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halcyone-of-the-sea · 9 months

Note

Ahhhh I've been waiting for your requests to open, I've been following you since your first Price fic and never had an idea to request until like 2 weeks ago 😫 so, I've been thinking, what about being in a relationship with Keegan but getting separated when ODIN hits the earth and not meeting again until about 5 years later? 👀 Love your writing, hope you have a great day 🩵 :)

For The Weak And Weary

PAIRING: Keegan P. Russ x F!Reader

SYNOPSIS: When ODIN struck you had thought he had died, sky alight with fire. It had taken years to accept it, much less live with it. But after Dallas falls, would you get a glimpse of your Lover's phantom again?

WORDCOUNT: 6.2k

WARNINGS: Angst, depressive thoughts, PTSD insinuations, gore, wounds, blood, death, canon-typical violence, (1) suggestive joke, alcohol, hallucinations, fluffy reunion, tears, verbal arguments, etc.

A/N: Just because I'm a sucker for sticking to the game timeline I made it ten years, lol. Enjoy, Anon! Very fun prompt.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You could never make sense of what Keegan went through in 2005 during Operation Sand Viper. It would be pointless to try and wrap your head around it from what little you knew. All that mattered was that when he came back on leave, something in his eyes was…damaged. Hell, he’d only been sixteen—the both of you had known each other since you were kids, you knew when something was wrong.

And this was entirely new to you.

He smiled less and snapped more; got spooked when you dropped something in his family's kitchen like a grenade had gone off. Maybe, you reasoned, he thought one actually had.

But through it all, you could still see how much he cared about you. When you were old enough you’d both moved into a nice place in the suburbs and started a relationship—a life shared between the two of you.

You knew he loved you from the way he’d grip you close at night and breathe into your scalp. How when you were sick from the take-out dinner he’d brought home, Keegan would hold back your hair and rub circles into your spine as you threw up. He never shied away from telling you how beautiful you were; prided himself on it. Keegan loved to show you off.

But there were times back then when you wondered if the same Keegan that had been so fulfilled to join Ghosts had died, and, in fact, a phantom was instead puppeting his skin. He was so quiet now.

If you’d known that the world was going to end on July 10th, 2017, you’d have never let him walk out that door angry. You would have grabbed his hand and pressed your lips to his, whispered affirmations into his flesh and sobbed at the cruelty of it all.

“I can’t keep pretending that you’re okay!” You yell, tears in your eyes, at the man standing tense in the kitchen doorway. Blank blue eyes stare lifelessly. “Keegan—this is killing you.”

It was early morning by then, and the neighborhood was quiet. The house that the both of you had moved into years ago was littered with the remnants of a happy home. Pictures on the walls, dishes in the sink, and freshly baked bread on the counter. All you’d tried to do was give Keegan a hug, slipping your hands around his waist when you’d entered.

He’d balked back, jerking to the side and nearly elbowed you in the gut before he saw your wide eyes and stopped himself. The way he’d looked at you…how could eyes be so dead?

“You need to talk to someone,” you put your foot down, shaking your head. “I-I don’t know a therapist or…or someone who can get you proper help because I can’t keep acting like I can live like this.”

Every mission, every time he went away, it always got worse.

Keegan’s eyes get sharp, hands at his sides clenching. He speaks in a low growl. “I don’t need to talk to a shrink, alright? I’m fine, you just startled me.”

“Bullshit,” your mouth hisses, glaring. “You thought you were back in ‘05.”

The man points at you, strong jaw clenching, “Don’t.”

“Keegan,” you plead, “please, I love you! I don’t care about this, I just want you to be alright. To be able to live your life—”

“What you want is to try and change me!” The black-haired man barks. Your eyes blink in shock. Keegan rarely yelled. “I already told you I was fine, why don’t you get off my back all the time?” His eyes flash, pupils going to slits as his hands shake at his sides. Why did he look scared? Your breath stills, lips slightly open, with tears dripping to the tile. “Fuck, it’s like I can’t come home without you pesterin’ me ‘bout something!”

A stiff silence falls.

“Kee—” He snaps a hand to his mouth and rubs at his stubble, suddenly unable to look at you.

“...Forget it.” It’s low and shaky how he says it, eyes wide, before he darts into the foyer and slips into his boots. You listen to the sounds of panicked shuffling before the man wrenches open the front door and slams it shut behind him. One of the picture frames falls and hits the ground with a shattering of glass.

You flinch and tense, taking down a terse breath and sniffling tightly. Trying to get your lungs to work properly, your feet take you over to the picture as they feel weak and uneven; a stuttering mess of steps before you bend down. Your fingers bleed as they shift the glass away, taking out the image of you and Keegan on your hike through the mountains.

Smiling faces mock you, and you break at the bright and open affection Keegan wears as he looks down at you—eyebrows curved up and smirk like a knife to the chest.

You loved him so much it hurt to breathe when he was away.

He had needed time, you knew, but what you didn’t know was that time wouldn’t be available. Around noon the world had opened into a ball of fire and death. 27 million dead. Los Angeles, San Diego, Phoenix, Houston, and Miami…all gone…at least, that was what everyone in Dallas was telling you.

When Keegan had been away taking a walk to calm himself, you’d been home alone. The earth caved, the ground shook; houses burst like balloons. By the time you’d crawled from the rubble of your home, all you had was the picture and the clothes on your back. People were screaming—you were screaming. But you knew that you couldn’t stay here if you wanted to survive.

And then you’d made it to Dallas by sheer luck and the few tricks Keegan had taught you; had thought that he had died in that first strike by the Federation. You carried that guilt and self-hatred for not holding your tongue for a few more hours.

So much could have been different in these ten years. Better. You never got over him for even a second.

But the reality was that you couldn’t think about all of that now, because if you didn’t focus on holding your breath you would be dead in the next three seconds.

Your hand is anchored to the body of your sniper rifle, finger hovering over the trigger as you hide behind the outcropping of rubble in the decimated cityscape; the air is hot and humid despite the weight of the night. It sticks to your skin in a sheen of violent sweat. Yet it’s still not as potent as the blood.

Teeth gritted, you hold back whimpers as Federation soldiers stalk the grounds, scores of them—legions. An entire army that had breached the walls and executed everyone insight, soldiers, civilians, if it once moved it didn’t anymore. The burning in your shoulder was agonizing, head smashing itself back to the rubble in an attempt to stifle your own ragged need to scream into the night as layers had peeled back to allow a bullet to pass through.

In the ten years you’d been here, you’d taken up the mantle of quite the sharpshooter; pulling on Keegan’s lessons when he was on leave and wanted to bring you to the firing range. You had even picked a rifle similar to the one back in your destroyed home—held in a plastic case and treated like royalty by your long-deceased lover. It wasn’t the same, but the jet-black Lynx made you steady like the picture in your breast pocket did.

A reminder of what was lost and why you had picked the knock-off up in the first place.

Footsteps get closer as the sweep of a flashlight cards above your skull, if possible you go even more still, lips pulled in and heart rampaging. There were barked orders and yelling, but no more screaming.

How long had you been unconscious after taking that shot to the shoulder? Fear was breeding with horror—was…was everyone dead?

Spanish is loudly called not five feet away, and the flashlight leaves as your breath does. You let off a quiet gasp and suck down air greedily. Eyes flashing from one shadow to another, you look for any opportunity to slip away from the city. In the wind, you could smell fire, and taste it on your tongue as you licked your lips.

All around you can see the limp shadows of bodies and the apartments, large skyscrapers were on fire deep in their frames. The city was entirely lost.

How the federation got into the walls you would never know, though there was concern about the enemy soldiers rounding up civilians outside the walls and executing them. Maybe one cracked before the bullet entered their skull.

You bite hard into your lip to force back your pain. Trying to shoot a rifle would be useless at this point, you might as well have lost the limb. Slinging the gun’s strap over your head, you look back and forth along your visible perimeter, checking for hostiles as you unsheathe your combat knife and cradle your limp arm to your chest.

If only Keegan could see you now.

Rounds of gunfire make the air burn with urgency, and you take the time to peek out behind as sweat makes a trail down your dirty face, dripping off of your chin as you breathe like a wheezing dog. Your wound needed tending, and you had the med pack on your vest with the supplies, but you can’t do it here.

Where’s safe? If Dallas has fallen…is there anywhere that’s still standing? A location hits your brain as your gaze darts from one abandoned street to another. You take a deep breath and whine as you force your legs to stand and move quickly, feet shifting as quietly as you’re able to make them.

“Fort Santa Monica.” Now a stronghold, you’d heard US soldiers here talking about the large presence of military power out in California—numbers so great they rivaled those that had lived in Dallas.

You stumble over a spasming body and slam your uninjured shoulder into the bulk of the building’s wall, groaning loudly like a wounded boar.

“Fuck!” If you made it out of the city, that would be where you would have to go; to warn them of what was coming. The Federation had found a way inside the Dallas wall, and that meant if they had enough tenacity, they could do it to them too.

Everything would be done if another city fell.

Holding your knife tighter, you push off the wall and grit your teeth harder, mind running on that edge of hysteria and forced calm. It’s in these moments where you have to pull on old memories to keep you going—even if they end up hurting more than the open wounds you carry.

Keegan had his bad moments, but you always got through them together. Years and years of knowing each other inside and out; memorizing bodies and thoughts like they were second nature. He would want you to keep fighting, tell you to get your ass in gear and go…and you would never let him down.

You owed him that much even if some days you wanted more than anything to join him.

Blade in hand, you hear muttered speech from up the alleyway and pause, feet splayed but still swaying as you come to a slow stop. Your ears ring at garbled sentences, foreign words spilling into one another.

Panting, you listen closely, limbs vibrating. More gunfire echoes over the air, screams and death that get ingrained into your head like a brand into sizzling flesh. Skyscrapers burned and buildings fell with great earthquake booms. Everything is under a sheen of distance.

Get out of the city. Get to Fort Santa Monica.

“Kill who I have to,” you slur out, itching at your neck as you leave a trail of blood behind you. A single pair of footsteps walk quickly forward near your corner and you hold your breath, bringing up your knife as pain pounds in your arm.

Deep blue eyes sit in the back of your mind, counting you down as they always did.

Keep your arm steady for me, Doll, a phantom tells you. Breathe...

When the first shadow of a Fed soldier graces your eyes, you strike.

—

It’s roughly nineteen days from Dallas to Santa Monica, and that was if you kept up at a steady walking pace. If the crude sling you’d fashioned from bandages found in your med pack was any indicator, it would be double that.

On the first day, you had hiked half-dead over the destroyed landscape of what remained of the USA, licking your wounds and counting your losses. You’d had your pick of abandoned houses, taking a red brick one just because it looked nice and you were about to pass out from blood loss. The only reason you’d made it this far was that the bullet had thankfully passed right through you, making sure that if you moved too suddenly no more damage was being done internally. You packed it with a sterile rag.

Sitting in the home, pictures gathering dust on the fireplace mantle, you tipped back a bottle of whisky you’d found in one of the bedrooms, grimacing at the sting. It was better to be drunk for what you were about to do.

Heating up your combat knife in the fire you had started in the hearth, you watched the metal grow an eye-flinching white as you stared off into nothingness.

“You remember when you showed me that scar, Keegan?” You always talked to him. Others had given you shit for it, but they knew the purpose. If you didn’t talk to someone, even a ghost, you would give up.

The guilt was eating you alive, and it would overtake you eventually. Hadn’t in ten years, but it would…you knew it, everyone did.

Keegan was everything, and nothing looked the same when you lost him.

“The one on your thigh?” Pulling the knife back, you turn to the leaking flesh of your shoulder, gushing blood as black desecrates the sides of your eyes. You’d taken off your vest and shirt. If you tried hard enough you could imagine Keegan standing in the corner, watching. Always watching. “You said you had to dig a bullet out and cauterize the wound—when I asked you said you barely felt it over all the adrenaline.”

The ghost tilts its head, eyes sad and lips pulling taunt. Your lungs take in a shaky inhale and your hand quivers; only you feel how your eyes burn with unshed tears.

“I never thought about it before,” right as you growl and shove the knife into your skin, you bark out in fear, “But I think you were fucking lying!”

On day two, you knew you had to avoid the remains of Fort Worth, so you decided to increase your distance and cut that landmark out entirely—too many remnants of Federation. They were everywhere now, and you needed to keep low; get out of Texas. You scavenged properties and took stock.

Four magazines for your Lynx, a pouch with five protein bars, one bottle of water attached to your belt, and your knife. Normally you’d have a pistol at your thigh, but you’d used it up in the firefight back home. When you’d woken back up, it had been gone.

And, of course, you had the picture. You kissed Keegan’s face and placed it back in your breast pocket, caressing the material softly before clearing your throat and addressing the obvious.

With what you had getting to California was a pipe dream.

You’d been on the radio all day, clicking through channels and pleading for anyone alive to reach out. Nothing. Static.

I’m the only one left. The thought was intoxicating, pounding in your skull like your hangover. Everyone is dead.

While you had become somewhat of a loner in the last ten years, especially with the few months you’d been by yourself in the beginning, Dallas had given you a chance to build bonds again. Ten years, and in an instant it was all wiped out.

It rang a devastating bell.

Somehow, you had cheated death where so many others had failed—not only in Texas, but back with ODIN too. You had survived, but somehow Keegan hadn’t.

Keegan, the one who never spoke about ‘05 and jerked awake from nightmares years later because of it. Keegan, who wanted nothing more than to stay at your side when he was home and keep you on his chest when watching movies. Keegan, the love of your life.

The only love of your life.

“I really wish you were here,” you mutter, grimacing as your arm gets jostled as you stumble over a piece of rusted metal in the empty street. “Who gave you the right to go away before me, huh? We were supposed to grow old together, Russ. You promised me that.”

Garbage gets blown over the road when a hot breeze shifts the air, bringing the scent of dirt and the noise of rustling trees. Nature has reclaimed the towns and suburbs—great patches of ivy and long grass that rise to your hips. But the silence was a curse.

The only thing keeping you going is the thought of delivering your warning to Santa Monica, from there…

Your lips thinned. What even was there left? How many times could you go from one place to another, starting over with stories of your past and having to brush the pitying looks off as you fake a smile?

Shaking your head, you recall memories from the better days as the light gets low in the sky.

“You’re doin’ too much, Sweet Thing,” Keegan mutters, and you turn from the stove top with a bright smile to face him.

He had just gotten out of the shower, towel ruffling through his dark hair as he stands in the kitchen entrance and watches you cook for him. The shirt hangs off of his wide shoulders, and gray sweatpants are loose over his formed hips—his strong brow line raises in a casual expression.

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t like it,” you tease, hearing his low chuckles as you turn back to your pan. “You look good, y’know.”

“Oh, yeah?” Keegan grunts, smirking, and his feet pad over to you, tossing the towel to the counter as his presence looms over your back. Large hands grab onto your hips and a nose burrows into your hair; inhaling deeply before gradually melting to the curve of your spine.

You smile and hum, pushing back so you can rest on his chest. A chin sets itself on your head, deep massaging fingers making you pur as they bunch your sleep shorts.

It was late—nearly two in the morning. Keegan had only gotten home a short while ago, but sleep wasn’t going to stop you from spoiling him. A wine bottle was on the island counter, two glasses, and the food was nearly done from what you could scrounge up on short notice.

“...Good to be back,” the man grumbles into you, kissing your head and slowly sweeping his arms around your waist as you sighed softly at the contact.

Your face gains heat.

“Well, I’d sure hope so, or else this would be awkward.” You huff to hide the bright smile in your voice. But like a moth to flame, you hear, as well as feel, Keegan chuckle against your spine. His grip squeezes you for a moment.

“How was it when I was away?” He asks as you move around the contents in the pan, nose brushing your neck as his lips travel to kiss behind your ear. He breathes against the flesh as his low rasp makes you shiver. “Any trouble?”

“Negative, Sergeant,” you raise a brow and smirk over your shoulder at him, seeing his blues spark as he gazes hard into your eyes. A faint twitch to his lips is what you get before his hand captures your cheek; anchoring your face as he descends to connect his mouth to yours.

He sighs into it, arm still around your waist—tight as if you were a pillow.

“Keep talkin’ like that and we won’t have to wait long for dessert, will we?”

Days three through seven were uneventful beyond the constant agony of your arm and tired legs, but on day eight amid a waterless walk in the sweltering heat was when the hallucinations began.

Keegan walks beside you, his footsteps mirroring your own as sweat pools down your forehead and drips off your nose. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t look at you—he just walks, looking exactly like he did the day he died.

At first, you’d flinched back and blinked wildly at the sight, panting, but then he’d disappeared and your heart had shattered. It worried you with what you were seeing, but it was also a strange comfort to be able to ramble to…something, even if it wasn’t real. Hungry and with a dry tongue, you were on the verge of calling it quits.

So on day eleven, without a wild animal in sight to give you a proper food source and all the water having to be purified, you started talking to him while licking the inside wrapper of your last protein bar.

“But I never understood why you hated sleeping in shirts,” you licked your lips to get the remnants of granola off of your flesh, pushing away the greasy sheen from your cheeks. Your arm was burning up—every heartbeat was felt as it moved the skin around red and infected flesh up and down. Puss was leaking out from the crude stitches you had made of embroidery thread from that first house you’d found.

“And you always kept the room freezing.” Continuing, you drop the wrapper to the ground and then take the meat of your fingers and get what little flavor you can off of them, grunting through realization. “That was a ploy to have me use you for heat, wasn’t it? Jesus.”

The man in the corner of your vision smirks, tilting his head and chuckling from where he leans against a tree trunk.

“Yeah, that’s right. Knew it.” Glaring at nothing, you stand from your overturned stump and nearly fall right back over, stomach yelling at you as your vision swirls.

You dig a hand into your hair and grip at the strands, pulling and groaning. “...God.”

Keegan comes over and stands above you, your eyes staring down at his feet as you get light-headed. You focus on his shoelaces, counting the Xs and taking down shaky breaths. When you blink like a cat with dirt on its face, the shoes are gone entirely and you stand back up to your full height.

“...Keegan?” You ask after a moment, the words disappearing into the trees, but no one’s around.

Your sight goes to your wound and your jaw tightens, moments of clarity slipping in as a knife would into your consciousness before the curtain settles once more.

You bend over and vomit what little nutrients you had, spending day twelve sleeping through a fit of nightmares and fever-induced delirium.

Nothing about the remainder of the time you can recall to memory—bits and pieces always flash through on long nights, but they’re only walking montages. Dragging feet, looking at your hand as if it was a foreign object as you turned it back and forth; everything in a sheen of sickness. Days and days and days. Little food. Less water.

More than one-thousand miles.

But somehow, the Wall peels out in front of you as you crash through the foliage, your body giving out and collapsing down a large decline. Bouncing and getting jostled by rocks, you come to a stop without the strength to get back up, staring blankly ahead as your head connects with concrete. Your mouth is open in broken inhales, pain not even registering.

Shouts echo, the pound of rapid feet.

Green eyes meet yours, a youthful face with a beanie and stubble. He’s saying something to you, glancing over your gear and your obvious near-death situation—his hand jostles the side of your face. But your eyes shift behind him gradually, attention falling to someone more important.

Before you finally let yourself rest, you stare at the smiling face of your steadfast phantom.

—

The doctors and nurses at Fort Santa Monica were nice, if a bit secretive about the entire operation. Seeing as you weren’t an official soldier, no dog tags or patches—no name in the database—everyone was a bit hesitant to tell you anything.

Until you said you were from Dallas, of course.

But no one was eager to rush you in your state, even if the information was dire. You had been hooked up to an IV and bedridden for a week straight; talking to nothing on account of the dehydration and electrolyte imbalances. Some days you spend unconscious.

But what really pissed you off when you got back into it, was the fact that they had taken your Lynx and your gear—your picture.

You’d almost grappled onto the first nurse you’d seen when you’d woken without it. It was a beacon, your prized possession of damaged corners and taped tears. Water damage that may or may not have been from sobbing fits in the first five years.

In fact, that was the entire reason you had snuck out so late in the first place.

Stalking down the hallway in the white shirt and camo pants that had been given to you on the fifth morning you had woken up here, you pad along with no shoes, only plain gray socks. You limp with bandaged flesh all along your healing shoulder and your feet.

The doctor had explained that you’d entirely skinned the bottoms and your heels were a mess of blisters and open wounds.

“Take my property,” you grumble under your breath, shuffling along and rubbing at the back of your neck. “What gives them the right?”

You weren’t going to stop until you found it.

Reading the name tags on the walls, you silently wonder where they would have taken your stuff as you slip out of the medical ward, listening to the buzzing of the lights and frowning. As you’re limping along the next hallway, a man suddenly turns the corner on nearly silent feet.

“Woah!” You halt immediately, heart jumping in your chest. A hand catches your shoulder before you run headlong into him.

Green eyes lock with your own, wide and blinking quickly. Brows furrow and you’re quickly looked over before a slow, teasing remark enters the air, you listen with a growing heat on your neck.

“Y’know, I could have sworn you were supposed to be in bed, Ma’am. I miss something here?” The man who had found you.

“Wouldn’t know,” you say blandly, blinking up at him and taking a careful step back. This brunette had a casual air to him—still in his gear despite the time. He folds his arms and tilts his head at you, smirking. “If you’ll excuse me.”

You begin to walk forward, slipping past him and hoping you won’t get snitched on. Except it seems you’ll be having a shadow, as not a few seconds later a smooth chuckle meets your ears and the man walks beside you.

“I think I’ll be taggin’ along if you don’t mind. Security and all.” He turns to face you, sticking out his opposite hand. “Hesh.”

“That supposed to be some kind of nickname, Kid?” You raise a stiff brow but participate in the handshake nonetheless. His grip is firm but not hard.

Hesh blinks at you, eyes swimming with amusement before he shrugs in a boyish way and shakes his head with a laugh. “Hell, you remind me of someone, Ma’am.” A moment passes in silence as you study the area. The man huffs, “Where exactly are we off to?”

“Wonderland,” your lips grumble, tired and wanting to sleep but not until you find your picture. Hesh sighs but you can still hear the hilarity inside of it.

“Alright then…don’t know if you’re going to be finding a shrinking potion anytime soon, though. We’re in low stock.”

“Very funny,” your eyes send a dry look, but you relent when he prods you with his eyes, taking a corner. “I’m looking for my vest.” Hesh blinks at you in curiosity, letting you elaborate as you motion to your upper shoulder. “My pouch has some of my personal belongings. I don’t like being away from it.”

“Oh,” the brunette nods a few times, his beanie jerking along. “Yeah, that’s no problem.” A hand is waved and you stare in confusion as he pivots. “C’mon, I’ll get you there.”

Your eyes burn into his back before you immediately speed after.

“Why so eager to help?” Hesh smirks at your question.

“As I see it, if you went over nineteen days of hard hiking just to get to us, you should at least be able to keep your stuff on you, Ma’am.” Your lips flicker in a smile.

“You’d be the first.” You tell him your name and miss the slight emotion it provokes in his eyes, head lightly pulling to the side but ultimately saying nothing. Hesh shrugs with a grunt, leading you to a meeting room on the opposite side of the building.

Yelling is on the other side.

“Elias, how long has this been kept from me?!” The voice makes your head perk, evoking something inside of your chest. Hesh seems taken aback too, holding up a hand to you for momentary silence—not that you had to be told.

“Keegan, I can’t have that happen. She needs to recover and you being there could jeopardize that. We need what she knows about Dallas.” Your body stills to a near-frozen state, and it’s comedic how your entire face falls to a blank slate. Wait a second.

…Keegan?

“She belongs with me—I thought she fucking died and she’s been here for who knows how long?! Why wasn’t I informed?” Rampaging feet suddenly sound off, going to the door at break-neck speed.

“Son, that’s not a good idea. This is what I was worried would happen if you found out.”

“I didn’t exactly ask, did I? As far as I’m concerned, nothing else matters besides getting back to my Girl,” the bark is ferocious and violent, more of an animal’s than a man’s. “Now where the hell did you put her before I tear this damn fort apart and—” You shove at the door before Hesh can grab you, throwing it open and letting it hit the opposite wall with a great boom of wood.

Your wild eyes instantaneously lock into sharp blues, pulse pounding in your ears. It’s like all the air is taken from your lungs in a great punch.

Oh, he’s so similar to how you remembered him to be ten years ago.

Keegan stands only a few feet away, turned in your direction with his eyes so wide and small you might faint. There’s black face paint in his sockets, making the cerulean all the more bright and shocking to the senses. He’s still tall, still built, if only a bit more rugged than when ODIN struck—there are lines on his forehead and his scars are more faded. Small differences in the way he holds himself like the difference between a rabbit and a hare. Keegan’s black locks are shorter now, but still…his.

Lips part in silent shock, an entire halt of your nervous system.

The entire universe holds its tongue as you two stare at each other; walls and rooms blur into a mess of matter and reality—this couldn’t be real.

Keegan’s feet shift for a moment as if to steady himself as his fingers twitch. In his hand, he holds your picture, his body covered in gear and weapons. He blinks as you tell yourself he’s a phantom, simply that same ghost come back to haunt you as tears sting the backs of your eyes. But then he speaks, and it’s the same voice you had slowly lost the ability to remember in year three.

“...Sweetheart?”

His ghost never spoke. His ghost could not imitate the phonics of his speech or the rhythm of his throat. His ghost could not make you recall the memories you’d long since boxed up.

You jerk forward just as he does, bodies colliding into a feral grip of flesh and fabric, hands latching and faces burying. Sobs rip from you as Keegan’s shaky breath echoes right next to your ear—his chest hitching and arms snatching your waist and lifting you up as easily as he always had. He holds you up without any thought of putting you down, legging your legs dangle as Elias slowly exits the room and corrals a highly confused Hesh with him.

The door shuts, but neither of you notices.

“Keegan—” Your voice is high with emotion, hardly believing what you're seeing—what you’re touching. “Oh, my God.”

He had been alive all this time? Ten whole years and you’d thought he was dead. But by the way he was barely letting you breathe from in his iron clutch, you imagined Keegan had thought the same about you. It was…incomprehensible.

“Shh,” he whispers, his shushes cracking and flinching between broken gasps of your name. “Shh.” He sets you down on the floor only to have his firm hands travel to your cheeks, turning your head to each side in a desperate need to understand if you were really there.

Keegan’s eyes are wet, but no tears let themselves fall quite yet.

“I’m so sorry!” You hiccup and the man kisses your cheeks—your browline and nose. Every piece of you he can as you both stay so intimate you might melt into one another. “I thought you were gone, I-I should have stayed and looked for you, I didn’t—”

“You’re alive?” Keegan’s hands rub across your body, gripping and tugging you closer and closer. “My Girl’s alive?”

His tears drip to your face as he hovers above you, and you both shake with the weight of years.

“Me?” Your chuckle through sobs—you want to scream and wail at the same time. Blue eyes flutter and ragged breaths puff on your forehead. “What about you, you asshole?”

Keegan shakes his head, and you stare deeply into him, hands coming up to cup his cheeks as he sags forward. He had stubble now, spreading out to grate your flesh.

The man forces a weak huff.

“Christ,” is all he mutters before he presses his lips to yours in a kiss so unyielding you expect to have your air stolen. Ten years to feel him kissing you again—to feel his warm flesh under your hands and his heart rampage into you.

You’d do it all over if it still amounted to this.

Your body shivers and you reciprocate with just as much fervor; this emotion of relief is so overwhelming and all-consuming that it makes your head light. You suck down quick breaths between the sensation of your lips meeting, Keegan doing the same.

Unconsciousness was better than letting him leave again, your lover sharing that sentiment as chests slid against one another. Soft hair slips through your fingers as you grip Keegan’s hair, cascading through locks as he groans into your lips and tries to hide his tears from you.

He pulls away and immensely shoves his head into your neck.

“You’re here,” he whispers quickly. A hand quivers at the back of your head as your tears wet his gear. “You’re right here. You came back to me, didn’t you, Doll?”

You cry, “I’m here, Keegan.” The man sobs when he hears you say his name, his knees giving out as you both fall to the floor and not letting the other move beyond the caress of skin and lips.

“I missed you,” Keegan gasps, “so much. Don’t you understand? I was nothing without you. You took it all from me, everything. Every damn thing.”

You press kisses to his neck and racing pulse, healing him inside and out without even realizing it; it was only fair, he was doing the same back to you.

The picture lays long forgotten on the floor.

“Never let me go,” your voice forces out, as he rocks you back and forth like a child. “Never again, Keegan. Please, I love you too much to go through that again.”

“Never,” he immediately promises, pulling back and kissing your lips again—neither can stop themselves from this. Blues eyes blink quickly, cataloging your face and every little blemish he’d have to relearn and study; to find the story behind. Keegan had never been happier. He felt like he might break from it. “Over my dead body, I’m never lettin’ you out of my sight. You’re stuck with me.”

You laugh genuinely for the first time in ten years and say you’d like nothing better as he pulls you back in and plants his mouth to yours in reverent worship. His arms trapping you to him as yours do just the same.

Not to leave again anytime soon.

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

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knightonio · 12 days

Note

it has been months and your gunplay knifeplay posts has been on my mind and making me hard everyday sir SPARE ME I'LL DIE IF YOU WRITE SOMETHING KINKIER THAN THAT or don't teehee

warnings. sparring. dom male reader. cock crushing/stepping. slight dubcon. pain + humiliation/degradation kink. blowjob thru clothes. dirty talk. hinted older reader. improper s&m. public sex.

it’s an average session on the wet soil of the forest, a duel between teammates that has a negative history with each other. victory isn’t far off from your hands, successfully landing a few harsh blows on your opponent. grunts built on frustrations meeting every strike.

“gfgh—shit!” he chokes on a curse as his feet backtrack him to a tree due to an unexpected kick. your glove-hidden hand wrap around his neck, patting him down in a mock inspection to ensure there weren’t any knives ready to plunge into you.

a half-groan is elicited as your finger bumps his thigh. oh, not quite; it was his groin. “don’t...” surprise doesn’t even wash over you at him being turned on. better yet, your knee forcefully collides with his clothed dick and he nearly doubles over.

damn, this was definitely unlocking something you weren’t aware of. his hands curled around the rough sensation of the tree behind him, prickling his uniformed skin. “what the fuck’s wrong with—ughm!” your thigh hits his groin, each contact sending imaginary stars to circle his head.

you shove him to his knees, causing him to grab you in quick reaction. “what’s wrong with me? look at yourself,” fingers closing around the top of his helmet to tilt his head up to you, the outsole of your boot stepping on his poor dick, “fucking pathetic.”

the soil is wet, and it forms a disgusting patch over the crotch of his pants of grime and rain. “shut it.” it would’ve been intimidating if it weren’t for the way he leaned forward, mouthing at your cock.

“oh, yeah? if you go ‘round still actin’ like a bitch even if i got you humping me, might ‘swell take a photo of you.” he groans at that, and you press more of your weight onto his bulge. boot twisting and thrusting ever so slightly, unsuspecting of how well he withstands the pain.

his thighs quiver, moaning into you whilst his tongue swipes over your hidden tip. he’s creating such a mess, over you and himself. “shit, baby, what a fuckin’ sight.” a high-pitched whimper escapes him when you slam the outsole on his dick. “nngh—so you are useful.” his demeanor is arrogant compared to his current compromising state.

“to what, your masochistic tendencies?” you scoff, certain that you were on the brink of crushing it. he shows no sign of confirmation to your thoughts, instead enthusiasm. “maybe... you’re feeding into that pretty well,” he grunts, chasing after your dirtied shoe that threatens to leave him. “too well, actually, enough to make me want to ride you ‘til i can’t take it anymore.”

you almost offer him a laugh but one suck of his cuts your voice off into a quiet moan. “didn’t take you for a bottom bitch. not even for a shameless one.” he begins to hump your shoe, actions desperate as he flicks his tongue over and over that you wished you were in a more private area. “could never imagine that you’d be a pervert, getting turned on from something as violent as that—”

finding where his shaft should be, you kick a few times against it. “—in a place like this. anyone can walk here and see you, watch you as you cum on me like a cheap-faced whore.”

he whines into your tip, material thinning because of the amount of saliva trailing from his mouth. “you like it.” it’s a statement that isn’t quite distant from the truth. he fell into an act, learnt doe eyes staring up at you feigning such innocence you want to corrupt.

“thought you were mature ‘nough not to indulge in a pretty thing like me,” you know there’s a playful smirk on his lips, idiotic words easy to him. you kick apart his legs wider before returning your boot back on his cock, “don’t blame me now, sweetheart.”

sweethearts. keegan russ. fushiguro toji. spider-man noir.

masterlist

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wjehfshs · 9 months

Text

Keegan, Hesh, and Logan X reader who’s very light (picking you up)

I’m making this bc I feel super insecure about being underweight and not being able to put any weight on so I made some fluff to make myself feel better

Keegan

You two were playing around

Play fighting for a bit

He went to pick you up and yes he is strong but he was expecting to at least have to put in some work

So when he picks you up and you’re light asf he’s surprised

Doesn’t say anything but now he’s silently told himself to carry you around regularly since you’re so easy to pick up

Hesh

You were just standing in the hallway, thinking something over when Hesh snuck up behind you and picked you up

He was also expecting to have to put in work to pick up a whole human being

But when he was able to just pick you up like that. He went from 😄 to 😦

Literally that was his face

Shocked to say the least

“Dude wtf you’re so light” he doesn’t mean to be rude with that comment so if you get upset about it he’ll immediately apologise

Logan

You couldn’t reach something that was super high up

Logan couldn’t reach it either so you asked him to lift you up so you could grab it

As he did he kinda stumbled a bit because he had put in a lot of force, expecting you to be heavier

“Logan I swear if you drop me” you snapped playfully at him, but also trying to regain your own balance

#cod ghosts #cod ghosts x reader #Keegan p Russ #Keegan p Russ x reader #Keegan Russ #Keegan Russ x reader #Keegan #Keegan x reader #hesh walker #hesh Walker x reader #hesh x reader #hesh #Logan Walker x reader #Logan walker #Logan x reader #logan

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manicrouge · 3 months

Text

SIN CITY

[𝙺𝚎𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚗 𝚁𝚞𝚜𝚜 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛]

[𝙳𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝙿𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍]: 09/02/24

[𝙰𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝]: Rorke finds the Ghost's and you fear you're never going to see Keegan again.

[𝙲𝚠]: Major character death, violence, gore, graphic injury, hurt/ comfort, reader goes THROUGH IT, idk if there's anything else.

[𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝]: 7k (exactly btw)

[𝙰/𝙽]: This has literally been in my drafts since Decemeber and I wrote way too much of it to not do anything with it so = I hope this is enough to suffice. Also, this is entirely based off of the mission 'Sin City' in call of duty ghosts, so if you haven't seen or played the game and don't want spoilers then please skip this !! (I would be surprised if you've not seen this yet you're in the Keegan tag.)

Also, if people do enjoy this I am down to write a part two so please let me know :3

ENJOY !!

There may be typos, apologies!!

Please don't post my work anywhere else without my permission !!

‘If I ever went missing, would you go and look for me?'

It was silent for a moment, and after five seconds passed, you turned to look at the man lying beside you. As you observed his features, you realised that his eyes were closed and while you doubted someone’s ability to dose off so quickly, you sure as shit didn’t doubt Keegan’s. His hand on your waist gave him away as it tightened on you, pulling you closer to him.

Opening his eyes, he peered at you with a furrowed brow. ‘The fuck kinda question is that, princess?’ He asked, ‘of course I would. Besides, need you with me,’ he said, ‘who else would I have to watch my back? Didn’t spend all that time training you for you to disappear on me, did I?’

Smug bastard.

'You're full of yourself,' you bit back.

'Good reason to be,' he said, brushing a hand through his black hair, moving his fringe away from his eyebrows, 'I'll consider being humble when I lose you, princess. But that hasn't happened and it won't be happening on my watch, not at all,' he reassured, pulling you closer to him.

You slapped his chest, letting out a heavy sigh, resting your head against his chest. In the dead of the night and the silence in your room, you listen to the thud of his beating heart while held up on a tiny bed. You were practically on top of him, legs intertwined.

There wasn't anywhere to go, however, and he didn't seem to care about you closeness at that moment. Rather, he settled with the heat of your body much better than he would have settled in a bed with more space.

'You think this'll ever be over?' you mumbled, closing your eyes, 'I'd like to sleep in a bigger bed with you; this ones a little cramped. Maybe even watch something on a TV too.’

'You're free to take the floor if you want to, I'm not stopping you,' he grunted, pinching your waist.

'I'm gonna blow your brains out,' you sleepily mumbled, placing your hand over his. His chest twitches as he lets out a short laugh, folding his arm behind your head so he can brush his fingers through your hair. 'I mean it,' you grumbled.'

'Of course you do, princess,' he said, 'of course you do.'

—

Throughout your training as a Ghost, you gained an understanding that things will never ever be as easy as you wish they were. But, it came with the job, you suppose, whether it was spoken or not.

Feelings as such only ever drift in when you don’t have a distraction, and the absence of Keegan after Elias sent him to Colorado Springs proved to be bruising.

Admittedly, you had been apprehensive with Elias’ request, although, in private, you digressed as you noted that Elias is your Captain, and you were to never question your captains judgement. Even when it came to someone that you loved. So, you bit your tongue, and for the first time in what felt like a long time, you allowed yourself to relax.

But, you have some things you needed to do before you got any sleep, or before you thought about anything else other than Rorke and the Federation.

‘JSOC’s going to want to move fast on this, so load up before you get any shut eye,’ he advises.

You follow behind him, standing beside Logan as he walked with Hesh and Merrick by his side. Fortunately, the brunt of the experience has been dealt with, you had survived Keegan’s absence overnight, and in a matter of hours, he would be back by your side. Inwardly, you’re embarrassed at your clinginess to him, but deep down you know he enjoys it.

‘We’ve got six hours until Keegan gets back,’ Elias says.

Upon the mention of his name, Riley brushes his head against your leg, and you look down at the German Shepherd, rolling your eyes. Leaning down slightly, you scratch his head. ‘Shut up,’ you grumble to the pup when he looks up at you, his tongue poking out from the corner of his mouth. When you pull your hand away, he licks it, staring back at you. With a huff, you fold to his attempt of cuteness, moving your hand to the his head again.

‘Hold up,’ Merrick says abruptly.

An arm grabs your forearm suddenly, and you let out a startled breath, though when you look in front of you, you realise you’d almost walked right into Hesh. Exhaling, you turn your head to Logan who gives you a short nod.

‘Somethin’ feel off to you?’ Merrick asks, turning to Elias.

The man immediately turns to his right, observing a laptop left perched on a desk. He says little for a moment, and when you turn your head away from your Captain, you acknowledge Merrick’s watchful eye as he peers down the scope of his gun, observing the sights through the broad windows located to the left of you.

‘Security’s working,’ says the man to the right of you.

Merrick slowly backs away, keeping his eyes trained o the window. You feel your throat tighten as you keep your eyes on the man, his paranoia working well to leave a heavy feeling in your chest. Logan lets go of your arm as he glances at his brother, a look that you don’t miss, and Merrick looks at you. You open your mouth to speak, holding the gun in your hands close to your chest, snapping your head to Riley as the dog begins to bark, glaring directly through he window that Merrick had just kept his eyes trained on.

While he may be a dog, he is surely not an idiot- in fact, you’re quite sure that Riley is much smarter than many of the people you had encountered when you had been a simple rookie, before Elias had taken you under his wing. He could certainly kill more people, that’s for sure.

It all seems to happen in slow motion, and the night you had spent prior seems to dissipate in one moment. There’s this hissing, you hear it from below, and before you have time to contemplate what exactly it is, a black can is thrown over the balcony, a train of green smoke pouring from out of the top of it.

‘Fuck,’ you curse, ‘get out!’ you yell, watching as another two cans containing the same foul smelling gas are tossed over the balcony, hitting the ground with a clink.

As you begin to sprint, you find the air around you is similar to the air you breathed whenever you were spending time with Keegan on his smoke break. All oxygen left your lungs as you broke into a sprint, your eyes water, and before you know it, you falling down to the ground, gasping for air as you feel your eyes grow heavy.

In the midst of the panic and over the thumping of your heart in your chest, you hear Elias call out, ‘Riley, hide!’ before breaking out into a fit of coughs.

You wretch, clawing at the ground in some form of futile attempt to escape, but nothing works as you watch Logan collapse right before you, spewing out violent coughs. Never have you felt so defenceless, so weak as you succumb to the gas, the world around you growing blurry before fading into complete darkness.

—

‘What are you doing up, kid?’ Keegan asks, seeing you appear beside him.

Letting out a small yawn, your boots crunch against a few stray rocks as you approach him, taking a seat against the rock he was leaning on, looking out at the remnants of No Mans Land. Logan and Hesh had regarded it as their home, as did their father, though, you couldn’t really picture the place without the addition of a crater which grew every day, claiming the lives of old rickety buildings and unsuspecting wildlife.

It was a sorry sight to see for sure, and inwardly, you were happy you never had the misfortune of seeing your own home falling to pieces.

‘You need sleep,’ he said, taking a drag from the cigarette between his lips.

Your eyebrows raise as you look at him, crossing your arms over yourself. ‘I thought you said you didn’t smoke,’ you say, 'you're a liar.'

You didn’t miss the way he rolled his eyes at your comment, and when he pulls it from his lips, exhaling a cloud of grey smoke, he chuckles. ‘Thought I told you not to hang onto every little thing I tell you, princess,’ he stated, ‘seems like we’re both guilty of doing something we’re not supposed to, hm?’

Placing the cigarette between his lips again, he turns his attention to you, noting that you’d crinkled your nose as the smoke he’d exhaled blew back into your face. ‘You can handle the fuckin’ dust in the battlefield, but the moment you smell a cigarette you fold?’ he mocks, laughing.

Your brow furrows at his comment and you fought of the urge to rip the cigarette out of his mouth. Instead, you allowed him to have his silly little cancer stick knowing that, if you did so something so cruel, he was sure to be upset at you, no matter how close the pair of you were. Cigarettes were difficult to come by and you liked him enough to let him have one in peace.

—

When the world fades in, you’re moving.

You don’t know how, and for a short second, you’re convinced you’ve died. But, when you take a sharp breath and feel your lungs burning, you’re crudely brought back to life. When you look ahead of you, you witness two soldiers trailing behind you. Keeping your head bowed, you wince at the dizziness wrecking your tired mind, attempting to hold your breath in fear of the due ache in your lungs.

Swallowing, your mouth is dry and you feel the urge to vomit as your head keeps swaying from side to side. Your limbs feel like jelly, fluid. You can hear them talking, although, everything seems miles away from you, and you feel your eyes water as the tightness in your chest grows. If they know you’re here, do they know where Keegan is? The thought sends a chill down your spine, and in your delirious state, you declare that you will kill anyone who even dared to touch even a hair on his head. Even if it meant your death too.

‘That all you got you piece of shit?!’

It’s Merrick, you recognise his tone from anywhere, it nearly shatters your delirious state entirely, though, the grip on the back of your collar tightens as your pulled away from him.

There’s more shouting and a loud smack, Merrick, you imagine, is on the receiving end of such a hit. A Ghost in true fashion, that’s for sure. As you attempt to lift your head again, you find the world growing dark once more, and, while you feel as though you should fight against it just as you had seen him do, you allow yourself to fall back into the abyss as you feel your lung burning and throat swelling.

—

There’s a screeching when you come back around, a vile ringing in your ears. ‘Well, I guess if you want something done right, do it yourself.’

Your blood runs cold.

As you slowly begins to lift your head, a hand grabs your face, forcing your head up. The light protruding from the window to the left of you is nearly bruising, and when the hand holding your face successfully tilts your head up, your eyes meet with Rorkes. He looks down at you with a wrinkled smirk, his hold tightening on your hair, yanking it harder. You wince at the pressure as he keeps his eyes on you.

‘You’re finally awake,’ he acknowledges, pushing your head down, letting go of your hair. ‘Good.’

He walks away from you, and as you look around, you note that Hesh is sitting directly across from you, Logan is to the right of you, and Elias is to your left.

As you continue to look around, your face pales at the disappearance of Merrick, and while you sit, you recall the faint memory in your banging head of the man being surrounded by Federation soldiers.

He’s smart, you think, you could leave that bastard in a forest with a knife and he’d have his own fuckin’ city in a month. He’s fine.

‘Nice to have the family back together, isn’t it?’ Rorke asks, looking to Elias. The man shows no fear, looking the devil right in the eyes with a stoic expression on his face. ‘One thing, though,’ he says, ‘we’re just missin’ our quiet friend, aren’t we?’ he says.

Your heart calms at such a statement.

He doesn’t have him, he’s fine, he’s safe.

You expect him to keep his eyes trained on Elias, counting on the fact that he is the Captain, but, he turns his head over his shoulder and looks at you. Heaving a heavy sigh, he turns his back to Elias, placing his hands down on his knees, ‘where’s Keegan?’

Looking him in the eyes, you spite your dry throat as the muscles in your neck contort and you muster up a mouthful of phlegm. He keeps his eyes trained on you, and you lung forward, a spray of mucus and saliva coating his face. ‘Fuck you,’ you heave, ‘I’m not telling you a fuckin’ thing,’ you sharply state.

He looks at you with wide eyes, standing up and wiping his face with the palm of his hand.

‘Damn bitch has got some fight in her, doesn't she?’ he laughs, turning to Elias, ‘not your daughter by blood, but by attitude… fuck me, Elias, you’ve got yourself a mini me!’ he exclaims. You bite your lip, taking a deep breath as you look at your Captain with bleary eyes. Grabbing the back of the man’s chair, he pulls it to him. Elias’ gaze doesn’t leave his. ‘Where is he?’ he slowly questions.

There’s a moment of silence.

‘You know I’m not telling you a damn thing,’ he spits, baring his teeth in his direction.

Never have you seen the man so agitated, his bruised face flushed red, his split lip oozing with blood, a thin line of it trailing down his chin. He looks like a savage beast as the sunlight behind him renders his features darker than typical, and the curve of his lips when he addresses Rorke even sends a shiver up your spine.

Of course, a Ghost was loyal to his own until death, and even then, they were buried down to watch over them. Once a Ghost, always a Ghost. Elias proved his worth much more than Rorke ever could, and while you wondered what exactly they had done to break the man who Elias had described as ‘one hell of a Ghost,’ but one thing was for certain. A man who broke was not a Ghost. Never was, and never would be.

’Go fuck yourself,’ Elias hisses.

Rorke laughs, nodding his head, letting go of the back of his chair. It lands with a clatter, and you watch as the man continues to nod to himself.

‘Dangerous fuckin’ game you’re playing,’ he states, and you watch as his right hand moves from the front of him, trailing around to the side where his pistol sat in his holster.

He’s gonna shoot Elias. Your eyes grow wide as you watch the man retrieve his weapon. Your muscles tensing as he holds it out in front of him. It’s aimed right at his chest, overing above his heart. ‘Well, let's see if I can change your mind,’ he exhales.

BANG.

In a moment, his hand whips around, and when the trigger is pulled, all the air in your lungs exudes like puss from a pimple.

The shot causes your ears to ring. It’s loud, and everything is fuzzy. For a moment, you look up in search of the wound, hoping that the bullet had not went through your Captains skull. Only, when you look in his direction, you see the smoking pistol pointed directly at you. Your eyes grow wide, and you let out a short breath.

You heard the gun go off, the bullet had to be somewhere. And then, you felt a wetness pooling against your thighs. Everything seemed to move slowly when you raised your head up, looking across to Hesh with wide eyes.

I’m going to die, I’m going to die and Keegan isn’t here with me.

As you manage to get a short breath in, agony hits you like a truck and you lean over without a second thought.

I’m going to die.

All you training, everything, how to stop the bleeding, none of it matters; you’re truly at the disposal of the enemy and there’s nothing you can do. Not even you Captain can do anything.

‘NO!’ Elias screams, dragging you back into the moment.

Between the thudding beats of your heart, you hear Hesh screaming out bloody murder, thrashing against the ropes that keep him tied to the chair, ‘Son of a bitch!’ he screams, looking directly at Rorke, ‘I’m going to kill you! You hear me? I’m going to fucking kill you!'

A shaky breath leaves you as your eyes well with tears, and when you look down, you gulp hard at the sight of a wound oozing blood. Your throat tightens as you feel your entire body grow hot.

‘Easy junior,’ Rorke warns with a disapproving tone. You keep your head bowed as his shadow looms over you, ‘I ain’t even started with you yet,’ he chuckles.

Keegan, where’s Keegan- I’m going to die.

Your eyes sting as your trembling hands press against the rope, pulling against them. You need to get out of there otherwise you are going to die.

Elias calls your name, you hear it, he shouts it, yet, it seems so quiet.

'Look at me!’ he demands, and while everything in you is telling you to keep your eyes trained on the wound, you force your head up, sniffing hard as you look your Captain in the eyes. At the very least, even if Keegan isn’t there with you, you have him.

Elias, you captain, your military father. There have been plenty of jokes made during particularly bleak moments in missions where Hesh and Logan have likened you to their sister. It's an honour, truly, to know that they were your brothers no matter relation, and Elias entertained the idea that you were the daughter he had never had.

Rorke appears behind him and it’s then that you don’t realise how many seconds are passing. Every single second feels like an hour, and you’re more than aware that every second passing is yet another drop of wasted blood. You’re running on borrowed fucking time, and there’s Rorke, the big fucking man he is, parading around in front of you like he’s a jester. ‘That’s right,’ he chuckles, placing his hand on Elias shoulder, ‘that’s it,’ he sighs, ‘show him how much pain he’s causing you right now.’

‘Keegan will kill you,’ you rasp out, stifling a short whimper as you clench your teeth. ‘And if he doesn’t, then I will.’

You’re more than aware of the situation your in and your pessimism seems to waver with your consciousness as a sudden boost of adrenaline fills you with defiance. If you’re going to die, you might as well run your tongue; the worst thing that can happen in this moment is him simply putting you out of your misery.

Rorke laughs at your threats, ‘you see,’ he begins, ‘funny think about your old Captain here,’ he stops himself for a moment, shoving Elias as he resumes his position, looking you in the eyes, ‘He lets his men die to save his own ass,’ he states, turning his attention away from you, turning his attention back to the Captain.

Exhaling shakily, you look over to Hesh and Logan who return a look equally as frightened. Never have you seen the pair of them appear so apprehensive, although, you definitely don’t miss the look of anger. No, even though the look isn’t intended for you, you feel a chill run up your spine.

‘Dammit, Rorke,’ Elias yells, ‘this is between you and me!’

The world seems like its on a merry-go-round, twisting and turning leaving a delightful fuzziness in your head. Adrenaline is pupping through you, and you’re thankful for the emotion, for, if you didn’t have it, you very well would have been out like a light. Your hands continue to pull against the ties of your rope, and while your wrists are burning from the constant pulling and tugging, you breath a short sigh of relief when you feel them loosening. Whoever tied it clearly weren’t trained in the art of kidnapping.

‘Leave my kids out of it!’ Elias demands.

You feel your heart warm at his sentiment, giving you all the more fight to get out of these damn binds. Works gun is right next to him, you can get it, you can reach for it, and you can blow that fuckers brains out.

‘You’re talking to a superior Lieutenant,’ Rorke says, pacing back and forward, before finding his way right back to Elias. Looking down at the man, he calmly speaks, ‘show some discipline.’

You feel your face grow warm listening to their exchange.

‘You were never one of us, you’re not a Ghost,’ Elias cruelly says, turning his face away from Rorke, looking down to the ground. Rorke hums, turning his attention back towards you.

The ties are growing looser, they’re getting there, you can almost get your hand out of them, yet, you maintain poker face as you look up at Rorke.

‘Well,’ Rorke breathes, ‘that’s just cause I’m better than you!’ he exclaims, keeping his eyes trained on you. You watch as they narrow, it’s a subtle one, one that you had noted during parring matches with rookies.

As Keegan had taught you, when soldiers get lazy, they give themselves away and it’s always in the eyes.

Your eyes dart to his hands, seeing him clench his fists as he snaps his body around, driving his fist into Elias’ face. The man falls to the side with a grunt as Rorke takes a short breath before raising his other fist, ‘I’ve always been better than you!’ he seethes, punching that man again. Elias tilts his head back against the chair, and you watch as both Logan and Hesh begin to fight much harder against their restraints. Either way, someone was getting out and Rorke was going to pay. ‘But you… you call yourself a Ghost?!’ he barks, hating Elias again.

As he looks down on Elias, you pull a hand free from the ties. Keeping your eyes trained on Rorke, you look down at his gun, gritting your teeth. ‘You’re nothing! You and your kids, you’re dead!’ he declares.

Wrong move.

With his proud declaration, you push yourself up from out of the chair, snatching his pistol from out of the holster on his thigh. Such, unfortunately, doesn’t go unnoticed by Rorke as he whips around, grabbing your arms, forcing the pistol up. You place your hands against his, using all the strength you can muster to pull the gun away from him.

Nothing moves him, however.

But he’s a monster, he likes to play with his food.

He’s not using all his strength, he’s taking it easy on you, and you’re still losing. As he does so, he laughs in your ear. ‘Oh,’ he gasps, ‘she’s still got a little life in her,’ he laughs aloud, positioning the gun so your pointing it directly at Elias. ‘Didn’t he ever tell you not to aim guns at people?’ You grunt, driving your foot against his boot, feeling his grip falter for a moment. You attempt to move the gun upwards, your finger pressed against the trigger. Everything burns. Everything hurts. But you’re not going to stop, you’re going to kill this bastard even if it kills you.

Unfortunately he’s a scummy man, and as punishment for you stomping on his foot, he drives an elbow into your stomach, winding you.

Your hold falters- you almost fall to the floor- but he keeps you up on your feet, and through gritted teeth declares, ‘they could go off!’ His finger jams against your pressed against the trigger, a loud shot ringing in your ears. You watch a Elias throws his head to the side as a bullet drives through his chest. You fight against him harder, shaking your head. ‘That’s is!’ He grunts, ‘just a little more that way,’ he instructs you, forcing your hand further to the right. You actively pull away as the both of you fight against each other. Tears are running down your faces at that moment, every pull and tug driving the bullet in your stomach further and further.

‘Dammit, Rorke, STOP!’ Hesh begs.

‘Point it… at…’ another shot is fired, and Elias takes it with a grunt, 'your Captain.’

As though taking candy from a baby, he lets go of your hands, plucking it out of your sweaty grasp. Gunpowder invades your nostrils as he lets you go. Rookie mistake, you hear it in your head, but it isn't your voice. It's Keegan's.

You wobble on your feet, staggering backwards as your get your bearings. What you need to do is untie Logan who is right behind you, and then when he's distracted you can get to Hesh. Yet, as you step back and begin to move towards Logan, Rorke whips around to face you again driving the butt of the pistol into your face. It hits you with a crude thwack, a stoke of colour meeting your gaze as you fail to catch yourself, tumbling to the ground.

Logan screams out as you fall to the ground, and you tense as you brace for impact. You land with a thud, a broken cry escaping your lips when you feel the bullet lodge in your stomach dig further in.

The pain leaves you gasping an you clench your teeth as the room spins. Nausea spread through you as you lay there attempting to collect yourself, gulping back the urge to vomit. Resting your palm against the ground, you begin to attempt to pick yourself up. If you can just make it to Logan, you can make everything right.

Keeping your eyes trained on Elias, you watch as Rorke circles him as a shark did its pray. Both Hesh and Logan are calling you for you, the rattle of their chair thumping causing your ears to ring. Licking your dry lips, you tense when Rorke turns back to you, pointing the pistol in his hand directly at your head.

‘You got fire in you, kid,’ he breathlessly confesses, ‘I like that… risking your life to protect your Captain,’ he chuckles, leaning into Elias, pressing his finger against his chest. ‘You could learn something from her, Elias.’

‘She’s my daughter,’ he croaks.

‘Yeah,’ Rorke nods, glancing at you, ‘and she’s gonna get to watch you die. Her and your boys.'

Shot after shot is fired, every bang against you to witness as you grab your stomach, pressing down against the wound to keep yourself from losing more blood than necessary. You’re far too dazed to get up and fight against the man who saw the very life of your Captain as some sort of joke. So, you watch, helpless, as Rorke empties a clip into Elias.

‘No! No! Dad!’ Hesh cries. His face is red as he frashes against the ties keeping him from his father, the very sight making your headache. His tone is piercing as he carelessly spits out curses at the man before him. ‘I’ll kill you, you hear me?’ he screams, ‘I’ll kill you, you son of a bitch! I’m going to kill you! Motherfucker!’

The worlds a little blurry.

Your eyelids grow heavy, and when you force the open upon hearing a thud right in front of you, you’re surprised to see Elias’ face meters away from yours. You fight against the urge to drift off. You’re not going to die, you’re getting out of this and you’re seeing Keegan again- you can't die.

‘You did well,’ Elias breathes, looking at you. Your blood runs cold at the sight of blood seeping onto the ground, ‘I’m proud of you, you and my boys,’ he utters, wheezing for a single breath of air. His lips are blue as he stares at you, your eyes welling with tears as you're forced to watch as the man struggles for his last breaths.

Rorke’s boot is planted firmly on top of his head, and you catch your Captain glancing up at the man.

For the very first time, you see fear in his eyes. It's a dastardly look, mixing with the loss of blood in an unappealing manner as his face grows sickeningly pale. Something tells you that Elias Walker is scared of dying.

No Ghost is to be scared of death, that's not who we are.

But, we're scared of losing each other.

Elias Walker is scared of losing his family, of leaving them behind.

Rorke sighs, pushing his boot further down, leaning down to press the muzzle of the pistol against his forehead.

Keegan, please.

‘Oh… you are right, Elias,’ breathes the man, ‘I’m not a Ghost,’ he grins. There's a pause in his words, and you find yourself searching for some form of sickly hope that just in the nick of time, there will be a bullet in Rorke's head rather than Elias'.

Rorke remains tall and as he licks his thin lips and eyes Elias, you find a dismal pit in your stomach that you know you're never going to recover from.

‘I’m the man that hunts them, and sends them back to the other side.’

With that, he pulls the trigger.

You scrunch your eyes shut as you hear the rattle of the man's chest, a wet pray covering your face. Your lips form into a thin line as you choke out a broken sob, and when you bring your lips together again, the metallic taste of your Captains blood. Behind you, you can hear both Logan and Hesh sobbing, the anger the pair of the showed silently dissipated into grief.

The rustle of fabric in front of you unnerves you, and you attempt to turn away from Elias' corpse, letting out a startled breath when a shadow looms over you and you're grabbed.

'Leave her alone,' begs Logan, 'you got what you wanted. Leave her be... please.'

Rorke holds you in his arms like a child would a doll, and to your surprise, he guides you back into the chair you had jumped out from, forcing you back into it.

Standing back from the three of you, he rubs his mouth with his hand, his lips curling into a small grin as he hums to himself. 'Some talent is between you kids,' he says, 'real shame you're fighting the wrong side of this war, really, it is.'

—

Much to your pleasure, you find Merrick alive.

Despite your doubts prior, you knew well the man was capable of surviving. After the execution of Elias, Rorke left you with his soldiers and you, Hesh, Logan and Merrick were all forced onto your knees, kneeling on the balcony where the attack had first initially ensued. You’re unsure as to how much time had passed, but you were sure the wound was not getting any better as every time you shifted, you fell light headed.

The soldiers that had been observing you receive something on the radio, although, your entire body is hot and your ears are ringing, the memory of Elias’ face stuck in your head as you were forced to witness his death close and personal. You’re quite sure there is residue on of the crime on your face, so, you keep your head bowed, out of the way of both Logan and Hesh who look completely broken.

‘You alright?’ Logan whispers.

You’re shaking, but you nod your head.

‘Just Peachy, L, don’t worry about it,’ you utter, keeping your head down.

A shadow is cast over you and you catch sight of the boots of three soldiers.

‘The boss wants the girl alive,’ says one of them, causing you to snap your head upwards, looking at the three of them.

The one in the middle is pointing at you, marking you out of the crowd while the other two simply observe.

You feel dirty.

The man beside him nods his head, grabbing his pistol from his holster, aiming it at Hesh, while the other one approaches Logan, repeating the process.

It’s terribly calculated, killing both of the brothers, clearing the world of Elias once and for all at the same time. You keep your eyes trained on Hesh, eyes occasionally drifting to the window as you sit and wait. Planting the pistol firmly against Hesh’s head, you hear Logan grunt beside you. Hesh moves to the side, his forearms tensing, preparing for the shot. At the very last, they’re showing them mercy. They could have slit their throats, left them to drown in their own blood, yet, they’re making it easy.

One shot to the head.

Then you see him.

A small flicker of light in the distance.

The light at the end of the tunnel.

The glass shatters, the man holding the gun to Hesh’s head stumbling down onto his knees, his hand firmly planted against his chest. It all happens so fast, the man beside him stands dazed, looking at his colleague. Another shot is fired, going right through the mans skull. A spray of brain, blood and skull covers you as the man fulls forward.

‘HESH, LOGAN! NOW!’ Merrick demands, the pair of them jumping to their feet.

Logan shoves the guard to the ground, pulling him away from you while Hesh and Merrick rush two of two of the soldiers by the balcony. The awestruck soldier is left to you and you watch as he rushes forward, pulling the gun from the corpse of the dead soldier. Fortunately, Hesh manages to grab the rifle from off of the solider standing on the balcony, elbowing him in the stomach. Rushing up to you, he hits the back of the mans guns with the butt of the rifle, causing the man to fall to his knees. You watch with wide eyes as the solider attempts to rush up to him while Hesh fights with the other one.

Another shot is fired.

The soldier behind Hesh falls to the ground.

‘I got you! Go!’ Merrick yells as more shots are fired.

The rest of the soldiers standing behind are dropped. To the right of you, you hear a gunshot as you stand up, watching Logan push himself up from off of the ground, the blood of a Federation soldier soaking into his t-shirt as he steps over the corpse. Grabbing the pistol discarded on the ground, Logan quickly fires a shot through the head of the solider Hesh is fighting with. A bullet whizzes past you, and without a second thought, you snap around, firing two shots directly into a soldier to the right of you. There are more shots from the right of you, and when the final body drops, you exhale.

‘You okay, Merrick?’ Logan asks as Merrick unties the ropes around his wrists. ‘Rib’s broken, but I can move,’ he reassures, rushing up to Hesh.

Logan pulls himself free, immediately approaching you, ripping off the edge of his t-shirt. You watched with a furrowed brow as he eyes you.

‘Need to keep you from bleeding all over the place,’ he states, ‘c’mere,’ he instructs. You step forwards and he hands you the scrap from his t-shirt. Pressing it against the wound, you groan as he wraps the rope around you waist, trying it tightly around your waist. ‘Keegan’ll kill us if you lose a drop more blood… lost enough today too,’ he says, tying it tightly. ‘You still good to fight?’

‘Always,’ you say.

Holding his hand out, the pair of you bump fists and for the first time since this morning, you feel the dread swirling in your blood slowly coming to a stop.

‘We got to get going,’ Merrick sharply states, marching ahead of the free of you. Hesh follows after him. ‘Keegan, we’re up and moving, get here as soon as you can,’ he instructs.

You look at his back in surprise, your own hand falling to your ear piece realising thatchy hadn’t taken them off of you.

‘Check… I’ll meet you in the kitchen,’ confirms the voice you have missed so terribly.

You clear your throat, wincing as you proceed forward, following after Merrick. Part of you wants him to say something to you, to tell you that everything is going to be okay, but you understand that doing such would absolutely be irresponsible, so, you busy yourself listening to Merrick.

‘We need to make it to the west side of the building,’ he states, ‘it’s the best chance of getting out of here.’ You nod silently, taking a moment to take a breath. Everything was going to be fine, and in the end of this, you were going to have Rorke’s head in your hands. ‘You still good to fight, Eclipse?’

‘Always,’ you give a short nod, ‘bleedings calmed,’ you confirm, despite the burning causing you legs to wobble slightly. In due time it will be over, all of this ill be a distant memory. Just push on a little longer, that’s all you have to do.

‘Shh.. noise behind the door,’ Hesh warns as he approaches it, ‘lets make this quick.’

—

As you push through the room, you exhale when a voice calls, 'I'm almost there,' Keegan confirms as your brow furrows, a particularly step sending a shot of pain through your stomach up your back.

You clamp your mouth shut as you whimper, your dry mouth longing for a drop of water. Eventually, this will be over, you just had to stick to it. He's almost here, you just have to keep pushing on. That's the only thing you can do.

Just keep fighting.

'You better find a place to hide, though, lotta guys headed right to you,' he warns.

You want to complain upon hearing such, why can it never just be easy? Everything has to be difficult, no matter what you're doing, you can never just catch a break.

‘Key,’ you exhale seeing the man standing before you.

His hardened haze softens upon catching sight of you, and you waste no time rushing up to him, throwing your arms around him. While unprofessional, you feel no shame in confessing that you were going to die without him, and if anything, you were deserving of this moment. The hug you share is brief as he grabs your forearms checking you over.

He stops when he sees your stomach.

Merrick curses and falls to the ground, ‘shit,’ he hisses, attempting to push himself up off of the ground. As you look back to Keegan, the pair of you turn your attention towards the doors behind you, hearing voices edging closer and closer.

Grabbing you, he looks to Hesh and Logan, ‘get him up,’ he demands, gently guiding you into the room behind you. ‘We gotta hide, not gonna be able to take them,’ he states, pulling you to the side. ‘What the fuck happened?’ he whispers as Logan and Hesh quickly help Merrick inside the room.

You feel his hand against your stomach, wincing as he looks at you. The pressure on your stomach falters as he pulls his hand away, observing a wet patch in his gloves.

‘Got shot talking back to Rorke,’ you confess, and while you’re sure it’s something you certainly should not be proud of, you speak with a glowing tone as you look at him. Besides, he trained you all those years ago, why should you be ashamed?

'Logan thought fast, used the rope he tied us up with to try and stop the bleeding,’ you mumble. His gaze hardens as he looks at you, and you swear you can see his Adams apple bobbing beneath his mask. Gently he pushes you behind him, helping you to the ground. Looking over his shoulder, he reaches his hand behind him, squeezing your knee.

It’s so quiet, yet you feel as though your heart is going to burst.

You place your bloody, shaking hand over his and offer him a wavering smile. He takes it in for a moment before snapping back into action. His hand is pulled from your knee and you’re left alone.

'Turn that radio down,' Merrick hisses as Hesh helps him down

He hums as the doors burst open. Pushing you behind him, you all sit and watch as shadows pass you by.

And then the world begins to still. You're unable to describe just what it is you're feeling, although, despite the weight and severity of everything happening around you, you feel light as a feather. Your clothes are soaked at this point and in spite of your efforts, you find your breathing slowing as you lean against the wall.

Clumsily, you reach your had out to latch onto the floor as you feel an overwhelming drowsiness hit you. You've put in all the work and effort you can muster, yet, you've tried from it and as you wade through the mush of panicked voices and the thudding of your heartbeat in your ears, you succumb to your body's desperation and fully close your eyes, wading into the quiet of the stream.

#cod #call of duty #cod ghosts #cod keegan #keegan p russ #keegan russ x reader #keegan p russ x reader #keegan russ x you #cod x reader #ghosts #call of duty ghosts #call of duty x reader #cod x you #call of duty x you #cod ghosts x reader

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keegansgf · 1 year

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Omg I NEED a headcannon of Y/N shopping and Keegan accompanying 🤭 like his reaction to her trying on clothes, window shopping, enjoying herself at the mall, aaah so cute 🤭😭 things he can’t help but find cute, his thoughts seeing her be herself 🥺❤️

you silly geese of anons are just like me and you don't even know it

pairing: Keegan P. Russ x reader

tags: fluff, shopping hcs, girly y/n being y/n

A/N: I was shoe shopping when this came in, so perfect timing! I'm SOOOOO pissed that Versace has the cutest pink platform heels that I can't afford. Steve Madden dupe is gonna do it for me though <3

He didn't have anything to do and he doesn't like sitting around for long periods of time.

Bad things can happen in a large place. You being alone at a large mall doesn't help his anxiety.

You look cute shopping all dressed up and everything, despite how underdressed he is.

He looks so… out of place. You dragged him into a makeup store and all he can really do is hold your hand and look at the things you liked but didn't get. He'll remember those items for a gift idea in the future. Just so you don't make him feel too bored, you ask him if a shade of lipgloss looks cute on you or which blush fits your skin better. He knows nothing about makeup, so he thinks almost anything compliments your face. He's happy to see you excited over a product restock that you wanted though. If he had to have a favorite makeup product on you, it's probably mascara. You have the prettiest eyes. Mascara just brings attention to them.

Walking from store to store is literally like watching a sweet girl walking a big, vicious dog. No one bothers either of you, hes just wayyy too intimidating. A strong six foot tall man with the most cold, dead eyes following you around is your key to walking places just fine though! But he's always close walking with you regardless.

He's normally in the dressing room with you, just not in a sexual way. The only time he waits outside is if the dressing room has a curtain for a door; they make him annoyed with the lack of security.

He's usually on his phone waiting for you to get changed, only looking at you early if you need help with a zipper or something (You never ask him for help with those, unless if there's a hidden zipper he didn't notice. He mentally goes over what items you picked up so he knows what you'll need help with.)

Keegan get's so fuzzy whenever you fall in love with a piece of clothing. Your little smiles and resistance to take off the item is so sweet. It's even cuter seeing you wear it the next day.

If there's a nice mens section in a store, you always look for something Keegan would look good in. Normally they're just shirts that fit him nicely because that's what he's comfortable in, but being on your mind is enough for him.

Shoe shopping is probably where you get the most stares, mostly because you're a cute couple. A military man helping a gorgeous woman into the girliest pair of heels is certainly a sight. Keegan seeing you looking down at your feet while testing out a nice pair of shoes and genuinley enjoying yourself triggers the biggest need to hug you. How did he get with someone this beautiful with the most adorable mannerisms.

If you don't feel like going inside of a shop but walked past it with interest, he's going back in his free time to see what you might like. Your favorite dresses come out of his trips alone.

The heavy bags go to him. There's no arguing with him about it, he knows which bags are heavier.

#keegan p russ #keegan p russ x reader #keegan x reader #keegan p. russ x reader #cod ghosts #cod ghosts x reader #call of duty ghosts #call of duty #fluff

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luboy7rt · 2 months

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How I Think Team GHOSTS Characters Might Hug (GN- Headcanons)

(Please remember, these are only my headcanons of how I think these characters would hug) (Mostly platonic, can be seen as romantic)

Elias Walker

- Elias has a dad hug, his arms would tightly wrap around your sides and he would lean back so you could put all your weight onto him.

- Safest man to hug, he wouldn't judge if you cling onto him or half-ass the hug.

- Elias's hugs are firm, and he would gently rub the back of your head, back, or neck during a hug.

- One of his forearms would be on your back while his other arm is firmly hooked under your shoulder so his hand could rest on the back of it.

- Elias would gently squeeze when hugging you, like he would to his two sons, he would hug your head gently and if you are close he would kiss the top of your head.

- He would gently knead between your shoulder blades as he would ask about your day, and if you wanted silence? That would be just fine with Elias.

- If you express you want the hug to be a certain way, he would be willing to hug you how you want to be hugged.

- Elias is quite warm and wouldn't mind sharing the warmth

- He would chuckle if you ask for a hug and open his arms for you.

- He's an amazing comfort person, always willing to listen and give good advice, and he would hug you while doing it, offering physical comfort and soft words.

David ‘Hesh’ Walker

- Hesh's hugs are quite firm, and tight, quite like his father. Hesh has gotten used to the way Elias has treated him through his whole life and has subconsciously adapted to have Elias’s traits.

- Hesh would rub your back as you both hug, like a weighted blanket he would practically squeeze you very tightly.

- If You two don't know each other well, he would give a firm side hug, it wouldn't be awkward but it wouldn't be that comfortable either, he would be polite about it though.

- Hesh would wrap his arms around your waist or shoulders, and pull you close to his side or chest and hug you tightly, patting the back of your head or shoulders a handful of times.

- Hesh would squeeze you a few times before letting go of the hug.

- Hesh would accidentally dig his chin into your head or shoulder, trying to find the perfect spot to half bury his face into it.

- He is also quite warm like his father, willing to share it if you ask, he would tease you but would give in and give you a side hug and pull you into his side.

- He would tell a few jokes during the hug, just to hear your laughter, will snort or snicker at all his own jokes.

Logan Walker

- Logan is a bit of an awkward hugger, he isn't the best at it, but tries to mimic the way Hesh hugs people.

- Logan's hugs are quite tight, gently rubbing the back of your head or neck gently as he closes his eyes to simply relax into the hug.

- If you don't know each other well, you will get an awkward side hug, he would shuffle his feet a bit to avoid stepping on yours as he leaned in for a split second before letting go and patting your shoulder.

- Logan would let out a quiet sigh of content if you both have a close relationship, he would rest his jaw on the top of your head or shoulder as he would simply relax for the first time in a long time.

- Logan tends to mimic the way Hesh hugs people, over the years Logan had only really hugged Hesh and Elias, so he picked up the way they both hug.

- Logan's hold is tight and protective, his hold makes people feel quite safe, and he might accidentally squeeze too hard.

- He isn't the type of guy to make the first move, he would wait until you go up to him, if you hug him first, he wouldn't fight it, he would simply return the hug.

- Logan would gently pick at your sleeve, rubbing the fabric between his fingers.

- He likes to hug you from behind, especially when you don't notice him at first, he'd dig his chin into your shoulder and chuckle quietly if he scares you.

- Unlike his father and brother, he is actually quite cold, he usually has to lean into Hesh's side for warmth whenever he got to cold. If you are warm, the hugs will be fine, but if you are cold? You both are practically shivering together in a hug.

Keegan Russ

- Keegan gives a decent firm hug, he wouldn't give them out often, but he would hold the back of your neck and hold you close so your head would be buried into his shoulder or resting on top of it.

- He wouldn't utter a word during the hug, he just pulls in close for a quick bit then pulls away.

- He would hide his face into the top of your head or bury his face into the side of your neck during the hug.

- If you don't know each other well, he sets a bit annoyed with hugs, will push you away.

- He would also hug you from behind if he just wants a hug. Where he would rest his elbows on the top of your shoulders and hold his own wrist and boredly stand there. If you question him, no you don't, he would flick your forehead and walk off and not give you an answer.

- Always quick hugs, he doesn't hug anyone for long.

- Semi-Aggressive shoulder pats once the hug is over, then he would just walk off like nothing even happened.

- He isn't cold or hot, he has a good warm temperature, he's practically perfect to hug.

Merrick

- He is a bear hugger, tight hugs, he wouldn't give you much of a choice on the hug.

- Merrick expresses his emotions through physical touch, he isn't one to speak his mind on something he likes.

- He pats you alot. Shoulder pats, head pats, backpats.

- If you aren't that close, he would give you a side hug, patting your shoulder as he would give a quick hug before walking off.

- If you are close, his hugs suddenly get tighter and closer, gently holding the back of your head or your back to allow himself to embrace you close.

- His feet would be planted on either side of yours as held you, letting out a sigh of content.

- After missions he would go in for a handshake then pull you into a hug then pull away after a bit.. and just walk off to go take a sleep.

- He is to hot, his temperature is abnormally hot, you will be sweating if you hug him to long.

Kick

- Kick would wrap his arms around your torso, or rest his hands on your hips as he would mutter out a few incoherent tried words as he would lean his cheek to rest on top of your head or shoulder.. he would hold your hand while hugging you.

- Kick would grab your hand and put It behind your own back so he could leave his hand on your back but also be able to hold your hand.

- His gloved thumb would gently rub over your knuckles as he would try to relax into the hug.

- A good hugger, as he would slump a bit of his weight onto you

- He would pat your hand before letting go.

- He is quite cold, and if he ever removes his gloves, he would startle you with how cold he is, he would appreciate if you warmed him up.

Riley (yes, the dog)

- Good boy, would lay by your feet when You are sat around him or would stand between your feet looking out for any threat.

- If You allow it, he would jump on you for a hug, he would bark and huff for pets when not working.

- He usually is right by Hesh's side on missions but when back at HQ, Riley will run around the base looking for you so you two could cuddle or maybe he's using you for free pets and attention, who knows.

#fanfiction #Cod Ghosts x Reader #David Hesh Walker #Logan Walker #Elias Walker #Keegan Russ #call of duty ghosts headcanons #thomas merrick #cod ghosts headcanons #Elias Walker Headcanons #Logan Walker Headcanons #David Hesh Walker Headcanons #Thomas Merrick Headcanons #Keegan Russ x gn reader #Thomas Merrick x gn reader #Logan Walker x gn reader #David Hesh Walker x gn reader

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yawnderu · 7 months

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Showtime — Keegan P. Russ x Reader

Kinktober day 4: Uniform kink

They don't hate each other I promise

CW: hate sex, hardcore, scratching, dirty talk, manhandling, creampie, just. Pure filth

"Fucking stay still." Keegan mutters between clenched teeth, trying to get you to stop fucking yourself on his dick. It was ruining the rhythm he set on his thrusts, and while any other time he would have enjoyed it, it ruined his orgasm three times already.

"Fuck you." You retort back, making him take a deep breath and wonder for a second if he should just pull out and jerk off instead of dealing with you. He shakes his head, grabbing your hips again and slamming himself all the way back inside in one thrust, basking in your loud moan before he pulled out again. Big, gloved hands pull you by the ankles as he swiftly puts you on your back, his hands folding your legs up with ease as he slams himself back in, quickly setting a punishing rhythm.

"Wanna act like a bitch? I'll fucking treat you like one." His voice is deeper and more raw, eyes shut as he holds your legs even closer to your body, the way your tight cunt is swallowing him up like nothing is making him go nuts. One of his gloved hands goes to hold the top of your head, angling it up so you can see his stupidly large dick fuck into you.

"Takin' me like nothing... how many dicks have been in this sweet cunt, hm? How many from the Ghosts?" He's simply trying to get in your head and he knows it's working by the way your half-lidded eyes open simply to glare up at him, a small frown forming on your lips as you refuse to answer.

"None of... your fucking business." Damn him and his massive cock, stretching your wet cunt out with ease as he pounds you into the mattress, using your own body to drive himself impossibly deeper inside you. The tip of his dick keeps slamming into the entrance of your abused womb, making a mix of pain and pleasure to shoot up in your body with every single deep thrust.

"The whole squad, huh?" He asked with a small, deep laugh, and you know him well enough to be able to tell he has a shit-eating grin under his skull balaclava. He lowers his body into you, arms wrapping around your waist as he hammers his thick shaft inside you, the lewd sounds of your squelching cunt and your combined moans are bouncing off the walls of the safehouse. You're mentally glad none of the other Ghosts are here yet, listening to your slutty, needy moans as Keegan uses your tiny cunt to jerk himself off.

"Maybe." You confess jokingly, though you're trying to make it seem like it's true. You've seen the way Keegan becomes possessive over you before, and you can see it now, as his light blue eyes narrow before he slams into you deeper and harder than before, his breath hot and labored right in your ear.

"Fucking slut." He says with a breathy chuckle, the way your squelching cunt is leaking all over the crotch of his uniform while you swallow him up is giving him the chance to ignore the way his heart strings get pulled at the thought of you with anyone else. His gloved hands hold the back of your knees, pulling them to your chest until you whine out. He thrashes inside you a few times before his arms wrap under the back of your knees, pulling you up with him.

"Hold on tight." Your arms immediately wrap around his neck when he lifts you up, wincing softly at the way his tactical vest is rubbing against your sensitive nipples. He moves your body up and down his dick slowly, hissing once your patience runs out and your nails scratch the only place uncovered by his uniform— the back of his neck.

"Bitch." He barks out, arms now wrapped around your waist as he begins to slam back into you, masked face hidden on the nape of your neck as he moans lowly, trying his best to fuck you as hard as he can despite his vest getting in the way. One of your hands holds onto his vest for support from his animalistic thrusts and he throws his head back, feeling the way your cunt clenches around him is already driving him over the edge.

"I'm not pulling out." He warns, as if he didn't have you begging for him to cum inside you every single time you've fucked. You simply nod your head, eyes closed as you feel the knot on your stomach coming undone, your orgasm hitting you like a tidal wave at the same time Keegan is milked, letting out a deep groan right into your ear while your greedy womb gladly takes his cum, filling you to the brim with his seed just as he had done so many times in the past. He holds you close to him and you don't register his balaclava is pulled over half of his face until you feel his lips gently kissing your neck.

"Attagirl."

#cod keegan #keegan p russ #keegan x reader #keegan russ #call of duty ghosts #cod ghost #cod x reader #cod ghosts x reader #keegan x you #keegan russ x reader #keegan russ smut #smut #kinktober

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 8 months

Note

Hello! May I request a reader x Keegan drabble where the reader is an artist in secret?

Sure, they roam the wake of no mans land in a ravaging war, but in the moments they are not on missions they capture the scenery around them. Wether it be on rooftops, surrounding woods or abandoned shelters, the reader revels in the few moments of silence they have before another bombardment of bloodshed is thrown their way to remember places or things around them before they eventually move again

How would Keegan react, let alone if he caught reader sketching him?

Thank you for your time, have a good day :D

—Paint The Dawn; Paint My Eyes

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [In the midst of war and death, there's little time for pleasure. All you had was a ripped-up sketchbook to call your own, its contents littered with the rough face of your comrade.] ❞

The camp is quiet, and you are tired.

Looking out along the wreckage of this wasted world, there seems to be no end to the broken valleys or the craters of rock—this desolation remains as if an angry God had thrown a tantrum, and smashed the earth to bits. Trees grew sideways, wreckage that could be bits of houses or even remnants of bone breed in the little spaces under moss and bush; where the rest died, nature took back what was hers. Thus, the cycle continued.

What breathes, dies, and with that firm and undisputable reality, you find beauty in moments like these.

You blink down at what still breathes of the patchwork lungs of No Man’s Land, pencil in your hand still for but a moment of red-eyed concentration. The deer was down in the dip below the Ghosts’ quiet camp for the steadily growing night—white where it should be a tawny-blonde shade. Barely breathing, you watch with half of its albino form sketched out in short bursts of graphite on your sun-bleached possession.

A sketchbook, old, and worn to the very binding of its pages, and yet to you a more prized possession had never been held in your grip.

So focused on the deer and its white shadow; its lithe body as it grazes along the forest floor amidst a soft rustling of leaves, you don’t notice the man behind you—a man supposed to be sleeping.

It’s a minute of looking at your awe-filled face before Keegan clears his throat, speaking in a low grumble. “Not every day you see that, huh?”

You startle back so quickly that your pencil slips out of your hand, bouncing off your thighs before clattering to the flat rock that serves as your lookout platform. A clink of metal on stone is all it takes, the pencil falling down into the lower land and striking through greenery as you gasp and snap your eyes away. The flighty heart of the deer all at once sparked in a puff of air from its nostrils and a flair of a raised tail.

It disappears into the bushes and its white flash is seen until the thick foliage swallows it again. You look back just in time to grace your eyes with one last glimpse.

A deep disappointment blooms and you level out a sigh as Keegan clicks his tongue, guiltily rubbing a hand on the back of his neck.

“Shit, Sweetheart,” he hums, “didn’t mean to…” Keegan tapers off with a low groan. “I’ll, uh, get you a new pencil when we’re back, yeah?”

You stare at the forest a moment longer before huffing out and shifting—you turn and glance at the Sergeant before grumbling out, “You have a nasty habit of sneaking up on people, Russ. I don’t like it when it’s me.”

Blue eyes meet yours, his body still in gear and armed just like yours. Even sleeping, Ghosts bore the fangs of the living. Keegan’s face is down a mask, though, so you’re privy to see his built jaw and strong features in the moonlight. Black hair like a void.

He sighs.

“Again, didn’t mean to. Thought you knew I was there.” Your eyes roll, but a small smirk snaps your lip.

“Of course you did.” Huffing and shaking his head, the man comes to lean against your rock.

“What ya workin’ on anyways? Seen you scribblin’ in that thing every chance you get. Got curious enough tonight to ask when I saw you up during Ajax’s watch.” He blinks at you, swirling with curiosity and dim intrigue. “You take over for him?”

You smile, shrugging. “Maybe.” Keegan stares and raises a dark brow as your form leans closer, presenting your object of patience and smudged graphite. “You gonna wake him up?”

The man takes the object and studies your half-finished work with an acute eye, taking in the lines and erased bits that indent the paper. He tilts his head at it and a moment later he grunts an answer, lost in thought.

“Depends.” Blue meets your vision in a slow sweep. “You tired?”

Face burning, you clear your throat and begin to stutter a negative before the worst moment of your life takes place.

Keegan grabs one page of your sketchbook and starts flipping. Heart lurching and eyes wrenching open to the size of dinner plates, your hand snatches at the old cover—but not before the damage is done.

The dead-gazed Sergeant locks onto a perfect image of his own sleeping body from hours earlier. Drawn face soft and calm in the gray of blended material that you’d had to use your finger to achieve, and limbs loose; he almost seemed to come off the page in an intensive display of detail.

Keegan pauses and feels his jaw slightly slacken, eyes going that bit wider before his brows lift in shocked pleasure. Your hand latches onto the top of your book and rips it from the man’s grasp easily.

“Did anyone ever tell you it’s rude to go through people’s things?!” Your heart is racing, palms going clammy. At your chest, you hold your belonging with a tight scoff of embarrassment.

Keegan’s lids move up and down three times in quick succession before he replies. A tease is so deep in his words you cringe with a burning face.

“Anyone tell you it’s rude to watch people sleep, Sweetheart?” Glaring, you have to look away.

It wasn’t exactly common knowledge to others that you liked the gruff man, but if anyone took one look into your sketchbook they’d know the truth. Pages were dedicated to finding the perfect slant of his eyes—that structure of his jaw and his broken-one-to-many-times nose.

His lips and how his skin looked when he smirked.

Shame tightens your face and you stare hard at the trees a few feet away; the sleeping forms of your comrades. Until a smooth chuckle leaves you breathless.

A puff of air spreads over your cheek but you don’t dare turn your head.

Keegan whispers to you slowly, that gravel in his tone and his lips brushing against your ear as he leans closer to you—arms crossed in front of him.

“If you wanted me to pose there, Doll, all you had to do was ask me. No use watchin’ from a distance…I’ll give you the full tour.”

He walks off back to his mat of leaves and grass and you’re left gaping and choking on your own thoughts; honied vision dripping shock.

Keegan calls easily over his shoulder as if his comment hadn’t made your pulse pound, “I’m waking up Ajax—go back to bed. Scenery’ll be the same come morning.”

You breathe in his sly quip, “trust me.”

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @waves-against-a-cliff, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

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writingwarden · 5 months

Note

hii! i saw your recent story about logan walker and am like on a logan rampage rn lol, do you think you can write something where reader is captured with logan (they are in a relationship) and basically while they are in there reader is in worse condition than him and he protects her the whole time, and they eventually get rescued together? Love your writing and if this isnt possible thats totally fine no worries

I am also on a Logan Rampage, he's so underrated! Well, you know what they say, "If you want something done you got to do it yourself!"

Logan Walker x Reader

Tw- Near death experience, torture, canon typical violence, Drugging, Angst, Coming to terms with one's own mortality, previously established relationship, slightly inaccurate medical knowledge.

Word Count- 2k

Summary- It would take a miracle to get out of this alive.

[Call Sign- Weaver]

The cell door slides open, the horrible screeching of the hinges warning you of the pain and ridicule to come. You stayed curled up on the cold concrete floor as Rorke’s boots appeared in your blurred vision.

How long have you been in this cell? How long had it been since he dragged you and Logan from that beach? You had lost count after the first week, too focused on not letting the man break you.

Rough hands grab under your shoulders, you knew what was about to happen and if you had the energy you would have cried. Frustration clipped at the edges of the deep bone tiredness you felt now. Day after day Rorke tortured you and Logan, trying to break you until you were nothing. Both of you had fought in the beginning, not willing to go down without a fight. But Rorke is very good at what he does. He tried to use you two against each other once he found out you were together. Beating on one of you while the other was being held back, helpless to do anything. Drugging you with hallucinogens and leaving you writhing on the ground trapped in your mind.

A calloused hand gripped harshly under your chin, forcing you to look at the monster standing in front of you. Rorke tilted your head back and forth, a mocking sneer as he let go of your face. “Not dead yet?” he asks in an almost giddy tone. Like this was the funniest thing he has ever seen.

The deep red scratch marks across his face and down his throat had scabbed over since the last time he had taunted Logan with you as the bait. Rorke had been stupid enough to believe Logan had no strength left and didn’t bother tying him down to the chair as the “Ghost Killer” burned the hot end of a cigar into your skin.

The searing heat of the cigar had you weakly flinching as Rorke pressed it into your skin. “You know,” the man started, gesturing at Logan who sat slumped in a chair across from you, “These are nice cigars. You want one?” He offers the cigar to Logan. Your lover gives no reaction to Rorke’s offer, instead staring straight ahead at you. His gaze was unyielding but not all there.

Rorke laughs, turning back to face you. “How rude.” He slams the cigar into your collarbone, causing you to jerk violently in your chair, a pained high pitched whine from your throat. That sound was a trigger, Logan launching himself from his chair and slamming his weight onto Rorke, wrapping his hands around the man's throat.

It didn’t take much for Rorke to push Logan off of him, but not before Logan dragged his hand down Rorke’s cheek and throat. Angry red lines forming as blood blooms out of them.

The lack of answer from you doesn’t seem to bother him as he nods at the guards holding you upright. They start walking, dragging your body along with them down the hall. You know where they are taking you, having memorized every step of this walk to the other end of the cell block. To the one that Logan was being held in. Barely conscious as the door opens and you’re tossed forward onto the ground like a doll discarded by a child throwing a tantrum.

Letting out a pained groan as your body collides with the ground, the bleeding wounds on your abdomen catching fire with the movement. Infection was surely in your veins. The door slams shut with a loud bang and the sound of keys jingling as the door is locked. Rorke chuckles, “It’s only fair you get to watch her die. Enjoy the last moments together, lovebirds.” Then his footsteps are walking away.

There is more movement in the cell, then Logan’s hands are on you, pulling you weakly against his own body. With a solid thud Logan falls back against the wall with you now laying half in his lap. His breaths are short and rapid. Slowly he brings his hand up to your head, cradling you like a lifeline.

Rorke was right. You didn’t have much time left and your body knew. It would take a miracle for you to survive this. Against everything you had been taught or had thought, all hope of a rescue had been squished. A small part in your broken body pangs with dull pain at the thought. You had held out hope that the Ghosts would rescue you from this cold hell. But who were you fooling? The last sight you had seen before waking up here had been Hesh, lying against a rock. His blood spilling onto the sand as you and Logan were dragged away.

The Federation now in shambles would leave your teammates with bigger problems. So now you were dying but at least Logan was here. It is cruel but you wouldn’t mind if he was the last thing you saw in this life.

Death was a concept you had come to terms with nearly ten years prior. Life had been ripped out from under your feet. You knew even then as you enlisted that you would die on the killing field. And that had been perfectly fine in your eyes, your life would have meaning in this apocalyptic war. The prospect of your own demise was simply a fact in your mind. That was until Logan had literally fallen into your life.

The small cliff provided minimum shelter from the unforgiving rays of the sun. Pulling a cigarette from its pack you sigh. Outside the wall patrol was almost always boring. Sometimes broken up by the occasional person/s seeking shelter inside the wall or scavengers. As you looked down to light the cigarette in your hand a loud thump and startled cry from a man falling off the cliff you sat under. Your gun in your hands and pointed upright in a second. Recognition of the same uniform you wore is what had you lowering the gun slightly.

The man looked up at you, he was young and looked embarrassed. As you were going to ask if he was alright a dog's bark comes from above you. Said dog jumps down next to the man and sniffs at him before turning, a low growl from the creature.

You watch the dog as you ask if he was alright. The man sits up, the patch on the front of his armor read “Walker”. You recognized the name right away. This must be one of Elias Walker’s boys.

“Logan!” Another man’s voice rings out. You lower your gun and step forward, extending your hand to help Logan up onto his feet. His grip is solid against your own as he stands up. Once you were sure he wasn’t going to fall over you let go and turned your head to call out “He’s down here.”

Another man appears on the cliff but this one wastes no time jumping down. This one was taller than Logan but sported the same last name. This one must be “Hesh” the eldest Walker brother. He still had on a beanie despite the heat.

You watch as Hesh checks on Logan, fussing around with his armor. Logan smacked Hesh’s arm and started moving his hands. Sign Language? Hesh finally looks at you and a wide grin forms on his face. He steps forward and laughs, “Sorry about that. I’m Hesh and that clumsy one is Logan.”

You look at them, amused, “Weaver.”

It had been history after that and somehow you wound up falling for the youngest Walker brother. You both clicked and your knowledge of basic sign language had made him more inclined to talk to you. And when Elias felt the need to bring his sons onto the team of Ghosts, he dragged you along. Maybe you would see him when you crossed into the afterlife.

Logan’s head rested on the top of yours. His heartbeat lulls you into a calmer state. Everything in you screamed to stay awake but your eyelids felt like they were made of stone.

The loud pops of a gun being fired jerk you from your hazed state. Looking up just in time to see the guards outside the cell door collapse like ragdolls. Blood splattered on the wall and ground next to them. Logan curls around you, blocking your body with his.

A few more shots fire and then there's the sound of boots hitting the ground running. “Logan! Weaver!” The names make both of you go rigid. Turning your head to look at the door reveals the tall frame of Hesh.

His eyes are frantic as he takes in the sight of you two. The sound of keys and the door being unlocked. The door slams open as Hesh barrels into the cell. Hurriedly he reaches up and calls into his radio, “I’ve got them, B block!” Hesh shoulders his rifle and reaches out, his hand cradling Logan's face. Logan looks like he’s in shock but he finds the strength to shove you into Hesh.

Another pair of footsteps come bounding down the hallway as Hesh hurriedly looks for the source of your blood, which is seeping into his clothes. They stop in front of the cell, a flurry of curses only Keegan was capable of spoken into the air. Keegan looms over you and the Walker brothers.

It is then that you are gently taken out of Hesh’s hold, now held against Keegan’s chest. In the corner of your eye Hesh is pulling Logan onto his back and standing. Keegan’s arms are steady as he carries you out of the cell. Logan is slumped over unconscious on Hesh’s back as he walks in front of you, pistol drawn.

The hike through the compound and to the evac is not easy. Federation stragglers ran everywhere. Several times despite your body’s protests, does Keegan have to sit you down to return fire. Despite the torment that is being moved and jostled around you manage to stay awake until the team reaches the trucks. Haphazardly being placed in the backseat of a truck, it is there that sleep finds you. The rock of the trucks through rough terrain is enough to lull you into a merciful unconsciousness.

The steady beeping of the vitals monitor draws you from your sleep. A week of medically induced comas, surgeries, and constant monitoring had flown by. The infection is well on its way out of your system. Well, on its way out of both of your systems. Logan hadn’t been much better than you but he was lucky (unlucky?) enough to not have needed to be put into sleep.

His own hospital bed sat only a foot away from yours on the left. His face was a picture of calm as he slept. It was late but sleep evades you. Skin still feels raw from the antibacterial soaps they used to keep the outer infections at bay.

The window across from you had its curtains drawn back. A steady rain that should have been comforting droning on against the glass. Instead the storm only served as a baying hound, the noise loud. Thunder and the occasional lightning to keep you company.

You both had plenty of visitors as soon as the doctors had deemed you stable enough to have them. Hesh was the first, later Keegan and Merrick would tell you that he had been waiting outside the door for the all clear. Then it was your old squad and eventually your civilian friends. But it was after hours now, Hesh having gone because he had been assigned the night watch.

Looking back over at Logan you feel your heart ache. You want nothing more than to crawl next to him, to feel his warmth. But you can’t, the copious amount of IV’s and monitors stuck to the both of you prevented much. Settling for reaching across the gap and resting your hand over his.

So you sit and you watch the rise and fall of his chest, and you breathe a sigh of relief. Things would get better. Rorke is now dead for good thanks to Hesh’s bullets. The federation is scrambled in the mud.

Things will be alright.

[Hope you enjoyed! Find the rest of my call of duty works HERE! Let me know what you think!]

#logan walker #call of duty fanfic #logan walker x reader #call of duty fanfiction #call of duty #call of duty ghosts x reader #call of duty ghosts #cod #cod ghosts #cod ghosts x reader #cod hesh #david hesh walker #keegan p russ #cod merrick #call of duty angst #cod fanfic

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wjehfshs · 8 months

Text

Keegan and Logan relationship HCs both fluffy and smutty bc I’m on a kick for them rn (seperate)

This is gonna contain NSFW, also don’t ask me why I put hello kitty as the GIF I just felt like it

Keegan

Sfw:

I think everyone can agree this man’s cuddly

I saw someone hc (I can’t remember who) that he bites affectionately

Like will just bite your shoulder or smth

Also he rides a motorcycle (he’s better at driving it than a car, thankfully), and he loves to take you on rides at night for a date

First getting with him you probably had to confess, look he’s not insecure or anxious it’s just that he didn’t pick up on you liking him as well

Kinda just stood there after you asked him out like “😦”

“Kid stop messin’ with me it’s not funny”

“I’m not messing with you Keegan”

“Oh… Oh!” Got all excited internally but tried to keep that stoic demeanour

First time cuddling with him (which was probably right after you confessed) he lay on top of you, putting his full weight on you (if safe to do so ofc), and basically just melted, almost fell asleep if you didn’t have to get up to use the bathroom

Anytime before he has to go on a mission he’s extra cuddly, basically glued to you

And if you work day or night he’s devastated

Part of him wants to convince you to quit your job so he can have you all to himself when he’s home and he also makes very good money, but if you genuinely like your job/career. He’s supporting you 110% and won’t say anything

Will have you on his lap as he plays games or watches TV with you

If you also play games even better, sometimes he lets you win just to see you happy

But if you naturally beat him at a game where we didn’t let you win he’s all pouty and shit

Still can’t help but let his heart skip a beat when he sees you all excited, even if you’re rubbing your win in his face

If you have a cat, the cat and him are standoffish at first, kinda fighting for your attention but now they can’t be separated

Spends like a good 2 hours saying good bye to the cat before he is deployed

Falls asleep with it on his chest

If you have a dog he’s all over it immediately, treats it like it’s his childhood dog or smth

You catch him cuddling with the dog while watching TV, sometimes even falls asleep while watching and the dog just sits there with a smile on its face

Probably prefers big dogs but doesn’t mind either way

After he gets home from a mission no matter how long he was away, he’s hugging you, kissing you, and lifting you up in his arms in the middle of the airport like you haven’t seen each other in 5 years, doesn’t care if people are staring at all

If you get embarrassed he may tone it down a bit but he just can’t help himself

If you two get married/have a traditional wedding, he’s so impatient, just wants to kiss you

When he’s told he can he just wraps you in a bear hug and kisses you, he’s just so happy that he gets to be with you

If you don’t want to get married/don’t want a traditional wedding he’s also totally fine with that

Doesn’t care if you’re married or not, doesn’t care if the wedding is traditional or not he’s just so happy to be with you

Nsfw:

You two don’t make out for very long when you do because he’s also impatient in that area, can’t control himself sometimes he gets so worked up

He’s into some very kinky stuff (only with consent and very long talks from you two)

He also likes biting in the bedroom, if you aren’t ok with it he won’t draw blood or hurt you two bad but if you give him the ok, or even better want it, he’s having a field day

When he’s away he lives for phone sex with you

When domming he’s rough (unless you ask him not too or you’re more vanilla), but if either of you are having a bad day or smth he’s soft and very vanilla

When he’s having a bad day tho he prefers to sub, I think he’s pretty quiet when subbing, not for any particular reason, just is

Covers his mouth when subbing because even when being dommed he loves to hear you moan

Not above being pegged/anal

I’ve mentioned this in a couple of past posts but I fully believe that Keegan is a tit man

Doesn’t matter if they’re big, small, uneven, different sizes, covered in stretch marks, have hair, fake, or on a man HE. LOVES. TITS.

Will bury his head in them when cuddling and Will also occasionally cover them in hickeys

Also loves cumming all over them

If you don’t say otherwise, he’s all over them. You cannot detach this man from your boobs

If you’re insecure about them his mouth is not leaving them until you feel better

He would never admit this but he loves when you make him cum all over his clothes/in his pants

If you’re ok with it, he’ll do stuff like choking, spitting, specifically in your mouth/on your tongue, and the occasional ass slap (but remember consent is key guys)

He LOVES to eat you out, female genitalia or male genitalia he doesn’t care

Eye contact>>>

A bit of a dirty secret of his but he loves when you look away so he can hold your face and force you to look at him

Dirty talk dirty talk dirty talkkkkk

Oral fixation

Logan

Sfw:

He’s a bit of an anxious lover

Also less experienced than Keegan

He’s not clueless but you may have to guide him on some stuff

Very protective of you

Unlike Keegan, he can actually be trusted behind the wheel of a car

He prefers to show his love through acts of service

That’s not to say he doesn’t love any kind of affection giving or receiving

But there’s just something about being able to cook you breakfast while you’re asleep, taking care of you while you’re sick, and helping you pick out an outfit

Although I do have to admit he does also enjoy being taken care of

But he prefers to take care of you than be taken care of

Please cuddle this man likes he’s the most precious thing ever made, he needs it

He’s too embarrassed to admit it but he loved when you whisper and coo at him

And if you cuddle him while playing with his hair, this man is out COLD

But equally he loves when you fall asleep on top of him

I believe since he’s the youngest of the Walker family, he probably feels insecure about his strength so if you fall asleep wrapped in his arms it’ll make him feel big and strong

Cold days where you can cuddle with him>>>

His kisses are soft and calm

He was the one to confess, well kinda

Hesh did it for him

Hesh just kinda strolled up to you casually one day with Logan silently standing behind him

“Hey [name]! How are you? Cool cool. Anyways just letting you know Logan’s in love with you… bye!” And then he walks off leaving you and Logan alone

And it just went from there

Hesh wasn’t stupid, he knew you both liked each other but Logan wasn’t convinced

The only reason he let Hesh confess to you for him was because Hesh promised to treat him to a “sorry dinner” if he was wrong and you didn’t feel the same

Luckily Hesh was right

While Keegan is a biter, Logan is more of a licker

He won’t just randomly lick you like Keegan but he’ll probably kiss you somewhere and leave a little lick for shits and giggles

I do believe he’s selectively mute

So most of the time he doesn’t talk at all but I’m rare occasions he’ll whisper something to you and only you

Probably something like “baby I’m tired… can we go home?”

Or “I love you so so much”

It’s like a special treat just for you

He tries to take as many photos of you and the both of you together, prints it out, and takes the little photo with him on missions

Nsfw:

Prefers to soft dom

But either way he will absolutely destroy your insides as he kisses all up and down your torso

If he’s subbing, please crush this man’s head in between your thighs

Doesn’t matter if they’re thick, thin, fatty, muscly, whatever please just crush him

He wants to suffocate between them

He would happily die in between your legs

Also gets whiny when subbing

Jerk this man off while he whines and begs, bucking his hips up into your hands

Not really as kinky as Keegan but loves being rough or you being rough on him

Doesn’t matter if you have a dick yourself or use a strap on, he wants to deep throat it

Will bend you in half when fucking you

Especially when he’s close

If he’s feeling mean one day he will manhandle you

Flipping you from position to position on the bed, basically throwing you around like a rag doll

Sometimes he’ll wear his mask while you two will do it

Aftercare with him is top tier tho, kisses, maybe a bath or shower, food if you’re hungry, water, maybe even a hot chocolate

As I said earlier he loves to take care of you

Prefers things clean but does like cumming on your face

#cod x reader #cod #cod ghosts #cod ghosts x reader #cod ghosts smut #keegan russ x reader #Logan Walker x reader

364 notes · View notes

macravishedbymactavish · 10 months

Text

O N E S H O T S

G H O S T S

Near & Far // Unnamed Ghost x GN!Reader

L O G A N W A L K E R

Always Attract // Logan x F!Reader

D A V I D "H E S H" W A L K E R

I Don't Care if You're Contagious // Hesh x GN!Reader

In Sickness & In Health // Dad!Hesh x Mom!Reader

Checkmate // Hesh x GN!Reader

K E E G A N R U S S

Social Butterfly | Antisocial Moth // Keegan x GN!Reader

H E A D C A N O N S

3 pros & 3 cons of dating

Merrick

Hesh & Logan

Writing the characters personalities

Keegan

Merrick

Rorke

Logan

Miscellaneous Headcanons

Hugging

Ajax SFW

S E R I E S