Keegan Russ - Blog Posts

Watcher 1-1

Part TEN!!

Warnings!: The 141 will be criminally stupid, fumblers, all of them. Death (canon-typical), Violence (canon-typical), loss of limb (I will cover the symptoms as well as possible, but any and all corrections are welcome) They do get kissy, but no smut (that I'm writing, but it's very much implied).

Before you can tear Soap's throat out, you see your fucking savior appear.

Sarah.

Her tanned, sun-darkened skin is exactly what you've been missing, the neatly-done braids that you remember helping her put in sway as she walks toward you.

"Captain."

You call out flatly. She smiles, knowing damn well you're calming at the sight of her.

The dog at her side (technically, Hesh's dog, Riley) gives a soft noise of greeting before lightly pulling at his leash, requesting to be let go but knowing better. Well-trained, like you would expect from Hesh. He does good work.

You assume your place by Sarah's side as Riley trots over to Hesh's legs, sitting by his booted foot.

"Right, let's handle this properly, yes?"

Her voice is polite but firm as she looks at the other team, not even a little fondness residing in her dark eyes as she gazes at Price, on even ground with the Brit in a way you never were.

In a way you would never need to be, with her. With your team at your back.

"This is Hesh, my lieutenant, Newton, my second lieutenant, and Newton's sergeant, Keegan. Hesh handles Logan. If you have questions, address them to me."

You know Price is looking at you. You know all four of them are, in part. But you also don't care nearly enough to react to it with anything other than a slight scowl.

You don't offer much attention as Price introduces his men, but you do pause for the last one.

"This is Roach. He don't talk much, but he's good people."

The stupid little antennae bob when he waves excitedly, before making a gesture that you know.

He waves, and swipes his hands up from the bottom of his ribs, before presenting both to your team in a 'thumbs up' gesture

How are you, in British Sign Language.

"I'm good, Roach. I don't talk much either."

Your voice is accompanied by some of your old BSL–a bit rusty, no doubt, and a little muddied, because you've been using ASL as much as you can, to squeak by in the US–reaffirming to the masked man before you that you might be a little off, but he's got some company.

Roach jumps a little, before flapping his hands excitedly while trying to stay in place.

You hate to admit it, but it's kind of endearing to you. Reminds you of the way Keegan bounces up and down when he gets excited, or how Hesh fiddles with any little piece of string you give him.

Roach could be... he had potential.

You'd look into him more, in your free time.

He'll be interesting.

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Shorter chapter today, but it's more of a set-up for later shit, so get ready for the fecal matter to hit the fan, lovelies <3. Thank you for all the support today, it's been amazingly overwhelming to see :D

Watcher 1-1

Part Nine

Warnings!: The 141 will be criminally stupid, fumblers, all of them. Death (canon-typical), Violence (canon-typical), loss of limb (I will cover the symptoms as well as possible, but any and all corrections are welcome) They do get kissy, but no smut (that I'm writing, but it's very much implied).

There is something special about the barracks room you share with a man named Keegan Russ.

It doesn't lie in the construction, nor in the beds or how they're both unfortunately twin-size with terrible mattresses. It is so special to you because it is the very first space you've peacefully shared with someone you can comfortably admit to trusting.

Sure, temporarily, you're shared a room with Soap. Shortly before the... incident, you'd spent a good chunk of your time with Gaz. Still, you never quite felt like it was yours as much as it was his.

Back then, it had been something purely sensical. Of course the room didn't feel like it was yours, you've been here less than six months. Looking back, that feeling stung a good dose more.

It was a lucky night, in that neither you nor Keegan had suffered a nightmare. That just meant the thing to wake you was his alarm, blaring directly in your ear because Keegan always stole the part of the bed closest to the wall. You always let him have it.

The first thing you do is tiredly grab the bottle of lotion from the small nightstand, and sit yourself on the bed's edge, dispensing just enough into the warped, burned flesh of your palm.

If someone told you four years ago that you'd have to moisturize your stump first thing in the morning because it got dry overnight, you would have given them a really weird look.

Still, it's that motion that draws your favorite American to wakefulness. Every last time.

"Mhhngh, wh- oh."

Most of the time, Keegan just watches you get yourself ready. He'll pass you the compression "sock" that covers the stump that used to be your leg, gently kiss at your neck as you slip on your leg.

He used to talk more, but the quiet is good, too. It's simpler, and you struggle to speak in the mornings. Some complication or other, you're not sure. Smoke inhalation, you remember someone bringing up, in the early days.

Still, you can feel him shift behind you as you grab your prosthetic, and you feel two thick arms wrapping around your waist as he gently pecks your cheek, feels up on one of the few non-marred parts of your body.

"Hello to you too, Keegan."

The chuckle he gives you is worth the strain to your throat, and you can feel his cheeks rounding with a smile against the column of your throat.

There's a grateful hum that quickly turns into a soft grumble of annoyance as you rise on foot and fake limb, the younger still shrouded with blankets and drowsy. You've become accustomed to this.

"Already?"

"Yup."

Keegan groans again, but catches your hand in his own when you offer it, and hauls himself out of bed, rubbing the sleepy crust from the corners of his eyes and reaching to his clothes for the day.

"Thanks, Newton."

Your call sign drives a snort from you, and Keegan smiles when he hears it, though he doesn't react further, and a comfortable silence–broken on occasion by the soft rustling of clothes–settles between these sacred walls.

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

Of course, there are many parts to a morning, Keegan is not the only person you see anymore.

No, you do have people you... tolerate, now.

Maybe tolerate sounds rude. You do like Hesh and Logan, but in the mornings the younger really does test you.

At the very least, Keegan is the one who receives the brunt of that energy, as Hesh passes you the coffee.

"Real sweet, David, thank you."

The way the corners of his lips twitch up is enough to make you smile, too, and lean forward enough to press a little peck to his cheek.

It's always good to make sure everyone's in order before travel. You learned that from Sarah, and she'd hate to see you not living up to that.

Granted, she'll only be on the other side of the pond for another few hours, at the very most.

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

Maybe the only person you can admit to missing from your old task force is Nikolai.

The big Russian is someone you were only granted the honor of meeting once or twice, but he'd also never been a person that's entirely defied everything you were supposed to know about them.

Your last text from Nikolai isn't a scalding "fuck you". No, that's Soap. Bitch.

The slightly angered reverie is broken by Logan, with a strong, slightly knobby hand on your shoulder. Just a short tap, to bring you back into it.

You'll give him the credit, he knows how to handle people. Sometimes even Keegan misses a slip that's quiet like that.

"I'm here, kid."

He offers a lopsided smile at the curt response, goading you into giving him just a little more, Newton, c'mon. You humor him, this time.

"Thank you, Sergeant Walker, I commend your work for this team's morale."

You can't believe you ever used to confuse the brothers, when you watch Logan beam and puff his chest up a little at the lightest praise. Youngest child, to the very end of the line.

His mother must have been a hell of a woman, if Hesh was right about Logan being just like she used to be.

That tender thought must make you smile just a bit too wide, because he leans forward, and taps you on your nose.

"Told you I would get you to smile by the end of my first year."

"That-" He's pulling you into his traps, you almost said it didn't count. Why in god's name does Logan do to make everyone horse around like school-kids? No rational team would take this seriously "Fine, you win, Walker. Enjoy it."

He does, right up until the copper starts to land. This time, on British soil.

Your thanks are met with a phrase you can't quite parse, but you give the pilot a firm nod anyway.

Today's been good to you, even if the change in pressure has caused the phantom pain to spike. You take a moment longer to savor it before the second shoe drops.

Keegan's right there behind you, one more time, pressing his masked face into your neck so you know precisely who it is.

"You know we'll all have you, right?"

You take a second to take a breath, hand settled on the door of the helicopter, still hesitating just a little.

"Affirmative."

The second thing he says comes in a whisper, intended for only your ears, from your very favorite nurse. Your person.

"They like you just like I do. Everyone's got you, and I love you."

Those words used to make you cry. This time, they make you nod, and push the door open.

"Good choice of words, Russ. We can discuss that later."

There will be no discussion that happens later. It will be much closer to an act of fraternization, and you both know this. You know he knows this because Keegan's bouncing a little on the balls of his feet.

Still, your foot hits the floor, narrowly followed the running blade, and you give the men before you a deeply unimpressed look.

"Hello, Task Force 141."

Is it a purposeful disrespect to not greet your former captain by his name? They can't prove that.

Still, unless you've forgotten to count, there's one more soldier than there used to be.

"...And company. I didn't think you'd find new... backup so soon."

You hide nothing. Not as you look at who must undoubtedly be your replacement. Masculine-presenting, masked and he's... glued two little wires to his helmet.

What a fucking joke. They almost did you a favor by transferring you out, really.

"Firecracker?-"

Johnny is cut off firmly by you before he can finish, a tone that almost borders on reprimand.

"My callsign is Newton, MacTavish. I don't use anything unapproved."

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Watcher 1-1 Masterlist

Synopsis: You used to be a star member of the Task Force 141. Good things never seem to last, and change paves over your old friendships. Now, the only issue is that those old friendships are staring at you across the table, with anger in their eyes.

Status: Incomplete, fully plotted

Cluster One: Early Days

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Cluster Two: Tumbling Gracelessly

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Cluster Three: Time, and the things it just so happens to do to good people

Part Nine

Part Ten

Watcher 1-1

Part Eight

Warnings!: The 141 will be criminally stupid, fumblers, all of them. Death (canon-typical), Violence (canon-typical), loss of limb (I will cover the symptoms as well as possible, but any and all corrections are welcome) They do get kissy, but no smut (that I'm writing, but it's very much implied).

Warnings for this specific chapter: Clear depiction of severe emotional distress, a very strongly-worded recommendation of transfer that will be heavy. If requested, I will section it off and add a TLDR, but it is very plot relevant.

Days seem to pass much faster when you have things to do with your time.

Wheeling around in your new chair. Learning how to switch from your chair to your bed to the toilet. Finally getting the dignity of tossing your bedpan in the biohazard bin, blasted thing.

Slowly, the inner workings of the simple lock Keegan gifted you have become a second home to your (formerly) achingly empty hands.

It's become your latest single-minded obsession, even if the tools are frankly, garbage and the lock is now your single closest companion. Maybe second to Keegan.

Speaking of, the man himself gently interrupts you halfway through another round of single-pin picking, gently tugging your reddened thumbs into his much less callused hands, frowning at you as he gently pries the lock from your fingers, pick still in the keyway.

"Jeez, hun."

The gentle tangling of fingers is what follows, as Keegan horsed around in his pockets for at least a minute, silently swearing at his own clothes until he produces a small band-aid and some ointment for your not-even-broken skin.

"You know, you're not going to need to use-"

"Shut up. You're hurtin' yourself."

His voice is just a little more firm, and, for just a second, you're quiet, and it makes the nurse seemingly regret the words and correct himself.

"I'm sorry, that was-"

At that singular second, you simply have to say otherwise, you've got to tell him that no, he didn't upset you, he never would. He couldn't ever do that, not to you. Never.

"No."

The force in your voice is the thing that makes him pause. Truth be told, it also surprises you.

"N-I- I'm not mad with you. Not with you, never. I would never be mad with you for trying to help me."

The blue eyes that look into yours make you weak. Uncomfortably so. You shouldn't be this weak, you should be strong. This time, not for your own interest. This time, it's for Keegan's.

He deserves someone who can keep themself in check.

You aren't fully sure how much time passes while you're staring into those endless pools of blue, or what exactly the man before you is thinking, until the tender wrappings of his accented voice are flooding back into your ears.

"Do you know what it is that you do to me? By being the person that you are?"

Oh.

Oh, dear. The way your cheeks are hot is not something you had been accounting for. This was not planned.

"Keegan-"

"No, no, listen."

You do. Dammit, you listen to him. You finally abandon your pride and look at him, really look at him, and see the single most daunting sight you ever have.

That is a man who is devoted. And it is scary, but not in the way you expect it to be. Because this look is not familiar to you. It is new and it is potent. It makes your chest ache in a way that makes everything in your body stutter before it starts chugging again.

"I'm going to put on the ointment. And I'm going to put the bandage on your finger, alright? And then, I will ask if I'm allowed to kiss you, because I really want to."

Your body is getting ever more fuzzy and hot and wiggly in all the ways you hate but cannot ignore. Your heart is pounding. Your mind is reeling. You know this feeling, but you don't want to admit it.

"Alright."

It feels disingenuous. You feel terrible, like you're lacking every ounce of vulnerability that Keegan offers to you. Like you're taking and not giving back.

He smiles, just a little. Only a little bit, it's a simple twitch of his lips upward, and you catch it.

"Good."

Keegan's hands are efficient, but you've seen him practice sutures and the like in front of you, and you see him nearly slip as he wraps the raw skin of your thumb in the fabric bandage. He's going faster than usual.

"You're rushing."

"Yeah, well, I really wanna kiss you."

Thank goodness that he isn't looking for the blush on the cheeks or the way your eyes are a little bit wider than they usually are. Keegan chuckles, and gently holds your callused, scarred hands in his own.

"You know you don't have to. You can say no. I'll never ask again."

You're still sitting there, one leg down and actively trying to start your brain back up again. No one's ever said something like that to you before. Sure, it was always implied, always written in little letters between the lines, but Keegan seems incredibly willing to just... give that power over to you.

You seemingly don't answer fast enough, and the nurse slowly eases himself back, out of your space.

This kicks off what you can only describe as a panic response.

Your arm moves so fast it bumps the lock to the floor, but that does little to deter you. Your hand finds short-cropped, dark hair, and pulls the nurse forward until your lips are crushed together.

It isn't gentle. It's not what someone like Keegan deserves, and you cringe when your teeth clack just a little in your desperation.

"I'm sorry."

Are the first words out of your mouth when you pull back just enough to say them, bashful and flustered that you'd been so easily picked apart by any odd nurse who bothered to really pursue you.

His grin is wide and boyish, even if his lips (chapstick-moisturized, you noted in that desperate second) are a little shiny with spit.

"Don't be."

The peck that follows might be the single best thing that's ever happened to you.

Two big, gentle hands are holding your face, stroking your hot cheeks like he's soothing a bird fresh from the cage, taking your frayed nerves and twisting them back together.

A quiet noise comes from your throat, though its foundation isn't immediate pleasure, not like it used to be. It's a grateful contentment, quiet and almost unstated except for that.

Keegan smiles against your mouth, and kisses you again. Not any harder, or deeper, or any of those bullshit words that say he wants any more. Just the same, almost loving press that is quickly lowering any of the remaining walls that surround your too-fragile heart.

You have no idea how he's done this. You don't want him to stop.

Unfortunately, a very familiar clearing of the throat sounds from the doorway. A voice you know, well.

"Glad to see you're making friends."

Laswell. Fuck.

Keegan is quick to efficiently end the short coupling of your mouths, and look up to the woman, sheepish.

"Real good friends, ma'am."

You should smack him for that, but some part of you that has become frustratingly understanding knows what it is he's doing. Taking her attention from you, funneling it into that stupid joke and hoping she'll have mercy on your pathetic ass.

It's admirable, and Laswell must catch the way you look at him, because she just sighs.

"Yes, well, you can kiss later. I have things to discuss with my soldier, so it really would be great if you-"

Keegan hauls ass. The door is shut before she can even finish talking, and Laswell shakes her head in a way that seems less disappointed and more... amused, almost.

"That settles that."

She sits in the chair next to your bed. You turn to face her, stump forward and leg folded over the edge of the terribly uncomfortable surface.

You watch her glance down, in sympathy or in pity, you're not sure.

"I'm on pain meds."

Her brows pinch, and she lets her head drop a little. Like she doesn't like what she's about to say to you.

"I know, peanut. I'd have everyone here out for malpractice if you weren't the closest to fine you could be. Just- God, this is a mixed bag."

You raise a brow, and she starts to elaborate.

"I've talked to doctors. Odds are, you can go back into the field, if you want to. If everything goes well, you could probably pass selection for the SAS or Special Forces again."

The smile that you hold is tempered by the fact that she doesn't look overjoyed by this. No, she still looks upset somehow. But you also know Laswell doesn't lie. At least, not to you.

"Something is wrong. And you don't want to tell me what it is."

She sighs, and pinches the bridge of her nose. Not out of annoyance, but some sort of empathy.

"No. I really don't want to, but I've held it back for too long already, and I know you'd like it if I came clean."

You nod, after a brief hesitation.

"You've been transferred out of the 141."

She lays it out there, plain and simple, and you're silent.

It makes so many hurtful things click. The emptiness of the small counter next to your bed. The reason none of your teammates have come to visit, why you haven't even gotten calls.

Because you really are a liability. Too slow, and now one leg down on the competition.

Laswell pipes up before the pain can entirely take you over, pulling your mind from the rapid downward spiral it was gearing up to take.

"I want to tell you now, that I read the letter that recommended the transfer. It was a load of shit, and I hate all of it. But, it got the brass on board anyway."

"I... also want to tell you that, for your own good, I'd steer clear of talking to any of the boys for a time." She gently sets your phone on the small "nightstand" beside your bed, again, almost hesitantly.

"They're a bit... heated, right now. Last I heard."

You can't talk. Or, if you can, you really don't want to. Your throat feels tight, and your eyes feel hot, and it's all too much. But you look up at her anyway, and she tried to give you the closest thing to a smile she can muster.

"Take your time, alright? You've always been a good soldier. Better than people think."

Laswell stands, then. You do nothing to stop her as she leaves the room, but you hear what she says to Keegan at the door.

"I don't know you, but they clearly do. Don't do something they don't deserve."

The instructions ring through your hollowed skull as you look toward the linoleum floor in front of you, and see the lock.

The fall must have bumped it just right, because it's open. This time, the pick looks like its stabbing into the cast-iron body.

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Watcher 1-1

Part Seven <3

Warnings!: The 141 will be criminally stupid, fumblers, all of them. Death (canon-typical), Violence (canon-typical), loss of limb (I will cover the symptoms as well as possible, but any and all corrections are welcome) They do get kissy, but no smut (that I'm writing, but it's very much implied).

Warnings for this specific chapter: (technically) main character death, written descriptions of injury, gore and blood talk. Included reference and experience with post-surgery symptoms of various degrees of seriousness. One character affectionately refers to another character as "slutbag"

Keegan is a good man.

You learn this quickly, as you get into moderate, common spats with the United States healthcare system.

In the days that narrowly follow the surgery, when you're more often unconscious than awake, you often wake with the nurse (technically certified, but you really have no idea if he actually works here) at your bedside who's just... doing whatever in the corner.

You're lucky you haven't been snippy enough to shove him away from you, just yet.

In your own defense, your dignity has been directly removed by most of this terrible shit.

You can't even get up to use the bathroom, anymore. It's a bedpan.

And apparently, you're still lucky. Because you're going to get your drainage tube out of the lovely leg wound in a few days.

You are, for all intents and purposes, about to kill someone or yourself. But Keegan is still often there, answering your questions or giving you just a bit of humor to hold onto as you go increasingly stir-crazy from waiting for Laswell to finally come and give you the rundown of the tatters that must remain of your career.

If you got lucky, she wouldn't be too upset. Maybe, if you were really lucky, she would tell you where the boys are. Why none of them have dropped in to see you yet.

It'd only be another week. You weren't sure you could last that long.

As if an angel somewhere has answered this thought, the door opens again.

"Hey, slutbag. I finally found you some enrichment."

Keegan's voice is playful, and he wears a shit-eating grin as he tosses a small bag to your bed, hitting you almost-square in the chest.

"Mm. Poor aim, Mr. Russ."

You may be tired, in pain, and you may be in a frankly terrible mood, but that doesn't mean you're not funny. Your name isn't Price.

Still, you open the little bag, and there's a box inside. You open that too, as Keegan plops himself in the chair that hurts his back because he can't be assed to bring in something better.

It's... a lock, casted out of clear plastic, with a small set of tools to pick it. Also a set of keys, which you already know you'll refuse to use for pride's sake.

Two watchful, fond blue eyes are scanning your motions and you can feel him smile, without even looking.

"I could have given you a manual, but I think you'd like it better to do it all yourself. Was I right?"

The tool's handle is smooth as you hold the lock steady, fighting to not immediately fiddle with the thing in front of Keegan. He would be too damned smug about it.

"...Thank you, Russ."

He did deserve that thanks, as far as you thought. You were pathetic right now, useless and bed-bound and panicky. And still, Keegan was willing to look upon you, he still willingly chooses to see you.

This thank you encompasses all of those things. You know you've been less than fun. Less than useful. And you know Keegan deserves to know that he's been good to you. Better than you've ever deserved.

He's quiet, for a time, but then you hear a warm chuckle as he reaches forward to give you a gentle pat on the shoulder.

"Don't say that like you owe me anything, kid," You really should interrupt him, tell him that, if you're not older than him, you definitely outrank him, but you don't. "You're much better than working in a shit-hole like this."

Your eyes find his, and you can see him smile as he lowers his mask. You're noticed that he only seems to do this in the room, with you. And only when you're both alone.

"...I know some people who could change that."

"Really?"

"I'm missing my leg, I still have my connections, Keegan."

His smile is worth the scolding you know Lawell will give you for trying to promise to pull him into the service.

You don't care. He's medically smart enough, and pliable enough to train into shape.

Maybe, if you can't serve anymore, you can bring someone who was more brilliant that you ever were. Maybe, your debt is still something you can repay.

His smile isn't wide, but it's happy. Something in your chest squeezes too hard, but he's kind enough to ignore how your heart monitor beeps faster. You know he notices, because his eyes crinkle at the corners.

"D'you want me to give you some hints to pick that lock faster?"

For once, you see that offer for help, and it doesn't strike you as a direct insult to you. You can see, right there before you, someone who wants to get close.

And it's so very stupid to trust someone. But something tells you that you will never be too slow for Keegan.

He seems fine with waiting for you to catch up.

Maybe that's why you nod at that question.

Maybe that's why he sits on the side of your bed, and starts to explain the basics, gently leading your hands into proper position as he starts to gently wriggle the tool agains the pins.

You would have never allowed this, otherwise, but it feels surprisingly good to have him there. Not because he thinks you're weak. Not because he thinks you'd be better if he taught you this.

Keegan is teaching you this because he thinks it's something you want to learn.

The tool turns before you're ready, and the lock pops open under your hands. Keegan's hands too.

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Watcher 1-1

Chapter Six!!!

Warnings!: The 141 will be criminally stupid, fumblers, all of them. Death (canon-typical), Violence (canon-typical), loss of limb (no, I won't tell you who yet >:), but I will cover the symptoms as well as possible) They do get kissy, but no smut (that I'm writing, but it's very much implied).

Warnings for this specific chapter: (technically) main character death, written descriptions of injury, gore and blood talk. Included reference and experience with post-surgery symptoms of various degrees of seriousness.

Sometimes, during major traumas, people can "see" what is often described as a snapshot of a particular moment, sometimes several.

You can mentally hear a sweetened voice, masculine but tender, reminding you of that, even in the depths of your own bruised brain.

There's a loud beeping beside you, and everything hurts. Your head, your chest, your legs... it's varied, too. A throb of agony with each beat of your heart in some places, a wave-like wash of dull pain in others.

Something is wrong with you, and you don't know what.

You know, however, that your eyes are heavy, and your lips and nose are covered by an oxygen mask. The straps, thin and stretchy, still dig into your cheeks a bit.

The pain in your leg is the most present, but the monumental task that has become opening your eyes is interrupted by something else opening.

The door, to the white-walled room where you sit.

A curly-haired head is peeking through, and there's a gasp when they seemingly see that you're not dead.

"Holy shit. I have to call someone."

That's all the warning you're granted before they're scampering off, leaving the door ajar, and you to your own devices.

Your first attempt at movement incurs a harsh punishment from the binds that are your injuries.

The flash of tearing pain and hot blood in your veins is a cloying, clawing thing, and it pulls a noise from your throat, but it doesn't stop you.

No, no, what stops you is what your minds sees fit to conjure, at the sight you see.

The wrinkles of the blanket around your legs... it flattens, beneath the knee of the leg that was under rubble. Your left. There isn't anything there anymore.

Like a sick search engine, you're trapped in the moments you couldn't yet remember, stuck and helpless. Watching.

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

Price and Ghost stand over your body, talking heatedly as the Lieutenant fights to overturn the piece of concrete pinning you to the ground.

"I'm telling you, they're a liability, Simon. I won't put my team at risk just because you're partial to the first rookie you see that isn't utter dogshit."

His tone is final, but you can't look up, you can't plead your case.

You can just sit there and feel it, even as adrenaline starts to choke your senses and make your fingers tingle and jitter.

"So you're going to leave one of your own to get mutilated and immediately transfer?"

You feel your body tense. In the memory, in the real moment, you're not sure which. It might be both.

The Mancunian is harsh-voiced, like he's maybe one wrong look away from pistol-whipping Price over this. You can't see the look the captain gives him, but you know it must be bad, because his posture tenses so fast you hear his clothes rustle between the ringing of your ears.

"You want to risk it? Do you want to risk losing your Soap? Because they're too slow?"

Your chest is too tight for you to breathe right now, like you're being pressed in a vice, it only gets tighter. And still, your mind is racing too fast to handle any of this.

The oxygen is pumping into your veins, flooding your system more and more with every ragged, too-fast breath you take. It only makes you panic more, choke on the ugly, hard, confused sobs that want to leave your throat.

You don't know how long this state is the only thing you can feel, how long your existence is defined by this blind panic, but you know what pulls you from it.

"Hey. Did you know that frogs vomit by flipping their stomachs out through their mouth and cleaning it with their stupid frog hands?"

The question forces you to take a breath, shuddering as it is, and point wet eyes up at who's talking to you.

There's a man before you, crouching next to your side. He's your age–maybe a bit younger, he has suspiciously nice skin for someone who's wearing nurse scrubs–but he smiles crookedly as you realize how far you're falling.

"That trick always works."

He's uncomfortably smug, but there's a sort of sympathy in his eyes that makes your breathing halt as he gently slips the oxygen mask down just enough to let you breathe through your nose, taking in slower, shakier breaths. Like Laswell taught you to.

Maybe it's to comfort you, maybe it's because you look stupid, but the man grabs a tissue from your bedside and gently sponging off the tears from the corners of your eyes, cooing at you while he does.

"Right. You're okay, alright? Technically, I'm breaking the law by being here, by the way."

Your voice shakes terribly when you try to talk, raspy from disuse and strained from your own panic.

"What."

It doesn't sound like a question, but he answers anyway.

"I'm not any of your nurses, sugar. HIPPA violations, y'know?"

"... Still... leaving a veteran to wake up alone with one less leg than before don't sit with me."

His voice is gentle, and he's still sat in the plastic chair by your bedside, treating you like a piece of gold foil. Gently.

It should make you mad. You should want to beat his ass, for thinking you would ever need to be coddled like this. But you're tired, and the haziness of a painkiller cocktail is starting to nibble at your sense again. So you lay back down, slowly.

His hands help you by habit, even though he removes them from your shoulders when he sees you tense.

This is the first time you take a good look at him.

He's got a prominent nose, with a bump at the ridge, like it's been broken and reset. Blue eyes, that catch the sterile light and glint. You shudder at how it reminds you of Soap. of John.

But he's different. his stubble is lighter, trimmed closer to the cheek. His jaw is stronger, his hair is different. He wears a simple, thin black mask, for sanitation's sake.

There's a stupid little name-tag pinned at his breast, written with borderline chicken scratch. It reads: Hi!, my name is Keegan.

He knows you're looking down, and he smiles just a little bit. When you open your mouth, try to talk. He cuts you off.

"I already know your name from the charts. Don't strain yourself, I think the stern lesbian woman would kill me if I made your condition even a little bit worse."

The smile, the stupid joke makes the tiredness subside, for even a second. He grins when he sees your lips twitch up a little bit, his eyes crinkle at the corners, warm and playful. Almost fond.

It will take a long time. And a lot of work. But you have... someone here. Not a friend. Not yet. But he's still someone.

First chapter | Previous chapter | Next chapter

✧˖* Kick call of duty ghosts gifs°࿐

Merrick: "Kick, you'll handle perimeter and security. Nothing and no one gets through."

Kick: "And no one gets out either."

©️Scenes from ASP3RITY on youtube.

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

Relationship Alphabet series with Cod ghosts!

Keegan Russ

✧ Pairing: Romantic. ✧ Genre: Fluff.

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

A – Affection

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

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

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

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

B – Boundaries

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

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

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

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

C – Communication

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

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

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

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

D – Devotion

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

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

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

E – Empathy

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

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

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

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

"Relax. Let me get it done."

F – Forgiveness

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

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

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

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

G – Growth

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

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

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

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

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

H – Honesty

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

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

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

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

I – Intimacy

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

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

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

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

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

"Eyes on me, sweetheart."

J – Joy

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

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

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

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

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

"Look at you. So desperate already?"

K – Kindness

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

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

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

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

"I’ve got you. Just let go."

L – Love

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

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

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

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

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

M – Memories

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

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

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

N – Nurturing

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

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

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

"I got you."

O – Openness

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

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

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

P – Patience

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

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

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

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

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

"I can do this all night."

Q – Quality Time

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

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

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

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

R – Respect

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

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

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

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

S – Support

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

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

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

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

T – Trust

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

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

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

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

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

"Let go. I’ve got you."

U – Understanding

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

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

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

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

V – Vulnerability

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

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

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

W – Warmth

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

"You cold? C’mere."

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

Light NSFW:

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

"You feel good against me, sweetheart."

X – XO (Hugs & Kisses)

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

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

"Goddamit, you mean everything to me."

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

"You want more? Say it."'

Y – Yearning

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

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

"Stay safe. will Come back to you."

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

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

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

Z – Zeal

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

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

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

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

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

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

Headcanon that Keegan has horrible migraines but refuses to acknowledge he has them because that makes him weak. He refuses to admit it to anyone when asked but the team can tell and try to help by giving him ibuprofen and water but refuses to listen to.

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

Stubborn as hell.

Characters: Keegan p. russ, Gn reader.

Notes: Headaches. idk.

The Beginning – The First Signs

Keegan was good at ignoring pain. It was part of the job, part of who he was. A Ghost didn’t stop just because they were uncomfortable.

So, when the first sharp throbs of pain started behind his eyes, he did what he always did—pushed through it.

No complaints, no mention of it.

But the others noticed.

You saw the way Keegan clenched his jaw a little too tight, how his usual sharp movements were just a fraction slower.

Kick caught the way Keegan subtly rubbed his temples when he thought no one was looking.

It was small things. Almost unnoticeable.

But not to them.

“You good?” Merrick asked casually one evening, tossing Keegan a bottle of ibuprofen.

Keegan barely glanced at it before scoffing. “Fine.”

Kick raised a brow. “You sure? You look like you wanna throw up.”

Keegan gave him a flat look before deadpanning, “That’s just my face.”

Keegan exhaled through his nose, standing up and walking off like he hadn’t even heard them.

He wasn’t weak.

And admitting to something as stupid as a migraine? That was weak.

The Middle – Getting Worse

The next few days were hell.

The pain wasn’t just behind his eyes anymore—it was drilling into his skull, a constant, unbearable pounding. Light made it worse, sound made it worse, existing made it worse.

But Keegan still refused to say anything.

His movements were stiffer, his grip on his rifle just a little too tight. His patience, which was already thin on a good day, was damn near nonexistent.

He just it would be gone at any time.

The breaking point came during a training drill.

Keegan was lining up a shot when a sharp, blinding pain lanced through his skull, making him flinch. He missed the target—barely—but that was enough.

But damn he was so professional at hiding them, But that doesn't mean you didn't notice.

No one said anything immediately, but as soon as the drill ended, You called out, “Keegan. A minute?.”

Keegan sighed, already knowing where this was going, but followed you anyway.

The moment you were out of earshot from the others, you turned to face him, expression unreadable.

“How long?”

Keegan feigned ignorance. “How long what?”

You didn’t take the bait.

“The migraines, keegan.”

Keegan tensed slightly before shaking his head. “I don’t get migraines.”

You sighed through his nose, patience running thin. “Keegan—”

“I said I’m fine.” Keegan’s voice was sharp, a little too sharp. He went to turn away, but You caught his arm. Not harshly. Just enough to make him stop.

The room was silent for a long second before You finally spoke again, voice lower this time.

“Being in pain doesn’t make you weak. Ignoring it does.”

Keegan’s jaw tightened. He wanted to argue, wanted to fight the point—but the throbbing in his skull was making it damn near impossible to think straight.

So instead, he just yanked your arm free and walked away.

The End – Finally Giving In

It got worse.

It always got worse.

By the time the next mission rolled around, Keegan was running on fumes. The pain hadn’t stopped, the lack of sleep was making it worse, and he could feel the nausea creeping up every time he moved too fast.

And of course, You noticed.

The mission had barely started when You, without looking away from his rifle, muttered into comms, “Take the ibuprofen.”

Keegan, crouched behind cover, scowled. “Fuck no.”

You exhaled sharply, like You expected that answer. “You’re useless like this. Take the damn meds!.”

Keegan swallowed against the bile rising in his throat. The pain was unbearable now, like his skull was being split in two. His hands weren’t as steady as they should’ve been. His vision was a little too blurry.

And he hated that You were right.

With a frustrated sigh, he dug into his vest pocket, pulling out the bottle You had definitely slipped in there at some point, and dry-swallowed two pills.

Silence on comms for a beat.

Then You simply said, “Good.”

Keegan sighed, adjusting his grip on his rifle. “Still fuckin’ hate you.”

Your voice was unreadable. “Yeah, yeah. Get in position.”

The headache didn’t go away immediately. It never did.

But for the first time in days, it eased.

And Keegan finally admitted to himself—maybe, just maybe—listening wasn’t so bad after all.

But he still don't give a damn fuck XD.

THIS IS YO FAV??

HEADCANONS

Keegan is in love with a friend but won't admit it.

I will make the friend as a teammate!

iym "won't admit it" like he wouldn't confess and stay like this forver without expressing then hell yeah whatchu talkin' abt

and lastly before i start writing i don't wanna no one typing "Keegan would never be this emotionally gahook!🤓🤓" well guess what everyone fall in love and slip into it like a damn failure ballerina

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

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

I'm staying with the mask...

Keegan is the kind of person who doesn’t easily give in to feelings—especially when it comes to anything that might distract him from his duty. It takes a long time for him to realize what he’s feeling, and even longer for him to even consider acknowledging it. Here's how it could play out:

How Many Years Till Keegan Realizes His Feelings?

Keegan’s realization about his feelings for you takes a few years, especially because he’s constantly suppressing it.

At first, he’s just focused on the mission, on the job. But over time, as you continue to be a steady part of his life—his teammate, his friend, and the person he trusts most—those feelings slowly sneak up on him. It’s something that builds gradually, like a storm he can’t ignore.

but it’s only after 2-3 years that he finally realizes what he’s been feeling.

In the early years, Keegan is too focused on survival, on getting the job done, to think too much about it. The team dynamic is important to him, but his view of relationships is still influenced by his sense of duty—no attachments.

Over time, though, the small moments between you, the way you laugh, how you handle stress, and the way he feels when he’s around you, start to make him realize that he feels something more than friendship.He doesn't recognize it as "love" right away, though.

At first, it’s just this pull—this desire to be near you, to protect you, to make sure you’re safe. It’s subtle but undeniable. By the time the realization fully hits him, it’s more of a feeling he’s tried to bury than something he’s consciously thought about.

1. The Signs Are There—But He Won’t Acknowledge Them

Keegan isn’t the type to openly flirt or be obvious about his feelings, but it’s the little things that give him away.

You get injured on a mission? He’s the first one there, eyes scanning over you, jaw clenched.

“It’s just a scratch,” you try to joke, but he doesn’t smile. Just hands you a med kit and mutters, “Be more careful.”

When you’re on base, he always sits next to you during briefings. Never says why. Just does.

If someone else makes a joke about you or gets too friendly, there’s a shift in him—subtle, but noticeable. His eyes linger, his body tenses. But he won’t say a damn thing.

2. The Self-Denial Runs Deep

Keegan doesn’t do emotions. At least, not openly. So when he starts feeling something for you, his first instinct is to push it down.

If you ever get too close—physically or emotionally—he subtly pulls back. Keeps things professional.

“You’re overthinking it,” he tells himself when his heart races after you brush against him.

If someone teases him about you? He just gives them a deadpan look and changes the subject.

Even when he knows he’s looking at you too long, when he knows he’s thinking about you too much—he convinces himself it’s nothing.

You’re a teammate. A friend. That’s it.

He started to think he is so stupid and hating this.

3. The Breaking Point

It takes something big to crack through his walls.

Maybe it’s a mission gone wrong—maybe you get separated, and for a few agonizing hours, he thinks he’s lost you.

When he finds you again, relief crashes into him like a punch to the gut. But instead of saying anything, he just grips your shoulder a little too tightly.

“Don’t do that again.” His voice is low, rough.

“I didn’t exactly plan on it, Keegan.” You’re trying to keep things light, but he’s not laughing.

That’s when you realize—he was scared.

Not because he cared actually, he is caring for everyone is his team, but the times when sees you or anyone else in the team get injured he may lost it inside.

since *cough* ajax'x death *cough*

And that? That’s not something Keegan lets himself feel.

3. The Tension in Silence

Keegan is sitting across from you, eyes trained on something—anything but you. The silence between you two is thick.

You try to break it. “So… what’s been on your mind lately?”

Keegan’s eyes flicker to you for a moment, before he shrugs, clearly unwilling to open up. “Nothing. Just… tired.”

He doesn’t look tired though. He looks distant.

There’s a pause, and you both continue to sit there in the quiet, and for a moment, it feels like he wants to say something—wants to talk—but he can’t.

"You sure?" you push, but when your eyes meet, Keegan’s gaze softens for just a split second before he pulls back.

“I’m good. worry about yourself.” typical he always talks like that.

But you know it’s more than that. And so does he.

4. The Small Acts of Thoughtfulness

After a particularly tough mission, everyone’s gathered around, sharing drinks and stories from the field. Keegan, ever the lone wolf, sits in the corner, keeping to himself from talking to the others.

But when you walk past him, you notice something: a fresh pack of bandages sitting on the table next to his gear, alongside some protein bars you hadn’t seen before.

“What’s all this?”

Keegan looks up from his seat, nonchalantly leaning back. “Nothing. Just thought you might need it.”

“Need what?”

“Bandages, snacks... whatever. You’re always running low on stuff after a mission.”

It’s a small gesture, but it doesn’t escape your notice. He’s paying attention to you. And somehow, it feels more significant than anything he’s said.

“Thanks.” You nod at him, unsure of what to say.

Keegan just gives a short, tight smile. “Yeah. No problem.”

But in that moment, you know it’s not just about the bandages. It’s about the care he doesn’t know how to express.

sorry i gave yall some boring missions-moments but guess what be prepared for base moments when the fun would happen

Base moments:

1. The Way He Always Ends Up Near You

Keegan doesn’t mean to always sit next to you. It just happens.

During mission briefings, in the mess hall, even just sitting around waiting for orders—somehow, he always gravitates toward you.

At first, it’s subconscious. But then one day, Merrick calls him out on it. “Didn’t know you two were attached at the hip.”

Keegan freezes mid-motion, his fork hovering over his plate. His response is as dry as ever. “I sit where there’s space.”

But the moment he realizes how obvious he’s being, he starts overcorrecting—purposefully sitting across the room, trying too hard not to make it look like he cares.

It doesn’t last long. Eventually, he gives up because avoiding you makes him more irritated than anything else.

2. Patch-Ups That Last Too Long

Being in the field means getting injured—a lot. And while Keegan prefers patching himself up, there are times when someone else has to do it.

After a particularly rough mission, you’re the one tending to a cut above his eyebrow. He sits still, jaw clenched, letting you clean the wound.

The problem? You’re too damn close. He can feel your breath, the warmth of your hands.

His brain tells him to pull away, but his body stays frozen. His heartbeat is a little too fast, and he swears the air feels heavier than it should.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he mutters.

You gave a confused look with a smile, not missing a beat. “Like what?”

He doesn’t answer. Just stares straight ahead, refusing to meet your eyes. The moment you’re done, he mutters a quick “Thanks” and bolts before he does something stupid.

3. The Jealousy He Pretends Not to Feel

There’s a new guy on base, and he’s been way too friendly with you. Keegan doesn’t react—outwardly.

But you notice the shift in him. The way his responses are a little more clipped. The way he suddenly has a lot to say whenever this guy is around, mostly in the form of sarcastic comments.

The moment that really gives him away?

One evening, you’re joking around with the new recruit, laughing at something stupid like yall being just some sillies. Keegan, who’s cleaning his rifle nearby, suddenly snaps the bolt back a little too aggressively.

It’s not subtle. Everyone notices. Merrick raises an eyebrow.

“Problem, Keegan?”

“No.” His voice is flat. “Just making sure my rifle’s working.”

He doesn’t talk to you for the rest of the night, and you know exactly why.

4. The Way He Watches Over You Without Realizing It

Keegan doesn’t hover. At least, he thinks he doesn’t.

But you start noticing how often he’s the first one to check on you after a mission. Even if he doesn’t say anything, even if he just passes by while you’re getting patched up, there’s always a moment where his eyes flicker over to you, assessing.

One night, after a particularly bad op, you find him sitting in the common area, pretending to clean his gear HELP WHY AM I MAKING HIM ONLY DOING THAT—but it’s clear he’s waiting for you to come back from the med bay.

“You could just ask if I’m okay, you know.”

He doesn’t look up. Just keeps working. “I know you’re fine.”

You shake your head with a small smile. “Then why are you still sitting here?”

He still doesn’t look up. “Gear needed cleaning.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Shut up.”

5. The Night He Almost Said Something

It’s late, and the base is quiet. You and Keegan are the last ones in the training area, neither of you wanting to sleep yet.

You’re sitting side by side, backs against the wall, exhaustion settling in after a long day.

“Ever think about what comes after this?” you ask, voice softer than usual.

He doesn’t answer right away.

When he does, his voice is lower than usual. “No point.”

“Why not?”

He hesitates. And for a split second, there’s something in his expression—something unreadable.

Then, he shifts, standing up abruptly. “Too much to do tomorrow.”

You watch as he walks away, and for the first time, you realize something.

He’s not avoiding the idea of the future.

He’s avoiding you in it.

The Almost-Kiss – Keegan’s Sudden Realization

The base was quiet, the hum of distant machinery and the occasional crackle of a radio the only sounds breaking the silence. You and Keegan sat side by side on a supply crate near the vehicle bay, the faint glow of the overhead light casting soft shadows across his sharp features.

It had started as another late-night conversation. The kind that happened when neither of you felt like sleeping, when exhaustion lingered but something unspoken kept you both awake.

You nudged his arm. “You know, for someone who’s supposed to be a ghost, you suck at disappearing when I need peace and quiet.”

Keegan huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah? Funny, ‘cause you keep showing up in all the places I go to be alone.”

You smirked. “Almost like you don’t mind the company.”

He didn’t deny it. Just glanced at you from the corner of his eye, his usual deadpan expression softening just a little.

There was a pause. A long, lingering moment where the air seemed different. He wasn’t looking away this time. And for some reason, neither were you.

Something about the quiet, the dim light, the sheer familiarity of sitting next to him made everything else fade. His face was close—closer than usual.

“You always do that,” he muttered.

You raised an eyebrow. “Do what?”

His eyes flickered downward for a second, barely noticeable, before he let out a slow exhale. “Make things... complicated.”

You tilted your head slightly, searching his face. His voice wasn’t irritated, wasn’t accusatory. If anything, he almost sounded... unsure. Like he wasn’t sure if he should be saying this at all.

You swallowed. “Is that what I do?”

Keegan’s fingers twitched where they rested against his knee. “Yeah.”

But he didn’t move away. He didn’t shift back into his usual guarded distance. If anything, he leaned in just a fraction—subtle, almost imperceptible.

And you mirrored him.

It wasn’t conscious. It wasn’t something either of you planned. It was just happening.

His breath was steady, controlled, but you could see the tightness in his jaw, the way his body tensed like he was warring with himself.

“Keegan…” you murmured.

His gaze dropped—to your lips, just for a second. His shoulders rose with a slow inhale, his hand flexing like he was fighting every instinct in his body.

The space between you was gone now, barely an inch left. Your nose almost brushed his, and he didn’t pull back.

Didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe.

And for a moment, you thought he was going to close that last bit of distance.

But then—he stopped.

His entire body tensed, his breath hitching like he’d suddenly realized exactly what he was doing.

Like he’d been caught off guard by himself.

His eyes flickered with something—panic, hesitation, restraint—before he pulled away.

Not fast. Not dramatic. Just slow enough that it felt deliberate. Like he was forcing himself to retreat before he did something he couldn’t take back.

He cleared his throat, looking away. “I—” He shook his head. “Forget it.”

Your brows furrowed. “Forget what?”

He pushed off the crate, running a hand over his face, avoiding your gaze completely. “I gotta go.”

And just like that, he walked off, leaving you sitting there, your heart still racing, the warmth of his breath still lingering against your skin.

And wondering if he’d ever let himself stop running from whatever this was.

Keegan had already turned to leave, but you weren’t going to let him walk away again.

Not this time.

Before he could disappear into the dark hallways of the base, you reached out, grabbing his wrist. His body tensed immediately, like he expected you to let go, but you didn’t.

“Keegan.” Your voice was firm, unwavering.

He exhaled through his nose, not turning to face you. “Let it go.”

You scoffed. “That’s it? You’re just gonna walk off like nothing happened?”

Finally, he turned his head slightly, just enough for you to see his expression—calm, unreadable, but there was something underneath it. Something forced.

“Because nothing did,” he said flatly.

You let out a humorless laugh. “Right. So you just—what? Lean in like that for fun? Just a casual thing between teammates?”

His jaw tightened at that word. Teammates.

You stepped in front of him now, forcing him to actually look at you. His expression didn’t change. Not irritated, not angry—just cold.

“I don’t know what you think this is,” he said, voice steady, “but you need to stop.”

The sheer calmness in his tone pissed you off more than if he had just yelled at you.

“Stop what?” You folded your arms. “Want to spell it out for me? Since apparently, I’m the only one here acknowledging the fact that something’s changed.”

Keegan didn’t blink. “That’s exactly the problem.”

You stared at him, heartbeat loud in your ears. “What does that even mean?”

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “We were fine before. You, me—this team. Things were simple.”

Simple. The word hit deeper than it should have.

You swallowed, voice quieter now. “And what? You’re afraid that if we cross some invisible line, everything falls apart?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Just stared at you, expression unreadable, but you could see the battle happening in his head.

Finally, he sighed. “I’m saying I don’t want to do this with you.”

It was calm. Unshaken. Almost like he was convincing himself more than you.

Your chest tightened, but you didn’t back down. “Liar.”

Keegan’s gaze darkened slightly, but his voice remained steady. “I don’t care what you think you saw back there. I wasn’t thinking. And I won’t make that mistake again.”

You let out a breath, something heavy settling in your chest. “That’s what this is to you? A mistake?”

His fingers curled into a loose fist at his side, but he gave you nothing. No reaction.

“Go back to how things were,” he finally said. “Because this? This isn’t happening not with this kind of damn half apocalypse world.”

It was final. A solid wall thrown between you, built up in seconds.

You stared at him, searching his face for any crack, any sign that he was feeling what you were. But Keegan was a master at locking everything away.

And yet…

There was something in his eyes. The way he looked at you, the way his shoulders were too tense, his jaw clenched a fraction too tight.

He was lying.

You knew it.

But you also knew that no matter what you said, he wasn’t going to admit it. Not now.

Not yet.

So you stepped back. Swallowed the lump in your throat. “You're a piece of shit keegan.”

Keegan didn’t say anything. Just gave you one last look before turning and walking away.

And this time, you let him.

But deep down, you both knew—this wasn’t over.

angst

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

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

them as dads [requested!]

this has been like 2 months in my drafts💀

characters: Logan walker, David hesh walker, Keegan p. russ, Thomas A. merrick, Kick

notes: fluffy asf, you decide what is the gender of the baby, k/n refers to "kid name"

summary: They’ve survived war, impossible odds, and the weight of their pasts. But nothing could have prepared them for fatherhood.

They’ve faced life-or-death missions, impossible odds, and the weight of war. But nothing—nothing—could have prepared them for this moment, no this is not a new level this is a new life for them.

ok but before we start you gotta choose your baby a boy or a girl!😍

Logan walker:

Before the baby was born, he was nervous. Didn’t think he’d be a good dad. But the second he held them? Game over.

The first time he holds your newborn, he just stares for a long time, completely still. He’s never been one to show big emotions, but his eyes say everything—pure love, He was afraid to lift them up a bit to his lips and peck their forehead :(

He gets up for late-night feedings without a word. One night, you wake up and find him in the rocking chair, gently swaying with the baby on his chest, "You can put them back in the crib, babe." you said Resting your hand on his shoulder which he shrugged with a smile "They’re fine here." (Translation: I don’t want to move them.)

Whenever the baby grabs his finger in their tiny hands, he just stares at them in awe, as if he still can’t believe they’re real.

The baby loves the sound of his heartbeat. Anytime they’re fussy, he just lays them on his chest, and boom—instant calm.

He may not be the most expressive, but if he ever catches you and the baby sleeping together, he just watches for a moment, quietly smiling to himself, thinking how he got here.

His kid starts crying, and Logan, despite being tired, doesn't hesitate. He picks them up carefully, rocking them slowly back and forth.

“Hey, it’s okay. Dad’s here…”

There’s something about holding his baby that makes the world feel quieter. It's the kind of calm Logan has rarely experienced in his life.

Feeding Time: Logan’s the type to make sure everything is perfect when it’s time for a meal. He’s the dad who prepares the food and is very particular about making sure the spoon isn’t too hot.

Logan’s Thought “I’m not sure if I’m doing this right. Why does this seem so complicated?”

You’re both sitting on the couch, and Logan is holding the baby bottle with one hand, awkwardly trying to get your little one to latch on. He’s focused, quiet, but there’s a softness in his eyes.

Logan: “You’re safe. Everything’s good. Just eat, little one.”

You smile softly from the side, watching as Logan’s usual stoic expression softens when the baby starts drinking. His hands are careful, his movements slow and gentle.

Smilingsoftly to you “I never thought I’d be doing this.”

You laugh quietly. “You’re doing great.”

with a small smirk “Yeah, well, I’ve got a lot to learn.”

Teaching to Talk:

You and Logan are sitting on the floor with the baby in front of you both. They’re about six months old, staring at your lips as you encourage them to say their first words.

Logan has a faint smile on his face as he watches the baby’s little hands reach for your lips.

With patient “Say ‘mama.’ Can you say ‘mama’?”The baby coos and gurgles, but no words.

Logan watches, nodding in agreement.

Then the gentle tone of logan “Come on, kid. You can do it. Say ‘dada.’” The baby makes a tiny noise, which could almost be construed as ‘dada.’ Logan looks over at you, grinning.

“Dada. That’s my boy/girl.” him saying proudly.

“It’s hard to believe they’re growing up this fast.”

The baby is starting to take their first steps, and you and Logan are ready for it. He watches intently, waiting to catch them if they stumble.

You with excited tone “Come on, sweetie! You’ve got this.”

Logan gently sets the baby on their feet, keeping a steady hand just in case. The baby takes a shaky step, then another. Logan grins.

Logan encouraging his little one “Good job, kiddo. Keep going. Just like that.”

You’re both so proud, and Logan’s eyes soften with that familiar protectiveness.

He muttered quietly to you “They’re already making progress. It feels like just yesterday they were in my arms so small.”

He’s not a man of many words, but his actions speak louder than anything.

You catch him lying on the couch, your toddler sprawled across his chest, both of them fast asleep. He stirs a little when you take a picture but doesn’t wake up.

He loves watching you and your child interact. There’s a quiet fondness in his eyes whenever he sees you both laughing together.

Logan isn’t the loud, over-the-top dad—he’s the one who’s always there. Present, patient, protective in ways that don’t always need words.

When his toddler wakes up crying at night, Logan doesn’t rush—he just picks them up, rubs their back, and hums softly until they calm down.

Has a habit of resting his chin on top of his kid’s head when he hugs them. It’s a subtle, grounding thing for him.

His toddler steals his mask and waddles around in it, dragging his vest behind them.

“Look, Daddy! I’m you!”

Logan just smirks, ruffles their hair, and mutters, “Not yet, kid.”

The quiet but super protective dad.

Probably the "cool" parent who lets his kids stay up a little longer if they beg enough.

If his kid gets scared at night, he doesn’t say much—just picks them up and lets them sleep on his chest.

David "hesh" walker:

He was already excited. that's it.

The first time he holds the baby, he grins so hard it looks like his face might break. "hey Look at them!" He said with his warm, dripping tone looking at them PROUDLY, "Who ever thought..."

He insists on “introducing” the baby to everything in the house, Hesh, holding the baby up like Simba“And this... is the couch. You’re gonna spit up on it a lot.” You lost your heart already at this sight "Oh my god david not like this!!"

Hesh is the kind of dad who’ll talk to his baby like they’re already understanding him, often teasing them in a playful way.

That's why his baby start talking early and understanding cuz hesh is talking to them like normal human.

He talks to them as if they understand every word. “You’re a good kid. I promise, I’ll be here when you need me.”

Sometimes, when the baby cries and you’re exhausted, he gets in with his smile a proud one, acting like a hero who will solve problems—“Don’t worry, I got this.” while holding your shoulder, then proceeds to rock them while pacing around the room, yep. he needs your help.

Whenever the baby falls asleep in his arms, he refuses to move. “I don’t care if my arm falls off, I’m not waking them up!.”

He can't help but wondering if he do what elias used to do with him and logan from raising and taking care of.

Feeding Time: Hesh has absolutely no chill when it comes to feeding. He tries to get the baby to eat everything, like he was crushing the cookies and put them in a spoon like a cereal because why not.

You’re both in the kitchen, and Hesh is trying to feed the baby their first solid food. He’s a little nervous but tries to hide it.

“C’mon, little one, let’s get some food in you. You gotta grow big and strong like your old man.”

The baby makes a funny face, unsure of the new taste, but Hesh is laughing.

“Yeah, I know. It’s a bit weird at first, but you’ll get used to it.”

You stand beside him, holding the baby’s bib in place.

“I think you’re doing just fine.”

“Better than I expected, that’s for sure.”

Teaching to Talk: When the baby starts saying their first words, Hesh loves it. Every new word is a reason for a celebration.

You and Hesh are sitting on the floor, the baby in front of you both. Hesh is trying to get the baby to say their first word, clearly determined to be “dada.”

Hesh being the cheerleader “Say ‘dada,’ come on, you can do it.”

The baby babbles, but no word comes out. Hesh smiles, patient.

“It’ll come, don’t worry. First word’s gotta be ‘dada.’”

You chuckled at him “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Hesh with a faint smile “Alright, we’ll see who they say first.”

You and Hesh are in the living room, baby on the floor, trying to get them to walk. Hesh gently places his hands under the baby’s arms and lifts them to their feet.

The baby stumbles but starts taking a few shaky steps toward you. Hesh watches in awe.

And he was so damn proud about it“That’s my kid. You got it.”

“They’re definitely taking after you.”Hesh smiles and chuckles softly.

“Let’s hope they don’t end up as clumsy as me.” way to go hesh...

Hesh is the “fun dad”—the one who hypes up his kid like they’re a superstar.

Every little thing they do? He’s cheering for them so softly and warming it's like he showed the most deserved man to be a dad. "hey look at that throw! that's my kid!"

Discipline? Struggles with it because he hates seeing his kid upset, but he’s firm when needed.

If his kid ever has a bad day, he immediately finds a way to cheer them up—ice cream, movie night, or just roughhousing in the backyard.

Protective? Absolutely. If anyone messes with his kid? That Walker temper shows real fast.

He tries to teach his kid how to trash talk during a game.

“Okay, k/n, say this—‘Nice try, better luck next time!’”

Later, his toddler absolutely DESTROYS another kid in a game and yells, “YOU SUCK, GET BETTER!”

“NONONO—THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT.”

Then he keeps tricking the baby not to say any bad words in front of you

The fun and affectionate dad

He’s the dad who calls out, “Where’s my little champ?!” when he comes home, just to hear the sound of tiny feet running toward him.

Keegan p. russ:

u i a io ui ii io (srry just preparing)

The moment he holds the baby, he freezes. He’s seen combat, survived impossible missions—but this tiny, fragile little human? Terrifying.

How do I even do this? He’s more comfortable with missions, with strategy—but a tiny human?

He holds the baby awkwardly at first, but once they latch onto his finger, he feels an overwhelming rush of emotion.

He’s super careful with them, holding them like they’re made of glass. “Are you sure I’m doing this right?”

The first time they grab his finger, his breath catches in his throat. He doesn’t say anything, but later, you find him staring at his hand, like he’s still processing it.

When he thinks no one’s watching, he talks to them in the softest voice. “You got your mom’s nose, huh? Lucky you.”

You catch him pacing the room at 3 AM, whispering to the baby while rocking them. “You really don’t need to cry this much, y’know?” In the most soothing way ever.

The first time your kid falls asleep on his lap, he doesn’t move for two hours. You find him just sitting there, hand resting gently on their back.

Feeding Time: Keegan is super chill about feeding, but he’s the first one to notice when the baby is definitely not eating, he once decided to let you asleep and takes the responsibility to feed the baby.

“Did you feed them yet?” you entering the kitchen to find keegan has already finished

Him sitting on a chait arms on his chest eyes closed“Yeah, but they just threw it on the floor. Like I said, it’s not my problem.” yep it is not his problem to clean the floor.

He’ll sit down, grab the baby’s hand gently, and show them how to hold the spoon properly, though he’s secretly a little proud of how fast they’re learning.

He grins at the baby “Yeah, you’re gonna be a pro at this in no time. Just don’t use the floor as your plate, alright?”

Teaching to Talk: Keegan doesn’t push the baby too hard, but he’s got his moments when he tries to teach them.

You and Keegan are sitting on the floor with the baby, encouraging them to say their first words. Keegan keeps repeating "dada," trying to get them to say it.

“C’mon, say ‘dada.’ You can do it.”

The baby coos, but no word yet. Keegan patiently tries again.

“Say ‘dada,’ kid. It’s easy.”

You watch him with a soft smile, noticing how calm he is with the baby.

The baby’s trying to stand, and Keegan’s holding their hands, guiding them. He’s firm but gentle, watching every little move.

“Alright, you got this. Just take a step.”

The baby stumbles, but Keegan catches them immediately. He grins, a little proud of the first attempt.

“Hey, no rush. You’ll get it. Just take your time.”

You catch him later in the corner of the room, quietly cheering them on as they take their first steps towards him. “That’s my kid.” lifting them up and giving them a soft kiss on the cheek

Keegan never thought he’d be a dad. The idea terrified him.

But the first time he holds his baby? That’s it. He’s gone. They’re his entire world.

Tries to be the “cool, quiet” dad, but his kid completely shatters that image. They tug on his sleeves, climb on him, and drag him into their little adventures.

Affection? He’s not the best with words, but he shows love through actions—fixing broken toys, remembering small details, being the first one awake to comfort them after a nightmare.

Yeah like this man won't sleep the minute the kis sleeps no, He will wait like 2 or 3 hours like in case they wake up or something.

Discipline? His kid rarely misbehaves because Keegan’s quiet disappointment is worse than any punishment.

Secretly loves it when his kid falls asleep on him. Won’t move for hours if it means they stay comfortable.

“Daddy, can you braid my hair?” (if the kid is a girl)

“I don’t know how.”

Cue Keegan watching hair-braiding tutorials at 2 AM.

When your kid is scared, he doesn’t baby them but reassures them calmly. “Nothing’s gonna get you. I’m right here.” It always works.

If his kid is climbing something? Keegan is already behind them, hands out, ready to catch them.

If they look sad? He just hands them their favorite snack or cookies that you told not to eat after dinner he just want the kid to pass this.

Teaches them how to be quiet but dangerous.“Dad, I snuck up on you!”

Keegan, who knew they were there the whole time watching TV “Yeah. Sure you did.”

Awkward with affection. But his kid doesn’t care—they just climb into his lap, hug him, and refuse to let go.He sighs like he’s annoyed, but he’s not. Not even a little.

If His kid is too much like him, like being quite and never says anything

"Talk to me, kid."

"I'm fine, dad."

"...Damn it." turn his head, thinking this is a curse for his kid to be so silent about his problems like him.

Thomas A. merrick:

The second he holds them, he just exhales slowly, and you can tell he’s completely smitten.

Quietly devoted, strong, and calm. Merrick is the kind of dad who can be serious and focused but always has a gentle, protective side when it comes to his baby.

He’s a man of action, but when the baby is placed in his arms, it’s the one thing that makes him stop and reflect.

the baby gets fussy, he hums—deep, soothing tones that somehow work like magic.He’s super patient with late-night wake-ups. If you’re exhausted, he tells you, “Go back to sleep. I got ‘em.” when he’s holding them, he just looks at you and shakes his head with a smile. “We made a good one.”

Loves doing skin-to-skin contact, just resting the baby on his chest while he leans back on the couch. They always fall asleep that way.

Merrick wakes up early, always making sure to prepare the baby’s things before he go to work. He’s very organized, almost too much at times. But he’ll never complain about the work—it’s just part of his commitment to his family.

Lowkey has a soft spot for baby giggles. The second they start laughing, he’s doing whatever it takes to keep them going.

Feeding Time: Merrick’s the dad who always has a backup plan for everything, and feeding is no different. He’ll get the baby to try new foods—anything to expand their palate.

“Come on, just one bite. You’re gonna love it.”

“I don’t think they’ll like that.”

“Watch me. They just don’t know it yet.”

The baby eats the food with minimal protest.

You impressed raising your both hands in kind of giving up: “Okay, maybe you were right.”

Smirking “I know what I’m doing baby.”

Teaching to Talk:

He might not be the most talkative when it comes to baby talk, but there’s something about him holding his baby that feels solid, reassuring. Merrick is very methodical when teaching the baby to speak. He’s patient and will repeat words several times.

Repeating “dada” in a quiet, patient voice. He’s not one for a lot of baby talk, but he’s genuinely trying to help the baby learn.

“Say ‘dada.’ You can do it.”

The baby responds with some babbling, but no words yet.

“That’s alright. You’ll get it.”

Merrick is super strong, so when he holds the baby, it’s like the safest place in the world. You’ll sometimes catch him gently swaying as if he’s thinking, even though the baby is happily asleep in his arms.

If your child gets hurt, he goes into full military medic mode. “It’s just a scratch, but we’re gonna clean it up properly. Hold still.”

The type to instinctively catch his kid if they trip—even if he’s across the room

“How did you do that?”

shrugs “Reflex.”

Merrick was born to be a dad. Calm, wise, Tough and just has his life together.

The most prepared father ever. Has the diaper bag fully stocked, extra blankets on hand, and somehow already knows how to swaddle perfectly.

Secretly super soft when it comes to you. He gives your child little forehead kisses, but when you tease him about it, he just grumbles, “Don’t start.”

The ultimate “dad mode” parent—commands respect but is also super caring.

Would absolutely destroy anyone who hurts his child, no hesitation.

His presence alone is comforting—his kid always runs to him.

Encouraging but firm. Pushes his kid to be their best, but never pressures them.

The type of dad who teaches them life skills early—how to tie knots, how to fix things, how to navigate. (ofc he won't force them)

Biggest cheerleader. If his kid ever doubts themselves, Merrick reminds them exactly what they’re capable of.

His kid tries to get away with swearing.

Merrick just stares at them not in a scary way or something“You wanna try that again kiddo?”

Instant regret. “Uh… fudge?”

“That’s what I thought.”

once when he tried to leave for his work when he gave the baby a kiss on his head then walking to the door, but that stopped when the baby start fussing about him slightly disappear behind the door.

merrick not wasting any time closing the door and getting back to the place "nevermind I will retire".

His kid is fascinated by his war stories, but he makes sure they know the difference between reality and fiction.

He lets them make mistakes, but he’s always there to guide them back.

Merrick is the dad that everyone wishes they had (yeah im running out of ideas).

Kick:

It happened before mirrage like 3 or 4 being lovely partners and no one even had the thought about it

but it happened XD

Acts like he’s totally cool about being a dad, but the second he holds the baby, he’s done for. You find him staring at them, just completely fascinated, You shrugged, find him staring at them, just completely Lost.“You okay?” he didn't even lift his head to look at you “They’re just... really small.”

When the baby gets a little older, Kick’s all in with the physical play. He’s the dad who will “pretend” to be a superhero and will throw them up in the air (safe and sound, of course!) just to hear them giggle.

"OH MY GOD KICK??" ofc you had heart attack.

“Don’t worry, they’re in safe hands. Daddy’s got them.” him smirking at you while the baby is almost done from giggling.

He’s so hands-on, so engaged, that you have to remind him to give the baby some space to crawl on their own.

Feeding Time: Kick acts like it’s no big deal, but he’s definitely the one to crack jokes to get the baby to eat.

You sighing but trying to keep the smile on your face for tricking the baby into eating “Come on, just eat your veggies.”

Kick holding up a spoon to them“Oh, you don’t like broccoli? Shocking kiddo.”

Baby looking at the broccoli turning his face away not wanting to eat

“Wait, how did I know that was coming?”

“Oh my god kick you're not helping!”

Teaching to Talk: Kick is so sarcastic about it. The first time the baby says a word, he acts like it’s the most monumental thing in the world.

Kick is trying to teach the baby to say “dada” first, but his approach is playful and silly.

“C’mon, kiddo, say ‘dada.’ I’m right here.”

The baby giggles at his antics, but no word just yet.

“You’ll be saying it in no time. You can’t resist this face.” Kick said as he point at his face with his two index fingers.

Baby saying “no” for the first time “No!”

Kick deadpan“Well, that’s just rude.”

When the baby’s old enough to squirm and wiggle, Kick just watches in amusement.

You looking at how your kiddo has grown up “I don’t think they want to sit still.”

Kick shaking his head with a chuckle“It’s a phase. But if I try to hold them still, they’ll just squirm out of my grip and think it’s hilarious.”

"yeah sounds like you" giving him a wink, which led him to give you a half gazed eyes

The chill but sarcastic dad.

Has an “if it ain’t life-threatening, you’ll be fine” parenting style.

The definition of unbothered but somehow always has things under control.

He has this natural Dad Reflex. One time, your kid spills something, and without looking up, he just reaches over and catches the cup mid-air.

you catch him adjusting your kid’s blanket at night, read stories and he gets into them so much. especially when he gets to a plot part "christ??" Him eyes widened at the kids stories

You and Kick argue playfully about who’s the favorite parent.

“They like me more.”

“No shot. I’m the fun one.”

Your child chooses the dog instead.

You find him napping on the couch, your kid curled up beside him, using his arm as a pillow.

He doesn’t even wake up—just shifts slightly to pull them closer.

Changes diapers with zero complaints, but absolutely roasts the baby while doing it.

“Man, how did something this tiny make this much of a mess?”

When the baby cries, he picks them up, holds them against his chest, and just walks around the house, murmuring “Shh, Daddy's got you.”

He acts chill about it, but if someone else in the family gathering or a party is holding the baby for too long, he’s suddenly right there. “Yeah, okay, hand ‘em back now.”

He loves laying the baby on his chest and pretending to be asleep just so they fall asleep too.

The laid-back dad who somehow always knows what’s going on.

His kid thinks they’re being sneaky? Nope. Kick already knows.

“Nice try, kid. I did the same thing when I was your age.” ahh dad type

Kick is unbothered. His kid is climbing the furniture? He waits to see if they’ll figure it out themselves before stepping in. (but ofc he will be some kind close to them).

The “cool” dad who lets his kid do fun stuff, but only if they do it right.

“Wanna learn how to fight? Cool. But you’re learning proper form first.”

His kid tries to trick him with a fake injury.

Kick just stares at them with a smile. "Nice acting. You want an Oscar for that?"

“Ugh, fine, I’m not hurt.”

“Yeah, thought so.”

His kid tries to trick him into letting them stay up late.

A lot of "Nice try" words

"Mom just told me I could!"

Kick, without looking up "Nice try she’s asleep."

Somehow always knows when they’re lying."Did you break this?"

"No?"

"Alright..." he said with a smile "well guess I will get back to the records of my secret cameras"

"OKAY OKAY I DID THIS"

Ajax: Alrighty man, I didn't actually dodge your knife but see when i get to these motherfuckers and show them.

Keegan in front of ajax's grave died due to federation soldier's knife

Keegan: And you still fucking missed.

Y/N: Keegan you can literally take the mask off, Nobody gives a fuck to your face.

Keegan: Well that's why i'm keeping the mask. nobody gives a fuck.

Y/N: Oh ok I give a fuck to your fac-....

Keegan:

literally died while making these

Beyoncé, and what is her relationship with Call of Duty ghosts? (this is serious guys i can't take it anymore...)

if i disappear after this post yall know the reason

first of the GIMME SOME curse that came into hesh suddenly!

um like hello the way he squat his leg opened! come on now hesh babe i know you're so down to earth but not like that

let y'all all some photos that the Cod Ghosts fandom has been shut about! I know we are dead but not like that

i'm not thanking Beyonce let what is going to be be

what is my life😔💔kids ain't got none to eat 💔da house is gone💔💔...all because i am posting these shitposts

link in pinned post!

i literally moaned by yall excitement please reblog this post so we can gather a lot of ghosts fan <3

Discord server

oh lord help me the anxiety hit me😭😭...so i made discord server for cod ghosts fans still has no members but i wanna make sure if anyone would join since it would be some kind of a place for ghosts fans

please type something or put a like if you're interested so i can drop reblog this post and drop the link

Discord server

oh lord help me the anxiety hit me😭😭...so i made discord server for cod ghosts fans still has no members but i wanna make sure if anyone would join since it would be some kind of a place for ghosts fans

i will post it in pinned post!

please type something or put a like if you're interested so i can drop reblog this post and drop the link

this is so random and trashy

Maybe i should study instead of making these🧍🏻‍♀️

BORED I need moots in my life😔