#Kick cod

[ravenwalkerx]

random ramble time cause i can

Hesh is dark green, Keegan is navy blue, Logan is like teal or light blue, Elias is brown or sage green, Rorke is red, Kick is purple, Ajax is grey, Fed Logan is burgundy or dark red, Merrick is like a really deep purple

if you get it you get it

[staniyabuns]

YOU JUST STABBED ME!?

The Walkers.

[tanakamg]

🤍Kick Appreciation🤍

[mie-png]

WHEN I PUT IT IN YA BRATHA

This is super shitty

[ll7esxs]

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

✧ 𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐋𝐄: Showing their love/care to you. [requested] ✧ 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌: Call of duty ghosts ✧ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: Logan walker, Hesh walker, Keegan russ, Thomas merrick, kick ✧ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Romantic ✧ 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄: all fluff ✧ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: Safe.

Logan walker:

He’s a soldier boy before he’s a man.

The way he puts himself between you and the street without thinking. The way he touches your back lightly when you both walk through a crowd.

Logan as i see him has never got an experience with dating nor loving.

Acts of service? 10/10. He is just so obedient man.

If you're cold? He doesn't ask — he just tosses a blanket over your body and tucks it around your neck with a quiet:

“Better?”

Always watching, always remembering.

Doesn’t talk much in crowded spaces, but his eyes are on you. Watching your expressions, reading how tired you are, seeing how you shrink a little when the world gets too much.

He’s the one making dinner, pulling you into a quiet couch hug with no questions, just comfort.

A Homebody When He’s With You

His voice gets lower/quiter when he’s relaxed around you.

Barely audible sometimes, half-whispered. He speaks softly like the whole world could wait while you talk about your day.

(from the grunting in the missions logan make they are always soft, like a young man voice :()

When he's off duty, he's so domestic.

He likes doing dishes with you. Will dry the cups quietly while standing beside you, listening to the water run.

Wakes up early and lets you sleep.

He’ll sit on the edge of the bed tying his boots, moving slow so the mattress doesn’t shift.

Sometimes he’ll just look back at you, still asleep, with this unreadable expression — something between awe and guilt, like:

“How did I get this lucky?”

Lowkey Physical Affection

Rarely initiates in public, but…

His hand always finds you. Lower back, shoulder, brushing his fingers against yours in crowded areas. Just enough to ground you both.

Loves being near you in silence.

He’ll sit on the floor while you read. Lean against the wall while you fold laundry. Sometimes just lay a hand on your ankle while scrolling through something with that faraway expression of his.

His kisses are firm, slow, and rare.

But when he does it? It's like the world stops for a second. Like he needs to make sure you feel it — like it’s a promise without words.

Protective but Calm

Never panics — but he notices everything.

If someone’s staring too long, or you look uncomfortable with someone’s tone, he doesn’t even need to speak. One look from Logan is enough to make anyone rethink their entire day.

Keeps one ear open at night, always.

Doesn’t sleep deeply when you're next to him — not because he’s anxious, but because that protector instinct doesn’t switch off.

If you shift too much or sigh in your sleep, you’ll feel his arm pull you in closer, heavy hand settling on your side like armor.

Love Through Routine

Never forgets dates.

He doesn’t make a show of anniversaries — just wakes up early and makes your coffee exactly the way you like it, sets it next to a small box: a keychain, a photo, something quietly sentimental.

“Been a year,” is all he says. But his eyes? Full of it.

Has a drawer at your place.

It’s organized with military precision. A flashlight. A change of clothes. A spare knife. Some of his favorite socks.

It’s not just storage. It’s his way of saying: this is home too.

Leaves notes when he can’t say goodbye.

Folded post-it stuck to the fridge:

“Didn’t want to wake you. I’ll be gone a few days. Lock up. Don’t forget to eat.”

Always signed off with just: –L.

Quiet, Gentle Jealousy

Never aggressive. Just observant.

If someone flirts with you? Logan doesn’t interrupt. But he’ll step a little closer, brush his hand over your lower back, speak in a voice lower than usual:

“something wrong fella?”

He is ready to throw hands.

When He’s Hurt (Physically or Emotionally)

He’s terrible at letting you help him.

Will absolutely downplay a wound.

“It’s nothing. Just scratched.”

But the way he winces when he sits down gives him away. You patch him up, and he’ll mutter something like:

“…you’re too good to me.”

Emotional pain? Comes out in subtle ways.

Like longer silences. Shorter sleep. Distant stares at nothing.

When that happens, you just sit near him, maybe bring him a beer.

After a while, he’ll just lean his head on your shoulder and whisper:

“You keep me grounded.”

close to your ear, maybe after a long day when he’s lying beside you with a hand on your chest.

“…Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Hesh walker:

Oh do not get started (glaze time), ok joking.

When He Loves You? It’s in the steady way he holds you when the world’s too loud.

It’s in the fact that you’re the only one who’s ever seen him let his guard down — seen the grief behind his father’s death, the guilt after missions, the fear of losing people again.

And when you hold his hand, when you choose to stay with him through all of it — he looks at you like you’re the only calm in the storm he’s always in.

This is love for him.

His Love Language Is Reliability

He never makes promises lightly.

But when he does? He keeps them. If he says he’ll be back Friday, it might be 3AM — but he’ll be at your door.

Helps you with practical things: fixing things around the house, picking up your meds when you forget, standing behind you while you try to figure out the grill, whispering an advice in your ear with a grin while holding your waist.

That makes you slightly feeling tickled.

"You can’t cook steak like this sloppy, sweetheart. Let a lieutenant man show you how"

Protective, But Never Overbearing

If your job ever involves risk, he doesn’t coddle. He respects your strength. But he makes you promise to check in.

“You’re tough. I know that. Just let me know you’re safe, yeah?”

If he ever sees someone flirting with you, he won’t confront them. He just walks up, puts a hand low on your back, and looks down at them with a smile that isn’t really a smile.

“Hey, baby. Ready to head out?”

The look in his eyes makes it real clear: back off. But he’ll never raise his voice.

Carries a photo of you tucked into a side pouch.

It’s not a fancy photo. It’s candid — probably a shot you didn’t know he took, you laughing at something dumb he said.

And If you ask about it? “It’s not for me. It’s so I don’t forget what I’m coming back to.”

Casual Domestic Stuff that Feels Like Forever

He shaves in the bathroom with the door open

He always leaves something of his behind when he leaves.

A shirt on the bed. His dog tags hanging over your mirror.

Hesh likes driving with you, windows down, one hand on the wheel, the other on your thigh. No destination. Just motion, and being beside you.

He Remembers Everything You Say

The snack you offhandedly said was hard to find? He carries three of them in a tactical bag, offers one with a casual,

“You said these were gold, right?”

You tell him you had a bad dream while he was deployed. The next time he’s back, he spends three nights staying up late just talking with you, gently cuddling with you and rubbing your arm until you fall asleep.

"I'm not gonna go anywhere tonight"

Warm Physical Affection

Resting his forehead against yours.

One of his signature moves — a quiet, a grounding gesture. If he’s had a rough week, or you look tired, he’ll do it.

You’ll be doing something mundane, and he’ll wrap his arms around you from behind, chin tucked into your shoulder.

Calls you things like:

“sweetheart,” “trouble” when you tease him, “my love” low and serious, and sometimes, “sunshine” when he's really in the mood to make you melt.

Keeps you in the loop, even when he can’t tell you everything.

“I can’t give you details, but we’re not going far this time. I’ll send something, alright? Just so you don’t wait up wondering.”

He hates secrecy when it comes to you, even though it’s protocol. So he shares just enough to give you peace of mind — always careful not to cross lines, but never leaving you in the dark.

Does quiet perimeter checks when he visits your place. He won't say it aloud unless you ask, but he always checks the windows and locks when he gets in.

Keegan p. russ

What Love Looks Like With Keegan.

He’s the kind of man who stays.

Through hell, through silence, through fear.

You could break, and he’d still be there beside you. Steady.

Keegan may be cold to the world — but he’d give you his entire heart without ever saying a word about it.

But when something breaks him — like losing someone, or a brutal memory — he’ll find you, wordless, and just rest his forehead against yours.

You feel the quake in his hands. You hold him through it.

He doesn’t need comfort. He needs you.

When He’s Sick or Injured

He will 100% downplay injuries.

“It’s nothing.”

He only lets you treat him because you insist — and even then, he looks away, jaw tight, muttering:

“Don't have to.”

But when you’re sick?

Cold exterior drops a bit.

He doesn’t hover — but he stays in the same room. He brings you water, makes soup, and sits at your feet reading/staring while his elbows rest on his knees in silence.

"Not good with this shit taking care of sick people thing"

But you look at the blankets he tucked around you and the meds lined up perfectly on the table…Yes he is. and professional about it.

Everyday Moments Where You Feel His Care

He hates talking on the phone. But if you text him "home safe?" after a mission — he'll always reply within a minute.

Simple messages:

“Yeah.”

“Be back soon.”

“Missed you.” (only after long missions and he’s exhausted)

If he wakes up before you, he always checks the locks.

You never have to ask. It’s just what he does.

He moves around the apartment in silence like a ghost, making breakfast maybe, turning the heater on, folding the blanket over you again.

When you’re stressed?

He doesn’t give speeches. He just sits beside you, takes your hand, and stays. His thumb brushes the back of your hand — over and over. Steady. Reassuring.

He’s not jealous. He’s possessive in the quietest way.

No scenes. No words. Just closer.

His arm brushes your back. His eyes track anyone who gets too close.

If someone crosses a line? You don’t even see him move.

You just hear the words,

“You’ve got five seconds to back off.”

If you’re in danger? He’ll burn the world down. No hesitation. Tactical. Lethal. And once you’re safe, he doesn’t even brag.

He just pulls you close, checks you over with rough, fast hands and a voice low with fury:

“Are you okay? Tell me right now.”

Physical Affection That Comes Slow but Meaningful

I don't see him as a fan of PDA.

But in private, when it’s just you and him in low light, laying side-by-side with only the hum of the city outside — he’ll slip a hand on your waist/back. Callused, warm, anchoring.

His hugs are rare. But when they come? You melt.

Arms around your waist, head buried in your shoulder, quiet inhale like you’re the only place he can breathe properly.

He kisses you like it’s the only thing keeping him human.

No rush. One hand cupping the back of your neck, eyes closed, like he’s grounding himself in you before the world turns to noise again.

Keegan is not touchy or loud about love.

But if he lets you close, you know you mean everything.

You’re the only person allowed to see his silences not as distance — but as calm. He doesn’t need to fill the air when you’re in it. That’s his love language.

When Keegan starts falling for you, it’s not some rom-com moment — it’s in how he lingers in your doorway a second longer before leaving.

How he always walks you to your door.

You never have to tell him twice what you like or need. He listens. Quietly. Closely.

He remembers every detail — your tired tells, your comfort movies, the exact way your breath catches when something bothers you.

He may not comment — but he will adjust everything to protect you from it.

Thomas Merrick

WE ARE WILDING HERE

Sigh i just i know this man shows his love in a rough way and can be so lovely partner at the same time :(

Merrick is the kind of man who believes “if you say it, you better mean it.”

So when he says “I love you,” — it’s not daily. It’s not light.

It’s rare. It’s honest. It lands like an oath.

He doesn’t toss the word around. When he gives it to you, it’s for life.

He’s not the romantic in the movie sense. But he’s romantic in the quiet, strong ways that matter:

Carrying your bags without saying a word.

Fixing your door hinges or changing light bulbs like it’s second nature.

Teaching you how to shoot “just in case, darlin’.”

Holds the door. Always. Walks on the street side. Knows your order by heart.

He’s not performative — this is just how he was raised. “You take care of what’s yours. That’s it.”

When he’s off duty and finally unwinds, it’s simple:

Just jeans, a quiet record playing, a drink in his hand, and you curled next to him on the porch or couch.

He doesn’t talk much during these moments — just rests his hand over you and watches.

Someone disrespects you — even subtly — you’ll see his entire posture change. Shoulders square. Chin lifts.

He’ll handle it with a look or just a sentence.

“You might wanna take that tone elsewhere, partner.”

Calm. Cold. Final.

He does background checks on anyone you mention from work. You never asked him to — but he just needs to know you're safe.

“I don’t trust easy. You know that.”

If You're Sick or Hurt

Wraps his whole day around taking care of you.

Brings water.

Keeps your meds on a schedule.

Reads labels twice.

His version of comforting is “practical love.” He tucks you in, sits nearby, and talks in a low, grounded tone: “You just rest. Let me handle everything else.”

It takes a long time for Merrick to open up emotionally.

He doesn’t like weakness. He doesn’t do breakdowns.

But when something gets to him — like losing a brother-in-arms — you’ll see him quiet. Real quiet.

And then he’ll just say:

“He didn’t deserve to go like that.”

And he’ll just let you hold him, for once. He won’t say much else — but you being there means everything.

You walk past a shop window and mention something off-hand?

Next week, it’s in your hands.

He shrugs “Figured you’d like it. That’s all.”

He smells like cedar, gunpowder, and soap.

When he hugs you, it’s like every storm disappears.

His hugs are solid. Full-body. Protective.

Not the type to rock you gently — more like you just got caught in a safe storm.

He hates leaving without saying goodbye. Even if you're asleep, he leans in and whispers:

“See you soon, sweetheart.”

Kick

Ok straight ti flirting.

“So, what’s someone like you doing in someone like me’s life?”

He grins as you roll your eyes, then leans in and kisses your cheek like he just won the lottery.

He’s shameless. He loves seeing you roll your eyes.

He’s the kind of partner who pretends not to care about couple-y stuff… but he’s always doing it anyway.

Quietly restocks the things you always forget

He won’t mention it, though. He’ll just act like it’s always been there. “What? You think this place runs itself?” tell him thank you.

Smart-Mouth with a Soft Spot man.

He likes to make a lot of jokes to tease you and he knows if he had gone too much or not.

But if someone makes fun or a joke on you he just goes with "..."

or with "You done?" if he is brave enough.

But under the sass, he’s lowkey obsessed with you.

Like—not clingy. Just always aware of where you are, how you're doing.

You say, “I had a bad day,” and he's already halfway through setting up your favorite comfort routine.

You send him selfies?

He sets them as his lockscreen, background, tablet wallpaper, and maybe puts one in his HUD just for the hell of it.

His excuse?

“Motivation. Don’t judge my methods.”

Always calls you before missions. Even if it’s 10 seconds.

“Hey. Just reminding you: you’re stuck with me, and I’m coming home.”

He lives to get under your skin—but in the softest ways.

Rewrites your shopping list with things like “kisses, [energy drink name] and popcorn.”

Plays dumb so you’ll explain something, cause he just likes to hear your voice, see how deep and rumbling about it.

But when you’re overwhelmed or low?

He’s instantly serious.

Just leans in and asks, quietly,

“Alright, what do you need from me?”

He acts tough. Smart mouth. Tech genius. But the second he’s home, he's melting.

Pulls you into bed face-first.

Buries his face in your neck.

Whispers, “Didn’t even realize how bad I needed this.”

Submissive? Yeah, lowkey.

He doesn’t call it that. But if you ask him to lay back while you handle things? He’s smiling. Proud.

“Told you — I got the best taste.”

You initiate anything romantic or physical?

He blushes. Denies it. But the look in his eyes is pure putty.

“You tryna end me? 'Cause it's working.”

Sends memes, inside jokes, and voice notes from base.

The voice notes always end with a mumbled:

“...love you. Don’t say it back if you’re in public. Don’t wanna make people jealous.”

When he’s sick?

He’s dramatic. Whiny.

“Babe...this is how I go. This is the end. Remember me sexy.”

But when you’re sick?

He’s silent, steady, doting. Doesn’t let you lift a finger.

Teaches you about tech if you're interested.

Gets overly excited explaining it.

Lets you solder something and says:

“You're hotter when you’re holding a wire cutter, not gonna lie.”

If i keep talking about this man the post gonna be NSFW bye.

[spicelod]

GHOSTSKAWAS!!!!!!!!!!!

[cheeseatlantic]

yuhh one look give em whiplash!!! beat drop with a big flash korean korean korean think fast!!!!

CoD characters as parents!

price, gaz, ghost, soap, alejandro, rudy, graves, valeria, keegan, hesh, logan, ajax, kick and könig… 😞

Price would be a very nice dad, as in would be the dad that LOVES his kid’s friends, takes them as his own and if a friend comes to his house they are eating at least a snack. but a partner? quokka fluffy price is being brutally stabbed and his cold captain comes into play, silently judging your kid’s partner and you have to hit him and scold him to be nice. eventually warms up and the two go on fishing trips together.

Gaz carries around two pink sparkly backpacks for his two daughters, loves them. And those bags have all the essentials, snacks, toys, change of clothes and hand sanitizer. Doesn’t matter where you go the backpack is coming too, and he insists on carrying it too! You just watch him take over and you just relax. Probably cried on the first day he dropped his girls off at school.

Soap, this man holds his son like a dad holding a fish, funniest shit ever. Accidentally swears in front of his son, his son is like a parrot and says the swears everywhere and Johnny thinks it’s funny, until you get mad at him for teaching the kid how to swear. Definitely makes explosives with the kiddo in the backyard, keeps them safe of course but scares the shit out of you.

Ghost? GIRL DAD THROUGH AND THROUGH. Him with a teenage girl is a dangerous combo, any boy looks at her funny to Simon and he’s pulling up to pick his little girl up in full tactical gear to scare off any potential boyfriends/girlfriends. Definitely helps her with school projects, except he’e massive and somehow accidentally makes minor mistakes. Or has stickers on his face, has his nails painted occasionally or plays princess dress up and drinks his tea pinky out and legs crossed, little plastic princess heels made for a four year old on his big toes.

Alejandro would definitely encourage your kid(s) to do extracurriculars, and at events he will be the absolute loudest person cheering. With signs, and everything. Let’s use soccer as an example he would be a soccer dad, got the van and everything. Makes sure the kids respect you, if not they will get a scolding and a firm tap with the slipper, he would never hurt him.

Rudy would be the most tolerant dad ever, want to stay out late? Maybe if he knows who his kid is out with, sure. A sucker for puppy dog eyes though, one time his kid saw someone selling bunnies on the side of the road and looked at it for a second too long, few years down the line you have a rabbit the size of a small dog and Rudy absolutely adores it.

Graves is the daddest of all dad’s if that makes sense. Does the weird throat thing at ungodly hours, the hand thing when the kids have snacks in the car and carries them around on his shoulders, probably cream abuses them (aggressive lotion application)… Makes sure his kids get outside and they will have a strict screen time limit until like middle school. Caught him playing Barbies with your daughter once.

Valeria is the definition of protective mother, she would be strict but means well. If one of her men lets say scares your kid she is yelling at the man until he cries. Definitely keeps her kids out of her line of work, but never her line of sight. HELICOPTER MAMAAAAAA

Keegan would be the type of dad to stay up with your baby when their fussing at night, or as you guys call it ‘the night shift’. When the baby starts babbling he just nods along, tells you that “Look at ‘em! Planning world domination, definitely my spawn.” Would tell them to take swimming classes and all that survival shit to be safe when their older. Made the baby a tiny version of his mask and carries a rattle wherever he goes in his pocket. (mandatory)

Hesh would definitely make Riley reveal the gender with a tennis ball filled with pink or blue pigment, trained Riley to bring him clean diapers, pacifiers and everything. Him and Riley are basically teaming up to raise this kid, and you don’t really have to worry about much.

Logan would be very interesting, would give your baby a whole apple to eat if their growing their teeth in but makes them wear an apron and keeps the area extremely clean if their painting. Frames every little painting and probably does those cute little crafts with them like the pumpkin butt thingy.

Ajax is probably the funnest dad quite literally ever, installed a whole play place in your guys’ backyard just because, makes sure to make the kiddos childhood as memorable as possible which means doing stupid shit with them and occasionally ending up at the doctors for a broken arm or something. Definitely freaks out when they get sick and buys everything, just piles the medications at the store in when you ask him for medicine.

Kick is totally becoming a soccer mom, Lululemon insulated mug, the van and a cooler with snacks in the back. Probably known as the ‘cool dad’ at your kid’s school. Definitely feeds into brainrot and such to keep the cool dad status. Your kid probably turned into a partial iPad kid.

Seeing König with a baby for the first time was absolutely hilarious to you because he was so big and the kid was so small, definitely refused to breathe on the baby incase he hurt it. But once he started holding the baby he turned into a jungle gym, let’s the baby use his mask as a baby blankie, made himself a new one. Spends way too much on the baby… A concerning amount.

i really feel sigma rn guys

[alixrose-r0rke]

Wishing there was more Rorke content out there fr fr 🤞😔

I wanna blow him so bad :(

(Anyway my mate sent me this, if anyone knows the orig maker please tell me so I can credit them 🫶)

[onlyroach]

this has been in the drafts until today 🗣🔥‼️‼️

[antomatkoen]

erm guys i was looking for ingredients for my soup and….i found this weird thing in a pit.. does anyone know what it is?

[fkbhen]

[vikingghostwriter]

If Ghosts had Instagram stories

Keegan: black screen, white text — “leave me alone”, location tagged as literally a bush.

Hesh: gym selfie, captioned: “War crimes and protein shakes 💪🇺🇸”

Logan: accidental photo of ceiling + Riley's butt

Merrick: motivational quote over a battlefield — “Adapt. Overcome. Clean your damn room.”

Kick: blurry selfie mid-explosion, caption: “LMFAO Rorke who???”

Riley is the smartest member of the Ghosts

Merrick: “We need to breach that door quietly.”

Logan: Kicks the door open

Hesh: Throws a flashbang inside for the vibes

Keegan: Sigh..

Riley: hacks the keypad and opens it gently with his paw

Everyone: 👀

Hesh: “I raised him well.”

Keegan, the emotional ahh soldier

Hesh: “Why do you always look so angry?”

Keegan: “I’m not angry.”

Logan: “You literally growled at a pigeon this morning.”

Keegan: “It was staring at me wrong.”

Riley: [barks in agreement]

Hesh: “…you’ve been spending too much time with the dog.”

[alix-rose-r0rke]

Two words, Man Ass.

[mie-png]

My cod ghosts eye hc🧎

Left photo credit to @gunnrblze , right photos credit to Pinterest.

[ll7esxs]

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.

[keegansdarling]

Can I request HC’s for walking in on the ghosts and accidentally catching them masturbating?

Sorry for the late reply. I had imaging done and an appointment with my hematologist. 22 tubes of blood knocked me into a coma!

Let me know of you'd like me to tweak this ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️🧡💛💚💙💜❤️

Keegan P. Russ

Keegan’s quiet. Serious. Calculated.

Which is why it’s a shock when you peek through the cracked door of his quarters and see him on his knees in front of the bed, shirtless, flushed, rutting into his fist.

Your panties, your panties, are stuffed in his mouth just to get a taste of you. He knows it's sick and he shouldn't have taken your clothes from the hamper but god… he lives the taste of you. Your panties are muffling his low grunts as his hips twitch.

He doesn’t notice you at first. He’s so focused, so lost in it.

But then he hears the faint creak of the floor.

His eyes snap up.

He freezes. Then, stone-faced, not a word, he pulls the panties from his mouth, walks over, hands them to you, and shuts the door.

You don’t speak of it. But you definitely notice your underwear keeps disappearing after laundry.

---

Ajax (Alex Johnson)

Ajax is passionate, loud, and a total himbo, but once he finishes? It’s game over.

You walk into his room and find him completely naked, covered in cum, abs streaked, hand still loosely wrapped around his softening dick…

And he’s asleep.

Like out cold.

Snoring faintly, mouth slightly open.

His brows are furrowed like he was really into it, but the man nutted so hard he knocked himself unconscious.

You just stand there in stunned silence. Do you cover him? Leave him? Steal his blanket?

Either way, he has no idea you ever saw him. Unless you tease him about it later, and then he just goes, “Wait WHAT? You saw that? …Was I impressive at least?”

---

Kick (Jonathan Kukowski)

Kick's in bed, lights low, headphones around his neck, phone screen still lit with something definitely not safe for work.

You come in without knocking, thinking he's just working late.

He looks up as you catch him mid-stroke, his cock thick in his hand.

No flinch. No panic. He just gives you a look.

Doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t stop.

Just blinks, smirks, and keeps stroking. Slow, deliberate, never breaking eye contact.

“Didn’t say you had to leave,” he says, voice low and playful. “Kinda like the way you look when you’re speechless.”

He leans back a little further, giving you a full view, letting out a soft groan like he’s performing just for you.

If you stay frozen, he tilts his head: “Come on, sweetheart. You already caught me, might as well enjoy the show.”

---

Merrick

You open Merrick’s door to ask a question and freeze.

He’s lounging in bed, completely naked, cock in hand, chest heaving.

But he doesn’t even look surprised to see you.

“There you are,” he grins, voice deep and warm, “get in here.”

Doesn’t ask. Doesn’t beg. Just opens his arms.

“C’mere, sweetheart. Help me out.”

You stammer, but you’re already moving, because that voice, that confidence, it drags you under like a riptide.

He always wanted you to walk in on him.

Now that you have? He’s not wasting the opportunity.

---

Logan Walker

Poor Logan. Sweet, broody Logan.

He’s under the blanket, flushed, breathing heavy, hips twitching just a little.

You catch the shape of his cock tenting the sheets, huge. Leaking.

His hand freezes the second he notices you.

“Shit…! I didn’t…fuck-” he tries to cover himself, but the bulge only gets more obvious.

His face is crimson. He can’t meet your eyes.

You, on the other hand, can’t look away. Something about his helplessness makes your thighs press together.

You shut the door behind you and crawl onto the bed.

“Let me help you,” you whisper, pulling the blanket down.

Logan gasps as you wrap your lips around his cock, his head falling back in disbelief, soft moans escaping before he can stop them.

---

David “Hesh” Walker

You walk in on Hesh mid-moan, hips snapping up, jerking into his fist like he’s fucking it, panting and sweating.

“Fuck…your pussy…your tight fuckin’ ~oh fuck…”

His eyes open as you step in, and he doesn’t stop.

“Please! fuck, just show me somethin’. Anything,” he begs, voice cracking.

“Lift your shirt! Take off your pants! please, fuck, I’m so close! been thinkin’ about you all week”

He’s desperate. A wreck.

You don’t even get the chance to leave. He’s begging.

And if you give in? If you show him just a sliver of skin?

He loses it, gasping, crying out your name like it’s a prayer. Pathetic little pup he is.