#rodolfo parra angst

[savemefromanepicoftimewasted]

In Every Trio, There's Always A Duo

John Price X Reader

You were following behind Soap and Ghost, keeping a close eye on your surroundings while watching their six. Soap was on Ghost’s left, you were on his right, so how could they have gotten to you so easily?

A/N:this is probably the angstiest fic I've written in a while lol, the idea popped up in my head after scrolling tiktok and now I'd like you all to suffer with me(also I know I promised the Gaz fic first, it is coming! I promise!) warnings:mentions of blood, injuries, wounds, gore, depressive thoughts, thoughts of suicide, mentions of death

Price had been the one to introduce you to everyone, saying that you were the newest member of their team. Gaz welcomed you with open arms and even offered to show you around so that you wouldn’t get lost. Soap was happy to greet you, talking too quickly for you to understand even half of what he’d been saying. Ghost was a little more closed off, friendly enough to say hello and introduce himself but didn’t go out of his way to be your friend. It was something you were used to, men in the military were one of three things. Friendly, flirty, or standoffish. While Ghost wasn’t your typical “I’m better than you” military meathead, he wasn’t an open book.

It was all fine though, you had gotten close to the rest of the group and made friends with all of them quick enough. Alejandro and Rudy were much friendlier during the first meeting, Rudy and you swapped recipes and talked about your interests. Ale joked that you would end up stealing his best friend right from under his nose. Of course you would never do that, stealing someone else’s best friend was a big no no in your book.

“I would never steal him away from you! Best friends are sacred.” You smiled over at Ale, watching the way he became flustered ever so slightly.

“Well, thank you then.” He wasn’t sure what to say, most people teased them for being such close friends, this was a nice change.

“Of course, no need to thank me.” Rudy pulled you back into the conversation, explaining how to properly cook one of his mother’s best dishes.

It went on like that for months, you making friends with everyone on the task force, along with Ale and Rudy. When everyone would go home for break you didn’t leave, assuring everyone that you would leave the following day. No one needed to know that you didn’t want to go back to your family, their toxicity pushing you to where you were now. Your mother had been an alcoholic your entire life, your father no better when he actually bothered to come around. Your brother had up and left the moment he turned eighteen, leaving you behind to suffer.

No one needed to know what happened in your past, to them things were good and you had a loving family. They didn’t need to know that you had nothing left waiting for you, no family, and no friends for if you succumbed to your death during a mission. You’d wanted to tell them the truth so badly, that you truly weren’t alright, but you couldn’t.

You were out at the bar with everyone, sitting between Gaz and Soap. The Scot had interrupted you nearly five times now, voice booming as he recalled a tale about how Price had embarrassed himself during a mission. You bit your lip, sinking into your seat and not bothering to try and speak up anymore. The night continued on like that, everyone talking about different things as the drinks flowed. You’d even learnt a little bit more about Ghost, how his parents weren’t the nicest of people, how he’d done what he could to help them. It reminded you of your own situation, abusive parents that refused to take accountability.

It continued on like that for months, you would head out with everyone and continue to turn into nothing but a shadow. Seven turned to six, six turned into five, and soon enough it was only you, Ghost, and Soap going out. Price was too busy with paperwork, Ale and Rudy had their own duties to attend to, and Gaz was seeing someone. You were happy for Gaz, he was a total catch and anyone with eyes could see how attractive he was. Though you missed his corny jokes at the tables when you’d go out. Soap was the main jokester, Ghost throwing in a few from time to time to throw the Scot off his game.

It was strange seeing Ghost without his mask, the first time your jaw dropped open but you refused to comment. Nothing more humiliating than bringing up someone’s scars to them when you’re in public. He ignored everyone who tried to flirt with him, shutting down their advances with a “not interested” before they could utter another word. That same night they left you behind at the pub, you’d gone to the bathroom to relieve yourself before heading back. When you walked out the table was empty and cleaned, surely they were waiting outside. However once you stepped foot outside you noticed the truck you’d all driven in was gone as well.

Your throat closed up as you realized they had completely forgotten you, the base was over ten miles away. Refusing to try and call them, you tugged your jacket closer to your body and made the journey on foot. Price was still awake when you arrived, feet nearly bleeding from the blisters you now had, and tears running down your face.

“Sweetheart? What’s going on?” Price abandoned his paperwork to rush over to you.

You lied and told him you were simply too intoxicated and had forgotten you had gone to the pub with Soap and Ghost, the two men soundly asleep in their own rooms. He didn’t look as if he believed you, but nonetheless he let it slide. You would tell him the truth when you finally felt ready. Instead of pushing for more answers he helped treat your wounds, and gave you some warmer clothes to sleep in for the night.

Your sleep had been restless that night, struggling to get over how much pain you were in physically, and emotionally. Maybe they had just forgotten because you hadn’t talked the entire night? Sure, that’s what it probably was.

Price kept you on light work for the next two weeks, letting your feet heal before putting you into weapons and basic training. You were being sent out on a mission in a few days and he wanted everyone to be prepared. You stuck close by Gaz and Price for the most part, not wanting a repeat of the pub again. Training was easy, you excelled with each weapon you were given and surpassed everyone else, even Ghost.

Laswell was happy with the progress you’d made since joining, happy to know you had integrated so well with everyone else on the team. It didn’t matter if she didn’t know the entire truth, or that you were miserable deep down. She lead the briefing for your next mission, you were to get the intel required and get out, taking out any hostels if needed. You were a little nervous, the last firefight you’d gone into had nearly gotten you killed. Had Rudy not yanked you down behind the pillar you wouldn’t be standing there.

The helicopter hovered as you rappelled down onto the ground, unclipping your belt and grabbing your gun. There was no one as far as you were able to see, though you couldn’t be too careful, enemies were trained to hide in plain sight. Price and Ghost lead the group, guns raised as they begin a slow but cautious walk towards the building. No one noticed the enemy as they slid from behind their own hiding spots. 

The bullets were raining down on the group before any of the guys or yourself could take cover. Price had thrown Gaz behind one of the pillars, Ghost doing the same with Soap to help prevent his teammate from becoming swiss cheese. Alejandro wrapped his arms around Rudy and tackled him to the ground, laying completely still until the sound of the enemy reloading calmed his nerves. It wasn’t until they realized that you were laying out in the open, screams ripping the air apart as you began to slowly bleed out. Ghost’s heart stopped, how the hell did they completely forget about another person! 

“Shit!” Soap turned to run around Soap’s bulky frame, grunting as Ghost grabbed the collar of his tac vest.

“You do that an’ you’re both dead!” Ghost couldn’t risk someone else getting injured, they needed to neutralize the threat.

“We need to save her!” Soap couldn’t watch you bleed out, it would destroy him.

“Stand down!” Ghost winced as the gunfire drew closer, they needed to retreat before they lost anyone else.

The group slowly retreated, watching the way your frame became smaller and smaller with each step they took. Ghost was gnawing the inside of his jaw, angry that he’d let something like this happen under his watch. Shit, they’d have to figure out how to get you back before you ended up bleeding out on the field.

“Ghost!” Gaz was staring over at the older man, eyes wide with terror.

The enemy had grabbed you, running off while they seemed to be too preoccupied figuring out a plan to stop them in their tracks. His blood ran cold, they were surely going to kill you if they couldn’t rescue you soon enough.

“Stop them!” Ghost raised the gun in his arms, aiming down the scope to try and get a shot off.

It was with a sickening realization that he noticed they were all gone, nothing but dust kicked up in the air as they fled. He’d always kept everyone safe, or as safe as he could when they were in enemy territory. This? This was his worst nightmare come to life, someone getting injured and captured because of his actions. How the hell had he not realized you were near him? While you were quiet when needed you always made your presence known.

“We’ll get them back, but we can’t go in with our heads up in the clouds.” Price was angry, they were split up into two groups. 

You were following behind Soap and Ghost, keeping a close eye on your surroundings while watching their six. Soap was on Ghost’s left, you were on his right, so how could they have gotten to you so easily?

“You let her get hurt, you were too busy keeping an eye on Soap that she got hurt!” Gaz stood up harshly, stomping over to where Ghost and Soap were crouched.

“Hey! Let’s not start going at each other’s throats.” Price grabbed onto his tac vest, stopping him before he could reach the other two.

“I saw it, she was walking too far from Ghost and instead of remembering that she was even there he saved Soap instead, and now she’s been taken by the fucking enemy!” Gaz was angry, angrier than he’d been in quite a while.

Ghost wanted to deny it, that he had been keeping an eye on you the entire time, but it would’ve been a dirty lie. It had been obvious over the last few months how little attention they ever spared you, especially him and Soap. The three of you would go out during your leave together and it was simply as if you didn’t exist to them. You were the third wheel during their conversations, trying your hardest to speak up only to be ignored.

Everyone had gone out for a night of drinks and dinner, mainly because Price all but demanded on getting off base for at least one night. Things had been silent for a little while and he needed to release some tension. You and Gaz were up getting drinks for everyone at the bar, the waitress already swinging by to get everyone’s order for food. Price had seen how sullen your expression was, the sparkle your eyes usually had seemed so dull now. Maybe this would help bring it back and things would go back to normal. You were his favorite(don’t tell Simon)and he would do his damndest to make sure you were okay.

“Sorry about the wait, bar was a little busier than expected.” You and Gaz set down all the drinks, being careful not to spill any liquid onto the, for now, clean table.

“No worries love, food won’t be out for a little while anyway.” Price smiled at the way your face flushed, proud that he could still have you blushing like a schoolgirl. 

The conversation seemed to flow easily with everyone, Gaz was telling a story from his teenage years that had everyone laughing. He’d embarrassed himself trying to impress a girl and refused to even look her in the eye afterwards. You opened your mouth to make a comment before Soap cut you off, the entire table echoing with laughter. Clearing your throat quietly you took a quick sip of your drink. 

The chatter died down once the food was brought out, everyone eating in near silence, save for the bustle of the restaurant around you. You wanted to talk about something, anything, but the timing never felt right. So instead of opening your mouth to talk you kept eating, your stomach turning slightly as you pushed the food around the plate. The chance to strike up a new conversation was dulled entirely once Ghost started talking about something. You didn’t bother to listen, eyes locked onto your plate as you tried to muster up the energy to keep eating.

Everyone was pulled into the conversation, offering their own bits and pieces here and there, everyone except for you. Why bother speaking to people who clearly didn’t notice when you did anyway? It would be a waste of energy and you needed to worry about what would happen on your next mission. Only you didn’t notice the way Price’s gaze lingered on you, a frown marring his nearly perfect features.

“If you don’t get them back, then I sure the fuck will.” Gaz knew the risks that rescuing you would entail and right now he was willing to take that risk.

“Kyle, if you go running in there you’ll be dead before you can get to her. I’ll go with you.” Price was willing to do whatever it took to get you back.

“Sir.” Soap felt terrible, had he kept a closer eye on you this wouldn’t have happened.

“No, we need to start thinking about how we’re going to rescue her, I’ll call Laswell.” Price turned and walked off without waiting for anyone to follow.

Ale and Rudy were horrified, they’d known the men for quite a while, having only just met you a few months prior, and watching the way this had gone down? It sickened them, but they wouldn’t voice those opinions out loud. They’d do whatever needed to be done to rescue you, to make sure that you came back home alive.

You, Ghost, and Soap were all sitting in the cafeteria, trying to enjoy the MRE’s that had been given to you earlier that day. A new shipment wouldn’t be in for a few more days so you were suffering through what had been left over. They weren’t terrible, but it was obvious why these were the ones left over from everyone else. Ghost and Soap had been keeping conversation going between them from the moment you sat down. You didn’t bother to say a word, simply ate your rather dry and tasteless food and waited for it to be gone so you could leave.

It was becoming more obvious as each day passed how little they liked having you around, from the way they would simply ignore you, to even brushing you off when you tried to join the conversation. It had stung in the beginning, but this was something that happened quite often, and you weren’t going to sit there and whine like a child. No, instead you learned to hide the disappointment and hurt deep down inside. If John ever found out how you were mentally, he’d have you discharged before you could even blink and stop him.

“‘M tellin’ ya! You nevah believe me!” Soap was laughing at something Ghost had said, you were sure of that, but the effort to even pretend to listen was too much.

“Oh will you stop with that? I don’t need to believe ya if I don’ want to.” Ghost rolled his eyes, shoving another forkful of…something into his mouth.

Neither of them had so much as glanced at you in the twenty minutes it had been since you’d sat down, another reminder that you weren’t wanted. Your throat closed up slightly, a sickening feeling clawing at your chest as you tried to keep the negative thoughts at bay. That was all wiped away when Price walked in, your back straightened immediately. It was a habit you had tried to break so often but never seemed to be able to.

“At ease soldier, just here to let you know that we’ll be headed out at 0400, so I suggest you get ready to go.” Price nodded at you before heading out.

You would all be debriefed on the plane ride over, it was something Price had begun to do so you went into the mission with the details fresh in your mind. Unless things were sensitive, then he wouldn’t run the risk of the wrong person hearing. Maybe this would finally be the mission you’d be left behind, a girl could have dreams right?

Soap was pacing the room, mumbling to himself to figure out how he could even try and get back on your good side. It was his fault that you were not only shot, but also captured. Price had gotten into contact with Laswell the moment they were back to safety. She was furious, asking how you’d managed to get captured when it was a simple recon. Gaz had exploded then, telling her how Ghost and Soap had been too caught up in each other to keep an eye on you. Price had to calm him down, nearly threatening him.

“There’s been an update, and before any of you say anything I need you to watch this and not rip out each other’s throats.” Laswell turned towards the screen, hitting play.

The screen was blurry for a few seconds before your slumped over form became clearer, it was obvious they’d done a shitty patch up job to your wounds. Your wrists and ankles were bound to the chair, blood dripping down your temple.

“If you want her back, we want something as well.” A voice, presumably someone behind the camera, spoke.

You laughed loudly, the sound surely causing your head to throb as you struggled to sit upright in the wooden chair.

“You couldn’t have picked anyone worse to ransom. Everyone knows I'm expendable on the team, nothing but a throwaway.” Your smile tore at Price’s heart, you looked defeated, ready for the comforting embrace of death.

They growled in anger, fist colliding with your jaw as a sickening crack echoed through the speakers. You groaned, spitting blood onto the floor with a huff.

“You don’t understand, they’re never going to come back for me. You’re better off letting me just die.” Your body was begging for death now, pain surging through every nerve ending.

The man turned towards the camera, angry that you seemed so unwilling to help get whatever they were so desperate for.

“You have two days.” The screen suddenly went black, leaving the room completely silent.

Price walked over to Laswell, afraid of what answer he was going to get for the million questions running through his mind.

“How long do we have?” The video wasn’t brand new, they would never actually give the men enough time to properly plan.

“Less than twenty four hours, we found her location from that bracelet you gave her a few months ago.” Ghost’s head whipped around, why was his captain giving you gifts?

“Everyone gear up, we need to get her back before it’s too late.” Price wasn’t going to waste another second, not when you were so close to death.

The plane was fueled up and ready to go by the time everyone headed out, briefing over the plan during the flight. Gaz would go in guns blazing if it meant saving you, and he’d force Ghost and Soap to wait until they got you. It was reckless to think that way of course, and being angry with his teammates wouldn’t do him any good either. Once you were back and safe with them he’d reprimand the other two. It didn’t matter that Ghost ranked higher than him, he’d give those two an earful they’d never forget.

“Rudy, do you have eyes on her?” Price walked over to check the monitor, a small sigh of relief when he saw your outline.

You were still breathing, the motions slow and labored as you struggled with each breath. Rudy was going to stay on the plane, keeping an eye out to make sure no one tried to sneak on. It was a risky move, especially considering he’d be sitting alone, save for Nikolai. They each geared up, checking their weapons ammunition to make sure everything was loaded.

“Hold down the fort til we get back.” Price slapped a hand against Rudy’s shoulder, nodding towards Gaz and Ale to follow him.

Ghost knew better than to argue, Price was their leader and right now he was definitely on his shit list. Soap wasn’t getting off scot free either, it had been both of them that caused this entire situation. No, the focus was solely on you, Ghost could deal with the repercussions later on when you were safe.

Their footsteps were silent, Gaz lockpicking the door before heading inside behind Price and Ale, guns drawn high as they looked around for enemies. The air was thick with tension, sweat beading up underneath Price's hat as he tried to keep his breathing steady. The sound of fists colliding with skin they picked up pace. They’d managed to find you quicker than expected, but what awaited them beyond those doors?

“Tell us where they are!” It was the same voice as your abuser from the tape, they were enraged at how you simply laughed at their anger.

“I’m tellin’ ya, don’ know shit.” You groaned as his fist collided with your stomach, doubling over in the chair as much as you physically could.

They’d been interrogating you for hours, doing whatever they could to get any information from you before they’d finally send you into the afterlife. The pain was excruciating, resonating through your body like a livewire. How long would you last before you would finally succumb to the wounds that adorned your skin?

The sound of gunshots echoed inside the tiny room, deafening you as the pain in your skull amplified by a thousand. You’d surely had a concussion, if the amount of times you’d been punched had anything else to do with it. The scent of gunpowder and blood filled the air, though you were positive almost half of the blood was yours. A hand grabbing your face caused you to flinch back violently, a terrified screaming ripping from your lips.

“Please! No more!” Whoever had killed your captors wouldn’t have the best intentions for you.

“Sweetheart it’s me, we’re here to get you.” Gaz’s voice was calm, even if his heart was nearly beating out of his chest.

“Gaz.” Your eyes filled with tears, staring back at your teammate and friend.

Price stood right behind him, eyes filled with worry at your state, they needed to get you to a medic immediately. Gaz cut through the ropes binding you to the chair, helping you to stand up. It became obvious that one of your legs was broken as you stumbled in his hold, grabbing onto your thigh with a vice grip.

“Fuck, I’m gonna let Price carry you to the plane, we’ll get you hooked up to an IV to get some fluids in you, alright?” You could barely nod but it was enough of a confirmation to hand you over to Price.

He lifted you gently, cradling you in his arms as Gaz and Ale lead the way back out. Ghost and Soap were checking for any stragglers, not wanting to leave anyone else alive. They hadn’t managed to find anyone, or anything else of importance when they met back up with you. Soap could see the way Price was holding you, as if you would turn into dust in his arms. The two men wanted to apologize, to beg for your forgiveness but with Price it wouldn’t be allowed. You needed to make that decision on your own.

“Alright, we’re gonna get you back to base soon enough,” Price had let the team medic take over, checking your vitals and setting up an IV drip.

Ghost opened his mouth to apologize before Gaz’s glare stopped him in his tracks, Soap quietly sat down in a seat without so much as glancing at you. Clearly some things needed to be worked out, and right now they weren’t going to be talked about. Ghost never backed down from a challenge, not when it came to his teammates. He’d gotten enough shit from Soap to last him a lifetime, lord knows the other man never knew when to stop.

That was the whole point though, wasn’t it? He was being taught a very important lesson about how blind he’d become. Maybe not literally, but Ghost was focusing on the wrong things and it was biting him in the ass now. Soap didn’t seem any better, silently sulking in his seat as he went through a million different scenarios in his head. How long had you been suffering in silence while they simply ignored you? How terrible of a friend was he that he didn’t even notice what was going on.

“We left her at the pub one night.” Ghost nearly missed Soap’s words over the engine of the plane.

“What?” His head whipped around, when the hell had they genuinely forgotten you during a night out?

“Remember O’Malley’s? It was that one.” Soap felt the guilt eating at his soul.

Everything began to hit him like a freight train, they were neglecting you both and off the battlefield. You were an amazing teammate and an even better friend and they’d completely taken you for granted. They didn’t know anything about you aside from that you’d joined the army at eighteen and were now with the task force. The first thing Ghost would do was apologize and do whatever he could to help ease your pain.

“We’re about to land, already let them know we’ve got injuries.” The routine medic, a man named Jacob that couldn’t be any older than twenty two, began to prep you for departure.

You’d need surgery to set your leg properly, the break was most likely a shatter which would cause an intense infection. Nurses ran out to grab the gurney, rushing you inside to get you prepped and ready. Price stood at the top of the ramp, back turned towards everyone else.

“You will not go near her at all, she’s going to need space to process and heal. Do I make myself clear?” Price glanced over his shoulder at Soap and Ghost.

“Sir I-” “I said, do I make myself clear sergeant?” Price couldn’t let his emotions take over, but losing a teammate because of someone else’s negligence.

“Yes sir.” Soap straightened up in his seat, ignoring the way he felt like a scorned child.

“Good, we’ll have a debrief once she’s out of surgery.” You wouldn’t be joining, but once he knew you would be alright Price could finally relax.

The doctor and nurses worked quickly to fix the broken bones littered across your body, extracting pieces of bone that had dug into the muscle of your thigh. It took them over five hours to fix you completely, relaying the news to Price. His shoulders relaxed ever so slightly, the worry that you wouldn’t pull through finally gone. Now it was all about making sure you healed properly.

Laswell called them to the debriefing, waiting until everyone was seated before beginning with getting every piece of information. Her expression didn’t give away any emotion of how she felt, it wasn’t the smartest thing to do, getting attached to the task force. She was a little upset with them though, being unaware of your surroundings could cost your life.

“Unfortunately, she’s going to have to be discharged..permanently.” Price slammed his hands down.

“Absolutely not! You are not sending her off after everything that’s happened.” How could they just throw you away so easily?!

“I’m sorry John, this is even outside of my own jurisdiction. She got injured during a mission and might not be able to walk properly for a few years.” Fuck, you were going to be devastated hearing this.

“If she’s gone, then so am I.” Price was risking a lot for you, but you’d saved his life countless times before.

Laswell sighed, running a hand over her face before heading off to contact god knows who and see if they could keep you as part of the task force. He hadn’t fought to get this team together for nothing, and he would do whatever he could to keep everyone together. Things would work out, they had to.

—---------

You’d been struggling through physical therapy, learning to walk after having your right femur reconstructed was not easy. Price had found you the best physical therapist in all of England, determined to make sure you made a full recovery. It warmed your heart that he was so willing to help, to make sure that you were safe. He’d been by your side for months, helping you settle into your apartment and all but moving into the spare bedroom.

“Sweetheart, you’re doing amazing.” Price was standing at the opposite end of the walk way, ready to catch you in case you lost your balance.

“Fucking hurts.” You winced, arms shaking as you struggled to keep yourself upright.

Price hadn’t wanted to tell you, but Ghost and Soap had wanted to apologize, to sit down and have a discussion about everything. He wouldn’t push the subject if you disagreed, you deserved to be treated with respect first and foremost. It would be better to wait until you were back in the apartment where you could relax. Maybe he could give you one of his sweaters to wear, you always seemed to relax when wearing his clothes.

Your physical therapist was happy with your progress, saying that you were exceeding expectations and could possibly go down to three days a week instead of four. It made you feel a little bit better, knowing you were doing so well. You hadn’t been in the apartment for longer than two minutes before Price was wrapping one of his jackets around your shoulders. It was something he tended to do when he had bad news.

“Now you have every right to say no, but Johnny and Simon want to come by and talk.” John waited to see how you would react, knowing physical therapy had been a good day he felt optimistic.

“What’s there to even talk about? That they don’t see me as anything other than an annoyance? John, we're having a good day, I don’t want to ruin it.” Your eyes were pleading with him.

He wanted to argue that this conversation needed to happen or else things would only get worse for everyone. So, instead of listening to your pleas of “don’t you dare call them” John let them know to come over. He’d make it up to you later with a great dinner and some dessert. After all it was the very least he could do after subjecting you to their antics. Hopefully Johnny didn’t end up saying the wrong thing and pissing you off even more.

—-----

No one had dared utter a word for nearly ten minutes once Johnny and Simon arrived. The taller of the two had forgone even his surgical mask, muttering how it felt wrong to hide. Johnny was twiddling his thumbs, waiting for someone to break the ice so that he could make amends. John had made you a cup of cocoa(extra marshmallows and whipped cream as always). Simon sighed to himself before straightening up in his seat on the couch.

“No amount of I’m sorries will ever be enough for what happened. We never truly realized how shitty our actions were because we’d gotten so used to routine that adding someone else didn’t feel natural. I’m not saying that as an excuse, you didn’t deserve what happened, and I fully blame myself for you getting taken and for all of this.” Simon gestured vaguely to where you were perched in what was apparently John’s favorite chair.

You glanced at Simon over the rim of your mug, sipping the warm liquid as you soaked in his words. Simon wanted to mention the dollop of whipped cream on the end of your nose, but John beat him to it. He reached over and gently turned your head to face him, wiping off the cream with his thumb. Your smile was radiant, eyes sparkling as you stared back at your captain. 

Oh.

Oh.

This was something entirely new, but it also explained why John had been so angry that you were going to be discharged originally. Somehow they’d convinced Laswell, and whoever else, that you were too much of an essential player to lose. You were in love, and here they were intruding on an otherwise very personal moment. John suddenly seemed to remember the other two were there, awkwardly clearing his throat before sitting back in his seat.

“It’s going to take a while before I can fully trust you guys again, I’ve been through a lot in my life but having my teammates basically throw me to the wolves? It fucking hurts.” Maybe it was time to finally come clean about your life and who you truly were.

You couldn’t stop the words from spilling out, telling them about your abusive home life growing up before finally making it out and finding a purpose in life. How on every break you would stay on base and make sure it looked like you’d left when they all came back home. You didn’t want their pity, you just needed them to finally understand why you were hurt by their actions.

John had carefully scooped you up and placed you into his lap when tears began to slide down your cheeks, comforting you the best way he could. Simon could understand your pain, having dealt with abuse from his own father growing up. It was a reminder that sometimes the strongest people were often hiding the darkest past. He’d done the same thing for years, refusing to open up and let anyone close.

“We really just wanted to apologize for treating you like shit, and wanting to make sure that you were doing better now.” Johnny could see that even being shot, tortured, and left for dead that you still had that shine to you.

“I know, I’m just going to need time to process everything, it hasn’t been easy.” You wanted to forgive them, but deep down the feeling that it would happen all over again ate at your mind.

“I understand lass.” Johnny nodded, he would gladly give you time to process and even see if you could forgive him.

John set you back into the chair so he could walk Johnny and Simon out, promising to keep in touch if anything changed. He wouldn’t disrespect your decision, and with the other two being on board he wasn’t going to argue. Now it was time to sit and think about what he could make for you to make up for everything.

“Hey, I just want to say thank you for everything you’ve been doing, it means a lot.” You pushed yourself off the chair slowly, stepping over to John who looked seconds away from panicking.

“You don’t need to thank me love, it’s my pleasure.” He kept his hands out, ready to help in case you needed it.

“You’re doing a lot more than you might think, so yes, I do need to thank you.” You rested your hands on his shoulders, slightly winded at how far you’d had to walk.

John’s hands slid to your waist, pulling your body closer to his. He wanted to lie and say it was only because he was afraid you’d stumble. How would you react to hearing about his true feelings? Knowing that he’d harbored a crush for frankly much too long than was appropriate to be honest. Your gaze landed on his face, lips parted as you watched the way his eyes dilated ever so slightly. John couldn’t stop himself before he was kissing you, lips pressed softly against yours. You would be a liar if you’d said you hadn’t dreamt of this before, hoping that John felt the same way towards you.

You were the first to pull away, face flushed and lungs desperate for air as you clung to the cotton shirt John wore. A small chuckle slipped through his lips, fingers digging into your hips as he pulled your bodies closer.

“I’ve wanted to do that for quite a while if I’m being honest.” Your heart was racing, had you really heard him correctly?

“So have I.” You rested your forehead against his chest, relishing in the warmth he exuded.

Neither of you made to move from the kitchen, simply wrapped in each other’s embrace. You couldn’t forgive Simon and Johnny for causing the damage they did. But maybe they helped push you into the right direction. tagging: @gaylemonshark

[here-but-forgotten]

you lost me. / valeria/wife!reader.

content notes — ex-wife!valeria. sweet alejandro. little shit rodolfo. mean valeria. plot heavy. el sin nombre foreshadowing. rudy weirdo rizz.

part one \ part two

A confident knock echos from the door through the walls, dancing around your ears as the noise registered, for you to finally walk to the door that had never been knocked before,

With a slender foggy window lending you a quick glimpse of the figure, you open the door, your eyes landing on a chest where you expected the eyes to be.

“Hello,” he starts, confident but still speaking volume, “Could I ask you some questions?”

You look up at him, blinking; not fully in a uniform but not in casual clothing. Lines around his eyes. Facial hair turning grey. Dark eyes. Intense eyes.

“Um,” You start, adverting your eyes from his, “Could I ask why first?”

He adjusts, halfway awkward, shifting his weight.

“That’s an understandable ask,” He answers, relaxing a little, “I’m Colonel Alejandro Vargas, I wanted to ask you some questions related to Valeria Garza.”

You pause, blinking.

“Your last name is what?”

“Vargas.”

You stifle an insecure giggle,

“I thought you said ‘Vergas’—“

“No—“ Alejandro cuts you off, letting a small smile escape from him, holding in a laugh, “no, God didn’t curse me with that.”

You let yourself giggle, covering your mouth and turning a bit away as he lets out the chuckle he held in, laughing with you.

“Sorry,” You laugh a little, finally taking a breath, “What are you asking about?”

He pulls his demeanor together, a bit more serious,

“If I have been told correctly, you are who she claimed to be her wife, yes?”

“At one time I was, yes,” You shift, “Not anymore.”

“Did she leave any sort of technology here?”

You tilt your head a bit, looking up at him.

“She did. Is that a problem?”

Alejandro sighs at your inquisition.

“I have some reason to believe she took something that could track her location with her when she has done work for me. If she did, there is a lot someone could gain from that if they did track it.”

You look aside, thinking about that damned dinged up phone.

“Would it be a threat to me?”

“I would say, without much other info, that yes it could be a threat to you.”

You don’t respond.

“I don’t know you, but I do know what has recently happened,” He starts, “If someone could track it, she could track it, and could track you.”

“Do you want me to give it to you?”

“If you are able, yes.”

You turn, leaving the door open,

“You.. You can come in, if you’d like.”

You move, his footsteps following you briefly and stopping as you walked further into the home, finding the half-held together phone that she left that you had kept in what used to be her bedside table. You stop, looking at the bed; the new sheets on it looked nice, it finally looked comfy, like somewhere safe. And theres a small pang in your chest, that the person who used to make it warm was gone, the person who was why the bed wasn’t just a humble full size, but,

it was for the best, and you told your chest that everyday.

You deserve someone who gives you the time of day, who makes time for you, even if they’re busy.

And you turn on your toes, walking back to the entrance way that the Colonel sat at—

Colonel Alejandro Vargas.

Col. A. Vargas

CAV.

“Do you think, by any chance, that you were contacting her with this phone?”

You look to him— his hip leaned against the counter with his arms casually crossed, his eyes gentle but alert, his expression once relaxed turned into his eyebrow raised.

“It is a possibility,” He murmurs, “It seems like the two of us learned a lot recently.”

“Valeria?”

“No, you and I.”

His stare is unwavering, not so assertive but ever confident, making you shift on your feet as he watched you.

“Yeah. It would seem like the two of us have.”

He lets out a small hum in response, eyeing the phone being held together by tape and faith.

“I’ve seen that one before,” He says, lowly, to himself more than you.

“She has a lot of phones.”

“Is that so?” he asks, watching you.

“Yeah, she probably had 5, at my guess now,” You shift, “But I know that you guys sometimes have a lot of phones—“

“2. We normally have 2.”

His gaze is a bit intense, not directed at you, yet it still sent a small shake through your body; there was a certain charm, yet that didn’t stop the intensity of his thoughts.

Silently, you offer the phone to him, looking up to him, soft blinks trying to pull him from his thoughts.

“Thank you,” Alejandro says after a moment in his thoughts, delicately taking the phone from your outstretched hand, fingers brushing yours softly; his touch is hot, like he was running on coals—

“Did she ever introduce you to any military personnel?”

“No.”

He raises his eyebrow at that.

“None?”

“No. I only found out about you from her accidentally saying something.”

Theres a type of pity in his gaze, maybe even guilt.

“Does she have any sort of surveillance on this property?”

“No. I don’t think she would come back for it anyway. Frankly, she hasn’t been back since she left.”

“When was that?”

“A week or so now.”

“Did she introduce you to.. anyone?”

“Not really.”

“Did that not concern you at all?”

His tone is gentle, lacking any judgement.

“It should have. But love makes you dumb sometimes.”

He tilts his head in an agreement, glancing down at the phone.

“Have you entered this phone or deleted anything off of it?”

“I’ve looked around it, but I haven’t deleted anything. It’s all as I found it.”

Alejandro nods, glancing off to the side for a moment, letting you watch his face; his hair isn��t really “done”, only combed back with fingers, some curls breaking free from pomade, curling around his ear.

“I’m sorry you had to go through all of that,” he says after a moment.

“I’m sure you’ve gone through worse.”

“I chose to go through worse. But you didn’t.”

You watch him, his words full of soft mercy.

“I suppose I didn’t, but I made it.”

He nods again, looking back to you.

“I’m going to leave you a number. You call it if you ever need something. Especially if she comes back to give you a hard time,” He explains, back to his colonel voice— you assume— not leaving much room for discussion.

You watch him, his movements are confident, leaving a small writing pad with the top sheet scribbled on, a phone number, a title— “los vaqueros”

“The cowboys?” You ask tentatively, looking up at him.

God he’s big.

Shush.

“I don’t have time to explain all of that,” He says, a bit affectionately, a little smile, “But if you need something, you call this without hesitation, okay?”

“What if it’s stupid?”

His eyes are a bit soft.

“It won’t be.”

His eyes leave you, looking at the counter, noticing the little shine on the countertop— still where Valeria left it.

“Did she really walk out and just leave her ring?”

You don’t look at it.

“Yeah.”

He rolls his eyes.

“She’s a walking headache.”

“She’s a charming walking headache.”

“I’m aware,” he grumbles shortly, not irritated at you.

“I,” you start, grabbing his attention immediately, “I don’t know what happened with you, really, but I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

“She’s not your problem to apologize for anymore.”

“I know, but it still sucks to go through something like that, no matter who did it.”

His gaze is soft.

“You’re a very sweet woman.”

His eyes glance away from you, a bit awkwardly,

“I have one… thing to tell you, but it’s not fun.”

You pull a deep breath through your chest, crossing your arms over your chest,

“Rip the bandage off.”

Alejandro shifts, leaning against the counter, mimicking your crossed arms,

“She had that marriage license nullified, somehow, a while ago now. Maybe half a year.”

The news should rock you, pull through your bones, crush your soul a bit— but it’s hard to be disappointed by something you have no faith in.

You stand for a moment, letting the words set in, waiting for your stomach to fall, to crumble your very being up into a useless little paper ball, but it doesn’t come. Your head isn’t light. Your feet are grounded. Nothing sways your balance.

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” You finally say, not looking at him.

Alejandro is quiet for a moment, tense.

“You’ve already told me to not apologize, but,” He pauses, shifting his weight to one of his feet, “That’s why I didn’t fight back, when she approached me. She told me it was long done.”

“You can’t control her bullshit.”

That pulls a laugh out of him, from deep in his chest, releasing the tension he held.

“Yeah, I guess I can’t.”

He shifts again.

“What’s more frustrating is there is other— falsified— paperwork that now says you’re dead.”

You shift, uncomfortably.

“So now there are documents that don’t line up. On one, you two have divorced— in the United States— and on another you’ve been dead.”

“What would she gain from lying about all of that?”

He sighs.

“I have no clue. I cannot, within my position, just assume things based out of interpersonal actions; however, I don’t think anything innocent would come out of that.”

“She didn’t falsify a death certificate, did she?”

“No. That’s what tipped all of this off.”

You finally move a bit, letting your body relax.

“Something is up with her. I have no idea what.”

Alejandro is lost in thought for a moment, staring at the opposite wall; you watch him, the gears turning in his head with a focused but somewhat serene expression, eyes slightly moving as the follows his thoughts—

“I should be going now. Please, use that number. There are dangers she could have exposed you to without you knowing,” Alejandro murmurs, walking to the door, you silently following him. You grasp the door knob as he enters the door way, your hand gently touching his back— the touch making him jump a little.

“Thank you,” You murmur, your touch leaving him resting your hand on the door, meeting your eyes over his shoulder.

“Of course.”

You close the door, watching his figure walk to a jeep— confident stride, nice body hidden under military clothes, gentle eyes—

Don’t you dare.

You breathe deep, moving back into the home, the sunlight twinkling in through the curtains, warm sunset light dancing like little figures, warming up the light in the room. His voice— his words— rattle around your head, her antics annoying you more than they were able to hurt you—

This has been long dead. It has been dead, since she seems to have officially killed it, but now the dead weight had been removed, like matted hair that couldn’t be saved. It’s been shaved off; it wasn’t fun, but now it’s better. You are better. You are growing back. You are lighter. You are able to breathe.

You turn on your toes, walking back to the counter to look at the pad with the number written on it; his handwriting, or whoever wrote this, isn’t bad but it’s not pretty. A bit slanted. Legible. You take the pad in your hand, feeling over the writing— written with a ballpoint pen— before pulling out your own phone, entering it under a quick little new contact, marking it LV.

If she gets to have cryptic contacts, I do too.

You place it back down, looking into the greater house, warmth flooding in the sunlight.

You think it should hurt more— something so momentous ending— yet it also makes sense. It died slowly. There is no cruel, fast pain in a slow death. There is slow pain, the type that slowly makes your joints go still, where your chests twists and breaks, piece by piece, like peeling off old paint. It wasn’t a quick death. There was no quick cut, no guillotine, no bullet, no knife. It was a slow poison. It was terminal. When you realize it’s dying, it hurts. You wonder what you did wrong. You blame every piece that you didn’t do on yourself, just to try to rationalize it. To try to make it make sense. But sometimes, death comes, and sometimes it is slow, and sometimes it is quick, but death has to happen. It has to. Death allows for rot. Rot allows for growth. Growth is new life. There is no new life without the rot that death provides. But there is still no less hopeless ending than death, if you are not looking for the new buds of flowers.

You breathe, escaping your thoughts for a moment, looking out the windows, sun pungent and powerful.

And it should hurt more, that instead of even growing up and coming to you to say she wanted it to end, that she decided to do it on her own, to cheat with two people, to just use you as a housekeeper until she came back, just to be a bedwarmer. But at this point, it wasn’t anything new. It was the first infidelity— that you knew of— and it was two cases of it, yet it wasn’t surprising. Disappointing, but not surprising. Disappointing as a situation, not disappointing for her. Theres a few sentences, a few conversations that haunt you, between you and her, still; when her attention was on you, she still spilled her rotten blood onto you, almost to temper you into it—

Things about her impatience with partner, things about how she really didn’t like talking about her feelings, how she found relationships as a distraction. How she never admitted her feelings, she just let them die. How she knew that work would always mean more to her than a relationship. And how she tried to shroud it in telling you how you were the exception— you were the one she would put work behind for, the one she’d admit her feelings for, the one she’d stay loyal for. Exceptions to a rule are delicate. And sometimes, they’re just a lie. And how she had no hand in picking out the house, she let you pick it out, like a dog picking their favorite kennel.

Your eyes leave the sun light, blinking the haze away as you notice movement outside, grabbing the notepad quickly— throwing it in a drawer quickly— and striding to the door, an all too familiar figure standing, not moving.

Moving away from the door, you tap the newly formed contact, moving to the bedroom as the phone rang against your ear.

“¿Hola?”

It wasn’t Alejandro.

“Um, hello,” You awkwardly start, the other person breathing a sharp breath, “Colonel Ve-Vargas gave me this number in case I needed something.”

There is a pause.

“Oh. You.”

Pause.

“Is something wrong?”

“Valeria Garza is back, and she has a man with her.”

Pause.

“Do not answer the door, and keep away from it. Hang tight. Understand?”

“Yes, sir,” you say in a softer voice, the other’s breath hitching at that.

“Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?”

“You don’t have to.”

“Then you’ll see me soon.”

Click.

Ominous.

His voice wasn’t Alejandro’s, something a bit more smooth about his delivery, ever slightly colder.

And so you moved to the bedroom door, silently closing and locking it, watching the covered windows for any movement. You sit on the floor beside the bed, as to not have your silhouette in the window, watching. Waiting. There is a soft distant noise of talking, Spanish, a bit rushed and irritated. Her Spanish. Romance languages can be many things, but she fully embraced the Roman cruelty in her words. Footsteps. Around the windows, tracing the house. Only two pairs of footsteps.

Until.

A bit of irritated shouting, from the door, following the footsteps around the house. You move along the floor, against the wall closest to the window, trying to listen—

“— do you think you’re doing?”

“do not lecture me—“

“go back to the cars. now.”

The same slightly grumpy voice, and hers.

You follow the trail, standing in the kitchen, keeping an ear out.

“I own this property—“

“Valeria, I cannot tell you how little of a shit I give. You directly disobeyed an order.”

“It was an overreach!”

“Don’t care.”

“Rodolfo—“

“That’s Sergeant Major to you.”

“I am going to stab you.”

“You won’t.”

Pause.

“I just want to talk to her.”

“Leave your gun then.”

“But—“

“I’m impressed you got someone who wanted to spend the rest of their life dealing with you.”

Pause.

“Leave the gun and I’ll let you speak to her.”

“What are you, my father?”

“If I was your father, you wouldn’t act like a fucking brat.”

Pause.

“I really want to kill you sometimes.”

“The feeling is mutual.”

Knock knock.

You move to the door, peering to see a male figure standing outside of the door. You slowly open the door.

“hello?”

“Neña—“

“Shut up. I’m the one who spoke to you on the phone,” He cuts her off, “Do you want to speak to her or do you want her gone?”

“I can speak to her. I would appreciate if you stayed though,” You respond calmly, sweetly, looking up at him, his gaze gentle on you.

“I wanted to speak to you alone,” Valeria starts, her voice scarily gentle, keeping her tone even.

“I don’t want that.” You say firmly, the man standing between you and her. Another man hangs behind, looking like a dog with his tail between his legs.

The man nods, staying where he was, but moving a bit to let you see Valeria.

“Do you not trust me anymore?” Valeria asks softly, her gaze soft. A trap.

“Do you think I’m that stupid?”

He snorts.

“I know I’ve messed up, but I miss you.”

“Okay.”

He cracks a small smirk, turning his gaze away from the two of you.

“I didn’t mean to leave you behind.”

“You can accidentally hit someone with your car and it’s still manslaughter.”

She rolls her eyes, her façade dropping for a moment, only to recompose herself.

“Can I come inside?”

You look at the man, his gaze both interested and bored, his eyes meeting yours for a moment. You move, pulling his forearm inside the house, his body moving stiffly at the movement, following you. Valeria shoots you a glare, following. The other man stands outside.

“Lovely, I really never noticed how bad we had gotten,” Valeria says, reaching for you as you move back, the man standing beside you, becoming a silent comforting presence, “But I don’t want it to be over.”

“I gave you as much as I could, and that wasn’t enough. So how would now be any different?”

“I can change.”

“Just between you and me,” He interjects, leaning towards you, inches from your ear, “She’s been a bitch since she was 8 and couldn’t find the tooth she had lost.”

You giggle.

“This has nothing to do with you,” She sneers, glaring up at him. He only shrugs with a slight smile.

“This is exhausting, you know,” you say, pulled together, calm, “you can’t start caring about something once it’s dead.”

“It’s not dead, it just needs to be restarted.”

You blink.

“Valeria, we’ve been dead for months.”

“We haven’t—“

“What about that marriage certificate mess?”

She pauses.

“It was for your own good, I don’t want someone finding you because of me.”

The mans head tilts a bit in your peripheral vision.

“Aside from us not legally being one anymore, you barely gave me the time of day. I could be right in front of you and you would ignore me. I was here the entire time, like a fucking little kid, waiting on you, only for you to never give me anything in return.”

“Relationships aren’t transactional,” She says, bitter. Thick with bitter. Patience running thin.

“No, they aren’t. But they do take work on both sides to work. And I can’t carry the weight of two.”

Valeria is quiet.

“I wish you had left me wandering about you, it would have saved me a lot of heartache,” you pause, “You made me feel like I was your world, then you ripped it away the minute I accepted that.”

“You like accusing me of a lot,” She snaps, the sweet glaze finally washed away, “I gave you everything I could.”

“‘Everything I could’ is disingenuous if you had to divide it three ways.”

Valeria sighs, deep, angry,

“If you would just fucking shut up for once and let me talk you would act right!” Her voice booms, flinch taking your gaze away, your head light as your thoughts block themselves out. You stand spinning, feet still but disoriented, and all of a sudden, you were small again. You were just polishing dishes to make her happy. You were throwing out that perfume you loved and she hated. You were waiting up until you fell asleep on the couch, only to wake up alone with dirty dishes to clean. You are small again.

“Garza.”

His voice cuts through the haze, confident, unwavering. His touch rests on your shoulder blade, weighing you back down on the uncomfortable reality.

“This doesn’t fucking include you.”

He sighs, his fingers gently rubbing your back, warmth seeping through your clothes.

“Could you act grown for once?”

Valeria is quiet.

“Your picket-fence has been sharp as knives. You never loved me. You wanted to collect the hearts you took.”

“I hate how you make me out to be the bad guy.”

“Valeria, I am tired of you. I am so very tired. You owe me so much sleep.”

“Why do you want to give up on us?”

You sigh. The two of you would just talk in circles until one of you died from exhaustion.

“Valeria, I could give you my heart and you would forget you had it. I could tell you time and time again the extent of my love and you would find no worth in it. I could drop everything to make a little piece of your life easier and it isn’t enough for you.”

“You were enough.”

“You say that like a faithless prayer. If I ever was enough you wouldn’t run to other people. If I was enough you wouldn’t have attacked me over a simple question. You wouldn’t assume that I was the thing that always hurt you. You wouldn’t only think of me first when something went wrong. And it doesn’t matter what I tell you, because I know you won’t believe me.”

“Why wouldn’t I believe you?”

“You haven’t believed me before,” You hesitate, the mans presence beside you evident, vulnerable, “I held out every night for you. I thought you’d notice me— not my body, not my wit, not my helpfulness— but me. And that never happened. I told you I felt bad, and I ripped my heart apart to try to get you to care, and the only thing you did with it was turn it against me. You told me I could lean on you then guilted me when I was too heavy.”

You shift, swallowing thick, trying to soothe your constraining throat,

“I remember when you acted like you loved me. You acted like I was your favorite toy, like I was the one you’d keep on your bed, the one you’d put in pretty dresses and kiss before bed. Then the minute— the fucking second— I thought you would be gentle with me, you ripped it all away. I sought after you day after day after day and I got nothing. And now I know, you had the chance to. I just wasn’t your priority.”

She stares. Your eyes tingle.

“I kept convincing myself the more attention and love I gave you, the more I’d receive. That when you didn’t reciprocate, you were just in a bad space. But it’s been years. There hasn’t been a day where I could just talk to you. And I’ve learned now you were spending them with other people. I’ve learned I’m the thing you keep in your back pocket when no one else will talk to you. I’ve learned that I’m the pretty toy you show off that you got just to throw me under your bed. I cannot imagine that you love me when I have never been what you wanted. Bad times come, but bad times don’t mean you run away from love. You go towards it. And you found it else where.”

You swollow again, choking on your own throat,

“I’ve been the stupid schoolgirl chasing someone who never looked me in the eye this entire time. And I feel stupid for it now, but I choose now to break out of it. You never claimed you love me so until we were dead and gone. You can’t dig up the corpse to hold it.”

There is silence. Your heartbeat. Your breathing. Valeria’s eyes burning into you.

“You kept me like a secret but I kept you like an oath.”

Valeria sighs.

Valeria is quiet.

Her eyes don’t meet yours.

“Go back to base, Garza. Before anymore actions are taken over this.”

“You don’t get to be in charge of me—“

“I am. Go back.”

He stands, she stands, finally moving from her place, shooting a glare over her shoulder as she slammed the door behind her, the same pots hitting the wall in her wake. A car door slamming in the same manner. Ignition. The sound leaving in the distance.

You stood, crossing your arms over yourself.

Breathe in, breathe through, breathe deep, breathe out.

The man beside you awkwardly shifts.

“I never got your name,” You say, a little croak in your voice.

“Rodolfo. Sergeant Major Rodolfo Parra.”

You nod to yourself.

“Thank you.”

He hums a quiet response, relaxing his frame.

“I haven’t seen many to go toe to toe with her.”

“Is that a good thing?”

“I would say so,” Rodolfo glances past you, “She’s always had an assertiveness to her, but it devolves into brattiness if pushed enough.”

Quiet.

“Did you two have fights like that before?”

“We’ve had a couple. I joked I would call them the Great Wars. But now I just feel maimed.”

“If I had known about you earlier, I would have warned you earlier,” his voice is soft.

“Have you known her for long?”

“Yeah, grew up in the same area. I vomited on her at her quinceañera.”

“That was you?” You ask with a soft giggle, the noise pulling a soft smile from him.

“Did she still complain about it?”

“Yeah, yeah she did. I thought it was a little silly to still be mad about.”

“I did her a favor. I got her to take off that god-awful dress without having to seduce her.”

“I take it she’s never been able to charm you?”

“No.”

You laugh at that dry response, a comfortable little smile resting on his face, looking down at you with a certain gentleness.

“I don’t handle brats very well.”

You shoot him a curious look.

“Not right now.”

You glance away.

Quiet.

“Thank you for.. all of that.”

He nods.

“I would suggest you try to leave this place. She knows the location too well.”

“I…” You start, his eyes heavy on you, “It’s embarrassing, I don’t really have a way to do that.”

“Did she emotionally trap you to believe that she would be your sole provider while using that to control you in the way she wanted so you were pushed out of any career or financial independence?”

You pause.

“Yeah I guess, sergeant therapist.”

He snickers.

He stops, thinking over your words.

“If you would like, I can set you up living accommodations. No obligation to pay me back in anyway. No obligation to stay. How does that sound?”

“If you weren’t a pretty sergeant I’d say you were trying to kidnap me.”

He shifts a bit at that, flushing a little—

Is that blush?

“Well, If I did that, I’d have Alejandro down my throat. And it’s Sergeant Major.”

“Oh, you two are like that?”

He shoots you a glare.

“You have a dirty mind.”

You giggle, his face having another little smile break out.

“no, we are not,” he says with a head shake like a disappointed father.

You think, not fully clear, but the thought of Valeria randomly popping back up evident. You wouldn’t have to hear the door slam again. The walls rattling because you didn’t win the word game, or because you did. You could do your own dishes. You could strip her from you finally, pulling out the turpentine and mineral spirits, wiping yourself clean with Ivory.

“I think we could work something out like that,” you say softly, sweetly, looking up at him properly. Two moles. Soft eyes. Longer nose than Alejandro.

“You can call me Rudy, if you’d like.”

[cod-dump]

Teen!Rudy visiting teen!Ghost: How many swords do you have?

Teen!Ghost: Sword of a lot

Teen!Rudy, immediately turning to leave the room: Blocked

Teen!Ghost, jumping in front of him: Parried!

Teen!Rudy: *stares intensely with his eye twitching*

Teen!Ghost: Uh-

(Downstairs)

Teen!Gaz: Ale, do you think it was a good idea to leave Rudy and Si alone?

Teen!Alejandro, focused on his switch: Rudy can defend himself

Teen!Gaz, hearing a yelp: Yea, that’s what I’m concerned about

[brokenpieces-72]

Lasting Moments

Navigation | COD Gangster AU

There was a sharp pain and a cry followed by yelling and more shots. You couldn’t see anything still but you heard voices. Your ears were still ringing though. While the entire chaos outside the bag on your head goes underway, you remain still. You feel your consciousness slipping. The shouting fades and relief washes over you as you put together who it is. You wince as you hear a man trying to get your attention to check if you’re conscious. You move and let out a groan from the pain.

“I’m gonna pick you up now.” You hear. You don’t bother with fighting, when you feel to arms dig underneath your back and legs. Now you’re being carried and fighting to stay awake, the broken bones and bruise keeping your body from relaxing. The ringing has died down by the time you’re sat down on a softer surface. The man reaches behind you to cut your wrists free and then your legs. The bag is taken off.

Alex assesses your damage, seeing bruises on your face and lays you down. He grimaces with you when you wince from the pain.

“Keep your eyes open kid. You’re doing great.” Alex says as he continues working. You hear shouting somewhere else in the building, Russian and Scottish. You can guess who it is.

“Are they still in prison?” You ask. Alex nods.

“How long have I been gone?” You ask, gathering as much information, trying to focus. If you could get yourself to focus, you could keep your eyes open.

“A couple days. Went to your apartment, Charly found me there, and then-“ Alex’s explain action is cut off seeing you flinch and hearing your cry after an audible crack in your wrist. He thinks quickly, making a small splint for you from the first aid kit. After wrapping your wrist he wraps it again with your red scarf. “Then we found your scarf. Kept going in that direction, did some map checking and found this shitty hideout.”

“Phone. I need to call Laswell.” You say, trying to stand up, still shaken, the bullet still inside your shoulder.

“Don’t move. Let me get it out first.” Alex says carefully unzipping your hoodie. You shiver, having only your torn shirt underneath. Eyes stay looking up as Alex carefully shifts your sweater off your shoulder where the bullet hit. There are no words as you just hear sounds of items shuffling in the kit. At first he tried pulling it out, but your cursing made it clear it doing ti that way would just be painful. He cut the wound open a little more and tried a second time. This time you bit down on the sleeve of your hoodie, your teeth getting a vice grip on the material. He got to cleaning it and then patching it up.

"Alright that will have to do for now." He says. As you tug your hoodie sleeve back on you hear some hard Scottish cursing from the other room. If that was how Charly interrogated and you had first hand experience with Alejandro's methods, you could only imagine what it Price would be like. Hopefully Charly would be successful.

............

The men of the 141 were getting anxious in their cells. You were missing and they had no updates from Graves. Not that they wanted him to talk. They were getting impatient.

“You think Graves was telling the truth?” Kyle asks aloud. It was a question they had all been considering but couldn’t my be sure of. Graves had tried to get them arrested before, and they understood why. It didn’t mean he hadn’t been on a few witch hunts.

“Possible. Not bloody likely but possible.” Ghost says. Kyle looks at Price who isn’t saying much.

“Boss?” Price doesn’t look up at Kyle, but spoke volumes. Kyle isn’t expecting much from Price to respond. Enough has been said. Graves was 30/70 when it came to the truth. You were a 50/50. You were smart, bold, and hardworking. You didn’t shirk responsibilities. Even for the small things you offered to help. Was it all just to get close or had Graves pulled a fast one to keep you safe? Fuck.

Then there was the sound of a can being tossed. The group looks down trying to inspect it through the bars. Then it combusts.

…..

You have everything you need. You’re ready to turn it all in, exonerating the 141 and Los Vacqueros. You could get them out. With a bit of help from Graves you could get the 141 to look innocent. They were there seeking out drugs, undercover. You can disprove the officers that claimed to be undercover. Nolan had been difficult to crack, but Charly had some brutal tactics. He’d coughed up what they wanted. You need to work fast now.

You had been taken back to the safe house where all the files were. You gathered it all and hurried with Alex to the precinct. Makarov was back in town by now, you needed to get there quickly. Except you're not so fortunate. There are alarms going off, and the building has smoke coming out of it, a gas of some kind. Officers were being evacuated. No. Fuck, no!

You get out of the vehicle, leaving the files in the car. You rush towards the building but Graves is there. He grabs you and holds you back.

"Let go! Let go!" You yell at him.

"Kid stop it! You can't go in there!" Graves tells you, dragging you back. No, you couldn't lose them. You were so close. You had finally fixed everything, righted your wrongs. You had to get to them. Graves pulls you back to Alex who helps you get back into the car. There is an exchange between Graves and Alex that you can't hear as you watch helplessly. Suddenly you're back home again, and you're sitting on the steps. Graves had just told you to head upstairs while he spoke with the babysitter. You knew what was going on, even then. Alex gets back in the car, pissed.

Graves was dealing with damage control right now. He knew where to go next and he really didn't want to drag you back there. Nolan needed another damned talking to and he was about to give it personally. Makarov hadn't shown up to work yet, it was his last day of leave. He was preparing to come back tomorrow, his promise to rid the city of some of the worst gangsters fulfilled.

You have to stop it.

Alejandro and Price wake up in the same room. The two leaders propped themselves against opposing walls, looking around the room. There was a light, four walls, a door and a floor. The gas made their heads sore, taking some time to clear it from their systems. Both men have their wrists zip tied behind them.

“Should’ve seen this coming.” Price admits. Alejandro shakes his head, eyes closed, but head facing the ceiling.

“Don’t blame yourself. We were sitting ducks from the start.” Alejandro sighs. “Something tells me this isn’t death row.”

“What tipped you off?” Price asks, sarcastically. There was silence between them. This may not be death row… but it is. It’s Makarov’s court house, where he’s judge, jury and executioner. The judge and jury have completed their duties, now the executioner is preparing. It sinks in, it’s not a fate they will take lightly, and will fight tooth and nail against. Alejandro lets out a light chuckle, catching Price’s attention.

“You know… back in the day there was a saying about me.” Alejandro says.

“Yeah?” Price asks. The two men were mainly business, with the occasional heart to heart. If they were going to be executed in a room by themselves, without their brothers, it’s only right they get to know each other better.

“El unico que puede matar a Alejandro es Alejandro...” Alejandro says, grinning.

“Meaning?”

“The only one who can kill Alejandro…is Alejandro.”

Price chuckles at that. The sheer gusto of the man. Their end is near and Alejandro still considers himself invincible. Price starts to think for a bit. He’d come close to death before but it was too quick. Now it was approaching slowly, and he thinks about everything that will happen.

“Who will take over?” He asks Alejandro. Alejandro drops his head looking at John.

“Rodolfo. That was the plan.” Alejandro admits. “There’s one other but she’ll likely go the wrong way. Maybe it will disband.”

“I have someone for the pub, a couple actually. There should be a letter for Kilo, since she’s safe.” Price says. “Simon’s cat will be okay, Kyle’s shop is freelance, Johnny… just has us.”

“What about the tagger?” Alejandro asks. The two men’s expressions say a lot. Alejandro wasn’t sure whether you could still be trusted after Graves came to the cells. Price isn’t sure himself, but after Farah was released he imagines you were trying to do the same for them. But you were missing. Vargas trusts Price, and Price trusts you. It didn’t change the weight of not seeing you before his time came or the fear you were somewhere in a similar room to this one.

Before John can answer, the door opens. Makarov steps in. The two men position themselves to stand. “I wouldn’t bother. The gas is still your system, you mobility is still reduced. But if you want to entertain me with your stumbling then be my guest.”

“Vete a la mierda.” Alejandro spat.

“You’re a coward.” Price adds.

“The rest of the world won’t see that. In their eyes, you’ll be cowards for refusing to stand trial, facing your sentence. Nothing but ghosts that once roamed these streets, hiding in alleys like rats.” Makarov says. “History books are written by the winners, the victorious. I’m sure someone will give you a footnote, but it won’t change the full picture.”

“So you killed L/N and then ran away?” Price questions. “Instead of facing your crimes, you make an innocent man guilty, put a dog on a long leash, and orphan a child. Deep down everyone in this building, wherever they are, know who the real coward is. All this just to throw away your scapegoats.”

“I won’t need them anymore.”

“Those murals will certainly make it difficult.” Alejandro comments. Price smirked until Makarov gives a fond smile, as if those murals were a happy memory.

“Oh yes…” Makarov chuckles, making the other two men tense. “L/N asked you to look after his child. Well… I’ll be sure to provide for them, after all they did such a good job bringing you here.”

“You keep your puppet strings off of them.” Price warns.

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll fucking hang you by them!” Price threatens. Makarov gives him another chuckle. A man about to meet his death and still threatening the man in control of it.

“Your little tagger won’t be in any trouble if they give me what I’m looking for. So far they’ve been a disobedient brat, so they’ll need some discipline. Don’t fret, they’ll be taken care of still.” Makarov says, and then walks out of the room. Price tried to ease himself to his feet quickly, but stumbles, shouting obscenities at Makarov.

Makarov finds joy in hearing the empty, fruitless threats of his scapegoat. Until he checks his phone for an update. Nolan should hopefully have the file by now, but then again, you were your father’s kid. So who knows how long it would take to break you down. His face changes upon seeing his phone screen. He storms down the hall, dialling Nolan’s number. When he hears the voice on the other end he freezes.

“Hey there, love. Was wondering how long it would take for you to call.” A female Scottish voice says. No fucking way. He hung up immediately.

You couldn’t help but snicker when Charly put the phone on speaker and it hung up as soon as she finished her sentence.

“Just fuckin rude.” She says, tossing the phone away. She looks back at Nolan who certainly looked worse than you, bound in the chair. Charly cracks her knuckles. “Well since we can’t trace that call, you’ll have to start talking.”

Nolan groans, as you fold your arms. You need a location first and foremost. This is a hostage exchange now. One with high value on both sides. Except your buyer has everything you want.

"Why did ya give it to 'em?" Johnny asks, after sitting in silence next to Simon. "Last ditch effort?"

"It was their father's. Not mine." Simon says simply. "No sense keeping it for sentimental reasons."

"Ya got that right." Johnny responds. "Ya not the sentimental type though. Are ya?"

"You're annoyingly observant." Simon comments. Johnny chuckles, pleased with the small jab. Simon was tight lipped with everyone, but you had opened him up. Opened him up about as much as a clam used for farming pearls, but you'd peaked the quiet Ghost's interest faster than Soap had when the two had met.

"Not a priest, but ya may swell confess." Johnny says, moving around a little to keep his ass from falling asleep. "I'll go first if ya want."

"... I killed my own father." Simon says, throwing Johnny for a loop. He certainly wasn't expecting that.

"Shit boss." Johnny breathes. He figured Ghost had a shitty past, you don't get scars like his from nothing. Didn't realize it was that bad though.

"I don't regret it either. Not much point in confessing when that remains with me." Simon explains.

"Didna answer my question." Johnny points out.

"Yes. It was a chance, but a small one. L/N didn't tell me what it was for only to give it to his kid. Could just as easily bury us, but like it or not Soap, Graves was covering for Y/N. That's the truth." Simon says a little quieter. Johnny sighs, dropping his gaze from the wall to the floor.

"I didna wan Y/N to stay with us." Johnny confesses. "First because it put us at risk with em being a cop, but then they started coming around more and more..."

"Be careful who you trust. Those you know can hurt you the most." Simon warns him.

"No shit." Johnny sighs. "They just wanted a chance though. All I wanted myself when I was younger. Would have kept all of us out of trouble if I never talked to em."

"You gave em what you were given. No shame in that." Simon assures him. Johnny still has that pinch of guilt. His memories of you will stay with him, and he tells himself makes it all worth it. "Gonna miss em."

"We all will." Simon says. Simon wouldn't tell Johnny, but the image of you curled up with the stray cat continues to occupy his mind. The cat would be taken care of, so he wouldn't worry about that. Who would take care of you though?

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666 @bestbookfriends @thriving-n-jiving

[gordonslefthand]

Deep in thought

[icarustypicalfall]

Right now

drabble, describing cod men in one word.

warnings: fluff, slight angst, not fully proofread bcz m tired:(

note: tysm for all your sweet wishes, ilysm. this one for you. i know i wasn't here much. srry about that.

masterpost • ao3 •

<3

Simon Ghost Riley

tired.

he is tired. Ghost, a mere void, a lost soul trying to find it's purpose again. despite the flame and the determination, he still holds a deep gush from the past nothing can ease. Nonetheless, he doesn't let it affect him. Everyday, he shoves the thoughts to the back of his mind, deciding to rethink them all one day.

He thought that day won't come till he met you. It would take some time, the healing path is long. Might as well hold his hand tightly.

Gaz

underrated.

He is never enough. No matter how much he puts in the work, there is always a tid missing. It consumes his sanity and leaves him countless nights hopeless. The dark circles he earned are from late workout sessions, long training outside the field. He thought he'd end up being the best, he was left to nothing.

You picked him up, dusted off his clothes and shared with him a cup of tea. He didn't say much, though his silence was louder than any words. He was grateful.

John Price

old?

It didn't affect him much, people's words were nothing to him, yet he wished he met you when he was younger. He knows he isn't exactly old. But he isn't young neither.

This absurdity left him in a foolish state. Sometimes, he'd even push you away, before crawling again in your arms. Whispering apologies mixed with meloncholy. You hugged him tightly, promising to be there till the end.

Soap

Peaceful.

He might've be unserious sometimes, but at heart, he has a dream. He reminded himself of that purpose consistently, trying his best to fullfil his desire for peace. How funny, a soldier wishing for peace? He thought about it for years, slowly realizing it was impossible for him.

You proved to him peace isn't about your surroundings, but about your heart.

He never felt more seren than after he slid that ring in your finger, in front of all his friends and family.

Alejandro Vargas

Passionate.

He loves, and when he does, he commits; Holly, utterly, with his very being. But, it hurts when he puts his trust in the wrong person. He was hurt, bruised, betrayed countless times. The scars on his body and the wounds in his heart a proof to the pain he held all those years.

It was until he met you, he realized what love is. The colonel fell to his knees, shedding tears of unspoken woe he held. You were there to ease his pain.

Rudy Parra

Quiet.

He is silence, a peaceful madness, an angry ocean, a loud thunder striking. He never lets his anger blind him. He was silent, collected, counting every step he takes. Silence was sometimes too loud. Sometimes, he wished he could vanish, dissaper in a beat and never come back. When his time comes, he wishes to be buried in your smile, where he can find eternal peace.

Phillip Graves

Vulnerable.

He never knew how to be, he thought being a commander means he should be collected, stoic. He buried his feelings, fears and doubts inside. Letting them accumulate till it overflew, leaving him in disaster. He shattered after a failed mission. And, for the first time, he let you pick up the pieces, putting him together like a broken vase. You looked upon his baby blues, letting peace wash over him.

[ladyelissarose]

‘A Mother’s Revenge’

COD MW x Female widowed reader- callsign: Melione (means Goddess of nightmares and ghosts)

Summary: After your husband and son are killed during a massacre, you mourn the loss of them, as you enter into a new version of yourself, that you never thought you had. The 141 has kept an eye on you, secretly, and admire what they see. As they watch your raging anger as your grow behaviors and tactics of a perfect assassin. Laswell takes you in, and promises to give you the revenge you want, if you work for them and help them take down who you find out is the same people that killed your family. But will you work with them and bring them in to serve for justice? Or will you just take advantage of their team to get them yourself, and kill them all?

Chapter 1 - ‘A Nightmare Became An Obsession’

Chapter 2 - ‘Backfire’

Chapter 3 - ‘Can I Trust You?’

Chapter 4 - ‘Miscommunication’

Chapter 5 - ‘What Am I Up Against?’

Chapter 6 - ‘I Don’t Know’

Chapter 7 - ‘Led Blindly’

Chapter 8 - ‘Betrayed’

Chapter 9 - ‘Revelation’

Chapter 10 - ‘Our Purpose’

Chapter 11 - ‘Ghosts’

Chapter 12 - ‘Target eliminated- onto the next’

Next Chapters are in the works!!

[lunainlove]

I feel like I have read all the good fanfics on ao3 for ghostsoap 😭😭 in times like this I hate being so picky with what I read and all the other fanfics that catch my attention are not finished and I refuse to read until they are done because I’m not patient at all so I’m left with nothing 😭😭😭 and finding good fics is so difficult on ao3 like I usually get what I read from recommendations, snooping into my fav authors bookmarks and pure luck

Anyway if someone has good fanfics please lmk I’m open to anything but recently I’ve been craving some mission focused fic or something like that with found family (I’m a sucker for gaz price ghost soap laswell ale and rudy together) and a happy ending because the I absolutely adore angst as long as there’s a happy ending 😭😭😭😭

[madlittlecriminal]

Too Late ⤍ Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra × GN!Reader

Request: no, but they're open

Warnings: angst, reader has a boyfriend (no cheating! we don't do that here!)

i said i would write angst, so rudy is unfortunately my victim...for now. might write one for a different fandom

Rudy was unwell. His heart shattered when you introduced your boyfriend to the team.

You moved on and everyone was happy for you.

He wanted to be happy, he really did, but he couldn't.

But he had to. He'd be a hypocrite if he told you he wasn't happy.

Almost a year ago, you confessed to Rudy that you were in love with him, your best friend.

He rejected you, told you he wasn't what you wanted, and you argued saying he was. You told him he was basically your dream guy from his big heart, his warmth, and more. Rudy told you it wouldn't work out anyway because he was your Sergeant Major, and he didn't see you in that way; you were just his best friend.

Rudy remembers the sadness in your eyes that he was in love with; they were always filled with love and light, but that day, he caused the sadness in them by rejecting you.

In reality, he was in love with you, but he was scared he'd hurt you with secrecy. He wanted to show you off and be able to kiss you in front of everyone without worrying about it being inappropriate.

Now you were here, showing everyone your boyfriend who just so happens to be the brother of the corporal of the Mexican Military.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and gave you a tight-lipped smile. "I'm happy for you."

You grinned. "Thanks. Love, this is Rodolfo. The sergeant major." You say as you introduced them.

If his heart wasn't broken before, it definitely was now, shattered to dust like pieces. You never called him by his full name. Ever. Let alone, you didn't even tell your boyfriend that you both are best friends.

Rudy shook his hand, his grip a little too firm.

"You got a nice grip there, Rodolfo." Your boyfriend let out a chuckle before letting go of Rudy's hand. He gave your boyfriend a smile that you knew was fake.

"Can I talk to you in private, sir?" You ask as you gave him a glare. He nods and you both walk towards the common room.

"He seems nice-"

"Cut the crap. What's gotten into you?"

He gulps before letting out a sigh. "I'm a hypocrite, okay? I'm not happy for you. I wish it were me with you and not him." He confesses without a second thought; he didn't want to dance around it.

"It's a little too late for that, Rodolfo."

"Stop calling me that. You know I hate it when you call me by my real name."

"Well, it's your name. Unfortunately, nothing is going to happen between us anymore. I healed what you broke. I'm happy now, so deal with it."

"What if I don't want to deal with it?"

You shrug as you turned your back. "Figure it out because you had time. You're upset that I moved on instead of waiting for you to decide if you liked me or not. You rejected me, I healed and got a great guy by my side."

He ran a hand through his curls, letting out a sigh of frustration. "I'm sorry, okay? I made a mistake." He looks at you with pleading eyes.

"You did. Now heal, Sergeant Major." Your tone was filled with venom as you walked away.

Rudy watched as you smiled at the sight of your boyfriend. He looked down and shut his eyes tightly as he took a deep breath to calm down. It failed him as a tear streamed down his face.

You were right. He made you heal on your own and never bothered to make things right or to tell you the truth about being in love with you. You were happy now and he had to respect it, but the way his heart ached was too much.

He lost you and he was to blame.

[reds-skull]

Not Alive, Nor Dead

[PREV PART] [AO3]

We're getting close to another favorite moment of mine... I can't wait to write it lol

“Rudy, Vargas.” Ghost greets them, sitting down to eat his breakfast. 

The two Vaqueros nod, Rudy speaking with a mouthful, “Fantasma, slept well?”

He lifts his mask just enough to take a bite of the eggs, “no.”

“Oh.” Rudy swallows the food, “sorry to hear that?”

Alejandro snorts at his awkwardness, “what got you uneasy, hermano?”

Ghost sighs, scanning the room for stray Shadows. He leans in closer to quietly tell them, “caught a Shadow following me and Johnny last night.”

The men’s gaze darkens, “I’ve had a bad feeling about the Gringo for a while now…” Alejandro stabs a tomato angrily, “I’m starting to think he’s not here to support us.”

“What’s your theory?” Ghost indulges.

“He’s the Americans’ way into whatever this mess will lead us.” Rudy nods, continuing for the Colonel. It seems like this isn’t the first time they discuss this, “Shepherd wants his name on our success, and Graves is his toy soldier.” He frowns, “making his Shadows stalk you and Soap, however…”

Ghost finishes his meal, “Shepherd might want to eat the cake and leave it whole. I’d suggest watching each other’s back. Cheers.”

“Keep yourself safe, hermano. Thank you.” Alejandro gives him a sharp nod, mind undoubtedly swirling with all possible scenarios.

Ghost returns the nod, leaving mess. 

If Graves turns his back on them, the fallout will fuck up more than just taskforce 141. The Vaqueros, Commander Karim and Keller, Laswell…

He knows too much. If he betrays them… Ghost will make sure he keeps his mouth shut.

Whether it’s on earth or Limbo, Graves won’t escape him.

Johnny waits for him when he leaves for the training grounds, grinning cheerfully when he spots Ghost.

He falls into step beside him, “goin’ to let Limbo out for a spin?”

His gruff accent sands down the tension he accumulated while talking about Graves, “need to take off the edge, don’t want them too wild on the mission.”

Ghost looks down at Soap, deciding to kick a little at his boots, “you sure you want to follow me to the field? Limbo still wants to take a bite off you.”

Johnny stumbles for a second, pouting up before smirking, “I’ll follow you anywhere, LT”

Ghost gazes at his eyes, the reflection of the sky encompassed within them. He’s only half joking when he murmurs, “that’s what I’m afraid of.” 

He makes Soap stand far, perhaps a little over worrying, but Ghost rather having to shout for his Sergeant to hear than risk his life yet again.

As he lets Limbo loose, he thinks back to his Last conversation with his Reaper. How Johnny is supposed to kill him.

Ghost wishes he believed it more wholeheartedly. It could’ve helped with his constant concerns, his nightmares, the visions so real he can almost see Soap in Limbo now, vacant eyes chasing his light.

Ghost shakes the illusion away, Johnny isn’t here. No reason to torture himself with those ‘what-ifs’.

Limbo has returned to its usual state, his victims all screaming and crying, reaching for the protective light surrounding him. Things have been turbulent for the residents in these last couple of months. Ghost almost feels bad, if he ever let himself feel anything towards his eternally trapped victims.

It’s a slippery slope he rather not go down on.

When he steps out of Limbo, streams of blackened dirt point at Johnny, stopping only a few meters from the Scot.

Ghost huffs when Johnny waves over eagerly, calling out that he’s ‘faster than the creepy gits, LT!’ and that Ghost has nothing to worry about. Maybe once that was true, but the way his lips curl into a smile tells him otherwise.

They part ways when Soap has to go to yet another debrief, not before he taps his shoulder and promises to find him afterwards. Ghost’s heart practically sings when he murmurs, “you better, Sergeant.”

Garrick catches him while he’s still gliding on the high of those promises, a horrified face pulling him back to earth, “Gaz? What’s-”

“I need to talk to you.” his eyes flicker around, “privately.”

Ghost nods, instantly snapping back into business mode, “follow me.”

They silently make their way to the roof, the 4-storey building and the single access point, making for the most secluded place in the entire base.

Gaz walks over to watch the fields, avoiding eye contact with him. Ghost impatiently waits for him to spill whatever got him so frightened.

“Do you know someone called Kirill Bogomolov?” the Sergeant mutters, his back still towards Ghost.

He opens his mouth to give the negative, when he stops. Bogomolov… he has heard the name before.

Ghost inhales sharply. Konchar.

“Yes.” 

Gaz’s head snaps around to gawk at him, “where? Who is he??”

“You first, Sergeant. How do you know Bogomolov?”

Garrick’s voice is somewhat desperate when he speaks, “my Reaper. It said… fuck, Ghost. Kirill was its, strongest Revenant of the Pull ever created.”

“Konchar was Reaped by the same Reaper that got you?” Ghost exclaims in surprise.

Gaz’s eyebrows furrow in confusion, and Ghost exhales, “Konchar is the callsign of Bogomolov. Why did your Reaper bring him up?”

“It said…” Garrick looks down, “it warned me about Soap. Told me I should stay away from him. That it won’t lose another revenant to ‘the Reaper of Destruction’.” Gaz’s eyes look at his, “Soap didn’t kill Konchar, right? Tell me my Reaper’s wrong, Ghost.”

Ghost narrows his eyes, “I heard about Konchar first when Soap lost his memory. He said Konchar killed his squad.”

Gaz’s face scrunches, “fuck…”

“Official reports state Konchar died from the explosion in Verdansk six years ago. Soap, allegedly, was Reaped in the same event.” Ghost’s mind races faster than he could speak, “Reapers don’t lie, Garrick. Soap must’ve…”

The Sergeant rubs his temples, exhaling a shaky breath, “killed Konchar because of that. But you said they couldn’t have met?”

Ghost goes over the timeline again, “if we assume the reports are faked, which they are since your Reaper won’t lie…” things are still so disconnected… “Konchar didn’t die in the explosion. Which means Soap was Reaped before it.”

Gaz floats a few inches of ground, “what do we know on the mission Soap and his squad were on in Verdansk?”

“Nothing. His file is fucking blacked out.”

He drops to the ground again, “couldn’t you ask Soap? You two are close-”

“Johnny won’t say shit.” Ghost almost snarls, frustrations building, “whatever happened there, it made him scream and ask his Reaper why it didn’t fucking kill him.”

“Jesus…” shock spreads on Garrick’s face, and he groans, “what do we do, Ghost? First your Reaper tells you Soap will be ‘your demise’, then mine shows up for the first time in months to warn me it will not lose another revenant.”

“Parra’s Reaper warned him about me as well.” Ghost recounts the memory, “they seem to do that when a strong revenant is around.” he sizes Gaz up, looking for any signs of fear. “We’ll bring it up to the Captain, but if it were up to me… I won’t let that change anything. Although…”

Garrick perks up, “we’ll keep a distance from Johnny when he uses his powers extensively. Don’t underestimate him.” Ghost finishes.

The Sergeant nods, “yes sir. I’ll go inform Price.”

Ghost stays behind on the roof a little longer. If Johnny and Konchar have met after his Reaping…

Is there anything on his file he could truly trust?

The revenant in question finds him while he haunts the halls around the meeting rooms, waiting for him to show up.

Johnny seemed surprised to see him there, and the expression quickly melts into a pleased sort of joy.

“Missed me that much, Ghostie?” he teases.

Ghost can’t stop his eyes from rolling, “in your dreams, MacTavish.”

Soap raises an eyebrow, saying with a lop-sided smile, “oh, you do a lot more in my dreams, LT.”

His face feels on fire under the mask, Ghost stiffens, “that so?”

“Aye” Johnny gives him a shit eating grin, “last night ye took me teh a fancy restaurant, treated me right. If only you were such a gentleman in my waking hours, LT” he puts a hand over his heart, shaking his head in disappointment.

Ghost cuffs him over the head, “don’t see you taking me anywhere nice, Sergeant. You get what you give.”

Soap rubs at the back of his head, frowning up at Ghost, “Oi! You know what, I’ll take ye somewhere real good next time we get leave. You won’t have any excuses after that!”

“I’ll hold you to it, Johnny.”

Soap smiles, the two of them gazing just a little too long at each other’s eyes (not his fault Johnny got pretty ones) when Price’s voice echos in their minds, “I’m truly sorry for interrupting you lovebirds, but we need you two here.”

A comically grief-stricken expression washes over Johnny’s features, “I just got out of debrief…” he whines.

“Won’t be long, Sergeant, just need to verify something.” Price sighs in their head.

Ghost takes hold of Soap’s drooping shoulder, “up and at ‘em, Johnny. The sooner we go, the sooner we finish.”

His Sergeant sighs loudly, “Aye sir…”

“No…” Soap takes a step back, voice shaking, “your Reaper too…? I-I don’t… I would never…”

Ghost takes a hold of his arm, stopping him from running away. He can feel the tension coiling up in Johnny. He knew his Sergeant won’t take the news well, that yet another person is now in danger of him.

Ghost wants to shout at all the Reapers in the world beyond, explain Johnny is the last person to hurt his teammates, that he’s righteous and self sacrificial to a fault.

He knows it won’t matter to them. They don’t care for such small, insignificant details of their human servants.

“We know, son.” Price attempts to calm him, “we’ll change the plan as much as we can, but you’ll have to use your powers to some extent. I’m sorry, but you’re irreplaceable.”

Soap tries to back away again, “no! I can’t- just make me do something else, I’ll be fine with exploding again, I can heal, I-”

“Johnny”, Ghost tightens his hold on him.

Soap stares at him, eyes terrified, “I can’t LT… If I kill any of ye… I wouldn’t forgive myself.”

Price looks between them, crossing his arms. Ghost thinks over the plan again, of the most recent iteration. Soap and Gaz were supposed to create a distraction, make the PMC revenant run away, only to be caught by the rest of their forces, and slowly be pushed back from all fronts.

He turns his head to glare at Price, “swap me and Garrick out, sir.”

Soap and Gaz both exclaim as one, “what?!”

“Go on.” Price squints.

“Me and Soap are the strongest revenants in our forces. If anyone could push the target, it’s us.”

“You two are not immune to each other, Lieutenant. It will be risky to send my best soldiers together.” Price comments.

Ghost feels Soap turn to stare at him, “if Soap is far enough, I can use Limbo safely.”

“And if you get caught in an explosion?”

Johnny takes the arm on him with his hand, squeezing and shaking his head lightly. Ghost ignores him.

“Limbo would stop them.”

Price’s eyebrows raise, Soap gapes at him from the corner of his vision.

The Captain's voice asks in his head, “have you done it before?”

He looks down at Johnny, “no” he whispers in his thoughts.

“Simon…”

Blue eyes shine up at him, skies that hold stars in their depth, “I trust him, John. With my life, with my death, with everything left in me.”

Price tilts his head, something sad softening his features, “...don’t make me regret this, Lieutenant.” he says out loud.

“I won’t, sir.” he doesn’t avert his eyes from Johnny’s.

Plot twist! Konchar and Gaz have the same Reaper!

[codfanficedits]

Being with you - Part three.

Summary:

After the breakup

Pairing:

Rodolfo Parra x fem!Reader.

Wordcount: 1404| Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: Fluff.

Being without anyone meant you could talk about anything you liked, as long as you liked. And right now you wanted to talk to Rudy, A smile on your face. “They didn’t! Oh my God, she wanted another child, and he didn’t and she ended up dating a woman instead. I loved her, honestly, good for her.” But the insecurities came back way too quick and you could hear Simon’s voice in the back of your head once more. ‘Talks too much’ “Sorry.” You say with a sheepish smile. “I’m blabbering again.”

Meeting you in the supermarket aisle meant that Rudy finally had the chance to talk to you again, he had seen the look on your face when you heard Ghost speak about you, and he had wanted to reach out to you ever since, but you left so suddenly and he had no way to contact you again. So when he finally saw you again with a basket full of snacks, making your way to the ice cream section, a soft smile curled around his lips as he heard you mutter on about your tv show. He would never, ever admit it, but he spend his fair share of time researching 90 days to wed. To be honest he even decided to watch the show for himself, the drama was just a little too good to pass on. “You’re not talking too much.” Rudy’s voice sounds. “Please, I’m dying to hear more. Have you seen the new season yet?”

Being without anyone gave you the freedom to not feel guilty about the feeling talking to Rudy gave you. You’d recognized these feeling from the last time you spoke to him, but you had suppressed them, founding them to be a form of dishonesty towards Simon. But now, now those feelings were free to roam in your veins, whether or not you made to choice to act to them, you were free to feel again, and no one could deny you a thing. “I have! I was actually on my way to pick up some ice cream before I went to watch it.” A sheepish smile formed on your lips. “Got to have some snacks while I watch it.”

Rudy could see the spark in your eyes and it warmed his heart. It was the first time that he had seen this spark in your eyes, and while he didn’t think it was possible, it made you even prettier than before. He nodded while you explained your snacks and he held up his own basket, filled with snacks too. His basket full with savoury things, yours with sweets.

“Ooooh, those chips are nice.” You said when you looked into his basket.

“And I could do with some gummy bears.” Rudy answered.

A sudden rush through your body. What did you have to lose? Worst case he would reject you, and you’d cry while watching your show.

“Want to watch it at mine?”

Belonging to yourself meant that there was enough room in your heart to let Rudy in. You were hesitant at first. Worried that he would just be as Simon.

But he was different.

You could let the worry go quite easily, the way he spoke to you, the way he looked at you. Not once did he pretend that he was interested, not once did you feel like you have to shut up. Even when you would shut up midsentence when the insecurity hit you, he would look at you, urging you to continue. He would happily pause whatever the two of you were watching to let you talk, to let you explain the storyline, to let you explain what you think would happen.

For Rudy, your voice was the best thing he could hear after a long mission, or a long day. Listening to you meant that he could forget the horrors he had seen, listening to you meant that all the worries inside of his mind would be pushed away, all he had to focus on was you, and by God did he love to listen to you. The passion in your words, no matter the subject, the twinkle in your eye whenever you could see that he knew what you were talking about. It made his whole day, and it was the thing he missed the most whenever he was separated from you.

But being with Rudy meant that you had to those gatherings again, seeing the men who openly mocked you for talking too much, and it caused a knot in your stomach. You had to face the men who talked behind your back, you had to face Simon. But Rudy was so proud to show you off. So you pushed away the anxious feeling inside of you.

“Are you sure?” Rudy double checked.

“Yes.”

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.” His large hands cup your face before he gives you a quick kiss, but his eyes never leave your face.

“No, no. It’s okay.” You protest. “I am a bit nervous, but I really want to do it.”

“The moment you’re uncomfortable, you tell me and we leave.” It’s a stern command, different from how soft Rudy usually is.

“Do you want me to salute to you too?” A grin on your face as you answer him.

“Mi amor.” He presses his forehead against yours. “You can salute to me when you’re wearing nothing but my shirt, but for now, I want you to be comfortable, okay? I’d rather explain to Ale afterwards what happened, than to see you uncomfortable.”

Going with Rudy was nerve wrecking. You had to meet new people, people who didn’t know about your history Simon, but there were also people who did know about your history with Simon. Confused looks, soft whispers while you’re holding Rudy’s hand. But you straighten your back, even feeling a little confident while he is next to you. You find it hard to let go off Rudy, worried what people think about you, about the situation, but slowly you find the courage to chat to people yourself, the weight of your worries falling off your shoulders.

Seeing you with Rudy hurt him more than he could think of. Simon had spent days longing for you in his bed. You looked stunning and Simon hated to see how gorgeous looked next to Rudy, how beautiful you were. And most of all, he hated to see your lips moving, but not hearing your words. Simon had caught himself missing you, missing your talking, your words, your passion. He missed you with every fibre of his being. He hated to see how well Rudy took care of you. He hated to see how Rudy listened to you, how you had Rudy’s undivided attention, something you never got from him. It ached him, knowing that he was too late, it ached him to know that he never appreciated your beauty until it was ripped away.

You were chatting with Alejandro, who was still a little too dominant for your liking, but it was better than talking to Gaz, Price, Soap or God forbid Simon. Your eyes drift across the room and you and Simon make eye contact.

And you don’t feel a thing.

No regret, no longing, no sadness, no anger, nothing. From friends, to lovers, to strangers and you were more than okay with it.

You can see in Simon’s eyes that he does feel those things, but he stopped being your priority when it became clear that you never were his.

Gaz joins the conversation between you and Alejandro.

“Careful, Colonel.” Gaz looks at you while he speaks. “She might talk your ears off. She’s known to never, ever shut up. I have no clue how Rudy does it.”

“Sergeant.” Alejandro’s tone is sharp, but he knows it’s not his place to correct Gaz.

“I would suggest you stop talking and leave this conversation.” Rudy’s voice sounds behind you. The man has a hand on your shoulder, his eyes glued to Gaz, waiting for a word out of him, waiting for the opportunity to rip him a new one. He’s a feral guard dog and you’re holding the leash.

Gaz does get the hint, backing off with a sour look on his face. Rudy turns to you. “Go on, you were midsentence, and I want to know why red is your favourite colour.”

[hunterbunter3000]

My ass really thinking about that Sweetheart boyfriend!au...

Like she legit has a whole ass boyfriend that is a male wife to the BONE-- and is secretly a... idk mob boss or a drug lord or something... maybe a CEO or an assassin.

🧍‍♀️

I don't really know, he can be ANYTHING

But she didn't tell NO BODY

And task force 141 + Los Vaqueros find out and they're like "damn. We tried." But then they find out that he's pretty sketchy so "OOUUHHHH ITS AN OPENING"

So now they're all trying to fight for her while simultaneously unraveling the boyfriend's past and put him in prison.

Yeaahhhh I gotta think on this more-- I'm extremely open to ideas! Let's brainstorm together ❤️ 🫂

[marsontherocks]

Rodolfo Parra who meets this guy, and they get on like a house on fire. Suddenly Rudy doesn't take those extra work days because he has more plans now, and he finds himself spending more time with you than he does with anyone else.

He finds himself thinking and talking about you a lot. Overthinking his outfits before doing anything with you. Alejandro starts to tease him about it, jokingly says you're his boyfriend. Rudy who rolls his eyes, but now he can't stop thinking about if you were his boyfriend. So when you're out getting lunch together one day, he takes the risk of asking you out and of course you say yes.

Now Rudy really can't stop thinking about you. Wondering what you're up to, what you're doing, if you're also thinking about him(100% you are, i mean HELLO!?).

He wants you to meet his friends(including Ale ofc) one night, but he has to reschedule because now he and Ale are caught up dealing with a few of El Sin Nombres men :(

But he doesn't have to worry about delaying you meeting Alejandro anymore! Because Alejandro just brought you in with a few other of Valeria's men :D!

[vampsquerade]

Requests are open?

Please gimme more of Rudy, I don’t care what you write, I just need more of him pleasee

bestie i GOT YOU imma give you some angsty fluff cause oooo i love it!! i also hope you’ve been taking very good care of yourself, if you ever need anything don’t hesitate to text 💕

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Rodolfo x Female!Reader: Tales of Love

Trigger Warnings: angst with a happy ending, arrests, graphic depictions of physical violence, death threats, love confessions, hurt/comfort

Love is a tale told in many stories that have been passed down from generation to generation. One such tale you most famously remembered is that of Popocatépetl and Iztaccíhuatl, recounted to you by Rodolfo “Rudy” Parra. Rodolfo and you had gotten pretty close in your time working together to capture Hasan, often exchanging glances filled with a romance and passion seen like no other in the modern day. Alejandro would also continuously make jokes related to this story, often gaining both your attention by calling you these names respectively. Of course, the two of you would just get flustered and promptly apologize to each other before getting what you were ordered to do finished up with.

As much as you would love your so-called “romance” with Rodolfo to continue on, tragedy obviously struck. You and several of Alejandro’s Vaqueros were arrested after Graves’ Shadows came and took over the base. You had been separated from Rodolfo at this point and found yourself captured. “Van a regresar por nosotros…lo siento en mi pecho…” you whisper softly to yourself. A Shadow grunt suddenly scoffs before laughing at you, pushing you slightly to force you to continue walking. “Nobody’s coming back for you. By this point, Alejandro and those damn 141 guys have got to be captured and dead by this point—eventually you will be too.” the Shadow said.

Your heart then sinks into your stomach as you continue walking. Where the fuck was Rodolfo? Nobody had mentioned him at all and you’re damn sure he’s one of the few that died at the bloodied hands of Shadow Company. “What, cat’s got your tongue now? You haven’t said a damn thing since I told you that. I bet that Rudy guy’s dead too.” the grunt continued, as if he was taunting you at this point. “He’s not dead, ¡hijo de puta!” you exclaim, kicking at the grunt. He then doesn’t hesitate to knock you down, kicking your knee so hard you were pretty sure it was gonna break if he did it any harder. Immediately traction was stopped and all guns were on you as you lay collapsed in the ground.

“The fuck are you doing? Grab the crazy bitch and let’s move! We gotta put them all in the cells on the other side!” a familiar voice rings out. Filled with pure, unadulterated rage, you bring your head up and see Phillip Graves himself walking up to you. You’re swiftly lifted before being turned to look at the commander, all eyes from all parties stuck on you. “Well, well, well. Looks like we’ve got Parra’s cute little kitty. Now why are you causing a ruckus, hm?” he sneers, putting the barrel of his rifle underneath your chin. You growl softly, resisting slightly against the grunt that’s been with you this whole time. “Aw, c’mon now princess—ain’t a single reason for you to be doing any of this. All I’m asking for is a simple response to what the fuck you’re doing.” Phillip says. Not a single sound comes from you, and this causes the commander to scoff before chuckling darkly.

Phillip taps the trigger on his rifle, slightly angling it up against your chin. The man was practically gone to you at this point, a switch flipped and he was more than ready to kill you after working alongside you for months. “I’m done playing games with you. Unless you want your head served to the stragglers on a platter I deeply suggest you say something.” he says. Staring directly into his eyes as your heart pounds in your chest, you just nod to signal you’re about to speak. “Your damn grunt was taunting me. If it wasn’t for you arresting all of us, I would have killed him and you on the spot.” you say angrily. Phillip laughs at this, moving his rifle away from your chin, “That right? Well then, guess I’ll just have to prevent that.” he says.

In an instant you’re hit with the butt of his rifle directly against your temple, effectively disorienting you to the point where you’re about to pass out. Phillip grabs your face harshly and makes you look up at him. Through blurred vision are you able to see the dead and menacing stare he gives you. “Take a nap, little kitty.” he says before letting you go. Completely passing out at this point, your now limp body is dragged into a solitary confinement cell as everyone else is escorted to regular cells. You spend a long time passed out, and all you could dream about is eventually being saved by Rodolfo, Johnny, and Simon.

Eventually, you wake up in your cell and groan, vision still incredibly blurry as your head is pounding. You bring a hand up to your temple shakily, feeling the now dried blood against your fingers. “I’ll fucking kill him…and his fucking Shadows…” you mutter to yourself. As there’s never anything to do inside of a solitary confinement cell, you just spend your entire time thinking about Rodolfo. Was he truly dead? Or has he been alive for the entire time since the incident, waiting for the perfect moment to whisk you and everyone else out of their respective cells? It was uncertain, as several hours had already come to pass since your arrest.

As you wait patiently for someone to come and get you, you hear alarms going off that signal that there’s been an intrusion. “I fucking knew they would come..!” you exclaim out of pure excitement. After a very long gunfight is exchanged, you hear several footsteps coming up to your cell. “Which one is Y/N in?!” a very familiar voice exclaims. “¡En esa, la celda de la izquierda!” another very familiar voice instructs. Standing yourself up and keeping yourself to the frame of the cot in your cell, you wait to see who was on the other side of the door. The lock turns and the door is swiftly opened, revealing several Vaqueros and Rodolfo himself. “Y/N!” Rodolfo exclaims. He quickly rushes towards you and pulls you into an embrace, breath heavy as if he was anticipating your death.

“A ver, déjame ver tu cabeza…” Rodolfo says, gently grabbing both of your jaws and turning your head to examine your injuries. He sees the countless bruises you had on your cheeks and eyes, as well as the dried blood from your temple where Graves had attacked you. “He’ll pay for what he did to you, te lo prometo mi amor. Hasta al infierno los llevo.” Rodolfo said. “Thank you.” you say, wincing softly as he picks you up onto his shoulders. You and everyone else are quickly escorted and taken to get treatment at a different location set up by the Captain, and you’re glad to have kept your spirits up while you were locked up. You knew it was going to happen, and you were happy Rodolfo accompanied the rescue party.

Upon arriving at the makeshift base, you’re seen by a medic to treat any and all wounds. A brace is placed on your injured and swollen knee and stitches are sewn into your injured temple. Waiting right at your side the entire time was Rodolfo, who had been faithfully patient to speak with you. Once the medic in charge of patching you up went off to treat someone else, it was decided now was the time to question what Rodolfo called you earlier. “My love, that’s what you called me. Why?” you ask. Rodolfo tenses up a bit, turning to look you nervously in the eye. “Well…I guess it was a slip of the tongue…” he says awkwardly. “Did you mean it genuinely?” you ask again.

For a moment, Rodolfo goes quiet as he contemplates telling you the truth about the way he feels towards you. He promptly comes to the conclusion that he has to, and he reaches for your hand. “Me enamoré de ti, Y/N. En estar siempre a tu lado he pasado muchos de mis días pensando en el día en que nos juntamos. Te quiero mucho…” Rodolfo confesses. You immediately become flustered by this, delighted to know that Rodolfo feels the same way you feel about him. “I was terrified you were dead, you know. I thought I would never get to see you again and that I would die of a broken heart knowing I couldn’t live my life without you.” you admit, nervously rubbing the back of your neck.

Rodolfo’s eyes softened as he gave you a warm and reassuring smile, leaning in closer to your face. “Would you do me a quick favor right now?” he asked softly. “What would that be?” you ask, wanting to know more. “Please kiss me…” Rodolfo whispers. “Hm…who would I be to say no to the man that saved my life?” you say, laughing softly. Rodolfo then leans in and captures your lips into a sweet and gentle kiss. You’re more than happy to reciprocate it, putting your hands gently onto his cheeks. You begin to caress his skin with your thumb as Rodolfo does the same to you. “Ay, mira los dos amantes aquí.” Alejandro’s voice comes from your left. Rodolfo then pulls away from you, raising his arms in disbelief, “¿No nos pueden dejar en paz, hermano?” he asks, jokingly offended.

You turn and see Alejandro and the main members of the 141 standing there, waiting to hear about your condition. “I’ll have to be kept out of the next mission, unfortunately. Any added stress to my knee or head will surely injure me further.” you say. “Shame, would’ve loved to kill Graves and all of Shadow company alongside you.” Johnny says, crossing his arms. “It’s okay, I’ll surely be with you for the next one. Count on it.” you say, holding a hand out to shake his. Johnny happily complies, shaking your hand firm and carefully. “Well, we’ll be mobilizing after a brief talk with Shepherd to try and know more about this situation. Rodolfo, you need to come along.” John said. Rodolfo nodded, letting go of your hand and standing up. “I’ll be back before you know it, okay?” he vows. “You better. Make sure you send the one that kicked me down and beat me in my unconscious state my warmest regards.” you say. “Will do.” Rodolfo said, walking off with the others.

[trash-magics-blog]

"When you walked out that door, a piece of me died"

RUDY FIC COMIN UP

Summary: You go on a trip during the summer and meet a handsome stranger but will he only be a summer fling or something more?

(This will be a longer fic so I'm gonna break it into parts, and it's gonna be filled with some angst and NSFW and fluff, a little variety and school is coming up so it might take me a minute to post but i have a Soap thing im gonna post like tmr, thank you guys for all the love on my other fics😩😩)