Cod Ghosts X Reader - Blog Posts

hmm what about enemies to lovers w/ Kick? Kind of going along with the head cannons you made of why they don’t like you. Sorry if it’s not much, I fear that’s the best my mind can make up 😔

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎 ˚｡⋆♡༘˚ ❀ੈ♡˳───────𖤐˚︵︵˚𖤐───────♡ੈ❀

✧ 𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐄: Enemies to lovers with kick ✧ 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌: Call of Duty Ghosts ✧ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: Kick ✧ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Character X G!N! reader! ✧ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: Slow burn, enemies to lovers ✧ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Verbal conflict, emotional tension, enemies-to-lovers dynamic ✧ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4030

The First Meet

You were former field intel—trained, tested, and hardened. Sharp in both strategy and aim. When they assigned you to dual-capable support, it wasn’t a promotion, it was a need. A solution. Someone who could bridge both ends of the op.

The assignment to the Ghosts' station wasn’t by your request. It was abrupt, high-priority. They didn’t want just anyone—they needed someone who could run comms, decrypt under pressure, and still hit targets without hesitation. That someone was you.

You walk into the base’s comms bay for the first time. The air is cool, the low hum of screens buzzing. You crack the door open slightly, not wanting to interrupt.

He’s there—locked in, eyes narrowed, sharp brows drawn in deep concentration. He doesn’t even glance your way. Maybe didn’t hear you. Maybe he did, and just didn’t care.

But from that first glimpse, you could already tell: he’s the type who doesn’t waste focus. And now, you were stepping into his world.

He doesn’t look up when you walk in. Voice low, flat, and laced with sarcasm: “If you’re delivering coffee, make it strong. If not, I need some cigarettes.”

You glance sideways, unimpressed but unmoved. Cool and composed. “I’m your new handler for recon data.”

That’s when he pauses. Eyes lift to meet yours.

Amber—no, gold, almost glowing under the wash of the screen light. A fleeting moment of surprise flashes across his face, subtle but there.

“Oh. Good,” he says, finally leaning back in his chair, tone dry as ever. “Try not to fry my drive like the last guy did.”

You arch a brow. The game had begun—and clearly, this wasn’t going to be a quiet assignment.

You didn’t flinch. Just crossed your arms and replied coolly, “Not here to babysit any driver. Just to make sure you don’t brick the mission while you're being clever.”

That was it—the spark. The gate to the classic enemies-to-lovers chaos creaked open right then and there.

He didn’t hate you, no. But damn, did he dislike you. The attitude, the sharp tongue, the way you came in like you already had the place mapped. Kick couldn’t stand people who came off too smart, too fast. Especially ones who mirrored his own bite.

He paused, your words hanging in the air, then sighed—lips twitching into a slow, amused smile. He stood, gaze leveled, one brow raised. “What did you just say to me?”

You didn’t back down. “Well, Kick, I’ve heard what you did when you first—”

He cut you off with a scoff, “Yeah, did. And what is it? ‘Bygones be bygones’? English not your first language or somethin’?”

That was the first round. A volley of sharp words and stubborn faces. Neither of you backed off—and maybe that’s exactly why it started to matter.

The Tension Builds

Week one? It’s a cold war dressed as teamwork.

You deliver your part of the job—clean, precise. He mocks you with nothing but a look, that infuriating half-lidded stare like he's already picked apart everything you've done. You feel it.

He delivers next—and you critique, straight-faced, surgical with your words. Every joint task turns into a quiet, brutal game of chess.

When you double-check his system patch before a field op, he doesn’t argue. Just shrugs, clicks a few keys, and redoes it. Not because he cares—no. But to let you know he really doesn’t care.

Later, during a mission brief, you silently reach into his routing code and correct it mid-scan. Not flashy. Not even out loud. Just enough to keep the op running clean.

Hours later, when the tension is finally dying down, his voice cuts in behind you—low, even: “I thought I told you not to touch the codes I work on again.”

You don’t even turn around. You’re trying to enjoy what little peace you’ve got.

With a sigh, you reply, “It’s my job too. What if the data report was filled with fake intel?”

There’s a pause. And behind you, you swear you hear the smallest scoff of approval—buried in annoyance.

Yeah. Cold war. For now.

Kick isn’t the type to beef. He doesn’t waste time on ego games—too seasoned, too practical. If it doesn't serve the mission, it’s noise.

So after that first week of sparks and code edits, the tension just… fizzles. Not into warmth, not yet—but into mutual exhaustion. You both have work to do, and not enough energy to keep clashing.

The coldest thing he does is withhold. Support, emotion, any trace of personal investment—he keeps it all sealed behind that quiet, unreadable calm.

And because you're both adults, professionals, and frankly too tired to keep drawing battle lines, it just... levels out.

One evening, over systems check, he says it offhand while typing: “Didn’t think I’d meet someone here who could keep up. You’re not half bad.”

It catches you off guard. You look over, blinking. “You either…”

No smile. No softness. But it lands different. Not flirty. Not dramatic. Just… respect, finally cracked open.

After that, the silence shifts. Not cold anymore—charged. You feel him watching during ops. Long glances. Nothing said.

Kick doesn’t fall fast. He fights it, like it’s some mission breach.

But you got under his skin. And he’s not used to bleeding quietly.

The quiet understanding? Gone. Work’s tense now—not personal, but pressure-cooked from the mission load.

Kick’s hunched over the relay case, calibrating for the infiltration op. You spot a flicker—diagnostic lag. Instinct kicks in. You override part of the setup without asking.

His jaw tightens instantly.

“What the hell are you doing?”

You don’t back down.

“Fixing what you missed. You forgot to compensate for the static backflow on the east relay. If I hadn’t—”

“If?” he cuts in, voice sharper now, “You wanna bet comms failing mid-op on your name? Because I don’t.”

He snatches the cable from your hand. You don’t flinch.

“I’ve pulled people out of worse with a busted mic and a bent antenna. You don’t get to lecture me like I’m green.”

That’s the crack. The voice raises. The weight of the job pressing down.

His reply is low, clipped:

“Then stop acting like it. You want this job or a pissing contest?”

It hangs in the air. Both of you glaring, hearts racing—not because of each other, but because everything around you is too much.

The tension erasing slowly

You and Kick were on the same field support op. You were almost pinned in crossfire during retreat — and he didn't loop your comm in time.

When it’s over, you're walking back into the safehouse. He’s trying to defuse it with nothing.

Inside, Kick’s already ditched his vest, silent as ever. When you step in, he looks up only briefly and mutters: “Good to see you alive.”

It’s stiff. Distant. Not like him—not after months of working together, knowing each other’s tones, silences, everything.

You pause. Then exhale with a dry, tired smile, eyes half-lidded like sleep was dragging you down where you stood. “I think if I had gone down, you’d still be making jokes about it.”

He doesn’t answer right away. You finally lift your gaze to his—and for once, it’s not guarded.

Just worn. Jaw tight. Guilt sitting somewhere behind those amber eyes.

It hits. Hard. You can see it in his eyes—no snark, no defensive walls. Just a raw, quiet thing that makes the whole room feel smaller.

Kick doesn’t say anything, but that look of his? It’s a heavy one. Like it’s all falling into place—things he doesn’t want to admit.

“Oh man…” he mutters, eyes narrowing, face still as stone. “Can’t believe you. After months of working and enduring my asshole behaviors, you now think I don’t care if you die? I thought you were good at reading people.”

You tilt your head, something sharp flickering behind your eyes. You step closer, voice steady but cutting: “I think you care more about being right than being reliable.”

The words sting. You see the tension coil in his shoulders, but he doesn’t back down. Instead, he lets out a low chuckle, though it’s tight. “You really know how to make a guy want to punch drywall, you know that?”

You can’t help it. You chuckle too—half tired, half bitter, but there’s something else there too. Maybe relief. “And yet you’re still standing here.”

For a moment, the air is thick. Neither of you makes a move, just standing there, locked in a silent tug-of-war.

Kick’s gaze softens for a brief moment—something you’ve never seen before, not from him. A flicker of warmth, quickly buried beneath that hard exterior.

He doesn’t say much, just that small, almost begrudging smile tugging at the corner of his lips. And then, the words come, slow and heavy like he’s not sure he even believes them himself. “You did good, Y/N... And don’t make me regret saying it again.”

You don’t respond. You’re too tired, too caught off guard by the rare glimpse of approval to even form the words.

He doesn’t wait for your reply. He just turns and walks out, leaving you standing there, staring after him as the door closes.

You shake your head with a quiet exhale. It’s not the apology you expected. It’s not the comfort you wanted. But maybe... maybe it’s enough.

Well, he’s not that bad.

You don’t know how long you stand there, but when you finally leave the room, the weight of the mission and the weight of what’s been said still hangs in the air. Neither one of you has said the things that need saying, but for once, you both understand.

After that moment, everything between you and Kick shifts. It’s not obvious—no sudden confessions or grand gestures. It’s in the quiet, the moments when the tension between you both starts to loosen just a little, bit by bit.

You find yourself slipping into conversations with him that you never thought you’d have. No more sharp words or unspoken grudges. Just... talking. Just being.

And you start noticing things. Small things. The way his gaze lingers for a moment longer than usual. The soft exhale he lets out when he’s finally out of a mission zone, or when his eyes catch yours unexpectedly. It’s almost like he’s letting you in without even realizing it.

One night, the conversation shifts. You’re sitting in the mess hall, the low hum of conversation around you, but the two of you are lost in your own little world.

You catch yourself asking, voice softer than you expect: “You ever get tired of this? The waiting. The quiet. The silence just before it all goes to hell?”

Kick’s brows furrow, a rare sign of uncertainty, as he thinks about the question. The silence stretches, and you wonder if you’ve asked something too deep.

Finally, he answers, voice low and steady: “Sometimes. But not right now.”

You don’t say anything after that. You just let the quiet settle in, the unspoken weight of his words lingering between you both. He’s not exactly opening up, but he’s still here. Present. And that, for now, is enough.

Kick’s the kind of guy who doesn’t let silence last too long. He’ll fill it with something—anything—to break the tension. Whether it’s rambling about the latest op or ranting about some random thing that’s bothering him, he’s always got something to say.

And you get used to it, the way his voice cuts through the quiet, his words bouncing off the walls, pulling you into his world. It’s just who he is, a talker at heart.

But there’s something else you notice too, something that shifts over time. You’re sitting together one evening, the air thick with unspoken words. Kick leans back, hand instinctively reaching for a cigarette, but before he lights it, he looks over at you.

“See? You’re not bad when you don’t smoke.”

You say it lightly, but you know there’s a part of him that’s changed. That used to be a constant, the cigarette, the smoke curling around him like a shield. But now, with you? He’s different.

Kick just shrugs, a half-smirk tugging at his lips, that familiar glint in his eyes. “Oh yeah? Don’t get used to it.”

And maybe, just maybe, you do get used to it. The way he’s shifting, the way he’s adapting, even if he won’t admit it. It’s not about the smoking anymore. It’s about him—about how he's willing to change little things for you, even if he won’t fully acknowledge it.

You’ve never been one to fish for validation. It’s not your style. But when Kick starts running his mouth—those familiar lines about things being “too easy” or “not challenging enough”—it’s hard not to notice the pattern. It starts sounding like a broken record, and you can't help but wonder if there's a part of him trying to convince himself more than anyone else.

You catch him in the middle of one of his rants, watching him as he struggles just a little—nothing big, but enough to make you think. It’s like he’s pretending not to feel the weight of it all.

You can’t help but tease him, leaning in just enough to throw him off balance with a suggestion: “If you need something, just ask, alright? I can... run a search, or fix something.”

He just glances at you, barely pausing from his task, a shrug in his voice as he responds: “Well, yeah. I’m good, thanks.”

You shake your head, about to head back to your own work, but something pulls you back to him, that nagging feeling that he won’t admit it even when he needs help.

“I mean, you could use someone to keep up with you.”

For the first time, there's a pause. Then, he looks up at you with a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Yeah? Guess you’re stronger than I thought.”

It’s said lightly, but you both know it means something more than just a casual comment. Something shifts in the air, a quiet acknowledgment between you two. And for a second, it feels like the walls between you are a little thinner.

When it broke all

You're now sitting in front of Kick, the room dim and quiet after the medic left. Just the two of you now, a low hum from some overhead light filling the silence. He’d been patched up — nothing too crazy, but still enough to make you wince when you looked at him. Scrapes, bruises, a stitched gash or two. The usual. His job was always messy like that. Being a tech specialist didn’t mean he got to sit behind a desk — more like crawling through collapsed buildings or trying to hack a terminal while bullets flew past his head.

You watched him breathe for a second. Still alive. Still stubborn. And then, you broke the silence.

“You know, at some point,” you said, pulling your legs up a little, “you’ll run out of places to get shot.”

He tilted his head toward you with a lazy half-smirk. “Then I’ll finally be symmetrical. Bonus.”

You didn’t smile. Not exactly. But something softened in your face. Maybe your eyes stayed on him a second too long. Long enough for him to notice, anyway. His smirk didn’t fade, but it quieted.

You reached over to the medkit sitting beside you, flipping it open with one hand, fingers sorting through gauze and antiseptic pads. You pulled out what you needed and glanced at him — a look that said, "May I?"

He just gave a slow nod, the kind he gave when words weren’t worth the effort. So you moved in closer, Your hands, still chilled from the metal table, met warm skin just below where the bandage ended. He stiffened. Just barely — the kind of flinch someone doesn’t mean to make.

“Sorry,” you murmured, not sure if you were apologizing for the cold or the closeness. Maybe both.

You leaned in a bit more, just slightly, head dipping down for a better angle. It wasn’t anything romantic — not intentionally — just practical. Close work meant being close. That’s all. But still, you could feel the space between you shrink. His breath slowed. You didn’t say anything about it, just started cleaning the wound, your touch careful.

He didn’t joke this time. Didn’t move. Just sat there, letting you patch him up again like he always did.

And you… you stayed right there, pretending your hands didn’t tremble a little as they brushed across the side of someone you were trying way too hard not to care about.

“From what I’ve heard,” you say quietly, eyes still on the angry red line across his skin, “the Federation had your photo on a kill list.”

He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t blink. But something shifts in his eyes — a flicker, like a match catching fire for a split second before going dark again. He looks at you then, not startled, not angry. Just... watching. Like he’s trying to read between your words, see what you’re really asking.

Kick’s voice comes out low, dry, like gravel under boots. “Yeah. I figured someone would’ve mentioned that.”

You don’t meet his gaze. Your hands keep working, steady and careful, cleaning the edge of the wound like it’s just another scrape on just another day. But the silence between your words carries weight.

“Doesn’t mean you stop being careful,” you mutter, not accusing, not gentle either — just honest.

His chest rises slowly under your fingers. A long breath in. He’s not the type to make promises. You both know that. But maybe that wasn’t what you were asking for.

Maybe you just wanted him to understand that someone is still watching, still keeping track of where he bleeds.

And maybe, just maybe, he already does.

“You knew. About the list.” His voice was low, like he was talking more to himself than to you. “And you’re still with me. Others would just be scared shitless for their lives.”

He said it like it didn’t matter — like it rolled off him easy. But it didn’t. You could hear the way he tried to bury the edge in his tone, how he made it a statement instead of a question just so he didn’t sound like he needed the answer.

You kept your eyes on his chest, still dabbing at the edge of the wound, slow and steady. The smell of antiseptic filled the air between you, sharp and clean.

“I’m your second on field,” you said simply. “I don’t abandon people mid-mission.”

A pause. The kind that stretched just long enough for him to maybe say something, but he didn’t. So you did.

Softer this time. Almost quiet enough to be missed if he wasn’t already listening.

“And you’re not just anyone out there.”

His breath caught — just a little. And your hand stayed right where it was, resting lightly against his chest, waiting.

Neither of you moved.

You don’t even realize how close you are until the air between you starts to feel thinner, heavier — like breathing takes just a little more effort now. Like something’s shifted and neither of you wants to name it.

Then his hand grazes your waist. Just that — a brush of skin, rough calluses against your ribs.

There’s no dramatic moment, no sharp inhale or trembling gasp. Just stillness. A long, weighty kind of silence where your eyes find his — and stay there.

You glance down, almost unsure, to where his fingers now rest gently against your waist. His hand, worn and scarred from years in the field, strong and steady, holding you like something fragile. Your eyes lift back to his, and there’s a quiet frown between your brows, your lips slightly parted, voice barely a breath.

“…Kick…”

But he’s already watching you. Expecting you. Like he knew this moment would come, he’d just been waiting for it to land.

“Yes, love.”

And then he leans in. Not reckless, not urgent. Just slow. Careful. Like he’s giving you every chance to stop him — but you don’t.

You don’t step back. You just meet him halfway.

The kiss isn’t soft, but it’s not rushed either. There’s no hesitation in it, only weight — the weight of everything unsaid, everything felt but never spoken. It’s steady. Grounded. Like both of you had been carrying something too heavy for too long, and now, just for this moment, you’ve found somewhere to set it down.

You stay there — not in a rush to pull away. Because this… this was never about timing.

The first kiss might’ve been steady — a question asked in silence — but the second… the second burns.

You don’t know who moved first, maybe it was both of you at once, but suddenly it’s not careful anymore. It’s need — sharp and unspoken — rushing in like a tide neither of you can stop.

You slip your hands up around his neck, fingers curling at the nape, holding on like you’re afraid letting go will break whatever this is. His hands find your waist, rough and certain, pulling you closer — close enough to feel his heartbeat, fast and hard against your chest.

Your mouths find each other again, this time deeper, messier, hungrier. The kind of kiss that doesn’t ask for permission anymore — it just takes. There’s heat in it now, in the way his lips press against yours, in the low, raw grunt he lets out when your nails brush against the back of his neck.

Both of you have your eyes shut, not needing to see when you can feel everything. The tension, the years of pretending, the battlefield closeness that’s finally collapsed in on itself — it’s all there, pressed between you.

And in that breathless space, nothing else exists. Not the mission. Not the kill list. Not the war outside the door.

Just you and Kick — two people who’ve seen too much, lost too much — finally letting themselves want something. Even just for a minute.

You both pulled back from the kiss, breathing a little uneven, like the air had changed shape around you and neither of you were quite ready to speak yet. The space between you hummed, charged and warm, and for a second, all you could do was look at him.

Then you smiled, crooked and knowing. “I just… I know it’s not your first time, Kick.”

He raised a brow at you “Damn. You got me. I was gonna ask if you’d sign my yearbook,” he said, deadpan, like the two of you were in some high school hallway instead of a half-lit room that still smelled like antiseptic and smoke.

You snorted. Just a little. But it slipped out, and he caught it.

He leaned back, still perched on the cot, watching you like you were the most interesting thing in the room. Which, let’s be honest, you were.

“So?” he asked, half-teasing. “Was it at least top five?”

You gave him a look, unimpressed but amused. “It was fine.”

“Fine? Fine?” His voice pitched up, full mock quite outrage. “You gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“You had a mild concussion and at least two broken ribs,” you replied, already turning toward the door. “I figured you deserved a morale boost.”

He grinned — smug, even through the wince of pain when he shifted. “Guess I’ll have to earn a real one next time.”

You didn’t answer.

But the silence you left behind wasn’t cold. It wasn’t awkward. It was filled with something heavier — certainty. The kind that didn’t need words, didn’t need to be spelled out.

You paused at the door, hand resting on the frame, and glanced back over your shoulder.

“And for the record,” you said, eyes flicking to his, “top five is generous.”

“Top three,” he called after you, smug as hell. “Don’t lie to yourself!”

You were gone before he saw the smile tug at your lips — that twitch you tried to suppress and failed miserably at.

And Kick leaned back, wincing at his ribs, a hand resting lazily across his chest, still smirking like he’d just won something.

Not bad for a first kiss under fire.

✧ Title: Logan Friends to lovers. [requested]

✧ Characters: Teammate! any! g! Reader X Logan walker.

✧ Summary: That’s a soft burn with sharp edges type of love. A quiet storm. The man doesn’t talk much, but when he loves, it’s with his whole chest—even if he doesn’t know how to say it out loud yet.

✧ Warnings: Nothing, SFW content.

Boy, how he wishes he could just voice his thoughts to you—say everything he feels without hesitation.

Logan’s a composed man, always keeping his emotions in check, keeping his look calm and unreadable.

But inside? He’s emotional. Deeply. He just buries it well, finding any excuse to brush the thoughts off, to pretend they don’t exist—because feeling too much is dangerous for someone like him.

He's the type to notice first, but not acknowledge it.

It starts with awareness.

How you always adjust your gear with purpose.

How your voice sounds over comms.

How you move through a room like you own the space but never demand attention.

Logan notices. Always. And it quietly messes him up.

"Don't be reckless," he tells you before a solo op. You shrug it off. He doesn't.He doesn't say he's scared. He just hands you a fresh mag without a word.

He doesn't talk about it. He just... starts doing more.

And let’s just say… you don't mind his company :)

He’s not clingy, never the type to hover or be constantly in your space—but he wants to be around you. Whether it’s casual chit-chat or just sitting in silence, your presence calms him.

If you’re talkative or social? Hooray, you’re his favorite kind of chaos—because honestly, he’s terrible at starting conversations. But he’ll listen to every word like it matters.

One time, he straight-up asked if he could clean your rifles or do your job for a bit—just to help, just to feel closer to what matters to you.

He always sits across from you at meal time, no matter who else is around. That’s your seat in his world.

And honestly hesh never noticed.

Once, during a casual conversation, you said, “Yes, well, Logan walker here is my teammate”

Logan’s lips parted slightly, eyes dropping to the floor. Teammates? I thought we are… dating. :(

The doubt started creeping in again. Especially when he saw you around the others—talking, working, joking like you always did. And with Kick? Yeah, that stung more than he’d ever admit.

He hated how bitter it made him feel. He isn’t the jealous type—He just wishes he make you laugh like this since he know he is damn well boring man or whatever you think about him.

But after you shared a laugh with a teammate and walked off alone with Logan again talking about the thing they talked about, something reckless slipped out.

Logan let out a dry laugh, brushing it off like nothing. “Yeah… can you imagine? He’s taken? Kinda Ridiculous.”

But beneath the sarcasm, it stung—because that wasn’t about them at all. That was about him.

It’s not a grand moment. It’s not a near-death confession. It’s a normal day where you two are laughing over something dumb someone did.

And Logan looks at you — really looks — and realizes: You’re the peace in the storm. The thing he never thought he deserved.

He doesn’t kiss you. He doesn’t confess.

He just… takes a breath.

"If I ever lose this, I don't know who I'd be anymore."

Logan is the type to keep things bottled. He doesn’t say much, but he watches. And he notices everything about you — the way you move during recon, how precise your movements are in the field, the way you handle weapons without wasting time. He admires it quietly.

"You didn’t miss a single shot today," he says one night, his tone unreadable. You raise a brow. "You counting now?" He shrugs. "Only yours."

It doesn’t feel flirty. It feels... like respect. Like interest he doesn’t know how to verbalize yet.

❖ How He Acts After He Knows

Logan’s not awkward, but he’s more… careful. Intentional. His protective nature turns up a notch, but subtly—he won’t smother.

More present when you’re talking, eyes calm and unreadable.

Always behind you in formation, but close enough that if something happens, he’s the first one there.

Noticing your habits, your tells, and memorizing the way you speak when you're tired, stressed, happy.

After realizing his feelings for you, Logan will become even more attuned to your actions and words.

He watches how you work, your posture, your mannerisms. There’s a slight shift in how he looks at you — not just out of respect, but with a level of curiosity he tries to bury.

His focus becomes sharper when you’re around, but he makes sure not to let it slip.

If you’re cleaning your weapon or checking your gear, Logan might catch himself staring a little too long, noticing the precise way you work.

He’ll look away quickly, trying to force his attention elsewhere. He’ll brush it off as nothing, but the truth is, his mind can’t help but wander.

Logan, after realizing his feelings, would likely become even more reserved with you, at least at first.

His calm, stoic demeanor will become more pronounced because he doesn’t want to make any mistake or seem vulnerable.

The last thing he wants is for his emotions to interfere with his professional behavior, so he keeps his distance, not in a cold way, but just in a "I need to stay focused" sort of way.

During a debrief or mission prep, he might address you the same way he addresses everyone else, but he might catch himself pausing for just a fraction of a second longer when you speak.

He’ll have that fleeting moment of wanting to say something — something personal — but he’ll stay silent, pushing those feelings aside to focus on the task at hand.

Despite his attempt at emotional distance, Logan’s care will show through in small, subtle ways.

It’ll be a glance when you’re stressed, a hand just a little too close to yours when passing gear, or a silent offering of something (like an extra water bottle or ration bar) that he knows you’ll need. (also wtf im writing)

After a long day of training or a mission, Logan might say something like, "I left a spare water bottle in your pack." It’s not much, but it’s a small, quiet gesture that shows he’s thinking of you without saying anything.

Another time, if you’re struggling with something, Logan might be there, ready to assist, but he won’t press. He’ll let you handle things your way, but if you need help, he’s right there.

Logan’s feelings for you cause him to question whether he has the luxury to indulge in them.

He's a man of duty, and being in a relationship might distract him from what he needs to do — his mission, his team, the bigger picture. This internal conflict creates moments of tension within himself.

During downtime, Logan might be sitting alone, looking out at the horizon or up at the stars, his mind caught in thought. He's thinking about you, but he's also thinking about the mission, his brother, his father, the team, his responsibilities.

There’s a sense of frustration when he doesn’t know how to balance his feelings and his role.

He might even mutter to himself, “I don’t have time for this.” But deep down, he knows he does, he just doesn’t know how to make space for it yet.

Confession

The air outside was cool, a crisp reminder that despite the tension of war, time still moved in subtle rhythms. You and Logan were on the outskirts of the base, sitting in the shadow of a makeshift barricade. The rest of the team had gone to bed or was deep in other tasks, leaving you two alone, as usual.

You had finished checking your tasks, doing the usual post-mission routine. Logan, who had been quietly focused on his own task, adjusted the strap on his rifle before leaning back, looking out into the endless horizon.

He’d been distant lately, more than usual. You could feel the shift, the weight in the air between you. You both knew something had changed, but neither of you had said a word about it — until now.

"Everything alright?" you asked, voice calm but laced with sweetness. You weren't sure if it was the mission weighing on him or something else, but you could tell he was in his head more than usual.

Logan looked over at you, his eyes briefly meeting yours. There was something in them, something you hadn’t seen before — vulnerability, maybe. Or maybe it was just the way he hadn’t really looked at you like that in a while. He sighed, just enough to show a crack in his usual composed demeanor. He sat up, his hand running through his hair.

"I don't know," he admitted quietly looking down, voice low. "Maybe I’ve been… too caught up in the mission, in everything else, and I've let things... slip." He turned his head to you looking at you, you made a slight frown expression in confusion and smiling "Or maybe I just thought if I didn’t acknowledge it, it’d go away."

You can't hide the amusement when logan spoke like this for the first time with you you smiled "What are you talking about?" The underlying tension, the glances exchanged, the silence after mission debriefs. He was talking about you — about how his feelings for you had grown, and how he had tried to ignore them, thinking that focusing on the mission was enough.

"Logan, if this is about..." you started, but he shook his head, cutting you off before you could finish.

"No. It’s not about that," he said, his tone firm, but his voice was shaking slightly. "It’s about... everything. I’ve been focused on this shit, on surviving, on doing what I have to do. And maybe that’s why I’ve been avoiding this — avoiding you."

He paused for a moment, looking at you, as though weighing whether or not to say more. You could see him struggling internally, his usual calm demeanor fighting against the storm of emotions he was trying so hard to keep buried.

"I’m not good at this," Logan admitted, a self-deprecating chuckle slipping past his lips. "Talking about...Emotions. It’s not who I am. I never expected to feel anything more than just... duty. But you’ve made that harder than I thought." His words were careful, but there was an undeniable truth to them.

You didn’t say anything at first, letting him continue.

"I’ve tried to ignore it," Logan continued, his voice growing softer now, as if he was finally allowing himself to be vulnerable with you. "Tried to push it down, make it go away. But that’s not how it works, is it?" His gaze locked onto yours again. "I can’t pretend anymore. The way I feel... about you."

The silence hung between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was as if everything had led up to this moment — all the tension, all the looks, all the times he had held back. Now, there were no more barriers.

"I think about you all the time," Logan admitted, his voice steady but quiet. "I can’t focus when you're around because all I can think about is what this is, what we could be. But I’ve been too damn coward to acknowledge it."

His words lingered in the air for a moment, and despite the vulnerability in them, there was still something in Logan's demeanor that remained composed, measured, like he was afraid of the consequences of saying too much.

He exhaled slowly, his chest rising and falling as if he was trying to steady himself. He leaned forward, his eyes dropping for a second, his hand subconsciously reaching for the strap of his rifle, then pulling it back, as if physically trying to distract himself.

"But I don’t want to pretend anymore," Logan said, this time with more conviction. His voice was softer now, more intimate. "I... I want this, I want you. I don’t want to be the guy who just runs from this anymore, thinking it’s just a distraction." He paused again, eyes still on the ground. "I’m not asking for anything. I’m just telling you how I feel."

The sincerity in his words was almost overwhelming, especially given how tightly Logan usually kept his emotions in check. He was calm, always calm — but right now, there was a softness to him that made you realize just how much he’d been holding back.

You didn’t say anything at first. You just watched him, letting the words settle. Your heart was racing. You’d known for a while that the tension between you was real, but hearing him admit it, hearing him say it so plainly… it hit you hard.

Finally, you spoke, your voice quieter now, but filled with emotion. “Logan oh my god...what kept you away from saying this!?.”

Logan didn’t move, didn’t react right away. He just stood there, waiting. The briefest flash of uncertainty passed over his face, but it quickly faded as you stepped forward, closing the space between you.

And in that moment, everything fell away — the tension, the doubts, the barriers Logan had built so high. He didn’t hesitate. His hand found the back of yours, pulling you in, and the kiss was slow, hesitant at first, as if both of you were testing the waters. But soon, it deepened, the weight of the moment settling between you both, the relief of finally letting it happen.

When you pulled away, you both just looked at each other, breathless, knowing that this was the start of something real. Something that, no matter how complicated or dangerous the world around you was, was worth fighting for.

Logan’s voice, now quiet, but full of warmth, broke the silence. “I don’t know what’s ahead... but I know I want to face it with you.”

And for the first time in a long while, Logan allowed himself to feel at peace.

I wonder what the reaction of the boys from COD Ghosts would be if their partner decided to break up with them because s/o no longer wants to maintain a relationship with a man who is rarely home and s/o feels abandoned (plus the boys rarely answer messages)

(*My English is not good, I used Google Translate okay 😔✌️✌️*)

✧ 𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐄: Breaking up with them... ✧ 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌: Call of Duty Ghosts. ✧ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: Logan walker, Hesh walker, Keegan russ, Thomas merrick, kick. ✧ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: x GN!reader . ✧ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: angst, comfort. ✧ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Ansgt, Breaking up, emotional experience. ✧ 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: GIRLIE YOU DONT FALL FOR THEM WORDS🚩🚩.

Logan walker:

He doesn’t fight it at first. He listens—really listens, eyes locked on yours even if everything in him wants to look away.

When you finally speak, your voice low but firm, it hits like a quiet storm: “I waited, Logan. I waited a long damn time. But you don’t come back anymore… not really. And I don’t want to feel like a ghost in my own relationship.”

His face stays still, unreadable, just like always—but his hands? They tremble, just slightly. The only sign that you’ve cracked something open inside him.

And for once, he has no comeback. No defense. Just silence—and the sound of something unspoken breaking quietly between you.

“I never meant to make you feel alone.”

His voice barely rises above a whisper.

Logan is a man who compartmentalizes to survive—he’s good at pushing pain down so it doesn’t leak out at the worst times. But he doesn’t know how to fight for something he already failed to protect.

He nods once. Eyes drop. Says nothing.

And when you leave, he just sits there, still in his gear, on the edge of the bed, staring at the door like he might will you back through it.

Later, Logan would write you a message. Not to beg, not to change your mind—just to say:

“You deserved more than my silence. I’m sorry.”

He stares at your last message for hours, eyes tracing each word like they might rearrange into something softer if he just keeps looking.

If you left a letter, he reads it five times—maybe more. Then folds it with precision, storing it in the same place he keeps old mission reports. Because to him, this? This heartbreak was a mission that failed.

He expected this, in some way. A quiet part of him always knew it was coming—like an inevitable storm on the horizon he refused to brace for.

His healing won’t be fast. He’ll keep doing the job, keep moving, keep being Logan.

But the quiet moments will be the worst—when the world finally slows down, and there’s nothing left but his own silence and that low ache in his chest. Brooding. Regret. And the echo of a love he couldn’t hold onto.

Hesh walker:

Hesh tries to reason with you—softly, gently. He wants to fix it, patch things up, hold onto what’s slipping through his fingers. But in the end… he respects you. He always has.

Hesh wears his heart on his sleeve, unfiltered and warm. So when you finally say it—that it’s not working, that you feel forgotten, that the fire’s gone dim—he goes quiet.

The golden retriever in him aches to make it right. But then he really looks at you—eyes tired, heart heavy.

“Damn…” he mutters, voice rough and low. “I thought I was doin’ right by protectin’ the world… didn’t realize I was losin’ mine.”

He doesn’t beg. Doesn’t try to trap you with promises he knows he can’t keep. Instead, he rubs a hand over his face, exhaling a rough breath, as if trying to clear the weight in his chest.

He looks at you, that flicker of respect in his eyes, even through the hurt.

“You always had that brave heart. Gotta respect that.”

His voice is steady, but there’s a quiet ache behind it. It’s not anger. It’s not regret. It’s just... acceptance.

"David... you are a perfect guy... but I guess these circumstances won't get there with you."

He nodded once, looking down, the weight of your words sinking into him.

You couldn’t help it—you leaned in just a little, hesitant, unsure.

Then, with a sigh, he met your gaze, a quiet frustration in his eyes. “Jesus, Y/N…”

Before you could say anything more, he pulled you in with one arm, a little firmer than you expected, wrapping it around your waist. You felt the warmth of his embrace, and then a soft peck at the top of your head—a gesture filled with unspoken emotion.

When you finally left, you turned to give him one last look. His smile was simple, but there was something in it—something that spoke of understanding, of finality.

It would take him weeks to heal, maybe longer. But there was an undeniable strength in his acceptance. Deep down, he knew you deserved better than the world he could give.

Keegan russ:

Doesn’t believe you at first.

"I can't do this anymore, Keegan. You're never home. I’m starting to forget what it feels like to miss you… because I’ve already accepted you’re not coming back."

When you say it, his response is flat, emotion barely rising in his voice: “You’re serious?”

You nod. You explain. Every word feels heavier than the last, and he doesn’t interrupt. He just watches you, like you’re walking away with something he forgot he could lose.

He doesn’t fight you on it—not verbally, at least. But there’s something in the way he stands, the tightness around his jaw.

And then, just when you think it’s over, he drops one final dagger: “Guess it was never gonna work. Should’ve seen that coming.”

It’s not that he doesn’t care—it’s that he cares too damn much. He’s pissed at himself. Pissed for letting it get to this point, for letting you feel like this with him. He knows he could’ve done better. And that’s what cuts the deepest.

If Keegan is with you, it means he adores you—taking you on dates, sharing quiet moments, doing everything to make you feel valued, loved.

He never thought this day would come.

That’s all he says at first, his voice flat, like he can’t quite process it.

You press him, asking if he has anything to add. He shrugs once, his gaze distant. “Not gonna chain you to someone who doesn’t show up.”

Later that night, when he's alone, he stares at the photo you took of him—your arm around his arm.

He tucks it into his gear, carefully, as if it’s a part of him that he can’t let go of. Even if you’re no longer in his life, that photo stays with him. And for years, it will.

“Hope you find someone who answers his phone more than once a month.”

He mutters it to himself, his voice rough, barely a whisper, like he’s trying to convince himself that it doesn’t hurt.

Yeah, Keegan would heal fast. Probably within a week. He’d push it all aside, bury it deep. He was good at that—at moving on, at leaving the weight of emotions behind.

But if something—anything—reminded him of you? He’d zone out for a moment, eyes distant, mind replaying that time, those moments, like they were never really gone. And just for a second, the weight of it all would hit him again.

Thomas merrick:

When you bring it up to Merrick, you expect resistance—maybe a speech full of excuses, or a list of reasons why he did what he did.

But instead, he just looks at you with tired, almost kind eyes, like he’s already been through it all before.

“I thought I was protecting you. By keeping you out of this life.”

You shake your head, your voice firm but soft: “That’s not the kind of protection I wanted. I didn’t want a soldier—I wanted you. Home. Present.”

Merrick doesn’t argue. He doesn’t try to explain or justify. He simply nods once, the weight of your words settling between you.

“I guess I failed you either way.” His voice is quiet, resigned—like he knew this moment was coming, but never knew how to avoid it.

He nods, his hand outstretched—offering it without hesitation. You take it, feeling the weight of the moment as he speaks, his voice steady but softer than usual.

“If that’s what your heart's tellin’ you, I ain't gonna fight it.”

You look at him, but he doesn’t let you linger on the uncertainty, adding with a quiet conviction, “But don’t you dare think I didn’t love you just 'cause I was gone'.”

That one hits deep, the raw honesty of it stinging more than you expected.

“You ever need anything... you know where I am.”

After you leave, he sits alone, whiskey glass in hand, the dim light casting shadows across his face. He stays upright, calm, like he’s been through this a thousand times—but the glass stays full for hours, untouched. A quiet reminder that some things aren’t as easy to swallow.

He’ll keep commanding, keep his job done straight—no distractions, no slip-ups. His focus sharp as ever.

But like Keegan, if something—anything—reminds him of you, he’ll just let out a quiet sigh, push the thought away, and move on. There’s no time to dwell.

What an old man, he thinks to himself, to experience these teenager feelings. He’s been through too much to let it pull him down.

But there’s one thing he holds onto, and it gives him some peace: He’s proud of the man he became. Proud that he was the one who stood up, who admitted his mistakes, and told you he was wrong. It wasn’t easy, but it was the right thing to do.

Kick:

He jokes at first, trying to brush it off with humor, his usual defense mechanism. But something shifts inside him as the words leave your mouth.

When you say, “I don’t feel like we’re in a relationship anymore,” he raises a brow, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Babe, don’t say that. You're just mad ‘cause I forgot to reply to your message last week.”

But when you don’t laugh—when your eyes are watery but firm, holding a quiet strength that cuts through him—he sobers fast.

He leans in, voice low, almost hesitant, like he’s hoping it’s all just a misunderstanding. “You’re not serious. Right?”

When you don’t back down, when you meet his gaze with nothing but truth, he mutters under his breath, “Damn… you are.” And just like that, he knows it’s real.

He paces, his boots hitting the floor with heavy steps. He rubs his hands over his face, trying to steady himself, to think of something—anything—that could fix this. He tries to make you laugh, throwing out half-hearted jokes in an effort to ease the tension.

But when he realizes nothing he says is going to change the way you feel—when the weight of it all finally hits—he stops.

“So, what? I don’t get to be in your corner anymore? Just like that?” His voice cracks slightly, a mix of frustration and disbelief.

He watches you, waiting for any sign that this is just a bad dream, but when he finally sees that you truly mean it, his heart sinks.

After a long silence, you break it, your voice sharp but tired: “Kick, say something. You’re just keep looking.”

He exhales, the heaviness in his chest settling. “You ain’t wrong. Can’t lie and say I’ve been much of a boyfriend. Ain’t had the time to be.”

He runs a hand through his hair, his gaze softening as he looks at you, quieter now. “Never wanted you to feel second place, darlin’. That’s on me.”

There’s nothing left to say. No excuses. Just the truth. And it’s a bitter one.

As you leave, the final hug between you both feels heavier than anything that came before. The silence stretches, but even then, he can’t stop himself from saying something, his voice softer than usual—almost like a whisper of regret.

“You deserve someone who can make a home, not just stories.”

He’s accepted it now. At first, he thought you just didn’t understand the weight of his job—the danger, the uncertainty. But now, sitting in the quiet aftermath, he realizes the truth: No partner would willingly live with someone who disappears for over a month at a time.

After you’re gone, he falls into his own kind of silence. Alone. Depressed. It’s the kind of loneliness he’s used to, but now, it feels emptier.

He never talks or gushes about you like what he used to do before.

He deletes your contact from his phone. It’s the logical step, the clean break, or so he tells himself.

But your photos? They stay. He can’t bring himself to delete them all, not yet. He looks at them sometimes, the ones where you’re laughing, the ones where you’re close, just before everything changed.

And in the silence, he lets the memories linger.

Can I just say, that your work is literally so canon. Like you write the characters so realistically and so IN character. It’s downright beautiful, as far as I’m concerned your word is law 💕

May I request, how the Ghost team would react to confessing their love to teammate!reader while completely blackout drunk??

Like, they’ve fallen madly in love with reader, like I’m talking soulmate-once-in-a-lifetime-love things. But they’ve never acted upon it, always trying to repress their feelings for reader

But after a long mission, they all go to a bar, get drunk, and climb onto a table, stage, roof, anything, and just scream out their undying love reader. Or they get injured and the morphine makes them confess their love for reader. Either way, they wake up the next day, hungover af, and find out what they did by a teammate showing them a video of what they did

How will they react? How will they act while love-struck but in denial?? What will they do after seeing the video???

(If it’s too complicated or too much for you, then feel free to ignore this, have a nice day 😚❤️)

OMG ANON THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THESE KIND WORDS!!! THEY MEANT A LOT TO ME!!!

Anon this is so cheesy for me Idk why haha but still whatever this fandom want🙏🏻🤎.

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶

Drunk (overreacted) confessions from them

characters: Logan walker, Hesh walker, Keegan p. russ, Kick.

X fem! Reader!

Notes: mention of alcohol!

Logan walker:

Logan isn’t usually a drinker, but after a long mission, he lets himself indulge. Unfortunately, tonight? Yeah, he overdid it.

At first, he’s just sitting quietly at the bar, drink in hand, looking at you like he always does—like you put the stars in the damn sky.

But then, something in his brain snaps. And before anyone can stop him, Logan climbs onto the bar counter, his movements surprisingly smooth despite the alcohol.

You groan, already bracing for whatever drunken nonsense is about to come out of his mouth. Logan isn’t a loud guy. He’s the quiet, brooding type—the one who watches from the shadows, sharp-eyed and calculating. But tonight? Thanks to way too much whiskey, he’s a whole different person.

The entire bar goes quiet as heads turn toward him. The team looks half-amused, half-horrified. Keegan mutters something under his breath, Hesh already has his face in his hands, and Kick? Kick’s just smirking slightly with kind of shocked expression, waiting to see how bad this gets.

You, however, are just trying to decide if you should drag him down now or let him embarrass himself first.

Logan sways slightly but holds his ground, looking down at you like you’re the only thing in the entire room that matters. His glass wobbles in his grip as he points right at you, eyes unfocused but filled with a ridiculous amount of passion.

“This—THIS RIGHT HERE,” he announces, voice thick with emotion, “is the most incredible, badass, beautiful human being I have EVER seen.”

Oh god.

You cover your face with your hands as laughter and whistles erupt from the bar. Someone claps. Someone else calls out, "Damn right!" and Logan, absolutely thriving off the attention, continues.

“You don’t even understand how lucky I am,” he slurs, placing a dramatic hand over his chest. “This woman—this goddess—she puts up with my brooding ass every single day. And she STILL looks at me like I’m worth a damn.” He pauses for a second, brows furrowing like he just had the deepest thought of his life. Then, suddenly, he grins. “That’s LOVE, people.”

You peek through your fingers, only to find him staring directly at you again, swaying slightly but still standing tall. Then, in the most theatrical, overly dramatic display possible

“AND I WOULD DIE FOR HER.”

The bar erupts.

Kick is howling with laughter, Keegan actually smirks, and Hesh is trying—and failing—To not acknowledge this is his brother standing. Someone in the back yells, “Kiss ‘her already!” and Logan, still very much riding the high of his drunk declaration

----------------------------------------

The morning after was hell.

Logan woke up with his head pounding, an insistent throb that seemed to match the rhythm of his heartbeat. He groaned, eyes squinting against the harsh light streaming through the window, as if the entire universe was conspiring to make him feel worse. His mouth tasted like ash, and his stomach churned in protest.

He shifted, slowly peeling himself off the bed, when he heard a familiar voice.

"Morning, lo," you said, holding up your phone in front of his face.

Logan’s eyes widened slightly, blinking away the remnants of sleep. And then, he saw it: the video.

No.

He immediately knew what it was. The alcohol-induced confession from last night. The one that had him spilling his heart out in front of the entire bar.

"Fuck, no..." he mumbled, his body going rigid as he pulled the blanket over his face, sinking into the pillows, trying to block out whatever embarrassment was coming his way. He wasn’t sure which was worse: the hangover or the thought of reliving his drunken declaration.

But you weren’t having it. You sat on the edge of the bed, a mischievous smile playing on your lips, as you pressed "Play" on the video.

Logan’s groan was audible as the playback began.

The video started with him standing on the bar, arms outstretched like some drunken Shakespearean actor, whiskey sloshing in his glass. You could hear the crowd cheering, the clinking of glasses, and then Logan’s voice—loud, completely unfiltered.

“THIS—THIS RIGHT HERE is the most incredible, badass, beautiful human being I have EVER seen."

Logan’s eyes widened as the words hit him like a freight train. His face instantly buried deeper into his hands, and he let out a long, suffering groan.

The video continued, his drunken confession echoing in the room. “I WOULD DIE FOR HER.”

By now, Logan had curled into a ball, attempting to disappear completely under the blanket, but you were relentless, laughing softly.

“You might want to see the best part, Logan. You know, the part where you said you’d die for me?”

Logan’s muffled voice came out from under the covers, full of defeat. “Fucking… why you doing this. I never should’ve had that last drink.”

You kept the phone at a safe distance, just long enough for him to hear the entire confession.

When it ended, you put the phone down on the bedside table, the silence in the room hanging thick and heavy. Logan didn’t move. He didn’t speak.

You watched him for a moment before leaning over, placing a hand gently on his strong shoulder. "Logan..."

He finally emerged from under the blanket, face red and eyes wide with embarrassment. "I can’t believe I—" He cut himself off, looking like he wanted to sink into the bed and never come out again. “God, please tell me no one recorded that."

You gave him a playful look. "Oh, don’t worry. It was just the whole bar... and maybe a couple of the regulars."

Logan groaned again, his face buried back into the pillow, but this time, a small, sheepish smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "This is it. I’m done. I’m staying in this room until everyone forgets about last night."

You chuckled, rubbing his strong back. “Well, you did say you loved me. It was a pretty sweet confession, even if you were drunk.”

Logan let out a breath, sounding both defeated and affectionate at once. "Yeah, but not like that..." He peeked up at you, his eyes softer than before. “I meant it, though. Every damn word.”

You smiled down at him, a little teasing, but your heart warmed. "I know you did, Logan. I know you did."

And in that moment, even with the hangover, the embarrassment, and the ridiculous video, everything else faded into the background. Because despite his blunders, despite everything, Logan’s feelings were real. And maybe, just maybe, that made the whole thing worth it.

Hesh walker:

Hesh is a messy drunk. He gets cocky at first, then way too sentimental.

So after a few rounds of tequila shots, He was looking at you now smiling softly when you holding a cup give a confused look with a smile, he looked cute in your opinion.

He struggled so bad with his words due to his drunk statement.

And when you couldn't understand him telling him "Careful, david. that sounds like a confession"

He groaned annoyed at you then he sat in front of you on the counter bar shocked you when he hold your face for a seconds to look at him and FOCUS ON HIM.

He stared at you with a mix of admiration and... something else. You felt his gaze before you saw it, the intensity of it like a spotlight on you.

And then, without any warning, Hesh slammed his drink down on the bar and pointed a finger at you.

"Y/N! I—I LOVED YOU SINCE FOREVER AGO. YOU’RE SO PRETTY AND FUNNY AND YOU KICK ASS AND I WANNA KISS YOU SO BAD."

You blinked, trying to process what was happening. Your heart skipped a beat, your mind going blank for a moment. The entire bar went silent for a split second, all eyes turning toward him. You could practically hear the crickets.

"David are you fucking for real right now?"

Logan, of course, wasn’t fazed in the slightest. He simply took a slow sip from his own drink, his eyes lazily flicking over to you with an unreadable expression. and yeah he succeeded in making himself a stranger just like the other fellas at the bar.

"…Dude," Logan muttered under his breath, not even bothering to give Hesh a side-eye.

But you? You were staring at Hesh, wide-eyed, completely stunned by his sudden confession. You didn’t know how to respond—what do you even say to that? Was this some kind of drunken ramble? Or was he being serious?

Hesh, however, wasn’t done. He leaned forward on the bar, ignoring the stares of the others in the room, fully committed to whatever the hell he was saying.

"I don’t care if anyone’s listenin’! I just—" He gestured wildly, a bit too animated for someone who had been drinking, "I just need you to know. You make everything better. You’re—everything. And I just wanna kiss you, Y/N, I—FUCK IT!"

You were completely overwhelmed, your face turning beet red. You felt so shy, suddenly unable to look him in the eye as his words washed over you. You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. Your heart was racing, and the only thing you could manage to do was give a nervous, sheepish smile.

“Yeah, david... I’m just gonna go,” you muttered, suddenly feeling very much out of your element. You didn’t even wait for a response before turning to leave the bar, your mind spinning in circles.

But as you started to walk away, you heard Hesh’s voice from behind you, almost like a whine.

“What? Where’re you goin’?! Come on, don’t leave me hangin' like that!”

You quickened your pace, trying to hide the blush on your face, but you couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled up. There was something so undeniably Hesh about the way he threw himself into everything, no shame, no hesitation.

Logan didn’t even glance your way as you left. He was too busy finishing his drink, probably already onto the next thing in his head. But as you made your way out of the bar, you couldn’t help but think about what Hesh said.

It was loud, it was unexpected, but in a weird way, it was also kinda sweet.

And for now, that’s enough.

---------------------------------------

The sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting a hazy glow over the room. Hesh lay there, still tangled in the sheets, groaning softly as his hand rubbed his temple. His head throbbed—he knew exactly what had happened last night. The alcohol, the words he couldn’t take back, the confession that had spilled out of him like an unstoppable flood.

“Why do I feel like I made an ass of myself last night?” he muttered, staring out the window as if the morning sun could offer him some sort of redemption.

You, standing at the door, couldn’t help but smirk. You'd been waiting for this moment, the moment Hesh would finally confront his drunken rambling. "You did, David. You really did," you said, your voice light but with just enough teasing to make him stiffen.

He turned around, wide-eyed, like he’d just seen a ghost. “Oh, nah…” he mumbled, running his hand over his face as if the words he’d spoken the night before were some sort of fever dream.

But it was too late. You pulled up the video on your phone and hit Play.

Immediately, his own voice echoed through the room, the confession he had made without a second thought. “I LOVE YOU SINCE FOREVER AGO. YOU’RE SO PRETTY AND FUNNY AND YOU KICK ASS AND I WANNA KISS YOU SO BAD.”

Hesh’s face turned redder than a tomato, and he buried his face in hands, his eyes closed as if he could somehow will the video—and the whole embarrassing memory—out of existence. But it kept playing, louder and louder.

When it ended, you could see the sheer defeat on his face. He was completely silent for a long moment. And then, with an exhale that was equal parts frustrated and resigned, he turned toward you, clearly ready to face the consequences.

"So that’s not me," he said flatly, as if to make some sort of last-ditch attempt at saving face.

You raised an eyebrow, trying hard to keep the amusement from spilling over. You could tell he was desperately hoping you’d let him off the hook, maybe pretend it never happened. But you just shook your head slowly, the smile still playing on your lips.

“No, David,” you said, trying to hold back a chuckle. “That was definitely you.”

You let the silence stretch for a moment, the weight of his embarrassment hanging between you two. His eyes were searching you, desperate for some reassurance, the fear of rejection clear in the way his posture softened. He was terrified that you'd hate him for the drunken mess he'd made of himself. But you weren’t going to make this easy on him.

"So..." you leaned in slightly, voice a little teasing. "When are you gonna kiss me?"

And just like that, the air shifted. Hesh’s entire system seemed to freeze. His eyes widened, his mouth slightly parted in confusion, like the real shock had just hit him. The cogs in his brain struggled to work as he stared at you, caught completely off guard.

Hesh.exe has stopped working.

You couldn’t help it. You chuckled at the look on his face. His hands flew up to his hair, messing it up even more, trying to formulate a response, but no words came out. His usual smooth, confident self was nowhere to be found. He was just a big, lovable mess of flustered nerves.

“Y/N stop it for real...” he stammered, trying to find something to say, his voice cracking under the pressure.

You raised your eyebrows, enjoying this moment just a little too much. “I mean… you did say you wanted to kiss me. Pretty badly, actually.”

Hesh groaned, dropping his body back into the couch, completely defeated. "I’m never drinking again."

You laughed again, shaking your head. "We both know that’s a lie, David."

But you didn’t let the moment linger in the awkward tension. Slowly, you walked over to his side of the couch, bending down to meet his gaze. "You’re lucky I think it’s cute, you know?"

He looked up at you, a small, sheepish smile finally tugging at his lips. “Yeah, I know. sorry for the embarrassment i brought to ya."

“You’re lucky I’m not going to hold it against you. But seriously… when’s that kiss coming?” [chat sorry i asked a lot but eh yknow its hesh]

Hesh’s smile grew, more confident now that the storm had passed. “You’re gonna make me work for it, aren’t you?”

You grinned, shaking your head. “You kinda deserve to.”

Keegan p. russ:

Keegan doesn’t get wasted often.

But when he does? It’s bad.

Tonight is one of those nights.

And instead of yelling his confession like the others, he just—stares at you. Like, straight-up, glassy-eyed, utterly in love staring.

Merrick nudged him with his elbow. “You good, Keegan?”

Keegan didn’t even bother to look at him. Instead, he just sighed, resting his elbow on the table holding his drink, his eyes staring at the table like he was lost in thought.

“No,” he muttered, voice low, like the weight of the world was pressing on him. “Fuck it, I’m not.”

You raised an eyebrow, hearing the frustration in his tone. It wasn’t like Keegan to let anything show, especially not in front of the team. “Why’s that?” you asked, curiosity getting the best of you.

Keegan barely spared you a glance. He waved a hand lazily in your direction, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “’Cause of you.”

You blinked, totally thrown off by the sudden and completely unexpected response. “Me?”

He nodded, his expression serious, almost unsettlingly so. It was like a switch had flipped, and the usual cool, collected Keegan had become something… different. “Mhm. You’re so goddamn perfect, it pisses me off.”

Your heart skipped a beat. What was happening? Keegan—cold, aloof Keegan—was looking at you with a kind of intensity that made you feel small, vulnerable. His gaze didn’t soften, didn’t break. It was like he was studying you, trying to figure you out in a way that made your stomach twist.

You couldn’t quite process the words he was saying. It was like a bomb had just dropped, and now everything was in slow motion. His tone was so calm, so detached, but his eyes—God, his eyes—were burning with something you couldn’t name.

And it scared you.

“…What?” You said it more to yourself than to him, your voice faltering slightly. You were completely thrown off. Keegan never acted like this. He was the cool, stoic guy in the corner, the one who didn’t let anything shake him. But right now, the way he was looking at you—confessing like this, with that cold, sharp edge—was unnerving. And yet, strangely… alluring.

He didn’t respond right away, just kept his gaze locked on you like he was daring you to understand, to process the weight of his words. His lips barely twitched at the corners, the faintest trace of a smirk threatening to break through.

The room felt smaller suddenly. Merrick’s voice was muffled, the noise of the team faded away as your focus stayed completely on Keegan. You were frozen in place, unsure how to react, unsure of how to deal with this new side of him.

He didn’t give you much of a chance to recover, though. His coldness was like a wall, but the words he spoke were undeniable, carrying the truth of them in a way that made your chest tighten.

And in that moment, you realized—Keegan wasn’t just being cold. He was being honest. And it wasn’t something you were ready for. Not from him. Not like this.

---------------------------------------

The morning light filtered through the blinds, casting a dull glow on Keegan's room. His head felt heavy, the weight of last night's events still pressing on his chest. He could barely remember what exactly had happened, but the fragments that were coming back to him were enough to make him cringe. Every word, every look, every confession—it was all there. And it was all his fault.

Keegan groaned, running a hand through his messy black hair. His blue eyes, usually sharp and calculated, were tired and heavy from the lack of sleep and the frustration that lingered from his own actions. He could still hear the echo of his words, the way he’d made that stupid confession to you, the way you had looked at him like you’d never seen him before. He hated it.

As if the universe decided to torture him just a bit more, there was a knock at his door. Keegan froze, hoping against hope that it was one of the guys. Anyone but you.

"Fucking hell," he muttered under his breath, not even bothering to mask his irritation. He stood up, rubbed his eyes, and reluctantly made his way to the door. He wasn’t ready to face you—not after what he’d said.

He opened the door, his tired, lazy blue eyes locking onto you. He sighed, turning his head away slightly, hoping you didn’t notice the tension in his face.

"Shit," he muttered again, though this time it was more to himself. "Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be somewhere else?"

You raised an eyebrow, unfazed by his coldness. Of course, he wasn’t exactly thrilled to see you. Not after what happened. But you weren’t going to let him brush it off that easily.

You crossed your arms, standing your ground. "You know we need to talk, right?"

Keegan sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair again, looking frustrated. "Not now. We’ll talk later, alright?"

But you weren't having any of it. You knew Keegan's cold, distant attitude. He always pushed things off, avoided confrontation. But you weren’t going to let him get away with it this time. You weren’t going to let him just pretend it never happened.

"No, Keegan," you said firmly, your voice softer but still determined. "You will talk about it now. We-oh sorry no, You need to settle this."

Keegan let out a long, exasperated breath, his shoulders slumping as he stepped back, motioning for you to come inside. The look in his eyes was a mixture of frustration and exhaustion. He didn’t want to admit it. Hell, he didn’t even want to face it. But the more he tried to push it away, the more the weight of his actions pressed on him.

"You don't get it," he muttered quietly, his voice losing the sharp edge it usually carried. "I don’t do this..." He shook his head, clearly frustrated with himself. "I don't say things like that."

You stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind you. Keegan didn’t even look at you, his gaze focused on the floor. His walls were coming down, slowly but surely, and he hated it. He hated how vulnerable he was feeling, how human he felt in this moment. It was rare for him to let anyone see this side of him—the side that didn’t have everything under control.

"You didn’t mean it, right?" you said softly, almost as if you were trying to reassure him. But there was a challenge in your voice. "Or did you?"

Keegan’s eyes lifted to you hands on his hips muscle, and for a moment, you saw something in them—a softness, something he didn’t usually show. He didn’t say anything for a long moment. The silence stretched, but then, quietly, he admitted, "I meant it."

It was barely a whisper, but it was enough.

The confession, the vulnerability—he couldn’t hide it anymore.

You stepped closer, your gaze steady but warm. "Keegan..." you said, soft but full of understanding. "You don’t have to be scared of saying it."

His eyes flickered to yours, and for a moment, you saw the wall he’d built around himself crack just a little. The harsh, cold Keegan you knew was still there, but this was him—really him. And in that quiet moment, he finally softened with a scoff, just enough for you to see it.

“Fuck it, I’m not scared,” he replied scoffing at you, his voice rough, but there was a hint of something different in it now. Something real.

And that was all you needed to hear.

You reached out, placing a hand on his chest, him breathing out looking at your hand. "Good. never thought you would get the balls to admit it russ"

He didn’t say anything in response, but the weight that had been pressing on him seemed to ease. The tension in his shoulders relaxed. He may have been a man of few words, but in that moment, the silence between you both spoke louder than anything else.

And for the first time, Keegan didn’t mind it.

Kick:

Kick holds his liquor well. Or at least, he thinks he does.

And he did too much when he gave in.

He is a honest person when he is soer just imagine him when he is drunk.

You were sitting hearing the chit chats, getting in with them.

When you felt someone pulled a chair next to you, it was kick.

You smiled kindly to him then returning back to the conversation turning your head.

He leaned in slightly, his voice low but steady. “I got a secret, Y/N.” He took a long sip of his drink, the way he swallowed hard indicating he was probably trying to brace himself for whatever was coming.

You turning your attention to him smiling, raising an eyebrow. “Oh? What’s that?”

Kick tapped your shoulder with every word he spoke, his gaze locked on yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “I. Am. In. Love. With. You.”

Your breath caught in your throat. For a second, everything around you seemed to freeze. The bar noise faded into the background, and all you could focus on was Kick. His smile was lazy, like he was saying something casual, but there was something in his eyes that told you this was anything but.

"Like, really in love," he continued, his voice almost playful but with an edge of sincerity that made your chest tighten. "Like, wanna spend the rest of my life with you kinda love. Ain’t that crazy?"

The entire team, unbeknownst to him, was watching from the sidelines, eyes flicking between you and him. You could feel the weight of their gaze, but it was nothing compared to the storm brewing in your chest. Your mind was racing, trying to process what Kick had just said. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol, the sudden intensity of his words, or the fact that you weren’t expecting any of it—but there you were, completely stunned.

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out at first. All you could do was stare at him, your mind blank.

Then, after a beat, you finally managed to find your voice, though it was quieter than usual. “Let me think about it,” you said, your tone more measured, but there was a hint of playfulness in it too.

Without giving him another chance to respond, you stood up and walked away, heading for the exit of the bar. You could feel his eyes on you the entire time, the weight of his confession still lingering in the air.

You left him there, grinning like an idiot god he was so proud of you playing with feelings like thus, but also... kind of hoping he'd do exactly what he always did: chase you.

And for once, you didn't mind that he would.

-------------------------------------------

The morning light filtered in through the blinds, casting a soft glow over the room. Kick was sprawled on the couch, his head pounding, the aftermath of a night he could barely remember. His eyes slowly fluttered open, the familiar weight of a hangover making everything feel ten times worse.

He groaned and turned his head, trying to adjust to the light, only to find you sitting across the room, looking way too awake for someone who’d been drinking with him the night before. You smiled playfully, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. "How things, kick."

He blinked at you, confused for a second. His brain was still foggy from the alcohol, trying to piece together what had happened last night. The words he’d spoken to you—those declarations, the confession—felt like distant echoes in his mind. But as you reached for your phone, the reality of the situation hit him like a ton of bricks.

You pressed play. to the voice recorder file you have saved.

A sharp, rough voice—the unmistakable tone of Kick—filtered through the speakers. "I. Am. In. Love. With. You." It was followed by the sound of his words growing more passionate, more real, more raw. "Like, really in love. Like, wanna spend the rest of my life with you kinda love."

Kick froze. His face drained of color as the realization of his drunken confession sunk in. Oh shit. He had said all that. And now, you were playing it back to him like it was nothing.

There was a heavy silence between you both as his head throbbed, and all he could do was stare at you. His mind raced, heart pounding with a mix of embarrassment and anxiety.

Finally, he sighed, rubbing his forehead with his hand. "Shit, Y/N. Sorry I made the first confession this ridiculous," he muttered, looking down at the floor as if it could swallow him up. He had always prided himself on being cool, collected, but now, faced with the fallout of his own words, that image was completely shattered.

You didn’t respond immediately, letting him stew in his own regret for a moment. The silence stretched, thick and uncomfortable, until you finally spoke up.

"I don’t mind it at all..." you said, offering a gentle, reassuring smile. "It wasn’t that bad."

Kick looked up at you, disbelief in his eyes. Was that your reaction? He’d expected you to laugh or make some snide comment. But instead, you were... calm. Maybe even understanding. And it made him feel a little less like a fool.

He leaned back, trying to steady his breathing. "I don’t want to make a joke out of this, Y/N," he said, his voice quieter now, but there was a level of sincerity in it that was rare for Kick. "I respect you too much for that."

There was a moment where his amber eyes softened, his usual cocky demeanor slipping away. His shoulders sagged, as if he was finally letting his guard down. "Look... I said all that last night, and I meant it. But maybe I said it wrong... or, I dunno, too loudly. But it was the truth."

You could see it—the shift. Kick wasn’t just the guy who liked to joke around, to keep things light. In that moment, he was real with you. And you could tell he was waiting, hoping for an answer, no matter how scared he was of what it might be.

You watched him carefully, your mind processing his words. You could feel the weight of the confession, his vulnerability. He wasn’t just trying to win you over with jokes anymore. He was being honest, and he was asking for something that took guts.

And just like that, you knew how you felt. You weren’t about to make him wait any longer. You smiled softly, a look of understanding and affection in your eyes.

"I think you were just too drunk to say it any other way," you said, your voice light but genuine, teasing just enough to break the tension.

Kick blinked at you, clearly relieved that you weren’t going to make this awkward for him. He let out a small, amused laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, maybe. But now that I’m sober... I meant every damn word."

There was no more joking, no more avoiding the truth. This time, you could see the real Kick, the one who wasn’t afraid to admit when he felt something. And it was all out in the open now. You didn’t need him to say anything else. You knew the answer to his question.

"I think..." you paused, eyes meeting his. "I think you’re not as bad as you make yourself out to be."

He laughed again, this time with a little more warmth. "Well, guess that’s something, huh?"

And in that moment, Kick felt like maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

Relationship Alphabet series with Cod ghosts!

Kick

✧ Pairing: Romantic.

✧ Genre: Fluff.

X GN READER

Hesh is a natural leader—strong, confident, and brave. But beneath that, he has a good heart and a gentle soul. He loves deeply, respects his partner, and would go to the ends of the earth to protect them. He’s the kind of man who makes you feel safe, loved, and cherished.

✧ Warnings: Light NSFW, and mention of NSFW content MDNI.

A – Affection

SFW: Kick isn’t overly affectionate in public, He got the courage to show his love for you in front of people and has no care, but in private? He’s got this effortless way of showing love without making a big deal out of it. A casual arm over your shoulders, a hand on the small around your waist walking through a crowd, or passing you a drink before you even ask. He’s the kind of guy who’ll sit next to you after a long day and just chatting, his presence alone making things feel lighter.

Light NSFW: He has a habit of pulling you close by the belt loops or wrapping an arm around your waist, fingers tracing absentminded circles against your skin. And when no one’s around? His lips find that spot right below your jaw, his voice low and teasing.

“Damn, you really just stand there looking this good all day, huh?”

B – Boundaries

SFW: Kick respects space and expects the same in return. He doesn’t pry, doesn’t push—he trusts you’ll come to him when you’re ready. That being said, he’s got an unspoken boundary about his past. He’ll tell you things on his own time, but he won’t be forced into it, since kick is an information technology specialist and wanted, he trained himself most importantly to be cautious.

Light NSFW: He’s down for a little teasing, but there’s a time and place. You try anything in the middle of his tech working? He’s shutting that down real quick. “Focusing, sweetheart. Save it for later.”

C – Communication

SFW: Kick is direct but reserved. If something’s wrong, he’ll tell you—but in few words, He’s a listener first, always taking in more than he says. If he’s upset, he needs time to process before talking, but when he does, it’s straight to the point. he expects the same. He’s a problem-solver, so if there’s an issue, he wants to fix it, not dance around it, Never talks about his work with you, work stays in work section, cause he don't want to mess with your head with the fucked up things he saw.

Light NSFW: He has this low, slow drawl when he talks in that tone. He doesn’t just say things; he makes sure you feel them, He is a talker, a mid one. Likes to ask you, or praising. and these words came a lot from his lips.

“Goddamit yes, You keep look at me like that!”

D – Devotion

SFW: Ride or die. If Kick is with you, he’s with you. He won’t say things like “I’d do anything for you”—he just does it. You’re his priority, simple as that. The way he looks out for you—making sure you eat, remembering little things like how you take your coffee/tea—it’s all quiet but unmistakable devotion.

I always thought because kick is a technology specialist, he is wanted especially when his pic was on the kill list, he never thought about having a partner but here he is with you, and he would kill a fed soldier if it means staying with you.

Light NSFW: He’s a patient man, but there are moments he just wants. When that switch flips, his devotion turns into something intense, lips against your ear, hands gripping just tight enough.

“You are my love. You know that, right?”

E – Empathy

SFW: Kick isn’t the kind of guy to sugarcoat things, but he’s good at reading you. He picks up on the small things—the shift in your voice, the way your shoulders tense. He won’t ask if you’re okay in front of others, but later? When it’s just the two of you? He’ll casually sit beside you, suddenly kneeling in front of you while you are sitting on the couch holding one of your knee. “Talk to me.” And not in a pleading or softy way.

Light NSFW: He knows what you like, and he will gladly listen to what you want, knows when to take his time and when to push. He listens—to words, to the way you react. It’s all about you, and he makes sure you know it.

F – Forgiveness

SFW: He doesn’t hold grudges, but he doesn’t forget either. If you mess up, own it. Apologize, and he’ll move forward, no problem. But betray his trust? That’s not something easily fixed, especially if it's after a long time of dating he didn't expect it from you so he will have two choices, leave everything behind and move on with you, or leave you with everything behind him.

Light NSFW: He doesn’t do “angry” intimacy. If he’s pissed, he walks it off before even thinking about touching you. But the reconciliation after a fight? Slow, deliberate, leaving no room for doubt that everything’s okay again.

G – Growth

SFW: Kick isn’t someone who rushes things. He understands that relationships evolve, that people change, and he’s good with that. He sees growth as something you do together, not just individually. If you’re trying to be better, he supports it. If he needs to work on something, he will—without needing to be told twice.

Light NSFW: Growth in intimacy means learning what works and what doesn’t, figuring out the unspoken rhythms between you. He’s patient, always watching for what you respond to, never making it feel rushed or forced.

H – Honesty

SFW: Kick doesn’t sugarcoat anything. If you ask for his opinion, expect the truth. Not in a harsh way, but in a direct way. If you’re upset about something and he doesn’t understand why? He’ll ask. If he screws up? He owns it.

Light NSFW: There’s no faking with Kick. He’s attuned to you, knows when you’re holding back or if something’s off. “Don’t do that. Don’t act like you’ don't know what you want.” He wants the truth, even when it’s just the two of you tangled up in sheets, breathing against each other’s skin.

I – Intimacy

SFW: Kick isn’t big on grand gestures, but his intimacy shows in small, constant ways—his hand resting on your back absentmindedly, leaning against you when he’s tired he likes it even more when he rests his head on your lap, he feels peaceful, especially that feeling when he knows he is comfortable finally with someone, pulling you into his side on the couch. It’s comfort. Security. He’s not loud about it, but you feel it.

Light NSFW: When it’s just the two of you, his usual calm takes on an edge of intensity. He doesn’t rush, doesn’t get sloppy. He watches you, listens, and takes his time learning.

“Relax. Let me take care of you.” His voice is low, all confidence, all promise.

J – Joy

SFW: His humor is dry, always the one who makes you laugh but when he laughs? Really laughs? It’s rare and warm, and it lingers. His joy isn’t big or loud—it’s in the quiet moments, in teasing you under his breath, in the way his eyes soften when you’re happy. He likes making you laugh. That’s his favorite sound.

Light NSFW: There’s a playful side to him in private, smirking against your skin, teasing just enough to make you squirm and this his joy, especually if you are a tough partner and thinks he got this power to lead you like this state.

“That’s cute. Keep making that.”

K – Kindness

SFW: Kick’s kindness isn’t in words—it’s in actions. It’s carrying your stuff when he knows you’re exhausted. It’s passing you a water bottle before you realize you need it. It’s making sure you get the last bite of something good. He doesn’t announce his kindness; he just does it.

Light NSFW: He’s attentive, making sure you’re comfortable, that you’re getting as much as you’re giving. It’s never just about him—it’s you, always both of you.

L – Love

SFW: Kick’s love isn’t flashy. It’s consistent. It’s steady hands and a quiet “I got you.” It’s trust, built over time. He might not say I love you every second, but when he does? He means it.

Light NSFW: When he really loves you, it shows in how he touches you—every movement slow, intentional, lingering. It’s in the way he whispers against your neck, the way his breath hitches slightly when you say his name. “You’re everything to me, you know that?”

M – Memories

SFW: He holds onto things—small details, fleeting moments. The first time he made you laugh so hard you couldn’t breathe, the exact way you look when you’re happy. He remembers. And sometimes, late at time, when it’s quiet, he’ll tell you.

Light NSFW: His memories are the time when he remembers the most new intimate experiences you guys had, he just likes the way he made you felt, the way when you have the full guts to tell him what you like and what you wanna do.

N – Nurturing

SFW: Kick doesn’t come across as the nurturing type, but he is—just in his own way. If you’re exhausted, he won’t say, “You need to rest.” Instead, he’ll shut down whatever’s keeping you up and quietly make sure you have what you need. He’s not a fan of coddling, but he’ll take care of you in the most practical, effective way possible.

If you’re sick? He’s grumbling while making sure you drink enough water, tossing a blanket over you without a word.

If you’re injured or hurt? He’s shaking his head but cleaning the wound himself, precise and careful.

If you’re having a bad day? He won’t push. Just silently hands you your favorite whatever thing and sits with you until you feel better.

Light NSFW: He’s all about taking care of you. He’s observant, knows when you need something without you having to say it. He doesn’t make a big deal out of it, but you can tell by the way his hands are so careful with you. “Relax. Let me handle it.”

O – Openness

SFW: Kick’s not one to easily open up. He keeps things locked up tight, prefers actions over words. But when he trusts you? When he really lets you in? It’s rare, but it’s everything.

He’s not a fan of long talks about feelings, but he’ll give you small truths in quiet moments.

Maybe it’s “I don’t talk about this shit with anyone else.” said in a rare moment of honesty.

Maybe it’s the way he leans into you when he’s had a long day, his body language saying everything he won’t.

Light NSFW: His openness in intimacy comes slowly, in layers. At first, he keeps things more physical, but as his walls come down, you start to see how much he really feels. The way his breath stutters when you touch him a certain way. The way he lingers afterward, tracing patterns into your skin, the only openness he got when he let you do whatever he wants.

P – Patience

SFW: Kick is absurdly patient. He’s a sniper—waiting is what he does. He won’t rush you, won’t push you into anything before you’re ready. His patience shows in how he listens, how he lets you come to him rather than demanding answers.

If you’re struggling to say something? He won’t press, just sits there quietly, waiting.

If you’re upset? He won’t tell you to calm down—he’ll just be there, solid and steady.

If you’re learning something new? He’ll go over it as many times as you need without making you feel stupid.

Light NSFW: He takes his time. He enjoys drawing things out, watching your reactions, figuring out exactly what gets to you. He doesn’t rush—he savors. “No need to rush, love.”

Q – Quality Time

SFW: Kick is so big on flashy dates or extravagant plans. His idea of quality time is just being with you and sparkle these times with sweet places. He’s always talkative, he likes having you there. Whether it’s sitting in comfortable any place, working out together, or just driving somewhere with the windows down and the radio low—it counts.

He’ll remember what you like, will adjust to your preferences without thinking.

If you need excitement? He’ll take you somewhere fun, something active.

If you need peace? He’s all for long walks at night, quiet conversations under night sky.

His favorite? Lying in bed late at night, just existing together, no pressure to talk or do anything.

R – Respect

SFW: Kick doesn’t throw respect around lightly—you earn it. That’s why, when he’s with you, it means something. He won’t undermine you, won’t treat you like you can’t handle yourself.

He values competence, effort, and genuine strength—and he respects you because of who you are, not just because you’re his partner.

If someone talks down to you or disrespected? He doesn’t have to say much—already tracking their location and threaten them to shut down all of them devices, and not even try to think about it again.

He listens when you talk, actually takes in what you’re saying. If you have different opinions? He won’t dismiss them—he’ll challenge them, push you to think, but he won’t ever invalidate you.

He respects your independence but won’t hesitate to step in if you need him.

S – Support

SFW: Kick isn’t the type to coddle or sugarcoat things, but he will have your back no matter what. His way of supporting you isn’t about words—it’s actions.

If you’re struggling? He won’t say “It’ll be okay.” He’ll say, “What do you want to do next?” that question means don't you dare hold back

If you fail? He won’t pity you. He’ll help you figure out what went wrong and how to fix it.

If you’re exhausted? He won’t tell you to rest—he’ll make sure you do, taking care of whatever’s weighing on you.

He’s always in your corner, even if he doesn’t always say it outright.

Light NSFW: His support extends to everything, including this. If you’re feeling insecure? He won’t brush it off—he’ll show you exactly how much he wants you, no hesitation. “You’re a goddam perfect. That’s all that matters.”

T – Trust

SFW: Trust is everything to Kick. He doesn’t trust easily, and he doesn’t give it freely. But once he does? It’s unshakable. If he’s with you, it means he trusts you—fully, completely.

He doesn’t need constant reassurances. If he trusts you, he trusts you.

He won’t lie to you, won’t sugarcoat things. If you ask for the truth, you get the truth.

If you ever break that trust? It won’t be an explosion—it’ll be quiet. Cold. And final.

He expects the same in return—if you don’t trust him, it won’t work.

Light NSFW: Trust plays a huge role in intimacy for him. If he trusts you, he lets his guard down, becomes softer in ways no one else gets to see. It’s in the way he lets you touch him, in how he lets go when he’s with you.

U – Understanding

SFW: Kick isn’t the type to push for explanations when you’re not ready to talk. If you need space, he gives it. If you need time, he waits. He’s observant—he can tell when something’s off, but he won’t force you to spill your feelings. Instead, he’ll let you come to him when you’re ready.

If you have a bad day and don’t want to talk? He just exists beside you—silent company, steady presence.

If you mess up? He won’t hold it over you. He understands that everyone screws up sometimes.

He’s not overly emotional, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t get emotions. He just processes things differently, and he gives you room to do the same.

Light NSFW: He’s perceptive in every way, which means he learns you—what you like, what makes you tick. He doesn’t need you to say everything out loud; he figures some of me out and uses that understanding to drive you absolutely wild.

V – Vulnerability

SFW: If Kick is vulnerable with you, it’s serious. It's literally another story, He’s not a man who wears his heart on his sleeve. It takes time for him to open up, but when he does? It’s rare—and it’s real.

You’re the only one who gets to see him tired, frustrated, or uncertain.

If he lets you comfort him? That’s a huge deal. He trusts you enough to lean on you, and that means everything, because since his job was so pressure on him he never had a one to reassure him everything is okay, so now you opened a new kick.

Sometimes, his vulnerability isn’t in words—it’s in letting you be close when he’s feeling worn down, seeing him in this statement, when he is at the loss of words how to tell he is not feeling good he will show his weaknesses with no shame at all.

Light NSFW: This applies to intimacy, too. It’s not just physical for him—it’s personal. If he lets you see him like that, it’s because he wants you to see all of him, not just the hardened soldier.

W – Warmth

SFW: He might not be the softest person in the world, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t warm in his own way. His warmth isn’t loud—it’s quiet, steady, constant.

The way he hands you a cup of coffee/tea without a word, already made exactly how you like it.

The way he would try to cook for you, both of you knowing damn well he sucks and ends up you helping him.

The way he knows when you need comfort, even when you don’t ask for it.

Light NSFW: His warmth is physical, too. His body heat is insane—if you’re cold, he’ll just pull you against him with zero hesitation. And in more intimate moments? Let’s just say, that warmth turns into heat.

X – XO (Hugs & Kisses)

SFW: Kick’s not that super affectionate in public, but when it’s just the two of you? Different story.

His hugs are solid—not soft, but firm, secure, grounding.

Kisses? He’s purposeful about them. He gives them whenever you want to or he want to and adore you—when he kisses you, it means everything to him.

Light NSFW: Slow. Intense. He’s not one for rushed, frantic affection—he takes his time, makes sure you feel it. And once he’s in the mood? Yeah, good luck walking straight afterward (what an odd (cringy) thing to say😍)

Y – Yearning

SFW: Kick doesn’t pine—he wants, and he waits. He’s disciplined enough to keep his feelings in check, but when he’s away on missions, you’re always on his mind.

He always flood you with texts, and the ones he does send? They matter.

He’ll quietly hold onto something small that reminds him of you—a photo, a note, something personal.

He don't do it so much but sometimes he Finds himself talking unconsciously talking about you or anything remind him of you he just goes with "Oh yeah Y/n----" says with a smile on his face a warm one.

The first thing he does when he’s back? Find you. Always.

Light NSFW: When he wants you, he wants you. No hesitation, no uncertainty. He doesn’t just miss you—he craves you. And when he gets back? You’re his for the night. Period.

Z – Zeal

SFW: Kick doesn’t do things halfway. If he’s with you, he’s all in.

He’ll push you to be your best, not because he thinks you need to change, but because he believes in you.

If someone disrespects you? They’re done. No debate, no second chances.

He’s not the loudest person in the room, but when it comes to you, he’s unshakable.

Light NSFW: His intensity applies everywhere—especially when it comes to showing you exactly how much he wants you. He doesn’t just go through the motions—he devours you, like he’s making up for lost time.

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶

Relationship Alphabet series with Cod ghosts!

Keegan Russ

✧ Pairing: Romantic. ✧ Genre: Fluff.

✧ Warnings: Light NSFW, and mention of NSFW content MDNI.

A – Affection

Keegan isn’t one for public displays of affection, but in private, he’s a different man. His affection is quiet but meaningful, shown through small gestures like brushing his fingers against yours when no one’s looking or a firm hand on your lower back when walking together, Love it when you sit on his lap, doing nothing but resting his head on ur back after a long day.

He expresses love through acts of service—bringing you coffee/drink/tea just the way you like it, pulling you closer under the covers at night, or standing protectively between you and a potential threat.

Light NSFW: In intimacy, Keegan’s affection is intense but controlled. His kisses are slow and deep, his hands firm yet careful as they explore your body. He won’t say much, but the way he moves, the way he holds you, makes it undeniably clear how much he cares.

"You feel so good." His voice is husky, lips trailing over your Skin, taking his time with every touch.

B – Boundaries

Keegan is big on boundaries, both his own and yours. He values personal space and isn’t the type to be overly clingy. If you need time alone, he gets it. If he needs a moment to clear his head, he expects the same in return.

He’s also protective of you but never possessive. He trusts you completely and won’t ever try to control you. However, if he senses something or someone is dangerous, expect him to step in with a silent but deadly presence.

Light NSFW: In the bedroom, Keegan respects boundaries immensely. He’s a careful, attentive lover, always making sure you’re comfortable. He won’t push you into anything you’re unsure of and expects the same respect in return.

"Tell me what you want, sweetheart and I’ll give it to you."

C – Communication

Keegan isn’t a man of many words, but when he does speak, he means every word. He’s a good listener and pays attention to the little details. He may not always say “I love you”, but he shows it in ways that speak louder than words.

If something’s bothering him, he won’t shut you out completely, but he’ll take time to process before opening up. He prefers to talk when things calm down, rather than in the heat of the moment.

"I’m not ignoring you. Just... give me a minute."

Light NSFW: Keegan is into talking dirty—he prefers low whispers against your ear, deep breaths, and the occasional groan that tells you everything you need to know. But if you push him, he’ll break, and when he does, his words come out rough and raw, he just has no idea what you are doing to him.

D – Devotion

If Keegan loves you, it’s for life. His devotion isn’t flashy—it’s steady, unwavering, and unshakable. He won’t fall in love easily, but once he does, he’s all in. No hesitation.

He’ll always have your back, no matter what. If you’re in trouble, he’ll drop everything to be there. And if someone hurts you? They’ll have to deal with Keegan Russ in full Ghost mode, and trust me—that’s not a good thing.

Light NSFW: In intimacy, his devotion translates into attention to detail. He’s focused on you—your sounds, your breathing, every movement. He takes his time, making sure every touch, every moment, is memorable.

E – Empathy

Keegan might seem cold and distant, but he’s surprisingly intuitive when it comes to your emotions. He notices the small things—the way your breathing changes, the tension in your shoulders, the subtle way your voice wavers.

He doesn’t push you to talk, but he lets you know he’s there. If you need comfort, he’ll silently pull you into a hug or sit beside you in quiet understanding.

"I don’t know what to say love... but I’m here. That’s not changing."

Light NSFW: Keegan’s empathy extends to intimacy as well. He’s a patient, observant lover, ensuring that he’s not just taking, but giving just as much. He’s aware of what you need and won’t stop until he knows you’re completely satisfied.

"Relax. Let me get it done."

F – Forgiveness

Keegan doesn’t hold grudges, he’s so quick to forgive either, It's like yall get into argument then him out of nowhere after hours come back and talk to you like nothing happened. he just doesn't care about these small issues, he lets them slide easily. But if you break his trust? That’s another story.

It takes time for him to fully forgive, but if he sees genuine effort, he will try. However, if someone betrays him beyond repair, they’re dead to him—simple as that.

"I won’t pretend it didn’t happen, kid."

Light NSFW: In intimacy, if there’s ever a misunderstanding or tension, Keegan prefers to work through it slowly he is a controlled man. He’s not one to jump right into bed after an argument—he needs to feel connected again before anything physical happens, but he couldn't help it with the way his body rise up with heated feelings.

G – Growth

Keegan doesn’t just stay the same—he evolves, and he expects the same from his partner. He’s not afraid of change, but he values stability.

At the beginning of the relationship, he’s reserved and keeps his emotions close to his chest, but over time, he starts letting you in, showing you parts of himself no one else gets to see.

If you're struggling with something, he won’t fix it for you, but he’ll push you to be stronger. He doesn’t coddle—he believes in you too much for that, he believes he should get a strong partner in his life.

Light NSFW: In intimacy, Keegan learns your body over time. Every experience with him is better than the last because he takes note of what makes you shiver, gasp, melt—and he uses it against you.

"You like that, don’t you? Thought so."

H – Honesty

Keegan is brutally honest— yeah with everyone around sometimes too much. but with his beloved partner, If you ask him for his opinion, be ready for the truth, because he won’t sugarcoat it.

He doesn’t believe in mind games or passive aggression. If something’s wrong, he’ll say it outright. If you mess up, he’ll call you out but teasing for to get a madness from you, and he expects you to do the same for him, and honestly he is all for someone honest with him.

Light NSFW: Keegan is into the-top dirty talk, and when he does speak, it’s low, direct, and intense—his honesty carries into the bedroom, and when if you ever do the same with him, He is all down bad for it, he already lost and forgot what he wanted to do with you.

"Damn love, who taught you how to talk like that?" Yes he needs to know the secret.

I – Intimacy

Keegan’s version of intimacy isn’t just physical—it’s trust, understanding, and the feeling of home.

Physical intimacy with him is slow and intense—he’s the type to take his time, memorize every part of you, and make sure you feel everything. But emotional intimacy? That’s something he guards fiercely.

"You’re the only one I let this close. Don’t think I don’t know how much that means."

He’ll let you in bit by bit, sharing the past he rarely speaks about, the fears he never voices. And when he finally does? That’s when you know he’s all in.

Light NSFW: Keegan is all about connection—he wants to feel you, not just physically, but emotionally. He’s focused, intense, and unrelenting when it comes to pleasure.

"Eyes on me, sweetheart."

J – Joy

Keegan’s sense of joy is subtle but real. He’s not loud or dramatic about it, but when he’s happy, you can see it in his eyes, the way the corners of his mouth twitch when you tease him, the rare smirk he gives when he’s feeling particularly amused.

He enjoys simple things—a night drive with you [be safe✌🏻], the sound of rain on the roof, the peace that comes with just existing together.

He’s got a dry, deadpan sense of humor, so if you can match that? You’ll have him hooked.

"You really think that’s funny?" He says with a completely straight face... before finally breaking into a small chuckle.

Light NSFW: Keegan might not laugh during intimacy, but he loves seeing you flustered. If teasing you makes you squirm? He’ll absolutely do it.

"Look at you. So desperate already?"

K – Kindness

Keegan isn’t soft, but he’s good. His kindness is quiet, strong, and unwavering.

He won’t baby you, but he’ll always have your back. If you're having a bad day, he won’t say much—instead, he'll bring you coffee/tea/drink, sit next to you in silence, or press a warm, reassuring kiss to your temple.

He’s gentle in his own way—steady hands on your waist, the way he pulls you close in his sleep, the way he waits for you when you need time to process your emotions.

Light NSFW: Keegan is gentle yet firm in intimacy—his kindness shows in the way he takes his time, making sure you feel safe and wanted.

"I’ve got you. Just let go."

L – Love

Keegan doesn’t fall easily, but when he does, it’s permanent. His love is deep, unwavering, and incredibly strong—a pillar you can always lean on.

He won’t be overly romantic, but you’ll feel it in every touch, every glance, every quiet act of devotion. He’s the type to stay up watching you sleep after a nightmare, to hold your hand out of nowhere and give it a kiss, to kiss you slow and deep like it’s the last time, every time.

"Christ, got any idea how much you mean to me?"

And when he finally says “I love you”? You know it’s real, because he doesn’t throw those words around lightly.

Light NSFW: When Keegan loves, he makes sure you know it—with his hands, his lips, his body, his everything.

M – Memories

Keegan holds onto memories tightly, even if he doesn’t talk about them much. His mind is like a vault, storing every little moment with you—whether it’s the way you laugh, how you take yourself always, or the exact tone of your voice when you tease him.

He isn’t the type to take constant pictures, but he keeps small mementos—your handwriting on a sticky note, a pressed flower from a trip you took together, even a stupid inside joke scrawled on a bar napkin.

If you ever doubt if he cherishes your time together, just know: he does. He always does.

N – Nurturing

Keegan isn’t openly coddling, but his way of nurturing comes through in protective instincts and subtle care. If you’re sick, he won’t smother you, but you’ll suddenly find water, medicine, and a warm blanket within reach. If you’re exhausted, he’ll just tug you into his arms and let you rest against him without saying a word.

"Go to sleep. I’ll still be here when you wake up."

And if you ever break down, he won’t ask questions. He’ll just pull you close, hand steady on your back, heartbeat solid against your ear.

"I got you."

O – Openness

Keegan isn’t naturally open, and that’s the hardest part of being with him. At first, he bottles everything up—he thinks his burdens are his alone to carry.

But over time, he learns that being open with you doesn’t make him "weak". It’s not easy for him, but if you patiently wait, you’ll see him start to unravel in small ways—a hand gripping yours a little tighter, a quiet admission at 2 AM when the world is still.

When he finally trusts you enough to let you in, that’s when you know he’s truly yours.

P – Patience

Keegan is stoic, disciplined, and controlled, but when it comes to you? His patience is infinite.

Whether it’s helping you through something difficult, waiting for you to open up, or calming you down after a bad day, he never rushes you.

"Take your time. I’m not going anywhere."

And if you’re stubborn or having an off day, he doesn’t push. He just stays close, offering his silent presence until you’re ready.

Light NSFW: His patience extends to the bedroom, too. He’s the type to drag things out, savoring every reaction, making sure you feel everything.

"I can do this all night."

Q – Quality Time

Keegan doesn’t care for fancy dates or extravagant plans— Yeah he will go with you for whenever you want but his idea of quality time is just being with you.

He loves the quiet moments—long drives at night, sitting on the rooftop watching the city lights, lying in bed with you, tracing circles on your back just going deep in his thoughts breathing in and out.

"You don’t have to do anything special. Just be here."

His love language is undistracted presence—when he’s with you, he’s fully with you. No phone, no distractions, just you and him, existing in the same space.

R – Respect

Keegan doesn’t take respect lightly. He won’t tolerate being disrespected, and he sure as hell won’t do it to you.

He values your opinions, your choices, your independence. He’ll challenge you, push you to be better, but he’ll never undermine you.

"You’re strong. I knew that the first time I saw you."

If someone crosses the line with you? Keegan won’t lose his temper, but the danger in his eyes will say enough, He is already there throwing hands perhaps.

S – Support

Keegan isn’t the cheerleader type, but his support is unshakable.

If you have a goal? He’ll push you towards it. If you’re struggling? He’ll stand by your side. If you doubt yourself? He won’t even let you start to do it.

"Hey You’re more though than you think. I see it, even if you don’t."

His support isn’t loud—it’s steady. A reassuring touch on your back, a quiet “I believe in you,” a subtle nod when you need it most.

T – Trust

For Keegan, trust is earned, not given. It takes time, but once you have it, he’s all in.

He trusts you with his life, his emotions, his everything. But if you break that trust? It’s almost impossible to rebuild.

"If I trust you, it’s because you’ve won it. Don’t take that softly."

But when he loves you, he trusts you completely—his heart, his body, his soul. He lets himself be vulnerable in ways no one else sees.

Light NSFW: In intimacy, trust is everything to him. He wants to know that you trust him just as much as he trusts you, He trusts you enough that you saw beneath his clothes and the moments you share. together.

"Let go. I’ve got you."

U – Understanding

Keegan is a man of few words, but he understands you better than you might realize. He’s good at reading people, catching onto small details others overlook.

If you’re having a bad day, he won’t ask a million questions—he’ll just hand your favorite snacks, pull you into his arms, and let you breathe.

"You Gonna tell me what happened, love?."

He knows that sometimes, you need space. Other times, you need him to just be there. He never pressures you to talk but will always be ready to listen.

V – Vulnerability

This is the hardest thing for Keegan. He’s spent years keeping his emotions in check, believing that showing weakness could cost lives.

At first, he’s walled off, refusing to let you see the weight he carries. But as time goes on, you’ll see cracks in his armor—soft confessions at night, small glimpses of the man behind the soldier.

The first time he opens up to you, it’s raw and real—not dramatic, not forced, just genuine honesty. And after that? He’ll trust you with parts of himself he never shows anyone else.

W – Warmth

Keegan isn’t sunshine and rainbows, but his love is steady and strong. His warmth comes in silent gestures—a calloused hand brushing your cheek, an arm around your waist as you sleep, the way he always makes sure you’re safe.

"You cold? C’mere."

He isn’t cuddly in public, but behind closed doors, he’ll pull you into his lap, press a slow kiss to your temple, and let you melt into him.

Light NSFW:

He runs warm, and you’ll always notice it at night—his body heat wrapping around you, his breath against your ear as he holds you close.

"You feel good against me, sweetheart."

X – XO (Hugs & Kisses)

Keegan isn’t overly affectionate, but when he wants to touch you, he makes it count.

His hugs are rare but meaningful—a strong arm around your waist, a firm grip on your shoulder, a brief but lingering squeeze before he lets go.

"Goddamit, you mean everything to me."

His kisses are intense—slow, deep, and makeout sessions full of big passion. and for teasing? He’s the type to tilt your chin up, letting his lips brush over yours until you’re practically begging him to kiss you.

"You want more? Say it."'

Y – Yearning

Keegan isn’t the type to voice his longing outright, but you can see it in his eyes, in the way he watches you, in the tension in his shoulders when you’re apart.

If he is gone for a mission, he won’t spam your phone with messages—he’ll just send one text:

"Stay safe. will Come back to you."

When he misses you, you’ll feel it in the way he holds you after you return—his grip a little tighter, his voice softer, the way he just rests his forehead against yours in silence.

Light NSFW: When he’s been away too long? Expect his hands to be greedy, his lips demanding on yours, his voice low and rough in your ear.

"You have no idea how much I fucking missed you."

Z – Zeal

Keegan might seem quiet, but when he loves someone, he loves them with everything he has, And he is questioning himself how this happened or passed him.

He’s devoted, intense, and unwavering—his passion doesn’t burn bright and fleeting, it smolders like an ember, lasting forever.

"You were never a choice to me...I don't get on loveing that easy"

His zeal for you isn’t just in words, but in actions—how he watches your back, how he protects you, how he chooses you over and over again.

Light NSFW: When he’s focused on you, he’s all in. His passion isn’t rushed—it’s deliberate, consuming, leaving you breathless under his touch.

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶

Relationship Alphabet series with Cod ghosts!

Hesh walker

✧ Pairing: Romantic. ✧ Genre: Fluff.

Hesh is a natural leader—strong, confident, and brave. But beneath that, he has a good heart and a gentle soul. He loves deeply, respects his partner, and would go to the ends of the earth to protect them. He’s the kind of man who makes you feel safe, loved, and cherished.

✧ Warnings: Light NSFW, and mention of NSFW content MDNI.

A – Affection

He’s the type to always have a hand on you—never possessive, just present, just there. A grounding touch at the small of your back, his fingers grazing yours as if to remind you he’s close, his arm draped around you in easy familiarity. It’s second nature to him, an unspoken language of affection woven into every gesture.

But Hesh also understands the weight of space, the need for solitude. He’ll step back when you need it, let his love exist in the quiet between moments. And when you reach for him again, he’s there—ready to pull you close, press another kiss to your temple, and remind you that you are deeply, endlessly loved.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” he murmurs, pulling you into a hug after a long day. “Missed you.”

Light NSFW: His affection bleeds into the bedroom. He’s all about praise, warmth, and devotion. He doesn’t just touch—he cherishes. His hands explore, but always with care, always making sure you know exactly how much he adores you.

“Damn, you’re beautiful,” he whispers against your skin. “I’ll never get tired of this.”

B – Boundaries

Hesh is a respectful man. He might tease, push a little, but he’ll never cross a line. He believes in mutual trust, and he expects the same from you.

If you need space? He’ll give it. If you say no? That’s final. If something makes you uncomfortable? He’ll never push.

“Hey, if you don’t wanna talk about it, that’s okay,” he says, his tone calm but firm. “Just know I’m here when you’re ready.”

Light NSFW: He’s attentive in intimacy. He won’t do anything you’re not comfortable with—he pays attention to your body, your reactions. If something feels off, he stops immediately.

“Hey, sweetheart, you okay?” he murmurs, voice gentle but firm. “We don’t gotta rush. I want you to feel good—only if you’re ready.”

C – Communication

Hesh believes that honest communication is everything. He’s straightforward, hates beating around the bush, and always wants to know where he stands.

If something’s wrong, he’ll ask. If you’re upset, he’ll want to talk it out. He doesn’t like leaving things unresolved.

He’s also not afraid to be vulnerable with you. He trusts you, and that means being honest about his own fears and worries.

“I don’t like being away from you for so long,” he admits one night, voice quiet but firm. “I know this life is tough, but damn… I hate leaving you behind.”

Light NSFW: Communication extends into the bedroom. He wants to hear you, wants you to tell him what you like, what you want. He loves feedback—if you moan his name, he’ll smirk, pushing a little further just to get another reaction.

“Oh, you like that?” he chuckles, voice husky. “Damn, sweetheart. Say it again.”

D – Devotion

Devotion defines Hesh, When he loves, he loves with his whole heart—unyielding, unwavering, all in. There are no half-measures, no hesitations. He doesn’t believe in temporary affections or fleeting romances; if he chooses you, it’s because he sees something real, something worth holding onto.

Hesh is a one-person man. No games, no second-guessing. The moment he realizes he loves you, he’s already picturing a future—imagining the life you could build together.

Light NSFW: His devotion extends to intimacy. He’s a giver—he’s here to please. He worships you, makes sure you feel every ounce of love he has for you. He takes his time, slow, deliberate.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he murmurs, lips brushing your skin. “Tonight’s about you.”

E – Empathy

Hesh feels deeply—he can’t stand seeing you upset. Even if you don’t say anything, he knows when something’s wrong.

He’s not just a good listener—he genuinely wants to help. He’ll hold you, rub your back, murmur soft reassurances until you feel safe again.

“I got you, baby. You don’t have to go through this alone.” And if you ever doubt yourself? If you’re feeling insecure? He won’t have it.

“Hey. Look at me.” He tilts your chin up, eyes burning with intensity. “You’re the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me. Don’t you ever forget that.”

Light NSFW: His empathy translates into the way he takes care of you. After intimacy, he’s all about aftercare—pulling you close, Sharing lazy and slow kisses, murmuring sweet things.

F – Forgiveness

Hesh isn’t the type to hold grudges. If you argue, he’ll want to resolve it quickly—he doesn’t like letting things fester.

He believes in talking things out, making sure you both understand each other. If you’re wrong, he won’t hold it over your head. If he’s wrong? He’ll own up to it.

“I was an ass earlier. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry, babe.” when he only just said 'I think you are wrong babe.'

But there’s one thing he won’t forgive easily—betrayal. If you lie to him, break his trust, it hurts him deeply. It takes time to earn back his trust, but if he truly loves you, he’ll try.

Light NSFW: If there’s tension after a fight? He might channel that energy into passion. Heated kisses, needy touches—like he’s reminding himself that you’re still his.

“You drive me crazy, y’know that?” he murmurs against your lips. “But fuck, I love you.”

G – Growth

Hesh believes that a relationship is a journey, not a destination. He knows that people change, and he embraces that. He wants to grow with you, through the good and the bad.

He’s patient when it comes to differences or conflicts. If something isn’t working, he’ll work on it instead of giving up. He listens, learns, and always strives to be a better man for you.

Light NSFW:

With Hesh, intimacy is more than just closeness—it’s understanding, connection, and an unspoken promise to always listen.

He’s not the kind to assume, to take without learning. He watches, he feels, he asks. Every reaction, every breath, every subtle shift in your expression is something he takes in like second nature. He wants to know what makes you tick, what makes you melt, what turns a simple touch into something deeper, something unforgettable.

H – Honesty

Hesh doesn’t play games. He’s blunt but kind, always speaking his mind. If something is wrong, he wants to talk about it, not ignore it.

He expects the same from you. He’s not a fan of mind games or passive-aggressiveness. If you’re upset, he’d rather you say it outright than bottle it up.

Light NSFW: He’s honest about what he wants, but never pushy. If he’s in the mood, he’ll let you know—but he respects your pace and comfort level.

His lips brush against your ear. “You tell me when, sweetheart. I’ll be waiting.”

I – Intimacy

For Hesh, intimacy is more than just touch—it’s trust, vulnerability, the kind of connection that goes beyond the physical. He wants to know you, really know you—the things that make you smile, the memories that shaped you, the quiet thoughts you don’t share with just anyone.

He cherishes the little moments, the ones that most people overlook. Laying in bed together, tracing lazy patterns on your skin as you talk about life, your dreams, your fears. Running his fingers through your hair, feeling the way you relax under his touch. The kind of intimacy that doesn’t need grand gestures or stolen breaths—just being, together, without pretense.

Light NSFW:

When it comes to physical intimacy, Hesh is everything you could hope for—attentive, passionate, and deeply in tune with you. He doesn’t rush, doesn’t take anything for granted. Every touch, every kiss, every movement is a reflection of his care, his desire to make you feel truly seen and adored.

He’s not just focused on the act itself; he’s focused on you. On how you respond, on the way your body reacts to his, ensuring that you feel comfortable, cherished, and safe in every moment. He listens to your body, to your unspoken cues, and adapts, always trying to give you exactly what you need, what you crave.

“You feel so damn good, sweetheart,” he groans, holding you close. “Let me take take care of ya.”

J – Joy

Hesh finds happiness in the little things. A shared joke, a stolen kiss, you laughing at something dumb he did—those moments make his day.

He’s the type to tease you just to see you smile, but he also appreciates when you make him laugh. You’re his safe place, the person who makes even the worst days feel brighter.

K – Kindness

Hesh is strength wrapped in softness, a balance of power and tenderness that creates a safe space for anyone lucky enough to be in his life, When you need comfort, Hesh is there, a steady presence, never forcing but always ready to offer a shoulder, a gentle touch, a word of reassurance. He doesn’t just show up for the big moments; he’s there for the small ones too, the quiet, everyday acts of kindness that carry weight and these acts also come with him in the bed.

L – Love

Hesh’s love is deep, rooted, and unshakable. He’s not the type to rush into things, to fall for the surface level or the fleeting moments. But when he does fall? It’s with everything he has—wholehearted, all-consuming, with no part of him held back.

He’s not afraid to say it first, either. When Hesh knows, he knows, and there’s no hesitating, no second-guessing. He won’t waste time pretending to feel anything less than exactly what he does.

You never have to doubt his feelings. He shows his love in a million little ways—the way he looks at you, the way he touches you, the way he always puts you first.

Light NSFW: Hesh’s love doesn’t just stay within the realm of emotion; it bleeds into every aspect of your connection, especially in the bedroom. His passion is as intense as his affection, but it’s never selfish. He doesn’t just crave your body—he craves all of you.

In his arms, you’re not just desired—you’re wanted in every way that matters.

“Let me love you right,” he whispers, kissing down your neck. “Slow and deep, sweetheart.”

M – Memories

Hesh is the kind of guy who remembers everything. The little things—the first time you held hands, your favorite song, the way your eyes light up when you talk about something you love.

He loves reminiscing, especially when he’s away on missions. When he calls or texts, he’ll bring up little moments to remind you how much you mean to him.

He saves little things, too—a picture, a note, a piece of jewelry you left on his nightstand. When he’s away, he holds onto them like a lifeline.

“Kept this with me the whole time,” he says when he comes home, showing you a small trinket. “Kept me going.”

Light NSFW:

When you’ve been apart for a while, expect nothing short of a heated reunion. The moment you’re back in his arms, there’s no holding back. Hesh has missed you—deeply—and he’s not about to waste a single second.

There’s a hunger in his touch, a desperation to reconnect, to feel you close again. His hands will find you before words even have the chance to leave his lips, pulling you into him like he’s afraid you might slip away. His kiss will be fierce, almost frantic, as if he’s trying to memorize every part of you all over again.

N – Nurturing

Hesh has a natural instinct to take care of those he loves. He’s the kind of person who is always looking out for you, whether that means making sure you’re fed, hydrated, or simply comfortable. If you’re stressed or having a tough day, he’ll take care of you in every way he can.

Whether you’re sick or just need someone to lean on, Hesh will show up—he’ll bring you your favorite tea or sit beside you in silence, knowing sometimes presence is the most nurturing thing.

“I’ve got you, babe. Just rest, let me handle everything else.”

He’s nurturing in the bedroom, too—not just in terms of physical needs, but emotionally. He wants to ensure you’re comfortable and enjoying the moment just as much as he is. He’ll always ask if you’re okay, if you’re comfortable, and if you need anything more.

“Tell me if you need me to slow down,”

O – Openness

Hesh may be reserved, but when it comes to you, he’s more than willing to open up. He’s not the type to share his feelings lightly, but with you, he’s honest and vulnerable.

He’ll talk about his past, his fears, and his hopes for the future when he feels ready—and it’s a sign of just how much he trusts you. He’ll be patient with you if you need time to open up, but he wants you to always feel like you can speak your mind without fear of judgment.

Light NSFW: In intimacy, he’s open to exploring with you. He’s willing to experiment, to learn, to make sure the experience is mutual. If you have desires or things you’ve never tried before, he’ll listen and be patient, letting you guide the way.

“If there’s anything you want to try, just let me know.” He says giving you a wink.

P – Patience

Hesh is incredibly patient, especially when it comes to emotional matters. If you’re going through something, he’s not one to rush you. He understands that healing takes time, and he’s right there beside you, no matter how long it takes.

He’s also patient when it comes to personal space and giving you room to breathe. He knows sometimes you need space to think, and he doesn’t take it personally. He’ll wait for you, not because he has to, but because he knows you need it.

Light NSFW: In the bedroom, he has a slow, steady pace. He doesn’t rush; he takes his time to make sure you’re completely comfortable and enjoying every moment. He’ll never push you into anything you’re not ready for.

“I’m not going anywhere. Let’s take it slow.”

Q – Quality Time

Hesh doesn’t just appreciate time together; he values quality time. He’ll make sure you have those moments—even if it’s something simple like watching movies, cooking together, or having deep conversations on the porch at night.

To him, it’s not about how much time you spend together, but how you spend it. He wants to connect with you on a deeper level, sharing laughs, making memories, and learning from each other.

Light NSFW: Quality time for him in the bedroom is the same—he doesn’t just want a quick release; he wants a connection. He’ll take the time to really enjoy being with you, learning every curve of your body, finding joy in every touch and kiss.

“This is about you, sweetheart.”

R – Respect

Hesh holds respect at the core of his relationships. He knows that respect is a two-way street, and he’ll give it to you in abundance. Whether it’s respecting your boundaries, your thoughts, or your feelings, Hesh doesn’t believe in belittling or taking things for granted.

He treats you as an equal partner in the relationship, and he always makes sure you feel valued. He won’t dismiss your emotions or make you feel small for speaking your mind.

And if someone disrespect you? he will go with "I don't care what she has told, I care what she has been told!"

Light NSFW: In the bedroom, he respects your comfort and your consent. If something doesn’t feel right, he’ll stop immediately. He doesn’t push boundaries; he’s all about making sure both of you are comfortable and having a good time.

S – Support

Hesh is the type of man who will always have your back. Whether it’s a tough day at work, a personal challenge, or an issue in the relationship, he’ll stand by you no matter what. He’s dependable, and you’ll always have his full support.

He’s also supportive of your goals and dreams, encouraging you to go after what you want. If you’re feeling unsure or defeated, he’ll be the one to lift you up and remind you how strong you are.

Light NSFW: He’s supportive of your needs in the bedroom, always making sure you’re enjoying yourselves and comfortable. He’s the kind of man who will listen to you if you tell him what you like and doesn’t hesitate to cater to you.

T – Trust

Trust is everything to Hesh. He’s not the type to share his heart with just anyone, but when he does, he’s all in. He believes in mutual trust, the kind where both of you can be vulnerable, knowing that the other will always have your back.

He’s someone you can trust to keep his word, to always be there when you need him, and to never betray your confidence. He’ll do whatever it takes to prove that you can count on him.

Light NSFW: His trust extends to the bedroom, too. He’ll make sure you feel safe and secure in every moment, always respecting your boundaries and listening carefully to your needs. And his only trust here when he tells you what he likes and what he want you to do for him.

U – Understanding

Hesh is the epitome of understanding. Whether you’re feeling overwhelmed, stressed, or even when you’re just in a mood, he always knows how to navigate those moments with patience. He listens more than he speaks, offering insight only when necessary. He understands when to give you space and when to offer support.

He never rushes you to express yourself, knowing that sometimes, just having someone near is all you need. He wants to truly understand your thoughts and feelings, and he’ll work patiently to ensure you feel heard and validated.

Light NSFW: In the bedroom, he’s deeply attuned to your body language and subtle cues. He knows when you’re comfortable, when you need a little more, or when you’re not quite in the mood. He respects your pace, ensuring that both of you are emotionally and physically aligned.

“Does this feel good?" and he is expecting you to answer.

V – Vulnerability

Hesh doesn’t open up easily, but when he does, it’s because he trusts you completely. Vulnerability is something he’s learned to embrace with you, knowing that it creates a deeper bond. He may not show it all the time, but when he lets his guard down, he’s showing you how much you mean to him.

His vulnerable side is rare, but when it’s just the two of you, he’s not afraid to talk about his past, his fears, and the parts of him that aren’t always strong. It’s a sign of how deep his love for you is.

Light NSFW: In intimacy, he’s vulnerable too. He’s not about showing off, but about creating a real connection. He doesn’t mind being open about what he wants or needs, and he encourages you to do the same. It’s about trust and sharing those moments of raw honesty.

W – Warmth

Hesh’s warmth isn’t something you notice at first glance—it’s in the way he holds you when you’re cold, the gentle touch on your back when you’re upset, or the soft words of reassurance when you’re feeling anxious. He has a quiet warmth that radiates comfort and security.

His presence alone is enough to make you feel safe and not afraid of anything, and his love comes with a steady, warm energy that’s unshakeable. He may not always use words, but his actions speak volumes.

Light NSFW: In the bedroom, his warmth is evident as he takes his time, making sure you feel loved and cherished in every way. He’s never rough or overly aggressive; instead, he’s tender and patient, making sure you’re comfortable and cared for.

X – XO (Hugs & Kisses)

Hesh is a man who’s subtle with affection, but when it comes to you, he’s not afraid to show his love in small, meaningful gestures. He’s a fan of hugs and kisses—the kind that are both comforting and full of affection.

You’ll often find him kissing your forehead after a tough day, or pulling you into his arms for a tight hug when you need comfort. His kisses are never rushed; they’re soft and tender, a reminder of his deep feelings for you.

“Come here.” He says, pulling you in for a hug and pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

Light NSFW: In intimate moments, his kisses are slow and passionate, always deepening when you pull him closer. He’s the kind of lover who will take his time, his lips tracing every inch of your skin as he shows you just how much you mean to him.

Y – Yearning

Hesh doesn’t talk about yearning much, but you can see it in his eyes. There’s a longing in the way he looks at you, a quiet desire to be close and to share everything with you. His yearning isn’t loud—it’s in the way he holds your hand for just a little longer than usual or the way he watches you with admiration when you’re not looking.

He’s the type of man who will yearn for the little things, those small moments with you that make everything worth it.

“I don’t know what it is, but I can’t stop thinking about you. I’m always missing you when you’re not around.”

Light NSFW: In the bedroom, Hesh’s yearning is reflected in his more rough, more deliberate actions. He wants to savor every moment with you, to make you feel like you’re the only thing on his mind. It’s about passion, but also appreciation—he yearns to give you his best.

Z – Zeal

Hesh’s zeal comes from the fire he has inside for the people he loves. He’s passionate and dedicated, whether it’s in his work or in his relationship with you. He’s always the one who’s fully invested, giving his all in everything he does. His commitment to you never wavers.

There’s a fierce loyalty in his zeal. He’s ready to defend you, protect you, and love you with everything he has. That passion is always burning, whether it’s a quiet dedication to making you happy or a more intense devotion to making sure you’re never hurt.

“You’re everything to me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Light NSFW: In intimacy, his zeal is reflected in his drive to please you. He’s not about rushing things—he’s focused on making sure you feel wanted and loved in every possible way. His passion runs deep, and he’s committed to showing you just how much you mean to him.

“You’re mine, and I’ll make sure you feel that every fucking single time.”

UHM ZAMN I WANT HIM sorry for crashing out

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶

Relationship Alphabet series with Cod ghosts!

Logan walker

✧ Pairing: Romantic. ✧ Genre: Fluff.

✧ Warnings: Light NSFW, and mention of NSFW content MDNI

A – Affection

Logan isn’t the most outwardly affectionate person, but when he loves, he loves hard. His touches are subtle but deeply meaningful—hand on your lower back as you walk, fingers grazing yours before he holds your hand, a quick squeeze on your thigh when you sit next to him.

His favorite form of affection? Forehead touches. It’s his way of grounding himself, closing his eyes for a second, and just feeling you there. After a long mission, expect him to just press his forehead to yours and sigh, finally allowing himself to relax.

Light NSFW: Logan’s brand of affection can turn intense fast. It starts with lazy kisses, slow and teasing, before his hands move—gripping your waist, pulling you closer, letting you feel just how much he missed you. He loves dragging his lips down your jaw, murmuring "Mine." against your skin.

B – Boundaries

Logan has firm boundaries, but it’s mostly because of his lifestyle. He’s trained himself to keep emotions in check during missions, and he doesn’t always talk about the things he’s been through.

However, he respects boundaries just as much as he sets them. If you need space, he gives it without question. He might not always know the right words to comfort you, but he’s always there. Sitting beside you in silence, a steady presence.

Light NSFW: While Logan is pretty private, he does have one rule—when he’s in the moment, it’s just the two of you. He hates distractions, hates anything pulling his focus away from you. If you try to tease him with a playful comment while he’s all over you? His grip tightens. "Eyes on me, sweetheart."

C – Communication

Logan isn’t a talker, but he listens better than anyone. He picks up on your emotions before you even say a word, adjusting himself accordingly—if you’re stressed, he’s pulling you into his arms; if you’re mad, he’s giving you space before asking "Wanna talk about it?"

That being said, getting Logan to talk about his own feelings is like pulling teeth. He’d rather show you than say it. When he does open up, it’s usually at night, in the dark, when it’s just the two of you and there’s no pressure.

Light NSFW: Logan doesn’t talk much during intimate moments, but when he does? It’s deep, raspy, and straight to the point. He’s all about action, letting his hands and lips speak for him—but every once in a while, you’ll get a low, "You feel so damn good, baby." whispered against your skin.

D – Devotion

Logan is unshakably devoted. Once you have him, you have him. There’s no half-measures—he’s all in, fiercely protective, always looking out for you even when you don’t realize it.

If you ever doubt his feelings, just look at his actions. He’s the guy who remembers the little things—how you like your coffee, your favorite songs, the exact way you like to be held when you’re upset.

Light NSFW: His devotion carries over into the bedroom. Logan isn’t selfish—he’s focused on you, taking his time, memorizing every reaction. He takes pride in knowing exactly what makes you shudder under his touch, whispering, "Let me take care of you."

E – Empathy

Logan might be quiet, but he feels things deeply. He understands pain, loss, and the weight of things left unsaid. It’s why he’s so gentle with you, even if he’s rough with the rest of the world.

He can tell when you’re holding back emotions, and while he won’t push, he’ll make sure you know he’s there. If you’re upset, he won’t flood you with questions—he’ll just sit beside you, wrap an arm around you, and let you lean into him.

Light NSFW: Logan is in tune with your body. He’s perceptive, catching every little hitch in your breath, every tremble. He watches, listens, adjusts—making sure you’re enjoying every second. And if you’re feeling particularly vulnerable? He’ll slow down, pressing his forehead to yours and murmuring, "I got you, baby."

F – Forgiveness

Logan doesn’t hold grudges, but he doesn’t forget either. If you hurt him, he needs time. He won’t lash out, but he’ll go quiet, processing everything internally.

That being said, he doesn’t stay mad forever. He knows nobody’s perfect, and as long as you’re honest with him, he’ll always work things out. He’s not the type to bring up old arguments—once he forgives, it’s done.

Light NSFW: If you’ve had an argument but made up, Logan’s version of making up is intense. He doesn’t say much—he just pulls you in, kisses you like he’s making up for lost time, and reminds you exactly how much you mean to him without a single word.

G – Growth

Logan isn’t the same man he was before he met you. He’s spent so much of his life as a soldier—his purpose was always about the mission, never about himself. But with you? He’s learned how to live, not just survive.

It takes him a while to open up, to let himself be vulnerable, but he does it because of you. You push him in all the right ways, and he silently thanks you for it every day.

Light NSFW: Logan used to think intimacy was just about physical connection, but he’s learned there’s so much more to it. He grows with you—learning what you like, adjusting, making sure that every time feels better than the last. "Tell me what you need, baby." he murmurs, fingers tracing slow patterns on your skin.

H – Honesty

Logan is a terrible liar. He doesn’t sugarcoat things, doesn’t play games—if he says something, he means it. If he doesn’t like something, he won’t pretend otherwise.

But when it comes to emotions? That’s different. He struggles to express them, to admit when he’s feeling off. He’s still learning that it’s okay to talk about the things weighing on his mind—but with you, he’s trying.

Light NSFW: Logan is honest about what he wants. He’s not one for flowery words or elaborate speeches, but when he looks at you with half gazed eyes and says, "Need you right now." you know he means it.

I – Intimacy

For Logan, intimacy isn’t just about physical closeness—it’s about trust. He shows his love in quiet ways: resting his head in your lap after a long day, tracing slow circles on your skin as you lay beside him, whispering your name in the dead of night.

There’s something sacred about being close to you, something grounding. It’s the only time he can truly let his guard down.

Light NSFW: Logan doesn’t rush intimacy. He takes his time, savoring every reaction, every whispered breath. He watches you more than anything, memorizing the way your body moves under his touch. Intimacy with Logan isn’t just physical—it’s a promise.

J – Joy

Happiness sneaks up on Logan when he’s with you. It’s in the little things—the way you laugh at his deadpan jokes, the way you reach for his hand absentmindedly, the way your presence makes the world feel a little less heavy.

His joy is quiet but deep. It’s in the rare moments where he smiles, where he presses a kiss to your forehead and mutters, "Didn’t think I could have this."

Light NSFW: Logan’s joy in intimacy comes from you—watching your reactions, feeling your body relax under him, knowing that he’s the reason for your pleasure. He finds an almost smug satisfaction in pulling soft gasps from your lips, murmuring, "That’s it, baby. Let go."

K – Kindness

Logan isn’t overly affectionate, but his kindness speaks through his actions. He doesn’t always say "I love you," but you can see it in the way he makes sure you eat, the way he tucks a blanket around you when you fall asleep, the way he holds your hand just a little tighter when he feels like something’s wrong.

He’s gentle with you in a way he isn’t with anyone else. The world has hardened him, but with you? He softens—just a little.

Light NSFW: Even when he’s rough, there’s a tenderness in the way Logan touches you. He never takes more than you’re willing to give, never pushes too far. His kindness carries into every intimate moment—checking in, making sure you feel safe, whispering reassurance between kisses.

L – Love

Logan loves deeply, completely, permanently. He doesn’t fall easily, but when he does, it’s all or nothing.

His love is loyalty—standing by your side through everything. His love is trust—letting you see parts of him no one else gets to. His love is forever—even if he doesn’t always say the words, you know.

Light NSFW: Love with Logan is slow, deliberate, consuming. He doesn’t just want you—he wants every part of you, every sigh, every whispered moan, every ounce of trust. "Be mine, please..." he murmurs against your lips, not as a demand, but as a promise.

M – Memories

Logan holds onto memories like old photographs—silent, but deeply treasured. He’s not the type to talk much about the past, but he remembers everything.

The first time you made him laugh so hard he had to look away. The way your eyes lit up when he gave you something small but meaningful. The moment he realized he was in love with you, staring at you when you weren’t looking, thinking, God, I’m in trouble.

Light NSFW: Some of his favorite memories? The way you whispered his name in the dark, breathless and wanting. The look in your eyes when he had you pinned beneath him. The way you fell asleep tangled in him, completely trusting. Those memories replay in his mind more than he’d ever admit.

N – Nurturing

Logan might not be overly affectionate, but he takes care of you in ways you don’t always notice. He makes sure you eat, gets you water without you asking, pulls you against him when he feels you shiver.

If you’re sick or hurt, he’s silently hovering—doesn’t fuss, doesn’t baby you, but he’s right there. Holding your hand, rubbing slow circles into your back, making sure you feel safe.

Light NSFW: Nurturing carries over into intimacy—Logan takes his time, always attuned to what you need. If you’re stressed, he makes it slow and comforting. If you’re aching for him, he meets you where you are. He reads you like a book, and he’s always willing to give.

O – Openness

It takes Logan a long time to open up. Not because he doesn’t trust you, but because he’s spent his whole life keeping things locked away.

But the more he loves you, the more he tries. He won’t always have the words, but he’ll show you in the way he grips your hand just a little tighter, in the way he pulls you close at night, in the way he whispers a quiet "Don’t go anywhere, okay?" when he’s half-asleep.

Light NSFW: Openness is harder for him here—he's used to staying in control. But when he lets go, when he trusts you completely? It’s different. He tells you what he wants, tells you how good you make him feel. And if you ever whisper something soft and intimate in return, he’ll never forget it.

P – Patience

Logan is patient, but in a quiet way. He doesn’t rush things, doesn’t push—you take your time with him, and he lets you.

If you’re upset, he doesn’t demand answers. He waits. If you’re struggling, he doesn’t offer empty words—he shows you he’s there, steady and unwavering.

Light NSFW: His patience extends into intimacy—he takes his time, savoring every little reaction, every sound you make. He’s in no hurry. He’ll tease, pull back, make you beg if he wants to—because Logan knows that waiting makes everything that much better.

Q – Quality time

Logan isn’t big on grand gestures—his love is in the small moments. Sitting on the couch in silence, driving in comfortable quiet, watching you sleep just because he likes the way you breathe next to him.

He prefers one-on-one time over anything else. No distractions, just you and him. That’s when he feels most at peace.

Light NSFW: Logan likes to take his time. Quality time in intimacy means making every second count—pulling you onto his lap, tracing slow patterns on your back, watching you with darkened eyes. He’s not the type to rush—he wants to enjoy every single second of you.

R – Respect

Logan respects everything about you—your choices, your independence, your emotions. He might be protective, but he never tries to control you. If you say no to something, he listens.

If someone else disrespects you? That’s a different story. Logan doesn’t yell, doesn’t make a scene—but there’s something dangerous in the way his jaw tightens, in the way he stands just a little taller.

Light NSFW: Respect carries over into the bedroom. He doesn’t assume, doesn’t take—he asks, listens, watches. Your pleasure matters just as much as his, and he never crosses a line. "Tell me if you want me to stop." he murmurs, his lips ghosting over your skin.

S – Support

Logan isn’t great with words, but his support is unwavering. If you have a goal, he’s right there—helping, encouraging, believing in you more than you believe in yourself.

If you ever break down, he doesn’t panic—he just holds you. No forced words, no pressure—just quiet, solid support.

Light NSFW: Support, for him, is about giving. He’s focused on you, making sure you feel wanted, cherished, taken care of. He watches your every reaction, adjusting, always making sure you’re taken care of first.

T – Trust

Logan doesn’t trust easily—but when he does, it’s forever. He doesn’t just let anyone in, doesn’t just rely on people, but with you? He does. He trusts you with his fears, his love, his life. He might not say it out loud, but he proves it every single day. Light NSFW: Trust in intimacy means complete surrender. Letting you see every inch of him, letting you touch him in ways no one else has. And if he ever whispers, "I trust you." in the middle of everything—you know just how much it means.

U – Understanding

Logan might be quiet, but he’s deeply observant. He picks up on the little things—your moods, your small habits, the things you don’t say out loud.

He understands when you need space, when you need comfort, when you just need to sit in silence together. If you’re struggling, he won’t push—but he’ll be there.

If you ever argue, he doesn’t get defensive or angry—he listens. He might not be the best with words, but he’ll try to see things from your side. "I get it," he’ll say, voice low but sincere. "I’ll do better." And he means it.

Light NSFW: Logan understands your needs without you having to say much. He watches, he listens, he feels. He knows when to take things slow, when to be rough, when to hold back. If something doesn’t feel right, he stops immediately—because at the end of the day, your comfort matters most.

V – Vulnerability

Logan doesn’t let people in easily. He’s spent too long keeping things bottled up, carrying burdens on his own.

But with you? It’s different.

You see the parts of him no one else does—the quiet fears, the sleepless nights, the weight he carries. He won’t cry in front of most people, but with you, he might. And if he does, he trusts you enough to let it happen.

"I don’t… talk about this stuff," he mutters one night, staring at the ceiling, your fingers tracing slow circles on his chest. "But I want you to know."

Light NSFW: Vulnerability in intimacy means trusting you completely. Letting his guard down, letting you see him undone. He’s used to being in control, but when he trusts you enough to surrender—to let you take the lead, to let himself be soft—that’s when you know how deep his love runs.

W – Warmth

Logan isn’t openly affectionate in public, but when it’s just the two of you? God, he’s warm.

He’s a silent protector—pulling you against him without a word, tucking you beneath his chin, resting a hand on your back whenever he walks past. He’s not one for grand romantic gestures, but the way he holds you, the way he breathes a little easier when you’re close—that’s love.

If you ever shiver, he’s already pulling you into his jacket. If you’re sad, he presses a slow kiss to the top of your head, lingering, silent, but solid.

Light NSFW: His warmth in intimacy is overwhelming. He’s all-consuming, pressing into you, heat radiating from his skin. Even after everything, he doesn’t let you go right away—he stays close, fingers lazily tracing your back, murmuring soft, unspoken affections against your skin.

X – XO (hugs & kisses)

Logan’s kisses are slow, deep, meaningful. He doesn’t rush them, doesn’t take them for granted. If he kisses you, he means it.

He loves forehead kisses—a silent I’m here. He kisses your knuckles without thinking, absentminded and affectionate. He pulls you close by your waist, pressing his lips against your temple after a long day.

Hugs? He holds you like he’ll never let go. Strong arms wrapped around you, solid and steady. He buries his face in your neck sometimes, just breathing you in. And if he’s been away for too long? He’ll pull you into him, grip tight, heartbeat steadying against yours.

Light NSFW: His kisses become desperate when he’s craving you. Rough, deep, needy. He kisses like he’s starving for you, like he can’t get close enough. And when he finally pulls away, lips slightly swollen, eyes dark? God help you.

Y – Yearning

Logan isn’t dramatic about his feelings, but God, does he miss you when you’re not around.

He won’t say it outright, but it’s in the way he keeps checking his phone, the way his fingers twitch when you’re not there to hold them. The way he breathes just a little deeper when he finally sees you again.

He doesn’t send long texts, but he’ll send things like: "You okay?" "Miss you." "Be home soon."

And when he finally is home? The first thing he does is find you.

Light NSFW: The longer he’s away, the more desperate he is when he returns. He doesn’t even bother with words—he just grabs you, pulls you in, takes what he’s been missing. There’s a hunger in him, a need that only you can satisfy.

Z – Zeal

Logan’s love isn’t loud or flashy—but it’s fierce.

He loves fully, deeply, endlessly. When he’s with you, there’s no hesitation—he’s all in. He shows his love in every little action, in every glance, in every quiet, steady presence.

If someone ever tries to hurt you? God help them. Logan doesn’t lose his temper often, but when it comes to you? He doesn’t hold back.

And when he tells you he loves you? It’s forever.

Light NSFW: His passion in intimacy is undeniable. He wants you, adores you, worships you. He doesn’t just go through the motions—he’s dedicated to you, body and soul. Every touch, every kiss, every breath—it’s all for you.

Because Logan Walker? He doesn’t love halfway.

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶

Imagine (seperated hcs and story for both of logan and hesh) wanting to date s/o and wanna tell elias about it since he trained them hard with discipline, then them thinking he my not like it or thinking they are slacking in their life, but it turns out elias actually knew they like S/O and he is totally supporting them

(Sorry im really bad at english but i don't mean elias is a bad or controller father😭😭)

I get u! I liked this ksjvauvhapreiu, They think he’ll be strict, but he surprises them

anon: also they are talking about Fem reader!

Logan Walker

Logan is not scared of much, but telling Elias that he wants to date you? That makes his stomach twist.

He knows Elias trained them hard, expected nothing but discipline, and he doesn’t want him to think he’s losing focus.

He overthinks it for days, wondering if Elias will think it’s a bad idea.

Hesh notices. One day, he just gives Logan a flat look and says, "You’re acting weird. Just tell him."

Logan finally works up the nerve but doesn’t know how to start the conversation.

So logan heads up to elias, Telling hime he wanna talks about something important.

The campfire crackled in the quiet night, faint embers floating up into the cold air. Elias sat across from Logan, arms crossed, watching him with that unreadable expression— actually waiting for him to speak something. Logan cleared his throat, gripping the beer in his hands a little too tight.

"So," Elias finally spoke, giving a simple smile. "You gonna tell me what’s got you looking like you just stepped on a landmine?"

Logan exhaled slowly. This was it.

"I… I wanna date someone," he said, voice steady despite the way his fingers fidgeted.

Elias arched an eyebrow, can't help but his smile widened a bit. "Oh?"

Logan hesitated, searching for the right words. "It’s not just anyone. It’s—It’s Y/N."

The silence stretched for a second. Logan braced himself for any kind of disappointing lecture that elias may give to him, for Elias to tell him that he needed to focus, that this wasn’t the time for distractions. But then—Elias chuckled.

Not a mocking one. A warm, knowing one.

"Logan, son… I was wondering when one of you boys would finally admit it."

Logan blinked. "What?"

Elias leaned back, shaking his head with amusement. "I’m not blind. I saw the way you look at ‘em...." Elias let out a sigh holding his beer "’s the same damn way I used to look at your mother."

Logan swallowed. He hadn’t expected this. Not this easy acceptance, or the mention of their mother.

"You… you don’t think it’s a bad idea?"

"A bad idea?" Elias scoffed. "Logan, if there’s one thing I regret, it’s not telling your mother sooner that I loved her... I fought it for a long time. Thought I had more time. But war doesn’t wait for love, son. You grab it when you can."

For the first time that night, Logan let out the breath he had been holding.

"So… you’re okay with it?"

Elias grinned, reaching over to clap a heavy hand on Logan’s shoulder. "Hell yeah, I am. Just don’t be a damn coward about it, yeah?"

Logan chuckled, shaking his head. He should’ve known Elias would see right through him.

────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────────

Hesh walker

Same as logan, he never opened up with elias about his emotions.

Having hard times to get to the point but then he got it!.

He runs through a million worst-case scenarios in his head.

What if Dad thinks I’m not taking training seriously?

What if he thinks I'm slacking?

Of course he is gonna say yes but what if he feels kinda disappointed?

He practices how to bring it up but it always sounds dumb in his head.

He finally tells Elias when Logan gets tired of his whining and tells him to just do it already.

"Okay, okay, but what if he doesn't like it?"

Logan gave him a flat look. "Then what, he grounds you?"

Hesh groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Man, I don’t know! I just—I respect Dad, y’know? And if he thinks this is a bad idea, then—"

Logan cutting him off, deadpan "Then you’ll be a grown ass man crying in his room. Got it. Just go talk to him."

So he did. Well. Kind of.

It took another hour of pacing outside Elias’ office, logan swore that if he hadn't respected hesh he would have thrown him in the office and get done with it already, Then hesh finally knocked and walked in.

Elias glanced up, seeing Hesh standing there with his usual energy—but there was something underneath it.

"Something you need, son?"

Hesh shifted, rubbing the back of his neck. "Uh… yeah. So. Funny thing—" He broke with a very short chuckle.

Elias waited with a bit frowning eyebrows. Hesh cleared his throat.

"I’m, uh. I’m dating Y/N"

Silence.

Hesh Looked at everything but elias pretending he hadn't said anything.

Then—Elias just laughed.

Hesh blinked. "…Wait, what?"

Elias leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, still smiling. "Son, I’ve known that since the second you started looking at her like she put the stars in the damn sky."

Hesh’s face went red feeling the heat. "Hey now dad..."

"Oh, you do. You got my heart, Hesh. Wear it all over your face."

That shut him up. Elias softened a little, voice lowering.

"Your mother was the best thing that ever happened to me. Kept me grounded. Reminded me there was more to life than just war."

Hesh swallowed hard. Elias let out a breath, watching his son for a moment before nodding.

"Come on now...I had you in this life when i was only 23, you're 28 man up!"

Hesh wasn’t expecting that level of support, but something about it made his chest feel lighter. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and grinned.

"Man, I was so ready to start doing push-ups on command."

Elias chuckled. "Well, since you brought it up—"

"Nope, I'm leaving." Elias laughed as Hesh bolted out the door.

And as Hesh walked away, he realized—he didn’t just get his father’s approval.

He got his blessing.

When i see the memes in this fandom get more notes (like from 70-100 or higher) than ACTUAL good fic, and then yall say we are having a lack of fics and hcs😭😭😭🙏🏻

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶

Sir kick.

Knigh! kick! X Queen! F!reader

notes: slight nsfw? I know this rlly can't happen or the moments been kinda illogical but come on chat this century has become extinct, Let's have fun.

Words: 3,583

also not using thou, art etc... idrk abt them chat

For years, you have been bound in chains of duty, shackled to a marriage not of love but of power. A union sealed in ink and coldly witnessed by courtiers who care not for the heart that beats beneath brocade and gold. You were promised to a man who holds dominion over kingdoms, yet none over your affections.

The king—your husband—is a fortress of ice, impenetrable and unyielding. His gaze, when it does fall upon you, is one of obligation, not devotion. His hands, ever steady in matters of state, have never trembled with longing for you. And so, the years have passed in a silent war, your heart waging battles he will never deign to notice.

One evening, beneath the weight of candlelight and crushed velvet, you dare to speak.

"Is there anything within these walls that you do love, Your Majesty?"

He does not look up from his documents. His quill moves, steady and unhurried.

"Do you expect a sentimental answer, my queen?"

"I expect a truth, if you still recall how to speak one."

At that, he pauses. The fire crackles, filling the space between you. When he finally meets your gaze, his expression is unreadable, a mask carved from stone.

"My duty is to the realm. Love is a luxury I was never granted."

"No," you say, voice sharper than the jeweled dagger at your hip. "Love is a luxury you never desired."

He does not deny it.

And so, your restlessness grows, a storm stirring beneath silken gowns and polished smiles. One day, the storm will break. And when it does, the king will be forced to see what he has long ignored—whether it be your wrath, your departure… or your betrayal.

---------------------------

Then, Sir Kick steps into the picture.

You sense him before you see him—the shift in the air, the low murmur of courtiers parting as he strides through the chamber. When your gaze finally finds him, he is already watching. He stands at the far side of the royal court, his armor gleaming beneath the chandelier’s golden glow, every inch of him a warrior among men who speak only in parchment and coin. His presence commands attention, but it is the way his eyes sweep over the room—then settle upon you—that sends a spark racing up your spine.

That gaze… it is dangerous. Familiar.

You have felt it before, lingering when it ought not to, igniting something within you that has long been smothered beneath duty and decorum. Unlike your husband, Sir Kick is a man of action, a man who does not waste breath on empty speeches or politics spun from dust. His wit is as quick as his sword, his charm sharper still.

And most of all, he does not fawn over your crown.

No, he does not see a queen, a figurehead draped in velvet and restraint. He sees a woman. And that—above all—is what makes him dangerous.

Kick tilts his head slightly, a silent challenge in his expression. He knows precisely what he is doing.

And worse still?

So do you.

You already know that tonight, it is happening.

The thought lingers at the edges of your mind, winding through your veins like a slow-burning flame. There is no hesitation, no wavering. The moment has been inching closer with every stolen glance, every unspoken word exchanged across the great hall, every quiet yearning left to fester in the dark.

And tonight, the dark will no longer be empty.

The court is still alive with laughter and politics, the air thick with the scent of wine and candle smoke. The king, ever dutiful, is engrossed in matters of state, his back to you as he bends over parchment, sealing his attention to anything but you.

It is almost too easy.

You rise from your seat with practiced grace, your departure barely noticed amid the swirl of conversation and music. Your footsteps are quiet, measured, as you weave through corridors draped in shadow, the weight of your gown trailing like whispers against the stone floor.

Then, the signal—small, deliberate, undeniable.

Your fingers brush the edge of your collar as you pass through the archway, a movement so subtle that only a man accustomed to watching you closely would notice.

And Sir Kick does.

No words are needed. The silent command is clear.

The small chamber at the far end of the castle—the one hidden away from prying eyes, where the last bell will toll, and where, at long last, this night will unfold exactly as you have both willed it to.

And as you disappear into the shadows, you know he will follow.

The door closes behind him with a quiet click, sealing you both away from the world beyond these walls. The moment Sir Kick steps into the dim glow of candlelight, his smirk unfurls—slow, knowing, edged with danger. He removes his helmet with a practiced ease, shaking loose the mess of black hair that falls over sharp, amber eyes. Those eyes flicker as they settle on you, brimming with that same reckless, playful confidence you have come to recognize.

And yet, beneath the bravado, there is something else. Something unspoken.

He takes a step forward. Then another.

His movements are unhurried, deliberate, until the space between you is little more than a breath. Close enough that you can feel the heat of him, the steel and leather of his armor mingling with the faint trace of something unmistakably him.

Kick does not waste time.

"It seems your king has left you quite lonely," he murmurs, voice low, teasing—but not entirely mocking. No, he is far too perceptive for that. He knows what this is. What this could be.

Your spine remains straight, chin lifted with the pride of a woman who was never meant to be ignored. The soft breeze tugs at the silk of your gown, brushing against your skin like a ghost of a touch.

"Mind your discipline, Sir Kick," you reply coolly. "He is your king, too."

Your words are firm, but the fire in your chest betrays you—burning, roaring to life after years of being buried beneath duty and cold indifference. And Kick… Kick sees it.

He always has.

A slow, knowing smile tugs at the corner of his lips. "Ah, but a crown does not make a man worthy." His voice is quieter now, his gaze tracing over you with an intensity that sends a shiver through you. "Nor does it make a woman any less deserving of being seen."

And in that moment, as the distance between you teeters on the edge of something irreversible, you realize—he is not asking permission.

He is waiting to see if you will grant it.

"Do you think you’re the first knight to think such things?" Your voice is steady, unwavering, yet threaded with something hotter, something undeniable. Your gaze narrows just slightly—not in warning, but in challenge.

Sir Kick does not falter. He only smiles, slow and deliberate, before a laugh escapes him—low, rich, tinged with arrogance. The sound curls around you like smoke.

"I am not like the others," he muses, tilting his head as if amused by the very idea. "They are noblemen draped in steel, men who wear titles as if they are armor. Nothing more."

He takes a step closer, his presence pressing into yours, the warmth of him cutting through the cool night air.

"But—" he leans in just enough that you can feel his breath against your skin, his voice dipping into something hushed, something edged with certainty— "we are not here for just talk, Your Majesty."

Your pulse does not betray you, but he knows. He always knows.

The air between you is charged, a thin thread pulled too tight, waiting—daring—to snap.

And this time, you are the one who must decide.

With a single step forward, Kick closes the distance, his presence wrapping around you like a silent vow. His gloved hand settles lightly against your back, his touch barely more than a whisper against the delicate fabric of your gown. And yet, it is enough. A shiver dances down your spine, betraying you in ways words never could.

He knows exactly what he’s doing.

His charm is effortless, woven into the very way he moves—every shift, every glance brimming with an unshakable confidence that sets him apart from the lifeless courtiers who whisper empty praises in your ear. He does not hesitate. He does not ask.

He simply takes.

And for once, you welcome it.

Because this—this is what you have longed for. The spark. The fire. The undeniable sense of being seen, not as a queen bound by duty, but as a woman aching to be touched, to be wanted.

Kick’s fingers press just slightly, guiding you closer—not enough to overstep, but enough to remind you of the choice that lingers between you. A choice you are more than ready to make.

Without another word, Kick closes the space between you, his lips descending in a deliberate, slow motion. The first brush of his mouth against yours is light—teasing, almost as if he's savoring the moment, testing the boundaries. The faint pressure lingers, a quiet invitation, but it does not take long for you to pull him closer.

The yearning inside you surges, a wave that has been building for years, drowning out all the hesitation and restraint. You need this. You want this.

With a boldness that surprises even you, your lips part and meet his in a kiss that is anything but tentative. It is deep, hungry, and without reservation. The pressure between you builds, both urgent and reckless, as if your souls are calling to each other—demanding, aching for something only this moment can fulfill.

Kick’s hands move swiftly, finding the curve of your waist, his fingers grasping the soft fabric of your gown. He pulls you against him with such intensity, your body flush against his. The cool bite of his armor against your skin contrasts with the scorching heat that radiates from his chest, the firm press of muscle beneath the metal.

For a brief second, he pulls away just enough to breathe, his gaze locking with yours. His eyes search yours, intense and focused, measuring the weight of this moment—this choice.

A silent question lingers in the air. Will you go further? Will you let this consume you both?

But you know. Neither of you will pull back now.

"You're not shy, Your Majesty," he breathes, the words slipping from his lips with a hint of amusement. A smirk dances across his face, pulling at the corner of his mouth as his eyes study you—devouring the fire in your gaze.

You meet his stare without flinching, unwavering in the heat of the moment. "Shyness was never an option, Sir Kick," you reply, your voice steady, a trace of something darker in your tone. "I have nothing to lose."

His smirk deepens, but there’s a flicker of something more—recognition, perhaps, or admiration.

You’ve made your choice. And it is clear, to both of you, that nothing will stand in the way of what comes next.

As Kick’s hand slides down to your waist, pulling you further into the heat of the kiss, time seems to slow. You melt into him, the world around you fading, leaving only the intoxicating feeling of him against you. But then, without warning, there’s the unmistakable creak of a door opening—a soft, hesitant shuffle of footsteps.

A breath catches in your throat.

The man freezes in the doorway, his wide eyes taking in the scene before him. His hands twitch instinctively toward his weapon, unsure whether to flee or to sound the alarm. He’s seen enough to understand the situation unfolding before him, but uncertainty hangs in the air.

But Kick—ever the confident knight—doesn’t flinch. Not even a twitch.

You, on the other hand, gasp against his lips, trying to pull away, startled by the intrusion.

Kick does not yield. He does not break the kiss, instead drawing you closer still, his lips lingering on yours for just a moment longer—slow, deliberate, as if to make sure every ounce of the moment is savored before he pulls away.

When he does finally pull back, his eyes do not seek you. They turn, effortlessly locking onto the crew member standing frozen in the doorway. His gaze is cool, amused even, as if this were nothing more than an amusing interruption, rather than an undeniable breach of decorum.

Kick remains close, his body still pressed against yours, the heat of him never fading. His voice, deep and laced with that characteristic playfulness, cuts through the tension in the air. “Ah, a late-night wanderer, is it? I must admit, I don’t recall sending for company.”

The crew member’s face goes a shade lighter, his eyes darting nervously between you and Kick, unsure where to settle his gaze. He can’t seem to tear his attention away from the knight who stands so confidently, every inch of him exuding power and daring.

“My… my apologies, milady, Sir Kick. I did not intend to... interrupt.” The words stumble from his mouth, his voice quivering slightly under the weight of the situation.

Kick’s smirk widens, and he steps closer to the man, completely unbothered by the interruption. His tone shifts, deepening with a subtle threat wrapped in amusement. “Interrupt, you say? How unfortunate.” His gaze never leaves the crew member’s face, studying him like a predator eyeing its prey.

The tension in the air is thick, suffocating, and for a moment, it seems as if the world has gone still, the only sound the beating of your own heart.

“Now,” Kick continues, his voice low and dangerous, “tell me, good man, does this situation call for... the death of a loyal subject, or shall we let you return to your duties?”

The crew member’s breath catches in his throat. His hands tremble slightly, torn between fear and the bewildering absurdity of Kick’s words. He knows—he knows well enough that, despite the knight’s playful tone, this is not a question one would answer lightly.

The room hangs suspended between two worlds: one of royal consequence, the other of recklessness and daring.

The crew member stiffens, his body rigid with nerves as he scans the room. His eyes flicker to you, searching for a sign—an indication of whether he should flee or stay, whether he will be met with mercy or wrath.

Kick, still standing close, keeps that infuriating smirk on his lips. His voice drops lower, tinged now with mocking amusement. “Do you need to be reminded of your place, or is it clear enough for you to depart without further need of... persuasion?”

The words hang heavy in the air, each syllable dripping with the promise of consequence, but there’s something else beneath it—a dark playfulness, as if this is all a game to him, one in which the crew member is an unwilling pawn.

The poor man shifts uneasily, his feet planted but clearly uncomfortable. He stands frozen, caught in the middle of a situation he was never meant to witness. The awkwardness is palpable, and you can almost feel his pulse quickening. He tries desperately to hold onto his composure, but it’s slipping.

He is a man who knows well enough the power of royalty—but what does he know of knights who mock it so boldly? What does he know of the dark games played beneath the surface of titles and crowns?

Kick watches him with those dangerous eyes, waiting for the crew member to make his choice. Every breath in the room seems drawn tight, as if the next move will send the entire situation spiraling out of control.

For a brief, tense moment, you stand still, caught between the weight of the situation and the undeniable pull of the power that Kick exudes. His presence looms like a storm—unfazed, teasing, his every word a sharp note, his smirk never wavering. But beneath it all, you know this could go one of two ways: You could end this charade, banish the crew member and regain control—or you could allow Kick to toy with him, a choice that might reveal more than either of you are prepared to handle.

With a deliberate breath, you step forward, breaking the stillness. Your voice rings out, calm and measured, but beneath it lies the unspoken weight of royalty. “There is no need for dramatics, good sir. You may leave now, and I trust you shall say nothing of this to anyone.”

The command is clear. Your words leave no room for debate, no space for disobedience. The crew member nods quickly, clearly grateful for the queen’s composed, regal demeanor.

But before he can take his leave, Kick’s voice slithers through the air, full of mischief, his tone laced with a dangerous undertone that threatens to undo any calm you’ve offered. “You heard her, good man,” he says, still leaning casually against the space between you and the crew member, his eyes alight with an unmistakable gleam. “Leave now, and we won’t need to have a longer conversation about your future... unless, of course, you find the idea of becoming a knight’s plaything more to your liking.”

The implication hangs heavy between them, a challenge wrapped in a jest that leaves the poor crew member trembling in his boots. His eyes flick nervously between you and Kick, his grip tightening on the doorframe as if it were the only thing keeping him anchored.

The door clicks closed with a soft thud behind the retreating crew member, leaving you and Kick in the dim light of the chamber.

You turn to face him, arms crossed, an eyebrow arched in mock disapproval, but there’s the slightest curve of a smile on your lips—one that speaks of both amusement and challenge. “You’re insufferable. We are in the royal chambers, Kick, not some tavern. Have a bit of decorum.”

Kick’s smirk has only grown, his gaze never leaving you as he steps closer. His grin widens, and the mischief in his eyes dances like flames on the edge of a storm. “Ah, but where’s the fun in that, my lady?” he says, his voice smooth, laced with the promise of trouble. “I did not expect such... eagerness from you. I must admit, your taste for the forbidden is... intoxicating.”

His words hang in the air, just as the space between you and him shrinks. Every syllable a challenge, every inch of him a magnet pulling you in. He knows. You know. There’s something about this dangerous edge, the way he pushes, the way you can’t help but lean into it.

You hold his gaze, the playful tone in your voice not quite hiding the heat that flickers beneath it. “And what if I told you, Sir Kick, that the only thing more intoxicating than that is the danger of making it real?”

The air between you thickens, becoming something both dangerous and thrilling. You’ve found what you’ve longed for in Kick—the passion, the confidence, the very thing that’s been absent from your life for far too long. In his presence, you are no longer just the queen, the dutiful wife; you are a woman who has reclaimed something for herself.

Without a word, you step forward, your movements deliberate and fluid. With a swift, commanding gesture, your hands reach for the iron of his armor, and in one smooth motion, it falls to the ground with a soft clink, the weight of it no longer between you.

Kick exhales slowly, his chest rising and falling beneath the remaining layers of his attire. He looks down at the discarded armor, a side smile tugging at his lips, a quiet acknowledgment of your boldness. His eyes lift to meet yours, and there’s something in his gaze—a flicker of both surprise and admiration. He isn’t used to being unseated so easily, but something about you is different.

“I do believe you’re starting to make your intentions clear, my lady,” he murmurs, his voice low and filled with an unmistakable edge of excitement. He doesn't move yet, still lingering in the moment, as if savoring the shift that has happened between you.

You gasp softly, caught off guard, and a surprised laugh escapes you. You've never experienced anything quite like this—this bold, fearless display of power. In an instant, Kick’s strong hands are at your waist, lifting you effortlessly off the ground. With a swift, confident motion, he throws you onto the bed, the soft thud of your landing muted by the lavish fabric, but the effect is undeniable.

You steady yourself on your hands, bracing against the softness of the sheets as your eyes meet his, a mixture of shock and anticipation flooding your chest. you saw him. taking his shirt off, His build is evident—solid, controlled, each movement a reflection of the strength he carries with him, and yet, there’s something gentler in the way he looks at you now.

Kick, for all his cocky bravado, is never careless. He’s always mindful, always aware of the power dynamics at play. He's careful not to make any overt move that might call attention, even now, as his eyes scan you with a mixture of hunger and respect. But here, in the hidden corners of the castle, in the quiet shadows of the royal garden where the walls can't listen, you and Kick have carved out a dangerous, intoxicating space just for yourselves.

You sit up, looking at him, the weight of the moment sinking in. “One day, this will be over, won’t it?” you ask, your voice quiet, carrying with it an understanding that only the two of you share in this fleeting space of freedom.

Kick’s grin widens as he steps closer, the playful edge still lingering in his gaze. “Perhaps,” he says, his voice thick with promise. “But tonight, Your Majesty, let’s enjoy the here and now.”

Kick leans down, his breath brushing against your skin as he moves closer, his hands steady and sure as he guides you back onto the bed. The kiss comes swiftly, claiming you with a fire that burns away any hesitation. In that instant, the world outside the room disappears. The soft pressure of his lips is a promise, a stark contrast to the cold neglect you’ve known for years.

You fall back against the bed, your heart racing as his kiss deepens. You’ve never known anything like this—never felt so desired, so alive. The emotions that surge through you now are a sharp contrast to the emptiness that’s haunted you for so long. Deprived of tenderness, of passion, of connection—what did you endure all of this for? To live beside a king who could never see you, never understand you, only the crown you wear? A man who’s a bastard to treat you this way.

But Kick—Kick has filled the emptiness in your heart. Where there was cold distance, there is now warmth. Where there was neglect, there is now care. His touch, his kiss, they have filled every vacant corner of your soul with a fire you never thought you’d feel again.

And in that moment, with the world outside forgotten, you are free.

𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙚!

{𝙧𝙚𝙦𝙪𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙙!} 𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙠𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙓 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧!

𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨:𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣

words: 1211

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: 𝘼𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙐.𝙎. 𝘼𝙧𝙢𝙮, 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙫𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙖𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙙 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙢 𝙤𝙛 𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙂𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙨. 𝘽𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙥𝙖𝙧𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙖𝙫𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙢 𝙞𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜, 𝙗𝙪𝙩 𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙡 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙚—𝙗𝙪𝙞𝙡𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙧𝙚𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙥𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙨. 𝙇𝙤𝙜𝙖𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙆𝙞𝙘𝙠 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙛𝙚𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙢, 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙮𝙤𝙪’𝙫𝙚 𝙖𝙡𝙬𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙖𝙙𝙢𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙙. 𝙃𝙤𝙬 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙘𝙩 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙞𝙧 𝙩𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙚𝙡𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙪𝙣𝙞𝙩?

Logan walker:

when you first enter the kitchen for a coffee you found him there leaning against a counter looking at the floor

lord have mercy why am i nervous? that's what you thought and because of that you barely even said "yo" coming out of your mouth

Quietly nods at you in acknowledgment. He’s not much of a talker

Then while you are making coffee you will see him trying to put the spoon in the roaster.

"LOGAN DON'T!!"

The type to quietly pass you the ketchup before you even realize you need it and this made you go "oh. thanks!" and he go nodding

while you were eating you will find him organizing his food into sections on his plate like it’s a tactical map and hime looking like he is doing an art.

this made you more and more knowing he is so cute bye

you always thought because of his calm personality he may be Arrogant because he is elias's son i mean that is the first impressions

but guess what he offers to help you settle in by carrying your gear and that surprised you and made you look stupid and he looks dumbly at you when you're flushing

i can see him as a spending time he Loves card games and casually invites you to join him for a round of UNO.

He’s ridiculously good at bluffing, which makes sense given his silent demeanor.

He wins nearly every game, leaving you wondering if he’s secretly psychic.

Surprisingly, you were talking to each other while playing, which made you ask him in the middle of the discussion if he had ever had a partner before.

He looked at you with his dead eyes, making you wish you hadn't asked.

lmao that was just his regular look he shrugged looking at the card then spoke quietly "no...but hesh was the one who gets partners honestly" he actually started open up by saying "i mean i could but i didn't have time for that since dad used to train us" :(

HIS VOICE WAS SO COMFORT WHEN HE WAS TALKING AND YAPPING

after a hella of weeks with him he was in charge of training you, he is patient when helping you with drills. He doesn’t say much, but his feedback is always spot-on.

"You gotta stay still i can see your hips moving while you're shooting"

he sighed when you did this again "we are gonna have a looong time.." hesh said while smirking at logan who closed his eyes for connection with nature

Tries to be helpful but ends up accidentally making things harder. Like that one time he threw a training dummy at you during a reflex drill.

but you were too distracted by Riley barking in the corner and suddenly attacked him out of nowhere. You got tackled by the dummy.

You find him outside staring at the stars with Riley by his side. He doesn’t mind your company and even lets you pet Riley.

Surprisingly opens up during quiet nights. One time, while cleaning his gear, he shared a story about his dad teaching him how to fish as a kid. “I hated it at the time cause i fell unconsciously in the water, but now… I kinda miss it.”

It caught you off guard but made you appreciate how much depth there is to him.

Has a secret stash of snacks in the base, which you accidentally discover one night. He doesn’t get mad, just sighs and says, “You can have one. One.” he warned you👺

Starts inviting you whenever he go to the bar after a succeful mission with the team "i think it would be great if you come with us not sitting here in boredom".

LORD HAVE MERCY he shocked with a small smile in the bar while you were talking which made you think that mf smile like us?

he is so sweet but you can't see this since he is so straight to his tasks no jokes, no laughs thats what the ghosts are

Gives you a once-over, arms crossed, and deadpans, “ Another rookie. Try not to trip over yourself, yeah?”

he thought you won't go last here lol

and he thought it like that in the training “What are you doing? That’s not cover. That’s standing awkwardly behind a fucking barrel you gotta be fucking kidding me.” He’ll roast you relentlessly

but then show you exactly how to fix your mistakes, complete with sarcastic commentary.

"i bet you were shoved in lockers as a kid" you thought you got rid of merrick but kick is here

He’s the guy barking at you during obstacle courses, making sure you don’t slack off. “Move faster! You think the enemy’s gonna wait for you to climb a wall?”

even though you're doing your best he is just trying to wake you up by what he think

"the last soldier i was in charge of you made him look like a superhero to me"

Doesn’t pull punches—literally or figuratively. If you mess up during sparring, he’ll call you out. “C’mon, kid, is that all you got?”

But when you finally land a hit on him, he smirks and says, “Not bad. Don’t let it go to your head.”

and then he flips you on the floor like a burrito

Once you found him checking on the computer and it was clearly a report. "man shut up no one gives a darn about riley eating biscuit" hesh

"hey kick where i can find papers?"

"in the locker." he said simply then when you opened you were shocked by how many computers and keyboards in there "WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT WINDOWS 98?"

"yeah i can't throw that masterpiece" he said proudly smirking looking at you resting on his chair

"no DO NOT touch that retro keyboard unless I tell you to!"

once you found him Reads books like spy thrillers or military history during his free time.

He pretends not to care when you ask about them, but five minutes later, he’s explaining the entire plot of The Hunt for Red October with surprising enthusiasm.

Eats like it’s a mission. No small talk, just shovels food like he hasn’t eaten in a week.

He’ll occasionally toss a sarcastic comment your way, like, “You gonna finish that, or are you on a diet?”

Joins you in the common are He doesn’t say much at first but eventually opens up with a dry joke or two.

“If you think today was bad, wait until Merrick decides a mission Afghanistan. You’ll wish for combat drills.”

Doesn’t usually talk about himself, but when he does, it’s in the form of dry, understated remarks.

“I’ve seen worse places than this base. Like that time I got stuck in a swamp for two days. Don’t recommend it.” You can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

letting you take the last slice of pizza during dinner. He doesn’t say anything just looking at you blankly

"..."

"..."

"ok have it"

you catch him smirking when you thank him. “Don’t get used to it.”

He’s the one who bluntly points out where you’re lacking. “Your reaction time is decent, but you’re slow on target acquisition. Fix that, or you’ll be a liability.”