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leonstoenailunderhisbed · 20 days

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Leon’s the type of guy…

Leon’s the type of guy to have hair ties in case you need one

“Ugh, my hair’s in the way,” you’d say. Leon would then pull a hair tie from his wrist and give it to you, “Here.”

Leon’s the type of guy that would carry your bags for you when you two go out shopping

“Y/n, is all of this necessary? I mean, you already have a lot of clothes,” he says as his knuckles turn white from holding your bags. You pulled him to another store, “You don’t understand the drip.”

Leon’s the type of guy who would wake up scared from the lightning of a thunderstorm because it reminded him of his battles and fights.

Leon woke up sweaty and panting after a loud lightning strike echoed through the room. He face dripped with sweat and you stirred awake, “Leon?” You whispered with a sleepy tone. Leon would then turn to you and shush you back to sleep, “It’s nothing, baby, go back to sleep,” he’d whisper but you were already waking up anyway. Your hand reached over to Leon’s back and you gently massaged his tense muscles. There was a moment of silence before he eventually spoke up in a scared tone, “I thought I was back out there,” he whispered. He looked at you with tired eyes and spoke with a trembling tone, “I can’t keep living like this,” your eyes grew sad at his words and you quickly embraced him in a tight, comforting hug.

Leon’s the type guy who’d buy you something because it reminded him of you.

“Hey, I got you this. It reminded me of you,” he says as he handed you a strawberry squishmellow. You raised a brow and took it, “I remind you of a strawberry?” He grinned and nodded, “Because you get red after we kiss.”

Leon’s the type of guy who would say no to going out but when you drag him somewhere, he feels so giddy inside

“No. I don’t want to go,” he says with a frown. “Oh come on, please?” You fluttered your eyelashes at him. Leon sighs begrudgingly and lets you take him somewhere. But when you basically kept dragging him around the festival market, he has to bite down his smile tugging at his lips. He wouldn’t admit it, but Leon likes how assertive you are when it comes to going out.

Leon’s the type of guy who would not trust you with the stove after you burnt yourself boiling water

“How the fuck did you even managed to hurt yourself?” He asks as he rubs burning cream on your palm. You shrugged and spoke nonchalantly, “I dunno.” Leon looked at you mildly surprised and also worried, “How are you still alive?”

Leon’s the type of guy that definitely sleeps on his stomach. The man practically takes up the whole space too. He’d have his hands under his pillow as his legs basically occupied your side of the bed. He would also accidentally kick you.

You were so close to falling off the edge of the bed because of Leon’s sleeping position. You grumbled bitterly as you basically pushed him closer to his side but he didn’t budge. That man was heavy, especially since he’s so deep into his sleep that his body basically mushed down.

Leon’s the type of guy that definitely felt like he was better than the military guys back in Fort Hood or Fort whatever. He wouldn’t participate physically but emotionally he would think that the base he trained in was better than the other places.

As Leon stood straight along the other men during their training session. He felt a surge of pride in himself when he overheard some guys talking about another base basically being known as the pussies of the military world. The end of his lips would curve up very slightly. But soon everything died down as the sergeant began to yell for formation.

Leon’s the type of guy that unironically would participate in a Uno or Bingo game. He’s strategic, he’d definitely win a few Uno rounds- even against you.

“Uno out,” he called out as he placed the last card. Your eyes widened and you scoffed in disbelief, “What!? That’s so not fair!” Leon chuckled and leaned back against his chair with a smug smirk, “Can’t outdo me, sweetheart. This brain’s too smart,” he tapped his finger against his skull. Leon, being the asshole that he could be sometimes, stacked two +4 on you and won. You gave him the side-eye and put the cards together for another round.

#leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon scott kennedy #resident evil #id leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #di leon #re2 leon #leon #leon kennedy headcanons #re4 leon #re4r leon #re2r leon #death island leon

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dante-mightdie · 5 months

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omg imagine the 141 smokings cigs and cigars after a stressful mission. maybe drinking a glass or two of their choice liquor. and reader just pulls up with the most obnoxious vape ever.

i love the idea of these buff manly military guys grr👹 smoking and just with full confidence pulling up with a rainbow gummy bear surprise cloud of vapor (mb if this is like shitty english not my first language)

reading this ask as i'm laying in bed hitting my vape is hilarious to me

the way the whole group would go dead silent when you pull it out, the sound of the vape crackling as you take a pull is the only sound in the room

simon nearly throws the thing across the room everytime a cloud of strawberry lemonade flavored vapor hits his nostrils, the smoke clouding his vision

"'m gonna shove that vape up your fuckin' arse in a minute, sergeant." he growls, flicking his cigarette onto the floor and stomping off

price is such a pretentious prick about smoking. scoffs if you offer him a cigarette that's not a B&H blue

but when he sees the vape, he honestly considers writing you up. absolutely does not respect vapes nor does he respect anyone that smokes them

"you lot and these fuckin' vapes. can't handle being an actual smoker?"

soap and gaz don't actually care all that much. they'd probably actually hit it if no one else was around. however, they do think they look silly

gaz has absolutely recorded you ripping apart the bed you just made to military standard when you can't find the little flavored nicotine stick

soap will ask for it if he gets drunk enough and there's no cigarettes available

"gimme tha' little fuckin- that bloody thing ye smoke. smells like cherries... fuckin' legend." he grins once he finally has something to satisfy the cravings, even if it is a fruity little vape

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sky-is-the-limit · 7 months

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"It's what friends do."

P:F!Reader x Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick

CW: Afab Reader,Infedelity,

NSFW,Oral(recieving)

Song Rec: Friends by Chase Atlantic

WC: 2,560 words

Notes: @chai-isms had this lovely idea and I just had to extend it.. :)

Disclaimer: I'm not a writer!

____________________________________

"Okay, okay, I get it. You missed me." He murmures softly, a wide grin spreading across his face. You can hear his heartbeat as you hug, a soothing rhythm that calmes your nerves, one hand cupping the back of your head gently. His leather jacket is cold against your skin, contrasting the warmth of his breath against your temple. You barely had time to brush your hair and hastily put on your pj's before answering the door, excitement washing over you knowing who's behind it.

"Damn right I did, you idiot." I still do, you wanted to admit. You always do. Saudade is difficult to deal with, it deepens when there’s nothing you can do to bring a person back to you and especially when death can easily fall into the equation. It always takes a few days for you to calm your restless heart down, sooth it that he's safe back home, where Sergeant Garrick is put to rest and Kyle gets to breathe again, alive once more.

You'd think that repetition makes it easier with time until you remember that your hug is a foreshadowing of the goodbye that would later tear you apart. It always does and there's nothing to fill the immeasurable emptiness until you can see kind amber eyes staring back into yours.

"Hey, I'm right here, all in one piece. I'm here." Now his lively cheekiness turns into reassuring whispers, as though he can sense your worried thoughts. You can feel his grip tighten, hearts thumping in unison to the sound of gentle rain landing on the ground outside.

You and Kyle are like magnets. Always finding your way back to each other no matter what. It's rare to find a friendship like yours, even more complex to describe it. You met five years ago when your dearest cousin started dating one of his closest friends, mutual gatherings bringing you closer together until you became inseparable. It wasn't abnormal for people to assume that there was something more between the two of you.

You won't lie to yourself that thoughts as such never creeped in. Thinking of all the late nights you'd spent covertly admiring his profile, he had the kind of face that stopped you in your tracks. A smile bright enough to illuminate the darkest corners of the room along with unusually sharp canines in contrast with his soft features.

He is striking, as if angels had carved his looks and you'd be a horrendous liar if you dared to say otherwise.

''I missed you too, you know. In case that wasn't clear.'' He finally untangles his arms from your body, hesitantly at first, then stands a foot apart, unwilling to completely let go. A sense of completeness washed over you, as if the hug had filled a void only he could create and make disappear. Kyle's eyes twinkle, accompanying the familiar playful tone in his voice before his gaze flicker past you, giving his attention elsewhere.

''Is he coming tonight?'' Oh. Him. You don't even have to match his gaze's direction to know he's staring at one of the photos on the wall. With Kyle's return, you forgot that the rest of the world existed, even your own boyfriend. The bitterness in his voice crystal clear matching the subtle frown on his lips.

They never liked each other, really. Always competing for the number one spot in your heart as if that question wasn't already answered with the way you look at solely one of them.

It hasn't been long since you've started dating Eric, a timid, gentle soul with strawberry blonde hair and emerald green eyes. He is handsome, no doubt. Always treating you with kindness and respect, giving you his undivided attention and time like every proper boyfriend should. Yet every time you look at him, you get reminded of the awful motive hiding behind the start of your relationship. He is Kyle's polar opposite.

It's fucked up, you know it. The moment cold realization washed over you like a thousand crushing waves that you might feel more for Kyle, you immediately said yes to the first person who showed interest in you. Someone who reminded you nothing of the man who offered you sleepless nights, wondering if he's still breathing under the same sky. A deluded solution to a problem that cannot be resolved.

"Uh, no. He's stuck at work, so he'll probably stay at his place tonight." The growing smirk that was plastered all over his face the second you mumbled those words was transparently clear, no ounce of shame behind filthy thoughts forming in his mind.

"Good, I deserve some time alone with you." He leers at you, eyebrow arching.

"Kyle-" You try to look away, eyes darting around the kitchen but inevitably drawn back to his.

"Obviously, you needed someone to fill the time now that I was gone." His forwardness doesn't surprise you one bit. Though you attempt to keep a cool demeanour, your body is practically vibrating with anticipation. You keep your eyes locked in his, arms over your chest as though to keep your trembling heart from jumping out.

"What makes you think he's not enough?" Your playful provocation works wonders. He looks at you with his mismatched gaze, daring. A fainted gasp escapes your lips, eyes widening as he suddenly closes the distance between you with a purposeful stride.

"You want proof now, Y/N?" Kyle murmurs, thumbs tracing your abdomen over your soft cotton shirt, teasing at the waistband of your shorts. He took a step closer, leading you to press your lower back against the kitchen table whilst holding your gaze, completely still, clearly just torturing you at this point. Suddenly, you feel Kyle's cool fingers smooth over your bare thigh, and you instinctively jerk your leg away. You don't mean to, your skin is warm, and his hands are frigid.

"How about the countless nights of you calling me after he leaves so I can finish what he couldn't?" His fingers gently touch the side of your neck, caressing it softly as the words melt into your system, bringing back the agreement you so desperately missed while he was away. You had initially brushed it off as sexual frustration mixed with alcohol and your disoriented brain when it first happened. Oh, how naive you were.

A New year's eve party, a drunken kiss and a soft whispered 'I want you' brought both of you back to your cold apartment, flaming skins and shameless moans disturbing the deafening silence of the night. It started happening more frequently, as if your body was subconsciously begging for his touch and he was always aware. Perhaps it was the deep rooted loneliness that led to this, Kyle with his isolated job and you with your self -destructive tendencies.

How utterly wrong you were. You desperately told yourself that once you get a proper boyfriend, you'd put an end to this. Your body had a different reaction to your plans, rejecting your boyfriend's touch as if Kyle engraved his name onto it and it will accept no other.

"Fuck, this is so wrong-" You admit, a little breathless as if the words have no meaning behind them. The guilt vanished the moment you saw him again.

"It's what friends do, right?" Goosebumps slither down your spine as he whispers in your ear, lips gently grazing your lobe and your hips buck slightly, desperately at the lightest touch. To your surprise, his erection is readily felt on your thigh through the thick layer of his jeans, making you quiver instinctively.

"Help one another when one's in need, hm?" A surge of arousal hits your body instantly, feeling the near instant reaction between your thighs arising by the second. You can't help but shudder as he runs his thumb over your clothed nipple, your breasts heaving as you breathe rapidly. You ache for him like a starved animal locked in a cage for far too long.

"And I'm gonna show you, what a good fucking friend I am." Kyle informs you, his lips descending hungrily upon yours. Before you can respond, he scoops you up in one swift sweep, wrapping your legs around his waist. You catch yourself wanting to curse your reflection out for ever complaining that he needs to spend less time at the gym whilst he carries you like nothing, setting you down on the table without ever so much as lessening the strength of his kiss. His tongue dances around yours, stopping only to bite and pull at your lower lip.

It didn't take long for him to start trailing sloppy kisses from your jaw to your pulse, biting the place at the base of your neck where it connected your shoulder, then sucking the skin and licking over the freshly formed bruise. The thought of the mess awaiting for you tomorrow when your mind is clear from his intoxication, briefly creeps in and disappears with the same pace, every muscle in your body clenching to his mercy.

''Fuck, I missed you.'' He breathes, voice thick and gravelly with need and desire, before tucking his head into the base of your neck to take a long, shuddering breath in, his hands scurrying hungrily over your hips, thighs, and stomach, as if he's trying to remember your perfume, your body all over again.

''Show me.'' Please, you want to add but the words are lodged in your throat and get swallowed down the moment he brings his gaze back up to meet yours, lips brushing your own softly. You'd ruin yourself for him, turn your life upside down, all he had to do was say the word.

''You want me to take care of you, love?'' He asks breathlessly, his nose nuzzling against yours gently, sending blood up to redden your cheeks furiously to the sound of the sweet endearment. The words were soft like a blanket, pulling at your heart.

''Yes, please.'' A soft whine escapes your parted lips softly, your hips arcing upwards desperately to try and meet his. Every nerve ending in your body is on fire, screaming for him and him alone.

''You know I will.'' He murmurs, eyes darkening proportionally with each new inch of skin exposed as his fingertips slid underneath your shirt, caressing your sides. ''I always do.'' No doubt ever crossed your mind when it comes to him, yet it's never needless to have him say it, voice oozing with desire.

''Beautiful.'" He whispers, tugging your bra cups down so your breasts were over the fabric of your shirt, making you squeak, blinking owlishly at the sudden development. Gasping at his touch, you grind yourself against him, desperate for contact while he immediately begins sucking, biting, and licking your nipple while grabbing the other breast with his right hand, massaging it firmly.

''I need more- please Kyle!'' Your nails drag down his forearms, creating red lines impatiently and you're a mess. Suddenly the cool temperature of the room turns into unbearable heat, skin on fire contradicting the cold sweat slipping down your spine.

“That bad, hm?” He asks, slyly grinning against your burning skin. Even in these circumstances, he’s a cocky bastard, knowing exactly how lonely it felt without him, even with a warm body sleeping beside you. He quickly moves down so your thighs are on his shoulders, stretching between them, his cheek caressing against familiar softness. Your black laced undergarments slip off your body with ease, and you’re left bare under his hungry gaze.

He turns his attention to your soaked cunt, folds glistening with your overflowing slick. Without hesitation, he presses his lips against your slit, licking painfully slow your arousal and groaning at the taste of you.

Oh, if he only knew how many sleepless nights you spent with your own hand right where his mouth currently savors you, wishing it was him instead.

''Kyle-'' You moan his name like a desperate prayer, voice feeble and croaky to his touch. If your neighbors weren't already aware of his return, they are now. He shoots you a quick, sly smirk from between your legs before turning his focus to the task at hand, zeroing in on your clit, sucking tenderly as your legs clip down automatically around his ears, trembling.

His tongue is painfully, awfully delicate and torturously slow as it circles your sweet spot. In need to feel more pressure, you try to lift your hips into the pleasure as his grasp tightens on your thighs, promising blue shaded marks to appear so to hold you into place.

''I'll make up for the time I spent away from you.'' He drawles between tongue flicks, amber eyes fixed up at your face, not wanting to miss a second. Both of your hands were now gripping the table edge as you arch your back to the sensation, your core throbbing with pleasure.

''Your fingers-'' Before you could even finish your request, his plump lips rested against your clit, sucking it with need as he inserts two fingers inside of you with ease, curling them upwards to hit your spot instantly. His fingers fuck into you slowly, agonizing, matching the pace of his tongue flickering every inch of you. You jolt as if you’d been electrocuted, tense and shirking as you grip the wooden edges so tight, your fingernails might leave marks underneath.

''All yours, baby.'' His voice sounds so broken and wrecked, he craves this as much as you, if not more. Your fingers tug at his hair, desperate for something to keep yourself grounded. The sound that escapes his lips is so feral, almost like a growl. His pace is brutal, and your eyes blur with stars as he hits the deepest parts inside of you with his long fingers over and over.

You can feel the orgasm building inside of you with each thrust of his fingers, threatening to leave you shaking and breathless in a way no man could ever quite manage.

Kyle humms softly, and your toes curl as the sound washes over you like a heated wave.

"You taste so good, fuck-" He whispers breathlessly before licking you again, slower and more deliberately than before. The action draws a sharp cry from your lips which is quickly stifled as you bite down on them, squirming under the flickers of sensation. It never fails to surprise you how easily he can read your body language, as though you're connected and so he quickens his pace, working in broad strokes, sliding against the sides of your labia.

You can no longer control the moans and whimpers that leave you as he laps at your cunt, white dots your vision as the orgasm hits you hard, your whole body shaking with the sudden release of tension. When Kyle finally tugs his fingers out, your walls clench around them, almost like your body was trying to keep them inside for as long as possible. It was heady, intoxicating and you couldn't get enough.

Speechless, your hand reaches down to his face, tracing the outline of it with your fingertips.

''Don't mention it.'' Kyle chuckles at your loss of words, raising himself up so he can press a soft kiss on your cheek, before bringing his hand to his lips, allowing himself to taste your arousal soaking his fingertips.

''It's what friends do.''

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lady-ashfade · 2 months

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New Coffee Run

Poly!Chenford x Assistant!Chubby!Fem!reader. Dabble. (slight bimbo)

╰･ﾟ✧☽ I binged like the first three-four seasons. And I am in love with both of them. (I haven’t made it to their relationship yet)

╰･ﾟ✧☽ words: 470

╰･ﾟ✧☽ I know the poll side secretary but assistant is better.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: poly relationships crushes, chubby reader description, flirting, short fic, having them obsessive over you, I’m such a sucker for them.

everyone knew to stay clear of you while you were on duty, but you were too bubbly to keep away from, especially in the dark workplace. but, Sergeant Gray made it clear to stay away from you until you had free time, which was hardly ever.

it wasn’t their fault that they couldn’t keep their eyes off of you; when you wore dresses that hugged you chubby belly and hips like that. while you talked to some other officers, or did tasks like running papers back and forth, walking around the place with a big smile on your face. every second you are in eye shot they are staring at you, taking you in.

it was brought up by Lucy sense she noticed his gaze, and is open to talk about things more then him. she knew he would never bring it up incase he hurt her feelings. the conversation ending up them just gushing about you and how precious you are. and how they wanted you to themselves.

being the sweetheart you are deciding to stroll over to them while they sat at a desk chatting on break in the office.

“hi guys,” you chirp and wave as if they aren’t in front of you, “I’m heading out to get some coffee, wanted to know if you guys wanted anything?” you smiled as bright as you could as your plush cheeks moved upwards. tom licked his lips while lucy was caught stuttering trying to find something to say, he straightened up and puffed out his chest.

“why us?” his question didn’t even make you crack a bit. he was trying to get something out of you, to see any sigh of you wanted them back.

“my way of saying thank you for helping me with those boxes the other day. is there anything I can get you? Coffee, muffins, or tea?” we’d like you to go out with us. is what they wanted to say.

they told you their coffee order and you bounced away happier then before to repay their kindness. they watched you leave with their eyes glued to your frame. a wave of relief washed over them when you were out of sight, taking their breath away, they couldn’t help but be nervous about you. one wrong move and they could scare you away.

“clearly she knows what she’s doing.” tim groaned softly to his girlfriend, who shook her head. “she just is that why, last week she brought smitty strawberry donuts because he tweeted about it.” that memory made tim’s nose scrunch and roll his eyes.

“we wait one week more like you wanted, but after that she’s getting a tim test.” he leaned back and crossed his arms.

“She’s can’t handle a tim test.” Lucy argued playfully.

“What about a Lucy and Tim test?”

☪︎ kinda making some yander content about them, have for a while but idk if people with enjoy.☪︎

#tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford x reader #the rookie x fem!reader #the rookie x reader #tim bradford x you #tim bradford x chubby!reader #Lucy Chen x reader #Lucy Chen x fem!reader #Lucy Chen x chubby!reader #chenford x reader #chenford x fem!reader

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themotherofhorses · 9 months

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pairing: bodyguard!aemond targaryen x president's daughter!reader

warnings: explicit language. secret relationship. some sweet fluff. a highkey dark & obsessive aemond (as usual, that’s basically my brand). babytrapping. mentions of tiddy sucking but that’s rlly it.

notes: hi my little loves, long time no write. several months back, @welight-theway asked for a continuation of the bodyguard!aemond fic, so here it is! hope you enjoy it !! 🫶🏼

also im literally walking out the door as i post this, to walk the graduation stage and get my bachelor's hehe. 2nd gen college student over here 🥰

masterlist

As funny as it might sound, it was your breasts that tipped him off to the little one in your belly.

Sergeant Aemond One-Eye Targaryen is unashamedly a boob man — one so incredibly obsessed with your boobs, as much so as he is with the rest of your body, heart, and soul combined. He actually remembers this particular shirt (a low-cut halter top in his favorite color) you wore to a close friend’s birthday dinner; it looked absolutely stunning on you, showing off the perfect teasingly amount of cleavage that left his mouth watering and pants painfully tight. He helped you sneak out of the house with it, knowing that your father would’ve busted the vein in his forehead if he saw. It was three weeks into his new job as your personal bodyguard and four long years into his infatuation with you.

But that was around four months, and now he has you, and knows you — both inside and out.

So when your pretty face scrunches up in obvious discomfort when he sucks on your right boob and gnaws at your nipple, he is left raising an eyebrow. He has your boobs in his mouth all the time… the short hiss that soon follows between gritted teeth is a bit concerning as well. What is wrong, baby? he coos. It feels sore, you whine, hiding your face in his neck. Hurts too, daddy. Don’t like it. And you’re right, he realizes. Both your breasts and nipples appear more swollen than usual, puffy and tender, and maybe even … a bit plumper too?

Aemond thinks he has a faint grasp of what might be going on with his sweet girl.

He spends the following week eyeing your every movement around him, studying the way you walk and talk, eat and sleep, and how often you might visit the restroom. Frequent urination, odd food cravings, some complaints of minor backache here and there, and midday fatigue … when he googles ‘signs you might be pregnant’ later that evening, his suspicions are correct.

You are pregnant…with his baby. Oh. OH! Aemond is simply over the moon. He wants to cry and shout and pound his chest in happiness, manners and etiquette be damned. And he didn’t think it was actually possible, but he feels himself falling deeper in love with you, his mind constantly muddled with the sight of you fucked so full of him.

This … this is what you were made for, he knows — carrying all his babies, giving him the family he deserves.

“You’ve made me a daddy,” he mumbles against your stomach, careful not to stir you. You’re cuddled around a silk body pillow, exhausted from the four orgasms he gave you, fisting the sheets in a tight grip. “Good girl.” He then presses a tiny, feathery kiss above your belly button, gently dragging his lips across your soft skin, before closing his eyes. Aemond remembers a dreamlike fantasy he had around two years ago, back when he was stationed overseas at Ali Al Salem in Kuwait. He had been napping in an army tent, your picture clutched between his thumb and index finger.

(His favorite picture. Your father had posted it on Instagram as a birthday post; you were sitting at the dinner table with a strawberry shortcake cupcake centered in front of you, the 18-shaped candle poking out of the thick frosting.)

In his dream, you were his pretty little housewife, fingers laced together as you anxiously awaited your husband’s return. Once his laced-up combat boots stepped inside the American airport, you flung yourself into his arms, pleading with him never to leave you again. And he promised. Gods, did he promise. You were everything and more, how could he possibly neglect you again? He woke up only five minutes later, just when you were shyly spreading your legs open, and he was catching a glimpse of your wet cunt; he could’ve cursed the world and murdered someone at that moment.

Aemond almost wishes he could tell that younger sergeant that it’ll all be worth it. All that fucking fixation and hard work would play out in the end, and his ship would arrive at the right dock, and she’d be there to greet him.

Two months in, he notices all the small changes in your body. You’re none the wiser, of course, but your breasts are fuller, and your pretty face is carrying a new glow that shines along your cheekbones and smile. And the baby bump isn’t quite obvious yet, although that doesn’t stop his attention from constantly straying down to your tummy, in hopes of seeing something — anything — poke out. How could he not admire his beautiful and pregnant woman?

I know you’re in there, he sometimes thinks to himself, mostly in amusement. You might have fooled your mother, but not your daddy.

Three and a half weeks later, he kisses the tip of your nose and lips before whispering the news in your ear. Your head tilts in equal shock and confusion while your eyes widen and eyebrows furrow. “I’m…pregnant?” you breathe out. You then squint down, watching as your palm flattens across your lower belly. “Are… are you sure?”

He nods. “The signs are all there, baby.”

“What signs?”

“Remember when you were complaining about your breasts earlier?” You nod. He continues, “-sore and sensitive breasts are usually a sign of pregnancy. Haven’t you noticed that they’re a bit… fuller as well? Cup ‘em, baby, feel them.”

You do as he says, cupping your breasts. Around your nipples is a little tenderness that does hurt a bit, and they do fill out in your hands, but you didn’t think much of it before. You chalked it up to PMSing but now… now you’re left speechless, unable to process anything else but the fact you might actually be pregnant. Chuckling, Aemond rests his hands on your shoulders before pressing his forehead against yours. In his lone eye — both happiness and pride.

“I’m so sure of this… but if you’d like, just to be on the safe side, we can always have you take a pregnancy test.”

“Yeah!” you perk up. “Yeah…yeah, um, I think that is a good idea. Just to be positive, y’know.”

Aemond runs a quick trip to the local CVS, and forty-five minutes later, the pregnancy test displays two pink lines, side by side.

You’re pregnant with Aemond’s baby.

He’s completely overjoyed. You’re just trying to mentally plan out how to break the news to your father.

So it is quite hard to hide a swelling belly; this you learn throughout the next few months. You got lucky during the first trimester, having barely shown with some minor symptoms. But now halfway into your second trimester, there are only so many oversized sweaters and graphic t-shirts you can wear until it arouses suspicion.

But Aemond, he is simply so gentle and loving towards you, providing constant naked cuddles and belly strokes. He feels more like a husband than a lover, or even a retired decorated sergeant hired as your bodyguard.

You’re a bit worried about public reaction, and your father’s response to your unexpected pregnancy. Your father loves you so much, but at the end of the day, he is still your father, and you are his little girl. “What are the chances he might blacklist you?” you ask Aemond one afternoon, the two of you in the kitchen cooking lunch. “And send me to a nunnery in Switzerland?”

Aemond laughs. “Very unlikely, baby.”

“He’s going to be so upset…”

“It’ll be fine, quit worrying so much.”

“AEMOND!” you snap, bracing against the kitchen counter. Your temple falls into your hands, and you feel that sudden rush of stupid pregnancy hormones overcoming your thoughts. “It won’t be fine! Don’t you understand?! He’s going to hate me! HATE ME! He’s going to be so disappointed with me. I’m still young, in college, and unwedded. Can you imagine all the shit the public will say? All his political rivals, the media, people in school…”

I’m done. In the public’s eye, I’m ruined.

Aemond pauses his mixing of the salad greens, nuts, vegetables, and cheese, setting the bowl to the side. His head drops, and he lets out a loud sigh. “No one is taking you away from me,” he states, in a low and raspy voice. “Especially your damn father.” You blink, taken back a bit. “I don’t give a shit that your dad is the damn president of this fucking nation. You’re mine. That kid in your belly is mine.”

“Aemond…”

“I’ll marry you if I need to. Is that what your father wants? Would he be happy if his pregnant daughter was married to her baby daddy? Would it make all this unnecessary drama shit better? Cause I’ll fucking do it.”

You glance down at your bare feet, wiggling your painted toes. The mauve-colored nail polish is chipping along your big toenail. If you’d ask, Aemond would definitely repaint them.

“Do you want me to marry you?”

Your tongue wets your bottom lip before you press your mouth in a tight line. “I don’t know if my daddy will let me marry you…” you admit, toying with your fingers.

Aemond then leans against the sink, arms crossed over his chest. “Oh? Is that so?” In his mind, he is freshly eighteen and enlisting in the army, attempting so hard to ignore the snarky comments made toward both his nose and chin and quiet demeanor. All the doubt and torment, the constant undermining and discouragement, and being told he’d never amount to a higher ranking.

His eye drops to your baby bump poking out from behind your shirt, and the delicious way those cute booty shorts hug your hips. You’re everything and more. “I can’t lose you,” he says, shaking his head. “I will not lose you.” He is so incredibly in love with you, driven by obsession, and deepened by the fact that you’re carrying his child.

“I’ll marry you. Next month, next week, even tomorrow if you’d like. Just say yes, and I’ll handle the rest.”

He has the ring in his bedroom, tucked away in the back of his top bedside table drawer — a love knot, glittering with a French pave’ set of diamonds that cover the band halfway in 18k white gold. A symbol of everlasting love, he was told by the jeweler. It’s been in his possession for well over a year now, he just needed to find a reason to use it.

And a baby seems like the perfect reason, doesn’t it?

(creds to the loml my literal everything @chainsawsangel for the banner above <33)

taglist for everything aemond: @randomdragonfires @aemvnd @moonteas @chompchompluke

#aemond targaryen x reader #dark!aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #dark aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #house of the dragon imagine #hotd fanfic #vic writes 🧸

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lena-in-a-red-dress · 19 days

Text

Blue and Fire Engine Red, Pt 5

Special thanks to @magicalstripedhorse, who helped keep this installment on track. :)

-----

“Oh no,” Kara drawls the moment she steps out onto the stoop of her building eight days later. “You have got to be kidding me.”

Lena smirks, leaning casually against the side of an old beat up pick up truck. The red ball-cap on her head is just as worn, its frayed bill extending backwards from Lena’s head.

“Flannel? Really?” Kara eyes the shirt in question where it’s tied around Lena’s waist. “Can you be any more of a lesbian?”

Lena spreads her hands. “We’re going to a farmer’s market,” she says. “What did you expect? An LBD?”

“Hm,” Kara hums, bouncing down the steps to greet her girlfriend with a kiss. “Maybe for dinner later.”

She definitely wouldn’t mind seeing Lena in a little black dress. Her mind conjures up an image that very nearly makes her pull Lena back upstairs, but the call of fresh fruit and vegetables proves to be too strong.

“All right, Tegan and Sara, let’s get going.”

The drive is somewhat familiar, as Kara has been to the farmers market before, but it’s been a while and it takes longer than Kara remembers. She’s not mad about it though– it gives her time to catch up with Lena about their weeks, which are relatively tame for a week in the life of first responders.

Lena had a few oven fires, a serious case of whiplash during a fender bender, and not one, but two cats stuck in a tree. Definitely tops Kara’s days of petty larceny, jaywalking, and a single wellness check. But she knows better than to comment on the relative slowness– the moment it’s acknowledged is the moment the sky starts to fall.

Just when the city gives way to suburbs, Lena turns the truck into a graveled parking lot. Kara takes note of the cars already there, and the thin stream of people already circulating through the stalls. It’s only mid-morning, and she expects the crowd will only grow as the day progresses.

“Come on,” Kara calls as she hops out of the truck, slamming the dusty door behind her. “I need asparagus.”

She gets her asparagus, and much more. She snags an artichoke and some lettuce as well as some strawberries she makes a note to prep for the next time Lena comes over. Lena splits away for a short moment, and comes back with fava beans and a joke about a nice chianti that makes Kara laugh.

Produce leads to cuts of various meats out of coolers. Lena nudges her. “You like steak?”

Kara’s mouth waters. “Oh, yeah.”

Lena requests two prime ribs, and tucks them and a slab of bacon into her tote alongside her fava beans. By the time they get to the baked goods and crafts, Kara’s own bag is sitting heavy in the crook of her elbow. She moves it to her shoulder instead, and has just prodded Lena towards a live herbs vendor when a call splits the air.

“Hey, Sarge!”

Kara turns on instinct, and to her surprise Lena does as well. The expectant set of her features strikes Kara as odd, but she focuses her attention instead on who might have called for her. She doesn’t recognize any of the oncoming faces, which makes her frown.

“Sarge!”

The crowd parts just long enough for a man in a wheelchair to roll out from the throng of people. His face is round and creased with joy as he coasts towards them, but Kara pulls back slightly when she doesn’t recognize him.

Lena steps forward. “Hey, Gonzales.”

Kara watches stunned as she extends her hand and engages in a sort of handshake with the man– palms, backs, and a fist bump top and bottom. Clearly, Lena is more than familiar with the man. Kara’s gaze darts back and forth between them, taking in Lena’s easy smile and the man’s eager countenance, which had yet to dim even when he turned his gaze to Kara.

“Yo,” Gonzales says with a grin. “When Jess said you stopped by the bar with a new lady friend, I knew she must have been a looker, but damn, Sarge–”

“Watch your mouth, Corporal.”

Kara steps up to introduce herself. “Sergeant, huh?” she says, smirking. Lena has yet to return to the subject of her time in the service, so Kara is thrilled to have even just her rank. “Who’d’a thunk?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Gonzales confirms. “The sergeant here was the best damn medic in the company. Saved our unit’s ass more than a couple times.” He rolls forward a few inches to offer a handshake. “Hector Gonzales, ma’am. Pleasure to meet one of the Sarge’s lady friends.”

“Police Sergeant Kara Danvers,” Kara returns. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Corporal.”

The man waves her off. “Please, it’s just Hector or Gonzales now. Gotta get used to the civvie life now. Right, Sarge?”

Lena rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “Sure.”

“You said you’re Jess’ brother?” Kara briefly scans Gonzales and notes an above the knee amputation and a serious burn scar on his right arm that stretched from his wrist to disappear under the sleeve of his t-shirt.

Hector nods enthusiastically. “Yes, ma’am!” He shoots a bright look towards Lena. “Did she tell you she got early admission to NCU? Honors track.”

Lena beams. “No, she didn’t! That’s wonderful!”

“First choice and everything. She’ll be the first one in the family to go to college, you know.”

“What is she planning to study?” Kara asks.

Hector’s grin is infectious. “Art. Our mother wanted her to be a lawyer, because that girl argue like nothing else, but she's had her sights on art from the beginning. Sarge has seen some of her drawings, when she sent some to me overseas. Remember Sarge?”

Lena nods. “They were pretty amazing.”

Kara smiles, but a tug of sadness pulls at some of her joy for Jess. She’d almost gone to art school once. That had been the goal, before the shooting. After everything that happened… well, she hasn’t picked up a brush in a long time.

“Hey,” Hector says, pulling Kara’s attention back to the conversation. “I’m getting some friends together to watch the game next weekend. You guys should come!”

Kara has no idea what game he means, or even what sport, but Lena nods. “Yeah, shoot me the details and we’ll try to make it.”

“Wilco, Sarge. Oh! And you can invite any of your folks from the firehouse too. I can tell them how lucky they are to have you.”

Lena’s cheeks flush pink. “Gonzales, I swear to god–”

“Hector!” A young hispanic woman calls from further down the aisle. “You were supposed meet me at– oh!”

“Cecilia!” Hector waves at her, beckoning her closer. “C’mere, this is the Sarge!”

Cecilia’s go wide. “Oh! Sergeant Reilly! I’ve heard so much about you!”

Lena’s easy smile widens. “Uh oh,” she groans comedically. She reaches for Kara, drawing her forward into the conversation. “This is Kara.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Kara offers gamely. They exchange handshakes, with smiles all around. Kara revels in being included, but even more so in the sense that she’s being allowed a further glimpse into who Lena is.

Hector and Cecilia are sweet together. Hector is engaged and enthusiastic, while Cecilia is a little more reserved. But Lena converses easily, laughing and grinning, totally at ease in the presence of her fellow soldier. Eventually, Cecilia reminds Hector that they’re almost due to be somewhere else.

“Right, right,” Hector nods. He prepares to roll away, but pauses to peg Lena with a stern gaze. “Game, next weekend. You’ll tell your crew?”

Lena nods with a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll let ‘em know. Good catching up, Gonzalez. Take it easy.”

“You too, Sarge! Rolling out!”

Lena watches them head off, then turns back towards Kara with a chagrined roll of her eyes. Her mouth opens, but Kara cuts her off. “Don’t you dare apologize,” she warns. “He was delightful.”

“Yeah,” Lena agrees. “He’s a good guy. Him and Jess both. They’re good eggs.”

“And besides, anyone who adores you like he does is definitely good in my book.”

This time, Lena’s roll of her eyes are directed at Kara. “Ah yes. Remind me to not let you two in a room alone. Who knows what shenanigans you’d get into–”

Suddenly a cry further down the aisle breaks through the buzz of people. Without conscious thought, or even a look between them, Kara and Lena both begin to push towards the call. Breaking through the circle already starting to form, they find a young woman seizing on the ground.

Lena immediately kneels beside her, smoothly untying her flannel and folding it as a pillow to pad the woman’s head against the pavement. “Calling a bus,” Kara says briefly, already pulling her phone out to dial.

“Hold up,” Lena calls, her voice firm with easy authority. “Got a medical alert bracelet here.” She flips the silver tag to read the inscription, then nods to herself. “No ambulance. Known condition.”

Kara nods her acknowledgement, pocketing her phone as she crouches. “What do you need?”

“Some water would be good, if you can find it.”

“On it,” Kara confirms, rising back to her feet. But the time she returns with a bottle of water from a nearby vendor, the girl’s seizing has stopped. She answers Lena’s questions with slurred, mumbling responses, but Lena doesn’t look concerned.

“Okay, Lydia, you’re doing great. Just take your time.”

Kara kneels to one knee, handing over the bottle of water. “Any chance she hit her head?”

“I’ll evaluate once she’s a little more with it. So far nothing concerning.” She glances towards the lingering crowd. “Could you get us some space?”

The remaining onlookers moved on once Kara started waving them away, assuring them the situation was handled. When the last resume their shopping, Lydia is blinking up at Lena with eyes rapidly sharpening with focus.

“Welp. That’s embarrassing,” she delivers drolly, pressing a hand to her forehead.

“There you are,” Lena says, gently giving Lydia’s shoulder a pat. “Lydia, my name is Lieutenant Riley with the National City Fire Department. Do you feel ready to sit up? I’ve some water here I’d like you to sip.”

Lydia manages to sit upright with only a little bit of an assist from Lena. She accepts the open water bottle with both hands, which tremble as they lift the water to her lips. She takes several long gulps before groaning.

“Do you mind if I check your head for bumps?” Lena asks. “We want to make sure you didn’t hit your head on the way down.”

Lydia nods her consent, and holds still as Lena begins to investigate the back of her head with expert fingers. “Anything hurt?”

“Just my pride,” Lydia quips. When she catches Kara’s sympathetic gaze, she continues. “It’s still relatively new. My doctor says it should get better with medication, but… ugh! All I wanted was some asparagus!” She sighs. “At least I felt this one coming on– managed to sit down before it hit.”

Lena pulls away, placing her hands on her knees as she gives her patient a warm smile. “Well, I didn’t find any bumps or lumps, so it looks like that did the trick. Good thinking.”

“Oh god,” Lydia groans. “You didn’t call an ambulance, did you?”

“Nope.” Lena nods towards the girl’s wrist. “Medic alert did its job.”

“Thank goodness,” Lydia sighs in relief. “I seriously can not afford another trip.”

Lena chuckles, rubbing Lydia’s back. “I can imagine. How do you feel about trying to stand? I’d feel better if we got you to some shade.”

She gives Lydia a hand up, who seems steady on her feet. Once satisfied the girl wasn’t about to keel over, Lena nods towards a small patch of trees. “How about that bench over there?”

Kara hovers, adrift without a way to help. She carries hers and Lena’s bags of goodies along with her as they all move towards the bench.

“How are you feeling?” Lena checks in once they’re seated.

Lydia pauses, taking stock. “Just tired, I think. Always feel like I got hit by a freight train, but it usually goes away.” She glances at Lena. “You guys seriously don’t have to stay.”

“I’d feel better if we did. Just until you feel well enough to finish up and get yourself home.”

“Okay.” Lydia stares at the open water bottle resting on her thigh, then looks back to Lena. “You said you were a firefighter?”

“And medic,” Kara offers, unable to keep quiet. Lena’s eyes flash at her, but in affection or irritation, Kara can’t tell.

Lydia’s eyes spark with interest. “I want to go to med school after undergrad. I don’t know what discipline yet, though.”

Kara listens to them converse for several minutes, propping herself up against the nearest tree. Closing her eyes against the sun, she breathes deep the smell of spring blossoms and fresh cut grass, letting the hum of their voices lull her to a state between waking and sleeping. Well, maybe more asleep than not, considering the bench is empty when she next blinks her eyes open. Lydia is nowhere to be found, and Lena is sitting on the ground beside her, scrolling through her phone.

“You could have woken me up,” Kara gripes half-heartedly.

“But it’s such a nice day to lean against a tree,” Lena returns, half teasing.

Kara reaches over until she finds Lena’s hand, lacing their fingers together. Neither of them move to rise.

“You were amazing just now.”

Lena merely shrugs. “Anyone in my position would have done the same.”

“We both know there aren’t many people who can do what you do.”

A hum answers her, but Lena refrains from saying anything else. Kara bites back a frown. She knows Lena doesn’t feel comfortable sharing anything about her time overseas as a combat medic– not entirely unexpected. Some of Kara’s veteran coworkers feel the same. And not all first responders respond well to positive recognition, which isn’t uncommon in the first responder community either. But Kara can’t shake the feeling in her gut that she heard a note of shame in Lena’s voice.

Whatever it is, Kara resolves to know it better, no matter how long it takes.

“Wanna get out of here?” Lena asks quietly. “I think I hear a steak dinner calling your name.”

Kara grins, but closes her eyes and leans her head against the tree behind her once more. “Just a few more minutes.”

She hears Lena smile, then a rustle as Lena leans back as well.

A good day indeed.

#supercorp #blue and fire engine red #the farmers market episode #they're lesbians harold

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mrsparrasblog · 30 days

Note

i don't wanna rush you or anything cuz u should take ur time. Just wanted to let you know that we NEED more Rudy and Alejandro content😭. Rudy is criminally underrated 🥲 like an obsessed Rudy crushing on mc? My heart-

Hey sorry that it took a bit to answer.💓 I love Rudy with all my heart💓 He is so underrated 💓and have many drafts of him, but I never had something where he was like obsessed , but I tried my best if you don't like it Im sorry :(, you didn't say if you wanted smut so I just wrote it without smut. I was half asleep writing this ngl😭

Anyways here 💓☀️🦋

Sweet as Cinnamon

Rodolfo was never one to fall for just a pretty face; he wasn’t shallow; he needed more. He always had that picture of the future Mrs. Parra in his mind. She needed to be soft, cute, romantic, and tolerant of everything. She needed to be a safe space from all the demons in Las Almas which haunted him.

When he turned 35, he almost gave up on his dream, too many failed attempts at dating. There were the ones who dated him to get closer to Alejandro, the ones who couldn’t handle him being a Sergeant Major, and then the ones who were too much involved with the cartel business.

And then one day he met you. He didn’t believe in love at first sight, but it was almost as close. The way you carried yourself, your charisma, the way you laughed, and the way your eyes sparkled, you were perfect for him.

He didn’t want to do anything more than approach you and ask you out on a cute date, but this time he couldn’t fail, not with his lifelong dream. So he made the only rational choice and became your shadow, trying to find out everything about you while constantly nagging Alejandro about how perfect you were.

"You know you could always talk to her," Alejandro suggested, not seeing the bigger picture Rodolfo saw. It needed to be perfect; you needed to want him before he made attempts; it should be natural. So he found out everything about you: the way you liked your coffee, your favorite book (which he bought and read to have something to talk to you about), your favorite film, favorite food, and even your workplace. It wasn’t a surprise for him that a sweet thing like you owned a bakery; everything was freshly baked by you, and it tasted like absolute heaven to him.

When he watched you through the window, he imagined you staying in your kitchen, him wrapping his arms around you while you baked for him and your kids - it would be perfect. And you would never even come across the cartel; you were a delicate flower that needed to be protected and cherished, and who would do the job better than him?

The hard part was getting the men away from you who also wanted you. Of course, he knew you were a sight that would make every man weak in his knees, but you were already his, and the other men needed to understand that.

Some people underestimated him, thinking he was too short and not as muscular as Alejandro, but when the Sergeant Major stood at the poor men's door with a sinister grin and a firearm, telling them to never speak to his wife again, they listened. It made your love life absolutely miserable, but he was a good man; he only did this for you, and you would appreciate it at the end of the day when you finally could sleep in his arms, protected from the whole world.

After a year of preparation, he finally did it. He walked inside your bakery himself; the faint smell of cinnamon and fresh strawberries lingered everywhere; it was perfect. Of course, he knew your baked goods tasted good; Alejandro always brought him some, but he never went in himself. And the perfect girl you were, you were immune to Alejandro's flirting, one problem less.

"Hello, sir, how can I help you today?" you smiled at him, and his world stopped. You were even prettier from this perspective, flour on your face and that sweet little red apron. He wanted to marry you instantly, just carry you away and tie the knot, but he was a patient man, and right now, this was what he needed to be.

"Just some cinnamon rolls," and so it went on for weeks. Rudy became fast your favorite customer; he was always nice to you, funny, and left a good tip, like an extremely generous tip for just some cinnamon rolls. And if you were true to yourself, he was incredibly handsome, making you always blush like a girl with her first crush. Unfortunately, you thought he wasn’t interested in you. You always tried to flirt, but he never flirted back, or maybe he was just too obvious to realize it.

On Valentine's Day, you stayed the whole night away, baking red velvet heart cinnamon rolls just for him, a new creation, plus he would get a little heart on his cappuccino, which you tried to master for weeks.

He couldn’t contain himself when he saw this; he knew you were smitten, how you blushed and interacted around him. God, you were as obsessed as he was, but he needed to wait; he had his perfect plan.

He gave you his number just in case; Las Almas was never safe, and just so he could sleep calmly, knowing you’re safe, he said.

And surprisingly, a few weeks later, after you closed your little bakery, a man followed you on the way home. At first, you thought it was just imagination, but when you walked five times around the block and he was still there, you knew. So you did the only thing your mind comprehended: you called Rudy.

"Rudy, I'm being followed," you sobbed into the speaker while your feet practically ran.

Luckily, Rodolfo was there, shoving the guy away. If only you had known how he thanked his friend Fernando for scaring you a bit - he didn’t like this, but it was necessary. He wasn’t a bad guy; he saw himself as a determined man who would do anything for his future love.

If it were possible, your eyes would have turned into big cartoon hearts; god, he was perfect. Maybe you should try the first step, even if it's embarrassing, maybe he doesn’t like you.

"Thank you, Rudy."

"Don’t mention it, mi corazon." You blushed at this pet name, looking at him with your big doe eyes.

"Rudy, do you maybe want to stay the night to make sure he doesn’t come back?" And how could he say no to this opportunity? Well, he had your words already planned, but it still made something with him.

"Of course."

"Rudy?"

"Mhm?"

"You know, I thought about maybe we could-“ You stopped, feeling incredibly stupid. Rudy was perfect; how could he want someone like you, a normal person? But for him, you were everything but normal; you were perfect the way you were, the missing piece to his life.

"What can we do?"

"You know, get to know each other better," you mumbled beneath your breath, looking at the ground.

His calloused fingers pulled your chin up, forcing you to look into his beautiful eyes as his lips softly fell on yours. It felt like fireworks; if you thought you were kissed before - you weren’t, this was new, exciting, and perfect like in a Disney movie. "Like this, mi corazon?"

"Mhm, I like this way to get to know you."

"You don’t know how long I waited for this," he admitted, looking into your eyes as if you were the only thing keeping him alive; you were everything.

"I waited longer," you admitted, and he thought, if only you had known, how long he wanted you and chased after you, the things he did for you. And the only thing on your mind was if he only would have known how long you looked at him when he was still watching you from outside the bakery.

#cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #call of duty #tf 141 #rodolfo x reader #rodolfo rudy parra x reader #rodolfo parra #rodolfo cod #los vaqueros #call of duty modern warfare 3 #call of duty modern warfare #tf141

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rottenpumpkin13 · 5 months

Note

Picture this: Every December, SOLDIER and the Turks wage a baking war on each other--the fanciest and tastiest dessert wins. How do AGSZC plan to win the battle this year?

The Baking Competition From Hell

• Angeal, ever the perfectionist, starts prepping weeks in advance. He plans on baking the softest, most delectable, guaranteed-to-melt-in-your-mouth shortbread cookies ever. He spends countless hours researching the best ingredients and techniques to modify an old, secret family recipe. His kitchen throughout the month is a mess. There's test batches everywhere, the floor is always covered in sugar, and the man is stressed.

• Zack and Sephiroth team up to bake Christmas cupcakes!! This was a mistake!! Because Zack went into this purely for the fun of it, but now he's stuck with Sephiroth's competitive spirit and need to beat Genesis. Sephiroth has him practicing his frosting techniques like a drill sergeant. He refuses to lose to Genesis and his mince pies.

• Ah, yes, the mince pies. Genesis isn't worried at all. He knows his pie-baking skills are unmatched and that he's sure to surpass his friends in the competition. What he wasn't expecting, however, was for a certain silver-haired cretin to sabotage his recipe. Sephiroth went out of his way to sneak into Genesis' office when he was out, steal his expensive recipe book, and modify the recipe to include garlic, strawberry yogurt and hot sauce alongside the sugar and fruit. Genesis refuses to doubt the recipe, so he follows it.

• Cloud doesn't have the time nor patience to bake anything. So he orders a two-tier Christmas cake from a nice bakery and packages it as if he was the one who made it. He tells the guys some sob story about how he followed his mother's recipe with care, and hopes it doesn't taste too bad.

• Lazard and Tseng (the judges) are moved to tears by Cloud's humility. They try Cloud's Christmas cake, praising the flavor, texture and decoration. They don't even bother trying Reno's lewd gingerbread cookies, Elena's Yule log, or Rude's pudding.

• Cloud wins.

• Angeal finds the bakery package four hours later and has to be sedated.

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #ffvii crisis core #final fantasy vii #genesis rhapsodos #angeal hewley #ff7 crisis core #ff7r #cloud strife #zack fair #storytime

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cloudofbutterflies92 · 6 months

Text

Call of Duty OC:Eden“Spectra”Park

PERSONAL INFO

Name: Eden Johanna Park Mason

Alias: Spectra [She has several aliases however, as MI6 agent she must maintain anonymity about her true identity]

Rank: Agent

Age: 28(in 2022)

Sexuality: Heterosexual

Native Language: English

OtherLanguague(s): Italian, Russian, Ukrainian(A little bit), German, Spanish, Arab, French, Japanese

Date of birth: November 17 1994

Birthplace: Birmingham, England

Eye color: Olive green

Hair color: Raven black [But in the past she has had different hair colors such as blond, green, red, and blue. And she has also had them shaved]

Height: 5’3’’/1.60 cm

Body type: Lean

Bloody type: 0 negative

Faceclaim: Margaret Qualley

Relationship/Family

Grandmother: Helen Park

Mother: Anna Park

Father: Andrew Mason(deceased)

Love interest: Simon ”Ghost” Riley

Best friends: Chloe Valentine, John “Soap” Mactavish; Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

Friends: John Price; Alyssa Price (@alypink ,wife of John), Kate Laswell, Alejandro Vargas, Rodolfo Parra, Reggie [Another OC, inspired by Wrench from Watch Dogs] Valerie "Gorgon" Watson (@onehornedbeast OC) Maya “Pip” van Rijn(@justasmolbard OC)

Other: Alex Keller, Farah Karim, Yuri Volkov

Pet:Mr Orange, a orange cat that her and Simon adopted

Affiliations

Task Force 141

Captain John Price

Lieutenant Simon ”Ghost” Riley

Sergeant John ”Soap” Mactavish

Sergeant Kyle ”Gaz” Garrick

Lieutenant Maya “Pip” van Rijn(@justasmolbard OC)

Mexican Special Forces

Colonel Alejandro Vargas

Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra

Special Officer Alyssa Martinez Price(@alypink )

SASR(Australian Special Air Service Regiment)

Valerie "Gorgon" Watson(@onehornedbeast)

MI6

Helen Park

Agent Reggie

Anna Park

CIA

Station Chief Kate Laswell

Operation Alex Keller

ULF

Commander Farah Ahmed Karim

Personality and Traits

Introvert: She is not very disposed to the social life, preferring a good glass of wine in front of the fireplace in her home rather than the hectic life as a social butterfly, however doing her job as a secret agent she is very good at being able to hide her character, becoming the most social person in this world and using her manipulative techniques to get to the goal.

International Relations ability: Having a degree in international relations Eden was always sent by MI6 to a variety of places around the world to negotiate, interrogate, and even kill enemies who threatened the British government despite being very young, thanks in part to the help of her grandmother Helen, who instructed her on how to become the perfect agent.

Sarcasm: If there is one thing Eden specializes in it is finding sarcasm in situations even where it is the last thing a person might think of (ask Ghost during their mission in Russia just to give an example)

Camouflage: Being a spy Eden is capable depending on the situation that requires her to perfectly disguise herself in the role during the mission.

Profession and Skills

Profession Background and Main Skill: Bachelor's degree in international relations, with a master's degree in languages

Current Profession: Secret agent specializing in international negotiation for SIS, currently stationed in England. Other affiliations include the British government/MI6/CIA/Task Force 141

Weapon Preferences: B&T VP9, Assault Rifle, M4, Soul Harvester, Fiber Wire

Combat style:Krav Maga, Bujutsu, Judo, CQC(Close Quartet Combat)

Personal Preferences

Clothing Style: Dark Academia; Grunge, Femme Fatale

Favorite book: The Hellbound Heart-Clive Barker

Favorite Color: Red

Favorite drink: Argiano Brunello di Montalcino red wine, strawberry margarita, Pepsi, Monster

Favorite food: ramen, pizza, lasagna, carbonara

Favorite song: Cherry Waves - Deftones

FUN FACTS

•She studied in Italy under the false name of Selene Mastroianni until she finished high school linguistics (in Italy it ends around age 18) because her grandmother Helen being a 'secret agent' wanted her to study away from England.

•When she was sixteen she decided to shave her head to zero because she thought it was cool and played in a punk band.

•Her first tattoo, a small flower on her groin, was done when she was 17 illegally by a tattoo artist friend of hers.

•Eden has a scar on her belly, at the level of her uterus caused during a mission in South America

•Eden listens to various genres of music but the ones she likes best are grunge, punk, black metal, shoegaze and gothic.

Every weekend when there is visitation day at the nursing home for the elderly where Grandma Helen lives Eden happened to find Simon there playing chess with her grandmother and drinking some excellent black tea.

Eden tends to burn easily in the sun; in fact, one of the things she does in her routine is to put on sunscreen, even in the winter because her skin is so delicate that it quickly turns red.

Other habits Eden has are to bite her lips often, walk back and forth in tense situations, and carry a stress ball to avoid going into outburst.

Background Story/Biography

Eden was born in Birmingham in the Queen Elizabeth Hospital. Soon after her birth her father Andrew and mother Anna moved to Bexley to be closer to Eden's grandmother, the legendary Helen Park. There Eden spends the early part of her childhood, although her mother began to bear a grudge against her and treat her badly.

Since she was little, Eden has always wanted to discover the world, also thanks to the passionate stories of her father Andrew, a well-known English poet and professor. However, one evening, while they were all in bed apart from her grandmother Helen, on a business trip a fire broke out in their residence due to her mother, who had now fallen into the abyss of alcohol after being fired from MI6 which cost the life of her father. From that moment on, Eden's resentment towards her mother grew even more and without a chance for forgiveness, their destructive relationship led Eden's grandmother to ask for custody of her granddaughter.

When she turned 14, her grandmother Helen had her enrolled in a well-known linguistic high school in Rome, where she met her best friend Chloe Valentine. Those years were full of rebellion for her but also of so much freedom that then made her mature as a person.

At 18 she returned to England where, with great commitment, she managed to obtain a bachelor degree in international relations resulting in a master's degree in languages at the University of Oxford at the age of 26 and at the same time began training in MI6, despite her grandmother being against it.

In a short time, Eden managed to make a name for herself within the famous English spy agency, being nicknamed Spectra because she left no trace of herself in her missions.

One day, in January 2019 her grandmother Helen ordered her to investigate a group of Russian ultranationalists with the collaboration of Kate Laswell, Station Chief of the CIA and Herschel Shepherd, general of the US Navy. After that mission, Helen would retire, after many years of work within MI6.

With the orders received Eden reached Russia, where she managed to intercept through some informants that there is a known chemical gas compound that could be launched in Urzikistan. The mission was also in collaboration with the SAS, which had sent its best man: Lieutenant Simon "Ghost" Riley. The information should have been extorted from a well-known former Specnaz who ran a club in the city of St. Petersburg. The two together managed to infiltrate the club, posing as a couple there to have fun and capture the target after a very violent scuffle with his henchmen , after hours and hours Eden and Ghost managed to get information about the cargo. With the available information Eden is reached by Alex Keller, who manages to intercept the compound but he is attacked by a group of unknown enemies.She will come to discover that the cargo had been transported to a different area and that Kulikov had been used as a red herring to allow the enemy to hide the material and take time.

Between Modern Warfare I and Modern Warfare II

Eden was sent to Verbansk in late March 2019 to investigate a threat from a Russian ultra-nationalist group whose leader was Vladimir Makarov together with Ghost. The two, recovering information, managed to intercept a coded message in which they spoke of a terrorist attack within the next few days.

Modern Warfare II

The relationship between Eden and Ghost during this period is full of ups and downs, especially when Eden learns that Ghost has been sent by Sheperd and Laswell on a mission to Al Mazrah working with the Shadow Company. Eden does not trust Commander Graves and warns Ghost of the danger of the mission, but her grandmother persuades her by saying that they have a common goal: to stop Hassan Zyani, heir to General Ghorbrani who may pose a threat to the entire world.

I'm not very good at creating bios but I hope it was done well😭, it took me a whole day to make it and I hope you like it

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reds-skull · 5 months

Text

Not Alive, Nor Dead

[PREV PART] [AO3]

I was finishing up a cranberry jam while writing the first paragraphs, so I gave Ghost some to eat as well lol

The pantry is well stocked, for how barren the safe house is. Ghost sighs as he moves another stack of canned corn. What wouldn’t he give to have some tea right about now.

He settles on a jar of what looks like strawberry jam and a few crackers as his breakfast, and takes his food to the unstable table in the center of the room.

Johnny still hasn’t woken up, Ghost bitterly notes while munching on the stale crackers. The fact his fingertips are still unlit only sinks the stone in his chest further down.

He switches focus to Rudy when the man stirs awake, blinking bleariness away and straightening in his chair. He notices Ghost after looking at where Soap is and confusingly searching the room.

Rudy yawns as he comes to sit next to the table, “you didn’t wake me up for lookout?”

Ghost swallows another piece of remarkably dry cracker, “looked like you needed it more than me.”

The Vaquero’s eyes soften a tad, and he silently watches Ghost continue eating before getting up, “I’ll make us a tea.”

Ghost can feel his eyes widen, thanking each and every fucking Reaper in his heart, “cheers.”

Rudy smiles at his sudden bout of energy. The man instantly shot up in Ghost’s ‘most favored’ list.

Gaz joins their little breakfast not soon after, probably summoned by the heavenly smell of Rudy’s tea. They go about eating quietly, Ghost observing the others sending worried glances at Soap every few seconds. It almost starts to irritate him.

He hates not knowing what’s going on. He hates seeing Johnny in this state, knowing it’s Ghost’s fault.

Ghost cradles the still-warm mug, now empty, when he sees little flashes of light appearing in the room. He tilts his head in confusion, following the little manifestations materialize into moths, the tiny beings of light lazily flying around.

He gets up, slowly walking closer.

“Ghost? Something wrong?” Gaz calls behind him with a mouthful of corn.

“Moths…” he absentmindedly murmurs, following the otherworldly insects to the couch, to Johnny.

He hears the others get up from their chairs, “what are you talking about, hermano? I can’t see any.”

The moths land on Soap, idly walking over his cheeks, his arms, making their way down to his fingertips. They barely react to Ghost’s presence.

Garrick steps closer to him, “I think you need to sleep, mate…”

Ghost ignores them, watching as bright wings leave colorful embers behind them. Just like in Limbo, just like in his Reaper’s realm.

One small moth reaches Johnny’s fingertip.

Flame rekindles on his index.

More moths join it, lighting his right hand back.

“Look, his hand!” Gaz exclaims behind him, “is he waking up?”

A moth lands on his left arm, swiftly crawling to his hand. Johnny’s skin starts glowing, the veins under the dark marks of Limbo illuminate behind the insect.

The radiant blood flows down the limb, and Ghost feels the air heating up unnaturally. A sort of primal fear makes him take a step back.

Soap’s left hand ignites.

Johnny screams.

Fire, white, wispy flames, climb his arm, Soap jumping up, lifting his arm away from him, face contorted in pain.

Ghost hears voices behind him yell, try to calm his Sergeant down.

The fire continues to grow, engulfing his back, and for a split second Johnny looks up at Ghost with a plea in his eyes.

They tell him, “Make it stop, Simon.”

Without thinking, Ghost steps forward, and grabs Johnny’s left hand with his right. He expects pain to burn through him, but…

Ghost’s hand burns, the white flames turning his glove into ashes. Yet he doesn’t feel a thing, beside warmth, a sensation that reminds him only of bright smiles and silly jokes.

Johnny stops screaming, tries to shake off Ghost’s hold, “Simon, stop! Yer hand-!”

The flames instantly dissipate into the air, the moths along with it, leaving tiny specks of light to float through the air between them.

Johnny’s stare whips from Ghost’s eyes to their hands, and he lifts them to look at how Ghost’s skin, scarred as it may be, is completely unharmed.

Gaz and Rudy walk around them, horror on their face morphing to confusion.

Johnny gazes at Ghost’s eyes, “you’ve taken light… that’s what it meant.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Garrick finally asks.

Soap’s eyes unfocus, his stare drifting to the ground, hand letting go of his, “Limbo changed us.”

Ghost sees him faltering, legs weak and unstable. He catches his shoulder, “let’s get you something to eat first, Johnny.”

Soap looks at him, eyes wide, nodding meekly.

“Want some tea, Johnny?”

His Sergeant levels him with the most offended stare Ghost has ever seen on his face, “...no.”

Ghost basks in the way his eyes soften as they gaze at each other, “your loss.”

Garrick, ever oblivious, slams his empty (third) mug of tea, “alright, you two need to explain what the fuck is happening before I go mad.”

They both avert their eyes to look at Gaz, Rudy joining after finishing up with the dishes. Ghost sighs internally.

He supposes they can start from the start, “revenants in Limbo aren’t usually able to use their powers. I haven’t killed any particularly strong ones, but even the ones that do… they can’t escape its victims.”

Gaz nods thoughtfully, “no one survives the void.”

“No one except Johnny.” Ghost looks at the flickering flames on Soap’s hands, one bright with yellows and oranges, the other white. “At first, he survived only because I brought him to my safe zone. It changed him a bit, making him see the hands that try to grab me in this world, but this time…”

Soap picks up when his throat clogs, “Ghost was too far fer me to reach. I entered Limbo, and the victims tried to kill me.”

“But they didn’t” Rudy hums with interest.

Johnny shakes his head, “I blew them up, I kept killin’ them, but one got me.” he lifts his left arm, showcasing the fingerprints wrapping around his skin, “Ghost took back Limbo right after, but something changed. My hand felt cold, my fire was… different.”

Ghost looks at the unnatural white fire, “it looks like what I use to protect myself in Limbo.”

Garrick’s brows shoot up, “you gave him some of your powers?!”

“They gave each other”, Rudy realizes, “the fire didn’t burn your hand.”

Ghost feels his Reaper’s voice echo through the recesses of his mind, ”we didn’t give. We stole.”

“How is that possible…” Gaz trails off.

Ghost wonders as well. It’s one thing that one trip to Limbo allowed Soap to see his victim’s pesky hands, but to actually change his physicality?

Despite being its ruler, Limbo hides many secrets from Ghost. A place designed to kill anyone on Earth, no matter how strong.

He looks at Johnny. A revenant designed to destroy anything, literally anything, he ever touches.

An immovable object, meeting an unstoppable force.

“What happened to you right before you woke up?” Gaz shifts in his chair, questions still not entirely answered, “Ghost said he saw moths, but we couldn’t see shit.”

Soap startles at the mention of moths, turning to Ghost, “ye see them??”

“Not just in this world, Sergeant. They were in my Reaper’s realm as well.”

Johnny frowns, “the patterns… like ladders… they’re from your Reaper?”

“Affirm.”

Soap exhales, brushing his messy warhawk off his forehead, “I met my Reaper. It told me Ghost took something from me, but I took something as well. It said… we did something to our Reapers.” flames flutter between deft hands, “they’re connected. And now, so are we.”

Ghost looks at his right hand, scarred and ugly, and unharmed by fire.

Connected. For the rest of their lives.

The concept doesn’t scare him like it probably should.

Rudy and Gaz take a few moments to process the information. “What happens if you go into Limbo now, Soap?” the Vaquero questions.

“I rather we not put it to the test.” Ghost crosses his arms.

If he could, Johnny would never see the void again.

Soap, however, has other plans, “I want to. We should know what changed.” he casts a challenging stare at Ghost.

Ghost, the fool he is, relents. As he always does when those blue eyes gaze upon him.

“We can focus about that later. Do any of you know where Graves could’ve gone with hostages?” he diverts the conversation before Soap can drag him outside to take his newfound powers for a test drive.

Everyone’s face instantly darkens, “we have a few locations he could use… the base is the first.” Rudy taps a finger on the table, before rising, “we should have maps here, I’ll go look through them.” he gets up and heads for one of the backrooms.

“I’ll go with you” Ghost starts.

Rudy turns his head back, smiling slightly, “unless you can read Spanish, hermano, I don’t think you can help much. Worry about these two pandejos, alright?”

The two Sergeants squick incredulously.

Ghost can feel eyes burning the back of his head. Once Soap wants something, he really doesn’t forget easily.

He reloads the rifle he’s been examining for the last 15 minutes, all while a certain Scot has been staring daggers, practically whining for him to send him to the fucking void.

Ghost almost does it to spite him.

Gaz comes back from the walk he went to, surveying the entire safe house and checking the vehicles. He plops down beside the other sergeant, and starts floating not soon after.

“Heard Graves say something weird before everything went to shit.” he muses out loud.

Soap huffs, attention finally leaving Ghost’s head, “aye? What did the wanker blabber about?”

“Said something about you and Verdansk.”

Ghost turns to see Johnny stiffens. He decides to let his assumptions out now, “Johnny…”

Soap looks frantically between them, a sort of desperation clouding his eyes, before he yields and sighs.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter if I tell ye anymore… ye probably already know, don’t ye?” he looks at Ghost with that last sentence.

The group is quiet while Soap collects his thoughts.

“Ye heard about the accident in Verdansk, six years ago?”

Garrick nods, and Soap’s shoulders sag in defeat, “my squad had a mission there. Capture a Kastovian deserter. Callsign “Konchar”.”

Fire travels up the back of Johnny’s hands, “he knew we were coming. I separated from the rest, had to go defuse a metric ton of bombs.” he laughs humorlessly, “they both killed me and saved my life. Konchar… killed the rest of my squad. My Reaper told me, before letting me be reborn.”

“You wanted revenge…” Gaz’s brows are turned upward, as he feels the pain of his friend.

Johnny nods his head weakly, “I was stupid. Blind.” his breaths are slow and heavy, “Konchar found me, after the explosion. He told me he won’t die today, and shot me in the head.”

Garrick blanches, “Bloody hell…”

“It couldn’t kill me, but…” Johnny’s breath hitches, memories fleeting past his unseeing eyes, “it fucked my heid. I couldn’t think, I couldn’t remember, all I knew was rage and bloodlust.”

His pupils shrink in face of the growing fire, “we fought like fuckin’ animals, nothing else mattered beside killing the other person. Konchar threw whole buildings at me, but I kept exploding them. Buildings full of civilians.”

Johnny’s hands shake, “he screamed that his Reaper warned him about this, and in the back of my mind I realized that’s why he killed my squad. He wanted to get to me.”

Gaz puts a hand on Soap’s shoulder, and Johnny’s face crumples, “I killed him. Exploded his fuckin’ heid. My brain regenerated, and I looked around, and the whole city was burning.”

His arms light up, “I fuckin’ murdered millions, do you understand?! I’m an atomic bomb. They wanted to use me, but what the fuck are you supposed to do with that much power?!” Johnny was shouting now, his entire body shaking, “so they let me on defusal! I blew myself up again and again, but it doesn’t fucking matter how many times I die, it doesn’t change the fact I’m still a FUCKIN’ MONSTER-”

Garrick pulls Soap, strong hands tucking his head to his shoulder, “you’re not a monster, Soap. You couldn’t control yourself, you were about to die again. You were alone.”

Ghost gets up to take Johnny’s left hand, letting white flames swirl around their joined arms.

“I don’t care what you did in the past, Johnny.” Ghost murmurs, feeling the hand in his squeeze, “maybe you were a monster, for a moment. But the man I see now, he’s not. You’re as human as we are.”

And none of them are human. But they pretend.

Johnny pulls his head away from Garrick’s shoulder, wiping his face with his right hand, “I’m sorry…”

They stay together, air warm, and Ghost feels like this is the last safe place on earth for them.

“You don’t need to apologize, Johnny. We start grieving every mistake we made, we won’t be able to get up to change our future.”

Soap gives him a watery smile, “always the wise one, aren’t you?”

Ghost sighs, pressing his fingers to white flames, “experience will do that to you.”

Rudy opens the door at that moment, eyes fueled by determination, gaze hard before he takes in the scene, “oh I’m sorry… am I interrupting something?”

Gaz shakes his head as Ghost says, “got any news, Parra?”

The Vaquero nods grimly, “I got the place. I know where Graves took them.”

Hope this cliffhanger doesn't cause you as much pain as the others haha

#call of duty modern warfare 2 #cod mw2 #cod ghost #cod soap #cod gaz #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #rodolfo parra #call of duty fic #call of duty fanfic #call of duty modern warfare #cod fic #cod fanfic #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #something something love so powerful it transforms eldritch beings with powers beyond their comprehension #Im gonna go eat my cranberry jam now

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fel0ny-01 · 4 months

Text

Ghost and Price getting back at Soap and Gaz for tying all their shoes together, waiting under their beds to scare them by grabbing their ankles and putting salt in their teas, by mixing their red and their white clothes together.

So when laundry day comes around, Soap and Gaz put their different white piles in the washing machine, and usually (false I am not in the military but for the sake of the thing) a laundry person comes and sets the machines off, so they go about their day.

Incoming Price and Ghost who have been planning this the whole week, coming in and putting their red in the machines that Gaz and Soap ised.

Cue a pair of very angry, but very hello kitty, pretty pink princess, strawberry shortcake esque sergeants.

“You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes.”

#call of duty #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #captain john price #cod mw2 #cod mw3

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cerise-on-top · 6 months

Text

Soap with a Tsundere!Reader

What it says on the title. Essentially, you're drinking yogurt with him at 2am in the kitchen. Swear words, insults and stuff like that, but that's to be expected. SFW and gender-neutral reader, as per usual.

“You’re a horrible little gremlin man, you know that?”

Eyes narrowed, a scowl on your face, you regarded the man in front of you with disdain. At 2am you caught Sergeant MacTavish drinking yogurt straight from the little cup. Some of the pink dairy product seemed to have gotten on his cheek. Typical for someone like him, but that didn’t make it any less infuriating, actually. So good with any sort of weapon, so good in hand-to-hand-combat, he was capable of rivaling Lieutenant Ghost with his skills, so bad at literally anything else. If that man, that creature, could be muffled by throwing a pillow at him, you would have done so the first time you had met.

“Missed those remarks. You got any more comments about me this time around?” The stain of blueberry yogurt on his cheek seemed to stay as MacTavish simply threw away the cup, opting for another one. His next victim seemed to have been strawberry flavored. You could only watch in horror as he peeled off the foil on top, giving it a few licks before downing another small cup. You were well aware anything he did made your blood boil, but this was just the cherry on top.

“What are you, some kind of weird masochist? A sadomasochist? Leave the yogurt alone, or, at the very least, have the decency to eat it with a spoon! I swear, if I could I would make sure you step on lego every day, you losing lottery ticket! Spending time with you is like stepping into a puddle while wearing socks!” He seemed to take in your insults in the same way a lizard would take in the sun on a warm rock, seemingly pleased and without hurt.

Once again, the fridge was opened, this time victim to staying open for another few seconds before the sergeant took out two cups of yogurt, holding them out to you after closing it. Mango and banana, it seemed. “Go on, take one. Nothing wrong with drinking some yogurt. No one but us needs to know about it.”

“I refuse to stoop as low as you. You’re drinking these like they’re shots. That isn’t what they were manufactured for. Use a spoon like any normal person would or I will not hesitate to send you death threats every day per snail mail.” You opted for mango. Mango has always been a pretty good fruit, you were hoping the yogurt would taste similar to it. Even if the banana flavor was smiling at you as well, it would have been unfair to MacTavish.

“You tell me to go die in creative ways every day. It’s actually rather amusing. Now, peel it off and we’ll cheer to another mission accomplished well.” He indeed was holding out the small plastic cup like it was a glass of whisky, waiting for you to follow. Unfortunately, you did, peeling off the thin metal sheet and putting the rim against that of MacTavish. “Cheers!” Like a madman you actually put the yogurt cup against your lips, waiting for its contents to meet your mouth.

It didn’t take long for the taste of mango to reach your tongue, swallowing it as more came. The tiny avalanche seemed to halt soon enough, however, leaving the exotic flavor to be but a remnant. But you were determined still to make the best of it, licking the edge of the cup. Once you were done, you turned to the sergeant. “You’re just straight up a creature and it’s almost an insult to be drinking yogurt with you at 2am.”

“Almost.” He held out his cup, waiting for you to put yours in. You indulged him, grabbing the strawberry flavored cup as well and putting it in the tiny tower. In spite of you “disliking” him as much as you did, he still seemed rather pleased with himself. The bastard was just full of it and you did want to sock him in the face for it. Yet he was nice enough to throw the cups away. “Not so bad, is it? But I’d advise you against telling anyone about it. Price wasn’t very pleased to hear that people would drink this stuff.”

Going for the paper towels on the counter, you ripped two off, one for each of you. “Sure do wonder why. Anyway, don’t indoctrinate me into this sort of stuff again.” You handed him the towel.

“Don’t ye worry, next time we’re inviting Gaz to our midnight snacks.” The blueberry stain was finally gone for good after he wiped his mouth. “Though, I’d reckon you seem to like meeting in the kitchen in the middle of the night. Always a coincidence how we seem to meet here, just the two of us.”

“No! Not true! It just so happens that our stomachs share the same stomach-cell!” It was almost offensive that he would think that, such a thing could simply not be further from the truth. Crossing your arms, you straightened your back while making direct eye contact with him. Yes, he was a brave man, not afraid to take on an entire tank using nothing but a few grenades, but maybe he would back down either way, recognise that you were in the right.

A chuckle left his throat as he shook his head. “Wouldn’t exactly call eight times in a row something made up. Maybe we do share a stomach-cell, though. Why don’t we meet somewhere else next time, then? See how alike they really think when it comes to food.” He mimicked your body language, an eyebrow raised as well.

“Oh, well, about that-”

“Going on a date, just the two of us.” He took a step closer. “Finding a nice restaurant, spending time outside the kitchen with each other.” Another one, he was standing right in front of you, head tilted as he stood tall and strong. ��Maybe more.”

The last time you were this close to him he pinned you down during a sparring session. His scent made you a bit woozy, as did his warmth that you seemed to attract like a magnet. It stuck to you, much like iron filings. Regardless of what you did, MacTavish, more often than not, seemed to be by your side. It had to be that way, you simply weren’t ready to admit to it being the other way around. “Well, I mean, that’s certainly an offer. There is a restaurant nearby that isn’t too bad either, but there’s no way I’d go there with you?”

“Was that a question?”

“No?” The roll of paper towels suddenly seemed a whole lot more interesting than your conversation partner. Stepping away from him would mean that you lose the fight, there was no doubt about it. MacTavish seemed almost cocky this time around, it was sort of unfair. His hands were rather big as he placed them on your shoulders lightly pushing you against the counter. And yet, it seemed so easy: Indulging yourself, letting him touch you this gently. There was no way of telling when the next time would be. A warm thumb gently caressed your shoulder, moving the fabric of your shirt from side to side. “I could easily just punch the living lights out of you, and you know that. I’m not that weak.”

“Never said you were. You’re pretty mean on the battlefield, I know that much. Though, you didn’t answer me if you wanted to go on that date.”

You sighed, tensing up a bit again to try and get him to stop, against your better judgment. “Fine, but only if that’s what it takes for you to leave me alone, you moronic creature.” It did what it had to do, MacTavish stepped back.

“Perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Unless you wanna come cuddle tonight?” The warmth faded into the night. Yet, for as enticing as that offer really was, you couldn’t best your pride, especially not when a smirk like that made its way onto his face.

“Shut the fuck up and go to bed. I can and will reconsider if you don’t stop pestering me.” A hug from him would probably be amazing. He was strong, he was warm, it would likely make you act like a greater idiot than you already have tonight.

“Alright. Night, then.”

“Night.”

Quietly, you watched him walk away, only muttering to yourself once he was out of sight: “What a fucking idiot.” As soon as the echo of his steps no longer reached you, you stormed out of the kitchen, heading to bed yourself.

#cod #cod x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader

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blingblong55 · 1 year

Text

Strawberry Fields- COD Men

Based on a request

In your line of work sleep isn't taken for granted. It is the most precious thing a soldier can hold onto while on the field. It is those minutes/hours where the world seems better. For you lately sleep is just an old memory. Lately as the team has prepared for one of the bigger tasks they have been assigned on, your sleep schedule has fallen on the shorter side of the spectrum.

For a few days now you have been able to find certain moments where you can close your eyes. Your teammates understand why keeping you in a quiet environment is important. Just last week Ghost found you asleep under a tree while Price made you all rehearse (to put it in kind words) the way you all would have to execute the plan. You for days only slept a max of 5 hours. Ghost was waiting on you for your next move. He grew worrisome when you never answered to your callsign.

"c'mon sergeant answer the damn radio!",

you were radio silent.

He told Gaz and Soap to search for you by their location. Around minute 13 of searching he found you under a tree, you were completely knocked out. "tsk tsk, you drIve me insane kid." he sat by you, the sun now setting. He reached for his radio "kid is fine, we'll resume training at 0600." He ever so gently placed his hood over you. He had to admit he too didn't sleep much during this time, his eyes became heavy and as the dark of the night started to take over, you and him slept under that willow tree.

--------

The first week of training with the team, you and Gaz were assigned to work together as a team. Price would be on comms, watching how well his team worked together. It was a piece of advice Laswell told him about. After exhausting all of you at sparring, he made you all run a few laps around base. And even after that, he wanted to test how well they would manage to work under pressure and no sleep.

It was around hour 27 of his "build a team" process that your body starts to give out. Yes you were a highly trained soldier, but even the best must rest for a few minutes. It was around 1 am when you laid in the soft sand, waiting for soap to disarm a bomb, the same one Ghost fucked up by his

"I know what to do, for fucks sake I am your superior" moment. Gaz nudged at you, "rest. I 've got us covered." he gave you a soft smile. You wanted to accept the offer, but what if this was some plan from price to see if you were good enough to be part of the force? You shook your head, "m'fine. You need it more than me."

Thats how it was for hours. By noon an old friend of Price, Nikolai, dropped his soldiers on the field. You and Gaz were ordered to hop in the moving helicopter. "Go!" he ordered as your now shaking hangs tugged at the rope. Once inside the helicopter, you looked down, Ghost and Soap following along, the "enemy" being 'Chimera' shot at you all. You sat down, talking a deep breath. Your hands held your gun, and as the cold yet softy breeze from the helicopter hit your now dirty face, your eyes started to grow heavy. Gaz shifted closer to you. "your turn." he patted his shoulder and you slowly lowered your head, your eyes finally closed. It felt so intimate to fall asleep around all these tough soldiers, but god did it feel so good.

-------------------

It was during the raid of the son of La Araña that you and Alejandro met. You were a mercenary, something Alejandro was warned about the second you were flown in. It had been days since you and him were out training with the special forces that you had grown tired. You knew you had a point to prove here, so you didn't get much sleep as the others. Alejandro found you roaming the grounds at around 2 am, "buenos Dias, I see you woke up before the others." He walked up to you, a gun on his hand. "buenos Dias," you butchered the words. "I didn't get much sleep, not at all to be clear." you whispered the last part. "hm, you will need it."

It wasn't until 3 in the afternoon, that your lack of sleep started to catch you. You sat at some dirty floor in the base. The team had been on the field for a while now. Alejandro approached you. His steps muffled by the vehicles and soldiers chatter. "Tired?"

"no."

"you better sleep."

"I can't, have a task to complete."

"so is this just another assignment?"

"no. But I want to prove that I can stay active, just incase."

"no need," he handed you a warm mug of tea. "What's this?"

"tea, does your country not have this?"

"We do, just that tea is for soothing, calming if you will."

"thats why I brought it. You need it."

You stared at the warm mug in your hands then back at him, you give him a slight nod and take a sip.

"s'good, you made it?" You took another sip,

"yes, my nana's recipe." he sat next to you and took a sip out of his own mug. "Las Almas is a crazy place, but I can assure you it's beautiful when all else isn't." He looked out the field, the place where he was raised, showing the colors of all the homes and businesses around. "it's a home." he ushered.

"thats why you are so focused on this?" You look out, meeting Las Almas from this angle. Your eyes shift back to him, a faint smile on his lips as he nods. And for hours you and him talked. Soon you excused yourself and went to your part of the base, there laid a small bed and just enough space for you to walk around. "this is home eh." you squat down and lay on the mattress. "night mexico." you soon drift to sleep.

---------

Shadow company hired you, Graves proud to have you on his side. "so, this is home for a while." he showed you to the quarters. It was late at night when you touched down at base. But it was a ritual to walk around, get a feel for the place. You couldn't sleep, it was part excitement and anxiety that kept you awake. This day next week I'll be proving my worth, you said to your self. You were chosen to go with graves and the other soldiers to a special mission.

And for days during that time you worked like a dog. Running up and down. Barely catching your own breath. It was true that shadow company weren't much of a 'easy' going PMC. You knew Graves was putting his own credibility at risk by adding you to this mission.

The times when you did get sleep, they were cut short. The enemy was relentless. At some point they stopped, thats when he saw you at your lowest, he pushed you harder than he pushed any other soldier under his command. "get some rest, you earned it." he patted your shoulder and sat across from you. "can't sir, we have a target on out back right now and I don't think-"

"r/n, you listen to me okay. I dragged you through hell for the past couple hours, and as a thank you, get the rest you much need."

"but sir-"

"no but's soldier." he grabbed the gun from your hands, a small yet significant smile on his lips. "I'll for us both." you nod and lower your cap to cover your eyes. And for nearly 2 hours he watched as you slept. When others would approach him he would send them away, and as others started to raise eyebrows, he would simply ignore them. But if anyone dared to ask, he would let them know, it's time for a nap, as he usually would tell his toddler back home.

-----------

Rodolfo was more on the kinder side when it comes to you. He grew fond of you while you helped him and the team get back their HQ. Truth be told, he saw himself in you. When he heard you'd be back in town to help him look over Las Almas while Alejandro went after Valeria, he was thrilled. For the past two days you barely got any sleep. You and him had been driving around his home town making sure things were safe. He didn't know how tired you were. How you started to bite into the inner part of your mouth as a nervous tick. That was until tonight.

"Hermano/a, you okay?"

You nod, you blink slowly. "don't worry hermano." but he knew that look when he saw it. He saw that same look on Alejandro when they were in bootcamp. So he did the same thing to you as he had done to Alejandro in many occasions. He placed an old blanket on you, "this is so others don't know you're here." that was his pathetic excuse. He drove through the town, he made sure that the warm air would find its way to you. You smiled as the air tugged at your clothes. "I know what you are trying to do Rudy. Won't work." but that soon proved to be a lie. You sat there in the car, soft snores coming from you. "Todos dicen lo mismo." he parked near a food stand and as he ate his meal he watched you sleep. "Novatos." he shook his head and took a sip from his drink.

-------------

While Soap appeared to be more of the battle buddy to Ghost, you and him had become closer. A super special ultra mega battle buddies kind of close. It had become difficult to explain that meaning to the lieutenant or the captain. But as long as you two understood it, it was all good. This mission it would only be the two of you. You two had been sent to Nicaragua, under the impression Shepard could be in hiding there. You two ran and at times walked along the coast line. After much needed breaks you made it into the forrest, a small safe house was near. Soap took the night shift looking over you both. But the night, all you did was worry about the mission. You even created a second plan incase it all turned ugly too soon.

By the morning he walked into the room, you were already awake and waiting for him by the bed. "nap time soap!" you patted his back and walked into the living room.You scanned magazines, some in English, others in spanish. It took a minute to read the ones in spanish though. But by hour 15 into your sleepless clock, added by the jet lag and the exhaustion, you looked up to the ceiling, you closed your eyes. Soap heard a loud sound come from the kitchen, but was surprised to see you on the couch. Apparently when you tried to stay awake, you opened a window and a bird got in. He sat next you, placed the blanket on you both and as his head rested on yours, he slept.

It was comfortable to you, hell to the poor scotsman. Every little noise he heard, he swore you two were under attack. But his restless 'nap time' was a price to pay to see you finally rest.

--------

Price was the kind of man that always pushed his favorite soldiers harder just because he wanted to see them succeed. And lately it seemed you were the ultimate favorite. God this man made you work for hours just because of little attitudes you would give him. "it's a smart idea, thanks kid." he told gaz, "what a dumb idea that is." you spoke up. And since that long morning meeting he had you working in files, stapling and un-stapling them all. After your 12 minute lunch he made you reorganize the files you had just organized. And then when he knew you'd be napping, he walked in with a former drill sergeant.

"GET UP SOLDIER, SLEEPING IS FOR THE DEAD, MOVE IT MOVE IT." that man had you running for HOURS. If you stopped for a break, Price would come up and squirt water in your face. "I SAID MOVE IT!" the drill sergeant commanded. You eventually just gave up. "if he says I am a valuable member of his team, I wonder what he'll do when I disappear into the woods." you said to your self as you stopped to drink water. "MOVE IT SOLDIER!" The man shouted from a distance, "the fuck?" you swore he and price had some sort of microphones with good speakers, because there is now way that man can be THAT loud. You ran and ran. When you noticed they were talking to Ghost, you jumped the fence and into the woods you went.

It really freaked him out when you hadn't passed them on what was supposed to be your next lap. "Ghost, let the guards know we are in lockdown." Ghost left soon and the whole base remained in doors. He and Soap looked until after hours for you. He found you laying on the ground. He ran to you, thinking you were injured. But he wasn't surprised when he found you well and safe. You snored a little and talked nonsense in your sleep.

"goddamn it." he placed his hat on you and he picked you up. "I should make you run even more for this." he walked back to base with you in his arms. Soap almost fainted thinking his comrade was injured.

"Fuck off soap, not now." he took you to your room. He took your gear off, (yes this man made you do all those tasks with all your gear on) and boots, he tucked you in. He sat on a chair near your bed. He lit a cigar and stared at you all night.

----- Tags: @anonymuslydumb

A/n: hi, so I know this isn't exactly what you requested (I think) I am too currently running on no sleep, so this is all mainly a brain fart piece of writing.

Also, I am still shadow banned so if you can see this one but didn't get a notification, I truly apologize.

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moonshinemusings · 1 year

Text

General Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra headcanons (Pt.1)

Warnings: none

A/N: I am desperate for more content with him

• Has seen Alejandro eat shit so many times that he doesn't even laugh anymore, just shakes his head and sometimes asks if he's okay

• His jokes are either sarcastic or the worst dad jokes, but Alejandro thinks they are the most hilarious thing ever. Him and Ghost also share a similarly deadpan humor, so they often bond over that in their own way

• He really likes pink bubblegum and he can blow bubbles with them too

• He loves mint flavoured stuff, but his favourite flavours are definitely strawberry and raspberry (be it candy, ice cream or any similar)

• He's your typical calm driver, somehow he never gets road rage

• As a kid, he used to have a favourite bear plush that he still has and takes care of (makes sure it's clean etc)

• He used to be the child who always shared his lunch and snacks with others

• That doesn't mean he stopped giving, far from it: he regularly donates to charity and visits animal shelters when he can

• He might seem harmless at first, but he deserves his title as Sergeant Major. Everyone knows there is something off about him, it's like a well-known secret, so nobody tries to mess with him (or Alejandro for that matter). Those who do? Their future will not be so bright

• Can't for the life of him style his hair, so he just lets it do its thing every morning without fussing over it too much

• His poker face is better than anyone else's on the team (except Ghost, but no one can beat him anyways)

• Speaking of poker, Los Vaqueros sometimes have poker nights. Rudy keeps the high score with the most wins, which makes Alejandro a little jealous because he can't beat him. When they were still in the same unit with Valeria, her and Rodolfo often had multiple hour long games where nobody was brave enough to chime in

• Really good at puzzles and logical games, he can solve a rubik's cube under five minutes

• He's always been fascinated by planes and for a while wanted to be a pilot

• He's a firm believer that natural medicine is much better than it's counterparts, and anything he comes up with when someone is sick always works better than whatever they originally got prescripted

• Some call him "wizard" or similar nicknames for that, but he doesn't mind the jokes too much

• Has personal beef with tequila. He got so drunk off it once he didn't remember anything from the night before and had the worst hangover of his life

• Loves unusual looking animals, specifically penguins for some reason

• He has a morning and night routine that he keeps, and doesn't like when they don't go as he planned

• He's really good at decorating stuff, especially when it comes to furnishing. Probably half of Alejandro's house was decorated by him

• He's an amazing cook and it's basically a hobby for him. Loves spending time in the kitchen and thinking about new recipes

#cod #call of duty #cod mw2 #modern warfare2 #rodolfo rudy parra #rodolfo parra #headcanons

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