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yawnderu · 5 months

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Attention — Keegan P. Russ x Fem!OC

Using my queens @moosch's OC Nameless for a trade we made! Go check out her amazing drawing of K-9 as an OC and her art<3

Life works in mysterious ways. One day you're helping kill 500 enemies with your bare hands alongside your comrades, and the next one, you're cuddling up to a tiny brat rescued from no man's land 3 years ago.

Keegan's hold tightened on her, hand running gently up and down on her back as she returned the favor, a much smaller hand tracing lazy circles on his back while they laid next to each other. It was one of the few moments of peace they could get, both as touch starved as they come and with a need to keep someone close.

His mind was blank for once, void of all the gunfire and images of the devastating non-stop war, simply focusing on what another person's warmth felt for once. His lips lightly touched her forehead as his eyes closed, taking a deep breath and holding onto her like a lifeline, making sure not to hurt her. It doesn't take long for Keegan to fall asleep, relaxation taking over his body before he realizes it.

He wakes up to an empty bed, eyebrows furrowing slightly at the realization that Nameless is no longer by his side. He gets out of bed hesitantly, stomach rumbling as he makes his way to the kitchen. A small smirk tugs on his lips as he sees Nameless struggle to get something out of the cabinet, approaching her before anyone else does.

''Hey there, little one... need help with getting this from the top shelf?'' She tenses up when his warm, big hand makes contact with her head, hesitantly turning around to look up at him. All he can do is offer him a smile so kind and nice that instantly makes red flags go off in her head, though she gives him the benefit of the doubt.

Keegan grabs the box she was trying to get, holding it close to her before pulling it out of her reach when she tries to grab it. His smirk grows wider when he sees the expression on her face, a slight grimace mixed in with frustration at his annoying behavior. He only relents once he sees the frown on her face as she she's about to turn around and go tell Elias he's bothering her again.

''Wait.'' The bastard was clearly holding back his laughter at the fuming expression on her face, a few chuckles managing to escape out of his lips even when he was trying not to.

''Here.'' He offered her the box and this time— despite the temptation— didn't pull it away. He noticed the fishing rod hanging over her shoulder and the stare she gave him for a few seconds before grabbing the box. He simply nodded his head, starting to get ready himself, a rifle thrown over his shoulder. What kind of man would he be if he's not there to protect the young girl? Bullshit, he just enjoys being annoying.

He grabbed a book on the way out, knowing he'd just let her fish in peace while he's keeping watch, making sure no enemies sneak on them despite the area being relatively safe.

''Let's go.'' She follows after him, staying quiet the entire walk and simply looking everywhere around her. The area was surrounded by nature, enough to give them privacy and cover in case anything goes down. They make their way to a lake Nameless found on one of her many expeditions, Keegan sitting down near the shoreline as he watches her remove her shoes, soaking her feet in the water.

''A young girl walked to the witness stand.'' He began reading, her attention now on him as she tilted her head, looking at the book he was reading. To Kill A Mockingbird.

''As she raised her hand and swore that the evidence she gave would be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help her God, she seemed somehow fragile-looking,'' He looked at her with a small smirk, making her roll her eyes and a small chuckle to leave his lips as she got knees-deep into the water, trying to find fish she could miraculously catch with her hands.

''but when she sat facing us in the witness chair she became what she was, a thick-bodied girl accustomed to strenuous labor.'' There's a small smile on his face as he reads to her, voice deep and leveled to make it more pleasant.

''In Maycomb County, it was easy to tell when someone bathed regularly, as opposed to yearly—'' He's interrupted by water splashing, baby blue eyes looking up just to see her holding a big carp in her hands, a bright smile on her face as she looked at it as proud as one could be.

''Attagirl!'' He put the book away, leaning closer to ruffle her hair despite her silent protest, a smile on his face matching hers. Not even Keegan being annoying on purpose could ruin her happiness at catching the damn thing on accident.

''C'mon, I'll cook it. Think you can catch another one?'' Keegan's annoying smirk was all the motivation she needed to take the challenge.

#call of duty ghosts keegan #keegan p russ #cod keegan #keegan russ x OC #keegan p. russ x fem!OC #art trade #call of duty #cod ghosts keegan #cod ghost #cod ghosts #keegan russ #keegan p. russ #cod ghosts oc #nameless oc

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mlmxreader · 1 year

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The Price Of a Mile | Keegan P Russ x m!reader

anonymous asked: “Without you, I’d be lost” with Keegan. The male reader gets hurt severely and is barely alive and Keegan comes to the realization that he loves them. When the male reader wakes up from their coma Keegan confesses his feelings to them.

summary: Keegan will go to great lengths to ensure the safety and security of a single man.

tws: graphic death, swearing, mentions of comas, hospitalisation, graphic depictions of war, gun violence

support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy

The land had been gutted, once flat fields now had great sloping wounds in them that were slick and slippery thanks to heavy shelling.

Fractured remains of tall trees were no bigger than coffee tables; rifles half buried in mud and debris where soldiers had abandoned them in favour of running. Boxes of personal items and ammunition lay abandoned at the edges of the wounds, many of them broken and burned. When many of the wounds filled with water, wooden bridges no more than two feet wide were laid across them.

Other trees were snapped in half, some had completely collapsed, none of them had any life - no thick branches that children and animals could climb on, no bushy emerald coloured leaves that would turn golden and brown in the colder months.

Wildlife had fled a long time ago.

Fences of barbed wire were left tangled near the wounds, and the stench of toxic gas still clung to the very air that soldiers breathed.

Tensions amongst soldiers had risen, friends at each other’s throats as they became jaded and desperate, wanting to know what they were fighting for but knowing they wouldn’t like the answer. A shot, a single bullet, had changed everything - Keegan’s friend, the only person he tried to protect, was down. The wound was almost as bad as the ones that had been inflicted upon the land.

He was more than desperate, when he watched medics take you away, desperation only growing when news came that you were in a camo and being treated in Yser. He disobeyed his commands, refused orders, and fought his way to you as best as he could. He saw horrors along the way, things no one should ever see. He paid more than the price of a mile.

Men’s faces melting and burning from toxic gas that flooded fields. Men clinging to their stomachs as their innards were torn out by barbed wire and bayonets. Limbs torn from bodies by shelling. Men drowning in rubble and debris as scarred lands were given new fresh wounds. Day or night, it was all the same, soldiers falling one by one, father and son alike - lives erased by commands.

Streets stained by blood that would never wash off; no man should have ever had to see such things, or even know of their existence; Ghosts were told to have no fear and to fight forward for glory, but all Keegan could feel was a hammering anxiety in the pit of his stomach.

Would he perish like that, too? Would he even make it to Yser without dying? Or would he be forgotten in the blood and rubble as another wasted life?

He had to be smart about how he travelled, moving between lines and in amongst enemy and foe alike,

He had to become a dog of war just to get there, although he knew that he would later regret it, he knew that he would later wish he had not even tried. He had to kill, he had to fight, and if it was necessary, he would die just to see you again; just to know that you were safe.

He didn’t want to live forever, anyway, especially without you.

Where dead men were lying, he had to pass through, looking into eyeless sockets and wishing that at least if he was going to die, it wouldn’t be like that; nameless graves littered every inch of scarred lands, the last respects paid to wasted lives. These men were promised greatness and glory, he knew that, he knew that those were the lies that were told to new recruits - more than anyone else, Keegan knew that the sacrifice was pointless.

He needed to keep marching, needed to get to Yser before his time was up; he knew it should have been beaten out of him during training, but he was still so full of fear. Stepping on the dead as he continued the long march; bullets wearing his name at every turn, becoming the very thing he swore he would never be.

He should have just stayed back and did what he was told to do, but he knew he couldn’t.

Yser was so far away, but Keegan didn’t stop until he collapsed at the hospital steps, doctors and nurses rushing to his side thinking he was one of the many dead and dying who needed their help.

“(y/n)...” he breathed out, wheezing from the remains of toxic gas still clogged in his throat. “(y/n) (y/l/n)... need… see… him…”

He was dragged into the hospital, dragged even further to your bedside; you were awake, glaring at him as he sat lifelessly in the scratchy olive green chair.

“You shouldn’t have come.”

“Needed…” Keegan grumbled, coughing and spitting out some discoloured phlegm onto a tissue. He caught his breath, and tried again, “I needed to.”

“No, you didn’t,” you said quietly. “I was in a fucking coma, I might never have woke up.”

He shook his head. “I said I’d protect you, no matter what… it was my fault you got shot, I wasn’t there to take the bullet.”

The sounds of machine guns weren’t far off, a soft thundering sound that made the room shake, mortars would soon join the symphony, more scarring on the wounded lands, more lives wasted; soldiers resting in holes would be blown to pieces without even realising it. Roads and houses, nothing remained. Men were suffering, men were dying for no reason, no purpose. A war paid for in the blood of men who didn’t even want to be there, many of them too young to even understand that the propaganda forced down their throats was wrong.

Keegan sighed. “The war’s coming closer. I should stay.”

“Keegan-”

“I’m staying.”

“Fine,” you huffed. “But if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were in love with me.”

Keegan grumbled, looking away from you as he scratched at his jaw; he didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to admit it for fear that the war would take you away from him and he would be… he would be alone and lost. He wouldn’t know what to do if you weren’t there. He shifted in his seat, chewing at the inside of his lip as he made it a point to look anywhere but at you.

Orange smears of blood still ghosted the white walls of the room, remnants of patients previously treated, the doctors and nurses too busy with treating friend and foe in order to clean properly; screams still smeared on the blue floor tiles that would echo for generations to come. But then… in that dark blue bed with the yellow blanket, you were laid there, safe and sound after all.

He was worse off from the journey, having seen things that no one should ever have to see, but he could ignore all of that swimming in his head and drowning his thoughts when he looked at you; daring to smile a little when you met his gaze.

“I love you too, y’know,” you told him softly. “You fucking walked all the way here, didn’t you?”

He nodded.

“You’re an idiot,” you said sternly. “You could’ve gotten shot, stabbed, choked on gas, fucking blown up by shells.”

“I know.”

“You’re too loyal,” you chastised, although the smile on your face was too much for him to ignore as he leaned over, gently placing his hand on your chest. “Keegan?”

“You're right," he spoke so quietly, so softly, like he was almost ashamed of what was about to leave his mouth. "I… I am in love with you."

"You made that clear enough," you replied, "you didn't need to come all the way here, though. The war… you could've gotten yourself killed, or worse - captured."

He shrugged. It was worth it to him, at least. "Without you, I'd be lost."

He got up, excused himself as he headed outside for a cigarette; the smoking area was just a small patio, but it was near the hospital graves. The one closest to him, a star of David, had a dragon on a green and white background to show where the dead man had come from; the name John was written on it, and as Keegan looked at it, he frowned.

Rain pittered and pattered against his head, wetting his black hair, but he didn't want to think about how cold he would feel when he got back inside; he didn't want to look up at the dark grey skies and see how they lit up with balls of white and yellow where planes were shot down. He didn't want to think about the war, not really.

He knew that you were safe now, but that wasn't enough for him; he needed to stay with you until the end. Even if it meant dying together when a bomb struck the hospital, he had to stay put. He pulled his phone out, seeing the texts and calls from Hesh that he had missed, and shook his head before shoving it back in his pocket.

He would stay.

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