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halcyone-of-the-sea · 11 months

Note

So request kinda if not just sharing my thoughts in general.

Alex. My boy. What if reader is a civ or even another soldier in a different squad and the whole thing with him joining Farah’s forces indefinitely. I think this can really lend itself to some angst and that good old misunderstanding. Kinda leaning towards civ!reader just because the more miscommunication. I guess it’d have to be an angsty ending though 😳, but regardless-

Love your writing and, as always, feel free to change anything or do whatever gives you the most inspiration

World Caves In

PAIRING: Alex Keller x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: Perhaps it would have been better if your husband had died - at the very least you could understand that.

WORD COUNT: 7.9k

WARNINGS: Angst, misunderstandings/miscommunication, hurt/comfort, vulgar language, abandonment?, Alex being an adorable husband, fluff, etc.

A/N: I was gonna make this an angsty ending but I got my period and thinking about that made me cry so here we are, lmao. Enjoy, Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

When you’d been escorted out of work by two uniformed men, you knew the news wasn’t going to be good. Sitting in the back of a large black car, you spare nervous glances as the vehicle jumps, its wheels going over the last speed bump. Your work building begins to become a fraction of a memory and disappears faster than your resolve.

The men sit on either side of you, silent, and the only comment is to the driver as you all enter the main road. Swallowing, you part your lips and mutter, plain dread in your tone, “Is he alive?”

All you get is a glance from the front mirror and nothing more. You hunch more in your seat and stew in agony, mind far off on the topic of your husband.

Alex wasn’t overly reckless, you’d managed to snuff most of that out over the course of the many years you’d expressed concern to him about it, but a large chuck of the blond was still too selfless for his own good. It was hard not to think the worst.

From training to advising, your husband was always off on one mission to another, far from your quaint and quiet home here—where you waited day after day for even a sliver of contact from him. Alex specialized in so many things that trying to wrap your head around it was impossible.

Even now, you only knew the bare minimum.

The soft-smiled man worked in the SAD division of the CIA. He’s an Operations Officer. Currently, he’s somewhere across the globe.

Away from you.

Thinning your lips, you take down a deep breath and settle back into the seat, pulse flying. The men were obviously Agents—you’d looked closely at their badges when they’d first shown their faces at the front desk and had kept within view of your work’s security cameras just in case this was a ruse. When you could find nothing out of the ordinary, you had tensely asked them what was happening.

They would be holding his dog tags if he was dead, you had reasoned, desperately, a flag.

It was frantic, the way you had thought that up; how could you not be like that? Alex was the light of your life! With him constantly putting his life on the line, it was inevitable for him to get hurt, sometimes seriously. It was ingrained into your mind the way you would help clean his wounds in the middle of the night when the pain woke him up with a grunt stuck in his throat. The way you would sit half-asleep in his lap and re-wrap bandages while he told you to go back to bed half-heartedly. His hands drifting over your warm skin like he was cascading his fingers up and down the spine of an old book.

You never listened.

“It’s late, Bug, I can’t keep you up like this.” His drawl echoes in your ear as you rub a heavy palm into your eye. Alex’s hands are both on your hips, squeezing the flesh just below your tiny sleep shorts. You have him sitting on the floor, back resting on the wall and shirt discarded to the side only wearing loose gray sweatpants. A long cut up his left pec is the center of your blurry attention—a wet rag held as you dab at it. Blue eyes narrow at you. “I’m just fine with doing it myself, y’know.”

“You’re being stubborn again,” you utter, the soft light of the bathroom placed at half-capacity to at least try and keep some of the veil of sleep over your heads. “I told you to wake me up when you needed it cleaned.” Your skin brushes his and Alex shivers under you, sighing breathily. “And you’re not keeping me here—I’m helping.”

A small flash of that full smile, mustache flinching up, “Well when you look so pretty sleepin’ I can’t just shake you awake and tell you to fix me up.”

You take your free hand and pinch his nose, yawning as he grunts out chuckles. A delicate glance is thrown his way as the rag lowers from reddened skin. Like a butterfly's whisper, you study his face gently; reaching and cupping his cheek with your palm.

Alex’s lids flutter, heavy weight falling into you as if waiting for this—lips pressing to your inner wrist in reverence. You hold back a tired giggle and feel the corner of his mouth pull up when he feels it.

“All that talk, and yet,” pressing a smooch to his forehead you take your hand back and hear the grumble he lets out after, “you still like it better when I’m the one that’s working on you.”

“Can’t complain too much,” he admits slowly as his head leans back to tap the wall, “my wife’s hands are way softer than mine.”

Alex’s grip on your flesh tightens when you sipe away the last line of crimson from the wound, tattooed arms flexing.

“Sorry,” you whisper, watching his eyes slightly awash with pain. “Got caught on a stitch.”

“Ah, well,” the blond sighs, shifting “I suppose I can forgive you.”

Laughing quietly as the house settles, you shake your head and rest your forehead on his.

“Such a saint,” your lips utter teasingly as Alex smiles wide, his hands moving higher to your waist. You lean into him, stealing his warmth as your tired eyes flutter; feeling his thumbs run circles over the flesh of your lower spine.

A content breath escapes you.

“Go back to bed, Sweetheart,” Alex whispers, lips brushing yours like silk, the bristles of his facial hair tickling you. “I can do the rest, promise.”

“Know you can,” your mutterings are barely heard, but the man seems to register them, sea-glass gaze incredibly soft. He chuckles at your sleepiness, one hand leaving your waist to capture the back of your head; weaving into your hair and gently massaging your scalp. You practically melt into him, limbs going slack, slurring out, “Quit it. Wanna help, Alex.”

His laughter shakes you, and with a huff escaping, you bury your burning face into his neck and lean into him, careful of his wound even in your fatigued state.

“No offense, Bug,” Alex shifts, grunting as he easily maneuvers you until you’re laying in his arms, inked forearms under your knees and behind your shoulders with vivid images of grim reapers, snakes, and angels guarding you close. A kiss is firmly pressed to your forehead as the blonde smirks downwards, “But you’re about as helpful to me right now as an empty mag.”

You grumble, trying to disappear into his skin and letting him dig his stubble into your cheek.

“If you bring me back to bed before you’re done,” you yawn and close your eyes, “I’m divorcing you.”

He laughs deeply into your ear, body shaking as he pulls back and sends you an incredulous look.

“Hell, we can’t have that, can we, Mrs. Keller? I’d lose my damn mind.”

It’s a long drive, and you worry through the entirety of it. A primal, whole-body-shaking type of fear. You’d built a life with Alex and loved him more than anything or anyone that had come before. Even if he was gone a lot, that had never dulled what the two of you had—your marriage was nothing short of something you would find in a fairy tale; flashing pictures on pages with vivid colors and tender glances. The very cover itself is made of the finest leather and inlaid with gold calligraphy.

Please, Alex, you plead in your head as you remember his loving gaze—his back as he makes supper in the kitchen and hums to himself. Please be okay.

The men hold open the car door when it comes to a stop outside a very obviously abandoned apartment complex near the outskirts of town. You get out quickly. Looking around, you take in the overgrown grass and the broken concrete with a knife in your lung; holding back the flood of anxious tears.

Though, confusion takes president.

“Where did you…?” You turn to look at the Agents, but they’re already clambering back into their car and snapping the doors shut. Wide-eyed and slack-jawed you watch them speed off as a cloud of dust drifts into the air.

Pulse echoing in your ears, you watch the vehicle speed down the road and disappear.

Swallowing, you whisper, “What the actual fuck?” Turning in circles, no one else is around. A part of you starts to worry less for Alex and more for yourself.

They were CIA, you reiterate, I checked their badges—Alex showed me the standard ones. Could I have missed something?

Expression nervous, you shift on your feet before your stuttering legs take you closer to the abandoned building, not really seeing much choice here. You could imagine the scene from The Wizard Of Oz—when the man pulls back the curtain and all is revealed.

That said, you could really only hope that was what was actually happening to you and you weren't getting kidnapped or shot. Taking a deep breath, you clench your fists and enter the building through the open front door.

It was in the wide lobby that you locked eyes with Kate Laswell. You blank, mouth parting as the scent of concrete and decaying furniture get stuck in your nose.

The woman seems highly agitated, brows tight and jaw clenched. Her white blouse had been flattened multiple times by rough hands, lanyard swaying on her neck like Alex’s dog tags would. She holds a file in her hands; the paper bulky as if holding something more than just paper inside its manila clutches.

“Kate?” You ask, confused, “What are you doing here? What’s all of this about?” Taking quick steps forward you splay your hands as your voice grows more serious. “Where’s my damn husband?”

You didn’t know Laswell personally, in fact, when you had first got a glimpse of her here, you’d forgotten the older woman’s name for a moment. The first meeting between the two of you had been at a CIA get-together that Alex had been forced to go to because of his position—some celebration because a group of ICBMs had been taken back into US hands after being stolen. Your husband had introduced you to the Station Chief over a drink with a hand on the small of your back.

But it didn’t stop you now from talking to her like you’d known her for years. Not when fear was flooding your veins.

“What the hell is going on?” You say harshly, glancing around the room for any sight of someone else here.

Kate sighs heavily but wastes no time in speaking, her professional tone and serious face leaving your already fast-paced heart racing.

“Alex isn’t coming back to the United States.” Your eyes blank, staring into icy blue. She holds out her manila folder, jaw tight. Blunt. “He’s a deserter.”

It’s like your entire being halts; your skin suit feels as if it’s sagging on your bones with the weight of a cinder block connected by hooks to the floor.

What did she just say?

Opening and closing your mouth you stutter, lids blinking rapidly.

“I…” Fingers flinching in the air, an exhalation from your nose sounds more like a wheeze. Kate watches stiffly, taking a look at the floor before returning her attention to you; emotion flashes in her eyes. “...W-what?”

“Keller deserted his post—I tried to speak with the Colonel but there’s only so much I can do.” Laswell takes a deep breath as you continue to go through shock. Alex wasn’t coming home? How, why? “He’s staying in Urzikstan to fight with the Liberation Force.”

“Urzikstan?!” You gape, but the woman continues.

“For all intents and purposes, I shouldn’t be here, but Alex asked me personally to hand these to you.” Again the manilla folder is shown to you, but when you only glare and fight the fear and confusion rampaging in your gut a sigh echoes out and it’s placed on a termite-eaten side table. “Even communicating with you could put you in danger now that he’s gotten on the bad side of the entire SAD and CIA branches. This is all I can do.”

“What the fuck,” you whisper to yourself, hand coming up to capture your mouth.

“If Alex re-enters the states—he’ll be arrested and tried in a court of law. If he’s not shot on sight for what he knows.” Kate watches you closely, shaking her head in pity. “I’m sorry,” there’s a strained pause, “but he’s made his decision.”

As she brushes past you, leaving the folder on the side table, you feel your wide eyes well with tears—confused and horrified. But he’s coming back to me, right? Alex…Alex wouldn’t leave me here alone.

It was common knowledge that over the last years the blond had gotten more agitated at his line of work; the orders that he didn’t want to follow but had no choice. No voice. But he can’t just abandon you...could he? You’d taken vows. Had a happy marriage and relationship. Loved each other.

He can’t just…he can’t…

Your hands shake and you’re unable to stop them, gaze locked on that unassuming manilla folder. Kate pauses in the doorway, peeking back and seeing your sickly-looking face, the agony written in the lines of your forehead. Like the picture of a loyal wife being told her husband was never coming home. And Alex wasn’t even dead. Resentment begins to burn.

But he made his bed.

“He told me to tell you that he wouldn’t be angry if you wanted to leave him,” was all she said, a final knife being stabbed into your heart and being ripped out like a live wire. Electricity makes your back go stiff in an instant. “It would be best to never tell anyone that we met.”

You were alone, full body shivers and bile stuck in the back of your throat. Cold sweat coats your palms, a sticky mess of your barebones disturbance.

“He…” your voice is hoarse, bouncing off the far walls. “Alex left me here? He left me.”

It was easier to say that the sun had exploded and you were waiting for the last beam of light to incinerate you. Inside of your skull your brain pounds as, in a mad dash of desperation, you rush to the manilla folder and rip it open with vibrating arms.

Having Laswell tell you that Alex wouldn’t be mad if you…if you…the hairs on the back of your neck rise and suddenly you’re angry beyond a sliver of a doubt. It was insulting.

“Alex fucking Keller,” the paper opens to the bulk of your husband's dog tags and a flip phone—reports like his own personal file and the patch that he had once worn so proudly on his combat vest. Red, white, and blue dig into your retinas; it was old, worn beyond measure, but that little patch was something that was never removed. Not even to be cleaned.

“The dirtier it is,” Alex had commented on the American flag patch when you’d offered to mend it for him, cringing at all the blood stains and dirt flecking off it as he slipped his vest off in the foyer of your home. “The luckier I am.”

“I think the stench of it alone will frighten off anyone who comes near,” you had raised a brow, smirking up at him as he walked over, laughing. A kiss is placed on your lips, Alex’s bright smile transferring over to you as if able to spread from his mouth to yours that simply. You sigh dreamily.

He pulls back with a tiny wink as you gaze up at him, cheekily stating, “That’s the plan, Sweet Thing. Gotta make sure I come home to you in one piece.”

You brush your hands over it and think that maybe it would have been better if he had died. Then you could understand why he’s doing this to you. Anger spreads into rage.

Looking next at the phone and dog tags, all you do is shake your head and slam the folder shut, bitter tears tracking your face. You can’t read anything—can’t see his name imprinted on that metal that used to press coldly into your skin as you both slept in bed. You don’t care about the phone or the files.

None of it mattered.

“He fucking left me here,” it’s like you’re a broken record replaying over and over again. “You absolute bastard, Keller!” Yelling, you press your fingers into your face, hands spreading over your eyes and mouth to muffle your enraged sobs.

“You’re still alive and you left me alone.”

Only the abandoned building echoes your pain; replaying it back over and over again as your wails echo around the lobby like a symphony of laughing jesters.

—

The phone that Laswell had given you had been going off at least three times every day—morning, noon, and at night. You had stared at it with fury, knowing exactly who was calling even if the thing was displaying an unknown number. By now you had steeped in your anger enough that you had found yourself snapping at friends and family alike when asked if you were alright.

You wished Alex was here so you could hit him upside the head for being so stupid. So you could hate him until you had the pleasure to love him again.

Urzikstan.

You’d looked up the country after you had spent two days straight in bed, afterward manically cleaning the house with a glare that could light fires. The far-off place was a land utterly divided by war. Russian occupation, a terrorist group; the force that your husband had joined. Mass against mass against mass.

Brick meets wall.

And Alex had chosen to stay—without a doubt because he’d seen the dire situation and had used that damnable good heart of his to empathize to the max. Forget donations, humanitarian work, or anything else, the man had fucking decided to join in a Liberation Force.

As much as you wanted to say you hated him; had wanted to slam your gold wedding band to the table with a good riddance for betraying you like that…you still had his dog tags around your neck, and the ring was still on your finger.

“Too good for his own sake,” you grumble, shoving dirty clothes into the washer like they had tried to attack you. “Deserted the fucking CIA, Jesus Alex. Do you even think when I’m not around?”

There were only so many times you could curse his name until you felt a deceiving needle of pride slither itself into your skull. You could describe Alex as many things but he would always be steadfast in causes that truly needed his help. He often told you that the best missions were the ones where he could do so much more than take out a target—he strived to help the individuals he met. Form bonds.

God forbid something came in between the blond and the ones he’d chosen to give his loyalty to.

You slam the washer shut and stomp into the living room after starting another cycle. Stress cleaning was really not a good look on you—the entire house was without a single spec of dust but you yourself felt like you’d run seven marathons. Clenching your teeth, you go and drop to the couch, a grunt falling from your lips as your head hits the pillow.

Staring at the ceiling, you finally take in the utter silence of the house—not a home, because it could only be that if Alex was here—with a pained crease forming on your brow. The pipes spit water, and the washer grunted its mechanical garble…but there was no humming man making food in the kitchen. No blond hair visible as a head rests on your chest; your fingers playing in the locks that act like silk as you part them, the man on top of you purring. Body a weighted blanket.

“Was it really that easy,” you whisper to nothing, lip quivering. “Was it really that easy to stay away, Alex? I thought…I…”

Eyes wrenching shut, you hear the phone right at noon again as it sits on the coffee table. And you let it.

There were voicemails, no doubt, but you hadn’t thought to listen to those either. This small act of rebellion was all you could act on but for the simple fact that it also harmed you. Barbed wire steadily digging deeper as it kept your hands wound to your sides—neck plastered to the pillow as bright silver spikes glinted. You stare at the unknown caller who really wasn’t all that unknown and watch the screen light, vibrating over the wood in steady intervals.

What hurt the most was that if he’d asked you to come along—become an Expat just for him—you would have said yes. You could find a new job, a new place to call home. Humanitarian work would have been at the top of your list and Alex…well….he would still be fighting, just as he always had.

But at the very least you would have been there to clean his wounds. Together. You’d both promised on that altar to do nothing less. He could’ve asked. He should have asked.

Alex…

“Urzikstan,” you mutter for what seems like the fiftieth time. When the ringing stops a few moments later the new voicemail icon flashes. Placing your arm over your mouth, you clench your hand so tight it starts to shake, whispering into your skin, “Fine. I guess you did make your bed. And…and I won't be there to lie in it with you.” No matter how much I want to.

You slip the wedding band off of your finger and place it beside the phone before turning and burying your head into the cushions; feeling more numb than you ever had before.

—

It carried on like this for three months. The ring didn’t move from the coffee table and neither did the flip phone; the file had all but been tossed in the trash as it sat teetering on the living room desk. You carried on as well as you could, all things considered.

Work was a blur, going out with friends even harder to enjoy, and any enjoyment of hobbies or activities was dulled to an almost gray existence. Like a ghost, you wafted through experiences with dog tags and a withering appearance. Eventually, you just stopped going out unless it couldn’t be helped. You still bought meals for two at the grocery store out of habit. You placed blankets where Alex used to sleep beside you. You went to work.

And still, the calls never stopped except for a brief pause after the first month. You’d thought he’d finally given up, but no. Back at it.

It had gotten to a point now where the device was automatically deleting all recent voicemails—too little space in the inbox.

Angry curiosity was tempting you. It would be easy, you reason, to simply play the first message and listen. The worst part of it was that you’d begun to forget Alex’s voice and perhaps that was why, on that dead-aired Saturday, you snatched the phone and brought it into the kitchen.

Firmly planting it on the counter, you stand behind one of the island chairs and glare, hands tapping into the wood.

“I’m giving you three minutes, Alex,” you speak as if he’s still here, as if his form stands right behind you, head tilted like a damn dog with that infectious smile and those sea-glass eyes. “Three minutes,” your fingers snap the device open and you go to your voicemails; jaw tight, “and if you don’t hear you groveling, Keller, I’m deleting all of them and chucking this phone into the sink.”

You go down the line to the very first message, small buttons clicking, and before you can stop yourself you press play.

It begins with a small moment of silence. A cough.

“Hey,” he says your first name, not one of your epithets. Your brows deepen their annoyed furrow, but you can’t help the uptick in your heart rate. Inside your flesh, the sinews of your throat close in on itself like a balloon. “I…I’m guessin’ I have a good enough ass-kicking waiting for me since you didn’t answer.” A strained laugh before another pause. You feel acidic tears boil behind your lids. “I’m not surprised—not really. Done some stupid things but never something like this.” You can hear him shake his head, voice going lower in defiance. “But they were asking me to leave Urzikstan in a worse place than when I entered it. This Liberation Force, Bug, it…they’re good people and what they’re asking me to do…” Alex huffs, growling under his throat. “I can’t stand by that. The man you chose to marry, he can’t stand by that. They need me here. I’m not asking you to not be angry—to not hate me for this. I know I damn well deserve it.”

You let your tears hit the counter, head slightly bowing over. That was your Alex.

“You need a leash,” your strained voice hits the walls, bouncing off picture frames and your husband's cooking utensils. The small pieces that make up the whole picture frame of your life. “God,” you huff wetly, “you’re going to get yourself killed.”

“I know I should have talked to you first, figured out some plan. But, uh,” Alex’s throat gets choked up, and you snap a hand to your mouth when you realize he’s close to tears. He clears his throat. “Hell, I should have done a lot of things, Sweetheart.”

You can hear shouts in the background, calls in Arabic. The pounding of a door and a woman’s voice.

“Alex, we need to move! Everyone is ready—Barkov’s lab cannot be left standing a moment longer.” The hurried hand to the line muffles the words, but you hear him anyway.

“Affirmative!” He comes back. “I don’t have time to explain more, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for… everything. I’d understand if you don’t use the passport Laswell’ll give you, but that doesn’t mean I’m just going to stop calling.” Alex laughs and your face freezes.

“Passport?”

“What kind of Husband would I be if I just let the most perfect woman in the world go without a fight, huh? I’ll be waiting until you call to tell me to shut the hell up and leave you alone or that you’re down in the airport waiting.” There’s a large sound of combat vests being clicked on—pistols being situated into holsters and a rifle strap slipped over a chest. Alex suddenly pauses and you stare at the phone blankly. “I know this is a big ask, Doll, and I know I’m horrible for even springin’ this on you when I’m half a world away from our bed. But I had to try, even if it was selfish. I just…I just really need to hear your voice telling me if I’m an idiot or not for thinking this up. Call me back soon…or when you run out of my clothes to burn in the firepit out back…I love you, okay? More…more than anything.”

There’s a minute or two of nothing, just Alex’s ragged breathing, and then there’s an older man’s voice ordering him to hurry up. The line clicks.

Your ears ring as it does, wide eyes dripping tears from your bottom lashes as your lungs chill over. Hand slowly flinching out, you ghost over the keys before clicking on the following voicemail. As it plays, your feet start to take you backward at a snail's pace, your spine flattering against the wall as blood drains to your feet.

“Hey, it’s me again. I still haven’t heard from you—that’s alright. Take your time.” Steadying yourself with a hand, you look out of the kitchen and get a glimpse of the manila folder on the desk, its tan hide sucking you in. Pulse in your throat, you rush out to grab it as Alex’s voice echoes. “I know Laswell gave you the file, I trust her that much at least.” A sigh. “But even if it’s just to yell at me, please pick up the phone soon. Let me save some of my dignity and give me a chance to beg on an open line, huh, Sweetheart…? But I guess that’s all—gotta go. I love you.”

You don’t play the next message because you’re ripping open the file with rabid hands, seeing exactly as you had when Laswell left it for you. Alex’s mission report; his patch. The dog tags around your neck clink together like a song, some brutal rhythm.

“Passport?” Grasping the mission report you pick it up, flipping through the multiple pages of blacked-out words and more confused than ever. “Airport?”

The words come out as whimpers, hands so shaky that the pages slip from your fingers. They slam to the floor in a flurry of bond paper and you curse loudly, snatching for the remnants futilely. Grasping on your hands and knees hitches build in your breath as your fingers dance rapidly before they slip across something distinctly not paper.

Small, tiny, and blue. Laminate.

Your very blood seems to stop in your veins. Pushing back one last piece of paper, you come face to face with a singular American passport. Gasping down mute breaths and licking your lips, you pick it up lightly, leaning back on your legs as if you’d just slammed your head into the concrete.

“Alex…” you whisper to no one.

Flipping the hard cover open, a small, palm-sized piece of paper slips out to your lap as your own face stares at you in image form. You blink for a moment before going to take the note and separate the ends. Formal script is inside, stiff lettering. Not your husband's handwriting, but you didn’t have to guess who’d written out these directions for you.

Laswell.

There was a destination in fountain pen ink—an airport near the Urzikstanian and Georgian border. Seeing as Urzikstan was on the travel-ban list due to the turbulence of the government and terrorist threats, you wouldn’t be able to get there directly.

But you supposed Kate had your back for that too.

Georgian safehouse - wait for Keller there. It’s secure. More directions and then a small gap. A pause. Good luck.

You don’t know how long you stare at that paper—that passport. The first thing you think about is how could Alex ask you to do this. Uproot yourself with the snap of a finger. You wouldn’t be able to bring anything beyond what could fit in a few suitcases. No furniture, no large amount of clothes, or even sentimental items. You’d have to quit your job; leave behind family and friends to travel to a war-torn country.

But he’d said it was your choice, and he wouldn’t push you to make it. He’d said you could leave him if you wanted—keep all of this that you’d built here.

…But you’d built it together, hadn’t you?

You think of Alex’s bright smile and his mustache. His tattoos. How he’d hold you so tight in the long hours of sleep that you half-believed he thought you’d disappear if he didn’t; nuzzling his nose into the back of your head and grumbling out nonsense. The way you could trace his scars and watch as he willingly submitted to your praise, delicate lips curving into sheepish grins as you place soft kisses on the raised skin. Red cheeks.

This place wasn’t a home without Alex in it.

You look over at the coffee table and lock onto the gold of your wedding band.

—

Getting into Georgia was a long affair of paperwork and screenings—not days but months of legal jargon that Alex had dodged entirely because of his desertion. By the time you’d landed in country, you were wholly exhausted down to the very marrow of your bones. You get through the checkpoints, pick up your bags, and look out at the entirely new world outside of the airport’s windows.

“Okay,” you swallow saliva and nod carefully before looking down at Laswell’s directions to the safehouse.

You slip the paper into your pocket after memorizing the address, tips of your fingers brushing the smooth surface of the flip phone. Clenching your eyes shut, you take your hand back out and go to try and hire a driver. You were here, but that doesn’t mean all of this was forgiven.

After you find someone able to drive you to where you need to go, you end up standing with a quaint hostel ahead of you, home far behind. Gazing slightly nervous at the strange place you’ve found yourself, you think of Alex’s hand on the small of your back and sigh; caressing the cool metal of the ring around your finger.

Walking forward, you hitch your bags over your shoulders and grit your teeth against the hot sun. When you meet the owner at the front desk you state your name and ask for a bed.

The man’s eyes widen for a moment before he looks at something on his countertop, raising a brow in thought. Grabbing at a stack of papers he holds up a finger and begins digging. Too tired and overwhelmed to ask what was wrong, you just watch and rub at your face.

“Ah,” the man snaps his fingers and laughs to himself, “here it is! I knew I had placed the note somewhere, Mrs. Keller.” You blink, confused, but the man just takes a key from the wall and motions for you to follow. Sparing a glance around for a moment, you slowly slink after, not really having a choice.

“I remember your Husband coming to me—the blond with the tattoos.” The owner looks back, making sure you’re following. He motions to his right side with splayed fingers. “Scars on the side of his head, to reserve a room.”

Alex was here? How much had he done already pertaining to the chance that you would show up?

“Y-yeah,” you chuckle stiffly, “that was him. Sorry for being so long I was…preoccupied.”

“You’re lucky he kept up on payments,” the man grumbles, opening a door with the key and motioning you inside. “My pleasure to finally have you, regardless.”

Entering the small and sparse room, you take the key from him with a thankful smile and a quick thank you before he closes the door. As the barrier thuds, you sway on your feet. Blinking. Breathing hard. You drop all of your bags with a heavy thump that echoes off the walls in a single instant. Heart pounding at everything that was striking you in an instant, you walk slowly back to the bed. You don’t bother to take a shower or brush your teeth; even change.

You fall down on the mattress and pray you don’t have to dream about Alex sending money to this place every week simply on a suffocating hope that you’d come back to him. You pray you don’t dream at all.

The phone wakes you up only thirty minutes later.

Groaning, you shift your body so your hand can snake into your pocket, grasping it and tossing it to the pillow beside your head. You’d never made it through all of the voicemails without crying, so you just deleted all of them and let the inbox fill back up again.

Feeling the dog tags press against your chest as you form your chest into the bed, you shove your head downward and listen to it ring.

Bring-bring, bring-bring, bring-bring

It happens in a flurry of a sleep-addled mind and a horrible desperation to see your husband after nearly a full year of no contact. You flip it open and answer with your nose pressed deeply into the pillow below you. Ears straining and pulse running like a starving cat after a mouse.

Dead silence.

“...Sweetheart…?” It’s pitiful how fast the tears flood you at Alex’s shocked and tiny voice. Tight breathing sounds over the line from his end and your other hand digs into your scalp. A small, cut-off laugh. “Hey…I—”

You hang up with a vicious slam of the screen and let the silence settle again. People walk the hall; the sun dims as night sets in. This isn’t home. Dropping the phone back down to the pillow you curl into a tight ball and cry yourself back to sleep.

If you had to guess, you’d say the small curse was what woke you for the second time, though you didn’t register it until minutes later. That muffled ‘shit’ as a foot hits your dropped bags near the door. But then it’s silent again and your ears only twitch to the gentle sigh that brushes against your face; a thumb and forefinger caressing your cheek as hair is placed back over your ear.

Perhaps the only reason at all as to why you don’t wake up screaming bloody murder is because of his calluses. They burn your flesh as they slide over it—as ingrained into your very being as your own heart is. As if Alex’s touch was another organ that was needed to survive. More important than a liver or a spleen.

When your eyes slip open he’s leaning back in a chair he had turned to face you, built form shifting as the rickety wood creaks. No more than five feet away sits your husband, and all you do is suck in a tight breath and lock gazes with soft sea glass.

Alex freezes at the same time, strong brow line peeling back and mustache stiff as his lips immediately thin. You both stare for a good while, a thread of tension entering the air. The night deepens.

He speaks first, in the dense hours of confrontation. Your heart feels like it’s been stuck with a spear, vignette at the sides of your vision, and a blooming center of only Alex’s body and his messy hair. The scarf around his neck. The combat vest.

Had he driven all this way to see if you were here? Because you’d answered the phone? But you hadn’t even said anything. Your head stays on the pillow, wondering if you were hallucinating.

“Hey,” Alex forces a chuff before he glances away, nervous arms crossed. “Hey there, Doll. Sorry that I woke you. I…ah,” your eyes bore into him, hand on the sheets slowly clenching into a fist. “I figured there was an off chance you would be here.” He clears his voice, throat closing on a trying laugh. “Guess I’m glad I looked. You should remember to lock your door, by the way.”

At the sight of your rising glare, his tone drops, expression falling even more than it already was. Deep well of sadness grew in his eyes, lips pulling back in a strained agony.

Alex’s gaze drops to the floor.

“I know,” is what hits the air, “I know, Sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t fucking cut it,” you push your body up as his large shoulders tighten—such an accomplished and strong man brought to a squirming heap when his wife’s sharp words hit him in the chest. “What the hell were you thinking, Alex?!”

Heavy feet hit the floor as you stalk over, fatigue and tiredness pushed all the way to the back of your mind yet also enhancing your emotions. Bitter rage was sparking—held in far too long. Alex’s eyes don’t meet yours, so you grab him by the chin and angle his head up to you.

At the sight of your red sclera and the baggy gaze he stills. Under your grip his beard tickles you, the soft grip of flesh that makes you want to wrap your arms over him and weep; make him promise to never leave like that again.

“I…I wasn’t…”

“That’s the thing isn’t it—you didn’t think.” Sea glass floods over, going glossy; hurt etched into both of your faces as if carved from the same stone. But you don’t stop now, growling out as your skin burns. Alex isn’t sad that you’re angry, he’s sad he’s done this to you. “You disappeared, Alex. Laswell had to just drop all of this shit on me. I thought you had died.” You growl. “Do you know what that feels like?!”

“Sweetheart—”

“Shut up! You let me talk,” he falls silent, hand delicately coming up to grab your wrist. Not to pull you away, just to hold you. To feel your skin and the heat of it. You sniffle and his eyes break. “And the worst part of it was that if you had just asked I would have followed you right then and there.” Alex sharply looks back at you. “But the biggest insult was that you thought I would leave you—that you even considered that.”

Shock slowly gives way to a blank expression. He was confused, now.

Was that what you were angry about?

“You’re an idiot, Keller. Hot-headed. Cocky.” You shake your head, but a tiny smile begins to bleed onto Alex’s face. Watching you like you’d just sprung a million dollars on him. His grip slightly squeezes, calloused thumb running the span of your knuckles as you shake his head with your hand. “Damn nuisance to my health, is what you are.” Trying to remain angry is tough when he’s looking at you like that—starstruck—but you spit out, “It’s insulting that you thought I’d just give up on us that easily.”

“Most women don’t want a man who’s wanted for desertion, Doll,” Alex whispers, testing a smirk on his lips with his expression still strained.

“Arrogant!” your voice snaps. “Not a single brain cell in his stupid little head.” You let go of his chin and grip the sides of his skull, feeling the dirty but still soft strands of hair before you huff at him.

But he just looks at you and smiles, face smooshed.

“...You really came?” Alex asks quietly. You fall silent and after a moment you deflate.

After the silence of trying to keep the sneer on your face, you let it drop, lips quivering slightly. Anger glints with pain. “I should hit you upside the head, Keller, for all the worry you’ve put me through,” you grunt, eyes flashing over every new bruise on his face—every cut you’d have to re-learn. He looks tired.

Oh, Alex…

Before the blond can respond to you, you’ve captured the back of his head and shoved it into your chest; face burying itself into his scalp to bring forth that scent of dust and cologne. You whimper out as he grips you around the waist with just as much fervor, “Did you think that I would stay away?”

Alex says nothing, only the slight tremor in his bicep betraying him. You firmly kiss his skull and run your fingers through his hair, the both of you so tight together there’s barely enough room in your ribs to allow your lungs to inflate.

But holding him was more important than air, a sentiment that Alex seemed to share entirely.

“I’m so glad you’re here, Bug.” He mutters into your skin. “Feels good to be able to hold my girl again.”

You stay like that for a long time before you pull back and capture his cheeks, face pulling closer before you kiss him deeply. It’s not a fast-paced or desperate thing—no clashing teeth or tongue. That wasn’t what you needed right now.

All that you needed was Alex. Your home.

You both separate and the blond grabs the back of your neck, forcing you back so he can lay another on the side of your mouth; nose, cheek. Anywhere that he could reach as his mustache tickled you to a smile. Giggles worm out and you wiggle out of his grip to wipe at your cheeks, spreading away tiny tear tracks and saliva.

“Quit it,” you whisper, and Alex gazes up at you reverently from his chair.

“Negative, Ma’am,” he says, equally as soft, not even blinking. “Don’t wanna.” You roll your eyes, face hot.

The seconds draw long of only watching one another before you shake your head and move your hands to shimmy out of the dog tags around your neck. Alex’s gaze locks on the metal swiftly, smile shifting.

“You’re horrible.” You huff, quietly, before shoving his dog tags at his chest. “Now put them back on.”

“But I’m not in the—” Your glare shuts him up. Alex clears his throat sheepishly. “Yes, Ma’am.”

You nod and watch as they’re resituated around his neck. Right where they should be. When you take a step back to really take him in, there’s a moment where you skim over the state of his left leg. After all, the metal was barely noticeable in the dark. But when you do see it every little part of you shrivels up with confused pain.

Alex stands with a noticeable preference to his right and as he towers over you, fingers coming to grab at your face and slowly drag it back up.

A slightly apologetic look washes over him.

“I’m guessing you didn’t listen to all of the voicemails.”

“Alex…” you slowly cut off. “You…” Staring at the metal limb instead of the real one, you gape. “...how?”

“Y’know,” he laughs, but you don’t find this funny. He notices and kisses your forehead, tapping his scalp to yours and saying after a contemplative pause, “I think it’s better if I don’t explain it. I’m alright, just...” Alex smiles cheekily, the spark that you love coming back easily as it shimmers in his eyes, “just a little more carbon fiber and aluminum than I was before.”

You hug him tightly.

“I’m sorry, I should have come sooner—I was just angry, and I wasn’t—”

“Don’t apologize to me,” Alex sighs, grabbing you and maneuvering the both of you to the bed. He sits and you end up laying in his lap like that moment in the bathroom ages ago. “None of this is your fault, okay? You deserve to be angry. I shouldn’t have put such a burden on you.”

You sigh in his arms, head under his chin and heart finally able to return to a steady pace. Licking your lips, you ask, “Does it hurt?”

Sending a glance down, Alex’s lips twitch with a grin before it disappears. He hums.

“Sometimes.” Your hand grips his opposite cheek and you lay a kiss on his chin, caressing his flesh.

It’s a tentative kind of love. An understanding and a plea all at once.

The blond leans back against the wall and pulls you closer, closing his eyes. Finally relaxing for the first time in what seems like forever. But his girl is in his arms, and he’s never been this calm.

“I have a home in Urzikstan,” he confesses lightly, fingers brushing your body and giving way to shivers. You listen, eyes fluttering at the vibrations of his words. “It’s safe—protected. I…want us to live there.” Alex nods against your head, swallowing. “If you’ll come back with me.”

“Yes,” your answer is immediate. “Anywhere, as long as you’re with me.”

You feel his breath hitch, soft chuckles brushing your hair far better than any comb. There’s a small tremor in his voice as he says, “I love you. God, do I love you.”

Your lips pull up, body growing heavy with a final sense of home.

“I love you, too.” Soft kisses and tight arms. Shifting tattoos. “But if you ever do something like that again without talking to me, I’m telling Laswell she has permission to put a bullet in your ass.”

His loud laughs shake your body, and you press your face into his neck to steady yourself; smiling.

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lxvvie · 5 months

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Alex Keller who makes you ride his face.

Alex Keller who grabs your hips as you whine that the sensation's "too much. 'S too much, Alex."

Alex Keller who grumbles, "The fuck you goin', boss?", sits you back down on his face, and goddamn, his tongue is fucking sinful.

Alex Keller who has you crying tears of pleasure, moaning his name into the long night.

#nsfw.#2queued4u.#call of duty: imagines #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #alex keller #alex keller x reader #alex keller x black reader #call of duty x reader #alex keller x you #call of duty x you #cod x reader #cod x you #cod x black reader #call of duty x black reader #x black reader #x plus size reader

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irregulardongyoung · 4 months

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Price’s Hot Spouse

Alex truly do look similar to Price.

Warning : dubcon, afab, unprotected sex, & implied cuckold.

Note : Part 2? +I EDITED IT! Sorry, i forgot what the nb word for Mr/Mrs while writing this😭

If anyone say that Alex is his son, i would’ve believe them. No question whatsoever.

But imagine this: reader is Price’s spouse who’s close with his colleagues and team. The TF members likes to come over, along with his trusted allies for a peaceful dinner at his house.

One night while the rest of the team were drinking away and sharing story, his spouse goes upstairs to rest for the night.

Since it’s already night time, you didn’t bother using the big light, only using the one on the nightstand. You were just finished showering and was about to slip on your night garment but felt a pair of hands hugging you from behind.

Based on the size of the hands and the similar body shape, you just assume it’s your husband and let him cope a feel.

“Don’t be too rough, love.” You warned him while holding back a moan from his hands that are massaging your breast.

Impatiently, he put on a blindfold over your eyes and you were a bit confused. John always says that he wants you to always look at him while making love. He said it turn him on when he see how hard you’re trying to keep your eyes on him with every thrust.

But at the same time, John is always the adventurous one, always suggesting new ways to spice up their love making. So, you figure it’s one of those nights.

You let him take the lead as he man handle you as he pleases. His move is a bit sloppy and clumsy, like he’s testing the water, but he is still gentle, something that your husband pride himself when it comes to you.

“Don’t tease me, John...” you groan impatiently. You felt him kissing you and stripping your towel in one harsh movement before putting your back on the mattress.

When your head meets the pillow, you hear rustling of clothes, meaning he is stripping down. Then his hand immediately latch onto your skin, as if he’ll die without skin contact.

You felt his cock twitching on your thigh with every noise that you let out. His fingers comfortably playing with your clit. Trying to open you up and prep you, but mostly because of his own needs.

After making you cum once with his fingers, he need to taste you. NEED IT. So he held your legs apart as he eat your pussy like a starve man. The sensitivity of just cumming and the warm feeling of his mouth just made you shudder in pleasure as you cum one more time, now on his mouth.

“Good girl.” He praised you as he lick your juice from his lips. His voice is different from your husband but you were too far gone to notice. You’re enjoying it, he can tell.

“‘M gonna take care of ya.” He murmur as he line his dick. Slowly he push his dick in and kissing your collarbone while waiting for your signal to move.

In your dazed mind, you do felt the difference of penis. For one, your husband’s dick is larger, fat, and veiny. Like an angry bull when it’s fully erect. But this man’s dick is leaning into large in length instead of width, although it’s still veiny.

“‘m wanna move...” he whined on your shoulder. Your thought doesn’t go very far since his dick keep twitching inside your walls. He can’t help it! It’s too warm, too comfortable, but also tight. He wanna feel more!

On instinct, you tap his shoulder twice, a code that only your husband knows, that means you’re ready.

It seems the man also knew this code and he start moving in and out of you cunt. Is he your husband then? You can’t think properly like this!

“Mmfh! S-slow down!” You moaned out. Instead of slowing down, he just goes even more feral. “Feels so good...! I’m sorry, i can’t slow down! I’ll make it up to you. I promise!” He stutter out his sentences as his move began going rapid but still on rhythm.

“Jo-“ His mouth catch yours, just as you were about to moan your husband’s name. His kiss is filled with needy lust and happiness. As if he’s been waiting for this for a long time.

You grab his arm and direct him to touch your clit since you want to cum too. And he immediately picks up on it as he begin teasing your clit while still moving his hips and kissing your lips.

His movement began going sloppy when he felt you clamping down on him. “F-fuck!” He moan into your mouth. “Wanna cum...” you whined.

He kiss your cheeks and lick the tears that escape the blindfold from your cheeks. “‘m gonna fill ya, yeah?” He mumbled.

You nods, waiting for the permission to release while your hands are on his shoulders, trying to find stability. Although he quickly reposition the two of you in a mating press, your hand are now on either side of your head as you held onto the sheets and legs are thrown onto his shoulders.

His movement goes bold but still sloppy before he squeezed your waist twice, a code that only your husband knows, that means to cum now.

He pour his seeds deep inside you at the same time as you cum all over his dick.

Both of you are sweating and out of breath but still keeping the position because he still want to feel you close. But he knows he need to lay you down, so he did with gentleness.

He pull out his dick and lay your legs on the mattress, giving it a squeeze of ‘well done’ before his hand went up to caress your still blindfolded face.

“I love you. God, i’ve been in love with you since the day Captain Price introduce his spouse.” His words made your heart skip a beat, and it’s not out of flattery but out of panic.

HE’S NOT YOUR HUSBAND???!!!

He took off the blindfold and kiss you lips quickly while you are still adjusting to the light. A few seconds passed by and you now can see the man in front of you.

You pushed him off of you as strong as you could, which is not a lot in the first place but even more after cumming three times. Regardless, he relented and moves away from your embrace, although not without a pout.

“ALEX?!” You could not believe that you just fucked your husband’s coworker!

“That’s a good show, love.” A familiar voice praise you. You glance to the side to find your husband smiling on the chair with his dick out and cum all over his hand.

“John?” You called for him. But your vision is immediately being violated by harsh light, as somone turn on the bedroom light.

After a few seconds, you regain your sight and saw John’s team and their allies in your marital bedroom. Their eyes are filled with lust and want. The buldge on their pants are noticeable but they seems to be more interested in you.

“John? What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry, love. Should’ve told you beforehand, but the boys agreed on telling you themselves.” He apologized.

“Told me what?” You began asking nervously as the guys start smiling, even Simon from behind his mask.

“On sharing you, Mx. Price. We love you so much, we can’t handle not being yours anymore.” Alex kissed your open palm.

Your eyes widen and heart beating uncontrollably. You loves John, that’s for sure. But the others? You never even look at them more than just your husband’s coworkers.

“Don’t hurt your pretty head. We’re gonna make you love us, yeah?” Johnny approach the bed and start kissing your shoulder while caressing your arm.

John smile at you. “They’re good boys, love. Give ‘em a chance, will you? If you still doesn’t feel anything, we can just make it into strictly sexual or even stop it all together.” He assure you. “I just want my spouse to be worship like what they’re suppose to.”

“Can i be your second husband?” Phillip cheekily asked.

“That position is mine.” Alex retort.

“I’m fine with third.” Kyle interjected.

“Let’s start with boyfriends first.” Simon cut their chatters.

Alex, Johnny, Simon, Kyle, Phillip, Nikolai, Gary, Alejandro, Rudy, Sandman, and Frost. Knowing your husband, you might have to assume there’s more than them.

With a sigh, you smile at John and the boys.

“Anything for you, John.”

#darlingssaturn ‘s writing #alex keller smut #alex keller x reader #alex keller x you #john price x reader #captain price x reader #john price x you #call of duty x reader #price x reader #john price smut #cod mw x reader #cod x reader #cod smut #call of duty smut #afab reader

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tiredmetalenthusiast · 3 months

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Here's another for the 50 word challenge by @deadbranch

“Alex! Please, please don't stop!” You whined. Why would he? He had you, the most beautiful person he's ever seen, under him. Screaming his name, writhing in the pleasure he was giving her. “Oh trust me, I don't plan to sweetheart.” His grip on your hips tightened. Ecstasy took over.

#~Harley finally writes something🫣#call of duty #alex keller #alex keller x reader #alex keller x you #alex keller cod #cod x reader #cod #cod mw2 #Alex keller smut

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thisfanisgonesorry · 3 months

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when you sleep — alex keller

kinktober day 5: somno (dont ask abt day 4)

the desperation from being apart for so long

tags: smut, somno / sleepy sex, dubcon (w/ explicit consent), breeding, light cumeating, light cunnilingus, thigh fucking

💤

He walked into the apartment with an annoyed groan, dropping his bag with a loud thud and kicking his boots off. His body was tense and his eyebrows were furrowed, it took everything in him to keep his agitated mumbles to himself.

Getting home was delayed by a week which already had him on edge, there was nothing more he wanted than to come home, but then instead of getting home at a tame 6 p.m like intended, it was 3 in the morning and the one face he wanted to see would’ve already been fast asleep.

He stood above the bed, shucking off his uniform, his eyes stayed glued to the calm, sleeping figure of his lover as he threw the damned uniform to a corner of the room to be cleaned up after he’d got some rest.

He unzipped his pants and tugged them to his thighs before a curt ‘fuck’ hissed from between his lips. He kicked them to the side, the ball of his palm rubbing over his growing erection.

“Baby?” He cooed sweetly, crawling into bed behind me and wrapping his arms around my waist. “Baby, wake up.” He pleaded with a kiss on the shoulder as his hardened bulge pressed into the soft curve of my backside.

“Mhm?”

“Angel, I’m home.” He sighed to himself, feeling the relief of some of the tension. I mumbled his name and attempted to roll over to face him but he kept me firm in place. “No, stay there.” He whispered.

He grinded his hips against me softly for a moment, there was no set rhythm and was based entirely on instinct and desperation alone. His hands fiddled with the hem of my shirt, resting on the soft skin of my stomach as he kissed my neck and shoulder, earning quiet, content hums in response.

His hands dug into the waistband of my underwear, tugging them down gently. “You okay?” He asked shortly, earning a nod and an affirmative hum. “Just let me—“ He pulled his own underwear down and slid his wet, leaky dick between my thighs.

“S’okay.” My hands found his and played with them as I slowly began to wake up, still drowsed by sleep.

“Missed you so goddamn much.” He pleaded mindlessly. “Hated fucking my fist. I’m so fucking pent up, angel.”

His hips started thrusting, dragging his dick against my thighs. “Ah, fuck, so soft.” He choked out, his grip on my waist tightening as he sped up the pace, methodically moving his hips to his own release.

He was overly sensitive from neglecting his own needs while away from home. It had been too long away, slight gasps, pants and whines leaving his throat at the movements. Too long since he felt the soft skin of my body — too long that he’d been able to touch me like this. He was writhing at the soft plush of my thighs wrapping around his needy dick.

“Sorry, not usually like this.” He gritted out, embarrassed by his desperation. “Gonna cum all over your thighs, baby.” He confessed with a scrunched up face, his forehead resting against my shoulder. “Jus’ go back to sleep, baby, I’ll finish up.”

“Y’can fuck me.” I murmured into the pillow.

He let out a soft exhale. “Yeah? I feel your pussy leakin’ all over my cock.” His breathing was ragged and harsh as he tried to keep his movements steady. “I’ll fuck you proper, promise. I’ll make it good f’you.”

I let out a soft sigh and moved against him, the tip of his dick brushing against my bundle of nerves, the slickness coating his achingly hard erection. “Alex.” I breathed as a warning. “Jus’ fuck me.” My voice was doused in sleep, I leant back into him before lazily rolling on my back and tugging at him.

“Angel, I don’t..” He took a sharp inhale before pressing a soft kiss onto my lips, his fingers trailing my jaw. “God, I love you.” He whispered, his original defiance melting away as he climbed on top of me.

He pressed a dozen or so kisses onto my face as he lined himself up. He rubbed the squishy head between the folds, groaning inwardly and enjoying the view despite the dim room. The only light was that from the ensuite, revealing just enough. His tip was a dark red, almost purple, from how much he needed this.

His hands were preoccupied, one languidly stroking himself while he felt the slickness coat his dick, and the other taking a handful of the loose sheet. “You fuck yourself while ‘ve been gone?” He asked, his voice was tender and soft; filled with adoration for the baby he’s missed so much.

“Mhm.” I spoke sleepily, gradually waking up despite my exhaustion, my eyes glued to watching him rub himself against me. “Only fingers. Wanted y’to come back wit’ me all tight.”

“Awh, honey.” He crooned despite the raggedness behind his voice. The tip caught against the hole and his eyes fluttered briefly before pushing in. “You’re so tight, angel, fuck — that’s a good girl.”

“Like that.” I whined out. “Love feeling you after you’ve been gone.”

His response was quick, sharp and breathless. “Me too.” He panted, burying himself to the hilt slowly, letting both of us feel the stretch to its full extent, basking in it like morning sun. “Even after these months, you take me perfectly, sweet girl.” His voice choked out.

He reached hilt, his tip nudging against my back wall and his balls flush against my ass. He holds the position for a moment, causing a whine to drag out of my throat. “Al, baby, c’mon.” I pleaded gently, trying to shuffle against him.

“Stop, please.” He pleaded, his voice dropping to an octave that I’d never heard from him before — his muscles tensed, some of them trembling from the pressure. “I’m gonna cum, give me a moment.” He confesses with a string of whimpers, too enveloped by the feeling to bite them back.

I huffed in amusement, resting my eyes and sinking down into the pillows. “That needy?”

“Basically been edging myself for the last few weeks.” He joked dryly with a shaking voice. “Hated my hand so fuckin’ much, wasn’t enough, couldn’t..” He paused, trying to ration his breathing as I clenched around him, not entirely intentionally, he hunched over slightly as my body pleaded for movement. “Took too long to cum, so I’d give up.. Couldn’t fuckin’ do it, needed it to be you.”

His words were filthy, though they sounded like a love confession and in his own way, it was. He leaned closer to my face, pressing enough kisses to ease the pressure.

“Let me take you.” He whispered. “Please, I’ll fuckin’ worship you after, but I’m so fucking— I need you, please, I need to cum.” He begged, he actually begged. This was a man that’d taken more lives than he can count, sent all over the world to kill — but here he was, begging after months of sexual frustration.

“Y’so pretty when you beg.” I teased and his hands twitched, his hands digging into my hips, crescent moon-shapes onto the flesh as he restrained himself. A whispered ‘please’ escaped his lips like a cherry on top, and I basked in the dominance for a moment. “What do you want?”

“Want you under me. Been wanting your pretty li’l ass in the air, been picturing your pretty legs spread for me, showin’ me that pretty fuckin’ pussy, just..” He trailed off with a choked groan, the way his voice shook was clear enough to tell you that he couldn’t even think straight. “God, puttin’ y’self on display for me to just take.”

I shuffled under his tight grip, his fingers brushing my sides as he held himself with soldier-like restraint. I placed my hands over his, biting back all the snarky comments I had to make about his pleads. “So take it.”

His mind went blank and it was like he was seeing stars, he slid himself out and was careful, incredibly gentle, as he flipped me over. I laid on my stomach briefly and he ran his hands up and down my back, feeling the fabric of the shirt, before I pushed myself up onto my knees. I pressed myself against his hips, earning a twitch from his erection as it leant against the curve of my ass.

His hands landed on the soft skin of my backside, moving me forward before his dominant hand drifted downwards, his index and thumb spreading the folds so he could get a good look, watching the way the separation caused strings of slick between them, coating the tips of his fingers.

“Love you.” He babbled as a ‘thank you’ at the view, his other hand continued to push my position into place, trying to find a way that was more comfortable on my joints so he could just bury himself into me and never leave. My face was pressed comfortably into my pillow and I whined out for him.

He pressed himself slowly to the hilt with a soft groan. “That’s my girl.” He praised, leaning over me and pressing a kiss onto my shoulder and down my back, his fingers brushing through my hair. “Y’feel so much better than I remember.”

His words went straight to my core, the warm tingle making me clench and squeeze around him. His fingers began to dig into my scalp, holding it out of the way so he got a pleasant view of my neck and shoulders. He was mesmerised by the way my shoulders moved as I breathed and the way my throat moved as I moaned and swallowed thickly, my cheek pressing into the soft fabric and my mouth making an ‘O’ shape to keep my breathing steady at the sharp tension.

“You’re so lovely, angel.” He praised, beginning his gradual thrusts, slow enough to reminisce on what he’s missed. “So sweet to me, y’re lettin’ me have you like this.. Could’ve jus’ let me fuck your thighs, gone to sleep.” He sighed contently, not at all upset at the previous concept, he would’ve been just fine with it. His words were that of a love drunk lunatic, rambling every earnest word he could come up with. “I could’ve jus’ cuddled up to you ‘n’fucked you proper tomorrow but god, just..”

“Love you too much.” I mumbled into the pillow, feeling him fuck me further into the soft fabric. His hands on my hips dragged me to meet his movements, a sweet need to keep me comfortable while he literally took what he wanted.

His breath was still raggedy as he tried to make this as pleasant for both parties, though it was well known this wouldn’t be how sex usually was considering how he needed to let out his pent up frustrations. “Such a good girl, y’know I’ve wanted you for so long.” He praised, feeling incredibly grateful that he wouldn’t have to wait any longer. “My memory never does you justice.”

I muffled my sounds through the pillow as he moved us in tandem. I wiggled my hips at him and he hissed, his fingers dug into the plump flesh of my ass. “Take what’s yours, Alex.” I murmured into the pillow, my head bobbing at his thrusts.

“Always.” He whispered, his hands drifting. He enjoyed the fistful of ass, though his other hand continued to run up and down my spine, his hands dragging under the fabric of my tank shirt, his fingers brushing my hair to the side to display my shoulders to him. He continued to hunch himself over, pressing kisses onto parts of my back, feeling the muscles tense.

His hands wrapped around my hair once again, a makeshift ponytail as he displayed my neck to him fully. A kiss on the back of my neck, his teeth grazing slightly. His hands and lips tingling with the need to remember every inch of the body displayed in front of him.

“Your hair is so soft.” He praised, littering kisses on my neck and shoulder, trying to find any sense of closeness to cure the loneliness that seeped his bones while away. “And your skin is so sweet.”

He was winding me up, reaching places that haven’t been touched since his departure, the spongy flesh stretching to swallow him whole as he filled the space perfectly, and even after months, his muscle memory pushed him into just the right places.

Lewd sounds fell from my lips, a sharp gasp as he nuzzled against the spot of heaven. My eyes fell closed, threatening to roll back into my skull, his fingernails massaging my scalp, threatening to pull my hair back and bend my neck to unmuffle the sounds into the pillow. I whined out for him, and he conceded.

He pulled away from my neck, his body completely upright as he stopped moving my hips to meet his hips, instead pulling himself back and forth more suitably, holding my hips firmly in place so I couldn’t fuck myself back on him if I tried, or at least without a notable amount of effort. “Could take a bite out of that ass.” He grunted, slowing his movements to stop himself from cumming, though it earned him a dejected sigh, uncontent.

“I was close.” I tried to squirm, though his trained restraint held me firmly. He hushed me quietly as he moved slowly, depressingly so — enough to keep me sated while fighting off his own orgasm.

“Touch yourself for me.” He whispered, crooning sweetly. “Help me, let me use you.”

My legs struggled to hold myself up, wanting to buckle and go limp. I twitched around him as I rubbed figure 8’s to make up for the lack of friction from his movements.

“Fuck.” He choked out, a whimper escaping his throat. “You’re making this difficult.” The ball of his palm rested on the bottom of my spine, trying to soothe me. His hips stuttered and he whispered silent pleads.

“‘M sorry, you feel so good, missed your cock.”

“I know, angel. Jus’ don’t wanna be some chump that cums in 2 seconds.” He huffed, puffing his chest out. A short laugh at his own snide comment. “I wanna take my time on you.” His words were enchantingly sweet despite his outward demeanour, his actions of brute exploitation.

“Mhm, I don’t care.” I reassured, knowing how pent up he was — how angry his cock must look, all red and swollen from being neglected. He pushed into my walls like he had a frustrating desperation, thick and achingly hard.

“Baby.” He chuckled. “Might be usin’ you, but ‘m not selfish. Gonna make sure you cum on my cock, yeah? ‘M not selfish.” His words lingered, he echoed to convince himself that he wouldn’t get carried away, ‘I’m not selfish’ he tried to convince himself. Despite how appealing his thoughts were, he took a shaky inhale, pushing them away.

My hips moved on their own accord, continuing his thrusts slowly after a moment of stillness, he had me bouncing at his movements with the weak slapping sounds of our hips connecting, clawing ah-ah-ah’s leaving my throat in time to his thrusts. He buried himself deeply into my guts, he had no shame in hiding his noises, he was desperate and he wanted me to know how badly he wanted it.

He let out a continuous string of grunts, groans and whines. “Keep playin’ with your cute pussy, doll. Get yourself there for me, get yourself off.” I nodded in time with him, moving my hands in a mix between frantic, wild need and precise movements. I clamped down on him, and he grunted, a choked cry as his composure almost turned to dust right then and there.

He breathed heavily, watching me squirm with want. “Wanna cum on your cock so bad.” I babbled, a distant whine murmured into the saliva-stained pillow. “So damn close.” I was barely audible, incoherent mumbles and cries

His slow movements picked up speed, his hand running through my hair, a makeshift ponytail in his tight fingers as he fought the urge to crane my neck again. “Make some noise, let me know how much you’ve missed me.” He whispered lowly. “Missed your pretty fuckin’noises, your pretty pussy, your pretty damn face.” He pressed a chaste kiss on my shoulder, then the side of my face.

His fingers trailing through the ponytail, messily brushing knots from sleep out of it, before tugging on it slightly, just enough to move my mouth from the pillow. He tried his hand at small acts of devotion, his body shaking and trembling as he tried to restrain the greedy thrusts his body ached for.

“Wanna pull your neck so far back that it hurts.” He grumbled under his breath, before clearing his throat. “God, I love you, my pretty angel.” He crooned sweetly, covering up his previous devious thoughts, hoping my lust-haze blurred his words.

I sighed, fighting his grip to muffle myself into the pillow. “I’m close.” Whiney, high-pitched moans getting censored by the fabric I threatened to stuff into my mouth, sinking my teeth into it.

He nodded with each thrust, bouncing his head like he had no thoughts, watching me close my eyes in bliss, his grip on my hair loosened, just tight enough to keep the hair off my neck, letting the cool air brush against the skin to ease the sweat droplets forming all over my body. His thrusts began to lean more into my body, a white-knuckle grip on my waist, his fingers ghosting under the hem of the shirt. Sharp inhales and panting grunts from under his breath as he focused on whatever he could do to chase his orgasm off any longer.

“You’re right there.” He pleaded, trying to encourage the climax. “What’d’ya want me to do? Angel? What can get you there closer? What’ll make you— ah—” He hissed at the sudden tightness. “So fuckin’ tight, oh my god.” A choked gasp, and he scrunched his eyes tightly, then an airy laugh. “Squeezin’ the life outta me.”

Incoherencies fell from my mouth like stones, they were heavy yet quiet. I felt my stomach tense up under his fingers, my legs feeling like they’d collapse under my own weight and feeling my body clamp down on him like a vice, trying to keep him firmly in place. Then it washed over me, a high pitched whine. “Alex—!”

A low guttural groan as he twitched, his hips stuttering with desperation, moving more feverishly. “Oh fuuck, thank you.” He grunted, huffing for air. He felt the intermittent spasming cunt around him, a weak attempt of my body to milk him dry.

Both our bodies were slick and sticky with sweat, and he basked in my pleasure. “Don’t stop.” I almost sobbed; and he nodded with an open mouth grin, lazily smiling down.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He felt the spasm die down into twitching of overstimulus, and the way the warmth hugged him was too much for him — feeling the squelch of the wetness around him as he drove his hips to his finish. His hips pushed as deep as they could, brushing against my cervix, and his own member twitched before he came with a loud, pornographic moan.

“That’s m’pretty li’l angel.” He slurred, his voice gruff as he came hard, flooding my insides with his seed. “Missed you so fu-ucking much.” And his body went limp, laying himself down against me, idly grinding his hips into mine. He was still painfully hard, sagging only slightly, and he nuzzled into the sweat-musk of my neck.

My hands fell from my sensitive clit, and I went limp from under his heavy body, letting his body weight sink onto me, I tried to ration my breathing, catching my breath as he still panted desperately.

“Gotta keep m’cum in you.” He grumbled, his nose brushing against the damp curve of my neck. He kept grinding into place, a low groan as he felt his arousal not falter in the slightest. I hummed, and he laughed, still feeling the way the oversensitivity felt around him. He pulled himself out, giving himself a few messy, languid strokes as a substitute for the sudden lack of inviting warmth.

His lips trailed down my spine, his fingers dragging the tank top up to worship the skin of my back, the blank canvas he could just paint. He lightly sunk his teeth into my backside, small indents on my ass, met with a light slap when he pulled away.

He admired the scene in front of him, taking in the dazed, fucked out look on my face, my eyes struggling to stay awake. The way my body slumped into the mattress, all limp, my arms spread out over the pillow like I could just fall asleep right there. He laughed again, almost ignoring the need that consumed him.

“Mhm?” He beckoned, pressing kisses onto my face. “Sleepy girl, you here?” He huffed in amusement. “Did I fuck my pretty girl until she passed out?”

I grumbled under my breath a faint ‘nuh-uh’ — “‘M here.” I sighed, my voice gravelly from exhaustion. “Still here..”

“Let me clean you up.” He spoke sweetly, the palm on my lower back directly aiding the movement to flip me casually and easily onto my spine without moving me too much, to let me rest and to let the ache settle.

He moved his face lower down my body, faint and gentle, ghost-like kisses down my body until he pressed his nose against my clit, a deep inhale of the messy hole he’d ruined. He licked a strip between the wet folds, collecting the juices on his tongue with a short groan.

“I’ll be doin’ this for hours tomorrow.” He mumbled to himself, completely aware of my languid state. He could stay down there for hours currently, but the way my hips twitched, threatening to pull away from him was all he needed to know better, too much of a good thing and all of that.

His hands stayed on my thighs, and he hushed me quietly. He was too tired to move, too horny to stop, and too loving to leave his sweetness all alone and unclean. Curt kisses place on my thighs as he stretched the muscles outwards, his hands wiping any sweat from behind the knees, and he crawled his way back up my body, angling me onto my side with a greedy kiss on the lips.

“Mhm, I taste you.” I commented, tasting the mixture of our cum on his lips.

“Tastes sweet, ain’t it? Like heaven.”

He snuggled up behind me like he did originally, his arms wrapped tightly around my stomach and pulling me close against him. I didn’t fight him, sleepily going with the way he moved me around, and he smiled into the crevice of my neck.

I could feel that he was still hard, pressed against my lower back, and he knew I could feel it, a tender kiss on my neck as an apology for it. “God, still fuckin’ hard.” He chuckled dryly. “Might jus’ keep fuckin’ y’thighs ‘till morn’..” He slurred, testing the waters and earning an affirmative hum in response. “You’d be okay wit’ that?”

“Mhm, ‘course.”

“Yeah?” He huffed. “Jus’ go to sleep, angel.” He reassured softly, quiet mumbles under his breath, his fingers running up and down my stomach carefully. “So perfect..”

He took a sharp inhale, a shaky exhale and moved my legs apart slightly, sliding his soaked cock between my thighs, using it as warmth for a moment, so he was already there when he decided his desperation was too much, that the lust made his body ache and his brain fog — he’d tolerate it until he can’t anymore.

“Sleep, pretty angel. Got all’ve tomorrow yet.”

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loveindefinitely · 3 months

Text

♱ 𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 WE'D STILL WORSHIP THIS LOVE — alex x gaz x reader

✩ part one, part two, part three, part four, part five

// read on ao3.

!!description.

You know love is real. You've felt it, tasted it, heard it, seen it -- all within the eyes of the two men you hold dearest.

Gaz is, well, Gaz -- always flirting, always one wink away from finding himself being taken home to someone else's bed. Alex is head over heels for Farah, who you really, really think is not interested in him. Or anyone, for that matter. Every day spent with the two chips at your soul, your heart a stuttering beat in your chest when their hands brush against your skin.

All it takes is one night, one shot, and one rejection to have the three of you stumbling into bed together at last. (And into each other's hearts.)

!!characters.

kyle 'gaz' garrick + alex keller

!!warnings.

nsfw, fem!reader, fmm, polyamory, threesome, friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, partying, drinking, getting together, praise kink, soft sex, light degradation, l-bombs, mutual pining,⚔️

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sky-is-the-limit · 6 months

Text

Idk if I'm easy to win over, but a hot asf man with a pornstache and himbo energy told me a dad joke like ''What happens when the CIA goes to sleep? They go undercover.''

That would do it for me.

#alex keller #cod #call of duty #alex keller x reader #alex keller x you #call of duty modern warfare #alex keller smut #cod smut #cod x reader #cod x you #mw1 #mw2 #captain price #simon ghost riley #könig #john soap mactavish

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mockerycrow · 10 months

Note

I need more Alex. #8 with him? 🙏🏼

SMUT PROMPTS: Alex Keller Drabble; “Crying Because Of How Good It Feels” (GN!Reader) - NSFW UNDER THE CUT

Alex groans as he tries his best to stay still, but fuck—you’ve already made him cum twice and he’s so fucking sensitive. “God—just.. slow—slow down, yeah?” Alex laughs, trying to bargain with you as your hand keeping pumping his weeping cock. His laugh turns into a breathy noise escaping his throat, his left leg—which is a prosthetic—jolts a bit. “Why? Does it hurt?” You murmur, nipping at his exposed shoulder.

Alex huffs and shrugs, eyes shut tight as he tries to control the brimming tears. “S..SensitivE—oh, Jesus, please—“ He pushes out, panting as your hand mercilessly speeds up, your thumb pushing right under the tip of his cock and squeezing your hand around it, almost like you’re trying to wring all of his loads out of him.

“Aww, come on, you can take it, Alex,” You purr, enjoying the way his teeth clench. His grip on the armrests tighten as you don’t let up. “C’mon, want you to cum for me.. Come on, baby..” You encourage, watching his tears slip out from under his eyelids, sliding down his cheek. “mMmh.. Fuck!” Alex sobs, no longer able to control his hips as he fucks up into your hand, spilling his cum all over your knuckles and his stomach, dripping into his happy trail.

#call of duty #cod #modern warfare ii #alex keller #cod alex keller #alex keller x you #alex keller x reader #alex keller x gn!reader #gn!reader #alex keller smut #alex keller cod #alex keller modern warfare #mw alex keller #alex keller mw2019 #crow’s prompts 1 #modern warfare #modern warfare fanfiction

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the-froschamethyst4 · 2 months

Text

The Blanket Of Safety

𖤐Pairing: Father! Alex x Mother! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: fluff, language, daddies girl, insecurities, mentions of a bully, yelling,

𖤐Summary: Alex's daughter comes home scared to go back to school because of a bully, so Alex steps in to bring it to the schools attention

————

2:30PM

Alex and his wife's daughter Maddie came home, tear stains on her cheeks and her eyes were red. Alex was still at work while Y/n saw her daughter's red face.

"Maddie, baby, what's wrong?" Y/n bends down to her daughters level, cupping her daughter's face.

"where's daddy?" She says, through sniffles.

"He's still at work, baby."

Maddie didn't want to say that there's a bully at school who constantly picks on her, she was scared something may happen. She was always told to tell an adult about bullies but when Maddie brings up a bully to any school adult, she seems to get brushed off.

---------

9:00PM

Maddie was in bed, and Alex just got home. He had a very late night, he usually would get home an hour after Maddie would come home from school, but Price needed him to stay longer.

"Love?" Alex comes into the living room seeing Y/n staring at the black TV screen with a mug of hot tea in her hands, she looks up at Alex with red eyes. "Y/n?" He drops his bag and cups his wife's face.

"S-She's getting bullied, Alex," Y/n's voice cracks.

"Maddie?" She nods in response.

"She said t-this girl in her c-class comes and bullies her f-for no reason, she s-says she brought it up to the p-principal and her teacher, but she gets brushed o-off like she's nothing," Y/n then placed her mug on the coffee table and her head rested on Alex's shoulder.

"I'll go to the school tomorrow and tell the principal," Alex doesn't mess around when it comes to his daughter or his wife.

----------

Alex walks down the hall and saw his daughter's bedroom light still on, Maddie's bedtime was 8:30. He walks to the door and gently pushes it open.

Maddie was coloring, she drops her markers and looks at her dad. She stood up and runs to her daddy. He bends down to her level hugging her.

"Mama, told me what happened," Alex tells her.

Alex proceeds to gently shut the door. Sitting on the floor and Maddie sits on his lap.

"Baby, what does she do?"

"He."

"Huh?"

"It's a boy, daddy."

"Okay...what does he do, baby?" Alex repeats.

"He just picks on me, picks at my hair, eyes, my teeth," Maddie has those bunny teeth, two big front teeth and small teeth surrounding the two front teeth. Of course Alex and Y/n find them cute, but Maddie has now grown insecure about them, not smiling or laughing.

"What do you tell the principal, when you first said something about it?"

"He's a boy...boy's will be boys...he only picks on because he likes you," that pissed Alex off. Alex was raised to be respectful but of course there are those boys who think they're being cute when they pick on people.

"I'll go to the school and put a stop to this okay?"

"Okay, daddy," Maddie says.

Alex then gets an idea, he remembers when his mom did this with him when he was little whenever he was getting bullied in school. He grabs a soft blanket off her bed and wraps her in the blanket earning a soft giggle from her.

"This is the blanket of safety, baby," Alex says.

"Why?" She asks.

"Because when you feel sad, wrap this blanket around you and when the blanket is around you, nothing will happen to you, the blanket will protect you," he smiles. "Words won't hurt you baby."

Alex picks her up and placed her in her bed, moving the covers over her small body, kissing her forehead and giving her an 'I love you' before turning off her lights and shutting the door quietly.

----------

Next Morning (8:40AM)

Maddie held Alex's hand before walking into the school, Alex let's his daughter walk inside and she heads to her classroom as Alex heads to the front office.

"Hello, sir, how can I help you?" The old lady asks behind the desk.

"I'm here to see Mr. Sanders," Alex says in a very, very, serious tone, his tone made the smiling old lady drop her smile when she realized it's something serious.

"Of course, I'll go get him," she says, getting up from her chair and heading to the back to go get the principal.

Soon she came back with Mr. Sanders behind her.

"Mr. Keller, how can I help you?"

"I wanna talk about my daughter and how she's getting bullied," Alex says.

"Of course, let's go talk in my office," Alex follows Mr. Sanders into his office.

"Your daughter is Maddie?"

"Yes..."

"Her so-called bully, Jayden Reyes."

"Oh so, you are aware...what have you done to help put a stop to this?" Alex jumps to the point.

"Mr. Keller, there is nothing for us to stop this-"

"Bullshit."

"I-I'm sorry?"

"Bullshit, he picks on her about her features, makes fun of her, and she has brought this up to you before and your response was, boys will be boys, picking on you means he likes you...that is some bullshit, do you tell every little girl that comes up here talking about getting picked on by a boy? Because if so, you are a shit principal."

"Sir, Mr. Keller, it is a lot of work and paperwork-"

"Woah! Just because it's a lot of paperwork?" Alex's jaw was on the fucking floor. "My 5-year-old comes to you an adult to put a fucking stop to this and your excuses...are shit coming from your ass-"

"Mr. Keller, please do not curse in my school-"

"WHY BECAUSE A FUCKING PRINCIPAL CAN'T DO HIS JOB CORRECTLY!?" Alex yells now.

"Mr. Keller, if I do something what would you like me to do?"

"Either separate them, or pull the little rat to talk to him about picking on people, because if it continues, this was calm, I was being calm, I'll come back and start a fucking riot. Make it stop now, Mr. Sanders," Alex stood up from the chair.

"Anyways...have a good day Mr. Sanders," it was a like switch in Alex's tone. He was calm now, very calm.

-----------

A Few Days Later

Maddie has seem to be a lot better, she smiling, and laughing again. Alex held Maddie on his hip as they stood at the drop off line at the school.

Maddie was kicking some rocks as the doors opened to let the students into the school. Alex kissed Maddie's forehead and let her go.

"Look both ways!" Alex says as Maddie did before running to the schools' sidewalk.

Alex looks at his daughter go inside the school, she walks passed Mr. Sanders and Alex and him made eye contact. Alex gave him a sarcastic smile before heading to his car.

"Asshole," Alex mumbles to himself as he is walking away.

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #fandom #fanfic #call of duty #mw2 #cod #alex keller #alex keller x reader #alex keller x you #alex keller x y/n

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 10 months

Note

i know you said request are closed but when they are open again (if they are again) could you possibly do alex keller just coming home from deployment with smut? your price writing are so amazing btw i’ve been reading them for 2 days now

Again, this is a super old ask, lmfao, sorry about that. I offer you pure filth for forgiveness.

Warnings: smut, NSFW, F!Reader, etc. (18+)

Wet slapping echoed off the walls, held back whines trapped in your throat as your thighs burn with exertion. Alex lays under you, head tilted back and neck bared; his fingers bruise your hips as he groans and gasps through gritted teeth.

When he came home from his assignment overseas, he'd known he'd been gone longer than anticipated, but if he'd known you'd been this desperate for him he would have gotten on the first plane home.

"Fuck," your boyfriend whimpers, rapid, messy, slurping in his ears as you jump up and down on his cock, back arched and tits bouncing as your cunt swallows him. Dripping sweat slides off your bodies, a testament to the feral way you'd been riding him for what seems like hours.

Alex can't even remember the number of times he'd felt his stomach bunch; eyes clamping shut as his throat groaned deeply. Multiple releases bleed over his thighs and pelvis, sloppy fluids connecting flesh in strings of slick cum.

"Fuck, Sweetheart, b-been needin' this since I got off that damn p-," his voice cuts out as you clamp around him, his sensitive dick twitching as you grind with a mewl playing on your lips. The man's hips jump as his back arches harshly, forcing out," P...plane! Ah!"

Your mouth is open with ecstasy, and above him, you're quite the vulgar picture of instinctual desperation. He can't help the way he watches you with hickeys down his neck and chest; pulsing purple bruises adding to the tightening of his thighs. Alex's fingers kneed your flesh in desperation, pleasure so sharp it borders on pain stuck in the lines on his forehead.

"P-please," he whimpers, and you drag your nails down his pecs in long lines of red. "God."

Alex gets more shaky and desperate, hands moving up to grip your hips despite the loose and lax hold in his weak rapture. At the incoming clench of his balls and the panicked widening of his eyes, his hips start to cant into yours in broken thrusts. Whined moans and dog tags stuck around his neck like a collar.

You grab at them as he thrusts up into you, gasping and faltering for a moment at the dig. Shared eyes, blown with lust and orgasmic torment. Alex feels your pussy tighten and watches your lashes flutter when your clit bumps into his lower abdomen, stimulating you perfectly on his happy trail.

"A-Alex, missed you s'much, Baby," you slur out with heaving lungs. The man's cock jumps harder, pace somehow increasing as you both roll your thighs. "Feel so full with you inside me. S-so good."

Neither of you would be getting out of this bed tomorrow.

Alex starts to breathe heavily again, his body trembling. He grits his teeth and starts to match your movements, groaning loudly into the air with broken need. He almost seems to be growling as he presses himself into you, his wound coil growing second by second. By the look on your face and the way your expression breaks with breathy moans, you're not far behind him in this senseless fucking session.

The man's surprised the both of you can even still speak over the sensation of his grating cock entering and exiting your tight hole. Echoing off the walls, cut-off cries grow in volume and breathiness, each accented by a violent thrust consisting of oxycontin and bare impulse. The bed frame has put a dent in the wall with its repetitive knocking, a telltale slam-slam-slam that makes the both of you thankful you don't have neighbors.

Fuck, you were acting like horny teenagers; drunk off each other's scent and the sheen of bliss—there just wasn't any stopping.

With the coil growing and growing, abs clenching and dog tags in your grip, Alex lets you manhandle his chin so you can shove your tongue down his throat; hands grasping around your waist to thrust up into you at a better angle.

Your eyes roll back, saliva dripping from your chins to splatter Alex's chest. His mustache burns over your lower face, but it doesn't stop you from bringing him back in, sucking and biting on his lips.

"I—" Alex shakes, groaning in between passes of your mouth and the heat on his cheeks. "Christ, S...Sweetheart, I'm gonna," his entire body is tight, dick moving even more wildly with its prodding tip grazing your cervix. Your body spasms and you cry out, cunt hugging him like it doesn't want him to leave. Slick and the score of previous rounds slap wetly as skin connects over and over, making flesh shine. A tipping point is reached with high voices and rapid lungs. "I-I'm gonna—!"

You both snap at the same time.

Alex's head goes back into the pillow, back completely leaving the bed in an arch and cock throbbing as he spills his load inside of your wet heat with broken ruts that make him whimper. On top of his form, your entire form goes limp, legs shaking as you collapse onto your boyfriend's gasping chest with ragged breaths and feel the flood of his orgasm spreading inside of your womb.

The spend seeps out like the others, pussy completely full and pulsing; raw with the feeling of cum bubbling through the plug of Alex's cock.

Both of you try not to move, catching your respective breaths with legs spread wide and vibrating. After a long, long while where you nearly pass out from pure exhaustion, you feel Alex's chest rise fast for a moment. You peek a slow eye and groan as your boyfriend starts laughing.

Your mouth releases a low whine as his dick jumps inside of your clutch and Alex also winces moments later.

"...Fuck, Doll." Lips quirking, a sweaty hand finds your spine, and fingers tap against the vertebrae in broken intervals of shakes. You practically purr like a cat as the hoarse voice rasps out, "You, uh, you sure know how to welcome a guy home, huh?"

#halcyone answers #cod #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty #x female reader #alex keller x reader #alex keller x you #alex keller #modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #alex keller cod #modern warfare x you #modern warfare x reader #cod smut #x reader smut #call of duty smut

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lxvvie · 6 months

Text

A relationship with Alex Keller would consist of the following (some points refer to this list):

Keller recognizing his attraction for you right off the jump. He spends some time planning his next move (that is, asking you out on a date) accordingly. Drinks on him, yeah?

Realizing that while others sometimes tend to view Soap as the pretty boy, Keller actually is the pretty boy. He has just as many, if not more, products than you do, especially for his hair.

Trying your best not to jump his bones every time he calls you "Boss." Bonus points if he winks after doing so.

Getting lost in those stormy eyes of his. Will also use them to great effect so beware.

Touching foreheads more often than not. Yeah, Alex loves making out with you, make no mistake about it, Boss, but it's something about your foreheads pressed together that hits differently.

Your love language revolving around trading barbs and jokes, especially when it comes to the cereal he likes. And he likes cereal. Keller tends to clutch his chest in mock pain when you joke about how mid his choices are.

Flirting via pick-up lines. Mostly on your end. You know it's good when Alex chuckles. You know it's great when he bursts into fucking laughter.

Calling him "Babe" when he calls you "Boss". You later dub your relationship "BossBabe". Alex will usually roll his eyes and/or groan every time you say it.

Loving when he manspreads on the couch because not only is it sexy as all hell, but you can use his juicy thighs lap as a footrest.

This goes double if he's only in his boxers.

Being one of the few people who’s seen Alex with his hair down.

Finding out you both tend to keep secrets from each other. How so you might ask? Well, you and Alex always agree to watch whatever show piques your interest together but you also tend to watch them by yourselves beforehand. Usually results in a stare-off of judgemental proportions. Oh, so when you do it, you're "gathering intel" but when he does it, he's "cheating"?

Compromising with him on keeping you two's place at a reasonable temperature because if Keller had it his way, it'd be a damn ice-box. Thank goodness for all the blankets you keep stored around the place, yeah?

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anjelagarrick · 10 months

Text

comfort of a laugh track

alex keller x reader

summary: alex relishes the time he gets to share with you after being put on medical leave.

tags: ptsd, losing limbs, trauma recovery, established relationship, fluff with angst, clingy! alex, sharing a bed, sharing clothes, just two idiots in love, self deprecation

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ALEX BREATHES SLOWLY, his exhale fanning over the bare skin of your shoulder. You’re fast asleep, completely unaware of him still being awake in the early hours of the morning. Alex had a habit of sitting and pondering, it was both a comfort and also a curse. He hated silence, but sometimes he hated his thoughts even more; he certainly didn’t want to wake you for petty comfort over practically nothing. Of course, you’d insist that any discomfort was worth soothing away with gentle touches and hushed kisses behind closed doors, but Alex knows his mind, he can fight the creeping bile that sits in his sternum as he closes his eyes.

It truly never feels real, how he almost died, how he lost his leg; how he almost left you behind despite always promising he’d come home to you. Alex’s eyes open again, and he’s in his home; in bed, arms wrapped around you. He isn’t on a battlefield, bleeding out somewhere, nor on a medical gurney with an oxygen mask over his mouth and nose. Leaning forward, his sweaty forehead presses to your cool shoulder, facial hair slightly tickling you as you shuffle, taking a soft, sleepy breath. Alex waits for you to soothe again before moving, lips kissing your shoulder ever so gently before he nuzzles his face into the back of your neck. Holding you felt so surreal, like he was holding love itself- that ignited feeling never went away, and Alex knows he doesn’t want it to. He wants to love you forever.

Your hand presses over his, thumb running over his knuckles as you hum softly. “Go back to sleep.” He whispers, voice scratchy and coarse due to lack of use. “What’s the matter?” You stifle a yawn, leaning your back against his chest. “It’s nothing, hon. Just rest, yeah? You’ve got a busy day tomorrow.” Alex kisses behind your ear, turning his hand to thread his fingers between yours. You hum again, rolling over in his arms, letting your own arms curl around his middle as you bury your head under his chin. “You can always talk to me, baby. We’re in this together.” You croon, kissing his collarbone so gently he barely felt it. “I know, I just want you to rest for now. I know you’ve been stressed. It’s not easy having a crippled boyfriend.” Alex laughs, it’s strained.

You frown. “You’re not an inconvenience, so don’t even try that all that talk with me.” You scold, softly hitting his back. “Sorry.” Alex exhales; as tired as he is, he doesn’t want to close his eyes. “We’re in this together, baby. I promised you i’d always be here.” You let your hand move from his back, slowly massaging his tricep, just under his elbow. “I know, honey. I… I’m really thankful, for you… for the team. This hasn’t been easy. I can still feel my leg sometimes- it throws me off.” Alex finally closes his eyes, taking a small breath. “I know it’s not easy, love. But you’re strong, you’ve been doing so well at adjusting. You can do this.” You assure him, moving your head to press a kiss to his upper lip. Alex immediately chases you as you pull away, kissing you properly. “Thank you, baby.” He mutters, hand rubbing soft circles over your hip. “Of course..! I’ll always be here for support.” You coo, nose brushing against his gently. “Whether it’s in the middle of the night, in public or private; or even if you call me on the job. I’ll never abandon you.”

Alex smiles, warmth collected in his chest. “I love you, hon. You mean the world to me.” His voice rumbles a little in his chest due to the low volume, you hum softly in return. “I love you too, Alex.” You respond, kissing him again. “Are you going to try and sleep?” You ask, hand moving from his arm to cup his cheek, thumb rubbing against his cheekbone as your other fingers massage his jaw. Alex exhales softly, loving how your fingertips feel against his face. “I dunno, doll.” He mumbles. “That’s okay, baby. We can have some hot chocolate and maybe put on a movie?” You suggest, pulling away from his embrace as you sit up. “You need rest, baby.” He reminds you with a frown. It’s true, you were exhausted, but caring for your boyfriend in a hard time was your number one priority.

“It’s fine, hon. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable or upset.” You get up, pulling one of Alex’s shirts up over your head. Alex sits up, watching you in the dim light that seeped through the curtains. He knows he can’t say anything to convince you to get back into bed, watching as you saunter from the bedroom, turning on the hall light as you went. Shaking his head, Alex leans over, grasping his crutches. Slowly moving his leg over the bed, his foot hits the floor- he almost feels sick as his stump hangs off the bed. Taking a deep breath, Alex stands, leaning his weight upon the crutches. It was certainly difficult- he was embarrassed to be in public as he ambled so slowly beside you, yet you’d only smile patiently as you held open doors and rested a comforting hand upon his back. He didn’t deserve you.

Slowly, he moves his crutches forward before taking another step, then another, then another. It’s a very slow process, but he’s getting better at it. The kitchen light is on, and Alex takes a soft breath. The small apartment you two lived in felt like a massive mansion due to how long it would take Alex to get room to room. As he steps forward, his foot slips, back hitting the floor with a harsh thud as his crutches clutter to the ground. With a defeated sigh, Alex tries to blink away tears- he felt useless. “Baby, are you alright?!” You stress, kneeling beside him, hand gently touching his head. “Yeah- sorry… just slipped is all.” Alex sighs, staring at the ceiling above. “Oh, Alex…” you whisper, wiping the corners of his eyes gently. “I’m sorry.” He responds on instinct- he’d been doing that a lot recently. “Don’t be. Come on, let’s get you up.” Slowly, you help Alex up, having him lean upon the wall as you grab one of his crutches. “Lean on this,” you hand him the crutch, letting him slowly lean his weight upon it as you retrieve the other.

“I feel like such a burden.” Alex huffs out a bitter laugh, watching you frown. “No, you’re not. Not to me.” You kiss his cheek, resting a hand upon his back as he slowly tries walking again. Slowly, he finally eases himself onto the couch, sighing softly. “Stay right here, hon. I’ll finish making our drinks.” Leaning down, you kiss his cheeks, cradling his head for a second before pulling away. Alex slumps into the cushions with defeat. He missed going on runs, it was one of his favourite things to do in the mornings, but now he could barely walk to the kitchen without needing you to help him. “How pathetic…” he muses bitterly, glaring at the stump where his full leg once was. “So fucking stupid- why did I let this happen?” Clenching his right fist, Alex takes a deep breath- slowly trying to release the guilt from his chest.

“Alex, baby. Are you alright?” You ask, sitting beside him as you hand him a freshly hot mug. “Yeah, m’fine.” He breathes out, hand tangling into yours as you rest your mug upon your thigh, grabbing the tv remote. “What do you feel like watching?” You ask, head resting against his shoulder. “I don’t mind, baby. You choose.” Alex responds, closing his eyes. He’s back in that damn place again, jaw clenched- head spinning, Farah is there, helping him- trying to bring him back to consciousness. He can feel his leg, it hurts- “Alex.” You pat his shoulder a little, he opens his eyes. He’s on the couch with you, your eyes are worried. “Are you okay?” You ask softly, hand lingering upon his shoulder, thumb smoothing his creased shirt as he breathes. “Yeah. I’m all good, baby. Just… remembering things.” He responds, blinking a few times. “Try to focus on the tv, baby. Just relax.” You kiss his jaw softly, ignoring how his beard scratches your face as you settle against him. Alex throws a spare arm around your shoulders, squeezing you close as his other hand holds his mug, resting it upon the thigh of his mostly missing leg.

As Alex sits in thought, mostly thoughts full of self deprecating words and loathing himself, he’s brought back by you; you’re just shuffling to get a little more comfortable, but it alerts him of his surroundings again. He’s in home, he can see you, feel you, smell the jasmine incense you’re always burning throughout the day as you adored the smell, as well as insisting that it promoted happiness and would help Alex relax. Alex exhales, it’s slow- soothing. Taking a sip of his hot chocolate, he watches the old sitcom rerun you had found on one of the channels, relishing the comfort of a laugh track.

#alex keller #alex keller x reader #mw2 alex #alex keller x you #alex mw2 #mw2 x reader #mw2022 #mw2 2022 #mw2 x you #mw2 imagine #| anjela wrote this 🕯️#// alex my beloved 😭🫶🫶#// my underrated boy 🫶

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