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jewels-writes · 6 months

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Call of Duty - Fatal Injury Scenarios

Warnings: There is character death in all of these. You, the reader, are fatally injured. In Keegan's, there are themes of drug overdose, I know some people can be considerably sensitive to that. Please consider this your warning. Do not read further if you feel you may be triggered by these topics. Included Characters: Ghost, Price, Keegan, König Word Count: 1.9k Notes: This is very lightly proofread, apologies for inconsistencies or typos/grammatical errors. As always, requests are open. — — — —

Ghost (gunshot):

You and Ghost were paired up for a mission, per usual. You had to clear a building, you took the upstairs, Ghost took the ground floor. You heard the occasional pop of gunfire from downstairs, praying it was Ghost’s gun that was making the sounds.

Focusing on your own work, you cleared the upstairs rooms, being as thorough as possible. As you went through the rooms, you gunned down the enemy, not hesitating once. You were a soldier, you knew hesitating could mean life or death.

“Clear.” you relayed into your communications headset. Before you could turn your radio off, a door swung open at you, the enemy raising their gun and putting three rounds through your chest. Your vest normally would have stopped the bullets, but not this close. You made a gurgling noise before crumpling to the ground, your gun clattering out of your hand beside you.

“Report in, what’s going on up there?” Ghost demanded, making his way to the stairs, gun trained at the top of them. “Soldier, come in.” He ordered, but got nothing in response. He knew something was wrong. You didn’t respond, you couldn’t. Not when your lungs were turned to swiss cheese.

He saw the figure of a body on the ground and after seeing the uniform, he knew it was you. You looked dead.

“Fuckin’ hell..” He clenched his jaw and looking around, his gun raised, waiting for the enemy. He knew they were lurking around here somewhere. He heard a floorboard creek off to the right and burst the door down, shooting the enemy with deadly precision. He didn’t stop even after they’d fallen to the ground. He was furious, angry that the enemy had been able to touch you.

With the threat neutralized, Ghost moved to your side, kneeling beside you. His hands hovered over you, unsure how to fix your injury. His face contorted beneath his mask, realizing the bullets went through your vest and to your vitals. His eyes looked up to yours, looking for a sign of life.

Your labored breathing gave him hope. Hope that you were hanging on.

“Can you hear me..?” His voice was low and careful, his eyes searching your confused expression. “You did good, soldier. You did good.” He could see you were losing your fight and his gloved hand came down to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing your skin.

He was beside you as you took your last painful breath, his hand on your cheek. His heart seemed to stop with yours. He grieved in silence, never being a man of many words when it came to losing someone. Gently, he removed your dogtag, placing it next to his own.

“Until we meet again, soldier.” — — — —

Price (bombed):

After the mission, everyone was exhausted as they all squished into the transport truck. Price sat next to you, his hand resting on your thigh. It was a tough fight, and he knew you needed your rest. He guided your head to his shoulder, a normal routine between the two of you.

Just as your eyes began to close, there was an explosion in the distance.. It sounded like bombing. Then there was another one. And another. Getting louder. Getting closer.

“Price? What’s going on?” You asked, lifting your heard from his shoulder and looking around.

The next instant everything went black. The truck was targeted by an aircraft, the spraying of it’s missiles were the last thing you heard before you passed out.

When you came to, it was to Price dragging you out of the wreck. The next thing you registered was the agonizing pain you were in. Everything hurt, everything burned. It was like you’d been used as a punching bag before being thrown into an oven.

“Shh, shh. You’re okay. You’re okay.” Price’s voice was in your ear as he pulled you away from the burning wreck, his fingers looped into your vest’s handles on the back. “Look at me, you’re okay.” He muttered with a grunt, pulling you away farther.

You tried to talk, tried to ask him what happened. But you couldn’t, didn’t quite know why. Reaching a hand up, you felt around your neck, feeling an uncomfortable pressure there. Your hand froze when you felt hot liquid.

“John-” You mouthed, a dreadful realization dawning on you. Hearing your struggle, his eyes met yours before flicking down to where your hand was probing at your neck. You saw his anguish in his expression, no matter how hard he tried to mask it.

“Oh, shit.” Was all he could manage. “Look at me, you’re gonna be fine. It looks worse than it is.” He lied through his teeth, kneeling beside you, one of his hands running through your hair, the other hovering over your neck. He knew you wouldn’t make it. The gash had gone through an artery. He could see the inside of your neck.

“Shh.. shh.. I’m here. Look at me.” He soothed you, placing both hands on either side of your face, looking you in your eyes. “You did good. You’re the best of the best.” He tried his best to not get choked up. He could see you were fading, the blood spilling from your neck onto the ground, staining the grass a brutal red.

He watched as the last remnants of life flickered out of your eyes, left open and unseeing. His face contorted as he registered that he watched your final breath. He reached a hand up to cover his mouth in despair.

“I’m sorry, my sunshine.” Price felt the tears running down his face as he retracted his other hand. Reaching for your dogtag, he clutched it in his fist, holding it to his chest. “I won’t forget you.” — — — —

Keegan (overdose):

“Sweetheart? I’m home!” Keegan called as he kicked off his shoes in the entryway to your shared home. Normally he’d hear you bounding down the stairs, eager to hug him after he’d been away after a long mission, tackling him near to the ground. It sent a pang of concern through his body when he heard nothing but the air conditioning unit in response. “Honey? Where are you?” He called out again, his body tense with gnawing dread. Something felt wrong.

Everything in the immediate area looked fine, but he couldn’t rule out a potential break in. Not when you were his lover. Not when you meant so much to him. His hand reached for his concealed pistol, unclipping the button that covered it, resting his hand on the body of it, ready to use it if necessary.

Remaining quiet, he searched the house, starting with the main areas. Living room, dining room, kitchen. All clear. As he reached the bottom of the stairs, it dawned on him that you could just be asleep. He jogged up the stairs, ignoring the soreness from deployment.

The light was off in your shared room. It made him feel slightly relieved, realizing you were probably just asleep and that he’d been worked up over nothing.

Quietly turning the knob, he opened the door and let out a slow breath. There you were, sound asleep on his side of the bed, holding one of his hoodies he’d left you.

“Christ. You’re asleep. Had me worried as hell.” He grumbled, taking his hand off his pistol and walking around to the side of the bed and switching the lamp on, hoping to slowly wake you up. As he retracted his hand from the bedside table, he froze, his eyes catching a pill bottle he hadn’t seen before he left for his mission. Was it new? Picking it up, he inspected the label. “Sleeping pills..? How many..” His voice trailed off as he looked back over to you, his eyes on your back, looking for breathing. For any movement.

“Sweetheart? Oh shit.” His voice gained volume as he shook your shoulder. Nothing. “Babe, wake up right fucking now.” His voice grew more concerned. Reaching for your wrist, he begged silently for a pulse, his stomach dropping when he didn’t feel one.

“No.. no please.” Keegan’s voice hitched as he pressed harder into your cold skin. It was no use. Your life had been taken hours before he arrived home. It was an accident, you were just trying to get some sleep, turning to pills to help your insomnia. You’d taken too many.

“Why..? Oh my god.. Sweetheart, please don’t do this to me. You were my everything..” — — — —

König (poison):

The mission was going smoothly, no issues yet. You and König worked together like a well-oiled machine, picking up the slack where the other lacked perfectly. As you and him reached the office, König motioned for you to go in, implying he’d stand guard as you grabbed the intel needed.

Nodding, you stepped inside, doing a quick sweep over the small office. There was no one inside, just a normal office space. Moving the the computer, you powered it on, hooking up your own laptop to break into the locks. As you worked, you felt on edge, like somethin was wrong. This was too easy. As you saw the file on the desktop, hidden under a false name, you faltered.

Cursing at yourself, you clicked on it anyway. The instant that you did, the room went dark, replaced by a flashing red that came with alarms sounding. König, who’d been standing just outside the door, immediately tried to help, his hand shaking the handle of the now locked door.

“Shit-! It’s a trap!” He called from the other side. “Are you okay? What’s going on in there?” He demanded, his voice high with concern. Looking around, you realized something. The room was filling with some kind of gas.

Hurriedly, you stuffed your laptop back into your pack before rushing over to the door, putting your whole body weight against it. Your hand came up to cover your mouth as the gas reached your face. You realized it was some kind of toxin. And of course you didn’t have a gas mask.

“Schatz! Get out of there!” König shouted from the other side, his fists connecting with the door. “Back up! I’m kicking the door in.” He ordered, hoping you’d get out of the way in time.

Stumbling back, you leaned heavily on the desk, the toxin affecting you. Your knees were weak, you felt your mind detach from your body. You couldn’t control it when your body slumped to the ground, your eyes rolling back.

As König delivered a devastating blow to the door, it flew off of it’s hinges, landing on the other side of the room. “Schatz! Nein.. nein.. Look at me.” He kneeled beside you, tapping your cheek. Cursing to himself, he put his arms under you, hoisting you up over his shoulder as he began to run out of the toxic office space. When you two were out of the building, he propped you up against the wall, his stomach flipping when your body was completely limp.

“Hey, hey, wake up.” He begged, shaking your shoulders as he squatted beside you. “Gott verdammt, look at me!” With a sickening realization, he saw you weren’t breathing. “Nein..” He muttered as it felt like his heart shattered in two.

“Schatz.. Come on.. Open your eyes.” He begged, cupping your face in his hands. It was useless, whatever you’d breathed in was toxic enough to kill you.

“I’m so sorry.. I failed you..”

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rascal-xo · 1 year

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Can i request one where reader and ghost go to the zoo as a date 💞 and bonus they get to pet capybara's too 😭 i love capybara's

Bittersweet | Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader |

Chapter summary: You and Simon take a day trip to the zoo

Warnings: FLUFF, Affirming!Simon, language

Word count: 792

A/N: This popped up on my twitter feed and I HAD to add it to this blog.

“I don’t think they like me, Love.” Simon chuckled, watching the penguins waddle away into the water at the sight of him.

“Their first time seeing a ghost, I bet." You smile, earning a small nudge from your fiancé, whose face is covered by a balaclava but his eyes as bright as ever. You lean on the metal railing while Simon keeps a hand around your waist.

It's bittersweet, being here with him. You're both enjoying yourselves, but there's that familiar cloud of sadness hanging over you both, knowing that today could be the last time you get to do something like this together for a while.

Simon will be deploying back to base with the 141 in just two short days. You dread the week before he has to leave, scared and full of emotion, just wishing he could stay longer or never have to leave the peacefulness of your home.

You watch the little babies follow after their mothers, while others swim under the decorative bridge happily.

“What’s got you so quiet, darling.” Simon asks, letting your head fall against his shoulder. “These little things can’t be all that interesting.” He jokes, you smile to yourself at the sound of his voice.

You take a deep breath before answering, not wanting to ruin the peacefulness of the moment. "I worry about you, Si." you say softly, feeling Simon's gaze turn to you.

He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead through his mask before pulling away slightly to look you in the eyes. "I always come home, don’t I? I don’t want you worrying, it’s not good for you love.”

You know he's right, he always comes back, but the thought of him being in harm's way is enough to keep you up at night. The thought of having Johnny or the Captain at your front door with Simons dogtags, is a constant fear of yours.

"I know you do," you say, “Just wish you could stay.”

"I know," Simon replies, his voice soft, almost regretful. "But duty calls, and I have to answer." You nod, understanding his dedication to his work. You also know that the time apart is just as difficult for him as it is for you.

You spend the rest of the afternoon wandering through the different animal exhibits, dragging Simon to hold various exotic creatures while never once missing the opportunity to snap pictures of him on your small camera.

Pictures you’ll eventually print out to remember back on.

As you approach the capybara exhibit, you can't contain your excitement. "Simon, look! They're so cute!" You see the sign to hold one and almost run off without him. You hand him your camera and run up to the line.

Simon smiles at your excitement, making sure to snap a photo of you getting to hold one of the pups. You can feel the warmth of the animal's fur against your skin as it nuzzles into you

"I think it likes you," Simon says, chuckling as he looks at the photo he just took. You’re smiling up at Simon in the shot, with small animal in your arms. The perfect candid moment.

He was going to make sure he keeps that one in his vest, once printed out. You can't help but grin, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. This moment, captured forever in time

As you make your way back to the car, the sun starting to set on the horizon, you hold Simon's hand tightly. You don't want to let go, not wanting to face the reality that he'll be leaving soon.

You both know that tomorrow will be spent running errands and packing for his deployment. It won't be a fun day, but it's a necessary one.

As you reach the car, Simon opens the door for you before making his way around to the driver's side. You're lost in thought, when he reaches over and takes your hand in his. You turn to look at him, seeing the small smile on his face.

“Don’t go holding any capybaras without me while i’m gone, you hear?” He chuckles, lightening the mood.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Lieutenant.” You say sternly, joking.

“Oh god, Love. I don’t wanna be Lieutenant yet. I’ve got two more days.” He whines, with a hearty laugh.

You take his much larger hand, now cupping it with both of yours and bring it up to your lips. “Come back to me, Simon.” You say against it, not wanting to feel anything but him.

He watches you with more emotion in his eyes than he had ever had before in his life. He would come back to you, one way or another.

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sprout-fics · 11 months

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Fuck idk if my last ask died because my wife is shit so I’ll send again just in case—

A scenario with ghost and fix where he tells her, “say my name,”

“now say it like you own it.”

Like don’t get me wrong, ghost being protective over reader is good shit. But ghost, a huge violent embodiment of literal death looking you in the face and saying, “I’m yours,” is also just as good and I see it way less

I'm literally so full of feelings for the rawness and tenderness between Fix and Ghost during sex, how it's just one more way for them to communicate without having the proper words, to tell each other they are there, to remind each other they are alive despite it all. It hurts so good.

“Say my name.”

You’re braced above him, legs splayed on either side of his hips, hands pressing down onto the firm planes of his stomach across the scarred flesh there. Your fingers curl red crescents into the pale silvery skin as you exhale unsteadily. There’s pleasure jolting across your hips, making the strength in your legs buckle and rendering you boneless atop him for a moment, desperately trying to gather the fragmented pieces of yourself that fracture further with every grind of your hips down onto him. The pulsing, thick heat of him stretches your walls snug, each withdrawal trying only to drag him back, further into you. Two broken pieces destined to fit together.

“Simon.” You whisper, voice choked, the sound barely audible in the darkness of his room, where moonlight streams in from the curtains and illuminates the slope of your shoulders hunched over him.

“Louder.” He tells you, and despite it all, despite the bruising grip on your hips where he drags you down onto him, despite the wetness pooling across his belly and the asynchronous rise of his chest his voice is even, commanding. Unerring, immovable in the way you so desire him, the way you’ve thrown yourself against so many times it’s broken you down into shrapnel.

He gathers the splintered shards of you, coaxes you into a tender flame and forges them anew.

“Simon.” You manage, strained as you choke back a groan. You grind the arch of your pelvis against the flat plane of his torso, feeling the width of him graze something in you that has warmth pulsing up the dip of your spine, settling in your shoulders like a sordid embrace.

“Good.” He growls, and the praise is enough to threaten a whimper in your throat, a single word set to undo you at the seams. He knows this, knows all of this, can hold you aloft to the light and peer through you like glass to witness the glimmering interior of you. You bite your lip against it, even as his thumb strokes the tender flesh of your hip, seizing it in a firm grasp once more to drag you from the confines of your thoughts.

He groans as you shift once more, rise off him just an inch, only to sink down once more. It’s not firm by any means, but the effect is all the same, sending a joint shudder of pleasure rippling through both of you, tender and raw and somehow addictive.

“Say it like you own it.” He tells you, and one of his hands rises from your hip to the palm flat against his chest. He drags it up, just a few inches, to where his dogtags lay nestled in the dip of his collarbone. Your fingers curl over them, draw them tight in your grasp as an anchor, a mast to tie yourself to in the gale of your own discord.

“Simon.” You nearly growl, lifting up further this time, forcing yourself down firmly enough for the tip of him to knock inside you. Your breath whooshes outward in a gasping exhale, but you waste no time in setting a new pace, dragging him where you choose to go, allowing the grunts and muffled moans of him guide your way.

“That’s it.” He growls, voice dragging low in his chest, below where your fist lays. “That’s it, Fix.”

You catch his eyes in the darkness, see them glint in the pale of the moon- a reflection inwards into yourself. You know the words there without his voice, but he echoes them into the darkness nevertheless, giving sound to the thing you’ve only ever wanted.

“I’m yours.”

#simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley smut #simon ghost riley x oc #oc: fix #fic: shadow and bone #thursday night thots #reader insert #x reader #minors dni #mdni #THEM?!?!#Also anon I hope you meant your wifi not your wife LOL

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shanastoryteller · 5 months

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Hey Shana! Happy Holidays! Can I get some Sacrifice is Free please? 👀

a continuation of 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

It's dawn when Ed manages to drag himself back to base, splattered with blood and so exhausted he can barely see straight.

Denny gets to him first, him and Maria waiting as close as they could to the perimeter. The general and a crowd of gaping onlookers are there too, but for now they keep their distance.

"You alright?" Denny demands, wiping the blood off his face and putting a steadying hand on his shoulder.

They're far enough away from everyone else that he feels comfortable saying, "Alex says hi. Mustang followed me."

He pales. "Did he-"

"He went with them," he says and Denny lets out a relieved breath. "Try and keep me alive until I can talk to them, yeah?"

He passes out before he can hear Denny's answer.

Roy is dead.

It had take no time for him to notice his friend was missing, but he'd hoped. Maes had gone searching, trying to think of all the places he could possibly be, but it had been a fool's errand.

They'd found his dogtags in what remained of the Ishvalan city, all blood and body parts and rubble.

He doesn't think he'd be able to identify Roy's body even if they could find it.

"I'm going to kill him," Riza says calmly, dry eyed and back straight. It's how he knows she means it.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #thedoctor91011 #fma

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altocat · 4 months

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AU where Genesis and Angeal both get killed in battle right in front of Sephiroth 💀

There's no going back now. Sephiroth unleashes himself. Hundreds dead within a matter of minutes. Sephiroth is nonverbal, unblinking, completely single minded.

He finds the targets specifically responsible for ending the lives of his friends and simply.... doesn't stop tearing into them. He doesn't even use the Masamune. There are bits of bone fragments and brain gristle staining his hands. But he just keeps on going. So much so that they have to drag him away. And even then, he's fighting with all his might. He is restrained for most of the ride back, refusing to leave Genesis and Angeal's bodies. He never says a word and his expression doesn't shift. But his unblinking eyes are bloodshot and there's a tremor in his bloodied hands that refuses to go away.

Sephiroth eventually has to be sedated indefinitely. He is placed on medical leave for several months, brought out again only during vital skirmishes and then immediately escorted back to his private quarters. He has to be tube fed since he refuses to eat on his own. He sleeps nearly twenty hours a day, not including all the vital tests Hojo performs on him in order to see if he can forcefully jolt Sephiroth's body back to coherence. It doesn't really work.

Sephiroth is never quite the same in the years to come. He eventually begins to function somewhat normally again, but his behavior is often very zombie like, permanently detached. He's aware of his surroundings but he no longer seems interested in anything. Merely going through the motions. Drifting. Most eager incoming recruits come racing in to meet their idol, only to find a dead-eyed shadow of a man shuffling listlessly about the SOLDIER floor. In battle, Sephiroth is as calm and efficient as ever. But it's all without drive, without any motivation whatsoever. Sephiroth seems to have simply retreated into himself and never returned.

Eventually he is assigned Nibelheim. But no harm befalls the town. Following a very interesting trip to the reactor and a subsequent acquaintance with the Shinra mansion, Sephiroth returns to Midgar and sets the entire city ablaze, eventually retreating to the basement of the burning, crumbling Shinra building. There, cradling the severed head of Jenova and the ashy remains of Genesis and Angeal's old SOLDIER dogtags, he descends into the cool, welcoming darkness, curls up, and simply expires.

#asks #ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #crisis core #sephcanons #sephiroth #genesis rhapsodos #angeal hewley #AU #Hard angst #Big ow #I regret nothing

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bloodyquillink-blog · 5 months

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hi i’m not sure if your taking requests, but if you are can you do a logan walker x reader where the reader and logan were engaged before logan got taken by rorke, and when he gets saved he’s a completely different person and is closed off and even more quiet, but when one of rorkes members send a message to the ghosts team saying they want to take the reader now aswell, logan gets super protective and opens up to her about eveything that happened? if not totally ok!! thank you so much!!

A/N: I am and thank you for being my first tumblr request! I hope I’ve done you justice with this.

Warnings: Big angst, hurt/comfort, descriptions of injuries and torture methods (if I missed anything please let me know)

Word Count: 4.4K

To Be Changed, Logan Walker x Reader

Your marriage was so happy and perfect, even though the world wasn’t. Despite the fear of your whole wedding being destroyed before you and Logan even put on the rings and said your vows, that didn’t stop either of you. If you were going to die, you might as well die tied to one another, surrounded by the people you treasure most. Thankfully, that wasn’t the case. The wedding went without a hitch, ignoring the occasional pitches of anxiety that bubbled in everyone's stomachs. There was a beautiful mountain that overlooked a nearby beach, it felt like the clouds parted just for you two that day. The sun shone down on the white you and Logan wore. The red rose in his breast pocket, the artificial one you gave him when you went on your first date, was accentuated by the surrounding colors of blue water and green grass.

Logan was usually fairly quiet, but that day when he said his vows, he spoke more than you did. He managed to avoid stuttering, though you could feel his hands shaking. You were so proud of him and each word from his lips warmed your heart. That alone let you know that this was the right decision, the only one.

Before you cut the cake, he whispered to you, “I can’t find the words to describe how much stronger you make me feel.” You looked at him, confused and curious, before he continued. “I barely speak to my own family and brothers, maybe because I don’t need to… but you changed that. Now, I’m just droning on and on about whatever’s happening at the moment. Because of you. Hell, my mom barely heard me talk this much.” He wrapped his arms around you, cupping your hands that held the knife for the cake. “I bet she’s watching us now. She’d love you so much.” And with that, you both cut the first slice.

A quote floated through your mind, “To be loved is to be changed.” and by God, did you change Logan.

That’s what made today so painful.

That’s why you sat on the floor in front of the front door to you and Logan’s home. That’s why David held you, holding the back of your head so you didn’t see him silently crying while you sobbed. You held Logan’s mask and dogtags close to your heart. Eventually, Keegan and Merrick had come out of the car they drove here. Keegan knelt down to rub your back, attempting to comfort you as best as he could. Merrick told you more than he, as a Captain, should tell any civilian. He’d made an exception for you. Seeing as he had a job to protect his best friend's children in the most dangerous job they could all have now, you joked that Logan and David were his adopted kids.

He never denied it. Because of that, you might as well have been his adopted kid, now in-law too. And as that in-law, it was his job to tell you that Logan was, for better or worse, not dead. You looked up at him with tears still falling. He explained what happened from the beginning. A man, a horrible man, named Rorke who was a former Ghost that the Federation destroyed and turned into something repulsive. David added that it was Rorke who had dragged Logan away on that beach. That fucking beach. He explained how it was his own fault for not doing more, for not saving him despite his injuries that, even now, two weeks after, he was still healing from.

You almost slapped him. You wanted to slap Merrick too. You were heartbroken and afraid and every negative emotion you could possibly feel nearly boiled over. You sat on the couch, the men around you as they tried to help you breathe. When you calmed down enough to speak coherently, you asked a simple question:

“Will we ever see him again? Alive?”

Merrick answered, as hopeful as he could be.

“We’ll do everything we can to make sure we will.”

That’s all you could really ask for. David moved and carefully dug into his front pocket before he pulled out his hand and offered something small and shiny. It was Logan’s ring. Both of your rings were made of titanium for its durability, Logan was worried about scratching or otherwise damaging it, so he chose titanium. Strong and durable. You had told him it reminded you of his personality, how he just kept going under all circumstances. You would’ve started crying again if this alone hadn’t already exhausted you. As much as you wanted to hold all of Logan’s things to try to feel like he was with you, you handed his mask and dog tags to Hesh. You knew where the mask came from. Who originally wore it.

“I think they’d want you to hold these.” you said, quiet as ever. David knew you weren’t just talking about Logan, but their father, Elias the “Scarecrow”, as well. He grabbed the mask and tags, putting the tags on and clutching the mask like a lifeline. As everyone stood up and walked to the door, you hugged David and whispered to him, your voice still shaking.

“It’s not your fault. I know he doesn’t blame you. I don’t either.”

“Thank you,” He paused, “I’ll do everything in my power to bring him back to you.”

You hugged Merrick and Keegan before they walked back to the car.

“Be safe!” You called out. A useless but well-intentioned farewell to the soldiers. They waved back before pulling out of the driveway, leaving you alone.

That night, you took Logan’s ring and put the chain of your favorite necklace, one he had given you before your marriage, through the ring and laid it around your neck. You cried, holding his cold pillow and wearing an old hoodie you’d stolen from his closet while he was gone. Your body ached with every sob.

Three months later, you began cleaning the house before the depression that kept you in your room most of the time got too bad. It helped a little, going through every nook and cranny. You even went into the attic. Any time either of you traversed into the usually dark storage, it would end with you holding the giant vacuum, claiming you saw a spider the size of your head while Logan chuckled. After a bit, he’d go up with a flashlight only to find some critter that got stuck up there because of a hole. Once he’d patched up the hole and cleaned out as much as he could, it all felt more comfortable.

As you looked through old boxes, you found pictures. The oldest going back to when you both first met. It was a charity for veterans in your old town where Logan, David and Elias were stationed. There were games you and your friends played, competing. At one point, Elias jokingly joined in which pulled David and, naturally, Logan. As the night went on, you and Logan got closer. He barely spoke but his chuckles at your comments were enough for you.

“I was so close to winning! You gotta give me credit for that!” You argued, cheeks hurting from smiling so much. You turned to see Logan looking at you, his brow raised and smirking.

“How? You’re 25 points behind me.” He remarked.

“I would’ve won if… if I had been playing with someone other than you!”

“Like who?”

“One of my friends, probably Ash!”

“You have 10 points.” Each time the tiny basketballs went in the hoop, it was 5 points.

“Yes and I would be 10 points ahead of them which means I would win!” He practically wheezed at that as you giggled. You looked over to see David and Elias staring at the both of you, wide smiles plastered on their faces.

You kept looking through the box. Finding photos from the day you met Keegan and Merrick, then the day you visited Mrs. Walker’s grave for the first time. You stared at that picture of Logan and David sitting together in front of the stone. It was so peaceful.

You held the photo to your chest and thought of Logan. You whispered to yourself, “Please, please protect him. Keep all of them safe. I just want them to be happy… Elias and Diane, please watch over all of them.”.

Another three months later, you hadn’t heard from David, Keegan, Merrick or any other military personnel. It had been a total of eleven months since you last saw your husband. You were Logan’s emergency contact and many people aside from the Ghosts knew you, so if something happened then someone would contact you. This should be comforting. No one calling you means no one’s dead, right? Nothing bad. So why were you so anxious? You couldn’t reach anyone so maybe something did happen and-

Your phone rang. It was David. You answered immediately.

“David? What happened? Where have you been?”

“Come outside, I have to show you something.”

It’d been a long time since you ran that fast. David sat in his truck, as you ran over to the passenger side, he leaned to open the door from his seat. As soon as your door closed and you buckled in, he began driving.

“David, what’s going on?”

He inhaled through his nose, you noticed how hard he was gripping the wheel and that he was going a bit fast. He was a careful driver normally. If he was amongst civilians, he was calm and never dared going above the speed limit in case there was a child or a dog or pedestrian walking when and where they shouldn’t be. This drive, however, was different. Something happened.

“We got him.” He looked at you, your eyes wide as they slowly filled with tears. “He’s back.”

“W-when did he get back?” You stuttered.

“Almost two weeks ago-” You opened your mouth to speak but David put his hand up. You waited. “Knowing Rorke and his history, we kept Logan on base to heal some and do some mental evaluations.”

“David…”

“I need to warn you right now, he’s not gonna be the same man you knew before all this shit happened. He’s gonna have a lot of recovering to do.”

David went on to explain Rorke and what the Federation did to him. You were quiet.

“Did he do all of that to Logan?”

“We aren’t sure. We just know that whatever it was wasn’t good. He’s clear to come home today if both of you are ready, but I just needed to tell you.” Good thing the house was clean.

“Thank you, David. I know this has probably been harder on you than anyone.” David tried to laugh.

“I mean it’s my job-” You put your hand on his shoulder.

“You know what I mean. Thank you. Seriously.” He exhaled slowly, he seemed to relax a little.

“You’re welcome.”

“You can come by whenever you like if Logan comes back. Maybe just give me a warning, ok?”

“I will. I promise.”

David parked the truck after you checked in at the front gate. Your heart beat rapidly despite the slow walk through the base. You recognized some of the men and gave a half-hearted wave when they greeted you. You could already tell. They knew why you were here.

You walked into the base hospital. David took you down numerous hallways you knew there was a chance you’d see one day but never expected, never wanted to walk down. But this was for Logan. David opened the door to the room you stood in front of.

You couldn’t tell if your heart was breaking or if you were having a heart attack or what…

There he was, sitting against the bed he must’ve been in since returning, looking at you.

Logan was in a hospital gown, his arms and legs below the knee exposed. The skin was covered in jagged scars and stitches that were still such a dark and aggressive red. Along with that were numerous bruises, a painful variety of purples, yellows, and green in some spots. His right arm in a cast and sling. On his other hand, his ring and finger are wrapped, probably broken or dislocated. You notice how his left shoulder and upper arm seem to be wrapped with gauze. You don’t want to imagine what injuries he must have that you can’t see.

His face. His handsome face. He looks so tired. Logan turned towards you and tried to limp over, using the bed for stability. You rushed forward instinctually. Once he was close enough, he slowly wrapped his unbroken arm around your back. You looked at him. He had dark circles under his eyes, faded bruising on his left cheekbone, two intersected scars ran across his face. One started between his eyebrows to his cheek. The second from the middle of his chin, across his lips until it passed the other scar on that same cheek. His skin was cool and pale, unlike the warm complexion he had prior to the kidnapping.

You ended up staying for about two hours before you got a list of medications from doctors, some extra gauze wraps and a pamphlet detailing how to handle a deep second degree burn at home. That was why his shoulder and arm were wrapped. You said goodbye to David, Keegan and Merrick soon after.

The first few weeks, Logan mostly stayed in bed. Every day you checked his injuries, the stitches and the burn, to make sure there was no infection and they were healing properly. By the fourth week or so, the burn had healed, leaving behind a large patch of discolored skin. At nearly the sixth week, his cast was removed. His arm and fingers had healed well and correctly. David had told you that when Logan was taken, his arm was broken. When he was found, his arm had healed incorrectly as a result of improper care, assuming any care was given, so the doctors had to re-break it before putting it in the cast.

After the seventh week, Logan was able to walk around without limping. However, he mostly just stayed in your room. Sometimes, you’d spend the day in the living room in hopes it would coax him out. It didn’t work. You cooked his favorite meals but he would usually bring the food back to the room. When it was time for bed, you essentially snuck around the room to avoid scaring him in case he was sleeping. You were pretty sure he wasn’t sleeping, at least not as much as he should’ve been. It remained this way for a few more weeks.

A month and a half into Logan being back home and he’d uttered a scarce amount of words. “Okay”, “alright”, “yes”, “no” and whatever else kept his sentences short. He barely talked to you anymore. Of course, you kept David updated as often as possible. You felt like he just wasn’t there. Now, he was more of a ghost than ever.

Two months in and he started going to the base again. For what? You don’t know. You had asked where he was going, dressed in his “soldier getup” as you called it.

“I’m going to work. Can’t be late. I’ll be back later.” He’d stated hastily before heading out. This continued on for another two weeks until you decided to talk to him before he left.

“Logan, honey, can we talk?”

“Um… sure, but I have to leave before 9.” He was trying to rush again.

“I wanted to ask about that actually…” He looked at you, mostly expressionless. “You were just gone for almost, what, six months? Why are they having you back at work when you might as well have just finished actually healing?”

“I… There’s still work to be done.” he stuttered. You cocked your head. You turned to him from your position on the couch.

“What work?” you asked slowly and quietly. You knew he wasn’t lying. You didn’t want him to think you thought he was lying. You wanted to keep the conversation calm so he wasn’t overwhelmed.

“It’s a lot. I don’t think- right now isn’t the right time.” he began to turn.

“We can talk later if that’s better, but I just want to know. I’m worried about you.”

“You don’t need to worry, I just need to do some things.” His voice carried no emotion. He was almost at the door when you stood suddenly.

“Logan, I just want to understand!” Logan stopped in his tracks. You stared at his back. “I want to just talk, please… I know your job is important and I don’t want to get in the way with complaining…” Your voice cracked. You wrapped your arms around yourself. Logan was here, in the same house as you. You stared at him but you felt lonelier than ever. “You’re so far away, Logan… and… and I know there was so much that happened and we didn’t know if we’d ever see each other again, but we’re together now!” You walked closer to him. He heard your steps but he stayed still. “We don’t have to act like nothing happened. We couldn’t if we wanted to, I know that… but please talk to me again. I married you because I love you. I married you and everything that came with you. I said those vows and ‘in sickness and in health’ because even when you’re hurting, I’ll be there. I’m here right now! But I need you to let me be there. I need you to stop hiding yourself away from me. I want to know you again, Logan.” Your breathing had picked up as tears welled up in your eyes.

Time just stopped. You turned and sat back on the couch facing away from him. You quietly wept into your hands as everything just seemed to spill over. You had reached your boiling point. You didn’t hear the footsteps coming to you until you opened your eyes and noticed the giant boots that faced your much smaller feet. A large pair of hands slowly removed your hands from your face, one tilted your head up.

You saw Logan’s beautiful eyes, a sort of hazel that seemed gold in the light. He slowly knelt down in front of you and hugged you. Not like the barely there hug he mustered at the hospital when he couldn’t even walk on his own. He pulled you tight against him and you immediately curled around him as you sobbed. He let you. Logan pulled back after a moment and held your face. He wiped your tears with his thumbs.

“I love you too… more than anything.” He stared into your reddening, tear-filled eyes for a moment before sighing as he sat next to you. You held his hand, his thumb stroked your knuckles as he thought about his next words. “A couple days ago,” he started, “something happened. I can’t tell you what yet but it was cause for concern. Especially with Ghost team.” He paused and looked at you, directly into you. “I want to tell you everything, but it’s going to be a lot to process and it’ll probably be scary. I don’t want you to deal with this, with all the problems coming to us because of Rorke but you’re right to want to know what’s happening and you deserve to know.” You looked at the time, 8:55 A.M. You stood, Logan followed, still holding your hand. He pressed your hand against his chest and over his heart.

“I love you.” You whispered.

“I love you too. I’ll talk to Merrick today and I’ll try to get home as early as I can. We can talk about everything while we make dinner.”

“Together?”

“Together. I’ll call you if anything comes up and if you need me to, I can get groceries, ok?” You nodded. This is all you asked for. You hugged Logan tightly as he wrapped himself around you. You walked him to the door where he kissed you goodbye, on the lips. It felt like it had been forever since you’d done that. You stopped him before he moved. He almost retorted when you pulled off the necklace you still had on. He stared at the ring hanging from it. You took the ring off and put it back on his hand. He stared at it for a moment and smiled. A tired little smile that took so much weight off of you. Logan grabbed the necklace and took the time to put it back around your neck before he kissed you again.

“Thank you.” He whispered, still smiling. You smiled back as he walked to the car, waving when he began to drive. It had only been 10 minutes at most but those 10 minutes were so freeing. The rest of the morning you spent outside, reading and occasionally texting your friends when they checked in. The sun warmed your skin and the air was so fresh. You went back inside around 3 P.M when Logan called you:

Logan: “I can come back home around 6 tonight.”

You: “Sounds good, any ideas for dinner?”

Logan: “I could really go for lasagna.”

You: “Can you stop at the store on your way back? I have a list!”

Logan: “Yeah, just send it to me.”

With that, you texted everything you needed before moving to clean up the kitchen and free up space.

Later that night, Logan returned with everything you asked for plus a tub of ice cream. Your favorite flavor. You got to cooking, boiling the sheets and preparing the sauce while the oven preheated. You cooked together, like old times. It had been so long. Music quietly played as you both took turns tasting everything. A little extra salt and paprika here, with some pepper too. You laid down the floppy lasagna sheets while Logan poured the sauce over top then you both spread your favorite cheeses before adding more sheets and so on. While the lasagna was in the oven, you sat on the couch together. Logan held you in his arms as you stroked the hair on the back of his neck. After savoring the peace of the moment, Logan started talking.

When he was kidnapped, Rorke had put him through the same trials he himself had experienced. Being force fed poisoned food was the start until Rorke seemed to grow bored and eventually forced him to eat the plants the poison had been extracted from. Logan told you everything. All the grim details. At some points, you actually felt nauseous just hearing the horrors. When he was almost done talking about what he was forced to endure, you just held him and continued to encourage him to talk. He held you tight as he explained. The beatings he was put through. The way his arm healed wrong and he could hardly use it without feeling pain.

Then he looked at you. You felt so fragile with the way he looked at you with his tired eyes. He spoke again.

“Rorke knows about you.”

You never met this man in your life, never saw pictures. But he was like a boogeyman. He could appear from under your bed at any moment.

“His soldiers… left us a message… Threatening to take me again. They said this time they’d take you too.”

That’s why he was going back to base. To work with his brother and everyone to make sure nothing happened. You didn’t live far from the base but they were thinking about bringing you on post to be cautious. That’s why Logan went back to work so soon. To protect you. That’s why he was telling you all of this now, to further protect you.

You were scared. Hearing about something like this happening was one thing, but knowing the man who stole your husband and almost broke him from the inside out was completely different. Especially when you knew that he wanted you too. Oh god. Logan held you and told you that the two of you could always move on base where you’d be protected and closer to him. You’d be amongst him and the other soldiers and Riley, Hesh’s dog. They wouldn’t let anything happen. And so you agreed. That night you just focused on being together, holding one another and eating your delicious lasagna as you reminisced together.

Over the course of the next week, you brought as many of your necessities over to base where you and Logan continued living together. You met some friends of his and their partners, gaining your own group of friends not long after moving. Some had even assisted in bringing more of your things over when Logan had to work.

Later down the line, the Ghost team flew out. You weren’t told anything about what the mission entailed, but when Logan came to you, mask on, and put his ring in your hand before kissing you goodbye, you had an idea.

“I will make sure no one, not a single person touches you. Not a single damn person. I will keep it that way. I promise.” He whispered, voice more stern than ever.

Your friends on base were all a wonderful support system during the next week they were gone for. You weren’t able to reach out again but you believed in them. You took care of Riley, who’d grown to love you.

When the week was done, they came back and Logan had made a beeline for you. You were reading, his ring back on your necklace when the door opened and your husband walked in, covered in dirt and other unidentifiable muck and alive. You rushed to jump into his arms and kiss him, ignoring the weird taste of said dirt in your mouth. You gave his ring back, ignoring the dirt that was on his hands too. While you held him, he whispered in your ear, “It’s all over now. We can go home.”.

So you did. David, Keegan and Merrick were kind enough to assist with moving your things back over and checking your house for anything that wasn’t meant to be there, anything that indicated a break in. Shit, they’d even checked the vents too. When that was all done, you made lasagna for them and spent the evening laughing together and savoring the peace that had finally come over the world again. Later, you and Logan laid in bed together, happy as ever and whispered sweet words to each other. Both of you could finally get some rest.

The end, thank you for reading! I will also post this on my ao3 @ RiversSong82

#cod ghosts #cod ghosts fanfiction #cod fanfiction #cod fanfic #logan walker #cod logan walker #logan walker x reader #logan walker x m!reader #logan walker x f!reader #logan walker x gn!reader #quill writes

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valhallaas · 1 year

Text

Sun Across The Sky

pairing: jake hangman seresin x icarus!reader

word count: 2.9k

summary: you flew too closely to the sun, but Jake Seresin would die before he’d let you fall.

warnings: smut 18+ (minors dni) p in v, cream pie, near death experience, mild angst

a/n: soft jake. i love soft jake. we all deserve soft jake for just a moment.

It starts at dawn. The slow-flowing creek, the wildflowers slowly overgrown on the bank, the canopy of vibrantly colored leaves swaying softly in the warm late-summer air, blending beautifully into the warmth of the orange sherbet skyline. Deep inhale, slow exhale. Your arms swing out and above your head, fingers dancing in the wind, reaching for the last of the stars before they disappear with the sunlight. The sound of running footfalls echo through the quiet as you bend forward, palms touching the blue yoga mat beneath you.

“You’re up early.”

Turning, one arm lifts up, placing you into the triangle pose. Jake stares down at you, backwards ballcap on his head, hands on his hips, and bare chest slightly heaving. The rising sun paints him in the warmest hues of oranges, yellows, and reds. Making his lightly tanned skin glow incandescently. His eyes crinkle with his smile — one that could rival the sun — sweat rolls down his body.

You raise your eyebrows at his statement. “I always wake with the sun.”

He says it like he doesn’t know that. You watch his grin widen, follow his movements until he's planting a kiss to your forehead before heading back to the house. Standing upright on your feet, you inhale and exhale, inhale and exhale. Moments pass but you still feel the heat, the lingering burn from his skin on yours. You couldn’t help but wonder if he knew. Glancing up, the clouds are cast with a golden hue, begging you to get lost in them. The warmth of the sun coats you, wanting you closer. A small smile tugs at your lips. The sky is calling you.

Jake’s stepping out of the shower when you finally make your way inside. Setting the yoga mat by the full length mirror, you watch him get ready. He’s built like he was carved from marble — shaped intentionally, painstakingly, wondrously — each hard-line and defined muscle. A god in his own right. But it isn’t his build or golden skin and blonde hair that inevitably pulls everyone's attention to him whenever he walks into a room — it’s his energy. His aura.

He’s like a beacon, a lighthouse, illuminating the entire room in the kind of magnetic energy that pulls your attention, just by being in it. When his eyes flick over to meet yours in the reflection, his brows raise, and you can’t help the flirtatious wink that causes him to shake his head with a light chuckle.

You turn to face him when he walks over to you. Warm hands grip tightly onto your hips before trailing up your sides, goosebumps breaking out across your bare skin. It’s not often he touches you like this. Normally it’s a hand on your lower back, a kiss to your forehead, lingering looks from across the room. You’re a secret hidden underneath the bed sheets, confined to the four walls of your bedroom. Nobody knows — nobody needs to know. More than anything you’re best friends. Never one without the other. You, Icarus, and he, Apollo. Your head in the clouds and the sun follows him wherever he goes.

Your hands run up his arms, rubbing at his shoulders, scratching up the back of his neck. One hand trails back down, index finger catching the chain hanging around his neck. You thumb at the dogtags, the imprint of his name against your skin. It’s the golden pendant that has your attention. A sun engraved into metal. His lips crash into your own when he pulls you by your own dogtags, a matching pendant hanging between them.

His tongue drags across your fluttering pulse, and when he sucks your skin hard enough to leave a bruise, your fingers splayed open on his broad shoulders, digging into the taut muscle that flexes as he draws you closer. Calloused hands pull at your sports bra, the cool morning air drawing your nipples taunt.

His hands slide down your back, holding you close as he leans forward and lays you down on the sea of blankets. You’ve been together too long for you to be embarrassed by the whimper of a moan that escapes you when his teeth tug harder on your nipple before laving the ache with his tongue while his hand palms your other breast, playing mercilessly with the nipple until your back is arching off the mattress, eyes rolling back.

His hand falls away from your breast, and you nearly squeak in indignation until the feel of his calloused fingers slides between your thighs. Fingers dig into the stretchy material of your shorts, your own hands trailing down to free your body of the material. Jake groans, watching you.

“I knew you weren’t wearing any panties.”

“Never do.”

You’ve never given it much thought, but if you had to imagine heaven, this would be it. A sunlit morning, tangled sheets, gentle words, rough hands. An endless loop of intimate moments, of vulnerable confessions, of whispered promises, of sex so intense your mind fractures and pieces itself back together. Your souls touch, they echo across countless lifetimes.

Jake’s thumb teases your clit, rubbing slow, torturous circles that make your legs spasm every time the callous on the side of his thumb grazes the bud of nerves, lighting up every nerve ending in your body like a firework show.

You attempt to tug him closer, to shift your hips forward, to add more pressure, to silently ask him to go faster. God, please go faster. But he doesn't oblige. Rather, he pulls your hands off his body and locks them into an inescapable hold above your head, pinned against the pillows — a silent demand to not rush him, to let him take his time. A silent promise to make it worth your while.

When his thumb finds your clit again it's an even softer touch — a whisper rather than steady contact. And somehow, somehow that barely there touch, that torturously reserved brush of his thumb has your eyes flying wide and your back arching off the bed so intensely your breath lodges in your throat.

You tug, trying to get your wrists free, the demand to pull him closer nearly short-circuiting your brain, but his hold on them doesn't budge.

"Mmm, how do you want to come, honey?" He hums against your skin, biting down on the hickey he's leaving on the swell of your breast before moving his attention to the other one. His thumb keeps a teasing pace on your clit, giving you more pressure and easing off just when the pressure in your lower belly begins to build.

Up, up, up and then gone.

So close, so so close, and then poof.

Gone.

His tongue drags across your nipple before he pulls back and blows a cool breath of air across the glistening nerves, sending a rush of goosebumps across your entire body.

His thumb adds a little more pressure, a little more friction, and you’re sure you might cry. You might actually cry. It feels so good.

Your entire body is tense, nearly about to hit that peak when he pulls his thumb away again.

Your head slams back against the bed, frustration flooding your veins. Your orgasm is trying to break free, to claw its way out of you. Like water receding from the shore before a tsunami, the air in your lungs is gone, the control over your shaking legs, your shaking arms, your shaking hands — towed away from you.

He sucks on your nipple hard enough to fling white dots over your vision like confetti, and even now, you can feel the haughty smile tugging at his lips as he pulls back to watch you writhe under him because he knows, he knows you're too far gone to answer him.

"Like this?" he slides a finger into you and you nearly shatter. Nearly, nearly, nearly. Please.

You can't breathe. You can't think. You can't respond. You shake your head and tug your wrists feebly. You want him. You want him.

He adds another finger and you moan so loud it echoes back to you.

He curses, pulls his fingers away, and as you nearly break into hysterics at the loss of contact, at the loss of the climax that was so close you could nearly taste the endorphins on your tongue, he releases your wrists and wraps your legs around his hips.

"No. No sweet girl, you're going to come with my cock buried deep in your pretty pussy." His words are a promise against your ear and finally, finally he thrusts into you as he murmurs against your lips. "Come on my cock, baby. Let me see how fucking gorgeous you are when you come on my cock."

It's instantaneous. The tsunami hits with the first thrust of his hips and your throat burns with the scream that rips through your room. It's nearly a sob — a sob of relief, a sob of ecstasy, a sob of pure pleasure.

Every nerve in your body is a live wire, lighting up with the kind of mind numbing sensation that pulls you down so deep you can't process anything other than the feel of the waves. Like you’re just under the surface of the ocean, being pulled along with each rise and crash of the tide.

And then you blink and see the brilliant sunlight coaxing you back toward the surface, back to the air, back to reality. And it's only when you break the surface and your lungs unfreeze, helplessly tasting your first breath of air since they froze in your chest, that you realize the sun has been shrouded by a passing storm cloud, and the light, that brilliant light that brought you back is still here, radiating from the man on top of you. His face is nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his hips reaching a crescendo that sends another aftershock of pleasure flooding up your spine and he buries himself deep inside of you and stills, the heat of his climax pulsing inside of you, sliding down your thighs.

The room is silent other than your heavy breathing. Your fingers card through his hair, his lips grazing your collarbones. It’s only when your breathing steadies and your body completely relaxes that Jake scoops you up and heads into the shower.

“Ask the sunflower who she used to be, she will tell you she was the mortal who fell in love with me.” He hums.

Your head rests lazily on his shoulder, the warm spray hitting your back. This was the perks of waking with the sun. There’s no rush. Rough fingers trail up and down your spine. He didn’t need to get in the shower again, but he knows it’s a comfort.

“I think if I gave you my heart you’d treat it tenderly.” You whisper into his skin.

“Icarus,”

Meeting his gaze, your breath catches. Jake’s looking at you with such devotion, total adoration. There is no questioning how he feels for you. You know without a second thought that he’d go to the end of the world for you. Smiling softly, you push up on your toes, lips meshing softly with his.

It’s a Sunny afternoon. Not a cloud in the sky. A perfect day for flying. You and the rest of the dagger squad are sitting around the empty classroom. It’s a Friday, the last day of the month, and something in your veins sings. Turning to look when you hear approaching footsteps, your eyebrows raise at the devious look written all over Maverick’s face.

“Who’s up for a dogfight?”

You turn to meet your wingman’s excited gaze. In the end it’s always you and Coyote up against Rooster and Hangman. Nine times out of ten, you come out on top. Maverick is barking out instructions as you make your way to Javy. But you pause, brows furrowing when Mav repeats his words. Teams are being split up. Suddenly you’re looking into familiar sea glass eyes. A crooked grin taking up his face.

“Looks like I’m your wingman, Icarus.”

There’s no hiding your smile. When was the last time you had flown with Jake? When you were both stationed in Lemoore. God, that was right after you graduated Top Gun.

“You ready to win for once?”

“Ouch,” Rooster says appearing next to you. “That hurt.”

You snort, turning to Javy, his hand already out for your secret handshake. “See you up there.”

“See you up there.” You turn to Rooster with a grin. “Fights on.”

Maverick always makes the four of you go last. It’s a training exercise, it’s not supposed to be fun. When you love doing what you’re doing, and love the people you’re doing it with, how could it not be fun? You’re all so competitive too, so it makes it easier.

Up in the air, head in the clouds surrounded by golden sunlight, Jake’s voice in your ear — you’re right where you’re meant to be. A dynamite duo, the both of you falling into place like you’ve never been separated. Coyote gets marked first, and you can’t help your wince. Better him than you. Rooster’s pulling out all the stops, but he’s flying like he’s forgotten who his wingman is, and who’s team he’s on.

“That’s a kill.”

You giggle at the smirk in Jake’s voice. Can only picture the annoyance that decorates Rooster’s brow. Why Jake got under his skin so much, you didn’t know. They’ve gotten better, but it's still funny from time to time. You look over when Jake appears next to you, he nods, motioning for you to head back to base.

It’s a bird strike.

There are too many voices raging in your head, trying to be heard over the excessive blaring of alarms. It’s not your first time, the left engine is out. It’s fine. You know what to do. Jake’s voice echoes in your ears when you go to start the right engine. It’s on fire.

You’re burning in the sky. It’s fine. You’re cool, calm and collected. Until you eject and your parachute isn’t working. It’s not fucking opening. You tug and tug only to get the same result. If you make it out alive, you’ll never be able to fly again. It’s the first time you’ve ever taken your callsign to heart. Icarus. Would Apollo really let you fall? Catch fire by the very sun that he pulls across the sky? Would he stand by and watch as the wax melted from your wings?

You remember the poem your mother used to read to you. About how Icarus laughed as he fell. The sun painted everything in shades of gold. He was the center of the fire. Triumphant in his fall, even though he should be soaring. Death breathed burning kisses, blazing trails down your back. Your screams go lost in the wind. Pulling and pulling you could not bring yourself to laugh. Your Apollo would never let this happen to you. Images of Jake and the life you have, the future you want flash before your eyes. Your eyes meet the sun, and you feel its warmth. You know what it was like to fly, and now you know what it was like to fall.

One more time, one more tug. Your breaths are short, eyes glued to the ground that is coming up fast. One more tug. With all the strength you have, you pull, and by some miracle, the parachute opens.

Tilting your head back, eyes on the sun, you can’t help but laugh.

You can tell you’re in a hospital by the starile air. Your body aches, but at least you know you’re alive. You can hear the heart monitor, the steady beeping. But the sound of your name catches your attention. Jake’s sitting beside the bed, your hand wrapped up in both of his, his lips brushing against your skin as he speaks.

“— take her away from me. I wouldn’t survive.”

This is something you shouldn’t be listening in on. Jake talking to a higher power, about you of all things. You flex your fingers wrapped up with his, letting him know you’re awake.

“Fuck, honey,” he says as your eyes open. “You scared me.”

“Scared you? I lived up to my callsign, Seresin.”

“Why did you wait so long?”

You cocked your head, brows furrowing. “Wait so long for what?”

“I watched you fall, Icarus. Why did you wait so long to pull the shute?”

“I-I didn’t. The parachute malfunctioned, Jake. I can’t tell you how many times I pulled on it before it finally gave.”

Jake shakes his head, grip tightening on you. “Are you telling me I could’ve lost you?”

You smile, pulling your hand free to trail your fingers along his chain, thumbing over the rising sun. “I don’t think he would’ve let me fall.”

“Who?”

“Apollo.” You say, meeting his eyes. “He let his own Icarus fall, I don’t think he could do it a second time. I think he knew how much I needed my Apollo.”

He doesn’t say anything, eyes closing when your hand cups his cheek, five o’clock shadow rough against your palm. Your heart breaks when a tear falls from his eye. Pulling him to you, your lips clash with his, clumsily reminding him that you’re right here.

“I love you, you can’t leave me.”

As if. You couldn’t leave him if you tried. Drawn to him always. He’s the reason you're alive, you’re sure of it. So you smile, leaning in to kiss him once more.

“I love you too.”

#jake hangman Seresin x reader #jake hangman Seresin x you #jake Seresin x reader #jake Seresin x you #hangman Seresin x reader #hangman Seresin x you #jake seresin smut #jake hangman fic #jake Seresin one shot #top gun: maverick fanfic

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gutsby · 1 month

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listen...allow me to plant an image. bucky hovering over you, plowing into you. and his dogtags are dangling right in your face as he gets lost in the 🐱. the sound of them clashing, feeling of them dragging across your face while his cock drags in and out.

what if they slip in your mouth while you moan.

idk just a thot.

WHAT IF THEY— IN YOUR MOUTHSJ;$??

babe you’re insane but what if he also made you bite them? at times when you’re getting too overstimulated antsy and you really can’t keep those filthy little moans to yourself no matter how hard you try so bucky has you take the dogtags between your teeth and tells you to smile real pretty for him, be nice and sweet for daddy and bite the metal while he fucks youuuuuuuuuUGH

#ILY FOR THIS BTW #ask

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winters8child · 4 days

Text

It´s been a long, long time

This chapter is just smut, its not very explicit but if thats not your thing, just skip it. Thanks to everyone reading my story so far, loves. <3

Chapter 13

I hurriedly shut the door, turned around and threw my arms around his neck, pulling him closer for a kiss. He responded eagerly engulfing me in a passionate embrace, with our bodies pressed tightly together and our breathing becoming heavier and faster. We broke apart briefly and glanced at each other before returning full force to the kiss, hands running along each other's backs and necks, with fingers interlocking and our bodies molding together. The passion was electrifying and palpable, leaving both of us feeling a surge of adrenaline and arousal as we made our way to my bed.

We locked eyes as we undressed quickly and when I took of my dress, my eyes fell on the ladybug pin on my collar. I hesitated and contradicting thoughts went through my mind and when Bucky noticed that I had stopped undressing, he came up behind me and started kissing my neck asking "Everything alright?". I could feel the naked skin of his chest pressed up against me, sending a shiver through me. I folded up the dress, in a way I could not see the pin anymore and put it on my dresser.

He put his arms around me from behind and kept kissing my neck up and down, while his hands roamed my body. Goosebumps spread all over my skin and I could feel the arousal intensifying. I wanted this, I craved it for years and now it was happening and I could feel that he wanted this just as much. His hands went lower and lower until his right hand reached my sensitive nub while his left hand grabbed my breast. My breath quickend and pure lust was taking over my mind, the kissing in combination with his lithe fingers touching all the right spots pushed me over the edge faster than I had anticipated.

I came apart in his arms and my legs almost gave up under me so Bucky picked me up and carried me over to my bed, all the while peppering my face with kisses. He laid my down, hovered over me and kept on kissing me, getting more and more intense. His dogtags where dangling over me and reminding me that this was our last night together. I pulled him closer by his tags, spreading my legs so he could gain acces to my more sensitive areas. He stopped kissing me and gave me a serious look "Are you sure?", he seemed like he wanted to ask more but was not sure how to put it. "I want it to be you, my first. Make me yours.", I told him while I reached down and stroked his erection,

His eyes fluttered shut and he started groaning, grinding himself against my hand. I liked seeing him like this, losing control of something I did to him. I quicked up the pace but he stopped me "Wait or this is all over before it even started Doll", he said smiling. "Sorry I got carried away", I apologized. Before I could say anything else, I could feel his tip at my entrance as he stroked my face with a questioning look. I pulled him closer and lifted my hips at the same time, leaving no doubt that I really wanted this.

Slowly he inched his way in and I felt a burning sensation, trying to accomdate to his girth but which subsided quickly and made me breathe out any feeling of tension. He did not take his eyes off me, pushing in and out in a languid pace, dragging out every friction. I felt every inch he gave me, eliciting sounds out of me, I did not know I could make. He grabbed my ass and lifted it off the bed, so he could reach all the way inside me, making my eyes roll to the back of my head. He was going faster now, not beeing able to hold back anymore and I felt things I had never felt before. I have had orgasms before, my own fingers knew their way around my body but this felt entirely different.

I closed my eyes, tugged the sheets and let go of any inhibition, as my moans grew louder and louder I could hear Bucky trying to hold back his grunts but I did not want him to hold back. I grabbed his butt, pushing him deeper into me urging him on, moaning "I want to hear you", into his ear. "I cant or I will bust…", he growled.

"I want all of it, just let go", I told him and moved my hips up and down and he followed suit. It did not take long and Bucky was shaking and grunting, his grip on my ass growing stronger and a part of me hoped he would leave bruises. He grunted one final time and emptied his load inside of me, panting heavily. He leaned down to kiss me and said "And now let me take care of you". He pushed his fingers inside of me in a quick motion until I came just in a matter of seconds. He kissed me deeply before he went to the bathroom and came back with a wet cloth. He cleaned me up and then himself.

We cuddled up under my blanket, trying to sleep. I could hear him snoring just after a couple minutes but I stayed awake, staring at the dress with Steves pin on the collar.

#sebastian stan #bucky barnes #marvel #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers #the avengers #fanfiction

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palephx · 2 years

Text

Dog Tag Drag, part 3 of 3.

#military guys #dogtag drag #tattoos

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angelpuns · 9 months

Note

Ranting anon is actually v interested in ur new au- so they are gonna make a lil list of questions-

Do any of the dudes have a specific thing abt their design that's special to them and like actually has a lil meaning

Does splinter particularly dislike anything about each of them

How often do you think they'd go out together

Do any of them have specially unhealthy and noticeable habits

Who's the quietest and loudest

Who spends the most time alone or with others

Who do u think is more willing to go out in public

Do any of them have a specific interest they can't seem to shake

Fav water brands (bc there is a difference! Nirvana and Aquafina SUCK!!!)

that's all for now :3 have a good day, drink some water, treat urself, don't forget to go outside every once in awhile <3 <3 (I am not rereading this so sorry for any mistakes, brain is still taking a vacation)

HOHOHOOO IM GLAD YOURE EXCITED CAUSE IM V V EXCITEDD

I'll go one by one for the first one ( they don't have super special meanings or anything, just things they like )

Leo ofc has his stars! He just really likes space and the star motif is super cute!! He also has his scarf, its just got all their colors on it - he sewed on the little bits himself.

Mikey likes to make bracelets and has a MASSIVE collection, so he's always wearing em.

DONNIE HAS A TOOLBELT!!! It holds all his stuffs!

Raph has his ripped pants - which he wears exclusively to spite Leo. Also has some dogtags that he found on the ground and decided he was gonna keep forever ( for funsies )

I think Splinter probably thinks that Leo is too...irresponsible? He expects a certain degree of responsibility that Leo doesn't really hit. He also is transphobic :)

For Mikey he definitely seems to blame him for things that aren't his fault. On the other hand, Mikey is also very messy, hates doing chores and Splinter can't stand that.

Same sort of thing for Donnie, but much less so. Excuses it away with compliments and stuff. He is the favorite child after all.

For Raph its like he doesn't even know he exists. He barely talks to Raph or really??? Worries about him?? He's just overlooked due to being the same age as Donnie ig

They go out together all the time! They usually end up arguing, but its always a lot of fun! Sometimes Raph n Donnie stay at home, but almost always its all four of em. Raph and Mikey also go out on their own ( separately ) a lot.

Uhhhhhhh I am actually gonna hold off on answering that cause I have a comic I wanna make about one of Leo's habits ( tee he its just one of my habits but anyway ).

Raph chews on his mask tails. Not really unhealthy but def noticeable. Mikey chews his nails like so so bad. I'll add more when I think of em :)

Quietist is Donnie for sure, Raph is the loudest. Mikey is the second loudest. Leo can be loud if he needs to.

Leo spends the most time alone, he doesn't really have much going on as far as a social life. Raph has a lot of friends and that's usually who he's hanging out when he's out.

Raph is the most likely to go out in public. Sometimes its to spite Leo and sometimes he just wants to go hang out in the city. Occasionally he'll drag Mikey out with him.

Leo has been into space since he was a kid and he hasn't been able to shake it since, Mikey n Raph ofc have their art. Donnie has his tech. The last three are more like just huge aspects of their personalities at this point. Mikey has been watching Project Runway nonstop for like 2 years ( Leo got him into it )

I don't know any water brands- Raph and Mikey are the only two that actually drink water and I think they drink a store brand? Leo drinks tap water :) Donnie is eternally dehydrated

THANK YOU FOR ALL THE QUESTIONS I AM HAVING A BALL!!!

I feel a LITTLE bad posting about them so much when Kid Leo isn't over but its my coping mechanism <3333

Enjoy my rambles haha

#angelpuns tmnt iteration #TMNT:HME #TMNT:HME asks

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bleachedjuice · 1 year

Text

'To Whom The Bells Toll' pt.3

👹 oooggggaaa boogggaaa

Warnings: Foul language, and pure angst/ mutual pinning(cause im just slick like that)

Enjoy 😌🫡

Staring at the mirror, you felt like hurling your lungs out, 3 in the morning, and here you sat. Or well stood. Utterly aching for breath and not finding it, tears burning your eyes.

The call came to you just moments ago, awaking you from your futile tossing and turnings to try and rest in order to face a day of paperwork for today's morning and afternoon training.

They wouldn't allow you to go.The family got the news last night, after you filed proper paperwork in the middle of the night,and the government received it from Laswell... and then the family was almost immediately notified. But Laswell denied your request to go to her service. Claiming, "that there is bigger things at hand that need you to be here and present y/n. I can not allow you to leave, I'm sorry."

You remembered just grinding your teeth to the point that they still ached, or perhaps that's from your bruised tongue that now was sour and sore with aches from how hard you had bitten down on it whilst she had told you.

Sorry.

She was fucking sorry.

Scoffing you then glared at your disheveled self. Eye bags...hair a mess. And your eyes utterly bloodshot, either from crying in your sleep or the lack of sleep in your system now. Either way, you're livid and exhausted

Almost shoving the sink away from your body, you resumed into motion, away from that small snippet of time that held you, and now here you were. Trudging to your bed, aching, hoping. For any kind of relief that a small amount of sleep would give to you, even for a mere moment. Just a small relief from that reality you had to face in the longer hours of the mornings bitter attitude and feeling in your bones.

Your socked feet padded on the floor quietly, and once your bed came into view as you exited the private bathroom of your barrack, you slammed into its thin cushioning and felt yourself utterly groan into your pillow before a couple movements and later. And here you were. Passed out cold. Saving the last of your strength from yesterday for today.

And out you went, drifting yourself to a somewhat comfortable rest that caused your bones to stop aching the mourning grief that you now felt.

Awakening to your quiet hum of an alarm, you found yourself on autopilot, dragging yourself out of your warm cocoon and into the bathroo where you brushed your teeth and washes your face until you put on deodorant. And only then did you walk out and quiet literally yanked your clothes on, simple black sweats and a tight light clothed under Armour green tee-shirt, before stomping out of your barracks to retrieve the piles of paperwork from Prices office. Yours and Serenas dogtags clinking as you marched.

Your boots scuffed on the cold pavement of the tiles floor as congregating soldiers and privates slid past you in the halls, you were intimidating. Stared at. Gaucked at. Because of the way your face looked, knurled and angry. A scar that proved one thing, you where alive.

And Serena was not.

Groaning at the though, you shoved it down the throat of your brain and back into the pit of your stomach, and felt it sink in the dephs of your chest, making it difficult to breath let alone stand at the moment. And yet you swallowed it and held it and marched your way to Prices office.

Once arriving at the end of the hall, you stood at the dark wooded door. And knocked, your knuckles rapping against the wood three times in a rhythm. And then a low voice awnsered.

"Come in."

Price.

Letting out the breath you've been holding, you twisted the knob, almost retracting at how cold it was. Before entering, and there you stood, eyes locked with fucking König as he sat in one of the two chairs before Prices desk. Pursing your lips and narrowing your eyes at him, you then directed your attention to Price, your voice low and guttural. Like a snarling animal.

"Came for Laswells paperwork that she sent for me."

And you read Prices expression, stuttered, but coarse. An acknowledging look. He knew what it was like to lose men, soldiers. Brothers and sisters. He gave a slight tilt of his head that seemed to ask, 'Are you ok?' And you gave him a slight knod. And with one tilt of the head of König, who sat man spread with arms crossed, revealed that he noticed. Narrowing your gaze, you felt your hackles raise,more so the hair on the back of your neck stood right up. And so did your eyes. You could just feel them dilating as you snapped your gaze to him from the corner of your eye to Prices hand, which now held plenty of thick files that needed to be done. That Laswell needed done. Giving a short "Thanks, Price." You left and practically slammed the door behind yourself and slid through the halls like a snake, avoiding conversation, avoiding confrontation. just avoiding. Anyone and anything. And made your way to the kitchen. And with a sweet bliss of one thing going right in your life, your Case of 20oz coconut redbulls laid untouched. With a quick swipe, you held two in one hand, and your paperwork was in the other and solely slicked to the quietness of your "office" that they placed you in for the time being while being out here. Holding all the materials you'd need and file cabinets holding all the information you needed to have. A small corner office,tucked away from everyone and everything with a simple desk with three drawers on each side and a slim long one above the space your legs go, a bulletin board with maps and photos of a trace board you created whilst trying to connect certain things to certain people that you needed to find out. A filling cabinet behind your left side of the swivel chair that was in the room, an simple office chair, and then a lamp in the corner of the room and one on the desk And a simple cacti you placed on the desk to keep you company, placing your files down and then your redbulls you situated your seating in your chair and dove into a quick swig of a energy drink and then into the paperwork you went.

Rubbing your eyes, you then hummed in content, seeing that you now were done. But utterly miserable. Glancing at the clock you gazed at it, your visions blurred before a quick blinking moment stroked it away. 2:45pm.

Not bad. Gave you give or take two hours to have an hour and a half workout or two hours to yourself. With a quick stretch out of your seat, you slammed the rest of the remaining last redbull and tucked your chair in before organizing the folders and made your way to drop them at Prices office. Once doing that, quick and bitter exchange you made your way to the gym area, aching for a good workout to get your mind off of what happened the day before. Anything to get the feeling of her blood and breath off of your mind.

It seemed like eternity,your body aching with sweat and burning from the workout you had encased yourself into. And now here you were, pushing out the still remaining aggressiveness you had over yourself that seemed to never end.

And mid push up, you heard footsteps, and with a quick glance..König. Ignoring the presence of the mountain that had just entered the room, you then felt yourself feeling no use... three hours and no sign of your anger burning out. Nothing. Grunting, you then went to push yourself up only to hear quick steps your way, and before your reflexes could kick in due to the fogged up aggressiveness that haltered it. A knee firmly slammed you down and knocked the choked air out of you.

Laying your palms flat and gritting your teeth, you let out a hiss. You expected it to be someone tolerable. Someone close, Soap or even Simon.

"Get up ."

König. Glaring at him over your shoulder, you felt your nostrils flare as you spoke, guttural. Growling.

"Get. The. Fuck. Off. Of. Me."

"frech, get me off- "

Cutting himself off, he glowered down toward your ear, and before you could snap back at him, he wrapped his thick forearm around your throat, cutting your air off in a threatening, uncomfortable manner. Reminding you of the ice cold water enveloping you from the night before. Choking you.

"König I'll fuc-"

"Get me off, or else perhaps something like last will occur at the next mission, hm? A dead teamate and then an attack on your own personal? Fix it."

He seemed just as pissed as you. Maybe even more.

Sour nerve. You felt your eye lid twitch before a rumble of a yell erupted from you as you shifted your left knee up and used your palms to push up, thwaking your head back like a rearing mad horse, and struck him right on the head, and off your pushed him before you twisted and practically leapt on the man before colliding a harsh swipe at his chest with the base of your knuckle and gripped his shirt, your legs straddled his mid waist area as your used both your hands to hold his white shirt by the collar and gripped him up, your body to blinded by rage as you barreled down at his gaze, some red tint gleaming through his snipers mask.

"Do not think for one fucking moment that I don't utterly drown in last night's events. Her blood. Her breath. DO YOU FUCKING THINK THAT IT DOESNT FUCKING HAUNT ME?! EVEN FOR A MOMENT? ONE DAY ITS BEEN, AND YOUR ALREADY HOLDING IT OVER MY HEAD."

Your voice cracked with pain, hurt. You felt a burning sensation creep its way to your eyes.

"Do you not think for a moment that I want to go back in time to prevent it? Fuck you König."

Your eyes narrowed as your chest heaved, and you stared at his shocked expression before his gaze narrowed, and before you knew it he left hand had socked you and sent you sprawling as he threw you off of him with his hips and like a bear he was upon you,dragging you toward him by you upper knee area and under him he held you, only invoke you lunging at his loose held figure and sent him and you sprawling backwards, and with the momentum you thrashed forward with, and with him one reflex using his legs to push up, you both did a flip,and your back hit the ground with a thwack as he stared you as he held your shoulders down and his one leg pressed down on your knee. Holding you there. Hissing the words out to you like a panicked mother would to a child.

"Do not think for one moment Y/n that I don't see it. How you are today. I noticed it in Prices office."

And he lowered himself to your level, his gaze holding yours. Mere inches away from your noses touching. His bloodied spot spreading even more on his mask.

"So do not think that I want you to forget it. But now it is time for you to try and get better, to bot let it happen again. That is why I'm here now, that's why I'm here forcing you to feel it. To relive it."

And with a defeated huff, you glowered at him and thrusted your legs up forward and knocked his knee that held your legs down to the side with a swift sift of your weight before shoving him to the left before rolling ontop of him and straddled his hips before gripping his shoulders back at him.

"Do not think I will let that happen again."

"Gut."

And then you realized the position you were in, panting heavily against him. His one large, thick hand holding just above your knee area and the other flat palmed on the ground to brace his upper body. His gaze. And then you felt something below you.... You snapped off him like he had burned you before you spoke harshly, almost nervously at the mere moment.

"Your bleeding, go to med bay König."

"Hm. Fine liebling."

He spoke the last word that you didn't know with a tainting tone. And as you marched out of the gym door, he scoffed and got up,his pants suddenly feeling tight and his body too warm.

And then a mutter.

"Scheiße."

#konig cod #cod x reader #modern warefare 2 #könig x male reader #könig modern warfare #könig x reader #mw2 könig #könig x you #könig imagine

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socially-awkward-skeleton · 6 months

Note

[ reunion ] a longing kiss shared after being apart for a while -> your choice of ship <3

Thank you so much for the prompt! This one is actually a bit of a spoiler for near the end of American Beasts, but here you go, have some Kit and Jacob!

He watched as the soldiers of Eden’s Gate stumbled back to the safety of the Project’s compound. Their numbers cut down and bloodied, even less would be making it into the bunkers to see New Eden, the herd culled by the ingrates who called themselves the Resistance. The hollow men who’d seen war, now as tainted by it as he was, moved like shadows past him – but she was nowhere to be seen, his eyes trained to search out that red hair and those pale blue eyes in a crowd. His heart raced in his chest, his brow furrowed as he just kept searching the faces. He wouldn’t, couldn’t, let them see the fear that was steadily creeping up his spine.

Where the fuck are you, Kitty?

The last stragglers of the army passed through the gates, a slow trickle of souls. His jaw clenched tight, a cold glare landing on each one of them, some part of him questioning how they survived, but somehow she didn’t. She wasn’t there. He hadn’t even received a final radio call. No warning at all. She was out there somewhere gasping her last breath, dying, alone, surrounded by the weak. He was of the mind to march out there and find her, pick up a gun and fight till the last breath in his body was spent, even if it meant he’d end up rotting in the ground beside her. It was better than the future he had without her. The future without promise, without hope – only sacrifice.

Rounds fired into the night broke the darkness that started to swallow his thoughts, and Jacob’s gaze focused on the treeline. Raised voices screamed out slurs at their people, only to be hushed, met with utter silence as if blanketed in a fog that dampened sound, the same that creeped across the ground at his feet. Gunshots rang out once more, the trees bending and swaying, parting to make room for her. She dragged another of their people along with her, limping forward, more blood and broken bones than a man but like a good soldier she’d leave no one behind, having made a promise to Joseph as their Lion.

Jacob motioned for followers to come forward and collect the man in her arms. Picking off the last few members of the Resistance who’d chased them that far with his rifle. She stood before him unburdened, silent and staring. He had no idea if she was injured herself. She didn’t seem to care. Frozen like a deer in the headlights, he was afraid to touch her. Was she just some ghost, another figment of his imagination? As if the moment he touched her she’d turn to sand and blow away in the wind.

She gazed up at him, her face dotted with blood spray, strands of red hair blowing around her face and shoulders in the breeze, braid falling loose down her back. Her breath plumed out in a cloud of fog with each heavy exhale, stare unwavering as she clung to the dogtags that hung around her neck.

“Please tell me this is real. That this isn't some sorta goddamn dream,” he husked.

“I’m here.” Her voice was hoarse, worn down from shouting out orders.

Without wasting a single moment or another thought, he reached out in an instant reflex and cupped her face in his hands, thumbs stroking over the peaks of her cheeks as his mouth crashed down against hers. The briny scent of her sweat mixed with the smoke of fire and gunpowder, tinged with the metallic tang of blood. It was her, she was real, and he was absolutely enveloped by her. His lips devouring her, hungry and aching, starving for the future he'd thought he lost.

He brushed his fingers through her hair, knotting them up in her tresses, only to be gripped in return, her hands digging into his back, proving she was going nowhere, that she'd always come back home. The dog tags he gave her clanked between them, ringing out in the dark with each desperate meeting of his lips with hers. He hated to think that he might have ever been given the opportunity to forget how she tasted.

His forehead pressed to hers, frozen stare taking in her angel face streaked with the remnants of violence, he couldn't believe he could be this fucking lucky to have here there, alive. “Look at me.”

Her eyes fluttered open, a gaze as cold and icy as his own meeting him, but in them he saw none of the deep seething anger that others witnessed with fear, he just saw light. He saw hope, and for a minute, he thought he could believe it, despite what the rest of the world had shown him.

Pale eyes focused on her, hardened by a life that had never been easy. “I thought I'd lost ya.”

“I'm not that easy to kill.”

“Just you and the cockroaches.”

Her soft caress against his jaw was almost too much to bear. Something gentle despite the brutality he knew those hands were all too capable of.

“I'm always going to come back to you. Always.”

#kiss prompts #ship: the wolf and the wildcat #american beasts spoilers sorta kinda #jacob seed #oc: kit cross #thanks for the prompt!

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