reader's callsign: Leal
warnings: sfw, angst, description of weapons, injury, infertility, wounds, slight blood, hospital, hurt and comfort, guilt, reader Inserted, no use of yn.
note: i spent more than a week working on this and i kida hate the end .. hooe you enjoy and find it at your liking, might rewrite it oneday .. 🫶🏻
“Until the flower of this love has blossomed this heart won't be at peace”
You left from the jeep, brushing off the dust that had settled on your dark uniform, proudly displaying the patch with your callsign, "Leal," affixed to the right side. Though seemingly simple, you cherished it dearly. The Colonel had chosen it for you, and you couldn't help but secretly admire it a tad too much. Like a delicate lily amidst a thorny bush, he had handed you the patch with a wink.
You still vividly remember the moment he enthusiastically patted your back, grinning, after witnessing you effortlessly bring down his largest men with a swift but powerful punch to their guts. You were indeed an underestimated soldier, a courageous little mouse among towering elephants.
However, your Colonel, Alejandro, appreciated your confidence and loyalty, which earned you not only a unique name but also a special place in his heart. He couldn't deny the profound admiration he held for you. He fell hard, with your presence penetrating his heart like an arrow, finding its infinite home amidst the layers of muscles and veins, awakening the deepest recesses of his being.
Alejandro Vargas was, without a doubt, a romantic. Growing up in a family where love took precedence, he believed in soulmates, and he believed that you were his destined love, his heavenly abode. What had you done to him? He watched the walls he had erected around his heart crumble effortlessly, disappearing at the mere glimpse of your eyes.
"Such unprofessional sentiments," he pondered. "Leal would never love me."
"Alejandro would never love me, honey," you whispered to Maria as you brushed her hair. "Besides, we're just friends. Ignore what Uncle Soap says."
The little girl pouted, and you smiled, hugging her with a laugh. Maria was an orphan, her parents having lost their lives during the cartel incident four months ago. You didn't have to beg to let her stay at the base; Alejandro knew how deeply you cared for children and allowed you to take care of Maria alongside the medics and the chef.
Whenever you accompanied him for routine inspections around the city, you wore a smile on your face while passing by little children. Under your breath, you cursed the cartel men for their vile games and showered affection upon those innocent souls. Growling in frustration, you earned a chuckle and a pat on the knee from Alejandro. Unconsciously, he would place his hand on your thigh, while the other firmly gripped the steering wheel.
The six-year-old child looked at you, perplexed. "But why? Is it because you are not from here?"
You sighed, shaking your head with a smile. "No, things don't work that way. We are just teammates."
"Does that mean I can't marry Uncle Gaz?"
You burst into laughter, attracting a few stares from the other Vaqueros. Alejandro glanced up from the opposite end of the mess hall. He gazed at you, cradling Rudy's baby in his arms, Pedro. His closest friend gave him a knowing look, and he smirked.
"You're zoning out again, hermano," Rudy remarked.
Alejandro was startled for a moment, but he took a deep breath and sighed. Pedro, the newborn baby, looked at him with his big dark eyes.
Maria ran towards them, followed by a giggly "Leal." She was the godmother to every baby at the base, always caring for them and cooing at their tiny faces. She carefully lifted Pedro from Alejandro's arms, their hands brushing against each other, bodies almost touching. He inhaled her scent, almost intoxicated by its sweetness. Rudy smiled, observing his teammates' flushed and nervous faces. Asking them to be his son's godparents had been a brilliant move, nearly costing him an eye after Alejandro delivered a five-minute nervous monologue on why he shouldn't be the godfather. This man was a bundle of nerves, aware that he would be close but never close enough, by your side but never entirely with you. You were a star beyond his reach, and he was just a boy tethered to the earth, bound by fear.
Maria gazed at you, her grin widening. "Uncle Ale, you should marry Auntie Leal, and I'll marry Uncle Gaz. Everyone will be happy," she babbled, earning a laugh from Rudy and a scowl from you and Alejandro.
You could barely conceal the blush that crept onto your cheeks, dismissing it with a nervous laugh as you cradled the baby in your arms. Oh, how elated you were to be his godmother, alongside Alejandro. The nerves were undeniable, but amidst them, you still felt a glimmer of excitement, of hope. Maybe one day, you would stand before Alejandro, nodding along to the words of a priest as you gazed into each other's eyes. Perhaps one day, you would hold your own child, whose laughter would resemble his father's. Oh, God— that laughter that melted your heart and tingled in your chest.
Maybe you would have twins, or triplets, or perhaps a little girl who would be immersed in the love of her gentle parents.
Snapping back to reality, you realized that you had been staring at Alejandro's chest while lost in your daydreams. Apologizing softly, you brushed off the tightness that had settled in your chest, clutching your heart and squeezing, as if trying to suffocate the fleeting hope of you. You knew these were mere daydreams, and this love would never bloom.
You sighed, gently patting the baby's soft hair and breathing in his sweet scent. It brought you a sense of solace. Bearing the children of your beloved was the silent prayer of hope. Perhaps reaching the moon on foot seemed easier than making that sweet dream come true.
𓆩♡𓆪
The mission proceeded smoothly, with Alejandro successfully forging alliances with both the Brits and the Americans to dismantle their long-standing nemesis, the cartel's leader, Valeria Garza.
Seemingly effortless, wouldn't you agree?
However, the situation took an unexpected turn, causing every plan to crumble into chaos. What in the world happened to make soldiers scatter in all directions, their sole objective being to survive amidst this war and bring the cartel to it's downfall?
Valeria Garza, the astute yet malevolent woman, and you, a virtuous soul, were almost equals, each with distinct paths and objectives. The sole factor that set her apart from you, making her superior, was her past connection with Alejandro. It was a realm you could never reach.
Observing the slightest change in Alejandro's countenance whenever Valeria Garza's name was mentioned, you reluctantly acknowledged that you would never have an opportunity to rival her. Though not prone to jealousy, you silently yearned for even a fraction of the affection Alejandro held for Valeria.
Your assigned duty was to remain vigilant, stationed in the corridors, ever watchful for any potential threats that could endanger your beloved.
Alejandro and Sergeant Mactavish ventured deep into the building, their voices issuing stern and furious commands over the radio. In that moment, a fleeting desire emerged within you, wishing that those whispered orders were directed to your ear, the warmth of his breath gently caressing your ear, his gloved hands delicately brushing against your burning flesh. You would have absorbed his words, even if they concerned Valeria, as long as it meant he held you close, so very close.
Meanwhile, Alejandro seethed with anger. The original plan entailed infiltrating and neutralizing Valeria, yet it appeared she was attempting to flee. Time was not on his side, and he lacked the energy to devise an alternate takedown strategy. Clutching his weapon tightly, he sprinted through the corridors, urgently calling for backup.
You, however, were the first to abandon your post, exposing yourself to enemy fire and eliminating any threats encountered along the way. Moments ago, your radio malfunctioned after smashing it on a guard's head. Your objective was to reach Valeria's office on the top floor and stand by Alejandro's side. Taking refuge in a storeroom, you clung tightly to your rifle, awaiting the next move.
A race, that's how it could be described. An exhilarating race against time, where rational thoughts and principles dissipated, making way for primal instincts. Gunshots pierced the air, mingling with incessant shouts. Alejandro pursued Valeria, cursing and bellowing as he dispatched her henchmen. She reached the elevator while he struggled to elude the guards on the staircase.
Meanwhile, you remained concealed in the storeroom, peculiar noises reaching your ears. Frowning, torn between adhering to regulations and the overwhelming need to stand by Alejandro's side, you muttered a curse under your breath. Succumbing to the commotion, you cautiously ventured forth, diligently scanning for any potential threats.
"Looking for me, papi?" Valeria sneered sarcastically, as one of her men delivered a precise punch to Alejandro's gut, sending him crashing to the ground. He coughed, tasting the metallic tang of blood in his mouth, wincing at the pain. He watched his former lover walk away, leaving him once more on the brink of death.
Consumed by fury, Alejandro gradually reached for his gun, his mind still reeling. Unbeknownst to him, he inadvertently pulled the trigger, and the lone bullet remaining in the chamber found its unintended target— you.
As your body crumpled to the ground, your attempt to intervene and push Valeria came to a tragic end. The bullet struck your lower abdomen, eliciting cries of agony.
"Leal!"
Alejandro shouted, dropping to his knees beside you. He frantically clutched your hand, striving to calm his racing heart and staunch the bleeding in your abdomen, all the while whispering apologies. It was an unintentional error, as mistakes are prone to happen. He had even accidentally shot himself before. So why did this overwhelming sense of darkness engulf his heart, as if he had committed an unforgivable sin? Was it because the one he had wounded was you, or did he loathe himself for causing you harm? Your tears immersed him in a sea of guilt. Abandoning the mission, he delegated it to his men and swiftly gathered you into his arms, rushing toward the nearest vehicle.
You didn't recall much of the surgery, for hospitals had always been an unpleasant environment for you since childhood. The sterile white and gray walls, along with the peculiar odors, had always made you feel queasy. However, your discomfort paled in comparison to the throbbing pain emanating from your abdomen. Every movement proved torturous, and you had to stifle your cries of agony and bite your lip as you gingerly adjusted your bandaged form between the white sheets.
Having just woken up, you noticed the faint light seeping through the curtains, indicating that it was already daytime. A blanket lay haphazardly on the couch, suggesting that someone had spent the night there. However, your memory of events since the accident remained hazy.
The door creaked open, and a weary-looking Alejandro entered the room. He coughed nervously, avoiding your gaze as he spoke. "Good morning, leal," he began, sighing and settling onto the couch while taking a sip of his coffee. "I... I am sorry. I should have been more attentive. I apologize for shooting you."
A chuckle escaped your lips before you nodded, trying to ignore the pain once again. "It's alright. As long as you'll pay me well, I don't mind," you replied.
Alejandro smiled, relieved to see that you weren't upset. He nodded, standing up as a doctor entered the room. Although you weren't exactly sure what was wrong, the doctor's expression indicated that something serious had occurred.
You had always strived to maintain a positive outlook, believing that there was a silver lining to every situation. However, as soon as the words hung in the air, you found yourself slapping a hand over your mouth, suppressing a cry of agony.
"I am sorry to inform you, miss, that you are no longer able to conceive. The bullet wound has caused irreparable damage to your reproductive organs, and we had to take necessary measures due to the severity of the injury."
The doctor slowly retreated, allowing you to process the news. The unexpected nature of the revelation almost tempted you to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Silent tears streamed down your face as you stared at your hands, feeling a sense of hopelessness overwhelming you for the first time in a long while. Confusion and melancholy intertwined within you, leaving you unsure of what exactly you were experiencing—hatred or pure desolation.
Alejandro, too, was overcome with anguish. He collapsed onto the couch, the burden of guilt weighing heavily upon him. He had not only caused you physical harm but had also deprived you of something you longed for. He remembered the conversation you once had, where you expressed your deep desire to have triplets, giving them matching names and creating a nurturing environment for them. That night, he had drifted off to sleep, envisioning himself, you, and your little family living happily in a cozy countryside home.
Now, Alejandro was at a loss for words or actions. His mind seemed to freeze, leaving him in a state of confusion and pain. He slowly sat on the edge of your small hospital bed, reaching for your hand and whispering, "I am sorry, amor." The name tugged at your heart, simultaneously tempting you to push him away and yearning for his comforting touch.
"I know that nothing can truly make up for what you've lost, and you may come to despise me for this, but I want you to know that I am genuinely sorry," he confessed truthfully, looking into your eyes while gently cupping your chin.
"I would never hurt the ones I love."
Your gaze snapped to him, wondering if this was a figment of your imagination. His face exuded serenity, as if a burden had been lifted after his confession, feeling now lighter than a feather. Alejandro's fingers caressed your cheek, his cold touch against your burning flesh causing you to shiver. You managed to whisper, barely audible, "You... you love me?"
"If I had been blinded the moment I laid eyes on you, I would not grieve, for in that instant, I truly beheld perfection."
As if testing the waters, you leaned in closer, cupping his cheek and running your fingers through his short beard, feeling the softness of his skin beneath your touch.
Slowly, you leaned in, finding solace in a gentle kiss—an embrace filled with agony and burning passion. In that moment, there was no need for explanations, for it simply felt right.
• masterpost • requests are open • <3
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empresskylo · 11 months
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call of duty ೃ⁀➷ NSFW headcanons
↳ includes: ghost, price, soap, and alejandro.
⋆。°✩ CONTENT WARNINGS | afab!reader, rough sex
cod masterlist | main masterlist
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𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓
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Ghost
♡ ghost has a size kink for sure. loves being bigger/taller than you. loves towering over you. loves covering your whole body when he fucks you.
♡ he’s a growler (-: i mean, his voice is just really deep and that in combo with his accent causes him to make growling-esque noises in bed.
♡ but he was really quite quiet when you first fucked. he was used to having to be silent when he jerked off because teammates were always around somewhere. and so he didn’t even realize how quiet he was being until you said something. he was even a bit shy at first but once you showed him how much his sounds got you off, he was glad to oblige and let loose.
♡ he doesn’t like to “choke” you, but he likes to rest his hand around your neck in a firm hold allowing him to hold you steady so he can fuck you deeper.
♡ he’s rather simple. he likes a few basic positions. it gets the job done. he doesn't see the need for any wild or crazy positions when fucking you missionary, doggy style, or against a wall gets both of you off. he will do new stuff with you if you ask tho.
♡ really likes to praise you. he’s got a praise kink but only for being the praiser lol. he loves to tell you how good you feel, how pretty you look, how well you’re taking him. especially when you react to his words, fuck, he loves knowing he can do that to you.
♡ however, when you praise HIM, he gets all flustered and legit fucking blushes! my guy isn’t used to soft compliments, only ones about his combat skills. so when you say sweet things to him like how good he feels, how hot he looks, how turned on he makes you, how perfect he feels inside you, how badly you want him… he blushes. every. time.
♡ professional pussy eater. he very much enjoys going down on you, usually touching himself simultaneously. he’ll yank you to the end of the bed and wrap his arms around your thighs to hold you down. he likes when you ride his face too. he’s been known to get you off like that and make the two of you late. he moans a lot too when you ride his face. loves when you use him to get off and he can't help but moan at that.
♡ he has fucked you with the handle of his knife before and then made you lick it clean.
♡ gets a perverted sense of gratification when he sees you limping after fucking you senseless.
♡ has a breeding kink. he accidentally let it slip one day when he was fucking you, just about to come, when he moaned out in strained breaths “i need. to fucking. breed you.” (my brain: *414 error*) it doesn’t necessarily mean he wants kids, but he just loves the idea of getting you pregnant/coming inside you/breeding you.
♡ definitely a dom. but can be a sub when need be. he wasn’t sure about being submissive at first, but he’s learned to love it. he likes when you boss him around and tell him what you want. even likes it when you edge him and don’t let him finish, dragging it out painfully. but that’s only occasionally, he usually likes to be the one in control.
♡ comes the hardest when you tell him you love him as you're orgasming. he's a romantic at heart.
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Price
♡ daddy kink.. i mean… com’on! he gets flustered as fuck when you call him that in public. usually, you’ll say it quietly or whisper it to him. it’s a rare sight to see Price so flustered. and he definitely punishes you when you get home. (that’s if you even make it home. as long as no one can see, he’ll fuck you anywhere)
♡ wants a video of you for when he’s away. you were shy at first so he just recorded your lower half while he was fucking you, the only thing visible was where your bodies were connecting. but he could hear all your moans in the video and that was plenty for him. he’s watched the video countless times.
♡ keeps a naughty polaroid of you in his wallet
♡ reallyyy likes to go down on you. he would spend the rest of his life between your thighs if he could.
♡ loves to tease you and make you beg. he’ll have you on your knees, begging him to fuck you. and of course that gives the cheeky bastard an aura of arrogance, but it’s hot on him so its ok.
♡ he specifically likes to tease you while you’re training together. watching the way you get flustered and try to ignore his innuendos and subtle hand movements on the more intimate parts of your body. then, when he has you alone, he’ll make it seem like you were the one causing all the distractions. he’ll stay fully clothed and strip you down, fingering you while you stifle your moans. “this why you were distracted today, love? thinkin’ bout my fingers inside of you?” (when, in fact, you were trying to train and he was the one being all cheeky)
♡ over the clothes... he is fond of letting you ride his thigh, both of you fully clothed (that, or you're in underwear and he's fully clothed). sometimes he'll fuck you with everything on, dry humping you so aggressively that you come harder than you ever have. my guy is good at what he does.
♡ quite intense and intimidating when having sex. he's demanding in a way that makes you nervous and embarrassed. always making you say things that make your face heat. "is this want you want, pretty girl? gonna have to say it. unless you want me to stop?" "tell me what you want, love. use your words." "you want me? where? gotta spell it out for me."
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Soap
♡ doesn’t love the fact that you might get off to porn when he's not around, so he sends you audios of him jerking off, whining and moaning loudly for you. he gets so turned on when you tell him you got off to his video.
♡ likes to switch between being dominant and submissive. he’ll fuck you hard and fast, make you beg, tell you what to do, and edge you until you’re a crying mess. but he also likes it when you take control, riding him and stopping just as he’s about to finish, making him whine and whimper as you suck his dick, not letting him touch you as you tease him mercilessly, likes when you wrap your hand around his neck as you ride him.
♡ likes when you scratch him up. he wears all the marks you give him proudly and secretly likes being teased by the guys about it. he'll even tell you to be rougher on him. "bite down, love, I can take it."
♡ loves blowjobs. and loves finishing on your face with your tongue out. he finds it so hot when you lick your lips, his cum dripping down your chin.
♡ likes to be slow and gentle with you, dragging it out. he wants to take his time with you. and he'll do whatever you say or want. he's constantly making sure you're doing good or you like what he's doing. Sometimes you end up getting a bit frustrated, "yes, johnny, that feels fucking fantastic, now shut up and fuck me!" "yes, ma'am!"
♡ aftercare involves cleaning you up. taking a shower together. lame jokes. braiding your hair. giving you his sweatshirt to wear. and spooning you.
♡ almost came in his pants the first time he saw you in sexy lingerie that you bought just for his viewing pleasure.
♡ has a slight oral fixation and likes to keep his mouth busy the entire time. he's always kissing or nipping somewhere on you. he loves kissing your neck, jaw, chest, just anywhere really. he often groans into the kisses, making you swallow them.
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Alejandro
♡ "if you're a good girl and don't come until i tell you, i'll make you come over and over again"
♡ for some reason, he likes to leave hickeys on your inner thighs, teasing you mercilessly as he kisses you everywhere below your hips except where you need him most.
♡ he lives for teasing. he wants you a withering mess before he even considers giving you what you need. will have you crying because of how bad you want him. those are his favorite tears from you.
♡ he will overstimulate the fuck outta you too. you come at least 3 times every time you fuck. and he'll threaten to keep going, your core throbbing in painful overstimulation, unless you do exactly as he says.
♡ leaves bruises and scratch marks all over you. but he also expects the same in return. both of you look like you got into a gnarly brawl every time you fuck. "jesus christ, were you two fucking in there or wrestling a wild bear?"
♡ he is amazing at aftercare, a big switch up from the dominant, rough sex. he'll clean you up while muttering little praises. he'll carry you to the bathroom, sometimes taking a warm bath with you and washing your hair. he'll get you situated into clean comfy clothes and curl you up into him in bed. whatever you need, he'll do.
♡ likes the thrill of getting caught. he doesn't actually want to get caught, but it's the rush of it all. he's down to fuck anywhere. he's sneaky too and can be really subtle about touching you under the table, or in a dark corner of the bar, or on the roof while you're on watch duty. but he definitely prefers when you can both let loose and be loud.
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Text
In Every Trio, There's Always A Duo
John Price X Reader
You were following behind Soap and Ghost, keeping a close eye on your surroundings while watching their six. Soap was on Ghost’s left, you were on his right, so how could they have gotten to you so easily?
A/N:this is probably the angstiest fic I've written in a while lol, the idea popped up in my head after scrolling tiktok and now I'd like you all to suffer with me(also I know I promised the Gaz fic first, it is coming! I promise!) warnings:mentions of blood, injuries, wounds, gore, depressive thoughts, thoughts of suicide, mentions of death
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Price had been the one to introduce you to everyone, saying that you were the newest member of their team. Gaz welcomed you with open arms and even offered to show you around so that you wouldn’t get lost. Soap was happy to greet you, talking too quickly for you to understand even half of what he’d been saying. Ghost was a little more closed off, friendly enough to say hello and introduce himself but didn’t go out of his way to be your friend. It was something you were used to, men in the military were one of three things. Friendly, flirty, or standoffish. While Ghost wasn’t your typical “I’m better than you” military meathead, he wasn’t an open book.
It was all fine though, you had gotten close to the rest of the group and made friends with all of them quick enough. Alejandro and Rudy were much friendlier during the first meeting, Rudy and you swapped recipes and talked about your interests. Ale joked that you would end up stealing his best friend right from under his nose. Of course you would never do that, stealing someone else’s best friend was a big no no in your book.
“I would never steal him away from you! Best friends are sacred.” You smiled over at Ale, watching the way he became flustered ever so slightly.
“Well, thank you then.” He wasn’t sure what to say, most people teased them for being such close friends, this was a nice change.
“Of course, no need to thank me.” Rudy pulled you back into the conversation, explaining how to properly cook one of his mother’s best dishes.
It went on like that for months, you making friends with everyone on the task force, along with Ale and Rudy. When everyone would go home for break you didn’t leave, assuring everyone that you would leave the following day. No one needed to know that you didn’t want to go back to your family, their toxicity pushing you to where you were now. Your mother had been an alcoholic your entire life, your father no better when he actually bothered to come around. Your brother had up and left the moment he turned eighteen, leaving you behind to suffer.
No one needed to know what happened in your past, to them things were good and you had a loving family. They didn’t need to know that you had nothing left waiting for you, no family, and no friends for if you succumbed to your death during a mission. You’d wanted to tell them the truth so badly, that you truly weren’t alright, but you couldn’t.
You were out at the bar with everyone, sitting between Gaz and Soap. The Scot had interrupted you nearly five times now, voice booming as he recalled a tale about how Price had embarrassed himself during a mission. You bit your lip, sinking into your seat and not bothering to try and speak up anymore. The night continued on like that, everyone talking about different things as the drinks flowed. You’d even learnt a little bit more about Ghost, how his parents weren’t the nicest of people, how he’d done what he could to help them. It reminded you of your own situation, abusive parents that refused to take accountability.
It continued on like that for months, you would head out with everyone and continue to turn into nothing but a shadow. Seven turned to six, six turned into five, and soon enough it was only you, Ghost, and Soap going out. Price was too busy with paperwork, Ale and Rudy had their own duties to attend to, and Gaz was seeing someone. You were happy for Gaz, he was a total catch and anyone with eyes could see how attractive he was. Though you missed his corny jokes at the tables when you’d go out. Soap was the main jokester, Ghost throwing in a few from time to time to throw the Scot off his game.
It was strange seeing Ghost without his mask, the first time your jaw dropped open but you refused to comment. Nothing more humiliating than bringing up someone’s scars to them when you’re in public. He ignored everyone who tried to flirt with him, shutting down their advances with a “not interested” before they could utter another word. That same night they left you behind at the pub, you’d gone to the bathroom to relieve yourself before heading back. When you walked out the table was empty and cleaned, surely they were waiting outside. However once you stepped foot outside you noticed the truck you’d all driven in was gone as well.
Your throat closed up as you realized they had completely forgotten you, the base was over ten miles away. Refusing to try and call them, you tugged your jacket closer to your body and made the journey on foot. Price was still awake when you arrived, feet nearly bleeding from the blisters you now had, and tears running down your face.
“Sweetheart? What’s going on?” Price abandoned his paperwork to rush over to you.
You lied and told him you were simply too intoxicated and had forgotten you had gone to the pub with Soap and Ghost, the two men soundly asleep in their own rooms. He didn’t look as if he believed you, but nonetheless he let it slide. You would tell him the truth when you finally felt ready. Instead of pushing for more answers he helped treat your wounds, and gave you some warmer clothes to sleep in for the night.
Your sleep had been restless that night, struggling to get over how much pain you were in physically, and emotionally. Maybe they had just forgotten because you hadn’t talked the entire night? Sure, that’s what it probably was.
Price kept you on light work for the next two weeks, letting your feet heal before putting you into weapons and basic training. You were being sent out on a mission in a few days and he wanted everyone to be prepared. You stuck close by Gaz and Price for the most part, not wanting a repeat of the pub again. Training was easy, you excelled with each weapon you were given and surpassed everyone else, even Ghost.
Laswell was happy with the progress you’d made since joining, happy to know you had integrated so well with everyone else on the team. It didn’t matter if she didn’t know the entire truth, or that you were miserable deep down. She lead the briefing for your next mission, you were to get the intel required and get out, taking out any hostels if needed. You were a little nervous, the last firefight you’d gone into had nearly gotten you killed. Had Rudy not yanked you down behind the pillar you wouldn’t be standing there.
The helicopter hovered as you rappelled down onto the ground, unclipping your belt and grabbing your gun. There was no one as far as you were able to see, though you couldn’t be too careful, enemies were trained to hide in plain sight. Price and Ghost lead the group, guns raised as they begin a slow but cautious walk towards the building. No one noticed the enemy as they slid from behind their own hiding spots. 
The bullets were raining down on the group before any of the guys or yourself could take cover. Price had thrown Gaz behind one of the pillars, Ghost doing the same with Soap to help prevent his teammate from becoming swiss cheese. Alejandro wrapped his arms around Rudy and tackled him to the ground, laying completely still until the sound of the enemy reloading calmed his nerves. It wasn’t until they realized that you were laying out in the open, screams ripping the air apart as you began to slowly bleed out. Ghost’s heart stopped, how the hell did they completely forget about another person! 
“Shit!” Soap turned to run around Soap’s bulky frame, grunting as Ghost grabbed the collar of his tac vest.
“You do that an’ you’re both dead!” Ghost couldn’t risk someone else getting injured, they needed to neutralize the threat.
“We need to save her!” Soap couldn’t watch you bleed out, it would destroy him.
“Stand down!” Ghost winced as the gunfire drew closer, they needed to retreat before they lost anyone else.
The group slowly retreated, watching the way your frame became smaller and smaller with each step they took. Ghost was gnawing the inside of his jaw, angry that he’d let something like this happen under his watch. Shit, they’d have to figure out how to get you back before you ended up bleeding out on the field.
“Ghost!” Gaz was staring over at the older man, eyes wide with terror.
The enemy had grabbed you, running off while they seemed to be too preoccupied figuring out a plan to stop them in their tracks. His blood ran cold, they were surely going to kill you if they couldn’t rescue you soon enough.
“Stop them!” Ghost raised the gun in his arms, aiming down the scope to try and get a shot off.
It was with a sickening realization that he noticed they were all gone, nothing but dust kicked up in the air as they fled. He’d always kept everyone safe, or as safe as he could when they were in enemy territory. This? This was his worst nightmare come to life, someone getting injured and captured because of his actions. How the hell had he not realized you were near him? While you were quiet when needed you always made your presence known.
“We’ll get them back, but we can’t go in with our heads up in the clouds.” Price was angry, they were split up into two groups. 
You were following behind Soap and Ghost, keeping a close eye on your surroundings while watching their six. Soap was on Ghost’s left, you were on his right, so how could they have gotten to you so easily?
“You let her get hurt, you were too busy keeping an eye on Soap that she got hurt!” Gaz stood up harshly, stomping over to where Ghost and Soap were crouched.
“Hey! Let’s not start going at each other’s throats.” Price grabbed onto his tac vest, stopping him before he could reach the other two.
“I saw it, she was walking too far from Ghost and instead of remembering that she was even there he saved Soap instead, and now she’s been taken by the fucking enemy!” Gaz was angry, angrier than he’d been in quite a while.
Ghost wanted to deny it, that he had been keeping an eye on you the entire time, but it would’ve been a dirty lie. It had been obvious over the last few months how little attention they ever spared you, especially him and Soap. The three of you would go out during your leave together and it was simply as if you didn’t exist to them. You were the third wheel during their conversations, trying your hardest to speak up only to be ignored.
Everyone had gone out for a night of drinks and dinner, mainly because Price all but demanded on getting off base for at least one night. Things had been silent for a little while and he needed to release some tension. You and Gaz were up getting drinks for everyone at the bar, the waitress already swinging by to get everyone’s order for food. Price had seen how sullen your expression was, the sparkle your eyes usually had seemed so dull now. Maybe this would help bring it back and things would go back to normal. You were his favorite(don’t tell Simon)and he would do his damndest to make sure you were okay.
“Sorry about the wait, bar was a little busier than expected.” You and Gaz set down all the drinks, being careful not to spill any liquid onto the, for now, clean table.
“No worries love, food won’t be out for a little while anyway.” Price smiled at the way your face flushed, proud that he could still have you blushing like a schoolgirl. 
The conversation seemed to flow easily with everyone, Gaz was telling a story from his teenage years that had everyone laughing. He’d embarrassed himself trying to impress a girl and refused to even look her in the eye afterwards. You opened your mouth to make a comment before Soap cut you off, the entire table echoing with laughter. Clearing your throat quietly you took a quick sip of your drink. 
The chatter died down once the food was brought out, everyone eating in near silence, save for the bustle of the restaurant around you. You wanted to talk about something, anything, but the timing never felt right. So instead of opening your mouth to talk you kept eating, your stomach turning slightly as you pushed the food around the plate. The chance to strike up a new conversation was dulled entirely once Ghost started talking about something. You didn’t bother to listen, eyes locked onto your plate as you tried to muster up the energy to keep eating.
Everyone was pulled into the conversation, offering their own bits and pieces here and there, everyone except for you. Why bother speaking to people who clearly didn’t notice when you did anyway? It would be a waste of energy and you needed to worry about what would happen on your next mission. Only you didn’t notice the way Price’s gaze lingered on you, a frown marring his nearly perfect features.
“If you don’t get them back, then I sure the fuck will.” Gaz knew the risks that rescuing you would entail and right now he was willing to take that risk.
“Kyle, if you go running in there you’ll be dead before you can get to her. I’ll go with you.” Price was willing to do whatever it took to get you back.
“Sir.” Soap felt terrible, had he kept a closer eye on you this wouldn’t have happened.
“No, we need to start thinking about how we’re going to rescue her, I’ll call Laswell.” Price turned and walked off without waiting for anyone to follow.
Ale and Rudy were horrified, they’d known the men for quite a while, having only just met you a few months prior, and watching the way this had gone down? It sickened them, but they wouldn’t voice those opinions out loud. They’d do whatever needed to be done to rescue you, to make sure that you came back home alive.
You, Ghost, and Soap were all sitting in the cafeteria, trying to enjoy the MRE’s that had been given to you earlier that day. A new shipment wouldn’t be in for a few more days so you were suffering through what had been left over. They weren’t terrible, but it was obvious why these were the ones left over from everyone else. Ghost and Soap had been keeping conversation going between them from the moment you sat down. You didn’t bother to say a word, simply ate your rather dry and tasteless food and waited for it to be gone so you could leave.
It was becoming more obvious as each day passed how little they liked having you around, from the way they would simply ignore you, to even brushing you off when you tried to join the conversation. It had stung in the beginning, but this was something that happened quite often, and you weren’t going to sit there and whine like a child. No, instead you learned to hide the disappointment and hurt deep down inside. If John ever found out how you were mentally, he’d have you discharged before you could even blink and stop him.
“‘M tellin’ ya! You nevah believe me!” Soap was laughing at something Ghost had said, you were sure of that, but the effort to even pretend to listen was too much.
“Oh will you stop with that? I don’t need to believe ya if I don’ want to.” Ghost rolled his eyes, shoving another forkful of…something into his mouth.
Neither of them had so much as glanced at you in the twenty minutes it had been since you’d sat down, another reminder that you weren’t wanted. Your throat closed up slightly, a sickening feeling clawing at your chest as you tried to keep the negative thoughts at bay. That was all wiped away when Price walked in, your back straightened immediately. It was a habit you had tried to break so often but never seemed to be able to.
“At ease soldier, just here to let you know that we’ll be headed out at 0400, so I suggest you get ready to go.” Price nodded at you before heading out.
You would all be debriefed on the plane ride over, it was something Price had begun to do so you went into the mission with the details fresh in your mind. Unless things were sensitive, then he wouldn’t run the risk of the wrong person hearing. Maybe this would finally be the mission you’d be left behind, a girl could have dreams right?
Soap was pacing the room, mumbling to himself to figure out how he could even try and get back on your good side. It was his fault that you were not only shot, but also captured. Price had gotten into contact with Laswell the moment they were back to safety. She was furious, asking how you’d managed to get captured when it was a simple recon. Gaz had exploded then, telling her how Ghost and Soap had been too caught up in each other to keep an eye on you. Price had to calm him down, nearly threatening him.
“There’s been an update, and before any of you say anything I need you to watch this and not rip out each other’s throats.” Laswell turned towards the screen, hitting play.
The screen was blurry for a few seconds before your slumped over form became clearer, it was obvious they’d done a shitty patch up job to your wounds. Your wrists and ankles were bound to the chair, blood dripping down your temple.
“If you want her back, we want something as well.” A voice, presumably someone behind the camera, spoke.
You laughed loudly, the sound surely causing your head to throb as you struggled to sit upright in the wooden chair.
“You couldn’t have picked anyone worse to ransom. Everyone knows I'm expendable on the team, nothing but a throwaway.” Your smile tore at Price’s heart, you looked defeated, ready for the comforting embrace of death.
They growled in anger, fist colliding with your jaw as a sickening crack echoed through the speakers. You groaned, spitting blood onto the floor with a huff.
“You don’t understand, they’re never going to come back for me. You’re better off letting me just die.” Your body was begging for death now, pain surging through every nerve ending.
The man turned towards the camera, angry that you seemed so unwilling to help get whatever they were so desperate for.
“You have two days.” The screen suddenly went black, leaving the room completely silent.
Price walked over to Laswell, afraid of what answer he was going to get for the million questions running through his mind.
“How long do we have?” The video wasn’t brand new, they would never actually give the men enough time to properly plan.
“Less than twenty four hours, we found her location from that bracelet you gave her a few months ago.” Ghost’s head whipped around, why was his captain giving you gifts?
“Everyone gear up, we need to get her back before it’s too late.” Price wasn’t going to waste another second, not when you were so close to death.
The plane was fueled up and ready to go by the time everyone headed out, briefing over the plan during the flight. Gaz would go in guns blazing if it meant saving you, and he’d force Ghost and Soap to wait until they got you. It was reckless to think that way of course, and being angry with his teammates wouldn’t do him any good either. Once you were back and safe with them he’d reprimand the other two. It didn’t matter that Ghost ranked higher than him, he’d give those two an earful they’d never forget.
“Rudy, do you have eyes on her?” Price walked over to check the monitor, a small sigh of relief when he saw your outline.
You were still breathing, the motions slow and labored as you struggled with each breath. Rudy was going to stay on the plane, keeping an eye out to make sure no one tried to sneak on. It was a risky move, especially considering he’d be sitting alone, save for Nikolai. They each geared up, checking their weapons ammunition to make sure everything was loaded.
“Hold down the fort til we get back.” Price slapped a hand against Rudy’s shoulder, nodding towards Gaz and Ale to follow him.
Ghost knew better than to argue, Price was their leader and right now he was definitely on his shit list. Soap wasn’t getting off scot free either, it had been both of them that caused this entire situation. No, the focus was solely on you, Ghost could deal with the repercussions later on when you were safe.
Their footsteps were silent, Gaz lockpicking the door before heading inside behind Price and Ale, guns drawn high as they looked around for enemies. The air was thick with tension, sweat beading up underneath Price's hat as he tried to keep his breathing steady. The sound of fists colliding with skin they picked up pace. They’d managed to find you quicker than expected, but what awaited them beyond those doors?
“Tell us where they are!” It was the same voice as your abuser from the tape, they were enraged at how you simply laughed at their anger.
“I’m tellin’ ya, don’ know shit.” You groaned as his fist collided with your stomach, doubling over in the chair as much as you physically could.
They’d been interrogating you for hours, doing whatever they could to get any information from you before they’d finally send you into the afterlife. The pain was excruciating, resonating through your body like a livewire. How long would you last before you would finally succumb to the wounds that adorned your skin?
The sound of gunshots echoed inside the tiny room, deafening you as the pain in your skull amplified by a thousand. You’d surely had a concussion, if the amount of times you’d been punched had anything else to do with it. The scent of gunpowder and blood filled the air, though you were positive almost half of the blood was yours. A hand grabbing your face caused you to flinch back violently, a terrified screaming ripping from your lips.
“Please! No more!” Whoever had killed your captors wouldn’t have the best intentions for you.
“Sweetheart it’s me, we’re here to get you.” Gaz’s voice was calm, even if his heart was nearly beating out of his chest.
“Gaz.” Your eyes filled with tears, staring back at your teammate and friend.
Price stood right behind him, eyes filled with worry at your state, they needed to get you to a medic immediately. Gaz cut through the ropes binding you to the chair, helping you to stand up. It became obvious that one of your legs was broken as you stumbled in his hold, grabbing onto your thigh with a vice grip.
“Fuck, I’m gonna let Price carry you to the plane, we’ll get you hooked up to an IV to get some fluids in you, alright?” You could barely nod but it was enough of a confirmation to hand you over to Price.
He lifted you gently, cradling you in his arms as Gaz and Ale lead the way back out. Ghost and Soap were checking for any stragglers, not wanting to leave anyone else alive. They hadn’t managed to find anyone, or anything else of importance when they met back up with you. Soap could see the way Price was holding you, as if you would turn into dust in his arms. The two men wanted to apologize, to beg for your forgiveness but with Price it wouldn’t be allowed. You needed to make that decision on your own.
“Alright, we’re gonna get you back to base soon enough,” Price had let the team medic take over, checking your vitals and setting up an IV drip.
Ghost opened his mouth to apologize before Gaz’s glare stopped him in his tracks, Soap quietly sat down in a seat without so much as glancing at you. Clearly some things needed to be worked out, and right now they weren’t going to be talked about. Ghost never backed down from a challenge, not when it came to his teammates. He’d gotten enough shit from Soap to last him a lifetime, lord knows the other man never knew when to stop.
That was the whole point though, wasn’t it? He was being taught a very important lesson about how blind he’d become. Maybe not literally, but Ghost was focusing on the wrong things and it was biting him in the ass now. Soap didn’t seem any better, silently sulking in his seat as he went through a million different scenarios in his head. How long had you been suffering in silence while they simply ignored you? How terrible of a friend was he that he didn’t even notice what was going on.
“We left her at the pub one night.” Ghost nearly missed Soap’s words over the engine of the plane.
“What?” His head whipped around, when the hell had they genuinely forgotten you during a night out?
“Remember O’Malley’s? It was that one.” Soap felt the guilt eating at his soul.
Everything began to hit him like a freight train, they were neglecting you both and off the battlefield. You were an amazing teammate and an even better friend and they’d completely taken you for granted. They didn’t know anything about you aside from that you’d joined the army at eighteen and were now with the task force. The first thing Ghost would do was apologize and do whatever he could to help ease your pain.
“We’re about to land, already let them know we’ve got injuries.” The routine medic, a man named Jacob that couldn’t be any older than twenty two, began to prep you for departure.
You’d need surgery to set your leg properly, the break was most likely a shatter which would cause an intense infection. Nurses ran out to grab the gurney, rushing you inside to get you prepped and ready. Price stood at the top of the ramp, back turned towards everyone else.
“You will not go near her at all, she’s going to need space to process and heal. Do I make myself clear?” Price glanced over his shoulder at Soap and Ghost.
“Sir I-” “I said, do I make myself clear sergeant?” Price couldn’t let his emotions take over, but losing a teammate because of someone else’s negligence.
“Yes sir.” Soap straightened up in his seat, ignoring the way he felt like a scorned child.
“Good, we’ll have a debrief once she’s out of surgery.” You wouldn’t be joining, but once he knew you would be alright Price could finally relax.
The doctor and nurses worked quickly to fix the broken bones littered across your body, extracting pieces of bone that had dug into the muscle of your thigh. It took them over five hours to fix you completely, relaying the news to Price. His shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, the worry that you wouldn’t pull through finally gone. Now it was all about making sure you healed properly.
Laswell called them to the debriefing, waiting until everyone was seated before beginning with getting every piece of information. Her expression didn’t give away any emotion of how she felt, it wasn’t the smartest thing to do, getting attached to the task force. She was a little upset with them though, being unaware of your surroundings could cost your life.
“Unfortunately, she’s going to have to be discharged..permanently.” Price slammed his hands down.
“Absolutely not! You are not sending her off after everything that’s happened.” How could they just throw you away so easily?!
“I’m sorry John, this is even outside of my own jurisdiction. She got injured during a mission and might not be able to walk properly for a few years.” Fuck, you were going to be devastated hearing this.
“If she’s gone, then so am I.” Price was risking a lot for you, but you’d saved his life countless times before.
Laswell sighed, running a hand over her face before heading off to contact god knows who and see if they could keep you as part of the task force. He hadn’t fought to get this team together for nothing, and he would do whatever he could to keep everyone together. Things would work out, they had to.
—---------
You’d been struggling through physical therapy, learning to walk after having your right femur reconstructed was not easy. Price had found you the best physical therapist in all of England, determined to make sure you made a full recovery. It warmed your heart that he was so willing to help, to make sure that you were safe. He’d been by your side for months, helping you settle into your apartment and all but moving into the spare bedroom.
“Sweetheart, you’re doing amazing.” Price was standing at the opposite end of the walk way, ready to catch you in case you lost your balance.
“Fucking hurts.” You winced, arms shaking as you struggled to keep yourself upright.
Price hadn’t wanted to tell you, but Ghost and Soap had wanted to apologize, to sit down and have a discussion about everything. He wouldn’t push the subject if you disagreed, you deserved to be treated with respect first and foremost. It would be better to wait until you were back in the apartment where you could relax. Maybe he could give you one of his sweaters to wear, you always seemed to relax when wearing his clothes.
Your physical therapist was happy with your progress, saying that you were exceeding expectations and could possibly go down to three days a week instead of four. It made you feel a little bit better, knowing you were doing so well. You hadn’t been in the apartment for longer than two minutes before Price was wrapping one of his jackets around your shoulders. It was something he tended to do when he had bad news.
“Now you have every right to say no, but Johnny and Simon want to come by and talk.” John waited to see how you would react, knowing physical therapy had been a good day he felt optimistic.
“What’s there to even talk about? That they don’t see me as anything other than an annoyance? John, we're having a good day, I don’t want to ruin it.” Your eyes were pleading with him.
He wanted to argue that this conversation needed to happen or else things would only get worse for everyone. So, instead of listening to your pleas of “don’t you dare call them” John let them know to come over. He’d make it up to you later with a great dinner and some dessert. After all it was the very least he could do after subjecting you to their antics. Hopefully Johnny didn’t end up saying the wrong thing and pissing you off even more.
—-----
No one had dared utter a word for nearly ten minutes once Johnny and Simon arrived. The taller of the two had forgone even his surgical mask, muttering how it felt wrong to hide. Johnny was twiddling his thumbs, waiting for someone to break the ice so that he could make amends. John had made you a cup of cocoa(extra marshmallows and whipped cream as always). Simon sighed to himself before straightening up in his seat on the couch.
“No amount of I’m sorries will ever be enough for what happened. We never truly realized how shitty our actions were because we’d gotten so used to routine that adding someone else didn’t feel natural. I’m not saying that as an excuse, you didn’t deserve what happened, and I fully blame myself for you getting taken and for all of this.” Simon gestured vaguely to where you were perched in what was apparently John’s favorite chair.
You glanced at Simon over the rim of your mug, sipping the warm liquid as you soaked in his words. Simon wanted to mention the dollop of whipped cream on the end of your nose, but John beat him to it. He reached over and gently turned your head to face him, wiping off the cream with his thumb. Your smile was radiant, eyes sparkling as you stared back at your captain. 
Oh.
Oh.
This was something entirely new, but it also explained why John had been so angry that you were going to be discharged originally. Somehow they’d convinced Laswell, and whoever else, that you were too much of an essential player to lose. You were in love, and here they were intruding on an otherwise very personal moment. John suddenly seemed to remember the other two were there, awkwardly clearing his throat before sitting back in his seat.
“It’s going to take a while before I can fully trust you guys again, I’ve been through a lot in my life but having my teammates basically throw me to the wolves? It fucking hurts.” Maybe it was time to finally come clean about your life and who you truly were.
You couldn’t stop the words from spilling out, telling them about your abusive home life growing up before finally making it out and finding a purpose in life. How on every break you would stay on base and make sure it looked like you’d left when they all came back home. You didn’t want their pity, you just needed them to finally understand why you were hurt by their actions.
John had carefully scooped you up and placed you into his lap when tears began to slide down your cheeks, comforting you the best way he could. Simon could understand your pain, having dealt with abuse from his own father growing up. It was a reminder that sometimes the strongest people were often hiding the darkest past. He’d done the same thing for years, refusing to open up and let anyone close.
“We really just wanted to apologize for treating you like shit, and wanting to make sure that you were doing better now.” Johnny could see that even being shot, tortured, and left for dead that you still had that shine to you.
“I know, I’m just going to need time to process everything, it hasn’t been easy.” You wanted to forgive them, but deep down the feeling that it would happen all over again ate at your mind.
“I understand lass.” Johnny nodded, he would gladly give you time to process and even see if you could forgive him.
John set you back into the chair so he could walk Johnny and Simon out, promising to keep in touch if anything changed. He wouldn’t disrespect your decision, and with the other two being on board he wasn’t going to argue. Now it was time to sit and think about what he could make for you to make up for everything.
“Hey, I just want to say thank you for everything you’ve been doing, it means a lot.” You pushed yourself off the chair slowly, stepping over to John who looked seconds away from panicking.
“You don’t need to thank me love, it’s my pleasure.” He kept his hands out, ready to help in case you needed it.
“You’re doing a lot more than you might think, so yes, I do need to thank you.” You rested your hands on his shoulders, slightly winded at how far you’d had to walk.
John’s hands slid to your waist, pulling your body closer to his. He wanted to lie and say it was only because he was afraid you’d stumble. How would you react to hearing about his true feelings? Knowing that he’d harbored a crush for frankly much too long than was appropriate to be honest. Your gaze landed on his face, lips parted as you watched the way his eyes dilated ever so slightly. John couldn’t stop himself before he was kissing you, lips pressed softly against yours. You would be a liar if you’d said you hadn’t dreamt of this before, hoping that John felt the same way towards you.
You were the first to pull away, face flushed and lungs desperate for air as you clung to the cotton shirt John wore. A small chuckle slipped through his lips, fingers digging into your hips as he pulled your bodies closer.
“I’ve wanted to do that for quite a while if I’m being honest.” Your heart was racing, had you really heard him correctly?
“So have I.” You rested your forehead against his chest, relishing in the warmth he exuded.
Neither of you made to move from the kitchen, simply wrapped in each other’s embrace. You couldn’t forgive Simon and Johnny for causing the damage they did. But maybe they helped push you into the right direction. tagging: @gaylemonshark
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dimicul · 27 days
Text
jealous smug ex bf ghost 🫡
this is not edited and i wrote this at 4am 😭
thinking about the silent smouldering confidence radiating off of ghost when he knows he’s better in every way compared to your new boyfriend.
he doesn’t understand you the same way. sure, maybe your relationship with him wasn’t the most perfect, but it’s gotta be better than this arsewipe you picked up from the streets. he just doesn’t get you; your little tics, what makes you smile, laugh, cry, snort — cum.
you see it in every subtle jerk of Ghost’s body, every glance he passes you. pure smugness when your new boy toy drops the weighted gun several times, snaps at you when you try to help him; you can’t even point it out or go berserk if Ghost breathes in your direction, because nobody else sees it - just you. he reckons that’s why you’re perfect for him. nah, he knows it.
you suppose it’s a curse of some sort - it’s not like your boyfriend is a complete dickhead, but he messes up once and you find yourself wondering if Ghost would have done the same. if he’d allow it all.
“You’re pointin’ south.”
Ghost rolls his shoulders back, head cocked to the side as he watches your boyfriend turn in LT’s direction, lips pressed in a thin line. You keep reminding him it’s the other fucking way, that he had to practice the day before, because he knew how important this was to you—
“Yeah, got it L.T.” He says through clenched teeth. Ghost says nothing, but the mask shifts a little and you want nothing more than to wipe the smirk off of his face.
It doesn’t help when he releases the trigger and misses.
“Just keep trying.” You urge your boyfriend through clenched teeth, offering a smile. Ghost watches it all, how quickly your mood plummeted, how you’re sparing him worried glances. he’s not gonna pity your sod of a boyfriend, but since you’re so worried, he’d consider it. well, he tries to, when that boyfriend of yours moves harshly out of your way and readjusts his pose. It’s humiliating and it doesn’t go by unnoticed.
“There you go,” Your boyfriend simmers to himself when the bullet pierces straight into the makeshift dummy opposite him.
“Good job.” You sigh out, weights rolling off of your shoulders.
“Didn’t need a compass either.” Ghost remarks, void of any emotion as he turns to saunter off.
Despite your mental efforts, you can’t deny the sex is… awful.
You feel terrible as you roll onto your side, a layer of sweat on your skin, looking all tossed up. You should feel… good, right? Yet it doesn’t. It wasn’t the same; no familiar ache between your legs, the immediate sleep after, the same large hands that knew every inch of your body.
“Fuck sake,” You shove your face into the small cushion next to you, voice muffled. Here you were, laying beside your boyfriend, thinking about how much you’d rather be sleeping on the cheap issue of Ghost’s mattress.
You were royally fucked up.
Everyone notices your bad mood the day after; you’re slamming doors, sighing irritably, cricking your neck to the side, knees jittery. Ghost drinks it in, God he fucking revels it. Poor girl.
“Needed this, didn’t ya?” He’s rasping in your ear later that night, your head buried into the pillow deep somewhere in the barracks, ass up in the air for him. Ghost hisses, hips snapping against you. He can tell you needed this — course that pretty boy’s not been takin’ care of you, he doesn’t know you. Doesn’t care to.
“Fussy thing,” Ghost grunts, large hand moving to fist your hair, earning a whimper in response. You’re clawing at the sheets beneath you, breathless, unable to conjure up some lame jab because he’s so deep in you you swear you’re seeing stars.
“Greedy too. Yeah, you fuckin’ like that,” Thrust after thrust, you clench around him, taking him so well, because after all; you’re his. His girl. You moan into the pillow, earning a chuckle from the man as he stills, gloved hands on your hips. God, you know he’s making you late to training but you can’t seem to care.
“Doesn’t fuck you right, does he, love?”
“Si —” You’re panting, lolling against the pillow, jaw slack when large hands spread your legs wider, tattooed skin against soft flesh.
“You got a fussy little pussy,” He groans, base of his cock stilling again, right at that spot you love. “Need’a be fucked proper.”
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here-but-forgotten · 2 months
Text
you lost me. / valeria/wife!reader.
content notes — ex-wife!valeria. sweet alejandro. little shit rodolfo. mean valeria. plot heavy. el sin nombre foreshadowing. rudy weirdo rizz.
part one \ part two
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A confident knock echos from the door through the walls, dancing around your ears as the noise registered, for you to finally walk to the door that had never been knocked before,
With a slender foggy window lending you a quick glimpse of the figure, you open the door, your eyes landing on a chest where you expected the eyes to be.
“Hello,” he starts, confident but still speaking volume, “Could I ask you some questions?”
You look up at him, blinking; not fully in a uniform but not in casual clothing. Lines around his eyes. Facial hair turning grey. Dark eyes. Intense eyes.
“Um,” You start, adverting your eyes from his, “Could I ask why first?”
He adjusts, halfway awkward, shifting his weight.
“That’s an understandable ask,” He answers, relaxing a little, “I’m Colonel Alejandro Vargas, I wanted to ask you some questions related to Valeria Garza.”
You pause, blinking.
“Your last name is what?”
“Vargas.”
You stifle an insecure giggle,
“I thought you said ‘Vergas’—“
“No—“ Alejandro cuts you off, letting a small smile escape from him, holding in a laugh, “no, God didn’t curse me with that.”
You let yourself giggle, covering your mouth and turning a bit away as he lets out the chuckle he held in, laughing with you.
“Sorry,” You laugh a little, finally taking a breath, “What are you asking about?”
He pulls his demeanor together, a bit more serious,
“If I have been told correctly, you are who she claimed to be her wife, yes?”
“At one time I was, yes,” You shift, “Not anymore.”
“Did she leave any sort of technology here?”
You tilt your head a bit, looking up at him.
“She did. Is that a problem?”
Alejandro sighs at your inquisition.
“I have some reason to believe she took something that could track her location with her when she has done work for me. If she did, there is a lot someone could gain from that if they did track it.”
You look aside, thinking about that damned dinged up phone.
“Would it be a threat to me?”
“I would say, without much other info, that yes it could be a threat to you.”
You don’t respond.
“I don’t know you, but I do know what has recently happened,” He starts, “If someone could track it, she could track it, and could track you.”
“Do you want me to give it to you?”
“If you are able, yes.”
You turn, leaving the door open,
“You.. You can come in, if you’d like.”
You move, his footsteps following you briefly and stopping as you walked further into the home, finding the half-held together phone that she left that you had kept in what used to be her bedside table. You stop, looking at the bed; the new sheets on it looked nice, it finally looked comfy, like somewhere safe. And theres a small pang in your chest, that the person who used to make it warm was gone, the person who was why the bed wasn’t just a humble full size, but,
it was for the best, and you told your chest that everyday.
You deserve someone who gives you the time of day, who makes time for you, even if they’re busy.
And you turn on your toes, walking back to the entrance way that the Colonel sat at—
Colonel Alejandro Vargas.
Col. A. Vargas
CAV.
“Do you think, by any chance, that you were contacting her with this phone?”
You look to him— his hip leaned against the counter with his arms casually crossed, his eyes gentle but alert, his expression once relaxed turned into his eyebrow raised.
“It is a possibility,” He murmurs, “It seems like the two of us learned a lot recently.”
“Valeria?”
“No, you and I.”
His stare is unwavering, not so assertive but ever confident, making you shift on your feet as he watched you.
“Yeah. It would seem like the two of us have.”
He lets out a small hum in response, eyeing the phone being held together by tape and faith.
“I’ve seen that one before,” He says, lowly, to himself more than you.
“She has a lot of phones.”
“Is that so?” he asks, watching you.
“Yeah, she probably had 5, at my guess now,” You shift, “But I know that you guys sometimes have a lot of phones—“
“2. We normally have 2.”
His gaze is a bit intense, not directed at you, yet it still sent a small shake through your body; there was a certain charm, yet that didn’t stop the intensity of his thoughts.
Silently, you offer the phone to him, looking up to him, soft blinks trying to pull him from his thoughts.
“Thank you,” Alejandro says after a moment in his thoughts, delicately taking the phone from your outstretched hand, fingers brushing yours softly; his touch is hot, like he was running on coals—
“Did she ever introduce you to any military personnel?”
“No.”
He raises his eyebrow at that.
“None?”
“No. I only found out about you from her accidentally saying something.”
Theres a type of pity in his gaze, maybe even guilt.
“Does she have any sort of surveillance on this property?”
“No. I don’t think she would come back for it anyway. Frankly, she hasn’t been back since she left.”
“When was that?”
“A week or so now.”
“Did she introduce you to.. anyone?”
“Not really.”
“Did that not concern you at all?”
His tone is gentle, lacking any judgement.
“It should have. But love makes you dumb sometimes.”
He tilts his head in an agreement, glancing down at the phone.
“Have you entered this phone or deleted anything off of it?”
“I’ve looked around it, but I haven’t deleted anything. It’s all as I found it.”
Alejandro nods, glancing off to the side for a moment, letting you watch his face; his hair isn’t really “done”, only combed back with fingers, some curls breaking free from pomade, curling around his ear.
“I’m sorry you had to go through all of that,” he says after a moment.
“I’m sure you’ve gone through worse.”
“I chose to go through worse. But you didn’t.”
You watch him, his words full of soft mercy.
“I suppose I didn’t, but I made it.”
He nods again, looking back to you.
“I’m going to leave you a number. You call it if you ever need something. Especially if she comes back to give you a hard time,” He explains, back to his colonel voice— you assume— not leaving much room for discussion.
You watch him, his movements are confident, leaving a small writing pad with the top sheet scribbled on, a phone number, a title— “los vaqueros”
“The cowboys?” You ask tentatively, looking up at him.
God he’s big.
Shush.
“I don’t have time to explain all of that,” He says, a bit affectionately, a little smile, “But if you need something, you call this without hesitation, okay?”
“What if it’s stupid?”
His eyes are a bit soft.
“It won’t be.”
His eyes leave you, looking at the counter, noticing the little shine on the countertop— still where Valeria left it.
“Did she really walk out and just leave her ring?”
You don’t look at it.
“Yeah.”
He rolls his eyes.
“She’s a walking headache.”
“She’s a charming walking headache.”
“I’m aware,” he grumbles shortly, not irritated at you.
“I,” you start, grabbing his attention immediately, “I don’t know what happened with you, really, but I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”
“She’s not your problem to apologize for anymore.”
“I know, but it still sucks to go through something like that, no matter who did it.”
His gaze is soft.
“You’re a very sweet woman.”
His eyes glance away from you, a bit awkwardly,
“I have one… thing to tell you, but it’s not fun.”
You pull a deep breath through your chest, crossing your arms over your chest,
“Rip the bandage off.”
Alejandro shifts, leaning against the counter, mimicking your crossed arms,
“She had that marriage license nullified, somehow, a while ago now. Maybe half a year.”
The news should rock you, pull through your bones, crush your soul a bit— but it’s hard to be disappointed by something you have no faith in.
You stand for a moment, letting the words set in, waiting for your stomach to fall, to crumble your very being up into a useless little paper ball, but it doesn’t come. Your head isn’t light. Your feet are grounded. Nothing sways your balance.
“I can’t say I’m surprised,” You finally say, not looking at him.
Alejandro is quiet for a moment, tense.
“You’ve already told me to not apologize, but,” He pauses, shifting his weight to one of his feet, “That’s why I didn’t fight back, when she approached me. She told me it was long done.”
“You can’t control her bullshit.”
That pulls a laugh out of him, from deep in his chest, releasing the tension he held.
“Yeah, I guess I can’t.”
He shifts again.
“What’s more frustrating is there is other— falsified— paperwork that now says you’re dead.”
You shift, uncomfortably.
“So now there are documents that don’t line up. On one, you two have divorced— in the United States— and on another you’ve been dead.”
“What would she gain from lying about all of that?”
He sighs.
“I have no clue. I cannot, within my position, just assume things based out of interpersonal actions; however, I don’t think anything innocent would come out of that.”
“She didn’t falsify a death certificate, did she?”
“No. That’s what tipped all of this off.”
You finally move a bit, letting your body relax.
“Something is up with her. I have no idea what.”
Alejandro is lost in thought for a moment, staring at the opposite wall; you watch him, the gears turning in his head with a focused but somewhat serene expression, eyes slightly moving as the follows his thoughts—
“I should be going now. Please, use that number. There are dangers she could have exposed you to without you knowing,” Alejandro murmurs, walking to the door, you silently following him. You grasp the door knob as he enters the door way, your hand gently touching his back— the touch making him jump a little.
“Thank you,” You murmur, your touch leaving him resting your hand on the door, meeting your eyes over his shoulder.
“Of course.”
You close the door, watching his figure walk to a jeep— confident stride, nice body hidden under military clothes, gentle eyes—
Don’t you dare.
You breathe deep, moving back into the home, the sunlight twinkling in through the curtains, warm sunset light dancing like little figures, warming up the light in the room. His voice— his words— rattle around your head, her antics annoying you more than they were able to hurt you—
This has been long dead. It has been dead, since she seems to have officially killed it, but now the dead weight had been removed, like matted hair that couldn’t be saved. It’s been shaved off; it wasn’t fun, but now it’s better. You are better. You are growing back. You are lighter. You are able to breathe.
You turn on your toes, walking back to the counter to look at the pad with the number written on it; his handwriting, or whoever wrote this, isn’t bad but it’s not pretty. A bit slanted. Legible. You take the pad in your hand, feeling over the writing— written with a ballpoint pen— before pulling out your own phone, entering it under a quick little new contact, marking it LV.
If she gets to have cryptic contacts, I do too.
You place it back down, looking into the greater house, warmth flooding in the sunlight.
You think it should hurt more— something so momentous ending— yet it also makes sense. It died slowly. There is no cruel, fast pain in a slow death. There is slow pain, the type that slowly makes your joints go still, where your chests twists and breaks, piece by piece, like peeling off old paint. It wasn’t a quick death. There was no quick cut, no guillotine, no bullet, no knife. It was a slow poison. It was terminal. When you realize it’s dying, it hurts. You wonder what you did wrong. You blame every piece that you didn’t do on yourself, just to try to rationalize it. To try to make it make sense. But sometimes, death comes, and sometimes it is slow, and sometimes it is quick, but death has to happen. It has to. Death allows for rot. Rot allows for growth. Growth is new life. There is no new life without the rot that death provides. But there is still no less hopeless ending than death, if you are not looking for the new buds of flowers.
You breathe, escaping your thoughts for a moment, looking out the windows, sun pungent and powerful.
And it should hurt more, that instead of even growing up and coming to you to say she wanted it to end, that she decided to do it on her own, to cheat with two people, to just use you as a housekeeper until she came back, just to be a bedwarmer. But at this point, it wasn’t anything new. It was the first infidelity— that you knew of— and it was two cases of it, yet it wasn’t surprising. Disappointing, but not surprising. Disappointing as a situation, not disappointing for her. Theres a few sentences, a few conversations that haunt you, between you and her, still; when her attention was on you, she still spilled her rotten blood onto you, almost to temper you into it—
Things about her impatience with partner, things about how she really didn’t like talking about her feelings, how she found relationships as a distraction. How she never admitted her feelings, she just let them die. How she knew that work would always mean more to her than a relationship. And how she tried to shroud it in telling you how you were the exception— you were the one she would put work behind for, the one she’d admit her feelings for, the one she’d stay loyal for. Exceptions to a rule are delicate. And sometimes, they’re just a lie. And how she had no hand in picking out the house, she let you pick it out, like a dog picking their favorite kennel.
Your eyes leave the sun light, blinking the haze away as you notice movement outside, grabbing the notepad quickly— throwing it in a drawer quickly— and striding to the door, an all too familiar figure standing, not moving.
Moving away from the door, you tap the newly formed contact, moving to the bedroom as the phone rang against your ear.
“¿Hola?”
It wasn’t Alejandro.
“Um, hello,” You awkwardly start, the other person breathing a sharp breath, “Colonel Ve-Vargas gave me this number in case I needed something.”
There is a pause.
“Oh. You.”
Pause.
“Is something wrong?”
“Valeria Garza is back, and she has a man with her.”
Pause.
“Do not answer the door, and keep away from it. Hang tight. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” you say in a softer voice, the other’s breath hitching at that.
“Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?”
“You don’t have to.”
“Then you’ll see me soon.”
Click.
Ominous.
His voice wasn’t Alejandro’s, something a bit more smooth about his delivery, ever slightly colder.
And so you moved to the bedroom door, silently closing and locking it, watching the covered windows for any movement. You sit on the floor beside the bed, as to not have your silhouette in the window, watching. Waiting. There is a soft distant noise of talking, Spanish, a bit rushed and irritated. Her Spanish. Romance languages can be many things, but she fully embraced the Roman cruelty in her words. Footsteps. Around the windows, tracing the house. Only two pairs of footsteps.
Until.
A bit of irritated shouting, from the door, following the footsteps around the house. You move along the floor, against the wall closest to the window, trying to listen—
“— do you think you’re doing?”
“do not lecture me—“
“go back to the cars. now.”
The same slightly grumpy voice, and hers.
You follow the trail, standing in the kitchen, keeping an ear out.
“I own this property—“
“Valeria, I cannot tell you how little of a shit I give. You directly disobeyed an order.”
“It was an overreach!”
“Don’t care.”
“Rodolfo—“
“That’s Sergeant Major to you.”
“I am going to stab you.”
“You won’t.”
Pause.
“I just want to talk to her.”
“Leave your gun then.”
“But—“
“I’m impressed you got someone who wanted to spend the rest of their life dealing with you.”
Pause.
“Leave the gun and I’ll let you speak to her.”
“What are you, my father?”
“If I was your father, you wouldn’t act like a fucking brat.”
Pause.
“I really want to kill you sometimes.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
Knock knock.
You move to the door, peering to see a male figure standing outside of the door. You slowly open the door.
“hello?”
“Neña—“
“Shut up. I’m the one who spoke to you on the phone,” He cuts her off, “Do you want to speak to her or do you want her gone?”
“I can speak to her. I would appreciate if you stayed though,” You respond calmly, sweetly, looking up at him, his gaze gentle on you.
“I wanted to speak to you alone,” Valeria starts, her voice scarily gentle, keeping her tone even.
“I don’t want that.” You say firmly, the man standing between you and her. Another man hangs behind, looking like a dog with his tail between his legs.
The man nods, staying where he was, but moving a bit to let you see Valeria.
“Do you not trust me anymore?” Valeria asks softly, her gaze soft. A trap.
“Do you think I’m that stupid?”
He snorts.
“I know I’ve messed up, but I miss you.”
“Okay.”
He cracks a small smirk, turning his gaze away from the two of you.
“I didn’t mean to leave you behind.”
“You can accidentally hit someone with your car and it’s still manslaughter.”
She rolls her eyes, her façade dropping for a moment, only to recompose herself.
“Can I come inside?”
You look at the man, his gaze both interested and bored, his eyes meeting yours for a moment. You move, pulling his forearm inside the house, his body moving stiffly at the movement, following you. Valeria shoots you a glare, following. The other man stands outside.
“Lovely, I really never noticed how bad we had gotten,” Valeria says, reaching for you as you move back, the man standing beside you, becoming a silent comforting presence, “But I don’t want it to be over.”
“I gave you as much as I could, and that wasn’t enough. So how would now be any different?”
“I can change.”
“Just between you and me,” He interjects, leaning towards you, inches from your ear, “She’s been a bitch since she was 8 and couldn’t find the tooth she had lost.”
You giggle.
“This has nothing to do with you,” She sneers, glaring up at him. He only shrugs with a slight smile.
“This is exhausting, you know,” you say, pulled together, calm, “you can’t start caring about something once it’s dead.”
“It’s not dead, it just needs to be restarted.”
You blink.
“Valeria, we’ve been dead for months.”
“We haven’t—“
“What about that marriage certificate mess?”
She pauses.
“It was for your own good, I don’t want someone finding you because of me.”
The mans head tilts a bit in your peripheral vision.
“Aside from us not legally being one anymore, you barely gave me the time of day. I could be right in front of you and you would ignore me. I was here the entire time, like a fucking little kid, waiting on you, only for you to never give me anything in return.”
“Relationships aren’t transactional,” She says, bitter. Thick with bitter. Patience running thin.
“No, they aren’t. But they do take work on both sides to work. And I can’t carry the weight of two.”
Valeria is quiet.
“I wish you had left me wandering about you, it would have saved me a lot of heartache,” you pause, “You made me feel like I was your world, then you ripped it away the minute I accepted that.”
“You like accusing me of a lot,” She snaps, the sweet glaze finally washed away, “I gave you everything I could.”
“‘Everything I could’ is disingenuous if you had to divide it three ways.”
Valeria sighs, deep, angry,
“If you would just fucking shut up for once and let me talk you would act right!” Her voice booms, flinch taking your gaze away, your head light as your thoughts block themselves out. You stand spinning, feet still but disoriented, and all of a sudden, you were small again. You were just polishing dishes to make her happy. You were throwing out that perfume you loved and she hated. You were waiting up until you fell asleep on the couch, only to wake up alone with dirty dishes to clean. You are small again.
“Garza.”
His voice cuts through the haze, confident, unwavering. His touch rests on your shoulder blade, weighing you back down on the uncomfortable reality.
“This doesn’t fucking include you.”
He sighs, his fingers gently rubbing your back, warmth seeping through your clothes.
“Could you act grown for once?”
Valeria is quiet.
“Your picket-fence has been sharp as knives. You never loved me. You wanted to collect the hearts you took.”
“I hate how you make me out to be the bad guy.”
“Valeria, I am tired of you. I am so very tired. You owe me so much sleep.”
“Why do you want to give up on us?”
You sigh. The two of you would just talk in circles until one of you died from exhaustion.
“Valeria, I could give you my heart and you would forget you had it. I could tell you time and time again the extent of my love and you would find no worth in it. I could drop everything to make a little piece of your life easier and it isn’t enough for you.”
“You were enough.”
“You say that like a faithless prayer. If I ever was enough you wouldn’t run to other people. If I was enough you wouldn’t have attacked me over a simple question. You wouldn’t assume that I was the thing that always hurt you. You wouldn’t only think of me first when something went wrong. And it doesn’t matter what I tell you, because I know you won’t believe me.”
“Why wouldn’t I believe you?”
“You haven’t believed me before,” You hesitate, the mans presence beside you evident, vulnerable, “I held out every night for you. I thought you’d notice me— not my body, not my wit, not my helpfulness— but me. And that never happened. I told you I felt bad, and I ripped my heart apart to try to get you to care, and the only thing you did with it was turn it against me. You told me I could lean on you then guilted me when I was too heavy.”
You shift, swallowing thick, trying to soothe your constraining throat,
“I remember when you acted like you loved me. You acted like I was your favorite toy, like I was the one you’d keep on your bed, the one you’d put in pretty dresses and kiss before bed. Then the minute— the fucking second— I thought you would be gentle with me, you ripped it all away. I sought after you day after day after day and I got nothing. And now I know, you had the chance to. I just wasn’t your priority.”
She stares. Your eyes tingle.
“I kept convincing myself the more attention and love I gave you, the more I’d receive. That when you didn’t reciprocate, you were just in a bad space. But it’s been years. There hasn’t been a day where I could just talk to you. And I’ve learned now you were spending them with other people. I’ve learned I’m the thing you keep in your back pocket when no one else will talk to you. I’ve learned that I’m the pretty toy you show off that you got just to throw me under your bed. I cannot imagine that you love me when I have never been what you wanted. Bad times come, but bad times don’t mean you run away from love. You go towards it. And you found it else where.”
You swollow again, choking on your own throat,
“I’ve been the stupid schoolgirl chasing someone who never looked me in the eye this entire time. And I feel stupid for it now, but I choose now to break out of it. You never claimed you love me so until we were dead and gone. You can’t dig up the corpse to hold it.”
There is silence. Your heartbeat. Your breathing. Valeria’s eyes burning into you.
“You kept me like a secret but I kept you like an oath.”
Valeria sighs.
Valeria is quiet.
Her eyes don’t meet yours.
“Go back to base, Garza. Before anymore actions are taken over this.”
“You don’t get to be in charge of me—“
“I am. Go back.”
He stands, she stands, finally moving from her place, shooting a glare over her shoulder as she slammed the door behind her, the same pots hitting the wall in her wake. A car door slamming in the same manner. Ignition. The sound leaving in the distance.
You stood, crossing your arms over yourself.
Breathe in, breathe through, breathe deep, breathe out.
The man beside you awkwardly shifts.
“I never got your name,” You say, a little croak in your voice.
“Rodolfo. Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra.”
You nod to yourself.
“Thank you.”
He hums a quiet response, relaxing his frame.
“I haven’t seen many to go toe to toe with her.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“I would say so,” Rodolfo glances past you, “She’s always had an assertiveness to her, but it devolves into brattiness if pushed enough.”
Quiet.
“Did you two have fights like that before?”
“We’ve had a couple. I joked I would call them the Great Wars. But now I just feel maimed.”
“If I had known about you earlier, I would have warned you earlier,” his voice is soft.
“Have you known her for long?”
“Yeah, grew up in the same area. I vomited on her at her quinceañera.”
“That was you?” You ask with a soft giggle, the noise pulling a soft smile from him.
“Did she still complain about it?”
“Yeah, yeah she did. I thought it was a little silly to still be mad about.”
“I did her a favor. I got her to take off that god-awful dress without having to seduce her.”
“I take it she’s never been able to charm you?”
“No.”
You laugh at that dry response, a comfortable little smile resting on his face, looking down at you with a certain gentleness.
“I don’t handle brats very well.”
You shoot him a curious look.
“Not right now.”
You glance away.
Quiet.
“Thank you for.. all of that.”
He nods.
“I would suggest you try to leave this place. She knows the location too well.”
“I…” You start, his eyes heavy on you, “It’s embarrassing, I don’t really have a way to do that.”
“Did she emotionally trap you to believe that she would be your sole provider while using that to control you in the way she wanted so you were pushed out of any career or financial independence?”
You pause.
“Yeah I guess, sergeant therapist.”
He snickers.
He stops, thinking over your words.
“If you would like, I can set you up living accommodations. No obligation to pay me back in anyway. No obligation to stay. How does that sound?”
“If you weren’t a pretty sergeant I’d say you were trying to kidnap me.”
He shifts a bit at that, flushing a little—
Is that blush?
“Well, If I did that, I’d have Alejandro down my throat. And it’s Sergeant Major.”
“Oh, you two are like that?”
He shoots you a glare.
“You have a dirty mind.”
You giggle, his face having another little smile break out.
“no, we are not,” he says with a head shake like a disappointed father.
You think, not fully clear, but the thought of Valeria randomly popping back up evident. You wouldn’t have to hear the door slam again. The walls rattling because you didn’t win the word game, or because you did. You could do your own dishes. You could strip her from you finally, pulling out the turpentine and mineral spirits, wiping yourself clean with Ivory.
“I think we could work something out like that,” you say softly, sweetly, looking up at him properly. Two moles. Soft eyes. Longer nose than Alejandro.
“You can call me Rudy, if you’d like.”
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cod-dump · 7 months
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Teen!Rudy visiting teen!Ghost: How many swords do you have?
Teen!Ghost: Sword of a lot
Teen!Rudy, immediately turning to leave the room: Blocked
Teen!Ghost, jumping in front of him: Parried!
Teen!Rudy: *stares intensely with his eye twitching*
Teen!Ghost: Uh-
(Downstairs)
Teen!Gaz: Ale, do you think it was a good idea to leave Rudy and Si alone?
Teen!Alejandro, focused on his switch: Rudy can defend himself
Teen!Gaz, hearing a yelp: Yea, that’s what I’m concerned about
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tojisun · 7 months
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alejandro vargas x fem reader; valeria garza x reader
!! reader is only mentioned
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price thought that the interrogation was over but alejandro stepped up again, anger oozing out of his pores as he loomed over valeria. price would have commended their captive for her straight face but he realized that it wasn’t a facade – valeria truly wasn’t scared. she didn’t give any shite for whatever alejandro was bound to say.
“where is she?” alejandro asks, his explosive anger having been reduced to a simmering rage – no longer sputtering but just as scorching. his change in temper almost distracted price from alejandro’s question but as it registers in his head, price’s body locks.
she. an unknown variable where alejandro is yet at another losing end. 
valeria straightened up on her chair, her aloof attitude overtaken by a startling anger that engulfs her in rippling waves. 
“far away,” she spits out. “where she can no longer be hurt by a goddamn cowboy.”
alejandro snaps his teeth, seizing valeria by her shoulder. the action spurs the rest of the 141 to flank both parties but neither valeria nor alejandro pay them any heed, choosing instead to keep snarling at each other.
“you poisoned her mind,” alejandro says. “you put ideas in her head, twisted the person that i am until you were able to make her resent me.”
valeria barks out a laugh, a sound that scratches her throat even though they could all hear the lack of humour behind it. her body shakes as she does so, throwing her head back in faux elation. through it, alejandro’s jaw clenches, his eyes furrowing even more as he watches her.
“oh vaquero,” valeria states as her laughter peters out. “i didn’t even have to do much, not when you actually left us. left her.” 
alejandro snatches his hand from valeria’s shoulder like he’s been burned, his face losing colour. valeria’s lips curl into a smirk, moving to sit back down as though her words had not stung even herself.
“i didn’t leave her.”
no one missed how alejandro had not refuted his claims of leaving valeria.
she hums, unbothered. “you chose war over our wife, vaquero. there is no excuse.”
and there it was, the missing piece. 
price tries not to react but his hands twitch at the revelation, the weight of what is happening settling in. he realizes that this is a territory that he rather not be part of so he turns, meeting rudy’s eyes and with a nod, they begin to escort valeria out. 
alejandro stays at the very back, quiet and lost in his own thoughts.
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ver0nica985 · 3 months
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alejandro and noah angst bc I genuinely hate them /j
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wingedjellyfishflight · 6 months
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Rotating Beds
You ask Ghost if you can sleep with him tonight since Price is out of town and all. He glares at you with the most hate-filled eyes you've ever seen. "He ain't been out a day, and you're already tryin to find a replacement?!" He storms away, leaving you puzzled and a bit upset.
It's worse the next morning when he sees you walk out of Alejandro's quarters looking like you've been up all night with sweat slicked hair. "So, what? You just gonna bunk with anyone who lets you?"
That night, he hears you talking in Soap's room, and he is burning with rage over the betrayal. He pounds on the door and nearly punches Soap in the face at his clueless rambling about providing you comfort while Price is gone. Ghost looks like he could turn glass into sand again with how hard he is clenching and grinding his teeth all the next day.
When you walk with Gaz to his room, he does punch him. "You have a girl, what the fuck are you throwing it away on her for?! And betraying Price, too!" Finally, you understand.
"Ghost, for fuck's sake! You are such an idiot. I have fucking nightmares without Price here. How do you not know this? Everyone takes turns when he is gone so I don't wake up in the dark alone and panic!"
His  face goes blank, and his shoulders drop, all of his rage melting away as you turn to check Gaz's face and the rapidly developing black eye. He waves you off and stalks to medical to get it iced, calling Ghost names as he goes.
Ghost almost looks small, defeated as he stares at you. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been so quick to judge you. I... Price is like the father I never had." He sighs and rubs the back of his neck before looking at you again. "It's really just sleep?"
You nod, silently wondering where you're going to bunk tonight as it wouldn't be fair to Gaz after the hit he took. Ghost gestures to his room. "The least I can do is take watch tonight, then. You can bunk in my bed and I will crash on the floor." You hesitate for a long moment, considering your options, "Ok."
The nightmares aren't better or worse than any other night, but each time you wake up, Ghost is there with a light on, rubbing your back and talking you through it.
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wttcsms · 1 year
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wttcsms winter writing week;
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𝒘𝒕𝒕𝒄𝒔𝒎𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒌
throughout the month of december, i’ll be gifting all of you fics! all fics combined will be well worth over 60k words of content + featuring a variety of characters to ensure everyone has at least one fic for their fave! happy holidays 🤍
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DEC. 1, love cuts just like a knife (you make the knife feel so good)
pairing phillip graves x f!reader synopsis lover and victim are synonymous when it comes to those who fall into phillip graves’ trap. you learn this lesson a little bit too late. alternatively: an ambitious twenty-five year old graves will do anything for recognition and a promotion. even using you, a renowned general’s daughter, as a means to an end. collateral damage is insignificant when it comes to reaping the rewards of love and war, after all.  content contains age gap (reader is 19, phillip is 25), manipulation, loss of virginity, possessive sex, possessive!phillip, lovers to enemies, naive + inexperienced!reader, mentions of pregnancy, power imbalance, breeding kink, minor depictions of violence + blood, literally heavily inspired by taylor swift’s “all too well (10 min version)” + “would’ve, could’ve, should’ve” </3
DEC. 7, yours to keep
pairing simon “ghost” riley x f!reader synopsis when your family is facing international death threats, your father requests security assistance to keep you safe. you’ll do anything to get rid of your brand new 6′4 shadow that follows you everywhere you go, but you underestimate just how far this soldier will go to follow orders; but when it comes time for him to move on to his next assignment, you find it harder to let him go. content contains diplomat’s daughter!reader, bodyguard!ghost, light degradation, praise kink, spanking, brat taming
DEC. 12, do you think i have forgotten about you?
pairing könig x f!reader synopsis when your father needs help securing his company’s biggest deal with the private military faction, kortac, you jump in with a solution. you’ll prove that your father has nothing but this group’s best interest in mind because family loyalty is practically unbreakable — and you’ll help him secure this supposedly unbreakable bond by calling in a favor with your childhood best friend: könig, who’s supposedly one of their best operators.  content contains weapons manufacturing company heiress!reader, childhood friends to strangers with a history to lovers, mutual pining, size kink, loss of virginity (for könig <3), marriage of convenience/contract marriage, forced proximity, oh no! there’s only one bed! muhahaha
DEC. 13, i know there’s a blade where your heart is (and you know how to use)
pairing simon “ghost” riley x f!reader synopsis secret intelligence isn’t the usual career path for most individuals, but you’ve been born into it. trained to be the best, you find yourself as the only spy on task force 141. you don’t expect simon riley, one of the people you’ve had to play while on a mission, to be one of your teammates. alternatively: five times the two of you miss out on the chance to be together + the one time you two finally let the tension snap. content contains semi-slow burn romance, international spy!reader, forced proximity, almost lovers to enemies to reluctant allies to lovers (relationship status: it’s complicated), mutual pining, requited unrequited love, oh no! there’s only one bed!, overstimulation, size kink, clothed sex, semi-public sex
DEC. 14, i won’t ask you to stay if you don’t ask me to wait
pairing alejandro vargas x f!reader synopsis for as long as you can remember, alejandro has always been larger than life to you. growing up, he was the boy in the neighborhood who wasn’t scared of anything; he chased off the bullies for you, he killed the bugs for you, he’s the one that carried you on his back when you scraped your knee playing outside. but then he and rodolfo leave you behind to enlist in the army. they stopped visiting and stopped returning your letters, until eventually, they’re nothing but sweet memories from your childhood. one night, though, you open the loud banging on your front door, only to be greeted by the boy from your memories all grown up and wanting closure.  content contains slight angst, hurt/comfort, ambiguous ending, childhood friends to almost lovers to strangers to one night stand, unresolved feelings, requited unrequited love, mutual pining, childhood crushes, soft sex, possessive sex, breeding kink
DEC. 15, you’re out of touch, i’m out of time
pairing keegan p. russ x f!reader synopsis you work at a high-end brothel catering towards vile, rich men and brutal mercenaries. there are rules you girls must abide by, but the owner of your brothel fails to add some important guidelines: don’t fall in love with the masked sniper who treats you like the most precious thing in the world; do not help him in taking down this whole crooked organization; and absolutely do not run away with him to start a new life.  content contains possessive sex, possessive/obsessive!keegan, slightly forbidden romance (you are a sex worker at an enemy owned brothel, keegan is here to expose the owner and take down the whole operation), breeding kink, size kink/size difference, praise kink
DEC. 16, it will come back
pairing jason todd x f!reader synopsis you should’ve known better than to take in strays; that soft heart of yours is going to be the reason why you meet your early demise. alternatively: jason todd, your first love, comes back from the dead... after hearing about your engagement to someone who is most certainly not him. ouch. content contains socialite!reader, size kink/size difference, huge breeding kink, slight dubcon, possessive sex, possessive!jason, mentions of virginity loss/first time, jealous sex
DEC. 17, i thought the plane was going down (how’d you turn it right around?)
pairing kyle “gaz” garrick x f!reader synopsis five times kyle pretends like he’s not hopelessly in love with you and just plays off his not-so subtle confessions as a joke + the one time he admits to it being real.  content contains lovesick!gaz, weapons contract auditor!reader, mutual pining, gaz has got it bad for you, praise kink, sweet n soft sex, love confessions, gaz is a golden retriever bf confirmed, jealousy
DEC. 18, no more keepin’ score (now i just keep you warm)
pairing dick grayson x f!reader synopsis the two of you have never been the type to befriend the opposite sex without some sort of benefits being involved, but with the both of you too prideful to give in to the other yet too weak to stay away from each other, something’s gotta give eventually. alternatively: playboy extraordinaire dick grayson meets his match — and much to his dismay (and desire), you just might play the game better than he does. content contains womanizer!dick x maneater!reader, slowburn, banter, mutual pining but pride and arrogance gets in the way, play stupid games; win stupid prizes, this whole fic is so taylor swift coded, size kink, jealousy, possessive sex
+ potential surprises during the week of christmas 🤍
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icarustypicalfall · 4 months
Text
Right now
drabble, describing cod men in one word.
warnings: fluff, slight angst, not fully proofread bcz m tired:(
note: tysm for all your sweet wishes, ilysm. this one for you. i know i wasn't here much. srry about that.
masterpost • ao3 •
<3
Simon Ghost Riley
tired.
he is tired. Ghost, a mere void, a lost soul trying to find it's purpose again. despite the flame and the determination, he still holds a deep gush from the past nothing can ease. Nonetheless, he doesn't let it affect him. Everyday, he shoves the thoughts to the back of his mind, deciding to rethink them all one day.
He thought that day won't come till he met you. It would take some time, the healing path is long. Might as well hold his hand tightly.
Gaz
underrated.
He is never enough. No matter how much he puts in the work, there is always a tid missing. It consumes his sanity and leaves him countless nights hopeless. The dark circles he earned are from late workout sessions, long training outside the field. He thought he'd end up being the best, he was left to nothing.
You picked him up, dusted off his clothes and shared with him a cup of tea. He didn't say much, though his silence was louder than any words. He was grateful.
John Price
old?
It didn't affect him much, people's words were nothing to him, yet he wished he met you when he was younger. He knows he isn't exactly old. But he isn't young neither.
This absurdity left him in a foolish state. Sometimes, he'd even push you away, before crawling again in your arms. Whispering apologies mixed with meloncholy. You hugged him tightly, promising to be there till the end.
Soap
Peaceful.
He might've be unserious sometimes, but at heart, he has a dream. He reminded himself of that purpose consistently, trying his best to fullfil his desire for peace. How funny, a soldier wishing for peace? He thought about it for years, slowly realizing it was impossible for him.
You proved to him peace isn't about your surroundings, but about your heart.
He never felt more seren than after he slid that ring in your finger, in front of all his friends and family.
Alejandro Vargas
Passionate.
He loves, and when he does, he commits; Holly, utterly, with his very being. But, it hurts when he puts his trust in the wrong person. He was hurt, bruised, betrayed countless times. The scars on his body and the wounds in his heart a proof to the pain he held all those years.
It was until he met you, he realized what love is. The colonel fell to his knees, shedding tears of unspoken woe he held. You were there to ease his pain.
Rudy Parra
Quiet.
He is silence, a peaceful madness, an angry ocean, a loud thunder striking. He never lets his anger blind him. He was silent, collected, counting every step he takes. Silence was sometimes too loud. Sometimes, he wished he could vanish, dissaper in a beat and never come back. When his time comes, he wishes to be buried in your smile, where he can find eternal peace.
Phillip Graves
Vulnerable.
He never knew how to be, he thought being a commander means he should be collected, stoic. He buried his feelings, fears and doubts inside. Letting them accumulate till it overflew, leaving him in disaster. He shattered after a failed mission. And, for the first time, he let you pick up the pieces, putting him together like a broken vase. You looked upon his baby blues, letting peace wash over him.
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empresskylo · 5 months
Note
can you make a fix of cod guys reaction to you getting into an argument with them, which causes us to flinch and cover our face from any impact because we had an abusive ex.
featuring Ghost, Price, Soap, Gaz, Konig, & Alejandro
⊹ cod men x gn!reader
[ warnings ] domestic violence implications
cod masterlist
Ghost
He’d run his hand through his hair if he didn’t have this bloody mask on. Ghost looked down at you, his eyes narrowing in and scrutinizing your every minute detail. You tried to glare back, but you were feeling rather small with the weight of his disappointed glower. 
“You’ve got t’be more careful,” his voice boomed, though he was trying to keep it at a normal level. 
“I know, I’m sorry—”
“Sorry isn’t gonna cut it when you get someone killed,” he growled, taking a step in, closing the space between the two of you. 
You stepped back on instinct and bumped into the wall—trapped. You suddenly felt trapped. You knew that logically he wouldn’t hurt you, but something about his pissed-off demeanor and towering frame triggered something in you. Your breathing increased exponentially and Ghost watched helplessly as your chest rose and fell in rapid beats.
A bit taken aback by your response, Ghost raised a hand to grab your shoulder and you turned your head and shied away. You let out a small gasp as if waiting for him to land a blow on you. 
You squeezed your eyes shut, the entire moment passing by excruciatingly slow. That’s when you knew you fucked up. Ghost dropped his hand and his fist clenched, putting everything together all at once. Something inside him broke seeing you look at him like that—with fear in your eyes. It fucking hurt.
“M’not gonna hurt you,” he said in a much softer tone than earlier. He’d never lay a hand on you, even out of love, if you didn’t want it.
You blinked rapidly, forcing yourself to look up at him, your face inflamed. “I-I know. I didn’t… I don’t know why…” The words got lost in your throat. You were so embarrassed. 
“Who?” He asked sharply.
You tilted your head, your hands squeezing at your sides. Ghost took a step back to give you room, though he wanted nothing more than to step into you closer, to pull you against him. He didn’t care how annoyed he was with you, all that drifted away, unimportant nonsense he’d come back to later.
“ Who… ?” You repeated.
“Who. Hurt. You?” He bent over slightly, aligning his face with yours as he talked, making sure you couldn’t turn your face away from him. 
“J-Just an ex-boyfriend. It’s not a big deal. I don’t know why I responded like that. I-I know you wouldn’t hurt me.”
Ghost sighed, his eyes dancing between yours. “No. I wouldn’t.” His voice was dark and deep again. “But I have nothin’ against hurtin’ that bastard.”
“Ghost, please.”
He straightened and rolled his shoulders, trying to suppress the bubbling anger. He looked down at you at last. “Can I touch you?” He asked softly.
You nodded, tears falling down your cheeks now. He tentatively took a step towards you and pulled you into his arms. He wrapped them securely around you and you nuzzled your face into his jacket. If he wasn’t so shocked over the way you responded to him, he’d be yelling at you to tell you who it was that hurt you so he could hunt them down. 
Instead, he clutched you close to him, trying not to think about the fear that crossed your eyes, even if it was momentarily. Even if it wasn’t because of him. He never wanted you to look at him like that again. Something rotten tugged at his heart as he felt you try to stifle your cries. Oh, he was definitely going to kill that bastard. And he was going to make it slow and painful.  
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Price
You chased after Price as he made his way down the hall. “I swear I didn’t mean to—!”
He cut you off, spinning on his heels, making you bump into his chest and slam to a halt. “It doesn’t matter what you meant !” He yelled, losing his composure briefly. 
You flinched at his loud words, stepping away from him. It was a quick movement, a subtle tick of your face, your eyes squinted as you pulled your head away. You acted like this was something you were all too familiar with. 
Immediately Price’s anger shifted away from you and onto whatever bastard trained you to cower. 
His widened eyes traced your face and you slowly read his expression as he came to the realization of why you would flinch away from him when he shouted. You watched as several emotions crossed Price’s countenance. 
His voice was hushed as he edged closer to you, the deep baritone sending a shiver up your spine. “Y’don’t have t’tell me now,” his voice was so low as he spoke. “But you will tell me who, eventually.”
“John, I–”
He was always so gentle with you. But right now, the intense hatred for whoever this bastard was that harmed you, took over. He shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Don’t wanna hear it, doll. You will tell me who did this to you if it’s the last thing I get out of you.”
A wave of heat crossed your cheeks, his eyes boring into yours. You nodded meekly and his face softened. “Com’ere,” he cooed, opening his arms. You stepped into them and were immediately surrounded in the warm comfort Price brought you, one hand rubbing circles on your back and the other sliding up into your hair, tucking your head under his chin. 
“S’your not mad at me, anymore?” Your words muffled by his body. 
You felt his chest rumble as he spoke. “Could never stay mad at you.”
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Soap
“Blood hell,” Soap whined, annoyed with you for hiding the arm wound you got the other day. 
“It’s not as serious as it looks,” you tried to convince him, your lips quirking into a weak smile. 
He closed his eyes to collect his last remaining patience. “Not serious—” he repeated, his words rising in several octaves as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You’ve got twenty stitches in your arm! How the fuck is that not serious?!” 
He reached for your arm and you pulled it away, shuddering briefly from the brief touch of his fingertips. The two of you froze, his eyes darting to meet yours the second he saw the shift in your composure. 
“Gonna tell me why y’just did that?” He sat still in his seat, trying to steady his voice. 
“Did what?” You asked, attempting to play dumb, but the tears were already misting in your eyes. 
Soap sighed, his face dropping as he studied you. “Fuckin’ hell,” he said with displeasure. “You shoulda told me. I wouldn’t have—I woulda been more—” He lost his words, watching as a few stray tears fell down your cheeks. 
“Hey, hey, hey,” he said softly. His thumb came up to wipe the tears away, his hand then cupping the side of your cheek. “S’okay. M’not mad.” You leaned into his hand.. “Jus’ wish ya woulda told me.” You nodded and he gave you a weak smile. 
“Com’on, let’s get that bandage changed.” His voice was gentle as he coaxed you up, wrapping an arm protectively around you as he led you down to the infirmary. You would discuss this later. Right now, all he wanted was to make sure you felt safe in his arms.
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Gaz
Gaz wouldn’t say he had anger issues… he just got passionate about the people he cared about, and sometimes that would come out in spurts of angry shouts. What he didn’t expect, was the way you reacted the first time he ever lost his cool in front of you. 
“I cannot fuckin’ believe Shepherd,” he growled. 
“Maybe we should just focus on the positive,” you said meekly, trying to help calm Gaz down.  
“Yeah? And what fuckin’ positive is that?!” He shouted as he paced back and forth. He regretted it the moment it left his lips. 
You squeezed your eyes shut at his words and brought your hands up for the briefest of seconds to cover your face. 
Gaz whispered your name and you instantly tried to compose yourself. You straightened and gave an awkward smile.
“That wasn’t at you,” he corrected, his eyes deflating as he watched you. “I-I’m sorry. I’d never hurt you,” he said wistfully, running his hand over his hair and cursing. He looked at you completely differently than he had just moments earlier. His entire demeanor shifted. He was suddenly staring at you with such intensity it made something well in your eyes. 
“No, Gaz. It’s not you.” That was the last sentence you could get out before the tears escaped. You quickly wiped them away and Gaz stepped towards you, resting both hands on either one of your shoulders. 
“Hey,” he said calmly. 
You gave him a sideways smile. “It’s just…” you tried to get the words out but they slipped away.
“S’alright. You don’t have to tell me.” His hands slid down your arms, giving you a squeeze before releasing you. “You know I’d never hurt you, right?”
You gave a small laugh. “I know that, Gaz.”
“Good.” He pulled you into his chest without asking, all his anger from earlier transforming into gentleness. “You can tell me when you’re ready,” he said into your hair. 
You nodded. “Thank you.” He held you a bit tighter and you closed your eyes in peace. You never wanted him to let go. 
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König
He was frustrated with the way you were angry at him for insisting he do this mission alone. “You’re gonna get yourself killed!” You argued.
He had enough. He didn’t lose his temper often, but there was no way Konig was allowing you to come on a mission quite this dangerous. He pushed up from his chair, the table in front of him shaking as he did. 
He was a big guy, and you knew that, but the way he quickly took up the space of the room amazed you. “Verfickte Hurerei!” Fucking hell! he shouted. “Why are you pressing this so hard?!” He gestured towards you, his fists clenched and you winced. You cowered away, surprising even yourself with your actions. 
Konig watched you through his rapid blinking, dumbfounded by what just happened. It took him a second to process.
“Liebling?” He asked his voice back to its usual tone. “I wasn’t going to— fuck . I’m sorry.” A pang of guilt coursed through him. You thought he was going to hit you? Jesus Christ. He wanted to reach out to you but he refrained, knowing that might make things worse. 
“Konig,” you whispered and his eyes snapped to yours. He tilted his head, studying you as you regained your composure. “S’not you.” Your words were so faint it hurt his heart a little. 
He watched as you wiped away a stray tear. Your body had shifted back to how things used to be. Before Konig. 
Your lip quivered and you felt so small and embarrassed. Konig mouthed your name breathlessly and you blinked away tears before closing the distance between the two of you. You practically fell into his arms and he tightened them on you instinctively. 
“You okay, liebling?” He cooed, his hand stroking your hair. 
You nodded. “M’sorry.”
He pulled back so you had to tilt your chin and look up at him. “Don’t apologize.” His hand came up and stroked your cheek. 
“It’s not you,” you tried to reassure again, worried Konig was going to eat himself alive thinking you were afraid of him. 
“I know.” Your lips pinched together and Konig pulled you back into him. “You’re safe. You’ll always be safe with me.”
You felt tears fall; not out of terrible memories, but out of the love you felt radiating off of Konig. 
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Alejandro
“Jesus, would you just listen to me?” You shouted. 
“Listen to you?! You haven’t heard a fucking thing I’ve been saying!” He yelled back. His accent was always heavier on his words when he was mad. 
He took a big step towards you, his knife still in his hand, covered in blood. You flinched when he approached so suddenly. His dark words and his fast movements made you duck in fear. 
Alejandro paused all his movements, startled by your reaction. “Jesus,” he mumbled, sheathing his knife and holding his hands up. “I wouldn’t hurt you, mi amor.” He shook his head in frustration with himself. His jaw clenched as he watched you look back up at him. How awful he felt seeing your beautiful features shrouded in fear. 
“I…” you swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. The yelling… I don’t know. It just made me think back to…”
Something inside Alejandro shifted at your faint words. “Mataré a ese bastardo,” I’ll kill that bastard , he growled. “Who was it? Who fuckin’ touched you?” 
You shook your head. “Alejandro, please. It was so long ago.”
He clenched his fist, his other hand coming up to the scruff on his jaw. He closed his eyes to try and contain himself. When he opened them, you could still see the darkness lingering behind them. “I don’t care how long ago it was, mi amor. I need you to tell me who it was.”
You frowned and he closed his eyes again before walking up to you and pulling you into his arms. “God. I swear I’ll fuckin’ kill him.”
You let out the softest of giggles at how dramatic he could be. But still, you felt so safe knowing he would go to the ends of the world to protect you. You felt him kiss the top of your head, mumbling something about being sorry for yelling. 
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Text
-Ghost/top!M reader: “I’m right here, baby”
Reader was put into a nasty coma and ghost hasn’t been the same. Still desperately trying to make you happy even through this long slumber.
A/N: im not one to write sad or dark things and this one really is not to heavy but still beware just in case. I hope y’all enjoy!
edit: this fic includes suicidal elements so please read with caution
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“To grieve deeply is to have loved fully.”
But you weren’t even gone your lungs still filled with air, eyes watching through closed lids, and ears perking when you heard his choked sobs.
“Babe, Baby, (y/n).”  The sound of his voice drowned out by the hammering of gun fire and ringing in the air.  Sulfur and smoldering flesh danced along the ground, covering the both of you in its dark loving embrace.  
You couldn’t move only watch through blurred eyes the frantic ones staring right back at you.  Simon had cold eyes, deadly sharp shark eyes.  Eyes that loved you and softened so sweetly when you were in his focus.  “I’m right here, baby,” Simon murmured the rain of his tears dotting your face as you were carried up to the light.  Safe and secured in these trembling arms of your Angel.
“He’s been like that since we got here…” Price whispered to Gaz as the rest of the team watched their crumbling comrade.  The surgery was over but the doors remained shut and the curtain drawn shut, The Ghost never prayed to God for his mercy but today he did.  Not as a monster of the 141 but as Simon Riley, still stained in his blood dried gear curled up on the floor just outside your door.  His trembling hand pressed against the wall almost trying to push through the concrete to reach you.
The next morning nothing had changed, you  wouldn't open your eyes and Simon tried to keep hope.  And as days turned to weeks he continued to stay, living off the cold hospital food and you, your liquids.  
Your muscles started to fade and your face sunk in a little bit almost like how you looked before meeting the 141.  A scrawny guy would never had the pleasure of eating  los vaqueros cooking, raiding Alex’s snack stash, or wolfing down a plate of ribs with ghost for a free meal.
“You look beautiful” he whispered pressing a kiss to your forehead brining the blanket up a bit higher.  A heavy thing Farah had made and sent over to make sure you didn’t “freeze to death”.
Weeks passed and the ghost was starting to grow weary of this room you were trapped in.  Books stacked high and puzzles glued and hung up for decoration of the room.  Plants grew with flowers blooming just for you, a heating lamp to mimic the sun on your greying skin. 
His lips pressing soft kisses to your own  and everywhere you always liked him to.  
Sometimes pacing, screaming at you when he halted his steps or begging you to just wake up when the days got particularly hard. The rage whispering, and sweltering river of tears of his begging apologies.  Curled up to you wrapping your arms around him as if you’re still truly awake to soothe him.
Seven months, long and and quiet without your laughter to bring his own.  Simon had grown smaller lost weight and shoulders no longer strong enough to carry the world.  You had grown thinner almost sinking into the bed and lost in the sheets until the nurses would roll you over, keeping the bed sores away so the long stillness wasn’t to obvious.
Even then the sores still bloomed and Simon ran another bursting dam of tears into the already overflowing river.
A year passed and when the January dreariness started he brought you crisp mangos that Rudy had grown.  Doting the slices with sweet chili lime and holding the mixture to your nose, letting the juices run down to your cracked dry lips.  
“It’s spi-“
It was a deafening sound like a bursting bubble or shattering glass.  Your weary eyes a shocked glaze as they stared at the widened ones of your lover.  The smell of gun powder filled your nose with familiar smell of iron.  The warm trickle and crimson droplets ran down your pretty face, mouth open and agape in a permanent disbelief.
Simons trembling hands steadying as he crawled into bed next to you, the barrel soft under his chin and burning with the heat of it previous discharge. The fire of it leaving a crisp edge at the new hole in his face, a perfect pair with yours…
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A/N: i don’t even know why I wrote this tbh- imma go write that Price one to make myself feel better
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mirrorofliterature · 25 days
Text
alejandro knows his parents do not love him.
still, he thought -
he hoped -
that they would still pick him up after total drama. even if he is a failure, he is still their son, still their responsibility -
don't even talk to us. you are a disgrace.
well. alejandro is almost an adult, but almost is not enough.
his parents have abandoned him, he lost the money, he trashed his reputation on international TV for nothing, he... he...
he kissed noah last night.
that was nice. but he cannot crash at his maybe-boyfriend's place indefinitely when things are still so new, still so fragile.
so he is back to where he started. waiting for someone who will never come.
he hasn't told anyone else that. why would he? why would he admit that his parents have finally cut him loose, finally made it explicit how much they do not care, finally crushed his foolish hope that one day, they will love him -
to anyone, let alone a bunch of people who hate him?
to noah, to prove that he is ultimately unlovable to the one person who might actually stay, who saw through him but still saw someone worth pursuing?
it was a pipe dream, thinking that winning a reality show could trick his parents into loving him. but total drama had accepted him over jose.
for once, for once, he had been better than jose.
none of that matters, now.
families - not his family, never his family - turn up for his fellow contestants in droves.
some are awkward -
heather scowling at her parents' faux cheer -
cody being ignored by arguing parents -
some are not.
he sees noah whisked away by a loving mother and sisters. he doesn't go over.
a part of alejandro wants to, but they only kissed last night. it is too soon, too much.
still, his heart aches.
the day wears thin, the sun setting over the horizon.
alejandro has some money. he will figure something out.
he will.
now, if only he can get the water out of his eyes.
but then -
then -
someone does come for him.
someone he has not seen in years.
carlos.
carlos smiles at him. his hair long, his shirt untucked.
alejandro rushes forward and hugs him, closing his eyes.
thank god.
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