#warfare x reader

The night before Sam shipped out, he spent it in bed with you, holding you close. You couldn’t let go of him, scared it would be the last time you ever held him. He held you just as tightly, his hand stroking through your hair, rubbing your back, breathing in the smell of your soap and shampoo and committing it to memory.

As you drifted off to sleep, head rested on Sam’s shirtless chest, he lay awake. Thinking. He wanted to savor every moment he had with you, even if it meant he slept the whole flight tomorrow. His hand drifted down to press against your stomach, still as it always was. You were days from the positive pregnancy test, barely 6 weeks. Still so new, still made Sam’s heart beat wildly in his chest when he thought too hard about it. Especially when he thought about how he wouldn’t be there for the birth, or even the beginning of their life.

He knew that, god willing, he’d be coming home to a son or daughter, already a year old. A child who would be too young to understand, who he would be a stranger to. That scared the shit out of him, even more than going overseas. He didn’t know the first thing about being a father. His own father was fine, a little strict, but being a father himself was something else entirely. There was no preparing for it, and he would be thrown right into it when he returned.

You still hadn’t told anyone yet. When you came running to Sam, tears in your eyes and a positive pregnancy test in your hand, Tommy and Erik had been the first people Sam wanted to call. He was ecstatic, although terrified, and wanted to share the news with his brothers right away. But you stopped him, a huge smile on your face and your hand on his chest.

“Not yet,” you’d said, feeling his heartbeat thudding beneath your palm. “Let’s keep this our little secret just a little bit longer.”

It had been hard for Sam to keep his mouth shut, but he enjoyed having that private thing to share between you. When you were around the guys, he felt so giddy, like it could spill out at any moment. When you’d decline a beer, you’d meet eyes for only a moment, a huge smile on Sam’s face.

But now it was time to leave, and the reality was setting in. His stomach was in knots. He’d never been so nervous to ship off, not even his first time. He didn’t want to miss any of this. He wanted to see your belly grow, to go to doctors appointments, to hold your hand when your baby was born. He wouldn’t get any of that. He had always been sad to leave you for tours, but this was worse. Now he was leaving two people he loved more than anything.

He couldn’t remember when he finally fell asleep. But the next thing he knew, his alarm was going off, and he startled awake. The sun had barely risen, the sky barely turning blue through the bedroom window. You were still tangled up around him, sleeping soundly. He carefully, reluctantly, untangled your limbs from around his own and lifted himself from the bed, the springs creaking slightly. He turned back in time to see you snuggling into his pillow, holding it much like you’d held him.

He dressed in his uniform, grabbing his bag that had already been packed. He slung the heavy pack over his shoulders, looking back at you sleeping peacefully in your shared bed. He walked over, smoothing his hand over your hair. You stirred slightly but remained asleep. He bent down and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

Your eyes fluttered open, barely awake. “Leaving?” you asked, your voice still weak with sleep.

Sam nodded. “Yeah, baby. I’ve gotta go.”

You frowned, sitting up in the bed and wiping at your eyes. “Okay,” you croaked. You placed your hands on either side of his face, pulling him in for a long, passionate kiss. He returned it, the kiss stirring something in his chest that he had to push away for now. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he said. “So much.” He rubbed a hand over your abdomen. “Both of you. Take care of yourselves. I’ll write you every week.”

“I know you will.” You kissed him again, shorter this time. “Bye, Sammy.”

He grinned at the nickname. “Bye, sweetheart.”

You laid back down, falling back into your slumber quickly. Sam stood, walking towards the bedroom door. He stopped by the dresser. He looked down at his hands, smoothing his thumb over his gold wedding band. Then he reluctantly slipped it off his finger, laying it gently on the table next to your jewelry. He knew it would be waiting right there for him when he got back.

He took one last look at you, wanting nothing more than to crawl back into bed and kiss you breathless. But instead he opened the door, heading out into the rest of the house before slipping out the front door and locking it behind him, leaving you alone.

You wrote to Sam every week. Every letter included a whole breakdown from your pregnancy books, the fruit size comparison and a breakdown of how you’d been feeling, what the doctor had said, ultrasound photos and bump pictures you took in the mirror. Sometimes a private photo just for Sam’s eyes, ones he’d hide in his belongings and pull out only when he was alone. It was what kept him going.

Waiting to go home to you felt like a lifetime, although he kept busy with OP1. He felt a lump in his throat every time he pulled out a photo to see you having grown bigger. He felt like he was missing the most important event of his life.

He was sitting in the barracks, laughing with Erik, Tommy, and Elliott, when the mail was brought in for the week. He sat up straighter, eyeing the bag of mail as it was distributed, impatiently waiting his turn.

“Excited to hear from your girl, O’Brien?” Elliott teased, sly grin on his face. “Let me know if she sent any good photos this time.”

Sam shoved his friend hard in the shoulder, but they both laughed. He knew those photos were for his eyes only, anyway, although the guys liked to tease him about his hot wife back home. He knew his wife was hot, but still.

When Sam was handed his mail, he found the one with your name on it and immediately tore into it. He pulled out the letter and watched as a couple photos fell out, landing facedown on the table. He would look at those after.

He immediately began reading the letter, his heart thudding faster when he saw the “20 weeks” scribbled at the top in your handwriting. He knew what that meant. You had been talking about how excited you were for this appointment in your letters for weeks. This was it.

He read your letter, talking about how things had been on the base with the other wives, how you’d been feeling, what you’d been up to. Baby the size of a mango. How your mom had come for a visit and drove you crazy for a week. He loved hearing all the mundane things happening back home, but his heart was thudding in anticipation for the news he was waiting for.

The letter ended with your usual - Hope you enjoy the pictures! All my love. - and your name signed in swirling script. His gaze dropped down to the photos. One was very clearly an ultrasound photo - he was familiar with them by now. He reached for the other first.

One of you in the mirror like you sent every week. You had really popped, he thought as his eyes widened. Your belly was perfectly rounded, your hand resting at the bottom as you posed for the photo in the mirror that hung on the back of your closet door. You had a bright smile on your face. You looked beautiful.

His eyes dropped down to the upside down ultrasound photo. He reached for it slowly, as if he were scared. He lifted it with a shaking hand, then finally, finally turned it over.

He had yet to see an ultrasound where the baby looked so much like a baby. It nearly took his breath away - and that was before he noticed the writing typed onto the photo.

It’s a girl!

“Holy fuck,” Sam muttered, in total disbelief. “Holy shit!”

“What?” Erik asked, looking over at Sam’s shocked yet elated expression.

Sam looked up, seeing the whole room of his brothers looking at him. “It’s a girl,” he said. “It’s a girl!”

The whole room erupted into cheers, patting him on the back and congratulating him, pushing him around playfully and making comments about how he’d have his work cut out for him as he smiled bigger than he had since he’d left home. He couldn’t believe it. He was having a daughter.

As your pregnancy progressed towards the end, Sam grew weary. He missed you. Seeing the photos you sent made him long for you like he never had before. He wanted to take care of you - something about seeing you pregnant made him extra protective, and here he was, overseas and only able to communicate with you through letters. He longed to feel the baby kick, to help you set up the nursery, to tell you to go sit down and rest while he took care of things.

As you reached the last couple weeks, his anxiety was at an all time high. He was on a mission from weeks 35-38, and every day he worried the baby would come and he wouldn’t know. So when they returned to the base and he caught up on your letters, seeing the babe was still safely growing, he felt immense relief.

It was a week after they had returned when he got a letter that was thicker than usual. His chest tightened - he knew before he even opened it. He stared at the unopened letter, frozen and face pale.

“What’s wrong, man?” Erik had asked, but then he looked at the letter the other man’s eyes were locked onto. His eyebrows raised. “Is that-?”

“I think so,” Sam muttered.

“Well, open it!” Elliott said, the guys all crowding around, waiting to see.

With the courage of his brothers surrounding him, he ripped open the letter. He pulled out the letter itself and a large stack of photos - the one on top featuring the most beautiful baby he had ever seen.

A birth announcement. A newborn baby girl laid wrapped in a blanket, her eyes closed, a head full of brown hair. She had your nose and lips, Sam’s hair and eye shape. He swore his heart stopped beating. At the bottom - Olivia Claire O’Brien. The name you had decided on after a long back and forth in letters, the name that somehow fit her so well.

Sam stared at the photo in shock, barely able to hear the cheers and commotion around him. He couldn’t believe it. He had a daughter waiting for him back home now - a real, living, breathing daughter. His daughter.

“She’s beautiful, man,” Tommy said, flashing a genuine smile as he clapped Sam on the shoulder. Sam somehow pulled himself together, muttering a bashful thank you to his brothers.

“Congrats dude,” Elliott contributed, rubbing the top of Sam’s bald head.

“You’re gonna be a great dad,” Erik said, and that made him feel better than anything he’d ever heard. Now, he just had to get through the rest of this tour so he could get home to his girls.

It was supposed to be a standard surveillance mission.

Things had never gone so horribly wrong.

Elliott had gotten hit by shrapnel from a grenade, and he needed a CASEVAC. They were supposed to just escort him out to the tank then get back into the house - but an IED had gone off.

Sam had woken up disoriented, his head pounding, ears ringing. He didn’t know what the fuck had happened. Then, the pain crept in. He looked down and saw his right leg twisted the wrong direction, small fires burning his pants and skin.

“Oh my god,” he said, his voice trembling. “Oh my god, fuck! Fuck! Oh my god!”

He didn’t know what the fuck had happened but the next thing he knew Erik was stumbling over, patting his leg to put out the flames. “Ow, ow, ow,” he said, still coming back to himself, nausea and fear roiling in his stomach.

He looked over to his left, seeing a body completely blown in half. Panic rose in his chest, suddenly finding it hard to breathe.

Erik began dragging Sam back into the house - and that’s when the pain became the worst thing he could possibly imagine. He screamed, a loud, guttural scream of terror and pain and pure misery. He felt like his leg was still on fire, like it was going to rip right off.

Erik pulled him into the house, laying him on the ground. Sam was relieved to not be moving anymore, but once the pain had kicked in, it didn’t stop. He groaned loudly, moaning in pain, desperate for some kind of relief. He barely noticed Ray and Tommy pulling an unconscious Elliott into the house behind him.

“Two rooms deep!” somebody yelled, and then he was being dragged again, screaming. When he stopped moving he unbuckled his helmet and pulled it off, tossing it to the side. He felt like he couldn’t breathe.

Ray began checking him over. They rolled Sam onto his side as he gritted his teeth, still moaning in pain. It felt better being back on his back, but not by much. Ray grabbed a pack of gauze and stuffed it into the wound in Sam’s leg, and again - he screamed. It was like nothing he’d ever experienced in his life. He thought he was going to be sick.

Sam heard Ray speaking into the radio. “We have two severely wounded. We need another CASEVAC as soon as possible. Be advised an IED caused the injuries, over.”

Even more panic rose in Sam’s body. He wasn’t sure he heard Ray right, until he related it into the radio again “We have two severely wounded. We need another CASEVAC.”

“Who’s the severely wounded?” Sam asked, grabbing onto Ray’s arm. “Is it me?”

“No, it’s not you,” Ray lied, trying to calm his friend. “It’s not you.”

“Then who is it??” Sam asked, getting more worked up by the minute. “Who is it?? Who the fuck is it? Who is it?”

“You’re okay, calm down,” Ray said. “You just think about that beautiful baby girl, okay? And that hot wife of yours, remember? They’re waiting for you. They need you, okay? You’re gonna get home to them, okay?”

Sam took in his words, his mind flipping through images of you, of his daughter. “Okay,” he said, calming the slightest bit. “O-okay.”

Ray reached into the front pocket of Sam’s uniform. His brothers knew what he kept there. He pulled out the photo of you holding Olivia, and pressed it into Sam’s shaking, bloody hand. “You’re going to see them soon, okay? You focus on them. That’s what fucking matters.”

Sam nodded, taking the photo and holding it where he could see it. He had smeared blood onto it, dust now coated it and made it slightly harder to see, but it was you. It was you and it was Livvy and that’s what he focused on, trying to push the pain out of his mind with thoughts of coming home to you both.

You sat in Sam’s recliner in the living room, rocking a sleeping Olivia in your arms. She was 6 weeks old now and had been fussier than usual. It was hard to take care of her without any help, but you loved it. You loved her. And you knew Sam would, too. Hell, he hadn’t even met her yet and he was already obsessed with her.

You rocked gently as you watched TV with the volume on low. You were barely paying any attention, your eyes heavy. You’d been running on little sleep. Erik’s wife and your best friend, Viv, had been by nearly every day to help. She loved the baby time and you loved the cherished rest it afforded you.

The large framed wedding photo on the wall caught your eye. It had been the happiest day of your life - tied with the day Livvy had been born. Sam wore his dress uniform, looking handsome as ever. You wore a gorgeous white dress with long lace sleeves. In the photo you clutched onto his arm, a smile taking over your entire face. Sam looked equally elated. Surrounding the large portrait were smaller photos, the both of you with your families and your wedding party.

The sound of the phone ringing brought you out of your reminiscing. You grabbed it quickly, hitting the answer button before it had time to wake Olivia. She stirred, but remained asleep.

“Hello?” you answered, keeping your voice quiet.

“Mrs. O’Brien?”

You froze. Panic crept beneath your skin. “Yes?”

The man over the line introduced himself. “I’m a Casualty Assistance Calls Officer.”

Your blood ran cold. Casualty? Oh god. Oh god. You felt as if you might be sick. You tucked the phone between your ear and shoulder and stood, walking to the other side of the room and laying Olivia in a bassinet. “Is- is Sam-“

“Petty Officer O’Brien was injured in combat,” the man said. That’s when your knees gave out, your body dropping back down into the chair. “He was involved in an IED explosion. He sustained serious injuries to both legs. He’s currently receiving treatment on base, but will be shipping home in the next few weeks.”

Sam was hurt. But he was alive, you thought as relief rushed through you. He was alive and he was coming home. But how would this change his life?

The officer gave you little more information, but promised to be in touch with updates regularly. You asked if you could speak with him, but were told he was heavily medicated for the time being. When you hung up the phone, you felt as if your entire world had been tipped on its axis. Everything felt shifted, like nothing would be the same.

You wanted nothing more than to run to him, to be by his side. But you were helpless to do anything but sit and wait.

Sam was out of it for a while. He had life saving surgeries overseas before he was finally sent back home to continue care and rest in his own bed, his own house, with his family.

His family.

All he could think about on the flight home was seeing you again, and meeting Livvy. If he was honest with himself, he was terrified. Being a dad was a new kind of challenge, one he didn’t know if he was prepared for. What if he fucked it up? What if he couldn’t be a good dad because of his injuries? What if he couldn’t run and play with his daughter?

His legs ached as he sat through the hours long flight. He took some of his pain medication, which helped a bit and allowed him to get a little sleep. He rested his head against the window, watching the clouds pass by until the pain waned and he drifted off.

The plane touching down woke him from his slumber, jolting him awake. He looked around, recognizing the base. He was back home in Coronado. He felt a weight off his chest.

That anxiety came back when he was helped off the plane and into his wheelchair. He hated it. He always hated feeling weak, and now he physically was. He knew it wasn’t his fault, and the doctors promised he would regain the ability to walk eventually. It was just going to be a long journey.

He was pushed away from the plane and through the base, his stomach churning. This was it. He fidgeted with the material of his pants as he looked everywhere for you.

Then - there you were.

You spotted each other at the same time. Erik’s wife, Viv, stood next to you, and in your arms was the most beautiful little girl he’d ever seen. You held her at your side, your hand against her back for support. You handed her to Viv and then you were running.

As you got closer, Sam could see the massive smile on your face, the tears brimming in your eyes. He reached out for you, a matching smile on his own lips. You pulled him into an embrace as you reached him and he held you back just as tightly, laughing in relief that he was home, he was here, he was holding you.

You pulled back slightly before pressing your lips to his. God, it had been over a year since he’d kissed anyone, over a year since he’d even seen a pretty girl in person. He wanted so badly to pull you onto his lap and kiss you deeper.

You pulled back and held your hands on either side of his face, as if you weren’t convinced he was real. He felt the same way about you, his hands gripping onto your waist. You looked even more beautiful than when he’d left, if that was possible. There was a kind of motherly glow about you that made his heart beat wildly.

“You’re here,” you said, still smiling as a few tears escaped, and he laughed.

“I’m here, baby,” he said. He pulled you down for another quick kiss, and then his eyes were drawn behind you.

You turned to see Viv holding a fussing Olivia, then faced Sam again. “Want to meet your daughter?”

His mouth went dry - but yes, he wanted that more than anything. You stepped behind his wheelchair and pushed him over. As he got closer, he could see the little girl better. She looked like the perfect mix between the two of you. She was perfect.

“Hey, Sammy,” Viv greeted with a smile as you stopped his chair. Sam greeted her back, but he was barely paying attention. You were taking Livvy from her arms, and then you were gently setting the baby in Sam’s arms.

“Livvy,” you cooed to the baby. “This is your daddy.”

Olivia looked at him curiously. Seeing her so close, being able to hold her and touch her, took Sam’s breath away. “Hi, baby girl,” he said, his voice choked with emotion. He rubbed his thumb over the soft skin of her chubby cheek, then pulled her close and placed a kiss to the top of her head.

Livvy smiled at him, reaching for his nose. Sam laughed, pure joy coursing through his veins. He pulled her in for a hug, and she laid her head on his shoulder. He rubbed her back as she was content to just be held by her dad. Viv snapped pictures in the background, but he hardly noticed.

He had his family back.

—

Sam spent the day playing with Livvy as well as he could. She adored him already, clinging to him and laughing so hard every time he’d make a funny face or play peekaboo. Sam was overjoyed. He had never felt so content.

That night, you rocked Livvy to sleep in the recliner while Sam watched, a warm smile on his face. When she was out, you carried her gently to the nursery and laid her down. She didn’t wake, just rolled onto her side and settled.

You walked out into the living room. Sam sat on the couch, his wheelchair against the wall. The TV played some cable movie with the volume on low, but he wasn’t paying much attention.

He was watching you. You walked over with a playful smile, your little sleep shorts hanging low on your hips. Sam licked his lips - god, it had been so long since he’d seen you in person, so long since he’d been able to touch your body. He reached for you and you went to him.

His hands found purchase on your hips, thumbs rubbing the exposed skin between your shorts and shirt. His breath caught in his throat. All the blood in his body rushed down south, like he was a teenager and this was his first time touching a girl.

“Want you so bad,” he mumbled. He pulled you closer, and you leaned down and kissed him.

“I wanna take care of you,” you whispered. “Can I?”

Could you? Hell fucking yes.

Sam nodded, nipping at your bottom lip one more time before he watched you sink down to your knees in front of him. His cock was filling out his sweatpants, so eager for you to touch him he could hardly stand it.

You eyed the outline of his cock through his grey sweats, mouth watering, core aching as you thought about having him inside you again. It had been so long.

You reached for his waistband and gently pulled them down. His already hard cock sprung free, tip red and leaking in anticipation. “Baby…” he muttered, his pupils blown as he watched you between his legs.

You could see the scars on his thighs, making your heart ache, but you turned your attention back to where he needed you most. He threaded his fingers through your hair as you wrapped a hand around his shaft, making him hiss.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his cock throbbing in your grip.

You moved forward and wrapped your lips around his tip, tongue teasing over his slit. He groaned, head dropping back against the back of the couch.

“Fuck, baby,” he moaned. “It’s been too fuckin’ long. Need you so bad…need your mouth.”

You couldn’t resist his pleads. You took more of him into your mouth, tongue tracing the vein on the underside as you took him down your throat. Sam’s grip tightened in your hair, another low groan spilling from his lips. You set a slow pace, letting him savor the feeling of your mouth.

“Fuck, fuck yeah,” he breathed. His free hand grabbed onto the couch cushion. “So good, baby. Feels so good.”

You hummed around his dick, which drove him crazy. He was panting above you, barely able to hold on. He’d been dreaming of this, especially when you’d send those photos that were for his eyes only. If only he could see more of you.

He watched the way your lips wrapped around his girth, the way you’d look up at him through your long eyelashes, looking so innocent despite what you were doing to him. He bucked his hips up as much as he could without hurting himself, wishing he could fuck your face like you sometimes let him do. Fuck, he loved that.

You gently cupped his balls, massaging them in your hand as his cock twitched in your mouth. He was breathing heavier now, his legs starting to shake. His hold on you was a little rougher, his moans a little more desperate. You knew he was close.

“G’na cum,” he groaned. “I’m so close.”

You lifted off of him, working his shaft with your hand instead. “Where do you wanna cum, baby?”

“On your face and tits,” he answered quickly, his voice strained. “Please. Please.”

You stopped long enough to pull your sleep shirt over your head, revealing your bare tits to him, the cold air making your nipples harden in the dim light of the living room. His cock twitched again and then he was moaning as you wrapped your mouth around him once more.

You sucked him off, taking him all the way to the back of your throat. He was losing his mind above you. When he started throbbing against your tongue, his moans getting a little higher, thighs and hands trembling, you knew he was right there. You pulled off of him once more, jerking him off quickly while you looked up at him.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh god, oh fuck,” he moaned. “Gonna…oh shit-“

He let out a choked moan as he came, his cum spurting onto your face and chest, covering you in his spend. He watched with wide eyes, thinking he had never seen anything hotter in his life. You looked perfect like this.

When he had finished, he sat there breathing heavily while you cleaned yourself up with some tissues. You smiled at him playfully - and he beckoned you over. He tucked himself back in his sweats and pulled you down to sit next to him, cuddled against his chest.

“I fucking love you,” he said, before leaning in and kissing you hard. You returned it, hand resting on his strong chest.

“I love you too,” you said, and god, did you.

—

Recovery was slow. Sam was still in a lot of pain. He had multiple more surgeries to go through, and a rigorous physical therapy schedule. But he was determined to keep his legs, and determined to regain the ability to walk. He felt useless as he was. He knew he would never be active duty again, but he wanted to do something.

The only bright spots in his life were you and Olivia. He loved playing with his daughter. She loved sitting on his lap, watching Sesame Street with her dad. He’d watch kids shows all day long if it meant he got to spend time with her.

It took Livvy no time at all to warm up to Sam. She adored him. It’s like she knew the second he held her that that was her dad. “Dada” was her first word, and any time anyone else held her, she reached for him. She hardly ever took her eyes off him.

Sam still had bad days. Some days the pain was significantly worse than others. Some days his mental state was what he struggled with.

This was one of those days where he struggled with both. He had been feeling down, although he wouldn’t admit it, it was obvious to you. You wanted to do something to make him feel better.

You left Sam in bed taking a nap after his physical therapy. You had called Viv and asked if she wanted to watch Livvy for the night - she said yes, of course, and was excited for a sleepover with her and Erik’s goddaughter. Viv came by during Sam’s nap and picked her up. You gave your daughter a million kisses before you allowed her to go, but you knew she would be safe.

When Sam awoke, it was already 7pm. He called for you, still unable to do much on his own. You walked into the room to find him there, still looking as if he hated himself.

“Do you need some help?” you asked him softly, brushing your hand over his hair that was slowly growing out.

“Bathroom,” he mumbled, not meeting your eyes.

You grabbed his crutches from against the wall and helped him stand. Once he was situated on them he was able to hobble into the bathroom while you waited for him. When he was done, you helped him lay back down.

You crawled into bed next to him, cuddling up to his side. He wrapped his arm around you, holding you close. “Where’s Livvy?”

“Sleepover with Auntie Viv,” you said. “Just us tonight.”

Sam smirked down at you. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” you giggled. “What, you have something you want to do?”

“Maybe,” he teased. He shifted so he could face you better, then he tilted your head up, leaning down to kiss your soft lips.

His tongue traced your bottom lip and you happily let him in, your own meeting his as he pressed his body into yours. His hand rested on your waist and he pulled you closer, bringing you onto his lap.

“Are you sure?” you asked, gently straddling him. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re not gonna hurt me,” Sam mumbled, kissing down your neck and nipping at the spot that always made you gasp. Your hands tightened on his broad shoulders. “I want this. I need it.”

You and Sam still hadn’t had sex since he’d been home. You were scared he was still in too much pain - and for a while, he was. But now he was healing, and he wanted more than anything to be inside of you.

You reached down between you and lowered his sweatpants, large cock springing free, already hard and needy. It throbbed between you, so desperate to get in your pussy he could hardly stand it. You lifted yourself up and pushed your shorts and panties down, Sam helping.

He grabbed the base of his cock and dragged it through your folds, already soaking wet just from the thought of fucking him again. He lined himself up at your entrance then gripped onto your waist as you held onto his shoulders and lowered yourself down onto him.

You did it slowly, both so you could adjust and so you could watch Sam’s face for any sign of pain. You saw none - in fact, his face contorted in pleasure, his head falling back against the headboard.

“Christ,” he groaned. “Just as fuckin’ tight as I remembered.”

You whined as his girth stretched you - it felt like your first time again. His hands were trembling where they held you. His eyes went wide when you landed flush against him, finally buried completely in your tight heat. 

You slowly, experimentally, rocked your hips against him. “Is this okay?”

“Oh yeah,” he grunted, using his hands to guide your hips a little faster. 

You were nervous, but you knew he’d let you know if something didn’t feel good. You let yourself bring your hips down against him harder, the curls at his base rubbing against your clit just right.

“Sammy,” you moaned, starting to carefully bounce on him. He kept his guiding hands on you, encouraging you to go a little harder, a little faster.

“You feel so good, baby,” he said, his voice low and laced with desire. “I needed this so fuckin’ bad. You have no idea.”

You thought you did have an idea, because you felt the same way. You were keening, head thrown back as you bounced on him, the curve of his cock pressing perfectly against that bundle of nerves at your front walls.

He began thrusting up into you, grunting with every movement of his hips. The bed frame creaked with your movements - it hadn’t seen any action in a good while. Sam ran his hands up your front to pull your shirt off then grab at your tits, his thumbs rubbing against your hardened nipples. In this position they were bouncing right in his face, just like he liked them.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said. “I’ve never seen anyone as beautiful as you in my whole fucking life.”

You smiled, looking down at him. “You sure you’re not just saying that because I’m riding you right now?” you asked him, breathless.

“Doesn’t hurt,” he teased.

You grinned, bouncing a little faster. He hissed, fingers tightening on your waist. You stopped immediately. “Are you okay?”

“Just hurt a little,” he said, though you could tell he was downplaying it. “Don’t stop though. Maybe just a little slower.”

Hesitantly, you rocked your hips again, watching him carefully. When he seemed alright, you worked back into a steady rhythm. He was letting out quiet little moans, leaning forward to wrap his lips around your nipple and pull your body against his.

“Sammy,” you moaned. “I’m so close.”

“Cum for me,” he begged. “Please. Need to feel you squeezin’ around me. I want you to cum on my cock, baby, please.”

It only took a few more rolls of your hips before you were crying out, your head falling forward onto his shoulder as you rocked against him, pussy clenching around him and pushing him over the edge. He wrapped his arms around your waist and held you flush against him, groaning your name as he thrusted up with every release, filling you the way he liked.

You just held each other like that, breathing heavily. A sheen of sweat covered your skin. Sam kissed your shoulder affectionately. “I love you. More than anything.”

“I love you too, Sammy.” You kissed his lips one more time before carefully sliding off his lap. You cuddled up against him under the covers.

Things were different now. But you were happy.

part 2 soon

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Lying still hurt. The thought of getting up hurt more. But Sam did it anyway, careful of your arm slung over his belly. Careful not to wake you. Not wanting to bring you into his ceaseless pattern of insomnia since being shipped back.

At least there was a chance of being productive with this limbo. Stuck between sleep and true wakefulness, lost in thoughts he’d rather not revisit. They lingered in the corners of the rooms like ghosts.

The sun, almost like the moon, hanging ominously. Power lines twisted and tangled, far too much slack. The mincemeat of–

No. Skip that.

Tap, tap, tap. 

Every internal sound was shockingly loud, uncomfortably so. Everything else, inaudible. Like being submerged. 

He knew his brain had been kind, in a way. Holding back the tsunami of pain that was about to come his way until he was aware enough to receive it. He should have passed out. He wished he had passed out. But he hadn’t. 

And now everything else just hurt… less. Stubbing a toe? Negligible. Slicing open a finger while attempting to dice an onion with his leg shaking? Just a papercut–

Brock. 

He should call him. Check in.

Not at this hour.

Sam moved slowly, taking cautious steps up and down the hall. It was just narrow enough for him to reach out and have his fingertips slightly touching the white walls. He was careful to avoid the picture frames as he went, attempting to stay balanced. As he turned on his heel, he froze, a twinge of pain shooting up his spine.

Breathe. 

Each moment he spent on his bad leg caused it to tremble, a wave of tension and sweat washing down over his shoulders and back. Nausea just on the fringes of his awareness.

He knew he was pushing past reasonable limits. He should have stopped a while ago. But all he could think of was that concerned look you’d get in your eyes anytime he tried to move. 

He wasn’t helpless. He was a frogman. Frogman Sam. This was nothing. Just something to get himself over. 

Like lying in the surf, sun gone down. Skin so cold it was numb, couldn’t feel the brothers he was linked up with. Waiting for that next wave. 

Do you breathe now? Or will that breath be full of saltwater? What about now? 

It’s cold. Too cold. Ice. Shivering, shaking. Core temperature dropping with each passing minute. Sand everywhere, rubbing like high grit against his skin with each passing wave.

He leaned heavily against the wall, nudging a frame nearly off its nail. It swung, coming back to ghost along his cheek. He was on his bad side, the very idea of pushing off with that leg feeling impossible. He would have to fall. There was no way he was pushing himself back up.

This was it, seafoam filling his mouth, the salt bitter and overwhelming. He would drown here. Just couldn’t cut it. That’s what they’d say. Any moment, the instructor would drag him out. 

Culled.

Somewhere down the line, someone started singing. Sam could hardly hear it, his ears below the waterline. He sputtered and strained to lift his neck up just enough. And soon others started to join in, occasionally cut off as another wave broke overtop of them. But then there was a chorus. And Erik squeezed his arm with his own—

“Sam?” 

Your voice was full of sleep. He felt shame for how grateful he was that you’d woken up. 

“What are you doing? You could’ve asked me to help you, you know.”

He didn’t want to wake you, couldn’t bear to. He didn’t want you to know about this. 

“I know.”

And then your hands are on him, helping to support some of his weight. He’s put back on equal footing, able to use you like a crutch to get back to bed. 

You lean over him, eyes studying him, full of questions you won’t ask. 

“Did you need something?”

“What?” he mumbled, eyes falling shut as his thigh was freed of his weight.

“From the kitchen?”

“Nothing,” he sighed, brows furrowing.

“Are you sure?”

“Just,” he paused, breathing deeply before opening his eyes. “Can you just come back to bed?”

Your soft smile soothed the ache in his brain. There was a gentle touch to his cheek that quickly disappeared. The bed dipped, the covers lifted, and a hand made its way onto his chest. 

“You were at it for a lot longer tonight.”

He looked over at you, frowning. You weren’t supposed to know. Had he done that bad of a job hiding it? “What?”

You turned to look up at him, hand sliding up to rest at the side of his neck. “You really think I don’t notice you getting up every night?”

Heat fills his face. He should be angry, should be asking why you never said anything. But he doesn’t. Because he already knows why. 

To preserve what’s left of his ego, his confidence in himself. Because you know him.

You love him.

“It’s okay, you know. If you need to work through it.”

It was a quiet, calm reassurance. One that under normal circumstances he would’ve fought. But not tonight.

“I know, baby.” He pulled you into his chest, pressing his lips to the top of your head, letting his eyes close. “I didn’t know, I’ve been keeping you up all night, I’m sorry–”

“Sam, don’t.”

“That was the last thing I wanted–”

“Hey,” you interrupted, sitting up, leaning down over him. 

He stopped speaking as your hand pressed to his cheek, his distress arrested in his throat as he looked up into your eyes.

“If it bothered me, I would have said something.”

You raised your eyebrows as his mouth opened, a clear retort ready to be released. After a second or two, he closed it.

“I just don’t want you to be tired, like I am.” 

You scoffed. “It’s part of the deal. Isn’t that what you told me? When you tried to warn me off you?”

He sighed.

His memory of anything related to you was so vivid, it was impossible not to have the image of you filling his mind, all dressed up and cute for him, looking up at him with concern in your eyes.

The noise of cars passing, tires treading through rainwater puddles working hard to drown out the conversation. A gentle breeze whipping your hair into your face.

“You need to know what you’re getting yourself into. I’m a difficult bastard. I’m away all the time. And when I come back, it takes adjusting. I really don’t want to put you through all that. My job and me? We’re a package deal. I need you to truly understand what you’re asking for.”

He wasn’t sure why he was fighting this so hard. 

Maybe he didn’t want to risk you walking out on him when he’d gotten too comfortable having you around. Or when he might need you most.

“You’re not gonna scare me off that easily, Sam.”

Your smile soothed his anxieties, effortlessly.

And it was the same smile you wore now.

Understanding.

“Get some rest, Sam. We can talk in the morning, if you feel like it.”

You settled in beside him without waiting for an answer. He didn’t think he needed to provide it. 

Minutes passed. A comfortable silence settled in. He paid attention to the way your fingers curled around his side, along his ribs. 

Erik: You recently told Erik that you got the job position that you always wanted. He was beyond happy for you. He knew how much you wanted the job position, so you getting it meant so much to him. Since you got the job position, Erik wanted to celebrate. So, you and him went out for ice cream.

“I still can’t believe that I got the job position. I feel like I'm dreaming, and I didn't get it, but I did,” you said excitedly after you took a bite of your ice cream.

“I'm so proud of you, baby. You deserve it so much.”

You smiled at what Erik said. It made you so happy that your boyfriend was so proud of you. He has been your number one supporter through everything.

“Thank you, baby. That means a lot to me.”

You and Erik continued eating the ice cream that you two got and just enjoyed each other’s company and talked about whatever came across your guy's minds, and more about your job position and when you officially start the job. The two of you couldn’t ask for a better moment than this.

Tommy: Tommy got done with some training late. It wasn’t supposed to happen, but it did. And he felt bad about it since he promised that he would be home around six. But now, it’s a little past nine, and he’s finally heading back home to you. He knew that you were gonna be upset about him coming home sorta late, so he thought that he would stop by the store to buy some ice cream to make it up to you.

Tommy bought your favorite flavor of ice cream and exited the store and headed back to his car.

When Tommy arrived back at your shared apartment, he was hoping that you were still awake. He didn't want you to go to bed upset since he got home later than he expected. Luckily though, when he walked into the apartment, he saw that you were fully awake, and you were loading the dishwasher with dirty dishes.

“Here let me finish it up,” Tommy said as he came up behind you.

You just decided to give in and have Tommy finish up the rest.

“I'm sorry that the training exercise went longer than I expected,” Tommy said as he bent over to put a dirty plate into the dishwasher. “Also I know that you’re probably upset about that since I promised I would be home around six, so I bought your favorite ice cream on the way home from work,” he said as he stood back upright. “I hope that makes you feel a little bit better about the situation.”

You couldn’t really stay upset at Tommy. It wasn't his fault that he had to stay longer at base for work. Things happen. You nodded your head, “It does make me feel better. Plus, it’s not your fault that you had to stay longer for work,” you reassured him.

“Are you sure?” he asked as he closed the dishwasher after he put the last of the dirty dishes in. “Because I feel bad for breaking my promise to you.”

“Tommy,” you said as you placed both of your hands on each cheek of his. “Yes, I'm sure.”

He just nodded his head.

“So, about that ice cream you bought?” you signaled Tommy that you wanted some.

“I never thought you would have asked,” he smiled.

You and Tommy spent the rest of the night just eating ice cream and talking about how his training went. These are the moments that you and Tommy love the most. Ones that you’ll cherish forever.

Elliott: It was a simple understanding, that ended up in a small argument. Elliott didn’t mean it to happen, but sadly it did. The argument resulted in you getting upset, and Elliott beating himself over it. He never liked seeing you upset, so he thought he would make it up to you, by you two going out for ice cream.

“Am I still in the dog house with you or am I forgiven?” Elliott asked you as you two sat down at one of the tables that were outside of the ice cream shop.

You quietly laughed and looked down at your ice cream when you sat across from Elliott at the table. You looked back at him, “You are forgiven,” you said.

Elliott sighed in relief, “Good because I don't think I could have gone another minute without you talking to me.”

You thought what Elliott said was cute. If it was the other way around, you probably wouldn’t be able to go so long without talking to him. Granted, the small argument between you and Elliott, you are glad that he decided to make it up to you and apologize about it before you two went out to get ice cream.

Ray: You and Ray went out for dinner. You had dinner at a fancy steakhouse located in the downtown area of San Diego. The food was good and you two both enjoyed it. You two were both planning on going back to the restaurant eventually.

When you two exited the restaurant, you decided to walk down the streets of downtown. It wasn't too cold outside since it was early summer, so it was the perfect weather to walk.

While you two were walking, you saw an ice cream shop on the other side of the street.

“Let's go across the street and get ice cream,” you suggested to Ray.

“Okay,” he nodded his head.

You and Ray safely crossed the street. When you two stepped into the ice cream shop. There weren't so many people inside, which was surprising since it was a Saturday night, but that wasn’t a problem or anything like that.

You and Ray both were looking at all of the flavors. There were so many that you could choose from. You weren’t sure if you should go ahead and try a new flavor or get the same one that you always get when you go out for ice cream.

“Should I try a new flavor? Or just stick with what I usually get?” you asked Ray. You wanted his opinion since you couldn’t make up your mind.

“Try a new flavor,” he chose. “You can never go wrong with trying a new flavor.”

“What flavor should I get then?” you asked your boyfriend.

“You should try cake batter. I heard that it’s really good,” Ray suggested.

“Cake batter, it is.”

You ordered cake butter flavored while Ray decided to order strawberry cheesecake.

After Ray paid for yours and his ice cream. You two found a bench right outside of the ice cream shop, sat down, and enjoyed your ice cream and enjoyed being with each other. You couldn’t ask for a better way to end the night with your boyfriend.

Frank: “Let’s go out for ice cream,” you suggested. You two weren’t doing that much, besides just hanging around inside your shared apartment. Plus, you thought it would be a good thing to get out for a while. So, that’s what you and Frank did.

The ice cream shop was a very popular spot. It wasn’t too far from the base and from your shared apartment. Also, it’s a frequent space that you and Frank visit too.

“Did you get what you always get?” Frank asked you after he paid for yours and his ice cream.

“Of course I did. You can never go wrong with chocolate chip cookie dough,” you smiled. “What about you? Did you get what you usually get?”

“Nope,” Frank shook his head. “I decided to get coffee flavored instead.”

You furrowed your eyebrows slightly, “How can you eat coffee flavored ice cream? I love coffee, but I can't picture myself eating it.”

Frank just shrugged his shoulders, “You’re missing out.”

“No, I don't think so,” you shook your head. Afterward, you couldn’t help but laugh at what you said. You love to bully Frank (in a loving way though.)

“You’re so funny, you know that,” he said to you.

“I know, but you love me,” you teased.

“You’re right about that,” Frank said proudly.

You smiled at Frank's response. Frank was never afraid to show his feelings how he feels about you, and that’s one of the many reasons why you love him.

Sam: Sam didn’t mean it to happen. He didn’t mean to accidentally bump into you and knock your ice cream out of your hands. He wasn’t paying attention to where he was going, and he took full responsibility for that.

“Oh my gosh. I'm very sorry. I should have been paying attention,” Sam said as he was helping you clean up the ice cream mess.

“No, you’re fine. Please don’t worry about it. I can always go back in and buy another one. It’s no problem,” you reassured him.

“No, please. Let me buy it for you," Sam offered.

“Are you sure?” you asked him.

“Yes, I'm sure.”

So, that’s what Sam did. He went back into the ice cream for you and bought you another one.

“Here you go,” Sam said as he walked out of the ice cream shop and handed a new cone of ice cream to you.

“Is there any way that I can return the favor? So then we can be even,” you asked when you took the ice cream from Sam.

“Maybe I could get your number? So then we can go out and get dinner, "Sam suggested without any hesitation in his voice.

When Sam said that, you felt butterflies form in your stomach. You couldn't believe that he wanted your number so then you could plan on going out to dinner with each other.

“Of course,” you happily accepted.

You and Sam both exchanged numbers.

“I'll see you sometime soon,” Sam said as he put his phone back in his pocket.

“See you sometime soon,” you smiled.

You and Sam parted ways. As you did, you had a huge smile on your face. You still can’t believe that you got asked out on a dinner date. You have a feeling that it’s gonna turn out right. And you can't wait to see Sam again. The same goes for him, he can't wait to see you again.

“Oh, I like this outfit.” Stopping himself abruptly, Tommy drew his gaze up and down the body he so adored, leaning back like he was trying to frame a perfect shot. He went back in motion, putting down the tool on top of the table, and coming at you with hungry hands.

Backing away, you held up both palms like stop signs. The idea of being touched right now when you were sticky and hot was awful. 

“What's the verdict? Can you fix it?” There was hope in your voice that Tommy diminished with a swift shake of his head.

“Oh no. It's dead dead. We have to replace it.”

“When? How?” You did think it was dramatic to say that under no circumstance could you live like this. 

“I texted Frank before coming in. See if he knows a guy.” 

Tommy was closing the space between you both, sunlight pouring in through the kitchen window was soon hidden by his chest against yours as his fingers walked lightly up your back. You could feel that he was turned on and the mischievous smirk fixed under a little line of sweat suggested he was not at all deterred by the humidity. 

“Tommy, we got to go to the store for fans or a window AC, something. I can't do this.” Squirming away from his touch, you griped. Usually, you craved his hands on you, roaming around on a leisurely mission to find new sweet spots. Right now was not a good time. “Tommy, concentrate.” He was looking at you like he was tucked in a booth at Red Lobster and you were the first basket of Cheddar Bay biscuits on the table during Lobsterfest. 

“You're glistening in your underwear.” He pointed out, trying to look you in the eyes, but he barely made a second. Sweat coated the top of your breasts and he wanted to slide himself between them. “I am a man who is in love with you! What do you want from me?” He sensed your annoyed glare as he was not checking in with your face. 

“I'm going to put on a giant shirt and go to the store myself.” Reaching around him, the keys clanged together between your fingers. In a second, you decided on a window unit and a giant watermelon slurpee would be the shopping list. 

Sidestepping to stay in your way, Tommy rested one hand at your hip and took the keys from your right hand without any fight.

“I will drive.” His car and big box stores had working AC, you two could go enjoy together. “I could also take your mind off how uncomfortable you are first…” Dropping his gaze to your underwear, Tommy bit his bottom lip at the idea of pulling them down with his teeth and burying his tongue inside. He always said you had turned him into a voracious pussy-eater having not enjoyed it so much in the past. You had to admit that he had worked hard and upped his tongue flicking game. Generally, he didn't stop until you came against his plush lips. 

You didn't resist. The wheels were turning in your head that felt more like an oven at the moment. Tommy pulled his shirt overhead and dropped it beside him before he began to lower himself down to his knees. He heard your lips part, objection coming, and kept his hands and mouth to himself.

“If we are going to have sex right now, it's going to be in a cold shower.”

“A cold shower?” He was basically asking if you were crazy. “The place I go to not think about being inside you?” 

You sighed just as he groaned, stepping closer so his face was right at your bare stomach. He kissed it while you combed four fingers roughly through his hair. 

“Fine. You can go down on me, but the bedroom window has to be open.”

“Hey, I'm a good boy! I always follow the rules.” He held up two fingers, a scout's promise made in the clammy air, then jumped to his feet. 

Tommy threw you over his shoulders, delighting in the small squeak it prompted from your mouth, and took the stairs with the eagerness of a child before placing you on the unmade bed and crawling up. He almost forgot to open the window, distracted by the view of you on your back and waiting for him. Once a weak breeze had access to the bedroom, your body relaxed against the sheets. Tommy saw a smile slowly twitch under your nose as you shut your eyes and lifted up your arms, making your shimmering chest bounce and his erection ache under his jeans. He stood up off the bed and stripped down to his underwear, adjusting the band for his comfort before excusing himself with a finger raised. 

“I’m going to make you feel so good.” He promised in a deep whisper when he returned, taking you in for just a moment and helping himself to another mental snapshot. You had been trying to focus on what relief you could get that you hadn’t heard Tommy go up or down the stairs. He crawled between your legs and ran one hand up your stomach, an ice cube gliding over your skin and causing you to gasp. Instantly, your body lit up with goosebumps. He was grinning, so proud of himself, when your eyes shot open and found him adoring you. He moved the cube around one breast and then under the other before putting it in his mouth and getting off the bed. 

Tommy folded himself to his knees and yanked off your underwear without any hesitation, hovering his cold breath over your wet slit before licking at it. Shivering with pleasure, Tommy had to put his hands down on your thighs to keep them open and still. He held the cube against your clit and felt you fight the freeze against his grip. The ice cube was melting in his mouth quickly, but the icy memory stayed on his tongue as he lapped at you before sticking it deep inside, flicking rapidly - something he had taught himself and knew it brought you right to the edge of bliss. 

He watched you from his favorite spot, one hand hidden under the pillow while the other gripped at the sheets, wiggling without any control of your body. You were screaming his name, grateful for the interruption and relief from the summer heat, but it was muffled thanks to your legs tightly pressed against his ears. He counted down from ten in his head and watched as you let go right before he hit ‘ten’, coming apart slowly and then all at once in his mouth. 

As your legs freed him, he stretched his neck from left to right  and licked his shiny mouth.

“How do you always know just what I need?” Breathlessly, you turned your head to ask as he found his pants on the ground. It was a tie as to which one of you was stickier with sweat. You were surprised he wasn’t looking for more, something to help him get off.