#cod mw ii fluff

[m0chac0ffee]

"What are you doing?"

"Coloring in your tattoo sleeve."

"I know, but... why?"

"Because I want to."

Simon scoffed playfully as he moved his arm closer so you had easier access to his entire sleeve, and willingly turned his arm whenever you needed him to.

"'M done!"

"Very colorful..."

"Yeah, you like it?"

He nodded his head. But he didn't just like it, he absolutely loved it.

[lucifermonsii]

Horangi x Male Reader

Reader is mentioned to be bigger/taller then Horangi

Pure fluff

Horangi who occasionally teases you and gives you witty remarks. Bullying you here and there. But nothing serious of course.

Horangi who's clingy and follows you around the base. Doesn't matter where you're going. To the cafeteria? He'll be there. To the training area to spar? Oh he'd be lying on the mat waiting for you to spar with him.

Horangi who's an arrogant little bitch that bites and barks with no hesitation. You insulted him about his glasses being tilted? He'll call you and how you even got the courage to be with him even though he's the one following you.

Horangi who's a BIG cuddler. You can't prove wrong this man LOVES being a little spoon. The way you cradle him and caress his back so lovingly while giving kisses on his forehead has filled a hole in his heart he never knew he had.

Horangi who likes to talk about you to König. Literally won't shut up about you and forcing König to just stand there and absorve all the information he has to say.

Horangi who loves being seated on your lap. He feels so petite sitting there like a little kitty as you're doing anything, filling some paper work? He'll be sitting there on your lap with his arms around your neck.

Horangi who loves whenever you praise him. It makes him feel so special whenever he's called sweetheart or kitty. Gives him butterflies everytime, it doesn't matter how long you two have been together.

Horangi who wears your clothes whenever he has the chance to. Doesn't matter how big they were, the bigger the better they say. Him sitting on your chair with your jacket on and his feet on your desk when you came back into your room? You didin't even know how he got in..

[2kiran]

I read through your rules and i think my request should be fine but even so, please let me know if you don't wanna write it!

If you're still doing requests... can you write something for Price x male reader where Reader's a bit younger than him and he's never drank before ever. And he hides it to not seem like a loser or anything (lol) but when the team goes out drinking after a mission he gets served higher alcohol content bc they thought he'd be a heavy drinker?

No smut, just maybe hurt/comfort and fluff? Ignore this if you wouldn't like to <3

꒦⁺ DRUNK (NOT AGAIN) —— JOHN PRICE

modified 30.08.24 | HURT/COMFORT

content ˖ ࣪ ˖ affectionate price, male reader, may be read as platonic or romantic, reader is 2+ years younger, descriptions of injuries, mentioned violence, tf141 included, insecurity (love, towards r), drinking, tipsy reader, crying (r), kissing & hugging

The mission was successful. The medevac helicopter was arriving soon, allowing time for a small discussion. Only minutes prior, it was havoc, alerting all of you. The enemy had set a trap, causing a few fuck-ups on your side.

Soap clutched at his side with a cloth, “Aye cap, think we can go for some drinks ‘fter this?” He let out a pained grunt when he applied too much pressure.

Price sighed in response, opening a box in the deserted warehouse that had the necessary equipment for a few stitches. “As long as you don’t pass out right now.”

Gaz sent a wary glance at their way, dabbing a cotton that was soaked in antibiotic ointment on his slashes. Ghost, who stayed in his own corner, only had a few small cuts. Your own injuries were long forgotten as you registered their words.

The problem with their agreement was that you’ve never drank, not even one sip. Ever displaying a good image of yourself, you didn’t want to find out how you were when you’re drunk. Alcoholic beverages have never been one of your interests. Being aware of the fact that people who were younger than you spent their precious time clubbing and drinking away their problems without a care made it worse.

You didn’t want anyone to view you negatively for that, especially them. That included not telling a single soul and rejecting invitations to parties. You just didn’t want to be seen as a ‘kill joy’ when you tell them that you’ve never touched alcohol.

It also meant avoiding questions from drunkards and lying when they’re pestering you too much. The constant ‘what if’s of being just average ate away at your brain. You didn’t want your team to see you as a good-for-nothing loser that they could easily discard at any given time. Maybe if you left they—

“Hey.”

You didn’t respond.

“Hey.”

One, two, three, four seconds pass.

“Look at me.” You blinked.

Your vision refocused, blurry gaze dissipating. You had zoned out. Price stood in front of you, urging you to tilt your head to look up at him. The blinding lights hung on the ceiling, leaving prominent shadows across the room. The silhouette gracefully traced over his features.

The both of you were in the infirmary, all patched up and wounds cleaned. Left alone together, away from the others. “Sorry. You were saying?” You asked, embarrassed warmth spreading across your cheeks.

A ghost of a smile quirked from his cheeks, “Are you okay?” His voice was hoarse from exhaustion.

“Yeah, I’m good. Are you?” You slightly stumbled over your words as an ache from your side had you stilling. He nodded, eyes traveling over your form. His usual sharp eyes softened upon continuing his inspection of you as if you were made of extra fragile porcelain. The certain look in his eyes and how his attention lingers on you could be compared on how he stares at his precious hat for far too long.

“We’re going to a bar. You joining, love?” A tentative question, which makes you ponder on answering. You hum in agreement, not wanting to ruin the moment.

-

Maybe you should’ve rejected the offer like you always did.

The bar was dimly-lit, lights darting throughout the space, while slow, almost seductive music danced from the speakers. There were several people in the bar, including the bartenders. All harboring the same mysteriousness that you took for suspicion. It wasn’t quiet, booming laughter erupted from some, while the rest had their voice hushed in a whisper. Most of them were drunk, you noted.

“Finally.” Soap dramatically sighed, stretching his arms as he chooses a booth.

“It’s really been that long?” Gaz responded in a question to soap’s enthusiasm. Surprisingly, Ghost joined. He wasn’t going to drink for the sake of privacy, of course, the sergeants just managed to convince force him. The three sat close to each other while you and price were next to one another. It made you tingle in anticipation and fright.

A waiter approached, and they all responded with ‘something heavy’. You gulped nervously, telling the man the same thing.

Every minute that passed had you fidgeting, made you begin to bounce your leg up and down as you waited and waited and waited. You itched to tell them the truth, but you’ll only look like a coward. The others spoke about nonsense and such, while the captain’s attention was on you.

He was aware that something was wrong, but he couldn’t point his finger at what it could be. The impulsive side of his brain wanted to ask you directly, right here in front of the team. But he knew how closed off and irritable you could get in situations like these, so he rather keep his mouth shut.

The waiter arrived with your drinks on a tray, foam sizzling and a dented lemon on the rim of the glass. It whiffed of high worth, the house of the liquid appearing expensive itself. The stem was thinner than you originally thought it would be. It was appetizing, and you start to understand why people spend their time on drinking this. However, you’ve heard of people’s first times, most of them stating that it tasted bitter in the beginning.

The sergeants grabbed their drinks like starving animals, nearly spilling it on themselves. You examined their expression, their brows furrowed as they gulped down the first few sips before their face relaxed.

“Feeling drunk yet?” Soap questioned, gaze directed towards the captain. He began sipping away at his too, seemingly unbothered by all of the alcoholic content. He pulled away from his glass, “Could have this all day.”

“You gonna drink that?” His monotone voice suddenly placed its attention on you. Responding with a ‘right’ before gripping the glass, you copy the way they were holding it.

One taste couldn’t hurt, right?

Unknowingly, you did it a little too eagerly.

“Yeaaah! That’s the spirit.” Soap cheered on and Gaz let out a giggle at that. Ghost’s focus was on scanning the room for suspicious activity that could possibly harm all of you. Price thankfully wasn’t paying attention on you for once.

You could definitely get used to not having to tolerate him stupidly looking at you like you wronged him. They downed their drinks and you followed suit.

It was a rash decision, you soon learned, as your body began feeling warm. Even if it was the slightest of breathing, you could pick up on it. And is it just you or is the music a lot louder than before?

The reality crashed down on you, hitting you like a truck. You were always awfully attempting to please others, but you’ve never thought if that’s what you truly wanted. You feel like a loser. Drinking even though you knew you didn’t want to.

With you being painfully unaware in the state you were in, Price took notice in the change of behavior. Your eyes were watering and your lips were subtly trembling.

Everything felt too overwhelming, too loud, too bright. It was all too much for you. Barely mumbling a ‘I’m going to the restroom’ before you practically sprinted to the only place you could possibly find comfort. They didn’t seem to hear over their obnoxious argument about which weapon was superior and what sucked ass.

Price waited a few minutes, and then telling the group that he needed to use the toilet too. He noticed that you were stumbling in your footing, strange for someone who’s drank a lot more than this. You were only halfway through your drink before you seemed out of it. Maybe it was because of how long your missions lasted, making your tolerance become a little skimpy. It was even weirder to him how you left the door ajar.

Believing that you were alone, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. Your tears began streaming down your cheeks, lightly huffing in pained breaths. You despised this feeling.

Price carefully pushed the door open, exposing your vulnerability to your captain. Looking up at the mirror, you gasped. Quickly realizing your mistake in forgetting to lock the door, but it was too late.

“Love...” he began, eyes boring into yours in concern. Striding towards you, he hugged you from behind. A staring contest made from the mirror. “What’s wrong?”

You sniffed, trying to wipe away your tears but failing as more spilled, “I-I can’t—I’ve, I’ve never drank before and I-I wanted to impress you all.” He stopped himself from immediately speaking about how you would be always perfect despite something so little as not drinking, letting you continue, “I d-didn’t tell you be-because,” a hiccup, “I tho-thought you’d see me as a good-for-nothin’.” Sobs wrecked through your being shamefully as you slurred your words.

“Love.” He said firmly as you opened your mouth to apologize, preventing the words from escaping you. “The team and I would never belittle you.” He kisses your cheek, rubbing your sides to soothe you with his thumbs. “Nothin’ wrong with it, okay? It’s not your fault. Don’t apologize.” Another kiss, using his knuckle to wipe away stray tears, “don’t ever be afraid to speak up ‘bout somethin’ like this.”

You hiccuped more, guilt searing within. He doesn’t stop talking yet.

“Stop feeling guilty about it. There’s no shame in that, others who think otherwise are just little shits. You’re better than them.” He kissed your jaw, ever showering you with affection in any way he was able to. He grabbed your hand, holding it to intertwine his fingers with yours. He tilted his head back up to kiss the trail of wetness on your cheek, hushing your weak sobs gently.

“Let’s go order some food, yeah? And we should get some water too to help the tipsiness. Just let me know if you want to try drinking again so I can help you through it. C’mon, love.” A smile spreads across his lips when your eyes light up in appreciation. He was happy that he had you as much as you were happy to have him.

If soulmates existed, he was yours.

[l0velylecter]

how the cod:mw ii men show their love for you

— how the cod:mw ii men show their love for you + reference gifs ! rating : g for general and safe for work ( sfw ! ) pairing :  reader / simon ‘ghost’ riley,  reader / john "soap" mactavish , reader / alejandro vargas, reader /  captain john price, reader /  kyle "gaz" garrick , reader / phillip graves ( note : while descriptions show gn! reader but gifs used for reference shows f! reader ) tags : kissing, hand holding, hugging, fluff, pure fluff  fandom : cod mwii warnings : no additional warnings

01 |Even when he’s sore from the field or flat-out exhausted from month-long stakeouts, Soap still finds the strength to carry you on his back whenever you’re together. You can be out for a casual stroll when he asks if you’re tired, even if you just left the house five minutes ago. He will always make an excuse to hoist you up his back, wanting to be as close to you as possible. He says it makes him feel strong, but not only that, but it's also because he loves how it always catches you off guard. He can start running or jumping, and he loves to hear you squeal, especially when he can use this as a chance to squeeze your ass playfully. 

02 | It could be because he’s worried, he misses you, or because he loves you, Alejandro is always reaching out for your hands. He loves to intertwine your fingers together even as you sleep. Whenever he has to reassure you, Alejandro will bring your hands to his lips and kiss them — gently, softly, whispering sweet nothings to you. He will also absent-mindedly stroke your palm with his thumb, humming to his favorite tune. And when he has nightmares at night, you would always be quick to reach for his hand, letting him hold it even as you kiss.

03 | Just like everyone else, Price needs to be reassured, but he often acts like he doesn’t. As a captain, a leader, and a soldier, he’s always so used to just keeping everything inside. It’s not easy for him to admit defeat, and it's even worse to accept that he needs support. So his silent cry for comfort would always be through a bear hug, and it was in these moments, did you saw the love and trust he has for you reflected in the way his arms firmly hold you in place: your bodies warm and content against each other.

04 | With how kind, easygoing, and down-to-earth Gaz is, you can’t ever imagine him with a playful side. Thankfully, you’ve gone past his cool and calm exterior to discover that he’s a child at heart; so whenever you both feel on edge: either from exhaustion or the aftermath of a terrible argument, he’s always trying to cheer you up through the most creative ways. One of your favorites was when he created a makeshift water fountain in the park using the drinking taps to splash you with water, knowing that you’ve been feeling down lately with how much he’s been leaving for work. It’s good that he’s left behind a lot of good memories for you to replay in your head when he's not there, reminding you just how much you're loved by the soldier.

05 | As much as you complain to Graves about him having such a big mouth, you enjoy your little banters. Playful arguments are a way for you and Phillip to entertain yourselves. He loves how you keep him at his toes, and you adore how he’s the only person who can drive you crazy. He’s a cocky, smug, and arrogant bastard, but he’s your bastard. Besides, a little bicker here and there does wonders for the relationship and often spices things up — " You want me to shut up? Then make me, commander."

06 | It was hard to feel loved around Ghost, it was almost as if he didn’t exist. With him always away on missions, you barely spoke to each other, and as the days grew, you were starting to drift apart. The fear of having him fall out of love constantly haunts you, even while you sleep. So to one night catch him, stroking your head, gently, softly, as if not to wake you and get caught; it kept you going. Knowing that deep down, he cares. And that he was just too afraid to show you. So staying as still as you could, you pretended to sleep. So that in the midnight hour, when only the moon is awake as his witness, Simon can indulge in his feelings for you without guilt.

07 | Always too nervous in expressing what he feels around you, König resorts to saying ‘i love you through small gestures, one of them being: running his hand down your hair. He’d give your scalp a gentle caress when you’re suffering from a headache and kiss your hairline goodbye before he gets up to leave. He also thinks it’s safer than a hug because sometimes he gets too excited and needs to settle for a head pat to avoid crushing your bones. The soft strokes of his thumb remind you that when a man with the size and strength of König is this tender with you, there’s no way in the world he doesn’t love you.

a/n : and another round of fluff !! 

imagine the men of cod : mw ii getting their pictures taken with you

[mlmxreader]

Tío | platonic!Alejandro Vargas x m!reader

anonymous asked: Hello! I love your work man

Can I request Alejandro x male reader but reader is a teenager (or just younger in general) and Alejandro is an uncle figure for him

summary: Alejandro is so, so proud of the man, the soldier, that you have become.

tws: smoking, mentions of violence

Alejandro loved it when he was sent to work with the Gurkhas for a while, as it always gave him a chance to see his adopted nephew; it always gave him a chance to see the young soldier who he had taken under his wing a long while ago, and had kept an eye on ever since. The complete lack of blood relation didn't matter, as far as you and Alejandro were concerned, he was very much your uncle. The young soldier from Nepal who Alejandro had met through none other than Price, he had practically watched you grow up; from a private, to one of the most infamous Gurkhas alive, Alejandro's pride in you could only ever be compared to that of a father's. He took the chance to visit when he could.

Six pack boxes of Red Bull sat on the desk, the ashtray half full, the stench of Marlboro cigarettes harsh in the air, the sound of 'Adrenaline' by Joe Ford and Hacktivist loud as Alejandro smiled; he found himself nodding along to the song as he admired the decorative medals and trophies on the wall. You certainly were accomplished, clearly thriving as a Gurkha. He couldn't be prouder, his hands clasped behind his back as he read the letter from high command, congratulating you on a job well done; he took a picture, and sent it to the group chat that he was in with Rudy and task force one four one, captioning it with how proud he was. But then the door opened, and Alejandro had to act quick as he stuffed his phone into his pocket, just in time for you to grab him as you hugged him tightly.

"Tío Ale!"

Alejandro grinned as he held you close to him. "(y/n)! How are you?"

"Did you see the letter?" You asked, excitement in your voice. "The one high command sent?"

"Sí, I did," he nodded. "Well done, muchacho!"

You grinned, tapping his shoulder as you pulled away, making your way to the desk so that you could light up a cigarette. "It's thanks to you, y'know, Tío."

He scoffed, sitting down at the desk and putting his feet up on it as 'Reprogram' by the same band started to play just as loudly. "How so?"

"If it weren't for you, Price wouldn't have recommended me to the Gurkhas," you explained, "if he hadn't have done that, then I wouldn't be where I am now... I owe everything to you, sāthi."

Alejandro scoffed as he shook his head, resting his hands on his stomach as he watched you for a moment; he could hardly believe that you were the young soldier from Nepal that he had met all those years ago. He wondered where the time went, wondered how the time had slipped through his fingers so quickly; he had done his best to capture it all as much as he could, suddenly wishing that he could pause time just so that you wouldn't grow up so quickly in front of him. He couldn't wipe the proud smile from his face, though, wanting to let precious time go by just so that he could try and remember the moment; he felt like a father watching his child grow up, go to school and start going out with friends, a sort of bittersweet joy and pride.

"You okay?" You asked, chuckling softly.

Alejandro shook his head. "It's nothing, sobrino... you're just growing up so fast."

You shrugged, leaning against the wall opposite him as you cleared your throat and tilted your head to the side. "Yeah, but... I'll never stop being your bhatījā."

"lo sé," he whispered, nodding. "I know, muchacho... you're getting bigger every time I see you... where'd the time go, eh?"

You couldn't help but to laugh, shaking your head and daring to sit with him, leaning on the desk as you grinned. "Slips by, don't it?"

Alejandro nodded again. "I remember when I brought you with me to meet the others in the task force and you were half asleep at the table."

"Please don't," you chuckled, shaking your head. "I'll never live that down."

He tittered. "No, you won't... I'm proud of you, niño. Really."

"I know, Tío," you murmured, nodding. "You remind me every time we're in the same room."

"I mean it," Alejandro said seriously, running a hand through his hair. "I'm really proud of you, sobrino. You've done well, really well."

You shook your head, taking a last few drags before stubbing the cigarette out in the ashtray. "You don't have to keep reminding me, y'know... I know you're proud, Tío. I know."

"I'll keep reminding you," he shrugged. "Just don't be a idiota engreído."

You laughed softly. "I won't, bhatījā... pratijñā."

"Good," he cleared his throat. "You gonna show me around?"

You nodded, practically jumping out of your seat and rushing towards the door, grinning like an idiot; Alejandro got up slowly, and when you tried to run off, he laughed as he told you to slow down, he wasn't as young as he used to be after all. But you were so excited, so eager to show him where the Gurkhas trained and lived when they weren't out on missions; he felt tears prick at his eyes, so proud of you when you showed him how they had trained you to decapitate enemies with the infamous kukri blades. He really did wonder where the time had gone between him meeting you and taking you under his wing as a young soldier, to seeing you perform flawlessly on the training fields with your kukri; you were dangerous, capable of fatally wounding someone without thinking twice, belonging to one of the most brutal, infamous, and most elite forces to exist.

But to Alejandro, you were still that young soldier from years ago that he had watched grow up. You weren't a Gurkha to him, you were his nephew, and he loved you to pieces and although you told him not to tell you so much, he really was just that proud of you.

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; spam likers WILL be blocked. as will blogs that refuse to reblog or to give feedback. if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM. don't just "like", REBLOG

[snobbybastard]

GHOST X READER FLUFF&ANGST

summary; ghost gets lost in his thoughts and realises how much he needs you

warnings; angst, suggested fwb situation, mentions of violence, hints of death at the end, that's it i think?

wordcount;2443

gender neutral reader!

No matter how much Ghost shifts and lugs around in his delightfully mosquito-free bed, he can't grasp that thread of exhaustion dancing around his head, tormenting him endlessly and settling under his sunken eyes.

It's nothing new, he always had trouble falling asleep since he first enrolled in the military— haunted by visions he wouldn't wish on his worst enemy; actually maybe he would, but that's beside the point. He might have even had trouble sleeping for a bit before that.

He had nightmares even without having to sleep.. They proved to be some of the worst ones.

Some went as far back as his very first mission, when he was young and brash and eager to prove his strength— in other words, reckless... before he got put in his place by being shoved headfirst into horrible experiences.

But what is new—, is his mind is running in complete turmoil even in his drained nature.

Not with the usual things he would fill his head with to keep himself from soul-shattering impatience, but with thoughts of you.

Like when he had found you a few months back, you had simply collapsed with your head hung low. Hands firmly pressed to your side while painful whines left your lips. He watched as you reluctantly drew your hand away, quickly replaced with his rough ones. Your palms dripping red. How your gear was stained dark crimson while you whimpered under him— who was holding you flush against his chest in an iron grip, frantically calling for evac.

Your usual confidence lingering in your eyes lost the usual spark they had, looking up at him hopelessly when he tried to stop the rapid bleeding himself.

And when you stopped grimacing in pain and your lashes had fluttered to a close, something carved a hole in his chest that day— it cut agonizingly deeper and more precise than any one of his edged blades.

He thought he had lost you.

He could have practically felt his heart come up his throat when they had to tear you away from his arms to get you medical attention.

And in the first few days when you were recovering, damn near unresponsive — he had refused to talk with anyone. Like a cat had got his tongue.

He didn't want to. But he'd always find himself visiting you in the dead of night, when everyone else was fast asleep. He needed the closure that you were still breathing, no matter how weak said breaths were.

He would stay there, stroking his thumb over your limp knuckles until the pale threads of morning slipping between the lousy curtains casted a warm hue over your feeble appearance.

Even if he cursed himself internally, he would get up and leave you before any nurses or soldiers decided to check in on your condition.

He didn't want anyone seeing him looking at you with such vunerable eyes. He thought it might have been weak, that you'd turn into another target to his enemies. The last thing he wanted is to be the cause of you being ripped from the earth.

So he ran.

No matter how many times you crossed his mind.

How many times he saw your face leaned up against his, tentative eyes looking into his sad ones, being sure to make his chest constrict in on itself.

Or how many times he remembered your feather-light touch tracing over the scars he had collected from the job. How your lips felt delicately kissing each and every one.

He felt loved in those moments.

But he kept running.

He denied your attention because he didn't even know it himself, but he cared about you.

Too much for his own liking.

But here he is, imagining sick scenarios that are keeping him wide awake, of the dangers you were, and could be put in because of him.

Inside, deep down in his gut, he has this feeling that something is wrong. That you're in danger.

And that thought alone is enough to make sure he isn't getting any shut eye.

He feels the sudden urge- need to go to your room and make sure your heart is still beating.

'Don't Do It.' His inner voice warns him, his conscience. You know, the thing that tells you what is right and wrong. Your rational thought.

'Don't Do It.' Conscience, it's your moral compass.

'Don't. Do . It.' The more he tells himself not to, the more his mind makes up pictures of your helpless eyes staring up at him, the more the worry grows.

'Do. Not. Fucking. Do. It.' It's not because he doesn't want to, god no, if it was up to him, he'd spend every waking moment at your side without any judgement, but it's not up to him, and it's because if it does end up with him showing up at your door.. if he visits you, he won't be able to stop vying for your attention and that'll be his downfall.

Probably yours too.

Then what will he do if he knows full on that the feelings mutual? What will he do when he visibly sees the disappointment on your face when he breaks the news to you, when he lets you down time and time again.

And what will he do if hes slaughtered out in the heat of battle? When he sees your sobbing figure begging him to come back, to not leave you alone in this sick world, when you cry out his name as tears stream out of your eyes. Well, in all honesty, he'll smile, not in a sadistic way, not because of the sight of seeing you grieving and mourning over the cold, lifeless corpse of his body, no, never. But he would smile because you had done something he always wanted, you done something his family couldn't do. You outlived him, you still have a full life ahead of you, to go, leave this life, find someone better (Not that you would need someone.) —and live out your days with someone who can fulfill your needs and support your desires.

Because for some reason, those opposing the great, 'immortal' , mysterious Ghost felt that slaughtering his loved ones would get to him, to bring him down. It did. Only on the inside, though. Locked away so nobody could see him spiral, to see his weaknesses. And so if he were gone first, it would remove you from enduring any excess danger you signed yourself up for.

Maybe you should just rid his infectious presence from your life.

Or worse yet, what will he do if you are the one who is struck down? What will he do when his body tenses and his face flushes at the sight of the blood pooling around your drunk with fatigue figure, your gear painted red. He really lost you this time. What will he do when he silently begs you to come back to him, holding your body close to him? Shielding your corpse from anymore potential injuries your body can obtain while he wishes it was his life draining from his body instead of yours. He would've taken that bullet for you.

Hell, he would've fought any army to protect you. Just was a bit late this time.

So how will he continue his life when the one thing he had found in his hellhole life, the one thing giving him the energy he so desperately needed from those sleepless nights, the one person who had cracked the shell of the behemoth of the monster 'Ghost', broken down the walls of a heartless killer? You had seen into his more docile, kinder emotions, you didn't see him as the feared Ghost, you saw Simon Riley. For once in all his years of unfortunately living, someone saw him as an actual person. As the little boy who would play happily without a care in the world, in the kitchen with his beloved Mother, laughing and giggling until the dreaded moment when his Father would come home and he'd retreat upstairs and lock himself in his room. He always was a Momma's boy. You saw the son of a woman who would praise him for being the most understanding boy in the world. You saw into his golden memories and embraced them. You ignored the talk and gossip of the emotionless Lietenaunts’ reputation. You made him do something he hadn't done in years, laugh. And dare he say it, it was nice.

He couldn't lose you.

The feeling of appreciation radiating off you whenever you shared glances during training or feeling your hands find eachother when you'd visit his room at night, desperate to be close with eachother and help with the night terrors. What were you appreciating? He doesn't know. For him just being there? It was a piss poor reason, but he couldn't find himself to question you about it, finding a small hint of colour settling on his face whenever you would accept whatever he had to say when he would sometimes open up to you, on his own terms of course. Or on the rare occasion, when you don't show up to his room, (like tonight) Simon worries. He'd take it to his grave before he admits it, but he worries for you, I mean, you do take up the majority of his headspace, so how could he not?

You're both the unlikely duo, having so little in common you would have to look for similarities with magnifying glass; you're everything he's not.

Well, you'd beg to differ. Sure, it might seem that way, but that's because not many people know the true personality of your cherished Simon Riley.

And so after he so selfishly tries to fight away the idea of you being put in harms way during the night, he gives up and slips out of bed, tugging his worn balaclava over his face, not because he doesn't want you to see, you've seen his face too many times to count, and you have complimented it many, many times— but he doesn't want to risk a run in with certain soldiers seeing his face he so desperately tries to hide.

He twists the cold doorknob, leaving the empty excuse of a room.

He couldn’t believe he was walking down to your room now, in the middle of the night with everyone else in their own rooms right down the hall. But he had to see you, wanting to spend more time with you before it turns into another one of his regrets. Irrational thoughts infected him now, too, thanks to his gut feeling that he was positive was wrong. What if something was wrong with you? What if you were hurt? What if something happened? Forget the fact that you were on a secure base or that he had seen you this evening, he wasn't convinced unless he had you wrapped in his bear arms, wrapping you tightly to his chest.

If anyone caught him - Your Lietenaunt - slipping into your room in the middle of the night, there would surely be hell to pay. Yet, he couldn’t stop himself. He wants to feel your heartbeat so vibrant and alive, he wants to see your steady breathing against him. He needs to know you're safe.

-But what will he do when he shuts you off? When he can see the appearant hurt on your face, over what he had caused you, he doesn't want to harm you anymore, so when he becomes a useless husk of the man he used to be, it's to protect not only him, but you.

He is dragged away from his plagued mind when his knuckles, subconsciously, colliding with the grain of your wooden door. His knock is quiet; low and firm. Trying his best to keep it down.

He doesn't hear movement or noises on your side of the door.

Maybe you're asleep.

While he's waiting for any sign of life inside, he now starts to feel guilty for waking you up with the unpleasant suprise of being at your door.

When he's turning to go with a bashful expression, feeling a bit stupid now, there's a quick shuffling of feet and the noise of an unlatching of a lock breaks through the deafening silence.

There you are.

Standing in the doorway, a tired but welcoming smile on your face; doting eyes casted his way making him suddenly feel small, comforted.

Just like clockwork, all the paranoia, the infested ideas in his mind, the doubt; it's gone, every bit of it, drained from his body just from the warmth of your presence inviting him in.

When you take his hand in yours and lead him in, theres a flutter in his chest; a spark of hope.

He doesnt say it, but he knows — you know that his actions always speak louder than words.

So when he suddenly stops and his arms snake around your figure pulling you closer to him and he presses the fabric around his mouth to your forehead.

You know he loves you.

He realises it too.

He had realised when he first laid eyes on you.

He just kept pushing the feelings down, trying to ignore them. But he couldn't stop them. It was inevitable.

He just delayed them.

Now he knows how much he needs you, how much you mean to him.

And how much time he wasted denying it.

You reach up to the end of the balaclava, looking in Ghosts Simons eyes for consent and when he lightly nods, you toss the mask that hides the face you absolutely adore and throw it over his head and finally do what the two of you have been waiting for.

You kissed him.

A real kiss.

Not seperated by some thin fabric, actual skin to skin contact.

Your lips are a handcrafted balm to Simons irritated and bruised flesh, it's sweet. He chases your tender touch— your lips. To his suprise, there was an odd feeling in his stomach, butterflies. Relentlessly tossing around, making his breath hitch and the same colour that you had somehow managed to dig your claws into making him feel everytime you dared look at him had returned, plastering a pretty pink on his cheeks and tips of his ears.

Though it was slightly embarrassing, he wouldn't trade this for the world. You'd have to pry it from his dead body.

Simon Riley had felt something he didn't feel since he was that little boy playing in that kitchen with his mother.

—Something he had sworn off years ago. Until he met you.

Love.

——

He can worry about everything else later.

For now, though, he's savouring the way your bodies fit perfectly together in the much too small mattress that is meant for one person— like you were made for one another.

How you nuzzle your head closer into his chest and the soft snores leaving your slightly ajar lips, sounding out noises that he can relish in, if he stays like this forever, he can die happy. A part of him wishes he could leave this god forsaken earth with you cuddling up to him.

Something he didn't know he'd be able to get. A peaceful death.

So he'll enjoy this.

For now at least.

Even with all the shit he's seen— what he's been through. He hardly deserves someone like you, somone who is able to take away the pain he's felt and bottled up over the years.

You know what he's done, what he can do. And yet, you're not repulsed, like any normal person would be, you dont fear him, you stand your ground- always.

He likes it.

Some selfish part of him wants to leave this hell of a life that he is bound to, to run away, with you. You'll be able to make him forget his past, to work on the future.

To be able to grow old with you by his side, away from the horrors, taking his last breath on some cliché wooden porch swing next to you watching the sun setting, withdrawing the beams of light it had once gifted.

What a sick fantasy.

There isn't anything that can pry the chains loose from his red raw wrists— keeping him from his desired resignation.

But he'll take what he can get.

So whenever the sun decides to come over the horizon on the promised date of tomorrow, and it hurts to breathe— Simon knows you'll be waiting for him with open arms; welcoming him home, time and time again.

[confused-wanderer]

“No one cares about us.”

“No one cares about us!”

Ghost always believed no one cared. If he died, the world would forget him and move on. No one cared. No one would care if he got hurt. No one would care if he was scared. No one would come to help him. He was on his own.

Soap always thanked god no one cared. If he made a fool of himself, the world would forget about him and move on. No one cared. No one would care if he looked ridiculous doing childish things. No one would care if he frolicked in the gardens on a rainy night. No one would come to chide him for being himself. He was on his own.

While Soap reveled in it, he didn’t ask for much else. It didn’t matter if the world never got to knew him, he knew himself and that was good enough. He would be himself, he would do nice things because it made him feel good, he would be kind and happy because he wanted to. Because no one cared, and he was more than fine with that. He’d long since given up on hoping someone would anyways.

And Ghost had accepted it as his fate. That he was destined to be the one not many would care about. Why would they waste their empathy on him? No one truly does, they never will. They will try, but that’s all they can do. Everytime he’d tried to be vulnerable he’d been burned. Everytime there was a ray of hope the sky would turn bleak with hatred and hurt. Everything was used against him, and he was more than fine with that.

But then they crossed paths.

And when Soap is there for him, watching his six Ghost feels his heart flutter in his chest. He sees no doubt in Soap’s eyes when the man promises to be by his side, watching his back. When Ghost is injured in battle, Soap is the first one running towards him. When he has nightmares and sits alone on the couch, Soap always finds him.

And when Ghost is behind him, Soap chokes. When he realises that there is someone there, who refuses to let any smile that is fake shine. When Ghost comes to him after three nights of anger and asks Johnny what’s wrong Soap starts. No one’s done that before. And when he calls bullshit on Soap’s lies, his excuses to avoid expressing himself he’s never been so grateful.

Soap was Ghost’s sea, allowing him to flow through life and dream. To hope.

Simon was John’s anchor, allowing him a safe place that provides shelter from the constant storm. To breathe.

It seemed that life did love proving them wrong, and for once, it had worked in their favour.

[spinning-stars]

The trail of the Lost- The walk through grief.

Kinda a part two to The trail of the Lost fic I wrote<3 but also not a part 2 at the same time so pretty much a little spin off. I had to make it a cute little ending I'm sorry.

Part 1-Trail of the Lost. Masterlist

Price x Y/n (Gn reader!)

Slight angst, fluff and SFW but with some high tension scenes.

⚠️Warnings- Slight Angst, Mention of death, slight mentions of SH (self harm) and mourning. NOT PROOFREAD!!!!!!!;;

It's been 3 years since Ghost was confirmed as KIA on the trail of the Lost. It was hard for you to say the least, one day you were watching a movie and laying on each other, the next you were curled up in Price's office crying your heart out. Price was there for you through it all. When you were in grief he left you be, making sure to check on you and bring you what you needed. For anger he got you your own room to prevent you from lashing out on anybody but him. He never minded when you lashed out at him, he would try and calm you down but if that didn't work he would excuse himself and say he'll be back in an hour to check up on you. He got you a punching bag and some fidgets to keep you from taking the anger out on yourself. You two started to grow more close, and you began to wonder if you started to develop feelings for Price's caring nature but you never knew if you could take the risk of asking and losing your only support, do you just shoved your feelings down.

Bargaining really through Price for a spin. 141 was going to a bar and you wanted to come, Price was happy to see you want to get out, he thought you were coming to acceptance of Ghost's sad death. He heard you make bargains with yourself but they seemed rather innocent so he didn't pay too much mind, he thought this stage of grief would be rather tame. You and Price clung together and drank, you heavily underestimated how much liquor at the bar you could take and you got badly drunk. Shot after shot you started flirting with Price more and more. Price would get flustered at the sudden flirting but he was also confused. He never thought you'd be that into him, he wouldn't mind being in a relationship with you but he never thought that you would start flirting with him. He snaps out of it when he feels you kiss near his mouth trailing down to his neck. You grab his hand and lead him to the janitor's closet as you push him against the wall, tumbling a bit. Your hand trails up and down his chest, you slowly slide your hand near his belt, "May *hic* I?" You ask. "Y/n... Im sorry, id really love to but your clearly drunk and not thinking straight, I love you I really do. But I'd never do something as big as this without your full consciousness, because I'd never want to be the cause of regret. You've been bargaining with yourself a lot lately as well. Let's just get you home and clean you up, we can cuddle if you would like honey." Price's voice was a bit shaky but loud and clear. You nod as you stubble, Price picks you up and carries you bridal style out of the closet and goes and finds Gaz. "Gaz, you're the only one I trust enough to drive, you also not that big of a drinker and I know you've only had one beer. I'm taking Y/n home, be safe ok? If you need me to pick you guys up from here I can, just call me." Price says once he finds Gaz. "Gaz nods as he pulls out his phone and texts the group chat letting them know as well. Price took you home and you too fell asleep on the couch watching a movie, Price held you close to him like a little teddy bear. Every day he remembers how tightly you held him, how your kisses seemed to stay on his skin despite nothing being there, how you call him 'your sweet boy'. You were haunting his mind with love...

All of this led up to what stage you were in now, depression. Price dreaded the uprising of this stage. He fell in love with you, but he didn't know if you loved him as much as he loved you. Price never wanted to see you hurt, he would do everything in his power to stop it. But this was out of his power, and it ate at him. He knew he couldn't stop it from happening but he made sure to take care of you. You two would brush your teeth together, cook and eat together, sleep beside each other, and much more. He tried to stay by you as much as he possibly could, he wanted to make sure you were taking care of yourself. He would even beg you to do a spa day with him every week. It wasn't really a true spa day but neither of you minded, you just wanted to be close and comforted by him and he just wanted you to be happy and to feel like you're not alone.

About 3 months have passed since the start of the stage when you started to feel better. You got back up on your feet, you came down and ate breakfast with the 141 team, you started dressing up more, and taking care of yourself without the reliance of Price's motivational talks. You slowly started to recognize your feelings for Price but that voice in the back of your head made you never get the courage to ask him out. You came into Price's office with 2 mugs of tea. "Sorry it took me a while to come here, I wanted to bring you tea because you asked me to come over." You say walking up closer to Price to hand him the tea. "Thank you honey." He said while blowing on the tea before taking a long sip. "I've called you into here to say something important," Price said, breaking the silence. He sets down the tea and opens a drawer on his desk. "Close your eyes please" he says while reaching into the drawer. You close your eyes and you wait till you hear his voice. "I don't want this to tear apart what we have but it's hard for me to not ask this, you can open your eyes." He smiles. You open your eyes and see him holding your favorite flowers, a love letter and a box of chocolate. He looks at you with a nervous smile before speaking again. "I hope I didn't go overboard, but will you be my lover?" He asks. A smile spread across your face as you hugged him, "yes!" You yelled while squeezing him. He puts down the stuff and hugs you back, you share a few seconds of eye contact before you two kissed.

You never forgot Ghost and what you two once had, he would always have a place in your heart. You and Price became a cute couple, and you realized something a bit corny. The kiss was much more than a celebration of a new couple, it's a celebration of how far you and Price came into bringing you to your final stage of grief, acceptance.

Authors note- Hiii requests are open 💞 I think I like this story more than the first trail of the Lost. Have a lovely day<3

[tuanawritesshit]

"A COZY NIGHT IN"

➤summary: nikto wasn't feeling his best and neither were you, the exhaustion of the week collapsed on you both.

➤warnings: absolutely nothing. this is the purest fluff to ever exist.

➤author's note: hi y'all. i'm so fucking nervous to post this omfg. anyways enjoy and hopefully i don't fuck this up!! hopefully no grammar mistakes were made.. also my very poorly translated russian. this is fem aligned and um.... yeah.

she sat on the huge L couch in the living room, watching the sunset as Igor wrapped his arms around her waist, placing his head on her shoulder.

"hi моя любовь..."

he murmured, keeping his head nestled in her neck, inhaling her addictive scent. his hands started caressing her stomach, drawing little shapes and stars on it.

"hi love..."

she rasped, leaning into his touch. both of them could sense that the other was exhausted, like they had some sort of telepathy.

"wanna spend the night cuddling and kissing?"

he asked, slumping more into her tired body. the sun was setting beautifully on the horizon, the sky a bright red. she nodded, finding the idea rather comforting. they both got up, Igor untangling his arms from her body. Igor got up, seeming too tired to do so.

they both walked up the stairs, holding hands. she walked in the room first, throwing herself on the bed. a little chuckle was heard from Igor's lips, following her into the bed.

they both got under the covers, snuggling into each other. her head was in the crook of his neck, her arms wrapping around him lazily. his arms wrapped around her waist, one of them soon moving down to her thigh and lifting it up to his waist.

she lifted her head up, her hands reaching up to his mask. she looked into his eyes, silently asking for permission to lift his mask. he hesitantly nodded, caressing her waist.

her hands slowly lifted his mask up, revealing his disfigured face. he seemingly tensed up, still not used to being to exposed in front of her. her hands softly caressed his face, smiling tiredly.

she admired his face, tracing every curve, every dent and every scar on it. she treated it like the most precious thing to ever exist.

Igor stared at her, not being able to understand how someone would be so soft and caring with him. but that didn't matter anymore. he felt good, comfortable.

he kept on caressing her waist, the hand on her thigh joining the action. it was his way of showing care and affection.

she felt sleep creep up to her, making her eyelids feel heavy. she was slowly starting to fall asleep. Igor kept on admiring her, lost in her soft features.

soon after, Igor felt his eyelids also become heavy, sleep slowly creeping up to him. he kept on caressing her body, his eyelids fluttering closed. he felt safe and comfortable, in the arms of his lover.

@tuanawritesshit - this work belongs to me, i do not consent to it being translated, copied or posted on other platforms.

[iblameashley]

Wing-man Gaz sets up his LT.

Civilian | Male | Gay

PART 1

1,100~ words

Long (bc Images included). First time meeting + build up to romance. Slow-burn. Fluff. DOG!

Ghost | OC | Gaz

Ghost dropped his phone on the table and let out a grunt. He huffed and stared off into space. The mess area was mostly empty, save for Soap and Gaz who had been picking away a their food a few tables away. They both stopped to look over at the gloomy man.

They looked back at each other, back at Ghost, and once again to each other. Soap let out a sigh.

"everythin a'right, Lt?" He asked.

"Fine." Ghost replied curtly.

"c'mon man, somethin's up." Soap smiled. "Just 'ell us."

Ghost shot a glace at the two men. It was probably faster to just tell them, they'd leave him alone faster this way.

"My.. dog sitter can't watch Ella on deployment." He was grinding his teeth under his mask.

"I.." Gaz started. He cleared his throat. "That sucks man, but… I might be able to help."

"You off the mission?" It was almost a joke.

"Nah. Guy in my building, Logan, watches dogs for people. Works from home, so he can take good care of them."

Ghost stared him down.

"Just say the word, I'll shoot off a text. Worst case he says no and you're back where you started."

"Ye' have yer neighbours mobile?" Soap asked.

"Yep. He works in insurance, gave me some good advice once. Kept in touch."

"You trust him?" Ghost asked.

"Well, I've never used his services myself. No dog and all. But yes. A few people in the building leave their dogs with him while they're on holiday or business."

This was a big deal to Ghost. Ella was his girl, one of the only things he loved. But he was running short on time, and the thought of putting her in a kennel was unthinkable. But the thought of a stranger watching her was almost worse. But he trusted Gaz with his life, and that counted for something.

He grunted.

Gaz pulled out his phone and sent a message.

"He'll probably want to meet you and Ella, by the way." Gaz said as he was typing out his reply to Logan. "He likes to make sure the dog will like him first."

"Ella's gatta good instinct 'bout people." Soap chimed in, trying to sell Ghost on the idea.

"The fuck will I do if she doesn't like him?" Ghost shot back.

"She'll like him." Gaz smirked. 'And he'll like you, too' he thought.

There was a brief silence, and Gaz received another message.

"Yeah, he wants to meet. Hows tonight, Lt? What time?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Logan opened up the door to Gaz, Simon (the wanker) and Ella. Ghost was wearing a skull-styled face-mask with a black hoodie and jeans. His short blond hair a bit of a mess, dark brown eyes. Gaz was his usual spiffy self. Nice fitted tee, and jacket with slacks. And Ella was just the most beautiful German Shepard.

"Hey Gaz, Simon… Ella" He gave the dog a smile.

She waved her tail, delighted. But stayed sitting.

"Come on in."

"Ghost." Simon said as he entered. "Call me Ghost."

Logan looked at Gaz who shrugged.

"Sure."

Ghost examined the flat like it was an enemy stronghold. It was clean, organized. But oddly colourful. Everything seemed to belong in its place, but popped with colour or design. There were dog toys around the floor, and a dog bed tucked away beside a large lounge chair.

He walked his way around examining every detail and moved on to the kitchen.

"Lt. Respectfully… you're being disrespectful. Stop wandering around Logan's flat."

"Its fine." Logan said. He sat down on the floor in front of Ella who had made her way into the flat and took a seat just inside the entrance.

Logan held out a hand and let her sniff. Her tail wagged across the floor. When she was satisfied with the smell of Logan's hand, she moved on to his face before giving him a few licks on the cheek.

"I knew she'd like you." Gaz replied.

Ghost had been watching from the kitchen. Ella only took to people she trusted, Gaz and Soap were on the short list. And somehow this stranger was now too.

"So…" Logan said, not taking his eyes from Ella. "You're military. Do you keep a schedule for Ella? Feeding, Walks, and so on?"

"I do."

"Did you bring a copy of it, or should I write it down?"

Ghost reached into his jeans pocket and putted a folded piece of paper. He made his way over to Logan and handed it to him. Logan unfolded it, and was more surprised by the colourful nature of the to-do list.

Logan read over it, and it was pretty standard stuff.

"She on the base with you most days?" He asked.

"Yeah."

Ghost continued to scope-out the flat, walking around slowly, trying to find anything that would endanger Ella. Gaz had taken a seat beside Logan and was petting her as well.

Ghosts eyes eventually landed on a shelf with three small flags planted in a coffee cup. One was the Canadian flag, the other was a British flag and the last he did not recognize. It was striped and colourful.

"You're Canadian?" Ghost asked. "Or just a fan?"

Logan looked up to see him staring at the flags.

"Born and raised. Moved here for work, just recently got citizenship."

"Whats the last one?"

Logan looked at Gaz.

"Its fine. He knows I'm gay too. He's cool, despite the way he looks." He gave a sly wink.

"Its the pride flag for gay men."

"I thought that was a rainbow."

"That's for the whole gay community. This one is for gay men specifically."

"Ah."

Ella had rolled over, exposing her stomach. Logan and Gaz proceeded to give her all the tummy rubs she could handle.

"You'll do." Ghost finally said.

"High fuckin' praise." Gaz joked.

Logan stood up and walked over to Ghost. He held out a hand. "Its a deal, then?"

Ghost stared at Logan's hand for a moment, and then walked back over to Gaz and Ella.

"I'll drop Ella off the night before we deploy with her food and a few of her toys."

"Alright." Logan smiled. "But… one last thing."

Ghost turned to him. "Hmm?"

"I should probably get your mobile? In case you have questions or I need to contact you for any reason?"

Ghost held out his hand, and waited for Logan to hand over his phone. "Only for emergencies." He grunted as he typed his number in.

"Of course."

"Ella, come." He ordered as they made their way to the door.

"Thanks for doing this," Gaz said. "And ignore him. He appreciates it as well, he's just bad at showing it." He flashed one last smile and exit the flat.

[annoyance-for-u]

This was yesterday? AWESOMEEEEE

A Fighting Chance

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

"When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?" Her voice drops into something akin to defeat.

And Simon...Simon feels like the rug's been pulled from under his feet.

Part 2, Masterlist,

"What're those?"

"Papers."

Ghost pauses halfway through opening the document, glancing up at the curtness of her voice. "Papers? She doesn't meet his eyes, gaze fixed on the table of the little booth they're sitting in.

The ice in her drink is long gone, watering down her coffee into something that tastes as bitter as her heart.

It had taken months for her to finally make this decision. Days of talking with her lawyer, crying alone at night and coming to the gruelling acceptance that this was for the best. It was best for both of them.

There's not many things that unsettle Simon. He's had blood stain his hands; his own, his comrades, and his enemies. Had almost any injury you could think of marring his skin, been prodded and ripped into, been the one on the opposite end of the knife.

But as he slides out the documents, turns them over, Simon's never felt more apprehensive.

He stills, reading the first few lines, clenching his jaw. "What is this?"

"I want a divorce."

And something in him crumbles at her defeated tone. Like she's already decided. Like he doesn't even have a chance to ask why or talk it through.

"No." He says tightly, putting them down and crossing his arms.

Her gaze shoots to his. "You can't just say that."

"I did. I won't sign them."

"I want this." She argues, and Simon swallows back the lump in his throat at how utterly tired she looks.

"I don't."

She's the light of his life, the one good, untouched piece of joy he gets to see. Something other than the bloodshed and violence he lives in.

"Simon," She says, shoulders sagging forward. "I can't do this anymore."

"This isn't the solution, love." He feels like his skin is crawling, the beginnings of unfamiliar panic clawing at his chest when she doesn't react to the pet name.

Doesn't smile, doesn't flush that beautiful red, doesn't squirm.

When she doesn't respond again, tight-lipped and clammed up and so determined to not look at him, he asks the question burning a hole through his tongue.

"Why?"

Deep down he knows. Knew this was coming but that part of him is buried under the thudding of his heart, and the rush of blood in his ears. Everything feels deathly still and moving too fast at the same time.

"Why?" She repeats, something in her stirring at the question. Her brow furrows and she switches from a cautious indifference to disbelief and frustration quicker than Simon can process. "Are you serious?" She huffs out an incredulous laugh. "You're away for months at a time and I'm supposed to what? Wait for you at our doorstep and wag my tail all happy when you finally come back to me?" Her grip tightens on her drink.

"Even when you are home, it's never about us. Never about me and you. You lock yourself in your study with your work, don't talk to me unless you come out for dinner or lunch. When was the last time we went out?" She demands. "When was the last time we went on a date? The last time we slept at the same time in the same bed?"

Simon clenches his jaw but says nothing, at a loss for words. It only encourages her to keep going, spewing thoughts that have been boiling over for the past few years.

"You barely look at me when we're home, I had to drag you out of the house to get here! You left halfway through our anniversary dinner last year because work called you in. Sometimes...sometimes I feel like you're only with me because it's easier than leaving and starting over, and that fucking hurts. It hurts when you can't bear to spend five minutes with me away from work. I've been telling you this for ages but you just...you don't listen to me." She leans forward, drink completely forgotten and hits the final nail in the coffin.

"When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?" Her voice drops into something akin to defeat.

And Simon...Simon feels like the rug's been pulled from under his feet.

"I never even know if you're coming home to me." Her voice cracks, and she hugs her middle, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "So yes, Simon, I want to separate. I'm not happy, not like I was when I met you." A sheen of tears she refuses to let fall.

"You can focus on work like you love to, and I can...I can move on."

It was so good when they started out. She found him endearing, dry humour and brooding and all. It was special, those first few years, and she'll always care about him but this...this waiting, this hurting, laying in bed at night alone and cold and crying...it wasn't right. It wasn't what she wanted and she wouldn't force Simon to want it when he clearly didn't want to.

"Fucking hell, I love you." Simon says quickly, stumbling over what to say. He reaches out for her hand on the table, but she pulls it away before he can grab it. It stings more than he can convey, makes the reality crashes down onto him.

He's about to lose her.

Because he couldn't fucking bear to pull himself out of being 'Ghost'.

It was always a rough couple of weeks during his leave. The adjustment to civilian life was a slow one for him, but that's not really an excuse at all.

"I don't think you do."

Simon blinks at her like she's slapped him. "You...you don't think so?" He repeats, running a hand through his hair. She nods, one nod, quick and so sure that it makes his chest ache.

Fuck. He's absolutely messed up.

"Everything's finalised on my end." She says. "You just need to sign them." Her voice is soft, almost like she's coaxing him.

If there's one thing he knows, it's that he's not touching those fucking papers. He's not losing someone he loves again.

"I'll take time off." He says, the intensity of his gaze makes a shiver run down her spine. "We can work through it, yeah? You can't spring this on me and not give me a chance to protest."

She shakes her head, "You're only taking time off because I'm upset." She tries to explain. "What do you think is going to happen? We spend a month together doing what we used to, and when everything's a little more stable you leave again. Distance yourself. Shut me out. Then we're back to square one."

"Won't happen." He says like he hasn't been doing it for the past few years already. "You...I can't lose you, darling." He leans forward. "Let me make it better. Give me a few months-"

"Simon-"

"A week."

"A week?" Her eyes widen. "A week to...what, prove that you'll change?"

"One week."

She worries her lip between her teeth, considering. One week wasn't a long time, but hope was dangerous in a situation like this.

"I'm not letting you go over something like this." Simon says. "I can't."

"This isn't about you." She crosses her arms. "You really think you can turn just...reverse the past few years in a week?" Maybe it's foolish of her to want him to say yes, to fight for her and realise that she's been hurting, but goddamn doesn't a small part of her scream at him to do it anyway.

"Not trying to reverse it." He folds his arms, and she can see the tense line of his shoulders as he takes in the situation, gears turning in his head as he plans how he's going to work his way out of a situation so precious and daunting as this.

Part of him didn't think it would ever come to this. Yes, he can be cold and aloof but Simon thought she knew that he loved her through it all. No matter what.

When was the last time you kissed me and meant it?

Fuck if that doesn't tear through his chest more painfully than any caliber bullet ever could.

He takes her in quietly for a moment.

The woman he fell in love with. The person that gave him a reason to keep going, a motive to feel anything other than the cold efficientness of loading a gun and firing. Soft touches and warm smiles, something so at odds with the rough life he's used to.

Sitting there in front of him, she looks more beautiful than he remembers, and it only proves to make his stomach sink like a stone at the notion of seeding any doubt about his feelings in her heart.

A right fucking bastard he was for it.

"I'm sorry." He breathes out, much softer than the gruff voice he's been using with her. "I'll do better. Just give me a chance, yeah?"

For one horrible moment, Simon thinks she'll decline. That she'll slide over the papers again and demand he sign them.

But she considers his words for a moment before nodding once.

And it's all he needs.

A fighting chance.

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Part 2

(11/10/2023)

[2kiran]

Oh! Understandable! well, here’s a thirst (it’s not thirsty I just wanna hug ghost😭😭)

ghost, with a girlfriend/partner (whichever you prefer) who’s just, always kinda clingy? They/she needs physical contact to be reassured he still loves her and such

🙏-

SOFT SIMON R. X F!READER

⸝⸝ SIMON would tease you, just a little. he'd never admit it, but he finds it adorable.

⸝⸝ SIMON has never exactly liked hugs, not until you came into his life. his body has grown used to seeking your warmth, your arms that'd hold onto him tightly, as if he'd disappear any moment now.

⸝⸝ SIMON is awkward. you'd swear he was squirming, flustered from the intimacy. he would never pull away, keeping you close to him even though he believes he isn't being very good at providing you with this sort of thing.

⸝⸝ SIMON compliments you. well, at least he tries to. it's mostly in a form of quick mutters, like it was meant to stay in his head.

"you're pretty." simon blurts out as you rub at your eye. you've recently woken up, looking absolutely disheveled. "what?" you ask, sleepily. did you hear that right? "nothing." he turns away, going back to whatever task he found himself infatuated with.

⸝⸝ SIMON soon learns to get over his 'shyness'. becoming more and more confident with you as days pass by. he'd be touchier, shockingly.

at first, SIMON was feeling 'uncomfortable' or somewhat similar. he wasn't used to it — for someone to want to be close to him at all times. sure, you could talk his ear off from time to time but it could never genuinely annoy him.

"and then—and then!" you heaved, breathless from how quick you were ranting about something, "yeah? go on, pretty girl."

⸝⸝ SIMON would become more reassuring as your relationship progresses. a pat on the back while he listens about your worries was a regular. but now? he gives it to you without you asking.

your back was against his front while both of you were watching a movie of your choice. his arms were wrapped around your waist, thumbs gently rubbing random shapes on your skin. "love," he begins, catching your attention, "yeah?" his hand lifts to brush against your cheek affectionately. "you know how much you mean to me, right?" you pause, nodding, "and that won't ever change." he continues, kissing your head. "my sweet girl."

[l0velylecter]

how you met the cod:mwii men (vol.i)

— first encounters with the men of cod : mw ii, part 1

rating : m for mature and suggestive themes tags : kissing, making out, fluff, smut goes as far as giving head ( lol idk how to describe it besties, my bad ) pairing : f!reader / phillip graves ,  f!reader / alejandro vargas fandom : cod mwii warnings : cursing, suggestive themes, mdni (minors don’t interact)

01| Phillip Graves

It started as a fling, of course — all it took was fifteen minutes of passive-aggressively telling him he should stop showing up unannounced, and suddenly he has you against a janitor's closet with his hand up your skirt. You felt his impatience bleed into his kisses: messy, uncoordinated, and almost desperate, Grave’s eagerness would have scared you off. Lucky for him, you think he fits cockiness like a glove ( as much as you did not want to admit it.)

Any thoughts of resisting for the sake of your pride and dignity were swept away by the heady rush of adrenaline brought only seconds before one realises they are about to have a quickie. The thought made you shiver in his arms. Noticing this, he grinned against your mouth, nipping your bottom lip before pulling away.

'What’s your name, baby ?'

You nearly rolled your eyes — you were even surprised he asked. Having just met the man twenty minutes ago, you can already guess that Graves was the type to 'fuck first and talk later.' And he clearly wasted no time, hoisting you up an open wardrobe and patting your waist with a, ' Open up for me, atta girl.’

Sure, his one-liners are cheesy as fuck, and someone needs to put him in his place, but the words always seem to come out of your throat as a desperate whine when his head disappears between your legs; it was one of the only ways to get him to shut up.

'Easy there.' He chuckled, nipping the inside of your thighs when they started to shake. It happened so fast, too fast — he had a hand across your mouth while the other helped his tongue drive you over the edge. Even in between breaths, he still finds a way to talk ( not that you mind the filth pushing past gritted teeth.)

‘C’mon baby, c’mon baby, c’mon baby — fuck.’

With your head thrown back and chest heaving, it did not even cross your mind that the asshole had pocketed your underwear until you were dressed and back behind your desk. The whiplash was enough to flush your entire face, barely keeping a straight composure when Shepherd stepped out of his office with Laswell in tow, the older man obliviously introducing you to Graves. Behind, Kate eyed your smudged lipstick suspiciously.

' And for God's sake Graves, will it kill you to make an appointment?'

You were hyper-aware of how your thighs were still wet. He noticed your discomfort; obviously, the asshole did — why else would Graves be so pleased with his response?

' I'll make sure to have your secretary's number then, sir.'

02| Alejandro Vargas

The hero of Las Almas is what the people call Alejandro. They knew him as a soldier, a leader, and a beacon of hope. Yet, you knew Alejandro even before he joined the army; stripped off his badge and weapon, you will always see him as the man who courageously stepped in to save you from being robbed at gunpoint all those years ago. Who knew he eventually becomes colonel? While everyone talks about him with pride and adoration, you cannot help but feel hurt over the fact that: just like everyone else, you will have no choice but to admire him from afar.

' You barely even speak to the man.'

' He's way older than you ! '

' Pah! Please, put this energy somewhere else.'

Those are the few things the townspeople told you when they found out you had eyes on him, but can they blame you? And because his second in command guiltily cannot resist the scent of warm, freshly baked bread every morning on the way back to base from his morning patrol, you always volunteer for the six am shift — always racing down the stairs just in time to greet him with a smile.

' Buenos días, (name).'

Alejandro always says your name gently, as if he was especially pleased to see you. In order to not let the man feed into your delusions, you took a few seconds to brace yourself so that your 'good morning, colonel' does not shake.

You enjoy making small talk with him. In this scenario, conversations between the two of you usually consist of Alejandro asking you about your well-being and you nodding back in response — always too awed by his presence to respond. ( You even almost forgot Rodolfo had been waiting for you to give him his change back.)

The moment before he leaves to let you tend to the other customers is probably the most agonising fifteen seconds of your morning routine. You will watch in anticipation as Alejandro raises a hand behind his neck to act as if he wants to ask you a question, only to turn to his heels and wish you a good day. And as if you were a telenovela for the line of customers, your family, your neighbor, the local children, and the fruit sellers to watch, they will all throw their hands in the air and sigh in frustration.

Your mother once compared your crush on Alejandro to being in love with the sun. You cannot decide between laughing or crying.

Eventually, this continued until the city was torn apart by cartel members. Your family was lucky enough to survive the sudden wave of brutality, but the bakery was a wreck, and worse: your hero was nowhere to be seen. You were so sick with worry that the moment he knelt to help clean up the broken shards of glass, you had abandoned the dustpan to throw yourself into his arms — sobbing about how scared you were for him.

A laugh was pulled out of Alejandro as if he was surprised by how much you cared about him. Hands wiped your tears away, and he cooed above you, tucking your head under his chin with both his arms around you, ' Oh, cariño — come here.'

When Rodolfo arrives in tow with your family to clean up the rest of the mess, he quickly ushers them back out, ducking when Alejandro throws a nearby towel at him for interrupting what would have been your first and proper kiss together. ( He made up for it in the end.)

‘ You know, it’s the colonel who always insists that we get breakfast every morning. Not me. More than half a decade of eating the same breakfast every day, imagine that.’

a/n: i hope the contrast between the two scenarios didn’t give you whiplash ( what happens when the howl’s moving castle soundtrack plays after the weeknd (o¬‿¬o ) ) anyways, i hope you enjoyed this ! <3 

[mlmxreader]

Pups | Alex Keller x m!reader

@satan-incarnate-666 asked: can i. add a new SF bf to ur ensemble.

jtf2 bf x alex keller, gettin all playfully bitey while price looks on in mild resignation with a bit of dad-vibes tinted horror pls

summary: you and Alex have a very particular way of saying hello when you've been apart for a while, it's a good thing most people are used to it.

tws: swearing, biting, playful violence

Alex always looked forward to the visits from Joint Task Force 2, as it always meant that he could see his boyfriend for a little longer than usual and didn't have to make up an excuse to do so either; the second he saw the patches, half of the earth with half of the Canadian maple leaf, a blade between the two, he knew it was good news. He knew it was even better news when he heard your call sign: Wolverine. The second he saw them coming in, he would wait front and centre, bouncing on his heels as excitement bubbled in his stomach, and today was no different.

He greeted the others warmly, welcoming them and pointing them in the right direction, but when he saw you, he grinned; he wasn't expecting it, you to grab him by the front of his shirt, slamming him on the ground as you straddled his waist, leaning over with your arms either side of his head as you kissed him so softly. Eagerly, Alex kissed back, his arms around you as he tried to keep you as close as humanly possible, nipping at your bottom lip when you pulled away, grinning down at him; you couldn't speak, daring to kiss him again and again until you were both breathless. He wrapped his legs around your waist, and laughed softly.

"Did you miss me?"

"Not really," you joked, shaking your head before you dared to kiss him again. "Did you miss me?"

"Never," Alex chuckled, pulling you down for another kiss. He couldn't help but to laugh when you stood up, one arm under his ass to keep him steady as he wrapped his arms around you that little bit tighter, burying his face against the side of your neck. "You gonna carry me to the base?"

"Yep," you nodded, easily walking with him wrapped around you.

In the distance, Alejandro looked at Gaz, who shrugged and explained that this kind of thing was actually more than normal; when the task force came to visit, you always ended up carrying Alex after some sort of violent greeting. It wasn't anything to bat an eye at, just something to eventually get used to. When you passed him, Ghost didn't even give you a second look, greeting you quickly before he carried on with what he was doing, Soap not far behind and asking why Ghost couldn't carry him the way you carried Alex; already, though, he was starting to nip and bite at your neck, making you laugh as his moustache tickled your skin.

"I'm gonna drop you," you warned.

"You like it," he chuckled, biting down a little harder.

You shook your head as you bit back a harsher laugh. "Stop. I'm gonna drop your stupid ass in a second."

Reluctantly, Alex stopped, huffing and settling just for kissing your neck until you eventually put him down; Price's office wasn't far, and although he knew that you would need to talk to the Captain, he couldn't stop himself, He pushed his leg up between yours, grabbing the back of your shirt and your head and using his weight to spin you both to the ground, grabbing your leg before he pushed you onto your stomach and laid himself on top of you, his breath soft against the back of your neck; you laughed, shaking your head as you pushed yourself up, and in a quick move, flipped onto your back before letting him rest his weight on you.

Alex unbuttoned your shirt a little, just enough to expose your skin as he smiled. "Can I start?"

"I guess so," you shrugged. "C'mon."

He didn't need to be ordered twice, eagerly nipping at your skin until you wrapped your legs around him and got him beneath you, biting at his neck until he decided to push you over so that he could keep biting you; neither of you could see, too busy fighting like teething puppies, but Price was looking out of his office window and down at you both. He sighed, rubbing his temples.

"Bist du gut?" König asked.

Price nodded. "The wolves are back."

König tilted his head to the side, and stole a quick look around the office, eyes wide with fear. "There's wolves?"

Laughing softly, Price gestured for König to stand beside him, and when he did, Price pointed to you and Alex. "That's (y/n), he's from joint task force two."

König nodded. "Okay… und?"

"And that's Alex," Price explained, "he's (y/n)'s boyfriend, but every time they're together… it's like teething puppies."

"I don't get it," König admitted.

"They bite," Price clarified. "They bite, they scratch, they're rough and tumble… good soldiers, but… together? Puppies."

König nodded slowly. "Should I eingreifen?"

"Nein, mein Freund," Price chuckled. "Leave them to it."

König slowly nodded again, returning to his seat, not wanting to watch for too long.

You and Alex didn't even know, still biting one another as you rolled around on the pathing, laughing and grinning as you covered one another in very obvious teeth imprints; but then you pulled back, and you smiled as you gently traced the deepest mark on Alex's neck.

"I love you."

"I know," Alex chuckled. "I love you, too."

You nipped at his bottom lip. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too," he whimpered when you pulled completely away from him, pulling him up by the collar of his shirt and dusting him off. "How long are you staying?"

"A few days," you shrugged. "We've got some intel to gather, mostly, just your usual shit but… it's gonna take a while to make sure we've got the right shit together."

Alex nodded, nipping at the edge of your ear. "So I've got you all to myself for a while?"

"Yeah," you returned the favour, even daring to gently tug at his ear, making him laugh. "It's you and me, baby… I'm all yours."

"I like the sound of that," he murmured. "All mine."

You scoffed as you dared to laugh, slinging your arm around his waist. "You're such an idiot… I fucking love you."

Up in his office, Price was still watching, a look of mild horror on his face as he realised just how much you and Alex had bitten into one another; he quickly pulled out his phone, and texted Gaz to bring the first aid kit over, but to make sure that there were extra antiseptic wipes and a few extra plasters, as he didn't trust you and Alex to keep your hands - or teeth, for that matter - away from one another.

"Fucking pups," he grumbled, shaking his head. "König?"

"Ja, Kapitän?"

"Do me a favour," Price started, "escort (y/n) and Alex here."

"Wieso den?"

"I don't trust them not to bite each other," he explained, "they've covered themselves in bite marks already."

König nodded. "Okay, Kapitän. I'll get them."

"Thank you."

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; spam likers WILL be blocked. as will blogs that refuse to reblog or to give feedback. if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM. don't just "like", REBLOG

[bucky-lents]

Not me bawling my eyes out because of soft!dad!john price 😭💕 he's such a girl dad and would do anything for his little sweet pea

Greetings! I am here to request a little short piece about Price holding his first-born child. A daughter that kicks, and babbles like a baby should. As the female reader watches from the doorway of the nursery. Of course, when he turns around, he tries to play it cool, but he can’t help the tear in his eye. Thank you, notthatfanfictionwriter

Pairing: John Price x F!Reader Category: Fluff Warnings: None! Author’s Note: Hello dear! Thank you very much for your sweet request! 🫶 I can definitely see Price as a girl dad. D/N = Daughter’s Name.

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

You quietly padded down the hall, eyes set on the nursery. You put your daughter (D/N) down for a nap about an hour ago, and the small noises coming from the room told you she should be awake by now. Just as you rounded the corner and walked through the doorway, you froze. A smile spread cheek to cheek as you watched your husband, John, bounce her in his bulky arms. You leaned on the threshold as you watched them tenderly. Your husband’s eyes sparkled as he spoke to (D/N) in a hushed tone.

“You have a good nap, yeah?" John asked. Your baby gurgled and kicked around in her little blanket. He laughed. “Feisty little thing-you definitely get that from your mum," John chuckled softly. You rolled your eyes. He hummed as he pointed a finger down and tickled her chubby belly. She giggled, the sound floating around the room like bubbles.

“Look at you, little dove. You've got my eyes and your mum’s pretty hair,” John beamed. You heard him gasp slightly when she suddenly wrapped her tiny palm around his digit. It was incredible how small she was compared to him: her papa bear.

Your heart melted as John leaned down and pressed his lips to the top of your daughter’s head. The little one squealed, raising her other tiny fist as if to protest the feeling of his scratchy beard.

“Sorry, love,” John murmured as he smoothed the small tuft of soft, messy hair. (D/N) babbled in reply. The corners of his eyes wrinkled as his mustache curled up with his bright smile. You could barely make it out, but it looked like a faint tear was rolling down his cheek. He slowly turned as he swayed her in his arms. John’s body stiffened when he saw you leaning on the doorframe, soon shuffling in place awkwardly as you walked towards him.

“I was…just getting (D/N) up from her nap,” he explained. His rigid exterior seemed to melt when you pressed a warm kiss to his scruffy cheek. You tilted your head down and gave him a knowing glance once you pulled back. “What?” he blinked. You shook your head and kissed his cheek again, your hand falling down to pat his lower back.

“I knew you were a softie,” you said. John huffed.

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbled, though you couldn’t help but notice the tear stain down his cheek as he cracked a small grin.

You knew how he felt about being a father for the first time. Even though he didn't always express it, you were aware of the doubt that filled him throughout your pregnancy. How could he by worthy to hold something so precious as a life when he’s taken them for years? You had to remind John that he saved more lives than taken them, something that stuck with him to this day.

Your baby suddenly broke out into a high-pitched squeal, causing both of you to look down at her. She gave you a wide, toothless grin, her sea-green eyes shining with overabundant joy. John glanced over at you, his features relaxed and warm.

“I think she wants her mum,” he said. Your daughter, however, reached her hands out towards him and whined. You rested a hand on his forearm.

“No-I think she wants her papa to hold her a little while longer,” you replied while patting his arm. He raised a bushy brow and looked down at the small infant beaming up at him.

“You sure, love?” he asked, a bit of hesitancy laced in his gruff voice. (D/N) babbled and stuck her tongue out. John couldn't help but laugh at his child’s silliness, mirroring her expression.

“Don't worry, I know she's in good hands," you nudged his shoulder lightly. "Besides, I have other chores I need to finish. If she needs to eat she’ll start crying for me,” you told him. He nodded before looking back down at the babe in his arms.

“Alright, sweetpea. You’re with me,” John beamed as he tapped her button nose. She giggled again as he strode towards the rocking chair in the corner of the room. You smiled as he slid into the seat, your daughter cooing as he snatched a book off of a nearby shelf.

“You're in for a treat, little dove," John said as he cracked open the book. Your baby chewed and slobbered on her hand as she tried to shove it into her mouth. "Your Nan read this to me when I was a babe,” he smiled. (D/N) tilted her head curiously as she went to clutch her blanket. John's eyes became misty again as he leaned down to press another kiss to her head.

“I’ll be in the bedroom,” you said as you turned. John gave a small grunt in reply. You heard him clear his throat as you stepped out of the nursery.

“Corduroy is a bear who once lived in the toy department of a big store...” he began. You couldn’t help but feel your heart melt at your husband being so caring and attentive to your little one. It wasn’t long before you returned from putting your laundry away. You grinned ear to ear as you saw (D/N) secure and fast asleep in John's lap, your love snoring softly with the book hanging loosely in his other hand. You pulled your phone out, silently capturing the moment. You were careful as you tiptoed back into the hall, leaving the door cracked open.

“Sweet dreams,” you whispered gently.

____

Thank you for reading! ❤️

Tags: @notthatfanfictionwriter

[adastrael]

Cod: mw ii characters as type of kisses (pt.2)

Pairing(s): gender neutral reader / simon "ghost" riley, rodolfo "rudy" parra, alejandro vargas, valeria garza

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: nothing that I know of, this is just fluff

A/N: here is part two! I have another (last) one in the works, I hope you like this as much as the previous one <3

Simon "Ghost" Riley - "hand kiss"

Being in a relationship with someone who had a difficult time opening up wasn't an easy thing, and if you were a lesser person, you would have given up long ago. But knowing your love was reciprocated — even if not in a flashy way in front of the general public — made the hardships well worth it.

Gently scooping up a little sapling while humming under your breath, you were enjoying a calm Monday afternoon. Well into the month of May, the weather has been perfect for gardening for a while now, and you didn't waste the time you had to tend to your little oasis in front of the house. The various plants have been growing for years and the garden was something you were really proud of; fruits, vegetables and flowers were all healthily blooming in this time of the year, making the path leading to the front door inviting and beautiful.

Lost in your own bubble, just thinking about where your next pumpkin seeds should be planted, you only perked up when you heard a vehicle on the street. It was usually a quiet neighborhood — you lived there for a good reason — aside from a few people who tended to come and go during the day, so the noise of a car always drew your attention. Hearing it slow down, then an engine being cut off, you finally turned your head after putting a flower down from your hands. Spotting a familiar black SUV parked in front of the house, you couldn't contain a beaming smile stretching across your face. Quickly getting up, you made your way over to the car, skipping a few of your steps on the way.

"Simon!"

As soon as the figure stepped out from behind the shade of the vehicle, you were throwing yourself into his arms.

"You're home early!"

"I am."

His rumbling voice was the same you were used to, and it didn't fail to make you feel comforted.

Standing in the driveway in his arms, it quickly became difficult to hold your tears back and not let your feelings get the better of you. You liked to think you've always dealt well with his absence, but every time he came home, it was nearly impossible to avoid becoming emotional. You would have thought that after all this time it didn't have such a strong effect on you, but Ghost never failed to bring your deepest feelings out — often with simply his presence.

As he lowered his head and hid his still covered face into the crook of your neck, you wound your arms around his shoulders a little tighter, hoping to convey what you felt. Knowing he needed a few minutes staying like that — just as much as you did — you let yourself fully relax and enjoy being in his hold again.

Not much later, he reluctantly let you go from the secure embrace, gently raking his eyes over your form.

"Come on, let's go inside."

Giving a slight shake of his head, Ghost reached for your hand that was now hanging by your side.

"Simon, my hands are still dirty!"

"Don't care." - came his murmur, and he lifted your right hand to where his mouth was still hidden beneath his mask.

Your breath got caught in your throat a little; no matter how many times he did this — always, when he greeted you — it still made you feel special and appreciated in a way no one else could. You knew it was his way of saying "I love you", and if that didn't make you feel even warmer inside, you don't know what did.

Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra - "routine kiss"

There was something endearing about the way he subconsciously presented his cheek for you whenever you leaned in to put a kiss on his face. Often, he was busy doing something work related even at home, so greetings or goodbyes could be swift and hurried. It didn't bother you much however; when it mattered, he was always more than ready to show you how much he appreciated you.

You've been scribbling words on a post it note for a few days now, making a grocery list for later when you would have time to go and shop for the needed ingredients. During the second half of the week you've waited, knowing some of the missing items would appear on the paper sooner or later — your boyfriend would add them when he suddenly remembered something missing from the house. So far, he's only scratched one additional thing on it during the time he's been spending home lately, so you decided come Monday morning, it would be the perfect time to go out. He would be going to work later that day, so maybe you could even make him breakfast before he disappeared for God knows how long again.

You weren't angry or annoyed by that anymore, getting used to how different your daily (or weekly) routines were. It still wasn't rare for you to subconsciously bring the topic up when he was home though, and the poor soul never failed to apologize every time. You had to reassure him you didn't mind and you knew how important work was for him, and that it just accidentally slipped from your lips — old habits die hard as they say.

The upcoming Monday morning, you got up and got ready to go out and buy a few things as planned. Of course, your boyfriend, Rodolfo was already awake, so you couldn't leave without chastising him for being up early on a day he could have been still snoozing in the comfortable bed you two shared.

"I wanted to take another look at these reports before going, mi corazón."

"Of course you did."

Sitting at the dinner table, all kinds of papers laid out in front of him, he looked professional already, even though it was early enough for you to feel drowsy with sleep. He's always been quick to get into the working setting, that much was true, so you just smiled a little. Thanks to the high wooden surface, Rodolfo was just at a comfortably reachable lever for you to lean close and put a kiss on his cheek. As if he sensed it coming, not even looking up from the words on the page, he turned his head a little, angling the left side of his face towards you a little more. It made you smile immediately, even knowing he didn't even notice he was doing it.

"I will be back soon."

"Alright. Be safe!"

Later that day, when he finally had to leave for work, you got much more than a small peck back in exchange as an apology from him. You would make sure to make up for the lost time later.

Alejandro Vargas - "comforting kiss"

If you had to summarize why he was such a good partner, you would have certainly been in trouble. From his habit to check on everyone dear to him, to the way he could make you laugh just by pulling a silly face; he was really in touch with his emotions, and even more with the ones' close to him. He always radiated warmth and a positive energy, and it was hard not to feel similarly joyful in his company. Even on your worst days, he was there to lift your mood up, even when you didn't ask him to.

It was pretty late when you managed to crawl out of the comfort of your bed. Having woken up multiple times during the night for one reason and another, you were grumpy and had no motivation to do anything now that it was finally morning. Unfortunately, duty called, and the housework wasn't going to do itself. So, cursing under your breath, you clambered out of the bedroom and went downstairs to at least get a cup of coffee before facing the challenges of the day. There would be a few, because the past two or so days were filled with work of other nature, so you really needed any extra energy you could get.

Entering the kitchen, you were met with the sight of your husband. He was facing you backwards, doing something on the counter while quietly muttering under his breath — probably not to wake you. When he heard you audibly yawn in the doorway, he swiveled around with a bright smile to greet you.

"Buenos días mi vida."

"Morning."

You never understood how he was so chipper in the morning, but it wasn't an annoying or bad thing; his enthusiasm was contagious, no matter the time of day.

You could feel a little smile forming on your lips and already feeling slightly better, you made your way over to the counter to pour yourself some coffee. Thankfully a dose has been cooling for some time in the jug, so you could comfortably make a cup and start drinking it. Alejandro, who was just quietly watching the whole time, now stepped in front of you, sneaking his hands around your waist, paying attention not to make you spill your beverage.

"How did you sleep?"

"Rough. Kept waking up."

"Sorry to hear that. Maybe I can make you feel better?"

He was wearing one of his cheeky grins again, and you knew he was thinking about trouble. It was clear he was just joking though, the tone and the mirth in his eyes were enough giveaway.

"I have to do the housework first. The dishes, folding clothes, vacuuming.."

"Amor, I already did the first two."

Looking into the sink, you noticed now that he was right. In your morning haze, you didn't pay enough attention, seems like.

"Sorry. Just tired."

Flashing him an embarrassed smile, you finished the rest of your coffee in one go. Squaring your shoulders and letting out a deep sigh, you put the cup down and mentally prepared yourself for the upcoming tasks. Slipping from his hold, you set off in the direction of the living room where the vacuuming was waiting for you.

"Hey, listen."

Reaching for your arm, Alejandro pulled you back gently, turning you to face him again.

"You know we can just do all of that together right? Or we could go upstairs, cuddle while you let me read to you, and we could simply do everything later."

His offer was promising for sure. Some more time to rest was very tempting, and you knew that by his side, maybe sleep would claim you once again — hopefully, this time peacefully. Unfortunately or not, you were stubborn, and it wasn't that easy to spoil your plans that once you made your mind up about.

"I can't, this needs to be done as soon as possible."

"Come on cariño, you can just leave it. You need this more. And I would be lonely in our bed without you by my side."

As usual, he knew he could easily win you over. Who were you to object when he made such good points?

"Fine. But we are doing everything later."

"Alright."

Flashing you a satisfied smile, Alejandro leaned down to kiss you. If you still had anything troubling your mind, it left immediately; his lips were soft and warm against you, and as you let the tension — that you didn't know you had — leave your body, he pulled you closer to himself, rubbing soft circles into your back. You were still amazed by how he always knew exactly what you needed, even when you weren't sure yourself. As the fairytales say: "One true kiss was enough".

Valeria Garza - "quick kiss"

Having such high authority as she did, it was essential for her to keep a strong and harsh facade in front of everyone. At first, understandably you weren't any exception, but it wasn't long before she allowed you to see a different side of her, one that let you know how much she appreciated you.

Still groggy with sleep, you reluctantly turned in bed to face the bathroom door. A muted light creeped into the darker room, indicating the presence of someone behind the door (if the careful noises weren't enough). The idea to have the two areas connected came shortly before moving together, and it wasn't hard to agree on the purchase, knowing both of your preferences aligned. Neither of you regretted it, not even when sometimes it cut one of your resting times short — like right now.

Hearing the lock click and the door open, you slowly sat up, rubbing at your eyes in hopes it would clear up the sleepy fog in your mind. Luckily, to a degree it did, and when a figure was already approaching the bed, you could think more clearly than before.

Valeria was already in her work clothes, and you knew she just got ready to leave for the day. It wasn't hard making out the silhouette of her uniform, and as she got closer to the bed, you could smell the perfume you bought for her previous birthday on her. It made a little smile curl on your lips, and as if mirroring you, her expression turned softer when looking down at you.

"Leaving already?"

"Sorry amor, you know I can't let them run the place without me."

Chuckling a little, you reached for her hand which she easily let you move. Linking your fingers together a little clumsily, you gazed up at her again, a smile still present on your face.

"I plan to cook your favorite tonight."

"I will hurry home then."

Leaning down, she pressed a soft kiss to your lips, then gently slipped her hand out of yours. Stepping over to the nightstand, she picked up her phone and a bag from the floor, then casting another loving look at your form, she left the room, closing the door behind her with a quiet click.

You waited a few minutes to hear the sound of her keys jingling, then as the quiet sweeped back into the house, you let your body fall back into the soft covers. You knew it was difficult for her to be gentle after the years of hardships, but it was okay; she was trying, and Valeria always found a way to let you know how much she loved you with the little things. And if you joked to yourself later that she would take care of herself, if only to come back to a home cooked meal, you had a hard time taking yourself seriously.

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Translations:

mi corazón - my heart

Buenos días mi vida - Good morning my life

amor - love

cariño - sweetheart