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crookedkryptonitebeliever · 5 months ago

Text

Yandere Coworker (Part 16)

Thank you @i---believe---in---pink for commissioning this chapter.

(3443 words)

tw: afab reader, infantilization, nonconsensual touches from Cyprus, butchered Spanish, slight injury, violence, cyprus got pretty mad

Masterlists (+commission info), part 1, part 17

You twisted the knob and let the door creak open, the foreign noise made all parties quiet. From the gap, you peek out and see Cyprus, his mother, and another person standing by the doorframe, it seems like the stranger has tried to push their way in but couldn't succeed, thanks to Cyprus's hulking figure serving as an immovable gate.

Cyprus shot you a glare as he gestured for you to go back into the bathroom and close the door, he did so by jerking his head in the general direction of your original hiding place.

"Who's there?" The third voice was deceptively soft and kind, it couldn't be one of the voices shouting so fervently. It is feminine, and you immediately assume the worst; one of his insane exes is here. You made the smart move to retreat back and shut the door behind you, but you still pressed your ear against the barrier. It allowed you to listen to their muffled voices.

"Get the fuck out of my sight or we're calling the cops." Cyprus sounded aggressive with his guttural growl, which made you appreciate the way he speaks to you these days with the sweetest coos and murmurs.

"Who was that, Cyprus!?" You winced when the stranger let out a shrill shout. It is followed by the sound of struggling and yelling from Cyprus and his mother. It sounded violent, there was clattering of furniture and vague thudding, to which you can only deduce that the stranger is destroying the place and Cyprus is trying to stop it from happening.

There were panicked exclamations from Cyprus's mother amongst the chaos. In the end, you heard a slam so loud that it echoed throughout the apartment and caused the bathroom walls to reverberate. There was muffled screaming, but it was much softer than before; you assumed that Cyprus successfully shut the door on her. Aside from her deranged shouting, the living room was mostly quiet, and you deemed it safe enough to leave your safe refuge.

You cautiously opened the door and slipped out of the bathroom once more. The front door is locked, latched, and barricaded by a sofa. Cyprus is staying clear of the door, you could hear manic banging on it.

His mother is nowhere to be seen, but you hear her voice talking on the phone from her room. It sounds like she's talking to an emergency line operator.

Ignoring the frightening sounds of insanity outside, Cyprus calmly walked to you and firmly wrapped his arm around your waist. He pressed an assuring kiss on your head as he led you into his mother's bedroom. You asked him what was going on, and to that, he merely flashed you a smile. "Don't worry about it," Cyprus said as he shared a look with his mother before shutting the door behind him.

You saw his mother hastily walk to the door, blocking it with her body as if guarding it. All this while, she was still on the phone with the operator. You think that she's trying to stop you from getting out.

You took a few steps and decided to sit on a chair, it's probably not very safe to be outside anyway. You nervously wring your hands as your ears continued to pick up on the shouting and hitting. All you could do was pray that the police would be here soon, even if Cyprus is a professional boxer, his fists are no match with a bullet if she happens to be armed and dangerous.

You waited and waited. Somewhat grateful for the older woman's presence in the room. Even if she doesn't look like she could physically do much to protect you, the idea that she's willing to be a barrier between danger and yourself is heartwarming. Yet pitiful, she is only doing this because she perceived you to be the best option yet; she is paying for her son's atrocious taste in women.

The two of you waited, the operator stayed on the phone with her. You were sure that the stranger's havoc was audible enough for the microphone in her device to pick up.

It felt like eons before it slowly became softer and softer, you deduced the deranged woman somewhat lost interest and walked away. You sighed in relief but tensed up when you noticed Cyprus's mother was still not as calm as you like. She widened her eyes when she realized where you were sitting.

You let out a surprised exclamation when she suddenly grabbed you by the arm and pulled you away from your resting place.

Your questions are shortly answered with a deafening crash and tiny stings as shards of glass give you small, but painful cuts on your skin. His mother rushed to open the door, dragging you out of the room and pushing you into Cyprus's protective arms. He was eerily silent, staring at the cause of his mother's glass window shattering. You adjusted your head, so you could see past his muscular structure.

A rock. Not particularly large, it's smaller than the size of your palm, resting on the floor with glistening specks of broken glass illuminated by the lights above. Other than that, nothing seems to be amiss, except unintelligible, distressed yelling coming from outside.

The implications sent shivers down your spine, the three of you aren't on the ground floor. That means whoever Cyprus invoked the wrath of, was powerful enough to hurl a rock to break a window at this height. The fear subconsciously made you sink deeper into Cyprus for comfort, so he wrapped his arms around you tighter. He pressed numerous kisses on the crown of your head as he whispered words of assurance, but you were too occupied to register what he said.

After that, you heard a car alarm go off along with disordered metallic whacking and banging. You think she's in the process of destroying Cyprus's car; he, his mother, and you were hoping that the police would be here sooner. He sighed softly, you knew that he was angry and despondent, who wouldn't be, knowing that the vehicle that you bought with your hard-earned money was being eviscerated? However, Cyprus is clearly trying to control his temper around you, so as to not make any brash decisions to put you in harm's way. As shown by his enraged shaking. The idea of compromising your safety was the only thing stopping him from rushing down the fire stairs and beating her half to death.

His mother rubbed his arm to calm him further. She shared a sympathetic look with you.

The woman was long gone when the police arrived. It took almost all evening for them to gather evidence and everyone's statements. Dinner was long forgotten, the beer was at room temperature and his car was totaled; the offender managed to mar it so badly, it couldn't even start anymore. There were fluids of different colors and viscosity leaking out of his once functional vehicle, and Cyprus had to arrange for a flatbed tow truck.

You were treated for the minor cuts you sustained by the paramedics, Cyprus refused to leave you alone with them. Almost raising hell when one of them politely asked him to give you a bit of privacy, luckily you were there to tell them that you're fine with him being around to supervise.

His mother drove the two of you back to his apartment, Cyprus held the sourest look on his handsome face as he was in the foulest mood. It was so bad, that he didn't even care to touch you in any way nor did a sound leave his lips. His eyes are perpetually trained forward on the windshield, you don't think he blinked once; even if the headlights of another car were shining directly into his eyes.

You couldn't help but feel somewhat guilty, feeling like you caused all of this just because you're nosy. Maybe if you stayed still in the bathroom, his Ex wouldn't have done this much damage.

Luckily the drive wasn't that long. Before you felt too compelled to say something, his mother announced that she had reached your destination.

Cyprus gave her a curt goodbye before storming out of the car. But he didn't ascend the stairs yet, he merely loitered nearby to wait for you. His fingers are twitching, itching for a cigarette or ten. To quell his urges, he leaned against a wall and crossed his arms, letting himself steam in his fury. His steely eyes never left you, though.

You excused yourself and got out of the car too, in a much calmer way.

"Mija." She had her window rolled down. She gestured for you to come closer.

You did, and you received a maternal kiss on the cheek, a solemn goodbye for now.

You were about to pull away and return to Cyprus, but she held you by the wrist. You turned your head back to her, it appears that she has something more to say.

"He is not angry at you." She gave you a kind smile. "Please don't worry, my son loves you very much."

Was it obvious on your face? Either that, or she's a mind reader.

You dismissed yourself and walked up to him. His mother drove away and you hope that she gets home safely. No doubt, she's still shaken by that.

He uncrossed his arms and approached you too in large strides, spooking you. But he didn't do anything other than to tuck his arm under your knees, to carry your bridal style. This, of course, embarrassed you. So you protested, but it was quickly shut down when he shot you a threatening glare and barred his teeth, like a dog. You shrunk back and let him carry you up the stairs like this; perhaps this is his way of cooling off now, seeing that he doesn't want to break his smoke-free streak.

He unlocked the door, opened it, and immediately locked it behind him. Cyprus, despite all his anger, sets you down on the couch extremely gently. He marched off into the bathroom but he didn't close the door behind him as he merely washed his hands with soap. It didn't take long before he returned with clean, dry hands, You didn't even notice that he had set your medicated drops on your lap.

"Look up." You didn't dare to make a fuss, his tone was already strongly suggesting that he was not playing with you. He swiftly applied your eye drops before recapping them and putting them away.

You were rewarded a kiss on the forehead and a praise, "Good girl." He whispered softly as you squeezed your eyes shut. You wonder if he's just going to do this each time he administers your drug until you're cured.

Cyprus shot up and spent no time going to the kitchenette. You watched him prepare the utensils and ingredients he needed for tonight's dinner. You were curious why he would rather go through the trouble of doing so instead of ordering food delivery. But you weren't comfortable asking him that, so silence hung heavy in the air.

He looked exhausted, and you knew that there were an impossible number of thoughts behind those grey eyes that were concealed by the glare of his glasses. You felt some sympathy for him, after knowing a bit more about his history earlier.

As it turns out, the offender was indeed, an Ex of his. Cyprus has moved many times due to constant harassment from his previous lovers and the police's incompetence. She is one of them, but not the sole terror. She had found his mother first, and she was stalking her for months; around the time you and Cyprus became an item.

The woman tried to gain his mother's favor, leaving gifts, running errands for her, and trying to talk to her every chance she got, all to his mother's approval for their relationship and to know where his son was. It was completely inappropriate, that she would pretend to be incredibly close to his mother, following her to church gatherings and introducing everyone around as Cyprus's mother's daughter-in-law. This terrified his mother, but she was sadly used to it, as this wasn't the first or even the fifth Ex to do this.

She tried alerting Cyprus through texts or by calling him, but he has the bad habit of brushing her concerns off. His exes would usually lose interest in her over time and leave her alone without Cyprus's intervention. After you started "dating" him, she couldn't get a hold of him, as he was constantly too busy enjoying the healthiest love life he ever had. Cyprus knew if he had told her about you too soon, they would get into a fight; his mother would always assume the worst in his girlfriends no matter what he says now. That's why, he decided to surprise her with your existence earlier today.

As it turns out, the conversation that he had with her all afternoon was about you, gushing about how amazing of a person you are, telling her how happy you made him; and as his mother, she could see it. She could see that you are actually a positive force for her son. Someone entirely different from the types of monsters he would always attract. You're so lovely, so kind, so docile. She only wished that Cyprus would shut up for a while so she could tell him about the looming threat of one of his stalkers. But every time she tried to change the subject, Cyprus would cut her off and talk about you instead, too blinded by his infatuation with you to realize that he was foolish.

Alas, she could also see that her son loves you much, much more than you love him. Maybe that was the missing piece after all, that Cyprus is a giver, not a receiver. There is always a downside to everything, and in this case, it was the fact that you don't seem to want this relationship. But she thinks that can be worked around, she just needs to convince you to stay and she will try her damned hardest to do so. A mother wants nothing but to see her son happy and thriving.

In a sense, this was his fault. This is entirely his fault, you should be absolved of all blame. He should feel like crap, not you. Cyprus deserved this, if only he listened to his mother, if only he picked up his mother's phone call from time to time if only he hadn't stopped by at her apartment... if only he hadn't met you--

Your train of thought was broken by Cyprus nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck, greedily inhaling your scent as he trapped you in his arms. You made no move to stop him, to stop his fondling or kisses.

"Stop blaming yourself." He mumbled against your skin as he rubbed his hands over your thighs. You didn't deny it, because you knew that you did, no matter how much you tried to squash the guilt.

"It wasn't your fault." He continued, pulling you into his lap and resting his chin on your head. "And I'm not mad at you, so stop the pouting... even though you look so fucking cute doing that, I don't want my baby feeling bad about something she didn't do, or caused." His fingers were stroking your bandages covering the cuts from the glass shards, it was feathery and uncharacteristically gentle.

Just with that, you broke down into tears. Sobbing and gasping for air, it felt like your mind was acting separate from your body; as you told yourself to stop whatever it was you were doing, but your mouth kept spewing quivery apologies to Cyprus. You gripped hard onto his shirt and cried, wetting the fabric and making it cling to his chiseled chest.

You felt vibrations as he chuckled at your involuntary reaction. "Aw, come on, doll. I already said I wasn't mad at you." You felt his lips curl up into a smile.

You hid your face and whimpered, embarrassed and still guilty over what had happened. Cyprus coaxed your arm away from your face, and you saw him smirking down at you with such amusement.

"Is my baby still guilty?" He cooed, "Oh, you're such a sweet, selfless, kind girl. You're paying a price that wasn't meant for you... what can I do to take your pretty little mind off what happened, mi cielo?" He teasingly pinched your cheek. You wanted to slap his hand away, but you're still quite upset.

"¿Quieres un beso, hm?" His Spanish rolled effortlessly from his tongue, perhaps it was too fast for you to catch, so you were momentarily distracted from your despair. "No, ¿quieres muchos besos, mi corazón?"

He grinned widely when he saw that you were slowly coming off that loop of self-pity.

You stared at him dumbfoundedly. "Say 'Sí'."

You entertained his request, only to be attacked by a flurry of kisses on your face. You kicked your legs in the air, but it was futile. It's not slowing him down.

Cyprus ended it with a long, passionate press on your lips. He has his eyes closed and you close yours too, as you allow the bliss of the moment to wash the unease away. He slipped his hand under your shirt, caressing your bare flesh as he enjoyed the warmth you shared with him.

However, he pulled away. Earlier than usual, but he cupped your cheeks and pressed his forehead against yours. "Don't you ever feel bad for that bitch. I don't want you to feel any of this was your fault. I don't want you to feel pity for her and I don't want you to feel pity for me." He murmured.

"I can take care of myself, and I sure as hell can take care of you." He paused momentarily to give you a quick and playful peck on the lips. "I love you, baby. I'm never letting you go, no matter what. I don't fucking care what I have to do, I'm never leaving you and I'll go through hell to keep you if I have to." Cyprus gave the shell of your ear a sensual nibble, sending jolts down your spine.

You stayed still as he showered you in love for a minute, slowly recovering from earlier events and absorbing his words.

"Te amo." He whispered before mischievously blowing hot air into your ear, making you jerk away and whine. This merely made him laugh at your flustered face. "There's my girl, my whiny, weepy, baby doll."

You complained, telling him not to do that. He ignored it and smiled wider.

"Te amo." Said Cyprus.

You asked what that meant.

"Hm? You have to be specific, Cariño." He brought your hand to his lips, grazing them against your knuckles. "I said many things in Spanish, I won't know which one you're referring to unless you specify."

Te amo, you wanted to know what that meant. So you repeated it in front of him. And at that moment, you felt a sense of deja vu, but you pushed it away.

He chuckled and ruffled your hair. "Ya sé que sí." Cyprus suddenly tickled you on your sides, making you involuntarily show him a smile and letting him hear the peal of laughter he had been craving all day.

Suddenly, he firmly but lovingly pushed you off his lap, onto the couch and got up, because the pot containing tonight's dinner was bubbling over. Cyprus left the stove on for too long, too busy consoling you in his own bastard way to realize that it's making a mess.

"Shit!" He cussed, the dish was ruined. Unsalvageable from its mangled corpse, there is no way he's going to eat it, let alone feed you.

Usually, something like this would stress him out to the point he would have a whole pack of cigarettes for dinner instead. But ever since he had you, Cyprus has learned to laugh it off. Because you just had that effect on him, that calming effect that no nicotine or drug could give. It's quite literally, addicting.

He dumps the pot into the sink with a face that's visibly uplifted, a major improvement from before. Cyprus turned around and opened a cabinet, he stared at the contents for a while before looking back at you.

"Shrimp, chicken, or beef?" He asked while presenting three packages of instant noodles with three different flavors.

#yandere male #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere #male yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x reader #tw yandere #yandere x you #yandere concept #oc cyprus #male yandere x reader #yandere x female reader #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #tw afab reader #tw fem reader #tw yandere content #tw infantilization

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whoreish-behaviour · 1 year ago

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Rain and Rooftops

Miguel O’hara x F!Reader

Enemies to lovers fluff ig and use of google translate (my Spanish grandparents are defo cussing me out) NO SPOILERS I think??

You could feel your body temperature slowly drop, bones threatening to rattle against your dimming soul as you stared out into the city below - cold and harsh wetness rapidly falling against your once warm cheeks.

The rain seemed to melt against you once it hit your cooling skin, the icy water running fast and unforgiving - turning everything so numb that you couldn't feel the warmth of your tears as they fell too - mixing and sloshing together.

You didn't bother to fix your lopsided bomber jacket, your ripped 'hero' costume exposing most of your upper-body and letting the rain lick away at the various cuts and soothe the bruises.

It was oddly comforting.

Averting your eyes, you trailed over the rapidly growing pool around you, smears of red becoming more and more prominent the more you let yourself sit.

You were too tired to move.

Too tired to fight.

Fiddling with the mask in your hand, you waited patiently - feeling yourself grow more limp as your decision sunk in, smiling fondly at the cloud of pride blooming in your chest at how long you had survived.

You were beginning to think he was going easy on you but today proved how grossly wrong your underestimation was.

'Estoy empezando a pensar que has olvidado cómo hablar Bandog.' You weakly joked, the nickname rolling off your tongue.

'I'm starting to think you've forgotten how to speak Bandog.'

His sigh from somewhere behind you made the smile on your lips deepen even more.

'Your nickname is stupid.'

If you had the energy to shrug you would've, probably even spit a few nasty remarks about how he fitted the description of a bandog more than the breed itself and then boom - make a hasty get-a-way by the skin of your teeth and find another temporary home to call yours until you were found again.

You didn't reply.

You didn't move a single muscle when the pool of rain around you reflected a different kind of red, more fluorescent and mixed with a equally bright blue.

His obnoxiously brilliant suit poked at the corner of your stare, almost demanding your attention as he kneeled next to you, another sigh interrupting the cool rain and the sound of your soulless breathing.

You ignored his stare.

'No smart remarks or new tricks to show off?' You could feel his stare analysing you - guessing your next move although all your chest pieces laid scattered across the board beaten.

Your obvious defeat was humiliating to say the least but you refused to admit it aloud.

Instead you just allowed yourself to crumble, mask slipping from your grip and landing with a splat and your cheeks growing warm once again as your tears caught up to the rain.

I give up, it was so easy to say but your lips remained sealed.

Miguel watched silently as you seemed to deteriorate right beside him, ears just waiting for the words to leave you but even he knew that despite how utterly defeated you looked, you'd never give him that much.

He'd wait anyways though, it just made this all that much easier.

'I told you that you couldn't just run away niña pequeña. So. Many. Times.'

And now you were hurt.

He evaded his stare when you refused to spare a glance his way, jaw set in a hard and unforgiving grind as the rain surrounding you both bounced directly off his suit and onto the roof below in wet sloshes.

Yours, or what was left of it, allowed the water in - welcoming it to rock your temperature to a point where you looked frozen over, body the most unmoving and still he’d ever seen it.

He had been chasing you for almost a year now, your weekly run in’s together always ending worse than the one before.

He finally had you.

Yet, he didn't budge from he was kneeled beside your form - something raw and stubborn in his gut telling him to just stay fucking put.

In his head he replayed the last half an hour in his head, over and over again - searching in his brain for the exact moment you were injured but coming up short.

Coming to the conclusion that it must've been one of the other five spider-folk who's mission was to bring you in, he furrowed his eyebrows and scowled deeply at the relief that it wasn't him.

'Idiota.' He muttered to himself lowly.

He felt his chin jutt instinctually forward in surprise when there was a sudden weight on his bicep, the coldness emitting from the touch so much that he could feel it seep through his suit.

His hair swayed slightly as he turned his head to look down at you, head resting against him and your chin tipped down so he was barley able to catch a glimpse of your soft features.

He watched silently, eyes darting to your chest to make sure it rose and fell as it should before back up to you.

However, you were slowly slumping further and further down - supple cheek that was once squished against him now sliding away.

His arm opposite you shot out to cup your jaw in his large hand, careful of his now retracting claws and tilting your head up to his view - thumb and index making your cheeks look chubby and plush like.

He scoffed but felt himself relax slightly, lips twitching ever so slightly at the corners.

He gazed at you for a moment, red eyes taking in every feature that he was never give the chance to properly even look at, your goal of wriggling out his grip every chance you got proving successful so far.

Releasing his hold on you - he allowed you to fall, gravity pulling your weight down before he caught you and scooped you up with now both his hands.

He averted his eyes as he stood, almost as if it was taboo to have your form smooched to his chest and dead to the world - however the only remotely ‘forbidden' thing happening was the spread of warmth in his chest.

He felt lighter somehow, his footsteps weightless as he effortlessly carried you.

Hands moving on muscle memory, he fiddled with his watch - your body still supported by his forearms as sudden sparks of light and rapidly moving swirls materialised in front of him.

Using the excuse of having to wait for the portal to finalise itself, he allowed himself an innocent and brief glance down at you - lips set in a pout and disturbed slightly from where you had nudged your way impossibly closer to him.

He was just checking for any more scrapes or bruises that was all-

'Woahh, you finally caught her?' Miguel snapped his red eyes to the sudden appearance of Jess, her sunglass covered gaze peering down at you curiously.

'Yes.' He deadpanned, rolling his eyes.

'Only took you a year, you wanna wake her up or.?'

He let a beat pass over then before he sidestepped her, mask replacing over his face as he did.

'She's fine where she is.'

Daydreamed this and I've never rushed back home so fast in my life

Kofi <3

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zepskies · 1 year ago

Note

Hey loved your Sam having a crush on Dean's gf! I was wondering if I could request the flipped version where Dean has a crush on Sam's gf 😏😏

Oh my God, hun! 🫢

The way I didn't even contemplate this!! But it's so delicious...

(And thank you for reading that Dean imagine! It was angsty, but oh so fun. 😘)

See this imagine for context: You are Dean's one exception.

Word Count: 1,300

Imagine: Dean gives you an impossible choice.

Dean hates this. He hates it more than anything.

He hates the look of you, all soft curves and smiles that brighten your eyes. Your hair looks even softer.

(He wants to tangle his fingers in it, tight, until your voice echoes in his ear.)

He hates that you bake cookies on Saturdays. (He also hates that you're learning how to make pies, just because he mentioned off-handedly that you should try. If your snickerdoodles are this good, he can only imagine what you could do with some cherry filling.)

He hates that you greet him, every morning, without fail, with a hand on his shoulder and asking how he's slept. (Even better if you'd joined me, he thinks.)

And then his mind gets truly creative, imagining all the ways he could make you lose sleep. All the ways his hands and tongue could get creative, tracing the contours of your body.

He hates all of that too.

But what he hates most of all?

That you're Sammy's girl.

Sam's known you longer, since college. The two of you reconnected after the second apocalypse diverted. Or was it the third one? Dean's lost count at this point.

So you're smart. Sam studied Latin, but you studied Greek and Spanish, and even symbology. You consider yourself a linguist -- a fact that had Dean grinning from the moment he met you...

But as many times as he made you blush and smile with his charm and a well-placed joke, it was Sam who hooked you with one of his dimpled smiles and asking you for help on a case.

You'd agreed, for him. The two of you bonded over your nerddom, with heads bowed over ancient texts and shared personal history, and Dean tried not to feel like an outsider.

And yet, even when you fell for his brother. Even when you moved into the bunker, taking up his counter space with your ridiculous baking appliances. Even when you doted and touched and kissed and promised Sam more with your eyes, Dean couldn't shake the feeling that he'd missed his chance.

So Dean backed off. He made excuses not to be around you and Sam when it got too much for him. Had to ignore the way his stomach churned (and maybe his heart clenched too).

...Until his chance comes. He sees it.

He's also a bit drunk.

"Aw, Dean. You okay?" you ask, picking up a large, empty bottle of whiskey by his hand, which still holds a fifth of a glass.

"Oh, I'm good," he replies, raising his brows with a smile. "I'm real good."

You snort with a laugh. He smirks at the sound; he would never admit it, but a small part inside him always swells with warmth when he makes you laugh.

You bring him a glass of water with just a few cubes of ice. You know he doesn't like it packed to the top. "Drink this."

"What's the magic word?" Dean teases, even as you take the glass tumbler out of his hand.

You then sit next to him at the kitchen table and offer him a wry smile, resting your chin in your hand while your elbow rests on the table. "Please, will you hydrate yourself?"

"Already did," Dean remarks.

"Dean," you say, more seriously gesturing to the water. "Please."

He hesitates. But seeing your face, he finally rolls his eyes and dutifully sips at the tall glass of water.

You reach out for his shoulder. His inebriated gaze is drawn to your hand, the smooth skin of your arm, and back to your face that shows soft concern.

"You don't drink like this unless something's on your mind," you say.

Dean falters. When did you get to know him so well?

"What, a man can't drink alone anymore?" he says wryly.

"He can, but he's gonna have to spill his guts sooner or later," you smirk. Dean grimaces at the image. Suddenly the Jameson sloshing around in his gut doesn't feel all that nice. But the longer he looks at you, the worse he feels.

"Trust me, you don't wanna know," he says. He gestures, with the hand that holds his glass, up at his head. "'S not for newcomers."

"Yeah, but I'm not a newcomer, am I?" you quip.

Dean can't help it. He stares at your face. Your damn perfect face. Perfect for him.

His heart clenches with the pain of guilt. With thoughts he shouldn't have. How he'd rather slit his own wrists than hurt his little brother. Not like this, for fuck's sake.

But Dean's got a problem. It's eating him down to the bone.

He wants you. He really wants you. More than he's wanted anything in so long...

"You really wanna know?" Dean asks. His voice is both a rumble and a coarse whisper. His green-eyed gaze falls to your lips.

For your part, you suck in a subtle breath. Your eyes widen, and your body's frozen, suspended in time.

You stare back at Dean's handsome face, overgrown with stubble, like he’s forgotten to shave. And you finally know what he's been hiding for the past few months. Why he sometimes ducks out when it's supposed to be the three of you, hanging out, watching a movie, sharing a pizza, being friends and family all at once.

You sometimes thought Dean had something against you, no matter how many times Sam has said, "That's not it." With one of those pensive looks on his face.

Like he knows something you don't, and just doesn't want to speak it into existence.

But then, Sam would distract you with his hand stroking your cheek. A kiss to your lips, sweet, but with urgency. You like that about Sam. You even love that about him -- how he can be both kind and considerate, but passionate in his affections.

But now, you stare at the eldest Winchester's face. You don't even know what you're thinking.

Dean sees you fidget, and has a feeling that you’re blushing.

He leans in, slowly. He’s mere inches away from finding out how sweet you really are.

He hears your shallow breath. His eyes flick up to yours, briefly capturing you again. You smell whiskey on him, but it doesn't completely drown out his cologne. His Deanness.

You can feel your face heating up further, down to your neck. What the fuck is happening right now?

"Tell me no," Dean says. Tell me to stop, or I swear to God...

"Dean, what..." you whisper. But that's not a no.

Still, he can't. He just can't do it. Not to Sam.

Dean just reaches out with a hand to soothe a gentle thumb across your cheek. He realizes then that he loves you. He loves you enough to let you go, if he has to.

"It comes down to this," Dean says. His voice is deep, full of grit and desire. You can see it in his eyes. He sees the conflict in yours.

He swallows. His heart is pounding against his ribcage, but he uses every ounce of self-restraint he has left, forcing his hand to fall away from your cheek.

"You've got two choices, sweetheart," he says. And he pulls away, leaving you there at the table.

Dean doesn't know it, but your heart is about to burst just like his. What the hell! How could he do that? Why...

But you realize then, holding a hand to your wildly beating, guilt-ridden, confused heart.

You never told him no.

AN: I love Sam, don't get me wrong. But because I'm unequivocally a Dean girl, I had to leave it a bit ambiguous. 😏

Read the Sequel!

Here's the requested sequel to this, in which you have to make a choice (contains both Sam and Dean endings):

Imagine: Choosing him.

Dean Winchester Imagines

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

DW Tag List:

@hobby27 @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesdeanvessel @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @emily-winchester @deans-baby-momma @melancholictearz @luvs4dria @nic-kolas @katherineann83 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @tipthejar @ajjustice @thewritersaddictions @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @adoringanakin

@theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @mrshalverson2021 @iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem @waters-2567 @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @beskarfilms @skyesthebomb @deans-spinster-witch @tmb510 @iamsapphine @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @chernayawidow @syrma-sensei @fabimaou @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373

#ask me stuff #dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean gives you an impossible choice #dean in love with sams girlfriend #unrequited love?#sam winchester imagine #sam winchester #sam and dean #angst #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fic #spn #supernatural #zepskies answers

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ellecdc · 9 months ago

Text

The Drink Snob (part 3)

mafia au!Remus Lupin x fem!reader - 3.1k

p1 // p2 // p3 // p4

CW: attempted drink tampering, attempted human trafficking, a lot of swearing because it's Remus and reader (obviously)

Synopsis: You take Elle's advice, Remus returns the favour.

You waited at the end of the counter for your mocha to be called through the café. You were feeling pretty good about yourself; you had an interview lined up at a nice restaurant at the end of this week, you’d guest lectured for Minerva and got great feedback from both her and the students, and you’d found time to facetime Elle twice more.

The café was fairly busy with a fair number of students trying to get their caffeine fix between classes. The barista apologized to you for the wait, but you waved him off; “I’m not in any rush right now, take your time.” You had said to him.

“That was quite polite of you.” A voice to your right commented.

You turned and raised your eyebrow at the dark-haired man. His hair was an array of curls pulled back into a low bun, and he kept his onyx gaze fixed on you.

“And that surprises you?”

He smirked at you. “From a yank? I’d have to say a little.”

“Right,” You scoffed, “I’m not American.”

He looked at you strangely at that. “You sound like an American.”

“Maybe I’m just practicing for a part.” You shot back.

He hummed in response. “A budding actress, hm?”

Before you could respond, your name was called at the counter.

“Peppermint mocha for Y/N!”

You picked up your cup and turned back to the man. “As nice as this was, I have to take my leave.”

“Come to dinner with me.” He interjected quickly. You stared at him incredulously.

“I’m sorry?”

“Come on, I want to hear more about this budding acting career of yours.” He said as he winked.

Your immediate thought was hell no. But then you thought of The Man ™ from the pub last week, and how surprising and nice it was to finally connect with someone. Wasn’t this exactly what Elle was saying you should be doing? It went against every part of your better judgement, but this opportunity had been placed in front of you twice, were you really in any position to ignore it?

“What’s your name?” You asked. You were met with a victorious smile.

“Tan.”

You considered him for a moment.

“Fine, one dinner.”

He clapped his hands together. “Wonderful, how about tonight? There’s a Spanish fusion restaurant that just opened downtown that I’ve been dying to try. I could pick you up. Say 7?”

You looked the man up and down; you may be stepping out of your comfort zone agreeing to a date with a stranger you met at a coffee shop, but you weren’t suicidal.

“I’ll meet you there.” You offered. Tan seemed to deflate a little, but the emotion passed quickly over his face.

He gave you the address and then actually kissed you on the hand before you turned and exited the café.

Were all Brit’s this bold? Was this just an English thing? You walked back to the faculty building hoping this was a meet cute opportunity you could tell Elle about.

“It’s kinda smart, really.” James commented, taking another drink from his water.

“What is?” Remus asked, not looking up from the salad he was pushing around on the plate in front of him.

“Scouting near the universities.”

Remus looked up at his mate then, his black hair as wild as ever as he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. His knee was bouncing under the table, and Remus knew he was just trying to make conversation while they waited for Lestrange to make his appearance, but James could be so thick sometimes.

“Yes, James. It’s almost as if the traffickers have a method that they follow to find young women they can pick up.” Remus muttered quietly, finally shifting his gaze up to the door.

“Sorry.” James muttered as he ran his hand through his hair again. “I just hate waiting.”

Remus chuckled. “I can tell.”

James made it through at least a minute and a half of silence before Remus finally took pity on him. “Harry’s so close to walking now, eh?”

James’ face lit up as he began a long tangent of his son’s different methods of movement which ranged from scooting, crawling, shifting, and rolling. “And Moony, yesterday he stood at the coffee table and walked around it all by himself! He was holding the coffee table, but still!”

Remus smiled at his friend’s happiness just as he noticed their target entering the building.

“He’s here.” Remus muttered into his collar which hid his speak piece.

“Greasy bastard, how do they manage to look creepier and creepier every time I see them?” Sirius muttered darkly into Remus and James’ earpiece from his car parked out front.

Sirius hated not being able to join on some stakeouts on account of his family. For example, Rabastan Lestrange is technically related to Sirius through marriage as he is the brother-in-law of Sirius’ first cousin Bellatrix. Sirius and Bellatrix, both Black’s by birthright, and the Lestrange’s have historically held ties to the mob boss Tom Riddle who had his followers call him Lord Voldemort. Pretentious fucks at best, but at worst they were prejuidiced, racist, bigots who were involved in human trafficking, which meant it was very important that they get caught and stopped, not the other way around. Which meant Sirius had to play back-up.

Remus was fine with that. James could be a little annoying on account of his ADHD, but he’d take that over Sirius’ inner rage any day.

Remus got it, he really did; Sirius had been surrounded by this his whole life – born and raised to carry on the Black line of arseholes, and he’s seen things many people haven’t. His family was awful and what these women and children went through at their hands was horrible, but being hot-headed in the field didn’t save them.

Remus figured Sirius would probably make a good police officer if they weren’t so corrupt, though he would struggle playing by the rules.

Maybe in another life.

“He’s got a seat in the far left. It’s secluded and near an emergency exit. Reg, are you able to get eyes back there without being caught?” James asked into his own speak piece.

“On it.” Was Reg’s response.

Remus watched the door as James watched Rabastan. People came and went but James never mentioned a change in our target, so Remus disregarded them.

Suddenly, Remus’ breath caught in his throat. No. Not her.

“We should try the croquettes.” James said - their code.

No.

“No.”

James looked up at Remus. “What?”

“It’s...” Remus started, but he didn’t know how to finish. James kept his eyes on Rabastan as you walked past Remus’ line of sight.

“Wait, is that-” James started but they were interrupted by Regulus.

“I’ve got eyes on the emergency exit.”

“Copy.” James muttered and looked back to Remus. “What is it?”

“What’s going on?” Sirius interjected in their earpieces.

“Is that the girl?” James whispered to him, causing Remus to scrunch his eyes shut.

“Wait, what?” Reg called.

James sighed. “Remus’ girl from The Drunken Sailor, it’s her.”

“Wait.” Sirius yelled causing both men to wince. “The girl Rabastan is meeting, it’s Remus’ girl?”

“She’s not my girl.”

Sirius called out the wrong name. “Right?” Sirius carried on over top of Remus.

“Y/N.” Remus corrected.

“Oh my God,” James said wide eyed at him. “You’ve got it bad.”

“I do not.” Remus started before changing gears, “fuck off, Prongs. Now is not the time. We’ve got to get her out of here.”

“Easy, Remus.” Regulus encouraged him quietly.

“Tell us how you want to go about this.” James added.

Both Black brothers shouted a what over the earpieces.

“The plan stays the same, Prongs. Same as it always is – get her out.” Sirius barked.

“No, Padfoot. This has taken on a new element. If Remus isn’t careful, he could be accused of nefarious actions himself. She’s scheduled for an interview at the restaurant in a few days.” James chided. “It’s your call.” He said to Remus.

She wasn’t supposed to get caught up in this.

She was supposed to go back to school and stay away from dingy bars – and dingy men. She was so clever; how could she have gotten swept up with Rabastan?

No.

Don’t be an arse, Remus.

These men were smart. They knew how to come off completely charming, and targeted women, well, women exactly like her.

She was a student, she was foreign, and she was probably alone when he approached her. She was their perfect target.

Remus just hoped she had kept her wits about her; she had noticed so quickly that his drink had been tampered with, hopefully she’d be just as alert tonight. Remus knew from the staff at the café that she had declined his invitation to pick her up, hopefully she didn’t give him her number, either.

“Do you want me to swap, Remus?” Regulus queried over our earpiece.

Did Remus want him to swap?

What did Remus want?

Remus kind of wanted to be the one to be sitting over there with you.

He turned to look at your table to see you place your jacket on the hook of the booth beside you. As your head was turned, Rabastan’s hand hovered over your glass of water which began to fizz.

“Moons?” James asked quietly again.

But before Remus could respond, you looked back up and your gaze found him. Your eyes and nose scrunched a little as you considered him as if you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. You finally shook your head slightly and offered Remus a small smile before turning back to Rabastan.

Well, you knew Remus was here now.

So much for keeping her out of this.

“Now.” Remus said as he stood from his place at the table.

The world had to be fucking with you at this point, right? You weren’t actually seeing The Man™? He must just be a figment of your imagination?

Apparently, he was not just a figment of your imagination because he was suddenly standing at the end of your table as if he was about to take your order.

“We really must stop meeting each other like this.” He said with a smirk.

You chuckled nervously as you stared at his beautiful face. “Uhm, yeah. Haha. What are the odds?”

“Uhm, do you mind?” Tan said as he considered The Man ™ and you with furrowed brows.

“I do, actually.” He said severely, before a second man with a mop of curly black hair sidled up behind him looking far more pleased than his counterpart.

“Rabastan, my man, it’s been too long.” He said entirely too loudly. You felt your cheeks heat up as you offered the people around you a nervous smile.

Tan seemed to pale at the sight of the newcomer. Suddenly, his glass of water was turned over in front of him as he scrambled to stand. Before Tan could get anywhere, the curly headed man embraced him in an aggressive looking hug that involved an arm around his neck.

“You bastard, I can’t believe we let it go this long without catching up. Why don’t we have a little family reunion, hm? I know some cousins of yours who are just dying to see how you are.” He announced to the entire restaurant as he man-handled Tan to the emergency exit behind your booth.

You watched with your mouth hanging open as the door closed behind them and the restaurant returned to its appropriate volume.

You turned your head towards The Man ™ as he slid into the booth Tan had just been dragged out of for all intents and purposes.

“What?” was all you could manage to mutter.

“Don’t drink your water” was his response.

You looked down to see the table – now pooled with Tan’s water – and sat there in front of you was your water with a filmy layer on top.

“What the fuck just happened?” you muttered more to yourself than anything.

“I returned the favour.” The Man™ replied with a shrug as he mopped up the water on the table that was starting to spill onto the bench of the booth you were seated on.

“What? Were you following me around waiting for some guy to drug me?” You asked incredulously.

“Relax, sweetheart. It’s not that deep.”

You scoffed in outrage. “Do not tell me to relax you fucker, I was nearly drugged, and lord knows what else.”

“I know exactly what else.” The man snarked back. “He would have brought you out to a van that his buddies would have pulled up upon his command, they would have dumped your purse and all of your belongings in the dumpster behind some business a few blocks away, flown you to Portugal and sold you to the highest bidder, and that’s ignoring everything that would have happened in between. I can assure you, darling, that there was only one fucker here and he was just dragged away by my mate there. So please for all that is holy, relax.” He pressed the end of his sentence as he dumped your glass over as well just as a server came by.

“Oh, let me clean this up for you!” The server exclaimed at the mess just as The Man apologized in faux embarrassment. “I’ll get you two new glasses. Have you had a chance to look at the menu?”

Completely stunned, you decided to field the question to the infuriating man across from you who, fucking damnit, looked just as handsome as the first time you’d seen him.

“Just the waters for now, thank you.” He said with a smile which flashed his dimples, the bastard.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly which was in stark contrast from his demeanor before the server came.

“I’m fine.” You muttered probably more aggressively than you should have. “Fuck, I’m going to kill her.” You growled as you leaned your elbows onto the table and shoved your face into your hands.

“Who’s that now?”

You groaned, hands still covering your face. “My friend, the bitch. This is all her fault.”

“How so?”

“This was her idea! Going out with him, I mean.” You answered miserably as you leaned back against the booth and crossed your arms.

“Your friend knew that guy?” He asked somewhat alarmed.

You snorted a laugh. “No. She just thought I should get out more. Was so worried about me being all sad and lonely in this new city. This’ll teach her.” You muttered as you picked imaginary lint from your skirt.

The man was mirroring you; leaning against the back of his booth with his arms crossed as he seemed to consider you.

“Is that why you started handing out your CV?”

You felt your eyebrows furrow. “My what?”

The man dramatically rolled his eyes. “Oh, my apologies. I meant your resume.”

You nodded your head in understanding before slamming your hand down on the still damp table. “How do you know I’ve been handing out resumes? Are you actually stalking me?”

“No, even your luck doesn’t seem to be that bad. Though, being nearly drugged twice is not a good track record.”

“If I’m remembering correctly, you were the one nearly drugged last time.”

The man smiled at you and something about it felt far softer than you felt the moment called for. “You applied at my mum’s restaurant – the one on 72nd. She was going on about finally having live music in the joint; I saw your CV.”

“I didn’t apply as a musician.” You shouted somewhat panickily. You cleared your throat before correcting yourself. “I mean, I just...I was just looking for a job as a server.”

He squinted his eyes at you before responding. “Well, good luck trying to say no to my mum.”

“What are the chances of me getting drugged if I work at your mum’s restaurant?”

This surprised a bark of laugh from him. “Actually, your chances would be quite a bit lower.”

“I don’t know...” you said suspiciously. “Every time I’ve been with you, drinks have been drugged.”

He hummed as he squinted his eyes. “Hazard of the trade.”

“And what trade is that?”

“Crime.” He said simply. You chuckled, but as you looked back up at the man, you noticed he wasn’t laughing.

“Oh, you’re serious?” You commented.

The corner of his mouth seemed to quirk at your word choice, but he offered you one quick nod.

“But...you’re the kind of criminal to have your drinks drugged and to stop other people from getting drugged?”

He moved his head side-to-side as if to say sort of.

“And you’re telling me this...because?”

“Because” he said as he seemed to square himself, “you ought to know that before you accept the position.”

The Man stood and left some bills on the table. “Are you safe to get home on your own?”

Still reeling from this whole ordeal, you nodded dumbly at him. He offered you a soft smile.

“Take it easy, Y/N.” He said as he left through the emergency exit.

It was only at his use of your name that you realized you still haven't caught his.

Remus was kicking himself. He should have just asked if you were okay and went about business as usual. He shouldn’t have sat with you, he shouldn’t have confessed about his mother’s restaurant, and he definitely shouldn’t have told you about the nature of his career. But he couldn’t let you walk into that interview without knowing what you were potentially getting yourself into.

And what would have happened if you had taken the job and then seen him there? Then you really would have suspected him of stalking.

Well, Remus has technically stalked before, but not in like a stalkery way, you know? It was like...

It was surveillance!

Fuck, he was grasping at straws.

It just seemed like the world was hell bent on shoving you in Remus’ path. And when Remus first met you – he was insistent on keeping you away from him, from this.

But you just had to drop your resume off at his family’s restaurant.

And you just had to get picked up by a human trafficking sociopath.

So, if you were going to insist on walking this dangerous line Remus calls life, you might as well know where the line is.

He didn’t know what he was more worried about: that you’d take his warning or that you wouldn’t.

Continue to part four here.

#marauders era #marauders au #reader insert #marauders fanfiction #marauders x reader #remus lupin x reader #self insert #remus lupin x you #remus lupin #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin fanfiction #background jegulily #Sirius black being a little shit #mafia au #remus x reader #remus lupin fic

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sleepisoverrated · 9 months ago

Text

My headcanons about Dick Grayson

Dick Grayson is smart.

Like I hate it when they make him a dumb bimbo, he's hot yes he knows it, but he also has been hacking into the Pentagon for fun since he was ten, survived Spyral and several almost apocalypses. I know it's cannon since no Bat is dumb, but some fics, SOME FICS, make him look like he never went to school.

Dick Grayson knows so many languages.

I assume due to the fact that he grew up in a traveling circus he already knew a lot of languages(even if his english was bad when his parents died), but due to being robin and Bruce Wayne's ward he learned basically all major languages on Earth( and some alien) like Romani, German, French, Russian, English, Italian, Greek, Spanish, Irish, Finish, Japanese, Mandarin, Cantonese, Indian, Latin, backwards speech(Zatara), Tamoranian(i think that's how you spell it), Kryptonian, speedster(when speedsters talk super fast) and so on.

Dick Grayson has at least some immunity against Fear toxin(Ft), Joker venom(Jv).

And most of the other poisons due to constant exposure since he was 9, also when he was younger there were no antidotes for Ft and Jv so he learned how to ride them out without a sound. (You can't tell me it hasn't fucked him up somehow, like a 9 y/o being constantly exposed to these things HAS to have some consequences and while he has his immunity I also think he has extreme anxiety( like all the bats a.k.a. Bat paranoia) and constant panic attacks(next headcanon))

Dick Grayson is a master at controlling his body.

Besides the fact that he probably learned acrobatics before he could walk and was a stage performer(always smiled even if the performance got off the rails) I also think he has taught himself complete control of his body due to far too many close calls. He learned to control each muscle individually for combat under high-stress situations(where he most needs that control). This had a side effect of him being able to control his face muscle/expressions and body language. He became the best actor there will ever be, because he can keep a smile on his face even if he is in excruciating pain, he can look completely calm and relaxed even though he is having a panic attack and the opposite is true as well he can look completely terrified even though he is amused. Because of this you need to know him extremely well to tell if he's in distress(the only people so far are Alfred, Damian and Slade(he's obsessed))

Anyway if you want more of the headcanon's just say, Nightwing is one of my favourite characters I can rant about him much longer.

#dick grayson #batman #nightwing #robin #dc headcanon #nightwing headcanon #dc fandome #dcu #dc comics #dc universe #dc fanon

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spdrvyn · 1 year ago

Note

a Miguel x f!reader "who did this to you?" Angst fic?

bewitched by bandages — MIGUEL O'HARA

SUMMARY: as per usual, you were spending your late-nights fighting crime and trying to protect the city to the best of your ability. as you are in the midst of a strenuous battle, you're sucked into a portal which brings you to what you assume to be another dimension.

THIS FIC CONTAINS: violence. harassment. somewhat detailed descriptions of wounds. angst. hurt/comfort. translated spanish (i didn't use google translate). f!reader

NOTES: GOD I LOVE THIS TROPE SO MUCH HOLY SHIT thank you anon for sending me this ask i was gonna do this kind of thing w miguel eventually but like still mwah, sorry for being ia too btw... i'm trying to avoid getting burnt out n shit so that i keep writing stuff for you guys 🫶 anyway, ENJOOOY

"You will never be apart of this."

Those were the last words uttered to you before proclaimed protector of the multiverse, Miguel O'Hara, disappeared into the portal possibly never to be seen again.

He thought so too. At least, until he came back a week later due to yet another anomaly showing up in your dimension. Then another, then another, then another.

Humiliating was an understatement. What kind of Spider-Woman were you if you couldn't even take down one anomaly? Every time trouble came, Miguel was there to fix it. For once, you wanted to be the one to catch the beast. Hold it's severed head up to him with a big, fat smile on your face.

But that was a distant dream, only to be seen after you collapse onto your bed after an exhausting day.

You felt even more hurt when you found out that he was the leader of some kind of Spider Society. Yet, as he said when he first met you, you just weren't capable enough to join it.

Granted, he explained that it was an elite strike force but still. You were proud of yourself for making it this far into the whole Spider-woman gig, turns out that the bar was higher than you thought it was. It saddened you, deeply.

Though with time comes change. You've honed your skills and now confident enough to laugh in the face of who you were months ago, if an anomaly ever showed up again you'd show Miguel who's boss (not literally) and finally be able to join that god forsaken society.

You were much more confident in battle, actually much more confident in general. It was like you were an entirely different person to the criminals that you cowered before at night and the other more important people in your life at day.

However, there were moments where that confidence faltered.

Moments where you felt like that terrified, shameful, and naive little spider that you were mere months ago. A moment like now as you were being absolutely destroyed by one of your regular enemies.

You didn't know his name, you didn't want to bother trying to know anyway. He was the type of villain to give those excruciatingly long monologues that only dragged more and more time out of your excruciatingly long nights. So you just called him tech guy.

He is exactly what he sounds like. Covered from almost head-to-toe with different kinds of technologically advanced weaponry that made you wonder if he'd work as an appliance in a smart home.

Even when you enjoyed poking fun at the multiple devices stuck to his body, he didn't. Continuing to upgrade himself more and more each time the both of you fought. You had a feeling in your gut that your devilishly charming personality would come back to bite you in the ass someday.

He had you under the heel of his boot, quite literally this time. You bite back a grunt as his shoe continues to press into you, barely being able to look back up, you can see the absolutely smug grin on his face.

"I warned you, Spider-Woman. If only you listened to me, you would've seen this coming from miles away!"

"I'm here to—" You want to bury your face into the pavement as you can feel something sharp pierce the small of your back. "Fight bad guys not listen to lectures!"

"And look at where not listening has gotten you, little spider." Tech guy chuckled, uncomfortably close to your ear. You try to pull away but he has you pinned and he's close, too close. You swore from the corner of your eye that he had his hand raised. About to strike.

This was it, he was going to knock you out. Take you back to who knows where. Or maybe even kill you right here and right now. Leaving your corpse on the street for the citizens of New York, the citizens that you swore you'd protect to be mortified by.

You were finished, your end had come. It terrified you, if people saw your fate, who would do this job? Who would be able to gain the courage to step up? Even after knowing the dangers that lurk and entail it?

Dangers such as a portal opening up on the floor beneath you, it was blinding as you squint and your senses are immediately flooded by what feels like everything.

It's like a strong gust of wind swoops you away, the distant yells of tech guy growing quieter and quieter.

This relieved you but pained you.

As you were being blissfully carried away from whatever force was helping you right now, it put a lot of pressure on the injuries that have sustained from that scuffle.

You tried to scream, yell, shout for anyone in this space but nothing. You curl up into a ball, in attempts for it stop and hope that your next destination is the sensation of nothingness.

It was like you were being torn apart then put back together. Shifting from each form. Solid, liquid, gas, solid, liquid, gas, solid liquid, gas, solid rooftop.

What?

You groaned, looking up at the night sky of whatever hell you just landed in. You tried to sit up and you were able to! But with a now bleeding lip in attempts to muffle the absolutely bloodcurdling scream that you were about to let out.

Wherever you were, it wasn't hell (thankfully) but it definitely wasn't New York. At least not your New York.

Everything was strangely futuristic. Flying cars, sleek architecture, a lot of grass to your surprise, and beautiful lights that finished the beautiful view off.

The rooftop that you had landed on was no different either, whoever owned this place had a spectacular taste in furniture and it showed here. As you looked to your side, it seemed that it also connected to a bedroom. An empty bedroom.

God, you were going to feel so guilty about this later.

Fighting back yet another pained noise from coming out of your mouth, you manage to build the strength to get up on your two feet and stumble towards the entrance.

You take your slow strides and get to observe the room in the process, it was very spacious. A huge monitor hanging on one wall, a huge closet on the other side, not to mention that it has a bathroom attached, what would it be without a huge bed in the middle of it all?

To your dismay, you're only able to make it a few steps in before needing to grip the bedsheets for dear life.

The dear life that you might lose when you hear the muted sounds of someone talking from outside.

You're not really able to make any words out but it sounded like whoever they were, they yelled out to someone. Suddenly, she appeared in front of you.

A lady, dressed in a somewhat lengthy but quite fashionable fur coat, she adorned a pair of heart shaped sunglasses as she looked at the TV in the room with a puzzled look on her face.

It's not long before she catches sight of you, eyes widening and both of you exchange glances. You bring your index finger to your mouth in a placating gesture but it only gets worse as she calls out:

"... Miguuueeeeel!"

Miguel? Miguel?

Frantically, you wave your hands around in an attempts to shush her but your heart rate spikes as her body practically phases through you. Hologram. You were throwing hands with a hologram.

And it's like the whole world stops when the bedroom door slides open, your worst fears had come true.

There he stood. Miguel O'Hara. Although something felt different, and you realized that his mask was off. The first thing that came to mind was the unamused pout that he wore, eyes that stared down at you disappointedly, and a broad frame that took up nearly the entire doorway.

The silence was deafening, you could hear it ringing in your ears. So deafening that you could hear your heart drumming in your chest, your shallow breaths, his footfalls as he walked over to you. Before turning his head to his hologram lady.

"Lyla, scan this." Lyla nodded before looking you up and down, wherever her eyes followed it scanned. She turns back to Miguel with the prognosis on your injuries. "Fifteen scratches, ten bruises, and a slightly fractured rib."

The noise that Miguel let out irked you a little, you could feel how heavy it was as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I have a lot of articles that could help with fixing this mess, big guy."

"No, it's fine. I can deal with this myself,"

"If you say so."

Lyla seemingly poofs into thin air, leaving you alone with him and a whole lot of questions that you have to ask. Even then, even if you were the one technically intruding in his home, you couldn't break the silence. Where to even start?

"Who did this to you?" Well, okay. That was a start. You tried to open your mouth to even get a small explanation out but as you attempted to piece your thoughts together, the more it felt like your brain fogged up.

Miguel had unfortunately noticed this too, what a way to make an impression after weeks of not seeing each other. "Just sit down." You obviously complied, careful not to let any blood drip down onto his sheets, you hoped that you wouldn't embarrass yourself further.

Those months of training, those months of self-improvement, those months of trying to be better all shattered within an instant as you saw Miguel rummage through his closet, cursing under his breath until he emerged with a first aid kit.

It felt so hard to think about anything and everything. Well, not really. There were a million thoughts racing through your head right now, most of them being what exactly was going through Miguel's head.

Was he disappointed? It would be a lot more unlikely if he wasn't if you were completely honest. Was he upset? If you saw someone you didn't hold in a high regard just magically appear on the roof of your home all beat up, you wouldn't be the happiest in the world.

There wasn't even a single peep out of him as he opened the small kit, equipping himself with what looked to be a medical cream and rolls of bandages. You spared him just a small glance, you were expecting him to look you dead in the eye with nothing but pure unbridled rage for ruining his night but instead?

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

He was laser focused on treating you right now or what you had thought to be a more plausible situation: he was just too disheartened to even look at you.

And you completely understood why, therefore ripping your gaze away from his eyes and moving down to his hands instead. You watched intently as the part around his hands dissolved into mere pixels before he swiped up a good amount of the cream onto his fingers, then gestured for you to hold your arm out.

Once the medicine came into contact with your wounds, tears dared to prick at your eyes. Fuck, it hurt a lot but you didn't really need to ruin his impression of you any further. You resorted to biting down hard on your lip and turning your head away.

Miguel, being the ever observant one, noticed this as well.

"You owe me an explanation." He was right. You did. You were quite confident that if you stayed radio silent for the rest of the night, you would be sleeping on the cold, cold streets of this world. "I've surmised that you got sucked into a portal then ended up here but most don't end up with injuries this bad."

There goes a good chunk of your explanation, which played well on your end. You didn't even want to begin describing what being transported from dimension to dimension felt like. Still, you wanted to play this cool.

"I was just in a fight, it was nothing serious."

"Nothing serious? Did you hear the results of that scan?"

You can't help how your cheeks flush at his quip, perhaps you were playing it too cool. If you tried too hard, he'd probably be able to see right through you but before you could even attempt defending yourself, he butts in.

"Qué dolor de cabeza." You heard him mutter. "I need more details about this, how many people were in the fight? What were they like? I'm not a mind reader."

His tone was harsh, it felt like he was cutting your scars open rather than healing them. You semi-understood why he was a leader, he had a way of making demands that was for sure.

"It was just one guy, but he had a lot of mechanical attachments. Saws, tentacles, other blades." As you explained, Miguel finished up bandaging your arm and gestured for your other one. You shifted slightly in position and held that up as well, sucking in a sharp breath as he goes through the routine of applying the disinfectant.

He seemed to just hum at your answer like he wasn't relentlessly asking you questions moments ago, you assumed that he wanted to hear more information so you kept talking. Like an idiot.

"I'm not the biggest tech person, you know? I was just swinging through and then he ambushed me, every time I've encountered him, he just continued to get stronger and stronger."

"Every time? How many times exactly?"

He emphasized 'exactly' as if you were actually supposed to count but even if you presented those kinds of details with a whole ass statistic chart, the answer would still disappoint him.

"Probably more than five. Like I said, he upgrades and–"

"Yes, yes. You said that already." He interrupts you again, hurriedly finishing up your arm before he rolls up the bandages; throwing them back into the aid kit with a very audible thud.

If there was another talent of his, it would be how very quickly he's able to shatter your pride.

"What are you trying to do here?" He asks you. You know you shouldn't be asking questions at risk of making yourself look even more stupid but with how vague that was, it felt like you had the right to. "What are you talking about?"

"You're trying to impress me. I'm asking you this stuff to know more about the nature of your injuries and you're trying to goddamn impress me. Why?"

Oh.

Clearly, since it felt like he knew so much more about you, you just looked at him. How could this possibly get any worse after all? No matter what you said, no matter how hard you tried, it would all be for naught in the end.

"If this is about what I said when we first met, these antics of yours seriously aren't helping your case." Your body went numb. "Then, after I clear all the anomalies in your dimension, you come flying back to me. Seriously?"

Your mind went numb.

This felt like more than just a reality check to you, no. Every single criticism that shot back at you continued to break you down into smaller, smaller pieces.

You dreamt about meeting him again someday, and it did not look like this in the slightest. Only now, if you thought about what that scenario would be like, you'd conk yourself in the head for being so fucking delusional.

The distant dream of him entering your dimension, to see an anomaly in your capable hands, to hear that gravelly voice that has only continued to criticize you praise you for your deeds, then you'd get recruited into the Spider Society and save the multiverse to your heart's content.

Oh, how dumb and naïve you were. Clearly, you still are both of those things. His words spoke enough about that. You didn't want to be here as much as he did.

"I didn't want this," You finally said, the most coherent thought throughout this whole mess. "Any of this to happen. I just– I don't get it at all."

"Don't get what?"

"What I'm doing wrong," You sigh, lip quivering as tears dared to fall. This time, it wasn't because of medicine. You hoped it was. "I've trained for so long, I've tried my hardest. You might not think so but I have, I really have. But it seems like I'm making a mess of it all."

With each second that passed, the dam dared to break.

An uncomfortable silence blanketed the room, but this one scared you even more. A while ago, even if he didn't say a word, you knew how he felt about you. About your predicament.

But now? You had no clue. He could embrace you, comfort you, tell you that it's okay and he understood how you felt. You could've pushed his temper to his limits, he would scream, shout, yell, and kick you out of his penthouse.

"This doesn't have anything to do with your training," Like that, Miguel took a sharp pin to the atmosphere and popped it. "It has something to do with your mindset."

Now, you were the one to give him a confused glare. He sighs, eyes scanning over your sorry state once more,

"You did this, all this, to get into my strike force and to woo me whatnot." Before looking back up at you. Don't be mistaken, the harshness in his face is still there but from what he was saying, it didn't seem to be what you had originally thought.

"The reason why you're so stuck is because I shouldn't be the first goal in your mind, you should. Are you following?" You nod.

"Good. You need to understand, this job isn't about trying to meet a standard or getting someone to notice you. Self-improvement. It's all in the title. Self-improvement."

You shiver as his warm hand rests on your shoulder. "If you're already this hung up on trying to win me over, take a step back and think about who's approval matters more. Yours or mine?"

Yours.

It clicked. Everything fit into place and the dam broke, though that should have been more obvious to you when Miguel's face had started to look a little foggier.

At first, you had expected him to hand you a tissue or something but he didn't move from his place. Instead, resorting to rubbing his hand up and down your shoulder in a weird, seemingly unfitting gesture.

You swiftly wiped your tears away with your palm, stifling a sniffle as you ask yet another question.

"So, do you think I'll have a chance of getting in someday?"

A snarkly reply or scoff was what you had anticipated but what he just did was probably the most shocking turn of events looking back at the whole night.

He chuckled.

"I'll keep you in touch."

request rules here, masterlist here

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leoascendente · 10 months ago

Text

PAC/ Who's thinking about you? ✨️

Hi my loves! ❤️ Welcome to this new pac about the person who has you currently on their mind. As always, take only what resonates with you and leave what doesn't. Take a deep breath before choosing your pile and pick the one that calls you the most, hope you like it :)

My blog in Spanish here

Paid readings here

The pictures are taken from the blog of @simena, my absolute favorite blog, highly recommended<3

Pile 1/Pile 2/ Pile 3

Pile 1:

Who and why?:

(Cards: 3 of wands, 4 of cups rev, 8 of swords rev, death/ ace of pentacles, 7 of swords rev, 4 of pentacles, hermit rev)

I feel a friendship vibe from this pile, this is a person that you thought would be in your life for a really long time, you felt really happy and fulfilled by this person's side, everything seemed to be fie but something happened that you lost contact with eachother, for some I see you had to consciously pull them off your life because they were becoming a toxic influence. Even though you had future plans with this person, maybe a travel or something like that, you decided to leave them behind or the relationship ended before aything bad could happen to you. I feel this was a friendship of yours who was troublesome but you didn't realize of their true colors until it was late, I see here that you really loved and appreciate them deeply and their actions after the separation dissapointed you, like the kind of people that talks bad at your back so they look nicer to the eyes of others.

This person feared that you could find out some truths about them that they wanted to keep hidden, I'm also hearing 'copycat' energy so this person was trying to make theirs your ideas or projects, this person lacks originality and have to absorv it from others like a parasite, even if sounds bad. I really feel that the person who decided to cut off this relationship was you in order to protect yourself and your wellbeing, it might sound weird but it seems like everything was fine on the outside but there was a perceptible tension in the air that you were avoiding or not giving the proper importance to. They are thinking about you because you were a lighthouse for them, their life was better when you were on it and they know it.

Future actions:

(Cards: queen of wands rev, wheel of fortune rev, page of swords, queen of swords)

This person will try to enter your life again, expect a suddent text message or call from them, it has taken them a lot of effort to do it and I even see the have written you before but never sent the message. I take the queen of swords as an advice for you to act more strategicaly and, if you feel like responding the message or call, do it in a cold way because they are coming from a place of interest not love, and might even try to force an argument to prove you wrong. This person is projecting a lot of things over you because they feel small, even more if this separation between you two happened a long time ago, this person feels frustrated about the fact that you could move on and they don't, they might even be jealous of how your life is currently going and the blessings you are receiving. Things look to be moving against this person and they saw you as their lucky charm, now that they don't know how to get out of the circumstances they created, they are coming back into your life for you to save them. Be intelligent my dear, don't let them manipulate you because those are their intentions, play smart.

Pile 2

Who and why?:

(Cards: 7 of wands, hanged man, 3 of swords rev, 10 of pentacles/ knight of swords rev, 5 of wands, 5 of cups rev, empress rev)

Gosh, this person is intense as hell, the kind of person that always has their guard up because thinks that the whole world is against them, always on fight or flight mode. You had a fight or argument with this person that led to break the relationship, this person might be a pisces sun or moon, this person is really defensive and rarely take things lightly, it feels like living in survival mode, it could be a family member for what I'm feeling. For a little amount of you I see that this person could be a love interest that kept you moving back and forth but never commiting to you, they used you for their own interest and avoiding facing the truth of their behavior, this person, whoever it is, is really conflictive within themselves and with the world, they don't know how to keep and care the relationships in their life. If you resonate with the love interest option, this person might be dealing with someone that will treat them the same way they treated you, they are about to receive a heavy karmic lesson.

This person was a little jealous of you, and instead of being ispired by your energy they saw you as a threat even though it was never your intention to make them feel that way. I see that this person holds so much anger and rage within that they need to create any excuse to start an argument so they can release those emotions in a toxic way with people that don't really deserve it. You know that kind of people that get yelled at on their work by their boss and act submissive but when they arrive home they start yelling at everyone the way they wish they yelled at their boss? Well, that's the kind of vibe I'm getting from this person. They think of you from time to time but when you appear in their mind they try hard to pull you away from their thoughts, they have remorse and they know why, they are just avoiding reality and the consequences of their own actions.

Future actions:

(Cards: 4 of pentacles, tower rev, 10 of swords rev, 6 of cups)

This person really misses you, with two 10 cards in their spread I feel like they have solved some issues that were a trouble in your relationship when you were dealing with eachother, right now they feel more positive but they still have this melancholic energy when it comes to you because they know that they could end up things in a more positive light, . They are not going to approach you, their pride is too big for that but, they think about you pretty often and, when they do, they feel remorse and guilt, they know that you were a good influence for them and are aware that their behavior was a burden that caused all the disaster. Anyway, this person thinks that you made them really happy and miss those joyful moments, they know you are a good person and recognie all the good things you made for them, they might be even looking for you in other people because I keep hearing on repeat on my mind the song Glimpse of us (beautiful song but with a very toxic message, it's singed by joji, in case you want to check it)

Pile 3:

Who and why?:

(Cards: star rev, 7 of cups rev, page of wands, strenght rev/ justice, judgement, 4 of swords, page of swords)

This might be a love interest that ghosted you and, for what it seems, for no reason, but in fact they really had serious reasons to pull you away, it might not be ghosting per se but right now there's no contact between you two for any given reason, like things just got cold. This person had a lot of unsolved bussinesses in their life that they needed to be attended by the moment they met you, this person might look very outgoing and resolutive on the outside but there's a deep anxiety they are trying very hard to hide, they might even be using sports as an scape mechanism to stop thinking about everything that's currently on their table. There's a lot of attraction between both of you and this person feels it very intensely, you left a significative mark on them and they can't forget about you, and in fact, they don't want to forget you at all but now they don't feel enough for you, or at least, like they can't offer you what you deserve.

The why is a little more complex than what I expected, for some there could be legal matters involved that they had to solve, maybe this is some kind of forbidden relationship and this person was in the middle of a divorce, whatever it is, law is involved here, for those who don't, they are going through a serious karmic lesson. This person has you on high regard and wants to offer you something real and stable but they know that the circumstances weren't the right ones, they want to present themselves as the perfect match for you and, instead of being honest and tell you about what's going on in their life they decided to let things at pause waiting for the perfect moment to come back.

Future actions:

(Cards: 3 of swords rev, high priestess, hierophant, knight of cups)

This person is coming back into your life with their heart on their hands ready to give it to you, they see you as their counterpart and they regret deeply for not acting correctly with you. Now that their problems are solved they want to come back but they have this fear of you having the door closed for them, I see they have an apology and an explanation for you but they are scared that you might reject them for their behavior. They've been thinking a lot about you and you have probably thought a lot about them too, even have some psychic glimpses of this person like dreams or intuitive toughts. Expect soon a contact from this person, they won't take too long. There's a soulmate/ twin flame connection between you two, and even if this person don't know about this kind of connections they know that there's something special here and that your connection and chemistry is true.

#witchblr #leoascendente #tarot #divination witch #tarotblr #pac reading #pick a pile #tarot reading #pick a picture #tarot spread #tarotcommunity

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flippinpancakes64 · 4 months ago

Note

heyy i love your works sm that i have the notifications active💕 this may sound like a weird request but as a student of classical languages i need to make it: can you please write about cullens with reader who can speak ancient greek and latin? thanks💕 sorry about my english but it’s not my first language

The Cullens with an S/O who speaks Classical Languages

Omg that is so sweet?!?!?? I didn't even know you could activate notifications for certain accounts thank you so much

And I did not add any dialogue of the languages in here because I can only speak English and Spanish and I know if I tried it would just be google translate garbage

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

He's a smart young lad

In the books and the movies he is fluent in Spanish and Portuguese

But the likelihood of him having taken a Greek or Latin course is very high

It's also stated that he has the most degrees so he probably has a language degree in there somewhere

All that to say that he loves speaking to you in those languages

With the Cullens' heightened hearing, there's not a lot of stuff you can hide in that house

But speaking a language that none of the others know is a pretty good way to keep secrets

He would also enjoy talking like that in school

I feel like he secretly enjoys the weird reputation that the Cullens have lol

Alice:

I was able to find that she has a degree in fashion and international business, but nothing on languages

But she's probably taken a couple of French classes

Other than that she doesn't know any other languages

So when she first hears you speak it, she doesn't even know what it is

After you explain that it's ancient Latin/Greek she is enthralled

She wants to know some words so she can understand what you're saying

She gets frustrated when she doesn't

"Wait, I didn't catch that. Talk slower."

"Hmm... no"

"Come ON!"

Jasper:

He has degrees in History and Philosophy

And again no mentions of language

He might've picked up on a couple Spanish phrases back in the day, and probably took some French

But again, nothing more than that

When he hears you speak, he falls in love again

He's not too interested in learning the language, unless you want to teach him

He thinks it sounds infinitely better coming out of your mouth

Rosalie:

She has degrees in electrical engineering, business, and astrophysics

And again no mention of a secondary language anywhere

She would think you sound beautiful though

She says it makes you sound like royalty

Likes to listen to you talk while she works on her car or does her schoolwork

Again, she's not too interested in learning the language

She just wants to hear you talk it

But at some point she picks up on a couple things and feels so proud of herself

Emmett:

No degrees and no languages

The dude is just here

He has major respect for anyone who can learn another language though

And when he finds out that his S/O knows multiple?

He's stoked

Mostly just because he wants to get back at Edward a little bit

He makes you teach him stupid phrases and insults so he can taunt Edward with them

In seriousness though he loves that his S/O is so smart

Esme:

Once again, no degrees and no languages listed

I guess she's just been hanging out

I feel like she would love hearing you speak such an old language

She'd go on some rant about how we're losing touch with older things as the years go by

She thinks your voice sounds so melodic

Also not interested in learning though

But she would find it fun to point at something and ask for the translation

Carlisle:

Obvs he has a medical degree but other than that there's nothing

But like

He's literally 400 years old and hung out with the Volturi for a while

He has to know a whole bunch of languages

He's the only one besides Edward who can speak with you

And he really enjoys it

It helps him feel closer to you

He feels so different from everybody else

He's the oldest by a lot, he's constantly surrounded by humans, he was the OG vegetarian

There's not a lot of people who he feels he can truly connect with

So having this in common makes him feel less like the odd one out

Also sidetrack but I just know his voice is so elegant when he speaks Latin

Vampire! Bella:

In the book it's stated that she wanted to get an english degree to become a teacher

So yeah no language stuff here

She's so curious though

And also frustrated

She wants the word-for-word translation of everything you say

Partially because she is actually curious as to what you're saying

And partially because she feels left out

She is shocked when she finds out though

She's always considered those languages to be dead (which they technically are I guess) and never thought she'd ever hear them

I think she gets a little confused on how you even know it

"Are you, like, secretly a time traveler?"

"No? The languages are just well documented."

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meiluu · 1 year ago

Text

“Touch Her, and I’ll Kill You”

Leon S. Kennedy/ AFAB!Reader [no gendered pronouns, if there are let me know so I can fix it :D] cw: SMUT 18+, blood & gore, Leon goes feral, protective Leon, Plaga!Leon. Terms you may not be familiar with and their meanings: Round- the entire bullet and its casing, the bullet is the tip and the casing is the metal that surrounds it and holds gun powder which allows for the bullet to travel when the gun powder is ignited. Magazine- the term for rounds that are incased in either a type of metal or hard plastic and feed into a handgun or a rifle from the bottom. It is not the same as a ‘clip’.

not edited

Leon pov.

Leon was beyond pissed, this mission to save the presidents' daughter had gone from bad to fucking horrible. He was lucky enough to have another agent along with him, you. Someone who Leon cared for-trusted and you had been separated from him and Ashley. And he was losing what last bit of sanity he had left, he knew that you were strong, capable and so smart. All logic pointed to you being able to hold your own until they were able to find you, or until you found them. But Leon's heart was overruling his brain, taking full control, as his mind was in overdrive as it pushed each of his senses and his knowledge to try and find you. And all of this was pushed into the extremes now because of Leon being infected with the Las Plaga.

Saddler wished he could control the lethality that Leon possessed but the Plaga that he had been infected with seemed wholly under Leon's control and wouldn't respond to his commands.

With his guns at the ready, knife sharp enough to cut through anything, Leon was prepared to go to hell and back to get you. Having heard some spanish grumbles from one of the infected villagers giving him a much needed lead to find you. The chill air of the night nipping at his arms, the darkness of the night keeping him concealed as he made his way to a decrepit building. Turning back to make sure that Ashley was still in the secure spot he left her in- satisfied that she wasn't following him, he continued onward. Gun at the ready as he silently made his way into the building, once inside he made quick work of scanning his surroundings seeing no infecteds around, he moved further in. Footsteps light, measured breathing as Leon moved with a purpose, but that all falters when he hears your enraged cry.

There are hundreds if not thousands of stories out there that talk about feeling so angry that you see red. Stories of people blacking out as they fight whoever it was that threatened them or someone they cared about. That was not the case here. Leon has never felt so focused than now, as he ran to the sound of your cry. Reaching a room with dozens of infecteds along with a grotesque monster trying to give you the las plaga. What was only a few seconds, felt like an eternity in Leon's mind. His vision had completely zeroed in on the monster in front of you, his mind coming up with the perfect way to get you out and kill everything within this room. Then he was moving.

Firing off three rounds into the monster, in its faltered state it let go of you, letting you fall to the hard floor below you. Running towards you in long strides, Leon grabs your arm flinging you behind him- sliding you across the floor towards the entranceway of the room. Unnatural strength that only the las plaga could give him, using every facet to his advantage.

By the time the creature had gained it bearings Leon was right in its face, grabbing onto the creatures deformed face- bringing it down to ground. Smashing its skull into the concrete floor, its dark red blood splattering onto the ground and onto him. Raising his head he saw the swarm of infecteds running towards him- quickly aiming his sights onto the closest ones. Seven more rounds leave his gun, seven infected fall to the ground with 9mm holes through their skulls. Hearing the click of an empty magazine, with not enough time to reload Leon's holstering his gun and grabbing his knife. With an infected near inches from his face, he's stabbing the knife into its skull- a satisfied squelch greets Leon's ears. Its face falls as the life in its eyes is smothered out. Retching his knife from the skull, he's swinging wide cutting another infected’s neck-nearly taking its head off its shoulders. Both of their bodies crumbled to the ground- but there are more headed his way.

Eyes that no longer held that sky blue color but instead were a red crimson with black veins standing out against his skin that became more prominent as he fought. With the last infected slumping to the ground with its decapitated head being carelessly flung to the floor. Breathing hard, shoulders rising in falling as Leon gains control over his breathing again. Satisfied that there was no more threats within the room he's turning back to where you were still sat near the entrance. Your face was marred with a shocked expression, a mix of fear and awe at what you had just witnessed. "Are you ok?" Leon's voice is husky with exertion, your eyes meet his as you nod your head. With quick long strides Leon closes the distance between you two.

Picking you up from the floor like you weighed nothing bringing you into his embrace, burying his head into the crook of your neck inhaling your mouth-watering scent. Letting it ground him, he had found you and you were okay. His arms were wrapped tight around your waist, he felt your arms hesitantly wrap around his shoulders. "I'm okay, Leon. Are you?" your voice was nervous. Not that you didn't secretly relish with the embrace from someone who you had been crushing on for awhile but after what you saw you were a bit afraid of pushing him too far. Though somewhere in the back of your mind you knew Leon would never hurt you- even with the plaga, within him. "Yes." a short and gruff reply was all you got from him.

"Where's Ashley?"

"Safe."

"Ok, lets go meet back up with her so we can get you both help."

"No."

"Leon-" unable to finish as Leon warm tongue is licking a long stripe from the base of your neck to the spot right below your ear. "You smell so good, we don't have to leave now." his voice is smooth and full of desire. "But we-" a soft gasp interrupts you, as Leon gently bites into the sensitive skin of your neck. “Let me have you.” His words are rough as he says them into your skin. Your mind blanks, there’s no way this is happening right now! “Leon- right here?!”

“Yes here, now.” No hesitation to be found in his proclamation. Maybe it was the fact that his scent was overwhelming your senses or maybe it was the fact that you’ve dreamed about being with him (maybe not like this). Whatever the case your mind was giving into his advances just like your body had already surrendered to him. Not that there was really ever a want to ‘fight’.

“Ok, but what if someone comes in here?"

“I’ll hear them before they get that close to us.” So assured of himself, no room for doubt. But you never had reason to doubt him and his capabilities.

And with some of your worries eased Leon is lifting his head from your neck. Locking his gaze with yours, his once beautiful baby blue orbs are a vicious red with black veins to accentuate them. You knew this was because of the plaga but it seemed that he had full control over himself- unlike the other people who were infected. But your thoughts are halted by his soft lips claiming yours.

Eyes fluttering shut at the sweetness of his taste, a gentle dance that quickly turns heavy as Leon nips at your bottom lip- pushing in his tongue to dance with yours. A rumble of satisfaction vibrates through Leon's chest, the intoxicating taste of you has his body burning with need. Pulling you both down onto the hard floor, lips still locked together- soft gasps of air echoing out in the space around you. Your hands are running through Leon's soft blond locks as his hands drift down. Rubbing his thumbs over your pebbling nipples eliciting a whimper from your swollen lips, hands leaving a fiery trail down towards your navel but then he is pulling his hands away from you. A pathetic sound leaves your lips at the lose of his warmth but you are quick to shut up when your eyes catch onto his teeth pulling off his gloves from his hands, discarding them like trash.

And as quickly as those gloves where thrown away are his hand back onto you, pulling up your shirt, his calloused hands caress the soft flesh of your navel. One hand travel up back to your left breast as the other dips below the waist of your pants going straight to your neglected clit. "Leon." a breathy moan of his name leaves you as he begins to swirl your clit with his thumb while two of his fingers work you open- stretching you out. The hand that had been massaging your breast retreats from under your shirt as it goes to unstrap your leather harness where your empty gun rests in. Clattering to the ground Leon pulls your shirt off of you- freeing your tits. Leaving your mouth his head is headed down taking a perked nipple into his warm mouth- swirling his tongue and softly nipping at it. Making sure not abandon the other nipple as he gives the same treatment to it.

With all of his combined menstruations your already close to your peak, fingers diligently pumping into you at a stead pace, clit buzzing in ecstasy while your chest radiates pleasured tingles throughout your body. Mouth hanging open to allow all your noises of pleasure to run free, but before you can reach that blinding peak Leon is harshly removing himself from you. A cry leaves you, you were so close, eyes raising from where they had been watching Leon worship your breasts. Now your eyes are watching Leon as he sits up on his knees, undoing his belt nearly ripping it in half. Then shoving his pants down along with his boxers- freeing his cock. Precum dibbles down the angry tip- weeping in anticipation. His hands soon find your pants yanking them down and off of you along with your drenched panties.

Your arousal hits Leon at full force now that there was no barriers between your cunt and him. Every basic instinct within him coiled with his care for you and then amplified by the plaga had turned him to a much more raw version of himself. This, what he was doing to you, was something so much more than just fuckin someone who he cared about or found attractive. (Both of those things were true). He needed you like he needed air, you had always balanced him out and you both were always so in sync with one another. Maybe it was the plaga within his veins, but at the end of the day, in the back of Leon's mind he knew all of this was true. He needed to fuck you so that you knew how much he needed you- in his plaga riddled mind combined with the past adrenaline of trying to find you and nearly going insane without you beside him- it made perfect sense to him. You were his just like how he was yours, wholly and completely yours.

He killed for you and would do it again without hesitation, he would search to the ends of the earth to find you if you became lost. And so, warm and calloused hands pulled you to him- no space left between- cock bumping against your clit and then was pushed into your wet heat. Your eyes rolling into the back of your head at the fullness, something you hadn't experience before. His pelvis meeting yours, hilt buried deep within you, he had reached heaven and nothing could ever compare to this feeling of being in your embrace. Grabbing your legs and placing them upon his shoulders, leaning down until his face was right above yours- with his hands now down below at the base of your spine lifting you up for him to fuck into as deep as possible.

Rough and deep was the pace Leon set, your moans unashamedly are cried out into the air around you. Not like you had a chance to smother your noises- how could you when he was hitting the inner most parts of you? With the tip of his cock bruising your g-spot as it sweetly kissed your cervix.

He was utterly ruining you, nothing would ever top this, you could never fuck anyone else without thinking of him. But would you want to fuck anyone else besides him? No, he was so perfect, the two of you fit each other so well why would you want anything else?

Deep groans mixed with husky moans tumble from his beautiful mouth, hypnotizing you in their melody. Your mind was dripping out of your ears to make room for the mind-numbing pleasure his cock was giving you. Every vein and ridge massaging your walls just right, the girth stretching you out to near pain and his length was able to mold you into the perfect cocksleeve for him. "Fuck-Fuck," Leon's words are rough with exertion, but he never once slowed down his pace.

Skin slapping against skin, the lovely sound of your cunt squelching with ever thrust of his cock into you, all in tandem with his full balls hitting your ass. Your peaking is coiling tight within your belly, and it snaps before you can even voice it to Leon, cunt erratically spasming around him milking him for his own release. With a couple more thrust Leon is burying himself as deep as he can get, as his balls tighten, releasing every drop of cum within your warm cunt. Pants leave him as you both try to come down from that earth shattering orgasm. And just as you think Leon's going to pull out of you he's turning you onto your stomach, leaning over you- shadowing your body with his- as he starts fucking with just as much vigor as before.

"Leon!"

"I'm not done with you yet-"

Mind going hazy with pleasure as your cunt lovingly continues to suck in his cock- obviously on the same page with Leon. You needed more and he was going to deliver on that. Somewhere in the back of your mind you hoped that Ashley was safe, where ever she was because you and Leon would be here for a long while.

*hehe i've cooking this one for awhile, hopefully y'all enjoy it >:) *

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skylarsblue · 1 year ago

Text

✦Meeting & Flirting W/ The C.o.D Men✦

~✦Part Two✦~

✧Alejandro, Rodolfo, König, Alex✧ ✦GN!Reader, mostly fluff, mild descriptions of wounds/combat/war, random call signs and some use of y/n, minor sexual tension, inconsistencies with canon timelines because I'm better than the games(/j), I started this before König was called a colonel, poorly translated Spanish & German that I apologize for (correct me please-)✦

✧Alejandro Vargas✧

Civilians let out screams and ducked into houses to hide. Tan colored vans and trucks lined the streets of Mexico as shots were fired. The moments of quiet were as worrisome as the sounds of gunfire in a situation like this. Alejandro cursed as yet another man declared their ammo low. They were running out, at the rate they were going, they’d need to pull back. Alejandro was a stubborn man, however, and bowing down to a cartel would’ve done damage to the credibility of his men, along with his own ego. “Colonel, there’s a car coming in. Unmarked.” His radio crackled with the information. “Aye, watch it. Keep looking. Does it look like the enemy?” Alejandro replied, getting a negative in response. As if there wasn’t a risk of fire being brought out, the car stopped in the middle of a paused stand off. Out of the vehicle stepped one person, dressed in a way that stood out completely. “What in the hell is this?” Alejandro hissed as he watched the civilian look around. They were wearing a mask of porcelain, decorated elegantly with gold paint, almost like a statue of crying Virgin Mary. He locked eyes with them, and they…motioned for him to pause. “What do we do?” The soldier beside Alejandro asked. “Sir, I think I know who this is.” His radio called. He watched as the stranger turned to confused members of the enemy, raising their hand to the sky. Three fingers, two, and then one. The cartel’s side of the street blew up and the stranger ran for cover. “Mierda! What the fuck is happening?!” A soldier exclaimed. Alejandro’s radio triggered again with enthusiastic laughter. “Resistance sir, the one I’ve been telling you about!” The colonel took a breath. “The one run by civilians? How’d they set this up?” He asked roughly, aiming his gun to take a shot. “They’re smart, sir. That one you saw? That’s their leader. A talk with them would be a good idea, they’re a powerful ally, a stronger bond could prove useful.” Alejandro looked across the field in awe as the stranger took out a few more cartel soldiers. They then looked at him, giving him a nod and a salute. For the first time that day, Alejandro smiled. “A strong ally indeed.”

(I make them speak mostly English so I avoid making mistakes in Spanish, I'm sorry-) It had been a month since that day, and three weeks since Alejandro & Rudy had properly met the mysterious masked individual. They'd proven themselves rather charming, even if a bit suspicious. Alejandro had been rather excited to meet the individual who'd managed to secretly gather well-trained civilians to aid them against the cartel, pulling stunts like they did before. Though their real name was a heavily guarded secret, much like their face, they did have a name of sorts to associate with them. Los Lares, in reference to Roman mythological deities that provided protection. Their leader, the masked individual, known only as Padres, though occasional nicknames popped up from individuals they were close with. Alejandro had done his best to assess whether they were trust worthy or not, they did the same to him. And after two successful mini missions, Padres agreed to show Alejandro, Rudy, and some of his men what they'd been hiding. "Well would you look at this..." Alejandro said quietly as they drove through a small village. Guarded heavily with armed civilians was a tiny town commandeered by Los Lares, rather than the cartel. Kept safe from the carnage in the rest of Las Almas. The car rolled through slowly, allowing them to gaze at buildings without bullet holes, covered in colorful decorations. Children ran around playfully, adults standing around and talking, some small market carts on the edge of the street that gave out fresh food and household items. Music playing over speakers. Not a single skull balaclava in sight. Rudy pulled over and parked by a building at the end of the long street. The shell of a church it seemed. Outside of it was Padres, running around with children on their tail. When they noticed the men that had pulled up, they declared for the children to play on their own for a bit. Alejandro couldn't stop his smile as he continued looking around, eyes falling back on them. "This is what you meant by Sanctuary." He said. "Si, I made it myself. No violence occurs here, no fear. How it should be." They explained. "Rodolfo. My second in command, Emil, wanted to discuss things with you, if you wouldn't mind." Padres said, motioning to the man behind them. Rudy looked at Alejandro, who nodded. Rudy walked off after that and left them alone. "I see why you were so secretive now." Alejandro stated, watching them nod. "It usually takes a lot longer to be allowed access here. But I knew you'd be trust worthy." They explained as they leaned against the jeep he'd arrived in. He crossed his arms and leaned on the car as well. "And when did you decide this?" He asked. Padres chuckled and blinked at him past the holes of their mask. He wondered how eye contact alone could make him feel so warm, tingly. "I met your gaze during that gun fight and I could tell. You have the light of angels, querido." They purred. Alejandro chuckled quietly and shook his head fondly. "¿Coqueteando? ¿De verdad?" He asked in a hushed voice, leaned in slightly. They raised both hands in mock surrender. "I see a lot in your eyes, Colonel. Many, many things. Tu disfrute es uno." They teased. Alejandro ran his tongue over his teeth. "Si? I see things in your eyes too." He replied. Padres tilted their head and silently urged him to elaborate. Alejandro let out a breath and smiled. "Peligro. Mucho." He exhaled, senses lit aflame when he saw the distinct signs of a smile hidden behind the mask.

Alejandro enjoyed when he had time to visit the sanctuary Padres had created. There was so much joy around and peace filled the air, and for the first time in a long time, he felt like his shoulders could relax. That he could be at ease. In his visits, he often saw families, children running around with big grins, hearing the innocent laughter always brought Alejandro joy and a sense of longing. He'd always been the familial type with a large soft spot for kids. It showed in his actions, like currently, as he let two boys hang off of his arms like some playground equipment. They giggled and squealed in jovial fun as he hoisted them higher, though he set them down gently when their mother's face grew a bit apprehensive. It was when a little girl, leading a group of children, asked to play hide & seek that things really got to be fun. Alejandro found himself hiding under a table in one of the homes, another child at his side. He held his finger to his lips as they giggled away behind their hands. Both of them seized up when evenly spaced footsteps made themselves present, too heavy for a child. Alejandro had a quick flash of memories that made his body tense up, watching the table cloth be lifted. But it wasn't an enemy, nor a child, but instead a porcelain mask with a smiling individual underneath. "Room for one more?" They asked in a whisper. Alejandro blinked before he snickered and nodded. Both he and the child carefully scooted back to allow Padres more room. "Isn't our hiding spot good, Padres?" The child asked excitedly. "Si, Rosa, it is. I almost couldn't find you both." They replied in a tone akin to a praising mother, something that made Alejandro's chest ache. "What gave us away?" He asked them, smiling wider when they glanced his way. "Your boots, colonel. Your laces were untied, they poked out from underneath." They answered, prompting Alejandro to look. Sure enough, his left boot lace was untied. He sighed and shook his head at the rookie mistake, still grinning however. A beat of silence passed before a rush of tiny footsteps came in, prompting the three to be extra quiet. "Got'cha!!" The little girl declared as she lifted the table cloth. Rosa screamed and laughed, quickly getting up to run away. Both Alejandro and Padres stayed, watching Rosa make a swift get away from her friend running after her. Leaving them both alone under the table. "You are good with kids." The self-appointed commander said fondly. Alejandro melted at the sentiment alone, it always felt like one of the highest level compliments when someone said it. Even more so coming from them. "Gracias, Padres." He said, only for them to shake their head. "Y/N. My name is Y/N, when we are alone, you may call me that." They said softly, leaving Alejandro surprised. The shock wore off quickly and a pleasant tenderness filled the air, showing in their shared gaze. "Losing the mystery, aye?" He asked. "No, merely trusting you with my secrets. I trust I made a good decision?" They replied. Alejandro nodded. "Now I just have to get that mask off of you." He teased. They gave a quiet laugh. "I can't wait..."

It was always nice to celebrate after a successful mission, especially one as high stakes as this. With a large threat neutralized, it seemed like a big party was the right answer. There was a large hand of help from Los Lares, and the citizens who called the refuge home saw it only right to allow Alejandro's men into their sanctuary, to indulge in their victory with loud music and home cooked meals. Alcohol as well, of course. Alejandro stood on a roof and watched the streets below, lit up with colorful lights and bustling with music. He felt his shoulders relax as he watched his soldiers mingle, laughing loudly, raising toasts to their lost brothers & sisters. He took a swig of beer as his gaze shifted to the sky, full of twinkling stars. He went to take another drink, only to find the bottle empty. He debated going back down to grab another one, only to feel a hand rest on his lower back. He flinched and looked over, met with a familiar mask and a kind gaze. "Need another, colonel?" Y/N asked softly, holding up an open beer. Alejandro chuckled and took it, setting the empty one on the roof's edge. "Gracias. How'd you know?" He asked. He turned his body to watch them, even spaced steps taking them to a couple of supply crates. They took a seat and shrugged, he could feel their calm smile in their aura. "Lucky guess. You weren't down there, spotted you up here and I figured you'd like some company. Was I right?" They asked with a head tilt. He walked closer with an exhale. "Yes and no." He answered. They silently encouraged him to elaborate, tilting their head to look up at him as he came to stand in front of them. "Oh?" Alejandro chuckled and set the beer down beside them. "I was looking forward to your company." He admitted. Even in the low light of the moon, he could see their pupils expand. "Such a charmer, Mr.Vargas." They teased in a hushed tone. He rose his hands with a quiet laugh. "Interesting choice in company, however. An individual with no face for you to name." They said. Alejandro's face softened. There was a short beat of silence that seemed to last forever, finally a peaceful moment without the worry of being killed, allowing him to admire them properly, despite the mask. He then remembered their promise, the words spoken to him to keep his morale high when things were looking bleak. So, though he was careful, he rose his hands to their face, cautiously grazing the edge of the mask with his fingers. "Is that right?" He whispered. They didn't move back or scold him, merely kept his eyes locked with theirs in a look that sent shivers down his spine, even as he edge the mask up. It was pulled away and in an instant, they were exposed fully. Alejandro let out a breath and forgot to inhale afterward. Their smile caused his lungs to constrict in tight thorns. "Well? ¿Algo que decir, coronel?" They asked, and though their tone was cool, he could see the flinch of fear. The anxiety of rejection. He took his free hand to brush over their cheekbone, feeling warm skin instead of cold glass. "Peligrosa… peligrosamente hermosa." He whispered back. They snorted. "How cheesy..." They teased again, tilting their head up to meet him halfway.

✧Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra✧

Rodolfo’s eyes cracked open, he let out a short wheeze. He wasn’t all there, but he was keenly aware of a large commotion outside. He could faintly recall his mission and how he ended up with the throbbing in the back of his head. An RPG hit the building he was in just right and it knocked him out cold. Astigmatism disrupted his vision and his limbs felt heavy. He winced when a light came from the side, the sun, beaming through as the broken door was shoved off. He blinked, and there was someone he’d never seen before. They weren’t really dressed for battle, wearing a decorated porcelain mask with a rifle strapped to their back. Rudy’s hand twitched for his gun before they hushed him, placing their hand on his arm. “Tranquilo ahí, cariño. I’m on your side.” They said gently before turning their head to shout some orders at an unseen person. They turned back to him and cautiously turned his head, clicking their tongue sympathetically as he whined. “Took quite a hit, huh? Don’t worry, we have help on the way and your friends and mine have almost cleared out the enemy.” They took out a flashlight, shining it in his eyes When his pupils responded normally, they put the flashlight away and called out some more orders. Rodolfo decided to try and sit up but he barely moved before nearly falling back on the floor. They caught him by the back of his neck. “Easy, pretty boy. Don’t make yourself worse.” They said, gently guiding him to sit up with their support. Rudy blinked and groaned. He got a better look at them now, pushing past his dry mouth to try and speak. “You…you are the ally Alejandro mentioned…” he grunted. Their eyes scrunched, indicating a smile. “That’s right, dear. And I’ll get you out of here. You can trust me on that.” They promised.

Rodolfo carefully scratched around the edge of a bandage on his head, huffing when Alejandro lightly flicked his hand, scolding him for fidgeting with it. "I'm healing fine." He said quietly, glancing at the map on the table in front of them. "Still, shouldn't mess with it." Alejandro replied with a caring pat to his shoulder. They were waiting in a planning/common room in the main base of their new adversaries, a civilian led resistance against the cartel. Rudy recalled the way they carefully held him steady when they'd found him, after he'd been knocked unconscious. Alejandro swore they were trustworthy, and so far, they'd definitely been helpful. Alejandro stood more straight when the door swung open and Padres entered the room, a few of their men behind them. The two of them overheard the leader scolding a civie-soldier for not eating breakfast before they turned to the two friends. They were dressed more casually than the other times they'd met. Looking liked they'd just been dragged out of bed, actually. And although they seemed sleepy, still in slippers even, they still bore their mysterious porcelain mask. "Apologies, my alarm didn't go off." Padres apologized in a gentle tone. Alejandro chuckled and shook his head. "You all there yet, Padres?" He asked, smiling when they waved their hand, approaching the table. "I can still explain my plan to you, si." They replied before yawning, Rudy smiled as they went to cover their mouth for the sake of manners, despite the face covering. Their eyes landed on him and he could see the signs of a smile in their gaze. "Ah, chico lindo, how's your head?" They asked. Rodolfo felt his cheeks warm at the nickname, they hadn't been subtle when he first met them either. "Fine, just sore." He replied. At that moment, the quiet mutterings of a man who'd come in for some coffee hit the room. A soldier named Ramirez. Whispering about Rodolfo's skills, trying to imply he wasn't a true soldier for being wounded "so easily", which made another snicker. Rudy didn't show a reaction to it, Alejandro scowled, but both men jumped when Padres gasped. With skilled precision, they flicked their slipper from their foot and caught it from the air, launching it in the direction of Ramirez. A perfect headshot as the slipper smacked the back of the soldier's skull. Alejandro and Rudy shared a look, recalling their own experiences with the all feared chancla. "Debería darte vergüenza! These men give their life everyday for the sake of our country, they were fighting before you were given your status in my army, show some respect! You will not disrespect this man again, do you understand me?!" They shouted, finger pointed. The man shrank, rubbing the back of his head. "Si, commander." Padres put their hands on their hips. Ramirez approached with their slipper, which Padres snatched from his grip, dropping it on the floor so they could it back on. "Now apologize for your insolence." They demanded, pointing at Rudy. Both Rodolfo and Alejandro watched with wide eyes as a grown man, tall and buff, turned with his head down like an embarrassed child, muttering an apology. Rudy swallowed and let it go, unable to look away from the mysterious individual who'd defended him so valiantly. They'd been so gentle and sweet. Rudy felt his mouth grow dry and his stomach twist as they sent Ramirez away with a wave of their hand. With a breath and a headshake, they turned to face him again, smiling once more. "Now, let's get this done, alright?" They asked. Rudy nodded, not missing the teasing glance Alejandro gave him.

It was sweltering, as expected for a Mexican Summer. The speedy movement and adrenaline of avoiding gunfire only added to the discomfort. There were still cartel members outside, but at a distance. There was quiet for a moment, excluding Rodolfo's breathing being hissed through his teeth. A bullet had skidded past the back of his hand, tearing through his glove and leaving blood running down his arm. He was sat on the floor of an abandoned house, jacket discarded and shirt sleeve rolled past his elbow. "I know it stings, but you'll be alright." His ally, Padres, spoke softly to him past their mask. He nodded and leaned his head back against the wall, watching them dig through a bag for medical supplies. He held his hand up to lessen blood flow, letting it run across the dips in his muscled forearm. "How is it that every time you find me, I'm bleeding?" The man asked with a playful tone, smiling slightly when they snickered. "Well, mi tonto y querido soldado. It's because you're a reckless fool." Their thumb pressed into the area around the wound, making him wince, looking them in the eye. Their gaze was sharper than before, although not malicious. "You are so smart but so, so very stupid sometimes." They shook their head, taking away the pressure from his hand, holding it cautiously now. "You're swift, you're experienced, you're intelligent. But you're hot headed, and sometimes you get too focused on a goal to realize you're stepping on a land mine. It amazes me you're not more battered than you are." Their concern was warranted and their praise was met with warmth in his face. He swallowed and looked back at them again as they examined his wound, slowly rising their gaze to him again. He could see the signs of a gentle smile in their eyes. They hushed him soothingly when his hissed at the sting of disinfectant. His hand twitched involuntarily from the odd feeling on his nerves. "You have a point." He sighed, looking at their surroundings for a moment. He let out a short laugh after a few seconds of silence. "At least you're always near by to fix me up, no? I seem to heal faster when you're caring for my wounds." He muttered, feeling his stomach twist with an exciting bout of nerves. He wasn't much of a flirting type, and he tried to keep it subtle enough in case he'd been misreading. Padres chuckled fondly as they pressed down a bandage around his arm, kindly wiping away the blood. "Not the first to have told me that." They said fondly. With one last look at his hand, the clicked their tongue as they took in the damage. "Your hand will likely be difficult to use for until it's healed. We'll need to speed up that process." Rudy rose an eyebrow, confused. His eyes widened when they lifted their mask slightly, just enough to expose their mouth. It was hard to remember to breathe as a care kiss was placed over the bandage, he swore he could feel the burn of their lips past the layers, seeping into his wound and sending shocks in his blood. "Stay vigilant, chico lindo, I need you in peak condition."

(tw; war and brief mentions of wounds) Rodolfo panted heavily as he vaulted through a broken window, feeling perspiration on his skin from the heat of fire and exercise as he continued to sprint through a broken down building. There was bloodshed, naturally, it came with the job. But there was something in his stomach that twisted as he worried he'd find their body amongst those empty of souls. He'd promised to be more careful, but he'd dropped that worry as soon as their mic cut out. The fight had died down and an evac was only two miles away, but he demanded proof of their demise before he'd step anywhere near it. The man's steps crackled over broken glass and after the constant rain of bullets, the silence felt all the more deafening. His ears rang with a high pitched whine that he tried to ignore, listening for anything amongst the worrying stillness. He felt hope dwindle as seconds tic down, until he heard the sound of moving rubble in a room he'd yet to check. It could've been an enemy, perhaps it wasn't them, but despite the risk he rushed over and pushed the broken door out of his way. His breath left his lungs with weight as he saw their back, struggling to push themselves up. "Oh, gracias a Dios, est��s vivo." Rudy said as he rushed over. A cruel sense of deja vu hit him as he gently guided them into sitting up, their hands covering their face. They groaned quietly, leaning against him for support. Rudy took a quick glance around, seeing pieces of their iconic mask broken. "Where are you wounded? Evac isn't far, what do you need?" He asked, only to hear them let out a strained chuckle. Slowly, blood covered hands stopped covering their visage. Air punched out of his chest as he finally got their face, and while blood dripped from a fairly painful seeming gash on their forehead, they smiled. "Tranquilo, cariño. Estoy bien." They said, gaze tired and a bit dazed. Rudy sighed and shook his head. "You've already used that line..." He said back, unable to stop the tiny smile as they snorted. "So I have." They hummed, resting against his armored shoulder. Rodolfo swallowed and chewed on some words stuck in his throat for a moment, up until they tapped him. "Just ask me already, Rodolfo. I'm losing blood and I think you should know how much I like you by now." They said with a hint of smugness. Rudy clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, chuckling when the poked him again. "Don't roll your eyes at me, young man." They scolded playfully, groaning in pain as he carefully helped them up, pulling them close to keep them supported. "A drink after this sounds nice, si?" He asked quietly. They nodded lazily. "With you? Absolutely." Rudy smiled and began slowly guiding them out of the broken building. "It's a date then."

✧König Badubrecht✧

Konig anxiously fiddled with the bracelet he snuck under his sleeves while he waited. He recalled a breathing technique and tried his best to keep his breaths quiet, but full enough to keep him calm. On any other day, he would've been mostly fine, but this was not every other day. No. His commander had told him that he, and two other soldiers, would be meeting up with a rather impressive taskforce run by Captain John Price. As if it wasn't enough that Ghost was on the team, as well as the ties they had to impressive forces in Mexico, all of that on its own was enough to get him antsy to make a good impression. But there was something in particular that caused his nerves to light up with unease. Meeting their sniper. Only known by their callsign 'Hotshot'. When Price had chosen them, word spread fast to allies about the impressive track record they carried. Twice, they had missed a shot twice. That was two compared to, give or take, three-thousand-four shots they had taken. A number that steadily grew with each mission, one kept track of just to prove the otherwise outrageous number. König loved the idea of being a sniper and practiced frequently, even if he was never given the position due to his size. Part of him wanted to ask for an autograph, but he also knew that would likely get him weird looks. "Oi, Großer Kerl. Das Team ist hier." His commander's voice startled him just as much as the words. König swallowed and nodded. He stood up and quickly fussed over his appearance before following. He let the other soldiers he'd be working with walk in front of him. He envied them, their confidence. Slightly baffled they could walk toward such impressive people without feeling the need to overthink how they'd present. It was one thing when König didn't care about their opinion, or when he was walking toward enemies. He'd strut forward with his shoulders rolled back and his chin high, gaze stern and sharp as the blade on his belt. But wanting people to like you, new people no less? He'd had easier times handling battles than that. It didn't get easier when they were in view. He towered over all of them, hiding wasn't much of an option, although his veil helped. König noted all of them individually as his commander spoke with Captain Price. Ghost certainly was intimidating, Gaz & Soap seemed more approachable, not to take away from their capable abilities however. Then his eyes fell on the last member, feeling his chest clench, making his hands do the same at his sides. He wasn't sure what he was expecting when he'd heard of Hotshot's illustrious reputation. Still, he wasn't expecting them to be so...beautiful. They stood confidently with a laid back smile, some left over war paint smudged under their eyes, black gloves over their hands. König had so much to say and it all piled up in the back of his throat. He'd gotten so lost in staring at them that he'd completely missed everyone introducing themselves to each other, hence why he flinched violently when he was addressed directly. Suddenly, someone he viewed so highly was stood in front of him, craning their neck to make eye contact. "You alright there, big man?" They asked with a smile. König let out a string of stammered noises. They rose an eyebrow with a head tilt as the man mentally scolded himself, trying hard to actually say a word, anything! "You're pretty." He said suddenly with a voice crack. Instantly, shame and regret waved over his body. Hotshot blinked a few times in surprise. "I-I-I'm so sorry, I didn't-" "I like you." They pointed with a grin again, much wider than before. König deadpanned, eyes wide and stunned quiet. He watched them extend a hand. "Look forward to workin' with you, Romeo." They teased lightly. König hesitated, but very carefully shook their hand with a nod.

König held his breath before pulling the trigger on his USR rifle. The bullet soared through the air and through the paper of the target, leaving a fresh hole in the figure's skull. He exhaled and smiled to himself under his sniper veil, taking notes on what he had done right, what he could do better. As he went to grab his pen and jot it all done, he flung it in surprise when clapping sounded behind him. He nearly broke his neck whipping his head around, pulse stuttering when he viewed Hotshot leaned on the wall. Or, Y/N, as they'd said to call them. Though König had yet to break the habit of calling them Lieutenant. He blushed heavily as they smiled at him, pushing off the wall. "Nice shot, big guy. Right between the eyes." They complimented, letting out a whistle as they gazed at the target. He swallowed a lump in his throat, hands growing clammy in his gloves. He hadn't known them very long, admittedly, although their reputation preceded them. It had been a little less than a month since he'd first been introduced, in that time, he'd grown to find them charming. Too charming for him to handle. "Remind me again why they won't give you a proper sniper position again?" They asked as he leaned back on his knees. Konig cleared his throat, hoping his voice wouldn't crack. "My size." He mumbled, a bit bitterly. Hotshot clicked their tongue both sympathetically and in annoyance. "Yeah, I'd imagine being that tall has it's drawbacks. Seems to have advantages too though. Still, I think you're a great shot. Little awkward on your form though." They explained. Konig glanced up at them with a small head tilt, silently hoping they'd elaborate. They smiled and crouched beside him, suddenly reminding him just how much bigger he was. "Get back in position, I'll show ya." They smiled. Konig nodded and did as told. He wasn't necessarily an obedient soldier, but he always listened to what they said. He'd been so worried about how they perceived him, stepping out of line brought too much anxiety. He wanted them to like him. He adjusted his hold on the gun, resuming the position he was in before they came in. "See, you're firing well, but is this a position you could hold for an hour?" They asked. "Nien, my back starts to hurt." He admitted. Hotshot nodded and snapped their fingers. "Exactly. Here, I can already tell your problem." He glanced at them before his breath caught in his throat, feeling their hand gently placed on his leg. Positioning it a bit more outwards, bending at the knee. Through thick cargo pants and a set of gloves, their palm felt like fire through fabric, singeing his skin. His hands twitched nervously when they moved up by his shoulders. "Now, instead of holding your head like that, try this instead." Their voice was soft, quiet. König felt his pulse in his extremities when their hand found his jaw underneath his make-shift sniper hood, tilting his head as they wished. "There ya go, big guy. Now, try firing like that." The nickname suddenly felt like fire to his senses, and he had to clench his jaw to bite back an unmanly sound. He did his best to hold the gun steady, aiming once more, ignoring the proximity of his superior. He fired, unable to focus on where the bullet landed. He could still somehow feel the ghost of their hands on his person. He flinched when they clapped twice. "Another headshot! Good job, mate. Keep at it and you'll be better than me soon." They smiled brightly. Konig blinked up at them, nodding carefully. The lieutenant hadn't missed the widening of his pupils. "I'll let you get back to it. Come get me if you want more tips." They patted his shoulder, taking careful note of his near-silent shudder. Perfect.

(TW; War typical violence, blood lusty König) The man heaved, feeling ice in his veins, bright red blood darkening the fabric of his gear. He counted the bodies around him, ten in total, none of them moving. He scanned the area around him as he continue moving, looking for more targets, knowing if he didn't have one in his sights, someone had him in theirs. His fist clenched around the handle of his blade when his radio crackled. Static mixed with a voice, one frantic, one familiar. Past his adrenaline rushed brain he heard the panicked call of his friendly sniper, one who'd recently called him a friend. Long legs broke into a sprint, operating off his most basic instincts, the most animalistic portions of his mind. He made it to their position with, to him, felt like seconds. He didn't process the information around him before his body was moving, quick as light and as brutal as iron spikes. Suddenly, his body count that day went from thirty to thirty four. A loud crack and a heavy thump of a limp body hitting the floor was the last thing her heard before the blood rushing in his ears started to settle. He turned to look over his shoulder, seeing Y/N coughing, grasping at their neck. He went over to them in three large strides, kneeling down in front of them. "Mein Freund, geht es Ihnen gut?" He asked, voice heavy with breath and a bit shaky. They coughed again with a nod. "I'm alright, I'm good. Thank you." He listened to the rasp out their answer. As things grew quiet again, König realized just how intense he'd been. One glance at the bodies behind him showed the true nature many often were unaware of. He was a violent, terrifying force when in war. Typically, he didn't care. He'd grown to stop caring after so much of his life was met with judgment or rejection. But he liked this person, therefore, their approval mattered to him, and now his anxiety began to rise. They'd fear him, avoid him now, surely. "König." Their voice snapped him forward again. "Can you get this mic off? It's hard to breathe with it..." They muttered, motioning to the throat mic tightly secured around their neck. It caught him by surprise. He'd just snapped a neck without hesitation not even five minutes prior, and yet they were asking for his help still. He swallowed and nodded. The winced and tilted their head back, allowing access to their bruised esophagus. König tried not to tremble as his fingers clumsily when to loosen and undo the mic. His hand was dangerous, blood still stained his gloves as he grazed their skin with the fabric. His chest felt ready to burst as he heard them sigh in relief when the pressure let go, easing some of the sting of the irritation. It was red, soon to be a deep purple when the bruises truly formed. It looked painful. König's fingers shook as he absentmindedly trailed the line dented in their skin. "I'm okay." Their voice made him jump again, bringing his eyes back to theirs. They smiled at him, already exhausted from the day of battle. König blinked and nodded slowly. He cleared his throat and pulled his hand away, like he'd been burned, feeling his skin lit aflame. "Let us finish so you can get to evac." He muttered, standing up, allowing them to use his deadly hand to hoist themselves up with him.

"God it is so pretty here!" Y/N declared as they looked around at König's hometown. Graz, Austria. König smiled behind his black medical mask as he watched them look around in awe, feeling pride bubble in his chest as they walked to his home. Since he'd joined the military, he'd gone home alone. It was lonely, yes, though he always made sure to visit his grandmother when he'd come back from missions. His apartment always felt too quiet, too empty. He liked his alone time but often times he found the solitude suffocating. Everyone he knew on his team didn't really have this problem, either being fine on their own, with friends to visit, or family to return to. That was until the hotshot sniper admitted a very similar situation to himself. He saw how their face fell when they mentioned it, and despite his fear of rejection, he took a leap and offered a plane ticket. It surprised and delighted him when they jumped at the opportunity. He was proud that they enjoyed his country so far, even if he was nervous about their opinion of his home. Not that he could avoid it, however, given they were already at his door. König unlocked the door and stepped in, immediately removing his shoes. They mimicked his movements and carefully set their boots off to the side. He took a second to note how small theirs were in comparison to his. They took a gander around his home. It wasn't much, a simply decorated place with some mild dust built up from how long he was gone. When they giggled quietly, his stomach twisted, wondering what it could mean. "Uhm, welcome to mein home. Do...do you like it?" He asked nervously. "You decorate like a grandma." They answered, turning with a big grin on their face. An old quilt was folded on the couch and on the wall their were crocheted works of art in wooden frames. "It's so cozy, it's really cute." Their compliment made him relax. He motioned for them to sit, which they did gladly. He was quick to make them tea, some for himself to calm his nerves. There was a silence that settled over them when he finally came to sit beside them, comfortable for them, anxious for him. They spared a glance at him staring at his tea cup, reaching out a hand to rest on his shoulder. "Aren't you gonna take off your mask? So you can drink it?" Y/N asked. König blinked, his breath catching in his throat. "...Nein." He muttered, setting the cup on the table in front of them. Y/N frowned. "Why? It's just me..." They said in a hushed tone. "You," He swallowed. "You will not like my face." He said softly, squeezing his hands together. They sighed and put their own cup down, standing up. König's eyes followed them and his face went red as they bent, placing their hands on his knees, looking him intently in the eye. "That is bullshit, big guy. I like you way more than you think I do. And I promise your face is not gonna change that." They said intensely. König blinked at them before he looked at his lap again. He inhaled deeply through his nose before he bit down on his tongue. Like ripping off a bandaid, he wanted to get the pain of their rejection off as fast as possible, so he tore off the mask, keeping his eyes scrunched shut. Some beats of silence left his heart palpitating. Then he felt warm palms carefully cradle his cheeks, forcing a gasp out of him. König blinked and looked at them, up, for once. Y/N's gaze trailed over his features, fingers lightly trailing over faint freckles to a scar across the bold bridge of his nose, down to the his oldest scar that ran from his right sinus to his chapped lips. A smile grew over their face as they took in his visage. "I knew it. You're one pretty man, Romeo." They purred quietly. The man's eyes widened before his breathing stopped, eyes fluttering as they pressed a gentle kiss to his nose. "Du bringst mich noch ins Grab…" He shivered. They chuckled and pecked his forehead. "Don't even think about it mister, you're staying alive for as long as I need for you to love yourself as much as I love you."

✧Alex Keller✧

Alex was a seasoned soldier. He'd constantly perceived through the unthinkable, cut it close with death more times than he could count. Shot, stabbed, kidnapped twice, inhaled complex chemicals, and managed to escape with his life after he detonated a bomb. Missing a leg, but alive. Maybe he was lucky, maybe it was the opposite. Either way, anyone who had the nerve to imply Alex as anything but impressive and strong was a fool, completely. The blond was someone any general would take pride in. So what on earth could take out a man with such an amazing track record? The flu. The answer was the flu. Alex practically never got sick, but when his fellow soldiers began to notice his less than fantastic state, it was hard to deny. Pale, clammy, a headache from hell. He couldn't do drills as well because his joints were sore and the coughing wasn't ideal. He managed to brush off concerns up until he threw up in the communal trashcan in mess hall. Finally, Alex's commander dragged him to the medbay. "Just sit down, Keller. Fucks sake." Julia grumbled as she set him on a bed. "I'm tellin' ya, I just need some NyQuil and I'll be fine-" Alex was cut off by harsh coughing fit that made the woman cringe. "With all due respect, Keller, you sound like you deep throated a cactus. Just let the medic look at'cha. We just got a new one, they're lovely, you'll be in good hands." She promised, making him sighed and rub his face, putting some pressure on his eyes, hoping it'd help the pain behind them. Alex hummed as he heard Julia greet a new voice. He dropped his hands in his lap and blinked, looking over at the new medic, not wanting to be rude. He couldn't tell if the warmth in his face was just the fever anymore though, not when he got a good look at them. They approached and set a clipboard down, standing in front of him, putting on some gloves as they smiled. Julia motioned to him. "This is Alex Keller, Keller, our medic, Plaster." She said. Alex rose an eyebrow and looked at them, watching them laugh. "It's my callsign. Brits call band aids, plasters." They explained. "And they'll fix all your cracks." Julia snorted, making the medic roll their eyes. Plaster grabbed a thermometer and put a cover on it. "Alrighty, Alex, just put this under your tongue. Don't want a soldier with such an impressive resume to be out of commission for too long." Alex blinked slowly as the plastic rested under his tongue. His brain was essentially mush, and the pretty face in front of him wasn't helping. "Heard o' meh?" He slurred tiredly, making them snort. "I have! Not everyday a man willingly blows up a building full of gas, much less live through it. Man of steel, eh?" They asked. Alex motioned to his leg. "Knee down." He replied, smiling when they laughed, taking out the thermometer. "Oh boy, 100.8. You, sir, should've been here much sooner. I'll get you some antibiotics and some NyQuil." Plaster said as they shined a light in his eyes. Alex lazily opened his mouth so they could check the back of his throat, heart thumping harshly as they carefully held his jaw, clicking their tongue sympathetically. "Poor thing, your throat looks pretty bad." He hummed. He gazed up at them as they carefully put a stethoscope to his chest. "Pulse sounds a bit quick." They mumbled. "'s your fault." Alex replied. Julia's jaw dropped open as Plaster tilted their head with a little chuckle. "Oh is it now? Well I'm sorry, sir." They replied. "Mm-mm, not complainin'." Alex shrugged. Plaster shook their head and wrote his prescription down, handing it to him before turning to Julia. "Make sure he stays in bed. And get some rest, casanova." They patted his leg. Alex gave a weak salute as Julia dragged him away, not paying attention to how she poked fun at him. "You're gonna feel so embarrassed when you can think straight." Alex shrugged as he stumbled beside his commander. "I dunno, I think they liked me." He said proudly. Julia rolled her eyes.

Getting a leg blown off was an extremely painful endeavor, obviously. Alex had a whole half of a limb blasted off at the knee, then he had to have it heal, then there were months of getting used to having his limb missing. And even after growing used to having his leg amputated, the pain was far from done. Excluding ghost pains, there was always some painful soreness left after using his leg all day. After some time, there was a level of pain that he considered normal, and therefore powered through. But there were other times where it was agony. It reminded him of the darker fairy tales he’d been told by his great grandmother. Like the Little Mermaid, how every step was agony, rather than the sparkly version Disney gave. He still tried to tough it out, but it really felt like hell. Leading him to limp to the medic’s area, hoping to hide from his bosses for a bit and perhaps ask for something for the pain. He winced as the pain became sharp, sitting on a cot in the quiet medbay. He sighed as he heard footsteps coming his way. He glanced up and saw their medic, the one that cared for him when he had the flu. “Mr.Keller, what brings you her- oh you look bad, what’s going on?” Their joyful tone quickly turned to worry as they approached him. He sighed and motioned to his leg. Quickly, the nodded and wrote something down. “Give me a moment. If it’s alright with you, I’d like you to remove your leg and compression sock.” They said. He did as told. There was both pain and relief when the heavy metal was pulled away. He set it beside him and tried to place pressure on his thigh. Plaster came back with some ICYHOT and a cold wrap. “Can I put my hands on you?” They asked softly. Alex rose an eyebrow, smiling when they rolled their eyes playfully. “Not like that.” They scolded, though they weren't truly upset. Alex chuckled and nodded, rub his his face. They put some gloves on and some of the Icyhot. Their hands were delicate as they carefully applied pressure to the muscle of his amputated limb. He winced and sighed in repeat as it both soothed and ached. All the while, they gentle cooed and comforted him through the pain. By the time the frigid compress was wrapped around his leg, he was exhausted. Alex went to stand, hobble his way back to his room, only for a hand on his chest to stop him. He looked up at them, being met with a gentle smile and a light push. He listened and laid back, though confused. “I think you should rest for a bit.” They explained softly, patting his chest. “And…you’d rather me do it here than my room?” He asked with a teasing grin, watching them laugh under their breath. “Come on, casanova. Give a lonely medic some company, would you?” They asked. Their tone made his chest tighten and his cheeks hurt from smiling. “Sure thing, doc.”

Alex sighed after taking a large gulp of beer from a pint glass, looking around the bar he'd popped into. Usually, bar outings were for celebration after a mission, this time though, he came alone. He wasn't there to mope or feel bad about himself, he just didn't want the loud commotion of his entire team. He was an extrovert, yes, but sometimes the company he wanted was more quiet, less straining. He looked at the foam residue in his glass, zoning out to whatever music was playing over the speakers. Some new-age country song if he had to guess. "Well, hello stranger." A voice near him made him flinch and raise his head, feeling butterflies erupt at the sight of his favorite medic. He grinned and turned to them a bit. "Plaster, hey, what're you doing here?" He asked. They waved their hand and came to sit beside him in the booth, not really minding the close proximity. "None of that callsign nonsense, Keller. You know my name, you can use it off base." They replied, setting a tequila sunrise on the table. The man hummed, the warmness in his cheeks now not only the alcohol. "Well, Y/N, what brings you here?" He asked. "A drink and the curiosity of American bars. The stories were right, it is filthy here." They commented, making him laugh and nod. "Well, so is all of America really." He hummed. They rose an eyebrow at that, though the held their question as he took another swig of beer, only taking a quick second to glance at the way his Adam's apple moved. "Coming from a man with an American flag on his arm, I hear you give your country quite a lot of shit." The medic rested their chin in their hand, eyeing him curiously as he glanced at his tattoo. "It's burning for a reason. I love my country but...I also don't. I...I love the idea of America, what it was supposed to be. What it is? Not so much." He admitted slowly. Y/N frowned as they watched his face fall. They could take a million guesses on what made him feel that way, he'd probably answer with an 'all of the above'. Instead, they reached over and patted his leg with a kind smile. "Well, there are plenty of places I can think of that would take an American, if you're able to handle the jokes on your accent." They said softly. Alex's throat tightened at the kind hand resting over his jean-clad thigh. It wasn't sexual by any means, but it still made his skin grow goosebumps. "Yeah? Would you be willing to take in this one legged stray?" He asked with a teasing tone. Y/N chuckled, but they nodded as well. "I'm sure I could take care of you real well." They whispered softly, barely audible over the commotion of bar life. Alex swallowed and suddenly the pressure on his leg became a little more dangerous. But the last thing he wanted as to pull away. Instead, he let out a breathy laugh, one a bit shaky. "Don't make a promise you can't keep, doc. I'm always getting into trouble." He replied. They tilted their head, an innocent motion with a layer of mischief. "I'll get you out of it." They replied. He knew they'd both go back to the base that night, that nothing would happen, given the sensibility of not making rash decisions with alcohol present. But, despite not even being buzzed, he already had his plan to play up a hang over, just so he'd have an excuse in the morning. Knowing full well they'd see right through him.

Alex was a hardened soldier. He'd been shot, stabbed, nearly blown up, inhaled toxic chemicals, and he'd had his leg blown off. Withstanding it all and still alive, still breathing and, at least somewhat, functioning. But there were days when the air filling his lungs felt monotonous and the lack of sound felt like death. Usually on nights where he was on leave. The first night was always the same, with him so exhausted he'd pass out and wouldn't have the ability to overthink. The longer he was alone, the worse it got, until his mind started to shot off thoughts he didn't really want to indulge. Counting the times he'd cheated death, the amount of lives he might've saved with better hindsight, whether or not there was another side, would it be as quiet as his home? He had friends, people he knew cared for him, but none of those dynamics felt right for voicing this part of himself. The deeper, more frightening bits. Or, well, he didn't have that before. In a moment of weakness, as he felt the weight of his life and its debatable worth rest too potently on his ribs, he grabbed his phone and hit a contact, a colleague. His work always spilled into his life, he didn't see why it had to stop with them. Guilt ate at him when they answered, hearing their tired tone reminding him of how late it was. But they didn't complain, they didn't scold or scoff. Their voice remained sweet, so worried for him, so caring. It aided all the more in having him cave, having him ask for a lifeline. It was raining cats & dogs and yet they only took twenty minutes to be at his door. He was still in his sleepwear, a pair of basketball shorts and a grey tank-top he'd had for a near decade. His leg was off, using his crutch, albeit begrudgingly. No words were shared as he watched them remove their shoes, water dripping off their coat as they hung it on the rack. This would've been the first time they'd actually be in his home, but he wasn't particularly concerned with their opinion of his awful décor choices. Y/N turned and looked at him with worry in their gaze. Again, silently, they took the hand that wasn't supported on the crutch and carefully pulled him to the couch. "Bad night?" They finally spoke, sitting down beside him. Alex nodded and rubbed his eyes. "Sorry, I dunno why I called-" They cut him off with a hand on his shoulder. He turned to them with exhaustion in his face. Y/N sighed sadly, raising their hand to hold his face gently in their palm. He melted into it immediately. There was something supernaturally soothing of human warmth, something real, something alive. "You trust me, starboy?" They asked quietly, thunder rumbling in the sky as he nodded. He mourned the loss of their hand as they situated a throw pillow on the end of the couch, moving to lay down with their back slightly elevated by the arm of the furniture. He watched them look back at him, then, with open arms, they beckoned him. It was a step too intimate for coworkers, bordering past friends, and he didn't care. He practically tossed his mobility aid away and slid over. Their chest became his pillow as he slotted between them and the back of the couch, feeling them grab the folded blanket he always left out, draping it over him. He let out a shaky sigh when their nails met his scalp. "Easy, casanova. Let me take care of you." They whispered. Alex let out a huff-like laugh. "You got it, doc..."

#call of duty #call of duty mwii #modern warfare #modern warfare x reader #call of duty x reader #alejandro vargas x reader #rodolfo x reader #alejandro vargas #rodolfo rudy parra #konig x reader #cod konig #alex keller #alex keller x reader #cod x gn reader #fluff

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wizzdot · 3 months ago

Text

The Patron Saint of One Way Trips

Ch19

Description: Yay - we have the 'Alone' Mission - I hope my Spanish translations don't get too difficult - I'm trying to make it feel as if we, as the reader, are finding it difficult to communicate - hence the purposeful brokenness of it all. Anyway - Laika gets caught... what happens next....?

*Laika's (Y/N's) POV*

He wanted me.. specifically me... why?!

I must have left the room just in time. Everything that had happened up to now had been part of Graves' sick plan.. why hadn't I noticed?! He sent Oz to drop me at the room so he knew exactly where I was.. He allowed Johnny to go in undercover, probably hoping that he didn't make it out. He took 'air support' probably with no intention to actually help.. I hate him. I fucking hate him.

FUCK!

Get your head back in the game, mutt. Find Johnny. Beat yourself up later..

I follow behind two Shadows, pretending to be with them. We seem to arrive to a large cluster of houses. Some Shadow soldiers have already arrived, guns blazing. Civilians are screaming, children crying and dogs barking. It was horrible. Families are being massacred. I feel sick to my stomach.

My comms set starts sounding within my mask, I don't know how to work it so I pat around looking for controls. I find something that feels like a button. I press it a few times and it seems to change the channel of the radio. I hear several American voices shouting for back up at the North Plaza, and others looking for 'the Brits', some stations were still back at the base, organising the prisoners. Find Johnny.

I continue to flick through the stations until I hear a very crackly "Ghost, this is 7-1 in the blind.. how copy?". It's Johnny.

I almost scream his name out loud before remembering that I had to be smart about this. I'm shocked when a Shadow comes towards me and elbows me "search this house with me - stay sharp, think the Brits are close. He couldn't have made it far. You go upper floor, I'll do downstairs. Shoot first, ask questions later" My eyes widen at his instructions but I nod, not wanting to raise any suspicion.

I open the door and head upstairs with my gun raised. I turn onto the upper landing and enter the first closed bedroom. A family of four are crouched behind the bed, sobbing and shaking. They start hyperventilating when I arrive. A pair of Beta's, probably husband and wife, and their two young children. I swallow the lump in my throat, and quickly raise my finger to my mouth, gesturing to them to stay quiet.. "shhh - please shush.." I beg them. "I'm not going to hurt you.." Fuck, they don't understand.. FUCK.

"Uhm.. Amistosa..." I point at myself again "Amistosa" I whisper. 'Friendly' is the only word I can think of for the time being, my mind too frazzled to remember any more of my, already limited, Spanish vocabulary. They seem to calm down a little bit before heavy footsteps start climbing the stairs.

I take out my knife and gesture to the family to stay quiet and stay hidden. I step to the edge of the doorway and wait for the noisy Shadow to arrive.

"Anything up here, Shadow..?" he bellows, half way up the stairs. Stupid man..

I stay silent, and thankfully, so does the family. The father has his arms wrapped around the children, hiding them from view.

As the Shadow reaches the door to look in, his gun turns the corner first. I grab it, jamming it upwards into his chin. He tries to regain control, but I've already ran my knife through his throat. He slumps quickly and I drag him away from the family. I remove his gun and other weapons from him and step back into the room.

"Do you speak english..?" I try asking the Beta man.. he shakes his head, clearly terrified and confused.

"uhm.. puede...can you... puede-" I make finger guns and pretend to pull the trigger. I can't remember the word for shoot.. but I think he gets the message. He frantically nods. I hand him the spare gun so he can at least protect his family.

"No te muevas... uhm...peligro afuera" I say in very broken Spanish - don't move.. there's danger outside - he understands, nodding."Gracias.. gracias Salvadora" I shake my head. I don't want their thanks.. and I certainly am no saviour..

"¡Esperar!" the woman shouts as I turn to leave. Why does she want me to wait..? She hesitantly stands up and rips a large piece of fabric from her dress. I frown at her, confused. She approaches me as if I am going to flee, hands out as if placating a wild animal.

She ties it around my upper arm, where I usually wrapped my hanky. "Identificación - Amistosa.." she explains.. it takes me a second to translate it in my head before I realise she had used the green fabric as identification.. so she knows I'm friendly.. I nod and give a tiny smile. It was useless seeing as my face is covered with the mask..

I hear commotion from outside. I give the family a final glance before I rush back down the stairs. I step out onto the street and see blood, at about eye level, brushed along the exterior wall of the house across the street. Johnny..?

He must be near. Unless that's someone else's blood.

I try the radio again and can't find the blind channel. I silently move around the town, feeling confident to pass and Shadows without hiding. They were frantic, shooting every civilian in their way. I carry on pecking them off one by one, silently, giving the civilians American weapons as I go. I reach a church square and settle behind a wall. Shadows seem to have gathered here. I try finding a station on the comms again, maybe it had been damaged in the rain... It suddenly crackles to life again. It's Graves.

"Keep your heads on swivels for these fuckin' Brits.." One of them has been arming Civvies - we have a small uprising at the back of town, looks like some of them are trained cops, they're making progress through the Southern streets. Stay sharp Shadows..Lost some good soldiers today.."

Fuck.. we had Civilians coming this way. I turn and head to the back of town. I needed to redirect them. They were heading for a massacre. The Shadows had gathered to corner them, waiting with heavy artillery and sheer numbers.

I push myself as fast as I can run. I can hear marching, the rain water creating a splash every time there is movement. I run straight across the crossroads, not realising the armed locals were marching my way. A flood of stray bullets fly in my direction. I narrowly miss them by running behind the next house.

"Alto al fuego!" I hear - I know that one.. it means hold fire. "Chica..eres tú?" I hear from my hiding spot. I do something stupid. I turn the corner and present myself in front of the, understandably, angry mob.

"¿hablar Inglés?" I ask, in a dodgy Spanish accent. Please someone.. someone must speak fuckin' English.

An older Beta man steps forward. "Yes - I speak English.." A weight lifts from my shoulders.. "Thank God.. we need to turn around.. the Shadows are waiting for you. It'll be a massacre.."

"What is she saying??" one of the crowd shouts in broken English - the older man translates the information I had given him.

"So what is the plan, Chica? And why should we trust you? You are Shadow scum as well.." I gulp as the younger Alpha man steps forward with his gun raised. A man steps forward then. It's the Beta man who I had helped... his wife had given me the green fabric for identification. He had remembered..

After a minute or so of rushed, angry Spanish rambling that I can't pick up, they turn to me. "what is your plan? I am told we are to trust you.."

"Are you prepared to fight... to die..." I ask, darkly. A chorus of 'Sí's' call out.

"Okay, we need to hurry. They are expecting us down this street" I point in the direction they are waiting for the ambush.

"We need to turn around and get them from the back. We need to go now, or they'll come looking for us. We can't lose the element of surprise.. we are massively outnumbered" I explain. The older man translates and the small army turn and start heading in the opposite direction. Well, they're determined at least...

We quickly approach the square where the Shadows had set up. I call to my small group of around twelve men to be silent and hold position. We needed to be closer before initiating. We can't afford to give them time to respond. I creep forward on my own, testing the distance and cover. This would do. I gesture with my hand for the men to move up to my position. They listen and do as ordered. This was weird, being the one in charge...

"On three.." I whisper, holding up three fingers. I lower one finger. I lower the second. I take my hand away and raise my gun.

After another beat, bullets spray forward and Shadows fall like dominoes.

"WHAT THE FUCK" I hear Graves' voice cut through the loud noise of bullets.

"C'mon Shadows, they want to fight, let's give it to 'em!" he yells.

The Shadows re position and start firing back in a more organised fashion. I pat my pockets of my stolen tac-vest. YES! Grenades! I pull the pin and hurl it towards the soldiers.

BOOM

*Ghost's POV*

I'd been sitting up in the church spire for a while, guiding Johnny through the town. He was injured. I'd managed to guide him through the tunnels. He has eyes on the church now but there are Shadows swarming everywhere. Armoured vehicles and barbed wire. They'd set up a defensive line. This wasn't just for me and Johnny. Something else must be brewing... I set my scope and get eyes on Johnny. I tell him what's going on through the blind channel. All of a sudden, gunfire rings out below. "What's that LT?" Johnny asks me..

"Look's like some Mexican cops have rolled out of bed to try and defend their town.. brave fuckers.. won't last long against these killers though.."

"Nothin' like a bit of hope, LT" - "Let's concentrate on gettin' you back here first Johnny.."

"I'll use the fight as a distraction and run across, aye LT?" - "Yep, sounds good - wait a second Johnny..."

"What is it, LT?" - "Looks like the Civvies have a Shadow on their side.."

"Even he cannae defend Graves' war crimes then, eh?"

"At least one of them has morals, Johnny. Was startin' to think they were all evil bastards!"

"Aye LT, likewise, sounds like the only good one'll be deed soon anyway.. pity that!"

"Head back in the game, Johnny. The Shadows are distracted. Make a run in five seconds. Mexican Shadow is pulling a pin on a grenade - the blow will give you cover"

"Aye, LT, Copy"

*Laika's (Y/N's) POV*

BOOM

The gunfire stops momentarily before the remaining, smaller group of Shadows start shouting. I hear a familiar grunt and then the Shadow standing near a door to a house says "Got one near the church.." Johnny.

"Kill him" Graves orders loudly through comms.

A single whistle pings through the air and the Shadow falls. I see Johnny stand and make his way toward the church. He is a couple of hundred meters out but he is so so close. The Shadows take their attention away from us and round towards Johnny. I shout an order at them "Get the Shadows, leave the Brit!!" I get another chorus of agreements. I try to catch up with Johnny but I'm too far behind. Fighting with other Shadows and winding my way around the barbed wire and road block slows me down significantly. I start to panic.. I wasn't going to catch him..

I see Johnny on the church steps up ahead with a couple of Shadows still on his tail. I can't distract him by shouting his name. That would be a stupid thing to do. I then see the Lieutenant climb the metal fence surrounding the building. They start sprinting away from me. Ghost is looking for vehicles to use to flee. Clever. Why didn't I think of that..?

THUD

I fall to the ground, splashing in the wet, bloody cobbled streets, the skin on my knees bursting open from the impact.. I wince at the sudden pain.

Graves stares down at me.. "Well well well.." he tutts, ripping the mask off of my face. "Look who we have here then..."

I turn to see a pickup truck driving speedily away.

They were safe.. I release a deep breath that I didn't know I was holding.. I'm snapped back to Graves when he kicks me in the gut.

"How strange.. y'see, Laika.. I started thinkin' you were a Russian mole tryin' to get intel on the 141..." he chuckles sadistically.. "We thought you could be useful to us so we did a little diggin'.. turns out you're a missing asset from Russia.. kept that a secret huh..?"

I gulp, he keeps his heavy boot on my stomach so I couldn't get up even if I tried.

"Does anyone know the truth about you..? Or kept it a secret..? Think they'd see you different if they knew some of the shit you're responsible for huh?"

Tears pool in my eyes and my chin wobbles.

Graves clicks his tongue off of the roof of his mouth, tutting at me again.. "now now, don't cry sweetheart. Normally, you'd be dead already.. but Shepherd seemed quite interested when it was reported that one of our Shadow Company had gone rogue in the streets of Mexico... wait till I hear his reaction when I tell him I've caught a Russian rat! He is going to be pleased.." he laughs.

"Now, get up and come with me.. I don't want to have to be rough with you sweetheart. Don't want to ruin that pretty face of yours.." he says, pretending that he is nice..

Get FUCKED

I nod, obediently, pretending to comply. What was it I was told again...? Disobedience is punished. He would have read that on my file.

I need to play into his hands here. Play it smart, mutt...

He chuckles, "God, they told me you liked following orders, obedient little girl, huh. Bet the Captain likes havin' you around.." he says wiggling his eyebrows in a suggestive way.

"Just how obedient are you, sweetheart..? I guess I'll have to find out later. But orders are orders. You are to be detained.. come along now.."

Jeez, this guy loved the sound of his own voice..

"Yes, commander" I act, feigning obedience, he shakes his head, smiling in amazement.

"Got you trained already, sweetheart!" he laughs.

I glance to my left and see a group of retreating Mexicans. There looks to be a decent sized group left - hopefully they hadn't lost too many innocent civilians tonight, somehow I doubt it..

I'm pushed into a vehicle and driven back to the Vaqueros head quarters. I keep my head down, staring at my lap the entire way. The adrenaline starts leaving my system.

Now all that I was left with was fear. Fear, and a cold feeling I couldn't shake..

*Johnny's POV*

Simon and I were safely out of dodge

He is driving like a fuckin' maniac but I couldn't really care less. My arm hurts like a bitch. I hope Laika is safe at the base, hopefully she has found Rudy..

"LT, you made good time through the town, how'd you manage that..?" I ask, thinking of how quickly he must have moved through all of those houses.

"What do you mean, Johnny? I only met a few Shadows, then went straight into the tunnel system.. I'd been at the church since you first comm'd me" He replies, confused..

"What..? So it wasn't you who had gone through the houses and left fuckin' civvies armed with Shadow guns..?"

"No, Johnny. I told ya', I went straight to the church.."

"Weird, they told me to look for the Green Shadow.. one of them spoke English.. poor terrified bastard almost shot me before he realised I wasn't a Shadow.."

"A green Shadow, Johnny?" - "Aye LT, that mean anythin' to you..?"

"Kind of.. The Shadow leading the Mexican civvies had some sort of dark fabric round his arm..Might have been green but the rain made it impossible to tell. I was too far away.. Wasn't standard Shadow kit though - that much I know"..

"Strange.. oh well, Graves would have already killed the poor Bastard anyway. S'no a good look to go against your own team.. Looked like the brave fella managed to tap a good few Shadows too. Good on him.."

"Yeah Johnny, agreed. Good on that man.."

#abo dynamics #john mctavish x reader #john price x reader #john soap mactavish #kyle garrick x reader #omega reader #poly 141 #simon riley x reader #task force x reader #kyle gaz garrick

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