The morning sun spills through the slats of your half-closed blinds, painting soft golden stripes across the wooden floors of your new apartment.
The place is small but cozy, tucked into a quiet corner of Santo Padre where the sound of traffic hums faintly in the distance.
The apartment was part of the re-location package that came with your appointment at the library. You stretched at the window, lifting one of the slats with your finger to peer into your small courtyard, already baked in sun.
This apartment was more generously appointed then you'd expected, a dishwasher, full sized fridge, fresh paint, and the blessing of a full tub which was large enough that it submerged both your knees and your breasts simultaneously.
To be fair the tub alone would have sold you on the job had you've known about it.
Your bed is still half-unmade from where you kicked off the covers in the night, a reminder that even in new places, old habits linger.
The scent of fresh coffee drifts through the air, mixing with the warm, sunbaked scent of paint mixing with your second hand furnishings.
You fill your mug with the dark nectar from the coffee machine and stir in a generous teaspoon of sugar as you pad your way to the shower with a yawn, clicking on the radio as you pass it.
You stand in front of the small, foggy mirror in your bathroom, running your fingers through your damp hair. The town is still new, still unfamiliar, but you’re starting to settle in—little by little.
Dressed in a soft blouse and black slacks, simple but both professional and comfortable, you glance at the time before grabbing your bag.
Another day at the library. Another day sorting through the past, bringing lost history back to life.
You lock up and step outside, the heat already heavy against your skin, you shove your keys into the front pocket of your bag before you start at a brisk pace down the street.
The library is silent, save for the occasional click of your keyboard and the soft whir of an old external drive struggling to keep up.
You sit hunched over Santo Padre's excuse for a workstation in the archive room, deep in the process of decrypting and transferring data from outdated storage devices.
Some of these records haven’t been accessed in decades, forgotten by time and technology alike.
The scent of old paper and ink lingers in the air, mixed with the faint scent of dust that clings to the tomes stacked around you.
Fragments of history sit at your fingertips—old financial records, handwritten letters, even grainy black-and-white photographs of a town that barely resembles the Santo Padre your familiarizing yourself with.
You work in silence, completely absorbed.
There’s something soothing about this—the meticulous work of restoring the past, of piecing together fragments of lives once lived. You may not know much about the world outside these walls, but here? Here, you have purpose.
The hours slip by unnoticed.
The library’s archive room is a sanctuary of dust and forgotten time, filled with the quiet hum of old machines and the whisper of delicate, yellowed paper.
The air is thick with the scent of aged ink, and the only sound accompanying you is the rhythmic tap of your fingers on the keyboard.
You sit hunched over your workstation, fully absorbed in your task. The old external drive whirs sluggishly beside you, its faint mechanical clicks struggling to keep up with the process of decrypting and transferring decades-old files.
You bang your fist agasint the hard drive as it weases under the weight of use.
"Don't you dare" you threaten the device, narrowing your eyes in an attempt to be menacing.
Shit, I need to meet more people.
You think to yourself as you realize you were actually waiting for the drive to answer you back.
1936-1966—Property Ownership Records
1937—El Informador, Arizona
1942-1972—Council Financial Ledgers
1958-1988—Missing Persons Reports
1964-1994—Immigration Records
1973—Santo Padre: La Jornada
1987-2007—Import records, Galindo holdings.
1999—El Informador, Sonora and Arizona.
You pause.
The words blink up at you from the screen, innocuous in their placement among the other files, yet something about them prickles at your subconscious.
You hesitate for just a moment before clicking it open, revealing a list of handwritten names, the ink faded and smudged.
Your brows furrow.
As you move to extract the hard copy old paper crinkled and frayed at the edges, your fingernail flicks along the smudged edge of the ink.
Once.
Twice.
A third time a small fragment flicks off the page, curious ... it's not a smudge of ink, but a spill. Pulling the magnifying loupe over you place it in front of you.
You dip a swab into a small bottle of solution, making small circular motions over the spill.
After a few minutes of careful work letters come into view under the spill.
P A R A D A
Parada ? "Welcome back from history, Parada" you mumble to the page as you set it aside to dry.
Resigning yourself to work on it again another day instead of risking tearing the weathered paper.
There is a fleeting unease as the name seems to stare back at you from the page, but you brush it away under the weight of logic.
These are just records, nothing more.
Ghosts of the past with no place in the present.
You return to your work, but can't help the lingering sensation of being watched by the shelves themselves.
After hours buried in history, your stomach finally reminds you that you’re still part of the present.
You push back from the workstation, stretching out stiff muscles, and glance at the old clock mounted on the wall.
1:37 PM.
A little later than you'd planned, but there’s still time for a quick lunch.
Grabbing your bag as you pass your office, you step outside, blinking against the sharp contrast of bright afternoon sunlight after the dim, shadowed interior of the library.
The town of Santo Padre is sluggish in the midday heat, the streets half-empty except for the occasional slow-moving car or the distant, lazy growl of a motorcycle passing by.
You don’t notice the man standing in the alleyway across the street.
Dressed in dark clothing, hood up despite the heat, his face is mostly obscured. He leans against the wall, the angle of his body casual yet deliberate, as if watching something.
His gaze follows as you walk toward the small café down the block, but you remain blissfully unaware.
The café is a quaint, family-owned spot, filled with the comforting scent of fresh bread, pastries and spiced coffee.
You settle into a bright seat by the window, grateful for the momentary reprieve from the weight of records and groaning hard drives.
You don’t realize how much you’ve missed this, the simple pleasure of eating in a quiet, sunlit space, watching the world go by through the wide front window.
Your mind drifts as you stir a spoon absently through your drink, eyes scanning the pedestrians outside.
You see a couple walking hand in hand, an elderly man sitting on a bench feeding the birds, a few kids laughing as they dart across the street.
Your gaze glides over the alleyway across from the library—and for a fraction of a second, your stomach tightens.
There’s someone there.
Still.
Unmoving.
The moment is gone almost immediately, the figure stepping back into the shadows. Maybe you imagined it.
You shake off the feeling, finishing your meal. The savory tang of your sandwich taming the growling beast in your belly.
But when you step back outside, walking back toward the library, you can’t shake the feeling of eyes on your back.
The library feels different when you return after lunch.
Maybe it’s the subtle tension in your shoulders, an echo of the unease that had clung to you outside the café.
Maybe it’s the way the light has shifted, golden afternoon spilling through the high arched windows, painting long shadows across the rows of bookshelves.
Or maybe it’s just the lingering thought of that old record with the odd ink spill?
You shake it off, stepping back into the cool, dim sanctuary of the archive room, where time seems to move differently—slower, heavier, woven through with the weight of forgotten history.
Deep breath.
Focus.
You settle back at the workstation, restarting your work on the old drives. The encryption process is meticulous, time-consuming, requiring delicate hands and patience.
Some files are damaged beyond repair, their data fragmented, lost to time.
Others—old census records, council budgets, police reports—reveal glimpses into the past, into a Santo Padre that existed long before you arrived.
Your fingers hover over a file labeled
1983-2003—Municipal Fund Allocation.
Something about it tugs at your curiosity, but before you can open it, the soft laughter of a child drifts through the room.
You blink, drawn back into the present.
Stepping out from the archive room, you find a woman standing near the children’s section, her back to you as she scans the shelves with practiced ease.
She’s polished, even in the casual setting of the library—her tailored sundress effortlessly elegant, blonde hair styled neatly despite the heat of the day.
She holds a young boy on her hip, no older than one, his tiny hands gripping onto the fabric of her dress as he babbles softly to himself.
You hesitate, unsure whether to interrupt, but she senses your presence before you speak.
“Oh—hello.” She turns, smiling warmly.
There’s something familiar and friendly about her.
She adjusts what you assume is her son on her hip, offering a small, polite smile. “You must be the new archivist,” she says, tilting her head slightly. “I'm glad the library filled the position.”
You nod, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “That’s me. Just finished my first week.”
She looks genuinely pleased. “That’s wonderful. Santo Padre’s lucky to have someone passionate about preserving history.”
She gestures toward the shelves. “Libraries are so important for communities like ours. Access to knowledge, resources for families—it’s something I try to advocate for as much as I can.”
You relax a little, appreciating the sentiment. “It’s why I took the job. There’s so much history here that people don’t even realize exists.”
"Forgive me, I'm Emily" she says as she adjusts her son so she can extend her hand, which you politely shake.
"And this is Cristobal" she chuckles as the boy gurgles with a grin in her arms.
Emily bounces her son slightly as he fidgets. “It’s easy to forget what came before us. But places like this help connect people to their roots—to the past.” She continues.
Her words feel strangely weighted, though you can’t pinpoint why.
You glance at the little boy, who’s now reaching out toward the bookshelf. “What’s he looking for?”
Emily laughs, the sound light but careful, like someone used to weighing every response before speaking.
“He’s obsessed with animals right now,” she explains. “Lions, elephants—anything big and loud.”
You step closer, pulling a colorful children’s book from the shelf. “How about this one?” You hold it out, smiling as the boy eagerly grabs for it, babbling excitedly.
Emily watches the exchange, expression unreadable for a moment before she says, “You had a relocation package with the job didn't you?”
The question is casual, but something about it makes your stomach tighten.
You nod. “Yes, im quite lucky, I moved a week before starting.”
Emily studies you carefully, her gaze sharper than before. “And you like it here?”
You hesitate, then nod again. “So far, yeah. It’s… much quieter than I expected.”
Emily’s smile is polite, but there’s something knowing behind her eyes.
Something unspoken.
“This town has its own rhythm,” she says lightly. “It takes time to understand it.”
She adjusts her hold on her son, casting a quick glance toward the front entrance of the library.
You follow her gaze, noting a sleek black SUV and a man with long braids, but see nothing unusual.
When she looks back at you, her expression is warm, but careful.
“I hope you enjoy it here,” she says finally. “Just… be careful, get a car ... if you can afford too"
Before you can ask what she means, her son tugs at her dress, and she shifts her attention back to him, smoothing his hair affectionately.
“It was lovely meeting you,” she says, her tone returning to its effortless charm. “I’m sure we’ll see each other again.”
And with that, she turns, walking toward the exit, her heels clicking softly against the tiled floor.
You stand there, watching them climb into the waiting SUVfeeling like you missed something important.
Okay, I've thought about this a lot. So it's going to be NSFW (sorry) and this time the tables flip. Basically, Talon attacks one of Overwatch's headquarters and reader is there, fighting to keep Talon soldiers away, completely unaware that Reaper is in this mission. Reaper somehow manages to separate reader from her team and she's like "Back for seconds?" and Reaper just wants to put her in her place (she's not opposed wink wink) but she keeps jabbing at him through it all. Calling him desperate, a slut, etc. Maybe at the end they both get caught by a Talon soldier? - Reaper's wifey
Praying this posts without any issue as wifi is shocking in my room. Apologies for the wait!
Reaper x Reader (gen) (as much as I could, but possible female traits)
Word count: 1770
Part 1
NSFW
The last attack was successful. Overwatch got what they wanted and Talon lost what they had. Tensions were rising as the days passed by and somehow the news got out that Talon was infiltrated, dedicated and stealthy heroes claiming another victory while Reyes and his crew suffered major losses.
It irked him, anger rising in his cheeks as he slammed his fist onto the table, a low, dark growl escaping his throat as he shoves whatever was on the table to the floor, a single glass shattering amongst plans and blueprints, pens clattering and rolling under the cabinets.
He was frustrated and in more ways than one. Not only was there the tension between his colleagues, but there was tension within him, something that he couldn’t sate, no matter how slow or fast he got himself off.
Reyes had to do something. He could barely sleep at night as it was, but then you came along, torturing his very body with your words and hands and since then, the sleepless nights only got warmer, his hands roaming his own body in place of yours. That teasing kiss you left him made him crave you, a feeling he hadn’t felt for years. It’s like you had planted a curse on him and he hated it.
The only way to see you again was to get into the Overwatch headquarters and seek you out. Of course, there were more logical ways to see you, but a retaliation attack deemed more sense to him, after all, he’d get what he had lost, and he’d get to have his way with you.
While the others rejected his idea, he shook it off, exclaiming it was for Talon and their ideals, not a manhunt to get you underneath him, of course he kept that unsaid. He was already embarrassed enough that he was caught off guard and that he let you do those things to him. This time will be different, he thought to himself, preparing his team for the infiltration.
There were multiple ways to get inside, brute force, disguises, or be silent and go through the different vents and windows scattered around the building. Reye’s chose all of the above, some going through the front, and while they distracted the guards at the front, they’d go through the vents and when inside, force would be used, not stopping for anything. The teams goal was to get their information back, but also disrupt their forces, taking whoever they needed with them. Reye’s mission was to get you, alone, and to punish you for what you did to him.
When the alarm blared through the speakers, everyone was suddenly on high alert, weapons ready and gradually going into lockdown. Doors slowly locked, one by one clicking shut, windows joined soon after, rooms no longer being able to be accessed from inside or out. Attacks like these were rare, but precautions were made.
One of the more secure wings was heavily guarded as it contained the more valuable intel. It was near impossible to get in without some form keycard… Unless someone where to let another in.
Being one of the more trusted individuals at Overwatch, you were able to come and go as you please, with each entry logged within the system each time. Morrison had radioed you over to the wing to see to the manual lockdown of the doors. While on your way over, Talon soldiers stopped you, weapons raised, but you weren’t about to back down.
A quick succession of punches had them both on the floor, disorientated and unarmed. With a sigh of relief, you hurried to your post, keeping an eye out for any unwanted guests in the process, however, one gaze never left your back and you never noticed them.
With a swipe of your keycard, access to the wing opened up, doors only opening partially to let you in whilst there was an ongoing attack. Little did you know though, as you wandered forward, that there was an intruder lurking behind, watching you close and lock the doors one by one.
He waited. Eyes watching your every move.
Just as you were about to pull a door shut, hands grabbed at your body, forcing you inside, the door slamming shut behind you.
“What the fuck-” You exclaimed, feeling nails like claws press into your sides, a sharp sting following.
“That will be the least of your worries.” His voice was familiar, dark and low. It took a moment to click that the man holding you against the cabinets was the man you had played with the other week. A smirk crossed your face, a playful glint in your eyes as you craned your neck, looking back at the man behind you.
“Well I’ll be damned, if it isn’t the infamous Reaper.” Your smirk never faltered as his hands gripped a little tighter. “Back for seconds?”
He leans forward, pressing his body further into yours as he almost whispers into your ear. “You’re a bitch, did you know that?”
“I’ve been called worse.”
“Is that so?” His hands slowly work their way up your torso. One stops whilst the other keeps moving, grabbing at your neck and pulling your back into him, bodies almost locking together.
“Oh?” A slightly amused laugh escapes you. “Someone is a little desperate…” You could feel him pressing against you, his dick growing harder by the passing second as he kept pushing, stifling a groan.
“Shut up.” It sounded more like a command as he lowered his other hand, the other still gripping your neck, feeling your pulse.
“And you call me a bitch?” Another cocky laugh.
His hand stopped just short of your pants, fingers trailing the waist band and feeling you tense and shiver, a smirk of his own embracing his face. “Someone is a little desperate.” He pressed his mask against your neck, as if wanting to kiss you, but he knew he couldn’t. He wasn’t risking someone coming in, especially an Overwatch agent.
You huffed, embarrassment rising in your cheeks.
“Be a good agent for me.” He chuckled, fingers fumbling with the button before he pulled your pants down in one swift motion, letting the fabric pool around your ankles. He removed his hand from your neck, trailing it down your spine and pushing your torso down, bending you over whilst your arms rested against the cold metal of the cabinet.
He didn’t waste anytime in freeing himself, cock springing out and already leaking with a bead of precum. Rubbing the head of his cock across your slick, he groaned.
“Aw, who’s the desperate whore here.” You suck in a breath, looking over your shoulder to the masked man before he forces himself inside of you, eliciting a soft moan from you.
“That… would be you.” He huffed, hips connecting flush against your ass. It felt like the air around you got thicker and warmer as he pulled back, ramming himself into you at a brutal pace, wanting it to be quick. His claw-like fingers digging into your sides as he fucks you raw, a bruising grip keeping you in place.
Soft whimpers and moans escape you with each thrust, the cabinet rattling as he keeps his pace rough, cock hitting deep inside as he spreads your legs a little further apart.
“My god, Reaper…” You moan out, walls squeezing his cock tight, as you listen to his growls. “You really… are a slut, aren’t you?”
He moves one of his hands over your mouth, keeping you quiet as he pushes himself deeper inside of you, feeling your back arch. A smug grin appears on his face behind his mask as he has his way with you.
“Keep quiet.” He tries to shush you, placing two fingers into your mouth, instantly feeling your tongue lapping away at them. “Such a filthy whore…”
You mumble against his fingers, tongue still licking its way around his fingers.
“Shut up.” He thrusts again, a lot harder and deeper, eliciting another moan from you.
He could feel himself getting close, the way you were squeezing his cock made him want to fuck you more, but his bliss was coming to an end. He moved his fingers from your mouth, wrapping them back around your neck.
“Fuck…” You moan out breathlessly. “What’re you waiting for…? Cum for me… Reaper.”
With another thrust, he did just that, coating your insides white as he buries himself deep within you, a low growl escaping him while he hunches over, masked face resting against your shoulder as he fills you up. His grip was tight on your throat and side, a bruising grip that was sure to leave marks when he lets go.
The room fell eerily silent, save from the breathy gasps and whimpers.
“Such a good boy…” You coo, almost sarcastically. You could tell he thought something of it, whether it was good or bad, by the way he gripped you harder, nails digging into your flesh, threatening to pierce your skin.
He was about to speak up when the door opened, the light from the gap in the door illuminating the sight before the Talon agent.
“What in the everloving fuck-”
You both stared at the agent, eyes wide as your cheeks grew warmer while he hid his embarrassment behind his mask. His cock was still buried inside of you, cum slowly dripping down your thigh.
After what seemed like forever but was in fact two seconds, the door slammed shut again, you and your masked enemy staring at one another.
“I will never hear the end of this…” He sighed, pulling out in a teasing manner, smirking at your small whimper.
You look back at him as you straighten yourself. “Guess you’re torturing yourself with this one.”
“I will not hesitate to kill you.” He threatened.
“Sure, but you won’t have this again though.” You wink at him before he gathers himself together, heading for the door before looking back over his shoulder, watching you bend down to redress yourself.
He felt a pang of lust rise within him. Teasing bitch, he thought, opening the door and closing it behind him, heading back to the main attack site, a grin plastered on his face for only him to see and feel.
You stand in the room for a moment, looking around as you try to cool off. You notice a small slip of paper on the floor, something that wasn’t there before. Upon further inspection, it turns out that he left his number scribbled out on it, handwriting barely legible. Oh, this will be fun…
I wanted to inform y'all that I'm writing a fic I'll be posting here and in wattapad
It's called Fangs
A Gus x Reader fic where I went wild with a love triangle idea (Ghost x reader x Gus) full of gore, angst, nsf# but keeping the humour warm with a witty (y/n) because I love her.
I also noticed that most of you liked my witty reader x Ghost short so I'll be posting more of them and witty reader x other cod characters with any prompts you request
notes: so gabe is my massive theatre nerd baby and i just. i like the idea of him gettin’ a lil lovin’ even after the whole *stares at canon hollowly*. he’s struggling, someone help him .
rating: teen, but these do deal with themes of death / existentialism .
pairing: reaper x gender-neutral reader .
♡ it isn’t a date, it’s a covert meeting to discuss talon business. of course. and you’re not about to put at risk any one-on-one time with him for the sake of teasing
♡ he does actually appreciate that. getting deep in his feelings and having to think about them in even small ways makes him retreat from that which he still needs
♡ sentiment and companionship are part of being human. to try and fluster him over that would only backfire to some foolish assertation that he is no longer human
♡ and you know he is. you catch him rolling his shoulders as take the steps up from your family mausoleum. psyching himself up for the conversation, you imagine, and you bite back a smile
♡ you still can’t sneak up on him, though. he freezes mid-act and turns to glare at you through the holes in his mask, ready with accusations that you intended to make the reaper fear you
♡ if he’s taken aback by your smile, or the way you insist that you would never, it’s hard to tell with his face covered
♡ you’ve seen it, his face. once. it isn’t something that he’d soon like to repeat
♡ you just shrug and explain that you’ve been sneaking around through the underground tunnels in your family’s tomb since you were a teenager
♡ his earlier insistence that this is a private meeting hasn’t slipped your mind, but gabriel lets you regale him about slipping out of the house on cool nights to take in the moonlight
♡ he asks if you were a witch. or a necromancer. both intended as jokes but his are rarely ever received as such. and to his immortal surprise, your bubbling laugh stands at odds with the eerie atmosphere
♡ that’s twice he’s made you smile, it hasn’t even been ten minutes yet
♡ is he proud? he doesn’t like it if he is. he doesn’t like it at all. and what does he care if interrupting is rude, he knows he never should have asked you something so personal in the first place. even is he was aiming to offend
♡ he opens his mouth to cut you off, but it’s in that moment you explain you were neither witch nor graverobber. just lonely
♡ and that it would have been nice to come here with him years ago like how you do now
♡ gabriel has to cough to break the awkward silence that follows, but you don’t seem to regret saying that to him at all. and he doesn’t particularly feel like lashing about against something so unexpected
♡ or, rather, he can’t. he scrambles to find a jab or an insult that will make sure you remember who you’re talking to, but can’t find the words
♡ he lets you breeze past the declaration, and you end up beckoning him to join you on a bench erected in lieu of a headstone for your great-great aunt
♡ to your surprise, gabriel seems too in shock to decline. he doesn’t like to think it was because you were the one who asked, but he slinks to your side and sits down on the cold stone
♡ your thigh bumps his and he’s surprised again by the way it feels. your touch is just as painful as anything else, it hurts to have a body, but it’s worse when you pull away
♡ people forget easily that it hurts for him to exist. like a resurrected corpse that should not be moving, his continued existence is hubris
♡ but you never do. you make a point not to touch him, even as you’re laughing and smiling and acting far too familiar. gabriel is cynical enough that he knows it shouldn’t mean anything, shouldn’t matter that you still value his humanity enough to think about that
♡ still, you treat him like he were alive
♡ and you ask if he really wants to talk business out here, because he’s being awfully quiet. you don’t flinch in the slightest when he bites back that he hardly wants to see you otherwise
♡ your nasty habit of putting him in his place rears again when you just grin and say that’s too bad, you’re always excited just to see him
♡ just to look at him
♡ a kind of looking that isn’t quite as painful as he’s used to, he notes with a jaw clenched so tightly that his face goes numb beneath his mask. he feels hot, stifled
♡ and then you burst into a bubbling flurry of giggles, so air-light and genuinely happy that even gabriel’s frayed nerves can’t find fault in it
♡ your hand extends and stops just a fraction away from his masked shoulder, pantomiming comfort to the point where he can almost imagine feeling you touch him. and imagining it feeling good
♡ this creeping sensation doesn’t last, you pull back and skip to the part in the conversation where you start asking questions about new team members, about how they’ll fit and what he’s planning
♡ it’s easy enough to fall back into terse, sarcastic banter. gabriel isn’t sure he likes it more, but he understands it far better than your attempts to be sweet. there isn’t much more he distrusts
♡ it’s obvious you’re fond of him, but it’s the why that makes him sit on the bench in silence long after you’ve kissed the air around his cheeks and disappeared back to the real world
♡ he feels lonely and empty all the time, but he notices it most without you providing a distraction. and he fights that feeling so hard, even if gabriel secretly hopes he’s never able to push you away completely
♡ no one has ever stuck around through his corrosive exterior, not even before the accident. but you laugh with him, and have a trained eye for picking out his behaviour that shows he likes you more than he lets on
♡ it isn’t fair to you, he knows that. and even gabriel isn’t so far gone that he can’t care about that. but if what you want is to joke and flirt with him surrounded by the dead every so often, he’ll keep asking you to meet there
♡ the alternative is suffering as he does alone, and you’ve made that unbearable.
I totally get trying to be a few chapters ahead for a series, and I do that too. But I’m not good at logging onto tumblr consistently to add to the queue so I fail to post anyway. I’m so awful to my readers! Anyway, may I please request a Gabriel Reyes x Reader after Overwatch reunites? Reader was part of Overwatch the first time around and was with Gabe, and now they meet on opposing sides and she knows that it’s him under Reaper’s mask? Thank you!
Listen. If you tell me that you write on tumblr, ima have to request that username so i can r e a d your s t u f f :3 You’re not awful to your readers, don’t think that!!
I really hope you enjoy this~
You had gotten a called from a laboratory in your city for your assistance, your uh…‘muscle’ as the person who called you put it. You listened to the call, gave the appropriate ‘uh-huhs’ as they rattled off why they needed help – a delivery across town – and how much they’d pay – you heard all those zeroes, right?
“So why can’t you hire an actual security firm?” you asked as you skimmed through your calendar. “They’re much cheaper, and come with more people.”
“Because its Talon that wants our shipment.”
Your spine straightened so fast that it hurt. “Talon?”
“Y-Yes, ma’am. A few of our shipments have gotten taken already. T-Those that were there, that got away, they said it was Talon members who took it.” The man on the other end of the phone took in a shaky breath. “Listen, we can’t afford to lose this shipment! The equipment inside, we know it’s what they want, but it’s invaluable. It’s cost us decades of research!”
The shock finally sunk in. Your skin was clammy, cold, covered in sweat. “You had me at Talon,” you murmured. You checked your watch, tapped its screen, watched as a map of the city appeared right in front of your face. You leaned back and blinked too hard, squeezed your eyes shut, went cross-eyed. “What time do I need to be there?”
“The shipment goes out at five o’clock,” the scientist stuttered.
“I’ll be there at four-thirty.”
You were actually there are four-fifteen, taking stock of the people that were supposed to go deliver the shipment with you. You sent three of the ten people home when they answered that they weren’t willing to die for this thing. It took another twenty minutes after that for everything to be finalized, for the shipment to be loaded into the truck, and for you to be ready to go.
It was five-twenty-three.
Talon hit you at five-thirty.
The truck flipped, sending you and the people inside sprawling. You thanked your forethought for magnetically attaching the shipment to the bottom of the truck, or you and a few others would have been flattened by it. There was gunfire by the time you opened the doors.
A massive gun pointed at the spot between your eyes when you looked up. It was a familiar gun, too familiar, and you followed it up to the arm that held it, then the shoulder, and finally the mask.
You didn’t have to see his face to know you both shared the same expression: shock, confusion, and a little bit of fury.
His clawed finger moved away from the trigger.
The people behind you moved. The gun was quick to move, precise, and the thundering shots made your ears ring as they took out the others. It returned to your face.
“You’re not gonna kill me,” you whispered.
“Not yet.”
“Not ever. You can’t.”
You two stared each other down. The gunfire outside of the truck ceased.
“What’s he doing?” a girl whispered.
“Reuniting with someone, I believe,” another woman responded.
“We’re working,” the first droned.
“Do you want to interrupt him?” a third woman asked.
Gabe’s hand replaced the gun in your face, fingers unfurling in a gesture of peace. When you placed your hand in his, he pulled you to your feet. As you stood, his hand released yours to thread his fingers through your hair. He tilted your head up to pressed his forehead against yours.
“Did you take this job to see me?” he whispered.
“No, they just happened to pay well,” you answered.
He chuckled. You reached up, tugging this mask away with the slightest of movements. He let you. His eyes were closed as you took in his face, his skin cold as you traced his jaw.
“I’ve missed you,” you breathed.
Sirens pressed through the air, growing closer. Gabe glanced over his shoulder at the others that stood behind him. “We have to go.”
“But—”
“I won’t be far.”
He and the shipment disappeared in a cloud of smoke.
You saw the vague outlines of people that took their own way out. It was mere seconds before the lights bounced off the buildings lining the street. You just watched them.
Love and caring for you is an elbow in the gut. A firm, harsh hand on the back of your neck, setting you up right after you’ve doubled over. It’s a sharp whistle-command that sends an electric shot of obedience through your chest every, single, time. Your ear prickling up at the sound, like the trained mutt that you are. Caring feels like a smack on the back of the head so hard, your head spins, vision wavers, and your ears flood with the fast lub-dubs of your own heartbeat. Caring is the heavy blanket; the unwavering, watchful eye of your Commander; your Lord and Savior Gabriel Reyes.
Passion feels like his hand grazing up and down your spine as you ride your brother. The blade at the nape of your neck. His breath in your ear, telling each of his dogs how good they are. All per his direct order. It feels like the grip of your brother’s hands on your hips. The look in Jesse’s eyes that says “I wouldn’t wanna be here with anyone else,” as you're both down on hands and knees, cleaning Reyes’ boots with your tounges.
You used to think your brother was the ugliest mother fucker alive. But now, time and time again, you watch him in the most demeaning situations, thinking you’ve never seen someone look more desirable. Jesse used to be of the same mind.
“Y’all know your twins right?” An echo of a voice from a long, long time ago.
Jesse, back when he was real young and ornery, “That don’t mean she don’t look like a rat’s ass, carryin’ a rat’s nest around on her head.”
Even then, before Gabriel's influence, a swift punch to the gut meant, ‘I love you.’ You buried your fist into Jesse’s side with a little grin on your face, and a quip. “At least I don’t carry a dirty mop around on my face. Wash the floor with that thing you call a beard and it’d get dirtier.”
The commander had worked your perspective of each other, and of him, like a sculpture. If you didn’t know any better you could swear he literally molded you both into more desirable versions of yourselves. Changed every last thing about you and your brother. Removed the shared blood from your veins… surely that must be the only way…
But that’s not true. Reyes never once let either of you forget who you are to each other. And you’ve still got the same rat’s nest atop your head. A mass of hair that your brother can’t get enough of smelling. Of burying his face into. Loves entangling his fingers into your locks whenever you’re taking his cock into your mouth; per Reyes’ order. Often you don’t care about how good it is for your brother. Rather, your gaze flits to Papi who sits back and watches as he always does. Wondering if your technic is pleasing him.
“That’s one of your best looks, nena.” Words that never fail to bait back the momentary waves of nausea that come around every so often. The cruel nagging sensations that stand to remind you just who’s dick your lips are wrapped around.
Never in your life have you wanted to be a ‘good girl’. You never could give a shit about it. Deadlock would have been sure death for a ‘good girl’. But when it comes from a man, who to you, seems closer to God than mortal the sound of it always tugs at your strings. Works your limbs, emotions, and actions like a living puppet.
You and Jesse were born together. Lost your parents together. Got into Deadlock together. Have gotten into endless amounts of shit together. Got arrested, and eventually taken in by Commander Gabriel Reyes, together. As far as you’re concerned the Commander saved your lives; even if at the time you couldn’t have been more ungrateful for the life intervention.
They had made the mistake of separating you from your brother, and for days. Keeping you in separate holding rooms. Where the both of you had become hostel vipers. Snapping and spitting at any agent who tried to come and question you. “Where the fuck is my sister/brother?!”
That was until, Commander Gabriel Reyes. He had walked into your holding cell. Carrying all the weight of a man with command and power. An imposing angel, wearing all black, and a beanie. Had demanded, “You better not fuckin’ bite me.” Before unlocking your cuffs, and showing you the open doorway.
That was the first time he ever touched you. Curled his fingers around your arm. Yanked you out of the chair and escorted you right to your brother. Who still had blood on his lip and brow from the days past. All crusted and dark. Purple and yellow bruises framing the corner of his mouth and the swell of his brow bone.
Immediately you started using the hem of your shirt and your own spit to try and clean him up. Albeit roughly you had good intentions. If Jesse hadn’t been so happy to see you he would have swatted you away and said, “Quit it, ya fuckin’ Mother Hen.”
Instead, he was happy to have your harsh, unsanitary cleanup. Leaned into the only person who could ever make him feel like he’s right at home anywhere. Even in a small windowless holding cell, with his wrists locked painfully tight to the desk.
Reyes hit the table, gave both you and Jesse a sudden start. “Knock it off!“ He held up his hand up with an open palm. “A couple of fuckin’ animals. I’ll get you a washcloth. Five minutes. Behave, while I’m gone.”
Reyes would never have to give such blatant commands now. A shrill whistle would do the trick. He had left you and Jesse to talk shit. To try to work up a plan to escape as soon as possible; also something that would never happen now. After all, what escape is there for two outlaws housed in the only sanctuary that would take you. With the only holy minister who would ever demand it, sanctuary.
Then the Commander had come back with bottles of water, a rag, and food; real food. It had been so very long since the last time you and your brother had had a full plate of anything. And the last time you were handed a full plate of food for nothing, you were six years old, and it had come from the hands of your mother. From the moment your parents died, full plates had to be earned and were not simply given. Though that doesn't change. Everything you receive is earned these days.
The both of you had stared at the plates for so long that Reyes felt the need to question, “You two ingrates ever seen food before?”
Jesse scowled at him, anger boiled in his chest. He’d learned not to trust a single person, not to take any act of kindness at face value. Smart, wise; for a big gullible idiot.
“What do you want?”
“For the two of you to cooperate,” Reyes stated as he leaned forward and freed Jesse’s wrists, “and eat.”
While the plates of food had been kind, the questioning was not. And somehow that had made the food easier to swallow. Knowing that while the food that you were putting into your mouths was real, that the Commander wasn’t necessarily doing you any favors; he wasn’t being… false. He didn’t sit at the other end of the desk with a concocted smile or sugared words.
Reyes made sure it was crystal clear that he held your fates in his hands. Knew every little thing there was to know about your pasts. Right down to, and including, the dates and times you were both born. “So that technically makes you the younger one,” Reyes said, referring to you.
“Yeah, I know.” Only the slightest tinge of attitude, as you nudged Jesse. “He don’t ever let me forget it… Sir.” More than a tinge of attitude in the last word.
Strike Commander Morrison had thought it would be impossible to tame two pissed off snakes, but Reyes had done it. With calm words of authority and a long discussion of what would be expected from the two of you; you were eventually signed up for Blackwatch.
Even against all of the protest, Morrison had had against it. Something you had inadvertently learned about later on down the line. You both had been a baby hair away from being thrown in jail for the rest of your lives. Never to see each other again. You owe the commander, everything.
A year later and you can hardly remember a time when you dared to be so defiant, really defiant. Now defiance comes from a sick place of want. From a place that warms your insides, and makes your mouth salivate. When you crave your Papi’s harsh affections, like a bitch in heat.
Standing in the middle of Reyes' private training room, you’ve got to piss like a racehorse. He's been making you and your brother hold it all damn day long. For no other reason than he said so, and that's good enough. So you better listen and stop asking when.
You’ve been told to warm up using each other, while Reyes standing back and watches the two of your wrestle and roll around on the mat. Thinking to himself that the two of you never fail to be annoyingly gentle with each other, a quirk he hasn’t quite been able to bleed out of your systems yet.
All of a sudden Jesse throws a sloppy elbow and it collides with your nose. Putting an abrupt stop to your timid quarrel. Reyes sighs, dissatisfied. That would have been better if Jesse had landed it with purpose, and not on complete accident. And if the abrupt halt wasn't coming from the kid's the need to apologize to his sister.
You’re not having any of his pokes, prods, or apologies. Shoving him away with two firm open palms on his chest. Then you wipe your nose and show your clean hand to him. “Ain’t even made me bleed,” you say with an air of confidence and cockiness. Reyes will have to amend that.
Reyes pushes up off the wall. His advancing putting a stop to each of your movements. The both of you standing still as trees with deep reaching roots in the ground.
As he takes his rightful place between the two of you Reyes cracks on elbow against your face. With every bit of the intention and purpose he wants to see from Jesse, and even more.
Flying back you hit the floor like a bag of bricks. Cover your face with your hands and slam your foot down against the floor several times. Working through the pain, sucking in sharp breaths of air.
“Now you are.” He squats down next to your writhing form. Says a-matter-of-factly, “That’s what a mutt gets for being cocky.”
Reyes waits ‘til you look him in the eye. When you do he whistles, and nods towards the wall. Git. Acknowledges your seat down on the floor, leaning against the wall with a nod of approval. Sit, stay, good dog.
Even for all of the spitfire that your brother has he’s never a match for Gabriel. Never will be. Reyes doesn’t train like most. Doesn’t wait. Isn’t patient. He comes at you fast, and he comes at you relentlessly hard. Giving brief suggestions, but generally expecting you to figure it out.
“Use your fuckin’ brain. Common sense says if I’m throwing a punch at your face then you should be putting up your arms to block.” When the punch lands across Jesse’s jaw and he stumbles to the floor Gabriel states, “Or you get hit. Simple.”
Jesse tries to get up, but the flat of Reyes’ boot swiftly meeting his hip knocks him over onto his back. Jesse’s teeth bare, a little whimper as he tries again to get back up. But again, Reyes does not allow it. Jesse simply isn’t moving fast enough to gain any leeway. His brain too clouded by the immense pressure in his belly. Getting tossed around on the mat certainly ain’t helping one bit.
Reyes drops his knee onto Jesse’s gut. Cruelly leans into it, making Jesse whimper pathetically loud. “Aw– for fuck’s sake, Dad.”
Gabriel reaches out and snatches up Jess’s jaw. “Do something about it, Kid.”
Jesse tries and tries. Reyes slamming him down like a rag doll. Landing punches and elbows into his belly. When Reyes finally gets what he’s working after, it’s not from any of the hits that he thought would warrant it. Rather a thick arm wrapped around the boy’s neck so tight that darkness looms in his vision and he loses control of his bladder.
Gabriel lets him drop to the ground with a thud. Choking on a breath, sputtering through tears. Actual tears, the kid is crying. The light grey fabric of McCree’s sweats, growing darker and wetter with every shake of his shoulders. The boy not finding the where-with-all to stop the stream of piss.
Gabe’s dick twitches at the sight. Swells, taking over the forefront of his brain. Growing thicker and longer at the live picture of his boy bent over, with a wet face and a wet crotch. Humiliated, sobbing like a baby. That’s the ticket.
Reyes presses the toe of his boot into Jesse’s crotch. Presses ‘til the boy whines and tries wriggling away. “Filthy mutt.”
Gabriel is taken aback for a moment. Is nearly startled when suddenly you are at your brother’s side. Leaving your place without being told to come? Bad girl.
Petting your brother’s sweat laced hair you try and comfort him. Tug on his arm, encouraging him to try and sit back up. “Come on Jesse it ain’t that big’a deal, stop cryin’.”
Before you have the chance to get him back up on his knees. Reyes plants a foot on his ass and shoves him forward. “You’re done, Kid. Get off the mat.” Jesse never does get back on his feet. Instead crawls to the wall and sulks there.
Then he looks to you. You now have his undivided attention. His girl who has already earned punishment from a trivial act of defiance, but defiance none the less. But first, he’s still set out to bring you to the breaking point. Just like he did your brother. The more reasons for punishment, the better.
“Up,” Reyes says to you. Still sporting smudged blood underneath your nose. Neither of you ever seem to learn that he won’t be giving any heads up. You’re never ready, never on your toes. Reyes feigns as if he’s walking towards the middle of the mat. Only to whip around and knock an elbow into your face again. Sweeps your legs out from under you with his foot.
Gabe yanks you back up onto your feet. Ready to knock you right back down. Already you seem to be far more determined than your brother today. Able to conjure up more mental willpower. Successfully able to block out the grand distraction in your bladder. All of the warmth barely able to slosh around with how bursting you are. Reyes made sure to keep each of his kids sufficiently hydrated today.
You’re too small and don’t have enough momentum to take him to the ground. So you leap up, locking your legs around his waist. Manage to drive an elbow down between his neck and shoulder. Barely a dull throb for him. You’re like a child trying to punch their parent’s leg during a temper tantrum.
That gives Reyes a good chuckle. Grabs you by your waist and body slams you down onto the ground. Knocking the wind from your lungs. Gabe rears back to get a good look at you as you struggle. Bright red blood pouring out of your nose. Running down over your lips. Staining your bared teeth. You’re pissed, that’s clear. Good.
He tries to throw a punch at your jaw. It’s exposed, so you deserve it. Your arms flying up to take the brunt. His fist colliding with the bone in your forearm. You scream, clutching your arm to your chest. Wriggling and writhing underneath him trying to get away. Doing nothing but making his dick harder.
Reyes does the same routine with you that he did with Jesse. Except if you’re going to act tough, like you can do a damn thing, then he’s going to be especially harsh on you. Tossing you around, choking you out. Landing punches and pinning you down with his knee. Round about now was the time Jesse had broken down, but you’re being so fucking stubborn today.
He knocks you down again. Before you’re able to get back up off the floor, Gabe kicks you in the gut. Nothing. He rears his leg back and does it again, and again. Each kick warranting a loud wail of pain.
Until finally you piss yourself. Not even aware that it’s happening. Too focused on the throbbing in your belly to notice the wetness flowing from your body. That’s a shame because you don’t seem to give a shit about it like Jesse did. How unsatisfying. All that work for nothing.
Gabe waits for a moment. Bides his time. Watches your legs shake, and the tears roll down your temples. Waiting to see if Jesse is going to assume that he can come and comfort his sibling like you did. Whether he does or does not, will determine how the next series of events will go down. His girl will give him satisfaction. And all that blood is giving him ideas and mental pictures.
Whether him getting it will be especially rough for just you, or the both of you; is up to the kid still sniffling against the wall and Jesse isn’t even aware of it. Though neither of you has learned to be aware of when Gabe is actually giving you a choice. When he’s testing you.
Jesse doesn’t budge. Reyes throws his head back and sighs. Pleased and yet not. Looks back first at the mutt in the same exact spot. Not moving a muscle. No matter how spring loaded his body looks.
Reyes takes a gander at all of the glisten. The wet stains soaking and drying on the mat. Shaking his head back and forth, he sniffs the air. Turns up his lip and nose. “I know I trained you better than this.”
For the first time during this whole “training session” you look at him with true hurt in your eyes. After all of the harsh hits. Even after the humiliation, he inflicted on your brother. All it takes it takes is a little verbal disapproval to get your gears working to figure out what you have to do to earn it back.
Gabriel dips down, cups your face. Runs his thumb along the space between your nose and your upper lip, collecting fresh blood. Circles it back around to press it between your lips. Making you suckle on your own copper. Like a puppy at their mother’s teat, you whimper.
Reyes whistles, come. McCree launches himself up off the floor. Takes his place next to Gabriel, awaiting orders. Gabe straightens up. Places a strong hand on the back of Jesse’s neck. Grins at how flustered his boy becomes. Now that never fails to be satisfying. Seeing his influence change every nuance of the kid’s face. Instantly half-lidded, mouth agape with heavy breath.
Gabe roughly undoes the kid’s pants. Spits into his palm and starts stroking his dick. Watching him as his bloodstained teeth are bared. Sure, Jesse didn’t come out looking quite as battered as you do right now, but he didn’t come away unscathed. Bruises coming to fruition around each of his eyes. Neck still ruddy and swollen. Later Reyes will be inspecting the ones that show up elsewhere. Really take time to admire all his hard work. For now…
“Look at your sister,” Reyes demands. Jesse does, tearing his attention away from Gabriel’s face. Length hard, full of blood, and heat in his palm. He keeps stroking him while working his magic. “She looks really good like this. All of that blood on her face,” then he looks to you, “Red’s a good color on you.”
As expected, Jesse agrees. “It is.”
“Get behind her, Boy. Down on the floor.”
McCree seemingly already knows what Reyes wants. Slides right into autopilot. Gets behind you and helps you get up on your knees. Looks to Reyes to make sure he’s doing what he wants as his hand's fumble around with the strings of your sweatpants. Tugs them down just enough. Slides his knees onto either side of your own, then sits back.
You, who is having an off day, has yet to slide into autopilot yet. Need to be told, “Sit.”
Placing your hands on Jesse’s knees for leverage you lower yourself down onto your brother’s erect length. Keep going ’til you feel the cold metal of his belt and zipper against your cheeks. Fully-seated, stuffed up with your kin. Awaiting the instructions of the only man who’s ever come close to being a father to you and your brother.
The commander palming the bulge in his pants as he slowly undoes his own belt. A belt that makes your eye twitch, and your stomach lurch. A belt that you know intimately. Just the sight of it as it’s slinked out of the belt loops, the long-familiar hiss of it, get’s your adrenaline pumping.
Gabriel side eyes Jesse has he loops it around your neck. “Fuck her, Kid.”
Jesse’s head falls between your shoulder blades, another familiar feeling. His hands hooking in between your thighs. Grips as he starts to buck up into you. Reyes puts the end of his belt through the buckle. Gives it one good tug. Allowing the buckle enough momentum to slide down the length of the leather, ’til the metal meets the base of your neck. Wraps the belt around his fist several times, ’til it’s just beginning to dig into your larynx.
Gabe widens his stance. Both lowering himself and planting his feet just on either side of Jesse’s knees. With a few flicks of his free wrist, his cock is in your face and you know just what you need to do. Your jaw hurts, your nose is throbbing. But you open up, allowing for Reyes to jam his length into your mouth. Relentlessly leaning in. Uncaring about the violent gag that makes your whole body heave.
Reyes fucks your mouth. His length sliding in and out of your blood-stained face, looking far better than the mental picture he had earlier. He glows with pride, knowing that no matter the fantasy he can use either of his twins to help him fulfill it. Two of his own personal puppets. With a little finesse, he can get either of you to do whatever he wants.
The belt becomes tighter and tighter around your neck with every single thrust. Saliva seeping out of the corners of your mouth. Your brother huffing and puffing against your back. His strokes barely pulling back, before they are slamming back into you. New tears streaming down your face every time Gabe’s pelvis meets your abused nose.
Jesse’s cock expands inside of you. The snaps of his hips stilling as his grip on the inside of your thighs tightens. “Ah, damn, Moonshine— oh, shit— can I cum, Dad?”
“No. This isn’t for your benefit.”
Jesse lets out a long pained groan. Stopping completely to focus on bringing himself back from the brink.
Reyes wraps the leather around his fist again. Between his cock, and the metal you can’t breathe anymore. A few moments later, just as your about to pass out. Hot, choking ropes of seed spurt down your throat.
The leather lets up, and so does your Papi. Pulling his cock out of your mouth before he’s done cumming. You’re too focused on breathing and swallowing. Too focused to notice or care about the spurts of seed that hit your cheek. Roll down, collecting dried up blood. Dripping down onto the already soiled up mat.
“Jesse, your sister’s face is filthy. Clean it.”
Jesse huffs, still struggling to keep pumping into you without busting. “Okay, okay.”
Leaning back to make it easier on him, you turn your head to the side. Jesse feverishly licks the cum, blood, and saliva from your face. Lapping it all up with short and quick drags of his tongue. Laps turning into kisses as he cleans off your lips.
His nose brushes against your own causing you to wince. He pecs your lips one more time whispering, “Sorry, Sugar, sorry… sorry.”
It was only supposed to be one more pec. But it turns into another one. “S’okay Jesse.” And another one, and another one. Until you both become a little lost in kissing and fucking. Forgetting for a moment who exactly you’re fucking for. That is, until a shrill whistle breaks through your sweet little moment, stop, and you both come to an abrupt halt.
The both of you look up at Gabriel, ears prickled. Waiting to hear some praise. He gives it to you. Each getting an individual “good girl” and “good boy.” You both might as well be sitting on hands and knees with your tongues lolling out of your mouths. What’s next Master? What trick do you want us to perform next?
By now you have an inkling of what comes next. You’ll be expected to clean up your messes. Then he’ll take time tending to your injuries. And you’ll cherish every gentle press of the ice. All the time he’ll spend cleaning you and your brother up. Heeding every hint he gives that says, when people ask, and they will, you and your brother did this to eachother. Tsk, tsk; the quarrels of siblings. What is he going to do with the two of you?
i don’t mean to cast shade on anyone, but if you have a fav, gabe could outflirt them
suave as shit. even the most innocuous of things can suddenly be a topic of flirtation.
he likes to pay special attention to you, the object of his affection: giving you a nickname, drawling your name out, greeting you first.
he’s got a special smile reserved for you: the corners of his eyes crinkle, and sometimes, he likes to wink
who taught mccree how to smirk? this guy.
he likes to compliment you until you’re blushing: “look at you - gorgeous. unreal. you’re too damn beautiful, cariño. beautiful!”
he’s confident and sure of himself, so he doesn’t feel the need to show off, but he’ll draw attention to certain aspects of himself from time to time, just to play himself up. “[y/n], tell me i don’t have the best assets in this place.”
expect a good bit of innuendo
gabe notices a lot more than he lets on - so expect him to start mentioning specific things you’ve said, or talk about things you’ve mentioned in the past.
Angst/ GORE/ one chaotic Reyes/ torture/ random military shit I don't understand/ loss/ heavy pinning
- Reyes never thought he'd end up facing the stress of thinking he lost the love of his life. It had to be a wakeup call, as he never truly confessed how he felt until your ghost appeared at the gates of the base with a promotion and your wittiness intact.
🐥I friggin love writing Reyes 💕
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You weren't even supposed to be on this mission, your presence was a last minute addition. Reyes didn't shy away from voicing up his discomfort and as always, his complains were shut down. After all, SpecGru needed as much help as it could get and for your superiors you were just one face amongst a big platoon. Said mission, involved the SpecGru forces to return valuable stolen Intel as well as the "elimination" of a newly founded terrorist organization. It's HQ was hidden underground on the frontiers of an abandoned village called Türkisfarbene Wiese (Turquoise meadow) therefore this mission was called the Turquoise operation.
Reyes knew you were a badass and could handle yourself perfectly well but this particular mission was nuts and he was adamant on keeping you away from the danger, but the only person equally as stubborn as him (surprisingly and to his dismay) was you. So for your big pair of ovaries YOU had to go and he had to keep quiet about it.
"Are you so afraid of my well-being, Enzo? Do you have a crush on me or something?"
He remembers the way you teased him with that stupid little smirk he wanted to rob you with a kiss. Of course he denied your claims and acted angry all the way there, but fuck he had no idea that would be the last time he'd see you. If only he had known... He would have confessed the feelings he had harboured for you ever since you two begun bantering for the first time.
Enzo scratches his beard aggressively (a nervous tick you always made fun of) sitting on an uncomfortable metallic chair on a far corner of an interrogation room as he replays how the mission went, the sounds of grunts and screams of the room he was in while unanswered questions were thrown became a background noise as his mind projected the symphony of war and carnage of the day he lost you. Reyes remembers the moment they had to call for evac, a rain of bullets falling upon you all as the enemy troops had managed to ambush your three teams at the same bloody time in the middle of the misty night. Most of your soldiers' lives were wasted as the mission had just begun, you didn't even have the chance to focus your attention on one single place when the enemy had surrounded your landing spot, many armed men came from every direction but luckily you managed to hide yourself behind a crusty, rotten fence as it was your only cover while you tried to stop the bleeding from a shot on your thigh. To Enzo's absolute terror the enemy had found you before he could approach and defend your position and snatched your wounded body away just as the friendly helicopter rushed to get the remaining operators out of the butchery of the warzone. His body shivered at the memory of how you screamed when they jabbed a blade into your lower back until one of the terrorists convinced the other to keep you as bait along with a few other soldiers. How your eyes, those eyes normally full of amusement and happiness morphed into panic looking at Reyes as he ascended into the air with the others restraining him from jumping out of the heli to get you.
No one ever saw Reyes without you. Who was Reyes without his (y/n)? Another dumb bastard with no reason to fight but money, the little care he held for humanity vanished compleatly when they left you behind on the enemy's claws.
Your team spent one week with no clue on where you were being kept at, until suddenly out of nowhere, the enemy mailed a couple of videos to your distraught Team Leader. Videos that seemed to have been taken out of a horror movie, videos of your torturers doing things to your body that drove your whole unit nuts. Reyes remembers watching them wide-eyed but emotionless, his autumn eyes never leaving you beautiful damaged and bloodied face from the screen even when the others had to look away or straight up leave the room because they refused to see their dear comrades being handled like that.
You were (Y/n) the unbreakable, the most agile and loyal soldier SpecGru has ever been blessed to have, the comedy relief, everyone's best friend, Reyes' everything. His bunny, his love. They seemed to know how much you meant for your team and your leader, so their tortures were much crueller with you and because of this everyone instantly came to the conclusion that you were dead, because there was simply no way a normal human being could survive for so fucking long the horrors they had put you through.
Laswell and a team she selected personally tracked your location the same day the terrorists sent those videos. Reyes was the first to volunteer to go after you, but Team Leader was sane enough to leave the Canadian out of the rescue mission knowing his impulsiveness could risk the lives of his other teammates and the other hostages, so Enzo waited and waited and finally the team had returned. Not with you, but with the head of the terrorist organization and the other operators they had captured and tortured.
The same man who tortured and played with your beautiful body, who made you scream and make noises that Reyes thought he'd never hear coming from your mouth, that monster was sitting in the same room as him.
Gus and Nova were in charge to keep a close eye on Reyes as well as torture the information out of the captured bastard. But after hours of painful interrogation, none of them got the answers they wanted. Gus, frustrated, let out a raged shout and shoved the auxiliary cart to the side making it rattle loudly as it crashed against the wall almost dropping the torture tools to the floor after his last fruitless attempt to make the villain speak sense. The only words coming from him were broken pleas for mercy, what a coward. Nova was in distress wanting nothing more than to go back to her quarters and cry, and Reyes? He had enough watching from the sidelines and decided to stand up and do something because these two weren't going anywhere with this guy. He probably didn't even know where his own men dropped your body, bastard.
The chair screeched against the floor as Reyes slowly stood up, Gus and Nova had no energy to send him back to his seat, they heard his footsteps approaching slowly but with confidence.
"You took her from me." He spoke emotionless with a blank expression inspecting the bloodied tools in their metallic container. 'These won't suffice' he thought, so he decided to take action with his own hands. Reyes walked to the killer's front, one hand launched forwards and gripped the neck of his shirt while the other rose with a shaky fist ready to hit the criminal square in the nose.
"YOU TOUCHED HER," one punch, "YOU TORTURED HER," another punch, "YOU MURDERED HER," another punch this time cracking bone and his own knuckles, "YOU HID HER FUCKING BODY!" One last punch, before he spared the bastard a few seconds to spit out some broken teeth. "AND YOU EXPECT MERCY WHEN YOU SHOWED NONE!" Enzo gritted his teeth in enraged.
Nova and Gus held him back just when he was about to launch to take a tool from the auxiliary cart to stab the bloodied man to death. Reyes violently squirmed on their hold struggling to push away the other operators, animalistic snarls and yells echoed through the small room. Gus made a quick move to disarm the heartbroken soldier "YOU TOOK HER FROM ME-!" Nova pleaded Enzo to stop with broken sobs, but Reyes couldn't listen as he poured his aching heart, his eyes quickly filled with angry tears he refused to shed "YOU ROBBED ME...!! YOU-!"
"STOP!" Nova slapped him so hard his whole body shagged to the side, Gus huffed in effort trying to pull him up, then proceeded to sit the heaving brunette on the chair he previously sat on, bloodied knuckles shaking on his lap, his dark chocolate hair hiding his expression from the pitied stares from his comrades. The two of them shared a heavy look, Gus nods and Nova sighs trying to hide her pain putting a neutral expression.
"Where is she. It's a simple question."
The man stayed silent except from some wet pants and gargles trying to spit the flowing blood from his broken mouth and nose to the floor. Nova continued.
"Let's make this easy, i don't want to hurt you."
"But I will." Reyes clears.
"Mae, stop." Gus tried to warn Enzo, but this only seemed to infuriate him further.
"SHUT YOUR FUCKING HOLE! We've got the bastard where we wanted and now you blink!?" Enzo yells, his voice lazed with heartbreak showing more emotion than he had shown this whole week without you. There was a pregnant pause amongst the three operators, the anger and resentment was palpable. The loss struck them too hard, but they had to remain professional or else this whole interrogation would be for nothing.
"We've got orders and we will stick to them, luv..." Nova said calmly but Reyes had other plans. The images he had seen on the monitor haunted him until today, he couldn't sleep, couldn't eat more than a few sad portions of fruit Gus forced him to have, if he wasn't complaining about what happened or keeping tabs on the investigation he kept quiet. Reyes had become too hot to hold, the bubble of suppressed emotions did nothing but grow and grow the longer they spent searching for a trace of your body and now it had to explode or else he'd lose his god-damned mind more than he already has.
The culprit just sits here in total silence. Seeing his pathetic non-cooperative self pushed Reyes to ready himself to have the tumor that infected his life extirpated just like he had done to you.
Enzo stands up again, slower this time to feign a much calmer state as not to alert his teammates. He huffs, licks his lower lip and nods.
"Yeah?... Yeah, well fuck that."
Gus felt a firm tug on his belt, a shuffle from the man in front of him and in a blink the hostage's brains were scattered all over the stone floor reaching the wall and a small portion of the ceiling behind him. Reyes had snatched Gus' shotgun out of his holder and ended the captive's life like one would kill a bug with a sandal. The gore was so impacting that Nova, wide-eyed and frightened, turned away quickly facing the opposite wall where the exit was with both hands covering her ears, the ringing of the shot rattled her head like a thousand nails. Gus stared in shock, watching every detail of the open skull that a second ago was a head, his heartbeats were so strong he could hear nothing but them, his knees slightly shaking with adrenaline. Meanwhile Reyes spat on the body, the splutter of saliva mixed with the scrambled brain matter on the cracked shell of the criminal's cranium. The only clue that incriminated Enzo of what he had done was a droplet of blood that landed on his sleeve. He'll have to wash that later with much satisfaction that he had avenged you after all.
"This look suits the son of a bitch better don't ya think?" Reyes smirks at his frozen and silent companions to later look down at the corpse with a sneer "This is for my (Y/n), you little bitch." He spat once more, throwing a stomp that landed right onto what resembled an eyeball.
Enzo handed Gus the shotgun but the Rican was still in shock refusing to look at his brother in arms while clenching his fists to his sides trying to cease their tremble, so Reyes simply dropped the weapon to the floor beside his petrified friend, the sound of the clattering firearm made Gus flinch before Reyes stormed out opening the metal door with a hard shove, several people were already rushing in to see what the fuck just happend alerted by the shot. Nova yelled Enzo's name from inside the torture room, the initial scare had frozen her on the spot not letting a single step be planted, her voice echoed through the hall calling for him as Enzo, suddenly feeling lighter, left the place and his shocked mates further behind with each rushed step he took.
"(Y/n), I did it. I finally did it." He whispered down to your dog tags that hanged from his neck "What now...?"
What now? You weren't coming back to him. Did he feel any better for killing your killer? He felt lighter before until it turned into nothing. Reyes now could only feel bitterness because the pain didn't lessen, because you weren't there to congratulate or annoy him with one of your witty lines to cheer him up. His breathing got heavier, he need you to breath for him again because he couldn't breath for you as you were no longer here, he'd give you his lungs, all of his organs and his very soul so you could still be roaming in the land of the living. Nova once told him it was easier to fight for a person rather than a flag. Now that he knows what it is to lose said person, he regrets wanting to have you in the first place. How cruel could you be that even if he never told you that he loved you you managed to cut him so deep by leaving him behind when he was still trying to plan a way to confess? You left without hearing what he wanted to say. You cruel, unfair bitch.
His lower lip wobbles, his hand fisted your dog tags so hard his bloodied knuckles stung, but he cuts it soon with a sigh. Reyes rolled his shoulders lighting up a cig heading to the exit when suddenly someone grabbed him by the shoulder and shoved him against the brick wall dropping the cig with the harsh impact on his back. Team Leader.
"TL! And then I thought you'd miss all the fun. Weren't you in a meeting?"
"What the HELL happened in there, Reyes!?"
"I solved all our problems, that's what happened." Reyes said with not a single ounce of regret.
This was the last straw. TL punched Reyes on his stomach making the operator fold forwards with a loud cough as he fought not to vomit his breakfast. Team Leader looked down at him with disappointed but very notable pain and desperation. He finally caught the bastard, SpecGru finally had the chance to track your body so they could accomplish the mission that remained paused, but Enzo had to mess everything up like always. He was an uncontrolled animal that only stayed alive because god had condemned a crueler fate for him, to live in grief. Reyes was a soldier so driven by his negative emotions he'd end up dragging all of you to hell with him, and that is something TL feared as he knew that the only person who could tame the beast within him was you. And you were laying dead somewhere.
"Tell me how we are going to find her now. TELL ME!" Screamed the older man, his booming voice never affecting the already broken operator.
TL's paternal instincts over you were strong, they were so strong that unlike Reyes and most of the others, he couldn't bare to watch the tapes of your torture and the audios from the torturers confirming your death. Instead, he confided in Laswell to pretty much give him the most important details and help with your disappearance however she could. Both men were very important to you, a father figure and a love interest, and their aching hearts at your loss roared louder than ever as suddenly Kate Laswell's head popped in from the exit, the alarm in her eyes speaking a thousand words that vented from her mouth in one single sentence.
"She's been spotted at the gates of the base."
Everything was a blur then. Reyes ran for his life almost knocking the poor woman in the middle of his sprint and dropping his pack of cigarettes to the floor.
______
How in god's name you managed to walk so many miles from where they had kept you to the base was beyond them. They said you carried a superhuman strength with a remarkable will to live because at the sight of you, all of your teammates and even TL (against his own paternal love for you) could only think death was the best option for you, a mercy even.
Was it a blessing or a curse that you were still alive and breathing? Reyes pondered over this when he managed to push pass the crowd of people surrounding your bed at the infirmary only to be kicked out of the room by TL and the other nurses.
Your feet were covered in blisters, one of your arms was broken, you had multiple scratches and grime covering your skin and torn uniform, a split lip, a bleeding eye from a vertical cut that went from your hairline to your higher cheek (an eye you'll end up losing, sadly), suffered a grave head trauma, all of your nails from your feet to your hands were missing, a shot-through leg and you were showing signs of strong anxiety at the feeling of many eyes on you, that's why TL had cleared the room before you could speak to him privately about what happened since you were in no condition to write a full report, he wrote it for you as he listened and waited for you to finish so he could ask his own questions and express his obvious worry.
Even after the nightmare you had endured you chose to live and complete the mission alone. You kept loyal to SpecGru even when they had left you behind during the retreat, you didn't feel a speck of betrayal and your TL couldn't be more prouder and guilty, his admiration and respect for you earned you a raise and you were soon promoted. You used the little strength you had left to explain your story in full detail before you collapsed, this is the info TL had collected:
After they tortured and threw you to a lake in the middle of nowhere because you wouldn't talk and your team was taking far longer than they had liked to come get you, you woke up when some fishermen dragged your body away from the shore. Once him and his family had healed some of your wounds, you forced yourself to return where you came from and managed to recover the Intel SpecGru considered lost, later infiltrated and rescued the civilians and the other operators who got captured and tortured finding them a provisional hideout until they could contact anyone from outside the village, you left the morning after and exploded the factory the enemy used for their suppliers to deploy their weapons and ammunition, uncovered their contacts and said suppliers by hacking on their database before you scaped the enemy's territory and found a way to contact the CIA when you were leaving the village as the others had already found SpecGru's rescue team. Sadly they had already parted to the base and simply couldn't return to get you because of the fatal wounds all of the hostages had suffered, they couldn't trade over eleven lives for just one lost soldier. (Of course no one told Reyes about this or hell would have broken lose.) Being left behind again, you stole an enemy vehicle and drove until it ran out of gas, managed to sneak inside a trash truck and got off to walk all the way from one city to the base. All of this carrying a heavy bag filled with Intel and other important stuff, a half melted revolver, a shit ton of ammunition, one improvised knife and a grenade you explained you'd have used as a last resort to explode yourself with the important documents and information about SpecGru if the enemy managed to find you again.
You passed out two days ago and the word spread around base about your incredible accomplishments and your well-deserved promotion. Reyes easily snook inside your room by the window and kept sneaking in for two more days until TL officially allowed him the entry after getting a worried call from the doc. Enzo kept close watch on you and didn't allow anyone in but the nurse. He could do nothing but stare at you as if you were a painting displayed in a museum, untouchable and beautiful, his darling lay there all wrapped in bandages, your cheerful, teasing expression was a mere echo as your swollen face and puffy split lip showed nothing but exhaustion, you were unrecognizable. You didn't look like yourself and he blamed himself every day for it, but at least he could touch you, at least you were breathing and that's all that mattered.
It's the fifth day and Reyes has to leave for a few weeks to another fucking mission when he hasn't even fully recovered psychologically from what happened in the Turquoise operation.
Before he left, instead of giving you your dog tags back, he gave you his own placing them on the table next to you. As expected by doc, you woke up one day later after Reyes' departure (The luck on this guy...) And girl, you were in so much pain. But it was the comfort you received by waking up to the blinding reflection of the window's light hitting the dog tags that after close inspection you found they belonged to Reyes, what made the pain worth it. The pain of being alive. The sweet ache of getting one more chance to be with Reyes. Reyes...
"R-Reyes..." You whimper out.
"Holy fuck." Nova exclaimed startling you a bit. "Oh shit!" She cursed stumbling from her chair before she properly stood up "BOLLOCKS!" She yells this time making you squint and flinch at the squawking sound of her voice. She gave you a half-assed apology before she ran out of the room to call for the doctor.
______
The following week was nuts. Adapting to having one eye and trying to recover from the bullet wound from your thigh, fractured arm and other pains all across your body was difficult, but you made progress every day.
At first you couldn't quite get used to seeing all the fresh new scars on your body and your aim had worsened now that you had one eye but to everyone's surprise you still pressed on trying to recover your sore senses and exercise daily eager to get back to action. More than once your doctor, TL and Nova had to remind you not to overdo it, as training excessively could only make you backtrack on all the healing and progress you worked so hard on making.
You were an inspiration to many and you wouldn't shy away from cheering the rookies and answer some questions so long they didn't ask you to describe in detail the tortures you had endured. Nova was wary though, always keeping a close eye on you and reminding you to send a message to the boys (Gus and Reyes) whenever you could in your group chat as they were still worried sick, specially Reyes.
"This guy..." You muttered to yourself.
You and Nova were on cleaning duty when you stopped a few minutes ago to send a quick text to keep tabs on the boys as they were returning from a certain base in Rome they were assigned to go to do god-knows-what about the Turquoise operation. The trip had prolonged and you missed them dearly.
"What's up?" Nova asked behind her shoulder as she was finishing mopping the floor near the door.
"Nah, Gus told me they're alright... It's just Reyes he's so..."
"No-? I mean yeah, that's Reyes!" You chuckle flicking her messy bun. "It's just..." You sigh. "He's not talkin' to me... And I don't know why. Well, i get that he gets all serious while he's working, we all do, but he has never left me on read."
Nova arched a brow at that while gathering your cleaning stuff and walking out with you by her side. You continue. "He actually never did until now, be jealous all you like."
"I ain't jealous, gurl. Pity on you he actually replies to anything you say, he's an a-hole." Even if Nova and Reyes bicker a lot you know how much they love each other dearly, like two siblings bounded by the blood they spill in battle and not by DNA.
A few minutes later, you two walked to the barracks where you showed her the messages you have been sending Reyes since the day after you woke up. They weren't that deep or long (that's what she said) so you didn't fear she'd find out about your crush on your mutual friend so long she didn't scroll up.
Nila sighs when she's done reading and sits you on her bunk bed with a somber look. "Oh boy, I know that look." You mock trying to lighten up the mood a bit but she isn't affected.
"(Y/n). You didn't do anything wrong. We didn't talk much about what happened when you woke up for obvious reasons, the boys left and you were still fresh from the trauma n' shit, not to mention that this week you were still resting or busy with rehab so we didn't find the right time..."
"What are you on about Nils? It's no biggie-"
"No biggie!?" She snaps and your eyes widen. "We left you behind not once but twice! You suffered alone and we could do nothing but pray that the rescue team had any luck finding you because Team Leader didn't let us volunteer thinking feelings would get in the way and we'd cause more casualties, fuck! We even thought you were dead-!" She cried the last part with a very noticeable knot on her throat, she was shaking, her face darkened by grief, frustration and regret. You wrapped your friend in a hug she quickly returned with a sob, your eye patch felt cold against her heating skin, Nila shivered, another reminder of what she just said.
To be honest you had assumed they considered you dead, but you didn't have much time to ponder on how that would affect your friends... Your Reyes... Or even Team Leader who went far and beyond to find you and leave your friends out of the terrible mission of finding your corpse. The guilt they must have felt for leaving you behind twice, by total accident of course, and Nova's fat tears were enough proof that said guilt still plagued them until today.
Nova cleared her throat moving backwards a little while cleaning her tear stained face. "Reyes can't speak to you. Not because he doesn't want to-"
"I know. I see..." You could only imagine how Enzo felt.
And with that, you two heard Humvees approaching the main building, a cloud of sand and dust followed their trail until they parked the vehicles and soon, you could spot the shape of Rodriguez and Reyes angrily speaking to one another. Gus' expressive body language picked more exaggeration pushing Reyes to respond in kind but more violently poking a finger to the Rican's chest and snarling words you couldn't quite comprehend from the distance between the barrack's windows and the parking lot.
"Jesus... Weren't they supposed to arrive in like, another few days?"
But Nova said this to no one as you had already left to join the other men.
To say your presence was imposing to your battle mates was an understatement, though the teasing grin you carried that was so characteristic of you made everyone lit up a bit seeing as you haven't lost yourself in what happened and despite the promotion shit, the fresh scars and eye patch, (Y/n) was still (Y/n).
"What? Did y'all get needy being apart from mommy for so long? Is that's why you had to cut the mission short?" The men around you laughed and greeted you with wide smiles and gentle pats but a certain someone didn't like that comment one bit. And that certain someone punched the brick wall next to the parking spot so hard that he grunted in pain, Gus sighed shaking his head and you turned to where he was looking judging by his reaction.
When Reyes and you made eye contact, he froze. His mouth went agape, his left hand was gripping his right one that bled through the gloves he was wearing, his eyes went from your eye patch to the scars on your neck down your chest and legs and finally back to your face. It was like he was seeing a ghost. But Gus broke the moment giving you a strong bear hug from behind, you couldn't help but chuckle out loud turning around and hugging him just as strongly but mindful of your sore wounds.
"Mi cielo... Me tenías tan preocupado." (My sky... You got me so worried.) The big man whined burying his face on your neck, his moustache tickled you and you scratched his curly hair humming comfortingly. "Hello to you too, osito."
He moved his head back a little inspecting your face. "An eye patch huh? You look like a pirate!"
"Hmm, 'Pirate'... That's another name to the list. Gotta think of a proper codename soon or I fear y'all will end up choosing one for me."
"Oh, so the new rank comes with a new codename? Should I also call you ma'am." You smirked at him pinching his nose and he squinted with a complain "Ow, hey! My snot-" Gus' hands shot out ready to tackle you until you moved out of his grasp to where Reyes previously was but the Canadian was already gone. Gus reads your surprise and disappointment quickly.
"He probably headed to the doc's to get new stitches again..."
"Again?" You repeated, and Rodriguez's face said it all, his moustache quirking to the side with a grimace.
He's been having anger attacks...
"The gremlin needs you." Nova suddenly said behind you spooking you a bit but you recovered and nodded quickly to which Gus replied "He dropped his pills, he'll have to come get them soon for his headaches and his back pain, it's almost five o'clock..." When he finished he shook the bottled pills to make a point.
Nova smirks "See? He's like a gremlin, he comes with instructions and everything, the fucker."
______
It didn't take long for your group of three to find Reyes.
Gus said he'd be at the doctor's office but it was Nova with her "asshole radar" who got his exact location right: the small rocky trail between the bushes of the gates where they had found you and the brick wall next to the ammunition storage facilities. (She knew he'd be there because after you passed out of exhaustion when you arrived, he used to sit there looking at the spot where they saw you as if looking at it long enough would erase the memory of seeing you laying there half-dead.)
Of course, Nova fled before confronting an irritable Reyes as she knew they'd end up falling into an endless screaming match with you and Rodriguez trying to calm both parties. So that led to you and Gus to walk out of the building with a half-assed excuse of keeping watch on the gates.
When you approached Reyes' figure near the bushes, Gus told you to wait so he'd try to ready Reyes to speak to you for the first time in what felt like a lifetime. You understood quickly and stood out of sight.
It felt like an hour had passed, your eye switched between the courtyard to the gates from time to time, always watchful that you guys wouldn't get caught and an earful from any superior out there. That if you haven't been spotted already, because this area was well watched as it was right behind the armory and the fear of the now neutralized organization resurging from the ashes to avenge their fallen leader was still palpable amongst your comrades.
A whistle reached your ears, Gus was calling you from the thin trail and you followed. Just when you neared their spot you picked Reyes' agitated voice bitching at Rodriguez before he shut up compleatly when he heard your footsteps.
“Gus, go find your nuts they’re probably hidden beneath your twat, and fuck off,” Reyes spat lastly, head thrown back as he winces huffing a curse down his breath when he sees you approaching with a soft expression.
"Always a gentleman, hermano. Next time, don't come crying to me when i refuse to aid you in any fucking discussion and/or cure your wounds, torpe llorón..." (Clumsy crybaby) Gus bites back, he gives you a patient look as to say "he's your problem now." And you nod him goodbye but Gus surprises you when he throws the little plastic container of pills to Reyes' feet where the man was sitting on the dirt, his back against the brick wall staring daggers at the other operator.
"Make sure he takes them if you hear him whining, amor." Gus says before pursing his lips twice throwing two kisses your way and leaving the trail as a final goodbye.
Reyes gives you a side glance you don't catch because of your blind eye but you can feel it. When you turn to him he's looking elsewhere suddenly quiet. You smirk, kneel to his level and squeeze his tense shoulder.
"You know, I've gained a few new nicknames around base, and It took me a long while to choose witch one would make a cool codename. They were all so edgy."
He remained quiet brushing your hand off with a firm shake on his shoulder, the only clue you got that he was listening was his heavy breathing.
"While waitin' for you two to stop your bickering I finally decided Turquoise smoke or Smoke for shorts. Fittin' right? That's obviously because they couldn't grasp me again when I fled." The look Reyes gives you as in incredulous but tired of your bullshit makes you chuckle. His hand raises to scratch his beard harshly enough to make angry red lines on his pale skin.
"Talk to me..." You speak lowly seeking to ease the tension, coaxing the man to open up like you've done a thousand times before. And yet, the Reyes before you doesn't seem as cooperative as you knew him to be.
"I've always hated you." He sighs and this makes your smile falter. Over the thousand terrible things he had said in your presence, he has never said anything like this and the fact that it's directed to you feels like a stab. His eyes are on yours or rather on YOUR, to be real, as he looks at your eye patch he sneers in disgust and this makes you raise up from your crouching position.
"When you came to my life you quickly became a big pain in my ass. Always fucking loud, always fucking witty... Playing girly pop on a man's job."
He was just being mean, Reyes' cruelty was a defense mechanism you were used to eating up. It never bothered you in the slightest as you knew he didn't really mean what he said but he could spit some powerful venom whenever he wanted.
"The day you started makin' a name for yourself I became less liked. I stopped getting calls from any of our team leaders and people stopped takin' me that seriously. Must be cool right?" Enzo smiles cruelly up at you, his gloveless hands (now wrapped in bandages) played with the bottled pills. "To be TL's bitch. Reyes' tamer, huh? Must be fuckin' brilliant." At the end of the sentence, he harshly threw the pills somewhere on the trail where you came from.
"Reyes..." You chocked out.
He stands up abruptly then making you step back, his oak eyes look down at you in an intimidating way. "Did you also get a delicious raise for having to tame SpecGru's disgrace? I'm sure you did. Now you can parade around with all those awesome battle scars, a new rank and that ridiculous pirate eye patch like you are Nick Fury or some clown like that."
You try to recover your wit firmly believing your awful humour could bring him back to his senses "Hey, hey, show some respect to Nick Fury, man. At least i look stylish, I'm not the one who wears sunglasses over the head and never uses them." You feign offense and accuse him desperately trying not to take any of this seriously.
Enzo was about to yell something colorful but instead bit down his lip with a forced smile shaking his head before he growled lowly "Always so funny, you..." He honest to God looked like he was holding a fart but you knew if you voiced your thoughts he'd end up strangling you on the spot.
"I should kill you right now. Finish what they started." He said approaching you with newfound determination and this made you physically backtrack until your back was against the fence and he was a few millimeters from your face raising his hands to grip on the metallic wires of the fence by your sides effectively caging you. He could see the pain then. How that last whip mentioning those bastards actually did hurt you. Enzo waited a few seconds for you to say something, anything, but you were looking up at him silent, with a forced little smile trying to hide that for once, he did crack you, all the playfulness had abandoned you as you faced the man you loved stabbing you with his words.
As stupid as it is, as hypocrite as he felt, it pained him to hurt you, all in all it was the truth and it was clear when his hardened face didn't hold his frown for one more second as it melted into a sorrowful grimace, a loud sob scaped his lips, a tear hit your cheek as Reyes broke down quite literally when his body shagged downwards, his hands still gripped firmly at the fence holding his stance.
You could feel a terrible burn from your right eye and when tears begun gathering on your left one you knew the nature of the burn came from the flowing tears your damaged orb tried to shed but it wasn't as strange as seeing Reyes cry, though you couldn't see him properly because he hanged his head low at the height of your chest as to hide his pain. The only time you saw him cry was when Nova was so mad at him she shoved wax sticks up his nosetrils while he was napping, when he angrily tried to pull them off he cried like he had witnessed his entire family get killed. But this is obviously different.
These weren't tears coming from an idiotic prank. These tears came from heartbreak and loss.
Enzo's wavering voice came raspy as he fought and failed to contain the grief he had tried to hold in for so fucking long. "You keep joking and pretending nothing happend." He wept. "I can't stand a second having to look at you and see how they mangled your body..." Then your eye widened as Reyes stood up properly forcing himself to look at you directly. His lips wobble trying to continue, the vulnerability written on his face was making the flow of your tears quicken and you hissed in discomfort, a palm shooting up to your eye patch and Reyes didn't waste a minute reacting to your obvious pain. Suddenly all the hatred he wanted to express left him as he cooed at you trying to sooth the ache anyhow, his hands cupped your wet cheeks, thumbs gently brushing your skin and he opted to hold you close to his body when he felt useless that he couldn't make the pain go away.
"Don't say that-" You choked out through the pain.
Reyes looked down at you startled by the emotional tone in your voice and you shook against his chest meeting his stare. "Do you have any idea how many times I thought I'd die? The desperation I felt when I was left behind not once but twice!? How I could only think about your mean ass every minute of every day as I pulled through the mission ALONE to return, fall on a few day's coma and find out you were gone again... And now that I get to finally see you, with all my heartache, my fucking love for you and my stupid humour trying desperately to sooth you because, trust me, I know you had suffered, Nova and Gus told me because you still keep to yourself. You have the gal to wish I was dead!?"
"NEVER IN MY FUCKING LIFE!" He screamed and you were now fully surprised no one had caught you two yet.
Reyes lowers his head down, his hands cupping your cheeks still, eyes staring between your eye and the eye patch. "I wanted to die so bad..." He cries "To leave this shitty life praying to meet you in the next one..." You bit your lower lip and closed your eye trying to cease your crying as it was irritating your wounded eye and the few scars on your face.
"I love you, woman." It was the desperation in which the words were thrown in the heavy air that made your eye flutter back open, your shaky hands rose to hold his face and beg that, just by the look you were giving Reyes, he understood that you felt the same because you couldn't speak.
"If you were to leave me again I-" But he caught himself before he let out another pitiful tear. He felt too weak, and as much as he loves feeling weak for you, he couldn't keep letting you see him cry as your sympathy got the best of you and would make you keep crying as well hurting your wounds further with your salty tears.
"They'll have to do worse than that in order to keep me from you Enzo..." When you said this he lowered his eyes to your neck quickly spotting his dog tags, one hand quickly picked yours from under his shirt absentmindedly.
"I'll dig out your fucking body from wherever they burry you if I must to take these back." He said lowly. "Until then, keep 'em."
"I've always imagined a wedding band but these will suffice~" You purred and Reyes smiled, his sad eyes still present.
The smile and the following kiss was enough to seal the promise that no matter what. From this day on. You two were a pack.
"Give me some time, Smokey. Weddin' bands can be annoying to wear in battle and the one I planned to get ya isn't cheap."
