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ohtobeleah · 1 year

Note

it’s against orders. But he also doesn’t ask either….

The amount of times I listened to Adele’s Hello while daydreaming Hawk running down the halls is just ridiculous— it’ll be in my next years Spotify wrapped… but like, try it. It’s worth it. ANYWAY, thankyou for being so patient with me this week, I’ve been fighting some major writers block. As always—here the To Have & To Hold series Masterlist

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

“The Tomahawk impact alone should completely decimate the enemy runaway.” You looked over the terrain of the enemy airfield map in the war room with admirals Beau and Bates and Pete Mitchell. “You’re looking at total annihilation, I’d bet good money that only a select percentage of pilots would be stupid enough or crazy enough to manoeuvre an aircraft off the runaway after we’re done with it.” The plan was simple—give the chosen pilots enough of a head start so that by the time enemy pilots had scrambled their jets? Your pilots would be touching down safely back on the carrier. “I don’t think you’ll have a problem with enemy aircraft intercepting unless they’re already in the air, that however—I can’t be much assistance with.”

“You’ve done a great job Lieutenant Commander Seresin.” Admiral Beau praised you for your knowledge and dedication to the detachment. “I’ll be sure to make the appropriate calls if all is successful.” It had been something in the cards for some time now, another promotion. Ever since you and Jake had broken up you’d thrown yourself into your work. Deciding that rising through the ranks was a better alternative then letting yourself slip into a hole you couldn’t drag yourself out if.

You were in disbelief when you actually made Lieutenant Commander. It felt all too surreal, you’d been acknowledged for your work on the Heasmen project. You had been the overseeing analyst on a covert operation that saw the United States Navy and Marine Corps deploy armed forces over and under enemy waters to provide support and aid for those seeking refuge and asylum. It had been your idea to utilise the resources that submarines held. Deep diving to monitor suspicious vessels. The Australian Navy had provided immense assistance, along with New Zealand. It had been the biggest operation you’d worked on, especially with such a high stakes roll. But this special detachment? This took that cake for high stakes. Ten fold.

“Thankyou Lieutenant Commander, that will be all.” Admiral Beau dismissed you as quickly as he’d requested your assistance in explaining an in depth analysis of your final report. Collecting your papers you pressed your lips together and nodded in agreement that you’d been dismissed. “Oh and Seresin one more thing before you go.”

“Yes sir?” You stood to attention, knowing your place.

“I wouldn’t let your husband dictate your next career advancement, Jake Seresin is a fine pilot but you my dear, are an exceptional analyst that the finest commanders at Navcon would fight over to have you on their service.”

“Will that be all Admiral?” You didn’t really know how to properly process what Admiral Beau had just said. If you were honest with yourself you would have asked for his justification. But you held your tongue, knowing that to start a war with your superiors now would be a disservice to your career.

“As you were Hawkeye.” Cyclone almost shooed you out of the room, his attention immediately turning back to Admiral Bates and Captain Mitchel the second he was finished addressing you.

With a heavy sigh you closed the door to the war room behind you. Jake had been waiting for you outside, just down the hall a little. Sending him a soft smile you waved his way as he tilted his head up at the sound of the door clicking shut.

“You don’t have anything better to do than to wait around for me Lieutenant Seresin?” Since stepping onto the carrier you’d been in work mode. Formal titles, ranks, appropriate greetings and dismissals. You were the definition of prim and proper, a walking talking propaganda poster girl for the US Navy if there had ever been one.

“What else is there to do on this tin can other than to grovel at my wife’s feet.” Jake however? Well he’d been the same as always. Irritating and infuriating. For the past four days he’d been giving you the space you had asked him for. The time you needed to process the idea that you might be the third person on Jake's priority list. The first being his unborn child, the second of course the mothers child. But as much as it pained you to admit at least this time you had made it into the top five. “Feel like I haven’t seen you at all these past few days.”

“I’ve been working—“ Jake was hot on your tail as midshipmen and other ranking sailors stepped aside for you as you made your way down the hall. Thanking them softly everytime you noticed.

“So you haven’t been avoiding me?” Jake asked as his hand slipped around your hip to help guide you into your office. It wasn’t all that big, more the size of a broom closet than a war room—but it was enough.

“I said I've been working.” You teased as you slapped Jake's hands away from where it had briefly made its home on your hip. “I didn’t say what on—actively avoiding you is harder than it appears, Lieutenant.”

“So you’re still mad at me then?” Jake mumbled under his breath as he watched you walk around to your desk and plop down with a frustrated huff. “You’re gonna have to talk to me sooner or later.”

“Jake I’m not mad at you hun.” You explain as you sat back in your chair, swinging around to face your husband. “I just need to compartmentalise and focus on this mission before I focus on the fact you might be a father.”

“I’m telling you now, if I’m a dad I want a sample of my sperm sent off to a lab somewhere because those little guys are the key to world salvation.” You couldn’t help but to laugh as Jake dropped down to his knees to match your height as you sat on your chair. “I’m not denying I had inadequate relations with her, baby I’m an open book—anything you wanna know I’ll tell you but you gotta believe me when I say I never came, I wore protection and I was inside her for a total of one single minute.”

“You’d still manage under the circumstances—“ There had been something you’d been thinking about over the last few days that had been keeping you up at night. In all your time with Jake Seresin he’d never managed to get you pregnant. You weren’t currently on birth control and you certainly hadn’t been careful when it came to Jake since being in North island together. Nor had you been actively preventing anything prior to your marriage breakdown. So it begged the question, what was wrong with you? “You’d find a way–”

“I promise I'll take the DNI test as soon as this is all over with yeah?” Jake cupped your face as he gently planted a supple kiss against your lips. You hummed in response to the warmth his lips brought to yours. “But I already know it's not a match, Mrs Seresin.”

“I'd prefer to keep an open mind until the facts are presented in front me.” You let your forehead rest against Jakes as the pads of his thumbs gently ran across your cheeks.

“Great, so that means you can stop actively avoiding me at all costs and actually come grab a coffee in the galley with me?” Jake beamed that cheeky smile he’d had since you’d first met him all those years ago. It felt like a lifetime ago–the bracer-having, socially awkward underdog who’d stalk your locker in the morning in hopes he’d get to share a quick hello with you. It felt like you’d jump realities and landed in an alternative universe. Jake Seresin was no longer the socially awkwards bracer-having kid who stalked your locker. But he was still the love of your life.

“I know it probably seems like an excuse, but I really can’t– I have to submit my reports to Navcon.” Jake let his head fall as a solemn sigh escaped his chest. Standing to his feet with a dramatic groan, Jake eyed you down. “I'm serious.”

“You know there's a real possibility I could be going on this mission tomorrow, right?” The silence that fell between you felt as heavy as ever. Thick and all consuming as your heart raced at the very thought. Nodded as you stood to wrap your arms around your husband's waist. He let out a soft oof at the connection your affection brought before he reciprocated the gesture. Kissing the top of your head as his arms came up to wrap around your shoulders.

“I know, so that's why I want you to come to my cabin tonight.” Jake couldn't help the almost gasp he exclaimed. There were perks that came with your job title and subsequent rank. One of those perks being your own living quarters aboard carriers and frigates. “After dinner, bring your overnight bag.”

“Look at you, miss prim and proper.” Jake had noticed early on during this deployment how much your attitude had changed. Everything was by the book from the second you stepped onto the carrier. But this? This was very not so by the book of you. “There's a strict no fraternisation policy–”

“Okay, fine–” You pulled away with a smirk. “Invitation revoked, that will be all Lieutenant you can–” Before you could finish your sentence Jake was pulling you into him by your waist as he crashed his lips against yours. It felt desperate, needy, loving.

“I'll be there after dinner, yeah?” You nodded in response. “Hope you like a good spoon Hawkeye, those beds aren't standard issue singles.” Jake teased as you pushed him gently towards your door. “Alright, alright, I'm going, I'm going.” With one final kiss to your cheek Jake left you standing in your office alone, sneaking out into the hallways as discreetly as he possibly could. There was a strict no fraternisation policy that did extend to husband and wife. You two were no exception to the rule while onboard.

“Hey Hangman!” You shouted down the hall after Jake, turning back to look at you with a loving look in his eye he gave to only two women in his life. His mother and you. “You look good!” Jake chuckled as he looked down at himself, he was just in his flight suit. Nothing special except the small golden heart pin he wore over his heart. A symbolic gesture some men liked to wear whenever they couldn't wear their wedding bands. Jake however, had his tattooed, but he just wanted everyone to know that you held his heart.

“I am good Hawkeye, I'm always good.”

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

Jake stood next to Bradley in the line for food at the pass. Two options were on the menu, sausages and mash or lentil curry with naan. Barely looked at Jake and Jake looked at Bradley, both silently agreeing to get one serving of each option and go halves.

“You talk to Chaos yet?” Jake asked as he walked with Rooster to the nearest empty seats available side by side.

“She made her point, wouldn’t want to drag her down now would I?” Rooster muttered as he slid his tray along the table. Sitting with a thud as Jake frowned. It had been four days since he’d spoken to her.

“You know she only said that stuff to keep you safe right?” Jake explained as he dug into his curry. “You know, you and Chaos are probably two of the most dysfunctional couples I’ve ever met.” Rooster couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“I’m sorry? Coming from you!? Jesus Hangman guys in glass houses—“

“Should throw bigger stones.” Jake cut Rooster off with a quick witted comeback. “Look, I know me and Hawk have had it rough—but I’ve never treated her like she wasn’t my problem.” Rooster listened as Jake reached over for a spoonful of mash. “She’s a pain in the arse man but she’s always been and always will be, my pain in the arse.”

“I don’t see Hawkeye telling Mav to not consider you as a candidate.” Jake verbally scoffed as he choked on his potato. Laughing because that’s exactly what you had done. “What?”

“Funny you mention it man—she did, she told him to his face before Bob and Chaos went down with that bird strike, said something along the lines of if he chose me for this mission and I didn’t come back she’d blame him.” Rooster couldn’t believe what he was hearing as Jake spoke with a mouthful of food. “She played the mental mind fuck, knows he already blames himself for one persons death, was he really willing to double it—like I said, she’s my pain in the arse.” Rooster watched as Jake shrugged it off. Digging into his dinner like he had somewhere to be.

“Yeah, but she didn’t say you weren’t ready—“ Rooster hadn’t been able to swallow his own pride for five minutes to just think clearly for a moment. Jake knew that, he’d been there.

“Well would you have listened if she said the truth?” You’d told Jake to his face time and time again what had been a contributing factor, if not the most pinocol point of your marriage breakdown and he still hadn’t listened. He knew if Chaos had just told the truth about how she didn’t want Rooster going just so she had peace of mind? He would have shrugged it off and reassured her everything would be okay—a promise he was in absolutely no position to make. “No, you wouldn’t have.”

“Why don’t you focus on your own relationship problems—“ Rooster groaned as he pushed his tray away. “Dude, I’m not even hungry now.” Jake just laughed softly as the pair sat amongst the crew of the Leyte Gulf.

“Just talk to her, you’ll regret it if you don’t and something goes south.” With a quick pay to the shoulder, Jake was pushing himself out of his seat, standing as he eyed Rooster down. “She loves you, I understand why she wouldn’t want you on his mission—she just buried her dad Bradshaw, she’s probably scared beside herself wondering if she’ll have to bury you too.”

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

“Are you sure this is okay?” As Jake had mentioned earlier, the beds aboard the Leyte Gulf were not designed for two fully grown adults. But you found a compromise where you could. “I can always move–”

“This is perfect hun.” Jake wasn't oblivious to the pet name you’d so effortlessly called him earlier in the afternoon. “I’m as comfortable as I’m gonna get in this tiny ass bed, at least I’m sharing it with you.” Jake was lying on his back, you? You laid with your head on his chest, legs falling between his as you drew absent minded non identifiable shapes into his exposed shoulder. “What about you? Are you good?”

“I'm as good as ever.” You yawned out a soft hum in response. “Just not feeling all that great about what may come tomorrow.” There was a sudden change in gears that Jake felt the need to discuss while he had you here against him. His arms wrapped around you, the entire world in the palms of his hands.

“Uh, yeah about that–'' He didn't know how to bring up the topic lightly, so Jake thought just ripping the bandaid off would be more sufficient instead of beating around the bush. “If something does happen, I just want you to know that you're the sole beneficiary of my last will and testament.” You knew you had continued to be Jake's emergency contact through your separation, but you thought for sure he would have taken you out of his will. All naval aviators were required by the institution they worked for to have a living will. Incase of the worst case scenario. “I never changed it.”

“What about your parents?” You asked as you held back tears, it was already too late though, Jake could feel them falling against his sternum. “I'm sure you could have written them into it.”

“That's the fun thing about making a will love, I decide who gets all my assets.” Jake held you just a little bit tighter as he spoke. “Never doubted I wanted everything to go to you if I met an untimely demise.” You couldn't hold back the softest of chuckles at how morbid this conversation had become. You had reached a whole new level of pillow talk. “So if something happens, which it won’t, just know–that all that I am, all that I have, I have because of you and I wouldn't want that to go unknown.”

“I want to so desperately believe nothing will happen but I just have such a bad feeling in the pit of my gut that this just isn't going to go well.” You sobbed as you crawled up Jake's chest a little in search of his lips. Pressing your against his lovingly. “You promise me, nothing reckless, nothing but by the book you hear me Seresin?”

“I promise–” Jake kissed you back as he flipped you onto your back. His lips never leaving yours as his hands roamed your body, ridding you of your sleep shirt as your fingers snapped back the elastic of his boxer briefs. “I have every intention of coming home to you.”

“Jake–” You moaned almost angelically as his lips trialled from yours to your neck. The exposed supple skin sensitive to his butterfly like kisses turned something more hungry and lust filled. “Baby–”

“I love you so much Mrs’ Seresin.” Jake's assault on your neck continued down the valley of your breasts. “You are the love of my life, my entire world.” Sweet nothings were escaping every chance they got whenever Jake's lips left your skin. Knees bent either side of his body as he shimmied further down the bed closer to your core. “I wouldn't mind my last meal being you.” He teased as you pushed at his shoulder with a scoff. Watching as he lurched forward at you to kiss your lips again. Smiling and laughing against one another as your hands cupped his cheeks.

“I love you so much.” You beamed as he wiped fallen tears from your cheeks. So worried about the unknown of tomorrow. For a moment Jake just drank in the sight of you, committing you to his memory for later when he might have to face a harsh reality. He’d do anything to be a love or a sacrifice. Knowing just how much you cared, how much you truly loved him though? Had Jake Seresin questioning everything he ever knew about flying. He'd been reckless before and he'd lost you before. He wasn't willing to gamble you again. Not a chance.

“I love you so much more.”

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

You made a decision earlier that morning that you didn't want to be present for when Mav made his choices for his foxtrot teams and Chaos’s wingman. You didn't want Jake to see you crumble in the event he was chosen. That's what would've inevitably happened. There was no possible way your knees wouldn't have buckled and your heart would have stopped beating if you heard his name called out as he stood amongst his fellow peers.

You'd woken up in each other's arms, Jake was more than reluctant to let you go when your alarm sounded at the ass crack of dawn. He watched you with hooded eyes as you slowly but surely sunk down on him- taking his length in your mouth before completely disappearing under the covers.

He promised to return the favour when all of this was over, a promise he swore by just as seriously as he swore by the fact there was no more wiggle room to play hero. It was get in and get out. Play by the book time.

Jake wasn't going to deny to anyone that when he wasn't chosen that it didn't hurt. Sure, he'd specifically asked not to be chosen–but to know his superiors thought he wasn't the best did sting just a little. There was still a major part of him that considered himself to be the best at what he did, so when he wasn't called upon? That was a hit to the ego he’d have to take on the chin.

“What's the verdict Lieutenant?” You asked as you heard heavy footsteps approaching on the flight deck of the aircraft carrier. You’d snuck out of the bridge with a cup of camomile tea to calm your nerves. Looking over the railing at the vast ocean you sailed across. Not a wave in sight. It was oddly eerie–like the calm before the storm.

“Dagger Spare, Lieutenant Commander Seresin.” Jake stood behind you as he held his shoulders tall and puffed his chest. You took a small sip of your tea before you turned against the wind to face him. You felt like you could breathe again for the first time in weeks. The unknown still lingered in the background but at least your husband wasn't chosen specifically. You could manage him being a spare. In most cases a spare was never used, they were just there so that protocol could be met if in the event something unfortunate were to happen. A spare never left the ground, admirals were always hesitant to send more fighter pilots into action after events turned.

“Is this the first time in your career you haven't been the best at something, Hangman?” You asked sincerely as you held your coffee mug full of tea between your palms.

“I specifically remember a certain someone threatening my Captain.” Jake chuckled as he held out his hand, balling it into a fist as you connected his knuckles with yours. First bumping the reality that had been Jake Seresin accepting he wasn't the best at everything. “But, yeah i think so–well, if i'm gonna start a steak here I'll admit right now I probably haven't been the best husband on earth.” You both laughed together for a brief moment before you saw Chaos and Bob talking out of the corner of your eye.

“You should probably go talk to Chaos, she looks a little spooked.”

“Chaos and spooked don't coexist in the same sentence Hawk.” Jake beamed as he tucked his flight helmet under his arm, resting it against his torso. “But yeah, I'll go talk to her.” Jake knew he had to fix whatever burning bridge was left with Chaos before it was too late. Lead by example for Roosters sake. He wasn't even sure if Bradley had pulled his thumb out enough to talk to the women who held his heart. “I'll see you when this is all over, yeah?” Jake's eyes lingered on you as you nodded in response. Embracing you as you did him.

“Don't you ever forget that in my book? You’ll always be the best there is, Hangman.'' It meant more than you could ever know, considering you’d left him once before because he couldnt put his ego aside for one second to see his actions were killing you. “Come back to me in one piece.”

“Go show em why they call you Hawkeye.” Jake whispered before he let you go, kissing your forehead one more time before he turned away. “Love you for infinity baby!”

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

It was all a whirlwind as you stood back from the commotion that was the bridge. Admirals and officials, commanding officers and operations specialists were all working in tandem overseeing the mission that held incredibly high steaks. You couldn’t really hear the commotion going on around you because the thoughts of existential dread that filled your head ping ponged like rouge Thoughts of what ifs and

“Dagger spare, standing by.” Jake's voice came through the comms and suddenly you were thrown into the mix again. The weight of the world fell on your shoulders as you stepped up beside the admirals and listened to all the daggers confirm their positions before launching off the aircraft carrier one by one. Before? Everything had felt like it was playing out before you in slow motion—but now? It felt like someone had just pressed fast forward on an old video tap.

“How are the nerves Lieutenant Commander?” Admiral Bates asked as he watched you cautiously swallowed the lump in your throat. Nodding briefly you responded under your breath—you were both meant to be silent, paying attention to your surroundings.

“Uh, once I know those Tomahawks successfully destroy the base I’ll be peachy keen, sir.”

“I can tell just by the way you're standing Hawkeye that you’re not where you want to be.” You hadn’t had all that many interactions with Admiral Bates up until the point. Any time you’d ever been in a briefing you had spoken directly to Admiral Beau. Solomon would be there, however he reminded you of a wallflower. He’d just read the terrain and soak up all the information he could like a sponge. “You feel like you’re supposed to be somewhere else.”

“Dagger attack—“ You both heard Chaos confirm over the radio, within a millisecond of her voice echoing through the bridge the tomahawks you’d been the brains behind were launching in specifically orchestrated positions.

“Hmm—“ You learned your throat as you turned a little more on your heels to face Solomon Bates. “You said it.”

“Well, say you could snap your fingers and be wherever you wanted to be, I bet you’d still feel this way? Not in the right place.” To a certain degree Admiral Bates had been right. If there was a place you’d rather be right now it would be down on the tarmac with your husband. But even being by his side wouldn’t wash away the pain of worrying if he’d be called upon as a spare. Sure, it wasn’t all that likely—but you’d been chewing your tongue long enough to draw blood at just thought. “My point is you can’t get so hung up on where you’d rather be that you forget how to make the most of where you are.”

“Thirty seconds to tomahawk impact on enemy airstrip.” One of the operations specialists confirmed as he watched the radar screen. “Tomahawk impact in, three, two—“ You held your breath as you watched the satellite image from the enemy airfield blow up into smithereens as the Tomahawks exploded one after the other. “We have impact! Enemy runway is destroyed!” The entire bridge cheered and turned their attention towards you as he felt an immense amount of pride wash over you.

“Live a little Lieutenant Commander Seresin, you probably just scored yourself a ticket into the big leagues.” Solomon was the first to congratulate the success of the tomahawk strike by offering you his hand. Taking it firmly, you shook for a few seconds. “I look forward to seeing what else you can bring to the table.” The surprising offer of a promotion quickly became a second thought once the daggers had reached the straight away. All eyes had turned back to the monitors and radios that took you everything anyone ever needed to know. That the mission was so far so good.

But nothing ever really lasts forever now does it? everything that you’d been celebrating came crashing down around your feet moments after it had been confirmed that a direct hit had been made on the uranium enrichment plant. You felt like your feet had been glued to the floor as you listened to the Chaos ensuing around you.

Chaos had been hit by a surface to air missile. You hadn’t known your heart could hurt so badly for another person ever in your life as you listened to Rooster panic and repeat the same question over and over again.

“Dagger One, do you copy!?” You weren't afraid to let your tears stream down your cheeks as you moved closer to the monitor. “Do you copy?” Listening to Bradley beg Chaos for a response of any kind made you want to throw up. How did things go so wrong?

“Get them back to the carrier, now—“ Admiral Beau ordered as operations officers jumped to his demand.

“All daggers flow to ECP, you have bandits headed for you.”

“What about Chaos!” Rooster shouted when he’d heard his direct orders coming from the bridge.

“Tell him there’s nothing he can do for Chaos! Not in a goddamn F-18!” Admiral Beau had grown impatient with insubordination, that was clear as day. Especially after Chaos had stolen a miti million dollar F-18 and taken it for a fuck you lap around the simulation course. But it was what you heard next that had you whipping around fast enough to give yourself whiplash. Jake's voice loud and clear over the comms.

“Dagger spare requesting permission to launch and fly aircover.” Your eyes were as wide as ever and full of tears as you turned to Admiral Beau. He was thinking about it, but only a millisecond of time. Shaking his head at you, he knew you were holding in a reluctant breath.

“Negative spare.” One of the Operational officers confirmed the negative status from behind where you stood glued to the floor. Everything had come crashing down so dramatically and within the blink of an eye. The bridge that had already been chaotic and hectic has become even more so now that you had a pilot down.

“Launch search and rescue—“ Admiral Bates tried to persuade Cyclone but again it had been to no avail.

“But sir, Chaos is still out there?” Shocked that Admiral Beau would willingly leave her behind so easily without a second thought truly took you aback. “She could be alive, she has to be sir– this is Chaos we’re talking about.”

“We are not losing anyone else today!” He shouted at you as you flinched back in shock. Not expecting that kind of response. “Lieutenant Kazanksy made her bed, now she can sleep in it alone.”

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

Jake Seresin had never been a team player. He'd never played well with others and he always had to be the best at everything he did. He got that attribute from his father–nothing he ever did was good enough, so pushing the boundaries of what greatness was had truly become a grey area. Jake knew no boundaries for just how high his ego could fly until you had clipped his wings and stolen his heart in one foul swoop.

He’d been sitting in the cockpit of his F-18 just listening to the whitenoise that had been Admiral Beau barking orders left and right and you giving him a little attitude. Jake hadnt taken it well when he’d been given a negative response to his request to fly aircover, so much so he refused to leave his cockpit until there was further information on the whereabouts of Rooster and Chaos from satellite imaging.

Rooster had gone after chaos without a second thought, Jake knew the moment that he was giving even a sliver of hope that they were alive he’d be taking off in search of them. Fuck direct orders, those were his people. His friends and colleagues. Jake Seresin also knew what he was risking when he’d committed to that decision. He sat in his cockpit rubbing the tattooed wedding band that wrapped around his ring finger praying to whatever god would be willing to hear him if something were to happen to him? That you’d be okay in a life after him.

“You gonna get out or are you just gonna sit there?” Phoenix asked as she approached Jake F-18, jumping up onto the wing as Bob stood on the tarmac. Both him and Fanboy looked beyond defeated. It wasn't supposed to end like this, only two daggers returning instead of four. It was meant to be all or nothing. “Hangman?”

“Im going after them–”

“Jake, they both went down in enemy territory.” Natasha tried to be the voice of reason. “There's no one left to go after.” They hadn’t long touched down after having followed their direct orders. “It would be another suicide mission to go after them now, Bradshaw–he wouldnt have wanted to live in a world without Choas.” Jake could hear Phoenix speaking, he saw her lips moving and her expressions twisting. But he wasn't listening, his mind was already made up. “If you need to find solace in something let it be that, at least they're together now.”

“Promise me that if I don't make it back you'll make sure Y/n doesn't blame herself.” Natasha wasn't blind to the look in Jake's eyes. “She’s everything I have Nix but I gotta do this to prove to myself I'm on the team, I’m not just on the outskirts looking in–” Phoenix didnt know how to respond as Jake cleared his throat. “Get Coyote to stop her from doing anything stupid if she try’s something.”

“Whos’ meant to stop you?”

“No one Phoenix, no one can stop me.”

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

“Sir, we’re receiving a signal from Roosters ESAT—but there seems to be a malfunction.” You’d somewhat tuned out until you heard one of the Operations Specialist interject as he watched his monitor light up with a signal showing Roosters symbols.

“Have you lost him?” You asked as you stepped up behind him, frowning as you locked eyes with Rooster ESAT.

“No, he’s supersonic—“

“He’s airborne.” Admiral Bates raised his brows in shock as he turned to Beau who shared a look of confusion just as much as you did. He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

“In what?” He asked, almost scoffing at the thought. You were both thinking the same thing–there was only one person who could have taken off from a cratered airfield. Chaos kazansky.

“Sir, overwatch reports an F-14 Tomcat is airborne and on course for our position.” Something sunk in the pit of your stomach as you noticed Jake's radio signal had cut out. You knew your husband well enough to know he was irrational at the best of times, but was he really about to do what you thought he was?

“It can't be.” Admiral Bates shook his head as he tried to wrap his head around what was happening. “It just can’t be–”

“Chaos—“ You mumbled under your breath as you snatched one of the handheld radios from the bridge. “Permission to leave the bridge sir?”

“On what ground?” Admiral Beau asked as he held the bridge of his nose and let his hand fall to his hip. A sigh so dramatic left his mouth as you stood before him about ready to crumble into a mission pieces. Just about ready to lose your composure.

“Living a little–sir.” You replied and got a small chuckle from Admiral Bates in response. You didn't wait for Beau to pick his jaw off the ground before you took off running out of the bridge into the hall at a speed equivalent to what you thought Usan Bolt ran at. You needed to get to Jake before he did anything stupid.

“Lieutenant Seresin!” You shouted into the radio as you ran as fast as you could, bumping into sailors and crew members as you barrelled uncontrollably down every flight of stairs, every hallway you needed to take. Not caring who or what was in your way. “This is a direct order! Do not engage! I repeat, you are not clear for takeoff!”

You knew it was a pointless task but you had to be able to tell yourself you tried to stop him. Jake had unplugged his radio signal for one reason and one reason only. There was only one person who could talk him out of this, and that person was you.

“Jake, no don't do this!” You barrelled out the door onto the deck of the carrier, locking eyes on his F-18 that was just now getting ready for take off. You’d convinced yourself you could make the distance if you really put the pedal to the metal. Pocketing the radio as you raced down the stairs and made a direct line for the runway. Coyote though, well he had another idea, intercepting you just before you could jump the safety barrier.

“He’s made up his mind Lieutenant Commander, I can't let you go.” Coyote had wrapped his arms around your waist and picked you off the ground kicking and screaming. Phoenix just buried her head in Bob's shoulder. She couldn't look. “Hawk–”

“Let me fucking go!” You shouted at the top of your lungs. “Javy! He’s my husband!!” You felt like you needed to remind him as you kicked and clawed at whatever exposed skin you could. “Let me go!” You managed to wriggle your way out of Javy’s grapes just enough to overpower him for a split second, shoving him back as you climbed over the guard rail, running out into the direct line of flight Jake was about to take.

Jake was all but ready to go until he saw you standing in the middle of the runway near the very end. If he was gonna do this he’d have to look you in the eye and do it. Not behind your back. Sighing, he switched his radio on, his voice coming from your pocket.

“Get off the runway baby–” This was a personal radio call, not a professional one. Jake didn't care who could hear or where it was being broadcasted.

“Stand the fuck down Lietenant Seresin–” Jake could hear it in your voice, you were heartbroken. “I'm ordering you to stand down.”

“You're gonna have to write me up for insubordination when I get back to you, love.” Jake held back his own tears because this was never how it was supposed to end. “I love you so much–but this team? They need me.”

I need you more!” You countered as you sobbed. Holding the radio your hand shook uncontrollably. “Please, you don't have to do this.”

“I'll love you till my last breath on this earth Baby.” Jake took a deep breath as he closed his eyes for a brief moment. Letting his own tears fall because you were just so stupid for jumping that guard rail. “You make me a better man every day.” it wasn't what Jake had said that sent you spiralling but it was the crackle of your radio that let you know he’d shut it off again.

“No no no no!!” Without thinking, without hesitation and for some unknowing reason you thought running towards Jake's F-18 would stop him from taking off. It didn't. He came full speed towards you as you ran towards the Super Hornet barrelling towards you until Coyote was tackling you out of the way and Jake was flying over the top of you. “NOOO—-!!” It was the most gut wrenching sound Javy had ever heard as he held you into his chest as remnants of jet fuel fell. Using his body to shield you from the overbearing smell. “NOOOO–”

“I got you Y/n” Coyote held you close as you cried in his arms. “I got you.”

Jake circled back around the carrier to look down at you one last time. God, he loved you so much. If it weren't for you he wouldn't be doing this selfless act. He’d never known what it was like to truly be on the team before.

Now he knew for sure what it was like, and what it felt like to be a sacrifice. Thumbing the small golden heart he had pinned to his flight suit.

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

Tags: @justanothermagicalsara@alexsisrebekah@stinkyjax@starkleila@luckyladycreator2@love2write2626@shanimallina87@dempy@mintellaine@kiarabellerum31@abaker74@shadowsndaisies @haworldwidefunnyguy @peakascum@ssprayberrythings @averyhotchner

#to have & to hold // jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman x y/n #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x reader #top gun hangman fanfiction #top gun maverick x reader

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sol-consort · 3 months

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Smut for super earth! 🫡

Sir yes sir 🫡 Smut for democracy!

Launching Helldivers 2 smut in 3...2...1

C-01

[heavy smut, dom/sub, blood, slight humiliation, exhibition, penteration, aphrodisiac, objectification, use of military titles in bed, obedience kink]

[Dark themes, parody of fascism]

[Reader is a helldiver and gender neutral]

“Welcome aboard, helldiver, and great job out there” the ship master held her clipboard as she went over your mission report, “the samples you've collected will be put to great use.”

Droplets of red follow your trail as you make your way towards the ship management screen, cape drenched in blood and sticking to your body. The ship master was polite enough not to comment on the limb in your steps, or maybe it was stoic professionalism that let her ignore the shortness of your breath.

Looking over the list of new weaponry you've unlocked, it was hard to make a decision on what to spend your requisition slips on, especially with the pain in your leg. It has already been treated by the onboard ship medic and is technically service ready, but you've exhausted your government assigned monthly allowance of painkillers, and the doctor wouldn't prescribe you any.

Rations were running tight at the moment. They cut back on helldivers' luxury medical comforts in order to fund the fight for democracy and boost the research for the upcoming mech suits. Just what kind of enemies would require a mech suit when they usually throw you bare at bile titans, you wonder.

And so, having exhausted all other options, you reach inside a deep pocket under your armour and take out the stem injection. tilting your head to the side to expose your neck, with experienced hands, you quickly stab the substance right over where your vein should be.

A shudder runs through your body as waves of adrenaline quickly pass through every single one of your blood streams. Your armoured grip on the monitor almost cracks the screen, wasn't it for the reinforced glass.

Finally, as it washes down your body, a sigh of relief is all that's heard as you fix your posture. Back straight and all the pain evaporates from your leg as the stem forces your body to immediately replace the cells with new ones. Pumping the blood faster by pushing your heartbeat to the edge of the dangerous zone, tricking your immune system into thinking the damaged cells are a threat so they'd attack It faster.

With nowhere for the excess energy to go, the dosage leaves you restless. It was meant to be taken amidst a battlefield where you can find release through spreading freedom in the name of democracy at your enemies, in the shape of an RS-422 Railgun, of course.

With no shooting ranges or infiltrating enemies to take out your energy out on in the safety of your own destroyer ship. The blood rushes wherever it could go. You feel the heat pooling in different parts of your body, filling whatever place it could find.

Eventually settling between your thighs, making you hyper aware of the rough texture of the under-armour padding pressing against you. The smallest movement grinds the fabric more and more against you with every breath you take.

How sensitive your thighs suddenly feel, your how blood wasn't the only wetness seeping into your armour.

You don't make a single sound, pressing your lips tightly shut as you endure the pleasure building up. For it wasn't much different than enduring the pain of a chest wound on the battlefield while laying on the ground, holding back the waves of terminid scouts with nothing but a pistol as your teammates calls for airdrop resupply.

You've signed up your body to be given for the cause long ago, for the future of super Earth and all of its civilians. So you've learned to endure and obey all commands, like the excellent little soldier you are.

Pushing your weight off of the desk you were leaning on, you head towards the navigation map at the end of the ship.

One step after another, the pleasure intensifies. Your own legs have never felt more energised and light before despite your brain twisting every average sensation to squeeze out any resemblance of sexual gratification it could from it.

The way your under-armour hugs your body. The way the padding presses between your legs, against the inside of your thighs and right over your chest. The straps securing the metal plates to you start looking sinful.

Another step, your body is screaming at you for any relief from the overwhelming pressure building inside with nowhere to go.

A final step, and you've reached your destination. The familiar sight of the map greets you, showing super Earth in its centre with the two enemy factions creeping in from the borders of the galaxy. The automatons stick to the borderlines as their red territory crawls its way upwards the map. While the terminids are swarming towards the home planet of Lady Liberty herself at an alarming speed.

“Your fellow helldivers are fighting on the frontlines for our freedom as we stand here.” The ship's executive officer found his way to your side, looking over the dwindling liberation percentage on the yellow territory.

His orders remain unspoken, yet were orders all the same. Go join the fight.

You're not even sure if he can give you orders. Are you even the captain of your own ship? It was handed over to you alongside the armour from another Helldiver who failed to evacuate in time before the shuttle took off. Yet you haven't even met the pilot of your supposed own ship.

It's been endless missions after missions, and anything in between is spent in stasis in cryosleep. It's to prevent helldivers from being at less than their optimal physical age whilst cutting down on unnecessary costs like food rations, symptoms of traumatic experiences that rear their head during idle times, and off shore leave.

These few minutes spent at your own destroyer are the only waking moments where your fighting instincts aren't pushed to limits alongside your sanity. a glorious sacrifice to upkeep the daily privileges and rights of humans everywhere.

The democracy officer must have noticed the trembling of your fingers as you picked the next destination, the way you were squeezing your thighs together and leaning your weight against the circular map.

He must've seen this case before in many other soldiers like you. That's why you didn't question it when his hand went under your cape, wrapping around your back to help steady you. His voice took a softer tone as he ordered you to follow him.

Helping you walk and letting you lean against him made you realise how strong he must be under his uniform to be able to endure the weight of a helldiver clad in full armour. His hand kept you in place, and you didn't resist as he led you through the staff quarters. Unlocking his door with a simple face scan, you were surprised with what you saw inside.

How long has it been since you've seen a bed? And an actual bed stood here in front of you. It was nothing luxurious, the usually army manufactured steel frame with a thin white mattress above.

it looked uncomfortable, but compared to your standing cryo freezer, it looked like paradise.

“Now, I assume you know the rules and regulations set in place about fraternisation amidst ranks, helldiver?”

You were nudged towards the bed. In your current state, it didn't take much to get you tumbling over and face first onto the mattress.

“It's highly encouraged.”

To boost troops' morale and help cure homesickness or any deviation thoughts about returning to civilian life. rule C-21 was put in place to allow soldiers to aid each other when it comes to stress relief activities, no matter its nature.

Of course, like any other activity that involved sexual Intercourse with another human, it required an immediate report in the aftermath to the ministry of healthcare in the form of paperwork. In the case the activity could result In a child, an extra paperwork is in order to request a permission slip that you could forward to the ministry of population regulation in order to start your work towards getting pre-pre-approval for the right to create a child, with additional screening and tests required to pass through plus an additional wait period depending on how many other people are requesting the permission to repopulate during this year. All fall under the rule of C-01. Failure to do so might result in having the right to your reproductive organs revoked for not meeting the standards of civility expected of every loyal citizen to uphold the constitution of managed democracy.

Surrendering all control to your democracy officer, you obediently parted your legs when his hands lifted your hips up to get you to lay on your knees instead.

Face down, ass up, with your captain cape falling off to the side.

His fingers made quick work of the straps, keeping your armour secured before undoing the belt to your pants and lastly the zipper to your under armour. It was more time effective to only remove enough parts to be able to push your lower armour down to your knees, revealing just enough of your intimate parts and leaving the rest of your body covered.

“You're dripping. You've made a mess already.” With two fingers, he trailed them up the inside of your thigh, scooping as much of your wetness as he could manage. Trailing his fingers up and pressing your own sticky wetness against your tight hole, circling the rim with his fingertips to get you to relax and open up to him.

You laid there helpless with an iron grip against the sheets below. Anticipating the feeling of being prodded open on his fingers. His other hand cupped directly between your legs, with a leather glove holding your most intimate parts like it was nothing.

Not being able to resist much more, you found yourself grinding down on his hand. The friction of the leather and increased sensitivity of your body only made the sensation more addicting.

You didn't care for the fact you were his captain and he was technically your inferior, the electric pleasure shooting through you with every press against his big gloved hand was slowly clouding your brain of all senses of rationality.

He only kept his hand there as you did all the work. desperately pushing against it in search of release. It wasn't enough, but he didn't make any effort to help you go faster, preferring to keep you squirming in neglect.

It was nothing more than a temporary nicotine patch, akin to a band-aid against a gushing wound. Just enough to give you a taste of pleasure and have you pathetically grinding and seeking more.

without a warning, his two fingers pushed inside you, covered in your own leaking wetness and nothing more. Pressing you harder against the bed and the hand cupping you, forcing sounds of pleasure from your throat that got muffled by your helmet.

His fingers were wet enough to reach further inside, fucking in and out of you at a steady pace that grew faster and faster. it was clear now why he was neglecting your genitals on purpose, he wanted you to cum while getting fucked by your inferior officer instead, because that's what good soldiers do.

A third finger joined soon enough as his other hand let go of you, now covered in your own wetness and pre-cum. In a rare tender moment, it went to hold one of your closed fists on the sheets, entangling your fingers and reassuring you that he's here.

The three fingers were brutal, not giving you a second of rest as they explored your insides with a purpose.

The more the pleasure grew, the harder it was to think. All you cared about was the feeling of being filled and thoroughly taken care of.

Paying no mind to your kneeling knees that were getting numb, much like you had to crawl through dirt and kneel during combat to get better accuracy on your machine gun, you could endure staying in this position for hours.

You were made to fight, your body honed for combat, endurance, and stamina. Every scar littering it is a living proof of every death you escape with nothing but its claws scraping your skin as you lived to be sent on another mission immediately after.

And rightfully so, the democracy officer could be as rough as he wants with you and you'd still take it, because that is your purpose in life.

It was decided for you, like everything else in your life. You don't need to ponder or get curious about anything. You don't even need to think because your government will do the thinking for you.

You don't even need to touch yourself, just say the word and the closest democracy officer will bend you over the nearest surface and fuck your brain out In front of everyone, even with other helldivers in the room.

The armoury is already placed in the middle of the ship after all, exposed for all to see much like your dignity each time you get ready for a mission. It's not like all your officers and engineers haven't seen you naked while changing equipment.

There is very little courtesy offered in times of war.

So it won't be any different to have you pressed against the armoury wall, thighs wrapped around him as he fills you with his cum before zipping you up and shoving you into the nearest landing pod so you won't miss your next mission.

Landing on the planet with legs all wobbly and stuffed to the brim with his cum. Feeling it slowly leak down your legs and stain your armour as you fight for your life while simultaneously trying to finish your mission and avoiding the falling meteors.

Having to work with the teammates who just watched you take a load inside. Who heard the sounds you make while struggling not to finish embarrassingly soon with so many people watching you get fucked.

Then join them like it's nothing. Feeling their eyes on you the whole time and knowing they know what the growing stains between your legs are.

Their touches start to linger. They squeeze your thighs whenever one lends you their stem injection after you run out. Grope your back as you help them reload their weapon before another breach arrives. Using you to their heart's content in the evacuation shuttle as a way to vent out the aftermission adrenaline from their bodies while the Falcon 1 pilot enjoys the sound of your gagging.

That's the humiliating fate that you could be subjected to. That's the life of a soldier you signed up for.

Instead, you're here, laying on a semi comfortable bed.

Having the luxury of getting prepared beforehand, of being taken on a subjectively soft mattress instead of the cold metal floor. The privilege of working with such professional helldivers that would never do such a thing during missions. I mean what's next? Helldivers throwing down eagle strikes right before boarding evac shuttles or using the reinforcement as stratagems by throwing you into hordes of enemies? Don't be so absurd, these things never happen, you're just imagining things and if you keep talking about it you might be given a mandatory trip to a freedom camp for re-education, as a work bonus.

Taking you to his own quarters, giving you the privilege of privacy and going out of his way to be kind to you. Your democracy officer must really care for you.

Just don't think too hard about how he's the one who calls down the strikes on you if you ever wander outside your mission zone too far, charges of treason and all you know how it is.

How about, don't think too hard ever again? Stay the way you are and endure everything life throws your way. Saying yes to every order, saying no to every break, keep showing up to be such a good little obedient soldier.

Three fingers pull out of you with a wet pop as your insides clench around nothing. You stop yourself from whining because it's not becoming of a ship captain. Instead, you wait patiently with your ass in the cold air as you hear the sound of a zipper being pulled down.

Something big slots against your back, rubbing its head up and down your gaping hole, giving it a wet tap or two as your thighs quiver.

At this moment, you've never wanted something in your life more than you wanted this big mean cock inside you.

To feel it stretch you out and finally push you towards your release. Afterall you can't cum on your own, you must wait for permission in the form of your democracy officer's cock fucking you until the lights in your brain turn off.

Very early in training, you're taught never to beg. Be it for your own life against an enemy or anything else, for death is preferable to cowardice. Cowardice is treason, and treason is bad.

Even when every nerve in your body feels like it's on fire from the anticipation, even when you're being deliberately teased and toyed with for nothing more than another's amusement.

You're a helldiver, and your job is to endure and follow orders. That's the only thing you're good for.

“Good job, soldier.” His praise is shortly followed by the head of his cock spliting you open, the delicious stretch of being filled with something so large as you spread your legs even more.

“Thank-” you attempt to stutter a reply, but the air is pushed out of your lungs as he bottoms out inside you. You've never been this full in so long. The less than ideal lubricant amount makes it burn deliciously, what was supposed to be pain gets turned into overwhelming pleasure by the stem in your bloodstream. You keep clenching around him as you adjust to his size. “Thank you, Sir.”

His body is fully pressed against yours. One of his hands moves your arms behind your back and is holding them in place. Forcing you into a submissive docile position while his other hand grips your hips, no doubt leaving marks on them by the end of this.

Every thrust pushes you up the bed, moving your entire body before he pulls you back down with his grip against your hands and hips. Bouncing you back and forth.

Your panting and moans would've filled the room, wasn't it for the helmet muffling them for everyone except yourself, making you hear your own cries crystal clear. Every hiccup and groan digging into your ego and self image. Thankfully your ego was used to the bruising from being put in place each morning as you stood up and swore allegiance to super earth, repeating how you're nothing more but a servant for democracy, carved stone to be stepped on for a brighter future in the ladder of liberty.

His thrusts were powerful and deliberate, a steady pace that didn't leave you any room to meet them or wiggle away. Making you completely at his mercy, how clearly he is in charge as he moved and manhandled you however he wished.

You wonder, just how many details about this encounter will go in the report? Will he have to tell them how he fucked you? Describe In details how your insides felt as they milked him dry, spamming and squeezing around his cock with every thrust as if this was your first time getting properly dicked down.

Will he have to specify how he prepared you beforehand? How he didn't use any lube, just your own sticky wetness instead because he knew how much of a slut for pain his helldiver is.

Is it note-worthy to mention how obedient and patient you were the whole time and didn't whine or make a fuss? How you still adorably addressed him as sir despite outranking him, how you let him tug and throw you around like you were a common whore instead of an honourable disciplined soldier.

Or does he only have to refer to the time-period in which he defilled you on his bed? And management can just pull the surveillance and security cameras footage, the same one in the corner of this room right now. Because you never know when a cowardly robot or a nasty bug could infiltrate the helldivers' ranks. So there are cameras everywhere to ensure the safety of the collective, no exceptions made ever.

For privacy is a small price to pay for liberty and freedom! Or are you so selfish to prefer having your entire crew killed without warning by a bug? Just because you didn't want to give up something as insignificant as personal space? Shame on you, Citizen.

As we all know, it is the people with nothing to hide who have nothing to fear. Could you imagine what people might get up to on their own time if it wasn't public knowledge for all to see? That's why it is important for the government to monitor everyone! It is for the safety of the collective.

For the many shall suffer for the sins of the one.

by now most of the stem injection aftermath has been fucked out of you, as the adrenaline wears off you're growing more and more exhausted, brainless and limb.

The same brutal pace that he used with his fingers, only instead it's a thick cock making your brain melt and insides spasm now.

You're so close. The relief you've been so desperate for is just out of reach.

collecting your remaining brain cells to try and form something coherent between all the moaning and whimpering, you manage to make a full word at last.

“Sir-I” a hoarse cry is forced out of you, his cock pressed against a rough patch of skin inside you that lights your nerves up. Almost pushes you over the edge, biting your lips you force yourself to resist the painful temptations to cum.

You attempt again “I'm close, officer. Permission to-” it's burning and clawing at your core from sheer intensity, threatening to burst at any seconds. You put all of your self control into holding it back as tears collect in the corners of your eyes.

You're pulled by your arms to sit up on your knees. Manhandled by your officer like It was nothing despite all of your armour. Much like you ragdolled whenever a charger flung you around as you attempted to dodge being crushed by its claws.

Immediately, your body collapses back onto his chest. Your head lays on his shoulder as you meet his eyes through the tinted windshield in your helmet. Releasing your arms, both of his hands wrap around your waist to keep you up despite your weak knees.

“Permission granted.” His own voice is breathless, unlike the collected tone you've grown used to greeting you whenever you approach the map. The same voice praising you at the end of each mission, encouraging you before the start of another, that same voice was giving you allowance to cum, a silent order that you will obey like all of his others.

You look him in the eyes as you cum, your executive officer watching waves of Intense pleasure going through his captain's body, making you spasm and make a mess on his bed.

Your overstimulated trembling body is used like a fleshlight as he thrusts his cock in and out of you.

Up and down, in and out, seeking his own pleasure, which arrives shortly after.

Filling you to the brim with his cum as he stays inside, a ring of white forming around his cock as it attempts to leak out.

With the stem fully worked out of your system, you're suddenly aware of how much your knees hurt. How numb they are by now.

A hand goes under your armour, gently rubbing your stomach. The harder it presses down the more your insides convulse around the cock plugging you, involuntarily attempting to push it out to make space for the cum threatening to overflow.

Moving down to your hips and thighs, the hand squeezes them tightly just as the democracy officer gives one final thrust forward that steals your breath before pulling all the way out and watching the cum leak down your legs.

Before your insides could close, the same two fingers thrust back in and keep your hole spread out. The other hand continues to rub and squeeze your thighs reassuringly as you push all the cum out.

Aware of his eyes watching you through this whole thing, helping you get it all out with his fingers. It's almost humiliating how you had to be guided and ordered through this whole thing from the moment your ass was up until the second you're having your insides cleaned by your inferior officer.

After what feels like an eternity of probing, you're finally pushed forward to fall on the bed. Your knees give out instantly as the blood rushes to them. Your arms ache, and your thighs are all sticky and wet.

Even now, laying on a bed, in a puddle of cum, you're reminded of how more comfortable it is than being frozen to sleep each night in your cryo chambers.

Your racing heartbeat slows down. The officer leaves the bed for a moment before coming back with a warm wet towel, wiping between your thighs and cleaning you out as you lay there.

He fixes your armour back on afterwards, pulling your now ruined underwear back up. Making you wear the mess you've made. Your pants follow after, then under armour padding and finally strapping the armour pieces back into place.

The screen monitor on your wrist flashes, an invitation request to join on a mission from a fellow helldiver.

You just laid down, but it seems the world can't give you a break. With no time to relish in the bliss that follows an orgasm, that luxury too must be sacrificed. Pressing the option to accept the mission, the coordinations get sent to the entire team as the destroyer prepares to make the jump across the galaxy.

The democracy officer extends his hand to you, and you hold on to it as you slowly get up from the bed. Taking the towel and wiping away any stains on your armour.

Your body pulses with soreness and aches in pain. You can't tell where the blood ended or cum started in the mess that is your cape, proudly showing off your helldiver status as captain on the back.

The democracy officer cups the side of your helmet to turn your head towards him. There's a look in his eyes that you can't place. It's too perfect of a poker face to make any details from.

He knows you can't feel it, and yet his hand caresses the side of your helmet with softness all the same.

Knitted brows above his glistening eyes as he attempts to meet your gaze behind the tinted window on your helmet. Searching for a pair of human eyes behind the endless dark void of the helmet.

Do you remember the colour of your own eyes? The destroyer doesn't have any mirrors.

Is he looking at you with pity, or is it pride? These days, you can't tell these two emotions apart, be it in yourself or others.

He tilts his face closer to yours, eyes fluttering shut. time slows down, and you could count the wrinkles on his hardened skin. Just what kind of life did he lead? What is the price for surviving this far? What is the cost of keeping one's life during a war? Did he pay for it with his sanity or heart?

Chapped lips press against the cold metal of your helmet, a small kiss. tender and fragile like a single snowflake amidst a hail storm. No one will bear witness to it, and yet it's beautiful for having existed at all.

It's over, just like that. Barely having lasted a second. A vulnerable show of intimacy.

“You did well.” There's more he wants to say, more questions he wants to ask, more time he wants to spend holding you. Give you a proper bath and bury you in his chest as he works out all the knots in your muscles. But it's clear he can't, not without repercussions, not with his position as your inferior.

Especially not with the camera watching.

And so he steps to the side, waiting for you to finish before leaving with you. His uniform was as pristine as ever, except for the few wrinkles standing out where he held you against his body. Still, he looked more put together than your dishevelled state. Thankfully your crew have never been anything less than professional no matter what state you showed up in.

He speaks one last time, the same reassuring hand going under your cape to pat your shoulder lightly “I'll take care of the paperwork. The galaxy needs you to save it, helldiver.”

You're reminded of each time a fellow helldiver waited for you to reach the shuttle before boarding, each time one hugged you after a successful mission, tight enough to almost lift you off the ground as they laughed from the sheer joy of being alive.

Each time someone watched your flank for you, fistbumped you after an especially difficult fight. The weight of their heavy helmets on your shoulder during the evacuation take off, stealing some seconds of rest and dozing off cuddling to your side.

A stranger behind a mask, holding your hand and reassuring you that everything is going to be fine, knowing that making it out alive is nothing more than optional bonuses in all of your assignments.

His touch doesn't linger, and the world becomes colder after it's gone. Like someone turned off the sun, a familiar freezing numbness barrows in the hollows of your heart, urging you to forget the sweetness of Eve's apple and move on.

“Thank you.” Is all you manage to reply before the announcement chimes, requesting all helldivers to report to the hell pods. A timer starts counting down from 30 seconds on your wrist monitor.

Walking ahead of your democracy officer, your cape trails behind in a show of authority. Another Helldiver is off to save the galaxy and defend super Earth.

#��otherfandoms #☆helldivers 2 #☆smut #helldivers 2 smut #helldivers 2 x reader #democracy officer x reader #democracy officer x helldiver #gn reader #gn helldiver

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